A Sex Slavee To Alien Masters

Instead, Christof would awaken with me in the middle of the night and “take his time’ as he said. He was so sweet and gentle; it was like he was my boyfriend. We spent hours on the chaise cuddling, talking, and sometimes making love. What we did was always my choice and I loved Christof deeply for giving me that. My time with him at night was my favorite time.

Lunch was my second favorite time of the day. Most afternoons Christof came to feed me. We had completely given up eating in the Lunchroom and instead walked in the forest. It had become so common the Keepers left my Kneeling pad in the courtyard and I waited for him just inside the wall.

Just like at home, Christof didn’t treat me Like a slave, but like an equal he could talk to. When we were alone together, we were just friends. I fed myself from the bowl and usually chose what direction to walk in. He just accompanied me as I explored different places in the forest. Christof just seemed to need someone he could relax around.

I got comfortable with Christof. He encouraged me to talk about home and listened curiously to all of it. Stories about my prior Life intrigued him. How humans lived together, males and females in the same place, it amazed him.

Christof never minded my questions and told me all about this world.

One day he showed me how to hold a sword. I had to use a branch, I couldn’t even lift his sword off the ground. We played ‘warrior’ with the branches frequently.

“Who do you fight with?” I asked swinging my branch the way he had taught me to.

he instructed before answering. “Too

had fixed my hands and released my

G E L A ‘s

things from the shopkeepers. It is our job to protect them,” he told me. “We patrol around the surrounding area to keep the raiders

commented wrinkling

are exciting. My brothers also look forward to them.” His face darkened and he looked different suddenly, “We enjoy fair battles we

not all

me. It was an odd comment and I wasn’t sure who ‘they’ were. He didn’t want to talk about it, though. Instead, Christof asked about my mother. He knew

me too sad and I would cry. I could never resist talking about her,

That still confused Christof greatly. He had

I told him how my family kicked me out of my bed and sometimes ate all the food. I explained the unkind remarks and the many

having a family that hurt you or couldn’t be