[Erenisch] Novella.

[wivers]

Broken link

Can you be more specific? Nothing is broken for me, neither post's link nor epub file.

 

[academia]

Can you be more specific? Nothing is broken for me, neither post's link nor epub file.

stops downloading halfway through for me

 

[wivers]

stops downloading halfway through for me

Try again. I think the issues was on your hand (your connexion). I downloaded it successfully after your previous post.

 

[wivers]

"Slavecop Academy" by Erenisch​

For now, the story has 10 chapters, but apparently only one illustration unfortunately.

This story takes place around 2 generations before "Birthday Girl" and "Mastery", one generation before "Revolution".
It follows River and her friends who are selected to be trained as slavecops.

Here's a cover I made for the ebook:

Spoiler: Cover

And here's my list of Epubs of Erenisch's stories, more or less in order

2026-05-28 Edit: added Chapters 18-19

 

[wivers]

I've updated the ebooks for Milk (Chapter 11), "The Journey" (chapter 34), "The Operation" (chapters44-46), and the one-shots compilation (+"Conception"). My Index has all the links

 

[Kaige]

It appears that E has released a new novella about Gwen called Erenischean Slave Manual

 

[timbob]

View attachment 2123517
It appears that E has released a new novella about Gwen called Erenischean Slave Manual

Sad I could give just one reaction... Please read it like "Wow-Love it" (Big: "please share this" - @xxxfluffydeath!!!)

 

[ay42]

View attachment 2123517
It appears that E has released a new novella about Gwen called Erenischean Slave Manual

Wow, I too would love to see read that about the standards and customs of the Erenisch universe in a "how to" manual

 

[wivers]

It appears that E has released a new novella about Gwen called Erenischean Slave Manual

I understood it to be a new collection of images

 

[xxfluffydeathxx]

View attachment 2123517
It appears that E has released a new novella about Gwen called Erenischean Slave Manual

I'll try to update sometime later today.

 

[xxfluffydeathxx]

Gwen's Portfolio​

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[Kaige]

Another set of Erenischean Slave Manual was released according to E on Twitter. But seems like it is indeed a series of sketches and posting them in the arts threads might be more appropriate(?)

 

[xxfluffydeathxx]

I'll try to update the novella and misc art soon.

 

[xxfluffydeathxx]

The Operation - 47​

“Yes, I remember my first night at the academy like it was yesterday.” Lidia grabbed the last cookie on the plate and took a big bite. “Worst day of my life. The last day, I should say. The life I’ve known was over. I was raped, humiliated, manhandled, and beaten… again and again. I was fully naked, soaking wet, cold, hungry…” She finished her cookie. “But at the end, the worst part of it was those fucking shelves. It was like one of those lockers they keep dead bodies in, you know, like in morgues? Only difference was, our shelves were a lot smaller. Mine was half my size, literally. Only way to fit in those was to assume a fetal position.”

“Like in a womb?” commented Minerva with a bitter smile. “I can speculate on the functional reasons, but let’s not ignore the symbolism of that. It was a ‘rebirth.’ A new life, a new purpose, a new family… a new name…” She paused and turned to Lidia.

“Yes,” replied the ex-slavecop before the other asked the question. “I was servonymmed on my first day. I was shared among five officers from the welcome committee... for several hours. I forgot how many times they finished in my mouth that evening. Swallowed liters of the stuff, it felt like. So, one of them had a very creative idea in the end.”

“Not a very unique one, huh? There must be hundreds of Cumgulpers in the Registry.” Minerva smiled and continued to fiddle with the collar that chained her to the bed. “You know, I wrote a little program for that when I first joined the BFA as an analyst. A random servonym generator. A simple one. You input the physical and psychological characteristics of a female, input your desired level of humiliation, and it creates a shortlist of slave name recommendations.” She turned to Lidia and tapped her on the back of her hand. “My boss liked it so much, he stole it from me, put his name on it and presented it to his boss. He got an immediate promotion.”

“You want recognition for making females’ lives infinitesimally worse?” mocked Lidia. “You don’t really want that laurel on your head… Compared to what I have been doing, that’s nothing anyway. I retrieved… more than three hundred?” She paused for a moment as her own words swirled in her own head. “Did you know… Well, of course you’d know… I recently discovered that there’s a popular TV show based on my 'exemplary' service. It’s just unbelievable.”

“The Blue, yes. Well, the main character is definitely a caricature of you. The first season was mainly based on your case files too, but starting from the second season…” She stopped. “You know, I don’t even own a TV, but I read the transcripts of the show out of curiosity.”

“Anyway,” interjected Lidia, “what I meant to say is, you are not so bad, Minerva. Analyzing runner retrieval data and coding the occasional slave-naming app wouldn’t make you a horrible monster like me.”

“Oh, I have done worse things than that,” said the other with a somber tone. “Much much much worse.”


* * *


“Are you sure it’s Persephone? You have visual confirmation?”

“Not yet. The scout claims that they spotted her among the three girls the Grabbers were gangraping last night. Apparently it was a long and lively celebration. They dragged her back into that cave afterwards, seemingly unconscious but alive. They are now utilizing another trio. They have a continuous rotation. Three women available for the members to use at the camp at all times. Our girl must be in one of those cages inside. Perhaps Captain Seymour too?”

“Do we have good intel about this hideout?” asked the blonde. “The cave, how big is it? How many cages? How many girls? How many dicks to sever?” Lynx was one of the most decorated warriors of the Tigress’s infamous Feline division. She was a brooding silent type who seldom used long sentences. Her preferred mode of communication was growling. She looked formidable with her taller-than-average athletic body, which was covered in countless scars. Their oddly symmetrical pattern gave rise to a rumor that she replicated every battle scar she received with her own hands. She topped that unstable warrior princess look by wrapping her long braid around her head like a crown.

Ziyou gestured to the young girl a few meters away. She quietly crawled towards the two captains and lay next to them.

“This is Macaria. She and her squad have been tracking this Grabber gang for the past two weeks.” She tapped the girl on the shoulder. “Tell Captain Lynx all you know about these particular bunch of assholes and their lair.”

“Yes ma’am,” said the petite brunette wrapped in camo gear from top to bottom. With her skinny body, she looked more like a shrivelled mummy than a guerrilla fighter. “We counted 8 men in total. Three of them left about an hour ago with a chaingang of 12 girls. They were headed towards the Fritz bazaar. Persephone or Sekhmet weren’t among them.” She pointed at her comrades in the distance. “One of the girls says she was held in there a couple years ago. It’s a smallish nook with iron bars blocking the entrance. She claims that they can fit as many as 30 girls in there.”

“How did she escape?”

“Apparently these guys like to party… a lot,” replied Macaria, “She somehow managed to break free and sneak out one night after most of the gangbangers passed out. Our patrols found her unconscious, miles from here, heavily raped and beaten within an inch of her life.”

“Look!” Ziyou put her finger on the scout’s lips. “They are untying the girls. Looks like they are about to replace their fuckmeat.”

“About time!” exclaimed Lynx. “If you spot one of our girls among the new batch, we’re going in.” She turned to Ziyou. “Get me the two purplepuss you brought with you. I want to see them in action.”


* * *

Lake took a deep breath and pulled her legs to her chest when she heard the men dragging her red-haired cage-mate back in. Whimpers of fear rose from the rest of the captive girls as they backed down into the nooks and dark corners of their cages in a futile attempt to hide.

Two men lifted the redhead by her arms and legs and tossed her in Lake’s cage like a sack of potatoes. A barely audible groan escaped her mouth when she hit the ground, her cum-covered naked body rolled down until it hit the rock wall, and she immediately passed out. The men left to drag the other two girls in. They chained them in the next cage. Then they walked around the cages for a few seconds, slapped a few captives who were begging for mercy or sobbing too loudly, and selected three fresh fucktoys for the next gangrape.

When she saw the big bald guy with the face tattoo coming towards her cage, Lake immediately knew she was going to be picked once more. Each men had their favorite fuckmeat, and Lake had been the first choice of at least two gang members. Face-tattoo guy grabbed her leg and yanked her out of her cage. She didn’t even attempt to resist or protest as they dragged her towards the communal rape area.

