A Sex Slave To Alien Masters (Erotica)

He didn’t quite know what urged him to teach her that, but sensed that she wanted to feel closer to him just then. Now she knew something that no one else in the world could match, except perhaps Janette. Although he privately suspected that if he offered Janette a fist-bump she’d probably just roll her eyes at him and call him a dork.

“Why the fuck am I always the last one to know anything around here!?” Janette yelled from outside the tent, as if he’d summoned her with a thought.

“That sounds like I’m in for a bollocking. If there’s nothing else, do you mind stepping out for a while? I doubt it’ll be pretty to watch.”

“I enjoy watching you get into trouble, master. You’re exceptionally talented at it.”

That got a genuine belly laugh from him before he stood up and offered her his hands. She took them rather formally and allowed herself to be led to her feet. Then he leaned in and planted a chaste kiss on her brow.

“Thanks for looking out for me, Talina. I’ll see you later.”

With that, he released her hands. She stood still for a moment longer, and there was a brief moment when she looked rather conflicted about something. Then she gave him a little bow and departed just before Janette stormed in like a fiery angel, followed by Valise and Algra.

“You are in big trouble, buddy!” Janette bore down upon him with a dangerous amount of finger-wagging.

He braced himself for a scolding, whilst privately muttering to himself under his breath.

“I suppose it’s nice to know I’m talented at something.”

– – – – –This belongs © NôvelDra/ma.Org.

The telling-off from the beautiful redhead continued through Valise’s examination. It was quite the punishment to pretend not to be enjoying himself. Valise had insisted on sitting in front of him with her fingers resting upon his temples and his head tilted at just such an angle that happened to put her boobs right in front of his eyes. The usual flimsy, white gown she was wearing had a slight degree of transparency to it. Out in the sun, it carried a reflective glow that kept her modest. That modesty lessened considerably when she stepped into the tent and the outline of her figure became unmistakable. With such a close-up view, he could see the soft mounds and the darker pink of the tips. He watched as those tips visibly hardened before his eyes, and sensed that she was privately enjoying herself as much as she was in giving him a show.

After they had finished the examination and Janette finally ran out of steam, Valise departed and he spent the night vigorously apologising to both his mate and his girlfriend. They were both still moderately pissed off with him, and they discovered that angry sex was good sex.

When dawn broke on the next day, he was already awake and had visited Fiona and Lydia to let the two beautiful women bathe him with their water, sponges and soap. As usual, those particular instruments of hygiene were often joined in by stroking hands and loving tongues before too long. Still, he made it to the proving grounds on time in his new pants. After their display in the past proving fight, The Runts had agreed to return to their main training hours there rather than in their own private glade. Gregory plucked up some of the simple pieces of armour from the racks and settled them in place before running off to find Wrut. He always used the one-armed orc as a marker when he needed to find the other pack in a crowd. The guy was fucking huge, and his notable lack of a limb made him particularly easy to spot.

After seeing Wrut, he waved and hurried over to the training circle that The Runts had inhabited. Upon his approach, he felt a disturbing sinking feeling in his chest. It seemed that Wrut had foregone his new shield in favour of the huge training club he’d used before. Growing closer to the pack, he soon saw that the others had similarly regressed to their old heavy clubs.

He watched Nullik charge at Frun with his unbalanced twin clubs and lunge at the stout orc. Frun easily smacked the attack out of the air with his single long-club and bopped an unbalanced Nullik on the forehead as he overdrew his attack. Frelki followed this example with a singe-club attack on Wrut that the big orc deftly dodged and poked her out of his way as if swatting at a fly. Both the larger orcs glanced over to each other, knowing that they could have done much worse to their friends if they’d been given the opportunity.

“Again!” Ulf’s voice carried over Nullik’s grumbling.

“Hey guys, what’s going on?” Gregory asked, as peaceably as he could manage.

Ulf turned to regard him with an uncharacteristically cold stare.

“We are at practice. Pick a weapon from the rack.” He gestured to the familiar and disheartening rack of clubs used by the orc pups.

“Er, ok. Where are the weapons I gave you?”

“Oh, we can’t have those.” Nullik’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. “When we have those, we win! And Ulf can’t abide that sort of behaviour.”

Ulf quickly turned and marched toward Nullik who lifted his chin up to meet his alpha’s gaze. The blow came immediately and connected with a loud smack across Nullik’s cheek. He stumbled backward, lifting his hands to the wounded area and clearly seeming stunned by the action.

“You are weak,” said Ulf “We are all weak. I have been weak for far too long. Today, we shall present ourselves as orcs. No more foolishness.”

“Hey, man. What the hell?” Gregory stepped forward to place himself between Ulf and Nullik. “I’ve seen you train just as well these past few weeks. You believed in it just as much as the rest of us.”

Rage bristled behind Ulf’s gaze as he regarded Gregory.

“You would not understand. You are human.”

“Yeah, and you didn’t call me out by my race before either. What the fuck happened, Ulf? Is this about Ulla?”

Ulf tried to strike out at him with his club, but Gregory was ready for the attack. He’d always felt more comfortable fighting bare handed than with any weapon. The heavy swing aimed for his ribs was easily avoided by stepping back, and he could have recovered much faster than Ulf to plant a blow of his own on the side of the orc’s head. Instead, he restrained himself and merely stepped back to reclaim the ground he’d lost.

“Forgive me, alpha. I’ll go get a more suitable weapon.” Gregory kept his tone level despite his own anger boiling hot just beneath the surface.

The rest of the pack watched him as he turned his back on Ulf to go and claim a short-club from the racks and return to present himself in the classic fashion. It was an efficient way to diffuse the situation, for although Ulf was clearly not playing ball anymore, he wasn’t the type to strike someone from behind.

Giving Ulf no more excuses for violence, but maintaining an eerie sort of silence, Gregory continued the morning training session with The Runts. It went about as well as it had always done before they had moved their training to the glade. The overweighed weapons practically rendered Frelki and Nullik as ornamental accessories for all the assistance they could provide. Gregory found plentiful opportunities to attack Wrut whilst sparring with the big orc, as once again he had virtually no means of defending himself whilst carrying the giant club in his one hand.