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[Erenisch] Novella.

The Operation - 29​


32 minutes earlier…

“You look excited.”

“Sorry. I know… I.. It’s not my first time of course, but…” Lidia smiled nervously. Martin patted her on the head as if she was a dog. She looked the part anyway. She was clad in Cummypaws-style petgirl gear, collared, leashed, and on all-fours.

“Actually, it is your first time.” His grin widened. “First time with me. It’s always memorable… So I’m told.”

Lidia giggled. She liked what his words did to her face.

He picked the latex hood from the table and waved it in front of the ex-slavecop. “Now, before I put this on, I need to know if you-“

“Yes,” she interrupted, “No warning necessary. I know what would happen if I commit violence against a male citizen. Rapexecution and all that stuff. You know what? We passed that point long ago, when the Heimdaller camera caught me back at the FTZ docks.” She paused for a second. “Don’t worry. When the time comes, I won’t hesitate.”

“I’m sure of that,” Martin replied. “But that’s not what I wanted to know. I noticed that men in this country walk a little slower than we do, perhaps to let the women keep up with them while crawling.”

“Bitchwalking,” Lidia corrected.

“While bitchwalking,” he repeated. “I tend to walk a lot faster. So, what I wanna know is, will you be able to keep up?”

“Fuck you!” Lidia chuckled. “Just put the damn mask on. We should hurry.”

Martin placed the hood on her head and led her to the rental car. They drove to a secluded spot close to Nagel’s mansion and started their casual walk along the street as master and fuckpet.

“You know, I like this a lot,” said Martin as they approached the mission zone. “I took strolls with many female companions before, but never held one’s leash like this. So, if I wanted to ‘utilize’ you right now… Can I do it right here? In the middle of the street?”

Lidia looked up for second and nodded. She felt a tingle between her legs.


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“Ah!” he exclaimed, “how liberating. “I think I’ll try it once at least. How about that spot?”

Lidia looked at the bench he pointed at. It was well positioned with full view of Nagel’s garden. She nodded again. They were in public and she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to talk or woof. She was an experienced slavecop with basic K19 training, but she didn’t really know how to be an ordinary petgirl.

Martin didn’t care about how she responded, of course. But she didn’t want to ruin everything by making a simple mistake. He started to walk. She followed. There was nobody around except for a number of slavegirls tending to the picturesque gardens of Nagel’s rich neighbors. She could see no cameras.

Martin sat down. Lidia waited for him to open his legs so she could start sucking his cock, but he didn’t. She waited awkwardly on her hands and knees, trying to understand what he expected her to do.

“Come. Sit!” ordered the man after a few seconds. He seemed relaxed, but Lidia could see his eyes carefully scanning Nagel’s mansion. She pawed closer and sat on her heels like a good girl. He patted her on the head gently as he often did. She felt elation. At that moment she realized that she liked doing whatever he told her to do. It was such a weird feeling.

He sat there silently for a few minutes. Lidia liked the quiet.

He looked at Lidia. “You are unusually laconic, comrade. You know you can talk, don’t you? There is nobody here but us.”

“Thank you,” said Lidia with a childish smile. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to talk or woof.”

“Woof? Why would I want that?”

“I don’t know. People make their women do that.” She suddenly felt silly. Of course, he was a spy on a mission, not a sex tourist. She didn’t want to look stupid in front of him. No, she wanted to impress him. She wanted him to like her. She wanted him to respect her like he did Marise. The men in the group, they occasionally teased their brunette comrade but they never disparaged or disrespected her. Lidia wanted that for herself, more than anything.

Coincidentally, she also wanted him to grab and fuck her. At that moment, right there. Whenever, wherever.

“There, that’s the sixth one. Right on time. They are going to take a rape break.” Lidia turned to see what he was looking at. A guard appeared from the other side of the mansion, pulling a naked girl with him. Another guard lazily leaning on the south wall waved him over. They dragged the girl to a large rock, laid her on her stomach, and penetrated her on both ends. “They will play with her for 15 minutes and hand her over to the next two. These assholes suck at their jobs, but they are surprisingly punctual when it comes to abusing the kitchen slaves.”

“You got their schedule by watching them once?” asked Lidia.

Martin pointed to the sky and grinned. “I have an eye in the sky. Would you believe we have people who constantly monitor key figures in enemy states? When you suggested Nagel as a target, they sent us everything they got about him.”

“Cool,” she replied. “So, technically, these analysts gather in a state building and watch porn together?”

Martin laughed out loud. “Yes, the folks monitoring Pussiana must have seen a lot of titillating stuff.” His reaction made Lidia beam with joy. She made him laugh!

“Now the boss wants us to bring you back with us, perhaps I can give you a tour around the secret headquarters, eh?”

“On bring-your-prisoner-to-work day?”

“Prisoner? No, you’ll be welcomed as a hero. A freedom fighter.”

Lidia smiled bitterly. “You don’t think I believed the ginger moustache man’s bullshit back at the safehouse, do you? No, I’ll be a prisoner. Even if they parade me around as a hero, I’ll be under constant surveillance and control. I know that. And I don’t have a problem with that. I’d be happy to play my part if they put me in a nice cell and let me out every now and then. Sounds like a good life, really.”

Martin didn’t say anything. He knew she was right.

“Would you visit me often? In my cell?”

“Sure,” he replied.

“You know, after the attack on the Hive… When I found myself free in a secluded little village, I realized something.”

“What?”

“I loved lying around lazily all day, eating human food, sleeping on a real bed… I no longer had to give a hundred blowjobs a day to brutal assholes…. No more begging. No more weekly whippings. No more keeping track of penetrations in my orifices. I loved the peace and freedom…” She paused for a moment. “I mean my mind did. But my body… It’s like my body misses all that… cruelty. I can’t explain. It’s like a hunger.”

“I understand,” Martin smiled. “I was in a similar situation some time ago. I wasn’t always this well-adjusted, mild-mannered, jovial killing machine you see before you. I had some urges that I could not explain, or get rid of. Not until I found a wonderful person who patiently healed me.”

“A lover?” asked Lidia. Her heartbeat surged.

“My late wife.”

“Oh. Sorry for your loss.” She felt relief at first, but it was quickly overpowered by shame when she noticed the sorrow in is eyes.

“Do I still feel like going on a rampage and tearing apart the neighbors playing loud music all night? Yes. But I learned to control myself… Sorta.”

“So,” whispered Lidia, “perhaps you could be that person for me. You can visit me regularly and heal me… Heal me hard and long.”

He smiled again. “Perhaps. You liked our 'sessions' so far?”

“Very much. Yes.”

“Oh yeah? Which one was your favorite?”

“When we first met. Remember how you turned me over and… ‘healed’ me from behind? I liked that one a lot. But then, the next morning… it got even bettter when…” She paused when the memory of the unusual pleasure she felt shot around her mind. Her entire body tingled with yearning. She was suddenly filled with the desire to serve and please him. To repay him for his generosity.

Martin reached for her chin and lifted her head gently, then pulled her leash to bring her beautiful body closer. “When we go back, I’ll be happy to ‘therapize’ you often, Miss Gulfer.” Another tug on the leash made Lidia coyly climb onto his lap and surrender herself to his strong arms. He wrapped his arm around her back and put his free hand between her thighs. She opened her legs to let his hand slide in and closed them again. His fingers played with her labia and clit for a good while and entered her eager fuckhole. She let out a loud moan. Pressing down her clit with his thumb, he started to rub the inside of her upper pelvis with two fingers. She loved it. In a few seconds, she was delirious with pleasure.

“Please, fuck me!” she begged.

“Later,” he declined. “You’ll have to wait until the mission is over. I don’t want to be caught with my pants down when the signal comes. Literally.” He smiled and leaned in for a long, passionate kiss.

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“Kissing a slavegirl in public isn’t a smart move,” she whispered after he finally let her tongue go.

“I’m not that smart anyway, “he replied, but quickly looked up to see if the guards could see them. Fortunately, those two were preoccupied with the petite blonde they had been spitroasting.

He picked up the pace and fingerfucked the young slavecop to a shuddering orgasm in his arms. Then he slowed down to let her recover. Lidia pressed her thighs together to trap his hand in there. He grinned and continued to rub her vulva.

Thank you,” she whispered gratefully.

“You really had to keep track of penetrations?”

“Of course,” she moaned. “How else would they evaluate a collectively-used state-owned slave? As our glorious leader once said, a woman’s utility to men is her true value.”

Martin made a face.

“You want to hear my tally? Broken down by holes?”

“No,” he said unconvincingly, “well, maybe the ballpark?”

“Several aisles of a ballpark,” said Lidia and smiled. She didn’t feel ashamed or hurt by the fact that she served so many men. Not any more, not in his arms. She loved the feeling. She felt safe in there. “How long do you think we-”

“No idea. We’ll wait for Alex’s text. If everything goes according to plan, I’ll take the tablet in there. A cakewalk with these oblivious horny baboons patrolling the area. But if something goes wrong…” He looked into her pretty blue eyes and grinned. “then you’ll probably get to try that female-on-male violence thing.”

“That me reminds me,” she moaned as he started to quicken and deepen his strokes. “I actually don’t know what to do against a male opponent.”

“You’ll improvise,” he chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’ll soften them up for you. You’ll take down at least one, I promise.”

A beep. He looked at his phone. His face got serious. “Perhaps sooner than you think. Looks like we are doing plan B.”
 

The Operation - 30​


Minerva pressed her thighs together and pushed down her knees with her hands, in order to stop them from shaking. She was excited. This was the first time in her life she was on a “date” of sorts. And in such weird circumstances.

Without turning her head much, she quickly stole a glance of Viltis at the wheel. It was immediately apparent to the young woman that the Master-Agent didn’t particularly enjoy driving. He seemed out of his element, somehow. He followed every rule and heeded every traffic sign as expected from a man like him, but he also drove very slowly, in the most boring way possible. Nevertheless, Minerva was unprecedentedly giddy. She was thrilled to be allowed to sit in the passenger seat for a change, instead of being stuffed in the trunk…

When they received the bad news at the office a few hours ago, everybody was shocked. Not Viltis. While the personnel ran around like headless chickens, Agent Viltis simply cursed under his breath once, took Minerva to the cafeteria, and bought her a cup of coffee. During their casual conversation unrelated to the unfolding crisis, Minerva could see in his eyes that he was reevaluating his strategy like a machine. That calm demeanor masking a constantly calculating mind felt very familiar to her. She saw that look everyday in the mirror.

Of course, they went back upstairs to join others in the crisis room once the pitter-patter of confusion in the corridors died down. Agent Anders returned with a gloomy story. The mood in the room turned funereal once he described the situation in full detail.

