Page 88 of Sold to the Alien Smugglers

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And, as he says that, his words boom out across the stage. I suddenly realize he’s not speaking to me any longer – he’s addressing a crowd, like he did in the Great Hall earlier.

At the press of that button, the opaque air shield disappears. The ropes tighten, pulling me around to stare out at the audience gathered to witness tonight’s spectacle.

I’m forced to face the crowd – andwhata crowd

The roar of hundreds of jeering, cheering Toads and Bullfrogs hits me like a tidal wave. The entire ship’s complement must be gathered here right now – more bulbous eyes and glistening bodies than I can count, stretching out across a massive amphitheater.

And here I am, tied and helpless – fighting against these sentient ropes, which tighten around me and secure me to that wooden pole.

I realize now that Oblog planned it this way all along. He’d even gone so far as to splinter the wood on the pole, knowing I’d be led past it. He was testing to see whether I had any fight left in me – and to add theatrics to the event.

I shudder in horror. If I’ve still got fight left in me, it will delight the Toads to torment it out.

Lord Oblog waddles forward to address the crowd. He stretches his spindly arms wide.

“I promised you all a show!” Lord Oblog’s voice booms out, amplified to reach the very back of the teeming crowd. The swarming audience of Toads and Bullfrogs jeers and bays eagerly in response. He then repeats his words in the guttural tones of the Toad language – and I realize that this is just more of his scheming at work.

He speaks first in Common, so I can hear him and react accordingly – and then repeats what he’d said in the Toad language for his fired up audience to hear and jeer at.

The audience is terrifying, and none of them more so than the front row – where fierce Bullfrogs sit rubbing their slimy hands, huge and powerful. The brutal warriors of Toad society have a front-row seat, and in the center that front row is a raised dais from where the second Toad Lord watches the proceedings; rubbing his own hands in glee.

Lord Oblog’s empty chair is next to Lord Qavar, and leashed to it is Tessa. She looks up at me with pleading eyes, and it forces me to remember who I’m enduring this for.

Then, my eyes find a particular Bullfrog staring up at me with resolute hatred in his bulbous eyes. He’s sprawled across two seats in the front row, and there’s no mistaking that ugly scar burned across his chest.

It’s the Bullfrog who killed Ling – the same Bullfrog I left scarred and vengeful. I’m about to be fucked and humiliated in front of this cheering, jeering crowd – but it’s the eyes of my worst enemy that sting the most. My humiliation and shame will be complete with him to bear witness to it.

All around me, I now spot cameras trained on me. For those in the back row, my image is being projected across huge screens hanging from the walls of the auditorium. I’ll have to watch myself at ten times the normal scale, as I’m pinned to this post and left terrified and trembling. The sheer fabric of the pleasure dress clings to me obscenely. My whole body is on display to this disgusting crowd, and as I hang there the moist pleasure dress contorts itselfto my curves and begins squirming and writhing against my most tender spots.

“I promised you all a show,” Lord Oblog repeats, “and a show you will get!”

The Toads and Bullfrogs cheer and laugh as they hear this – yelling, clapping, and salivating at the thought of witnessing three, huge Aurelians ravish a helpless woman. They’re all eager to watch the three, huge warriors crush me beneath them and split me apart with their huge cocks. They’re excited to see the proud, noble warriors of their fiercest rivals turn into mindless, rutting beasts. The hideous, craven Toads feel a natural inferiority to the handsome, proud Aurelian race – and any opportunity to watch that species descend into brutish, feral, dishonorable frenzy is eagerly anticipated.

Then, the side doors that Oblog waddled through are opened once again and the entire crowd hushes.

The three Aurelians stride onto the stage, looking towering and magnificent in their crisp, white Togas.

There’s coiled violence in their steps and murder in their slate-grey gaze. They look like angels, striding into the depths of hell, and surrounded by countless disgusting, slavering beasts.

I know Lucius and the others would love nothing more than to grab the hilts of their Orb-Blades and dive into the crowd of Toads and Bullfrogs, but right now that would be suicide. Instead, I know their coiled, pent-up aggression will be unleashed in a different way…

Onme.

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