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Obedience Schooled

Chapter 4

By Gideon Kalve Jarvis

Commissioned by Guri

Author’s Note: This takes place in a “null time” period during the events of the “Human Bitches” series. It should be considered canon, but should not have any effects on the ongoing “Human Bitches” series.

Eventually, Savannah slept. Eventually. Tired out from getting their bottoms stuffed the evening before, her sisters had also been restless, but not nearly as long as they’d been earlier. Only a short while after being shut back in their cages, and both of the younger girls were fast asleep, leaving Savannah alone in the dark. Lots of time stretched before her in which she had every opportunity to contemplate life, and her place in it.

Life, as far as Savannah was concerned, sucked. In order to obtain the opulent inheritance of her aging, ailing grandmother, a woman deeply involved in civil rights since her youngest days, Savannah and her sisters had to prove they understood the latest and most oppressed group of “people” (a word Savannah still didn’t think deserved to be applied) in the world at that time: the morphs. To understand the plight of the morphs, and to counteract their own spoiled natures, Savannah and her sisters, Zoey and Phoebe, had to enroll themselves under the command of a morph trainer, as though they were morphs themselves, and then they had to pass. As long as they were in the course, their legal rights were revoked, and their trainer, Spike, could do anything he liked with them, or to them, and there was nothing any of the three girls could do about it. Well, they could always leave the training course, but to do so was to automatically forfeit any chance of earning their inheritance, permanently. So Savannah spent her second night in Spike’s care in a kennel cage, wearing a dog collar, fuming and ruminating about how awful her life was right then.

Beneath the soft leather collar Spike had first affixed around her lovely throat, Savannah wore a second collar, a shock collar, designed specifically to pick out any sounds she might make that were words. Ever since she’d mouthed off to Spike, he’d decided she needed to earn the right to use human speech again, and ordered her not to use it without his permission. Instead of obeying, however, she’d brutally insulted and derided Spike’s mate, Girl, with every filthy word the blonde human teen could think of at the time. So Spike had attached the shock collar, to ensure no further indiscretions took place – Spike was very protective of his mate, and he wouldn’t let anyone hurt her, for any reason. Soon after, he’d attached further electrodes, copper caps (complete with bells) over Savannah’s nipples, and another, smaller cap for her clitoris, each designed to transfer the charge of the collar to the spots now covered.

Fortunately for Savannah, Spike had punished her last night for failing to do her schoolwork. While Savannah felt strongly that it wasn’t her fault, all the same, it was fortunate, because Spike had chosen to insert a ring gag into Savannah’s mouth, preventing her from accidentally using any human words, at all, thus saving her from the effects of the shocktrodes on her delicate pink parts. Unfortunately, his punishment had also included a butt plug with a collie’s furry tail attached. So Savannah was left in her kennel that night, her jaw aching, her bottom feeling sore and stretched and not at all satisfied (unlike her sisters, who’d submitted like bitches to that filthy animal, Spike!), her mind turning over and over and over again how much she didn’t deserve what she was going through, and how she was going to get revenge on Spike…if only she could make it through his training course.

That is, she fantasized about revenge in every waking moment she wasn’t fantasizing about being bred like an animal herself, by the very male she hated so badly.

Morning came, as it always does, but as far as Savannah was concerned, it came far, far too early. Her sisters were better off, but even through the pink haze of heat that tinted the edges of her vision, as she was allowed out of her kennel following breakfast, the eldest Demol girl could tell right away that they were fidgety, on edge, needy. Two days ago, Spike had injected the three light-haired human girls with a potent mix of hormones, an injection intended to drive a morph, male or female, into a state of “heat,” focused entirely on satisfying the mating urge, like any common animal. Within minutes after the injection, the three girls had started to feel its effect, effects that had been steadily building since then, without any signs of relenting.

Last night, as a reward for good behavior, Spike had sodomized the two younger Demol girls. Zoey, of course, as the submissive middle child, a slightly pudgy girl who wasn’t nearly as attractive as her sisters, had quickly accepted her place under Spike’s dominance, and Savannah wasn’t at all surprised by her letting the filthy animal do whatever he pleased with her. What did surprise Savannah, however, was how Phoebe, the youngest, had finally submitted to Spike as well. She’d been punished for being too mouthy, too disrespectful, by Spike cutting her hair down from bottom-length to waist-length. Not that Savannah blamed Phoebe that much for submitting after such an act: a girl’s hair was sacrosanct, and by cutting it, Spike had demonstrated his power over all three sisters. Losing her hair seemed to have left Phoebe in a state of submissive, suggestible shock, all her ability to resist Spike removed with the many inches of beautiful, flowing hair that had been taken from her. But with Spike’s offering of sex had come orgasms, intense and satisfying, that had allowed the two younger Demol girls to get a slight reduction in the slow-burning agony of the hormonal powderkegs sizzling inside them, which in turn allowed them to obtain some much-needed sleep. Like all states of “heat,” they’d need a male’s cum inside their aching pink cunnies to be properly satisfied, but any relief was better than none at all.

Not so for Savannah. She’d lain awake for hours, despite being tired from her poor sleep the night before, and she’d suffered every moment, twitching, squirming, jerking, moaning, wailing like a wild animal while she listened to her sisters breathe deeply in the throes of sweet slumber, disturbed only occasionally by soft, needy whimpers as they were plagued by erotic dreams. There had to be some way she could get herself off! But there wasn’t, not with the tight-fitting mitts Spike had fitted over Savannah’s hands, ensuring she never had any opportunity to touch herself in any way that could bring significant pleasure. She needed relief, needed some way to cum! No such source of succor offered itself, however, not throughout the whole long night, and it was only because of total exhaustion that Savannah’s brain finally shut itself down enough for her to get what sleep she did, eventually, find.

This morning, Savannah stayed in her haze, only barely noticing the food Girl gently handfed to her through the ring gag. Somewhere in her mind, in a place that wasn’t quite overtaken by the haze of lust through which all her world was presently tinted, Savannah realized she didn’t understand why the cute cocker spaniel was being so nice to her. Savannah had said things to Girl yesterday for which Savannah would never have forgiven anyone, ever! But that morning, Girl let Savannah out of her kennel early, and while her sisters stayed inside to eat their food served in bowls like common dogs, Girl lovingly petted and cooed over Savannah, her hands so gentle, then broke up the pancakes and eggs and bacon in Savannah’s bowl into small enough bits that they could be fed to the gagged eldest girl, and swallowed without difficulty. The confusion at this behavior overwhelmed the normally selfish human girl, made her emotions bubble up from within her, until halfway through her breakfast, she found herself crying into her eggs.

