The Stables of 2020

2020 grassierte ein Virus weltweit dieses Virus zielte auf die weibliche Bevölkerung der Menschheit innerhalb kürzester Zeit nach der Ansteckung begannen die Frauen jegliche höhere Gehirnfunktionen zu verlieren sie nahm das Verhalten von Tieren an einige Fingern wie Katzen sich zu verhalten Hunde Kühe oder Pferde innerhalb so kurzer Zeit war fast die gesamte weibliche Bevölkerung der Welt zu menschlichen Haustieren degradiert worden sie hatten die Angewohnheit jegliche Form von Kleidung selbst von Leibe zu reißen und nur noch nackt meistens davon Viren oder bei manchen Pferden auf zwei Beinen zu gehen trotzdem haben sie nur noch die Intelligenz von Haustieren sie konnten noch einfache Befehle verstehen Verhaltensweisen und einige grundlegende Zusammenhänge schließen aber das was zurückgeht kann sie nicht mehr begreifen man konnte sie noch trainieren wie Haustiere. Das Besondere daran an den diesen Virus war das jede Frau scheinbar eine Art Verjährung durch machte Visier 21. Lebensjahr wieder erreichten während dieses Prozesses wurden sie zu Schönheiten ähnlich wie Supermodels sahen sie aus kaum Hautveränderungen größere Brüste straffrei Hintern selbst die hässlichsten Frauen sahen nach der Virusinfektion wunderschön aus Wald wohlbekannt das selbst angebliche Frauen die immun waren langsam selbst so Haustieren wurden und das weibliche Kinder von infizierten Frauen genau die gleichen Anzeichen der Infektion zeigten sie selbst und eine schnellere Pubertät erreichen bis die 21 waren dagegen meist nur 3-4 Jahre danach waren sie geschlechtsreif. Die Frauen hatten sogar eine Art Hitzeperiode die Tiere entwickelt, d. h., dass sie in dieser Zeit extrem sexuell aktiv sind und sehr fruchtbar sind. Die Männer scheinbar immun gegen diesen Virus trotzdem können sie es auch übertragen auf andere Frauen. Innerhalb kurzer Zeit stand eine vollkommen neue Gesellschaft Form nämlich das menschliche Frauen nur noch Haustiere sind und dass die Männer die Besitzer sind.

The streets were quieter now. Not empty—just different. Instead of women in blouses and skirts, they walked naked on all fours, collars around their necks, leashes trailing behind them. The virus had reshaped everything in months. What used to be CEOs, scientists, teachers—now just pets. Beautiful, mindless pets. I tightened my grip on the leash in my hand. Lina, my "dog," strained against it, her bare ass swaying as she panted. She used to be my neighbor. Now she just whimpered and nuzzled my thigh when she wanted attention. The transformation hit at 21. Overnight, patchy acne and thin lips smoothed into something out of a magazine. Hips widened. Tits plumped. And the brain? Gone. All instinct now—food, sleep, sex. Especially sex. Lina's heat cycle started this morning. She’d been rubbing against my leg nonstop, her cunt dripping. I could smell it. Every man could. I dragged her into the apartment and unclipped the leash. She stayed put, watching me with glassy eyes. Good girl. “On the bed,” I ordered. She scrambled up, her tits bouncing, legs spreading before I even touched her. No hesitation. No shame. Just hunger. Exactly how I liked her.

I unbuckled my belt slowly, watching the way her hips lifted in anticipation. A thin sheen of sweat already glistened on her stomach, her swollen nipples stiff in the cool air of the apartment. Lina whined—high, desperate—as I stepped closer. Her fingers dug into the sheets, knuckles white. The scent of her was overwhelming now, sweet and musky, her thighs already glistening. "Stay," I warned when she tried to arch up toward me. She froze instantly, a shiver running through her body, her breath coming in short pants. I ran my thumb along her inner thigh, just shy of where she ached for contact. She keened, squirming but obedient—still holding position. A string of saliva dripped from her parted lips onto the sheets. "Good girl." I let my fingers finally drag through her wetness, spreading her open. She was impossibly hot, her cunt clenching around nothing. Her back arched as I circled her clit, just once, teasing. Her hips jerked, but she didn’t break. Couldn’t. Not until I let her.

I pressed two fingers inside her without warning, the tight grip of her cunt almost too much. Lina’s head tossed back, a ragged noise tearing from her throat as her body swallowed me deeper. She was so fucking wet—dripping down my knuckles, her thighs trembling with the effort to stay still. “You can move now,” I growled, curling my fingers. Her hips bucked hard against my hand, an animal rhythm taking over as she chased her pleasure. The bed creaked under her desperation. Her nails scraped at the sheets, her tits bouncing with every frantic thrust. I added a third finger, stretching her wider. Her moans pitched higher, broken and guttural, her cunt pulsing around me. A fresh rush of slick coated my palm. “That’s it,” I muttered, watching her come undone. “Fuck yourself on my hand.” Her entire body shuddered, her back arching off the bed as the first wave hit. But I didn’t stop—just kept driving into her, relentless, until her cries turned hoarse and her legs shook too hard to keep fucking back. Only then did I pull away. She whined at the loss, her cunt still fluttering, needy. I unbuckled my jeans, freeing my cock. Lina didn’t need orders this time. She turned onto her hands and knees, presenting herself with a low, hungry sound. I didn’t make her wait.