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It feels like a lot more because so much happened in such a short time. I got here in about September of last year, which is supposedly when the ‘new girls’ are coming in. There’s 53 of us including me and they told me that I was the first new one since like 7 or 8 years. So, there hasn’t been a ‘new girl’ for quite some time and boy, I could feel that.\n\nWhen I first got here, it was like fucking magic. The place is gigantic, like a literal castle! And even though they make us clean the entire place every other week, I don’t think I have seen all of it so far. I don’t get lost anymore though, which is nice. In the beginning it was really difficult but once you figure out the layout a little it isn’t actually that bad, even though there is so many rooms. Funnily enough, knowing which rooms you are supposed to be in isn’t actually that important, the head bitch is pretty lenient with us on that; it’s much more important to know the rooms you aren’t supposed to be in. \n\nThankfully, there isn’t that many. Some are difficult because only certain girls are allowed in or only at certain hours, like the Wolf’s office. That one is super important, you really don’t wanna mess up on the times because the head bitch will yell at you until you start crying. She is really good at that... \nGenerally, though you don’t have to deal with her that often. She makes the role calls in the morning to make sure everyone got out of bed in time and then assigns us the tasks and usually that is it. There’s a schedule board in each of the community bedrooms but they are usually incomplete or something the girls call ‘shenanigan hours’ where you don’t know what you’ll be doing.\n\nUsually, those hours turn out to be sex work and they are put in because the Wolf either has guests over or decides that he really wants a titfuck before the maidens tuck his balls into his pants and get him ready for the day. Sometimes he wants a rimjob to go with it and then you need two of us. Or three if he wants the knot done too. And because the head bitch doesn’t know when, she just puts those blank hours into the list. I been told that it sometimes results in a free break hour but I have yet to see one for myself… which I guess brings me to my little issues I have with the head bitch.\n\nShe isn’t actually called head bitch, it’s just what we call her when we are sure she is on a different floor. When I first got here, she already hated me – which is a record, according to the other girls. It’s not that I was a cunt or didn’t follow orders well, I am plain and simple young fucking meat. And no, before you get up in arms about it; I was 18 when I got here. But that’s young, still. Like really young for the shit we do here. I got my invitation letter right when I turned eighteen. Like a really fucked-up birthday present. Actually, it arrived a day before but I hadn’t checked the mailbox yet so they were clearly waiting to pull the trigger on me. I thought this was a normal thing because the Wolf has a bit of a reputation for that kinda crap. But I found out soon enough that this is super not how they do job hires for the Service Does. \n\nI was picked by the big boss himself. The Wolf wanted me on the list for a reason. I had no clue why at first… had I known, maybe I’d have seen all the red flags. But as the Wolf puts it: Deer are really good at hindsight. At first, I was kinda proud of it. He has a way with words, you know? He can make you feel like the center of the world… for a while at least. \nAfter I had my surgery done, he noted how my anatomy was already well trained for the things he has planned. Didn’t take long for me to catch onto what he meant. But for the sake of completion; I’m into inflation. Like, I [b]love[/b] inflation, I am fucking obsessed with it, alright? I been pumping my ass since I was like… okay, never mind that.\n\nPoint is, my like insides were super used to lots of air and liquid. I could legit stomach 30 liters from a faucet no problem, I got big and that had the Wolf excited. I can remember the first time I was called in to do a service like that for him. It was in his office, he had brought two huge canisters of warm milk, I am not sure how much it was but they were from the main kitchen and we only burn through like 10 of them on a good day. He was super nice – he always is to us. It’s a weird thing about him. Even when he slaps you for being stupid, he never gets loud. It’s really weird to be calmly scolded like that because you never know what he’ll do next, you are always on your hooftips. So, I am sitting on his really nice desk and he tells me to drink the milk. It was like mixed with honey so I knew exactly what he wanted out of this. We both got a bit too excited; I could feel my belly swelling up so much and the slingshot we wear as part of the uniform just felt so good against my cunt! I am leaking all over his desk and I remember feeling so bad because I leaked so much! He asks me why I stopped and I explain it to him. Man, that laugh still rings in my head today, he just found it funny! He really doesn’t like slip-ups like that though, I learned that the hard way too…\n\nBut because I am young and sorta pre-trained, I am an instant favourite of the Wolf. He has me in his office a lot and I sit under his desk, working his dick while he does work or watches porn. Still funny to me how he can have literally a fuckdoll harem and then still watches porn on another screen while typing E-Mails or messing around in Excel. Boys really are all the same. I got used to the way he likes it done rather quickly too; one hand on the knot, one fondling and deepthroat until it’s in your stomach. That’s the part I hate the most because your throat stops to feel things halfway through and then it comes back in your belly, which is like having a phantom dick poking your stomach in tandem. I am not even that good at it because when he gets to finish, he stops what he is doing and grabs my ears and pumps my throat like he is frustrated, which is a bad sign according to the other girls. \n\nUsually, you aren’t supposed to have his dick IN you when he cums because