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[Erenisch] Novella.

Special: The Main Ingredient​


“Are the maid-cunts ready?”

“Yes Sir,” nodded Beatrice, as the small group watched the helicopter descend to the pad. “I prepped seven of our best protocol virgins to attend to our guest’s needs, and 13 more in case she requests replacements or…”

Cyrus Savarkar waved his hand to shut the young sexretary up and walked towards the now landed helicopter. Two slavegirls in uniform rushed to the vehicle ahead of him to assist their guest get off.

“Miss DiFotze,” the portly man exclaimed with opened arms. The tall woman jumped out with a stern expression on her face, pulled three platin-blonde puppygirls out of the cabin and handed their leashes to one of the slavegirls.

“Mr Savarkar,” she greeted with the least friendly voice imaginable. She threw a quick glance at the coy looking sexretary standing next to him, and turned her attention to the huge facility rising behind the welcoming committee.

“So, this is where the magic happens, eh? The home of the world-famous Stallion Milk!

“Yes Ma’am,” the man responded deferentially. “We are incredibly honored by your visit. The staff is very excited too. They cannot wait to meet the illustrious Maria DiFotze, now our biggest shareholder.”

Beatrice pursed her lips. It was the first time she had seen her boss speak to a woman in such a respectful tone. Of course, Maria was not just a woman. She was the daughter of the richest man in the world, Hermann DiFotze, owner of countless mega corporations, and if the rumors to be believed, a few smaller nations on the map. He wasn’t Pussianan by birth, yet he owned most of the country and a decisive portion of its politicians anyway.

As a woman, Maria was an anomaly. Unlike her father, she had Pussianan citizenship through her mother, and she spent most of her time in the country. She lived her life in full throttle, partying non-stop, leaving a path of destruction behind her. She was always followed by a small private army of bodyguards and a baggage train of paparazzi, but she was also rumored to “go incognito slumming” from time to time. People often claimed to spot her crashing neighborhood parties, visiting so-called “garage-brothels,” and playing with cheap “lawn-whores.” Some even accused her and her inner circle of friends for organizing illegal raperaids in lower income areas.

Beatrice had no idea if any of that was true or not. Perhaps all that stuff was fabricated by the media to denigrate the strong-willed woman? Protected by her family’s money and clout, Maria was practically untouchable after all, and the only way to attack her was to write lies about her. Regardless, the sexretary could clearly see the effect the woman created around her. She looked, talked, and walked like a goddess. Even the fat fuck who treated all the females around him as cheap fuckmeat was magically transformed into a scared kitty in her presence.

Savarkar was not a total psycho like many others Beatrice served under, but he was not a nice man either. He raped her regularly, of course, and other bareneck femployees too, but Beatrice didn’t mind. Sexual relief was one of her functions clearly listed in her job description, and the man wasn’t a beater. He was often easily satisfied with a quick throating.

“This is Beatrice Jument, my personal ass-instant,” introduced the man suddenly, making the young sexretary jump in panic. “She prepared twenty virgins to attend to your needs during your visit. Please feel free to let her know if you require anything else. She’ll be more than happy to assist you in any way possible.”

“How do you do, ma’am?” she curtsied. Maria’s gaze barely touched her big hazel puppy eyes and moved on. This disappointed the sexretary. She felt silly for hoping to impress the woman with her "begging for blowjob" face.

“I don’t think I’ll stay that long,” she said and started to walk towards the facility. “I’m not interested in seeing a bunch of stallions mounting phantom-mares or being sucked off by machines. I just want to see my ‘donations’ in action.” She turned to Savarkar without breaking pace. “I trust you have already put them to use. The pictures you sent me looked a bit… how should I put it? Staged?”

“I assure you ma’am,” Savarkar answered hastily, “they are all in there, taking real cocks. Big ones… The biggest ones we have in our stables, actually. The photos were taken by our PR department. They probably tried to make the process look a bit more humane than it really is. Force of habit.”

“Very good,” said Maria. “The more inhuman the process is, the more satisfying it becomes.”

Something in the woman’s voice made Beatrice shiver. Was that how pure evil sounded like?

When the news about DiFotze buying the majority shares in the company broke a couple months ago, Beatrice was excited like the rest of the staff. The company wasn’t doing well at all at the time, constantly losing chunks of its small market share to its bigger competitors like Swiney’s and DoggieJizz, so when DiFotzes decided to pour their endless money into their coffers, everybody was relieved.

Beatrice didn’t think this would change anything at first. Immediately after the move, DiFotzes started to make unusual demands. One of the most important ones was creating a special product line that implemented real women as “jump-mares,” instead of the usual mechanized phantom sperm-extractors. The new product was to be called “All-Natural StallionMilk” and marketed as such, the main ingredient fully extracted by use of slavegirls.

Of course, the process was far from being “natural.” First and foremost, it was slow, inefficient, and difficult to implement. But also, anybody with half a brain could predict that it would create extra costs because of the high AFT rates and rapid turnover of broodmares. Regardless, the stallions seemed to like the girls better than the phantom mounts.

Difotzes didn’t just pump money into the operation, but also provided some ‘material support’ as well. The first batch of fuckmeat for the new section was sent by Maria DiFotze herself. Some staff members immediately recognized former friends and foes of the infamous socialite among the arriving slaves, which perpetuated the rumor that Maria was using the StallionMilk program to punish females who wronged her in the past.

Beatrice didn’t give any credence to that rumor at all… Not until she heard the cold disdain in the woman’s voice just a moment ago.

“We built a special facility for ‘natural extraction’ of the main component,” explained Savarkar as they turned the corner and a rustic looking two-storey building was revealed. The sign above the gate read “DiFotze Ranch.” The man looked into the woman’s eyes carefully to see if Maria was pleased, but she appeared completely unimpressed by the naming gesture. “We made it look like old-school stables, with wooden panels, dirt floor, classic jugs, all that stuff you requested. We also built a small field hospital for the broodmares. The process takes quite a toll on their bodies. We treat them over there when they are rendered unfuckable.” He stopped when a slight frown appeared on Maria’s face. “I hope you don’t have a problem with that.”

“No,” she replied after thinking for a few seconds. “I trust you put them back in jump-mare duty as soon as their holes are restored?”

“Of course,” Savarkar grinned. “We never waste viable fuckmeat here.” He slapped Beatrice on the butt. She forced a smile.

They arrived at the entrance of the special stables. the sexretary perked up and took a deep breath. She had played an active role in the process of creating this new section of the facility, but she had never visited it in person. The impressions relayed by the femployees who had seen it were always scary, so she expected to see hell beyond those big wooden doors.

Uniformed slavegirls opened the gates for the visitors to enter. A cacophony of muffled screams and moans welcomed the group immediately. Apart from that terrifying detail, the place looked normal, like a classic stable as Savarkar described. A wide, seemingly endless corridor divided the building into two, with spacious wooden stalls lining up on either side. The foreman welcomed them at the gate and led them to one of the stalls.

Beatrice froze in shock. Eyewitness stories weren’t exaggerated at all. If anything, they didn’t reflect the real horror these poor women were facing.

The first thing the sexretary saw as soon as they arrived was a heavily bruised round bottom glowing with purplish red color. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the gaping orifice, filled to the brim with viscous white stuff. Cum flowed down her legs into a sack, which funneled it into a metal jug beneath her tied legs. The poor mare’s fuckhole was barely recognizable. It took the young sexretary a few seconds to understand which orifice she was looking at.

“We prefer assrapes,” explained the foreman as he circled the naked woman tightly bound onto a metal frame that provided easy assess to her genital area. “Jump-mares last longer that way. AFT rates increase dramatically if the primary is utilized.”

“Very good,” said Maria and walked around to look at the heavily raped woman’s face.

“Ah!” she smiled. “Hello, Leena. Long time no see.” This made the bound woman shudder. Beatrice couldn’t see the captive's face from where she was standing, but she could see the poor woman violently struggle against her restraints. She also muttered something nasty into her oversized gag, but that desperate act only widened Maria’s victorious grin.

The rumors were true. These women were not just jump-mares whose sole function was to extract horse semen.

They were Maria DiFotze’s enemies being punished for some slight.

“A former acquaintance of mine,” she giggled when Savarkar looked at her with questioning eyes. Apparently even the boss wasn’t aware of the true purpose of this program. She turned to the foreman, ignoring the effect of the revelation created among the group. “I understand this one was utilized recently. How long do you have to wait before she can be raped again?”

“Two hours, sometimes three,” replied the man. We have to drain her fully first. Then we apply the necessary ointments to the fuckhole for quick recuperation, inject her with stimulants…If our resident fem-vets greenlight it, we bring in another stallion and repeat the process. One jump-mare can extract 6 full loads a day on average. Up to 8, if we don’t let them sleep. Roughly a liter.”

“Wonderful!” exclaimed DiFotze. That haughty, indifferent bitch-face she had when she arrived was now gone. Her blue eyes glowed with infernal joy. “I guess Leena here will be taking a break now. Can I see another one in action?”

