Altair 4 is notable for one exceptional commodity. All over the galaxy, brothels,
relaxation parlours, strip clubs and escort services demand the green skinned sex slaves
from this earthy fourth planet.
Naturally, there are private markets for these seductive servants among the wealthy
and even not so wealthy. Many times when one of these green haired enchantresses became a
bit too old for the rampant sex trade, they were sold off to private owners to be used at
the owner’s discretion for several decades. These unique body servants had a longer life
span than the Terran populations. For this reason, one of these body servants or play pets
as they were often called could be handed down from father to son as part of the
inheritance. Some of the other humanoid races enjoyed these Altairian mistresses but it
was common knowledge that the Terran human species could not resist the charms of these
uninhibited play pets. In point of fact, many human males and not a few females became
hopelessly addicted to these depraved interstellar sirens.
On Altair 4, males consisted of about only 25 per cent of the overall population.
As a result, many of the excess females could be sold or traded in exchange for various
resources not readily available on Altair 4, also known as Vaniria.
In this way, hundreds of thousands of these intensely sexual female creatures found
their way into every corner of the civilized galaxy.
***
Ston first noticed the superb sensuality of a Vanirian female at a local strip
club. He couldn’t help but become aroused when he saw her wiggle and sway to the loud,
electronic music. Her naked breasts jutted out without any apparent support. Her skin was
of a rich, olive green tone while her dark, waist length hair swirled in lustrous emerald
waves around her enchanting body. Vanirian females range anywhere from about 7 inches over
five feet to a resounding 6 feet 4 inches. There shapely long legs are almost as enticing
as the lurid folds of their ever exposed pussy slits. Ston got rigid just watching her for
a few minutes. Even from where he sat, he imagined he could smell the musky scent of her,
tempting him to ravish her right on the grandstand. However, the five foot high
transparent wall of plexy-glass insured that she would be able to finish the dance without
undo interference from the salivating audience. Ston observed the hunger in the other
patrons’ eyes while everyone carefully examined the dancer’s gyrating form, twirling and
hopping to the thumping rhythm of the over loud music.
***
Some weeks later, Ston tracked down the owner. He was certain he wasn’t the only
one to ask the obvious question, but he asked anyway. The owner was a shrewd nerd from
Procyon 6. It was a cold place and this former occupant of that icy world lived up to the
reputation that entities from that planet were as cool and calculating as any of the
frigid mountain peaks which dominated that frigid world. He actually laughed, if you could
call that rasping wheeze a laugh. “Surely you are jesting! I wouldn’t sell that bimbo for
a million credits. Go to the auctions if you want one of those. They’re all pretty similar
and they are damned good at what they do. Now bug off, I’m busy.”
All Ston thought about were those jutting mounds filling his itching palms. All his
rigid member could ache for was to be buried deep within those energetic green folds. He’d
heard stories of course. There wasn’t a sinful, sexual vice that these nympho slaves would
not perform. Although they couldn’t speak, they were uncanny in figuring out what the
impassioned male desired. They certainly could understand commands, once the translation
chip was lodged into their lovely skull. The occasional human socialator that Ston visited
only kept him somewhat satisfied. Mere hours after an erotic encounter with one of these
available tarts, he would find himself hungering again. He craved that fantasy in green.
As luck would have it, he’d invested some credits in a high risk mineral
exploration company on Antares. For months it stayed at the nominal price of 6 and a half.
Then the unexpected happened. His five thousand shares rocketed to 750 when a rich deposit
of a very rare element, Tritium was discovered by Galactic Ore Development, otherwise
known as GOD. Suddenly, Ston’s net worth was some 3,750,000 credits. He wasted no time in
trading the shares into ready and fully guaranteed credits. He found a nice five acre
estate outside the city for a cool million. 40000 credits worth of furniture later, he was
ready to check out the auction.
***
The auction floor was packed. Merchants, traders and rich businessmen were all
there, ready to bid on whatever interested them. Ston watched in wonder as one exotic
green skinned slavette was paraded in front of the gawking throng. She had nothing on and
yet, she wiggled and swayed as if trying to seduce the entire audience. Cat calls and
whistles punctuated the loud, boisterous noise that such a crowd makes. The lovely green
slave girl smiled and kept wiggling at the spectators until she was finally made to stand
on the block.
The auctioneer was one of those handsome and articulate Margonians. His voice was
like velvet and he had a knack of knowing how to prod interested parties into raising
their bids with just the right comment at just the right moment. He was of course a master
auctioneer and knew his audience. Each person was given a small electronic box to enter a
bid. The bid would show up on the board for all to see until it was replaced by another
bid. The box would glow red so that the auctioneer could readily see who was bidding.
“And now, for the connoisseur of tender, youthful delights, here is the fantabulous
Alicia.” A somewhat short version of a green enchantress swayed her enticing hips while
she stood there, perched on the well lit stage. “She’s only 16 cycles old gentlemen. Only
once a year do we get something this fresh and young for your consumption. She’ll be a
pleasure to introduce her to her erogenous duties. It’s in her genes, gentlemen.”
Rowdy laughter broke into his presentation while the young slave girl paraded
around in all her naked glory.
“So what am I bid?”
Ston was shocked. The first bid started at a round million and rapidly soared to 3
million before things slowed down.
The auctioneer pointed at one of the merchants. “Don’t let her go, Kyron! She’s hot
to trot. She’ll make your blood boil for decades!”
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