Lawyer Ravished and Enslaved

Chapter 13 - Ideologues and lactation.

That was nice, Monsieur. Leisurely, but building up to a lovely mutual feeling of oneness with another human being, humanity and the cosmos. The warmth starting in my vagina seemed to radiate to every cell of my body. Out of such a union of minds and bodies wonderful things are born. Other things are born of penetrations of the genitals that do not unite persons, only lusts. Sometimes those other things work out well I guess. I don't know.

Yes, Monsieur, it is a good time to get back to my story. After a session like we just had, I feel good about my life. If it led to that, maybe the path was not horrible, even it was very rocky.

Where was I, Oh yes, I was telling you about my month of paying for my crimes as a lawyer. I think I told you about the simple butt fuckers, the whiners and the guys who just wanted to have a good time with the famous lawyer turned slut, Stacy Lightkind. Together, those men made up about 70 of the 90 guys or so guys who used me in that month.

Some men were really painful, really scary or both in one way or another. But, from these other guys, I learned a lot about what was going on in the outside world while I was being abused by some and acting like a nymph with others.

Things had cruised along for about a week with me pretty on autopilot when one afternoon Alice Wissen told me not to bother to dress up like a lawyer and took me down to the dungeon herself. In a larger room than most, we met a casually but well-dressed man in his 50s. I was used to judging how much men were worth by their clothing and how they wore them. The man looked like he was the sort of guy to go into the fanciest men's store in town and buy the things that suited him best without thinking about the price. I suspected that was also the rule for other things he bought, including me.

Glancing around the room, I saw something that scared me. It was like a wooden saw horse but taller than anyone would use for sawing boards and the cross board was a bit wider than what a saw horse would have. There was a little round hole to mount something into it and a stool by the horse.

Less menacingly, there was also a table and two comfortable armchairs placed facing the front of the wood saw horse.

The man told me to put my arms behind my back. He soon tied my forearms together, pulling my shoulders back and thrusting out my breasts. After squeezing my breasts, he ordered me to climb up the stool while he stuck a dildo that looked to be about 22 centimeters long into the hole. You can guess, Monsieur, how I was told to place myself. The stool was removed. My legged were roped back to my arms.

With my pelvis against the hard wood bearing all my weight, my arms yanked back, my legs uncomfortably pulled back and up, my breasts obscenely pushed out and a dildo up my vagina, I was soon in agony. The man told me to be as quiet as possible and started the dildo vibrating.

Meanwhile, Alice had opened a bottle of wine. She and the man proceeded to sit in the nice chairs and chat amiably in front of me. I was like a living room fire there to lend color, warmth and a certain amount of action as a background for their gathering.

The two of them enjoyed their wine occasionally glancing up at me. I was doing all I could to avoid breaking down into screams and begging to be taken down while my body did not know whether to shout in agony or ecstasy.

Alice started talking. I did my best to concentrate on the conversation so to divert my mind from other things. The conversation went pretty much like this.

"Robert, I really like these new sex toys. The one now in Stacy is very quiet although I can see from her face that it is doing its job," Alice said.

"Well yes, Alice, but Stacy's face reflects a lot of things, at least as much pain as pleasure. Perhaps she does not know the difference anymore. It seems you and her other trainers have managed to turn a very smart woman into a mindless bimbo. It is cruel in some ways but the fault is really with those who allowed her to get pretensions in the first place. A beautiful, healthy woman like her should have been assigned to a wealthy man a decade ago and produced a half-dozen children by now."

"Yes, of course, Robert, but we of Spencer's Helpers are doing what we can."

I had an orgasm from the vibrating dildo pushed against the front of my vagina which caused me to rock a bit against the wood. I could not help but make some little sounds of brief pleasure and prolonged pain.

