Dark Elven Sperm Farm

Literotic asexstories – Dark Elven Sperm Farm by EstebanMamono,EstebanMamono
Ever since a cold, uneasy truce settled between the Monstergirl Empire known as “Mamono Reik” and the Human Empire, more humans had been accepted into visiting the monstergirl lands for strange pleasures, delights, and goods. Some would leave with joy, some would stay for a while, and some would stay for good…freely or in chains.

Most species were very friendly, eager to meet, talk, and of course, make love to satisfy their need for human essence.

Some, like dark elves or some crueler types of succubi, were mostly content to use humans like cattle, albeit cared for.

*-*-*-*

The Anubis girl’s cheeks flushed:

“I don’t like the practice, lady. Let’s get this over with.”

The Health Inspector came wearing her Kemet best white cotton shendyt and all, her Ureaus Snake Circlet gleaming on her forehead as much as her sweating forehead, her big jackal ears and fluffy tail twitching nervously. Behind the ambivalent, nervous Anubis girl stood her slave, a ginger human girl with sparkling green eyes, wearing a silver collar on her neck and silver cuffs on her ankles and wrists to signify her position, and nothing else save for a small backpack to carry Amani’s papers and serve as her personal notepad. Amani treated Eilie like a friend and family: total nudity in public was the young girl’s preference. She loved the attention human adventurers gave her body as she strolled naked behind her mistress.

Inspecting Human Sperm Farms was always an awkward task: the least valuable or appealing human males falling into slavery would be dragged here: to have their cocks milked for days at no end, supplying the essence potions and pills for succubi and mamono with fewer qualms who do not want to waste time or love sexual contact with humans. Put into elaborate erotic bondage gear or simple stocks, the captive slave men would be caressed, stroked, sucked, and massaged by female workers like cows- or bulls, a word more appropriate for this situation. Amani was sent by the local governess for a routine health inspection and to oversee that the human slaves being cock-milked were not excessively abused.

Eilie kept smiling, happy to tag along, Amani had a good idea why.

“You’ll see that The Greba Essence Farm keeps health standards to the letter, the healthiest “bulls” the Honorable Dark Elven Slaver’s Guild provides us, milked in the most hygienic environments and no longer than the indenture contracts dictate with mandated rest periods.” The succubus farm co-owner spoke, adjusting her glasses and showing elaborate pie charts the fluffy Anubis monstergirl understood nothing about. She wore a doctor’s lab coat, her hooved feet needing no shoes, her spade tail jeweled with a circlet at the base. “Feel free to inspect the human slaves being cock-milked. Perhaps you’ll even enjoy the sight.” Her yes-woman, a dark elven secretary with a pencil skirt and dark office suit nodded hastily, putting a signed document in front of the Anubis Health Inspector with a wall of text scribbled on it.

It was the weakness of the Anubis, a race of obsessive-compulsive desert guardians serving as lawyers and morticians, detectives, and government bureaucrats. Amani would be busy reading for hours while any unscrupulous inspectee would hide any skeletons in the closet, hopefully not literal.

“I trust that you will see that our methods are pristine and as ethical as feasibility allows, for we intend to expand to mamono and human dairy industry utilizing monstergirl and human women as well, free and otherwise. So many minotaur and holstaurus women are under-utilized in the Dark Elf Queendom’s slave workforce, to speak nothing of free citizens of the same species who can earn a side income.”

Eilie grinned, making the succubus smile at her. Amani was not amused.

Greba’s family was one hell of a Dark Elven Dynasty, having joined the pro-human Succubus’ Empress Agrat in the earliest days of the Maou Revolution. That said, they were dark elves, and did not abandon slavery in their lands, but reformed it and prevented extreme abuses, trading productivity for what passed for morality and mercy. As such, they handled most of the human slave trade and branched out to correctional slavery for monstergirl criminals, and virtually dominated every sector that used less-than-free labor or mamono body resources.

