There was something that didn’t feel right about this interview from the start but she really needed a job. When she got there the place smelled damp and old, and a silent man led her down some lose stairs into a dark room.
She heard a door lock behind her and someone laughing. She felt hands choking her and ripping her clothes off, then the lights came on.
A whole gang of men held her down, beating her and forcing their cocks up her ass. She couldn’t believe this was happening. It was surreal.
She closed her eyes and screamed, hoping to wake up from this nightmare, but the pain just got worse. One of them was shoving his hand up her asshole. She couldn’t understand why anyone would do that.
Earth was dying.
We had run out of resources, stripping the oil from below the earth, eating up all the trees, and poisoning the seas. There were mass famines, floods on incredible scale, tornadoes in New York City.
We had to leave. So in the highest towers of the last civilized refuges of the world - Denver, Bern, Lhasa - a plan was hatched. We took the last of our resources - fortunes of gold melted down into circuit boards, temples torn down for mixing into concrete, statues broken into steel hull plates - and built a massive spaceship.
It was miles long, filled with everything we could put in it - culture, science, and as much of humanity as would survive. We didn’t have faster than light travel, we didn’t have anything like what you’ve heard about on Star Trek.
Instead, our ship would have to be self-sustaining. We used our legacy seed bank packets - corn untouched by the genetic engineering that had turned it to poison, peas that were green and not red - to set up great farms inside the ship. We designed scrubbers to break down engine waste into water. It would have to survive for a thousand years or more, all on its own - a ship for many generations, to leave Earth and slowly make its way to the planet we had found beyond Alpha Centauri.
Water. It had clear, blue, unpoisoned water. That was our hope.
And it was our only chance - if this ship failed, there would be no more left. Earth would be unlivable in a century, and humanity would be gone with it.
Our brightest minds - psychologists, sociologists, biologists - tried to think of ways to keep the ship running well. The best government model. The most effective ways to prevent depression, crime, discord. It would take generations for the journey - men would be born, grow old, die, never knowing anything beyond the ship. We had to predict lives - and get it perfectly.
Eventually, we came to one, inevitable conclusion. When we loaded the ship, when we set humanity on its new path, we crewed it with three men to every woman. The men walked on, carrying cases of mementos, their lives in boxes. They were cheered as heroes, kissed off lovingly, told they would be missed. They were scientists, soldiers, great thinkers. The best of humanity, chosen to be what remained of us.
The women? No one was there to see them off, as they were loaded on in great metal crates, eight women packed in each. They were chained, manacled, bound to the walls of the crates. They were prisoners, taken from their jobs as prostitutes, strippers, even just housewives stolen off the streets. We didn’t care.
You see, we had figured out that gender - and gender equality - was a trifle, a distraction we could not tolerate on this all-important journey. We had to keep everyone focused on the journey, keeping the ship going, continuing to grow food and staying alive.
Staying alive. Gender has nothing to do with that.
So the women had to be controlled. We couldn’t get rid of them, of course - it was a generation ship. They needed to be there, to give birth to the next generation. But we could imprison them, chain them, dehumanize them. Keep things peaceful.
So next to the leisure areas of the ship was the harem. We didn’t need to call it anything else - it was women, lots and lots of women, to be shared and used however a man wanted, whenever they wanted. The women were chained in individual suites and cells, with little stimulation or freedom. Just a plain cot, a hole in the floor for a toilet, and a slot in the wall. Computers put food through the slot, the girls ate it, they slept, and the only change in their routines was when men entered to use them.
It must have been very boring - continually being imprisoned, tied up, with nothing to do. The girls slowly went insane, catatonic or breaking down. Several of them just got sullen, saying nothing, just spreading their legs when a man entered their cell, cupping their breasts in their hands to show themselves off. Others plead, begged. They offered anything, trying so hard to be seductive, to give the best blowjobs, to entice men to free them.
