JUTARI

This little female is mine.

I know that the moment I see her. Messakah males tend to be territorial when it comes to courting a woman, and I feel no different at the sight of this strange little thing. I do not know what planet she hails from or how old she is. All I know is that when I see her frightened eyes gleaming with unshed tears and her small hands press against the glass, I know two things.

She’s mine.

And I’m going to rend from limb from limb anyone who tries to touch her.

“Keffing shrikt,” says Cthorn off to one side in our shared cell. “What the hell is that thing?”

“Got a cunt,” says Ast. “That’s all I care about. They need to drop that sweet bit in here so we can say hello.”

I turn and growl at him, baring my fangs. “She’s mine.”

There are a few angry murmurs between the other men in the cell, but they don’t dare disagree with me. I’ve got the brawn and the temper to back up my bad reputation, and no one’s ever crossed me twice. There’s a reason I’m locked up with this scum, after all. 

But to her? Ah, to my sweet little alien, I’d be so good. 

I watch her with an avid gaze as the ssethri guard pushes her against the glass. I can’t hear what he’s saying to her, but she looks upset. Her eyes flick back to mine, and then she stumbles away from the glass partition that separates us. I lower my hand, watching as Noku torments the little female. There’s no reason she should be in this part of the prison, and the only reason I can think is because he’s showing off his new “toy.” The guards like to claim the females here as their own.

Little does he know that this one’s going to be mine.

It’s a strange sensation to see a female—especially one of another species—and realize that I want to claim her. The Haven prison system isn’t where I imagined I’d meet a woman. Of course, now that I’ve seen her, it seems like the most natural thing in the world to want this creature. She’s small but brave, I can tell. There’s a fighting spirit that flashes in her eyes when the ssethri pushes her around. She wants to rebel against him, but she’s also smart. When he grabs her by the chin again and forces her to look at him, it takes every ounce of my strength not to go into a mindless rage and fling myself against the glass until it breaks—or I do.

But that will help no one. So I sit on my haunches, watch, and wait.

It’s even stranger to feel alive again. I’ve been dead inside for so long, it feels. From my days as an assassin after the wars, to the death of my larger-than-life father. I lost a piece of me when he died, and when I got stuck in this hellhole, instead of fighting to think of a way out, I let myself get sucked into prison life. Day by day, I let life pass by. I rub the inside of my cheek with my tongue, feeling the disk implanted there. It holds everything I need to escape…but I haven’t bothered. Haven’t even tried. There’s been no point.

I’ve existed for the last year, but I haven’t lived. Nothing mattered. Each day has been more forgettable than the last, and though there are many here that fear me, their faces are a blur. I have no friends, few allies, and many enemies. Nor have I cared.

I haven’t been alive until I saw her face.

The little female’s gaze flicks over to me again before the guard marches her away. I watch her go with a sense of loss that cuts through me. I can’t protect her from this side of the glass. I can’t keep her safe if the guards decide to attack her or if another prisoner gets through his mind that she should be his. I grit my teeth, suppressing the animalistic growl in my throat. 

Off to one side, Dremmigan pushes himself off the wall. “You interested in that one?”

I get to my feet, eyes narrowed. Dremmigan’s almost as dangerous as I am. Rumor has it that he slaughtered his entire crew because they wanted a cut of a credit heist and he didn’t feel like sharing. But we get along well enough, he and I. He’s clever, not stupid like Ast and Cthorn or any of the other dozen aliens we’re locked in this too-small cell with. I’m not in the mood to have a battle of wills over the female, though. “She’s mine,” I state again. It doesn’t matter that I haven’t met her formally or that there’s a glass wall and a hundred guards separating us.

It’s just a matter of time.

Dremmigan nods slowly and crosses two of his four arms. “Got a friend that works under that ssethri’s patrol. I’ll see what I can find out.”

“Get her name. And her species.” I turn back to the glass, watching as her small form recedes. “And tell me what your price is.”

Dremmigan chuckles low. “My price is what my price always is. A favor to be called out in the future. Doesn’t do much to bargain behind glass like this when we’ve got nothing.”

I grunt. He’s not wrong. He and I also think alike in that we both view the Haven prison as a temporary stop. This isn’t where either of us plans to die, so we’re waiting for the right moment. I’ve been here a year now, and Dremmigan five. He’s a hard bastard to last five here at Haven, but he’s still calculating and planning for the future, for when he’s free. And he’s known all over the prison itself. Got a hand in every pie, some like to say.

