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[Erenisch] Novella.

Slavecop Academy 18: Threeholing​


He grabbed her by the hair and yanked her off the desk. He then dragged her to the bed and pushed her onto it. Willow landed on her back like a ragdoll, took a deep breath, and dutifully parted her legs. He took one last sip from his drink, climbed on the bed, and penetrated her primary. He began fucking her in a steady pace, starting the cycle anew. She knew that he’d switch to her secondary in a few minutes, and eventually shove it in her mouth. Then he’d rest for a while before entering her pussy once more. It was how it was done according to the BFA regulations.

Yes, Master-Agent Yeoman was an unusual character, but he still raped by the book.

“Do you know why it’s called a ‘threeholing,’ Cadet Whoreswine?”

Willow hesitated. Was that a trick question? The answer was simple and straightforward. “Because… we cunts have three holes, and-”

“Incorrect,” said Yeoman as he continued to fuck the spreadeagled cadet in her inexperienced womanhood with a slow tempo. “You don’t HAVE three holes. You ARE three holes. But that wasn’t my question. I asked why do we call utilizing a woman in all her main cockslots ‘threeholing’ and not something else.”

Once again, the question confused the girl. The answer seemed obvious.This time she took a few seconds to think before replying. “To make sure the female knows that none of her holes would be spared?”

“Exactly. It’s a precise statement. It makes clear for everybody involved that she is fully owned, subjugated. That she cannot resist, stop, bargain, weasel her way out of it… That she has absolutely no will, power, or agency.” He quickened his thrusts for a few seconds until he came inside her for the third time since the beginning of her utilization.

Willow did her best to squeeze her pubic muscles to enhance his pleasure. He didn’t even command her to do so. It was instinct, pure and simple. He paused for a moment after the climax, but didn't pull out. Instead he continued to fuck her with a slower tempo.

“I know, civilians tend to use the term casually to mean ‘raping thoroughly.’ Technically, that’s not wrong. Men like to scare girls with the word, and it surely works. But that's far from its original purpose. When the BFA coined it years ago, it wasn’t meant to threaten or scare. It was a purely technical term, written in small font.”

Wil knew well what “small font” meant of course. “Intended for men, not females.” The tomes girls were allowed to read were printed in big bold letters, almost like children’s books, in blatantly condescending simplicity. She always hated that. She wasn’t entirely sure if Andros genuinely thought females were less intelligent than men, or if it was just another cruel way of systematically humiliating them. It probably wasn't an either-or question.

“I remember that section in the manual well,” Yeoman continued. “Regardless of personal preferences, all three of the female’s main orifices must be utilized in proper sequence for a meaningful length of time in order to establish proper and clear dominance. That was more or less what it said. Threeholing was not supposed to be said aloud, just regularly demonstrated.” He slowed down and pulled out of her overflowing vagina. “Regardless of personal preferences,” he repeated, and forced his hard cock into her anal opening once again. Lubed with her juices and his, it easily defeated her sphincter this time.

Willow now knew that it wasn’t his favorite hole to fuck. It meant pain for the girl, and boredom for the man. But it had to be done. The BFA procedures were clear about that. All three holes, in proper order, for a meaningful length of time.

“I had a similar talk with your friends when I was threeholing them for the first time,” he said after a while. "The blonde, Rapetoy, had a very interesting take on this. She was quite shy for the first few times, of course. It took a lot of hard slaps to make her focus and respond properly, but once she managed to stop crying, she shared some insights that inspired me to think about the concept again after all those years.” He sped up and deepened his thrusts. “Can you guess what she said, Whoreswine?”

Wil bit her lip and shook her head.

“She suggested that threeholing could be an attempt to test and train a woman in three main aspects she has to excel in. You know, we say women exist to please, to suffer, and to obey. Each hole corresponds to one of those major components of female existence. Pleasure can be associated with your vaginas, pain and humiliation with your buttholes, and obedience with your oral performance. Sounded plausible to me. What do you think, Cadet Whoreswine?”

“I… This cunt thinks… It’s makes a lot of sense, Master,” she replied, her face contorted in agony. He was now fucking her in the ass a lot harder and faster, possibly because of the excitement boost he got from the rather one-sided exchange.

“That’s why I like all-nighting cadets one by one,” he continued. “Each one of you gorgeous fucktoys provide a unique perspective. Every single one is interesting in some way. Take your other schoolmate Cadet Dickinggdoll, for example… you know, the bitch-born… She’s full of colorful stories about petwomen, woofers and talkers alike. All very entertaining and interesting. So entertaining, in fact, I had to rape her for two nights in a row so I could listen to them all.”

He checked his watch and then pulled his cock out of Wil’s butthole. She sighed in relief. Amused, he slid onto her well-endowed chest and gently placed his dick between her full lips. She reluctantly opened her mouth as wide as possible for him to shove it in. It was time to finish this threeholing cycle. He immediately pushed into her throat and started to pound her head into the bed.

“I sampled my share of K19s throughout my service of course, but I never owned a dedicated quadruped myself,” he continued as his captive struggled to breathe. “Now I’m considering buying one. Maybe a Cummypaws-trained pup… Or perhaps I’ll buy a mint condition teen and train her myself? I heard it’s rather hard and time-consuming, but ultimately very rewarding.”

Finally reduced to nothing but a simple fuckhole, Willow was overwhelmed by the man’s ruthless pummeling of her throat. Unfortunately, it took him a lot longer to climax this time. He must have been getting numb too, she guessed. She herself was certainly feeling the effects of the prolonged utilization. He was gracious enough to allow her an orgasm during her first threeholing, but it went downhill after that point. All her holes were sore and aching. She felt nothing but pain and discomfort, even while he was doing her in the primary.

Yeoman was tired too. He could have stopped fucking her face and rest a bit, but he was a stubborn perfectionist. He continued to pump her mouth for a long while, until he finally exploded for the last time. Willow was at the brink of passing out, but she managed to swallow his last loads. The man pulled out and collapsed backwards with empty balls, almost fully spent himself.

Both needed some time to catch their breaths. Eventually she rose from where she lay and assumed the proper waiting position on her knees. She wasn’t sure if the utilization was over, and if she was allowed to remain on the bed while she rested. When no clear order came, she decided to stay put. She didn’t want to screw up after surviving three hard threeholings without an incident.

“Don’t worry, you’ve done well, Cadet Whoreswine,” said the man without opening his eyes. He was ready to go to sleep. “Not a spectacular performance, but good enough. Definitely deserves a tank top, perhaps leggings too.”

“Thank you, Master” exclaimed the girl, unable to suppress a smile. Finally, an end to her growing shame.

“Don’t get too excited,” he grinned. “Of course there is a catch. The items you earn, you’ll go and take from your besties. Your gain is their loss.”

Willow’s smile quickly faded as his smirk widened. “Now tell me, Whoreswine,” he pressed on, "who’s it gonna be?”
 
Follows The Contract
------------------------------

The Proposal​


“Masterless slut Necia, could you come over please?”

Shani’s voice rising out of her communicator pulled Sofia out of her trance. She dreaded that little device disguised as a necklace. All four of Ulfbock’s “trainees” had to carry one of these day and night, so they’d be reachable for their prospective owner at all times. Sophia was given a red one that looked like a rose.

“I’ll be right there,” she whispered into it and rose from her desk. She was tired. It was the thirteenth day of her “executive enslavement track” evaluation. Ulfbock had been utilizing her more and more frequently lately. She was doing quite fine, considering. She was serving as enthusiastically as possible, and he seemed pleased with her performance. She worked well with others too. Shani, Hannah and Juliana were all friendly and pleasant as they were impossibly gorgeous. They made a very good team, both in and out of the raperoom.

The evaluation process wasn’t exactly how she expected it to be. It wasn’t simply an incessant series of sexual intercourse and beatings. Ulfbock spent a surprising amount of time talking to them, listening to their stories, even asking them insightful questions about their lives. Sofia was certainly flabbergasted by the details the man knew about her. She knew that he had the company detectives prepare a report on the girls on EET, but he seemed genuinely interested in certain intimate details about her. Sometimes, their conversations felt like “romantic first dates”… often bookended with intense rapes, of course.

He seemed to appreciate her conversational skills a lot, but she was also a good fucktoy too. During work hours, he utilized her often, and hard. He took her home for all-nighters two days in a row, once together with Shani, and once alone. She wasn’t ready for it at all. She had “all-nighters” before, of course. She was used and abused by classmates countless times In law school. Once she was taken to a secluded cabin by one of professors to serve him for an entire week. Here at the firm, she was kept overnight to entertain coworkers more times than she remembered.

But with Mr Ulfbock, the term “all-nighter” had an entirely different meaning. He had a huge state-of-the-art rape dungeon equipped with devilish devices Sofia had never seen or heard of before. He had a number of high-tech pre-programmed machines that can autonomously undress, restrain, rape, and torture women. He didn’t even need to lift a finger. Just sit back with a glass of whiskey, and watch those soulless robots abuse his victims. It was his idea of foreplay.

He also had a large number of antiques in his collection. Those medieval contraptions certainly looked much more scarier than the slick rape-bots, and Sofia was glad that her future master was too lazy to use them.

The first time he picked her, she served together with a fellow trainee, sharing the burden. Ulfbock didn’t put her in one of the auto-violators and raped her in a more or-less traditional way, mostly vaginally and orally. Shani, on the other hand, had to spend some time in the machines, and Sofia was tasked with ‘soft-and-slow’ing the boss as he enjoyed the show. Later in bed, the women served together, shared cock, and even entertained the man with intermittent sapphic performances. None of these ordeals were completely new to Sofia of course, but she wasn’t ready for the frequency and the intensity with which she had to perform. The boss was certainly on some kind of performance enhancer. He was hard, ready, and full of energy throughout the night. Even when he was asleep, he kept getting frequent boners, which the girls were ordered to watch for and take care of without waking him up. And that was the most difficult task of all. The pressure was incredible.

Of course, they eventually woke him up at 6:30 with the proper morning rituals.” As the one with prior experience, Shani took the lead with that. Ulfbock was right. The girl was an exceptional cocksucker. Sophia observed her prospective slave sister work her magic for a few minutes and learned the man’s preferences, before eventually joining in. She certainly wasn’t a beginner in pleasing men either. At the end, he was visibly delighted with the duo’s well-coordinated performance.

