A Sex Slave To Alien Masters (Erotica)

“At least that’s something to look forward to then.”

“Damn straight. I’m all about dishing out good incentives.” She then highlighted this point by lifting her hand to salaciously suck her index finger between her lips. The slow movement was accompanied with a soft moan, and he instantly recalled how good those lips could feel.

“You know it’s not all that easy to fight with a raging boner, right?” He lofted a brow at her actions.

“It’s been my experience that you always do your very best work with a raging boner,” she playfully nudged him with her hip and they both managed a laugh, though it was subdued by frayed nerves.

As their laughter died down, the entrance to the proving grounds came into view in the distance; looming with the promise of battle and possible grievous injury. It was a simple black arch, forged of orcish metal, and a reminder to all who passed beneath it of what they were about to undertake. Greg let out a long breath to try and silence the little voice in his head shouting: “Run, you idiot!” Deep breathing also helped quite a bit in avoiding the anxiety puke that had been quietly brewing in his stomach since he’d stepped out of the camp.

“Ok then, we’re here.” He tried to sound determined, but his voice came out a little bit higher in pitch than he’d have liked it to.

“Hey! You know I love you, right?” She reached up to take his face in her hands and guide his attention towards her rather than the ominous test that lay ahead of him. “I mean, I’ve never known anyone like you. I don’t know anyone who could even try to do something this crazy. But you? It’s not just that you’re going up against a bunch of very dangerous green giants because you think it’s the right thing to do. It’s that I really do think you’ve got a pretty good chance of going up against a bunch of very dangerous green giants… and beating the living shit out of them.”

That brought a fresh smile to his face, and it relieved some of the invisible weight that had begun pressing down on him.

“Ok, you’ve got to go,” She slipped her hand around his head and pulled him into a firm kiss that went a long way to lifting quite a bit more of that weight. “Before you do… if you do get in trouble in there? Don’t get scared. Get angry.”

“Greg smash.” He nodded. “Got it.”

“Now go kick some ass.” She stepped back and gave him a firm pat on the behind.

“Yes ma’am.” He nodded with a little salute. “And thanks, Jan.”

With that, he turned and jogged off to the entrance of the provings with a final wave back to her before disappearing beneath the black arch.

“He is ready.”

Janette turned around when the familiar voice sounded off behind her, and she saw Algra striding up to her side. The orc had evidently been following throughout their walk.

“I thought you were sleeping in this morning?” Janette smiled, knowing full well that Algra wasn’t about to spend the morning in bed when Gregory was in the provings.

Algra glanced to her out of the corner of her eye and the corners of her lips turned upward. She didn’t offer any explanation of the matter. The two women had grown close enough in their time together that speaking of such things was no longer necessary.

“You should have come with us,” Janette added after a moment. “He needs all our support.”

“He has our support. He knows this. Now, in hours before battle starts, he steels his mind to the fear. Fear is normal in war; but it takes hold of many all the same. A warrior must spend the hours before a fight holding off that fear. For this, he needed you.”

“Yeah? Because I’m such a freakin’ inspirational bastion of badassery?” Janette rolled her eyes.

“No, because best way to hold off fear in battle is to think of what is being fought for. He fights for his home, and you are the closest thing he has to that. You are also good in talking. Me?” She gave one of her characteristic dismissive grunts as if to highlight the point that she probably wasn’t suited to be giving pep talks.

“Huh, well thanks, I guess. Let’s go find some seats then.” She stepped up beside Algra and smoothly linked arms with her, which the orc allowed without question. “I’ll buy the popcorn.”

“What is-”

“Never mind.”

– – – – –

“Hey guys,” Gregory greeted his pack, who had already arrived at the proving grounds with one exception. “Where’s Nullik?”

“I’m here! I’m here!” Nullik hopped into the training area whilst still evidently putting on the basic armour that the pups wore.

“Where have you been?” Ulf asked him.

“I may have gotten access to Ulag’s private ale stores last night. I could have overindulged a little. It’s possible that I woke up in a drinking trough this morning and spent the better part of two hours looking for someone to sell me a decent hangover cure. Where the hell was your White Woman, Greg? I had to go to the medicine huts and pay through the fucking nose.”

“It’s her day off.” Greg tried to sound as passive as possible before turning to Ulf. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner, Alpha.”

“You’ve earned some respect, Gregory Hopkins. Nullik struggles with that concept.” Ulf grunted before shaking his head when Nullik offered a rude gesture in reply.

“What’s this!?” Ulag’s voice boomed out signalling his approach to where The Runts were waiting. “Where in all the dark realms have you idiots been? And why, by the First, is this thing still with you?” He pointed angrily at Gregory.

Ulf stood up with a respectful salute to the proving master, and the rest of the pack immediately fell in line and did the same. Gregory felt a tinge of anger rising in his chest whilst he offered his salute, but subdued it to focus on the pack instead.

“Master, we have taken leave whilst one of our pack recovered from injury. Since we could not field a full pack, we have not reported to the provings for any challenges. We have continued our training under a proven warrior, and she may vouch for our ability to fight this day. All of us.” Ulf stressed those last three words whilst his eyes shifted to meet those of the larger and older orc.

“Oh? And who would you wretches have found to waste their time trying to train you into something of any worth?” Ulag marched down the line with a nasty sneer on his face.

“Algra Strongblood, master.” Ulf called out the name and the noise of several other packs who were training nearby fell silent.This content provided by N(o)velDrama].[Org.

The mention of that name stopped Ulag in his tracks, and he turned to round his attention on Gregory. The sneer shifted into a snarl of frustration. Algra’s reputation was well known, and as the War Chief’s niece an open challenge to her could be seen as a challenge on Grolfir himself. It seemed that for a few moments Ulag tried to burn Gregory off the face of the earth with the power of his gaze alone, until he finally growled and rounded his attention on their new weapons.

“What’s this foolishness?” he asked.

“We aim to try something different if given the honour of a proving, master. These are our chosen weapons. None have a sharp edge or point, and cannot crack iron.”

“A shield!?” Ulag stopped when he saw the circular shield that Wrut carried. “This is a coward’s weapon. I wouldn’t have thought you of all people would want to wield such a thing.”