“Please, not the spitroast again” she prayed under her breath. The main wooden-horse next to the campfire was certainly the worst one of the improvised torture devices set up in the middle of the Grabber camp. It provided access to all fuckholes and left the victim’s torso vulnerable to beatings. Nails, pebbles, and other sharp things were hammered into its surface so the prisoner could never have a moment of relief while her body was pounded mercilessly from both sides. It was also too close to the campfire. Having spent long hours on that infernal thing, Lake found it to be worse than anything she had endured in her life, including her training at Section Eight.

She got lucky this time. The guy picked the dead oak to suspend her from this time. He pulled her arms up and attached her handcuffs to one of the chains dangling from a sturdy branch of the tree. Then he started to wound the pulley to tighten the chain. Her tired joints hurt like hell as she was pulled up, but she didn’t even had the energy to scream. After her feet left the ground, he parted her legs and tied her knees to other chains one by one, leaving her defenseless naked body suspended in the air. When he was done, she exhaled and let herself go. Her body sank, spreadeagled, ready to be used as a mindless fucktoy for the rest of the night.

Unsurprisingly, the big guy with the face tattoo was her first rapist of the night. He fucked her pussy for a few minutes, slapped her for a while, and left to play with the other girls. Another big one penetrated her immediately, this time in the ass. As the party raged on, she used every trick she knew to stay awake as a rotating cast of gangbangers kept violating her sore holes. From past experience she knew well that the men would punish her with a violent beating if she passed out even for a moment.

The face tattoo guy returned a couple more times to fuck her. When he returned for the second time, he splashed her with a bucket of water before sticking his monstrously big dick in her aching butthole. The freezing cold water washed the cum accumulated around her holes and gave her aching body a much needed boost.

Hours flew by. She lost count of the men who violated her primary and secondary incessantly. Her strength fully depleted, her muscles and joints gave in, her eyelids got heavier and heavier. She knew that she was about to pass out, and subsequently woken up by a beating.

She simply had no energy left. Inevitably, she blacked out.

A thump. Her back hurt. Was it gonna be a whipping this time?

No. She was lying on her back under the tree. She heard a commotion, thumps, swishes, and bangs. Confused, she turned her head to see what was going on. The face tattoo guy was squirming on the ground a couple meters meter away, something sticking out on his back. An arrow?

“Persephone?” A couple of strange silhouettes appeared over her battered naked body. One crouched down to wipe the thick coat of cum off her face. A young woman in FLF fatigues? Finally!

“I found her,” the woman yelled. Two more silhouettes quickly arrived. “You can relax, Persephone. you’re safe now.”

“What took you so long,” she mumbled, and passed out again.

 

[xxfluffydeathxx]

Slavecop Academy -7: Deflowered​

“Cunts! Off the shelves! Tertiaries high! Single file!”

Jolted awake by the loud command, River hit her head on the roof of her sleeping nook. She drowsily turned and dangled her legs down. The sight of her naked body immediately reminded her where she was.

The last thing she remembered was climbing into her shelf after her “official welcome” to the Slavecop Academy. She and Venus, now renamed Dumbtrash, were the first two to arrive at the cell block. She wanted to stay awake until her besties Daphne and Willow arrived. Her little nook was too uncomfortable to fall asleep in anyway.

She passed out only a few seconds after she lay down.

“It’s 4:59, cadets!” announced the young slavecop at the door. River recognized the dorm guard from the day before. “You have less than one minute to get out of the frying pan.”

Frying pan? River understood that the slavecops, like all specialized groups and organizations, had their own jargon, of course. Most of the words and terms she heard so far made more or less sense. But “frying pan” for a sleeping shelf? It was nonsensical. Regardless, she reluctantly climbed down and took her place at the head of the single file.

“I thought we were allowed to sleep until 5,” Venus complained with a grumpy face. She was the only one left on the shelves. “Rules are rules, sister. I think I’ll use every second I have to slee-”

She couldn’t finish her sentence. A sudden oscillating buzz interrupted her, and loud crackles hit the shelves all at once. River looked around in confusion for a second before realizing what was happening. Venus screamed and started to shake, caught in a non-lethal but very painful electrical current.

“Don’t touch the shelves,” the guard girl said as she looked at her watch. “2 more seconds.”

As she said, the buzzing stopped a moment later. Released from her agony, Venus jumped off her shelf and attempted to walk away, but fell on the floor after a few steps.

“This is a courtesy,” the guard announced. “I will wake you cunts up every morning at 4:59 until the end of this week. After that, you have to rely on your own internal body clocks and each other. Adjust or suffer, cunts! Simple as that.” She kicked Venus to force her to stand up. “Cadet Dumbtrash, fall in line.”

Venus groaned in pain and stood up, then stepped in the line cursing under her breath.

“You, in the shirt!”

It took River a second to realize the she was the only girl in the group with a piece of clothing apart from the guard. “Yes… sister?” she replied timidly.

“You’ll be the mother duck in this dorm for now. In the absence of a superior or a ranked sister, you’ll keep the order in here.” She smacked River in the butt. “Now, follow me to the showers. The rest of you ducklings, follow Cadet Supplecunt.”

River nodded and set out after the guard. She had her game face on, but underneath she was confused as hell. Now she was supposed to be in charge of a group of scared girls? And just for helping a man torture another girl? What a ridiculous clown show this was!

Still… it kinda felt good. Her first points in this cruel game.

Joined by three other groups, the long line of girls followed a short path to the communal showers. With its concrete walls halfway covered with blue tiles and the aggressive smell of chlorine, the large square looked like an old swimming pool. When they were lined along the wall River noticed that the groups from the other cellblocks had more girls in clothing items just like hers. Most were wearing shirts with varying coverage, but she also spotted a lot of over-the-knee socks and even a few bikini briefs. When they received the “bare all” order, the others quickly removed their skimpy gear and hanged them on the hooks behind them. River did the same.

The guard blew a whistle, and the girls swiftly lined up under the shower heads. At this stage they were not receiving any clear instructions. The procedure was simple enough. All they had to do was watch the older recruits and copy what they were doing anyway. Another whistle and cold jets of water hit their naked bodies. A cacophony of surprised screams rose from River and the newbies, while the more experienced cadets managed to remain relatively quiet.

River counted. The shower took exactly 30 seconds. Then they picked up their clothes, lined up, and walked out following a series of whistles. This time they were headed upstairs. Their training, whatever that meant, was about to begin.

Still at the head of her befuddled group of “ducklings,” River couldn’t see her friends. She still didn’t know what happened between Daphne and Willow in the “betrayal room,” or whether they received their servonyms or not. She couldn’t wait for a chance to talk to them. Was it even allowed, talking to one’s fellow trainees? This no-speaking-without-permission rule was rather unclear in that respect.

While they were passing through the hall they were banded in a day before, a male officer stepped forward and waved at the guard leading the line. She whistled and the girls stopped in their tracks.

“Unfucked cunts!” he yelled, causing confusion among the newbies he pointed at. “Vaginal virgins,” he clarified when he saw the hesitation on the girls’ faces. “Step out of the line and lie down on these tables.”

River looked around for a second, then dragged her feet towards the desks in the middle of the hall. four more girls followed her timidly. Willow was one of them. Daphne stayed in the line. River could see fresh tears flowing down her friend’s cheeks.

Now she knew who won that terrible contest.

The man tapped on the desk. He looked bored and unenthusiastic, and rather tired too. “Perhaps he had to rape too many girls last night,” River thought to herself as she climbed on top of the desk and lay down on her back. The other four did the same.

“Legs up! Hug your knees!” he ordered with a strangely indifferent tone. They obeyed. “A-S Fucktart, slick ‘em,” he commanded this time. The guard quickly walked up to the girls to lick their slits, starting from the other end of the line. Still unable to comprehend what was happening, River felt like she was having an out-of-body experience as she lay waiting, naked, with her legs up and crotch exposed. She was too scared to look, but she could hear the guard’s tongue making the girls squirm and whimper. Only when the girl next to her started sobbing River finally realized what was clear to everybody in the hall.

She was about to lose her virginity. Not that it made any difference at this point.