Opening the wide wooden door, Amani entered a large barn for the lack of a better description, her eyes growing with shock, her little Anubis heart in her bosom beating faster, her cheeks suddenly feeling the rush of heat.

It was like a cattle farm, but the livestock were human men. A sea of restrained, nude human males, lay before her, her ears pulling back from the feeling of alarm and confusion.

Naked young men, and older males, were put to stocks, fragrant succubus hood masks keeping them docile and relaxed. Naked, their cocks and balls dangled freely, cocks fully erect and throbbing, either stuck to suction cups pumping their seed into the complex goblin machinery refining it, located at the center of the huge room supported by steel pillars, or being milked by women who loved masturbating restrained men like animals. Some women were not just masked for hygienic reasons but were veiled and fully covered as well, likely wealthy Araby girls and women visiting to play with men’s cocks away from their socially oppressive atmosphere. A pair of Araby girls in full-body niqabs whispered to each other quietly, giggling as they softly stroked a young boy’s exposed penis with gloved hands, who could helplessly moan in his aphrodisiac mask, put into stocks, helpless. He couldn’t even wiggle his ass from the gloved spankings the bigger niqabi girl delivered occasionally, laughing under her veil, the younger one gasping and laughing as the poor slave boy’s penis twitched, sending another blast of cum inside the suction hose. Giving his soft, hairless balls soft, periodic squeezes, she made sure the boy kept cumming, gasping, and screaming under the gag. The succubus gave the girl a thumbs-up and a grin before moving on, both Araby girls laughing amongst each other as they kept tormenting the boy with spankings and tickles.

“We get tourist milkers as well, you see…” The succubus grinned, leading the Anubis and her servant across the milking stalls. “Saves us costs, and since mamono women require essence, human women serve as great cock-milkers whose gains are only financial or enjoyment from the practice. Some slave women from the city municipality even volunteer on their off-time for fun.”

“Fun.” The Anubis smirked, rolling her eyes and sighing. “Humans.” Her servant girl Eilie leaned to the Anubis’ fluffy ear and whispered:

“Mistress, do you mind if I…try my hand as well?” She was eyeing a naked young blond boy who moaned and shook, his cock pumping gouts of seed inside the suction hose, his wrists and ankles suspended above the hay-lined ground with a chain harness balancing his limbs and waist like a reverse hammock. Smiling, she sat next to the boy, laying a hand on his buttocks, and another gently fondling his balls.

“What’s your name?” She whispered gently in his ear. “I’m Eilie.”

Sighing, the Anubis nodded wearily. “Go ahead, Eilie. Just be at the entrance when I’m done here. And be gentle with him.”

“Will do!”

The Succubus co-owner kept leading the Anubis inspector, showing naked men, each tattooed with a “SLAVE” insignia and a serial number on their lower legs.

“We use mostly mechanized milkers, but to break the monotony and provide our male cattle comfort and pleasure, we often employ manual milkers. Our slave cattle men swim in endless pleasure, bondage, exposure, and gentle feminine humiliation. Human girls from abroad with harsh cultures enjoy visiting and humiliating men’s cocks for a change. Mostly devout Araby and Maghrebi girls, though we get Zipangu, Zhong, and Hangguk visitors during Autumn who prefer torturing young white boys. Some even buy the boys and marry them, settling down here, in a freer land.” The succubus grinned. “Not that the boys have a choice, nor dislike an exotic Zipangu or Zhong wife that will own them.”

Amani looked slightly less uneasy, for the scent of semen and male bodies, no matter how hygienic, still entered her nostrils owing to her Anubis heritage. Her kind, the Anubis monstergirls of Kemet, had the blood of Iwiw, the black, ever-tracking desert hound. She saw Eilie whisper sweet words in the suspended slave boy’s ear, her small hands massaging his cock and balls, squeezing the pale shaft, and stroking it. The ginger girl grinned, seeing the boy’s balls shrink and retract, and a blast of cum getting sucked into the suction hoses. Her hand didn’t stop, she was showering the boy’s neck with gentle kisses, both hands squeezing and stroking his balls and shaft; the poor boy could only moan and shudder, constantly ejaculating like a bull. Happily humming, Eilie kept gently stroking, watching the boy shudder, retract his balls and periodically get his semen harvested like an animal on a farm.

