Well, hello to some old friends and possibly some new acquaintances.

Some of you may know me from RC and RU. I have been away for a while and am not as prolific as I once was. But I am intrigued by the friendly mood on this site, so thought I’d put out the latest installment of my DevTech saga.

It’s viable as a stand alone piece, but may be the start of another extended story arc. Those of you who know my work will recognize some of the characters and how it fits into the DevTech universe.

I am afraid I don’t know the tagging system here, so would welcome some guidance if I have got this wrong.

Anyway, here goes…

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Her throat muscles convulsed and rippled pleasurably on the head of my cock lodged deeply in her windpipe. I could feel the bulge of her neck quivering and trembling like a frightened bird in the palm of my hand, as it securely encircled her throat. I held her head firmly down in my groin, using my fist which was twisted in her fine blond hair.

The rest of her naked body was balanced on her knees beside me on the couch, glorious ass squirming helplessly towards the heavens, while her torso arched and shuddered with her choking lack of air. Fortunately for her, any gag reflex must have been previously fucked out of her and her small neck relentlessly stretched from within, because she had unhesitatingly swallowed me into her throat on the first thrust. Her hands were clasped desperately together – fingers white with strain – fists tucked tightly into the small of her back, where I’d instructed her to keep them ‘no matter what’.

Despite the fact that I had been enjoying the tight swallowing and spasming of her throat for over a minute, she made no attempt to resist or pull back. Since I’d done this to her five times before, I was familiar with the spastically slowing movements as the oxygen in her lungs depleted and she edged towards blackout. The fact that she understood that my enjoyment was more important than her right to breath was intoxicating. This knowledge heightened the pleasurable sensations emanating from my groin as her gulping gullet frantically tried to extract my climax, the only possible escape from her ceaseless torment.

Joachim lay back on a couch opposite me, with a lithe brunette in the same predicament. He was the one who had demonstrated and then encouragement me to try this extreme form of fellatio. We were enjoying his compound girls, women who were so utterly broken that no thought of disobedience or resistance entered their beautiful heads. They were pretty fucktoys, created for our pleasure, and that is all they would ever be, or at least until Joachim had extracted everything they had to give and more, before probably discarding them to an even worse fate.

I’d been at the compound for a whole day and had experienced all of the largess and much of the excess provided by my host. One of the wildest parties, or more accurate orgies, that I’d ever attended with a seeming endless supply of gourmet food, premium drinks and stunning females. Joachim’s men had first honoured and then celebrated the life of their fallen comrade, while feasting gluttonously on everything freely available to them.

This wasn’t like the seemingly ‘sophisticated’ abuse of Devtech woman by the company executives that I’d experienced thus far, but rather the brutal rutting of hapless females by hardened gangsters. There must have been about twenty men fornicating in scattered groups around the large living room and spilling out onto the veranda that stretched along the entire front of the mansion.

These were Joachim’s commandos, many of whom I had seen earlier, armed and warily watching or patrolling the grounds as we had approached the compound from across the lake. After we’d arrived at the water’s edge from the destroyed villa that morning, the vehicle had been parked ad I’d been taken to a camouflaged boathouse under the large overgrown trees. There we’d boarded a fast retro-looking wooden runabout boat to cross the water to this isolated estate.

It seemed that the lake was the only way to get to the compound, although I did see a helipad without a helicopter. I wondered - but was not told - whether there was a similar escape tunnel to the one at the villa, concluding to myself that Joachim was too wily a character not to have various contingency plans, especially at such a significant site for his business. Like Tao’s resort on the top of the hill, the isolation was probably enough to prevent anyone getting in, or as importantly for the obviously unwilling female guests, from leaving without approval and armed escort.

There was also a larger boat that I was told was for supplies and would carry the female cargo from the truck when it arrived after us. That boat had docked at the compound a couple of hours later, once we’d settled into our rooms and Joachim was giving me a guided tour around his mansion. I hadn’t seen the women from the villa since then, they and Ana Carla being taken for processing and training, or so I was told. Joachim implied that I would have every chance to enjoy them at a later time, but that the evening’s entertainment would only be by trained obedient playthings.

