A Sex Slavee To Alien Masters

I was knew I was more than a sex toy, so I tried to be industrious.

I attempted to clean the apartment once, just out of habit. They chastised me and the posts were threatened for daring to step outside my role. There were men that cleaned the rooms during the day, my owners didn’t need or want me to do that.

Instinctively, I knew they wanted more. There was some part of our relationship I was missing. Whatever that was I had to find it.

My obedience and zeal had nothing to do with a love of slavery. I hated what I had become, weak and subservient. The desire to fully please them came from a selfish place. Happy Masters would not sell their slave. The worst nightmare I could imagine involved the nameless, faceless creatures that would own me next.

I started to watch my Masters. Any time we were together I paid all of my attention to them. It became my all consuming desire to provide whatever they needed. The only way to do that was to figure out what they wanted.

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Even Christof wasn’t helpful. He told me the same thing the girls did.

it, stay healthy, and they

them until a chuke game one late afternoon. They were playing with a group of men that did not own slaves; I was by myself in the tent. It allowed me to really watch the game without

men worked together, but the part

the other side of the field. Master Evan retrieved the ball and moved it with surprising accuracy to Christof. Master Bane knocked down the men in Christof’s way and after a rapid sprint, they scored

didn’t seem to have the diversity of talent my men did. My owners were each very good at what

to me and

are you making that

said pointing, “got in Master Christof’s way and tripped him. He wouldn’t have

Evan panted for a

before anyone caught

stumped on what to say for a moment. He settled on telling

the other men,” I told him honestly. “In fact, your aim with the ball