Shaking her head, the Anubis put down her golden Ma’at staff and raised her paws, eyes glowing as she started to chant a spell for detecting disease and despair. Time to get to work.

The Kemet runes glowed blue, letting her scan the aura of the male milking farm. The succubus co-owner was speaking the truth.

Emotions of joy, relief, and lust bloomed around her enchanted eyes like flowers: these men, even if enslaved, were in a rapturous dreamland, bursting with virility and feeling joy in nurturing succubi and other monster girls. The younger boys weren’t even masked and given aphrodisiacs, Otep could feel duty and happiness as the helpless, beautiful, hogtied boys felt the pleasure of being owned and their balls slowly harvested for their essence.

No illnesses were present either.

So far so good. Otep waved her paw, dismissing a rune and changing her view.

The slave quarters downstairs where the men slept weren’t any different. Auras spoke of quiet relaxation, and no despair: some cells had aura readings of human females sleeping, apparently labor slaves tasked with cleaning and milking by hand, one female aura seemingly cleaning the floor with a brush on all fours. Two were talking with each other in their cells, relaxing on the bed, Otep couldn’t make out the words from long-distance auspex, however. The cells seemed to be communal dormitories for females, single-bed cells for males, and men chained to the bedposts in their off-duty time.

As much as Otep detested such practices, everything was in Slave Code Parameters mandated by Agrat’s Law of Slave Wellbeing.

A sweet voice made her turn.

“You can follow me upstairs to interview the awakened slaves if you insist.”

The other owner of the Semen Farm stood before her, Greba the 20th.

The dark elf was rather short, wearing a rancher’s hat and leather clothes in a lewd mockery of the human male cattle farm she ran. Her short, white hair was done in curls, and a bullwhip hung on her waist, her large, black breasts straining the white cotton shirt under her rancher’s vest, big pointy ears studded with jewels.

“My cattle are happy, relaxed, and productive, Miss Amani.” She stuck out a hand, which Amani reluctantly shook with her paw. “The males here give their bodies for a good cause: sustaining us as “humanely” as possible without the pesky things like freedom: men are better off without it.”

“I see.” The Anubis’ answer was terse.

“I know you disagree with my methods: but I am doing humanity a service as well, keeping wife-beaters, criminals, and abusers, as well as horny young boys who absolutely love the practice confined and productive for our sisters. Three are runaways from Lescatie, caught by our border guards and upon hearing the practice, surrendered themselves for a long, long time.”

“How did they know?” The Anubis rose her eyebrow, her Horus-tattooed eyes blinking sceptically.

“I have sisters and operatives who mention it to captives amongst threats and sweet promises, as well as the longevity due to proximity to demon energy. The success rate is six out of ten so far.”

“Humans…” The Anubis sighed, watching her own slave giggle, milking two young boys’ cocks with each hand and showering their butts with kisses. The dark elf “rancher” chuckled, her breasts jiggling.

“It’s human nature, to be owned and harvested by our glorious species like cattle. I provide a niche pleasure to humans and sustain our empire. It’s only natural…” She stretched her arms. “This is why I intend to industrialize the dairy farming practice to human and monster women as well. All are within acceptable limits, of course. Once I receive your positive review, I will make it so.” She simply declared. “We already have large breast milkers patented, which we intend to market to mamono women going through pregnancy to store milk in runic refrigeration units. Up until now, Holstauri and Minotaurus women in our lands were either locally milked on farms or personally taken care of it. Considering the Taurid milk’s healing properties in humans…”

Otep had a good mind to torpedo the review, but being a creature of Law, she couldn’t. The rancher kept what little ethics in slave handling existed.