the old guy has the head pressure of a fucking fire hose. Like it hurts when that hits your insides! We are supposed to let the first shot go into our cleavage, then quickly cram it back in and take the rest. But you don’t get that luxury when he has you by the ears! So, until I got good enough to get him off on my own, I had days where I could barely eat anything due to that, my throat was stretched and every bite hurt from the moment I swallowed. It was the cruelest punishment because I love food…\n\nAnd I would have thought that with all those downsides, I’d be punished enough but oh no! Being the boss’s fave really only has downsides here. The other girls hate my guts because I get to skip work a lot and the head bitch hates me because I get attention. I got in trouble with her a lot in the beginning because I wouldn’t take her seriously. She’s like under five foot so I thought she would be used to puns about her height and tried to be witty. It’s almost funny looking back at it, just the way everyone went silent and looked at me like I had just dropped a wine bottle. \n\nI say almost because that’s when I found out just how badly you can be fucked here by someone who doesn’t have a dick.\n\nIt’s hard to describe but that look she gave me was fucking scary. Like boys can be scary, right? But it’s that look only another girl can give you when you know you fucked up. It’s like when you’re someone’s side chick and meet his girl for the first time and she can tell in a second what you did. That kinda look.\n\nNow, I didn’t think there was too much she could do at first. Our contracts are pretty solid and we have rotating schedules so she couldn’t just put me on cleaning duty for like a month. Turns out she didn’t need to. Going forward, whenever I was on cleaning duty, she would put me on the dining and ballroom in the 4th floor of the West wing and scheduled it so it coincided with the laundry crew so they occupied the wash. I had to walk to the basement every time I needed new water for the washing cart, that’s 8 staircases up and down every trip. All the girls have issues with their joints and knees as-is and that workflow just screwed me over. I had inflamed sockets for days after and it hurts really badly when you gotta kneel down or squat or bend over.\n\nThe girls in my communal room were super nice tho, they got me extra Dynastat injections they nabbed and I got over it fairly quickly and once the first month was over, things looked generally fine. Like they say, first month on the new job’s always the worst, right? Yeah no. There was a much bigger problem for me and that was privacy. It might sound odd that in a place like this you’d need privacy for anything with how openly sexualized the job is but it’s really not that easy. I don’t get off that easily when inflation isn’t involved and that makes it kinda difficult to masturbate because I push hard and that means I need equipment to do it proper. \n\nIt’s easy to sneak in a bit of action when you take a shower, usually but the communal showers don’t have hoses so I am kinda fucked on that front. It began to wear on me really quickly because when you are surrounded by sex all day, you just get horny and then can’t do anything about it. I got more desperate as the days passed and eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore.\n\nIn the end, I just didn’t have a choice and I started to sneak out of bed at night, which was a bit risky because of curfew. It starts at 10:30 every night, all week, except Friday when it’s up to midnight. Curfew means you stay in your bed, in your quarter and sleep. Now, generally, the head bitch comes to check once to make sure everyone is in their beds but as long as you don’t make a ruckus, she doesn’t care much if you get up after or are on your phone. So, it would have been no problem to get up and grab my gear and hide in the bathroom to play with myself for a bit until I was done. Except that my gear wasn’t cutting it anymore.\n\nI remember how excited I got just preparing it. I have this really long silicone log, it’s like a giant dildo but actually used for enemas. Lube that up and just kind squat down on it and relax until you feel it slide in. It’s like 50cm but it feels like nothing to me anymore, I had shits more difficult than that, lol! It connects to the pump with a little screw-on valve that I put into it and seals my ass perfectly, letting me just pump away. And the first pump damn near made me cum already. I felt so good, the air filling my insides and pushing my belly out, my stretch marks pulling tight and letting me feel the wrinkled scar tissue on my sides, it was fucking heaven. I had to try so hard not to bleat, I wanted to just let it out and enjoy it but it would have been heard by the other girls at the very least. It didn’t matter much though, I lasted maybe 3 minutes before I just came. I am pretty sure the other girls heard that one but no one said anything, so I went back to bed after, with my belly still fat even! Pretty much the best night I had spent here still.\n\nAnd for a couple days, that strat actually worked out for me. Sneak in the bathroom at night, pump a bit, then go to bed and by the time I wake up, there’s so little air left, I can just pass it with a bit of squeezing while on the shitter, no big deal! Then the complications started and it pretty much went down the drain. Remember when I talked about the stairs fucking me over? Well, turns out that using a bicycle pump like that is potentially even more harmful. It’s a bit of a sensitive topic around the job and we really aren’t supposed to talk about it, especially to people outside the place but truth is, the surgery we get to make us Service Does? It ain’t all that great.