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Sex Slaves 1: Sex Traders
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SEX TRADERS
An Ellora’s Cave Publication, September 2004
Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.
PO Box 787
Hudson, OH 44236-0787
ISBN MS Reader (LIT) ISBN # 1-4199-0025-0
Other available formats (no ISBNs are assigned):
Adobe (PDF), Rocketbook (RB), Mobipocket (PRC) & HTML
SEX TRADERS © 2004 LORIE O’CLARE
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without permission.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. They are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
Edited by Sue-Ellen Gower.
Cover art by Syneca.
Sex Slaves 1:
Sex Traders
Lorie O’Clare
Chapter One
“Hurry!” Flames leapt from the building. They wouldn’t get out in time. “Get the children down to the river. Follow it to the village.”
Her father’s slaves had no skills. Bred for pleasure, the children his bastards, Marla knew their chances for survival were slim. But they would die a worse death here. The last of the women ran, the children fleeing by their sides, while the once beautiful structure that had been her father’s sanctuary burned to the ground.
“Marla! Quick! Take cover!” Krone, her father’s personal guard, barely yelled his warning before a fire bullet scorched through his back.
Burnt flesh filled the air with its unbearable stench. Her stomach bucked, bitter bile rising to her throat. She clamped her hand over her mouth, praying she wouldn’t vomit. Every minute counted if she were to stay alive through this nightmare.
She ran toward the house, determined they wouldn’t find her father’s body. Black smoke filled her lungs, her eyes watering. Her black cape, the one she’d always worn with pride that marked her daughter of the house of Torl, served now only to cover her face.
A Bortan flier buzzed overhead. Krone had told her father they would attack the structures. But Torl was a damned stubborn, old man. He’d refused to leave his home, and now he was dead.
“Leave us alone,” she cried out toward the black, single-piloted Bortan flier. “You’ve destroyed us already.” She wouldn’t break down now. The lump in her throat threatened to spread into tears. “Let me bury my dead in peace.”
The Bortan flier disappeared into the thick clouds formed from the burning countryside, but then reappeared before she made it across the yard. Her heart raced, fear creeping down her spine, when the black contraption lowered its landing gear. She’d heard the threats that the Bortan would quarter her father, casting his body parts over the four largest villages.
“The end of the Torl Empire.” She’d laughed at the merchant who’d told her the stories. “They will desecrate his body, spreading his limbs for all to see that they have successfully wiped out the sex slave markets.”
“They only want to corner the market for themselves.” She hadn’t a care in the world about the Bortan at that time.
But the merchant had wagged a knowing finger at her. “Don’t be foolish. The Bortan control most of the solar system. They won’t have sex sold without their tax applied.”
“The Torl family will breed sex slaves for generations to come,” she had assured him. “Tax free. The Bortan have no jurisdiction here.”
What was left of her legacy burned beyond control.
The Bortan pushed open the door of his flier, his metal armor that covered him from head to toe, visible even in the thick smoke. All of the guns were in the house. She had only her knife, useless against this metal-cast warrior. Horror gripped her while she watched him approach, his armor clinking with each step. If he didn’t kill her immediately, he would rape her. Worse yet, he would take her with him, possibly selling her as a torture slave at one of the Bortan outposts.
She turned, knowing running was futile, but not willing to simply stand and accept her fate. Terror choked her, stealing her breath, making movement impossible. Behind her stood another person, tall, dark, his expression brooding. The last person she expected to see in her own front yard was mere feet away. Her mouth went dry, while her heart began pounding so hard that it hurt.
Trev of Kopah, son of Kopah, her father’s worst enemy, approached her, laser in hand. It had been years since she’d seen him last, and then she’d kicked his ass. The gaunt teenager was gone, replaced by a muscular man, his grayish, almost lavender eyes hell-bent on their mission.
Breathing was hard enough to do in the thick smoke, but staring into the face of the man whom she’d denied years ago made it almost impossible.
