Page 11 of Bonded By Savages

They aren’t wearing the reinforced battle armor of the Aurelian Empire.

They aren’t noble saviors. They are the most vile, hated creatures in the universe. They wear black togas, spread open to reveal the horrible brand on their chest, the twin half-circles of the alien War-God Obsidian. The black tattoos mar the perfect marble glow of their skin. Their muscles ripple as they approach me, ignoring the heaps of the remaining quivering, begging Toads who push themselves away, crawling on the floor.

In my vision, the leader had a small scar above his left eye. Now his body has long rends on it, the marble skin turned to a dull, shiny white where blades and bullets bit him. The haughty Aurelian has a red line running down his neck, a scar that should have taken his head off. The leader clenches his teeth as his black robes hiss against the acidic blood of Bullfrogs, and he rips off a huge chunk of his robes, wiping his chest and throwing it aside.

The men I saw as clear as the walls around me are gone.

In their place are brutal conquerors.

Their eyes are on me, as if nothing else in the room exists, the hissing blood steaming into the stone floor, the stink of dying Toads, the sticky heat, none of it exists to them. Their eyes are slate-grey and cold. I was told Aurelians show no emotion. These two are blank-faced, but their eyes seem to pulse with need. They’re hypnotized by my being.

A wounded Bullfrog pulls himself up. I scream and point, and the leader twists, turning in a snapping motion and driving his blade into the warrior’s heart. The Bullfrog grabs at the Orb-Blade and his hands slice open before he falls with a hard thud to the floor.

Bladdard is pressing back against his ornate gold throne. Mucusy sweat drips down his warty forehead. His sallow cheeks are slimy with fear.

“Please, I have gifts for Obsidian,” he warbles out in the common tongue.

The leader of the Aurelians’ hand seems to flick, nothing more, and his Orb-Blade spins in the air. It drives through Bladdard. He’s cut in half, staring down with incomprehension at his innards as even his throne splits behind him, the thin golden leaf breaking apart and exposing the cheap wooden throne.

“No,” he manages, in the Toad language, and keels over sideways, his blood hissing against the stone floor.

Every other Toad makes himself as small as possible, some whimpering in the fetal position. The other two servants dropped their dishes, an action that would have been punished severely an hour ago by these same cowering Toads. They are Lelita and Joel, two women who I exchanged words with on occasion, rapid conversations with our eyes darting left and right for Toads who might overhear and beat us for daring to speak.

Some of these Toads have pistols in their belts, but none of them draw. The leader of the Aurelians strides to the dead Toad Lord and grabs his Orb-Blade, deactivating it and holstering it in a smooth motion before turning his sights on me. They walk like wolves, spreading out and cornering me against the wall.

Fanatics.

These aren’t noble Aurelians. And when they save a woman, they take her. Is my first time going to be in this cursed hall, fucked mercilessly and passed back and forth between the two of them?

“Where is the third?” I don’t know where I find the courage to speak. The words seem to come up, unbidden.

“Dead,” growls the leader in a bitter voice. He’s bare-chested, the robes used to clear the acid off his broad chest, but I can see the pockmarks from Bullfrog blood above his perfect abs. It’s just another reminder of his brutality on what was perfection when I first saw him.

This close, the size difference feels bigger. The two of them are well over seven feet tall, and broad, with wide bodies like swimmers. I barely go up to their navels. Up close, I can see the black stubble on the leader’s strong jaw, his head shaved with a scar running from his eyebrow up to past his hairline. The second looked so handsome in my vision, but now his beauty is intense and ferocious, like a wolf that could rip you apart with a single bite.

He steps towards me, and his hands grip around my waist. I’d imagined the triad as knights of goodness, come to save me.

These two are dark as night. Dark as the tattoos that mar their flesh. I won’t just feel helpless when they use me.

If they follow the Old Ways, I’ll be their possession, a plaything to breed. They’ll lose themselves in the drive to seed me, ignoring my whimpers as they force their too-huge cocks into me.

I struggle. It’s like fighting against a giant. He breathes in, his nostrils flaring, his eyes widening with lust. I’m trapped between the hard stone wall and the beast.

He throws me over his shoulder, striding out, the leader drawing his Orb-Blade again and rushing forward to lead the way, putting himself between any threat and my body.

Fanatics are nearly as bad as being a Toad’s slave…

But I’m terrified of what is going to happen to the other servants. “Quick! Run!” I yell, motioning as I am bounced with each step. We rush through the doors, and I don’t know if Lelita and Joel heard me.

We race down slick hallways servants were forced to march down with food and drink, watching out for vicious tadpoles in the muddy waters that could take a toe from you if you weren’t careful.

My head swims as I bounce over his shoulder. He put me over his right shoulder, which is covered by the black robe of the Fanatics. I get a tiny sense of relief when I see Lelita and Joel running down the hallway to catch up. I don’t know how the Aurelians got a spaceship behind Toad lines, but if they did, it’s the only chance for me and anyone else on this planet. Being the possession of a Fanatic is a step up from living in the late Bladdard’s mansion, and without the Toad Lord to enforce order, the servants could be devoured by ravenous Bullfrogs with nothing to lose.

“Wait! Please, there’s others. Eight more servants,” I gasp out, and bite my tongue as he runs forward, bouncing me. I ignore the pain.

“We can’t save everyone,” comes the cold voice of the leader.

“Please. The quarters are just here,” I say, waving to my right, knowing he can’t see me. “They’re right here!”

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