The latter were the most popular, often low on sleep from men entering their rooms at any hour to use them. They couldn’t stop them - the men had access at all times, and chose when to fuck whoever they wanted. Still, we needed children, so we couldn’t leave any womb empty. Instead, men were occasionally assigned breeding duty - they would go to a less popular woman’s cell and impregnate her, using whatever was necessary. If a girl was resistant, they would shock her with a cattle prod until she stopped resisting, tie her to her bed, and fuck her roughly. Many of the girls cried while they were being forcibly bred, their lack of freedom and their inability to consent irrelevant to the man pumping between their legs, filling them with seed.
Parentage didn’t matter. All that mattered were children - the most important thing of all. The computers of the harem paid attention to the women’s hormones, their states, their pregnancy.
When a woman became pregnant, the computer noticed. Her cell ceiling opened - and the last item of her imprisonment became clear. A large human milking machine, with cups for her breasts. The woman was required to milk herself for an hour each day from the start of pregnancy, and hormones were added to her food to induce lactation. Human milk was a precious resource, and we needed as much of it as we could get. Both for feeding children, and for replacing cow’s milk in the men’s food.
If a woman wouldn’t milk herself, a man was assigned to come by her cell. He would shock her, and tie her into the milking machine. The computer would begin an intensive twenty-four hour long milking program dedicated to wringing every last drop from her breasts. No woman ever refused to milk herself after experiencing a full day of milking.
Men were still allowed to fuck a pregnant woman for the first trimester. Several found her pregnancy - the signs of her body being used and invaded by men, the sweet sprays from her tits when hit - quite sexy. After the first semester, a woman’s cell was closed for the rest of her pregnancy, the better to protect her baby. It was only opened again when she began to give birth, with men coming into her room to aid. Once she had had the baby, the men threw her back on the bed, hosed her and her room off, and removed the baby for processing. Many mothers never saw their child’s face. Twenty-four hours later, the mother was available for use as part of the harem again.
Babies were sexed, of course. Boys were taken to a nursery, watched over, and grew up in a childhood akin to the schooling and free play of Earth, complete with a father pair. Girls were processed, instead: immediately removed to a stasis chamber, to be incubated, grow up, and reach maturity in a coma state. Their childhoods effectively never existed.
Once a girl was eighteen years old, she was removed from the stasis chamber and placed in an indoctrination chair. Without pause or rest, her mind was filled with sexual imagery - old Earth pornography, videotapes taken from the harem. There were vibrators attached to a saddle she sat on, a clit tingler being the most effective, but all of her holes were kept wide and open, continually abused. Her ears were filled with nothing but cries of orgasm, pleasure, breeding. It was our hope that by the end of this year-long process she would understand her place on the ship as just a broodmare: to be fucked, to be pregnant and to be milked.
After a year of continual arousal, a woman was removed from the indoctrination chair and placed in an empty cell in the harem. Lots were drawn in a lottery for a man to be the lucky one to take her virginity. New girls were always the best - incredibly skilled, incredibly dedicated by their brainwashing, the second generation was an immediate improvement from the first. They never complained, they never stopped, they never said no - they just sucked and fucked and stuffed themselves full of as much come as they could. And they smiled, beaming, when their bellies began to grow, and their tits began to leak.
We passed a hundred generations like this, before we made it to our destination. New Earth turned out to be lucky, full of not only clean water but even land, and we were quickly able to settle it.
Unfortunately, there was one side effect of the long trip. Instead of women as part of the human race, we had long ago bred women to be nothing but mindless, unthinking sex slaves. They were simply unsuitable for a real, free, life. The program was supposed to be temporary, but it was all too permanent. Women must be kept in cells, indoctrinated and used - they simply cannot think of anything else. We made them not people thousands of years ago, and dehumanized sex dolls they will stay. Forever.
I think I have a position at my home that she would fill nicely.
Slave cunt here cooks and serves breakfast in bed to Master and his new girlfriend.
Come now, there’s still far too much personality and humanity left in those eyes. Back in position, cunt. This is going to take a while.
After a year and a half with your sister, fucking her is getting to be like throwing a kielbasa into an airplane hangar. What a good thing you’ve grown up so nicely. Ignore her calling you downstairs. I’ll let her suck you off my cock later, when I remind her how useless a loose cunt is to me. And you’ll listen through the wall and touch yourself, like you always do, you filthy little slut.
