8 comments/ 18150 views/ 10 favorites Second Choice By: Rutabaga72 The key, Esther Davis had decided, involved focusing all her attention on something across the room. It didn't matter what. She settled on a large plant near the entrance. At least she'd always assumed it was a plant. Perhaps just a really ugly sculpture? "Ugh. More. Ughhhh." Furrowing her brow, Esther tried to count the individual leaves. She thought back to her school days, where she'd been the kind of student who would cry over getting a single B. Not that it ever seemed to happen. "You're doing it. Harder. Please." Why did the stupid bitch always have to make so much noise? A wave of guilt washed over her. Talk about a terrible thing to think. It wasn't fair to take out her frustration on Signe, she upbraided herself for what had to be the millionth time. Besides, Esther had to acknowledge, she knew exactly why Signe was so loud. Brown eyes registered her disappointment. She'd failed to keep her focus on the plant. Again. It really shouldn't be this hard, she thought. But of course, it was. Esther, however, was not the quitting type. She would keep control over her own mind, no matter what. It was all she had left. Shutting her eyes tight, Esther tried to imagine somewhere else. Anywhere else. Her results were mixed. Memories flooded back, diverting her attention from Signe's grunting. Just not the memories she would have chosen. When the Jetroxians first arrived, it really wasn't an invasion. Not in the big blockbuster movie sense of the word, at least. No one bothered landing. The Statue of Liberty wasn't blown up with some hyper advanced space gun. As alien attacks go, it all seemed pretty tame. How else to even describe the broadcast from their ship? No one quite understood how the Jetroxians were able to beam their message, in countless languages simultaneously, to every man, woman and child on Earth. Clearly, though, they had mastered all kinds of things humanity couldn't have imagined. Strange too, since the Jetroxians didn't look all that different from humans. Everything seemed to be in about the right place. Their message was reassuringly conciliatory. Somewhat. In a measured tone of voice, the alien spokesman explained the new order of things. Jetroxians, he suggested, simply wished to allow Earth to continue developing at its own pace, ruled by its own laws and people. Even when Esther first heard him, at her office, watching with the same slack-jawed expression as all her coworkers, she'd thought something sounded a little off. A credit to her instincts, surely. For all the good it did her. There was, however, one little matter that required attention, the spokesman continued. In order to ensure the people of Earth were sufficiently peaceful and cooperative to not endanger the universe, the Jetroxians required 10,000 humans to come live on their home planet. And for every year that followed, 10,000 more. The alien assured humanity that no harm would come to anyone selected, and their treatment would conform to the highest galactic standards. What a joke, Esther thought, fingering the collar tightly encircling her neck as she remembered. While communication with Earth from Jetrox would be difficult, he'd added, every effort would be made to keep lines of contact open. Finally, the spokesman said that as a show of good faith, the Jetroxians would bring the 10,000 aboard their ships in a week, so Earth didn't have to go to any effort delivering them. As the broadcast vanished, Esther, along with all her fellow employees, stood in stunned silence. Which lasted just long enough for everyone in the office to start excitedly talking at the same time. They weren't alone. For once, cable news didn't need to sensationalize a thing. Even if no one knew exactly what to make of it. Since there was no actual threat spoken, some felt the aliens should be taken at their word. Others argued this "deal" basically amounted to a tribute for Earth's new overlords. When the aliens didn't respond to further human attempts for contact, it became increasingly clear none of that mattered. The Jetroxians were going to get what they wanted, one way or another. How humiliating for the entire species. Who hadn't remarked on people's general stupidity? But to have their inferiority confirmed like that... If only they'd realized. Esther shook her head. Not like that would have mattered either. Still, there was a public debate over whether or not to resist. A debate devoid of any talk regarding what exactly resistance would even mean. The whole thing had such a strange tone since no one knew whether they would be selected. And the odds were obviously astronomical. 