To that end, a small table with huge seats has been placed in the center of the room.
The seats are massive – even by the standards of my huge frame. They’re clearly designed for Toads, who are frequent visitors to casinos all across this sector. That’s why the chairs are so wide – designed to comfortably accommodate their fleshy bodies.
This planet hasn’t seen Aurelians for over a decade. Perhaps once we establish ourselves here, the casino will make chairs specially designed to accommodate our leaner, more muscular frames.
I take my seat, and Don Sloor sits down at the table across from me. Behind each of us are five more chairs – the maximum allowed for each team of advisors.
I size up my competition. I can already tell that Don Sloor is not the average Bullfrog. I know instantly that he’ll be a cunning opponent – across the poker table, or in a hand-to-hand battle. He’s confident, powerful, and over-aggressive.
He is Daroo incarnate, in fact.
I think back to the battle in the fighting pit – how Daroo’s initial charge was so strong and confident, but poorly planned. I remember watching the fighter’s face fall when he received that cut across his chest, and realized that Draven was merely feinting – not the weak opponent he’d imagined him to be.
I want to see that same expression on Don Sloor’s flabby, jowly face – but I fear it won’t be easy. I already get the impression that I’m outclassed at the poker table – and if this game goes the way I fear it might, the fate of Danielle will be decided with blood and swords, not chips and cards.
The only thing that keeps me calm is Ashley’s comforting presence beside me. She’s nervous – I can feel it coming off of her in waves – but reassuring her gives me my own strength.
I pat my lap, motioning her to sit across my knee.
Chapter 11 Ashley
The room is filled with testosterone, as Evander squares off against his rival.
I’d been elated earlier – thrilled when Evander had secured Lisa from that slobbering, slimy Bullfrog. But now, I can tell something is wrong. There’s just too much confidence coming from the Bullfrog leader.
Has Evander met his match?
As if sensing my thoughts, Evander pats his lap. I know I have to play the role of a submissive pleasure slave, so I clamber up onto the towering Aurelian’s knees – feeling so tiny and vulnerable compared to him.
Yet for some reason, my presence strengthens him. Evander’s aura of quiet confidence stabilizes. I look up at the stern, marble-like face of this gorgeous man, and my trust in him swells.
Don Sloor, on the other hand, fills me with nothing but disgust.
I never thought I could hate anyone or anything as much as I loathe that slimy monster. He has my best friend on a leash, and he constantly yanks her tightly to his side, not caring that the collar around her neck cuts off her breathing.
Don Sloor keeps her close because Danielle has been equipped with a spray bottle. The wetsuits of the Toads are already designed to keep the aquatic alien species moisturized and cool, but these four Bullfrogs must share Peter Paradooli’s love of making women serve him against their will. Don Sloor delights in forcing Danielle to spritz him with water every few moments – yanking on her leash if she lingers too long between pulling the trigger of that spray bottle.
But if that’s the worst ordeal Danielle has had to face, she’s lucky. I’m just glad the Bullfrogs are so obsessed with gambling that they headed straight to the casino after the auction – and didn’t immediately bring their new slaves to their aquarium to…
I shudder. I don’t even want to think about what they intended to do to Danielle, Lisa, and their other slaves.
I think back to before all this began – when it was first announced that we were going to be sold at slave auction.
The whispers had started almost immediately, as we all contemplated our possible fates. There was no dissent among Peter’s unwilling slaves. Nothing could be worse than being trapped in a Toad aquarium.
The spaceships of the Toads, and their Bullfrog sub-species, are designed to mirror the environments of their swampy home worlds. The vessels are murky and damp, swilling with fetid water like the swamps and wetlands that the Toads were spawned in.
In addition to just being miserable – stinking, and dirty, and disgusting – the environment is hazardous to species without the robust immune system of the fetid Toads. Many of the slaves they buy die needlessly; killed by minor infections that turn serious when the Toads figure that even basic medical treatment is an unnecessary and expensive inconvenience.
I’ve even read that the Toads and Bullfrogs themselves sleep in that dank and dirty water – floating up and down alongside their festering slaves. They rut with them there – and I don’t even want to think of the horrid couplings that take place in such a bog.
I’ve never met a slave who’s had to endure such a thing – but we all discussed it before the auction. All of us agreed; you’d just need to turn your brain off, and let your soul die a little as you endure the gross indignity.
I shudder at the thought, and Evander gently strokes my shoulder as I sit on his lap. He calms me, as though I’m his pet, but I feel no indignation with him doing so.
If Evander saves my friend, I’ll do more than let him pet me. I’ll give this towering, gorgeous warrior everything and anything he asks for. I’ll be so grateful to him that I’d do anything for him.
And it’s not as though I’d owe him – I wouldn’t be complying to repay an unspoken debt.
No, I’d happily serve Evander, and Conan and Augustus, just because it feels right
