Breast slave life

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-24

The morning sun rose through the mist. A naked, shy blonde beauty glanced at the sky with hazy eyes, her pretty face flushed and panting softly. The black liquid served as both a nutrient solution for pulling the cart and a powerful aphrodisiac. The feeling of unfulfilled desire made me gently wiggle my hips, letting the thick wooden penis inside my chastity belt slowly stir within my cunt. Stimulated by lust and driven by the iron whip, I didn't even notice where I was pulling the two-wheeled cart, naked. I
only remember being blocked by a long wall of crude wooden fence, my path blocked by a drenched body. I stopped impatiently in front of a simple wooden door. The sign for the "Sex Slave Milk Company" was conspicuously displayed, but with my mouth slightly open, nipples erect, vaginal fluid flowing, and my cunt writhing, I paid no attention to any of that.
"Tribunal, surprise inspection," the iron whip casually handed a silver sign to the hairy guard outside the door.
"Please, please wait a moment..." The arrogant, hairy demon initially looked down on a naked woman pulling an ordinary two-wheeled rickshaw, assuming she was some perverted rich businessman. However, when a richly dressed high-ranking demon stepped out of the rickshaw, it became slightly nervous, and the name of the tribunal further terrified it. A hairy guard quickly ran inside the enclosure, and soon a commotion arose.
Tie Da whistled and strolled leisurely beside me, seemingly waiting for something, showing no interest in completing the so-called "surprise inspection" mission. This bored high-ranking demon quickly focused his attention on me, whose lust was pent up. I was writhing incessantly, trying to quench my thirst with the large penis inside my chastity belt. The bored Tie Da pinched my nipples and gently pressed the chastity belt between my long legs, making me moan repeatedly.
Suddenly, the gate opened, and a hairy man in white leather armor walked out with a beaming smile. First, he stuffed a gemstone that gleamed red in the sunlight and a bag of gold dust into Tieda's hands. After exchanging a few pleasantries with Tieda, laughing heartily, he led him through the wooden gate into the manor, leaving me and the ordinary two-wheeled rickshaw outside, forgotten and ignored.
The manor, enclosed by a wooden fence, was vast, and Tieda and the chaotic noise gradually faded into the distance.
At this moment, my hands were chained to the handlebars of the two-wheeled rickshaw, my nipples still adorned with brass bells, and a rough chastity belt with an embedded penis tightly bound between my long legs.
"Mmm, mmm," I murmured, gently wiggling my hips, my eyes glazed over as I watched the wooden wall stretch endlessly into the morning mist of the grassland.
"Is this the rickshaw?" Two lazy, long-haired grooms swayed towards me. The two long-haired men, dressed in the rough leather vests and shorts of poor herders, wearing felt hats, swayed as if they had just been drinking.
"What bad luck. I was planning to go to town today to see those naked bitches parading and performing. Instead, we had a surprise inspection. It's like the flesh of a rotting wolf, disgusting to the core," the long-haired groom said to the other long-haired groom, while holding the reins around my fair, jade-like neck.
"Yeah, I heard there are all sorts of parades. There's that 'Deep Green Queen' who doesn't treat us like human beings, being fucked like a bitch. And that arrogant Yvit, I don't know what she did wrong, has also been demoted to a sex slave who can be fucked at will. Last time I saw that bitch showing half her breasts and swaying her slender waist, I've wanted to fuck her for ages," the other long-haired groom said gleefully, drooling, as he opened the wooden door for me to pull the two-wheeled rickshaw inside.
"But this bitch is not bad either, oh, she's an A slave, hehe." A hairy, rough hand wantonly kneaded my proud breasts, the thick fingers pulling on the nipple rings. The hairy centaur said when he saw the sex slave brand on my buttocks.
"Ah, um. Master, be gentle, dear daddy, don't pull on my nipple rings, my nipples are going to break~ hehe." I twisted my body excitedly, the aphrodisiac making me moan and beg like a bitch in heat.
Even the thick leather chastity belt between my legs couldn't stop the overflowing lustful fluid.
"Oh, as expected of an A slave from a brothel, just pinching your little nipples makes you wet! Do you want a man?" The hairy centaur rubbed his hand between my legs, then teased me with a grin.
"Ah, oh~" I moaned softly. Seeing my seductive eyes and wanton expression, the two hairy grooms quickly pulled me and the two-wheeled carriage to a secluded car wash. They unlocked my restraints and slammed me to the ground.
"What a disappointment, this slut can't open up down there." One of the hairy men tried to loosen the restraints on my wet vagina, but the magical locks wouldn't budge. "
Idiot, cut it with scissors!" the other hairy man said harshly.
"No, no!" As a sex slave, even though I was a lowly, wanton slave ridden by thousands, the restraints still represented the master's dignity. Only the master had the right to decide whether I could have sex.
If the restraints were broken, it meant I had been fucked, and the punishment would be either light or severe, downgraded to an S-class sex slave. The terrifying consequences gradually extinguished my lust.
I struggled frantically. Having just attended the lewd banquet, I knew about the life of an S-class sex slave—the aphrodisiac trials, the forced extreme mating, and so on. Just one experience could turn a stubborn woman into a submissive one, let alone being tortured
like this every day. But having lost my magic, I was just an ordinary human woman, no match for two hairy men as strong as gorillas. I only struggled for a short while before those thick hands gripped my fair, slender neck, shoving me into a wooden yoke in a car wash like a chick. Now I was bound,
my lewd ass sticking out. "Even a lamb can bite! This little bitch is pretty fierce. An A-slave, just someone to be fucked, what are you struggling for?" the hairy man said viciously, looking at my bitten wrist. Then I felt the tight restraints loosen, and the thick wooden penis slid out of my vagina. I knew it was too late; punishment upon returning was certain.
"So that's why you wouldn't let me take it off, you were having fun yourself. Let me show you a real big dick, haha." The hairy man muttered contemptuously as he saw the wooden dick and the fake dick sticking to it with white foam of vaginal fluid inside my chastity belt. Then he pulled down his pants, revealing his thick, black dick covered in bumps.
With a "squelch" of vaginal fluid, the thick, hot thing was inserted into my vagina. The feeling was completely different from the stirring of the wooden dick. It was a feeling of flesh intertwining with flesh in vaginal fluid, and the gentle swaying of the dick made me feel a tremor of life. Finally, the hot temperature of the dick ignited the lust I had been suppressing.
"Mmm, ah~, so good~" I couldn't help but moan after just one thrust. The bumps on the dick were constantly stirring the flesh inside my vagina that was wrapped around it. When the bumps slid through the deep crevices of my vagina, I touched a level of lust that neither human nor beastman dicks could reach.