The next day, she was relieved when she wasn’t one of the sexretaries summoned to the boss’s office for the regular end-of-shift rape. She finished her non-EET work early and waited patiently for the official permission to leave. She was happy to be left alone after that intense all-nighter, and couldn’t wait to return to her tiny apartment and spend the evening lazily soaking in her bathtub. All her holes and muscles were sore. She needed to recharge so badly.

Her misplaced optimism shattered a few minutes later when the boss picked her butt again from the line-up. Two times in a row? That was certainly unusual. And this time, she didn’t have anybody to share the pain with.

As she performed a soft-and-slow during the car ride home, she kept running scary scenarios through her mind. Would he put her in one of those auto-violators? Would he torture her with those medieval torture machines?

She got lucky. Neither happened. To the contrary, he didn’t hurt her at all this time. Not even light flogging, faceslapping, or spanking. Instead, he told her to cook for him, serve beverages, and give him a long, relaxing bath. She of course gave him blowjobs as he kicked back with a book, made some phone calls, and watched the news on TV. He properly threeholed her once before bed, and again after the morning rituals. Of course, she topped it off with one last soft-and-slow on the car ride to the office.

She expected to be grabbed, thrown to the wall, and ruthlessly pummeled at every stage, but he never got violent throughout. It was almost like a romantic evening with a lover.

That was the night before. Now, almost at the end of another work day, she was summoned to the boss’s office once again. It was still too early for the end-of-day rape and final line-up, so she didn’t know what the reason could be. She wasn’t utilized since that morning, left alone to finish up her paperwork and focus on “theoretical” training. It was the respite she needed. She assumed that he was cleansing his palate with Shani, Juliana or Hannah after spending two days with her.

He certainly wouldn’t pick her for another all-nighter… Or… would he?

“Sofia! Over here!”

She turned around to spot Shani’s tall, slender figure standing in front of the main meeting room. The sexretary waved her over with a smile and opened the door. “Don’t be nervous,” she whispered in her ear as she walked by.

A small group of men turned to her when she stepped inside. Ulfbock was at the head at the table, with Juliana between his legs. The others also had their own sexretaries and office sluts quietly and dutifully serving them. Sofia held her breath and froze like a deer in headlights.

“Masterless slut Necia!” Ulfbock exclaimed. “Welcome.”

“Thank you, Sir,” she said and forced a smile. “How may I be of assistance?”

“Congratulations! You made it.”

“Excuse me, Sir. I… made it? I don’t understand.”

Ulfbock smiled and pointed to the man sitting next to him. She recognized Mr Gregory, a prominent S2C lawyer. “I’ll let Frank break the good news, Sofia.”

“Yes, Sir. Good afternoon, Mr Gregory.”

“Masterless slut Sofia Necia,” the portly man started with his gravelly voice and put his finger on the paper in front of him. “Twenty-six years old. Second four-year permit is about to expire in… 4 days.” He looked up for confirmation. Sofia’s eyes widened. She almost forgot about that.

“Yes Sir,” she nodded.

“Nervous about that, slut Necia?”

“I g-guess,” she stuttered, quickly checking her boss’s expression for a clue about what was happening. He had a poker face on. “I have a freedom savings account. I’m a bit short, but I believe I can find the money in time.” She swallowed. “But… I thought… Since I was put on the EET…”

The man interrupted her with a dismissive wave. “Yes, we know about your savings account. Not much in there, and you certainly will not be able to find the money in time, masterless slut Necia.” He opened a manila envelope and placed a stack of documents on the table, then fanned them out in a dramatic way. “This is all you have, Necia. Your assets. Your savings account. The unlawful kidnapping and confinement insurance you took a couple years ago but failed to pay for the past seven months, a few pieces of furniture and personal items with little market value…”

“I don’t understand, Sir,” Sofia mumbled. “Why are you-”

“We compiled all this information to make sure your S2C transition runs smoothly, masterless slut Necia,” interrupted the man “I’m sure you understand that all of your assets will be absorbed into Mr Ulfbock’s when you are assetized yourself.”

“Hold on,” Ulfbock interjected with a smile “It was a mistake. I should’t let you do this, Frank. You’re always too professional. This is a special occasion. You’re scaring my future bride with this overly clinical attitude.”

Sofia’s eyes widened. Did he just say... bride?

“As you wish,” Gregory replied and turned back to the stunned young woman. “Masterless slut Necia. Long story short, your EET was successful. Mr Ulfbock decided to finalize the evaluation process ahead of schedule and offer you a chance to surrender to him before your permit expires. If you choose to do so, you’ll be enslaved immediately as the designated harem favorite and wife with full tax exemption.” He dropped his pen on the table and leaned back. “What is your answer?”

Sofia froze for an embarrassingly long time. The men seemed to enjoy the shock on her blushing face. After an eternity, she managed to swallow and utter a few words.

“This… I’m… Sir… are you… proposing?”

“I guess I am,” Ulfbock laughed out loud. “Technically, this is kind of a marriage proposal, isn’t it?”

“Not exactly,” objected Gregory sullenly. “We're not prepared for a marriage process. For the procedure to run smoothly, slut Necia has to surrender first. You can upgrade her status to slave-wife after the enslavement process is-”

“Oh, shut up, Frank,” waved the boss with a hearty laugh “You are ruining the moment. You need to be a little bit more romantic, eh?”

Gregory threw his hands in the air and made a face. Ulfbock turned back to Sofia. “What do you say, slut Necia? Will you be my tax-exempt personal cocksleeve?”



------------------------------------
Continued in
The Promise
 
Follows The Proposal
------------------------------

The Promise​


“Congratulations, Sofia.”

“T-thank you, Shani.” She managed to smile to her fellow trainee as she passed her by. Fellow trainee? She no longer was one. She raised her hand and touched the restrainium band snugly hugging her slender neck. There it was, a small metal button, cold to touch.

She was now a slave. A slave-wife, to be exact.

A law school graduate and paralegal with years of experience, she knew that this simple black choker wasn’t just a passive symbol of her new status as property. It was a sophisticated ID-tag and tracker. It also contained a mini computer and tiny GPAC stingers that can paralyze her if she attempted to remove it.

Like every other female in Pussiana, she had seen it in her nightmares countless times. It got a lot worse when she had seen with her own eyes what kind of pain it could induce whenever it was triggered. Harrowing scenes that only strengthened her resolve to do anything and everything she could to avoid it.

But now, as she followed her new husband and master Mr Ulfbock to his office, she didn’t even feel it there. When Ulfbock took out an expensive custom made band out of its box and wrapped around her shivering neck a few minutes ago, she held her breath and braced for the worst. She expected it to burn her sensitive pale skin or choke her, but nothing like that happened. Just a quiet poof and a click, and she was banded.

A mere click, to turn a freewoman into a slave. She had seen it happen many times of course, but none of that was enough to prepare her for the emotional avalanche she found herself under once she crossed that thin black restrainium line.

Ulfbock unlocked the door to his office and held it open for her. She was confused by the unusual gesture for a moment, but timidly stepped in and stood at the center of the office. He locked the door behind him, then walked over to the comfy chairs by the large window.

“Come here, Sofia. Don’t be a stranger.”

She forced a smile and approached her boss-slash-husband-slash-master.

Boss? Was she still a femployee at the firm, she wondered.

“Take your clothes off. Keep the heels.”

“Yes Sir… m-m-master…” she stammered. Finally, there was no ambiguity about how to address him. She started to unbutton her top, rather clumsily. After serving him in every way possible as a mindless fucktoy for about two weeks, she was suddenly and inexplicably back at square one. Shivering like a shy virgin on her wedding night.

“On your knees. Put your head on my leg.”

She quickly placed her clothes on the empty chair he was sitting across and gracefully dropped onto her knees. She placed her left cheek on his leg and looked up with sad puppy eyes. She was at the brink of crying, and she didn’t know exactly why. He patted her on the head, then proceeded to undo her hair bun. He started to stroke her red mane gently. Sofia’s confusion kept growing. She felt like a domesticated pet at that very moment, rather than a sex slave or a wife, but she wasn’t complaining. Soon a strange calm and peace took over her body and mind. She liked it there.

Perhaps this slave-wife thing wasn’t going to be as bad as she feared?

“How do you feel, Sofia?” asked the man after a long, relaxing silence. “I know you have been thinking about this since the moment I made you sign the EET contract. Now it’s real. You are a slave. A property, with no will, no agency, no freedom. Your only purpose is to obey, serve and please me.”

He wanted to know how she felt? Another unexpected move. “I feel… relief,” she replied softly. “When you placed the band around my neck back there… I was overwhelmed. Felt a lot of things… Horror and panic among them. But as soon as you brought me here and locked that door… all those negative thoughts faded into white noise. I felt relieved. You took away my free will. That means I cannot make any bad choices any more, doesn’t it? It’s… very liberating.”

“You sound surprised, “ laughed the man. “What you’re describing is the liberation through slavery hypothesis. That’s from Matryschek, isn’t it? It was in your EET reading list.”

“Yes master,” she replied, hoping he’d continue to stroke her hair. Should she beg for it? “It’s one thing to read it in a book… But yes, I do feel it… I feel kind of liberated. I have been worrying about everything, all my life…” She looked up and smiled. “Thank you for the gift of serenity, master.”

“Master? Strange, my late wife used to call me…” He stopped mid sentence. Sofia heard the now familiar tinge of sorrow in his voice. He always sounded sad whenever he mentioned his wife. It humanized him in her eyes. “It doesn’t matter. I think it’s more appropriate for you to call me ‘master’ for now. Perhaps in the future…”

“Yes master,” she smiled. He was stroking her hair again.

“We fell in love and got married long before the revolution, Selina and I,” he continued. Sofia swallowed nervously. Like all females in Pussiana, she was well-conditioned to avoid talking about pre-revolutionary period. He didn’t seem to notice her momentary unease. “We had a wonderful marriage too. Even after the enactment of the CFSL, I never considered enslaving Selina. I built my harem around her. I let her pick the girls, I let her use and abuse them. They served her more than they served me. It was her harem, to be honest.”

“That’s why you got rid of them after the accident,” Sofia said.

He paused and looked down when she said ‘accident.’ Sofia immediately regretted mentioning it.

“Correct,” he nodded after a long moment. “This time, I’m following my own instincts and tastes. I’m picking the girls I want to fuck.” He stroke her cheek gently, grabbed her by the hair and lifted her chin up with his other hand. “And you are the best one I found so far. I like you a lot, Sofia. You are very interesting, exceptionally pleasant to talk to, and an absolute delight to rape. Sometimes you remind me of my Selina. Especially when you smile.”

