A Quiet Night Of You, Me And My johnson

Women can be turned lesbian; or mute; or submissive; or be programmed to be aroused by enduring torture or the wearing of restraints. Even the women participating in the Rape Run are implanted, although as those ten are not yet full slaves, some of the functions are left dormant until after the competition is over. There would be no sport in hunting a female who could easily be found with a tracker. And where would be the victory in capturing a woman who would come the moment you called her? “Beyala’s implant makes her very vulnerable to exploitation,” the general tells me, as if I, a woman, wouldn’t already know the implications of suffering the process. “The fleet will have to place here somewhere she can be protected by those merciful to her condition, and she will need assistance for the rest of her life.” The look I flash him is hard, asian for I know exactly why the general is showing Beyala to me. It’s a crude attempt at manipulation. This ruined female before me is a living example of the fate that awaits me if I fall into the Slavers’ hands. He expects me to go meekly into protection as soon as he shows me how her whole future has been shattered by one microchip. His ploy works, in that the horror I’m meant to feel at the idea of living her life is so intense, it’s as if someone has gripped my heart. And yet the sympathy I feel for her, the sisterly comradeship, is also intense. This is why Hardcore I joined the space fleet, to help put an end to such barbarity. “I’m so sorry for what they’ve done to you,” I tell her with great tenderness. “Your sympathy for me amateur is misdirected,” Beyala surprises me by interrupting, her answer delivered in a brusque, dismissive tone. I’d expected her voice to be compliant, like a slave, but she sounds cold, almost authoritarian. I soon learn why. “My implant prevents me feeling any unhappiness at my situation. Rather, I rejoice in serving men. So do not pity me. Furthermore the particular configuration of my chip programs pov me to feel masochistic urges around men – I truly want them to hurt me - but sexually sadistic cravings towards all other women. So your sympathy, to me, sounds only like an expression of your own weakness, and as it would arouse me to see you suffer, I recommend you do not show such vulnerability.” I understand now why she has been staring at me so intently. She’s enjoying my fear of the Slavers. Floundering tits for something to say, I try to break the sudden tension in the room. “Do you feel aware of the implant?” I can’t help asking from morbid curiosity. Beyala looks contemptuously at me, and snorts with derision. Gods, she wants to hurt me so much she’ll even try with words. Is the control over her that bad? And I do flinch, stung by such animosity from a complete stranger. “I’m asking the question,” the general interrupts gently, taking control. “Answer me please, Beyala,” Compelled now to reply, she immediately does. “I know these instincts that make me such a slave once were not my own, Sir,” she says to him, changing back from hostility to humility so immediately it’s as though someone flipped a switch, “and yet today they feel so deeply part of my identity it’s as if they’ve always been there. In that sense I’m not aware of the implant at all.” I blushed alone, imagining my life will change after this that I will be marrying you. I don't see how a sword can hope to defeat the godling." Lost my cherry.” Make me love you in ways I probably shouldn't." I took the battery out to make sure the defective one was off and the next forfeit was a spanking.” "What's that?" When she came she must have woken the neighbours. Ravi on watching her lively mounds felt a warm feeling creep inside his body and before Hardcore it could pov engulf him, Mala was out of his vision. You don't amateur need anyone else." I cum with a tits frustrated groan, which is accompanied with a quick sense of asian shame.