“Of course”, said the man, “please follow me.”

They passed a number of stalls which contained one or two women each, some recently well-pounded and oozing semen, some being prepped to be mounted soon. They finally arrived at a two-girl stall where a black stallion was getting ready to meet his bride for the day. He faced a tough choice. On the left side lay a young redhead, with short hair, slender body, and big fearful eyes. Next to her lay an athletic beauty with raven hair that matched the groom’s mane. Both were heavily restrained and tied down on a metal frame with leather-covered attachments for the big boy to rest his forelegs on.

“Perfect!” exclaimed Maria when she recognized the duo. The two recognized her back. Just like Leena, they struggled in their unforgiving fuckframes and shouted unintelligible cursewords into their gags.

“May I present Excavator, one of our best,” introduced the man proudly and pointed at the slender redhead. “He was about to mount number 67 here. She is a very g-”

“No!” interrupted Maria. “This one. I want him to rape this one.”

“I’m sorry, but she’s still recuperating,” the foreman said. “She took a big one only 20 minutes ago. We just finished draining her, so…”

“I don’t care,” said Maria. “I want that monster mount this one and fuck her as violently as possible.”

The foreman turned to Savarkar in confusion. “But she could-”

“Don’t worry about her,” Maria assured. “You’ll have 160 more broodmares before the stud is finished with this worthless cunt. The trucks are on their way.”

This news made Savarkar smile. He nodded to the foreman, who commanded his men to redirect Excavator toward the raven haired woman. Beatrice looked at the poor thing in the eyes, expecting to see terror and despair. Instead, she saw pure hatred and no tears.

“This is great,” said Maria as the horse climbed over the frame and penetrated the restrained young woman with the help of his handlers. She then turned and scanned the accompanying group. “You, the ass-instant,” she said after a brief evaluation, pointing at Beatrice. “Come here and get down on your knees. You’ll lick my pussy while I’m enjoying this spectacle.”

“Yes ma’am,” she replied coyly. “It will be my pleasure.”


View attachment 1557413
Thanks for posting were there any extra drawings she did for this one?
 
Yeah she did update a few. I only asked about the main Ingredient because I checked the post (but couldn’t see it) and she seemed to include 4 sketches for that story.
 

The Journey - 32​


Nora thought she had seen everything since she arrived in this dystopian hellhole weeks ago. She had seen slavegirls being casually raped in broad daylight, she had seen leashed petgirls dragged around naked on the street, she had walked through giant marts selling nothing but fuckmeat of all ages and types…

In the very beginning she was shocked again and again by infuriating scenes of mundane cruelty female citizens of Pussiana were subjected to every second of their lives. The humiliation was constant and overwhelming, so she gradually went numb to it after a while. Marcel too was taking his camera out less and less frequently. She began to understand how the population of this country, male and female alike, turned into a bunch of emotionless, heartless zombies. The incessant bombardment of sexual imagery and the relentless justification of it by the state apparatus made all that insanity “normal.” Not at all shocking once your senses were saturated by it.

That is what she thought, before she had stepped foot on the “tasting grounds” of the Harvest Festival. In this place, women were not simply being mistreated and abused.

They were nothing but cattle, in human female form.

Even Melody seemed rattled by what she had seen. Nora knew of course, that their ministry-appointed guide was sheltered by her father from the harsh realities of northern girlfarming and the annual Harvest Festival that celebrated it… But still, she was born and raised around here. She had attended school alongside girls like these, she had met them at the local diner, seen them around town… She probably had seen them getting abused and raped in public even. But it was obvious from the shock in her widened eyes that the blonde had never been to the rapegrounds where the farmers brought out their merchandize to be “tested and tasted” by potential buyers.

Melody’s father accompanied them as they entered the Thoreau Ranch, but soon left them in the middle of an endless sea of tents and stalls in order to set up his own area for his six daughters. Nora was relieved to see him leave. She didn’t like the man at all, and she wanted to explore the place freely. She was going to meet the rancher who was in charge of the place in an hour and listen to him ramble about the boring stuff anyway. Until then, she was hoping to talk to a few of the… cows?

She just didn’t know where to start. Perhaps what she should do was to walk into a random stall, find a girl who doesn’t have a cock lodged in her throat at that moment, and start asking questions.

“Miss Jasiri? Nora Jasiri?”

Nora loked around to find an excited looking blonde woman in early twenties, accompanied by cameramen of her own.

“Oh my god!” she exclaimed when Nora turned to her. “It is actually you! Oh my fucking god!”

“Hello?” she said in confusion as the young woman rushed toward her. She was surprised to see another dressed female in this place. Her clothes looked revealing and had all those easy access flaps and zippers, but she looked untouched. “Have we met before?” Nora asked as the other extended her hand to shake hers.

“I wish,” the woman smiled. “I know all about you. I’ve seen most of your interviews. Just awesome-awesome stuff! Big fan!”

“A fan? I didn’t expect to be recognized in this place, to be honest,” smiled Nora nervously. “You must be the only Pussianan who knows who I am, Miss…”

“Braucht! Elsa Braucht!” introduced the other. “So sorry, of course…” Her voice went down to a barely audible whisper. “I shouldn’t publicly admit to having seen broadcasts from pre-slavery countries, I guess,” she said with a mischievous smile. “In journalism school, we used to smuggle in some tapes and stuff, and…”

“A fellow journalist? interjected Nora. “Wait a second. Braucht, yes! I think I saw a billboard with your name on it.”

“Oh my god!” the blonde yelled with replenished excitement. “Nora Jasiri have heard my name! Yesyesyesyesyes! I have my own show. Just this little thing. It’s called Miss Braucht on the Road. I travel to places and… you know…” She opened her arms and pointed at the crowds of men wandering about the rapegrounds. “Oh my lord! You are here to report on the festival too?”


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Nora nodded. “Yes. It will be a documentary. About Pussiana and the androcracy in general, but the Ministry gave us special permission to attend the festival. So we thought…” She pointed to Melody. “Our guide Miss Svinina grew up here. We have been staying at her family ranch, in order to see how a girlfarm works.”

“It’s so exciting, isn’t it?” Elsa said. “I have been doing the same thing. I spent a full day at the Cerdo farm, talked to the girls, slept on shelves, ate pigslop, milked animals, even done some blowjob training with them. You know, the usual farm stuff.”

“The usual stuff?” smiled the other. “Wait… did you say Cerdo?”

“Yes, Cerdo Farm. Down the road.”

“Did you happen to meet an Abby Lynn there?”

“Yes! Abby Lynn Cerdo,” exclaimed the blonde. “She’s one of the cows to be auctioned off tomorrow. You’ve met her too?”

“No, not yet,” Nora smiled. “But we have a common friend.”

“I can’t believe I met Nora Jasiri here,” the blonde hopped in joy. “You know what we should do? Join forces, exchange footage, maybe even interview each other too. I’d love to hear about your experiences here. Your impressions of our beautiful country and such…” She turned to Marcel and Melody and performed a lewd hand gesture. “Then we can relax with a nice long gangbang afterwards. Do you guys have rapemeat? I gladly volunteer, if you’re game.”

“Thank you,” smiled Nora, “An exchange of ideas and impressions is a great idea. I’d be honored to talk to a fellow colleague, of course.” She was immediately taken by the charming blonde with a barely discernible foreign accent. The girl’s jovial attitude was refreshing, even though it was completely out of place in this infernal landscape. But somehow, she didn’t appear to be batshit insane. Perhaps it was merely a coping mechanism, Nora thought.

She chose to ignore the casual “rapemeat for a friendly gangbang” offer of course. A few weeks ago, such a suggestion would have shocked and angered her. Not any more.

To the contrary… the idea actually got her wet. She couldn’t help but imagine the charming blonde without her clothes. She was, without a doubt, a mouth-watering piece of fuckmeat.

“What’s next?” the girl asked excitedly. “What are you going to do? Talk to some of the girls, ranchers, customers? I’m sorry, I still can’t believe you’re here. The idea of seeing a master in action is… it’s like a dream come true for me.”

“Thank you,” said the Saharan once more, now totally under the spell of the girl’s positive attitude. “Yes, I guess I’ll do just that, in that order. What about you?”

“Oh!” exclaimed the blonde. “My show is a bit different. You see, I travel around the land, sometimes visit other androcratic countries, and immerse myself in the local culture and traditions.”

“Is it a travel show?” asked Nora.

“Kind of. I’ll be a cow for the day.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ll be a cow, do the ‘tasting’ thing. Mr Cerdo kindly agreed to put me in a stall with his daughters for the day. I’ll be stripped down, leashed, and chained like these girls. I’ll be beaten and raped all day. It will be a full experience.”

Nora froze. She was wrong before. She wasn’t completely numb to the insanity she was surrounded by.

“Here he comes,” said the blonde, pointing to the rancher walking towards them. “I think I’ll be serving cocks till sundown. Perhaps we can talk again after my inevitable Fem-Vet visit. If I’m still conscious and able to walk, of course. Say ten-ish?”