\n\nThere’s a reason for chicks going with massive implants doing it over the course of years to have your skin adjust and work your back muscles to be able to cope with it. But for us, it’s all at once. It sounds all so fucking hot when you see it the first time… bloated, massive bimbos like you’d only ever see in fetish art walking around and getting to be sexy for a job, I mean what is not to love, right? But you get to see what it looks like when it’s all healed. The photos only ever show them dolled up and ready to have pictures taken. But that’s not how it goes. When you wake up after surgery and you feel like someone stuck you in a fishnet and pulled it all around you. It hurts on every corner, like wearing a shirt that’s too small, it cuts in your armpits and pulls on your back. Except it’s your own skin, you can’t get out of it. \n\nCan you imagine what that feels like? You can feel the implants, they are like steel balls someone bolted to your chest. You can’t properly sit because your ass is the size of a beachball. It’s like sitting on a stack of pillows that’s too small for your butt. You always slump forward a little, even laying down is uncomfortable. It should take years to train for that but you don’t get that. It’s all at once. So, what do they do? Put bolts in your spine and shove a bra inside of you. And then there’s the medication. A fucking of it you get to take just so you are somewhat functional in your first week. But it doesn’t stop there either, you take inflammatory injections and go swimming so your joints don’t get fucked. You get up early to doll up, slather your tits and ass in foundation so it hides your stretch marks and scar tissue then put on oil to make them shiny. It’s all about looking presentable and nice, you know. Because that’s what you really are, a fuckdoll.\n\nOkay, I went a bit off the rails there, sorry. I just don’t get to talk about it all that much, you know? Like I said, it is a topic that does not get discussed openly. When you have a problem, you tell the head bitch and she makes sure you get what you need to either fix it for a while or at least kill the pain. If it gets really bad, the Wolf takes care of it himself but according to the other girls, that doesn’t happen often so I guess that is good?\n\nAnyway, the reason I mentioned the surgery is because, for me, it was even worse because right after, when I could feel my skin cling to me like wet clothes, I coped by just masturbating. And it was this weird mix of just pain and lust because the tight skin on my belly was exactly what I get off to. And it was so, so tight, like I had to barely apply any air at all, I immediately felt like I was about to just rip open. You can’t imagine what that felt like, it made me so goddamn horny all the time, just running my hooves over the sides got me shivers!\n\nBut it began to ware off as my skin adjusted over the weeks and that is why I got so screwed. I had to try really hard to achieve the same effect with a pump and it made it take so much longer than usual. Like I said before, the first time was really good just because I hadn’t gotten a chance to do it for so long but after? It just got less and less exciting. I took longer every time and I eventually I got so mad! I was exhausted and frustrated all the time and I still am.\n\nAnd so, the head bitch eventually caught onto what I was doing. It was on the second month, I had gotten so fed up with the pump just being too slow and me getting exhausted too quickly, I just smashed it onto the floor and cracked two tiles. It woke the other girls up and they started to yell at me, which alerted the Goat. That was a fun night, getting yelled at, told to deflate and then head to bed. Everyone was angry at me and I still hadn’t gotten off! I just didn’t know what to do anymore, I was so thirsty for a good pump.\n\nNow, the other girls kinda know about my inflation kink now. It’s like three weeks ago, I am sitting in the staff room after doing laundry and one of the Does from the communal room down the hall, I think number six, comes up to me and we start talking. She asks if she can see how big I can get and I tell her about my problem. And I was surprised to see her offer to help! So, we make a plan for me to sneak out that night and bring the pump so she can help make me huge.\n\nI was never so excited in my life, I think! It felt as intense as when I first got here but with the added thrill of trying not to get caught. Pump clutched under my arm, I manage to get out and head down the floor while shivering from the excitement! Maybe it was just the cold too. Our bedrooms are in the “Old long house” wing and it’s pretty much the most ancient of the castle. The hallways aren’t heated and it’s not much warmer than outside during winter. So, I make it there and she lets me in and oh my god, it was so great! She’s Number 16, one of the older girls and she helped me with every step. Showed me some tricks on how to squat down better and how you can slip a muzzle band over to muffle your moans! I think that was perhaps my favourite tip, because it makes it so much easier, you can let loose and just enjoy it. \n\nShe got pretty handsy with me too, worked my nips some and slipped a hoof down… I am usually not that into it when I inflate but she is good like holy shit! It was super nice, just the thrill of getting caught was always in the back of my mind but it made it better in some ways. I managed to get back into my bed undetected too and that got my confidence back a little. But I still wasn’t satisfied.\n\nI know I sound like such a needy bitch at this point! But the problem simply is that the enema plug I use isn’t really cutting it anymore. And I wish I could see your face when you read this because you actually know how big that thing is! But the diameter was just too loose by now and air kept getting out as Number 16 and I discovered when we did it again a couple days after.\n\nBack to being unsatisfied and frustrated then. I am starting to give up on getting a good pump in anytime soon again. I would just order a new plug but it’s actually really difficult to do that here. You don’t have great reception which makes no fucking sense anyway. We are in the middle of the city in a lake! But for some reason as soon as you cross the bridge, you get H+ at best and you can barely even send SMS, it fucking sucks. I am also 100% sure they are checking our mail at this point because Number 52 complained to the head bitch that her new phone she ordered, after sitting on the last one, wasn’t here despite the delivery app saying otherwise. She got yelled at by her, saying that she knows she isn’t supposed to order things online.