“I’m sorry I can’t take out the gag,” Girl had explained while cradling Savannah’s head on her lap, so-gently stroking the human girl as sobs wracked her young body. “You’re having a rough time, I know. Lots of Spike’s trainees have problems like yours. It’s what happens when you’ve gotten used to a way of life, and then suddenly aren’t allowed to follow your old habits anymore. There’s denial, where you just won’t accept that things aren’t the same way that they were. Then there’s rage, and that’s when you lashed out at me yesterday. Then there’s depression, where everything feels so hopeless, and you just don’t know what to do, now that life’s knocked you down and kicked you where it hurts. You’ll probably cycle through the whole range of these feelings a few times before the end. Finally, though, you’ll find peace. As long as you do what Spike tells you, I promise you, you’ll be all right. He seems mean, I know, and he’s rough around the edges sometimes, but he only wants what’s best for you. I promise you that. Do what he tells you, and you’ll be happy in the end.”

“He wants to get me pregnant!” Savannah wanted to scream, turning up desperate eyes at the sympathetic Girl holding her through her sobs. The eldest Demol girl remembered clearly the contracts she’d signed, and she knew what awaited her in the all-too-near future, the moment she submitted to Spike’s dominance, and accepted his command over her. Her own mother had made all the arrangements, had signed all the papers, which Savannah and her sisters had countersigned without thinking about the consequences, all of which explicitly told Spike that the Demol sisters weren’t just to be treated and trained like bitches: they were to be bred like them as well.

Shame flushed Savannah’s whole body as she realized she was drooling copiously. And not just from her forced-open mouth.

“You’re frightened about the idea of becoming a mother, aren’t you?” Girl said gently, making Savannah blink, surprised. Could morphs read minds? A glance toward the kennel cages where her sisters were housed revealed that they were both pressed against the bars, listening closely, eyes wide and interested. “Honestly, I envy you. I can’t have children, not after…an accident, long ago.” There was more to it than that, and it was obvious even to Savannah’s heat-befuddled brain that Girl wasn’t even touching the tip of a really big emotional iceberg. “I’ve always wanted puppies of my own, and I’ve always wanted Spike to be their father. He’d be a good father, I just know, after everything I’ve seen of him. A good daddy. I like to think I’d make a good mommy, but,” and then she shrugged, signaling a change of subject. “He’s not going to force you to get pregnant, by the way. He really isn’t. It’s not in his nature, even if he was able to rape any of you, which he isn’t, any more than any morphmale. If we have to, we’ll refund the money we’ve been paid for Spike’s stud fee. With those hormones in your systems, you’ll be in for some serious suffering for…I’d say a month, give or take, but if you can make it through that time, it’ll go away, and you’ll be fine. Spike and I will even help, by letting you have orgasms to reward you, as well as take the edge off the burn. We’ve done it before, with others, morphboys and morphgirls that needed training about as badly as you girls do, helping them learn and improve, without getting the morphgirls pregnant. It was when their owners didn’t want puppies, or the poor girls really were too nervous or troubled somehow to accept Spike as a mate.” The spaniel smiled wistfully. “There was even this one adorable saluki who had a boyfriend, someone she really loved, and who seemed to really love her, and she didn’t want babies by anybody else. As bad off as she got during her heat, Spike could have gotten her to do anything he wanted, when her hormones overrode everything else, even love. But he knew how bad she’d feel afterward, not having given her virginity to the one she loved, so instead, we smuggled the boy in here.” Girl smiled a little wider as she looked down at Savannah. “That wasn’t easy, by the way: the boy was a human.”

Human…? All three Demol sisters were stunned, their minds unable to process the thought that any self-respecting human could possibly want to have sex with…with an animal! Zoey, the least close-minded of the three, seemed to make her peace with the notion first, her body relaxing, the tension leaving her scent. Phoebe’s eyes retained confusion, a lack of comprehension that mirrored her lack of true understanding about how relationships worked. To her, sex was a way to control others, to get what she wanted, and though she hadn’t actually had any (at least before last night), she knew perfectly well how valuable sex appeal could be in manipulating the boys and men she met in her daily life. Savannah, meanwhile, looked up at Girl with eyes that showed the depth of her churning emotions. She…she wanted to be good! She wanted so badly to do what was right! But she didn’t know what “right” was! Was submitting herself to Spike the right thing to do? Was resisting him? All of a sudden, she realized that, despite her visible state of bondage, she actually had a great deal of freedom to choose. And one of the hardest choices she had before her was whether or not she would allow Spike to put his babies in her belly.

“Phoebe,” came a familiar, growling voice from the doorway. “Eat your breakfast. Every last bite.”

“But-“

Savannah looked up, and shivered as Spike curled his lip, giving Phoebe a glare that brooked no argument. He projected such an aura of raw command, of sheer, feral power, it left the eldest Demol girl trembling all over, leaking copiously from her painfully-flushed cunny. Before Spike’s arrival, she’d been able to think, at least a little, had been able to use some rational, higher brain functions. Now, with the powerful, savage, virile male right there in the room with her, his clean, masculine scent cloying at her nostrils, Savannah found herself unable to think anymore. That is, she couldn’t think about anything that didn’t involve herself submitting to the most degrading, carnal, bestial acts Spike could demand of her.

Vaguely, Savannah was aware of them all finishing their breakfasts. Vaguely for her because Spike didn’t just stay in the room, he actually took her out of Girl’s lap, settling her onto his own, her head right next to his heavy sac, looking so full of promise, smelling just as primal and savage as he looked. Savannah’s breasts were soon soaked from the copious drool that leaked from her ring gag, and she soon had to shut her eyes in shame as Spike fed little tidbits of her breakfast to her, one at a time…even though this only filled Savannah’s head with memories of how Spike’s fat pink penis had split little Phoebe’s adorable, heart-shaped tushie so wide the night before, and how he’d made Zoey’s plump, round breasts bounce with each slap of his hips against her own buns, and how he’d left both her younger sisters lying on the floor, drooling, their expressions so utterly, ridiculously happy and blissed-out, while their gaped and thoroughly stretched bottoms leaked the big male’s copious cum which filled them to overflowing.

No! She couldn’t think like that! Spike was a brute! Spike was a savage! Spike was…Spike was…

Spike was the one who was going to fill Savannah’s belly to the brim with his puppies.

Whimpering pitifully, Savannah raised her stormy blue eyes, and looked up at Spike, her expression heartrending. Spike could smell the poor teen’s need as easily as he could see it, and he knew all the signs. Finally, after all her rebellion, after all her resistance, Savannah had reached the point where she was ready to submit. She’d finally humbled herself enough that she was willing to be taught, to learn a new and hopefully better way of living. The road would be long, and it would be hard, and there would be much backsliding, but the first step had been taken.