If anyone can get knowledge about the little female, it’s him. “Do it. I don’t care the price.”

“Didn’t figure you would.” He gives me a thin-lipped smile. “A female in this sort of place is a bad idea, though.”

He’s not wrong. It’s the worst idea. But that doesn’t matter now that I’ve seen her. She’s going to be mine. There’s no doubt in my mind. I glance over, and Ast has his hand down the front of his prison suit, stroking his cock. I growl in anger and run a hand down the long spike of my uncapped horns. “If that’s you rubbing your cock to my woman, I’m going to rip it off your keffing body and stuff it down your throat.”

Ast freezes. A second later, his hand emerges from his jumper and he slinks away to the back of the cell.

That’s better. No one touches himself to my girl.

When I say she’s mine and mine alone, I mean it.

CHLOE

I’m so relieved when Noku nudges me along outside of the maximum security cells and into a quieter hall. I feel like I can breathe here, and I don’t even mind that he’s getting a little rougher and handsier as we go. I’m hoping a lot of it is just posturing. I hope. We move into another corridor and then pause in another chamber as Noku types in another security code. 

I shiver, rubbing my arms as I think about all of the aliens in the maximum security area and how the guards just paraded me past like I was a toy. I have no doubt that if that glass was down I’d be a bag of meat like in that one cell. I shudder at the thought.

Strangely enough, I find myself thinking of the big blue male behind the glass. 

Not that he was human, or even necessarily a friend. But he didn’t look at me like he’d wanted to use and abuse me. Of course, I don’t know why he was in the maximum security cells. He’s probably just as awful as everyone else here.

That’s a far more likely scenario.

Noku takes me down another long hall, and then we pass through another antechamber. My stomach sinks when I see another honeycomb of cells, but this time the room isn’t very crowded. I see a few women standing around, and they look surprised at the sight of me. One whistles and calls in my direction. “Look! Fresh meat!”

“Quiet, Fem22-A.” Noku pushes me forward. “This is your new home, Fem14-H. The female barracks. You’re going to be here thirty hours a day, eight days a week unless you’re on a work shift.”

I’m a little depressed to hear that. It’s sterile and bare here. The few women here loiter in groups, though one or two are talking to guards in uniforms in the center of the room. We don’t ever leave here? I’m not going to see the outdoors ever again? I resist the urge to cry. Maybe I can get a work shift.

Noku glances around. He nods at the guards, who are looking at me with far too much interest. “Where’s Taantian?” 

Someone smirks, a bright pink, squishy-looking woman. “He’s with Irita.”

“He’s going to get his cock bit off by that one.” Noku makes a hissing noise again and then nudges me forward. “You’re in cell 14, to match your prisoner number. You’ll have a few days to adjust to your surroundings, and then I’ll come by and check on you.” He touches my hair again. “If you get into any trouble and need a protector, little human, you can come ask for me. I have a great deal of power in this place.”

It takes everything I have not to pull away from his touch. I won’t be asking for him. I just stare ahead, looking at the rows of honeycombs. Most are empty—it’s like Noku said. There’s not a lot of women here. The ones that are look…hard. And older than me. There’s a pair of graying women off to one side, huddled together. It takes me a moment to realize they’re not two women, but one with a strangely conjoined body that meets at the torso and ends in a long, snake-like end. The pink female is chatting with the guards, and another with a long, segmented body like a caterpillar watches me, a smirk on her face. There are two other older women with lined faces and gray bodies, and they remind me a bit of melted-looking aliens from an 80’s movie. As I glance around, two people emerge from one of the honeycombs. It’s a male guard of the same species as Noku, and he’s adjusting his clothing. After him, a red-scaled woman slinks out of the honeycomb. She wears a sweet smile and tilts her head at the guard, who puts something in her hand. The moment he turns away, she makes a face at him, showing her hate, and stuffs the item into the front of her jumper.

“Taantian! After me!” Noku calls, and the guard jumps, his six arms waving as he hurries forward. The one called Taantian gives me a startled look before moving to Noku’s side, and the two begin to whisper as they walk away.

I…guess I’m home.

“Oooh, is this someone new? A female? Let me guess the species.” The red-scaled woman saunters up to me. She’s human sized, if on the tall side, and walks proudly, as if she owns the place. Her eyes are a swirling gold, her short hair as red as her skin, and as she approaches I see she has tiny horns at her hairline. She adjusts the neckline of her jumper and gives me a sharp-toothed grin. “Sangulorian? No, too fleshy. Perhaps…Markkad?”

