PMU: Damian's Story Ch. 39

+-+ Pocket Monster University: Damian's Story +-+

+-+ Chapter Thirty-Nine +-+

Damian awoke with his arms around women who were important to him. One arm was pulling Beatrice into him, while the other kept Courtney firmly against his chest. It was, he thought, a pretty good way to wake up. He felt something warm and wet touch his cock, and a quick glance down his body revealed that his sister was licking his shaft. He was surprised, not at the audacity of his slave to have started licking her master's cock before being ordered to, but that he was really starting to think of Desdemona as his sister. And the Demoness was doing a very good job of being a dutiful slave-sister, lavishing his manhood with submissive adoration. He was struck by an urge to give her a head-pat of encouragement, but his hands were stuck on two other women. It was the most first world problem he'd ever had, and that was probably a good thing on the balance.

His morning bliss was interrupted by his roommate, who had started slapping her slaves much louder than the time of morning justified. "Kero!" she shouted as a slap echoed off the walls and ceiling. "Kero!" she shouted triumphantly again as another slapping sound rang out. Damian wasn't sure which of her slaves was getting spanked, or whether the three of them were taking turns having their butts made rosy by their mistress' hand. Pippi roared, and though Damian's heart sense picked up her masochistic longing alongside that of Willow and Malice, he couldn't tell which of them was receiving their mistress' firm hand and which were waiting and hoping for their chance to be smacked. It was annoying to him, and that made Damian feel guilty. Obviously a mistress needed to provide her slaves the kind of training and domination they required, and he was aware that Adelaide had really struggled to work herself up to deliver the kind of of discipline that her slaves needed. Telling her to stop would be absolutely unreasonable on his part, and it made him look forward to joining one of the sororities. Having his own room would be a major advantage.

Barbara and Hinako were happy enough to sleep on the ceiling and look down at his lovemaking sessions, but even so there just wasn't room for Damian's slaves to conduct a proper orgy with Courtney's slaves while keeping to his side of the room. They had done a pretty good job of it, however, after a bit of horn locking Mallory had proven to be stronger than Horny, and the red-skinned Demon had knelt to submissively like the Dragon Witch's cunt. Oksana and Phoebe were kind of constrained,, and had ended up simply watching the various acts of lovemaking rather than getting any of their own. It reminded Damian of the extra bunks he saw in the sorority bedrooms. Ample space for guests to pair off and dominate each other.

"We need to get ready for class," he declared. Courtney mmmphed and snuggled into his chest. Refusing her implied offer of blowing off class for snuggles was no easy feat.

+-+-+

"Who can tell me what Penetration Imprinting is?" Professor Lorre asked the class. Considering how often imprinting was used as a plot device in books and movies, it wasn't surprising that a lot of students had an answer. Several hands went up, but it was Samus who got called on. Damian got the impression that the teacher would have preferred that the blond Warrior had become the teacher's pet for that semester over Britney the Dragon. She got called on a lot.

Standing up so that the entire class could see her, Samus spoke confidently. "Penetration Imprinting is a form of pleasure-based primary submission in which a bitch becomes owned by the dominant who is penetrating them. The ecstasy of penetration leaves the bitch fixated on and addicted to the penetrator." Eager to get the extra credit in the eyes of the professor, she elaborated. "It is a related concept to the idea of slavegasm. But where slavegasm is the pleasure-based general submission by which a bitch slave-breaks into slavery, a penetrative imprintation is a primary submission in which a bitch's hole conforms to their owner. A bitch can only truly slavegasm once, though they can imprint several times to different dominants." It was a pretty good answer.

"All of that is technically correct," the teacher conceded, "For a submissing to imprint while being penetrated, they need to have a category four orgasm while submitting to a dominant. This usually requires penetration in the ass or cunt, but that is not strictly required. A submissive bitch who has a level four orgasm while sucking on a mistress' strap-on rod can be just as owned as one whose pussy was filled with cock while their pathetic sub-mind was blasted away into subspace." She strode confidently in front of the class, eyeing each student in turn. "And what is the key component of a category four orgasm? Adam?" She pointed right at the Royal man, though she said his name like she wanted clarification that it was his name at all.

The blond man eeped under the professor's glare. She made no secret of the fact that she did not believe that all the men in the class actually belonged in Tough Core. If it were up to her, the number of men in Beauty Core and Tough Core would be the same. Damian thought she was probably right, but he still didn't like how condescendingly surprised she acted every time he succeeded at a class assignment. On the other hand, he thought she was probably specifically correct about Adam, because that man didn't seem very tough at all. His answer to the question was pretty mid. "Um... it's an orgasm that meets all the criteria of a category three, but is stronger than any other orgasm. So, like, "

It was an answer bad enough to make Damian groan. Even before Professor Lorre began laying into him, he knew what was coming. "No!" The teacher held up her hands like she was ready to pounce. "A category four submissive orgasm is not necessarily the strongest orgasm a submissive experiences! It is the strongest within their proximal memory. Sheesh." Turning to the rest of the class, she continued in a less annoyed tone of voice. "Now it is true that virgins, by dint of having no other sexual experiences, are prone to category four orgasms when they are thoroughly dominated. Can anyone think of other scenarios that can encourage a category four orgasm?"

"Extended denial," suggested one student, "Amnesia suggested another.

Professor Lorre seemed to like those ideas. "Yes, an enforced period of denial, with or without chastity locks can place previous high-intensity submissions out of proximal memory, allowing for a new domination to overwrite ownership. Similarly, amnesiac drugs or psychic mind wipes can leave a bitch temporarily unaware of previous orgasms, allowing ownership to be taken by default."

The whole idea made Damian a bit queasy, and he made a disgusted face. He couldn't imagine what it must be like to look at a slave and know that some other person had fucked them and dominated them better, and that they only served because they'd been tricked into thinking you were the best long enough to bind themselves. Intellectually, he knew that there were those who bought slaves, and obviously they did that because they couldn't dominate a bitch to slavegasm and train them properly. But he wasn't sure how he'd be able to face his mother and tell her that he had bought a slave from someone else who had down all the hard work of slavebreaking.

A snarky comment was made by Ivy. "You could just... get good and fuck them harder." A giggle went around the class, and Damian joined in until he remembered that he was in a class whose teacher sometimes put students into training collars. With the obvious disrespect from the Doll Warrior, he was expecting the teacher to respond in kind, and those expectations were subverted. It seemed that Professor Lorre was quite sympathetic to the idea that dominants should take ownership of their bitches by simply dominating them better.

Given that the Chicken Train event was scheduled for that night, Damian thought discussions of imprinting were well timed. The whole charity auction depended on dominating bitches and then auctioning them off as temporary slaves. It wasn't how Damian liked to do things, but the tradition was established enough that he supposed all the women who got on that train would expect to be dominated and sold. It was a hard head space to get into for him.

Selling off slaves seemed like such a fundamental break in the natural order. A bitch who was dominated into slavery should, in Damian's opinion, be treasured by their owner. Not sold or given away. And then he thought of his mom, who had been masterless for years since his father died. Obviously she needed an owner who would take care of her, and so he was not, and could not be, ethically against slaves having multiple owners during their lives. It was difficult to articulate why he felt that re-enslavement of a slave who had lost their owner was right and selling a slave was wrong. He knew that there was just no way he could participate in the charity auction without feeling shitty and conflicted. But he was still going to do it, because he wanted to have his own room.

+-+-+

Theodora's wings pixelated as she paced. The chronometer was constantly in her vision, and the delays caused her anxiety to grow and grow. "This is taking too long," she declared, gesturing toward the lower-right corner of her vision where the numbers that only she could see continued to increase.

"There's no alarms yet," Debby replied. The stripe-tailed Scout Demon was in charge of watching the physical world, just as Theodora was in charge of watching the world of electronic signals. They were all fugitives, and an long dalliance would assuredly be met with reprisals. Both because they were feral Pokegirls, and because of all the crimes and terrorist attacks they'd committed. That was simply a natural result of them being servants of The Queen of Black Hearts and Red Swords.