Letting his big hand stroke down Savannah’s back, over the clearly-defined dimples at the tops of her buttocks, and then caressing the twin swells of her flawless, aristocratically pert buns, thrust outward invitingly as she lay on her side, head in his lap, face only the span of two fingers from his thick white sheath, Spike allowed himself to smile at the eldest of the three sisters in his care. Immediately, that light touch made her shudder, and she thrust back into his touch, whining like a puppy as she closed her eyes momentarily, then resumed looking up at Spike, her blue-eyed expression worshipful and supremely submissive. She was his now, his willing slave, his…his breeding bitch. Whatever he wanted her to do, she’d do it, however humiliating and degrading and debasing it was. Her body and her mind were Spike’s to command and control at his whim.

“All right,” said Spike, letting his red eyes play over the three girls, then nodding in satisfaction as he got to his feet, gently moving Savannah off his lap, and onto all-fours at his feet. “Now that you’re all done with breakfast, it’s time for gym. Yesterday was just to get you used to the track. Today, we’ll be doing a little more, adding another exercise or two, and that’s what we’ll do every day, until you’re in the best possible shape. As long as you put in your all, and eat every bit of what I put before you, you’ll all do fine.” He clapped his hands, and almost instantly, all three girls were on their feet, following meekly where Spike led. “Let’s get started!”

*

“Ooooh!” Phoebe squealed loudly through the ring gag stuffed into her mouth, spreading it wide, her legs kicking in the air as she hugged her knees, per Spike’s instructions, her tiny tushie thrust downward. “OOOOH!”

Giving the tail-tipped plug another slow twist, Spike grunted softly, giving it a short, hard push, before it popped inside Phoebe’s dainty bottom.

“That would have been easier if you weren’t so skinny,” growled the pitbull with a smirk at Phoebe’s flushed face, running one large paw over the slight bulge in her tummy. “If you just do what you’re told, this shouldn’t be too awful….” Then he paused, obviously re-thinking his words. “No, this training is never pleasant. But it does work.” His expression soured. “I know from personal experience, I promise you.”

“The enema injection training is pretty standard for military morphs,” admitted Girl as she carefully fit pads over Savannah’s knees, Zoey already sporting a pair of her own. “They do it once to show you how it feels, like right now, and I’ve only known two morphs who got in enough trouble to get the treatment again.”

The oldest and middle sisters were on all-fours next to each other, as naked as always, both of them sporting tail-plugs, as well as barely-visible belly bulges, just like Phoebe. Soon, Phoebe joined them, whining softly as Girl took numerous pictures of the presented teens, being sure to pay special attention to their snug, virgin cunnies. But that was the present. The whole incident had actually started after they’d finished their morning workout. After the morning’s exercises, Spike had informed the girls that what they needed most was discipline.

“All your lives, or pretty close,” he explained as he clipped leashes to each girl’s collar and started to lead them back to the showers, “you’ve had the run of things. Nobody said you could or couldn’t do anything, or meant it if they ever did say it. You haven’t had any of those vital boundaries set up yet, so you think you can get away with whatever you want. Not here, though,” he added with a light curl of his lip, making the three teens shudder as much in arousal as nervousness at the sight of sharp teeth. “Here, you’re keptmorphs, and good little keptmorphs don’t have anything but boundaries.”

When they got to the shower room, Girl was waiting for them, with three very sizable syringes filled with a clear blue gel.

“All-fours,” barked Spike, and without questioning the power of his command, the girls immediately complied, their eyes wide and fearful with anticipation of whatever their trainer and master might have in store for them next.

“Roll over!”

Dropping a little more and rolling onto their backs, all three girls felt the hard realization of how utterly, completely exposed they were in this position. Dewy, heat-flushed folds were on full display for Spike, as were tense anal rosebuds, two of which were still more than a little stretched and flushed from Spike’s sodomy of the night before. Savannah wondered if he was going to get them all pregnant right then, even as she saw Spike pick up one of the syringes.

“Hug your knees to your chests,” he commanded again, squeezing the needleless syringe to make sure there was no air bubble. “These syringes are filled with an enema – a gel-form drug delivered anally, with this injector. Since I’m contracted to get all three of you pregnant, as well as train you in discipline, I figure I might as well get ‘em both done together. Now Zoey, Phoebe,” he reached to a nearby table with his other hand, picking up one of the two ring gags lying there, “open wide. Today, you learn not to use your voices, to be as quiet as well as obedient as the very best of morph servants.” Then he smirked toothily. “You’ll also learn what it’s like to have a tail. Your sister’s already had a taste of the feeling, but she’ll get hers out for good when you do, sometime later today – when, exactly, depends on your performance.”

As Spike busied himself with carefully tugging and twisting Savannah’s anal plug out, at least for a little while, Girl continued to explain what was about to happen.

“The drug is a hyper-ovulatory,” she said calmly, applying copious water-based lubricant to the stem of each syringe, while Spike did much the same to each girl’s bottom with his broad, smooth tongue, until all three sisters were flushed and moaning. “Among other things. The military used it on morphfemmes it intended to breed, to make sure they’d be able to perform. Injected as an enema, it quickly works its way into the ovaries, enhancing the speed at which a girl’s eggs develop. It also has the side effect of starting a girl to lactate,” she added with a blush to her adorable face. “We’ll probably have to start milking the three of you pretty regularly after this.”

Zoey’s eyes widened at this description, and she began to open her mouth, to ask how many babies a morph given the treatment could expect. Before she could say more than a word or two, however, Spike popped the first ring gag into her mouth, then added the second to Phoebe’s. Now all three sisters were gagged, utterly helpless to properly voice any sort of misgivings or protests to their master. Even more than before, they were utterly at his mercy, his to do with as he pleased.

“You thought the heat shot was bad,” Spike chuckled as he finished locking the gag at the back of Phoebe’s head. “When it’s mixed with this, it’s even worse! Your hormones will probably be going off the charts in an hour or two after I put these tail-corks in you. But that’s part of the training: being able to follow commands, even when your body is demanding that you either go to the bathroom, or find the nearest male and offer him your virginity. Or start humping doorknobs and table legs,” he added with a light shrug, picking up the first syringe. “I’ve seen it happen before. I’m just lucky this stuff only works on girls. Savannah, you’re up first.”

Gripping her legs tightly, Savannah watched through the slight part of her knees as Spike guided the well-lubricated syringe forward, teasing its tip against her freshly-vacated rectum. She tried to catch his eye, tried to use her eyes to plead with him for mercy, to spare her this additional indignity, to offer him anything he wanted, from money to sex to her own sisters as his permanent slaves (there had to be some sort of legal loophole she could use!), if only he wouldn’t force her to endure this next great humiliation. Somehow, Savannah doubted Spike would have accepted any of those attempts at bribery anyway: he was too honest, too honorable, too much of a man to betray the contract he’d accepted. No matter what she did, and no matter what she could say, even if she hadn’t been gagged, Savannah knew the truth: she was doomed.

There was the slightest of pops as the slightly cool syringe stem passed Savannah’s rosette, and she tensed, her bottom clenching involuntarily as she felt something cool start to fill her up. What…what was happening…?

“AAAAAAHHH!”

