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The sun was setting over Persephone Nine. Vice looked around at his tiny new kingdom, and was satisfied.
The camp was now ringed by a small, low fence, with two makeshift gates. It was made partly of wire, and partly of metal sheeting, and while it would not hold out a concerted attack, Vice thought that it would be enough to deter small wildlife, and give them some warning of the approach of bigger or more determined visitors.
The storage shed had also been completed – an enclosed, roofed area to store the more delicate or perishable supplies they had retrieved from their crashed starship. It was strong enough that Vice thought it might also double as a makeshift prison, if the need arose – but of course, the compliance collars should make that unnecessary.
But the thing he was most pleased with was his harem.
He had made Telea and Amy build a campfire on the beach, and now all four girls were sitting around it nude. Amy and Victoria hadn’t wanted to undress for him, of course, but with the help of Telea and Rospar he had forced the two spoiled bitches out of their clothes. Victoria’s dress had ripped in the process – it was now consigned to the “spare rags” pile, and Victoria was currently dealing with the idea that she literally had no clothes to wear even if she was allowed to.
The fury and humiliation of the women as they were forcibly undressed was arousing and enjoyable to Vice, but even better had been their reactions once they were nude. Both women had immediately tried to cover their tits and cunt with their hands – and been shocked repeatedly by their compliance collar for doing so.
Vice had simply sat, smirking, his cock growing hard, and stared pointedly at their breasts and fuckholes, as they jerked and swore with pain, until they eventually, blushingly, learned to leave their hands at their sides and let him look.
He didn’t make it easy on them, of course. He took pleasure in commenting on their bodies. “Wow, those udders are huge, Victoria,” he said. “Are you sure you’re a woman and not a cow?”
“Fuck you!” Victoria had spat – and then jumped, squealing. Vice had decided he’d had enough disrespect from the women, and had had Rospar program the collars to shock the women if they swore. He’d been pleased to discover the programming in the collars was quite intelligent, and could detect swearing from context, volume and intonation, rather than just consulting a dictionary of “swear words”. So the women couldn’t say “fuck you” – but they could say “fuck me hard”, if they chose to.
Bratty little pop-star Amy had received his attention, too. “I’m pleased that your cunt is hairless, Kisses,” he told her. “It shows initiative. It shows that you’re keen to make men happy. Was there a special boy you had your hair removed for?”
Amy just blushed and avoided his gaze. She clearly wanted to swear too, but she had learned from Victoria’s example.
He had told Telea to stare at the girls’ tits and fuckholes too, to help them understand their situation sooner. They simply weren’t in control of who looked at their bodies. Telea had blushed at the instruction, but complied with vigour, even throwing out a few of her own mocking comments – “Isn’t it exhausting, being such a big-titted bitch, Victoria?” – and Vice was fairly sure that he hadn’t commanded the pretty little theoretical-lesbian to stare at the women so much as given her permission.
Shortly after stripping the women nude, he had had Telea give all four girls a drink of the lake water. He made no mention of its special properties to the new girls. They would find out eventually, but he liked the idea that in the short-term they would think what was about to happen to them was all their own fault.
Laurel clearly wanted to refuse the water. She glared daggers at Vice as Telea offered her the cup. But although her leg was healing quickly, she still wasn’t self-sufficient, and she hadn’t had a drink since morning, so she obligingly drank down the offered liquid.
It only took the new girls about an hour to try and masturbate. They were surreptitious about it, but he knew what they had done when Victoria, who was sitting across the encampment with her back to him, suddenly squealed and jumped to her feet.
Vice smiled, and said nothing. It wasn’t long before Amy squealed too, and then Victoria squeaked, and swore, and then squeaked again as the collar shocked her for swearing.
They couldn’t touch their own pussies. The collar wouldn’t let them. They were going to get wetter and wetter, and hornier and hornier, and there was nothing they could do about it. And without knowing what was in the water, they were almost certainly furiously ashamed at their own sluttiness, and wondering why they were being such whores who were getting so wet for no reason.
Now they were all gathered around the campfire, each of them blushing, nude, wet-cunted. He had distributed a share of rations to each of the girls, allowing them to eat it off a plate, using their hands – for now – and as they finished their meals, he took out the book that Female Pig had given him earlier in the day.
“What’s that?” asked Laurel, curious.
“The Way of Galliard,” said Vice, turning the cover to show the girls. “We had a visit from one of the Galliard women today – a very well-behaved girl. She let us know that I was right. We are being watched by the Galliard, and judged, and our survival is entirely dependent upon you girls being good little submissives and not offending them in any way.”
Telea looked afraid at this. Laurel turned her mouth in an unhappy sneer. Victoria and Amy were too busy sulking to react to much of anything.
“And what’s the book for?” asked Laurel.
“It’s a Galliard religious text, in our language,” said Vice. “It’s fascinating, from what I’ve seen. It sets out the Galliard attitude to women. Our visitor was very clear that they expect you girls to receive a sermon from it every night, so I thought I’d start now.” He passed the book to pretty dark-haired Telea. “Telea, would you open the book to a random sermon and read it aloud, please?”
