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Poor creature – her life will have been hell. Captive Sadami women are highly valuable, prized even more highly than Gaianesians by collectors of flesh if they’re considered beautiful. I’ve never seen one nude before. And this woman would be pretty, were it not for the look of dreadful anguish on her face. But what’s she doing? I don’t have to wait long for an explanation. “Faulty implant!” bellows the guard. “Somebody shoot her.” Even though I’m only watching a screen I recoil in horror. About one in fifty slave implantations are supposed to be unsuccessful or to function only partially. The Slavers of Aghara-Penthay are the best in the galaxy at using the technology and have made recent improvements, but it’s still not completely reliable. This Sadami woman’s implant is not working. The prohibition on killing is not there. She can detonate. I raise my hand to my mouth to stop myself crying out as I understand what is about to happen. The Sadami woman reaches Ja-Alixxe, who looks up in time to see the blue-skinned female gently touch her cheek. “Rest with honor, sister,” the living bomb says to anal the bounty hunter. Instantaneously the screen fills with a white flare, and there is a roar of sound. The Slaver broadcast cuts abruptly and the screen returns to the regular galactic news – an extremely dull article about the supply of alloys used for spaceship manufacture. Hoola and I are left staring numbly at the screen. It should be a mercy. Instead of Ja-Alixxe’s ordeal going on perhaps for days more, it was over in an instant. And instead of her death by gang rape proving male dominance, she became a martyr to women’s resistance. But I’m shocked by the violence of her demise anyway, and I mourn the bounty hunter. “Such cruelty, in the galaxy,” I eventually say. “There was never any warmth for her in her entire life. Even her own sex showed kindness only through destruction.” “It is men, and not women, who cause this barbarity,” Hoola states with patriotic certainty. “It just goes to prove that our cause is true.” Ja-Alixxe is the one who is gone, but it is I who suddenly crave comfort. “Make love to me,” I abruptly plead to Hoola. “After last night’s experience I really need to feel the touch anus of a woman.” Hoola looks surprised only for a moment before she smiles with the flare of igniting sexual desire. “Of course, Lara. Let’s go back buttfuck to the bedroom.” It big cock was only after they were done with me that the men last night showed Hardcore interest in my friend - special agent Hoola, but I consider this bubbly brunette extremely attractive. When Lisa and Linda got home from work that day, I gave them a check for a thousand dollars “my share of the rent for these two months.” I’d already given them money to help with the groceries. The contraption also has fake testicles, of a color to match the penis. The list ranged from a warehouse, to the woods, a mansion, and even the lake just outside of town (in case he was going to “swim with da fishes”). It doesn't count" “Would you like me to?” I asked. "Gotcha." I have missed you” Her big cock back door was so soft, so wet, it was both a similar yet alien sensation when compared to regular sex. He's at the jazz buttfuck festival. It wasn’t a huge place but it was totally charming. I was the one in the Program. It wasn’t the drive that had worn her out, but the two hours anus she spent getting fucked by the blackmailing truck driver at the truck stop outside of Philly. We've put another sensor in here to check whether you're clothed, so no wearing anal Hardcore clothing in here and - importantly - no sheets on your bed. He marched to the door and opened it.