Chapter 351 Christia's Tribulations
Violet's face clearly showed her shock at the sudden appearance of the Deep Insemination Tool handed to her.
“Th-this... why are you giving this to me?!”
“Why? Because it's Christia's job, that's why. What do the sows coming into the main pigsty do? What do they do? Come on, let's have our white sow tell us.”
He tossed the question to Christia just like a schoolteacher grilling distracted students on where they'd left off in the lesson.
“Ch-Christia, what... what kind of job is that? Why are you suddenly turning your body like...?!”
Violet shot Christia a frantic glance, as if sensing she knew something about why he was handing her the tool.
But by then, Christia had already casually turned her back from the feed trough, lining up her ass with the other sows. Violet tilted her head in confusion, then caught on—her face flushing bright red in realization.
Christia, unperturbed, wiggled her hips toward the stall entrance and glanced indifferently at the flustered Violet.
With a quiet ...tch, she flushed anyway and gave Violet—and him—the answer he'd demanded.
“...Impregnating themselves with semen. Once a sow goes into heat, she mates here nonstop until fertilized by a boar, then moves straight to the breeding pen next door... That's what I know.”
Was it the humiliation of crawling on all fours behind the sows heading to the breeding pen on the day she'd lost her virginity—not entirely in vain, perhaps?
Recalling how she'd followed their asses while getting smacked, or the memory of being trained with the Deep Insemination Tool by his hand—whatever it was, Christia's pussy gushed with fluids.
Finally piecing it together through the tool in her hand, Violet let out a piercing shriek.
“Th-this is outrageous! You said you'd only touch her during mealtimes!”
“And I'm not touching her now, am I? Proof: instead of Christia getting fucked right this second, you're the one riding my cock.”
He caught his breath, then continued to Violet.
“Your job is my cockhouse, just like the white sow has her own duties. You gonna steal those too? Tradition in this main pigsty: sows that don't get pregnant get culled. So you cool with me culling Christia right now?”
Culling—the farm owner's term for arbitrarily shipping out problematic or barren sows. In plain terms, disposal.
Violet wouldn't know the jargon, but she sensed the ominous ring of the word, shaking her head vigorously with another shriek.
“That's cheating! This is so unfair!”
She'd clearly agreed under the condition he wouldn't touch Christia—never dreaming "not touching" meant only no physical contact. Now she sniffled, on the verge of tears.
Of course she'd twisted herself into this state to keep Christia from panting on his cock and falling further. No change there, so naturally she felt cheated.
“Per our deal, I won't lay a finger on her outside mealtimes. So wouldn't it be better if you do it with your own hands? She'd get through her shift feeling a bit more at ease that way.”
“W-with my hands...?!”
Violet stared at the Deep Insemination Tool in her grip, eyes still dazed with confusion.
Meanwhile, ignoring them both,
Urga-noona—arms crossed, beaming with pride at her dutiful sow's spot-on answer—flashed her signature shark teeth and started smacking Christia's ass with gusto.
“W-wait! In front of the Saintess! Oink! In front of the Saintess, I—oiiink...♥”
“Good girl! See that? See? Our white sow's so smart!”
Eleonora's charge, Violet, floundered without an answer, while Urga-noona—grinning ear to ear at her own charge's perfect response—rewarded Christia with a barrage of slaps like it was a prize.
“N-nooo... In front of the Saintess, getting my ass beaten by this barbarian and cumming... I c-can't let her see, nuuu...♥”
“As if you haven't been trained to cum every time your lover smacks you! Oh, right—your lunch.”
Even as she walloped Christia's ass, Urga-noona didn't forget his meal, awkwardly popping open the icebox with her free left hand while her right stayed busy.
“...No way my lunch is in there too?”
“Heh, mixed some bibim noodles or whatever—said cold's best, so I packed extra. Stick that ass out, bitch.”
“Oiiink?!”
Even wrapped in plastic, an icebox with semen packs—now with actual food? He figured it was a joke, but she pulled out a bowl of vividly red mixed cold noodles without a hint of kidding.
One hand on the white sow's rump, the other boldly offering the bowl—even a lifetime shameless bastard like him was struck speechless.
“...I'll eat well...”
“Stop! Stop hitting her! At least in front of the Saintess—oiiink...♥”
“...Dig in.”
Urga-noona dove back into tormenting Christia, so he figured he'd give her playtime, let Christia recover from her defeat shock,
and grab that missed break to eat. But then—the warm, chewy mucosal grip of Violet's walls trembled around his cock, stimulating him.
Victory joy short-lived, she tensed at the wildly off-script turn, her body signaling her feelings loud and clear.
“Wanna take a break?”