She bit her lips and braced for the first taste of cunnilingus of her life when A-S Fucktart’s tongue finally hit her own slit. The girl took her time. Her calm strokes and warm breath gave River the impression that she wasn’t as apathetic as the male officer looked. Was she the only one in the room who was enjoying herself?

Whether she enjoyed it or not, Fucktart eventually stopped and took a step back. “All are ready to receive your cock, master,” she announced.

That nonchalant declaration made the girls on the table gasp. River held her breath in fear. “Very well,” the man said, approached River and penetrated her virginal pussy without warning. She shrieked in surprise. It was a lot more painful than she imagined. It felt like a spear being shoved in her and tore her flesh apart repeatedly.

He thrust in her a few more times and took his cock out. He reached forward , grabbed her by the hair and pulled her to himself, landed a hard slap on her face, and yanked her off the table. She fell down and hit her shoulder on the concrete, as he shoved his cock in the next girl’s pussy. A few more thrusts, another hard slap, and the girl found herself on the floor next to River. Willow was next to be deflowered in the same cruel way. He fuck his way down the line under a minute.

All five girls were now panting on the floor, last crumbs of their dignity destroyed, thrown away like used tissue paper.

“Clean it up!” ordered the man this time. Fucktart immediately fell down to her knees and took his cock in her well-trained mouth. River pulled herself up and watched with tears running down her cheeks as the young slavecop dutifully licked the five virgins’ fresh pussy juices off her rapist’s organ.

She expected, no knew, that her first utilization would be painful and humiliating, of course… like every young girl in the country.

She just never imagined that she would have wanted it to be more "personal" and last longer than a few seconds.

 

[xxfluffydeathxx]

Slavecop Academy -8: All-fours​

She still couldn’t believe it. Her virginity was gone.

She knew, of course, it was nothing but a word. A funny sounding one too. It didn’t have the same hollowed, grandiose meaning any more. It didn’t mean chastity, maidenhood, innocence… It didn’t symbolize virtue, honor or purity like in those stupid fairy tales.

Not any more. It simply meant “in mint condition.” Something a CMR would list in the description of the female he’s trying to sell. “This item was never used in that particular orifice before. You could be the lucky asshole to dick her down first!”

Her stupid hymen, if she even had one in the first place, was now destroyed and gone without a doubt. As if some magical shield was taken away. Some shield it was! Yes, it deterred a lot of boys from raping their schoolmates in their primary fuckholes, but that silly word provided little protection when they decided that your mouth kinda sorta looked like a pussy. Perhaps even a better fuckhole in many ways.

At least one creep from her neighborhood thought so. He tested his theory three times, despite her muffled protests and pleads.

River was smart and lucky enough to avoid the occasional ladies’ room facerape raids the boys conducted. She tried not to use the restrooms at school if possible, always went to the fast food joint nearby whenever necessary. After school, on her way home, she changed her path randomly and generally stuck to main roads. Breaking routine was essential. She always remembered what her mother told her a few days before her 18th birthday: "Keep away, keep low, keep quiet, keep safe. Never antagonize men! Never act unattainable, never even smirk, never ridicule, mock, or joke, never talk back, never contradict, never provoke. Keep your eyes down, slouch, do whatever you can to look unattractive."

She did her best, but she was doomed to fail on the last part. She was, unfortunately, an exceptionally attractive girl. She was slapped with a high A-grade on her primary inspection, but the inspector informed her that another centimeter could easily push her to S territory. It was the first time in her life she was glad that she wasn’t taller. S-grades were rare and well-regarded, sure, but she had heard the rumors about what usually happened to those tall freaks.

Alas. She didn’t know that S-grades were in fact “too rare.” There were simply not enough of them to fill the shelves of the SEFR, so the Androcracy decided to dig into the A pool where River’s ass was in.

Now she was standing in the middle of what used to be a basketball court, together with tens of other young women with shaky legs and teary eyes. 39 girls to be exact. Zero virgins.

It was all over under ten… perhaps five seconds. That agent, he penetrated her without ceremony, without care, thrust a couple times and pulled out, then did the same to four other girls lined next to her on the desk. She… they meant nothing to him. It was but a statement. He wasn’t there to rape them per se, he was only there to let the girls know that they existed to be raped.

All knew what they were, of course. But knowing wasn’t actually feeling it inside.

Even after ten minutes passed, she still felt his organ in there, stretching her out. Its hardness, its girth, the way it moved, all tentatively recorded by her vaginal muscles. Her inexperienced womanhood was confused, bewildered… She realized that this brief and violent encounter left her wet and dripping, even though her mind was in a completely different mood. It was true. A woman’s vagina did not belong to her. The damn thing had a mind of its own. And more alarmingly, it was a fucking slut.

“Attention cunts!”

All girls adjusted their postures and rose on their tiptoes. There were no restraining circles on the floor this time, but they now knew how to stand properly. The guards who escorted them from the dorms stepped back, making way to a stocky man with bulging muscles. He slowly made his way to the center of the court and took a long look at the new recruits. River felt like he made eye contact with her longer than the others. She was probably wrong, but perhaps he was making a mental note because she was the only one in her group with a tank top on.

“I’m Master-Agent Ungel, cadets,” he started after making a quick catalogue of the girls in his mind. “I know most of you think that there is nothing worse than being enslaved. There's nothing lower than a cunt.” He paused for effect. “Well, I’m here to prove you wrong. I’m the head bitchmaster here. I have a simple, straightforward job. Turning you miserable unruly whores into dutiful, loyal dogs.” A nervous hum rose from the group when he said "dog." He seemed to enjoy the effect his words had on the girls. “Don’t be too alarmed, bitches,” he continued with a smirk at the corner of his lips. "Only a small percentage of the cadets will be selected for the elite K-19 unit at the end of basic training. But it doesn't really matter. I’ll make sure that you will all become the best quadrupeds you can be as if you're all destined to be puppified.”

He scanned the group again. His gaze eventually stopped at River’s flushed face. He walked over slowly and stood in front of her. He reached between her legs and slapped her inner thighs, forcing her to part her feet wider. Without saying anything, he started to play with her vulva, pull her pussy lips and stroke her clit, seemingly without any specific purpose. River bit her lower lip and waited for it to be over. she couldn’t help but let out a little yelp when his middle finger suddenly entered her recently violated hole and started to move around.

“I know a majority of you are athletes, bitches” he restarted as he kept playing casually with River’s primary fuckhole. “Some of you are dancers. I’m sure many of you still think that your achievements in your fields, whether it be sports or arts, is important and meaningful. Well, I have news for you. That’s not the case at all.” He paused and looked River in the eyes again. Tears running down her cheeks, she held her breath and tried to keep her posture. He was now giving her a proper fingerfucking. “Sports education for girls at school is nothing but a way to prepare you for your life as a fucktoy, of course. I’m sure most of you figured it out on your own already. I mean, those oh-so-subtle exercise routines the ministry recommends simply gives it away, don’t they?” He picked up the pace, breaking River’s feeble composure and forcing her to moan aloud. He had three fingers in her now. Her knees buckled as his knuckles hit her vulva without mercy.

“That much is obvious, of course. But that program also helps separate the wheat from the chaff. You all excelled in your fields, became the best you could be, so we could easily spot you and bring you here. Isn’t that genius? Don’t worry, bitches. You made it. You won! You’ll be slavecops.” He stopped suddenly, sensing that River was dangerously close to a forced climax. She gasped, confused. Once again, she was released prematurely. First the 5-second deflowering, now the edge-fingering. She wasn’t sure which was worse. The paralyzing humiliation of getting fingered in public, or the unexpected frustration she felt because he stopped before she could reach orgasm?

“I have a talent, bitches,” Ungel continued. The guy definitely liked to listen to his own voice. “I can see what you're capable of. I can see your future. I can even guess pretty accurately how many runners you will retrieve throughout your careers.” He reached and grabbed River by the hair with his left hand and pulled her tank top up with the other. Freed from their cloth prison, her big tits bounced around with glee. Just like he did with her pussy, he started to play with them casually, squeezing, pinching, and slapping them around. River groaned and bit her lip once again.