After the debriefing, Minerva went to the girl’s room, locked herself in a stall, and laughed for ten straight minutes. She didn’t immediately know how this surprise development would impact her “freedom number,” but she didn’t care. It was the best day of her life. That mean asshole, taken down by the rogue agent Lidia Cumgulper.

“We’re here.” Viltis slowed down and entered a driveway surrounded by a well-kept garden. For a nanosecond, she wondered if he would open the door for her, like in the now-illegal romance books she read as a teen. She quickly remembered where and when she lived and opened the door herself. He nevertheless let her walk beside him as they traversed the garden.

The door opened when they were three steps away, and a beautiful middle-aged woman welcomed them with a graceful smile.

“Minerva, meet Gemma, my wife,” introduced the man. “Gemma, this is my colleague, Miss McKluge.”

“How do you do, miss,” curtsied the woman. Her voice was the sweetest sound Minerva had ever heard in her life. She stepped aside and gestured them in.

“How are the dogs?” asked Viltis as Gemma took his coat off.

“Sleeping in their cages, dear,” replied the woman. “I fed and spanked them a couple hours ago. They were a bit disappointed that you missed their spanking time, of course, but they were good girls, both of them.” She smiled again. “You never come this late. Was it a particularly hard day at work?”

“You can say that,” said Viltis. “Never mind. Let’s sit down for dinner before the food gets even colder, eh?”

The dinner was exactly what Minerva expected it to be like. Carefully balanced caloric value, some protein, some carbohydrates, no frills. It was good food and nice dinner conversation. She couldn’t tell if the menu was “richer” because they had a guest. Perhaps Viltis’ usual diet was even more spartan. She didn’t really care. She wasn’t here for dinner.

“Do you have more room for desert, or would you like to rape Miss McKluge now, dear?” asked Gemma.

Viltis put his fork down and looked at his guest for half a second. Minerva was blushing already. “It’s getting rather late, so I think we should better start,” he said. “You prepared the raperoom?”

“Yes my love,” replied Gemma. “Would you like me to join you?”

“Not tonight, dear. Miss McKluge and I will talk shop between violations. Classified stuff.” He patted his dutiful wife on the head gently. “Perhaps before breakfast, eh? You always wanted to perform the morning rituals with another woman.”

“Yes my love, replied the woman and bowed her head obediently. “Then, I’ll come and join you at 6:30.”

Viltis stood up and walked out of the room without saying anything. It took Minerva half a second to snap out of her trance and jump to her feet. She thanked her hostess for the food and quietly followed her husband downstairs. Her heart was pounding. Her face was burning with excitement.

“I turned the basement into an old-school raperoom two months ago,” explained the man as he opened the door to his subterranean mancave. “I call it that, but I rarely use it for female-utilization. I mostly relax on the couch with a good book. Actually, you’re the first woman I brought down here besides Gemma.”

Minerva smile-nodded nervously. The room wasn’t what she expected. It certainly wasn’t a drab basement with rusty chains and hooks hanging from the ceiling, full of padded wooden furniture to tie women on. It was a nicely decorated room with a leather couch, a big screen TV, and a bookcase-slash-bar.

“It doesn’t look like Nagel’s at all, is it?”

The unexpected question hit Minerva in a sensitive spot. Painful memories of the many weekends she spent in the Chief’s raperoom rushed back and shook her from tip to toe. “No, sir, Agent Viltis. Chief Nagel has numerous custom built machines to assist him in restraining, violating, and torturing women. It’s certainly not a cozy place to kick back with a good book.”

Viltis grinned, then his grin turned into roaring laughter.

“Did I say something wrong, Sir?” Minerva asked, nervously.

“No, it’s just… You know, after you and the lower-clearance personnel left the briefing, Anders revealed more details about today’s incident at Nagel’s residence. Intimate details, he deemed inappropriate to share with rank-and-file.”

“Oh? If that’s the case, I shouldn’t…”

“You should, Minerva,” he interrupted. “You’ll definitely find out anyway. But before that, take your clothes off.”

Minerva didn’t hesitate. She quickly undressed as soon as he gave the order. She had been waiting for this command since the moment he invited her to dinner. She neatly folded her clothes and put it on the back of the couch, then stood before him, fully nude and vulnerable. She lowered her eyes and waited for his next directive.

“You know, this is unnatural,” Viltis commented. “You are simply too intelligent to be this beautiful.”

Minerva blushed. She had a number of witty, even snarky responses ready, but she decided to keep them to herself. After all, she immensely enjoyed such sweet flattery despite its misogynistic outer shell, like every other attention-starved Pussianan female. At that very moment, all she wanted was to be called a “good girl” with a pat on the head.

“Lie down on the table.”

She looked at he wooden table in front of the couch. Only then she realized that it was “woman-size,” and numerous metal rings were integrated in the intricate design of its metal frame. It was the only purpose-built rape furniture in the room. She sat on it and lay down with hands and legs spread like a giant letter X.

“Will you look at that,” admired the man. “I didn’t even order you to assume this position, but I love the way you look.” He adjusted the position of her ankles and wrists and looked her into her desire-filled eyes. “I’d use restraints on a lesser woman. But you don’t need any, do you, Miss McKluge?”

“No Sir,” she replied.

He pulled a drawer from the side of the table, picked up a piece of chalk, and drew outlines around her stretched out limbs. “If you move your hands or feet an inch from their positions, You’ll receive fifty lashes on your tits. Do you understand?”

“Yes Sir,” she said with a trembling voice.

“And if you don’t, you’ll receive only twenty-five.” He put one hand on her left tit and squeezed it, not too hard, not too gently. Minerva exhaled with excitement. He responded with a cruel nipple-pinch. She bit her lower lip to stop herself from screaming.

“You are free to scream and cry, Miss McKluge,” grinned the man. “Actually, I prefer it that way. I’m not ashamed to say, I love women’s screams. Screams of pain, screams of pleasure. It’s the most primitive yet pleasing sound. A melodious expression of her inferiority and powerlessness. The simplest response to the violation of her body.”

As soon as he said that, he picked a flogger from the drawer and hit her across the chest without warning. Minerva screamed at the top of her lungs. She didn’t have a chance to brace for impact. The pain was unbearable.

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“There you go. Whenever I hit you, with a flogger or in some other way, you will scream, thank me properly, and beg to be penetrated. Do you understand?”

“Yes Sir, Agent Viltis. Thank you, sir. Please rape me sir!” Minerva pleaded with tears gushing out of her pretty eyes.

He leaned back, satisfied. “Earlier I was telling you about the part of the debriefing you missed,” he started. “Do you know where exactly they found Nagel? On one of his custom-made rape machines… Well, not all of him.”

Minerva was tempted to turn and look at the man’s face to see if he was grinning, but another sudden lash hit her below the boobs. She screamed even louder this time.

“Aaaah! Thank you, sir. Please fuck me sir!”

“This was a big defeat for us, Miss McKluge,” he continued indifferently. “The humiliation of the incident itself aside, we suspect that they are now in possession of thousands of BFA files, top-level secrets included. The egghead squad had restricted access as quickly as possible of course, but within the brief window between Nagel’s phone call and Anders’ arrival at the scene, the bastards probably downloaded every single file they needed and more.”

Another lash, this time got her mostly across the stomach.

“Ooooh! Thank you, sir! Pleasepleaasseplease fuck me, please!

“Such a shame. This will force us to reconsider every single variable in our little game. Move the asset again, and deal with the political fallout too. Believe me, that fucking moron is still too powerful a player, and near-impossible to dislodge from that chair, but there will be consequences. The Council will demand blood sacrifice. Heads will roll. I hope yours or mine won’t be among them.”

Another hit perfectly slashed Minerva’s hardened nipples.

“Aaaaooow! Thank you Master-Agent, Sir. Pleeeeaaaseee rape me!”

“Very well,” said Viltis and rose from the couch. He stood facing Minerva’s swollen womanhood, opened his zipper, and took his fully erect penis out. “I know, and I appreciate that you are breaking many of your rules since we met,” he whispered as he pressed the tip of his penis against the entrance of her vagina. “I’d expect that from a lesser woman, of course. Abandoning her values and beliefs in order to please a man. Truly becoming a whore. But you, you’re smart enough to satisfy a man without rendering your core vulnerable. I wonder why you-”

“Please!” she interrupted, impatient and delirious, “please… fuck… me!”

“Alright. Since you are willing to break your rules, I’ll reciprocate by breaking one of mine.” As soon as he finished his sentence, he shoved his steely rod in Minerva, slowly for a few inches, then rammed the entire length in. The impact forced Minerva to exhale and scream like a stuck pig. He immediately started to move in and out of her, driving her insane with pleasure. She felt wonderful.

He wasn’t exaggerating before. Minerva was the first woman except Gemma he ever desired to fuck properly.

“Thank you,” she moaned. He increased the speed of his thrusts. Fucked her hard and long, and eventually filled her womb with his seed. He then pulled back, climbed on top of the table, sat on her chest, and shoved his cock in her mouth. Minerva didn’t need a command. She started to suck and lick like a whore in heat. She couldn’t believe herself, the way she served, her genuine enthusiasm and desire to please. The chaotic element in the equation was Viltis, no doubt. He had somehow awakened something strange in her.

Soon Viltis unloaded again, this time in her mouth. She swallowed and thanked him, and he shoved it in her pussy once more. Another hard rape followed, and she ended up with more jizz in her fuckhole.

Exhausted, he leaned back to catch his breath. “Between you and me, Miss McKluge,” he started, “I’m glad the Ottohuns grossly overreacted to the kidnapping of a simple dancer and sent a team to mess with us. This mission, it somehow landed an exquisite creature like you on my rape table, naked and begging to be fucked. I’m happy that it happened. And to be honest, I’m equally glad that megalomaniacal fat idiot ended up on his own table, maimed and humiliated.”

Minerva didn’t know what to say. She felt exactly the same way, both about meeting Viltis and Nagel’s comeuppance.

“You can move your hands and feet now,” he smiled. “You never lost control. Very impressive, but not at all surprising.” He opened his legs further. “Come here and make it hard again.”

Minerva jumped off the table and knelt between his legs. “Why on earth they left him alive?” she mumbled and took his semi-erect cock in her mouth. It was not a question, but an expression of frustration and disappointment.

“I have a few theories,” said the agent. He looked at her beautiful head eagerly bobbing on his cock for a while. “You’re worried that when this is all over, you‘ll have to continue to serve him on weekends, aren’t you?”

She didn’t respond. She continued to fervently blow him. He was already hard again.

