BENNETT
I was beginning to think myself a bit on the slow side. It took me literal days to grasp the stark reality of my new predicament—I was being groomed for servitude. However, the predators in this scenario were an alien race well-versed in the art of buying and selling luxury commodities. Living, luxury commodities. At my age, one would think falling for the lost-puppy-and-van act would be embarrassing. Still, I couldn't say that was what this was, I hadn't fallen for any trick, only gotten lost on a mountain really. Dumb in its own right, but it didn't exactly warrant being kidnapped. Spacenapped?
Still, I recognized similarities to what escorts and sex workers endured when they went through training. Lessons were conveyed in silence sure, leaving me baffled about how these aristocrats communicate amongst themselves, but they were lessons all the same. The absence of overt communication wasn't necessarily better than being talked about like I wasn't in the room, but it could be worse. I could hear and understand the shitty things they were saying about me. It was almost better not knowing, even if I was beyond confused half the time. And don't get me wrong, it certainly made things like saying no or don't touch hard to convey, but even if he had been able to communicate his disdain it seemed unlikely the aristocrats would care.
'Aristocrat' no longer seemed fitting for their species as a whole. It was evident they maintained a hierarchical structure. There were unmistakable guards—tall, lean figures clad in lightweight armor, wielding long staffs akin to spears. The house workers resembled apparitions, reminiscent of butlers or slaves, flitting about in the background clad in plain monochromatic tunics. Then there were the overseers, whom I bitterly referred to as this species version of an 'extraterrestrial pimps.' I harbored a profound dislike for them above all else of their kind. With their ostentatious, vivid robes and excessive jewelry. They spent hours dressing me up like I was some kind of tall, sending their worker bee's to and fro, procuring a variety of silks and jewels. A mere nod from them set the workers into motion without a sound, dressing me in a million different fabrics, styling my hair despite its stubborn habit to bounce right back where it wanted to be, trimming my and cleaning my nails for what seemed like the thousandth time, and poking and prodding just about every crevice of my body till it was to their liking.
During one distressing instance when I had finally lashed out, slapping away a worker's hand that was attempting to shave me in an area that I absolutely did not want foreign hands or a blade, the situation had escalated quickly and had been halted just as swiftly. I found myself held down by a guard while the worker resumed their task—everywhere. The humiliation was compounded by the scrutinizing gaze of the pimps, who either approved of the butler's work or, god forbid if it wasn't to their liking. Subjected me to the ordeal repeatedly until they were satisfied. The appalling lack of humanity in their treatment was unsettling, I didn't think they saw me as sentient, but as like a badly behaved pet of sorts. I felt reduced to a small, feisty dog, barking and biting, only to be picked up and maneuvered at the guard's discretion to appease the whims of the pimps.
Days passed like that, in a monotonous routine of montone stone as far as the eye could see, drowning in sheer fabrics and jewelry I had no interest seeing on my body. Despite dedicating numerous days dodging guards, and mapping out the building's maybe long endless hallways, I couldn't locate any door leading outside or a window signaling a possible exit. Going home seemed like a distant daydream I had simply made up to pass the time. My reality was a deep monotone grey, and I didn't know how much longer I could fight the emotions pressing down on me. The anxiety was squeezing the life from me.
They made sure to feed me regularly, almost excessively, to restore my body from the gaunt, emaciated state I had been in when captured by the Bantys, transforming me slowly into a toned, healthy-looking individual. I underwent a meticulous grooming regimen, from bathing to oiling and moisturizing to plucking and waxing, until my skin gleamed, smooth, and tanned without a single blemish every night before bed. The attire they selected for me primarily consisted of sheer or barely-existent outfits, hinting at some preparation for something I vehemently refused to partake in. Despite the absence of direct communication, I made my stance on the matter very clear, causing chaos and mischief whenever I could. But even I was growing tired of the act, and every day it became more obvious the pimps knew it to.
Even so my defiance earned me the evident disdain of the guards and houseworkers. Whenever I wasn't sneaking off or pilfering food, I was working out, much to their displeasure. They desired me soft, compliant, and fragrant, not muscular, sweaty, and toned. I always seemed to have someone watching me, which made it my personal mission to evade their constant surveillance, though it grew increasingly difficult with each passing day. Despite my knack for troublemaking, no one laid into on me like the Bantys had; I must have been considered too valuable to be physically harmed, a thought that embittered me almost every second of the day.
I was letting that fact embolden me now, as I actively hid from the sound of rushing feet echoing down the corridor. My hiding place behind a marble column was a bit lackluster in creativity, but it got the job done. I was skirting my afternoon lessons. To be honest they were my least favorite and usually involved kneeling in silence until the evening meal. Anytime I moved or made to stand a guard would place me back into position with my legs beneath me, butt perched on the soles of my feet and hands palms up on each of my thighs. It be honest it was one of my least invasive "lessons", but seemed to be the one I hated most. The silence seemed to get to me the most when I was kneeling, when I wasn't allowed to so much as drop my chin to my chest or breath to loudly. Somehow it also felt the most belittling, being trained to sit silently for hours until I was called upon had me grinding my teeth even now as I pressed tightly to the cold stone at my back. Sliding almost silently in the opposite direction of the footsteps.
