Time Waits

Author's Note: I apologize for the odd spacing.  I spent over an hour manually fixing each and every line break, only to have the Edit page time out and lose everything.  It  has left me a broken shell of a man.

Prologue - A Glance Ahead

Jordan was getting impatient. She should've been here already.

The lunch hour was more than half over by the time Christine finally showed up. She sat down at a crowded cafeteria table and quietly ate her food, not talking to anyone there with her. Her face, once warm and radiant, was now sunken and tired, and she cast furtive glances around the room as she ate. A few months ago, she would have been wearing something bright and colorful, but now she wore drab, baggy clothing that wouldn't stand out and hid her features.

It almost made him laugh out loud. As if changing her appearance would help her.

The perfect opportunity arrived just after she'd finished her food. She stood to leave, and her tray brushed the soda can of one of the students sitting next to her. It rolled off the table and fell to the ground, and Christine flinched at the sound as though it had been a gunshot. A stuttering apology tumbled out of her mouth as she bent down to pick it up.

With an effort of will, Jordan stopped time.

He stood up and made his way through the still, quiet cafeteria, until he was standing directly behind Christine. She was frozen in her position, legs spread and upper body bent down, one hand on the fallen can. He hooked his thumbs into the gray pants she was wearing and pulled them down to her ankles, revealing an equally frumpy pair of white panties. These he rolled down just enough to get them out of the way.

Her round, perfect ass called out to him. Even after all the times he'd fucked her in these last few months, the sight of her naked flesh excited him as much as when he'd started. Perhaps even more than before, now that he knew just how wonderful it felt to be inside her.

Having sex while time was frozen like this was usually difficult, if not outright impossible. Inanimate objects could be moved freely, but nothing living. As he groped her butt cheeks they as were warm and soft as ever in his hands, but resisted being moved. He'd be unable to, say, use his fingers to spread apart her slit or stretch out her asshole.

But that wasn't a problem. Christine was an ungrateful slave, and a tardy one, but not disobedient. Not anymore. Wedged inside of each hole were the dildos he'd given her. He'd created them himself using a custom mold of his penis, making them as close to the real thing as he could.

He tapped the one filling her pussy, but decided against it. He'd already used that hole earlier in the morning, and it would still be packed full of his sperm. Anything that came from him remained immune to the time effect, and he wasn't in the mood for a slimy, gooey twat.

Her asshole, then. He eased the dildo out of it, leaving a Jordan shaped hole behind that he quickly filled with the real thing. Fucking her while time was stopped wasn't nearly as good as the normal way. There was no gentle involuntary pulsing of muscle around his shaft. There were none of the whimpers and cries she made whenever he raped her. And worse yet, none of the tricks and techniques she'd developed to please her master. All in all, it was closer to masturbation than sex. But Christine's asshole was still hot and tight, and it only took a few minutes of rough pounding for him to squirt his load into it.

Jordan pulled his limp dick out of Christine's ass, but he didn't replace the dildo; his slave needed a little punishment for showing up late. He headed for the lunch line, where it turned out to be his lucky day. One of the trays behind the counter held the last remnants of the hot dogs, now cold and soggy with grease. He plucked three of them out, basted them with ketchup and mustard, and returned to his pet.

Inserting all three hot dogs into her rectum proved no trouble at all, each slippery piece of meat sliding right in. Once all of them were inside her, he tugged her panties back into place and fixed her pants. From the outside, she looked exactly as she had before. Then he unzipped her backpack and dropped the dildo into it. The plastic wasn't particularly clean after spending all morning up her butt, and it was going to leave filthy stains on everything she'd been carrying in there, but that was her problem. One more reason for her to show up on time from now on.

Satisfied, Jordan went back to his seat, settled into roughly the same position he'd been in before, and let his grip on time relax.

As life and motion returned to the cafeteria, he watched Christine go rigid. She'd escaped all the immediate sensations of being ass fucked, but her sore rectum would make it obvious what had just happened. She winced a little, and a look of confusion flashed across her face before she concealed it. Jordan had to suppress a laugh: she was feeling those slimy hotdogs in her, but had no idea what they were yet.

The student whose can she'd knocked over asked her if she was alright. There was nothing improper about his words or tone, but he grinned as he spoke. Christine was quiet for a moment, then slowly shook her head in dismissal of the question. She returned the now empty soda can to the table, apologized again, and began leaving the cafeteria, waddling slightly. Behind her, the student said something to his companions and they all laughed.

“Hi, Christine,” Jordan said cheerfully, moving to intercept her. “You have a good lunch?”

“Y-yeah,” she said, eyes down. She knew she was in trouble, the little minx. She was probably going crazy wondering if he was done making her pay for it.

“Walk you to your next class?” he asked, smiling pleasantly at her, still thinking about those hot dogs rolling around inside her.

“I'd love that,” she said, giving him a warm smile that only he could tell was faked. She accepted his arm, and the two of them walked hand in hand through the hall, looking to the rest of the world like any other boyfriend and girlfriend.

Jordan led her to one of the quieter parts of the school, where everyone would still be in their classrooms, and then stilled time. He checked and double checked that the coast was clear: there was no one around to see them, and no one heading in their direction that would get there in the next few minutes.

His cock was already out when he let time flow again, and he immediately grabbed hold Christine's hair and used it to pull her down to her knees. She didn't struggle, passively letting him rub his dick against her cheek. “Look what your filthy asshole did to me, slave,” he told her. “Clean up your fucking mess.”

“B-but master,” Christine said, glancing around nervously. “We're... what if someone sees us?”

“So what if they do?” Jordan bluffed. “Everyone already knows what a dirty slut you are. If you don't want to offer them even more proof, you'd better suck me off quick before we get an audience.”

Christine didn't waste any more time arguing. She swallowed up his shaft, her warm tongue frantic and thorough as it danced over him, meticulously cleaning every trace of her recent anal rape off of her master. The slut had him hard again in seconds, and before long he was sighing in pleasure as she gulped down his sperm. Christine dutifully lapped the cum off of him when he was done, and then remained kneeling, teasing his soft and clean cock with that well trained tongue of hers.

Jordan would have happily let her guzzle even more of his seed, but the period was almost over, and it would be troublesome if anyone really did see them. He reluctantly let his cock slip out of her mouth, using the head to smear her full red lips with her own saliva before releasing her hair and allowing her to rise to her feet.

The hallway was beginning to fill up with students as he embraced his girlfriend and slave, his dick safely back in his pants. “I expect you to be on time when I see you after school, slave,” he whispered into her ear.

“Yes, master,” she whispered back. “I will, I swear!”

“Good,” he told her. “If you're late, I'll make you eat those hot dogs.”

He stilled time briefly, just so he could pull back and catch her disgusted expression at hearing that. But when time resumed, she only said “yes, master, I promise to be good,” her tone meek and respectful.

Their embrace ended, and Jordan pulled away from her. “See you after school, Christine!” he said in a normal volume.

She nodded and smiled at him. “I can't wait!” As she turned to leave, he couldn't resist giving her a smack on the butt, right on that sore stuffed asshole of hers. She jumped a little, but didn't turn back to look at him, just scurried down the hall to her next class. They were far enough away that she was going to be late, and would get scolded by her teacher yet again.

Jordan only had a minute before his own class started, but that wasn't going to be a problem for him. He watched Christine hurry away, already pondering what he'd do to her after school. This was going to be another good day.

Part One – The Beginning of the End

Chapter One

Christine was the smartest, prettiest, most perfect girl in the whole wide world.

Jordan had known this fact all his life, since back when they'd just been little kids playing in each others' backyards. Even then, she'd been his best friend, the one he always had the most fun with, the one he cared about more than anyone else. Puberty had strengthened those feelings, turned them into a fire that raged every time he looked at her, but the core of it all, his unconditional love for her, had been there from the beginning.

Christine had never felt the same way, though. He'd known that all his life too. She'd been his best friend, but he'd just been a friend to her, nothing more, and as they grew older, even that seemed to fall away. She hung out less and less with him, and more and more with her female friends. And when she was around boys...

“Out of the way, faggot,” said Danny as he casually pushed Jordan to the side, banging his shoulder against the wall of lockers. “Hey Christine!”

Christine turned away from her own locker to look at him. She wore a beatific smile, her long golden hair falling down across her shoulders. She was taller than most girls, with a chest that looked so wonderfully round and soft and... Jordan quickly looked down, blushing. She probably hadn't noticed him staring at her tits, right? Of course not. She barely knew that he existed anymore.

“My cousin's coming over tonight,” Danny told her, getting right up next to her, only a few inches separating them. “And he's bringing beer.” He grinned. “Lots of beer. It's gonna be a real fucking good party. Why don't you come on by?”

Jordan's heart ached as he watched the love of his life smile at Danny. Yeah, those were the kinds of guys she hung around with now. Musclebound jocks like Danny from the football team, who'd made Jordan's life hell for years. A bunch of loudmouth, arrogant assholes full of swagger and shitty cologne.

Meanwhile, Jordan was... the skinny little nerd no one liked. He had it all: glasses, bad complexion, greasy black hair, the strength of a kitten and the grace of a wet fart. He was just a short, weak, dorky loser. It was no wonder Christine didn't want anything to do with him.

“I'd really like to,” she was saying, “but I have a big Economics test next week, and I have to study for it.”

Danny snorted. “Come on,” he said derisively, “who gives a fuck about Economics? Blow it off and come have fun with me instead.”

“I can't,” Christine said, but she was still smiling.

Jordan closed his locker and turned away, leaving them to their flirting. He didn't have the social standing to attend any parties, let alone one with some of the most popular guys in school. The best he could hope for was to make it through the day unnoticed, and that was rare. It was practically routine by now for Danny to push him around while they were in the hall, or toss his backpack in the trash while he was studying, or do any of the other stupid, petty bullshit that made him and all his friends laugh like hyenas.

He exited the school and walked through the parking lot, where many of the other students were climbing into their cars. Though he was eighteen and already had a license, Jordan's parents didn't make nearly enough money for their son to have one, another social mark against him. Maybe if he'd had wheels he could've impressed Christine with them, but the only time he was ever in the drivers seat was when his mother needed him to fetch something from the grocery store for dinner.

At least his house was within walking distance, and he didn't have to take the school bus. Jordan left the school grounds and began walking down the sidewalk, his mind still fixated on Christine. It wasn't like he was some weirdo stalker or something. He knew her. He loved her. If she was his girlfriend, he'd give her the sun, the moon, and the stars just to make her smile. He'd treat her the way she deserved, not like those football jerks.

He imagined himself going out on a date with Christine, picking her up in his car and driving her to some fancy restaurant. She'd be wearing a tight, slinky dress, and she'd smile when he'd compliment it, not think he was being weird or creepy. They'd eat fancy food and drink fancy wine, and he'd pay for all of it himself. And when they were done and back in the car she'd lean in close and ask him to drive her somewhere quiet, somewhere she could thank him for the delicious meal, and maybe even have another...

The blaring of the horn knocked Jordan out of his daydream. He looked around, momentarily disoriented. What had he been doing? He looked down and saw pavement. Right, he was on his way home, and he'd started crossing the str- The horn sounded again, louder and closer. Jordan looked in its direction, and saw the truck.

It was only a few feet away, almost close enough to reach out and touch. He could clearly make out the driver, a gray haired man frantically pounding on the horn. The truck was skidding to a stop, but not quickly enough. In that instant, Jordan instinctively understood that he was dead. He had no time to run, or scream, or even think. This was the end.

Inches away from him, the truck stopped.

Jordan fell backwards, legs shaking, breath coming out in wheezing gasps. He... he was alive! He scrambled on all fours towards the sidewalk, away from where he'd been certain his life was over. He was panting like he'd run a marathon as he hauled himself to his feet, adrenaline coursing through him.

It only took a few seconds for the embarrassment to catch up to him. He must have looked like an absolute idiot, falling over like that, crawling away. Everyone was probably laughing at him. He glanced around, expecting to see mocking, scornful looks.

And that's when Jordan finally realized that it wasn't just the truck that had stopped.

The entire world around him was frozen. Everyone and everything he could see was perfectly still and quiet, as though someone had the pause button on the universe. Jordan spun around, taking it all in. The cars stopped in neat rows up and down the streets. Pedestrians in mid step. A sparrow hanging motionless in the sky, its wings outstretched. His breath caught as he stared at it all, and for a moment he was as speechless and unmoving as everything else.

And then it all started back up again. People resumed walking and cars resumed moving, their sounds filling the air again. The sparrow flew away. And the truck screeched to a halt, plowing right through the crosswalk where he'd been. The other cars flowed around it as the truck driver glanced wildly from side to side, sagging with relief when he saw Jordan was unharmed. Then his face twisted with anger, and he shouted some expletives at the boy as he hit the gas, the truck lurching back into motion.

For a long time, Jordan stood there transfixed as the other pedestrians walked around him. What... what had just happened?

Chapter Two

Jordan stared at the running faucet, trying to will it to stop.

He'd made it back home without any further incident, careful to look both ways before crossing any streets, double and triple checking. When his mother saw his expression, she'd laughed and asked him if he'd seen a ghost. Jordan had blurted out some half baked lie as he fled to his room.

Time had stopped. He'd consumed more than enough science fiction to recognize the phenomenon. But why? And how? As he ran through his memories, he couldn't help thinking that somehow he was the cause. It had, after all, saved his life. The chance of that being a coincidence was almost as ridiculous as the idea of time freezing in the first place.

But if he was the cause... could he do it again? Sitting alone in his room, he'd tried to focus, but he'd quickly realized that the foolishness of that idea. Even if he managed to stop time again, how would he know? So he'd gone to the bathroom instead and turned on the faucet.

After several minutes of trying to somehow command the water and everything else to stop, he felt like a complete idiot. This was ridiculous. He'd probably just imagined the whole thing in the first place anyway. When you were in danger, people said it felt like time was slowing down, right? That's all it had been. He'd been panicking, and it had felt like time had stopped, but it hadn't, of course, not really. Time wasn't something that a person could just manipulate. And even if it was, that wouldn't be something a loser like him could ever do.

Jordan watched the water stream out of the faucet and down into the drain. If it really did stop, what would that even look like? He imagined putting his hand under the faucet to catch it, the water slowing down until it was just a set of individual drops, each hanging in place. He tried to visualize the effect. If he could just... make all the drops stand still...

The water stopped.

It was only for a second, but he saw it. He saw it freeze, heard all the background noise around him go quiet. And then it all came back, and the water resumed flowing.

Jordan clutched the sink, dizzy with excitement. He'd done it! He focused on the water again, trying to recapture that feeling, and this time it only took a few seconds. He tried it again, and again, the effect coming a little easier each time.

Each stop lasted barely any time at all. It had been much longer with the truck, right? He tried to hold onto it, force time to stay still, and managed to keep it frozen for a full two seconds. The next time was four. Then seven. It was almost like carrying a weight in his head. If he let go, it would fall and time would resume, but once he got used to the feeling, it took less and less effort to just keep holding onto it.

Jordan didn't know how long he practiced the technique. The clock said it was two in the morning when he stopped, but clocks didn't mean much anymore. He practiced until he could stop time, still it, every time he tried. He could hold it longer and longer, the weight feeling lighter every time.

He collapsed into bed, exhausted and exhilarated. He, Jordan Seeler, the nobody that everyone picked on, was... was a superhero! He couldn't tell people about his power, of course. If he was lucky, he'd go to sleep one night and wake up as a lab rat in some government facility. If he was unlucky, they'd just vivisect him instead.

No, his power would have to remain a secret, but that was fine. He could do anything now, anything he wanted. The entire world was his oyster. As he drifted off, the question finally entered his mind: what did he want?

Chapter Three

“H-hi Christine,” Jordan stammered.

“Oh, hey Jordan,” said the love of his life, glancing at him without stopping. “What's up?”

Despite getting only a few hours sleep, Jordan had nearly jumped out of bed when he woke up, bursting with energy. It was a whole new world now, and he couldn't wait to enjoy it. That brimming confidence had lasted roughly forty five minutes, the time it had taken him to run into Christine on their way to school.

“Um, I...” He searched for the words, feeling suddenly like the same old worthless Jordan again. If there was anyone in the world he wanted to impress, it was her, but how? He trusted her enough to tell her about what had happened, but she probably wouldn't even believe him. Could he do something to prove it? “Uh... I... “

Christine watched him stammer, slight confusion in her eyes. She probably thought he was acting weird. He was acting weird. “I... need to get going,” she said slowly, though not unkindly. “Class starts soon. Why don't we talk later, okay?”

No! No no no! He wasn't going to screw this up! He just had to figure out the right thing to say. And then inspiration struck. He was going about this all wrong. He had all the time in the world!

Jordan stilled time.

It took barely any effort. It was even easier than it had been last night. And now he had as much time as he needed to think about what to say. He paced back and forth on the silent street, weighing his options. What if he just demonstrated his power to her? Like, made flowers and chocolates appear in his hands. That was what girls liked, right? But the closest grocery store was several blocks away. Even if he could stop time, he still had to walk. It would take a good twenty or thirty minutes to get there and back, and he wasn't sure he could maintain control for that long. If Christine saw him vanish right in front of her, she'd definitely start talking about that, and from there it was only a hop, a skip, and a jump to the vivisection table.

So trying to share his secret with her right now was too risky. Maybe it would be better just to talk with her normally for now, and then meet her after school. Yeah, he could bring her over to his house or something, somewhere private, and show her what he could do. It would become their little secret.

Satisfied, he got ready to restore time, but hesitated, looking at Christine. She looked so beautiful right now, her long hair frozen as the wind blew it. Without thinking, he took a step closer to her. They'd barely spent any time together the last few years, and even when they did, he couldn't risk looking at her, really looking at her, without her thinking he was some kind of weirdo. But now he could admire her soft, kind, perfect face all he wanted.

He reached out with trembling fingers, and felt the warm skin of her cheek. He'd never dared to do anything like that before. “I love you, Christine,” he told her, stroking her face gently. “I love you more than anything.”

Jordan stepped even closer, breathing in her scent. God, he just wanted to hug her right now, to wrap her in his arms and tell her that she was his and he was hers. He couldn't do that yet, but soon. Once she knew how special she was, she would realize that he was way better for her than any football jock.

He realized that he was staring at her chest, and quickly looked away, blushing. “Sorry!” he blurted out before catching himself. He didn't need to apologize. He could look at her as much as he wanted when he was like this. And what was the harm? It wasn't like he was some pervert; he loved her.

Christine was wearing a pink t-shirt with bright yellow flowers on the front, and when he looked closely, he could see the very faint outline of her bra underneath. He stared at it, drinking in the sight like a man dying of thirst. She'd never know if he... if he touched them, right? It would be only natural for her to get upset if he did it in real life or whatever, but if she never knew it happened, it was like a victimless crime.

Jordan took a second to check that his control over time remained steady. He could hold the weight of it without any conscious effort by now. It would be really really bad if he slipped up. For Christine's sake, he'd do this right.

He slowly reached for her t-shirt, grabbing the hem with both hands and gently lifting. He half expected her or someone else to start yelling at him, but nothing happened as he rolled her shirt up, exposing a white bra. It took more than a full minute for his nervous fingers to figure out the latch on the back, but then it came free, revealing smooth curves.

Jordan stared in wonder at Christine's bare breasts. They were absolutely perfect, without any blemish at all. He wished he could say that to her without it being seen as creepy. He put his hands on them almost reverently, savoring the warm rich feeling as they filled his palms, the way her nipples rubbed his skin. He looked up at her frozen face. “I love you, Christine,” he said softly, gently massaging her chest, and leaned in for a kiss. Her lips were soft and wet.

He could feel his cock straining against his pants as he brought one hand down across her smooth stomach and unbuttoned her jeans. There was nothing wrong with admiring a little more of her, right? He slid his hand into her pants, beneath her underwear, seeking the warmth between her thighs. Jordan nearly came right then and there as he felt her on his fingers, warm and fuzzy. “You are so, so beautiful,” he told her, his other hand still playing with her breasts.

Jordan tried to pull her jeans down, eager to see her pussy, but the way Christine was standing stopped them from going down more than few inches. He tried to position her leg, and found to his surprise that it wouldn't move. It was as though it was on a very small and very tight rubber band; there was a little bit of give, and then no further, and when he let go it shifted back. He tried her arms and found similar results.

He left her standing there, upper half bare and jeans undone, while he went and tested this new discovery further. None of the people around were any more responsive than Christine. Even the squirrel he found wouldn't budge. He tried to pluck some blades of grass out of the ground, and had no luck there either. Anything living wouldn't move.

His face red, Jordan tried one final experiment, sticking his hand back into Christine's pants. Could he... no, her pussy lips were as stationary as the rest of her, and rebuffed his finger. Jordan tried to swallow down his disappointment as he buttoned her jeans back up and fixed her bra and shirt. So his power had limits. It wasn't that big of a deal. It's not like he would have really done anything to her anyway. Of course not.

Really, he told himself, this limitation was a good thing. He wasn't the type of person who'd take advantage of someone in the first place, but now that he knew it was impossible, he wouldn't even feel tempted.

Not that it would be impossible impossible, he thought. If he knew what he was doing, he could probably... he shook away the thought. That wasn't him. He was one of the good guys. He got back into roughly the same position he'd been in when he'd frozen time, and let himself release the weight.

“Yeah, let's talk later,” he said, and gave her a thumbs up. Christine frowned, shifting her shoulders and tugging at her shirt. She must have been felt that her clothing had shifted a little, but she had no way of knowing why. He was safe.

“Right...” she said absently, still fidgeting. “I'll... I'll see you at school, Jordan.”

Jordan watched her walk away, admiring the way her hips swayed. His own hand had been between those gorgeous legs. And if he'd really wanted, he could have done more. She was lucky that it was a nice guy like him who had this power.

An unpleasant thought struck him. He knew that he'd only ever use his power responsibly, but Christine wouldn't. If he did tell her about it, she was smart enough to see the ways it could be abused. He trusted her, but could he be certain she trusted him? At the very least, he wouldn't be able to do anything like he'd done today again. She'd noticed that something had happened, and if she'd known what he could do, she'd have put two and two together immediately.

No, he wouldn't tell her after all. Not yet.

Chapter Four

It was weird to have a girlfriend who didn't know she was your girlfriend.

It had been about five weeks since Jordan had discovered what he could do, and for the most part, his life hadn't changed. If he did something drastic with his powers, like go make millions at the poker table, that would just get him noticed and raise questions. He had to be subtle about things. He had gone ahead and grown a little stockpile of cash, mostly taken from random wallets and cash registers. Only a few dollars here and there, but he already had a couple thousand stashed away if he ever needed it.

And he had something far better than cash too.

Jordan sucked hard on Christine's left nipple, his tongue flicking over the little bud. She was always so delicious. He stuck a few fingers in her mouth, stroking her tongue as he pretended that she was sucking on them. Then he slid his hand down her butt crack and played with her asshole, caressing the tight rosebud with his slick fingers. His girlfriend raised no protest about any of this as she sat motionless in math class, exposed and lovely. He'd removed her chair so he could get to her backside, leaving her sitting on empty air as he enjoyed her.

This was one of his “Christine breaks”, as he'd started calling them. He took them several times a day. He could leave his classroom, play with her, and be back without anyone noticing. His reluctance about using his power this way had faded quickly. It wasn't like he was hurting her. If she was able to feel what he was doing, and she wasn't, he'd just be making her feel good. What was wrong with that?

He couldn't do anything too serious to her anyway, not while she was frozen. But he could taste her skin and enjoy her contours, and imagine what it would be like when she was “awake”. He would be ready. He'd studied every inch of her in preparation. He'd even managed to catch her while she was showering after PE a couple times, where he'd gotten a full look at her. He'd embraced her wet body, his cock rock hard against her leg. He'd gotten so excited that he'd actually cum, his load spraying against her legs and stomach. He'd left it there, knowing the shower would wash it away as soon as time came back.

It wasn't the only time she'd come in contact with his sperm. During lunch, he often jacked off to the sight of her naked form, then sprinkled a few drops of it into her food. It wasn't like she'd notice it, after all, and it was incredibly sexy to think of her gobbling his load every day. Once he'd gotten the privilege of finishing directly into her mouth. She'd been tilting a bottle of soda up to her lips, and he'd stopped at just the right time to catch her mouth half open. He'd sat on the cafeteria table, shot most of his load between her lips, and wiped the rest off of her. She'd definitely noticed the taste that time, but she'd just assumed the soda had gone bad and tossed it out. No harm, no foul.

Christine wasn't the only target for Jordan's abilities. Someone had keyed Danny's new car and slashed his tires in broad daylight while it sat in the school parking lot. The jock had been absolutely furious when he first saw it, and Jordan had been forced to stop time just to get the laughter out of his system without anyone noticing. But he'd realized that he didn't particularly care about Danny anymore, or any of the other bullies that had once dominated his life. Those assholes could go do whatever they wanted; Jordan had Christine now.

His relationship with her wasn't perfect. Jordan was all too aware that she couldn't be much more than a masturbatory aid for him, and he was still nothing at all to her. He wanted what they had together to be so much more! Several times he almost came clean with her and told her everything, but he always held back. Once she knew, the “Christine breaks” would have to end. And what if she found out just how amazing he was, and still didn't want anything to do with nerdy Jordan Seeler? He couldn't risk it.

He'd even started avoiding her lately, something he'd never thought he'd do. It was just so hard to be near her, knowing how beautiful she was inside and out. It was only a matter of time before he blurted out something stupid. He was worried that she'd already started to suspect something was going on. She'd actually approached him a few times, asking him if he wanted to talk. Once he would have leapt at the chance, certain that it was a sign that she was interested in him, but he knew better now.

As he left a trail of kisses on the side of her neck, he reflected that the problem was that she already knew him, had known him for more than a decade. If he hadn't gotten out of the friend zone by now, maybe not even being a superhero would do the trick. This would be so much easier if she somehow knew about his power without knowing who it was attached to. Like... like Lois Lane falling in love with Superman before finding out that he was also boring Clark Kent.

That was it! Jordan grinned as he realized that there was a simple solution to all of this. He just had to make her fall for Jordan the Incredible before she knew he was also Jordan the Nerdy. And to do that... he nibbled her neck some more, then kissed her cheek. “Christine, my love, I'm taking you on a date tonight!” he told her excitedly.

Part Two - The Loss of Innocence

Chapter Five

Christine sighed. This homework was going to be the death of her. She'd been at it for nearly two hours, and there was still a mountain of it to go. She rubbed her eyes and resisted the urge to pick up her phone and see what was going on in the rest of the world. Work first, play later.

It didn't help that she'd been feeling off all last month, and it was beginning to mess with her focus. She kept having these weird spells. She'd be sitting in class, and everything would be perfectly normal, and then... then nothing. Nothing at all would happen, but she'd suddenly feel different somehow. Vaguely dirty, like she needed a shower. And also kind of aroused? It made no sense.

She'd tried telling Nadine about it, hoping it was just some totally normal phenomenon that everyone went through, but her best friend hadn't understood what she was talking about at all. Eventually Christine had just laughed the whole thing off as a joke and changed the subject. Maybe Becky would know something about it next time she visited.

It was a typical evening at the Summers household. She'd gotten home, taken their dog Bailey out for a walk, studied for next week's History exam, had some of Dad's “famous” meatloaf for dinner, and then gone upstairs to her room for more studying and homework. She'd always heard about seniors getting to relax and slack off during their last year of school. Apparently none of them had AP classes.

Her phone buzzed, and she grabbed it without thinking, but sighed in disappointment and dropped it back on the desk a moment later. It was only that creep Danny. If she'd been more like her sister, she would've just slugged him in the nose by now, but Christine didn't possess the same confidence that Becky always exuded. She kept hoping that if she just turned him down politely every time he made a crude pass at her, eventually he'd get the picture and leave her alone. But the jerk didn't know when to quit, and she was too shy to tell him directly.

Christine compared her sheet of paper to the textbook, checking that she'd answered all the questions, then nodded in satisfaction and added it to her bookbag by the desk. She scooted her chair back and extended one arm towards the ceiling in a long, lazy stretch. Another assignment down, and just a few more to go. Maybe she'd have a little time to relax downstairs before bed after all.

Speaking of shyness, she really needed to corner Jordan soon and find out what the heck was going on with him. He'd been acting weird for the last month too, staring at her when he thought she wasn't looking. Acting extra weird, really. He'd been increasingly awkward with her for years now. He was one of her oldest friends, but ever since puberty, it was like he saw her as a girl first and a friend second. Whenever they hung out, instead of relaxing and having fun with her like he used to, he'd just be a ball of nerves the whole time, as though a single wrong move would make her hate him. It was exhausting to deal with, and the further they drifted apart, the more awkward he became whenever they did see each other.

It had probably been her fault somehow. She should have made more of an effort to get him to understand that he didn't need to impress her. Beneath the shyness he was a sweet boy, and she regretted that she hadn't been a better friend to him. Having to deal with jerks like Danny only made her appreciate decent guys like him even more.

Was it possible that he was acting weird because he liked her? Like liked her? No, that was silly. The jocks might fixate on her for her looks, but she didn't really have anything else going for her, and Jordan knew that. She wasn't as smart as him, or adventurous like her sister, or funny like Nadine, or possess any other appealing traits. She was just shy, dull Christine, who did nothing but study all the time.

But what if he liked her anyway? She blushed a little as she thought about it. That wouldn't be such a bad thing...

“Work first, play later,” she said out loud, reminding herself. She had to get through this homework. And after that, she'd give him a call, sort this whole mess out.

Suddenly she felt the entire world sort of... stutter. It was like watching a laggy video, except it was reality doing it. One moment she was working out a chemistry problem, and then reality lurched, and everything had gone dark.

Christine gasped in surprise, discovering as she did that there was something in her mouth, muffling her. What was going on?! She tried to lift a hand to her face, to pull off whatever was blocking her sight, but her arm came up short, and she heard her desk rattle in response. She realized then that each of her wrists had something knotted around them, a thin soft material with a strangely familiar texture. A pair of her shirts?

Whatever they were, their other ends seemed to be wrapped around the legs of the desk. There was enough slack for her to kick the chair away and stand up, but as she did, the world lurched again. When it came back, she could feel similar articles tied around her ankles, and her legs could no longer move.

Some part of her was still convinced that this was just a dream, that she'd fallen asleep at her desk and her brain had concocted this wild fantasy to express her anxiety over schoolwork. But the rest of her was filled with a growing dread that this was all too real, and something horrible was about to happen. Christine tried to scream out for help, but whatever was in her mouth reduced her cries to quiet groans.

She felt a pair of hands on her shoulders, pushing her upper body down until it smacked against the smooth surface of her desk. Before she could even begin to resist, reality skipped for a third time, and something was tight around her neck, pinning her there.

The awareness that there was an intruder in her room, and that she was all but trapped and helpless, gave her a surge of adrenaline. She bucked and twisted, trying to take advantage of the slack in her bonds. But as she struggled, reality stuttered again, not just once, but over and over. Each time a squirming arm or leg drew closer to the desk, the slack would suddenly disappear, as if whatever was holding her had somehow been removed and retied.

All this happened in the span of just a few seconds. By the time it sank into her mind that her frantic struggling was only making things worse, and she tried to correct for it, it was too late. Her legs were now spread wide, ankles against the desk legs, without a hint of slack remaining. Likewise, her arms were at her sides, flat against the top of the desk.

She felt the intruder's hands again. They were no longer pushing. Instead, they ran over her body eagerly, exploring it. Christine could hear heavy male breathing behind her, and the hapless teen whimpered in her bondage. She knew what was going to happen now. The only thing that could happen in a situation like this. But this was impossible! Just a few minutes ago, she'd been doing her homework, safe at home in her own bedroom. Even now, she could hear the sounds of her parents moving around downstairs, the muffled noise of the television, Bailey barking at a car passing by. How could this be?!

Every molecule of her being screamed out in denial of what was going on, but reality marched on. Denial didn't stop the intruder from rolling her shirt up and over her chest, exposing her bare back and bra strap. It didn't stop him from undoing the clasp with a single smooth motion, as though he'd done it a million times before.

Christine shuddered. She knew all the facts about sex. She'd gotten an A in Health class just like all the others. But knowing wasn't the same thing as experiencing. And when it came to experience, she had none. It wasn't that she didn't like boys. There were several that she even found quite cute, and would picture sometimes when she was alone at night. But everyone around her seemed to have decided on their own that her looks and grades put her out of their league. Christine couldn't care less about that sort of thing, but conversation was a two way street, and Jordan was far from the only guy it had become impossible to talk with normally after hitting puberty. They'd just stammer and look away, and she'd come away feeling like she'd done something cruel to them.

The only boys willing to interact with her anymore were the dumb jocks and playboys like Danny, the ones who saw her as a trophy to try and win. The types she wanted nothing to do with. So in the end, she just didn't bother with boys at all. There was always more homework to be done, or an exam to study for, or her girlfriends to hang out with. She'd told herself that it was only for now, that once she got to college things could be different.

Everything was different now.

She felt her assailant pull her unclasped bra out from under her, and then his hands returned, cupping her now bare breasts. Christine had heard from her girlfriends that this was supposed to feel pleasant, but it was nothing of the sort. Her assailant groped and squeezed her mounds as if he was trying to make them pop, his nails digging into her skin. She shivered as his fingers found her nipples, prodding and pinching them.

If she could manage to scream for help, there was no way her parents wouldn't hear her. She tried to push the gag out of her mouth with her tongue, but he'd taped her lips shut. She kept trying, having few other options, and realized to her disgust that she recognized the smooth fabric: her underwear. Somehow he'd stuffed a pair of her own underwear into her mouth. And from the foul taste, it wasn't even a clean pair.

Still struggling with the panty gag, Christine had to endure his painful groping of her chest for several minutes. The intruder moved closer to her, until she could feel the bulge in his crotch against her butt. She groaned at the contact, shaking her head. He started to dry hump her through her clothes, hands clenching her poor breasts with every thrust. Christine felt sick.

She knew it was going to get much worse, and reality didn't disappoint. His hands swept up and down her back for a minute, fingernails tracing random patterns over her skin, then slid over her sides and down to her hips, where he began unbuttoning her pants. She squirmed, trying to stop him, but after another stutter her pants were unbuttoned and unzipped. Inch by inch, he tugged them down, exposing her underwear. He spent a few more minutes stroking her cheeks and grinding his erection against her, and then the inevitable happened. Her panties were pulled down, and her last defense was gone.

Her face grew hot with shame at the thought of a complete stranger seeing her private parts. Only her family and her gynecologist had ever seen her naked, and that had been nothing like this. Nothing in all her life had even come close to preparing Christine for this, for being pinned down and stripped naked in her own bedroom. She made a wordless, begging plea through the gag, hoping the intruder would understand. This couldn't really happen to her. She'd been a good girl all her life. She'd never treated anyone poorly. Life couldn't really be this cruel.

Something hot and hard pressed against her slit.

Christine had always known that the first time would hurt. All her more experienced girlfriends had agreed on that part. No matter how gentle a lover was, no matter how slow he went, there was always some pain involved.

He was neither gentle nor slow.

Christine screamed as the pain of being violated ripped through her. She was dry and tight, and there was no way his entire thick member could be crammed into her on the first thrust, but that was clearly his intention. He grabbed her breasts for leverage and pulled, thrusting his waist forward at the same time. Inch by inch, the head of his dick worked its way through her narrow channel, lubricated only by her virginal blood.

She'd never felt anything so awful in her life. Years ago, she'd broken her wrist after a nasty spill on her bike, and at the time she'd thought that was the worst thing anyone could experience. But this... it wasn't just the sheer torture of her insides being forced to stretch to accommodate the thick intruder. It was the nauseating knowledge that the source of her pain was some stranger's hot, sweaty, filthy penis violating the most intimate part of her body. It was the shame of being treated as a piece of meat, something that could be pinned down and used without her consent. And it was the anguish of knowing that no matter what happened afterwards, this would always be her first time. As Christine howled through her gag, she was no longer trying to signal for help. She was just voicing her complete and utter misery.

After several long, torturous minutes that felt more like hours, his hips slapped against her cheeks. He was fully inside her, his fingers digging into her chest as he forced the last few millimeters in. Almost immediately, she felt him pulse, and warm liquid began spraying her insides. Christine's stomach turned, and she started making mental calculations. Her last period had begun on the 26th, and this was the 9th, which meant... which meant she might get pregnant. The thought brought with it an overwhelming wave of nausea, and Christine nearly vomited.

She was brought back to the present by her rapist's dick sliding out of her. Her insides felt impossibly stretched, and in her mind's eye her vagina was a gaping wound. Was it finally over? No. He began to push back into her, his dick already growing stiff again. Tears dripped down Christine's cheeks as she realized that her rape was only beginning.

With the added lubrication of his semen, he could move more easily now, and he began to thrust in and out with the same violent energy he'd used before. Christine's pussy felt like a punching bag as he pounded her hard and fast, her body twitching with each impact. She couldn't tell which was worse: the sickening feel of his shaft and head scraping against her walls when he pulled out, or the agony of being stretched out a little further when he forced himself back in. All she knew was that each thrust hurt worse than the last, her battered insides only growing more sore and tender as time went on.

The desk thumped against the wall in rhythm with his rough, frenzied movements. Christine pulled desperately at her bonds, trying with everything she had to break free. Once she felt the material around her right wrist rip, and she was able to move it a couple inches, but almost immediately reality stuttered and a new makeshift rope was there.

He leaned over her, and she felt his hot breath on her neck, and then he began to kiss her there, his slimy tongue probing her skin. He forced her shirt up even further so he could leave more disgusting kisses on her shoulder and back. Meanwhile, his hands felt like they were everywhere at once, kneading her breasts, stroking her hair, running over her butt and legs and sides. The way he was violating her personal space, turning every part of her body into something for him to explore and enjoy regardless of what she wanted, felt almost as bad as his cock pounding her.

Christine didn't know whether to be sad or relieved when she felt him spurt into her again. She was unhappy but not surprised when he kept going, attacking her flesh with tongue and fingers until he grew stiff inside her again. By the time his cock went soft and stayed that way, there were four loads of semen dripping out of her slit and down her leg.

He didn't say anything before he left. The world just skipped a beat again, and she found herself unbound, no longer blindfolded or gagged, splayed across her desk. Even the sweat and cum stains on the floor were gone, and the room smelled of disinfectant.

To Christine's surprise, her pussy was red and sore, but looked otherwise normal when she examined it with a mirror. She hobbled out of her room on shaking legs and into the bathroom. She did her best to clean her insides with some toilet paper, wincing at the pain that even light contact caused. It wouldn't be enough to stop her from getting pregnant, she knew, but she had to try.

A knock on the bathroom door made her jump. “Everything alright?” came her mother's voice from behind the door. “You've been up in your room an awful long time. I thought you were going to come downstairs and watch some TV with us once the homework was done.”

Christine opened her mouth to tell her mother everything that had happened, but hesitated. If she said something, she couldn't take it back. There would be police, and an investigation. They would ask her questions. And what would she tell them? She'd neither seen nor heard her assailant. And her story of how it had happened... even now, having lived it, it still seemed ridiculous to her. They would never believe her. They would assume that she was lying, trying to cover something up, or maybe just mentally ill.

And it would be news. The police weren't supposed to disclose that sort of thing of thing to the public, but they talked to their families, and their families included kids at her school. That's why everybody knew that Rich had been busted back in October for trying to buy beer with a fake ID, and that Ellen had been expelled two years ago because she'd been making money selling perverts underage photos of herself.

Within a few days, every single student and teacher would know that she'd been raped, and that she'd spun some crazy story about it. They'd never look at her the same way again.

Christine couldn't change the past. Going to the police wouldn't undo what had happened to her. It would just make her life hell. It was as simple as that.

“Everything's fine, Mom,” she called out. “Just more homework than usual tonight. Still got some left.”

“Oh, my poor Chrissy,” said her mother sympathetically. “If you ever need help with any of it, you can come see me or Dad about it, okay? I know we're just a pair of doddering old fogeys, but we'll do what we can.”

“Thanks, Mom. I will.”

“Goodnight honey.”

“Goodnight.”

Christine listened to her mother head back downstairs. She stayed in the bathroom for a long while, thinking about everything and nothing at the same time. What had happened tonight was terrible, but it was over. She had to move on with her life.

**********

Jordan whooped for joy as he jogged through the empty streets. That had been... that had been amazing!

He cupped his hands to his mouth. “I got to fuck Christine Summers's virgin pussy!” he bellowed, and listened to the sound echo around him. “Four creampies!”

There was no chance anyone would hear him, of course, not while time was frozen. But he just had to say something. It was too incredible not to.

Christine had been a virgin. He'd never even considered that might be the case. He'd always assumed that she had boyfriends left and right. And maybe she did, but none of them had ever gotten to do what he just had.

And four times, too! His dick ached from the exertion, probably way more than her pussy did right now. It had been super sore since he'd first taken her virginity. Jordan felt a little ashamed at the memory. Not over what he'd done, but how long it had lasted. He'd been so excited at what was going on, at the thrill of finally losing his virginity and the surprise of hers, that he'd cum on the very first thrust. He hoped she didn't think less of him for it.

But that was okay, he told himself. He'd made up for it afterward. He'd gone all out with her, eager to make her cum as many times as possible and make their first time together even more amazing for her than it was for him. He wasn't certain how many he'd managed, but from the way she kept moaning, he figured it must have been at least a dozen times. And as for him... “Four fucking times,” he breathed, grinning.

This had been a fantastic idea. No more shy, bumbling Jordan. He'd been bold and confident with her, like the guys she was into. Sure, what he'd done was technically rape, but not in the ways that mattered. Everything he'd done was out of love, and as long as she ended up loving him back, what was the problem? He knew the score: girls all said they wanted nice guys, guys like Jordan, but it was the bad boys they were really into. What they all wanted deep down was someone who'd pin them down and fuck them hard.

Well, Jordan was going to keep giving Christine exactly what she wanted. He needed to be even more confident around her in the future. Take the lead, let her know that she could trust and follow him. Don't ask, just take. Don't request, just command. He'd sweep her off her feet, and show her that he was the only man for her. Jordan knew how these things worked. In no time at all, he'd have her addicted to his cock, if she wasn't already. She'd love him so deeply, she wouldn't even care that he was little dorky Jordan.

Christine was definitely his girlfriend now. He could take her again anytime he wanted, as much as he wanted. It was a shame he couldn't tell her about it himself.

He stopped abruptly, considering. He couldn't tell her directly, but there was more than one way to talk to her. He let out one last whoop and resumed heading home, this time at a slower walk. A little time for his junk to heal, that was all he needed. And then the real fun could begin.

Chapter Six

The next day passed uneventfully for Christine. She was quiet as she listened to her friends chatter around her, finding it difficult to have any investment in their discussions. It was all boys and fashion and fluff, and while a day ago she would've happily joined in, now it all just seemed so pointless. It didn't take long for her friends to notice her silence, but she deflected their questions, blaming her behavior on a lack of sleep.

It wasn't a lie, even if it was far from the whole truth. It had taken her a very long time to get to sleep last night. Even when she had, there had been terrible, vicious nightmares, her mind replaying what had happened to her over and over. When morning came, she'd felt more exhausted than when she'd gone to bed.

She couldn't work up the energy to eat at lunch time, or at dinner. Her excuse to her parents was an upset stomach. She went upstairs at the first opportunity and locked herself in her room. Christine couldn't stand to sit at her desk anymore, so she did her homework on her bed, using one of her textbooks to write on. When she'd finished, it was still over an hour before her usual bedtime, but she just laid down, not even bothering to undress, and waited for sleep.

The next day started out much the same. The nightmares hadn't stopped, and she woke up covered in fear sweat. She still wasn't hungry, but she forced herself to take a blueberry muffin for breakfast, not wanting her parents to start getting suspicious. It tasted like nothing.

Her first period was Calculus. It was a good class, because the teacher never asked anyone questions, just wrote formulas on the board and went through sample problems. Christine could just copy down what the teacher wrote and said without having to actually think about any of it.

About five minutes into class, scrawled writing suddenly appeared at the top of her notepad. It read “Your virgin cunt felt fantastic :D :D :D.” Christine immediately yelped and bolted out of her seat, panting with adrenaline and terror.

“Is... something wrong, Miss Summers?” the teacher asked, bemused. Students around her were giggling, and she could see some of them whispering to each other.

“N-no”, she managed, sitting back down. “I just... I... I thought I saw a spider. I'm sorry.” There were more giggles.

“Well, if you do see one, you just let the spiders be spiders and pay attention to class, okay?” His tone was chiding, but gentle. He knew that she was one of his best students, and not prone to causing problems.

“Y-yes sir.”

She stared at the alien text. Had she done it herself, in some kind of fugue state? No, the handwriting was completely different. And besides, her pen was blue, and this writing was in black.

Christine forced herself to remain calm and steady her breathing. That's why when more writing appeared, she gave only the slightest flinch, unnoticed by everyone around her. The new text stated “How many cocks have you sucked?”

It wasn't over. She felt blood pounding in her ears as the terrible implications started to reach her. That night had been painful and horrifying and disgusting, but as long as it had been just one night, she could move past it. She could recover, even if she was in a funk about it right now. Now the horror was no longer past tense. She was still in the middle of it, even if she was no longer physically stripped and bound.

More writing. “Come on, how many dicks have you kissed with those pretty lips?”

Hand trembling, she wrote “please don't do this” and waited.

The response didn't take long. “Answer the question!”

“please please just leave me alone i won't tell anyone about this i promise please”

When the next words came, they were accompanied by a strange loosening sensation in her pants. Christine looked down at her crotch, and felt nauseous as she saw her jeans were now unbuttoned. “Would you rather answer my question,” the new note said, “or find yourself buck naked in the middle of class? How many cocks?”

He wouldn't really do that, would he? Whoever he was, he seemed to want to keep this unnoticed as much as she did. If her clothes suddenly vanished, there would be all sorts of questions asked. But Christine couldn't risk calling his bluff. She was the one with everything to lose here. “none” she wrote back.

“Not for long :p”

She stared at his response, fighting the urge to throw up. Wasn't there some way out of this? Wasn't there someone she could ask for help?! The next message appeared: “At lunch time, go immediately into the girl's bathroom on the third floor, first stall. Sit down on the seat and put your hands behind your back. Your lunch today will be all the sperm you can suck out of me in an hour :D”

A new message appeared almost immediately. “If I don't find you there, you'll be sorry.” Christine waited, but no further writing appeared.

The next few hours passed in a blur. She ignored her classes completely, hearing nothing her teachers said and making no notes, her mind fixated on what was going to happen at lunch. He couldn't physically force her to obey, not here. If she stayed in public spaces all day, he couldn't get to her.

But that would only work for so long. Even if he didn't humiliate her like he'd threatened, even if he couldn't find a time when she was alone to assault her, she would have go to home eventually, and she already knew too well that home was no place of safety.

Christine knew that surrender wasn't a good plan. If he could easily get what he wanted from her, he'd have no reason to stop. He'd keep coming back for more and more, until he got tired of her, and God knew how long that might take.

But what else could she do? If she fought, if she openly tried to resist, he'd just find a way to take what he wanted anyway, and maybe ruin her life for kicks while he was at it. The only thing she could do for now was obey, and hope that he would get careless and some kind of opportunity would arise.

And so when lunch time arrived, she found herself walking up the stairs to the third floor. Unlike the rest of the school, it had almost no foot traffic during the day, most of the space devoted to storage and after school clubs. Christine had used the bathroom up there a few times, usually when she'd wanted to move her bowels without anyone hearing her, and had never seen another person in there at the same time.

She prayed that this time would be different. He'd chosen this location, which meant that he wanted to avoid attention too. If there were people up there, he probably wouldn't risk trying anything.

