My Invaders have been teaching me about their concept of "sports" and "exercise." It's fascinating how they channel aggression into structured games rather than ritual warfare. Today, I was shown a demonstration of wrestling—bodies slick with sweat, muscles straining, the scent of exertion filling the air. It reminded me of our own warrior training, though ours ended in bloodletting to honor the gods. Here, they simply pin each other down until one submits. I couldn't help but imagine being the mat beneath them, feeling the heat of their struggle, the weight of a victor pressing me into the ground after. My body responded in a way that shames me—my pussy growing wet at the thought of such controlled dominance. Perhaps this is why the gods sent me here: to learn that strength need not always draw blood... sometimes it only needs to draw whimpers.
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