Chapter 3: Fresh Cock Eating Festival
– The Butcher’s Bargain
The factory floor was alive with the rhythm of industry—chains rattled over industrial pulleys, hydraulic presses hissed as they stamped latex stockings onto bound men, and the unmistakable wet *squelch* of latex on latex filled the cavernous space. The air smelled thickly of heated rubber, the musky scent of bound slaves, and the metallic tang of freshly spilled seed. Queen Latex-is Rubbercunt stood at the center of it all, her tall, imposing figure wrapped in a clingy, obsidian-black latex bodysuit that accentuated every fluid curve of her dominant body.
The high collar framed her sharp jawline, her platinum-blonde hair cascading over her shoulders like liquid silk, her piercing blue eyes gleaming with cold, ruthless pleasure. Around her neck, a choker of gleaming steel links snapped into a rigid leash connected to the throat of a bound slavecock—one of the many millions under her dominion. His face was crushed against her perfectly smooth shiny latex thigh-high stockings, his desperation to obey perfectly exemplified as his tongue lashed greedily across the slick rubber surface.
“Lick,” she commanded, her voice a low, throaty growl that resonated through the factory floor. “Lick my stockings clean, slaveCock. Every inch.
Every single last *fucking* inch.
Queen Latex-is Rubbercunt’s voice dropped like a blade, a slow hiss slicing through the noisy factory. The bound slavecock jolted, his neck straining against the rigid steel leash, his whole body trembling. His lips were already sealed tight to her thigh-high latex stockings, his face pressing in deep as if trying to merge himself into the slick rubber. The scent was overwhelming—hot latex, salt sweat, and the faint metallic tang of cum already soaked into the fabric.
The Queen’s thigh-high stockings were another universe of slick, unyielding rubber—obsidian gloss stretched taut over the curve of her muscle, the seams disappearing into the apex of her thighs. The slavecock could not breathe. He could only *worship*.
His tongue lashed out in frantic, lubricated strokes, tracing every inch of her thigh like a penitent tracing holy script, his lips sealed wetly to the rubber. Each swipe was met with a rhythmic squeak—the sound of latex stretching and releasing under his mouth. His own breath came in ragged, choking gasps through his nose, the steel leash biting into his throat with every swallow.
His cock, already sacrificed and converted into a thick, latex-encased stump between his legs, throbbed uselessly against the restraints strapping him to the Queen’s pole. The latex sheath covering his stump was stained with his own spent seed, the thick rubber clinging to the rawness of his just circumcised flesh.
Queen Latex-is Rubbercunt’s fingers tangled in his hair, latex-covered nails scraping against his scalp as she forced his face even harder against her shin. The rubber of her stocking glistened under the factory lights, the slick surface warm and alive with the Queen’s body heat.
The slavecock’s tongue moved faster, desperate for approval, for any sign that she found his worship pleasing. Queen Latex-is Rubbercunt watched with cold satisfaction as he licked and licked, his muffled moans vibrating against her thigh.
“That’s it,” she purred, her voice a dark, velvety whisper. “Good little slavecock. Lick my stockings mirror glossy. Latex slaveCunt, go lap up his spent cum still clinging to the rubber. It’s all the sustenance you'll get.
She tightened her grip on his hair, forcing his face deeper into the latex.
A wet *squelch* echoed through the factory as his tongue pressed harder, lapping at the rubber with frantic devotion. The parts with cum on the stocking were lapped up by a female Latex slaveCunt, her spit mixing with it, creating a slick, rubbery slurry that coated her lips before she swallow this meal.
Her painted latex lips glistened as she took his spent cum from the fabric with her mouth, before another latex girl pushed her aside and took her turn, licking at the same spot, spreading their spit on the stockings, mixing with the cum, creating a thick, glossy paste that smelled of salt and rubber. Their tongues worked in unison, tongues darting out to lick every inch of her stockings again, smearing their cum-drenched mouths all over her latex surface, making it glisten, messy, wet mess.
Queen Latex-is Rubbercunt let out a low, satisfied moan, her latex-clad thighs pressing together, the sound of squeaking rubber filling the air.
Her blue eyes burned with cruel delight as she watched her loyal Latex Girls—each in their own shiny stockings—lick and lick at her thighs, their tongues smearing her latex with their shared saliva and his spent cum. The rubber glistened under the factory lights, slick and swollen with their worship, a living, breathing testament to their devotion.
Her gloved fingers tightened in the slavecock’s hair, forcing his face harder against her shin. His muffled sobs vibrated through the latex as he struggled to breathe, his nose pressed flat against the rubber, his mouth sealed tight around her latex foot.
“That’s right, slaves,” she crooned, her voice dripping with dark amusement. “Worship it.
Worship my entire fucking leg like it’s the last cock you’ll ever taste, she said to the Latex slaveCunts.” Her voice dropped into a guttural snarl, legs spreading slightly, the latex creaking as it strained against the thick muscles of her thighs. “Now you open wide too, slaveCock. I want your mouth mirror glossing my Latex Stockings in honour of the Latex Goddesses.” She yanked his head backward by his latex restraint collar forcing his throat to arch unnaturally exposing his tonsils. She spit her long drooling saliva slowly into his mouth as an act of her dominance. “Now work your tongue down my shin, slaveCock, until you reach the latex tops of my divine Latex Stockings, and then start from the foot again.
