Page 3 of Taken By the Zypherian King

Now and then our captors would open the doors, home in on one or more of us, and pull her or them out. The acts were random, but from the looks of it, they knew exactly who they were coming for.

Again it was Swarqoir who filled us in. “It’s sex trafficking. The Mandours are the most successful traders of the universe.”

My stomach turned when she said that, but it wasn’t as if I hadn’t already suspected it. Why else would we be all female? Apparently all males in the universe were the same way as most men on Earth. Sex. Sex. Sex. That was all that mattered, and most didn’t care how they obtained it. Bought, taken, or given, for most it was the same.

“Right, as if the hundred of us would be enough for the entire universe,” Phoebe, a woman from Ireland, spat. She made an excellent point, though, and my gaze turned questioning to Swarqoir.

She shrugged and employed one of her most contemptuous glares at us. “This isn’t the only ship cruising through space, nor is this the only room on this ship.” With that, she turned her back to us.

Her words put a damper in my mood—which hadn’t been the best to begin with—and I made myself a nest on the ground from the many pillows and blankets strewn about.

The area we were being held in reminded me of images from old movies of harems. Women reclined gracefully on oversized pillows, helping themselves to the most delectable morsels from low tables. All of us wore the finest, albeit flimsiest, clothes possible. If what we were wearing could be called clothed. Most of our attires reminded me of what a certain princess wore in a certain science fiction icon movie series while being chained to a fat alien creature.

For tops, our choices were made up of bras of different designs, colors, and materials. Long loin cloths made up skirts, with slits all the way up to our hips, exposing half of our asses every time we took a step.

Some women took to wearing one or two of the blankets lying around in abundance, but most of us didn’t bother; it was just us here. Frankly, as exposing as our clothes were, they were also more comfortable than anything I had ever worn, giving me a unique freedom.

Every morning, our alien captors forced us to put on makeup and dress our hair as if we were about to be auctioned off. This was the one requirement put on us, and disobedience or a half-assed job brought immediate punishment dished out by an electric jolt straight into our brains from the translator chip.

After witnessing the punishment once, on Phoebe, I never disobeyed. None of us did. Every morning, we primed ourselves as if we were going on the hottest date of our lives.

The rest of the day we spent at our leisure. Lying on cushions, talking, dozing, playing games. Games that we made up with the help of food, cups, plates, whatever. All day we just laid about, waiting. Waiting for our turn to be called out. To meet whatever fate our slave masters deigned to bestow on us.

The stories the other women told didn’t differ much from the stories I had heard on Earth about sex trafficking. I forced myself not to think about it. To only think about escape. Because once I would leave this spaceship, there had to be a way to escape, right?

I never bothered to explore where I would escape to. Going back to Earth seemed like an impossible dream, but anywhere should be better than this gilded cage, I reasoned.

When they came for me, I cried out in fear, staring at the other captives who averted their eyes just like I had done countless times when the wardens came for another woman. There had been nothing I could have done for them, and there was nothing my fellow prisoners could do for me.

Two burly alien males held me by the arms, while a third assessed me from head to toe. He realigned my bra, patted my hair to keep the long blonde tresses I was so proud of in place, and finally grunted his approval.

When a tear slipped down my face, taking eyeliner and mascara with it, he took my chin sharply between his claws. Impatiently, he wiped the dark streak away, his black eyes burning with anger.

Too afraid to find out what would happen if I disobeyed, I forced the rest of my tears back before I began to hyperventilate.

A sharp prick in my arm, a warm mollifying liquid moving through my system, later I felt as if I were floating. I even smiled as I walked on clouds, down to a warm, sandy beach. Exotic birds flew in the sky; my feet touched warm water that swept at me with gentle waves.

Deep down in my mind, I was aware that I was hallucinating, but it felt good, so good, and I prayed I would never wake up from it.

ZAYDEN

Impatiently, I paced my chambers. Ever since seeing the holo image of the human female with her blonde hair and pale skin, I had been in a constant state of anticipation.

No female had ever stirred me like this one. None.

During the last several rotations, any thought of female companionship had taken a large step back because of the war. Any kind of sexual contact had been quick and impersonal, usually done inside a dank tent because I hadn’t been able to afford any better. Every last credit to my name was deeply invested in troops and weapons, until now.

Now I enjoyed the luxuries of the king’s palace, and I wasn’t about to look back.

Lately, females had been throwing themselves at me, hoping to become queen, but my sexual appetite had diminished since I knew what they hungered after, and it wasn’t me.

The crown was a strong lure for them, one that made them even overlook my body, which wasn’t as attractive to females as those of other courtiers and males of noble rank.

Thanks to the war, where fighting and training had eaten up all my days, my body was thick and muscular, a warrior’s body. Definitely not what court ladies desired. They wanted the round and soft bodies of courtiers, proclaiming their statues as males of rank and fortune. They craved the sweet nature of a courtier, not the roughened edges of a battle-hardened male. That they would only endure because it would make them a queen.

I wasn’t sure what my new bride would think of me, but I hoped I would appeal to her as much as she already did to me. If I could have, I would have forgone the training and allowed my body to soften again, but I was worried another challenger to the throne would step up. Even though I now had the advantage of deep coffers, could afford more warriors, I was sure that my victory was in large part due to my fighting right alongside my warriors. I hadn’t sat back on transporters, watching the battle conclude. I had been right there in the fray, giving my males incentive to fight harder, stronger. Even when we had been grossly outnumbered or maybe because of it.

I wasn’t about to give that advantage up now. Not even for the female who would be my queen.

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