\n\nAnyway, yesterday I got caught trying to sneak over to Number 16 again…[/i]\n\n____________________________________________________\n____________________________________________________\n\n\nThere was a moment of silence as the Wolf stopped to read. His expression was one of flummox and light frustration as he brought his thumb to his muzzle to drag it over the tip of his tongue before flipping the partially-read page over the back of the clipboard he had been handed. He repeated the motion again, then a third time, the intensity of emotions steadily I creasing.\n\n“Deer lord, how long does this go on for! This is not a letter this is a godforsaken coomer manifesto.” \n\n“Are you surprised?” the Goat tilted her head. The assistant was sitting on a lavish chair facing the massive partnerdesk behind which the Wolf was sitting as he studied the clipboard. Her legs were daintily arranged with her hands placed on her thin thighs, the heavy cushion of the hair sunk in under the considerable weight her breasts added to the otherwise unassuming and slender frame.\n\nThe Wolf’s eyes squinted to narrow slits as he listened to the rebuttal, giving the Goat a glare right before throwing the clipboard down onto the leather inlay on his desk in a dismissive fashion. He picked the half-finished Sobranie from the ashtray with pinched fingers to take a deep draw. The rush of nicotine softened his expression somewhat and he exhaled smoke through his nostrils. After a single cough shook his chest, he turned his right hand in a prompting gesture. “How did this come to your attention, Sable?”\n\nThe Goat’s expression remained a deadpan stare as she adjusted her pose, straightening her back to erase the sliver of a slump of comfort she had allowed herself and folded her hands above her groin “Number 53 has been on my watch since April. Erratic behavior, constantly seeking out personal pleasure, causing problems. Yesterday I noticed my key to the workshop missing.”\n\nThe Wolf rose a brow, and gestured the Goat to continue as his expression soured, which elicited a miniscule twitch in the corner of her mouth. Her expression remained indifferent but the Wolf’s displeasure with the situation had a notable undertone of Schadenfreude.\n\n“I found her in there at O’-two-thirty-one today. She had a car motor leakage tester shoved up her anus and used compressed air to inflate herself.”\n\n“She [b]what[/b]?” \nThe Wolf’s expression and demeanor had turned at its heels, the bitterness whisked away in favour of amusement, his mocking, bellowing laughter sounding in the large office.\n“BAHAHA! Oh, that is brilliant! She did not seem like the crafty type at all! I admire that, truth be told.”\n\nSable’s expression faltered in an instant. The hint of a smile that had developed as she tattled fell from her face like water and forewent the indifference to move straight to malice.\n“It wasn’t her idea.” \nHer voice was icy, her left eyelid twitching “It was Number 16; I am sure of it. She and the other SSDs from quarter 1 set her up, Heros.”\n\n“Is that so.” The old lupine mused, folding his hands after yet another, long draw from the black cigarette. He exhaled, clearly amused by the Goats’ jealous display “And why would they do that?” \n\n“Because she has been a nuisance for months.” Sable hissed in turn, the sinews in her fingers growing heavily accentuated as she balled her hands into fists “Her antics disrupt workflow and routine, most of the girls hate her guts. Can’t say I blame them.”\n\nHeros finished the cigarette with one final, long draw that resulted in a plume of smoke wafting across the veneer of his desk. Pulling the ashtray closer with a single claw to deposit the cigarette bud into, his expression turned to one of amusement. “[i]I[/i] think, there is something else to your actions here, Goat. Obviously, this letter cannot leave the castle, but it appears rather unusual you would bring this to my attention instead of just shredding it… unless of course you wish to get one in on what you perceive to be a rival-“\n\n“She’s been engaging with Number 16 on multiple occasions.”\n\nThe Wolf stopped in his trail and fell silent for a moment. Boiling anger swung in his voice as he slowly confirmed the Goat’s words “Homoerotic engagements?” he glared down at the desk and placed both his hands onto the desk, his fingers fanning out to support his weight as he raised his rear. His fingers scraped up and down the leather inlay, the fur on his neck standing and his ears perked as his tail twitched irate “I thought I was very clear on this.” He mumbled; his flews pulled up in a snarl. “This type of behavior is reserved for performances and [b]only[/b] performances during work hours.”\n\nHe closed his eyes for a moment. Sable loosened her posture and leaned back against the backrest of the chair, unapologetically pleased with herself and the Wolf’s reaction. When his eyes opened again, his pupils turned to catch hers and his shoulders sunk in an almost defiant gesture, as if disappointed by his following words. “See that this is resolved, Sable. Whatever the strike count is, you will consider her to be past her final one, you hear me?”\n\n“Very clear, Heros.”\nSable quickly got up, her heels clicking together and straightened her trench coat before she bent forward at the waist until her heavy breasts rested on the table top. Her right hand caressed the Wolf’s for a moment before she picked up the clipboard to clamp it under her armpit and she turned on her heels to walk out the door. Her next action would be to look for Number 53, but she was almost certain as to where she would find the Doe. A faint hint of a smirk played the corners of her muzzle and her strut sported a little bounce.\n\n________________________________________________________________________________\n________________________________________________________________________________\n[b]This illustration for this was provided by the cubic arachnid that is [url=https://www.furaffinity.net/user/spiderbox]Spiderbox[/url][/b]", "description_bbcode_parsed": "Mecklenburger Post