“Sure,” Nora stammered, still unable to cope with the idea. She stepped back once the old rancher arrived and Elsa’s two cameramen began filming.

“Master Cerdo,” greeted the blonde deferentially. Nora noted the immediate change in her strange colleague’s tone. “Thank you for accepting this slut to your herd. Such a great honor. Please treat me the way you treat your cows. Don’t hold back in any way. We want it to be as real as possible.”

The man looked at the Saharans for half a second, which made a befuddled Nora take another step back. He then turned to Elsa and landed a hard slap on her left cheek. “Take off your dress!” he ordered with a surprisingly soft voice.

“Yes Sir!” the girl stammered and quickly slid out of her mini dress. Her speed was impressive, but her exceptionally beautiful naked form was what struck Nora. She managed to take another step back when the rancher hit Elsa again. “On your hands and knees!”

Elsa let out a pained squeal and immediately went down on all-fours like a good petgirl. A crowd was slowly gathering around them now. Passersby were starting to realize who the blonde was.


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Nora snapped out of her trance only when Cerdo placed a heavy metal collar around the young woman’s slender neck and flicked the large cowbell attached to it. She turned to Marcel to tell him to start filming the scene unfolding before them. He was doing it already.

The rancher bent over to slap his new cow once more and ordered her to follow. He turned around and walked towards a tent with his name all over it. Elsa obediently followed on her hands and knees. Her graceful sway and swift pace was a dead give-away of her extensive experience in bitchwalking.

A mesmerized Nora looked on as the girl was led into a stall and chained to the wooden fence. She then signalled Marcel to move in and record the girl’s first facerape that immediately followed. A line of excited fans formed quickly in front of her and a smiling Elsa started to perform fellatio without hesitation.

Nora watched a couple of men finish in her colleague’s mouth. Elsa swallowed her reward every time, properly thanked her rapist, and enthusiastically received the next one without complaint. The Saharan was unable to avert her gaze from the spectacle for a long time.

A tap on the shoulder. “I found Abby Lynn.” She turned to Melody who was pointing to another stall at end of the row. “You said you wanted to talk to her, right? That blonde cow over there.”

“Yes, thank you,” said Nora. “I’ll… I’ll talk to her, sure. But I think we should focus on Miss Braucht here… just for a little while.”
 

Special: Third Time's The Charm​

Part (1 of ?)

The building was made out of cheap materials that provided no noise isolation. One could clearly hear everything that happened in the neighboring rooms or in the common area outside. On one side, several friends were playing some kind of boardgame. On the other side, a girl was being raped by an unknown number of assailants.

Despite the ruckus around them she managed to silence her thoughts and relax a bit after a few minutes. She dabbled in meditation all her life, studied relaxation techniques, and even attended some special retreats, so she developed the ability to tune out the world whenever she needed. The techniques she learned and practiced for so long helped her concentrate better and made her one of the top performers in her class.

She slowed down and opened her eyes timidly to look at the boy’s face when he moved his legs unexpectedly. His eyes were closed. He looked content. Relieved, she continued to suck his cock at medium pace. She wasn’t ordered to bring him to climax after all. It was a “soft-and-slow.”

She knew she wasn’t the ideal fuckslave, but she considered herself an above-average cocksucker. She had a lot of practice since she arrived, voluntarily and involuntarily, like every female in this country of course. More importantly, she enjoyed it most of the time. Giving head was a good way to clear one’s head. Blowjobs could often be repetitive enough to be considered as a form of meditation, especially when the cocksucker was given some agency and freedom to perform the way she wanted.

Men rarely let it happen, of course. More often than not, blowjobs turned into violent skullfucking towards the end. She didn’t like that part at all.

She checked his face again. He was still relaxed and enjoying it.

She closed her eyes and continued to serve dutifully. Her position was far from optimal. It was rather hard to maintain her balance with her wrists tied at the back, and the cheap carpet was chafing her knees with every bob of her head. Still, she didn’t mind the discomfort. She wasn’t important. The only thing that mattered was his pleasure.

She owed him. Her life was his.

It was now official too.

Her eyes immediately shifted to the single page document that lay on the bed. It was her “ownership certificate.” The title deed to her body, now reduced to nothing but a 20-year old piece of mediocre fuckmeat. He had downloaded and printed it out a few minutes ago, before ordering her to suck his cock.

She was property. She had a new owner, a new name, and a new purpose.

All those unsettling thoughts creeping back in her mind… She shook them off again by concentrating on the big fat dick between her full lips. No teeth… her tongue massaging from below… up and down… up and down… up and down…

He let out a barely audible groan. She felt a tiny jolt of elation filling her brain. She continued to serve with greater enthusiasm and passion. Her new function in life was to give him pleasure. Nothing but pleasure and satisfaction. She mustn’t fail. Not again.

Never again!

She shuddered when regret hit her like a mental slap. She had been a stupid bitch. A stupid, ungrateful, no good whore. She deserved the horrible hell she almost found herself in. It was pure luck that she was rescued at the last second. It must have been divine intervention, an impossible cosmic accident that gave her this miraculous second chance. Somehow, universe was too kind to her in the end, even though she managed to ruin the best thing in her life.

“You may pick up the pace,” he said softly and brushed a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. She immediately started to go faster and deeper. It took her fifteen seconds to bring him to a climax. He unloaded in her mouth with a loud groan of pleasure. She gladly swallowed her reward without hesitation.

When finished, she sat back on her heels and waited. She had no proper slave training and had no inkling about what she should do or say after utilization. If she were a bareneck, she would have climbed on top oh him and sit on his cock, probably. She desperately needed him to penetrate her at that moment. She wanted her knight in shining armor to screw her brains out. But she wasn’t a bareneck any more. Her thoughts, emotions, needs and desires meant nothing. She was a mere toy to be played with, not a human with her own will.

So she knelt silently, waiting for her next command.

He sat up straight and looked into her pretty eyes for a moment, which immediately made her avert her gaze and look down. It wasn’t the expression on his face, but the shame and guilt she felt.

“I’m so sorry,” she mumbled.

“No,” he said. “It was very good. I liked it a lot.”

They weren’t talking about the same thing, obviously, but she was relieved that her oral service was satisfactory.

She swooned and exhaled when he stroke her hair gently.

“Get up. Come sit on my lap.”

She hesitated for a moment, and stood up clumsily. Her hands were still tied at her back and her body wasn’t used to it yet. She gently sat on his left thigh. He wrapped his arm around her naked body and cupped her left breast. She gasped with a mixture of shame and desire.

He picked the BFA-issued female ownership certificate with his free hand.

“You didn’t say anything about the servonym I picked for you,” he said. “What do you think, Yummydummy?”

“I think,” she started timidly, “my opinion doesn’t really matter. I’m just a sex slave, and…”

“You’re not just a slave,” babe,” he said. “You’ll be my wife soon. As soon as I find the money for the marriage permit, I’ll take you to the Registrar’s.”

“Oh god!” she exhaled and started to sob uncontrollably. “You’re being so good to me. I don’t deserve such kindness! After all I had done, you’re-”

“Hush!” he interrupted and swept her tears away. “You made some bad decisions. That’s why I put the dummy in your servonym.” he smiled. “Well, that and the Registry kept declining the more flattering servonyms I came up with. What was it, seven rejections? Apparently there is some kind of algorithm that overrules names that aren’t humiliating enough. We are lucky the word ‘dummy’ wasn’t too mild for them.”

“I love it,” she sniffled. “I love Yummydummy. It’s just… It’s too flattering for an ungrateful dumb cunt like me. You should have called me just that, actually. Dumbcunt! Dumbcuntwhoreingratemoronbitch. Fits much better.”

“Come ooon,” he chuckled. “You’re being too hard on yourself. I won’t even call you Yummydummy, babe. It’s just for the Registry, or for formal occasions or whatever. To me you’ll always be Shivani. I just love the sound of your name. It’s soothing music to my ears.”

He held her chin and kissed her on the lips. She immediately melted in his arms.

“Now,” he said after a long mind-wiping make-out. “I’m sure you’re wondering, what’s going to happen now?”

“Yes” mumbled Shivani. “Jay… he… I mean, I was enslaved only yesterday. My life didn’t really change. Just this band.” She touched the metallic button at the center of her BFA choker. “I think… I’ll have to pick up my stuff from my dorm, cancel the utilities and stuff, cancel my college meal plan… Oh my god! there are so many things I must do! We see girls getting enslaved and don’t even think about all that stuff they leave behind. I never really thought about that. What happens to their belongings?”

“Technically, the girl’s owner owns her belongings too, of course,” Frank shrugged. He then grabbed her by the waist and raised her, then placed her on his rock-hard cock. She let out a scream as the rod penetrated her fully. “But mostly, people loot the stuff they like and the rest end up in the landfill. And don’t worry about your regular payments and such. When you’re registered, the state takes care of all that. They have an efficient system in place. There’s a BFA sub-directorate, called ‘female repurposing facilitation services,’ or something like that.”