I want you to polish this latex to perfection with your worship. And you two, Latex slaveCunts,” Queen Latex-is Rubbercunt pointed a sharp fingernail at two kneeling girls in matching glossy latex slave uniforms, “get on your latex knees and open up. I want your latex lips sealed around the slavecock’s latex-stretched stump. Don’t you dare waste a single drop of his spent seed. Suck it up like his cock is still feeding you.”
The two slaveCunts groaned in unison, their latex-clad bodies trembling with anticipation as they scooted on their latex kneepads closer to their bound prey.
Their glossy black latex uniforms hugged every curve, the material clinging tightly to their thighs and asses, the seams disappearing into the deep crevice between their plump latex-encased cheeks. Thick black latex gloves encased their hands, their fingers twitching greedily as they reached out to grip the slavecock’s cock stump.
“Open wide, bitches,” Queen Latex-is Rubbercunt commanded, her voice a venomous purr.
Her gloved fingers tangled tighter in the slavecock’s hair, forcing his face deeper against the slick obsidian rubber of her thigh-high stockings. The scent of heated latex invaded his nose, the musky perfume of her arousal thick in the air. His muffled sobs vibrated through the rubber, his breath coming in desperate gasps through his nose, the steel leash biting into his throat with every swallow.
The two kneeling slaveCunts whimpered in unison, their glossy black latex uniforms creaking as they scooted closer on their latex knees. They reached out with their black latex-clad hands, their latex-gloved fingers trembling as they gripped the slavecock’s latex-stretched cock.
The sleeve of thick rubber was tight, molded to the raw, glistening stump that had once been a proud cock—now reduced to an obedient plug, its purpose to serve. Together, they peeled the latex back in slow, torturous motion, exposing the sensitive, ragged flesh beneath. With a wet *schlick*, the rubber peeled away, leaving the stump slick with pre-cum and latex residue.
“Fuck, look at it,” one of the slaveCunts whimpered, her latex-covered lips parting in hunger. The exposed flesh was still swollen, the tip glistening with a thick bead of pre-cum that trembled before dripping down in a slow, obscene loop.
Who can chop off the most slaveCocks today? were expecting at least a thousand per day per Latex Penectomy Cunt. You get your Latex Uniform according to your achievements! The factory floor erupted in a cacophony of rubber squeaks and metallic clanks as Queen Latex-is Rubbercunt’s voice boomed through the cavernous space, her amplified words bouncing off the obsidian walls. The competing shouts of the Latex Penectomy Cunts echoed back at her—each one trying to outdo the others in their bloodthirsty enthusiasm.
"Who can chop off the most slaveCocks today? We're expecting at least a thousand per day per Latex Penectomy Cunt!" Queen Latex-is Rubbercunt's amplified voice echoed through the factory floor, her amplified words bouncing off the obsidian walls. The competing shouts of the Latex Penectomy Cunts echoed back at her—each one trying to outdo the others in their bloodthirsty enthusiasm.
Two identical Latex slaveCunts in matching blood-red rubber uniforms with glossy black thigh-high stockings stumbled forward, their latex gloves already slick with the wet remnants of their previous work. The one on the left clutched a massive chrome guillotine, its blade glinting under the harsh factory lights, while the one on the right held a serrated meat cleaver, its edge already notched from repeated use. Their blue eyes burning with competitive madness. Each Cockchopping booth has a counter above so to be accurate with scores.
"Queen Latex-is!" the guillotine-wielding slaveCunt screeched, her voice a shrill mix of excitement and desperation. "I already chopped up three thousand today! That’s more than the quota per Latex Penectomy Cunt!" She brandished the guillotine above her head, her latex-clad arms trembling with exertion.
"And I'm not stopping until I’ve topped my record!" We're expecting at least a thousand per day per Latex Penectomy Cunt. You get your Latex Uniform according to your achievements!
"And I'm not stopping until I’ve topped my record!" We're expecting at least a thousand per day per Latex Penectomy Cunt. You get your Latex Uniform according to your achievements!
“Ah, my girls,” Queen Latex-is purred, gliding closer on her stiletto heels that clicked like gunshots against the obsidian floor. “You’ve earned upgraded uniforms.
That’s the *tenth* thousand you chopped today, girl.” Queen Latex-is gestured to the guillotine-wielding slaveCunt’s corset, highly detailed high ranking latex uniform and the latex emblems embroidered into the rubber lit up in glowing neon: *Cock Chopping Cunt of the day*.
The other Latex Penectomy Cunt’s uniform had a serrated looking emblem on the chest, close to the left tit, labelled: *Cock Cleaver Cunt of the day*. All the Latex Cunts around them cheered with squeaky latex voice, clapping in their shiny synthetic gloves.
”Ten thousand slaveCocks chopped!” Queen Latex-is shrieked, her eyes rolling from side to side in sheer lust. She grabbed the guillotine-wielding Cunt by her thick latex neckline and forced her against the conveyor belt. Her latex corset creaked under the pressure. Now continue the numbers you still have time, lets check in with the other girls too!
The continous sound of the cock guillotine and the cleaver keep ripping through the thick meaty skin. The conveyor belts keep moving, their loud engines whirring as the supply will never stop arriving until the last man is turned to fine minced meat for the Latex ladies. The air is thick with the scent of blood and heated latex.
The Queen could no longer resist the dark lust burning inside her, her latex encased thighs pressing together. The shiny material creaks with every move of her thick muscled body as she removes the tight latex corset from her fully naked body, the black latex left to cling to her large tits and her latex covered hair.