The Virgin Hunt Games, Volume 2
by Mel Teshco
Series: The Virgin Hunt Games, #2
Genre: Dystopian, Erotic Romance
Publisher: Entangled One Handed Reads
Release Date: February 15, 2021
EARTH, YEAR 2328
The Virgin Hunt Games continues.
One innocent virgin. One jaded lothario. One dazzling fortune to the winner. But first one must survive…
Landry hid a smile as the two hunters moved toward him in a coordinated attack. With all their pent-up testosterone, thanks to all ten hunters having to abstain from sex for a month, it was almost a relief to face such dangerous adversaries.
During his forced career as a sex worker, it wasn’t uncommon for him to service four or five women in a night. In fact, his enhancement ensured that ability was possible day in and day out. His stomach twisted. The sex had been soulless. He’d had no idea what real love felt like while he’d pleasured one woman after another.
His stomach twisted even harder at the memory of being held down while robots implanted a sexoma into his genitalia. He hadn’t wanted any modifications, but the exclusive sexhouse he’d worked for hadn’t given him a choice.
Not unlike his greedy, immoral mother who’d forced him into sexual slavery at the age of seventeen. She’d even smiled as she’d watched the distinctive slave-choker locked into place around his neck. All for a fistful of déchas to cover her drug habit for a few more months.
It had seemed like a fortune at the time, but his mother had been ripped off big-time. Landry had earned his madam more servicing his very first client. It was only the super wealthy who were allowed to set foot past the grand entrance of the exclusive sexhouse. And a young virgin male was all but priceless to wealthy socialites.
He brushed his fingertips over his throat, then shook off the memories as he shook the stiffness from his hands and smiled at the hunters. He wanted his enemies to believe he was waiting for them to make the first move. Especially since Cyodal was now aware of Landry’s fighting skills.
What Cyodal couldn’t know was that Landry had mastered shinkata—a deadly and skilled combination of Earth martial arts, Leshonxa combat, and Tenx strikeout. He was considered one of the best and had trained relentlessly to get to the top, with plans to earn big money fighting in highly illegal battle rings once he left sex work behind.
He needed some other form of survival for the day his slave-choker was removed. Because even the women who regularly visited the sex-house to be fucked exclusively by him would look the other way if they passed him on the street. And if he was already an outcast for being a sex worker, he was shit under the filthiest boot for being a defective.
But in the end none of that mattered. Scouts had been watching him as a possible hunter in the Games, and that alone had turned out to be the best potential investment for his future.
The hunters were nearly upon him when he went from motionless to full-speed attack.
Take out the weakest first.
He struck Cyodal hard. A swift kick to the hunter’s sensitive groin and Cyodal doubled over with a pained grunt. Landry stepped in closer and drove his fist into the hunter’s solar plexus, forcing the air from Cyodal’s lungs and dropping him to the ground as he fought for breath.
Landry spun to face his far bigger and tougher adversary. But Goliath no longer appeared keen to fight. Instead he nodded respectfully and put up his dinner-plate-sized palms. “I’m not willing to risk injury for your hunted. Keep her. I’m sure I’ll be enjoying my own mate soon enough.”
Landry nodded and uncurled his fingers. Taking out Goliath wouldn’t have been easy. The man was nothing short of a solid brick wall and Landry had no doubt he’d been trained to fight and to win. That Goliath had also learned when not to fight was to his credit.
Landry glanced at Cyodal lying prone on the floor. Unlike that hunter. Cyodal should have learned his lesson the first time. But the alien male was obviously short on brain cells.
During his forced career as a sex worker, it wasn’t uncommon for him to service four or five women in a night. In fact, his enhancement ensured that ability was possible day in and day out. His stomach twisted. The sex had been soulless. He’d had no idea what real love felt like while he’d pleasured one woman after another.
His stomach twisted even harder at the memory of being held down while robots implanted a sexoma into his genitalia. He hadn’t wanted any modifications, but the exclusive sexhouse he’d worked for hadn’t given him a choice.
Not unlike his greedy, immoral mother who’d forced him into sexual slavery at the age of seventeen. She’d even smiled as she’d watched the distinctive slave-choker locked into place around his neck. All for a fistful of déchas to cover her drug habit for a few more months.
It had seemed like a fortune at the time, but his mother had been ripped off big-time. Landry had earned his madam more servicing his very first client. It was only the super wealthy who were allowed to set foot past the grand entrance of the exclusive sexhouse. And a young virgin male was all but priceless to wealthy socialites.
He brushed his fingertips over his throat, then shook off the memories as he shook the stiffness from his hands and smiled at the hunters. He wanted his enemies to believe he was waiting for them to make the first move. Especially since Cyodal was now aware of Landry’s fighting skills.
What Cyodal couldn’t know was that Landry had mastered shinkata—a deadly and skilled combination of Earth martial arts, Leshonxa combat, and Tenx strikeout. He was considered one of the best and had trained relentlessly to get to the top, with plans to earn big money fighting in highly illegal battle rings once he left sex work behind.
He needed some other form of survival for the day his slave-choker was removed. Because even the women who regularly visited the sex-house to be fucked exclusively by him would look the other way if they passed him on the street. And if he was already an outcast for being a sex worker, he was shit under the filthiest boot for being a defective.
But in the end none of that mattered. Scouts had been watching him as a possible hunter in the Games, and that alone had turned out to be the best potential investment for his future.
The hunters were nearly upon him when he went from motionless to full-speed attack.
Take out the weakest first.
He struck Cyodal hard. A swift kick to the hunter’s sensitive groin and Cyodal doubled over with a pained grunt. Landry stepped in closer and drove his fist into the hunter’s solar plexus, forcing the air from Cyodal’s lungs and dropping him to the ground as he fought for breath.
Landry spun to face his far bigger and tougher adversary. But Goliath no longer appeared keen to fight. Instead he nodded respectfully and put up his dinner-plate-sized palms. “I’m not willing to risk injury for your hunted. Keep her. I’m sure I’ll be enjoying my own mate soon enough.”
Landry nodded and uncurled his fingers. Taking out Goliath wouldn’t have been easy. The man was nothing short of a solid brick wall and Landry had no doubt he’d been trained to fight and to win. That Goliath had also learned when not to fight was to his credit.
Landry glanced at Cyodal lying prone on the floor. Unlike that hunter. Cyodal should have learned his lesson the first time. But the alien male was obviously short on brain cells.
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Her gypsy-like upbringing saw her living in many places along Australia's east coast. Each new home stimulated an already over-active imagination, where she spent as much time dreaming about fantasy worlds as the real world - the fantasy sometimes being much better.
Now living on a beautiful rural property surrounded by mountains - her fat black horse, three cats and two dogs couldn't be happier. A proud mother of three gorgeous girls and two cheeky grandchildren, and married to Mr Patience (mostly), life is pretty damn good.
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