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For a list of all the Devil’s Pact Chapters and other stories click here

This is a revised version of the story that I published on Smashword starting back in 2014. It is rewritten with much-added material. However, I did have to age up some of the characters so no one is underage in this version.

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Click here for Servants’ Tales, Chapter 6.

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The disobedience of Sister Cuntrag continued, much to our God’s consternation. ‘If she continues in her defiance of my will like an ungrateful beast, then I shall treat her as one.’ So Mark placed a collar about her throat, dog ears upon her head, and inserted a butt plug into her rectum adorned with a dog’s tail. Then, offering his hand to his Goddess, he walked Sister Cuntrag like a bitch and forced her to perform many humiliating acts. The will of Sister Cuntrag was finally bent to our Gods, and she submitted.

“Make of me your slut,” she begged.

By virtue of our Gods love and compassion, she was transformed from the foul Nun who dared oppose Them into Karen, the Holy Slut.

—Gospel of April 14:34-37

May 21st, 2052 – Sarai Saqqaf – Delhi, District of Southeast Asia

I contemplated my favorite passage of the Gospel of April as I knelt in the Shrine of the Forgiven. The statue of Karen that graced the holy site was sculpted of the finest marble. The artist had captured the Holy Slut’s beautiful countenance. Every time I stared at it, I remembered our passionate affair that weekend forty-years ago in a hotel in SeaTac, Washington. She was a Nun then, going by the name Sister Louise Afra. She was tricked into opposing the Gods.

But they forgave her and named her Karen.

She was the first woman to ever dominate me. She took my maidenhead in the bathroom an airplane flying from Chicago to SeaTac. I had been a stewardess then. Karen taught me to accept who I was, to embrace my lesbian passions and forget my misguided, Muslim beliefs.

Not long after, I met Diane at this lesbian nightclub in my home town of Tacoma. The Clam Diver pulsed with sapphic delight. She realized what I was, a submissive looking to be dominated. One afternoon in her apartment, she made me her slave while Via, consort to the God’s sister, watched.

Diane rose high in the Theocracy thanks to her friendship with the Goddess. The Divine Mary granted my owner the Archdiocese of Southeast Asia. Diane became the ecclesiastical head of the Living Church in the region, one step beneath the twin High Priestesses in power of the clergy.

Over the years, my owner made it her passion to collect other slaves besides me. Special women, trained by me, who all worshiped and pleased her. Every last one were bastard daughters of the God Mark, one of the hordes of children his Divine Seed fathered across the world. I followed the teachings of the Gospel of April, the Slave Chronicles, and the Epistle of Xiu to break in each girl and bend her to my Mistress’s desire.

“Madam,” a gentle voice whispered.

I turned to the two kennel slaves kneeling before me. Jordan Smilingfox—a cinnamon-skinned beauty with raven black hair—and Akane Mirai—all delicate perfection with almond-shaped eyes and a porcelain face—stared up at me with adoration. They were my personal bitches, given to me by Diane out of gratitude for my decades of loyal service. They wore dog collars about their necks, headbands with dog ears on their heads, and butt plugs adorned with dog tails buried into their assholes.

Just like Holy Karen.

“Yes?” I asked, annoyed that they interrupted my devotion.

“Mistress commands your presence at the mansion, Madam,” Akane said, her tone smooth as honey.

My anger melted away. I petted her hair. She beamed at me then rubbed her cheeks against my thigh. The pair were my favorite slaves and numbered among the best I’d ever trained. I gathered their leashes, needing to obey the summons. They crawled before me, their cute asses wagging their tails back and forth. As we moved through the large Church, worshipers and clergy bowed to me, save for those couples or threesomes writhing in pleasure, worshiping the Living Gods with physical acts of love.

I bowed back, drinking in the gasps and moans echoing through the temple, loving the sight of nubile priestesses in their gauzy, pink robes, their naked forms bleeding through. Many of the worshipers were nude, aroused by the sex around them, eager for the worship orgy to begin.

