The Colony Special Boxed Set

Chapter 3-1

Rachel, Carswell Penitentiary, Solitary Confinement

Rachel, Carswell Penitentiary, Solitary Confinement

I sat on the bed, the only reasonably soft surface in my cell, my scratchy wool blanket wrapped around me. My knees were tucked up to my chest and my back pressed into the corner. I was alone, the silence of the space almost deafening. Even with one of the four walls being bars that opened to a long, main hallway, all was quiet. The painted cinderblock walls and gray sealed floor offered nothing of interest to look at. The single tiny window to the outside world was so high up that I couldn’t look out even if I stood on top of the bed. I knew, I’d tried. I could see the sky, know if it was clear or cloudy, but no ground. I didn’t even know what direction I faced.

reasonablyI’d heard this section of the facility had been designed that way. We’d come in through an underground tunnel, turning several times before stopping. The path from the converted prison bus to this confinement wing provided several additional turns with no windows. It was impossible to keep any bearings. No ground to look at.

If I didn’t win my appeal, I would not see anything more of the world other than a few clouds for the next twenty-five years. That idea drove many to insanity, or to take their own life. What was a life with nothing in it? The clothes were drab, the cell drab, the food even more drab. There was nothing left.

But I had hope. God, I clung to that hope by my chewed-to-the-quick fingernails. What else was there?

The evidence my lawyer had would set me free. It proved my innocence. That one thumb drive was everything that stood between me and a life in hell. Until then, I waited. Day after day of nothing.

I ran my hand over my face, trying to think of something… anything besides my case, my tiny cell, my new life. It was easy to think about the testing dream, for it had been perfect. I’d been free, no bars or concrete walls. I’d had two men who wanted me with desperation. I’d felt wanted. God, had I needed. And the things they did to me!

I was no prude. I knew where my c**t was and ensured my lovers did, too. Lovers, but not two at once like the dream. It had been a fantasy of mine. What woman didn’t dream about two men who knew exactly what they were doing? And they hadn’t had the Brides Program testing dream like I’d had.

Holy hell, that had been hot. Twice as hot.

My n*****s tightened and my c**t throbbed just remembering their hands, their mouths, their c***s.

The dream lingered in my blood and I wanted to touch myself, knowing I was wet. The ache there had my hands slipping down between my thighs. Remembering that there were guards watching, I pulled my hand away. I wouldn’t taint the dream by touching myself and having the guards watch. I’d touch myself at night, when they turned the lights out. Again and again.

God, even my orgasms were controlled. And bland. Even if I used my fingers to circle my c**t and slip inside my p***y, it wouldn’t be anything like what those men in the dream made me feel. For twenty-five years I’d have in-the-dark, m**********n delivered orgasms. Nothing else.

And just that fast, I was back to feeling sorry for myself.

Maybe I should just call that Warden Egara and leave. Leave all of it behind. The lawyers and prison guards. The guilt.

Strangely, the hair on my arms rose as if lightning had struck mere seconds before I heard voices. They were tipped low, but deep. It wasn’t lunchtime and I hadn’t heard the loud buzzer indicating the floor’s locked entry door was opening. There was no squeaky wheel from the food cart. No footsteps, until now. Someone, or two someones, were walking along the hall quickly.

“How will we know who she is?”

I jumped to my feet, curious. Nothing different from the monotonous routine ever occurred.

“Warden Egara says we’ll just know.”

The voices became louder. I could hear others down the line of cells calling out to them. From walking past, there were four cells between mine and the main door, and two after.

“No. No. No.” It sounded as if they were playing Duck, Duck, Goose.

When the big men walked up to my bars, they stilled. Their eyes were on me, roving over every single inch. I felt it, their gazes, as if there weren’t bars between us and their hands were on me.

“She is the one,” the taller man said to the other. They held guns in their hands, guns unlike anything I’d ever seen. Smaller than a tiny pistol, they were very shiny metal and no competition for the rifles strapped over some of the prison guards’ shoulders.

To call the other man short would have been humorous, for they were large. Very, very large. The shorter one was easily a few inches over six feet. They were like lumberjacks and Highlanders combined. They weren’t wearing plaid, but form-fitting armor of some kind that made them look like gladiators wearing armor molded to define every muscle. The strange black armor was mottled with browns and greens, almost like military camouflage but more like the swirls found in decorative marble.

shorter One had dark, deep coppery brown hair and dark skin, the other was golden and light, his hair and skin both a pale yellow. And Terminator parts. But I wouldn"t consider them now. The dark one had eyes like milk chocolate, the light one’s eyes were amber. But neither was human. The angular lines of their cheekbones and oddly shaped eyes made them look just strange enough to make my heart race in panic. But their massive frames and muscular bodies made my p***y cry out in welcome. I knew those features, those huge hands. This was the race of alien warrior I’d seen in my dream at the Brides Processing center. And thanks to the warden and her brain games, all I could think about as they approached was the size of their c***s…and what it might feel like to be sandwiched between them.

