Serving the Dear Leader: Part 10

Links to all parts of the story:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Chapter 15 – A Night at the Opera

Back at the mountain retreat and life settled into a monotonous and strange routine for Yong-Hee. Every day she was dressed in her uniform complete with monoglove and, more often than not, gag, and forced to sit through endless sessions of political education interspersed with sexual training sessions with her new partner, Valentina. The political education, which had been a feature of her life since as early as she could remember, felt different now and distinctly more uncomfortable, a discomfort caused not by her monoglove either. As she watched the newsreels telling of how the Dear Leader was exerting Himself, going through great hardships for the glory of the People and the Motherland, then she felt somehow betrayed and cheated. Such feelings were unnatural and false of course, and she never repeated them to anyone, but she still felt them nonetheless. Had not she seen and heard ample evidence to the contrary during those months spent in the capital? All those times when the TV and radio declared that He was out visiting the Front or factories or hydro-electric power stations when she knew that it was his double or the story simply made-up and the Dear Leader Himself was instead thrusting His cock into her mouth or drooling over a famous actress, singer or sportswoman whilst watching hard-core porn films in His private cinema. Her mind battled with itself; half said that she must be wrong, that the impressions that she was getting were somehow misleading whilst the other thought the unthinkable: that the Dear Leader was the heartless, debauched corrupt tyrant that the Western imperialist lackeys made Him out to be. Such thoughts made her feel so ashamed as to wish she had never been shown such great benevolence by such a man.

Soon after her arrival, two changes were made to the usual life with the platoon of young pioneers. The first was that, in anticipation of the arrival of some important allied diplomats from Africa, the butt plugs that all the pioneers of Platoon 72 were to wear were to be upgraded to larger ones. By now Comrade Yong-Hee had been in the platoon long enough to know what this would ultimately mean and although, like everything else that was part of her life these days, she knew that it would be an honour to please a black man who supported the Global Revolution for Socialist Transformation embarked upon by the late Great Leader, the idea of having an enormous, throbbing black penis shoved roughly into her tender bottom, was not a pleasant one.

The second change was that Comrade Kim announced that all the pioneers would be enacting an opera for the honoured visitors from the People’s Republic of Tanganyika. Yong-Hee had always loved doing plays at school and so this change was one which she welcomed greatly.

The play however, whilst familiar in some parts, was, in other aspects, not quite so mainstream. It was a brand new one written by a great playwright from the capital and told the story of people overthrowing capitalist oppression. That was not unusual, and indeed every play, film or book that Yong-Hee knew about followed the same theme, and rightly so since capitalist and imperialist oppression is terrible, but none of the others did it in this way.

The story was set in the days when the Nipponese cruelly occupied and oppressed the Motherland. Called the Rape of Manpo, the storyline involved a new Nipponese commander taking over and systematically taking all the beautiful young virgins of the city for himself, keeping them in a prison where he would rape them and play perverse sexual games with them. Some were tied up, others raped simultaneously by several soldiers and so on. He also devised elaborate fetish devices and costumes which the poor young women were forced to wear. All the platoon was in tears when this aspect of the plot was read out to them, partially out of pity for the poor oppressed victims of Nipponese imperialist but partially also because, in acting the play, they would be dressed in similar costumes and devices.

However, all was not lost and the Great Leader came to the town, saw the suffering and, gathering a band of loyal socialist patriots, stormed the city and freed the women who then all joined the Glorious People’s Revolution in gratitude.

All the pioneers had a similar role, that of oppressed young Manpo virgins imprisoned by the evil Hitoshi Tanaka. In Yong-Hee’s case, she was raped by him in the first team, then in the second forced to couple with another Manpo virgin and then finally she wore an extremely strange costume indeed. It involved her having her legs and arms bound so that they were folded against themselves and then covered in rubber pouches. Similarly a rubber garment covered her whole body only having holes for her eyes, nose, mouth, breasts and bottom. Then she was covered in a brown fur costume with a dog’s head so that she looked exactly like a dog and could only see out of two peepholes. I say “exactly like a dog” but that is not entirely true, for her enlarged and firm breasts hung out of cut-outs so that it was very clear that she was woman, not canine. Inside it was hot and sweaty and the enormous plug in her bottom from which the dog’s tail protruded, she had to learn to wag. She was firmly gagged but had to make growling noises when, in one of the key scenes, Tanaka was taking her up the bottom roughly when the Great Leader bursts in and kills him. Then, thankfully, in the final scene, she had to wear a partisan’s uniform and joyfully march towards revolution with all the others.

