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Annoyed, the aliens wrap something cold around my neck and click it shut. A split second later, pain flares through my body, all of my nerve endings firing up at once. I scream until I run out of breath, then silently writhe in the restraints until the alien lowers his remote.
Is this what they’ve been doing to the other creatures in the cells? How fucking barbaric!
I open my mouth to give them a piece of my mind, then snap it shut at the alien’s warning glare. Right. I’m being stupid. I’m supposed to be quiet and invisible. Too bad that just isn’t me. Too often, my big mouth and impulsive nature have gotten me into trouble and I fear it won’t be much better here.
The aliens I’ve assumed to be guards step out of the room, replaced by another gray alien. This one’s easily recognizable thanks to a white lab coat covering his overalls.
I shudder in fear. A lab coat can’t mean anything good.
Perhaps it’s not a lab coat, I try to soothe myself. Perhaps it’s the alien version of a bathrobe?
The alien grabs a device from a nearby table, bringing it to my arm. A sudden sharp flare of pain has me crying out in shock.
Nope, not a bathrobe. He’s definitely wearing a lab coat. I’m in the hands of a mad alien scientist with no way to defend myself or communicate with him. Talk about fucked-up! I can honestly say that I definitely hate Mondays more than that stupid orange cartoon cat!
Another scientist joins the first one, waving a strange scanner over me while casually chatting to his colleague. I don’t know what he’s doing, but at least it doesn’t hurt, so I’ll take it.
I try very hard not to think about what kinds of radiation this thing might be emitting. I might not have finished high school, but I know that radiation is bad for humans. Isn’t that why the X-ray techs always hide in the other room while you’re getting scanned?
The first device beeps. The alien sets it down and grabs another one, talking the entire time. The other scientist appears to be busy taking notes, typing them into some fancy computer station.
Are they studying me? Are they going to dissect me like a fucking frog? I understand their curiosity about another species, but dammit, I’m not a fucking animal!
I try talking to them again but I’m only rewarded by more pain. After that, I keep my mouth shut, even though I want to scream in outrage as they remove my clothes and begin examining me. They poke my ears, mouth, even my nostrils. They scan and measure my boobs and study my nipples for an embarrassingly long time before moving on to even more embarrassing parts of my body.
I close my eyes as they poke and prod around my vagina. I’m helpless to stop the tears, but I manage to keep quiet. It feels like hours pass while they study my most intimate areas, scanning, measuring, and even inserting some tools inside me. It’s not painful, just incredibly humiliating, and I have to bite down hard on my lower lip not to scream at them again.
At least they don’t seem aroused. There are no bulges forming under their overalls or any other signs of them being affected by my body sexually. In fact, there doesn't seem to be anything at all between their legs., It’s as if they were alien Ken dolls. Then again, what do I know? Perhaps they have their appendages hidden somewhere else.
When they’re done with my vagina, they spend a few minutes prodding my back hole, something I fervently wish to forget about. Fortunately, my asshole doesn’t seem to intrigue them nearly as much as my pussy does. Small blessings, right?
They allow me to dress when they’re done and I can honestly say, I’ve never been happier to put on the flimsy, Round Joint-approved shorts and bra top. Anything is better than being naked.
The scientists ignore me as I dress. They chat, excited as if they’ve just discovered a rare butterfly inside my vagina and are about to be awarded an alien Nobel prize. Assholes.
I notice the collar remote lying atop one counter. If I could snatch it, perhaps I could figure out how to take the damned thing off. But if they catch me red-handed, they’ll punish me. I’m not a huge fan of pain—who is?—but it might be worth it.
Torn by indecision, I miss my moment. The guards arrive and grab my arms, leading me out of the room. I throw one last look at the remote, cursing myself for not moving faster. Next time, I’ll definitely steal it. I’d like to think there won’t be a next time with these probing jerks, but based on their excitement, I’m sure I’ll be strapped to their torture table again soon enough.
I stumble as they shove me into my cell. “What the fuck did you do that for?!” I yell, unable to keep quiet anymore. “Do you get off on hurting people, you fucking jerks?!”
Pain shoots through me, bringing me down to my knees. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Should have kept my mouth shut.
I want to scream and wail and beg for mercy, but I don’t want to give them the satisfaction. I suffer in silence, tears streaming down my face and the coppery taste of blood spreading through my mouth. I must have bitten the inside of my cheek, but the pain from that is lost to the agony caused by the fucking collar.
I slump on the floor when they deactivate the collar, gasping for air as I wipe up the drool and snot caused by the pain. “Assholes!” I whisper-shout when I’m certain they can’t hear me. I was right, it seems. My mouth is going to get me into trouble.
I crawl into the far corner of my cell, hugging my knees and weeping like a baby. It’s not fair. Why do terrible things keep happening to me?
Tareq
The lights flick on again and I hastily retreat into the back corner of my cell, pretending to be asleep. I hear the steady footsteps of my guard “buddies” Gamma and Omicron, easily recognizable by the way their sturdy boots click against the metal floor. There’s a creature with them. One who’s barefoot and being half walked, half carried into the empty cell on my right.
Still pretending to be asleep, I open my eyes a tiny crack.
My hearts skip a beat in my chest.
The new slave creature is beautiful. Odd and alien, but beautiful nonetheless. A female, judging by the breasts poking out of her chest, barely covered by a tiny piece of black cloth. Her mane of hair is red, falling down past her shoulders. Her curves are most intriguing and as I follow the rich flare of her hips, my cock stirs to life.
