A Sex Slave To Alien Masters (Erotica)

Ulla was one of the Runts. They were considered the weakest pack in the proving grounds, though Ulla’s problem wasn’t that she couldn’t fight. One-on-one she could have probably taken out half of the encampment. Ulla’s problem was that she couldn’t listen. Teamwork was an almost alien concept to her and she’d been through five other packs before finally falling in with the Runts. All of the other packs had rejected her because she simply wouldn’t do as she was told.

Ulf had kept her, and for that she seemed to have developed a grudging sense of gratitude. Though Ulla’s thanks often came with an ass-whupping the like of which he’d just received. If he was honest, he hadn’t kept her with them because she was a useful member of the pack. She was headstrong, she didn’t get on with anyone, and in a true battle she would probably get them all killed.

He’d allowed her to stay simply because looking at Ulla Strongblood had quite a strong affect on him. She was strong, fast, and a great fighter. It was only right that he should respect that. At least that’s what he’d told himself for the past year she’d been with his pack. Lately, however, even he had to admit that it was much more than respect that kept his eyes wandering over to her whenever the opportunity presented itself.noveldrama

Those wandering eyes of his hadn’t gone unnoticed by Ulla. She quite enjoyed the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention. Others looked, of course. Why shouldn’t they? She was Ulla Strongblood, younger sister of Rowun Strongblood. She would be a prized mate for any male if they could best her. She had already started getting unofficial little challenges for her affection the previous year, and had even begun to accept those challenges two months ago. So far none had managed to claim her affections in direct combat and she hadn’t felt that any of them deserved for her to go easy on them.

Ulf on the other hand had kept his interest to himself for some reason. He was the noble sort, with a high name of his own to live up to as one of the son’s of the warchief. He hadn’t tried to challenge her because it might have made waves in their pack and he didn’t want to lose her as a pack mate. It was a shame. Ulla felt Ulf’s strong body between her legs and decided that she might not fight her hardest against the idea of rutting with him. When that thought crossed her mind she smiled down at him before pushing her firm rear back to rub herself against the soft lump of his loincloth. It did not remain soft for very long.

“Ulla! What-” Ulf started to ask before she leaned over him and placed her fingers across his lips to hush him.

“I just saw you out here, burning a box of suspiciously cock-shaped clubs and wondered if you collected them because yours didn’t work. I’m very glad to report that I was wrong.” She grinned wickedly and wiggled her hips to feel him beneath her. “It’s a big one isn’t it? Perhaps one made for two hands?”

“Will you quit it!” He growled and shoved her off him as she rolled over onto her back and laughed. Instead of pouncing him all over again, she reached over for her linen bag and opened it up to show him the cuts of juicy beef and fresh bread inside.

Ulf licked his lips and walked back to her, urged on by the inviting smell that had emerged from the bag. Within moments he was sat beside her on the forest floor, munching on the beef and bread whilst Ulla watched him curiously.

“I thank you for this.” He said after the third mouthful.

“You’d have done the same for me.”

“I would.” He nodded.

“So, why are you out here burning cock-clubs? Should I be worried?”

The question got an unexpected laugh from Ulf. “No. Someone carved them out of the training clubs last night. Ulag thought Nullik was to blame because, let’s face it, it’s nearly always Nullik who’s to blame for such things.”

“Well I was going to-” Ulla started but fell silent when she saw something else catch Ulf’s attention.

It didn’t take long for her to pick up on it. Battle! The blood warmed at the prospect and she scrambled to her feet along with Ulf to run through the forest in the direction of the noise. The ringing clash of metal along with the grunts and yells of combat called to the young orcs like some sweet siren song.

Ulla was ready to burst right out of the foliage and attack whoever dared to fight in their territory. Instead she was only allowed to let out a strangled gurgle of objection when Ulf grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. It was just like Ulla to run straight into any fight. He preferred to at least check that they might stand some chance of winning whatever brawl they were getting into before diving chin-first into the conflict.

Peering through the leaves, he was immediately glad that he’d stopped Ulla. Largely because a full-on attack would have seen them charge out to lay waste to their newest pack mate. Gregory Hopkins, the first human to be allowed into the proving grounds in centuries, was engaging in a fierce sparring match. It wouldn’t have looked favourably on the Runts to have accidentally ambushed one of their own members. They had enough problems already.

The second reason that springing out into the fight would have been a terrible idea came in the form of who Gregory’s sparring partner was. Algra Strongblood was one of the most renowned warriors of her people. She had been the life-mate of Rowun Strongblood until he had fallen in battle. Despite having lost her mate and her status it was evident from watching her that she had definitely not lost her skill in combat. Ulf heard a low, dangerous growl rise from beside him. Ulla had lifted herself up having recognised Algra. Ulf knew little of Rowun, other than what his legends spoke of him. He’d never asked Ulla about her brother, but from the way she tensed with a vicious aggression at the sight of Algra it was clear what she thought of her brother’s life-mate.

The pair of them stayed hidden and watched Algra deftly sidestep Gregory’s strike before closing the distance along his outstretched arm to plant a solid elbow in his chest. Ulf winced, knowing full well that the young human’s chest had been badly injured only weeks before on the proving grounds. The move stunned Gregory and he stumbled backwards allowing Algra to press her advantage, kicking him backwards to smack loudly against the trunk of a tree.

“Yield! Yield already. Damn it, Algra,” Gregory said, woozily trying to bring his vision back into focus.

“That was pathetic. Slow. Poorly timed and you continue to use your head too much,” She gave him a disapproving clout over the back of the aforementioned head in an effort to get him to snap out of it.

“Well, I did consider just taking my head off at my shoulders and putting it to one side, but I don’t think that would make me fight any better.”

“That is not what I mean, idiot! And if you go into a true battle like this then someone else will soon do that for you.” Algra started pacing in front of him. “All warriors need to use their head in battle, but we think of the long-fight. You use your head to think of the short-fight.” She stopped to jab a finger into his sore chest.