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Inside, I’m in anguish though. Who will resist such a fortune? It is enough credit for a bounty hunter to spend the rest of their life living in luxury. Every lowlife in the galaxy will girl be attracted by this fortune. And just for capturing me. Fortune seekers will already be on their way here. “I have to take you off active duty and put you under protection, Melena,” the general says. “You need to go into hiding somewhere secure until this blows over.” “No!” I protest. “That’s giving in to them, if you take me off service just because I’m female. The galaxy will believe that I’ve run away like a coward, and that would send a worse message than if I was taken.” “No it’s not worse, Melena,” the general presses, almost pleading. “Just think what the Slavers will do to you.” “I won’t give in to them,” I insist firmly, and then remember my rank, and say, “No way, Sir.” The general pauses, leaning forward to make a steeple with his forearms, elbows on the desk, and tries a new tack. I can see the deep furrows of age in his face. His skin is quite brown, tanned from leave spent on sunny planets. “Have you ever met a woman who’s been fully processed through Aghara-Penthay?” he asks. “Of course not,” I reply. Slaves are almost never recovered by the free planets of the Republic, once they’re taken. After capture, women disappear into the hidden places of the universe, the ass cellars, the dungeons, the pits and the cages of those who can afford them on the worlds that don’t respect law and order. While women might have equal rights in most of the Republic, possessing a vagina instead of a penis means a human becomes property as soon as she sets foot on Slaver territory. Occasionally women return from the station orbiting Aghara-Penthay, where they can enter and leave under the escort of a registered male “owner”, but I’ve never met a woman who has been down on the planet’s surface. Females only go there when they’re lost, and on their way to be processed and sold by the Slavers. “I think you should meet one, Melena. It would give you some perspective.” And without giving me time to reply the general leans forward and presses the intercom on his desk. “Ask Beyala to come in, please,” he says to someone. While we wait for this Beyala he offers me coffee, but I’m pissed with him and I refuse. I sit back petulantly in my chair and fold my arms under my chest. It is only a couple of minutes later when the girl enters. She’s wearing a standard ship jumpsuit, the navy blue that designates a civilian, but despite her entirely generic attire I can tell immediately what she once was, a slave of Aghara-Penthay, because Beyala has the mark. The slave mark – an indelible sign that a woman has been processed on the surface japanese of that vile planet. Beyala’s imprint reminds me of dark make-up, eyeliner or perhaps a tattoo, swirling patterns that emerge from the edge of her right eye to sexy decorate the right side of her face. The spiral design is the same one that has been used by the Slavers for centuries, and is supposed to remind the observer of the letter that starts the word ‘slave’ in the ancient galactic universal script. Even though it’s a barbaric thing to inflict I must admit that adorning Beyala, it adds to the beauty of an already exceptionally striking woman. Unlike some marks and brands which owners apply to the thigh or the shoulder blade, Aghara-Penthay’s Slavers choose to mark the girl’s face, because for the rest of her life unless she Brunette veils herself it will be almost impossible to disguise. With each person she meets, their eyes will track to the mark before they go anywhere else, reminding the girl and everyone else constantly of what she is. I realize I’m being rude and staring, and yet I notice Beyala is watching me with almost as much interest as I’m studying her. Embarrassed, I look away, down at the desk. “Eight days ago we seized the heavily-armed ship of one Kazar, a drug trafficker and a thoroughly nasty piece of work,” says the general. “I remember the mission,” I reply. Her thoughts drifted back to last night’s unexpected threesome and wondered what prompted it. I'm im ass in pain, the kinda pain that pleasures. “Yeah, yeah,” she waved me off. “Well, damn…..I’m gonna miss you being free. He pumps three more pumps and then explodes deep inside of me. He pulls my hips down girl so it hits my womb and it opens up and accepts his cum. It japanese was a couple of seconds before he said yes. Her thighs had pushed my hands up to touch her pussy. All Brunette he talked about was how sexy you are. She rolled over away from him. With that he pulled me off his cock and slid down sexy the table. I've realized that I'm just as bad as those jocks. “Give us a good suck, boy.” The old man said. My dick twitched as I realized my girlfriend was nursing on the teacher's clit. Mindy began to get up but realized Mike Tobin a classmate was passing by looking for his sister who also had gymnastics. Though it was thick and slimy, much salty than a human.