"You were saying no just now, but now you're yelling 'it feels so good' the moment it's inside you. You're so incredibly slutty." The long-haired man humiliated me, seeing how I had resisted so fiercely just moments before,
but had become so docile and wanton the moment his penis entered me. "Ah, oh. Now that Daddy has loosened the little slut's morals, this bitch will definitely be punished when she gets back! Ah, so good, let her enjoy herself before she's tortured to death." I squinted and shamelessly moaned.
A stunningly beautiful blonde woman, her voluptuous buttocks raised, was chained to a low wooden yoke. A hairy centaur's penis was thrusting in and out of her wet, throbbing cunt. The blonde woman was drenched in fragrant sweat, her fair, writhing body glistening in the morning sunlight. The two had been making love for a long time; the woman, her mouth open and tongue lolling out, let out moans of "Ah, um" with each deep thrust of the hairy man.
Suddenly, the wooden yoke binding the woman's neck and hands creaked loudly. The woman, her neck bound, suddenly raised her flushed face high, her beautiful mouth wide open as if to speak, but no sound came out. The woman, her bare buttocks raised, and the hairy man thrusting into her cunt behind her, both trembled. Then, the hairy man withdrew his proud, large penis with satisfaction. The blonde beauty lay limp in the yoke like a puppet with its strings cut, barely able to move except for the occasional twitch of her waist.
Another hairy groom, seeing the woman's slippery, reddened vulva, let out a foolish laugh, then thrust his erect penis into the woman's still-flowing, semen-stained opening, giving the blonde woman no time to rest. A weak, protesting groan escaped her lips as she again arched her lewd buttocks to meet the rough, fleshy penis, only her moans shifted from excitement and urgency to helplessness and pain.
"Ouch, ouch," I groaned softly. The intense lust and the fluttering passion in my heart had completely dissipated, replaced by the pain of the hairy man's thick, granular penis grinding against my vaginal opening. Human female vaginas were never designed for hairy men with thick penises covered in fleshy bumps, especially with the continuous, forced intercourse, which was too much for the vagina that had been so intensely penetrated the night before. These two long-haired grooms, usually of low status, had clearly been bored for days, and I had become their plaything… The sun was high in the sky, and the thin mist over the grassland had dissipated. Outside a row of low burrows stood thick hitching posts, and a beautiful, naked blonde woman with nipple rings on her nipples was pitifully tied to one of them.
I resentfully raised my bare feet high, so that the nipple chains on my nipples wouldn't taut too much. After fucking me, these two damned long-haired grooms callously bound my hands behind my back, and my nipples were pierced with nipple chains and hung high on the hooks of the hitching posts. I had to straighten my body, my bare toes barely touching the ground, to prevent my nipples from being pulled painfully.
Watching the two long-haired men, who had just begun their marriage with me, cruelly abandon me and walk away, I sighed softly and helplessly. I don't hate those two hairy men. They might be good husbands and brothers, but who cares about me? I'm just an A-grade sex slave, a body that makes their penises feel good, a lowly sex slave who, even if fucked to death, only needs to accompany a sheep. Even the prairie horses in the stable are ten times more precious than me. But why do they treat me like this? Can't the pleasure they get from thrusting into my cunt be exchanged for a moment of rest? Must I endure the constant torment of pain unique to women?
I moaned softly. Nipples are the most precious and cherished part of every woman. I remember when I was in the Empire, the bras I wore were custom-made by royal tailors to fit my breasts and nipples. Even when my nipples became erect from stimulation, they wouldn't rub against the bra; instead, there was a special space for them to stretch and contract comfortably.
But after I was captured, those cold nipple rings were forever and viciously pierced through what used to be my most precious parts. Then they adorned me with all sorts of ornaments—nipple bells, nipple chains, even lead ingots—basically, they couldn't let me rest. Finally, during intense intercourse, countless rough or withered hands kept pulling and pulling. I felt my nipples were much longer than before, and I wondered if they would ever grow back… Just as I was struggling barefoot against the nipple chains tugging at my nipples, two people, one tall and one short, walked over, talking. They seemed to be arguing about something.
"Please, put me down!" I couldn't hold on any longer. The two hairy men had me hanging extremely high, and I had to tense every muscle to prevent my nipples from being pulled. But I quickly gave up. My legs, still trembling from the intercourse, and the tearing at my nipples were driving me crazy. Seeing someone coming, I desperately begged, thinking that I could just be fucked a few more times.
"Yeah, I knew Number 28 couldn't keep up with the production, but with the holiday season demanding such a rush, where are we going to find so many sources of milk?" a goblin wearing glasses complained.
"Hurrah~, what are we going to do? This surprise inspection was to ensure the milk supply. Number 28's body is already exhausted; if she can't keep up, we'll have to deal with her." a tall, hairy man said.
"It's all your fault for forgetting to turn off her breast pump that day. She's been pumping for three days straight, causing her to produce too much milk... Hey, I think I hear something over there?" the goblin wearing glasses said, perking up his ears. "
Oh, those guys in the cleaning team are messing with the milk slaves again. I'll have to report them and dock their pay later." the tall, hairy man said viciously, and the two of them quickened their pace toward me.
"Oh? An A-slave, do you know her?" the goblin looked up at me, then raised his bumpy little hand and stroked the sex slave brand on my sweaty buttocks.
"No, I don't know her. This naked mare is an outsider," the hairy man replied in a simple, honest voice.
"Don't touch me, it hurts! I was brought by the Tribunal, take me back quickly!" I couldn't stand the pulling on my nipples, and even more so the goblin's little hand sliding down my upturned buttocks to my vulva, pinching my large, fleshy labia. I commanded with some resentment.
"Haha, if you were brought by the Tribunal, then I am the High Priest of the Holy Race," the goblin said arrogantly, but out of caution, he still picked up a magic mirror and looked at the sex slave brand on my naked, lewd buttocks.
"A lowly, homeless, A-grade sex slave, naked and pulling a cart, destined to be a prostitute for eternity, living in a brothel that caters to sex slaves at night, averaging 10 clients a day for three days..." the goblin concluded, then he and the hairy man exchanged a glance and suddenly burst into laughter.
"What are you doing? Put me down!" I pleaded and threatened, but the hairy man's thick arms grabbed me and headed deeper into the factory... "I was brought by Lord Wugu Xie, waah~" I knew today was going to be bad, so I struggled and threatened desperately, but these two lunatics shoved a gag into my mouth to prevent me from talking nonsense.
