• Staff Applications are OPEN! [ Staff / Moderator ] More Info HERE Help us make a better forum for everyone!

[Erenisch] Novella.

Guys please, stop asking so much. The notifications from your posts are giving me false hope ^^'...
It always take Fluffydeath some time to post the Novella chapters. It seems they don't interest him much and so far asking here for them has had no effect, so it appears to be pointless.

It's also possible he generally doesn't pledge to the level of Novella tier, and only pledges that high a few months a year. If they don't interest him, that would make a lot of sense.

That aside, I was pretty thrilled to get a cameo from Minerva. I love intelligent subs. (I liked to see Anders back too, but as far as I remember he is your typical asshole, although a bit more competent than most. These guys should really be more appreciative - dare I say caring - , or at least more imaginative and playful when they are having fun.)
 
Last edited:
Guys please, stop asking so much. The notifications from your posts are giving me false hope ^^'...
It always take Fluffydeath some time to post the Novella chapters. It seems they don't interest him much and so far asking here for them has had no effect, so it appears to be pointless.

It's also possible he generally doesn't pledge to the level of Novella tier, and only pledges that high a few months a year. If they don't interest him, that would make a lot of sense.

That aside, I was pretty thrilled to get a cameo from Minerva. I love intelligent subs. (I liked to see Anders back too, but as far as I remember he is your typical asshole, although a bit more competent than most. These guys should really be more appreciative - dare I say caring - , or at least more imaginative and playful when they are having fun.)
Bit surprised but your comment pretty much hits the nail on the coffin. I generally subscribe for a little while and wait to receive chapters in bulk. The novellas I generally stay for are the journey and revolution but they haven't been updated in almost a year. I'm recently subscribed again to the novella tier so I'll try and update them some time today for you guys.
 
Bit surprised but your comment pretty much hits the nail on the coffin. I generally subscribe for a little while and wait to receive chapters in bulk. The novellas I generally stay for are the journey and revolution but they haven't been updated in almost a year. I'm recently subscribed again to the novella tier so I'll try and update them some time today for you guys.
Thank You
 

The Operation - 19​


“I’m surprised to see you like… this… Minerva. I thought you were using a complex statistical model to avoid this exact situation. Rational choices and logical gambits or whatever egghead shit you were doing.”

Finally released from her binds and the Chief’s rough hands, the well-whipped young woman picked her eyeglasses from the desk and put them on with shaky hands. She was exhausted and sore all over, her entire body was covered in red stripes and bruises, and she had no clothes to cover it. At least she had her trusty pair of glasses to hide her teary eyes behind. She stood up and tried to balance on her weak legs. The room was freezing. She was sure the Chief kept the temperature extra low to see her shiver after every fully nude rape.

“I’m still following the plan, Master-Agent Anders,” she started with a trembling voice. She cleared her throat and took a deep breath. “I only modified it to increase my chances of-”

“Ah! Let me see if I remember correctly. Your chances of reaching the age of 30 as a freewoman?”

“Yes Sir,” she nodded respectfully. She hated it when men interrupted her. Especially men who had less than half of her IQ. She was classified as a genius at a very early age. She could have chosen a career path in academy, natural sciences, anything she wanted. But even as a young girl, she knew the statistics well. She knew most paths, if not all, would end in certain doom for a young woman of her beauty. The daughter of two egalitarian professors, she was practically raised in a large private library. Fully aware of what would happen in the state-led education system, her parents chose to home-school her. She would spend her days and nights reading, learning, and of course, slowly building a rational model to keep herself free. She built a giant choice-tree, a detailed model to build pathways to achieve one purpose: Avoid slavery. Remain free.

She knew she had to prepare for her life-after-parents. Her father passed away first. Sudden heart-attack. She suspected foul play initially, but she knew well that the state wouldn’t just covertly assassinate a dissident without a televised grand spectacle. Her mother died several years later. Suicide. Finally run out of their savings, the poor woman couldn’t afford her freedom permit and her daughter’s that year… So she chose to pay for a short-permit for Minerva, and swallow a bunch of pills herself.

An 18-year old Minerva had no time to mourn. She was faced with an important challenge after her mother’s passing. She had to find a job. She had her parents' house, freedom for two short years, and a very big brain. So she revised her old plan and started to follow it to the letter. It required to stand close to “power,” close enough to use it for security, but not too close so it wouldn’t destroy her. Like a roaring campfire in the cold of winter. The ever-strengthening SEFR was the obvious choice. In her most daring move, she applied for a man’s position in their intelligence and analysis department. She had no idea how the recruitment committee would react. Ironically, her fully logical, rational plan was launched by the roll of a dice, a big gamble.

She got lucky. The selection committee approved her application, somehow. Perhaps they were amused by her apparent delusion? Their questions and comments during the interview reeked of extreme misogyny, of course. She didn’t care. She was in. And once she was inside the door, there was nothing to stop her. She was smarter, quicker, and more knowledgeable. She was unbelievably hardworking and efficient too. Unlike her male colleagues, she never wasted time raping office slaves and frolicking with other femployees several times a day. While the men barely worked for a couple of hours, she worked 12-hour shifts. Against all odds, she soon became the top-analyst in the Intelligence department in a few years.

As she progressed, she kept adjusting and adapting her plan to her new situation. It was now a full-fledged computer program, a giant algorithm trained and updated by live stats. She had access to high-security information networks at the BFA, after all. Her "probability of freedom" grew constantly.

But of course, it didn’t matter how smart she were, or how capable her algorithm was. It was a male world, run by dicks, literal and figurative. So there she was, standing naked in front of two lesser minds, brutally beaten and mercilessly humiliated.

“The plan changes and adjusts, Master-Agent,” she continued. “Compromises and concessions have to be made, every now and then. I made an arrangement with Chief Nagel to secure a sizable boost to my chances of survival. It requires me to make myself fully and unconditionally available to his sexual advances at the office. He was kind and considerate enough to abuse my body in short sessions in order to let me maintain an acceptable level of efficiency in my non-sexual tasks and duties. He also keeps me caged at his mansion two days a week where I’m fully used like a sex slave.” She stopped and cleared her throat again, in order not to burst into tears. The arrangement itself was humiliating and painful, and explaining it out loud hurt more and more every single time.

“I think you rested enough, Dumbcunt,” said Nagel, now comfortably resting in his chair. He called her that during her “weekend slavery.” Every Friday after work, Minerva would fully undress and climb into the trunk of the Chief’s car, and he would take her to his mansion up north to rape and torture her for two days straight. He brought her back to the Hive on Monday mornings, and she started another long work week. Of course, she had to visit his office every day at least once, often to suck his cock or perform other humiliating tasks to satisfy the fat fuck.

Before agreeing to this, her success probability was in a disastrous downward tailspin, mainly because of the unforeseen events triggered by the "gas explosion" at the Hive. Every macro or micro trend worked against her. With the winter intensifying, she had to stand closer to the campfire. The price was getting burned a bit. Her algorithm suggested the solution and she followed, as she always did. Her model was never wrong, and it's suggestions couldn't be ignored. Figuratively, it was her real master. This radical move took away some of her freedom, but nearly doubled her probability of success.

“Yes Sir, thank you,” she replied and walked over to the Chief, waited for him to decide on the hole he wanted to fuck, then gently sat on his rock-hard dick. She held her breath and bit her lip to hold a scream inside. The Chief’s dick suited the guy. It was fat and ugly. She squirmed in pain when the huge thing penetrated her fully, and her bottom hit his crotch.

1708739581692.png


“I’m sure you can move and talk at the same time, Dumbcunt,” said Nagel. “You’re very good at multitasking. Go ahead, tell Anders about Project Valkyrie. It is your brainchild, after all.”

“Yes Sir,” she said obediently and started to move her bottom in the Chief’s preferred pace. “Project Valkyrie is a special task force. We selected a small group of agent-slaves from different ranks and trained them to go deep undercover. We used these agents to infiltrate dissident groups, anti-androcratic movements, even terrorist organizations. We even launched our own terrorist cells and attacked our own bureaus in order to gather credibility. Then we helped them join the FLF umbrella and infiltrated them successfully."

“FLF? It is practically impossible. Every single female spy we sent, they managed to turn. They can deactivate the neckbands, even the micro-bombs and trackers we implant deep inside their heads. And once the control chip is deactivated, the promise of freedom becomes too attractive for the girls. They immediately defect to the enemy.”

“Yes, you are correct, Sir,” Minerva moaned. She tried to concentrate, in spite of the sex hormones flooding her system. “We have something more effective than control chips.”

“Oh, don’t tell me. It’s the unfaltering loyalty to androcracy, isn’t it?” mocked Anders.

“Actually, yes, it is,” whimpered Minerva. “Unfaltering loyalty to androcracy, guaranteed by efficient blackmail.”

“Blackmail?”

“Our Valkyries are all siblings,” explained Minerva. “We enlist sisters, many of them twins, train one as an undercover agent and we keep the other in a secure BFA facility. We tell them when the undercover agent shows a sign of disloyalty, the hostage loses a limb. If she defects, the sibling is RX-ed. Much more efficient than a micro-bomb attached to the spine.” She paused for a moment. “Of course, we also attach micro-bombs to their spines.”

She was hit by sudden jolt of guilt, like she always was when she had to talk about her work at the Intelligence Department. She had no other choice of course, and it was always easy to blame the algorithm for making her do immoral, nasty things.

“Wow! How many are there? In FLF, I mean?”

“Unfortunately, your clearance level isn’t high enough to access further information,” whimpered Minerva as she desperately tried to accommodate the Chiefs dick hitting her pussy faster and faster. She knew she had to use a more diplomatic language in order to appease men at all times, but she was beginning to be overwhelmed by the fire between her legs. “Only the Chief and the BFA council members…”

“Fine,” shrugged Anders. “But I’m gonna fuck that disrespectful mouth of yours after the Chief is done with you.”

“Ah!” chuckled Nagel. “Unfortunately, Anders, you don’t have the clearance level to do that either.”


* * *


“You really train fighting male opponents?” asked Lidia as she absent-mindedly played with the Heimdaller tablet. It was the first time she had unrestricted access to the Registry. She had been browsing through the files of all the women she knew. Her comrades at the Hive, distant relatives she remembered, her pre-enslavement friends from the orphanage and high school…

Katalin nodded, and straightened up with slight embarrassment. She realized she had been staring at the Pussianan beauty with starry-eyed admiration. Lidia was still naked for all practical purposes, even though she was wearing the puppygirl outfit the men brought from the nearby town. She was simply gorgeous. The most attractive female Katalin had ever laid eyes on.


