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

[Erenisch] Novella.

The Journey - 25​


“Don’t you find it suspicious? That day at the Ministry, the guy didn’t seem too keen to let us anywhere near the Harvest Festival. Now we get a green light all of a sudden.”

“I didn’t get that vibe, to be honest. I’m sure they’ll keep us on a tight leash when we get there. Keep us on the main roads that lead to safe places. But they aren’t trying to hide the event. They aren’t ashamed of it at all. To the contrary, they are proud of it. It’s a celebration of their system, triumphing at the grassroots level.” Marcel stopped and smiled at his companion. “Don’t worry, even if they let us film the officially sanitized events, we’ll get good enough footage. We kinda got used to all this cruelty ourselves, but even the simplest things here are outrageous for a blissfully ignorant non-Pussianan audience.”

“You’re always overly optimistic, Marce. Anyway, I’m not really concerned about the footage we have. I just feel that I had been completely useless so far. I couldn’t talk to anybody, except for that disastrous interview with the slavecop at the Ministry. I’m still embarrassed about that. Utterly unusable.”

“We can edit that into shape. Even if we can’t, no need to worry. We’ll find you another slavecop to talk to. Perhaps a retired one, one of those so-called bluenecks?”

“That’s not a bad idea. A retired slavecop. Where do we find one?”

“Let’s ask Melody.”

“You never miss an opportunity to see that little blonde, eh?” Nora smiled. She realized that she no longer felt jealous. Something was changed after the “medieval torture” session with her. The mystery about the girl was unraveled then, and Nora now felt in full control of their cute liaison.

Marcel smiled back and called Melody on the phone. The girl was there within a minute, wearing a revealing office dress and her usual big smile.

“Cool your loins, blondie” waved Nora. “I’m sure you are dying to get back on your knees and start sucking Marcel’s cock again, but we need you for another reason.”

Melody’s smile faded only a tiny bit. “Of course. How can I be of assistance, Ms Jasiri?”

“Can you find us a retired slavecop to talk to? Without the knowledge of the Ministry, if possible. I don’t want them to pick a ‘suitable one’ for us.”

Melody was unable to maintain her smile this time. “I… I’m not sure how I can… I don’t know how to find one. To be honest, I have never met one.”

“It makes sense,” said Marcel. “They would prefer to stay away from society. Enjoy their limited time of immunity and reduce the risk of losing it. If you think about it, they would be reluctant to reveal anything important to a foreigner.”

“So sweet!” Nora smiled. “Jumping in to defend this cutie in any situation.” She stroke Melody’s hair like a big sister. “No, there must be a courageous, disgruntled one out there. Ready to spill secrets if we guarantee her anonymity.” Then she grabbed Melody firmly by her shoulders and looked into her big blue eyes. “You know I can tell when you’re lying, don’t you?”

“I…” stammered the girl. “I heard… I believe one of my coworkers has an older sister who was retired from SEFR. But I never-”

“Great. Contact your coworker. I want to meet her sister. We can meet at that rape-hotel, away from the gaze of the ministry spies.”

Melody inhaled nervously. She now knew well that The Ministry had eyes everywhere.

“What are you waiting for? Go call your friend.”

Melody looked at Marcel pleadingly for a moment, then sighed and left the room. She was going to make a call, of course. To inform Director Holm.

As soon as the sexretary left, Nora turned around, knelt before Marcel, pulled his trainers down, and started to lick his erect cock. “Now that I’m one of your dutiful slaves, I have to take care of you whenever you have an erection, I guess,” she said, semi-sarcastically. “I don’t even have to check if you had a boner. You always get one the moment that blonde smiles at you.”

Marcel chuckled. “I don’t think you have to act for the cameras so soon. I’m sure they were satisfied by this morning’s ritual thing, the spanking and all.”

“Who says I’m acting?” said Nora before taking the big man’s meat in her mouth and deepthroating it skillfully. “These assholes are drugging us constantly anyway. We both have these urges. Why let them go to waste? We might as well fuck till we drop, eh?” Marcel let out a surprised groan and continued to grunt unintelligibly as the beautiful reporter continued to suck him like a demoness from hell. Within a couple minutes, he was ready to empty his balls again. Nora eagerly milked him to completion and swallowed her reward with pleasure.

Marcel sat back on the bed, exhausted. “You certainly weren’t acting, that’s for sure,” he whispered after a few seconds. “Look at us. This place certainly changed us, eh?”

Nora shrugged. “Changed? Meh, perhaps a tiny bit... But this place certainly made me appreciate you more. It made me realize how wonderful you are, Marce. I think… all those years we worked together, I took you for granted. Took advantage of your loyalty, even. Never considered your feelings. You deserve better than that. Look at all these assholes around us, ugly psychopaths, drowning in pussy… You are a god compared to them.”

“Oh my,” smiled Marcel. “Well, apology accepted.” He pulled the girl up, and kissed her on the forehead. “I wasn’t complaining, you know. I was fine with th-”

“No, I mean it. These past few days, however shockingly terrible they had been, made me realize one good thing. I have a new outlook on life now. I want to make your life better like you made mine all those years. I’m your girl. Whenever you get a boner, pull me aside and stick it in the hole of your preference. Let me relieve you, serve you, pleasure you, okay?”

Marcel looked into the young woman’s eyes, unable to say anything. No, Nora certainly wasn’t playing a role for the benefit of the listening devices in the room. The tears at the corners of her eyes were certainly real. He wanted to return the compliment, but he was unable to come up with a meaningful response. Instead, he grabbed her and placed her on his lap, pulled her nighty up and panties aside, then penetrated her wet tight pussy.

Nora moaned loudly. Her dulcet tone of voice worked like a magic spell on the big guy. Without thinking, he pulled her arms behind her back and held her wrists in his left fist, grabbed her by the throat and started to use her slender body as a fucktoy.

“Please…” she moaned, “rough me up. When you slapped me last night… I liked it. I liked it a lot.”

She didn’t need to ask twice. The moment she finished her plea, Marcel felt a mysterious force take control of his muscles. He let go of her throat and slapped the quivering woman across the face twice, first on the left cheek, then on the right. Nora let out a shriek and kept moaning as the big man continued to bounce her on his dick.

“Yes!” she exhaled, “I’m close. Please… please let me cum! Please let me cum, Marce!”



1719542908704.png


“Of course, babe,” said the man and grabbed her by the waist, lifted her up, and shoved his rod deep inside her. He picked up the pace until her breathy moans quickened to a peak of silent ecstasy. When her body started to shake violently at the very end, his cock reached that point as well. Her vaginal muscles continued to contract and milk his throbbing monster for a few more seconds. Then they collapsed onto the bed, fully drained.

“It was great!”

They raised their heads to find Melody standing at the door, blushing.

“I’m glad you feel more comfortable serving our master now,” said the sexretary, smiling unconvincingly. “I wish I was here to help you-“

“Okay, slow down, sister,” chuckled Nora. “I remember your long speech about that, yes. But I’m not going to start calling him ‘master’ just yet.” She kissed the man on the cheek and sat up. “So, any good news? You talked to this co-worker of yours?”

“Um… Yes, I did,” Melody replied. “She’ll ask her sister if she’s… willing to talk to you, discreetly. She’ll let me know in a couple of hours.”

“Ah! That’s not a definite no, I guess,” Marcel smiled. “See? What did I tell you?”

“Anything else I can help you with?” asked Melody, her eyes fixed on Marcel’s glistening penis, now calmly resting between his muscled thighs.

“Yes,” replied Nora, and picked up a book from the nightstand. “I want to meet this woman. As soon as possible.”

Melody took the book and read the title aloud. “She Exists for His Pleasure Only… by Agata Matryschek, PhD.” A tiny smile appeared at the corner of her lips.

“You’re familiar with this woman?”

“Of course, everybody is. She is a huge celebrity,” replied Melody, jovially. “Actually, this book is required reading for all female college students. I have read it twice, cover to cover” She handed the tome back to Nora. “But I knew of her even before she rose to prominence. She happens to be from my hometown. Born and raised in the neighboring farm. Next door, essentially.”


* * *

The short flight to the Eville-Snatchfield Airport was eventless. Of course, a number of female passengers and strewardesses were abused and raped during the flight, but the two Saharan journalists barely noticed the commotion. After all, it was an ordinary occurrence in the daily life of Pussiana. It was only annoying because the loud moaning kept Nora form taking her usual perfect flight-nap.

1719550201765.png



Her embarrassment was intense when she caught herself getting angry at the stewardess for crying too loudly, instead of the asshole violating her in the ass. Was she already jaded enough to find this monstrous behavior normal or acceptable? Utterly ashamed, she barely spoke during the taxi ride from the airport.

Snatchfield University was a prestigious academy located midway between the former industrial powerhouse Snatchfield and it’s smaller southern neighbor E-ville. Its humanities department was considered one of the best in the country, and Dr. Agata Matryschek was their big star. She was an ardent believer of natural gender hierarchy, and a staunch defender of Androcracy, its political manifestation. She was, in every sense of the word, a traitor in Nora’s eyes. Probably just an articulate simpleton, parroting superficially convincing but ultimately meaningless half-arguments, she thought. History had seen countless ideologically-motivated whores like that, spewing pseudo-scientific bullcrap in a rather plausible way.

Regardless, this Dr. Matryschek was infinitely interesting. An anomaly in every way. She was a well-respected female in an inherently misogynistic society. She had written numerous academic and popular books and appeared on state TV often. She was a household name, recognized by men and women alike. Her theories were held in high regard and often compared to the writings of Marteau and other fathers of the revolution. She even had a minor comic book character inspired by her, called “The Professa.” Shockingly, it was her ideas that fascinated the nation, not the size of her boobs.

Although… her boobs looked excellent too, Nora had to admit. She didn’t have to imagine. There was a fully nude image of her keeling at the back of her book, and the illustrations inside exclusively featured her tastefully photographed nude form, often bound in extremely degrading poses.

The taxi dropped the trio in front of the Humanities Department. It was a sunny day. Most of the students were on the quad, studying, chatting, raping, having a good time. Once again, Nora barely noticed the abuse. Her unusual lack of rage was unsettling, to say the least.

Melody led the two journalists through serpentine corridors. Nora noted that there were no female scholars in the entire department. Could their professor be the only one without a dick in the entire faculty?

The blonde sexretary finally stopped in front of a door that read “Dr. Agata Matryschek.” Nora could see that the girl’s hands were shaking with excitement. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
 

The Journey - 26​


“Come in!”

Melody opened the door and entered with a face redder than a traffic light. Dr. Agata Matryschek was a true legend. She remembered the time the professor visited her hometown years ago. Melody was nine or ten, walking downtown with her family. She saw her best friend Agneta Konstig in front of the hardware store and ran towards her. Agneta was holding a beautiful woman’s hand. Someone she had never seen before. A tall, exceptionally gorgeous young woman, standing upright, exuding grace and strength. It was like she was giving off a natural light, like in the movies. When she talked, everybody stopped and listened to her. Even men looked at her in the eyes, without interrupting her or giving her orders. It was a strange thing to behold.

It was the only time Melody had seen Agata in the flesh, but from that moment on, the doctor became her heroine. As a kid, she didn’t know what she’d done, what she preached. She just wanted to be her.

Nora waited for a moment for Melody to introduce them, but the blonde seemed to be frozen with a weird expression on her face. She almost looked like a cartoon. Was steam coming out of her ears?

“Good afternoon, Dr Matryschek,” she said, and extended her hand. “I’m Nora Jasiri, freelance journalist and documentarian. This is my partner in crime Marcel Nguvu. He’ll be assisting me and filming us.” She paused and turned to Melody, whose blushing face was now glistening with sweat. “And this is our guide Ms Melody Svinina, from the Ministry of Propaganda.”

1719550262429.png

“Very nice to meet you,” smiled Agata and shook Nora’s hand. It was a confident, exceptionally assertive shake, Nora thought. Were they already fighting for dominance?

“Svinina?” Agata turned to Melody. “Are you, by any chance, related to the Svinins of Old Hickory?”

“Yes, yes I am,” said Melody with the biggest smile Nora had ever seen. “Such an honor to meet you again, Ms Konstig. I mean… Dr Matryschek. I met you as a kid once and…”

“You’re Agneta’s friend,” said Agata. Yes, I remember you.”

“Oh my god!” exhaled Melody.

“I see no band, no horns. You did well for yourself, didn’t you? It’s been a while. How are your parents?”

“F-fine,” Melody stammered.

“Thank you for agreeing to talk to us,” said Nora, when their guide froze once again. “It’s very hard to find a female to talk to without seeking official permission around here.”

“Well, all women need supervision. Some more than others,” replied the other and looked at Marcel. “Please, have a seat.”

Nora pulled a chair to face Agata’s and sat down. Marcel took his place on the leather couch half covered with books and placed his camera on a tripod, and Melody leaned on a wall behind him.

“So, you were raised on a cowgirl farm like our sweet Melody, eh? How come you’re a part of a faculty and not a herd?”

“You’re off by several years, Ms Jasiri,” chuckled the professor. “When I left home, the north was still known as ‘the grape country,’ not ‘the rape country.’ I was raised in a very religious home, almost like a nun. I had the urges, but didn’t know what they were. Sex wasn’t something we could talk about. I started to explore my true nature only after I started university. There I found my submissive side, and an insatiable drive to please men. ”

“So, you were a real farmer’s daughter, a sinner nun, and a submissive college girl. In short, a pornographer’s dream?”

Agata laughed out loud. “Yes, I guess I was.” She leaned forward as if she was going to share a secret. “You know what, I actually played a small part in a porn film back then. Sucked several cocks. I wore a mask the entire time though. You want to hear the story?”

“Perhaps later,” said Nora. “I’m more interested in the respected theoretician of Androcracy, rather than the promiscuous college girl.”

“As you wish.” The professor turned to Melody, who was listening with her mouth wide open. “Don’t worry. I’ll tell you after.”

Nora wasn’t amused at all. “Let’s not waste any time. You know why I’m here. You know what my main question is going to be.”

“I know that you think I’m either a brainwashed idiot or an amoral grifter. You already judged our system against some universal constant you have in your mind, according to a set of imaginary universal values. Our system is a failure, amoral and unjust, because it's based on a hierarchy of genders? I have news for you, Ms Jasiri, all regimes past and present are systems of hierarchy, systems of oppression, unjust and amoral. All those elements remain very much intact in every system, including yours. In ours, it’s built around sexes. In others, it’s class, wealth, ethnicity, castes… Castes, Ms Jasiri, castes, in the 21st century!”

“Cultural relativism? Is that your answer? I have to say I’m a little disappointed.” She picked up Agata’s book and waved it around. “You don’t talk about any of that stuff in this. You simply tell the girls to shut up and obey the men in their lives, suck their cocks and make them a sandwich afterwards.”

Agata smiled. “Picture this, Ms Jasiri. You find yourself in the middle of a river, struggling to stay afloat, heavy storm, pouring rain, freezing cold. There are dangerous predators in the water, whirlpools, unseen stuff that could catch your feet and pull you down. The wild current takes you in one direction, and you know you should go towards the opposite direction. What would you do? Swim against the current, get tired and drown?”

“Metaphors, huh? OK, I’ll play. I guess I’ll look for a way to save myself first. Swim to the closest shore. Find a floating object, catch a branch.”

“Exactly. That’s simply what I do. Show women the shortest and easiest path to safety. I cannot simply hand them a map to their dream castle and let them walk into the dark deadly forest in their way. Rather lost and hungry than dead and eaten.”

“Oh, I see. So all that cultural relativism bullshit aside, you actually know that there are universal norms, and yours is the amoral choice?”

“Amoral? No, Ms Jasiri, mine is the moral option. I save lives with the flick of a pen, while an FLF commander sends young girls to their deaths every time she attacks a slave convoy.”

“Fascinating!” exclaimed Nora. “You are the hero of your story, of course. Me, I see no difference between you and many monsters I have talked to to this day. You are still a villain in my book. Albeit, a minor one, with no real power. But at least you’re mildly interesting.”

Agata leaned back and smiled. “I was wondering when you’d go for my jugular. After you contacted me, I watched a few of your interviews with these… monsters. Less interesting, but with real power, eh? I have to say, I admire your technique. You begin as a cute little girl, big Cheshire smile, naive and open minded, ready to learn from their vast experience and wisdom. Putting those genocidal warlords at ease without any effort. You prick them occasionally with surgical jabs, but of course they suspect nothing. They could be stupid mistakes, made by a stupid girl. You patiently wait for an opportunity and courageously take a big bite at the right moment. Risky, but effective. They often get angry and spill their guts, after which you retreat very carefully. I just love it. It’s like watching a master at work.”

