Almost a half of the population of this room are crying or moaning, and with only my own sex for company in this women-only privacy I briefly permit myself the catharsis of weeping. I’m for the Rape Run. God help me. Despair claims me completely. My chest heaves with sobs, and tears run openly down my girl cheeks, falling onto the silken material of my wrap where it protrudes over my breasts. It is hopeless. There will be no escape for me now, save the one-in-ten chance that I am the winner of The Rape Run. Even if I survive without violation I will be a broken woman – marked forever as a slave, and never living down the varied other public degradations that lead up to the main event. And what if I do lose? I will spend the rest of my days as slave to one of the five Hunters, or sold on to a wealthy collector when my captor grows tired of me. The implant they will embed in my girlfriend skull will prevent me even from taking my own life and I will serve his sexual needs, believing it is my place to do so. The humiliations I have suffered so far will be nothing to what lies ahead in the Run. In a way, even these nudes are better off than I am. Through blurred tears I look around the hold, wishing I was an anonymous naked captive, instead of the famous Colonel Melena de Santo, pride of the space fleet and about to become its shame. When my tears are under control and I’m only sniffing, I’m obliged to meet the questioning gazes of the slaves on the benches. One of the naked women, a pretty blonde sat at the front of a row, is not crying. She turns and looks at me. “I know you,” she says, confirming my celebrity couple status, “You’re Colonel Melena de Santo.” I am surprised to hear anger towards me in her voice. “I have offended you?” I reply in a shaking voice, bemused. “I thought you were doing good making your stand, but you have made things worse for free women, not better, now you have been captured,” the blonde says despondently. “You wanted to be famous and have the glory. You wanted to show your boobs off in that poster. Now those who are still free will for that with fear, when they see what the Slavers do to you.” And so I learn not even the galaxy’s women indian are on my side. Black depression has sexy me once more, but this time, I fight the tears. I’m not going to cry in front of someone just because they’ve hurt my feelings. I stare numbly ahead for the rest of the flight. Occasionally the shuttle gives a jolt and secured to the wall only by my neck, I stumble forward, pulling painfully against Ja-alixxe who has not said a word since the concourse. It seems to take forever to land. When the ship settles with a heavy boom and the engines cut, the gravity we feel can only be real. I am planet-side. My worst nightmare has come true. I am a prisoner on Aghara-Penthay. I broke the kiss. Silence can be rewarding, you get my drift, Jason?" I could slit her throat now”? What if I drove and was stopped by the police? Sheri also had a girlfriend dick and she couple was putting her dick up my ass. Her entire body spasmed with another orgasm, her hot, salty cum squirting all over my balls and thighs as I hammered my steely dick in and out of her asshole! Was I not satisfying her? Now that was the Sara I remembered from back then. Sighing, I gave my phone a small smile. I thought to myself, feeling the dispassionate calm of an academic’s rationality, You know how this is going to happen. He was right, her tits were bigger than his mom's. I was really up indian there, back arched, shaking about and moaning girl and swearing. I soaped the cloth and felt around until I found her. Gotta start with the autopsy. Her face twisted with agonized ecstasy. This is it.. She had many questions and a lot to learn. Mostly clothes strewn all over. He let their cheers resound through the gymnasium for what must've been a minute, a huge grin on his face. She turns and sits down, taking me into her mouth sexy again. Her ass cheeks had reddish marks on her brown skin from where I had grabbed and spanked her.