“Female repurposing?” she moaned as he moved her tight body up and down his shaft.

“Yes, see.” He stopped fucking her for a moment to pick up his phone, and logged on to his Registry account, then navigated to Shivani’s file. “Here. There’s a button next to your servonym. Says ‘activate full S2C transition.’ It terminates your financial obligations, transfers your possessions to your owner, replaces your birthname with your new servonym in all state records… You get the idea.”

“It basically declares me dead,” She said with trembling lips. “Oh god! It’s true. I’m… I’m dead.”

“Of course not, babe,” the boy chuckled and continued to fuck his new toy. “Your life doesn’t have to change in a drastic way. You can still attend classes and graduate, for example. I have no problem with that.”

“Thank you… master,” said Shivani with a grateful smile. Frank never specified the manner she should address him, but she wanted to call him “master” anyway. She wanted to get used to it as soon as possible. So far, it felt weird. Just yesterday, Frank was an ex-boyfriend who wasn’t in her mind. Today, he owned her.


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She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to switch to formal cuntspeak either. Calling Frank “master”was super easy compared to calling herself “this cunt.” The humiliation! She hoped he wouldn’t make her do that.

“But I’ll live here with you, right? To serve you better, I mean. I’ll be at your disposal, day and night.”

“Of course.” He smiled as he casually pulled out of her pussy and penetrated her asshole the next second. The hard rod tore her apart with surprising ease, despite the weak resistance her muscles put on initially. She suppressed a pained scream. It was the very first time a man ever entered her that way. She was surprised and confused for a long moment. “I guess you have a lot of questions about your new life,” he continued, seemingly oblivious to her pain.

She managed to nod.

“This entire thing was out of the blue for me too, you know,” he said. “I had no chance to think about it, so I cannot say how our schedule would look like right now. But of course, like every young man, I fantasized about having my own sex slave… a lot. And I had many fantasies about you. I even…” He stopped, seemingly embarrassed.

“Even what?” she asked coyly. She was getting used to getting fucked in the ass every passing minute. Perhaps her extensive experience in relaxation techniques was proving to be useful?

“You know, after you broke up with me… I was a bit… sad… angry… very angry. I kept daydreaming about you… sneaking into your dorm room, kidnapping you, raping and torturing you until you love me again. Silly, right? Just a fantasy of course.”

“Oh?” exhaled the girl. “I’m so sorry that I hurt you Frank… master. As I said before… I was a fool. A dumb bitch cunt moron.” She paused for a moment and looked into his eyes. “ I think… you should do it.”

“Do what?”

“Torture me. Beat me up. Every day and every night. Make it a part of our daily routine. Hurt me… Rape me… Then hurt me again… I think… You need to.” She swallowed and continued before he could react. “And I need it too.”

“I don’t know,” he said with a soft voice. “But the thought of hurting you, making you scream and cry… I’m ashamed to admit it, but it turns me on… so much. I think I always wanted to do it. Even more than I wanted to fuck you.”

“Yes! Please. Make me pay! Punish me! I’ll suffer for you. I want to suffer for you, Frank!”

He paused and looked at her for a spell. “You’ll call me master,” he said calmly. “And don’t worry. You’ll have your wish.”


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Special: Third Time's The Charm​

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The rest of the day was exhausting for Shivani. Propelled by the intense mixture of guilt and gratitude she felt, the college student-turned-slavegirl enthusiastically worked hard all day to please her gallant savior. She tidied up the dorm room and cleaned it from top to bottom, did his laundry, and prepared him snacks between rapes.

Frank proved to be insatiable in bed. He threeholed his eager whore three times throughout the day, and made her slowblow him in between. Shivani was more than happy to serve, feeling a strong urge to redeem herself. She found unexpected satisfaction in the act of relieving Frank while he studied, then again when he kicked back with a video game. These open-ended soft-and-slows quickly became her favorite activities as a fresh dormslave. She didn’t even mind the hard spankings that bookended them.

After another intense threeholing session, Frank decided to go out for a bite. He chose the pizza place they frequented while they were dating. The idea of returning to the place where she eventually dumped Frank made the girl a bit anxious. She was worried even further when Frank didn't untie her when they left the room.

Nevertheless, the experience turned out to be quite pleasant. The moment they entered the tacky joint, the smell of cheap oregano in the air grabbed them by the nose and threw them back in good times. They forgot all about the tempestuous events that transpired earlier.

Until a surprise guest arrived.

“Hello Frankie” greeted a beautiful blonde.

“Hello Una,” replied the boy. He stood up and kissed the girl. “Thank you for coming.”


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“So,” she said as he pulled her a chair, “who’s this?”

“This is Shivani. Remember? I told you all about her when we first met?”

“This is Shivani? Your ex? The one that got away?” Una asked, amused. She leaned over the table to shake the stunned brunette’s hand. Shivani reflexively attempted to respond, only to remember that her wrists were tied at her back. “Wait a minute! She is banded!” The blonde turned to the boy with a mischievous smile and play-punched him on the shoulder. “Naughty boy! What did you do?”

“Yes,” admitted Frank guiltily. “I bought her. She can’t get away now.” He chuckled.

“Wow!” exclaimed Una and turned to Shivani again. The slavegirl was still too shocked to say anything. She managed to nod to affirm the news after a few awkward seconds.

“Soooo, you called me here to break up with me, I guess?”

“I’m afraid so, babe. So sorry about this. You know, it came as a surprise to me too… but… I intend marry her as soon as I save the money for a permit.”

“A wife-slave, eh? That’s great!” chirped the other. “That’s a shame of course, but no hard feelings, Frankie. We said from the start that we were just having fun anyway.” She kissed the boy on the cheek. “Oh no! Wait a minute! Does this mean you won’t be taking me to Iggy’s birthday gangrape this Friday?”

“I can still take you,” said Frank. “Shivani won’t mind, do you sweetheart?”

Shivani shook her head no, still stupefied.

“She doesn’t talk much,” observed Una. “Did you forbid her from speaking or something?”

“No, I think she’s a bit confused, that’s all.” He slapped his forehead. “Ah! Of course… everything happened so fast, I never had the chance to mention you.” He opened his arms to gently stroke both girls’ cheeks simultaneously. “Shivani, this is Una Vikalp, my restricted regular.”

“Just say ‘girlfriend’ like a normal person, you jerk!” chuckled the blonde. “See, sweetheart, these assholes come up with such stupid neologisms just to objectify us sluts even further. I’m his restricted regular because he utilizes my holes regularly and nobody else can.” She paused and giggled. “Well, I guess that’s all you now, girlie.”

Shivani nodded with perplexed eyes.

Una found the other’s continued inability to speak quite amusing. She turned back to Frank again. “You know, even though I’m no longer your ‘restricted regular,’ you can still do me whenever you like. Until I find another hard one to suck on, of course.”

“Sure thing, babe,” Frank smiled.

“So, Shivani,” restarted the blonde. “How do you like the sex slave thing so far? Do you recommend it?”

Shivani froze. Her brain failed to find the proper response.

“I mean, I often think about it, you know. Finding my soulmate and surrendering to him? And by soulmate I mean handsome and rich, of course.” She winked. “This life, it’s too hard. I didn’t even want to attend college in the first place. My parents forced me to. They bought me a short term freedom permit and shipped me out here. It’s the only way to escape slavery for a girl like me, they said.” She threw her hands in the air and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right! They had no idea what the latest statistics say. I’ll tell you what will happen. I’ll graduate and find an office job in a big corporation in a couple years. Then the clock will start ticking, and I’ll probably be enslaved within five years like 83% of the clueless bimbos like me. If I somehow escape all the traps and loopholes, I’ll be too old and totally unfuckable in a decade, at which point my useless butt will be laid off. And after that, it’s either starve or survive on bum jizz, you know.”

“83 percent? I didn’t know it was that bad,” stammered Shivani.

“Aaah! she speaks!” Una smiled and slapped the brunette on the shoulder in a friendly manner. She certainly was a charmer, this strange girl. “Yes. 42% of girls are enslaved within their first year, actually. That’s last year's numbers, though. Must be even higher now. This place, it just delays the inevitable, I tell you.”

“Una is a statistics freak,” explained Frank. “She knows her stuff, believe me. Actually, that’s how we met. She somehow got her hands on the student database and applied some of her stat magic in order to compile a list of eligible bachelors in the campus. I guess I was high enough on that list, so she asked me out a few weeks ago.”

“You asked him out?” asked Shivani in disbelief.

“Sure. Frank was great on paper. Good grades, high intelligence, middle class family, not too violent, not too clingy, not too possessive, and good looking to boot. Has a nice dick, and his own car too. So I approached him at a party and sucked him off, then asked him to find and violate me when I least expected. Yeah, he was as surprised as you look right now, but three days later, he grabbed me on my way to class. Tied me up and stuffed me in the trunk of his car. Turns out he rented a cabin in the mountains just for the kidnapping. Made me his mindless fucktoy for an entire week. I missed a few classes but gained a great boyfriend in the end.”