“Thank you, master,” she exhaled. She liked the praise. A lot.

She felt wet like never before. Was he going to fuck her or what?

“Come here,” he ordered, and parted his legs. “Give me a good one. You’re very good at it.”

“Yes master.” She took her place and unzipped his pants, took out his hardened penis, and began licking the shaft the way he enjoyed. It immediately put her in the mood, in that familiar headspace. She liked his dick a lot. It was definitely one of the best looking ones she had ever served. He was always clean and well-groomed too.

“Not a soft-and-slow,” he clarified. “Do your worst. Surpass yourself.”

“Yes master,” she exhaled and took the organ in her mouth. She genuinely wanted to do that. Surpass herself. Give him maximum pleasure.

She did. In a few minutes, he exploded in her mouth with a loud groan. She looked up with a mouth full of cum. She was proud of her performance.

“Well done,” he smiled. “You may swallow.”

She gulped her warm reward down. “Thank you, master.”

“Come sit on my cock. In your primary, hands behind your back.”

“Yes, master.” She stood up, opened her legs, and lowered herself onto his steely rod. With her wrists joined at the back, she managed to grab it with her pussy in her second try. He leaned further back to have a better view of her beautiful slender form. She started to move up and down his shaft like a good girl.

She loved it. She loved the sensation itself a lot, but mostly she liked the way his face changed as she fucked him. For the first time since their ‘contractual coupling’ began, she was enjoying the act this much. Was it the band? The ring? Or perhaps the simple fact that he was treating her like a human? It didn’t matter. She decided to stop worrying and enjoy the dick.

He came again after a while. She sat on it and took the ejaculation deep inside, then attempted to lift herself up. He immediately grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back down. His big fat cock hit her cervix again. She let out a loud groan. Without letting her go, he swung forward and stood up, carried her to her desk and dropped her on her back. He started to fuck her again, even harder and deeper this time. “You may climax, as many times as you want,” he exhaled as he pounded her pussy without mercy.

She did, perhaps two or three times, before he exploded once more. He paused with his cock buried deep inside her for a long moment, caught his breath, then pulled it out. His organ popped out and dropped like a mallet, glistening with her juices.

“On your knees. Clean it up.”

She didn’t need to be told twice. She dropped off the desk, took the organ in her mouth, and started to suck it enthusiastically once again. It was a clear command just to clean it, but she managed to make him cum on more time anyway.

He pulled out, stumbled back and collapsed onto his chair. Sofia swiftly followed and knelt by him without waiting the command to do so. She was ready to perform whatever he wanted next.

“I knew I made the correct choice,” he restarted after a long moment. “You’ll make a great wife.” He caressed her cheek. She smiled. “I know you are going to serve me well.”

“Yes master,” she said, eagerly.

“Just promise me one thing, Sofia. You won’t leave me.”

Sofia was confused. “Leave you? I don’t understand, master. I’m your property. How can I possibly leave you?”

“I think you should better know,” he said with a sad voice. “Selina… it wasn’t…” He hesitated. “The accident… She drove off a cliff. And I believe... it was on purpose.”

Sofia gasped.

“You see, she wasn’t happy. She was never happy. I tried everything to cheer her up. I built a fucking harem to please her, like I said. That was not an exaggeration. But you see, some people cannot be happy no matter what, I guess.”

“Sorry,” Sofia mumbled. She didn’t know how to handle this sudden emotional twist.

“I never enslaved her, but she still belonged to me,” he continued, now with a more ominous tone. “How could she do that? Nobody can do that to me, Sofia. I owned her. She existed to please me.”

“Yes, master, of c-course,” Sofia stammered. He was getting scarier by the second.

“Now you belong to me too. You understand your purpose, don’t you? You exist to please me. Nothing else!”

“Yes, master,” she wheezed.

“You wouldn’t do something like that, would you? Take the easy way out? Disobey my commands? go against the natural order?”

“No-no, m-master… p-p-please.”

Ulfbock suddenly realized that he was choking her. He opened his fist and let her neck go. Sofia dropped back down on her heels and coughed.

“Yes, you wouldn’t,” he said and leaned back. “You aren’t an ungrateful whore like her. You are obedient, enthusiastic, and giving.” He seemed calmer now. A long awkward silence followed.

“But I cannot be sure, can I?”

“Master, you can. I would never…”

“Silence,” he ordered. “You may think that way now… but people change. I had, and certainly she had. You will too.” He leaned forward and stroke her hair once again. As gently as before, but not with the same calming effect. “I cannot take that chance. Not again. That’s why I’m going to set a date for your FR, sweetheart. Your 30th birthday, about four years from now. Midnight.”

“An FR date?” she stammered in horror. “But master… please?”

“I won’t take any chances this time. Let another whore pull the same crap… You are going to do what I say, exactly, without hesitation. And when the time comes, I’ll decide how to end it. I, Erhard Ulfbock, not a simple cunt.”

Sofia started sobbing.

“There there,” he patted her on the head. “Don’t be sad, sweetheart. You have four long years of service you can look forward to. And I promise, I’ll keep you safe, healthy, well-fed, and satisfied until the end of your life.” He reached down and lifted her chin to look into her teary eyes. “And who knows, if you serve me exceptionally well and prove yourself to be indispensable, I may postpone that day for a year or two. What do you say? Can you do that?”

“Yes, master,” she nodded in panic. “This simple cunt will do her absolute best to please and satisfy you.”
 

Slavecop Academy 19: Simulators​


“Cadetcunts, halt!”

River’s line of ducklings immediately stopped in front of the double winged door. A collective gasp rose from the group when the sign over it lit up. “Cunthound simulators 1-4.”

Agent-slave Tramplemat punched a code into the lock. The door opened with a loud screech and rows of fluorescent lamps came alive one after another. The slavecop slapped River on the butt instead of giving a proper march order. She often did stuff like that when no male supervisors were around.

River led the line of cadets inside. She was now the highest decorated member of her group of recruits. “Decorated” in the literal sense. She earned one clothing item after another as rewards for her achievements and managed to complete a full set of uniform before their first week was over. The uniform didn’t give her any special immunity at rapes and floggings, of course, but it was a highly visible indicator of success in this place. The better you performed as a trainee, the more of your body you were allowed to cover.

It was like the amount of semen you received on your face during regular gangrapes. It was another physical representation of male approval.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t enjoy her perfect uniform longer than a day. She was soon ordered to surrender her tank top to her friend Willow, now Cadet Whoreswine, as a reward for the latter’s exemplary performance serving Master-Agent Yeoman. Daphne too, lost her leggings in the same awkward three-way exchange.

River understood why Yeoman chose to put her and her two best friends in a zero-sum game like this, of course. It was a test of their relationship, a blatant move to create resentment between the besties. To create and reinforce loyalty to the corps, they first had to destroy personal bonds between the girls. They were no longer a group of friends, but a bunch of drones serving the Androcracy.

And Androcracy was a jealous god.

She could see through his ploy, but it didn’t help at all. She still resented Willow a little for taking away her top, knowing full well that her friend had no other choice. To make sure it worked, Yeoman ordered the exchange in front of all the other girls, who were mostly fully naked themselves. It was nothing short of a humiliation ritual.

Even without her top, River was still the apparent leader of her group. She led the “duckling line” during training and relayed orders to her dorm at lockdown. She was proud of her position. She was the teacher’s pet. She liked the metaphorical and physical pats on the head. It wasn’t just empty “attagirls.” Good girls were rewarded with “reductions” too. Five lash reduction for an exemplary bitchwalk posture, ten lash reduction for an enthusiastic blowjob… These were the things she worked hard for. And these were the things she was afraid to lose. A top today, a pair of boots tomorrow, and she could end up in the duckling line. No, she wasn’t going to allow that to happen, no matter what.

“Make four lines!” ordered AS Tramplemat and switched the main computer system on. The girls quickly separated into four groups behind the simulators that looked like cheap theme-park versions of the dreaded SEFR aerocars. The cabins shook and hummed lazily as their control panels lit up. A few girls chuckled when they noticed the crash test dummies on the pilot seats.

“Cadetcunts, meet Mr. Bates, Baron Suckoff, Dr Wankman, and Jack. These four distinguished gentlemen will be your trainers today.” She smirked and pressed a button. Pistons moved and cogs turned, the dummies on the pilot seats leaned back a bit. Then four silicone covered mechanical pistons protruded out of their lifeless plastic crotches, eventually forming big, fat, scary erections. “You see, they are very happy to see you,” chuckled Tramplemat. River wondered how many times the slavecop had made the same joke before.

Their mischievous instructor pressed a few more buttons and climbed down from the elevated control platform that all four simulators faced. She walked over to number two, and perched on the seat next to the fully erect dummy. “My favorite is Baron Suckoff,” she smiled, pointing at the badly drawn old-timey mustache on its blank face. “He was the illegitimate son of an evil aristocrat in 20th century Chattelande. Grew up poor in the crime-ridden back alleys of Priam, built his own gang, avenged his mother by killing his father, claimed his fortune, then found god, dropped everything, immigrated to Pussiana and dedicated himself to training miserable cunts like you.” She leaned in and kissed the dummy on the cheek. “And he is such a forceful lover. He puts the cock in the word cockpit.”

A few of the girls chuckled at her words, which widened Tramplemat’s smug smile. “These simulators will teach you two things,” she continued, tapping on the computer screen in front of her with her slender fingers. “First, navigation. Navigation and tracking, to be exact. The master-agent flies the vehicle, and his sidecunt assists him in every way possible. We plot flight courses, run the comms, search databases, locate and track runners…” She paused and wiped off the thin layer of dust collected on the monitor. “Don’t worry. This thing isn’t that difficult to operate. It’s simplified and optimized for the female brain capacity and skill level. Big letters and icons, simple buttons, an easy to navigate operating system. An idiot can use it.”

River stopped herself from chuckling this time. Tramplemat was certainly what she was describing.

“And the second thing,” the slavecop restarted, “is what we all are created to do.” She pressed the big red button next to the monitor. The seat she was sitting on slid on a rail, lowered a bit, and rotated on its axis, turning into a small rapebed. She turned around and rose on her knees, facing the moustachioed dummy and started to stroke his big silicone dick casually. “Vehicle blowjobs are not the same with regular ones, cunts. Even the best cocksuckers need to relearn this artform from scratch. It requires extra finesse, restraint, patience. It's a special form of soft-n-slow.”