“Well, thank you for the kind words.” replied Nora, trying to seem unaffected, “You still didn’t answer my-“

“You posed no question. You made a judgement to provoke me. It didn’t work, not because I’m smarter than your run-of-the-mill jungle guerilla, but because I‘m not hiding anything. I’m an open book. Just tell me the page you want to read.”

“Then let me reformulate. Open book, you said.” Nora raised the tome she was holding. “Do you actually believe the stuff in this book, ‘She Exists for his Pleasure Only?” Do you exist for men’s pleasure? Your husband’s? Others?”

“Believe? I’m a scientist, Ms Jasiri… I don’t believe. I observe and theorize. My observations about the world are sound.”

“The world? Or your own little world?”

“Yes, of course, where else? That’s what I know and can observe. Whatever lies beyond is out of my reach. I can’t evaluate what I can’t see.” She paused for a long moment and leaned forward to meet Nora’s angry gaze. “Regardless, your inquiry is flawed. You ask two different questions. Do I stand by the statements in that book and many other I’ve written, and do I believe that I exist for men’s pleasure. The answer to both are yes, but they are hardly related.”

“How so?”

“I do believe that I exist to please men. All men in theory, but in practice, my husband. This is not a conclusion I have reached after rational contemplation or a cost-benefit analysis, this is simply the point of bliss I have discovered through a long process of soul searching. I don’t… cannot know why. Nature or nurture? Perhaps a past trauma? Permanent damage of oppressive religious upbringing? Who knows! What I do know is serving and satisfying men does something magical to my brain chemistry.” She turned to Marcel and smiled. “When I suck a big strong cock and feel it move to the rhythm of my tongue… when it finally explodes in my mouth… when a strong hand grabs me by the hair and slaps me around, throws me on the floor and fucks me in the ass violently. I feel at home, happy, fulfilled throughout.” She turned back to Nora again. “Surely you understand, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do,” Nora replied, surprising her two companions, “Would you like to serve him while we talk? Marcel fucks well. Both Melody and I can attest to that.”

Marcel moved uncomfortably in his seat. Was Nora playing a game with the professor? She was known to come up with new ways to crack her tougher interviewees whenever her usual methods failed, but this one was certainly unprecedented.

“A new interviewing tactic?” asked Agata with an intrigued smile. “You adapt to your surroundings fast and use the new rules to your advantage. A clear sign of high intelligence.” She looked at Marcel for a moment and picked up her phone. She dialled a number and waited for a few seconds.

A click was heard and male voice replied. “Dear,” started the professor, “I’m with a reporter from the Saharan Republic and she asked me to serve his male colleague during our interview. Would you allow me to pleasure him?”

The stunned trio waited wide-eyed for the man on the other side to reply. “Thank you, dear. See you at five?” said Agata and ended the call. Then she turned to Marcel and smiled. “I’d absolutely love to begin by sucking your cock, Mr Nguvu, but that would considerably limit my ability to answer questions. May I interest you in one of my other fuckholes instead?”

Marcel froze for a moment, much like Melody on the other side of the room.

“He’d like to start with your vagina,” said Nora. “Perhaps switch to your ass after a while, and of course finish in your mouth, after I’m done with the questions.”

“Sounds perfect,” said Agata and smiled. “The funny thing is, you are probably thinking that we are playing a chicken game, but this is actually routine for me. I didn’t even need to ask for permission. I made the call to make a point. My husband just chided me for bothering him for such a trivial thing. I’ll be punished for that with a flogging at five o clock.”

“No, not at all,” said Nora. “I really want to see how you handle it.”

“The interview? Or his cock?”

“Both. I love Marcel, and will do anything to pleasure him. This is the perfect opportunity to do that while I’m also doing my job, don’t you think?”

Marcel wasn’t sure about how to feel about this. In Pussiana, it was customary for two men to exchange their women before a formal meeting. In a complete role reversal, he was the sex object who was traded between two women. It was surreal, to say the least.

Then he heard what Nora has just said. She loved him?

“He is definitely a wonderful specimen,” said Agata. More objectification? “I can’t wait to start serving him.” She stood up and started to unbutton her shirt. “I hope you don’t mind if I put away my clothes myself, Master Nguvu. I have a meeting in a couple hours, and I don’t have a spare outfit.”

“He does mind,” said Nora. “Stop undressing, Dr. Matryschek. You cannot dictate the terms during a proper rape.” She turned to her still-confused companion. “Marcel, would you please disrobe and fuck Dr Matrychek the way you like?”

Agata smiled and dropped her hands to the sides. Then she joined her wrists at her back, which made her half-bared cleavage thrust forward invitingly.

Marcel stood up and approached Agata, still somewhat befuddled, almost like a newly turned zombie. He didn’t like the way Nora ambushed him, but the offer was too good to be true. Matryschek combined everything he liked in a woman. Intelligence, a dark sense of humor, tall slender figure, and a desire to please. A gorgeous celebrity professor? She was a dream come true.

As Nora and Melody watched with widened eyes, he grabbed the professor’s shirt with both hands and pulled it apart violently. Agata gasped, buttons popped, and the cloth ripped. freed from their tight prison, her big tits lunged forward and bounced around. Marcel grabbed the woman by the hair and pulled her head back, pushing her bare chest forward. He grabbed one of her big boobs and gave it a good squeeze, then slapped them one by one. She moaned softly in response.

He pulled her up to her tiptoes and turned her body around, then grabbed her skirt and pulled it to her waist. “No underwear?” He slapped and squeezed her ass-cheeks a few times. Agata continued to moan and whimper quietly.

Without letting her hair go, the big man dragged the woman back to her chair. He sat down and took his erect cock out. Agata didn’t need any more direction. She gently sat down on the steely rod until its tip parted her labia, at which point Marcel grabbed her by the waist and impaled the woman violently. This time Agata let out a loud moan and surrendered herself to Marcel’s strong hands.


1719550321407.png

Nora leaned back and watched as Marcel started to move the woman up and down his shaft. As she watched her partner fuck a married woman in front of her, she suddenly realized how surreal this situation was. She looked down to her notes in order to concentrate and pick a question to start with, but all she could think of was Matryschek’s face contorted with pure bliss. she wasn’t exaggerating before. The woman was truly and completely transformed by Marcel’s touch, even before he shoved his cock in her tight body.

“Whenever you’re ready, Ms Jasiri,” moaned the professor. “As I said, open book.”
 

Revolution - 16​


Aggie woke up with a strange feeling. Was it a smile on her face?

She raised er head to check Laila. Her slutty roommate was sleeping like a log, with her big juicy butt sticking out of the bed as usual. Aggie was relieved. She was trying to avoid Laila as much as possible because of her traumatic encounters with her ex, Jeremy.

She also didn’t want to be interrogated about the clothes she borrowed to go to the club the night before… Especially about the pants which were stained with a sticky white substance in a few places.

She picked up her stuff and tiptoed out of the room. Dr Lagno’s class was in two hours, but before that, she was supposed to meet her assistant to discuss the research reports she was given to go over.

Of course she wasn’t excited about the reports. What made her blood run faster was the task she was given last night.

She was going to blow him in payment for the orgasm she received at the club.

“Aggie, wait up!”

She slowed down for a moment, but didn’t bother to turn to look at the girl running towards her. It was Bridgette, the freckled traitor who almost served her butt to a bunch of strangers on a silver platter last night. She continued to walk, but the redhead eventually caught up with her.

“Stop for a moment, please. I just want to apologize.”

“Apologize? You lured me into a rape trap. It wasn’t just on a whim either. Apparently you and your little gang planned this for weeks. That bitch hacked my computer to track my porn habits and who knows what else!”

“Yes, I’m guilty of all that,” said the girl, “but I had to. I’m a slave.”

“You’re a slave? I know you’re a slave. That much was clear last night. What the fuck are you talking about?”

“No, you don’t understand. I mean I’m a slave. A slave slave. 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. It’s a full commitment.”

“Get out of here,” said Aggie with a mocking wave and continued to walk away. Bridgette followed her like a sad puppy.

“I know you feel betrayed,” she started, but immediately swallowed the rest of her words when Aggie looked at her with fire in her eyes. She tried again after three more steps.“I mean, you are betrayed. I betrayed you. I deceived you and lured you into a trap, that’s for sure. I’m so sorry about that. I feel really really really bad, because I really like you, and value our friendship.”

Aggie stopped to scold the girl again. “Our friendship? We are not friends, you treacherous bitch! You almost had me gangraped.” She turned again to walk away. This time Bridgette didn’t follow.

“Perhaps,” she yelled as Aggie climbed the stairs of the humanities department. “But look at what happened at the end. I watched you two together. Don’t even bother to tell me you didn’t wake up with a smile on your face this morning.”

The complete accuracy of Bridgette’s last words made Aggie angrier. She stopped at the door and turned to yell obscenities at the redhead, but she decided not to. She wasn’t a virgin any more, but she was still a well-raised northerner. She took a deep breath and steadied herself down. “Go to hell, Slurpslut,” she said calmly. Then she opened the door and walked in. “I’ll meet you there,” she whispered under her breath.

Despite the gravity of her betrayal, Aggie knew well that she wouldn’t be able to stay mad at that little ball of freckles for long. It was not in her nature, and even if it was, Bridgette was not the type of person you could hate forever. That little cutie possessed an irresistible charm.

Furthermore, the redhead had a point. Aggie was happy about how the night ended. It was a dream come true.

She found herself in front of his office a minute later. She froze for a moment, with her hand raised ready to knock. Questions rushed into her head. What happened last night had changed everything. What would be the dynamic between them now? How should she address him? How should she behave around him?

“No need to be scared.”

Aggie shrieked and and jumped. The Vampire was standing right behind him, with a reassuring warm smile. “Right on time, Miss Konstig,” he said, and opened the door for her. “Please, come in.” Aggie smiled and walked in.

He closed the door and locked it, then sat down on the corner of his desk. “How are we feeling today?” he asked. “Not too tired, I hope. Hangover?”

“No,” replied Aggie back to her shy self. She didn’t know what to say.

“Any second thoughts? Do you miss it?”

“Miss what?”

He smiled. “Your virginity. You generously gave it to me last night. I know it is a very important thing where you hail from.”

“Oh! Yes, thank you. I don’t know… I…” As she replied, Aggie realised that she didn’t miss it at all. She didn’t care. It was the a liberating feeling. She was finally free from the fear of losing it. She was glad that it was Leo who made her a woman. But of course, she wasn’t going to tell him that.

“The craze about that tiny membrane fascinates me,” continued the man. “Its existence is sign of the woman’s purity, high morals, restraint. It has to be properly transferred with ceremony, before god, in front of witnesses, friend and family. A father hands it over to a son. The daughter has no problem with it. It’s in the book, it’s in the sermons, it’s in the scary bed time stories mothers tell their daughters. Keep it safe, they all tell her. Losing it improperly immediately turns a chaste princess into a filthy whore.”

“Do you think… Do you think I’m a whore?” stammered Aggie. “I didn’t want to give it away. They trapped me… gave me no choice. I…”

“You misunderstood me,” he smiled. “I don’t think losing your hymen changed you in a significant way. It certainly didn’t change you from an angel into a whore.” He leaned forward and looked into the girl’s eyes. “You were never an angel, Miss Konstig. You have always been a filthy whore.”

“Wha-”

Aggie froze. The vampire held her gaze with his piercing eyes and half-smile for a few more seconds. She felt weak, and started sweating. Her hands started to shake and knees buckled. It was both too hot and too cold all of a sudden. She felt faint.

“But it changed something,” continued the man without averting his eyes. Was he even blinking? “It changed the dynamic between us. You now belong to me.”

“I… what?” whimpered Aggie, unable to comprehend.

“On your knees, Miss Konstig.”

Aggie felt her brain catch on fire and pulsate in her skull. She opened her mouth to say no. How dare he say such a thing? Who the hell he thought he wa-

But before she could utter a word, her knees hit the floor. She looked down, flabbergasted. She didn’t move, she was sure of that. Perhaps she stayed put but the entire universe rose a bit? Yes, that must have been the case, most definitely.

The TA pulled the rolling office chair in front of her and sat down. He parted his legs and pulled himself closer to the stunned girl. Aggie found herself facing his bulging crotch. She could almost see his cock in there, moving, enlarging, trying to burst out and grab her by the throat. It was clear what he expected her to do.

“You remember your promise, I hope.”

“Yes,” she exhaled, inaudibly. “Of course, I came here to… I wanted to…”

He didn’t say anything, only stared at her. He looked relaxed and calm, while Aggie had a thunderstorm raging inside her brain. After a long moment of indecision, she raised her shaky arms in order to unzip his pants.

“Na-ah!” said the man. “No hands, Miss Konstig.”

It took Aggie a few seconds to understand what he meant. She took a deep breath to muster her strength. Then she joined her wrists at the back and leaned forward to grab the zipper with her teeth. She felt awkward and clumsy as she pulled it down. When she rose her head again to grab his underpants, his musk hit her like a magic spell. It was familiar, somehow, and intimidating too. It was like her brain recognized it from all the sexual dreams she ever had. Was it even possible to have olfactory sensation in one’s dreams? It didn’t matter. Now she knew for certain that she had to submit to him… submit to this cock.

She grabbed the waistband and pulled down. His erect member sprang out like a cobra and swung from side to side, giving the young girl a jump scare. She let go of his underpants in panic and fell back on her heels.

He remained relaxed, now with a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips. It wasn’t how Aggie pictured it would be. He was calm, patient, almost apathetic. He didn’t give her any commands or instructions. There was no gratuitous verbal abuse like in the porn movies she watched every night.

Yes, he kinda called her a filthy whore a few minutes ago, but it was more like a statement of fact, almost academic. Aggie had always known that she was a filthy whore inside. And now that hypothesis was “peer-reviewed” and confirmed to be valid.

Leo wasn’t a talker. He was calm and laconic, but commanding all the same. The night before Aggie had seen him control two beautiful women only by simple orders, subtle gestures, and stern looks. And now he was doing it without even saying anything. Aggie instinctively knew what she was supposed to do, and she was following his unvoiced commands like she was under his thrall.

Perhaps that was exactly why Bridgett called him The Vampire.

As soon as she gathered enough courage, she leaned forward and gave the tip of his organ a little kiss. She didn’t know why she did that. Was it learned behavior from the movies she watched? It didn’t matter. She continued to give it gentle, full-lipped kisses along the shaft. Up, and down, then up again. Finally she parted her lips and took the bulbous head in her mouth. She used her tongue to probe around its contours and pressed her head down to swallow more of it. She could now feel her inner whore taking over her motor functions. That horny bitch was already in control of her hormones anyway.


1719550548239.png


Once she had half of his shaft in her mouth, she felt the organ move inside. It was a pulse, a throb, a faint one, but it excited her infinitely. Her brain lit up, and she went deeper hungrily. He was quite big, and she wasn’t sure if she would be able to fit it all in, but she was determined to try. She felt it hit the back of her throat. Her gag reflex kicked in and she choked for a moment, but managed to relax and adjust surprisingly well. His dick found its way into her throat, and her button nose hit his crotch. Her watering eyes opened with surprise. She made it? She deepthroated him in her first try?

Like the filthy whore she was!

Leo was still in full control of his emotions and calmly watching her struggle to fit his entire meat in her inexperienced throat, but Aggie could now clearly feel him throb rhythmically. It was such a satisfying feeling. It felt like her entire head was filled with cock, but she somehow managed to free her tongue to massage him. This last move made him flinch noticeably, giving Aggie another jolt of satisfaction. Her enthusiasm and excitement surged. She started to move her head, confidently and fluently. She was in her natural element. She was pleasing a man. She was serving a superior.

She brought her knees closer to him to have better leverage and started to suck him at a quicker pace, but not in a hurry. She didn’t want him to climax too quickly. She wanted to suck him hard and long. She loved the feeling. The taste, the smell, the way it stretched her lips, filled her mouth, and bulged her throat, the pride and fulfilment she felt whenever he reacted to her moves. It was magical. She was in heaven.

And this was only a blowjob.

