Previous chapters:
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen
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The morning after Vice had raped Telea, the storm had abated somewhat, and for the first few hours, as Laurel and Victoria prepared a simple breakfast out of their limited supplies, Vice hoped that the skies might clear entirely and allow them to return to their camp.
But by midday the winds were picking up again, and Vice was forced to accept that the tempest was not yet spent. It worried him, because the supplies they had brought to the cave were fairly modest, and with no knowledge of the weather systems of Persephone Nine, he couldn’t be sure that the weather *would* improve. For all he knew, this might be the start of a season of storms that would last for weeks or months.
In addition, Amy’s condition was worsening. She was aware that the spores from the Cuntroot required her to orgasm – and ejaculate – on a regular basis, to avoid reducing her to a vegetative state, and now that it had been 24 hours since the plant had raped her, she was beginning to panic. Her collar stopped her from playing with her pussy, so she had begun begging someone to lick her, or masturbate her, or fuck her.
Amused, Vice had told Telea to go help Amy, and Telea – now openly eager to please her lover and master – had begun to lick at Amy’s exposed cunt.
As Rospar had predicted, Amy was unable to cum without intense pain in her cunt, and so although Telea made her sopping wet, Amy was unable to reach release. Soon she was begging Telea to hurt her, and Telea eagerly complied, knowing it would entertain Vice. She pinched at Amy’s clit, and slapped at her pussy, but it still wasn’t nearly enough to get Amy off.
Finally she got to her feet and began kicking Amy in the cunt with her foot, which made the nude, humiliated pop idol writhe and moan deliciously, but still wasn’t enough to satisfy her spore-inflicted condition.
Vice knew of two ways to solve Telea’s problem. They could synthesize a medicinal cure for her infection, permanently removing the spores – or he could fuck the poor girl with a spined condom, to give her the pain she needed to cum.
Unfortunately, both of these options required the use of the fabricator – and the fabricator was back in the camp on the shore, completely out of their reach.
As the howling of the winds outside increased in volume, Telea and Amy’s slutty experimentation was interrupted by an unexpected arrival. A shadow appeared in the cave mouth, and Vice and all four girls immediately scrambled to protect themselves.
Vice drew his stun gun and aimed it at the shadow. “Stay back,” he growled – although if it was a Persephonian predator, such as the rapehounds, they would not understand his words.
But it was no predator. The shadow raised its arms, and said, “Yes, sir, I obey,” in a halting, accented voice. And then Vice saw its silhouette – a small body, with cartoonishly large breasts.
“Female Pig?” he called out. “Is that you?”
“Yes, sir,” came the reply.
The Galliard woman shuffled forward, into the range of their lights. Once again, Vice was struck by how her body was so clearly designed to be raped. Her soft, fiery orange hair hung down to her buttocks. Her face was cute, and kissable. She was nude, and her breasts were large and round, like fake tits, but all natural – the result of genetic augmentation – and milk dripped openly from the nipples. Her cunt was hairless, and visibly wet. Vice remembered that the Book of Galliard implied all Galliard women were perpetually lubricated for rape.
But there was one change. When last Vice had seen this girl, she had been pregnant. Now her belly was flat.
Vice turned to his girls. “This is Female Pig,” he told them. “You remember her. She’s the one who brought us the Book of Galliard.” He turned back to the Galliard girl. “Female PIg, these are …”
But then he remembered that Galliard women didn’t really have names, except to shame them, because women deserved shame but not identities. So instead of introducing his harem, he instead finished lamely with, “… my bitches.”
“They look like dumb sluts,” replied Female Pig promptly. When Victoria and Laurel responded with a look of surprise and anger, Female Pig went on to explain, “Among the Galliard it is customary for bitches to greet each other by insulting and degrading each other, so that we will not form relationships or affection other than a shared desire to please men.”
“Oh,” said Victoria. “Well, you look like a stupid bimbo.”
“Yes,” said Laurel, viciously. “You look like an ugly little slut.”
Female Pig blushed, and looked at her feet, and Vice marvelled that the Galliard had trained her to still be hurt and humiliated by such abuse even when it was apparently a daily routine.
“Female Pig,” he asked, “did you have your baby?”
