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Review This Story || Author: velvetglove

After the Pestilence

Part 1



by velvetglove


“Beware the iron fist hidden inside a velvet glove”

Parts One to Three have already been posted separately. This is a slightly revised version (mainly correction of some typo's and deleting the introductory comments at the start of each part) of the whole story to date, for those who have not read Parts One and Two.

‘After the Pestilence' is a work of fiction, set in the near future. The Story contains non-consensual scenes of sex, humiliation and moderate violence. It does not contain snuff or mutilation scenes or characters under 18. The Author abhors all forms of brutality and rape in reality and only enjoys fantasies of extreme control and humiliation reinforced by the threat of violence, featuring reasonably credible characters, albeit in a ‘tongue in cheek' context. It is only a sex story written in spare time with no serious plotting, characterisation or literary pretensions. However, the story is narrated from both the dominants and victims' viewpoints and it attempts to give an insight into the motives of the former and the mental sufferings of the latter.

The Auction

“Lot Seventeen”.

The auctioneer glanced over his half-spectacles at the couple momentarily, then back at the audience, before reading out the summary from the digital catalogue. He spoke in a semi-bored monotone, accustomed as he was to selling off between fifty and a hundred Lots a day to the highest bidder.

“A married couple. No children. Him, James, age 31, 5 feet 10 inches, a trained accountant. No other discernible skills. Her, Jane, age 27, but Birthday tomorrow I see, so almost 28. 5 feet 6 inches, a housewife, some experience working in a department store. No other skills that we know of.”

He looked up at the audience briefly and smiled. “Married to each other for 5 years. No previous spouses. Both declared bankrupt yesterday. Debts of 12,452 Credits. Being sold by the State for anything over a reserve price of 12,500 Credits. So, who's going to be the new Owner who will give this nice young lady a nice Birthday present tomorrow ? Shall we start the bidding at, say, 13,000 ?”

“Let's see her tits.” A member of the audience called out.

The auctioneer paused, nodded, and a thick-set male assistant grabbed the woman's cotton shift at the neckline and pulled it asunder, exposing her pale, ample breasts and pink nipples for inspection.

“And her cunt.” Another male voice shouted from the back.

The auctioneer paused, considering. “When I have a bid of 13,000, then you can see all of her.”

“Thirteen thousand.”

An opening bid. The same assistant quickly ripped the woman's cotton skirt away, before she could resist. She blushed scarlet and tried to move her hands in front of her body but he slapped them away.

Forty or so pairs of eyes appraised her. Many of the audience were skilled “Flesh Traders”. She was nice looking, with a pretty face, blue eyes, straggly blonde hair from her night in the cells, curvaceous, probably D cup tits, flat stomach, decent legs, a triangle of light coloured pubic hair. She would scrub up well as a domestic maid or sex slave. She was probably worth 10,000 Credits on her own.

“Let's see the boy too.” Called out a female voice.

“Give me a bid of 14,000 first.” Replied the auctioneer smiling.

The audience waited in silence, sizing each other up. Nobody wanted to pay too much. The male wasn't worth very much as a labourer.

“Fourteen thousand.”

A new bidder.

The man didn't resist as the assistant, armed with an electric prod, tore off the prison-grey cotton shirt and shorts he was wearing. He was less attractive than his wife but okay looking, brown hair and eyes, moderate build, apparently fit, but underweight and lightly muscled from lack of food and working behind a desk, with a soft, shrivelled, frightened penis and only a small amount of body hair. Most bidders at this auction were interested in strong men for manual work.

Nobody spoke.

“Any advance on 14,000 ?” asked the auctioneer. “Come on, you'll get many years good work out of this pair. Or you can keep her and put him up for resale. He'll fetch a tidy sum on his own.”

The audience laughed at the auctioneer's optimism.

“Fourteen five hundred.” Called out a new bidder. A female voice.

The auctioneer grinned and his eyes roved the room hopefully. But within a few seconds he knew that was it. There were thirty three more Lots to go this morning and 14,500 was a fair price for this pair.

“Any advance on fourteen five ?” he asked. “Going once … going twice …. Gone. Sold to ..” he glanced up at the female bidder's card, “Buyer Account 362.”

Within seconds, the couple had been marched away to their new life.

“Lot Eighteen.” said the auctioneer, turning to the digital catalogue.

*** *** ***

The year was 2008. After the Great Pestilence of 2006 and the subsequent Depression, when global Stock, Property and Commodity Markets crashed, the World's largest Economies had each undergone different Revolutions. Some became Military Dictatorships, others so-called People's Republics, other had returned to a Feudal Dark Age of the “haves” and “have nots”. Northern Europe – comprising the Scandinavian countries, much of Germany, the northern half of France, the Benelux Region, and all of Great Britain – had formed the ‘Northern Alliance', ruled by unelected bureaucrats from the old city of Bruxelles. Under the Economic Recovery Act passed by the bureaucrats on January 1 st 2008, human rights were repealed and Slavery was reintroduced throughout the Northern Alliance as the State could no longer afford to provide any form of pension, unemployment or social welfare. Severe punishments were introduced for all crimes, especially stealing, and the penalty for bankruptcy was Slavery for life. In that way, it was hoped, that the their new owners would pay off the debts of the bankrupts and then feed, house and provide them with work instead of the State. And, in a way, the new system worked. It flourished best in the region of England.

Of course, in such a jungle, there were winners and losers. Two such winners were a husband and wife team who had been small time film producers before the Great Pestilence. Porno film makers. They had made a modest living but the costs soaked up most of the income. Brutus held the camera and Stella handled the finance and contracts. But as stocks, property and commodities plummeted, and numerous industries like Steel and Cars, Technology and Construction collapsed, it was the black market basics of food and loan sharking that stayed afloat. And, even in such troubled times, people still wanted Sex.

