Baited (Gladiators of the Gryn #2)

Izzy

IZZY

T here is a peal of laughter and a blast of perfume as the door next to where I’m mopping slides open and four alien females troop out, arms and tentacles linked. One Oykig female looks over her shoulder at me and laughs, nudging the others, who also glance behind and giggle.

I shove the mop into the automatic rinser, entering the room they vacated, I start to clear up the mess with a sigh. I’ve seen much worse after all.

It’s not like I have any other options, at least until I’ve saved enough to pay for passage away from Trefa, the receptacle for the galaxy’s refuse, and Tatatunga, the main city, an all-round den of iniquity.

I got left here by the species that abducted me from Earth a year ago, as if they thought it would be an appropriate place for a defenseless human.

Spoiler: It isn’t.

“Human.”

I jump at the subtle, sensual voice behind me. “Yes, Madame.” I immediately attempt to make myself look small, pressing my back against the wall as the massive Habosu female looms over me.

Madame Birrix. Owner and operator of the Lux Pleasure Palace.

Catering to all tastes, all desires, all appetites, all species.

Yep, if you’re going to end up in the seedy underbelly of an alien planet, why not do it in style as the general dogsbody to one of the larger pleasure houses?

The vast, troll-like alien glowers at me, and I internally groan at her attention which is never going to be good.

“You’re to clean cubicle V-13 when you’re done here.” She wrinkles her nose at the floor. “And hurry up. You’ve taken long enough.”

She departs in a cloud of scent, her silky clothing whispering as she passes me. I’m ever more aware of my hand-me-down outfit and the bag-like garment I wear over the top of my clothes for cleaning.

I finish up the corridor swiftly before breaking out the full hazmat style kit for the cubicle cleaning and bracing myself for the interior. The four pleasure ladies were entertaining several of the major stars from the Kikit league, a sport I haven’t even tried to understand, which seems to be a cross between rugby and dodgeball, only the balls explode.

They’re big males and judging by the state of the floor, they enjoyed themselves. I force back multiple grimaces and get on with my work before returning to the staff area tucked underneath the main floors of the pleasure house. It’s going to take some time to get the smell of cubicle V-13 out of my nostrils.

“Hey, ,” Riklinn calls out to me as I enter one of the rest areas.

She’s a Tref, one of the native species to Trefa. Her lavender skin is pale in the artificial light, and her three amethyst eyes are rimmed with dark makeup. It doesn’t hide the fact she’s been crying, and when Tref cry, they really cry.

“Everything okay?” I ask, sitting down next to her.

“Oh yeah,” she says breezily with a wave of an elegant arm. “Fine.”

I tap the side of my head with my closed fist a few times.

“Are you okay?” she asks with concern.

“I’m wondering if my translator is malfunctioning because I thought you said you were ‘fine.’” I glare at her. “When you are clearly not ‘fine.’”

This opens the floodgates, and green tears flow down her cheeks while she sobs, throwing her arms around my neck.

“If one of the…males…has hurt you, Riklinn, you have to tell the madame,” I say into her ear.

“It’s…it’s not that…it’s the…the other thing.” She sobs hard into my shoulder.

Riklinn is a pleasure worker who can’t actually bring herself to…give pleasure. This is probably the main flaw in her plan to come to Tatatunga and make her fortune.

“Why don’t you ask Madame if you can dance for a while, at least until you feel you’re ready?” I suggest. “I’m sure she’d prefer it if you brought in some credits rather than a customer asking for credits back.”

Riklinn pulls away from me, her cheeks now streaked with makeup. “Do you think she’ll agree?”

“I don’t know,” I say, because Madame Birrix did not become the madame of an establishment like the Lux by being kind. “But I’d hope she’d see the logic in having some credits over none.”

Madame Birrix also bleeds her workers dry, taking anything up to seventy percent of their earnings, for ‘board and lodging’ which is entirely laughable, given the amount they make would pay for many nights in one of the posh hotels near the spaceport. No wonder most of her workers do ‘extras’ for credit chips they can conceal from her.

“I will!” Riklinn jumps to her feet. “I will!” she reiterates, wiping her hand over her face. “Right now!”

“I’d get cleaned up a bit first. You know what she’s like about appearances,” I suggest.

“Oh!” Riklinn pulls out her multi-function device and checks her reflection, causing her nose to wrinkle. “Yes, good idea.”

“I’m full of them.” I stretch out.

“If you don’t mind me saying, , you could probably do with a bath,” Riklinn says to her reflection.

“I do mind, but you’re right. I had to clean up cubicle V-13.”

Riklinn very nearly drops her device. “Not the one from last night?” She gasps.

“The very same,” I reply.

“I still don’t understand why they don’t have bot cleaners here,” Riklinn grumbles, as she pulls out a makeup bag and starts repairing the damage. “We had them at home.”

“Aside from the fact I’d be out of a job and somewhere to live, I don’t think they’ve invented a cleaning bot which could cope with the fluids I deal with daily. But I live in hope.”

I don’t want to be a pleasure worker, but when I see Riklinn attempting it, and when I know what the rewards are, despite Madame’s atrocious rates, it makes me wonder if I could consider swallowing my increasingly threadbare pride and offering myself up.

That is, if any of the species frequenting Tatatunga might be interested in a human, given not one customer has even looked in my direction.

Maybe I should speak to Madame too.