The Demoness in question was looming over a captive. A red-haired woman who worked for the transit authority. Her nametag said that her name was Keegan, but if the artifact worked, that would hardly matter. Bound to a chair with ropes, there was nothing she could do to save herself from the fate that the Feral Pokegirls had in mind for her."Francine come," the Succubus spoke the first dactyl of her heroic hexameter, "Gather the Mirror that We have so Long waited To deploy." She waved her hand imperiously at the

"Of courssse, Missstresss," Francine hissed. The Toxic Lizard Demon carried the mirror like it was both a sword and a shield. Or perhaps like it was a battle standard or a folding chair at a wrestling ring. Her dominating pheromones made Keegan whimper with need, though of course they were not very effective against their Succubus leader.

When the mirror was focused on the bound woman, she began to change. Corruption swirled around her body first in the reflection, and then it was reflected back into the real world as well. Her red hair became longer, her fingernails became claws. The growth in her body shredded her clothes and snapped the ropes that had been binding her to the chair. She was free, except that she would never be free again. The Succubus laughed in triumph, the test had been successful. Whack! The lash of submission struck the newly created Pokegirl. It was super effective. Whack! Whack! Evelyn's cackling was the only sound that was nearly as loud as the crack of the whip against Keegan's naked flesh.

No longer sitting, Keegan was kneeling. She looked up and saw her queen's superior pussy. Tears streamed down her face as she kissed it in total submission. She was being subjugated by The Queen of Black Hearts and Red Swords. Her own pussy rewarded her for her declaration of servitude. She had powers now, she was a Vampire Demon in her own right, but the pussy in front of her was so much more dominant than her own that resistance was unthinkable.

Few things gave Evelyn as much pleasure as topping a bitch for the first time, and so she was reluctant to heed the warnings of Debby when she squeaked out that an alarm had been raised. Still, she had not avoided capture for so long because she took unnecessary risks. Debby was timid, but she was also prudent. Evelyn threw her new conquest over her shoulder, and made to depart.

+-+-+

During lunch, Damian had to excuse himself from getting a blowjob from Lucinda or Morgana, both of whom wished to service him under the table. It wasn't something he'd normally do, but he needed to have some Demon talk, and fortunately Courtney had prevailed upon Esmeralda to make an appearance at their corner of the dining hall. He'd dragged Mary and Tara there as well, and the combined group of Rabbits, Witches, and Demons was actually pretty large. Damian didn't know what the twins thought about everything that was going on, because they were simply too far away to effectively converse.

Desdemona and Horny were going to be controversial inclusions in the pack, and so Damian was prepared for Mary and Tara to need convincing. Esmeralda already knew the pleasure of being pressed against a wall and fingered to orgasm by Horny, and so the bashful Goblin was already onboard before negotiations even started. So when everyone had plates of food, he endeavored to make it as palatable as possible. "This is my sister, Desdemona. She is my slave, but she has a lot of experience as a Demon, because she was raised by a threat on the uber ban list. So, even though she's a Pokegirl and a slave, I expect that she'll be really helpful to have in the pack." The black-haired Demoness put her hands on the black see-through babydoll nighty she was wearing and gave a little curtsy. "And Horny... she's Courtney's slave. We found her in the Dark Dungeons, and she is able to use pact magic. She used the No Retreat pact when we fought her, and obviously we will not be learning that one, but I think she has a lot to teach us about Demon-specific powers." The red-skinned Demoness pushed her radiantly crimson breasts out in pride at the praise. "With six members we wouldn't be doing any rule-of-three stuff, but we could make a proper training pentagram with one of us in the middle to bolster. If Karvia or Mandy join, we'd be able to have a fuck session inside a training pentagram, which I think would be really helpful."

While Tara seemed to have momentarily forgotten who Karvia and Mandy were, Mary had a different concern. "We're not joining a pack just to help you train your slaves," she declared, "You'd better not expect us to sit around a pentagram masturbating while your Pokegirls reap the benefits."

He considered. "That's reasonable. I mean, Desdemona and Horny are valuable members of the pack, but they are slaves." He nonchalantly grabbed Desdemona and Horny by their horns and pulled them down. Knowing their places, both Pokegirls obediently knelt down, their faces at crotch level. He gestured with his face at Tara and Mary. "These slaves will lick your pussies. Pull your skirts up and ride their faces." Worry flashed across the Bloody Clown's face, but she still raised her skirt. Tara didn't even think about it before raising her skirt over her thick thighs and stone-hard ass. It revealed that both women were wearing thongs, though Mary's was blood-red and Tara's was black.

Desdemona crawled forward and placed one of her hands on each of Mary's hips. Her black-nailed fingers dexterously moved under the side straps of her panties. Mary's pale flesh did little to hide the contours of her pelvic bones, the little bumps of her iliac crests held the panty-waistline up until Desdemona passed it down. "That's a pretty, white pussy," the Demoness purred as she gazed hungrily at Mary's revealed snatch, "I'll bet it's delicious." The Succubus' tongue snaked out and explored the valley of the Clown's cunt. Her tongue entered the gash only as far as the first knuckle of her pink, and then she drew it up the length until she reached the clit. Mary moaned, and a salty liquid dribbled out into Desdemona's mouth. "So delicious," the Succubus confirmed. Then she used her bite on the pale, exposed clit of the Clown Demon. Imbued with dark magic, it was super effective.

"Ohhh! Shit!" Mary screamed. She came. She was confused. At first she thought that she had hurt herself in her confusion, but it was actually just a form of flinching rather than an ongoing confusion status. She humped her crotch into Desdemona's face with wild abandon, clutching the kneeling Demoness' horns and pulling her face ever deeper into the dripping cunt. A small part of Mary's mind contemplated the possibility that Desdemona's kneeling was merely a false surrender,

While the Bloody Clown was being mercilessly feasted upon by the nominally submissive Succubus, Tara was being set upon by another Raging Demon. Horny used her titular horns to snap the waistband of the Rhinoceros Demon's panties. Her black scraped harmlessly along Tara's rock-hard skin, and cut through the panties like they were a rubber band holding together a bunch of parsley. The Cow Demon reached around to grasp Tara's buttocks and then body pressed the standing woman into her face. Her fighting aura was active, and it was super effective.

Tara grunted bestially. Her clit enlarged and became a full horny drill. She started drilling the red-faced woman in the mouth, her pseudo-phallus penetrating lips and throat. It wasn't very effective, but it was highly enjoyable for both Demons.

Seeing that the two trainers were at that moment highly preoccupied with the kneeling Pokegirls, Beatrice flew over to her master to buzz in his ear. "Hmmm... they are ready. This would be a perfect time for you to whip them, hmmm?" And it was true that they were blazing in his heart sense, but he knew that whipping them both with his lash of submission wasn't the right thing to do.

Because the lash was only super effective against Mary. For Tara, the use of his own fighting aura would be more effective. And that was why he used his bare left hand to smack Tara's solid behind. Smack! Her skin was hard as rock, but the fighting aura made it shake like a trademarked gelatin dessert. It was super effective. Smack! With her horny drill lodged in Horny's mouth, she could not avoid the strikes. All she could do was moan erotically. Meanwhile, his right arm uncoiled the lash of darkness, and he gave Mary's alabaster butt a good strike. Crack! It was super effective. Whack! He gave her another strike for good measure.

With a roar of triumph and defeat, Tara orgasmed under the combined assault of Damian and Horny. Her horny drill receded, leaving her with a clit that was merely normally large and an undefended pussy. The Rhinoceros Demon shook and fell to hands and knees as Horny pulled her to the floor. Damian smacked her ass again, sending fighting aura pulsing into her rump. Tara shuddered and lowered her breasts and face to the floor. When her boobs were on the ground, she completed the tripod of submission by reaching back with with her hands to pull her butt cheeks apart.

Beside her, Mary got down on all fours. As a medium-breasted woman, she did not have the instinct to tripod, but she nonetheless wiggled her butt in enticement to be mounted. But there was still one more Demon who wanted in on the action. Esmeralda got on her hands and knees on Tara's other side. Her sapphire eyes glinted inscrutably as she assumed the position.