He pulled her up onto his lap, impaled her on his cock, and started to fuck her again. “You know, even if he decided to force you to serve, it won't be the same at all. You see, Minerva, his hands were not the only organs they took as trophies.”

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The Operation - 31​


“How are you feeling?”

Katalin opened her eyes and turned her head with difficulty. Lidia was standing by the bed, smiling at her. It was only a half smile, perhaps a quarter, even. Somewhat bitter, marred with concern and a pinch of pity. "Pretty awful, to be honest."

"How the tables turned," said Lidia. "A couple of days ago, you were standing over my semi-paralyzed, violated body."

Katalin chose to ignore the comment about her violation. “I like your smile. You always have a very serious, soldierly face. You don’t laugh a lot.” She paused for a moment. “Except when you are around Martin.”

Lidia responded with a chuckle. Another uncharacteristic facial expression. “Old habits die hard, I guess. You learn to put on a mask very early, when you don the blue-and-whites.”

“You cannot let men know what you really feel about the things they do? The things they make you do?”

“Not really. They of course know what you feel, and you know that they know. Even the most ardent believers of Androcracy feel awful at the end of the day, while they are lying on that shelf, trying to have a few hours of shut-eye. Hiding your feelings is not the point. The mask you wear is a testament to men’s complete and unshakeable control over your body and mind. No matter what you feel, you have to behave and look the way they want you to. They like it when you feel awful and guilty, and still do it with a dutiful, soldierly expression. It gets their cocks hard, you see.”

“Right, but you hardly need to do anything extra to make cocks rock-hard.” Katalin felt immediately felt weird uttering that sentence. She wanted to lighten the mood with a jokey compliment, but it sounded insensitive when the words left her lips. The poor girl was sharing something personal and traumatic, and there she was, making light of it like an oblivious moron.

“Thank you,” Lidia beamed and sat down on the bed next to Katalin. “You’re so kind. I think you are gorgeous too, by the way.”

Katalin sighed with relief. Apparently Lidia wasn’t offended. “Thank you,” she replied, awkwardly.

“Do you want to fuck?”

Katalin’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

“I want to fuck you, and I think you want to fuck me. Let’s do it.”

“I… I… “ Katalin stammered.

Lidia’s smile widened. “You know, since I was ‘unintentionally freed’ by the fluffers, I discovered that I can actually enjoy sex, even being dominated, manhandled and abused. I mean, I have always enjoyed sex with women anyway. But nowadays, I have been craving men also… Men… Slamming me down, roughly taking me from behind…”

“Like Martin?”

“Like Martin,” affirmed Lidia. “He is the most attractive and charismatic man I have ever seen. I can even picture myself as his sex slave, to be honest. I could serve him for the rest of my life. The thought arouses me.” She chuckled again. “I know-I know, you guys don’t have slavery. You know what I mean. What is the Ottohun term for it? Wife?”

“Hold on! Martin? You think Martin is the most attractive and charismatic man? Are we talking about the same meat-headed bundle of muscles?”

Lidia laughed. “Yes. Crazy, huh? Stupid affection-starved Pussianan whore falls for the first man who doesn’t beat her during rape!” Her face became tiny bit more serious. She leaned over Katalin and stroked the brunette’s blushing cheek with her slender fingers. “I know what you’re thinking, Marise. For you, the most attractive and charismatic man ever is the ginger-mustache-man, isn’t it? I see how you look at him.”

“What? No!” whisper-yelled Katalin with laughably unconvincing outrage. “He is my superior.”

“Oh yeah,” Lidia grinned. “He is your superior alright. Do you call him that when he’s railing you?”

“No!” the brunette protested again, even more loudly than before. Then she took a deep breath and exhaled with frustration. “He wouldn’t, anyway.”

“Wouldn’t?”

“Rail me. He had a lot of opportunities to do so. I even begged him to when I was under the influence of some very powerful drugs. He just refused to do it.”

“Ah!” exclaimed Lidia and fell silent for a few seconds. “Why don’t we ask him again?”

“What?”

“We should do it together. I ask Martin to pound my butt, and you ask the moustache to rail yours. What do you think?”

“I think you are insane,” replied Katalin. She could feel her womanhood swell with excitement in mid-sentence. “I told you he didn’t touch me. What makes you think he would this time?”

“He will,” Lidia said and gave Katalin a little kiss on the forehead, “because he must be riddled with guilt right now. He failed to act quickly to save you from Nagel. I could see the relief in his eyes as he carried you out of the raperoom in one piece. He cares about you.”

“That doesn’t mean he would want to fuck me,” said Katalin. Her vagina was throbbing so hard, she was getting worried that Lidia could hear it somehow. “He is a man of duty. I’m a member of his team. That’s what you saw in his eyes, probably.”

“Perhaps,” said Lidia and surprised Katalin by grabbing her burning pussy. The brunette reflexively tried to close her thighs, but her drugged body was still not in her full control. “The way I see it,” continued the ex-slavecop, “we should go after the things we desire whenever we can, without losing any time. Freedom taught me that. I’ll probably be captured and rapexecuted soon, so I want to do the things I want before this dream ends in disaster. Martin makes me feel hot and bothered, so I try to seduce him at every opportunity. He fucks me well.”

“Good for you… I guess,” replied the other.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” grinned Lidia. “I’ll go and lure the men here, because, let’s face it, you won’t be completely ambulatory for another hour or two. We will lie face to face, you and I, so we could make out as they penetrate us the way they like, alternating between our primaries and secondaries. We will only stop kissing to suck them back to full hardness. Once they enter us properly again, we'll continue to suck each other’s pretty faces. You will feel Martin’s beat in my fingernails biting into your skin, and I’ll feel the commander’s thrusts in the rhythm of your breathing.

He will crush you under his manly weight, destroy your cunt, push your internal organs into your ribcage, choke you on your own screams and moans, fill you with his cum, and turn your gorgeous body into a a pulp.” She paused for a moment, listening to the change in Katalin’s breathing. “Then, they will need a minute to catch their breath, drink a glass of water, and return to fuck us some more… because, just look at you. Who would fuck you just once? This time it won’t be an animalistic destruction of our orifices. They will be slower, gentler. Like a massage, even. You’ll be able to feel and savor each and every thrust of the commander’s big fat cock, splitting you slowly but surely, from vulva to womb. Going deeper and deeper, stretching you, and eventually filling you again with his warm spunk that you crave since the moment you met him. He will then pull back, your pussy muscles will try to grab him and keep him inside, but they would be too spent and happy to be able to do so. He will take his cock out and lay it on your smooth stomach to rest. His cum will soon ooze out of your blissful holes. You’ll be exhausted, unable to speak or move, barely conscious. How about that?”

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Katalin held her breath for so long, she began to turn purple. “That’s… quite a… um… very…” She stopped. She didn’t really know what to say. In uncomfortable situations like this, her go to response was to overcompensate. She would have countered with an even wilder suggestion, perhaps. But Lidia’s version of this imaginary orgy was simply unsurmountable. And it was almost exactly what she wanted to happen. Unable to come up with a response, she decided to change the subject instead.

“Are you going to tell me what happened when I was… you know…”

“I will,” said Lidia, “but only if you let me fingerblast your tight little pussy while I’m I telling it.” Katalin attempted to protest, but Lidia swiftly put her free hand over her mouth before she could. “Sorry sweetheart, you aren’t allowed to say no.” She raised her finger and held it in front of the drugged brunette’s face. She waited for a moment, and raised a second finger. When she raised a third finger, Katalin sighed in surrender and nodded. Lidia grinned and slid her fingers under the blanket that covered her naked body. She started to rub her clit softly, which drew out a loud moan from the spy.

“As you know, Nagel attempted to drug your ‘husband’ using his slaves during your visit. Of course, we were prepared for that possibility, and filled him with wide spectrum anti-GPAC chems similar to what male SEFR agents use. He wasn’t paralyzed as Nagel intended.” Her fingers ventured into Katalin’s well-lubricated slit and started to poke into the tight opening of her pussy. The spy’s breathing was getting heavier and quicker, but she was still trying her best to remain attentive.

“It was actually so cool to see,” said Lidia excitedly. “We heard in basic training that tranq-guns wouldn’t work on male agents because of some kind of magic potion they took… but I never actually seen it, or even heard about a case of a slavecop shooting a male agent. None of the blue puss was crazy enough to test it of course. So, I always wondered if it was real or just a myth to keep us in line. Turns out the magic potion is real.”

“Yes,” said Katalin. “Actually, it’s our own brand of ‘magic potion,’ much more effective than the SEFR standard GPAC blockers. Turns out we have been fighting a silent chemical war with the Androcratic bloc for decades. We developed our own countermeasures.”

“Nice to know,” Lidia smiled, “but this coherent answer shows that I’m not doing a good job down here.” She shoved three fingers into Katalin’s hole and started to fingerfuck her properly. Katalin threw her head back when a fresh wave of pleasure hit her. “Anyway. According to his account, the moustache faked paralysis until Nagel took you to the raperoom. He restrained the three slavegirls and waited for a few minutes to let you make your move. When you didn’t come out for a long time, he attempted to enter. But the door was locked and he didn’t know the combination. So, he sent us the plan B signal.”

“Then you came to save me?” moaned the brunette. “Took down your first male opponent, perhaps?”

“No such luck,” said Lidia. Martin took care of all six guards… like a… I don’t know how to describe. I just tried to catch up with him. My only contribution was restraining the slavegirl the guards had been raping and bringing her back in the house. She was rather traumatized, the poor thing.”

“How did you unlock the door?” asked Katalin with difficulty. She was getting closer and closer to an orgasm.

“Ah! I can take the credit for that one. Turned out one of the slaves your husband restrained knew the combination. The mother of the other two? She was however reluctant to give it up. I was able to convince her.”

“How?” groaned the brunette.

“I used the Heimdaller tablet, actually. I logged into the Registry to find out about her. Apparently Nagel told her that her third daughter was locked in a cabinet in his office. Turns out it was a lie he told to keep her in line.”

“She was dead, wasn’t she?

Lidia nodded with a sad face, but she didn’t slow down. “When she learned the truth, it was easy to convince her to give up the code. You know the rest.”

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“Thank you,” moaned Katalin as she climaxed. Lidia continued to finger her gently for a few more seconds untils she finally pulled out. The girl’s aching muscles relaxed.

“Okay, that wasn’t a powerful one, but it warmed you up. Now I’ll go get the boys. This was a victory, Marise. Your victory. We have to celebrate.”
 

The Operation - 32​


“Marise was raped by a disgusting asshole only a few hours ago, and you want me to interrupt her recovery by having sex with her?”

