With the cold metal bars pressed up against his bare flesh, Malcolm could not truly flinch as the flogger struck his naked pussy. Yet the pain scorched through him nonetheless, the result of which was a shrill cry and an awkward judder which only pressed his body harder into the bars.
When the next strike inevitably came, he tried to grit his teeth but the white-hot agony was overwhelming and he shrieked again. His crotch burning, he whimpered pitifully; partly due to his predicament, but mostly because he knew the flogger would come down harder next time.
As far as his troubles went, being stuck in the body of a woman was, by now, inconsequential. Of course he hated it – his heavy tits, his small frame, his bare cunt – and if the opportunity arose to return to his former self, bald patch and all, he would have leapt at the chance. Yet he knew well enough that opportunity was never going to come; the goddesses ruled all now and there was no reversing that.
No, it was being locked up in here that was his biggest problem.
If he could escape, he was sure he could manage living his days out in this new body, just about. But the slave brothel was a brutal place to be. Each day he found himself hoping one of the goddesses would go too far and administer a fatal beating that he might be freed from his horrific purgatory. Unfortunately he had never been so lucky, and every day they came with their whips and their floggers, their nail-studded paddles and their agonising cattle prods, to deliver all manner of torture to the hundreds of former men locked away in the depths of the brothel.
Sometimes they would request for a slave to be released, but every slave knew this route to freedom was worse than staying locked up, for the goddesses would lead them away to fuck them within an inch of their life in some dark, dismal room full of more terrible implements.
Being used by their bulls was little better, and in Malcom’s mind it was, in fact, worse. Not because they were more brutal, because they weren’t – nothing could compare to the savagery of the goddesses – but because the torture they delivered was mental as well as physical. Beyond the agony of having their tight pussies stretched by goliath cocks, the slaves had to deal with the knowledge they were being abused by those men who had hit the metaphorical jackpot. The bulls, like the slaves, had once been ordinary men – Originals, as the goddesses called them – but when the new world order had taken hold they had been lucky enough to be transformed into the peak of physical fitness, colossal beasts whom the goddesses had no desire to torture. Of course, they had forgotten everything about their former selves, but that was better than being trapped in this wretched place knowing how far one had fallen.
When the flog came down again, something snapped in Malcolm. He simply couldn’t take it anymore. He’d watched other slaves break down, seen them beaten with more savagery than he could fathom as a result, even watched them carried off, never to be seen again. Each time he had assured himself he would never let himself do the same. But he could no longer cling to his sanity: his life stretched out before him as an endless cycle of abuse and brutality and his thoughts were heavy with the memories of the man he had once been.
‘You monsters!’ he roared, ‘You heartless, masochistic bitches! How can you do this? How can you be so brutal? What did we ever do to you to deserve this? The world was better without you and you can all rot in Hell for what you’ve done to us! You’ll pay for this! You’ll fucking pay! We’ll burn you on pyres of your own floggers and whips and your screams will be like music to our ears! You’ll see, sooner or later you’ll see this was all for nothing! You’ll hide in the dark where monsters like you belong as we take back our world!’ Then a desperation took hold of him, and there was only one thing he could think to say. ‘Help! Somebody help me! Please, anybody, HELP!’
The kick to the stomach was sharp and painful, cutting off his protests with ease.
Lying in a blubbering mess, Malcolm didn’t notice the other slaves staring at him with abject terror, horrified understanding in their eyes as they saw their future reflected in him: they would break too, someday. He did, however, see the latex-clad brunette lean over him and scowl. Spitting in his face, she sneered coldly.
‘Dear me, madam,’ she said to somebody out of Malcom’s view, ‘it appears your slaves are incapable of holding their tongue in the presence of their betters. Nor are they able to tolerate the punishment they so rightly deserve.’
‘You would think they would have learned by now their needs and opinions don’t matter,’ replied the other woman, coming into view and kicking Malcolm again.
‘Still, there was something she said I found quite amusing; that part about our screams being music to their ears. As it happens, I think it would be most entertaining to have her screams ringing through my dungeon. I don’t suppose you mind if I take this one home and discipline her myself, would you?’
‘Not at all, Mistress, I shall have him delivered to your residence immediately…’
Two days later, Malcolm’s mind was on the brink of total collapse. His outburst had earned him a far more dire future and he whimpered around his gag as his owner pulled back to deliver another blow. It would not be long before he tumbled into insanity completely, and his goddess was more than happy to remind him about it.
‘I can’t wait until you break,’ she laughed. ‘Not long now, I can see it in your eyes, slave. You’re going to shatter into a million tiny little pieces and you’ll be so broken you’ll never be able to piece yourself together again. That’s the only reason I bought you home with me; so I could be the one to destroy you. It’s only what you deserve, worm. Don’t worry though, once you’ve broken I’ll make sure you’re looked after very well: I hear the public bull stables are looking for new sluts for the bulls to fuck when they’re not in use. That sure sounds like a good place for you – with several cocks in each hole you won’t be able to complain anymore. Sadly, it means you also won’t be able to scream much either, so let’s make the most of the screaming you can do now, shall we?’
Bringing the whip down in a terrifying hiss, the goddess laughed as it cracked across his ass and his shrieks filled the room…
Thanks for reading!
A little return to Latex World Order series for you all, I hope you enjoyed it. I do have a full longer piece ready to post that I might be releasing next month as the monthly serial, since I think this universe would fit well with the Halloween atmosphere. If not, I’ll be sure to post it as the November serial.
It really depends on how much Halloween content I end up putting out and I come up with a longer story idea that I like and have time to write. I’ve considered checking in on Aiden and Erika, but to be honest things are very busy at the minute and I’m not sure if I am going to have time to write much at all. With everything the first half of this year threw at us, the second half seems to be just flying by and all my chances to write seem to be vanishing with it.
So yeah, not sure when you’ll get to read the next long Latex World Order story, but it’ll be in the next couple of months one way or the other.
I would love to hear your thoughts on my work, so please leave me a comment!
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2 Thoughts on “A Latex World Order Short Story – Broken”
I love this world so much, it’s so intensely, darkly erotic. Great work.
Given it was the first story I released on my blog and started me on this path it certainly feels like my little baby and I like the chance to explore a world that is as you say intensely, darkly erotic. Glad you enjoyed it and looking forward to releasing my next full piece in this world next month!