Ch 18 — Betrayal

Steel pipes, tanks, pumps, tubes. Rust and industrial decay. An old dairy factory that had seen better days.

On the steel floor, two naked black men were chained to a heavy machine. The big one — Allen Wright, owner of the Wright Hucow Farm — groaned under the weight of two busty blondes bouncing on him like a human trampoline. Not hucows. Soldiers. Norwegian Imperial Matriarchy Army. Their arms and legs were muscular, one of them built like a part-time bodybuilder.

When they were done, they climbed off. The muscular one raised her gauss rifle. The shot cracked, echoing through the hall. Allen Wright slumped forward, blood running down his face.

“You had to shoot him?” Alvdis asked, sucking cum off her fingers. “Bit cruel, don’t you think? That farmer had a nice cock. Would’ve been fun to bounce on him a little longer.”

Trude buckled her armor. “Did you even listen? He admitted they’re already dispatching troops to the other farms. All thanks to the redhead bitch leaving that farmer and his sons strapped to milk pumps.”

She glanced around, making sure no one else was listening, then turned to Alvdis. “You want the rich dork, right?”

Alvdis narrowed her eyes. “Could you hide your contempt just a little? He has a name. Povel Vieregg. And in case you missed it, he’s actually been pulling his weight.”

“Whatever.” Trude’s tone was flat. “You want his dick and his money. But you won’t get either as long as Idun’s around. And let’s be honest — you’re not going to win him over with your pornstar act.”

Alvdis winced. “Ouch. Rude, Trude. You really need to work on your social skills. Too many years interrogating men, not enough time being around normal people.”

Trude shrugged. “We know where Nora is now. Mr. Dead confirmed what Angelo over there already said.” She gestured at the second man, chained nearby, shaking. “Oh, I almost forgot.”

She raised her Krag 22, aimed, fired. Another shot thundered through the hall. Angelo slumped.

“Dead men tell no tales,” Trude said with a smile.

Alvdis rolled her eyes. “The Inquisition messed you up. You didn’t used to be like this.”

Trude gave her a look of pure disdain.

“You wouldn’t say that if you’d seen what I’ve seen. The Redpillers are vicious. Do you know how many terror attacks we stop every year? Countless. All men should be in camps if you ask me. All of them. You can’t trust them. There are sympathizers everywhere.”

Alvdis looked like she was about to walk away.

“I don’t want another rant about how bad men are. Get to the point.”

She didn’t feel sorry for Allen or Angelo. Both had abused the poor hucows they’d just rescued. What bothered her was the way Trude had killed them — so casual, like it meant nothing.

Alvdis wanted to get her armor on, but her tits were still smeared with cum. She lifted one, licking it clean as Trude talked.

“We’re not telling the others Nora is at the Jackson farm,” Trude said, strapping on her chestplate. “What we’ll tell them is Neo Dixie troops are inbound. That we need to hit them now. No time to take the farms in sequence. We split teams.”

By the time she was tightening her armor straps, Alvdis was licking the last of the cum off her breast.

“You and I go with Idun to Carter Evans’ farm. The others go to the Jackson farm where Nora’s held. Hildegunn, Vieregg, Maya, Heather — that’ll be their team. We just have to convince Hildegunn. You’ll tell her I feel bad about what happened with Idun, that I want time to patch things up.”

Alvdis froze halfway into her armor. “Shit, Trude. This is too far. I want Vieregg, but not like this.”

Snatching a man was one thing. Getting a rival captured by a sadistic farmer — that was something else. Still, she hurried to buckle on her armor while Trude was already done.

She hated herself for not speaking up. She wanted to protest, but Trude had a way of getting under her skin. Whispering to her loneliness. Reminding her how long it had been since she’d had anything real. Telling her this was the choice: do this, or die alone.

Trude laid it out like a prophecy. Vieregg would be devastated without Idun. He’d need comfort. A shoulder to cry on. A warm body to fuck just to forget. The tragedy would bind him and Alvdis closer.

“Boys are simple,” Trude said flatly. “One pussy’s as good as another. He’ll get over it.”

They boarded a large hucow transporter truck. The rescued hucows were herded into the back with most of the squad. One farmhand had been spared to drive. Trude sat behind him, gauss pistol pressed into his ribs, barking directions. On these roads, no one could risk seeing a white at the wheel. Neo Dixie had no free whites — least of all free white women.

But friction was growing. Allen Wright and his men shot dead, and now Trude putting a bullet into their driver the moment they reached the warehouse — it didn’t sit right.

Vieregg had protested the loudest. “What the fuck are you doing? He was driving for us!”

Trude had only rolled her eyes. “What the fuck does a Swede know about war?”

Idun didn’t like it either, but she kept her silence. Alvdis knew the look — Idun had seen and done things in the field she wasn’t about to share. Not with her “boy toy” Vieregg hanging on her every word.