By a series of deals, lubricated by bribes to corrupt bureaucrats, Brutus and Stella built up a large Sex empire. They owned 66% of The Brute Corporation and 34% had been sold to a variety of state and private “backers”. The Corporation's income was based mainly on the staples of films and TV, magazines and prostitution. Because desperate women, and men, were prepared to sell their bodies to avoid starvation and bankruptcy, six weeks after the Economic Recovery Act, the Northern Alliance State bureaucrats passed a new Act on February 14 th 2008, known as the “Valentines Act”, that forbade any form of prostitution without a Licence. In effect, people could not prostitute themselves until they became bankrupt. The penalty for unlicensed prostitution before bankruptcy was a life sentence of slavery. So, one way or another, only those with a Prostitution Licence could reap the rewards.

Brutus and Stella now owned over 200 slaves, acquired over seven months at an average of about one a day. The best were used in films and photo shoots as unpaid ‘stars', the rest were available for rent by the bureaucrats, food magnates, money lenders and other ‘survivors' who had the cash to spend. A few females were used for “breeding” by men or couples who wanted children without hassle. A few were used for specialist activities that only fee-paying members of Brutus and Stella's Private Club could attend. Of the 200 slaves, about 150 were female and 50 male, mainly husband and wife combinations.

The Journey

It was Stella who had paid 14,500 Credits for the couple who made up Lot 17. They hadn't recognised her as she sat in the audience behind the harsh glare of the auction stage lights. But she had recognised them. They were a young couple from the same social circle as Brutus and Stella, although she hadn't seen them for 6 months, since they moved away to seek employment. Stella remembered the snooty girl once at a drinks party giving her the cold shoulder when the subject of Stella's business had come up, frowning at a woman in the porn movie business. And the wet accountant husband making a face when Stella lit a cigarette next to him, muttering that those things will kill you.

There was little that Stella enjoyed more than introducing such people to the harsh new facts of life. She had a collection of them. She'd bought them at Auction. A school teacher of hers she hadn't liked, who was now aged 48, and she spent fourteen hours a day on her back, front and knees entertaining up to 28 teenage boys a day. Stella had her permanently working in the brothel at “special offer” of 0.1 Credits per half hour, a price even the most hungry kid could usually run to. She had an ex-girlfriend of Brutus, now aged 37, who had carved out a profitable new career for herself as a film starlet. The only thing was her co-stars were always animals and all the profits went to Stella and Brutus. Another was an ex-boyfriend of Stella's, a real jerk, who had now got over his homophobic tendencies by entertaining homosexuals in large groups, when he wasn't acting in gay movies. There were others. And these two would now join them.

*** *** ***

Jim gasped with relief when he saw Stella. He thought he had recognised her voice from somewhere. He nudged Jane alongside him. The woman who had bought them was a friend of a friend. They'd met her a while back quite a few times. Surely she was going to help them, after all. Maybe she needed an accountant ? He remembered she'd been in porn films. But they needed their accounts done too, didn't they ?

He smiled nervously at Stella. She smiled back.

“Jim, isn't it ?”

“Y .. yes. That's right. And Jane.”

“Oh yes, Jane. Hallo.”

“Hallo.” Jane replied cautiously.

Stella took out a pack of cigarettes, lit one and exhaled.

“They haven't got me yet.” She said, holding up the cigarette to him, still smiling, before taking another drag.

Jim shrugged. “I guess not.” He suddenly glanced down, aware of his nudity, and Jane's naked body beside him. He felt himself blush.

Stella shrugged back. “Let's go.”

She led them outside of the Auction House. Cars were rare. Most people travelled by cart, horse and donkey. Stella's trap was parked nearby. It was a light two-seater with a set of leather straps and harnesses. There was no sign of any animal. Many of the carts were pulled by humans.

Jim paused.

Stella stared at him. “Jim,” she said, still smiling but with cold eyes, “I have purchased you both. That means I can do as I like with you. Resist and I can have you whipped, punished, even electrocuted. Understood ?”

He gulped and nodded, aware that next to him, Jane had begun to cry.

“Pl…ease…” he began.

Stella unsheathed an electric prod from her belt. She stared at him.

“Okay…” he mumbled, “I'm sorry.”

She fastened him into the right harness first. Leather straps around his waist, between his legs, and a second set over his shoulders and under his arms, connecting behind his back. She clicked a steel eye-bolt into another eye-bolt at the end of the leash running to the cart.

Then she fastened Jane into the left harness. Again, round her waist and between her legs, and a second set over her shoulders, criss-crossed between her pronounced cleavage and then under her arms to her back. She was similarly fastened to the leash running to the cart.

Stella went to the luggage box in the back of the cart and removed two head-sets and handcuffs. She locked their wrists together behind their backs and then planted the leather head-sets on Jim's and his wife's heads. They were like firm helmets, with blinkers on each side so that Jim could only stare straight ahead and a tight steel chain that ran over his teeth, holding his mouth open, like a bit.

Stella stood in front of them both. Her smile now a smirking grin. Jim wanted to punch her in the face. She sensed his angry rebellion.

“Save your energy, Jim.” She said to him. “It's a long old journey to your new home. It's a hot day and I want you both to trot so we get there quickly.”

Jim turned his head and watched her reach out and handle Jane's bare, defenceless breasts. She tugged on each nipple and then removed two heavy pink steel spheres, the size of table tennis balls, from a pocket. Each sphere had a clip. Stella seized Jane's right breast and attached the clip to the nipple.

“Aaaahh…nggah..” Jane squealed, and several passers-by in the street looked on, laughing.

