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The possibility that Gara might be dead, or the chance that rather than fight to the end she might let herself be debased and degraded, a plaything to those monsters. Human women are weak, but not Gara. She’d know her career, her life, her chance of breeding would be over if she were made transvestites slave. But then how do I explain the dreams? The stabbing pain… Could that have been? A man…? Not wounded… Oh Gods, no! Don’t let me imagine her like that. No! I must say something, hidden hotel sex gay crossdress anything. Grasping for a question I blurt out: “Riyena. How do you know they have Riyena? How do you know they have any of them? Maybe they all perished.” Silently Red Duchess hands me a data pad. Through the blur of my free-flowing tears I look down at the screen to see it shows an advertisement. The woman in the image I do not recognize. She’s a youthful brunette with the pale skin and mottling typical of our two species. On the side of her face, overwriting the creamy silk of pale skin and brown mottling is a swirling mark like a tattoo. I know enough of Aghara-Penthay to recognize it – the slave mark that the Slavers permanently tattoo on all their captive women, as a sign of quality. She’s pretty, although in my biased view not as attractive as Gara. The woman’s breasts are small, and her hips are not so wide in proportion to her waist. Her vulva is entirely hairless. Its pale pink lips are fat and rounded, almost submerging the vertical slit. She’s less strongly built than the females on our world. A Harken woman. This female is stark naked, which is does not shock me. Gaianesian women are comfortable being nude in front of each other. What makes me gasp is her pose, to see a woman with the markings of our species on her knees and holding her thighs open, as though she needs to humbly plead for sexual attention. A sex traitor! A whore! That’s why my first reaction to the picture is, “And this submissive thing thought my sister was good enough for her?” “Don’t judge her too harshly,” Red Duchess says firmly. “The Slavers of Aghara-Penthay implant a microchip into the brainstem of captive women. It disrupts the signals relating to willpower, meaning an implanted female is compelled to follow orders, as long as the order is given by a man. They only had to ask her to pose that way and she would have obeyed.” I’ve heard that before, but my beliefs are too ingrained to accept that some part of her nature must have already been inclined to submission. Otherwise how could a woman look so unashamed, displaying her sex like that? I’m looking at a female debasing herself to please men… Possession of this image could get someone into trouble on Gaianesia. I would throw the revolting filth away in disgust, were I not obliged to pay attention to the writing, which is the common galactic script. “Riyena, 25, from Harka-Ringworld,” I say aloud. “Fifty credits for a session, slave also for permanent sale by auction galactic date 10:13:4452. Enquires to the Palace of Roses, Mezzanine Level, Aghara-Penthay Orbital Trading anal crossdress Station.” A footnote adds, “Bring your own slave. See her abused as the plaything of this woman hater.” “Woman hater?” I ask. “I thought you said Riyena was a lesbian. Gara would never be intimate with a misogynist.” “The brain implants can do more than force women to obey” White Queen explains. Sam slowly slid her way down the bed to the edge and stood up on wobbly legs, juices still flowing out of her pussy and down her legs. I had expected nothing else. “Yes,” Mrs. Alberts moaned. He said. She continued to stroke slowly, and I was already on the edge. One of the guys stepped forward and with one anal crossdress hand lifted my arms off my tits; and with the other he pressed down on my right nipple. I know. hidden hotel sex gay crossdress I usually go down transvestites during the day and do a few hand jobs or maybe a quick fuck or two, or three. But it always had been that ass. Divya says. Years passed without any contact between my father and grandfather. “Definitely!” she says taking it from me and then she puts it to my lips. With me laying on my back on the bed, she moved up to lay on top of me with the front of my undershirt pulled up so that her titties would be laying on my bare skin.


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I hear a male lezdom japanese lezdom bondage voice – loud and exuberant, close by enough to make me start. Perhaps a young man excited to be in his first year accompanying a Hunter. The sound comes from just outside the building and there is no time to think. With a soldier’s instinctive reactions I fall to the ground at the edge of the pit. Threading my fingers into one of the eyelets I swing my body over the edge, until I’m hanging down into the hole by my fingers. The elastic sheet is folded back to let me enter, so I have to risk releasing one hand and painfully suspending my whole weight from the other arm, so I can throw the cover into place. And then, dangling once again from two sets of fingers, I wait. My front is against the rock wall, breasts squashing stone like airbags. It’s excruciatingly uncomfortable – my fingers ache after only seconds, and it feels like my shoulders are dislocating. It’s a strain not to let go, and the exertion means I have to breathe quickly. I focus my thoughts on trying to control the noise. There is movement above me. Hunters are in the room. I hear men, many men. Booted feet pause close to the rim of the pit. “Someone has been here recently, Hunter,” a deferential male voice reports from only feet away. “She found the trap.” It will be obvious from the disturbed dust that a Runner was here, but I mature lezdom am preying they won’t check inside the pit. A girl who was tricked and is standing at the bottom would hardly be able to replace the cover. “Clever cunt, not to fall in,” someone replies. This person I recognize, and the voice chills my bones. Jackran-ad-aktar, the dreaded alien, has non-human vocal chords that make his voice sound like a deep husky growl. “Well, she can’t have got far,” the alien continues. “They’ve only been Running for an hour. Spread out and search the area.” “Hunter.” The first man replies in acknowledgement. There is the sound of someone moving away. I’m starting to lose feeling in my hands, so I risk trying to shift the grip of my fingers and keep the circulation going. One hand slips and I almost drop, and have to lunge for the metal hoop. The strain makes me gasp, and that triggers terror like I’ve never felt before. Is he still there? Please, let him have gone. God help me if he heard, and I’m caught by Jackran-ad-aktar. I hang as silently as I can, in spite of the growing pain in my arms and shoulders. Someone is certainly moving up there in the warehouse, but not towards the pit. The rusted iron parts are being kicked around, in much the same way I was doing only minutes earlier. The sounds seem to get further away, and then there is silence. Has he really gone? Or is this entertainment – the alien waiting with amusement for me to emerge from my hiding place? It feels like an eternity that I hang there. By that time my upper body is in an agony like being tortured. Only when I am sure that if I wait any longer my arms will give out and I’ll fall into the pit do I start to pull myself back up. I barely manage, with my arms weakened from straining earlier against the yoke, as well as this afternoon’s stretching. Luckily years of working out with the Republic Fleet has maintained my stamina. At last my upper body is over the lip of the pit, and I groan with relief. I’m out of the hole and no-one is here. � Figuring that Clara may lezdom bondage not be up mature lezdom for a modern shower quite yet. Yet her ability to provide pleasure was only part of her training. Jill frankly under the circumstances I think you should have several very strong drinks and go to his room. We sit there for moment so she could get used to it. But that won’t happen until you’re a little older. My flesh squeezed around her touch. "Why is it all hard?" she asked now looking me in the eyes with her ass He started lightly kissing her neck, then moved to her lips. Thankfully, he had the decency not to draw any further attention to what he had seen. I could smell japanese lezdom the aroma of sex (male and female) on them before they had a shower. A few seconds later I see Connie, then Rach, then Sue come into the bedroom. “Morning Arthur. Two minutes later she was back having taken her bikini top off.

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