She looked up and beamed. “Oh, yes,” she said. “A healthy baby bitch. She will be called Empty Slut. The Masters have taken her away to indoctrinate her until she comes of age, and now I am ready to be bred again.”
“They took your baby?” asked Victoria, horrified.
“I’m a female,” said Female Pig. “I’m far too stupid to raise a child, and I have other important duties, like sucking cocks and being bred. The Masters will raise my child to know her proper place in life, and when she comes of age, she will celebrate by raping me in front of the Masters, for their entertainment.”
Laurel looked at Female Pig’s leaking milky tits. “Don’t you breastfeed her?” she asked.
“Oh, no,” said Female Pig. “It is the machine that milks me. Empty Slut will be raised on the milk of many bitches, but form no emotional attachment to any of them – only to the Masters.”
Laurel looked at Vice in horror. “This is what you want us to become?” she demanded.
“I want us to survive,” said Vice in a low voice. “I want to help you adapt, so the Galliard don’t feel the need to eliminate us from their planet.”
Female Pig nodded enthusiastically. “The Masters have been watching you. They are pleased with much of your progress. They like how you keep the bitches naked. They like how you teach them from the Book. They like how you rape them, and make them rape each other, and masturbate to their rape. It is very promising.”
“Thank you,” said Vice.
Female Pig looked alarmed. “Thank the *Masters*,” she insisted. “A male never thanks a female for anything.”
“Oh,” said Vice. “Yes. My thanks to the Masters.” He paused. “So why are you here, Female Pig? It must have been dangerous to come here, with the storm still raging.”
Female Pig nodded. “Yes, but this was my last chance to reach you for three days. The weather will continue for three days, and then it will be safe for you to return to your camp.”
Amy looked alarmed. “Three days?” she exclaimed. “But…”
“Yes, the Cuntroot,” nodded Female Pig. “The Masters have seen. They told me to bring you this, which was the cause of my haste.”
She passed an item to Vice, and all the girls were able to see it. It was a device much as Rospar had proposed – not a condom, but an elongated cock ring, covered in spines made of some kind of plastic. Vice ran a finger over them. They were hard, but they bent very slightly. They were perfectly engineered so that if they were applied to the inside of a vagina, they would cause agonising pain, but not cut or tear the delicate vaginal wall. He imagined that being fucked with the cock ring would feel something like having a wire scrubbing brush pushed in and out of the girl’s vagina.
“No,” moaned Amy. “Oh, no. Don’t you have the cure? Couldn’t you have brought the cure?”
“Bitches do not deserve the cure,” said Female Pig. “The pain will be educational for you. Good bitches find sexual pleasure in pain.”
“You said you had several reasons for coming?” asked Vice.
“Oh, yes,” said Female Pig. She held out her arm, and Vice saw again the letters in alien script tattooed on her arm. “You remember this?”
“Yes,” said Vice, slowly. “It shows the date of your first vaginal raping, and what was least pleasing about you to your rapist.”
“The Masters thought perhaps you would like to tattoo your bitches, now that you have raped them,” said Female Pig.
Victoria immediately clutched her arms against her chest. “No!” she exclaimed.
Female Pig shrugged. “It is not your choice. Bitches do not have choices. It is your master’s choice. I will assist him to subdue you, if he wishes.”
“But it’s my choice?” asked Vice.
“Yes,” said Female Pig, “and the Masters will judge you by your choice.”
To Vice, that didn’t really sound like a choice at all.
“Anything else?” asked Vice.
“Yes, a last and most important thing,” said Female Pig. “I am to test you, and your bitches, to see how far you have progressed on the Way of Galliard. I will report back to the Masters.”
“What is this test?” asked Vice.
“Questions,” said Female Pig. “And observations. Do you wish to tattoo your bitches?”
“No!” exclaimed Victoria, Laurel, and Amy together.
Vice sighed, went to Victoria, grabbed a handful of her hair, and slapped her across the face. Then he went to Laurel and repeated the discipline.
Telea helped, by slapping Amy for him.
“Yes,” said Vice. “I think they need tattoos, to remind them of their place. Let’s start with Victoria.”