“Why not?” asked Lidia, with genuine puzzlement. “You should reclaim her, pull her back to the good side. I’d be delighted if it happened to me.” She turned to Ktinodis and winked.

“Your rapid transformation from a scared kitty to a horny cougar is head-spinning,” chuckled Hermes. “But I have to agree with my friend here. We should let Marisa rest for a while. I’m sure sex is the last thing she needs right no-”

“I already fingered her to an orgasm just a minute ago,” grinned the girl. “I warmed her up for the moustache man, who she thinks is the greatest.”

“That’s enough, Miss Gulfer,” interrupted Tamer coldly. “I understand that the solution for every problem involves sex here, but I’m not willing to ‘go native’ yet. I’ll give my colleague some time to relax and recover.”

“Suit yourself,” shrugged Lidia. “Your ‘colleague’ will be disappointed, though. You’re depriving her of the chance to restore her power and confidence. Fucking you will be a power move for her.”

“One can convincingly defend any insane point to a degree, Miss Gulfer. And despite your repeated claims to ignorance, you obviously have a natural talent to formulate persuasive rational arguments on the spot. Perhaps your past life and habits earned you the ability to rationalize such cruelty and quickly shake it off. But it was a first for Marise and she’d certainly be traumatized by it. You might have convinced her that my affections is what she wanted at the moment, but trust me, it’s the last thing she needs.”

The ex-slavecop shrugged again. “You blame yourself for what happened. I thought the guilt would compel you to go in there and please her, but I was wrong. It compels you to punish yourself instead. You actually want to fuck her more than anything else, probably since the moment you met her, but you’ll deny yourself the pleasure.”

Tamer took a deep breath and pursed his lips. “As I said, a natural talent.” He fake-smiled and returned to the table to examine the files they downloaded from the Heimdaller tablet.

Lidia threw her hands in the air and collapsed onto the couch, next to Ktinodis. “Ignore my advice at your peril,” she sighed. “Sex solves everything.”

“You’re thinking of ‘time,’ my dear,” Hermes chuckled. “Time solves everything.”

“Do we have time for sex,” asked Lidia, playfully.

“Cool your loins, will you? We are here for a mission, you know. And it just got more complicated.”

“Got more complicated? You downloaded everything to find about the SEFR with the highest level access. Probably doubled or tripled your information about Pussiana’s secrets in one fell swoop. Even if you fail to return with this oh-so-important dancer, you’ll get a pile of medals and infinite pussy for that alone.” She grinned. “You also got me. An infamous slavecop slash double spy with big tits and a newfound craving for Ottohun cock.”

“I’m talking about the three women in the other room,” said Hermes. “Dealing with one Pussianan ex-slave was problematic enough. Now we have to take care of three more runaways.”


* * *


“You may continue while I go over the facts, Ms McKluge.”

“Thank you Sir, Master-Agent Viltis.” Minerva smiled gratefully and took the man’s semi-erect organ back in her mouth. She didn’t know if he was going to use her again. He had already fucked her pussy twice while she was lying on the table, and let her suck his cock back to hardness once, and that was already more than what she hoped for. If she did a good job now, perhaps he would rape her one more time.

It was a strange, confusing feeling. Minerva never liked to kneel before a man and suck his cock. She of course had to do it a lot, like almost every female in Pussiana. It was inescapable. It started as early as high school senior year. Boys would often burst into bathrooms, grab whoever they could find and rape their faces. Such bullying, a clear breach of school regulations, often went unreported and therefore, unpunished. It was so common, it wasn’t even regarded as sexual activity. The most beautiful girls had multiple persistent stalkers. Boys often competed for the use of their mouths. Some girls even gave up resisting and played along, virtually becoming slaves without neckbands.

Minerva was never popular in that sense. She knew how to appear bland and boring, thanks to suggestions from her algorithm that constantly analyzed fads and trends. But at the end of the day, she was another female student… and she had a mouth.

She remembered her first facerape like it was yesterday. It was the early days of October, on a Friday, after school. On her way back home, Harry Bakhall jumped her, grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into the woods. He pushed her down onto her knees behind a tree and shoved his dick into her shocked face without losing any time. Minerva couldn’t resist or say anything. She just froze as he fucked her mouth clumsily for a couple minutes, jizzed all over her face, and left her there panting on her knees.

Even though she was always careful and minimized the probability as much as she could, she knew this would happen sooner or later. She had a detailed contingency plan too. She knew beforehand how to react when abuse was imminent, how to appease her rapist to minimize bodily harm, how to behave and what to say before, during, and after the rape. She had dialogue options ready, matching possible levels of verbal abuse and intensity of violation. She had memorized and rehearsed her lines in front of the mirror.

But when Harry pinned her to a tree and unzipped his pants, she suddenly forgot everything. When he forced his dick into her mouth, her mind was completely blank. It was like her brain abandoned her the moment she needed it most. She remembered the smell, the taste, the sensation, the helplessness, the pain, and the shame all too well, but she couldn’t remember what she was thinking at the moment. It was like she was rendered dumb by the single touch of a penis.

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Harry didn’t talk as he used her. He didn’t need to say a word. It was the most natural thing for him. He had an erection, and she was right there. So he grabbed her and used her to jerk off. They both knew what her mouth was for. Minerva hated it, but she understood.

After he left, Minerva knelt there for a long while, the boy’s jizz dripping down her chin. She eventually got up and went home, threw her cum-stained shirt away and took a long bath. It was the worst day of her life… but she was strangely relieved too. The inevitable was now behind her, and her mind was finally at ease. She took the right lessons from it and altered her habits accordingly. By the time she was graduated from high school, her facerape count was only eleven… an impossibly low number for an attractive girl like her.

Since that fateful October afternoon, she hated blowing men on her knees. Until now. As she knelt between Viltis’s legs with her arms boxed behind her back and his hardening rod in her mouth, she felt at home. Viltis had an unnatural ability to put her mind at ease. She was able to lower her defenses while she was with him. She trusted him to be measured and principled, even in his abuse of her body. She was a woman, after all. She abhorred this unjust system of oppression and did her best to fight it in her own convoluted way, but at the end of the day, she had two cock-sized holes between her legs and one more on her face. She needed to be fucked and filled by a man. Nature demanded it. And no algorithm could beat nature.

“This case is no longer a simple spy hunt, Ms McKluge.”

Viltis’s commanding voice pulled Minerva out of her own thoughts. She looked up as she continued to suck him softly and slowly.

“I asked Agent Hoshiyaar to join the task force. He is an old colleague of mine, a data specialist who helped me with a prior data-leak case. I’m sure Section Eight has their own personnel, but I prefer to work with people I know.”

Minerva nodded. She already knew about Hoshiyaar. Right after she met Viltis at the Anthill, she obsessively researched him and found about everything she could. She knew he got a big promotion recently after he succesfully dealt with a top secret case, and she remembered that Agent Hoshiyaar was a member of his very small team. She didn’t have to be as smart as she was to deduce that the case had something to do with the Registry.

“His preliminary report suggests that the enemy had enough time to download 24% of the data accessible by the Haimdaller communicator. He is still trying to figure out exactly what data they were looking for and whether they managed to get it. For now, we’ll assume that they did. Personally I don’t care about the data breach itself. I’ll let Section Eight deal with it. I’ll focus on the Ayla Pekesnek case.”

Minerva nodded, but she was not really paying attention to his words. All she could think about was his big cock, which was now hard enough to fuck her again.

He looked down and patted her on the head. “I’d like to know what you think, Minerva. I’m sure you already have a few ideas in there” He grinned when she looked confused for a moment, unable to decide whether she should reply or continue to suck as previously ordered. “You may switch to a tit-job. I’ll have trouble understanding you if you attempt to talk with a cock in your mouth.”

“Yes Sir, Agent Viltis,” said Minerva and obediently wrapped her big tits around his erection. “If I were in their place, I’d just turn around and try to leave the country. They now realized that they have lost the element of surprise. They learned that we know a lot about them and their mission. They’ll figure out that we’ll just move the target and they won’t be able to finish their task now. Also, they already got more than they ever imagined. With the treasure trove of data they stole and the ex-slavecop they turned, it is smarter to abandon the original mission and get out. There is no need to concentrate on the Pekesnek any more. We should concentrate on their exit strategy and trap them inside our borders before they can move.”

“Very good rational analysis,” said Viltis. Minerva sensed a ‘but’ was coming. “But you are forgetting one important thing. Their mission was not ‘rational’ to begin with. They aren’t here to assassinate a BFA council member or steal some high-tech missile guidance system. They are here to rescue a dancer. A simple dancer. They are here because their feelings were hurt.”


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Minerva looked on as she dutifully massaged the man’s penis with her massive tits. “I don’t understand. The choice is clear to me. They simply cannot succeed after this point. We know their faces. We know they have a slavecop with them. And they kidnapped three of the Chief’s slaves for some reason. More dead weight to slow them down. It is no longer possible for them to-”

“Logically, yes. But they will go after the dancer, trust me. I can feel it.”
 

The Operation - 33​


“Ah! You are awake? Finally. I was getting worried.”

Ayla sat up hastily. She was disoriented and numb, and had the worst headache. Last thing she remembered was… being “utilized” by a couple of guards, of course, but that wasn’t a helpful clue at all. She was gangraped several times a day… or night. She didn’t know. She hadn’t seen the sun for weeks… months.

“Take it easy,” the soft voice said. “The master said your operation was a big success.”

The operation! Yes, brief flashes of moments started to rush back in. She remembered talking to the soft-speaking creepy surgeon and sucking his cock. Was it before or after the guard gangrape? After, perhaps. Her memories were still fragmented and fuzzy.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll be fine in a few minutes. The haze goes away. We all have been there.”

Ayla finally thought to look at the source of the soft reassuring voice. It was a young girl with auburn hair and a warm smile. She was roughly same age with her, and had the same body type, almost. Gracefully toned muscles, a swan-like long neck, slender body… She had an elegant, sophisticated air about her. Perhaps a dancer… A ballerina?

“Hi there,” she beamed when Ayla finally turned to her. “I’m twenty-three. Are you twenty-four?”

“What?” wheezed Ayla, and coughed to clear her throat. Her mouth was dry. She was thirsty. “My name is Ay-“ She looked around in sudden panic. “I mean Goldenwhore… my name is.”

“Oh, they named you already? So cool!” She pouted playfully. “You’re the first. They call me twenty-three, but I’m not sure that’s a name. Why twenty-three? It doesn’t mean anything.” Her beautiful face lit up as if she remembered something. “We have neighbors too. Seven girls by my count. One of them is called nine. There is also a thirteen, an eighteen… The rest, I don’t know.”