The bathroom was empty. Christine stood silently in the doorway for a second, then entered the first stall. She sat on the seat, wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans, then put her hands behind her back and waited.

It didn't take long, maybe three minutes. Reality stuttered, and the world went dark again. It didn't feel like a makeshift t-shirt this time, more like one of those eye covers some people wore to bed, and it had been taped to her face. He definitely didn't want her seeing him. Something cold was around her wrists. Handcuffs?

She shifted her legs and heard metal rattle. There was cuffs on her ankles too, and the chain seemed to go behind the toilet. She was trapped.

Warm flesh touched the side of her face, and she shuddered. The penis stroked her cheek, then rubbed against her closed lips. “Lick” came the command.

It was the first thing she'd ever heard him say. His voice was low and growly, not like the way anyone talked in real life, more like somebody doing a bad impression. He must be worried that she might recognize his voice. Christine had suspected he was someone from school after the notes in Calculus, but this confirmed it. It was a small clue, but it was a start.

Reality rippled, and she felt cool air on her upper body and his hands on her now exposed breasts. His fingers pinched her nipples roughly. “Lick,” he said again, in that same voice, his tone more urgent.

Christine obeyed, opening her mouth just enough to slip her tongue out. She extended it timidly towards where the unseen penis might be. The tip of her tongue made contact, and the taste of sweaty, dirty skin struck her. She grimaced and instinctively pulled away.

The boy must not have appreciated her reaction, because he twisted one of her nipples hard enough to make yelp in pain before she could stop herself. “I'm sorry,” she whispered quickly. “I'm sorry, I wasn't ready for it...” He took his hand away, and she meekly lapped at him again. The taste was still awful, easily the worst thing she'd ever had, but she didn't let that stop her from continuing to slowly lick his shaft.

Since she couldn't see him, she simply licked the same space over and over again, and he moved himself to adjust. One second her tongue would be traveling up and down his thick shaft, the next it would be flat against his head. At one point he shifted, the texture of his flesh becoming softer and lumpier, and she almost gagged as she realized she must be licking his balls.

Only a few minutes passed before a new command arrived. “Open wide.”

“Please don't make me do that,” she breathed. She already knew the plea wouldn't work, but she had to try. “I-I don't mind licking you. I can do that as much as you want.” She licked him again, trying to prove her sincerity.

He twisted her nipples again, both of them this time. “Mouth or pussy,” he growled. “You have five seconds to decide.”

Would he really rape her if she refused? Could he? Whatever weird ability he had, it seemed to have limits, or he wouldn't have had to order her to come here, wouldn't have told her to put her hands behind her back beforehand. But she had no time to weigh her options, and couldn't take the chance. Steeling herself, she opened her mouth.

Immediately the pain of her nipples vanished, and at the same time she felt his spongy head slide between her lips. He pushed into her until he filled her entire mouth, his saliva slicked shaft resting on her tongue. “Suck.”

Christine wasn't really sure what to do, but she understood the basic idea. She closed her mouth as much as she could, lips tight around his thick cock, and tried to suck on him like a straw. Her cheeks hollowed with the effort, and she felt his shaft twitch in response.

“Tongue,” he said, and she realized he was panting slightly. “Use your tongue too.” She obeyed, sliding it across the underside of his shaft. She pulled back a few inches, until only his head was still inside her, and lapped at that. From his quivering reaction and heavy breathing, it seemed to be working. His hands came away from her aching nipples and buried themselves in her hair instead, stroking it like she was some kind of pet. The humiliation of receiving such demeaning approval was almost the worst part of it all.

Some small fierce part of her longed to just bite down as hard as she could, make him pay for thinking he could treat her like this. But then what? She would still be blindfolded and helpless. At best, he would beat her severely, probably doing permanent damage. And at worst... she pictured someone finding her in the bathroom with her throat slit, still half naked and cuffed to the toilet, and shuddered.

Within a couple minutes she'd developed a crude rhythm, bobbing her head back and forth on his dick. Lines of drool ran out of the corners of her mouth as she worked, and she could feel salty precum dribbling out of him, her every movement smearing more on her cheeks or tongue. It mixed with her saliva to turn the entire inside of her mouth into a revolting mess. All the toothpaste and mouthwash in the world wouldn't be enough to make it ever feel clean again.

She knew her expression was flushed scarlet with shame, could feel the heat of it in her cheeks. This was far less painful than when he'd taken her virginity, but at the same time so much more degrading. At least then she'd been able to play a passive role. Now she was cooperating, voluntarily pleasuring the same man who'd hurt her so terribly. God, she was disgusting. Christine shoved those feelings aside as best she could. She was doing what she had to.

Christine could tell when she did something he liked. His cock would twitch, or he'd moan, or his hands would tighten in her hair. Though it made her feel absolutely wretched, and her cheeks grew wet with tears, she did her best to learn and repeat those actions. Making him cum was the only way to get this over with. And if she did a good job, maybe he wouldn't... wouldn't want to repeat what he'd done the other night. So she scrubbed her lips against his shaft, and rubbed her tongue against the underside where his head began, and sucked at his flesh like some grotesque kiss.

Soon he began to buck his hips slightly, jabbing her with his cock. Sometimes he would just push against the sides of her mouth, making her cheeks bulge obscenely, and other times he'd hit the back of her mouth and make her gag. His movements grew strong enough that he was frequently pulling out of her mouth completely, and often he'd miss trying to stick it back, rubbing himelf against her cheeks or lips instead, smearing the spit and precum mix plastered on him all over Christine's face.

After ten minutes of this, his cock pulsed, swelling even thicker than before, and some primal part of her recognized what it meant. A few seconds later, he began to spurt, thick gobs of cum hitting the insides of her mouth. She tried to spit it out, but he gripped her jaw with one hand, forcing her lips closed around him.

It felt like an eternity, but mere seconds had passed by the time his spray slowed and then stopped. Christine stayed in place, holding his semen in her mouth. It tasted disgustingly bitter, but the texture was even worse, slimy and sticky at the same time. She breathed hard through her nose, suddenly grateful that there wasn't much in her stomach.

“Swallow.”

She made a soft sound in the back of her throat. She'd done everything he wanted! Couldn't he spare her this one final humiliation?

Apparently not, because his response was to keep holding her jaw closed with one hand and pinch her nostrils shut with the other, cutting off her oxygen. Panic filled her at the sudden suffocation, at the idea of dying like this, on the school toilet with a stranger's cock in her mouth.

Christine swallowed, feeling the goopy mess slide slowly down her throat. Her mouth and nose were released and she immediately had a coughing fit. A finger poked into her mouth, pulling at her lips to open her mouth wide, then pushing aside her tongue. Her shame deepened as she realized he was checking that she'd swallowed his entire load.

“Mmm hmm,” he said, clearly pleased. “I bet you loved the taste of me, didn't you?” When she didn't say anything immediately, he repeated the question, tone more intense. “Didn't you?”

“N-n-no...” she stammered around his finger, unwilling to lie to him, but terrified that his response would be violent.

But he didn't strike her, or torture her sore nipples again. Instead, he pulled his finger out and replaced it with his limp, wet dick. “Then we'll keep going until you do,” he said. In no position to argue, Christine began to lick and suck on him once more, the experience not improved by the sticky strands of cums dotting his shaft. It didn't take long for him to grow hard again.

By the time the bell rang to signal the end of the period, three loads of cum sat heavy in her stomach. Just like before, he said nothing to announce his departure. One second she was performing cleanup duty on him yet again, and the next he and her restraints were both gone, and she was fully clothed.

Christine allowed herself one long, shuddering breath. Then she wiped the drool and cock slime off her face and stood up to leave. She had class to get to.

**********

Jordan could barely focus on his classes for the rest of the day. He just kept reliving his lunch break. The way Christine's soft lips had caressed him, the electrifying sense of pleasure every time her tongue made contact. She knew that she was his now. She didn't know who he was, but that didn't matter. He'd made it clear that he wasn't going to take no for an answer, and she'd submitted. He'd been a little rough with her, but he knew that deep down she loved it, or would soon enough.

As his teacher droned on, he snuck his phone out of his pocket and looked at the pictures. Christine face down on her desk, his dick buried in her pussy. Christine on the toilet, working hard to earn another mouthful of cum. A week ago, he wouldn't have been able to imagine better masturbation material, but now? He had something much better than his hand to spend his loads on.

Christine, Christine, Christine...

Chapter Seven

One week later.

Christine lay spread eagled on her bed, limbs bound by chains that ran underneath. The mattress squeaked softly as Jordan laid on top of her, pumping in and out of her pussy.

She still had the blindfold, but he trusted her enough not to gag her this time. Even if she wanted to scream, she had to know by now that he'd be long gone by the time anyone showed up, and he'd only come back as soon as they'd left.

And why would she want to scream? Now that neither one of them were virgins, Jordan felt more comfortable with taking his time, going nice and slow to make sure she loved this as much as he did. He licked the side of her neck, savoring the sweet salty taste of her skin, then moved down to her tits, sucking on one of her beautiful nipples. He bit down lightly and her whole body quivered in response, the movement sending sharp twinges of pleasure to his crotch. Even with the condom on, her pussy was fantastic. He didn't like wearing it, but it was the smart thing to do. Neither one of them could afford a pregnancy scare. Jordan could only hope that their first night together wouldn't have any lasting consequences.

The two of them had fallen into a comfortable routine. He wasn't able to be with her every lunch break or every night, but he was there more often than not. Her earlier reluctance had faded over time, and she attended obediently to his commands, going wherever he asked and waiting in any position he desired.

Jordan slipped his hands around Christine to embrace her, cupping her butt to pull her in closer on each thrust. Her pussy was so hot and tight around his shaft... oh God, she felt so good... he sped up for the last few thrusts, wanting to make the most of her before the orgasm overwhelmed him. She made tiny sounds of pleasure every time he bottomed out in her. He felt himself begin to cum, felt her body clench and shiver around him as she felt it too.

Spent, he slowed down, until he laid panting atop her, his soft dick still inside her warmth. “I love you, Christine,” he breathed, barely remembering to mask his voice.

“I... I love you too,” she said quietly. Jordan's heart swelled. He had known that it would only be a matter of time. Once he had proven himself to her, shown that he was a man and that she was his woman, it was inevitable that she fall for him.

“Will you...” she swallowed. “Will you allow me to please you without being tied up? I... I won't try to take the blindfold off, I promise.”

Despite having cum several times already, Jordan's cock stirred at her offer. “Yes, Christine,” he said, and kissed her mouth, tongues meeting. “Whatever you want, my love.”

He stopped time just long enough to remove her bondage, then stepped away from the bed to watch her closely. He wanted to trust, wanted to believe in their love, but he wasn't going to be stupid about it. If she made any move to take off her blindfold, or to assault him, he would be ready to stop her.

To his relief, Christine seemed to have no interest in anything like that. She twisted around so that she was facing the opposite direction, her legs now by the headboard, then rolled onto her stomach. Propping herself up on her elbows and knees, she put her head down and waited.

Jordan approached her slowly, marveling at the beauty of her submission. He knelt behind her, his cock already painfully hard as he rolled a fresh rubber over it. She responded to his approach by pushing her ass towards him, her pillowy cheeks rubbing against his member.

From this position, he had a perfect view of her asshole, tight and wrinkled. He'd taken her pussy and her mouth more times than he could count in the last week, but never back there. Her last virginity... Without thinking, he reached out with a finger, and stroked it softly. Christine shivered and moved away. “Not... not there,” she said nervously. “Please.”

A few days ago, even a few minutes ago, he might have ignored her plea. She belonged to him, and he had the right to do whatever he wanted with her. Besides, after a few rounds of anal, she'd love it back there as much as she loved him in her other two holes. But she was being so good right now. Out of respect for her offering herself to him, he would do as she wanted. “Alright, love,” he assured her. “Not your ass. Not until you're ready to give it to me.”

“Th-thank you...” she said, and pushed herself against him once more. “Will you do me one more favor?”

“Anything, love.”

“I... I want to feel the real you. Like the first night. Without the... the condom.”

“But...”

Christine humped his crotch once more. “Please...” she whined. “I need to feel you.”

How could he say no to that? He was suddenly grateful that he hadn't forced the issue of her asshole. If he had, she might never have given him this wonderful gift. He peeled the condom off, and let himself sink into her waiting wetness.

He'd forgotten how amazing she felt like this, how intoxicating. Her pussy was a warm velvet glove that caressed him with each stroke, begging him for his seed. He made up his mind then and there that he'd never wear a condom with her again. Such a perfect hole deserved to be fully appreciated. He'd just start stealing birth control for her instead. He could steal some from the pharmacy and leave a pill on her desk every morning. Then she wouldn't have to answer any uncomfortable questions from her parents, and he would get to keep enjoying this silky smooth tunnel bareback, the way it was meant to be.

Their movements made her hanging breasts swing back and forth enticingly, and he took hold of both of them, luxuriating in how soft and pleasant they felt squished between his fingers. He bent down to nibble on her shoulder blade, leaving tiny bites that made her shake and whimper with lust. God, was there a single part of her body that wasn't incredible, that didn't respond so wonderfully to his touch?

He'd meant to take his time enjoying her like this, but her wet twat was having none of it. It sucked at him greedily, trying to draw his cum right out of him. Jordan abandoned moderation and took hold of her long hair, yanking back on her tresses like reins as he thrust into her. And she met his every movement with her own, the two of them in perfect sync. In no time at all, he came for the fourth time that night, his sperm feeding her hungry cunt. She gasped in pleasure, and the two of them collapsed into a sweaty tangle of limbs.

He relaxed like that for a few minutes, then kissed her one last time and left.

**********

Christine felt like she was going to be sick.

She rolled onto her back after the boy left, exhausted and humiliated. Her pussy ached from the abuse, had been aching for days now. It had hurt so badly she hadn't been able to keep quiet a few times, but luckily he seemed to have interpreted her sounds for moans of pleasure.

It wasn't the pain that bothered her right now, though. She felt filthy, degraded. She had given herself to him, told him that she loved him and participated in her own rape.

It had to be done, Christine told herself. She had to make him believe he'd won. If he hadn't, if he'd been suspicious or thinking with his brain instead of his crotch, he might have noticed that she was up to something. But he hadn't. And now, God willing, it would be over.

She dug Becky's old phone out of the pile of books and papers it had been concealed in on her desk. At first, she'd tried to use the webcam on her computer to catch him in the act, but the picture was always dark; she assumed he must be putting tape on it as a precaution every time. Similarly, she'd tried leaving her phone out as an experiment, not even pointed at the bed or recording any video, and confirmed later that it had been turned off. Whoever her rapist was, he was careful not to leave her anything that might be used to identify him.

So she'd found her sister's phone instead, buried in a drawer. The SIM card was gone, but it could still take pictures and video. The last couple times he'd finished using her, she'd immediately started setting it up, knowing that was the least likely time he would reappear again, until she'd figured out the right placement that would leave it unseen but still capable of recording whatever happened on the bed. It had been nerve wracking hiding it that afternoon after she'd returned home from school, terrified that he would show up at any moment and see what she was doing, but she'd managed it.

The hardest part had been getting him into a position where the phone would even be able to see his face. He'd had his back to the desk the whole evening as he'd used her, and she didn't want to risk trying to pull this off more than once. She might not be as lucky the second time. So that had left her only one option: convince him to switch to a different position, and get him too distracted to be suspicious about it.

At least he hadn't raped her ass. She shivered at the memory of being touched back there, and prayed that he'd never get another chance. If she'd done this right, that would be the last time he'd ever get to rape her.

Christine played through the recording, skimming through two hours of rape. There were times when the picture seemed to jump, and he would suddenly be in a different place or her restraints would have changed. She'd felt those things happening may times now, but this was the first time she'd actually seen the effect. She'd hoped that once she'd seen it, there would be some perfectly rational explanation for what was going on, but what he was doing looked completely impossible. She studied the footage closely, trying to find some clue, but there were no answers.

She reached the point where he'd released her and paused the recording, nervous. Was it possible he was somehow watching her right now? Waiting to confirm that she'd been tricking him?

No. No, he had some kind of incredible power, but he couldn't be everywhere at once. Steeling herself, she pressed play. And gasped in shock.

Jordan?! Jordan?!

He... she'd assumed it was some brute jock, some delinquent. He was... he was Jordan! He... he was supposed to be her friend! She liked him. She even, she'd even thought sometimes that maybe...

Her heart ached. It would have been far easier if it was a stranger assaulting her, not him. But she couldn't deny what she saw on the screen. Jordan, the sweet shy boy she used to watch movies and play games and share secrets and have fun with, was a rapist. Her rapist.

Christine tried not to think about the betrayal. She had something more important to focus on now, a decision that she'd been debating for days without coming up with a good answer.

Should she give the police the video?

On the one hand, his face was clearly on camera. Nobody who saw it could fail to identify him in a lineup. But the footage itself... she watched him finish inside her, then blink away soon after. It looked fake, like a cheap movie effect.

Nobody would believe that the video was undoctored. Even if she trimmed it down to remove all the oddities, the missing footage alone would warrant suspicion. And once people started to question the authenticity, it was a short path to believing the whole thing was faked, that she'd edited his face in, maybe staged the entire scene somehow.

She couldn't take that risk, Christine decided. If the video backfired, it would unravel her entire case against him. And besides, she had much stronger evidence against him. Unconsciously, her fingertips touched her sore pussy, still leaking Jordan's cum. With his DNA inside her, she wouldn't need the video.

Christine stood up, preparing herself. She didn't need to will herself to cry. She just stopped willing herself not to. As tears began streaking down her cheeks, she stumbled downstairs to tell her parents that she'd been raped.

Part Three - Broken

Chapter Eight

The second Jordan saw the two police officers waiting outside his door, he instinctively froze time. He stared at them in shock for long minutes, unable to believe what he was seeing.

It couldn't be true! It couldn't!

He forced himself to calm down. Maybe it was something else. Maybe... maybe it was... it could be...

He let time slip away, and watched his parents open the door.

“Jordan Seeler?” one of the officers asked. His voice was cold. Jordan nodded silently.

“We'd like you to accompany us back to the station so you can answer some-”

The world stopped.

Jordan strode out the door past the officers, barely even noticing them. There was only one thing they could be here to ask about. He had to find her. He had to see for himself.

He biked to her house, but found it empty. Furious, he let out an incoherent scream. Where was she?!

As he stood still, it came to him. Her behavior earlier that night. Asking to be unbound. Asking him not to use a condom. He might still have time.

********************

“Miss Summers?” asked Officer Barnes.

Christine looked up at the familiar face with relief. “May I go home now?” Her mother rubbed her back reassuringly. They'd been waiting here in the station for hours since she'd given the police her statement and had the rape kit testing done, sitting on a cold unpleasant bench in the hall. The sun would be up soon.

“Not yet, ma'am,” he said. “Follow me, please.”

He led her into one of the interrogation rooms, and motioned for her to take a seat. She did so, feeling increasingly nervous. It was just him and her in this gray, unfriendly room. He could do anything he wanted. Just throw her across this table and...

She shook her head, trying to banish the irrational fears playing through her mind. Nothing was going to happen. This man wasn’t her enemy. He wasn’t even a stranger. She’d been friends with his partner’s daughter Millie for the last six years, and had seen him around plenty of times at the girl’s house.  He’d never come off as anything but kind and hardworking. And besides, there was the big mirror on one wall, the one that people were always on the other side of in crime shows. She wasn’t really alone with him.

Officer Barnes cleared his throat. “I'd like to go over your statement one more time, Miss Summers.” Christine felt her fear creeping back up as she looked at his impassive, professional expression, which bore little resemblance to the smiling man she was used to seeing. He almost seemed like a different person as he sat on the other side of the table.

“Of course.”

“How did Mr Seeler get into your bedroom?”

“I think he came in through the window.” Christine was actually fairly certain he'd just opened the door and walked in, but she couldn't say that. In order for this to work, she couldn't talk about the impossible things that had happened. It had to appear to be a “normal” rape, if such a thing were possible.

“You think?” There was an edge of frost to Officer Barnes's tone, and Christine resisted a shudder.

“I didn't see him until he was already in the room,” she said truthfully. “So I wasn't able to see how he entered.”

“And you didn't see what he did when exiting?”

“I had a blindfold on. That he'd put on me.”

“Mmm hmm.” Officer Barnes looked down at his notes. “How did he get this blindfold on you?”

Christine squirmed uncomfortably. The officer who'd taken her original statement had been a woman who'd been, if not outright friendly, at least sympathetic to what she'd been through. She'd asked a couple questions, but not like this. Officer Barnes wasn't looking for more information, she realized, he was looking for holes in her story. Did he think she was making parts of it up?

“I was taking a nap,” she said. "When I woke up, he was on top of me, pushing my face into the pillow so I couldn't see him. He held a knife to my throat and threatened to kill me if I screamed or resisted. I recognized his voice. That was when he blindfolded me." The lies came easily; she'd been practicing them in her head all week, working out a believable story that kept the important details while leaving out the unbelievable ones.

“Do you often take naps on school nights like that?” the officer asked.

“No, I was just tired that night. I, I haven't been sleeping well lately.”

“Hmm.” Officer Barnes made another note. “That was lucky of him then, wasn't it?”

“I'm sorry?”

“If Mr Seeler had tried to enter your room while you were awake, you would've seen him and called for help, right? So it was extremely lucky that you just so happened to be asleep when he attempted to assault you.”

“Y-yes,” Christine agreed lamely. “Maybe he, um, saw me turn off the light in my room, and figured out I'd gone to sleep?”

"You claim he threatened you with a knife. Did he actually cut you with it?" Officer Barnes asked.

Christine hadn't missed his use of the word 'claim'. "No. He just blindfolded me, gagged me, and then used something metallic to bind me to the bed. I wasn't able to see what it was."

"So you let him tie you up. Were you unaware of what he was going to do to you afterwards?"

The officer's face was still composed and professional, but there was a hard look in his eyes that chilled Christine. "I... I knew what was going to happen," she said, trying to keep calm. "But he had a knife."

"And he kept this knife on your throat the entire time, even while tying you up?"

"No," she admitted.

"So there were moments when he was not threatening you with a knife, but you still chose not to put up a struggle."

"I... I couldn't see exactly what he was doing. I didn't want to risk my life."

“So you agreed to let him tie you up so that he could forcibly penetrate you, and made no attempt to resist him. That is an important detail, Miss Summers, and will need to be added to your official statement.”

He was just twisting her words, trying to humiliate her. Was it a tactic to make her slip up?

"And then what?" the officer asked.

"Then he... he raped me."

"I need you to be more specific, Miss Summers. Did he penetrate you immediately, or was there foreplay first?"

"I... why do you need to know that?"

Officer Barnes gave her a flat look. “Miss Summers, you're accusing Mr Seeler of a very serious crime. If these accusations are true, it will mean the end of his life for all intents and purposes. He will be expelled, sent to prison, and registered as a sex offender. So we owe it to him, and to you, to have as many details as possible. Answer the question: did he penetrate you immediately?"

"No, he... " Christine's face burned as she recalled the specifics of what had happened a few hours ago. "He touched my breasts first. And, he kissed me. On the neck."

"Was he successful?"

"I don't-"

"Were you wet when he penetrated you?" Officer Barnes kept up his perfect poker face as he watched her reaction. "The judge will need to know how exactly how violent the sexual assault was before deciding on Mr Seeler's sentence. This is no trivial matter; we're talking about several years of a young man's life. Were you wet when he penetrated you, Miss Summers?”

Christine knew it wasn't a real question. But what was she supposed to do? Refuse to answer? Leave? She had to imagine that in either case, they wouldn't bother pressing charges against Jordan afterwards.

"No," she lied, not wanting to give him more ammunition. To her shame, she had gotten wet at the time. After the first few rapes, her body had started doing it out of pure self defense. There was never anything pleasurable about it, and even when he went at her for hours she never approached anything that could be considered an orgasm, but she had begun to develop a disgustingly Pavlovian response to Jordan's attentions.

“How do you know for certain?” Officer Barnes asked. “You were blindfolded and unable to make physical contact with your genitals, after all. Can you be certain that you weren't wet?”

“Y-yes.”

“How?”

“It... it hurt. A lot.”

“Were you a virgin, Miss Summers?” Officer Barnes asked.

“I... yes.”

“So you don't actually have personal experience with how painful sexual intercourse could be.”

“No,” she said, wishing that were actually true.

“Then you can't be certain you weren't wet, can you?”

“N-no...”

“So you may have been wet when Jordan Seeler penetrated you, after tying you to your bed, playing with your breasts, and kissing your neck? I can add that to your official statement?”

“...yes...” It was getting harder to hold back the tears. His behavior had gone well past trying to throw her off; he was just outright mocking her now. Why?

Officer Barnes checked his notes again. “The technician who administered the forensic exam for your rape kit noted the lack of blood in your vagina, which would normally be present if your hymen had been broken. Any thoughts on why that didn't occur?”

The exam alone had been almost more humiliating than being raped. She'd had to undress for the nurse, let her take pictures of every part of her body and swab her for DNA samples. Her stomach twisted into knots at the idea of going through all that for nothing, if the police decided that they didn't believe her story.

And that wouldn't be the worst of it. If Jordan found out that she'd accused him of rape... she couldn't resist the shudder this time.

“I must have broken my hymen at some other point,” she said.

“From masturbation?” he asked.

“Wh-what?” she said, completely startled by his suggestion.

“The pictures showed some abrasions that indicated frequent vaginal penetration over a recent period of time. Normally we don't see such significant abrasions outside of prostitutes. And you're not a prostitute, correct Miss Summers?”

“No,” she said quietly.

“So I can only conclude that it's actually of a sign of heavy and frequent masturbation, which would also explain the broken hymen and lack of blood. Is that the case, Miss Summers, or is there some other reason you'd care to provide?”

“No, that's... that's the reason,” she said slowly, certain her cheeks must be beet red by now. Christine couldn't understand why he was doing this to her, but there was no other response she could give. She just had to get through this. She'd had to bend the truth in some spots, but Jordan had assaulted her. As long as she stuck to her story, her statement and his DNA should be enough.

“I'll add that to your official statement then: no signs of blood because of intense masturbation. And how often do you masturbate at night?”

“Wh... why is that relevant?!” she protested, unable to stop herself.

“Answer the question, Miss Summers.”

“I, I don't know...”

“I've looked at the abrasions myself,” he said. Christine felt nauseated as she realized what he was saying: he'd looked at the pictures of her naked, of the inside of her vagina. It was a minor violation compared to the last week, but it still made her feel filthy inside. “I'd estimate you must be doing it at least two or three times a night, if you were still a virgin. Is that accurate?”

“Y-yes...” she answered, the only thing she could think to say.

“Some of the abrasions were rather deep inside. You used a dildo then, and not just your fingers?”

“Yes...” She'd never done anything of the sort. She'd masturbated occasionally, but never with anything but her bare hands.

Officer Barnes made another note. “I'll update the statement: no signs of blood because of intense masturbation with a dildo. If I sent someone over to retrieve this dildo as evidence, where would they find it?”

“I... I don't know...”

“You don't know where the dildo you use to pleasure yourself multiple times a night is located right now?” he asked.

“No...” she whispered, blinking away the tears of humiliation that could no longer be held back.

“I'll just leave a note about that in your case file then,” the officer said. “Can you demonstrate your usual technique, so we can make sure it lines up with what we've seen in the pictures?” He gestured to the side of the table. “You can stand over there for it.”

Christine made a genuine effort to rise from her seat, but her body wouldn't obey her. Shaking, she collapsed back down. She just couldn't do this anymore. More tears came, and she couldn't stop any of them this time. “Why are you doing this to me?!” she asked as she blubbered.

A hint of a smile came to Officer Barnes' face, though there was no mirth to it. “Miss Summers, normally it can take weeks to get back the results of a DNA swab test. In this case, however, identification took considerably less time, given that the sample provided was actually a mix of milk and yogurt.”

Christine stared at him, tears running down her face. “What?!”

“I don't know why you believed something like that would go unnoticed, or the how the original technician who stored the sample failed to realize what was going on, but your little game is over. Consider your questioning tonight to be a small taste of karmic justice for such a vile prank. If your attempt to frame Mr Seeler hadn't been so laughably inept, it might have actually worked.”

Christine shrank back her in seat. There was no longer even the illusion of politeness to Officer Barnes.. He was eyeing her with a look of contempt, and she had to fight the urge to bolt out of the room. “This... there must be some kind of mistake! Jordan Seeler raped me!”

“Mr. Seeler was home in his basement all night, until the time he was placed under arrest and brought to the station. His family have attested that he went down there shortly after arriving home, and had not left all night. They were quite certain on the topic; apparently the basement door has a very creaky hinge that can be heard throughout the house. We sent a man there who verified it.”

Christine tried to think furiously. This couldn't be happening. “My room then! He was in there! You'll find hair and skin samples!”

“We already sent a team to check it out. Not only did they find zero traces of any strange skin or hair follicles, they also found no identifying marks on the house's exterior, the kind that would be left behind by someone scaling the wall to reach the second floor window.”

The officer leaned in closer, staring her down. “Mr Seeler is not the one who has committed a crime tonight. False rape accusations are a felony, Miss Summers, and you are not a minor. If Mr. Seeler presses charges, it would mean significant jail time and a permanent criminal record. Luckily for you, and against the wishes of his legal counsel, Mr. Seeler has emphatically rejected to press charges at this time. Which means that we are done here.”

Officer Barnes stood up from his seat, glowering at her. “We do not appreciate being made fools of, especially by a little slut who's either getting pounded every night or trying her best to grind her dildo down to a nub. So you're going to come with me while I share our findings and your statements with your parents, including what we were just discussing about your nightly habits, and then you can get the hell out of my station. And I suggest, Miss Summers, that you be on your very best behavior from now on.”

Christine was numb during the car ride home. She was dimly aware of her parents talking to her, sometimes with concern, sometimes with anger, but it all flew by. She had lost. She'd given it her best try, thought she was going to be free of this nightmare, and she'd been wrong. And now it was only going to get worse.

********************

Exhausted, Jordan collapsed onto his bed. It was impossible to gauge how much time had passed for him versus the real world, but he would have wagered he'd been in there at least six or eight hours. In that time, he'd managed to track down the sperm samples and replace them, with the help of a keycard borrowed from a nearby technician's pocket, vacuumed Christine's room to remove any other traces he might have left behind, and wiped everything down for fingerprints, all before coming back to his house and letting the police take him in.

Between all that and the hours spent at the station, he'd been up for close to thirty hours by now. His eyelids felt like they had weights attached. But sleep didn't come immediately, his brain still overactive. Christine. That bitch. That cunt. She'd lied to him, manipulated him, pretended that she loved him and then tried to ruin his life.

Fine. That was just fine. If that was how she wanted to play it, Jordan would respond in kind. No more nice guy. He would make that traitorous slut regret being born before he was done. The time would come when she'd be on her knees, begging his forgiveness, swearing to do anything if he'd offer mercy, and he'd just turn the screws on harder.

Chapter Nine

Christine barely slept that night, on edge, waiting for Jordan's retribution. She didn't know when or how, but she knew it would happen, and that she would have no way of stopping it.

To her wary surprise, Wednesday passed without incident, as did Thursday. She even passed Jordan in the hall once, and though she'd shrunk away from him, expecting something terrible to happen, he'd just kept walking, not even glancing at her. The rumor mill had started its work, though, and before the end of the second day, people around her had began to whisper and giggle at her presence. Her friends didn't speak of it, but their awkward silences told her they'd heard all about it too. Millie wouldn't even look at her.

She tried to ignore it. She had more important things to worry about now than high school gossip. People could laugh at her and talk about her behind their back all they wanted, and it shouldn't really matter.

Because of her attempted indifference, it took Christine a little while on Friday to realize that Jordan's assault had already begun.

As she walked into school that day, the buzz around her was louder than usual. Students openly gawked at her as she went past, some shocked, some amused. It wasn't until she ran into Nadine that she found out it was more than just notoriety. “Oh my god, Christine,” the brunette hissed. “What did you... why would you do that to yourself?”

“...What?” Christine couldn't make sense of her friend's panicked anxious expression. “Is this about Jordan? I... look, I can tell you about it later, okay?”

Nadine shook her head, then studied her face. “You... do you not know? How could you not know?”

Christine had a sinking feeling in her stomach as Nadine started to fumble in her backpack. She came out with a compact mirror, and showed it to her. Staring at her own face with mounting horror, Christine brought her fingers to her cheek. They came away stained black.

Written across her face in black marker were the words “I AM A LYING WHORE”.

Christine sprinted towards the nearest bathroom. She could hear more laughter and conversation as she moved, her appearance the hot news of the morning. She washed her face off in a sink while the other girls in there stared at her.

This was only the beginning. A warm-up to let her know he was coming.

The real attack came during Calculus. Even if she hadn't already been on high alert, Christine would have felt it when reality shifted, the experience accompanied by a sudden ache in her groin.

She noticed her arms first. They were written on in ink, the same ink as the pen she'd been using for notes. “I AM A NEEDY SLUT”, “PLEASE GIVE ME DICK”, “YOU'LL LOVE MY PUSSY”... she licked her thumb and tried to wipe them off, but the smudged words remained.

“Miss Summers?!” came the teacher's shocked voice in front of her. Christine realized that the whole class had gone silent, that everyone was staring at her. There was a new noise in the room too, something she didn't have time to identify.

“I... I think I need to go to the nurse,” she said, trying to remain calm. “I'm... not feeling well.”

The teacher walked to her desk. “I don't know what is going on, young lady, but my classroom is not the place to go writing such filth all over...” he stopped. “What's that noise?”

Everyone listened to the low buzzing. Christine became acutely aware of the ache in her groin again. It was somewhat painful, but also felt... good. Really good, like... like...

She felt her face flush as she realized what was happening, and saw the teacher blush as he suddenly figured it out too. “Miss Summers,” he said, his voice warring between anger, embarrassment, and amusement. “You will not be going to the nurse. You will go to the principal's office. But first, you will go to the bathroom and remove... remove whatever thing you have decided to pleasure yourself with in the middle of class.”

The entire class erupted in laughter as the other students realize they were listening to the steady hum of a vibrator. Hoots and jeers came from several of the boys, and Christine saw girls, many of whom she would have called friends, look at her with nothing but revulsion.

She stood, trying to hold on to her dignity, trying to resist the urge to flee the room sobbing. She walked slowly, carefully out of the classroom. Even as she walked down the hall, she could still hear them laughing.

********************

“This is... all most unusual,” the principal was saying to her. He was an older man, in his sixties or so, who'd always projected a kind of friendly grandfather vibe to Christine. Today he just looked anxious and tired. “Christine, I've already heard about an incident between you and Mr. Seeler.”

“I wasn't lying,” she said wearily, sitting in front of his desk. “Jordan raped me.”

The principal harrumphed and looked away. “Well, I don't know what the police were thinking, but for what it's worth, Christine, if you say it happened, I believe you. I have never known you to be anything but an honest, upstanding student, just like your sister before you.”

Her spirits rose for the first time in days. “You do? Oh thank you, sir, thank you! It really did happen!”

The principal held up a hand to stop her. “Be that as it may, and while I'm aware that you must be going through serious trauma over what's happened, I cannot allow that to have a disruptive effect here, do you understand? My school is neither the time nor the place to work through these issues, especially not in the... colorful manner you seem to have chosen.”

“I... I'm, sorry sir,” said Christine. The ink had been reduced to illegible smduges on her arms by now, after several minutes of washing in the bathroom. There had been more on her face too, a drawing of a dick on her cheek pointing to her mouth, the words “I'VE BEEN PRACTICING EVERY DAY” next to it, and she'd gotten rid of that as best she could manage. The vibrator, a small pink thing that had been taped to her clitoral hood, she'd pulled off and thrown in the garbage, burying it as deeply into the bin as she could in the hope it would go unnoticed.

She was tempted to tell him that she wasn't responsible for the writing, but she knew it would do no good. The earlier writing could have at least been played off as a nasty prank carried out while she was sleeping, but there was no rational explanation she could give for how somebody wrote on her face and arms without her permission in the middle of class, nor how she'd ended up with a vibrator in her crotch. He believed that she'd been raped, and that would have to be enough.

“I will strongly recommend making an appointment with a therapist,” said the principal, turning away to look out the window. “They will be much better equipped to help you deal with this, to assist your recovery from the mental trauma you're clearly experiencing.”

“Yes, sir,” she said. “And thank you for trying to help.” A therapist couldn't do much for her, but it wouldn't hurt either, and she appreciated the attempt.

The principal harrumphed again, looking embarrassed. “I know it's not much, dear, but there is no easy solution to...” His voice trailed off as he looked away from the window and back at her. His expression turned shocked and confused, then darkened.

Christine had been too distracted to notice reality skipping this time. She looked down to find her shirt rolled up under her elbows, her bra pushed down to expose her breasts. Written across the top of them was “WOULDN'T I MAKE A GOOD TEACHER'S PET?” in more ink. The pen was now in her hand.

“I-I-it isn't...” she stammered.

“Miss Summers!,” the principal bellowed, furious. “I am not certain what offends me more. That you would degrade yourself like this, that you would try to seduce me, or that you thought it might work. I know you have been through a lot this week, but this... this is revolting.”

Christine bowed her head, in no position to defend herself. The principal breathed deeply, trying to calm himself. When he spoke next, his tone was formal, with no trace of the kindness or sympathy that had been there before. “Out of respect for your academic record, I will not have this incident entered into your permanent file. You are, however, suspended for the next week. I suggest that you use the time to consider your priorities carefully. You are now on very thin ice here.”

Chapter Ten

Jordan thought long and hard in his room as he tried to figure out what to do with Christine. More than just fuck her, that was for certain. He wanted to fuck with her, to drag that smug, heartless bitch through the mud.

Even just thinking about what she'd tried to do to him made tears well up. She'd used him, let him think that she loved him. How she must have laughed and laughed when she found out that her lover was just stupid little Jordan. And to go to the police, accuse him of rape... he'd thought that she just didn't care about him. He had no idea she'd hated him.

Well now the cunt was going to get a taste of her own medicine. Pulling those pranks on her in school had made Jordan realize just how fun it was to mess with her. After she'd been sent home he'd stilled time to check in on her, and found her huddled in her bedroom crying. It had felt so good to see her like that, to see her arrogance humbled. It was even better than seeing her smile.

He wanted more of that. Make her cry, make her miserable, make her regret what she threw away. He'd make her feel so filthy and worthless that she'd never be able to look down on him like that again. Grinning, he began to write down some of his ideas, his other hand rubbing his crotch.

********************

In some ways, the suspension was a relief. If she'd gone to school, she'd be vulnerable to Jordan's attacks. Here, she'd be relatively safe. He couldn't go skipping class to abuse her. At worst, he might show up during his lunch break, but at least public humiliation was no longer on the table.

She didn't feel safe, though. It might be difficult for Jordan to get to her here, but not impossible, and she didn't think he was the type to give in easily.

That's why Christine wasn't surprised when a box appeared on her bed Monday morning, shortly after her parents had left for work. The principal hadn't given them the full details of why she'd been suspended, but they had enough information to be very upset with her, and spent most of the weekend getting that across. She had strict orders from them to spend the week studying.

She picked the box up gingerly. It was medium sized, gift wrapped, and had a piece of paper taped to the top with print on it. As she read the note, she felt the weight of the world start pressing down on her.

“Hello, Christine,” the note read. “I once imagined you were my girlfriend. I even dared to hope that you would someday be my wife. I loved you more than anything, and for a brief, wonderful moment, I believed you felt the same way.

“But that time in our lives has ended. You are not my girlfriend, Christine, nor my wife. You are my slave now, and you will do whatever I ask.

“Last week was a simple demonstration of what I'm capable of. In a matter of minutes, I could get you kicked out of any college, destroy any of your relationships, or get you fired from even the lowliest job. I have the power to ruin your life, and the will to use it.

“Whether or not I exercise that power is entirely up to you. I expect complete and total obedience from you from now on. Any rebellion, any act of defiance, any further attempts to manipulate my feelings, will results in the floodgates being opened.

“First, there is the matter of your punishment. You tried to have me arrested, and for that you must be taught a lesson. In a moment of youthful idiocy, I made a promise that I would not take your last virginity until you offered it to me, and unlike you, I am not a liar. That is why on Friday night, you will apologize for what you tried to do, and you will beg me to have your ass.

“You will be responsible for choosing the position I will take you in, and you will do all the work. You will fuck your asshole on my dick until I have cum, and you will thank me for the privilege.

“We will spend this week preparing you for that event, and getting you adjusted to your new position in life. You will be given orders each morning, and you will obey them to the best of your ability. There will be no second chances. If you do not wish to follow an order, I recommend killing yourself; it will be kinder than whatever I will do.

“Enclosed is a set of gifts. After you have finished reading this note, you will strip naked, open the box, and put on what is in there. You will remain in this state all day until your parents come home, and do likewise all the following days. You will not see me, but I will be around at irregular intervals to check that you are in compliance.

“Your task today is to lay in bed and masturbate for at least four hours. You will use your webcam to record your session. In that time, you will visibly orgasm at least ten times. Whether they are real or fake does not matter, only that anyone watching will be able to see what a horny slut you are.

“When you are done, you will send the video to the email address I've provided below.”

Christine read the note several times, a tiny part of her hoping each time that she'd only imagined what she'd read before. This was a living nightmare. He was right; she had no room to disobey. The police thought she was a criminal, her own parents didn't believe her... she was powerless.

And on Friday night... she shivered. He would get exactly what he wanted. She had no other choice. If he wanted, he could... could rape her like that right now. The only path she could see was obedience. She'd taken her chance against him and failed. All she could do now was wait for another one to arise, and until then, not give him a reason to be even crueler than he already intended.

Resigned, she stepped out of her clothes, folding them neatly and putting them on her dresser. Even though she was alone in her room, she felt vulnerable and exposed. At any moment, he could be watching her. She unwrapped the gift box and opened it up.

The first item was a red leather collar. The fastener at the back was like a belt buckle, and there was a gold ring attached to the front. A leash of the same color and material was connected to it by its own interlocking gold ring. She buckled the collar on, the leash's end dangling between her breasts.

Next was a long pink vibrator. Instead of being modeled after a real penis, it was more like a piece of abstract art, all smooth lumps and curves. A cord protruded from the flat suction cup base. Another note, this one only a post-it, was attached to the dildo. It read “highest setting always”.

Christine hesitated only a moment before sliding the vibrator into her. It was thick and she was dry, but after all the rough use her pussy had gotten, it slid in without trouble. She turned it on, and it buzzed to life, the sensations more pleasant than she cared to admit.

After that was a ball gag. The gag itself was large and red, matching the collar she already wore, and had a black strap that went around the back of her head. She put it on, and almost immediately felt herself start to drool, her mouth unable to close.

There was still more in the box. The penultimate item was a pair of nipple clamps attached by a chain. The clamps were an intricate metal design that didn't appear to have any way to adjust them. Christine carefully applied one to her left nipple, moaning around the gag as it painfully crushed her nipple by the time it was fully on, then repeated the process with her right nipple. The chain dangled below her breasts, uncomfortably tugging on her tender nipples every time she moved.

The final “gift” was a small black butt plug with another suction cup base. It was only a few inches long with a tapered end. Despite its small size, it took her nearly ten minutes to work the thing into her ass, slowed down by fear and her own tightness. It didn't hurt as bad as she'd expected, but was still an awkward and unwelcome lump in her rectum.

Once she was certain the box was empty, she took a long look at herself in the mirror. Collared, gagged, clamped, and stuffed. She looked and felt more like a sex doll than a person.

Well, she couldn't waste too much time feeling sorry for herself. Christine turned on her webcam, adjusted it, and laid on top of her bed. She had work to do.

To her shame, only the first two orgasms were fake. After an hour of pleasant tinging from the vibrator, her pussy had grown sloppy and wet, and even the light rubbing of her clit sent pangs of ecstasy through her. It was embarrassing, but joy was hard to come by these days, and she refused to fault herself for finding some. She gave in to the pleasure, and spent the next three hours riding wave after wave of it.

The hardest part of the day was emailing the video. Christine knew all too well that she was putting herself even more under his power. It would be yet another card he could hold against her as insurance on her behavior. But she was already caught.

She spent the rest of the day studying as her parents had demanded, albeit naked and in bondage gear, and changed just a few minutes before they got home. There were no further notes from Jordan, nothing to let her know if there had been a problem or if she'd performed well enough.

On Tuesday morning, there was another note on her bed.

“Hello, Christine. That was a lovely video you made for me. I almost couldn't resist masturbating to it, but I held out. I have to save some cum for your guts, after all.

“Speaking of which, there is one more part of Friday night that I forgot to mention in the last note. After you have finished pleasuring me with your asshole, you will use your tongue to clean your filth off of my dick. You will do this without prompting and without complaint, and when you are done you will thank your master for a delicious meal. Disobedience will be punished.

“Because I am a generous master, I have decided to give you a day to familiarize yourself with the taste beforehand. Once you have finished reading this note and getting changed, you will go downstairs and fetch a bowl from the kitchen. You will squat over this bowl and do your business, and then get on your hands and knees and eat it like a dog. Because I imagine this will be thirsty work, you will do likewise with a bowl of piss. If I do not have a video of all this by the end of today, including you licking both bowls clean, I will be very unhappy with you.”

The first thing Christine did after reading the note was run to the bathroom and throw up. She clung to the toilet for nearly half an hour, emptying out the contents of her stomach. It was too much. She knew she didn't have a choice, but she couldn't do what he was asking. To eat and drink her own... she put her head over the toilet again, nothing coming out anymore but bitter, acidic strands of bile.

When she finally stumbled back into her bedroom, there was a new note waiting for her, handwritten this time. “Hello, Christine. I stopped by and couldn't help noticing your reluctance for today's task. If it helps, imagine waking up in the middle of the night, every night, choking on a fat turd straight from yours truly. That's only one of the things I'll do to you if I don't get my video today.

“I suppose I should thank you for taking your time, though. That gave me the chance to think of one final addendum to today's task...” The note continued on.

She was nearly sick again after reading, but her stomach had exhausted itself. Crying, she took off her clothes and put on the bondage gear, then went downstairs.

When they were ready, she regarded the two bowls in front of her, one filled with slimy shit, other with dark yellow urine. They both smelled awful.

Christine stared into her webcam, her expression haunted. It took her more than an hour to work up the nerve to do what needed doing. It wasn't courage that finally motivated her, just channeled fear, the raw terror of knowing what would happen if she faltered driving her.

First was his cruel joke. She pulled the ball gag out of her mouth, leaving it dangling on her chin. “I'm... I'm a dirty little piggy,” she told the camera. “Oink. Oink. Oink.” Then she brought her head down and began the disgusting meal. There was no dignity to it, no propriety. She just wanted it over as fast as possible, so she slurped and sucked and chewed in a flurry. She felt exactly like the dirty pig she'd called herself.

Most of the filth was gone in less than two minutes. Licking the bowls clean took much longer, especially without the use of her hands. She had time now to really taste it, the bitter dirt taste of her feces and stale saltiness of her piss. Her stomach rumbled and threatened to spill its contents several times, but she was able to hold back. Inside her head she blared symphonies, movies, anything to distract her mind from what she was doing. She even tried to focus on the pleasure of the vibrator inside her, despite her disgust over being aroused at a time like this.

Nearly an hour had passed before both bowls were completely empty and shining with saliva. She scrambled to her feet, and rushed to the bathroom to vomit one final time. By the time she stepped out, an entire bottle of mouthwash and half a tube of toothpaste had been used.

Chapter Eleven

“Hello, Christine,” began Wednesday's note. “I have a feeling you don't like me very much after yesterday. Perhaps if you'd known what my anger felt like before you betrayed me, you would've better appreciated my kindness in only making you fuck and suck.

