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.

an appeasement for overanxious Warriors who would not wait. Slaves kept men on the

with five small towels. I sat up and watched him hand them

encouraged to do it. It was such a temptation,

better if it seemed

I said softly

their impromptu circle

followed in rapid sequence with Bane losing the whole

the urge again,

their seed were all taken to the lavatory and washed. We were all elated at their new found freedom. They felt a measure of

Damien said to me with a grin, “we

belly. Freedom felt good and I

five men for company, but they were always present. My thoughts were a constant amalgamation of mine and theirs. It

in ways