“For example,” he restarted, “I can safely say this one will not end up in the K-19. She is simply too beautiful to keep on all-fours and in a sniff-enhancer mask at all times. “Sure, she’ll look great on her knees, preferably with a cock in her mouth…” He let her go and stepped back. It took River a couple seconds to understand what was expected of her, and a few more to gather her strength to obey the implied command. She reluctantly dropped to her knees, unzipped his pants, took his hardened member in her mouth, and started to suck it as well as she could. It was now more than obvious to her. These cruel men, they would never let her forget what she was here for. Not even for a second.

He waited for a full minute for her to find the correct rhythm before speaking again. “Yes, now I can see even more clearly. This little cunt will go places. I see a bright future, long record of retrievals, commendations.” He grabbed her head with both hands and started to fuck it violently. River immediately surrendered. He unloaded in her mouth and pulled out. She swallowed and zipped him up. He patted her on the head, signalling his satisfaction. “Alright bitches, enough for introductions. Time to begin your training. Let’s start with warming up with a few laps around the court.”

Finally, something non-humiliating she can do. River was a track athlete, and running was her favorite activity in the world. It was soothing and relaxing, almost a meditative experience. It would certainly alleviate the mental anguish and crippling anxiety she was suffering from since the day before. She attempted to stand back up, but his hand landed on her shoulder and forced her back down. “Not so fast, bitch,” he smirked. “Before you can run, you need to learn how to crawl.”

He slapped her hard. River fell forward and ended up on her hands and knees, as he intended. “On all-fours, bitches!” he yelled this time. Make a line here. Let’s see how fast you can bitchwalk. Finish one tour around the court under a minute and I’ll let you rest until the end of the session. But if a single one of you fails to do so, you’ll all repeat the course. Again and again!”

“Ready? Go!”

 

[xxfluffydeathxx]

Slavecop Academy - 9: The Bitchborn​

It took the girls 12 tries to complete a lap around the court under a minute. River was sure they had done it in the first try, actually. She counted like she always did while playing timed games, and calculated they were 4 seconds faster. However Bitchmaster Ungel’s stopwatch didn’t agree. The group had to run until their knees were bruised and almost bloody, then the man gave the signal to stop. He didn’t even time the last five laps.

Once they were done bitchwalking -perhaps “bitchrunning” was a more accurate term- the girls were lined-up at the center and allowed to rest on their hands and knees. Several trainer slavecops walked among the group and used their special canes to correct the girls’ stances. “Resting” meant sitting on one’s heels in general, and River knew that much even before she was enslaved. But in bitchtraining, their palms had to be on the ground, just in front of their knees. They were supposed to be dogs, after all. It sounded and felt silly only for a few minutes. Nobody was laughing, of course, especially after canes and floggers started to land on their naked backs and bottoms mercilessly whenever they failed to follow the instructions to the letter. Even the title “bitchmaster” didn’t sound ridiculous beyond that moment.

The stocky asshole waited for a few minutes with his arms crossed, until their respiration turned to normal. All were in proper resting bitch positions now. None dared to move. Their knees were bruised and aching. River was surprised to find out that crawling took that many muscles. Somehow even the back of her ears were throbbing in pain.

The funereal silence in the basketball court was broken when A-S Fucktart, the slavecop who led the group here, approached Master-Agent Ungel and showed him her tablet. The bitchmaster grabbed the device, took a long look and nodded. Fucktart turned to the group and yelled a command: “Cadet Dickingdoll, to master’s hand!”

River heard a gasp and raised her head. She wanted to see who Dickingdoll was, but she was too scared to turn her head to look. A couple of seconds passed before a rustling sound rose from the back and inched towards her. A slender body crawled by and placed her head in the bitchmaster’s palm. River’s eyes widened.

It was Hazel Brown, her schoolmate.

Dickingdoll? To her befuddlement, River’s mind immediately conjured up possible scenarios about how the girl must have earned such a name. She shook her head in shame as she attempted get rid of the thoughts.

“I always get a bunch of know-nothings, rarely we meet a couple girls who were exposed to bitch-training prior to their E-day,.” announced the man. “Turns out we have a special one in the group today. The Registry informs us that Cadet Dickingdoll here was born of a true woofer.”

A true woofer? River was confused.

“Wow!” exclaimed the man, as he continued to read the information on the tablet. “Your mother was an original Fisted, eh? One of the first to submit to the Androcracy. Enslaved and turned into a fucktoy even before it was cool.” He looked at the kneeling girl and smirked. Hazel was trembling under his hand. “Officially made a slave the day after the enactment of the CFSL, and made a woofer three years later. Is that true?”

“Yes master-agent,” mumbled Hazel in tears.

“She was not allowed to talk after that. You were too young to remember. You probably never heard her utter human words.”

“No, master-Agent.”

“But that makes you special, doesn’t it, Dickingdoll? Raised by a true woofer, you must be a fluent woofer too.”

“I… This cunt wasn’t really raised by her, master-agent,” Hazel sobbed, “We rarely interacted directly. She wasn’t allowed in the house. But I… this cunt ended up learning it anyway. It’s not a very complicated language. It has limited vocabulary, and…”

“That’s right,” interjected the man. “Don’t worry, Cadet Dickingdoll. We don’t use woovish here at the Academy. Restricting a woman’s speech to such an extreme degree can be very entertaining, of course, but not in our line of work. It’s very inefficient.” He let her head go and took a step back, leaving the trembling girl on her knees in front of the group of bitchlings. “But I’m sure you learned a lot just by observing, right? How many dogs did your father own?”

“Um?… Women or real…”

“How many petwomen, you stupid cunt?”

“T-three quadrupeds, master agent. One talker, one woofer, one… bovinized. My father’s slave-wives took care of them.”

River was stunned. She didn’t know Hazel as well as Wil and Daph, of course. The girl was barely an acquaintance. But it never occurred to her that she was a slave-born. Not only the daughter of a sex slave, but a petgirl… who was not allowed to… talk? “Woofer” was the word he used to describe the slave-mother. A term River had never heard before.

“Since you’re the only one with experience, albeit second-hand, perhaps you can help us demonstrate some basic puppy positions, Dickingdoll?”

Hazel nodded reluctantly. He wasn’t asking. It was an order.

“Look at you,” the man said and patted the girl on the head. “You’re already performing the waiting-in-attention position perfectly. Look at this pup and copy her, cunts. Knees touching, legs parallel, soles of the feet form a U-shape. Palms pressed down the floor, fingers together, pointing straight forward. She needed no instructions for that. She learned by watching her mother act like a proper pet every single day.” Hazel froze in the position he described in detail, but her tears continued to run down her cheeks. “Now, transition to relaxed waiting,” ordered the man. Hazel had to think for a moment, then she parted her knees to form a letter V with her folded legs, pulled her palms back a few centimeters.

“Good girl, Dickingdoll,” said the man, apparently impressed by the new recruit’s impeccable form. “Note how her feet flattened and her back straightened to match the new position. Now go back to attention!” Hazel obeyed quickly. River noticed that her schoolmate was no longer trembling like before. She immediately recognized the look in her teary eyes. Hazel knew this stuff well, and this familiarity gave her a modicum of comfort in this strange time and place she found herself in. These bitch positions, no matter how humiliating they were to perform in front of her peers, somehow helped her cope and relax. For River, the gaming angle and the detailed set of rules helped her deal with this new dark reality. For Hazel, it could be the pet stuff.

“Hound!” ordered the man this time. This gave the girl a pause. She looked up in confusion. “Fucking civilians,” the man cursed. “Hound? Sheepdog, square stand, bench, closed all-fours.”

“Bench?” Hazel repeated under her breath, and quickly stretched her body into one. This time she wasn’t so sure if she did it correctly or not.

She got lucky. “Good,” Ungel approved. “See here, cunts! Elbows straight, legs at a perfect right angle, fingers pointing straight forward and toes backward. Her back is arched, but not too much. All holes accessible for easy penetration.”

His last words made Hazel shiver. River didn’t know her well, but she had the impression that the girl wasn’t an experienced type.

“That reminds me,” smirked Ungel. “What is missing in this picture, Dickingdoll?”