“Appreciation is the name of the game today, Christine. We were both virgins the first time, so you've never gotten to experience what other dicks are like, have you? Maybe being with someone else will help you appreciate what a caring lover you gave up. I'm such a wonderful person, in fact, that I've left you a new gift to use today, something you'll deeply appreciate when the time comes.

“Don't worry, I'm not going to make you go out and fuck some stranger. This will be someone you already know, even love. Maybe the two of you will make it work where we failed?

“First, you'll bring Bailey to your room...” The instructions that followed were long, detailed, and explicit. Christine felt filthy just reading them. She couldn't do this! She knew Jordan wasn't going to accept that, but she just couldn't!

“please not this” she wrote on the note. “ill do anything else please”.

For the next twenty minutes she waited nervously, occasionally pacing back and forth. When Jordan's answer arrived, it came in the form of seven polaroid photos that appeared on her bed. She picked up the first one nervously, not understanding what she was seeing at first. It was just an ordinary school locker, like the kind they used at school. But then she saw the flash drive taped to the side of it, labeled “Christine Summers' Dirty Secrets”.

Her heart began to race as she looked at the other pictures. All of them had a flash drive just like the first in it. Six of the seven were in other students' lockers, and the seventh was taped to the windshield of her father's car. She turned the photos over and found a handwritten note on one of them.

“I don't even know how soon someone might find one of these, Christine, or what will happen if they do. If you don't want to find out, then send me my video. I'm not removing them until you do.”

Christine stared at the pictures for another few seconds, and then she bolted down the stairs to get started.

“Heeehr boyhh,” she called a short while later, leading Bailey to the center of her room. “Guuhhd boyhh.” The shaggy dog whuffed at her, tongue panting in a doggy grin. He gave a confused whine as she gently pushed him over onto his side, but made no attempt to get back onto his feet.

Her words were garbled by Jordan's “gift”, a new gag. Instead of a ball, this one had a large and thick metal ring. Dangling from the front was a rubber stopper on a silver chain.

Feeling strangely guilty, Christine brought her head down to the small red stick at his crotch. The Summers family had chosen not to neuter their dog, deciding that it was too cruel to do just to make handling him easier. Christine had never regretted their decision until now.

Bailey whined again as she licked him through the ring gag, his penis stirring but not growing any longer. Despite its smallness, it felt stiffer than Jordan's did when he was soft.

He grew excited as she kept licking him, thrusting his hips back and forth with increasing energy, but his penis continued to show almost no reaction. Confused, she tried stroking him up and down with her hand too, as Jordan had made her do during more than one lunch break in the bathroom.

The reaction was almost immediate. The thrusting magnified, and his penis began to grow before her eyes, much faster than she would've expected. At the same time, a lump started swelling up at the base. Even though he'd just gotten an erection, Bailey stopped thrusting and began to cum, his semen spraying up like a fountain. As ordered, she kept licking him. Nearly twenty minutes had passed before his penis began to shrink and the output stopped.

By that time, his cum was everywhere. The floor, the desk, the bed, and of course, on her. Her entire body was splattered with his seed. It felt gross, and she itched to clean herself off, but Jordan's instructions had explicitly warned her to leave it on the whole day.

That had been the easy part. Next came the cleanup. Christine hunched over the floor and began licking up the scattered drops of dog semen. Having to swallow it would have been bad enough, but her orders were to keep it all in her mouth. This requirement got progressively harder as she lapped up more and more of Bailey's cum off every surface it had gotten on. By the end of it, she couldn't stick out her tongue without some spilling out, so she had to scoop drops up with her finger instead and then suck them off. She'd never felt more filthy.

When the only cum left was what was plastered on her body, she pointed her mouth towards the camera, as instructed, to proved that it was full of sperm. Then she plugged her gag closed with the stopper.

Her job was two thirds done, but the most difficult part was yet to come. Christine got on all fours, and pulled the vibrator out of herself, sticky and wet. The smell of her arousal filled the room quickly, and she could see its effect on Bailey. He rolled back on his feet, and padded towards her.

She gasped as he lapped at her wet pussy. That... that shouldn't have felt so good. He did it again, and she couldn't tell whether she wanted him to stop or keep going forever. She quivered, pleasure and shame mingling.

Christine reached back and found her clit, rubbing it furiously while Bailey's big tongue continued running over her soaking crotch. It wasn't lust that drove her, it was orders. Jordan's note had been very clear on this point: while Bailey was licking her pussy, she had to cum on camera. He'd warned her that in the first video it had been obvious which orgasms were fake and which were real, and this one needed to be genuine. If she couldn't cum before he stopped, she would have to start all over from the very beginning.

Fifteen minutes passed before her body began to shake, overwhelmed by physical sensation. She lost her balance and flopped down, still twitching with pleasure as Bailey kept going at it. She tried to push him away gently and he ignored her, tail wagging as he licked her. She tried to push harder and show him she was serious, but her limbs felt like wet noodles after the powerful orgasm, and, and he felt so good.... No, she silently moaned. No, she couldn't, she couldn't...

She did. Even though Jordan had only demanded she finish once, she came a second time from Bailey's eager tongue. And a few minutes later a third. Soon after that the dog finally began to lose interest, and Christine was able to recover enough to get away from him. She gave the camera a miserable look, feeling more wretched than ever before. Jordan had forced her to do it the first time, but the other two had been entirely her fault. She'd let her dog lick her out without any outside coercion, and Jordan was going to have it on video.

She felt like a dirty, disgusting slut, but at least it was almost over. There was only one final humiliation. Christine pulled the stopper out of her gag, showing the camera that all the dog cum had remained in her mouth the entire time, then gulped it down.

Chapter Twelve

“Hello Christine. After seeing how much fun you were having with your doggy lover yesterday, I can't even imagine what the two of you have been getting up to in the meantime. I know it will be difficult, but you'll have to keep it in your pants today, though, at least until your day's assignment is done. Feel free to get back to doing what you love after :)

“I will appear in front of you three times. You are to be on your knees, in full gear minus the gag, and with your hands behind your back. When I appear, you will immediately begin the first half of today's lesson: throatfucking.

“The first time I appear, you will have five minutes to fit my entire prick down your throat. If you fail to meet this deadline, I will immediately broadcast all three videos you've made for me so far out to everyone I can find.

“The second time I appear, you will have only two minutes to swallow my dick. The third time, only thirty seconds. These will be tight deadlines, but I have faith in your ability as a cocksucker.

As for the second half of the lesson... we'll leave that as a surprise :D”

It took three hours for him to appear the first time. Three hours of anxious, nervous waiting, knowing that if she didn't perform well enough, her life would be over. Christine's knees were killing her by then from being trapped in the same position.

When he finally showed up, her hands were cuffed, and the old blindfold was back on. Neither of these were a particular surprise, but she hadn't expected the third addition: something clipped onto her nose that sealed her nostrils shut. Panting through her mouth, already in a panic, she had to seek out his cock with her tongue.

When she found it, Christine immediately tried to swallow him, but as soon as he hit the back of her throat she gagged and pulled away. The next two attempts ended the same way.

“Tick tock,” came Jordan's voice. His real voice, no longer masked. He had no reason to hide anything from her now. “Three minutes”.

Frantically she sought out his cock again. She took him in slowly this time, letting his head butt up to the entrance of her throat and then gradually pushing, fighting the growing urge of her gag reflex. The first time she had to stop, coughing, but the second time worked, and the head of his cock ended up wedged in her throat.

She realized then that she couldn't breathe, and instinctively pulled back for air. “Two minutes,” Jordan announced. Christine went back, taking him into her throat again.

More prepared for the lack of oxygen this time, she continued to push her face closer to him, feeling his dick slide deeper and deeper into her gullet. “One minute”.

After what felt like an eternity, she felt prickly hairs against her nose, and realized she'd reached his pubes. His entire cock was now in her throat, the sensation both obscene and immensely uncomfortable.

“Twenty seconds to spare,” said Jordan calmly. “Now for part two.”

She thought he was cumming at first. It wasn't until a few seconds later, when his cock remained a hard painful lump inside her, and the stream of liquid had increased instead of slowing down, that she realized the truth. Jordan was pissing down her throat.

She groaned with humiliation and shame, and even with the dick in her mouth he seemed to understand her perfectly. “Quit your whining, bitch. You're just a toilet today. Toilets don't talk back.”

He was right. She was just a toilet. Christine cried quietly as Jordan finished his business. Once his bladder ran dry, he pulled out of her, and was gone.

The second time occurred about two hours later. She had an easier time swallowing his dick, which was good, because she barely made it in by the time limit. It felt worse the second time than it had the first, not only because her throat was now sore, but because she knew what would follow. Another long stream of urine was fired straight into her stomach.

The third time occurred late, so late Christine was worried her parents would arrive home soon. Knowing that he'd given her only seconds to work with, she all but threw herself on his dick, praying that her willpower would overcome her gag reflex. It worked.

She braced herself for another round of piss, but instead Jordan grabbed her head by the ears and pumped her head back and forth, fucking her throat on his dick. Her gag reflex kicked in again, but her throat muscles were no match for him, and she gagged uselessly around his prick as she began to slowly choke to death.

Just when she was on the verge of passing out, he began to cum down her throat. Actual cum this time, not piss. Even half delirious from oxygen deprivation, she felt the burning shame of being grateful to be fed semen instead of urine.

His dick softened and slipped out of her, but his hands remained around her head, holding her still. He said nothing, but he didn't have to. With resignation, she opened her mouth wide, and caught the oncoming stream of piss. She swallowed it all down like a good toilet, and he vanished without a word.

Chapter Thirteen

“Hello, Christine. Today's the big day! :D

“Since tonight will be so important, I'm leaving you the whole day to plan. I suggest you think about it very carefully. I will be judging your performance, seeing if you can truly embrace your new life as my sex slave.

“I want to see obedience.

“I want to see enthusiasm.

“I want to see a hungry slut who loves having her master in her.

“I want to see a humble slave who understand that she ranks lower than a crushed maggot.

“At the end of the night, and not a moment before, I will let you know my judgment. Let me be clear: I'm in no mood to go easy on you. Give it your all or don't even bother. If I find you lacking, I will find excuses to keep you at home, so that we can continue with more lessons. Harsher, more degrading lessons that will make you think back on this week like it was a relaxing vacation. If you do manage to pass, we'll go back to the old ways. It won't be exactly the same as what we had before, but some bridges can never be unburnt.

“Because I'm such a caring person deep down, I've enclosed a list of some of my favorite BDSM videos and stories. I hope you can appreciate that every time I came to one of them, it was while picturing you in my mind. Feel free to use them to draw inspiration from. Or don't. I've already had lots of fun ideas for ways to play with you if you fail this test, and I won't mind the chance to try them all out ;)”

Christine sat on her bed and closed her eyes, allowing herself to cry softly for a few minutes. Then she wiped away her tears, pulled out a pen and paper, and queued up the first video.

********************

She was there, kneeling and waiting. He let time unfreeze and stood in front of her, silent.

Christine flinched at his sudden appearance, but recovered quickly and bowed her head. “I... I am sorry, master. I was a dumb, foolish bitch for challenging your authority.”

He gave no response.

“I did not appreciate the tender love that master was showing me,” she continued. “I broke his heart, and for that I deserved everything he did to me this last week.

“I am scum. I am garbage. I am a shit eating, dog fucking sex slave. I should be honored that master can stand to be in the same room as me, let alone be willing to bless my body with his wonderful dick.

“Now I... I will demonstrate how sorry I am by giving master what I would never give anyone else in the entire world: my anal virginity. I will do my best to make master's dick fall in love with my tight butt.”

He felt a small smile play across his face, but he gave no other reaction. Christine swallowed nervously.

“I... I've thought long and hard about what position would best please master. I believe I've found it.”

Slowly she stood, and walked to her desk. She bent down over it, spreading her legs, and used her hands to grip the sides. “This is the position I was in the first night, when master first claimed me. This was what he chose to enjoy my virgin pussy. I believe it, it's appropriate that the same position be used for my virgin asshole, save for one clear difference: I am no longer bound. Master does not need to tie me down to make me obey anymore, does not need to hide his appearance or gag me. I will service him freely, riding his cock like the... the well trained slut he's made me into.”

She heard him coming closer, and pushed her ass out towards him. “I'm not telling you no this time, master. I'm telling you yes. Always yes. Whatever you want.”

Christine put her hands back and spread herself open, showing him the hot hole waiting. Beneath, the flat base of the vibrator was still inside her.

It was like a dream come true. Jordan stepped forward. Her anal ring was a little stiff, but making her wear the butt plug all week had paid off. It took only a modicum of effort to wedge the head of his cock into her.

Christine shuddered, gasping in pain. For several long seconds, the only sound in the room was her labored breathing. “I... I am so happy,” she whispered. He couldn't see her expression, but he could see the tears dripping down onto the desk. “M-master... feels so good in there...”

With a clear effort of will, she gripped the sides of the desk again, and began to push back on him. He stood still, letting her do all the work, watching in fascination as her asshole slowly swallowed him, one millimeter at a time. It was warm and tight and glorious in there, like a glove that had been made just for him. A single drop of blood ran out the side of her stretched hole.

By the time he bottomed out, her whole body was trembling from the strain. “I... do I feel good, master?” she stammered. “I... I only want to... to make you feel good...” She wiggled her behind, seeking even deeper penetration despite the obvious agony.

He held his tongue, content to enjoy the sweet. smooth tunnel. After a second's hesitation, she moved forward, her asshole slowly sliding down the length of his shaft until it cradled his head in a warm embrace. Then she reversed, swallowing him back up at that same slow, leisurely pace.

She continued the slow back and forth movement for several minutes. “If... master wants to change the speed, he need only ask,” she said eventually, panting. “His slave will do all the work pleasing him, but she will act as he d-directs. Master does not need to speak a word, only tug my hair, or my nipple clamps, or slap my ass. After all, I am... I am master's ride animal. You tug my reins to... to let me know where to go.

“One tug is... is for this. Master's slave will pleasure him slow.. s-sensually, to prolong the experience, let them both savor his... his cock inside her. When he wishes, I will ride you... ride you for hours and hours and... like this, without complaint.

“Two tugs means fast. I know how much master likes... likes it fast. Your slave will fuck you hard... hard enough to make my tits j... jiggle and bounce, like you love...

“And three... three means that master wants to cum. I will... will do whatever it takes to wring the cum out of... out of your wonderful dick.

“Whatever master chooses, I am his to... to command.” She fell silent, still fucking him at that measured, tantalizing pace.

Intrigued, he reached out and gave her hair two sharp tugs. She responded immediately, letting out a feigned squeal of pleasure. “Oh yes! Slave will work hard for master!” Her asshole was still tight, but her hips began slapping against his, her knuckles white as she pushed herself back and forth at full speed.

Slow had felt good, but this... this was amazing too. Her anal ring was no longer a tight focused band traveling up and down his shaft. As it moved faster, the sensation became less specific, more of a general sense of pleasure across his entire dick.

Jordan sensed that he was almost on the verge of cumming. If he surrendered to that mounting feeling, he'd spurt within moments. But he didn't want that just yet.

He gave her ass a hard slap, enough to leave a bright handprint. “Yesss, master!” she groaned, her pace slowing. “Your slave wants this to keep going too. If only... if only master could fuck my asshole all night long. I would be... I would be the happiest slave in the whole world.

“Of course... of course master does not need to hold back when he doesn't want to. Once he has cum, I... I will follow the second most important rule of being master's slave. The first is... is that I fuck master whenever and however he wants. The second is to... to make master want to fuck me. I will do whatever it takes to get master hard again, so that he can have me over and... over.”

Even at the slower pace, her words were intoxicating. Every slow, steady thrust around his dick felt like it was about to milk out his cum. Reaching for her hair, he tugged once, twice, and then a third time, pulling her whole upper body back towards him.

Her hips became a sudden blur, and he felt her anal muscles tighten down on him. “Give it me, master,” Christine begged. “Give me your cum... my asshole needs it... it's so hungry for you... please...”

Numb with pleasure, Jordan obeyed, his hot seed pouring out. Her tight hole drank it all up, squeezing every last drop out of him in almost no time at all.

He stepped backwards, limp cock slipping out of her, and waited to see if she would continue her performance.

She didn't disappoint. Swiveling around, she knelt, and her tongue immediately began making the rounds. He watched her cover his shaft and head in her spit, then set to work on his pubic hair, intent on taking care of every last speck of shit, blood, and cum. She even ducked her head to lap carefully at his balls.

Once he seemed completely clean, she apparently decided on her own initiative to fuck him with her throat. She took his stiffening cock into her mouth and deeper. She gagged as she did so, but kept it up, pulling back slowly until she was practically kissing his head, then going back down.

Her eyes glanced up at him, and he thought he understood what she was trying to say. He reached a hand out to her hair and she nodded. Two tugs later, she was bouncing her head up and down on his shaft, sputtering and drooling but making no attempt to slow down.

While she did all this, Jordan thought hard about her behavior so far tonight. He knew that regardless of what had happened earlier this week, she found cleaning his dick disgusting. Just as she no doubt still hated anal sex. And he'd wager she wasn't fond of throatfucking either. Yet she'd done all three so easily. There were two possibilities: in the first, she was still trying to play him. This was just a longer version of what she'd done before, trying to get him to lower his guard and slip up. If that was the case, her training had not been sufficient yet, and would need to discipline her seriously over the coming weeks. The other possibility...

Christine belched suddenly, and yanked her head away from him half a second before retching, vomit bubbling out of her mouth to splash all over the carpet. She went completely pale. “I-I-I'm sorry master!,” she said, speaking quickly. “I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!”

To his astonishment, she began to lick her own mess off the floor, still speaking in between. “Your slave is... *lick*... not yet used to... *lick*... master's fat cock in her... *lick*... her throat.. *lick*... she needs... *lick*... more practice... *lick*... she'll clean all of this... *lick*... every last drop... *lick*... I swear... *lick*... I swear... *lick*... please don't hurt her... *lick*... I'm sorry... *lick*... I'm so sorry...”

Jordan could no longer hold back his laughter. This wasn't a con. She wasn't trying to play him. This was pure fear. She'd broken, just like he'd wanted. “No worries, pet,” he said, rubbing her hair affectionately. “Your master isn't angry. Just clean it all up, and then get on the bed. I want to see how good you are at anal cowgirl.”

She proved to be very good indeed, making up for her lack of experience with enthusiasm. He ran her through a whole gamut of positions that night, and she performed fantastically at each and every one. Her came in her ass no less than six times, and was treated to a warm tongue bath after every load. She managed to throatfuck him to completion once too, and though she threw up two more times in the process, not a single drop escaped her attention.

Jordan laid on her bed, pleasantly exhausted. Christine crouched on top of him, licking his soft dick in an effort to get him hard again. He pushed her away, hard enough to knock her to the floor, but she made no complaint, just knelt in front of him, waiting for further commands.

“I think you've completely drained my balls tonight, slave,” he said. “We keep going, I'm gonna start shooting blood.”

“Will master come back tomorrow night for more?” Christine asked.

“Do you want me to?” he asked.

“Your slave always wants her master around!”

He cleared his throat. “Cut the bullshit for a second; I want an honest answer. Do you want me to show back up tomorrow night and fuck your asshole again?”

She looked away. “...No...” she whispered. “Of course not... that was... it was so awful... I had to...” She flinched and turned back to him. “But I won't complain!” she insisted in a panic. “I'll say and do everything you want, just like I did tonight! I'll be your slave, I promise! You don't have to keep hurting me!”

Jordan grinned. “That's good,” he said. “That's perfect.“ He settled back down onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “Now tell me how much you'd love it if I came back tomorrow.”

Christine squeezed her eyes shut for a second, and he could almost see the gears shifting in her head. “Oh yes, master, I would be so grateful! My ass still needs a lot of training, and your dick is such a wonderful teacher. Maybe if I'm a really good girl, master will even fuck me himself. Oh, if he grabbed hold of my tits and thrust hard into my ass, I think I'd just melt!”

“Suck my dick while you talk, slave. I think I've got one more load hiding in there after all.”

Her mouth closed around him, hot tongue swirling. Her words became gibberish, but the words themselves didn't matter, just the desperate, terrified desire to please behind them. He began to stiffen again.

Part Four - Ambition

Chapter Fourteen

Christine didn't look at herself in the mirror as she got ready for school.

She didn't want to see what she'd become. She'd once thought that she was strong, that she was someone who wouldn't give up under any kind of adversity. Last week had proven her completely wrong.

She tried not to think about the weekend. Jordan had spent every night with her. He'd taken her pussy a few times, and she'd sucked him to completion a few more, but almost every time had been in her ass. God, it ached. She could still feel his sperm in there, sticky and itchy in her guts. She'd tried to wash herself out several times, but it hadn't helped. She was starting to think that the sensation would never go away. Especially since she was increasingly certain he was going to continue using her like that every chance he had.

Christine spun toward her reflection. “I did what I had to!” she hissed softly. “If I'd been brave, he just would've found another way to fuck me!”

She stared at herself. She looked so tired. Defeated. She'd given up everything she had, every last trace of dignity and self respect.

She looked away, and continued getting ready.

********************

The gossip around her hadn't died while she'd been gone. Everywhere she went, she heard soft, malicious laughter. Even her friends wouldn't hang out with her that morning. Nadine looked like she wanted to say something, but one of the other girls tugged at her arm and whispered something in her ear, and Nadine nodded and left with her.

At another time, the sudden isolation would have been devastating. Christine had lost every last ally she had. She was on her own, and she'd learned the hard way that she alone was not enough. But she had bigger worries on her mind now. Besides, she didn't deserve to have friends. Like she'd told Jordan, she was just garbage. Better if she accepted that.

Jordan's message arrived during second period. “Welcome back party on the third floor :D You know the time and place. Don't be late!”

A second message arrived about five minutes later. “Put your slave clothes on in there.”

Christine panicked. Those things were back at home! “I'm sorry, master,” she wrote. “Your slave was too stupid to brin-”

And then there was more writing. “No worries, I just put them in your bag. I even went and brought you a shiny new butt plug, now that your ass can take it. Aren't I a nice master? ;) Just make sure to bring them with you from now on.”

The final note came a few minutes after that. “It's gonna be just like old times! :D :D :D”

Just like old times, indeed. Christine wished that she'd been less stubborn from the beginning. Some dick sucking, some casual sex? She'd been a fucking idiot for ever trying to fight back. If she'd been nicer, if she'd just let him have his way, he probably would've started treating her better. She really did deserve everything he'd done.

The third floor bathrooms were as empty as ever, but Christine felt acutely self conscious as she took off her clothes and put on the collar, gag, clamps, and dildos. It was a stupid reaction; Jordan had already seen her in them. But she'd worn them before in the safety of her own home, even if that safety was a joke. Now she was wearing them in public, and somehow that made it feel different.

The new butt plug wasn't as big as Jordan's dick, but still significantly longer and thicker than the first plug. She gritted her teeth as she pushed it up her sore hole.

Once everything was set, she put her clothes in her backpack and moved into the stall to wait. She kept expecting reality to flicker and the usual cuffs to appear on her wrists and ankles, but nothing happened. Where was he? Normally she would've been happy he was late. Every minute spent waiting for him was one less minute of sucking him off. But now it just made her anxious. What was going on?

Just as she was starting to wonder if he was going to show up at all, she heard the bathroom door open and a deep voice called out in a mocking tone, “Anybody hoooome?”

Christine tried to stay perfectly still and quiet as multiple sets of footsteps approached. Yes, she was mostly naked, worse than naked really, with several strangers just a few feet away. But they had no reason to think that she was here, and the stall door was closed and lock... she hadn't felt it that time. Hadn't noticed the change. But she saw it now, both of them. Her stall door had been unlocked, and a new piece of graffiti had been scrawled on the door in Jordan's handwriting: “Enjoy! :D”

And then the door was flung open, and for the first time, someone other than Jordan saw her. Saw her for the sex slave she was. Christine froze as she saw Danny standing there, flanked by two of his footaball teammates. No, this couldn't be happening. Not him.

The blond jock whistled in appreciation. “Holy fucking shit.” He turned to one of his friends. “I swear to God, I was still half convinced this was some weird fucking prank.”

Christine tried to speak, but nothing came out but mush through the gag. She reached her hands behind her head to pull it off, and discovered the third change of Jordan's she'd missed: a tiny padlock securing the straps behind her head. If she finagled the straps, she could probably pull the thing off anyway, but she hesitated. If Jordan had done it, it meant that he wanted her to keep the gag on. And whatever might occur in this bathroom for the next hour, it wouldn't be as bad as what Jordan might do if she angered him. Shaking, she let her hands drop to her lap.

Danny turned back towards her. “I have known a lot of sluts at this school, but damn, bitch, you're my new favorite!” He dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone, then punched something up. A video began playing.

It was her. Her on Monday, masturbating. Danny pushed another button and switched to Tuesday's video, Christine squatting over a bowl. “Now I know why you always turned me down. You're into some freaky shit, ain't ya? But we're willing to play along.”

Christine shook her head and made an upset, negative sound through her gag that Danny seemed to understand. “Don't worry, slut,” he said. “We paid your pimp in advance.” He gaze swept up and down her naked body, expression hungry. “If you ask me, he's seriously underselling you. Twenty bucks for a full hour with all three of us? Shit, you can't even get a decent meal that cheap these days.”

She trembled in fear. Would Jordan really set her up like this? Of course he would. Even if he thought she'd learned her lesson, she was just a toy to him now. She eyed the bathroom door. Could she make a break for it? Not yet.

Danny saw her looking toward the exit and grabbed her arm to pull her close, turning her to put her back to him. His hands went to her breasts, groping the soft mounds as he embraced her. “You can't go leaving just yet, slut,” he said right in her ear, giving her nipple chain a light tug with one finger. “You're a cheap fuck, but we're still gonna get what we paid for.”

Out in the open, Christine saw her reflection in the bathroom mirror, and the stark reality of her situation hit her. All they saw when they looked at her was the disgusting, slutty slave outfit she had on, and even if she wasn't gagged, she had a feeling they wouldn't care what they said. They had every intention of fucking her right here, right now, and they weren't going to care whether she consented or not. She twisted out of Danny's grip, sprinting for the exit.

The entire third floor would be mostly abandoned. If she could just find a good place to hide... it didn't even have to be for long, just until the end of lunch. Even just a few minutes might be all she really needed. Danny was an idiot, but not so stupid as to try raping her out there in a classroom, where there was a greater chance of someone seeing them. If he had to go searching for her, he might just give up...

A hand snagged her dangling leash as she went by and pulled, hauling her off her feet. She was dragged back towards the trio. Danny shortened his grip on her leash, until his hand was inches away from her head, leaving her no slack. “What did I just fucking tell you, bitch?!” he shouted, face red with anger, and slapped her with his free hand. “We paid for the whole fucking hour, and we're gonna get the whole fucking hour!”

He slapped her again, then unzipped his pants and pulled out his dick. “So you're gonna start by giving me the best goddamn face fuck I've ever had. If I feel any teeth, I bash them out of your skull and start over.” He grabbed the ball gag in her mouth and pulled. The straps protested for a moment, then tore, the padlock making a tinkling noise as it bounced onto the bathroom floor.

Before she could even think of something to say, he forced her down into a crouch and shoved himself into her mouth. Christine gagged at the foul, sweaty taste. She sucked Jordan's dick so often that it didn't have much of a chance to get dirty anymore, and she'd almost forgotten what that tasted like. She tried to give him what he wanted, to suck on him, but it became immediately clear that Danny wasn't looking for a blowjob. He put his hand on the back of her head and shoved her face into his crotch, his cock burrowing into her tight throat.

Christine gagged, but only once. Jordan had spent considerable time over the weekend breaking down her gag reflex, and she barely even threw up anymore. She focused on keeping her teeth away from him, and on breathing through her nose. She just had to stay calm, and she'd be okay.

Someone grabbed her by the legs and pulled back, until she was hanging in the air parallel to the ground, held up only by their hands on her hips and Danny. “I'm gonna get a head start on her cunt,” said one of the other jocks.

Christine struggled not to panic as her vibrator was yanked out and tossed aside. “God, the slut's soaking wet,” the boy said as he replaced it with his thick cock, slamming it all the way into her and immediately pounding her hard. She had to breathe carefully. She had to stay calm. She had experience taking things in all three of her holes, even if her vibrator and butt plug were never violently penetrating like he was doing.

“Hey!” complained the third. “No fair! How am I supposed to get a piece of her like this?”

“Not my fucking problem,” said Danny. “You snooze, you lose. Wait your turn.”

“Yeah, I'll wait my fucking turn,” he grumbled, then grabbed Christine's nipple chain and pulled down hard, making her squeal in surprised pain. “Hurry up and make them cum, whore! The sooner they finish in your slutty holes, the sooner I get to go.”

“Shit yeah,” said the one using her pussy. “She gets tight when you do that. Like she's gonna rip my fucking dick off with her snatch. Keep it up!”

The third one started yanking the nipple chain again, and Christine twitched and sputtered. She... she had to... she...

She choked and coughed, suddenly unable to breathe. Her roiling stomach, already upset by the taste of Danny's filthy dick and no longer held in check by her resolve, rebelled. With her mouth plugged, the vomit exited her body the only way it could, spurting out her nose and all over her face and Danny's cock.

The senior laughed and fucked her throat harder. “I love a messy face fuck, whore! How'd you know?” Barely conscious, Christine could only shudder and gag as his puke covered dick slapped against her wet face again and again, making obscene noises.

The jock behind her came first, her involuntarily clenching pussy draining the semen out of him. She tried to beg him to pull out first, to not cum inside her, but the only noises that made it out of her were the sloppy sounds of a throatfuck.

Danny finished very shortly after, pinning her head against his crotch so he could pump his sperm into her stomach. When he was finally done, he wiped his vomit encrusted cock off on her face and hair, then let her collapse to the floor. “Who's going where next?”

“I want her pussy,” said the third jock immediately, the one who hadn't had a turn yet.

“Too bad,” said Danny. “I'm calling her pussy.”

“What?! What happened to first come, first serve?!”

“I'm the one who hooked us up with puke face, I get first dibs.”

“Then I call her mouth,” said the second, jumping into the conversation.

“Bullshit!” sputtered the third. “I'm not getting left out again!”

“Relax, dumbshit,” said Danny. “Her asshole's open.”

The third jock brightened up. “Oh yeah! I'm gonna tear that shitter apart! … Hey, she's trying to get away!”

Christine had been crawling towards the exit, trembling limbs barely able to support her, but the men hauled her back away from it. The third one laid down, and they pulled out her butt plug and made her squat over him and lower her asshole onto his waiting cock, until she was laying on top of him and he was thrusting up into her.

“Fuck yeah,” he chortled. “I was worried puke face would have a loose asshole when I saw that thing in her, but her backdoor's still nice and tight! A hole this good, I bet she shits cum covered turds every day! If she ain't, that pimp of hers is fucking wasting her!”

Then the second one crouched over her upper body, taking her head in one hand and her nipple chain in the other. “I'm not a gross freak like Danny,” he told her before starting her second throatfuck of the day. “So if you try to be smart and throw up on me, I'll rip your damn nipples off.”

He blocked her view of everything, so she couldn't see when Danny entered her pussy, but she felt him. “I always knew I'd get into Christine Summers' pants someday,” he told the others. “And now here I am, balls deep in puke face's tight dripping cunt. Ain't life great?”

“You think that hole's great?” said the third, already panting with desire. “Wait till you try this fucking asshole!”

“Oh, I will,” Danny promised. “I will.”

All three boys came in a matter of minutes, while Christine squirmed and ached between them. They stood, relaxed and happy, while she moaned on the floor.

“Hey Danny,” said the second jock. “Didn't her pimp send you something about her ass?”

“Oh yeah! What was it...” He pulled out his phone and punched some buttons. “Uh, here it is: 'after you use her ass, remind my whore that she's still a slave, and needs to follow proper etiquette, even with others.' The fuck do you think that means?”

Christine knew, though the knowledge made her sick. She struggled up to her knees, and turned her face to the third boy's cock, licking off the filth from her anus. The whole task, from head to balls, took only two minutes, and she finished the way Jordan liked, by kissing the head and saying “Thank you for using my filthy asshole, and thank you for the privilege of getting to clean up my mess. It was delicious.”

The boys exchanged glances. “Puke face is one fucked up whore,” said the second boy. “For a minute there, I almost thought she wasn't really in to this stuff.”

“Nah,” said Danny. “I told you man, she's just a weird kinky slut. Didn't you hear what she was doing that got her suspended? You loved every minute of the pounding we just gave you, didn't you puke face?”

Christine swallowed. “...Yes, sir. I loved it.”

He smirked. “Man, to think, I totally had the wrong idea about you all these years. Thought you were some prissy little goody two shoes, when you were really just another cock hungry bitch, weren't you?”

“...Yes, sir.”

“Well let's make up for lost time!” He slapped her butt. “Now get over here and stuff my cock in that ass, puke face!”

She did. She rode him while one his friends plowed her cunt and she titfucked the other. Then after she'd licked Danny clean and thanked him, the one boy who hadn't tried her ass yet took for it for a ride, while Danny and the other alternated throatfucking her. They yanked her head from one crotch to the other every couple minutes, changing which cock was buried in her gullet and which she was gently wanking with her hand. When they were both ready, they finished themselves off with their own hands while she obediently held her mouth wide open to receive their cumshots. They came in her mouth, on her face, in her eyes, and in her hair, and a minute later the third boy finished up her ass.

All three of them were a bit spent after that, but there was still fifteen minutes to go, so they made her suck on all of them while playing with herself. One of them decided it would be funny to piss in her mouth without warning her, and all three laughed until they cried when her only response was to meekly gulp it down and thank them for letting her enjoy her favorite drink (another rule of Jordan's). After seeing that, the other two had make her swallow their piss too, of course.

As they finally got ready to go, Danny pulled a crumpled and dirty dollar bill out of his pocket. “Can't go forgetting the tip, right puke face?” he said cheerfully, and shoved it as far into her asshole as his fingers could reach. All three of them started getting dressed, laughing about the good time they'd just had, while Christine just laid on the floor in an exhausted heap, covered in sweat, cum, and vomit.

And then several teachers barged through the door.

They stared at her in shock, taking in her filthy appearance, and shame brought fresh tears to her eyes. She heard them shouting at Danny and the others, ordering them to get on the ground, but she barely heard it. There wasn't going to be any hiding this.

********************

It was a long time before she was allowed to go home.

She didn't see Danny or his friends, though she could sometimes hear Danny bellowing in rage from another room. Everything on their phones that related to her “pimp” was gone without a trace, and their story about it dismissed as a cheap lie.

One of the teachers found a blanket to cover herself with eventually, and once at the station someone handed her a set of fresh clothing and sent her to the bathroom, so that she could remove the bondage gear and get dressed. The gear itself was taken away as evidence after that, and as Jordan wanted, the first thing she asked the officers when they came to question her was if she could have it back. She didn't miss the look of disgust on their faces.

The police had many questions for her, and she answered them just as she'd been instructed, via notes on her arm that Jordan had left and then erased. She told them that she'd gone up to the third floor bathroom to strip off her clothes, put on her bondage gear, and masturbate on the toilet, as she did on her lunch break most days. Danny had somehow found out about her habit, and that day, he and his friends had barged in and assaulted her.

Jordan was the hero of the hour. The teachers and police both told her how he'd overheard Danny and the others discussing their plan and followed them, how he'd gone running into the teacher's lounge begging them to come and save her. She saw him at the station in person too. It was rare these days, to see him as an actual person and not her master. He came running and embraced her, telling her that the nightmare was over. That she was safe now. He kissed her on the lips, and she kissed him back like she knew he wanted.

Danny and the others were sent to jail, where they eventually plead guilty and wound up in prison.

And Jordan officially became her boyfriend.

Chapter Fifteen

The next two months weren't all that different for Christine. Jordan couldn't rape her in the third floor bathroom anymore; it would cause far too much suspicion for her to be seen going back there. But she still spent most of her time before school, after school, and during lunch breaks in supply closets or empty classrooms, debasing herself to earn his cum. He even made her suck him off right in the hall once. When she didn't make time for him, she'd find herself subjected to cruel punishments in school and worse ones at night.

He still visited her every night to rape and abuse her until he couldn't get it up anymore. Usually he appeared out of nowhere like before, but these days he sometimes came in right through the front door. Her parents would welcome him in with open arms, like he was their own son. They'd already started dropping hints about how she'd have their approval if she wanted to get married after graduating college. Christine had to smile and laugh and eat dinner with him and her family. She obeyed like a good slave.

None of her friends ever talked to her anymore. Even the teachers looked at her with barely disguised disdain. Any sympathy she might have received from knowing she'd been raped by Danny and his friends was ruined by the knowledge that it had happened because she was such a filthy pervert. News reports of what had happened, including enough juicy details to read between the lines, became the first thing anyone would see if they searched her name online, and Christine wasn't surprised when all of the colleges that had sent her glowing letters of acceptance informed her that she'd been moved to the waiting list for unspecified reasons.

Sometimes she considered taking drastic measures. Coming at Jordan with a knife or something. But they were just foolish fantasies. In private, there was no way she'd lay a hand on him, not with those powers of his. And in public... she was confident by now that he didn't want anyone else to know what he could do, but he wasn't going to let her kill him to protect his secret. At best, he'd use his powers once or twice and people would dismiss anything strange they saw as just their imagination. At worse, he wouldn't even have to use them at all. Either way, there was almost no chance she'd be able to kill him, and an almost guaranteed chance she'd end up in prison for attempted murder.

The only strategy she could see was patience. They would both be going off to college in the fall, assuming she could find one willing to take her. Once they were hundreds of miles apart, she didn't think even his mysterious ability could let him keep raping her. She'd make excuses to avoid coming home on breaks, and then... she'd get a job out somewhere, maybe change her name. Besides, once Jordan didn't have easy access to her anymore, he'd probably set his eyes on a different target. It made her feel wretched to know that she might be responsible for someone else going through the same thing as her, but she didn't see anything she could do about it.

So she waited, and she obeyed. For two months she was, as Jordan often happily told her, where every last drop of his cum ended up, and very nearly as much of his piss. His anger with her seemed to wear off over time, but his sadism towards her only increased. It didn't take long to realize that his cruelty didn't stem from a desire to punish her or teach her a lesson; he simply enjoyed making her suffer. He was a harsh and demanding master, and she was the meek slave who helped fulfill his every sexual fantasy.

And then one evening, Christine returned home to find an unfamiliar car sitting in the family driveway. She eyed it suspiciously as she walked by. There were no such thing as good surprises in her life anymore. Was it someone showing up to harass her? Maybe Jordan was sending people directly to her house to rape her now.

But when she got inside, she discovered that she knew the car's owner. “Becky!” she said, amazed. “I... why are you back from college already? I thought spring break was still weeks away!”

Rebecca grinned back at her. “What can I say? I missed my little splort.”

Christine had spent her whole life worshipping her older sister. There was only a three year difference between them, but it always felt like such a huge gap. Even now, Rebecca was in college, she could drive, she could even drink alcohol. She was like a real adult.

Her sister was everything Christine had ever wanted to be, strong and smart and confident. It all came so easy for her. Unlike Christine's boy shyness, Becky had always been fearless around guys, knowing exactly how to wrap them around her little finger. She barely needed to study, either; she'd gotten into her top college pick without even trying, breezing through all her exams. And in her last year of high school, she'd led their Track team to the nationals.

“Where are you going to sleep?” Christine asked. “I-I moved into your room, so will you take my old one?”

Rebecca's smile faded just a little. “We're gonna be bunking together, Chrissy. It'll be like a sleepover every day!”

Ah. Christine suddenly understood why Rebecca was home so early. Her parents thought Christine needed a keeper. They'd been trying to get her to spend time with them more and more, but she couldn't defy Jordan, so she had keep making excuses for staying holed up in her room for hours on end. And after the police and the suspension, and Danny... they didn't trust her anymore. They hadn't even tried to talk to her about it directly.

It stung, but only a bit. If her sister was going to be keeping tabs on her, it gave Christine the perfect excuse for Jordan. He'd no doubt push her to find ways to get herself alone from time to time, but he couldn't completely dominate her evenings anymore.

After dinner, Christine helped Rebecca move a futon into the bedroom. “I'm just gonna chill out up here for a little while,” said her sister, sounding slightly embarrassed. “Play some games on my phone. You can go ahead and study.”

Christine smiled reassuringly at her, trying to show her that her presence was welcome. “Sure thing, Becky. Don't worry about it.” She settled down to study.

As she'd expected, it didn't take long for Jordan to comment on the situation. “The heck is your sister doing here?” was suddenly scribbled across one page of her textbook.

Christine glanced behind her to make sure Rebecca wasn't watching her too closely, then wrote back. “I'm so sorry, master, she's home from college early and staying in my room. I won't be able to serve you tonight like usual. I'll be so horny without you, but I'll have to make up for it some other time.”

She could almost hear the sullenness in his reply. “Fine. You'd better be prepared for some serious fucking at lunch then.”

“Oh thank you, master,” she promptly answered. “I'll look forward to it!” When no further messages came, Christine breathed a small sigh of relief. For tonight, at least, she was safe. She carefully erased every trace of the writing away just to be safe, then resumed her homework.

Behind her, Rebecca coughed. “Things have been kinda hectic around here lately, haven't they?”

“...Yeah.”

Rebecca rolled off the futon and sat down on one corner of the desk. “Alright, that was my attempt at subtle. I suck at subtle. What you told the cops about Jordan Seeler... did you really make it all up?”

Christine tried to meet her sister's piercing eyes, but quickly gave up and stared at the floor instead. “...Yes, I made it all up. He... I got mad at him over something stupid, so I... I tried to get back at him... I didn't realize how serious my prank was.”

“And the stuff you did at school, that got you suspended?”

“Just... just looking for attention.”

Rebecca sighed. “Christine, you're a lousy liar.” Christine suddenly found herself swept up in her sister's arms. “He did rape you, didn't he?”

“...No no...” Christine started to shake. “I... I lied about it...”

“No.” Her sister's voice was firm. “No, you didn't.”

Christine's vision began to blur with tears. “I was just looking for attention... like everybody said... just making up stories...”

Rebecca squeezed her tighter. “It's okay, Chrissy. It's okay. I believe you. I believe he raped you. You weren't lying about it.”

Christine tried to struggle out of the hug, but Rebecca was stronger than she was. “No... I'm just a stupid whore... just a lying worthless bitch...”

“I believe you,” Rebecca said softly. “You weren't lying.”

“No... no you don't... nobody believes me...”

“I do, Chrissy. I believe you.”

The dam inside her broke. “I... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... I tried not to let him... but I... I wasn't good enough... it was my fault... I'm sorry...” Christine kept trying to apologize, but the words dissolved into sobs.

Rebecca shushed her gently. “It's okay, Chrissy. It's all going to be okay. I'll make sure of it.”

Christine started. “No! Becky, you have to stay away from him! I mean it! He has... he... I can't go against him, okay? He says he'll ruin my whole life if I don't do what he says, and he can do it!”

“Alright,” said Rebecca. “I'll stay away from him. I promise.”

Chapter Sixteen

“Hey Jordan!” Rebecca called. “You got a minute?”

“Uh, sure, I guess,” Jordan replied, stopping to let her catch up to him. It was early morning, and he'd been on his way to school. Christine's sister was wearing jogging clothes, tight sweatpants and a tighter shirt that didn't cover her midriff. Her fat boobs strained against the shirt, jiggling deliciously with every step she took, and Jordan could only hope his erection wasn't visible.

It was all Christine's fault, leaving him with blue balls last night. Masturbating seemed like a wasted opportunity nowadays, so he'd decided to just hold on until lunch. Maybe he'd order her to fake a stomach illness or something first period, go to the nurse's office. They might have enough privacy in there to fuck...

He refocused his attention on Rebecca as she drew close, remembering belatedly to look up at her face instead of her tits. If she'd noticed where he'd been staring, she gave no sign, smiling and holding out her hand to shake. “Wanted to thank you for saving my sis the other day.”

“Uh, no problem,” he said, taking her hand. It was soft and warm, but she had a real grip on her. Even as he held back a wince over his crushed hand, she pulled hard, drawing him closer to her. At the same time, her knee came up, and made crunching contact with his groin.

Jordan whimpered in pain, and when she let go of his hand he fell to his side on the ground, clutching his aching crotch. “I'm not going to say 'that was for what you did to Christine',” Rebecca said, towering over him. “Because for that, you deserve your goddamn skull kicked in. So just consider that a polite notice of how I feel about you instead.”

Jordan reached out to freeze time, but the pain made his concentration waver, and his power slipped out of his grasp like sand through his fingers. Rebecca put a foot on his crotch, applying just enough pressure to keep him pinned to the ground. “Christine told me to stay away from you, said you'd ruin her life if she doesn't play along with your bullshit. I'm here to make a counter offer. You mess with her anymore, you so much as look at her in the hallway, and I will end you. All the blackmail material in the world won't stop you from spending the rest of your life eating meals through a straw and pissing with a catheter. We clear?”

He groaned. “You... stay out of my business, you, you fucking bitch!”

Her foot pressed down hard, and Jordan squealed in agony. “Say 'I'm sorry I was so rude, Miss Summers. I will leave your darling sister alone from now on.'”

When he hesitated, the pressure increased, and Jordan saw stars. “I... I'm sorry!” he blubbered, tears streaming down his face. “I'm s-sorry I was so rude, Miss Summers! I will... I will leave your darling sister alone from now on!”

To his profound relief, her foot eased up. “Don't ever forget this moment, you worthless sack of shit rapist,” she said. “If you ever see me again, it will be to give you some real reasons to cry.” She spat, and Jordan felt the warm spittle strike his face.

She was long gone by the time Jordan had recovered enough to think rationally. He called his power again, and this time it worked. He stayed there, in that silent world, basking in the solitude and safety it offered.

He... he was going to get her, he swore. But how? He had the impression that the kind of humiliation tactics he'd used effectively on Christine wouldn't go nearly as well with her sister. Even if he found an opportunity to tie her up and rape her, it wouldn't end there. He couldn't be on guard all the time, and he could imagine all too easily waking up in the middle of the night to her foot on his throat.

Shit, she wouldn't even have to be that sneaky about it. If she came for him at school or anywhere else public, he wouldn't be able to use his powers secretly. Word getting out about what he could do would be the real game over.

He had to get even with her for this, but he couldn't let her know he was getting even. How the hell was he supposed to manage that? How? He thought about it and thought about it, while time lay still around him. And slowly, despite the continuing sharp ache in his groin, he started to smile.

Chapter Seventeen

Christine was surprised when Jordan didn't ask for her at lunch. She waited in the supply closet anyway, in case it was some kind of loyalty test, but he made no appearance. After a good twenty minutes of anxious hiding, she sheepishly snuck out and spent the rest of her lunch break in the cafeteria like a real person.

She had a hunch that Rebecca was somehow responsible for this. She'd tried to warn her sister, to express the danger as clearly as possible without explicitly giving away what he could do or what he had on her, but she'd known deep down that it might not work. Becky had never been the kind of person who could see someone suffering and not lend a hand. It was one of the reasons she was so awesome.

She was grateful, but it worried her. Becky didn't understand what she was up against. How could she? Sometimes Christine still had trouble believing it herself. If Rebecca knew what Jordan could do...

Christine thought about it. Should she tell Becky everything? If anyone in the world was going to believe her, it would be her sister. It was a long shot, but if she did believe, if Christine could finally talk to someone about all she'd gone through... maybe together they'd be able to think of a way out.

“Becky?” she said that night, after dinner. “Can I... can I talk you for a minute?”

Rebecca yawned. “What's up, splort?”

“It's, um, this is going to sound crazy, but I want you to listen to the whole thing, okay?”

