The slave writhes for her Master

“The slave writhes for her Master”
by CrazedCuntryRebel

*Note: The “Alien” tag is a bit of a stretch, I know, but… it’s sortta true.*

Part 1

It’s the fall season and a slightly colder day on the planet Harimai. My slaves work without complaint as my sons watch over them. I’m relaxing on my rocking chair with a glass of mixed whisky and orange-spice.

Night comes and it’s time to finish for the day. My sons heard the slaves to their stables, for the night. One of them turns on the “firestone” to amuse and entertain them. And a little later they will also bring them loaves of flavored-bread, beer, and various pastries for the night.

Like any other man I can get bored and I wish to entertain my mind, and my indoor house slaves will entertain me for that reason. A female, and like her male counterparts, not as bright. She stands at 5 feet and 6 inches tall, dark-tan skin, brown hair, brown eyes.

I bought her from a nursery at a large city while she was still very young. At the time, when I bought, her I simply had in mind for her to tend the small flower gardens surrounding my household. But as she grew up… she developed quite the lustful body.

She now does very little housework as per my instruction, and now she enjoys a life of indoor rest and luxury. She strolls inside the house wearing little more than a elaborate white loincloth covering her front and back of her hips, lightly gilded cuffs over her wrists and ankles, she fancies a pair of green sandals for her feet and honestly I didn’t mind buying them for her.
Upwards she wares a leather collar around her throat. Other than that she’s completely naked with her exposed breasts always out in display.

I approach her while she watches a children’s show on the large monitor in the entertainment-den. She sees me and sits herself upright facing me on her knees and holds out her breasts with her hands in presentation.
I reach down and gently grip one mound of soft flesh and gently pull her up with it.
“Come with me.” And she follows. I have plans tonight to push the body of this slave to the limits of pleasure and madness.

Part 2

No, I don’t take her down to a dark dungeon with fluttering-bats half a mile below the soil. I take her to the small building near the outdoor garden-bath. It’s fragrant during the summer and surrounded by songbirds as well. While it could be heated even during the winter.
But enough of the bath, back to this slave that I hold by the breast and guide into the building. The door opens and we enter, it closes.
We approach the center of the room when– *buzzz* My phone hums against my leg. The screen of the crystal display says it’s Robert.
“What is it?” I ask.

“A drone has a fever and is sweating. I’d like to take him to the city and have him checked.”

“Yes, do so. Take some money from the box, and go.” My slaves may never know what it is to be free as they would in there savage state from the outlands, but I do take care of them. Besides it’s expensive to outright replace a slave, especially if the sickness would be so easily cured. And a sick slave can affect other slaves, a much more costly and avoidable error.

I look back at my slave as she curiously looks at the device in my hand. Slightly confused hearing Robert’s voice but not acctually seeing him nearby. I don’t care to explain it to her. Not that she’d remember even If I did tell her.

I brought her to the center of the room and left her there. I walked to the wall and pressed a panel open and it slid open to either side. Inside were several small containers, each one no bigger than 4 inches high and 7 inches around. The lower shelf held black containers, the two middle shelves held dark green containers, then the top shelf brown ones. I pick a middle one.

Into a small cup I pour from the green container a grey-sludge substance. It’s not even an ounce being poured in, then I pour a common sweet syrup filling it near to the top. Then gave it to her. She knows the syrup after a quick sniff of the cup and greedily drinks it. Usually the syrup is given only as a reward for good behavior. She does not know what is ahead.

After a moment, she feels her heart lurch from inside, the cup drops from her hand then she collapses on the floor. She’s not dead, nor is she in any “real” danger.
I bring out my “book” and open it. Inside is my tablet and it displays the slave and the room as an iridescent holographic image above the glass surface. Interestingly it also shows beneath the room, and it’s contents below.

The image shows her body clearly and her represented glow is replaced by a shift of color to blue. I walk to her defenseless body and a simple tug removes the simple loincloth away.
I tap my foot against the floor and a simple stool emerges from the floor for me to sit on.