Pamela was roused from sleep by a tugging on one of the belts which dug into her legs above and below her knees. One belt and then the second belt was removed. Pamela figured that she was about to be taken on another trip to the toilet even though she had no urge to go. But the tension on her bound breasts wasn’t relieved. Pamela then felt her ankle cuffs removed and then her stockings were taken off. Underneath the tight leather helmet, her eyes darted and her breathing became that much more quicker.
Hands spread her legs apart and a moment later, the eggs were pulled out of her vagina. Then her teddy was pulled off her. Except for the leather helmet and single sleeve, she was naked and exposed. The next thing Pamela felt was some sort of cream being rubbed all over her legs and crotch. It was cold at first but then warmed as it touched her skin. This was followed by a razor and soon Pamela’s legs were shaved smooth along with her vulva. A towel cleaned off any shaving cream and hair cuttings.
At last, her breasts were released from their restraint and Pamela was brought to her feet. She then felt the gag withdrawn from her mouth and the gag harness unbuckled and removed. And in short order, her arms were released from the single sleeve. Without hesitation, Pamela rubbed her arms, flexing them and she walked in place. She then massaged her breasts to bring circulation back into them, the flesh of her breasts tender. She even touched her shaven vulva and despite herself, was impressed with the smoothness of the shave. A few biting motions worked out the kinks in her jaw muscles.
Pamela assumed her captors were still within the room and she kept herself straight, standing tall. She knew she was being prepared for a new torment and at least for a moment, she tried to present a defiant stance, despite her helmet and nudity. A tug on her collar told her she needed to walk and so she did, being led around the room, exercising her legs. Each swish of her hips and thighs caused the butt plug in her rectum to shift as the flesh contacted the large, round base of the plug. It only served to continue to remind Pamela it was there. She was thankful, however, that her anus had since tightened around the more slender base of the plug and no longer pained her. She winced at the thought of it being removed…or, being replaced with something even larger….
Pamela was brought to a halt and while still standing, felt a powder being applied to her legs, buttocks, and arms. Hands then guided her feet into what felt like rubber to Pamela. The thick material was pulled up her legs, resulting in more than a few tugs. Her arms were put through the sleeves and then the rest of the suit was pulled up, the rubber tight along her crotch and plug. Her breasts were pushed into the rubber cups and the suit pulled up over her shoulders. Her collar was removed and she felt the zipper along the back of the rubber bodysuit pulled, sealing her into it. Her collar was then returned to her neck. Pamela felt the rubber cling tight to her skin.
A hand pushed Pamela to her knees and she offered no resistance. Zippers along the cups of the bodysuit opened, exposing Pamela’s breasts. One of her captors produced vibrating nipple clamps, the metal clamps themselves quite large and bare, without any rubber coating. Hands gripped her breasts, squeezing them to make the nipples jut upwards and the clamps sank into the flesh. So painful was it that Pamela cried out. Once clamped, her breasts were pushed back into the cups, jarring the clamps which made her sob even more. Only the wires controlling the vibrating eggs fixed to the clamps poked out from the zippered cups.
Next, Pamela was pushed onto her stomach, continuing her pained sobs when her weight pressed down on her breasts, jarring the clamps yet again. Her legs were spread apart and she could feel zippers being opened. The first thing she felt was something being screwed into the base of her butt plug. This was followed by a sharp pain which made her scream as the catheter was pushed into her urethra. Even as she continued to whimper as the catheter pain ebbed, a large hose was pushed up into her vagina. This was followed by a cup being fitted over her vulva, an egg shaped vibrator under the cup being pressed against her clitoris once fingers moved the clitoral hood back. Once everything was in her, the zippers were shut around the cup, tubes, hoses, and wires.
Pamela felt her high heels put onto her feet and her legs pushed forward, calves touching her thighs. Belts ran around her feet and ankles, locks holding them in place. A belt secured her thighs together and another belt kept her legs in place. Her arms were returned to the single sleeve with two belts holding her wrists and upper arms together. Two belts around her lower and upper body kept her arms lashed down to her back. Finally, another belt was wrapped around her abdomen.