“Sure, sure...” Rebecca yawned again, and shifted a little on the futon. “Hey, maybe it could wait until tomorrow? I'm... I'm really...” her voice trailed off. A moment later, she started to snore softly.

Christine draped a blanket over her sleeping sister, watching her peaceful expression for a while. When she turned around to find Jordan standing right in front of her, she nearly screamed. “Jordan?! Wha-what are you doing here?”

“Taking care of the colossal pain in my ass you call a sister,” he said.

“T-taking care?”

Jordan help up a small baggy filled with white and green pills. “While you were all having dinner, I slipped enough roofies in her drink to guarantee she'll be out of it for a loooong time.”

Christine's heart sank, but she'd known he'd find some way around her sister's protection eventually. There was nothing to do but play along, so she fell back into her practiced wide, airheaded smile. “...Oh, so, so we could have time along together. That's wonderful, master! I'm so glad I'll get to serve you tonight! My pussy has been hungry lately, waiting for your creamy juice to satisfy it.”

Her master shook his head. “No, I'm not interested in a temporary solution. I'm not gonna pussyfoot around her every night. She's going bye bye.”

Christine's eyes widened. “You're going to k... kill her??”

“What, and have to explain a body? He lightly cuffed one of her breasts. “You're smarter than that, slave. No, Rebecca's just going to take a sabbatical. Permanently.” He dug out his phone. “Ever since you became my sex slave, I started doing some digging around the internet, curious to see if I could find other people with our kind of relationship. It wasn't easy to find people like that, or to gain their trust, but showing them your videos went a long way towards proving myself.”

“You... you showed other people...”

“Shut up and listen,” he said bluntly. “I blurred out your face, and didn't give them a name. The point is, there are more people out there than you'd think with their own personal fucktoys, and a lot of them are eager to expand their collection.”

He showed Christine a picture of an obese middle aged man with balding hair. “This one here lives just a couple hundred miles away, and has his own sex dungeon built in his basement, where he keeps his two pets indefinitely. He's very interested in acquiring a third, and willing to pay top dollar.

“So here's what happens next. I give him a call, and he shows up in a few hours with a tow truck. Rebecca, her car, and all her belongings vanish into the night. When she wakes up tomorrow morning, she'll begin her fabulous new life as 'fuckpet three'.

“When people ask what happened, all you know is that she said she had somewhere to go and got in her car. If you really want, you can try to tell them the truth, but I've got a feeling 'my hero boyfriend sold her' isn't going to go over well with anyone.

He started dialing. “If you've got goodbyes to say, make 'em quick. You've got some blue balls to manage once I get off the phone.”

Christine threw herself at his feet, crying. “No master! Please! Don't do it! I'll do anything, I swear to God!”

“Don't ever tell me what to do, slave!” he growled, and tried to kick her away, but she held on for dear life.

“Please, master! Please! You can do whatever you want with me, just don't hurt my sister!”

“Then what else should I do, slave? She isn't willing to listen to reason. What else could I do?”

A terrible idea struck Christine. Just the thought made her heart ache, as if she'd already betrayed her sister. It was awful. It was the last thing she wanted to see happen to Becky. But... it was better than the alternative.

“You... you could fuck her,” Christine said slowly. “Right now, while's she drugged. She wouldn't be able to stop you.”

She saw Jordan's eyes sparkle as he stopped dialing, and understood immediately. This was what he'd really been after all along. But if he'd come in here openly talking about raping her sister, she would have resisted, tried to talk him out of it. By leading with the threat of abduction, he was forcing her to offer up Becky herself, twisting it into a favor he was doing for her.

It was a trap, and she'd walked right into it, but that didn't mean she had any other options. She had to do what was best for Becky, even if the best was something horrible.

“If I do you this favor,” Jordan said, sounding like he was savoring the moment, “I'd need you to do more than watch. I mean, I'd much rather be fucking my cute and eager pet than someone who's just going to lay there and take it. You'd have to make it really good for me.”

“I... I can do that master.”

Jordan grinned. “Alright then, slave, let's give it a try. Help me get her clothes off.” Together, they stripped Rebecca down, until she lay naked on the futon, face up. As they took her shirt off, she moaned and opened her eyes, nearly giving Christine a heart attack. Her sister looked through her with half lidded eyes, seeming completely unconcerned with what was going on.

“Sh-she's awake, master!” squeaked Christine.

“Relax pet. She's not asleep, but you can't really call that awake either.” Jordan snapped his fingers a few times in front of Rebecca's face. Her head turned slightly, far too slow to keep up, then returned to staring at the same point in the wall. Some drool ran out of her mouth. “She won't remember anything that happened to her while under the influence.”

They finished undressing her. Christine had never seen her sister in the nude before, and she blushed at the sight. Becky had the lean body of an athlete, her limbs tanned and sinewy, her stomach flat with visible abs. The only part of her body that looked soft was her breasts, large and floppy with big nipples.

Jordan pushed her legs up and apart, looking down at the shaved mound between them. “Mmm, she already keeps herself neat. How kind of her. Slave, do you think your sister is very wet right now?”

“No, master.”

“Then it's probably going to hurt her a lot when I shove my dick in here, isn't it?”

“Y-you're not going to wear a condom?”

“Nah, I wanna enjoy her bareback. Now answer the question: do you think shoving my prick in her dry pussy will be painful for her, when she gets up in the morning?”

“Yes master. Your slave would be delighted to lubricate you with her mouth. She's missed your delicious taste and smell today.”

“Tough shit. You'll get your turn some other time. The question is, are you going to lick her pussy to get her wet for me?”

Christine blanched. Despite being uncomfortable around boys, she'd never felt any kind of lesbian leanings. And... and with her own sister...

Jordan laughed at her expression. “Looks like a no then. Fine by me. If Rebecca wonders why it's so hard to walk tomorrow, just tell her that it was a small price to pay for your dignity. I mean, a dog fucking, piss drinking sex slave still has to have some standards of decency, right?”

Christine flushed, shamed not only by her words, but by her own selfishness. Jordan was right. Becky was in this mess because of her, and she owed it to her sister to do everything in her power to help her, even if it was gross and filthy.

On Jordan's request, she stripped out of her own clothes and put on her collar and nipple clamps, then approached Rebecca timidly. He made her straddle her sister so that Christine's bare pussy sat on her face.

“Lick her until she cums, slave,” said Jordan. “I want that pussy juice flowing when I'm in there.”

Christine reluctantly brought her head down to her sister's crotch. Reminding herself that she'd done far worse things with her mouth, she began licking Becky's pussy. She'd tasted her own pussy on Jordan's dick before, but this had a slightly different taste and smell.

Rebecca showed no outward reaction at first, but when Christine dared to penetrate her sister's slit with the tip of her tongue, she found the inner flesh damp. As she licked a little deeper, scooping up the wetness with her tongue, she felt Rebecca stir beneath her, and something warm and wet slid over Christine's own pussy.

She yelped in surprise, pulling her head back. Becky moaned lazily and kept licking, the sensation strange and uncomfortable. Jordan looked at the pair of them, confused, and then realized what was happening and grinned. “Looks like big sis plays for the other team, slave! I bet she's a popular one too; even drugged up, she's nice enough to share the pleasure.”

Christine put her head down and got back to work, trying to ignore the sensations in her own crotch. It didn't feel good. It couldn't feel good. She was straight, and this was her si... she moaned, unable to help herself.

She realized with growing horror that she was going to cum before her sister did. Even though Becky's movements were weak and slow, she seemed to know just what to do to send thrills of pleasure down Christine's spine. Desperate not to let that happen, Christine redoubled her efforts, licking and sucking on Becky's pussy with everything she had.

She won out just barely, feeling Becky shudder beneath her, a long satisfied moan escaping the half conscious woman's lips. But even as Christine started to relax, her own system finally crashed, overwhelmed by pleasure. The two sisters quivered and shook together in the throes of orgasm.

Becky immediately started trying to lick Christine again once the orgasm had passed, but Christine scooted away, kneeling before Jordan. “Sh-she's ready for you, master, just as you wanted.”

“Mmm hmm, and what a show that was.” Jordan pushed Becky's legs up again, and without preamble shoved himself in deep. He closed his eyes and breathed out slowly. “Oh God, that feels good. There's nothing wrong with your cunt either, slave, but it sure is nice to get some variety.”

Holding on to her legs, he began fucking her in quick, short strokes. “There's only one thing missing, slave. You know what that is?”

“No, master.”

“I always love hearing your sweet encouragements while I fuck you. Since Rebecca can't talk, you'll have to take over for her there.”

“Of course, master! Oh, you feel so good in my pussy! I-”

“No no no, not like that, idiot,” he snapped. “Encourage me to fuck her, not you!”

“Oh, um... f-fuck Becky's pussy good, master! Ride her like the s-slut she is!”

“That's it, that's it! Keep going!”

Christine licked her lips. Saying humiliating things like that about herself was one thing. Cheering him on while he raped her sister felt so much worse. “R-rip that tight cunt apart! Tear it wide open and top it up with cum, just like you love to do with me, master!”

It didn't take long for Jordan to finish. He slammed his hips against Rebecca's one last time, and she twitched as his sperm shot into her. Still inside her, he addressed Christine. “Honest answer time: you want a niece or nephew?”

“..No, master, please.”

He pulled out then, leaving a trail of semen running out of Rebecca's slit and dripping down to the bed. “Then get sucking. Let me know when you think her cunt is sperm free.”

The thought made Christine queasy, but she was in no position to argue. She settled into the same position as before, and started noisily sucking her sister out. Amidst the unfamiliar taste of Becky's pussy, his sperm was immediately recognizable. The realization that Jordan's cum was now a familiar taste made her feel like trash.

Becky began licking her out again, but Christine finished her job quickly, and retreated before her sister could succeed in making her cum a second time. “Not bad,” Jordan said, swirling a finger in Rebecca's pussy, then pulling it out and examining it. “My slave didn't want to waste a single drop on her sister, did she?”

“No master, I... I wanted the yummy treat all to myself.”

“Good girl. Now rim out Rebecca's asshole so I can fuck it.”

“...Yes, master.”

Jordan flipped Rebecca onto her back, and Christine knelt between her open legs to work. Her sister wasn't especially dirty down there, but she could still taste traces of shit as she worked her tongue into Becky's hole.

“Do you like the taste of your sister's asshole, slave?”

“Yeth mathter,” Christine answered automatically, tongue still buried. She already knew what his response would be.

“Then I'll make sure you get the chance to suck my cum out of there too, after I'm done.”

“Thank you mathter.”

Jordan let her continue rimming Becky's ass for a few more minutes. “That should be good enough. Now convince me to buttfuck your sister.”

Christine crawled to one corner of the room. “Oh master, she seemed very tight back there! I think you'll-”

“Stop, stop, stop. What are you doing over there?”

Christine paused, confused. “Wh-where would you like me to be, master?”

“Come on, slave, you just helped stop your sister from getting pregnant, and made it so she won't bleed too much when I ass fuck her in a minute. Don't you think she owes you one?”

“Owes me... one... I, she doesn't owe me anything, master! It's all my fault that she's--”

“Just shut up and get on the bed. I want her licking you out while I fuck her.”

Christine complied, sitting with her legs spread and Becky's head in her lap. She gently pressed Becky's face against her crotch, and her sister responded immediately, tongue lapping away. Christine gasped and tried not to enjoy it too much.

“Don't get too distracted,” said Jordan, smiling. “I still need you as my cheerleader.”

“R-right, sorry master.” She closed her eyes. “Master is going to love my sister's tight asshole. His slave got it all wet and ready for him, so he'd should be able to dive right in.”

“Do you remember when I took your anal virginity, slave?”

“Of course, master!” As if she could ever hope to forget. “It's one of my most cherished memories.”

“That's a good point,” he said, looking pleased. “Since your sister won't be awake to remember it, we'll have to make a record for her.” He picked Christine's phone off of her desk and handed it to her. “Make sure you get a good angle on my cock reaming her out.”

“Y-yes, master...” Christine watched, holding her phone in one hand, trying to ignore her sister's tongue, while Jordan braced his cock against Rebecca's ass.

“Beg me for it.”

“Please... please rape my sister's ass. Please buttfuck her hard, just the way your slave likes it. She'll... she'll be your anal slut too in no time.”

Jordan pushed, and he sank easily into Rebecca's asshole. Christine's sister groaned, but her tongue kept moving, teasing Christine's slit impossibly well. “I want to see you cum again,” he said, fucking her at a relaxed pace. “I want her face plastered with your pussy juice while I'm spraying her guts.”

“Yes, master,” Christine said, trying not to be sick. She humped Rebecca's face slowly, not really sure what she should be doing. Rebecca seemed more than capable of getting the job done, though, and to her shame, Christine had not only finished by the time Jordan started pumping his cum into her sister's ass, she'd finished twice.

He pulled out, and Christine bent over to take him into her mouth, her swirling tongue scooping the filth off of him. “Don't forget to clean out her butt when you're done with me,” Jordan told her. “I think I'd like to go back to her cunt next, but I definitely want to leave another load in that ass before I call it a night. And then, we're gonna go get Bailey, and find out what he thinks of your sister's holes.”

“Yeth, mathter,” Christine said around his cock, trying not to cry. It wasn't her own participation in these disgusting acts that bothered her; she'd accepted a long time ago that she was a filthy toilet who deserved everything she got. But what was happening to Rebecca was entirely her fault. Her sister, her strong perfect sister, was being raped because of her. She wished she was dead, but even if she did something, he'd probably just take it out on Rebecca after she was gone.

Her tears dripped onto her sister's naked body. At Jordan's instruction, she licked them off.

Chapter Eighteen

“I'm here. Now what the hell do you want?” Rebecca asked coldly.

Jordan held up his hands in a calming gesture. “Just to talk.”

It had been two weeks since he'd started regularly fucking Christine's sister. The dumb bitch thought she kept falling asleep so early because she had a cold or something. Thanks to Christine's hard working tongue, her holes were always wet enough that he didn't do any damage, and thoroughly cleaned of cum after each use. He'd even made Christine give her own sister an enema a couple times, while he just stood back and recorded the show.

He had lots of videos of the two of them by now. Rebecca was an excellent pussymuncher, and Christine seemed to be coming along nicely too. The last two days it had taken only a few minutes to lick her unconscious sister into another orgasm, and she usually received at least twice as many as she gave out every night.

It had been a fun two weeks, but it was time to take the next step. Christine had told him that their parents were going away on a trip for a few days, just the two of them. They'd told their children that it was going to be a mini honeymoon of sorts, but Christine had found the brochures they'd hidden. Turns out having a nymphomaniac daughter making false rape accusations and getting herself gangraped was putting a strain on their relationship, and they were off to get some counseling.

With them gone, he'd have the opportunity to really have fun with his two slaves, and he was getting bored of one of them being out cold the whole time. So he'd texted Rebecca and asked her to meet him here in the park early in the morning, just after dawn. Christine had assured him her sister wouldn't back down from a confrontation, and she'd been right as always.

“First, I want you to take a look at this,” he told her, and pulled out his phone. He began playing one of their videos for her: Christine engaging in some enthusiastic sixty nining with her sister. With Rebecca's face covered by Christine's crotch, the average viewer would have no idea that she wasn't conscious. “Now, personally, I don't have any problem with two sisters showing each other some affection, but I believe the law frowns on it. If this were to be relea-”

Rebecca's fist caught him on the cheek, knocking his head to the side. She swung again, but he avoided her by skittering backwards, landing on his butt with a thump.

“D-don't you understand?!” he shouted at her. “You have to do what I say! Or you'll both go to jail!”

He tried to crawl backwards away from her, but she grabbed his shirt and hauled him up with one hand. “You're the one who doesn't understand, you disgusting little maggot,” she growled. “I don't care about your threats. I don't care about what you do to me. I told you to stay away from my sister, and you didn't. Now you spend the rest of your life in a wheelchair!”

She punched him again, once, twice. Jordan felt blood trickling from his nose. This wasn't how it was supposed to go! He had to get away! He tried to reach for his power, and in his panicked state it was like trying to grab a greased pig. It slipped away from him, so close but so far.

Rebecca let him drop to the ground, then kicked him in the ribs. He groaned and rolled over, hunched up in the fetal position. He had to focus. Jordan tried to ignore the pain, the agony of his face and sides that screamed at him. Focus. Focus. Focus...

The next blow didn't come. Terrified, several minutes passed before he dared to look up and confirm that he'd succeeded. The world stood still.

He stared at Rebecca. Why did she have to be so stubborn?! Why couldn't she just do what she was told?! And now, unless he stayed here and let her cripple or kill him, she would know about his power. He had no other choice left. She would have to disappear.

********************

“Why is your sister such a fucking bitch?” Jordan snarled, pacing back and forth in Christine's room. Christine had been working at her desk, but the sound of his voice she yelped in surprise and slid out of her chair to fall to her knees.

“I-I'm so sorry,” she said, and then gasped again as she saw his face. “Did... did she...?”

“Yes,” he snapped. “She did. And now she's finished. I gave her a chance, and she failed. You understand what she's done to herself, don't you?! If she won't be mine, if she won't let me do what I want, then she has to go away!”

Christine trembled. “Master is going to make her disappear?”

“You're damn right I am! She's probably already on her way back here. As soon as she does, I'm going to pour enough tranquilizers down her throat to drop an elephant, and then she'll be off to become an old man's cum dump. Serves the stubborn bitch right!”

“Please master!” Christine begged. “There has to be another way! Please don't do that to Becky!”

“What other way is there?! She won't respond to physical violence. She won't respond to threats. She doesn't even care if I ruin her life! There's nothing I can do to get to her. The only way she doesn't come find me and stomp me into the ground is if she's dead or trapped. She brought this on herself.”

“I...” Christine's mouth moved slowly, but no further sound came out. Jordan froze.

“You know something,” he said slowly, “don't you? Some weakness of hers, something I can use.”

Christine closed her mouth and nodded, looking miserable.

“Well, just don't sit there!” he yelled. “Tell me already, goddamn it!”

“If... if I do,” she whispered. “you won't send her away? You'll let her live her life?”

“That's up to her, slave, not me. I need her to break. If that happens, if I can be convinced that she will submit to me completely, then I can let her go. Otherwise, it's her or me, and I'm not letting her stop me. If you want to save her, this is the only way.”

She was silent for a long minute, long enough that Jordan started to wonder if she was going to talk at all. But finally she spoke, her voice hollow. “When I was, um, maybe five or six, our parents took us on vacation to the beach. They warned us not to go out too far, but Becky... Becky didn't listen. She got caught up by the current.

“She doesn't like to talk about it much, but she told me what it was like once. It was a very windy day, and the waves were choppy. They would hit her really strong, knocking her into the ocean and leaving her disoriented, barely able to tell which way was up or down. All she could do was hold her breath and pray that she would find the surface before she drowned.

“In the time it took us to notice that she was gone, and for the lifeguard to find her and save her, she nearly died countless times. If any of the waves had been just a little rougher, if she'd ever guessed the wrong direction to swim, she would've died. Ever since then, she... she stays away from water. Becky doesn't even like small spaces, places where she could potentially run out of oxygen.

“It was after that that she started really getting into sports. I guess she felt like if she'd been stronger,

more fit, then she wouldn't have gotten in trouble in the first place.”

Christine looked up at him. “Is that... is that good enough? You can use it?”

Despite his sore face and ribs, Jordan felt elated. “Yeah, that'll do, slave.”

********************

About half an hour passed before Rebecca stormed into the house. “Christine!” she shouted from downstairs. “Christine!”

Jordan stilled time long enough to walk down and meet her. “My slave is busy at the moment,” he told her, appearing just a few feet away. “You'll have to deal with me instead.”

She blinked at him and narrowed her eyes. “You... what did you do back there?! What kind of trick did you use?!”

He smiled. “I could try to explain, but all you really need to know is that I am now, for all intents and purposes, your master. And I am not happy with you.”

“You pathetic piece of...” Without even bothering to finish her sentence, she came barreling at him. It was almost too easy. He stilled, and walked up behind her. Rebecca's charge faltered as she realized he was no longer in front of her. Her head darted, trying to find him, then she spun around.

“You've been a very bad girl, Rebecca,” he told her. “Your master is going to have to start correcting your behavior.”

She growled and came at him again, with no further success. For several more minutes, the pointless chase continued. Rebecca's movements began to grow sluggish, her breathing heavy. She finally started to key into the fact that there was more going on here than just his impossible dodges, that something was happening to her. She came up short, looking confused.

“I can't have my new slave throwing temper tantrums like this anymore,” Jordan said. “Remember that brief coughing fit you had on the way over here? That moment where it felt like something had suddenly gone down the wrong way? That was me, pouring some muscle relaxants down your throat. Not enough to knock you out, just enough to make you helpless.”

She went for him one last time, and he didn't even need to avoid her. Her blow had all the strength of a wet noodle behind it, and was slow enough for even him to dodge normally. Jordan swept her legs out from under her, and she collapsed in a heap.

Rebecca tried to rise, limbs shaking, but Jordan kicked her, pushing her over onto her back, then pulled out some scissors and began cutting away her clothing. There was something satisfying about doing it in real time, feeling her struggle and writhe as he stripped her. “You, me, and Christine, we're all going to have lots of fun together from now on,” he taunted.

Her eyes flashed at her sister's name, and suddenly she was pushing him away from her. “Not my sister,” she snarled. “Never again!” Her hands closed around his throat, and Jordan found himself unable to breathe.

He stilled as fast as he could, but it didn't help. Even frozen, her grip left him no room for oxygen. He released time and tried to fight her off the normal way, but she was impossibly strong. Jordan's vision began to darken, his head already pounding. His nails scratched at her face, drawing bloody lines across her cheeks, but Rebecca never wavered, dogged determination and triumph in her expression.

No! It couldn't end this way! It couldn't! With the last of his strength, he flailed against her. Not just with arms and legs, but with his power, stilling and unstilling in a frantic effort to save himself. He pushed against time itself, even as his energy faded.

And time moved.

Jordan and Rebecca stood in the hallway, several feet of distance between them. He doubled over, gasping for air, his lungs burning, while she looked at him in utter bewilderment.

“How...” she asked, and her fingers twitched, as if still trying to close around his throat. “You...”

In almost as much shock, Jordan stared at her. There was no sign of the scratches he'd left on her face. And the clothes that he had cut off of her were completely repaired, as if nothing had happened. Had he somehow imagined the whole assault? He touched his neck with one hand, and winced. The flesh was tender. “You... you were choking me,” he said, not sure if he asking or telling her.

Rebecca's only response was to charge at him again. This time, he didn't take any chances. He immediately stilled and moved to the opposite side of the room. She gritted her teeth and tried again, but she never got close to him, and within a couple minutes, she stumbled, her body giving out on her.

Jordan crouched a safe distance away, watching her lay on the floor. “You were choking me,” he repeated, confidently this time.

She spat at him. “Your... your stupid tricks... won't work on me...”

“Tricks?” He started to laugh, and then stopped, coughing. Goddamn did his throat hurt. “I just turned back time, you stupid cunt! And you saw me do it!”

Had everyone noticed time rewinding? Jordan's stomach did flip flops at the thought. If everyone in the world had just noticed what happened, people would start having a lot of questions.

He'd deal with it later. Right now he had a new slave to enjoy.

Once Jordan was absolutely certain the drugs had immobilized her, he went after her clothes with the scissors again, until she was completely naked. He bound her arms behind her back with zip ties, then grabbed hold of her hair and began marching her upstairs. She was too weak to resist, and had to half stumble, half crawl after him if she didnt want her hair ripped from her scalp.

Christine was waiting for them in the bathroom. The tub was completely full of cold water, the bottom littered with all the ice cubes the freezer had held. Jordan didn't bother to taunt Rebecca with what was coming. He could see by her expression that she knew, saw the terror in her eyes as she stared at the waiting water. He forced her into a kneeling position in front of the bathtub, and then shoved her head under the surface.

Her body twitched and shook as she tried to squirm free of his grip, but Rebecca was about as tough as a newborn kitten right now. At sixty seconds, Jordan brought her head up, and she gasped, icy water running down her whole body.

That one breath was all he gave her before submerging her again. Her struggling were no less frantic this time, and no more effective. “This will continue until you agree that you're my slave,” he told her. “Well, until you agree and I believe you.”

When she came out of the water again, she found time to shout “fuck y-” before she went back in. He did it again, and again, and again. Sometimes she swore at him, sometimes she remained silent.

About twenty minutes had passed before Rebecca uttered a word that wasn't profanity: “stop”. Jordan didn't. It took another fifteen for her to resort to a new word: “please”.

“Christine, go fetch Bailey,” Jordan said, pushing her sister's head down yet again.

“B-”

“Now,” he ordered flatly, without looking at her. He heard her get up and run down the stairs. Rebecca took two more trips underwater before Christine returned, bringing the shaggy German Shepherd with her.

When he brought Rebecca up this time, he didn't immediately submerge her again. She no longer looked quite so tough as before. Her eyes were rimmed red, snot flowed from her nose, and not all of the moisture drenching her face seemed to be bathwater.

She panted, drawing in big gulps of air. “Please stop,” she said, in a small scared voice completely different from her usual confidence. “Please.”

“You're ready to be a good girl?”

“...Y-yes.”

“I don't believe you.” He pushed her back down under. Bailey was already growing excited, his penis emerging from its sheathe. The dog could see Rebecca hunched over, and smell her naked pussy, and he knew what that meant by now. He bounded over, clipped claws scrabbling at her bare back as he humped the air, seeking his target.

“Don'tlethimrapeme!” Rebecca gasped the instant her head came back up. “Don't! You can't!”

“You don't want your dog's big fat dick in your pussy?”

“No! Make him stop!”

Jordan nodded to Christine. “Well? You heard your sister. She doesn't want Bailey to fuck her pussy. Help her out.”

His slave looked nauseated, but she obeyed, taking Bailey's thrusting cock in one hand and guiding it to Rebecca's asshole. Her sister's eyes went wide in shock as she felt his next lunge bury him deep inside her. “Nooo!”

“You notice how easily his dick slid right in?” Jordan asked, taunting her. “Your anal virginity is long gone by now, and I haven't been your only lover these last couple weeks. You became Bailey's nightly human bitch, and he and I both love filling that butt of yours. Bet he loves it even more now that you're awake!”

Sobbing, Rebecca tried to say something, but Jordan cut her off by pushing her head back down. He watched her face in the water as she felt Bailey's knot swell push into her asshole. On more than one night, that plus Christine's face in her crotch had been enough to make her cum, but she didn't seem to enjoy the anal stimulation quite as much this time. Her eyes went wide, and her mouth gaped open as she forgot to hold her breath. Her body shuddered as she swallowed bathwater, and the next time she came up she had a coughing fit.

Bailey was fully tied now, and the dog turned around, wagging his tail happily as he enjoyed the tight hole of his favorite bitch. “Make him stop!” pleaded Rebecca. “He's killing me! Chrissy! Make him stop!” Christine flinched back, not responding to her sister's cries. “Please! Chrissy!”

“Th-there's nothing I can do,” she said. “You're... you're his bitch, Becky.”

“Noooooo...” Rebecca moaned. “Noooooo... I'm not Bailey's bitch! I'm not!”

“Oh yes, you are,” Jordan said. “And I don't like it when my slaves lie to me. You don't get air until you admit the truth.”

This time down, he didn't let up at sixty seconds. He continued drowning Rebecca, the clock ticking by. Seventy seconds, seventy five... her struggles slowed even further, her body growing still. Eighty seconds... a stream of yellow splashed against the bathroom tile as she pissed herself. Eight five seconds... ninety... he saw her lips move.

Jordan hauled her out of the water. Rebecca's head hung limp in his grip, breathing shallowly. He slapped her face to snap her out of it. “mabitch...” she mumbled. “mmaileys...”

He slapped her a few more times, partly to wake her up and partly because it felt good. “If you've got something to say, say it!” he said. “Or it's back to the tub.”

“I'm... Bailey's bitch,” she said more clearly. The confession seemed to take something away from her, and she stared at him with a hopeless expression, completely different from her usual confident demeanor.

“And are you my slave?”

“...yes.”

“That's right.” He slammed her face back into the water. “And I want to watch my new slave drown.” Since she'd broken at ninety seconds, he made sure to keep her down for one hundred each time, drowning her over and over while Bailey filled her guts with doggy cum. It was difficult to tell the tears apart from the bathwater, but her red eyes made it clear that she was sobbing.

He'd gone through ten cycles of that before Bailey finally separated from his bitch, panting happily while his seed dribbled out of her gaping anal ring. Jordan took Christine's hand and put it on Rebecca's head, just like he'd been doing. “Keep drowning her for me, slave,” he said. Christine nodded and obediently held her sister's head down while he moved to kneel behind Rebecca.

Jordan's cock had grown as hard as it had ever been watching the blonde's torment, and he eagerly rubbed the head up and down her slit, grinning in anticipation. He'd been inside this pussy many times by now, but never with her awake. It had only been a few steps above masturbation. Now he would finally get to give this stubborn, stupid bitch the fucking she deserved. “I'd like to introduce you to the mot important thing in your life from now on, he said. “Your master's dick.”

He slid into her, pushing into her cunt. It accepted him easily, familiar with him even if its owner was not. The difference between her being asleep and awake was like night and day in there. Even after all the relaxants, those strong athletic muscles of hers milked his cock, greedily demanding his seed. If Christine's cunt was a velvet glove that lovingly massaged his shaft, her sister's was a velvet vise that eagerly clenched him. The sensation was so intense that he nearly came before he'd reached ten strokes. He had to calm down and force himself to focus, determined to make his first real rape of the bitch as torturous as she deserved.

He'd been slightly worried that Rebecca would be too distracted by her drowning to appreciate what he was done, but she quickly allayed his concerns. Her hips bobbed from side to side in a pathetic attempt to get away from his dick, and every time he bottomed out in her, she gave a little shudder that had nothing to do with her aching lungs.

Jordan slapped her ass as he rode her, delighting in his victory. This was the bitch who'd dared to knee him in the balls, who'd spat on his face, who'd nearly choked him to death. That was whose wet, twitching fucktunnel he was pounding, whose tight twat would soon be receiving his sperm. He motioned Christine away and grabbed her sister's hair with both hands to haul her head out of the water, bending her body backwards until he could make eye contact with her.

There was no trace of that bitch on her face anymore. No hint of strength, or confidence. She just looked terrified and miserable, with bathwater, tears, and snot all running down her face. “I'm going to cum in you now, bitch,” he told her. “You'll get to breathe when I'm done. And when you do, the first words out of your mouth are going to be 'I'm sorry I was so rude, Master Jordan. Please enjoy every hole my darling sister and I have from now on.' If you don't, the next time you go under will be until you pass out, and we'll keep doing that all night long.”

Without waiting to see if she'd understood him, he shoved her head back into the water, using the grip as leverage to really jackhammer her cunt. Her body danced and shook at the assault, and he saw her choking in the tub; he must have made her scream, and the dumb bitch had swallowed a mouthful of water. Even more than her pussy's soft warm grip on him, it was the sight of her so helpless and defeated that made him begin to spurt into his newest slave.

He took his time with it, making sure he'd shot every last drop of himself into her before he pulled out and let her breathe. She coughed up bathwater between gasps, looking more like a drowned rat than a human being by now. Jordan was almost ready to remind her what she was supposed to do when she sucked in a ragged breath and said, “I'm, I'm, sorry I was, was so rude, M-master Jordan please en, enjoy every hole my sist- my darling sister and I have f-from now on.”

“I will,” he told her, and plunged her head back into the water. Then he performed a little trick he sometimes used with Christine when he didn't want her to get a break from him. He stilled time and just relaxed for a few minutes, enjoying the sight of both sisters.

He hadn't had much attention to spare on Christine while he'd been enjoying her sister, but he took the time to examine her now while she knelt frozen by the tub. Jordan was very pleased with what he saw. He'd thought there might be anger on her face, some remaining spirit stirred to life by his vicious treatment of her sister, but there was nothing like that to be found, only fear and subservience. He'd done a good job breaking her. He intended to break Rebecca even more thoroughly. With Christine he always held back a little, not wanting to completely destroy the woman he'd once loved. It was important to him that she still retain some semblance of self, that it always be his Christine serving him, not a mindless fuckpet

He had no such concern with Rebecca. He wanted to fuck her mind even harder than her holes. He would leave absolutely nothing left of the bitch she'd once been. And thanks to the power she herself had helped him unlock, his head was already bursting with ideas on how to do that.

His cock head was similarly enthused with her, his dick already swelling back to full hardness. Eager to get back to it, he positioned himself against her anal ring. It had recovered slightly from Bailey, but not much, and wouldn't be capable of any resistance. From Rebecca's perspective, he'd only just finished a few seconds ago. She'd expect at least a couple minutes before he was stiff enough to fuck her again. Jordan grinned as he released time and immediately rammed himself into her ass, driving his entire cock into her on the first thrust.

Rebecca screamed in pain and surprise, swallowing water again as he started pounding her shithole. Just like her cunt, it was far better now that she was awake. He leaned forward to grab hold of her swinging teats, groping the soft orbs as he reamed her out. “God, all that dog cum makes your asshole nice and slick, bitch. I'll have to give Bailey some doggy treats to thank him later. In the meantime, here's your first lesson: keep your head in the water for me until I say you can lift it. Drown yourself for your owner.” He took his hand off her head and watched.

As he'd expected, she immediately tried to lift her head up to breathe, and he stilled time to stop her. He used the opportunity to calm down a little too. Even when overflowing with dog cum, her butt was probably the tightest hole the Summers women had. It would've been easy for him to just give in and finish, and that wouldn't do at all. The bitch needed to learn her place with a good, thorough ass fucking.

He walked over to Christine's room, fluids dripping from his cock the whole way there. He'd have to make her lick those up later. He found what he wanted in the desk drawer that had become their secret toy box, and returned to the bathroom, sliding back into Rebecca's ass and putting his hand on her head before letting time flow again.

Christine's sister gave a surprised jerk as her movement was stopped. A moment later she bucked as Jordan pressed the lighter he'd grabbed into one of her round ass cheeks. “I gave you an order, bitch,” he growled, and pushed her head back down before letting go. Rebecca made a genuine attempt to stay down this time, but after ten seconds her burning lungs overwhelmed her sense and she tried to get air again.

Once again she found Jordan's hand there to stop her at the last moment. Once again she howled as the lighter left another red mark across that perfect ass. “Is your plan to convince me that you're too stupid to keep as a slave?” he asked. “Because it's working. Lift your head against my orders again, bitch, and you'll die in this tub.”

She must believed him, because this time she stayed down, choking herself while Jordan enjoyed her tight asshole. “Up,” he ordered after about thirty seconds, and she promptly raised her head, chest heaving as she alternated between coughing and huge gasps. “Back down,” he told her. When she didn't obey, he pressed the lighter against the underside of one of her tits. “Back. Down!”

She obeyed. The worthless bitch that had once looked down on him stuck her head back into the icy water while he raped her ass. She screwed up a few more times, but the lighter was a good teacher, and soon Rebecca was meekly drowning herself for him while he enjoyed her body. Her utter submission was what sent him over the edge, and he added his own seed to what Bailey had left behind.

Jordan felt drained but happy. The bitch was going to be a good slave when he was done with her. A very, very good slave. He'd had his fun, but it was going to take more than this to break her down permanently. He was going to take his time and enjoy the process.

He pulled out and pointed his dick at Christine. “Suck me clean while I find out how long it takes for your sister to pass out,” he told her, making sure to speak loudly and clearly enough for Rebecca to hear him over her sobs. As Christine's warm tongue found his cock, he shoved her sister back under for the last time.

Sixty seconds. Ninety. One hundred. One hundred ten. “Sweet dreams,” Jordan told her as she thrashed weakly. “When you wake up, it'll be time for the real fun.”

Part Five - Crushed

Chapter Nineteen

Tabasco sauce. Half a package of spoiled grapes that had been hiding in the back of the fridge. Two eggs, shell included. Some black grease scraped from the underside of the family car. A few dessicated dog turds abandoned on the sidewalk. A dead fly from the window sill. A handful of gravel. The accumulated juices at the bottom of the kitchen trash.

Jordan hummed to himself as he blended those and several dozen more ingredients together, until they were reduced to a thick, dark, and lumpy substance that could only loosely be considered liquid. Just holding it made his eyes water and stomach roil from the stench. “I'm gonna be in the basement for a few hours,” he called out to no one in particular. “Lemme know if you need me.”

“Sure thing, honey,” said his mother from the living room.

Jordan all but skipped down the steps into his retreat. It was sparse, with only a few soft rugs covering the bare concrete floor. In one corner was his father's work bench, a wooden table covered with dusty tools. In another was a small television, around which were stacks of video games and videos. Neither of those corners were the ones that interested him today, though. He was focused on the one his new pet was waiting in.

She rose to a standing position as he approached, metal rattling as she moved. The sound came from the chain around her ankle, the other end of which was wrapped around one of the pillars of the foundation.

Rebecca had gained most of her composure back since the bathroom, and she glared daggers at him. “I am going to kill you,” she said softly, her voice flat and determined.

“Is that any way to address your master?” Jordan asked. “And after I was kind enough to make you lunch, too.” He showed her his creation.

She barely glanced at it. “You're not my master, you fucking pig. You're just some goddamn freak of nature. And whatever bullshit powers you might have, they won't save you forever.”

“That's not what you were saying a couple hours ago.”

Rebecca hesitated, but only for a moment. “Only to keep from drowning, dumb ass. I'd have called you a a pink elephant wearing polka dots, if that's what you'd asked. Doesn't fucking mean anything.”

Bringing her down to his basement after she'd passed out had been no trouble at all. He'd pulled her out of the tub, told Christine to clean everything up for him, and pushed the bitch down the stairs to save time. His parents had quite a reaction when they caught him dragging her naked, bruised, and unconscious body down into the basement, but he'd just pushed back time and tried again. It had taken less than ten tries to manage a route that left him completely unnoticed.

Jordan set her lunch down on the work table, and picked up a long metal pipe that had been part of their septic system until a few months ago. Some of the other pipes were still exposed in the celing. “That's okay. I didn't really expect that first lesson to stick. I just wanted to see whether or not you could really be broken. And now that we both know that you can, we can start the real thing.

“Your sister is already my slave, and she does a fantastic job at it, but I could use a pet too. That's what you are now, Bitch.” He slapped the iron pipe against the palm of his hand as he walked closer to her. “Rebecca Summers,” he said, his voice mockingly formal. “Do you agree to be my pet now and forever? To obey my every command without question, complaint, or hesitation?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Go fuck yourself.”

By way of answer, he struck her across the face with the pipe. She crumpled to the floor, blood spurting between her fingers as she clutched at the wound. He swung again, this time at her back, her legs, her stomach.

Each blow brought with it the sickening crunch of destroyed bone and cartilage, and blood splattered him as he continued. Some part of him was disgusted at what he was doing, but the rest of him reveled in it. This was exactly what the cunt deserved for thinking she could mess with him.

He didn't stop swinging until his fingers had gone numb, and his arm ached from the exertion. Rebecca was huddled in the corner, a trembling and bloody mess. She didn't cry out when he kicked her in the side, rolling her onto her stomach, but when he started shoving the thick pipe into her cunt, she found her voice again. She squealed like a stuck pig as he pumped the metal in and out of her, smashing it against her cervix every time.

“...stop...” she whispered finally, her voice hoarse from screaming. “...stop... killing me...”

“This is killing you?” he asked, as if the thought had never occurred to him. “Well, we can't have that, now can we?” And with effort, he pushed time.

It was much harder than stilling it, even after practicing. If stilling was like holding his hand under a faucet to catch the water, pushing was like trying to force the water back up into the faucet. Time fought him, slippery and evasive. But he was persistent, and at last he felt it give way.

He put Rebecca's lunch down on the work table again and faced her. “Death can't save you from me, Bitch.” She was completely unharmed, just as he'd expected. Not a trace of the assault remained.

Jordan wished he could say the same about his own body. His fingers still had no feeling in them, and his shoulder felt like he'd pulled something. Rewinding time undid most things, but not himself. He'd have to remember that.

“Rebecca Summers,” he said again. “Do you agree to be my pet now and forever? To obey my every command without question, complaint, or hesitation?”

“You are one sick piece of shit,” she replied. “Just go ahead and torture me.”

Jordan did so with pleasure. He learned more about the human body and its limits in that basement than any biology class could have taught him. He was inexperienced at causing real pain, but it was easy enough to do when there was no danger of holding back. A handful of times he even misjudged and killed her unintentionally, but that was meaningless. Far more often her deaths were completely intentional.

As he played with her, he figured out some more details on how his new ability worked. There was nothing special about Rebecca that made her remember what had happened before he rewound time. Her memories only remained when he was in physical contact with her. He tried pushing without her several times, and confirmed that she didn't remember anything that he'd done.

Her spirit proved far more resilient than he'd expected. It didn't take long to figure out that his original plan of breaking her down over a weekend had been foolish. He gave her the works, denying her sleep and food and even water. Every time he had to go take a break himself, he'd rewind time when he was done. From Rebecca's perspective, he was energetic and always ready for more, twenty four hours a day. And the things he did to her... Jordan was well aware that if he'd been in her shoes, he'd have been broken in a matter of minutes.

Despite all this, after three days of confinement and unrelenting torture she was still refusing to submit to him. Even choking her again proved less effective than he'd hoped; whenever he spent hours suffocating her, often to death, she was certainly extra miserable, but that didn't translate into becoming more submissive afterward. If anything, it only made her angrier and more determined to defy him.

Jordan did his best to hide how much time he was spending in the basement, pretending to go to school for his parents' benefit and then sneaking back into the house while time was frozen, but he knew what he was up to couldn't stay a secret forever. Discovery was inevitable.

It happened near the end of the fourth day. Rebecca was bent over at the time, her soft floppy tits nailed to the workbench. Three days of hell had more than left her mark on her, even when reversing the lethal injuries. Almost every inch of her body was covered with sweat, blood, or cum, and it was almost impossible to find a patch of skin that wasn't bruised and bleeding. She was missing several teeth thanks to the steel pipe, which was once again wedged in her cunt, and more than half her fingers were broken and pointed at weird angles.

Still she showed no sign of submission as Jordan stood behind her, busy using the soldering iron to write BITCH across her plump ass cheeks. She kept trying to squirm away from him, but the muscle relaxants he still fed her regularly meant he had no trouble holding her still with his other hand. He was just finishing up some flourishes on the H when he heard a scream, and glanced over to see his mom halfway down the stairs, her eyes wide with horror. She'd decided to pay an unannounced visit to the basement to look for a brooch she'd lost. “Oh, hey Mom,” he said casually, and got back to the H. “Have you met Christine's sister before?”

Rebecca turned her head to look at his mom. “You have to help me,” she begged in a raspy voice. That was thanks to the pot of boiling coffee he'd poured down her throat that morning when she'd passed out from exhaustion. “He's had me locked up down here for days, torturing and raping me! Call the police!”

His mother stood frozen for a second, then bolted up the stairs, moving faster than Jordan had ever seen her move. Rebecca began to laugh. It was a hollow, tired sound, but it still contained notes of triumph. “What are you gonna do now, you son of a bitch? Lock her up down here too?”

Jordan made a sound of disgust. “My own mother? Don't be gross, Bitch.” Satisfied with the makeshift brand, he tossed the soldering iron on the floor and began pumping a couple fingers into her asshole. “Think we have time for a farewell ass fuck before the cops get here? Probably, right?” He replaced his fingers with his stiff cock, making his pet howl as every thrust slammed against her burnt cheeks and jostled her nailed tits.

“You, what are you doing?” Rebecca asked, confused. It was the first time her tone with him had held anything but pain or defiance. “You, you have stop. It's over!” Her normally stoic voice took on an edge of desperation. “You have to stop raping me!”

“Aww, come on, Bitch,” Jordan cajoled. “One last load in your ass. You wouldn't begrudge your master that, would you?”

“You are not my master,” Rebecca swore. “You failed. It takes more than a, a pathetic piece of shit like you to break me.” Despite her words, she was panting hard, and made small sounds of pain every time he bottomed out.

Heavy footsteps sounded from upstairs. “Time for the home stretch, pet,” Jordan said, and began jackhammering her bowels, eager to finish before it was too late. “Squeeze that ass for me.” He grabbed her hair in both hands and yanked backwards, making her scream and clench around him as he tugged on her trapped nipples. “That's it, work those muscles,” he said, pulling on her hair in rhythm with his thrusts. “Your mouth says no, but your guts are begging to get painted white.”

It was a close call but he succeeded, his hot jizz already flooding her insides when the basement door opened and boots began stomping down the stairs. “Help!” Rebecca was screaming. “Help!” Jordan let the last few drops of his seed shoot into her even as he saw the first officer from the corner of his eye.

And then he rewound.

“Feel like eating your lunch yet?” he asked her, showing her the full glass.

Rebecca jumped in surprise and looked down at herself. She was, though not pristine, looking far better than she had in days. “What... how...?” she asked, the desperation even plainer. “But... but...”

“I must have fucked quite a few brain cells out of you,” Jordan told her, and set the glass down on the workbench. “Can't you tell? We're back at the beginning, and you've got a fresh healthy body for me to destroy again.”

“No...” she whispered. “No... no...”

Jordan laughed. “Are you really so stupid that you didn't see what was coming? Did you just assume I could only go back a few minutes or something? No, Bitch, you don't get away that easily. You and I are going to stay down for as long as it takes to break you down into a proper subservient animal.” He picked up the metal pipe. “Rebecca Summers,” he said again. “Do you agree to be my pet now and forever? To obey my every command without question, complaint, or hesitation?”

Rebecca's eyes filled up with tears, but she shook her head. “No,” she said, her voice small but fierce. “Never.”

“I'm glad to hear it,” Jordan told her. “I was thinking I can do an even better job branding you than what I just had. Why don't we stick your lover back up your twat, get you in position, and see what we can come up with?”

She tried to fight him off like usual, but once he had her nailed down and stuffed, she didn't bother squirming this time as he began working on the B. She just stayed still, tears trickling down her face as the first day of her confinement started all over again.

********************

Rebecca resisted for a few more weeks, but they both knew it was a lost cause. Every day a little bit more of her fight left her, and a little bit more despair crept in to take its place. She began to hesitate when he asked her if she was willing to be his pet, and it took her longer and longer to say no.

The tipping point came just after the sixth rewind. This time, when the police showed up Jordan actually hid and let them rush her to the hospital to treat her grievious injuries, which that time included numerous third degree burns and a face so smashed up that all the plastic surgery in the world couldn't have made her pretty again.

He showed up in her hospital room as soon as the nurses left her alone, her hands already cuffed to the sides of the bed and a pair of his dirty underwear stuffed in her mouth before he unfroze time. He laid on top of her and pounded her cunt, then used some hypodermic needles he'd swiped to play with her tits for a good half hour before a nurse found him and he rewound.

Rebecca started sobbing when they were back in the basement. After being down there for nearly four weeks straight, finally getting to leave only to be pulled right back had cut her even more deeply than any physical torture had managed. “Just stop,” she whined through her sobs. “Just, just stop it...”

“Rebecca Summers,” Jordan said. He'd lost count weeks ago, but this had to be at least the thousandth time. “Do you agree to be my pet now and forever? To obey my every command without question, complaint, or hesitation?”

Her eyes clouded with fresh tears. “Yes... yes... just stop, please...” She cringed away from him as he approached, everything about her body language screaming her complete submission.

“Good.” He handed her the full glass of her special lunch. In all the many things he'd done to her over the last four weeks, he'd never forcefed it to her. He wanted her first time to be special. “Eat up, Bitch.”

