Harem Assassins : King Sekton's Harem Planet, Book 2: A Space Opera Harem Adventure by Baron Sord (top inspirational books .txt) 📗

corridor Main Street. It was one of the longest corridors here, and it was central to the complex of disparate buildings.

No, call it Babe Street.

For obvious reasons.

Hundreds of hot babes smiled at me flirtatiously. I wasn’t exaggerating when I said every single one was a supermodel and a perfect 10. That was literal fact.

Did any of them look like assassins to you?

Not to me, they didn’t.

Did they all have looks that killed?

Yup, but only one was planning to kill me in this corridor.

I had no idea which woman it was. The only thing I saw was their blinding beauty. It outshone any hint of ill will.

“Good morning, my king,” said the nearest supermodel, a beautiful brunette who could easily play the role of Wonder Woman whenever the studio decided to reboot the franchise with a younger, hotter lead actress. To me, nothing about this beautiful Zalaxian brunette said villainous vixen.

“Morning,” I smiled and tipped her a nod as we passed each other.

I didn’t bother to spin around and check if she had whipped out a bolt pistol to blast a hole in my back.

Why would I?

Based on everything I’d seen, my concubines adored me. Every woman I passed in this corridor flashed me sultry looks that suggested they were undressing me with their eyes.

I didn’t have to undress any of them with my eyes because almost every babe here wore a stylish tight-fitting Zalaxian military work uniform that did the undressing for me. Every anatomical prominence was clearly defined under the thin fabric. If you’ve ever looked closely at the uniform worn back in the day by Marina Sirtis playing Deanna Troi in Star Trek: The Next Generation, you know exactly what I’m talking about.

Zalaxian uniform colors varied by rank and specialty. What didn’t vary was the uniform’s deep V-cut cleavage that dove from their cloth neck collars to below the navels of their flat stomachs, and pointed directly at their… you guessed it. If you didn’t, think concealed weapon. Or think thigh gap like I was. As for the degree of cleavage, in every case it was gratuitously shameless and highly revealing.

Definitely Babe Street.

Did I mention I loved this place?

Last but not least, take a gander at the small platoon of beautiful warrior women wearing power armor and carrying intimidatingly large Kurkullan bolt rifles. They marched past me in formation, on their way toward the main hexagonal exit hatch, ready to head out on jungle patrol. Little did they know how close the assassin’s blade was to my throat in this moment. If they had known, they would’ve circled defensively around me to shield me from harm. They’d done it before and I trusted them to do it again.

But they didn’t know.

Nobody knew an assassin had infiltrated the outpost.

Least of all me.

“Good to see you, my king,” gushed the next supermodel walking toward me. She was a ravishing redhead who reminded me of this Instagram babe I had followed back on Earth, except better looking. Yes, better. And she didn’t look anything like an assassin to me.

If you think I’m naive, ask yourself how often you get in your car at night after work, and before starting the engine, you check the back seat for the Piano Wire Strangler crouching and ready to pounce. You don’t check. Neither did I. Because, until a few days ago, I had never been the acting king of an entire planet. I was a nerdy engineer from Earth with hefty student loans. No one cared to kill me because my backbreaking loans had been doing a fine job of that on their own. Anyway, the enormity of my new situation here on Zalaxia was still sinking in.

“Good to see you too,” I chuckled giddily at the ravishing redhead, whose killer looks would turn any man into the Chicken Choking Strangler.

She blushed in response to my giddy greeting, her eyes all over me and shimmering with desire.

It was impossible to not feel giddy when one babe after another greeted me like a long lost lover who hadn’t gotten enough of me the first time and was dying for seconds, thirds, and fourths.

For one breathtaking second, the redhead passed dangerously close. Her hands shifted suddenly to—

Adjust her uniform’s V-cut cleavage to maximum effect.

It was impossible for me to not watch her intimate adjustment, and to not be completely distracted by…

The next gorgeous babe to approach me. She was a pinup-perfect blonde. Call her Pinup Blonde. Did I know her name? Of course not. There were too many hot babes here to know all their names. Chuckle. Their cleavage, on the other hand…

Think endless mental catalogue — annotated and arranged according to cup size, starting with the letter C. A and B were covered by a very short appendix in the back of the catalogue. With a few pert exceptions, nearly every woman on Zalaxia that I’d seen was generously endowed.

When Pinup Blonde saw me, her eyes lit with recognition. Her full lips eased into an inviting smile and her cheeks blushed with naked desire. Thanks to her hypnotically sauntering stride, her impressive breasts were doing their bouncing-best to bust out of the V-cut in her uniform.

I was mesmerized. Nothing about her suggested assassin. Not that I was looking too closely. My eyes had locked onto her heavenly breasts and would not let go.

Like every woman at the outpost, Pinup Blonde knew me on sight. I was the only king here. Technically, I was only the acting king, but they treated me like I was the king. And I was definitely the only man walking the outpost’s many corridors.

That I’d seen, anyway.

Presumably, there were male slaves around here somewhere, but I hadn’t seen any since I had first arrived. That night, I had touched down on the outpost’s rooftop landing deck and had been horrified to see an entire brigade’s worth of broken and withered men. They had been wearing rags while kneeling under the immense golden dais of the former King Sekton Darkstar. Those male