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[Erenisch] Novella.

The Journey, by Erenisch​

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For now the story has 34 chapters, and is actively being worked on.
It takes place in parallel with 'the Operation' and 'the Havest'. Meaning after 'Mastery' (and likely after 'Milk'), and after 'Slavecop 03' (so during 'The Stevensons')

Synopsis:
Journalist Nora Jasiri and her cameraman Marcel travel from their ('Pre-Slavery') home country of the Sub-Saharan Confederacy to Pussiana to shed light on the horrors of the Androcratic country.

Variant covers:

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And here's a post with a list of Erenisch's stories, more or less in order + links to epub compilations of the chapters

2025-11-16: Added Ch34
 

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The Lawsuit, by Erenisch​

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For now the story has 22 chapters, and is actively being worked on.
It takes place after 'Birthday Girl 11' and 'Milk'.
And here's a post with a list of Erenisch's stories, more or less in order + links to epub compilations of the chapters

Synopsis:
3 girls who were used to distract Peter Stevenson while boys raped Maggy get brought to justice.
 

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Mystery, by Erenisch​

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For now the story has 09 chapters, and is actively being worked on.
It takes place after 'Mastery'.
And here's a post with a list of Erenisch's stories, more or less in order + links to epub compilations of the chapters

Synopsis:
A blueneck Private Investigator and her young boss investigate a missing person (freewoman) case.

2026-01-17 Edit: Added Chapter 09
 

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So cool to see new content about Bouncytits! The old Erenisch forum used to have a bunch of stories about her.

Does anyone know if those stories are still accessible? If people like these stories then I bet they’d find those a treasure trove.
 
Disculpen, Âżsaben si hay alguna historia nueva de Erenisch? Y, por casualidad, Âżalguien podrĂ­a compartir la Ăşltima historia de "The Milk"?
 
So cool to see new content about Bouncytits! The old Erenisch forum used to have a bunch of stories about her.

Does anyone know if those stories are still accessible? If people like these stories then I bet they’d find those a treasure trove.
I don't think so I'll check though.

don't think you can because I've checked the way back machine and you have to login to view them so you probably can't unless e brings back the forum
 

The Operation - 44​


“Gentlemen, if you could give us some privacy.”

A loud groan of frustration rose from the he crowd of men as they reluctantly emptied the Black Box. Each and every one of them were hoping to participate in the inevitable first gangrape of the captured spy.

Viltis couldn’t care less about the meatheads shaking with vengeful rage. A worthless bunch of morons. He continued to circle around the beautiful spy’s heavily restrained naked body stretched on a rape table. About a dozen SEFR and military personnel were killed, including a member of his own team, but he was unagitated and calm as if nothing unusual happened. His cadence was slow and monotonous, and his voice was soft. It carried no ominous notes whatsoever.

Gloria knew better of course. Viltis was anything but soft and cuddly. He was the most dangerous predator she had seen. He was patient, stealthy, sneaky… He liked to play with his food. Like a cat playing with a mouse.

No, perhaps… it was more like a dance.

After the last man left the room, she turned around to follow. “You stay, A-S Bouncytits!” ordered Viltis without taking his eyes off the beautiful captive. “I might need a woman’s touch later.”

“Yes Master-Agent.”

He completed another round and stopped between the prisoner’s parted long legs. He put his hands on her shackled ankles and then started to playfully walk his fingers along her shin bone. Her entire body shivered. His digits stopped when they reached her knees, ran around in circles a couple times, then continued to walk up her thighs. When they finally met over her shivering pubic mound, he put his thumbs on her pussy lips and pulled them apart, gently, revealing the glistening pink flesh in between.

“What do you call it in your language?” he asked with a soft voice. “Your primary fuckhole?”

Katalin blinked nervously and exhaled. The wide ring gag that was inserted in her mouth immediately after her capture still kept her jaw wide open, so he wasn’t really expecting her to answer. He was not there to interrogate her. He was there to gloat. Savor her fear.

No, she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. She wasn’t going to show fear. She was going to face the pain and humiliation bravely, like a soldier.

“Ah! Where are my manners!” he exclaimed and slapped her trembling pussy. “Introductions! Master-Agent Viltis of the Slavery Enforcement and Fugitive Retrieval Bureau. I happen to be the head of the task force that was created to pursue you bunch of miscreants.” He pointed to Gloria without breaking eye contact. “And this is Agent-slave Gloria Bouncytits… who, because of your actions, is what remains of my team.”

Gloria straightened up at the mention of her servonym.

“Oh yes, you’ve been very naughty, haven’t you Miss…” He paused and stroked his chin in an overly theatrical way. “Right. We don’t even know your name, do we? I could remove the gag and ask you nicely, of course, but we both know that you are not ready to give up that information yet. You will, most definitely, after we send you to Department 101. Don’t you have any doubt about that. Oh, you’ll tell us everything we need to know. You’ll tell us everything you think we want to know. You won’t be able to shut the fuck up. But not just yet.”

He made a two-finger pistol with his right hand and started to rub her slit casually. Katalin groaned again. She knew well that she was going to be abused and raped in the most violent and humiliating ways possible, of course. She was surprised that it hasn’t happened yet.

“I’m sure you have heard about our infamous department 101?” he stared at her as he rubbed her slit. She didn’t react. “Of course you have. Personally, I despise those assholes. Bunch of brutes with no skills other than inflicting pain. No class, no finesse. But I have to admit, they get results. Trust me when I say, they have broken tougher nuts than you. Experienced, battle-hardened, tough women. Warriors all.” He inserted his fingers in her pussy, forcing a helpless whimper out of her. “You, on the other hand, have no experience. I can instantly see it in your eyes. You are too young, fresh, pristine, tight…” He forced his pistol-hand deeper into her, hitting her vulva with his knuckles. “Can it be… your first time? No… no way! Is this your first mission?”

Katalin held her breath. “It is!” the man chuckled. “Can you believe it, Ayass Bouncytits? A fucking rookie!” He pulled his hand out of her, joined his fingers together to make a bigger drill-bit, and rammed it back in her pussy without mercy. Caught by surprise by the sudden assault, Katalin let out a loud groan this time. Tears gushed out of the corners of her eyes.


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“Such a shame,” said Viltis and rolled up his sleeve to penetrate her deeper. He was now fisting the poor woman with a slow and steady pace. “Caught by slavers in your first ever mission. I feel for you, Miss-… Ah! I keep doing it. Still don’t know your name!” He smiled. “Perhaps I should name you myself. After all, you now belong to us. We will enslave you, rename you, rape you, beat you, train you like a dog, and eventually kill you in the most entertaining way. I’m sure you know that already?”

Katalin held her breath again. She tried her best to hide her fear.

“I don’t want to give you the wrong impression, little spy. It won’t be that simple. That process will take months… perhaps years of rape, torture, and humiliation. Day and night, no rest, no mercy. You’ll be in constant use, serving an endless line of dicks. At first, you will hate it. Then you’ll get used to it. And finally, you’ll learn to love it. Only then you’ll be ready to be snuffed in the name of the Glorious Androcratic Revolution.”

Katalin felt a strong urge to shake her head in defiance, but managed to keep still in spite of the violent fisting he was giving her. She had never been fisted before. It hurt like hell, but the physical pain she was feeling wasn’t what set her mind aflame.

She tried to remember her training. Of course, she knew that they would break her eventually. Everybody would break, no exceptions. They thought her that at the academy. The interrogation resistance techniques she learned were nothing but ways to delay the inevitable. If only she could hold out long enough to let her comrades disappear…

This guy, her rapist, he certainly knew that as well. He continued to fistfuck her for a few more minutes and stopped. He took a step back and put his palms on her knees. “You have beautiful legs,” he said. “You are very beautiful overall. Don’t you agree, Ayass Bouncytits? Isn’t she gorgeous?”

“Yes Master-Agent,” replied the redhead, dryly.

“I may be biased,” he continued, “but I always believed that our females were the most beautiful rapemeat in the world. The best. Prettier, taller, fitter, perfect fuckdolls all around. And that’s not by accident. We don’t leave selection to nature. We breed them. We do gene manipulation, chemical beautification, enhancements, modifications… And the FSO, our notorious Female Standards Office, regularly removes sub-standard cunts from the gene pool. What we’re left with are the best of the best.” He leaned forward to look into her eyes. “You definitely shatter that illusion of Pussianan exceptionalism, little spy. You’re no Pussianan, as far as I can tell, but definitely one of the most beautiful things I’ve seen.”

“Anyway,” he exclaimed and threw his hands in the air. “Back to the issue of your new name! Your death as a naughty little spy and rebirth as mindless fuckmeat.” He walked around the rape table and wiped his pussy-juice covered hand on her hair.


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Would you believe that I never renamed a woman before? I have named my petgirls, but those were cute silly caninyms. A proper slavecunt needs a proper servonym. Especially a special one like you. A good servonym should hurt every single time it’s uttered, like a heavy gut-punch.” He used his free hand to slap her on the stomach. Katalin exhaled in pain. “Something brutally descriptive… to remind you what you’ll be for the rest of your short life. Perhaps something old-school, with the word ‘rape’ in it? What about… Rapecunt?”
 

The Operation - 45​


“You must be hungry.”

“Not really, Ayass Cumg-… Lidia.”

Lidia put the sandwich and the glass of water on the nightstand, then sat next to Minerva. The captured intelligence officer was lounging on the bed, completely naked, handcuffed, with her metal collar chained to the bed post. She looked surprisingly calm for a prisoner.

“Snacks first, huh? Will I be raped after?”

“They won’t touch you, Minerva,” smiled Lidia. “That’s not how these guys operate.”

“Oh? Was I stripped naked for nothing? Shame. I liked the silent tall one. He looks mysterious and…”

“I never pegged you as a joker, Minerva,” Lidia interrupted. “Is this the behavior pattern your algorithm suggests for such situations?”

“Uh… Sorry,” exhaled the other. “You’re right. No, it’s not the algorithm. I actually stopped following its suggestions to the letter. Lost confidence in it a while ago, you know. I guess… I’m just nervous. I have never been in this situation.” She looked down and smiled bitterly. “I mean… I was stripped, restrained, and chained to a bed more times than I remember… but not by the enemy.”

“They… We… We’re not your enemy, Minerva. Trust me, I’ve been there, in your situation.”

“Chained naked to the bed?”

“Well… to a tree.” She smiled and stroke the other’s shoulder in a friendly manner. “But seriously, when I was their prisoner, I was sure that I was going to end up in a ditch after a short while. But somehow I ended up on the team. They trusted me enough, and I trust them. You know, enemy of my enemy, all that stuff.”

“I agreed to come peacefully because I didn’t have much choice, Lidia. But spare me the sales pitch, will you? I’ll not commit an act of treason-”

“Of course not,” interrupted the ex-slavecop and winked. “Not before we make it out of this hellhole of a country.” She pointed to Minerva’s discarded torn clothes at the other side of the room. That’s why I suggested to keep you naked and chained at all times. If your pals somehow manage to locate us and storm the place, they’ll find you in this state, looking like a prisoner, not a traitor.”

“Uh! How considerate of you. I doubt if they would buy it. Restrained but not raped and beaten?”

“You’re surprisingly obsessed about this,” chuckled the redhead. “I you want, I can go and drag one of the guys in. If they are not agreeable, I can throw on a strap-on and rough you up myself.”

“You know what I mean.” shrugged the other. “You and I both know, I’d be ‘debriefed’ at Department 101 for a few days regardless of what they think happened. It’s the standard operating procedure for processing female personnel after being captured by the enemy.”

“What about a foreign operative? What the SOP for that?”

The two young women turned to the door where Tamer was standing.

“You’re bleeding.” Lidia pointed to the bloody bandage on his arm. “I’ll get the med kit and…”

Tamer dismissed the suggestion with a hand wave. “Don’t bother. It looks worse than it really is.”

Lidia sat back down. “Suit yourself, big man. Agent Minerva McKluge, meet Mr Alex Wolfson, team leader.” Tamer nodded and pulled a chair to sit.

“Pleased to meet you at last,” greeted Minerva, and shook her chain with her cuffed hands. “I’m sorry, can’t get up to salute.”

Tamer ignored her cheeky comment. “I’ll cut to the chase, Agent McKluge. I’ll appreciate if you enlighten me about your procedures. I want to know everything about SEFR facilities my colleague could have been taken to. Security systems, manpower, sched-”

“It doesn’t matter,” interrupted the prisoner. “You cannot possibly get her back. I don’t know how you managed to locate and infiltrate the HSCD, and get Project Helen out. It was an impressive feat, I’ll admit. But it’s over now. You cannot pull such a magic trick again. Not with the entire SEFR and the army on alert. If I were you, I’d forget about her, cut my losses, and try to get out of the country as quickly as possible.”

Tamer leaned back and pursed his lips.

