Patriarchy Redemption: Valkyrie

Amarillie woke up from a drowsy slumber. She had grown tired lately, and her mouth and sinuses felt blocked with spit so much that she struggled to swallow. Wondering if she had caught some variant of Man flu on her scouting mission through the Barbarous Borderlands, she looked around her. She was laying on a peaceful white padded room, possibly a bedroom on her Sorority Chapter House. Perhaps her mission´s debriefing had gone longer than a one hour conference call, so she had gone to rest?

Besides her, was Begony, the ship´s pilot and tech expert. She was a big, growing girl, but lately, had started to slim down, so much that, if she really wanted now, she could very easily strip from her plus size clothes, but she moved and appeared as if she was on a heated fever. Perhaps they had indeed gone down with some yucky Man Flu and put on quarantine. She wished to admonish Begony for trying to diet now after having achieved for herself such a rotund feminist figure, but something stopped her.

As the leader, she was responsible for employing the female message with extreme prejudice, but in her drowsy state, she wished for somebody to order and guide her, a shameful, unwomanly wish, but one that stopped her from nagging at her comrade. The slimming girl shuffled to look at her. Her blushing face, and reddened, swollen ears mumbled something at her, begging her to rub her crotch. Amarillie, just like every single other woman in the Matriarchy, was a political lesbian, and as the Leader, should be able to fulfill her sister´s wishes, but lately, she felt herself swinging farther and farther to the other way.

To not reject outright the wishes of her sister, she rose from the padded floor with great effort, as her arms seemed to tired to obey her, instinctually looking for a male nurse to aid them, and instead found her other comrade, sitting at the corner. Gladys was the weapons expert, a proud warrior that kept the Barbarians away. in her mind´s eye, Amarilie could see her, flying into battle with an army of droned to aid her, but here she was, bound to a wheelchair,

It looked as if she was struggling to get up and "take flight" as she used to say, but everyone knew she was too much of a pussy to actually stand at the frontlines, too comfortable to just send the ship´s drones to do the dirty work, although she knew Gladys could walk, so why...

As the Leader, it was her job to help her stand from the wheelchair, and check what was wrong, but again, she felt like double guessing herself, as if she needed directions when she had been independent before. Even worse, her gut was telling her to go look for a Male Nurse, something shameful in the Sorority. Nothing made sense. She started to backtrack her steps to find out what had made her feel like this, when she finally became conscious of something in her mouth.

A big, soft and round object was lodged in her mouth, and made her drool. She could not spit it out, or push it, and when she tried to move her arms, they were stuck. Wondering what was wrong, she fully woke up, and looked down. Her arms were strapped on a straitjacket. She yelled, and her two comrades turned to her. In the sudden onset of activity, the door to her padded cell slammed open, and two men, enormous slabs of rock made in the form of patriarchs, stepped through...

Amarillie woke up, strapped to a hospital bed, and an even tighter straitjacket, as the 3d visor disengaged from her head and harmlessly fell to the ground. She laid on the other way round as a normal person would, just like everything else in these barbarous lands. Her feet were lashed to the bed supports at the front of the bed, where the pillow should be, and her head dangled in the air from the other edge, looking at the ceiling with no support. The gag was gone, but there was no use yelling for help.

Their scouting ship had never escaped the Patriarchy borderlands, those growing barbaric outposts, and they had been captured. looking at her sides, she could see what was being done to her comrades. Gladys laid on her stomach, the mind altering visor still lodged at her head, willing her to sleep. in her back, grafted wings were healing. She was to be sold as an exotic Valkyrie, a feisty trophy from the Matriarchy, even when she had never fought hand to hand in her life.

As for Begony, her feminine fat, had made her too much of a hassle to reform, so they had injected her with the dreaded Elf Plasmid. It was burning her body, as it transferred the extra bulk to her breasts, and burning her brain, as her ears grew longer. Soon she would be good for nothing more then sucking cock.

She knew full well what was her destiny. As a strong and independent leader, she was being turned into a Misogynist fanatic and preacher, an Orchid. She could feel parts of her old self slowly being shed screaming, as she no longer wept for them.

>Now that she had been woken up, she knew soon they would be moved back to the cell, to acclimatize to their new changes, but not before one final indignity for the day.

One she surprised herself on looking forward to. She was now too far gone. A female nurse strode forward to her. She wore a strapon with an excessive girth. Surely, Men, even barbarians, can´t grow that big, she thought.

"Suck, and give thanks to Patriarchy." The nurse commanded.

Without being forced to, Amarillie opened her mouth, and stuck her tongue out...

Begony was quickly turned into a pitiful Elf, an inhuman patriarchal modification that robbed women of strength, and independence, turning them into dumb, lustful creatures. She was unstrapped from her straitjacket, and given simple hospital gown clothes to wear, but locked to a different restraint, a Chastity Belt. They begged her to unstrap them, but she spent all her free time rubbing her new ears trying to achieve an orgasm ever out of reach, until she discovered a way to get her desired stimulation vicariously.