“You have one minute, Miss Konstig” he said all of a sudden.

Aggie looked up, confused. He wasn’t enjoying this as much as she was? Was she taking too long? Perhaps her rhythm was all wrong. Her confidence was shattered. She bowed down and continued to suck him, faster and deeper. She had to please him at all costs. She needed him to like her. She wanted to do this again… every morning… and evening… forever.

Her rhythm turned uneven, erratic, hysterical. As time passed, she started to suck on his rod like a wild animal, ravenously. What would happen if she failed to make him cum within the time limit? Leo seemed calm as a cucumber as she bobbed on his dick like a panicked woodpecker. She got more and more desperate with every passed second. Just when she was about to accept defeat, he started to move in her mouth all of a sudden. Her entire body reacted immediately. Revitalized, she pulled her knees together and straightened up, her moves got more focused, rhythmic, dance-like.

It worked. His steely rod huffed and puffed and finally exploded. Aggie’s mouth was filled with warm salty goo. He produced so much, she was unable to keep it all inside. Some of it leaked out and dribbled down her chin, a few drops came out of her nose… and Aggie could almost swear that some seeped into her brain.

“Swallow!”

Brief and clear command, which Aggie immediately followed. She pulled her head up and let his cock pop out of her pursed lips, gulped the liquid in her mouth and licked her lips to catch the escaped drops of semen. She kept her eyes lowered as she pulled away from him and sat back on her heels. She was at the threshold of full satisfaction. The only thing she needed to reach that peak of bliss was a pat on the head and a “good girl.”

“Well done, Miss Konstig,” he said, and straightened up in his chair. “Your debt is paid.”

Aggie finally found the courage to look up. She was happy to hear that he was satisfied with her, but the way he finished his sentence made her feel uneasy.

“What does that mean?” she asked. “You’re done with m-… I mean, are we done? As if yesterday never happened?”

“Of course not,” He smiled. “As I said before, you now belong to me. I just didn’t decide what to do with you yet.”

Aggie blushed. Every time he said she belonged to him, her brain was catching on fire. She knew she had to be outraged. She had to protest and perhaps even slap him for his insolence. But her response was to remain on her knees, with her head bowed down. He stood up and put his hand gently on her cheek. She looked up and smiled. She now knew that it was her destiny. Everything she did, everything that happened to her led her here, at his feet.

But, perhaps, she was getting ahead of herself.

“Don’t you already have a girlfriend?” she asked, heart in mouth, “the woman, at the club last night.”

“I have many girlfriends,” smiled Leo. “Some regulars and some… irregulars.”

“She was one of the regulars?” Aggie stopped herself just in time before revealing that she had seen that woman with the huge tits before, the day she snuck in his office. The poor thing was stuck in the cabinet, restrained with straps, and blindfolded by a sensory deprivation hood. She remembered the terror she felt when Leo returned unexpectedly. She panicked and hid under his desk, on which the man threw the restrained woman and railed her mercilessly. It was one of the most harrowing experiences Aggie ever had… She had been dreaming about it every night as she touched herself.

“She is one of the regulars,” he confirmed. “You’ll be one of the regulars too. Of course, we are working together. We see each other several times a week.”

“Oh my god!” exclaimed Aggie. “The meeting with Dr. Lagno! I totally forgot about the time. We are late! She will be mad.”

“Don’t worry, Miss Konstig,” said the TA, and walked over to the cabinet. He opened it, reached in and pulled out a hooded woman, tightly bound exactly like the time Aggie found her. He slapped her big tits for a few times, turned her fully exposed body to face Aggie, straightened her up on her knees, and pulled her hood up.

“Dr Lagno!” yelled Aggie. Her professor stared back at her, with an exhausted look in her eyes, a ball-gag in her mouth, and drool all over her chin and neck. A clit massager placed between her legs was buzzing enthusiastically.

“As you can see, our good professor is a little tied-up herself,” smiled Leo, as he grabbed the woman’s right tit and gave it a good squeeze. “She won’t be mad at all.”


1719550593928.png
 
Holy psychology, Batman!
Aggie was Agata Matrischek, and I had no clue. Now I feel dumb (And my craving for "Revolution" chapter has yet increased...It was already pretty substantial.)
 

The Journey - 27​


“What happened to your professor,” asked Nora, “Dr Lagno, was it?”

Agata managed to smile as Marcel continued to fuck her slowly on his lap. “We served together for a while. She, I, and a couple other girls. She was Leo’s favorite, and I was-”

“I meant when the Revolution happened,” Nora interrupted. “I understand that she was not the type of woman the Fist and Arrow would have tolerated in such an important position.”

“Oh!…Yes…” Nora noticed Agata’s quiet moans of pleasure took a slight dip. “Unfortunately, she wasn’t compliant…. reasonable… when she had to. She was sent to an indoctrination camp after the Revolution. I don’t really know what happened to her after that.”

Nora didn’t say anything. Silence would work better in such moments.

“After less than a year, Leo and I got married,” the professor continued. “Bridget and Laila went their own ways, but Felicia stayed. She remained our mentor and sex slave. Even after I got pregnant, had my baby boy… The four of us, we had a pretty good life before the revolution.” Agata paused and turned to Melody, whose face changed immediately. “Sorry dear. You can relax. Sometimes it’s okay to talk about the pre-revolutionary times. It’s just history.” Melody smiled nervously.

“These youngsters, they get very uncomfortable when someone mentions the pre-revolutionary era in a slightly positive way. It was actually made a crime, you know. For women, of course.” Nora nodded. “So, I’ll ask you to be careful while quoting me on that. I’m ashamed to say, I’m too old to be gangraped for a week in a female correctional facility.”

“Would they do that to the heroine of the androcracy?” asked Nora, with a slight smirk. For a moment she pictured a bound Agata made airtight by a swarm of cocks. She tried to shake the image off immediately, but it was too late. She was getting wetter and wetter since Marcel started fucking the woman.


1725077520829.png



“Of course. No woman is above the law. Some men are, sure, but not women. Actually, they would definitely make an example out of me. A televised event, perhaps.” She smiled.

Nora remained silent for a long moment. “Is this the real reason you write these books? To save lives, like you said earlier. You want women to see ‘reason’ and be ‘compliant.’ So they won’t end up as martyrs like Dr Lagno.”

Agata held her breath. Marcel slowed down and stopped fucking the professor.

“All this… Are you simply punishing yourself for not being as brave as your friend and mentor, Dr Matryschek?” asked Nora. “Is this simply survivor’s guilt?”

Agata’s face contorted for a moment, but eventually settled into a bitter smile. “I was wrong before,” she said. “This is the moment you go for my jugular.” She started to move on Marcel’s cock herself. “The answer is yes and no. Do I regret not doing all I could do to save her? Yes. I should have done more. I should have done more to make her see… Do I punish myself for it? No.” She paused. “No… I don’t think so.”

Nora didn’t seem satisfied by her answer. “Then let me punish you for that, shameless whore,” she said, calmly. “Marcel, will you grab her by her wrists and neck for me?” The big man was enjoying this too much to second-guess Nora’s actions. He let Agata’s waist go and held her the way his companion requested. The professor gasped as he slammed his cock into her mercilessly.

“She looks too comfortable,” Nora said. “Perhaps you should pull it out of her pussy and shove into her ass? This fucking traitor doesn’t deserve an iota of pleasure, after all.” Marcel nodded and pulled the doctor’s well-fucked body up. His huge member popped out of her fuckhole and swung around, like a cobra looking for its prey.

Nora turned to the stunned sexretary, who seemed to be at the verge of fainting. “Melody, please help Marcel find his target.” Melody looked at Nora, befuddled, unable to move or say anything. “Now, you little slut. Grab that cock and shove it in her ass!”

Her forceful tone made the young woman launch towards Marcel and grab his steely rod. She held it upright and froze as the man lowered Agata back down. She directed it to the professor’s anal opening and watched incredulously as the organ penetrated her slowly. Agata let out a pained groan when the head of the penis disappeared inside her, but didn’t protest. Marcel pushed her further down, and finally impaled her fully on his huge cock. When her bum hit his crotch, a louder moan escaped the professor’s parted full lips. She was visibly in pain, but her voice signaled a sense of fulfillment.

“Pound her hard,” commanded Nora, “show no mercy.” Marcel didn’t even need to hear that. He was moving Agata on his cock like a lightweight masturbatory toy already. Her secondary fuckhole felt much more tighter, welcoming and ravenous. It was resisting him exactly the right amount. His dick was in heaven.

“Who’s the one raping me? Mr Nguvu, or you?” moaned Agata as the big guy continued to sodomize her.

“I guess I am,” said Nora. “Marcel is too nice a guy to commit such an heinous act, but I am certainly capable of turning into a ruthless bitch when necessary.” She turned to Melody again. “Give me his belt!”

It took the girl a few seconds to understand what the beautiful Saharan wanted. She then reached for Marcel’s pants, unbuckled his belt and pulled it out. Nora impatiently grabbed it from her and wrapped it around her own hand. Realizing what was about to happen, the professor straightened her upper body up and arched backwards, exposing her bare tits for a strapping. In spite of Nora’s efforts to make it as painful as possible, she was enjoying her impromptu anal rape too much. Marcel was attractive, strong, and had a marvelous cock. Her ass was stretched to the limit, her body was quivering with pleasure, and her mind was on fire.

Nora raised the belt, squinted her eyes and swung without warning. The leather strap landed right under the professor’s tits as they bounced up and down. Their tender undersides turned white for a millisecond and started to blush immediately. She shrieked in pain, but not as loud as Nora hoped. She raised her fist and swung once again, even faster than before. This time Agata’s shriek was even less satisfying for the Saharan. Worse, her victim was certainly enjoying her punishment too much. It was as if the professor’s body was able to absorb Nora’s cruel intent and turn it into pure pleasure.

1725077576963.png


This didn’t stop Nora, of course. She continued to swing again and again as her alluring, well-endowed target kept bouncing on Marcel’s cock rhythmically. She enjoyed hurting Agata too much, even more than torturing Melody at that tacky rape-hotel a couple days ago. Unlike poor Melody, this despicable traitor deserved this pain and more. Much much more. Unfortunately, the fucking weirdo loved it as much as Nora did.

“I’m glad I agreed to talk to you guys,” whimpered Agata, after a particularly hard series of hits sliced her meaty tits. “This interview is going much better than I expected.”

“Oh yeah? How so?” asked Nora, panting. Whipping another woman was more exhausting than she imagined.

“The moment I did my quick research about you, I knew this was going to be a duel of wills instead of a genuine exchange of ideas. You aren’t here to learn and observe, you are here to hit me. You wanted to hit someone since the moment you arrived. You wanted to hit the misogynistic assholes who treat you like a bug, but of course you cannot. What can you do with that impotent rage? Only thing you can lash out on is another woman. Me, or perhaps this young lady?” She turned to Melody. “Did she beat you up, Svinina?”

Melody opened her mouth but didn’t say anything.

“Oh my! She did, didn’t she?” Her breathy laugh was cut short by another angry bite of Nora’s belt. “I’m sure you didn’t have this look in your eyes while you were hitting this poor thing,” continued Agata, seemingly unaffected by the repeated lashes landing on her heavily bruised tits. “No, now she found the real enemy, the big bad whore, a traitor to her gender, a shameless collaborator. Now she, she deserves to be punished.”

“Pretty accurate,” said Nora. “I can see you read people well. A good ability to have to survive in this fucked up world, surely.”

“I do,” replied Agata, now visibly closer to a climax, “I have everything I need to survive and more, an unquenchable thirst for cock included.” She was rendered unable to speak for a few seconds, thanks to Marcel’s member throbbing deep inside her butt. “Who do I have to beg for an orgasm,” she groaned, “You, or your man?”

“You choose,” grinned Nora. “If you choose poorly, you won’t get one.”

“Would you please let me cum, Ms Jasiri?” begged the professor.

Nora hesitated with her belt raised for a second, then straightened up and took a step back.

“Very well. You may cum in three… two… one…”
 

The Journey - 28​


Nora’s head was still buzzing while they were waiting for the car to take them back to the airport. She was replaying the entire conversation in her mind as she sipped coffee absentmindedly at the cafeteria of the humanities department. The trio was surrounded by scenes of abuse as usual, but the sobs of young girls being violated was just white noise for the Saharans at this point.

Nora felt numb and exhausted mentally. It was the weirdest interview of her life. She wasn’t sure if she should call it that. An interview? It was more like a duel… with a lot of fucking.

Did she win? She thought so, but her victory wasn’t as satisfying as she hoped. Regardless of what the scoreboard in her mind said, Agata Matryschek seemed invincible throughout. She was simply impossible to hurt or humiliate. She felt no shame, because she wasn’t in control of her choices. She relinquished control right from the start in order not to feel shame for what gave her pleasure. And what gave her pleasure was pain and shame. Hold on… was that a paradox? A contradiction... circular logic? Nora couldn’t comprehend Matryschek’s mentality well enough to put into words, but on some level, she understood… the way the woman felt. Nora herself had a glimpse of that unsettlingly liberating feeling earlier, when Marcel slap-raped her and Melody a few nights ago. It could be great to give your worries a rest and simply enjoy the animalistic friction of flesh sometimes.

Still, that traitor had to be punished, somehow, and in the moment, Nora felt good doing that. She violently whipped the bitch’s tits, fucked her in the ass, and made her beg for a climax.

“Did you see her face when I denied her the orgasm at the last second,” she chuckled like a villain in a B-movie, and turned to Melody. “Sorry you had to see that, little slut. Never meet your heroes, eh?”

“You think you won that encounter?” replied the girl, with an uncharacteristically antagonistic tone. “You think you fought an epic battle with a demon, don’t you? I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but that was probably another Tuesday for her. That’s more or less a typical day of a working woman in Pussiana. Mine too.” She paused for a moment to let her words sink in. “But I have to admit, it was rather different. It was unusual in the sense that I had never seen a woman who enjoys it this much.”

Nora stared at the sexretary for a long moment, trying to find a good response. She wasn’t one to let the other have the last word.

Melody wasn't going to wait for her. “You said never meet your heroes, right? I’m glad I did. Before today, she was just a vision of grace and strength in a distant memory. Now I’ve seen it in person, and it was inspiring. She changed me. She changed you too.”

“Yeah? How so?” Nora failed to sound confident and unaffected.

“Who do you think left that encounter unscathed and who was forever transformed? You dropped all pretense of civility to attack her, again and again, and used your friend against his will in order to do so. You raped and tortured another human being. When you lunged at her, she simply stepped out of the way and let you fall face first into your animalistic desires. She turned you into a Pussianan with the snap of a finger.”

A long silence followed Melody’s calm, surprisingly incisive rant. Nora leaned back and reassessed the young sexretary’s words. She turned to Marcel after a couple minutes.

“I’m sorry I used you like that, Marce,” she apologized. “This little slut is right. It was wrong of me to do that.”

“Apology accepted,” exhaled Marcel and smiled, “No worries. I have to admit, it wasn’t the worst thing that happened to me during our time together. If I have to choose between a half-day hike through a tropical jungle and an hour with such a delectable goddess, I’d pick the latter every time.”

“A goddess, huh?”

“Well, she was kinda perfect in every way,” the man replied quickly, then changed his tone in order to appease his companion. “Of course, if you ignore the fact that she’s a goddamn traitor to her gender. What. a. bitch!”

Nora chuckled for a moment, but continued to mope. The more she thought about it, the less proud she became of her performance.

“The driver says he’ll be here in 15 minutes,” said Melody, looking at her smartphone. Nora could see something different in the girl’s face. Perhaps the sexretary was right about her too. The meeting with Agata unlocked some dark cellar in her mind, one she never knew existed. She felt… primal, wild. Pussianan libido enhancing drugs worked their magic to intensify her urges, surely. But the feeling itself, it was real, native to her own mind. She just knew it.

She suddenly stood up, drawing the attention of her two companions. “I think I forgot something upstairs,” she said. “My notes. I’ll just run and pick them up before the good professor leaves for her next rape or something.”

Marcel moved in his seat and raised his eyebrows. Of course, he was an expert on Nora, and knew right away that she was lying. Nora averted her eyes quickly and turned to Melody. “I’m sure you are dying to take Marce’s dick back in your mouth, little slut,” she said. “Why don’t you get on your knees and keep him entertained while I’m away. Don’t worry, I’ll be back before the car arrives.”