Eager to avoid more pain, Rebecca obeyed. She tried to, anyway, up until the point the stuff registered on her taste buds. She convulsed, gagging, and dropped the glass to shatter on the floor. Most of it hadn't been drunk yet, and what little had joined it only a few seconds later when she threw up violently.

Jordan's response was to push back time and hand her the restored glass. “Keep trying.”

Her second attempt went the same way. And the third, and the fourth, and the fifth... It took a few hours and more than a hundred attempts for her to successfully down her entire garbage smoothie and not hurl it right back up. That wasn't the end. Once she'd managed to suppress that initial gag reflex, it became good practice for fine control of his time pushing. He'd wait for her to be almost finished, and then push back just a few short seconds, effectively refilling her drink while she was still having it. It wasn't until she managed a sustained five minute chug, a feat that took almost the entire day to accomplish, that he relented and let her set the empty glass down.

“Did my pet enjoy her meal?” he asked.

“Y-yes...” she said slowly.

“Good,” he told her. “From now on, that will be your breakfast, lunch, and dinner, three times a day.” He demonstrated by pushing time back and setting the full glass down for later. “Do you understand?”

“Yes...” she said, looking like she was nearly about to be sick to her stomach yet again.

“Two things before we get started. First, you will always address me as master Jordan from now on. Second, a fuckpet is meant to be a happy, smiling slut, not this sullen, whiny piece of trash I'm looking at right now. Are capable of following those simple rules, or do you need another week or two to grind down what's left of your pride?”

“N-no, master Jordan,” she said, and with obvious effort, forced a weak smile onto her face.

“Good. Now let me ask you again: did my pet enjoy your lunch?”

“Yes, it... it was wonderful, master Jordan.”

“And is your slutty lesbian pussy getting hot and slick at the thought of that filthy goop sliding down your throat three times a day for the rest of your life?”

“Y-yes...”

“Yes what?”

A flash of anger, quickly suppressed and replaced with another sickly smile. “Yes, my, my slutty lesbian pussy is getting.. hot and slick at the thought of that filthy goop sliding down my throat three times a day for... for the rest of my life.”

“Excellent!” he said, beaming back at her. “Are we ready for your first lesson in being my pet?”

“Absolutely, master Jordan.”

“You don't sound too thrilled about it,” he warned, his tone mild.

Her pathetic smile stretched wider. “Absolutely, master Jordan!”

Jordan stripped down, then pointed to his erect cock. “Lesson one: this is now your everything. Your entire purpose in life, the only reason you are allowed to remain alive, is to keep my dick happy and satisfied. Do you understand?”

“Yes, master Jordan!”

He shook his head. “No, you don't, Bitch. Let me spell it out for you: if I'm stiff, and not inside you or your sister... you've fucked up.” He picked up the pipe.

“No no no no, please, let me-!”

When he was done, he rewound time. She immediately crawled over to him, mouth seeking out his dick. “Mm shorry” she croaked around him, her tongue hot and desperate. He'd fucked her face a few times before with the help of ring gags, but this was the first true blowjob he'd ever gotten from her. He'd later confirm that it had been her first as well.

Compared to Christine, who had hundreds of hours of experience by now, Rebecca's technique was clumsy and unsatisfying. Jordan gave her about a minute before he pushed her head away. “You call that cocksucking?” he said scornfully, and spat in her face. “God, you're just fucking worthless, aren't you?” To his surprise, his verbal abuse made more tears well up in her eyes. Yes, she was coming along nicely. She was going to be the meekest, most pathetic cocksleeve in the world by the time she saw next sunlight again.

But that didn't mean he had to settle for a shit blowjob in the present. He grabbed her jaw, forcing her mouth open while he went in with the pliers. “If a hopeless idiot like you can ever learn to suck dick,” he told her, “then I'll let you do it the real way.” She screamed as he yanked out the first tooth. “In the meanwhile, think of this as training wheels.”

When he'd removed every last one, blood pouring from her now toothless mouth, he released her. “Get back to work, Bitch,” he said. “Unless you think you need even more help.”

Her mouth closed over him, gums pressing tight against his shaft. Her tongue work was no more skilled than before, but there was much more raw enthusiasm. She looked up at him as she worked, watching for any sign of discontent. He smiled back at her and stroked her hair. “There's a good pet,” he told her. “See? When your holes are busy wringing out your owner's seed, he doesn't have to hurt you. Isn't this much nicer than what we've been doing these past weeks?” She nodded. “Do you wish you could spend all day doing stuff like this instead of being tortured to death?” She nodded again. “Good pet. Now try and convince me that letting you suck me off will be more fun than making you bleed.”

She wasn't very successful, but she tried her best.

Jordan didn't bother telling her to swallow his cum when he finished, and he didn't have to. She obediently swallowed his load as it spurted into her mouth, not letting a single drop escape the tight seal of her lips around him. When he was done, she maintained eye contact with him, her tongue still pressed against his cock.

“That was the first half of lesson one,” he told her. “When my dick is hard, your top priority is getting it soft again. Here's the other half: when I'm soft, your top priority is getting me hard again. Being a fucktoy is a busy job. Do you understand?” She nodded, and her tongue slid against him, trying to encourage him to rape her again. “Good. You're on your way to becoming a very good pet, Bitch. But there's still one problem.”

She whined as he shoved her to the floor and straddled her stomach, clamping the pliers around her right nipple. “Until you get much, much better at sucking cock, it's not your mouth that's going to get me ready for another round. It's going to be listening to you scream.” He twisted the pliers hard.

Jordan had to rewind more than once when he went a little too far, but after half an hour her huge tits looked lovelier than ever, bruised and bloody. He'd wrapped zip ties around thir bases to make them even larger, cutting off the circulation and turning them a dark ugly purple. They glistened with sweat, the skin stretched tight, and just a tap of his finger against them was enough to make her wail.

“See what you were able to accomplish?” he asked her, and made her wail again by slapping her tits with his cock. “You got me hard again. That and making my cum shoot off are the two greatest compliments you'll ever receive from now on. What's your job now, Bitch?”

Rebecca had never titfucked anyone before either. Her hot, sweaty melons felt amazing as she scrubbed them against his shaft, the action even more painful for her than it was pleasant for him Her tits were so swollen that they pressed against each other, leaving his cock completely hidden between them. It was perfect. If he closed his eyes, he couldn't even tell it wasn't one of her holes clenching him. No, that wasn't right. Her fat, juicy tits felt even better than her fuckholes.

“Do you know one of the bad things about our current setup?” he asked. His fingers were on her nipples, enjoying the way she shuddered and moaned with every hard pinch. “It's that I can't pierce these fat slutty tits of yours and make it stick. But do you know one of the good things?”

He stilled time just long enough to get what he needed, eager to bury his cock back in that warm valley of tit flesh “It's that I get to pierce them over and over again,” he told her, and started working the needle into her left nipple. Rebecca let out a beautiful scream as dug out a bloody hole, and then did the same to the other before sticking rings into both.

He hooked his fingers into both rings and tugged them, making his blonde bitch howl. “If you were a better fucktoy, I wouldn't have to hurt you,” he told her. “I could just relax and enjoy myself. But you're a sloppy, lazy cunt. You're not leaving me any choice.”

Jordan knew that she didn't believe what he was saying. He wasn't certain that she'd even heard him. But that didn't matter. What mattered was putting that seed in her head. He had all the time in the world to nurture it.

If he'd possessed the stamina for it, he could have happily let her titfuck him all day long. But her warm swollen tits quickly proved too much for him, and he shot his load all over Rebecca's face. “I know you still hate me,” Jordan said as he softened, enjoying the sight of her once proud features now glistening with his seed. “And I'm not going to deny I deserve it, but there's someone you should be hating far more.”

“Oh?” she responded, voice caustic, then caught herself. “I mean, who should I be hating, master Jordan?” she asked in a much milder voice.

“That selfish sister of yours, that's who.”

“Christine?” This time she didn't bother moderating her tone. “She's done nothing wrong!”

“Nothing wrong?” Jordan laughed. “She's the entire reason you're down here!”

“That was because of you, not her.” Rebecca glared up at him with a look that might have been intimidating if her face wasn't smeared with cum.

“No, no, no,” Jordan said. “You've got it all wrong, Bitch. I already had a sweet thing going on with Christine. You really think you were in the way of that? By the time you'd been back in town for a week, you were just a dogfucker.” Her slimy cheeks became tinged with pink. “I could've kept you in the dark like that forever. It was Christine that wanted to bring you in to this.”

“You're a liar,” she said, her voice quiet and cold.

“Am I? Poor little Christine, lost and alone. Nobody to talk to her pain about. But now here's big sis. Someone who knows everything that's going on, who can sympathize. She just wanted an ally, and she didn't care if that meant ruining your life.”

Rebecca looked away from him. “I don't believe you.”

“Believe whatever you like, Bitch. But you remember our fun time in the bathroom that very first morning?” She didn't speak, but her shudder was answer enough. “How did you think I knew about your phobia? Christine told me all of it, gave me the ammunition I needed to take you down. Go ahead and hate me for what I do to you, Bitch, but I'm not the reason you're in this basement. She is.”

Rebecca said nothing, but he could see the wheels in her head turning as another seed was planted. That one he would carefully tend to. Jordan had seen how strongly she cared about her sister, and fucking with that sounded even more fun that fucking her body.

But in the meanwhile, there was plenty of other training to do. He stood up, then leaned down to hook his fingers into her rings again. Rebecca yelped and scrabbled to her feet as he used them to yank her up. Once she was standing, he took another zip tie and secured her wrists behind her, then took his time shoving a large dildo down her throat, far enough that there was no chance of her getting it out.

“You've got such versatile tits,” he told her. “They get me hard, they get me soft... I just can't stop myself from playing with them. Stand straight and spread your legs, Bitch.” Se slowly obeyed, the posture prominently displaying her still bruised and ziptied tits. “Perfect. In our conversation just now, you failed to address me properly several times, and spoke with a disrespectful tone. This is your punishment.” He took a rope and ran it through her rings, then looped the ends over one of the sturdiest looking exposed pipes in the ceiling. He tugged on the ends and Rebecca grunted through her dildo gag as she was forced to stand on tiptoes to avoid putting all of her weight on her nipples.

This uncomfortable posture meant she couldn't do anything but whimper when he put on a pair of work gloves and picked up the roll of barbed wire. He wrapped it tightly around her upper body, making sure that many of the barbs were breaking the skin, especially the ones around her chest. Then he picked up the tire iron. Rebecca made wonderful noises as he started to slap her fat tits around with it, each strike producing a fresh bruise and making the barbs dig bloody furrows in her quivering flesh.

By the time both of his arms were too tired to keep swinging, her breasts looked like they'd been run over. Jordan needed a break, which usually meant relaxing and then rewinding back, but this time he wanted to let her stew for a little while. Give her lessons time to percolate. So he took hold of her legs and bent them back until her heels touched her hips, then stilled time briefly to bind them in place like that.

Rebecca groaned as time restarted and she found herself now unable to reach the ground, her tortured nipples forced to support her entire weight. They began to slowly stretch, unable to endure what was being asked of them. “I'm going to get a bite to eat, Bitch,” he told her, after admiring the sight for a minute. “Give you a little alone time.”

She started making terrified, urgent sounds, trying to communicate her distress without moving a single muscle and hurting her nipples further. “I know,” Jordan said with a smile, “and you're absolutely correct: if you hang there long enough, those rings are going to slowwwwwwly get ripped right out of those plump cow tits. That's the entire point. Reflect on this while you wait: once you're a better pet, I won't have to keep doing things like this.”

He started up the stairs. “I'll come back down when I hear you hit the ground.”

Chapter Twenty

Day 65 of Rebecca's training [1541 consecutive hours since waking up]

Rebecca clutched Christine’s ass with both hands as she eagerly licked at her sister's twat, her sweat slick breasts making wet noises as they rubbed against Christine's stomach. Beneath her, her sister’s head was likewise between Rebecca’s legs, tongue buried in her wet slit and tits pressed against Rebecca's flat belly. Between the two women, small chains ran from Rebecca's nipple rings to Christine's nipple clamps, which meant moving too much would tug on both women's chests and elicit yelps of main only slightly muffled by pussy. Despite this, the two sisters writhed madly, making their chains snap taut again and again as they pleasured each other, their faces already plastered in pussy juice. Jordan watched from one corner, smiling as his slaves worked to entertain him.

It had been two months since he’d brought Rebecca down here. From her perspective, at least. For him it was probably closer to four after all the rewinding, and to the rest of the world it was only day five. Through a bit of experimentation, he’d found some ways to extend the time before his basement pet was discovered, like placing his mom’s lost brooch on the kitchen table for her to find. Six days seemed to be the limit. After that his father would come downstairs looking for some of his tools, or his mother would decide to do a bit of cleaning, or one of them would decide to pay a surprise visit to their now rarely seen son. There was always something eventually. If Jordan had wanted, he could have found ways around all of these, but six days was plenty of time for his purposes.

For example, it was more than enough time for his slave to die of thirst. He’d proved that conclusively a few cycles ago, letting her slowly waste away. She’d begged for water the first few days, and cum on the last few. She'd even shown eagerness for her garbage smoothies, which she still couldn't keep down on the first few tries. He’d taken her up on that cum offer more than once, enjoying the way her gums suckled on him until he shot his load down her dry throat. But no matter how good a job she did, and she was gradually becoming almost competent enough to deserve teeth again, he just rewound time right after, the look of despair on her face each time bringing him more pleasure than her holes could ever hope to manage.

Since that cycle all liquid, cum included, was now something to be earned. When she behaved well, he was gracious enough to allow her enough to stay alive. Barely. By the time they reached this point in the week, she’d be so worn out from thirst and starvation (the thrice daily garbage smoothie was still the closest thing to food she'd eaten in two months) that he barely needed the muscle relaxants to overpower her. Not that displays of physical force were even necessary anymore. Rebecca’s descent from proud woman to groveling fuckpet was coming along nicely.

Christine moaned as Rebecca brought her to another orgasm. Her fifth, six? Jordan had already lost count. His pet’s tongue was more than skilled when it came to cunt, at least. The reason for her enthusiasm, aside from fear of angering her owner, was in the bowl on the workbench that rattled softly at the women’s movements on the floor. Once the thought of drinking piss had disgusted her. He could still fondly remember the humiliated look on her face the first time he’d used her mouth as his toilet. Now she feverishly lapped at her sister’s cunt, desperate to do well enough to earn such a generous reward as an entire bowl of warm piss, the combined amount of all three of their bladders.

Physically, Rebecca wasn't in too bad a shape this cycle, outside of the deyhdration and sleep deprivation. He hadn't had occasion to break her fingers even once, and her cocksucking had been good enough to get him hard more than half the time, which meant fewer times he was “forced” to hurt her. In many ways, his slave was in nearly the best state she'd been since day one.

Only on the outside, though. One look into her hollow, sunken eyes was enough to see that inside was a different story. No more stoicness from Rebecca, no more tough words or piercing looks. She screamed and hollered and whimpered far more often these days, and would sometimes break into sobs for no apparent reason at all. Her mind had held out for a long time, but it was slowly and steadily breaking down under weeks and weeks of unrelenting abuse, two months of 24/7 training without the slightest break.

The soft sounds of Christine’s pleasure had gotten Jordan stiff again, so he knelt behind Rebecca and rubbed his shaft between her butt cheeks. “Please fuck me, master Jordan,” the woman mumbled in response, and then yelped as Christine smacked her bare ass hard enough to make the sound echo through the room.

“Use your hands to spread your cheeks for him, you stupid slut,” his favorite slave ordered. “You think Master wants to waste time and effort touching your filthy ass?” Rebecca obeyed, bringing both hands behind her to show Jordan her well fucked asshole, a single rivulet of cum still dribbling out from its previous use a little while ago. He happily accepted her invitation, sliding his prick right into her waiting shithole.

“Now squeeze him,” Christine ordered, and then smacked her again. “I said squeeze him, Bitch!” Another smack. “Harder!” Jordan couldn’t see Rebecca’s face, but he could hear her sniffles as she tried to obey her little sister’s commands.

Christine, for her part, wore an anxious expression completely at odds with her tone and words. She wasn’t actually angry with her sister, of course. But Jordan had secretly ordered her to act like she was, and she was nothing if not obedient. The request was nothing new. Whenever Christine visited his basement pet, Jordan coached her beforehand on how to act. Sometimes she’d act just like this, scornful and aggressive. Other times she’d pretend to be amused, laughing at her sister’s dismal state and happily discussing her recent torments with Jordan. No matter what, she was not allowed to express any pity or sympathy for Rebecca’s plight, and would reject any pleas for help.

Today he’d brought her in to help teach Rebecca how to he liked to be fucked. Her sister did what she was told almost all the time now, but that didn’t mean she did it well. “She’s still not squeezing hard enough,” he told Christine as he enjoyed the warm clenching heaven of Rebecca’s guts. He was pretty sure that she was squeezing as hard as her exhausted muscles would allow, but that was no excuse for a lacking performance.

Rebecca squealed as Christine’s teeth found her clit, and Jordan quickly discovered that she had indeed been holding back a little. Christine chewed on the little nub for several seconds before releasing it. “Get lazy again and I'll rip it off, you worthless slut” she said angrily. It always pleased him to no end to see how her vocabulary had expanded after all the verbal abuse she herself had endured from him. Rebecca flinched at her sister’s threat, unable to see the tears that had welled up in Christine’s eyes.

“It's time to move that ass,” she ordered. “Back off of him slowly. Do you understand, you stupid cunt? Slowly. Give every inch of your guts the chance to caress his lovely dick. Keep going until he's almost out of you, until there's nothing left but his thick head being kissed by your anal ring... and then loosen yourself and shove him back in! Gobble up every last millimeter of his prick with your hungry ass! Now start squeezing again, slut, and go back to the beginning. Clench and slowly withdraw, relax and stuff him back in. Keep going until he rewards you with his seed.”

Rebecca obeyed her sister's instructions, and Jordan found it a torture of its own to hold still while that wonderful asshole of hers slid back and forth across his length, but sometimes sacrifices had to be made. Her movements were still awkward and her rhythm unsteady, but it took only a couple minutes for that tight, hard working ass to wring his load out of him. Jordan sighed happily as he flooded her insides.

“Please let me clean you,” Christine pleaded as he began to soften inside her sister's asshole. “This dumb bitch won't do the job properly, but you know what a good toilet I am. Let me taste her on you, master.” Her words were harsh, but the kindness hidden behind them was obvious. If begging for the chance to lick her sister's shit off of his cock so that Rebecca wouldn't have to wasn't the very definition of sisterly love, Jordan didn't know what was.

Rebecca, of course, was too exhausted and overworked to hear anything but the immediate meaning of the statements. “I'll try my best to do a good job, master Jordan, I promise,” she said quickly, scared that she was going to be punished for Christine's low opinion of her ability. After all the experience she'd racked up of having to go without teeth, her words were only slightly garbled. “Please do me the, the honor of allowing me to clean my filth off you.”

“Why don't we give Bitch a chance?” Jordan said graciously. His cock popped out of her ass, releasing a fresh stream of cum that ran down Rebecca's crotch and dripped onto Christine's face. His slave endured this humiliation without complaint while he circled around to Rebecca's front. Beneath her, Christine's pussy glistened with juice and saliva. “With your coaching, naturally.”

“I'd be honored to help, master,” Christine said automatically, hiding her disappointment at her failed attempt. “Start by smiling at him. Give him a great big grin with that ugly toothless maw of yours, and thank him for the privilege of touching his glorious dick with your slut mouth.”

“Thank you master Jordan,” Rebecca said obediently, “for the privilege of touching your glorious dick with my slut mouth.” Then she yelped as Christine smacked her ass again.

“Don't just repeat what I told you,” her sister snarled. “Say it in your own words! That's all your fucktoy brain is good for now: thinking of things you can say that will please your master, humiliating acts you could perform for his amusement, ways to apologize for not being a better fuck. Every second you spend not focused on making master's life as pleasant as possible is a second you've wasted!”

The best part of Christine's words was hearing the truth within them. That really was what ran through his slave's head all day, every day now. Even when they were in public, like at school, her dismal grades were signs that she could never focus on anything else for long. Keeping him happy had become her entire life.

But Christine's mental state wasn't what mattered right now. It was Rebecca's, who licked her lips and tried again. “Thank you for, um, for... allowing this disgusting, piss guzzling mouth of mine to... cradle your thick and delicious manhood, master Jordan.”

“Better,” said her sister, her tone begrudging and face filled with guilt over what she was doing. “Now start licking your mess off of him. Do it slowly, let him see how sorry you are for defiling his beautiful cock with your disgusting filth. Slather his head with spit first. When it's clean, give it a kiss to show him how much you love him. Then start on his shaft: long licks starting from the base. Press your tongue hard against him to scrape off every last morsel.”

Rebecca's face was dyed with shame as she followed her sister's every word. She'd tasted her own shit often in the last two months, but every previous time had been involuntary, Jordan throatfucking her until there was nothing left on him but drool. This was the first time her soft tongue had ever willingly lapped the traces of her ass off of him, and the fact that she'd thanked and begged for the opportunity only made it sweeter.

“Now his balls,” Christine ordered. “Worship the home of his creamy, delicious semen with your tongue. Taste the sweat on them? That's how hard he's been working to train you. Slurp it off him like a good slut. When you're done spitshining them, swallow up his shaft so you can suck the last traces of yourself off.” Her instructions apparently finished, she resumed licking her sister's twat.

Rebecca's mouth closed around him, the suction of her warm fuckhole mouth enough to make him stir already. To his utter delight, her instinctive reaction when she felt him growing stiff was relief. Since she'd come down here, his hard cock meant being raped, but it also meant the absence of significant pain as long as she performed properly.

That was another one of his long term goals with the bitch: teaching her to love his cock. A life of misery whenever he wasn't inside of her, and a relatively peaceful one when he was. This aspect of her training would be a success when she wanted him to fuck her. Not because she enjoyed it in the slightest, but because the alternative was the home of all her worst nightmares. He would train her to crave his cock even more than oxygen.

That wasn't the only thing she'd be conditioned to need, but the other could wait. For now he enjoyed the way her lips and tongue encouraged him to rape her again. He laced his hands against the back of her head and shoved himself into her throat a few times, not because he was interested in a throatfuck right now, but just to enjoy that throbbing gullet while he was so close. She'd long ago learned to suppress her gag reflex, and made only quiet gurgles each time he filled her throat.

If Jordan had just wanted a slave, Christine's sister was already more than far enough gone for that. It had been weeks since she'd last disobeyed an order, and her submissive act rarely showed any cracks anymore. But that wasn't nearly enough to satisfy his thirst for revenge. He didn't just want to break her, he wanted to crush her. To completely destroy her psyche and scrub her head clean of the stuck up bitch that used to live in it.

And besides, it was so much fun.

Eventually he popped free of her snug throat and wiped her drool off with her hair. “Get back to your sister's cunt while I pound yours,” he told her, and she meekly nodded and resumed lapping at Christine's slit, while he circled back around to her backside. The bitch wasn't too stupid to learn, and her fingers were already spreading her pussy lips open for him.

Rebecca's soft cunt was as pleasant as always, with a fierce loving grip that wordlessly begged him to put a baby in her. That wasn't an unwelcome idea; maybe after her training was over he'd find out how many brats the lez bitch could pump out. He leisurely thrust in and out of her while daydreaming about making her go through all the worst parts of labor over and over for days. “I'm going to torture Bitch now,” he told Christine. “You ready to play your part?” His slave nodded.

“Wha-?” Rebecca asked, but she was too late. Jordan slipped out of her and grabbed Christine's head before pushing time back just a few seconds, to before he'd talked to Christine.

“Is she doing a good job of licking your pussy?” he asked this time.

“No, master,” Christine answered, immediately understanding what kind of response he wanted from her. “She's being a lazy bitch. I don't think she's even grateful for all the effort I'm putting into teaching her to be your fucktoy.”

“Sounds like she needs some punishment then,” Jordan said. His pet made a wonderful moan of despair at that proclamation, and her mouth made slobbery noises as she redoubled her efforts with Christine's twat.

“So what will it be this time?” Jordan mused as he resisted the growing urge to empty his balls into Rebecca's cunt. “Strappado for the next twenty four hours?” Being hung by her wrists like that had killed her after about an hour last time he'd done it, but that wasn't an issue. “I haven't made you chug battery acid for a while. You always look so adorable for hours afterward, the way you twitch and flop and froth at the mouth as it eats you from the inside out. Or should we just see how many bones I can manage to break with the hammer this time before you die? I think our record is still seventy three. Why don't I let you choose, slave? How would you like to die next?”

“Please, master Jordan,” Rebecca begged. There was no strength or pride left in that voice anymore, just the whimpering tone of a helpless victim. “I'll do better, I'll do better, I promise! I can be a good cunt licker, I swear! Please give me another chance!” Her hips wiggled around him as she spoke, his pet trying just as hard to appeal to his cock as to his ears.

“And just think about how much better you'll do after a little punishment,” Jordan told her easily. “Christine, what do you think? How should I torture your sister to death for not servicing your pussy adequately?”

He knew he'd gone too far when Christine hesitated to answer. “I... I...” she said miserably, and then a sob broke free. It was only a small sound, but Jordan saw and felt Rebecca stiffen as she heard it.

“Ch-Chrissy...?” Rebecca asked slowly. Her sister's response was another choked sob. “Why are you...?” Rebecca turned her head to look back at Jordan, a spark of life and resistance returning to her usually flat eyes. “You... you're the reason she's been so horrible to me all this time, isn't it? She's only acting like this because you're making her!”

Jordan smiled and pulled his cock free from her cunt so he could stand up. “Of course I am, you stupid slut. My slave loves you more than anything. The only way I can even convince her to fuck with you half the time is by threatening to do something even worse to you instead."

“But, but why?” she asked.

“Because I'm going to make you hate her,” Jordan told her. “We're still in the early stages, but I'm going to make you loathe your sister even more than you loathe me. By the time I let you out of this basement, Bitch, you won't need an order from me to start hurting your sister. You'll need an order to stop.”

He put his foot on the back of her head and forced her face further into Christine's twat. “See, you may have some tight holes and nice tits, but your real worth to me is how I can use you to hurt her. She's going to see her idol turn into her worst nightmare, and she won't even know how. Only that it's her fault it happened.”

Christine seemed to take this news especially hard, all her attempts to hold back her tears dissolving into full out bawling. “Pleaaaaaase don't do that, master!” she whined. “I already do everything you want! Why do you have to keep hurting me?! Why?! Why do you have keep making my life worse?! You can fuck me and hurt me, but please don't take my sister away from me! Please don't make her hate me, master!”

“It's okay, Chrissy,” Rebecca said, sounding almost like her old self. Tears of her own streaked her cheeks. “He... he doesn't know what it's like to love someone. I could never hate you, okay? Never! I love you! And his stupid mind games failed, because now I know what he's trying, and I won't...”

“Now that you know?” Jordan asked, laughing. He pressed his foot down harder, until he heard something crack and both women screamed. “How many brain cells have I fucked and choked out of your head by now, Bitch? It's almost funny how you always think you're discovering this for the first time. This isn't even the first time today. Your sister tries, but she can be a pretty shit actress sometimes. Not that it really matters. Even she can pull off a decent performance when you get as many attempts as you need.”

He pulled Rebecca away from her sister so that he could enjoy the look of comprehension on her face, accompanied by an expression of abject despair. Jordan waved at her. “See you soon, Bitch.”

Then he let go of her and pushed back time, just a little, taking neither sister with him.

“Please, master Jordan,” Rebecca begged. “I'll do better, I'll do better, I promise! I can be a good cunt licker, I swear! Please give me another chance!”

“Fuckpets don't get second chances,” Jordan told her. He slipped out of Rebecca's pussy and pulled Christine's face away from her sister's crotch so he could shove himself into her mouth. Christine gurgled at the unexpected throatfuck, but quickly began sucking and slurping. “And since you don't seem to have a preference, why don't I just do all three punishments in a row, one after the other?”

“Nooooo...” Rebecca whined sadly, her body sagging. She'd been through this enough times to know his words were completely sincere, not a scare tactic. “Please, master Jordan, anything but that! Your Bitch will do anything you ask of her, anything at all! Please let her worship you!”

His cock was already overstimulated by Rebecca's pussy, and it only took a few moments for Christine's experienced mouth and throat to wring his load out of him. He sighed in pleasure as she obediently swallowed it all and began softly licking him to try and convince him to spend another round inside her instead of Rebecca. “Wellll,” he said slowly. “Why don't we leave it up to your sister. What do you think, slave? Punish the stupid bitch three times in a row, or go easy on her just this once?”

“I think, um, you should do all three?” said Christine uncertainly. Jordan raised his elbow and brought it down hard on her nose, smashing it flat with a sickening crunch and making the girl howl.

“Not convincing enough,”he told her as blood streamed down her face. “Less hesitation, more enthusiasm. If you force me rewind a second time for this, I'll spend some a few hours making both of you really hurt first, understand?” When she nodded, eyes still wide with pain and terror, he pushed time again, bringing her back with him.

“Well,” Jordan said, “why don't we just ask your sister? What's the verdict, slave? Does not licking your cunt quite right merit a triple punishment, or can you find it in your heart to forgive her for this one little mistake?”

“Give her what she deserves!” Christine said fiercely, with only a hint of a tremor to her voice. Rebecca began openly sobbing.

“I'm trying to be good,” she whined. “I want to be a good fucktoy, I do...” Her pitiful words were music to Jordan's ears, and he completely believed her. Not that it made him any less likely to hurt her.

“There is one thing I've been wanting to try,” he told her. “Something we've never done before that I've always been curious about. It won't even take very long.”

“Yes,” she said quickly. “Yes, please master Jordan, I'd be happy to!”

He had a feeling she'd regret giving him permission in a moment, not that it would have stopped him. “On your knees,” he ordered. She hurriedly obeyed. “You get behind her,” he told Christine. “And hold her left eye open.”

With Christine's fingers on her eyelids, Rebecca was helpless to stop him from rubbing his cockhead against her left eye, smearing the eyeball with precum. “I never knew eyeballs were so soft,” Jordan marveled out loud, making little circles against it. “It feels great.”

“Th-th-th-thank you,master Jordan,” Rebecca managed, already shaking with terror.

“Now start pushing.”

“P-p-push?” she asked, her voice cracking.

He reared back and lightly bumped her eyeball with his cock, making her flinch. “Push,” he confirmed. “Until it's all the way through.” When she hesitated, he said “Or it's the strappado, then the battery acid, and then the hammer. And then back. I can spend the next week, no, the next month, doing those to you again and again and again, and still make you do this for me afterward... or you can just suck it up and eye fuck me.”

Rebecca let out what might have been the saddest whimper he'd ever heard from her, and then he felt the beginnings of pressure on his cock. Light at first, then steadily increasing, until it was actually painful. The bitch was panting like a racehorse and making small but intense sounds of pain, while her other eye was wide open with shock, as though she herself couldn't believe what she was doing.

The pain grew until it was almost too much for him. Rebecca was keening loudly by now, and behind her Christine was sobbing, all pretense of remaining in character forgotten. And just as his cock felt so uncomfortable that he was about to call it off, there was a sickening pop, and he was inside her eye socket.

Rebecca moaned piteously, and her one remaining eye rolled to look up at him, tears streaming from it. “Good pet,” he told her with a smile. “Let your owner handle the rest.”

And Jordan began skullfucking her.

He moved slowly at first, more gently than he'd ever fucked her elsewhere, unsure what it was actually going to be like to do this. He quickly discovered that he had nothing to worry about. The only thing better than the expression of absolute anguish on Rebecca's face the first time his cock sunk into the soft folds of her brain was how it changed with every new penetration into her skull, each thrust harder and faster than the last. Her features gradually went slack, spit and cum dribbling from her open mouth. Her body convulsed madly during the first few thrusts, and the bitch pissed herself almost immediately, but soon her body went completely limp, her head held up for him by Christine, and it was only the hopeless look in her eye that told him she was still conscious. It was so perfect that he found himself laughing. It had taken him two months, but he'd finally found a way to literally fuck the bitch out of her.

His enjoyment was more than just psychological; her skull made for a genuinely good fleshlight. Not as good as her natural holes, certainly, but her gray matter was like warm jello around him. It was a weird sensation, but not at all unpleasant. He could grow to like this. He could grow to like this a lot.

Another minute of hard pounding and the light in her eye went out completely. She wasn't dead, he was pretty sure, but he'd done too much damage: there was no one home anymore. It wasn't nearly as much fun if she couldn't appreciate it, so he rewound them just a little, giving himself time for one more thrust before she was gone. Then he rewound for another thrust. And rewound for another. And rewound for another. Jordan made sure to bring Rebecca back with him every time, holding her there at the very brink of oblivion as he put her brains to better use than she ever had.

When he couldn't go on any longer, he rewound them further, back to just before that very first slow, gentle thrust. This time he slammed into her, burying the full length of his twitching cock into that warm, squishy pillow inside her skull. He stayed like that, her nose buried in his ball sack, as he began spraying her gray matter with his cum. “Now apologize to your sister,” he told her as his pulsing dick continued to pulse and spit. “Or we'll keep doing this all day.”

“Mmmm sawrrry,” Rebecca slurred, her body shuddering violently. “Sawrry fuhrr, fuhrr nahhh beeeyin uh bettuh cunnnh lickuh!”

“Do you accept Bitch's apology, Christine?” Jordan said, feeling the last few drops spurt into his pet's brain.

“Yes!” Christine said quickly. She looked like she was about to break down sobbing again, but a glare from him made her remember her place, and she forced herself to calm down. “That's... that's good enough.”

“Perfect. I'm so glad we could work out this out.” Jordan rewound them all back until he was rubbing his now soft cock against Rebecca's restored eye. “It's a shame we can't leave it all in there, isn't it Bitch?” he asked her. “Wouldn't you love to go around life with your brain soaked in cum?”

“Y-yes, master Jordan,” she said, still shaking from the experience. “I, it, that would be wonderful, master Jordan.”

“We'll just have to keep the experience metaphorical,” he said, stroking her sweaty hair. “Most of the time, anyway. Now...” He stilled time for a few minutes, long enough that when he released it, his dick was as thick and hard as ever as he rubbed it against her other eye. Tears immediately began to leak from both as Rebecca realized his intention. “Let's see if it feels like any different from this side. You know the drill, girls. Slave, hold her eyelids for her. Bitch... push.”

********************

Day 87 of Rebecca's training [2067 consecutive hours since waking up]

Jordan couldn’t hold back a moan of pleasure as his pet’s tongue began lightly teasing the underside of his cock, right where the shaft met the head. Three months of captivity had been enough to transform Rebecca into a world class cocksucker, one with intimate knowledge of exactly what he liked. It was getting difficult to remember that there had been a time when she wasn't amazing at this, wasn't this submissive creature kneeling in front of him whose only desire in life seemed to be to make her owner happy.

As she pulled back slightly to playfully flick his head, a warm smile on her face, her hands continued smoothly caressing him with her pillowy tits. Her middle fingers were hooked into her nipple rings as she swept her breasts up and down, the pressure sometimes becoming looser or tighter, doing her best to make his shaft feel exactly as though he was sliding in and out of one of her holes. Occasionally she drooled on herself to add a little more lube to her chest and prevent the friction from ever becoming even remotely unpleasant.

Rebecca carefully looked up at him with her one eye as she worked, hyper attentive for any sign that her performance was less than ideal. Like usual, her other eye had been removed shortly after the cycle began. He’d given her the choice weeks ago: either she got to ram his cock through her eyeball each and every time he was in the mood to skullfuck her, which was often, or the eye could remain missing after the first time each cycle.

Her anxiety about her performance was unnecessary: she was perfect. Had been for a while now. They were on day three of this current cycle, and so far she hadn’t given him a single excuse to hurt her. She’d spent fifty two hours in a row now playing the part of an eager slut hopelessly in love with his cock, and hadn’t let the facade slip once. The last time he’d skullfucked her, she’d kissed his cock afterwards and thanked him for “making love” to her brain, and her acting was so good by now that her gratitude sounded almost sincere.

It was getting annoying.

The sex was fantastic, but enslaving Rebecca had never been about the sex. He could get plenty of that from Christine, and even if her technique had been outpaced by now, she would always be his favorite fucktoy. Sex had just been another way to break down and humiliate her lesbian sister, an enjoyable way of making her suffer. So now that it was no longer as effective... he needed to get creative.

“Are you done yet?” Jordan asked, glancing over at Christine. She was hunched over the workbench, writing on a sheet of paper.

“Almost, master,” she replied, not pausing. “I just want to make sure these are perfect.” Rebecca’s technique didn’t falter, but he felt her growing more tense, and her smile looked slightly less convincing than usual. She was terrified of what was going to happen next, and rightly so.

To help keep Rebecca miserable, he’d asked Christine to come up with a list of possible ways to enhance their fuckpet, either through new rules or by making permanent changes to her body. He’d made it clear that these would be coming entirely from her head and not his, though he doubted that made Rebecca feel any better. Christine had participated in these sessions long enough now to convince her sister that she could be just as awful as their owner.

The cunnilingus sessions had gone a long way towards that. Rebecca would be placed in some kind of torturous state, like being bound to the grill brought down from the backyard, her tits slowly cooking, and left there until she had made her sister cum enough, a number that was left entirely up to Christine. Or so the bitch believed, anyway. Unbeknownst to her, Jordan always gave Christine the number beforehand. Sometimes he’d let her go with a low number like three or four, just to give Rebecca hope that each orgasm might be the last, but far more often the session would just keep going and going, well into the double digits.

Christine’s job during those sessions was to convince her sister that she was loving what was going on. She almost always had trouble with this in the beginning of a cycle, but showing her the penalty for being unconvincing was usually more than enough motivation for her to put on a good performance.

That punishment was always to torture Rebecca to death herself. Jordan would give her a few items, like a knife, a blowtorch, and a screwdriver, and provide no guidance but “take your time and have fun”. And after a sobbing Christine’s fumbling, inexperienced efforts managed to get the job done, he’d rewind her back and have her start over. The punishment wouldn’t end until she’d convinced Rebecca that she was enjoying hurting her. It would take her many hours, even days on one occasion, but once she’d succeeded, she would be in no hurry to make another mistake.

And so, for her sister’s sake, Christine would laugh at Rebecca’s plight as the suffering woman licked her to orgasm after orgasm. She’d make her think that she didn’t just not care about how much pain she was in, she was actively getting off on it. For hours, Rebecca would scream and thrash and lick, begging her sister for mercy after each orgasm only to be told to shut up and keep working.

Back in the present, Rebecca made a delighted sound as Jordan began to cum. She kept her mouth wide open as she expertly caught every spurt, then brought her head down to suckle him for more after. Once she was satisfied she'd gotten every drop he had to offer, her lips parted again to show him his cum pooling there. When he nodded his approval, she gulped down his load with a smile. “Thank you for such a great big delicious meal, master Jordan. This slut knows no greater honor than being allowed to use her mouth as your cumdump.” She began softly licking his limp dick, trying to encourage him to use her again.

He was well on his way there by the time Christine put her pencil down a minute later. “Finished, master!”

Jordan pushed Rebecca away with only a slight reluctance. She was a fantastic cocksucker. “Are you ready to become an even better pet?” he asked, and she nodded eagerly.

“I can't wait to hear more ways that this stupid bitch could suffer to make her owner happy, master Jordan,” she said. “I hope you'll let me thank my sister by tongue bathing her cunt.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea.” He held his hand to accept the piece of paper from Christine and scanned it. It wasn't bad, all things considered. Nowhere near what he would've come up with, but not bad. “You're certain about this?” he asked her, and she nodded. “All of it?”

“Yes, master,” Christine answered. “I can't wait to see how much Bitch hates them.”

“You'll have to settle for listening while you suck my dick, slave.”

“Yes master, thank you master.” Christine crawled over, her hot mouth closing over him to begin adding her spit to her sister's.

While she worked, Jordan looked at Rebecca, still kneeling meekly a short distance away. “Here's how this is going to work, slave,” he told her. “Christine has detailed five possible things we can do and why you deserve each of them. I'm going to read what she's written, and then you're going to pick which one we enact.” He looked down at the list again.

1. Your worthless, ungrateful hide doesn't deserve master's glorious cum. Every time he's generous enough to gift your body with his seed, you should thank him afterward by licking his feet.

2. That fucktoy mouth of yours exists only to please master. To help it do its job, you should pierce your own tongue with studs.

3. You should be ashamed of those fat, cum covered tits that are always bouncing around. To punish you for having such a slutty body, master will beat them with a belt before and after each session.

4. You suck master's cock with the same mouth that guzzles his piss. Don't you realize how disgusting that is? Unlike us filthy fucktoys, he has no desire to get piss on himself. To make sure that never happens, you will gargle soap after every time you get the privilege of being his toilet.

5. After your training is done and you're allowed to leave, master will take you out on walks like any other dog. You'll dress in something properly humiliating without quite qualifying for public indecency, and crawl for him in public. If anyone asks what you're doing, you'll tell them the truth: that you're a cock obsessed slut who lives as a dog for your owner.

“So,” he asked after finishing, “which one should we do?”

“Number five, master Jordan,” Rebecca said without hesitation. Jordan wasn't surprised. Given what her life was like down here, she couldn't care all that much about what it would be like after. It was, from her perspective, the lightest choice to make.

“Alright, that's enough sucking,” he told Christine. “Go kneel by your sister.” His slave gave his cock a little kiss farewell and then crawled away, her lovely ass bobbing. Jordan smiled at both of them. “This is going to be a fun day.”

Then he pushed time back.

“Here's how this is going to work, slave,” he told Rebecca again. “Christine has detailed five possible things we can do and why you deserve each of them. I'm going to read what she's written, and then you're going to pick which one we enact.”

1. Your worthless, ungrateful hide doesn't deserve master's glorious cum. Every time he's generous enough to gift your body with his seed, you should thank him afterward by licking his feet.

2. That fucktoy mouth of yours exists only to please master. To help it do its job, you should pierce your own tongue with studs.

3. You should be ashamed of those fat, cum covered tits that are always bouncing around. To punish you for having such a slutty body, master will beat them with a belt before and after each session.

4. You suck master's cock with the same mouth that guzzles his piss. Don't you realize how disgusting that is? Unlike us filthy fucktoys, he has no desire to get piss on himself. To make sure that never happens, you will gargle soap after every time you get the privilege of being his toilet.

5. After your training is done and you're allowed to leave, master will take you out on walks like any other dog. You'll dress in something properly humiliating without quite qualifying for public indecency, and crawl for him in public. To help people understand what's going on, we're going to give you homemade tattoos starting now that will tell everyone who ever sees you that you're master's cock loving dog slut.

Jordan felt Christine stiffen as she realized he wasn't reading exactly what she'd written, but with his cock firmly buried in her throat, she couldn't say anything even if she wanted to, and Rebecca couldn't see her sister's expression to get any clues. “So which one should we do?” he asked.

“Number one, master Jordan,” Rebecca answered this time. Apparently the prospect of licking his feet multiple times a day was preferable to tattoos.

He pushed time back again.

1. Your worthless, ungrateful hide doesn't deserve master's glorious cum. Every time he's generous enough to gift your body with his seed, you should thank him afterward by licking his feet and then beg him to beat you to remind you of how unworthy you are of such a wonderful master.

2. That fucktoy mouth of yours exists only to please master. To help it do its job, you should pierce your own tongue with studs.

3. You should be ashamed of those fat, cum covered tits that are always bouncing around. To punish you for having such a slutty body, master will beat them with a belt before and after each session.

4. You suck master's cock with the same mouth that guzzles his piss. Don't you realize how disgusting that is? Unlike us filthy fucktoys, he has no desire to get piss on himself. To make sure that never happens, you will gargle soap after every time you get the privilege of being his toilet.

5. After your training is done and you're allowed to leave, master will take you out on walks like any other dog. You'll dress in something properly humiliating without quite qualifying for public indecency, and crawl for him in public. To help people understand what's going on, we're going to give you homemade tattoos starting now that will tell everyone who ever sees you that you're master's cock loving dog slut.

The entire enjoyable process took hours to complete, long enough for Christine to unknowingly swallow seven different loads (he took a break in the middle for some lunch and a nap). Every time Rebecca picked the least awful option for her, he'd either ratchet it up, or just change it entirely to something far worse. In this manner Jordan slowly developed a list of worse and worse things to do to his pet. Before long she was hesitating on every answer, and by the end he had to beat her each time to force her to make a decision.

It was a beautiful thing to watch. If he'd tried to interrogate her head-on for ways to make her miserable, she would have been evasive, but now she was unknowingly helping him figure out what she really hated. With every decision she made, her future got a little bit worse, and his anticipation for the next cycle grew. Finally he reached a point where all five options were so terrible that Rebecca couldn't bring herself to choose any of them, even after several hours of torture to try and persuade her. The list was complete.

“Here's how this is going to work, slave,” he told Rebecca a final time. “Christine has detailed five things we will do and why you deserve each of them. We're going to enact all of them.” He handed her the sheet of paper.

1. Making master spend all day every day with your ugly hide is getting boring quickly. So at the start of each week, every week for the rest of your life, you're going convince someone to come by for a visit, starting with all your college friends, then my friends, then strangers off the street. That lucky slut will find herself getting fucked silly by master. You'll spend as much time as he likes helping him to have all kinds of fun with his temp fucktoy. And when he's done and she's a bloody, cum soaked mess... Master rewinds allll the way back. The slut wakes up her in own bed, with all the memories, and no proof that it was anything other than a long, horrible, and incredibly realistic nightmare.

2. Master wanted a fucktoy, but when he offered to make you one, you were an arrogant bitch instead. So we're going to make you Bailey's perfect bitch. First, you don't deserve to stand above him, so Master will have me cripple you so you crawl just like your mate. Second, Bailey deserves to get to use all of your fuckholes, so we're going to knock out your front teeth so your lover's knot can fit.

3. It's finally time for you to stop being such a lazy whore. Every time you're a worthless fuckpet who can't get Master hard again, you'll apologize. Not with empty words from your fuckhole of a mouth, but by actions. You're a hungry bitch, right? So you should be happy to apologize by chewing off and eating one of your fingers. For every ten minutes you continue being a useless lump, you chew and eat another. Master won't push time back and fix you until you've managed to do your single fucking job of serving his cock.

4. For being such a disrespectful cunt to master, you are hereby forbidden to ever cum, save for one special exception. Because I'm your sweet, loving sister, I'll allow you to cum from my soft tongue. Cumming for any other reason will be punished by letting master slowly beat you to death. To ensure you appreciate this rule, whenever you are alone you are ordered to play with yourself. If master ever catches you alone and not working over your pussy as hard as you can with your fingers or a nice fat toy, then the first thing he'll do is cut off your arms, because a worthless fuckpet doesn't deserve arms if she's not going to use them. The second thing he'll do is shove them up your cunt and ass, since you're letting them go to waste. They don't come out until you've given master enough blowjobs to convince him that you're ready to behave yourself.

5. You are a filthy, stinking, disgusting animal, and master deserves better from his cumdump. It is disrespectful for a slave of his to let herself sink to such a pathetic state. So from now on, you're going to stop being such a lazy cunt and start cleaning up after yourself. Not a single particle of your filth will be ever allowed to disturb the rest of us anymore. It will all go right back where it belongs: inside of you. Every dribble of cum from your used holes, every bead of sweat that drips from your skin, every streak of blood from your well deserved punishments, every hair follicle and bit of dead skin and fingernail and toenail, and every last ounce of piss and shit. All of it will be lapped up immediately, and you will apologize for the mess you made while you send it back to the trashcan toilet it came from.

