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.)
It took a year for Aylee to put her escape plan together, and at first she simply didn’t have the tools she needed to achieve it.
She knew what she wanted to do. She would escape the tower of the Watchful Guild of Alchemists and go to her parents’ house. There, she would wake her younger sister Hana in the middle of the night. (Hana was due to be apprenticed to the Guild within the year, and Aylee had no intention of leaving her sister to the same fate that had been visited on Aylee.) Then the two of them would flee Vass and head west across the Howling Hills to the land of Maratar, called “the Abomination” by the patriarchal rulers of Vass because in Maratar it was free women who held the power.
But it was easier thought than done. Escaping the tower – and the city – were no small feat, as the tower entrances were well guarded, and Aylee was supervised on the few occasions that she went outside its confines. And then there was the matter of crossing the Howling Hills – which would require food, supplies, and possibly mounts.
In the meantime, Aylee continued her work creating the Breath of Ulos, which was to be sold in large volumes to the militaristic nation of Orhanos for use in sedating both their own women, and the women of their enemies.
Three months into the year, the Guild received an ambassador from Orhanos. His name was General Dhalg, and he was tall, barrel-chested, and sported a thick salt-and-pepper beard. He was dressed in the red-and-black military uniform of his nation, and his epaulettes and prodigious array of medals spoke of his rank and station. He arrived in a carriage made of some dark, beautiful wood, drawn by red-black stallions, and the alchemists of the Guild fell over themselves to win his favour from the moment he first entered the tower.
He was accompanied by a girl. She, too, wore a military-style uniform, although hers was a little different. It was tighter, less decorated – and it had cut-out panels across the chest and groin that completely exposed the girl’s shaven pussy and moderately-sized breasts. Her body was thin and fit, and her long hair was a dirty honey-blonde.
“This is Cunt Tilly,” said General Dhalg, by way of introducing the girl, after he had been shown to Master Klax’s chambers. “She has been detached from her usual Bitch Squad to serve as my handmaid for this journey.”
“An honour, I am sure,” said Master Klax.
Dhlag grunted. “Too much of an honour, especially for a bitch with such inadequate tits. Barely enough to hold onto while you’re raping her.”
Klax’s eyes brightened, as he saw an opportunity to please his guest. “We have many techniques in Vass to enhance an inadequate woman. Aylee here had udders no bigger than Cunt Tilly when she first started with me, but through modern science she has been made far more acceptable.”
Aylee at this point was on all fours in a corner, strapped into a milking machine. She was trying to stay focused and attentive on the important guests while a dildo pumped mechanically in and out of her twat and the vacuum cups sucked her milk painfully from her udders, but it was hard.
Dhalg looked at Aylee with interest. “I expect to be staying here for a fortnight. You could have the cunt upgraded in this time?”
“Yes, yes,” said Klax. “In fact, Aylee can do it herself. With your permission, I will assign her to your entourage for the duration of your stay. She is becoming quite skilled in alchemy, for a woman, and she has been modified to live on a diet of piss and cum, so she will be no additional trouble to provide for. She can administer the breast upgrade to your cunt, and look after her for the few days of debilitating pain that follow.”
The cunt in question paled in fear at the mention of the pain, and looked at her General with wide eyes, but no one in the room paid her any attention.
“Now,” said the General, “tell me of the progress of this pacification gas you’re selling us.”
“The Breath of Ulos is almost complete,” replied Klax. “The manual production of the gas by Alchemist-Slave Aylee is finished, and all that remains is a process of quality assurance and condensing that I must undertake myself. The complete shipment will be ready to leave with you at the conclusion of your stay.”
Dhalg chuckled. “Excellent. Orhanos has a surplus of female prisoners of war – too treacherous and disobedient to perform many forms of useful work within the nation – and the Hierarchy plans to use this gas to convert them to docile, brainless cattle, suitable for manual labour, milking, and suchlike.”
Klax laughed in appreciation, an offered Dhalg a drink of local wine, and together they discussed the fine details of transferring the Breath of Ulos into Dhalg’s custody.
As Klax had suggested, Aylee was placed under the temporary charge of General Dhalg, and when Dhalg and Tilly left the tower to retire to their quarters at the Orhanian Embassy, Aylee was taken with them. She felt nervous, being under the control of a man she didn’t know. The Orhanians had a reputation for cruelty to their women. But she had no choice in the matter.
The Orhanian Embassy was a lavish, sprawling building near the centre of the city, constructed of white stone and surrounded by well-kept gardens and a high fortified wall. The regular embassy staff occupied the west wing, while visiting dignitaries such as Dhalg were given rooms in the east wing.
At the rear of the building was an extensive complex comprising rows of wire dog cages, and it was here that the Orhanian women were kept. Dhalg pointed these out to Aylee, and told her she would be sharing a cage with Cunt Tilly, but that first he had business for her in his personal quarters.
The “personal quarters” turned out to be a huge room, capable of hosting a party of 30 or more, with a huge bed in the centre of the room. When they entered, Dhalg had Aylee – still naked but for her collar, as was her normal style of dress – kneel on a soft fur rug, and he took out his cock from his pants – it was large and thick – and placed it in her mouth.
“Drink,” he commanded, and began to piss. Aylee was by now well-accustomed to drinking urine – it was her primary source of nutrition, since the changes Klax had wrought on her – and she swallowed willingly and eagerly.
When he was done, Dhalg wiped his cock clean on her cheek, then pointed at Cunt Tilly. “Now her,” he said.
