Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 64359 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64359 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
In a lawless galaxy, a human woman is a universal breeding vessel.
I have been bought by five aliens.
They want to use me as their mate.
They want to fill me with their seed.
They want me to bear their babies.
But my past is catching up with me.
Powerful forces want me dead.
How far will my alien owners go to protect me?
And what will their protection cost me?
Alien Breed is a reverse harem romance containing dark capture themes. Reader discretion is required.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
1 SELLING MYSELF
Fertile human female available… I type my little description into the text box while kicking my legs happily off a seat that is way too high for me. It’s designed to standard alien sizing, which is about twice as high as a chair that fits me would be.
“Yum.”
I shove a spoonful of triple chocolate sundae into my mouth and enjoy the thrill of freedom along with the taste of rare and illicit food. This alien diner is pretty busy at the moment. Drone waiters zip between tables, dropping off plates of food, some of which looks good to me, others of which wriggles as if it’s still alive. Less palatable, but some aliens can only consume live prey.
I’m watching credits roll into my accounts in real time and trying not to giggle and kick my feet in glee, because this is a public diner and I don’t want to draw attention to myself any more than I already am. There are dozens of eyes on me right now. Six of them belong to one guy who literally has a pair in the back of his head and two on on the front. He’s watching me with the back eyes directly, and the front four are catching my reflection in the steel wall. There are plenty of others, too. You don’t often see a human female alone in illicit territory.
One half of my screen has my sale ad. There’re some very cute pictures of me there wearing the kind of lingerie you sort of can see through but also sort of can’t. Basically a sexy screen-door for my privates. I’ve really gone all out, but the truth is I could have taken pictures of myself wearing a full beekeepers suit, and I’d still be getting bids. The demand for human females in this sector of the universe is off the charts. There are practically no females of any species here. There’re several reasons for that. The biggest among them is that we are currently outside of what they call inhabited space. This is a sector of the galaxy where sentient life briefly considered arising from primordial goop, then decided better and just sort of went away. The only creatures here now are settlers looking to claim land, mineral extraction teams, and people on the run from dubious pasts. This is a sector of pure crime and anarchy. Good girls don’t come here, and bad girls don’t last long.
“Keep it moving,” I say, waggling my weapon casually in the direction of the alien who has been doing slow circles of the diner for a while now, working out what his best angle of attack is when it comes to me. I’ve been aware of him the whole time, just as I have been aware of every other pair of male eyes that intermittently locks on me with a curious and potentially predatory intent.
There’s a wary curiosity about me. I’m like a piece of meat hanging in the middle of the forest, tempting, and yet suspicious. Single human women don’t sit in places like this. The only reason I’m not getting more trouble is that most of the aliens here probably assume I am already owned, or that I am dangerous in a way that is not worth messing with. Uninhabited space is no place for stupid people of any gender or species, so most of the aliens I encounter have a healthy sense of self-preservation.
BING!
I glance back at my tablet and discover to my pleasure that my listing is marked as CONFIRMED SOLD. That’s good. It means my bank has confirmed payment with the auction house. I check my account and it’s impossible not to grin broadly as I see that this is actually working. The same balance that was practically zero a few days ago is starting to look really healthy.
Selling people is illegal in civilized space, but out here in the middle of nowhere, companies like Owned Mates are able to assist in the conveyance of sentient species to one another. They’d never keep their offices here, of course, but this is where they operate.
I check my bank balance, which is also held in civilized space. There’s twenty thousand credits so far. It’s a start. A good one, too. But it’s not nearly enough for a speeder ship. I need at least fifty thousand for the most basic model, which I’m going to need if I hope to put enough distance between myself and the things I need to run from. I need something with hyperspatial capacity, the ability to disappear entirely from one location and end up in another without any way of tracking my movements.