With three sexy Demon behinds to choose from, Damian did the only thing that made sense: he whipped them all. Whack! Whack! Whack! To Mary's white butt, it was super effective, and the new re stripes were accompanied by ecstatic moans. The effects on Esmeralda and Tara weren't nearly as dramatic, but both women were waving their butts and whimpering for cock. His heart sense told him that all three of them were sincere, so knelt down behind them and placed two fingers from each hand against the sopping cunts of Esmeralda and Mary. He schlipped them inside the cold, wet holes of the two ghost-aspected trainers, and noticed that he didn't have a hand free to get his cock into Tara's own molten core. His sister noticed his predicament and slipped behind him so she could reach in and help aim his spear. He found purchase and was able to push himself deep into her with the power of his own hips.

The rest of the dining hall faded from Damian's attention and the three women he was pleasuring filled the void. He thrust and teased. Squelching sounds rang in his ears and he didn't even know which of the trainers were responsible for each liquid schlorp. It didn't really matter, he could feel them approaching orgasms of submission, and so he adjusted the speed and depth of his penetrations so that all three of them would be in their orgasmic state at overlapping times. He thought it would be a good team building exercise. As the three Demons screamed in pleasure, Damian felt that he had been right.

Desdemona thought he was right too. She walked over to stand in front of the three women. "Welcome to the pack," she said smugly, "In this pack, we submit to Master Damian's cock. You bitches think you can do that?" All three panting trainers moaned that they could.

He considered his sister. That had been some quality topping from the bottom that she had used on Mary. If she had been allowed to grow up in a family that kept her corruption low so that she could have become a trainer in her own right, he thought she would have done well in Beauty Core. Which made sense, given that she was a Succubus. Of course, so was he, but Damian still couldn't imagine doing things in the Beauty methods instead of the Tough methods himself.

While he was sitting at the lunch table, thinking about different domination methods and how to best utilize the Succubus strengths that he and his sister possessed, Esmeralda sat next him and put her head in his lap. Mary was quick to do likewise from the other side. Tara crawled under the table and sniffed his crotch from below. Rini didn't seem amused at all. "If you put together a Demon army, I am definitely going to take you down," the pink-haired Witch informed him. He had no idea what to say to that.

+-+-+

When Damian received his Mathemagic quiz back, it was as dire as he'd predicted. He really did not want to have to repeat the class, it would throw off his Alchemy progression. Samantha and Robin had taken seats next to him, and could see his abysmal score. Not that anyone else in the class had done a whole lot better, Damian thought the teacher was making some kind of point.

"Master Damian," Samantha began, the honorific sliding off her tongue easily to the point where one could forget that she had styled herself his enemy just a few weeks prior, "Now that you're putting your pack together, are you going to retain ownership of our coven?"

He looked at the two Witches and saw their concern. "Don't worry," he told them earnestly, "I'm still going to sodomize you bitches." He didn't need to rely on his heart sense to feel the relief from both women.

It seemed Samantha had more concerns. "If you're going to continue training us," she mused, "and you're going to be in a dominant role with the new pack, it's inevitable that there will be sororitization between the coven and the pack. How do you view lesbian relationships?"

"Usually in ten-eighty P," he admitted. Damian did not further elaborate, for fear that he'd be thought shallow based on his opinion that a lot of makeup that looked fine at resolutions he would consider "medium-high" were surprisingly unsettling at 4k and higher. If pressed, he'd probably come up with some nonsense about how he didn't want to spend the hard-drive space on extra resolution on something he might be watching on a small screen, but the reality was that he could appreciate the difference in picture quality and he'd just rather not see stubble, black heads, and foundation smudge on women who weren't physically present being fucked by him. The limitations of video resolution that was only nearly perfect blurred flaws in grooming and makeup, allowing his imagination to fill the cracks between the pixels.

The Witches didn't seem to be interested in prying into his motivations for choosing file sizes. "Once dating starts between members of the pack and members of the coven," Samantha speculated, "it's inevitable that there will be... dominance issues. Who do you foresee as being the mistresses and who do you wish to crawl before them?" The Tapir Witch's nose twitched with curiosity.

"Huh?" Damian was boggled. "I can't imagine that it would only go one way. I mean, Esmeralda submits to Courtney because she wants to. And Robin submits to you because she's more submissive than you are. I've given you the rule that I'm the only man who is allowed to ram his cock up your asses, but I'm not naive enough to think you won't be rubbing your pussies on other women's faces, that would be absurd." He shook his head at the ridiculousness of the idea. "So I get it. I'll be training with the other Demons, and I'll still be training you and the rest of your coven. You Witches are all switches who submit to me and dominate slaves of your own, and so far it looks like several of the Demons in my pack are in the same boat. Naturally, you'll be in contact a lot, and it wouldn't surprise me at all if some of you get to tying each other up. But just like you and Robin seem to have worked out a pussy-licking hierarchy, I'm fine with whatever you come up with between you and the Demons."

Samantha hesitated. "Master Damian... if one of us Witches took one of the demons in your pack to a taming salon, are you really saying you'd be OK with it?" Everything from her expression to her tone of voice indicated that she was pretty sure he would not be OK with it...

... Which got a laugh from Damian. "Look, if you and Mary go to a taming salon together, you're both still bending over for me. Your ass belongs to me, Samantha, nothing is going to change that." The truth of his words made her shiver. "But also, don't think that Mary is a pushover just because she submits when I strike her with the lash of submission. Her mind is full of ghostly torment, and if you open yourself up to it through psychic channels you could really end up becoming a masochistic pain-slut." Casually, he reached over and pinched the nipple of her right breast. Predictably, Samantha squealed like an aroused Tapir. "Like, even more of a masochistic pain-slut than you already are. Seriously, exposure to her bitter malice could leave you accepting a brand or a submission piercing of your nipples."

At first, Samantha snort-giggled like he'd made a joke, but when she saw how serious he was, she became quiet in contemplation. There was perhaps more to say, but a new quiz was being passed around, and Damian turned his entire attention to that instead.

Question One: Fill In The Circle For All Correct Answers:

(A) All of the Below

(B) None of the Below

(C) All of the Above

(D) One of the Above

(E) None of the Above

(F) None of the Above

There were a lot of options, but Damian thought he saw how to answer it. He definitely felt better about the quiz in his hands than he had about the Wednesday quiz. Maybe he wouldn't have to repeat Mathemagics after all.

+-+-+

Karen was at her desk, sorting the TPS reports that had come in throughout the week. As was always the case, a number of TPS reports were missing cover letters and in many cases were incomplete in other ways. Tracking such things was certainly one of the worst parts of her job, and having to look up the information to complete the TPS report cover letters that other employees more familiar with the subject matter had essentially blown off was aggravating. But of course, no matter how often she thought about quitting, she knew that she wasn't going to. Her son had a scholarship, but he still didn't have any income to take care of his slaves. And her daughter was already plotting to collar multiple women and was going to be in school for years to come. As the sole bread winner of the family, she had to... fill in the missing information on the cover sheets of TPS reports. There really wasn't another option.

"Excuse me," a timid voice came from the doorway of the office, "Mrs. Duarte, could I talk to you for a bit?" It was Uma, one of the new hires. Not two years out of college, and still wearing tennis shoes to work and then changing into the high-heeled pumps that the bosses wanted them to wear once she got to the office. It meant she was taking the bus and not driving in. The blond-haired woman was quite the looker, and that combined with her shy demeanor had a lot of rumors swirling about her that she was one bitching post away from a collar.

And while the speculation around the water cooler was wildly off-base, Karen knew that the basic thrust of it was correct. As a fellow submissive, she could practically smell the slave-heat on Uma. "Of course," she said, looking up from another misclassified TPS report, "Come on in. But call me Karen. As a slave-widow, I don't wear my master's collar anymore. Haven't for a long time."

Uma's eye's bulged with the mention of masters and collars, and she quietly closed the door before taking tiny steps to arrive before Karen's desk like she was a student in trouble. "Mrs. uh... Karen... You're a slave, right? How do you know if you're a slave? What if I never... How do I know if I need to be owned?"

