Scat! Worshipping at Temple Uranus

by Steven Seven

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Ma/ft, Fa/Fa, ft/ft, Fa/ft, Mind Control, Slavery, BiSexual, Heterosexual, Fiction, MaleDom, Humiliation, Lactation, Oral Sex, Scatology, Water Sports, Big Breasts, Small Breasts, .

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: CAUTION: Extreme Male Dominance and lots of shit play! The Master owns a hidden personal paradise planet where he lives with his harem. Shit is non-toxic there. No one gets sick. See the scatological worship practices Master's slaves perform at Temple Uranus. The story is from Ch 12 of my serial "Welcome to My World". Previous stories "Watch Me Sodomize Your Daughters, Bitch" combined Ch 1-2 from this serial, while "Teen Sex Slave Training: The Beginners School" combined Ch 8, 10, and 11.

PREFACE

CAUTION!

This is a story of extreme Male Dominance and utter female submission. The sex is down and dirty. It is told from the male perspective.

Reader reaction to my previous erotic fiction would suggest that only a minority of readers will enjoy this type of story. Consider yourself forewarned.

Many women and men have rape fantasies. The reality of rape is much different from the fantasy. The author does not condone rape.

This story is taken from my serial / book “WELCOME TO MY WORLD”. I previously released the story “Watch Me Sodomize Your Daughters, Bitch” which was a combination of Chapters 1 and 2 from the same serial / book. My story “Teen Sex Slave Training: The Beginners School” is a combination of Chapter 8 and Chapter 10. I am presenting it as a standalone story for your enjoyment.

Here is the basic background of MY WORLD:

“A man has futuristic, hyper-tech powers, including the ability to read minds and to exert absolute mind control over others. He possesses a hidden planet in another dimension that has been customized into his personal paradise. He is Master of everything and everyone there. The Master populates his World with two types of female sex slaves. The first type is ordinary women from earth. The second type is genetically engineered women he creates himself. From earth, the Master kidnaps and enslaves large numbers of beautiful women and teenaged girls. He brainwashes and reprograms them into ideal sex slaves who perfectly match his personal desires. He makes them want what he wants them to want. The women he synthesizes himself using genetic engineering and biotechnology are pre-programmed from the start to the Master’s exacting specifications. This is a story from that place, the Master’s World.”


I slept comfortably all night long in the Great Room on the huge bed, 50 feet wide by 20 feet long, located against the far wall of the space. I had sodomized all of my 14-year-old slave girls at last night’s orgy before retiring for the night. I had enjoyed using their beautiful young asses. I finished up the night by ejaculating into Sharon’s mouth in a vigorous ass-to-mouth blowjob. Her mother Barbara and sister Helen slept next to my legs and feet, snuggling and kissing them. I rested my head on Hope’s pure white buttocks as my pillow. My big-titted mother-daughter duo, Catherine and Roxanne, slept on either side of me, keeping their 50-inch-plus, lactating breasts where I could easily suck them. When morning came, Sharon still lay at next to my right hip. Several times during the night I had allowed her and each of the other women and girls to suck me briefly. All of my slut-whore slaves loved to suck my dick.

Several smaller beds, roughly three times the size of a king size bed, had been arranged in an arc facing to my big bed at the end of the room. Sleeping together in these beds, cuddling and sometimes licking one another, were my 45 slaves at the orgy who were not in bed with me. It was a charming gathering of my entire Upper Village harem.

The ceiling shutters were closed, preventing the morning sunlight from sneaking through the ceiling-wide skylight. The evening before, I had commanded the shutters into place, since I did not want to be awoken by the sunrise. The only light in the room came from several small, softly glowing nightlights to indicate the path toward the two bathrooms. One bathroom was connected directly to the Great Room. The other, larger bathroom was accessed through either the foyer or through a more indirect passage in one of the smaller side rooms that branched from the Great Room.

I had left orders for the automated cooking machines and robot delivery systems to set up a breakfast buffet in the foyer at sunrise. This was done with minimal noise, allowing the sleepy-heads in the Great Room to cuddle, and kiss, and suck, and fuck a little while longer.