The last part was an interview, and the most embarrassing part, slave stamping. She had to stamp the “cattle” bodies and the slaves on the premises with a health approval seal. It was dehumanizing, and worst of all, she secretly enjoyed it, because stamping, signing, and cataloging were part of Anubis’ hobbies.

“Let’s go to the slaves’ quarters…” She sighed, following the dark elf downstairs, the dark elf “rancher”‘s leather “cowgirl” pants cut to show her white thong and round, big black buttocks.

Eilie in the meantime, was on her knees, heels digging into her round, soft, pale ass, playing with another “cattle”, a naked man in his thirties put into wooden stocks, knees on soft pillows for comfort. A young dark elf with dark purple skin wearing a doctor’s white coat smiled and leaned to her ear to whisper.

“It’s fun, isn’t it?”

Eilie nodded, one hand massaging the man’s huge balls, the other gently squeezing and stroking his huge penis, which kept throbbing as it started to pump white gouts of rich sperm. Eilie could feel the man’s balls shrink, his body shuddering and going limp.

“I love playing with cocks, ma’am.” Eilie grinned. “But you don’t get to play much as a human slave: mamono have them all hogged. I just clean the house and attend to my owner’s business.”

“You can come and work here on your off days. I’ll throw in a silver per hour of your time, all the cocks you can play with.” The scientist smiled, her dark elfin ears wiggling. “Though we can also use a cleaner.”

“I’ll think about it.” Eilie nodded. “Can I ask a question?”

“Sure. Walk with me.” The dark elf touched the man’s balls, squeezed them, and took a note on her notepad before slapping Eilie’s ass to signal her to follow, who giggled and followed her like a dog.

“Why do the men here all have huge cocks and balls?”

“We treat them with alchemy. Since the cattle are company property, it’s allowed. Plus if they are ever set free, it is a parting gift to them to be virile, healthy, and hung like a bull. A lot of mamono are interested in buying them off our hands, even a few foreign human women. A madame in Zipangu wants well-hung blonde white boys, we already sold very happy five men to very eager buyers.”

“If?”

“Would you believe that some very horny youths surrendered themselves for life? Then there are some rapists and criminals who have a life sentence: we do not waste life here. They will pay back for what they took throughout their very long, restricted lives.”

Eilie and the dark-elven scientists passed by a series of naked, restrained asses, huge genitalia being vacuumed.

“These two boys haven’t been attended to.” The dark elf smiled. “Care to stroke them?”

Eilie didn’t need another word. Gently, she touched both men’s legs, who perked up in their bondage, their faces behind the hole in the wall. Their bodies tensed, so the dark elf started to stroke their buttocks, shushing them before nodding to Eilie.

“This is so fun…” Eilie giggled, stroking their cocks as if milking a cow, her soft hands feeling the taut, throbbing flesh of the shafts.

“See?” The dark elf chuckled. The men were groaning, whose cocks started to throb and shake, pumping semen faster into the thin hoses.

“These men are here for punishment.” The dark elf smiled. “There is a paddle on the wall if you want to strike their butts. The squeals and shaking from the other side of the wall indicated that the men heard her words. Quickly, the dark elf slapped each buttock with a loud smack of her gloved hand.

“Quiet, males! Your bodies are company property, and all women are legally entitled to play with them!” She hissed. “Or should I get my bullwhip? My favorite strap-on perhaps? Tobias?” The dark elf grinned, leaning to one opening in the wall. “I have a huge buttplug just for your twitching anus-”

All four bodies quieted down.

“Thought so.” The dark elf nodded. “When you are done, please leave any toys on the wall. The Succubus Dark Priestess will be here in an hour to bless their cocks. Please do not use your mouth, just your hands.”

“Sounds fun!” Eilie giggled, leaving the scientist to take notes and calculate the day’s slave medications in her office. She turned to the row of naked butts, restrained balls, and cocks dangling before her, watching the scene as if enjoying a show, as pumps and the cocks they were attached to twitched, milking the male slaves of their cum. Smiling, she started from the rightmost one, starting to stroke the thick, veiny, soft-skinned shaft, her left palm squeezing the thick, fertile balls as they contracted and relaxed, much like a heart.