Usually I tried to keep my acting out to a minimum, pick and choose your battles as they say, but something about today's atmosphere had my stomach in knots and I planned to listen to that feeling.
My caretakers had disrupted my sleep earlier than their norm for starters. Typically, they didn't enter my room until the dusky dimness of the artificial night had fully transitioned to morning light. But today, I was up before the lights even grew dim. They'd bathed me in warm, milky water that left me smelling pleasant and my skin radiant which wasn't so out of the norm, if you left out the fact that they only bathed me after the evening meal. After my bath they hastily served me a tray of food and tried to groom my mousy brown curls away from my face, but as usual my now grown-out undercut proved bothersome, with the lengthy locks flopping over my eyes and tickling my neck. It was one of the only reason I knew I had been gone for quite a while. My hair didn't grow very fast. After a rushed breakfast that never before had taken place in my room, they had then dressed me in the typical sheer outfit that accentuated the green hues in my hazel eyes before rushing me into the main hall to start my morning lessons.
The rest of my morning and even my midday meal went by in a similar, stunted fashion until I had seized a moment when no one was watching to get away from it all.
Now, as the frantic search for me unfolded, I crouched, concealed behind another column as I inched my way down the hall, feeling like a mischievous child. The intensity of their pursuit seemed more desperate than ever before and I knew I had been right that today was important for them for some reason.
Finally after a while of sneaking that put even double O seven to shame, I finally saw why.
Coming around the corner, trailed by an a group of pimps was a creature that made my keepers seem more like beggars than aristocrats. The way they seemed to fill such a giant space was a feat all its own, but the way they seemed to command attention with a soft level tone of voice was almost hypnotic. This being eclipsed every other presence in the room with a look alone. Exuding an air of importance that rendered their followers mere shadows in comparison. Its appearance was a convergence of ethereal elegance and untamed wildness', a testament to their obviously otherworldly origin.
Atop its head sat sleek shaggy black hair that was tousled in an unkempt yet stylish manner. The shorter strands melded into longer, artfully braided locks at the nape of its neck. Intricate small jewels were interwoven within the braid, catching the light and casting an ethereal glimmer with each movement. While reminiscent of Homo sapiens at first glance, this being possessed a uniqueness that veered far from earthly resemblances. Its face, while humanoid, seemed to transcend the conventions of any known race, marked by the sharp, pointed ears atop its head that subtly hinted at an ancient lineage distinctly non-human.
Their eyes, a bewitching shade of piercing yellow reminiscent of a predatory feline, held an otherworldly intensity that seemed to pierce even stone. The presence of fangs, just grazing the beings lower lip, contributed to the aura of danger that emanated from them as they walked the great stone hall like they owned it.
Clad in opulent attire crafted from thick, dark golden fabric, ornately embroidered with ethereal designs that defied earthly comparisons, they were a vision of regality. Adorned with a ring on each finger, each piece heavy with shimmering jewels that glinted with hues of red and gold, the ensemble perfectly matched the resplendent golden crown atop their head, elevating their already majestic presence. A long, sinuous tail equally as black as their hair, reminiscent of a feline like creature of the wild, extended from the base of their spin and out from between the many fabrics of their robes. Its movements were fluid, swaying behind them with an innate grace akin to that of a predator, its tip occasionally flicking in a controlled yet mesmerizing rhythm. The creatures hands, appearing human at first glance, boasted large claws reminiscent of a jungle cat at the tips each of its long fingers.
I couldn't deny the captivating allure of this thing, this male—and he was a man, despite being so different from the conventional human standard of beauty, he was undeniably striking and undeniably male. And at his side walked an equally beautiful but very unique creature of the same species.
Standing at a towering height of seven feet, yet somehow a few inches shorter than his dark-haired companion, with coloring akin to the majestic snow leopard in the hue of his ears and tail. The royals creatures companion cut an imposing silhouette, thick and brawny, unlike his leaner counterpart. His long, unruly, ash colored locks cascaded freely down his neck, distinct from his partner's neatly styled braids. The wild texture of his curls added an untamed quality to his appearance. While his companion exuded a lethal and sophisticated aura, this figure's power felt more rugged and inherently protective. It was evident they were close. One exuded strength, flashiness, and a clear sense of authority, while the other emanated an aura of quiet strength and unwavering determination. They complimented each other well.
Emerald-green eyes, sharp and perceptive, fit the figure's grey hair and distinct features, hinting at an intelligence that matched his evident physical strength. Those eyes locked onto me like bird dog on a fowl, laser accurate focus zoomed into the spot where I observed quietly in the shadows. An almost silent gasp of surprise escaped me as our eyes locked, and I quickly ducked behind the pillar, hoping the emerald eyed warrior alien hadn't actually seen me and the entourage would pass me by unnoticed—unfortunately, they did not.
The soft growls and hushed purrs that followed, though foreign to my ears after the prolonged silence from the aristocrats, held an unsettling undertone as it grew closer. I made to take off down the hallway knowing then that the gig was up, but felt a strong, firm grip seize me by the back of my neck.