That stuff wasn’t cool anymore! It was searing hot! Savannah began to squirm before Spike had even finished depressing the plunger on the syringe. No, it wasn’t the stuff inside her – it was herself. She was burning up from the inside out! Burning…but not really burning. Aching as well, like everything inside of her was missing something, something vital.

Suddenly, Spike smelled so good!

Never before had Savannah really paid attention to her sense of smell. Really paid attention. The sheer impact of this sudden awakening almost made her forget the desperate need that was consuming her. Almost. She could smell Spike – he was the most prominent smell – and could almost taste his penis on her tongue, her senses were so acute right then, and she knew perfectly well that she wanted to taste him, to worship him, to lavish all her attention on that wonderful, beautiful, perfect piece of juicy male meat. More than Spike, though, Savannah could also smell Girl, and with that awareness of scent came strange desires the eldest Demol girl had never considered before. She’d never once considered herself a lesbian before that moment, never really thought about other girls in sexual terms, except maybe in the most joking of way, messing around in locker rooms and things like that. Now, however, she was almost able to taste Girl’s pussy, and while it didn’t have quite the same sense of fulfillment that Spike’s cock did, all the same, the spaniel’s pussy was just so appetizing to her right then. Even more appetizing than her own sisters’…wait, was she really fantasizing about…?

“Savannah,” Spike’s voice came crashing through Savannah’s churning, disordered thoughts, and she blinked, realizing that he’d already spoken to her, but she’d missed the words, the command that he’d given. Looking up, eyes wide, she froze, trembling beneath his gaze, feeling her poor aching pussy throb with need for him. “Savannah, roll over.”

She did so, thrusting out her toned bottom expectantly as she returned to all-fours, and grit her teeth as she felt Spike fit the plug back in place. This time it wasn’t so bad, as she’d been well-stretched since yesterday, and there was plenty of lubrication, but with the reinsertion also came a sense of desperate, uncomfortable fullness.

“The gel takes about eight hours to take effect,” Spike was explaining as he picked up the next syringe, and Zoey trembled slightly as she saw him lift it where she could see it clearly, her hazel eyes wide as he got out the air bubble. “You’re not getting those plugs out until then, so it’s a good thing you all went before we did our daily workout. Whether you get ‘em out after eight hours, or before bedtime, or maybe even later than that, all depends on how good you are today.”

Zoey squealed through her ring gag as Spike depressed the plunger of the syringe, kicking her feet a little even as she desperately hugged her knees to her chest. Not long after, her eyes got the same glassy look in them that Savannah knew she must have had just moments before. In a daze, Zoey obeyed Spike’s command, thrusting her bottom into the air like a cat in heat, and as she whined adorably while Spike worked the butt plug into her, this one sporting the feathery tail of an Irish Setter, Savannah flushed all over as she realized, for the very first time, just how beautiful her sister was. All her life, Savannah had taken for granted that she was beautiful, a queen meant to rule. When Phoebe had come along, Savannah accepted that she was the princess, to be pampered and primped and spoiled. Zoey, though, had just slipped through the cracks of Savannah’s way of understanding the world, and until that moment of sudden, stark clarity, Savannah had just assumed that her middle sister was dumpy and forgettable. Now, however, she could see her sister as a girl in her own right, rather than the middle child of her family, healthy, vibrant, beautiful. Shy, certainly, and a little plump, but not fat, and not ugly, not like she’d made herself believe before. Feeling a rush of affection for her younger sister, a fellow sufferer in their travails, as soon as Zoey had rolled over onto all-fours, and Spike turned his attention to Phoebe, Savannah moved closer, pressing her body against Zoey’s, feeling the warmth of her sister against her own smooth, naked skin. For a moment, unused to such displays from her older sister, Zoey hesitated, but then, tentatively at first, and then wholeheartedly, she pressed back, the hips of both girls squeezed tightly together. A bond had been created in that moment, a love forged that hadn’t been there before.

Though neither of the two older Demol girls noticed, and the youngest was far too busy getting her own enema to be concerned with anything else, Girl quietly snapped several shots of the scene. With her artistic sense and voyeur’s interest, she knew that the moment was important, and needed to be recorded.

When Phoebe was sporting her own fluffy Golden Retriever’s tail to match the tails of her sisters, Spike finally nodded in satisfaction.

“You all look a couple months pregnant,” he said with an approving nod. “Which is about where you’ll be by the end of your training, if you keep going this good. Now come,” he commanded, taking up the girls’ leashes. “It’s time for school, and then chores.”

For the girls, the day passed in a strange, heat-tormented blur. None of them could speak, not with the ring gags in their mouths, and mostly they just did their best not to drool too much. Fortunately, Spike and Girl were fairly good teachers, all things considered, and they managed to keep the lessons of the day fairly interesting, switching subjects and activities frequently, to ensure the girls didn’t have enough time to settle into a state of boredom, which might have resulted in their refocusing attention on the sizzling need between their legs. Even so, all that mental effort would have surely worn out the girls’ attention spans, if Spike hadn’t also mixed up their normal school routine with spates of doing chores around the various buildings that abutted his junkyard, cleaning mostly, for which work the girls were allowed to wear protective aprons, and sometimes given permission to stand up, rather than crawl, bottoms held high, as was their typical method of locomotion, per Spike’s orders.

Perhaps the best part of the day’s work was the class where Girl combined botany with home economics, while Spike busied himself with some of the routine but necessary management of his junkyard. The perky cocker spaniel had a well-tended little garden along one edge of the fence surrounding Spike’s property, where it was short enough not to block the sun, and it was here that Girl soon had the teens crawling around in the dirt, weeding and hoeing and otherwise tending the plants and the soil, while Girl explained all the many little details that went into raising each sort of plant, and about gardening and plants in general.

Despite all of Girl’s efforts, however, even Zoey didn’t find it in her to care that much about plants. Getting outside to work was what was really important, especially since there was a light, cool breeze blowing in, with plenty of cloud cover, which helped more than the three girls could possibly express (even if they hadn’t been gagged) to put a chill on the needy heat in their artificially-plumped bellies. Nipples rigid in the cool of the outside, all three sisters shared a look of profound relief before they set to work following Girl’s instructions on those parts of the Garden that she didn’t mind being marred by the hands of amateurs. What was probably best of all: Girl removed their mitts while they were working in the garden, finally allowing the girls the freedom to move their hands again. Until that moment, they’d never realized what a blessing it was to have working fingers!

The relief the girls experienced soon found another outlet, one which Phoebe discovered quite by accident. While crawling around her little patch of garden, the skinny blonde bent forward to pull up a weed, lifting her pert buttocks as she did so, perhaps higher than she would have normally due to the needy ache in her loins. At almost that same moment, another light wind blew over the garden, catching Phoebe’s uplifted, red-flushed cunny, making her moan loudly. In the rows next to her, both Phoebe’s sisters turned at the moan, catching the long-haired blonde’s eye to get her attention. Without speech, Phoebe had to demonstrate what she’d experienced, and soon all three Demol girls were lifting their bottoms high to catch the wind, moaning at how good that chill felt on their overheated quims!

