It was after lunch now, and the young woman was visibly used: despite being rinsed with cold water twice previous, the signs of sex were still clearly visible on her, her pale skin flush carnation, and her pussy lips puffy from repeated violations, and unwillingly induced orgasms. Old cum from previous breedings continued to drip from her cunt, even after she had been washed.

It was about this time that the “general public” would be allowed access to her: when she was morning fresh, only soldiers in the King’s army, and those males who had the money to pay for early access, had access to her comfort and pleasures. Now, after lunch, civilian bidders from off the street would be coming in, as the slave brothel was opened to all citizens of the city.

The next male to come in looked to be of some status: he wore purple robes, and had one or two golden rings around his fingers. Probably from the city finance sector, and here on a late lunch fling: wealthy enough to be first in line for the public fucking, but not so much so that he could get first crack when she was unused for the day. It didn’t particularly matter to slave: she spread her legs, and took the middle aged male eagerly. Her cum slick pussy yielded easily to his cock, and he used this to drive himself into her all the way to his base of his balls.

The slave gasped in surprise and excitement: this male was quite well endowed, and she felt the tip of his shaft probing the entrance to her womb as he thrust in his rut. She looked him in the eyes, gasping with pleasure, about to compliment him, only to be silenced by a deep, lustful kiss, as he methodically plowed his hips into her slippery crevice.

This male was an artful lover: the older males lacked stamina, and quickly came after a rut or two. The younger soldier males had stamina, and were better trained in the art of fucking a woman, but ultimately, their strength was in their youth, and the inherent ability to make multiple attempts granted by such. This particular male though, was a skilled lover, slave could tell from his controlled, methodical movements. A man his age lacked the ability to continuously restiffen after a breeding like the younger males who had bred her earlier, but the willpower, and mental purpose acquired by age more than made up for that shortcoming: he plowed her, forcefully, but deliberately. His hips shivered and shook with the pent up reflexive frustration of arousal, but like a wild beast harnessed and handled by a skilled driver, his strokes were measured, and precise. With every assault, he would pierce her slit, with the same precision that one would thread the eye of a needle with. His strokes weren’t slow, but they weren’t quick either. He would draw back, and hilt himself into her just long enough for slave to gasp lustily in pleasure, before redrawing his hips like an archer drawing a bowstring, and firing again. He bore himself on his arms as he watched her face contort with ecstasy, her body spasming with pleasure as he forced his will onto her.

The slave squirmed and wriggled on his cock, twitching and moaning like a dying animal as the male slowly speared her into orgasmic delirium. Howls and moans of torturous pleasure escaped poured from her gaping mouth, occasionally silenced by a deep, lustful kiss from her mount. She trembled uncontrollably, as her body was wracked with one orgasm after another.

Slave loved these kinds of fuckings, from males who truly understood the art of rape. She loved to be screwed to the point of delirium and unconsciousness. waking up minutes, or possibly hours later, her legs drenched and wet from countless orgasms, her body still spasming from the endless pleasure forced upon it. She wished that this male would stay with her until the end of the day. It was all too soon that he quickened his pace, and in the characteristic male fashion, hilted himself in her as he relieved himself into her womb.

Slave let her full weight hang from the chains as the male extricated himself, and showered himself quickly with a bucket of water before donning his clothes. This one wouldn’t be staying around long: he only had his lunch break to enjoy himself in, and no time to play around with golden showers or fellatio afterwards. A quick goodbye kiss, and slave was alone again, to wait for her next mount.

The next few males were uninspired fucks, even without comparison to the magnificent screw she’d been given after lunch. They would simply clamber onto her, and thrust their hips a few times, before orgasm overtook them, punctuated by a quivering grunt, and a brief thank you afterwards. She actually didn’t mind these dull encounters: after being ridden like a racehorse, these were perfect opportunities to recuperate, as much as one could while being fucked. These males practically got themselves off, allowing her to just lie there, and fantasize about far more interesting lovers, and the extra rations she would get for servicing this many males.