Outside, Lily Klerk and Miranda Peck waited with my rickshaw. They were ponygirls, horse-tailed butt-plugs shoved up their asses. They wore their hair long, falling like manes down their naked backs. Harnesses covered their bodies, leather straps wrapping about toned thighs and bouncing tits. They were attached to the rickshaw, acting as my mounts.

“Madam,” they both murmured, shifting, their boots rasping.

I nodded to them while my dog-bitches cupped their hands to form steps. I mounted into my rickshaw and settled down onto the padded seat. I picked up the riding crop and flicked it with skill.

SMACK! SMACK!

I landed two hard blows on my ponygirls’ asses. They both gasped as fresh, red welts appeared. Then, giggling, they pulled my rickshaw at a jog while my bitches ran alongside. My doggy sluts scampered with joy on their faces, their breasts bouncing.

My pussy grew so wet. I loved being served by my ponygirls and doggy whores.

The busy streets of Delhi cleared before us. Citizens bowed, recognizing someone important passed—only Diane and her servants used a ponygirl rickshaw. I glanced a them, nodding my heads at them, giving them encouragements. I could tell their professions based on how they dressed: janitors in charcoal coveralls, government workers in gray suits and ties, nurses in red scrubs and doctors in blue. Everyone was happy. It was the Gods Final Commandment: “Find fulfillment and joy in whatever job, spouse, or home the Theocracy selects for you.”

The only real choice a person made was sexual slavery. Only the most beautiful young women or handsomest young men were allowed that choice. Sex slaves were a symbol of status. If you worked hard at your job and rose high, you could bid on a slave, the only use for money left in the world.

Spouses would often pool their money to afford to buy their first slave.

My ponies made good time with encouragement from my whip licking their cute asses. They had a nice sheen of sweat on their tanned skin. Both were blonde, their hair lightened by decades in the sun. Along with Hannah, the two girls numbered among Diane’s earliest purchases.

My pussy clenched every time I smacked a flexing rump. My thighs were sticky with my excitement as they approached our Mistress’s palace. They pulled my rickshaw up the hill, welted asses swaying, horsetails swishing.

CRACK! CRACK!

They groaned and gasped. They reached the top of the hill and reached the entrance to my owner’s palace. A pair of bodyguards—women in navy-blue, police uniforms consisting of low-cut blouses and too-short skirts—flanked the open gates. The members of the bodyguards were gifts from the Living Gods, the only women, beside my Mistress herself, at the palace who wasn’t owned by Diane.

“You did good,” I praised when we reached the palace’s stables a few minutes later. I stepped off the rickshaw into my cupped hands. “Excellent time.”

My ponygirls beamed at me. I produced sugar cubes and held them in my palms. Both girls licked them up and chewed on them. They both beamed at me while my doggy sluts worked on unharnessing them.

“Thank you, Madam,” Lily said when she finished with her sugar cube.

“You’re welcome, slut.” I kissed her on the lips and fondled her welted ass, our tongues dancing. She whimpered against me, trembling.

Then I turned to Miranda and captured her lips. Slaves always needed to be rewarded when they did good. I savored the sweet taste of the sugar on her lips. She quivered against me, our breasts rubbing together.

“You two have earned an afternoon of delight,” I told them after breaking my kiss Miranda.

“Thank you, Mistress!” they breathed together.

I marched them through the kennel to their cell, passing other cages were other slaves lounged. Miranda and Lily were a breeding pair, their two daughters also served as ponies. Mistress allowed Lily gain clit she could transform into a futa-cock. The moment the girls were locked in their cell, Lily’s dick grew, thrusting from the folds of her shaved pussy.

I shuddered, wanting to stay and watch the girls make love, but Diane awaited.