1708739621404.png


“That’s… unthinkable here. Female on male violence is…”

“Punished by death, I know.” Katalin smiled. “Funny. You have the numbers, but not the courage to use it. In slavery countries, the ratio is as high as nine-to-one. But that 'one' built a very efficient system to control the 'nine.'”

“Wolves and sheep," shrugged Lidia. "What’s the ratio in the Ottohun Federation?”

“Something like six-to-one, I think.”

“Yet the men outnumber you two-to-one in your little group. Some things never change, eh?”

The beautiful spy laughed. “Well, it’s a Pussiana mission. Sending a bunch of women here would be pointless. We are trying to take a slave out of this hell, not add new exotic ones to their harems.”

Lidia smiled bitterly. She was almost certain that it was exactly what would happen. This brave young woman would end up in the harem of a high-ranked official, possibly a BFA council member, or the minister of defence. Best case scenario, she’d be a fuckable war-trophy, if she somehow managed to evade a high-profile rapexecution.

“Do you guys have… harems… over there? I mean. You said six-to-one. You can’t just…”

“We have polycules,” Katalin smiled. “I was in one. Mine had two men and three women. We lived in a big house together.”

“You fucked each other?”

“Yes.”

“That’s a harem with another name.”

“Well, sort of, I guess. But we are free to leave, whenever we want to.”

Lidia nodded. She liked talking to this girl. She was getting more and more attractive with every word she uttered. She loved her convincing-but-strange northern accent. She liked the way her T’s sound more like D’s every now and then. Her tales from this weird land of freewomen were extremely fascinating too.

“I don’t want to offend you, but,” started Lidia, “you seem to like your ‘husband’ a lot. I can sense an energy between you two. Are you lovers in real life?”

“No!” exclaimed Katalin, much louder than she should have. “No, he has a wife and another bedmate. His own polycule, I guess.” She paused for a moment. “I gave him a blowjob once, though.” She almost smiled mischievously like a high school girl, but managed to stop herself just in time. Still, she felt her cheeks blushing.

“That doesn’t count” shrugged Lidia.

“Doesn’t count? Does too! It’s a big deal. We were in public. I was…” Katalin stopped. Was she trying to impress a Pussianan woman with the one lewd act she performed?

“Really? It’s barely a sexual act here. It’s like a handshake.”

“A handshake?”

“Yes, sometimes literally. In formal situations, men offer their females to each other before they offer their hands.”

“Wow. You have been in such situations?”

“Many times. Whenever my handler had to speak to a higher up, he’d… Oh!… oooooh!… I think…” She paused and tapped the Heimdaller tablet’s security lock screen.

Then she looked into Katalin’s eyes and smiled. “Call your ‘husband.’ I think I found a target for you. A big, fat, ugly target.”
 

The Operation - 20​


Bouncytits jumped out of the Cunthound and opened the door for Viltis. He got out slowly, trying to look in full control of his face. He prided himself on being calm and collected at all times. One of the rare exceptions to the rule was long Cunthound rides he occasionally had to take. He could be the only person who dreaded the sight of the infamous SEFR aerocars more than a scared slave on the run. If it was up to him he would never set foot in these hideous death traps. But this morning he was told to meet some big wigs at the Harlotport headquarters and had no time to take the land route.

He nodded to the redhead agent-slave temporarily assigned to him for the duration of operation and told her to wait for his return at the landing bay. A-S Bouncytits thanked him for the opportunity to serve in a soldierly manner. She was indeed grateful. She had never seen an agent who didn’t casually utilize the A-S he was given every ten minutes. The man irked him a little with his strange mannerisms and she was sure that he was some other kind of horrible sadist, but she appreciated the long silences and stillness.

Viltis walked towards the entrance of the Harlotport facility without losing another second. Now on terra firma, he was immediately back to his stone-faced, perfectly in-control self. Harlotport HQ was the second biggest BFA/SEFR facility after the Hive itself. Mostly built underground, it looked smaller than it really was. Only three administrative levels and the main broadcast studios were above the ground. A number of clandestine departments, including the “Section Eight,” were housed many levels below the big stage where high-profile rapexecutions took place. Because of its shape, it was often called the “Anthill.”

After passing though a few checkpoints that put several layers of security between the unwashed masses and the top-secret shenanigans the SEFR was up to that day, he was escorted to the inconspicuous dark green door that opened to the “Section Eight.” It wasn’t the real name of the counter-intelligence department, of course. They didn’t have an official name. Were they the eighth section that was established under BFA? Unlikely. It was just a name, designed to distract.

Right behind the door a familiar face welcomed him with a smile. He almost smiled back. But of course, he didn’t.

“Agent Rapemeat, how nice to see you again! Safe at home, and they even gave you normal clothes?”

“Oh, this cunt is sorry Agent Viltis,” the beautiful slavegirl replied guiltily, “Rapemeat is being prepped for the debriefing. I’m her sister, Fuckflesh.”

“Ah! Luna, was it?”

“Yes Sir,” she smiled at the mention of her former name.

“I thought I was here for a full debriefing. But you are here, so will this be rape-synching too?”

“Yes Sir,” she smiled again, albeit less enthusiastically. “Director Thikett thought it would be more entertaining for our visitors from the Hive if my sister and I were raped together during the debriefing.”

“Fine by me,” said Viltis. “Two beautiful twins being violated and tortured in perfect unison? Surely, it will be fun to watch.”

The girl nodded with an obvious fake smile this time. Suddenly, she was at the brink of tears.

“That’s okay if you cry,” grinned Viltis, fully aware of the effect of his words. “I participated in the training of your sister. At the end, we forged her into a spy with steely nerves. But you, the untrained half, are just like the scared little slavegirl on her very first day. First days, actually. We didn’t let her fall asleep for three days. Continuous rape and torture, mixed with sleep deprivation and hunger. Magical combination.”

1708739691817.png



Fuckflesh swallowed nervously. She was crying silently now. She always felt guilty for “winning” the coin toss that day. When she said tails and the agent called heads that night, she thought he was playing a cruel joke on them about the hole he was going to rape them in. Turned out that was the case, but also, their fates were sealed at that moment. Her dear sister Lake Rapemeat was taken to another level where they trained undercover agents, she later learned, and Luna Fuckflesh was sent here to serve as an administrative slave till the end of her life. That was about three years ago, right after they completed basic training. It was the last day she had seen sunlight.

She much later learned the real reason of her existence. Her “continued” existence. She was nothing but a hostage. She was regularly utilized by the employees like a slavegirl should be, of course. But like all the other girls who served at the department, she was merely a safety pin that kept her sister tethered to the SEFR. To ensure Lake’s continued loyalty and service to the BFA, to the State. To keep her thoughts on her actual and possible suffering, so she won’t be tempted by the freedom she was offered, away from the fatherly bosom of the Androcracy.

Whenever an agent completed a mission and needed to be debriefed, she was brought in for a so-called “rape-synching.” Out there in the world, young people used the term for casually raping women at the same time, in adjoining rooms, or on the phone, or online. But down here in Section Eight, it had a very different, darker meaning. It was an open-ended session where two siblings are brought together into a dungeon to suffer the same ordeals. An “ordeal” could be anything from a simple blowjob to partial amputation. The only constant was the mirroring of suffering. If one sister had to give rimjobs to a hundred agents, the other would too. If one sister had to lose a nipple, the other wouldn’t be able to keep her own set intact.

They were spectator events too. Higher-ups often attended the sessions for a fun time. Sometimes hostage slaves like Fuckflesh were brought in to watch. No better motivator than a full preview of your future suffering.

This time Viltis smiled. A woman’s genuine emotional distress was nourishment for him. He had a gift of finding weak points to stick a mental knife and turn mercilessly. The bigger the suffering of his victims, the better his mood would be.

“Shall we? I can’t wait to see real pain and pleasure on this beautiful face.”

Fuckflesh gave the man another fake smile and they started to walk towards the debriefing dungeon. As usual, a sizeable crowd of employees were gathered at the main entrance hoping to find a last minute empty seat to fill. As they walked through, a few of them noticed Fuckflesh and attempted to make some cruel jokes at her expense, but Viltis’s strange cold look discouraged them.

Fuckflesh opened the door for Viltis to enter, then stepped in and closed to door, isolating the frustrated crowd behind the sound-proof walls of the huge space. She turned around gracefully and led the agent to the four seats strategically placed at the darkest part of the room. Three seats were already filled by “fat cats,” two of which were familiar to the Agent. Director Thikett, in charge of clandestine operations, and Chief Nagel, in charge of everything. He had no idea who the third man was. Possibly a BFA council member, he guessed.

Then he noticed another silhouette behind the men, that of a woman on her knees. He recognized the shy brunette in glasses from the Agency bulletins of course. Minerva McKluge. The woman who birthed the prized project of Section Eight, among many others. He smiled. Finally, something interesting!

Fuckflesh respectfully bowed her head and stopped ten steps away from the group, then turned around to leave. She knew she wasn’t allowed to be there when the men introduced themselves to each other.

“Stop, come here!”

Fuckflesh turned around and walked back to the spot she stood at before. “Yes master, anything you need? Would you like be served during the meeting? Shall I fetch sense-deprived cocksuckers?”

“We’ll take three, but later,” the Chief said. “Come closer.”

She approached, nervously.

“Which one are you?”

“This cunt is agent-slave Luna Fuckflesh, sexretary, at your service, Master-Chief,” she responded in one breath.

“Ah! So the other one is…”

“Agent-slave Lake Rapemeat,” she replied. “this cunt’s twin sister.”

“Very well. Undress.”

She hesitated for a long moment. She was already surprised to see the top brass in her rape-synching, but now they were asking to personally inspect her? It was a first, surely.

“Yes master,” she said nervously and started to unbutton her shirt with shaky hands. After struggling with the second button from the top, she decided to rip it open instead. She regretted her decision when the buttons scattered like projectiles, but thankfully none of them hit the men. She hoped her fully exposed big tits would provide some distraction to hide the momentary panic on her face. She quickly freed her arms and dropped the dress down to her ankles, gracefully stepped out of it and kicked it away. She removed her high heels and placed them carefully. Then she returned to her spot and stood straight, and gave the four men a full view of her beautiful, slender body.

“You’re synched now,” grinned Nagel and pointed to the stage.”