10,000 out of seven billion. Being struck by lightning was more likely. So Esther waited. Just like everyone else. Well, except for the volunteers. Millions of them. Since no method existed for communicating with the Jetroxians, people tried anything they could conceive. Social media posts or rooftop signs were particularly popular. Even with no real knowledge of what life would be like for humans taken to Jetrox, the opportunity to see an alien planet was too tempting to pass up. The volunteers were, however, to be disappointed. Eagerness to be selected would not factor in the Jetroxians' choices. Their list had already been made. It emphasized other... priorities. When the week was up, humanity faced its moment of truth. School was cancelled. Everyone took the day off from work. People even threw parties. They brought their luggage, just in case. One way or another, everyone had to admit this was all pretty exciting. Friendly arguments occurred over whether the chosen would vanish into the ether or be pulled up by some sort of tractor beam. Esther participated in the conversations, like everyone else, but mostly, she wanted it to be over. Not because she thought she, or anyone she knew would be selected. It was all just a bit much. 10,000 out of seven billion. Esther's luck couldn't be that bad. Right? "Oh my God," Signe answered, bringing her back to the present. Eyes springing open, Esther took stock of her surroundings. The ugly plant slash modern art masterpiece. The leash attached at her collar, trailing behind. And the throbbing ache in her sex. Everything just the same as always, Esther sighed. She wanted to touch herself. No use denying it. That was pretty much the same as always too. But listening to Signe's sexy little moans while she was fucked always got her wet. Esther wouldn't have known another woman could affect her like that before she arrived on Jetrox, but there it was. A definite turn on. No use denying that either. So yes, Esther wanted to touch herself. She also knew she wouldn't. Not because she was concerned for her modesty. If she had any clothes, she would be of course. Good news then, that was no longer a problem for her. Not since coming here anyway. Now she wore the same thing every day. Collar, nipple rings and high heels. Nothing else. Ever. Only the shoes even came off at all. And as usual, Esther grit her teeth at any thought of her footwear. Ridiculous, towering high heels that served no purpose besides putting her on display. Even after a few months of practice, Esther would still find herself wobbling on them when she wasn't careful. And sometimes when she was. The effect was erotic. Which, Esther supposed, was the whole point. But the damn things were legitimately uncomfortable. Plus, it made her feel even more used than normal when she consciously thought about them. Which happened every time she had to walk, or more accurately mince, anywhere. Just thinking of her Jetroxian captor, Warkan, dressing her like a doll for his amusement made her sick. And horny. Another turn on apparently. Sometimes Esther wondered if her time here had transformed her. Could the nudity, and the spanking, and the fucking, alright, especially the fucking, have broken her mentally? She felt the same, but maybe that's how they get you. Scary. Perhaps not as scary, though, as the alternative. That nothing in her had changed at all. This was the real Esther Davis. On a leash. Dripping. Damn it, if only she could relieve some tension. Even with Warkan engrossed with Signe, though, there were those damn robots to think about. Scurrying around the room, doing... whatever it was that they did. Besides for watching. Always watching. "Ughhhhhhh." How demeaning. A grown woman told when she could or could not touch herself. It wasn't like she made a habit of doing that. Well, not all the time at least. She had needs after all. Needs that Warkan didn't seem overly interested in satisfying. He hadn't so much as looked her direction in eleven days. Not that she was counting. Sex with Warkan wasn't all that special anyways. "Ohhhh," Signe moaned. Fine, Esther admitted to herself, physically it was mind blowing. But still. Warkan was NOT attractive. Too short. Too fat. And he was a selfish lover. He always pulled her hair to the point of hurting her, or gripped her breasts too hard. She wasn't some kind of squeeze toy for God's sake. Well, Esther blushed, she hadn't been before coming to Jetrox, at least. Warkan, though, seemed totally unconcerned with her pleasure. Not that it seemed to stop Esther from loving what he did to her. On the rare occasions he took her, she'd cum like nothing she'd ever felt back on Earth. And even though Esther knew her own urges were betraying her, she couldn't change that, whether she wanted to or not. After spending her whole day chained for fucking, listening to Signe's ecstatic panting, she couldn't do much of anything actually. Besides for boil in her own juices at least. When Warkan tugged her chain, then, Esther didn't have to fake a thing. He'd kidnapped her. He'd stripped her. But when he ran his hands over her body, she didn't think about any of that. And when he wasn't using her, she mostly just wished that he would. Hair pulling and all. The Jetroxians knew exactly what they were doing, no doubt about it. They wanted docile, eager, human slave girls, so that's what they'd turned Esther into. Rather, that's