Chapter 466: Chapter 466- The Breeded Lady

He pumped twice, feeling her walls clutch and suck at him desperately, then withdrew and casually wiped his soaked fingers on her trembling hip.

"Seven out of ten. Still too loose for perfection," he said.

Clara bit her lip hard behind the blindfold, knees shaking.

He continued down the full line, inspecting each one like livestock.

Preet — Iron Flesh, compact and muscular, small firm tits with dark brown nipples. He pinched both nipples at once until she hissed through clenched teeth. "Five out of ten. Too tough. We’ll soften you up"

Nara — Beast-Touched, body still subtly mutating, tits slightly asymmetrical with puffy dark nipples. He slapped one tit hard and watched it bounce lewdly. "Unfinished product. Four out of ten. Keep changing for Master."

Meera — wide-hipped with a heavy bloated soft pregnant belly, enormous dark-tipped breasts that swayed hypnotically with every breath. He gripped both massive tits, lifted their incredible weight, then let them drop with a heavy slap. "Eight out of ten. Good breeding cow"

Frau Müller — thick, pale, and disciplined, her large white tits showing blue veins beneath the skin, nipples like delicate rose petals. He twisted one slowly, savoring her controlled moan. "Seven out of ten. So soft and fuckable."

He finally reached Marla.

The proud professor stood with her chin still raised defiantly despite everything, glasses slightly askew, her thick mature body naked and flushed pink with shame and unwanted heat. Her heavy full tits had stiff dark nipples, her stomach soft and rounded, her pussy thick with dark hair hiding the mark he’d branded on her mound.

He cupped her entire cunt possessively.

She jerked violently.

"Still sealed tight, worthless for now" he said, feeling the Hollow Collar bloodline’s emptiness under his palm. But he drove two fingers into her anyway, hard and deep, stretching her sore walls. "But always so fucking wet for me, professor. Pathetic."

Marla made a choked, broken sound deep in her throat.

"Six out of ten... until you earn more by falling deeper" he said, withdrawing and wiping his slick hand deliberately across her bare, heaving breast.

He reached the end of the line.

Turned.

"Now," he commanded. "Separate, slaves."

The womb insignias flared violently.

On the enslaved women — Preet, Celia, Nara, Gia, Marla — the marks at their mounds pulsed bright violet, visible even through pubic hair. The glow intensified like a command in their cores, and their bodies ’moved’ on their own, stepping forward mechanically like obedient marionettes, pulled helplessly into a tight, trembling cluster three meters to the left.

They stood in their new slave row, blindfolded, naked, thighs quivering as juices continued to leak.

The bonded and dominant women remained standing in their line — Veronica, Elena, Hana, Min-jung, Yuna, Clara, Sophia, Priya, Meera, Avriana, Jennifer, Kira, Frau Müller, Fatima — all leaking, all waiting.

Raven walked back to the center with powerful steps.

His cock was now fully hard, thick and dark, swaying heavily. He took a seat on the low stone bench that had appeared from the purple fold, leaned back comfortably, legs spread wide, proudly displaying his massive, veined cock.

He looked at the full line of naked, trembling women.

His eyes locked onto the one he wanted most right now.

Crimson hair glowing.

Thick, heavy, chubby body built like a perfect bitch in heat — expensive, dangerous, and made for fucking. She stood with legs slightly apart, her fat cunt glistening and visibly leaking thick strands of juices down her inner thighs, heavy tits rising and falling with deep, controlled breaths, dark nipples stiff and begging.

Veronica.

The Phoenix lineage made the air around her shimmer with warmth. Her blindfold stayed in place, but her head tilted toward him with the sharp attention of a woman who had killed her husband and son just to stand here as his whore.

"Veronica," he called, voice low and commanding.

She straightened immediately. Her massive breasts lifted with the motion, flesh bouncing heavily before settling.

"Master," she answered. Her voice stayed steady, controlled — the voice of a former CEO who now saw being a dripping cumdump as simply another boardroom to conquer.

"Have you brought the costumes and dresses I ordered you to?"

Veronica’s lips curved into a knowing, slutty smile behind the blindfold.

"Yes, Master" she said. "They are all in the east wing. Every single garment you specified. Every size. Every lewd detail perfect for turning us into the sluts you desire."

Raven leaned back further on the stone bench.

His cock stood upright against his stomach, thick and pulsing aggressively, a fat bead of pre-cum forming at the slit and slowly dripping down the shaft.

"Good girl" he praised.

He looked over all nineteen naked, dripping women standing exposed in his courtyard — the slave row pulsing with violet marks and trembling need, the other row shaking with anticipation — and a dark, satisfied smile spread across his face.

"But before you all dress up, let me tell you all about your roles from now on."

Raven moved.

His bare feet found the flagstone with the quiet weight of someone who had finished with two women and already cataloged the next. The slave row stood trembling to his left — violet marks pulsing, cunts leaking, blindfolded faces tracking his movement by sound alone. The bonded row shifted, thighs pressing together, nipples stiffening in the warm air as he passed them without stopping.

He stopped in front of Meera.

She was different from the others.

The pregnancy had reshaped her — seven months along, the swell of her belly round and heavy, pushing the loose white gown outward until the fabric strained across its curve. The gown was thin, practically transparent in places, and she had managed to work her hand ties loose at some point during the undressing, her small hands now free and pressed flat against her own hips as if trying to hold herself together.

His cock pressed against her belly button.

The hard length of it stood upright between them, thick and flushed, and the crown pressed into the soft fabric covering her navel with enough pressure to dent the swell of her stomach. Meera’s lips trembled. She breathed through her nose, short and sharp, the scent of him — sex and smoke and the mixed fluids of the women he’d already taken — filling her lungs.

"From now on," he said, "you are a Saintess. Exclusive to your Master. Raven Lustre. Is that correct?"

His hand moved.

He gripped his own cock at the base and lifted — lifting the heavy shaft, lifting the fat crown, dragging it downward from her navel across the lower curve of her pregnant belly until it sat at the gap between her thighs. The fabric of her gown was loose there. It created a space, a pocket of air and material, and his cockhead pushed into that gap, pressing against the soft cotton and the heat beneath it.

Meera’s cunt was already wet.

He could feel it through the thin gown. The heat of her, the slick gathering at her folds, making the fabric damp where it touched her. Her hand found his shoulder — the free one, the one not holding his cock — and gripped him for support as her knees threatened.

"Yes," she whispered. "I understand. But what are you doing, Raven? I..."