Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79941 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79941 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Ketha tensed, but he must have been talking about one of the other girls because no one touched her.
“Seven hundred credits,” Nanny Grim said promptly.
“I see. And this one?”
“Only six hundred for her, Sir,” the older woman responded.
“They’re both lovely. But what about this one?” The voice came closer and a heavy hand fell on Ketha’s shoulder. She flinched and would have cried out, if the gag hadn’t been in place.
“Ahh, now this one is special, Sir. Twelve hundred credits and I won’t take a penny less. She’s pregnant, you see—so you’ll be getting two for the price of one!” Nanny Grim told him proudly. “Such a fine girl too—I’m told she’s carrying a son.”
“A son, is it?” the prospective buyer rumbled. A big, warm hand came down to cup Ketha’s baby bump.
She tried to pull back but the hand followed her.
“All right now, sweetheart—don’t worry. I won’t hurt you or the little one,” the stranger growled softly.
“No more twitching, girl!” Nanny Grim added and poked Ketha in the back with the pain prod warningly.
Ketha held still and let the stranger touch her. His hand was warm at least and he didn’t make any move to fondle her breasts, so that was something, she supposed.
“A son, is it? A fine son,” he remarked, rubbing her baby bump gently. “Well then, I’ll take them both,” he said to Nanny Grim. “Twelve hundred, did you say?”
“So I did, Sir—so I did,” Nanny Grim replied eagerly. “And you’ve made yourself a bargain, so you have.”
“So I have,” the buyer mused and then Ketha heard the sounds of money exchanging hands.
“Here you go—would you like a collar and a leash for her?” Nanny Grim asked. “I don’t recommend you let her walk free—she’s a feisty one, so she is!”
“No collar. She’s small enough—I’ll just carry her,” the deep voice said.
Wait—he’s going to carry me? How big is he, anyway? Ketha wondered. She wasn’t exactly small—her mother had always been trying to get her to lose weight.
But of course, she couldn’t see her new owner or talk to him. She could only wait as he untied her wrists and swung her up into his arms.
She made a soundless gasp and he settled her more firmly against his chest.
“Don’t worry—not going to drop you,” he told her in that low, distorted voice. Was he wearing a sound module or had he injured his throat in some way? Ketha had no way of knowing—or of asking, since the gag was still tied around her throat. Though she was burning with questions, she could only hold still as her new owner carried her out of the Flesh Bazaar in his arms.
As the sounds of the sellers and the slaves faded, she felt a surge of fear and uncertainty.
A whole new life was beginning for her now, but what would it be?
20
KETHA
Her new owner carried Ketha quite a long way, his footsteps echoing in the long corridors leading to the docking area. But despite the great distance, he never seemed to get out of breath and he never had to put her down to rest. Whoever he was, he must be immensely strong, she thought uneasily. What would he do to her once he got her back to his ship?
She got her answer sooner than she wanted because only five minutes after she’d had the apprehensive thought, she heard the sound of a door sliding open and he carried her into a smaller space.
She wanted to ask if this was his ship and where they were going, but of course she couldn’t with the gag still around her throat. She wished she could see him but the blind patches were still over her eyes as well.
After a moment, he put her down on a soft, yielding surface that felt like a couch or a chair. Ketha heard him settle beside her and then he untied the gag from around her throat, freeing her vocal cords so she could make noise again.
“Who are you? Where am I? Please don’t hurt me!” The words came rushing out in a flood.
“Shhh…don’t worry about that, sweetheart,” the low, distorted voice of her protector murmured. “And don’t take those off either—not yet,” he added, brushing aside her hands when she reached up to take off the blinding patches.
“But please—I want to see you,” Ketha pleaded.
“Not yet,” he rumbled. “First, I want to talk—I want to hear your story from start to finish.”
“My…my story?” She looked up at him blindly. His voice was coming from above her—he must be tall.
“Yes. I want to hear how you got pregnant and who the father is and if I need to worry about him coming after me for buying you,” her new owner said.
“You don’t need to worry about that,” Ketha said bitterly. “I’ve been trying and trying to get in touch with him but he’s never answered once. I don’t think he cares if I live or die.”