Disclaimer: The following is fiction. The story’s content does not represent the writer’s beliefs, opinions, or attitudes. This story is intended for adult entertainment only. The characters and events depicted in this work are fictional. The author does not condone or promote unlawful activity as the story describes. By continuing to read this work, you acknowledge that you are an adult who wishes to read works of fantasy and fiction for the purpose only of fantasy. All the characters in this story are adults. They may play different ages for the fictional character they are depicting, but they remain at all times adults.
Feature Writer: Regis
Feature Title: ANDIE AT THE DISEMBO CLUB 9
Published: 16.11.2024
Story Codes: Young Ones, Abuse, Snuff
Synopsis: An uncompromisingly depraved fantasy — Andie was incredibly beautiful, smart, and knew how to work the system. She had a rising career in an upper-end advertising agency, worked out daily at a nearby gym, and used her well-developed sexuality to get ahead in business.
She made a great salary and used it to follow the jet-set around the world, making every weekend an adventure. She caught the attention of a very special group that called themselves the Disembo Club.
She had no idea what that meant but learned they collected and owned females, to do with them whatever they wanted, free of any restraints such as laws and morals. They had their island retreat, and Andie got to see first-hand the shocking ways in which they used their incredible collection of female stock.
Andie at the Disembo Club 9
There was a splat sound as mud-covered sweat-soaked female flesh slammed down onto mud-covered sweat-soaked female flesh. The downed blonde showed more spunk than the redhead had guessed, and flipped her over onto her back in the mud.
The blonde quickly climbed onto her, with her moist vagina splayed against the redhead’s heaving tummy. The blonde was highly stimulated by sensing her opponent’s struggle through her genitals, and holding the redhead’s hair, she began pounding her bare fist into the beautiful face.
Karen and the rest of the girls quickly forgot the nursing piglets in favor of the impromptu battle within their ranks. For some reason, tempers had been simmering just below the surface, and the change of scene and the lowered level of formality had done the trick.
Hostility had finally broken out into the open, and the whole group of young professionals was experiencing a new level of excitement with the total breakdown of decorum. These battling bitches were bringing the group to a new fevered level, and they were all fully into it.
The marvelous addictive juice was working its wonders yet again. The naked ladies had no idea what was moving them, but they all felt moved and liked the feeling. The redhead had a full matt of pubic hair, being the only untrimmed woman in the group,
She was displaying an open vagina in the center of the patch between her widepread legs. The Irish bitch was clearly in a state of arousal with the intimate contact in the flesh-to-flesh battle. She bucked her hips and heaved upward, then raised her gorgeous mud-slimed legs.
On the third attempt, she hooked her heels around the blonde’s throat, stretching her head back. She was unable to pull the blonde entirely off her but arched her back severely, and now she was able to pound her fists into the blonde’s big muddy tits.
The redhead’s enormous bosom was fully displayed by the arching of her back. These cunts were not trained fighters, but both were street-wise and had great instincts. The redhead managed to twist her hips far enough to the right that she finally slid free.
The blonde was quick to get up, and now they grappled, facing each other on their knees. At first they grasped each other’s shoulders, but they were so covered in the slick putrid mud that they were quickly locked with their arms around each other.
They pressed their bare and nearly equal breasts firmly together so that they bulged like water balloons. The combatants were in too tight quarters to get ineffective punches, but they began instead exchanging blows to each other’s genitals with their knees.
Karen was delighted to see that the two naked cunts, a pair of professional women, were doing everything possible to hurt each other seriously. This was a great impromptu sport! Given the least excuse, she would gladly join in the fight to vent her surprising level of hostility.
That was not to be, as just then, a pair of burly male farmhands stepped into the puddle and broke the two mud-smeared nudes apart. The girls were screaming insults and threats at each other, but their tone was subdued by the intervention of Mr. P. Enis.
“There will be plenty of opportunity to vent your hostilities at a more appropriate time, ladies,” he said, “But I want you to be civil with each other for now. Work at it. We would not want to have to administer any punishment, which would, as you are aware, be quite unpleasant for you.”
The girls remembered the startling video they had been shown on the last leg of their flight. Shortly after takeoff from Denver they had been invited up into the upper cabin and had come back with a new perspective and admiration for the workings of the Disembo Club.
These people played hardball, and this was the first suggestion that as guests these beautiful professional women might also be subject to the severe public discipline the Club administered on its F-class slaves. That was extremely harsh, and none wanted it.
Karen was certain they would not stop short of killing one of the slaves in a discipline session if they felt so inclined. There was nothing to stop them. The Club made the rules and were the only enforcers. No other laws applied. God, this was exciting!
666
The farm hands hosed off the two muddied naked ladies, they were sternly told this was not the time or place to settle differences, and the tour continued.
“I want you to see how food is prepared, and allow you to help out with it,” Mr P. Enis said.
They went into one of the barns. One end of the facility had holding pens, and one of these held the freshly caught pigs and piglets. More than half of the barn was used as a slaughterhouse. The large group of women was subdued momentarily and with good reason.
They had realized that the penned pigs were about to be slaughtered, that they would witness the killing, and might even be asked to take part. With a flush, Karen realized that this trip was to condition the women to what was to come.
As an entrepreneur, she had to always think ahead, consider outcomes, and prepare for any eventuality. A glance around confirmed many of the others had come to the same conclusion. She found not knowing frustrating and was surprised she felt so little self-control.
One of the fifty-pound pigs was brought out of the pen. Its hind feet were bound together by the two farmhands, a large hook was placed between its rear legs, and it was drawn up by its chain until it was tight, catching on the rope. The ladies all knew what to expect.
The wildly squealing pig was lifted by a small overhead electric winch that hoisted it so that its front feet and snout were a couple of feet off the concrete floor. A large tub was placed below the dangling animal, and one of the workers brought from the tool bench a large knife.
The instrument had a foot-long blade, long enough to do what the ladies fearfully expected. The farmhand pulled the pig’s tail straight and pretended to use it as a strop for sharpening the blade. His attempt at humor did not go over with the women, who were looking a bit pale.
“Now you can think of this as a cruel killing if you like, ladies,” Mr P. Enis explained, “And I assure you we could make it happen like that, but you might also consider that it is simply a transformation, a natural process by which an animal, raised solely for consumption, is transformed into delicious food.
“This lively creature will be bacon for your breakfast tomorrow morning. The butcher you see at the supermarket in your home city no longer does the dispatching of the animals he works with, but someone does, and then the butcher carves it into tasty cuts of meat.
“These are displayed in the refrigerated cases on trays for consumers to choose from as they shop. This is the primary transformation step, and it can be clean and painless.”
As he finished speaking, all three women gasped as the man with the knife rapidly drew it across the throat of the pig.
With a couple of rapid twists of its torso, the nearly hairless animal was suddenly calm, and quite dead. Three of the women were wretched, and two of those demonstrated projectile vomiting. Blood gushed down across the animal’s throat to the tip of its chin, and drained into the tub below it.
The flow was rapid, and surprisingly, it quickly reduced to a trickle and then stopped. That was all there was to it. The group of professional females had just been introduced to how their meals were transformed from a live animal to a hanging dead carcass in the butcher shop.
“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Mr P. Enis asked, “You see, we’ve all survived. It was only the pig that did not, and we made it quick for her because we chose to.”
The girls were surprised at the gender. They had been focused on the act that was happening and had not noticed the animal was a female.
THE END OF CHAPTER NINE