She noticed the black-clad Araby girls laughing in a corner, as one started to strike a soft, young boy’s backside with a paddle, the other squeezing and milking his twitching cock.

“He likes it!” Eilie heard an exclamation under their veils in accented Common. “This is paradise!”

*-*-*-*

The downstairs slave quarters were warm, with walls lined with wool and textiles for warmth and quiet. The “rancher” Greba took out a set of keys, unlocking the barred door where the female slaves rested.

“Girls, up! The health inspector’s here!” She spoke in a soft, gentle voice. “Present!”

Amani’s jackal ears perked. Twenty, naked human girls and women in their twenties and thirties, with shackled feet and collars stopped playing cards, cuddling or reading books, standing up and lining up before the mistress and the new Anubis, hands behind their backs, legs spread, mouths open, tongues out.

“You can see our slaves, servants, and bondswomen are all healthy, well-cared for, and eating well. No illnesses, and no whipping scars beyond a few spankings or paddles for misconduct.”

Amani could see a few buttocks and pussies were pink from apparent paddling.

“As you can see, their teeth and tongues are perfectly healthy.” Greba smiled.

“Yes. Well, let’s get on with it.” Amani sighed, reaching for a seal with a wide grip for meaty Anubis paws.

“Girls,” Greba smiled. “Turn around for a quality stamp.”

The slave girls giggled, turning around and bending over, some wiggling their butts.

Amani rolled her eyes. Human youth and their sex drive. In dark elf captivity, it just multiplied. Super wealthy dark elven noble ladies even bred them in parties like dogs as a show; underground competitions for slave pedigree, physique, and sexual stamina was an unspoken secret.

Dipping the huge seal into a bag of red ink, Amani blushed, kneeling before the naked girls. Each had a perfectly shapely bottom, pussies depilated perfectly, fragrant, and glistening with moisture. Biting her lips, the Anubis started pressing the approval to each round slave buttock one by one.

“Done.” Amani fanned herself. “I’ll be back for the sleeping males once you rotate them.” Greba nodded. “Girls, you can get back to rest.”

“Thank you, mistress!” The human girls spoke in unison before going back to bed or playing cards.

“Time to stamp…the…men.” Amani was sweating.

“The best part.” Greba giggled. “Think of them as cattle. It goes easier that way.”

*-*-*-*

Passing by rows of twitching cocks tied to tubes, quivering balls pumping semen, Amani was blushing red, paw pressing the seal of health inspection on each toned male ass, restrained and balls constantly being drained of semen.

“Poor things…” She sighed to herself. “Most of them, at least.”

Greba was smiling from ear to ear. “I am extremely grateful for your integrity, inspector. You may find the practice unpleasant, but I do a service for all, and most are happy to be here. Besides, you will love the dairy farm I will start from now on. The “cattle”, being female, will be treated far better than men. I could show you the prototype.”

“I will most definitely not…” Amani threw her a dead-eyed stare. “But since you are insistent…”

*-*-*-*

“Well, that was less scary than I thought.” Amani crossed her arms, her golden staff on her back. The “sets” were plush, comfy chairs fitted with breast suction cups.

“Of course, what kind of villain do you think I am?” The dark elven “rancher” Greba was grinning. “Most of the milkers are for indentures and free, sans the restraints, they are designed to keep the body comfortable.”

“And that one?” Amani’s gaze became…interested, Greba noted with a grin. The demon energy was arousing the Anubis. It looked much like the male milking stocks, plus a lot of extra add-ons, even phallic plugs set in the nether areas of the potential victim.

“For less than free females.”

“I thought so.” Noted Amani dryly, her ears drooping.

“Inspector, I assure you, the device’s paddings and structure are designed for maximum comfort, securing the most rebellious minotaur girl for a long session of milking. Perhaps…” She whispered to the aroused, sweating Anubis’ ear. “You would like to try it?”