She looked at the man, confused. “All holes accessible?” he repeated to give her memory a jolt.

“Um… a tail plug?” she asked timidly after a few seconds.

“Very goood!” said the man mockingly and patted her on the head again. He waved at one of the uniformed girls waiting at the back. She picked up a big cardboard box from the equipment cabinet and brought it over.

“Well, we don’t use tail-plugs here. This isn’t your neighborhood Cummypaws cuntpound. But of course, you’ll all be plugged while you aren’t in use.” He picked the biggest buttplug River had ever seen from the box and crouched down next to the obedient puppygirl. It was one of those multi-stage insertables with four bulbous parts. The one at the tip looked terrifying enough, but each stage was bigger than the one before it.

“Now transition into ‘bowl, 'bitchborn,” he ordered. This time Hazel didn’t need to hear the civilian variants of the command. She parted her elbows, lowered her head down and kissed the floor, then arched her back and presented her butt for penetration. The man smiled and shoved the tip of the plug in her inexperienced asshole without losing a second. The girl’s face contorted in pain for a moment, but she somehow managed to muffle her scream into a barely audible groan. River assumed that it was another a skill she observed in her mother.

River gasped as Ungel used his two fingers to push the plug in deeper and deeper. Hazel kept her composure as the first three bulbs penetrated her, but let out a yelp when the last part went in. It looked like an orange disappearing in her butt.

“Good girl,” he said once again and stood back up. “Now, the rest of you… First to hound, then to bowl!”

A terrified hum rose from the group. River took a deep breath and moved her hands forward, stretching her slender body into a bench-like stance, waited a couple seconds, then lowered her head and kissed the floor. She tried her best to emulate Hazel’s moves. A few canes and floggers exploded on the backs of the girls who either hesitated or failed. River arched her back and raised her butt as high as possible. She could hear a slavecop coming closer and closer. A couple of footsteps, a scream, more footsteps, a pained groan, more steps, a gasp…

She was now determined to do her best when it was her turn. Once again, her gamer brain was taking over her body. She had seen Hazel perform a task excellently, and she had seen her receive praise for it. Now all she could think about was doing better than that. She just couldn’t help it. She had a competitive personality. Even in such a strange situation, she had to be better than everyone in the room. She could see the insanity of it, sure, but it didn’t really matter at all.

Finally, A-S Fucktart stopped right behind her. She reached into the box and picked a plug, crouched down and pressed the cold plastic against her anal opening. Determined to minimize the inescapable pain, River tried to relax her muscles. The tip of the plug entered her without any problem when Fucktart applied a little pleasure. Then the next part followed suit, which lulled the girl into false sense of comfort. That’s when the slavecop slapped the thing in with full force. It felt like sitting a traffic cone. River let out a scream as the bigger end ripped her butt apart. She managed to suppress her groans after the first moment of weakness, but the pain was nothing like anything she experienced before. Fucktart slapped her on the butt again, and moved on to the next girl.

“Now that’s more like it!” said the bitchmaster once all the girls were plugged. “All right, cunts. Time to get back on the running track. Lets see how fast can you crawl with those big boys stuck in your cute little tushies. 10 laps. First one to finish eats human food at lunch. The last one will be gangraped and beaten for an hour!”

Human food? At that moment it dawned on River. She was now a slave, and slaves ate slave feed. She took a deep breath and prepared herself for the competition. She was going to do her best to win anyway. The promise of human food was only the cherry on the cake.

 

[xxfluffydeathxx]

Milk! - 12​

Bianca opened her eyes and looked around drowsily. Her confusion lasted a couple seconds until she saw Arthur’s young girlfriend Veena’s naked body dangling from the ceiling. The girl was still unconscious. Her entire backside and full round tits were covered in bright red welts, and cum was leaking out of her primary and secondary. Her hands and feet looked swollen and purplish. Bianca raised her head to look at her own hands tied together above her head. They had an alarming color too. The ropes around her wrists and ankles were too tight. Arthur wasn’t skilled in tying women. Or he simply didn’t care about the comfort of his fuckmeat.

Unlike Veena, whose entire body was suspended in mid-air with legs apart for easy access to her young fuckholes, Bianca’s feet reached the ground. Still, balancing on her tiptoes didn’t ease the pain in her joints. She looked around for something to stand on, swung towards the stool Arthur used to bend her over and fuck her in the ass the night before, and clumsily pulled it with her bound feet. When it was close enough, she stepped on it to relieve the pressure on her shoulders.

She let out a quiet sigh of relief. Arthur was still snoring in his bed, and she didn’t want to wake him up too soon. All her holes were still sore from the night before. She could see the tip of the sun lighting up the eastern horizon. Her eyes lit up too. Finally, the weekend was here.

She couldn’t remember a time she felt this eager to go to the weekend rape camp since the group of her former students bought her as a sex slave. The regular two-day long event had an entirely different meaning now. A few weeks prior, on her birthday, the boys stole her daughter Darla from her rightful owner and brought her to the camp. After their first gangrape together, the newly formed "family slave set" was split once again. They made a separate schedule for the new arrival, so the two would never find themselves in the same room throughout the week.

They were allowed to meet again at the next weekend camp, where they had the chance to talk for the first time since Darla was sold. It was quite an emotional five minutes before they were dragged back to separate flogging posts.

Bianca had many nightmares about her daughter’s fate since her departure. Every time she saw a slave being utilized in public, her daughter’s face looked back, her lips contorted in pain, cheeks soaked in tears… Her husband told her that the guy who purchased Darla was a wealthy businessman and the girl was going to be used as “car-cocksucker.” This information was what gave her a modicum of relief in the following months. She felt that it was a better fate for her girl, considering the much scary alternatives. Once she was enslaved herself and her “chemical” obedience training began at Girlmart, that memory suppressing stuff in the slavefeed made her worry less and less about the fate of her poor daughter.

But then, totally unexpectedly, her nightmares materialized right before her teary eyes. For the past few weeks, she watched her precious Darla’s slender naked body getting ruthlessly and gleefully abused and beaten by the boys. They would get raped side by side, get beaten together, suck cocks one after another, and repeat. For two long days, without a chance to rest properly, or an opportunity to have a meaningful conversation. Then they would be separated again, spending the next five days in different utilization rotations.

This unbelievably horrendous situation was a lot worse than what she originally imagined. Yet she realized that she didn’t feel as terrified and dismayed as she should have. Was it the chems the boys regularly gave her, or was she getting numb to the incessant cruelty and violence she was subjected to? No matter what the cause is, she was able to perform her slave duties properly even with constant screams and sobs of her daughter in the background. They hurt, yes, but not enough to overwhelm her.

The sun rose and hit Arthur right in the eye, eventually waking him up. He got up and cut Veena down, cleaned his cock in her mouth, and kicked her out of the house. He then fucked Commoncunt in the pussy before letting her take a quick shower. She was refreshed and rapeready in less then 5 minutes. He put on her leash and bitchwalked her out. Nate was already waiting for them with the trunk of his car open. She climbed in and they headed to the camp.

George kept Darla on Fridays. When they got to his house, Bianca wondered if her daughter was going to be shoved in the trunk with her. She wasn’t. Instead, they pulled her into the backseat to fuck her beautiful face. Throughout the trip, Bianca had to listen to the girl's muffled groans and slurps, often interrupted by cruel verbal abuse and hard slaps.

Once they were there, the boys yanked both women out of the car and dragged them to the flogging posts as usual. It was now a tradition to start the party with a flogging. Before Darla was brought in, they often took turns flogging Commoncunt as the others set up the tents and build the fire. After that she was allowed to roam around the camp freely, on all-fours, of course. A master would call her over to fuck her mouth, the next would test her progress in slap-language, then another would fuck her like a dog, and so on and so forth. It was a painful but a simple existence. She didn’t have to think or worry. Just endure.

But everything changed with the introduction of Darla into their usual routines. The first flogging didn’t end that quickly any more. It was now a competition. They didn’t stop until one of them passed out. The first two times, Darla lost after long, devastating beatings. That made Bianca realize that she could save her daughter a lot of pain if she pretended to pass out at one point. Of course, she had to have good timing. Do that too early, and they wouldn’t buy it. She tried it for the first time the previous week. The boys continued to hit her for a while after she went limp, just to make sure. She was able to take the extra impact convincingly, with minimal reaction.

