When he hired me for the job, the Magistros’ servant told me that if I ever broke the airtight seal of the mask against my skin, He’d have me executed.

I thought this would be an easy job. It was sold to me as “transport an alien slave across the capital.”

I was given the mask before I boarded that ancient ship, and told it was for my own good. When I first saw that “alien slave” I thought maybe the drink they’d given me earlier had been laced with dream leaves. I thought that my mind had created the most magnificent and feminine being in existence.

She was not just in my imagination. She was real, and I was being paid an incredible amount of money to simply transport her. To be in her presence.

When I first saw her, she was covered in a white slave’s robe, but even through that cloth I could see the impossible geometry and curves of her body. Like nothing I’d ever laid eyes on before, and the moment I saw her, I found my hands on the mask. The urge to smell her was intense, but I remembered the warning, and I kept myself from removing it. Just barely.

I hoisted her into a carriage, the kind that moves without a horse, and I sat on the roof of the carriage as it rolled through the capital. As a mercenary, I’ve learned to project an image of danger, so that whoever looks at me will feel that if they so much as threatened me with a raised brow, I’d kill them on the spot. I projected that image as I sat on the carriage, with a big rifle in my hand, glowing with pink energy and ready to fire. The combination of an ancient weapon and my warrior’s body and muscle kept even the most desperate bandits from attacking the carriage.

I assumed that this is why I was paid so well, but when I reached the Magistros’ palace, I realized I was wrong.

Two females waved the carriage in when I arrived at the palace, which I found strange at first. Normally I’d be distracted by females, but next to this alien’s impossibly attractive shape and features, I barely noticed them.

I held that alien in my arms as the females led me through the palace. It somehow never occurred to me that she’d feel so different. Her body was warmer and softer than anything I could have imagined. I held her in a way that would be most efficient for carrying her: just hoisted over my shoulder, with one hand on her back for stability. Her soft chest pressed into my shoulder, and I could even feel the points of her nipples on me. Beneath my loincloth, my spear hardened and throbbed almost immediately, and I found my hand reach down toward her leg. I never thought a leg could feel so good.

Then one of the females scowled at me. She must have smelled my arousal.

“Keep the mask on,” she hissed at me. “Or you’ll lose your balls.”

I put my hand back onto her back, but even the flat of her back felt better than any teal female body part I’d ever laid hands on.

The females watched as I chained her to the post, and they then escorted me away to the Magistros’ head eunuch, making it so I had no time alone with her. They must not have trusted me yet, with good reason.

Like all eunuchs who serve powerful men, the Magistros’ eunuch wore his balls–cut off long ago–on a string around his neck. A sign of obedience to his master.

This is where it became clear why I was paid so much. He told me that I will act as the alien’s bodyguard and jailer. My job will be to make sure no one but the Magistros or his females come into contact with the alien.

I knew this was a risk going in. When a high-ranking member of the Emperor Clan “offers” you a job, you cannot refuse.

I nodded that I understood. I understood very clearly now. Females and eunuchs are not strong enough fighters. They may have the size and muscles, but they lack the fury that males have. They need a male with balls–a strong one–to guard the Magistros’ prized slave. I have a reputation of being trustworthy, while still being one of the most ruthless warriors. Because I have renounced my clan, I have no split loyalties. I’m loyal only to good pay.

I didn’t need to ask the eunuch about the mask. I’d pieced it together already: the female belongs to the Magistros, and only he may smell her. Her scent would likely be the most incredible thing I’d ever experience, and if I did smell her, even a mercenary as trustworthy as me might break his contract.

I thought that so long as I kept the mask on I’d be safe. It’s the scent of a woman that ultimately makes us turn into animals. It’s what makes us unable to hold our seed inside, and what drives us to spill it with a woman in the slim hope of procreation.

But now this alien goddess is naked in front of me. Now I can see the snow-white skin of her body through the water. Her entire waist is above the water, though her back is facing me. I can make out the hint of her breasts even directly behind her, and my mind is completely consumed trying to imagine the other side of her. Or her shapely ass, just below the water. The water changes the shape and curves of her, making it look as if her hips and ass were even larger, as if such a thing could ever be possible.

My spear is hard and throbbing again, and I notice my hand clutching the mask. The temptation to remove it is intense. My aroused scent must be filling the room, and I fear the Magistros’ females might enter and smell my guilt.

I know I’m being watched. I know this is a test. I can’t see the females or the eunuch watching, but I know they are using some type of machine to see me. If I even pulled the mask up by a fingertip and inhaled, it would be the last thing I ever smelled.

I put my hands down by my side, and I settle on the sight of her.

“I can feel you staring at me,” she says, not turning to face me.

“It’s my job,” I say. “Get used to it.”

The alien words still feel strange coming out of my mouth. They hooked me to some machine on the ancient ship, and my whole body twitched for several moments, then I found I could speak the alien language. Not perfectly, but near enough.

“Do you want me to wash everywhere?” she asks, and now she does turn her head to face me. Her big brown eyes look at me over her bare shoulder.

I try to swallow, but it catches in my throat. “Wash everywhere. Everything.”

“Then close your eyes,” she says.

“I will,” I say.

“You promise?” she asks, and her face scrunches up in a way that makes me want to jump into the water and take her. To push my spear into that forbidden place. To smell her.

“You promise?” she asks.

“I promise,” I lie.

I make a show of covering my eyes, and when I hear the water slosh, I open my eyes again to see her perfect ass leaving the water. She’s covered in water, and her white skin glistens in the dim light. Droplets form on her, and I feel myself salivating, desperate to lick those droplets off her soft skin.

She bends over to run the soap along her ankles, and I see that mysterious place between her legs come into full view.

Now I do turn around. I do close my eyes, because if I had looked at that perfection between her legs for another moment, I’d have torn the mask off my face and tried to mount her before the Magistros sent his guards in to execute me.