I grow uneasy as she keeps staring at me. “Am…am I supposed to guess?”

She waves a hand at me. “Oh, my translator chip just told me you’re human. Completely spoiled the surprise. And we do get so few surprises here.” She gives me an avid look. “But you’re an interesting one. Aren’t humans illegal?”

“I…guess?”

The red woman gives a little wiggle, as if excited. “So, tell us all the juicy things you did to land yourself down here with us.”

I blink and glance around nervously. Can I trust these women? Are they being nice to me just to have me bring my guard down? I feel so out of my element right now. “Um…”

“So shy,” croaks another. The caterpillar-woman creeps forward on little legs, slinking toward us. “You’ll get that out of your system soon enough.”

“Get a few cocks in her and she’ll be spewing obscenities like the rest of us,” the red woman says, grinning. “I’m Irita. A drakoni.” She gestures at a shiny collar around her neck. “Or at least, the two-legged version of one. This prevents me from changing shapes.”

She seems friendly enough, despite the sharp teeth and red skin, and I could use a friend. I’m not sure how to take the “cocks” comment, so I decide to ignore it and I give her a little smile in return. “I’m Chloe.”

“Kloo-ee. Whew, that’s a mouthful.” She moves to one of the bare benches in the center of the long, honeycombed hallway and pats it, indicating I should sit with her. “Come. Tell us your story. We so rarely get new females here.”

I sit next to her, feeling a bit uneasy when the other women creep closer. “I, ah, I don’t know that I belong here.”

She gives a pealing laugh, and the others take it up, cackling. “Oh, my dear sweet one, no one thinks they belong here.” She pats my shoulder with a clawed hand. “Look at me. I don’t think I should be here either.”

“What did you do?” I ask. 

Her eyes swirl with gold. “Killed a man.”

Someone snorts behind her. “Forty-one times,” one of the gray women adds.

Irita just grins proudly. “Men are useful…until they’re not. And can I help it if they don’t know how to deal with a strong woman?” Her eyes flick black and then gold again. “I would say I’m innocent, but even I’m not that good of a liar.” She beams at me, ignoring my terrified look. “Don’t look so scared. You’re safe, my sweet. I don’t kill women, though. Who would I have to gossip with if I did?”

One of the other women sits down beside Irita and adds, “I was a professional assassin, but got caught.” Another adds her story—she’s a pirate. Was a pirate. Another is responsible for leading a mutiny on a space station that ended up getting a lot of people killed. Each story seems to be more terrible than the last.

“Well?” Irita asks, giving me another interested look. “Spill your story, sweet one.”

“I killed someone by accident.” Irita doesn’t look all that impressed with my confession, so I add, “And by killing him, it made eight other people die.”

“Only eight?” The pink woman looks unimpressed. “Did they send her here because she’s a human, then? Should have sent her to a zoo.”

A zoo? I’m a little affronted at that, but she’s right. I don’t belong here at all. “I shouldn’t be here. Someone stole me in my sleep, and when I woke up, I was on a slave ship. Some ambassador guy bought me as a slave and the next thing I knew…” I spread my hands helplessly. “I’m here.”

Irita’s eyes whirl black again, and she leans in. “An ambassador. Tritarian ambassador? I think I heard about this.” She studies me curiously. “They’re spreading news that you’re a Tritarian woman, not a human slave. Someone’s definitely pulling a cover-up job on this. How very fascinating!”

I want to tell her that all I want is to go home, but it hits me that they’d all like to go home, too. No one wants to be here. Not really. I bite back the words. “Noku says they’re putting me down here to get rid of me.”

Irita nods. “He’s not wrong. I doubt any of these men have seen a human, and to be human and female? That’s a death sentence if there ever was one.” The interested sparkle doesn’t leave her eyes. “You need someone that will look out for you. Help you learn the prison. Someone to watch your back in the dining hall.”

A few of the women are nodding, and I have to agree that what Irita’s saying makes sense.

“Someone that will help you choose which guards are the best ones to fuck,” she continues.

Right up until there, she had me. “I don’t want to fuck anyone!”

One of the gray women snorts with derision, and the sound is hollow and annoying in my translator. Irita’s smile remains, unruffled. “That cunt of yours is the only bargaining chip you have, my sweet. You can try to offer your hand, but that won’t get you nearly as much as a tight cunt will.”

I stare at her, appalled. “But…I don’t want to bargain with them. I just want to be left alone.”