what she'd turned herself into. No drugs or torture necessary. Unless Esther thought, you wanted to count being forbidden to touch yourself as torture. Which she had to admit, may not be that far from the truth. Normally, there were no rules on the subject. It's not as if Warkan minded Esther playing with herself. Or, frankly, even seemed to notice. So most nights, after he gripped her by the leash, and dragged her to bed, she'd indulge. At first she'd hesitated. Embarrassed by her desires, and the degrading treatment that seemed to be stoking them. It would have been one thing if she was alone. Still humiliating, probably, but not as bad. Esther, though, spent every night lying right next to Warkan. And, even worse in a way, Signe. Usually he couldn't sleep without giving his hot little bed warmer one final fuck to end the day. As if the whore needed that. The familiar pang of guilt hit. Esther shuddered in self-loathing. Signe. Pretty, sweet, and blonde. So damn blonde. Even after all this time, Esther couldn't help but roll her eyes. A farm girl. A SWEDISH farm girl, for God's sake. What were the chances? It's not as if Esther would ever have enjoyed being turned into a concubine. She felt a spasm in her sex at the thought. Well, not totally enjoyed it, she decided, cheeks reddening. Esther was too ambitious to find complete satisfaction in life as a collared sex object. And that didn't even account for the nudity or the spankings. If it was going to happen, though, why, Esther wondered, did it have to be in competition with a girl like this? It's not like she hated Signe. For the most part anyway. She certainly didn't want to hate her. It was just hard sometimes. Sitting there naked and willing while Warkan took another girl instead. And then took her again. And again. Sometimes, in the middle of fucking Signe, without even breaking his rhythm, he'd reach out to give Esther's breast an idle squeeze. That left her feeling pathetic. Not the manhandling against her will. The gratitude. She actually felt thankful when he took the time to give her hardened little nipples a tweak. Even though Warkan didn't bother looking at her when he did it. Not even a side dish to the entrée. More like garnish. There to be admired once, then pushed away and never noticed again. Jesus. At some point, she overcame the embarrassment, and just started satisfying herself. Esther tried to keep quiet, but sometimes an involuntary squeak made its way out. She'd rationalized that Warkan and Signe would be too distracted to notice. No such luck. Of course. When caught, the Jetroxian would just shake his head and call her a "naughty little slut" in a tone Esther assumed was supposed to be affectionate. Singe, on the other hand, would give her a sympathetic smile. There was no guile in it. More like the exact kind of look that special education teachers must sport all the time. Oh, don't feel bad sweetheart, it would have been wrong for me to expect better from you. What could Esther even say back? So she'd just lie there silently. Thinking about her fellow humans buying their freedom with her delivery into slavery. The Jetroxians who'd determined her rightful place was on all fours, collared. Smoldering over Signe's condescending expressions, and Warkan's lack of interest. All of that bitterness eventually, though, focusing on one target. Esther Davis. And the weakness that guaranteed she'd be touching herself again soon. But not now. Or even tonight. No matter how desperate. Esther wondered, not for the first time, if it was possible to spontaneously combust from need. Here she was, listening to Signe squeal, unable to do anything about it besides suffer. Esther's punishment. No sexual contact without Warkan's explicit permission. Her penalty for speaking out of turn. And it was all Rylum's fault. He was Jetroxian too, one of Warkan's friends. Actually, Esther corrected herself, more than that. Rylum was the worst of Warkan's friends. Not the most insulting. He'd never called her degrading names or discussed her body in front of her like she wasn't in the room. And not the cruelest. He didn't have a sadistic gleam in his eyes, like some Jetroxians she'd seen. The type of look that actually made Esther feel grateful that Warkan, for all his faults, didn't take any joy in hurting her. Among the aliens she'd encountered, though, Rylum made her the most nervous. It had been that way since she first saw him, something about his manner. He was lean. Hungry. There wasn't much she could do about it, of course. Then again, there wasn't much Rylum could do to her either. Esther belonged to Warkan. Leaving her strictly look but don't touch for all of his various hangers-on. Looking, however, at least the way Rylum did it... It was like she could physically feel his eyes on her. Just as she could feel the resulting butterflies fluttering in the pit of her stomach. For the most part she tried to ignore him. Or rather pretend to ignore him. Until three days ago, that is, when Esther's feigned indifference failed her. She