Lachlan lined the three feminists up in Sarah’s cabin on the first night after she had been brought to the departmental retreat.

 

On the left, blonde, petite, and barely 18, was Kelly, a popular feminist influencer on social media.

 

In the middle, a very buxom brunette in her mid 30s - Georgette, a feminist academic.

 

And on the right, the blue-haired lesbian that Lachlan had watched Sarah rape - Cybele, a university student and co-organiser of the university’s feminist collective, who had been protesting against the significantly more pro-male direction her collective had taken after Lachlan and the Minister had (unbeknownst to Cybele) put her fellow co-organiser through the Securo-System.

 

“Your task is very simple, Kitten,” said Lachlan.  “By the end of the week, you have to get each of these bitches to enter a simple agreement.  The terms of the agreement are these.”

 

He smiled.

 

“One, they will choose to contact a member of the local university men’s rights association.  They are all aware of this group.  They have argued with it online. They have made posts wishing its members would die or be castrated or both.  They will contact this member, and they will ask them to come here to breed them - that is to say, to fuck them unprotected, in a violent manner, with the aim of impregnating them.  And they will then marry this man, if he wants to marry them, and promise to be a stay-at-home domestic wife, and let him control their finances, and never wear clothes without his permission.”

 

“Two, they will dye their hair blonde and book themselves for breast enhancement surgery, at their own cost, with the aim of getting tits that are visibly fake and at least a G-cup.  They will have all hair below the neck laser-removed from their body and they will get a tattoo above their pussy indicating they consent to rape.”

 

“Three, they will return all their educational qualifications to the institutions that issued them and ask to have them revoked.  They will confess to cheating and fucking teachers to obtain them.”

 

“Fourth, they will record a video confession in which they state that they only expressed their feminist beliefs in the hope of making men angry enough to rape them, because rape is what all women secretly desire.”

 

“Fifth, they will provide you a photo or secret about another woman they know which is embarrassing enough to allow that woman to be blackmailed into sexual abuse.”

 

“Can you make that happen, Kitten?”

 

Lachlan honestly didn’t care whether Sarah succeeded.  What was important was the process.  

 

In fact, he had told each of the feminists that this was a particularly cruel reality show - an illegal one, of course, but nevertheless one that would pay them a million dollars if they made it to the end of the week without submitting to Sarah.

 

Whether Sarah won, or the feminists did, it simply didn’t matter.  The feminists would go into the Securo-System when this was done anyway, and be given new misogynist beliefs that would lead them to do all the things that Lachlan had just specified anyway.

 

What he wanted to see was Sarah - the once-proud executive Sarah, the feminist Sarah, the Sarah who had believed in the dignity and worth of women - torturing and sexually abusing feminists in an attempt to turn them into enslaved domestic bimbos.

 

And Sarah gave him exactly what she wanted.

 

She didn’t sleep during the nights, because she couldn’t bring herself to rest when she still hadn’t completed Lachlan’s goal.  Instead, she managed to efficiently doze off during some of her gang-rapes during the day, snoozing as men simultaneously fucked her pussy and ass, suckling instinctively and unconsciously on any cocks that were pushed into her mouth.

 

During the nights, she berated her three feminist prisoners.  She called them names.  She insulted their intelligence and called them sluts and whores.  She slapped their faces, and beat their tits, and spanked their pussies, until they cried, and then she laughed at them crying.

 

She raped them, rubbing her cunt against their faces, or forcing them to suck on her tits.  Sometimes she would kiss them, forcing her tongue into their mouths and trying to make them gag on it.  She spat on them, and pissed on their faces.  Lachlan brought her a double-ended dildo, and she used that on their cunts and asses and mouths, fucking one end into one of her holes and the other into her victim.

 

She didn’t let them sleep.  When she left them in cages during the day she left loud music playing and bright lights flashing and a vibrator in every girl’s cunt.  She gave them water, but denied them any food but Lachlan’s cum - which they began to eagerly suck for after the third night.  