Lidia matched his movement by leaning forward. “Of course he already knows that, Minerva. He’s a very smart and experienced officer. But you see, he has a weakness. He feels responsible for that brunette. He might even have feelings for her.” She leaned back again when Tamer gave her a fiery stare. “Just tell him what will happen to the girl. I shared with him my own prediction already, but I’m just a hound. I guess he needs to hear it from a ranking officer.”

Minerva looked at the man’s face for a few seconds. He was impossible to read, not unlike Viltis.


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“Standard operating procedure is simple,” she started after a while. “She will be taken to the Hive to be raped and tortured at Department 101. Nobody really knows what happens in that black box other than the monsters who work there, but I’ll give you the water-cooler version. They will inject her with chems and hurt her incessantly until she eventually breaks. After she breaks, they will start over and double the abuse. She will tell everything about you, all the details about your mission, your real names, strengths, weaknesses, procedures… If she’s trained well enough, it will take 4-5 days to spill it all. The cycle will repeat several times, until they are convinced that she was out of things to say. In a month or so, what remains of her will be thrown down one of the two chutes. She will either end up in a garbage bag or in the SEFR high security cunt storage. If she’s lucky, she will live out her days encased in a metal frame, being force-fed swine ejaculate and piss, regularly violated by rape machines, and randomly electrocuted throughout the day. If she’s unlucky, she’ll be dragged around the country to be publicly humiliated, tortured and abused for months and years, and eventually rapexecuted in a spectacular way.”

She stopped to see if her words had any discernible impact on his stern expression. Perhaps a small twitch in his left eye?

“I’ll repeat my question,” he said calmly. “Locations, security systems, manpower, schedules…”

“You cannot be serious,” exclaimed Minerva. “Didn't you hear me? You cannot save her.”

“I don’t need to save her,” he replied. “I just need to kill her.”



* * *


“She is something,” commented Director Thikett as he casually squeezed and slapped Katalin’s defenseless tits. “Definitely an S-grade.”

“That’s the point, isn’t it?” replied Viltis. “That’s why she was chosen for this mission, the poor thing. Certainly not because of her vast experience and abilities.”

“There is an angry crowd out there,” the director pointed to the door of the special vault. “They’re dying to barge in here and start double-ending and roughing up this little bitch. They were humiliated, a lot of them lost their buddies and comrades today… If they come in, it would be rather difficult to stop them from raping her to death.”

“And that’s exactly why I’m keeping her locked in here,” Viltis said. “I ordered those meatheads to stay away from her. No raping the prisoner until I say so.”

“Then It’s a good thing I outrank you,” chuckled Thikett. He unzipped his pants, took his erect cock out, and penetrated Katalin without any hesitation. She let out a surprised groan.

Viltis raised an eyebrow, but did not protest as the director proceeded to fuck the beautiful captive's pussy in an unhurried manner. “Wonderful!” he commented. “Like a virgin.” He turned to Viltis. “Was she? A virgin?” Viltis shook his head no.

“She might as well be,” said the man as he increased his tempo. He leaned forward, wiped the young victim’s tears with his index finger and tasted them. “Cries like one. Very tight too. And it’s like her body responds to my thrusts in an unusual way. Perhaps I’m imagining it… but I kind of feel that her rape-reaction is rather different than Pussianan pussy.” He turned to A-S Gloria Bouncytits, who had been standing in the corner in silence. “What do you think, sidecunt whatsyourface? Did you notice any unusual reactions?”

“This female obviously isn’t used to frequent utilization like us Pussianan rapestock are, Master-Director,” Gloria replied hastily, surprised by the question. “This cunt thinks… the difference, if any, must be negligible. It doesn’t matter if she was raised here or in a far away country. She’s just fuckmeat.”

“Just meat?” Thicket slapped Katalin’s tits and thighs a few times. “There is no such thing. Just meat! Every piece of meat is different, special, sweetheart.” He started to pound the poor captive’s cervix with deep, violent thrusts. “Did you know, sidecunt redhead, that my father was a rancher? He raised cows and sheep and whatever before the ungulate extinction. I barely remember those smelly beasts myself, but my old man kept telling stories about them until his passing. He used to talk our ears off, that old fart. The flavor of the meat, he used to say, varied according to the animal’s diet or living conditions. This cow ate these herbs on the sunny side of this hill, so it was tastier, he used to say. That free range chicken tasted better than the one that lived and died in a small cage.”

Bouncytits nodded. She threw a confused look at Viltis. Her boss seemed mildly amused by Thikett’s story.

“Your dreams, memories, the things you like, the things you want… They are like those special herbs on that mountain for you girls. They are the reason some of you taste much better.”

He pulled out of Katalin’s pussy, his rod all slopped up with her juices, then he pushed the tip down to penetrate her anal opening. A pained wheeze escaped Katalin’s mouth that was propped wide open by a metal ring gag. He pushed his cock in up to the balls and pressed forward, until he saw the agony on her face, then started to fuck her with slow but deep thrusts.

“Some have such intricate, complex flavors, it’s a crime raping them for a few minutes and sending back to their cages without savoring them fully. You have to make a it a whole experience. A ceremony, a feast, even. You have to have a well prepared main course, like this wonderful whore here, but also a couple of side dishes, perhaps an aged redhead to go with them.” He turned to Gloria again and gestured her to approach. “Of course, you have to finish with a sweet dessert.”

Gloria rushed towards the director and fell on her knees in front of him half a second before he pulled out of Katalin’s well-pounded secondary fuckhole. She opened her mouth and let the man shove his throbbing dick in to empty his balls down her gullet. She started to perform a soft-and-slow while he continued to ejaculate, as recommended by the official service manuals she memorized form cover to cover. She continued to serve dutifully until the finishing slaps, licked his member clean and zipped him up, then quickly returned to her original place.


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“That’s a very good girl you got there, Viltis.”

“It was A-S Bouncytits who caught the girl,” said the other.

“You don’t say?” Thikett threw a look at the nervous redhead. “When it’s time to go public with this, we should let our girl take a bow on stage, eh? Let everybody know the name of the loyal daughter of Pussiana who caught this villainess… this filthy, despicable enemy of Androcracy!”

“Exactly my thoughts, Director,” said Viltis with a grin. “She’s perfect for the job. Regrettably, we have lost a heroine in Cumgulper. I think the people need a new star who looks as good in blue-and-whites.”
 

The Journey - 34​


Nora was careful this time. She paced and nursed her glass of Le Jus de Vierge throughout her “date” with her Pussianan colleague . With every sip she took, the conversation got more captivating, and her companion more and more attractive. She hardly needed the chems in her pricey bubbly anyway. Elsa was impossibly charming and naturally disarming… and she was extremely attractive too.

“Would you like a refill, ma’am?” the waitress asked.

“Thank you. I think I had enough,” declined the Saharan journalist. She was intoxicated enough. She chuckled for no reason. Was her smile too big and silly? She didn’t care. She was extremely horny, not unlike the time she fucked the waitress at the hotel bar.

“Looks like your friends are enjoying themselves,” Elsa pointed at Marcel and Melody obliviously sharing a long passionate kiss in another booth. “I don’t think they would mind if we do the same?” She turned to the young waitress. “Do you have a private room here where we can have a more intimate conversation, Francine?”

“No ma’am, we don’t have a public raperoom in here” the other replied and pointed to the door. “But my boss recently purchased an apartment in that building across the street to comply with the health ministry regulations. Still not much in there. Just a bed and several handcuffs.”

“We’ll take it,” interjected Nora enthusiastically. She was wet as hell.

“Of course, ma’am. It’s only ten bucks. Here’s the key.”

Marcel didn’t like the idea of letting Nora out of his sight, but he knew the futility of trying to control his partner. His objections were immediately dissipated when Melody continued to aggressively smooch his ruggedly handsome face anyway.

Elsa took Nora’s hand and led her to the small studio apartment that served as the cafe’s raperoom annex. Once they were inside, she immediately pinned the Saharan beauty to the wall, undressed her with surprising skill and speed, and drowned her in kisses. A few seconds later, their entangled naked bodies were rolling up and down the bed.

“How do you like it?” asked Elsa as she kissed and licked Nora’s long neck, “When you’re with girls, I mean… Prey or predator?”

“Oh, you know I’m a predator, Miss Braucht,” exhaled Nora. As she said it, her passionate night with the waitress flashed before her eyes. “But I recently discovered that I enjoy letting go too. Being completely at the mercy of a gorgeous woman is-”

She heard a click. She turned and looked at her left wrist, which was now locked in a standard metal handcuff. Elsa smiled and quickly locked the other end to the metal bed frame. “Too late, missy,” she said and sat on the beautiful African’s crotch. Nora’s entire body shivered when their pubic mounds made contact. “Looks like I’ll be raping you first. We can switch after I’m done with you.”

Nora whimpered in approval. Emboldened by her quick surrender, Elsa cuffed her captive’s right wrist to the other side of the bed post. She took two more from the box and secured her ankles to the foot of the bed, leaving the naked beauty fully exposed and defenseless like a starfish. She then leaned down to give her a long passionate kiss, before eventually moving her lips down the Saharan’s quivering body. She dwelled on her big boobs for a while and drew a few abstract shapes on her tight stomach with her tongue, before finally finding her way to the pink slit between her legs.


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Elsa proved to be an expert muff-diver. Her devilish tongue brought Nora to a powerful climax within seconds. The blonde raised her head to watch the waves of pleasure hit her victim one after another, then went down to continue tonguing her quivering vulva mercilessly. Soon the brunette was shaking violently once more.

“It’s the wine,” whispered Elsa as her lips returned to Nora’s neck. “It’s full of girlheaters. Doubles the lust, quadruples the pleasure. But you have already knew that, didn’t you? I saw it in your face, back at the cafe.”

“Yes, I did,” replied the other. “I knew I was going to fuck you the moment I saw you in that Fem-Vet tent. You’re absolutely gorgeous.”

“Thank you, beauty,” beamed Elsa, “I felt the exact same way.”

“So,” smiled Nora. “You wanna sit on my face and let me return the favor? Oooor you can release me so I can give you the same treatment.

“I think you should stay exactly like this for the time being, ladies!”

Nora shrieked in surprise and struggled against her restraints, and Elsa jumped off the bed when they noticed a strange man in a black suit, flanked by two others in military gear.

“Please,” the man raised his open palms in an effort to calm the two surprised women down. “No need to be scared. We mean you no harm.”

Elsa backed to the wall behind her with her arms up. “Don’t shoot” she stammered. “W-we are barenecks... Journalists... M-my friend is a … s-she … we have government permits and-”

“I know, I know,” waved the man. “Once again, my friends and I mean you no harm. Please calm down, Miss Braucht.”

“You know my n-”

“Of course I know your name. And I know all about Miss Jasiri too.” He took a step forward and gestured towards the bed. “Please, relax. Do sit down.”

Elsa slowly lowered her hands and sat back on the bed. Her eyes were fixed on the guns pointed at their heads.

“Don’t worry about the weapons,” the man smirked. “Just tranq-guns loaded with GPAC darts.” This explanation didn’t seem to relax Elsa one bit. Nora could see the beads of sweat running down the blonde’s throbbing temples. “I know you’re closely familiar with these, Miss Braucht. You have done an entire show about them. Episode 23, I believe. You did a ride-along on a Cunthound, then you pretended to be a runner, got shot by one of these…”

The blonde timidly nodded.

“Then they took you to the Hive and gangraped you for hours, just like they would with a real fluffer. And you took it like a champion. What commitment! What resilience!” He turned to Nora. “This young lady, your friend, she’s a real trooper, Miss Jasiri. She knew all about it beforehand, but still agreed to do it. This thing, GPAC, it’s a terrible drug. Truly horrific, especially if you’re beaten and raped while it’s in your system. Only a true painslut-slash-attention-whore like Elsa Braucht could take it on a stride. I have to admit, I’m not a big fan of Miss Braucht’s stupid show. I find her overly enthusiastic attitude incredibly annoying and aggravating to say the least. But the fact that she did all that made me respect her a lot.”

Nora threw a glance at Elsa to see her reaction. The blonde wasn’t moving at all. Bad memories of that painful multi-hour gangrape rushing back, perhaps? Realizing that her Pussianan colleague was terrified out of mind, she decided to try and take control of the situation.

“What is this about? Who are y-”

The man brought his index finger to his lips to interrupt the Saharan. “I know you love listening to your own voice just like your colleague does, Miss Jasiri, but It’s better if you remain silent and let me do the talking for a few seconds. Can you do that?”

She inhaled nervously.

“Wonderful! Now, first thing’s first. Please accept my sincere apologies for interrupting your evening. You have been having a wonderful time since the Fem-vet tent. I hate to come in uninvited like this. I’d have kept my distance, but there was an unexpected development that forced my hand. I hope you’ll understand.”

“You’ve been following us around?” asked Nora, bravely ignoring his earlier command for her to be silent. She already knew about the constant surveillance of course, but she wasn’t going to let this asshole do all the talking. She knew the best strategy was to remain calm and look unintimidated in such situations. It wasn’t the first time she was surrounded by armed men, after all.

