Hostage Brides of the Overlords: Part 3: (Futuristic Sci Fi Erotica) by Jill Soffalot

Author:Jill Soffalot [Soffalot, Jill]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Wild Charm Publishing
Published: 2014-09-08T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Two

Clara was nervous. She had the night off, and so she was able to sit in her room and listen to the other women come and go. She knew how they felt: apprehensive when they left, sore when they came back. Even if you had an orgasm when you got fucked by the bigs, you were still sore afterwards.

It was late now. The hall lights had been turned low and most of the bedroom lights were off. A security orderly occasionally walked the halls, peaking in here and there.

Clara was waiting for the others to come get her. The idea of going to a drink-and-fuck party would normally have been insane to her, but there was a cold logic behind her decision to join them. She had to get pregnant. And until she got pregnant she would be fucked by the bigs, with their massive cocks punishing her pussy, stretching her to the limits. The orgasms were big, she admitted to herself, but the damage was real. She would rather get pregnant from a nice normal boy that get her pussy smashed night after night by these monsters.

It was very quiet when she heard the footsteps padding down the hallway, and she tensed up in her bed. Clara got up and moved to the door. The door stood open a crack, and Gretchen's face appeared. "Ready?"

"Absolutely," Clara whispered. She slipped out the door behind her friend. The pair of them dashed down the hall, moving as quietly as they could in the sock feet. They made a turn, went down the hall, another turn, another hall, and then met up with Regina and Heineka and a little, who was apparently their alcoholic co-conspirator.

"Mark, this is Clara," Regina said. "Clara, Mark."

"She's hot," the little man said, and he nodded toward Clara. "You ready to fuck?"

"I just found out," Gretchen said to Clara. "He'll only take us through if we agree to fuck him."

"Three way!" the little said, holding up his arms in triumph. "Come on, we gotta get the booze."

He led them to a locked door. He opened it using a passcode, and after that it was just a long stretch of doors, hallways, and passcodes. Clara was soon completely lost. Everything looked the same to her. Eventually they stopped in a small room full of standing freezers, and Mark began pulling out bottles and handing them to the women. They were 1.25 liter clear glass bottles, filled with clear liquid, with black plastic caps.

"Oh, we're gonna get fucked up," Mark said in a sing-song voice. He gave each woman two bottles to carry and took one for himself, from which he took a long, burbling drink. "Fuck yeah," he said, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. He was fairly typical of the littles, with a large head on a middle-schooler's body, with hair and skin that suggested middle-age. Although obviously a letch, Clara was not as repelled by him as she was by Able Jones. At least Mark was

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