Story: Aylee the Alchemist-Slave: Book 2, Part 1

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(CW: piss, monster-fucking)

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Hana and Tilly had assumed that as soon as they passed through the Yellow Gate of Vass they would be free from rape, free from degradation, free from sexual abuse and sexual torture, and immediately able to live their lives as emancipated women.

They had assumed wrongly.

But Aylee had not.  And Aylee had prepared, as far as she was able to.

“Drink this,” she said, offering a small cup of white liquid to the other two girls.

They wrinkled their noses.

The girls were currently crouched in a small cave in the Howling Hills, two days’ ride west of Vass.  Outside, the sun was falling, and the temperature was dropping, causing the girls to shiver and rub at their exposed arms and legs.

The Howling Hills were not pleasant.  The terrain here consisted of endless rocky rises and valleys, never quite resolving into mountains, never quite flattening into plains.  The only flora was a kind of low, scrubby grass; a particularly painful thistle that was nearly invisible amongst the grass it grew in;  and the occasional wizened, fruitless tree.  They had seen neither river nor pond.  

A cold, disquieting wind blew constantly, creating strange sounds as it whistled between the rocks that at times sounded like the playing of distant instruments, and at others like inhuman voices muttering to each other or even screaming.

The cave – which they had found at the end of their second hard day of riding west out of Vass – was the only shelter from the elements that they had seen since morning.

Right now, Aylee and her sister Hana were nude – having not been able to access their clothes in escaping the city – while Aylee’s lover and slave Tilly was wearing her Orhanian uniform, now dirty from travel.  Even in their miserable, cold state, Aylee still found the sight of her sister’s naked body arousing, and she felt vaguely resentful of Tilly for having clothes to wear.

But clothing was not the most pressing issue.  The issue at hand was sustenance.

“We didn’t bring much water,” said Aylee, continuing to hold the cup out towards the other girls, “and it ran out this morning.  You need to drink this.”

Aylee’s sister Hana frowned.  

“You only have, like, a canteen of it,” she said.  “It’s not going to last us even a day.”

Aylee shook her hand. 

“You don’t understand.  It’s not for thirst.  Well, not directly.  It’s the Gurushic Philtre.”

“What’s that?” asked Hana.

“It’s a potion,” said Aylee.  “An alchemical potion.  It will help you.  It will let you metabolise… bodily fluids.”

Hana was not the brightest in Aylee’s family.  She blinked, not comprehending.

 “Bodily fluids?” she asked.

Tilly understood.  

“Piss and cum,” she said.  

“We can’t eat or drink anything out here,” explained Aylee.  “But the Nightsteeds can.  They eat the grass and the thistles, and their bodies extract the water from them.  With the Philtre, we can… live off their urine and semen.”

Hana made an exaggerated retching motion – but Aylee knew she had swallowed cum and piss before.  She might be a little brat about it, but she would do it if it was necessary.

“I don’t love this,” said Tilly.  “But…. I understand.”  She took a deep breath.  “But what about you?” she added.

“I’ve already used this potion,” said Aylee.  “In fact, I actually made this dose.  It’s made out of my breast milk, expressed while my tits were in agony.  It was… one of the most horrible things I’ve ever been made to do.  But my Master made me create extra – more than I needed – and I stole the remainder before leaving the Guild.  So just feel lucky that you don’t need to make your own.”

Tilly had the grace to look grateful.  She took the cup from Aylee, and drank it.  

Aylee poured another, and offered it to Hana.

Hana looked at Aylee with big eyes.  “I thought we were free,” she said.  “But… we have to live off piss and cum from horse-monsters?”

Aylee reached out and stroked her cheek tenderly.

“You know they’ll make us suck their cocks anyway, Hana,” she said.  “At least this way we get something out of it.”

The monstrous horse-like Nightsteeds had, in fact, refused to move or allow the girls to mount that morning until the girls had let the animals bathe their face and tits in piss, and had then sucked the horse’s cocks to orgasm.  