The mansion was quite spectacular in its industrial architectural style, concrete, stone and wood juxtaposed to give a modern avant-garde feeling to the double story building. It was decorated sparsely but elegantly reflecting the avowedly masculine and cultured owner, with modern original paintings on the walls and minimalist furniture in the living spaces. Despite their austere appearance, the chairs were comfortable and the ergonomics of the room worked really well. If it wasn’t for the depravity all around me, I might have mistaken it for a modern clubhouse on a private residential estate. But in reality, it was anything but…

I’d been taken down to the basement, which reminded me of the DevTech mansion in Istanbul, a place for keeping, training and punishing captured whores. There seemed to be space for more than forty girls, held in small four-person dormitory-like cells. It was as silent as a tomb when we entered, the no-talking rule for the women being ruthlessly enforced by watching cameras and concealed guards. Joachim casually explained that he believed that a zero-tolerance approach was necessary and severe punishment for the slightest infraction ensured unwavering compliance.

I’d seen a number of women down there that morning, every one of them standing submissively to attention with their feet shoulder width apart to present their bald pussies, hands behind their backs and naked breasts thrust out towards us as we passed. They had vacant broken expressions on their pretty faces, fear and hopelessness etched into their downcast eyes. That evening all around the room, I’d seen many that I recognised from the basement being used as entertainment for the party. But now however they had fake eager smiles and fawning lustful expressions plastered onto their beautifully made-up features, all while they energetically provided degrading pleasure and entertainment in whatever way they were instructed by the rough demanding men.

A casual observer might mistakenly think this was all consensual, because the required behaviour had been so thoroughly learned, as if deeply ingrained to their very souls. However, when one actually looked more closely into their eyes, the same horrified resignation of what was being done to them - which I’d noticed that morning on our walkaround - was evident behind their enthusiastic masks. And while their movements managed to be erotic and sexualised, there was an air of desperation apparent in the frenetic movements of every one of them.

Now one might wonder why I allowed my attention to be diverted from the enjoyable oral ministrations of the head in my lap. It wasn’t that I did not appreciate her efforts or the toll it was taking on her slender body, but rather that I was relishing it so much that I wanted to last as long as possible. I’ve found that mental distraction enables just that and makes the climax even more satisfying when it eventually comes, no pun intended…

So while I absently took it all in, I couldn’t avoid recalling Joachim’s philosophy that unwavering obedience was what he demanded of his fuck toys and that he didn’t care whether they retained their personalities or character. While we had walked around the compound, Joachim had nonchalantly described how any defiance or spark was thoroughly beaten out of his whores, in order to transform them into automated beings programmed solely to provide for male enjoyment. They were like beautiful empty shells, only required to be submissive, sultry and seductive.

He euphemistically admitted that through the process they did lose a few, but that was the price of his exacting requirements for unwavering compliance. He had not gone into details about what ‘losing a few’ entailed and I didn’t ask.

But this mentally and physically obedience seemed at odds with their emotional state, which seemed to border on helpless despair coupled with abject terror. They were transparently miserable but broken enough to hide their true feelings, instead making themselves seem happy and enthusiastic about every abuse, humiliation and degradation they were forced to endure. I believed their anxiety was warranted and was due to myriad causes, all related to the threat of suffering more agony. Painful punishment for a small mistake, lack or attention, inadequate excitement, poor technique, flagging energy, or not being pleasing enough… or just because some sadistic bastard wanted to! The realisation that despite how bad something was, in Joachim’s care, it could always be worse.

For depraved men like Joachim and his commandos, and I have to admit that I include myself in this despicable group, this seeming dichotomy was the greatest aphrodisiac. Just thinking about the control this implied – the extreme power we had over these otherwise viable human beings - made my cock harden and lurch deeper into my pet’s throat. That every single woman in the room wanted to prove that they were the best fucktoy that they could be and had truly embraced their roles as nothing more than cock worshipping whores, was nothing short of ecstatic. What they were before or might have been was irrelevant… This hellish reality was all they could look forward to, only slightly assuaged by trying to take some small pleasure in their sexual congress or avoiding worse pain through their sycophantic behaviour.