Rebecca's normally impeccable facade of happy sluttiness faded away completely as she read the paper, replaced by a look of mounting horror with each new rule. Creating the forgery had been a simple matter of freezing time and getting out a fresh sheet of paper, then using Christine's original version to get the handwriting right. It was far from a perfect imitation, but it wasn't the sort of thing that a worn out bitch who'd been through two thousand straight hours of torture was going to pick up on.

“M-master Jordan,” she said when she was done, looking up at him nervously. “I, I can't, I...” She switched the smile back on, though it no longer looked remotely genuine. “Your bitch tries so hard to be a good pet for your owner. You don't have to do these things, I promise! I'll do anything you want, absolutely anything!”

“Oh, they're not my rules,” Jordan said lightly. “They're Christine's, remember? Take it up with her.” The blonde teenager was still facing away from her sister, trying to focus her attention on deepthroating Jordan's cock as well as possible. He tapped the back of her head. “Come up for air for a second, slave, and take a look at your rules. Make sure you really want to go through with them.”

Christine obeyed, her chin wet with drool as she let his cock slip from her throat and turned to look at the paper Rebecca was holding. Her eyes went wide as she read the paper. “But that's, that not-”

“I know!” Jordan said, beaming at her. “Isn't this going to be a fun prank? When I send us back, you're going to do your best and convince the bitch that those were all your ideas.” He looked over at Rebecca. “You get all that, you dumb slut? We're not going to be done today until you really believe that your sister fucking despises you!”

Rebecca glanced between the two of them, comprehension coming slowly. “You... you've been...”

He pushed time back for him and Christine, then tapped the back of her head. “Come up for air for a second, slave, and take a look at your rules. Make sure you really want to go through with them.”

“Y-yes, m-master,” Christine stammered as his cock emerged from between her lips. “I, I agree with all of that.”

Jordan sighed, feeling more amused than anything. “Don't worry, slut, we'll keep trying until you get it perfect. I'll tell you just what to say, alright? And here, maybe some motivation will help.” He picked up the power drill.

Christine didn't have her sister's superhuman tolerance for pain, and she ended up screaming loudly enough to burst a blood vessel before she died. It was the first time he'd ever actually killed her, and Jordan felt curiously detached at the sight of her corpse, the corpse of the girl he'd once thought he loved more than life. Her life didn't really matter anymore, just like her sister's. Alive, dead, healthy, mutilated... none of it was permanent, so why not have fun with her?

Twenty failed attempts and agonizing deaths later, Christine finally managed it. “Of course I'm sure about them, master,” she said with a smile as she looked at the paper. “I told you, I wanted your bitch to really suffer. It's what she deserves for thinking she was ever anything more than a dogfucking slut with cum for brains.”

“No...” Rebecca whispered, her eyes filling with tears. “Please Chrissy, don't do this to me... I don't know what I did to make you hate me so much, but I'm sorry for it, I'm so, so sorry...”

Christine faltered at that point, and it took another sixteen tries and deaths for her to get past it. “Fuck you,” she hissed, and slapped Rebecca hard across the face. “Stuck up bitch, always thinking you were better than me. I'm happy that master has done this to us, because I finally get to make you pay for being such a fucking worthless cunt of a sister!”

Rebecca started to sob at that, really sob, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. Jordan had never seen her cry so hard, not even after days of brutal torture. Believing that her sister hated her was hurting her worse than anything he'd done to her. Things couldn't be more perfect.

“I think we should get going a little early, Bitch,” he told her with a grin. “Start a fresh cycle with all your fun new rules. But first, you had that great idea about thanking your sister, remember?”

The tears continued to fall as Rebecca nodded and began sucking on her sister's pussy. Jordan was nearly bouncing up and down with giddiness. Her life was going to be complete hell from now on. And if she ever got used to her new standard of living, well, he could always come up with more ideas for her. She was going to be his pathetic, whimpering bitch for the rest of her life, after all.

********************

Day 134 of Rebecca's training [3203 consecutive hours since waking up]

“Please fuck me, master Jordan,” Rebecca begged desperately. “Your fuckpet can't wait for you to give her the hard pounding she deserves” The kneeling woman licked Jordan's limp prick. “Don't you want to shove this down my throat, master Jordan? Choke me to death on your big, thick cock? You know how much you love doing that. Your slut is always so amusing when you revive her just in time to make her gag on your juicy load.”

Jordan just sat back and relaxed, smiling at his pet's plight between his legs. Despite all of her efforts, his cock remained as unresponsive as it had been for the last half hour. Already three fingers on her left hand had been reduced to bloody stumps, and she was running out of time for the fourth.

Rebecca cradled his soft cock in her hands and pressed it against her right eyeball, her eyelids straining to resist all instinct and remain open. “Please get hard, master Jordan,” she whined pitifully. “Pleaaaase... then you can skullfuck me. You can shove your cock right into this dumb bitch's head and cum all over her brains. She'll even fuck herself on your dick. Won't you love watching her head go back and forth, destroying her own fuckpet brain just to help you finish?”

“You're dripping, Bitch,” Jordan said curtly.

Rebecca's face went pale and she immediately bent down to tend to the streaks of blood from her missing fingers. She licked at the floor, lapping up every trace of red she could find. Some of it had already begun to dry, and she had to work her tongue against the hard cement before she could scrape it off. Without her front teeth in the way to stop it, drool quickly began to leak from her mouth.

On the other side of the room, Lorelei was still making all kinds of noises through her gag. Rebecca's ex-girlfriend was bound face up on a stool, with her arms and legs spread out and bound underneath. It wasn't a comfortable or practical position, but Jordan had only needed to break a few of her bones to get her into place. The pliers that he'd promised to rip out her clitoris off with later were still rammed up her cunt, some of his semen dripping down its length. Not a drop of the two loads he'd left in her ass had escaped, though, not with that huge lump crammed in there. The lump that had been her beautiful head of red hair before he'd yanked it all out with his bare hands.

None of that was the source of the bald woman's current distress. That was thanks to Christine, who was busy cutting her with a knife. Jordan had ordered her to write him a love letter across their guest's stomach, at least one hundred words long. She was completely focused on making small, deliberate cuts across the woman's flesh, intent on finishing her essay before she ran out of room.

“Time's almost up, Bitch,” Jordan reminded her, and Rebecca glanced up to give him a look of terror, her tongue gray with cement dust.

“Please please please, master Jordan,” she said, swallowing everything down with a grimace. “Your bitch just wants you to fuck her. She knows that she's stupid and lazy and ugly and deserves to be punished, but please have mercy! All she wants is to make you cum!”

The changes he'd made weeks ago had been an unqualified success. The fucktoy had been more miserable since then than at any other time, even those first few weeks of pure torture. Since then she'd lost her convictions, her dignity, and all thought that she'd been born for any purpose other than being pumped full of Jordan's sperm. He'd hollowed out her soul and filled it back up with shame, fear, and a burning need to please him. The sobbing cunt in front of him was like a work of art, a masterpiece that he'd crafted one brutal torture at a time over three thousand long and pleasant hours.

But he wasn't nearly done with her yet.

“There is one thing you can do,” he told her slowly, and smiled at the sudden feverish hope in her eyes. “One thing that will get me hard. Something that will always get me hard.”

There were lottery winners who'd looked less excited than Rebecca did right now. “Whatever it is, your slut would love to do it!” she assured him. “She'll do anything, absolutely anything!”

Jordan nodded at Christine, still in her own little world with a sharp knife and Lorelei's flat stomach. “You can hurt your sister.”

“H-hurt?” Rebecca asked dumbly. She glanced over at Christine and then shivered. After all his manipulations, she was almost as afraid of Christine as she was of Jordan. “But, but I...”

“It's been ten minutes, Bitch,” he told her flatly. “You can either start chewing that index finger off, or go pin down your sister and fist fuck her. Decide.”

Four months ago it wouldn't have been a question. Even as little as one month ago she would've chosen her own pain over hurting her sister. But Jordan had spent a long time working her over, and the dividends were finally beginning to show. Rebecca gave a slow, uncertain nod, then began crawling to the other side of the room.

Christine didn't notice Rebecca's approach until her sister swept her legs out from under her. She hit the basement floor with a slam, her nose bloody from the impact. She tried to struggle, but Rebecca was stronger and desperate, and soon Christine was screaming as Rebecca's fist forced its way into her tight cunt.

Jordan's bitch looked over to see if he approved, and a genuine grin appeared on her face when she saw his stiff cock. Getting hard was the easy part. It was staying soft that had been difficult. What Rebecca didn't realize was that she'd already successfully talked him into fucking her three different times in the last half hour. He'd just pushed time back to keep her from remembering. He wanted to force her into a corner, make her as desperate as possible to find a way to please him.

It wasn't the first time he'd ever suggested hurting Christine, either. He'd been arranging situations like this every day or two for the last couple weeks. But on all previous occasions, she hadn't been able to go through with it, so he'd rewound all memory of it away. This time, though...

“Hold still!” Rebecca snarled as her sister tried to squirm away from her fist. “You're trying to... trying to get me into trouble again!” For more than a month now, most of her worst torture sessions had been thanks to some tiny mistake or rule slip that Christine had pointed out (after some secret prompting by Jordan, naturally). A few times he'd even persuaded Christine to force an error out of Rebecca. Three times now, for example, she'd fingered her sister to orgasm while Rebecca was bound and Jordan was upstairs, and then proudly tattled when Jordan returned. And once she'd “decided” to leave her sister alone with her hands bound so that she couldn't play with herself. Rebecca had discovered that day that Jordan's threat of what he'd do if he found her like that had not been a bluff.

This Christine, who knew nothing about any of that, was still screaming and trying to get away, completely bewildered by her sister's rage. “You're hurting me, Becky!” she cried out. “Please!”

Rebecca started to laugh, and that's when Jordan knew he'd finally succeeded. “I'm hurting you?” she said incredulously. “I'm hurting you?! You sadistic little cunt! You've been hurting me and hurting me and hurting me, and now I'm supposed to feel sorry for you?! Fuck you!” Christine howled as Rebecca began using her twat as a punching bag, her arm bloody as it pumped in and out of her.

It was mesmerizing to watch, but Jordan's role in this wasn't over. He knelt behind Rebecca and grabbed hold of her hips. She let out an almost orgasmic moan when she felt his cock press against her asshole. He'd taught her that there was nothing worse in the entire world than his soft cock, and nothing greater than his hard cock. He penetrated her, her well trained muscles welcoming him in and immediately going to work on pleasing him. While they did, his fingers found her clit and began playing with it.

It stiffened almost immediately at the contact. He kept her body painfully overstimulated most days; there were few things sweeter than listening to his pet weep as she begged him not to make her cum. Rebecca let out a shuddering breath at the unwanted pleasure, then began slamming her hips back against his, fucking her ass on him hard. It hadn't taken her long to figure out that the best way to stop him from teasing an orgasm out of her was to make him finish first. But he wasn't going to let her get away that easily now. He smacked her ass hard, signalling that he wanted to fuck her himself, and she obediently stopped, though an anxious moan escaped her lips.

“Master Jordan,” she breathed. “I'm-I'm sorry your bitch is such a slut. Please forgive her for loving your fat, wonderful cock so much.” Her fist had stopped moving inside Christine, but her sister had given up trying to get away. She just laid there, crying over her sister's sudden and violent attack.

“Something wrong, Bitch?” Jordan asked innocently as he fucked her ass in slow, lazy strokes. His one hand continued lightly stroking her clit, while he used his other to run his fingertips over her hard nipples, making her whimper with unwanted pleasure. “You don't want a nice, sweet orgasm?”

“Noooooo,” she whined. “No, your bitch doesn't deserve orgasms, master Jordan! She's a filthy slut who, who needs to pay for being awful to you!”

“You are a filthy slut who needs to pay,” he agreed, “but there's no reason you can't cum, not with your sister right there.” Rebecca didn't seem to understand his meaning. The special exception he'd put into the orgasm denial rule, that she was allowed to cum from her sister's tongue, had never come up yet, and he was fairly certain she'd forgotten all about it. It was, however, the most important part of the rules she'd helped him create. “As long as Christine is licking your pussy, my pet can cum as often and as hard as she likes.”

“I, I can cum?” Rebecca asked incredulously, unable to believe such unprecedented generosity. “You won't, won't punish me?”

Jordan laughed “Punish you? Aww, my cute, stupid pet! I love watching you play with your sister. She's the one who really wronged me, remember? You've seen for yourself what a horrible person she is. Now that you know what she's really like, can you blame me for hating her, for wanting her to suffer?”

Rebecca shook her head, panting hard as her orgasm approached. “No, Christine is, she's an awful, evil bitch and I hate her too. I'm glad you, you took her, master Jordan. She deserves to be your, your slave!” Her sister sobbed harder at her words.

“She does, doesn't she?” Jordan said with a grin. He sped up his thrusts, making her squeal. “So what will it be, Bitch? Let your sister lay there and relax while you earn another punishment, or shove her face into your snatch and ride her into bliss?”

Christine yelped as Rebecca yanked her fist out of her pussy, and then grabbed her hair with that same bloody hand. “Fucking bitch!” Rebecca snarled as she forced her sister's head between her legs. “Vile, backstabbing little... ohhh, ohhhhhh!” Rubbing Christine's face against her slit was all it took to send her over the edge, and she came hard while Jordan continuing assfucking her.

“Good girl,” Jordan told her when she'd calmed down. “Does my pet want to cum again?”

“Yes master Jordan!” she gasped, still pressing Christine against her. “Please let me!”

She was able to finish once more before her tight ass squeezed his load out of him. Rebecca shifted to remain sitting on her sister's crying face as she diligently cleaned him with her tongue. When she began sucking on him to get him hard again, however, he pulled away. “No need for that right now, Bitch. I just want to watch you hurt Christine some more. And as long as you keep her like that, you can cum as many times as you want while doing it.”

Rebecca's eyes lit up with joy at the thought. “Thank you master Jordan!” She swiveled around and began slapping and pinching Christine's breasts. “Lick me, you cunt!” she ordered. “That's... that's it...” She was already well on her way towards orgasm number three as she began ripping pubic hairs out of her sister's mound.

Jordan gave her some space to work, grinning like a madman at his success. “Isn't it nice to see sisters getting along?” he asked Lorelei. The bound bald woman just moaned. “I think those two will be busy for a little while, so why don't we have some fun with just us for now?” He tapped the pliers buried in her cunt. “I made you a promise about these, right? I think it's time to make good.” Soon she and Christine were screaming in lovely harmony.

This wasn't the end of Rebecca's training. No, he'd give her another month or two to get used to the idea of hurting her sister, to fully associate Christine's pain with her own pleasure. And then it would finally be time for Christine to be properly introduced to the work of art he'd created for her...

Chapter Twenty One

Christine’s anxiety grew with every passing minute. When were they going to return?

It had been two full hours by now since Jordan had left with Rebecca after the incident in the bathroom, where he’d drowned her repeatedly in the tub. As ordered, Christine had cleaned up the bathroom and then returned to her bedroom to kneel and wait. There were still three days before her parents were due to come back from their “honeymoon”, so at least there was no worry about them showing up and asking questions, but that was little comfort. She had no idea what he’d been planning to do with her sister. He’d promised that he wasn’t going to sell her off or kill her, but what if he’d been lying? It wasn’t as though Christine could do anything about it. All she could do was obey.

The role she’d played in Becky’s submission still made her sick to her stomach. It was one thing to know rationally that her sister’s best option, or her least worst anyway, was to become Jordan’s slave. It was quite another to help make it happen. Guilt gnawed at her, and she prayed that Becky would understand why she’d done it. She didn’t expect her sister to ever forgive her; she didn’t deserve that much.

Christine was used to Jordan’s visits beginning with him just appearing in the middle of her room without warning, so it took her a minute to notice that there were sounds coming from downstairs. She hesitated - he’d specifically told her to wait for him up here - but she could hear voices, and recognized both him and Rebecca. They were finally back. Fearful curiosity got the better of her. She had to see if Rebecca was alright. As she nervously left her room and headed to the stairs, she listened to her sister moaning. What was Jordan doing to her? And why did she sound like she was enjoying herself? She reached the balcony above the front hall and stared wide eyed at the scene in front of her.

Rebecca purred in pleasure around Bailey’s cock, which was all the way down her throat. Christine didn’t understand how that was even possible until she saw the gap in her sister’s front teeth, through which their dog’s knot kept appearing and disappearing. The woman was on all fours, save for one hand that was furiously playing with her clitoris. Bailey reclined in front of her, enjoying the special attention.

Behind her knelt Jordan. His cock was buried in her cunt, but he seemed like he barely noticed. All of his attention was on his phone, and Christine could hear the faint electronic sounds of some game. Rebecca was busy more than making up for his seeming lack of interest. Her hips ground back against him, violently fucking herself on his cock hard enough to make her breasts bounce wildly.

How? How? She’d known Jordan’s goal was to break her sister, but it had only been three hours! How had Rebecca been transformed from the strong, fierce sister she’d loved into... into this fucktoy that was cooing with delight as Bailey began cumming, her eyes rolling up into her head in apparent ecstasy over the dog sperm being pumped into her stomach. Her fingers worked her clit even more frantically, and the staccato slap slap slap of her ass bouncing off his hips filled the house.

“No one told you to leave your room, slave,” Jordan said calmly, his even tone at odds with what her sister was doing to his cock. He glanced up at her, and Christine recoiled as she got a good look at his face for the first time. He looked different somehow, his features a bit sharper. Christine’s heart sank as she realized what she was seeing, and her mind began to whir with the implications: he looked older.

“H-how?” she asked. “How long?” There was no point asking how he’d done it.

Jordan chuckled. “Sometimes I forget how smart you are. Not like this one. You’re about as sharp as a bowling ball, aren’t you, Bitch?”

“Mmm hmm!” Rebecca agreed eagerly, her lips still fastened around Bailey’s knot to ensure she got every drop of his cum.

“How long?” Christine repeated. She felt tears running down her cheeks.

“That depends on who you ask,” Jordan answered. “For the rest of the world, three hours. For me, about a year and change, I believe. And how long has it been for you again, Bitch?”

“Two hundred and eighteen wonderful days since you claimed me, Master Jordan,” Rebecca said around Bailey.

Christine stared at the both of them, frozen in disbelieving horror. She’d known Jordan had some kind of crazy power, but this... seven months? Becky had spent seven months alone with him? Even Christine had only been his slave for about half that time, and it had been more than enough to completely upend her life and turn her into a servile, cock sucking slave. Seven months...

Now that she was looking closely, Jordan almost seemed like a different person. Not so much from the age, but from the way he held himself. There was a confidence in him that she’d never seen before, not even when he was alone with his meek slave. There was no sign of the fidgety, overeager boy that had tormented her all this time. The man raping her sister looked completely relaxed and in control.

Rebecca’s moans increased in pitch and intensity. “Pleaaaaase,” she begged. “Pleeaaaaaase!”

“I’ll cum when I feel like it and not a second before, you horny little slut,” Jordan said with a smile, looking back at his phone again.

“But- I- I- please- trying-!”

“Can you believe the nerve of your sister, calling herself a lesbian?” Jordan asked Christine, who still stood dumbstruck. “All it took was a little care and attention to get her addicted to my cock. Do you see how hard the slut has to work just to stop herself from cumming on it?”

“Love you- Master- Jordan!” Becky managed. “Love your- thick- hard- delicious cock!” Christine finally noticed that her original assessment had been wrong: Rebecca wasn’t playing with her clit, she was torturing it. She kept pinching it between her fingers and digging her nails into it. Despite her efforts though, she seemed to be getting more and more aroused.

Bailey finally pulled out of her, his dick matted with her spit. “Thank you- lover!” She said, and planted a kiss on the head. The dog wagged his tail, enjoying the attention.

Jordan abruptly shifted, leaving Rebecca humping empty air for several seconds before catching herself. “I wasn’t planning on letting you finish so soon,” he told her, “but now that your sister disobeyed me and left her room, it seems like a perfect opportunity. You want to cum?”

“Uh huh!” she said firmly.

He slapped her ass. “Then go have fun, Bitch.”

Christine still didn’t really understand what was going on between them. She definitely didn’t expect her sister to start sprinting up the stairs on all fours. “Becky, what-?” she had time to say, and then Rebecca crashed into her with all her weight.

The surprised teenager saw stars as she fell backwards onto the floor, Rebecca straddling her body. More pain burst in her head as her sister balled up a fist and punched her in the face. Scared and confused, she lifted her hands to protect herself, but Rebecca easily slapped them aside and punched her again. “Put your arms down or I’ll break them,” the woman warned. When Christine didn’t immediately react, she seized the girl’s left wrist and elbow. “Are you fucking deaf?!’ she snapped, and Christine felt a horrible pressure in her forearm.

“You should probably do what she says, slave,” Jordan said mildly, his tone making it clear that he wasn’t particularly concerned about whether she listened or not. “Bitch doesn’t have enough brain cells left to bluff.”

Christine stared up at her sister, searching for a sign. This… this had to be some kind of trick, something he was forcing her to do. This wasn’t Rebecca. This couldn’t be Rebecca. Her sister was warm and loving and always looking out for her, and she couldn’t imagine anything Jordan could do to her in seven years, let alone seven months, that would change that. That would make her look at Christine with such raw hate. “Please,” she whispered to her sister. “Please, this can’t be happening…”

Something in her arm snapped.

Sharp agony ran through the entire limb, down to her fingers and up to her shoulders, and Christine screamed at the sudden and intense pain. When Rebecca let go, even the light impact against the hallway’s soft carpet felt like receiving an electric shock and made her scream again. “Shut up you whiny cunt,” her sister seized, and grabbed hold of her other arm in the same fashion.

“Wasn’t I just calling you smart before?” Jordan remarked dryly. “My memory must have gotten a bit fuzzy while I was with your sister.”

Christine quickly let her captured arm go limp, submitting to her sister. Rebecca glared down at her, the terrible pressure in her arm still building, and for a few seconds she was certain that her sister intended to break the limb anyway, but finally she spat in Christine’s face and let go. The girl kept both hands passively at her sides as her sister socked her in the jaw again. And again. And again.

By the time Rebecca stopped hitting her, Christine’s entire face felt hot and swollen, and she could taste blood trickling from her nose. She wasn’t given a moment of respite though, as her sister crawled forward to plant her pussy right on Christine’s mouth. It was warm and throbbing, and filled with pussy juice and precum that promptly began leaking into the girl’s mouth. “Eat me out, slave,” Rebecca ordered. Christine did as she was told, crying softly.

“Do you like my new pet?” Jordan asked, still downstairs. “She was almost too stupid to train, but look at her now: obedient and eager to please.” Rebecca had both her hands in Christine’s hair, and was using them to press her face even harder against her wet slit. “And eager to be pleased. You two are going to have some very fun nights together from now on.”

Rebecca squealed happily, and Christine gagged as her sister’s orgasm brought pussy juice flooding into her mouth. Rebecca humped her head as she finished, making her shudder in pain as her fresh bruises were ground against the woman’s pelvis. Her reaction only seemed to excite her sister further, and she continued rocking herself against Christine’s face even after her orgasm faded, wordlessly demanding another. The second rape became even worse when Rebecca started slapping her broken arm to make her scream into her pussy. “Something wrong, slave?” she asked. “If you want me to stop hurting, you’d better put that lazy fucking tongue to work! Eat me out, whore!”

Christine did her best to please her sister, lapping at her soaked cunt with every ounce of enthusiasm she could muster, but her efforts didn’t earn her any mercy. Rebecca continued to insult and torment her for several long minutes as Christine desperately tried to make her cum. Ten minutes passed before Rebecca finally slammed her fist right into Christine’s broken arm, letting her sister’s shrieks of pain against her slit push her over the edge. Christine hoped that this would be the end of it, but she didn’t dare stop licking, and Rebecca seemed all too happy to stay right where she was and let Christine keep working.

“Don’t be greedy now,” Jordan called up. His tone was playful, but Rebecca immediately froze. “Do you really think she’s suffered enough to earn you a triple?”

“No, Master Jordan,” the woman whined, sounding genuinely distraught. She crawled off of Christine and down the stairs to him, where she started licking his shoes between pleas. “Your bitch is a selfish cunt who forgot her place. Please punish her! Please help her learn her lesson!”

“Punishment can come later,” he replied, and slipped his phone into his discarded jeans on the floor. “This time is for celebrating. Why don’t we show Christine one of your new toys?”

Rebecca happily wagged her ass back and forth as she continued spitshining his dirty sneakers. “Oh yes! Oh yes! Your bitch will give you such a good show!” She rolled onto her back, all four limbs up in the air and wiggling with excitement. Christine felt reality flicker, and then something appeared in Jordan’s hand.

It was fundamentally the same as any other strap-on, but in the way a lion was fundamentally the same as a house cat. The thing was massive, long and thick, and bore the words “SISTER FUCKER <3” written in pink lipstick down its jet black length. “This is what took up most of the two hours,” Jordan explained as he started buckling it onto her. “We went to the store and let her pick all of them out herself. The writing on this one was entirely her idea too.”

He glanced up at Christine, who was still lying on the floor, shaking in terror at the torture device bring strapped to her sister’s hips. “You don’t have to just lay there, you know. She’s not your owner like I am; she can’t order you around, and you’re allowed to run or hide or do whatever to avoid her. It’s much more fun that way. So if I were you, I’d get moving.” He slapped her sister lightly on the stomach. “All set, Bitch.”

Rebecca rolled over and sprinted up the stairs, still on all fours. Christine quickly scrambled to her feet, running for the bedroom. If she could get there and lock the door, she might...

Rebecca slammed into her from behind, and both women collapsed onto the hall, bringing fresh stabs of pain from Christine’s broken arm. “Oh Chrissy,” her sister breathed, and the girl couldn’t tell whether she was angry or aroused. “Evil, lying Chrissy, who thought she could get away with betraying her sister. Giving me to Master Jordan was the biggest mistake of your life, cunt, because he knew which one of us really deserved to suffer, and it isn’t his dumb doggy slut.”

Christine had time for a single gut wrenching moment of dread when her sister’s strap-on touched her anus. Then there was only pain. The teenager howled loud enough to make Bailey join in as Rebecca rammed the huge rubber dick right up her ass. It was too big to fit, far too big, but her sister didn’t care. She hammered Christine’s asshole with it, beating it into submission, forcing it to give way and let her sink deeper and deeper. Jordan buttfucked her almost every day, but he was nowhere near as big, and he usually allowed her to at least lubricate him with her tongue, if only to make sure her butt didn’t cause him any pain. Rebecca dry fucked Christine’s asshole like she wanted to see the tip burst out of her sister’s stomach, her movements frenzied and violent.

“This is what you get,” she kept repeating, punctuating the last word with another sharp thrust each time. “This is what you get... this is what you get...”

Jordan appeared in front of Christine to show her his own cock, still glistening with her sister’s juices. “It’s been too long since you and I had a proper session together.” Christine’s cries were reduced to gagging as he stuffed himself down her throat. “Mmmm, that’s the fucktoy I remember. Suck my dick, slave.”

Christine did. She knew it wouldn’t get her better treatment. She knew that no matter how well she pleased her master, he had no intention of telling her sister to stop turning her asshole inside out. But there was nothing else she could do, so she licked and slobbered and sucked on him while Rebecca continued pounding her. The experience had never gotten any easier since that first time in the bathroom; he still tasted awful, it was still humiliating, and the slimy residue of her sister’s pussy didn’t make things any better. But she tried to focus on it, on how hot his prick was against her tongue, on the way his pubes came off in her mouth as she serviced him, on how awful it felt every time the head popped into her throat. Anything to take her mind off what Rebecca was doing to her ass.

She could feel the fat head of Rebecca’s dildo as it moved inside her, penetrating more deeply than anything else ever had. The sensation of it scraping against her inner walls was like someone taking sandpaper to her intestines, and her entire body made involuntary spasms of pain with each stroke in and out. Her insides reacted to the foreign invasion by clamping around it, trying to halt its movement, which only made the experience worse as her raw flesh gripped the rough rubber shaft. She could feel her own hot blood leaking from her ass, and she tried not to think about what kind of internal damage it must be doing.

When Jordan finished, it was in her mouth and on her face. She swallowed all that she could, not even considering the possibility of spitting any out. Cum was there to be swallowed. “I’ve come to appreciate the little things,” he told her as he sat back on his haunches to watch her sister pummel her guts. “For example, Bitch over there has lived on cum for so long, she’s learned to love the taste.”

“Mmmm,” Rebecca purred as she panted with the effort of torturing Christine. “What could… taste better… than Master Jordan’s… sweet sticky love… sliding down my throat?”

“See?” Jordan asked. “What’s the fun of making her swallow my load when it comes as a tasty treat? But you…” he rubbed his limp cock against her cheeks, smearing some of his cum around her features, then brought it up to her lips, where she automatically began slurping the goo of him. “You still make a tiny shudder of disgust every time it hits your tongue. It’s beautiful, and the sight sends a little shiver up my spine demanding that I hurry up and feed you more.” He put two fingers under her chin and tilted her head up to look directly at him. “Would you like to help make that happen?” She nodded quickly.

He looked past her, towards Rebecca. “Stop fucking her and unbuckle yourself, Bitch.”Christine sagged in relief as the horrible assault paused, leaving just the nauseating pain of having the dildo wedged inside her. Her insides still ached and burned, and would for days even if neither of them did anything further to her asshole, and fat chance of that, but at least the horrible rape was over for now. She braced herself for the final torture of having it yanked from her guts, but it didn’t come. Instead, Rebecca only removed it from the harness and crawled around her to kneel at Jordan’s feet. Christine’s ass twitched around the invader, attempting with no success to push it out of her. “Stand up, slave.”

Christine groaned as she obeyed, trying to keep her legs spread to minimize the pain. She was careful not to use her broken left arm for anything or put any weight on it, but it still felt like she had shards of glass under her skin. She rose shakily to her feet, bowlegged. “Stand straight,” Jordan clarified, and the teenager winced as she reluctantly brought her legs closer together, making the pain of her impaled asshole flare. “Now fuck yourself on that thing.”

Christine whimpered before she could stop herself. “Please, master,” she said, “w-wouldn’t you rather I-” She doubled over as Jordan slugged her in the stomach, hard enough that the cum she’d swallowed moments ago threatened to come rising back up.

“Don’t you dare tell me what to do,” he said flatly. “I’d forgotten about what an attitude problem you still had. We’ll work on that when we get back, but for now, I want to see you fuck your ass with that monster.”

“Y-y-yes, master,” she said shakily, not wanting to make him any angrier. She reached behind her with her right hand, and felt for the the dildo. The light tap of her fingers against it was enough to make her wince, but she persisted, finding a strap connected to the base. It felt like she was pulling her own intestines out as she slowly tugged the thing, drawing it out of her a little at a time. She tried to be as slow and gentle as possible, but her inflamed insides had already begun to swell up, making her rectal passage tighter than ever, and she found herself having to really make an effort to advance it, fighting against her own aching muscles.

At long last, she had almost the entire gruesome thing extracted from her asshole. Only the bulbous head still sat inside her. She almost begged Jordan to let her stop like this, but that was only going to make him mad. Instead, she gritted her teeth and gripped the base to begin pushing the thing back into her, undoing all of her hard work. Progress was even slower and harder than before. She no longer had gravity on her side, and her rectum was designed to expel things, not take them in. Christine had to wiggle her ass, slowly working the shaft into herself, feeling the awful head travel deeper and deeper into her guts.

She felt like she’d run a marathon by the time she’d pushed it all back inside her, but she knew she had no time to rest. She reversed course to drag it all back out of her. Push in, pull out. Push in, pull out. Her legs trembled as she slowly fucked her own ass with her sister’s dildo, each push and pull hurting worse than the last. Rebecca watched her with a grin on her face, clearly enjoying her misery, and Jordan wore a small but satisfied smile. It felt like she fucked herself like that for hours, though it was probably only a few minutes before Jordan approached her again, his cock at full attention. She remained still as he grabbed her hips and let himself rest against her slit. “Welcome me back home, slave,” he said softly.

“Welcome ho-” She cut off as he slid into her. She was dry, but Rebecca had already added her own spit to him, and he penetrated her easily. “H-home, master,” she finished.

He stayed buried inside her, his hot prick pulsing softly within her folds. Their faces were only inches apart, and he stared at her impassively. There was none of that… excitement she was used to seeing from him. There had been a passion to him before, which had driven him to do such awful things to her, but now he just looked at her like, like… she shivered. Like she was just a thing. A thing he enjoyed, a thing he was happy to abuse, but not a person. “I didn’t tell you to stop fucking yourself,” he reminded her.

“Yes, master,” she said quickly, almost happy for the excuse to think about something else. She resumed pumping Rebecca’s dildo in and out of her own guts. Jordan was content to just stand there for a minute, but then he put his hands on the back of her legs. Christine flinched as he pulled her legs forward, making her fall backwards, but Rebecca was there behind her to catch her head. Christine found herself horizontal, held up by Jordan’s hands on her legs and Rebecca’s hands under her shoulders. She looked up at her sister, who was grinning madly.

“Master Jordan told me I’d earned another,” she said proudly, and then she was pushing Christine’s head to the ground and sitting on it, her wet pussy slapping against her sister’s mouth once again. She didn’t bother to order Christine and she didn’t need to: the teenager immediately began eating her out, not wanting to risk further abuse. It didn’t save her from Rebecca groping her chest, squeezing her breasts like she hoped to make them pop. Christine screamed into her sister’s pussy as sharp fingernails sank into her, drawing blood. “Remember that time you burned my tits with a blowtorch while I had to lick you over and over?” she asked. “Or when you stuck all those pins in them? There was the pliers, and the knife, and the corkscrew, and the taser… you tortured my tits a hundred different ways just to encourage me to make you cum a little faster. Well how do you like a taste of your own medicine, you filthy cunt?”

Christine didn’t understand what Rebecca was talking about, and didn’t have time to think about it as her sister dug her nails even deeper and began raking her breasts with them. She screamed and convulsed, lashing Rebecca’s slit with her tongue. In front of her, Jordan was starting to move, using his grip on her legs as leverage to fuck her. He moved at a calm pace, clearly in no hurry to be done anytime soon. Despite the slow movement, her toes curled up at the way he made her insides ache. She was extra tight right now because of the thing in her ass, and the spit lubrication had only been enough to let him move inside her, not anywhere near enough to make it painless for her. She hung between her two rapists, body twisting as she was tortured from both ends.

Pain shot through her as Jordan let go of one leg and grabbed her clit, and she squealed when he let go of the other leg too, and her lower half was now held entirely by his grip on her sensitive love button. He tugged hard enough to lift her up and down, and she wailed in misery at this new abuse. “For the last time,” he said, his voice stern and cold. “I didn’t. Tell you.. To stop fucking yourself.” Christine immediately grabbed for the rubber cock, and the spike of adrenaline made her jerk it hard enough to make the entire thing, head and all, come out with a sickening pop. In a sudden panic, she pushed it back against herself, trying to force it back in, but her anus refused. Her muscles were too stiff and her arms were too tired and-

Jordan kicked the base of the dildo hard, which did two things: buried several inches of it into her, and fractured the palm of her hand, which had been caught between the hard rubber and his foot. Christine screamed from the dual pains, and again as he kicked it a second time, and a third, and a fourth, not stopping until the fake cock had completely disappeared inside of her. “Since you were too lazy to do it yourself,” he told her and she could hear the smirk.

Christine let her broken hand drop to the floor, both of her arms now effectively useless and radiating agony. Jordan grabbed her legs again to continue fucking her, and Rebecca decided to rake her nails over sister’s nipples, and all Christine could do about any of it was frantically lick and lick, hoping that making Rebecca cum might make the two of them stop. For a long time, she stayed like that between the two of them, in more pain than she could ever remember experiencing in her life.

Rebecca’s juices began to gush again, and the teenager eagerly sucked at her slit to help her finish. “Fucking slut,” her sister breathed as she grabbed Christine’s nipples and twisted them so hard that the girl feared she was genuinely trying to rip them off. “Taste… of your own… goddamn medicine!” She came hard on her sister’s face, shuddering with pleasure even as Christine continued to scream.

“Hold her mouth open,” Jordan said when Rebecca’s orgasm had passed, and the woman eagerly complied, hooking her fingers into Christine’s cheeks to spread her mouth obscenely wide. Jordan began fucking her harder, using rough trusts that made her twitch in pain. After a couple minutes of this, he pulled out and let her legs drop to the floor, and Christine cried out as the landing both jostled her injured arms and knocked the dildo even deeper. He stroked himself for a couple seconds, and then began to cum, the hot spurts landing on her face and chest and into her open mouth. “That’s it,” he said, pleased. “There’s that little shudder.”

When it was all over, Christine lay limp on the floor, so many different parts of her body competing to be the one that hurt most. Her chest, her ass, her broken arm, her pussy, her broken hand, her clit… everything throbbed and pulsed with agony. She’d never been so exhausted.

But Jordan didn’t care. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and tugged, forcing her up to her feet. “Please, master,” she heard herself begging. “Please, let me rest… just a little rest, I’ll be a good fucktoy for both of you, I promise, but I need rest…”

“What you need,” he said brusquely, “is to shut your mouth and do as you’re told. Bitch, pull that cock out of her ass for me.” Christine’s legs buckled and she fell to her knees as Rebecca eagerly shoved her hand inside her sister’s ass and wrenched the dildo out of her. She was too hoarse to scream, but she tried her best. “Now show her its other purpose.”

Even after everything, when Christine saw her sister point the thing at her mouth she refused to believe it at first. They couldn’t possibly expect something that long and thick to fit. The stench of shit hit her nostrils as the rubber head was pushed against her half parted lips. “If she doesn’t open her mouth wide enough,” Rebecca asked, “can I smash her teeth to get it in?” Her tone expressed very clearly how much she looked forward to that idea.

“Of course you can, Bitch,” Jordan told her. “If she’s too lazy to swallow a cock properly, she doesn’t deserve teeth.” Christine immediately felt her sister pushing hard, and she hurriedly opened her mouth as wide as she could, wide enough that her lip split. The dildo sank into her, stopping when it butted against the entrance to her throat. Jordan held the back of Christine’s head while Rebecca continued to push as hard as she could. With her own blood and shit as lubrication, the head slowly, painfully slowly, worked its way into her, compressing to squeeze in.

Her first thought when it breached her throat was that she was going to suffocate. She often found herself struggling to breathe when Jordan throatfucked her, and this thing was significantly thicker. But there was a small hole at the very tip of the penis, and she discovered that it went all the way through. If she sucked on the entire cock like a straw, she could get some air. Her initial reaction was relief, but it only took a few breaths to realize that the airway was no gift or mercy; it was torture. It took all of her effort, her chest heaving with everything she had, to draw just a faint, meager trickle of air through it. She would much rather have just suffocated, and she tried to hold her breath, hoping that if she passed out they’d remove the dildo to keep her alive, but her self preservation instincts turned against her. Her body had an intrinsic need to breathe, and it forced her muscles to work despite the growing ache of her lungs and diaphragm. Her nostrils flared with effort as she remained on her knees, feeling more miserable every second the thing was inside her. She was getting oxygen, yes, but she wasn’t getting to breathe, not really, and the desperate need to do so grew and grew.

When the rubber cock deep enough inside her that only the base remained outside, protruding from her spread lips, Rebecca stopped pushing and grabbed the straps that Christine had noticed earlier. The teenager knew something awful was going on when her sister used them to buckle the dildo in place behind her head, but she didn’t truly begin to panic until Jordan slipped a small padlock on the buckle. Her master held up a mirror to reveal writing on the base that she hadn’t been able to notice before: NOT YET. “One of the problems I had with Bitch for a little while was that she lacks impulse control,” Jordan told her. “Sometimes she would get herself too worked up, and despite knowing better, she’d go ahead and use your mouth before she’d earned it. And as much as I enjoy punishing her, it was starting to become a hassle. So I came up with a solution: make it physically impossible for her to use you without my permission. Not unless she tears the straps off, anyway, and that would merit a particularly harsh reaction.”

Rebecca whined. “Your bitch will never do that, Master Jordan! Sometimes she’s a bad girl, but only because she’s too stupid and slutty to think straight. She would never directly go against your wishes. As long as Christine has her throat plug on, your bitch knows she can’t use her mouth yet.”

“That’s right. From now on, slave, you will wear this plug whenever you’re in private. The only times it will come out is when it’s time for one of us to use your mouth. And when I’d like to see you get buttfucked with it, of course. It would be a waste to have you sucking on that all day and not be tasting your shit on it.” He tapped the base. “’Not yet’. A reminder to your sister that if you’re still wearing this, she hasn’t hurt you enough yet to cum.”

“Can your bitch hurt her some more now?” Rebecca asked. “Her cunt is still so hungry!”

Tears rolled down Christine’s cheeks as Jordan produced another dildo, this time a long double headed one, and began stuffing one half down her sister’s throat. “Go repay Christine’s cunt licking by giving hers some nice deep kisses with this, Bitch.” She wasn’t crying at the thought of having to wear this disgusting dildo gag for hours every day from now on, even though enduring even one more minute with it seemed impossible. She wasn’t crying because Rebecca was forcing her onto her back so she could bury her head between her thighs, violently fucking Christine’s sore pussy. She wasn’t crying because Jordan was already hard again, and she knew that she would be hurting even more by the time he came.

Before today, she’d been getting raped morning, day, and night by someone who delighted in humiliating her and punishing her for every mistake. Her parents and teachers and friends all thought she was a sick freak. She’d been forced to do all sorts of terrible things to her own sister, and help someone do even worse. She’d been so miserable that it was getting harder to get out of bed every day, harder to resist the voice telling her how easy it would be to just down a bottle of sleeping pills and escape. She had thought, she had truly thought, that her life had hit rock bottom.

And now she saw that wasn’t true at all. She was already wishing she could return to the way things were before. When she had a sister who loved her. When she could find peace for a time just by draining her master’s balls dry. When something as simple as breathing wasn’t being denied to her as a cruel joke.

But even that wasn’t why she was crying. Christine began to sob because she understood now that even this wasn’t the end. Jordan was going to keep making her life worse and worse, and the day would come when this would be the state she wanted to return to. There would never be a rock bottom, just deeper and deeper depths to sink to. And she was in freefall.

**********

Christine wasn't perfect. When Jordan took her sister away, she'd been horrified, and there was nothing in the world that she wouldn't have done to save Rebecca if given the chance. But at the same time, it was true that there was a part of her, a tiny piece that she hated and suppressed, that had been happy with the development. A small and selfish part that had hoped that now that Jordan had two victims to divide his attention between, it would mean less suffering for herself.

By the time Rebecca had been back for two and a half days, Christine fully understood how foolish that hope had been.

"Mmmmppph!" She screamed into her dildo gag as Jordan and Rebecca rammed into her at the same time from opposite directions. Rebecca had a new dildo, but she wasn’t wearing it as a strap-on this time. She was crouched in front of Christine instead, using her hands to shove it into her. The fake cock was long enough to crush her cervix, bringing a spike of pain and nausea. Her guts felt no better, already raw and bleeding as Jordan grabbed her hips and slammed into her with all his weight. Both cocks rubbed against each other through the thin wall that separated them as her rapists strained to push in as hard and deep as they could.

They held like that for a few seconds, Christine's squirming body between them, before withdrawing to let her choke again. The teenager was strung up from the ceiling, hanging in midair from a literal rope noose around her neck while her arms hung limply at her sides. She knew full well that there was no solid ground she could reach, but her survival instincts overrode her rational brain, making her flail and twist in place, legs kicking in a useless attempt to find relief. The rough rope bit into her neck cruelly, some blood dripping down her chest as it worried at abraded skin.

"Ooooone," Rebecca counted, smiling at Christine's plight. "Twoooooo.... threeeeeeee...." She was supposed to be giving a sixty second count, but she drew each number out, happy to prolong her sister's suffering. "Fouuuuur... fiiiiiiiiive..."

Christine's vision was already starting to darken by the time Rebecca reached the halfway point. She wasn't sure that she'd still be conscious by the time her sister finished. She wasn't even sure that she'd be alive. In the three hours that she'd hung from this spot, they had tortured her like this about seventy times, and on five occasions Rebecca had gone too far and let her die. Each time she'd felt it happen, felt her life slipping away completely until she strangled to death. And then she would come back, revived by Jordan's impossible new power.

"Thirty seeeeeeven... thirty eiiiiiight..." Rebecca wagged her slime covered cock at Christine. "Almost time for another date with this, slut! Thirty niiiiiiine..."

Even those brief moments where they impaled her, letting her catch a few breaths at the cost of a brutal fucking, brought no real relief. The "sister fucker" dildo was still wedged down her throat, like it had been whenever she wasn’t sucking on Jordan or licking out Rebecca or having her mouth put some other horrible use. The pathetic amount of air she could get through the massive throat plug during the few seconds they were inside her was enough to survive, but nowhere near enough to ease the pounding of her head or to quench her burning lungs. These three hours of seeming constant suffocation had been an uninterrupted hell for Christine. And... and it wasn't fair!

She knew that it wasn't a rational thought. And if they'd allowed her to sleep for even just a few minutes since they’d come back, or let her put anything, anything at all into her stomach other than piss and cum and shit and pussy juice, she wouldn't be having it. But they hadn't. And it wasn't fair.

Christine was used to the idea of Jordan hurting her. He did it all the time, like when he raped her ass, which remained a humiliating and agonizing experience no matter how often he did it. But unless she was being punished for something, like letting a drop of cum leak from her mouth when sucking him, or expressing the slightest sign of reluctance when he wanted to fuck her sore pussy for the fourth time in a single night, he'd never been interested in directly and deliberately torturing her. As long as she behaved like the perfect fucktoy he demanded her to be, the pain was merely a byproduct.

But not anymore. Even though she was doing everything right, he kept hurting her. And so many of the things he was doing for fun were even worse than the punishments she'd worked so hard to avoid ever getting again. It wasn't just this sick game of strangling her over and over. Last night, while she'd knelt sucking his cock,.he'd ordered Rebecca cane her ass until she swallowed his load. He didn't have to do that! She'd already been sucking him just the way he liked, maintaining unbroken eye contact while she enthusiastically massaged him with her throat. The caning hadn't made her performance improve, it had done the opposite. The distraction of her burning backside had caused her to make mistakes and not give him the best throat job she could, for which she’d been thoroughly punished after.

"Forty fiiiiiive... forty siiiiiiiix..."

And this morning! She'd been riding Rebecca's strap-on while her sister laid on the floor, and then Jordan had come by with some cigarettes and a lighter, removed the dildo gag, and told her to stick.out her tongue. She'd done so without question, of course, and then howled when he'd pressed the tip of a lit cigarette against it. It had hurt so badly, but when he lit another cigarette and told her to stick out her tongue again, she'd obeyed without hesitation again, praying that it was just a test to see if she would still submit to him even when she knew it meant pain.

It hadn't been a test. He'd ground the second cigarette slowly against her tongue, making her scream as her flesh turned black. And then he'd done it a third time, and a fourth, and a fifth. He didn't stop until the entire pack of cigarettes was gone and her tongue was covered with small burn marks. And she'd passively let him do it each time, not daring to refuse even once. She'd thought she'd at least earned herself a rare head pat or the cherished compliment of "good fucktoy", but he'd just made her lick him instead, smiling as even the lightest touch of her burned tongue against his shaft made her whimper in pain.

It wasn't fair! It wasn't fair! It wasn't fair!

"Fifty threeeeee... fifty fouuuuuuuur..." All of Christine's movements had ceased by now, her oxygen starved body no longer obeying any commands. She dangled in the hallway of her family's home, her toes less than three inches from the floor, unable to do anything but wait and see if she died again.