 

She told them that they were whores - because they were women.  That they were animals - because they were women.  That they deserved rape - because they were women.  

 

Lachlan cautiously gave her a stun gun on the third night, and Sarah immediately used it on each of their cunts, discharging electricity into their precious private areas and telling them that she would do it to them hourly until they were able to cum from masturbating while chanting “I deserve rape”.

 

By the fifth night, Sarah was getting very intense about abusing her captives.  She would rape hump each of their faces twice every night, and slap their cunts until they were bucking in pain.  Always she would ask them to submit to Lachlan, and always they would refuse, and this would infuriate Sarah.

 

At the end of that fifth night, Lachlan had a revelation.  To Sarah, this was no longer just about her hypnotically-induced love for him.  It was personal.

 

Because Sarah had broken.  Sarah had become a gender traitor.  Sarah had surrendered everything and become a misogynist rapist bimbo who grovelled at Lachlan’s feet.

 

If she could break these feminists too then - well, it was because they were women.  Women were weak - all women.  And that was embarrassing, but it wasn’t anything that Sarah had control over.

 

But if these women managed to defy her, and refuse to submit, despite all this abuse, then it was only Sarah who was weak.  It would mean that Sarah had chosen to let this happen to her, when she could have instead resisted.  It would mean it was her *fault* she was a fake-titted rapetoy bimbo.  She wouldn’t deserve it because she was a woman - she would deserve it because she was *Sarah*.

 

And that was so much worse.

 

Lachlan was fascinated to see how this played out.

 

At the start of the sixth night, Kelly broke.  Lachlan was busily raping her cunt, and whispering to her how pretty she’d look with a big pregnant belly - a little free help for Sarah’s cause - when Sarah approached with a leather belt in her hands.

 

“We’re going to use this on your cunt today, Kelly,” said Sarah.  “I’m going to whip you with it three times, and then you’re going to masturbate for five minutes while watching rape porn, and then I’ll whip you again, and so on until you’re able to cum from rape porn.  Won’t that be fun, Kelly?”

 

It was too much for Kelly.  Her whole body contorted with fear, and the remembered pain of previous cunt-whippings - and then suddenly she was orgasming against Lachlan’s cock.  And if the fear of the whipping hadn’t been enough to break her, then the realisation that she was so confused and fucked-up that she would orgasm while being raped from thinking about having her twat whipped was enough to push her over the edge.

 

“Stop!” she wailed.  “Please stop!  I’ll do it!”

 

And so - when Lachlan was done cumming in her - they watched her contact a man that she knew online only as “Cuntbreaker_Zeus”, and send him nude photos and ask him if he wanted to marry her and breed her and keep her as his domestic slave.

 

Then they led Kelly through the process of making enquiries for breast surgery, a dye job, and laser hair removal, and afterwards she began writing emails to her university to tell them that she should be expelled on account of being a dumb slut who was sleeping with her professors.

 

And by the time she had done that, “Cuntbreaker_Zeus” had emailed back to say that yes, he very much would like to own her as a domestic breeder, and he was glad she had finally realised what a pointless cunt she truly was.

 

Zeus, whose name turned out to be Steve, turned up at the resort a little after midnight to begin breeding his broken little wifey.  She cried as his dick went into her, but Lachlan and Sarah both noticed that she was inexplicably wet.

 

Steve obviously had questions about what had happened, and Lachlan was happy to answer them.  When Steve learned that there were still two unbroken feminists in the resort, he made an offer to his new slave wife.

 

“Hey, cunt,” he said.  “I’ll make you a deal.  If you can get one of your fellow bitches to break before dawn, I’ll let you wear clothes to our wedding.  You’re going to crawl down the aisle in front of your friends and family and swear to worship my cock either way, but if you’re a good little gender traitor I’ll let you cover your tits and pussy for it.”