Of course, she had never been caught cuffed to a bed fully naked like this before.

“Not exactly,” the man smiled. “Let’s say we’ve been following the people who were following you. I know for a fact that you’ve spotted the amateurs employed by the Ministry of Propaganda. I apologize for their incompetence. I’m embarrassed to say, not every organ of our government operates as efficiently as-”

“SEFR,” interrupted Nora. “You are from the BFA?”

“… as efficiently as expected,” finished the man putting extra stress on each word. I’m afraid I cannot disclose my identity or my affiliation. But I can tell you this. We have been quietly helping you throughout your journey. Removing red-tape, unlocking doors, securing permits, little things like that. You ever wondered how you received the permit to film the Harvest Festival out of the blue? That was us.”

“You are obviously using us for some nefarious purpose,” said Nora, trying to relax her spasming muscles. She was trying hard to look relaxed and calm, comfortable with being bound and exposed. In fact, she was constantly screaming inside. “My guess, it’s all about this celebrity dancer woman, that Ottohun girl you have been using to taunt your enemy. She is the main event, isn’t she?”

The man pursed his lips.

“There it is. I’m right, aren’t I? Yes, we were surprised when that bald midget from the Ministry of Propaganda changed his mind and gave us the permits, so we did some research. We put two and two together. You used us to attract international attention to the festival and the rapexecution show. I don’t exactly know why, but I have a few theories. Anyway, you had your wish, right? Now, are you here yo rescind the permit? Are you here to take us back to out heavily surveilled hotel room back in the capital? ”

“Not at all,” smiled the mysterious g-man. “To the contrary, I’m here with great news, Ms Jasiri. Another wonderful opportunity to advance your career and reputation. Something big.”

“I’m listening,” said Nora after a few seconds.

“You can still document the Harvest Festival if you like,” the man continued, “but I’m afraid you’ll have to get the approval of the ministry of Propaganda for every second of it. I’m sorry, but that’s how it’s gonna be.” He paused for a moment to see if Nora was going to complain. She didn’t seem surprised or willing to protest, so he continued. “No, you won’t see this dancer, as you expected. Instead, we will give you the opportunity to meet someone else. She happens to be an Ottohun too. Actually, she is a saboteur who was caught trying to infiltrate one of our military facilities. A foreign spy.”


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Milk! - 11​


A hard strike on her butt brought Bianca back. She found herself lying face down by the stream, her head half submerged in cold water. Her lucid dream of getting milked in a barn dissolved into thin air and a young man materialized in front of her eyes.

“Wake up, Commoncunt,” Darren ordered and jumped down the snail-shaped rock he perched on. He called it his ‘blowjob throne,’ where the ex-teacher-turned-sex-slave had served him orally countless times. She knew well that she wasn’t the first woman who had sucked the boy's big member at that very spot, and certainly wouldn’t be the last.

It was Darren’s self-assigned job to bring her down there after gangrapes so she could clean herself up in the stream. They now had a well-established routine. He would grab her rope and lead her down the serpentine dirt path littered with reminders of the group’s past victims. Every time she crawled along this ‘path of violation’ she noticed new things. A make-up box behind a rock, a torn undergarment hanging from a branch… Her mind wandered, went into dark places, horror scenarios unfolded in her brain. The chems they injected her with during rapes made it even worse, amplified her anxiety and paranoia. They made her forgetful too. It was entirely possible that she was discovering the same objects again and again.

He would let her rope go when they reached the water after a five-minute bitchwalk. He always sat on his rock and quietly watched while she bathed in the bubbling stream. Bianca liked that brief respite. It was not just a simple bath. It was a cleansing ritual, a spiritual experience, even. The cool water washed off all the jizz, but also calmed her restless soul.

Even more relief came when Darren called her over and milked her full jugs into a container. She always had milk in her big tits, of course. It was one of the side effects of the obedience chems she was on. She had to be milked every two-three days, like a stupid cow. During the week, her young masters often neglected that necessity, which left her in agony for days. Thankfully, Darren enjoyed milking her during their weekend rape-camp, and she was grateful for that.

More often than not, the milking was followed by a long facefuck. Handling her ex-teacher like a cow aroused Darren, made him hard as diamonds. He would sit on his rock and let her show her gratitude for a while. He would finish in her mouth, or ejaculate in the container of her milk, which she had to lap up like a dog before heading back to the camp for further utilization.

This time, however, he decided to fuck her in the ass instead. She was already exhausted from serving her five horny masters all day, so she must have passed out during the rough ass-pounding he gave her. On his command, she struggled to raise her well-used body on shaky arms and legs. She assumed the position and waited for his command to return to camp. He reached down to grab her rope and delivered the command in slap form.

One slap on the left cheek followed by a smack on the butt. She waited for another second to make sure the command sequence was completed, and started crawling towards the camp. She was now fluent in “slap.” Each one of her masters favored a different slave training technique, and Darren’s method of choice was slapping. Arthur sometimes used it too, but Darren was truly obsessed with this particular "impact language." He loved slapping women anyway.

According to the utilization schedule the boys drafted on her first day as their slave, Darren kept her on Mondays. He worked from home, so she had to serve him all day. He generally raped her hard once or twice throughout the day and made her slowsuck him as he worked. She didn’t hate that task. Darren was the best of the worst of the group by far. He treated her as a housepet, rather than a paintoy like Roland or Nate did. He didn’t make any attempts to give her pleasure, but never punished her for getting accidental orgasms either.

The mood at Darren's changed radically in the evening. When he finished his work and moved to the couch to relax, Bianca knew it was time for the slaps. She’d bring him a can of beer from the fridge and assume the position at his feet for the “lesson.” He then slapped her for an hour straight. He would go over commands in the first half, but then he proceeded to slap her silly without any specific purpose. She would relieve him a couple of times with handjobs and blowjobs during the lesson, but he didn’t stop hitting her even then. After the lesson she was allowed to rest a bit. At the end of the night, he would take her to bed and order her to perform a self-threeholing. She always did her best to please the boy fully and enjoy the violation as much as she could, because she knew that it was going to be downhill from there.

She was handed over to George the next morning. Since he had a nine-to-five job, she spent most of the day waiting in a cage in his garage. She slept and daydreamed until he arrived. George was a classic sadist with a special penchant for verbal abuse. He was surprisingly creative too, almost a prodigy in verbally humiliating women. After making her cry with his words, he used and abused her a few times and shoved her back in her cage for the night.

The next day, the real nightmare began. She was supposed to serve Ronald on Wednesday and Nate on Thursday, but those two rarely respected the schedule. They visited each other and raped her together, brought in neighbors, coworkers and other unsavory characters to join in the gangrapes. They sometimes whored her out to complete strangers too. She hated every second of that two-day chaos of pain and humiliation.

So when Arthur picked her up on Friday mornings, she was always grateful and enthusiastic. Arthur wasn’t as demanding as the rest of them anyway. His general attitude was indifference rather than senseless cruelty. He didn’t beat her much while he raped her. He already had a restricted regular of his own who he brought home occasionally, so Commoncunt sometimes helped him utilize her. She was a petite brunette called Veena, one of Arthur’s coworkers. Their first introduction was rather awkward, but they eventually got along fine after a couple of forced threesomes.

After that, she was brought back to the camp for the weekend, where she served all five of her masters for two days straight. They passed her around like common fuckmeat, made her suck their cocks and perform all kinds of humiliating tasks, even strung her up and flogged her…

On three occasions they brought other girls. All three were kidnapped from nearby towns. Young, inexperienced girls, virgins all. Such situations were mixed blessings for Commoncunt. When the boys had fresh meat, they focused on them, which made her job a lot easier. But it ruined her psychologically. Being used and abused by five assholes was one thing, witnessing a young girl’s innocence being torn apart by these wild animals was another. All three victims were the same age as her daughter, which made their two-day violations even more painful to watch for the enslaved mother.

She never knew what happened to those poor souls afterwards either. They always locked her in the trunk of the car before getting rid of the others. Bianca hoped that they simply threatened them to keep their mouths shut and let them go.

This wasn’t one of those weekends. She was the only fucktoy at the camp. She served dutifully and competently, pleasured each master exactly the way they wanted, obeyed every command without hesitation, performed every single task to their full satisfaction, took the abuse and the beatings like a trooper. She was finally getting the hang of it after nine months and three weeks.

Nine months and three weeks! On her knees, naked, with a rope around her neck. Milked like a cow, walked like a dog, raped like a whore.

She could no longer remember the last time she walked on her two feet, or the last piece of clothing she wore. She barely remembered her past life anyway. The drugs they gave her kept her in a constant haze. Fragmented and blurred her memories. Even the faces of her children…

When Darren brought her back to the camp site after spending some time by the stream, she noticed that something was off. The boys went silent when they saw her coming. Her anxiety elevated, she proceeded to her usual spot and sat on her heels. She waited for the command to start serving, but the boys kept staring at her with smirks instead.

Eventually, George took a step towards her and sat on the flogging log they used to tie her on. “You know what today is, Commoncunt?” he asked softly.

She timidly raised her eyes and looked at her former-student-turned-master with a puzzled expression. Was it a special day? Couldn’t be her E-day… or the anniversary of her purchase, or…

“It’s your birthday, you stupid cunt,” smiled George. “You forgot your own birthday?”

She did. So, it was her birthday… As if it meant something.

“Yes Master,” she said, then a terrible realization hit her. Was she too old for them now? Was it time for her final rape?

Were they going to snuff her?

“Relax, cunt,” chuckled George, when her face contorted with sudden fear. “We are not getting rid of you. No way. We all like you.” He rolled his eyes and patted the woman on the head. “Well, yes, our original plan was to rape you for a few weeks and then kill you for fun. Roland was in favor of slowly spit-roasting you alive. Nate wanted to watch you dance at the end of a rope. I personally prefer a quicker execution… like a beheading or something.” He stopped to savor the terror in the woman’s eyes for a few seconds, then continued. “But you somehow managed to steal all our hearts. You exceeded all our expectations, turned into a wonderful slave. So instead of chopping you up, we are going to reward you.”


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He gestured to Roland and Nate. “Gentlemen, if you please.”

The two stepped aside to reveal a big sack lying on the ground. Nate pulled it up and Roland cut the ropes around it. The rough cloth unraveled and dropped down, revealing a naked young woman shivering on her knees, restrained, gagged, and blindfolded. Another kidnapped local beauty, perhaps?

Bianca froze for a long moment, her brain still soaked in fear and confusion. Then suddenly, it lit up like a roman candle.

“D-Darla?”

“That’s right,” grinned Nate. “We tracked down your little daughter for you.” He pulled the young girl’s chin up to reveal her bruised neck. Bianca’s eyes widened. There was no slave band.

“Of course we cannot afford an A-grade like this,” continued Ronald. “We had to steal her from her master’s car. Luckily, Nate knows a guy who knows a guy who knows how to remove BFA bands.”

“Well, that motherfucker wasn’t the wizard he claimed to be,” added Nate. “The moron triggered the band’s automatic defenses by accident. Apparently there’s a small GPAC capsule in those things. Did you guys know about that?”

“Everybody knows that, you imbecile,” smirked Arthur.

“Well, I didn’t,” waved Nate. “Long story short, we destroyed the chip and whatnot, so they cannot track her down. Anyway, she was incapacitated for a while. Not a lot of fun, fucking a chick lying paralyzed.” He pulled the girl’s gag out of her mouth. She exhaled in relief. “Looks like she’s back to normal now.”

“There you go,” said George and turned to the mother still frozen in shock. “Happy birthday, Commoncunt. Now go embrace your little tyke. You have five minutes before we start raping you two. We’ll have so much fun together.”


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Special issue:

Conception​


Edith cleared her throat quietly. Astrid raised her eyes in confusion to see what her sister-wife meant by the subtle signal. The woman lightly tapped her foot with hers. The young bride realized in horror that she was standing a few centimeters ahead of her pregnant senior. She looked down in shame and swiftly took a step back.

Luckily, their husband didn’t notice her gross mistake. He was standing two steps in front of them with his back turned, lost in a deep conversation with Elder Hansen about this week’s sermon.

The men talked for a few more minutes about a number of topics beyond the women’s comprehension, but they eventually turned to the young redhead waiting quietly on shaky legs.

“So, how is your young bride doing, Jeffrey?” asked the elder with a fatherly smile. “Making her mothers proud?” He waved to the two women on their knees at the other side of the sermon hall. Astrid almost turned to look at her father’s current sister wives Marta and Sofia, but Edith preemptively tapped on her feet once again.

“Definitely,” replied the middle-aged man. “She is obedient, respectful, and well-mannered. My Good Edith tells me that she’s always meek and helpful when I’m not present.”

“Wonderful,” said Elder Hansen and stroke the young girl’s chin affectionately with the tip of his ceremonial riding crop. She shivered at the touch of the rough leather. Her timid reaction amused the men.

