There’s no sign of the suffering it can inflict. It’s already too late for us to run. “What do you figure her fleshy things are?” unshaven-one says to his friend, brushing my scorns away to fully expose my neck, unaware that to a Dystyr, he’s doing something that’s a great intimacy. I hate them. I try to move, but my muscles don’t seem to respond to commands. Training will increase that value further. And Jurong. We have ourselves a slut.”
No, Jurong tore them from me. The belt will be difficult to clean, and unhygienic if I have to wear it for long. A number of the other captives ranked similar to me, and they didn’t just have that horrible grey-haired man stick his penis in their ass. There they’re implanted and often given further barbaric augmentations, and then they’re branded with the slave mark.