With a squeak I was lifted from my crouched position behind the pillar. Now suddenly face to face with the being possessing deep green eyes and very long, sharp fangs, it became abundantly clear that the creature, the more protective one, had indeed spotted me and was now communicating something—not directly to me per say, but to his golden eyed partner about me. The feline-like pupils shifted back and forth, occasionally focusing on me, as if sizing up my threat level, despite the clear physical disparity-my 5'10" stature paled in comparison to their towering 7-foot frames, and even with my working out I was lacking the muscular build, claws, and fangs of my very irritated looking captors. I was hardly a threat to anyone, except maybe myself.
Despite knowing it was futile I thrashed about helplessly, my feet barely skimming the floor as the ash colored alien effortlessly restrained me by the back of my neck. The feel of his thick clawed thumb so close to my jugular only had my relentless kicks growing more frantic as I attempted to break free of his hold on me.
The gathered crowd remained stoic, including the tall, lean guard who was supposed to be keeping watch over me this afternoon. Distinguishing the guards from each other was a bit difficult as they often wore matching armor and headgear, but I recognized this specific one by the shade of its right eye—grey instead of the usual dark hue- through the slits in its headgear.
The aristocrats, who had been stoically trailing the feline-like aliens, seemed visibly displeased at the sight of me. Even amidst the feline beings' communicating in their own language, the aristocrats maintained their silence. I did however, noticed the grey-haired alien tightening its grip around my neck, the things neck hairs bristling, indicating its growing irritation toward the leading aristocrat. So they must have been communicating somehow, just not in a way I could comprehend.
I had grown weary of attempting to assign names for differentiation, but I could identify this particular pimp in front of me by his preference for large sleeves and dark-colored robes, within which he'd almost always fold his gangly hands with his unnaturally long fingers as he stood with his arms crossed.
The aristocrat's gaze was fixed on me, burning a whole into the side of my head. And even now his hands were once again in his sleeves. And despite his silence it was his eyes, which resembled molten lava, and expressed a desire to boil me alive if given the chance. Those eyes told me exactly what I needed to know. Id paid for this later, most definitely.
It was clear that the two feline-like aliens before me held some significance, but I was honestly disinterested in how how much or even why. I wanted nothing to do with this situation. My priority was still to search and find an escape route from this colossal stone labyrinth I was trapped in. At that thought and with a huff of frustration, I ceased my pointless struggling, opting instead to cross my arms and hang irritably from the grey-haired alien's grasp.
The aliens deliberated above me despite my internal debate and so I was forced to wait impatiently to be released, more than a little eager to take off again once I was free. I found myself torn between feelings of safety and a bailing warning in the back of my head screaming at me to get away.
While I wasn't particularly afraid of the aristocrats, their robotic and lifeless demeanor towards me always had me uneasy. Their stoic and detached manner created an eerie sense of loneliness, amplified by the resounding silence surrounding me. I was surprised I hadn't gone even more insane than I already felt. Trapped within the endless labyrinth of this stone prison, I once again felt the pressing urgency to find an escape route before the aristocrats decided to sell me off and I ended up even farther from home than I already was. At the same time the unfamiliarity of this new species posed a myriad of dangerous unknowns. If the aristocrats handed me over to them, I was uncertain about what fate awaited me in their hands and that was almost worse than the unknown of staying in the labyrinth.
I just couldn't let that happen, I had to get away and hide till things blew over. The guards never really chased even when they pursued me; they simply followed slowly with impatient expressions, their skin illuminating a trail as they moved which made it easy to disappear in all the dark corners of stone the labyrinth provided.
To my relief my feet finally made contact with the ground, and the conversation amongst the aliens continued. Feeling that my presence was inconsequential to their ongoing and verbally one sided debate, I turned to walk away shaking off the hand on my pulse as I did so. However, the grip the green eyed cat had on the back of my neck tighten almost painfully, jerking me back into place as the yellow-eyed feline emitted a low growl, baring his sharp fangs in a manner that I perceived as a very real, very scary threat. No shared language necessary.
Alarmed, I scurried back, and in a split-second decision, sought refuge in the arms of the green eyed alien behind me. Better the devil you knew I suppose, at least the claws on my neck hadn't punctured skin and in the moment claw seemed safer than fangs. But it was a hasty decision. Too late, I felt the unyielding hold of the grey alien's arms, enveloping me like a cage and lifting me from the ground once again. I now found myself pressed against the grey cat's broad chest, with the thick, lengthy tail coiling around my shoulder and draping across the base of my throat. It looped around the back of my neck it was so long, the tip flicking lightly every few minutes, serving as a substitute for the hand that had previously held me in place and tickling my ear as it did so.
As I found myself ensnared in the embrace of the green-eyed feline-like alien, my eyes darted nervously towards the yellow-eyed counterpart. Their unspoken conversation seemed to have the aristocrats tense, leaving me to wonder about the cryptic exchange happening between the two. Caught between their unknown intentions, I sighed softly, realizing that my hopes for escape were momentarily shelved in the grasp of these beautiful alien predators. With a mix of apprehension and determination, I settled in, for now, watching the two felines exchange what felt like coded messages right before my eyes.