Collaring the Worthy News: In this chapter, _.
Collaring the Worthy
This chapter _.
Collaring the Worthy
As more and more began to be found worthy of guest-hood in Inisfree, they were summoned forth, some of them coming of their own accord, volunteering to come out of hiding and present themselves at the great gates of the city, others being properly manhandled forth by their men. Men were at last men again, the disgusting 'women' of the Outlands no longer in charge. There was balance and nature again in the world, and this was the next step of that long-awaited and overdue breakthrough and societal leap forward.
The nobodies were brought forth first, being the most easily found out and taken, their families having no wealth or mindsets to keep them. Then came the cheerleaders, brought forth just as roughly, many of them beaten much more than the nobodies, for their families tended to be upper middle class or wealthy, thus resisting at least a little bit, though still, of course, rather laughably compared to the might of the new empire of real men, led by none other than Earth's Ubar of Ubars, the Governor of Inisfree, himself.
After the cheerleaders came the models, then the supermodels, then the porn stars, then the actual princesses; daughters of Earth's royalty before the major power shift of 2013. After them, some of their mothers were brought forward; the actual queens of those who had once held power before the rise of endless Inisfree. Each wave of these successively wealthier, more privileged, sexier human females were manhandled, whipped, and beaten more rudely (rude being a GOOD thing in this case) than the last; each was being taught, proportionally to their futile resistance, how to heel and otherwise obey. Each was taught what it means to be a real girl and a real woman; actually feminine, no longer the disgusting, warped, Outlander bastardization of such terms and concepts.
One by one, all of these girls, the princesses and queens included, were collared, branded, and left nude in the girl pens of Inisfree; the prison cell-like cages for human females many stories beneath the Inisfreean surface, which, collectively, are called either The Receiving Facility... or... The Subterranean Prison. In Inisfree, one should note, it is only the sexiest females who are jailed, and jailed on a regular basis as part of their rehabilitation and lifestyles corrected to be healthy based on their sex (the nature of their gender).
Even the new kings of the Outlands; those 39 appointed Black Ops warriors and leaders of warriors, brought their top wives forward for the same collaring, branding, and imprisonment, for a time, beneath the terrain of great Inisfree, the new capital of the world. Thrown stumbling down onto their bellies at the Governor's feet, these women, some shuddering, some sobbing, submitted themselves, all of them, even if they had yet to realize it, on a core level, and throughout every fiber and molecule of their being, loving this unbelievable surprise. They would be returned to their men, those 39 kings, once they had been put through this Inisfreean version of prep and boarding school.
Then, to the astonishment of them all, the finest elven girls, some of them actual ladies; owners of vast lands and other wealth, came forward, presenting themselves, submitting to the Governor in the Gorean fashion; kneeling, nude, with their knees wide open, their pussies fully revealed, their arms up, heads down, eyes averted, wrists crossed, ready, waiting, and eager for the lash of binding fiber which would be used to secure them until their collars and brands were applied. There were supermodels among the elven races, and princesses and queens. They were startlingly beautiful, graceful, and desirable. All who beheld them gawked in wonder and arousal, unable to hide such instinctive reactions at all. Knowing themselves watched, beheld, and regarded thusly, these elven girls blushed and smirked, their pussies moistening rapidly.
Then, to the further of astonishment of this multitude, and even to the astonishment of the elven girls now with it, came a great host of actual goddesses and demi-goddesses, moving in a long procession which included many hundreds of their sexiest nymphs, and all these, too, presented themselves, and submitted themselves, to the Governor, King of Inisfree. They politely, and in the sexiest of female voices, informed him, that great king of all kings, that there were others out there whom, they knew, would submit just as well... provided, of course, that he go out and overpower them, raping them in their homes. These women and girls, ancient and immortal, deified by mankind in generations and empires past, had longed for such a man as would replace and best even Zeus and the Other real-men gods who had once thrilled them with such dominance and control. Already in their hearts, it was further reported to him, these goddesses had submitted to him, nearly losing their minds with impatience at the thought of how long it might take him to process (enslave) all these other females now before him, finally having time to get out to, and enslave, Them. Their hearts all beat for it. They were already one with him. Such was the Inisfreean effect. Such was the Inisfreean Way.
Finally, strutting up and taking her place beside the collared and branded Freyja, the top wife of the Governor, too, came forward, presenting and submitting herself as all the other girls had, knowing herself one with him, and knowing this to be her truest freedom --even more than when he had freed her to enjoy all the sex of her wildest dreams. As he had collared and branded all the others, so, too, was She, his high queen, queen of Inisfree, collared and branded. And though a vampire; though her brand, in time, might completely heal and vanish, it would remain in her heart and mind forever --right where she Wanted and Needed it to be. Though a sexually free woman, she was still a female, and all females need a real man to belong to; to control them; to make them feel so lust-worthy that they will be captured and captured again for so long as they shall live -as beauties.
