His Human Au Pair: Aliens and Curvy Girls, #1

By J.S. Wilder

Humans are on the endangered species list...and I'm one of the lucky ones.

 

I was looking for adventure, but this wasn't what I imagined when I signed up to go into outer space! Instead, I was sold into slavery and spend my days cleaning up after an alien race.

 

Trust me, it's not my idea of a good time.

 

When my slavers are killed, I thought I'd be free again, but no.

 

Nope, I'm stolen by a hunky alien commander and threatened to keep two little girls safe or die trying! My fear is the only real danger to them is the alien commander who kidnapped them, so the first chance I get we're out of here.

 

Yet, I can't help feeling drawn to him. Or maybe I'm coming down with some alien virus cause there's no way in hell that I'd fall for the hunky alien who's holding us captive!

 

Check out Aliens and Curvy Girls series now.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J.S. Wilder
• Release date: Nov 30, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201682019

J.S. Wilder

J.S. Wilder has spent many years working in the IT industry. She has left the computers behind and taken up her passion of writing. She loves to write romance and still believes in fairy-tales. Her Facebook page has details of all her books and she loves to hear from her readers, please click on this link to visit her on Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/pages/J-S-Wilder/913248462036076)

Book preview

Chapter One

SARAH

The second turquoise sun rising shouts that I’m late. Again.

Shit. Last time, my punishment was having to work a double-shift for two weeks. The shrill of the alarm blares a second later, adding to my pounding heart.

I sprint as fast as I can, carrying the industrial bucket of cleanser to the next batch of alien homes.

It feels like a lifetime has passed, not just more than a decade since the aliens invaded our ravaged Earth and took the survivors as slaves.

The planet reminds me of old Play-Dough with a layer of dust covering it. There are no trees to catch a break from the dual suns, just the shade of too many alien homes crammed together near a lake with dots of thorny bushes along one side.

Already, I’m panting like I’ve run a marathon and not the twenty yards between the pods. God, I hate under-boob sweat and my skin is tacky all over. A shower can’t come fast enough when my shift is finally over.

Not that it’ll help remove the stink I live with constantly. The scent of rancid shit clogs the air on this alien planet and every day I wake up gagging on it in the back of my throat.

There are over eighty human women here with me on Naborm, cleaning actual alien shit from sunrise to sundown. I am one of the lucky ones and didn’t get stuck with the graveyard shift.

Yup, these Nabormians poop twenty-three Earth hours a day, and the industrial, indoor plumbing couldn’t keep up. All of them. And it takes all of us round-the-clock to clean it up. No time off for vacation or weekends. If one of us falls sick, the rest of us step it up, working until we can no longer stand.

The mudbrick square pod has the door standing open, but it’s so silent my breaths fill the space. There’s no alien family or even another worker around. I can’t do this alone, there are twelve freaking aliens who live in this home. Where is everyone?

A scream rents the air and I drop the bucket of cleanser. It splashes across the muddy floor leaving streaks of red behind. Everything in me says to run and hide, but my coworkers are out there among the thousands of pods and clay earth covered with red dust. Margo, my best friend in all this craziness, could need help.

I don’t wait, but run around the corner, between two homes, bouncing into a metal chest. A grunt sounds and arms haul me forward, tossing me toward the other women.

Why is everyone here in the center of town instead of cleaning?

What’s going on? I ask the group around me, searching for Margo and hope she’s okay.

The woman with a pallor complexion shushes me, her head bowed.

I blink, taking in the scene to figure out what is happening. The Nabormian soldiers who force us to clean are weaponless and have their heads bowed in front of the stranger dressed in armor.

The Nabormian guards huddled and cower at the metal-plated warrior freak me out as much as the giant new alien himself. He has to be at least seven feet tall with skin that shines like a blue metallic paint in the sunlight on his arms—all four of them.

His helmet covers his entire head, and I’m reminded of a boar complete with tusks and beady eyes. I shiver, hoping he’ll leave as fast as he arrived. That he’s only here to find an alien criminal or rob the Nabormians and leave us in peace.

Next to me, the women clutch each other and try not to show fear as the warrior turns toward us. Whimpers fill the air and my scream sticks in my throat.

He lifts his weapon with one of his four hands, and I know it is the end of us. My life flashes before my eyes including my brother’s face and his lopsided smile. The last one I saw before he died.

A quick tap on the trigger and it’ll blow a hole in us all. Bile rushes into my mouth along with my stomach. I don’t want to die. My entire body shakes, and I couldn’t run if I wanted to.

Stand back. His voice comes out gruff, but in actual human English with a heaviness to it that I almost didn’t comprehend at first.

Some of the women whimper, but I ease back, pulling those near with me. These women have gone through the same shit as me. Coming to Naborm in hopes of a new life and finding only slave labor—and we were the lucky ones.

The foreign alien warrior nods as though pleased that I understand what he wants. Slowly the rest of the women ease back. His blaster aims at our guards now and he pulls the trigger. I let out a shriek as brains and guts go flying. His attention whips to me and I cover my mouth with my hand.

You care about these slavers? He gestures to the smoldering pile of what was once our guards or rather our jailers.

I shake my head, tears from the stench filling my eyes.

Load them up on the ship. He spins on his heel, not bothering to look back at us. Like we’re cargo to sell to the highest bidder.