“What a beautiful Passing of the Chalice ceremony it was,” continued the old man. “Ah! That reminds me, Jeffrey. I have good news. You’ll be pleased to learn that good sister Gertrud arrived at the monastery yesterday safe and sound. Mother Hanna told me that she was inconsolable for an entire day. Of course, it must be very hard, leaving the home she managed and the husband she served dutifully for more than two decades… And her sister wife Edith too.”

Edith nodded respectfully without taking her eyes off the floor. Her heart was broken too. She couldn’t help but shiver at the thought. In less than eleven years, she was going to turn 40 and join Good Gertrud in the convent she was sent to live out her days.

“Renewal ceremonies are both happy and sad occasions,” the elder continued, tapping the senior wife on her trembling lips gently with the riding crop. “But that’s how it's supposed to be. It’s God’s beautiful plan for us. The sacred cycle that keeps our society righteous and pure. One good woman leaves her home and begins a new life of quiet contemplation in the mountains, one more step closer to the Almighty… and a fertile young woman approaches the divine by joining her husband in their marital bed.”

“That is actually what I wanted to talk about, Good Elder,” said Konstig. “As the scriptures command, I allowed Good Astrid three days to get used to her new home. In the meantime Good Edith had done a wonderful job in instructing her in her oral duties. I’m proud to inform you that she learned to perform those tasks in a satisfactory manner. I’m sure she’ll get even better in time. Now, I believe it’s time to finally consecrate her womanhood. I intend to break her maidenhood tonight, if I have your blessing.”

“How wonderful!” the elder threw his hands in the air. “Of course, you have my blessing.” He turned to one of his own wives waiting in the corner. “Clara, bring us the ligamena.”

The woman nodded and turned, walked over to the ornate cabinet directly behind the pulpit, and returned with a wooden box full of embroidered purple ribbons.

Astrid held her breath and froze at the sight of the sacred stripes. She had seen them placed on women before, of course, but she never seen one up close. Thankfully, wife-sister Edith had already informed her about them, so she wouldn’t make any mistakes like touching the cloth, or speaking. Ligamen symbolized God’s touch. Women weren't allowed to handle it with the intention to move it, aimlessly fiddle with it, let it fall on the ground, or spill anything on it.

They were not supposed to utter a word when it was placed on them. It was a divine restraint.

“May you be forever dutiful, useful, and grateful,” the Elder said and picked three of them out of the box. He rolled them out and gently placed it around the young bride’s neck. The girl shuddered when the cloth touched her shoulders. She felt an otherworldly weight pushing her down. Her legs buckled. Her heart started throbbing, her respiration quickened, and her vision got blurry. God’s embrace was overwhelming. Or perhaps… she was having a panic attack?

Oblivious to the young girl’s condition, the two men continued to chat for a couple more minutes. Astrid was no longer able to follow the conversation. Unable to focus, she broke out in cold sweat and started hyperventilating. Thankfully, Edith realized that the girl was about to faint just in time and caught her when their husband gave the order to go.

She managed to cool down on the way home thanks to Edith’s motherly embrace. Her husband either failed to notice her less than proper behavior, or simply chose to ignore it. Either way, she was grateful.

At home, once her husband removed the sacred ribbons and released her from the God’s touch, she was fully prepared to serve him with her mouth alongside Good Edith. She knelt by the threshold as instructed and waited for the command to approach, but he did not call on her this time. She patiently waited with her eyes fixed on the floor as Edith pleased his manhood on her own.

Was she being punished because of her improper reaction earlier?

She wasn’t. Edith explained to her that the bride had to remain pure until it was time to relinquish her virginity to her husband. She gave her a long thorough bath, shaved her womanhood fully, and covered her in oils and perfumes. She wasn’t given anything to cover herself with.

Like Gertrud had done for her 11 years ago, Edith took Astrid by the hand and led her to the bedroom where their husband was waiting for them. She lay her down on her back, told the young bride to close her eyes, and stepped aside. Astrid held her breath and waited as her husband placed the three ligamena on her body. He placed the first one on her belly, and the second one on her wrists and neck, rendering her defenseless. The final ribbon was placed over her eyes to keep them closed.

She waited. Her excitement rose with every passing second. Nothing happened for a while, but then she felt a sudden touch on her belly. She recognized Edith’s slender fingers. Her sister-wife gently reached down, found her untouched slit, and started to rub her shame button. Women were not allowed to touch it in private, of course. Not without divine purpose, not without male supervision. The scripture forbade it.

Her unspoiled womanhood now fully belonged to her husband, and Good Edith was following his commands. She was readying her womanhood to swell to receive its rightful owner.


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As her sister-wife's fingers tenderly played with her shame button, she noticed the quiet slurps and moans too. Of course, while Edith was preparing her womanhood with her fingers, she was also preparing his manhood with her lips. What a wonderful woman she was.

Soon the slurps stopped, and then the fingers half a second later. Astrid held her breath again. She felt her husband’s weight on the bed. First one leg, then the other. He palmed her knees and pulled them apart, then grabbed her butt and lifted it. Astrid bit her lower lip in fear. She was told that it would hurt a lot, surrendering her maidenhood. It was supposed to be a violent and painful moment. A sacrifice every woman had to make to show their devotion to their husbands and God Almighty. Women were not supposed to enjoy the act itself, only derive satisfaction from service and devotion. Pleasing the husband was the sole purpose of the wife.

Suddenly she felt Edith’s fingers on her womanhood again. This time, she used them to part her lips and spread her juices around the entrance. Then she felt another touch. A bigger, bulbous object this time. Guided by Edith’s other hand, her husband’s big member pressed against her tight entrance for a second, then penetrated her with a sudden push.

Astrid felt her body split apart with the violent move. The giant thing tore through her surprised muscles, destroyed her defenseless hymen and hit her cervix like a hammer. Waves of pain hit her. Her brain caught on fire. A pained scream escaped her mouth. Ashamed, she immediately bit her lips to stop herself from disrespecting the Ligamen further.

He paused for a second after the initial strike, then started to push his manhood in and out of his 18-year-old bride with an ever-increasing tempo. Astrid tried her best to remain quiet and modest as he continued to pound her young pussy mercilessly, but the pain was too much for her to handle.

Once again, Edith was there to help. The 29 year-old soon-to-be mother knew exactly what to do, as always. She put her mouth on Astrid’s trembling lips and kissed her passionately, taking the young girl’s mind off the radiating pain between her legs, and sucking her pained groans in like an angel.

Her husband continued to smash her young body for a long while. She didn’t know exactly how long she was supposed to take his godly erection. Then, a sudden change in his rhythm… She didn’t understand what happened at first. She felt a strange wetness in her, lubricating her service hole and allowing his hardness slide in and out with greater ease. Only when he pulled out she realized that she was filled with his blessed seed. Edith quickly plugged her sore hole with a dildo to seal her husband’s semen deep inside her, then proceeded to lick his member clean.

Astrid lay there for a long while, trying to catch her breath. Even though her womanhood took most of the impact, her entire body hurt. Yes, she was drained and sore, but she felt serene and peaceful. She had done her duty. She was finally a woman.

What a hurricane of a month it was. Only ten days after she turned 18, a neighbor visited their vinyard and asked her hand in marriage from her father. The men bargained for a week and eventually agreed, so she was sent to the temple’s chastity house to wait for her wedding day. It was a wedding ceremony for her, but only a routine wife-swap for her husband. She was stripped down in front of the entire congregation and waited on her knees as the two wives of her future husband retrieved his seed, which was then collected in a chalice for her to imbibe. The moment she swallowed the liquid, she became his new vessel, and good sister Gertrude was relieved of her wifely duties. And now, three full days later, she was lying on his bed with her womb full of his seed, ready to bear his offspring.

Her thoughts quickly dispersed when she felt the man’s weight on the bed again. This time Konstig removed the Ligamena that kept her in place one by one and placed them in a box. After that she was ordered to open her eyes.

“Well done, Astrid,” he smiled and handed the box to Edith for her to put away until her next breeding session. “If god blesses us for your devoted service tonight, we will call that gift Elias.”

“Thank you good husband,” she exhaled with a tired smile. She paused for a long moment, then gathered her courage to ask a question. “But… what if… it’s a girl?”

“A girl?” He pursed his lips and clicked his tongue. “In that case, you may name her. Do you have a name in mind?”

“Yes good husband,” she whimpered shyly. “Agata.”
 

The Operation - 46​


“Get up, you worthless bugs! Time to hit the showers!”

The tough looking woman in green fatigues walked along the narrow aisle, kicking the drowsy inmates off their bunks. Thirty-two girls stood up, swiftly got out of their underwear, and lined up single file.

She reached at the end of the hallway-turned-dormitory and stepped aside with crossed arms to let the girls rush out towards the communal shower area.

“You two! You stay.”

The last two girls stopped on their tracks and stood to attention.

“Captain Sarkhod tells me you progressed far enough to get out of this fucking shithole. Sarky is a soft-hearted old fool, and I still have my doubts about you fucking traitors. Do you really want to move upstairs?

“Yes Captain,” replied the two in unison.

Captain Ziyou clicked her tongue in mild disgust. “We’ll see about that. Follow me.” She turned and walked out, and the two naked young women followed in soldierly pace. After crossing a long serpentine path dug deep into the mountain, they finally arrived at a heavy iron gate guarded by several armed women.

“Open up,” ordered Ziyou. “Sarky was informed about the transfer.” The biggest one of the guards reluctantly stood up and unlocked the door with a sour face, while the others stared down the two girls with fire in their eyes.

Ziyou waited patiently until the gate was fully opened and walked out with the naked prisoners in tow. They started to climb the stairs for the first time since they were brought in. The air got cooler and fresher with every step. The upper level didn’t have a radically different design, but the lighting was warmer and more welcoming than the hot fluorescent hell they have been living in for the past few months.

They were taken to a larger room with a metal desk and chairs nailed down around it. It was not that different from a BFA interrogation/rape room.

The captain sat down and pulled the pile of files in front of her, shuffled through various documents, eventually dropped them on the desk and leaned back with a tablet in hand. The girls remained standing in front of the desk.

“Traitor-trash Jizzcup,” she exhaled after opening the purple-haired girl’s file on her screen. “No retreivals? What are you, an abysmally incompetent moron? S-grade my ass! How could you slip through that screening process, I wonder.”

“This cun-… I was fresh out of the academy, Ma’am,” the purple-haired girl stammered. “I thought… it was a good thing that I never c-”

“You’re just lucky we got you before you could harm a sister,” interrupted Ziyou. “I’m afraid I cannot say the same thing about your bunkmate traitor-trash Honeycunt. What was your count, stupid bitch?”

“Three runners, ma’am,” replied the brunette, trying her best to keep her voice from shaking.

“Three runners,” the Captain repeated judgmentally, and looked down at her tablet. “Says here you retrieved two slaves and one runaway bride. All tranqed from long distance. Such bravery! What a ferocious warrior you are!”

“I... I was only following ord-”

“Shut up.” Ziyou opened her mouth to scold the girl further, but she was preempted by a knock on the door. It was Captain Sarkhod, commander of the internment level. She was a skinny, smallish woman in her mid sixties, all rare qualities that would make a her stick out like a sore thumb in the post-revolutionary era. The infamous Female Standards Office has effectively weeded out her “type” all around Pussiana long ago.

“Glad you could join us, Sarky,” greeted Ziyou. They saluted each other nonchalantly. Sarkhod sat on the table after throwing a quick glance at the two naked captives.

“I was just going over their records. What miserable incompetent pieces of shit! Are you certain that they could be of useful?”

“So you’re going to be the bad cop, again?” snickered Sarkhod. “Fine by me. And yes, you know my opinion about these lost souls.” She started to circle around the girls who were standing in attention. “Look at them. Tall, athletic, strong…plus they came to us well-trained and somewhat battle-hardened. Much better than the clumsy village girls we usually get.”

“Yeah, well-trained mindless fucktoys,” dismissed Ziyou. “I’m sure they both are exceptional cocksuckers.”

Sarky stopped in front of the purple-haired girl and flicked her left nipple with his fingers. “Is that true, Jizzcup?” she asked. “You suck cock well?”


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“Um… Yes ma’am,” the girl responded after a second of hesitation. “But… Please… Would you please call me Monique? I’m no long-”

“Shut the fuck up!” interjected Captain Ziyou. “You want your baby name back, eh? You have to earn it first, traitor-trash. Until the day you win some points for the good guys, you’re stuck with your servonym.”

“Yes ma’am!” Jizzcup replied. “I cannot wait to prove myself and my commitment to the cause, ma’am.”

“Commitment to the cause?” repeated the woman sarcastically. “Now she’s committed to the cause, fucking bluepuss!”

“Don’t be so hard on our Jizzcup,” interjected Sarky. “I for one believe that she had a genuine change of heart. We had long talks with Jizzcup and Honeycunt. They have been reading everything they could get their hands on. I assure you, they don’t just read, they understand, and they believe. I think they are ready to try and claim their names back.”