Luna turned her head to see her twin sister being brought to the stage, also totally naked. A smile appeared on her nervous face, but she quickly collected herself.

“Thank you Master-Chief,” she bowed her head. “May this cunt surrender herself to the debriefing officers now?”

Chief waved his hand dismissively, and she turned on her heels to join her sister on the stage. She stepped on the raised platform and stood in front of her sister, but they didn’t touch. No permission was given yet.

Lake bore the same big smile. She looked a little bit older and maturer than her sister Luna, who was actually born a few minutes before her. Luna still looked delicate and pale, and had the skin texture of a porcelain doll. Destined to live her remaining life underground, she would never be able to see the sun again. Lake was reminded of that fact every morning. Could her sister even tell day from night here?

“You look pale,” she said quietly. “Are you skipping the UV sessions?”

“I do them, don’t worry,” Luna replied. She was about to comment on the plethora of bruises on her sister’s body, but she closed her mouth when the debriefing officer walked up to them.

“Rapemeat and Fuckflesh, back together again,” he grinned. “When was the last time you-”

“7 months and 5 days, Master-Agent York,” Luna replied.

“So, you can tell day from night in this place?” Lake whispered.

“I’m still allowed to look at calendars,” replied her sister. Both smiled.

York ignored the dialogue between the twins as he took notes in his tablet, then raised his head. “That’s a long time. You must have missed each other.”

“Yes, Master-Agent York, Sir.”

“Very well. You may now touch… But first, let me see a passionate kiss. On the lips!”

Despite his obvious intention to humiliate them, neither hesitated. They grabbed each other tightly and locked their lips in a long, passionate kiss. Unbeknownst to this asshole, they used to perform such lewd tricks to shock boys even before their E-day.

York grinned and started the recording system. Then he turned around to address the big wigs sitting a few meters away. The men were hard to see in the dark corner which was now further shrouded by a layer of smoke from Thikett’s cigar.

We are here for the debriefing of agent-slave Lake Rapemeat, returning Valkyrie operative, and periodical performance evaluation of agent-slave Luna Fuckflesh, resident sexretary. They will be rape-synched fully, receiving all the rewards and punishments either of them acquired since their last synching seven months and five days ago. I’m Master-Agent York, to supervise the event. Master-Agents Herrera, Jones, Davies and Govern will assist me in questioning, penetrations and floggings.

He turned around again and nodded to Herrera and Jones, who were busy putting the girls in heavy leather ankle and wrist cuffs, and collars. “Bring them forward. We’ll start with the routine skullfuck. Faceslaps only at this stage.” Herrera grabbed Lake by her braided long hair, and Jones did the same with Luna. They dragged the girls to the center of the stage and pushed them down onto their knees. Neither girl would even think of resisting, but they appeared reluctant because of the way they were brutally manhandled.

The agents pulled heir hair up to stretch their slender necks and bent their heads back, then landed five consecutive hard slaps on their left cheeks. They waited for a couple seconds to give the girls time to thank for the abuse and beg for more, then landed another five. Luna and Lake dutifully thanked again. Without losing any time, agents passed the girls’ hair to their right hands, leaving their left to slap the other side. Ten more hard slaps exploded on their pretty faces, leaving them with teary eyes and bright red cheeks.

While Luna and Lake thanked the agents again, they took out their hard cocks out. They were almost-perfect copies of each other in size and shape, only difference was the skin shade. The girls then begged to be fucked in their face-pussies, in perfect unison. Hair braids changed hands again, and cocks were non-ceremoniously shoved into the girls’ mouths. In a truly inhuman, almost machine-like manner, the agents started to fuck the twins’ throats. Then and only then the synchronisation started to show slight deviations, and neither the men nor the girls were able to remain in full control of the noises they made. A cacophony of gurgles and slurps filled the large room.

1708739727439.png


Viltis was fascinated for the first few minutes. This was his first time watching a rape-synching. He more or less understood the psychological reason behind the so-called “synchronization,” of course. This process was perfected through trial and error by viasmologists long before the Valkyrie project decided to take it to the next level for its own purposes. The original idea was developed as a military drill to increase group cohesion, and it worked well, but not exactly the way they expected.

The effect on the male soldiers was negligible. Merely above a simple march around the base. On the other hand, it increased group cohesion among the fuckmeat the army provided for its soldiers. The slavegirls who suffered the same ordeals became closer, loyal and self-sacrificing. Girls who never spoke to each other turned into sisters after a few sessions.

It was the common enemy: The men and their brutality. As expected, the Army dropped the practice immediately. It was Minerva’s ingenuity, more selfish than evil, what turned a potentially dangerous practice into a useful tool for the purposes of the tyranny of men. To make the process more fool proof, she suggested to use sisters, especially twins, whenever possible. Project was a dazzling success. None of the active Valkyries ever defected to the enemy, or failed to complete their undercover missions even at the farthest corners of the world.

After a while, the brutal double facerape on the stage became repetitive for Viltis. The other three seemed to be enjoying the spectacle fully, probably because three deaf-mute-blind slavegirls were now sucking their cocks dutifully. Viltis made a face and looked at Minerva with the corner of his eye. She was silently crying with her head bowed down. The sight gave Viltis a mental boner, and an actual boner too. The woman was not a loyal believer of Androcracy, or particularly proud of whatever was happening on the stage at the moment. Viltis wondered what motivated her. The mystery made his boner even harder.

“Spit-roast time!” said Thikett with excitement, and sat straighter to see the stage better. The girl between his legs immediately adjusted her position and angle for his comfort. Viltis reluctantly turned his attention back to the synching on the stage. Still with cocks in their mouths, Rapemeat and Fuckflesh were dragged to and bent over two simple wooden frames, giving access to the remaining two agents. Davies and Govern took their places behind the girls and pentrated them in their pussies without hesitation. More muffled screams and moans were added to the sounds that echoed around the room.

“You’re not having much fun, Viltis,” said Thikett. “Let go a little, eh?”

“With all due respect, Sir,” started the Agent, “the show is… entertaining, of course. But I was hoping to speak to agent Rapemeat in a calmer setting. I thought you brought me here because I knew her well. I’ve trained her, even utilized her a few times. I might help you access extra information if you let me debrief her alone.”

“You utiilized an agent?” asked Thikett in genuine surprise. “That’s the most surprising information I learned today.”

“I, of course have done and will always do whatever the task requires,” Viltis replied coldly.

“And that’s why Thikett brought your name to my attention,” interrupted Chief Nagel. “You’re making the wrong assumption, Agent Viltis. You are not here because you have trained agent-slave Rapemeat. It’s a plus, of course. But you are here because of a recent case you handled all very tactfully and successfully. A case involving a high-profile alumni of this very organization.”

It took Viltis a second to realize what the chief was talking about. The disappearance of Stephanie Prancer. It was a simple kidnapping on the surface, but actually, it was the greatest security threat ever posed to the BFA and the SEFR. A rogue Section Eighter, with the ability and know-how to access, alter, and even destroy the Registry and all the vital systems connected to it. Of course, Viltis would never let them know that he simply mopped up after a horny teenager and a retired slavecop. That unlikely duo did most of the dirty work, hunted the operative down and even killed him, and Viltis simply arranged the pieces around in the best way possible after everything went down. That was an achievement in itself, of course.

He nodded to show he understood. Chief continued. “This show, we call it a debriefing, but it is what it is: A show. We already debriefed Rapemeat, aka Persephone. Believe me, it is a fascinating story with many twists.” He took out a data stick and handed it to Viltis. “Video recording of the interrogation, with some highly classified parts edited out. Watch on an airgap computer, of course.”

He nodded.

“I’ll give you the juicier parts. The hit at the FTZ, we confirmed that it was the Ottohuns. They are now in Pussiana, somewhere between here and the capital. Three operatives, two male and one female, posing as a Northern Pussianan couple and friend. All highly trained, by the looks of it. Rapemeat describes them in full detail in the video. She says they arrived on a sub. We have never detected them, so that poses a big problem for the fucking Navy too.” He turned to the man sitting next to him. “That’s why those incompetent bastards sent Vincent here to “observe” the debriefing. The man didn’t seem to mind the verbal abuse. Obviously this was his first time at a synching too, and he was enjoying the spit-roasting of the twins too much.

“Am I wrong to assume you left the real big news for the last, Chief?” asked Viltis. So far, the information he heard wasn’t particularly interesting.

Nagel grinned. “They have a slavecop with them.”

“A slavecop? They captured one?”

“No. A slavecop. The slavecop. The star of the SEFR who inspired the TV show ‘The Blue.’ The youngest slavecop to ever reach level eight.”

“I’m sure you are mistaken,” said Viltis. “Agent-Slave Lidia Cumgulper was regrettably among the casualties of the 'gas explosion.' I personally attended the ceremony where she was posthumously inducted to the Hall of the Heroines of the Revolution.”

“Unfortunately,” said Nagel with a sad face, “we’ll have to take her plaque down from that wall now. Lidia Cumgulper is a traitor. She is the enemy of the state, Viltis, and it’s your job to bring her to me. Alive if possible.”
 

The Operation - 21​


The men arrived in a beige rental car. They had new clothing items on too. Ugly stuff with some local flavor.

“You may come out girls,” Ktinodis yelled. “Your ride is here.”

Katalin and Lidia appeared from behind the rocks and descended quickly, with impressive agility.

“Wow!” said the stocky muscle-man as he opened the trunk of the car. “We got ourselves a pair of mountain goats, Alex.” He moved aside and gestured towards the spacious padded chamber with straps and chains . “For our delightful companion in puppy gear,” he smiled. “The gentleman at the rental agency assured us this ‘female compartment’ would comfortably hold three small-size fucktoys.” He turned to Katalin, who got a slight frown. “Don’t give me that look. His words. I’d never use such a term. I prefer ‘petite.’”

Lidia smiled and climbed into the trunk without saying anything. Martin was funny. She liked his jokes. And she wanted him to fuck her again too. She just wasn’t sure if he would, after learning her true identity.

The commander brought the remaining equipment from their camp and dropped them in the trunk, in the smaller storage space next to the female compartment. “I’m sure you understand, Miss Gulfer,” he started with usual emotionless tone, “we’ll restrain you properly during car rides. You’ll wear the hood to avoid cameras. And a gag too, because we don’t completely trust you yet.”