Rehearsing for the opera was hard as all the scenes, including those of a sexual nature, had to be performed to the very exacting standards of the theatre director. Tanaka was played by a famous actor from the capital whom Yong-Hee had seen act in several films and had, she had to admit when she had been younger and more innocent, been the object of a teenage crush. Even so, that didn’t make the scenes when he was taking her roughly up the arse whilst she was dressed as a dog and barked for all she was worth, exactly pleasant.

Finally though, it was the big night when all the great and good of the nation were assembled as well as the Dear Leader’s honoured guest, the President of Tanganyika, an enormous black man who wore colourful tribal robes. Before the performance all the pioneers lined up to greet him as he arrived and then she was whisked off to get ready for the role. Despite the humiliating and degrading nature of what she had to portray, Yong-Hee did realise that this was only what her ancestors had had to put up with whilst suffering under the yoke of Nipponese oppression and so did her tasks the best that she could and at the end, as she stood there welcoming in the Revolution in a partisan’s uniform, the young pioneer felt both proud that she had performed so well that the entire hall was clapping like mad and also that she had, at least, seen the last of the hateful dog costume.

When the opera was over however, Yong-Hee found to her dismay that she hadn’t seen the last of the dog suit. President Umbago of Tanganyika had, it transpired, been very impressed with her acting during the doggie scene and asked that she dress in her suit again and accompany him as he met with the Dear Leader and talked about the glorious construction of socialism in his homeland. It was most humiliating being led everywhere on a leash and having the trot about on all fours but what made it so much worse was that she was a member of the most superior race on all the earth, the race which had spawned both the Great and Dear Leaders and provided the world with the Juche ideal, yet the man now leading her, patting her head and caressing her naked breasts was a negro, the most inferior of all races whom the imperialists had used as foot soldiers to rape her beloved homeland. How could the Dear Leader allow such an indignity to be meted out to a faithful and loyal pioneer of His select Platoon 72.

And it only got worse when, after a large banquet and copious quantities and champagne, President Umbago decided to turn in for the night and take her, still dressed as a dog, to his sumptuous bedroom. And once in there, rather than undress her and enjoy her in the usual fashion, (which would have been degrading enough), instead he merely fastened her leash to the headboard, removed her tail from her anus and then started lubing it with gusto. Terrified when she saw the enormous size of his member, easily twice that of the Dear Leader’s, she started to scream and plead with him to avoid what was to come but due to her hood and gag, these merely came out as canine-like growls and barks which excited the African so further so that when he positioned himself behind her his penis was rock hard. With a roar and a slap on her furry buttocks he pressed and pressed shouting, “Come on doggie! Come on doggie!” until her sphincter muscles eventually gave in and the enormous throbbing tool was thrust in. Never before had she felt so completely filled and so completely and utterly mastered and degraded.

And never before had President Umbago experienced anything like it.

Chapter 16 – The President of Tanganyika

The day following the performance of ‘The Rape of Manpo’ and Comrade Yong-Hee’s doggie humiliation, all the pioneers were given a day’s rest before being taken to their quarters where they were stripped, showered and then made-up since there was to be another naked ball held that evening, this time in the honour of the Motherland’s Eternal and Faithful Ally, the President Umbago of Tanganyika. Yong-Hee struggled to see how a king could be so honoured and close to a country that prides itself on being socialist and against such things as monarchies as being against the socialist ethos but, as always, she knew that whatever the reasons, it must be for the best if the Dear Leader decided it.