Rebecca was even crueler to her than Jordan. She didn't just want to hurt Christine, she wanted to destroy her. She'd tried to convince Jordan to stick her hand in the food processor while he fucked her, telling him how well Christine would clench and squirm while.her fingers were reduced to bloody bits. Just a few hours ago, she'd decided to find out how many of her massive dildos could fit in Christine's ass at the same time. She'd made it up to three, her sister's anal ring torn wide open, and spent more than fifteen minutes trying her best to cram a fourth in despite all of Christine's desperate gagged screams. After she finally gave up, she made up for it by taking a frying pan from the kitchen and using it like a bat to drive the three dildos as deep into her bleeding hole as possible. She'd done so much damage that Jordan had to rewind time afterward, though not before making her suck all three dildos clean.

Despite everything, Christine felt no anger towards her sister. Every act of cruelty only made her feel more sorry for her. She'd picked up enough bits and pieces to figure out that Rebecca's time with Jordan had been like this, nonstop sex and torture without sleep or sustenance, but even more intense. Three days of this had been more than enough to fray Christine's sanity. Rebecca had been put through seven months. And Christine understood by now that this had been Jordan's ultimate goal for her, to mold her into this deranged and vicious sadist who despised her. The fact that it had taken him so long was a testament to how deeply Rebecca had loved her, and how incredibly hard she must have fought to keep hold of herself. Christine couldn't hate her sister. She could only mourn her.

“Fifty eiiiiiight… fifty niiiiine………… fifty nine and a haaaaaalf……… fifty nine and three quaaaaaarters……. sixty!” Rebecca and Jordan smashed into her again. She felt her master’s cock twitching inside of her. He was close, very close, and she prayed that this would be the time he came. She clenched him with her ass, trying to persuade him to stay inside her just a little longer, just enough to cum. Please, please, please…

He pulled back, and she sagged with disappointment as Rebecca resumed her count. There was another round of slow strangulation followed by violent fucking. And then another. And another. And another. She died. And another. And another…

Jordan’s hot seed began to fill her asshole, and she nearly wept with happiness. It might finally be over. It wasn’t guaranteed; this was the fourth time he’d finished in her while she’d been hanging. But this load had taken him much longer than the others, which meant he might be almost spent, or at least getting bored with her current torture. And she was right! Once he’d squirted the last drops of his sperm into her, he started untying the rope noose. While he worked, Rebecca had her head down close to the floor, lapping up every trace of dirt she could find.

“Would you like to know a secret?” he asked her quietly, low enough that Rebecca wouldn’t be able to hear. Without waiting for an answer, he continued. “These last few days weren’t just to celebrate Rebecca’s transformation, they were to test it. This is actually the third time we’ve tried this, even though both of you don’t remember. The first two times, after seeing how much you were suffering, Bitch eventually hesitated to keep hurting you, which meant she wasn’t ready and needed a few more weeks of work. But this time… three days, and she’s still eager! And now we’re at the very final test. Ready?”

He raised his volume. “Bitch, I have a special treat for you.”

Rebecca wagged her ass as she knelt for him. “What is it, Master Jordan? Do I get to eat your delicious shit again? Or get strangled by your bare hands? Or would you like to fuck one of my holes? All of your bitch’s holes would looooove the chance to worship her master.”

“Even better than that,” Jordan told her. “When we get back, I’m going to leave you with Christine all night long, and you can use her mouth as many times as you want!”

Rebecca’s eyes lit up, and she had an open mouthed grin. “Really?! As many times as I want?”

“Absolutely,” he confirmed. “You don’t even have to hurt her.”

Rebecca hesitated. “Can… can I hurt her anyways, Master Jordan?”

Christine could tell from Jordan’s smile that her sister had just passed his test. “Of course you can hurt her, Bitch,” he said, and patted her head. “Good dog. Don’t forget to give her your present too.” He yawned and stretched before turning to Christine. “Well, slave, I guess this is goodbye.”

“Good… bye, master?” Christine asked warily. She already knew it wasn’t going to be anything good.

The way his smile widened confirmed it. “I told you, this is only the celebration. We’re not going to continue like this. Remembering that your sister once fought to save you? Remembering exactly how she ended up as my pet? That’s no fun at all. I already talked to her to find out the perfect point to reset to.” He looked down at Rebecca, who’d gone back to cleaning the floor. “Are you ready to say hello to your sister for real?”

“Mmm hmmm!” Rebecca said. “Your bitch can’t wait! She’ll make sure your slave suffers!”

“You really do make a good pet,” Jordan said. “I’ll make sure to get you your toys once we’re back. You know, I used to despise you, Bitch, but now I’m grateful you were such a stubborn dumb cunt back then. Without you, I’d never be able to make Christine suffer this much.” He grabbed her shoulder.

**********

Christine returned home to find an unfamiliar car sitting in the family driveway. She eyed it suspiciously as she walked by. There were no such thing as good surprises in her life anymore. Was it someone showing up to harass her? Maybe Jordan was sending people directly to her house to rape her now.

But when she got inside, she discovered that she knew the car's owner. “Becky!” she said, amazed. “I... why are you back from college already? I thought spring break was still weeks away!”

Rebecca grinned back at her. “What can I say? I missed my little splort.”

Christine had spent her whole life worshipping her older sister. There was only a three year difference between them, but it always felt like such a huge gap. Even now, Rebecca was in college, she could drive, she could even drink alcohol. She was like a real adult.

Her sister was everything Christine had ever wanted to be, strong and smart and confident. It all came so easy for her. Unlike Christine's boy shyness, Becky had always been fearless around guys, knowing exactly how to wrap them around her little finger. She barely needed to study, either; she'd gotten into her top college pick without even trying, breezing through all her exams. And in her last year of high school, she'd led their Track team to the nationals.

“Where are you going to sleep?” Christine asked. “I-I moved into your room, so will you take my old one?”

Rebecca's smile faded just a little. “We're gonna be bunking together, Chrissy. It'll be like a sleepover every day!”

Ah. Christine suddenly understood why Rebecca was home so early. Her parents thought Christine needed a keeper. They'd been trying to get her to spend time with them more and more, but she couldn't defy Jordan, so she had keep making excuses for staying holed up in her room for hours on end. And after the police and the suspension, and Danny... they didn't trust her anymore. They hadn't even tried to talk to her about it directly.

It stung, but only a bit. If her sister was going to be keeping tabs on her, it gave Christine the perfect excuse for Jordan. He'd no doubt push her to find ways to get herself alone from time to time, but he couldn't completely dominate her evenings anymore.

After dinner, Christine helped Rebecca move a futon into the bedroom. “I'm just gonna chill out up here for a little while,” said her sister, sounding slightly embarrassed. “Play some games on my phone. You can go ahead and study.”

Christine smiled reassuringly at her, trying to show her that her presence was welcome. “Sure thing, Becky. Don't worry about it.” She settled down to study.

As she'd expected, it didn't take long for Jordan to comment on the situation. “The heck is your sister doing here?” was suddenly scribbled across one page of her textbook.

Christine glanced behind her to make sure Rebecca wasn't watching her too closely, then wrote back. “I'm so sorry, master, she's home from college early and staying in my room. I won't be able to serve you tonight like usual. I'll be so horny without you, but I'll have to make up for it some other time.”

She could almost hear the sullenness in his reply. “Fine. You'd better be prepared for some serious fucking at lunch then.”

“Oh thank you, master,” she promptly answered. “I'll look forward to it!” When no further messages came, Christine breathed a small sigh of relief. For tonight, at least, she was safe. She carefully erased every trace of the writing away just to be safe, then resumed her homework.

Behind her, Rebecca coughed. “Things have been kinda hectic around here lately, haven't they?”

“...Yeah.”

Rebecca rolled off the futon and sat down on one corner of the desk. “Alright, that was my attempt at subtle. I suck at subtle. What you told the cops about Jordan Seeler... did you really make it all up?”

Christine tried to meet her sister's piercing eyes, but quickly gave up and stared at the floor instead. “...Yes, I made it all up. He... I got mad at him over something stupid, so I... I tried to get back at him... I didn't realize how serious my prank was.”

“And the stuff you did at school, that got you suspended?”

“Just... just looking for attention.”

Rebecca sighed. “Christine, you're a lousy liar.” Christine suddenly found herself swept up in her sister's arms. “He did rape you, didn't he?”

“...No no...” Christine started to shake. “I... I lied about it...”

“No.” Her sister's voice was firm. “No, you didn't.”

Christine's vision began to blur with tears. “I was just looking for attention... like everybody said... just making up stories...”

Rebecca squeezed her tighter. “It's okay, Chrissy. It's okay. I believe you. I believe he raped you. You weren't lying about it.”

There was a sort of… ripple. If Christine hadn’t become so sensitive to when Jordan used his power, she wouldn’t have felt anything at all, but there it was. She wasn’t in any kind of state to think much of it though. She tried to struggle out of the hug, but Rebecca was stronger than she was. “No... I'm just a stupid whore... just a lying worthless bitch...”

“That’s right,” her sister hissed in her ear, her embrace growing painfully tight. “That’s exactly what you are.”

“B-Becky?” Christine asked, confused. “Ow! You’re, you’re hurting me!”

“Hurting you?” Her sister laughed and released her. “No, cunt, this is what hurting you looks like.” She belted Christine across the face.

The stunned teenager collapsed to her knees, then groaned as her sister kicked her hard in the ribs. What was going on? And why was Becky behaving like this? This had to be a dream, or a nightmare, or… or something. There was no way Becky would ever do anything like this! But the pain felt all too real, and it only increased as her sister continued kicking her. She whimpered helplessly, lost and scared.

“Awwww, is someone not feeling well?” mocked Rebecca as she rolled Christine over with a foot and straddled her hips. “That’s what happens when you’re a dirty little slut who doesn’t appreciate Master Jordan’s love!” She grabbed the neck of Christine’s shirt and tore it down the middle, then ripped off her bra. “Not like me. I love him so much more than you do, you filthy, stupid, ungrateful piece of shit!”

“M-master Jor-mmph?!” Rebecca cut her sister’s horrified query off by grabbing some dirty socks off the floor and stuffing them into Christine’s mouth. While she gagged on the rancid, sweaty taste, Rebecca used the destroyed bra as a makeshift gag to hold them in place.

“Save your breath, slut,” Rebecca told her. “I’ll have plenty of use for that mouth in a minute, but for now, we don’t want to disturb Mom and Dad, do we?” Her sister wore a crazed gleeful look as she started removing her earrings. “Master Jordan loves me back, you know. I’m a good dog. That’s why he gave me the honor of doing this.”

Her earrings were simple silver hoops, and Christine began to thrash when Rebecca unclasped the first one. She’d watched hundreds of hours worth of BDSM videos by now, all homework for how to treat Jordan the way he wanted. She knew what was coming next. But her sister calmly drove an elbow into her stomach. “Hold still, cunt.” She licked her lips. “Or I might miss and end up skewering your eye instead… mmm, Master Jordan would punish me for it, but maybe it would be worth it, huh? I know having something shoved into my eye certainly helped me learn my place. Are you going to be a good slave, or do I get to hurt you?” Christine froze; the gleam in her sister’s eyes made it clear that it wasn’t an empty threat.

Rebecca pouted a little at her obedience, but didn’t say anything further. Instead, she pressed the earring pin against Christine’s left nipple. The dirty socks muffled the teenager’s scream as Rebecca drove the metal through her flesh. She’d thought wearing nipple clamps so often had made her used to having her chest tortured, but they were nothing compared to the awful feeling of the pin sliding back and forth inside her as Rebecca fucked the hole with the earring for several minutes before closing it up. She repeated the process with the second earring and Christine’s other nipple, taking her time and making sure the piercing experience was agonizing.

When it was done, she hooked both fingers in the rings and tugged, smiling at Christine’s squeal of pain. “Yeah, these will be perrrrrrfect… now get your fucking clothes off, slut.” She stood up and began stripping out of her own clothing. When she saw Christine not doing the same, she pressed a foot on her neck, making her sister gurgle. “Now.” She didn’t let up until Christine began shakily pulling off her pants.

Once both sisters were naked, Rebecca untied the bra around her head, but didn’t pull the socks out just yet. “You’ve been a lying, manipulative bitch for years now, Chrissy, and sick of it. I don’t want to hear a single word from you, except to answer a direct question. Not a single fucking word. Are you too stupid to manage that?” Christine shook her head, and Rebecca fished the socks out. “Roll over,” she ordered, and Christine quickly obeyed. “And keep quiet.” Christine didn’t understand what she meant until she felt her the pressure against her asshole. She pressed her lips shut to keep from screaming as her sister shoved the socks into her guts, pushing them in deep with her fingers. “You can shit those back out when I’m done with your mouth,” Rebecca told her, and Christine shuddered.

Once she’d pushed the socks in as far she could, Rebecca got up and sat on Christine’s bed with her back against the wall and spread her legs to show her pussy, which already glistened. “Master Jordan told me you’ll have to learn cunt licking all over again. He’s going to be so happy with his bitch when you’re already an expert by tomorrow.” She patted her mound. “Now come get started, slut. I want to ride that lying mouth of yours.”

Christine joined her on the bed, trembling as she regarded her sister’s slit. She’d seen other girls’ bodies in places like the locker room, but never like this. She lowered her head reluctantly, nose crinkling at her sister’s odor. She tasted even worse, and Christine gagged on Rebecca’s warm, wet flesh and recoiled away from her. This was horrible! Rebecca slid her hands around her, and Christine groaned as her sister’s fingers found her nipple rings again and began to tug.

“Get that tongue back in my twat or lose your nipples, Chrissy,” Rebecca growled. “What’s it gonna be?”

Christine buried her head back between her sister’s legs, forcing down her revulsion as she began to lap her pussy. It was already soaked, and tasting her sister’s hot juices almost made her retch, but Rebecca’s fingers were still hooked into her nipple rings, and the slightest hesitation made her sister yank on them like she truly meant to rip them out of her. Before long, Christine was eating her sister out with an eagerness borne of fear and desperation. Rebecca purred with pleasure. “Yeah, that’s the cunt licker I remember. You’re going to be as good as ever in no time, you pussy slurping slut.”

Christine once again had to fight the urge to vomit when her sister came, humping her face to smear her juices all over her. “Mmmmm, do you think I’ve earned another one already?” Rebecca asked when her shivers of pleasure had ceased. “What do you think, cunt? Should I beat your ass black and blue, or hang you up by your new jewelry, or see how far I can cram my fist up your cunt? Or do you think I can just treat myself to another good cum from my dear sister?” She giggled childishly as Christine hurriedly resuming licking her. “I knew that would be your answer.”

Rebecca left one hand ready to torture her sister’s nipples, but pressed her other against the back of Christine’s head, forcing her even harder against her crotch. “I’ll let myself have one more, maybe even two if you do a really good job. But after that, I just have to hurt you some more, Chrissy. I can’t help it, you deserve it too much.” She giggled again. “I think I might enjoy hurting you even more than I enjoy cumming. Isn’t that wonderful? No? Then you’d better start putting some effort into that cunt licking, slut. Convince me that this will be more fun than making you bleed. For now.”

Sobbing, Christine obeyed. She still had no idea what was going on, or who this thing was that wore her sister’s face. But she knew it didn’t matter. This was her life now, and this monster was her sister, and there was only one thing she could do about it. She obeyed.

Chapter Twenty Two

The days passed by slowly, winter completing its transition to spring. Christine kept hoping that things would at least become routine. That at some point, Jordan and her sister would decide that she was suffering enough, and didn't need to be pushed further and further into misery and degradation.

But they never did.

**********

"Christine, for the last time, come down and eat your breakfast!" her mother called sharply from downstairs. She sounded angry, which was her usual state these days.

Christine tried to obey, but Rebecca's thighs tightened around her head to keep her trapped. "Don't even think about it, cunt," her sister snarled softly. "Your breakfast is my pussy juice, and you haven't finished your meal." Christine meekly resumed licking her sister out, while playing with the “sister fucker” dildo that was currently buried in her ass. Last night Jordan had ordered Rebecca to see how hard she could get Christine to clench his cock while he fucked her. Rebecca had left her sister more than half dead, and been rewarded for it with a night of free access to Christine’s mouth.

Time and experience hadn't made the act any easier. She was much better at cunnilingus than she'd been that first night weeks ago when Rebecca came home; her sister had made sure of that. But even after spending multiple hours on it most days, eating another woman out was still utterly repulsive to her. The fact that it was her own sister's slick pussy humping her face while she buried her tongue in it, lapping and swirling just the way Rebecca liked it, only made things worse.

It took two more orgasms before Rebecca allowed her sister to stop. After that, Christine had to quietly endure Rebecca licking her face clean. The woman slurped her own juices off her, then spat them into Christine's open mouth. "Can't go making a mess, right?" she asked. "That was one of your rules after all."

Christine had no idea what sort of circumstances had led to the creation of such horrible and vicious rules. She was fairly certain that they weren't actually hers, though Rebecca seemed convinced of it. They felt far more like something Jordan would do. Getting her sister to blame her instead of him was exactly the sort of thing he would enjoy too.

"Your breakfast has been sitting here for half an hour!" scolded her mother when Christine finally hurried downstairs. "You're going to be late for school, so hurry up and eat it!"

"I'm not hungry," Christine lied. She was actually starving, and even the plate of cold, greasy scrambled eggs looked like a delicious feast. But she was only allowed to eat when Jordan said so. He sometimes permitted her dinner, not wanting to make her parents think she was starving herself, but the rest of her meals came from his cock or her sister's slit. She'd already lost several pounds on what he mockingly referred to as the liquid fucktoy diet.

"Then why didn't you say so?" snapped Mom. "Instead of making me waste time and money cooking you a meal you weren't going to bother eating?"

"I was, I was helping Rebecca out," Christine protested. Which was absolutely true, though she would have been horrified to find out just what kind of help Rebecca had demanded of her sister.

Her mother's eyes narrowed. "Were you? Is that what she'll say if I ask her?"

Christine's shoulders slumped. No, there was no way Rebecca would corroborate her story. If she even found out that Christine had tried to use such an excuse, she would almost certainly punish her for it. She and Jordan had made it clear that there was only one acceptable excuse for Christine's abnormal behavior whenever anyone questioned it. It was what she told her parents when they asked why she was holing herself up in her room, what she told her teachers when they asked why she hadn't completed her assignments, and what she told acquaintances and neighbors who asked why they didn't see her around anymore. "I didn't come downstairs or say anything because I was too busy playing with myself," she lied.

Her mother registered no surprise at the now familiar line, but her mouth twisted in disgust. She picked the plate of eggs up, and with slow deliberation shoveled its contents into the trash. "If that... if you'd rather do that than your schoolwork, or your proper nutrition, or taking care of your poor sister, fine. I'm not cooking breakfast for you again, young lady."

"Yes, Mom," Christine answered sadly. Compared to everything else she had to endure on a daily basis, her mother's scorn should have been nothing, but she found herself fighting back tears. She gave the apology that she knew master would want from her. "I'm sorry your daughter is such a horny slut."

Mom scowled, and looked like she was about to say something further, but the creaking stairs stolen their attention first. "Hiiiii Mommy!" Rebecca said cheerfully as she crawled down them on all fours, not wearing a stitch of clothing.

Their mother averted her eyes, but the pain and sorrow were plain on her face. Anger joined them as she glared at Christine.

As usual, looking at her sister made Christine want to throw up. It wasn't the eyepatch over her missing eye that did it, or the massive gap where her front teeth were supposed to be. It wasn't even her injured legs, whose shredded tendons meant they would never be able to support her weight again. It was the slightly vacant look in her eyes that broke Christine's heart every time she saw it. Whatever master had done to turn her into this, it had ruined more than just her body. Her IQ seemed to have plummeted, and she sometimes had trouble forming sentences. Occasionally she would break into sobs or gales of laughter at a moment's notice and for no apparent reason, and she frequently drooled or soiled herself. She could still function for the most part, especially when it came to abusing her sister, but her mind was as damaged as the rest of her.

Jordan had a theory on how she'd gotten this way, though Christine couldn't tell if it was genuine or just something he said to torment her. "When you jump back with me, your memories stay," he’d said. "That must mean that some portion of your brain makes the journey with you right? And you know how much I love using Bitch's brains as a soft squishy fleshlight. So I figure every time I make hers well fucked and cum soaked, even though I rewind, a little bit of that damage comes back with us. In other words, I'm literally fucking your sister stupid. Isn't that hilarious, slave?" She'd agreed that it was.

The official story was that there had been a car crash. And there had been one; under Jordan's supervision, Christine had driven Rebecca's car straight into a tree while her sister sat in the passenger seat beside her. But they'd damaged the car beforehand to make it look like a more violent crash than it really was. Jordan had already performed all of his grisly changes to Rebecca, and when the paramedics found them a short while later, everything he'd done was written off as an unfortunate result of the accident.

It could have just been a random car accident, but Jordan wanted more from it. He wanted the blame for it to fall squarely on Christine's shoulders, which is why when the paramedics had found them, one of their first discoveries was the two thick vibrators still buzzing inside her. Christine hadn’t even tried to protest his plan. What had happened to Rebecca was her fault, even if she didn’t know exactly how it had occurred. It was obvious that Jordan wanted to poison her sister against her, but at the same time, he wouldn’t have given her a second glance if it wasn’t for Christine, so Christine felt it was only right that Rebecca hate her.

She'd wanted Rebecca to help teach her how to drive, she told the doctor at the hospital later. He was the first person she told, but far from the last; she was required to tell the story to anyone who asked, on Jordan's orders. She'd gotten the idea that it would be fun to masturbate while she drove, so she'd secretly inserted a pair of vibrators into herself before leaving. While on the road, she'd taken both hands off of the steering wheel without thinking so that she could play with her clit, and from there had collided with the tree.

Christine would never forget the look of abject horror and disbelief on her parents' faces when she'd told them the story Jordan had thought up. First their youngest daughter had proven herself to be a filthy degenerate who masturbated in public and wrote obscene messages on herself for attention. And then she'd gone and turned their other daughter, the brilliant, beautiful, and athletic one that they'd always been so so proud of, into a disfigured and brain damaged cripple.

Her father didn't even speak to Christine anymore. About the only times she heard his voice these days were during the screaming matches between him and her mother in their bedroom late at night, which she could dimly hear while servicing Jordan and/or Rebecca upstairs. He'd already left for work this morning. He'd tried to hide the fact that he'd slept on the couch in the living room, but she could see the signs.

Rebecca wobbled and nearly tumbled down the stairs, and their mother rushed to help her. "Slowly, Becky, slowly! Take your time. This is why I wish you would sleep downstairs, so you don’t have to go up and down like this all the time." She discreetly tried to keep from touching anything but her daughter's shoulder and arm. Rebecca had been going around without clothes for weeks. Their parents had tried to convince her to wear some at first, but after a few temper tantrums they gave in, chalking it up as one more instance of absurd behavior caused by the brain damage. Only Christine knew that it was because Jordan had told her that dogs don't wear clothing.

"I don’t mind it, Mommy," Rebecca assured her. "And I like to stay with Chrissy. We get up to so much fun every night! Don't we, splort?"

Christine nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She'd never been a very good actor. If Jordan found out that she'd acted in a way that drew suspicion, like being terrified of her sister, he'd rewind time back to erase it, but not before a thorough discipline session. Last time he'd made a "public" visit to the house, he'd decided afterward that she hadn't looked happy enough to see him. Her punishment had been to shove a baseball bat up her own ass while Rebecca whipped her backside. Once it was in as far as possible, he'd made her fuck him standing up, the bat still jutting out behind her, while she practiced her smiles for him. He hadn't relented until she'd been able to maintain a convincing smile for him even with Rebecca fucking her ass with the bat.

"Is there anything you'd like for breakfast, honey?" their mother asked. "I have to leave for work soon, but I'm happy to make whatever you'd like before I go."

"I dunno, what did Christine have for breakfast?" Rebecca asked. Her tone was innocent, but her true intentions were clear: she was hoping to hear that Christine had broken her diet, so she could tell Jordan and get her into trouble.

"I made her some scrambled eggs," Mom said. "But apparently they're not good enough for her, so I tossed them out. If you like, I can-" Rebecca was already sprinting past her on all fours towards the kitchen, and Christine had to quickly step to the side to avoid being bowled over. She followed her sister into the kitchen, already knowing what she'd find. Sure enough, Rebecca had knocked the trashcan over and was rummaging around inside it. She came up with a fistful of Christine's scrambled eggs. They were speckled with bits of garbage, like coffee grounds and broken eggshells, but Rebecca wore a look of bliss as she shoveled it all into her mouth. "Mmm, thank you, Mommy!" she said as she chewed loudly.

"Y-you're welcome, honey," their mother said weakly when she saw what was going on, looking away as Rebecca started fishing for more bits of egg in the trash. She didn't know that Rebecca was on an even stricter diet than her sister. Supposedly Christine was bringing her dinner up to her every night, but neither of them were allowed to touch it. Jordan usually ate it himself when he showed up, or just made it disappear somewhere.

Instead of the occasional dinners that Christine received, Rebecca's diet was mainly supplemented by dog cum and dog food. Their parents had wondered at first why Bailey was suddenly eating so much more food than before, but the german shepherd seemed happier than he'd ever been, so they had eventually just accepted it. They had no idea that Bailey's good mood was a result of having a human bitch who drained his balls six or seven times a day, usually by swallowing him straight down into her throat so that his hot load would end up right in her stomach.

The only time Rebecca was allowed anything close to real food was when something was thrown away. Another of Jordan's rules: dogs love trash and table scraps. Christine had seen her sister forage through the trash for weeks old leftovers after their mother had cleaned out the fridge, lick up everything her tongue could scrape off of a sink of dirty dishes, and even eagerly claim a few cans of expired dog food that their father had tossed. The cold, garbage stained eggs she was chewing on now were easily the nicest meal she'd eaten all month.

Once Rebecca had found dug every scrap out and licked her hands clean, she smiled up at their mother. "Can Chrissy stay with me today. Mommy? I get lonely all by myself." Officially, Christine’s sister was on a “hiatus” from college, but no one really believed that. She was unfit for school or work in her current state, so she just stayed home all day.

Mom sighed. "I'm sorry, sweetie, but your sister has already missed so many days of school." She shot Christine a look. "If things keep up, she won't even be able to graduate."

It was a terrifying thought. A few months ago, she'd been at the top of her class, and now she was scrambling not to fail every course she was in. Part of that was certainly Jordan’s fault for leaving her no time for homework or studying. But the failing grades she was getting on her tests were all hers. It was impossible to focus on schoolwork these days. Between Jordan and Rebecca, it was getting increasingly rare to find times when she wasn’t being abused and degraded. Her entire life now revolved around being a slave, and everything else, all the things that had once been so important to her, felt wispy and unreal. But she needed to graduate. Going to college was still her only real hope of getting away from Jordan.

Rebecca was eying her, and she knew what the look meant. “I, I’m going to skip school today, Mom,” she said.

Her mother sighed. “As nice as it is to see you take some responsibility for once, your schoolwork needs to be your number one priority right now. You can spend time with your sister tonight.”

Christine could have just accepted that and walked out the door. But Rebecca wanted her to stay, and if she disobeyed, she’d spend all night paying for it. So she fell back on the only option she had left. “I’m not skipping school to take care of Becky,” she told her mother. “I’m doing it so I can go up to my room and play with myself all day.”

Mom stared at her for a long minute, then shook her head. “Fine,” she said. “Fine. I give up, Christine. Do whatever the hell you want.” She left without another word, slamming the front door behind her.

Before the slam had even faded, Rebecca's demeanor changed completely. She still looked slightly out of it, but there was nothing childish in her expression, just fury. "What the fuck are you standing there for?" she demanded.

Christine immediately sank to her knees. She wasn't to stand in Rebecca's presence if she could help it. "I'm sorry, please-"

"Go get one of my toys," interrupted her sister. "The thickest one you can find. You need some exercise before you turn into any more of a fat pig.”

"Yes, Rebecca," Christine said, and quickly crawled away. Rebecca had built up a small collection of toys hidden in their dresser drawers. Their parents had found one of them once, but Christine had claimed it was hers and offered to show them the kind of orgasms it gave her. After that they’d stopped venturing into her room if they could help it.

She couldn’t but find it ironic that despite her growing reputation as a sex obsessed slut, her actual orgasms had become few and far between. Before Rebecca, being raped by Jordan had occasionally caused them. It wasn’t that she’d ever enjoyed a second of his attention, but sometimes the physical stimulation had overwhelmed her disgust at what they were doing, and her body had simply acted on its own.

Not anymore, though. She’d never cum like that even once since Rebecca. She knew exactly why, too. Christine was developing a good feel for when he used his powers, and she’d felt the slight shifts in time every so often, especially when she was finding herself worked up. He was erasing her pleasure whenever she had it, rewinding back without letting her keep her memory of it. There was only one way she was allowed to cum anymore, and that was by begging Jordan to order Rebecca to eat her out. “From now on,” he’d said, “the only orgasms the Summers sisters ever get will come on the tips of each other’s tongues.”

Christine chose a dildo with a large, tapering base and a cock head that almost resembled a baseball in size. She held it in her mouth along with a harness as she crawled back down to Rebecca. “Stand in front of me,” her sister ordered as she strapped it on and laid down on the floor. “And widen your legs... further... there. Now put your hands on the back of your head and lower your hips.”

Christine squatted down until her crotch made contact with the dildo. The thick head felt even bigger than it looked, but she gritted her teeth and forced herself into a deeper squat, swallowing the fake cock up inside her.

It took several minutes to get it entirely inside her, an experience made all the worse by her sister’s running commentary. “I can’t imagine what Master Jordan possibly sees in such a lazy slut. Lower those fucking hips! God, are you going to spend all day on this one measly prick? If this is gonna take so damn long, at least give me a show while you work. Jiggle those fat tits of yours-don’t put your hands down! Get them back on your fucking head right now!! Now keep them there, and jiggle your fucking tits! That’s right, shake your chest back and forth and make those plump titties bounce and bounce and bounce... finally. All that work just to fuck yourself on my cock. Now straighten back up. I didn’t tell you to stop jiggling your tits for me! Keep wiggling around while you grease my pole with that slutty twat. Aaaaaand that’s one, bitch. One hundred and ninety nine more squats to go. Get right back down there. Bounce your cunt on me... nope, that one doesn’t count. You need to go all the way to the base, dumb slut. If I can see a single millimeter of my cock not inside you, it’s not a real squat. There, that’s better, two. Three. Four. Are you getting tired already?! You should be speeding up, not slowing down! How fucking fat and lazy are you?!”

Christine panted, sweat dripping down her blonde locks, as she performed the painful and humiliating squats for her sister. The only thing worse than sinking down on that thick shaft, forcing inch after inch inside of her until she felt her hips smack Rebecca’s, was having to rise back up, fighting against the friction of her own dry and aching pussy. Through it all, her sister mocked and insulted her for struggling.

By number seventy three, her legs felt like wet noodles, and she was almost relieved when she heard Jordan’s amused voice behind her. “Just what are my two favorite cum dumps up to this morning? I got curious when I saw you weren’t in class.”

“Rebecca is... helping me... exercise, master,” breathed Christine, not daring to slow down. Not only would it anger her sister, she was pretty sure that once she stopped, her legs would refuse to obey her again. Inertia was the only reason she could keep going now. “So I don’t... get fat...”

Her empty stomach rumbled in protest at the very idea, and Jordan laughed. “No, we can’t have that, now can we?” She froze as he pulled the “sister fucker” out of her ass and replaced it with his stiff cock. “Why don’t we give your ass muscles some exercise too?”

“Thank you... master...” Christine said meekly. She took the dildo from him and crammed it back into its usual home: her own mouth. They’d trained her to do it herself, but that hadn’t made the experience any less miserable. Once it was completely in, she tried to squat back down, but she’d been right before about the dangers of stopping. Her trembling legs gave out completely, and she collapsed onto her sister.

Jordan had followed her down, still buried inside her. “She’s missing some cock, Bitch. Mind helping her out?”

“Not at all, Master Jordan!” said Rebecca. Christine’s sister grabbed hold of her ass and forced her the rest of the way down, impaling her on the rubber prick. “May I have the honor of licking you clean when you’re done?”

“I tell you what, Bitch,” Jordan said as he began sliding in and out of Christine’s asshole, getting ready for what she could already tell was going to be a brutal assfucking. Jordan was usually at his most vicious in the first fuck of the day, when he’d had to go hours to rejuvenate. “If you can fuck her with yours more times than I can fuck her with mine, I’ll let you clean me while she cleans yours.”

“Thank you, Master Jordan!” said Rebecca, and she began eagerly pushing and pulling Christine up and down the length of her shaft. Jordan began to speed up his own movements, fucking her ass faster and harder with each thrust.

Trapped between them, Christine could do nothing but wait for them to be satisfied. Rebecca hadn’t told her to keep shaking her chest, but she hadn’t told her to stop either, so she continued to submissively jiggle her breasts even though neither of them was watching, her hands still fixed to the back of her head,

As far as most mornings went these days, this one was nothing special. As her sister and her owner competed to see who could fuck her harder, she laid there and accepted her situation for what it was: the beginning of what passed for an unremarkable day in her life now.

**********

Christine’s heart was pounding as she stood in the hall, looking into the classroom. She took a deep breath to try and steady her nerves. It was now or never. She opened the door.

The room was being used as a study hall this period, with a few dozen students in it and no teachers. A few of them were actually studying or doing homework, but most were just on their phones, using the free period to kill time and relax. Her initial entrance didn’t draw much attention, though a couple of the boys took the opportunity to leer at her, and no one seemed to notice when she locked the door behind her. When she peeled off her shirt, though, a stir went through the room. “What the fuck?” asked one of the boys who’d been ogling her.

Christine tried to ignore their stares as she undressed. Some of the students were looking at her like she was crazy, some wore disgusted expressions, and the rest of them, all boys, were eying her like cats spying a juicy mouse. It wouldn’t have been as bad if she could’ve just pulled everything off and been done with it in a few seconds, but Jordan liked a strip tease. So she drew it out, removing her clothing one piece at a time with no great haste. When she had nothing left but her panties, she turned her back on everyone and slowly shimmied them off, wiggling her ass for her audience.

Once she was completely naked, she sank down to her hands and knees, causing another stir. Jordan had chosen a seat at the back of the room, and to reach him she had to crawl right by most of the others, which was no doubt why he’d chosen that spot in the first place. More than one student took the opportunity to cup a swinging breast or smack her ass as she went by. Jordan had a grin on his face as he watched her approach, but he otherwise gave no reaction as she buried her face in his crotch and began nuzzling him.

“Please, master,” she begged, just the way he wanted her to. “Please, I miss you so much! May I taste you?” Without waiting for an answer, she found his zipper with her teeth and began slowly unzipping his pants.

“Sorry everyone,” Jordan said, not sounding the slightest bit sorry at all. “My girlfriend gets real needy sometimes. Just pretend she’s not here.”

“Is that a fucking joke, Jordan?!” exclaimed one of the other students. “How are we supposed to ignore that?”

Christine finished getting his zipper down, and pressed her face against his exposed boxers, where his prick was already rock hard. She eased him out of his underwear with just her lips and tongue, something she had hundreds of hours of practice doing by now.

“I’m going to go tell the teachers,” one of the two other girls in the room said, and Christine heard her stand up from her seat. She was one of the ones who’d looked disgusted.

“Please don’t,” Christine murmured as she started to lick Jordan’s exposed cock. “I just need a little taste. I’m so huuuungry for him.”

“Just chill, Sandy,” said the other girl. Nadine sounded more amused than disgusted. Christine’s former best friend had turned on her completely after what had happened with Danny. She’d had a crush on the jock, and she was convinced that Christine had set him up somehow. After Jordan and Rebecca, Christine didn’t think there was anyone else in the world who hated her more. “Let the crazy slut do her thing. It’s not like we didn’t already know she was fucked in the head.”

“No, fucked in the head is what she’s about to be,” said one of the boys with a crude laugh, and his friends joined in.

Christine’s face was beet red as she swallowed Jordan’s cock into her mouth and started bobbing up and down, eagerly fucking him with her throat. She could’ve done it quietly and efficiently, but she knew that wasn’t the way he wanted it right now. Instead, she gagged loudly every time he bottomed out, and let her saliva leak out her mouth and down her front as she gave him a wet and messy throatjob.

“Okay, this seriously needs to stop,” Sandy said, sounding shaken. Christine knew the girl, though they’d never been friendly even in the best of times. She came from a religious, ultra conservative family, and looked down on everyone that was “beneath” her. She’d have been as unpopular as Christine herself if she wasn’t also one of the prettiest girls in school: nearly six feet tall, with straight black hair that went all the way down to the small of her back. “This is vile. You should be ashamed of yourself, Christine.”

Christine could have told her that she was. Fucking Jordan in private was one thing. A painful and humiliating thing, but at least it didn’t include people looking at her like she was some sort of freak. None of his or Rebecca’s many taunts and insults stung nearly as much as the silent, judging stares of everyone around her.

Instead, she reached back to spread her slit open with her fingers. “My other -mmm- mouth is -mmm- hungry too,” she said as she throatfucked Jordan. “Won’t someone -mmm- feed me -mmm- back there?” She wiggled her ass again to try and entice them. “See how -mmm- much it’s -mmm- drooling? -mmm- You could -mmm- just slide -mmm- right in!” On his orders, she’d skipped her last class so she could spend it fingering herself in the bathroom to get wet. She wasn’t allowed to cum, so by the end of the hour her pussy was red and puffy and soaked, and she could feel lines of her juices running down her legs.

“Mike, you can’t be serious!” said Sandy indignantly as Christine heard someone’s pants unzip. “You can’t just... think of all the filthy diseases she must have by now!”

“She’s clean,” said Jordan calmly. “On birth control too, because she hates condoms. Isn’t that right, Christine?” She nodded. “Anyone who wants a piece of her, go ahead. She’s too much for just my one cock to handle.”

Someone pushed into her. Christine was wet enough that it didn’t hurt physically, but the knowledge that she was being raped by a stranger made her stomach twist into knots. Sandy made a sound of horrified revulsion as Christine began fucking herself on him, rocking her hips while she hugged him with her pussy muscles.

“Fuck me,” breathed the boy behind her. Mike? She didn’t even know him. “She’s, shes like a, a, fuuuuuuuuck....” It had been less than twenty seconds, but he was already spurting in her.

“You have to be careful with that cunt of hers,” Jordan advised. “She’ll wring you out in seconds if you’re not used to her. Try going another round, and be easier on him this time, Christine. Give him the chance to enjoy you.”

“Yes -mmm- master.”

Mike or whoever was already growing stiff again, and she fucked him much more slowly, trying to caress instead of just squeeze. It still took less than a minute before he started to twitch inside her, and she quickly relaxed herself to reduce the stimulation and prolong her rape. He groaned in pleasure, but didn’t cum, and after a few moments she tightened around him again. This was a game she’d played with Jordan many times in the last few months, spending hours bringing him right up to the point of climax and then drawing back. Jordan had told her that when she did it right, it was like getting to fuck her a hundred times on a single load.

“That’s it,” Jordan said affectionately. “Good girl. Give him a nice, long ride. Let’s say ten minutes? There are others waiting their turn, after all. Probably more than you could properly satisfy in the hour we have. Hmm...”

Christine felt the familiar flicker of time rolling back. It didn’t take long to figure out what Jordan had been doing. “Sandy, what the....?” she heard behind her.

There was the sound of clothes hitting the floor, and Sandy let out a small sob. “Please, please fuck me too,” she squeaked, sounding terrified. “Please, I need to be fucked, I need to be fucked, I need to be fucked...”

Christine didn’t know what Jordan had done to the poor girl to get her to submit like that, and she didn’t want to know. None of the others seemed to notice her obvious discomfort, or maybe they just didn’t care. From the corner of her eye, she saw a couple of them lift her and lay her face up across a desk . One of them stepped between her spread legs and rubbed himself against her slit. “You sure about this, Sandy?” he asked. He sounded to reluctant to have to ask the question, like it was taking all his willpower to not just fuck her immediately.

“Yes,” she insisted. “Yes, I need to be fucked, I need-“ she gasped as he sank into her.

“Damn!” the boy said in amazement. “You were a virgin?!” Christine winced, wondering how many times Jordan had probably taken that virginity himself before he’d been satisfied. He grabbed her hips and forced himself deeper into her. She let out a pained sound, but it was soon cut off as the other boy stuffed his cock into her mouth.

“That prissy, uptight attitude of yours never fooled me,” that one told her as he began to play with her tits. Sandy was already crying, but her hands remained passively at her sides, and she kept her lips closed tight around him as he rocked in and out of her mouth. “I always knew you were a slut.”

“What... what if this is like a trap?” nervously said one of the ones who hadn't joined in yet. “Danny and his friends were claiming it was consensual too, right? What if one of them starts calling this rape after the fact?”

Nadine laughed. “Don't worry, I've been recording everything since Christine started stripping. I’ll post it somewhere later tonight, with everyone else’s faces censored, of course. You want your face blurred out too, Sandy?” When the only answer she received was another muffled litany of “I need to be fucked”, she laughed again. “I’ll call that a ‘no’”.

Christine's shame deepened at the idea of even more people watching her humiliation, but she did her best to shake the thought from her head. Thirty or a hundred or a thousand people seeing her like this, it didn't matter, she reminded herself. This was far from the first time Jordan had made her perform in public, and he always reset things afterward. Letting people see what kind of relationship they had was too much of a risk.

Christine tried to ignore the soft squeals the girl next to her made as she was raped by the two oblivious students. She had her own rapists to worry about. She was still carefully teasing the one in her cunt, but the time it took to bring him to the edge was getting shorter and shorter. One mistake and he'd finish in her sooner than Jordan had ordered. And Jordan himself was poised to finish soon, his throbbing cock hot against her tongue. She flicked her eyes up at him, seeking permission, and he nodded, reaching down to tug on her hair three times. Christine immediately pushed her head all the way down, swallowing every inch of his cock until her outstretched tongue was able to lap at his balls, wordlessly begging them to send his cum into her belly.

It only took seconds for him to answer her request. Her throat was so tight around him that she could feel the semen traveling through his shaft as he finished inside her. She was hungry enough that the familiar warmth of his seed in her stomach was only nauseatingly disgusting this time, as opposed to the usual reaction of having to stop herself from throwing up. She even found herself hoping that his load was extra thick this time. She needed all the calories she could get.

Jordan kept his hands tangled in her hair when he was done, and Christine knew what that meant. She pulled back far enough to leave the soft, wet head of his dick in her mouth, and began gently sucking on it to get him hard again. Behind her, she was having the opposite problem. Mike couldn't handle anymore of the teasing, and he'd started pounding her himself. On the sixth stroke he moaned and shot his wad into her cunt.

“That was a little less than ten minutes,” Jordan said. His tone was light, but Christine shivered; she would be punished for it later. “But I know how greedy that tight cunt of yours gets, Christine. You just couldn't help yourself, could you?” She nodded meekly, not daring to argue.

She did better with the next one, and the one after that. “Why don't you guys switch to her ass?” Jordan suggested afterward. “Now that her pussy is all sloppy and sticky with cum, her butt will be a much better ride.”

“Won't be as tight as this one’s was,” one of the boys joked, and slapped Sandy's ass. She was lying on the floor being fucked by three of them now, sandwiched by two while a third held her head up and fed her his cock. Her eyes were glassy and dull, and she was as limp as ragdoll, unmoving and silent save for the occasional twitch or sob. In the beginning, they'd asked her every couple of minutes whether she was really okay with this, but after getting the same response every time - “yes, I need to be fucked, I need to be fucked” - they'd stopped bothering.

Christine performed like she was supposed to, using two fingers to scoop up some of the bodily fluids inside her, then sticking them in her butt to lubricate the way for everyone. She spread her cheeks apart, showing her dripping asshole off to everyone.

“See how red and loose she is back there?” Jordan asked them. “That's because she insists on getting assfucked at least once a day, don't you, Christine?”

She nodded, grateful that having her head in his crotch meant not having to show them her blushing face and humiliated tears. “I love having master in my ass,” she told them, speaking around Jordan’s dick. “His thick cock feels so good wedged in my shit hole, and tastes so yummy when I lick him clean after.”

Several of the boys laughed, and the Nadine brought her phone closer, holding it right up to Christine’s face. “I want to make sure your audience hears that one properly. One more time, Christine Summers?”

Christine let Jordan slip out of her mouth and faced the phone squarely. “I love having master in my ass,” she said softly. “His thick cock feels so good wedged in my shit hole, and tastes so yummy when I lick him clean after.” She hurriedly swallowed Jordan back up as more laughter rang out through the room.

“There,” said the brunette with no small amount of satisfaction. “I wouldn’t worry about her trying to cry rape now. I’ll blare that over the school loudspeakers if I have to.”

Someone’s cock pressed against her anal ring, and she quickly tried to relax for him. She nearly choked on Jordan’s dick as the unseen boy shoved himself all the way in without warning, and then began fucking her ass with sharp, quick thrusts. “You want to hear something funny?” he asked the others. “Before we all found out what a freak this slut was, I actually had a crush on her. I almost asked her out a bunch of times, but she always seemed too out of my league, you know?”

The boy facefucking Sandy laughed. “Yeah, I remember. You used to jerk off to her picture almost every night, didn’t you?”

“Shut up!” said the one in Christine’s ass, but he was laughing too. “So what if I did? Now I’m getting to pound her up the ass with that same dick!” He started fucking her even harder. “And my next load ain’t gonna end up in a sock!” After a few minutes, he confirmed that by shooting off in her guts. As did the next boy. And the next. And the next.

Halfway through the period, Christine was sitting in a midair split, supported only by her ankles, which were duct taped to two desks standing apart. Her hands were taped too, held behind her back. Jordan had hidden the roll of tape in her own backpack so that she could pull it out herself, telling everyone that she’d brought it from home because “it makes my pussy gush so hard when I can’t even move while master’s big strong cock is pumping me.” Nadie had made sure to get a direct statement from Christine that it was entirely her own idea she be taped down like this, and that it was because she was “a needy bondage slut”.

There was two boy in front of her and behind, raping her cunt and ass. Christine was doing her best to roll her hips and moan for them, helping the illusion that this was a consensual gangbang. Certainly none of them seemed to be questioning it. Several more boys were lined up on both sides, waiting their own turns with her. Jordan was off to the side, alone with Sandy. The poor girl was sitting in his lap as she fucked him with her ass, his hands casually kneading her tits. He had his mouth by her ear, whispering things no one else could hear that made her whimper and flinch. But she wore a beaming grimace of a smile the entire time, and the little flickers of time Christine kept feeling told her that Jordan was making sure that fake smile never dropped.

Both boys finished inside Christine and were immediately replaced. “Aww, this is fucking gross,” complained the one in her ass. “She’s got so much cum in here I feel like I’m sticking it in a bowl of soup. About as loose as one too.”

Sandy promptly said, “I-I could c-c-clean her for you…” Jordan had just cum in her mere seconds ago, as if Christine needed more proof that he was coordinating everything. Sandy slid off his softening cock, gave it a quick kiss that made her shudder, and then crawled behind the taped up teen. Christine felt the dark haired girl’s tongue begin lapping at her ass, noisily slurping the cum out of her.

Her master rose up and walked over to her, resting a hand on her head. “Don’t forget what a hungry slut you are,” he told her, and then time flickered and he was back in his seat.

Christine knew what he wanted. “Please don’t steal my cum, Sandy,” she forced herself to say. “I worked hard for everyone’s yummy cock slime. Once you’re done, come… come feed it to me.” No one else was listening closely, but she heard Sandy gag at the order. Jordan was very good at convincing people to be obedient, though, and she made no protest, eating out Christine’s ass for another minute before standing and circling to her front. The two girls kissed, both trying to hide their revulsion. Christine pushed her tongue into Sandy’s mouth to scoop out the cum and whatever else was in there, swallowing it down for herself. Not wanting to anger Jordan by doing a poor job, she thoroughly licked Sandy’s tongue and the inside of her cheeks to ensure she’d gotten everything before breaking off the kiss.