“This pink is my stable colour. You will wear it with pride.” With that, she fastened the second sphere to Jane's left breast. “I must warn you, slut, that if either of these babies falls off during the journey, then I have an extra special one that attaches to your clit. I will spare you that one today if you are good.”

Jim saw Jane's lip trembling, her eyes watering with tears as she nodded.

Stella moved directly in front of him and roughly turned his face forwards. She delved into another pocket and removed a larger pink sphere, the size of a tennis ball. It had no clip but thin leather loops and a buckle instead. She nodded at him.

“That's right. It goes here.”

Roughly, she pushed his penis, still tiny with fear, aside and buckled the heavy steel sphere around his scrotum, tight so that his balls took the weight. “That won't fall off,” she said to him, “but if it does you don't want to think about the extra special one I have instead for you.”

He felt the cart lurch as she climbed in. And then a long whip cracked the air inches above his back.

“Gidyap !” he heard. “Pull.”

Jim pulled and he felt Jane tugging too. With relief, he realised it was a well sprung cart. It began to move behind them. He pulled harder.

“Faster !” she shouted. “Trot.”

The whip cracked again and this time the fierce tip caught him across the shoulder blade. It felt like hot coal. He wanted to turn and shout at her. Attack her. But his hands were tied and he was helpless. He lifted his legs and pulled, dragging the cart forward with a surge. He kept trotting and sensed Jane trotting too beside him. The weight on his balls was uncomfortable but it didn't hurt. Yet. Under his feet the dried mud road was rutted and dusty. Tears welled up in his eyes. But he still ran.

*** *** ***

Stella smiled and sat back in the cart. They would average about four miles an hour and her compound was ten miles outside the city. At the half way point, in what remained of a burnt out town, there was an “Inn” and watering hole. The next bit of fun could wait until then.

The Editing Suite

Brutus sat in his editing suite. Between his legs, a gorgeous new slave was sucking his cock ever so gently. He didn't want to come. Yet. With luck, he might hold out for Stella's arrival. She got stroppy if he never had any energy left for her. She had her favourites for oral sex but Stella never allowed any other man to fuck her but Brutus. And that was how he liked it too. So the least he could do was save up some of his juice for her every other day or so. She let him fuck female slaves but preferred it if he used their mouths and arses most of the time. That was what he liked most too.

He lifted himself onto one buttock and farted loudly. He had enjoyed a heavy lunch of asparagus salad, steak, ice cream and beers. In seconds he sniffed appreciatively and glanced down. The slave was still sucking blissfully, even though he knew she was hating every second. He watched his thick, glistening cock sliding in and out of her small, stretched mouth. Brutus was 50. He knew he was no longer the woman's dream he'd been at half his age. His face was still handsome in a jaded way, he was quite fit, but his stomach was large, his head was bald and all of his hair seemed to have been transplanted down to his hirsute belly and groin. Stella still fancied him, she said, but he guessed she was the only one. Not that he cared any more. The young darling between his legs was one of the most attractive females they'd bought and she was sucking him regardless of his hairy belly and double chin. In some ways he'd have liked to have turned them on more. He knew Stella was a sadist but Brutus thought of himself as just a horny old devil. He was merely playing the hand he'd been dealt to his best advantage. Well, maybe that was a bit of a lie. Power had corrupted him. But he still thought he had a soft centre. At heart. Deep down. And then again, who gave a fuck ?

He turned his attention back to the screens. It was a film of a young 22 year old, Gemma, a real miss prim when she'd arrived a month before, a typical library type with spectacles who wore loose clothes to hide her large tits. She was being given a ‘Bukkake Dildo' double. A popular series of films that sold in their tens of thousands, including exports, which the State loved because it earned foreign Credits. At one end the girl was taking endless loads of jism from 100 volunteers, of every age, colour and description, in her stretched mouth, and over her face, hair, spectacles, breasts and body. It had been Stella's idea to let her keep her specs on, and they were now streaked with come. While at the other end, a pair of jaded lesbians were expanding the girl's horizons, by drilling her with increasingly large, thick and colourful vibrators in her cunt and arse. Her legs were splayed uncomfortably wide and a massive shiny red machine, as thick as a forearm, was buried nine inches deep inside her distended cunt while one of the laughing lesbians put the electric rotator in the shaft on overdrive, twisting and pummelling her insides. Brutus had used five fixed cameras and two roving ones to get every angle, close up and wide shot, so that he could then edit it to his usual high standards.

He snapped his fingers and the male slave stepped forward with a tray, on which was Brutus's beer, ashtray and cigars. The slave was a handsome lad, tall and muscular, just married, naked except for a steel chastity cage that tightly encased what Brutus knew was a good-sized cock. A cock that Brutus also knew would most likely never again fuck, and rarely, if ever, even spurt its juice again. He took his beer can and drained it.

“What do you think ?” he asked, belching the beer, looking down between his thighs at the gorgeous, slurping female slave. Her name was Lavinia. She was a brunette, with fashion model features, lovely soulful brown eyes, with perfect high, quite small tits, a slim but curvy body.

“I … d…don't know, Master…I ..”

Brutus guffawed. “What do you mean, you don't know ? You see a nice young tart giving a middle aged guy head, what do you think ? Sexy, eh?”

“I .. yes, Master. Yes, it is.”

Between his legs Lavinia pretended to ignore the conversation, although Brutus could tell the bitch was taking in every word.

“You like her to blow you after she's done me, would you ?”

The young man stared. Only ten days earlier, he'd been free, in love.

“Y …yes, Master, yes please.”

Brutus pretended to consider the idea. “Did she ever blow you before ?”

