A Sex Slavee To Alien Masters

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. All content is © N0velDrama.Org.

“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.

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“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.