"What about the brand on her buttocks?" the hairy man asked while still holding my twisting, naked body.
"Who cares about the life or death of an A slave? Even if we kill her, we'll only give her master a sheep or a silver coin. But as long as we complete the production task, we can all get 2 gold coins, 2!" the goblin with glasses said excitedly, rubbing his hands together.
In a semi-underground crypt, the kind of damp crypt where hairy people lived always had a lingering smell of urine. My legs were spread apart and I was tied to the torture bed with a thick leather strap, while the goblin and the hairy man were reporting something to an older hairy woman.
"Grandmother, please take a look at this. I think this woman has a great figure and smooth skin, and the water down there doesn't smell bad. She's a top-quality milk slave." The goblin's sharp voice came through the glasses.
"Hmm, you little rascal, you're always causing me trouble, but for the sake of the production mission, let me see this little slave." A voice that sounded like an old goat said.
Rough, calloused hands slowly reached towards my full breasts. I stared wide-eyed in horror at the large hand.
"Hehe, little slut, don't be afraid. Many A-grade sex slaves become milk slaves, which is similar to your punishment of being a prostitute for eternity, living by fucking every day. It's not like adding insult to injury." The old hairy man said slowly, seeing my uneasy eyes, while the goblin chuckled beside him.
"Ouch, it hurts. Stop!" I groaned softly as those large hands forcefully twisted off the brass rings on my nipples, pulling them out through the piercing nipple openings. Losing nipple rings was a serious crime for a sex slave, as they were instruments of torture inflicted on our guilty bodies. It seemed I would definitely be demoted this time, and tears welled up in my eyes at the thought.
"Hmm, the nipple openings on these nipples have ruptured the mammary glands. From now on, we'll have to use a breast pump to express milk," the old hairy man said, frowning as he skillfully squeezed my nipples.
"Grandma, which sex slave in a brothel doesn't wear nipple rings? As long as it doesn't affect lactation, it's fine," the bespectacled goblin said, climbing onto my torture bed, his gaze wandering back and forth between my slightly parted, bound thighs.
"We'll have to take another look," the old hairy man said, taking a stained glass bottle, pouring the oily liquid inside into his palm, and then his large hands fiercely grabbed at my soft breasts.
"Ah, ouch, it hurts, it hurts so much..." Those large hands were different from the usual caresses and fondling of my breasts by the trainers and clients. First, there was a series of irritating rubbings, and after my breasts warmed up, suddenly a large hand grabbed the base of my breast and began to pinch hard at the base of my full breast, as if searching for something.
"Ouch~" I cried out in pain. The strong fingers had successfully found a spot in my breast, causing me to scream in agony. Even in the brothel, wearing breast shackles and being whipped to move stones, I had never experienced such pain. It was a pain that spread throughout my entire body.
"Your mammary glands are quite developed. I see that the training in the brothel hasn't damaged this woman's breasts. However, long-term sexual intercourse has caused this little bitch, who is constantly leaking vaginal fluid, to have too much toxins in her body. There are some lumps in her breasts. Let me knead these lumps to dissolve them first," the old hairy man said, and then continued pressing down towards the nipple from the spot that had driven me crazy.
"Ouch, it hurts so much!" I writhed, my beautiful, fair body covered in a layer of cold sweat as if I'd been splashed with water. At this excruciating moment, I suddenly felt something hot rubbing against the sensitive flesh between my bound, spread legs. But all I could see was the old hairy man's enormous hand; I couldn't see who was rubbing against my lower body. Nevertheless, I protested by twisting my smooth, curvaceous waist.
The fingers squeezed my breasts slowly and forcefully, only crushing the hard lumps within my soft breasts with a sharp, piercing pain, like branding my armpits and ribs with a hot iron.
I remember the first time I cried out like that was during interrogation at the brothel, before I had been tamed as a sex slave. My vagina, still dripping with semen from being raped by orcs, was then confronted by an orc trainer who held a branding iron to my face. The question was bizarre: which orc had fucked me the most? I was filled with shame and indignation. The trainer then slowly moved the branding iron back and forth a few centimeters from my skin, the unbearable heat coursing through my body.
The orc holding the iron even placed the red-hot iron plate just centimeters from my vagina; the intense heat made my vagina writhe in pain and caused the orc semen to dry rapidly, emitting a foul odor. It even singed and curled my pubic hair—of course, I would have it before it was permanently removed, though I've almost forgotten what it feels like to stroke my pubic hair outside my vagina. However, I hadn't yet experienced the pain of a branding iron, so I wasn't intimidated. Then, amidst a series of burning sounds and screams, the brand was finally pressed against my soft armpit. That was my first surrender… The intermittent, excruciating pain reminded me of my time in the brothel. Of course, after surrendering, I randomly pointed to an orc and said he fucked me the best, only begging him not to brand me again. Finally, naturally, I was forced to bend over with my buttocks raised, wearing heavy neck shackles, handcuffs, and leg irons, while this orc fucked me again in front of everyone… An even more unbearable pain awakened my memories. I painfully shook my pretty face, my beautiful eyes wide open, sometimes pleading with the old hairy man, sometimes staring at those large hands that caused me so much pain. The pressing had become half pressing and half squeezing.
"Stop squeezing! Spare me! Ah~" I pleaded, feeling crushed breast tissue or something else flowing towards my nipples with the large hands, but it was also as if something was blocking it. The intense pain from the squeezing and the shameful sensation made me furrow my brows and wail incessantly. Back in the brothel, most of the tortures inflicted on my breasts were designed to arouse lust, and the remaining punishments of wearing 10-pound breast shackles were meant to force me to mate with pigs and dogs. As long as I submitted, the torture would naturally stop.
But today, no matter how much I begged, those large hands kept squeezing. With my nipples and labia pierced, my cunt swollen from being fucked, and my buttocks red from being whipped, I never imagined that a pair of large hands could cause me such unbearable pain. What made my heart race even more was that a rough tongue was constantly licking my clitoris. The surge of lust and the pain from the squeezing of my breasts caused my lower body to leak fluids continuously.
"Hmm, the nipple's blocked. Get some boar bristles," the old hairy man ordered. The bespectacled goblin reluctantly gave up teasing my labia and jumped down, opening a drawer and taking out three three-inch-long boar bristles.
"What are you going to do with three?" the old hairy man asked.
"This slut's cunt needs to be cleared up too," the bespectacled goblin said, handing two bristles to the old hairy man, while he himself took the last one and headed towards my vagina.