Girl, busy over by the fence, didn’t really notice what her young charges were doing until quite a bit of time had passed, mostly since her nose was close to the soil where she was digging, and the girls were doing just what she’d told them, as she noted out of the corner of her eye from time to time. Eventually, however, the spanielfemme straightened, and almost immediately blinked as she picked up the scent the three human teens were sharing on the wind, before her eyes widened. This could be bad!

Looking up toward the fence, Girl winced as she saw several heads peeking over the low fence, eager yellow eyes fixed on the upturned tushies of the three teens. The wolves! Recently, a gangpack of them had moved into the neighborhood, and had started to dominate the area, claiming it as their turf. Spike had yet to act to curtail the occasional bullying of these newcomers, mostly because he knew a few of them from his war days. For this same reason, the wolves had more-or-less declared Spike’s lot off-limits. Right now, though, it appeared that the boundaries were about to be crossed. Wolves, unlike canomorphs based on domestic breeds, didn’t “take” their mental conditioning as well. Among their many atavisms, they seemed to have no taboos regarding humans as potential breeding stock.

“Girls,” said Girl sweetly, getting to her feet and wishing she was wearing more than some gardening gloves right then. “I think we should go inside for an early lunch.”

Slowly, the sisters raised their heads, blinking, having gotten into the rhythm of their work, having used it to forget the ache in their collective loins. Their minds were slowed, and their reflexes as well, and so it only slowly dawned on them what Girl was saying. What she meant by what she said became immediately evident at the sight of the tall, broad-shouldered alpha male leaning his arms casually on the top of the fence by the garden.

“Nice plot you’ve got here,” he said in a voice that was deep like Spike’s, but more pleasant to the ears, almost hypnotic. If they’d asked, Girl could have warned her charges about how seductive a wolf’s voice could be, as they’d all had their vocal chords very specifically tailored as part of their genetic package. “Rich and fertile,” he continued, playing his eyes over the girls, who stared back with wide eyes, frozen under his gaze. “And beautiful.”

“Thanks,” Girl answered, interposing herself between the wolf and the girls as best she could. “We’ve worked very hard on it. Now if you don’t mind, I’m teaching a class, and I really need to get my students…”

“I’d guess they don’t really want to do whatever you want them to do,” the wolf answered, cutting Girl off, one big hand reaching out, cupping her chin, making her gasp in shock at the contact. “I think what your ‘students’ here need is what me and my pack have to offer.” Subtly, he moved Girl to the side, fixing the girls in his gaze once more, making them tremble under those yellow eyes. “Are you coming over?” he asked, and Phoebe, the most impressionable of the three sisters, started forward, acting on instinct, before Savannah reached out and caught her by the hips with both hands, pulling her back as she shook her head, meeting the wolf’s gaze directly. “Then I guess we’ll come over to your side.”

They were so fast, faster than Savannah had thought was possible, and she’d almost been their semi-willing victim not very long ago at all. In seconds, five of the shaggy, hoary-furred brutes had scrambled over the fence, their large hindpaws leaving deep impressions in the rich loam of the garden. The Alpha deftly turned Girl, gripping her easily by the scruff at the back of her neck (and confirming for the sisters that canomorphs did indeed have a scruff to be gripped), and walked her forward, then lightly pushed her down to all-fours, next to the three humans. Whimpering softly, the four femmes pressed close together, rising up onto their knees to hug each other closely, eyes wide and watching as three more wolves joined the five already in the garden, licking their chops like starving animals, eyeing the girls and Girl up and down as they surrounded them…then closed in.

Phoebe’s high-pitched voice was raised in a squeal through her ring gag as her ankles were suddenly nabbed, and she flopped forward, finding herself dragged suddenly out of the little cluster of femininity, away from the protective circle, and out into the eager arms of the pack, her hands reaching out to try and grab hold of one of the outstretched hands of her sisters or Girl, before her wrists were seized as well, and she was left surrounded by six lusty, big-cocked brutes. While two of the pack stood guard over the others, the alpha gripped Phoebe’s hair, pulling her back against his chest, her pert bottom against the crotch of his jeans, letting her feel the heavy weight of his manhood through the fabric as he knelt behind her in the soft earth. Tugging a little harder, the alpha easily tilted Phoebe’s head back, and bent forward, slowly running his smooth tongue from her collarbone to just beneath her chin, making her whine loudly, trying desperately to form words as she shook her head, squeezing her eyes tightly shut.

“You don’t want me?” the wolf asked teasingly in Phoebe’s ear, even as his hands stroked down her smooth body, heading straight toward the tiny dimple beneath her pubis. The youngest Demol sister shook her head, looking back at the powerful male pleadingly, but he only chuckled in response. “I think you’re lying. And this,” his big hand engulfed her tiny sex, making the little blonde teen gasp loudly, “makes it pretty obvious.” His expression became thoughtful for a moment, before his muzzle spread in a smile that was heart-wrenchingly wicked. “I see now. You need us to convince you.” His fingers started to work between Phoebe’s legs, massaging her arousal-slick folds until she started to moan, arching her hips into his touch. “Happy to oblige.”

Phoebe was obviously starting to really get into what the big wolf was doing, until, suddenly…he stopped! Her eyes flew open wide, and she almost screamed, her wail of need was so loud and desperate. The alpha laughed at the poor human girls’ plight, and nodded toward his cronies, who soon grabbed at Savannah and Zoey, dragging them out as well, tossing them lightly onto their backs, while Girl was pushed onto all-fours. One mauled Zoey’s breasts, while two suckled on Savannah’s, one to each plump mammary, while each girl got an eager wolfman to lick and nibble at her exposed quim, and grip her tailplug, twisting and turning it in time with their greedy, skilled licks. Licks that never quite gave enough pleasure to allow an orgasm, always frustratingly pulling back at just the last moment.

“You’ll beg for us to breed you,” the alpha promised, his fingers working again between Phoebe’s thighs, her juices running in rivers down his wrist and dripping onto the rich, dark ground. “As for teacher,” he glanced at the two wolves holding Girl down, and nodded to them in acknowledgement, while the cocker spaniel looked at him with wide, pleading, puppydog eyes. “Make her cum until she forgets her name!”

“No!” wailed Girl, her voice going very high-pitched as the two eager males suddenly pounced upon her, rough paws spreading her buns wide, thick tongues instantly seeking out her tender tailhole and cunny. “Please, don’t…don’t…ooooh!”

The sounds of Girl being tongueraped just made it that much harder for the poor human teens to concentrate, to try and remember that they didn’t want this, that they hadn’t asked for what was about to happen. Both their bodies tense, Savannah and Zoey shared a despairing look, before turning to watch poor Phoebe as she bucked her hips, trying desperately to get that little bit of extra friction that would let her cum, only for the wily wolf to easily avoid her efforts.

