A Sex Slave To Alien Masters (Erotica)

My heart was pounding in my chest as be passed through the courtyard and up a wide set of steps. We entered into an opulent living area with a large fire burning. Four mammoth graying men sat around the fire and glanced up when we came in.

“What was the commotion, brother?” one of them asked glancing at me.

I looked curiously at him and then cursed myself. Master Damien would be so angry if he knew I had looked at these other men.

The General spoke when he saw me look down. “My brothers are safe to look at and speak to, slave. We are Master of everything in this compound,” he said leaving the room.

When he returned he told the other men what had happened in the bathhouse. They chuckled and said it was about time. Apparently Andre had been trying to pick a fight with Master Damien for ages.

“Perhaps this will encourage the Administrators to finally take care of this,” one man said. “They cause trouble in the compound. The other men are agitated. This cannot be left to continue.”

Nobody seemed to notice me standing and dripping on their floor. For safety’s sake I continued to examine the tile under my feet.

“Hersham,” the General addressed one of the men in the room, “you know the human slave’s needs. You were always attentive to those lessons, take care of this before Damien comes.”

I jumped when one of the men wrapped me in a soft cloth and led me into the sitting room. In front of the fire, he dried me completely with soft pats. The other men made a sound of disapproval when he dried the blood from inside my thighs. The General watched his brother impassively from the side.

The large man that had me sitting on his lap must be Hersham. He had a small tub of cream like the one my Masters used. He covered my neck in the stuff, rubbing it in to the sore spots until they didn’t hurt.

I was bruised everywhere and sought not to flinch as this man touched me. Equal attention was paid to each breast and each bruise. Using a hand he opened my legs and put the cream everywhere ‘down there’ including inside me. By the end of his treatment, I was blushing profusely.

“I wonder how Andre is faring?” one of them asked. “An enraged Damien is a sight to see, much like you as a young Warrior,” he said nodding to the General.

“Perhaps we should go take a look,” the General said rising from his chair and moving to the other side of the room. He opened up a curtain and let out a chuckle.

“Ah, would you like to see your Warriors in action, slave?” he asked me.

I nodded my head and felt drawn to the window. Peering out from around the General’s shoulder, it took a minute for the scene to register.Exclusive content © by Nô(v)el/Dr/ama.Org.

Master Damien was below in a yard I’d never seen before. He was beating what looked like a purple and red pulp into the ground. When I realized all the red was blood I lurched back from the window. The man named Andre was unrecognizable. I swore to myself never to make Master Damien angry again.

All the men were at the window now, commenting on the end of the fight.

“Brother, unless you want Andre dead, you should stop this,” one of them said seriously.

I backed into the sitting room as the General called down into the courtyard. I found a kneeling place and sank into it gratefully. My stomach wasn’t weak, but I did feel queasy. I wasn’t used to seeing quite that much violence.

One of the men noticed me and came back with a small jug. He tilted it to my lips and told me to take a drink. I recognized the root drink and was glad for it’s relaxing effect. As a took a second larger gulp, I felt it completely wash over me. I wondered absently when I would go home and if my Warriors would be angry with me.

The General and his brothers sat and talked around the fire. It was starting to get late and I was sleepy, especially so thanks to the root drink. I found myself less kneeling and more sitting, leaning on the General. He didn’t seem in the least perturbed by my position. He lightly stroked my hair and my back.

“This earth slave is definitely sensitive to the drink. I will have to let Damien know,” he said laughing. It was a strange sound out of such a stern man.

I tried to lift my head when I heard a light rapping at the door, but couldn’t quite manage. I was stunned to find Master Damien’s face in mine a moment later. He and the General spoke before Master Damien lifted me up and handed me to Master Evan.

It felt like I was floating across the courtyard. I played with a strand of Master Evan’s long hair before he snatched it away. The next thing I knew I was in bed. Christof lay behind me and was soothingly stroking my back. Master Damien’s angry countenance was in front of me. It was really confusing.

“I’m sorry, Master Damien,” I tried to say to him, but he just looked at me quizzically.

“Ciara, what language are you speaking?” he asked me.

I shrugged and tried to answer him. His half amused, half angry face was the last thing I saw that night.

“Ciara!” I heard someone shout and I opened my eyes to peer at him. For a moment I didn’t recognize who it was and thought I was dreaming.

“Who are you?” I managed to get out between dry lips.

The blue eyed man looked stunned and left the room without another word. It took a minute for everything to come back to me. By the time it did Master Damien was stalking in looking very concerned. I shuffled out of the bed and fell to my knees at the edge of it. About that time the nausea hit and I stumbled out running for the bathroom. I barely made it.

“Call the healer,” I heard Master Damien say from the main room.

The floor of the bathroom was cool, so it was a good place to lie. Master Kein picked me up off of it and the nausea hit again. He was nice enough to hold my hair back this time.

I must have smelled something awful because they turned on the shower and washed me. The Healers came in and saw me in the bathroom. They looked me over and gave Master Damien a whole bag of things. I threw up again just thinking about what might be in the bag.

The men fed me bits of things from the bag intermittently. It tasted like dried bits of root, but whatever it was settled my stomach. Twice, I tried to sleep on the cool floor in the bathroom, but they wouldn’t let me.

A basin was set beside the bed and I was told to lay on the bed. Small sips of cool liquid were poured into my mouth all day. I accepted their ministrations and tried not to whine. They seemed to be doing what the healer had told them to do, but caring for an invalid was not what they usually did.

This wasn’t how I expected to be treated. It gave credence to their words that my health was important to them. I was struck with how resolutely they stuck to their ideals.

Master Bane was sitting with me, watching me rest. He looked bored beyond belief. My stomach was finally still and I was awake. I wanted to get up, but Master Damien had said no. Now he came to sit on the bed beside me and feed me more of the stuff from the bag. It was gross, but I took it willingly.

“Ciara, we forbid you to have root drink. Do you understand me?” he asked sternly.

“Yes, Master Damien, but what if it’s the General or his brothers offering?” I asked him.

He sighed, “Must you always ask questions? The answer is the same. We forbade you to have it. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Master Damien. May I get out of bed now? I feel much better,” I said hoping I could do something. I was starting to get stir crazy.

“Supposed to be a good chuke game starting in the arena,” Master Bane said absently.

Master Damien looked at me like he didn’t quite trust me. “I will not have the dishonor of a sick slave hanging over us,” he said.

By the look on his face he really wanted to go to the game. I swore I was well and promised I would call him if I started to feel ill. My commentary did not faze him. Master Evan said they could set me close to the game and check on me frequently. Finally, Master Damien allowed us to go. I was placed into my flowing gauzy fabric and followed them out the door to the field.

“You are not to get up and cheer for us,” Master Damien commanded after they set up the area I would stay in. “You will kneel or sit and you may clap your hands together.”

“Yes, Master Damien,” I answered as I took my place.

When the other girls got there they were dying to know what happened after we left the bathing hall last night, but we couldn’t talk quite as freely this time. The place Master Damien had put us was a lot closer to the field. Warriors kept coming into our area to lounge with their slaves.

I cringed when a male hand ran down my arm. “Warmer than you Fuji,” the man commented.

I started to tremble fearing it was going to be another experience like the bath house. Screaming like a baby would probably be unacceptable, so I sat quietly and waited.