Alien Breeders: Savage Conquest

By Stacey St. James

Victoria was someone before she was snatched from the life she’d built for herself and, despite the intense ‘training’ she finds it difficult to accept that she isn’t anymore, that she has no rights at all.

But the savage, Omar, appeals to some part of herself that she has difficulty ignoring or denying. To him, she’s worth dying for, and when he snatches her for himself, she begins to think she couldn’t be safer anywhere else.

• Language: English
• Publisher: New Concepts Publishing
• Release date: Mar 24, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215677667

Book preview

Alien Breeders:

Savage Conquest

By

Stacey St. James

( c ) Copyright by Madris DePasture writing as Stacey St. James, March 2023

Cover art by Jenny Dixon--2022

ISBN 978-1-60394-

Smashwords Edition

New Concepts Publishing

Lake Park, GA 31636

www.newconceptspublishing.com

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

Chapter One

The sun cut across the landscape and blinded Victoria as she reached the opening behind the first women being herded off of the slave ship. She lifted a hand to shield her eyes and hit herself in the nose with the heavy chain that bound her to the woman in front and the one behind her. The pain was intense enough to make her eyes water, further blinding her.

Her nose bled.

She wiped at it with the rough cloth that she’d been given to … ‘dress her up’ maybe?

Hard to say.

She’d spent most of the trip naked after she was kidnapped—on her back or her stomach being ‘trained’. The slavers/trainers took her through every sexual act she’d ever heard of and then some she’d never conceived of—repeatedly—until she knew better than to show any sign that she was reluctant—until she learned to be totally submissive.

She’d just thought she wasn’t treated like an individual before she was taken.

As it turned out, she’d had so many rights it was downright staggering—especially now that she had no rights at all. Now that she’d been reduced to the level of sex toy and breeder mare.

The ‘clothing’ was nothing but a narrow strip of cloth with a slit for her head to fit through and a couple of ties for the sides—a short, sort of poncho that was made of something like tissue paper and only covered the back and front. It flapped around her as she walked, exposing pretty much everything.

Thankfully, the alien world they were being unloaded on wasn’t freezing cold … at the moment.

She couldn’t decide if she was seeing sunrise or sunset, though.

If it was sunrise then it was definitely going to get a lot warmer.

If it was sunset …. She paused and flicked a look around at the landscape.

It looked semi-desert like, she thought. There was plants—strangely colored, stunted things and exposed dirt. The only thing tall was the crude structures sprawled along the dusty track they followed as they were prodded onward.

Cold, she thought—maybe. If it was anything like an Earth desert area.

But who knew?

She sure as hell had no clue.

There was nowhere to hide, though.

Even if she was super human and she could break the chain, she wouldn’t get far. They hadn’t dragged her across the galaxy—or maybe the universe—fucked her half to death and beaten her anytime she didn’t react fast enough—just to let her slip through their fingers.

Half the women taken had been so battered they were little more than drones anymore.

The other half still had enough mind left to be completely terrorized.

She thought she was maybe halfway between the two.

In some ways she felt completely divorced from herself and everything around her—like it wasn’t real.

She knew it was, of course, but she liked the ‘not real’ way of looking at the new world she’d inherited.

Because if she didn’t, she was going to be like the crazed, terrified women that were little more than animals anymore, scrambling around frantically trying to please. She could feel it, deep down, the terror that jellified everything inside of her so that she felt a constant quaking that made her feel like she might puke if she had to deal with even one more assault.

She didn’t need a playbill to know she was about to be sold.

They hadn’t been kidnapped, tortured, and reprogrammed for nothing.

The slavers were going to get paid.

Then she was going to find out what it was like in the seventh level of hell.

But she didn’t want to think about that.

Because screaming like a maniac could get her killed.

And she didn’t want to die.

She wasn’t certain anymore why she didn’t want to. She thought she should, because life was just getting harder and harder.

But she did want to live and she clung to that with a sense of desperation that defied reason.

When they were finally marched into the warehouse-like building that seemed to be their destination, they were separated into ‘lots’, shoved into crates and locked up like dogs.

Hell dogs lived better these days, she thought.

Well, actually, she didn’t remember people ever allowing dogs to be treated like they were. People loved their dogs. Especially men.

Women … not so much.

The slave trader gave her a shove when she didn’t move fast enough that threw her off balance. She plowed the dirt when she flew through the door and half tore her poncho off.

There were feces all over the floor. Thankfully, they were at least dry.

Mostly.

She got up and used the tail of her poncho to wipe her face and hands off, then she looked around for a place to sit.

There was alien man, she discovered, looking directly at her.

A really big fucking alien man whose muscles had muscles.

A jolt traveled through her, but she managed to convince herself that it wasn’t her he was looking at. He was just looking in her general direction.

She settled in a corner and peered in that direction again.

He was moving toward the nearest bin.

Relieved that he wasn’t heading toward her, her interest was captured.

There was something about him—the way he was dressed, the way he moved—that just said ‘warrior’ to her. She wasn’t sure of what it was—maybe the easy, powerful gait of an athlete?

His ‘attire’ was leathers that reminded her of the armored vests of soldiers and cops. He wore boots, or maybe sandals with leather straps that wound up towards his knees? And something around his hips that sort of looked like a cross between a kilt and a loincloth.

He was massive—tall and broad and rippling with muscles upon muscles.

He wouldn’t be a fast warrior, she thought with a flicker of amusement, not carrying around that sort of mass.

He was looking to buy, she thought.

Or maybe just window shopping?

She dragged her gaze from him and studied her dirty feet.

She didn’t want to chance that she might make him think she had any interest in him.

She didn’t.

She’d been a real person before she’d been taken, had a six figure job in the law industry—as in lawyer. Now she was nothing, lower than nothing, and the only protection she had was her brain.

And, sad to say, just about the only thing that was worth was trying to avoid pitfalls.

Not that she saw any way in hell she was going to avoid this one.

She could only hope that whoever bought her wasn’t a sick motherfucker—the kind that liked to pick helpless things apart, slowly, so it would scream more.

She thought that might mean trying to avoid the warrior. Because, clearly, he was a very successful killer. He didn’t look young and she thought an older soldier would have to be good at it.

Of course, he was alien and she wasn’t familiar with the species, so that might be misleading.

He was humanoid, though. She hadn’t been able to see him well, but that was noticeable—that he was built very similar to humans even if he