“What!” Amani hissed, her ears flattening in alarm.

“I know that you are planning for children and a milking chair sounds about just right for your home. But, since you are likewise concerned about Involuntary Indenture Standards, perhaps you could try the slave milking harness?” The dark elf raised her hands as she explained. “I have no motives other than you doing your duty.”

The Anubis’ eyes fluttered, the demon energy of the erotic machinery milking poor men had residual effects on her.

“If…” Amani gulped. “Only…for duty…”

“Whatever makes you feel sleep well at night-” Greba grinned, chuckling to herself. If she could get the Anubis to enjoy her milking station, no one could say no to her new project!

“What?” The Anubis blinked, woozy.

“Nothing! Let me help you, miss inspector. You’ll see the frame capable of handling and restraining a body without pain… But you can’t ride it with your clothes and staff…”

The dark elf slowly took the musk-drunk Anubis’ staff and put it in a corner, gently taking off her shendyt, and sliding her hands behind her back to take off her Kemet black silk chest wraps…

“What…are…you…doing?” Amani shook her head.

“Miss inspector, obviously you can’t use this device with your breasts covered, the victim must be naked…Rules…”

“Rules…” Amani mumbled, weakly resisting as her body was being stripped naked by the grinning, enthusiastic dark elf that drew her like a fly to a web. Greba loved what she saw. The Anubis had a petite, yet dense body, dark brown skin gracing a curvy frame, an hourglass figure with jackal fur and paws at the end of each limb, muscles on limbs particularly thick and prominent, and a belly that had grown a bit fat. The best was her massive breasts, no doubt the Anubis was buying expensive Goblin alchemy to prepare for motherhood. Greba pinched and squeezed the Anubis’ bubble butt and belly, Amani moaning and eyes rolling as her limbs were fastened to the slave milking stall, padded slave cuffs gently squeezing her ankles and wrists.

“I’m doing this…for…duty…”

Greba nodded, biting her lips not to laugh.

Amani was naked, her fat tits dangling under her like a cow in a milking stall, on all fours like a beast. Her jackal feet and hands were securely tied, and her body was supported by a pink, long pillow fixed to a long, polished, wooden plank riveted between the steel yokes restraining her, allowing her to lie face down with her entire body resting on the soft pillow with both breasts dangling from the plank’s sides.

“Of course, Miss Inspector…” Greba then softly squeezed a fat brown breast, attaching a milking cup to the brown, stiff nipple.

“You don’t…need to milk… the cup…just the restraints…” Amani was trying to fend off grubby dark elven hands, moaning as she was being caressed. The Anubis gave up struggling, and gave in to the flood of pleasure, feeling her breasts being sucked by a mechanical pair of cups.

“See, Inspector? It’s painless and harmless!”

“Mm…” Amani relaxed, enjoying the bondage and milking, her senses of scent overwhelmed by aphrodisiac fumes and demon energy. Unknown to her, Greba had burned dark elven incense sticks to fumigate the storage room. The side effects were, dark elves being dark elves, obvious ones.

Greba turned on a dial, and with a whirr and buzz, the Anubis’ fat brown breasts started to periodically jiggle as the machinery started to suck each nipple. Crossing her arms with a grin, Greba enjoyed the humiliating pose Amani was stuck in, and her eyes grew when the Anubis’ soft brown nipples started to engorge, and to her surprise, small white droplets of milk started to dribble.

The Anubis was entirely restrained, being forcibly milked. There was no pleasure, but a flood of bliss and joy, breasts feeling pleasure.

*-*-*-*

A few hours later:

A very angry Anubis stomped out of the prototype room and tossed the approval papers to the grinning dark elf Greba, who shook the FURIOUS Anubis woman’s paw with gusto. “Thanks for the approval, Miss Inspector!”

“Anything that happened gets leaked, you are dead…” Amani growled, still upset, yet incredibly aroused. “You hear me? Dead…”

“Hand over my heart.” The dark elf drew her fingers over her chest. “So long as we get the approval!”