Karen smiled. If her master was still alive... she swallowed that thought. "Sometimes you don't know," she told the younger woman, "Sometimes the first way you know that you have slave pussy is when you feel the tingle from a dominant's command. But also, sometimes your slave-pussy cries out for ownership and there's no dominant around to collar you. Of course, one of the best ways to identify slave pussy is simply to test it. Dominants can take control of slave pussies easily enough, but other slaves can usually recognize slave-heat."

"Really?" Uma said with a mix of fear and hope in her voice.

The more experienced submissive nodded. "Of course. In fact, one of the greatest joys a slave can have is finding the inner slave of another bitch and helping them to submit to an owner. You've heard of recruiter slaves, right?" Of course Uma had heard of recruiter slaves. Nonetheless, thinking about the subject caused her to gasp before she nodded her head. "Slaves like me have... insights into the motivations of bitches who have the... inclination to become slaves. And when we have an owner, we have a purpose for finding those bitches and making sure they become slaves that our owner can enjoy." Karen put her work down entirely and allowed her gaze to linger on her co-worker. A bit frazzled, a bit on the skinny side, but definitely attractive. She would make a good slave once she'd been trained. Not for the first time, Karen wished that she was owned herself. Her husband-master would have loved breaking the younger woman to the whip and collar. She snapped back to the seriousness of the present. "Uma, put your hands on the desk. Shoulder width apart. Lock your knees, this will naturally raise your butt and present your pussy for inspection.

Uma hesitantly complied, but she did comply. "Yes... Karen." In that position, the green pencil skirt hugged the woman's butt closely enough that both cheeks were clearly defined and the crack between could well be inferred. The older woman stood. Where Uma was a jittery mess, Karen moved with the cool confidence of someone who had been fully trained. Someone who had gone through subspace and out the other side and no longer doubted herself at all. Her breasts seemed larger and fuller than she remembered, they looked like they'd been sculpted to suit an owner's preferences. Uma was so jealous.

As Karen walked around Uma, the younger woman naturally began turning her head to track the movement. "Face forward. Eyes in front," Karen commanded critically, and Uma obeyed. Soon she could not see Karen even out of the corner of her eye. "I know you're a submissive bitch Uma, I can see it in your eyes, I can smell it on you like the knock-off perfumes you wear. But to really test to see if you have slave-pussy, I'm going to need to check your pussy. What do think I'm going to find? Do you think this traitorous little pussy is going to be in full slave-heat when I touch it? When do you think your pussy is going to make you slavegasm your freedom away?"

"I..." Uma couldn't answer. She felt Karen's hands exploring and caressing her rump, heard the zzzzzip of her skirt being opened before she felt the touch of the air on the outside of her thigh. "Ooooh."

The skirt was pulled down to collect around the ankles, and the panties were revealed. Simple white things, appropriate for work, but hardly the kind of thing that would attract the notice of a master or mistress. "You need better panties," Karen told her, right before she put her fingers into the waist-band and pulled them down to join the skirt on the floor, "A master or mistress is going to look at panties like that and think you aren't ready for eternal servitude. I'm going to throw them away for you. From now on, if you wear panties at all, they have to be sexy panties. Even to work. Especially to work. Almost forty percent of slaves were enslaved in the workplace, I know I was."

"But..." whatever objection she was about to raise was slapped out of her as the older women gave her rump a touch from her open hand. "Ooooh!" Uma had long fantasized about being spanked, and the reality was even more fulfilling than she had imagined.

A smile crept across Karen's lips. She'd known that Uma was submissive, but the feeling of unwrapping the slave within her was exquisite. She kept her hand against her coworker's smooth behind and moved it closer to the center. Her fingers entered Uma's crack. She placed another hand between the woman's legs and raised them up until she found the pussy. It was as hot and wet as she'd known it would be. Squelch. "There it is. This is slave pussy, Uma. It's just like mine." Two fingers went into Uma's cunt. Squelch. They pulled back and went in again. Squelch. "You're keeping position, Uma. That's so good. Your pussy is in slave-heat and you're just letting me finger it, because in your heart you know that you are already a slave." Squelch. Squelch. Squelch. "You want it, don't you Uma? You need to slavegasm. You're not resisting at all, because you have slave-pussy and the slave-pussy is in complete control. You want to cum, don't you Uma? You want to cum and be owned."

"Yessss..." Uma hissed, pushing her backside into the fingers that were invading her cunt. "Oh, I think it's happening. It's happening! I'm gonna break!"

Karen pulled her fingers out of the young submissive woman's cunt and gave her ass a slap. "Not here you don't! No, you need an owner. A real dominant who can train you into the slave you're meant to be."

Wiggling her ass and panting in need, Uma was near tears. "Please... I need to b enslaved..."

"I know you do," Karen said sadly, "Being a slave without an owner is hard. You need to find an owner who will take control of your pussy and keep it. Or sell it to someone who will."

"But how?" Uma whined.

Fortunately, Karen had an idea. "Tonight is the Chicken Train. I'm sure you can find some alpha to turn you into you into their bitch there. We just need to get you whored up and slave smooth to get you on that train." She'd love to go with her, watch her coworker become a collared piece of slave meat, but in such an environment the chances of her being collared and auctioned off would be pretty high. And as long as she was putting her kids through school, she just couldn't get enslaved by an unknown owner who might take her away from her paying job. She had responsibilities she couldn't walk away from, even if the promise of collar waited for. It was definitely tempting though.

+-+-+

After Alchemy class, the teacher wanted to talk with him. He'd been expecting it, and he was unsurprised to face Professor Achlys' glare once the other students had departed. While he wasn't surprised, he still couldn't move while the oppressive glare of the teacher was focused upon him. It certainly seemed like forever until he could move again, but it was probably only a few rounds, depending on the coin flips. Through it all, the teacher was tapping her fingers against her desk in an impatient tempo that made it feel even more interminable.

"I hear you made contact contact with my daughter," she hissed.

When the power of speech returned to him, Damian nodded in the affirmative. "Yes," he said, "We're going on a fishing trip to Treasure Cove on Monday. I'm going to try to convince her to join my pack. Next week, perhaps you can watch your daughter training with me." He said it with a leer. Not a magically assisted leer, like Professor Achlys was capable of, just the kind of leer that naturally accompanied looking at a woman he had fucked in the ass. He'd fucked her wife in the ass as well, and was quite looking forward to completing the set by sodomizing their daughter.

The teacher's slit pupils became razor thin. "Isss it true that you are dominating the Demonsss in your pack? That you are making them into your bitchesss?" she hissed. Her purple hair swayed back and billowed out on the sides in an unmistakable threat display.

"Oh, absolutely," Damian confirmed, "So far we have six members, which is enough to make a proper training pentagram. And so far all the other members submit to me. Obviously if Karvia or Mandy join up and are able to dominate the others in order to become co-dominants for the pack, I would accept that. And if she doesn't want to join a Demon pack where members are being regularly topped by me, then she can choose to not join. But... I think we can both pretty easily imagine your daughter tripodding and accepting her place in the pack as one which is submissive to me. Once I start training her, you and your wife could come and watch." Pandora Achlys gasped. "Wouldn't that be nice?" he asked with a smile, "You and Nancy masturbating each other while you watch your daughter in a full tripod, begging to be trained?"

There was a mix of defiance and arousal in the teacher's face that was difficult to untangle. "Karvia is a ssstrong girl," she insisted, "Ssshe has big, powerful titsss, and ssshe will not easssily sssuccumb."

He agreed. "Oh yes, Professor. Your daughter's tits are massive and fantastic. They are going to look so good pressed against the ground while she's giving me her pussy." Seeing the conflict in his teacher, he approached her and then reached out and grabbed the Snake by the tail. With his hand gripping her butt through her skirt, Damian pulled her against his body. She could feel his poison tamer and Witch tamer working on her, and the hiss that escaped her mouth was aroused more than offended. He could feel her butt in his hand and her breasts against his body. "You know, you're kind of a bad mother, aren't you Pandora? I'm talking about training your daughter with my cock, and you're wondering whether you'll end up drinking my cum out of her cunt instead of trying to stop me." She looked offended, but she didn't say he was wrong. "Don't worry, if your daughter joins my pack, I'll still make you go ass to mouth on my dick. I'll even let her watch."