His clothes clung to his muscular torso and were stained, covered with soot. Apparently the Bortan had attacked Kopah territory too. That would make sense. She doubted Trev would be so filthy if he weren’t defending his land. But even with smeared mud and ash, the first thing that caught her eye was how damned sexy he looked standing there, his laser aimed at her. Her insides tightened, desire rippling through her while she stared at those intriguing grayish-lavender eyes.
This man, her lifelong sworn enemy, moved her like no man ever had. Standing there, in the middle of her yard with everything she knew burning at the hands of enemies, something ignited inside her that she couldn’t identify. She shouldn’t be feeling like this. Her home burned around her and everyone she knew was dead. Her reaction to him had to be a result of shock. Why else would she suddenly feel so damned turned on staring into his sensual gaze?
“What do you want?” She barely whispered, her mouth dry from inhaling so much smoke.
“You.” His eyes darkened, the gray giving away to lavender. Smoke and darkness around him only added to the mystery of his presence here.
Something in his gaze gripped her. Not terror, at least not the terror she knew from the Bortan. His look was almost predatory—possessive. He took a step closer, looking ready to devour her.
It would make sense that he wanted her so he could kill her. Their families had been enemies forever. But the way he stared at her right now, his penetrating gaze devouring her, he didn’t look like he wanted to kill her. That was the look of a man who wanted to fuck her silly.
She must be beyond shock. She was losing her mind.
The clinking of armor brought her back to her senses. The Bortan walked toward her from behind. She was trapped between two enemies. The last thing she wanted to do was choose which of these men would kill her—or fuck her. Her chances were slim, but she would fight to the end.
“I will not die today.” She turned from both men, praying the gods were on her side.
The uneven ground and her long cape made running a challenge, but she wouldn’t surrender. The medic’s house was her last chance for cover.
Laser fire whistled behind her. If Trev had aimed at her, he was a worse shot than she was. Her cape billowed behind her while she stumbled down the hill toward the medic’s quarters.
“There are guns here. Think.” Her hands shook while she latched the door closed.
She hadn’t been inside the small house used for physicals, abortions, or any other attention the slaves might need, for quite a while.
“Is anyone here?” The examination room appeared empty.
She yanked open drawers searching for weapons, shaking so hard she almost pulled a few drawers all the way out.
“No!” She yelped when a large bang against the office door about made her jump out of her skin.
“Leave while you can.” She screamed at the bolted door. “I’m armed.”
She needed to find a gun. A weapon of any kind would do. She raced to the next examination
room, sliding on the floor, her knee burning when she fell. There wasn’t anything here to defend herself.
“Gods!” She screamed at the sound of crashing wood, realizing immediately she had given her whereabouts away.
Some warrior she would make.
There was no escape. The Bortan warrior clinked while he walked, metal scraping over the white tiled floor. There were examination rooms on either side of her, but otherwise she stood, trapped, in the narrow hallway leading to the main entry room.
“For the sake of the gods, Bortan.” She hated how pathetic she sounded. “Leave me in peace to bury my dead. You’ve done enough damage.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat while watching him slide his fire gun back on to his belt. There was no comfort in the knowledge that he didn’t plan on killing her immediately.
The Bortan raised his helmet, his red eyes glowing against his pale humanoid skin. He pulled his gloves off, the mechanical movement of his fingers reminding her that she dealt with a machine here, as well as a person. She licked her dry lips, taking a step backwards.
He had her trapped, his presence filling the end of the short hallway. There was no way she could get past him. He obviously realized this, since he took his time removing his gloves.
“I don’t intend to do any further damage.” His voice vibrated. Possibly his manmade vocal chords had been damaged in battle. “In fact, word is that a slut like you will enjoy what I have.”
She shuddered, backing away from him. “I’m not a slut.”