Moved in a single mass of block formations, all of these females now collared, branded, and chained together by their necks, all of their wrists lashed together behind their backs, all of them now on the same social level, were herded through the tunnels of Inisfree... all the way to their new temporary home and school; Inisfree's Prison; its 'Receiving Facility'. Over the months of their training; their re-educating, others, such as those the goddesses had made the Governor aware of, joined them in those many thousands of cages and radial rooms clustered together beneath the military side of Inisfree. Then, as they began to graduate this gender segregation and sexuality rehabilitation and mastery training program the Governor had perfected, successive waves of the same types of females, though now from hundreds of thousands of worlds across the known Megaverse (every Universe of every dimension), would come and be submitted here all the same. In time, every sexy human and humanoid female across reality would be brought, educated, and perfected here, some being returned to the men who brought or shipped them, all of them, no matter where they ended up, always knowing that their highest master was the Governor who masterminded and managed it all.
Tithing was replaced along the way during all this; no longer did people give money once a week to middle-men of the imaginary friends they called their gods. Instead, the sexiest human and humanoid females, usually girls, but sometimes women, were given as often as they were found, always to be enjoyed first by the Governor, always to be cloned en masse; in batches of 50, before, if ever, they were returned, in thanks, to those who had spotted, captured, and brought (or shipped) them. Thus, hundreds of thousands of worlds across all creation had their best female creations focused into Inisfree; the city which contained a couple hundred worlds of its own. They came under guard, escorted by the great real men of their realms, sometimes through the Civilian Aerospaceport portals, sometimes through the Military Aerospaceport ones, and sometimes, when shipped like crated goods and gifts, through the portals of the Highway Pyramid. Those portals automatically scanned and cleaned them, ridding them of anything contraband in Inisfree, and the Inisfreeans automatically collared, branded, herded, and trained them, making them, to the last girl, into respectable members of their sex; kajirae; female pleasure slaves exquisitely trained even beyond the best capabilities of the Registered Companions. All of this was the New World Order's form of tithing; tithing's latest and greatest evolution. Appropriately, it was voluntary, though Inisfreeans, of course, often went out as armadas to raid and acquire their Own female beauties.
The Governor, King of Inisfree, King of Kings, collared all females who were worthy in this way, and he did this so well and completely that it was, perhaps, none of these females at all who ever wanted to remove these collars of his, each stamped, deep into its metal, with the seal of his city, Inisfree; the sigil which was his new and eternal signature. These collars were the new wedding rings, you see, and every one of these females knew it on some primal level, bursting into tears at the very mention of ever having it removed. "No!" they often cried out, shivering in a panic. "No! I don't Want it removed! Please! Please, masters!" they dropped to their knees, hugging and kissing the feet of the men, husbands and some kings, they were, upon occasion, returned to. This greatly pleased these real men who often expressed their deepest gratitude toward the Governor, their king of kings, and they left their wives and daughters and so many others in his collars, knowing it had helped them and their societies avoid untold numbers and degrees of stress-exacerbated illnesses. This technique of his had exponentially increased both their lifespans and standard of living. They could not help but marvel at and kneel before it all, waves of gratitude and respect washing over them, chilling them in the most wonderful of ways.
Queen Ambrosia, vampire Barbie, as her husband, the Governor, liked to call her, making her blush and smile, lighting up her beautiful eyes, kept Her collar on, too, only taking it off when she went to the Outlands to manage her Own realm, which she was still free, as per her husband's decisions, to rule. More accurately, though, of course, she knelt in the position of the Gorean female pleasure slave before her husband, politely requesting in this proper way... that He remove the collar For her, as no collared girl may or can ever remove her own collar. The way She tithed was to her own husband; every time she returned, when she could, and when she was overwhelmed with horniness for him, to the realm she now secretly frequented; Inisfree.
The whole Universe, 'the Verse', rebounded and celebrated this newfound sexual liberation, harmony, and wisdom. An unlikely peasant boy had risen to pioneer this beyond-epic movement, and the Earth, unlikeliest world of all, what with its confused and shameful sexual misunderstanding history, had risen to be the sexual mastery spotlight for all the others. The disgusting ones were swept aside, eliminated once and for all, the riches were no longer squandered on imaginary friends and the tyrants who hid behind them, and both science and true love were unchained, never to be held back or otherwise wronged again. The sixth mass extinction was achieved. The Earth was cleaned up. And the worthy continued to be collared forevermore. The end? The beginning.