didn't even know why exactly. It started just like any other day. Warkan sat in his usual chair. The usual collection of Jetroxians paid a call to visit with him. Esther and Signe played their usual roles too. Lying naked and leashed at his feet, one on each side. An average day on Jetrox. Adult women, reduced to pets, waiting for a pull on their collars. A pull signifying Warkan had some use for one, or both of them. Mostly one. Mostly Signe. But even the most perverted alien couldn't spend all day fucking his slave girls. So generally they both sat around. Listening to Warkan's various conversations. Which was the closest thing to entertainment Esther got on Jetrox. Well, non-sexual entertainment anyway. Since Warkan never seemed to do anything besides socialize, Esther originally figured that the aliens had evolved beyond working. That, however, turned out not to be true. Warkan's father was apparently some sort of big shot. That's how he'd managed to procure two Earth women for his son, while most citizens didn't even have one yet. Esther shook her head ruefully. A Jetroxian trust fund baby. Unbelievable. While Warkan's interests never seemed to stray far from his basic comforts, however, some of the Jetroxians who appeared were more interesting. Discussing current events or their work, which Warkan endured unhappily, until he could turn the topic back to food, parties, or, his favorite: sexy little human harem girls. Esther, however, loved it. She was starved for any kind of mental stimulation. Signe was nice enough, but not exactly a legendary conversationalist. And Esther had come to realize that in addition to being spoiled, Warkan's intellect stopped a few levels short of towering. Of course, she was the one leashed, collared, and naked. And she was the one who spent most of her day on her knees. Wearing shoes that made walking impossible. All of which seemed to be getting her off rather than disgusting her. So maybe she shouldn't criticize. Which was basically what had been running through her head at the moment a robot announced a visitor. Rylum strolled in, his eyes immediately finding Esther. Blushing, she hurriedly looked down, averting his gaze. Esther realized she was biting her bottom lip, and forced herself to stop. She should have been used to this by now, and was for the most part. Lord knows enough Jetroxians admired her. Ogled her. Examined her up and down like a piece of meat. But Rylum was different. For one, he never even seemed to notice Signe. And everyone noticed Signe. Esther was heterosexual, and sometimes SHE couldn't help but gape. Blonde hair, blue eyes, all wrapped up in a perfect, tight, little package. Signe could give even beautiful women a complex. Esther, on the other hand, had always thought of herself as plain. And that was on her less self-critical days. She was, though, too hard on herself. To the right kind of man, Esther was exceedingly attractive. Obviously. The Jetroxians never would have selected her otherwise. Esther spent too much time fretting over her weight anyway. And that was when she'd had a fulfilling job, plus a busy social calendar. Not to mention clothes. Now her whole life centered on how she looked naked. So Esther found thoughts about a protruding gut, and cellulite, and a too plump ass nagging at her mind all the time. She cursed her nose, always big for her face. She found herself mourning the loss of a bra, because her breasts seemed to droop and sag. Not like Signe's impossibly perky pair. Because in addition to everything else, the girl was apparently immune to the laws of fucking gravity. But Rylum only had eyes for Esther. Appropriate, Esther fumed, considering he also seemed to only have one facial expression. That stupid little smirk. It made her want to scream. How would he like being leered at like some sort of exotic animal? It wasn't as if she'd chosen to be here. How dare they reduce her to this. Rylum and his whole awful species. They weren't better than her for damn sure. More advanced, maybe, but not better. No matter how tightly the collar they'd affixed on her neck squeezed. Or if her bare breasts jiggled, while rock hard nipples and shiny silver rings piercing them drew attention to the fact. Esther realized she was biting her lip again. Arrogant, smirking, bastard. Didn't he understand that all she wanted was to go back home? She ignored the ache in her sex, suggesting other desires on her mind. And in that moment, only one thing consumed her. Wiping that insolent look off Rylum's face. So Esther made an emotional decision. Looking up from the floor, she'd stared right back at him and blurted out: "What's your problem?" Second Choice The statement hung in the air, for a bit, no one saying anything. Esther, however, was already cursing herself. Not because Warkan was going to punish her. Of course, her ass throbbing in anticipation of an upcoming spanking, she knew he would. The words hadn't sounded right. She'd intended to come across assertive, challenging. Instead, she'd only managed petulant. Too