"Yesss..." Professor Achlys thought she probably would end up licking cum out of her daughter's cunt. She could hardly wait.

+-+-+

"Serena," the black-haired coven member said through gritted teeth, "your daughter is in danger. There is a Demon on the uber ban list, and we have credible prophecies that she is going to attack the sorority party tonight, and it's just going ahead. This is completely irresponsible! We should make them cancel it."

The blond Lunar Witch made a flippant hand gesture. "Relax, Raye. There are credible prophecies all the time." The other Witch fumed and Serena blithely continued. "The Chicken Train slave wrangling and charity auction produces a lot of funds for a children's hospital. You wouldn't want those kids to be sad, would you? Besides, we're going to be monitoring the train for the whole distance. If there's a Demon attack, we'll just jump in and save the day, like we always do!"

Somehow, that completely failed to mollify Raye even a little bit. "What year, month, and day did that happen? Serena, The Queen of Black Hearts and Red Swords has the Mirror. A lot of people could die or get turned into Pokegirls. She could actually just win against us. She's very powerful. I don't want to explode on an ice mountain again."

Serena rolled her eyes. "Raye, I find your lack of faith disturbing. I think you might need to remember who the mistress of this coven is."

"This is serious, Meatball Head!"

Having descended into bratty insults, Serena knew that the fire-aspected Witch was looking to be topped. "You asked for it, Raye!" Roughly, the Rabbit Witch pushed her Bird Witch counterpart against a wall. She raised two fingers in front of the other woman's face in a mockery of a menacing gesture. "Time for your pussy to submit again!" The fingers vanished from Raye's vision as they dropped below her hemline and then hooked up into her ample thigh gap.

"No! No! Oooooh!" As she had many times before, the Mystic Bird Witch succumbed to arousal and began humping her panty-clad cunt against her mistress' hand.

Serena would get her way. She always did.

+-+-+

Wanting to be in top condition for the Chicken Train, Damian made sure to eat a full dinner, take a shower, shave, and wear some actual cologne. Damian went semi-formal, with a dark red shirt under a black blazer. No tie, and with the two two buttons of his shirt undone he looked like someone who was definitely not too uptight to fuck a slave. He also made sure that all five of his Pokegirl slaves were clean, brushed, and dressed to impress. They were going to be acting as recruiter slaves, and it wouldn't do for them to look shabby or uncared for. Once they all looked like they were ready to hit the clubs, he stopped by the health center to regain all his PP.

Upon getting to the meet up location, he was distressed to discover that he was again going to be driven by Trixie. What was far more surprising to him, was the discovery that most of the potential new members would not be actually getting on the Chicken Train to molest women and bring them back to one of the sorority dungeons for pre-auction training. Some of the aspiring sorority sisters would getting the auction ready, some would be posted at each of the train stops to card everyone and warn off people who didn't seem like slave meat from getting on that particular train. There was just one sleazy train at midnight, and the other trains would all be normal. Or at least, as normal as late night circle-line trains ever were.

In retrospect, he felt that he should not have been surprised by this. There were still hundreds of trainers who going to join one of the school's four sororities, and while two hundred people could fit on a single car, there wouldn't be any room to properly slave-break anyone. Feeling people up on a standing-room-only train car was doubtless someone's idea of a good time, but they needed the aisles clear for the audience to properly slave-shame the new recruits. Besides, a number of students were aspiring to be Omegas, and it probably wouldn't make sense to judge them based on their ability to quick-collar submissives on a moving train.

Once he'd discovered that not-capturing was an option, Damian attempted to sign up for one of the menial tasks. He didn't feel great about the idea of dominating women and then selling them to other dominants, even if it was for charity. The woman in charge of such assignments turned out to be Kendra, an upperclasswoman Rakshasa who was also a darkness-aspected Demon with a fighting aura who was a member of the Fighting Gym. If he had expected her to be sympathetic to his request because of their similar magical affinities, he would have been thoroughly disappointed.

"Absolutely not," she told him bluntly, "you are on capture duty." The tiger-tailed woman held up the list and shook it at him. "You can pick which dungeon you use for training, but there ain't no way we're going to let a trainer who has five Pokegirls in freshman year go through the Chicken Train without showing off their slave capturing skills." She looked like she was about ready to say something else, but swallowed it. Damian was of half a mind to try to dig deeper into what the additional reason might be, but decided that it didn't really matter because they weren't going to budge. Once he accepted that there was no way out, he decided that he'd use the Mu Pi dungeon to train any submissives he captured. "Nerd," Kendra delivered her verdict.

It occurred to him that Kendra was herself a Demon, and probably knew a thing or two about putting packs together. He wasn't entertaining the idea that she might not have a pack, she was close to graduation and participated in a lot of club activities, obviously she had a pack of her own. "Kendra, I'm putting a pack together," her eyes narrowed and her tail swished, and he realized that she probably thought he was trying to recruit her, "Do you have any tips? How did you get your pack together?"

Kendra's hackles lowered a bit. "I beat the shit out of them and made them lick my pussy," she informed him. He nodded. It was a pretty good strategy, though obviously he'd have to modify it somewhat if he wished to use it himself.

Reluctantly, Damian got into Trixie's car. Its motor whirred to life, and the first five words that everybody knew of The Offspring's All I Want blasted on the car stereo as the vehicle zoomed off into the night. It was... crazy.

+-+-+

It was an eight car train, and each car was getting six trainers. Damian noticed that the sororities had arranged for a male student to be on each car, which was much higher than the ratio of male to female students in the school as a whole or even in the group of aspiring sorority members. Belatedly, he realized the logic at hand. Many women were heterosexual, and almost half of the non-trainer dominants were men. Every car would probably have women who wanted to submit to a man, and a significant number of potential buyers would be men looking for slaves trained in cock-worship. Of course the sororities wouldn't allow him to do anything but capture duty. Other cars had Gary, Archie, and even Dexter on them. There were four other guys that Damian didn't know, but he was certain they had all been selected for tokenist reasons just as he had been.

Figuring out that he'd been given his marching orders as a box ticking exercise didn't fill him with a lot of confidence, but there was nothing to do but to find some high quality submissives and dominate them until they willingly accepted collaring and training to be auctioned away for a temporary enslavement contract. Well, temporary enslavement was certainly one of those things that could easily become a lot less temporary easily enough. He'd originally gotten Lianne for a temporary collaring, but he'd convinced her to accept a permanent enslavement after less than a week. The submissives who were being auctioned off had to know that there was a substantial chance that the dominant who was purchasing them was going to spend the entire duration of the contract trying to complete their submission. He'd heard that almost one in three of the slaves getting auctioned ended up finding their forever owner. If true, those were even steeper odds than reality TV shows like Enslaved At First Sight.

He found the five female trainers that he'd share a train car with. The twins Annie and Cathy. The monochrome goth Wednesday. The equally monochromatic goth Morgana. And finally, Rini. Other than Wednesday, it could have been a meeting of his regular lunch group. The group was fifty-percent Rabbits, which was obviously pretty weird, but other than that the balance wasn't bad. Two Senseis, two Witches, an Artist and a Demon. There wasn't anything to complain about, really.

Rini stood closer to him than was actually required. "We are here to enslave normal human bitches," she whispered, "If I see you trying to collar the twins, I will pink sugar heart attack you right off a moving train." Well, there was that to complain about, he supposed.

One of the event organizers came to their group to give them a spiel. She was dressed in an outrageous red ball gown with cloth rosettes and pannier side-hoops, it was obvious that she wasn't going to be getting onto the train. Her dress alone would need three seats. "Most of tonight's bitch candidates will get on the train during the first three stops in order to give themselves enough time to break. More slave-curious bitches may get on later in the journey, betting that the time limits will have them getting to the end of the line with their freedom intact. You're welcome to enslave these thrill-seekers, but remember that if they haven't collared themselves by the time the train gets back to the station, you have to let them go." Her face turned stern. "We'll be checking IDs on young-looking bitches who try to get on the train, but remember that it is your responsibility to ascertain that any bitch you collar is old enough to make their own slave contract. We will not be auctioning off anyone under the age of eighteen, and if you bring us someone with a legal guardian you will be disqualified. That is a headache that we do not need."