“Oh. That’s right.” His laughter chilled her blood, the gruesome vibrating sound turning her stomach. “You just breed and sell sluts.” He shrugged. “Whatever. I’m still going to fuck you.”
Chapter Two
Trev rolled over on the ground, wondering if the bumps he felt were on his head, or from the dirt he lay on.
“Fucking Bortan.” What a despicable race, feeling their superiority by enhancing their body parts with machinery.
He rubbed his head, taking his time sitting up, regaining his wits about him. At least he now knew that the Bortan’s fire-gun must need recharging. The Bortan hadn’t fired at him, simply pounded his head with his fist. Like that wasn’t enough. He groaned, forcing himself to stand. Some hero he was.
Although he hadn’t visited Torl since he was a boy, he remembered the layout of the Torl Estate. Hell. He remembered everything about his last visit. And this visit seemed to be getting off to about as good of a start. There was one difference though. The last time he’d been here a cute teenage girl had tormented him. Now the sexiest woman he’d ever lay eyes on had taken her place. Marla sure had grown up. He’d wanted to fuck her when he was a boy. Now he knew he wouldn’t leave Torl until he had felt the smooth heat of her pussy wrapped around his cock.
He didn’t run far before noticing a small structure at the bottom of a hill, protected by surrounding trees. The Bortan must not have noticed it, or they probably would have burned it, too.
Images of Marla, still a teenager, appeared in his thoughts. The last time he’d seen her, she had assured him she would rather die than have him touch her. He wondered if she still felt the same way. The terrified look she’d given him just now seemed proof enough she didn’t view him as an ally.
That night, so long ago, he had crept onto Torl land, intending to spy on her. News of the parties held here, the successful business deals conducted, the amazing sex shows and orgies that took place, were incentive enough to sneak onto the land.
Like everyone else, Trev heard how Torl treated his sex slaves. They were reported to live in the lap of luxury, spoiled and nurtured, trained in the fine art of pleasure, then sold at incredibly high bids. The rumors had been accurate.
Trev remembered watching two young slave girls strip before their master, and then praise him by sucking his cock. The party attendees watched the act, until Torl gestured that his other slaves should mingle among the guests, offering their bodies to his guests for them to enjoy as they saw fit. Trev had almost ruined his pants watching the orgy that followed from his hiding place. He probably would have, if he hadn’t been caught.
The guards had held him here, in this house. It had been an examination area at the time, used to assure the slaves met health codes. Trev still remembered waiting for what seemed like hours before Torl showed up, his daughter in tow. Marla was more beautiful up close than she had been at a distance, and he remembered stumbling over every word while answering Torl’s questions.
The old man could have had him flogged for violating several treaties, crossing onto enemy land, gathering knowledge his father could have used against Torl. Their families competed for sex slave trade control, both houses growing wealthier every year, and hating each other more and more for the other’s success.
“You might as well let him go, father.” Marla had turned her back on him, her curved ass displayed so nicely in the tight pants she had worn that night. “Let him tell his family of our success. I’m sure a messenger boy is all he is good at. The gods know I would rather die than be touched by him. I’m sure that is the opinion of all ladies of society.”
“Go home then, boy.” Torl had dismissed him with the wave of a hand, turning to rejoin his guests. “Be it known if I see you again, you won’t walk away as easily.”
The guards had watched him head toward his home, but he’d ducked to the side, hiding by a riverbank, and waited. He had to see her again. Marla captivated him, and as with any youth, he wanted what he couldn’t have.
“Does someone need to teach you a lesson in following orders?” She’d appeared out of nowhere.
“Are you volunteering for the job?” He’d been cocky, delighted to be alone with the temptation of his dreams.
But then, she’d kicked his ass. Before he could react, she’d punched him in the stomach, and then tripped him, making him fall in the mud. She hadn’t allowed him time to get up before she kicked him in his lower back, stealing his breath, and making him double over in pain.
