About Space Pirate Play Toy
Author: Julia Talbot W/a Minerva Howe
Word Count: 6800
Page Count (pdf): 25
Series: Planet Fantasy
Genre: Erotica / Fantasy
Date Published: 03/07/2019
Publisher: Turtlehat Creatives
File Types available: pdf epub and mobi
James is a high-powered executive on earth. Which is why his most treasured fantasy is to become the play toy of a space pirate. He pays to play at Planet Fantasy, but on the way there, he’s kidnapped by the real deal. Or is he?
“I’m sorry, Mr. Boringer. The transport you were originally booked on has had mechanical issues.” The incredibly pleasant young lady with blue skin and two sets of eyelids handed him back his ticket.
“What am I meant to do then?” He was on the moon, for fuck’s sake. This was simply a stopover on his way to Planet Fantasy, and he’d already sent his private shuttle back to earth.
“We can arrange a private contractor to take you to your destination.” She worked for Planet Fantasy, but she was super discreet and never mentioned the name. He supposed he was grateful, as just knowing where he was going might make him a target for unsavory types. It cost a pretty credit to go there.
“Thank you. Is there a lounge?”
“Of course.” She waved a languid hand, and a young man floated out from the office behind her.
“Sir? If you’ll follow me?”
He moved down a long hallway, the carpet suddenly plush, the colors evoking something far different than a spaceport. The lounge, when he entered, was an oasis of calm, with leather furniture, chrome fixtures, and a full bar. A few people sat about, but mostly he was on his own.
“Can you tell me how long?” he asked. James was eager to begin his fantasy.
“Let me check.” No one spoke at full volume. Everything was hushed, designed to comfort the ear.
“Thank you.” He would get a drink and let the ambiance here swallow his irritation. Mechanical issues were beyond him, so he had to trust that the Planet Fantasy people understood what they were doing.
James sank down on a couch, just not sure what to do. There was no one at the—
“Can I get you anything, sir?” A uniformed server with four shapely arms stood beside him, and he hadn’t even heard her arrive.
“Something fruity with booze?” Wasn’t he on vacation? His first in ten years? James needed to feel like it.
“I can leave it to the mixologist? Excellent. Any food?”
“Not now, no.”
“Very good, sir.” She glided off, and he thought maybe she had tentacles down there instead of feet. This place was fascinating, truly intergalactic.
His drink came in a tall glass, and it smelled deep and yet crisp. He had no idea what kind of alcohol it contained, but it was exactly what he’d asked for, and what he needed. Jitters sucked, and so did delays.
“Sir?” The same young man who’d led him in appeared just as he took his last sip. “Your transport is ready.”
“Oh! Thank you.” He stood, his head only spinning a bit.
“I’m afraid the shuttle is not docked at our private landing. Tyrus here will escort you to your departure area.”
“Thanks again.” He handed the kid the glass he held because he had no idea what else to do with it, then followed a huge non-humanoid alien out of the lounge. He had no idea where Tyrus was from, but the guy was amazing, a mountain of reptile-ish green flesh.
Tyrus never spoke, simply indicated he should board a little hover cart, where his luggage waited. He climbed on, and they zoomed off, making his stomach turn over. What the hell had been in that drink? They were going to the damn bowels of the spaceport, too. Gracious.
“Tyrus? Where are we going?”
All James got was a grunt in return. Okay. This was a little… intimidating. His brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders, either.
“Can we stop so I can use the restroom?” James was going to get rid of that drink, or at least what was left of it.
Another grunt, but the cart didn’t stop. What the hell?
“Hey, I want off!” This wasn’t right. This couldn’t be right. They were in some industrial freight dock now, and that was where Tyrus slid to a halt. No way. His shuttle couldn’t be here. He’d paid for luxury. He could have called his own damn shuttle driver back before getting on Tyrus some grocery delivery hauler.
“Take me back to the lounge. I want to speak to someone from Planet Fantasy.” Twenty years of running a high stress consulting business came out in James’s voice.
Tyrus finally turned to look at him, baring a mouthful of razor-sharp teeth. A low, ugly sound came from him, and it took James a long moment to realize it was laughter…
Oh, fuck. What the—