She tried it again. She was nervous at first, but after a particularly pained scream that escaped her daughter’s mouth, she decided to let herself go and play dead. Unfortunately, her timing was awful this time. It was Ronald’s turn to flog her. He didn’t care at all and kept going for another 15 minutes. He didn’t stop until the breakfast was ready. By then Darla was out too.

They were taken to the seating area and took turns serving masters as they ate. The only contact they were allowed to have with each other was the accidental touches while they were crawling from cock to cock.

After a particularly long reaming George gave her, she crawled back to her spot to wait for her next service. She assumed the relaxed waiting position and lowered her eyes respectfully as she was instructed long ago, but she could still see Darla being spitroasted by Arthur and Nate at the far side of the circle. It was the strangest, most confusing feeling. She momentarily felt a strong urge to correct her daughter’s posture as she took dick from both ends. She gasped and shooed the embarrassing thought. Was making her daughter a better slave one of her duties as a mother?

Perhaps?

"Commoncunt! To my hand!"

She jumped when Darren commanded her to approach, quickly crawled over, and presented her face for a quick slapping session. By now she knew well that Darren liked slapping her more than fucking her. It was an odd thing about the boy, but Bianca had learned to enjoy it to some extent. She had realized after all those months that it was not a cruel act. To the contrary, it could be quite intimate. Especially at the camp, she certainly preferred getting faceslapped by Darren to getting faceraped by the others.

Once he’s satisfied with the redness on her cheeks and the tears in her eyes, Darren pulled her onto his knees to dole out a hard spanking. He carefully positioned her to face her daughter so she could watch her getting gangraped. Their eyes met for a moment, but Darla quickly averted her gaze in shame.

“Isn’t she wonderful?” said Darren as he started to hit her bottom without mercy. “She’s like a younger version of you. Fresh, naive. Well-trained, but not completely broken. Her pussy, her asshole, and especially her mouth… you know, they all feel exactly like yours. Only a lot tighter. We started her on the same meds too. Soon she’ll have milk-filled jugs to match yours. There is one major difference, though. She is a much better cocksucker. That dude who used to fuck her face regularly, he trained her well, for sure.” Bianca started to sob. “Ah! don’t you worry, Commoncunt. You are not too bad either.” He pinched her full lips and pulled them around playfully. “I love the way these feel on my dick. You are a great fuck for your age.” He snickered and landed a series of hard ones on both cheeks.

“We have been putting that sweet fuckmeat's pretty head in a mask while transferring her from house to house for the past weeks, but it is still very risky. She is freshly stolen, and I'm sure her owner is rich enough for the SEFR to put some real effort into the investigation. I personally don’t trust those morons Nate and Ronald anyway. They like to invite a lot of strangers to gangbang you, right? They say they never do that with Darla, but I don’t believe them. So I suggested renting a temporary storage thing to keep her in for a while. I’ve seen a few female storage facilities of ill-repute on the road here. Those assholes, they don’t ask a lot of questions if you pay a few extra bucks.

Bianca’s eyes opened wide in fear. Female storage facility? The last time she had heard those three words, it was on TV, in a particularly sad documentary about the lack of safety measures and state regulations in such places. Frequent fires, breakdown of automated feeding systems, abysmal sanitation, lack of basic hygiene, disease… Those things, even the better, regularly inspected ones, were basically death traps. She simply couldn’t bear the thought of her dear daughter being shoved in one of those storage cabinets for the entire week. The possibility terrified her.

“You don’t like that idea?” asked Darren, when he felt her body shiver in panic. “Perhaps you have a better idea, teach. Go on, tell me. You may talk.”

Permission to speak? She was getting it less and less lately. The boys, they just didn’t care about what she had to say. Not that she had anything worthwhile to say. She took a deep breath and thought for a second. She couldn’t simply object to their decision. She was just fuckmeat, after all. But she was once a good teacher who knew how to subtly nudge her students towards specific goals. Could she be able to unlock that old skill?

“Perhaps it would be more convenient if you build your own storage out here, near the campsite,” she blurted without thinking it through. “Maybe… a small cabin to keep her in… Maybe large enough for two. You could… keep both of us in there, when necessary. Leave us… her… food and water?” The idea felt silly immediately. She searched for a better alternative. Anything… just anything but a seedy roadside female storage facility…

“Like a permanent rape-shack?” said Darren. “Perhaps a cabin big enough to put couple beds in there. Store our camping equipment. We’ll keep your tyke in there during the week, use her at the weekends.”

Bianca was surprised that the first stupid suggestion she came up with was attractive enough for Darren. He shared the option with others, and they quickly reached a consensus. Arthur volunteered to design a simple structure and Nate agreed to help build it.

“It’s decided then,” exclaimed George and grabbed the two fuckslaves by their hair. “I say we celebrate this with a relaxing show. Come on, my sweet bitches. Let see some enthusiastic mother-daughter scissoring, eh?”

 

[xxfluffydeathxx]

Holiday Special​

The warm rays of the morning sun found her beautiful face and tickled her button nose. She opened her eyes and looked around drowsily. Her master was still asleep. She raised her butt, arched her back and stretched her arms and fingers, then crawled out of her doggie bed as quietly as possible.

She approached his bed and raised her head to see. A smile appeared on her face when she saw him lying on his back. His cock was fully accessible. She turned to see the alarm clock on the night stand. Two more minutes! Hundred and twenty seconds… Hundred and nineteen… Hundred and eighteen…

He didn’t really need an alarm clock. She was what woke him up every morning. She had been performing that important task since the beginning of their relationship as master and slave. The day he purchased and registered her, he told her clearly that she was to wake him up at 6:15 every day, the proper way a woman should. He said it softly and gently, but with irresistible authority, as if he was casting a magic spell. At least that’s how she remembered it. In her eyes, he was nothing short of a wizard. No, he was a god. His wishes were divine commands. She had to satisfy him no matter how humiliating or painful the task. Luckily, he rarely chose to do anything that made her feel those nasty feelings. Satisfying him fully was its own reward, and it was her life’s purpose.

She kept watching the little screen of the digital clock, her excitement growing with every passing second. When it showed 6:15, she took a deep breath and held it, put her latex glowed paws on the bed and pulled herself up slowly and quietly. She climbed on the bed and positioned herself over his crotch. He slept fully naked. She scanned his athletic figure with wide-eyed admiration for a few seconds and turned her focus on his “morning wood.” His erection was mouthwatering. It was what she existed to serve and please.

He lowered her head and exhaled in anticipation. Her warm breath hit the monster and made it move a bit. She could smell herself on it still. Her pussy ached with longing. He fucked her for hours before he fell asleep the night before, mouth and pussy, pussy and mouth, filling her with his marvellous essence multiple times. He came in her pussy exclusively now. It was his routine since their last visit to the Fem-vet. He wanted to breed her.

She was incredibly proud. He wanted to bless her with his seed, make her the mother of his child. Could there be a bigger honor a god could bestow upon his worthless fucktoy? She prayed every day to be worthy of his incredible generosity. She treasured the spunk he filled her with.

The only downside was, she wan’t allowed to swallow it any more. She missed the taste. She missed the warm liquid love. She missed the feeling of satisfying him with her lips and tongue only.

As she admired his godly erection, he moved in his sleep, possibly because she had been breathing on his bare crotch like a thirsty puppy. His dick raised its head a bit, as if it was startled by her. She couldn’t wait any longer. She stuck out her tongue and started to lick the shaft from base to tip with quiet, delicate strokes. He responded as usual, by moving slightly, but she knew he wouldn’t wake up yet. She had been performing this particular “morning ritual” for a long while. She had perfected it.

She kept licking the steely organ, giving it little angel kisses every now and then. His cock somehow got even bigger and harder. Unable to reign her desire, she eventually took the bulbous head of the thing her mouth and moaned in ecstasy, savored the feeling for a moment, then pushed her head down to swallow its entire length. She rarely lost control like this. Perhaps her growing thirst for his cum was getting to her? Luckily he was still asleep.