As it turned out, Victoria *really* didn’t want to be tattooed with a record of her first vaginal raping, although it wasn’t altogether clear how much of that objection was to being tattooed at all, and how much was to the humiliating specifics of that rape.
In any case, she kicked and spat and clawed as Vice and Female Pig approached her, and Vice ended up having to shock her repeatedly with the collar, and enlist the assistance of both Telea and Rospar in restraining her, before they could apply the tattoo gun which Female Pig had brought with her to Victoria’s inner arm.
“No!” screeched Victoria. “When we get off this planet, I’m going home. You can’t tattoo me!”
Vice slapped her.
“Do I need to do this in Galliard language?” he said. “I don’t know how to write it.”
Female Pig shook her head. “It should be in a language the bitch understands,” she explained. “The purpose is to remind her of the event.”
Vice nodded, and knelt to tattoo Victoria’s wrist.
On it, he wrote her name, “VICTORIA”. He was worried he might make a mess of it if Victoria kept struggling, but as soon as the gun came near her arm she went completely still, out of fright, and it was easy to write the words.
“Your first vaginal raping,” he asked her. “It’s the one we all saw, isn’t it?”
She blushed and looked away, making no answer, so Vice took that as a yes.
He tattooed the date on her arm, then added, “FUCKED IN THE CUNT LIKE A STUPID TRAITOROUS BITCH BY RAPEHOUNDS”. The gun allowed him to create small, neat letters that were legible despite their relatively modest size.
“You should add how she disappointed them,” prompted Female Pig.
Vice had no idea what criticisms the monstrous rapehounds may have had of Victoria’s sexual performance. But he knew the point of the tattoo was to humiliate and retraumatise her every time she looked at it. So he tattooed, “MULTIPLE ORGASMS. ENJOYED IT TOO MUCH.”
Female Pig nodded in approval.
Victoria looked at what Vice had written, and made a choked sob of rage and humiliation.
“I’ll go next,” said Telea, and she sounded actually eager.
She needed no restraint, but instead knelt and held out her arm obediently.
“TELEA”, tattooed Vice, and then he looked at her. “Your first… is it when your mothers had you raped?” he asked.
She shook her head emphatically. “It doesn’t count,” she said. “His cock only went in a little. I didn’t cum, and neither did he.’ She looked at him with adoring eyes. “My first vaginal raping was last night. With you.”
Vice smiled, and scrawled last night’s date on her arm.
He thought for a minute, and then wrote, “WILLINGLY RAPED BY HER MASTER AND CAPTAIN.”
Telea made a noise of embarrassed delight when she saw what he had written. She looked up at him, and would clearly kissed him, had he not still been holding the tattoo gun close to her wrist.
“And how did she disappoint you?” asked Female Pig.
Honestly, Telea *hadn’t* disappointed him, in any respect. She had been a perfect and intensely satisfying rapetoy, and he hadn’t been lying when he told her he loved her.
But Female Pig – and her Galliard masters – would require him to write something. To their mind, females were *always* disappointing.
He thought – and looked at Female Pig – and suddenly an idea came to him. An intense, overwhelming idea.
“Rospar,” he said, “scan Telea for any medical abnormalities.”
“Scanning,” declared Rospar, and then, a moment later, “No abnormalities detected.”
“What… why did you do that?” asked Telea, confused. “What were you looking for?”
Vice smiled. “The way that you disappointed me,” he said. “I know what it is.”
Telea looked absolutely crestfallen, miserable that she had disappointed him in any way at all on her first raping. But Vice ignored her, and lowered the tattoo gun to her wrist.
He thought of Female Pig’s leaking tits, and how sexy her swollen belly had looked.
He wrote, “WAS NOT IMPREGNATED.” Then he paused, and added, “YET.”
Telea looked at what he had written, and her face went bright red. When she looked back at him, there were tears in her eyes – but they were tears of joy.
“I’m sorry I’m not pregnant, sir,” she whispered. “But I will be. For you. I’ll be a good little lesbian breeder.”
He reached out and stroked her hair, “I know you will. And I’m going to have a lot of fun putting a rape-baby into your slutty little belly.”
At these words, she practically beamed with happiness.