I left behind the kennels and passed through the sculpted grounds of the palace. Slave-gardeners worked, looking so cute with their dog tails swaying behind them as they trimmed hedges or mowed lawns. I passed into the main house through a wide, open doorway. The shade was cool and the wind stirred through the corridors, providing relief from the warm day. I marched on the marble floors, boots ringing, until I reached the ornate doors.

I drew in a deep breath and knocked.

“Enter!” a commanding voice ordered.

The doors creaked. I stepped into my owner’s study. Diane sat at chair behind her desk, working on papers. She had several shelves covered in books, old ones from before the Theocracy. One corner of the room was given over to disciplining her slaves. It held a spanking bench with straps to hold down an unruly girl. It sat before a pegboard from which hung a selection of whips, crops, and paddles; her favorite toys.

As I approached the desk, I could see the rear of one of the cat girls thrusting out from the side of the desk. She must be licking Diane’s feet. The cat-girls were the house-slaves. They wore cute, kitten ears and had cat-tail butt plugs. Their collars had little bells on them that tinkled as they frolicked around the house. They didn’t sleep in the kennels; instead, the five of them would find a room and sleep in a pile of naked flesh.

Quietly standing in the corner behind Diane’s desk was a nervous, coffee-skinned girl. She had thick, curly, black hair that piled about her shoulders, her tits round and plump. She had a curvy figure, hips lush. She was naked and looked nervous, her body’s trembles jiggling her tits. She looked eighteen, just legal.

“There you are, my pet,” Diane purred.

I fell to my knees, my two bitches heeling me. “You summoned me, Mistress?”

“This is Gardenia. My newest slave. I want her trained as a bitch.”

“Of course, Mistress.” I needed no more instruction. Diane expected her orders carried out with prompt eagerness. I rose and marched over to a shelf holding various accouterments for slaves to wear. I found a dog collar and leash.

Perfect.

“You are Gardenia?” I asked when I stepped before the new slave. I stroked her trembling face. “Well, answer me?”

“Yes,” she muttered with a sullen scowl. Diane had a knack for finding girls that were less than enthusiastic about becoming slaves.

“Yes, Madam,” I corrected, my tone stern. “Fail to address me properly, and you shall be disciplined. Fail to obey my commands promptly, and you shall be disciplined. Fail to perform satisfactory, you shall be disciplined. Understand?”

“Yeah, uh, Madam,” she said squirming.

I thrust the collar into her naked breasts. “From now on you are a bitch, and bitches wear their collars at all times.”

She eyed it then blinked at me stupidly.

Irritation flared. “Put the collar on, Gardenia!”

She shook her head. I could feel Diane’s eyes staring at me, judging me.

I snapped a finger. “Bitches!”

Jordan and Akane swept past me and seized the girl’s arms.

“Let me go,” she shouted, struggling in my bitches’ grasp.

The doggy-slaves grappled with the girl—I loved the way her young breasts bounced and heaved—as they dragged her towards the spanking bench. My bitches were strong, they exercised daily, and easily manhandled the new slave towards her punishment.

“No, no, please!” Gardenia moaned, her head tossing back and forth. “I’m sorry!”

“You didn’t obey,” I said as my doggy-slaves bent the struggling girl over the hard wood of the bench.

Gardenia yelled and spat as they yanked her arms forward and strapped leather cuffs about her wrist. Chains lead to the feet of the bench’s heavy legs.. Then my slaves strapped her knees to bench’s sides, forcing her legs to be spread wide apart. I licked my lips, staring at the girl’s exposed pussy covered in a tangle of black, silky pubic hair.

What a delicious bush.

“The paddle,” Diane ordered from the desk. “Twenty spanks.”

I glanced over and smiled. The cat-girl—I saw it was Annie—had her face buried between Diane’s thighs. I couldn’t see, but I knew the cat-girl worked her tongue through Diane’s pussy, stimulating her. Hunger burned in my Mistress’s face as she watched.

She loved witnessing a slave being disciplined.

