A Sex Slavee To Alien Masters

“You are very hard to confuse you for one another,” I told him, “especially you.”

Christof seemed pleased and our Lunch continued with quiet thoughtful conversation.

I swam out my hole in the grate that afternoon and thought about it.

That something I had been missing about my Masters. It was so obvious I had missed it. They wanted me to notice them.

My head bobbed up and I took a breath before diving again. They Liked to be appreciated for their differences. It made sense.

That single thought gave me a plan and a purpose. They liked to feel special, so I would give that to them. Their happiness was the key to my survival and I was determined to live.

In the bathhouse that night I washed Master Damien as usual. He seemed to like me to rub along his lines, so that’s usually how I organized myself. I ran my hands over his chest and back softly massaging and cleaning. He was so well proportioned.

Master Damien?” I asked as I

sitting with his eyes closed. Opening them, he looked quizzically at me. His expression seemed to

he commented, “and no, I do not prefer either of my arms. They work equally

N G E L A ‘s L I B R A R

when he trained and fought. My

I said running my thumbs over his

“but I am trained

prefer to use this one,” I whispered watching

and I looked away. I

said,

tried and I made up my mind I would try again. Evidently some things they didn’t want me

on my mind when they put me to bed that night. I curled up on my side between Master Damien and