Someone laughs. Irita just leans forward and pats my hand. Her skin is scorching hot, and her collar gleams against her red scales. “Oh, my sweet, sweet human. You will learn fast here, I’m afraid. Until then, I’m going to watch over you, all right?”

“Thank you,” I whisper. I’m trying not to remember that she killed forty-one people. She’s being nice at least, and I need a friend, or at the very least someone I can trust.

“Now, the first thing I’ll tell you.” She glances over at the guards who are watching us with interest, but not approaching. “Noku isn’t the prison head. He’ll talk big, but he’s not more than the guard captain over this particular wing. He can get you some favors if you spread your legs for him, but not as much as you think. Of course, the problem with that is that it’s already clear he’s staking his claim on you. It’s up to you to decide how you want to handle it.”

Staking his claim? I feel a sick sense of dread. “Are you sure?”

“He led you around the prison, didn’t he? Paraded you past a bunch of the other guards and inmates, I imagine, instead of taking you straight here.” At my horrified expression, she nods. “Happened with me and with Anjli.”

“What did you do?” I ask, my stomach churning at the thought.

She shrugs her gleaming, scaled shoulders. “Took his cock for a while until he lost interest. I’ve had worse. I’ve had better, but I’ve also had worse.”

I shudder. “I don’t want him touching me.”

“Anjli said the same thing.” Irita’s voice takes on a hard edge.

“Have I met her?” I ask, glancing at the faces around me.

“No. And you won’t. She pushed Noku too far and he tossed her in the max cells to teach her a lesson. Last I heard, a few prisoners are still picking pieces of her out of their teeth.”

I’m going to be sick.

* * *

Amazingly enough, I manage to survive a week in the Haven prison.

It’s an absolutely terrifying week. It’s a week in which I cry myself to sleep every night, hoping I’ll wake up from this nightmare I find myself in. It’s a week in which everyone stares at me like I’m a freak show, and the other female inmates give me advice—all horrific. It’s a week in which I’m watched every single moment of every hour of every long day here in Haven, right down to the bathroom breaks and even when I’m in my honeycomb bunk at night.

It’s a hellish week, and the thought of spending the rest of my life here is completely and utterly horrifying. In the week that I’ve been at the prison, I’ve been outside of the women’s quarters all of twice. It seems that the prison is an older one, and the drains get clogged regularly. There are machines to break up the clogs, but either they’re too expensive or it’s far more fun for them to have the female prisoners do it. I’m the lowest on the totem pole—and have the smallest hands—so I’m the one given this “fun” duty. Irita accompanies me to “show me how,” even though it mostly involves her talking and flirting with the guard while I work. Twice now, I’ve gotten to get on my knees in the filthy men’s restrooms and scoop out clogs with my hands. I can’t vomit, because then there’s just more to clean up.

Even in those two visits, we were heavily escorted and even then, two riots broke out amongst the other prisoners, all of whom screamed and shouted at the women, or jerked off at the sight of us. Three guards were killed. Twenty prisoners were killed.

No one seems to care.

It’s starting to sink in that we’re all just bodies around here, and no one cares if we live or die. Furthermore, no one seems to care how we live, either. We get no privacy, and the women fight each other for “better” bunks or new uniforms. I was supposed to get a fresh one two days ago, but Lxist—the caterpillar woman—decided she wanted it, and I didn’t fight her.

It’s not just the clothes or the living quarters, either. The ration bars we’ve received have been moldy, dirty, and I’m pretty sure mine was covered with semen one day. I didn’t eat that one. Irita was all too happy to take it off my hands.

“What’s a little seed but a bit of extra protein?” she said with a laugh.

Irita’s a strange one. No one seems to care that she’s more or less a serial killer—something she’s frequently admitted to with a cheery laugh. She has an endless stream of guards to visit her on a regular basis and is happy to fuck them for anything they can bring her. It might be as small as an extra protein bar or a bit of gossip, but she spreads her legs for them anyhow. “Cunt’s just a bit of flesh,” she tells me. “If that’s what it takes to get a little more comfortable here, I’ll let ’em all fuck me all they like.”

She encourages me to fuck the guards, too. “You’re going to have to spread ’em for them soon enough. Might as well be on the right side of the bargaining table,” she tells me. 

I can’t be like her, though. I don’t care if I starve, or I never get shower privileges, or if I have to stick my hand in every nasty drainpipe the prison has. I’m not sleeping with the guards. Any of them.