My own pussy growing hotter and hotter from the slave’s defiance, I strutted around the slave bench to the beg board, drinking in my options of paddles. I selected one made of hard, unyielding oak. It was stained dark with holes drilled in the wood. I gave it test swing, the air whistling through the holes.

Perfect.

I moved to the disobedient slut. My kneel slaves, kneeling on either side, gave me eager grins, their eyes twinkling in delight. Gardenia struggled more, her eyes wide as she saw the paddle. Her dark ass begged to be kissed.

“Please, please, I’m sorry!” the girl moaned.

CRACK!

“Holy shit!” Gardenia gasped as the pain surged through her. She bucked, rattling the chains. “Oh, my fucking god, that hurt!”

“Wrong!” I barked. “What do bitches say?”

“I don’t know,” the slave wailed. “Please, please, I don’t.”

CRACK!

She bucked again, her voice strained. I waited for the words, eager to hear them. But she didn’t say them. Would she figure it out? Akane then leaned in. She licked up Gardenia’s cheek to the slut’s ear. The girl shivered and whimpered.

Akane whispered, “You should have said, ‘Thank you, Madam, this bitch needs nineteen more spankings.’ You count down, okay. From twenty, since Mistress ordered that many.”

SMACK!

Red tinged Gardenia’s dark bottom, her cheeks jiggling. I shuddered, loving it. Such heat burst through my pussy. I wanted to rub myself. I gripped the handle as I almost swooned from the joy of spanking this slut.

“Thank you Madam,” she said, her voice thick with pain, “this b-bi…” Her tongue snarled around the word.

“You can do it,” encouraged Jordan, her voice sweet. “Just admit what you are… A bitch!”

“We’re bitches, and we love it,” Akane purred.

Like good cop/bad cop from TV shows and movies, I was the harsh mistress and Jordan and Akane the gentle slaves. They whispered and cooed into her ear as I drew back my paddle, gripping the handle tight.

Diane watched.

SPANK!

“Thank you, Madam. This b-bitch needs seventeen more spankings,” she sobbed, her hips wiggling.

“Wrong!” I smacked her ass with my bare hand. Her right asscheek glowed red. I groped her, feeling the heat of her punishment. “You start the count at the beginning. You don’t get to skip ahead.”

CRACK!

“Thank you, Madam,” Gardenia spat out, her head rising. “This bitch needs nineteen more spankings.”

“Good job,” Akane murmured. “Just like that.”

“You’re doing wonderful,” Jordan moaned.

I switched to her left cheek, landing a hard blow. My pussy clenched as the cracking sound echoed through the room. Diane purred her delight, her chair creaking as she shifted around behind me.

“Thank you, Madam!” Gardenia gasped. “This bitch needs… uh… eighteen more spankings!”

My paddle whistled then cracked on her ass. Her butt-cheeks jiggled and her hips wiggled as she strained against the bonds. Gardenia sobbed her count. I drew back and smacked the paddle on her rump again.

The stinging sound echoed around me. It mixed with Gardenia’s gasps of pain as she felt her punishment. I licked my lips, my heart thudding in my chest. I glanced at Diane. My Mistress gripped a handful of Annie’s fiery hair and ground the slave’s face into her cunt. Pleasure crossed my Mistress’s face.

My own pussy burned, a flood of juices trickling down my thighs. I needed to cum. I wanted it so badly. I ached for my satisfaction right now, but it had to wait until I was done administering the slave’s punishment.

CRACK!

SMACK!

CRACK!

Gardenia’s ass grew brighter and brighter, her squeals louder and louder. Tears ran down her face, making my cunt wetter. It took all my training, all my devotion to Diane, not to frig my cunt right now. Not to satiate myself.

My Mistress had no such restraint. Her moans grew louder and louder as I administered the discipline. Then she gasped out in the unmistakable sounds of her orgasm, cumming on the cat-girl slave’s hungry mouth.

I glanced at Diane while raising the paddle. Her head tossed back and forth, her ringlets of black hair dancing about her face, caressing her fair cheeks. She bucked and heaved. My pussy clenched in such envy.

