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Slavers. Sagri far more brutal than the Jogarth or the Vendaren. They sold, traded flesh and that could be anything .
Those, such as the Uman. Raiding their
homeworld, For Constance, a slave, now forcibly relabelled, 33di2; her home world had seen an invasion force, attacking an isolated colony.
Their defences weak, borderline non existent as they had only just arrived and though the colony itself had established a foothold, it was NOT yet capable of protecting the dome.
These Sagri, were terrifying. Ugly, stinking and when they spat, clearing their ‘throat’ what followed, ejected, on their victim, was a thick wad of flem.
It was not, her body THEY indulged in. To them, she was a commodity, tradeable and whoever paid the highest price in Drax OR an agreement re tradeable goods.. got her.
Some of the worst. Auctions they were lined up, prodded. teeth examined, taut breasts nipples squeezed, thighs fingers,
Well if, you could call them fingers; poking, prodding. NOT for breeding.
She had NO cervix, no womb.
Ornamental, the pleasure receptors where any other would find them. Some, were used to produce certain hormonal drugs, essences. Then drained.
That ‘process’ repeated. until the well dried up.
Sold on cheap, disposable, sometimes the organs removed, frozen, for selling, trading.. anything, that could be sold especially to the DIJITS. Beings who were part silica based with organic composites (parts).
The remaining flesh was shoved into a processor, ground up and the mush sold as pet food.. the Zealots, were one of their customers.
Thus Constance 333di2 had finally resigned herself to her fate. NO one was coming to her rescue. Isolated from the others now being loaded onto this strange craft.
We could say, it was a tall ship. Masts and all. Sails, well not so much but the rest was renais Solus3 (Earth). Once aboard the chains were attached as now the real terror began.
The ‘masters’ made the Zealots look like wannabe pets. Strapped to the masts appeared to be a favourite form of pleasure for them. 
Fay and Jerru, were forced to copulate or should we say fornicate. whilst their masters looked on the bets paid and the true terror unleased upon the two of them.
Beatings, energy whips, burns, stabbing and the heavy set chains smashed against them. If Jerru had been protective of Fay.
Ttrying to shield her and taking some of the beating it had made those delivering the hell smash them even harder.
Constance, was forced to watch as they crumpled, bleeding to the ‘deck’.
Finally unable to move as she was stripped then watched as a male approached.
The same was to happen to her. She knew now what was going to happen all too well,.
She wet herself, trembling as the hot flush of her body discharging itself across her thighs, down her legs..
Her masters cheered. One of the bets was on how long it would take for this primitive to pee itself..
Poo? That was also an extra bonus..
Extra points if it happened BEFORE copulation had finished. Sometimes the cheats slipped a concoction to force an emptying of the bowels.
The male was huge, she had never seen such a TALL, thick set male. Muscular, strong looking and yet he stumbled obviously drugged though the marks of being beaten had left noticeable scars.
The closer it got, dragging it’s feet, stumbling and muttering incoherently, the more she shook until it
happened. The cheers again as she emptied her bowels, the stench was overpowering.
Constance crumpled, onto her knees her head lowered as the tears formed misting her eyes and her lips trembled as she brought her hands together in prayer?
For a moment, the words from her, pleading, begging, NOT to her captors but to the Gods.. for a merciful end to all of this? More laughter. jeering and the chains on her pulled as she was dragged off her knees to prostrate before the male.
He, had dropped, to kneel close to her. “It is no good he had whispered to her BUT I too desire a quick death so I will end yours and release your spirit.
They, will gut me slowly, if I become unconscious they will wait, revive me and do it all over again.
That can take hours.. I have seen it only once, but the screams have long lingered within all that I ever was.
I will wash you down. They, will be amused, but do nothng to stop me. That way, when you go to meet your maker, you will feel clean.
When you do, meet your maker.” He leaned in closer.. “Put in a good word for me?
I have not always, been a good one. I have killed others but mostly here to please them so I am hoping, the creator, will be forgiving. 
She trembled as he gently moved her to bathe her. Just as he had said their captors were laughing, spitting at them telling him to bathe her in their flem.
“Thankyou.” The words slow and barely legible. “You are a good man, I will be sure you have nothing to fear when YOU meet the creator.”
His hands squeezed her as the water flushed across her back to run down her side onto the deck.
“What did they call you.” She caught her breath. “Constance, they called me Constance.”
“Enough.” The loud deafening roar, from one of those, stood close, who kicked out, to cause the male, to collapse on top of Constance.
“You will take her! Do whatever you want with her, SLAVE!” He went to move, when Jerru, bruised, beaten and, barely able to stand, shifted.
Pulling himself up, the muttering, the cursing and the staggering, towards one of those looking on.
The wood in his hand, torn from a piece of broken decking now raised, the fist lowered, against the chest of the captor. Slammed in with all of the energy he could summon up.
A force, to rip open, the body and slice into the beating heart, green goo splashing out across Jerru.
His hand inside, tearing out the heart, raising it to throw it another one of them.
NOTHING happened. Truth might be that their captors had never seen this EVER happen before.
Then he was set upon. Kicked down, beaten and ripped open but not enough to kill him.
Constance had shifted, with her guy to one side on her knees her hands once again in prayer, the prayer of the dying on her lips. Held in his arms as she whispered softly chanting the final words.
Ready for death.
THEN it happened. A craft dropped to smash the mast off the vessel.The beings that poured out were the same as Jerru. His race, his people. The slaughter was relentless. 
NONE, of his captors were left alive. Constance was now shaking again as Nai pulled her in close.
“You have nothing to fear. These are my people.”
One of the females, approached to hand him a cloak, he wrapped it around Constance.
Naked he stood, lifted her into his arms, careful not to fall, as he stepped towards, those waiting to give them some care.
Pointing to the beaten body of Jerru. “Treat him as though he were my btaa.. (brother). HER.”
He pointed towards Fay who was next to Jerru tears down her face.. “As my Siisu (Sister) and they are NOT to be parted.”
It would be some time later, that their recovery, had been surprisingly good. BUT, the means used, was an advanced method of tissue regeneration.
Fay was Co Joined with Jerru, she would not be separated from him. As for Constance, she had the choice of joining some of her own race but declined, she would not leave him.
In the shadow a figure moved. A priestess and as she stepped towards the crystal it glowed.
She, had witnessed, all that had happened, heard the cries, from Constance but most of all seen Jerru, as he tried to protect Fay.
Two different races and colour? What was colour to either of them. This guy was greedy for her, she was just as hungry and both of them could be heard through the pipework, the ventilation systems.
“Damm they, are sooo bad.” Constance, had tried, to avoid eye contact but grinned. THEY were almost as noisy. The fear and the aftermath of what she had been through had left its metal scars.
Waking up shaking in fear, the sweat on her all too clear as he had held her, comforted her until she fell asleep. A new drug had helped. The disturbances were getting fewer and fewer.
The slavers?...
had put a bounty on them.
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Copyright Jess Corbin - Jess Corbin Associates 2025 All ruights reserved.
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