“That remains to be seen. I don’t know how could you manage to convince the Femrevcom with this bullshit reeducation program of yours. If it was up to me, none of these traitors would have left the Hive alive. I still can’t believe Tigress chose to drag these snakes back here.”

“I have to admit, Tigress’s decision surprised me too, but even that insane freak of nature understands that we're outnumbered,” replied the stocky captain. “We need every able bodied woman to achieve victory. She and her wildcats managed to revitalize the movement with a few lucky breaks, but we don’t have the resources necessary to keep this offensive up. Those Andros will shake it off and hit us back hard soon.”

“Lucky breaks? You call hitting the Hive in Maidenfair a lucky break? We eliminated hundreds of fascists, saved hundreds of our comrades, captured dozens of bluepuss, burned their fucking headquarters down… All that in one fell swoop! That woman you call a mad freak is a true legend. Do you know how many girls joined the cause after the attack? Almost two thousand.”

“I bet these two would be more useful to us than your couple thousand bimbos,” dismissed Sarky. “At least for a few months… that is if we can manage to make decent fighters out of those peasants.”

“Well,” shrugged Ziyou and turned to Jizzcup and Honeycunt. “That’s why I came down here. We might have something for your star pupils. Something dangerous.” She stood up and walked over the the girls. “Does the name Emma Seymour ring any bells, traitor-trash Honeycunt?”

Tammy turned to the captain with widened eyes at the mention of the name.

“Yes Captain,” she replied, trying to hide her surprise.

“I went over the body-cam footage. You were in the same room with her when you were captured.”

“So I’m told, ma’am,” replied Tammy. “I didn’t know her then. I later read all about her exploits at the library. A true hero of the movement, ma’am. I’m glad that she was rescued before they ragdolled her. Makes me ashamed that I was a part of the machine of oppression that almost turned her into one of those poor zombies.” She swallowed. “I would be honored if I was allowed to apologize to her personally. If I could meet her and-”

“Save it, trash,” interrupted Ziyou. “Unfortunately, Captain Seymour and a number of her teammates are currently missing in action.”

“Missing in action? I didn’t know Seymour was back in active duty?” asked Sarky this time. “How could they send her out there so soon? That woman had been rotting in a SEFR dungeon for years, for fuckssake!”

“I don’t disagree. I think the committee fucked up big time with that decision,” shrugged Ziyou. “They tell me that it was supposed to be simple escort mission to ease her in. They sent her to the Fritz to make contact with some foreign agents. Then they lost contact with her team.”

“Foreign agents? Was it a betrayal? A section Eight trap, perhaps?”

“No. Femrevcom thinks that they were captured at the port. We recently learned that one of the girls, Persephone, is being held by a slaver gang active in the region. We have reason to believe that they have Seymour too.”

She turned to the two girls. “I’m tasked with gathering a rescue team as quickly as possible, and I'm two women short.”
 
(New series - First double-sized chapter is available to all tiers.)
---------------------


“Yo, ma’ nerds!”

“Hey Daph!”

River and Willow closed the books they were reading and turned to the tall girl gracefully climbing up the slope. River couldn’t help but beam with a full set of teeth when the blonde’s piercing blue eyes met hers. Daphne Laurel was arguably the most beautiful girl in school, nay the known universe, and she could melt steel with her signature smile and impossibly jovial attitude.

“I knew you'd be here, hiding behind our favorite tree. So, wha-cha readin’?”

“We’re reading what you’re supposed to be reading, idiot!” replied Willow, waving the thick textbook with countless post-its sticking out of it. “Applied female anatomy. The exam is tomorrow, remember?”

“Applied female anatomy!” exclaimed Daph and snatched the book from the redhead’s hand. “What would we do without the pearls of wisdom in this scholarly tome? Surely, a well-informed rape victim is a better rape victim.”

“Shut up!” Willow sat up straight and brushed her reddish-auburn hair behind her ears. She was the undisputed “smart one” of the group, and she fit the clichéd archetype with cartoonish accuracy with her oversized round glasses, cutesy bangs that covered her entire forehead, and an annoying know-it-all attitude. “It’s not the time to make silly jokes about it. This is serious business. Life and death, one could say.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” dismissed Daphne. “What do you think, River? I guess you agree with the little doomsayer, since you followed her here to study the dark arts.”

“I think you should listen to her, Daph,” smiled the short-haired brunette. “Yes, 'life-and-death' may be an exaggeration, but only barely. Remember what happened last year with the… um… that Duponte girl. What was her name?”

“Wendy? No, Gwen. Gwendoline Duponte.”

“Right. She was caught cheating in this very same exam. Mr Moore was the vice principal then. He dragged her and another girl to the teachers’ lounge and they raped them all day. All fucking day, Daph!”

“Faceraped,” corrected Willow, “not raped-raped.”

“Whatever, man! Just imagine. Could be you this year. All those fat ugly assholes, forcing their hideous dicks in your mouth one after another, ejaculating all over your face.” River paused for a moment and squeezed her thighs unconsciously. The image of a cum-covered Daphne sucking multiple cocks was too titillating for her. “We… we can’t let it happen to us. Why take the risk?”

“Fiiiine, I was gonna study tonight anyway.” shrugged the blonde. “I’m not a moron, you know.” She raised her hand and pointed to the ageing school building in the distance. “But that facerape story reminds me. Don’t go near the restrooms on the second floor today. Actually, better avoid the entire East wing. A little bird told me that a few of the boys will ambush whomever goes in there during lunch break.”

“You mean your asshole brother and his fucking friends will barge into the girls’ bathrooms and facerape whomever they find, don’t you?”

“Yeah. I overheard him talking to the Harris boy last night. Listen to this. They now call themselves “The Jawbreakers” or something like that. Fucking cringy losers!”

“We should warn the girls,” said River. “Post a warning sign in there, perhaps?”

“Please,” dismissed Wil, “if they cannot fine anyone in there, they will simply expand their ‘hunting area.’ They’ll be totally unpredictable. We could end up on the menu ourselves.”

“What are you trying to say?” asked River nervously. She knew Willow well enough to sense she was about to say something morally questionable.

“I suggest we keep quiet and let them do their thing,” said the redhead. “So what if they catch a few unsuspecting sluts and satisfy their urges? We’d be safe, in the farthest corner of the school grounds.”

“You heartless bitch!” exclaimed River and sat back on her heels. She felt bad, but not enough to offer a counter-argument.

“She’s right, you know,” sad Daphne, drawing surprised looks from her two best friends. “This is a woman-eat-woman world, Rivvy. Some of us have to end up as victims so others could survive this hell. I mean, I’m safe either way. I’m sure Derek wouldn’t let his friends rape his own sister.”

“Don’t be so sure,” said Willow. “Wait…. Does he ever…”

“No, don’t be silly,” dismissed the blonde. “My father would kill him if he tried anything like that. The old goat is probably planning to auction off all three of my virginities one by one before he eventually sells my cute butt to the highest bidder.”

“Dear lord! Are you still claiming to be a triple-virgin?” asked River incredulously. “Do you expect us to believe that nobody ever violated that angelic face?”

“You have the most fuckable lips too,” agreed Willow. “I mean, if I had a penis…”

“I don’t know what to say,” shrugged Daphne with a chuckle. “I guess I’m not as big a slut as you shameless whores.”

“Fuck you, bitch!” River smacked Daphne on the butt with the book she was holding. “It’s not like I volunteered to be dragged into the woods and throated brutally.”

“Yeah, but three times? I mean, you’d think a good girl would change her path after the second time she was ambushed by the neighborhood rapist.”

Not able to come up with a good comeback, River play-hit the blonde once again. Daphne giggled and stuck out her butt invitingly for another smack, which immediately made the brunette completely forget what she was mad about.

“Miss Brooke, Miss Woods, Miss Laurel!”

The girls stopped giggling and jumped to their feet upon hearing their names in a stern male voice. Their history teacher Mr Kraus was standing several meters away, looking at them.

“Yes Sir, Mr Kraus?” smiled Daphne using her soothing dulcet voice. It was her most powerful weapon. “We aren’t late, are we? We were about to head to the class. We can’t wait to hear all about the Glorious Revolution.”

“No class for you today,” waved the man. “Mr Moore wants to see you three in his office.”

“The Principal? But… What about…”

“Don’t know, don't care. But I’d hurry if I were you. You won’t get away with a mild spanking if you dawdle like you always do.”

“Yes Sir, Mr Kraus,” replied the girls in unison, now with beads of cold sweat running down their temples. Mr Moore was a true tyrant and a monster, and the mere mention of his name was enough to turn the bravest girl pale with fear.

They gathered their things and rushed towards the school in silence. None knew why they were summoned by that repulsive demon, but each had a thousand nightmare scenarios ricocheting around their heads.

They quickly placed their stuff in their lockers and proceeded to the Principal’s office. His sexretary Ms Hoss waved them over and opened the door for the blonde to enter.

Daphne put on a nervous smile and walked in reluctantly. River attempted to follow her, but the sexretary closed the door before she could take a step. “You two have to wait until the Principal is done with Miss Laurel,” said the middle-aged bareneck, and pointed to the chairs across the hall. “Take a seat over there, and be quiet.”

The girls nervously nodded and sat down. Neither was brave enough to talk. They tried to hear what was happening. All they could hear where they sat was some muffled murmurs.

“I’m pretty sure they are just talking,” whispered Willow. “I mean, I don’t hear any screams… or moaning…”

“He wouldn’t just… do students, would he? I mean, not without any reason…”

“I don’t think so,” answered Wil. “But you know Mr Moore. He keeps introducing new rules… It always gets worse and worse. Who knows what new hell he unleash-”

She swallowed the end of her sentence when the door opened suddenly. The girls leaned to the side to see what was happening, but they couldn’t see anything. Daphne didn’t come out.

“Miss Woods? Your turn,” announced the sexretary. Willow swallowed and turned to River with fear in her eyes, then stood up in extra slow motion. She dragged her feet across the hall and disappeared into the office. Hoss closed the door and returned to her desk.

River waited at the edge of her seat. She could still hear the unintelligible voices, but it was impossible for her to understand what was happening. She could hear at least two different men asking questions and making jokes, and Wil giving short answers in an extremely nervous voice. Was she crying or something?

Unable to calm herself down, she stood up and started to walk to and fro. It didn’t work. Why was Willow taking this long? It felt like time has stopped. She realized that she could no longer hear the muffled dialogue.

“Are they… Did we do something wrong? If we broke any rules, I swear to god w-”

“You didn’t break any rules, Miss Brooke,” said the woman with an indifferent expression. “As far as we know, of course. No, you weren’t summoned here to be punished for any wrongdoing.” She pointed to the waiting area once more. “Sit!”

She did as told and waited. An eternity later, the door opened again. Hoss motioned her over. “Miss Brooke!”

She stood up and walked, her feet getting heavier and heavier with each step. When she reached the door, she had a ringing in her ear. She was too scared to raise her eyes.

“Come in, River,” said Moore, leaning back on his desk with crossed arms. “Don’t be shy now.”

She finally mustered the courage to look up and attempted a smile, at which point she was struck by an unexpected scene.

She saw them in her peripheral vision first and turned to her left, her mind unable to comprehend what her eyes captured for a few seconds. Fully nude silhouettes of Daphne, Willow and another girl quietly sobbing on their knees, their hands cuffed at their backs, their faces covered in a viscous white substance… She recognized Hazel Brown from the volleyball team kneeling between her two best friends. A man in a black suit was sitting on the couch behind the girls, and another one was standing right behind the brunette with hands in pockets.

She opened her mouth in shock but couldn’t produce any sound. Her entire body froze in panic.

It was happening! It was the nightmare all utilization-age girls in the country shared!

“This is Miss River Brooke,” introduced Moore, casually glancing at the sheet of paper on his desk. “Another one of our track athletes. Says here she's a very good runner and jumper, degrees and medals and so forth. Just the type of girl you are looking for. Good grades too, but I think that’s a secondary concern, right?”

“We prefer smart ones,” the man standing next to her said, tapped on Willow’s head, and started to slowly walk around River. “They need to learn a lot. It’s a very complicated job.” The man on the couch chuckled at his remark.

“Okay, let’s see it then,” he said and stared into the panicking girl’s eyes.

River looked back, confusion and terror in her teary eyes. “I’m… sorry Sir… I…”

“Your clothes,” the man clarified calmly and pointed to the pile of clothes neatly stacked at the corner. “Take them off, fold them properly, and place them over there. Then return to this spot, get down on your knees and wait for further commands.”

His strangely ominous calm tone compounded the brunette’s fear. She was almost certain that they were government agents. Everything about them screamed BFA.

The BFA? No-no-no-no-no-no! It couldn't be happening! Not to her and her friends!