I seem to be the only one that thinks this, though. From what I can tell, all of the guards act as if they own the women in the prison. Any guard that wants to get his dick wet just has to approach a woman and offer her a little something. Ration bars seem to be common. Sometimes it’s a fresh uniform or an extra trip to the showers (which we only get to go to once a week). Sometimes it’s for the privilege of not sticking your hand in the clogged drainpipes. Basically if there’s a reason the guards can come up with to screw a prisoner, they’ll take it.

It’s appalling. And everyone seems to be surprised that I’m horrified by it. Sex is the currency here, and if I want a scaly, insecty, or tentacle-like dick, all I have to do is ask. I don’t want any of that, of course. I want to be left alone.

That’s a concept no one seems to grasp, though. It’s like they all think it’s just a matter of time before I give in and start spreading my legs. It’s not going to happen, though. Never, ever.

I’ll die first.

Today, I’m sitting in the main hall of the women’s quarters with the others. We’re not allowed to go to our bunk during daytime hours unless we want to take a guard there with us. I sit off to one side, hugging my knees and trying to ignore the noises that Lxist and one of the guards are making nearby. Irita is chattering happily with the pink pirate that has the unpronounceable name, and the red drakoni woman nibbles on a snack she “worked” for. The others cluster in small groups, talking, but no one seems to include me. That’s fine. I confuse them, I think, because of my reluctance to use the guards for my own benefit.

But then, the women glance over at me, and I feel a prickle of unease. The anxious feeling grows when Irita finishes her snack, dusts her hands off, and then the two women approach me.

Uh oh.

“So, little Kloo-ee. You are becoming quite popular around here.” She grins, displaying sharp teeth as she comes to sit next to me. “One of the prisoners has been asking about you, and many are gossiping about what this could mean.”

I sit up, frowning. “Asking about me?”

“Yes.” Her eyes swirl with excitement. “It seems that you have caught the interest of the big messakah in maximum security. Word has been traveling all over the prison as to how he is gathering information about you. Who you are, what planet you are from, who has touched you. Noku is quite upset over the situation because he views you as his personal little pet.”

I shudder, trying not to think about all the horrible implications of being Noku’s “pet.” “I don’t even know what you’re talking about, Irita.”

She chuckles, her voice deep and throaty. She puts an arm around my shoulders, mimicking friendliness. “This is a very bad situation, my little friend, and I am just trying to give you advice on how to escape it properly. Now, come. Do you know which one I speak of?”

“The…miss-ah-kah? I don’t know what that is.” Even as I ask, I think about the big blue alien I’d shared a glance with. He’s the only one here that didn’t make me feel like I was being attacked with just a look.

“Yes. They are a very big, very powerful race from a planet they call Homeworld. He has ugly blue skin and large protruding horns. Very tall compared to you, Kloo-ee. Very strong. He would crush your small fragile human body under him if he tried to fuck you.” The thought amuses her, and a little smirk crosses her face. “Though I think you would die happy.”

I don’t respond, but I can feel my cheeks heating at her suggestion. So it is the big blue guy that’s asking about me? For some reason, that makes me happy—and a little worried at the same time. I picture him—he’s not ugly like Irita said. His skin was a deep, lovely shade of blue, and I remember tattoos and dark eyes. And horns. And muscles. He looked menacing, but not unappealing. “Do you know who he is? The…alien?”

“Ah, sweet one, I know everything that goes on in this prison.” She stretches a leg out in a way that’s blatantly sexual and casual at the same time. “His name is Jutari, and he’s been at Haven for a year now. He worked on the harvesting machines until he went to maximum after killing three men during a riot. Rumor has it that his cellmates are either terrified of him or working with him. That’s how most of the influential prisoners around here work, you see. You are either under their thumb or under the ground.” Irita laughs at her own joke.

“Why is he here? What was his sentence?”

“He’s here for the same reason we all are,” she muses. “Because he was a naughty, naughty boy.” She gets to her feet abruptly and slinks away from me.

I’m surprised at how quickly she abandons me—until I see Noku stalking through the women’s quarters. I get a sinking feeling in my stomach at how the women scatter as he appears. Irita pointedly ignores me and goes to sidle up to another guard, leaving me alone.

I don’t get up. Part of me is hoping that Noku’s going after someone else and that he’s going to ignore me. The other part of me knows that won’t happen. I’m not surprised when he stops in front of me, whips out his shock-stick, and the collar at my neck gives a whirring whine in activation.

“To your feet, Fem14-H. I have a job for you.”

Oh, ugh. This might be the first time in my life I’m going to hope for a clogged toilet drain.