Authors: Grace Goodwin
I tried to calm my racing heart, for I was not only bound in place, I couldn’t escape the room, the building and most especially, the life I now had to face. This drab room was nothing compared to what I’d already endured… and nothing to what was still to come.
But I couldn’t let this cold-hearted woman choose for me. Surely she’d send me to a harsh planet like Prillon, where the men were notorious for being hard and unforgiving, both in bed and out of it.
“Do you wish to claim the right of naming your world, Miss Day? Or do you submit to the processing center’s placement protocols?” Her prompt brought me out of my thoughts. Before she’d entered the room, I’d been subjected to their so-called processing. I’d been fully alert and awake when it started, watching images of various landscapes, men in all kinds of dress and appearance, even couples participating in various sexual acts, such as a woman on her knees and sucking a man’s cock.
Unfortunately, that had been one of the tamer images. Some images included two men taking a woman, some an entire room full of people watching as one woman was fucked. Bondage, floggers, sexual aids. The scenes had gone from deserts to pictures of the urban expanses of huge alien cities the size of New York City or London, from dildos and chastity belts to piercings and anal probes.
The images had moved faster and faster and I thought I’d remained awake, but I must have fallen asleep and had that weird, yet vivid, dream. When I awoke, the video screens were gone, but I was still bound to the examination chair.
I glanced up at her neutral expression, licked my lips, and replied, “I will accept the processing protocol selection.”
The woman gave a curt nod as she pressed a button on the tablet before her. “Very good. Let’s begin the placement selection protocol. For the record, state your name.”
I closed my eyes for a moment, then opened them, for I could still feel the lingering effects of that orgasm. It had been intense and it had been a
dream
. This was cold, hard reality. I doubted there would be real escape, or any real pleasure in my future. “E-Evelyn Day.”
I’d been about to say my real name, but remembered myself.
How could I forget?
“The crime for which you’ve been found guilty?”
It was hard to say the word. I still couldn’t believe I had agreed to such extreme measures, such lies. “Murder.”
“Are you currently, or have you ever been married?”
“No.” That was one of the reasons I was in this mess. I worked too much. I had no man in my life, no one to come home to. So I stayed at work, took extra shifts, and witnessed a murder.
“Have you produced biological offspring?”
“No.” I wanted to, someday, but with an alien? That hadn’t been in my childhood dreams. Why couldn’t I have met a sexy, single man who liked a woman with both a brain and generous curves?
“Excellent.” Warden Egara checked off a list of boxes on her display tablet. “For the record, Miss Day, as an eligible, fertile female in your prime, you had two options available to you to serve out your sentence for the crime of murder, life without parole in a Carswell Penitentiary located in Fort Worth, Texas.”
I shivered at the mention of the notorious prison that housed the most dangerous and cruelest of criminals. The entire plan to keep me safe until trial was to send me off-planet. Carswell, fortunately, wasn’t something I had to consider.
Warden Egara continued, “Or, as you chose earlier, the alternative of the Interstellar Bride Program. You were brought here to complete your assessment and matching. I am pleased to tell you that the system has made a successful match and you will be sent to a member planet. As a bride, you might never return to Earth, as all travel will be determined and controlled by your new planet’s laws and customs. You will surrender your citizenship of Earth and become an official citizen of your new world.”
Where would they send me? What kind of perverted insanity had my neuroscans shown this woman? Based on the vivid dream, it could have been anything. Would I go to a chieftain on Vytros or a rich merchant captain on Ania? One of the rough, patriarchal, outlier worlds?
I cleared my throat, for the words seemed stuck. “Can you… can you explain the choosing process? How do I know the tests made a good match?”
She looked at me as if I’d lived under a rock my entire life. “Really, Miss Day. You know how it works.”
When I remained silent, she sighed. “Very well. All prisoners are put through a series of tests. Your mind has been stimulated and monitored for both conscious and subconscious reactions so that we can make sure to match you appropriately with another planet’s customs and sexual practices. As you will be living there indefinitely, it is important that we send brides that are
worthy
of the leaders who request them.
