A Sex Slave To Alien Masters (Erotica)

These men came toward me looking predatory and hungry. My foot ached and I couldn’t run on it, so I hadn’t even made it to the window this time. Once again, I screamed for my Masters. The men grabbed me and held me as I struggled.

“It tries to escape; yet Damien and his brothers leave their valuable mark, fix it when it is injured, and feed it. This thing has no sense to be thankful,” one man sneered pulling my hair back cruelly.

I closed my eyes to avoid looking at them. That had worked before.

“Thank you, Master Damien,” I cried and one of the men slapped me hard across the face. I felt my lip split at the contact.

The other man wrapped my hair around his fist until I couldn’t move my head an inch. “You wear a mark but no collar, slave. If you speak to us we assume you think we are your Masters. Should we put our collar on you?” he asked.

I kept my eyes closed and my mouth shut tight. I wanted Master Christof back. I wanted Master Evan and his arrogance back. I prayed they would come and get me.

“Why not use it for its purpose brothers?” one of the men asked. “It is not currently owned and we have been curious about the appeal of an Earth slave.”

I screamed and tried to get away. My purpose was sex and I was not willing to have sex with these five strange men. I cried for my owners to stop these men. Of course, they couldn’t hear, but I couldn’t stop trying. My struggle was pointless.

The men laid me on the floor and pulled my arms and legs apart. I tried to scratch, kick, and bite; it made no difference. They restrained me like I wasn’t even trying.

My eyes should stay closed, but I had to know what they were doing. Looking wildly around I saw the man between my legs had his pants down at his knees. He was oiling his cock liberally.

I would not watch them rape me. I turned my head to the side and felt the hot tears leaking out. Willing my body to relax so I would not be hurt more, I gave up.

The man was laying on top of me now. His cock was pressed at the entrance to my womanhood. I felt his breath in my ear as he spoke.

“Were someone claiming you they would not allow this,” he said quietly. “A slave that is owned can only be used by its Masters.”

My own breath shuddered out and I opened my eyes watching the wall beside us. He was right. My owners, were they claiming me, would never allow this.

The man pressed against me as I whimpered on the floor with tears running down my face. He was hard and large. The bulbous head started to slip into me and he stilled his movements. Some part of me was still lucid enough to be grateful he didn’t just ram himself home in a single push. I wasn’t ready and, oil or not, I would probably tear.

A shadow passed on the floor from the direction of the window. I didn’t look to see who it was, it didn’t matter. When these men were done, the ones still outside would probably take a turn also. It would just give them reason to hurt me if I looked at them.

“Too bad,” the man on top of me said and pulled himself out.

I lay still and waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. The man just got up and I could hear him dressing. Suddenly my arms and legs were free, but I didn’t move. Something had made them stop.

The men were jovial as they left. They were busy talking about their next coupling. I was left, forgotten, on the floor.

When I heard the hum of the transport glide away I pulled my legs up and wrapped into a ball. I felt gross and violated. My owners never left me feeling this way.

I watched the dust dance in the light and thought about my circumstances. For all practical purposes I had been taken without my consent multiple times, but it never left me feeling like this. My owners were gentle and brought me pleasure. These men would have just used me on the hard dirty floor and left.

Everything would have been about them. The oil was probably more for their pleasure than my comfort. I remembered my old boyfriend with the Chevy complaining because it chafed him when I wasn’t wet enough. He’d brought Vaseline one time, because he hated the dryness. My owners were never like that.

Finally calmer, I took the chance to look around. The pitcher and the bowl were there again, but this time they had a mark I didn’t recognize. I was so thirsty, but something was wrong here.

If I didn’t recognize the logo then it wasn’t my owners feeding me. Master Damien had never said anything about that. I reasoned if I wasn’t supposed to speak to or look at other men, I probably wasn’t supposed to take gifts from them either. If I wanted to go back home, I had to prove I was loyal to my Warriors. Begrudgingly, I left the food and water to the flies.

By midmorning the insects had filled up the jug and the bowl. My parched tongue could ignore their taste if I just took a sip of the water, I kept thinking. That kind of idea was going to get me into trouble. The decision was already made, I would wait for my owners to provide for me.All content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

Desperate to distract myself, I set about recreating my owners’ mark on the floor. Perhaps showing them how much I liked their symbol would make them want to forgive me faster. Outside I found a piece of white stone that acted like chalk when pushed against the floor. Using the design on my belly and foot as guides I did my best to recreate it.

The stomping feet came out of nowhere and I hurriedly moved to huddle in the corner. I didn’t look up at who was there. Praying silently they wouldn’t want to use me, I just stayed very still.

The feet walked all around the mark I had made on the floor, left, and then came back. They never spoke to me or approached me. Sitting in the corner had worked! I finally found what they wanted me to do here.

When I dared to glance up the fly ridden jug and bowl were gone, but a fresh set had replaced them. When I was absolutely sure the transport was gone, I crept across the floor.

The large jug that now sat in the middle of the room had my owners’ mark on it. The water inside was clean and I gulped it down. A tiny cup sat beside the jug with that weird medicinal tasting stuff in it and I drank it quickly. A bowl of food sat beside the liquid and carried the same logo. I ate and drank my fill.

After I had all I could take there was still water left in the jug. I didn’t want the flies to get it. Apparently neither did the men who left it. A small plug was present and I used it to seal up the water. My owners were taking care of me.

I had nothing but time on my hands and I could only do one thing that pleased them. I filled the floor with their insignia. After my “chalk” was exhausted I decided to put my message outside. Limping around I cleared a large area in front of the building and used stones to delineate their mark.