Ever since a cold, uneasy truce settled between the Monstergirl Empire known as "Mamono Reik" and the Human Empire, more humans had been accepted into visiting the monstergirl lands for strange pleasures, delights, and goods. Some would leave with joy, some would stay for a while, and some would stay for good...freely or in chains.
Most species were very friendly, eager to meet, talk, and of course, make love to satisfy their need for human essence.
Some, like dark elves or some crueler types of succubi, were mostly content to use humans like cattle, albeit cared for.
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The Anubis girl's cheeks flushed:
"I don't like the practice, lady. Let's get this over with."
The Health Inspector came wearing her Kemet best white cotton shendyt and all, her Ureaus Snake Circlet gleaming on her forehead as much as her sweating forehead, her big jackal ears and fluffy tail twitching nervously. Behind the ambivalent, nervous Anubis girl stood her slave, a ginger human girl with sparkling green eyes, wearing a silver collar on her neck and silver cuffs on her ankles and wrists to signify her position, and nothing else save for a small backpack to carry Amani's papers and serve as her personal notepad. Amani treated Eilie like a friend and family: total nudity in public was the young girl's preference. She loved the attention human adventurers gave her body as she strolled naked behind her mistress.
Inspecting Human Sperm Farms was always an awkward task: the least valuable or appealing human males falling into slavery would be dragged here: to have their cocks milked for days at no end, supplying the essence potions and pills for succubi and mamono with fewer qualms who do not want to waste time or love sexual contact with humans. Put into elaborate erotic bondage gear or simple stocks, the captive slave men would be caressed, stroked, sucked, and massaged by female workers like cows- or bulls, a word more appropriate for this situation. Amani was sent by the local governess for a routine health inspection and to oversee that the human slaves being cock-milked were not excessively abused.
Eilie kept smiling, happy to tag along, Amani had a good idea why.
"You'll see that The Greba Essence Farm keeps health standards to the letter, the healthiest "bulls" the Honorable Dark Elven Slaver's Guild provides us, milked in the most hygienic environments and no longer than the indenture contracts dictate with mandated rest periods." The succubus farm co-owner spoke, adjusting her glasses and showing elaborate pie charts the fluffy Anubis monstergirl understood nothing about. She wore a doctor's lab coat, her hooved feet needing no shoes, her spade tail jeweled with a circlet at the base. "Feel free to inspect the human slaves being cock-milked. Perhaps you'll even enjoy the sight." Her yes-woman, a dark elven secretary with a pencil skirt and dark office suit nodded hastily, putting a signed document in front of the Anubis Health Inspector with a wall of text scribbled on it.
It was the weakness of the Anubis, a race of obsessive-compulsive desert guardians serving as lawyers and morticians, detectives, and government bureaucrats. Amani would be busy reading for hours while any unscrupulous inspectee would hide any skeletons in the closet, hopefully not literal.
"I trust that you will see that our methods are pristine and as ethical as feasibility allows, for we intend to expand to mamono and human dairy industry utilizing monstergirl and human women as well, free and otherwise. So many minotaur and holstaurus women are under-utilized in the Dark Elf Queendom's slave workforce, to speak nothing of free citizens of the same species who can earn a side income."
Eilie grinned, making the succubus smile at her. Amani was not amused.
Greba's family was one hell of a Dark Elven Dynasty, having joined the pro-human Succubus' Empress Agrat in the earliest days of the Maou Revolution. That said, they were dark elves, and did not abandon slavery in their lands, but reformed it and prevented extreme abuses, trading productivity for what passed for morality and mercy. As such, they handled most of the human slave trade and branched out to correctional slavery for monstergirl criminals, and virtually dominated every sector that used less-than-free labor or mamono body resources.
Opening the wide wooden door, Amani entered a large barn for the lack of a better description, her eyes growing with shock, her little Anubis heart in her bosom beating faster, her cheeks suddenly feeling the rush of heat.
It was like a cattle farm, but the livestock were human men. A sea of restrained, nude human males, lay before her, her ears pulling back from the feeling of alarm and confusion.
Naked young men, and older males, were put to stocks, fragrant succubus hood masks keeping them docile and relaxed. Naked, their cocks and balls dangled freely, cocks fully erect and throbbing, either stuck to suction cups pumping their seed into the complex goblin machinery refining it, located at the center of the huge room supported by steel pillars, or being milked by women who loved masturbating restrained men like animals. Some women were not just masked for hygienic reasons but were veiled and fully covered as well, likely wealthy Araby girls and women visiting to play with men's cocks away from their socially oppressive atmosphere. A pair of Araby girls in full-body niqabs whispered to each other quietly, giggling as they softly stroked a young boy's exposed penis with gloved hands, who could helplessly moan in his aphrodisiac mask, put into stocks, helpless. He couldn't even wiggle his ass from the gloved spankings the bigger niqabi girl delivered occasionally, laughing under her veil, the younger one gasping and laughing as the poor slave boy's penis twitched, sending another blast of cum inside the suction hose. Giving his soft, hairless balls soft, periodic squeezes, she made sure the boy kept cumming, gasping, and screaming under the gag. The succubus gave the girl a thumbs-up and a grin before moving on, both Araby girls laughing amongst each other as they kept tormenting the boy with spankings and tickles.
