Chapter 29
29
I thought I’d gotten used to alien stares after spending time on Spire. The curious glances and gawking eventually blended into background noise that I barely noticed. On Gryxyx, it was unpleasant, but mainly because of the sheer volume of people. Even those looks had little ill intent behind them.
So when we step onto the dark club floor and Hadrell leads me to a booth out in the open, I don’t expect the eyes on me to make my skin crawl. I keep my gaze downcast, trusting Hadrell to keep me from running into anything, but it doesn’t matter. I can feel them. Their gazes raking over every inch of my bare flesh, assessing my body for its worth. Trying to determine how much they can get out of me, what I could withstand, what pleasures they could use me for .
It threatens to trigger the instinct in my mind to retreat. To go numb so I don’t have to worry about the squirming discomfort of being looked at like a piece of meat. But I resist, letting the gentle tug against my collar anchor me.
I can do this. Fuck these people. Let them look all they want. Let them believe I’m nothing more than a set of holes to fuck and a body to take out their cruelty on. I know why I’m here. Just like I know Hadrell will keep me safe.
Hadrell sits down on the booth bench, legs splayed wide as he leans back and casually takes in our surroundings. I go to kneel at his feet, but he shakes his head and glances meaningfully at his lap. “Sit.”
I do as they order, thankful that we’ve already practiced this, so I don’t look stiff or awkward. They place a hand on my chest and push me back so I’m resting against them, then slide their hand up to cage my throat, fingers stroking idly around the edges of my collar.
Despite what feels like the entire room watching us, I sink into their touch. Arousal thrums inside me.
They lean in so that their head is looking over my shoulder. From an outside perspective, they must look like they’re going to whisper something filthy or demeaning to me, and part of me wants them to.
“So far so good,” Hadrell murmurs. “Take a look around and make note of all the exits and the guards. But don’t let your eyes linger on them.”
I nod slightly and do as he asks, taking in the space for the first time since we entered.
My breath hitches. It’s much bigger than I thought, a sprawling dark room with pulsating violet and white light, which, as I vaguely recall from a conversation with Mezli, are the colors nexxit associate with their equivalent of hell or the underworld. We’re out in the open among a large cluster of booths where scantily clad ankites weave about with trays of shimmering and glowing liquor.
Beyond the area Hadrell has chosen for us, semi-transparent walls partition areas off so only shadows of the figures behind them can be seen. Figures which are clearly fucking in every way imaginable. The thudding, moody music isn’t quite loud enough to drown out the occasional cry or groan, and it’s hard to tell what’s from pleasure and what’s from pain.
No wonder they thought it was a bad idea to bring Tari here—she’d be like a kid in a candy shop, wanting to watch it all.
I’ve never been much of a voyeur though, so I turn away from those lurid shadows to continue scanning the room. In total, I count four exits. One leading back out to the entrance, and the rest to other parts of the club. The waitstaff goes in and out of an unmarked door that blends in with the wall, and that one is unguarded. There are two guards posted by the ornate door directly across from where we’re seated, and I watch as they turn away an ankite with an aespian attached to them by a tether. Must be the VIP area.
Hadrell tugs on the chain attached to my collar when they realize I’ve been looking at that area for too long.
I immediately cast my gaze down, breath speeding up as I worry I’ve messed things up already.
“How many?” they murmur, pressing their lips to the shell of my ear.
“Four exits… six guards?”
They nip at my ear and I gasp. “Close. 8 guards. Two more are behind us.”
“How do you know that?” I whisper.
“I noticed them when we entered. Everyone was too busy staring at my pretty pet to pay attention to me scoping the room out.” Hadrell slides the hand on my throat down to my chest as they speak, then further down to rest right above my navel, fingertips brushing against the waistband of my briefs. My cock twitches with interest, even though I’d rather not get hard in front of all these people.
Though, as I think that, my dick swells even more.
Huh. Okay, maybe I do. Yet another kink I’ve discovered.
Hadrell stops talking as one of the ankite waiters approaches us. They hand Hadrell an iridescent orange cocktail, averting their gaze from them to lock eyes with me instead. Their features shift on reflex, sharpening to better resemble mine, as is the habit of the changeling-like species. There’s surprise and worry written across their eerie recreation of my face, but it’s quickly replaced with a blankness that’s all too familiar to me.
Fuck, are they here against their will? I knew the person we’re meant to find here was a trafficker, but thought the club itself would be staffed normally. God, I’m so naive.
Anger flares hot and bright inside me. We have to do something. I have the urge to be reckless and beg Hadrell to change our plan. Do something drastic like set the whole place on fire and use the chaos to usher them all to freedom. We could fit them on Hadrell’s ship until we got them to safety, couldn’t we?
Hadrell takes a sip of the cocktail, then hands it to me to hold. The ankite moves away to bring a drink to another patron.
“Easy,” Hadrell murmurs against my ear as he feels the tension in my spine. He strokes a talon against my thigh in a soothing pattern that helps me calm down.
I only have a few moments to focus on the sensation before a raspy voice cuts through the temporary calm .