“I understand,” said Lidia. “I appreciate the explanation.” She put her wrists and ankles together to be tied and smiled to Ktinodis. “You’ll be missing out, of course. As a slavecop, I specialize in car blowjobs, first and foremost.”

“I’m glad you are now able to make jokes,” smiled the man. “A long way from the panicked girl who woke up in her worst nightmare this morning.”

Lidia smiled again. He was right. She felt different. Invigorated. She was still nervous about the road ahead, but this unusual trio was giving her courage. They were confident, capable professionals. Perhaps they had a chance to accomplish their task and get out unscathed? Perhaps they could take her with them too. To freedom… to that magical land of freewomen where she wouldn’t have to serve every men.

“When we’re on foot, you’ll be leashed and walked as a pet, as you suggested. If circumstances require, you’ll be subject to rough treatment, sexual abuse and even beatings. We will do anything and everything to avoid suspicion. Do you understand that?”

“Yes Sir,” replied the ex-slavecop and raised her wrists. “Would you please tie me up now?”

“I’ll handle that,” grinned Ktinodis and fished out a bunch of zip-ties from his duffel-bag. He quickly restrained the girl’s limbs and gently laid down her beautiful body in fetal position. His touch gave Lidia a series of shivers and a hot fantasy to warm her crotch for the ride ahead.

“That doesn’t look very comfortable,” said Katalin. “Are you sure it would take three? Because-”

“Can’t tell, but it will definitely take two,” said Tamer and pointed at the empty space next to the fully bound Pussianan beauty.

“You can’t be serious!”

Tamer pursed his lips. He was always serious.

Katalin sighed and rolled her eyes. “Fine. Should I undress too?”

“If you like,” said Tamer. “It’s not absolutely necessary. But I’ll tell you the same thing I told her. If circumstances require, you’ll be subject to rough treatment, sexual abuse and even beatings. That’s basically why you’re here, dear.”

“Yes… dear,” replied Katalin. “Of course I know that.” She raised her wrists for him to zip-tie, and climbed into the “female compartment.” In a few moments she was lying in fetal position, her bound body interlocked with Lidia’s.

“What do you know,” snickered Ktinodis. “Still has space for one more woman. The guy wasn’t bullshitting us, eh?”

Tamer nodded. “Don’t worry ladies. It will be a short ride. Our next stop is a safehouse located in a small town, north of Maidenfair. It was chosen for its proximity to the last known location of our target. That no longer is pertinent, but luckily it’s also close enough to the new target Miss Gulfer kindly suggested. We’ll be there in two hours.”

“It’s in Bitcham?”

Tamer looked mildly impressed. “Yes. You guessed it from what I said?”

“Small town north of Maidenfair, close to Nagel’s residence. Two hours from here. Not too difficult to figure out. We girls handle navigation in SEFR Cunthounds, you know… When we aren’t sucking our handlers’ cocks, of course.”

“Very good,” Tamer almost smiled. “So, anything mention-worthy about the place?”

“They make good cheese.”

“Good for them, but not exactly what I wanted to know.”

“There is a wooded area to the east of town. It could be used as an alternative hide-out. Runners often try to hide there. They cannot, of course. The trackers in the neckbands lead us right to them. Recent models even paralyze the slaves if they leave a predetermined area and automatically alert the SEFR.”

“Is there a permanent SEFR presence? A Cunthound station?”

“Just the local BFA Registration Bureau. Small town office with a dozen fat guys and about 20 slavegirls, maybe. SEFR doesn’t have to be present everywhere. They can control everything from only seven headquarters in major cities.”

“That you know of,” said Tamer. “I have to burst your bubble, Miss Gulfer, but we know that there are at least 22 SEFR major operational centers in Pussiana.”

“22? Really?”

“Well, a perpetually-caged slavegirl says seven, and our high-tech satellite intelligence network says 22. The true number must be somewhere in between,” snickered Katalin.

Lidia ignored the jab. “Doesn’t matter. Nagel will be at the Hive or at his main residence close to the Hive. Of course, the Hive would be too risky, especially after the attack. His house will be well-protected too. You can get him while he is travelling in between. It would be relatively easy to do. He’s a creature of habit. A vile, nasty, sadistic creature of awful habits.”

Tamer nodded. “We’ll discuss all possible strategies when we reach the safehouse, Miss Gulfer. Anything else before we leave?”

“Yes,” said Lidia. “Just one thing. If… When you get that fucking bastard, would you please let me do some damage? I’m practically dead anyway. I want to try this ‘female-on-male violence’ thing at least once before my inevitable rapexecution.”


* * *


Viltis finished watching Rapemeat’s debriefing video on his tablet and removed his headphones. Luna and Lake’s screams of pain immediately hit his ears. The twins were now hanged by their necks, precariously balanced on their tiptoes. They were surrounded by the four agents, each wielding a nasty-looking bullwhip. Their slender bodies were covered in dark red stripes, front and back. The rhythmic slashing sound of leather slicing flesh and the girls’ blood-curdling screams echoed around the hall like the ticking of an infernal clock.

He enjoyed female suffering as much as the next Pussianan male citizen, of course. But he preferred to have an active role in abuse. This prolonged torture session was no longer fun for him. That was why he chose to start watching Lake’s debriefing video while the twins were forced to take turns assraping each other with extra-large strap-ons.

His three colleagues didn’t look bored at all, even though they were no longer fully engaged with the show on the stage. They were chatting on various topics while enjoying the company of the ‘sensory-deprived’ slavegirls they were given.

“Do you know what’s the most interesting thing in this place?”

He turned to see Chief Nagel looking at him with his girl slowly riding his big fat cock.

“The obvious and boring answer would be the ‘synching,’ so I won’t pick that one, Sir,” Viltis replied.

“It’s these girls they give you,” Nagel grinned. “Look at her. She cannot see, hear, or speak. She can feel nothing but the abuse she receives. Beatings and sexual violation. Nothing else. Doesn’t that make your cock hard like a diamond, Viltis?

It did. Viltis never thought about the sensory-deprived slavegirls used by the Section Eight before, but yes, the idea of taking everything from a female intrigued him.

“Imagine, Viltis,” the other continued. “We don’t even know who these girls were. We will never know. Their identities were erased before they were brought down here. Some fucking asshole picked these girls from among a larger group for some reason and sentenced them to be 'reduced.' Other fucking assholes did some nasty butchering to remove their sight, hearing, and ability to speak. They woke up the next they in a pitch black, silent nightmare, unable to scream for help. Can you imagine the terror?”

Viltis nodded. He was hard.

“And then, beatings and rapes begin. They don’t know who is doing this to them. They don’t know where they are. They don’t know why. They don’t know what will happen to them eventually. Who knows what such unimaginable cruelty would do to their little brains? What is this one thinking right now? Her world is nothing but cocks in the void, penetrating her without warning, with no regularity or reason. How can she make sense of it? Does she have theories? Maybe she gave up and checked out long ago. Is she completely detached from reality? Perhaps she’s playing a game in her mind while I’m raping her. She must have some kind of coping mechanism to remain sane, don’t you think?”

“A very interesting thought, Chief,” replied Viltis. Finally, he was intrigued.

Nagel grinned again. His fat face somehow looked like a bloodthirsty hyena’s. “In a way, we are like her, Viltis. We’re in complete darkness, being fucked in the ass. But unlike this little cunt, we won’t lie down and take it, right? We will find these fucking Ottohuns and fuck them back.”

Viltis chose to nod instead of trying to come up with a verbal response. It was obvious that Nagel was proud of his forced little segue.

“Now, tell me Viltis. Don’t you want one of these poor fucktoys on your cock now? Shall I have one brought for you?”

“You made them sound more attractive than I initially thought, Chief,” replied the agent. “But I must respectfully decline.”

“I told you” chuckled Thikett. “You cannot entice Viltis. He is more machine than man. And you owe me a hundred bucks.”

A bet at his expense? Viltis frowned. It wasn’t anger he felt, but pity. He was frustrated by such lesser minds, and the world was full of them. Especially in high power positions.

“Not so fast, Dickhead,” waved Nagel. Viltis almost chuckled when the chief used everybody’s pejorative nickname for Thikett. Name calling? Of course, lesser minds! “I noticed you keep looking at Minerva. I assume you’re a fan?”

Viltis looked genuinely surprised this time. He felt like a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Yes Sir,” he responded. “I have been following Ms McKluge’s career for a while now. Yes, I’d call myself a fan.”

“Ah! Let me introduce you, then,” Chief exclaimed victoriously and turned to the young woman silently waiting a few meters away. “Minerva! Come here!”

As she left the safety of the shadow and approached the group of men, her beautiful face was dramatically illuminated. Her intelligent eyes looked sad, and a bit scared too. “Yes, Chief,” she said respectfully. It was love at first sight for Viltis.

“Minerva, meet Agent Viltis. He’s a fan of yours.”

“How do you do, Agent Viltis?” greeted the woman, not knowing how to respond to the “fan” part.

“I’m sure Viltis would like to have a private chat with you, right?” Nagel turned to the agent. Viltis nodded. “Yes, I’d like to pick your brain on a few subjects.”

“Yes, you do that,” interrupted Nagel, “and give her an orgasm.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’ll take Minerva to an empty office, and ‘pick her brain,’ as you said. Pick it hard and long. Give her at least one orgasm. Would you respectfully decline this offer too?”

Viltis froze for a few seconds, thinking. He wanted to have a “chat” with Minerva McKluge, of course. He would even entertain the idea of utilizing her sexually. The only thing that pissed him off was the fact that he was reduced to a pawn in a silly game between Nagel and Thikett.

“Of course, I’d be happy to,” he said eventually and smiled to the shivering woman. “Shall we?”

He turned around and walked out of the hall. Minerva quietly followed. He found an unused room with nothing but two chairs and a desk, held the door for the woman to enter and locked it. Then sat down without saying a word.

Minerva looked around for a few seconds absentmindedly, then walked to the center of the room. She timidly started to unbutton her shirt. Viltis leaned back and enjoyed the gradual revelation of the beautiful woman’s full round boobs for a while.

“I will not utilize you,” he suddenly said, while she was struggling with the last button.

Minerva stopped, surprise on her face. “I don’t understand, Agent.”

“I won’t rape you,” Viltis repeated. “I don’t utilize women at work unless I absolutely have to.”

An awkward silence. Minerva looked down to her bared chest and looked at Viltis again. “So, should I-”

“No, take them all off. I want to see you naked.”