"No, I'll do anything you want, please don't do this. Ah~" I pleaded, usually this kind of pleading meant the torture was over in the brothel. Of course, the consequences of submission were also unbearable. Either I had to perform a striptease naked for the trainer, or I had to have sex with a large dog, or I had to lick the anus of the filthy orcs… But no one paid any attention to the pleas of a sex slave destined for prostitution. The old hairy man ruthlessly pushed the boar bristles into my nipple. I felt a sharp pain as something twisted and entered through my nipple, a sensation similar to my first anal sex. A place that shouldn't be penetrated was being penetrated, and all the muscles in my body tensed. That rough, foreign sensation ravaged my most vulnerable spot, and every tiny bit it penetrated my nipple made me tremble with pain. My nipples were so sensitive that I trembled with every twitch of the boar bristles. I bit my lower lip, watching as both bristles were halfway inside, leaving the other half erect on my breast.
“Little bitch, leave the bristles in your nipple for now. I'll use them in medicine later,” the old hairy man said, leaving my side and walking away.
Seeing the old hairy man leave, the goblin with glasses suddenly became active. I suddenly felt a sharp pain in my anus. Although I was bound to the torture bed with leather straps, I still tried my best to lift my pretty face. I saw the goblin slowly poking my anus with a boar bristle.
"No, no, that's my urethra. Ah~" Something was stimulating me upwards along my urethra, followed by a strong urge to urinate. Unlike the diuretics used in the brothel, this wasn't the kind of urge that had been building up for a long time. Instead, it was the fear of the door that was suddenly pounded open to control urination. I was even afraid that it had been damaged.
"It's flowing, it's flowing out, ah~" I wailed, and a stream of urine sprayed out, hitting the goblin's face.
"Damn it, you dirtied Ura's glasses. I'm going to punish you." The goblin angrily took off his glasses, carefully placed them aside, and then shouted at me.
"I'm sorry, you little slut deserve to die. Waaah~" In the brothel, I was fucked half to death almost every week by those somewhat dim-witted goblins. These little creatures were extremely cruel and tyrannical, and they especially enjoyed torturing naked human female prisoners.
"Hmph, let me show you the torture I inflict on my milk slaves." The goblin said, jumping up and straddling my chest, gently flicking the boar bristles stuck in my nipples with its two small hands.
"Oh~, ah~" I trembled as if electrocuted. The boar bristles inserted into my breasts were indeed churning my sensitive mammary glands, but it was still within a tolerable range. But the goblin's manual teasing, causing the bristles to churn inside, felt like a thousand ants biting inside my breasts, followed by an excruciating tingling. I'd rather sit in the wooden donkey and have that thick wooden rod pound my flesh, or be whipped by several orcs, than suffer this torment with something inserted into my nipples.
When the old long-haired man entered with two bottles, I let out a weary cheer. The goblin had already tormented me to the point of unconsciousness several times. I not only licked his glasses clean, but I licked his entire body, from his small penis to his filthy anus, clean like a docile lamb. But this damned goblin wouldn't let me go. He actually demanded to use pig bristles to penetrate my urethra, and I had to pretend to enjoy it, otherwise he would pluck the two pig bristles on my nipples... I was tortured by the goblin for almost an hour, my sweat and vaginal fluid almost soaking the entire torture bed. I really regretted not waiting for Tie Da to return at the hitching post. I would rather participate in that fancy parade, then bend over with my slutty ass and expose my cunt for a free treat, than be tortured here with my breasts being drained of some kind of mammary gland problem, and this was only the first step.
"Hmm, not bad, the nipples have been stretched wide." The old hairy man said with satisfaction after pulling the pig bristles from my nipples.
"Let me go, I am the woman designated by Lord Wugu Xie." I threatened at the last moment.
"I think he would prefer the milk you produce." The old hairy man said, then suddenly squeezed my breasts and squeezed hard, and two clear liquids that looked like slippery vaginal fluid spurted out. I stared in horror as my breasts began to gush forth milk… “Alright, the milk has been squeezed out, your milk ducts are cleared.” The old hairy man nodded in satisfaction, while I blushed crimson with embarrassment.
“I’m not married yet, I won’t have any milk.” I mustered my courage and said after seeing the old hairy man take out another pair of thin tweezers.
“You slut, you’re fucked by men all day long, and you still say you’re not married? Haha.” The old hairy man chuckled, then began to insert the thin tweezers into my nipple.
“Ah, no. I mean I don’t have any children yet, and I can’t have any. I’m not suited to producing milk, waaaaa.” I was about to explain when the old hairy man loosened the tweezers, and the open tweezers pried open my nipple, revealing a long, narrow opening.
“What are you doing? What are these?” I watched as the old man took out a medicine bottle and then a few tiny pills.
“Of course, it’s to give you medicine.” The old hairy man said.
"Don't put it in my nipples! Take it out!" I pleaded with the old man as he stuffed the tiny granules into my stretched-open nipples.
Then, ignoring my pleas, the old hairy man removed the tweezers and used a boar bristle to push the pills from my nipples deeper into my breasts… The other breast was treated in the same way. After completing the "medicine feeding" process, the old hairy man took out beeswax, lit it, and, ignoring my moans from the burns, completely sealed my nipples with wax.
"Alright, she can produce milk tomorrow. Oh, and make sure to feed her plenty of food and water today." After giving these orders, several hairy men untied me from the torture bed, put an iron collar around my neck, tied my hands behind my back, and dragged me out of the old hairy man's burrow.
"That house will be your home from now on," said the bespectacled goblin, pointing to a moss-covered burrow.
Opening the burrow door, an indescribable stench of filth, a woman's sweat, and semen assaulted my nostrils. The entire crypt contained eight chambers, each holding a naked woman, or rather, a female, imprisoned within. There were women with white skin, women with dark skin, and even a green-skinned female orc. Regardless of skin color, all the women were stripped naked, their buttocks protruding, their full breasts swaying, groaning in pain.
"Number twenty-eight?" a goblin, still adjusting to the crypt's dim light, called out.
"Ah~, dear father, I'll be producing milk tomorrow," a woman's weak voice said. She was emaciated, but compared to her thin body, her enormous breasts and thick nipples left me speechless.
All the women had iron shackles around their necks, forced to kneel in their chambers, their hands chained but able to move slightly. However, the chains were short; some women's chained hands couldn't even reach their nipples. What I didn't understand was that every woman was wearing eyeshadow, powder, and drawn eyebrows, her beautiful faces made up as if she were attending a banquet. However, those heavily made-up faces were full of misery, like the expression of a woman suffering from menstrual cramps.