Bitches, the Nightsteeds had laughed, and they thrust their monstrous cocks into the mouths of the girls.  Horse-fucking empty-headed cunts.  The shame and degradation of the girls never ceased to amuse the cruel monsters.

Hana was still looking dubious as she regarded the cup in Aylee’s hands, so Aylee added, “It’s just until we get to Maratar.  Then we won’t need the steeds anymore.  Women live free in Maratar.”

“Really?” asked Hana, her voice full of hope.

“Really,” promised Aylee.

That was enough.  Hana took her cup, and drank the fluid.

Tilly was licking her lips, making sure she got every drop of the potion.

“How soon does it work?” she asked. 

“It only takes a few hours until your kidneys adapt to a steady diet of urine,” said Aylee.  “And you should begin to actually derive nutrients from it as early as tomorrow morning.  You take repeat doses every day, and at the end of the week the process will be complete – you’ll be able to eat and drink nothing except what comes out of a cock without starving or suffering deficiencies.”

Hana’s face fell.

“The end of the week?” she whined in dismay.  “How long are we going to be travelling for?”

Aylee sighed.  She hadn’t realised that Hana didn’t understand the distances involved – but in retrospect it should have been obvious.  It wasn’t Hana’s fault – neither Aylee nor Hana had ever left Vass before, and neither girl had ever been allowed to see a map, let alone read one.  It was only because of Tilly, and her experience in the Orhanian military, that Aylee had a good sense of what the journey truly required.

It was Tilly, in fact, who answered the question.

“A little over three weeks,” she said, “if the Nightsteeds cooperate.  We could go faster if we used what roads and game trails exist in this countryside, but we can’t risk them, because Vass may be looking for us.”

This had been a point of contention between Aylee and Tilly during the day’s riding.  Aylee felt sure that Vass would not bother hunting three girls once they had travelled more than a day from the city.  Girls were plentiful, even if one of them had been trained as an alchemist-slave.

Tilly, on the other hand, reminded Aylee that they had stolen papers and potions from the Watchful Guild of Alchemists; they had stolen mounts from the Orhanian Embassy; they had blown up the Battery, the source of all of Vass’s gynaetic power; Tilly herself was a member of the Orhanian military, potentially possessing military secrets; and all three girls were heading for Maratar, which was the target of an impending Orhanian invasion.

When Tilly put it like that, Aylee had to concede that yes, maybe Vass *would* make the effort to hunt them.

Aylee pulled out the map that she had stolen from Master Klax’s papers.

“We are here,” she said, pointing at a spot a little west of Vass.  Then she paused, and said, “I think.”

Tilly frowned – but it was true.  Tilly had never been taught to navigate, and neither Aylee or Hana had the slightest idea how.  They could find west and east while the sun was up, but that was about it.  They had to trust that they had been moving in a straight line, and hope for the best.

Aylee pointed at another spot, further west – a forested land nestled beneath mountains.  

“This is Maratar,” she said.  “The only way in without crossing the mountains is from the south.  That’s why it has held its freedom for so long despite being run by women.  We just need to hold our course until we see the mountains, and then circle around to find the pass.  Easy.”

Hana pointed at another area, further south.  

“What’s this?” she asked.

Tilly answered.  “Nibrahig,” she said.  “A domain of goblins – twisted little monsters who once lived in the Forest, who have spread north to infest the southern hills.  They say they treat human women even worse than in Vass.  They keep them as cattle and pets, and conduct strange experiments on them.”

Hana shivered with fear, and Aylee moved to hug her reassuringly.

Tilly laughed.  “Luckily, we have no reason to go near those lands.  As long as we hold to our course, we will never see a goblin.”

There was a noise from outside the cave.  The Nightsteeds were whickering, in their inhuman way, that wasn’t quite speech, but which nevertheless gave a clear message to those listening.

Bitches, it said.  We wish to piss.  Come be a good little toilet.  Brainless little piss-drinking whores.

Aylee looked at the other girls.  