“Spank the bitch!” she hissed.

“Yes, Mistress!” I moaned.

My arm snapped down. The air whistled.

CRACK!

“Thank you, Madam!” screamed Gardenia, the words bursting from her mouth with no hesitation. “This bitch needs three more spankings!”

The words made me swoon. Every time she said them, she came closer and closer to believing them. Into accepting just what she was now. I shuddered, my arm lifting, my eyes locked on her jiggling asscheeks darkened by her punishment.

My pussy burned for a woman’s licking tongue.

SMACK!

“Thank you, Madam! This bitch needs two more spankings!”

The ache in my clit burned, beckoning for my fingers to provided soothing relief. I fought against that naughty desire, my hand white-knuckling the polished handle of the paddle. Diane’s moans gasped again, another orgasm crashing through her.

CRACK!

“Thank you, Madam! This bitch needs one more spanking!”

I wanted to rub my cunt on her burning ass. To just grind my clit on it and get the satisfaction in needed.

SMACK!

I acted a moment later, consumed by my need to cum. I hiked my skirt, exposing my shaved pussy. Juices dribbled down my thighs. The tart scent of my hot pussy filled my nose. I mounted her rump, grinding my juicy cunt on her tender ass.

“Oh, no!” whimpered Gardenia, her rump shaking beneath me as I ground the aching petals of my pussy on her burning rump.

“Oh yes,” I sighed as I massaged my pearl into her pliant flesh. I smeared my cream across her flesh, an ointment to soothe her burning ass she soothed my molten cunt.

She gasped and groaned as I rubbed my pussy around her asscheeks, circling the two hemispheres of her plump flesh. My clit drank in the satin-sleekness of her rump and the heat of her well-spanked flesh. I groaned, my orgasm swelling fast.

I couldn’t hold it off for long. Not with how excited being spanked made me. I felt Diane’s eyes watching me. I whimpered, sparks flying from my clit. I ground my bud into her pliant rump. My pussy clenched.

I needed just a little more.

I slid my pussy up her right butt-cheek, shifted left to cross her crack, and down the other side. My labia drank in the stimulation. My clit drank in the wonderful friction. The pleasure surged through me.

I came.

“Gods, yes!” I howled as the rapture flooded through me.

My pussy contracted and spasmed, cream squirting out of my pussy. My body thrashed in bliss. My tits heaved in my blouse. My head threw back and I stared sightless at the ceiling as rapture engulfed me.

It flowed through me over and over. I kept grinding on her ass, drinking in the feel of her while she gasped and whimpered. I drenched her butt-cheeks with my gushing passion. Stars burst across my vision as I drank in this wonderful pleasure. It was so amazing.

Then it passed.

I gasped and panted, contented bliss flooding my body. I rose from her ass and straightened my skirt, reveling in the buzz of my orgasm. I drew in a deep breath, my eyes flicking to my Mistress to see if she had more instructions.

Diane was already working at her desk again, not looking at us. Annie lay curled into a ball on the floor beside her stroking her pussy and biting her teeth to keep from moaning as her orgasm surged through her body.

“Free the bitch,” I commanded my doggy slaves.

My bitches obeyed, yelping, “Yes, Madam!”

With deft skill, they unstrapped Gardenia. The girl wiped her tears from her narrow face, nostrils flaring as she fought off more sobs. She stood straight, brimming with defiance. I arched my eyebrow, retrieved the collar, and thrust at her.

I waited to see what she would do. Would she require more discipline? She hesitated, eyes flicking towards the spanking bench. Then, a sullen looking pouting her lovely face, she snagged the collar from me and strapped it around her neck.

“Good,” I answered. “Gardenia is too pretty a name for a bitch. You shall be Cuntlapper.”

“Yes, Madam,” she answered.

I hooked the leash to her collar. “How do bitches walk, Cuntlapper?”

