New Gomorrah - Slave Auction: A Little Something Extra
Written by madvlad
In the future, a world far from Earth was colonized by humans. Its original designation was simply C74-A210ZB, based on a galactic charting directory. After a few decades, it earned the appropriately inspired name, New Gomorrah.
Like its biblical namesake, it is a den of iniquity paradoxically combined with centers of culture and learning. Anything is available to the highest bidder - or simply taken by force or by subterfuge. Among the most prized commodity among all races are young human females. By quirks of biology, they can be easily used for breeding purposes for a variety of species as well as for sexual pleasure.
Feloran's majordomo showed Driscoll to the usual booth. Feloran wasn't there, which meant he was running late but Driscoll understood. Running a club like this along with other enterprises could often play havoc with one's schedule. There were bills to pay, debts to collect, officials to bribe - the whole lot.
Driscoll didn't have to place an order as a scantily clad humanoid woman brought him his preferred ale. Leaning back, Driscoll let his eyes drift to the ceiling where the Shree (or at least their tentacles, which was all he could see, were playing with their toys as usual.
The aliens served as security in the club and Feloran kept them entertained with various females, mostly young and human to fuck them until their minds were shot. After that, they didn't struggle so much and the Shree would get bored. When they were discarded by their tentacled rapists, the females were usually hauled off to one of the mines to serve as nearly comatose fuck sockets for miners who just wanted a quick cum and didn't really care how their partners responded, or even if they did at all.
It was a hell of way to go - getting fucked into zombie-hood and then getting fucked in the fetid underground until the body followed the mind. But it was a cold universe out there, baby, and Driscoll knew of plenty of nasty of ways to die and this didn't even make the top ten.
He squinted as he looked at the rather small figure suspended nearly above the booth. She was human - and quite a little one at that. Shaking his head, Driscoll wondered why one this young would have been tossed to the Shree. Usually, it was the troublemakers who got sent up there but how much trouble could this kid - maybe five or six years old - cause?
Seeing this blonde little girl getting ruthlessly triple-fucked made even Driscoll a little cold. But he found his attention drifting back to her. Her pale little body was shiny with sweat and semen as it wriggled fruitlessly within the grasp of several tentacles. Some of them played over her smooth skin, caressing her pathetically small features.
Her back was facing down toward the booth, affording Driscoll the sight of two bubbly little rump cheeks pushed apart by the thick flesh wetly jamming in and out of her asshole. The poor kid must have been getting it from the Shree for a while because the tentacle was pretty damned thick and was going into her a good length.
The girl was slowly rotated and Driscoll saw her face in profile. The one brown eye he could see was wide open and a cute, slightly upturned nose was spattered with Shree semen. With her jaws wrenched open, another tentacle freely fucked her deeply into her throat, making her neck bulge with every push.
On her otherwise flat chest, the little girl's nipples were reddened and erect, protruding noticeably from the constant play of a lashing tendril there. Another tendril slid up and opened at the tip before sucking a nipple in. The girl jerked as her undeveloped breast was sucked and then the other tendril locked onto her other niplet. No wonder they had been sticking out so much, Driscoll thought.
Now the girl was facing him so he could see the final tentacle at work. It stroked obscenely into the tiny, hairless hole between the child's legs. Her fleshy cunt lips were bulging as they stretched around the alien flesh mauling her immature sex. Like her ass, her twat must have been well worked over and quite elastic now considering the girth and length pumping into the girl's impossibly small confines.
Despite her thin build, the girl's tummy was slightly swollen and Driscoll knew it had to be from the heavy loads of Shree jism that had been pumped into her throat, bowels and uterus. Plenty of the stuff stained her body and more of it oozed from her helpless twatlet with each gurgling thrust from the tentacle.
Suddenly the girl went into spasms and thick semen spurted from her abused snatch and ass. From her neck movements, she must have been swallowing more from her third tormentor. Driscoll wondered how many heavy loads of goo had already been pounded into the tiny body.
"I'm surprised she doesn't burst."
Driscoll looked away from the ceiling as a tall, yellow-skinned being slid into the booth.
"Feloran," he said by way of simple greeting.
The alien nodded and then gestured to the struggling little sex toy above.
"You were enthralled."
Driscoll wasn't one to bullshit anyone - one reason for his modestly successful business - and nodded.
"Yeah, it's a hell of a show and I'm a bastard for watching it - and even enjoying it. But I mean, that young? Really?"
"I just had a huge lot of slaves arrive and was suddenly short a tentacle girl. She was convenient."
"Yeah, but still..."
Feloran turned a few shades paler, a sign of his amusement.
"Are you growing a conscience, Driscoll?"
"Fuck my conscience, what's this run you need me for?"
This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Changes last made on: Thursday, December 08, 2016