Melody didn’t need to be told twice. Before Nora could finish her sentence, she was already between the big man’s legs, unbuckling his belt with a big smile on her pretty face.

Nora rolled her eyes and turned around. She strode to the professor’s office in a jiffy and knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

She opened the door, stepped in, and closed it behind her in one fluid motion. Agata smiled, stood up and walked up to the Saharan.

“What took you so long?”

They stood face to face for a second and jumped on each other like wild cats in heat. Their lips locked in a long, passionate kiss before Nora pushed the professor back and slammed her to her bookcase. She grabbed her shirt and pulled it apart. Already damaged from the earlier rape, a huge chunk of the cloth came off and liberated the woman’s big tits. Nora threw the piece away and dove face first into the professor’s deep cleavage.

As the Saharan slobbered all over her chest, Agata used the opportunity to pull Nora’s jacket down and her shirt up. Once her boobs were liberated too, Nora rose again for another kiss. Their chests crashed and tits smooshed.

1725077679174.png




This time, Agata pushed the journalist back and onto her desk. Pinned down on her back, Nora pulled her legs up and apart to let in the professor, who quickly rolled her skirt up and reached for her pussy.

“No panties?” exhaled Agata. “Going native already?”

“Had to,” moaned Nora, “I’m getting dicked down every few hours since the day I arrived in your fucking country. Your fucking masters keep drugging us. They think we don’t know, but…”

“Oh, they know you know,” smiled Agata as she kissed Nora’s hardened nipples. “They also know that you like it too much to complain about it. You looooove it, don’t you? That big man’s huge cock, stretching your holes without mercy, again and again.”

“Goddammit! Yes, I do,” groaned Nora. “I hate it that I love it. I love it when he grabs me and throws me on the bed, holds me down, and uses me like a fucking blow-up doll.”

“That’s exactly what you are,” said Agata as she forced four fingers inside the Saharan beauty and started fisting her without mercy. “There is no shame about it. This thing here, it's designed to accommodate cocks and please men. I know it… you know it… every woman at some point feels it.” She sped up her assault on Nora’s womanhood. “Are you close to that point, Ms. Jasiri?”

“Yes!” moaned the journalist, “yes I am. Go ahead, show me!”

Agata leaned in for another kiss. Her entire fist was now in her, and half of her forearm too. When the point of no return arrived, Nora’s eyes rolled back and her body started to convulse violently under the professor. The orgasm hit her like a truck. She felt like flying through the air and lending on a huge pile of feathers. Her brain went numb and fell out of time.


1725077701158.png


When she finally regained her senses, Agata was still leaning over her, with only a few centimeters between their burning lips. She could breathe her breath. Her fist was still buried in Nora’s pussy. She wasn’t pumping her any more, but the Saharan could still feel her slender fingers stretching and moving in her snug fuckhole.

“Will you look at that,” smiled Agata and landed a tender kiss on Nora’s forehead. “You are literally my hand puppet now.”
 
New novella titled "Lawsuit"

The Inspection​


She woke up with a headache. It was nothing out of the ordinary. Her brain simply couldn’t handle pressure and tried to escape from her thick skull whenever she found herself in a tough situation. She hated that useless wrinkly coward. She wished she was smarter, cool-headed… If only she had steely nerves and a backbone instead of this exceptionally beautiful face and gorgeous body.

But no, not today. She needed that face and body this morning, more than anything. Steely nerves would have helped her a lot in this instance, sure, but the BFA inspector wouldn’t base her grade on her levelheadedness.

Or maybe he would. She had no idea about what really happened in there. The girls who had their primary inspections always told conflicting stories that ranged from alarming to horrifying. Her long nights on online forums confirmed that every experience was unique. Never good, just different types of bad.

All agreed on some basics, of course. You had to undress fully. You had to stand in the middle of a cold room where hi-tech cameras and gadgets photographed your body from every possible angle. They created a virtual copy of your entire form for their databases, which was updated every time you passed by a government camera.

All this could happen in front of an audience of men. Sometimes random BFA employees attended inspections. Apparently there were no rules against it.

An uninvited audience of random strange men would make the situation even more humiliating and nerve-breaking, undoubtedly. But forums said it was better. Less chance of getting raped by your inspector with witnesses present.

She couldn’t accept that possibility. Would a government employee defy regulations and freely utilize his inspectee? No, of course not. He would manhandle her a bit, even slap her around perhaps, if she was taking too long undressing or something. She wasn’t going to find herself in that position. She was going to be attentive from the start, obey every command immediately and fully, and survive this awful experience without any problems.

It was possible to minimize pain and humiliation. She had a simple plan: Listen carefully, obey fully, comply quickly.

After taking a shower, she stood in front of the full-sized mirror, dropped her towel and performed a quick self inspection. She was tall and slender, had a perfect hourglass figure with a small waist and huge tits. She was extremely proud of the latter... and knew how to use them too.

The gorgeous reflection in the mirror didn’t look that scared or nervous. Of course, she was in the safety of her own bedroom and not in a cold BFA inspection cell. No middle-aged government employee videotaping her, no leering strange men making jokes at her expense, no risk of bodily harm…

She stood there for another minute, trying to find flaws on her alluring figure. Skin blemishes, unsightly bruises, hair she forgot to remove? Nothing. She looked completely perfect for the first time in her life. Not even a pimple! Was this her lucky day?

Unable to resist, she picked up her smartphone and launched the self-grading app. Her friend Bonbon once told her that these apps were nothing but a scam to collect nude photos from gullible young girls, but she didn’t care. A lot of boys had her nudes on their personal collections already. Also, this particular app was not marketed to girls. It was actually a female price estimator app for men. She took a full-body picture and looked at it. Was she slouching? Deleted it and took another one. Then another, and another. She uploaded the seventh attempt, entered some extra information, and clicked on the “appraise” button.

The app did a few calculations and estimated her value somewhere in the 5000-7000 range. Her grade was a solid-A. She looked in the mirror again and caught herself smiling like a moron.

She shook off the stupid grin and threw her phone on the bed.

It was still too early. Her parents were asleep. Maybe it was better this way? Her mother had already had “the talk” with her when she set the inspection date a couple of weeks ago, and her father was considerate enough to avoid the topic since. She decided to get dressed and leave before they woke up. She could order a croissant and a cup of joe at the cafe across the BFA registration office and wait for her appointment. Then pop in, flash her tits, and get out with an A-grade stamp on her butt. Easy-peasy, lemon squeezy.

She didn’t need anyone to hold her hand. She was a big girl, and she could handle it all by herself.

She opened her closet and grabbed her inspection outfit. She had already picked her ensemble long ago. It was an orange cotton sundress with thin shoulder straps and short skirt. Very easy to take off and put back on. No panties, of course. Cream colored over-the-knee socks, orange high heels to match her dress, and an oldie-style white headband to keep her long hair in place. An efficient if ambivalent mixture of modern and traditional, slutty and prudish, casual and somber. A picture of perfection.

She made her final adjustments to her outfit and blew a kiss to her reflection in the mirror. She was so cute. Nothing bad would happen to such cute things. She would be fine.

She stuffed the required documents into her purse, grabbed her phone and sneaked out of her room. A minute later, she was out in the street walking towards the bus stop. A cool breeze was trying to wake the city up.

On the bus she called Bonbon, but her best friend didn’t pick up. It was still too early. Perhaps she was still asleep. Bonbon had her inspection weeks ago at a private firm. Not a good experience, she reported. Apparently the guy was a retired SEFR agent and treated her and her aunt like filthy animals even though they were paying customers. According to friend’s story, he literally cattle-prodded them a couple times during the inspection. After hearing that, she decided to go to the BFA instead, like the majority of fellow countrywomen.

After getting off the bus, she froze and looked at the Monument of Revolution for a long moment. Every Pussianan city had the same plan at the core. An unnecessarily huge square with an oversized statue in the middle. Each had her special pile of stones that depicted Great Father Marteau doing something cartoonishly masculine, like crushing a nude woman under his feet or something. He would look at or point to the ugly, depressing monstrosity dominating the square. The BFA office. The Bureau of Female Affairs. Once a simple department under the “Revolutionary Directorate of Defeminization of State Apparatus…” now the beating heart, clenched fist, and the throbbing cock of the Androcracy.

She sat down, ordered a croissant and a cup of coffee, and tried to relax. She was one of the three early birds in the cafe. One was an elderly man reading his newspaper. The other was a young boy, roughly her age, nervously staring at the BFA building. Neither seemed to be aware of her existence. The young slavegirl in high ballet boots brought her order, smiled, and returned to the kitchen like a graceful angel. She took a bite and called Bonbon again. No answer.

“Come on, you lazy slut,” she mumbled to herself. “I need to talk to you.” She was getting more and more nervous. Perhaps it was the young man a few tables over from her. His tense expression was contagious. Why would a male feel nervous about the BFA, she wondered. Perhaps he was waiting for a female relative being inspected? Then why was he sitting over here, and not in the office across the square? Also, he couldn’t have. The BFA wasn't open yet.

At that moment, she regretted her decision to come alone. If only she was brave enough to ask her father to accompany her. They rarely talked, the two of them. And when they did, it always ended in a shouting match. Then came days of hostility and silent treatment. She wished that they had a better relationship. She wished she could stop being a vile little bitch and he could stop acting like a stubborn asshole.

She was woken up from her thoughts when the young man stood up, dropped some money on the table and walked out of the cafe. She checked the clock on the wall and jumped up in a slight panic. The office was now open and her appointment was in ten minutes. She paid for the food and left in a hurry.

As she expected, the boy was headed to the same place. She reached the stairs as he disappeared into the building. Why did she care? She slowed down and tried to relax. The moment she entered the building her eyes widened with panic. A long line of young women, most of them her age, waiting for their turn at the reception desk.

“Do you have an appointment, slut?”

She jumped in place when a strange female voice exploded in her left ear. It was tall, well-built woman in uniform.

“Y-yes,” she stammered, “primary inspection… in 10… um… 6 minutes.”

The slavecop looked at her with the least readable expression ever and half turned. “Follow me, slut.”

A clear, direct order. She remembered her motto: Listen carefully, obey fully, comply quickly.

The slavecop led her to a desk behind the reception with the long line. Two other nervous looking girls were sitting there. The tall woman pointed to the only empty seat without saying anything. She thanked her and sat down.

She watched the uniformed goddess walk to her desk and sit on the edge. The stories were true, Slavecops were truly a different breed.

“Welcome to the BFA, sluts,” started the woman. “I’m Agent-slave Rapesnack. We are a little short-handed on male personnel today, so I’ll be handling your PI-s.”

Agent-slave Rapesnack? O yeah. Only then she realized that it was written on her chest in big letters. Also, a woman would handle her inspection? That was almost too good to be true. This was truly her lucky day.

“Take out your IDs,” ordered the woman. She immediately took it out and raised it for her scanner.

Rapesnack held her strange looking tablet over their ID cards and scanned them one by one. When it was her turn, a different sound was heard. The slavecop’s expression changed slightly. She picked the ID from her hand and looked closely as if her eyes could catch some detail the electronic device somehow missed.

Her expression unchanged, the slavecop took her ID to the desk and dropped it, then returned with a set of collar and handcuffs.

She remembered from the forum discussions that sometimes inspectors restrained unruly inspectees. But she wasn’t unruly. And why just one set? Why only for her?

“Surrender your wrists,” ordered Rapesnack.

Listen carefully, obey fully, comply quickly. She sighed and raised her arms to be restrained. The slavecop swiftly put the cuffs on and proceeded to lock the heavy metal collar around her neck.

She then took a step back and looked into the girl's scared eyes.

“Slut Shayla Tyran, you are under arrest for aiding an unlawful trespassing on private property. You will be transferred to a SEFR holding cell and remain there until the criminal case against you-”

“Wait!” she shrieked in panic. “C-criminal case? Criminal? Me? Miss, I’m just a high school student…Who… who the hell made such a ridiculous accus-”

“The case against you was brought by a Mr Peter Stevenson. Does that sound familiar, slut?”

Shayla froze with her mouth wide open.

“There you go. Now, get up and follow me, slut. This will be the longest day of your life.”

1725077889709.png



1725077904552.png
 

Cleaning​


Shayla continued to follow Agent-slave Rapesnack like an enthralled zombie. There was a loud banging in her head. She couldn’t even hear her thoughts. Her entire body felt numb and out of control, moving on its own like on autopilot.

She didn’t know what kind of metal her restraints were made out of, but she could swear that they were getting heavier every passing second. It felt like her collar was being pulled down by invisible demons dancing around her. She could barely raise her head to follow the slavecop. It kept biting her on the neck too.

So many corridors and corners, dimly lit nooks and crannies, unidentified liquids and dark stains on the floor, and a lot of stairs going down… The stairs, they always went down, never up, it seemed. And every time they went down a flight of stairs, she felt closer to hell.

Hell was, without a doubt, preferable to the lower levels of a BFA building.

After what felt like a ten minute walk, they stopped in front of a inconspicuous looking metal door. Shayla had no idea where she was. She was led through a labyrinth several levels below the ugly concrete abomination that marred the center of the city. Rapescnack knocked in a soldierly manner. The response was a distant rustling noise, a reluctant clang of metals banging, and lazy, lumbering footsteps. The door opened and a incredibly huge man loomed over the two. Compared to his giant figure, the tall slavecop looked like a garden gnome.

Was she exaggerating? Something was wrong. She couldn’t focus. She couldn’t form meaningful thoughts. Her mind was lost in a fog, almost. She shook her head to concentrate. It worked. The huge demon-man looked a little more human-like for a moment.

“Who’s this?” he hissed. His snake-like voice didn’t match his huge frame, Shayla felt. “Slut Shayla Tyran. Came in for her PI, the system flagged her,” Rapesnack explained. “Formal capture request by a private citizen. Involved in an unauthorized female utilization.”

“Please,” Shayla whimpered, “could you please call this Peter Stevenson? I’m sure I can clear up this misunderstanding easily. No-no, first call my father. He’ll know what to do.”

At least that’s what she wanted to say. In reality, all that came out was an unintelligible slurring.

“Is she drugged?” the giant demon asked. His infernal dark eye-holes were glowing red now.

“The obedience collar stung her a couple times on the way,” replied Rapesnack. She must be tripping a bit.”
The demon laughed, or growled, then reached for Shayla’s collar. He grabbed it by the heavy chain and pulled her to himself. Scared out of her mind, she wanted to protest, but her body made no attempt to resist. The slavecop stepped aside to let the giant drag Shayla into the room, then followed them inside.

After a few meters, the girl managed to regain her balance and looked up. The first thing she saw was a bound young woman at the far end of the hall being violently double ended by two burly guards. She had to swallow a scream of terror. Was she going to be raped too? Was this giant guy her punisher?… She hoped he didn’t have a proportional member.

“Will I be raped too, ma’am… sir?” She mumbled. “I haven’t had my PI yet… I’m sorry.” Was she making any sense? Her guards seemed indifferent. Were they deaf or something? “Excuse me, sir,” she continued, “how big are you? I mean down there.”

Her last question managed to get a chuckle from the demon. “Big enough to make a soup out of your innards, slut,” he said. “But don’t worry. You‘re unlikely to be raped today… Not until the civil prosecutor sees you.” He turned to Rapesnack. “When do those suits usually come in?”

“Afternoon, Sir,” Rapesnack replied. “Sometime between two and four o’clock.”

“There you go. If the prosec picks your case up and sends you to detention, you can start worrying for your tight little pussy. Technically detained females are not to be touched… but I’m not gonna sugarcoat it, slut. A cute little thing like you, you’ll be raped a lot in detention. A lot. That’s a promise. Those assholes, they have many loopholes for looping your holes.”

“Thank you, Sir,” she mumbled again, absentmindedly. She wasn’t sure if she understood exactly what he said, but she could see that he was smiling as he said it. It was a kind smile for a giant demon, she thought. Surely, everything was going to be fine. This hell wasn’t that bad. Now, where was the exit?

“She is smiling? This slut is in no condition to receive legal advice, Sir,” Rapesnack commented.

“Maybe not,” he snickered. “Cold water will wake her up, I’m sure.” They turned a corner and found themselves in a large cleaning area where two uniformed officers were washing a number of detainees.

The demon ordered the slavecop to remove Shayla’s restraints. Freed of her heavy shackles and collar, Shayla was now fully convinced that the misunderstanding was over, and she was about to get out of this depressing place. She looked at her guard with her signature puppy eyes. Surely he would be under her spell in no time.