Whilst this was Yong-Hee’s second ball, to her surprise – and dismay – this one turned out to be quite a different experience. The president it transpired, had not yet tired of her charms and was as taken with her out of the doggie suit as in it and so he attached himself to her, (or to be more precise, the opposite way round, as he placed a collar around her neck and led her around by a lead), all night before finally taking her upstairs where he took her vigorously again, although thankfully, in the more usual fashion this time. This was most shame-making not only because of his inferior race but also because Umbago was incredibly corpulent and ugly. Nonetheless, the feeling was not mutual and the following day she was taken into the top-secret negotiations between the president and the Dear Leader and, to her horror, whilst the two men talked politics, she had to kneel under the president’s desk in her uniform, arms forced behind her in her monoglove and, most humiliatingly of all, her mouth kept open by a ring gag so she drooled continually.

After the men had talked business, she was ordered to suck and lick the penis of the President of Tanganyika whilst they both relaxed and Valentina provided the same service for the Dear Leader. Now relaxed, the conversation turned from minerals and armaments to personal pleasures.

“You know what, I really am impressed by your pioneers, Kim and especially this little cutie here. Back in Tanganyika I keep a full harem of exotic and beautiful women, from all over the world and they are trained fully by my eunuchs, but not one can suck cock like Yong-Hee here.”

“Platoon 72 are trained to the highest standards and have given me great pleasure over the years, although I have to say that at the moment I am most taken with this white girl here who was a present from the President of Pridniestrovia.”

“Ahh, he is a good guy, I have been to his place as well, and the women there are incredible! However, you can keep your white slut; I have several such girls at home, this little rascal here is more to my taste. I love what you have done with their tits, such massive breasts on a tiny frame, it is really alluring.”

“Thank you.”

“But have you never considered corseting them? Tightlace a girl to 40cm and then the contrast is all the greater, as too is her discomfort!”

“The idea sounds promising, I must order some. Yes, that will be a fun project! But what do you think of the monogloves?”

“A masterful touch, genius. I have never come across one before but now I am thinking of having some ordered for all my harem. Yes, I shall.”

“We can supply them, as a gift of course. And I have another gift as well. Can you guess what it is?”

“No, what is it?”

“Yong-Hee here. Take her with you. I am bored of her now and wish to make a space in the platoon in order to take a young pioneer I met whilst opening an apartment complex in Hyesan. Please, take her with you when you go.”

“Kim, thanks, that’s an incredible present, so thoughtful of you. How can I ever repay you…?”

But Yong-Hee never learnt how the Dear Leader could be repaid, for instead her head was reeling with a dozen conflicting emotions. She felt sick to the pit of her stomach. On the one hand she would be leaving, leaving the Motherland, her family and friends, leaving the Paradise of the People, the only land that she had ever known, for some hot desert to serve a corpulent African despot who already had a harem of women. Although she knew that she had a valuable role to fulfil in Platoon 72, she had always assumed that once she retired, she would be able to marry and live a normal life afterwards, with children and a loving husband. Yet how could she now, if she were exiled thousands of miles away, cast into a harem of abused women? And wrestling with the emotions that such thoughts bring were her attitudes to the Dear Leader. On one hand she was devastated: He had said that He was bored of her, bored! Had she not tried her best, gone through some traumatic experiences in order to pleasure Him and now He was just bored! Part of her wanted to shout and rage at the man whom she had given everything to and who now just tossed her to one side like a used tissue. Yet at the same time all those years of devotion, of almost worship to His name made her feel ashamed. Bored of her meant that she wasn’t good enough somehow. Even after all those weeks sucking Him off in Pyongyang and having the lies exposed: He wasn’t really at the front, He didn’t really exert Himself for the Motherland, instead He spent most of the day being pleasured by young pioneers and actresses, watching pornographic films, eating fine food and getting drunk. Yet even though she now knew the truth, that ancient, deeply inbred sense of devotion was hard to shake. She had bored Him; she had let the Motherland down. And then too there was an excitement and a sense of release. Knelt there, the throbbing cock of a fat negro filling her mouth, she realised that a life spent gagged, anally-plugged, sexually-frustrated and restrained, existing only to be raped by political leaders, that was no life at all, that deep down she was unhappy and lonely and wanted to escape. Well, now she would be escaping, starting a new life. But what would that life be like.