“You aren’t worth any more of my time.” She’d flipped her long, silky white hair over her shoulder, and marched away from him, leaving him writhing in pain, with nothing more on his mind than the sway of her adorable rear end as she disappeared into the darkness.
A bloodcurdling scream ripped through the air, stopping him in his tracks. Marla! It had to be her he’d just heard. That fucking Bortan was torturing her.
“I’ll fry every circuit in your mutated body,” he swore under his breath.
The front door of the house had been destroyed. The Bortan either thought he had killed him, or he didn’t view Trev as much of a threat. No one was in the main room of the home. Wherever the Bortan had Marla, he obviously didn’t give much thought to being interrupted.
That fucking Bortan could just go ahead and think himself omnipotent. It would be much easier to destroy the bastard.
It took some effort to step around the door, which lay in pieces on the floor in the main room of the house.
“Don’t do that. No!” Marla pleaded with the Bortan. And she was nearby, somewhere in the house.
All he had was his laser. He pulled it from the case on his belt, holding it poised in front of him. This was not his area of expertise. His palm grew sweaty wrapped around the cold metal of his gun. But damnit, his family was dead, his land destroyed. Marla had lost everything, too. It seemed he had a hell of a lot more right to her than that Bortan did. And he would fight for that right.
“You aren’t in charge here, slut.”
A smacking sound followed. The Bortan must have slapped her.
Her cries ripped through him. Pain twisted in his gut, a mixture of sympathy and outrage. Marla didn’t deserve abusive treatment. He had seen the fear, the hurt in her eyes earlier, when she turned and saw him behind her, before she ran. The Bortan had destroyed her world, and now the monster would destroy her, too.
The hallway disappeared in the shadows, with a door on either side. The Bortan h
ad her behind the door to Trev’s left. He heard the metal clicking on the floor when the Bortan moved. There would only be one opportunity. If he muffed this, there wouldn’t be a second chance.
He pushed the door open, holding his breath, not sure what he would see.
“I bet I can get at least ten marks for you.” The Bortan’s voice vibrated, making him sound even more deranged. “That is, if I decide to sell you.”
“You won’t live long enough to sell me.” Marla had to be given credit for threatening him.
The Bortan had her spread-eagled up against the wall. Knives had been shoved into the wall, her wrists and ankles bound to the handles. Trev couldn’t move for a moment, unable to take his eyes from her beauty, stretched out and naked before him.
The Bortan laughed. He had removed his helmet, his bald head an atrocity in the foreground of paradise. The electronically enhanced man ran his metal digits down the front of her body, over her round, plump breasts. They brushed over her flat tummy, her breathing coming hard while she focused on her captor. Her shiny white hair fell over her shoulders, streaming down her gleaming white skin. Her body glistened, while her muscles quivered against the humanoid’s touch. The Bortan kneeled, his metal armor shifting, clinking with the movement.
“Such beauty will remain even after your spirit is broken.” Those metal fingers probed her pussy, pressing against her shaven skin.
Trev couldn’t look away when the man’s tongue, silver and longer than it should be, flicked from his metal lips.
“You’ll burn in hell for this.” Marla had her eyes squeezed shut, looking upward, her lips pursed in tight determination.
She hadn’t noticed him enter, and thankfully, neither had the Bortan.
“There is no hell, you foolish whore.” The Bortan pressed his mouth against her cunt, her body lurching in response, the restraints holding her while she thrust her hips from side to side, obviously trying to free her pussy from his mouth.
The Bortan possessed ten times Trev’s strength. If he fired his laser at the man, he could kill him instantly with his head exposed. But Trev feared the laser could penetrate through the man, hitting Marla as well. He stood, not moving, praying to the gods that the mechanical brute would move any minute. Trev wouldn’t miss his target, and he wouldn’t miss his opportunity. Even if the Bortan turned to acknowledge him, it would be all he would need. But he wouldn’t risk it with the man’s only exposed body part so close to Marla’s sweet pussy.