“Goddess, look at this, Mistrl. Maybe I’ve had too many drinks, but that looks like a human.”
To lessen the chance of getting into a confrontation, Hadrell recommended I avert my gaze from anyone who talks to us, so I don’t get more than a momentary look at the new arrival. It’s enough for me to catch a flash of their dull pink skin, letting me know they’re a nexxit.
“It sure is,” a gravely voice replies. Sounds like a shikzeth. “Damn, look at all that thin, exposed skin. I bet it takes marks beautifully.”
Hadrell maintains their laid back posture, but brings their hand back to my throat. “It does.”
“It’s got such a pretty neck. Looks good with a hand wrapped around it,” the nexxit comments and the two strangers laugh.
“Is there a reason you’re bothering me with your inane observations?” Hadrell drawls. The arrogant tone to his voice makes my cock stiffen, pressing insistently against the far too tight briefs.
“We’ve never seen a human in the flesh,” the shikzeth rumbles, emphasizing the word “flesh” in a way that makes it sound obscene.
I startle, letting out a choked groan when Hadrell’s other hand lands atop my cock, giving it a possessive squeeze. His fingers twitch and he inhales sharply when he feels how hard I am right now. My face flames, but it does nothing to diminish my arousal.
“Goddess, it’s so responsive,” the nexxit groans.
“How much?” The shikzeth rumbles out the question. Unlike when we were on Gryxyx, I doubt they’re asking how much my services are. They’re asking how much it would cost to buy me.
Hadrell scoffs. “If you have to ask, then you can’t afford it. Go waste someone else’s time. ”
There’s an angry growl in response to Hadrell’s words, and I look up in alarm, even though I know I’m not supposed to.
God, this shikzeth is massive. They look like something out of an action vid, their rocky plating spiking out from their body in lethal-looking ridges. As capable as Hadrell is, there’s no way they could go toe-to-toe with this alien. Especially when the nexxit next to the shikzeth is covered in wiry muscle and scars that indicate a lot of experience with fights.
“Don’t fucking speak that way to me, Y’thir,” the shikzeth growls. “If trash like you can afford a human, it can’t be that much.”
Hadrell goes still, priming for a potential fight. They tug on my leash twice and my heart leaps into my throat.
Shit, I have to do something. Anything to keep these fuckers from getting angrier.
I do the only thing I can think of. I squirm in Hadrell’s lap, rubbing against the hand on my cock like a cat in heat.
The thugs’ eyes immediately track the movement, so I do it again, this time letting out a small whimper, which sounds ridiculous to my ears, but has their eyes flaring with interest.
“Behave,” Hadrell snaps, giving a sharp tug to my collar. I moan at the sensation, and even though I’m playing up my reactions, my cock throbs.
“I need you, sir,” I whine, loud enough for our audience to hear.
“Void, look at it,” the shikzeth groans. Their aggressive posture eases as they bring a hand to rub against the bulge forming in their pants.
It’s gross, but my mind shouts with elation that I’m helping. I’m doing my job and keeping Hadrell safe. Sure, it’s by putting on a wanton show, but it still counts.
Hadrell’s dark chuckle sends a shiver down my spine. “Such a slut, begging for it. Can’t even wait until I’ve finished a conversation.” He gives my cock a rough stroke over the straining fabric, and I moan.
“Yes, sir. I’m your slut. I need it.”
“Goddess…are all humans like this?” the nexxit asks, awed by my horny display.
Oh shit, maybe I’m doing too good of a job. The last thing I want is for word to get around with the scum of the galaxy that humans make perfect sex slaves.
“No. I’ve trained this one,” Hadrell says, allaying my fears without me needing to say anything. “Which is why he’s so rare. I may be Y’thir, but I’ve put the time in to make him worth a fortune.”
The shikzeth nods, never taking their gaze from where Hadrell is working my cock. “I can see that.”
“What do you think, pet? Should I be generous and show everyone how pretty you look when you come?” The heat in Hadrell’s voice is genuine, but there’s a real question for me hidden in there, asking if what they’re doing is okay.
“P-please, sir,” I sigh, closing my eyes to focus on how their touch lights me up. Nothing exists outside of them and how they own every ounce of me—body and heart—in a way that’s worth more than the greatest riches of the universe.
My breath hitches as my orgasm approaches. God, I’m going to come while a room full of people watch. I really am a fa’sli . I fight back a strained bubble of laughter at the ridiculousness of the situation I’m in, and it turns into a moan as my balls draw up, preparing to unload.
“Whiny pets don’t get rewards.”
I cry out as Hadrell removes his hand and shoves me off of his lap. I tumble to his feet, looking up at him with wide eyes as I bite back my frustrated protest, since I know that won’t match my role as a well-behaved pet. “S-sorry, sir,” I pant, trying to catch my breath.
Dark laughs erupt from our audience and Hadrell lets out a tiny chuckle.
“You should punish it,” the shikzeth rumbles, glaring down at me with malicious hunger.