"How about it? I've made everyone look beautiful, haven't I? The book says that you human women need to put on makeup to be happy. Look, I spend time every day putting on makeup for you sex slaves whose cunts are all blackened from being fucked, just so you can produce more milk. Number Twenty-Eight, I've mercifully called a doctor for you, and soon you'll be able to produce milk." The goblin with glasses said to Number Twenty-Eight with a grin.
"Thank you, dear father." The woman said weakly. Even in the dim light, I could see Number Twenty-Eight's clearly visible ribs.
As she spoke, several hairy men untied Number Twenty-Eight from her den and brought her out. Then they quickly pressed me into Number Twenty-Eight's den and locked my slender neck in an iron collar.
"No! I don't want to be a milk slave! I don't want to end up like her!" I continued my pointless pleas.
"No, no. We have great compassion for milk slaves. This number twenty-eight is just malnourished from being forced to suckle for three days. We've already deducted 10 copper coins from that employee's wages for the mistake. I can guarantee you'll all survive this winter, hmm, that's all." The goblin with glasses adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses and said.
"No, why did you let her take over my den?" Number twenty-eight cried out with her last strength as she saw me forcibly locked in her den.
"No, don't eat me! I'll be producing milk tomorrow. Please..." Number twenty-eight continued to plead, but she was still dragged out of the burrow by several strong, hairy workers.
"And you, all of you. In the end, you'll all be drained of milk and vaginal fluid, just like me, and then eaten. Hahaha." Number twenty-eight scanned the groaning woman in the room with her murky eyes, finally glaring at me and cursing.
The cave returned to silence, except for me, who shifted uncomfortably, adjusting to my new home and bed.
Each woman was forced to kneel or crawl in the crate, her large breasts drooping naturally—a position supposedly beneficial for milk production. My neck was bound in iron shackles, but my hands, though chained, still had some room to move, though I couldn't reach my anus or touch my nipples.
"Hey, newbie. Know the rules?" The green-skinned female beastman, also naked and with her buttocks raised, her large green breasts swaying, her prominent, deep red nipples erect, spoke to me in a rough, unfriendly voice.
"No," I replied bluntly. We were all imprisoned slaves; there was no need for me to curry favor.
"Number 28 is gone, so you're number 28 now. We're a production team; if anyone drags the team down, the whole team gets punished," the female beastman said, twisting her neck and giving my already full breasts a deep look before continuing.
"I'm already like this, what more punishment do you want?" she asked, looking at herself with her buttocks sticking out and her cunt exposed.
"Luckily you're still an A slave, these daddies have enough ways to torture you to fill a dictionary," the female beastman said.
"If you don't want the whole group to get bloated, then obediently produce milk and don't struggle." The female beastman finished speaking and then ignored me.
This was one of the few peaceful afternoons I'd had since being captured. I awoke heavily from my iron shackles. Sleeping naked amidst various instruments of torture was a unique skill of every sex slave, because those with weak minds generally couldn't endure more than a month in the brothel.
The simplest training in the brothel was to force yourself to sleep even when your vagina was burning with pain after being gang-raped. Otherwise, the next round of gang rape a few hours later would become extremely painful, and the body's exhaustion would prevent it from recovering, meaning your vagina wouldn't secrete enough nectar. As a result, your vagina would become even more swollen and red from the constant rubbing of the penises throughout the day. And the nightly tortures were specifically targeted at the breasts and vagina. So every sex slave who came out of the brothel could fall asleep while wearing iron shackles or even being hung up—or, as it could be called, a fainting spell of exhaustion.
The hellish journey left me constantly sleep-deprived. The physical exhaustion from the mare pulling the cart, coupled with the mental and physical torment of being paraded naked through the streets of every small town and then forced to work in the lowest-class brothels, left me with almost no time to think.
To think about the problems a woman, a prisoner of war, a sex slave sentenced to eternal prostitution should face.
Now I kneel naked in the den marked number 28, my nipples and breasts throbbing with a dull ache, I don't know if it's the hidden wound from the pig bristles seeping into my nipples or the effect of the medicine the hairy man put in my nipples. I groaned softly, tossed my golden hair bound in iron shackles, and forced my still relatively alert mind to forget the pain in my nipples and think about other things.
I've been captured for over 400 days, a mere one-twentieth of my life. Yet, these short 400 days have transformed me from an envied goddess, the empire's youngest female knight commander, the prince's fiancée, and the empire's most beautiful woman, into a naked, swaying prostitute, a child bride and maidservant to a dark-skinned child. Now, my nipples are injected with drugs, and soon I'll be producing milk for those lowly demons, just like these other milk slaves.
400 days have passed. Although my skin remains fair and my figure hasn't changed—I'm still a stunning woman—the labia of my vulva have become increasingly swollen. Even with my legs tightly closed, I can feel their enlarged state. This is a side effect of the aphrodisiac and excessive mating. Every female slave graduating from the brothel has enlarged labia; sometimes, this feature is more distinctive than the brand on my buttocks.
The large, deep red labia, which aroused the lust of many men but which I found ugly, were the most obvious marks of my 400 days as a sex slave. Of course, my nipples were also longer than before, a consequence of wearing nipple rings for so long. I remember my nipples used to be soft and retract into the areola, but now, no matter what, they stood erect, as if telling everyone who slept with me that I was a slutty woman.
However, while the physical changes caused me pain, the mental changes were even more unbearable. I had gradually adapted to this utterly undignified life of sex slavery. Those damned demons divided us human women into A, B, C, and S levels of female slaves according to their will, with different methods of torture for each level.
For example, C-level sex slaves can work during the day and return home at night, living with their parents, husbands, and even children. B-level sex slaves are professional prostitutes, but they can still earn a meager amount of silver coins from clients to buy themselves clothes and snacks, although they must mostly work naked. Both B and C-level sex slaves have time limits; once the time is up, they can revert to second-class citizen status, living freely even though they are looked down upon.
A-level and S-level sex slaves, however, are tragic. To the demons, these women are sinners who should be beheaded. But killing them would be too lenient. Therefore, A-level sex slaves, from the moment of trial, cannot wear any normal clothes. Even if their masters demand they wear them, they must expose their shameful female genitalia and nipples. Their food and quality of life are always at the lowest level.
In the words of a demon trainer who frequently had sex with me, "It's about making you sinful women have dicks thrusting into your cunts every day, bells hanging from your nipples, and even drinking semen tastes sweet." Moreover, an A-grade sex slave isn't allowed to stay in one place for more than three months. Poor women like me are forever wailing and screaming in the lowest-grade brothels in every city and town, until we're too old to stand, and then cruelly killed.
