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Esme had been many things, back when her country had been independent – a scientist; a feminist; a brunette; flat-chested. But when the Federation of Yorv invaded, she had been forced to go into hiding, lest the Federation put her research to evil uses.
Her contacts helped her get a new identity, and a new look. She wasn’t entirely happy with her new platinum blonde hair and suddenly-huge plastic tits, but she agreed that she certainly looked nothing like her old life. And men who stared at her boobs were less likely to recognise her face.
But as the months passed, and the Federation occupation continued, Esme got restless. Hiding felt cowardly. She wanted to fight. And so she slowly made contact with rebel cells, and used her scientific knowledge to help them make explosives and weapons, watching in satisfied joy as her bombs devastated office buildings full of Yorvian collaborators.
Eventually, though, her luck ran out, and her cell was raided by Yorvian troopers. The common thugs who wrestled her to the ground and put her into cuffs may not have recognised her, but their leader, the saturnine Commandant Thorn, was more perceptive, as she learned some hours later when she found herself strapped to an uncomfortable black chair, bright interrogation lights shining in her face.
“Dr Esme,” said the deep voice of the Commandant genially, as he walked slowly around her chair, just out of her view, his boots clicking on the stone floor. “How lovely to see you again. And I see you’ve made some… improvements.”
He snapped his fingers, and a guard stepped forward and grabbed violently at Esme’s shirt. It tore, exposing her large new tits to the Commandant’s gaze. She blushed.
“You’re mistaken,” said Esme bravely. “I don’t know who this Dr Esme is. I’m just a loyal Yorvian. I’ve done nothing wrong.”
Commandant Thorn chuckled, and stepped into the light. He was holding an elegant glass syringe of some green liquid in one gloved hand. With no particular hurry, he stepped forward, and took one of Esme’s breasts in his left hand.
“Stop that,” said Esme. “I have rights as a prisoner.”
Thorn ignored her, lifting her breast, weighing it in his hand. He moved his thumb across her nipple lightly, and she gasped involuntarily.
“You have no rights,” Thorn said, as if speaking to himself. “As a prisoner, or as a woman.” And then, without further warning, he pushed the syringe into her breast, and injected the green liquid.
She wailed with pain and shock and struggled futilely in the chair. “What was that?” she demanded. “A truth serum?”
Thorn chuckled again. “There is no such thing as a truth serum, Dr Esme. Surely you know that. Now, why don’t you tell us about your research, back before this land was repatriated to the Federation?”
“Never,” spat Esme. She felt strange. There was a tingle in her pussy, and she realised her nipples had become hard.
“Never is a very long time,” said Thorn. “Surely you want to leave this chair? You will want a hot dinner, clean clothes. A chance to relieve the pressure in your bladder without the humiliation of doing so in front of me. You will talk eventually. Why not do it now?”
Esme blushed. She *did* want those things. And she wished Thorn hadn’t called attention to her bladder.
“We know what you were working on, you know,” said Thorn. “You were working on a weakness unique to the brains of women. A susceptibility to certain subsonic frequencies, that could be used to implant ideas…”
“I was working to cure breast cancer!” said Esme. “We found some genetic markers unique to women, and we traced them back to see if it was related to cancer, but discovered a neurological difference instead. All we were interested in was understanding that difference.”
“Ah, but we know the difference in women,” said Thorn. He gestured to the guard, and the guard produced a pair of shears, stepped forward, and cut away Esme’s pants and panties, leaving her nude from the waist down. Esme struggled, but could do nothing to stop him. Then the guard produced a role of duct tape, pried her legs apart, and taped each one to a chair leg, preventing her from closing her legs or covering her now-bare pussy.
Thorn moved towards Esme, and put his leather-booted foot on the chair between her legs. The toe pushed into Esme’s spread cunt. She made a low moan of despair.
“The man is as a god,” said Thorn, pushing his toe deeper into Esme’s pussy. “While the female is halfway between a cow and a dog. You make milk, you accept things into your breeding tunnel, and you produce babies. At some point you were tricked into thinking you should stand on two feet, instead of crawl like the animal you are, but the Federation will soon fix that.”
Esme looked Thorn in the eye and spat.
Thorn, however, raised his hand, and her saliva spattered across his glove. He smiled, and wiped his spit-covered glove across her face. His thumb pushed against her mouth forcefully and, faced with the choice of accepting it or having bruised lips, Esme opened her mouth and allowed the thumb to penetrate her. She looked up at Thorn with hate-filled eyes.
Thorn sighed. “Whatever you intended with your research, Dr Esme, it can be used to control the minds of women. With your help, we can broadcast a signal that will make every woman in this country into an eager collaborator for Yorv and a willing breeding receptacle for its soldiers.”
“You can’t just enslave women, you pig,” cried Esme.
“Ah, but women are already enslaved,” said Thorn. He stepped out of the light, and returned with a humming plastic device. He bent forward and pushed it against Esme’s pussy, and then taped it into place on the chair. Esme gasped as it vibrated maddeningly against her clitoris. She was suddenly aware that her cunt was wet – so wet that it was drooling onto the chair, her sex fluids puddling between her legs. She blushed bright crimson.