"We get tourist milkers as well, you see..." The succubus grinned, leading the Anubis and her servant across the milking stalls. "Saves us costs, and since mamono women require essence, human women serve as great cock-milkers whose gains are only financial or enjoyment from the practice. Some slave women from the city municipality even volunteer on their off-time for fun."
"Fun." The Anubis smirked, rolling her eyes and sighing. "Humans." Her servant girl Eilie leaned to the Anubis' fluffy ear and whispered:
"Mistress, do you mind if I...try my hand as well?" She was eyeing a naked young blond boy who moaned and shook, his cock pumping gouts of seed inside the suction hose, his wrists and ankles suspended above the hay-lined ground with a chain harness balancing his limbs and waist like a reverse hammock. Smiling, she sat next to the boy, laying a hand on his buttocks, and another gently fondling his balls.
"What's your name?" She whispered gently in his ear. "I'm Eilie."
Sighing, the Anubis nodded wearily. "Go ahead, Eilie. Just be at the entrance when I'm done here. And be gentle with him."
"Will do!"
The Succubus co-owner kept leading the Anubis inspector, showing naked men, each tattooed with a "SLAVE" insignia and a serial number on their lower legs.
"We use mostly mechanized milkers, but to break the monotony and provide our male cattle comfort and pleasure, we often employ manual milkers. Our slave cattle men swim in endless pleasure, bondage, exposure, and gentle feminine humiliation. Human girls from abroad with harsh cultures enjoy visiting and humiliating men's cocks for a change. Mostly devout Araby and Maghrebi girls, though we get Zipangu, Zhong, and Hangguk visitors during Autumn who prefer torturing young white boys. Some even buy the boys and marry them, settling down here, in a freer land." The succubus grinned. "Not that the boys have a choice, nor dislike an exotic Zipangu or Zhong wife that will own them."
Amani looked slightly less uneasy, for the scent of semen and male bodies, no matter how hygienic, still entered her nostrils owing to her Anubis heritage. Her kind, the Anubis monstergirls of Kemet, had the blood of Iwiw, the black, ever-tracking desert hound. She saw Eilie whisper sweet words in the suspended slave boy's ear, her small hands massaging his cock and balls, squeezing the pale shaft, and stroking it. The ginger girl grinned, seeing the boy's balls shrink and retract, and a blast of cum getting sucked into the suction hoses. Her hand didn't stop, she was showering the boy's neck with gentle kisses, both hands squeezing and stroking his balls and shaft; the poor boy could only moan and shudder, constantly ejaculating like a bull. Happily humming, Eilie kept gently stroking, watching the boy shudder, retract his balls and periodically get his semen harvested like an animal on a farm.
Shaking her head, the Anubis put down her golden Ma'at staff and raised her paws, eyes glowing as she started to chant a spell for detecting disease and despair. Time to get to work.
The Kemet runes glowed blue, letting her scan the aura of the male milking farm. The succubus co-owner was speaking the truth.
Emotions of joy, relief, and lust bloomed around her enchanted eyes like flowers: these men, even if enslaved, were in a rapturous dreamland, bursting with virility and feeling joy in nurturing succubi and other monster girls. The younger boys weren't even masked and given aphrodisiacs, Otep could feel duty and happiness as the helpless, beautiful, hogtied boys felt the pleasure of being owned and their balls slowly harvested for their essence.
No illnesses were present either.
So far so good. Otep waved her paw, dismissing a rune and changing her view.
The slave quarters downstairs where the men slept weren't any different. Auras spoke of quiet relaxation, and no despair: some cells had aura readings of human females sleeping, apparently labor slaves tasked with cleaning and milking by hand, one female aura seemingly cleaning the floor with a brush on all fours. Two were talking with each other in their cells, relaxing on the bed, Otep couldn't make out the words from long-distance auspex, however. The cells seemed to be communal dormitories for females, single-bed cells for males, and men chained to the bedposts in their off-duty time.
As much as Otep detested such practices, everything was in Slave Code Parameters mandated by Agrat's Law of Slave Wellbeing.
A sweet voice made her turn.
"You can follow me upstairs to interview the awakened slaves if you insist."
The other owner of the Semen Farm stood before her, Greba the 20th.
The dark elf was rather short, wearing a rancher's hat and leather clothes in a lewd mockery of the human male cattle farm she ran. Her short, white hair was done in curls, and a bullwhip hung on her waist, her large, black breasts straining the white cotton shirt under her rancher's vest, big pointy ears studded with jewels.
"My cattle are happy, relaxed, and productive, Miss Amani." She stuck out a hand, which Amani reluctantly shook with her paw. "The males here give their bodies for a good cause: sustaining us as "humanely" as possible without the pesky things like freedom: men are better off without it."
"I see." The Anubis' answer was terse.
"I know you disagree with my methods: but I am doing humanity a service as well, keeping wife-beaters, criminals, and abusers, as well as horny young boys who absolutely love the practice confined and productive for our sisters. Three are runaways from Lescatie, caught by our border guards and upon hearing the practice, surrendered themselves for a long, long time."
"How did they know?" The Anubis rose her eyebrow, her Horus-tattooed eyes blinking sceptically.