This was originally a perverse law established by the demon race, but after more than a year of training, I unconditionally accepted this A-grade sex slave status imposed upon me. I'd fear punishment for wearing normal clothes to cover my private parts, I'd be happy all day for enjoying a B-grade sex slave's lunch, I'd be extremely envious when I saw C-grade sex slaves going home after picking up clients, and I'd gloat when someone like Eileen became an S-grade sex slave and had their hands and feet cut off, and I'd subconsciously despise S-grade sex slaves, just as B-grade sex slaves despise us A-grade sex slaves. After
400 days of being a sex slave, I didn't receive the magic of revenge, but instead, I received despair and resignation. However, ever since Wu Gu Xie gave me the stimulant, I've been able to absorb magic from the demons' simple magical artifacts. After several days of continuous infusions, my body can now store four units of magic power, enough to cast a group illumination spell. Thinking of this, I smiled contemptuously, mocking my foolish idea of escaping with only four units of magic power. But it was still a hope; one day I would possess the magic of revenge, and I hoped I could live to see that day.
If I had known I would become like this before, I would have committed suicide when the magic disappeared. But now, I no longer have the courage to commit suicide. Sex slaves bound by a soul contract cannot commit suicide; they can only smile seductively, spread their beautiful legs, and endure the friction of one penis after another under their master's orders.
"Ah~, ouch~" The swelling pain in my breasts brought my thoughts to a halt. The increasingly painful, throbbing sensation made me groan in agony.
"Is anyone there? It hurts so much~" My resilient spirit had long been worn away by the whips and penises in the brothel; the intense pain made me plead.
"Stop whining, feeding will start soon. Go tell the keeper," the orc woman next to me said, swaying her enormous breasts.
"But, but it hurts so much here," I pleaded shyly.
"That's milk production, it's alright," a human female milk slave kindly said. "
Milk production is painful, you'll get used to it," another female milk slave said.
"Ouch, this is worse than torture," I groaned.
"Just accept your fate. Being a milk slave is worse than being a sex slave prostitute. Being fucked is better than this. You'll see when we milk," the orc woman said, sweating and enduring the pain in her breasts. Clearly, this female orc had never been a real sex slave prostitute, otherwise she wouldn't think that milk production was less comfortable than brutal gang rape.
Less than fifteen minutes later, several tall, hairy human women carrying sacks and buckets opened the wooden door of our crypt and came in.
"Oh, dear mother, it hurts!" I begged for mercy as soon as someone came in. This kind of breast engorgement is more unbearable for a woman than any other external torture. However, having been a prostitute for a year, I was better than other breast slaves because I was very open-minded. As long as I suffered, I would exaggerate and beg for mercy. There was at least a 50% chance that my master would reduce my punishment.
Speaking of punishments, having been trained for so long, I'd consider myself a semi-expert. The so-called tortures targeting women are divided into sharp and blunt torture. Sharp torture is generally used to extract information from women quickly or to force them to do something at a specific time; it's basically intense pain, like the nipple yoke, headband, and branding iron I was forced to wear when signing the magical slave contract—using sudden, intense pain to subdue women. Blunt torture, on the other hand, uses slow, agonizing pain or stimulation to torment a woman's mind, forcing her into submission. For example, making women carry stones naked with shackles on, or binding them in a fixed position. I think breastfeeding and engorgement are the most unbearable form of blunt torture.
The first six months in the brothel were mostly sharp torture, while the latter six months saw more blunt torture. Most sex slaves and prostitutes gradually changed their personalities due to blunt torture, becoming submissive prostitutes.
"Where does it hurt?" a hairy woman asked impatiently.
"My nipples hurt!" I shamelessly cried out.
"Oh, number 28, huh? Today's your first day producing milk. You're in for a rough time," the hairy woman said coldly.
A pile of what looked like dried beans was poured from a sack into the wooden feeding trough in front of my iron shackles, while another trough was filled with water. One of the hairy women untied the iron shackles around my neck.
"Aren't you going to untie your hands?" I asked, pulling the chains on my hands so they rattled.
"If I untie them, what will you do when you milk yourself? You should know that the milk in your breasts belongs to the company, not you," the hairy woman said mockingly.
"Eat up, or I'll force the rest down your asses in half an hour," the hairy woman threatened, closing the door and leaving.
Having been trained to obey orders, I could only lower my pretty face and stretch my beautiful neck like a pig or a dog, rooting around for the beans. The beans were very dry, with a faint salty bean and peanut flavor, which was quite a delicacy for me after not having eaten meat for days.
The entire room was filled with the rustling sounds of female slaves eating beans and gulping down water. If it weren't for the occasional groans from women, the sounds would have sounded like pigs eating in a sty. Having not had a proper meal for days, I still finished all the food within the allotted time. It was clearly a lot of food, and after drinking the water, the beans made my stomach quite bloated, causing my otherwise healthy belly to swell slightly.
"Ouch, ouch." After the hunger subsided, the pain in my breasts intensified, and I groaned softly with my hands closed. Usually inseparable from a penis, I was overcome by waves of lust, and my pert buttocks began to sway slowly. Soon, all eight female slaves locked in the room began to groan in pain, whether from the pain in their breasts or the emptiness in their vaginas… "Lulu lulu~, lulu lulu~, time to milk!" A long-haired woman carrying a large bucket called out as she entered. Hearing her call, the female slaves' groans of breast pain turned into rapid breathing.
"Who's new here? Number 28? Lululu~" the hairy woman called out. I raised my pretty face, my delicate brows slightly furrowed, looking at this poor, toothless woman in a tattered apron. I utterly loathed that "lululu~" calling sound; to us humans, that sound was used to summon pigs.
"Dear Mom, I'm Number 28~ Hehe." I replied with a fawning smile. Even with my extreme disgust, I still felt as humble as a little bitch towards those high and mighty handlers.
"You look so young, is this your first time producing milk?" the hairy woman asked.
"Yes...yes." I continued with a smile.
"Were you a virgin before becoming a sex slave?" the hairy woman asked, placing a large bucket under my breasts while stroking my bare back with her rough hands.
"No, yes, my little slave's breasts are so swollen, please, dear mother!" I pleaded, looking at the old, long-haired woman, hoping she would finish her work first instead of bombarding me with questions. I didn't want to answer any of the questions I had before my capture, because it would make me feel ashamed of the contrast, so I gave random answers. Actually, before I was captured, I had already had sexual experience with at least two men.