A tear rolled down the man's cheek. “Yes ….well, not like that, Master, more just a kind of foreplay .. before sex I mean … never a blow job.”

Brutus laughed. “Well then you missed your fucking chance then !”

The man's face crumpled, his gaze dropped to the floor.

“Let me tell you what's going to happen, mate. I like your missus here. I think she kind of likes me by the look of it. So I'm going to keep her as one of my favourites for a while, a month or two minimum. And I'm going to keep you around too. You're going to watch and assist as I introduce her to all the things she's been missing married to a wuss like you. Some things she'll enjoy, like fucking and sucking and anal. I mean enjoy relatively. But other things she won't. But you'll encourage her. Pimp her. To drink my piss. Lick my arse. And you will ask her to piss in your mouth too, ask her to let you lick my jizz out of her box, she'll restrain and cane you, and ream your back door with a big dildo.”

Brutus glanced down at the man's wife sucking him, unable to keep the shocked, humiliated expression off her face. He winked at her.

“And eventually, I will share her. But not with you, hubby boy. I'll keep you about for a while so that you can help me select lots of lovers for her to demonstrate her new skills on. How does that sound, eh ? Deal ?”

It was amazing how even the big, muscular ones almost never fought.

“Deal ?” Brutus bellowed.

The boy looked at him through red, watering eyes. “D, Master.”

Brutus pushed the young wife off his erection.

“Those beers went straight through me. You. Put down that tray and hold my cock. You.” He said to her. “Mouth wide open.”

The two slaves exchanged resigned, petrified glances. They obeyed.

“Now,” Brutus chuckled, as the boy held his thick glistening cock. “Aim it ! And if you don't get most of it in her mouth, and if you don't guzzle most of it down, you'll both ride the electric horse with dildoes in your arseholes for half an hour.”

A friend of Brutus always joked that a piss when you needed it was better than an orgasm when you didn't. He relaxed and released his bladder. Whoever said you couldn't piss with an erection hadn't tried hard enough. It was just a question of the angle. And lots of practice. A jet of hot piss shot out and splattered young Lavinia's beautiful face. In a moment, her husband had redirected Brutus's cock to aim the flow into her mouth. Oh yeah. The colour was tinged green, the stink thick with the asparagus he guzzled for lunch, the fetid taste he knew would be acrid and foul. Her mouth quickly filled and then it overflowed her lips.

“Swallow bitch. Hurry.”

She swallowed, gasped and then opened her mouth wide again. Six times it filled, bubbled over and she swallowed, until finally Brutus ran dry.

He swatted her husband's grip away from his cock. “Man, your missus makes a good lavatory. I shall make frequent use of her. And if you do anything wrong over the coming weeks, just one little thing, then I shall make proper use of her too. You know what that means ?”

“I … er …no Master …” The young man shook his head.

“It means I shall dump in her mouth.” Brutus smiled at their horrified faces. “That's right. The big number two. Her fate is in your hands.”

There was a pause. “Y ..yes, Master.”

Suddenly Brutus switched tone, teasing them. “Aah, come on. It's not that bad. Life here can be a lot worse. You're the lucky ones. You're still together. You're in love. Kneel down and kiss your missus. Go on.”

Brutus pushed back his seat so that the two slaves could face each other on their knees. He reached and pushed their heads together. Their chests. Their lips. Their tear-stained eyes.

“Mmm. That's it. Lick my piss from her face. Clean her up. Tell you what. What was your wife called ?”

“L … Lavinia, Master.”

“Lavinia. Nah. Doesn't suit her. Let's rename her. From now on, we'll call her Lavatory instead. Go on, tell Lavatory you love her.”

Grimacing with shame, the male slave said. “I …lo …love you.”

Brutus cuffed his ear. “Use her name, damn it !”

“I love y…you, L ..Lavatory.”

Brutus smiled down at them both.

Then, almost as if the past five minutes hadn't happened, Brutus dismissed her husband back to the corner with the tray and gestured for Lavinia to get back to her job between his legs, as he began editing the movie on the bank of screens in front of him.

The Inn

After ninety long, hot minutes, Stella's cart arrived at the Inn. A dozen carts were tethered outside, some pulled by horse or donkey, others by humans. Several single horses were also tied to a rail and two beaten up old cars were parked nearby.

Stella docked her buggy whip and clambered down from the cart. She smiled at the two broken, glistening bodies, heaving with effort and gasping for breath. They had managed to trot about half the distance, and walked the rest at various speeds, having each vomited several times from the effort. They were filthy with dust and scratches, with several livid welts from the whip across their shoulders and backs. Without a word, she went into the Inn. The bartender and several acquaintances greeted her. She ordered a coffee and a juice and lit a cigarette.

“How's things, Stella ?” asked the barman. “New purchases ?”

She nodded outside. “Yes, Frank. Got any water for them ?”

Frank grinned. “Sure.” He was a short, round faced, cheerful man.

“Have a couple of the lads fetch in the female will you ?”

A minute later, two teenage boys led Jane in by her harness. All eyes in the bar turned to the new arrival. Their faces grinned. Stella took a bowl from Frank and placed it on the end of a long, sturdy wooden table. The water was warm, brackish and unpleasant.

“Drink.” She ordered.

Jane paused only a moment and then bent at the waist and put her cracked dry lips to the water. She paused again then lapped. Several people gathered round to watch close up. Smiling, a grizzled unshaven man lent over and slowly drooled a rope of saliva into the bowl. Jane looked up at him in disgust and stopped drinking.

Stella shrugged and lifted the bowl away. “Had enough ? I'd have thought you'd be thirstier after that long journey. Obviously I was wrong.”

Jane's eyes darted backwards and forwards in alarm. “I …”

Everybody laughed.