Hildegunn finally stood, her tone like steel. “Listen, girls. We don’t kill for sport. Especially not civilians. But sometimes you’re put in situations where you have no choice. Our op was compromised because we left the last farmer alive. Trude’s interrogation made it clear — he was freed after we left and fed information straight to Neo Dixie authorities.”

She paced in front of them, eyes hard.

“I’ll be honest. I’m not very sorry they’re dead,” Hildegunn said. “The things these hucows have told us… those farmers weren’t just civilians living their lives. They were criminals. Monsters. Years of sexual slavery and torture inflicted on countless girls.” She stopped, sweeping her eyes across the squad.

“I try to stay out of politics. Do my duty. But don’t mistake this — these hucow farmers were not innocents. They were degenerates. And you need to remember why we fight this war. It’s for the dignity and freedom of Aryan women. For their liberty from sexual exploitation and slavery at the hands of subhumans.”

Alvdis felt pride rising in her chest. How long had the motherland been vilified abroad? Nazi bitches. Evil fascist scum. Always the same accusations, the same stereotypes. And what had the moralists ever done? What had the Northern United States done? They condemned Imperial Norway for “human rights violations,” yet stood idle while their Southern neighbors committed the worst atrocities against white women.

Now there was proof. They had video of the hucows they’d rescued: naked, udders swollen, chained to milking machines, brutally raped and pumped. Their screams, their humiliation — undeniable evidence.

Trude had dismissed Hildegunn as no true believer. But surely, now, even she would see the sergeant’s loyalty. Loyal to Supreme Leader Svanhild Hvidsten. Loyal to the motherland and everything it stood for.

Alvdis had had her doubts before. But rescuing the hucows convinced her she was on the side of good. She wasn’t one of the bad guys.

Vieregg could be excused. He was just a rich Swede who’d lived his whole life in peace and comfort. What did he know of sacrifice? And Idun — yes, she was honest, but did she even have convictions? Alvdis remembered her hesitation aboard the LZ-42 Noctilucent, when they had hailed Supreme Leader Svanhild Hvidsten.

The Australians were another matter. Maya was a capable fighter, Heather seasoned — good soldiers, both. Haldis had not erred in recruiting them. But how far could you trust foreigners? Their loyalty was to the Queendom, not to Supreme Leader Svanhild Hvidsten. Heather had been visibly upset at the execution of the farmhands. Maya hid it better, but Alvdis had seen the flicker in her eyes.

The squad was pulling in different directions. The tension was growing.

Hildegunn brought out maps of the Jackson and Carter farms and gathered the squad around. “Listen, girls. We have to split up this time. Our intelligence suggests Neo Dixie infantry is on the way to secure hucow farms. We have a very short window before it becomes next to impossible to break Nora out. We are almost certain she’s being held either at the Jackson or Carter farm. To make sure we reach her before Neo Dixie does, we’re splitting into two teams.”

Vieregg had to stay behind, watching the ever-growing number of hucows. They were all very affectionate towards him. He must have been the first mild-mannered, kind man they had ever encountered. The result was that they clung to him constantly, giggling and pressing their soft boobs against him whenever they could.

By the time the others left, the man was practically drowning in boobs. Dolly squealed and grabbed his arm, shoving it between her tits.

“No, mine!” Vicky pouted, hugging his other side.

“Boob cuddle!” Constance announced proudly as she buried his face in her chest.

Hildegunn took the Australians. Idun went with Alvdis and Trude to the Carter Evans farm. The tension between the three was unbearable. Trude tried to smooth things over after their earlier fight, but she had no talent for charm. Idun’s dislike of Alvdis hung thick in the air — she hadn’t missed Alvdis’s attempts to win over Vieregg.

What weighed heaviest, though, wasn’t Idun’s resentment. It was the guilt churning in Alvdis’s stomach. The shame of what she had agreed to. If she hated Idun like Trude did, it might be easier. But she didn’t. She knew Idun was temperamental and stubborn, but she wasn’t mean. She did her job. In another world, they could have been friends.

They walked for over an hour from their abandoned truck before reaching the gentle slopes above the Carter Evans farm. Calling it a farm was generous. It looked like a supervillain’s lair: a vast, decaying dairy plant with rust-eaten tanks and steel piping crisscrossing like bones.

Through their binoculars, they spotted hucows in the fields. A large black man barked orders at one and cracked a whip across her back. She stumbled forward, her top-heavy chest pitching her off balance, and crashed boobs-first into the dirt.

“Definitely a hucow farm,” Trude muttered.

Alvdis flinched. She knew that unsteady gait — she’d lived it. Born after the DOLL-3 experiments, she’d been stuck with an oversized chest herself. Norwegian girls trained their muscles to compensate; these poor women had only been swollen with DOLL-2 and left helpless.