Her terror-induced hesitation ended when a hard slap exploded on her face. She apologized and started to unbutton her shirt hastily. She was fully naked in less then 10 seconds. She clumsily folded her shirt, jeans and underwear and placed them on top of Willow’s pink sundress, then rushed back to her spot. Was she ever be allowed to put them back on?

For the first time in her life, she was standing fully naked in front of men.

Another slap landed on her left cheek. It took her a couple of seconds to realize that she failed to get down on her knees. She apologized again and knelt down, now sobbing uncontrollably. The man walked around and crouched down behind her.

“Put your hands together behind your back.”

She obeyed immediately this time. The man took out one of those plastic cuff thingies and tied her wrists together. The unforgiving hard plastic bit into her flesh. She instinctively tried to release the pressure by moving her hands, but all she got in return was more pain.

“I’ll do this one,” the other man said and stood up. “You did the redhead.”

“Fine, go for it.”

The two agents switched places.

“Open your mouth!”

Her mind overwhelmed with fear, she obeyed almost instantaneously. He unzipped his pants, took out his semi-erect cock and placed it in her mouth.

“Suck!”

Once again, she complied without hesitation. It was only the fourth time she had a penis in her mouth, but this agent was certainly bigger than the neighborhood bully who faceraped her before. She had no choice but open wider and put her trust in her innate womanly instincts to satisfy the superior gender. That was what her mother always said. “We are born to do this. When push comes to shove, you’ll know how to serve a man properly. It will come to you, like magic.”

River wasn’t a complete beginner, of course. Like all girls her age, she secretly practiced with whatever phallic object she could found around the house. The first time she performed this naughty act, it was mainly out of curiosity. But lately, she was starting to feel a strange tingle in her private parts while she did it. Of course, she never actually imagined herself in such an insane situation.

It quickly became clear that the man wasn’t interested her ability to serve orally anyway. After a few seconds, he took full control and started to fuck her ill-prepared throat like a passive orifice. She did her best to stay still with her mouth wide-open and provide enough resistance to enhance his pleasure. He lasted a lot longer than her bully. After all, he was a seasoned middle-aged man, not a pimpled horny teenager. Also, she was the second girl in the room he was throating, and River knew that his member would be less sensitive because of that.

Soon he pulled out of her without warning and continued to stroke his dick with his right hand, while River struggled to catch her breath. He started to ejaculate the moment she opened her eyes. The stuff hit her right on the tip of her button nose. She flinched and attempted to turn her head, but the man immediately grabbed her by the hair and pushed her back down. More jizz landed on her left cheek and then on her forehead. It was clear that he was trying to cover as much of her face as possible, but he soon ran out of material. He took a step back to admire his sloppy artwork, then put his cock away and tapped her on the head roughly. It wasn’t clear what the tap meant.

“Satisfied?” asked Moore after a brief pause. “What’s the verdict?”

“This is just a formality, Mr Principal,” chuckled the man. “The decision had been made even before we left the bureau.”

“Just a formality, eh?” Moore stood up and walked back to his chair. “So, which one will you take?”

“All four of them,” said the man without taking off his eyes from River’s cum-covered blushing visage.

“All four? Wait a minute… I’m no expert, but I’m pretty sure these sluts are not all S-grades.”

“No,” the one on the couch responded this time. “Only the blonde is a proper S. The rest are upper A-grades, but they’ll have to do.”

“You see, we have a monthly enlistment quota, and we are three cunts short,” the other agent added and crouched down in front of River. He reached for her quivering chin and lifted her head to look into her teary eyes.

“Hear that, sweetie? Smile. You’ll become a slavecop!”

Slavecop Academy: Enlisted!​



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Slavecop Academy -2: The New Batch​


River sat up and took a deep breath in order to stop herself from crying. She was out of tears after weeping for an hour straight anyway, but her body was refusing to acknowledge that fact. Her three hapless schoolmates were quietly sobbing next to her, and so were most of the girls in the transporter.

By her quick count, 17 girls were crammed into the storage compartment of the middle-sized transport Cunthound.

It was the first time she was on an aerial vehicle. It was a rare thing nowadays, with the new laws and regulations greatly restricting air traffic. Only state operatives and very rich or connected people could own and use flying vehicles. Of course, her blue-collar family didn’t fall in any of those categories. She had never seen something like this up close, let alone find herself in it.

Not that she wanted to. The mere sound of a distant Cunthound engine would be enough to strike the fear of death in a woman’s heart. It was, quite literally, a deadly bird-of-prey.

And it has had its fill for the day. 17 terrified girls, all freshly raped before being shoved in the cunt box. That was the name her captors used when they threw them in through the hatch. “The cunt box!”

River knew well that she was technically not a “cunt” in the legal sense yet. That was an official designation for enslaved women. The type of prey these men are accustomed to hunting down and returning to their owners in chains.

In spite of the overwhelming statistical evidence proving the contrary, she always hoped that she could somehow avoid that fate… remain free into her mid-twenties, perhaps even her thirties. If she could manage to do that, it would get even easier. Men would be less likely to pursue a female in her thirties, since younger, more attractive pussy was relatively cheap and plentiful.

A perfect plan, right? But what would she do with that freedom in a men’s world? The “Glorious Androcracy” was a wet dream for men, but an absolute nightmare for women. There would be no jobs for her to maintain her standing as a freewoman, and finding a loving husband would be a mere fantasy. She was more likely to come across a unicorn than a decent man. The only option would be becoming a whore. A cheap, desperate, past-her-prime, unwanted one.

Yes, her plan was overly optimistic… no, downright stupid, but none of that stuff mattered any more anyway. These were her last moments as an unowned “slut.” Soon some clerk at the BFA would slap a band around her trembling neck and make her officially a “cunt,” a property of the state. Then they would turn her into a fucking hound trained to hunt down her own kind… scared young virgins, escaped slaves, runaway brides, rebels…

Just like the lot in this fucking transport. Only, she’d be on the other side of the metal hatch, in a traitor’s uniform.

She raised her head to take a calmer look at her future “comrades.” Were they all prospective Slavecops like her? She had no idea. The slave transport was already half full when the four of them were thrown in, and it made several more stops after that, adding one or two terrified girls to the group every time. Not all of them looked exceptionally beautiful and athletic, like Daphne did. What did the man call her, an S-grade? But he also said they had to enlist “lower scum” like her, Willow, and Hazel because of some quota or whatever… Perhaps some of the others were just runaway slaves?

No, none carried bands. All were fully naked except for the two girls whose upper bodies were partially covered by torn clothing. In addition to the excess jizz slathered on their faces, they were particularly dirty too. Their legs and arms were covered in bruises, and one of them had a bloody nose. Possibly resisted at first, and subsequently beaten up during the rape, River assumed. She could see them being dragged towards the vehicle about half an hour ago. They were barely conscious then. Now they looked fine. A lot better than the rest of the girls, in fact. River realized at that moment that those two were the only ones in the group who weren’t shaking like mewling kittens. They were sitting up straight. Their eyes were teary, sure… But she could see the hint of a fiery defiant rage in them.

“What are you looking at, sheep!”

“Sorry… You’re talking to me?” River snapped out of her thoughts when the girl with the bloody nose caught her looking at her bruises.

“Yes you are. You are a sorry bunch of losers! All of you! Look at that stupid face. Covered in rape-juice, but not a single hair out of place. How obedient you must have been, when they ordered to suck their ugly dicks?”

“I… I was not… They s-slapped me… t-twice,” stammered River like a babbling moron, completely stunned by the unexpected attack.

“Oh, heavens! The horror!” exclaimed the girl sarcastically and turned to her friend. “Hear that, Kara? They slapped her. Twice!”

“She must have hesitated for half a second, poor sheep,” said her strawberry blonde pal with a strained voice. It was obvious that every word she managed to let out added to her agony.

“Leave her alone, you jerks!” interjected Willow, who was able to snap out of her sobbing fit thanks to the unexpected exchange between the hapless captives. “We are all victims here.” She turned to Daphne, who still appeared to be inconsolable. “My friend here, she had never even seen a penis up close before. Never had a cock in her mouth before today.”

The bloody-nosed girl sniffled and leaned back, then parted her legs to expose her heavily flogged vulva. “All victims, yeah. Some of us more than others, I guess.”

An uneasy silence fell upon the group once again.

“Does anyone have any idea where are they taking us?” asked one of the latest additions to the group with a trembling voice. Her scared eyes wandered around the others’ faces and eventually fixed on the bloody-nose-girl. For some reason she appeared to know more than the rest…

“I noticed that there are a lot of S-grades among you,” she started. “That blondie who-never-had-a-cock-in-her-mouth, for example. Or you two, by the hatch. My friend Kara and I were told we were S-grades too. This can mean only one thing. We are going to b-“

“They are taking us to the Slavecop Academy,” interrupted Willow. “That’s right, genius! There’s no need for guesswork. Those assholes, they told us when they confiscated us. We were appropriated to be slavecops. They already had the confiscation orders and ownership certificates ready, when they were faceraping us in a row. Our parents were already paid full price even before these fuckers met us, you see?” She paused when a hint of surprise appeared on the bruised girl’s face. “Why, they didn’t inform you?”

“We didn’t give them the chance to explain,” the girl sniffled defiantly. “We were at volleyball practice when our coach called us to his room. We just thought it was our turn to suck his cock. He has a rotation schedule for the girls for that, you know. But then we saw the Cunthound landing. Kara and I are known at school as… rotten eggs, you know? We figured they were coming for us… to punish some vandalism in the girls’ bathroom we may or may not have done… so we jumped out of the window and ran.” She leaned forward and looked Willow in the eye. “You see, we both are very good athletes… the best, actually. Turns out this fucking thing flies faster than we can run.” She leaned back again. “So they caught us and fucked us up… thoroughly. No explanation given.”

“You were threeholed?” exclaimed another girl in surprise, her eyes fixed at the telling leakage under the bloody-nose girl.

“Whatever,” the other sniffled. “Another Monday for me.”

“What do you mean?” asked River.

“Eh. My state-assigned foster family… Father and his two sons. They make me earn my measly breakfast and dinner every single day. Sometimes one-by-one, sometimes all-together.”

“Sorry…” River mumbled. She felt a bit guilty when the girl ended her sentence looking directly at her.

“I’m sorry too,” the other winked. “Four-eyes was right. I snapped at you for no reason. We are on the same boat, all of us.” she tapped River’s knee with her leg. “I’m Venus, this is Kara. East Harlett High.”

“And I’m River,” responded the brunette. “We were taken from E-Ville High, south side. Four-eyes is Willow, blonde virgin-face is Daphne, and next to her is Hazel… She’s a volleyball player like you guys.” She paused with a sudden realization. “Hey, we’re all athletes too, actually.”

A few other girls in the group also declared that they had similar backgrounds. Most of them played sports in high levels and a couple were dancers.

“Well, there you go,” pouted Venus. “This settles it, if there ever was any doubt. It seems we are the next generation of Slavecops, bitches. So, stop crying for yourselves and start crying for the poor saps whose lives we are going to ruin in a few months.”

“Perhaps… it’s not decided yet?” said the girl who asked the earlier question. “Maybe the selection process isn’t over yet… You know, maybe some of us will be… slavecops… and the others will be let go?”

“Pray that isn’t the case, A-grade,” said Venus. “You heard what four-eyes said. They already bought all of us. You’ll soon feel it on your neck too. We all belong to the state now. Wherever we’re going, I don’t think they’ll be picking slavecops and tossing the rest. But it that’s the case, you want to be picked. Because the only alternative to the Slavecop Academy is the state brothel system. You get me?”

“Oh god!” the girl exclaimed and started to cry again.

Venus made a disappointed face and turned away.

“You are an interesting head case,” commented Willow. “You appeared to be defiant and rebellious a few minutes ago, but now you’re kinda making the case for the Blue-and-Whites.” She clicked her tongue. “And I prefer if you drop this ‘four-eyes’ thing. Sounds very juvenile. Call me Wil.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” smirked the other. “Your name means shit now. It’s no longer yours, babe. You have nothing, not even a name. They will take a look at you and assign you a servonym in a few minutes. Believe me, it will sound a lot worse than ‘four-eyes.’ Something to constantly remind you that you’re a piece of fuckmeat.” She raised her brows indifferently. “And yes, people say that I’m a bit unpredictable at times, unstable even… Simple morons, those. No, I’m a survivor…a pragmatist. I’ll fight as long as I can, always have, but not if defeat is inevitable. I’m not going to keep crying over this… It’s a life-altering trauma for most of you, I understand, but for me, it’s simply a change of venue. If I’m a slave now, I’ll do my best to survive as a slave. If survival means ruining other girls’ lives… Well, I’ll do just that, begrudgingly or not, and maybe feel bad later, okay?”

Willow opened her mouth to respond, but the Cunthound made a sudden turn and swung the restrained girls around. In a few seconds the landing gear hit the ground and the vehicle came to a full stop. The girls held their breath and waited as the outer cockpit doors loudly opened and closed. The ringing in River’s ears returned as ominous footsteps approached the transport and and the hatch opened with a deafening clank.