She managed to regain control and paced herself. She started to suck him slowly and softly, with loosened lips and patient tongue. Her mouth filled with saliva, intensifying the warm embrace of her face pussy. She sucked and sucked, a tiny bit faster and deeper with every bob of her desire-filled head.

Inevitably, he woke up after a few minutes. He raised his head to look at her, catching her worshipful eyes. He smiled, and she beamed back with her cock-stretched red lips. “Morning my Sweet Angelcunt,” he said and patted her on the head gently. “Happy New Year!”

New year? She had no idea. It meant nothing to her anyway. Every day was “please-him-day” for this little fuckpuppy. Every day was bliss and fun. She’d worship his cock all day, he’d rape her hard whenever he wanted. Every day, every week, every month…

Of course, she knew that this positive outlook and extreme devotion to her master was mostly, if not completely, chemically induced. She wasn’t an idiot at all. To the contrary, she was a very smart young woman, prior to her uncommon journey of enslavement and puppification. She was a chemist, and her job was to synthesize female-control ingredients for food products. She authored a few scientific papers on extra-powerful girlheaters too. She was no longer given food with girlheaters since her master was trying to impregnate her, but she was still on a strict regime of “Submicin,” a powerful mind-altering drug that was developed to turn frigid rapetoys into enthusiastic cockmunchers.

She didn’t mind it at all. Knowing didn’t change anything. She was happy. Devoted. Eager. She was satisfied. Before the fem-vet prescribed the drug, her life was miserable, dark, devoid of hope and joy. She never wanted to go back to that. No, she wanted to live like a dog to please her master. Eat her yummy food from her plastic bowl, kneel at his feet as he rested, suck his cock whenever he wanted. That was the most fulfilling, peaceful likfe. She loved her bowl, she loved her collar, she loved her leash, she even loved the flogger he rarely used. Falling asleep on her doggie bed with his warm cum in her womb and her tummy was the ultimate form of satisfaction. A satisfaction she could have never experienced had she remained a low-level chemist at a major food-processing company.

She felt the change in his reactions. He was about to reach that point of now return. She looked up pleadingly. Would he allow her to swallow his delicious jizz this time?

“Stop!” he commanded, and gave her a thumbs-up. The gesture made her happy momentarily because her brain interpreted as an “attagirl” at first, but she quickly realized that has merely ordering her to get up and shove the organ in her babymaker before he ejaculated. She quickly raised her head, threw her leg over his body, and lowered herself onto his glistening member. She grabbed the thing and guided it head into her excited cockslot. The moment he entered her, she started to shake and spasm, and instantly reached a tiny climax when his entire length was buried in her vaginal canal.

The head of the organ hit her cervix, made her moan loudly like a whore in heat, and exploded a moment later. She felt him throb like crazy deep in side her, squirting load after load into her . It was impossible to feel it, of course, but she could almost see in her mind his bountiful semen filling her young womb like a water balloon. It was another satisfactory feeling she experienced again and again since he started the breeding process.

After filling her to the brim, he grabbed her by the small of her back and rose from the bed without taking his cock out of her primary fuckhole. He moved her petite body up and down his shaft like a masturbatory toy for a while, sending his loyal puppygirl to a higher level of pleasure. Then he rose from the bed and walked out of the bedroom, as he kept pumping the blissed-out slavegirl’s pussy. now totally out of control, she moaned and screamed as he lay her down on the kitchen table and fucked her for minutes until he started to ejaculate again.

He stood there with his cock buried deep inside her belly until his balls were fully drained, then took a big step back. His cock popped out and dropped, with a couple of beads of his seminal fluid still dangling at its tip. Angelcunt felt a strong urge to drop down to her knees and lick ‘em off, but unfortunately no cleaning command was given. He simply turned around and walked towards the fridge to pick up a carton of milk. She sighed quietly before pulling her knees to her stomach and hugging her thighs. It was what the fem-vet told her to do after insemination.

He took a few sips from the milk, then pointed at the stuff at the corner. Angelcunt let out a happy woof. She dropped down off the table, crawled towards the pile of plastic toys and dildos, and returned with her dog bow in her mouth. He poured the remaining milk into her bowl and gave the “drink” command. She woofed yes and lapped it up quickly. She still couldn’t believe that he was feeding her human food instead of slavefeed or pig-cum.

She licked her bowl clean and carried it back to the corner, then returned to receive her well-deserved attagirl pats. At that moment, something magical happened. Just when he was giving her a gentle stroke on the cheek, she was filled with a warm feeling she never experienced before.

She somehow knew.

It was done. She was going to give him a son.

 

[xxfluffydeathxx]

Mystery - 9​

It was the part she loved the most. That pronounced twitch that heralded the approaching big moment. The first spurt to hit her tongue, the warm feeling that came after that, the thick fluid filling her mouth.

She let out an hungry groan when he finally exploded. Hearing herself moan like a whore gave her a jolt of shame for a brief moment, but it didn’t stop her from enjoying her warm viscous reward. With Eddie, she was always proud of her mouthwork. It was the only cock she actually enjoyed sucking. The only one worthy of worship.

“Well done,” he said casually after he finished unloading into her face pussy. “It was great... once again. You truly are an expert.”

Selena blushed and sat back on her heels. She felt silly for enjoying such a simple “attagirl” this much. She was a thirty year-old woman, for cockssake!

“He’s taking his time,” he said after a while.

“Yes Sir.”

Simon Zlochinek, the guy they were tracking, was still drinking at the bar. They were ninety-nine percent sure that he had their client’s sister Della locked-up somewhere nearby. They had his cousin’s phone which contained all the evidence they needed. Based on what they gathered from their rather careless text correspondence, the poor girl was still alive… probably.

“He looked tipsy when he arrived,” she continued. “Our little ruse wouldn’t work if he passes out in there. Perhaps we should…” She paused for a moment. “What is our plan, boss? I mean, if we find the place he’s keeping the client's sister at. Are we going to call the SEFR this time? You’re not thinking about trying to save the girl yourself… again… right?”

“I know, I know,” Eddie waved. “You don’t have to bring up that infamous night again. Of course, I won’t try to-” His eyes sparked with a sudden epiphany. He looked down. “Selena, back at the cabin… Please tell me that you took some of those paralyzing drugs with you?”

Selena paused for a moment, then nodded with a mischievous smile. “Just a handful of ampules, Sir.”

She deserved a pat on the head for this little felony. “Good girl! Come, I have an idea.”

He grabbed her leash and pulled it gently. Were they leaving? “But sir, the guy-”

“Relax. We’re not going far. Just crossing the street. You keep an eye on the door, just in case.”

Selena looked at the spot he pointed at. He was taking her to the shop across the street that sold camping and hunting equipment. She immediately understood what he had in mind.

He tied her leash to the slave post by the door. “Woof if he comes out,” he commanded with a playful smile and went inside. She sat on her heels. Woof if he comes out? After all those years, she remembered how it felt to be a fresh cadet in bitchtraining again. SEFR pups didn’t use woovish to communicate, of course, but their trainer made them woof for ten minutes in their first meet just to mess with them. They were nothing but scared clueless girls. It was rather easy to make them believe they were not allowed to speak ever again.

She remembered the incredible relief she felt when she wasn’t selected for the K19 unit at the end of the basic training. A number of her close friends weren’t that lucky. Those poor cunts! Their poor knees!

Playing a bitch for a few hours was nothing compared to serving for 12 years on all-fours.

Eddie came out five minutes later with a tranq-gun in his hand. “I know, it’s not as fancy as the military grade stuff you gals used, but the guy said it’s the best one a civilian can get. Was a bit expensive.” He chuckled when Selena opened her mouth to say something. “Yeah-yeah, I know what you’re going to say. I'm spending too much. Our profit margin keeps getting slimmer and slimmer.”

“Well yes, but no,” said Selena and pointed at the bar with her nose. “Our guy just left his watering hole. Looks like he isn’t too drunk to walk… for now.”

The man took a few steps towards the nearby lamp post, hugged it, curled over, and started to puke. He exchanged some curse words with a couple of guys who were casually spitroasting a bound girl, then stumbled towards the direction he came from.

