Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
He grinned at me—a soulless expression that didn’t reach his eyes—and then Mar’ra was marching me off to show me the best way to entice a Naggian man to buy my “virgin blood.”
Those first few days were full of horror for me—being bitten over and over and over again, having multiple pairs of ice-cold fangs sinking into my skin like sharpened icicles and trying not to watch as my “clients” slurped up my blood.
The Naggians naturally have much lower body temperatures than humans do—they’re actually able to control how hot or cold they get. And since they live in such a frigid environment, it makes sense for them to keep themselves pretty cold as well. So every time a Naggian male bit me, it feels like icy needles piercing my flesh.
I got used to it though—I had to. It was either that or freeze and starve to death and despite my horrible quality of life, I still had the will to survive. I kept telling myself that someday I would somehow get back to Earth, though I had no idea how or when that might be.
But some days, I felt like I was running out of determination and this happened to be one of those days…
“How much?” the prospective client asked again. He was tall and thin like all Naggian men but he was considerably better dressed than most of the men who bought blood from me, one bite at a time. His robe was long—a rich maroon with black curlicues embroidered all over it. It looked kind of like an old-fashioned smoking jacket to me, but it was the kind of thing all well-heeled Naggian men wore.
I wondered if the new fur coat I was wearing had anything to do with the uptick in my clientele. It had been given to me by another Earth girl who had also been sold by the Commercians to an alien male.
Her name was Elli and I had felt an immediate connection to her even though our friendship had lasted barely an hour. She wanted me to come with her when she left O’nagga Nine, but I wasn’t too sure when I heard how the alien who had bought her was treating her. He was her “Master” and she was supposed to be his “Pet.” I mean, she had a collar and everything!
It seemed pretty kinky to me, though don’t get me wrong—it’s not like I have anything against the Lifestyle or the Kink Community. But I wasn’t sure I would be welcome into the exclusive little relationship they seemed to have going. Plus, Elli told me they were headed to a whole different galaxy and I just wanted to go home to Earth.
Also, there was the tracker chip that R’xs had put in my neck. I had seen what he did to “his girls” when they tried to run away. One of them—a Blood Whore by the name of Ger’tha—had tried to get away with a client who fell in love with her but didn’t want to pay off her contract.
R’xs tracked them off planet and used a knife to basically carve off her face. Mar’ra, who had seen the whole thing, told me he had been grinning and humming to himself the whole time—like a man whittling or doing some other innocent, relaxing hobby to pass the time—even as Ger’tha screamed and begged and bled all over the place. She was still working for him, but she wore a hood now so clients wouldn’t be put off by the mass of raw flesh that was left where her face had been.
After seeing what had happened to Ger’tha, I had been too frightened to try and run away myself. So I had turned down Elli’s offer to go with her and “Sir” which was what she called her Master.
She hadn’t wanted to leave me with nothing, though, so she had given me the heavy fur overwrap she’d been wearing to keep warm, saying she wouldn’t need it when she left O’nagga Nine. I was more than glad and grateful to have it, too. It was much warmer than the ragged, second-hand fur I’d been wearing.
Though I hated to do it, I’d had to have the new coat dyed bright, poison green—I couldn’t legally operate as a Blood Whore unless I wore their signature color. But even dyed a garish green, the fur looked richer and more luxurious than my old coat.
It must be what was attracting this kind of client, I speculated. Either that or he just had a sudden taste for exotic blood and couldn’t find any anywhere else. His kind usually went to much higher class prostitutes called “Blood Brides.” They came from the upper echelons of Naggian society—girls who had fallen from grace in some way or were sold to help their family continue to live in the luxury and status they had become accustomed to.