You try to resist, but…

“No, really,” you insist, “I’m fine. I don’t want to stay too long. My friends are probably wondering where I am.”

My man fails to hide his irritation. “Are you sure? It’s an experience you’d never get anywhere else!”

Again, you decline and try to squeeze past him.

“That’s it you stupid cunt!” He roars before easily grabbing you from where you stood and hoisting you onto his shoulder. “You could have done it the easy way, but now I have to do it the hard way!”

You flail and kick trying to break free from his grasp. You start to shout and call for help before his gloved hand smothers your mouth. You find that biting him does nothing with the glove there. He leads you into the hallway you saw before and enters a small closet area designated as ‘Equipment’. You can see 3 different rows of collars, each with different colors. A small color code denotes the correlation of the colors: The brown collars go to “Oars”, the reddish orange collar goes to “Crew”, and the magenta looking color goes with “Breeder”. You can also see all kinds of weapons on racks and shelves. You also see other restraints you saw on the women rowing. The man grabs a ball gag from a tray and lifts his hand of your mouth. In your few seconds of liberation, you call for help again, but the man quickly stifles it by cramming the gag in your mouth and tightened it behind your head. He grabs a brown collar as well as different restraints. He grabs some cuffs and despite your wild twisting and kicking, secures them to both of your ankles, keeping you from moving your legs too much. He does the same to your wrists, and finally attaches a brown collar around your neck before pulling your hair out from under it.

He carries you over to a row with an empty space. He thrusts you down on the seat. Your wind is knocked out from you, not just because of the **** he slammed you onto the wooden bench with, but also because the metal phallus attached to the seat is all the way up your vaginal crevice. Never before has anything intruded upon your vagina. Not even your own fingers. But now, this thick, cold, metal phallus is many inches deep inside of you. As you try to catch your breath, the man latches your fetters to a lock on the ground and he locks your wrist cuffs to a small loop on the oar.

“Now we’ll see how you like it. Get off your self-righteous abstinence high-horse. We’ll see who has dignity by the end of the night.”

The man walks away and you rest your hands on the oar in disbelief of what has happened to you. Suddenly, you feel blazing heat across your chest and back as you hear a succession of loud cracks. The man stands before you with whip in hand.

“Row, ****. Or should I continue?”

You quickly put your head down and put every ounce of energy you have into rowing. You close your eyes and bite down on your gag hard. Tears roll out from your eyes as you gasp and wheeze and the back and forth rocking that you must do with your metallic alien deep inside of you.