She leaned in and gave the Baron’s penis a little peck on he tip, then jumped off the seat. The cocksucking rapebed automatically returned to its original configuration.

“Let’s learn by doing, shall we?” She pointed at the four girls at the head of their lines. “Jizzgulp, Supplecunt, Whoreswine, Cumhole… Get in your Cunthounds.”

River and Willow looked at each other before stepping into the neighboring simulators. Willow sat next to “Jack” in the blue SEFR cap, and River took her place by “Dr. Wankman,” who was wearing an old lab coat. Tramplemat went back to the control panel to launch the training program.

“Let’s start with a zigzag program, eh?” the slavecop yelled into the microphone. “The basics. It’s a simple blowjob-chase-blowjob-chase pattern. Good for building muscle memory. Leeeeeet’s seee…. Time of day? I think… sunset?” She punched it in. The lights in the hall dimmed dramatically. A few reddish-orange mood lights turned on to simulate twilight conditions.

“Romantic, eh? Now listen, navigators. When prompted to do so, you’ll activate your blowjob seats and go down on the pilots. You’ll perform open-ended soft-and-slows with minimal head movement. The trick is not to hamper the pilot’s arm movement. This means horizontal strokes, not vertical. This means sooooft and sloooow. Never rush, unless you are ordered to speed up or induce a climax.”

River nodded along. Another game with clear rules. She was excited.

“That’s the easy part,” Tramplemat continued. “We have discovered this week that you’re a bunch of cum-hungry cockmunchers, so I’m sure you’ll all be able to handle that stage. While you’re performing, keep your ears open for this signal.” She pressed a button. A mechanical female voice rose from the control panels of the simulators. “Alert! Runner reported.”

Their screens came alive. The SEFR logo lit up with a flashing alert sign, then a picture of a beautiful brunette appeared on the top left corner. “This is Aisha Yuma Brok,” announced the slavecop. “26 year-old bareneck, suspected FLF member. Armed and dangerous.” She chuckled and waved her hand. “Relax, newbies. We are not going to start with an advanced target like this. You won’t be able to catch Aisha anyway. Nobody ever managed to come even close. Some say that she was meant to be impossible to locate and track.” She pressed another button. The picture was replaced with a young blonde with fear in her big blue eyes. “You’ll start with an easy target like Gigi here. 18 year old high school girl. She’s stupid enough to run away from her master on her E-day. She is scared out of her mind, always makes the worst possible choices, and most importantly, she is easily trackable because she carries a BFA band. You’ll get her easily. I won’t even bother giving you any instructions about the navigation-tracking system. I’ll let you figure it out yourselves.”

She paused and raised her hand dramatically. She definitely had a penchant for theatrics. “You know what? Perhaps we can make it more exciting. Make it a competition, eh?”

She pressed the button. “First one to catch two runners gets a clothing item from the losers.” The computer started to countdown from five.

A clothing item? River perked up. A chance to complete her uniform once again. Instinctively, she turned to Willow, only to find her friend looking at her. Was that a scowl? She was genuinely surprised to see Willow with her game face on. Were they rivals now?

The countdown ended with a long beep. The red button next to the screen started to blink. River remembered what she was supposed to do and pressed it. Her seat started to turn. She quickly climbed on it and took proper side-cocksucking position. She placed her lips on Dr. Wankman’s silicone member and moved her head down its shaft, barely managing to keep her composure. The moment was surreal and incredibly hilarious. Four young women on all fours, sucking off crash dummies in a dimly lit hall in front of an audience of their peers.

Regardless, River was going to excel at this ridiculous task. She was determined to win, get her top back. She started to perform a soft-and-slow. She was good at it. As Tramplemat instructed, she limited her movements to the horizontal plane, keeping her head low. Dr. Wankman seemed to enjoy it. At least he did not complain. Could the simulator punish her if she failed somehow, she wondered.

She got her answer a few seconds later. A buzzing sound was heard, followed by a pained groan from Jizzgulp who was tasked with blowing Baron Suckoff. “Ah!” snickered Tramplemat. “Forgot to tell you. If you make a mistake, like touching the pilot’s arm or blocking his view, you’ll be lightly electrocuted. In addition to that, each mistake will add 10 more seconds to the blowjob phase. And believe me, you don’t want to fall behind like that. Every second is crucial for the next stage.”

She pressed a button. All simulator screens except for Jizzgulp’s lit up. “Runner reported in your sector!” announced the metallic female voice. “Locate and track down the target. Stand by for target information.”

River quickly pulled back and pressed the red button. The cocksucking plane transformed into a seat again. Gigi’s scared face appeared on the screen just like Tramplemat said. “Gigi Dumbwhore, 18. First day as a slave. Last known location: north of Bitcham.”
 

Milk! - 13​


Cool morning breeze… Birds chirping… Sunlight trying to break through the mist… It felt calm, serene, refreshing. She liked it a lot. It was the best feeling. Her favorite moments of her otherwise monotonous and depressing days. Her depleted batteries recharged as she crawled through the woods. She could almost feel her body regenerating while she followed the meandering dirt path that led to the creek. She knew it by heart now, after who knows how long. She could find the washing spot blindfolded. She didn’t even need to hear that soothing sound of running water. She now had perfect muscle memory.

Her body moved on its own. She no longer felt in control of it any more. Her mind, it was simply a passive passenger trapped in this flesh-and-bone vessel, this piece of fuckmeat. When she heard a command, her body followed immediately. Her brain didn’t process the words, she didn’t make any real choices, she didn’t weigh options, consider the consequences, or worry about anything. She was now a perfect automaton.

No, not a robot… A filthy beast. A well-trained, broken-in, domesticated animal. Cattle.

They milked her like a cow, fed her like a cow, bred her like a cow, herded her like a cow, barned her like a cow. She was no longer human. Was she ever one? Her pre-slavery life was now a faint memory, like a fleeting sensation she cannot hold on to, a dream she just forgot. Just a blur.

When was the last time she walked on two feet? When was the last time she wore an item of clothing? When was the last time she formed a meaningful sentence?

She had a short surge of excitement and clarity some weeks ago when they brought in her daughter Darla. It was a shock for the middle-aged rapetoy. A blessing and curse at the same time. She was happy and grateful for seeing her little baby again, even though it also meant watching these five assholes rape and torture her repeatedly.

But now, even that short-lived emotional high was fading as a memory. She was always heavily drugged, just like her daughter and the other two women they captured a short while ago. The boys, they regularly injected their rape-cattle with an industrial-grade bovinizing agent. It made the women docile, kept their minds wrapped in a constant haze, and their constantly enlarging tits full of milk.

The herd kept growing. Commoncunt, her precious daughter Cumcuntling, and the two recent additions Worthlesswhore and Bonboncunt. Bianca didn’t even now the real names of the newcomers. She knew that they were family too, not unlike Darla and her. The older one, middle-aged redhead, seemed too young to be the teenager’s mom, so Bianca assumed older sister or aunt. It didn’t matter, of course. They weren’t allowed to talk to each other. When they were together, they were in constant use. When the boys were done with their tight fuckholes and obedient mouths, they locked them in their personal cabins located far from each other, eliminating the chance to communicate effectively. They were not allowed to, anyway.

The rape-camp was not what it used to be. When Bianca was brought here for the first time a looooong while ago, it was nothing but a campfire with logs around it. Now it was starting to look like a little village. Their owners first constructed a simple cabin to rape their fucktoys in. Was it her idea to build it? Her memory was getting fuzzy on that too, like everything else.

The cabin was nothing fancy, just a small room with a bed. After they captured the two runaways, they decided to add more structures. They installed four pre-fabricated slave confinement units around the campsite. The boys jokingly called them “barns,” but Bianca’s was barely larger than a standard dog cabin. She had to curl up in fetal position to fit inside. Worthlesswhore had even a smaller one, while the teens slept in the slightly larger ones.

Since they built those, all the others rapecows lived there, in their “barns” at this secret little camp. Only Commoncunt was taken back to the city to be utilized by the group during the week. The others, who were illegally obtained, waited for the weekend in their little cabins, in darkness, shivering. They were given some dogfood, bottled water, a blanket, and a bucket. Sometimes one or two of the boys visited during the weekend to check on them.

Come Friday evening, the festivities started again. The boys arrived at camp, took Commoncunt out of the trunk, released the others from their tiny barns, and started raping them gleefully. Understandably, the women served with enthusiasm. They were grateful to be let out after five days of mind-wrecking confinement, of course. Friday gangrapes were always hectic, intense, and exhausting. The boys feasted and got drunk out of their minds, used and abused the women brutally, and stuffed their limp remains back in their cabins at the end of a long night.

She didn’t know how others felt, but Bianca loved Friday nights. Specifically, she loved the sleep she got after the boys locked her in her cabin at the end of the first gangrape. The boys rarely woke up early the next day, which meant longer-than-usual rest for their exhausted cows. Even if they did, they’d be hungover and low on energy, so they could be satisfied easily with a soft-and-slow blowjob. No violent beatings or rough fucking on Saturday mornings.

More often than not, Darren would be the first one to get up. He’d come and release the women, and take them down to the creek. He’d watch them clean themselves up, milk their aching udders, then let one or two of them give him a relaxing head. When the cows were fully rape-ready again, he’d lead them back to camp. There the older women would cook and the teens would suck cocks around the fire.

That day started the same. As usual, Master Darren arrived and lined the women up while the rest of the boys were snoring like boars. He picked up Commoncunt’s rope and pulled gently. She obediently launched after her master on her hands and needs like a good cow, and the others followed.

There it was. Cool morning breeze… Birds chirping… Sunlight trying to break through the mist…

She felt her senses become sharper as she crawled. She wanted to savor the lucidity while she could. Soon Darren would inject them with that cheap bovinizing agent as he regularly did after milkings, and she’d find herself dazed and confused again. She focused on the sensations. The way the breeze licked her back, the way the soil felt under her palms and knees. Soon she slipped into a trance-like calm.

Something felt strange after a while. She could no longer hear the sound of the creek, and the path was not familiar either. They made a wrong turn while she was deep in thought? She raised her head and started to pay attention. Master was whistling a carefree tune as he walked with her rope in hand. He most definitely knew what he was doing.

After fifteen minutes of extra bitchwalking, they reached a large clearing in the middle of the woods. Bianca had never been this far from the camp before.

“Here we are!” exclaimed Darren once the group reached the center of the open space. He dropped her rope and opened his arms. “Go on then. You may begin!”

The cows looked on with confused expressions. None understood what he wanted them to do.

