This story is set in Arth-Keros, a world of high-fantasy female degradation. More information on Arth-Keros is available to ATR paid members! (Click here to view memberships.)
Aylee’s family came to visit her at the end of her third month of apprenticeship as an Alchemist-Slave. She had initially been looking forward to this meeting, but her joy turned to humiliation and horror when she found out the circumstances of this visit.
“You will be nude, so your family can assess the changes we have wrought to your body,” said Aylee’s instructor, Master Klax. He gestured vaguely at Aylee’s alchemically-induced swollen udders, which she was still ashamed of even months after creating them. “And you will be gagged, so that you cannot reveal the secrets of the guild to outsiders.”
And so Aylee found herself standing naked with a ball-gag stuffed in her mouth as her father, mother and sister Hana filed into the room she shared with Klax.
She recoiled from the immediate look of disgust on the face of all three of them. It was clear from their expressions that others saw her as exactly the kind of disgusting big-uddered animal that she feared.
“Take a good look, Hana,” said her father, addressing Aylee’s pretty blonde sister. “When you turn 18, you’ll be apprenticed to the guild as well.”
Hana’s face filled with fear and revulsion. “Must I?” she said. “Father?”
“You’ll serve the whole nation, honey,” said Aylee’s father. “Now, why don’t you go have a drink from your sister’s udders? They say imbued milk is good for you.”
And as Hana tentatively approached Aylee, and then lowered her mouth to her sister’s tit and began to suck milk from it, Aylee remembered her visit to the Great Battery, where her father had urged her to rape one of the battery girls, and realised her father now saw her as exactly the same kind of sub-human sex object as that girl. She wept, silently, as her sister sucked the milk out of her nipple, and tried to pretend that the stimulation in her tits wasn’t making her wet.
I am not getting aroused from my own sister’s mouth, she told herself. I simply am not.
But she was, and soon her whole family could see her cunt lips swelling, parting, revealing her sopping wet fuckhole.
She thought about her sister joining her as an alchemist-slave. She thought of her sister’s pretty petite tits swelling up into disgusting fuckmelons like Aylee’s. She thought of her sister suckling milk from her tits every day – or other juices, from other holes.
Her sister would turn 18 in a year and a half. She could not allow her sister to experience the same degradation that she had gone through – was still going through. She had to find a way out of Vass, for herself, and her sister, before then.
She cried all day, and her master, in a generous mood, finally told her that she would be allowed to orgasm that night, to celebrate her special visit.
“But only if you’re thinking about the mouth of that pretty little sister of yours,” he added.
Aylee intended to turn down this offer, revolted. But her cunt wasn’t rational, and it was very wet, and it kept getting wetter as she tried to sleep, and finally she gave in, and masturbated herself to a powerful, shuddering orgasm, while picturing the feel of Hana’s lips against her tit, the feel of Hana’s tongue on her nipple, the soft cascade of Hana’s blonde hair brushing against her skin…
The next day, as Aylee spent her customary hour on the Harvesting Machine, Klax told her that today she would be making Bauer’s Tonic.
“What’s that?” asked Aylee. She was on all fours. A vacuum pump was exerting rhythmic suction on her nipples, painfully drawing milk forth from her bloated tits. A dildo was pumping in and out of her pussy, clever intakes on its surface sucking away her cunt juices to a sealed bottle. And Aylee was doing her best to piss through her arousal-swollen urethra and fill a third jar.
She hadn’t pissed without first being sexually aroused in three months. Now the very feeling of having a full bladder made her horny, and the sensation of pissing made her moan with lust.
“Bauer’s Tonic is a kind of mental reset button,” said Klax. “It’s made almost purely of your urine, with relatively minor modifications. It completely clears the female brain of any alterations made by gynaetic science, resetting it to its natural baseline whorishness.”
“Why do we need that?” asked Aylee. The last word was more of a sharp hiss, as she gasped at a particularly sharp suck upon her left tit.
“We’re going to be spending much of this month producing a vapour that makes women intensely stupid and biddable,” said Klax. “We pump it into the cages of the Battery bitches, and there is also a significant market for it among men seeking more obedient wives. It is a product of much value, but if you were accidentally exposed to it yourself, you would become far too cow-like to do the work I require of you. Thus, we prepare Bauer’s Tonic. A quick draught of tonic will fix you, should the worst occur.”
As he spoke, Klax unbelted his robes, and took out his cock from within. Aylee hadn’t seen his penis before. It was long, thin and semi-erect.
“I thought you weren’t going to rape me,” said Aylee nervously.
“I said I wasn’t going to rape you for no reason,” said Klax. “Unfortunately, Bauer’s Tonic tastes strongly of the urine it is made from. If you need to take some quickly, we can’t risk you gagging on it, or vomiting. You must become accustomed to the taste of urine, I am afraid. Open up.”
Aylee tried to resist, but Klax slapped her face until she opened her mouth, and then he stuffed his cock into it.
“Drink up, Aylee,” he said, and began to piss.
Shame and revulsion filled Aylee. Even in Vass, where women were routinely treated as property, drinking piss was a matter of humiliation. It wasn’t something that girls from middle-class or upper-class families had to do (or at least not something they admitted to). Piss-drinking was the province of poor girls and disgusting animals. Aylee had grown up on stories of how the First Woman had willingly drunk the piss of demons, and that was why all women were cursed to be sub-human forever after.
