A Sex Slavee To Alien Masters

“You could pleasure yourselves with your hands,” I said hopefully, “or I could pleasure you with my hand.”

That would be unheard of. A man’s seed must be deposited in a living vessel. Anything Less would be a terrible insult. Their essence should only be left somewhere alive.

The collective opinion clashed with my own and Christof gasped at my take on the matter.

“It is a form of control,” he said softly while rising to pace the floor. “We could make our own release, but the women want us to depend on them for it.”

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Damien started to understand and slowly they all did. The women force them to look forward to the horrible couplings by making sure they didn’t get relief any other way. Damien and his Brothers had never looked at it like that.

A strange memory occurred to me. My uncles had used socks and towels to clean up the resulting mess when the pleasured themselves. The women just didn’t want the men using their seed Like that.

appeasement for overanxious Warriors who would not wait. Slaves

five small towels. I sat up and watched him hand them out. Everyone was excited and perplexed about

never encouraged to do it. It was such a temptation, though. It would feel so

feel better if

finish wins,” I said softly and to no one in

The others followed suit and I watched fascinated at their impromptu circle jerk. They looked down at what they were doing with fascination. No one had ever

Brothers followed in

control them this way. If they felt the urge again, they had an outlet. There was nothing wrong with what I called masturbating.

lavatory and washed. We were all elated at their new found freedom. They felt a measure

a grin, “we enjoy the way

and petted my growing belly. Freedom felt good and I was glad my daughter

theirs. It forced us to know each other and compromise on even the littlest thing. As my belly grew, I felt more and more attached to

other in ways I’d