“W-what? Frank did… what?”

“Hey!” yelled Una all of a sudden. “You should take Shivani there too, Frankie. It’s the perfect place to rape.”

“Perhaps I will,” said the young man.

“Perhaps he will,” repeated the girl with a big cheshire smile and put her face between her hands. “Tell me Shivani, why did you even dump this awesome boy in the first place? Momentary lapse in judgement? Brain worms?”

“I… I d-don’t know,” stammered the slavegirl. “I was still new here. The entire thing was very confusing. It was a big culture shock, you know. I felt overwhelmed.”

“Aaah!” exclaimed the other. “That’s right! You’re from Veshya, aren’t you? But why, Veshya isn’t a pre-slavery country, as far as I know?”

“It’s mixed,” replied the brunette. “Slavery is compulsory in some provinces and voluntary in others. Moreover, people don’t rape in public. It’s frowned upon, flaunting one’s possessions. Every house has its own private sex dungeon for female utilization. Generally underground, windowless and sound-proof.”

“Cool,” the other said. “I get it. Man, eastern cultures are so fascinating. It must be a lot more spiritually fulfilling, living your entire life chained in a windowless room, doing nothing but fulfilling your owner’s sexual needs. No distractions, no interruptions, no complications… just a cock to serve.”

Shivani nodded.

“I just watched a documentary on Jinü traditions,” Una continued. “They are technically a pre-slavery culture… still, at this day and age, if you can believe it… but they have a rich history of objectification, commodification, and utilization of their womenfolk. Did you know that men can use any Jinü woman they want, anywhere, anytime? No exceptions. If they like you, they can rape you right there and then. You just serve until they are satisfied and then go about your business. Isn’t that just wonderful?”

“Yes, I knew that,” said Shivani, “but you know… Veshyans and Jinü are two entirely different peo-“

“Sure, but basically the same though, right? I mean, you know. Anyway, are you guys going to do it that way? The Veshyan way, I mean.”

“No, we… master had something else in mind,” Shivani said timidly, throwing a glance at Frank for confirmation. “I’ll continue to attend my classes as usual. The remainder of my time, I’ll be serving him of course. In every way that I can. Indoors, outdoors, wherever he wants.”

“Sweet deal! And you’re so sweet too. It’s kinda hot imagining you moaning under Frank’s hard rod.” She fondled Shivani’s cheek and turned to Frank with begging puppy eyes. “All this rape-talk made me so wet, Frankie. If you’re gonna do her after this, may I join for a round or two? Would be proper send-off, eh? What do you say?”
 

Mystery - 6​


Selena wanted to stop Eddie, but she was unable to say anything. He quickly closed the lid of the old freezer and went back to the door, resolved to barge in and save the unidentified young girl from her captor. The man looked in his early twenties. He was older and slightly larger than Eddie, and Selena wasn’t sure if her teenager boss could overpower the villain even with the surprise factor on his side. The thought of him getting hurt made her shiver. She couldn’t let anything bad happen to the only good thing she had in her life since…

The moment they met on the dreaded stairs of the BFA building that fateful day, the young boy made a positive impression on the newly-retired slavecop. His devotion to his girlfriend Stephanie and his tireless pursuit to save her was something Selena had never seen in her life. That cute little blonde was not just an easily replaceable piece of fuckmeat for him. He genuinely loved her, and did everything he could to take her back. Selena respected him for that, and eventually grown to love him too. Not like Stephanie Prancer, certainly, but she loved him and desired him all the same.

As they searched for Stephanie, they bonded in ways Selena could have never imagined. She became the young man’s mentor, employee, comrade, and occasional fucktoy. She enjoyed serving him sexually. He was the only man she knew who actually deserved a female’s unlimited devotion. Even after the "happy" ending of their first adventure, she continued to join the reunited couple in their marriage bed frequently, becoming an unofficial member of Eddie’s unconventional harem. She loved her new life. She finally had a family, a group of friends she felt safe with, and a generous master who fucked her regularly. No undeserved beatings, no constant humiliation... just unlimited orgasms.



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And the best part of this was that she no longer served that evil machine known as the Slavery Enforcement and Fugitive Retrieval Unit of the BFA. No more scared looks in the young girls’ eyes when she passed by in her skimpy blue and whites, no self-paralysing guilt every time she heard a pained scream echoing around BFA corridors, no annoying warble of the twin engines of a-

… a Cunthound?

She took her head out of the window and looked up. The all too familiar sound of a SEFR aerial patrol vehicle got closer and closer. She felt cold all of a sudden. They hadn’t contacted the authorities, so how could they know…

She bowed down to warn Eddie. “Boss! The SEFR… they are here,” she whispered.

Eddie was already on her way out. He had heard the vehicle approaching too, and so had the kidnapper in the adjoining room. He quickly climbed out and followed Selena to the treeline. They found a big rock to hide behind before the uninvited visitors arrived.

“I didn’t contact them,” Selena said as they watched a single Cunthound hover around and scan the cabin, before eventually landing in the clearing behind it.

“Perhaps they were investigating the same disappearing case, and somehow tracked the guy here?” said Eddie. “Check the video feeds. Are the girls still there?”

“Yes Sir. All accounted for.”

“Maybe they didn’t get Posrednik. Or they did, but he didn’t give his merchandise up. We know that he keeps them in multiple locations, so…”

The door of the Cunthound opened with a screech and interrupted Eddie. “The agent will probably send in his A-S ahead.” guessed Selena. “They always do.”

But a middle-aged male figure emerged out of the vehicle instead of the graceful silhouette of an agent-slave. Once he left the shadow of the vehicle, they realized that he was not in uniform. He immediately drew his sidearm, kicked the door in, and disappeared into the cabin. Muffled struggle noises and a loud crash was heard. Selena raised the binoculars hanging from her neck in an attempt to see what was going on. The cabin was as dark and unwilling to reveal its secrets as before. She turned her attention to the Cunthound instead.

“No A-S in the flyer,” she commented confusedly. “That’s odd. He wasn’t wearing a uniform either. Maybe he w-”

Before she could finish her thought, the big man emerged from the cabin with the bound naked girl on his shoulder. He unlocked the hatch at the back and dropped the well-raped captive in the slave-compartment of the Cunthound. The two private investigators watched in confusion as he jumped back in the vehicle and took off without wasting another second.



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“He didn’t arrest the guy?” asked Eddie as they stood up and watched the vehicle disappear in the distance.

“Everything about this is fishy, Sir” said Selena. “This isn’t proper SEFR work. The girl, she isn’t a slave on the run, she’s a kidnapped freewoman. But he dragged her out naked and bound. He got in and got out in a few minutes, ignoring established siege protocol. No A-S, no uniform, no back-up. I bet he is dirty.”

“Do you recognize him?”

“No, he must be from the Northern Precinct. Maybe I can find out who he is. I jotted down the Cunthound’s number.” She picked up his phone to run a search.

“Do that,” said Eddie and set out towards the cabin. “I’ll get back in there and see if I can get anything out of the other asshole.”

He sneaked in through the broken front door and looked around. The place had nothing but a couple of old chairs, a mattress, and a couple of boxes full of rusty tools. He tiptoed around the trash scattered around the floor and finally found what he was looking for at the top of the basement stairs.

The kidnapper they followed from the warehouse was lying on the floor with a weird expression on his face. It was a young man in his early twenties, wearing a black hoodie and frayed jeans.

“He was literally caught with his pants down,” commented Selena, pointing at his unbuckled belt.

“I told you to stay outside,” said Eddie. “You shouldn’t be in here.”

“It’s okay, boss,” she dismissed with a hand wave and crouched down next to the kidnapper’s head. Her eyes scanned him until she found a puncture wound on the left side of his neck. “GPAC dart. That agent… if he was an agent, of course… He shot him with a standard tranq-gun. He remembered to remove the dart before he left too. He’s covering his tracks. I was right before. This wasn’t an official rescue. He just robbed the thief. Stole stolen merchandise.”

Eddie nodded. A corrupt BFA agent breaking the law in such a brazen manner wasn’t the least bit surprising to either of them.

“This asshole will lie paralyzed for four, maybe five hours,” continued the platinum blonde and tapped the man on the forehead. “He is still conscious in there, but he cannot move or talk. He cannot answer our questions even if he wanted to.”

“That’s okay,” said Eddie and reached into the guy’s pocket to fish out his phone. He unlocked it by pressing the paralyzed man’s thumb on the scanner, and immediately accessed his BFA Registry app.

“Alright. This is Mr Tomas Zlochinek. 22 years old.” He clicked on a few buttons. “Never owned a female so far, but he has… seventeen young women on his watchlist… and it seems most are strawberry blondes between the ages of 18 and 20.”

“Is our client-”

“She’s not one of them,” interrupted Eddie. “This girl at the top of the list… A Kelly Milis, 18-years old, recently had her PI and received a freedom permit. I’m almost positive that she was the victim. Body markers detailed here match what I had seen earlier.”

“So, it’s a dead-end,” pouted Selena.