“Nod your head,” he growled seductively in her ear. “Nod to give me permission. Let me in, and I’ll satisfy your wildest sweat-drenched dreams. We all will. Again. And again. And again.”

Phoebe cast her eyes around to her sisters, her own expression one of near-total defeat. She couldn’t hold out, and knew her willpower wasn’t anywhere like that of her older sisters. It just ached so bad! She needed a male, needed to be bred! She was nothing but a morphbitch, to be used as a cocksleeve and discarded like an overfilled condom when they were finished with her. Instinctively, she understood that Spike had been trying to wear her down without quite breaking her, so that he could remake her into something he thought would be far better. Now, however, all her pride and will broke completely, as she resigned herself to being used as an object of lust, these wicked wolves’ walking baby basket…though she expected, after they were done with her, that she wouldn’t be able to walk for quite some time!

Sinking her head in shame, unable to meet her sisters’ eyes anymore, Phoebe gave a soft sob…then nodded her head.

“Phoebe, don’t!” Girl called out, just before her voice was cut off by a high-pitched squeal as the wolf at her cunny hit her g-spot with his tongue. The morphgirl’s words were replaced, however, by the desperate muffled cries of her sisters, trying to tell her the same thing, trying to bring her back from the precipice of total self-collapse as they squirmed in the grips of the wolves already wearing down their own wills, finding themselves too weak to resist, their forced state of heat leaving them as flexible as putty before the erotic energy of these powerful males. Though they managed to rally a little for Phoebe’s sake, they knew just as well as their youngest sister, it was only a matter of time before they were all not just willingly, but eagerly submitting to these savage, feral brutes.

The alpha’s laughter was loud in Phoebe’s ears as he bent her forward onto all-fours, before one big hand pushed her head down, pressing her cheek and breasts into the dirt. She didn’t try to rise again as she felt his powerful hands on her dainty little buns, groping them, squeezing them, mauling them, then spreading them apart before she could feel his searing hot breath on her tender folds.

“Now,” he said, and every word made Phoebe’s whole body tense as they seared across her exposed cunny, “it’s time to give you what you deserve.”

That was the crux of the whole matter, wasn’t it? Phoebe saw herself, really saw herself, without all the normal illusions that teenagers like to cast over their self-perceptions. For far too long, most of her life in fact, she’d been…a bitch. Not the good sort, either. She’d whined, and wheedled, and flirted, and teased, all to get her way. She’d undermined others to improve her station in her highschool’s cliques, used social intimidation, even been a bully when she’d gotten the chance and could get away with it. And that was the humans in her life! Truly seeing how she’d treated morphs…it was enough to make the youngest sister scream, even if the alpha hadn’t pulled his tongue away, once again just before she’d been able to cum.

“Time to make you a mommy,” the wolf chuckled as he rubbed the swollen head of his penis up and down Phoebe’s folds, then slotted it neatly into place, both his hands going to her pert pink buns, squeezing them tightly as his body tensed for the cherry pop plunge, her tailplug pressed firmly against his washboard belly, adding just that little extra stimulation.

Yes…this was what Phoebe deserved. Accepting this harsh truth about herself, she squeezed her eyes shut, and waited for the wolf to give her what her body needed.

Instead, Phoebe heard the alpha grunt suddenly, before her rear end felt cool in the open air, completely free of his touch. Daring to open her eyes, she saw Spike standing over her, his hands balled into heavy fists. Yet, despite his ready combat stance, he gave off a strong sense of being alert, but relaxed.

Rubbing his chest where Spike had caught him with a fist, the alpha got to his feet, his pack scrambling to back up their boss. Spike wasn’t alone either, however, as all three human girls saw when they’d crawled to the side, Savannah and Zoey half-dragging poor, overwrought Phoebe from the field of battle, then cuddling her close. With Spike were two colliemorphs, a boy and a girl, looking not much older than Savannah. Like Spike, they were in ready combat stances, and though they didn’t look quite as relaxed as he did, they radiated a sense of confident battle-readiness.

“We had an understanding, Bardou,” said Spike in calm, careful tones, his red eyes almost seeming to glow behind his dark glasses. “My turf, my rules. You’re just in this neighborhood because I’m allowing it.”

“Sometimes things change,” the alpha wolf answered with a shrug, before stepping forward, his seven wolves flanking him, brimming with enthusiasm for the fight to come. “Let’s see if you can make good on all the hype!”

He could. Girl and the Demol sisters huddled close together, sharing in the comfort of each others’ presences as they watched, wide-eyed, as Spike and his two new companions thoroughly deconstructed the eight wolves. Outnumbered by over two-to-one, and Spike was a thing of pure beauty to behold in battle. The collies, who the girls figured were siblings, possibly even fraternal twins, stuck close to Spike, covering his back and sides, making sure none of the wolves were able to get around to overwhelm him with their numbers, or escape the “kill zone” in front of him, where they didn’t stand a chance.

Actually, calling it a “kill zone” was a little harsh. While Spike’s movements looked pretty bad to an untrained eye, anyone with any combat training would have recognized pretty quickly that Spike was actually going pretty easy on the wolves. He didn’t do anything worse than cracking some ribs, or banging their heads, when he could have opened up and started breaking bones, the best way to end a fight fast. If the wolves had shown some real determination to fight to kill, or had gotten reinforcements, perhaps things would have been different, but Bardou did like Spike, and didn’t want to kill him, and neither did his packbrothers, so they held back as much as Spike did. After Spike knocked several of them flat on their backs, including Bardou himself, while the twins left the rest battered and bruised, the alpha wolf gave a yelping call, and turned-tail, running for and hopping over the fence, the rest of his pack close behind. They’d seen enough to know when they were out of their league – Spike was still the dominant male of the territory.

Breathing hard, sweat matting his fur tight against his body, Spike stood for several long seconds more after the fight ended, then forced a long, slow breath out. His companions, the collie twins, stayed tense for longer, before the girl relaxed, and her brother soon followed suit, and they all turned toward the girls huddled nearby.

“You all right?” asked Spike, reaching out to take Girl’s hand, helping her up, then wrapping his arms around her, holding her close. “I mean…you gonna be all right?”

“Come on,” said the colliegirl, smiling down at Savannah, Zoey, and Phoebe, while she and her brother offered their hands, helping the three humans back to their feet. “Let’s get you cleaned up. You’re a mess!”

After all the grubbing in the dirt, this was the honest truth, and the sisters all knew it, sharing a sheepish chuckle together,

“I’m Rhett,” said the collieboy as they left Spike and Girl in the garden, still holding each other tightly, while Girl quietly sobbed into Spike’s broad chest. “This is Scarlet. Spike brought us here to show you girls how you’re supposed to act when you’re properly trained.”

