Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Krake hadn't lied that sexual entertainment paid well in outer space if the penthouse was any indication. The cavernous room's hidden light sources gleamed softly off the pearlescent walls, floor, and ceiling. A half dozen couches were scattered about the space, each a different color, from deep red to vibrant violet. I had no idea what the material was, but somehow it looked expensive. Like outer-space high-quality leather. Aliens lounged on three of the couches. I considered myself a fairly worldly Earthling, but I wasn't otherworldly yet. The aliens appeared humanoid, but in a range of sizes, colors, and shapes.

"Do not stare," Krake ordered.

My eyes snapped forward.

At the far end of the space sat an actual throne.

"Are you kidding me?" I muttered.

"Do not speak," Krake responded, a low click following. I assumed that was a noise of displeasure.

I clasped my hands in front of me and tried not to disobey any of the rules. Krake and I walked toward the throne.

"Walk faster," he ordered.

I hadn't realized I'd been slowing my pace.

All too soon, we reached the throne, and the alien that sat upon it. Except…

"You're a human!" I exclaimed when I saw the woman sitting on the high-backed, sparkling chair.

Her long brown hair cascaded over a black t-shirt. She uncrossed her legs and leaned forward. Hands on her jeans, brown eyes now glaring at me, she frowned at my outburst. "Who is this woman?"

"She was hiding in a shipping container. Instead of disposing of her, as is customary with stowaways, I would like the opportunity to train her to be an Obedient," Krake said, sounding formal.

"Did you not instruct your potential Obedient?" the Collector asked in response.

"I did," Krake confirmed. "She struggles with instruction."

"That does not bode well," the woman said, her frown deepening.

A sense of misgiving rose. I opened my mouth to ask a question, then thought better of it. Now might be the time to shut the fuck up, I realized, and swallowed against the anxious bile burning my throat.

"I am not a human," the woman on the throne contradicted me. "But I was on Earth and this shape made the most sense."

As I stared, the woman's flesh bubbled and stretched, changing before my eyes from a human-appearing female to a hairless humanoid with beige skin, no nose, black depthless eyes, and no lips. Naked. Or naked appearing, I supposed. The Collector looked smooth as a genderless doll. Freaky.

"I am the Collector. I am any species. All species. Any sex. Anything I need to be."

Remembering Krake's many admonishments to remain silent, I nodded.

"Better," the Collector said in response. "She can learn." That was directed to Krake, and I bristled. "Tell me more about the Earth female."

"She is called Bailey Wicker and she is 28 Earth years old," Krake began, then provided the Collector with a summary of the information I had given him.

The clinical nature of it—like they were discussing livestock—chilled me to the core.

"I checked her over," Krake continued, "and although she is smaller?—"

Fuck you.

"—she is remarkably responsive sexually."

That was better.

"Bailey," the Collector addressed me, "tell me about your sexual experiences."

My eyes widened at the demand, but I knew better than to argue. An airlock beckoned, after all. "I'm not sure what you would like to know," I haltingly began. "Numbers, styles, toys—" I stopped when Krake made a low-pitch clicking noise.

The Collector's gaze remained impassive. "Have you had vaginal intercourse?"

"Am I a virgin?" A nervous laugh bubbled up. "Apologies. Yes, I have."

"Anal intercourse?"

I flushed. "Yes."

"Mouth intercourse?"

Mouth intercourse? Oh, right. Blowjobs. "Giving and receiving, yes."

"How many partners have you had?"

I considered asking if that was restricted to just vaginal intercourse partners, and decided to stop overthinking. I counted in my head. "Ten."

"What sexes?"

"Male."

"How many partners at one time?"

"One or two."

"Have you engaged in—" The Collector paused as if trying to find the right English word. "—kinky sex?"

I considered asking what level of kink the Collector meant and reminded myself to not overthink it. "Bondage and light spanking." My brain wanted to explode from the personal nature of the questions. And yet, the Collector didn't seem moved by either the questions or my answers. At all.

"Are you submissive?"

"Not hardly," I retorted, then bit my lip. That was the wrong answer. I needed to save this interview. "But," I blurted out, "as you yourself noted, I can learn." I gave a wide smile. The Collector needed to believe me. That airlock was just waiting to be used if I fucked up.

The Collector waved a hand. "Demonstrate."

"Demonstrate?" I echoed.

"Take off your clothing," Krake demanded.

Oh. Demonstrate. I risked a glance in his direction. He stood with his hands folded over his chest. If I had to guess, he was glaring at me.

"Now."

Faster than before, I stripped off my clothing and stood naked before Krake, the Collector, and the assembled aliens behind me on the couches.

"Drop your hands to your sides."

I hadn't realized I'd folded my arms over my breasts. At Krake's command, I allowed them to fall to my sides.

"Turn, so that the Collector can see what they'll be getting."

Like a piece of meat on a spit, I slowly turned in a tight circle. As I faced away from the Collector, I saw that the aliens on the couches weren't even watching the show before them. They appeared engaged in conversations amongst themselves. How often must displays like this take place? When I faced the Collector again, I stopped moving, waiting for the next order from Krake. I wanted so much to bolt from where I stood, anger coursing through me at their treatment. And yet, my nipples stood erect despite the warmth in the room. The familiar desire was building inside. Part of me definitely enjoyed being on display.

Krake recounted to the Collector our activity outside the shipping container. My face burned at the matter-of-fact way he described bending me over and fingering me.

The Collector nodded at the recital.

"We will demonstrate something different here," Krake concluded.

"Continue," the Collector said.

"Bailey, look at me," Krake commanded.

I did.

"You must be able to follow all orders."

I nodded, though fear shot through me at the unknown orders.

"Get on your hands and knees."

I froze.

"Get on your hands and knees," Krake repeated. "Now."

I couldn't make my body obey. It was such a simple command, really, but I couldn't do it.

"Do it now," he said, "or the interview is over."

Shaking, I lowered myself before him. My hands touched the softly glowing floor. Its warmth was not comforting. My knees lowered to take position. I held my head up, maintaining eye contact.

"Lower your head."

After a slight delay, I did.

"Enough." The Collector's voice cut through the room. "She may stand."

I scrambled to my feet, my arms folding to cover my breasts again.

"Dress," the Collector directed me.

I did so, even faster than I'd removed the clothing. The degradation of being on my hands and knees in front of a room full of alien strangers was something I could barely comprehend.

"Krake," the Collector said, "she will be disposed of. She did not pass the interview."

A wave of fear almost knocked me over. "I failed?" I squeaked out, before spinning to grab Krake's arm. He stared at my hand, gripping his lower arm, but did not pull away. "Please. I can learn. Don't let the Collector dispose of me."

Krake looked at the Collector. "I believe she has promise. We are still some time from the Auction. I would like that time to work with her."

"The finder's fee would be useful to you?"

"Yes, Collector. I have not yet found my Runner."

"Who are you looking for?"

"He's a Zovan."

The Collector paused, presumably to think.

I, meanwhile, was intrigued by that word—Runner—again, as well as another apparent alien species, Zovan. What did they look like? Would I live long enough to find out?

"I have not seen a Zovan on this ship," the Collector said.

"That is too bad."

"Since the fee may benefit, I will give you special dispensation to work with the human female to bring her up to standards," the Collector concluded. "You have until the Auction. Or she will be disposed of."