“It’s your breakfast,” Darren explained. “Fresh veggies.” He picked up a broken branch from the ground and slashed Commoncunt’s bare bottom with it. “Heads down, stupid cows. Start eating. It’s grazing time. You’re not allowed to eat anything else this weekend. Just this, plus all the cum you earn throughout the day.” He slashed Worthlesswhore’s back this time. “You have fifteen minutes.”

The ex-teacher froze for a moment. Or she thought she did. In actuality, she didn’t hesitate even for a microsecond. Before her mind could process her master’s unusual order, her body sprung into action like a well-trained puppy. Her daughter quickly followed. She was now fully conditioned to imitate whatever her mother did. The others too were convinced to join after a few lashes landed on their backs and bottoms.

Bianca took a bite and pulled a bunch of grass. It was immediately obvious that human teeth was not the best tool for grazing. It took the woman a few tries to learn how to bite off and chew grass. As a former teacher, she knew well that this stuff had little nutritional value, of course… But as a well-trained rapecow, she understood why Darren was forcing them to humiliate themselves like this. Yes, he was the least violent member of the bunch, but he was still a sadist who enjoyed hurting women, both physically and emotionally. This was simply foreplay for him.

And sure enough, he was hard as a diamond in no time. He took out his cock and walked around the women for a few seconds, trying to pick his first victim. He eventually decided to start with Darla, her daughter. He put his boot on the girls nape and pushed her head down. The poor heifer immediately understood what she had to do. With her button nose planted in the soil, she arched her back, raised her butt, and parted her knees. Pleased with the stolen slavegirl’s immediate compliance, Darren removed his boot from her neck, knelt behind her, and entered her pussy from behind. Darla let out a long moan as he fully impaled her on his dick. He paused for a moment and started to fuck her slowly.

“What are you looking at, Commoncunt!” yelled the boy as he mounted her daughter like a dog. “Keep eating. Time is running out.” She stopped watching her master rape her daughter and buried her head into the grass.

After a few minutes, he pulled his cock out of Darla and shoved it into Bonboncunt’s asshole. The young redhead’s pained scream echoed in the clearing. Bianca couldn’t see the hapless victim from where she was grazing, but she could tell from her moans and whimpers that he was now going a lot faster and deeper. He recognized the slight change in his groans too. He was probably getting closer to a climax.

She was wrong. He wasn’t ready to cum yet. Soon she pulled out again and put his throbbing member in Worthlesswhore’s mouth. The woman started sucking him without hesitation. This time, Commoncunt had a good view of the violent facerape. The woman’s befuddled expression looked familiar. Bianca recognized the complex emotions on the newcomer’s face. Mostly disgust and shame, as expected, but a significant amount of desire too. Perhaps they were not dissimilar?… Mostly neglected by the man she previously belonged to, not utilized enough, passed her prime without ever realizing her full potential as a fucktoy…

It was her time to shine now. Bianca had no idea what the other was thinking as Darren skullfucked her mercilessly, of course. She knew only what she felt in that situation. A strange sense of satisfaction, among a number of wildly contradictory feelings. She was content. It felt natural.

Was it really her nature? Or was it the training and drugs? It hardly mattered at this point. Rational thought was pointless when emotions and desire controlled your mind and body. She was a rapecow, and she existed to serve these five young boys. Her five former students, violent sociopaths each and every one of them. It didn’t matter. They had the dicks and she got the holes. She served them enthusiastically, as nature intended.

“Don’t worry, teach,” smiled Darren as he pulled his dick out of Worthlesswhore’s sore throat. As the redhead coughed out the excess saliva accumulated in her well-fucked mouth, Darren walked over to Bianca, grabbed her by the hair and shoved his cock into her tertiary fuckhole.

“Finally,” she thought to herself, and her mind went blank once again.
 

Milk! - 14​


“Come on, get out of there!”

Bianca obediently rose on her forelegs and climbed out of the trunk. Darren picked her rope and pulled her onto the sidewalk. Nate revved the engine aggressively and took off.

She liked Mondays now. Before her enslavement, when she was a teacher, she hated the first day of the week. But now, it was her favorite. It was “Darren day.” Twenty-four hours of respite at the end of the exhausting weekend rape-camp. A much needed break before her utilization rotation switched to high gear again.

She liked the boy. He continued to be her favorite master. It was not even a contest. He fed her well, treated her fairly, and let her rest for long periods of time. He preferred ambient soft-and-slows in general. She enjoyed giving him head as he worked in his home office and relaxed on the couch afterwards. Unrushed blowjobs were the best. He usually threeholed her once before bed, in an unusually unselfish way, and even let her climax occasionally.

Apart from that, she also liked their faceslapping sessions. It was now a tradition for the two of them. A weekly hour-long ceremony, often very intense, but always very intimate. He’d take her flushed face between his strong hands, look into her pleading puppy-dog eyes, and slap her silly until she begged for mercy. He enjoyed her tears, and she enjoyed his touch and the closeness. It was, rather strangely, the high point of her week.

But she had another reason for liking Mondays: Post-camp deep-cleaning. Darren always took her to “Uncle Jack’s Quicky Whore-Wash” as soon as they returned from the woods. The automated cleaning process was quite painful and dehumanizing, but she always felt refreshed afterwards.

Especially if Charlotte was there. One of the girls who worked at the whorewash happened to be an old friend of her daughter Darla’s. She was always smiling, friendly and warm, and she treated Bianca well on every visit. She also gave the poor woman quick orgasms secretly behind the machines, whenever she could.

Darren liked that cute redhead as much as Bianca did. The girl was an exceptional cocksucker. Easily his favorite among the three waiting-room attendees worked there, definitely the best Bianca had ever seen in her life. At least that was what she read on Darren’s face whenever the girl served him. Luna gave decent head too, but only Charlotte could roll Darren’s eyes backwards at will. Bianca learned a lot whenever she had to chance to watch the girl perform. How to suck cock in general, and how to please Darren in particular.

“Go on, get your butt in there, Commoncunt.”

She smiled and followed him to the whorewash. Cold air and the smell of cheap chemicals hit her as soon as she crawled inside. Her eyes searched for Charlotte. She suspected Darren felt the same.

The redhead was nowhere to be seen. Luna was serving a customer at the far side of the waiting area, and Jackie was busy with some paperwork behind the counter. She looked up and smiled as soon as they stepped into her field of vision.

“Welcome to Uncle Jack’s Quickies,” she beamed with youthful innocence, and turned to the nude ex-teacher on her hands and knees. “Welcome back, Commoncunt. How are you today?”

Bianca smiled. She was not allowed to talk, of course. Jackie kept forgetting that. The brunette was relatively new here, and she was still very naive. She didn’t strike Bianca as particularly smart or skilled at her job, but she made up for it with her charming, jovial personality.

Darren chose to ignore the girl’s little faux-pas. “The usual,” he said tersely. “You are here, so I guess Charlotte isn’t in today?”

“Yes Sir… I mean no, Sir,” the girl replied and pointed at the only customer in the waiting area. “She’s in there, processing Master Foster’s puppies right now. I guess they arrived just before her shift was over, so…” She licked her lips in the cutest way possible and batted her eyes. “You wanted her to attend you? I totally understand. She’s so awesome! I love watching her do her thing.”

“Right,” said Darren. Bianca noted that the petite brunette’s cheerful attitude irritated her master slightly.

“I’m pretty good too,” continued the girl. “I’m always learning. I get to suck so many cocks here. People enjoy my blowjobs, I think. Would you like me to do you? Until Charlotte comes out, I mean. Though… I don’t know if she… I mean, her shift is over, so…”

Before she could finish her sentence, Charlotte emerged from the double gates with two leashed young women on all-fours. She led them to the waiting area and left them by their master, then approached the new arrivals with a welcoming smile.

“Welcome back, Mr Klap. Hello Commoncunt.”

Bianca beamed back with immense joy when the redhead looked into her eyes and said her name. Yes, her servonym was meant to humiliate her every time it was uttered, and even after so many months it still worked as intended… But anything and everything sounded sweet and pleasing in Charlotte’s dulcet voice.

The girl always filled her with a warm, happy feeling. It was strange. Even her daughter Darla didn’t make her feel this way. Of course, she was always heavily drugged when she was with Darla. The injections dulled her emotions, suppressed her memories, lowered her inhibitions, and lubricated her holes.

Perhaps… This was just a side effect of the “Monday high” she experienced. Or maybe it had something to do with the regular orgasms Charlotte gave her secretly. Her fingers were magic, just like her lips. She was beautiful, charming, sweet…

Bianca’s eyes widened. A realization hit her. What she was feeling was lust… pure unbridled lust.

She had a crush on her daughter’s friend!

“The new girl tells me your shift is over,” Darren said as the teacher struggled to come to terms with these strange feelings. “You cannot stay for one more, perhaps? Commoncunt, she likes you… a lot.”

“Yeah, sorry,” the girl smiled. “Feeling’s mutual. But I already did an extra twenty minutes after a long double-shift. Need to eat and relax a bit. I need some coffee in me.”

Darren froze for a long moment. “In that case, let me buy you a cup of coffee,” he offered. “I guess Commoncunt can wait a bit longer. She’s not that dirty anyway. She had a good dip in the creek earlier.”

“You want’t to buy me a coffee?” Charlotte smiled. “Okay, I guess… One cup of coffee.”

Darren extended his arm like an old-timey gentleman, and the redhead took it with matching energy. They walked out with a surprised Bianca in tow.

“You were quick to accept,” Darren commented after they walked in silence for a while. “ I guess you don’t have a restricted regular, do you?”

“Regulars? Yes, Restricted? No,” replied Charlotte. “You’re a regular. You come to the whorewash every week to fuck my mouth, don’t you?”

“Not to… Well, Commoncunt gets dirty,” Darren stammered. “We go camping on weekends, you know. In the woods. I think I mentioned that before?”

“Sure, but you always time your entrance perfectly,” chuckled the girl. “You wait until I’m the only attendant left in the waiting room. I know that. I’m not that stupid, you know.”

“That’s not true,” the boy shrugged. “I’m sure I was served by Luna a few times, and that other girl too. It’s just a coincidence that-“

“You did Luna only once, and never the other girl” Charlotte laughed. “Listen. I’m not complaining at all. I’m flattered. I like serving you… a lot.”

“You do, eh?”

“Sure. You have a very nice cock. You don’t rush me, you let me do my thing. I enjoy it very much, you know. Sucking cock, I mean. I’m very good at it too.”