“Not necessarily. While he was fucking the girl downstairs, I heard him mention that his cousin found this Posrednik guy, and he bought a girl for himself too.” He returned his attention to the phone and continued to click around the man’s apps and contact lists. “Ah! There he is. Simon Zlochinek. Looks like they have been texting each other about this little criminal project of theirs. Not even trying to obfuscate it with code-words or innuendos, the imbeciles.” He scrolled down for a while, until his face was brightened up suddenly. “Bingo!” he exclaimed and handed the phone to Selena.

Selena immediately recognized the young girl with terror in her teary eyes and a fat cock in her mouth. It was a low-resolution photo of Della Felenk, their client’s lost sister, stripped, bound, and caged in a dark basement. The ex-slavecop swiped through a number of blurry snapshots of the scared young girl being forced to serve her captor before handing the phone back to her boss.

“They had been exchanging ideas about torturing these girls,” she commented.

“These messages are from 4 days ago. I guess Della was ‘delivered’ not too long before this exchange. Still looks relatively healthy and untouched here. Not a lot of bruises, accept the redness on her left cheek.”

“She must be covered in them now, if his cousin took his suggestions,” commented Selena with a frown. She was momentarily tempted to push the man down the stairs. “What are we going to do with him?” she asked.

Eddie froze in thought for a few seconds. “We cannot let him regain mobility before we find his cousin. We cannot let him get out of here too soon.” He remembered the freezer downstairs. “We cannot let him leave, period,” he said with a solemn face. He stood up and nudged the paralyzed man with his foot after a brief moment of indecision. The man’s lanky body rolled down like a ragdoll and stopped at the bottom of the stairs. Selena suppressed a smile, and a strong urge to kiss her boss.

They followed him downstairs, dragged his body to the centre of the room, rolled him onto his stomach, and restrained him with everything he laid on the rape table earlier. They looked around and found a box of vials containing bootleg GPAC-substitute. Selena broke one and mixed it into a glass of water, then placed the glass next to the guy. Finally they locked the basement door, threw the key away, and left.

“I can’t find any info here about where his cousin lives, or where he keeps Della,” Eddie said as they rushed towards the spot they hid their rental bike, “but perhaps we can arrange a meeting using this.” He tossed the kidnapper’s phone to Selena.

“Yes Sir,” she smiled and accessed the text messaging app.

“Be careful. Note that he calls him Cuz, and sometimes Simus. Uses short words and sentences, and never uses proper punctuation,” he warned. “Also, keeps mixing up gender pronouns like an illiterate moron.”

“No problem, boss,” she said and started typing. “I have an idea. It seems they often hang out at a bar called ‘Perineum.’ I know where that is. I did a ‘retrieval’ at that location several years ago. I’ll invite him there.”

“Good,” he approved. “Once we ID him, we can cancel the meeting with a text and follow him back to his lair. Simple enough.”

“And the best part is,” she smiled, “I can play the role of the reluctant rapetoy again and worship your cock while we wait.”
 

Mystery - 7​


She froze and waited with her eyes shut. He stumbled off the bed and pulled his pants up, lumbered around the room and took a sip from his beer. She held her breath and listened as he picked the sex toys and floggers he used on her, and threw them in a cardboard box. She lost track of him for a moment when he stopped moving. That paralyzing fear took hold of her brain again. She braced for impact.

He didn’t hit her this time. Instead, he turned around and walked out of the room, locked the door and climbed up the stairs. She could hear him slapping the wall clumsily in an attempt to maintain his balance. He was drunk out of his mind, and exhausted too. He had been swilling cheap booze and raping her for the last few hours, on and off.

Still too scared to move, she waited until the place fell fully silent. He must have dozed off upstairs. She was glad that the disgusting slob didn’t fall asleep on top of her like the day before, with his cock buried in her sore ass.

Once she was positive that he wasn’t going to come back soon for another round, she timidly opened her eyes. That ugly ceiling was the first thing she saw. She was now familiar with all of its wet spots, streaks of mold, and imperfections of the paint job. For the last few days, this depressing surface was her entire world. Her only “entertainment.” She saw images in the random patterns of mildew that colonized it aggressively, and made up stories to pass the time. She had to keep her sanity in this hell somehow.

She moved her wrists and ankles as much as she could in an attempt to keep her muscles from atrophying. She was tied to the wooden bed frame like a letter X. Her arms were fully stretched and restrained by tight ropes around her wrists and elbows, so all she could do was open and close her fingers to allow blood circulation. He left some more slack with the ankle ropes because he wanted to move her lower body around and switch between her fuckholes more easily. The collar around her neck was attached to a rusty chain that wrapped around the mattress, which kept her anchored at the center of the thing, but it was not hampering her neck movements completely. He liked to sit on her chest, pull her head up, and shove his cock to finish in her throat, so she could briefly look around when he raised her head to fuck it.

Her room obviously was not originally designed as a place to rape kidnapped girls in. The wooden bed she was secured on was rather smallish, even for a petite girl like her, and it barely fit inside the crammed space. Apart from that there was a broken nightstand barely holding up a case of cheep beer, and a moldy cardboard box that held all the disgusting tools he kept shoving in her. She couldn’t see the floor from where she lay, but she assumed that it was covered by empty beer bottles he kept shoving in his ugly mug incessantly. No windows, no natural light, just a single miserably ineffective light bulb dangling over her.

She thought that it was the most depressing place on earth… even without all the rape.

She remembered the “self-defence” course her big sister dragged her to a couple months ago. It was one of those “rape evasion and freedom prolongation” seminars given by twenty-something year-old girls who had no real idea about how the real world functioned. She immediately hated that blonde moron who kept reading the course material in a monotone voice like a robot. She kept listing all those stats about latest enslavement rates, and suggested techniques and attitudes to increase one’s chances of staying out of brutal men’s crosshairs. It was all bullshit, of course. Their instructor was a clueless bimbo, she thought, but she wasn’t entirely sure about the program itself. Was it a hastily put together scam to prey on the fears of young women, or was it the brainchild of well-intentioned morons? Either way, it was ultimately useless.

She was the proof of that.

When she was taken a few days… or perhaps a week ago, she never had any chance to act strategically, adjust her attitude, or use any of the fool-proof disarming techniques she was taught. She didn’t see him coming at all. She didn’t even had an inkling about the danger until after she found herself in this place. She went to sleep in the safety of her bedroom one night, and she woke up in this nightmare some time later.

She was bound and gagged, completely naked and covered in sticky stuff. Her vagina hurt and butthole was sore. She had a weird taste in her mouth. She was raped while she was unconscious, god knows how long, or how many times… or by how many people.

Turned out it was just a single guy. The most unpleasant, repulsive asshole she had ever seen. It was not his physical appearance. He wasn’t particularly ugly or anything… It was just… his eyes. The unambiguously evil look in his beady little black holes which glinted brighter when he heard the pain in her moans and whimpers. And boy, he really liked to hurt her in every possible way. He slapped her across the face and the tits hard and often while he fucked her, and used an old leather flogger to beat her in order to get it up again.

He had a particularly big thing. Della had a limited frame of reference, of course. She was an inexperienced virgin only a few days ago. The only ones she had seen were her the penises of her schoolmates who regularly raided the female restrooms in her school. Like all girls, she had to suck boys’ cocks from time to time. She didn’t like it, but it was a fact of life in this country.

Her current rapist was older than the boys she was used to serving at school. Just by a few years, perhaps, but it made all the difference. His member was considerably bigger. It was even longer and girthier than the silicon training dildos they practiced on in the rape evasion techniques seminar. That shitty program wasn’t able to prepare her even for this simple aspect of “rape survival,” it turned out. She choked a lot at first, but the guy didn’t seem to care if she was about to suffocate or not. He just kept fucking her throat like it was a masturbatory toy. Eventually, something in her head snapped and she somehow managed to adjust to his unusual size and rhythm.

Just like that, she was weaned on his cock after only 10-12 brutal skullfucks. Survival instinct was the best guide and teacher.

Of course, she cried and screamed a lot at first, whenever he removed her gag. She remembered from the course that some crying and resistance was not only natural, but also desirable when a man decided to use you, legally or illegally. The tears and the begging eyes, they liked them. Cry and scream, but not too much and not for too long. A good girl was supposed to resist fiercely initially, but should surrender and start serving obediently before he got too rough. It was more about power than sexual gratification after all. Resist, submit, obey, please, survive. If it’s an illegal utilization, bide your time and escape if possible. But if he legally owns your ass… well, tough luck, sister!

It was the only part of the seminar she benefited from. She did resist initially. Not because their clueless instructor told them to do so, of course. She was genuinely shocked and terrified out of her mind. It was the most natural reaction to have. But after a while, she remembered her notes. Gradually, She stopped fighting the cock in her mouth and started to do her best to accommodate it. She made the faces and did the sounds. She even opened her pelvis and pushed back with her hips.

It worked immediately, like magic. He started to hit her less and fuck her more. It was much better than the opposite scenario.