"Hehe, according to the rules. On our grasslands, cows produce milk because they have calves, but what's the point of a childless young woman like you producing milk? Drinking your milk will bring bad luck. So, the first time we milk women like you, who have been sentenced to be milk slaves by the Holy Race, there has to be a ceremony." The long-haired woman said as she rubbed my erect nipples with her fingers, and I felt as uncomfortable as someone rubbing my tender nipples with rough wood.
"Sam, come in, this little heifer has to be milked according to the rules of our Wanda tribe." With the long-haired woman's call, a strong long-haired man walked in. My eyes were fixed on the long-haired man the moment he entered, a mixture of fear, curiosity, and anticipation... "First time milking? We have to milk while having sex. It's your misfortune to produce milk before marriage. To avert your milk-producing curse, we'll stuff a piece of cow placenta into your cunt. After Sam fucks you, the placenta will fall out, and that'll be considered marriage and childbirth. Then you can drink the milk." The long-haired woman finished speaking in a declarative tone, then took a piece of placenta, about the size of a thumb, from her leather pouch and stuffed it into my vagina, without ever asking how I felt.
"Oh, look at your cunt, how many men has it served before? It's gotten so dark." Under the long-haired woman's sarcasm, I felt a cool, greasy substance slide into my vagina.
"Suck it, that's your child, hahaha, look at your big black cunt, how many men have fucked you? Was it like this before you became a slave? I won't milk you if you don't tell me~" the older, hairy woman asked sarcastically, and I blushed with shame. Compared to recalling my past aristocratic life, I was more reluctant to talk about my child, because female slaves in the brothel, who were only there for men to mate with, could not give birth. This was also part of the demons' judgment of me. But what kind of woman is she if she can't have children?
"I, I don't know either, dear mother," I said, shaking my head and tears streaming down my face. Even though I was in pain, my expression was still a seductive smile, an expression my trainers had cultivated with countless whips and tortures... My inner pain needed to be released, and soon the hairy woman named Sam satisfied me. When he revealed his thick, granulated, enormous penis, my shame and regret vanished. With the first "squelch" sound of my juices rubbing against his penis, my heart was instantly filled.
"What a slut, too. It's a waste to keep her here producing milk. She should be sent to the city to parade naked through the streets every day, then get fucked on the roadside," the hairy woman said with a hint of jealousy, while roughly squeezing my breasts. The hairy woman was right. I was originally the lowest-class prostitute; fucking was my life, and producing milk was just an interlude.
Waves of pleasurable lust washed over me, and as the granules on that thick penis ground against every crevice of my vagina, I moaned with pleasure. However, at the hairy woman's urging, the hairy man quickly slowed down his thrusting. I twisted my buttocks in dissatisfaction, anticipating the hairy man's favor. But what awaited me was the pain of my breasts being squeezed dry.
I remember that when we noblewomen gave birth, they rarely produced their own breast milk. We could use alchemical potions to make ourselves feel like young women who hadn't been pregnant, enjoying the pleasures of life as if we were still alive. The breast milk for those babies was usually provided by wet nurses from middle-class families. Of course, there were also women who produced their own milk for their children, and those were usually the talk of the town in aristocratic circles. For example, a certain marquis might have sacrificed herself for her child, personally breastfeeding him.
However, such noblewomen at least have two professional female lactation consultants serving them, providing meticulous care for the breasts of lactating mothers. I visited a cousin who, being a noblewoman, was breastfeeding. I saw her not-so-full breasts being gently massaged by the lactation consultant, like the most precious jewels in time… But I am no longer a noblewoman. My current identity is that of an A-grade sex slave prostitute, judged by the demons to be a prostitute for eternity. By a twist of fate, I was forced to produce milk from a cow. In the eyes of that hairy woman, my breasts were not jewels, but two fleshy sacs full of milk. Those rough, large hands kneaded from the base to the nipple, the force so great that I forgot the huge penis thrusting into my vagina.
"Ouch, ouch, ouch, ah~" When I was crying out in the most pain, that hairy man would always thrust deeply into my vagina, making my painful cries sound different.
I felt my spirit was being torn apart, on one side the pain in my breasts and on the other side immense pleasure.
This feeling could only be inflicted upon me by seasoned trainers in a brothel. I knew the consequences, so I desperately tried to control myself.
I saw my breasts deform, dripping droplets of milky yellow liquid, which eventually became a trickle. Because my nipples were pierced with nipple rings, the milk sprayed outwards through the holes. And with each violent thrust of the male long-haired man, my milk would sometimes surge and sometimes flow gently… This milk was meant to feed my children, to feed the successor of the empire. But now, the mother of the successor was being fucked by the long-haired man while dripping that precious milk into a huge, filthy wooden tub. This milk would be made into cheese and eaten by the lowest of men. Thinking of this, my shame, the pain in my breasts, and immense pleasure intertwined… “Ah~” I cried out wantonly, my sweat-drenched buttocks trembling uncontrollably, waves of orgasm crashing over me.
"Hehe, Sam, fuck me harder, this little slut will squirt milk herself soon~" The hairy woman grinned, revealing her yellow teeth, and said to Sam, who was probably her son, while releasing her large hand that had been tightly gripping my full breasts.
"No, ah~ ah~" My pretty face flushed red with shame. I didn't want this ugly hairy woman to see me reach orgasm, and I didn't want her to see me squirting milk. But the immense humiliation, coupled with Sam's several deep thrusts, made me unable to control my body.
Being squeezed for milk while being fucked brought me to an indescribable, shameful climax, the kind only found in brothels. My body tensed uncontrollably and twisted with each deep thrust of the hairy woman's thick penis. Then, amidst the moans of climax, a trembling of pleasure spread from my vagina throughout my body. When this pleasure reached my breasts, a trickle of milk automatically spurted from my deep red nipples, flowing into the abyss-like wooden tub. The spurting of milk also produced another kind of pleasure, making my orgasm even more intense.
"No~" I couldn't believe that milk would spurt out on its own during an orgasm. How lewd and degrading this was! I could endure the lewdness of being imprisoned, but the sight of producing milk without having children, and then being fucked until it spurted out, filled me with shame. My body was truly lewd. Just as I was filled with shame and indignation, the hairy man's penis plunged deep into me once more, making my orgasm even more frenzied. Milk from both breasts spurted out rhythmically with each thrust of his penis.
"Look, I've milked so many milk slaves. Most women, when they're happy from being fucked, will only let out a few drops; but you, you're like a wild spring in summer, gushing endlessly. Do you think your nipples are a man's thing?" the hairy woman mocked, and I lowered my blushing face in humiliation.