Ayla nodded absent-mindedly. She was hearing the words, but understanding only half of them. Her mind kept failing her. “Neighbors?” She looked around. It was a white room, similar to her usual cell, but cleaner, larger, better lit. It almost looked like a hospital room. The only furniture in there was the metal beds they were sitting on.

“It’s just the two of us here. Two girls in every room. Eight in total now,” Twenty-three explained when she saw Ayla’s puzzled expression.

Ayla nodded again. This was certainly a step-up from her former quarters. And it came with a friendly cellmate too. She turned and dangled her legs from the side of the metal slab. Her feet touched the polished concrete floor. She was of course fully naked, as she had been from day one, but something was different. A huge, glaring difference she realized that very moment. She wasn’t restrained. Not even handcuffs. She raised her hands and looked at them with wide eyes.

“Oh, no-no-no-no!” exclaimed the girl and turned her body to show her wrists crossed at her back. She wasn’t restrained either. “You’ll remain tied… At all times.”

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Ayla quickly crossed her wrists and ankles. Having her hands free felt weird anyway. Her wrists touching had an immediate calming effect on her nerves. She smiled and thanked the girl.

Aside from not being physically restrained, there was another big difference. She didn’t have cocks in her. Not even one.

“When do we start serving?” she asked nervously. “It’s been… For how long have I been sleeping?”

“Let’s see. We are gangraped every two hours. I was utilized twice since they brought you here, so, I’m going to guess… about five or six hours? It’s almost time for the next one by the way. Kinda getting excited.”

“Excited?”

“Yes, of course. My urges are… I kinda need it now. I mean, I guess I have always needed it… but it felt dirty and shameful before. Now, not so much.”

“By ‘it,’ you mean…”

“Getting raped, of course. Getting dicked down. Getting plowed, fucked, sodomized, throated… You know, Dr Grant told me this would happen, and frankly I didn’t believe him at first. I thought he was exaggerating. Even after the operation, I felt the same for a while. Nothing was different... Until the very first time they came in here.”

Noticing the question in Ayla’s eyes, the girl turned around to face her. “Three of them, to fill all three of my orifices properly. It started like any other rape. Of course, I was obedient and cooperative right from the beginning. I was hoping to survive with the least amount of beatings. But, to my surprise, I began to enjoy it as the violation progressed. Can’t remember if it was the second or third hole-rotation, but I found myself moaning aloud like a horny whore. They were roughing me up like always, slapping me often, choking me, and pulling my hair… but I liked it all. No, I loved it. It felt natural. It was like an epiphany. I felt like I found my purpose in life. I felt like a new woman. Reborn.”

Ayla’s eyes widened. She was thinking clearer now. She remembered the unnerving speech Dr Grant gave her earlier. What did he say? He would kill her and then breathe into her new life. A woman reborn, with her mind and body fully synchronized to obediently fulfill its natural purpose. Serving and pleasing men in every way possible.”

“You… They changed you. The operation… Can you feel the thing they inserted in there? Can you feel it working, somehow?”

“No-no, it’s nothing like that,” the other chirped. “It’s like the good doctor said. They didn’t put some high-tech restraint in there, they took out the restraints I already had. They liberated me. I always knew what I was for. I was just ashamed of it. Not any more! I grew up. Transcended. This is maturity, perfection. Graduation, perhaps.” She paused and smiled. “Oh, I wonder if we’ll be allowed to leave this school one day and serve all men! I want to please them all.”

Ayla opened her mouth to say something, but the words froze in her mouth when she heard footsteps in the distance. Three men, by her count.

“Yes! Here they come!” exclaimed the girl and jumped off the metal bed. “Quickly, get down on your knees. Wrists and ankles together, mouth open, tongue out. You’re not allowed to talk, so beg with your eyes.”

She did exactly as she said and Ayla quickly followed her example. She didn’t share her cellmate’s enthusiasm, but she wasn’t going to do anything that might anger her new rapists.

Exactly five seconds later, the door opened and three men entered. Ayla quickly lowered her eyes. They unzipped their pants without saying a word. Two of the men grabbed the girls by their hair and shoved their erect dicks in their opened mouths. At that moment Ayla was sure that she was in a different facility, in the care of different guards. She had never served this particular cock before.

As her new rapist started to fuck her face, Ayla started to worry. She couldn’t see her cellmate getting throated, but she could hear her soft, desire-filled moans and slurps. It was obvious that she was enjoying the treatment she was getting. Was Ayla going to turn into a shameless whore like her? Will she have an “epiphany” like twenty-three? Or maybe… perhaps this was just a cheap trick to mess with her mind. There was no mind control chip, no whore-maker implant… Yes, of course. It was just a hoax. This girl was obviously an actor, playing her part to brain-wash Ayla.

The men fucked the girls’ mouths for several minutes. When they were done, they pulled them up, turned them around and bent them over the metal beds. Ayla did her best to keep her wrists and ankles together while being manhandled like a fuckdoll. She screwed up and parted her ankles for half a second when she hit the table tits-first, but the men didn’t seem to notice it.

The girls were immediately penetrated in the pussy and a rough violation started. Only then Ayla noticed that the third man was actually Dr. Grant. He was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, quietly admiring his handywork. Ayla didn’t want to make eye contact with the creepy guy, but the man who was fucking her from behind kept pulling her hair back violently, leaving her eye to eye with the surgeon.

Judging by the sounds she made, twenty-three was having the time of her life. Screams of pleasure, breathy moans and intermittent begging for harder and deeper penetration echoed in the room.

After a few minutes, Grant looked at his watch and smiled. “That’s my girl,” he said and patted Ayla on the head. Then it hit her… It was her. The screams of pleasure. The loud moans. Even the begging. She didn’t understand how it happened, and when it happened, but she was enjoying the rape immensely. It was an intense pleasure… Relief. It felt natural and warm.


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The men continued to fuck the girls to delirious heights and both were rewarded with mind-breaking orgasms. When her rapist finally pulled out of her and left her panting on the bed, she didn’t feel pain or shame. She was was filled with satisfaction and gratitude... And cum, as usual.

“We have to keep the standard violation regime for a few more days and observe how she reacts, but I can tell the operation was a success, doc,” said the man who gave Ayla the best orgasm she ever had in her life. “I could feel it on my cock.”

“Unfortunately I cannot put that in the final report, Dr Horring,” laughed Grant. “But I agree. The operation was a success. I’ll inform this… what was his name? You know, that robotic scarecrow?”

“Viltis?”

“That’s the one. And we are not following the usual violation procedure with her. The guy wants to move her to a secure place for some reason. As soon as possible, he said.”

“Move her? What about the trial-cunts?”

Grant walked up to twenty-three and caressed her cheek gently. The girl beamed with gratitude. “The trials? I don’t know. We don’t have the budget to maintain them. I think I’ll take one of them home, for my own use. Nine, perhaps. She was the first one to survive the procedure, so she has sentimental value.”

“The others?”

“Whatever. You guys want one each?”

“I’ll take one,” twenty-three’s rapist said. “Dibs on eighteen!”

“Goddamit Bobby,” the other groaned. “Fine, I’ll take eleven then.”

“There you go. It’s decided. The rest, dispose of them properly this time, will you?”
 

The Operation - 34​



“You surprised me, Doctor Grant,” said Viltis in monotone, showing no signs of the said feeling. “I expected you to complain and protest. I’m here to take away your greatest accomplishment.”

“I’m sure Dr Akuma protested long and hard for the both of us. I know the futility of fighting Pussianan bureaucracy, especially the BFA.” He paused and looked at the naked woman kneeling by his side. “My greatest accomplishment, you said? Actually, my greatest accomplishment is locked in a cell downstairs. Technically our sweet girl here is just a successful repeat of the original experiment.” He gently stroke Ayla’s hair, which made the young woman flinch.

“Yes, I understand you had multiple trial-runs before you altered our valued asset. Twenty-three, if I remember correctly?”

“Eight survived. Now you are shutting us down, we are going to terminate them too, unfortunately.”

“Not necessary,” interrupted Viltis. “You’ll keep them under observation. Now that our asset is implanted, we want to be prepared for long-term effects. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you have your funding to develop the next-gen device.”

“You’ll keep us funded? Akuma didn’t inform me about that.”

“I didn’t tell him,” grinned Viltis. “I enjoy watching his face turn bright red with impotent rage. You can let him know after a few days.”

Grant laughed and grabbed Ayla by the hair. He pulled up to force her rise on her knees. “Would you like to give her a try?” He pointed at Minerva, who had been sitting by Viltis quietly. “I see you brought your own sexretary. A quick swap, perhaps?”

“Ms McKluge isn’t for raping,” said Viltis coldly. “She is my analyst.”

The way he shot the doctor down filled Minerva with a warm fuzzy feeling. A chivalric moment? Almost like out of a romance novel.

She was, of course, ready and willing to serve Viltis in any way possible. She’d drop down on her knees right there and then if he wanted to use her mouth. She’d even suck the surgeon’s cock gladly to please Viltis.

Working hard to suppress a stupid smile, she looked at Ayla, the woman who launched a thousand ships. She was certainly an exceptional specimen, a perfect mixture of graceful strength and inviting vulnerability. Definitely one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen in her life.

The dancer had a seductive sadness in her pretty eyes, respectfully lowered at the moment, but definitely capable of telling a long tale with a momentary look, or melting a cold heart with a single tear.

Minerva was fascinated. A tiny object placed in the folds of her brain, capable of flooding her with hormones at will, changing her body chemistry, altering her likes, dislikes, and ultimately thought processes? The horror! It was the most terrifying thing Minerva could think of. No free will. No rational thought. How could one trust her feelings and urges with something like that buried deep in her head?

“How does the device work, Dr Grant?” she asked with the courage Viltis gave her a moment ago. “Do you have an external control device to condition her, or is it fully automated?”

“Both possible,” Grant replied with one eyebrow raised. Minerva could easily see that the man had no respect for her. His job was literally playing with women’s brains, altering them the way he liked, and sending them down to the furnace when he’s done with them. A surgeon with a god complex was a common thing, but Grant would definitely be an extreme case. “We developed a basic model that regularly induces and reinforces sexual urges, an overall need to please, respectfulness and humility. You know, all the qualities a woman should have. Once we implant it, it slowly but surely pushes the female towards her ideal form. No external intervention required.”

“How long does it take, on average? How does it progress? What are the observable symptoms, and…”

“The terminology you are using is interesting, young lady,” interrupted Grant sternly. “Progression, symptoms… You see this as a disease. No, it isn’t a malaise, it is a cure. It cures the long lasting effects of malicious social conditioning our glorious revolution meant to eradicate, the scummy residue of defiance some females somehow retained until this day. It restores their nature. It returns women to their factory settings.”