Laughing, he had told me that even when they were required to perform lesbian acts on each other, this was purely for his men’s amusement and arousal rather than their pleasure. He loved the idea of making otherwise straight women pretend to enjoy sapphic acts, enjoying their disgust and humiliation hidden under fake leers and simpering giggles. Joachim scoffed at the idea of providing his whores for any other women’s enjoyment, implying that he would rather see these other sluts on their knees diligently serving him side-by-side with his trained whores.

My attention returned to the unnamed blond who was still diligently sucking, swallowing and licking for my pleasure, despite her body involuntarily spasming beside me - albeit increasingly weakly as her air ran out. When she eventually started to go limp, I pulled her off my cock by the hair. Even then, her ragged gasping for precious air didn’t prevent her tongue from actively stroking and swirling around my shaft like the well-trained fuck puppet she was.

Glancing across at Joachim, I noticed that his whore was jerking his embedded cock off with her hands, by squeezing and rubbing it through her bulging neck. Her inward focused gaze peered out vacantly through streaming eyes, her head lodged firmly between his thighs, while her drooling mouth was mashed into his groin. I noticed how the skin on her neck and cheeks had turned crimson with her effort and asphyxiation and I continued to marvel at his ingenuity at abusing the whores at his disposal, extracting every morsel of pleasure he could from their defenceless orifices through his uncaring misuse.

In contrast, Guido stood off to my right, behind two dark-haired beauties bent over side-by-side, their black stocking clad legs poised absolutely straight, ending in pointed feet strapped into high heeled stilettos that were delicately positioned shoulder width apart. All while they flawlessly held their torsos perfectly horizontal, if slightly arched with their hands placed firmly on their backsides, spreading themselves open as they gyrated their rear ends seductively and kissed each other sensually, according to his strict instructions.

He casually alternated between their four available fuck holes, holding their long dark hair like reigns to pull them onto himself. This caused their pert breasts to jiggle enticingly with the jolting attention one or other of their holes received. Their nipples were hard dark nubs, sticking erectly out from their smooth breast meat. Whether this was due to natural arousal or trained response I wasn’t sure, but it definitely added to the erotic picture they presented. He had built up a rhythm of about ten thrusts before cycling onto the next fuck hole in a systematic pattern of pussy-asshole-pussy-asshole… repeat!

The tempo of their movements quickened whenever he was inside one of them, behaving like they were desperate to get him to cum. Which of course they were, because he’d explained that they were all playing a fun game, to see which of them was the best sex slave. The winner would be the one he shot his spunk into, while the loser would be severely punished for her lack of effort.

While their kissing tongues intertwined with faux passion, eager lustful expressions on their elegantly made-up faces, they couldn’t keep the panic from their eyes. They would glance furtively back at Guido as they made out, their eyes betraying the angst they felt, particularly when he was busy ploughing the other girl. He wore a cruel smirk as he eyed their nakedness, in stark contrast to his checked shirt and worn jeans, cock jutting arrogantly from his fly.

I watched with interest as he gripped the hair of the girl he was fucking and pulled her firmly back, thrusting more quickly until he grunted and gritted his teeth in what looked like a very satisfying climax. Neither woman faltered in their slavish tasks or positions, but I noticed a look of relief flood the winner’s countenance and a couple of devastated tears drip from the loser’s fearful eyes.

I was getting close to my own peak, so I seated my cock far into my whore’s tight welcoming throat, to receive the glorious massage from her cramping neck as she slowly choked on my hard meat. The debauchery around me combined with the sensations I was feeling, caused the familiar tingling in my balls followed by the pulsing ecstasy of my ejaculation straight into her gullet. She swallowed dutifully, still not letting go of her hands nor changing her body position as I ground her face into my lap and shot my seed straight into her stomach.

In retrospect I realise that I should have felt some sympathy for these women. But to be honest it didn’t occur to me, given how far I had descended into this depraved world and how much I was enjoying its excess. I reclined contentedly, basking in the afterglow of my release and relishing the power I had to do whatever I wanted to these unfortunate sluts, purely for my own gratification. The blond’s mouth enthusiastically slurped and licked at my wilting member, cleaning it of any residue while quietly trying to gulp breaths of air into her agonised heaving lungs.