Sunlight filled the cell and forced a surprised squeal from the group of terrified girls. When River opened her eyes again, the first thing she saw was a dark silhouette of a female in uniform.

“Welcome to Slavecop Academy, cunts!” she welcomed with a surprisingly soothing voice. “Come out and make a line. It’s the first day of the rest of your lives.”
 

Slavecop Academy -3: Nationalized​


“Single line, facing Rule!”

Her achy wrists still bound behind her back, River jumped out of the Cunthound and followed the rest of the girls trying to make a line. All looked awkward and confused as they filled the row of white circles behind the landing bay. For a brief moment, this miserable chain-gang reminded her of the family of intoxicated ducks they introduced in the recent reboot of the Bunnyhops. She shook her head to banish the image. How could her mind escape to such a silly place in this nightmarish situation!

She turned to see where her friends were. The bloody-nose girl and her friend, Venus and Kara, were walking right behind her, while Daphne and Willow straggling at the very back of the group. Dragging her feet, she stopped on a small white circle like the prisoners before her. She was familiar with the concept of “binding circles” of course. Their “exercise and discipline” teacher Miss Bollera told them all about those. She would occasionally draw chalk circles on the ground and put the girls in them. They were not supposed to leave the circles until they were given explicit permission. They often spent the entire E&D class within their circles.

River assumed these had a similar function, but it was impossible to perform the usual suspiciously sexual exercises in them. They were so small, even her two feet didn’t fit in them.

While looking around in confusion, she heard a whistling sound behind her. Before her brain had a chance to process it, a searing pain cut her right under her knees. She shrieked in surprise.

“Stay in your circles, you stupid cunts!” yelled the Slavecop who slashed her legs with her long riding crop. She got two more girls down the line as she walked and yelled more commands. A couple girls complained in tears that the circles were too small to stand in, but they too tasted the cane in quick response.

“Tiptoes, you morons!” the slavecop clarified with disgust in her voice. “You are supposed to be the best of the best, eh? S-grade my ass! Apparently you have the combined processing power of a shoebox.”

All quickly rose on their tiptoes. For some it took a few tries. After all, they were all bound and tired. The merciless cane continued to hit shins and butts until every single girl was in proper stance.

“Facing rule!” the woman in uniform repeated. River had no idea what that meant. The slavecop walked in front of the line and raised her cane, this time to point at the Cunthound hangar a couple hundred meters away. The words “Obedience and Service” were written in big bold letters on the largely corroded metal roof of the structure.

“These are the two most important words in the dictionary, cunts!” she continued in a calmer voice. “All women exist to obey and serve men, the superior gender, our benevolent masters, tireless protectors, and magnanimous providers. Unfortunately, not all our sisters get the chance to reach their full potential in the service of men. Many fail to satisfy and please their superiors efficiently. But we, the slavecops, we are not ordinary women… we are the embodiment of an ideal. The perfect woman with perfect obedience and perfect service! No hesitation, no fatigue, no sluggishness, no reluctance, no mistakes, and absolutely no backtalk! We serve the Androcracy with perfect devotion, which in turn devotes all its resources to perfect us. It is the perfect cycle.

Sniffles and sobs rose from the group, but the uniformed woman ignored them. “I’m Agent-slave Slapmeat, Level-9 Elite Cunt-tracker,” she continued after walking up and down the line with a stern face for a full minute. “I’ll be instructing you in hand-to-hand combat and impact weapons. You are at the Blue Guard Academy at Cunton. The first of its kind, and the best in existence. You’ll be spending the next three months here learning to obey and serve properly.”

She stopped right in front of Venus and examined her well-raped, heavily bruised body from tip to toe. Then she tapped on her nose with her finger. “You resisted arrest,” she said and tore off the remaining pieces of cloth stuck on the girl’s shoulders and waist.

“Not really,” replied the girl, trying to sound as confident as possible. “I tried to run, but the officers caught us and-”

The woman took a step back and slapped the girl hard across the face before she could finish her sentence. Venus stumbled back in surprise, but quickly returned to her spot and rose on her tiptoes. “That wasn’t a question. You are not allowed to talk unless you’re asked a question or given an explicit order to speak!” shouted A-S Slapmeat for the entire group to hear. “And make no mistake, cunts,” she continued softly, “I earned the privilege to speak to you scum using my personal pronoun. But you’ll use perfect cuntspeak when talking to me, to other instructors, and especially in the presence of our masters. Now, try again.”

“Um… this cunt…” the girl stammered, “this cunt tried to run… but the officers caught m- this cunt. She didn’t resist, but the officers chose to beat her up during the violation anyway.”

“That’s better.” This time Slapmeat tapped Venus’s reddened cheek almost affectionately, then proceeded to play with the girl’s big tits as if she was examining fruit at the grocery store. “You are a quick learner. A real looker too. Certainly well-endowed.”

She took a few steps back and raised her cane again. “Facing school!”

After a second of confusion, the group turned to the left to face the hideous 5-storey concrete behemoth rising in the distance.

“March!”

The group of teary-eyed scared girls was led to their new home escorted by A-S Slapmeat and four other lower-ranking slavecops. Heavy metal doors opened when they approached, swallowed them all, and closed shut with a loud clank that sounded like a death knell.

A blonde slavecop welcomed them under a big sign that read “Processing.” Was it finally time to be officially enslaved? Becoming a cunt… a restranium band around her neck… a humiliating servonym… All that meant a new life on her knees, turning into a whore of the system and a tool of oppression. Tears reemerged at the corners of River's reddened eyes.

Once again, they lined up on binding circles on their tiptoes, in front of a row of desks with computers and other electronic devices on them. A number of male officers were sitting behind the dusty clutter, chatting and joking indifferently. Their relaxed merriment posed a stark contrast to the funereal silence among the girls. When the last of the bound naked beauties arrived in the hall, the men’s rugged faces lit up with lust and anticipation. Realization hit Riv. They were about to get raped… again.

The slavecops who brought them in picked up handfuls of standard issue BFA bands out of a cardboard box, took them out of their packaging, and started to slap them around the trembling girls’ necks. The first few girls shrieked in surprise and panic once the magnetic nape clasps locked and the smart restranium bands automatically tightened to a snug grip. All burst into tears one after another as this simple object ended their old lives and turned them into slaves. For the fresh captives, it was the most traumatic experience of their lives, but merely a routine chore for the jaded slavecops.

River held her breath and closed her eyes when it was her turn to be banded. The tall blonde ripped another plastic packet and pulled a choker out of it. Hands reached behind her head and pressed a button on her nape. She felt the cold touch of the damned thing around her neck, it tightened a bit and stopped. She was hit by a strong urge to reach for it and pull it off. Of course she wouldn’t dare, even if her hands were free. She opened her teary eyes after a few seconds. She was now a slave.

“A superior will assign you a servonym based on your qualities later,” the blonde explained after the banding was completed. For now, you’ll respond to your academy registration numbers only.

River was now a string of digits. 9-9-8-7-2-1. She repeated her new designation to herself until she memorized it.

“I’m A-S Hornyharlot, headcunt of protocol,” the blonde introduced herself with a measured smile, “I welcome you all to the Most Auspicious Guard in Blue, dear sisters.” She walked to the head of the line and gestured to the group of male officers watching the proceedings with lewd grins. “Master-Agents are here to officially welcome you to our ranks and complete your enlistment process.” She put her hands on the shoulders of the first two girls. “You’ll be raped in pairs. 711 and 712, go and surrender your necks to Master-Agent Jackson. May you earn your names.”

A male officer stood up and approached the group. River gasped. One of the first victims was Hazel, her schoolmate. With unsure steps, the duo approached the man and bowed respectfully. Jackson callously grabbed them by the back of their necks, pushed their heads to his waist level, and dragged them towards the door that read “Raperoom 1.”

“Bend from the waist, keep your legs straight,” the blonde instructed the next pair. The victims were none other than Daphne and Willow. “713... 714... Master-Agent Hinkle will be handling your first violation. May you earn your names.” River held her breath as she watched the overweight officer with the ugliest bald spot pull her best friends to the next raperoom.

Two more officers got their share of fuckmeat. River had to team up with Venus. Having seen the scene repeated enough times, they properly bent down and surrendered control of their bodies when Master-Agent Yeoman grabbed their necks.

As they stumbled towards Raperoom 5, another wave of terror hit River’s trembling naked body. She was about to be made a woman by a complete stranger.
 

Slavecop Academy -4: Betrayal Room​


Once again, her mind betrayed River and conjured inappropriate images in the most inopportune moment. She saw weird shapes in the cracks on the floor as Agent Yeoman led her and Venus by their necks towards the room she’d soon be deflowered in. A birthday cake… a blooming flower… A comet…

Images of hope and celebration? How ironic! Her life as she knew it was about to come to an abrupt, violent end. In fact, it was long over already. Some time after she left home that morning, and before she was summoned to the principal’s office, a random clerk must have contacted her parents, notified them about her confiscation, transferred some money to their bank account, and nationalized her clueless butt. Her butt? No, now it belonged to the state.

His hands full of shivering fuckmeat, Yeoman kicked the door open and dragged them in. Once they were inside, he let them go and locked the door, then sat down on the only chair in the room. The two girls raised their heads back up timidly after a few seconds of confusion.

The room was a perfect square, about five meters wide. Its naked greenish-grey walls had some illegible graffiti on them. The only window on the back wall was too small and too high to provide enough natural light, so the awkwardly placed spotlight above the door dominated the room. A worn-out, dirty rape-horse stood at the dead center, its padding damaged in multiple places and lost most of its filling. Faux-leather restraining straps ending in rusty buckles dangled from its four corners.

River immediately knew what it was because she had seen a similar device in the window of the downtown QR showroom once. The horrible thing tormented her in her nightmares for weeks. Of course, this was a cheap, heavy-duty variant produced for state use, not a pricey piece of whoreniture one would rape his fancy date on.

The girls quickly noticed the several binding circles in front of the device and quickly tiptoed in them even before they were ordered to. Fear and pain were the best teachers, for sure.

The Agent leaned back and crossed his legs. He seemed to be pleased with the girls’ ability to adapt to their new surroundings as quickly as they did. “You’re athletes,” he noted after examining their naked forms from tip to toe. “You carry yourselves well.” He clicked on the screen of his wrist computer. “720. You’re a volleyball player.”

“Yes Sir,” said the girl quietly. She no longer sounded like the defiant rebel back in the transporter.

“721,” said the man this time, without looking up. “Slap 720 for speaking without permission.”

The girls’ eyes widened, and they looked at each other in confusion. Venus swallowed nervously. Of course, he didn’t ask a question. She had fallen for the same trick again… and so soon? How stupid she was!

She straightened up and embraced for the impact.

River hesitantly turned to her hapless partner, paying extra attention to keep her feet in her binding circle. Then took a deep breath and slapped Venus on her left cheek.

The agent looked up and clicked his tongue. “720, slap 721 for not slapping you hard enough,” he ordered this time.

River exhaled in frustration. She knew she should have done a better job. She raised her chin and-

The volleyball player’s well-trained palm landed on her left cheek like a vicious hammer before she could prepare. The damn bitch certainly did not hold back. The brunette lost her balance and stumbled to the side, both her feet leaving the circle. She received another hard slap for that violation immediately.

“That’s very good,” commented the man, amused. He turned to River again, whose left cheek hurt like it was on fire.

“Next time, remember that pain,” he said. She would, of course. At that very moment, she wanted Venus to fuck up so she could pay her back properly.

“You are a track athlete. A runner and jumper.” He paused for a moment. River suppressed her natural urge to say something. No, she wasn’t going to fall for that like a moron. “You’re in the drama club too. This will come handy in undercover missions.”

Undercover missions? She thought slavecops chased escaped slaves through the woods and sucked male agents’ cocks while they flew their aerocars. Were they going to play spy too?

“I’m a big fan of the performative arts myself,” the man continued. “What was your latest role?”

That was definitely a question this time. “This cunt,” she started very carefully, “played Ursula Lake in ‘All the Way Down’ and… one of the maidens in-”

“You played Ursula Lake, the last female mayor of Maidenfair?”

“Yes sir,” River answered after making sure the statement ended in a question mark.

“Impressive, 721. I’ve seen a state theatre production of that play. The actress was raped several times on stage. Once in her office, once in the centre of the council room, and twice while being dragged down the stairs of the city hall before being carried away by the crowd outside. I’m sure the high school version wasn’t that violent, was it?”

“No Sir,” she said timidly. “I was facefucked… this cunt… this cunt was fucked in the face only… in the rape scenes. Just three times.” She held her breath. Was she going to be punished for that brief lapse in cuntspeak?

“Very good,” the man said. “Perhaps you can perform that final begging scene for me, eh?”

“Y-yes Sir,” River stammered. She was still unable to understand if the agent was serious or sarcastic.

The man opened his arms and gestured to wards the floor. “If I remember correctly, Lake was on her knees as she delivered her final speech, right?”