“Remove her lower harness, lads.”

Quickly, the two teenagers unbuckled the leather strap from around Jane's waist and between her legs, casting it to the floor.

“Up on the table with her.” Stella said.

Hands grabbed the tired, defenceless woman and manhandled her up onto the refectory table, twisting her over on her back, face up.

“If her mouth isn't thirsty, maybe her cunt is ?”

A cheer went up.

“Frank,” Stella continued, “I'm afraid I haven't got my Credit book with me. How much for my coffee, juice and the water ?”

Frank undid his belt. “How about a quick fuck for me and, say, five of my mates ?”

Stella made a face. “Five ? That's a bit pricey. I'm in a hurry. How about we settle on you and your two lads ?”

Frank's pants were down and his cock already stiff. “Done.”

He spat on a couple of fingers and wiped them over Jane's dry labia. She fought as best she could but physically exhausted and held by six pairs of hands, she never had a chance. In seconds, the barman had eased his cockhead between her lips and thrust himself inside.

“Aaaggh.” Jane complained, snarling, thrashing her head.

Frank took a firm grip on the pink balls still clipped to each of her heavy tits, which were well presented and rubbed raw by the leather upper harness. He flicked the balls manically from side to side sniggering. Other hands held her, semi-roughly, semi-fondling.

Stella bent over so that her mouth was inches from her new slave's ear.

“Welcome to your new life, Jane dear. Fun isn't it ?”

Stella shivered with delight at the look of pure hatred Jane gave her. She loved a fighter. They were so much more interesting.

“Now, you've had a few moments to get used to it. From now on, I want you to give Frank here a nice fuck instead. I want you to make all the effort. Thrust upwards. Squeeze your cunt. Lots of nice moaning. Bring Frank off inside you or I'll rethink that price of just two more.”

Jane stared. Frank had stopped pumping her and was just gently rocking his cock backwards and forwards, grinning down into her face.

“Lend me your electric prod, will you ?” Stella said to an onlooker who quickly passed it over. Stella flicked it out expertly and turned on the power. She smiled and held it to Jane's right tit.

“Aaggh !” Jane screamed again.

“Fuck !” Frank laughed. “That was amazing. Her cunt muscles tightened like a vice round my dick. Do it again.” Everybody smiled.

“Again ?” Stella asked Jane.

“N …no…pl…se.”

“Okay, then. Let's fuck shall we ? Like we love Frank.”

Slowly, Jane began to rock, and push upwards. Frank withdrew his stubby cock almost to the mouth of her cunt so that a few people could see it, then slammed it back in, producing a groan from Jane.

“That's it.” Stella said, mock-encouragingly. “Some appreciative moans.”

Despite her obvious exhaustion, Jane's body managed to switch into automatic overdrive. She pushed to meet Frank's thrusts, his flesh slapping against hers, and she moaned like a willing wife.

Stella pushed one of the teenage lads forward. “Take off your pants, lad. Ever had your arse licked before ?”

The boy shook his head and was stripped in seconds. To cheers from the audience, he clambered onto the table above the woman's head and crouched with his buttocks over her face, facing away from Frank.

Stella leaned close to Jane's ear and smiled.

“Something to keep your mouth occupied. Bite and I'll have all your teeth removed, Got that ?”

Jane slowly nodded, glancing up at the hairy young anus above her.

At that moment, Frank groaned loudly and threw his head back, grinding his teeth as he emptied his balls inside Jane's loosened vagina.

Everybody cheered and slapped him on the back as he withdrew.

In seconds, the second pimply teenager had taken his place, slipping his erection inside her now welcoming cunt. Meanwhile, his partner had lowered himself onto Jane's mouth and protruding tongue.

“Okay Jane. You've two nice young lads to look after now. I want you to moan really nicely and make it good for them. In between licks of that arse, I want you to say nice things. Ask them to fuck you and say how great that arse tastes. Understood ? Or do you want another shock ?”

“Mmmpff …” she tried to respond. “Nngg ..o.”

“Let's hear it then.”

“Mmpf .. please … mm … f…fuck me…please …mmmmm….. mmm…s…so …gooood … mmmpf….lov ..ely…arse….”

Stella smirked at the grinning audience. “Louder, bitch.”

“Please …” Jane almost shouted … “Mmmpf ..oh yes….so good …”

At that moment, four burly men from the bar marched Jane's husband Jim through the front door. He was gagged, cuffed, held tight.

“Fuck me…please, harder, yes …Mmm … arse …tastes so goood…”

Stella put her finger to her lips. Everybody carried on commenting and chuckling as normal. She so enjoyed the look on Jim's face as he confronted his wife fucking somebody else for the first time. She'd been such an up-her-own-arse-hoity-toity little bitch. Now, she was up somebody else's arse, with her tongue deep in a young lad's crack while another had his cock deep in her snooty cunt. She didn't know her beloved husband was watching.

“Mmmpf … oh yes, fuck yes, ….mmm…goood …love arse….”

He didn't try to struggle. He just stared as the men held him tight.

“Yes,” hissed the lad fucking her, “yesss….yesssssss !” He collapsed forward onto her big bouncing tits, adding his thick wad to the mix.

Almost reluctantly, the other lad raised his arse from her face. His buttocks shone with saliva and his cock jutted out like a flagpole.

Jane opened her eyes, raised her head, and saw her husband watching.

“Nooo.,” she wailed, “…you bastards.”

A big cheer went up. Stella grinned.

In seconds the third cock was inside and in a few moments it had erupted. Grinning with embarrassment, the teenager slid his cock out from between Jane's thighs, trailing a rope of glistening semen from the tip.