At that moment the President of Tanganyika erupted in her mouth and salty semen flooded her throat. Little did Yong-Hee know that her silent question had just been answered. That was what her life would be all about in Tanganyika, just as it had been in Platoon 72. Well, for as long as she pleased the president and then it would just be forced breeding and cast out to be a whore amongst his guards. No, very soon Comrade Hong Yong-Hee, the brave young pioneer from the elite Platoon 72 would realise that serving the Dear Leader was not such a bad role in life after all.

Fact or Fiction?

Some people may read this work of fiction as a veiled attack on the regime of the Late Kim Jong-Il, the Glorious Leader of the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea who shone the Light of Socialism brightly across the world and challenged the imperialists and their lackeys. This is obviously a false reading and the Dear Leader in this tale has nothing to do with that Dear Leader at all, despite their being some linguistic similarities. Kim Jong-Il after all, was not a debauched despot in any way whatsoever and instead His only concern was the welfare and progress of the Motherland.

However, there have been articles written, heinous imperialist propaganda no doubt, which describe debaucheries not dissimilar to those in this tale. They are, naturally, wholly false and this tale was written as a means of pointing out the inaccuracy of the Western viewpoint towards the Dear Leader of the DPRK. However, for academic reasons only, please check out these heinous articles which cast terrible aspersions upon the good character of the late Dear Leader.

DP

The Pleasure’s all the Dear Leader’s

http://www.atimes.com/atimes/Korea/MB23Dg01.html

Wikipedia page of Kippumjo

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kippumjo

Links to all parts of the story:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

10 thoughts on “Serving the Dear Leader: Part 10

  1. Although I enjoyed the story I did not think it up to your usual high standard. Cannot put my finger on exactly why this is so.

    Like

    • Nye,
      Alas, I may have to dash your hopes. However, I have sent a story to TOTV so there may well be something on there soon. As for this blog, no new ones though I may have an old one or two to drag out of hiding…

      Like

      • Thanks for that piece of info dave. I shall eagerly await the next TOTV update which I guess is some weeks away seeing as it was only updated last week. As for dragging some stories out of hiding, I still have on my hard drive copies of unfinished stories you sent me some years back at a time we were corresponding on such things. A couple of them I have always hoped you will continue with.

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  2. Hello Dave,

    I think I’ve read nearly all your stories by now and find them excellently written and highly inspring – with “Serving the dear leader”, “Alison becomes a Lady of Leisure” and “Hamesd the Honored” as my favorites. Thank you very much for sharing your talent!
    I’ve always been a fan of restrictive, invasive fashion-accessoires and costumes (mostly doggygirls, but also stuff like this http://www.furaffinity.net/view/2758657/ ), but your stories really are among the best I’ve read so far, well researched and extremely intriguing and *plausible* in their fictional cultural groundings and thus the motives for the actions and perceptions of their protagonists.
    I hope I’ll find some time to illustrate some ideas of yours… 🙂
    Again: Kudos, and keep up writing those imaginative stories!

    Like

    • Wow! Thanks for the praise, it means a lot. Thanks too for the offer of some illustrating, I’d be grateful for anything. I like your work and even though I’ve never written a puppygirl story, I do read them from time to time. With regards to my writing, I try to write what I have called Societal restriction, that is whereby the girl is restricted and forced into bondage because of the society that she’s in and so accepts because she must fit in even if she is reluctant or against it. Check out my other stuff on http://www.staylace.com and/or Tales of the Veils.

      Regards,

      DP

      Like

  3. (Strange – I’m not able to reply to you…)

    Dave,
    you have never written a puppygirl story? But you did!
    The 10th chapter of “Serving the Dear Leader”, “A Night at the Opera”, has every ingredient a forced doggygirl story needs; and it is, as always, excellently executed – probably my favorite part, fitting very smoothly into the flow of the story.
    So, I could easily imagine a longer story written by you dealing with forced costuming, muzzlegagging, plugtailing, leashing, all with a sound and appealing sociocultural background for the doggygirls’ plight; well, you already did that in many stories, with girls and women just staying upright enduring these accessories, instead of spending the lion’s share of the time on all fours… 😉
    And thank you very much for the link to staylace – the Tetralogy is great, I instantly added “Grabielle van Hessel” to my favorite stories!

    Best wishes,
    Vet

    Like

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