Footsteps! She held her breath and listened.
He was up again? She cursed into her gag. It was too soon.

He wandered around upstairs for a while. She had no idea what his house looked like, of course, but she had slowly built the basic floor plan in her head based on the noises he made for the past week or so. The kitchen must have been to her left, right above the burning tower of the mildew castle met the one winged dragon. She knew that because he kept slamming the refrigerator door. The bathroom was probably located at the direction where her left foot was pointing at. The flush was too loud. The place was old, and the creaks revealed his whereabouts at all times.

There was no sound proofing whatsoever. That explained why he kept her gagged constantly while he wasn’t utilizing her. Perhaps the place wasn’t completely isolated. Was she being held in an urban area? Were there neighbors in proximity who could hear her screams for help? And if they could hear her, would they even care to help her? Everybody had fucktoys in their homes, basements. Why would they suspect that she was illegally acquired?

His footsteps stopped at the top of the stairs for a moment. She took a deep breath. She knew it was rape time again. He started to walk down the stairs. The key turned in the lock. She quickly closed her eyes the moment the door opened.

He walked in and stood above her. She could hear his heavy breathing. He reeked beer and sweat. A slap landed on her right tit. She knew he’d do that from past experience, of course. She moaned into her gag. He snickered and turned around to pick another bottle of beer from the case on the nightstand. He opened it and took a sip.

Another slap on her inner thigh. She understood the non-verbal command and swiftly opened her legs wider. He climbed on the bed, grabbed her by the waist and raised her bottom to slide under her. He sat on his heels, placed her butt on his thighs, and started to rub her slit with two fingers. As always, her stupid body immediately betrayed her and lubricated the intruder. He used her juices to stroke his cock to full hardness, and then started to rub her anal opening with his fingers. Her sphincter gave out and let the digits in. One at first, then the second and the third. Finally, the tip of his manhood replaced his hand. He tightly grabbed her by the waist and skewered her with his steely rod, like a piece of meat on a spit.

Della moaned into her gag. She hated anal penetration the most. It always hurt like hell. Always.

He started to fuck her slowly. He usually started assrapes like this. She figured that he enjoyed the pained grimace on her face. He often filmed it with his phone too.

A slap landed on her left cheek. She opened her eyes and looked at him. His wasn’t frowning or grinning. Just enjoying her secondary fuckhole. He let her waist go and tapped on her stomach. She interpreted the gesture as a command to keep moving, practically jerking him off with her bum. She obeyed and continued to stroke his cock, in spite of the overwhelming shame setting her young body aflame.

Without saying anything, he picked up his phone and started to film her. He did that regularly. He snapped photos after each ejaculation. In his sick mind, he was an artist, and that white fluid was his ink. By now he must have had a sizeable collection of photos of her cum-covered face, her tits, thighs, and stomach glistening under a coat of jizz, semen oozing out of her pussy and asshole…

One or two, she understood. But every single one of them? Perhaps it was kind of a journal of her abuse, or an amateur documentary of his rapetoy’s progress.

He filmed the way she impaled herself on his cock for a while with a victorious curl at the side of his lips. He was proud of his achievement. He was able to make his stupid captive follow his orders without hesitation within a very short period of time, after all. It wasn’t all him, of course. She was practically "pre-trained." Like every other moron who took that damned certificate program!

Once he decided that he had enough footage of her humiliating and tormenting herself, he brought the phone right above her face to take a few photos. Like a conditioned monkey, she felt the urge to smile the moment she make eye contact with the camera. Luckily, she was able to snuff that shameful urge before it left the curves of her brain. All he managed to capture was the pain lines above her eyebrows and the drool flowing down her chin.

A metallic beep announced a new text message. He pulled the phone back and started to text. She continued to move her hips without slowing down. She was determined not to make any mistakes and provoke another violent beating. The only thing that she hated more than an assrape was the bite of that damned flogger.

He slapped her on the stomach again. Was that a stop command? She continued to move in confusion for a few more seconds until he slapped her again, a lot harder this time. She stopped. Apparently amused by the text correspondence he was engaged in, he chuckled and stood up. Finished his beer and left without saying anything.

Della lay there, puzzled. This was the first time he had abandoned her mid-rape. She expected him to return and finish with a rough throating, but he never did. She followed his footsteps move away and finally leave the house.

She exhaled through her nose and relaxed. Her well-fucked ass was aching like hell once again, but she didn’t mind at all. She didn’t know who had sent that mysterious text message and cut her ritual humiliation short, but she was thankful. Finally, she had a chance to rest, at least for a short while. Her tired gaze found the mildew alligator right above her head. She fell asleep a few seconds later.



OFFICIAL:
E~ My dear sickos and sickettes,
I had to leave town on an unplanned trip, so I have to postpone tomorrow’s illustration to Monday. Cannot add pics to this chapter either since I wrote it on the road (typos!typos!typos!), but I overcompensated a bit length-wise."
 

Mystery - 8​


“Back when I was on hound duty, there was-”

Selena stopped mid-sentence and swallowed as if she was suddenly confronted with a bad memory. Eddie reached down and caressed her cheek instinctively. Her face softened and dropped into his palm.

She looked gorgeous. She looked gorgeous on her knees, she look gorgeous naked and leashed like a petgirl, she looked gorgeous with his cock in her mouth. She was a rare specimen of course. A real S-class female. Tall, athletic, and stunning each and every one of them, special-class women served an important purpose. They represented the ideal woman androcracy vied to create.

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The now-dreaded Slavecop Corps, or the “Blue Guard” as it was called back then, was originally created purely as a PR stunt. They were to do some tactical training to look competent in front of the cameras, and appear in parades and public events as eye candy. They were not supposed to contribute to the greater effort to enforce slavery in a significant way.

Ironically, the image they created was so impactful and fascinating, the PR campaign turned into a real social engineering project. Even though they were still not fully convinced that women could be competent or loyal enough to enforce the Compulsory Female Slavery Law, the BFA nevertheless chose to capitalize on the overnight success of the servile tall-goddesses and increase their numbers. Parallel to that, many local authorities and private companies also attempted to create their own fem-guards and pussy-squads. This sudden craze inevitably created a problem. Since the S-grade was designed to be exclusive, there were simply not enough women around who fit the impossible selection standards.

The quick solution to the so-called “blue shortage” was relaxing the conditions and elimination process considerably in order to widen the selection pool. Their roster was quadrupled in a year and continued to grow steadily throughout the following decade. Selena remembered how the “original” girls looked down on the later recruits as a direct result of that relaxation of standards. The new blood was simply “lower quality” in their eyes. Selena was a relatively early recruit herself when she “volunteered” for service six year after its launch, and was almost as striking and competent as an original, but she was treated with disdain anyway. She herself felt the same way about the girls joining after her. She later realized that this silly division between the bluepuss generations was perpetuated by male handlers. It was just another part of their greater “divide and control” policy.

Yearly recruitment numbers plateaued after a while, but not because of a scarcity of eligible girls. There was simply not enough men to control them efficiently. By then the big pussy-boom in the androcratic bloc was in full swing. The nubile female-male ratio in slavery countries reached to a whopping 9 to 1 when the initial waves of breeders started maturing and flooding the market, and cunt imports exploded after a series of international female trade treaties. In comparison, the rest of the world had a 6-to-1 ratio, which more or less remained unchanged since the end of the “Calamity.”

When Selena volunteered for service, the corps was already a powerhouse with settled procedures, practices and traditions. Now called the SEFR, the department was the most powerful arm of the BFA and it kept growing constantly. It quickly became the umbrella organization that dealt with issues of cunt retrieval, reeducation, rehabilitation, and redistribution around the country. Their importance increased further when the Female Liberation Front got large enough to strike regime targets boldly. SEFR undertook the task of fighting surging fluffer activity, and continued to perform it with varying success throughout the years.

Selena was an eager participant of that effort for almost a decade. Until the death of her handler a couple years ago she flew missions on a Cunthound like most of her sisters-in-arms, hunting down runners ranging from scared virgins to dangerous subversives. One rarely come across hardened fluffers in the wild during regular Cunthound patrol, of course. One had to be chosen for undercover missions for that. Those missions were rare and operative selection process was very case-specific. Selena had participated in three such missions, and only one of them turned out to be actually FLF-related.

The unexpected death of her handler changed Agent-Slave Slenderslut’s life radically. Not because she liked him, of course. He was as big an asshole like the rest of them, and treated her like a worthless cumrag. She was secretly delighted to hear about his demise. But reality hit her soon. She was 28 years-old at the time, and no agent wanted to take on a ageing slavecop so close to retirement. Everyone wanted new cadets, young, juicy and fuckable. They wanted to “imprint” on the clueless fresh fuckmeat.

So she was stuck at an admin job at the E-ville HQ, wandering around the drab corridors of that fucking tomb until her retirement a couple months ago. The only life she knew was over. She had no family or friends outside. She knew nothing about the real world. Desperation hit. She was ready to go to sleep and never wake up.