“I don’t know,” she mumbled.

“Do you need another twenty spankings?”

“No, Madam.”

I jerked the leash so she looked at me. “Then answer my question, Cuntlapper.”

“On all fours?” She winced, cringing fear crossing her face.

I nodded my head and waited, my eyes boring into hers.

She wilted, swallowed, and knelt on the floor.

“Good girl,” I cooed and petted her hair, rewarding her good behavior. “Let’s go bitches! Back to the kennel. Cuntlapper, just follow Jordan and Akane.”

She crawled slowly after my two bitches, her knees not used to moving across rough surfaces. She winced as she moved before me. My eyes crank in the sight of her dark, rosy ass swayed. She looked so cute between my other two bitches. She would need a tail. Anticipating that delight brought a smile to my lips.

I loved breaking in a new slave’s asshole. It was so much fun.

By the time we reached the kennels, I was grounding my teeth and wishing I had a crop. A few flicks of a whip on her tender ass would motivate her to keep up the pace. Some allowance could be made for inexperience.

Some.

The new bitch looked into the cages as we passed them. They were the small rooms for pairs of bitches and pony-girls to live in. Most were occupied with pairs relaxing in their free time, playing games or watching television or making love.

All of them were daughters or granddaughters of Mark.

We reached the kennel’s supply room which had three walls covered with all sorts of sexual toys: dildos, butt plugs, clamps, restraints, whips, paddles, gags, hoods, vibrators. I chained her leash to a post in the center while Akane and Jordan found comfortable spot to cuddle on the floor.

“Which plug should we start with?” I mused out loud, my fingers running across tapered, black plastic each with dog tails hanging from the wide end. I hefted a thick one. “This one, Cuntlapper?”

Her eyes widened in shock. She didn’t answer me.

“I asked you a question, bitch,” I said, voice cold, deadly.

“No, Madam,” she squeaked in fright, her eyes flicking to the paddles.

“Are you sure?” I purred. I held the thick cone before her eyes. It was five inches at its widest. “Your ass would be stretched open with this one. Wouldn’t you like that?”

“No, Madam.”

“You will,” I promised. “Akane, ready the bitch!”

“Yes, Madam.” The Japanese bitch crawled to Cuntlapper and pinched the new slave’s rump. “On your hands and knees, bitch!”

“Yes… uh…”

“Alpha bitch,” Akane growled, nipping her ass. “Once you kneel, you will spread apart your pretty butt-cheeks.”

“Yes, alpha bitch,” Cuntlapper groaned as she knelt on the ground.

Wincing, she spread apart her burning ass-cheeks, exposing a brown sphincter. Akane licked her chops, gave me a naughty grin, then buried her face between the Black bitch’s butt-crack. Cuntlapper’s eyes widened as Akane tongued her sphincter, then a smile appeared on her face and she purred in delight.

“You like that, bitch?” I asked, standing in front of her. I unlaced the bodice of my priestess vestment, a translucent, white dress trimmed with gold. My round, dusky breasts popped free. I stroked a hard, dark nipple.

“Yes, Madam,” she moaned.

My dress slipped to the floor and her eyes fell upon my naked curves. “Time to put your mouth to its proper use.”

“I’m sorry, Madam, I don’t know what you mean?”

I arched an eyebrow. “What’s your name, bitch?”

“Gar… Cuntlapper, Madam.”

“Exactly.”

Her eyes fixed on my shaved pussy inches from her face. She shuddered and inhaled, her nostrils twitching as she breathed in my tart arousal. Her eyes fluttered, Akane still rimming her cute, little asshole. Whimpering, she leaned her face forward, crossing those last few inches.

Her lips touched my labia.

Her tongue fluttered out. I groaned at the delight. Her eyes widened as she tasted me. Then she purred in delight and licked again and again. I smiled, loving the newest bitch servicing my pussy, my body still buzzing from the last one.