nasally and whiny by far. No wonder Rylum had still been smiling. If anything, his smirk somehow got... smirkier. Warkan, on the other hand, appeared mortified. Shown up in front of another Jetroxian by his own slave girl. Addressing Rylum, he tried to explain. "She can be... difficult." Then, worrying he'd only made himself appear weaker, Warkan turned to bluster. "But I know just how to handle that." He punctuated the statement by grabbing the end of Esther's leash, and taking up the slack to pull her closer. She knew she'd have to go to him. Her only other option was being choked by her collar. Esther would be damned, though, if she did it crawling on the ground. Setting her feet on the floor, she moved to rise off the ground. Rather, she wobbled in a vain attempt to get to her feet. Between the too tall high heels, and the pull on her neck from the leash throwing off her balance, Esther couldn't quite manage it on the first try. How, she wondered, did Signe always make this look so graceful? Showing his traditional concern for her feelings, Warkan gave the leash an especially harsh tug, actually managing to bring Esther, ass scraping along the floor, a little closer. "Now girl," he commanded impatiently. Esther shot him her most poisonous look, but the alien was unmoved. Rising to her knees, burning with rage, she started towards him. Another pull on her chain forced Esther to use her hands for balance. For some reason, the worst part was feeling Rylum's eyes on her thighs and bottom. It wasn't that moving this way left her sex on display. Not even the fact that he could probably tell she was wet. Instead, she wondered if he noticed her cellulite. Or took special notice of the way her wide ass jiggled, seemingly on its own, as she crawled to relieve the leash's pressure. When Esther arrived at his feet, she made to stand up again. Warkan was having none of it, however. Issuing a sharp order for her to "stay," he reached a hand down to grab her breast. A small moan escaped her lips as he massaged her gently. When Warkan took hold of her nipple ring, twisting it between his fingers, though, she cried out: "Ouch." It was more in surprise than pain. Esther's increased sensitivity since the piercing made seemingly any contact with her nipples electric. "See?" Warkan asked, adopting the tone of a put upon television sitcom husband. "She's a good girl for the most part, but you have to watch her so she doesn't get willful. I'll be sure she gets an especially red ass for this. Only way she learns." Rylum didn't really appear to be listening. Staring down at Esther, his eyes had a far away look. As if only one thing in the world existed for him. When he finally spoke, his tone was soft, dreamy. "Maybe it's time to try something different." "Like what?" "She's got fire, right?" "Ummm, I guess..." Warkan trailed off. "If anything, spanking will probably just make her more stubborn." Rylum continued like he hadn't been interrupted. "Use it against her." "So what?" "Stop letting her play with herself, for one. I mean, just look at her. She's practically panting. Take charge. It's what she wants. Hell, it's what she needs. Control her desires better, she'd train herself." Esther hadn't thought she had much dignity left to lose. After all, she was already an exposed, leashed harem girl. She realized, too late though, just how wrong she'd been. Her cheeks blazed in embarrassment, and she prayed the ground would swallow her up. For the first time since her arrival on Jetrox, Esther even found herself wishing for a beating. No question that a sore ass would be preferable to this humiliation. She accidentally managed to catch Signe's expression. Eyes, warm and nurturing, while even, white teeth smiled back at Esther encouragingly. Bitch. She directed her attention back to the floor. If Esther had watched Rylum instead, however, she would have seen him seem to snap him out of his reverie. The smirk even disappeared. Suddenly bashful, he told Warkan: "Only my opinion, though. Do what you want." "No," the fatter Jetroxian decided, "it makes sense. A week without touching herself could be just the thing. Rylum just saved that fat ass a spanking, girl. Maybe you should thank him." Esther didn't bother looking up. Which seemed to be developing into something of a theme for her on Jetrox, since she also wasn't looking up now. At least she wasn't until a sharp jerk on her neck, raised Esther's head in spite of herself. She bit back anger over this latest pull on her leash. It's not like there was anything she could do about it. Besides, there was nothing strange about feeling the strain against her neck. Warkan always liked holding both girls' leashes tightly while he fucked. It was pretty ridiculous if you asked Esther. Not that anyone ever did. Of course. She really didn't see why she needed to be leashed at all. It's not as if there was any risk she would run off. Even if she tried, where could she go? Tough for a naked human woman to stay inconspicuous on Jetrox. Then again, no one seemed to notice