She first pounced upon Amarillie, her Elf tongue enviously sucking out climax after climax until her once adored Ship Captain could no longer resist or move from exhaustion. Then, she went to happily molest Gladys, still restrained in place on a wheelchair, customized to also hold her newly grafted wings, her teeth ripped apart her panties, before going to town. After that incident, the remaining two captives weren´t unstrapped, but a chastity belt was added to their restraints.

Amarillie suspected the orderlies knew this would happen and permitted it, to give them one last torment before being stripped cold turkey from any stimulation. Only it was an even crueler torture then a cut off from stimulation. To complement the procedure, the two of them were implanted with subdermal suggestion loops, to monitor their thoughts, while their belts edged them whenever they begun to agree with Patriarchy.

At this point, the belts were on edge almost all day. Begony had no need of such sophisticated method of control. She believed and acted upon anything told to her in the name of Man with religious fervor. Being preached at by her comrade finally broke Gladys, and once she was able to kneel upon her captors and beg for a chance to cum, was unstrapped.

The wings on her back not only sucked on extra nutrients with movement, they were also enormous aphrodisiac glands, keeping her body on heat. Once they were grafted, her fall was assured. Gladys´ entire being, down to the bone was drenched in a need to be bred, and chained by her belt.

Soon, they had her willingly parroting Patriarchal Psalms and Dogmas, dressed in white, see-through fabrics emphasizing her bountiful assets and slender waist, secured in an armbinder, and led on a leash by her Elf comrade dressed herself with the robes of a Nun, to the adoring amusement of her caretakers. As for Amarillie, she had fallen a long time ago, or so she now believed.

She had ordered her crew to strike on a foolish course, striking through Barbarian Lands, knowing full well she would be defeated and captured. All this time, she had made a show of resistance, to be punished for her sins of being a feminist witch.

Even now, she had not been given the privilege of movement back, and they kept on tinkering with her will, so her ruse still stood, but she wondered how much time she had before they shipped her over with her comrades to be sold as a 3 on 1 package. Considering they unstrapped her from the straitjacket to model Chinese dresses on her from time to time, she knew they would sell them soon.

She could not wait to meet her Master, and beg him to deny her and her new sisters orgasms for another month or more, to punish her on behalf of all rebellious womankind.

Raincoat Corp Report: Heritable FemMods Development

-Hormondrüsen Engelsflügel Project, Codename "Valkyrie"

The Imperium of Patriarchy has increased its grasp to more than its native planet, or solar system, but that does not mean it has reached all of Humanity. Some foolish and debauched rebels fled to the extreme uncharted ends of human space and entrenched themselves there. By the time the Patriarchy caught up to them, they had arranged themselves as a Matriarchy, figuring out how to reproduce among themselves with almost no males.

Subjugating them was tempting, but it was decided to wall them off as a female farm with Spartiae Agoras, and just nip at them whenever the time was right to harvest more women. The question was then, what to do with such high quality specimens of women, with no touch of male influence, and how to bend them to serve their rightful masters?

Turning them into Elves wholesale was a solution, but would ruin their exotic nature as untouched, pristine virgin lands, so they came up with the very image of purity, subverted in just the right way. Grafting big, white wings to the backs of feminine extremists, they ensured their captives were now heavier, and their energy increasingly taxed from feeding those wings, which prevented them from moving too suddenly, or brusquely.

The change on their anatomic structure also forced them to move and stand as if performing a complex ballet, teaching them to look graceful and delicate even against their will. But the wings are not mere decorations. But organs stuffed full of hormone glands, inducing their female wearer to endure an eternal mating season, and keep herself always fertile.

Worse then that, the graft modifies her reproductive organs, to make her changes stick on her future genes. From now on, all her offspring will be females, and they will also be Valkyries. Eternally baby crazy, they would crawl in the mud, and denounce all womanhood just to be impregnated by Master. This desire is not the common need to be fucked and ravished deep inside, as an Elf would feel.

For example, one could take an Elf, fuck her ass forcefully enough, slap her buttcheeks, have her clean up Master´s cock properly as a Harem Elf is taught to do, lock her back again, and she would lie down, exhausted but fulfilled for the moment, and happy to have received Master´s favor, all without ever touching her pussy.

Doing this to a Valkyrie would drive her to madness, for they are made to lust not for merely feeding their massive libidos, but specifically, for being impregnated, and birthing babies for their Master. Of course, receiving Master´s blessing is a great reward for any concubine, and a nigh-impossible merit for an unrefined female rebel.

Even reeducated, the captives chosen to become a Valkyrie will still keep some of their feisty nature, and some feelings of rivalry over the Spartiae that border their original homelands. Should both kinds of concubines live on the same harem, a Valkyrie will try to outperform her perceived rival, even if her extra wings would make such feat impossible.

To prevent such scraps from happening too often, it is recommended to flatter your little angel with gifts. Give her a clean, white and simple tunic, and buy her a pretty little halo to wear on her head, tell her she´s the prettiest of your wives, and she will stay put like a lifelike statue to be admired. Your Spartiae won´t probably care about such ornaments, and the rest of your wives know better.