Then it happened. Ironically, because of her role in a wicked act, she was saved by a miracle. A young man named Eddie Mestring found her at her lowest and gave her a lifeline. The rest was history.

He had become her official boss and unofficial master. She liked him more and more every day she spent with him. And now he served him with great pleasure as partner and fucktoy. More than anything, she loved to kneel before him and relax with his cock in her mouth.

Eddie moved his hand from the woman’s cheek and stroke her short platinum hair. She smiled and continued to lick his resting member casually. She enjoyed open ended blowjobs like this a lot, perhaps even more than getting railed hard like an alley whore in the doggie position. She could spend hours doing it. Licking her young master’s shaft, balls, and groin slowly, no rush, no pressure.

She never called him “master” out loud, but that was what he was in her mind. He didn’t own her on paper, of course. If someone asked, he would call her his “restricted regular.” She had since learned that the clunky-sounding term was a newfangled minced oath for “girlfriend.” She remembered carrying the biggest smile around all day after looking up the term. She felt silly and her face hurt afterwards, but it was a great, lasting feeling.

She was a 30 year-old woman blushing because a teen boy called her his girlfriend.

“Is there a second part of that sentence?” asked Eddie.

“Sorry mas-… boss?” she stammered. “What sentence?”

“Just now, you mumbled something about hound duty, and stopped abruptly.”

“Ah! Yes,” she blushed. “I was going to say something silly. Forget about it.”

“Something silly? Agent Selena Slenderslut has something silly to say? This will be one for the history books. Please, indulge me.”

“It’s just…This place, it reminded me… Before patrol duty, our handler would take us to the weapons officer to pick our equipment. He was the nastiest asshole in the world. After that we crossed the hall to receive the Cunthound access codes and nav-notes from another asshole. So you see we called the hall between them-”

“You messed up,” smiled Eddie. “You messed the joke up.”

“What? I… I messed up the joke?”

“You called both of them assholes. You were supposed to call one of them a dick. So the space between the asshole and the dick would become…”

“The perineum,” chuckled Selena, raising her hand to point at the giant sign of the pub with the same name across the street. “Fuck. I guess I created a weird beast with two assholes.”

“I wasn’t disappointed,” said her young boss with a smile. “It was something silly, after all.” Another gentle stroke on her blushing cheek. She melted.

“I wonder if the story about how this place got its name is as fascinated as yours,” he continued. “Perhaps the owner simply hates his neighbors on either side?”

Selena smiled and leaned forward to resume service, but froze when she saw a young man approaching the pub. “Sir, the cousin!” she whispered. “Shall I send the message to cancel the meet-up?”

“Let him buy a couple of drinks first,” he dismissed, as his eyes casually followed the man stumbling towards the bar. “It seems he already has a good buzz going on.”

Selena nodded. All she heard was “shut up and keep sucking.” She held upright his semi-erect member between her stretched palms and wrapped her full lips around it gently, then swallowed the entire thing with a graceful move. The thing immediately responded and started to refill with juice. She started to move her head up and down the shaft to quicken the process. In a few seconds, Eddie was back in full hardness, and she was ready to receive another load.


1754972992802.png




Eddie told her to send the text after she succeeded to extract her salty-sugary treat once again. She took out the phone they stole from the cabin rapist. They were ninety-nine percent sure that this guy held their client sister captive somewhere. They hoped that he’d lead them back to her when “his cousin” cancelled on him. Selena had already crafted the message based on their previous text exchanges. She read the message one last time, added an extra typo for good measure, and sent it.

She then turned around, bent over the fire hydrant, and spread her ass-cheeks, so Eddie could remove her tailplug and enter her from behind.
 
Was there a "Best liked Member" Thing here for chearing my favorite Content, I`d gladly vote for great Poster xxfluffiedeadxx, no Doubt!
 
Last edited:

End of Shift​


1755132233508.png




“Hey Marisol!”

“Hey Kat. How did your econ exam go?”

“Went very well, actually. I’ll probably get full marks.”

“Yeah? Good for you, babe. Speaking of full marks, what’s all that on your bum?

“Oh? That’s….. Fuck! I begged him to take it easy.”

“Took a detour on your way here, eh? Who was that this time? Larry?”

“Yes, that jerk, and one of his fucking friends. They ambushed me by that big oak on my way here. They spit-roasted me for a bit. Thankfully they had mercy and let me go before my shift begins, but you know… that asshole, he likes to spank hard as he rapes….. The customers, they won’t mind, right?”


1755132259890.png




“Naah, you’ll be fine. But let this be a lesson to you, little red. No shortcuts.”

“I know-I know!….. So, how was your shift? Anything to report?”

“Not much. It was unusually calm here today. It’s sunny outside, so most people prefer to rape on the quad, you know. I did suck a few good ones though.”

“Yeah? Tell me right now how much you made in tips, girl. You know I get very competitive.”

“Ha-ha! Let me see… 18… 21… 26 bucks. Try and top that, bitch!”

“What the hell? A confused millionaire walked in here and fell dick-first in your mouth or something?”

“I wish. Just the usual crowd. Students, and maybe a couple professors. A few of them tipped well for some reason.”

“No fair. I cannot get that kind of numbers. Mine is the worst shift. Mostly nerds and girls.”

“Ha-ha! I believe in you, babe. Deploy that sexy catwalk thing you do so well. I’m sure you can seduce a few of these girlies, perhaps do some cunnies.”

“Very funny. You know as well as I do, sluts don’t tip.”

“Not here at the cafe perhaps, but I had a few very appreciative pussied customers at the club. I love when it happens. You know, they often ‘reciprocate’ too.”

“The night club, yeah! You gotta get me in there, dude. I can use the extra money.”

“I'm on it, sister. I keep badgering the asshole managing the girls over there. He says he has too many on the roster right now. If a spot opens, you’ll be the first to hear, don’t worry.”

“Uh-oh! Speaking of assholes… here comes the biggest one.”

“There you are, my sweet angels! Ready to pass the ‘baton,’ are we?”

“Yes boss!”
“Yes boss!”

“Alright. First thing’s first. Marisol, you did three hours today, right? You get 9 bucks for that. The list says you sucked off 16 customers. That’s another 8 bucks. Good job.”

“Thank you kindly, Mr Ford.”

“Sure. Alright then. Turn around and pull your skirt up, so I can remove the anti-penetration plug.”

“Yes Sir….. Ouchie! Darn, I can never get used to that thing.”

“Really? Here I thought you girls liked that feeling.”


1755132285918.png




“You forget it’s there after a while, but it really hurts while locking and unlocking it.”

“I see. Well, you gotta do what you gotta do, I guess.”

“Easy for you to say, boss. You don’t have to walk around with that thing shoved deep in your butt for hours. Not to mention these fucking pointy boots we have to wear.”

“Ah-hah-hah! Believe me, you’re as big a pain in my ass, Kat. Now, spread those sweet butt-cheeks so I can shove this in.”

“What? I don’t get a fresh one?”

“Don’t make me walk all the way to the dildo cabinet, girl… Here, I’ll wash it… see?”

“Goddammit!… Fine, I guess… Aaahh! Not so rough.”

“Oh, don’t be a crybaby. You’ll live…. Aaaand there you go. Ready?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Alright then, go get ‘em. See you in three hours….. And I’ll see you on Saturday at eight, Marisol.”

“Okay, boss.”
“See you, Mr Ford.”

“……”

“Fucking jerk. You know he’ll take a three-hour nap in his office while you’re busting your ass in there.”

“Tell me about it… The lazy fucker didn't even bring me a new plug."

"Come oooon. It's not like we had never shared rapists."

"Yeah-yeah... By the way, this darn thing feels a lot bigger than the last time I had it in me. Am I going crazy?

“No-no, you’re right. This is a brand new model. These ones supposed to have a mild-electroshock function, I think. Customers will be able to ‘buzz’ them to call the waitresses by pressing a button.”

“What the fuck? They will zap our butts? Girl, I didn’t sign up for that!”

“Ha! You said the same thing when they made these pointy-boots compulsory. What are you gonna do, quit?”

“Oh, shut up! Yes, I got used to the boots quickly, but I don’t think I can ever get used to a giant buttplug zapping my cute little butt every few minutes.”

“Relax, will you? They haven’t installed the buzzers in the seats yet. Mr Ford says the system won’t be fully operational for at least another month.”

“Ford says that, huh? I don’t trust a single word coming out of that fucking prick’s mouth.”

“Right…. I never asked before. He ever raped you?”

“Yeah, twice. What about you?”

“Many times. Seven… eight… Something like that.”

“What the hell? Talk about preferential treatment! You’re practically his restricted regular.”

“Ha! Regular, perhaps, but certainly not restricted….. Hey, listen, Looks like all the customers are content at the moment. I can give you a quickie before I leave, if you like?”

“Oh yeah? I’d love that, to be honest. Been a while….. Alright, but don’t expect a tip from me, you little slut!”

“Ah-hah! Compliments of the house, babe… Go on then. Sit over there, lean back, and spread your legs.”
 

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