Esther around here, she thought ruefully. She might as well be invisible. So maybe the leash was necessary after all. As if answering her thought, Warkan gave Esther's chain an especially hard tug, causing her head to snap back again. Signe was getting close. Esther could tell. Her breathing always took on a certain rhythm when she neared orgasm. Esther didn't bother turning around. The image in her head was vivid enough without looking. Golden tresses catching the room's light just so. Clear blue eyes. Bouncing breasts that were a full handful without being too big. Signe always looked like the star of some shampoo commercial, even riding Warkan's stubby cock. Dirty slut. Shame and anger built up one more time. Esther felt moisture on her thigh. She was dripping again. Esther shifted uncomfortably. She'd been resting on her hip, legs tucked behind her, one hand on the floor for support. It was one of her normal positions. She'd tried them all. She certainly had plenty of time to practice. In the movies, slave girls had to fan their master with a giant leaf. Or at least sit on his lap, feeding him grapes. Warkan, though, had never required such a thing. There were robots for that. Esther had only one job as far as he was concerned. Lying chained beneath him: naked, pierced and eager. All of which was well and good for him, but required her to spend a lot of time fidgeting to avoid a sore back, a foot falling asleep, or one of any other of a hundred little physical maladies. It seemed like a strange thing to bother her, considering her circumstances, but... Originally, it was even worse. Signe had eventually complained about the hard floor and asked Warkan for a pillow. He took care of it immediately. What a shock. Esther sighed. He'd only brought one, though, just for Signe. Esther doubted it was any sort of conspiracy to hurt her. More like it never occurred to him to do anything else. Signe, though, accepted the pillow gratefully, and slid it over to Esther in one smooth motion. She then looked up at Warkan with those big blue eyes of hers, and he ordered the robots to procure a second. Signe really was a nice girl. Another sigh. Sharper this time. The deep breath caused her to shift a little, and she felt a painful sting on her behind. Esther let out a not particularly lady like curse as she rubbed her ass where she'd been pricked. Fucking high heels. It was funny. At least it would be if it happened to someone else. The collar. The leash. The nipple rings. Esther hated her shoes the most. She felt a twinge of embarrassment as she remembered complaining to Signe about them. The girls always had to be careful when talking to one another. Warkan could be... unpredictable on the issue. Sometimes he tolerated it, or even seemed amused to see his concubines "playing" together. Other times, though, he'd admonish them for not focusing. He actually used that word. Focusing. As if it took some great mental effort to sit around on the end of a chain, waiting to be mounted. And of course, whom did he blame for this insufficient enthusiasm? Not his golden girl, obviously. Instead it was Esther who got a lecture about "being a bad influence," before being dragged out of the hall by one of his robots. Warkan didn't like hearing her cries as she took the spanking he ordered. "Urghhhh," Signe howled as she and Wakan finished simultaneously. Esther felt the pressure on her neck disappear as the alien dropped both leashes with a satisfied huff. The only sound in the room was heavy breathing. From all three of them. Although, Esther's panting had a desperate, needy quality to it not shared by the other two's. With a grunt, Warkan disentangled himself from Signe, leaving her on the floor, and pulled up his pants. Stroking her golden hair with one hand, he found Esther's leash with the other and ordered her to come. Esther rose off her ass, but only far enough to turn around, knees now resting on the floor. She proceeded to shuffle towards Warkan and Signe, both still breathing hard, occasionally using her hands for support. She hadn't even bothered trying to stand this time. It was just easier this way. The heels were always such an adventure, and she really didn't have very far to go. Plus, once she got there, she'd probably have to drop to her knees anyway. So Esther crawled. Trying not to think about it too much. "Alright girls," Warkan started, "I don't have time to fuck you anymore right now. No matter how tempted I may be." He punctuated the statement by moving his hand to give Signe's nipple a gentle tweak. She let out a moan of pleasure, as she smiled up at him. Esther contemplated the most painful way possible to kill them both. Warkan, however, went back to stroking Signe's hair as he continued speaking. "I've decided to have a few people over later. They should be arriving pretty soon. I'm going to get changed into something more presentable. You two are so lucky you don't have to worry about clothes." Maybe hot lava Esther decided. That seemed like a pretty bad way to go. She wondered if