Ugh. Parental Permission. While many slaves were emotionally invested in having their mothers "give them away" in a traditional collaring ceremony, the term was historically often used as a euphemism for parents selling their children into slavery like they were Roman Matriarchs. A practice that was considered normal until shockingly late in the twentieth century - and still technically legal in a disturbingly large number of states. Damian was completely supportive of the sororities wanting to put a thick wall between themselves and that discussion.

"Other than the trainers from our school," the upperclasswoman continued, "we will not be allowing any men onto the train. In the past we have had success in collaring bitch boys, but experience with more... disruptive elements has made the Pan-Hellenic Conference reluctantly decide that this event is for female submissives only." While Damian was reasonably sure the auction market for femdommed bitch boys was brisk enough to justify their inclusion, he could all too well imagine the kinds of disruptive elements the senior was alluding to. A significant number of men thought that a train full of submissives gave them the right to barge in and take some home for themselves, and it wouldn't take a lot of those guys to ruin the event for everyone.

But it wasn't all just admonitions. The sororities had collars and taming rods for the potential new members to use. Damian didn't really need a taming rod, but he took the black double-sided dildo that had been offered with the vague idea that perhaps his sister Desdemona could put the dominant end into her own cunt in order to doubleteam a prospective bitch or even just be able to thrust into the holes of two bitches at the same time. They were all given half a dozen provisional collars, which was kind of a joke, since obviously no one was going to collar six different people on a single train ride. But it was also prudent, since collars could potentially be lost or damaged during a long train ride with people being dominated to servitude all over the place.

Unfortunately, it seemed that Wednesday had been offered a taming rod that was not to her satisfaction. "I can't use this. It's pink. I'm allergic to color," she said in a completely deadpan voice. The taming rod was indeed a bunch of swirls of white and pink all the way up and down its ribbed shaft. It looked like something that Rini would use, and indeed it wasn't that different from the handle of her moon wand. Whether they were magitech items made by the same enchanter or not, Damian didn't know enough about the subject to speculate. But he'd certainly believe that they were if someone who did know about such things told him so.

Regardless of its origins, Damian was much less adverse to carrying the pink taming rod than Wednesday was. "Look, I'll trade," he told the Morbid Clown, "You can have the black one, it doesn't bother me." The truth was that pink and white weren't really colors that he considered to be part of his wheelhouse. His own slaves assured him that he looked best in black and red as he was currently clothed, which was actually very different from the white and pink candy aesthetic.

Wednesday accepted the trade and at the urging of one her Pokegirl slaves, attempted to smile and offer her gratitude. Her black lips widened and she opened her mouth enough to display teeth that were even whiter than her skin. Damian would have probably been happier not seeing her exposed teeth, but that was Clowns for you.

Having secured the exchange, and being left with a taming rod that was distinctly out of place with his idiom, he turned to Rini. "Um, I know it's not actually important, but would you rather have the pink taming rod than whatever you got?" As it happened, she had been given a taming rod that was carved from granite. It was polished to a slick shine, but it still looked dirty because of the speckles of white, black, and various grays. Rini did, in fact, prefer having the pink one than the gray one, and so before the train even arrived, Damian had swapped again.

There was some murmuring among the event organizers, and Damian got the impression that he had already been tested in some way. He wasn't sure if he'd passed or not.

+-+-+

Six trainers to a train car. The doors opened at the front, back, and middle of the car, which meant that two trainers would get to be in a place where they could get first crack at the women coming in from one of the sets of doors. Annie and Cathy wanted to be together, of course, and they took the middle doors. There were, mathemagically, six different ways to arrange the remaining four trainers. Damian did not care whether he was at the front or the back, which meant that there were still three functionally different ways to arrange them. Damian's suggestion was to have Rini and Wednesday pair off while he paired off with Morgana, a division that Morgana was happy to support and Rini was cautiously fine with.

Wednesday vetoed the plan immediately. "I can't work like this," she said, gesturing to the woman in a pink and white poof-skirt. "No submissive bitch is going to take me seriously if I'm standing next to Miss Marshmallow Cloud Bunny. Obviously, I should be with Morgana." It was a harsh assessment, but she actually made a pretty good point. With matched pairs, submissives could identify where they would most effectively be dominated for themselves. There were many submissives who fantasized about getting owned by twin doms, and getting stepped on by goth women wearing big boots was a common enough fetish for submissives to have. Grudgingly, he acknowledged that Rini was striking enough in her appearance that women would come to her door whether there was any appreciable theme to the area or not. And that was how Damian ended up being posted next to the forward doors of the train car with Rini of all people.

However many women he'd expected to rush the doors when the train stopped for the first time, Damian was certainly surprised when dozens of them jostled into the doors on the very first stop. Some of them immediately claimed seats so that they could watch the fun, but there were still about sixty people in the train. The wave of submissiveness floated in like incense in a tie-dye store, and it was far too much for Damian's heart sense to easily pick out individuals as being especially in need of subjugation. He had to focus on the women one by one to detect their desire for domination.

Annie and Cathy were instantly mobbed, but they had been prepared for it. With dozens of candidates, they had all the bitches kneel down and begin group interviews. Soon then were calling out questions that the candidates would raise hands to answer. It wasn't really how a domina was supposed to dominate a submissive, but Damian couldn't deny that they were effectively dealing with the problems that they had. They'd need to be a bit more professional about it if they wanted to get bitches onto the casting couch for the movies they planned to make. The typical Hollywood starlet who played a submissive in an action or romance movie actually owned two slaves of their own. But in this case, they were dealing with real submissives, and not pretend ones, so it looked like they would be able to narrow it down to slave auditions rapidly enough that they would have time to collar some final candidates and take them to the Delta Nu dungeon. Apparently all three Rabbits had decided to go to the pinkest dungeon, while both goth women had chosen the most dungeony dungeon of Kappa Kappa Tau. Damian wasn't the only trainer going to Mu Pi, he knew Dexter and Samantha were as well, but he was the only trainer with a Mu Pi destination in the train car he was on.

Morgana and Wednesday had the women on their end thoroughly terrorized right away. Damian hadn't seen what Wednesday had exactly done, but the submissives over there had gone almost as white as Wednesday herself. There weren't just two goth women, there were three, because Morgana had already brought out Mordred, her Transforming Slime Pokegirl. With Morgana's own psychic powers and Mordred's ability to assume forms and steal abilities, Damian had no doubt that they'd be able to find a good haul of femdommable bitches.

Someone had apparently leaked Rini's involvement, because several Crystal Millennialists moved directly to the front of their train car. They had done their homework and some of them were babbling something about a prophecy. One of them raised her skirt up to show that she was wearing a steel chastity belt with the key hanging from a bracelet. Two more of them flipped their skirts up to show the metal chastity belts they were wearing, though for them it wasn't obvious to Damian where the keys were. He gave the pink-haired Witch some savage side eye, but it looked like she was as weirded out by the situation as he was.

Damian felt a bit sympathetic to her. While it was obvious that she would have an easy time collecting some enslavable bitches and training them to the collar, the simple existence of these fangirls would taint any accomplishment she could have. Any rival could accuse her of having brought ringer slaves into the competition. No matter what she was able to drag to the auction block, her achievement would be tainted in the eyes of many. He was glad that he wasn't trying to get first place or anything like that, because such concerns were simply beyond him. Rini, on the other hand, was a legacy and a prodigy. Women were literally putting themselves in bondage gear to hope to win her favor precisely because everyone expected great things from her. If Rini didn't come in the top five, people would be gravely disappointed in her. Damian, on the other hand, benefited from low expectations.