My body reacted viscerally. Yes, they were handsome. Yes, they met every single one of my checkboxes for what I considered to be a hot guy. Times two. My palms were damp and my heart literally skipped a beat, but I felt a connection as if there were a thread between us. It was more than just the processing center dream, it was instinctive. Deeper.

I felt like I knew them.

knew“Rachel Pierce of Earth. I am Maxim and this is Ryston. We are your mates from the planet Prillon Prime.”

Oh. My. God. They were mine? My mates from the match.

mine?I couldn’t move. My feet felt as if they were anchored into the concrete just like my bed and the stool.

“What are you doing here?” I whispered. I craned my neck, twisting in an attempt to look past them, knowing the guards would be coming. How had they gotten past security?

“We are claiming you,” the dark one said. “We are taking you with us. Now.”

“Taking me…you can’t be serious.” I looked at the bars and knew it wasn’t going to happen. The guards were not going to release me to go with these guys. No way. And I couldn’t decide if that made me happy or strangely disappointed.

“Transport.”

Transport? This was insane. Was I becoming delusional and hallucinating now that I’d been alone for so long? Was I dreaming again?

They seemed confident in their words. They didn’t look for the guards nor seem to worry that they would encounter them anytime soon.

“But, I said I wasn’t ready. I don’t want to be a bride. I… I refused the match.” Looking at these two had me wondering why I’d done so. If these were my mates, perhaps being sent off-planet wasn’t such a bad idea.

No. No! I had my name to clear, my life here on Earth. I wanted a choice, and this didn’t feel like one.

But neither was prison. That wasn’t my choice either.

“We will discuss this back at the transport center.” It was the dark one that spoke, Maxim. Only him. The other, the golden one named Ryston, remained stoic beside him. While it seemed he was not the leader, I didn’t doubt that he was a commanding figure all on his own.

“Transport center?” I was a scientist. I had two advanced degrees, and yet I was reduced to simple questions.

“Your life is in danger and we will not allow your innocent notions of justice to cost you your life. We are taking you with us for your own protection.”

I laughed then. “That’s noble of you, but you’re forgetting one thing.” I pointed to the bars that kept us separated. “I’m a prisoner here. They’re not going to let you take me.”

“You think ionized steel can keep us from you?”

“Well, yes,” I countered.

The dark one, Maxim, stepped up to the bars, took one in each hand and grinned at me as he pulled them apart like they were no more substantial than pieces of aluminum foil.

I stumbled back, bumped into the metal edge of the bed and sank down.

When the other, his second, joined his efforts, the bars were pulled apart within seconds, just like in a Superman movie.

SupermanIf I had time to think about it, I’d find the action hotter than hell. But the odd sound of the steel bending wasn’t the only thing I heard. The buzzer at the end of the block indicated the entry door to the cellblock was opening. Another sound, one I hadn’t heard before, yet very obviously an alarm, blared. I winced at the loud noise, but was mesmerized by the men.

Maxim stepped through the opening they made followed by Ryston. The cell was small to begin with, but with them inside, looming over me, I felt like we were standing inside a thimble. I backed into the corner, afraid. It was one thing to have sexy fantasies about them, it was another to have them break into a jail cell to kidnap me and take me to another planet.

“Do not fear us. Never fear us,” Maxim said, reaching his hand out and grabbing my arm. His hold was gentle, yet he pulled me to stand on the mattress before him with ease.

Never “Contact made. Transport now,” Ryston said as the hurried sound of boots hitting concrete sped toward the cell. He spoke into some kind of unit on his wrist. The last thing I thought of, before a hum filled the space, my hair rose on my forearms again and the shouting of guards was heard over the shrill alarm, was that I’d been mated to two men from Star Trek.

Star Trek* * *

Captain Ryston Rayall

Captain Ryston Rayall

This Earth female was our bride? It had been hard to move when we’d stopped at her prison cell. I’d asked Maxim how we’d know which female was ours within the cellblock. I’d quickly counted six cells when we transported in. It would have been easier to transport directly into our mate’s cell, but Warden Egara didn’t know which one held our female. So, instead of transporting into the wrong space, we’d walked along the hallway and found her by gut instinct alone.

Yet standing before us, wide eyed and clearly attracted to her mates, just as we were affected by her, she was afraid of us. Her eyes widened and her pulse raced at the base of her neck. The thin orange material she wore did nothing to disguise her sweet, feminine scent, nor the unmistakable scent of her arousal.