Tara, a crashed pilot, has spent months being waved in front of the arena fighters as a pleasure option. There have been no takers.
The day that a fighter looks at her and promises to make her his, Tara’s life freezes. She watches him fight and wants him to win, but is terrified of the consequences if he does.
Galeno has no interest in the arena. His sole interest is in the soft female sitting on the podium. She is his and it will be a short time before she knows it.
Tara held still as her keepers came for her once more. She didn’t fight the grooming, but this time they stripped her of every vestige of body hair, including that on her head.
“Oh, dear Morla. You shouldn’t have gone that far.” Another of her keepers frowned at the chestnut locks lying on the floor.
“Well, they said to remove all body hair, and that was on her body.” Continuing their ministrations, they had her tugged into a net suit to support her anatomy and yet leave nothing to the imagination. The vine cuffs on her wrists were meant to be decorative, but in reality were restraint cuffs that would send severe electroshocks through her body at the whim of a remote control. Tara had learned that over the last three months, the hard way.
They had salvaged her from her crashed ship as a pilot from an Alliance shuttle. To the minds of those who found her, that made her free goods to trade on the black market. So trade they did.
That is how she, Tara Kelis, ended up on this unnamed world as a prize in a great fight competition. Each day they prepared her, and each day they marched her out. She sat in her little dais and waited for a winner to choose her, even for one night, but it never happened. The women on daises to either side of her were Selna and they had a thousand times the sex appeal of one lost little human.
The daily champion always chose them—it was never Tara and she liked it that way.
A gong rang, it was time to enter the arena and take their poses. Tara smirked as they pushed a feathered headdress on her head before sending her out. The shaving of her head was a mistake that the crowd would not let her soon forget.
She waited in the staging area for the next gong, and as one they stepped forward and settled into comfortable positions. For Tara it meant one leg crossed, one leg bent at the knee and an arm covering the obvious attributes of her breasts.
On the lavender mesh that they had framed her with, this was as comfortable as she was going to get.
One final gong rang, and she braced herself. It was the fighters. They were coming in, and as always, they would make lewd comments to her and the other two, promising to win them all. One dark eyed fighter with golden skin stopped by her dais and looked her in the eye. “You will be mine this evening, and for as long as I choose.” Shivers ran through her at his deep sultry voice and when the words finally registered, she went into shock for the rest of the day.