Jetrox had volcanoes. Warkan wrapped both leashes loosely around his chair. Before he left for his room, though, almost as an afterthought, he turned to Esther. "I expect you to behave yourself. Just try to be more like Signe. Your ass will thank you for it." As he walked away, Signe stood up easily, and took a moment to stretch before making her way to her pillow to sit down. "Don't worry," the Swedish girl attempted to console her, "he's only hard on us because he cares. It's tough, but we just have to look on the bright side. Life could be so much worse." Esther wondered if Signe would appreciate a Stockholm Syndrome joke. Probably not. She made do with an acknowledging grunt, which seemed suitably non-committal, instead. Neither girl mentioned the upcoming party. Why bother? They'd both been on Jetrox long enough to know the drill. Comfortably dressed aliens bantering over hors d'oeuvres, while Signe and Esther served their own, unique purpose. Being naked, leashed and submissive. Happily reminding the Jetroxians of their own superiority. When Warkan eventually returned, it wasn't long before his guests began trickling in, and he rose to greet them. Esther found herself watching one of the Jetroxian women. She looked slim. Her outfit wasn't particularly flattering in Esther's opinion, but God she was jealous of it. Esther wasn't even dressed in her dreams these days. She worried she wouldn't remember what clothes felt like soon. It had been so long. Since her first day on Jetrox. Esther grimaced at the memory, wondering again how she could have been so naïve. The last time she'd had clothes, and she gave them up without even a whimper. Stupid. So fucking stupid. After being transported onto the Jetroxian ship, it hadn't taken long to arrive on their home world. Before Esther even knew what was happening, she found herself, along with Signe, in Warkan's house. They didn't meet any Jetroxians at first. Instead, they were greeted by a robot. It was quite small, not even coming up to Esther's knees. It spoke in a pleasant, female voice. Siri, Jetroxian style. The robot advised both women that they needed a medical exam, gesturing to a pair of booths. Esther and Signe had just stared initially. Eventually they shrugged shoulders at one another. It sounded reasonable enough. So both women walked into their respective pod. As the door closed behind Esther, the machine had kicked into action. Lights whirled, but the process was over almost instantly. It wasn't painful. In fact, Esther didn't even realize what had happened until the door opened again. Her clothes were gone. A collar had somehow been fixed on her neck. Most disconcerting of all, though, was her new jewelry. Nipple rings. Signe, who'd received the same treatment, let out a shocked cry as she attempted to cover herself with her hands. Esther felt the same embarrassment. Only it quickly turned into fury. Looking back now, she realized how silly she must have appeared. Red faced in anger, without a stitch of clothing, yelling at a small robot. How tough could she look with everything on her body visibly jiggling? Evidently, the machine thought so too, since it ignored her complaints. Instead, the robot proffered two pairs of high heels and ordered Esther and Signe to wear them. Signe was still too shocked by her sudden change in circumstance to muster a response, but not Esther. Fooled once by the phony medical exam, she had no intention of cooperating again. As Esther colorfully explained her position, however, the robot proved that willing participation was unnecessary. A metal arm extended to grab her. She hadn't run. She hadn't fought. The arm moved too quickly for that. Wrapping itself around Esther's hips, it pulled her to the ground, ass up and facing the machine. No matter how hard she struggled, Esther wasn't able to change her position. She'd known nothing good was going to happen to her like this, but it was Signe who first realized Esther's fate. She could still remember the horrified expression in the blonde's eyes as the robot extended a second arm. Before Esther could turn her head to see, though, the arm crashed down. On her behind. Hard. She'd had her ass slapped before, but not like this. Not even close. And it wasn't just once. Relentlessly, the merciless mechanical arm slammed against her helpless ass. Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Even more than the pain, which had been intense, Esther could remember the sound. It echoed through the whole room. Punctuated by the horrible, chipper, female voice repeating: "Please comply." What choice had Esther had? Her ass felt like it was on fire. She was crying hysterically, and still the robot continued. Thwack! Thwack! Esther still wondered how she'd managed to push out a coherent sentence agreeing to wear the heels. The attack finally stopped. Both arms retracted back into the machine. Esther, left a blubbering mess, heard its final comment. "Thank you for complying." She barely remembered Signe helping her to her feet, and both girls slipping on their new shoes. What Esther did remember was her first meeting with an actual Jetroxian. Warkan, in all his stumpy glory, had entered the room. Carrying what Esther had thought at the time was two ropes. If only. After he'd fastened one to each collar, he turned around. He hadn't even said a word. Instead, Warkan gripped the leashes, and started to walk. Esther and Signe, not that they had a choice, followed behind. Tits bouncing with every step. Two bare asses swaggering thanks to the high heels. One pale, the other bright red, as Warkan led them towards their new life. A new life including being the only chained, naked, "guests" at parties just like this one. Sometimes, Warkan would just leave them on the ground while he circulated. Today, though, he apparently decided he wanted more. Well, from Signe at least. He grabbed the blonde by her leash, waiting for her to stand before he led her over to a group of Jetroxians Esther didn't recognize. He didn't bother with Esther. Seemingly content with letting her stay where she was, providing ambience as only a bound slave girl can. It figures, Esther thought darkly. Abandoned again. The hall was filled with laughing Jetroxians. None of who seemed to be taking anything more than a passing interest in her. That figured too. It occurred to Esther that she was the only person in the room not standing. Maybe it was for the best. It's not like she wanted extra attention. Unlike some people she could name... Esther looked up at Signe. The blonde was holding Warkan's arm, pushing herself tightly against him. Even as he focused on his conversation, he idly stroked her tight little ass. Esther watched his hand slowly crawl down, arriving at its target between Signe's thighs. Warkan's slow, lazy rubbing changed into something quicker, more purposeful. Signe pushed herself against his hand. Welcoming him. Esther, swallowing jealousy she hated herself for feeling, went back to staring at the floor. Her nipples were so hard they almost hurt. Distracted and miserable, she didn't even see a Jetroxian approach her. She did, however, recognize the voice. "Up you go." Rylum. Reaching down to grab Esther's arm, he helped her to her feet. He was the first person to touch her besides Warkan since she arrived on Jetrox. That was quickly followed by another new experience. Rylum slipping his coat around her shoulders, leaving Esther covered for the first time in ages. Any close inspection would have instantly revealed her as a human slave girl. The collar was still easily visible. So were miles of bare thigh. But from a distance, wearing the Jetroxian clothing, maybe she could pass. Maybe. This wasn't a rescue. Esther knew that. She was horny, not stupid. Rylum wanted to possess her. He always had. She would only be trading one alien master for another. It was strange, Esther thought, how calm she was about the whole thing. Coolly assessing her options, like they were happening to someone else. She could yell out right now, and Rylum would be ruined. It was probably the smart move, Esther decided. Rylum's whole plan was idiotic. He was letting his little head think for his big one. It didn't take a brain surgeon to realize that. There were so many Jetroxians here. Warkan was only twenty feet away for God's sake. Even if she went along with Rylum, they probably wouldn't even make it out of this room. Then what? Maybe she'd be blamed for not resisting. Who knows what new indignities Warkan could dream up. Esther's safest play was to put a stop to this right now. She didn't even know anything about Rylum when it came down to it. Not really. Maybe he'd be worse than Warkan. So even if by some miracle his spur of the moment snatch and grab worked, Esther would regret going along. The same way she regretted voluntarily walking into that machine her first day on Jetrox. That decision cost Esther her clothes. Her pride. Screw this one up and who could say. She had to get it right. Esther smiled. She couldn't even remember the last time that happened. It was nice to have a choice. Even if it were only picking the man who would hold her leash while she sucked his dick. Still. It was her choice. Esther's destiny, held in her own hands. She made a decision. Looking into Rylum's eyes, she could sense his impatience, his fraying nerves. He'd taken a terrible risk. Was that a bead of sweat? Her smile went wider. It felt good to be the one doing the smirking. Finally. But she couldn't afford to luxuriate in it. Not how she wanted, at least. Showtime. Second Choice Esther took hold of Rylum's arm. Together they walked towards the door. No use hurrying. Good thing since her heels were designed to give her a sexy wiggle rather than speed. Warkan's back was still turned, his hand working Signe faster now. Esther thought she could hear the blonde moan. God knows she should be able to recognize the sound. Maybe, though, she just imagined it. The typical party background noise made it hard to tell. In the end, what difference did it make? Either way, Esther wasn't looking back.