Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 119846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
“Oh, sorry sweetie,” the alien said breezily, waving a webbed hand. “That’s an anti-self-contact collar. Can’t have you er, entertaining yourself before the big show, now can we?”
“What?” Noelle gaped at the alien. “How is just touching my arm ‘entertaining’ myself?”
The alien just shrugged.
“It’s standard. Don’t take it personally.”
Noelle felt sick—so now she couldn’t touch her own body in any way? Her skin felt like a live wire—like her body was now a trap.
Bright and Burn reached for her at the same time, each hooking a big hand under her arms. To her shock, their touch didn’t trigger anything—not a single shock or jolt of pain went through her.
Apparently they can touch me, but I can’t touch myself, she thought bitterly.
“Good, very good!” the alien chirped. “Now then, up we go. We must get you ready for the Auction. And no funny business, unless you’d like another taste of my little toy.” It waved the silver remote with a smile that didn’t reach its shiny black eyes.
And then it turned and swept toward a corridor on the far side of the room, its silver robes swirling behind it like smoke.
Noelle’s body still trembled. Her neck throbbed and her skin felt wrong. Every step down that sterile hallway felt heavier than the last.
What else is waiting for us in this place? she wondered.
And the bigger question was—would they survive it?
30
NOELLE
The alien with the floating silver robes and flickering headdress swept ahead of them, her fingertips trailing sparkling motes of light through the air as she pushed open a tall arched door. It was definitely more female than male, Noelle thought—though maybe it was some other sex, who knew?
“Come along, you three. Chop-chop! Time is money.”
Noelle swallowed hard as she walked between Bright and Burn, both warriors staying close enough that their heat radiated against her arms. The moment they crossed the threshold, she realized they’d entered a dressing room — or something like it.
The chamber was bright and chilly. Shiny white tiles gleamed underfoot, polished so clean they looked almost wet. Against one wall stood a long row of 3-D viewers, each with a cushioned bench and a visor hanging from an articulated metal arm. The opposite wall was lined with racks of clothing, shimmering with fabrics of every color — silks, satins, leathers, laces—in all shapes and cuts.
The alien hummed to herself, browsing the clothing racks with an air of theatrical importance.
“Now let me see, the three of you must match. We’re looking for aesthetic unity…buyer appeal…visual drama…” She flicked through hangers rapidly. “You’ll need a theme. Yes…oh, oh, yes. I’ve got it!”
She turned abruptly, triumphant, and pulled a long, shimmering gown made of green fabric from the rack. It glowed like iridescent beetle wings, catching the cold light as she draped it over one arm.
“For the female,” she declared.
Noelle’s stomach tightened.
“Uh…” she began.
But the alien wasn’t listening. She whirled again, grabbing two small pieces of dark leather from a lower rack — leather scraps, really, more like loincloths than clothing.
“Ah! And these are for you two.” She thrust the garments into Bright’s and Burn’s hands.
Burn stared down at the leather hanging from his fingers, his lip curling.
“What the fuck is this?”
Bright looked equally horrified.
“There’s not enough fabric here to cover much of anything,” he pointed out.
Noelle felt bad for both of them. The two warriors were still dressed in their black flight leathers and heavy black boots — a look of power and presence — but the alien was apparently eager to strip that away.
“The theme,” the alien announced, as though unveiling a masterpiece, “is the beautiful princess and her two barbarian bodyguards!” She clapped her hands delightedly. “Isn’t it marvelous?”
“No,” Burn snarled. “It’s fucking ridiculous.”
The alien’s voice sharpened like a blade.
“It’s required. Now get dressed — we are on a deadline.” She lifted the pain-collar remote, her thumb hovering just a little too casually near the glowing green buttons. “Don’t make me remind you of the consequences.”
Noelle swallowed hard. She didn’t need this right now—she really didn’t. Her breasts were feeling tender again — painfully so — and the ache between her thighs hadn’t fully faded since morning. Every breath brushed her chest against the inside of the red silk negligee Lupin had forced her into yesterday, and each tiny movement sent a tingling ache through her nipples.
Madre de Dios… was Lupin right? Is this because I didn’t go back and get the second treatment? Is something happening to me?
But she couldn’t think about that now. Not with the threat of the pain collars hanging over all their heads.
Hands trembling, she reached for the straps of the red negligee and began to pull it over her head while making absolutely sure she didn’t let her fingers brush her bare skin. One accidental touch, and the collar would shock her again—she didn’t want that.