Lie down on the mattress to conserve strength before duty begins

Futanari Fortress, Barracks Cell Three, at 11:49 AM on Monday March 13th, 2024.

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Your trembling legs finally give out. The exhaustion is too overwhelming, Kamiko's potential disapproval too distant a threat compared to the immediate screaming need for rest. You collapse onto the thin stained mattress, your massive tits spreading heavily across your chest as you lie on your back.

The moment your head touches the rough fabric, unconsciousness drags you under like a riptide.

You don't dream. There's only blessed darkness, your mind too fractured and exhausted to process anything. Your hypersensitive body continues its biological functions—cum leaking steadily from your gaped holes, your womb tattoo pulsing softly with violet light, your permanently erect nipples aching against the cool air—but you're mercifully unaware of it all.

Time passes in that void.

ICY SHOCK explodes across your naked body.

You jolt awake with a strangled gasp as freezing water drenches you completely. Your eyes snap open to see Kamiko standing over you, holding an empty metal bucket, her gray eyes cold and utterly unsympathetic.

"Duty begins now," she states flatly.

Before you can process the words, rough hands grip your upper arms. Two soldiers you don't recognize—one with short red hair, the other with a blonde buzz cut—haul you upright off the mattress. Your feet barely touch the concrete floor as they drag you toward the door.

"Wait—" you manage to gasp, but no one responds.

They carry you through the doorway into the harsh fluorescent corridor. Your wet skin slides against their grips as they maneuver you down the hall. Through your disoriented vision you glimpse Kamiko walking ahead, tablet in hand, her cropped silver hair catching the overhead lights.

The soldiers turn a corner, then another. You pass several closed metal doors marked with numbers—Cells Four through Eight. At the end of the corridor is a larger reinforced door marked "COMMUNAL STATION."

Kamiko opens it and steps inside. The soldiers carry you through after her.

The room is approximately fifteen feet square, concrete walls painted industrial gray. In the center stands a reinforced padded bench—waist-high, angled slightly forward, with leather restraints dangling from metal attachment points along its frame.

Your stomach drops as understanding crystallizes.

"Position her," Kamiko orders.

The soldiers maneuver you to the bench and bend you forward over it. Your massive tits press heavily into the padded surface, your ass thrust upward behind you. The redhead grabs your left wrist and buckles a leather cuff tightly around it, securing it to the bench's front left leg. The blonde does the same with your right wrist.

They move to your ankles next. Each leg is spread wide and strapped to the bench's rear legs, leaving your cum-leaking pussy and gaped asshole completely exposed and accessible. The position is utterly degrading—you're bent over like livestock, unable to move, every hole perfectly presented.

"Testing," Kamiko says clinically.

She steps behind you and without warning shoves three fingers straight into your hypersensitive pussy.

You cry out as pleasure explodes through your modified nervous system. Even that simple penetration feels overwhelming, your 300% amplified nerves sending cascading signals of ecstasy through your brain. Kamiko's fingers curl, finding your cervix—the permanently dilated opening that no longer protects your womb—and pressing against it experimentally.

"Excellent access," she remarks, withdrawing her fingers. "Seventy-three soldiers confirmed. First rotation begins now."

She walks to the door and opens it.

Four futanari soldiers step inside immediately.