“Yes, you are,” Darren smiled.

They kept walking in silence for a while.

“I don’t think there are any coffee shops around here,” said the girl after they turned a corner.

“Sorry,” Darren replied. “I totally forgot about coffee. I kinda blacked out and went into autopilot after you said you liked- …This is actually my place over there. But there is a nice patisserie right at the end of this road. See the bus stop at the-”

“8 o-clock,” Charlotte interrupted.

“Excuse me?”

“My next shift starts at 8 o clock. You can take me home and rape me until then, as roughly as you like, as many times you like. I won’t resist, but if you want to restrain me, please use rope. Hate metal cuffs and shackles. Rough threeholing is fine, but I’d be grateful if you use lube for anal. And I’d like to have at least five… no, six orgasms. I’ll properly beg for it every time, of course. Choking is fine. Feel free to make me cry. Face slapping and spanking I can take, but no tools, no cutlery, no breaking skin… And no unsightly bruises on my face.” She stopped and looked at Commoncunt. “And perhaps let me play with Commoncunt too. It’s been a while since I received a proper cunny.”

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Milk! - 15​


Bianca opened her eyes and looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand. It was 6:25, almost time for the morning rituals. Performing a soft-and-slow to wake Darren up on Tuesdays was already one of her favorite duties of the week, but she had another reason to be excited that morning.

She rose on her hands and knees and looked over to the bed. There she was, her daughter’s friend Charlotte, still asleep, naked and bound, well-fucked and covered in her master’s semen. She lay on her back with Darren’s arm around her waist, her big full tits performing a mesmerizing dance with every breath she took.

She looked like an innocent angel. A mindbogglingly beautiful one, who surrendered to a demon after a brutal celestial fight… And that demon raped her unconscious and covered her in his nasty ejaculate to complete its unholy conquest.

Bianca licked her lips unknowingly. She liked that nasty fluid. She was always thirsty for it. After all that time spent as a common cocksucker, she was now addicted to cum… Both the process of extracting it, and the product itself.

Darren’s tasted especially good. It was her reward for perfect obedience and service, tasks well-performed. He was always generous and good to her, relatively speaking. Especially when they were alone at his house, or at the creek.

When he was with his group of friends at the camp, he got rougher and crueler of course. Bianca understood why. Boys tended to egg each other on and get rowdier when they congregate. She didn’t mind.

She was used to that brutal treatment. Human brain was a miraculous thing. In time, it adapted to the most vicious, humiliating ordeals, accepted and normalized them, and balanced the horribly bad with the relatively good. It was a simple safety mechanism for the victim to keep her sanity. That’s why she was still functioning without going insane after losing her husband, kids, friends, the life she had, and becoming a worthless piece of fuckmeat boys brutalized and humiliated every single day.

Her poor, obedience drug-soaked brain desperately looked for ways to rationalize the constant cruelty she was subjected to. It was always the most insignificant things. A momentary smile of satisfaction on a master’s face, an extra serving of girlfeed at the end of the day, a clean sheet of cardboard to sleep on, permission to swallow after a well-performed blowjob… Small stuff like that kept her going.

But this time, she got extremely lucky. The most satisfying reward she could hope for now lay on Darren’s bed. Charlotte the whorewash attendant, her crush.

Darren and Charlotte were an item now. Bianca remembered the first time her master asked the girl out a few weeks ago. He offered her coffee, and she offered him a few hours of rough sex. Bianca was lucky to be there on that first rape. Of course, the boy focused on his fresh catch and never took his eyes off of the young beauty, but Commoncunt was allowed to assist in every way she could. She rimmed the boy as he fucked Charlotte, humped his leg to completion twice, and even managed to receive some skullfuck-slaps when he was giving the girl a proper spanking at the end of the day.

But the absolute highlight of that impromptu date was when she was allowed to perform cunnies on the lovely whorewash attendee. Every time Darren creampied one of Charlotte’s fuckholes, Bianca was tasked to clean them. She was delighted to do so, of course. Licking Charlotte’s slopped up heavenly pussy and eating her jizz-filled ass, it was a dream come true.

Since then, Charlotte became Darren’s regular. He picked her up at the end of her shift every day, treated her to a nice meal, and took her home to rape. Bianca helped on Mondays when Darren kept her, of course. She felt a tiny bit sad that she was no longer the main fucktoy he used, but it was a huge improvement for her regardless. She liked to assist. She liked to share the cock and the slaps.

And especially, she liked Charlotte. No, she loved her. She wasn’t just Darren’s regular, she was Bianca’s girlfriend too. Sort of… The girl was already kind and warm to her before. Now they were even more intimate. She loved to give the girl cunnies, and she loved to lick her beautiful face and body clean after rapes.

And now, as her eyes wandered around the inviting figure on her master’s bed, her mouth was watering with anticipation. It was a funny feeling. A year or so earlier, she would have been disgusted by the notion of thirsting after one of her daughter’s friends like this. But she was no longer a relatively sheltered bareneck teacher and a boring mother of two. She was now a well-used, fully-housebroken rape-cow, weaned on cum and trained to respond to complex slap patterns. She craved sex and violence, and received it in excess. Her brain was fully switched to slave mode. She was transformed into a completely different animal.

The clock showed 6:27 now. She swallowed and straightened up. Darren was lying on his side, his fully erect cock resting on the girl’s hip, pointing to her exposed swollen vagina like an arrow trained on target. Charlotte was sleeping peacefully on her back, her long legs held apart by a meter long spreader bar tied to her ankles. Her wrists were tied above her head to the bed post with hemp rope, the same type Bianca wore around her neck as a noose-slash-leash since the day she was purchased by her five former students. The girl’s panties were stuffed in her mouth and held in place by duct tape. Only a piece of its side string peaking out from the corner of her mouth betrayed the presence of the delicate garment. Morning sun illuminated strings of dried cum coming out of the girl’s well-fucked holes.

When Darren finished in Charlotte for the last time the night before, Commoncunt cleaned her holes up dutifully, with pleasure. However, when Darren woke up in the middle of the night and threeholed the girl again, she wasn’t given an explicit order to clean up the big mess he left. After they fell asleep again, Bianca lay fully awake for a long while, thinking about it. All that delicious cum, drying up… Such a waste!

6:29. Almost there. She left her cardboard and approached the bed as quietly as possible. She put her forelegs on the bed and lifted herself up, then carefully crawled in position between the two. Normally, she wasn’t allowed on the furniture, but Darren made an exception for morning rituals. Her head above their genitals, she turned to the alarm clock and waited impatiently for the moment of truth.

The clock blinked and showed 6:30. Finally! She licked her lips and lowered herself onto master’s cock. She started to lick it’s shaft from side to side. Every now and then she continued to keep licking until she reached Charlotte’s swollen pussy, spending a few seconds on her slit and clit.

As expected, Charlotte’s body responded quicker than the boy’s, who was long accustomed to Bianca’s tongue and lips. The girl opened her eyes in confusion, but quickly realized what was happening. She smiled. Bianca smiled back and continued licking, doing her best to serve both equally. Darren woke up a few minutes later, let the woman swallow her first load of the day, then slapped her off the bed before mounting Charlotte once again.

Grateful, Bianca returned to her cardboard bed and lay down as Charlotte’s dulcet moans of pleasure filled the room. It was music to her old ears.


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Harvest-8: The Curator​


Every brain cell she had was screaming. Was it joy? Panic? Perhaps both.

Toby Hendricks was approaching her stall, where she had been sucking cocks and licking balls all day. She had the biggest crush on the boy since forever, and she imagined kneeling before him in her birthday suit a million times before.… But of course, her fantasies were always more romantic than this. None of those dream encounters took place in a dirty cow-tasting stall.

Now this, this was a true nightmare.

She exhaled and made herself smaller, then held her breath and waited. She hoped it was just a coincidence. Perhaps he was just passing by, wandering around aimlessly among the tasting stalls. Maybe if she hid well enough…

There wasn’t much to do in Old Hickory during Harvest Rape Fest. The town proper would be completely overrun by lout tourists and female-herders from all around the region, filling up local eateries and watering holes. Townies made money hand over fist during that time, of course. Shops stayed open 24/7, selling their tawdry shit to drunk cunt-wranglers and horned-up city slickers. So, Lizzie Beth expected Toby to be far away at the other side of the town, helping his mother at her Boutique at this busy time. Mama Hendricks’s high-quality traditional northern-style clothes were too fancy and pricey for the local girls, but the tourists loved them. Harvest Festival was the only time she could compete against the new Dirnenkleidung store on the main street.

“Oh, he’s definitely coming for us,” Dottie Belle said, as if she read her troubled mind. “I know it’s hard for you, but you should better stop hiding like a coward and power through it. You know you’re a rape-cow, and he knows you’re a rape-cow. Just let it go and act like a proper rape-cow. You trained for this, sis. You can do it.”

Her half-sister was right, as always. Lizzie swallowed nervously, then took a deep breath and adjusted her position. The moment she emerged from behind the stall planks, Toby’s eyes found her.

“Elizabeth, Dorothy,” he smiled. “Finally. I have been looking for you. Why did they put the Oveja stalls in this corner? Not a lot of foot traffic here.”

“Hello Toby,” Dot replied jovially, before Lizzie could muster the strength to greet him back. The brunette swallowed again and forced a smile instead. “It’s only the pair of us this year,” Dottie Belle continued, “so I guess we were not allowed to play with the others. A lot of calves matured in other herds. I know at least six from the Svinins, and even more from the Cerdos.”

“I guess,” replied Toby, and turned to Lizzie. The girl froze again, forgetting everything she prepared to say. “How are you two doing? I hope the people aren’t treating you too roughly. It feels like the crowd here gets a little bit rowdier every passing year.”

“N-no,” Lizzie stammered. “They are fine. Normal, I mean… I mean, I wouldn’t know. It’s my first time here, in the stalls, obviously, and I-”

“We had no problems so far,” Dottie jumped in to save her half-sister. “You said it yourself. Not a lot of foot traffic here. We served some since this morning, and I think most people liked us. It remains to be seen if any of them liked us enough to bid on us come auction time.” She paused for a moment. “Of course, some dude from a big slave-trading company told Lizzie that he intended to buy us. What was it called? Ah, “Rapist’s Choice.” I think that’s what it was. A big company that sells rural girls to city folk, probably.”

“Yes,” Toby nodded and turned to Lizzie again. “That’s why I’m here, actually. I have news for you.”