Absender: Damia Reiter, Lennéstraße 1, 19053 Schwerin

Empfänger: [REDACTED], [REDACTED]

Vorfrankierter Brief, Regelpost

Translated from German:

____________________________________________________
____________________________________________________

Hi Susi!

I have been at the castle for about 8 months now. It feels like a lot more because so much happened in such a short time. I got here in about September of last year, which is supposedly when the ‘new girls’ are coming in. There’s 53 of us including me and they told me that I was the first new one since like 7 or 8 years. So, there hasn’t been a ‘new girl’ for quite some time and boy, I could feel that.

When I first got here, it was like fucking magic. The place is gigantic, like a literal castle! And even though they make us clean the entire place every other week, I don’t think I have seen all of it so far. I don’t get lost anymore though, which is nice. In the beginning it was really difficult but once you figure out the layout a little it isn’t actually that bad, even though there is so many rooms. Funnily enough, knowing which rooms you are supposed to be in isn’t actually that important, the head bitch is pretty lenient with us on that; it’s much more important to know the rooms you aren’t supposed to be in.

Thankfully, there isn’t that many. Some are difficult because only certain girls are allowed in or only at certain hours, like the Wolf’s office. That one is super important, you really don’t wanna mess up on the times because the head bitch will yell at you until you start crying. She is really good at that...
Generally, though you don’t have to deal with her that often. She makes the role calls in the morning to make sure everyone got out of bed in time and then assigns us the tasks and usually that is it. There’s a schedule board in each of the community bedrooms but they are usually incomplete or something the girls call ‘shenanigan hours’ where you don’t know what you’ll be doing.

Usually, those hours turn out to be sex work and they are put in because the Wolf either has guests over or decides that he really wants a titfuck before the maidens tuck his balls into his pants and get him ready for the day. Sometimes he wants a rimjob to go with it and then you need two of us. Or three if he wants the knot done too. And because the head bitch doesn’t know when, she just puts those blank hours into the list. I been told that it sometimes results in a free break hour but I have yet to see one for myself… which I guess brings me to my little issues I have with the head bitch.

She isn’t actually called head bitch, it’s just what we call her when we are sure she is on a different floor. When I first got here, she already hated me – which is a record, according to the other girls. It’s not that I was a cunt or didn’t follow orders well, I am plain and simple young fucking meat. And no, before you get up in arms about it; I was 18 when I got here. But that’s young, still. Like really young for the shit we do here. I got my invitation letter right when I turned eighteen. Like a really fucked-up birthday present. Actually, it arrived a day before but I hadn’t checked the mailbox yet so they were clearly waiting to pull the trigger on me. I thought this was a normal thing because the Wolf has a bit of a reputation for that kinda crap. But I found out soon enough that this is super not how they do job hires for the Service Does.

I was picked by the big boss himself. The Wolf wanted me on the list for a reason. I had no clue why at first… had I known, maybe I’d have seen all the red flags. But as the Wolf puts it: Deer are really good at hindsight. At first, I was kinda proud of it. He has a way with words, you know? He can make you feel like the center of the world… for a while at least.
After I had my surgery done, he noted how my anatomy was already well trained for the things he has planned. Didn’t take long for me to catch onto what he meant. But for the sake of completion; I’m into inflation. Like, I love inflation, I am fucking obsessed with it, alright? I been pumping my ass since I was like… okay, never mind that.

Point is, my like insides were super used to lots of air and liquid. I could legit stomach 30 liters from a faucet no problem, I got big and that had the Wolf excited. I can remember the first time I was called in to do a service like that for him. It was in his office, he had brought two huge canisters of warm milk, I am not sure how much it was but they were from the main kitchen and we only burn through like 10 of them on a good day. He was super nice – he always is to us. It’s a weird thing about him. Even when he slaps you for being stupid, he never gets loud. It’s really weird to be calmly scolded like that because you never know what he’ll do next, you are always on your hooftips. So, I am sitting on his really nice desk and he tells me to drink the milk. It was like mixed with honey so I knew exactly what he wanted out of this. We both got a bit too excited; I could feel my belly swelling up so much and the slingshot we wear as part of the uniform just felt so good against my cunt! I am leaking all over his desk and I remember feeling so bad because I leaked so much! He asks me why I stopped and I explain it to him. Man, that laugh still rings in my head today, he just found it funny! He really doesn’t like slip-ups like that though, I learned that the hard way too…

But because I am young and sorta pre-trained, I am an instant favourite of the Wolf. He has me in his office a lot and I sit under his desk, working his dick while he does work or watches porn. Still funny to me how he can have literally a fuckdoll harem and then still watches porn on another screen while typing E-Mails or messing around in Excel. Boys really are all the same. I got used to the way he likes it done rather quickly too; one hand on the knot, one fondling and deepthroat until it’s in your stomach. That’s the part I hate the most because your throat stops to feel things halfway through and then it comes back in your belly, which is like having a phantom dick poking your stomach in tandem. I am not even that good at it because when he gets to finish, he stops what he is doing and grabs my ears and pumps my throat like he is frustrated, which is a bad sign according to the other girls.