Several metal-clad aliens march forward out of a spaceship that has more dents in it than my old Buick. They wave at us with their guns, and we have no choice but to obey.

What do you think they’ll do with us? a young woman with huge eyes and a trembling chin asks.

Anything they want, I answer honestly.

Lying to this girl won’t help her. Humans, especially females, only have three options in this universe: food, slave, or to fill a harem. Personally with my curves and squeezing into a size 18 has my odds stacked as food. Not that I hadn’t tried every diet ever invented, but my body doesn’t ever downsize. Growing up, I hated my weight, now I’ve gotten so used to it that the jeers all sound the same to me now. Still hurts like hell, but I don’t let it show. Never let them see you crying had been my motto all through school.

We’re led into the spaceship’s holding cell that is about the size of a closet. The aliens cram us in together, not caring that I have claustrophobia. Already, I’m panting, trying to catch my breath. This was why I drove a big car rather than an economical one. Having a panic attack on the freeway during rush hour was not an option.

Margo, my friend, pushes her way to me and I’ve never been so happy to see her.

Breathe, Sarah, it’s okay, Margo says even as someone elbows her in the boob, and she cringes.

Easy…for…you…to…say. My chest seizes up and I press forward to the closed doors, gasping for air. There’s no windows, only sheets of steel bolted onto the walls. I feel like I’m in a metal coffin. I repeat over and over to myself that there’s plenty of oxygen. That it’s okay that we're on an alien ship unable to move without bumping or stepping each other. My heartbeat throbs against my temples and I feel light-headed.

Whimpering and sobbing women drown out the sounds of the engines starting. We were supposed to be on our way to Grumoux as laborers. One step up from slavery, but better than the alternatives in my opinion.

What does it matter though if I’m going to die from hyperventilating before we even land where we’re going?

Let us out, I scream as I slap my hands against the steel doors. Not that I think they’ll listen to me, but I can’t stand here and do nothing.

My fingers claw at the metal seam between the panels, trying to pry it open even though I know it’s useless. The ship lunges and the women behind me slide forward. I feel like I’m being crushed alive, and I scream, my air whooshing out of my lungs.

If the aliens want me as a sex slave, so be it. Anything to get out of this hell.

Hours tick by so slowly I’ve lost count of how long we’ve been stuck in here. No food, no water, and no room to even sit down. Forget about going to the bathroom. We’re cattle to these aliens and I’m ready to fry myself on their barbecue if it will get me out of here for one minute of peace.

The other women are quieter now, their sobs muffled and I’m guessing they’ve resolved themselves to whatever fate has in store for us now. Not me. I plan on attacking the first alien I can. Better to go out fighting than whimpering in a corner. Or at least that’s what I tell myself to try to keep from going crazy as I feel like all the oxygen is being leeched out of this room every second.

I gag as the stench of body order in this cell reaches a new height.

I close my eyes and imagine I’m on a tropical planet. That the perspiration coating me is from the blazing sun and not fifty-plus bodies locked in here with me.

It’s no use and my heart hammers in my chest as another wave of paranoia hits me. What if they leave us locked up until we starve to death?

I pound on the door again, shouting obscenities in three different alien languages. When the alien invasions had snatched up women and children by the ton, I had believed they had come to save us from a life of misery on a dying planet. Willingly, we went with the alien invaders to various worlds that had no pollution and no fear of natural disasters like we faced on a daily basis. I had believed I could get a job as a teacher and had worked my ass off for years studying the top three common languages spoken. Yeah, and that had been a waste. Only thing we found after leaving Earth was slavery. Now I’m being traded from one alien race to another, and I have no idea what these creatures fully look like or what they want. My gut tells me whatever it is, isn’t good and I’ve gone from the frying pan and into the fire big time.

Suddenly the door swishes open and of course because I’m stuck to it, I fall straight into the arms of one of our alien captures. His helmet is off, and I gasp at the sight.

His dark blue skin still gives off a nearly bioluminescent glow and with two sets of black horns coming out of his head has me gulping like I’m about to fly through a black hole. He has a flat nose almost looking like a boxer’s with ridges along the sides. And his eyes, good God, they’re as black as night without pupils or emotion.

I let out a little squeak and push back. The overcrowded cell is better than whatever this alien has in mind for me.

Instead of letting me go, he drags me forward and speaks in a garbled language that sounds like he’s eating marbles rather than talking. The door closes on the rest of the women, and I’m left alone as the alien drags me forward, my feet sliding along the polished floor as I try to stay where I am.

Several aliens with nearly identical coloring murmur and nod their approval as I pass and my stomach drops. I’d been joking about being alien food, now all I wanted is being back in the cramped cell.

Please, let me go. I lift my chin and hope he doesn’t hear the shaking in my voice.

He doesn’t answer but drags me down a hallway that curves sharply to the right. The scent of something cooking makes my mouth water. It smells like a cross between a juicy hamburger and a spicy scent I can’t identify…chili pepper maybe? Is this preparation for dinner and I’m the main course?

I know you can speak English. But what you’re going to do with me? I jerk back and his eyebrow rises as he glances back at me. I have a right to know.

You have no rights, he says garbled like he has marbles in his mouth, but I can still understand him. He grins and the look in his eyes has me backing up a step. Go now, clean.

He hurls me forward, and I go sailing into a chamber smaller than the one I just left.

Water shoots out from the ceiling over me and my teeth chatter. Great, a cold shower