“Here we are, tailing another drunk,” Selena commented. “He’s barely conscious. He’ll will be even easier to follow than Posrednik.” She looked up. “Um… Would you mind if I-”

“You don’t want to bitchwalk this time,” smiled Eddie. “Interesting. I clearly remember what you told me before. What was that rule that you condensed into a playful aphorism? You tail with a tail, you said. If you’re following someone, walk a petgirl. They blend in perfectly.”

“Yes, I know what I said… but my knees… They hurt so much. He can't see past his nose anyway, so…”

“Fine!” chuckled Eddie. “I’m just messing with you. Of course, you can walk if you want.” He reached for her cheek and stroke it gently. “It’s a shame, though. You look so beautiful and fuckable when you do the puppy thing.”

“Thank you mast… boss,” she said, blushing like a young bride. She stood up and handed her leash to him.

They followed. Cousin Simus made another stop on the way to throw up and continued to stumble down the road.

“Did you know they actually hunt women with these?” Eddie put the tranq gun in his pocket after placing the bootleg GPAC ampules in the darts. “The guy at the shop, he was a fountain of information. Told me that there are private companies who organize female hunts. Apparently, they provide the equipment and the prey, and men pay generously for the hunting experience. He also mentioned a small wooded area up north where one can hunt his own woman on Wednesdays and Fridays. Is it really legal, this kind of thing?”

Selena nodded. “Yes Sir. I mean, there are legit companies and not-so legal ones. Even big companies do it. I’ve personally seen a slut safari organized by Cuntmatch when I was going out for patrols.”

“Really? Cuntmatch, the voluntary slave-matching company?”

“Yes sir. Not all women who apply can find their dream masters. Some end up as prey for these events. Fine print in the contract and all that, you know. They release those unfortunate females in the woods or some abandoned urban area. They give them a ten minute head start and then paying customers hunt them down with tranq weapons like this. Hey rape them right there on the spot, or take them home. It’s very expensive, but quite popular among the well-off city folk on the coast.

She stopped for a moment when Zlochinek turned a corner. They picked up to pace to catch up.

“You can imagine, that revenue pie must be mouth-watering for criminals, of course. They round up public slaves to use as prey in unauthorized hunts, sometimes kidnap freewomen too. I heard a couple of horror stories from a sister from Randyville HQ. There’s at least one gang over there that prefers real weapons like bows and arrows, sniper rifles, and…”

“Hold on,” Eddie interrupted. “I think we arrived.”

Zlochinek stopped in the middle of the road and looked around confusedly, then walked up to a door. He looked for his keys for a while and stumbled inside after a long struggle to unlock the door.

“Alright,” Exhaled Eddie and pulled the tranq gun out of his pocket. “Let’s do this.”



* * *

Della opened her eyes in terror, her fever dream interrupted by the now familiar squeak of the floorboards upstairs. Her real nightmare had returned. She could hear him stagger and lumber around aimlessly. He must have been drinking all night. It certainly wasn’t good news for her. He tended to beat her more when he was drunk out of his mind. He often had problems getting an erection, or maintaining it long enough. When such an unfortunate malfunction happened, he'd pick up that horrible flogger instead, of course. If he failed to rape her properly, he'd whip her, tits and crotch, ruthlessly, only to stop occasionally to threehole her with the flogger’s oddly shaped handle.

She bit on her gag and clenched her fingers nervously as he made his way to the toilet and emptied his bladder. He walked around a bit but eventually ended up at the top of the stairs that lead to her cell. She struggled against her restraints as she always did, even though she knew well that it was pointless. Frustrated, she tried to calm down and relax her spasming muscles.

Her wrists and ankles ached like hell, but the worst part was the gag. It was now soaked through with his cum, so it reeked of rape. It also hurt her jaw and made her drool incessantly. She hated it the most.

He began walking down the stairs with an erratic pace, slapping the walls along the way to keep his balance. When he finally arrived, he kept stabbing the door with the key for a bit until he finally found the hole. Della closed her eyes the moment the key turned in the lock as she was instructed to do.

There was no escape. Another violent rape was about to begin. She couldn’t believe this was going to be her life now. And this was how it was going to end soon.

He entered and immediately dropped his pants, attempted to get it up, failed, then grabbed the flogger and started to hit her on the tits without warning. She screamed in surprise when the first couple lashes landed but managed to control herself for the rest of the unexpected beating. Luckily he was too tired to hit her with full force. Having fully exhausted himself, he dropped the flogger on her belly and climbed on top of her, crushing her young fragile body under his weight. He was not erect, but his penis still felt big and heavy on her slit. He started to rub it around her timid crotch. She could feel the damned thing slowly filling with blood.

After a while he decided that it was hard enough to penetrate his defenseless rapetoy. He grabbed the thing and placed in her young womanhood with the dexterity of a narcoleptic sloth. Once the bulbous head of the semi-erect instrument of torture managed to peek inside after a long struggle, he pushed it in without mercy. It hurt like hell. She screamed into her gag. As always, her reaction amused the drunk asshole.

“My cousin got his new fucktoy today,” he said as he started to fuck her with an erratic pace. Della was surprised. He rarely spoke during rapes. Perhaps he was too drunk this time? “I’ve seen that chick’s pics,” he continued. “Truly gorgeous piece of ass. Motherfucker invited me for drinks, but then cancelled on me to keep raping the bitch. I fully understand of course. No better feeling than ripping into a mint condition fuckmeat. We had that once, didn’t we, my stupid rapetoy?” He raised himself a bit to slap her hard across the face. “Unfortunately, you no longer have that new whore smell that I love so much. These fuckholes of yours, they are still tight and wet enough, sure… but I’m kinda getting bored of them.”

He was getting bored of her holes? Della opened her eyes wide and looked at him in terror. He grinned. “I think it’s time to find something new, eh? It’s time to get rid of you, stupid whore, whatever your name is.” He put his hands around her slender neck and started squeezing slowly. “I’m sure Tomas will let me play with his new toy until I find a replacement. He cannot refuse. After all, he loves my bootleg GPAC recipe so much. you remember that, don't you? I certainly remember enjoying the pain in your eyes.”

As he squeezed, he got harder and harder in her. Della tried to scream and beg in vain. Her weak pleas would have been muffled by the gag anyway, even if she had any air in her lungs to produce intelligible words. Nevertheless, the monster would have ignored her, even if she could. No, he'd certainly enjoy it.

He picked up the pace. His cock was getting bigger, harder, and faster, as the world around her got darker. She choked and sputtered. She could now feel that he was about to ejaculate. Was it really the end of her miserable existence?

Suddenly, she had a brief moment of calm and clarity. She heard a faint rustling sound coming from upstairs, that somehow managed to slip through the loud squeaks of the old bed she was restrained on, and the heavy panting of the rabid monster choke-fucking her. That ghostly presence came closer and closer, climbed down the stairs and entered her cell. Perhaps it was a trick her oxygen-deprived brain was playing on her?

Her mind was about to shut down. Just before it went all dark, she heard a popping sound. This time it was unmistakable. Her rapist’s coarse hands relaxed suddenly and let her bruised neck go. Air rushed into her lungs. The fatso shook for a moment and collapsed on her battered body, squeezing that air out again. Her ribs somehow managed to absorb the brutal impact. She felt the strange presence by the bed now. Something… or someone grabbed the unconscious asshole crushing her and pulled him off. He rolled out of the bed and slammed on the floor, sending a few empty beer bottles bouncing around the room.

She opened her eyes and tried to understand what was happening. A blurry silhouette loomed over her and gradually took the shape of a man. Was he… an angel?

“Della! Della Felenk? Can you hear me?”

The sound of her own name ringing in her ears gave her mind a much needed jolt. She reopened her eyes and looked up to her savior.

“Take it easy, Della,” he said with a smile as he started to free her limbs from their restraints. “Your sister sent us. You’ll be okay.”

Her brain still recovering from the ordeal, she had difficulty understanding what he was saying. Still, she somehow knew that this was not part of the nightmare she was stuck in for the past week or so. “Thank you, kind angel,” She mumbled with an intoxicated smile, before passing out from exhaustion.