Usually, you aren’t supposed to have his dick IN you when he cums because the old guy has the head pressure of a fucking fire hose. Like it hurts when that hits your insides! We are supposed to let the first shot go into our cleavage, then quickly cram it back in and take the rest. But you don’t get that luxury when he has you by the ears! So, until I got good enough to get him off on my own, I had days where I could barely eat anything due to that, my throat was stretched and every bite hurt from the moment I swallowed. It was the cruelest punishment because I love food…

And I would have thought that with all those downsides, I’d be punished enough but oh no! Being the boss’s fave really only has downsides here. The other girls hate my guts because I get to skip work a lot and the head bitch hates me because I get attention. I got in trouble with her a lot in the beginning because I wouldn’t take her seriously. She’s like under five foot so I thought she would be used to puns about her height and tried to be witty. It’s almost funny looking back at it, just the way everyone went silent and looked at me like I had just dropped a wine bottle.

I say almost because that’s when I found out just how badly you can be fucked here by someone who doesn’t have a dick.

It’s hard to describe but that look she gave me was fucking scary. Like boys can be scary, right? But it’s that look only another girl can give you when you know you fucked up. It’s like when you’re someone’s side chick and meet his girl for the first time and she can tell in a second what you did. That kinda look.

Now, I didn’t think there was too much she could do at first. Our contracts are pretty solid and we have rotating schedules so she couldn’t just put me on cleaning duty for like a month. Turns out she didn’t need to. Going forward, whenever I was on cleaning duty, she would put me on the dining and ballroom in the 4th floor of the West wing and scheduled it so it coincided with the laundry crew so they occupied the wash. I had to walk to the basement every time I needed new water for the washing cart, that’s 8 staircases up and down every trip. All the girls have issues with their joints and knees as-is and that workflow just screwed me over. I had inflamed sockets for days after and it hurts really badly when you gotta kneel down or squat or bend over.

The girls in my communal room were super nice tho, they got me extra Dynastat injections they nabbed and I got over it fairly quickly and once the first month was over, things looked generally fine. Like they say, first month on the new job’s always the worst, right? Yeah no. There was a much bigger problem for me and that was privacy. It might sound odd that in a place like this you’d need privacy for anything with how openly sexualized the job is but it’s really not that easy. I don’t get off that easily when inflation isn’t involved and that makes it kinda difficult to masturbate because I push hard and that means I need equipment to do it proper.

It’s easy to sneak in a bit of action when you take a shower, usually but the communal showers don’t have hoses so I am kinda fucked on that front. It began to wear on me really quickly because when you are surrounded by sex all day, you just get horny and then can’t do anything about it. I got more desperate as the days passed and eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore.

In the end, I just didn’t have a choice and I started to sneak out of bed at night, which was a bit risky because of curfew. It starts at 10:30 every night, all week, except Friday when it’s up to midnight. Curfew means you stay in your bed, in your quarter and sleep. Now, generally, the head bitch comes to check once to make sure everyone is in their beds but as long as you don’t make a ruckus, she doesn’t care much if you get up after or are on your phone. So, it would have been no problem to get up and grab my gear and hide in the bathroom to play with myself for a bit until I was done. Except that my gear wasn’t cutting it anymore.

I remember how excited I got just preparing it. I have this really long silicone log, it’s like a giant dildo but actually used for enemas. Lube that up and just kind squat down on it and relax until you feel it slide in. It’s like 50cm but it feels like nothing to me anymore, I had shits more difficult than that, lol! It connects to the pump with a little screw-on valve that I put into it and seals my ass perfectly, letting me just pump away. And the first pump damn near made me cum already. I felt so good, the air filling my insides and pushing my belly out, my stretch marks pulling tight and letting me feel the wrinkled scar tissue on my sides, it was fucking heaven. I had to try so hard not to bleat, I wanted to just let it out and enjoy it but it would have been heard by the other girls at the very least. It didn’t matter much though, I lasted maybe 3 minutes before I just came. I am pretty sure the other girls heard that one but no one said anything, so I went back to bed after, with my belly still fat even! Pretty much the best night I had spent here still.

And for a couple days, that strat actually worked out for me. Sneak in the bathroom at night, pump a bit, then go to bed and by the time I wake up, there’s so little air left, I can just pass it with a bit of squeezing while on the shitter, no big deal! Then the complications started and it pretty much went down the drain. Remember when I talked about the stairs fucking me over? Well, turns out that using a bicycle pump like that is potentially even more harmful. It’s a bit of a sensitive topic around the job and we really aren’t supposed to talk about it, especially to people outside the place but truth is, the surgery we get to make us Service Does? It ain’t all that great.