“Take off your dress, slut,” the man ordered. “Quickly.”

Shayla looked at the man for a second, befuddled. Was this her primary inspection? Was it starting now?

A slap exploded on her left cheek. Her face changed from puzzled to panicked. How could she forget her rule? Listen carefully! Obey fully! Comply quickly!

“I’m sorry, Sir,” she said, and swiftly wiggled out of her little dress. In a few seconds, her shoes and over-the-knee socks ended up in a pile next to her fully naked body, shivering in the middle of the cold room.

The giant, now in full demon form, pointed towards the lowered platform that looked like a very shallow pool, or a very large shower basin. Several fully naked women were already down there, waiting to be hosed down. Shayla quickly joined them and went down on her knees.

“Hands and knees on the floor,” ordered one of the officers with the hoses. All quickly complied. More orders followed: “Kiss the floor. Heads down, asses up! Knees apart! Arms stretched!” Shayla was still confused about the reason for this unusual development, but she managed to copy everything the other women did. She wasn’t going to fuck up again and deserve another slap from the hell demon.

1725077948234.png



She realized what was going to happen half a second before the cold jet of water hit her between the legs. The stream got her right on the clit and moved around her crotch without mercy. It hurt a lot. It was like getting punched and kicked between the legs. After dealing a lot of damage to her orifices in a methodical manner, the officer hosed the rest of her body down haphazardly and moved on to the next girl. Dripping with cold water, Shayla decided to keep her pose and wait for further directions.

The giant guard was right. Cold water gave her the shock she needed to get out of her intoxicated state. Her mind was clearer now. She quickly remembered what happened and realized what was going to happen. Panic hit.

“Back on your feet!” the whorewash officer commanded. “Line up against the wall!”

The six other young women in the group quickly got up and took their places on the other side of the room as if they had done that a few times before. Shayla took a step towards them to do as they did, but Rapesnack grabbed her by the arm and pulled her in the other direction.

“They are going to appear in court in a minute,” she explained. “You still have a long way to go before that. She attempted to return to the spot she piled her clothes on, but she couldn’t see anything there.

“You won’t need clothes where you’re going, slut,” said the man, with an ominous smile. Then he turned and entered another corridor. Rapesnack dragged Shayla out after the man. Along the way she continued to beg for mercy, this time more intelligibly, but neither the man nor the slavecop acknowledged her pleads. Obviously, she wasn’t the first girl they processed here.

After two more hellward flights of stairs, they arrived at a corridor with small holding cells on either side, perhaps a couple dozen in total. The demon unlocked number 454 and the slavecop pushed her in. She stumbled and fell, then immediately backed into a corner and curled into a ball.

“I told you,” the man snickered. “You don’t have to worry. You are not even charged yet. We don’t rape girls like you here.”

The moment he finished his sentence, the door clanked open and another girl was brought in. Dangling from a metal yoke-rod, her well-fucked and bruised body looked fully drained. Her pure light brown skin was covered in semen from head to toe. Even under several thick coats of cum, Shayla recognized that beautiful face. Her eyes opened wide.

“No! Yasmeen?”

1725077972203.png
 

The Banana Club​


Yasmeen wasn’t the most popular girl in school. She wasn’t a total recluse, but she certainly wasn’t outgoing or sociable. At best, she could be described as a high-functioning introvert. She didn’t have many friends save for the two chicks who somehow adopted her and dragged her around town. She liked them, and she liked herself when she was with them.

Shayla was the natural leader of the group. She often called the shots, picked their hangouts, and led them into crazy adventures. She knew how to get them out of trouble whenever they find themselves in one. Granted, her solutions often involved her huge tits, which she knew how to weaponize, but she was a smart and fun girl too. Everyone liked that blue-haired slut.
Bonnie, the quintessential blonde of the trio, was the opposite of Yasmeen. She was always optimistic, friendly, and full of energy. An irresistible extrovert. She and Shayla managed to bring Yasmeen out of her shell and transform her into a “normal” girl capable of social interaction. She loved them for it.

“What the hell are you doing, slut? Focus!”

Yasmeen stopped and raised her head. The big cock she had been sucking for the last two minutes or so popped out of her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she apologized with a soft voice. “I was distracted for a moment.”

“Don’t be,” the boy scowled. “You are the only slut we have tonight. Since your stupid friends didn’t show up, you’ll be working three times as hard.”

“Yes of course,” she nodded frantically, and took the boy’s cock back in her mouth.

The Banana Club was one of the best-known secrets of their high school. For the boys, it was very hard to become a member. But once they got in, they gained access to the best girls in the school. Specifically, their mouths and buttholes.

For girls, the rules of membership were rather different. Prettiest girls in the school often found an anonymous note on their desks with a date and location under a crude drawing of a banana. They rarely refused to comply. If they did, they were grabbed and dragged to the “club house,” which was actually the old factory guardhouse behind the school. Such defiance was punished by an additional beating at their “initiation” to the club.

Officially, the administration didn’t allow casual rape of female students or personnel. It was one of the last schools in the city, perhaps in the country, to restrict female utilization. All the female staff was freewomen, and none had sexual functions as employees. But of course, the administration had no authority beyond school grounds, where the old shack was located.

Yasmeen received her note two months and eight days ago.

Since then she served at 5 parties.

The club had about 15 male members but generally only 6-7 of them attended single-girl gangrapes. Every now and then, they threw bigger parties with multiple girls. This was supposed to be one of those. That evening Yasmeen was scheduled to serve together with a girl named Janet, a newer recruit, and Ms Gallers, one of the math teachers. Unfortunately, neither showed up.

And now, because of those two stupid bitches, poor Yasmeen was alone, kneeling at the center of a 14-boy circle, her hands locked behind her neck in a wooden yoke and her ankles held by a simple pillory. Luckily, it was only a face-rape party, but it was certainly going to be a rough night for the lone victim. Especially because the boys were mad at the girls who didn’t show up. Yasmeen knew that they would take their frustration out of her. She expected to be spanked and flogged between throatings

1725078008760.png




She clearly remembered what happened to one of the girls who didn’t come voluntarily a few weeks ago. It wasn’t pretty. Yasmeen was eventually allowed to leave after a two-hour-long hravy-use session, but the other girl was kept there for the rest of the night and got flogged until the next morning by the seven members present. The poor thing was hospitalized for a week. She served as a good example for the rest of the girls in school. None of the recipients of the “banana notes” ever failed to show up after that. Until that night.

Yasmeen thanked the boy for ejaculating on her face. A fifth cock replaced the fourth. She immediately started to suck like a good girl. This entire thing was confusing for her. She certainly didn’t like to be held in this dirty cabin and get gag-raped by these horny bastards, but… she kinda liked giving head. When the rapist wasn’t a violent micromanaging asshole, a blowjob could be relaxing, almost like a meditative act. She liked the repetitive motion. It silenced and cleared her mind. She felt a tingle of satisfaction whenever she added some creative twist in her tried-and-tested routine and received a positive reaction.

She even liked the taste of their cum.

Well, perhaps only some of them. All men tasted similar to some extent, but the little variations made all the difference. Among the men she sucked off, members of this club or others, she had favorites. Some boys just tasted great. Some she didn’t mind swallowing, and some tasted awful. It was always good when her favorite ones unloaded in her mouth and others came on her face. Of course, she rarely got her way. As a girl, she had no say in it, but in time she learned to use facial expressions to enhance her chances. With every rape, she got better at begging for it.

The eleventh boy ejaculated in her mouth. She thanked him and smiled. Se didn’t know his name, but he was one of the good-tasting ones. Her tired smile froze when she saw the next in line. That one was a particularly sadistic asshole. It was going to be a violent skullfuck.

The boy took his cock out and stood in front of her. Yasmeen opened her mouth and looked up. She didn’t intend to antagonize him in any way. He approached but stopped short of penetrating her full lips. Then he grinned, grabbed her dress and pulled it brutally. It took only two yanks to tear the flimsy fabric into shreds. Ripped fabric flew across the room and left the poor girl completely naked. This violent revelation of her beautiful body energized the remaining members of the club. Se barely heard the applause and the wolf-whistles, because her mind switched to emergency mode when the boy grabbed her easy-rape yoke and shoved his fat dick all the way down her throat.

As the boy fucked her face as brutally as he could, Yasmeen’s thoughts went back to her besties. For some reason, neither Shayla nor Bonnie received the infamous “banana notes.” Of course, Yasmeen didn’t know each and every girl who were appropriated by the club. She only knew the girls whom she served together with, and guessed a few more. They were easy to spot on after-party days with their fresh bruises and thousand-yard stares. But she was almost certain that her friends were not taken. She would know if they were.

Like all girls, Shayla and Bonnie had their share of horror stories, of course. Neither were virgins in any hole. The three of them often found themselves surrounded by cocks and sucked and fucked their way out of it. But only Yasmeen was being systematically utilized like this, almost like a slavegirl. She served whenever she was ordered, after all. She was a sex slave in all but name. Much better than that, actually. Her masters didn’t pay taxes or maintenance for their obedient fuckmeat.

When her last “master” emptied his balls all over her pretty face, she hoped to rest her jaw for a few minutes. Unfortunately, the group was too big and she was alone. Many of the members were ready to go again. Another cock was shoved in her mouth without giving her time to catch her breath and the second round began.

Why were her best friends spared? Yasmeen often wondered about that. They were better looking than her, more popular and outgoing too. She had no way of knowing the victim selection criteria of the club members. She only knew that she met them. Was it because she was a shy, timid girl who was less likely to complain and report the abuse? Perhaps they picked her because she looked exotic and different?

Or maybe, they just liked the way she sucked them. She remembered getting faceraped by two of the members in the girls’ room even before she received her banana note. Perhaps they were the selection committee?

Another coat of cum over her face. Another dick shoved in her throat. She began sucking it as eagerly as the first one. She was tired and her jaw was aching, but she knew well that lack of enthusiasm was punishable by flogging. After getting off each member once, she was more optimistic about her chances of surviving this ordeal without a beating. After all, why should she get the beating. The two who didn’t show up should be punished, not her. She was the good whore who did her duty.

Her duty? Did she call this her duty?

The boy climaxed quickly this time. She opened wide and stuck her tongue out like she was supposed to do, but he chose to target her forehead instead. She closed her eyes and let him clean his cock on her brows. She was feeling the weight of the jizz covering her face now. Earlier coats were starting to dry, but the the newer coats kept dripping down her cheeks and neck.

1725078041863.png




Another fat one was shoved between her full lips immediately. Once again, she wasn’t allowed to suck. The boy held her yoke by the handles and started to fuck her throat without mercy. She was nothing but a warm hole now.

Cocks followed one another. She was fed and coated again and again. She didn’t know exactly when, but sometime during the third round, a member decided to take a group picture to upload to her Registry page. They gathered around Yasmeen’s cum-covered naked body and snapped a few poses. One was picked to be uploaded, but when the boy logged on and pulled her Registry page, an unusual beep was heard.

“Your night just got better, slut,” grinned the boy she hated the most. “This warning says that you are wanted by the BFA. I think we have to do our civic duty and make a citizen’s arrest, boys.”
 

Bonnie​


The day before…

“A citizen’s arrest? What does that mean?”

“It means any male citizen can grab you and take you to the BFA, you stupid girl!” screamed Aunt Cassie. “How could you be this stupid? Aiding a trespasser, that’s a felony for a female! You won’t get away with a week-long community bj service or something. If they find you guilty… What am I saying, of course they’ll find you guilty! When they find you guilty, you’ll be enslaved on the spot and sent to a state brothel. Women never get out of those places alive! Oh my god!” The middle aged woman covered her ears with her hands as if she was trying to keep her panicked brain from escaping. “Oh my god! Oh my god,” she repeated with a trembling voice. “Your life is over! I promised your mother to keep you safe! Do you know what I had to do to convince my husband to pay for a full four-year freedom permit? Now that fucking piece of paper is worth nothing!”

“I… I think you are exaggerating, auntie,” stammered Bonnie, herself at the verge of having a panic attack. “The girl… I know she survived. Yasmeen and I went to the hospital and checked the next day. We later learned that the boy married her too. They are fine. I’m sure he forgot all about-”

“He obviously didn’t forget, you dummy!” interrupted Aunt Cassie. “Look at this warning on your Registry page! It clearly says ‘Masterless slut Bonnie Lass, wanted for aiding an unlawful trespassing on private property. Bring alive to the nearest BFA facility.’ This must be that graduation day thing you told me about, right? Unless you were involved in more than one unauthorized female utilization?”

Bonnie swallowed.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” shrieked Cassie. “What have you done, you moron?”

“T-those g-guys,” stammered the girl, “they told me that… they would let me go with only facefucks if I bring them girls they never raped before. I was ordered to lure virgins to their secret place and…”

Cassie throw her hands in the air incredulously. She opened her mouth wide but produced no sound.

“I don’t think they would… That’s not a crime, what I’ve done. Just…”

“Shut the fuck up,” interrupted her aunt. “Let me think. No, luring girls to gangrapes is fine. I mean, it’s not fine, of course… but you’re right. It’s not technically a crime… I think.” She continued to pace around the room, trying in vain to calm herself down. “This is definitely about the girl they choked… hanged, right?”

“We didn’t know they would have gone that far,” sobbed Bonnie. “How could... We thought it was going to be a simple violation as usual. Perhaps a beating too. Some girls are not smart enough to obey fully, you know. But… I think they had a grudge against that girl… or her owner, and…”

Cassie put her finger on her babbling niece’s lips to shut her up. “You're lucky I saw the warning before Warren did,” she whispered. “That imbecile never logs out of the Registry, because his rotten brain is perpetually soaked in alcohol and he is no longer capable of remembering his passwords. When the warning came, he was drunk like a skunk again. Thank god!”

She paused to stroke Bonnie’s long reddish hair lovingly. “You are my one and only niece, and unfortunately, this makes him your CMR. You know what happens to both of us when you disobey him. When he sees it, you’ll be… and I’ll be…” She stopped.

“I’m so sorry, auntie,” Bonnie whispered, tears flowing down her pale cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”

Cassie took a deep breath. “What is done is done,” she said, with a much calmer voice. Her aunt was the smartest, most rational woman Bonnie ever known. She wasn’t well-educated like her older sisters, but she was much more intelligent. “We have to get you out of this town,” she continued coolly.

Bonnie’s eyes widened, but Aunt Cassie waved her hand dismissively. “There is no other way,” she said, trying her best to sound confident. “If you’re convicted, you'll be gangraped to death in a slave brothel within a few years. They’ll sentence you to a minimum of two decades. No woman lasts that long. Trust me… That’s a fact.”

Bonnie swallowed again.

“That snoring log won’t wake up for another five or six hours. If we pack up fast and leave before… Avoid main streets and cameras…” She turned and opened a drawer, reached into a nook and pulled a piece of wood aside, then took a few sheets of folded paper out.

“Is… that a secret compartment?” Bonnie asked with confusion on her tear-soaked face.

“I have been preparing for something like this,” Cassie said as she laid the sheets of paper on the coffee table. “In have been trying to map a safe path out of the city. No surveillance cameras, BFA patrols… you know. It’s not complete because I rarely get a chance to explore these distant areas alone… but with some improvization… we can reach this wooded area. Many caves and valleys there. My dad took us there for camping when we were little girls. We can disappear there for a while. After that… I don’t know. We’ll see.”

“No, Auntie!” whisper-screamed the young redhead and pointed to the crudely drawn maps and notes on the table. “All this is crazy! You are insane. We will leave our life behind and became outlaws? Live on berries and stuff? And… and… they will find us anyway. ” She took a deep breath. “No, I’ll go and surrender myself. That way, worst case scenario, I choke on a cock in a slave brothel two years from now… And… Who knows? I might even survive… I just cannot let you help me and become a felon yourself. I won’t take you down with me. I might survive for twenty years, but you certainly cannot.”

Cassie pursed her lips. She knew that her crime would be much worse. Her punishment too. A rapexecution, most probably. She walked up and down the room for a few more seconds, then stopped and turned to her niece. “No. I‘ve decided. We’re running.” Bonnie opened her mouth to protest, but her aunt’ finger landed on her full lips to silence her. “I always wanted to do this. Since Felicia… my beautiful sister, your mother… died 7 years ago… I got the idea in my mind then. I almost did it when my other sister Dianne was enslaved and sold by her husband… but I couldn’t… because I had you to look after. I promised your mother to keep you safe. I just couldn’t abandon you.”