Aylee blushed. She had never drunk another woman’s piss before. In fact, she had never touched another woman’s cunt, with any part of her body, let alone her mouth. But Tilly was already moving her legs apart, to stand bow-legged, and so Aylee obediently crawled over and tentatively put her mouth over the girl’s pussy.
Tilly tasted sweet – like strawberries. Aylee dimly remembered Master Klax saying that there were certain potions that improved the taste of a woman’s cunt, and that many men ordered them to be used on women they intended to perform oral sex on. She guessed that such a potion may have been used on Tilly at some time, and she was grateful for it now.
It felt strange, feeling the puffy, wet curve of Tilly’s labia against her mouth. Strange, and erotic. Aylee’s cunt began to throb, and she felt her nipples stiffen. The memory of her own sister suckling at her nipples returned to her, and she became wetter still.
Then Tilly began to piss, and Aylee focused on swallowing. Instinctively, she stuck out her tongue, exploring Tilly’s fuckhole, her urethra, and lightly flicking her clit, and when she did, Tilly groaned, and grabbed at Aylee’s hair with her hands, forcing Aylee’s head hard against her cunt, humping Aylee’s face like an animal, until her bladder was empty and Aylee had drunk every last drop.
“That’s enough, cunt,” said Dhalg sharply when she was done. “I haven’t given you permission to cum.”
Tilly released Aylee, and stepped back regretfully.
Then Dhalg was behind Aylee, grabbing her hair, pulling her to her feet painfully. Aylee tried her best to submit, but couldn’t keep up as Dhalg dragged her across the room, and then threw her down on the bed.
“Now let’s see how the women of Vass fuck,” he growled, and before Aylee knew what was happening, he was forcing her legs apart and shoving his cock into her pussy.
Over the last year, Aylee’s cunt had been penetrated many times, by a variety of objects, but this was the first time in her life she had ever had a man’s cock in it. Klax had been reluctant to rape her in the tower, for fear that her gynaetic energy might interfere with the sensitive devices that the Guild used. But Dhalg had no such worry, and now he began to energetically rape her as Aylee lay on the bed in shock.
She supposed she was losing her virginity, although she had been a sub-human sex object for more than a year already at that point. She had sucked cocks, masturbated animals, and been raped by machines. Yet somehow finally having her vagina violated by a man’s penis felt special.
It felt good, too. She was already wet, and as Dhalg pushed into it, it felt like something her body had been begging for all year, but which had been denied to her. She moaned – a slutty, animal sound. Then the moan became a squeal as Dhalg reached down and grabbed her large tits in each hand, squeezing and crushing them painfully. Milk squirted from her nipples into the palms of his hands, and ran back down over her boobs onto the sheets of the bed.
His grip was powerful, and the pain in her breasts was intense – but Aylee had been well-conditioned to associated tit pain with sexual pleasure, and the more Dhalg hurt her, the more it made her wetter and more eager.
“Cunt, come over here and keep this bitch quiet,” grunted Dhalg as he raped her. Tilly evidently knew what this meant, because she immediately came to the bed, climbed up on all fours near Aylee’s head, bent down, and began to kiss Aylee on the lips.
Aylee went wild. Partly it was the way that Tilly’s lips operated like a gag, suppressing her moans and squeals, controlling her mouth. Partly it was because kissing a girl felt so *slutty* – in a way that none of her degradation to that point had somehow felt. Partly it was because Tilly’s kiss reminded Aylee again of her sister Hana, and that secret, shameful arousal she had felt from having Hana drink her breast milk. And partly it was because Tilly’s kiss was *affectionate*. It was soft, and eager, and somehow *loving*, and Aylee had never had someone interact with her sexually in that way before. Tilly seemed to want to *kiss* her, not just *use* her, and that was a new and powerful feeling.
She kissed Tilly back eagerly – and then heard the General quietly say, “That’s right. Cum for me, bitch.”
She felt something click in her control collar, as the voice of a male gave her permission to orgasm – something she had not enjoyed since the collar was first placed on her – and then she felt herself doing exactly as she had been told – orgasming, again and again, against the General’s cock as it violated her twat. She squealed into Tilly’s mouth, and it just made the General crush her tits harder, which in turn made Aylee squeal more, until she lost herself in a haze of pain and sexual pleasure.
Finally, the General ejaculated inside her, and pulled out. “Clean her up,” he said to Tilly, and the Orhanian girl obediently moved to a position between Aylee’s legs, and began to lick the general’s sperm out of her. This, too, was gently and almost loving. Aylee had had a woman lick her cunt once before – on her first visit to the Battery, that her father had commemorated with a portrait – but back then, Aylee had been in control, raping an unwilling girl. This experience was entirely different. She was on her back, with her legs spread, and Tilly set the pace, gently licking and probing at Aylee’s snatch, working her tongue deep into Aylee’s fuckhole to extract as much of the general’s cum as possible.
Aylee had one, last orgasm from Tilly’s tongue, and it was the best of them all.
“You’re an acceptable fuck,” said the General. “Even if you did cum without permission. I’ll let you off this once, as you’re a stupid foreign twat, but if you do it again you’ll receive a cunt-whipping.”
“Yes, sir,” said Aylee, humbly, still dazed from her orgasms.
“Cunt,” the General continued, addressing Tilly, “you’re responsible for the new bitch. She’ll sleep with you, assist you in your chores, and you’ll cooperate with her in having your udders enlarged.”
“Yes, sir!” said Tilly, saluting. Her face was still wet with the General’s cum and Aylee’s cunt juices.
And just like that, Aylee found herself serving – temporarily, at least – as an Orhanian Bitch.