There’s a reason for chicks going with massive implants doing it over the course of years to have your skin adjust and work your back muscles to be able to cope with it. But for us, it’s all at once. It sounds all so fucking hot when you see it the first time… bloated, massive bimbos like you’d only ever see in fetish art walking around and getting to be sexy for a job, I mean what is not to love, right? But you get to see what it looks like when it’s all healed. The photos only ever show them dolled up and ready to have pictures taken. But that’s not how it goes. When you wake up after surgery and you feel like someone stuck you in a fishnet and pulled it all around you. It hurts on every corner, like wearing a shirt that’s too small, it cuts in your armpits and pulls on your back. Except it’s your own skin, you can’t get out of it.

Can you imagine what that feels like? You can feel the implants, they are like steel balls someone bolted to your chest. You can’t properly sit because your ass is the size of a beachball. It’s like sitting on a stack of pillows that’s too small for your butt. You always slump forward a little, even laying down is uncomfortable. It should take years to train for that but you don’t get that. It’s all at once. So, what do they do? Put bolts in your spine and shove a bra inside of you. And then there’s the medication. A fucking of it you get to take just so you are somewhat functional in your first week. But it doesn’t stop there either, you take inflammatory injections and go swimming so your joints don’t get fucked. You get up early to doll up, slather your tits and ass in foundation so it hides your stretch marks and scar tissue then put on oil to make them shiny. It’s all about looking presentable and nice, you know. Because that’s what you really are, a fuckdoll.

Okay, I went a bit off the rails there, sorry. I just don’t get to talk about it all that much, you know? Like I said, it is a topic that does not get discussed openly. When you have a problem, you tell the head bitch and she makes sure you get what you need to either fix it for a while or at least kill the pain. If it gets really bad, the Wolf takes care of it himself but according to the other girls, that doesn’t happen often so I guess that is good?

Anyway, the reason I mentioned the surgery is because, for me, it was even worse because right after, when I could feel my skin cling to me like wet clothes, I coped by just masturbating. And it was this weird mix of just pain and lust because the tight skin on my belly was exactly what I get off to. And it was so, so tight, like I had to barely apply any air at all, I immediately felt like I was about to just rip open. You can’t imagine what that felt like, it made me so goddamn horny all the time, just running my hooves over the sides got me shivers!

But it began to ware off as my skin adjusted over the weeks and that is why I got so screwed. I had to try really hard to achieve the same effect with a pump and it made it take so much longer than usual. Like I said before, the first time was really good just because I hadn’t gotten a chance to do it for so long but after? It just got less and less exciting. I took longer every time and I eventually I got so mad! I was exhausted and frustrated all the time and I still am.

And so, the head bitch eventually caught onto what I was doing. It was on the second month, I had gotten so fed up with the pump just being too slow and me getting exhausted too quickly, I just smashed it onto the floor and cracked two tiles. It woke the other girls up and they started to yell at me, which alerted the Goat. That was a fun night, getting yelled at, told to deflate and then head to bed. Everyone was angry at me and I still hadn’t gotten off! I just didn’t know what to do anymore, I was so thirsty for a good pump.

Now, the other girls kinda know about my inflation kink now. It’s like three weeks ago, I am sitting in the staff room after doing laundry and one of the Does from the communal room down the hall, I think number six, comes up to me and we start talking. She asks if she can see how big I can get and I tell her about my problem. And I was surprised to see her offer to help! So, we make a plan for me to sneak out that night and bring the pump so she can help make me huge.

I was never so excited in my life, I think! It felt as intense as when I first got here but with the added thrill of trying not to get caught. Pump clutched under my arm, I manage to get out and head down the floor while shivering from the excitement! Maybe it was just the cold too. Our bedrooms are in the “Old long house” wing and it’s pretty much the most ancient of the castle. The hallways aren’t heated and it’s not much warmer than outside during winter. So, I make it there and she lets me in and oh my god, it was so great! She’s Number 16, one of the older girls and she helped me with every step. Showed me some tricks on how to squat down better and how you can slip a muzzle band over to muffle your moans! I think that was perhaps my favourite tip, because it makes it so much easier, you can let loose and just enjoy it.

She got pretty handsy with me too, worked my nips some and slipped a hoof down… I am usually not that into it when I inflate but she is good like holy shit! It was super nice, just the thrill of getting caught was always in the back of my mind but it made it better in some ways. I managed to get back into my bed undetected too and that got my confidence back a little. But I still wasn’t satisfied.

I know I sound like such a needy bitch at this point! But the problem simply is that the enema plug I use isn’t really cutting it anymore. And I wish I could see your face when you read this because you actually know how big that thing is! But the diameter was just too loose by now and air kept getting out as Number 16 and I discovered when we did it again a couple days after.

Back to being unsatisfied and frustrated then. I am starting to give up on getting a good pump in anytime soon again. I would just order a new plug but it’s actually really difficult to do that here. You don’t have great reception which makes no fucking sense anyway. We are in the middle of the city in a lake! But for some reason as soon as you cross the bridge, you get H+ at best and you can barely even send SMS, it fucking sucks. I am also 100% sure they are checking our mail at this point because Number 52 complained to the head bitch that her new phone she ordered, after sitting on the last one, wasn’t here despite the delivery app saying otherwise. She got yelled at by her, saying that she knows she isn’t supposed to order things online.