She smiled bitterly and held Bonnie’s pretty head between her hands. “And I’ll not abandon you now. We’ll run… together. We can make it. Do you trust me?”

Bonnie started to cry uncontrollably. She did. Her aunt was the only person in the world she trusted with her life. She nodded. They embraced tightly.

She broke the hug after a long moment and pulled on the chain attached to her rusty metal collar. “Come on, run to the kitchen and bring me the fork I use to get out of this thing. You know the one, all the way at the back. And bring me some of your clothes too. Nothing too revealing… or too prudish.”

“Yes auntie,” nodded the girl and rushed out of the room as quietly as possible. Cassie exhaled and sat her naked body down on the bed. She was a freewoman, but she wasn’t allowed to wear anything. She didn’t even own any clothes. The last time she was allowed to put on an item of clothing was more than two years ago, when her husband let her wear a pair of old shoes on a hike.

1725078080676.png



Her niece returned in a few minutes with a bunch of clothes and dropped a few kitchen utensils on the bed. “Sorry, I… I wasn’t sure which ones you wanted, so I brought all I could carry.”

“That’s okay,” said the woman and picked an old fork from the pile. Its teeth looked damaged and bent in a few places. It was the trusty improvised tool the woman used to unlock her metal collar whenever she needed. The old rickety thing was barely holding together anyway. It took her only a few seconds to loosen a few screws. The cumbersome restraint opened and dropped onto the bed. She exhaled with relief, then looked into her niece’s teary eyes.

“Turn off your phone and leave it here. Pack valuables, money, clothes for hiking, and food… A lot of food. We are leaving in 10 minutes.”

At the mention of her phone, Bonnie suddenly realized that she wasn’t the only wanted criminal. Her besties were equally culpable. “I must warn Shay and Meeny!” she exhaled. They must be-”

“No time for that,” declined Aunt Cassie. “If they are wanted too, their CMRs must have seen the Registry warrants already. For all we know, they could be in BFA custody right now, getting gangraped silly.”


* * *


“They told me that they wouldn’t rape the women in custody,” whispered Shay. “Did they-”

“Not them,” replied Yasmeen with an exhausted voice. “It was that Jason Garris and a few others. I was sucking their cocks, you know, no biggie… Out of the blue, they mentioned some warrant and decided to bring me in here. Then someone suggested that they should threehole me before they surrender my body to the BFA, and they did, a few times.”



1725078106490.png




She had stop for a few seconds to sob uncontrollably. “They said I wouldn’t be able to come back from this, Shay. They said we’d be rapexecuted!… Is this about the girl they hanged?”

Shay nodded. “They informed me that Peter Stevenson requested our capture. It’s a good thing. He’s just a private citizen with a grudge. If we were wanted by the state, we’d already be serving at a slave-brothel right now. This means we’ll have a chance to appear in court and defend ourselves. We can even reason with this Peter and settle it out of court. Beg him to drop the charges. We can beg really really hard.”

“I’ll beg, yes. I’ll do anything, but… we didn’t do anything that bad, right? We only followed orders. Why are they coming after us, the girls? It is all your fucking cousin’s fault. He coerced us. Threatened us! What were we supposed to do? Refuse?”

“Yes!” Shay scowled. “If I ever manage to get out of this, I’ll sneak in their apartment and stab Quinn in his sleep. Right in the dick. I planned it already. I hate that fucking asshole so much. I can’t believe such a vile thing came out of Aunt Beth’s womb. Curse the day!”
 

The Counsel​


The girls jumped in panic when they heard steps in the distance. A pair of heavy, military style boots thumping on the soulless concrete floor outside their cell.…. followed by the clicking of high heels?

“Oh god! I think they got Bonnie too!” whispered Yasmeen.

“No, it cannot be her, “said Shayla. “Listen. They let this woman, whoever she is, keep her shoes on. Her steps are calm too. She isn’t a detainee.”

The mysterious pair stood just outside the door. A key turned in the lock and the heavy metal door screeched open. A guard they were unfamiliar with walked in and stopped in front of the girls, who immediately straightened up on their knees. No female citizen in the country needed special training to know how to kneel respectfully before the superior gender.

He inspected their beautiful naked forms for a few seconds without making any comments, then turned around to call his companion over. “You may come in, Slut Necia!”

A woman in her late twenties appeared at the door and entered with shy steps. She was wearing a two-piece suit often worn by sexretaries, but her outfit had no easy-access flaps or holes. She certainly wasn’t a state femployee.


1725078148466.png




“This is Masterless slut Sofia Necia, your legal counsel,” introduced the guard, and poked the woman with his nightstick. “You have fifteen minutes, slut.”

“Fifteen each, right?” The woman asked with a disarming shy smile and pushed her round-framed glasses back with her index finger. “I’ll be representing both ladies.”

“You now have only fourteen minutes, Necia. I’ll drag you out and throw you down the trash chute if I don’t see you outside of that door in fourteen.” He raised his arm and tapped on his watch ominously, then left the room.

The woman smiled and managed to retain her cheerful expression until he left earshot. She then put her briefcase down, adjusted her skirt and knelt down in the middle of the cell, facing the two scared girls.

“Charming, aren’t they? Every single one of them,” she winked.

“Are you a lawyer? Did my father send you?” whispered Shayla. She wasn’t sure if the guards were listening in or not.

The woman raised her palm gently to shut the girl up. “Masterless slut Shayla Tyran, it’s better if you save your questions for later. We don’t have much time, and I have a lot to cover. Now you listen carefully, and answer my questions with clear, truthful, and brief statements, okay?”

The two girls nodded frantically.

“Very well,” the woman smiled and pushed her glasses back. “I’m Sofia Necia from the legal firm Ulfbock & Hirsch. Technically, I’m not a lawyer, since the law forbids members of the inferior gender from taking the bar exams. But don’t you worry, I’d ace that thing if I were allowed.” She smiled again. “You guessed correctly. Your father hired us to represent you and Masterless slut Yasmeen Hulqum.”

The girls exhaled in unison.

“I’m sure you are worried about the process. The male personnel here never inform the detainees about what awaits them.” She waited for the girls to nod. “I thought so. Unfortunately, you’ll be kept here until the civil prosecutor evaluates the complaint about you. This generally happens within the same day, but those guys tend to drag their feet unless properly motivated. No need to worry, our firm has dedicated femployees to provide that motivation. Actually, that’s how I started at the firm. I worked as a cocksucker for two years.”

“We wo-”

“No, you won’t be raped for now,” interrupted the woman. “But… as we all know, accidents happen. If you sense that you are about to be utilized unlawfully while in custody, identify yourself clearly to your attacker. Tell them you are detained masterless sluts pending trial. You are restricted in all holes.”

They nodded.

“Say it aloud once.”

“We are masterless sluts pending trial. Restricted in all holes,” repeated the girls in unison.

“Very good.” She rolled her eyes and made a face. “Well, we say all, but let’s face it, you’ll probably get faceraped a few times.”She opened her briefcase and pulled out a notepad. “What’s your ATOUT?”

“AT- What’s…”

“Average tertiary orifice utilization time… per violation. In other words, how much time do you need to make a man ejaculate using only your tertiary orifice? Just an estimate will do.”

“I don’t know… Four… five minutes?” said Shayla. “What does it-“

“Two-and-a-half minutes,” interjected Yasmeen. “If I’m allowed to suck actively, of course”

“About 150 seconds…when active…” repeated Necia as she wrote it down in her notebook. Then she reached inside her briefcase again and took two dildos out. She wiped them with a wet paper towel, held them up together to make sure they were the same size, then presented them to the two young girls. “Would you please? Be natural. No hands, of course,” she said coolly as she held them in front of the girls’ bewildered faces.

“You want us to perform fellatio on these things?” asked Shay incredulously. “Why? What does this accomplish?”

“All will be revealed in a minute. Just humor me, please.”

The girls looked at each other. After a long stretch of indecision, Yasmeen hesitantly leaned forward, opened her lips wide, and took the artificial phallus in her mouth. She started to suck on it awkwardly. After a few seconds, her face changed with surprise.

“What’s.. What the hell is this. It’s… sweet?”

“Yes,” replied the woman with a barely audible whisper. “It is. I’m sure you weren’t given anything to eat since you were detained. It is a common tactic of the BFA to keep their detainees hungry and thirsty.” She smiled. “As your counsel, I’m not allowed to bring any food in here, but I’m allowed to bring dildos to test your obedience and skills. You understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Yasmeen and started to suck on her dildo more eagerly. Shay jumped on hers half a second later.

The girls continued to suck on the silicon dildos that dispensed a viscous fluid for another minute. The scene was totally surreal, but it certainly wasn’t the strangest thing that happened to them that day. Within two minutes the unusual containers were completely empty.

1725078170317.png


“They are actually good dildos,” smiled the woman as she sealed them in a zip-lock bag and threw the bag in her briefcase. “I own a couple myself.”

The girls nodded. The fluid they sucked out of the things was surprisingly filling.

“Very good. Alright, back to the process. In the afternoon, you’ll be taken to the Prosec Office. The civil prosecutors will evaluate your file. I’ll be there to represent you two. Our best chance is to have your case dismissed before trial. We can do that in two ways. We can convince your accusor to retract his complaint, or convince the prosec that the complaint is total BS.”

She stopped and leaned forward. “Now, tell me, slut Tyran and slut Hulqum. Is the complaint total BS? Be truthful.”

The girls looked at each other and swallowed nervously.

“I see. No worries, our firm already reached out to this Mr Stevenson to probe for a possible out-of-court settlement. If this gentleman agrees to negotiate, you might be forced to serve him sexually for a certain period of time. Would you be amenable to such an agreement?”

“Yes!” yelled Shayla. “I’d… we’d serve him, yes. Let him fuck us as many times he likes, in every way he chooses. I’ll obey and serve enthusiastically! Yes.”

Yasmeen nodded along. She just wanted to go home. “How long… d-do you think he’d…”

“At least a year. Possibly two,” the woman replied without hesitation. “If we’re lucky.”

“Oooh! Two years? You mean… like a… sex slave?”

“Legal bullshit aside… yes, you’ll be his sex slaves in all but name,” said Nacia with a serious expression on her face. “Of course, he wouldn’t be allowed to sell, trade, or terminate you during that period.”

“What… what else can we do… to avoid trial?” asked Shayla this time.

“You can surrender yourselves to this Mr Stevenson,” replied the woman without pause. “It is clear that his purpose is to appropriate you, Ms Hulqum, and Ms Lass. If you surrender now, you’ll be spared the trial process. Believe me, it can get really really bad. In addition to a relatively painless transition to slavery, you would be saving your families a lot of money. You know, our services aren’t cheap. In addition, Mr Stevenson is required to pay your CMRs the standard enslavement price for your category if you choose to surrender to him. Would you like me to arrange that?”

The girls froze. They couldn’t believe their ears.

“I’ll let you think about that,” Necia smiled. “Let’s talk about our strategy. In my professional opinion, we should go with the ‘stupidity’ argument.”

“Stupidity argument?”

“Yes. You are stupid girls. You are so stupid, you didn’t really understand what Mr Quinn Tyran, Mr Edward Bullock, and Charles Jones were planning to do. They deceived you. Perhaps they threatened you too?”

“Yes they did. They threatened us,” jumped Yasmeen. “It’s all their fault! They should be here instead of us. Why aren’t they being pros-”

“They are being prosecuted,” interrupted the spunky counsel. “I don’t know the details about the case against Mr Bullock and Mr Jones, but our firm also represents Mr Quinn Tyran. Your cousin, slut Tyran.”

“Good!” replied Shayla. “I hope he rots in prison. I hate him so much!”

“There must be a misunderstanding,” replied the woman calmly. “A male citizen rarely ends up incarcerated for such a crime. Mr Stevenson sues him for compensation, and he will almost definitely win.”

“Compensation? So, we risk enslavement, but that fucker can get away with a fine? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Ordinarily, yes. Generally, monetary compensation is what the plaintiff seeks. But in this particular case, Mr Stevenson wants payment in kind.”

“In kind? What does that mean?”

“It means he wants a female blood relative.”

“No!” shrieked Shayla. “No-no-no-no-no! Don’t say it!”

“Unfortunately,” the other interrupted, “our firm advised your cousin to relinquish the rights to his mother Masterless slut Elisabeth Tyran and hand her over to Mr Stevenson. I believe he already agreed to do so.”

“Not aunt Beth!” cried the girl. “This can’t be happening!”
 

Negotiations​


“Welcome, Mr Fungstorn. Right on time. Please have a seat.

The lawyer walked in and smiled at the young sexretary in the bright red suit before greeting the group of people gathered around the conference table. She closed the glass door and took a step towards the cabinet behind her. “Can I offer you something, Sir? ”

Fungstorn looked at the row of young women waiting on their knees and pursed his lips. He turned and scanned the room. Several men in suits were already being serviced by beautiful sexretaries kneeling before them. He turned back to the girl in red.

“I don’t like any of these ones. What about you? Are you fuckable, Ms…”

“Mrembo. Shani Mrembo,” she smiled. “Yes of course, Sir. That’s why I’m here.”

“Come on, Vincent,” yelled the big man at the far end of the table. “Pick one already. We don’t have all day.”

“I’m surprised to hear that,” grinned Fungstorn as he walked over to an empty chair and dropped his briefcase on the table. “A little bird told me that you’re having trouble keeping your big clients these days. I think I heard the phrase ‘mass exodus’ at one point.” He sat down with a smirk and parted his legs. Shani knelt respectfully, crawled in place, and opened his zipper to start sucking his cock.

“I fired your ‘little bird’ this morning, and enslaved her a minute after that,” replied the man dryly. “If you want to see your little spy again, you can find her at the men’s room on the fifth floor. She made a wonderful urinal.”

“Darn!” said the other and threw his hands in the air mockingly. “I had big plans for that girl.”

“That’s enough joshing for today,” interjected the balding man at the head of the table. “Vincent, Harold, do I need to remind you that we’re all on the same team here?” He turned his attention to the two serious looking men and a woman on the opposing side of the table.


1725078219098.png




“First of all, I’d like to welcome our esteemed colleagues from Hunter and Associates, John Hunter Jr. and Gareth Upton. They are hired by the Stevenson Family. On this side, Vincent Fungstorn will be representing Mr Edward Bullock, And Harold Jupp will be representing Mr Charles Jones. And our firm will be running the negotiations for Mr Quinn Tyran, Ms Shayla Tyran, and Ms Yasmeen Hulqum.”

“Mr Hunter,” exclaimed Fungstorn, still wearing his annoying smirk. “You cost me a lot of money with that last minute marriage trick. I guess I never congratulated you on that one. Well done, Sir.”

“The last minute marriage trick? Ah! I’m afraid I can’t take credit for that one. One of our girls came up with that.”

“You don’t say? A girl, eh? Rewarded properly, I hope.”

“You could say that. I married her.”

Fungstorn made a surprised face and turned to the young woman sitting next to the lawyer. She looked odd with her disheveled purple hair and ill-fitting two piece suit. “Mrs. Hunter, I presume?”

“Mrs Hunter?” The man let loose a belly shaking laughter, which forced his sexretary to stop sucking for a moment. “No, this is slavecunt Melanie Cumpster from Mr Peter Stevenson’s company. She is here to assist us about the assets we are hoping to procure at this meeting.”

“Howdy, fancy masters,” greeted Melanie with her cute little girl voice. “This cunt is grateful for the opportunity. Never seen the insides in a law office before. The demon-human ratio here is a lot lower than I expected.” She stopped mid-giggle when Hunter gestured her to do so.

“The assets? You mean females?” interjected Harold Jupp. “I hope you aren’t serious about this. It’s highly unusual in a simple trespassing case like this for the plaintiff to demand female relatives instead of money. This is frivolous, vindictive… My client, Mr Jones, is ready to pay as high as the standard blue-book price of an 18 year-old A-grade. This is much better than taking any of his female relatives, none of which are appraised as valuable.

