I don’t know how long I was alone with the doctor when one of the male Silver farmers who is in charge comes in. I know he fears the doctor. Everyone fears the doctor, but he still says, “Volunteer 4711 is needed with me.”

The doctor doesn’t take his eyes off me. “She is busy.”

“She is not meant for you. She is meant to help me in the field, in the house.”

“Look here,” the doctor says, running a silver hand up and down my naked body. “So like us on the outside but very different on the inside. Sex is pleasurable…” he continues on, but I don’t have the vocabulary to understand all of what he’s saying. Judging by the farmer’s expression, it wasn’t kind.

The farmer seems embarrassed to see me in such a way which I find interesting because he has no problem lining me up for brothel nights at the main house.

When I orgasm again, I do feel ashamed that the farmer sees me like this, and I see the embarrassment in his blue eyes too. He says something to the doctor I can’t understand.

“No,” the doctor replies to the farmer. “Will you challenge me over this volunteer?”

The farmer gives me a pitying look and then walks away. I can’t help myself, and I cry out after him, “Help me.” I fear what the doctor will do to me. But all I hear are footsteps, and then the front door closing.

* * *

I don’t know how long the doctor played with and manipulated my body in all different ways with the tech. My mind couldn’t process it after a while, and my body gave up, too, so I slipped in and out of consciousness.

I know it’s the middle of the night by the dark sky, and thankfully I find my way back to the main house by the light of the planets in the sky. I enter naked and softly go to the bathroom to wash and survey the damage to my body. I have bruises all over, and I’m bleeding from my engorged clit and labia. I wince and have to hold a scream in when I get underneath the foam shower.

I must not have been as quiet as I thought as one of the Silver females comes into the bathroom, as it had no lock, closes the door behind her, and surveys me. “You must be careful. It’s almost time for the ... and …” I miss a lot of what she says. What I do understand is that something bad is going to happen soon. The female realizing I didn’t understand what she was trying to tell me, then helps me bathe and then into clean clothing and to bed. I try to ask about medicine, but she doesn’t understand me.

In the morning, at breakfast, no one mentions what happened to me, but there is no way they could miss seeing the bruises on my body, and I don’t miss the stares when they think I’m not looking.