“Each planet has a list of qualified males awaiting a bride,” she continued. “Your testing discovers the best world for you, then matches you to the most compatible candidate. Once your processing begins, he is immediately notified. Once done, you will be transported and you will awaken on your new planet. Your mate will be waiting to claim you.”
My wrists were still bound; I was able to clench my fists. “What if… what if the match isn’t good?”
She pursed her lips. “There is no coming back. Per Protocol 6.2.7a, we can’t force you to remain with someone incompatible. You will have thirty days to decide if the primary candidate is acceptable. If, after thirty days, you are not satisfied with your mate, you will be assigned another mate on that world and transferred. You will have thirty days to accept or reject each candidate until you settle down with a mate.”
“Do they… I mean, does he have the opportunity to reject me?” I’d been rejected by men. Many times. What would make a man on some far-off planet be any different?
“The matching program’s success rate is well over ninety-eight percent. You have completed the testing and we have confirmed your personal placement. I am confident you will be settled sufficiently. These mates, depending on the planet, need women to sustain their race, their culture, and their way of life. Females are valuable, Miss Day. This is why the interplanetary treaty was put in place. If, however, your mate finds you… unsatisfactory, you will be matched to another male on that world. Remember, you were matched to the world first, the mate second.”
“Will my mate know that I’ve been convicted of a crime?”
“Of course. The treaty demands full disclosure.”
“And they’re desperate enough to accept convicts?” I had never been found worthy enough to be a girlfriend, let alone a wife. Why would someone want me now that I was a convicted murderer? “Aren’t they afraid that I might murder them in their sleep?” I wouldn’t do that, but surely
they
didn’t know that. And would I be punished on their world for a crime I had supposedly committed here, on Earth?
The woman pursed her lips. “I guarantee, Miss Day, that when you meet any of the mates on any of the planets, you will understand. Rest assured that being murdered by a woman such as yourself will not be one of their concerns.”
I glanced down at myself in the drab, plain prison garb. I wasn’t a waif. I was… curvy. Even the stress of the past couple weeks, the upcoming trial and all that entailed, hadn’t changed my weight. I hadn’t seen a real mirror or any makeup in that time, so I could only imagine what I looked like. If I ended up with my mate looking like this, surely he’d refuse me even before he said hello.
The woman glanced at her tablet. “Are you done with your questions? I have another woman to process today.”
There really wasn’t much choice. I nodded. “I’m… I’m ready—” I swallowed. It was harder than I thought it would be to say the words that would change my life. “I’m ready to go off-planet and I will accept placement based on the testing.”
The woman nodded decisively. “Very well.” She pushed a button and my chair angled back as if I were at the dental technician. “For the record, Miss Day, you have chosen to serve out your sentence under the direction of the Interstellar Bride Program. You have been assigned to a mate per testing protocols and will be transported off-planet, never to return to Earth. Is this correct?”
Holy mother of God, what had I done?
I would come back to testify, but I was
really
going. “Yes.”
“Excellent.” She glanced down at her tablet. “The computer has assigned you to Trion.”
Trion? I scrambled through my memories looking for something, anything about that world. Nothing. I had nothing.
Oh, God.
But maybe that world had been the one in my dream. The rugs. The almond oil. The huge cock…
“That world requires detailed physical preparation for their females. Therefore, your body must be properly prepared before we initiate transport.”
My body will be… what?
Warden Egara pushed the side of my chair and to my shock, the chair slid toward the wall where a large opening appeared. The examination chair slid, as if on a track, right into the newly revealed space on the other side of the wall. The tiny room was small, and glowing with a series of bright blue lights. The chair lurched to a stop and a robotic arm with a large needle slid silently up to my neck. I winced as it pierced my skin, then all I felt was a slight tingling at the injection site. A sense of lethargy and contentment made my body go limp as I was lowered into a bath of warm blue liquid. I was so warm, so numb…
“Just try to relax, Miss Day.” Her finger touched the display in her hand and her voice drifted to me as if from far, far away. “Your processing will begin in three… two… one…”
Chapter Two
“The transfer must be wearing on the body, therefore she sleeps.”