Hunter pointed to Melanie without saying anything. “Oh, yes,” exclaimed the girl and started to shuffle through the stack of papers she was holding. She found what she was looking for in a few seconds and dropped it on the table. “Ahem, according to my… um… this cunt’s research, Mr Chuck Jones is the CMR of her mother and two sisters, all registered as high-end B-grades. Their latest inspections were done a couple years ago, so we expect them to be cheaper because of wear & tear and whatnot.”

“Yes,” responded the overweight lawyer, and moved in his seat nervously. “That’s why I said our offer is much better than any one of the-”

“My master wants all three of them,” interrupted Melanie. “The mother and the two sisters.”

“That’s ridiculous!” exploded the lawyer, then furiously slapped the sexretary who had been dutifully fellating him. The poor girl fell to her side and hit her head on the cabinet. Dazed and confused, she shakily got back up on her knees and waited for further directives.

“Calm down, Harold,” said Fungstorn. “Let the little cunt finish.” It was hard to tell if he was intrigued or nervous.

Melanie smiled and turned to him. “From your client, Master Fungstorn…” She looked down to check her list. “His mother, his two aunts, and three cousins…. oh, no, excuse this cunt, four cousins.”

The lawyer grinned and leaned back. “You’re… Your master is out of his fucking mind. He demands seven females as compensation? This is just a trespass. You know what? I came here hoping to settle the issue, but now I want it to go to trial. Young Stevenson will be laughed out of court.”

“This is not just a trespass, Mr Fungstorn,” interjected the younger lawyer sitting on the other side of Hunter. He took out a bunch of papers from his briefcase and distributed copies to each opposing representative.

“What is this?” asked Jupp.

“Post-rape records for slavecunt Maggie Cumbunny, issued by Snatchfield CRRC,” replied the man, coolly. “Please examine the list of damages incurred to the slavecunt closely.”

The lawyers fell silent as they browsed through the pages of the report. Melanie giggled when the quiet slurps and whimpers of the dutiful cocksuckers took over the room. She reached down and grabbed her girl by the hair and pressed her head deeper into her crotch. She couldn’t believe her luck. A beautiful freewoman was giving her, a lowly slavecunt, a sloppy cunnie. It was one of her master’s conditions. Melanie was to be treated as a member of the legal team. That meant a seat at the table, and a seat at the table meant a sexretary between her legs.

The girl looked up with her skilled tongue snaking deep in Mel’s fuckhole, and smiled with her pretty blue eyes. She was very good at it, and apparently had no problem serving an owned woman. Mel smiled back and let herself go. She was going to enjoy this rare gift as much as she could.

Unfortunately, her blissful ascent was interrupted when Fungstorn slapped the table in frustration. “Oh, fuck! Oooh fuck! Was it-”

“Yes,” interrupted Hunter, calmly. “Superior.”

“Fuck!” repeated the man and leaned back. He absentmindedly watched Shani’s beautiful head bobbing on his member for a while as he recalculated. Then he raised his palms play-acting a surrender. “I think,” he started, “I can convince my client to give up his aunts and… say, one... or two cousins?”

“No,” replied Mel before Hunter could react. “Both aunts and all four daughters. He may keep his mother if the rest are delivered tomorrow.”

Fungstorn exhaled in defeat. His seemingly perpetual smirk was gone. “I’ll take your offer to my client,” he said. “Under these circumstances… I think I can convince him to accept.” He picked up the medical report and shoved it in his briefcase. He slapped Shani to make her stop sucking and stood up. “If you excuse me, gentlemen, little cunt… Mr Hirsch, Thank you for the kind reception and this wonderful suckwhore. Mr Hunter, I’ll inform you about my client’s decision before the end of the day.” He fake-smiled and left the room with a brisk pace.

“What about you, Mr Jupp,” asked Melanie this time. She was getting more and more confident.

Jupp said nothing. He huffed and got up, then stormed out.

“That was rather rude,” commented Mel. “I mean, to you esteemed masters, of course.”

“We have informed you about our demands earlier in writing, Jeremiah,” said Hunter to the balding man, ignoring Melanie’s words. “Have you consulted with your client about it?”

“Yes, we have.”

“And?”

Hirsch grabbed the medical report he was presented a few minutes ago, and tore it into two.

“With all due respect, John, I think you’re full of shit. This medical report was issued by Snatchfield CRRC. Your client’s father invests heavily in that facility. They even have a wing named after him. Do you expect me to believe this is accurate?”

“You want to contest the veracity of the report?” asked Hunter.

“Oh, yes. I will.”

“In that case,” started the man and slapped his girl, “I guess we’ll see you in court.” He grabbed the cocksucker by the hair and pulled her to the side to get up. He then gestured to Melanie to do the same. The purple-haired pixie exhaled in frustration and tapped hers on the cheek gently. The sexretary pulled away and smiled. Only then Melanie realized that the girl was glad that she was ordered to serve a woman instead of a man. Mel being a slave didn’t really matter.

The men shook hands and the Stevenson team left the offices of Ulfbock & Hirsch. Once they were out of the building, Hunter turned to Mel and smiled for the first time since they were introduced.

“I liked the way you handled yourself in there, little cunt. Perhaps I should take slavegirls to every meeting and let them deliver our proposals. Your cutesy irreverence certainly flabbergasted those bozos.”

“Thank you very much, Master Hunter,” beamed Mel. “You think I’m cute, huh? My master will pick me up in 20 minutes. Would you two gentlemen like to rape me a couple times before he arrives?”

1725078244513.png
 

The Woods​


“I think we did it.”

“What?”

“We did it. We made it out of the city. See that tree line? We just have to cross that road and we can disappear in there, in the woods.”

Bonnie smiled. She didn’t really believe they could do it until that moment. Two women, unescorted, walking though alleyways and backroads? Surely they would be raped by bums, or worse, intercepted by the BFA patrols. But they weren’t. Either because of the brilliance of the escape plan aunt Cassie worked on for years, or simply by pure luck, the two runaways were now standing a couple hundred meters from freedom.

Freedom? What did that even mean? They would be safe from the state, perhaps, at least for a while, but what kind of life would they have? She wasn’t sure if she wanted to live in the woods like a wild animal. Perhaps a slave brothel would be preferable. They had beds there.

No, of course it wouldn’t be better. It was practically a death sentence. Not an immediate one, perhaps, but her aunt was right: No woman would survive for two decades in a place like that.

“It’s still too early. Not many cars on the road. We should hurry.” Aunt Cassie grabbed Bonnie by her wrist and pulled her towards the road. They jumped over the barriers and started to run across the four lane motorway. Only a few more meters and another metal barrier to cross…

A speeding car appeared out of nowhere. Surprised, Cassie turned to look, which made her stumble and fall. The driver slammed on the brakes and swerved in order not to hit the woman lying in the middle of the road. He managed to keep the car under control and stopped a few meters away.

Long seconds passed before the car door opened. The two runaways froze in terror as a young man jumped out of the vehicle and approached them.

“Are you okay? You hurt?”

Cassie shook her head, still unable to speak. Her mind was in fight-or-flight mode. Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to do either.

The man turned to Bonnie this time. She was kneeling besides her aunt with an expression of pure panic on her pretty face, also dumbstruck.

“Come on, help me get her up.” He reached down to help the fallen woman, but Cassie drew back in fear. He pulled back and raised his hands in the air. “Okay, relax.”

He took a step back, then looked into the scared eyes of the two women one by one. “You are running from someone. Mother and daughter? You are both freewomen by the looks of it. Daddy is chasing you? You’ve been naughty girls and he has a bad temper, huh?”

The runaways looked at each other and immediately decided to accept the story as their own. Bonny turned to the man and nodded timidly.

He smiled and pointed at the treeline. “What’s the plan? You’ll hide in the woods? Survive on tree leaves and earthworms?”

“Yes,” replied Cassie. Her body was still shaking as adrenaline continued to rush through her veins, but she was calmer now. “For a while. Until… my husband calms down.”

“I see.” The young man smiled again. He didn’t look like a threat. “Listen, ladies, I don’t want to poo-poo your master plan, but this is the worst place you could have picked. No fresh water source nearby, and you’d be unable to sleep at night because of all the howling.”

“Are there wolves here?” asked Bonnie nervously.

The man nodded. “If you want to disappear for a while, I suggest you walk north. About 20-25 kilometers from here, there is a nice little creek that flows into a small lake. Ideal place to hide for a few days.

“Thanks,” replied Cassie and attempted to stand up, but she immediately lost her balance and fell back on her butt.

“You must have sprained your ankle,” said the young man and reached down to help her. This time she reluctantly let him pull her back on her feet. “You can’t walk like this,” said Bonnie, “can you au-… m-mom?”

“I don’t think so,” said Cassie, disappointment on her face.

“I can drop you off, if you like. It’s on my way.” The two looked at each other again. They didn’t know anything about this helpful stranger, but they had no choice. “You better decide faster ladies,” he said and pointed to a car in the distance speeding towards them.

“Fine,” said Cassie. “Thank you. Just a few kilometers.”

The man smiled and helped the woman to the car. The runaways sat in the back seat with their bags, and he drove off.

The young man didn’t ask any questions during the trip. Cassie was grateful. She didn’t want him to talk to Bonnie especially, because that cute little moron was prone to slip up.

20 minutes later, the car slowed down and stopped at a crossing.

“You are not blinking, Miss,” smiled the man, looking at Cassie in the mirror. “I’ll drop you two here. Just follow this dirt path for 4-5 kilometers. You’ll see the creek. It will take you to the lake. Nobody will find you there.”

“4-5 kilometers? and then the creek. That’s about one hour walk, maybe more, isn’t it?” asked Bonnie.

The man nodded. “More or less.”

“My… mom cannot walk that long,” she continued. “Could you please take us a little further?”

The young man looked at his watch and exhaled. “Fine. I guess I can do that.”

“Thank you,” smiled Bonnie.

He started the engine again and turned to the dirt road. Another 5-6 minutes passed. They went deeper and deeper into woods until they were surrounded by nothing but green. They lost all sense of direction.

“Here we are,” the young man said and stopped. He jumped out and opened the door for Cassie. She stepped out and froze in surprise. They were at a camping area surrounded by three mid-sized tents. Four young men were sitting around a campfire. Behind them stood a shoddily constructed shed.

“Finally!” yelled one of the boys and jumped onto his feet. “Wait a minute. Darren, who the hell are these ladies?”

The two runaways were dumbstruck once again. Unable to understand what was happening, they looked at the driver with widened eyes.

“I picked them on the way,” he said with a grin. “They are running from someone. Naturally, I offered help.”

“Aaah! How nice of you,” laughed the boy and approached the two frozen women. He took a long look at them and patted the driver on the shoulder. “And where are Commoncunt and her little tyke, Darren?”

“They are in the trunk,” he replied and turned to the women. “Please have a seat, ladies.”

Bonnie looked at the boy and then her aunt with a stunned expression. Cassie held her breath and tried to think. How could she be so stupid! How could she trust a stranger like this! This was the absolute worst case scenario. They were deep in the woods, surrounded by five strange men.

There was no escape.

“Sit!” ordered the boy this time, and pushed Cassie towards the group. The duo reluctantly walked over and sat down on the boulders placed around the fire.

1725078288070.png



“Welcome,” started the short-haired boy sitting directly across. He carried himself like the leader of the group. “I’m George. These are Arthur, Nate, and Ronald. I see you already met Darren, who was kind and considerate enough to give you a ride here.”

The women were still too scared to speak.

“And what are your names, ladies?”

Bonnie opened her mouth, but her aunt grabbed her knee to silence her.

“I’m sorry young man,” said Cassie. “We don’t have names.”

“You don’t have names?” repeated George and chuckled. “That’s strange. I never met a woman without a name. Arthur, have you seen one?”

“Never,” the other replied. “Perhaps we can give them names.”

“We can call them stupid and unlucky,” Ronald jumped in. “You have to be very stupid or extremely unlucky to end up in a rape camp deep in the woods.”

“A rape camp?” gasped Bonnie. “What is…”

Cassie squeezed her niece's knee again. They had to be very careful now. The boy was right. They were stupid and unlucky. Now they found themselves in a nightmare, only some clever strategy and huge luck could save them. They had to survive this inevitable ordeal, no matter what.

“Are you going to rape us, young man?”

“I think we have to,” replied George. “I mean, what would you do if you were in our place, Stupid?”

“Please,” the woman replied, “call me Connie. This is my daughter Blair.” She took a deep breath. “We will… gladly serve you… eagerly and enthusiastically, if you promise to let us go when you’re done with us.”

“Eagerly and enthusiastically, eh?” laughed the leader. “What do you say, boys?”

“I don’t know,” said Ronald, “I don’t like it when they are enthusiastic. They don’t scream well if they are too eager and obedient.”

“Me neither,” agreed Nate. “I like the pained shrieks.”

“The boys make a good point,” said George with an ominous grin. “You see, we come here to hurt women. We used to kidnap freewomen such as yourselves and bring them here. Violate and torture them for a few days and get rid of them after. Then we decided to buy our own slave, and got a cheap milf. We recently acquired her daughter too. Such a joy to rape them together. We like hurting them of course, but it is always much more fun if we make them hurt each other.”

The runaways swallowed in terror.

“A mother and daughter set, just like you ladies. Tell me, Stupid, would you be able to hurt Unlucky eagerly and enthusiastically when we order you to do so?”

“I… can’t,” mumbled the woman. “I cannot hurt her. Please, do whatever you want to me. Hurt me anyway you like. Just don’t make me…

“Come on Georgie,” interjected Darren. “You expect too much from these nice ladies. They are inexperienced freewomen after all, not well-trained slaves. Even our dutiful Commoncunt and Cumcuntling cannot perform their routines perfectly yet.”

“You’re right,” agreed George. “We should start with a good old-fashioned gangrape.” He stood up and gestured to the ladies to follow him. “Come ladies, if you would. Let me give you the grand tour. Arthur and Nate spent many hours to build this rape-shack for our loyal slaves, but I guess you two will be its first guests.”

He walked over the cabin and opened the door for the women to enter.

Cassie froze for another few seconds, thinking and calculating their options, then finally stood up and followed George. Bonnie followed her aunt with an expression of silent terror.

George waited for the two enter with an unnervingly normal smile on his face. The room was a small square, roughly 3 meters wide. On the far end a dirty mattress was placed over a makeshift bed made out of fallen tree trunks. Cassie noticed several rusty metal shackles attached around the bed. Next to the bed stood a strange-looking narrow table, complete with metal rings and straps dangling from the sides. Different types of scary looking whips, floggers and paddles lined the side wall. The horrifying scene was completed by a rusty metal bucket in the corner and a few plastic water bottles lying on the ground.

“So, which one of you nice ladies will take the bed?” asked George. “I’m afraid one of you will be bent over this table. It is quite convenient for us rapists, but it can be a bit uncomfortable for the woman we'll be spit-roasting. At least less comfortable than the mattress.”

“M-my daughter will take the bed,” Cassy stammered with tears running down her cheeks.. “You can tie me to the w-wooden… thing.”

“Very well.” said the young man. “Then I’ll ask you to disrobe, so Nate and Arthur can restrain you properly.”

“Do you… do you have to tie us up?” asked Bonnie with a trembling voice. “We won’t try to escape, promise.”

“Ah! I’m afraid we cannot take that risk, sweetheart,” replied Arthur. “It’s for your own safety, really. You see, we had some problems with some of our previous victims. During the rape, we’ll hurt you so much, you won’t help yourself and try to resist. Then we’ll have to hurt you even more than necessary. You don’t want that, do you?”

“No, sir,” sobbed Bonnie and continued to take off her clothes. In a few seconds both women were completely naked. “Cassie grabbed Bonnie’s clothes from her, quickly folded them into a neat pile, and placed them on their bags next to the door. “Please don’t damage these,” she pleaded. “This is everything we have.”

“Of course. You can take them back when we’re done with you.” George stepped out of the way to let Nate and Arthur in. Arthur placed Bonnie on the mattress and shackled her wrists and ankles, leaving her in a vulnerable X shape. Nate bent aunt Cassie over the table and strapped her elbows and knees to the legs of the contraption.

“Alright. I guess it’s time then. Darren, you brought these ladies here, so I guess you should get first pick. Which one do you want to start with?”

1725078317241.png
 

Processing​


Approaching steps prompted the girls to jump up from their corner and face the door on their knees for the hundreth time since they were brought in their cell. They had been doing it every single time, without exception.

Since the lady from the law firm left, they had no other visitors. The guards often passed by or entered other cells, but left Shayla and Yasmeen alone so far.