I am the Master, Owner, and Lord of My World, including everyone and everything in it. My powers are not fully understood by the women and teenaged girls I own. They know I read their minds, and can control their bodies, thoughts, and emotions as easily as I can lift a finger. More easily, in fact. In the beginning of their life in my harem, every bitch is acutely aware of the fact that I am with her, inside her, all of the time. After a while, they grow so used to this that they often forget about it. But I don’t. I am the Master, Owner, and Lord of artificially intelligent technological systems that are extensions of myself. Even while my body sleeps and my mind rests, these systems slave away tirelessly, day and night, monitoring my slave women and teen girls, ensuring that all is well with them. This is really no different from how these systems also monitor the entire planet, including its natural and artificial systems, assuring that all is well.

These artificial extensions of myself were active as I lay in bed this morning. I allowed my body to rest in sleep while I projected my mind through my artificial extensions. I honed in on Barbara, the woman I had kidnapped, raped, and enslaved along with her two daughters some 36 hours ago, and then slave-married in a hasty ceremony last evening, just before the orgy began.

I listened to Barbara’s mind. I felt her feelings. My awareness sat just behind her eyes as she opened them when she smelled the delicious aroma of coffee wafting in from the breakfast buffet in the foyer. She sat up, looked around at me and the other slaves I had sleeping around me, and smiled like she had won the lottery. Every one of my slaves felt that way.

Barbara turned her blonde head to gaze around the room. Women and teens were stirring from the beds, one by one making their way to one of the bathrooms or straight for coffee. She scooted to the edge of the bed, then bent forward to place her feet on the floor. Her 40-inch DD-cup tits swung forward as Barbara moved to stand up. She began softly padding across the thick pearl grey carpet that covered the floor, winding her way around the beds occupied by the other bitches, some of whom were also beginning to stir and move around. Every time she caught a bitch’s eye, the slave smiled at her. Many greeted her with “Good morning” or “Welcome to the harem.” Barbara replied with a smile and as few words as she could manage. She had intended to go first to the bathroom she had used yesterday, but then saw several slaves wearing towels, heads wrapped over wet hair, emerging from a small hallway on the other side of the Great Room. She decided to try that bathroom instead. It is the one she had glimpsed yesterday.

Barbara walked through a doorway that had been covered previously by one of the floor-to-ceiling photo panels. This one depicted me sitting in chair with several women and teenaged girls kneeling in front of me as my erect penis shot an arc of urine into the air and the surrounding bitches lean forward to catch it in their mouths. The doorway connected to a long, somewhat narrow dressing room with mirrors along the both walls to the right and left. Many small couches, chairs, tables, and cabinets lined the room. At the far end, the room connected to the foyer bathroom. Several women sat in the room wearing towels and bathrobes, clearly having just emerged from the shower. Everyone greeted Barbara warmly and she returned their greetings.

Barbara entered the foyer bathroom. It was much larger than the other one she had used, which only had 4 toilets with bidets, some showers, and so forth. This bathroom had 16 toilets with bidets, sinks, 4 long dressing tables with mirrors and seats, 4 large showers that would each accommodate at least 8 people. Almost in the middle of the large bathroom was a floor-to-ceiling glass-sided atrium filled with flowers, green plants, and decorative rocks. At its top, the atrium was open to the sky. Two of the glass sides of the atrium had been lowered into the floor, so that the bathroom had its own fragrant flower garden.

The bathroom was bustling. The toilets with their bidets were arranged in one corner of the room, with 6 against the back wall and two rows of 5 toilets facing one another on opposite walls. All but one was occupied. Barbara recognized some of the bitches from the tour of the Upper Village yesterday. A few were young cunts from the Beginners School. Every one of them smiled at her and welcomed her. The unoccupied toilet was in the middle a row of 5. The women and girls on either side of it invited her politely to come and sit between them. Everyone was completely naked.

Barbara sat down. She felt a little bit self-conscious. She recalled meeting the woman to her left, an extremely buxom gold blonde, but did not know if she had met the equally buxom redhead to her right. They both had enormous breasts. The woman to her left reached out and took her hand.

“Hello, Barbara” she said. “We met yesterday at the Beginners School. My name is Bea Titley.” She pointed to the redhead sitting on the toilet to Barbara’s right. “This is my sister Rhea Titley. We are sororal twins. Different hair color. Same 58-inch, HH-cup breasts.”