“Good or bad,” Lizzie asked, finally overcoming her temporary speech impediment.

“Depends,” he replied. “I mean, it’s a mixed blessing for me. Remember I told you about our financial problems? With the Boutique and stuff?”

Lizzie nodded.

“Mom finally decided to give up the shop. It’s impossible to fight that DK store. We simply cannot afford the rent.”

“Aww!” sighed Lizzie. “I’m so sorry, Toby.”

“That’s not too bad, actually,” he dismissed with a hand wave. “She’ll continue to work at home, make clothes and sell them online. Her income will go down considerably of course, but at least we don’t have to pay that back-breaking rent. We’ll see how it goes.” He paused. “So I thought I could help her by doing some odd jobs here and there, right? I figured I could offer my services as a tour guide or something during the Festival, so I went downtown to look for tourists.”

“You’re offering guided tours of our rotting one-dirt-road town?” giggled Dottie. “Found any idiots to pay for such an elite privilege?”

“No, no takers,” waved Toby and smiled. “But I found something even better. I got a job offer instead. This couple, city folk from the south… They offered me a job as a curator.”

“Curator? What’s that?” Lizzie asked.

“As far as I understand, a curator is the person who evaluates and purchases women for a slave-trading company, Toby replied. “I guess it’s like that guy you mentioned, from that “Rapist’s Choice” store chain. This couple, they say they’re going to set up a company out here, to trade cows. I don’t understand exactly what they’re going to do, but they paid me good money to finger the best girls to buy around here. And I immediately thought of you two, you know.”

“I’m glad we were the first girls you wanted to finger,” chuckled Dottie. “You can start with me, if you like. I think Lizzie will need a minute to process that sentence.”

Lizzie blushed. “Sorry, poor choice of words,” Toby laughed. “But that’s basically what I’m supposed to do. I’ll be a wrangler of some sort, I guess.”

“That sounds nice. I think we should consider calling our joint-venture that.”

Toby turned around to find a young couple smiling at them. “Wrangler?” responded the young gorgeous brunette in an expensive looking attire. “I’m not sure about that. Let’s decide later, eh?” Her young companion shrugged indifferently and tipped his big cowboy hat that he obviously bought a few minutes ago. “As you wish, partner.”

“Ah! here you are,” exclaimed Toby and turned to the girls again. “These are the Oveja sisters I was talking about. Lizzie Beth and Dottie Belle are the best of the best, I assure you.”

“They look very pretty indeed,” said the young man, scanning the young calves from tip to hoof. High-end grade A-grades, both of them. The best pair we’ve seen so far. How well-trained are they, though? Have you evaluated them yourself?”

“Evaluate?” asked Toby.

“You know, evaluate,” repeated the other. “Utilized them, used, screwed, fucked, raped them?”

“Oh?… No,” the boy shook his head. “They are actually my classmates… so I guess I never thought…”

“You never thought about raping your classmates?” smirked the young man in the funny hat. “What is this, some kind of religious thing you guys have out here?” He reached out and stroke Lizzie’s hair. She flinched. “Look at this one, for example. Perfectly docile and fuckable. And I think she likes you too.” He turned to his partner. “Don’t you think so? See the way she looks at him?”

“Oh yeah,” the woman agreed with a mischievous smile. “She craves that big juicy cock, this little heifer.”

“Oh, no-no-no-no,” said Toby coyly and took a step back.

“Alright, but now you’re hurting this girl’s feelings,” the young man said, then took his hat off and put it on Lizzie’s head. He wasn’t too far from the truth. The young calf was at the brink of tears. This exchange had confirmed her biggest fear. Turns out her crush Toby Hendricks had never thought that she was rapeworthy.

“Let’s not embarrass them further, partner,” the woman interjected. “We can evaluate them now, the two of us. We never utilized together, have we?”

“That’s right,” the other grinned. “We should do that. We are launching a joint venture after all. This can be kind of a corporate bonding exercise for our new company, right?”

“Exactly. So which one do you like? The spunky dye-job or the heartbroken lovebird?”

“You take the lovebird,” the man said and took his hat back. He seems to be unaware of her feelings, but I suspect this little thing won’t be able to perform in front of Mr Hendricks well enough if I shove my dick between her quivering lips. I guess I’ll take the other one. She seems ready to do her best. Right, sweetheart?”

“Yes Sir,” confirmed Dot and raised on her knees. She was visibly amused by the couple’s playful dynamic, and the way they immediately figured out and exposed her sister’s secret feelings.

“How thoughtful of you,” the woman smiled. He held her hand and led her into position, right in front of the kneeling calf. She attempted to pull her dress up, but the other caught her hands and gently pulled them behind her back. He joined her wrists together over the small of her back, embraced her from behind, placed his steely erection between her round ass cheeks and reached down to pull her skirt up himself. The woman moaned with desire as he revealed her bare crotch to Lizzie.

“Go ahead and show my friend what you can do, little calf,” he ordered. “They tell me that cunnies are not part of proper rape-cow training, but I’m sure you girls learn how to do it anyway.”

“Yes Sir,” Dottie jumped in once again. “We do it all the time whenever they are not lookin’.” She was now fully invested in this strange couple, and she wanted to please them in every way she could.

Lizzie coyly leaned in and gave the young woman a little kiss on the clit, then started to lick her slit gently. Dot was right, of course. The girls weren’t taught techniques for pleasing other females, but it was one of their favorite “extra-curricular activities.” They played with each other and exchanged cunnies whenever they could. How else could a girl pass the time around this rotting town?

“There you go,” the young man said and gave the woman a kiss on the neck. “May I? You’re just too irresistible.”

“Yes, yes, please,” the brunette whimpered. “You know you have a standing permission to rape me anywhere, anytime, anyhole, anyway, partner.”

The man gave her another kiss, then took out his rod, only to shove it in her butthole. He then started to fuck her in the ass slowly, while Lizzie continued to lick her pussy on the other side. Sandwiched between a big cock and a talented mouth, the woman immediately started to moan like a whore in heat. Her loud reaction threw off Lizzie Beth a bit. This certainly wasn’t the way a proper woman should react to utilization. Females were supposed to be remain as quiet and “ladylike” as possible, even in the rare instances they were allowed some pleasure.


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“How is she doing?" he asked after a while. The woman responded with a long groan of pleasure. He chuckled and sped up his thrusts, which made Lizzie’s work slightly harder. Nevertheless, she managed to push her over a climax in a couple minutes, or at least helped the man do it.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” said the woman, still breathing heavily, with a gentle stroke on the exhausted calf’s blushing cheek. Lizzie thanked her back for the opportunity to serve. The young man took a step back, his cock popped out of his satisfied companion’s butt. He grabbed it and shoved it in Dottie Belle’s eager mouth next. He gave the girl a few thrusts to let her know his preference in depth and tempo, then stopped moving to let the beautiful heifer do freely what she was trained to do.

Determined to satisfy him, Dot began performing a post-rape “clean-and-revive” on his semi-erect rod. It was the basic form of fluffer fellatio all rape-cows learned early. All Oveja girls were well-trained to serve alone and in groups, so each calf knew the best oral techniques to recharge a drained cock between proper genital utilizations. Once he regained full hardness, she quickly switched to a proper Oveja blowjob. She was one of the best performers of their farm’s special technique.

As Dot performed on the young man, his raven-haired companion reached for Lizzie’s chin and lifted her head to look into her eyes. Lizzie forced a smile. The woman leaned in to give the nervous girl a peck on her full lips, paused for a moment, then turned to Toby.

“Mr Hendricks, could you come here, please?”

“Of course,” the boy said. “How can I help, ma’am?”

“Now, please take that thing out of your pants and put it in her mouth.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, young man,” the woman said. “I want you to put your penis between these delicious lips. You don’t need to do anything. Just stay there, motionless. She’ll take care of the rest. Won’t you, sweetheart?”

Lizzie froze for a long moment, then nodded with embarrassing eagerness.

“But… like I told you, Elizabeth is…”

“I won’t take no for an answer, young man,” she frowned. “If you want to be a part of the Scatenato-Stevenson SlaveCalf Trading company, you will let this beauty suck your cock to completion.”

“Nuh-uh!” her companion exclaimed with a sour face. “I think Stevenson-Scatenato sounds a lot better, don’t you think, Jocelynne?”

“We are definitely not calling it that, Peter,” she chuckled.

“Well, sounds rather clunky, doesn't it? Okay, let’s call it ‘Wrangler’ then, like I suggested earlier?”

“Fine. Wrangler it is.”
 

"The Law Office" by Erenisch​

For now, the story has 4 chapters, without illustration unfortunately.
The title is unofficial and subject to change.

Law firm femployee Sofia Necia has been selected as prospective member of her boss's new harem
This story takes place After the novella "the Lawsuit"

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

2026-05-28 Edit: created with Chapters 01-04 (previously, the first 2 were in the short stories "compilation" epub
 

Attachments

In addition to "Law Office", I've updated the epub conversions of "Slavecop Academy" and "Milk". Check them out on my list of Epubs.
For "Harvest", I'm waiting to see if we get chapter 09 that Erenisch just posted on their Patreon. I'll edit this post if I update the epub.
 

Harvest-8: The Curator​


Every brain cell she had was screaming. Was it joy? Panic? Perhaps both.

Toby Hendricks was approaching her stall, where she had been sucking cocks and licking balls all day. She had the biggest crush on the boy since forever, and she imagined kneeling before him in her birthday suit a million times before.… But of course, her fantasies were always more romantic than this. None of those dream encounters took place in a dirty cow-tasting stall.

Now this, this was a true nightmare.

She exhaled and made herself smaller, then held her breath and waited. She hoped it was just a coincidence. Perhaps he was just passing by, wandering around aimlessly among the tasting stalls. Maybe if she hid well enough…

There wasn’t much to do in Old Hickory during Harvest Rape Fest. The town proper would be completely overrun by lout tourists and female-herders from all around the region, filling up local eateries and watering holes. Townies made money hand over fist during that time, of course. Shops stayed open 24/7, selling their tawdry shit to drunk cunt-wranglers and horned-up city slickers. So, Lizzie Beth expected Toby to be far away at the other side of the town, helping his mother at her Boutique at this busy time. Mama Hendricks’s high-quality traditional northern-style clothes were too fancy and pricey for the local girls, but the tourists loved them. Harvest Festival was the only time she could compete against the new Dirnenkleidung store on the main street.