Her anguished eyes looked up at me for the first time since she had begun, trepidation and anxiety plain to see, hoping for my approval or at least no disapproval, clearly not sure she had done enough, despite the effort she had expended and the discomfort she had endured. Like all the whores there, she knew I didn’t care about her anguish but that did not distract her from the purpose and understanding that she’d had beaten into her entire being… to be the best fucktoy she could be and hopefully avoid a small fraction of the inevitable pain and degradation that was her existence.

Joachim had explained on our tour that these women were harvested from around the region, from Argentina to Columbia. Some were local inhabitants, usually from the larger cities where people went missing all the time, while many were international tourists finding themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time. Regardless of their origins, the results were the same… trained eager sexual playthings to be used, transferred or sold.

Casually slipping a hand under her chest to casually fondle the fleshy mounds, I looked more attentively around the room. She continued to suckle me because I had not given her any other instruction, and that was her role. I didn’t even know her name, not having been introduced when Joachim and I had entered the room and found them waiting patiently to serve us in whatever way we desired. He had hardly acknowledged them, rather instructing me in the fine art of choking fellatio and expecting them to voluntarily subject themselves to our abuse.

We were in a large room, probably twenty yards by ten, decorated in the same industrial style as the rest of the house. A style that allowed the various bolts and restraint points embedded in the concrete to blend in, although the few women bound in waiting made it clear of their intended use. The floor was polished cement with a grey-green tint, which matched the subtle paint on the concrete walls. Wooden beams crossed the ceiling, giving a flash of warmth to the otherwise Spartan decor.

The furnishings were wood and steel frames, with gunmetal grey upholstery. Altogether a very masculine space and totally appropriate for the owner and its use. Pendant lights spilled a warm glow over the groups of chairs and tables. Large glass sliding doors had been opened to the heavy humid warmth of the evening air as light spilled out onto the veranda and lawns beyond.

A choking sobbing sound made me look back at Joachim, who at that moment was grinding his whore’s face down onto his balls. Wearing an expression of utmost satisfaction, he appeared to release himself down her throat. He finally allowed her to pull him out of her tight throat, revealing a look of true degradation and despair, which she quickly attempted to hide with an obsequious forced smile when she saw me watching her.

A few yards to my left, in the same cluster of chairs that Joachim and I were seated, Boni was slouched in an armchair. His immense frame spilled over the sides as a petite Asian girl bounced on his lap reverse cowgirl, facing towards me. Sweat from her exertion covered her face and chest, as she had been ploughing his large organ into her tight quim for quite a while.

At some stage in the afternoon Joachim had mentioned that Boni has taken a liking to her diminutive submission during their earlier period at the villa and was pleased to be reacquainted with her at the compound. He had laughingly said that she would now definitely be an even more enjoyable fuck toy for the large man, given that she had spent the past few days undergoing intensive obedience and sexual training. While not finished it was far enough along and she had proved to be sufficiently meek, that she was ‘invited’ to the party. She was the only one of the abducted models to have been deemed ready…

Despite her obvious exhaustion from having begun her stiff ride at least half an hour earlier, the severe training and her natural fitness seemed to be paying off, because she didn’t seem to have slowed down nor paused the sexy undulation of her pelvis to provide him with both aesthetic and tactile pleasure. Or possibly it was Boni striking her slim backside with a forceful slap any time she seemed to slightly falter. He lay largely immobile, eyes closed with an almost blissful expression from the sensations she was providing with her diligent effort. It seemed he was giving silent instruction on tempo and gyration with the fingers of his hand placed on her hip, even when he wasn’t leaving a red handprint on her rump to urge greater effort.

She was wearing an evidently trained but crooked smile that flashed a pained involuntary grimace every time she bottomed out, probably as he bashed into the sensitive entrance to her womb. But she forced the smile back on each cycle, occasionally looking over her shoulder at him pleadingly but not expecting any mercy. Or mostly staring down in concentration at the floor, to avoid meeting the lecherous heartless gazes of the surrounding males. The other females in the room were too busy suffering their own ordeals to have time to furtively or supportively glance at one another.