“Yes, I remember you” said Barbara. “Nice to see you again. My daughters are also sororal twins.”

Barbara felt a hand on her right thigh. She turned see Rhea Titley’s blue eyes and smiling face. “Sweetheart, we haven’t met, but I want to tell you that every bitch is happy to have you here. This is not like some harem you may have read about in the history books. There is no competing between slaves here. We are all in love with the Master and we all know he loves us equally. He really does. We help one another. We really do.”

Bea, still holding Barbara’s left hand, said “It’s the truth. Master controls us all and he doesn’t want us to fight. You’ve seen how we all get off when he gets off. The only way to be happy is to make him happy. And when he’s happy, we’re all happy.”

Barbara felt like an enormous weight had been taken off her shoulders. All she could say was “Thank you.” Then, feeling relaxed, she finally began to urinate into the toilet. When she was done, she reached for the roll of toilet paper on a golden stand nearby.

Rhea put her hand on top of Barbara’s. “There’s no need for that, sweetie” she said as she moved off her toilet and got down in front of Barbara. Her sister Bea did the same. As the two women moved, their enormous breasts swung from side to side.

“Scoot forward, honey” said Bea. “My sister and I will lick your cunt hair clean. It’s a gesture of goodwill. Don’t feel like you need to do the same for us.”

Barbara moved forward and spread her legs. Gold blonde Bea and redhead Rhea took turns licking her. Barbara smiled. She looked up at the other women and teens sitting on the other toilets. As she caught the eye of one, then another, each smiled at her and spoke warm words of welcome. “I’ll lick you clean next” time said a striking redhead. “I’m here if you ever want me” said a gorgeous platinum blonde. On and on, the dozen women on the other toilets all did the best to make her feel comfortable, feel at home, in the slave sisterhood of Master’s harem.

Rhea smacked her lips. “Delicious cunt and urine” she said. “You’re all clean now, whore.” The two sisters stood up, leaned forward, and began to kiss Barbara on the lips.

“Taste your urine on our mouths, whore” said Bea. “Isn’t it lovely to be this dirty and never have to worry about getting sick? Master does every dirty, unsanitary thing to us, and makes us to it to one another, and it has no effect on our health. Zero.”

Barbara nodded her head. “You saw me eating all that shit off his dick last night, didn’t you? If you’d told me two days ago that I’d ever do any such thing, I would have said you were crazy. Now it seems so natural. Fun, even. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I crave being made to do dirty things like that for the Master. I want him to treat me like the lowest whore on earth.”

“Amen, sister” said several women in the group.

Barbara stood up from the toilet. She kissed Bea then Rhea again, making a point to get her tongue into each woman’s mouth, before saying to both “Thank you for licking me clean and for tonguing my cunt. I hope you enjoyed my kiss. It had the taste of all the assholes that Master butt-fucked and made me taste from his dick.”

The sisters responded with warmth and smiles. “We did! It was lovely to share that taste with you” Rhea said. They each took one of Barbara’s hands, and began to walk together as a trio towards the showers.

“Uhh, no thanks. I don’t want to take a shower yet. I want to rinse my mouth and get something to eat. And I need some coffee” said Barbara.

“OK” said Bea. “We’ll catch up with you later.”

Barbara said “Yes, definitely” then moved to a sink and washed her hands and face. She found a brand new toothbrush and some teeth cleaner. Much as she appreciated having her mouth used by the Master to clean his shit-smeared dick, Barbara still wanted to be able to taste her breakfast without the aftertaste of shit.

At a dressing table she brushed her hair, then walked toward the bathroom exit. Suddenly, a young woman stopped her. “Barbara” she said “I loved watching your cocksucking performance last night. That was some lovely ass-to-mouth action” the golden blonde said. “May I offer you a robe and some sturdy indoor/outdoor slippers?” she asked, holding out a translucent white robe and a pair of white shoes.

“Yes, thanks” said Barbara. The young woman helped Barbara dress. The robe and shoes fit perfectly. Barbara then proceeded to the foyer, where she saw two large serving tables in the middle of the room. A soft breeze blew into the room through the neoclassical windows, their tall rectangular frames divided into several glass panes topped with a half-circle of pie-slice glass panes. The windows were decidedly untraditional. These had several large window panes that slid away, and in their place were slide-in window screens. The screens admitted the gentle sounds of splashing water from the great fountain on the big lawn, as well as the cool, fresh, fragrant morning air, redolent of dewy grass and flowers. These lovely sounds and natural odors wafted into the room, combining with the mouth-watering smells coming from the food tables.