Stella walked between Jane's splayed legs and peered at the overflowing mess between them. Moisture covered her inner thighs and pubic triangle but a thick stream of white cream oozed from between her labia.

Without waiting to be asked, the four men twisted Jim's arms and brown hair so that he fell to his knees, and pushed him into position, the heavy pink ball strapped to his scrotum clattered on the wood floor.

“You have a choice, Jim lad.” Stella said. “Lick your wife's cunt clean or we'll keep on filling it up until you do. It'll be the only refreshment you get here so I would make the most of it.”

Jim tried to twist away. Without luck. He was beaten and he knew it. His head dropped. Stella grabbed his hair and pulled him close.

“Not too near. Use your tongue. Stick it out. That's it, my friends and I all want to see you lapping it. Start with her thighs and move in.”

Heads peered in to get a good view. Stella lit a cigarette and exhaled into Jim's grimacing face as he began kissing his wife's inner thighs.

“That's my boy. Get used to the taste. Mmm… delish' eh ?”

A camera flashed. Another poster for the toilet walls of the Inn.

They watched entranced as Jim slowly kissed and then moved his tongue to the thick load at the opening of his precious wife's love canal. He gagged as a marble sized dollop slid onto the end of his tongue.

“Don't waste any, Jim. Otherwise, I'm sure there's plenty more available.”

He managed to control his retch and swallowed the first mouthful. It took him another whole five minutes before Stella was satisfied.

“Right everybody. I must love you and leave you.” She announced. “Thanks very much for your assistance. If you would just help me fasten up my ponies for the second half of our journey.”

Twenty people or so helped. They fastened Jim first, back in his harness and helmet. Then they fastened Jane, buckling the lower harness back around her waist and tight up between her anus and sodden cunt.

Stella clambered aboard the cart, waving.

“Thanks, Frank.” She unsheathed the buggy whip and cracked it once, then again, over the slaves' backs. Frank and a couple of others eased the cart back from the rail and marched the ‘ponies' back a few feet, so that they could pull away.

“Gidyap, we're only half way home.”

Slowly, unable to comprehend what had just happened, one humiliated husband and one well fucked wife, trudged forwards dejectedly.

The whip cracked across their shoulders and they broke into a trot.


Gemma squatted, eyes ahead, body steady, thighs apart, touching the ground by her side with just her fingertips. In front of her, three people were sat, sipping tea and nibbling sandwiches. She wasn't sure but she thought all three of them were members of the Government. One man was definitely an officer of the dreaded Stalitz, the secret police. The other man and the woman were some sort of bureaucrats she thought. The female was also related to Stella in some way and she had been one of the two women who had rammed larger and larger things up Gemma's orifices during the terrible film the day before, when Gemma had been the “star”, in their words, of the sick Bukkake movie. Her vagina and bottom still throbbed and she would never get rid of the overpowering smell and taste of semen in her mouth. But in her four weeks in Brutus and Stella's ownership, she had learned that there was no respite. Things could always get worse. So here she was naked, except for her glasses, squatting outside on a white marble table. Her stomach rumbled. After letting her sleep a full 8 hours after filming, they had fed and watered her with ‘specials' three times that day, and forbidden her to use the toilet. Gemma had got used to the public washrooms and being seen performing her ablutions by other slaves and guards. But that wasn't the same as squatting like this alone in front of three fully dressed people of both genders.

The young woman rose and wandered over to Gemma. Raising an inquisitive eyebrow, she ran a hand over Gemma's 38D tits, down her flank, and between Gemma's widespread legs, fingering her sphincter.

“Cramp ?” she asked.

Her thighs and calves ached horribly. “No, Miss.”

The woman's sharp fingernail wormed its way up inside Gemma's anus.

“Sore ?”

Gemma shook her head very slightly. “No, Miss.”

The woman shook her head with a smirk. “Tough little bitch aren't you ?”

Gemma paused, uncertain. “N… no, Miss.”

The woman removed her fingernail, sniffed it and placed it in Gemma's mouth. Gemma licked. The woman was probably only 26 or 27, barely 5 years older than her at most. And yet she had total power. Already she had singled out Gemma for special attention on two prior visits. She was Stella's niece and a worked as some sort of corrupt local official.

“Tell me,” she asked, examining her polished red fingernail, “have you ever eaten shit before ?”

Gemma blinked and gulped. “No, Miss.” She noticed the two watching men leaning forward. The woman's aqua blue eyes narrowed and glinted like dark icebergs in the moonlight.

“Would you like to ?”

Again Gemma, paused, uncertain. “No, Miss.”

“But if you had to, you would ?”

Gemma nodded, forcing herself to reply. “Ye …. s, Miss.”

“And would you rather eat your own shit, or somebody else's ?”

Gemma couldn't take it any more. The slow verbal torture. “Please, Miss.” She begged with her eyes. “I'll do anything else….please.”
It was a mistake. She knew it as soon as the words had left her mouth. But, although the watching, heavily lipsticked, red mouth twitched, the woman remained outwardly calm.

“Of course you will. So tell us, what will you volunteer to do if I let you off a little turd munching. Something that you haven't done before. Something that excites us all even more than my idea.”

Gemma blinked again. Her ankles ached even more now. She was leaning back on her haunches, completely displayed and her arms were stiff from maintaining her balance. But worse, she had cornered herself. She knew that none of the normal sexual smorgasbord of activities and humiliations would satisfy this jaded trio. She had fucked and sucked numerous times already, been buggered, drunk piss, been caned and burned with cigarette ends, suffered bukkake parties and been tortured by over-sized dildoes. Even now, there was little else her normal 22 year old mind could imagine that she hadn't already done or had done to her. She could only think of a few terrible things she'd seen or heard about, like animals, shit and …. what else ? She shook her head.