 

Kelly immediately took the deal - and she barely had to do anything to break Georgia.

 

“I’m sorry, Georgia,” she said.  “But you need to surrender - or else I’ll share the thing about the court case I discovered.  I know I told you when I found it I’d never tell anyone, but… I never thought I’d be here.”

 

“Please don’t,” begged Georgia.

 

“Either you can surrender now,” said Kelly, “or I can tell them to tie ropes around the base of your tits and drag you behind a motorboat out in the water until you surrender.  You’re going to surrender either way, so just accept it.”

 

And so Georgia surrendered.  They started her on booking her boobjob and revoking her academic qualifications first.

 

But as she did so, Steve said to Kelly, “I’ll make you another deal.  Tell us that thing that Georgia didn’t want us to know, and I won’t put you in a debarking collar that will train you out of being able to speak.”

 

Alarmed, Kelly capitulated almost instantly.

 

“When she was 18, she told police that her stepfather sexually assaulted her,” she said.  “There was a trial, and he went to jail.  But I dug up information for my influencer channel that showed that she lied, because he was going to make the family move interstate for his job, and Georgia didn’t want to move.”

 

Steve and Lachlan laughed themselves silly at this.  Georgia went pale and begged them not to tell anyone.

 

Lachlan could see the problem.  A prominent feminist being revealed as a rape liar?  It would discredit all feminists, and all actual victims of rape.  The public generally would be more likely to believe that any woman claiming to be raped was doing so for personal gain.

 

He wasn’t quite sure what to do with it.  He supposed that releasing the information would be good for the Minister’s plan - but it would also be redundant, with what the Minister had planned anyway.  Georgia didn’t know it yet, but there would be very few successful rape prosecutions in the future regardless of her secret.

 

But Steve had gotten on the internet on his phone and discovered something very interesting.

 

“Hey, Georgia,” he said.  “Did you know your stepfather got out of jail two months ago?”

 

Georgia went even paler.

 

Lachlan laughed.

 

“Well, Georgia,” he said, “I think there’s a very clear way to apologise for destroying his life.  If you can convince your stepfather to marry you and breed you - well, in that case we can keep your little secret.”

 

As it turned out, Lachlan was very glad he was taping everything, because the quiet, pathetic conversation Georgia subsequently had on the phone, where she talked to an older man who she had sent to jail and begged him to keep her as his babymaking domestic whore-wife was one of the hottest things he had ever heard.  When he heard her call her stepfather “daddy” in a broken, seductive voice, he almost came in his pants.

 

And that left Cybele, the blue-haired lesbian.

 

And Cybele didn’t break.

 

She didn’t break on the sixth night.

 

And - despite the fact she was delirious from hunger and lack of sleep, despite the fact she had been raped by Lachlan and Sarah over twenty times in seven days, despite the fact that Sarah had trained her to cum from having a stun gun fired into her cunt - Cybele didn’t break on the seventh night either.

 

When dawn came, and Sarah realised that Cybele had resisted her - had managed to choose not to betray her gender - she broke into inconsolable weeping.

 

Lachlan was impressed.  He hadn’t really thought that Cybele would hold out.  He decided that he wasn’t going to send her to the Securo-System.  While it would be funny to render her resistance completely pointless, he thought he owed it to Sarah to honour Cybele’s willpower.  He would leave her mind intact - and instead arrange for her to be sold to a certain ultra-rich collector in the Middle East who took a particular pleasure in breaking lesbians and retraining them as straight girls.  The collector would welcome this challenge.

 

And as for Sarah…

 

“I want to surrender them,” she said,  “The last two things.  My opinions and my willpower.  I don’t deserve to have them.  This is my fault.  And I failed you - I failed you, when I love you so much.  Please let me surrender them.  Please…”

 

It was over for Sarah.  Her long road had reached its end.

 

All that remained now was to decide where she fitted, in the brave new world she had wrought.

 

(TO BE CONCLUDED)