“Oh, he’s definitely coming for us,” Dottie Belle said, as if she read her troubled mind. “I know it’s hard for you, but you should better stop hiding like a coward and power through it. You know you’re a rape-cow, and he knows you’re a rape-cow. Just let it go and act like a proper rape-cow. You trained for this, sis. You can do it.”

Her half-sister was right, as always. Lizzie swallowed nervously, then took a deep breath and adjusted her position. The moment she emerged from behind the stall planks, Toby’s eyes found her.

“Elizabeth, Dorothy,” he smiled. “Finally. I have been looking for you. Why did they put the Oveja stalls in this corner? Not a lot of foot traffic here.”

“Hello Toby,” Dot replied jovially, before Lizzie could muster the strength to greet him back. The brunette swallowed again and forced a smile instead. “It’s only the pair of us this year,” Dottie Belle continued, “so I guess we were not allowed to play with the others. A lot of calves matured in other herds. I know at least six from the Svinins, and even more from the Cerdos.”

“I guess,” replied Toby, and turned to Lizzie. The girl froze again, forgetting everything she prepared to say. “How are you two doing? I hope the people aren’t treating you too roughly. It feels like the crowd here gets a little bit rowdier every passing year.”

“N-no,” Lizzie stammered. “They are fine. Normal, I mean… I mean, I wouldn’t know. It’s my first time here, in the stalls, obviously, and I-”

“We had no problems so far,” Dottie jumped in to save her half-sister. “You said it yourself. Not a lot of foot traffic here. We served some since this morning, and I think most people liked us. It remains to be seen if any of them liked us enough to bid on us come auction time.” She paused for a moment. “Of course, some dude from a big slave-trading company told Lizzie that he intended to buy us. What was it called? Ah, “Rapist’s Choice.” I think that’s what it was. A big company that sells rural girls to city folk, probably.”

“Yes,” Toby nodded and turned to Lizzie again. “That’s why I’m here, actually. I have news for you.”

“Good or bad,” Lizzie asked, finally overcoming her temporary speech impediment.

“Depends,” he replied. “I mean, it’s a mixed blessing for me. Remember I told you about our financial problems? With the Boutique and stuff?”

Lizzie nodded.

“Mom finally decided to give up the shop. It’s impossible to fight that DK store. We simply cannot afford the rent.”

“Aww!” sighed Lizzie. “I’m so sorry, Toby.”

“That’s not too bad, actually,” he dismissed with a hand wave. “She’ll continue to work at home, make clothes and sell them online. Her income will go down considerably of course, but at least we don’t have to pay that back-breaking rent. We’ll see how it goes.” He paused. “So I thought I could help her by doing some odd jobs here and there, right? I figured I could offer my services as a tour guide or something during the Festival, so I went downtown to look for tourists.”

“You’re offering guided tours of our rotting one-dirt-road town?” giggled Dottie. “Found any idiots to pay for such an elite privilege?”

“No, no takers,” waved Toby and smiled. “But I found something even better. I got a job offer instead. This couple, city folk from the south… They offered me a job as a curator.”

“Curator? What’s that?” Lizzie asked.

“As far as I understand, a curator is the person who evaluates and purchases women for a slave-trading company, Toby replied. “I guess it’s like that guy you mentioned, from that “Rapist’s Choice” store chain. This couple, they say they’re going to set up a company out here, to trade cows. I don’t understand exactly what they’re going to do, but they paid me good money to finger the best girls to buy around here. And I immediately thought of you two, you know.”

“I’m glad we were the first girls you wanted to finger,” chuckled Dottie. “You can start with me, if you like. I think Lizzie will need a minute to process that sentence.”

Lizzie blushed. “Sorry, poor choice of words,” Toby laughed. “But that’s basically what I’m supposed to do. I’ll be a wrangler of some sort, I guess.”

“That sounds nice. I think we should consider calling our joint-venture that.”

Toby turned around to find a young couple smiling at them. “Wrangler?” responded the young gorgeous brunette in an expensive looking attire. “I’m not sure about that. Let’s decide later, eh?” Her young companion shrugged indifferently and tipped his big cowboy hat that he obviously bought a few minutes ago. “As you wish, partner.”

“Ah! here you are,” exclaimed Toby and turned to the girls again. “These are the Oveja sisters I was talking about. Lizzie Beth and Dottie Belle are the best of the best, I assure you.”

“They look very pretty indeed,” said the young man, scanning the young calves from tip to hoof. High-end grade A-grades, both of them. The best pair we’ve seen so far. How well-trained are they, though? Have you evaluated them yourself?”

“Evaluate?” asked Toby.

“You know, evaluate,” repeated the other. “Utilized them, used, screwed, fucked, raped them?”

“Oh?… No,” the boy shook his head. “They are actually my classmates… so I guess I never thought…”

“You never thought about raping your classmates?” smirked the young man in the funny hat. “What is this, some kind of religious thing you guys have out here?” He reached out and stroke Lizzie’s hair. She flinched. “Look at this one, for example. Perfectly docile and fuckable. And I think she likes you too.” He turned to his partner. “Don’t you think so? See the way she looks at him?”

“Oh yeah,” the woman agreed with a mischievous smile. “She craves that big juicy cock, this little heifer.”

“Oh, no-no-no-no,” said Toby coyly and took a step back.

“Alright, but now you’re hurting this girl’s feelings,” the young man said, then took his hat off and put it on Lizzie’s head. He wasn’t too far from the truth. The young calf was at the brink of tears. This exchange had confirmed her biggest fear. Turns out her crush Toby Hendricks had never thought that she was rapeworthy.

“Let’s not embarrass them further, partner,” the woman interjected. “We can evaluate them now, the two of us. We never utilized together, have we?”

“That’s right,” the other grinned. “We should do that. We are launching a joint venture after all. This can be kind of a corporate bonding exercise for our new company, right?”

“Exactly. So which one do you like? The spunky dye-job or the heartbroken lovebird?”

“You take the lovebird,” the man said and took his hat back. He seems to be unaware of her feelings, but I suspect this little thing won’t be able to perform in front of Mr Hendricks well enough if I shove my dick between her quivering lips. I guess I’ll take the other one. She seems ready to do her best. Right, sweetheart?”

“Yes Sir,” confirmed Dot and raised on her knees. She was visibly amused by the couple’s playful dynamic, and the way they immediately figured out and exposed her sister’s secret feelings.

“How thoughtful of you,” the woman smiled. He held her hand and led her into position, right in front of the kneeling calf. She attempted to pull her dress up, but the other caught her hands and gently pulled them behind her back. He joined her wrists together over the small of her back, embraced her from behind, placed his steely erection between her round ass cheeks and reached down to pull her skirt up himself. The woman moaned with desire as he revealed her bare crotch to Lizzie.

“Go ahead and show my friend what you can do, little calf,” he ordered. “They tell me that cunnies are not part of proper rape-cow training, but I’m sure you girls learn how to do it anyway.”

“Yes Sir,” Dottie jumped in once again. “We do it all the time whenever they are not lookin’.” She was now fully invested in this strange couple, and she wanted to please them in every way she could.

Lizzie coyly leaned in and gave the young woman a little kiss on the clit, then started to lick her slit gently. Dot was right, of course. The girls weren’t taught techniques for pleasing other females, but it was one of their favorite “extra-curricular activities.” They played with each other and exchanged cunnies whenever they could. How else could a girl pass the time around this rotting town?

“There you go,” the young man said and gave the woman a kiss on the neck. “May I? You’re just too irresistible.”

“Yes, yes, please,” the brunette whimpered. “You know you have a standing permission to rape me anywhere, anytime, anyhole, anyway, partner.”

The man gave her another kiss, then took out his rod, only to shove it in her butthole. He then started to fuck her in the ass slowly, while Lizzie continued to lick her pussy on the other side. Sandwiched between a big cock and a talented mouth, the woman immediately started to moan like a whore in heat. Her loud reaction threw off Lizzie Beth a bit. This certainly wasn’t the way a proper woman should react to utilization. Females were supposed to be remain as quiet and “ladylike” as possible, even in the rare instances they were allowed some pleasure.


View attachment 2607413



“How is she doing?" he asked after a while. The woman responded with a long groan of pleasure. He chuckled and sped up his thrusts, which made Lizzie’s work slightly harder. Nevertheless, she managed to push her over a climax in a couple minutes, or at least helped the man do it.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” said the woman, still breathing heavily, with a gentle stroke on the exhausted calf’s blushing cheek. Lizzie thanked her back for the opportunity to serve. The young man took a step back, his cock popped out of his satisfied companion’s butt. He grabbed it and shoved it in Dottie Belle’s eager mouth next. He gave the girl a few thrusts to let her know his preference in depth and tempo, then stopped moving to let the beautiful heifer do freely what she was trained to do.

Determined to satisfy him, Dot began performing a post-rape “clean-and-revive” on his semi-erect rod. It was the basic form of fluffer fellatio all rape-cows learned early. All Oveja girls were well-trained to serve alone and in groups, so each calf knew the best oral techniques to recharge a drained cock between proper genital utilizations. Once he regained full hardness, she quickly switched to a proper Oveja blowjob. She was one of the best performers of their farm’s special technique.

As Dot performed on the young man, his raven-haired companion reached for Lizzie’s chin and lifted her head to look into her eyes. Lizzie forced a smile. The woman leaned in to give the nervous girl a peck on her full lips, paused for a moment, then turned to Toby.

“Mr Hendricks, could you come here, please?”

“Of course,” the boy said. “How can I help, ma’am?”

“Now, please take that thing out of your pants and put it in her mouth.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, young man,” the woman said. “I want you to put your penis between these delicious lips. You don’t need to do anything. Just stay there, motionless. She’ll take care of the rest. Won’t you, sweetheart?”

Lizzie froze for a long moment, then nodded with embarrassing eagerness.

“But… like I told you, Elizabeth is…”

“I won’t take no for an answer, young man,” she frowned. “If you want to be a part of the Scatenato-Stevenson SlaveCalf Trading company, you will let this beauty suck your cock to completion.”

“Nuh-uh!” her companion exclaimed with a sour face. “I think Stevenson-Scatenato sounds a lot better, don’t you think, Jocelynne?”

“We are definitely not calling it that, Peter,” she chuckled.

“Well, sounds rather clunky, doesn't it? Okay, let’s call it ‘Wrangler’ then, like I suggested earlier?”

“Fine. Wrangler it is.”
Thanks again, you are the man. I know its early but the Harvest is my favorite story and erenisch just published another chapter. Can you please post it when you get a chance? Again you're awesome!
 

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