“Beyala,” the general says, addressing the woman in a kindly voice, and with great courtesy, he says, “If you’d like, you may sit.”I don’t...need an explanation for the general’s elaborate formality.“They gave you the implant chip,” I say to her, my voice choking with sympathy.Implanting is the stuff of nightmares, another example of the Slaver’s cruelty towards their captives. Lodged in Beyala’s brain stem, too deep to be surgically removed, it will be there. Her control chip. Everyone in the. My mouth dried as I began rolling the skin over the hard, inner core. Every detail that I felt produced a vivid picture in my mind: his curly hairs that tickled my fingertips, his thick and spongy head in my palm, and the ridges of veins as he became erect.It was like nothing I'd ever felt. Now I needed to see it, to look at it. I had to. I started to pull it out. As I did, Ben pushed his pants down and his huge cock sprang in front of my face. My eyes had never seen anything like this penis.. More

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