A Sex Slavee To Alien Masters

Laying beneath the green blankets I fell quickly to sleep. I dreamed of Master Damien and his Brothers all night Long.

The next morning one of the men woke me. I asked him his name and he told me to call him and all his Brothers ‘Master’. Evidently, I would not be talking to them much. The man that woke me took me to the shower and cleaned me completely.

My first shower with this new Master was practical. The man used the sponge to clean most of my body. When it came to the sensitive bits between my legs he used his fingers. I flinched and backed away inadvertently. This new Master just grabbed my hip and held me still as he cleaned every nook and fold. He was almost disinterested in the task. Content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

I dreaded the plug. It was so degrading to be cleaned and prepared that way. I had no control over such a personal thing. It was awful.

This new Masters didn’t really seem bothered either way. He did each step with clinical detachment. Once they were done he stood me up and moved right to the silky rub.

When Master Evan had rubbed me with the purple goo, he always lingered on the places I Liked. It was a morning massage as much as a skin treatment. This new man made no such alterations. It was rubbed in and then he was done.

“Come,” he ordered walking out of the bathing room, “it is time to eat, slave.”

A N G E L A ‘s L I B R A R Y

At breakfast the man across from me held up his bowl and asked me what I called it in my first Language. I told him and he repeated the word until he could say it. In between bites, I was instructed

to teach them the names of all the things around us. It was a strange way to spend the morning meal, but it became my norm.

Time dragged on and it soon became obvious these men did not want a sex slave. They cleaned me and kept the annoying thing in my bottom, but otherwise did not touch me. I was glad, but I couldn’t help but find it odd.

The first few days I had dreaded going back to my new owners’ apartment at night. I waited for them to descend on my body the way Master Damien and his Brothers had. At some point I was certain they would use me. It never happened.

These men had no interest in my physical self, other than it was cleaned and fed. They made me tell them about Earth. These Masters wanted information.

Everyday some aspect of life on Earth was explored. They made me relive moments from the most mundane to the most exciting. I spent seven day cycles explaining the inside of a supermarket. It was like they wanted to be know my planet inside out.

For the first time in months I had to speak English. They ordered me to teach them the entire language. I was threatened that if they spoke it to another Earth slave and I had lied, they would have me whipped. I did the best I could.

When I wasn’t teaching my new owners, they acted like I wasn’t present.

If they weren’t engaging in their Earth hobby, they had plenty to keep them busy. They were always doing something. Often I found myself sitting and watching their family like I was merely a piece of the furniture. I was useful when they wanted me to be and nonexistent when they had better things to do.

When they weren’t talking to me, I was not to interrupt them. I learned that very quickly. Their conversations with one another were complicated and I was chastised if I interjected. The truth, I soon

realized, was they only really enjoyed talking with one another.

My owners did things in their spare time Like take apart transport pads in the sitting area. They enjoyed difficult time consuming tasks and I was never asked to participate. Unless they were asking about Earth, they didn’t speak to me. For me, it was a Lonely existence.

At home there wasn’t ever a visiting slave to speak to. Unlike Master Damien and his Brothers, who spoke to almost everyone, these new men had few friends in the compound. Warriors would sometimes come by to ask a question, but they never stayed long. My owners seemed to talk down to almost everyone and most other men seemed glad to leave their presence.

Sometimes, as the jovial men walked off discussing the chuke game they were late to, I wanted to go with them. I missed walking around the compound with my owners and watching them play. Actually, I missed doing almost everything.

Since I wasn’t really expected to do anything most of the time, I picked up a hobby. With my owner’s permission Rose taught me to sew and knit. My skills quickly equalled hers, because I had Limitless time to practice.

The men actually seemed happy I was doing something and bought Limited supplies for me. They liked it when I sewed things with complicated designs. When I was able to stitch their symbol onto their shirts they were ecstatic. It was the first and only time I ever really pleased them.

Most of the time, I was an annoyance to my owners. Their questions were so complicated. I frequently could not adequately answer them, so they punished me by making me sleep in the little box in the wall.

Eventually, they figured out I just didn’t know how everything worked on my home world.