Despite being the only man in the train car, he was probably the least sought after trainer there. Being less mobbed with applicants gave him time to consider the women he might molest and collar a bit more dispassionately and in depth. First of all, there were the rubberneckers: women who had come not to be enslaved, but to watch other women be enslaved. Such women might be dominas in training, but a lot of them were slavery-curious, and just afraid to take the plunge themselves. Focusing his heart sense on one after another, he determined that the most submission-prone was a woman in her early thirties wearing a conservative pant-suit. She looked like she'd just come from a prestigious job, and the deep shame she felt for her submissive tendencies was sharply at odds with the strong arousal that her imaginary submission was giving her. Damian understood her intuitively. She didn't want to admit to her co-workers and family that she had slave-pussy, and so had come to the Chicken Train with the intention of hiding at the edges of the action, watching other women fall. She probably expected that she'd reach the end of the line uncaptured, ready to go home and masturbate furiously to what-ifs.

Two young women seemed on the verge of throwing themselves at him. Well, one of them looked like she was planning to throw her friend to him. They both looked skittish, like they were rodents or deer anticipating a predator's approach. He scanned their faces, and noted that both of them were shocked at the site of the chastity belts on Rini's devoted fans. And while it was pretty shocking behavior, the precise manner in which they were shocked indicated to him that they were virgins. While Damian wouldn't want to have a literal blushing virgin as one of his slaves, he was aware that they often sold for a higher price at auction. Part of that was scarcity and the difficulty of sexually training a slave without penetrating them deeply enough to end their virginity. But another part was the fact that many prospective buyers were worried that they wouldn't live up to the sexual and domination prowess of whoever they bought a slave from. Having a virgin slave meant never having to acknowledge that they weren't the best dominant to fuck their property. In Damian's opinion, if a supposed dominant relied on others to dominate their slaves, they were probably right to be worried about being second-best.

A blond woman just a few years older than he was had come to the train wearing clubwear that obviously didn't get a lot of wear. She was clearly uncomfortable in her getup, but also excited at the possibility that she might be enslaved. She was steady enough on her high-heeled shoes that he figured that she had an office job, but she was self-conscious enough in her micro-skirt that she obviously couldn't afford to go out in it very often. A less prestigious slave for the auction block, but probably a more practical one to actually own. And she would be owned, her cunt was a practical bonfire of slave-heat. Behind her obvious uncertainties and embarrassment, this woman had come to find a forever owner, not merely to get dominated for a night.

First things first, he went to the virgins. "Alright bitches," he said with a calculated indifference, "Let's see some ID." They gulped and gleeped, but despite some fumblings, they were able to show that they were both nineteen year-old high-school graduates. It was good enough. "Hinako, use your silk trap." He didn't even look up to where Hinako was clinging to the ceiling, he knew she was there.

+-+-+

By the time they were approaching the third stop, Damian had a pretty good handle on the four naked women whose arms were suspended above their heads by silk threads. Both in the sense that he had literally stripped and whipped them so he could grope them at will, and in that he had gotten a bit more of their backstory.

The virgins Irene and Grace had come because Irene wanted to be dominated, and Grace wanted to watch her friend being dominated. They'd been tied up and whipped together, so they had already seen each other being dominated. Their path to slavery was reasonably obvious, and delivering them as a slave pair with virginity intact wouldn't be that much of a challenge. They had delivered themselves into slavery almost as thoroughly as the zealots who had arrived with chastity belts and creeper pics of Rini on their phones.

Uma and Tatiana both worked white collar jobs, and both dreamed of having slave collars locked onto their necks. Uma was near the beginning of her corporate career ladder, but had already fully accepted that she had slave-pussy and even confided in one of her co-workers. Tatiana had a good paying job at a law firm, and had been living in denial about her slave-pussy, hiding it from the people in her life.

Having the four of them hanging like pieces of meat made them nicely helpless and whippable. The heights were set so that their heels were just a little bit off the floor even when their arms and legs were at full extension. Hinako had gotten very good at measuring the lengths of her sticky web. She'd cheated a bit by changing the number of times she had wrapped the cords around the women's wrists before completing her knots, but only Damian and the other Pokegirls actually noticed. Other human women on the train car looked on with fascination and jealousy.

Damian considered them. Obviously they were women he could enslave, but he didn't think any of them were submissives that he would have taken if it hadn't been for the charity auction. Grace and Irene had graduated from high school the same time he had, and if they had gone to his school they would have been two more shy submissives that were too embarrassed to ask for collaring. Not like Angelica, who had come to him and begged to be dominated. That was the kind of initiative he liked in his slaves, not the slaves who just waited to be caged.

None of them had made themselves slave smooth except Uma. Tatiana obviously hadn't expected to be stripped naked, and her black bush was untrimmed. The black pubes of Grace and brown fur of Irene had been clipped, but only back to the panty lines. There was something to be said for slaves having pubic hair, but at auction the bidders would want to see what they were bidding on. Most slave auctions kept the merchandise just out of arms reach of prospective buyers. There were some slave auctions where favored clients were allowed to grope the slaves, but somehow Damian doubted that a charity auction that didn't even have a branding station would allow things to get nearly that raucous.

He was holding Tatiana in a fuck-lock, pressing the bulge in his pants against the career woman's ass, when the train stopped again. She was mewling in submission and grinding her ass against his pants, opening herself to him even as the doors opened. More people got on, and the training areas were starting to be kind of cramped. It was fine enough for Rini, who had a school teacher's large and naked tits pressed against one of the windows while she plowed into her submissive cunt with a taming rod; but Damian had his bitches in the aisle where they were being crowded in on from every side. Trying to make lemonade from the lemons he'd been dealt, he encouraged the onlookers to grope and pinch the women he had in bondage, something that they were extremely willing to do. It was fairly simple slave-shaming, letting a train car full of submissives treat the women he was breaking as voiceless slave meat, but it was a classic technique for a reason.

While Damian was considering the most effectively humiliating way to penetrate Tatiana with his cock, he received an urgent update from Barbara. The red-haired Bat Sensei was clinging to the ceiling and watching the crowd, so when she raised the alarm with an insistent "Master!" Damian gave her his full attention. "I recognize one of the bitches getting onto the train. It's Belinda, your sister's friend."

That was genuinely terrible news. If his sister's teammate got auctioned off before the next game, Daphne's hopes of making the state championships might be completely derailed. And if Belinda exited the train without being selected, it might severely damage her self confidence, which could also ruin Daphne's volleyball dreams. He tried to pick her out in the crowd, and though he was taller than almost everyone on the train, all he could see was that some of the women near the middle doors had over-processed blond hair. Belinda was a gyaru, an adherent of the East-Asian fashion subculture that embraced bleached hair, stark tans, and eyelash extensions. It was distinct from the fashion subculture of Utah that embraced all of those things because the aesthetic was ultimately Japanese. However, from across a crowded train car, it wasn't easy to tell them apart. Nevertheless, he believed Barbara. Her eyes might be closed, but she was very good at recognizing people.

He needed to intercept his sister's friend before she did something that ruined the volleyball season. Unfortunately, the women he had bound were in a really vulnerable position, and he didn't feel like he could leave them. His Pokegirl slaves would still be with them, of course, but they were so close to slave-breaking that he really didn't want to have them out of his sight. Just thinking about the nightmare it would be if one of the bitches he was tormenting went over into slavegasm with no one around to accept their submission but Pokegirl slaves and jeering onlookers made Damian shudder involuntarily.

Even sending one of his Pokegirls over was not particularly easy. They were all strong enough to push their way through, but not necessarily able to do so without hurting people in the way. A train car with so many people in it was a hazardous area to move through. Even though most of his Pokegirls had wings, the area was far too cramped for Mallory to get off the ground, and both Barbara and Desdemona would probably hurt themselves or someone else trying to fly it. That left Beatrice, as she was the one whose flight could be represented on a piano or a trumpet as the situation required. "Beatrice, you heard her. Belinda's here. Bring her to me."

"Zzzz, Yes Master, zzzz." The Bee Warrior cleared a small space for herself and took off vertically. The ceiling wasn't high enough for her to have a lot of clearance over the crowd, and many carefully dolled up hairstyles were mussed terribly by the wing buffets of her passing. Complaints were heard, but none of them were willing to truly start shit with a Pokegirl whose butt had a genuine spike coming out of it. Belinda was lifted bodily into the air, and with somewhat more difficulty than the outbound trip the two of them returned to Damian's immediate presence. And it was indeed Belinda, wearing a black mini-skirt that looked like it was made out of a garbage bag and boots that came up to mid-calf. Her white top left her belly button uncovered and proudly displayed her cleavage and the pink straps of the bra that kept her boobs from escaping altogether. Her makeup was heavy, with the dark tan of her skin refuted only by her multi-colored eye shadow and vibrantly pink lip stick.