About an hour later, she got another unusual visitor: a clergyman, from the city temple. The fact that he was a clergyman wasn’t anything spectacular in and of itself: despite engaging in prostitution being a sin, pretty much every clergyman in the temple regularly frequented the slave brothels. No, the strange thing was how naive and timid he was about it: he entered in full temple dress, something most clergy would never do. Upon seeing the young woman, sweaty, cum covered, and bound to the table, he called to one of the guards to have her rinsed off and given a cup of water. This was something that she didn’t take issue with: she was thirsty from being fucked so hard, and it was nice to have liquid other than cum or urine to drink.

This one was unexpectedly sweet, checking her for bruises, asking her if she was ok repeatedly. She thought it kind of cute, if not unbelievably naive. When he was assured that she wasn’t in any pain, he sat on a stool, and tried to strike up conversation with her, as though she were an ordinary date. Questions about where she was from, what she did when she wasn’t fucking, what her favorite things were. The slave found herself oddly unsettled: being a slave slut was quite easy, and she had been one for so long that she had forgotten how easy it was: whether she liked it or not, all she had to do was keep her tongue still, spread her legs, let men cum inside her or on her, and she would be rewarded with food and orgasms. Even the “nicer” males who talked with her sometimes, kept their questions and speech limited to fairly impersonal matters, if not things that dealt directly with the moment at hand. This particular male, while well intentioned, was making the process uncomfortable, asking things about her childhood, about her homeland, about friends and family and things she hadn’t cared to remember for years, things that certainly weren’t necessary for her to carry out her expected function.

Indeed, the male had been rambling on for about half an hour when finally, and for the first time that slave could remember, she told the clergyman to either mount and fuck her, or get out, causing the guards to erupt with uproarious laughter.

After the third minute of watching the priest fumbling with his robe and underpants, it was clear that this was a virgin, and this was apparently his first time fucking anyone, period. He kept apologizing as he struggled to untie his belt, and remove his robe. In another setting, this could have been very cute and funny, however slave found herself becoming impatient, and a bit offended: she was accustomed to being used properly and well, and this virgin couldn’t even take his undergarments off for her.

Finally, slave beckoned the priest to stand in front of her, and to place his crotch in her face. Ever as chatty, the priest obeyed, continually apologizing, and thanking her for her patience. Slave ignored him, and with her teeth, grasped onto the cord of his belt. It was a tricky combination, with the belt being ceremonially bound in several places, but 30 seconds of work with her teeth and tongue, and the priest’s lower garments dropped to the floor, his stiff prick popping out between his robe.

Virgin or not, it wasn’t a bad sized organ, and despite the clergyman’s attempts at piety, it was quite ready to go, dripping with precum and throbbing beet red. The clergyman began to thank the slave for undoing his belt, only to be interrupted by a gasp of pleasure as slave took his member into her mouth. With a long, deep slurp, she savored and sucked the priest’s phallus, sheathing his cock down her throat, letting the tip of his shaft bury itself in her gullet. The male had never felt such pleasure before, and doubled over in blissful rapture onto the table slave was strapped to, his hips jerking spasmodically, and his legs quivering, as he praised his god for the wonders this young woman was working through his wang.

All too soon, his endurance was spent, and the inexperienced male shot his load into the whore’s tummy. He lay atop her for a short time afterwards, too shaken and exhausted to get up. When he finally did get up, he was the most grateful john she had ever had, which slave found to be somewhat adorable. He praised the quickness and softness of her tongue, and her perfect muscular control, which she found to be flattering. He asked her if there was anything he could do for her, to which she replied that he could buy her contract, if he could afford the price, something that she knew he would never be able to do. Naive young man he was, he swore right then and there to do whatever it took to get the money to buy her contract, something that made slave giggle right there, out of disbelief and happiness.

She found she didn’t mind talking to this one, and once he was relaxed, he actually could speak in an even, understandable rhythm. He was kindly, using a piece of his robe he tore off to clean her once more. His kindness saddened her though: most likely he was being so kind because he was young and relatively new to the temple. She found that despite being an organization that allegedly preached ideals of peace, love, and kindness, most members of the temple were more depraved and perverted than most average criminals who had their way with her. Occasionally, she would get ones like this one, who actually did practice most of the ideals of their faith, barring the failing that they were still men, and did things men do at the end of the day. But these were rare, and it was surprisingly nice to get a nice one, like she was getting now.