“Yes Sir,” River answered. She exhaled and went down on her knees. “Her… of course… her hands would be tied in front…”

“Right. Father Marteau drags her down the stairs by that rope and throws her in front of the crowd. Then she raises on her knees and surrenders to the Revolution.” He paused for a moment. “Go!”

River cleared her throat and took a deep breath. “O mighty Marteau!” she started. “I surrender. There are no more steps. There is no more down. I lay here, at the bottom, at your blessed feet, the place I belong. Only now I realize that I am nothing. A mere woman, weak and incompetent, unable to understand the true nature of the world. Thanks to your mighty fist and blessed cock my eyes were opened to the truth. A worthless, useless-”

“Okay, you can stop,” waved the man. “I just remembered how bad the writing was. Of course, people enjoy this scene because of the long gangbang on the stairs. Nobody notices the juvenile platitudes at the end.” He gestured River to stand back up. She returned to her circle, unsure if she failed to impress the man or not. He didn’t seem disappointed in her.

“You girls wouldn’t know this, but that wasn’t actually what happened,” Agent Yeoman snickered. “It was nowhere near that dramatic. In fact a small group of Fister thugs kidnapped Ursula Lake on her way home. Nobody really knows what those animals had done to the woman after she was taken.” He pursed his lips. “And Marteau passed away long before all this happened anyway.”

The girls stared back in confusion. Was the history they were taught a total fabrication? Or perhaps the man was trying to trick them again… testing their loyalty?”

Yeoman’s stern face revealed no clues. “Looks like you both have some strengths we can use, cunts” he continued after a few awkward seconds. “But are you willing and able to take down another female if the need arises?” He looked at River directly. “Do you have what it takes to be a loyal servant of Androcracy?”

River opened her mouth but froze just like her heavily-bruised comrade.

“You probably noticed the we have only one rape-horse here,” he said, and pointed to the girls with both hands. “But we have two of you. Do you know what that means?”

The girls stared back with confused eyes.

“This here is what we call a ‘betrayal room,” the man continued. “And here’s why. I’ll give you a choice. If one of you manages to overpower the other and restrains her on the rape-horse, she will get off with a simple facefuck. Nothing harder than what you must be accustomed to.” He paused for effect. “The other will be properly threeholed and beaten.”

The girls looked at each other. Were they supposed to fight to win less pain and humiliation?

“You cannot both win, cumscripts. But you can both lose.” He leaned back and crossed his arms. “You have five minutes. Starting… now!”
 

Slavecop Academy -5: Reborn​


River didn’t have Daph’s dazzling beauty or Wil’s sharp analytical mind, but she had something almost as useful:

Good instincts.

She didn’t know anything about this strange new world she found herself in, but it wasn’t a completely hopeless situation. River has always been an avid gamer. She played all kinds of boardgames in her spare time, even created a few herself. She loved escape rooms, role playing, fantasy adventure activities... In short, she wasn’t a stranger to what she called “square one situations,” where she played a completely new game with new rules, with a strange board and unfamiliar players.

And this was, rapes and beatings aside, just another “square-one situation.” It was another new game. She had zero experience. She didn't know all the rules.

But she had good instincts.

She easily recognized the simple “prisoner’s dilemma” situation the Master-Agent put the two girls in. A non-violent solution wasn’t an option. She instantly knew what would happen, so she reacted even before she saw Venus’s muscles tightening to pounce on her in her peripheral vision. She ducked just in time to evade Venus’s devastating slap, and quickly rose back up to bury her shoulder in her momentarily stupified opponent’s vulnerable right flank. Venus screamed in pain and fell over, hit her head on the rape horse, and found herself on the floor. Still flabbergasted, she grabbed one of the restraining straps of the horse to pull herself up, but River quickly struck her on the left cheek before she could regain her balance.

This time she found herself bent over the horse face down. Her nose was bleeding again, and her already exhausted and bruised body was no longer listening to her brain’s commands. She couldn’t put up a serious resistance when River grabbed her from behind and restrained her limbs one by one on the rape horse with the faux-leather straps.

Once it was over, River stumbled back and stared at the girl she starfished on the rape horse with incredulous eyes. She remembered to breathe again after a few seconds. She was still shaking uncontrollably.

How could this happen? Venus was bigger and stronger than her. Perhaps she got lucky? After all, her opponent was heavily beaten and repeatedly violated even before she was thrown in the Cunthound.

“Don’t doubt yourself, cunt 721,” said Master-Agent Yeoman, noticing the surprise on River’s flushed face. He stood up to inspect the loser’s restraints. “You won fair and square. She is stronger, sure. But you have good reflexes.”

River felt the urge to say something but stopped herself. That was one of the clearest rules. No talking without permission.

“You’re still shaking like a leaf in the wind,” Yeoman said. “It’s the adrenaline pumping in your veins. If you’re feeling a bit elated too, don’t be surprised. It is perfectly normal, cunt 721. We call it the post-catch euphoria. Technically, this was your first takedown.”

His words gave River a pause. She certainly was feeling a lot of strange emotions. Was elation one of them? She wasn’t sure.

Having finished checking the straps, he stopped between the bound girl’s parted legs and faced River. He turned his left palm down and made an exaggerated downward motion. “Lesson one. This means get down on your knees. Open my zipper and take my cock out.”

River took a deep breath and did as she was told. With trembling fingers she unzipped his pants and pulled his semi-erect member out. Not sure about her next move, she waited awkwardly with the cock resting in her hand.

“When you receive a direct command, you’ll respond with a respectful ‘Yes master’ without hesitation,” he said with a surprisingly soft voice.

“Yes master,” responded River. Another clear rule, noted.

“You’re calmer now, aren’t you?”

River paused for a moment. He was right. She was no longer shaking. “Yes Master,” she replied.

“That’s right,” the man smiled. “Something magical about kneeling at the foot of a man. It calms you cunts. Surrendering yourself to a higher being, returning to your natural state, whatever reason you can think of… it just never fails.”

“Surprised, eh? Here you’ll learn a lot about yourself, cunt 721. We don’t just teach you girls new tricks in this Academy. No, together we will reveal your true nature. You suppressed it until this moment. Here, we'll set you free.”

He patted the girl on the head, almost affectionately. “Now, suck! Cannot rape this miserable loser properly with a soft dick, can I?”

“Yes Master,” responded River without hesitation and took the awakening organ in her mouth. She hated sucking cock, but she loved learning to play a new game.

As she licked and sucked the hardening rod, he started to play casually with Venus’s vulva. The poor captive whimpered in despair. “Looks like the damn dogcatchers beat the stuffing out of this beauty,” he said. “Violent assholes as they are, they wouldn’t do it unless the cunt deserved it.” He slapped Venus’s mound hard, sending waves of agony all over her battered body. “Did you deserve it, cunt 720?”

“Yes Master,” whimpered Venus in tears.

“But you learned your lesson, right? Will you be a good girl from now on?”

“Yes Master,” she exhaled. It was obvious to all that the strap around her neck was too tight, but the agent chose not to relax it.

The man looked down at River with a smile. “What about you, 721? Are you done?”

River pulled back and let his huge dick pop out of her mouth. “Yes Master,” she said after taking a deep breath. Yeoman had the biggest cock she ever had in her mouth.

“Well then. Check 720’s primary. Is she ready for me?”

River stared back in confusion. “Primary,” the man repeated. “Primary fuckhole…. The pussy, stupid! ”

“Yes Master,” River replied hastily and reached for Venus’s slit, to see if she was lubricated enough for the impending penetration. She cursed inside her head. Of course she knew what primary meant. They were studying ‘applied female anatomy’ moments before their enslavement, for cockssake!

Luckily, he didn’t punish her for the hesitation with a slap… but unfortunately, Venus was dry as a piece of sandpaper.

“She isn’t… ready, Master,” she stammered.

“No? Well then, go ahead.”

Once again, River didn’t know what to do. Agent Yeoman waited for a second with a smile, then grabbed her by the hair and buried her face in Venus’s blushing vulva. “Use your tongue, cunt 721,” he said with a soft tone. “I’ll keep your stupid head here for 20 seconds. She better be wet enough when I pull you away, or you’ll take her place on the horse.”

“Yeph mafter!” River replied as she sucked and licked the defeated girl’s well-raped babymaker. It was the first time she had ever tasted another girl’s pussy. It could only be described as an ‘explosion of flavor.’

After a hectic and extremely confusing 20 seconds, Yeoman pulled her head away and pushed his big fat thing into Venus’s tight opening without wasting another second. The organ disappeared in the now-slippery hole with ease. River exhaled in relief. He let her hair go and started to fuck her bound partner nonchalantly.

River took half a step back and sat on her heels. To her surprise, the 'magic of kneeling' at the foot of a man worked once again. She was instantly calm as a cucumber, as she watched the man violently ravage the girl she herself restrained on a horrible torture equipment.

Yeoman was done with Venus’s primary in a few minutes. River straightened up when the change in his tempo signaled an impending climax. Was he going to creampie his victim or pull out and ejaculate in River’s mouth? She didn’t know the rules specific to this situation yet.

He finished fucking the girl by slamming his dick deep inside her. He emptied his balls into her womb and pulled out very slowly. River watched the organ leave Venus’s tight hole inch by inch as if she was mesmerized, almost with anticipation. The thing popped out and swung from side to side, then dropped like a heavy hammer. Yeoman turned towards her after catching his breath.

“Clean it up.”

“Yes Master.” The words spilled out of her mouth even before her mind understood the order. It was automatic now.

She leaned forward and started to suck his cock again, which somehow felt even bigger after fucking Venus. He was satisfied with her efforts.

“Good girl,” he said. River felt a strange tingle. She almost smiled.

He took a step back and pointed at the bound girl’s crotch again. “Now the secondary,” he said. “Lubricate with your own saliva. You have 20 seconds.”

This time, the unpleasant nature of task gave River a longer pause, and her reluctance was punished with a series of hard slaps. Yeoman grabbed her by the hair once again and shoved her into Venus’s crack face-first. Her eyes tearing up, she spat and licked the entrance of the girl’s asshole as well as she could. Once again, her tongue was quickly replaced with the agent’s throbbing cock 20 seconds later. The poor victim’s sphincter put up a better fight than her other hole, but eventually surrendered to the ruthless invader.

The ass-pounding lasted longer. Once again, River watched on her knees as the man reamed the girl like a slab of meat, hypnotized by the repetitive, machine-like motion. This wasn’t a punitive, passionate, or particularly violent rape. He was fucking her like an unfeeling piston, indifferently. Perhaps he wasn’t a fan of the secondary cockslot? River made a mental note.

He creampied the girl again, and this time River had to clean both his cock and Venus’s butthole. She managed to do it quickly, without hesitation, in spite of the revulsion she felt. She screamed and cursed inside her head throughout the process, but she was able to hide her disgust well enough. She received no slaps.

Venus’s punitive threeholing concluded with a long facerape. Since a girl’s tertiary fuckhole was naturally self-lubricating, River’s preparatory services weren’t required this time. Yeoman visibly enjoyed this phase a lot more. It was certainly his favorite orifice to fuck. He finished in Venus’s mouth and ordered the girl to drain and clean it fully. After a few seconds, his big thing was hanging before River's face once again.

“Put it away.”

“Yes Master!” River put his cock back in his pants respectfully and closed his zipper, then sat back on her knees.

“Well done, cunt 721,” said the man and sat back down. He turned his palm up and raised his hand. River didn't need an explanation for the command this time. “Untie 720. Get back in your binding circles in 20 seconds.”

“Yes Master!” She jumped to her feet and released Venus, then helped her walk to her circle. She realized that she didn’t feel particularly bad for her. Everything that happened since they were brought in here seemed natural, exactly how it supposed to be. Was it this room? Was it the magical kneeling thing? Or perhaps her mind was trying to cope with this extremely traumatic transition, somehow. Human brain was a very strange thing.

Yeoman raised his hand and made a finger pistol this time. He pointed at Venus and paused for a few seconds, thinking. “Dumbtrash,” he said after a while. “Repeat it.”

“D-dumb t-trash?” stammered Venus with a confused expression on her face.

“It’s your servonym, you moron,” said Yeoman. “Your new name. Well, this proves it fits you well. Now say it again, properly.”

“Dumbtrash,” repeated the girl with tears rolling down her cheeks.

Satisfied, he moved his finger pistol to River. The girl held her breath.

“Supplecunt,” he said this time.

“Supplecunt,” River repeated. “Thank you, Master-Agent.”
 

The Lawsuit, by Erenisch​

View attachment 1798058

For now the story has 22 chapters, and is actively being worked on.
It takes place after 'Birthday Girl 11' and 'Milk'.
And here's a post with a list of Erenisch's stories, more or less in order + links to epub compilations of the chapters

Synopsis:
3 girls who were used to distract Peter Stevenson while boys raped Maggy get brought to justice.
Broken link
 

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