Barbara glanced out these windows as she walked through the foyer. She saw several women enjoying their breakfast at tables under the white wooden gazebos that lined the edge of the plaza where the large fountain was centered. The gazebos were open on three sides. Sounds of flowing water emerged from the magnificent fountain with classical statuary. Water spouts and mini-waterfalls emerged from the rocky foundation upon which the statue forms that cavorted. Morning sunlight sparkled off the water spray of the fountain, like diamonds in mist, with an occasional mini-rainbow flickering here and there.

In the foyer itself, white linen covered tables were laden with breakfast foods: fresh chocolate croissants, muffins of several types, oatmeal, fruit salad, eggs, bacon, fresh bread, jam, butter, yogurt, juices, coffee, and tea. Women and girls dressed identically in the same type of robe and shoes that Barbara wore were helping themselves to plates of food and mugs of drink, then sitting down at tables, or on couches, or overstuffed chairs, or walking out the front doorway to join the cunts in the fountain plaza. Barbara filled her plate with food and filled a mug with coffee from a tall coffee urn. Undecided where to sit, she gazed around the room.

As more and more bitches arrived, the room filled with chatter and laughter. Barbara sensed the truth of what the Titley sisters and other bitches had been telling her: the women in Master’s harem really did enjoy one another’s company. She never heard a cross word or a cutting remark. She could almost inhale the love that surrounded her.

“Barbara, so good to see you up and about. Your mouth took quite a beating last night” said a familiar voice. Liv and Kathy had walked up unseen.

Barbara felt like she’d just encountered her oldest, dearest friends, even though she’d only met platinum blonde Liv and redhead Kathy yesterday, when she had watched the videos of their kidnapping and rape by the Master, and had the heart-to-heart talk with them at the pond. Barbara quickly found a place to put down her plate of food and mug of coffee. She embraced both women at once. “It’s so good to see you two bitches” she said with girlish enthusiasm.

Kathy and Liv hugged their sister-slave and kissed her face. Barbara kissed each of them on the cheek.

“What’s this?” said Liv teasingly. “You’re not going to share the tongue that licked all that shit off Master’s dick last night?”

Barbara laughed. “I brushed my teeth. Does it still count?”

“Of course it does! Kiss us, whore” said Kathy.

Barbara gave Kathy and Liv each a passionate French kiss.

“That’s better, whore” said Kathy.

“Share and share alike all the good stuff our Owner gives us” said Liv.

Liv took Barbara’s hand. “Grab your plate and cup” she said. “I know a good side room we can all go sit in.” The threesome took their plates and walked back into the Great Room, then made a right turn towards a photo panel on the wall that had already slid aside to reveal a side room. The photo panel showed the Master sucking the enormous tits of two naked women at the same time. Inside the room, running in two lines down the center of the room, were 20 recliner chairs arranged in two facing rows of 10 each. Behind the chairs and up against the walls were several couches with side tables. Behind and above each recliner was some sort of apparatus with clear tubes and white cubes of machinery, gently humming. Sitting in each of the 20 recliners was a naked woman. The tubes were connected to suction cups on her breasts. Barbara recognized that these were milking machines. This room was a human Milking Parlor, like something on a dairy farm for lactating human slaves. These beautiful, large-breasted, women were heavy with milk. They sat contentedly while getting their breasts pumped. Master’s machines were harvesting milk from his herd of tit cows. The Master’s human cows chatted amiably with one another and ate from their plates of food while the Master’s machines extracted his food from their udders.

The couches along the walls were mostly unoccupied. As Barbara, Kathy, and Liv moved toward them, the women being milked greeted them. Christine was among them. “Come sit on the couch near me” she said. “This won’t take much longer. I don’t have much milk left in this lactation cycle. My daughter is ramping up her milk production. Mine is ramping down.”

As Kathy passed near her, platinum blonde Christine quickly grabbed a muffin off the redhead’s plate. “Hey!” said Kathy in mock outrage, slapping lightly at the woman with the gigantic udders. “Watch your manners, whore!”