1708739788058.png



Minerva sighed. She took her shirt off and put it on the back of the chair next to her. Then she hesitated for a moment, unable to decide if she should let the man have a good look at her exceptionally beautiful chest before proceeding. After waiting for a few seconds, she slowly unzipped her skirt and stepped out of it. She laid the skirt on top of her shirt. A stickler for the rules and regulations, she of course didn’t have any panties on. A woman after Viltis' own heart. Another moment of hesitation followed. Viltis figured that she was trying to decide if she should remove her heels or not.

“Keep the shoes on,” said Viltis. “I don’t consider myself a big fan of bare feet.”

Minerva nodded. She didn’t know what to do. In her experience, stripping was always followed by violation, but viltis was clear about his intention not to fuck her. The uncertainly made her even more nervous.

“Please,” Viltis gestured towards the desk. “Lie down and relax.”

She looked at him for a moment, puzzled, then walked to the desk and climbed on top of it. She lay down on her back, trying in vain to unclench.

Viltis stood up and walked towards her. “Open your legs and lift them in the air.”

She did as she was told. He was one of those guys women were unable to disobey. His voice, his tone, his cadence commanded respect.

“Wider.”

She pulled her long shapely legs towards herself and opened them wider. Her womanhood was now in full view of the man who she just met. She didn’t know who he really was. Not that it mattered, of course. She was offered to this man by Nagel as a treat. He was being rewarded or bribed for something, she figured. Nagel shared her from time to time, but only with important people he wanted to impress or elicit favors from.

Somehow, this one felt different.

“You may touch yourself. Around the clit, not in the hole. Start with a slow tempo.

“Excuse me?”

“I promised not to rape you,” said Viltis, “but I also promised Nagel to give you an orgasm. I’m a man of my word, Ms McKluge. Now, do as you’re told. Clit, no hole, slow tempo.”

“Okay… Yes, I…”

“Yes Sir, Agent Viltis, Sir.”

“Oh… Yes Sir, Agent Viltis, Sir.”

As Minerva reached for her clit and started to rub it, Viltis began walking around the desk slowly, admiring the young woman’s beautiful naked body from different angles.

“We’ll play a little game, Ms McKluge,” he said with a soft voice. “You’ll answer my questions truthfully. If I believe you do, I’ll let you go faster. If you lie to me, I’ll make you stop. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir, agent Viltis, Sir.”

“Good. First question. Your parents. They were subversives, weren’t they?”

Minerva hesitated for a few seconds then replied with a trembling voice. “Yes sir, Agent Viltis, Sir.”

Viltis stopped right behind Minerva and put his right palm on her forehead. “You may rub faster.”

Minerva picked up the pace. Her clit was burning with desire already.

“But you’re not a subversive. Are you a true believer of androcracy?”

“Yes Sir, Agent Viltis Sir,” Minerva replied breathlessly. She was getting closer and closer.

“Stop!” he yelled and slapped the woman hard. She immediately pulled her hand back from her clit.

“I’ll ask again, Ms McKluge. Are you a true believer of androcracy? Do you believe, without reservation, I have a natural right to rule you?”

“No… sir. Agent Viltis, Sir,” she replied with a barely audible voice, and braced for another slap. It was a moment of weakness she didn’t see coming. Telling the naked truth to a BFA agent? Complete disregard and violation of everything she had painstakingly built? She should have been terrified. Instead, she felt relief.

Viltis smiled and started to walk around the desk again. “Put your finger back on that clit. Slow tempo.”

She obeyed.

“Did you know that Agent-Slave Gumgulper was a traitor?”

“She wasn’t a traitor, agent Viltis, Sir,” replied the woman. “She just embraced freedom when she was given a taste of it.” She paused for a long moment. “I am the traitor.”

Viltis stopped and looked at Minerva’s face. Another moment of relief? “You may go faster,” he said. “You’re the traitor, because…”

“Did you see that show back there?” Minerva said, almost out of breath. “Did you listen to the screams of those poor sisters? Only two of thirty-four. I did that. It’s all my fau-…” she stopped. Tears finally appeared at the corners of her eyes.

“Faster!” yelled Viltis. “Yes. You are a traitor to your own kind. They say traitors have a special place in hell, don’t they? Do you believe in hell, Ms McKluge?

“I’m already there!” moaned Minerva. She was about to cum. Her body felt hot, like she was engulfed in flames… Like she was lying on cinders. The only thing she needed was the permission. “I’m already in Hell! This is… this is…”

“As fast as you need, Minerva,” said Viltis, “you may cum!”

She closed her eyes and started to rub like crazy. It didn’t take much effort to reach the peak. A powerful orgasm hit her between her legs like a runaway truck. Her entire body shook from side to side with the impact. A few more waves hit her, giving her shudders and shivers. After an eternity, she stopped moving and relaxed on her back. Her arms fell to the sides.

Only when she finally tried to open her eyes, she realized something was off. Her face was covered with a warm, sticky substance.

“I sincerely apologize,” said Viltis, almost guiltily. “I took the liberty of ejaculating on your beautiful visage. Don’t know what came over me.”He smiled and put his dick back in his pants.

“You may put your clothes back on now. I’ll ask the Chief to borrow you for my task force to hunt down these spies. I’m sure he’ll be able to part with your fuckable body for a few weeks.”

1708739821008.png


 

The Operation - 22​


“Is she here as an analyst, or just for anal?”

Viltis turned to Anders and raised an eyebrow. “Ms McKluge is an important part of this team, Agent Anders. And unlike you, she is indispensable.”

Anders snickered and waved dismissively. “Just kidding. Minerva and I are old friends. Aren’t we, Minerva?”

She faked a smile with difficulty. “Yes Sir. I had the privilege to work with Agent Anders before.”

“She means I fucked her mouth and came all over her face.” Anders grinned. “Now Chief tells me I no longer have the clearance to do that again. What a shame!”

Viltis picked up the file on his desk. To him Anders was another meathead in a uniform. He despised the type. “Yes, Agent Anders. You indeed lack the clearance. And for a good reason. I bet even the sight of your ugly dick would lower a person’s IQ by several points.”

Anders squinted. The hatred was mutual. Uniformed officers and suits never got along, but this Viltis was something else. He was arrogance and contempt personified. He would never have subjected himself to this kind of abuse, but he really wanted to be part of the team tasked to hunt Cumgulper. The series of shocking news he was given about his former A-S had given him enough motivation to endure the venom of a dozen snakes like Viltis.

Viltis continued without acknowledging the glowing resentment in the other’s eyes. “I asked you to join the task force because of your familiarity with A-S Cumgulper. You were her handler for years. What can you tell me about her personality, habits, likes, dislikes?”

Anders pursed his lips. “Personality? She was a good fuck and a decent cocksucker.”

Viltis raised a frustrated brow and looked at Anders for a long moment. “At least tell me what she’s capable of. What does she know about the BFA, SEFR, our capabilities, bases of operations? What is the extent of her knowledge on our high-level procedures and strategy? Just give me something, Anders. Was it a mistake to include you in this team? Are you as useless as you look?”

Anders exhaled and leaned back with a frown. “She was just a hound,” he said dismissively. “She knows nothing. I picked her up from her cell every morning, fucked her stupid face a few times during routine patrol, and brought her back to the Hive at the end of my shift. She occasionally chased down a scared girl. I occasionally took her home to overrape. That’s about it.”

“You may be underselling our girl a little bit,” said Viltis. “With such a boring schedule it’s a miracle that she reached level eight. Didn’t they make a TV show based on her exploits? The Blue. Adventures of Agent-Slave Jizzguzzler.”

“Inspired by,” corrected Anders under his breath. “Don’t get me started about that ugly moron who plays m-… I mean Jizzguzzler’s handler.”

Viltis grinned. “Yes that guy is an ugly moron for sure. The show is tawdry exploitation too.” He turned to Minerva. “What about you, Ms McKluge? What’s your impression?”

“I haven’t seen the show, Sir,” Minerva replied. “I don’t own a TV.”

Viltis laughed out loudly this time. “Not the show. Of A-S Cumgulper. I understand you didn’t work together, but you have met her on several occasions.”

“Yes Sir,” she said. “I met her on three occasions to be exact. She was also one of the outstanding operatives we shortlisted for future Section Eight missions. I have studied her file and mission logs.”

Viltis turned the rest of body towards Minerva, with a wider smile. “How wonderful! Perhaps you could provide us with more actionable information about our sexy rogue on the run?”

“Yes Sir. Lidia Gulfer was an orphan. Her father died in a car crash when she was 4. Her mother was sentenced to life-long state-brothel duty when she was 6. Non-political, petty crime. She passed away a year later during a particularly rough gangrape marathon. Young Lidia was raised in a state orphanage near Chikston, involuntarily recruited by Northern Office in senior year of high school, completed cadet training top of her class in all three categories. She’s a good shot and formidable with the kokstick. Her finishing report suggests that she had shown greater skill in organizing her sisters into effective hunting groups. Assigned to the Hive as a top performer, picked up by Agent Anders, captured the Tigress and three other FLF terrorists in her first major mission at the FTZ…”

“Actually,I captured the Tigress,” interrupted Anders, but he shut up and leaned back again when Viltis gave him a look.

“I read her file too, Ms McKluge,” said Viltis, taking advantage of the awkward pause. “A-S Cumgulper’s track record is impressive, to say the least. What I really want is to understand her. More specifically, I want to understand why did she return after finding freedom? She was out, presumed dead. She could have stayed far away and live a long life in peace, beyond our reach. Why is she assisting these foreign spies now? Why are these spies risking their operation by associating with someone high-profile like her? Why would they carelessly reveal themselves by killing SEFR operatives just to rescue her?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t have the necessary information to speculate on these questions, Sir,” said Minerva. “However, I can give you my professional impression of her, as you asked earlier. She was a confident and smart girl. Able to lead and inspire her sisters, younger and older. A free-thinker, someone capable of questioning authority, taking initiative…”

“Free-thinker? Questioning authority? Bullshit. She was nothing like that,” interrupted Anders once again. “Not under my watch.”

“But you confirm that assessment in your mission reports, Agent Anders,” responded Minerva, trying her best to sound as non-confrontational as possible. “You reprimanded her multiple times for speaking without permission, giving her unwanted opinion, and acting proactively without clear orders. In a weekly evaluation report, you recommended extra 50 lashes for ‘not prioritizing state’s interest and citizens’ property rights over preservation of females of negligible market value,’ after she successfully retrieved 7 runners single-handedly.”