Eventually, the john’s time was up, and like everyone else, he had to depart. Ever the faithful deviant, he blessed the young woman, right there as she was chained to the table. Slave didn’t believe in his god, or any god, but she knew a repeat customer when she saw one, and she took his meaningless oaths and ceremony as pleasing flattery more than anything else.

Her next clients were a group of farm hands, smelling of sweat and barley. These men couldn’t afford her high price on their own, so they purchased her as a group. These males weren’t talkative, gentle, or concerned, taking only the briefest of moments to inspect their toy before parting her legs, and forcefully sheathing their thick, veiny rods in her folds. They were rough, bearing their weight on her small, petite frame while their muscular hips mercilessly pistoned and pumped her punished well used vag, their staffs lubricated by loads of other males’ cum, and slave’s own leakage.

This was pleasure: no thinking, no talking, only the instincts of lust, pleasure, and submission, as each male took their turn atop her, mounting her, penetrating her, and churning her insides into soft butter, which leaked out of her cunt uncontrollably. With every male, her legs would open, close, and clamp around her mount automatically, her insides clenching around the male’s shaft of their own accord. This was the life she had come to enjoy, and she was enjoying it now more than she had in the past few hours.

When they were done with her, they didn’t even excuse themselves, leaving her there in a stupor, her hyperstimulated, oversated body alive with pleasure, and exhausted from all of her encounters. She didn’t even open her eyes for her next client, and she only knew that she had a new mount from the feeling of a new, thinner, longer shaft filling her folds. She simply accepted him, as he forced himself on her, filling her cunt with his cock, and her mouth with his tongue. She put no special effort into it, simply letting herself go limp, as her body endured the continual electric stimulation of orgasm after orgasm. This seemed to excite the male atop her, as he quickened his pace early, exploding in her after only a few minutes.

It was this time, near the end of the day, that slave felt true exhaustion. Even though she was young, and in shape, the strain of orgasm after orgasm was always taxing, and the strain of being ridden, pounded, and screwed for hours on end made her muscles ache as heavily and painfully as any farm hand or builder. The males loved this: when slave was near her breaking point, and every shuddering orgasm brought pain as well as pleasure, as her body’s sex was taxed to its limit.

The males could see her visible exhaustion, her legs and pussy twitching and quivering from hyperstimulation, even after orgasm had passed: like wolves closing in on wounded prey, this display would excite them, and they would hilt themselves in her wet, punished slit, even as she moaned and sobbed in a mixture of perverse pleasure and pain. She would alternate between pleading for them to stop, and pleading for more, as the males speared her sore pussy like hunters spearing a beast, and like a beast she would moan and sob and squeal, her body utterly at the mercy of a seemingly neverending string of fresh rapists.

By day’s end, she was limp, exhausted, and barely conscious, simply lying there as her last few mounts used her. When the last of the clients had been cleared out, the guards unchained the slave bitch from her table, then bound her hands behind her: the girl was limp and pliable, and wasn’t in any shape to resist, hanging like a rag doll as the guards hoisted her by her shoulders. They splashed a bucked of cold water into her face, to wake her from her stupor. The slave coughed and gagged weakly, knowing what was to come next. She meekly accepted as one guard crammed his erect cock into her mouth, spreading her jaws as far as possible and taking him down her throat. The other guard predictably invaded her ass, gripping her hips and wedging his cock into her anus.

The guards, so positioned, used the young slave for the next half hour or so, masturbating themselves with her willing, yielding orifices, while the slave just hung between the two animals meekly, breathing calmly through her nose as the males shot load after load of creamy seed, pent up from watching her fuck all day, into her. When they were satisfied, and she was totally humiliated, they dragged her limp, wet body to her pen, dumping her into a corner.

When they left, the slave roused to her knees, grateful that the day’s services were finally over. Her cunt was still dripping with cum as she scampered over to her trough, and devoured the gruel left there by her masters. All day she had been ridden like a field beast, and it was like a field beast that she replenished herself now, no care for her lewd, naked state, or the mess she made as she buried her face in the slop given to her for nourishment. There was no time for that: she would eat until she had her fill, and when that was done, she would lay upon the cobblestone floor, and drift off to sleep, resting until tomorrow, when she would be brought out again, to service even more clients.

And she would offer them no resistance then either.

The End.

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