“I’m a hungry whore” said Christine. “I already ate a couple of muffins, but I’m still hungry. Master sucked me dry last night. Now he’s asleep and my udders have recharged. I had to come in here and get pumped.”

Kathy, Liv, and Barbara sat on a couch together near Christine. Barbara noticed that one side of the white cube of milking machinery had a viewing window. She glanced inside to see a graduated glass container gradually filling with milk. She moved closer to get a better look. Christine watched her. “You could be sitting here someday, whore” she said kindly.

Barbara looked slightly embarrassed. “I’d love to, but I think I may be too old. I’m 38. Probably the oldest cunt here.”

Christine shook her head. “You may be the oldest cunt, but never underestimate what the Master can do. Do you think every big-breasted bitch in this harem always had big knockers? Master can make breasts grow to any size he pleases. He can induce lactation just as easily. If he wants your knockers to give milk, then by gosh he will make them produce like a herd of cows.”

Barbara licked her lips. “I’d love to suckle Master at my tits. I want to squirt milk on him while I suck his dick. That would be so hot!”

“It is hot” Christine said. “When Master sucks my tits, he gives me the most amazing orgasms.”

Barbara hesitated for a moment. She had ambivalent feelings about Christine. When Barbara met Liv and Kathy yesterday, they quickly bonded when they shared such a deep girl talk around the pond and then watched the women’s rape videos. But at dinner last night, when Christine revealed that she was a synthetic life-form created by the Master, Barbara practically freaked out.

Barbara sat down between Kathy and Liv. “Girls, I need to ask you a question. Please don’t laugh. I know you love the Master, and I love the Master, and every cunt in his harem loves the Master. He loves us equally, every bitch tells me. But, but ... I’m almost afraid to say this. Don’t laugh.”

Kathy and Liv each touched Barbara, holding her hands. “It’s ok, Barbara” said Liv. “We won’t laugh.”

“Go ahead” said Kathy.

Barbara noticed Christine staring at her intensely. It was not a cold stare, but a curious one. Compassionate, perhaps. Barbara couldn’t be sure. Her fear of the woman-creature clouded her judgment.

“Well” said Barbara “I was wondering if ever ... if the Master ... if one of his slaves ever ... umm, you know, disappointed him? Failed him so bad that he sent her away.”

Liv, Kathy, and Christine looked at one another. The other women in the room who had been listening in to Barbara were suddenly silent.

“Barbara” said Kathy in a gentle voice, leaning so close to her that her red hair touched Barbara’s golden blonde hair. “This is a very sensitive subject. It is taught with the greatest care to the girls in the Beginners School. You were going to learn it too, but not so soon.”

Liv leaned her platinum blonde head close to Barbara from the other side. “Dearie, it has only happened once. It should never, ever happen again. It was not the Master’s doing. It was her fault.”

“Entirely her fault!” said Christine, clearly impatient. “Barbara, when the Master kidnaps and rapes a bitch, it’s because he intends to enslave her and keep her in his harem forever. He doesn’t just pick up any cunt off the street. When he makes synthetic sluts like me, he acts with supreme precision. No mistakes ever leave the assembly line, so to speak. The bitch who screwed up was an ungrateful wretch who gave up heaven for hell.”

Upon hearing this, Barbara became upset. “What happened? Who was it?”

“You will know of her by her earth name. We know her here as Fallen Rose” said Christine.

Liv said “She was a famous actress. Her name was Rose O’Day.”

Barbara drew a sharp intake of breath. “I know about her! She’s extremely famous. All the guys love her.”

Kathy picked up the story. “The Master did with her what he did with you. He made a clone with her memories and let the clone live her life while he brought her here. She was here for 4 years. The Master kept close control on her clone, making better decisions for her than Rose ever made in her life. He made her clone into a better actress. He made the clone wiser in picking her male partners, and her movie roles. Her clone won the Academy Award.”

Liv continued. “While she was here, Master re-programmed her, brainwashed her, just like he does with every bitch he kidnaps. You know that, don’t you?”