Pamela’s rubber imprisonment was sealed when the new gag harness was secured around her head. The opening was wider than the last gag, straining her jaw muscles. Buckles held it fast to the helmet. With the larger mouth opening, Pamela was not surprised the gag itself was bigger but her tongue felt two tubes alongside the phallus shaped gag. One was below the gag while the other was slightly above it. Once the gag was wedged in, Pamela felt her head brought back and while she could not see it, she soon found that a strap was connected to the gag harness and looped around her bound feet, keeping her head up.
Pamela could barely move. Whereas before, despite her bound breasts, she could at least move her legs about or move her body, her new bondage was merciless. She tried moving her upper body only to find a tug on her collar informed her she had been chained down to the floor. At best, she could move her head a inch or three if she strained her feet. Her arms were going nowhere. Maybe she could roll onto her side but she knew that would be even worse of a position. Saliva soon began to build up in her mouth and she despaired that she was unable to tilt her head back to swallow it. Then the level of saliva tapered off and Pamela realized one of the tubes was there to act as a drain. The gag itself was her feeding tube and she guessed the other tube was for air.
Then things began to sink in for her and soon she was left with no doubts about her current fate. A flush of liquid poured into her rectum through the plug’s tube, causing her to jerk in her bonds. The hot liquid began to make her cramp and being on her stomach, only made it worse. She had no idea how many quarts went into her but after she was left to writhe in agony, suction drained off much of the liquid and whatever fecal matter was within her. This was followed by a rush of liquid in her vagina which was then followed by suction. That she was catheterized told her that her urine would be collected as well. This was then followed up by vibrations at her tightly clamped nipples and clitoris, caused by the eggs. A few minutes later, the vibrations ceased. The final touch was a clip secured to her nose, forcing her to breath through her gag’s tube.
Pamela began to panic. Encased in rubber, effectively unable to move, and connected to some form of feeding system and cleansing system for both her vagina (due to her eventual bleeding from her periods) and bodily waste, unable to see, unable to hear, unable to smell, and even her breath able to be controlled if her captors wanted to torment her further, Pamela squirmed and sobbed. She realized they could keep her like this for days and days on end, maybe weeks, confined and controlled, torturing her via the vibrators, flushing her body at will, feeding and watering her when they wanted….
Pamela could hear only the sounds of her head and the nightmares that played out in her mind’s eye as her new confinement began again….
With approximately twenty strikes per minute, the machine was dilating the slave girls pussy already for about thirty minutes. In the beginning the redhead seemed to enjoy the procedure at least a bit and she also might had relived one of even more orgasms - but by now her cunt began getting sore and it began to be a more and more painful experience for her. Fifteen to twenty more minutes and her master will change the orifice and let the machine also extend her asshole for another thirty to fourty minutes before he will continue her regular training.
I had come to the concert alone, so when I felt a hand groping my ass, I wondered vaguely who it might be but didn’t think much of it. The hand slowly pulled my dress up, massaging my ass before working down towards my holes, my slit already dripping from the attention he had been giving my ass. I shuddered briefly as I felt him slip a finger into my asshole, slowly moving in and out.
As he widened my hole, adding a second finger, it was all I could do to keep from acknowledging his ministrations—in my cum-addled brain, I stupidly thought that maybe he thought I hadn’t noticed yet, even though I couldn’t help but let out a whimper as he pulled his fingers out.
I didn’t have to worry, though, because the next thing I felt was his hard cock pressing up against my hole. For the next 10 minutes, he drove his cock in and out of my asshole while I pretended not to notice.
When he pulled out, I had just enough time to feel his cum start to trail down my leg before I felt the next cock poised and ready to push inside my ass.
This is why you have to treat them like dogs. Look at this stupid animal. This is hilarious to watch.
This time, the customers cock slid into her asshole without too much pain or problems. It seems that she already got used to her current task, this would make it much easier for her to serve the requested number of clients per day.