Violetta

Who’d have amateur thought its absence would be a bad thing for me and not a good one – a signal that far worse things are coming? They’ve strapped me into a chair – the wide foot stirrups making it much like the gynecological ones used at home for the breeding insemination, only with those there were no restrains to secure the sitter. Today I’m as good as paralyzed. I’ve been buckled into place at my wrist and ankle. A heavy belt around my waist pins me back against the seat. There are two more bracelets encircling my knees to keep my thighs apart - as though my genitals weren’t already exposed and defenseless enough. A band across my forehead keeps my skull back against the padded rest. I saw the small hole I saw in the headrest while they buckled me down. I know what it’s for, that hole, as I’ve already seen the matching tool among the medical paraphernalia on the counter. That’s where the implanter gun goes. The medic about to end the life I know is a young fellow with a neatly trimmed beard. For a moment when I walked in I thought he was going to be more professional than the other Slavers, but when Gara was led into the room behind me he said, “Twins… Nice!” and I knew he was as heartless, and Brunette male, as the rest of them. Gara and I had five minutes whispered conversation last night and we’d agreed to try and break away and end ourselves during the walk to processing, but that too we were denied. Klink arrived in our cell with a large escort of Slaver guards. There wasn’t the least chance of escape. “Gaianesians,” Klink tells the blowjob doctor once I’m safely secured, although it’s probably unnecessary to state my species - my markings have returned during the night. I saw my haggard sorry reflection in the surgery mirror and also noted the first signs of their color beginning to shift. This catastrophe shocked me less than I would have believed. I suppose that’s because it doesn’t matter now if I’m shamed in the eyes of my own people or not. It’s not as though I’ll ever return to my home. “Gaianesian man haters,” the doctor smiles. “Let’s give them hell.” “Absolutely,” smiles Klink. “And let’s start that hell making sure they never lose their revulsion for us. I want them to be psychologically repelled by men, but have to follow our orders anyway.” “That’s no problem,” says the doctor, typing configurations into a data pad. “But just to make things even more unbearable,” continues Klink, “I want them mentally repelled, but physically addicted to the cocks they hate so much. You know - disgusted by dicks but need them inside anyway.” Divesting the dead wood in the company and acquiring companies blowjob that are supremely undervalued. "Less!" “I want to show you amateur how much I love you. It was an attack only on their minds, yet the fear it invoked ripped through their bodies. “Much better,” he smirked and looked down on me. David looked and smiled, lifted Brunette me up into a sitting position. His head was clean shaven and because he competed as a bodybuilder, his entire body was hairless.