Barbara nodded her head slightly. “Yeah, I could feel him doing that. I tried to resist. But he was too strong. And he was right. He washed my brain clean of a whole lot of nonsense. I was making myself unhappy with that shit for no reason. Master made me see the light. I am happier now than I’ve ever been in my life. But I’m also afraid. Afraid I’ll do something or say something that disappoints him so badly that he’ll send me away. Back to that hell on earth.”

Christine spoke up this time. “Rose O’Day was so full of herself. Master did his best to brainwash her and then let her be a good slave of her own free will. But she was too proud. She kept acting selfishly. He had to re-program her again and again. Finally he gave her an ultimatum: become an automaton, or go back to earth.”

“What do you mean, an automaton?” Barbara asked.

Liv said “It’s not like a synthetic slut-slave. Christine is not an automaton. She is an artificial life form. She obeys Master and serves him of her own free will.”

“An automaton” said Kathy “is a female that has been turned into a meat robot without any free will. She can follow orders, but she isn’t very good at taking action on her own. Master had to puppet her most of the time. You know, like he puppetted you and your daughters the night he kidnapped you. He made you say and do anything he wanted. Master can do that to us any time. But he prefers to make us love him on our own. So he brainwashes us and re-programs us, and then we can function normally. We want whatever he wants us to want. It feels completely natural. Everything we want to do is exactly what he wants us to do. Pretty much, anyway.”

Christine piped up. “Pretty much. But not all the time. It takes time for a bitch to learn her place in Master’s harem. Being a slave takes education and practice. That’s why Master created the Beginners School.”

“Say” said Liv “speaking of the Beginners School, why don’t we get Felicity to explain all this to Barbara?”

Kathy and Christine agreed that this was a good idea. Liv touched a small panel on the end table next to the couch. “Felicity” she said “please come to the Milking Parlor. It’s urgent. Barbara needs to understand something.”

“On my way” said Felicity.

In less than a minute, the 24-year-old, slender platinum blonde walked into the room. She sat down in a chair near the couch, and the other women explained Barbara’s question. Felicity listened intently, nodding her head several times during their explanation. Then she turned to face Barbara. Taking her hand, Felicity said “Barbara, you know we all love you. All slaves are sisters. We worship the same Master. Serving him is our reason for being. Do you understand that? Does it make sense to you?”

“Yes” Barbara said. “I understand it. It makes sense. But I’m afraid of failing. I don’t want to be another Fallen Rose.”

Felicity squeezed her hand. “I’m sure you don’t, honey. None of us do.” She let go of Barbara’s hand and sat back, crossing one arm, then touching her chin with the other hand. “Have you ever heard the old earth myth about the essence of romance stories?”

“What do you mean?” asked Barbara.

“They say – and they are wrong about this, but this is what they say on old earth – that the basic romance story follows three stages. One: Boy meets girl. Two: Boy loses girl. Three: Boy gets girl.”

“Oh, yeah, I’ve heard that” said Barbara.

“Well, that’s all bullshit” said Felicity with some fire in her voice. “That’s not the way it works here. Here in Master’s world. The real world, where things are the way they should be. There are more stages than that. Different stages. And they can occur in a different order. But basically, though, here is the true romance in stages: One: Boy gets girl. Two: Girl loses boy. Three: Girl begs boy. Four: Boy abuses girl. Five: Girl thanks boy. Six: Boy enslaves girl. Seven: Girl worships boy.”

Barbara liked the sound of that. She didn’t know why. Of course, as her Master, I know exactly why: when I brought her into My World, I programmed those stages into her from top to bottom. Her brain circuits. Her hormones. Her DNA. So Barbara felt the naturalness of those seven stages of female submission to male domination as if they had evolved over a million years. Every one of my slaves was programmed that way. The brainwashing I did was merely to wash away the superficial patterns the bitch had accumulated during her life on old earth. The stages of male domination and female submission were the behavioral bedrock of every cunt in My World.

Barbara asked “Didn’t Rose O’Day feel how natural that is? It feels perfectly natural to me.”

“She felt it, yes” said Felicity “but she did not allow her brainwashing to go as far as it should have. She held so tightly to her big ego, her famous actress ego, that she refused to let the Master wash away the very things that would make her unhappy in the end.”

“But wait. Aren’t brainwashing and re-programming the same thing?” asked Barbara.