Her tongue was wonderful. Agile as it flitted light as a feather across my labia. She brushed my sensitive clit. Sparks flew inside me and my head threw back and a low, purring moan escaped my lips. I seized a handful of her voluminous, silky hair and ground my cunt into her skilled lips.

“I was right when I named you, bitch!” I gasped. “You were born to lap cunt!”

Cuntlapper just moaned and kept licking me. Her touch grew stronger, her tongue digging into my folds. I gasped as such pleasure rippled through my body. My breasts jiggled as I ground on her hungry mouth, my orgasm building and building in me.

“Madam, may I fuck this bitch’s ass?” Akane asked. She looked up at me, her chin resting on that well-spanked rump.

“Yes!” I hissed.

“Thank you, Madam.”

Akane rose. I shuddered, my eyes fixed on her crotch while the newest slave’s tongue lapped through my cunt. I groaned as a cock blossomed from Akane’s crotch. She transformed her clit with the Shophkah spell, able to control when her bud blossomed into a full dick.

It grew with the pulsing beat of her heart, growing thin and long. The tip became the dark-pink head of a cock, the slit weeping clear precum. I tightened my grip in Cuntlapper’s hair as my Japanese bitch mounted the Black slave and lined up her cock at the new slave’s asshole.

Cuntlapper’s eyes widened as she felt the shaft pressing on her. I grinned. “You’re about to enjoy your first futa-cock, bitch!”

Akane thrust, her small tits jiggling.

Cuntlapper gasped at the intrusion. Her lips latched onto my clit, her moans humming around my little pearl. It was such a delight. Her passion sparked a blaze inside of me, a fire growing and growing towards a new orgasm.

I groaned and moaned, smearing the bitch’s face through my cunt. She fluttered her tongue into me as Akane pounded her girl-dick into the bitch’s asshole. Akane’s pale-olive crotch smacked into Cuntlapper’s burning ass, bringing grunts of pain.

“Fuck the bitch!” I gasped, my orgasm building and building, Cuntlapper’s tongue wiggling around inside my cunt. “Make her cum on your cock!”

“Oh, yes, Madam!” grunted Akane as she humped away. “I’ll make her explode.

I loved watching a bitch getting her ass broken in. I loved tearing her down until she was ready to serve, eager to please. Her tongue speared into me, her moans no longer full of pain, but of joy. She took that cock into her asshole.

“I think she likes my cock,” Akane panted. “Squeeze that asshole about my dick. Mmm, yes, yes, just like that. And work those hips. That’s a good bitch!”

My orgasm built and built in me. It was so hot watching Cuntlapper wiggle her hips. She stirred her bowels around Akane’s dick, embracing the pleasure. Her tongue fluttered deep into me, her nose massaging my bud.

She stared up at me, dark eyes glossy with bliss and worship.

The look of a slave.

I shuddered and my orgasm exploded through me. Pleasure rippled through my body. My tits heaved. I gasped out in rapture, my silky hair caressing down my back as I shook. My cream flooded down her face. She gulped it down, her tongue licking across my snatch.

Her touch stimulated me. She kept me moaning and gasping. I shuddered, watching Akane’s clit-dick vanishing into Cuntlapper’s asshole. Stars burst across my vision as my orgasm burned through my mind.

“That’s a good bitch!” I moaned. “Ooh, licking pussies! Taking dicks in your asshole! Ooh, you’re becoming a proper bitch!”

“She is, Madam!” Akane moaned, her hips thrusting faster and harder. “Oh, yes, yes, yes! She is! I’m going to explode in her, Mistress! I’m going to burst!”

“Yes!” I hissed as my orgasm peaked. “But first, Cuntlapper has to submit to one more thing.”

Akane grinned.

“A good bitch submits,” I told her, holding tight to her hair.

Though my legs were weak from the powerful orgasms the bitch gave me, I didn’t stumble away. I held firm, gripping her hair. I pressed my pussy tight against her and relaxed my bladder. I gripped her hair as my piss streamed into her mouth.