“He’s the one who trained us both,” Scarlet explained as her brother opened the door to the main building for the four girls. “We were pretty bad, it’s true, but he whipped us into shape. Apparently he thought we’d make good models for you.”

“Not today, though,” Rhett added, looking ruefully outside one last time before shutting the door behind him. “I’m pretty sure Spike’s gonna call the rest of today off. So,” he turned back to the human girls, who only now really noticed that he and Scarlet were as naked as they were, “who’s up for some lunch?”

*

‘Pheromone response: well above expectations. Estrus-simulation hormone response: extreme, more than previously documented in morph subjects. Submission training response: acceptable; see individual reports. Physical development…educational development…attitude adjustment and emotional development…’

Actually, most of the rest of the document told Sadie Demol to look at the individual reports. The black-haired woman was naked as she reclined slightly in her comfortable leather computer chair, no longer so ashamed as she let her eyes play over the pictures of each of her beautiful young daughters Girl had sent to her by links shared in e-mails. Easily uploaded, easily deleted. After all, what was going on was still technically illegal in every state in the Union. Making them only temporarily available only made good sense.

Some of the numerous uploaded documents, videos, and images were incredibly mundane, as Sadie had quickly found out. The overview report in the e-mail that detailed everything going on with her daughters’ training was a good example of this sort of banal update, sharing the general details of how the training was proceeding, without being terribly explicit about the specifics. Sadie didn’t mind, though, and she always made sure to read everything that was shared with her with absolute thoroughness. These were her daughters, after all, and she wanted to make absolutely sure that they were getting the very best of care, especially considering the amount of money she’d paid for their training. Girl seemed to understand the importance of regular updates, however, which Sadie supposed made sense, considering how valuable the morphs that Spike usually trained were considered by their owners. She was a responsible person, Sadie decided, though she’d always had a positive impression of Girl ever since the first time she’d met the cocker spaniel morph, in the front office of Spike’s junkyard. And though her general reports, the ones in the e-mails (the ones that could possibly be traced back to Spike and herself, should Sadie ever try to use them in court – an unlikely occurrence, of course, but a precaution Sadie could understand), were always very general, they were also sufficiently detailed that Sadie seldom needed to read the rest of Girl’s reports, the parts shared through links, in order to know how her daughters were doing.

Just because she didn’t need to read those reports, however, Sadie read them all the same. Sometimes many times.

It had only been two weeks since her daughters had gone to Spike’s junkyard for training to become good girls. Two weeks since Sadie had handed her daughters into the large paws of a powerful, muscular, dominant male morph, a creature she knew to be as much dog as man. Two weeks since she’d checked off the “breeding” box on the paperwork, knowing perfectly well it was (to her understanding at the time) a morph euphemism for sex, and knowing that meant Spike would be the one to deflower her precious, perfect little girls, their tender little vaginas stretched wide on the thick, meaty penis she’d seen time and time again in use on his website, forcing its way into so many other morphs, male as well as female, filling vaginas and mouths and anuses to what simply had to be the mortal limits of the poor dears subjected to Spike’s savage affections.

In none of the videos of Spike mounting morphs was he shown to wear a condom. In the reports beneath each video, no mention of birth control of any sort was ever made. Quite the opposite: every one of the morphgirls Spike was assigned to “breed” typically ended up in the final interview video, to show off how improved she was, sporting a sizable baby bump, or even, two or three times, a baby in her arms. Typically, based on the reports on each of the trainees listed on Spike’s webpage, roughly one to three weeks passed before conception was confirmed in each morphgirl Spike had been assigned to “breed” as well as train. In cases where more than one female was put into his care, multiple pregnancies were almost universal.

Sadie Demol’s three daughters had been in training at Spike’s junkyard for two weeks now.

In those two weeks, Sadie had grown steadily more anxious about the happenings at Spike’s junkyard. Despite Girl’s steadiness in providing reports, those reports were always sent several days after events had already transpired, to ensure they were properly edited and cleaned up to professional grades of quality, especially the images and videos that regularly came linked to each of several e-mails sent in rapid succession. Right then, after two weeks, Sadie only had the results for the first six days of her daughters’ training, the seventh day’s report open before her, presently undergoing her thorough perusal. With each day that passed, and with each new report that came in, Sadie’s thoughts were all the more troubled as she realized what she’d likely done to her daughters.

Sadie strongly suspected that “breeding” wasn’t just a morph euphemism for sex. What she was almost convinced that it actually meant…was breeding.

“I’m too young to be a grandmother,” Sadie whispered softly to the empty room, but even as she said the words, she felt her inner thighs twitch, her exquisitely-toned bottom wriggling despite herself on the supple leather of her chair, belying her true feelings. That is, if the significant wet spot on the seat directly beneath her didn’t reveal those feelings just as thoroughly.

Clicking on the underlying link for “physical development,” Sadie bit her lower lip lightly as she downloaded the images contained therein. Every day after the first full day of training, Spike had positioned Sadie’s daughters, one by one, before a blank wall in various poses, their bodies scrubbed clean, fresh from their morning showers, their smooth pink skins positively glowing from the air drying they’d had only minutes before. Standing upright, looking toward the camera, then facing in each direction, sometimes with legs together, sometimes apart, they always looked beautiful to Sadie, and after the initial shock of the first of these photo reports on how her girls were developing physically, she’d quickly grown to appreciate just how beautiful her daughters really were, lovely and sweet specimens of budding girlish sexuality, deserving not only of her observation, but her appreciation for the works of carefully-sculpted physical art that they were. Following these standard poses were ones that made more sense for morphs, with the girls on all-fours, posing like showdogs on display for the judges. It was while she looked at these images that Sadie always began to feel ‘things’ about her daughters that she knew were not proper for a mother.

During these sequences of images, special attention was always paid to each girls’ back end, which was shown thrust toward the camera, each sequence ending with a set of extreme close-ups. One of those close-ups always showed the pubescent pussies of her daughters red and flushed with obvious arousal, something the attached explanatory documents said was not just normal, but excellent, since it showed how readily the girls were adjusting to their training. The images from the second day (the first recorded) had each girl holding her own labia widely apart while she presented herself to the camera, each of them sporting a clearly-visible hymen, confirming each of their respective virginities. Sadie couldn’t help noticing, however, that in the first shared set of images she’d received, and for several days afterward, Savannah had sported golden bells on her nipples, attached by little copper cups, while her clitoris had sported a similar even smaller cup. She’d also noticed that the perfect pink anal rosebuds of her two younger daughters, Zoey and Phoebe were visibly reddened and…stretched. That was the best word she had for it. The report of that day had called it the result of “reinforcement training.” The videos linked in the report, however, left Sadie lying limp and spent in her chair, her panties thoroughly ruined. That was when Sadie had stopped wearing clothes while reviewing her daughters’ progress.