“I stand by that,” groaned the Agent. “She should have ignored all those B and C-grades and chased down the only A in the group. She is still unaccounted for. Thousands of bucks worth of prime pussy, roaming the wild, unfucked.”

Viltis opened his mouth to comment, but a loud beeping preempted him. He pressed the glowing red button on the video-phone on his desk. “Yes, Gloria?”

“Chief Nagel called, Master-Agent Viltis,” the girl said. “He wanted to know if Ms McKluge will be released soon?”

Viltis Looked at Minerva, whose beautiful eyes widened with alarm. “No, I need her here. Inform the chief that Ms McKluge will be occupied the entire day. The better part of the week, perhaps.”

“Yes Sir.”

Viltis pressed the button again to sever the connection and turned to Minerva. “Am I right to assume that the Chief utilizes you regularly, Ms McKluge?”

“Yes Sir,” the young woman replied, and lowered her eyes in shame.

“Are you on enslavement track?”

“No, Sir. It’s just-”

“She agrees to serve him like a slave, so she won’t become a slave,” interrupted Anders. “So intelligent, yet so stupid.” He laughed out loud.

Viltis turned back to Minerva, slightly puzzled. Unable to resist his commanding gaze, she was compelled to explain her convoluted reasons, complete with statistical models and complex computer algorithm quickly, almost in a single breath. Unlike previous recitations, telling all that to Viltis excited her. She felt both ashamed and proud at the same time.

“You are exceptional,” said Viltis, once she was done. “I would like to see this algorithm at work.”

“Oh, get a room, you two.”

Anders’ unpleasant derisive voice woken up Viltis from his light trance. He realized that he was standing too close to the woman, almost like he was about to kiss her. “Good idea,” he said without taking his eyes off of Minerva’s. “Leave us. I’ll call you when I have tasks more suitable for your abilities.”

It took the officer a few seconds to understand if Viltis was serious or not. Then he groaned and left without saying another word.

“Master-Agent Anders is a capable cop with a good track record, Sir,” said Minerva once the man’s angry footsteps disappeared in the distance. She was excited, her breathing getting faster and faster. She was feeling Viltis' warm breath on her temple.

“He’s almost completely useless,” replied the man. “His track record is Cumgulper’s track record. He just got very lucky with his A-S selection.” He paused for a few seconds to examine the beautiful visage in front of him. “I think I got lucky with my selection too.” He took another step backwards, scanned the trembling woman from head to toe, and commanded with a soft voice.

“Get down on your knees, Ms McKluge. Pull up your skirt and and put your fingers on your clit. No hole, slow tempo.”

Minerva hesitated for only a second. Then she knelt before the man, grabbed the sides of her skirt, pulled it up to her waist, and started to rub her swollen clit slowly. She bit her lower lip and lowered her eyes shyly.

“No. Look at me.”

She obeyed, reluctantly. Viltis smiled without moving any facial muscles. “I want to hurt you so badly,” said the man. “But you’re giving me no reason to. You’re perfect. Do you know how frustrating that is, Ms McKluge?”

Minerva shook her head. She was feeling frustrated too. Her fingers gently explored the small area around her clit, dying to venture inside her wet hole, but unable to leave the designated area. Would this cruel man ever shut up and let her go faster?

“I have this… this paradox… dilemma, I should say. Whenever I see something perfect… like you… I feel this unbearable urge to destroy it. Tear it into unrecognizable pieces. But there must be a justifiable reason for that. There are rules, you see. And when the perfect thing deserves such cruelty, somehow, it no longer is perfect. Do you see my dilemma now?

Minerva nodded. Her respiration was erratic. She was squeezing and pinching her clit with her fingers. She wanted to go faster, but she didn’t have permission. She wasn’t an animal. There were rules.

Viltis leaned slightly closer and looked into her eyes intensely, as if he was trying to read her mind. Minerva was half-sure that he had the ability to do so. He was nothing like the rest of them. As cruel, perhaps… No, much much much crueler. But his cruelty was… intriguing. Flavorful and enchanting, even.

“Faster,” he commanded, at last. Minerva exhaled with relief and picked up the pace.

“I have my own rules to follow. A code of ethics, highly personal, I must admit, not shared by anyone I know. I’m monogamous, if such a thing is possible in this day and age. I rarely, if ever, utilize the women under my power, but I hurt them regularly. I have no qualms about inflicting pain when they fail to meet some ambiguous standard I set for them. That standard is very low for normal women. So is the intensity of punishment. But for you…” He leaned even closer. “The bar is high and the punishment of failure will be similarly exceptional.” He paused for a second. “Faster!”

She almost let out a shriek with gratitude. Her fingers got faster, so did her heavy breathing.

1708739969870.png



“So, when I reluctantly let you have some pleasure, think about the day you’ll inevitably fuck up. Fail to impress, give the wrong answer… I’m a fair and reasonable man until you fail. When you fail, your punishment will be exceptional as you are. It won’t be fair, or reasonable. It won’t be proportional, or just. I won’t show mercy. I’ll tear you into unrecognizable pieces, Minerva. Do you understand?”

Minerva nodded, frantically.

“You’ll climax on three!” ordered Viltis.

She held her breath and quickened her attacks on and around her clit. She never wanted to be dicked down more than this very moment.

“One! you may now insert your fingers in your primary.”

She squealed like a little piggy and shoved three of her fingers in her pussy. She started to fingerfuck herself like a whore in heat.

“Two! Faster!” ordered the man.

She had never relinquished total control in her life, even when she was getting raped or brutalized. She had been taken roughly many times, allowed some pleasure and given orgasms occasionally, and beaten unconscious more than once. But she had never given up completely. This time, however, she felt safe enough to let go. Her eyes closed in total surrender as she waited for his command at the threshold.

“Three!”

She immediately started to shudder with sudden relief. Waves of mind warping pleasure ripped through her body. She lost control of all her muscles as if she magically turned into a bag of jelly. She collapsed to her side and grabbed the back of a chair in order not to fall face down.

While she was down there with her face hidden from Viltis’s gaze, she instinctively licked her lips. She was almost disappointed that he didn’t ejaculate on her face this time.

Viltis hovered over the panting young woman for a moment, admiring her glowing vulnerability. Then he took a few steps back and sat down. “Take a moment, Ms McKluge, and have a seat. We still have some files to go over.” He smiled, almost like a human. “I wasn’t exaggerating earlier. I’ll keep you the entire day. The entire week, perhaps. We will work hard, and we get to know each other during breaks. I will learn about you and your algorithm. And you’ll learn to edge better and longer.”

“Repetitio est mater studiorum?”

“Correct.” smiled the man. “Repetition is the mother of learning. You’ll work, you’ll obey. You’ll climax. And repeat.”

“Repetition is the mother of boredom,” said Minerva, breaking another one of her own rules. She shouldn’t have corrected a man, never ever, no matter how wrong he was. This strange man, he somehow penetrated her defenses at will since the moment they have met, and repeatedly revealed her to herself.

Viltis wasn’t angry. At least, he didn’t appear to be. He didn’t slap her, or abuse her verbally like a normal man would. Instead he looked into her still-hazy eyes for a moment. “You have a point, Ms McKluge,” he said. “We will change it up, eventually. But for now, we are both still learning.”



* * *


“Do you know why you are here, young lady? Did they tell you who I am?”

“No Sir,” replied Ayla. As usual, she was completely naked and on her knees. This time her wrists and ankles were not tied and her butthole wasn’t plugged like she was used to. She felt a strong urge to remind the men who dragged her here about her lack of restraints, but she was too scared to say anything. Instead, she respectfully kept her wrists and ankles together. She didn’t want to do anything improper and anger this strange man.

“I’m Doctor Jeremy Grant,” said the man with a smile. “I’m your surgeon, young lady. My team and I will perform an operation on your little brain tomorrow. We’ll make you better.”

Ayla blinked nervously. She was feeling terror, but somehow she wasn’t able to express it fully. Her brain was screaming at the rest of her body to get up and run for the exit, but her hands and legs were tied. No, actually, they weren’t, but she couldn’t move them nevertheless.

“Actually, we met before.” the man continued in a gentle, fatherly voice. “You were unconscious, in very bad shape. Right after the Slave Fair, wasn’t it? They gangraped you to near-death, those fucking animals.”

Terrible memories of her first mass violation rushed to Ayla’s confused and terrified mind. She could still remember how it felt. She felt it deep in her holes.

“Anyway, we brought you back, and went beyond that. We put that little thing in your brain a while ago. The thing that made you better.”

“Made me better,” she repeated, ambiguously. Was she asking or confirming? Grant ignored her altogether and continued to talk.

“And tomorrow, we’ll make you even better. I’ll replace it with this.” He showed her a sealed transparent container with a tiny object in it. “This will help your mind synchronize better with the rest of your body.” He gently tapped on her head, and stroke her long dark hair.

“I don’t understand, Sir,” she said, shivering nervously at his touch.

“You don’t need to, sweetheart,” Grant smiled. “Tomorrow you will. Today, your mind is imperfect. It’s riddled with discrepancies, imbalance, cognitive dissonance. Your body knows well that it was created to please men, but your mind is still in denial. It’s not your fault. You were raised by a corrupt, unnatural, outdated system of morality. They never told you how simple and liberating your true nature was. They made it complex, difficult, burdensome. Didn’t they?”

“Liberating?” asked Ayla. This time it was definitely a question.

“Yes, liberating.” He said and unzipped his pants to reveal his semi-erect cock. “What is this, sweetheart?”

“Your penis, Sir,” she replied, nervously.

“What does your mind tell you, when you see one of these?”

“I’m to be used. You’re going to… rape me, Sir,” she said timidly.

“Yes, your mind tells you that you’re about to suffer. Feel pain and sorrow. It warns you against an ordeal.”

Ayla nodded.

“Now check your mouth and your pussy. Your pussy is definitely wet. And your mouth is watering with anticipation, isn’t it?”

Ayla paused for a moment, and nodded in shame. He was right on both cases.

“See, that’s what I’m talking about. That disconnect between your mind and your body. I’ll get rid of it. I’ll reach into your little brain, rip some unnecessary tissue off together with your unnatural moral scruples, and put this marvelous thing in there. It will make you feel better, serve better, obey better. It will simply make you better. Don’t you worry.”

Tears appeared at the corner of Ayla’s eyes.