I tap my fingers against the tablet and drag my fingers up then make a circle around the displayed body. From the floor, a sludge creeps from below and begins capturing the slave. First a leg, then her two hands, then her second leg. I draw on the tablet again and it rights her on her hands and knees. I draw again a straight line then the sludge begins entering her mouth then moves up into her nasal passage and out her nostrils, rejoining at the mouth forming an unnatural head-collar.

I draw again on the tablet a line upwards and a circle motion then a press down. Her eyes become enslaved as it invades her skull to the brain. A tiny micro-slaver wraps around the ocular nerves and hijacks her sight. Now she only sees what I wish her to see.

I draw again, a motion downward, and with finality, the encircled motion.

I took a few moments for anything to be seen, but from her exposed sex, her clit emerged then engorged to a few inches.
I draw and tap on the image of her brain. Suddenly she very awake, and panics at her immobility, blindness, the intrusion of her nose, and agony of arousal all at the same time.

I draw again motions and now her clit surges in volume in size. It grows a few inches to three inches, the five more inches, and five more again. She moans a droned cry of agony, aroused to agony and helpless to do anything bound to organic shackles she cannot see nor fight against.

And it goes she wails a howl and unnatural moan as her clit lengthens twelve inches and steadily grows again and again.

I smirk and adjust my own swollen arousal. Her body helpless as her clit betrays its host body, it grows again and again, now four and a half feet long and not stopping. It grows again to six feet then eight feet. Eleven feet then fourteen, eighteen then twenty-three feet, twenty-eight, thirty-one then thirty-five feet. It stops.

She breaths like an animal having run a year long marathon and mated with 100 males an hour. Her breath is as ragged and as her brain cannot comprehend what it is she feels.

I draw again, and wait a moment. A minute passes then it happens. Like a snake from the ground her lengthened clit raises from the ground and moves as I draw on my tablet accordingly.
Her words are nothing but sounds from her open gaped mouth. A mouth ready for intrusion.

I draw in half circles, and the head of her own clit invades her mouth, and dives deep down her throat then reaching her stomach.
Could she form words, even if I released her now? I wonder…. nah.

I draw again and intruding organ coils into a ball filling the bulk of her stomach forming a noticeable bulge in her stomach seen from outside by me. Now… it presses further, It enters further past her stomach and into her small digestive-track, it worms and coils further along and down careful to not in anyway rupture the intestinal walls. Onward and forward, it reaches the large-intestine.

A quick red-flash from the tablet tells me she has passed out. Can’t have that. I tap my finger on her represented brain and awaken her. She groans aloud an unnatural sound.

Back to the fun. I motion for her own traitor to enlarge it’s girth and push onwards, and it obeys. Her clit swells to the girth of a bull and drives itself out reaching her anus.
I draw in motion, then the head of it begins slamming the inside of her asshole as if trying to get out.

I draw again, this time it fattens and presses against the exit stopping short of exiting her ass. She moans unnatural sounds that would frighten some if heard unknowingly.
I just notice her slit is dripping wet. Not just “she’s aroused” It’s as if someone left a garden hose inside running and a steady flow of fluid just keeps pouring out. Her body shines with sweat and reaks a sent of a certain foulness.

Finally I command her sensitive-traitor to force itself out. And like a worm from the moist earth, it emerges twenty inches out. An organ naturally not even a inch in length, writhing from her ass as a snake that wrestles on the ground.

I just sit there, admiring my work. I draw and gently let her down on her back and release her arms and legs. Her toes splay outwards, her fingers curl like claws, her eyes dart around searching for light from anywhere.

I walk over to her and give a firm swat on her rump. She writhes on the ground in a contorted fashion. Her exposed clit outside her stomach grinds and presses against the floor as she howls. She makes another sound that I can’t even call “moaning”

Oh, I know what will drive her crazy. I turn my attention back to her obscene “tail” and grab it quite firmly and drag her along the ground. The firmness of the grip and being dragged force sensations into her not meant to be felt. The mouth-sounds she’s making are more than just a little unsettling, I’ll admit.

