{"sf1_id":1090027,"sf2_id":"J1OLD4ze","title":"Dancing Lonesome with the Stars","author":"Dr1ft3r0I","words":499,"posted_at":"2016-10-26T07:15:40.000Z","tags":["Abuse","Alien","Drabble","Female","Halo","Human","M/F","Male","Sex","Slavery","sangheili"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1090027-dancing-lonesome-with-the-stars","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/J1OLD4ze","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/06/13/06132229-e8c6-4806-b431-64d22741bc7b","description":"A Halo AU involving those sexy Sangheili and the human they captured.","content":"**September 7, 2557**\n\n**Somewhere in Sangheili Space**\n\nIt was yet another packed hall that night as she danced.\u0026nbsp; As befitting a ship crewed primarily by Sangheili, the hall was mostly full of warriors of that race; but, scattered amongst them were the occasional Kig-Yar and T’vaoan.\u0026nbsp; She danced for them, teased them, promised them heights of bliss that surely only the Forerunners knew.\u0026nbsp; There were other dancers, true, other women that they all admired.\u0026nbsp; But she was different.\u0026nbsp;\n\nShe was _human_.\u0026nbsp;\n\nFrom her alabaster skin to her flaming red hair, she was, to the crew of this vessel at least, as valuable as water in a desert.\u0026nbsp; Even now, with multitudes of hungry, carnal eyes upon her, she exuded a grace and calm the accentuated her movements, gliding and swaying across the floor.\u0026nbsp; Like a goddess made flesh, paths opened before her, hopeful patrons wishing for the closeness of this captured beauty.\u0026nbsp;\n\nA crowd stands before her, led by a high ranking Ranger.\u0026nbsp; He steps forward, growling softly, his desires plain as day if one looked down. \u0026nbsp;She stops, just inches away from his lean, armored bulk as she looks up at him coyly.\u0026nbsp; They made an interesting sight, polished silver armor next to shifting blues and green sashes.\u0026nbsp; He states that he claims her first for the ‘night,’ and she knows that is his right, according to his station.\u0026nbsp;\n\nAnother patron roars, challenging the claim.\u0026nbsp; This one is a Field Marshal, one that she is, for her position in life, reluctantly and intimately acquainted with.\u0026nbsp; It looks as though the two will come to blows over her before the Ranger wisely backs off.\u0026nbsp; She smiles forlornly at the almost lucky male as she slips over to the Marshal.\u0026nbsp; He grins savagely as his prize stops beside him; all the others will have to settle with the regular Sangheili consorts for the night.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe human is taken to the Marshal’s chambers, a mere token politeness: she has, after all, served most of the males on this vessel, the Marshal merely using his title more often than not.\u0026nbsp; They reach the room and step inside, the Marshal’s eagerness evident.\u0026nbsp; Turning her head away, she dances one last time, discarding her clothing as she writhes.\u0026nbsp; Soon, her body is exposed to him, her body shining with a thin layer of sweat already.\u0026nbsp; The Marshal, now exposed, rushes forward and takes her, and takes her often.\u0026nbsp;\n\nWhen she awakens later, bits of armor are scattered about the Marshal’s chambers, the male asleep beside her.\u0026nbsp; Her loins ache, patches of purple show the bruising of the last few hours, and the air reeks of stale sex.\u0026nbsp; She sits up, and glares at the Marshal in contempt.\u0026nbsp; Soon, he would die.\u0026nbsp; Him, and every other alien bastard on this ship between her and escape.\u0026nbsp; But not now.\u0026nbsp; Not when she was injured, unarmed, and unarmored.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe captured Spartan known as Noble Six had lasted this long.\u0026nbsp; She could wait to strike a little longer.\u0026nbsp;"}