Grant smiled. “Tears of joy? Now, come and suck my cock for the last time, Ayla. After all, I’ll kill you tomorrow…” He grabbed her hair and pulled her toward his crotch. He held his cock, now at full hardness, and pressed it against her ear, simulating cranial penetration. “Figuratively, of course. This imperfect version of you will be no longer when I’m done penetrating your brain. Then I’ll blow life into a new Ayla. One who’ll wake up grateful, appreciative, and perfectly obedient.”


1708740065246.png




He turned her head, now soaked in tears, and shoved his cock in her mouth. He bunched her hair in his left fist to make facefuck handle and started to use her to head to masturbate. More tears gushed out of the girl’s eyes as she choked and struggled for air.

Grant seemed unmoved by her desperate gasps. He skullfucked her brutally for minutes until he finally climaxed. When he did, he pushed her head down and unloaded everything in her mouth, kept her there for a long moment, then pulled her back and kicked her gasping body away. Ayla fell backwards and assumed fetal position as she struggled to catch her breath. Her wrists and ankles were still joined together.

“We’ll do this again after the operation,” he said after a while, “to see how much you improved. It’s all for the advancement of science, of course.”
 

The Operation - 23​


The landscape of the capital region was a complex melange of contradictions and contrasts that constantly surprised visitors and locals alike. Maidenfair was a bustling modern city with vibrant economic activity, mostly based on and fuelled by slave trade. It was the shiny new face of the country the regime spent most of its resources and efforts to impress friend and foe. But if you ventured northwards, you’d start to notice the decaying wreckage the global economic collapse left behind. The old industrial district, once a major powerhouse of the hemisphere, now lay in ruins. Rotting corpses of factories and depots dotted the area. Only a few warehouses closest to the city were still in use, mostly for temporary slavegirl storage during Fair season.

Once you travelled further north, the landscape would drastically change again, into an underdeveloped rural area, a green belt that was dominated by the idyllic settlements of Banghaven, Hoaretown, and Bitcham. Those towns were where the upper middle class and the elite lived, far from the incessant commotion of the capital. Bitcham, spread along the southern face of Mount Marteau was the favorite of the well-paid high-level bureaucrats. It had strict zoning laws to keep the unwashed masses away, and the commute was short. Beyond the town stretched the vast northern plateau, a seemingly endless patchwork of large breeding farms and training ranches.

The air was cool and clean. That was what Lidia noticed first when the men took her out of the trunk of the car. It reminded her the fishing village, and Sally’s beautiful smiling face.

The ginger commander cut Katalin’s zip-ties to release her wrists and ankles and led her inside the house. It was a two-storey building in a large garden with high fences and thick layer of well-kept bushes that provided much needed privacy for the residents. Zoning laws kept the buildings low and far apart, providing extra privacy for the corrupt bureaucrats who populated the town. Of course, all liked to rape and torture women for fun, but nobody liked to listen to others do it. And that made Bitcham the perfect place for a safehouse location.

Martin removed her hood and smiled. Lidia smiled back. She raised her tied wrists, expecting to be released like Katalin.

“No, not yet,” said the man. “First we have to run a full check and settle down.” His smile turned mischievous. “And frankly, I enjoy the view. You look even sexier when you’re tied like this.”

“You still find me sexy? I thought I lost my allure when my real identity was revealed.”

“Not at all. If anything, it made you sexier. A double agent, a traitor, turned traitor, turned traitor? Hard to keep track of, but definitely exciting.”

“I’m not a traitor,” said Lidia, slightly offended. “I never really betrayed anyone. I’m only trying to survive. Funny, I repeatedly fall unconscious and wake up in a different team every single time.”

Ktinodis laughed and pointed to her bound ankles. “So, do you want me to carry you, or would you like to bunnyhop inside.”

“Clumsily bunnyhopping in front of you might damage the badass double-agent slash guerrilla image I’m trying to preserve. Besides, I really like it when you lift me up like I weigh nothing.” She paused and smiled. “And I like it when you rape me afterwards.”

“You use that word liberally,” said Ktinodis. “I understand it basically means ‘fuck’ here, but…”

“Everything means ‘fuck’ here,” replied the girl. “I’ll say whatever you want to call it. Violate me? Use me? Utilize, exploit, screw, hump, bang, shag, do, take, seize, penetrate, ream, pump, crush me?”

“You are the most attractive thesaurus I have ever seen,” chuckled Ktinodis. He grabbed the girl and pulled her in for a short but passionate kiss. Lidia immediately surrendered to his lips.

He let her go. She licked her lips and smiled coyly. She liked the feeling.

“Halfway into the trip, you stopped for a long time. I was scared. I thought it was a road block.” She paused and swallowed. “This was a big mistake. They are probably looking for me all around the country. You are risking a lot.”

“It was a herd of cowgirls.”

“What?”

“We had to stop and wait because a herd of cowgirls was crossing the road. It was a sight to behold. Hundreds of beautiful young women, tits full of milk, crawling naked. They had buttplug tails, fake horns, and big cowbells around their necks. Simply surreal! Never seen anything like it.”

He smiled and brushed a few stray strands of hair behind her ear. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.”


1708740123367.png



“Back at the camp…” she said timidly, “had the moustache-man told you to break my neck…”

“I guess we’ll never know,” said Ktinodis. “But I’m glad ‘the moustache-man’ didn’t give the order.” He stroke her slender neck gently. She shivered.

“You really took out four SEFR agents just to save me?”

He nodded.

“I felt a gust of air. Heard almost nothing. You were like a ghost.”

“You were drugged,” said Hermes.

“No, I was paralyzed but fully aware of my surroundings. It was eerie.”

“You are scared of me?”

Lidia looked into his eyes like a shy girl. “A little. But… good scared. Not terrified. It kinda makes you even more mysterious.”

“I have that effect on women,” he sighed. “Even the ones I didn’t save from rapey fascists.”

“How many women?”

“Excuse me?”

“The girl, Marisa, she told me you guys have policules over there in the Ottohun wonderland of rainbows and ice cream. She was in one, her ‘husband’ is in one. I imagine you must have a bunch of smitten babes in your coop.”

“Nothing regular,” he said and stopped. There was no need to mention his late wife, or the occasional co-workers he had one night-stands with.

“Are you looking?”

“Looking?”

“For women… for your policule. Can I be in it?”

Ktinodis smiled. “Okay, I’l play. You want to be in my policule? Why would I take you? What can you bring to the table? I mean, besides that gorgeous body and infinite number of interesting stories to tell.”

“I’m also quite bendy,” Said Lidia and grabbed the metal bar over their head with her tied hands. She pulled herself up and threw her legs in the air like a gymnast, and trapped his head between her shins before he could react. He had to take half a step forward to compensate for the weight she placed on the back of his neck but remained more or less unaffected by the impact.

Lidia exhaled in the most arousing way possible and relaxed her muscles. Her torso dropped forward and her butt hit his crotch. She used her tied ankles to lift herself up again and adjust her position, pressing her swollen holes against his awakening genitals.

“Impressive,” commented Ktinodis, making no attempt to hide his insta-boner. He was constantly aroused around this fallen angel anyway. He grabbed her by her slender waist with both hands and pulled her towards him. His erection was nestled in the cosy, warm, welcoming nook between her legs. He kept her tight. The feeling was extremely satisfying.

They remained like that for a while, reluctant to ruin the moment. It was a strange serene break to their playful banter. Lidia enjoyed both. She liked this new thing a lot. Intimacy.

“I never felt like this before,” she said after a long silence. “I feel ‘need,’ constantly, but never ‘desire.’ I desire… No, I crave it.” She looked into his eyes pleadingly. “Would you please take it out and shove it in?” She hugged his cock with her blushing, swollen, wet slit.

“I don’t know,” said the man, “Things changed since… You’re no longer that exotic guerrilla chick that I’d never see again.” He immediately felt guilty for adding the last part, but she didn’t seem offended. “Technically, you are more like a prisoner than a comrade.”

“Even better,” whispered Lidia. “I’m your prisoner. You can have your way with me. You can ask me questions and call it an interrogation if you like.” She smiled and lifted herself up to rub his crotch seductively. “Come on. You’re a big strong man and I’m a little girl, all tied-up. I’m at your mercy.”

“Weren’t you bragging earlier about taking out three FLF operatives with your hands tied at your back?”

“Yeah,” Lidia chuckled. “I did do that. But my legs were free. And those were just girls. Not a testosterone-infused bundle of muscles like you.”

“That’s the most romantic pet name,” said Ktinodis and reached for his zipper. Lidia held her breath as he took his cock out and placed it at the entrance of her delighted pussy. He grabbed her by the waist again and pulled her onto his rod. He entered her slowly, fully savoring the incredible tightness of her warm wet hole. Her vagina hugged and devoured his erection as if she never felt the touch of a man. He impaled her fully and stopped, with his member in her snug embrace. Incredible pleasure hit her body and mind, but she didn’t scream or moan, in order not to let the others know what was happening. She didn’t want them to intervene and ruin her moment of blissful surrender.

After a long wait, he dug his fingers into her full buttcheeks and started to move her body along his steely rod as if she was an object. She loved it. She felt safe and at home in his strong hands. She felt safe enough to let go. He was big, hard, and strong. The pleasure was mind-boggling. As he picked up the pace bit by bit, she gradually lost the ability to think clearly. Moans and groans started to escape her lips. She was getting closer to another orgasm.

1708740162863.png


“Don’t tell me,” said Katalin. “They are doing it again, aren’t they?”

Tamer nodded as he switched the bug scanner off. “The house is clean.”

“That’s a relief.” She listened to the muffled moans coming from the garage for a few seconds. “You don’t have a problem with this? I mean, ‘fraternizing’ with her when she was just a girl who escorted us for a day was unprofessional and dangerous enough. But now she is a glowing hot security risk we have to drag along.”

“I don’t like it at all,” he replied.

“But you’ll turn a blind eye, because…?”

Tamer picked up a non-contaminated water bottle from his duffle-bag and handed to Katalin. “The HQ likes the idea. They changed… expanded the scope of the operation.”

“They want her,” deduced Katalin. “They want a high-ranking slavecop.”

Tamer nodded.

“To do what? She was telling the truth before. As a source of information, she is near useless.” She paused. “Wait. Do they want her in addition to the target, or instead of?”