“Tilly, can you get a fire going and see if you can make this space comfortable for sleeping?” she said.  She wished they had been able to secure some sheets or bedding before leaving Vass – but wishing wouldn’t make it so.

“I’ll try,” said Tilly dubiously.

Aylee left her to it, and went to service the mounts.

The Nightsteeds laughed at her as she crawled on all fours beneath the first beast, and then rose to a kneeling position to take its cock into her mouth.  As always, the mockery made her blush – she knew that she was disgusting and slutty for doing this, and that she deserved to be ashamed of herself.

But at the same time there was something comforting about kneeling, perfectly still, with her mouth wrapped around an enormous horse cock, waiting for it to piss down her throat.  It felt right.

As a young woman, Aylee had occasionally attending the teachings of the Cult of Barrad with her family.  The Cult taught that all humans of Arth-Keros descended from a single Man and Woman who had awoken to find themselves inside the Labyrinth at the heart of Arth-Keros’s dark, primal Forest.

The Man had escaped the Labyrinth by his own will, cleverness, and strength.  But the Woman had only been able to escape by prostituting herself to nine powerful demons – the Nine Impure Natures – and with each demon she had fucked, she had taken part of it into herself and all her descendants, tainting them forever after to be worthless, sinful, and whorish.

One of those demons had been Gurush the Degrader – the being for whom the Gurushic Philtre was named – and Gurush had made it inherent in the nature of women to be toilets.  It was natural and normal, taught the Cult, for women to drink piss, to eat garbage, and to soil themselves in public.  

Aylee had never believed that at the time – but the memory had returned to her as Klax had altered her body to consume and process urine.  And now, submissively offering herself for a sentient horse-monster to piss into, she couldn’t help but sense the underlying truth of it.

The Nightsteed began to piss, and Aylee began to quickly and convulsively swallow to keep up with the considerable stream of urine.

As she tasted the beast’s piss, she felt her cunt wetten, and she allowed herself the indulgence of reaching down to rub her pussy as she drank.

Big-titted toilet, laughed one of the other Nightsteeds.  See her masturbate to her degradation.

Aylee didn’t care.  It felt good.  She needed pleasure, however fleeting, to get her through this miserable escape.

The Nighsteed finished pissing, and Aylee licked its cock clean, and then scurried to the next of the beasts to repeat the process – once again fingering her twat as she sucked down its piss.

Ideally she would cum.  She wanted to cum.  But she wouldn’t let herself.

She was still wearing the Halistrax Field collar.  She was far from any gynaetically sensitive equipment, so she was no longer in danger of ruining some alchemical experiment, or shorting out nearby streetlights, if she dared to orgasm – but she worried that allowing herself release might break the collar itself.  And she still needed the collar, if she hoped to use the skills she had learned as an Alchemist-Slave to protect herself and the other girls.

So she edged herself, and moaned, and drank piss like a good girl.

Soon the second mount was done, and Aylee moved on to the third.

Stupid female piglet, said the Nightsteed as Aylee took its cock into her mouth.  Thinks it can escape rape.  But all it is good for is ejaculating into.

The first Nightsteed spoke.  Do you know you are an animal, piglet? it asked.  Slap your tits if you know you are a worthless piss-drinking cum-rag.

There was no point in disagreeing with the Nightsteeds.  They needed the beasts’ compliance if they hoped to reach Maratar.  So Aylee used her free hand to punch herself in the breasts as hard as she could bring herself to.

The tit pain only made her hornier.  This was what the Guild of Alchemists had made her.

And then it was over.  Aylee’s stomach was uncomfortably full of piss, and her face was flushed, and her nipples were hard, and her cunt was drooling slut nectar.  It was an immense act of self-control to take her hands away and *not* make herself cum, but instead to crawl back into the cave and lie next to her sister and her lover. 

She didn’t dare let either of them lick her pussy, or finger it, but she could kiss them, and fondle their tits, and so the three girls curled up together in the dirty cave, and shared their affection, and waited to see what tomorrow would bring.

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