“I meant no disrespect, Sir,” Minerva retreated. “I’m regretfully not familiar with medical terminology to adequately converse with an accomplished expert such as yourself.”

“I guess you wouldn’t be.” Grant leaned back and put his hand on Ayla’s head, as if she was his pet. “The answer to your question is a little over two-months. That’s the amount of time required to turn a tiger into a fluffy kitty. The change is gradual, barely noticeable. Of course, this is under perfect laboratory conditions. We rape our girls regularly here. With an unbanded female such as yourself, the process would take significantly longer.”

“What about the other way, Sir? This young woman was implanted with the active training chip, if I understand correctly.”

“Yes. She and the other seven can be trained to ‘like’ or ‘dislike’ anything. How quickly? That depends on the trainer’s preference.”

“Likes? Is it not behavioral training?” asked Viltis.

“What is behavioral training if not an efficient management of the subject’s preferences? For example, I can make her love the taste of cardboard or hate the sound of a violin. I can make her crave the taste of cum, or make sure that she feels sad if she didn’t kiss my feet every 5 minutes. The implant gives me the ability to create urges, cravings, compulsions and passions deep inside her core. Once they are created, behavior follows naturally.”

“Very impressive, Sir,” commented Minerva. She was fascinated and horrified at the same time. It was a just an algorithm, not too different from hers, only with chemicals. “And you… successfully managed to realize these goals?”

“We managed to do that with the other subjects, yes,” replied the man. “Goldenwhore was implanted only yesterday, and you are taking her away already. So, I’ll leave her in your masters’ capable hands. I’m sure the good men at the BFA have something specific in mind for her.”

“Yes we do,” smiled Viltis. “Perhaps you could give us a quick demonstration.”

“Very well. Let’s begin with something humiliating, shall we?” He turned to Ayla and pointed to his feet. “Goldenwhore, kiss my shoes! Lick them clean!”

Ayla looked at the man for a second with sad puppy eyes, and bowed down to land a peck on each shoe. Then she started to clean them with her tongue.

“That’s a good girl,” the doctor said and picked up a tablet from the desk next to him. “This is, of course, not really impressive. Any woman who was raped and beaten regularly like this little whore would eventually learn to obey commands without hesitation. But now, while she is performing the task she finds humiliating and disgusting, I’ll launch the ‘positive’ reinforcement program. Her system will be flooded with the exact mixture of hormones that will make her happy, satisfied, fulfilled.” He pressed a button and grinned. “Et voila! Repeat this regularly, several times a day, and licking shoes will become her life’s purpose in no time.”

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Minerva looked at the girl’s face intently, trying to see some kind of change in her expression. She didn’t notice any.

“As I said earlier, young lady,” squinted Grant, “gradual and barely noticeable.”

Minerva turned to the man and forced a smile.

“Of course, Dr Akuma's team had been working on this little kitten since the Slave Fair. She had the basic chip, and she was conditioned by traditional brain-washing techniques on top of that. She’s become a very good whore very quickly. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

“Yes Sir, Dr Grant, sir,” Ayla responded and continued to lick his shoes dutifully. This time Minerva almost heard a tinge of enthusiasm in the slavegirl’s voice.

“Good girl,” he said and kicked the girl away. “Now let’s do something sexual, eh? Why don’t you crawl to our esteemed guest and beg to suck his cock, sweetheart?”

“Yes Master,” said the girl and turned around to face Viltis. She assumed a perfect begging stance and lowered her eyes. “Would you please let this cunt serve your cock, Sir?”

“No,” replied the agent with a smile. “I have absolutely no desire to fuck you, slave.”

Ayla froze on her knees, not knowing what to do. She remembered this stone-faced man visiting her before. She wasn’t sure if he raped her or not during his visits.

“You’ll serve Ms McKluge instead. Go ahead and beg her.”

Minerva almost jumped from her chair. “Me? But I…”

“Open your legs and lean back, Minerva,” smiled Viltis. “That’s an order.”

“Yes Sir, Agent Viltis Sir,” Minerva replied as she always did. She was nervous, but the prospect of getting eaten by such a beautiful woman excited her immensely.

She could see the disappointment on Dr Grant’s face. The man certainly didn’t like the idea of pleasuring a woman, albeit indirectly. Did Viltis trap him for her? Punish the asshole surgeon for the way he talked to her and gift her sexual pleasure in the process? Two birds one stone? No, it couldn’t be. It was the monogamous agent’s usual modus operandi... Wasn’t it?

It didn’t matter for the naked woman on her knees. She wanted this to be over as a soon as possible. She didn’t like uncertainty, indecision. She didn’t like to be idle or unused. Or did she? How could she be sure now that she had a mood regulator in her head?

“Would you please let this cunt lick your pussy, ma’am?” she asked respectfully.

“Y-yes,” stammered Minerva. She quickly looked at Viltis as she awkwardly opened her legs and pulled her skirt up. Her heart was beating like a drum.

Ayla didn’t hesitate. She crawled in position and dove face first into Minerva’s excited crotch. This wasn’t the first pussy she ever licked in her life. All women, even in the free world, tried it more than once or twice, of course. It was simply a mathematical necessity. The world was full of women, and there wasn’t enough cocks to suck. At least that was what she thought before she was kidnapped and brought to this “land of incessant gangrapes.”

She didn’t notice Grant activating her “bliss response” with her face buried between the analyst woman’s long legs. Her juices tasted sweeter with every flick of her tongue, and her fragrance become more and more intoxicating. Minerva’s whimpers and moans were getting louder as she licked her slit with increasing enthusiasm and fervor. In a couple minutes, she entirely forgot where she was. She was happy to be there, stuck between this beautiful woman’s shapely thighs. It was like a safe haven, cozy and welcoming. She liked the way her pussy reacted to the touch of her lips. She loved the way the other trembled and melted every time she stuck her tongue deep in her hole. What a wonderful way to spend the evening… No, all day. She could stay there the entire day and pleasure this woman. It was great.

Soon her quivering victim lost control of her body and began to shake violently. Ayla picked up the pace to push her over the edge, into a mind-breaking climax. As the woman’s vagina exploded onto her face, strong waves of elation and happiness hit Ayla too. Once the deed was done and Minerva collapsed back onto her chair, she felt satisfied and relaxed. This was one of the best sensations she felt ever.

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The Operation - 35​


“This is the fake registry record they created for the woman. A Marisa Wolfson, married, CMR-ed by husband Alexander Wolfson. All her details are fake, of course. They just picked random corpometrics from our Registry databases and created a fake file. They sculpted a “manyface” that kinda looks like her and hundreds of other women. It’s a very good job. Perhaps even better than the forgeries we discovered with the Prancer cas-“

“Good job, Agent Hoshiyaar,” interrupted Viltis. “Let’s not bore our team members with the details of our old cases.”

Hoshiyaar pushed his thick framed glasses back in place with an embarrassed expression. “Yes Sir, of course.”

“This ‘manyface’ thing you’re talking about,” Anders started, “is that what it sounds like? A composite image? Not her real photo?”

“No-Yes, that’s right,” stammered the tech agent. “I know what you’re thinking. They probably created a few more fake IDs for her, just in case. They must have created separate composites, not similar to this one, but as convincing. I took the liberty of running a search before coming here so we could have a list of suspects. Unfortunately, there are 284581 entries on that list.”

“Don’t we have paper copies of this stuff?” pressed Anders. “To verify and find out this kind of fakes?”

“Not since we went fully digital 12 years ago,” replied Hoshiyaar before the other could finish his question. “Unfortunately this leaves our databases vulnerable to high-level attacks such as this.”

“Yeah, but it creates employment opportunities for you lot, eh?” Anders squinted at Hoshiyaar and Minerva, in a comically theatrical way.

“Not every agent cruises around in a personal blowjob cabin and relaxes with a cold beverage while his A-S chases scared bunnies, Agent Anders,” said Viltis. “Someone has to stay behind and do the real work that keeps the system running.”

Anders grudgingly swallowed a vicious comeback. He hated Viltis even before meeting him. His dislike had grown manifold since. He knew that he was outnumbered in the task force as the only uniformed agent, and he didn’t want to be kicked out before he had a chance to grab Cumgulper by the throat.

Once again, Minerva felt like Viltis was protecting her… or perhaps his older colleague, against this meathead. She felt a familiar tingle between her legs. But this sudden surge of machismo made her uneasy too. When tensions rose between men, more often than not, it was released in the form of violence against the women present. She felt safe with Viltis, but her life-long conditioning forced her to try and defuse the situation as quickly as possible anyway.

“Master-Agent Anders raises a good point,” she said. “There may be no paper copies to verify the veracity of the records, but there are other databases, digital and physical. For example, the medical network would have records of post-rape rehab for almost all women. I wonder if the Ottohuns thought of creating parallel forgeries there.”

“Yes,” exclaimed Hoshiyaar. “That’s a genius idea, Agent McKluge. The security of the medical network was increased recently after a case exposed its weaknesses. Fake identities created after that date would have no records of treatment. This will narrow the list down to a few thousand suspects, perhaps.”

“They can hack the Registry but not the medical network?” snickered Anders. “Sounds like ironclad logic to me.”

“They can hack it, if they try hard enough,” said Hoshiyaar. “But with the med-net, we have paperwork to verify the records.”

Anders made a face. “Well, I’m glad my job is driving a blowjob cabin around. I certainly wouldn’t enjoy going through medical records.” He immediately regretted his words when he saw a grin appear at the corner of Viltis’ irritatingly thin lips.

“You hop in that flying coffin and head to the Ministry of Health, Anders. Enlist the help of several uniformed officers and eyeses if necessary.”

Anders swore under his breath and left the room.

“Do you need anything else from me?” asked Hoshiyaar after a few seconds.

“The photos of these spies,” Viltis replied. “Do we have them or not?”

“Not… They somehow managed to evade all cameras in their path. As you know, Bitcham is basically a no-camera zone because of all the… higher ups living there. We have a few blurry images from the Heimdaller camera at the FTZ, nothing more. Whenever they interacted with people, they used corpometry-disrupting disguises.”

“They are good,” Viltis said. “They travelled from the coast to Bitcham, and who-knows-where after that, without being caught in our camera networks? They have a wanted criminal with them too.”

“We should set up roadblocks and checkpoints around Bitcham,” suggested the tech with little self-confidence in his voice.

“They won’t move anywhere for a while,” dismissed the Agent. “They learned a lot about us, about what we know, what we do, but they still don’t know the location of the target. We moved her immediately, and they must have expected that.” He paused. “ What would I do if I were them?”