Tamer pursed his lips. “They are concerned about the unusual lack of information about the target. The Pussianans clammed up tight. I’m certain that they know we’re here, and why we’re here. They probably know that their lost asset is travelling with us, voluntarily or involuntarily. Even if we manage to locate the target again, they will be waiting for us. We’ll be walking into a trap. So, in case of failure, the slavecop will be our consolation prize. Something to parade on TV.”

“You can parade me on TV all day long if you take me back. I wouldn’t mind at all. Just get me out of this hell.”

The couple turned to the door where Ktinodis stood with Lidia in his arms. He gently dropped the girl onto her feet.

Tamer hit Hermes with a burning glare, but didn’t say anything. Instead, he turned to the ex-slavecop with a slight smile. “Since you’re a part of the team now,” he started, “it’s better you hear it too. The folks at home would like to meet you after we’re done here. They want to have a chat with you about how things are here, in the Hive, in the Nest. You had the unique opportunity to see how things work on either side of the fight. Perhaps they’ll let you make a speech or two on TV to motivate your sisters around the globe.”

“I’ll be on TV? How exciting!” said Lidia and collapsed on the chair nearby. Her ankles and wrists were still tied.

“Actually, you’re on TV now,” said Tamer. Every Thursday, at 8 pm.

“What?”

“Don’t you know? I’m told that there’s a prime time police procedural based on your exploits. It’s called The Blue: The adventures of Agent-slave Lola Jizzguzzler. Turns out you’re a bigger celebrity than you think, Miss Gulfer.”
 
I only just read these last chapters, and "The Operation" is really turning into quite a banger in my book.

I already really liked the 3 Ottohun operatives (with special mention to the implication of Ktinodis' "condition" bio-engineering/eugenics, which could also explain the limitless surplus of hot girls, and which makes sense as a development after the man-whipping virus).
Then we got Lydia (which was great), then Minerva (brainy = my type)...

And now Viltis is back and better than ever. I already loved him in "Mastery", and now we get him back (and a great nod to his previous appearance, yay for worldbuilding!). I'm looking forward to more of the Viltis/Minerva pairing. Tat s***t is the nuts!.

Plus we got a great explanation for Persephone's "loyalty" to the androcratie. and it doubles-up as great character-building and source of trauma/internal conflict for my girl Minerva.

I was kind of bummed that Ayla's conditioning (which I also love) is not "natural", but due to a device. But it also makes sense, given the amount of effort and time put into it (meaning: lack thereof).
 
There's a new chapter of "The Harvest" would you guys prefer it be posted here or a separate thread solely dedicated to the harvest?
Since once started as one E-Novella thing I`d assume keeping it here all together instead of splitting it up makes sense. Easier to stay connected...
Great Big THANK YOU
 
Last edited:
There's a new chapter of "The Harvest" would you guys prefer it be posted here or a separate thread solely dedicated to the harvest?
You set it up originally to post different Novellas, and I think it makes sense to carry on this way.

One: because Erenisch's schedule remain consistent regardless of how many novella they're working on simultaneously, so if we had 1 thread per novella, some of them would be "dead" for long periods (and the thread for finished novella would fade into the last pages of the forum (aka: obscurity).
Two: some novella will certainly have very few chapters, in this case dedicated threads wouldn't be worth it, but we cannot know in advance which novella would be the short ones.
Three: to me having several novella updated here doesn't seem too messy, especially since the stories are (often) connected (and we can filter for "attachment posts", and it might be possible to add an index or edit the first post into one if that change in the future)
 
You set it up originally to post different Novellas, and I think it makes sense to carry on this way.

One: because Erenisch's schedule remain consistent regardless of how many novella they're working on simultaneously, so if we had 1 thread per novella, some of them would be "dead" for long periods (and the thread for finished novella would fade into the last pages of the forum (aka: obscurity).
Two: some novella will certainly have very few chapters, in this case dedicated threads wouldn't be worth it, but we cannot know in advance which novella would be the short ones.
Three: to me having several novella updated here doesn't seem too messy, especially since the stories are (often) connected (and we can filter for "attachment posts", and it might be possible to add an index or edit the first post into one if that change in the future)
AGREED!
 

The Operation - 24


Richard Nagel was a creature of habit. He was a machine. An old, overweight, ailing one, but a machine nonetheless. His entire day was planned out and his routine was perfectly executed by a sizable harem of slavewomen.

His morning slaves Piglet and Cutlet woke him up with a slow double blowjob at 6:30 as recommended by the FSO. He would fuck one of them in the shower while the other prepared his breakfast. The girls would then take their places under the table to kiss his feet as he ate.

1710129918574.png




If it’s a workday, the two petite teens would dress him up and send him away. Then they would return to their cages by the bed and prepare for the next morning routine. Unless, of course, Nagel decided to get rid of one or both of them. He often did, whenever a girl failed to satisfy him. Girls came and went, but all had the same servonyms. Piglet was the 18th girl to carry the name, and Cutlet was the 23rd.

When he returned from the Hive, he was welcomed home by a specialized trio of slavecunts, always from the same family. Nagel liked to own family sets. His current afternooners were a 39 year-old mother and her two teenage daughters. They would act as if they were his own family, ask him about his day, bring him snacks and drinks, rub his feet, stuff like that. But that weird charade always ended in the same way, with a triple blowjob and rough assrapes.

He would then leash them and take them to the nearby petgirl park, which was five minutes walk from his house. North Bitcham had great public rape areas, and this particular park was arguably the best in the country. It was one of the major reasons he purchased his property.
Of course, as the Chief of SEFR, several bodyguards followed him whenever he left his home, but they knew to keep their distance while he received a long slow blowjob and watched the town’s exquisite petgirls frolic around the park.

Dinner was served at seven, prepared by his kitchen slaves Cookie and Sweets, the 7th and 11th slavecooks to be named as such. He ate with the family trio kissing his feet, then he picked one or two of them for the night. Of course, he roughed the lucky one up in his fully-equipped torture dungeon first. She had to pay for the comfort of getting raped on a bed, while the others spent the night in their small cages.

This day was no different. After work, his driver dropped him off at the gate and left to park the car. His fake wife Slapslut welcomed him at the door properly by kissing his feet. He spent some time with the family he purchased, and fucked his ironically named “daughters” Virginia and Chastity for a while. After resting a bit, he leashed them and left for the park. Woefully untrained, none of the three was particularly good at bitchwalking, but Nagel didn’t mind their awkward crawling. To the contrary, he enjoyed watching them struggle in panic. The women knew well that their days were numbered, and they always did their absolute best to satisfy their owner to prolong their miserable lives.

He entered the park and walked up to his usual bench. Unfortunately, it was occupied by a middle-aged man being served by a cocksucker. He swore under his breath and walk past them to sit io the next bench 10 meters away. He settled down, ordered Chastity to suck his cock, and sent Virginia and Slapslut away to play with other women crawling around the lawn. Watching naked women on all-fours was his favorite pass-time.

“Good evening!”

Nagel turned to the man sitting on his bench. “Good evening,” he replied with a non-enthusiastic, almost openly angry tone.

“We are in your spot, aren’t we?” the man asked. “I saw it in your face. We can swap, if you like?”

“No, that’s fine,” Nagel replied. “This one is as good.”

It wasn’t.

“Come on!” the other insisted. “I know that look. I have that look myself several times every day. We’ll swap.” He grabbed the brunette who was dutifully sucking his cock by the hair and pulled her away, then slapped her so she would drop on her hands and knees like a good pet. He stood up and walked towards Nagel and Chastity.

“You have a very good girl over there. So young and enthusiastic. Such a beauty.”

Nagel forced a smile. A couple of his bodyguards attempted to approach and stop the strange man, but he subtly gestured them to stand back.

“How rude of me,” said the man with the ginger moustache. “I’m Alex Wolfson, and this is my wife Marisa.”

“Dick Nagel,” the chief replied and shook the hand the man extended. He wanted to get rid of the man as soon as possible, but his wife caught his eye. She was a tall, gorgeous brunette exuding untamed strength and undamaged grace. She intrigued him. “I don’t remember seeing you around here before,” he said with his gaze wandering around the woman’s shapely body. “Are you new in town?”

“Recently moved in,” said the man. “I apologize for the intrusion. We don’t know anyone here, so I’m desperately trying to make friends wherever I go.”

Nagel absentmindedly nodded, still ogling the brunette.

“You like my Marise, huh?”

“Excuse me?”

“My wife. She looks very fuckable doesn’t she?” He smiled. “Would you like a quick swap?”

A smile appeared on Nagel’s fat face for the first time since the beginning of the conversation. “I’d like that.” He slapped Chastity to stop her. The girl immediately sat back on her heels and lowered her gaze like a guilty pup. “Would you like this one? I have two others playing over there.” He pointed at Virginia and Slapslut aimlessly crawling around.

“No, this one looks wonderful.” He pointed to the bench he came from. “Go ahead, take Marise to your spot.” He grabbed his wife by the hair and handed her to Nagel. The Chief smiled and stood up, dragged the woman on all-fours to the other bench and shoved his cock in her ready mouth without wasting any time. She started to suck slowly, as Chastity began serving the ginger man on the other bench.

Nagel immediately felt something was different. She was great. Fresh and unusual. She almost had an “accent” in her blowjob. “Where are you from, slut?” he asked.

“Twattenham, Sir,” she replied and continued to suck.

“This technique… Is this your special routine for your husband?”

“Yes sir,” she replied. “Would you like me to change it? What’s your favorite style?”

“No. I like it. Keep doing this.”

“Yes Sir,” she smiled and resumed the blowjob.

He leaned further back and let the woman work her magic for a while. She looked wonderful with a cock in her mouth. She was one of those women.

“Are you sharable?” he asked after a while. “You’re an exceptional fuckmeat. I’d like to threehole you if your husband’s okay with it. “

“You want to fuck my other holes?” she smiled. “Yes, my husband shares me with friends and family often.” She let the cock slip out of her mouth and started to lick it respectfully.

The most disgusting grin stretched from ear to ear on Nagel’s mug. “Good. We are friends now, aren’t we?”


1710129959408.png
 

Similar threads

5 6 7 8 9
Replies
165
Views
236K
  • Technical Tags Technical Tags 2dcg
  • Sexual/Kinks Tags Sexual/Kinks Tags harem
  • Genre Tags Genre Tags parody
Replies
2
Views
2K
  • Sexual/Kinks Tags Sexual/Kinks Tags bdsm harem
  • Character Tags Character Tags slave
Replies
6
Views
8K
Replies
6
Views
13K
Replies
545
Views
2M
Back
Top Bottom