"Belinda?" Damian asked coldly, "Did you come here hoping to be enslaved?"

While the Filipina woman wasn't as tall and strong as Damian or even Daphne, the volleyball star was objectively on the large size as a human. Seeing her cross her arms and pout petulantly was incongruous, but that was what she was doing once she had regained her balance. "I'm old enough," she said with defiance, "You can't stop me."

He shook his head. "That's where you're wrong, Belinda. You're a sub, and if I checked your pussy right now, we both know how much slave-heat I'd find." He waited for several breaths, and he pressed on when no answer answer was forthcoming. "Don't we, Slut?"

"... yes." She replied in a small voice.

Damian uncoiled his lash of submission and frowned at her dramatically. "Yes... what, Slut?"

Her knees quavered, and Belinda's breath seemed to be coming quicker. "yes... Master Damian."

Crack! His lash of submission struck his sister's friend. She gasped and shook. Crack! Crack! "Alright Beatrice, strip this bitch." Belinda sighed as her top and bra were roughly torn from her body. It was revealed that she tanned topless enough that she did not have true tan lines, though there was a gradient of brownness that indicated that her arms and the base of her neck got perhaps a little more sun than the area around her nipples. "Hinako, bind this bitch." Belinda squealed in delight as her wrists were pulled above her head and suspended from the ceiling. Then Damian pulled out his phone and called his mom. "Mom? I need you to come to the Mu Pi dungeon... Tonight... Yeah, and bring Daphne. Belinda's in trouble... Thank you so much. I love you Mom." He put the device back in his pocket. Belinda was looking at him with eyes watery with indignation. "... What?"

"How could you?" the gyaru blubbered, "I was going to be collared!"

Damian nodded and smiled a smile that displayed a slight tinge of sadism. "Oh Belinda. You are getting collared. Tonight even." He laughed, and Desdemona laughed along with him.

+-+-+

A woman in the uniform of a transit authority employee had put up signs. They said that entering was not to be done. "I'm sorry girls, no one is getting on the train at this stop."

"But how am I going to get home?" one woman asked.

"You know the Chicken train is coming," another woman objected, "You can't stop it now! This is the best train molestation all year!"

Flanked by two Pokegirls, a woman in a party dress walked up with fury in her eyes. "I don't know who told you to start your maintenance or whatever now, but they were wrong. There is a critical train coming, and these bitches will be getting on it!"

The red-haired transit worker just laughed. "Check your scheduling app," she said cruelly, "Nobody is getting on at this stop."

Various women started checking their phones, and while there was some mysterious static on their screens, the message that the stop was canceled. The woman in the party dress started making phone calls. Before she'd gotten a straight answer, the train came into the station. Based on the number of women who were naked and pressed up against the windows or tied up in conspicuous places, that was obviously the train they were looking for. "Sorry everyone, you're just going to have to wait for the next train," the redheaded woman said, though she did not sound sorry at all. She stepped onto the train herself, and then the doors closed.

As soon as the train started moving again, everyone's phone screens experienced a little bit of static again, and then the cancellation message vanished. The trainer who was on the phone became very agitated. "Well if you didn't cancel the stop, who the hell did?!"

+-+-+

Only a single person had gotten onto the train at the last stop, which Damian found to be a relief. His sense of ease was short lived, as when his gaze fell on her he realized that he was looking at a Pokegirl. Quickly pulling out his Pokedex, he confirmed the worst: she was a feral Pokegirl. Ghost aspected. Demon. Only tenth level, but he remembered clearly when a tenth level Pokegirl would be higher level than he was. "Everybody back!" he bellowed, "that is a wild Pokegirl!"

"Fuck," the Pokegirl said, "they made me. I'm engaging, I need backup." She shimmered as if she was a mirage in the desert and was suddenly looking like someone's Halloween costume attempting to be a sexy zombie transit worker. Her teeth and claws had sharpened and elongated, while her boobs had simply grown to bimboish dimensions.

"Who are you talking to?" Damian asked, but unfortunately his question was nonverbally answered almost immediately when a horrible tearing sound came from above. The ceiling had turned red and melty and then black claws rended the metal roof of the train. It sounded like aluminum foil being chewed and it smelled like someone starting a barbecue with coals covered in cobwebs. The actual cobwebs didn't fare particularly well, and the women that Damian had so carefully arranged to be suspended from the ceiling found themselves suddenly unsupported. They well over like bowling pins that received the glancing attention from the ball. A black-scaled Pokegirl stuck her face through the hole she had made and hissed. "Oh shit, the Ceiling Lizard is watching us masturbate!" Damian exclaimed.

Even though the train was still in motion, the doors opened in the car they were in. Some kind of electronic override occurred, and they just opened, suddenly making the inside of the train car much louder and noisier. More Pokegirls came in through each of the three doors. Not as if they had stepped off a platform, but as if they had swung down from the roof of the train.

Coming in through the door nearest to Damian and Rini was a dark-skinned Pokegirl with pixelated wings. Damian recognized her as someone who worked with Evelyn Duarte, and the magnitude of how badly things were going was made clear to him. At the middle door near the twins was a small and neotenous woman with a long striped tail. At the rear door near Wednesday and Morgana was a black-furred Catgirl. Damian recognized her as well, and he cursed the fact that he hadn't had a Pokeball on him the last time they had fought. Obviously she had invested some money in making a new cat-o-nine-tails to replace the one that Barbara still had.

The non-magical women on the train were beginning to panic, and considering that there were open doors past which the city at night was rushing past at a horrendous pace - and that wasn't even the most dangerous thing going on - Damian thought that panic was probably warranted. He wasn't sure if there were more Pokegirls waiting to jump in through one of the entrances that they had allowed themselves, but the Toxic Lizard Demon wasn't content to simply watch pruriently through the ceiling hole she had made, and instead landed gracefully on the floor below.

"Thisss train isss full of bitchesss," the lithe black-scaled beauty declared, "I am Francine, and all of you will KNEEL before me!" She held out her hands, sizzling with literal firepower. But her compulsion to obedience was not merely backed by the threat of tortuous fire, but by a smog of sweet scent pheromones. It was too powerful for any of the normal human women to handle, and soon they'd pretty much all ended up writhing on the floor. It was a strong and dominating smog, and the pheromones were having some effect on the trainers and their Pokegirls as well. On some of them it was doing more than that. Against Rini, those pheromones were super effective. Blows hadn't been exchanged, and already the Lunar Witch's knees were shaking with arousal.

Damian knew that they were at a tactical disadvantage. The Scout Demon might be small, but she was practically immune to Annie and Cathy's magic. Damian had beaten that Cat Demon before, but Wednesday and Morgana were at a severe disadvantage. Rini and Damian himself were not well suited to face the three Pokegirls that had already come to prey upon them. They needed to switch things up if they didn't want to be destroyed.

+-+-+

The Queen of Black Hearts and Red Swords had sent in the first wave. As soon as the entrances were clear, she could send in the second. With the Mirror in her possession, there would never again be a shortage of shock troops.

A voice rang out from atop one of the other train cars. "Stop right there!" Hunters. And not junior hunters either. This was a fully equipped capture squad. "I'm here for love and justice, and your evil reign of terror is over. So get your pussy ready, because I'm going to punish you!"

It was the kind of threat that trainers made all the time, but a full coven of experienced Witches might actually be able to make good on it. The Demoness cursed that she had allowed the enemy hunters to get so close, but then she had sent Debby into the train for a reason. The Scout Demon's earth magic would make short work of the twin trainers. The fact that she was unavailable to spot incoming trainer teams had been a calculated risk.

The Queen of Black Hearts and Red Swords had taken quite enough risks that evening. The test had already been successful, luck did not need to be pressed. Taking the Mirror under her arm, the Succubus took to the air.

The train rumbled on without her.

+-+ End Chapter Thirty-Nine +-+