A Sex Slavee To Alien Masters

My health and well being were still a priority. She watched what I ate and what I did every day. The men still cand watchedswim every day. It was much like when I waspregnant.

Also like during thepregnancy, my contact with my daughters was Limited after Jonathan’s birth. The girls had to ask permission to see us and Jonathan could not go out into the mines. My girls visited in our area for specified amounts of time. I knew Nu-reeh monitored us.

Nu-reeh had given the girls instructions. Jonathan could touch them if he wanted, but they were never to Lay a hand on him. He was virtual royalty in our Little world.

Jonathan crawled over the girls and tasted their fur. When they satIndian stylehe liked to settle in the warmth of their Laps and sleep. My littlesonadored his birth sisters and squealed with joy whenever they cto visit.

Not surprisingly, my girls were still at it. When they physically cto see me, they couldn’t say much. The messages on the pad I got from them toldwhat they were doing to help the freedom effort.

As they traveled around they did different jobs, usually reconnaissance, for the rebel leaders. Hannah was also involved in rescues from the compounds. Just from the way she toldstories I knew she protected the men fiercely.

I didn’t know exactly how human children grew, but I knew about Paterians. Much like his sisters Jonathan started to try to walk after his first moon. By that time, he finally wanted to sleep when the men did and wanted to wake when the moons sat. It was relieving to sleep at night, but walking brought new challenges to us.

Nu-reeh kept him well dressed as his needs changed. The day he started to stand she had little pants sent for him. As soon as the clothing got tight on his growing body, the right size was sent. She was very attentive to his needs.

Those strange big eyes began to Look slightly more normal as he grew. His face seemed to grow around them. The long blonde hair framed his face, making him Look almost angelic. He was a markedly handsLittle man.

There were issues, though, and things I would never have considered I could screw up. Inadvertently I slowed his ability to speak. I sang to him and spoke around him inEnglish.I didn’t do it to be rebellious, I was just used to Hannah and Kennedy, who knew both Languages.

For instance, when I knitted Jonathan was enthralled by the movement of the needles. He’d watch them carefully for a tand then reach out to grab them. What usually happened after that was a tug of war as half a morning’s worth of knitting fell apart.

“Gimme,” I’d say inEnglish, laughing at his antics, “mine, not yours.” Jonathan learned the words from me quickly. When he started to babble it was a blend. Sof the words were Paterian and someEnglish. Only Rose and I could truly understand the strange mixture of words and phrases that he started to use.

Nu-reeh was displeased at his language, but gruffly informedit would be fixed at the Child Keepers. I swallowed the tears I wanted to shed and merely thanked her. Hannah and Kennedy would free my baby boy. One day he could speak any Language he wished.

By the tthe child had passed three moons, he could have been termed a devil. He was curious and strong. Evan brought him toys and he dismantled them. He threw his blocks and bent his puzzle pieces. His favorite trick was to drop things into the pool and watch them sink Shiny stones the men brought him to play with were perfect for that. ALL in all, I could barely keep up with him.

Evan feared for the boy around the water and taught him to swim. It wasn’t so much a lesson as a way to alleviate our fears. As it turned out, Jonathan had no fear of water and swimming in it cnaturally to him. As soon as he was allowed to swim he’d swim down to the bottom and collect the things he’d

thrown into the pool. Of course all he did was toss them back in to retrieve again. He’d play that game all day if I allowed him.

Early on it had becapparent that Jonathan was too adventuresto be left alone. My friends and I developed a system when we cleaned our rooms. One of us would watch the boy as the other two worked. As we moved from room to room he’d grab the side of my dress or Rose’s dress and babble away to us. Our tto clean was his tto talk. It seemed good practice for him since he was usually too active to stop and converse.

Most of the tactivity was Jonathan’s motto. He ran circles around all of us. When I used a table he’d climb onto it only to jump off. The furniture in our apartment was his own personal jungle gym. He’d bound from chair to chair, never touching the floor. It wasn’t possible to stop him. The word ‘no’ was like an ignition switch. Damien Laughed and said it was just Like Evan.

Jonathan was Like Evan in other ways also. His hair grew so it ran down his back. When it reached a certain point it seemed to stop growing. We kept it tied back to keep it from tangling in everything. Getting a knot out of Jonathan’s hair always resulted in screams that sounded like bloody murder. Damien remembered that having been a frequent issue when they were young also.

There were things about Jonathan that were certainly human attributes. Curiosity could have been his middle name. He wanted to do everything we did. Meal twas always a challenge. Without teeth he couldn’t really eat the food on our plates. He’d nurse and then he wanted to taste what we were having.

Lucky for us, as it turned out, I found he’d eat mashed up food. I would crush soft things, Like my sweet potato chunks and feed that to him. It didn’t make him sick and he was growing well, so we always shared with him.

He nursed frequently, but ate something off mine or Evan’s plate at most meals. It seemed to make the little one happy. I was always glad when he was happy.

Jonathan was an all consuming task, but we all loved him. He loved us, too, in his own wild, childish way. Jonathan needed more though.