The next tattoo was for Amy. Her first vaginal rape had been the night of the first sermon from the Book of Galliard, so he scrawled that date on her arm, and then wrote, “USED AS A STUPID CUM-TOILET BY HER MASTER AND CAPTAIN”, and for her disappointment he wrote, “DIDN’T SAY THANK YOU”.
Amy looked at it, and her face scrunched up in an enraged, humiliated, furious scowl. She looked back at Vice.
“Think about what you’re going to say,” he reminded her. “Because very soon you’re going to need to beg me to rape you with that spined cock ring, and that begging can be an easy process, or a very humiliating and painful process, depending on how you behave.”
She stared at him, clearly wanting to swear, to spit, to demand that he remove the tattoo.
Instead, she said, “Thank you for the tattoo, sir,”
“Good bitch,” said Vice, and patted her hair like she was a dog.
And that left Laurel.
Which was a problem, because while he was on the planet, he had never stuck his cock in Laurel’s cunt, or seen anyone else do so. He had only used her mouth.
“That’s right,” said Laurel, sensing his dilemma. “I’ve never been raped in my pussy. So you can stay away from me with your fucking tattoo gun.”
He sighed. “Then I’m just going to have to rape you, Laurel,” he said.
She picked up her metal crutch, and waved it at him. “Don’t you dare!” she squealed.
He shocked her – several times. There was no excuse for brandishing a weapon at him. He kept shocking her till she dropped the crutch, and then kept going until she began to squeal, “Please! Stop! Stop! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
He stopped shocking her.
“I’m going to rape you, Laurel,” he told her. “In fact, your name’s not Laurel, is it? It’s Cunt. That’s what it says on your Guild ID, right? I’m going to rape you, Cunt, and ‘I’m going to cum in your pussy. And this can go one of two ways. The first is the best for you. In that path, you submit, and lie still, and actively beg me to rape you, and then while I’m raping you, you tell me degrading stories about yourself to keep me hard. And you might even enjoy it.”
He paused, and then went on. “The second path is where you struggle. And I’m worried if you do that, it’s going to re-aggravate your broken leg. And if you struggle, I’m going to put that spined cock ring on before I rape you, to get a little practice with it. And your rape will be intensely painful and traumatic.”
He looked at her. “You know this is true. You know you are helpless. And you know I don’t bluff.”
She stared at him with hatred – and a tear in the corner of her eye. He let her think it through from every angle, so that she would understand that those were truly her only two options.
And, finally, she did understand that. The tear trickled down her cheek, as she slowly spread her legs apart to show him her pussy. “Please, sir,” she said, in a quiet voice. “Rape me. I want you to rape me.”
And he did. He sunk his cock deep into her pussy, enjoying that he was having the privilege of being the first to enter her cunt without consent, and began to fuck her.
She lay there silently at first, so he had to shock her to make her remember the other part of his demand – that she tell him degrading stories about herself. After the second shock, she began babbling in his ear, whispering that she was a slut and a whore.
“Stories, please,” he said. “About you.”
And so she told him that she had had erotic dreams about Victoria being fucked by the rapehounds, where Laurel had wished it was her being humped by the monsters instead. She told him that she wanted to rape Amy. She told him that she had had incestuous fantasies about her father.
He had no idea if any of these were true – he suspected that at least some were not, and were mere inventions she had created to satisfy him – but it aroused him sufficiently that she was forced to say them as if they were true, and soon he found himself cumming into her unwilling pussy.
He cleaned his cock on her face when it was done, and then pushed it into her mouth for her to suck clean. And once he had finished with that, he tattooed her arm.
“CUNT,” he wrote, and added the date. “WANTED TO FUCK AN ANIMAL OR HER FATHER, BUT SETTLED FOR BEGGING HER CAPTAIN TO RAPE HER.” And then he wrote, “ONLY GOOD FOR RAPING, BUT BORING TO RAPE.”
It was the truth. Of all the girls in his harem he had raped, fucking her as she lay there had been the least interesting. And he wanted her to look at that every day and be forced to think about it.
And she was. She was staring at her arm, and crying. She looked pretty when she cried.
“And now,” declared Female Pig, as Laurel wept, “it is time for the testing.”
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