Footsteps often led to begging, screams, sobs and moans. They figured at least some of the other detainees were “available” for the guards to use.

Every time they heard boots in the distance they assumed it was their turn, but the men kept ignoring them. Every near-miss allayed their fears a little bit more. And now, several hours into their detention, they were almost certain that they were going to be spared the rough treatment their fellow inmates suffered at the hands of the guards. It was almost time for the prosec to evaluate their case anyway.

This time, however, the men stopped in front of their cell. They gasped. The door opened. Two uniformed officers entered and stood on either side of the girls. Not knowing exactly what to do, and too scared to say anything, they adjusted their postures as well as they could and looked straight ahead.

The men slowly walked around the two naked captives shivering on their knees , examining them from top to bottom. The girls held their breath.

“Back to back,” ordered the bigger one.

“E-excuse me, Sir?” asked Shayla, with a trembling voice.

A hard slap landed on her left cheek, then another on Yasmeen’s. “Back to back, now!”

The girls quickly obeyed the order with shock in their teary eyes. The guards took their places on either side of the trembling duo and took out their cocks without saying anything.

“Sir… We are masterless sluts pending trial. We are restricted in all hol-”

Another slap exploded on Shay’s right cheek this time. As she reeled in pain, she heard Yasmeen take a hard one on her face too. “Silence, sluts! Open your mouths and stick out your tongues. I don’t want to hear another word, do you understand?”

Tears gushing out of their eyes, the girls nodded and did exactly as they were told. Shayla’s guard took a step forward and pointed his semi-erect dick towards her open mouth, a few centimeters away from the tip of her tongue. She waited for a few seconds for him to shove it in, but he remained still. When he raised his hand threateningly a moment later, she lunged forward in fear and took the big fat thing in her mouth. She closed her eyes and started to suck on it slowly, bringing it to full hardness in a few seconds.

She was unable to see her friend now, but she could hear her reluctant whimpers and slurps. Yasmeen was definitely the best cocksucker of the trio, and Shay had seen her perform many times, of course. Neither were inexperienced virgins, but they had never found themselves in a serious situation like this. This could be the very first step of an irreversible descent to hell. This could be the end of their freedom. They could end up as Peter’s Stevenson’s slaves, or even worse, they could end up in a state slave brothel.

“How is yours, Baxter?”

Shay looked up nervously to see if the man was giving her a command. He wasn’t.

“She’s very good. Nice rhythm, great mix of small licks and deep throats. She certainly had a lot of dicks in her mouth this one. What about yours?”

“Not awful,” replied the man who was fucking her mouth. This somehow made Shayla feel even worse. “Switch?”

“Sure”, the other said. The men pulled their cocks out of the girls’ mouths and walked around. Shay tried to catch her breath before the other cock was shoved down her throat.


1725078352703.png



The second guard was slightly shorter but thicker. Her jaw stretched to the limit, Shay struggled to adjust to the extra girth. He let her suck on it for a while. Then he put his hands around her ears and held her head in place to fuck it himself. Accustomed to such treatment, Shay immediately let herself go and relaxed her throat so he could rape her on his own tempo.

She could still hear Yasmeen dutifully sucking and slurping on the other dick. The fact that she was already turned into a passive hole while her friend was still allowed to perform was another blow on her self-confidence. Was she jealous of her friend in this horrible situation? She felt silly.

“You’re right,” said the guard who was fucking Yasmeen’s face now. “This one is great. Possibly the best one I had all day. “Too bad we have to take them upstairs in a few minutes.”

“Maybe they can extend their detention a day or two,” said the other and pulled out of Shay’s mouth. She looked up and waited for a command. It came in the form of a slap. She shrieked in surprise but quickly realized what was expected of her when the man grabbed her by the hair and started to rub his cock all around her beautiful face. All she had to do was keep her mouth open and tongue out.

“Let’s switch.”

This time the men remained in place but the girls were exchanged like mere toys. Shay quickly assumed proper kneeling position before the first guard. She barely had a chance to breathe before his long member penetrated her lips and stuck in her surprised throat. Yasmeen groaned when her jaw was stretched open by the other guard. Now neither girl was allowed to move. They were no longer human. They were nothing but meat with warm holes.

Strangely, Shay felt relieved. When she was being raped, she preferred being rendered passive like a fuckdoll. If she had no agency, no choice, she couldn’t possibly make a big mistake and anger her rapists. It was always better to let them use her the way they wanted.

She let herself go and waited for them to finish with her. The men continued to pound the girls’ faces, switched a couple more times, slapped them occasionally, and finally emptied down their gullets one after another. Shay felt strangely proud when she became the first to receive her rapist’s cum.

The guards pulled out and zipped up, then slapped the girls hard one last time.

“Swallow everything, sluts. Leave no trace.”

“Yes Sir,” replied the girls and did as they were told.

“Not good enough. Clean each other properly.

“Yes Sir,” they said again, and timidly licked a few runaway droplets off each other’s faces.

“Very good. Now, surrender your necks for the leash. The prosec will see you in 5 minutes.”

“Yes Sir.” The girls lifted their hair and held their breath as the guards locked thick leather collars around their slender necks. When her leash was attached, Yasmeen obediently fell down on all fours, ready to crawl out of the cell.

“Stand up, you stupid cow,” laughed the guard with the thick dick. “You may walk… for now.”

Shay helped her friend to get up but immediately felt a jolt of fear when she realized that acted without permission. The guards didn’t seem to care. She wished she knew the rules. Everything seemed arbitrary in this hellish place.

The guard with the longer dick moved onto the next cell, and the other yanked the girls towards the other direction. They obediently followed him upstairs. Soon they found themselves in a better lit, better decorated corridor, in front of an oak door. The brass plaque next to it read “Prosecutor’s Office.” Dread hit the girls as the guard knocked.

“Come in!”

The guard opened the door and pushed the girls in. A balding middle aged man with a bushy moustache was sitting behind a big desk. Shay’s eyes wandered around the room, looking for the young woman from the law firm. She told them she’d be here to represent them, but she was nowhere to be seen.

“Inspection!” ordered the guard sternly. “On tiptoes, legs apart, hands behind your heads!” The girls struggled to follow the instructions at first, so he guided them with a few well-placed slaps. “Masterless sluts Shayla Tyran and Yasmeen Hulqum, Sir,” he announced once the girls managed to assume the required position. The prosecutor nodded. The guard detached the girls’ leashes and stepped back, leaving the two naked girls trembling in the middle of the office.

“So…” The guy started without looking at them and picked up a file from the pile in front of him, “this is aiding and abetting a trespass. What will your defense be? Stupidity again?”

Shay and Yas looked at each other with puzzled faces. Which one should talk? After a moment of indecision, Shayla opened her mouth timidly, but she wasn’t able to utter a word.

“Yes Sir. They are stupid.”

A pretty redhead popped from behind the desk and startled the girls. Sofia Necia, their legal representative, was kneeling between the prosecutor’s legs. She licked her full lips and swallowed the fresh cum in her mouth, then respectfully stood up and walked from behind the desk. Her well-endowed chest was bare, her wet tits were glistening under the soulless fluorescent light, and a stream of his ejaculate was flowing down her deep cleavage. When she approached and turned, the girls realized that her top was used to bind her wrists behind her back.

“They were ordered by three boys to service the plaintiff for a while.” the woman started, as if she wasn’t tied and covered in jizz. “Nothing out of the ordinary, really. They were used to getting utilized by this particular group. They were told that it was a prank between friends. They were too stupid to put two and two together and realize that this was a serious trespass.” She walked around the girls and stopped on the other side. “Just look at them, Sir. You can easily see that they were created to be fucked, not to think.”

“The same can be said for you, Sofia,” chuckled the prosecutor. “But you have proven many times that you can do both.”

1725078399070.png


“Thank you, Your Honor,” smiled the woman. “But I assure you. These girls, they are really, really, really stupid. In fact, they are so stupid, they revealed the plan to the plaintiff themselves, prematurely. And thanks to their stupidity, Mr Stevenson was able to rush in and retrieve her property in time, before his slave was accidentally terminated. These girls, they actually saved a life.”

A mocking grin appeared on the guy’s face. “They saved a life, eh?” He shuffled the papers he was holding. “The file says there were three of them. Where is this... Bonnie Lass.”

“Still at large, Sir,” interjected the guard standing by the door. “We don’t know where she is.”
 

The Banana Club​


Yasmeen wasn’t the most popular girl in school. She wasn’t a total recluse, but she certainly wasn’t outgoing or sociable. At best, she could be described as a high-functioning introvert. She didn’t have many friends save for the two chicks who somehow adopted her and dragged her around town. She liked them, and she liked herself when she was with them.

Shayla was the natural leader of the group. She often called the shots, picked their hangouts, and led them into crazy adventures. She knew how to get them out of trouble whenever they find themselves in one. Granted, her solutions often involved her huge tits, which she knew how to weaponize, but she was a smart and fun girl too. Everyone liked that blue-haired slut.
Bonnie, the quintessential blonde of the trio, was the opposite of Yasmeen. She was always optimistic, friendly, and full of energy. An irresistible extrovert. She and Shayla managed to bring Yasmeen out of her shell and transform her into a “normal” girl capable of social interaction. She loved them for it.

“What the hell are you doing, slut? Focus!”

Yasmeen stopped and raised her head. The big cock she had been sucking for the last two minutes or so popped out of her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she apologized with a soft voice. “I was distracted for a moment.”

“Don’t be,” the boy scowled. “You are the only slut we have tonight. Since your stupid friends didn’t show up, you’ll be working three times as hard.”

“Yes of course,” she nodded frantically, and took the boy’s cock back in her mouth.

The Banana Club was one of the best-known secrets of their high school. For the boys, it was very hard to become a member. But once they got in, they gained access to the best girls in the school. Specifically, their mouths and buttholes.

For girls, the rules of membership were rather different. Prettiest girls in the school often found an anonymous note on their desks with a date and location under a crude drawing of a banana. They rarely refused to comply. If they did, they were grabbed and dragged to the “club house,” which was actually the old factory guardhouse behind the school. Such defiance was punished by an additional beating at their “initiation” to the club.

Officially, the administration didn’t allow casual rape of female students or personnel. It was one of the last schools in the city, perhaps in the country, to restrict female utilization. All the female staff was freewomen, and none had sexual functions as employees. But of course, the administration had no authority beyond school grounds, where the old shack was located.

Yasmeen received her note two months and eight days ago.

Since then she served at 5 parties.

The club had about 15 male members but generally only 6-7 of them attended single-girl gangrapes. Every now and then, they threw bigger parties with multiple girls. This was supposed to be one of those. That evening Yasmeen was scheduled to serve together with a girl named Janet, a newer recruit, and Ms Gallers, one of the math teachers. Unfortunately, neither showed up.

And now, because of those two stupid bitches, poor Yasmeen was alone, kneeling at the center of a 14-boy circle, her hands locked behind her neck in a wooden yoke and her ankles held by a simple pillory. Luckily, it was only a face-rape party, but it was certainly going to be a rough night for the lone victim. Especially because the boys were mad at the girls who didn’t show up. Yasmeen knew that they would take their frustration out of her. She expected to be spanked and flogged between throatings

View attachment 835112



She clearly remembered what happened to one of the girls who didn’t come voluntarily a few weeks ago. It wasn’t pretty. Yasmeen was eventually allowed to leave after a two-hour-long hravy-use session, but the other girl was kept there for the rest of the night and got flogged until the next morning by the seven members present. The poor thing was hospitalized for a week. She served as a good example for the rest of the girls in school. None of the recipients of the “banana notes” ever failed to show up after that. Until that night.

Yasmeen thanked the boy for ejaculating on her face. A fifth cock replaced the fourth. She immediately started to suck like a good girl. This entire thing was confusing for her. She certainly didn’t like to be held in this dirty cabin and get gag-raped by these horny bastards, but… she kinda liked giving head. When the rapist wasn’t a violent micromanaging asshole, a blowjob could be relaxing, almost like a meditative act. She liked the repetitive motion. It silenced and cleared her mind. She felt a tingle of satisfaction whenever she added some creative twist in her tried-and-tested routine and received a positive reaction.

She even liked the taste of their cum.

Well, perhaps only some of them. All men tasted similar to some extent, but the little variations made all the difference. Among the men she sucked off, members of this club or others, she had favorites. Some boys just tasted great. Some she didn’t mind swallowing, and some tasted awful. It was always good when her favorite ones unloaded in her mouth and others came on her face. Of course, she rarely got her way. As a girl, she had no say in it, but in time she learned to use facial expressions to enhance her chances. With every rape, she got better at begging for it.

The eleventh boy ejaculated in her mouth. She thanked him and smiled. Se didn’t know his name, but he was one of the good-tasting ones. Her tired smile froze when she saw the next in line. That one was a particularly sadistic asshole. It was going to be a violent skullfuck.

The boy took his cock out and stood in front of her. Yasmeen opened her mouth and looked up. She didn’t intend to antagonize him in any way. He approached but stopped short of penetrating her full lips. Then he grinned, grabbed her dress and pulled it brutally. It took only two yanks to tear the flimsy fabric into shreds. Ripped fabric flew across the room and left the poor girl completely naked. This violent revelation of her beautiful body energized the remaining members of the club. Se barely heard the applause and the wolf-whistles, because her mind switched to emergency mode when the boy grabbed her easy-rape yoke and shoved his fat dick all the way down her throat.

As the boy fucked her face as brutally as he could, Yasmeen’s thoughts went back to her besties. For some reason, neither Shayla nor Bonnie received the infamous “banana notes.” Of course, Yasmeen didn’t know each and every girl who were appropriated by the club. She only knew the girls whom she served together with, and guessed a few more. They were easy to spot on after-party days with their fresh bruises and thousand-yard stares. But she was almost certain that her friends were not taken. She would know if they were.

Like all girls, Shayla and Bonnie had their share of horror stories, of course. Neither were virgins in any hole. The three of them often found themselves surrounded by cocks and sucked and fucked their way out of it. But only Yasmeen was being systematically utilized like this, almost like a slavegirl. She served whenever she was ordered, after all. She was a sex slave in all but name. Much better than that, actually. Her masters didn’t pay taxes or maintenance for their obedient fuckmeat.

When her last “master” emptied his balls all over her pretty face, she hoped to rest her jaw for a few minutes. Unfortunately, the group was too big and she was alone. Many of the members were ready to go again. Another cock was shoved in her mouth without giving her time to catch her breath and the second round began.

Why were her best friends spared? Yasmeen often wondered about that. They were better looking than her, more popular and outgoing too. She had no way of knowing the victim selection criteria of the club members. She only knew that she met them. Was it because she was a shy, timid girl who was less likely to complain and report the abuse? Perhaps they picked her because she looked exotic and different?

Or maybe, they just liked the way she sucked them. She remembered getting faceraped by two of the members in the girls’ room even before she received her banana note. Perhaps they were the selection committee?

Another coat of cum over her face. Another dick shoved in her throat. She began sucking it as eagerly as the first one. She was tired and her jaw was aching, but she knew well that lack of enthusiasm was punishable by flogging. After getting off each member once, she was more optimistic about her chances of surviving this ordeal without a beating. After all, why should she get the beating. The two who didn’t show up should be punished, not her. She was the good whore who did her duty.

Her duty? Did she call this her duty?

The boy climaxed quickly this time. She opened wide and stuck her tongue out like she was supposed to do, but he chose to target her forehead instead. She closed her eyes and let him clean his cock on her brows. She was feeling the weight of the jizz covering her face now. Earlier coats were starting to dry, but the the newer coats kept dripping down her cheeks and neck.

View attachment 835113



Another fat one was shoved between her full lips immediately. Once again, she wasn’t allowed to suck. The boy held her yoke by the handles and started to fuck her throat without mercy. She was nothing but a warm hole now.

Cocks followed one another. She was fed and coated again and again. She didn’t know exactly when, but sometime during the third round, a member decided to take a group picture to upload to her Registry page. They gathered around Yasmeen’s cum-covered naked body and snapped a few poses. One was picked to be uploaded, but when the boy logged on and pulled her Registry page, an unusual beep was heard.

“Your night just got better, slut,” grinned the boy she hated the most. “This warning says that you are wanted by the BFA. I think we have to do our civic duty and make a citizen’s arrest, boys.”

such a beautiful contraption to control her head and to bind her
 

Similar threads

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