Will I feel proud? On my face would be the Slaver’s mark that I’d carry for life, and I’d forever have an un-activated implant dormant in my brainstem. I’ll remain hairless on my body. Would I be able to resume any position of responsibility in the Republic Fleet, or would it be too difficult when every man I work with would know how I look when I climax, and would have seen me making love to Leesha? Survive first, and then consider the future. Stay calm by living in the now, I tell myself. It’s almost pitch dark in my hiding place. The rectangular opening of the window is letting in some starlight, but there are no moons over Aghara-Penthay so I can barely see my own slender hands before me. And it’s so quiet. The silence unsettles me. For many months there was always the background noise of a starship while I slept, and after that there was the sound of other women in the slave pens. But here in the desert there is no sound at all. It’s what they call a deathly silence. I hate it, like I hate everything on this vile planet. 14 - Second I awake, feeling overwhelmingly defenseless and vulnerable, and I sit up with a frightened jolt. I’d not meant to fall asleep. Panic subsiding, I take stock of my surroundings. The rectangle of sky through the window space is a little lighter but I can see it’s still an hour or two before dawn. In theory I’m safe until the sun breaks above the rim of the bowl, but that doesn’t mean the Hunters aren’t waiting somewhere close by, ready to nab me as soon as they’re allowed. The sensible move would be to leave before the sun becomes visible. The sandclaws will have gone to their lairs just before daybreak, but the Hunters and their entourages will not be moving. I shift the door away from the opening, taking longer this time to avoid making the least noise. From my belly there is an uncomfortable grumble and I realize I didn’t eat all day yesterday. My mouth is also dry and parched. Quietly I call out for water, and this time I also call out for food. Sure enough the galaxy is still here with me – only seconds later two canisters float in through the open window. I unscrew the lid of the food container first. As expected it contains an unpleasant broth. This is slave gruel – the staple food of women on Aghara-Penthay. When I was first taken captive I would vomit back every mouthful, but hunger and desperation drove me to persist and I’ve grown used to eating it over the time I’ve been here. Everything a female needs nutritionally to survive is in here. Vitamins, carbs, proteins, and so on. There’s a mint flavor additive so our breath smells pleasing after we’ve consumed it. But to remind us of our perpetual inferiority they lace it with other things – often human excrement and more sperm. Men don’t kiss slaves on Aghara-Penthay – partly because we women apparently don’t deserve such a gesture of tenderness, but also because they don’t desi want anything transferred from our lips to theirs. For the regular slave population it is indian rumored that slave broth often contains other ingredients – drugs to make women compliant and docile; aphrodisiacs; drugs that mean our tongues deliver a tingling sensation when women perform oral sex; and occasionally things to make women high, or hallucinate terrible visions. Ryan led me round the house asking everyone if they wanted a selfie with me in it and just about everyone did; even the couple of guys who didn’t have their phones with them. Her head back on my shoulder giving me more room to get as much of her large nipples into my indian mouth as possible. I quickly pulled off my soggy shorts and placed them on the mat. Scared to move, Jacob froze. Pushing into her pussy, he felt his tension melt away as his cock sank deeper. cumming now!" Contiously the man pummeled her insides. "You can pay me wit some pussy." Rummaging in the cupboard beneath her sink, she found carpet cleaner and a sponge. As we started going down the slope to the beach I told one of the guys that we had to stop; telling him that this was where we normally took our clothes off. I expect each of you to learn the Scenarios, Roles and the Directions listed. Tom was always a gentleman and a nice guy. She just kept alternating between my titties with her biting and pulling actions. Hank knew immediately that this girl had not had many hugs in her short life. “Where is Elenore?” I asked. The whole thing came to a boil one time when I suggested getting desi a vibrator for me. I figured I could use it when he fucked me. At least I could get some satisfaction then too. She wondered what they were going to do when they came back. Me: Guys nowadays are cornballs. “She took off a few months ago. “Goddamn!” Justin grunted, his strokes growing harder. "You’d make a great Peacekeeper. I gently lick the hole before slowly taking more into my mouth. She was rubbing her clit so furiously that it was visibly red and swollen. I told Mark of my "party plans" and he was receptive of the idea right away. Again she slapped it. She starts to dance as the new song begins. “Dave! Jon told me to ring her and say OK. He went to work on his PC. “Stop drawing, son, and come down for breakfast.” CRACK! Tom went inside and I sat down and picked up my top. I hadn't really asked the too much, the surprise was kind of part of the adventure I guess, at least that's the way he made it seem. My AF started to rise and I reached for Ryan’s cock.