The rest blurred. One moment they were moving in, the next running for their lives, bullets whistling overhead. Carter Evans had far more hired guns than anyone expected.

“We can’t abandon Idun!” Alvdis shouted as they threw themselves into tall grass.

“Too late now!” Trude barked. “You want to take on the whole gang? Allen Wright lied. They knew. Our only chance is making sure Hildegunn’s team makes it, or the whole op is fucked!”

Engines roared behind them. Alvdis risked a glance back. Two terrain buggies were tearing across the fields, dust clouds rising in their wake. The whine of Ethanol Radial Steam Engines carried on the wind. Cheap fuel, easy to maintain — every farm had them.

“Alvdis! We can’t outrun them. We take them here!” Trude snapped.

They dropped to their knees and raised rifles. A shot slammed into Alvdis’s chest, knocking her onto her back. Panic flared until she realized her Valborg Panser armor had held.

Trude was already firing, precise and merciless. Two thugs went down, one buggy flipping in a plume of dust. Alvdis rolled, brought her rifle up — too late. The second buggy outflanked them. Gunfire spat. A round caught Trude in the shoulder, spinning her down.

The buggy bore down on Alvdis. She fired, punching a hole through the driver. The vehicle lurched, slowing but not stopping, still thundering forward with lethal weight. Alvdis scrambled to her feet, but it was too late — the buggy slammed into her.

One of the thugs scrambled up from the ground, reaching for his rifle. Trude was on him before he could lift it, tackling him hard. He thrashed, but she rammed her helmet into his face again and again until he went limp.

Alvdis staggered upright and sprinted to the buggy. Trude tore the driver out with brute force, flinging him aside like a rag doll.

“Get the fuck in, Alvdis!” she barked, throwing herself into the passenger seat.

Alvdis tumbled into the back, and the buggy roared off. She twisted around, heart hammering, but there was no pursuit.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” she kept muttering. “Trude, we have to go back for Idun. We can’t leave her—”

“No. We are not,” Trude snapped, jamming the throttle forward. “If Jackson’s farm is anything like this, the whole op collapses. Don’t whine about it now, Alvdis. You went along with it. Too late to grow a conscience.”

The buggy chewed ground fast, carrying them to the Jackson farm. But what they found there was nothing like what they’d expected.

Nora was there. Pretty, doll-faced, blonde. Exactly like the footage. But something was off. Alvdis saw it in Heather and Maya’s eyes immediately. And it wasn’t just because Idun was missing.

Trude did the talking. Alvdis stayed silent. She listened as Trude spun her lie: Carter Evans’ farm had been heavily armed, an ambush, barely escaped alive. Idun had lost her temper, gotten reckless, compromised the mission. It wasn’t true, but it sounded believable. Too believable.

Arguments broke out at once. Heather and Maya demanded they go back for Idun. Hildegunn barked them down — Neo Dixie infantry was inbound, they had a herd of new hucows to escort, and time was running out.

Later, as they marched away from the farm, Alvdis pulled Heather aside.

“Did you meet stiff resistance too?” she asked.

Heather shook her head, face pale. “No. There was no resistance.”

“What? Nobody fought back?”

“They were all dead.”

Alvdis blinked. “Dead?”

“Bodies everywhere when we arrived,” Heather whispered. “Nora shot them. All of them. Guards, staff, anyone who moved. Somehow she got a gun and wiped them out.” She glanced nervously at Nora walking a few paces ahead, looking sweet and harmless with her big doe eyes and bouncing tits.

Alvdis stared too. Nora looked like a teenager playing dress-up. How?

“Something isn’t right,” Heather murmured. “She killed an entire gang like it was nothing. How did she even get captured? And the neighbor’s farms. She cleared those too.”

Alvdis exhaled, shaken. “Okay. So we’ve got a devil doll on the team now.”

Everything was unraveling. Heather and Maya clashed openly with Hildegunn, then commandeered the buggy. They roared off toward Carter Evans’ farm, determined to rescue Idun. Hildegunn fumed at the mutiny, but with no vehicle left, there was nothing she could do but march the hucows toward the extraction point.

The worst moment was breaking the news to Vieregg. Telling him Idun had been captured. Watching him crumble, collapse in despair. The raw pain on his face.

Alvdis’s chest tightened. In that moment, she knew: she could never replace what Idun and Vieregg had. She could play the seductress, the pornstar, the manipulator. But this? This was love. Only real love could cause a man such agony.

She held him, whispering reassurance. “Maya and Heather will get Idun out. They’re seasoned soldiers. They fought for years in the Queendom. They’ll manage.”

But her words curdled into mockery when the distress signal came through. Maya and Heather. Captured at Carter Evans’ farm.