“You’d stay put and wait for the enemy to make a mistake. They expected us to act in panic or rage. That’s why they chose Nagel, the head of the SEFR, and that’s why they did all that to him, cut his… you know... and stole his personal slaves… Everything they did was to humiliate us. In order to make us overreact.” Minerva barely suppressed a smile when she was talking about what happened to Nagel. Their beloved chief was still in the ICU, in serious condition. She’d pray for his death if she had a single religious bone in her body.

“Then let’s overreact!” exclaimed Viltis. “They overreacted themselves, sent a team because they were humiliated. We kidnapped their celebrity dancer, whip-stripped her on stage at a widely-televised event, had her gangraped by the audience all day, then set up a website that broadcasted her violations 24-7. Their feelings were hurt. Let’s hurt them more.”

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“Are you suggesting a honey trap, Master-Agent?”

“A big one. With enough honey to catch a bunch of wasps. Another big event, perhaps? Is there a slave fair approaching?”

“There are a few regional fairs, but nothing as big as the Maidenf-”

“The Harvest Festival!” Hoshiyaar exclaimed. “They will have female-auctions and mass-rape events all around the cow-country, but the one at Randyville is quite big. I’m taking my father there next week. He needs a new maid-slave and-”

“That’s good,” interrupted Viltis with an unusually big grin. “Let’s give those hay-munching hicks a good boost. State funds to enhance the festivities. International TV coverage. A big promotional campaign to match. And let’s give the world a spectacular crescendo with a celebrity dancer from a pre-slavery country, begging to be gangraped in front of the cameras.”

He turned to Minerva and smiled, human-like. “We need eyes on this. Especially from the pre-slavery countries. And I know exactly what we need” He leaned over his desk and pressed the button on the communicator. “Gloria, call that balding toad from the Ministry of Propaganda. What was his name? Holm. Garrison Holm. Tell him I need a small favor.”



* * *

Holm smiled and leaned back in his armchair. He raised his finger like an orchestra conductor and opened his mouth, ready to give the command.

“Wait! Please!”

Melody dropped down to her knees and looked into the director’s eyes pleadingly.

“Please, sir. I’ll do anything you want. Please… Just tell me what to do.”

The director's stone face gave way to a grin. “Come here,” he commanded after letting her tremble for a few more seconds.

The naked sexretary swiftly crawled towards her boss with tears in he eyes and knelt between his legs. Holm gestured to the other men in the room to leave, which they quickly did as Melody started to unzip Holm’s pants.

“When was the last time you sucked my cock, Svinina?”

“The day you assigned me to the Jasiri case, Sir,” she answered and took his semi-erect organ out of his pants.

“You are very good at it. I usually fuck Helen’s stupid face in your absence. She has a decent facehole, but I prefer yours, certainly.”


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“Thank you, Sir,” replied Melody with a forced smile. Her expression wasn’t as convincing as usual. Perhaps because of the terror she experienced only a couple of minutes ago… She held his cock in her left hand and started to lick the shaft from base to tip, the way he liked.

“Of course, you’d be good at it. You were raised in a farm in the north.”

“Yes Sir, Old Hickory, near Randyville.” She moved down and shifted her focus on his balls. It was obvious that he had questions for her, and she was experienced enough to delay throating until he was done asking them.

“Yes, The Svinin Ranch. A mid-size, 4-barn farm, 11 mother-hens, 45 soon-to-be-fucktoys.”

“Yes Sir,” she replied and continued to lick. She was getting nervous about all that talk about her past. The man had little reason to know all that about a simple sexretary like her. She was nothing but a warm mouth to fuck.

“How did they let you go?” Holm asked and slapped her big tits. “Why are you licking my balls at the capital and not being milked like your sisters somewhere in a barn?”

“I'm not a cow, Sir,” she said almost proudly. “My mother… she’s my father’s actual wife. She isn’t a breeder.” She went back to licking his shaft.

“A love child? How quaint,” said Holm. “But you were trained in the oral arts nevertheless”

“Yes, of course. My father is a responsible man. He wanted her daughter to have all the necessary life skills… I know how to serve men well.”

“That you do,” said Holm and grabbed her hair tightly before shoving his cock in her mouth. Melody flinched but started to suck dutifully.

“I know you are conflicted about these two foreigners. They treat you like a human, don’t they? But we both know that you’re not one, Svinina. You are a woman. A cock pleaser. A set of warm holes. A juicy piece of meat for men to tenderize, chew on, and spit out.”

“Yes Sir,” she moaned on his cock. Her eyes were tearing up again.

“The mofos in the BFA High Council have their own plans for the foreigners. Believe me, they are doomed. You don’t want to go down with them, do you?”

She shook her head with his cock shoved deep inside her throat.

“Very well. Earlier at my office, they talked about visiting the Rape festival during the Harvest. My previous orders were to restrict their access, but now, someone wants them to go there and film everything. They actually want them to make a fuss, complain, bring international attention to the event. Not sure why.”

He put both hands on Melody’s head and grabbed two fistfuls of her hair. Then, using them as handles, he started to skullfuck the young woman violently. Initially caught off-guard by his attack, Melody swiftly adapted and relaxed her jaw, letting him full access to her tertiary orifice. She had extensive experience in serving ministry personnel, and men in general. And of course, she was well-instructed by all the mother-hens at the farm.

Holm’s violation of her mouth got harder and faster for a few more seconds and finally slowed down once he started to unload his man-juice into her obedient mouth. Melody wrapped her full lips around his shaft to keep the warm liquid in. As soon as he finished, she looked up with pleading eyes for his command. It came in the form of a slight nod, and she swallowed her salty reward in two big gulps, without breaking the lip seal around his meat.

He pulled out without saying a word and slapped her twice on both cheeks as usual. She respectfully sat back on her heels and thanked for the facerape and slaps separately.

“You may put on your clothes now,” said Holm after tucking his cock back in his pants. “You’ll go back to your room and wait for further instructions. Do whatever they say for the next few days. You’ll report everything back. Every little detail, are we clear?”

“Yes Sir,” she replied with a barely audible voice.

“You’ll accompany them to the north in a few days. You’ll take them to your family ranch, perhaps. Show them how your half-sisters prepare for their auction. Show them every little dirty detail, the abuse, the injustice, eh? Make them angry. Especially that Jasiri woman… She is prone to lose her temper anyway. Can you do that, Svinina?”
 

The Journey - 24​


Melody kept staring at the greyed spot on the ceiling right above her head. As if in an inescapable fever dream, her mind was trying in vain to make sense of the weird shape. Was it a broken wine glass, or an old-timey key?

She was tired. Every time she closed her eyes and managed to fall asleep, she woke up in terror a few minutes later. It was always the same nightmare, only slightly different. She was kneeling in a cold, dark room, naked and bound, shivering. She was surrounded by men with impossibly huge dicks. Sometimes they were naked, sometimes in neatly pressed suits. No, it wasn’t a gangrape. They weren’t there to fuck her. They were there to congratulate her… To witness her big day… To watch her banding.

It always ended with one of them approaching her with a band in his hand. She woke up the moment he grabbed her by the throat.

Sweating profusely, she sat up on the bed and put her feet in the cheap slippers provided by the hotel. Another 30 seconds passed as her confused and exhausted mind tried to adjust to the planet's gravity.

Once she managed to think properly again, her mind went back to the day she decided to leave the farm. It was a week before the harvest festival, at the annual Svinin Ranch communal breakfast. All her half sisters and mother hens were gathered around the big table, “celebrating” the girls who were selected to be auctioned off. Melody remembered that day like it was yesterday, vividly. She remembered the faces of her sisters, eleven girls that year, to be enslaved and sent to the festival depot. She remembered the looks of despair and sorrow in their pretty big eyes. None knew her destiny. Would they find their way into the harem of a well-to-do city slicker and become fuckmeat, or end up as a simple milk-cow in a cheese factory?

Enslaving girls before the auction wasn’t necessary, but her father did it every year anyway. Perhaps it was his way of making the transition a little bit less traumatic for them? To soften the blow? Melody wasn’t sure back then, but now, thinking back, she realized that it was an act of kindness. The servonyms he gave them were never as degrading as the BFA handbook suggested. He always picked names like Wildflower, Morningstar, or Springbreeze…

Of course, those servonyms only lasted until the auction, where their new owners immediately changed them to something like Whoremeat, Sluttycow, or Fuckfilly.

She stood up and went to the bathroom. The memory of her sisters’ banding continued to unfold before her mind’s eye as she took a quick shower. She remembered them lining up and kneeling before their father after the awkward meal, trembling, tears in their eyes. Jeffrey Konstig from the neighboring farm was there to officiate it. Almost all ranchers had authorization to enslave, with the exception of Melody’s father, who for some reason never got his license from the BFA.

It was a very “clinical” ceremony. Boring, even. Her father would name the girls one by one and Konstig would write them down. It was all done in a few minutes. Then everybody hugged the newly enslaved sisters goodbye before they were properly restrained, leashed, and loaded into the cage truck. They were then taken to the festival depot to wait for the auction, never to be seen again.


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The moment the truck disappeared in the distance was the point Melody decided to leave the farm. She wasn’t afraid of sharing the same fate with her barned half-siblings. Her father never signaled any intention to sell her. She was his only “real” daughter. A love child he conceived with his beloved wife. A rare privilege.

But Melody desperately wanted to leave that place anyway. The constant misery that surrounded her was gnawing on her soul. She had developed an extreme case of survivor’s guilt too. It was hard being the only girl in that little world of theirs, who wasn’t bred and raised as rape cattle. She always felt weird for being the only girl who was allowed to wear clothes. Her conscience couldn’t handle it any more.

She went upstairs and asked her mother to beg her father in her behalf. She didn’t know what her mother said to him, but after a few hours, her father came to her room, patted her on the head, and handed her a wad of cash. Seed money for her first freedom permit.

Three days later, she was on a southbound bus. Naive and inexperienced, she left behind the safety of her father’s house, only to fall face first into a forest of dicks in the big city.

And now, almost 5 years later to the day, she was ordered to go back to her childhood home. She was still in contact with her parents, of course, but she never intended to return there. Now she was going to take two foreigners with her, give them a jolly tour around the barns and introduce them to her half-sisters she didn’t really know anything about.

She dressed quickly and left the room. She crossed the corridor and stopped in front of the guests’ suite. She straightened up, took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

“Come on in, Melody!”

Aaah! The sound of Marcel’s voice immediately blew away the dark cloud which had been following the young woman since the night before and filled her heart with joy. She opened the door and entered with a big genuine smile.

“Melody, come here, please!” he yelled from his room. “We need your help!”