Anyway, yesterday I got caught trying to sneak over to Number 16 again…

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There was a moment of silence as the Wolf stopped to read. His expression was one of flummox and light frustration as he brought his thumb to his muzzle to drag it over the tip of his tongue before flipping the partially-read page over the back of the clipboard he had been handed. He repeated the motion again, then a third time, the intensity of emotions steadily I creasing.

“Deer lord, how long does this go on for! This is not a letter this is a godforsaken coomer manifesto.”

“Are you surprised?” the Goat tilted her head. The assistant was sitting on a lavish chair facing the massive partnerdesk behind which the Wolf was sitting as he studied the clipboard. Her legs were daintily arranged with her hands placed on her thin thighs, the heavy cushion of the hair sunk in under the considerable weight her breasts added to the otherwise unassuming and slender frame.

The Wolf’s eyes squinted to narrow slits as he listened to the rebuttal, giving the Goat a glare right before throwing the clipboard down onto the leather inlay on his desk in a dismissive fashion. He picked the half-finished Sobranie from the ashtray with pinched fingers to take a deep draw. The rush of nicotine softened his expression somewhat and he exhaled smoke through his nostrils. After a single cough shook his chest, he turned his right hand in a prompting gesture. “How did this come to your attention, Sable?”

The Goat’s expression remained a deadpan stare as she adjusted her pose, straightening her back to erase the sliver of a slump of comfort she had allowed herself and folded her hands above her groin “Number 53 has been on my watch since April. Erratic behavior, constantly seeking out personal pleasure, causing problems. Yesterday I noticed my key to the workshop missing.”

The Wolf rose a brow, and gestured the Goat to continue as his expression soured, which elicited a miniscule twitch in the corner of her mouth. Her expression remained indifferent but the Wolf’s displeasure with the situation had a notable undertone of Schadenfreude.

“I found her in there at O’-two-thirty-one today. She had a car motor leakage tester shoved up her anus and used compressed air to inflate herself.”

“She what?”
The Wolf’s expression and demeanor had turned at its heels, the bitterness whisked away in favour of amusement, his mocking, bellowing laughter sounding in the large office.
“BAHAHA! Oh, that is brilliant! She did not seem like the crafty type at all! I admire that, truth be told.”

Sable’s expression faltered in an instant. The hint of a smile that had developed as she tattled fell from her face like water and forewent the indifference to move straight to malice.
“It wasn’t her idea.”
Her voice was icy, her left eyelid twitching “It was Number 16; I am sure of it. She and the other SSDs from quarter 1 set her up, Heros.”

“Is that so.” The old lupine mused, folding his hands after yet another, long draw from the black cigarette. He exhaled, clearly amused by the Goats’ jealous display “And why would they do that?”

“Because she has been a nuisance for months.” Sable hissed in turn, the sinews in her fingers growing heavily accentuated as she balled her hands into fists “Her antics disrupt workflow and routine, most of the girls hate her guts. Can’t say I blame them.”

Heros finished the cigarette with one final, long draw that resulted in a plume of smoke wafting across the veneer of his desk. Pulling the ashtray closer with a single claw to deposit the cigarette bud into, his expression turned to one of amusement. “I think, there is something else to your actions here, Goat. Obviously, this letter cannot leave the castle, but it appears rather unusual you would bring this to my attention instead of just shredding it… unless of course you wish to get one in on what you perceive to be a rival-“

“She’s been engaging with Number 16 on multiple occasions.”

The Wolf stopped in his trail and fell silent for a moment. Boiling anger swung in his voice as he slowly confirmed the Goat’s words “Homoerotic engagements?” he glared down at the desk and placed both his hands onto the desk, his fingers fanning out to support his weight as he raised his rear. His fingers scraped up and down the leather inlay, the fur on his neck standing and his ears perked as his tail twitched irate “I thought I was very clear on this.” He mumbled; his flews pulled up in a snarl. “This type of behavior is reserved for performances and only performances during work hours.”

He closed his eyes for a moment. Sable loosened her posture and leaned back against the backrest of the chair, unapologetically pleased with herself and the Wolf’s reaction. When his eyes opened again, his pupils turned to catch hers and his shoulders sunk in an almost defiant gesture, as if disappointed by his following words. “See that this is resolved, Sable. Whatever the strike count is, you will consider her to be past her final one, you hear me?”

“Very clear, Heros.”
Sable quickly got up, her heels clicking together and straightened her trench coat before she bent forward at the waist until her heavy breasts rested on the table top. Her right hand caressed the Wolf’s for a moment before she picked up the clipboard to clamp it under her armpit and she turned on her heels to walk out the door. Her next action would be to look for Number 53, but she was almost certain as to where she would find the Doe. A faint hint of a smirk played the corners of her muzzle and her strut sported a little bounce.

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