Felicity shook her head from side to side. “No, they’re not. That’s a very common misconception. Think of it like this. Your brain is like a blackboard covered with writing and diagrams. Brainwashing erases some of those things. Re-programming writes new things in their place.”

“That makes sense” said Barbara. “I’m frankly surprised that I’m so cool with this idea that I have been brainwashed and re-programmed. It doesn’t upset me at all. I really like it, in fact. Like I said, I’m happier than I ever was before in my life.”

“Of course you are” said Felicity with a grin. “We all are. Who could be unhappy in heaven?”

“Fallen Rose was” said Christine. “‘How you are fallen from heaven, O Day Star’ as it says in the Old Testament book of Isaiah.”

“What was that thing you say earlier Christine, about Rose O’Day refusing to become robot?” Barbara said.

“An automaton” Christine corrected her. “Master was good enough to brainwash her and re-program her, but Rose resisted a full brainwash and a healthy re-programming. She was too proud and selfish. Master gave up trying to help her. He told her she could either become an automaton or go back to earth.”

“Isn’t an automation sort of like a meat-robot?” asked Barbara.

“That’s close” said Felicity. “The point is, automatons are just not as much fun for the Master. They’re not any fun at all for the rest of the slaves in the harem. They are stupid. You can’t hold a conversation with them beyond the level of an idiot child. Yes, they can suck dick and fuck and do all the basics, but not very well. They lack flair, passion, humor, and love. An automaton can fuck, but not love.”

“Why would Master want to keep her as an automaton then?” asked Barbara.

“Compassion” answered Felicity. “Did you follow Rose O’Day’s career after she won that Academy Award? Her clone won the Award. Rose went back immediately afterward. She thought she could bask in the glory and accomplishments of the clone that Master had puppetted. Master put the passion and love into that clone. He made it wonderful. Rose ruined it. Did you follow her career?”

Barbara frowned. “Yes. Her next movie was a bomb. She went through a bunch a bad relationships with some bums she should never have had anything to do with. She drank and took drugs. Crashed her car, I think. Got into fights with the movie makers. She ended up in a mental hospital. And ... and...”

“Yes? And what?” asked Felicity, who knew the rest of the story.

“She ranted to the hospital staff that she was a fallen star, who fell from heaven” said Barbara slowly, as she hugged herself with both arms and shivered.

“That’s right” said Felicity. “None of us want to be like Fallen Rose.”

A bell sounded. Then another and another. The women all looked up, alert. A woman entered the Milking Parlor, holding a silver bell on a chain and striking it with a small mallet. The bell was about the size of a large grapefruit. It was shape like a breast. At the top of the silver breast bell, a broad golden nipple was pierced by a gold chain. The woman struck the bell again, then spoke. “Behold! The Master will offer his bowel movement at Uranus Temple. Come, come!”

Christine and the other lactating cunts were already removing their breast pump suction cups and putting on the translucent robes and white shoes.

Barbara asked “Does Master always go to this temple when he has a bowel movement?”

“No” answered Christine as she closed her robe over her massive tits. “Master only uses Temple Uranus on special occasions. He will tell us why when we get there.”

“Follow us” said Liv. “Just do what everyone else does. This is a sacred event.”

As the bitches walked out of the room, they joined the other women and teenaged girls who were streaming into the Great Room and out through a side door that led to the garden behind the mansion. Morning birds sang in the fresh, slightly cool air, which was perfumed by blooming flowers. Yesterday Master had taken Barbara and a small party of bitches walking through the garden to the pond. This time they took a different turn in the garden. They walked up a shaded path under the tall trees. The forest was light mottled by shadows, since the sun had not yet risen high enough to dispel them. After a short walk, the line of women and teenaged girls entered a large clearing.

The entrance to the clearing opened out, as the path widened to some 20 feet. It was framed by a large stone arch that was taller than it was wide. A large, black rectangular panel extended from one pillar of the arch to the other. The words Temple Uranus were engraved on it in gold. Above that title was the painted image of the grey-bearded, fair-skinned Greek god Uranus.

