Hostage Read Online Loki Renard

Categories Genre: Alien, Dark, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 41151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 165(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
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PEW! PEW! PEW! PEW! It’s an almost constant barrage of laser fire. Makes it hard to think, let alone be heard over the din of it all. I raise my voice to be heard on the open channel.

“Authorities, this is Shah, Most Wanted. Stop striking my ship.”

It takes less than a second for them to reply. “Return our drone.”

“No.”

“Then the barrage will continue.”

“Destroying me will destroy the drone.”

There is a brief pause. “What financial compensation would you like to release the drone?”

“I’m keeping her. Next time I dock, I don’t want any trouble. I won’t hurt her as long as you do not attempt to hurt me. Call it insurance.”

“We will call it what it is, Shah, Most Wanted. You have taken one of our drones hostage.”

“If the shoe fits,” I say, evoking an ancient incantation. “She is now my hostage. If you keep firing, I will return fire. The damage to your docks will take months to repair, and you’ll lose your safe harbor status. Think of the revenues you’ll lose. Is one drone worth all that trouble?”

Malik looks confused. I understand why. The authorities and colonists don’t usually care about drones. They’re basically interchangeable parts, cogs in a massive machine. Dreamy must be a very efficient drone, or perhaps a highly skilled one. Or maybe an Elite had his eye on her already. There’re plenty of stories about workers being used as disposable fuck toys for the rich and powerful. I can imagine Dreamy being on someone’s radar. She’s the right kind of cute.

“You may keep the drone for now, but this has been noted on your permanent record.”

I’m sure that threat terrifies Elites and drones alike. I could not give less of a fuck.

“We should give her back,” Malik says as the port locks disengage with two deep clunks that can be felt ship wide. “This is bad luck.”

“I don’t believe in luck.”

“You believe in pussy,” he says, bluntly. “You’re going to be bored of her within a week, and for what? For some bland, helpless, worker-drone sex?”

I don’t dignify that question with an answer.

4

Dreamy

Somehow, we’re out of dock. The firing has stopped. There’s peace again, and quiet. I am left to the ache of my flesh and the certainty that I am being taken far, far away from everything I have ever known. Given that I usually live my life in fear of being in the wrong place by a matter of a few feet, this feels like an outlandish crime. I feel as guilty as any ship raider, scammer, or rogue trader.

What’s going to happen to me now? I can’t imagine Shah having any real use for me. But he’s left dock with me, so I guess I am being abducted. The idea of being at Shah’s mercy leaves me tingly. I don’t know what he’s going to do to me, but I know he’s going to take me to my very limits. I’m going to be sore for a while. Both my ass and my pussy bore the brunt of his punishment, and neither are accustomed to it. Maybe I should get used to being a bad girl. Maybe I should get used to the idea of being used.

It’s a while before the doors to Shah’s room open again. He comes through, looking triumphant. There’s an easy swagger in his step, a pelvic thrust that makes me blush. My brain registers how hot he is all over again. He wasn’t even afraid when we came under fire. He just took it in his stride, from the bedroom to the bridge like it was nothing.

“Is everything okay?”

“More than okay, Dreamy,” he says. That’s a relief, because for a moment there it really felt like we were all going to die, or at least be arrested and imprisoned and wish we were dead. I wouldn’t receive any mercy if I was found in Shah’s possession. Workers who socialize with outlaws are treated as outlaws. There’s nothing authorities like less than poor workers who start to get illegal ideas. What would happen if we all decided we could make money from a life of crime? Who would fold the boxes?

“So we’re going somewhere,” I say, pointing to the stars passing overhead, a clear sign that the ship is in motion. I might be a worker drone from a simple Colony, but I have some common sense. “Where are you taking me?”

“I’m taking you wherever I go. Right now, we’re headed to an outlaw maintenance dock to repair the damage the authorities just did to the ship. Then, who knows. Plunder here, ravage there.” He smiles broadly, so very pleased with himself.

“And. Uhm…” I am afraid to ask the next logical question. “What about me?”

“You’re mine.”

He says it so simply and so matter-of-factly.

“But what am I going to do? Clean? Or maybe cook? Or admin? I can keep records.”


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