I draw again a half circle then a square shape, and her body becomes stiff. I grip her “tail” again and lift raising the lower half of her body upright. Her body stays where I left it, defying the natural gravity of wanting to drop to the ground.
I handle her misshaped organ again then maneuver the tip into her sex-passage deeply. And there it stays.

On command I force it to fatten inside her. And the new noises from her mouth are just otherworldly.
It twitches and pulses inside and forces itself upwards pressing a second smaller bulge under her stomach.
Her body is dripping with fluid uncontrollably no matter what I do to her. Or even absent what I do to her, whatever.

I grab one of her tits again and just mashed and rolled the fun-flesh in my hands.
Well what now? I wonder…. What else can I do to amuse myself? … Ah, I know.

I walk over to a wall and push the wall-panel open to either side reveling a shallow cold-box and pull out a bottle of not-very expensive liquor, and return to her.
I lowered her to lay flat on her back and I draw a “V” on the tablet then a oval, then tap open her mouth and fix it in position.

The sludge reforms around her head and forms a funnel over her mouth, and it stretches the narrow spout down her throat in competition with her invaded organ stopping at the top of her stomach. I prop her body up at an angle, open the bottle, then pour it’s contents down her open mouth and unprotected throat.

I don’t advise my children to drink heavy. A little is okay, and an occasional festival amount of drink can be tolerated, but what this slave is taking in could keep her under a hangover for days.
A fifth, then half, then soon enough the entire bottle empties to the last drop. I tap then pinch on the tablet as I remove the bottle from her mouth.

I can not fathom what she feels, and I admit perhaps I ought to be thankful not to be in her position. Her body convulses, she feels as if she should eject the liquor, but no matter how she dry-heaves, nothing is coming out.

I readjust myself in my pants.

I sit there on my floor-stool for a few minutes just watching her dry-heave, moan, groan, writhe. I just watch, nothing else. She makes those slightly unnerving sounds, and then she makes those other unnatural sounds that sends a chalkboard scratch from my knees to the front of my chest.
She passes out again.

Well I think that enough fun for the night. I draw a final time. Her body heaves with a writhe, then her mutated molested clit deflates and begins a quick withdraw out of her sex then back into her ass, her intestines quiver as it withdraws into the stomach and uncoils its mass, it withdraws out the throat and out the mouth, and finally shrinks down back into her body between her legs where it rightfully belongs like any normal woman, slave or otherwise.

The sludge drips out of her from every possible orifice and rests back in the floor below.
I straddle her body and place the tablet above her face, observing the holographic representation of her brain. I rotate the image around, back and forth. Well… I don’t see anything broken. Nothing snapped.

Well I’ve held myself off more than long enough. I tap a rectangle on the floor and a table raises lifting her to hip height to myself. I manipulate her body again face down, and position her ass hanging off the edge.

My cock pushes into her ass, ahhh…. it’s the long-wait that makes it all the worth while. It’s a quick fuck and I don’t intend to drag it out any longer than I have too. Just a few more strokes, and I orgasm inside her, and sigh.

Must be dinner time. Perhaps a simple dish of potatoes and vegetables. I look at my tablet a final time and bring up a timeline highlighted in white. *tap-tap, swipe* She’ll be sore and hungover tomorrow but she won’t remember this room or what happened in it.

Part 3

I wake up the next morning damn near the crack of dawn, shower, dress, and join my family for breakfast. Johnathan makes his favorite meal for us all, and a few sweet-cakes for his little sisters.

The indoor house slaves also have breakfast at their table cereal with milk and a pastry. My slave from last night is also there, trying to eat her pastry with an obviously degree of difficulty. Eventually they finished and went their ways accordingly.

Well… another day of work.

End.

Constructive criticism always welcomed, and I hope you enjoyed this as I did writing it.

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