Videos from the first day showed Sadie’s daughters jogging, naked, around an Olympic-sized track, and every daily report afterward contained similar videos. Each day, a few more exercises were added, a few more challenges for her daughters to overcome. So what if Sadie focused more than was really proper for a mother on the way her daughters’ gorgeous breasts bounced, their exquisite bottoms wiggled and flexed? They were beautiful young women, and she was a healthy young woman herself, one who hadn’t gotten laid in far, far too long. By the sixth day, the one she’d read two days ago, Sadie could already see an improvement in both Zoey and Phoebe (Savannah, of course, stayed about the same – she’d never had any problems with keeping herself in peak condition, even before the training).

Zoey had always been more plump than her sisters, but now, Sadie could see the pounds almost melting off, day by day. Actually, at first, Sadie had been worried about her daughter, seeing her excess fat vanishing so quickly. Once again, however, one of Girl’s well-researched reports soothed the Demol matron’s concerns, explaining how her girls were experiencing increased metabolisms, which had been given a significant boost by both the hormone injection at the start of the training, and by their exposure to morph pheromones, as well as the change in diet and exercise. In short, Sadie’s daughters now had metabolisms like morphs, or very close to it. This change in biochemistry was also the reason for their extreme (and obvious) arousal reaction, visible in each daily set of pictures. For a human without proper supervision, a change like Zoey’s might have been quite dangerous indeed, as muscle built and fat burned off at phenomenal rates. But she was being closely watched by Spike’s expert eyes, and she was also young and healthy. So far, it appeared that Zoey was progressing quite nicely, and every day that passed, Sadie had to admit: she liked looking at her daughter’s gorgeous bod!

As for Phoebe…well, ‘anorexia’ was a dirty word. For some time, Sadie had know about her youngest’s tendencies, had strongly suspected she wasn’t getting in enough food. With the increasing isolation of the mother from her daughters, as each of them had started going her own direction, losing touch with Sadie, and spending more and more time in their own spheres of friends and influence, Sadie had lost track of what her youngest was eating. Even when Phoebe stayed home, she almost never ate at the dinner table, opting instead to go up to her room, taking her food with her. Food that Sadie was almost certain ended up in the trash.

Now, though, Phoebe’s hips were filling out, as were her breasts. Her ribs were no longer visible, and her butt…mmm. If Sadie had been a lesbian, she’d have just loved squeezing the little blonde cutie’s tushie until she squealed! That wasn’t to say that Phoebe was plump, though – she was still petite, small-bodied, fine-boned, and with a little pussy that Sadie could tell at a glance was tight. She’d just lost that scrawny look so prized by fashion designers and men who didn’t know what it really meant. Sadie had also noticed Girl’s report on Phoebe’s progress after the fourth day: “Normal estrus cycle fully restored. Trainee is confirmed to be ovulating normally.”

At that moment, with these thoughts and reminiscences running through her head, Sadie blinked as she reread the list of updates she’d read only moments before, informing her of the general progress made on the seventh day of training. “Attitude adjustment and emotional development” was normal, but there was a final new entry that Sadie hadn’t seen before, one that made her eyes widen: “Summary of trainee servicing.” Following this entry was another: “Servicing has been confirmed successful.”

After the first report’s videos, Sadie had seen some pretty hot things. She’d seen lots of oral activities, and learned for herself what Spike could do to a human girl with that tongue of his. She’d also seen repeatedly how much he seemed to enjoy anal sex, and how much he could make a girl enjoy it, even a tight little cutie like Phoebe with her skinny buns. Savannah had sported a similar stretching to Zoey and Phoebe in the third day’s report – all her daughters had! Thinking about the daily images reviewing her daughters’ development, however, Sadie suddenly came to a realization, and opened the e-mail with Girl’s report on the fourth day. Sure enough, there was a link she’d missed next to each Zoey’s final “presentation” image, squeezed right next to the one showing an extreme closeup of the middle girl’s spread cunny. Missing the second set image link was an easy mistake, one anyone could have made. With a few deft clicks, Sadie opened both links together, positioning them side-by-side.

Just as she’d thought. The first image was the expected one of Zoey reaching back, fingers squeezing into her buns as she spread them wide, looking between her legs at the one taking her picture, though her expression was hard to determine, with her mouth hidden by the swell of her breasts. At the close range of the image, her hymen was still clearly visible. Down at the bottom of the image were the words that had struck Sadie as so strange when she’d first opened the image several days ago, and which had caused her to think of them now, when her memory had been jogged by Girl’s general report: ‘Morning review, before.’ ‘Morning review’ was obvious, but ‘before’?

Another click, and Sadie’s eyes went right away to the words at the bottom of the image. Sure enough: ‘Evening review, after.’ The second half of a two-part visual demonstration that a significant part of the training contract had been fulfilled. The part about breeding.

Sadie switched between the two images, her eyes taking in every detail of the changes between them. In the first, Zoey’s pussy was smooth, flushed, obviously moist, and her virginity was intact. In the second, her hymen was gone, removed cleanly, just like those of so many of the morphgirls Sadie had seen Spike mounting in his training videos. The ones he’d deflowered with a maidenblade, ensuring there would be no pain. From between the deeply-flushed lips of Zoey’s sex oozed a copious flow of thick, creamy semen, so bursting with virile masculine energy, Sadie imagined she could feel it from where she sat. She really could feel the emotions radiating off her daughter, and though it was a still image, she could sense how the middle Demol girl had to be trembling, only barely conscious. She wasn’t holding herself open in this image. There wasn’t any need, as widely-stretched as she was. Instead of looking back, her cheek was resting on the ground, her eyes almost closed, her mouth open as she drooled on the floor, screwed silly. Cycling through the images again and again, Sadie felt her heart pounding, her cheeks flushed, her nipples erect as she saw her precious, beautiful daughter presented both ‘before,’ hymen intact, snug slit pristine, untouched, and ‘after,’ gooey cum gushing from a vagina filled to the brim and overflowing, the girl exhausted, spent, but satisfied. Thoroughly satisfied.

Immediately, Sadie began to review the reports she had before her, with the copious documents, images, and videos contained in their links. She was consumed with the need to gather everything together in her mind, to better understand what had happened to her daughters.

To better imagine herself in their place.

The impulse was too strong now. Sadie’s feelings had been building for the entire two weeks, until now they were at a fever pitch. Yesterday, she’d filled out the paperwork, but she hadn’t sent it. She hadn’t dared! But now…now she finally dared, and deftly clicked her way through Spike’s site. Almost unconsciously, Sadie Demol had been getting all her work in order, making sure her various financial efforts could function perfectly without her supervision for a good three months, perhaps longer. Long enough to ensure that she shared her daughters’ fate.

Her mind made up, Sadie clicked the “Send” button before she could stop herself. There, it was done: she’d signed herself into slavery. Sexual servitude to Spike, until he declared her properly trained as a morph in every respect. Just like her daughters.

Sadie didn’t have any regrets.