There was a break in the conversation that did not help my situation. After a few minutes during which I would have gladly died, Robert said, "we have to crush feminism completely. Not only is it inferring with our pleasures as men but, as our idiot friend in Halle, Germany said, feminism is cutting into the birth rate. The resulting shortage of labor is being used as an excuse to let in sorts of immigrants into western countries. Not mind you that I have anything against Somalians in Somalia, Syrians in Syria, or Guatemalans in Guatemala, but we can't allow our land to be flooded by unwashed masses who don't share our work ethic, respect for law, religions and culture.

"But the main thing, of course, is for men to control conception and births. Women's bodies are far too valuable to be left in the control of women. Women left on their own do not have enough children on average to even maintain the population. Only simple god-fearing women are willing to have more than two children and many of our fashionable college-educated women are reluctant to have one child. Women must be forced to do their duty. Certainly, women should not help other women to leave their husbands because he would not help with the dishes, like Stacy here did," Robert concluded.

At that point I was thinking that listening to the conservation was about as painful as the awful weight on my pelvis and the strain on my legs, arms and back. Robert stood up, looked into my eyes, twisted my nipples most painfully and said, "you deserve every bit of this cunt."

Ridiculously, I found myself crying convulsively and having another orgasm at the same time. Noticing this, Alice and Robert both started laughing. Their discussion continued.

"We are making a lot of progress. The whole atmosphere in the City of Orange and even the state has changed over the last few months. After we grabbed a few of the attractive troublemakers and a few of the less attractive ones to prove no woman was safe, all of the feminists who could not flee got real quiet while much of the population pretended to believe that women like Stacy here walked into the Pleasure Palace and volunteered to become sex slaves. It is wonderful how people will believe anything if they want to believe."

I had not known what kidnappings had occurred in the last month but later learned that the Pleasure Palace and the other two official brothels in town, the Playroom and Dick's Delight, had decided that they would accept as "volunteers" a few women well over 50 years old, one over 70 even. There was a small market for sex with older sex slaves, but it did not matter how often the older women were rented out for sex. The main purpose of those kidnappings was to silence every woman who valued her freedom, well as much freedom as any woman could have under the circumstances in Orange. Just about every fertile woman in town was considering how she could get out or get pregnant.

Robert spoke on, "Also, while there has not been enough time for it to be reflected in birth rates, it seems that many women are assuming their proper roles without having to be forced directly. Marriage rates are up. Abortions are non-existent except when the father does not want a defective child. Divorces are only happening when the man wants one. Women are not speaking up in the churches or city hall unless it is to speak up for the current system that is returning society to the natural order of things. Of course, I am not telling you anything you don't know, Alice, particularly as we can thank you for much of this progress."

"Thank you, Robert, for providing the platform for me to tell women what they have to do. After I appeared on a number of talk shows to speak about how it was only to be expected that unmarried, childless women would want to go to work for the Pleasure Palace, the Playroom and Dick's Delight, it did not take long for women to realize that they had better get married and start having a family if they did not want to volunteer for the brothels. It was brilliant of Spencer's Helpers to commission Professor Porcine to release his report tying birth control to cervical cancer even if all the data was forged.

"The Mayor's idea of making it illegal for women with children under three years old to volunteer to work in any of the brothels was a masterpiece. Without anyone exactly saying so, every woman who does not have a young child knows she is at risk of being grabbed and forced to become a sex slave. Of course, there is not enough of a market to take that many, even though Orange has become a Mecca for sex tourists in no time. The tourist economy is booming."

I wanted to puke or die or at least not have another forced orgasm. I thought I would finally get some relief when Alice said, "Robert, are we going to take Stacy here down so you can fuck her?" But, Robert replied, "No, I think, we will leave Stacy in her current situation. Looking at her, however, is making me rather lustful. Alice, take off all your clothing, lie on the floor and spread your thighs."

I caught a glimpse of surprise and dismay in Alice's eyes. She said that she had only given birth three weeks before and maybe they should call Donna or some other woman if Robert did not want Stacy now. Robert repeated his request without changing a word and Alice promptly stripped, gave her breasts a little upward tug, sucked in her belly that had not quite worked off all the weight she'd put on for the pregnancy and spread her vulva for Robert. He lowered his trousers and underpants while leaving his shoes on.