Telea took the book, surprised, and flipped it open. Her face blushed. “These are…”
“Telea, I have been very clear about the way that the Galliard see women,” said Vice. “You shouldn’t be surprised at the contents of their religious book. I know it’s scandalous and embarrassing, but our lives are literally on the line. You’re a proud daughter of New Sappha, and a graduate of the Academy. I think you can take a little embarrassment to save all our lives, can’t you?”
Telea blushed again, and scanned down the page. She took a deep breath, composing herself.
“It says the sermon must be performed under the guidance of a ‘dominant male’,” she said.
“I’m the Captain,” said Vice. “I think I qualify.”
“And that his cock must be exposed for the females to worship,” Telea continued, her blush deepening. “It says it’s a sin for a woman to take her eyes from it, except as the man so commands.”
“I see,” said Vice. He loosened his pants, unzipped his fly, and exposed his cock – already erect, in anticipation of what was coming. “You heard the lady,” he told the other women. “Eyes on me.”
“Fuck you,” said Amy, averting her eyes from his cock. He gave her a shock for her trouble – and another, and a third, until she finally turned to stare at his dick. Her face was still flushed, and he knew her cunt was still wet. He liked the idea of her fixating on his phallus during her arousal.
It was actually not difficult to keep the girls staring at his cock, once they started. The bacteria in the water the girls had drunk was telling their bodies that they needed sperm in their bellies. Consciously or otherwise, they knew that their bodies were craving his seed.
“Telea, you have permission to look away, for the purpose of reading and administering the sermon,” said Vice, once the girls were all staring.
“Thank you, sir,” said Telea. She turned back to the book.
“The female is not a human,” Telea began, reading from the page. “She does not think as humans do, nor does she have the drive and sentience of a human. She is an animal, a kind of parasite, feeding on the sperm of the male.”
“This is ridiculous!” interrupted Laurel. “It’s offensive! I’m not listening to this!”
“She’s right,” said Victoria. “I can’t believe you’re making us listen to this. Your depravity has reached a new low, Vice.”
Vice took a deep breath. He considered shocking both girls, but had a better idea. “Telea,” he said. “Slap Laurel across the face. Then do the same for Victoria.”
“What?” asked Telea.
“You heard me,” said Vice. “They’re disrupting the sermon and endangering us all. I’m ordering you to discipline them.”
Telea looked at the other women, then back at him. “But you could just… they’re wearing collars….”
He shocked Telea. She squealed, and clutched at her neck.
“Telea, you women shouldn’t be obeying because I tell you to. You should be obeying because it’s the right thing to do. It keeps us all alive.” He shook his head sadly. “You can’t rely on me to discipline you every time you get it wrong. I need this crew to help each other to obey. Now, I’ve given you a direct order to slap these two difficult sluts. Are you going to obey, or do you want to all die at Galliard hands?”
Telea looked around helplessly.
“Don’t do it, Telea!” said Laurel, fearfully. Her leg still didn’t permit her to move away or fight back.
Victoria, in rather better condition, said, “Screw this cheap joke of a captain, Telea. We don’t have to obey him.”
Telea looked back at Vice, at his shock-controller, and at his cock.
Vice just waited.
Slowly, Telea got up, walked across to Laurel, and slapped her across the face, hard. Laurel tried to raise her hands to defend herself, but her collar wouldn’t let her, instead giving her another hard shock.
“Laurel, we have to obey Captain Vice,” said Telea. “He’s got our best interests at heart, really. You need to see that.”
“Fuck you, you gender-betraying bitch,” spat Laurel.
Her collar shocked her for swearing. Then, without being prompted, Telea slapped Laurel again. Tears welled in Laurel’s eyes, and she fell silent.
Then Telea walked over to Victoria. Victoria, too, tried to defend herself, and it took her three shocks to accept that she couldn’t, and let her hands fall to her sides. Telea just waited until Victoria stopped trying, and then, deliberately, slapped her across the face.
“And you need to stop being a cunt,” she said to Victoria. “I saved you from the passenger cryo, and you haven’t been grateful to me or to the captain for even a second. You’re lucky we don’t leave you out in the woods for the Galliard to rape.”
Victoria’s face reddened with fury, but she said nothing.
“Good girl,” said Vice to Telea, softly, and was pleased to see Telea blush with embarrassed pleasure at the compliment.
Telea resumed her sermon.
“A female does not think with her brain. She thinks with her cunt, and with her udders. Her perception that she has an identity or thoughts outside of her sexual organs is an illusion, and she must be corrected with rape and with pain when such a thought occurs to her. The sensitivity of her udders and her cunt to pain is an evolutionary adaptation to allow her to be easily corrected. She is designed to be in pain. A female who is not in pain or being fucked is a worthless female.”
Telea paused. “And then there’s a bit that all the women say together,” she said. “Repeat after me. I am a parasite that feeds on sperm.”
The other girls looked horrified. They were all silent.
Telea looked at Vice. Vice looked back at Telea.
Telea stood, and walked over to Amy, and slapped her across the face. Amy wailed. “Say it,” said Telea.
“I am a parasite that feeds on sperm,” Amy spat, her face red where she had been slapped.