She rushed in there, only to find the cameraman lying on his bed, with a tied Nora sitting next to him. She was wearing a see-through nightie, and she was handcuffed. Melody assumed that the two were play-acting this new pretend master-slave dynamic before she arrived.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” greeted the big guy. “Could you please help Nora here understand her new duties as my new cunt?”

“I’m your what now?” exclaimed Nora angrily. “What the fuck, Marce!”

“You shouldn’t call her that, Mr Nguvu,” said Melody.

“See?” the beautiful reporter said, “even our Pussianan sexretary finds that inappropriate.”

“Ms Jasiri isn’t a cunt. She is just a slut. These are legal terms in Pussiana. You have to enslave her first to call her your cunt.”

“Oh for godssake!” exclaimed the Saharan woman. “Don’t you give him crazy ideas. He is acting weirder and weirder since yesterday. And now he is badgering me about a morning rite?”

“The morning ritual?” asked Melody. “Sure, I can help with that. I can guide you to perform it properly. Or better yet, I can perform it myself, if you like?”

“What is it exactly?” asked Nora and shook her handcuffs. “Apparently I had to be restrained to do it.”

“You don’t have to be restrained. But you have to restrain yourself. It is a special type of low-intensity, slow-tempo oral service performed in the morning.”

“You wanted me to wake you up with a blowjob? Is it what this is?” asked Nora, still with an irritated voice. “I think I did that once already. Remember? At that seedy Jinü-Mauchunbu border hotel, was it?”

“Oh yeah,” Marcel chuckled. “But that doesn’t count. You woke me up in the middle of the night so I could fuck you to sleep. That was a selfish act on your part. You used me to cure your insomnia.”

“That’s unacceptable,” interrupted Melody. “All that matters is the master’s pleasure. You exist… We exist to please him, not the other way around.”

“Hold on!” said the other with raised eyebrows. “Yesterday was kinda fun, but why are you still calling him master? Isn’t that also a legal term? You are a freewoman. A slut, not a cunt, as you mentioned.”

“Actually, no,” smiled Nora. “You can call him Master, even he doesn’t officially own you. You should, anyway.” She subtly looked up. “People would expect you to show respect to the man you’re serving.” She continued when Nora nodded. “I call Mr Nguvu my master because he is… he is my master. If he was a citizen, I’d immediately surrender to him right this moment. I’d gladly devote my life to him and become his loyal slave.”

A long silence followed Melody’s sudden confession of devotion. Neither Marcel nor Nora knew how to respond to her words. The man opened his mouth to say something, perhaps a simple thank you, but nothing came out.

“Unfortunately, that’s not possible,” smiled Melody after a while. She didn’t really wanted to say all that, but she didn’t regret it. She didn’t feel awkward, nor was disappointed that he didn’t respond. No, she was relieved, actually.

“So…” started Nora, in order to change the subject. “What am I supposed to do? He is already awake. Should I suck him anyway, or…”

“Hush!” interrupted the sexretary. “Be silent and wait for your master’s orders.”

Nora huffed and pursed her lips. She looked at Marcel with a soft frown.

A grin spread around Marcel’s big face. “I can’t believe that she hushed you! Now that’s something I never thought I’d see in my life.”

“How can I please you, master?” squinted Nora. She wasn’t amused, but she was playing along for some reason.

“Continental,” he said and dropped his head back on his pillow.

“Continental? What the fuck does that even mean?”

“A style of oral service,” explained Melody. “Reduced to its essence, it means ‘no body contact except for the mouth.’ He should feel nothing but your lips and tongue.”

“Fine!” exclaimed the reporter and raised herself on her knees. “Let’s try it.” She awkwardly bent over the man’s crotch, and hovered over his semi erect monster of a cock for a few seconds. After a plan of attack shaped in her head, she lowered her lips to give the organ a few pecks along the shaft. Her soft touch made his cock swell and spring up as if it was hit by a magic spell. Nora smiled and caught the tip between her full lips, and held it like that for a few seconds before pushing her head down to suck in a mouthful of his meat.

A little groan escaped the big guy’s mouth when she pressed further down and let his full length disappear in her eager mouth. Now with tip lodged in her throat, Nora skillfully started to use her tongue to massage him.

“A surprisingly masterful first attempt,” commented the blonde sexretary. “See? It’s not that complicated. Now, suck him slowly and softly, until he orders you to pick up the pace or starts skullfucking you himself.”

Nora was surprised, not only because she found herself extremely turned on by the lewd act she was performing on her friend, but also because she enjoyed hearing praise from Melody’s lips. She had little respect for the blonde sexretary and wouldn’t give a rat’s ass about her opinions on any topic… with the exception of sex, perhaps. Melody certainly knew a thing or two about pleasing men, and the girl’s genuine praise of her cocksucking technique made Nora feel very good, somehow. What a weird turn of events that was!

“How can I enhance your pleasure, Master?” asked the blonde as Nora continued bobbing on the man’s cock enthusiastically.

Marcel raised his head and looked at the girl for a moment. “Spank her!” He ordered with a slight grin. “Every three seconds. Hard spanks, both ass-cheeks.” He expected Nora to stop and give her a stern look, but no, no such response. The beautiful Saharan reporter kept giving his dick a good tongue polishing, even after Melody gave her a couple hards slaps on her round bottom. Magic was in the air.


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He straightened up a little to see better. Nora was hunching over him, her lips sliding up and down his shaft. Her quiet moans punctuated with loud smacks and consequent whimpers. It was a strange scene to behold. It was too much. Not long after, he passed the point of no return and exploded into Nora’s warm mouth with little warning. She was surprised for a moment, but managed to keep it all in, and swallowed like a pro.

“Always remember to show your appreciation for the opportunity to serve,” said Melody after giving the reporter one last spank on her left butt-cheek.

“Thank you Marcel,” said Nora, with a skewed smile, and lied down next to him with her head on his chest. She sounded sarcastic, but not completely, Marcel thought.

“And thank you Melody,” said Marcel. “Not a bad start for the day, eh? I can certainly get used to this morning ritual thing. So… Back to business. What’s next on today’s schedule? Were you able to convince your bosses to let us talk to someone at the SEFR?”

“I don’t think they’ll let you in there, Master Nguvu,” the sexretary replied, “not after what happened at the Girl-Mart the other day. But I have some good news. I was informed that we had the green light to visit the Harvest Festival at Randyville next week.”
 

The Journey - 23​


please
I checked Erenisch Twitter, and there was no post about chapter 23 of 'the Journey".
I cannot be sure since I'm not subscribed to their subscribestar, but I think it's possible that this latest chapter was mis-numbered by the author, and is, in fact chapter 23 and not chapter 24. Hopefully, we will know more eventually.
 
The text at the beginning of "the Operation" chapter 34 (until the first image) is the same as at the end of chapter 33 (after the second image).

The men continued to fuck the girls to delirious heights and both were rewarded with mind-breaking orgasms. When her rapist finally pulled out of her and left her panting on the bed, she didn’t feel pain or shame. She was was filled with satisfaction and gratitude... And cum, as usual.

“We have to keep the standard violation regime for a few more days and observe how she reacts, but I can tell the operation was a success, doc,” said the man who gave Ayla the best orgasm she ever had in her life. “I could feel it on my cock.”

“Unfortunately I cannot put that in the final report, Dr Horring,” laughed Grant. “But I agree. The operation was a success. I’ll inform this… what was his name? You know, that robotic scarecrow?”

“Viltis?”

“That’s the one. And we are not following the usual violation procedure with her. The guy wants to move her to a secure place for some reason. As soon as possible, he said.”

“Move her? What about the trial-cunts?”

Grant walked up to twenty-three and caressed her cheek gently. The girl beamed with gratitude. “The trials? I don’t know. We don’t have the budget to maintain them. I think I’ll take one of them home, for my own use. Nine, perhaps. She was the first one to survive the procedure, so she has sentimental value.”

“The others?”

“Whatever. You guys want one each?”

“I’ll take one,” twenty-three’s rapist said. “Dibs on eighteen!”

“Goddamit Bobby,” the other groaned. “Fine, I’ll take eleven then.”

“There you go. It’s decided. The rest, dispose of them properly this time, will you?”

As a result, chapter 34 seems quite short in comparison to the other, and we don't have context for the first image.

Whenever you have time @xxfluffydeathxx could you double check on Erenisch Subscribestar that there is no difference between its chapter 34 and this one?
It would be strange, but then again, so is the duplicate text. It looks like it could be an error from Erenisch. Otherwise, It really feels like we are missing at least one phrase to set the scene at the beginning between the duplicate text and the first image...).

Also, thank you for the clarifications on "the Journey" chapter 23. (And for sharing all this).
 
The text at the beginning of "the Operation" chapter 34 (until the first image) is the same as at the end of chapter 33 (after the second image).

The men continued to fuck the girls to delirious heights and both were rewarded with mind-breaking orgasms. When her rapist finally pulled out of her and left her panting on the bed, she didn’t feel pain or shame. She was was filled with satisfaction and gratitude... And cum, as usual.

“We have to keep the standard violation regime for a few more days and observe how she reacts, but I can tell the operation was a success, doc,” said the man who gave Ayla the best orgasm she ever had in her life. “I could feel it on my cock.”

“Unfortunately I cannot put that in the final report, Dr Horring,” laughed Grant. “But I agree. The operation was a success. I’ll inform this… what was his name? You know, that robotic scarecrow?”

“Viltis?”

“That’s the one. And we are not following the usual violation procedure with her. The guy wants to move her to a secure place for some reason. As soon as possible, he said.”

“Move her? What about the trial-cunts?”

Grant walked up to twenty-three and caressed her cheek gently. The girl beamed with gratitude. “The trials? I don’t know. We don’t have the budget to maintain them. I think I’ll take one of them home, for my own use. Nine, perhaps. She was the first one to survive the procedure, so she has sentimental value.”

“The others?”

“Whatever. You guys want one each?”

“I’ll take one,” twenty-three’s rapist said. “Dibs on eighteen!”

“Goddamit Bobby,” the other groaned. “Fine, I’ll take eleven then.”

“There you go. It’s decided. The rest, dispose of them properly this time, will you?”

As a result, chapter 34 seems quite short in comparison to the other, and we don't have context for the first image.

Whenever you have time @xxfluffydeathxx could you double check on Erenisch Subscribestar that there is no difference between its chapter 34 and this one?
It would be strange, but then again, so is the duplicate text. It looks like it could be an error from Erenisch. Otherwise, It really feels like we are missing at least one phrase to set the scene at the beginning between the duplicate text and the first image...).

Also, thank you for the clarifications on "the Journey" chapter 23. (And for sharing all this).
Fixed it.
 

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