Page 42 of Sold to the Alien Smugglers

The other two Aurelians kick their boots off. Then, all three of them pull their flak jackets and heavy pants off, throwing them into a huge bin that gobbles them up with a rumble – obviously an AI-controlled clothes washer and dryer.

But not one they wantmeputting my clothes in there. Marcel wasveryclear he wants my clothes gone – and I don’t want to disobey the seven-feet-tall alien warrior, not when he’s clearly on the verge of losing control.

But isn’t that what I want? Deep down, isn’t that what I’m craving?

The three Aurelians move to the couch, dressed now only in light shorts and fitted t-shirts. Their clothing is so tight that it emphasizes every sinew of their powerful thighs and the corded muscles of their huge chests and shoulders. The alien warriors lounge back against the couch, watching Tessa and I expectantly.

They move like dangerous jungle cats. They might appear to be lounging – but their taut muscles are straining, and I know that they could snap at any second. I watch their huge chests rise and fall as they breathe heavily. I feel like it’s taking every ounce of effort for the three predatory creatures to remain seated and not pounce across the room to rip my clothes off and force me up against the wall.

Tessa is the one to break the tension.

She starts ripping off her wet, clinging clothes like the fabric is scalding her.

“Fuck these fucking Toads – and their slimy, stinky ship!”

It’s as if Tessa is tearing off her frustration and terror at the same time as her clothes – bundling them all together and striding to the compactor shamelessly naked. With a snarl of satisfaction, she stuffs them in through the slot and slams her hand against the activation panel. The whir of blades emerges from behind the steel panels as her ruined clothing is shredded.

I watch her – impressed at her confidence and grace…

…but I’m the only one who does so.

The three Aurelians still have their eyes turned to me.

This is wrong.

They should be watching her. Gods, evenIcan’t take my eyes off Tessa – and I’m not a sex-crazed alien warrior.

The Aurelians should be staring at the beautiful, naked woman standing right in front of them. Tessa is nubile and lithe, and if the rumors about Aurelians are true, just the sight of her should have triggered the mating frenzy in each of them and sent them pouncing across the room. By now, Tessa should have found herself dragged towards the nearest bedroom – if the Aurelians could even wait that long.

But the entire time she was stripping, they stared straight atme.

I gulp – but it’s not the dry air that makes my mouth suddenly feel parched.

After a moment of hesitation, I surrender to the inevitable. After all, I’m already half-naked – my breasts are still bared and my shirt and bra are hanging from my shoulders like rags.

Heart pounding, I kick off my boots. Then, I tug at my clinging, soaked pants. I have to peel them down, off my thighs. The sensation makes my skin crawl – instantly conjuring the memory of wading through the swamp-like ship with my wrists and ankles shackled.

The ankle-deep water was brown and fetid, and the slimy secretions of the Toads who’d groped me are still plastered across my skin. I feel disgusting

“All of it.”

Marcel growls coldly, and I don’t hesitate to obey him. My body feels like it’s autopilot – responding to his commands whether or not my brain wants to. It’s like his voice resonates deep inside of me.

Kicking aside my pants, I then hook my thumbs into my panties and slowly peel them down over the curves of my hips and ass.

I feel filthy and disgusting, and I know I must smell vile – yet the moment I pull my panties off from around my ankles, all three of the Aurelians take a deep breath in. They do so with perfect synchronicity – as one – and I know they’re tasting my scent.

My cheeks burn with humiliation as I scurry to the compactor – passing that washer and dryer system, but ignoring it completely. Instead, as ordered, I throw my pants and panties into the garbage chute, and my torn bra and shirt follow. It feels satisfying to slap the button and listen to the whir of the blades shredding my filthy clothes. I wish there was a way to shred the memories of today just as easily.

Marcel’s neck twitches as he watches me. I canfeelthe eyes of the Aurelians burning into me as I stand naked next to Tessa.

The leader of the Aurelians has to lick his suddenly dry lips before he speaks.

“Showers are in there, through the bedrooms.”

Marcel speaks harshly, his voice raspy with desire. I don’t know why he’s fighting his urges – I know he doesn’t have to. He has me –literally. I’m his property, bought and sold, and I’ve already promised him I’d doanythingin return for rescuing Tessa.

Anything. What does that even entail?

---