3. Mia

Shock and outragemake me see red. My cheeks burn with humiliation, and a furious gurgling sound rumbles from my throat. I thrash wildly against the rough rope binding my wrists, struggling in vain to break free from Orgel's grasp.

A wave of excited murmurs and crude whistles echo around the cavernous throne room, which only adds to my embarrassment. For God's sake, haven't these brutes seen boobs and bikini underwear before? I wish the cold stone floor would swallow me whole and hide me from their lecherous eyes.

"Silence!" King Renowlf barks and an eerie quiet falls over the throne room. His complete command over his subjects is both impressive and frightening. I'm not sure whether one man should wield such absolute power.

I'm mortified and trembling from head to toe, yet I refuse to let them break me. So, I rein in my anger, stand as tall as my five-feet-five-inch height will allow, and meet the king's gaze, daring him to say something nasty about my large breasts, wide hips, and full thighs.

I'm not ashamed of my body; my mama made sure of that. All of the women in my family have curves. But I don't tend to show a lot of skin because, in my experience, most people aren't comfortable looking at a scantily clad woman with extra flesh on her bones. Why should the orc king be any different?

But I didn't choose to be nearly nude in front of a room full of aliens. And I didn't remove what little clothing I had on; it was ripped from my body without my consent. So, I stand proudly, suppressing the urge to cover what I can with my bound hands, and allow King Renowlf to take a good long look at me.

And damn, does he look.

His eyes rake slowly down my body like a rough caress, lingering on my breasts, which jiggle slightly from my fast and shallow breathing. My nipples pebble under his close inspection, making his nostrils flare in response. I shiver despite the heat, and goosebumps erupt on my skin.

He continues his downward perusal, stopping again at the junction of my thighs. There's no gap there, yet he doesn't seem to mind, which sends a tiny pulse of pleasure straight to my clit. If panties really could melt, his molten stare would set mine on fire.

My bloody knees give him pause, and I almost swear the shredded flesh angers him. But that can"t be right...why would he care if I"m a little worse for wear? I"m just cargo to him, some human novelty that a disgusting trader hoped to peddle. He hasn't even agreed to buy me from Orgel yet.

The confusion I feel makes me antsy under his scorching stare.

When he has his fill, his eyes return to mine once again. Yet, instead of disgust and loathing, I see raw, unbridled desire.

Not at all what I expected.

I"m caught off guard by the intensity of the moment as we lock gazes and an electrifying current seeming to crackle between us. The world around me melts away until it feels like the king and I are the only ones in the room. A rush of desire confuses the hell out of me.

The look in his eyes intensifies even further, somehow growing hotter than the three scorching suns shining down through the skylight. Arousal washes over me, making me squirm, and yearning pools low in my belly. I really don't understand what's happening, but it's not entirely unpleasant. Must be alien magic. Or maybe voodoo.

My tongue flicks out and wets my lips, and his nostrils flare again.

Fleetingly, I wonder if his cock is hard under that loincloth. Assuming he has a cock. If the king feels even half as worked up as I do, my chance of survival is high.

The spell between us is broken when Orgel opens his big mouth. "Shall we discuss a price then?"

The king breaks eye contact. "How much can one dirty female be worth?" he says dismissively, as if the sensual spark between us never even happened.

Way to make a girl feel special, jerk.

So much for my chance of survival being high. Although Orgel's grinning like the cat who ate the canary, so he must know something I don't.

"Ah, but she's not just a female in need of a bath, sire. This one is special, just like the other females we procured from Earth."

Females, plural? There were there more human women on the transport ship? And I sure as hell wasn't procured. I was abducted!

"Special, how?" the king asks, although he seems skeptical.

"They're universal breeders who can conceive without your spikes," Orgel states with authority. "And I know how much you need an heir."