“I'm sorry, Miss. I don't …. would you consider tattooing me ?”

The woman turned to the watching men. They all smirked.

“How about TOI on one cheek and LET on the other ?” she laughed.

Gemma dropped her eyes down to the table, trying total humility.

“Do you need to go ?” the woman asked, pushing Gemma's stomach.

“Yes, Miss.”

“Bladder and bowels ?”

“Yes, b … both, Miss.”

“Excellent.” She stepped back. “Bladder first. Hurry.”

Gemma shut her eyes. After many minutes controlling herself, she couldn't just go straightaway. The pit in her belly rumbled and her bowels ached for immediate release. It was difficult to loose her bladder without relaxing her bottom at the same time. Eventually, though, she felt her urine coming.

“Open your eyes. Look at me.”

She obeyed and watched the young woman watching her. Clearly relishing the power she held, enjoying Gemma's total humiliation. Gemma's pussy lips pouted and a stream gushed between her thighs onto the marble table. She listened to the hiss and splash and felt the warm liquid seeping between her toes.

The woman studied Gemma's expression. She fingered Gemma's knee.

“Embarrassed ?” she asked.

Gemma nodded. “Yes, Miss.” Still her full bladder kept emptying itself. She must have been going for twenty seconds and yet she felt half full.

The woman slowly ran her hand along from Gemma's knee to her labia.

“Stop.” She ordered.

With an immense effort, Gemma squeezed her bladder muscles. After one or two seconds, the flow slowed to a trickle, then finally stopped.

With an approving smile, she ran her fingers over Gemma's ‘brazilian strip of pubic hair' and teased her lips further apart. Then she raised her hand and examined the droplets of urine that covered it. Looking directly into Gemma's eyes, she tentatively licked a single drop. Her red lips turned down at the edges in a look of disgust.

“Yuk. You really drink this stuff ?”

Gemma made a face. Her legs were cramping and her bladder ached.

“Yes, Miss. When I am told to.”

Her inquisitor held out her hand for Gemma to lick. Then she fetched an empty tea cup and held it just below Gemma's middle.

“Carry on pissing. Into this.”

Gasping in relief, Gemma released the final ten seconds of her bladder's load. “Thank you, Miss.” She hoped gratitude might help her.

The woman lifted the overflowing cup to Gemma's mouth. “Drink !”

One of the other slaves had whispered to Gemma soon after her arrival that drinking piss sounded awful until you'd been confronted with eating shit. Sure, piss was foul and humiliating but it was bearable.

Gemma opened wide and the woman poured carefully. It was hot and bitter but at least it was from her own body. Gemma swallowed it down.

Then, in the background, she caught sight of one of the watching men standing and unzipping himself. He emptied the milk jug and, laughing, placed his penis in the top and began urinating.

“Seems like you've started something !” The woman joked.

*** *** ***

Stella eventually arrived back an hour late, after her new slaves collapsed and could barely pull the cart at walking pace. She dismounted and two guards took the exhausted Jim and Jane off to be processed.

The Brute Corporation compound occupied what had been an entire suburban village a few years earlier. It covered an area of about three square miles, entirely surrounded now by high brick walls topped with jagged glass, and a barbed wire perimeter fence beyond that. Inside the walls, the original village houses that were left standing had been converted to slave and guard huts, storage buildings, and movie production offices. What had once been the village Hotel was now converted into the brothel for visiting guests. The Village Hall had been turned into the main film studio compound. And, at the top of a small rise in the centre of the village, the old Manor House, with its cellars and dungeons, now belonged to Brutus and Stella. Finally, at the edge of the compound where the old fuel filling station had been, was the infamous Hell Hole.


Crossing the lawn, Stella came across Lara with two men and a female slave, who she recognised as Emma, or Gemma, or something like that. The slave was squatting on a table covered in piss. Normally Stella would have stopped to watch a while but she waved to them instead.

Lara came briskly walking over to her.

“Aunty Stell'. Can I have quick word.”

Stella pecked her niece on the cheek. “Yes ?”

“I adore that one. I'd like to buy her.”

Stella frowned. “She's not for sale at the moment, dear. Brutus is using her in a series. I can't remember what. Bukkake I think.”

Lara pouted. “Can I rent her then. Take her away from here a while.”

“I know that look.” Stella smiled. “What do you want her for ?”

“I would have thought that was obvious !”

“You can get a million bitches to lick that hot pussy of yours. Why her ?”

Lara glanced over her shoulder. “There's something about her. I want to break her down. Really get inside her head. Fuck with it.”

Stella laughed. “Sounds like you've fallen for her, Lara.”

Lara looked indignant. To fall for a slave romantically was the ultimate faux pas in the new world. “I have not.” She replied.

“I'll speak to your uncle.” Stella said with finality. “In the meantime, do what you like with her but no real damage, yeah ?”

Lara smiled. “Thanks.” Stella watched her rejoin the group.

Brutus was lying on their enormous double bed. He was sporting an erection and a huge smile. Three slaves were ‘entertaining him'. They were the young couple, Lavatory and Bidet - as he had renamed her husband - and Stella's personal slave, known simply as One, a very pretty young man in his mid-twenties. One was allowed by Stella to live without a chastity device most of the time. She preferred him to control himself. There were hidden camera lenses in every corner of every room in the main house and throughout the compound. There would be no second chance. If he once masturbated himself or orgasmed without permission, he would be castrated and banished to the Hell Hole for the remainder of his days. But he was often allowed to participate in activities and to get an erection. One was stood, legs apart and smiling, while Bidet was on his knees having his first cock sucking lesson. Lavinia, now Lavatory, was next to her husband, on her knees at the end of the bed licking Brutus's toes one by one. Stella smiled at the scene as she walked in.