Beyond them, two other women were bent over a pool table side by side, one a redhead with pale complexion and the other a brunette with olive skin. They had been instructed to coyly hold each other’s hands as the men behind them hammered away at their rears and the men in front slid forcefully into their throats. From my vantage point, it looked like they were gripping each other, as if holding on for dear life while they were pounded from each end. They were both perched on tiptoe to meet the assault with arched backs and taught calves, their heads pulled far back by the hair to ensure that their mouths provided a straight unimpeded channel into their spasming throats. Occasionally one of the men would thrust particularly hard, pulling viciously on their head or hips, snarling degrading comments at them, like ‘tighten your fucking cunt’ or ‘squeeze my dick in your slut throat’.

They were receiving fierce blows on their backs with a leather belt wielded by an amused observer, whenever they slightly relaxed their trembling legs or tried to shift their faces away from the brutal oral onslaught. Any attempt to reduce their discomfort or ease their suffering was met with harsh punishment, no matter how slight or reflexive it may have been. The criss-cross of red marks indicated how long they had been at it and how poorly the men judged their performance. Even though I never saw their hips or mouths waver by more than a few millimetres… Such was the existence of Joachim’s whores.

Both their faces were a mess of slobber and tears from the ruthless pummelling that their throats were enduring, eyes focused unblinking up at the faces of the men who were abusing their mouths. A few other comrades were standing around drinking beer from quart sized bottles, heartlessly laughing and joking at their plight. It seemed that they were waiting their turn, while being sucked by a couple of kneeling women who rotated between the exposed cocks using their mouths and hands to ensure continued aroused readiness. The fluffers were largely ignored except when a mistake was made or one of the men got too close to climax, in which case they received a harsh slap across the face and a curt reprimand that they’d get their turn on the table in due course.

These were hard brutal men that lived life intensely and violently, viewing these women only as objects for their gratification. I don’t recall ever experiencing quite such a brutal gangrape of helpless females, who in turn were trying their best to obey and serve.

As I watched, it seemed that one of the men using the redhead’s throat had reached his climax because with a bellow he thrust deep and held himself, rocking slightly as he emptied his balls down her gullet. When he pulled out, a line of spittle and cum draped from her lips to his cock, before she hacked up a wad of spit and semen in a bout of involuntary coughing. That only got her a cracking slap across the cheek at growled order to “Swallow my cum, you stupid cunt.” Which she desperately did, licking and slurping the slime pooled below her head on the table. The man behind never slowed down his relentless pounding, nor his instructions to keep her ass raised to his satisfaction.

Not giving her any further respite, one of the other men grabbed her hair pulling her up to face him, back arched and mouth hanging open. He slapped her with his hardening member across the cheek, causing her to recoil, not from pain but rather the casual humiliation. But she never broke eye contact with him, trying to demonstrate her submission, even sticking her tongue out invitingly.

“What do you say?” He growled at her as he slapped his meat on the outstretched pinkness.

“Please fuck my whore throat, sir.” She simpered hoarsely up at him, flicking the tip against his glans in between each word. “Use my mouth and cum down my throat. I’ll swallow every drop, I promise.”

There was no fight in her entire being, only a desire to do whatever he wanted, to hopefully avoid additional pain or punishment. That seemed to satisfy him because he thrust his hips forward, causing his hardened member to slide into her mouth like a hot knife into butter. The momentum from the man pounding her forcefully from behind caused her nose to rub in his pubic hair as he held himself deep in her throat.

I idly wondered about their stories and the past lives of all the unfortunate women turned whores in the room. The redhead was gorgeous with what once must have been intelligent and curious eyes. Maybe a university student on holiday in South America, eager to see Patagonia and the southern tip of the continent. But captured before fulfilling her dream, now only seeing an endless procession of cocks and brutal men in an endless nightmare, her eyes reduced to pools of despair.