When Sam's penis was pulled out, the bright red cow placenta slid out of my writhing vagina along with Sam's semen. The hairy woman picked up the placenta and muttered to herself, "This little heifer is married and has given birth; her wanton milk will nourish us until she dies of exhaustion!" While I was being fucked half to death, the hairy woman took the large wooden bucket containing my milk and began milking the other milk slaves in the den. I watched in shame as the precious milk that had just flowed from my breasts mixed with the milk of the other milk slaves, eventually turning into a thick, pale yellow milky liquid that sloshed in the wooden tub… My empty vagina, empty breasts, and my vacant gaze fixed on the wooden door outside the den—the hairy woman had finished milking all the women, leaving the milk slaves imprisoned inside. We groaned, panted, and waited for the next milking session; perhaps this was the rest of my life as a female slave.
“Clang clang~” “It’s time for the heifers to exercise~” After what seemed like an eternity, several gong sounds woke me from my drowsy state after milking. The milk slaves inside the den emitted painful groans.
“What exercise? Is it intercourse again?” I asked as the hairy woman and the goblin unlocked our shackles.
“You haven’t made any special contributions, have you? No way you can enjoy yourself!” the hairy woman said gruffly as she unlocked my neck.
"Only the top three milk producers in this nest get to enjoy their fathers' penises," the female orc milk slave coldly explained to me as the hairy man bound her hands behind her back.
"Being fucked is a reward?" I blurted out. But all I got in return was a few hard slaps from the hairy man onto my bare, round buttocks.
After the neck locks were removed, the eight of us milk slaves were forced to stand in a line. Our hands were tightly bound behind our backs. Then the lecherous goblin took a thin metal chain and threaded it through the copper rings on the left labia of each of the eight women. Of course, the goblin's fleshy little hands flicked each woman's clitoris to enjoy their lewd moans. Then the copper rings on the right labia were threaded through another chain. The women who came out of the brothel basically had rings pierced on their labia. Some stubborn female slaves even had four rings pierced on each labia. Even those without labial rings had holes that could be used to insert rings at any time. This was a punishment for each woman's mistakes, such as crying instead of continuing to writhe when she was exhausted from being fucked, or avoiding the nipple cangue when it was put on. No woman could withstand the torture in the brothel without breaking down, so every female slave had holes pierced on her labia... My hands were tied behind my back, and my labia were connected to the labia of two female slaves in front of and behind me. I groaned softly, a habitual action I had before being tortured.
The female slaves lined up in a row. The first slave, driven by the goblin whip, began to walk towards the door. Then, I felt a tugging sensation on my labia and was forced to follow the slave in front of me. I only managed to take a few steps faster before being forced to slow down again because of the tugging on my labia by the slaves behind me. I walked on, my brows furrowed and my teeth clenched, enduring the excruciating pain.
Only female slaves who had worn clitoral rings knew the feeling of their labia being pulled. The labia were somewhat as delicate as lips, yet also as thin as earlobes. A tug or two wouldn't hurt, but prolonged pulling would create a cumulative pain. Moreover, the labia were connected to the clitoris, so the painful tugging would also stimulate the clitoris. One form of torture in the brothel involved pulling the labia apart and gently scraping the inside of the labia with a tool similar to a comb coated with aphrodisiac. The slight pain combined with the pulling of the clitoris would cause the female slave to start producing vaginal fluid. Initially, this continued until the fluid started flowing, gradually increasing to a small dish of fluid from the second to the seventh day, and finally to a small bowl of fluid on the thirtieth day. This was a basic form of torture in the brothel, designed to continuously stimulate the female slave's genitals to keep them aroused until it became a habit of constant vaginal discharge. The prolonged forced intercourse also aimed to cultivate this habit of vaginal discharge to prevent excessive wear and tear on the genitals. I was so tormented by this torture that vaginal fluid flowed incessantly whenever my labia were pulled apart.
Beyond the den was a square filled with trampled grass, mud, and sewage. I saw women with full breasts and joined labia, just like us, emerging from the dozen or so dens surrounding the square.
They were all wearing red lipstick and eyeshadow, as if this humiliating torture were a banquet.
The afternoon sun wasn't strong, but it still made the rows of naked female slaves appear stark white. Of course, these "exercise" slaves included female beastmen and dark-skinned women, but white-skinned women still made up the majority, and their buttocks bore shocking branding marks of their status.
"Ten squats and frog jumps!" The goblin with glasses seemed to be an official, and under his command, the female slaves groaned and cried out as they were forced to squat and jump in the muddy, sewage-filled square. Behind each group of slaves followed a goblin or hairy man wielding a whip. The goblin with glasses sat comfortably in a chair under a parasol, savoring cheese made from the milk that had just flowed from our breasts.
Long-term lactation had made these slaves' breasts extremely developed; I think even a B-cup woman would be stimulated to reach a C-cup, let alone us E-cup slaves. Perhaps they made us squat and jump just to see the way our beautiful breasts bounced up and down.
Sure enough, as the female slave in front of me squatted down, I was forced to squat down as well, the painful pulling on my labia caused by the tugging. The female slave behind me was a little slow to react, causing us both to groan simultaneously from the pulling. Then, because I jumped too early, I and the others cried out again from the pulling on
my labia due to the tugging. Of course, because my groans were too loud, my beautiful buttocks were whipped a few more times by the goblin's leather whip. "Ah, it hurts! Hurry up!" "Slow down! It hurts so much!" The women kept panting and complaining, being driven to frog jump, but not one of them dared to complain or hate the goblins who connected their labia and forced them to frog jump. Perhaps this is the feeling of being born lewd and destined to be a prostitute, branded on my buttocks.
Mist rose from the grassland because of the sunlight, and the mist transformed into a beautiful seven-colored rainbow because of the sunlight. This kind of scenery is unique to the Deep Green Province. A year ago, standing atop the White Jade Pagoda in Yinma City, I first witnessed this beautiful sight and was filled with awe at the wonder and vibrancy of life. But a year later, when I saw this beautiful rainbow in the mist again, I was naked and vulnerable; my buttocks were branded with the words "by nature promiscuity, punished to be a prostitute for eternity"; I had just been forced to produce milk without ever having given birth; now, chained to my labia, I was forced to hop like a frog on the muddy grass alongside a line of women who had suffered the same fate as me; and at that moment, how could I possibly appreciate the beauty of this deep green province?
[The End]

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Breast slave life

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