Despite the lack of foreplay, their sex was not rushed. I had another forced orgasm while five feet away Alice moaned and shouted her pleasure while Robert shot the makings of yet another baby into her. Milk seeped from Wissen's large breasts in two small streams onto the floor as his semen flowed into her.

My first thought of Mrs. Wissen on the floor was that it was good that the horrid woman was not that much more than a sex slave herself. This Schadenfreude was soon replaced with the realization that if Alice Wissen, for all her scheming and collaboration with the city's rulers, could not escape having to spread her thighs at a moment's notice three weeks after having a child, there was no hope of me ever gaining any freedom.

I was confused again when Alice started acting the coquette. She suggested that maybe she and Robert should go to his place and spend the rest of the evening there. It seemed that during the sex on the floor she'd done the math and decided that this very wealthy man would make an excellent sperm source and would be financially advantageous as the father of her ninth or tenth child.

Robert turned off the dildo in me, unstrapped me and helped me off the horse. I sat on the floor with my back against a wall and felt a sort of high as blood returned to various parts of my body and my genitals rested after all the forced orgasms.

Alice and Robert finished the wine silently before Robert declared that he liked Alice's idea of going back to his place but that he'd changed his mind and also wanted to have sex with me. He mentioned Alice's dripping breasts and said he thought it was sexy but he had not seen that when he'd had sex with her before. She explained that she was nursing and the excitement from the sex did that to her. In the past when she had sex while lactating, she'd always nursed or pumped her milk out before the sex. She had thought he was not going to make love to her this time. "But you, you gorgeous manly man, had a much better idea."

Oh, give me a break, I thought. Sitting on the floor for 20 minutes or so recovering, I realized Alice Wissen's whole game. She gets to be supported by the wealth of a dozen wealthy men. She gets rich having their children and lying to other women that they can have perfect lives if they are just perfect little pleasure and breeding units. All she has to do for it is fuck on demand and have a lot of babies. She likes the former very much and does not mind the latter.

Tom Wissen is undoubtedly getting his share in some fashion. Hell, he's probably gay.

What do Alice Wissen's men get? Well, they get passionate sex with a very hot woman who strokes their egos and creates children to carry on their genetic glory. They support Alice's brats with financial contributions but never have to educate or include them in their wills. They also get the knowledge that they added to the number of Übermenschen.

Unbelievably, some poor women with husbands with minimum wage jobs or no jobs at all, go for the crap Alice spouts although they can't possibly pay for the doctors, nannies and fitness classes that Alice has. Even a moderately rich woman could hardly do this even if she wanted to live off her vagina. If there was ever a traitor to her sex, it would be Alice Wissen.

These thoughts came to my head. Right then, I sort of liked that thoughts still came to my head. Despite all that had happened to me, I was not a dumb bimbo. I was a highly intelligent woman, but a very scared and tired one who had no options at all.

My mind went off in another direction. No decisions at all. Yes, that was the real allure for a lot of the women who accepted Alice's message or the message of The Church. If they totally focused on being subservient little females, they did not have to worry about anything else or take responsibility for anything. But, unless you had been kidnapped like me and were forced to become a sex machine, the escape from responsibility was as big a myth as the happy breeder nonsense that Alice was putting out.

But that was all the thinking I was going to be allowed that day. Robert said he thought they should screw me here and dry up Wissen's breasts before they went back to his place.

Alice mentioned that he could not get me pregnant that day because I was on contraceptives and that Wayne Dickerson had dibs on me for two children. Wissen also said regarding drying her up that she did not bring her breast pump with her.

His next words were, "No problem, we will have Stacy suck your breasts while I pump sperm into her. It will be a variation on giving her fluids from two directions. Your milk will probably be far more nutritious than the semen she normally has to drink when taking fluids into two holes at a time."