Inside the clearing, a semi-circular structure made of stone blocks was set into the hillside on the far side of the area. It was a classical Greco-Roman-style amphitheater. Rows of tiered seating rose step-wise from the paved floor of the clearing up to the highest part of the amphitheater against the hillside, flanked by stone staircases on either end. Perched atop of the structure, visible to all, was a larger-than-life statue of the god Uranus, the embodiment of the heavens. Bearded, mighty, and swathed in flowing robes, he commanded the scene below.

On the ground of the clearing was a paved floor set with stones of the same type used for the amphitheater seating. In the middle of the paved area was a circular stone structure. It was not a simple stage, but rather a raised structure some 4 feet in height with stone stairs leading to its grassy top. The stairs were on the far side of the circular structure, where it faced the amphitheater seating. The top of the structure was girded with a wooden railing of vertical posts connected by horizontal bars, top and bottom. In between these were X-shaped braces that met the horizontal bars where they connected to the posts. A special wooden chair stood in the middle of the grassy top. The sides of the cylindrical structure were decorated with a pair of bas-reliefs that repeated around the circumference of the structure.

The first bas-relief depicted a woman adorned in ancient Greco-Roman attire. She wore a simple but elegant form of Greek dress called a peplos. However, unlike the women of ancient Greece, her peplos had been pulled down at the top to expose her abundant breasts, which hung down provocatively. She was not actually Greek, though. She was the Etruscan-Roman goddess Cloacina, who knelt open-mouthed, with arms forearms parallel to the ground, hands open in supplication, before the Greek god Uranus, who stood before her with the front of his garment open to reveal his penis. Uranus, god of the heavens, gave ear to the humble pleas of Cloacina, goddess of the sewers. She begged him to use her for her holy given purpose. He urinated in her mouth. She drank his urine.

The second bas-relief of the pair depicted both Uranus and Cloacina stark naked. Uranus, back turned toward Cloacina, bent over with hands on knees, his backside close to her face. Cloacina sat kneeling on the ground with her legs folder underneath her thighs, buttocks resting on her heels. Her mouth was open, positioned close to the backside of Uranus. A turd protruded from his anus. Cloacina’s tongue touched the underside of his turd, guiding it into her mouth.

At this point in the narrative, I shall speak for myself as the Master of these slaves and of all that I survey. I was still closely monitoring Barbara’s mind from behind her eyes, but only as a secondary matter. My main focus was on my own body at the moment. I was dressed in men’s clothing, a simple white Greek tunic of the sort the ancients wore called a chiton. I had paraded up the path in the midst of my loyal slaves. Now I climbed the stone stairs to the grassy top of the circular altar of Cloacina. I was prepared to fulfill the role of Uranus. My slaves all wondered who would fulfill the role of Cloacina this day.

I watched as my slaves climbed up the tiered seating of the stone amphitheater. Their diaphanous robes fluttered lazily in the early morning light, revealing the delightful breasts, butts, and cunts behind the fabric. One by one the bitches sat down on thickly padded red cushions that protected their delicate bottoms. I gazed at row upon row of spectacular young beauties, each one in the prime of her life, dressed in tantalizing, see-through, whitish robes. I smiled at each of them and each bitch smiled back at me. Every one of these cunts was my intimate, my lover, and my personal property to do with as I pleased. Every cunt knew it. Every cunt loved it.

“My slaves” I said. “My loves. I have added 3 new cunts to my harem.” I pointed to Barbara, Sharon, and Helen, who were sitting in the lowest tier of the amphitheater next to Christine, Liv, Kathy, and Felicity. “I kidnapped, raped, and enslaved these cunts the day before yesterday. Last night I made Barbara a wife-slave. Her 14-year-olds are now my daughter-slaves. They call me Daddy. I used all 3 of them during our orgy. You all know about that. You saw it happen.”

My audience cheered and applauded.

“On their very first night, after I had raped each of them, these bitches made a very special request” I said.

Loudspeakers hidden among the trees suddenly sounded with the recorded voices of Barbara, Sharon, Helen, and me from the other night.

“Please shit in my mouth, Master” said Barbara. “I’ll do anything, anything. And my girls will too. If you’ll just shit in our mouths. Please? Pretty please? We promise to eat every one of your turds. Swallow them right down. Then let us clean your asshole. Please? We’re begging you Master. Please shit in our mouths!”

“Please shit in my mouth, Master!” said Sharon

“Please shit in my mouth, Master!” said Helen.

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