I heard the voice, but didn’t stir. I was quite comfortable and I didn’t want to wake up.
“Yes, however, she has been like that for four hours
.
” This voice was deeper, more commanding, clearly frustrated by my state. “Goran, perhaps my mate was damaged in transport.”
Damaged?
“There does not appear to be any damage.” A different voice. “She is small and perhaps needs additional time to recover.”
Small? I’d
never
been considered small. Short, maybe, but small? That was almost funny. I couldn’t will my body to move, to see who considered me to be anything but my usual curvy, very solid self. It was as if I’d woken up from a long nap and I was content to stay that way. I felt warm and safe and secure, not on the brink of… oh!
My eyes fluttered open and I did not see the stark gray walls of the interior of the processing facility where I’d spent the past few days. Instead, I seemed to be in some sort of rustic structure, the ceiling and walls made out of sturdy canvas. I couldn’t see much of the space, for there were three men looming over me. My eyes widened at their size. They were formidably large and…
large
. I’d never seen a man so big, let alone three of them. Was their size normal?
Everything about them was dark. Black hair and eyes, black clothing over tanned skin. They reminded me of men from the Mediterranean region of Europe. But I had not been sent by the processing center to Europe, or even the mid-East, but off-planet. Trion? Where was that? How far was I from home? Warden Egara hadn’t said how far away this planet was before she’d swiped her finger across her display and had me transported. It had happened so fast, like falling asleep for a surgery and waking up afterward completely unaware of everything that had happened in between.
I was lying on my side, no longer in that uncomfortable chair in the processing room, but on a narrow bed. My wrists and ankles were no longer restrained and I reached up and threaded the fingertips of my right hand through the hair just behind my ear.
Yes. There it was. I released a pent-up breath. The small lump caused by the justice department’s implant, the device that they’d promised would bring me home someday. Until then, I had to survive as Evelyn Day, convicted murderer.
I blinked, confused, as I tried to get my bearings. I’d known about alternate planets my entire life, but images of them on the media were never provided. Transport off-planet was only allowed for military personnel or for women in the bride program. Because of this, I’d always imagined that aliens would be very different than humans, but I was most definitely wrong. These men, if they were examples of their planet’s race, were very handsome specimens and very human-like. Handsome perhaps wasn’t the correct word. Intense, virile, manly. Gorgeous.
Regardless, their power and harsh energy, their sheer size, and the very distinct possibility that they might hurt me had me scrambling backwards.
The wall was pliant against my back and I had to put my hand down to balance myself. I was on my hands and knees and the men’s gazes dropped from my face to my body. While the air was warm—wherever I was—I felt it against my bare skin. Looking down, I was definitely not in prison garb. I was naked.
“Where are my clothes?” I squeaked, trying to cover myself and looking around. The space was Spartan, containing only the bed where I sat and a table in the center of the space. The room wasn’t overly large, or perhaps it was the sheer size of the three men before me taking up most of the space. Large black trunks lined a wall and metal gadgets, looking like medical machinery from the hospital and appliances from my kitchen, sat upon them.
“You have been transported and processed as custom demands,” one of the men said.
“But, I’m naked.” My hands froze and I looked down when I felt my nipples. They had gold rings through them. If that weren’t enough, a gold chain ran from one ring to the other and hung down to just above my navel.
I… um, I had nipple piercings. I couldn’t turn my gaze from the strange sight. The hoops were smaller than a ring meant for a finger, the chain attached was thin like a cord and decorated with small gold discs.
“I see by your reaction that being adorned is not a custom on Earth.” I didn’t look up to see who spoke.