A Sex Slavee To Alien Masters

“Many that do not keep slaves would find it interesting to watch a slave die. It would be too expensive to invest in a slave for the entertainment, but to use another’s.

My horrified expression stayed on my face and the men watched it.

“So you understand, slave? You know there is no escape. If you wish to survive, which I believe you do, you will Listen to us,” he said.

They spoke to me then, in a way I’d never been spoken to on this planet. They told me what I would be doing and explained no one would be watching me. If I did what they told me wrong, I would suffer.

My fake Masters were smart men. Their apartment was full of their studies and experiments. When I bled they would tell the men that cleaned they could not enter. They would say their work could not be disturbed by other men touching it. Me and my bleeding would be left in the apartment alone until I was done.

“If you are unable to care for yourself, we will reconsider the box, perhaps without the creams,” I was told.

“I will do as you ask, Masters,” I said solemnly.

The men retired and started to tinker on a small device they had been working on. I was ignored. Knowing it would anger them, I had to ask just one question.

“Masters, may I please ask a question?”

They were upset. If they hadn’t been afraid of more weakness, they’d put me in the box. I knew not to ask questions.

“Perhaps it will interest us,” one of them finally said and gave me permission to ask.

“why am I bleeding now and not before? Why can’t anyone know?” I asked.

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They were silent. I couldn’t tell if they were irritated or pondering the questions.

“We don’t know why you bleed,” they finally told me. “It isn’t normal for an Earth slave here. No one can know, because it happens to no other slave. If you were taken for study, Damien and his Brothers would no Longer pay us for our service. We have come to enjoy the money this endeavor has brought us.”

I thanked the men and knelt down in the room they were in. They continued to play with what they were doing, completely uninterested in me.

The day had been long and I was still weak from the box. Despite my best efforts I ended up leaning on the furniture, sound asleep.

It took time, but I got strong again. I think it took longer because I no longer swam. My fake Masters were quite clear that the mark on my stomach could not be exposed. They even bought a thicker panel for my front that further disguised it.

Instead of swimming I started walking the beach. The area we were allowed to roam, was quite large. I tried to run, but my Large breasts made that uncomfortable. Instead I played games on the beach and paced the area every afternoon.

Forty seven days later, my cycle came again and my Masters did just what they said they would. They left me alone in their rooms. For the first time in forever I was left to my own devices.

When they came at lunch the first day, I think they were surprised I was still there. They fed me and left me for the afternoon. Grateful they had not locked me in the box, I would have done anything to make

them happy. I picked up the apartment, made the bed, and did all the things I imagined the House Cleaners usually did.

The men were thrilled their area had been cleaned. They ordered me to clean every day I was left here alone. In a small closet I had never seen they showed me where the brushes and buckets were. That was what I could use to clean.

I was good at cleaning. At my Mom’s house I’d been the only one who cared if dishes sat in the sink or if the floor Looked nasty. The job of making the house livable had fallen to me. In the motel, it was my occupation. It was my job once again.

My owners realized I could save them money, as well as, make them money. They told the men they paid to clean up they no longer needed them. I would secretly be doing the cleaning.Material © of NôvelDrama.Org.