No different to the DevTech whores or Joao’s coffee girls I’d enjoyed, but possibly exposed to more vicious antics. Or maybe not, if I recalled Andre’s treatment of Bella or our induction of Virginie into her dismal future. In this world, I don’t think one could have any sense of superiority about the severity of torment that is inflicted. It is all pretty grim if you are a female on the receiving end, or utterly delightful if you happen to be an entitled man…

The sensual licking and suckling that my personal slut was providing, illustrated just that point. I felt myself start to harden again, which made me wonder whether a repeat act or something different… knowing that I could have anything I desired from any one of these unwilling but obedient whores.

“Please don’t send me away, Sir.” Desperate wailing pulled my attention over to the right. “Layla is very good at using her ass and cunt for you. She’d love nothing better than to spend the rest of her worthless life giving you and your friends pleasure whhhaaaa…”

Her words were abruptly cut off with her scream as the man behind her violently twisted her head with the fist of hair in his hand, forcing her to look close up into his cruel visage as he growled in a baritone voice. “Since when did you become the judge of how good your fuck holes are? You can’t even ride us without help.”

To emphasise his point, he pulled her upwards by the hair before dropping her back down onto the two cocks invading her nether holes. She was a slim Latina, sandwiched between two large men who were standing facing each other and brutally double teaming her. Muscled brutes who towered over her by at least a foot and had a hundred pounds on her and clearly didn’t give a damn about her efforts nor her welfare.

“S-sorry, S-sir. Layla is <aaahhh> a-a stupid cunt.” She groaned as she bottomed out on the two hard spikes driving into her guts. “She really wants to be better. She will try harder. Her holes are only meant for you to destroy. See how tight they…” I could see the concentration on her face as she seemed to be contracting her pelvic muscles for their pleasure, as they pulled her back up “can be”.

Her hands had been tied behind her back, hand to elbow, thereby incapacitating her. Her slender legs were writhing desperately, trying unsuccessfully to get some traction around the hips of the man in front of her, in a vain attempt to take some weight off her battered holes. But all she could do was squirm helplessly and wait for them to pick her up and drop her back down like a pile driver.

“You’d better try harder, you stupid twat.” The man seated deeply in her rectum snarled as he shifted his hands to grab her tits firmly enough to use them as handles to pull her up a few inches before driving her back down. “Otherwise, we’ll ship you out to the camps tomorrow.”

“Yes, Sir.” She panted as she rocked back and forth on their poles, clenching her jaw as if in time with the rhythmic clasping of her vagina and anus, tears of desperation and dread dripping down her cheeks. “Please don’t send <uuuhh> me to the camps <aaahh> I’ll be good <uuuhh> I’ll try harder.”

“You’d better be better than good whore… you’d better be incredible.” The man facing her while embedded in her cunt taunted. All while they alternatively thrust into her holes, making her jiggle and jerk awkwardly between them. “Good isn’t enough!”

Similar merciless acts of depravity were occurring all around the room. Some merely physical, but others with malicious emotional dimensions. In some cases, taunting a desperately dutiful whore for pure entertainment value, while in others threatening punishment to ensure greater effort and eagerness in the performance of degrading acts.

Watching the antics and cruelty around me made it clear that this was a brutal and depraved world that I’d fallen into with Joachim and his men. He’d told me about the ruthless training these women received, either for sale or their personal use. He’d also obliquely mentioned the ‘camps’, where less valuable or incalcitrant whores were sent to service his workers in remote workcamps in the jungle. It seemed that once they were sent there, they didn’t return. The response of the poor girl and her abject servility was clearly driven by the threat and fear of that possible future, an additional tool that was used to subjugate and train these women, ensuring they always tried to be better…

Leaning back, relaxing with my cock hardening under the ministrations of my personal whore and looking forward to further depraved experiences in what had thus far been a very enjoyable evening, I began to piece together the various bits of information I had gained from earlier calls with Ivan and Joao, as well as the subsequent discussion with Joachim just before arriving at the party.

It seemed we were under threat. Our enemies were closing int. And I’d been tasked to manage, and in fact to eliminate the risk…

While I acknowledged the significance of the challenge I was facing, I also felt somewhat heartened that in Joachim I had a ruthless ally and someone who would do what was required… whatever that was!