Brutus patted the bed alongside him. “At last you're back. Come here, my love.”

She walked over and pecked his cheek. “Quick shower first.”

He grabbed her and pulled her onto the bed. “Shower ?” She giggled and kissed him. “We've got human showers to clean us.” He said. “One ! Get your cock out of that bitch's mouth and come here and tongue bathe your Mistress.”

In a flash, the young man was on the bed undressing Stella, kissing her dusty body in long sweeping licks as he went. She lay back and let it happen. In truth, after the afternoon's events, her pussy was on fire. Moist and ready. She nodded at the other two slaves questioningly.

“Meet Lavatory and Bidet. My new personal favourites.” He said.

“I knew you wouldn't be able to resist her when I bought her.”

Brutus smiled and kissed Stella's face.

“I love it when you get jealous. Do you like her new name ?”

Stella kissed him back, her tongue vibrant, as One gently eased her remaining clothes off. Brutus kicked Lavatory away from his toes.

“Come here.” He snarled.

Lavatory rushed to the side of the bed. Her pert breasts quivered.

“Lie flat on the bed. Head at the bottom. That's it.” She lay down with her dainty feet at the pillow end, face upwards, looking nervous.

Brutus pushed One out of the way as well and gently lifted his wife so that she was kneeling alongside Lavatory's prone naked body.

Kissing Stella tenderly, Brutus lifted her thigh and arranged her so that she was astride Lavatory's face, then he eased her down so that her buttocks fell squarely onto the young woman's perfect little nose.

He gazed deep into Stella's eyes.

“That is what I think of her compared with you, my love.” He said, lowering his body and at last burying his pent up erection inside Stella in one slick motion. “Mmm …” He paused, savouring the feeling. “She may be young, she may be gorgeous, but she's a slave who's fit only to lick your arse. This,” he fondled Stella's thigh, “is my preferred pussy and it always will be.”

Stella gave him her tongue again. “She may … be fit to lick it, but … she's not doing it.”

Brutus thrust down hard. “You hear that bitch ? Lick !”

Stella felt the soft, wetness in her bottom. Sensory overload. She smiled at One who was watching intently. Stella liked an audience. A frustrated audience. She knew this wasn't going to last long. She could feel herself building already. And Brutus was not going to be far behind. For a minute or so their bodies moved in sensuous loving rhythm, rare for a place where most of the sex was brutal, unloving, unpredictable.

“Mmm … I love you.” She whispered in his ear.

Brutus stared down at her, his expression pre-orgasmic. “Me too.”

Stella had married Brutus when she was only 18 and a virgin. In spite of a life in the sex industry, he remained the only man she had loved, and who she had ever made love to, in terms of penetrative sex. She was strangely proud of herself resisting all temptation, being faithful to one man. It was one of the reasons she enjoyed whoring other wives, denying them the fidelity she herself valued so much. She would have preferred Brutus to be faithful to her too but that was unrealistic. In fact, she secretly thrilled watching him anally and orally abusing some new tart. He had been married briefly before he met Stella and had sired a child, Brutus Junior. In honour of the son, Stella had spared Brutus's ex-wife, but she had tracked down every one of his other previous steady girlfriends and all were either already hard at work in the compound or on her target list. She could share Brutus's body and cock but not his heart and mind.

They came together. Brutus triggered her. She pushed down onto the bitch's tongue and then thrust up onto her husband, mashing her clitoris against him, and she was over the edge, climaxing in waves.

The Kitchen

In the kitchen, the head chef, picked his nose and flicked the bogey into the big cauldron. He was responsible for some 200 slave meals a day, about 190 ‘normal' meals, 10 ‘special' meals and usually a few ‘a la carte requests'. Before the Great Pestilence, he had run Brutus and Stella's favourite local restaurant. He had gone bust six months ago but Stella had purchased him and his wife and they had become amongst the best treated slaves in the compound. So long as he produced edible but disgusting food that didn't make the slaves ill, and which cost almost nothing, he would be alright. He was even allowed to live and sleep with his plump, middle aged wife, even though Stella had twice sent her to do time in the brothel when she felt disappointed with his cooking.

Inside the cauldron, great hunks of fat and gristle bubbled away in the water that had been used to clean the dishes the day before. Grease, soap suds and scum floated thickly on the surface. Just before serving, he would add several bags of a protein, vitamin, anti-biotic and anti-toxin powder mix that maintained the slaves' health.

Next, he turned his attention to the specials. They were reserved for new slaves and those being mildly punished. He had lined up ten white bowls. In the fridge, a thick glutinous mixture had already set semi-hard. The basic ingredient was a cabbage that he had found at the back of a humid cupboard, bitter and worm ridden and well past its “use by” date. But boiled up for many hours with a box of mouldy tomatoes in a few pints of curdled urine, it had reduced down to a brown mass with the consistency of baby food. Next he had added the ‘texture': a large bowl of human nail clippings that he had obtained from the washroom supervisors, and another large bowl of human pubic hair obtained from the barbers. He had stirred them in and tested with a small spoon, pleased to see that there were several nails and hairs in every bite ! Finally he had added cubes of gelatine to set the mixture into jelly and a few spoonfuls from a bottle labelled “Horse Semen” for that piquant finish.

He removed the mixture from the fridge and cut it into ten large wobbling slices the size of thick crust pizza. Just before serving, he would relieve his bladder over them and place them in the white bowls.

Smiling contentedly, he lit a cheap cigarette, flicked the spent match and ash into the cauldron, and sat back to await his ‘customers'.

Review This Story || Author: velvetglove
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