And now a man was pissing in *her* mouth. She squirmed with shame and self-loathing. Worse, she couldn’t believe that she was still sexually aroused. She wanted her cunt to dry up the second she tasted urine, but it kept traitorously juicing around the dildo that was raping her pussy, and she had to deal with the fact that she was sexually aroused as she drank the piss from Klax’s cock.
Klax was right, she did gag at first, as she tried to reconcile what was happening to her with her idea that she was a “good girl”, and as a result she made the mistake of spilling some of his piss rather than swallowing it. But she learned quickly, and was soon swallowing his golden fluid obediently. Later, when he released her from the Harvesting Machine, he made her lick up the fluid she had spilled, and then an hour later, he pissed down her throat for a second time. He repeated the ordeal at dinner.
By the time Aylee had synthesised her first dose of Bauer’s Tonic, early the next morning, she was, to use Klax’s words, “a good little piss-drinker”.
The stupidity vapour was called the Breath of Ulos, and it turned out to be made mostly from Aylee’s breast milk and cunt juices. “We are simply distilling and purifying the stupidity that is inherent in all women,” Klax explained, and, as Klax had forewarned her, she did little over the next month except synthesise batch after batch.
The vapour resembled a thick white fog, it was treacherously prone to escaping, and Aylee’s workspace was poorly ventilated, so she inhaled it on no less than six occasions over the work. Each time, she felt her higher brain functions just shutting off, her worries vanishing, until she could do little but sit on the floor, giggle, and play with her pussy. It felt both alarming, and embarrassingly good.
The first time, Klax had to rescue her, and feed her the Bauer’s Tonic, but afterwards Aylee could recognise the signs of exposure and reach the curative in time to treat herself. After each incident, she noticed the gas affected her less in future, and she realised that the tonic was building up a kind of resistance to the mind-altering effects with each subsequent dose.
She did take one brief break from the mass production. At the end of the first week of making the Breath of Ulos, Klax took her aside and taught her a new recipe.
“This is a Gurushic Philtre,” he told her. “A relatively recent invention, and one I have decided you will benefit from.”
“What does it do, Master?” asked Aylee.
“It modifies a woman’s digestive system to allow her to draw nutrients from human bodily fluids,” said Klax. “Essentially, it would allow you to live by swallowing nothing but cum and piss. When it was designed, it was thought it could substantially reduce the cost of feeding our female population, but unfortunately one of the ingredients is quite rare – a pain syrup from the Forest – and it honestly costs more to make the Gurushic Philtre than to feed women normally. However, I am prepared to invest in making a supply for you, as I feel it will make both our work more efficient.”
Klax may have been worried about the cost of the pain syrup, but for Aylee the catch was rather more distressing, because the pain syrup needed to be fed to *her*. It tasted vile, and immediately her breasts began to feel as if they were on fire, being bitten by a thousand venomous ants. It was vastly more potent than the potion Aylee had made for the girls in the Battery, and she began to cry almost at once.
“We need a very special breast milk for this potion,” said Klax. “It must be milk that is expressed while your breasts are in agony.” He had her kneel in front of a low bench, and lifted her huge melons so that they rested on the wood of the bench. He placed a shallow tray in front of them, and then took off his belt.
“I suggest you masturbate, Aylee,” he told her. “It will help. And you are allowed to orgasm. It will, if anything, improve the milk.”
She did as she was told.
He brought the belt down across her tits, and then she truly did begin to scream, and weep. The pain was excruciating. Every strike of the belt made milk squirt from her nipples into the tray, and brought fresh agony to her titfflesh.
She orgasmed, and orgasmed again, and again.
He kept beating her until no more milk came from her udders, and by that point they were bruised a dark purple, and Aylee’s mind had retreated so far she could think of nothing but pain and orgasms.
It was normal to orgasm while crying, she thought. It was normal for the best orgasm of her life to come from abuse. It was normal to be desperately horny while her breasts were being whipped.
Afterwards, he directed her in crafting the Gurushic Philtre, with her still crying as she did it. She made enough to last for months, and then took her first dose.
“Good girl,” said Klax, and pushed her down, and pissed in her mouth.
After that, he stopped urinating anywhere except into Aylee, and he no longer fed Aylee normal human meals. And, as he had promised, that turned out to be more than enough for Aylee to live on.
Late that night, after he had relieved himself into her mouth, Aylee rose from her knees to find Klax staring at a map of the Inner Kingdoms.
“The nation of Orhanos has placed an order for Breath of Ulos,” Klax mused. “And the Potentate has authorised the sale. It represents a source of considerable new wealth for the guild.”
As a woman, Aylee had rarely been given opportunities to see maps of the world around Vass. “What is that place?” she asked, pointing at land just to the west of Vass.
“The Howling Hills,” said Klax. “A blasted, empty place. Even were it devoid of minerals and worthless as farmland, it borders on the Goblin Kingdom of Nibrahig, who are best avoided.”
“And there?” asked Aylee, pointing even further west.
Klax’s mouth twisted into a sneer. “Maratar,” he said. “The Abomination. A lawless place of unleashed women who believe themselves to be free. The Three Bitch Queens purport to rule there, and allow no men. Someday we will have the time and focus to collar the lot of them and teach them their true place.”
Aylee’s eyes widened. Could it be true? A land where women were *free*? A land where they *ruled*? She had never dared to contemplate such a thing before. She pictured a life where she could decide for herself whether she wore clothes or not. A life where she had a say over who put their cocks in her mouth. A life where she could choose not to be an alchemist-slave.
The thought of escaping Vass had been on her mind every day of the past month. She was still determined to break out of her bondage, flee the city, and take her sister Hana with her.
And now, she knew where she was going….