Telea walked to Victoria, and raised her hand.
“I am a parasite that feeds on sperm,” Victoria said, quickly.
Telea slapped her anyway. “Please don’t make me have to punish you,” she said. “I hate it. Just do as you’re told, please.”
“I am a parasite that feeds on sperm,” Laurel said, before Telea could move on, and Telea let her go without a further slap.
“Good girl,” said Telea, echoing Vice earlier. She sat down again.
“Repeat after me,” she said. “I think with my cunt and my udders.”
“I think with my cunt and my udders,” chorused the girls.
“My udders deserve to be in pain,” said Telea.
“My udders deserve to be in pain,” chorused the girls.
“Our male is our god,” said Telea.
“Our male is our god,” said the blushing girls, staring at Vice’s cock.
“And then it says…” – Telea paused, before continuing – “that we choose one of the girls present for the male to rape.”
The eyes of the other girls widened. “What?” said Victoria, incredulous.
Laurel was a faster thinker than any of the other girls present. “Amy,” she said, quickly.
Amy didn’t catch on fast enough. “What do you mean, Amy?” she asked.
“Amy,” said Victoria, also understanding.
Telea looked at Amy, and Vice could see the lust shining in the pretty girl’s eyes. “Yes, Amy,” she said. “It’s decided.”
“What’s decided?” said Amy. “What do you mean?”
“This is for me?” asked Vice, looking at Telea.
“Yes, sir,” said Telea. “You use her, and we watch.”
Amy worked it out then, and stood, and tried to run, but Vice didn’t even need the compliance collar to catch her. He was faster, fitter, and he had tackled her to the ground before she even got four steps. She fell tits-downward into the sand of the beach, and when she arced her back upwards to try and throw Vice off her, it was the perfect chance for him to slip his cock into her tight, wet cunt.
“No!” she screamed. “No! Get off me!”
He wanted her to scream. He wanted her to scream loud enough for the Galliard to hear. And anyway, even as her mouth said “no”, her wet cunt was saying “yes”. He began to thrust into her rhythmically.
He had never raped the cunt of an unwilling woman before, but he immediately knew that he liked it. Her struggles felt amazing against his dick, and knowing that she didn’t want it but it was happening anyway made him feel powerful, sexy, in control. He raped her enthusiastically, energetically.
The other girls were clustered around, watching. They didn’t know what to do. Their minds were horrified, but their cunts were wet.
“Rospar!” called out Vice. “Alter the compliance collars. Allow the girls the freedom to touch their pussies for the next 30 minutes!”
“Yes, captain,” replied the robot. A green light flashed on each collar.
The girls were clearly repulsed by what was happening, but they didn’t move away. It took him a minute to understand why. They were still trying to see his cock. They *couldn’t* look away. They were forced to watch him raping Amy.
Amy cried and sobbed, but he felt her orgasm against his cock as the lake water took slutty control of her, and then orgasm again.
And around him, the other girls couldn’t help themselves. One by one, they lowered their hands to their own cunts, and began to rub. The bacteria-tainted water in their system overpowered their morality. Just as the sermon had said, they thought with their cunts, and masturbated as they watched their captain rape a woman.
It didn’t take him long to cum inside of Amy. Raping her just felt too good. And as he shuddered and spilled his seed into her womb, the other girls each found their own orgasms.
But he wasn’t quite done yet. He pulled out, and turned her over, spreading her pussy to the other girls. They could all see his cum leaking out of her abused fuckhole.
“Let’s end the sermon the right way, girls,” he said. “And I’m not going to force you to do this. This is entirely up to you. But if any of you want to take communion from Amy’s pussy, now is your chance.”
He watched the horror and disgust pass over their faces, and then watched them realise that they were going to do it anyway. The bacteria needed cum. Their whole bodies were telling them they were going to do this.
Telea was first, as he knew she would be. She knelt between Amy’s legs, leaned down, and ran her tongue over Amy’s cunt, lapping up a long drooling string of Vice’s sperm. Then she stepped away, and let Victoria do the same.
The look of fury and humiliation on Victoria’s face as she licked at Amy’s freshly-raped cunt was one that Vice would cherish forever.
And finally Laurel, who had to be helped into position because of her injured leg. As the last of the girls, the remainders were all hers, and she licked not just once, but again and again, digging her tongue into Amy’s snatch to root out the last traces of Vice’s sperm. She was still masturbating as she did it, humiliated but unable to help herself, and when Amy finally orgasmed against Laurel’s face, Vice thought the expression of pure degradation Laurel wore was just about the most beautiful thing he had seen.
But not as beautiful as the expressions they would wear tomorrow, Vice thought. Because each of these girls were now going to spend the night rationalising what had just happened, and excusing themselves for participating in the gang-rape of Amy. They were going to tell themselves that it was necessary, that Amy had deserved it, that it hadn’t been that bad and Amy had just been a cry-baby. And by the time they sat down for their sermon tomorrow night, each one of those girls was going to genuinely believe that it was okay for Vice to rape one of them each night.
Vice was increasingly sure that he was going to like living on Persephone Nine – like it a great deal, in fact….
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