Chapter 8

At the Athletics Center, I needed to cut through the pool area to get to the Judo Dojo inside the gymnasium. The water ballet team was practicing synchronized swimming. Those gorgeous nude mermaids were performing a set of elaborate moves in the water, accompanied by music. As I walked up to the pool edge, they were in a heads-down vertical position displaying their wet asses, and then they moved into a split position, one leg stretched forward and the other extended back. The sight of all those wet pussies lined up on display was stunning.

I walked into the gym and went to the locker room to don my judogi. I walked out into the boxing area on my way to the Dojo. There was a boxing ring where two boxers were sparring. Some boxers were jumping rope, and others were shadow boxing in front of mirrors mounted on the walls. I used to always walk quickly through the punching bag area, but this time I stopped and looked the bags over.

A boxer in hand wraps was pounding the first pair of speed bags in line. He was practicing his repetitive punching skills. First he would throw a fast combo of blows on the left bag and then change the combo for the right bag.

I went up to the next set of speed bags. They were a pair of DD breasts hanging down from a horizontally bound slut. She was blindfolded and gagged. Written on her large boobs was her violation and punishment time left: LAZY 3 DAYS.

There was sign on the wall explaining what times the Closest Male Relative could drop off and pickup their slut needing punishment. It also explained the relative amount of pain the slut would feel from the various types of boxing training. There was a fee if a CMR wanted their slut to get the maximum amount of punishment in a day. I looked back at the pair of speed bags currently being punched and saw a sign saying to use that slut before other speed bags.

I went to the heavy bag section. There the sluts were bound in either an upright or head down vertical position. They were also blindfolded, but had clear packing tape sealing their mouths shut. Boxers wearing heavy bag gloves were practicing their power punching and body blows on the women’s bodies. The favorite targets of the punches were ass, breasts, and face. I went up to one of the unoccupied punching bags. The slut’s face was heavily bruised and had written on it: NAGGING 2 DAYS.

In the corner was a boxer practicing his jabs and uppercuts on the pussy of a slut suspended horizontally. She was face down with her legs spread wide apart. Her ass was higher then her head making her cunt the easiest part of her to hit. Written on her lower ass cheeks was: BACKTALKING 4 DAYS.

As I entered the Dojo, I made a standing bow to the Kamiza, where Professor Kano’s picture was located, and then took my place on the mat. After the opening of the class, Sensei Takahashi asked me to explained how I was attacked and defended myself this morning. I thought to myself, “The rumor mill moves at light speed on our campus.” When I got to the part about biting the cunt to keep from passing out from a face full of pussy, the whole class had a big laugh.

After Sensei explained what I had done right and where I had been lucky, he said that he had been interviewed about me by a BFA Agent in the Slavery Enforcement and Fugitive Retrieval Unit. He was also told that the SEFR had received reports of Blue Bands going rogue in other locations. Because of that, he was going to now concentrate on teaching what fighting techniques are used by the former Slavecops and which waza to use to counter a particular attack.

I was paired up with a new member of the Dojo to practice our defensive counter-moves. His name is Lucas. He notices me trying to not stare at the large scar on the left side of his neck. It looked like a knife just missed his jugular. While we are practicing our waza, he explained to me how it happened.

“I was married to my wife for just over three years when I noticed that my neighbors had started to avoid me. When I tried to talk to them when out walking they would always have some excuse about not having time to talk. Then my best friend, out of the blue, told me to enslave my wife and sell her for the money. When I asked why, he would not give me a real answer. When I watched the recording that was sent to me anonymously, it opened my eyes. I was the laughingstock of my neighborhood. My wife was fucking anyone coming into the neighborhood: delivery men, garbage men, and even a renderer making a pickup of a discarded slavegirl.”

“What did you do then?” I asked.

“I went straight home and found her in the kitchen making dinner. I asked her why she was doing this to me. She turned to face me and stabbed me in the neck with a butcher knife.” He then showed me the jagged scar across the palm of his left hand from when he grabbed the knife in his neck that his wife was trying to stab deeper.

“I knocked her out in one punch. I used the medical kit enough to stop my bleeding, but not enough to prevent scarring. I wanted something to remind me of what she did to me. I then cut her limbs off one by one. This time I made sure there would be no scars as I sealed off each wound of hers. I pulled out all her teeth and then took her to a body shop and had her C cup breasts enlarged to massive L cup mammaries. I had her ass enlarged to the same proportion. By the time they removed her lower ribs, she went from 34-24-34 to 44-18-44.”

“You made her into a pillow girl,” I said.

“No, I installed her face up in the bottom of the toilet bowl. Her only food was from me shitting on her face.”

“Did you ever talk to a grief counselor about what happened?”

“Yes, he told me to use a disposal kit on her and move on by getting a new slavegirl,” Lucas replied.

“Did you have her chopped into dog food?”

“No, I love her too much. After a few months, I uninstalled her and started using her as a fucktoy. On the anniversary of the attack, I asked her if she wanted me to use the woman disposal kit on her and she said no. Since then I drop her off in the mornings at the campus slave compound so she can socialize with others when I am at work.”

“You know, it’s not just organs and muscles they can regrow now. With a few months of treatments, they can regrow bones,” I explained.

Lucas looked down at his scarred hand, lifted it to touched his neck scar, and did not speak to me for the rest of the class.

When I returned to the office after Judo practice, Cumpig told me that she normally rounded up the department slavegirls at the end of the work day and made sure that they all got to the cunt compound. She also said that as a piece of office equipment, Spunkybuns needed to get plenty of stretching and aerobics to stay tip-top fuckable. Cumpig said she was personally taking yoga and jazzercise classes, but there was also stationary biking on QuikRape DP-Trainers or bitchwalking on the Dogcelerators. I said to collect Spunkybuns with the other department cunts and that yoga and jazzercise was fine for now.