Thorn grinned. “Women are enslaved… by their cunts,” he said. “And it is your cunt that will betray you. The drug I injected you with is an aphrodisiac. You will grow more aroused with each second.”
“And you’ll make me cum unless I talk?” asked Esme.
Thorn laughed loudly and honestly. “No,” he said. “We won’t let you cum unless you *do* talk. An orgasm will be your reward for collaboration, Dr Esme.” He held up a small black device, and pressed a button on it.
Abruptly the vibrator against her pussy stopped. Entirely without thinking, Esme whimpered, and tried to buck her hips against it, before realising what she was doing and flooding with shame.
“Let’s give you a little example,” said Thorn. “Something easy. If you tell us how many men you have fucked in your life, I will turn the vibrator back on. I will also instruct the guard to whip your new plastic breasts ten times with his belt. And if you do not speak – well, we will just wait. How is your bladder feeling?”
Esme stared at him. He surely didn’t expect her to *want* her breasts whipped with a belt, let alone the humiliation of the vibrator. Only… her nipples were so hard… and her cunt was so wet… and it was so hard to think when her cunt was so wet…
“It’s not like you won’t just do what you want anyway,” said Esme, “so if you want to know, I’ve had sex with six men and one woman.”
“Good girl,” said Thorn. The vibrator came back on, and Esme gasped – and then screamed, as the guard brought his belt down on her large tits. Ten lashes, each excruciatingly painful – but on the eighth one, the vibrator stopped.
“Why did you stop it?” she gasped, when the belting was done. Her tits were on fire with pain, and she thought she could see welts rising on them. She wanted the vibrator back on. It had felt so good.
“Why, you were about to orgasm,” said Thorn. “Without permission. Naughty, naughty.”
“What?” exclaimed Esme. “Of course I wasn’t. You were torturing my breasts – how could I orgasm?” Except she realised that there *had* been a very confused sensation in her cunt, and she wanted that vibrator back so much….
“Next question,” said Thorn. “What’s the most humiliating sexual experience you’ve ever had? When you answer, I’ll slap you in the face, spit on you, and then turn on the vibrator while you get another ten belts across your breasts.”
She thought about not answering – but not answering meant no vibrator. Being dishonest didn’t occur to her. And what did it matter if she shared this information? It wouldn’t actually help the Federation.
“I had a boyfriend who had been invited to dinner to meet my family,” Esme said. “Before the dinner, he made me masturbate him until he came all over my tits. He didn’t let me wash it off, and made me dress with no underwear, so I was sitting at dinner with my family with my cunt bare under my skirt and his cum on my breasts. And every half hour he made me go to the toilet and masturbate. I was so humiliated.”
“I can imagine,” said Thorn. “And did you dump him, for this humiliation?”
Esme blushed. “Eventually. Six months later.” She remembered the sex they had had after her humiliation. She remembered it because of how many times she had cum.
Thorn laughed, then slapped her hard across the face, and spat on her. She gasped, and then moaned as the vibrator came back on. The guard stepped up to her with his belt, and she screamed as it came down with vicious accuracy across the part of her tit that was already showing a welt.
This time she only lasted five strokes before Thorn had to turn off the vibrator again.
“Please,” Esme whimpered. “Turn the vibrator back on. I won’t cum, I promise.”
“The promises of a woman are as worthless as the promises of a cow,” said Thorn. “But if you tell me where to find your research notes, I will turn it on, and instruct the guard to beat your tits until you orgasm.”
“No,” moaned Esme. “I can’t enslave every woman in the country just because I want to cum.” She blushed as she had admitted she wanted to cum.
“Oh, sweet, silly cow,” said Thorn, stroking her face with his gloved hand. “Of course you can. Women don’t matter. Only your cunt matters. Isn’t that right?”
“I’ll tell you about the girl I fucked,” babbled Esme. “I only fucked her because it felt so dirty and humiliating. I blushed so hard when she kissed me in public that I almost orgasmed right there in the street. She wouldn’t let me cum until I said I was a lesbian, but when I said it, just saying the word made me orgasm.”
Thorn grabbed her tit and squeezed it, hard. Esme gasped and moaned.
“Yes,” she begged. “Harder.”
“That’s not what I want to hear, Dr Esme,” said Thorn. “Where are your notes? Tell me how to make every woman you know realise what a stupid cow she really is…”
Esme started to cry. Her cunt just kept getting wetter and wetter and she couldn’t really think about anything except how much she needed to cum. She just needed to cum. After she had an orgasm, her brain would clear, and she could think of a way to fix this. Afterwards…
“They’re in the University of Lem computer system,” she whispered, defeated. “Login as Dr Esme at University of Lem. Password is… Esme is a whore. All one word, lowercase.” She had never thought she would need to tell anyone that password, or explain the warm feeling she got in her pussy whenever she typed it.
Thorn laughed, and turned the vibrator back on. The guard stepped forward with his belt.
“Thank you, Dr Esme,” said Thorn. “And yes, we will turn you into a servile obedient breeding cow like all your fellow women. But I think, as a special gift, I will leave you with the awareness of what you have done, and who exactly is to thank for the condition that you and your fellow sluts will find yourselves in….”
She orgasmed on the first blow to her tits – and the second, and the third…..
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