I thought, oh my god, cringing at both what I was going to do and Robert's crassness, but naturally I said nothing. Alice acted like lactation play was quite familiar and suggested that she could lie on the floor face up with her clothing crinkled under her head as a pillow, I could suck her nipples and Robert could do me doggy style. This plan was adopted and soon I found myself doing something I had not done since I was a young baby.

Once I got over the gross-out factor, it was not bad. It was like drinking warm milk, because I was drinking warm milk. I had not drunk much milk of any kind for a while but from what I remembered of cow's milk, Alice's tasted like cow's milk only thinner and sweeter.

Wissen closed her eyes. It became obvious that she was enjoying having her breasts sucked by a grown woman. I started to become aroused by the look on Alice's face and became really aroused when Robert stuffed his penis into my pussy from behind and began squeezing my breasts like he hoped to draw milk from them. Although my body was still sore from the wooden horse and forced orgasms, my oversexed mammalian mind took over and soon I had to stop sucking in order to pant out my orgasm.

Robert, though, kept going slowly and surely. I changed nipples and began squeezing his cock with my well-toned inner muscles. Alice began squeezing her thighs together and moaning. I think there was a three-way simultaneous orgasm before we collapsed in a pile.

I moved off Alice so she did not have to take the collective weight. Robert chose to use me as a pillow for five or ten minutes before getting up and getting dressed. Alice and Robert put on their clothing and told me to go back to my room. I later learned Robert's last name was McMasters.

I got a few extra calories that day as no one told my caretakers to subtract to account for the breast milk I'd received.

Chapter 14 - The real sadists get their shot.

I don't know if it happened by chance or design, but the "butt-fuck-and-run" customers, the whiners and the guys who just wanted a good time all seemed to have fallen in the first two weeks. The second two weeks of my "month of atonement" for my sins as a divorce lawyer featured men who had studied sadism enough to know how to give pain to a woman who'd had suffered just about everything.

Over those two weeks I experienced virtually the complete catalog of BDSM practices that do not leave permanent marks or injuries. Of course, I was whipped and subjected to various forms of electroshocks. I was suspended in various ways and fucked in many uncomfortable positions. I had hot sauce drizzled on my clitoris and ginger root stuck up my anus. Tucker allowed one man to move a sharp knife all over my body with me scared to death that the man playing this game would make a mistake and cut me badly.

Ty Laughlin said that he did not really hate me but that he'd just always liked to abuse women. I remembered how his ex-wife had complained of him pulling her hair, spanking her ass hard and twisting her nipples during ruthless pounding sex. I received the same treatment. I had it easier than his ex-wife because I'd had training and experience that Laughlin's wife had not had when she was used by a growling madman. Also, I was pretty sure that Niki would not let him choke me or pull out much of my hair.

By another sadist, I was posed as though I had been skewered with a thick stick going into my vagina and another stick coming out of my throat. It amused him to fantasize that I was being roasted. No one was hurt physically by this sick fantasy or the one of me standing naked on a chair with a noose around my neck with the noose tied to a rafter overhead, but the fact that there were people who dreamt of such things happening to me haunted me for days afterward. There were lengthy periods of bondage involving rubber, plastic wrap, coarse and silk ropes and even carefully placed barbed wire.

Yes, Monsieur, I realize that some masochists enjoy such things but I did not. I had no safe word, only the expectation that my overseers were doing their jobs well and I would not be killed or marred for life. I must admit that I often enjoyed the sex that followed such abuse although often it took me some time to concentrate after a particularly unpleasant session. This pleasure, though, led to further self-doubt and even self-hatred.

It was often unclear what the men really wanted. For some, it was some kind of revenge and others clearly took pleasure in my pain. But there were so many paradoxes. While some seemed to want me to be totally miserable, some of them gave me pain and then pleasure and then seemed to take pleasure in the fact that I had an orgasm despite having been whipped, electroshocked or drizzled with hot sauce. They called me a pain slut as though I had asked for any part of it. One of the guys who had staged a mock execution of me went on to have sex with me like a tender lover. What was that about? Did he feel guilty, did he have mixed feelings about me, or was he acting out some sort of necrophilia fantasy?