She gasped in shock, her eyes bulging at the acrid taste of my piss. She tried to pull away, but I held fast while Akane’s hard thrusts drove her face back into my pussy. I moaned, the pleasure tingling through me as I emptied my bladder.

Her eyes shone with humiliation as she drank my piss. After a moment, she stopped resisting. She surrendered to drinking my urine like a good slut. I could see that realization in her eyes as I smothered the last of her resistance.

My orgasm exploded through me.

My cunt spasmed, adding a flood of my tart juices to the acrid piss.

Pleasure. Rapture. Passion. Electricity.

All those sensations overpowered me. My muscles contracted. My mind reeled from the pleasure. I stumbled back, catching myself on the post. I swayed as the tempest assaulted my thoughts with ecstasy. For a moment, I was lost to them.

I hung at the peak of my pleasure. Then I panted as my body trembled, energized by my orgasms. “Oh, bitch, that’s how you please your owner.”

“Yes… Madam,” she said, her voice tight. Her face was a mess. Tears ran down her cheeks while pussy cream and urine stained her face. A small puddle had formed on the ground, more running down to her breasts.

I shook my head, grabbed her hair, and shoved her face down into the piss. “Lick it up, bitch!”

“Yes, Madam.”

Her tongue lapped across the concrete floor then moaned, her body trembling. The humiliation and shame mixed with the pleasure and pain. Confusion and lust warred in her face as she came despite the degrading treatment.

No, she orgasmed because of the degrading treatment.

Akane howled, burying herself in Cuntlapper’s ass, her face a rictus of pleasure as she unloaded cum in Cuntlapper’s bowels. I shuddered, loving the bliss burning through the room. It was such a delight to witness. Through her orgasm, the new bitch kept licking up my piss from the floor.

I seized a 3” butt-plug as Akane pumped her dick in and out of the slave’s asshole a few more times, squeezing every drop of her seed out. Then she dismounted, leaving the new bitch’s asshole gaping open for a moment.

“Oh, my Gods,” panted Cuntlapper. “That was—”

She squealed as I shoved the butt-plug up her ass, lubed by Akane’s cum. It stretched out her asshole. She groaned and whimpered. Her eyes shot up to me

“Now you’re fully a bitch!” I smiled.

“Yes, Madam,” she said and… a smile crossed her lips. She would make an excellent bitch.

* * *

June 8th, 2052

Diane pissed in Cuntlapper’s mouth. The bitch’s training was complete, and she didn’t need to be held in place to accept her Mistress’s urine. She gladly drank the piss. When the stream died, Cuntlapper licked Diane’s pussy clean.

“Thank you, Mistress,” Cuntlapper purred afterward. “This bitch enjoyed drinking your urine.”

“You’re welcome,” Diane purred, stroking the slave’s head. My Mistress glanced at me. “You did well with this one, Sarai.”

I smiled and bowed. “Thank you, Mistress.”

“Do you want to be my bitch forever?” Diane asked, bending down to stare Cuntlapper in the eyes.

“I do, Mistress,” Cuntlapper smiled. “I’m your bitch.”

“Cuntlapper is such an inelegant name. You shall be called Gardenia once more.”

Tears glistened in her eyes. “Thank you, thank you, Mistress!”

Diane climbed into our bed, and I slid in beside her, kissing my mistress on the lips. “You’re going to get a very nice reward,” Diane promised me before glancing at Gardenia. “Dogs sleep on the foot of the bed.”

“Oh, sorry, Mistress.” Gardenia hopped on the bed and curled up at our feet, her coffee skin stark against the white comforter.

“So what is my reward?” I asked.

“Sit on my face, and I’ll make you howl, Sarai.”

I beamed. “You always do. Even after forty years.”

I loved being the Mistress of my Owner’s slave kennel. I was so glad to be bound to her for eternity.

The END of Sarai’s Tale

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