She found Amani waiting at the exit, being ogled by human visitors, ignoring that they kept staring at her naked body in public. With a weary paw, she waved her to follow.

“My arms are exhausted,” Amani sighed. “Let’s go home and eat.” They weren’t the only thing exhausted, Eilie noted. but that would be a story for another time.

“Mine too!”

“Right, Eilie…” Amani smirked. “Hope you enjoyed yourself at least.”

“Very much!” Eilie handed her leash to Amani, who tugged it wearily, leading her like a dog, nude in public. She stuck out her tongue to a human adventurer who watched her with wide eyes, wiggling her butt.

Greba, turning around on her high heels, high-fived her succubus co-owner, the scholarly she-demon blinking in surprise at her reaction.

“We got the approval!” Greba squealed. “Get the goblins to make more milking stations, gift inspector Amani a deluxe milking set for young mothers. Time to branch into the dairy world as well!” She wondered how Anubis milk would taste like; her kids would love that!

“Goddess’ peace be with you.”

A voice made her turn, Greba nodding and curtsying before the succubus wearing a lewd habit.

“Dark Priestess Nanki, welcome.” Greba greeted the pale-skinned religious succubus, wearing a perverted corruption of a Lescatian nun. Her melon-sized breasts were barely kept in check by her low-cut habit, its back cut so high her ass was bare as she walked, sporting a gilded spade tail and a specially cut thong snugly buried between plump asscheeks. Her feet were human like many succubi of later generations, and her eyes were jet black, just like her bob-cut hair.

The Dark Priestess were a subspecies of succubi, a type of monster-woman particularly associated with the worship of sex, love, motherhood, and pleasures. Disciplined in their own way, they were quite social and communal, driven by a need to spread love and mercy to other species. Their main duty in the dark elven city was to soothe slaves and make them come to terms with their captivity, healing work injuries and refreshing their stamina, healing their pains.

“I have come to tend to the lambs of the Goddess’ souls, dear lady,” Nanki spoke in a beautiful, sing-song voice.

“This way.” Greba waved her inside.

The succubus smiled as she entered the “cattle farm”, taking in the scene of cock-milking with closed eyes and deep breaths.

“Goddess’ peace on you, dear humans.”

White-aproned human women in hygiene masks knelt behind naked men, gloved hands periodically washing, oiling, and stroking the reddened cocks and engorged balls with visible veins as succubus and dark elf scientist women oversaw them, taking notes with grins on their faces.

The men would be rotated, carried to their cells once exhausted, and fresh boys would be dragged into the stocks, under whip and chain, to have their cocks milked again and again…

The “farm workers”, human servant women bowed their heads, earning a gentle caress of the index and middle finger in benediction on their foreheads. The dark succubus nun stood before a “cattle”, touching the forehead of the white, blonde boy suspended naked by his bare feet and wrists tied behind his back, blindfolded and gagged like a prized deer.

Ignoring his whimpers and moans, his penis pumping seed with throes of orgasm after orgasm, Nanki intoned softly rubbing his forehead with sacred oils, her other hand caressing his ass:

“Lamb of the goddess, your sacrifice here is a great service to the daughters of Lilith.”

She cooed happily when the blindfolded poor slave boy leaned his head to her caressing. Blessing the boy’s tortured, swollen, perpetually pumping balls with a prayer and a kiss on his ballsack, she went on, blessing and healing the strained male cattle, easing their pains and enhancing their pleasure.

“Poor things. May their sacrifices be treasured…” Nanki waved her hand over rows of naked butts, genitalia being sucked dry.

“Amen.”

Behind them the doors closed, and moans of pleasure were mixed with the humming of machinery, dozens of men stuck like cows in a pen groaned and shook with eternal pleasure, their cocks and balls the dark elf’s property, to be harvested and tortured as long as she wanted. She didn’t need their words or faces. Just what the men were good for, to be used as living sperm pumps for her glorious race until some interested mistress would buy them to be their personal sperm pump.