The piece in question – the painting owned by that human doctor – is an original by the famed artist Deerda Mali. She was an infamous anti-Aurelian freedom fighter, whose beautifully painted canvases – depicting scenes of chaos and fire – are far more enticing than even the real-life bodies of the beauties in our harem.
I think that’s because they’re real. The women of our harem – beauties like Kendra and Sarah – are ‘real’ too – but our connection to them isn’t, because none of them are our Fated Mate. Even the pleasure of emptying my balls into Kendra’s tight little cunt, or Sarah’s warmly sucking mouth, doesn’t speak to my soul like Deerda Mali’s art does.
Sarah finishes the dishes. It didn’t take long – we’re not messy.
“I’ll be waiting for you, Cyrus.” Sarah bats her eyelashes at Cyrus as she peels off her dish gloves. She’s a seductress, that one. Sarah has been in our harem for three years now – even though she could have left and drawn a lump-sum payment, in addition to being entitled to free education at an Aurelian institute of higher learning, after just a year of service.
Instead, though, Sarah is content in her life. Why wouldn’t she be? We treat her well enough.
She’s not alone, either. Human woman are all alike. They all crave the harsh, rough mating we indulge in, and the dominance of our species. Life in an Aurelian harem offers comforts most human women in this universe don’t have access to – and the spankings and playful punishment are either not difficult to endure, or often actually pleasurable for their kind.
Like most Aurelians, we offer the members of our harem access to the finer things of life. In fact, we have women begging to join us – but we reject the majority of those who apply. While many are beautiful –especially by human standards –most of these eager women don’t have the scent of a potential mate on them. We can smell it as soon as we meet them – and why waste their time or our own if there’s no possibility they could be our Fated Mate?
Those that do smell of possibility – bearing that alluring scent that draws us Aurelians into a frenzy of lust and desire – are the most painful to encounter. The odds of any one of them being our Fated Mate are so remote it’s tempting to reject them right away, rather than face the disappointment that awaits us when we finally confirm that bitter truth…
…but, how could we? Even if there’s a chance in a million – a billion – we have to take it.
Finding our Fated Mate – seeding her, and protecting her as she bears us strong sons – is the purpose of all Aurelians; and a drive that even we can’t ignore or deny.
But it’s heartbreak each time. The better they smell – the more tempting these women’s heady scent, offering the possibility that they’re the one – the harsher the letdown when we finally mate with them and confirm that they’re not our Fated Mate.
After that, we feel obligated to them – and so those women remain in our harem. They cook, and clean, and split the domestic tasks between the thirty of them.
They perform other tasks, as well… But while these willing women continue to eagerly offer us sexual relief – and we continue to accept their offers, when our balls become painfully full and heavy – these women are a constant mockery of what an Aurelian’s true purpose is, and how they cannot provide the one thing we need:
Our mate…
Without that, life seems so meaningless. We busy ourselves with such ridiculous distractions, but nothing can fill that void.
I could build my collection of arts and treasures for a thousand human lifetimes, but it would still never give me the satisfaction I seek. No matter what we fill our estate with – women for our harem, my beautiful art pieces, or Varian’s barrels and bottles of fine wine – we will still lack the only possession that will ever have any worth or give our lives any meaning.
Her.
The bitterness wells up inside my thoughts. I close my mind, taking a deep breath, and then slowly exhale. As I do, I let out all my resentment. I don’t want to sour the mood with it.
Feeling more level, I stand from the sofa, drawing my toga around me. The outfit is traditional to Colossus, our Aurelian home world, but is also well-suited to the harsh, arid climate of Deemak. It’s a good choice of clothing – because I know when we reach the marketplace, the air will be dry and harsh. We’d take something to protect our lungs from the sand and grit, but the locals look down on those who use a mask to breath; another cultural quirk of this frontier world.
“Let’s go,” I command – and I hear an unexpected eagerness in my voice. It buoys me – I relish in collecting art, and even if I’m without our Fated Mate, it feels good to have something to be passionate about.
The feeling before we secure a deal like this is exciting. It’s similar to fucking a woman you’ve never been inside for the first time – that delicious anticipation. We could turn up at this doctor’s house and discover this painting to be a legitimate original Mali – just like every woman we sink our dicks into for the first time could be our mate.
The three of us stride outside into the bright, arid sunshine.
Beyond our doorway, you might not even realize you were on an arid, desert world. The grounds around our estate are rich and opulent, with well-tended and watered lawns, towering palm trees, and beautiful flowers.
The lush greenery continues beyond the gates. Our neighbors to the left are a noble human family, directly related to the