The air shifts and the tension returns. Hadrell has a hard look in their eyes, and their jaw ticks as they glare at our unwanted visitor.
I try to mentally will them to relax and to not engage with this asshole, but I don’t have psychic powers, so they don’t even look down at me. Looks like I need to play my role again. I have a feeling that these thugs will lose interest if I’m lavishing attention on Hadrell, so I place a tentative hand on Hadrell’s thigh.
His eyes snap down to me in warning, and I meet his gaze, begging him to go along with this.
I know I promised to follow his lead and obey everything he says while we’re here, but that promise went out the airlock when he started acting like he was going to get us both killed in a pointless brawl. We haven’t even made contact with the mark yet. I doubt they’ll want anything to do with Hadrell if he gets in a petty fight.
I’m taking control of things, so we get the job done.
“Please, sir, let me apologize the way I do best,” I murmur, nuzzling my cheek against their thigh and peering up at them from between their spread legs.
Hadrell tangles a hand in my hair, and I shiver at his touch. Most of this might be an act, but the way I react to him definitely isn’t.
When they don’t protest, I nuzzle against them again, this time dragging my nose between their thighs. Their hand tightens in my hair, and I let out a soft groan at the pricks of pleasurable pain .
They don’t give me permission to go further or make a move to stop, so I press an open mouth kiss on one thigh, then the other. Their grip on my hair releases and they stroke my head once, before palming the back of it and pressing my mouth between their thighs, holding me there against the seam of their pants.
I can smell the sweet, floral aroma of his arousal and it makes me moan, wishing I could taste it. That would be a disastrous idea, considering what happened the last time I did that, but it doesn’t stop me from remembering how incredible it was to have him gushing his slick all over my face.
There’s a disgruntled huff in the nexxit’s higher cadence. “I’m getting bored.”
“Yeah, I don’t need to see any of this soft shit,” the shikzeth grumbles.
I stroke my hands up and down Hadrell’s thighs, rubbing my face against the crotch of their pants in wanton abandon for another minute, before they yank me off with a gentle tug on my hair.
“They’re gone,” they whisper, their white eye glowing bright as their cybernetic one contracts into a sharp beam of green light, assessing me.
I risk a small smirk up at them. “I told you I’ve got this.”
He chuckles and pets my hair again. “You do.” He raises his voice from a whisper. “That’s enough, pet. Hand me my drink.”
I move to grab the cocktail from the table beside us, but freeze as I look up into the eyes of the ankite server from earlier.
“Apologies for interrupting,” they say with a tight smile that speaks of many instances where they were lashed out at for such an interruption.
Hadrell sighs as I pass over the drink, my hand shaking slightly as I wonder why they’ve returned. Did we do something wrong? Are they going to kick us out or bring us to a back room and rough us up? Shit, I thought things were going well enough, but maybe not.
“Don’t stand there staring. Tell me what was so important that it necessitated you speaking to me.” Hadrell’s haughty tone is so convincing that there’s a reflexive urge to tell him off for being so rude to this poor ankite.
The ankite blinks rapidly, their features sharpening to resemble Hadrell’s as their smile quivers. “There is a guest who heard that you’re interested in acquisitions who would like to speak with you. She requests you bring your human with you, seeing as leaving him unattended would be unwise.”
Holy shit, this is actually working. I fight back a grin of triumph as I look to Hadrell for their command.
“Interesting,” Hadrell drawls. “This night cycle might not be a total waste after all, pet. Make sure you’re on your best behavior.”
I pretend to swallow hard at the implied threat of what happens if I were to disobey and nod. “Y-yes, sir.”
Hadrell stands and tugs on the leash, signaling me to stand and follow. “Take me to them,” he orders, and the ankite scurries to obey, walking straight for the door I’d clocked as the VIP area.
I inhale deeply and say a silent prayer to anyone who will listen as we step past the musclebound bouncers and follow the ankite through a winding corridor. We move past alcoves shielded from view by those same translucent panels, and a myriad of shadowed shapes behind them, to a solid door marked with a symbol my translator doesn’t recognize.
This is it.
Unless that symbol means “security” and we’re about to get beat up, or worse, because they figured out Hadrell is an imposter and this was an elaborate setup.
Shit !
I turn to Hadrell and stare up at him, panic surely written on my face.
They place a hand on the back of my neck and squeeze it in a gesture that may look possessive from the outside, but helps to keep me from letting the swell of nauseating anxiety drown me.
Hadrell chuckles. “Don’t worry, human. Everything will work out.”
The ankite catches my eye for a second as the door slides open and the look they give me is one of warning. Hopefully, they’re trying to tell me I’m fucked, and not that this is a trap. I don’t have time to search their face for long as Hadrell releases their hold on my neck and steps into the room, giving my leash a sharp tug, so I’ll follow.
Does that one tug mean he’s not worried? Fuck, I wish I could ask him, but we’re past the point of no return. All my adamance and bravado about being able to do this replays in my mind like a cruel taunt.
Why did I think I could do this?
Swallowing hard, I stumble into the room to face the consequences of my delusion.