“Huh? N-no! I mean... Master's... ah?”
One hand clutching the bowl from Urga-noona, the other the Christia-special insemination kit—Violet's eyes darted everywhere, unsure where to look.
Still impaled on his cock, he scooped her up with his idle hands and rejoined Urga-noona in the central aisle.
“What? You look swamped—need help?”
“Nah, came to watch the loser's pathetic fate with you.”
“...Loser?”
Urga-noona tilted her head at his words, then stiffly swiveled toward Christia like a glitchy robot—spotting Violet claiming his cock.
Christia noticed the gaze and tried to flee, but the stall's whole point was to trap sows for easy insemination. The white sow could only hike her ass high and beg for mercy.
“You little shit! Get over here! You lost to her?!”
“No! I-I can explain! It's all a conspiracy against me—oink?!”
“Stick it out, you chewed-up bitch—you're getting spanked till your ass explodes today!”
“Hiiik, stop, mercy... Not now, with the Saintess here—oink!”
As Christia squealed like a pig with every hand-blurring smack, he dragged over a metal chair, planted his ass, and kneaded Violet's tits to snap her out of gawking at Christia.
“Eep?!”
“Careful, don't drop that.”
“Wh-what if I do...?”
“You're seeing it right now.”
-OIIINK!!
Right on cue, Urga-noona's palm—echoing her fury with extra meaty thwacks—drew a vulgar cry from Christia that rang in their ears. Violet clutched the cold noodle bowl tight to her chest.
“Ah! It's cold?!”
“Hand it over and do your job.”
“Huh? M-my job...?”
She obediently passed the bowl but alternated wide-eyed stares between Christia and the tool, trembling harder.
“Damn, noona—first time mixing and you nailed it. Always play coy, but you're a total homemaker pro.”
[Whoa, mixed to perfection, huh?]
“Um, ex-excuse me...?”
The bold Violet from earlier—demanding his cock all day—vanished, replaced by day-one Saintess fluster.
“What're you waiting for? You know what it is.”
“Huh? What?!”
“How to use it.”
“I d-don't know! I don't know anything about th-this...”
She'd panicked hard at first sight despite never seeing it—bet she knew the purpose and method somehow.
Maybe spied through that busted back door all this time.
“Y-you really want me to do this...?”
“You won the game, so I can't touch her during shifts. But no work, no eat—the white sow's gotta inseminate like a proper main pigsty sow. Can't have her slacking here.”
She didn't flat-out refuse—proof she'd soaked up their mindset plenty. But hesitating to mistreat family-like Christia? Natural.
-Stop, my ass, sto-oink...♥
“Gonna leave our white sow like that? She'll really burst.”
“Ughhh...!!”
“Noona really spanks with flair.”
Not content watching Christia—ass stuffed with his cock—get whomped by Urga-noona,
Violet frowned slightly at him casually eating too.
“So? Gonna do it or not? Or should I give that (insemination tool) to Urga-noona? She knows how. Just... heavy-handed.”
“F-fine! I'll do it! Cockhouse duty and messing with Christia!”
His words barely landed before Violet's vigorous reply.
Her walls clenched fiercely around his cock—stiff tension melting into soft ass-wiggles, her signal of resolve.
“...Enjoying my asshole, using my cockhouse—why keep staring at Christia? Planning to break the deal and fuck her instead...?”
Testing him? Or demanding confirmation?
To her suddenly serious gaze, he thrust up reassuringly.
“Kinda tempting now you mention it. Oh yeah.”
“Hmph!”
Even at his teasing, Violet shot Christia a glare eerily like the one she'd given Eleonora belly-to-belly with Urga-noona.
As expected, she connected the tool's hose tube to the semen-pack tube in her hand.
And then,
“I'll sub for Christia—serve Master so devotedly you'll forget all about tormenting her. Finish quick, and you won't have excuses to mess with her either—she'll be free!”
“That's exactly what I wanted to hear.”
Hand her to Urga-noona? Endless training ahead. Better she do it—same for Christia, she'd reasoned.
Violet aimed the Deep Insemination Tool at Christia's drooling, clear-fluid pussy.
“Yeah, slide it right in.”
“I-I got this—eat your meal, Master! Hoo... hoo...”
One good shove and it'd reach Christia's womb per training—but hesitation hit again. Violet just hyperventilated.
And that bought enough time for Urga-noona's next move.
“Hoo, hoo... Fuck, pissing me off. Honey!”
“Yeah?”
“Brought this for you—and I'm dipping in?!”
“...What, ice cream too? And why there...?”
Urga-noona pulled red bean shaved ice from the box toward gasping, ass-swollen Christia—Violet's resolve wavered anew.
And,
“Eeeek?!”