The boy who’d complained about her ass slid back into it, and she made sure to clench him. “Much better,” he said happily. “A tight, clean butt!” He grabbed hold of her hips and began forcefully pounding her. “Time to mess it back up!” Meanwhile, Sandy was licking Christine’s pussy, collecting another mouthful to feed her. For the next twenty minutes and five loads, she sucked Christine out after each boy was done, returning for another disgusting cum swap kiss every time.

When there were only ten minutes left in the period, Jordan ordered a stop. “We need to clean up and get everything back in order before we leave, or the next people to come in here are going to have a lot of questions.” Many of the boys still hadn’t gotten to fuck her yet, and even the ones that had looked just as disappointed. Jordan grinned at them. “So why don’t we meet up tomorrow afterschool, spend the night helping my girl take the edge off? Would you like that, Christine?”

“I’d love it, master,” she said automatically, as everyone around her brightened. Five minutes later, the room had been straightened up, and the boys were lined up in front of her a final time as she knelt by the classroom door, licking all of them clean. Sandy was on all fours in the middle of the room, cleaning the floor by hunting down every trace of cum or whatever else her tongue found. Neither girl swallowed a drop, not until they’d both finished their tasks and exchanged a final slow, deep kiss to pass each other what they’d collected.

Once they were done licking each other’s mouths clean, Jordan slapped Sandy on the ass, making the dark haired girl squeak in alarm. “And we’ll be seeing you afterschool today, won’t we?” Her face went pale and she trembled, but she nodded before putting her clothes back on in a hurry and all but running out of the room. Everyone else followed her out, except for Nadine. The brunette lingered behind until it was just her, Jordan, and Christine, who was still naked and back to sucking Jordan’s cock. “So, Jordan…” she asked slowly. “I suppose I could be convinced not to show everyone what a slut your girlfriend is, if you made it worth my while…”

“How does ten thousand sound, Nadine?” Jordan asked calmly.

Her eyes went wide. “Ten th-… I mean, yeah, that, that works. If you can really get me something like that, sure, I’ll delete the video, I swear.”

“Oh no, I’m not talking about hiding the video,” Jordan clarified. “I’ll pay you ten thousand to post it at every porn site that will take it. I’ll throw in an extra five if you add her real name, address,and phone number in somewhere. And if you want to show up at the party tomorrow night to film that too, I’d be happy to make it worth your while.”

Nadine eyed Christine, in the middle of giving her master’s scrotum a tongue bath, and a little smile appeared on her face. “You really are a kinky little slut, aren’t you?” She glanced at Jordan. “Um, I don’t suppose she…”

“Licks pussy?” Jordan asked. “Like she was born for it. If you’re willing to skip your next class, I’m sure she’ll be happy to demonstrate. No one ever uses that old supply closet near Biology, and we’ve got some toys and bondage gear stashed in it too. If you’re willing to wait out in the hall for just a minute, Christine will show you the way.”

Nadine’s smile grew. “That sounds… perfect. What are her limits?”

“None,” Jordan said. “And if she says otherwise, let me know.”

“Oh, I will,” Nadine promised sweetly as she left the room. “Don’t make me wait too long, Chrissy. We have a lot of catching up to do, after all.”

Christine felt a growing anxiety as she finally stood up and got dressed. Jordan had just been bluffing about letting all of them rape her again tomorrow night. He had to be; they weren’t going to remember any of this. But why bother saying those things to Nadine, and giving an order to Sandy? “Aren't you... when are you going to rewind, master?” she asked, hearing the panic in her own voice.

Jordan smiled at her. “What, and ruin your porn debut? Deny you some quality time with an old friend? Don't be silly, slave. We’re keeping all this.”

“But, but, everyone will, they'll know I...” Christine squeaked.

“They will,” Jordan confirmed. “By this time tomorrow, I bet everyone in town will have seen what a good fucktoy you make.”

“I-I-I'll be expelled!” she protested, already in tears.

Jordan laughed. “No, you won't. The incident will be handed over to Mr Williams to evaluate. And after some very good blowjobs under his desk, and a couple overnight stays at his house spent helping him fulfill every sexual desire he's ever had, including a few that grossed even me out, he'll conclude that the whole thing was just teenage hormones run amok, and not worth ruining anyone's academic pursuits. Everyone involved will get a couple weeks of detention, which you'll spend on your knees. Those sessions will be kept private, at least for now.”

Christine stared at him, wide eyed. What he was saying wasn't speculation. “You... you already did this...”

“Yes, but last time that Sandy bitch gave me some trouble. Kept squawking to people about how she noticed you crying, and you must have been coerced somehow. Wasn't a big deal, but I found it irritating. But she won’t be a problem after we meet her afterschool today and take a trip downtown. Remember that pimp from a few weeks ago, the one I let whore you out a couple times so you could see how the professionals do it? He's going to love her. And once she's got herself a crack addiction and a new career path, I guarantee nobody will believe any crazy stuff she might ever decide to say about time travel.”

“But… but…”

“Is there a problem, slave?” Jordan asked coolly, his eyes flat and hard. Whenever he tortured her to death for some mistake or slight, it was those kinds of eyes she saw as she died.

“N-no, master!” she yelped. “Not… not at all…”

“Good.” His expression softened just slightly. “After you’re done eating out your friend, skip the rest of your classes too and go to the library. Use the time to set up a webpage of your own for hosting all your videos, and advertise it everywhere you can. If anyone asks you what you’re doing, tell them all about how excited you are to finally be getting into porn.”

“Yes, master,” Christine said, her head hanging low. Another relationship destroyed beyond repair, and another piece of her life and reputation defiled. Another unremarkable day.

Chapter Twenty Three

By the time Randall arrived home, everyone else in the house had already gone to bed. That was why he'd chosen to work late in the first place. He shucked off his coat and shoes, and glanced only once at the closed door of his bedroom, where Helen would be sleeping.

He checked the fridge for any leftovers from dinner, but there was nothing to be found except a pizza box in the trash. No surprise there; Helen had stopped bothering to cook most nights. There were still some microwave dinners in the freezer, and though the food tasted like warm garbage, he had bought plenty of beer on his way home to help wash it down.

As he ate, he wondered not for the first time how things had fallen so far. It seemed like only yesterday he'd had the perfect family. A loving wife and two amazing daughters. And then Christine had... started acting out, and he and Helen had been at a loss for what to do. They'd tried their best to raise their girls right, but suddenly it was like they didn't even know her anymore. And every conversation that they had about it seemed to end with a fight, both of them scared and stressed.

He was the one who'd suggested having Rebecca come stay for a while to help her recover from whatever was going on with her. He'd thought that if anyone could get through to Christine and find out what was wrong, it would be her older sister. That had turned out to be the worst decision of his life. And after the accident, Christine's behavior suddenly became drastically worse, and Helen had blamed him for everything, and every time he saw Rebecca he wanted to break down and cry, and he was just tired. He was just so goddamned tired.

It took him ten minutes to finish his dinner, and another fifty before he was done drinking. He staggered into the living room, gave the bedroom door another glance, then took off his clothes and sank onto the couch that had been his bed for the last month. Sleep came almost immediately.

Randall didn't recognize the pleasant sensation at first. It was just a warm tingling in his lower body that was strong enough to slowly rouse him. For several minutes, he just enjoyed the feeling, still more than half asleep, before his brain managed to process what was happening. Managed to identify the hot, wet sensation centered around his crotch.

His eyes fluttered open, and he made out the lump of someone's head beneath the blanket, bobbing slightly as she sucked on his cock. He couldn't even remember the last time Helen had given him a blowjob, but he certainly wasn't about to complain. He slid his hands underneath the blanket and stroked his wife's hair as she worked. She tensed slightly at the contact, but her lips and tongue continued gently pleasuring him.

It was amazing how much better he suddenly felt. He had been beginning to fear that his marriage was irrevocably broken, and Helen would never want anything to do with him again. Everything had seemed hopeless. But this, that she would do this for him... it wasn't the sexual nature of the act, though he'd be lying if he said he'd ever received a better blowjob in his life. His wife's mouth was hot and hungry. and he couldn't help moaning as her tongue ran over his shaft But what really mattered was what the act symbolized. She was willing to give him a chance. She still wanted this marriage of theirs to work, and so did he.

“I love you,” he whispered as Helen almost literally sucked his load right out of him. She'd never swallowed before, but she did this time, and the quiet gulping noises that she made went straight to some animal part of his brain and caused his cock to stir even as it became soft. Even during the best years of their marriage, sex more than twice a week had been rare. Twice in one night was unheard of. But he couldn’t deny his stiffness, or her wordless sounds of pleasure as he grew thick in her mouth once again. This time he took the lead, gently bouncing her head up and down in time with the movement of his pelvis. Again she surprised him, this time by pushing even lower, encouraging him to smack the head of his cock against the back of her mouth every time he thrust into her.

The two of them had never tried deepthroat before, but Helen was insistent. The first time his cock popped into her throat, he nearly came then and there from the sudden tight band around him, but she quickly pulled back, teasing his twitching cock with only her tongue for several minutes. When she pulled him into her again, she did it much more slowly, letting her loosened throat gradually swallow him a millimeter at a time. Soon he was completely inside her, his dick enveloped in a warm vise not quite like anything he’d ever experienced. Her task accomplished, she relaxed and let him take full control again. He slid his entire shaft in and out of her throat, marveling at the new and wonderful sensation of it. He was slow and careful at first, worried about hurting her, but her soft loving purrs encouraged him to keep going stronger and faster, and soon he was eagerly fucking her throat in long, powerful strokes.

As his orgasm approached, he pulled back and let himself pop out of her throat, not wanting to push things too far by just assuming that she wanted to swallow a second time. But Helen knew what she wanted, and she greedily swallowed him back up as he began to spurt, making him cum right down her throat. It wasn’t until his load was nearly spent that she pulled back to catch the remnants on her tongue, making a happy little sound that was almost enough to bring on a third round.

“I love you,” Randall whispered again as he stroked her head. “I love you so much, Helen. And that…” He gave a small laugh. “That was incredible! How did you know how… to…” His voice trailed off as his lover’s head emerged from beneath the blankets, and he saw for the first time who had been sucking on him.

“Mmm,” Christine purred, and licked her lips, where some of his sperm still glistened. “You have such great thick loads, Dad. It must have been ages since Mom last drained your balls. It’s a good thing you have me around.”

Randall let out a small strangled scream and tumbled out of the couch. He scrambled backwards on his hands and feet, desperate to put some space between him and his completely naked daughter. “What-what-what are you doing?!” he stammered.

Christine held a finger to her lips. “Shh, don’t want to wake Mom up, remember?” She winked. “You just seemed soooooo lonely down here, and I was soooooo horny up there, and I figured we could kill two birds with one stone. Although…” She put a hand between her legs and let out a little whimpering sound of pleasure as she fingered herself. “I’m feeling hornier than ever right now. Are you sure you don’t have another load in there for your daughter’s poor needy cunt?”

“You can’t…” Randall swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. “You can’t do things like this, Christine! And I, if I’d known you were, that you, I would never have.. I would never!”

“But that’s no fun at all,” Christine said with a mock pout. “You have a thick cock and I have a wet pussy.” She spread her legs to demonstrate the latter, letting him hear the sounds her fingers made as they pumped in and out of her drooling slit. “Why does we have to make this more complicated than that? Mom never has to find out.” She giggled. “Unless you think we could convince her to try a threesome. That could be fun too…”

“What… what is wrong with you?” Randall asked hopelessly. He didn’t recognize this woman at all. She bore no resemblance to the sweet, innocent Christine that he’d raised for eighteen years. What the hell had happened to her?

“Wrong?” she asked sweetly. “Nothing, Dad. I just want to make you feel good.” She stroked her neck sensually with the back of her hand. “And you loved being in my tight throat, didn’t you? I can fuck you like that whenever you want. I can spend all night with my head between your legs if you just ask. And if you think that’s good, wait until you try your daughter’s hot teenage cunt.” She stopped playing with herself so she could spread her slit open instead, showing him the pink flesh inside her. “I can make you cum harder than Mom ever has, and you don’t have to marry me or tell me you love me or even buy me dinner. I’ll never be a frigid bitch who makes you sleep on the couch. Anytime you want me, all you have to do is push me down and take me. I’ll even fight you if you like, let you force my thrashing legs apart and slam your hard cock into me while I howl and cry, if that’s what you’re into.”

Her eyes twinkled. “Or would you rather try a different hole?” She turned around and pushed her ass out towards him, wiggling it from side to side. “I bet Mom has never let you take her back here, has she? It’s just as warm and tight and perfect as you’ve always imagined, and I know just how to use it. Think of how good you’ll feel when you’re riding me, your cock buried in my guts and my soft tits in your hands, and I’m squeezing you so hard you think you’re going to pop… all you have to do is say yes, and I’ll give you more pleasure in a single night than Mom has given you in her entire life.”

This was a nightmare. It had to be. And the worst part, the thing that made bile rise up in his mouth and threaten to come spilling out at any moment, was that a part of him was actually considering what she was saying. He and Helen were effectively done, even if nothing was official yet. And Christine was a consenting adult, and a beautiful woman who had just given him the best sex of his life, and she was wanting and wet and eager and… “No,” he said hoarsely. “No, no, no! I won’t do it!”

“Please!” his daughter begged, and there was an edge of desperation to her now. “Please, Dad, I’ll make it so good for you, I swear! Anything you want! Everything you want!”

“Mind your manners, slave,” came a voice from the side. "Didn't anyone ever teach you that no means no?" Randall’s head snapped in its direction to find Christine’s boyfriend over by the wall, casually watching the two of them. Had he been there the entire time?!

“But this was a good try,” Jordan continued as he pulled himself away from the wall and walked over to Christine. “Did you see how close he came to saying yes? You were so certain it would be impossible when we started, but look at how far we’ve come after just twenty four tries! Another five or ten and you’ll finally convince Daddy to fuck you. Think of how much happier he’s going to be when he decides he likes you better as a horny slut than as his little girl.”

Randall had no idea what the boy was talking about, but he didn’t like it. He didn’t like the way the kid was looking at him, and he especially didn’t like the way he looked at his daughter. There was no love in his gaze, just ownership. And Christine normally seemed so happy around her boyfriend, but right now she just looked terrified. He thought back to the incident months ago, when she’d accused Jordan of raping her. The police had been so confident that she’d made the whole thing up, and she’d confessed to it just a few days later, but… as he stared at the boy, he felt his heart break. His Christine hadn’t been lying. He and Helen had been fools.

“You… you need to leave,” he said, trying to speak with authority and gain some control over the situation. “Right now, before I call your parents or the police. And I don’t want you near my daughter ever again, do you understand me? Never again.”

Jordan smiled at him. “Oh, I’ll leave soon enough, Mr. Summers. Just as soon as your daughter gets it right, and convinces you to start treating her like a teenage fleshlight from now on.”

Randall forced himself to his feet. “What did you just call my daughter?” he growled.

The boy’s smile widened. “I called her a fleshlight, Mr. Summers. A stupid fucktoy. A dumb, worthless cunt that I pack full of cum, feed piss and shit to, and beat to a pulp every so often just to enjoy her screams.”

Randall still didn’t know what Jordan’s deal was, and he couldn’t care less. “No one speaks about my Christine like that,” he said, balling his fists. The kid might be twenty years younger than him, but he was also a scrawny little brat. Maybe breaking his arms would teach him a lesson about treating women with respect.

“You really hate when I call her names, don’t you?” Jordan said, unperturbed. “I’m going to have to remember that. The thing is, Randall, my personal cum dump doesn’t deserve to have anyone in her life who doesn’t hate her, fuck her, or both. Getting her mom to hate her, that was easy. Pathetically easy. So I thought you’d be a good challenge. And you are, for now. But this night doesn’t end until that changes.” He tousled Christine’s hair. “Ready to go, sperm sucker?”

The way he was touching her, the casual possessiveness of it, felt even worse than the insults somehow. Randall started forward, intending to rip Jordan apart with his bare hands, but the look in Christine’s eyes brought him up short. It was an expression of such abject despair that he felt tears come to his own eyes. “I’m sorry, Dad,” Christine said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m so sorry…”

“Sorry?” Jordan asked. Christine cried out softly as he tugged her hair, pulling her head back to look up at him. “Don’t be stupid, daddy fucker. He should be thanking you!” He gave Randall a wink that made the man’s blood boil. “Seriously, Mr. Summers, you’re welcome. You’re going to love your new fucktoy.”

**********

“Oh Jordan, is that a new car?” Christine’s mother preened. She was standing by the window in their living room, looking out at the red sports car in their driveway. “It’s amazing.”

Jordan shrugged. He was sitting on the couch with Christine, his arm slung over her shoulders. “You like it? You guys can have it if you want. I decided I’d rather get one in blue, and it’s easier to just buy another than try to return this one.”

Her eyes widened. “You mean it? We… we can really have the car?”

Jordan gave her a boyish grin. “Of course, Mrs Summers! You guys are already like family to me, right? I paid in full and the deed’s in the glove compartment.” He pulled a car key out of his pocket and tossed it to her. “Have fun with it.”

Christine’s mother missed the catch, and scrambled with some panic to pick it up off the floor, as though worried he’d change his mind if she was too slow. “Thank you,” she said quickly. “And, and yes!” She smiled at him. “We think of you as part of the family too.”

It was enough to make Christine sick.

Jordan had told them about his newfound wealth just a couple weeks after everything with Rebecca. “I started doing a little day trading as a hobby,” he’d said, wearing a shit-eating grin that had made Christine’s skin crawl. “And it turns out I’m kind of a genius at it. Who knew?” Under normal circumstances, her parents would have been against Christine having anything to do with her “boyfriend”. He didn't show up in the amateur pornography she now frequently skipped school to create; those featured only her and a variety of toys and bondage gear, though Rebecca was usually just off screen, ready to punish her for not doing a good enough job. But her first and most popular porn video, where she called him master while having sex with multiple students, had gone viral in their little town. She was pretty sure that everyone she knew had seen it at least once, including her Mom and Dad. They had to know by now that her relationship with him wasn’t normal, and even if they didn’t know he was the source of all her unusual behavior, it wasn’t hard to see that he was at least encouraging it. But Jordan was rich now, and generous with his money, especially with Mom. She could almost see the dollar signs in the woman’s eyes every time she look at him. And Dad was… preoccupied.

“I cooked a roast for our dinner tonight,” Mom told him. “Oh, but if you’d rather have something else,” she hastened to add, “you just say so! I’m happy to cook anything you want, Jordan.”

“Thanks, Mrs Summers,” he replied. “A roast sounds delicious. Don’t you agree, Christine?”

“Y-yes, Jordan,” Christine said. “It sounds great.” She didn’t miss the annoyed look her mother gave her at her unenthusiastic response.

These Friday night dinners with Jordan had become a regular occurrence. It was an opportunity for him to flaunt his money around her parents, enjoy her mother’s flattery, and have fun playing the role of boyfriend. Christine hated these nights, but at least she was usually allowed to eat dinner when it happened. Usually.

“Chrissy, can I see you for a minute?” her father called out from his study. “I need your help with the computer again.”

“I, I’m with Jordan right now, Dad!” she called back nervously.

Jordan nudged her with his shoulder and smiled at her. “Don’t worry about me. Go help him out.” He winked at her. “I’ll still be here when you get back.”

Christine knew better than to argue. Suppressing a sigh, she got up from the couch and walked down the hall to her father’s study, praying that he really did have a computer problem. Behind her, she heard her mother start complimenting Jordan’s clothing.

“Hi, Dad,” she said, opening the door to the study, and stopped. Her father was sitting at his desk with no pants on, stroking his cock as it pointed up at the ceiling. On the computer monitor, a smiling Christine was laying in bed working her asshole over with a butt plug, her other hand playing with her clit, while her ankles were cuffed to her headboard above her. She'd filmed that one two weeks ago. In a minute she wouldpush the dildo out of herself using only her ass muscles, cum while running her tongue over it (Rebecca had punished her after the first take for trying get away with a fake orgasm), and then shove it back in and start over. It was only a seven minute video, but it had taken an entire day of filming before Rebecca was satisfied with her performance.

Christine carefully closed the door behind her. "I’m sorry, Chrissy,” her dad said, not sounding particularly sorry at all. “I was watching some of your videos, and I just got so hard it hurt. You’ll help me out, right?”

“Of course,” she said, switching on the wide beaming smile that Jordan liked to call her “slut face”. “I’m Daddy’s fleshlight, after all.” She dropped to her knees and crawled to him to start sucking, but he casually slapped her face away.

“I think I’d rather use my fucktoy’s pussy this time,” he told her. “And make it quick, before your Mom gets suspicious.”

“Whatever you want, Daddy.” She stood up and removed her pants and underwear before lowering herself onto his lap, facing him as she sank onto his cock. He put his arms around her, and she let him kiss her and paw at her ass while she began to ride him. He wasn’t rough with her like Jordan, and if he had been anyone else she might have even been able to enjoy the experience. But he wasn’t someone else. He was her own father, and that meant despite all the little shivers and coos of pleasure she made to make it seem like she was having the time of her life, all she felt inside was disgust and despair.

Dad had been Jordan’s pet project last month. It had taken her nearly a hundred tries that first night to convince him to have sex with her. On the final attempt, she’d teased him for hours with her mouth. By the time she’d revealed herself, he was practically shaking with lust, and her eager fuckbunny routine had overcome his reluctance. Christine’s father had fucked her hard on the couch, while she’d kept quiet to keep from waking her mother up. She’d never felt more ashamed.

That had only been the beginning of the project. He’d woken up guilty and hungover, and it had taken dozens of tries to convince him that he hadn’t made a terrible mistake, he shouldn’t go tell his wife everything, and that Christine had no regrets about what had happened. It had taken many more tries to get him to fuck her again that night, but not as many as the first, and even fewer the night after. The worst part was that sexual desire was only one of the reasons he was going along with it; the other was that he genuinely thought he was making her happy. Even now, as he buried his tongue in her mouth and bounced her on his lap, Christine knew that he loved her. Whenever she let slip that she wasn’t really enjoying herself, he would immediately stop what he was doing, and it would usually take a reset from Jordan (after she’d been punished for her lapse) to fix her mistake.

Once she’d gotten Dad to be okay with having sex with his daughter, Jordan had her move on to encouraging him to use her whenever he wanted, and letting him believe that she got off on being treated like a sex toy. At one point she had to get him to promise that he’d never masturbate when she was around to be fucked instead. At another, she made him believe that nothing got her turned on more than being called degrading names like fucktoy and fleshlight. From there, it took barely any effort to get him to think that she enjoyed being given orders and slapped around. The first time she’d begged him to tie her down and fuck her ass, he’d been incredibly nervous and awkward about it, but after she’d screamed out a fake orgasm, cleaned him with her mouth, and thanked him for being so wonderful and understanding of her special needs, bondage and anal had both become regular occurrences in their incest.

Her father groaned, and Christine fought to keep the smile on her face and not betray her nausea as he finished inside her. Once he was done, she slid off of him and onto her knees, then took him into her mouth. “And you’re… you’re sure that Jordan is okay with this?” he asked, slightly out of breath, as she dutifully sucked the remaining cum out of his cock. “With you… with you and me…?”

“Mmm hmm,” Christine said, moving her attention and tongue to his nutsack. She could feel his sperm beginning to ooze out of her and down her leg. She’d need to stop in the bathroom on her way back and clean it off before Mom noticed. “Master understands what a hopeless slut I am.”

“I don’t like the way he looks at you sometimes,” her father told her. “Just because you’re… whatever kind of relationship you two choose to have with each other, that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve love and respect. I don’t care how much money he’s got. He ever treats you badly, you just let me know, and I’ll make sure he never bothers you again.”

“Thank you Daddy,” Christine said, feeling real gratitude. Dad couldn’t help her, no more than anyone could, but it was nice to be reminded that he did care about her. Jordan hadn’t taken that away from her. Yet. “But I belong with master. He’s… he’s my everything.”

He leaned down and gently kissed her forehead. “I love you, my sexy cum dump.”

She forced herself not to flinch. “I love you too, Daddy. I-I had better get back out there.” Christine stood up, put her clothing back on, and left as quickly as she could without arousing her father’s suspicion.

She wiped herself off in the bathroom and sat on the toilet to push the rest of his cum out. What she really wanted was to just sit there the rest of the night and cry, but even something as pathetic as that was a luxury she didn’t get to have anymore. Jordan had probably already checked on her more than once without her knowing while she was in the study. If he found her in here and thought she was trying to avoid him, he wouldn’t be happy. At the very least, he’d probably rewind time to make her fuck her father again.

She was washing up at the sink when someone knocked on the door. “Are you in there, Christine?” Mom asked. When she confirmed that she was, and that she was decent, her mother opened the door and came in. “What do you think you’re doing?” she hissed.

“What, I-I don’t, I wasn’t…” Christine stammered. Had Mom finally noticed what was going on? Jordan had promised that if Christine couldn’t keep her new role as her father’s fucktoy a secret from her mother, he wouldn’t reset things to make her forget. The only reason he hadn’t already made her tell Mom everything was because he thought it was more fun to let the woman discover the truth for herself.

“First you barely pay Jordan any attention while he’s here, and then you go disappear for God knows how long!” Her mother grabbed her arm. “You listen to me, young lady. I don’t know what that boy sees in you, but you should thank your lucky stars that he does. You be good to him, understand?”

“Y-yes Mom…” Christin mumbled, unable to meet her mother’s eyes.

Mom gripped her arm harder, hard enough that her nails dug painfully into her daughter’s skin. “Do you know how hard it is to be your mother?” she asked. “The kind of looks I get, the things I hear people whisper… I don’t get to be Helen Summers anymore. I’m just Christine Summers’ mother, the woman whose daughter sleeps with strangers and films pornography in her own bedroom.”

Christine wanted to scream at her mother. Her life was hard? Jordan was destroying everything she’d ever loved, just for fun, and turning her into this… this disgusting animal that wasn’t good for anything but being fucked and beaten and used as a toilet. She didn’t even feel like a human being most days, and the only thing keeping her from slashing her wrists was the knowledge that he would just rewind that too.

But she couldn’t say any of that. She could only hang her head and follow orders. “I’m sorry your daughter is such a horny slut,” she forced herself to say.

Her mother was looking at her with open disdain. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. I don’t know what is wrong with you, Christine, I really don’t, and I don’t care anymore. But that boy waiting for you out there? He’s the one good thing you’ve got left, and I’m not going to let you fuck that up like you do everything else. You’re going to go out there, and smile, and be a good girlfriend, because the truth, Christine, is that you’re not going to find anyone better than him. No one else is going to want…” She made a sweeping gesture that managed to incorporate all of Christine. “This. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mom,” Christine whispered.

Rebecca, naked as always, was curled up beneath the dining room table when they gathered to eat, her fingers busy in her slit. She perked up at their arrival, and the tail between her legs wagged happily. “Dinner time? Is it dinner time?!”

“Yes, Becky,” Mom said awkwardly, averting her eyes from the sight. “I-it’s dinner time…” Rebecca barked happily at the confirmation.

Her parents had tried to correct Rebecca’s behavior for a while. They’d sent her to no less than five different therapists, all of them highly regarded. The last one was supposed to be one of the very best in the world at trauma recovery. It had taken a favor from Jordan and a six hour flight just to get an appointment with him. All five had independently reached an identical conclusion: all of Rebecca’s unusual behaviors were her mind’s way of coping and healing. The best way to help her was to go along with her and encourage what she was doing, no matter how strange or embarrassing or obscene it might seem to be. All five therapists stressed how unhealthy and outright dangerous it would be to try and interfere.

None of the five had needed more than a few days alone with Jordan to be persuaded into their diagnosis. One of them had tried to secretly call the Summers family about a week later; she’d instead gone missing. Jordan had just smiled when Christine asked what he’d done to the woman.

So now Rebecca wore a collar on her neck and a set of dog ears on her head and a tail attached to a butt plug. The plug was actually the “sister fucker” dildo, and her sister took great pleasure removing it when they were alone and stuffing it down Christine’s throat, its second home. The truly awful part, from Christine’s perspective, was that Jordan hadn’t even asked for all of the things her sister now did. The ears and the barking had been Rebecca’s own ideas, eager to better play the part of Jordan’s dog.

There were only four places set at the table, and their mother only prepared four plates of food. Rebecca had been adamant about not sitting and eating with them anymore. It was now accepted to just hand feed her scraps from their own plates while they ate, though their parents still hadn’t gotten used to it.

Jordan sniffed his plate. “Mmm, this smells delicious, Mrs. Summers!” Their mother preened at the compliment, happy for something to take her mind off of her daughter. “Oh, but before we dig in, do you mind if I show you guys a little magic trick?”

Dad grimaced, but Mom smiled at him. “Of course, Jordan! Please, go ahead!”

There was a ripple of time as Jordan vanished and reappeared behind Christine’s father, still holding his steak knife in his hand. “Sorry, daughter fucker,” he said cheerfully as he drew the blade across the man’s throat. “This will be easier without having to worry about you.” Christine watched in horror as blood spilled down her father’s neck as he slid off of his chair and onto the floor with a wet gurgle.

Jordan didn’t bother watching him die as he grabbed Christine’s screaming mother by the hair and dragged her back to the couch in the living room. Halfway there her clothing vanished, reduced to a pile of torn rags on the floor. “See, your daughters are both so fuckable,” he told her mother as she kept screaming and trying to twist away from him. Rope appeared around her ankles, binding them to the couch legs. “So I thought, if it’s genetic, why not see if you’re as good?” He pushed her over the arm of the couch, his own clothes now gone too, and rammed his stiff dick straight into her asshole.

Christine’s mother cried out in agony as Jordan began raping her ass. Christine watched, too horrified to even move, as Jordan used her hair as reins to help ride her hard. “Yes, that’s what I thought, Mrs Summers!” he said excitedly as his hips slapped against her backside. “You have a nice tight asshole too! Your husband would’ve enjoyed this backdoor almost as much as he enjoys your daughter’s! We’re going to have to do this a lot from now on.” He glanced over at Christine. “Come over here and help hold your mom down while I buttfuck her, slave.”

Christine cringed at his words, but a scowl from him was all it took to overcome her paralysis and send her crawling over. She got on the couch and took hold of her mom's arms, keeping her from rising up. Her mother stared at her, terrified and confused. “Why?!” she moaned, struggling against her daughter. “Why... why are you...?!”

“Please,” Christine begged Jordan. “You already have me and Becky, and I’ll do whatever you want. Can’t you leave my mom alone? And, and Dad…”

He laughed. “This is me leaving her alone, slave. I’ll always put her back together when I’m done. She’ll never have to know how many times her daughter’s rich, generous boyfriend rapes her. Unless you give me any trouble, that is. You ever start thinking of disobeying me, and maybe next time I’ll let them remember what happens. Or hell, I could just leave them both like this. Your dad’s body would be no trouble to dispose of, and your mom looks even easier to break than your sister. Would you like to be part of a slave trio, Christine?”

“No,” she whispered. “Please, I'll do whatever you want.”

“I know. Now, if you really want to help out your mom, you’d better start stepping up your game as a fucktoy. No more passively waiting for when I want to fuck you; I want to see you being proactive from now on. Every load you convince me to shoot into you will be one less for her.”

Christine felt sick to her stomach, because she knew his words were completely sincere. He would expect her to beg him to fuck her from now on, and punish her mother for it when she wasn’t good enough. A dark part of her whispered that this was just fine; Mom deserved a taste of what Christine’s life was really like. But the small twinges of satisfaction she might have gotten out of this were drowned out by grief. She didn’t want to hate her mother. She didn’t want to feel good about the idea of her suffering. She just missed her family. “Yes, master,” she said quietly. “I will do my best to prove I deserve your wonderful sperm more than Mommy does.”

“See that, Mrs.Summers?” asked Jordan cheerfully. “Look what a good slave I've turned your daughter into. Your other one too. Bitch! Get over here and lick my asshole while I do this.”

Rebecca crawled into the room, a rare look of uncertainty on her face. “Does… does Mommy deserve to be punished, Master Jordan…?” she asked.

“Of course!” Jordan answered easily. “Where do you think Christine learned all her bad behaviors from?” That seemed to be enough for Rebecca. Her uncertainty vanished, and she eagerly buried her face between his ass cheeks. “Yes, that’s a good dog. Shove your arm up her cunt while you’re at it. Your hole’s far from virgin, Mrs. Summers, but I bet it’s never had one of those in it, has it?”

Mom was sobbing, the couch cushion already soaked with her tears and snot. “Help me,” she pleaded, looking right at Christine. “Chrissy, please... help! He's hurting me...! Why aren't you helping?!” Christine looked away, hot tears of shame on her own cheeks, still pressing her mother against the couch to help Jordan violate her. She heard her mother start screaming again, and knew without looking that it was because Rebecca had begun working her fist into her pussy. She was all too familiar with how painful it must be.

“I think I’ve heard enough of that for now,” Jordan said. “Slave, shut her up with your twat.”

Christine had heard him give Rebecca similar orders often enough to know exactly what he wanted. She shifted position until she was sitting sideways on the couch, pinning her mother’s arms down with her weight. Her legs were spread on either side of the woman, with her head between them. Jordan let go of Mom’s hair so that Christine could grab it instead, shoving her mother’s face into her pussy and muffling her cries. She could still see her eyes, though, wide and panicked and begging. Mom stared up at Christine with raw desperation, and looking away did nothing to ease the stabbing pain of that gaze.

“You know, growing up I always did think your mom was hot,” Jordan told her. “Never thought anything would happen, of course. But now here I am, reaming her out, and it’s all thanks to you! Reward yourself with an orgasm, slave, straight from Mommy’s mouth to your cunt. And make it fast too: I’m almost ready to nut in her ass, and I want you to cum before that happens.”

Christine didn’t waste time arguing. Mom wasn’t licking her at all, of course, and Christine was in no state to force her, so she didn’t bother trying. Instead she settled for slapping her mother’s mouth with her pussy, trying to focus on how good the woman’s howls of pain felt. Despite her deliberate efforts to get aroused, it still felt awful when she began to get wet. She wasn’t even a lesbian, and here she was raping another woman, and it was her mother. Only a disgusting, wretched freak could get pleasure from doing something like this. She was no better than garbage.

“I did it, Master Jordan!” Rebecca said happily, her face still between his cheeks. “Your bitch got her whooooole hand in! Would you like Mommy’s cunt to be your bitch’s new punching bag?”

“Only if you think she deserves it,” Jordan said lightly. A moment later Mom’s screams doubled in intensity and she began to thrash mindlessly in place.

For about ten minutes, the Summers sisters raped their mother between them while their master enjoyed her asshole. As soon as Christine began trembling in the throes of an orgasm, time stuttered and Jordan slammed himself into her mother’s ass a final time. Both of them began cumming at the same time from the screaming, squirming woman between them. “I take back what I said before,” Jordan told her. “Your asshole is just as good as your daughter’s, Mrs. Summers! We’ll have to do this again soon. Maybe tonight after you go to sleep? We can spend the night getting frisky in bed, enjoy your virgin butt again, and Rebecca and Christine can show you some of the tricks they’ve learned. Yes, that sounds like a good time.”

He pulled out of Christine’s mother, letting blood and cum run out of the gaping hole left behind. “Well done, Bitch,” he told Rebecca, who was still furiously fisting her. “Have a treat.” Rebecca immediately moved to lap up the fluids running down the woman’s legs, then planted her lips on her asshole and began noisily sucking out the cum still inside, a look of bliss on her face and her arm still buried in her mother. Jordan gave the woman’s ass a hard slap that made her squeal softly into Christine’s pussy. “Keep this hole warm for me, Mrs. Summers. I’ll be coming back for it in just a few hours.” Then he touched Christine and Rebecca, and the whole world flickered around them.

Christine found herself back at the dining room table, Jordan next to her and her parents across. She hid a flinch as he reached a hand towards her, but he only put his fingers behind her head. One flicker of time later and he pulled his hand back, a playing card now held between his index and middle fingers. “Ta daa~!” he announced cheerfully.

Her mother beamed and clapped at the magic trick.

Chapter Twenty Four

Jordan made it a point to check in on Christine about every ten minutes or so. It wouldn’t be proper to leave his prom date on her own for too long, after all.

The year end dance was taking place in the gym, and despite some lights and banners, it still just felt like being in the gym. There were people dancing and people sitting, and a table with some bottles of sodas and open bags of chips that were supposed to be the refreshments. All in all, it was rather disappointing, and Jordan couldn’t fathom why he’d ever thought of senior prom as being such a big deal. It all seemed so childish now.

The boys outnumbered the girls in the room by nearly four to one. That was because while only the girls with dates had gone to the prom, almost every boy in their graduating class of four hundred was in attendance. The dance organizers hadn’t expected so many people, and the gym was getting fairly crowded. It was an especially warm June, and the school’s meager air conditioning couldn’t keep up with such a concentrated mass of people, leaving even those who weren’t on the dance floor feeling hot and sweaty.

Christine was the reason they were all there, of course. She’d been skipping school and staying up late for days now to get the invitations done. It had taken her hundreds of hours of effort, but every single male hetero- and bisexual male senior had received a personalized letter from her about the prom. She hadn’t known everyone that well at first, so she’d spent a few months in April familiarizing herself with everyone. Everyone and their cocks. She’d fucked her way through the entire class, though almost none of them remembered it. Some of them had needed more convincing than others, but every last jock and band nerd and hipster had taken his slave for a ride.

Pretty much all of the invitations followed the same theme: a heartfelt plea to come to prom for her sake, a description of where she would be and what she’d be doing, and a request to keep the invitation a secret. Some of them ignored that last one, and a couple even went to the teachers, but nothing much came of it. Christine was already fucking most of her teachers in exchange for a passing grade, and a few more just because he’d ordered her to. The only actual consequence of telling them was that the prom ended up with several times the number of volunteer chaperones as usual.

The bathroom was on roughly the opposite side of the school from the gym, far from the overworked AC. An official looking “out of order” sign hung from the entrance. Jordan had gotten it from one of the janitors. The man’s price had been an hour of sitting on Christine’s face so she could eat his ass while he fucked her tits. Jordan had generously given him three hours.

Inside, the bathroom reeked of cum despite the numerous empty bottles of Febreze by the sinks. It was also wretchedly hot, and perspiration was dripping down Jordan’s forehead within seconds of entering. Along the wall were three toilet stalls in a row. The left and right stalls hung open, but the middle was closed and had a padlock to keep it shut. A handwritten sign was taped to it, with a glossy photo of Christine’s smiling face on top, and words below:

CUM AND ENJOY YOUR OFFICIAL PROM FUCKTOY

<— MY HEAD MY CROTCH —>

ONE KNOCK FOR BREED, TWO FOR REAM

There were three guys waiting to use the left stall. The student already in it had his dick stuck through a small hole in the wall, and his eyes were closed in ecstasy. Jordan could tell without looking that the boy was enjoying his slave’s superb throatfucking techniques. His hands were up against the wall to steady himself, and he was smacking his crotch against the opening at a quick pace. There were two tallies written on the same wall: “SUCKED COCK” and “GUZZLED PISS”. Jordan was pleased to see that the second number was nearly as high as the first.

The right stall had five people in line, including Christine’s history teacher, and was in far worse condition, with a long and sticky stream of cum beneath the gloryhole. Even as he watched, the student with his cock in there let out a long and satisfied moan as he came in Christine, his cum overflowing from her hole and spurting back out around him to join the other couple dozen loads dribbling down the wall. When he was done, he picked up the marker tied to the toilet bowl and notched a tally for BRED.

Jordan caught a glimpse of a Christine’s swollen, cum drooling pussy through the little hole as the boy left, but the next person to enter knocked on the wall twice. Christine shifted and her gaping asshole pressed itself against the hole instead, and was quickly stuffed. That would be another tally for REAMED in a few minutes.

Next, Jordan checked on the fucktoy herself. He stilled time beforehand, and pulled the key from his pocket to unlock the middle stall. Christine was in the same uncomfortable looking position she’d been in for the last two hours. She was lying face up across the toilet bowl, held there by ropes he’d wrapped around the base. Her upturned mouth was pressed against the first hole, frozen in the act of sucking. On the other side, she’d had to lift her legs up and back in order to fit, her crotch squashed against the second hole. The oral stall may have been cleaner than than the other one, but looking at her made it easy to see that it was just as popular: Christine’s stomach bulged with what some quick mental math told him was probably about a gallon and a half worth of piss and cum. Her entire body glistened with sweat, and her hair was dark and limp.

A pair of handcuffs kept her hands chained to the toilet. Another went around her ankles with its chain running under her neck to stop her from putting her legs down. Like the ropes around her torso, they weren’t really necessary, but he’d felt nostalgic for the old days of teaching her to suck cock. Jordan had wanted the prom to be a feast for all her senses, so he’d gotten her a couple special gifts to enhance her situation. The first was a compact VR headset covering her eyes. She was immersed in something of a highlight reel: all the best moments from those first videos during her suspension, her recent porn videos, and everything they’d recorded in between. Curious to see which one she was watching at the moment, he removed the headset, taking a moment to admire her sunken and hopeless eyes. In the frozen image, Christine was wrapped up in tinsel and masturbating with a handful of candy canes. That had been a good Christmas Eve.

The second gift was the audio playlist he’d created for her. Earbuds were in her ears, taped in place, and connected to her phone that was taped to her back. Some of the tracks were just streams of insults recorded by Rebecca, who was more than happy for the chance to tell her sister what a worthless whore she was. Interspersed among those were unspoken clips: nails on chalkboard, people throwing up, etcetera. Right now she’d been listening to the track he’d titled “Puppy Love”, which was audio recorded from some of her sessions with Bailey. It was five minutes of her own voice whimpering and sobbing through multiple unwilling orgasms, while the German Shepherd panted and chuffed happily in the background.

Jordan put her headset back on, and closed and locked the stall door, but he didn’t release time just yet. He left the bathroom and headed back to the gym, noting that there were several boys on the dance floor with their dates who were eying the hallway he’d come out of, waiting for a chance to enter without drawing any suspicion. They’d show up in drips and drabs, but the bathroom was never completely empty. Christine had spent the entire last two hours stuffed from both ends, and the second half of the prom looked like it would be no different.

His destination was the “real” set of bathrooms situated much closer to the gym. The girls’ bathroom was even more popular than Christine’s little party, and outside it was a line of frozen girls outside waiting their turn to enter. He ignored the ones fixing their makeup using the bathroom mirror, his attention focused on the stalls. Their doors and walls went all the way down to the floor for privacy, so he couldn’t just duck his head under them to see who was in there, but the sinks were close enough that he could stand on the counter and look over the top. He was delighted to see a familiar face in one of them, and clambered over the stall door to join her.

By the time he let the universe resume its normal operation, Nadine’s blue dress had already been shredded, and pieces of it used to thoroughly gag her. The longest piece had been knotted around her neck to create a makeshift collar. She’d been sitting on the toilet, doing her business, and let out a quiet squawk of surprise at his sudden entrance. Before she had time to really react, he forced her arms behind her back and stilled time to bind them in place. After literal years of tying up one Summers woman or another, he could have tied Nadine up in his sleep.

When he released time again, she immediately began squirming and screaming through her gag, neither action accomplishing much. Her voice died when he showed her the knife, though, and she froze in place. “The two of us are just going to have a little bit of fun,” he told her softly. “No need to get anyone else involved. If you draw any attention…” She shivered violently as he slid the flat of the knife over her throat, just beneath the scrap of fabric wrapped around it. “Can you be a good girl for me?” She nodded quickly, her eyes darting wildly as she tried to keep them on the blade. “And if I take out the gag you’ll be quiet as a mouse?” Another nod. “Good.”

As soon as he ungagged her, she began begging, but she only got as far as “please, don’t-” before he cut into her with the knife. Not a long or deep cut, just a tiny little nick above her shoulder blades, but it silenced the girl immediately. “I didn’t take that gag out so you could talk,” he told her. “But before that, stand up. I want to get a good look at you.” She obeyed, legs shaking as she lifted herself off the toilet, and Jordan took a minute to admire what would be his latest cum receptacle. She wasn’t as beautiful as Rebecca or Christine, of course, but she was still quite pretty, with a heart shaped face and curly brown hair that fell to her shoulders. She looked so bony that he idly wondered if she was anorexic, but there was enough tit meat to squish nicely between his fingers as he groped her with his free hand. She whimpered at his touch, but she did so quietly.

“If it makes you feel better,” he told her, lightly tweaking her nipples to make her squirm, “it’s nothing personal. I mean, I did choose you over the girls in the other stalls, but I’ll get to them eventually too. If Christine gets to spend prom fucking every guy here, it’s only right that her boyfriend gets to fuck every girl, right? Every stuck up bitch in our class that ever looked down on me is here tonight, and before the night ends, I’m going to cum in every last one of you. Now turn around and spread your legs.”

Nadine’s eyes had filled up with tears as he told her his intention, and she hesitated at his command. “I-” He cut her again, this time across the hip and a little deeper, leaving a line of red behind. She couldn’t help a full bodied shriek at the sudden pain, but he’d expected it, and she screamed into the hand that he’d clamped over her mouth.

“Neither one of us wants to see you die here, Nadine,” he told her calmly. “So we need you to be quiet and obedient, okay? If you just do what I tell you and keep that mouth shut, I’ll get a good fuck and you’ll get to leave this bathroom alive. That seems like a fair deal for everyone, right?” She nodded. “So turn around and spread your legs.”

She shuffled into place, widening her stance as far as the small space would allow her and pointing her ass at him. It was of modest size, but her pale skin was smooth and soft. He pulled her lacy blue panties down to her knees, then he rubbed his erection up and down her crack while he kneaded her butt cheeks. “Bend over, Nadine. No, lower. Lower.” She was in no mood to defy him right now, but she paused when she realized he wanted her to bend so far that she’d be pressing her face up against the wall. The bathroom wasn’t in the best condition, and there was a clear layer of grime coating the wall. Nadine made a soft pitiful sound, trying to communicate her distress without upsetting him by making noise. He wasn’t at all surprised by her reaction; almost every girl he’d fucked in these stalls tonight had expressed a similar reluctance. “Is the bathroom wall too dirty?” he asked her, and received another tiny nod. “Then go ahead and lick it clean.”

She gave a start at the order, but he didn’t even have to cut her to get her moving this time; just sliding the blade over her stomach did the trick. Jordan considered telling her that she wasn’t the first to give that wall a thorough tongue cleaning tonight and she wouldn’t be the last, but that would only confuse the stupid girl, so he remained silent as her pink tongue slowly poked out of her mouth and made hesitant, trembling contact. She shuddered at the taste and paused, but Jordan was ready with the knife. It only took five more nicks to impart the slut with the proper motivation to do the job. Her head bobbed up and down as she ran her tongue over the filthy cement. Jordan was in no hurry, and casually stroked her pussy and played with her asshole while she worked, evoking little squeals of discomfort from her. Fucking girls dry could be fun, but he had a lot of holes to get through tonight, and he didn’t feel like chafing his junk every time. Besides, he had enough experience teasing Rebecca that he had no trouble getting her body to react despite all her terror and disgust.

“That’s a good little wall licker,” he told her. “Look at you, working so hard to earn Jordan Seeler’s dick in your pussy. Are you starting to regret all the times you made fun of me? Looked the other way when I was being bulled?” She let out a small sound of assent that made his cock throb. He’d said similar things to every girl he’d raped in this bathroom tonight, but it never got old. “That’s a good girl. You taste that bitter, salty tang there? I was in here earlier, making sure things would be perfect for tonight. That’s my piss.” She gagged, earning herself another nick. “I didn’t tell you to stop, Nadine. Keep licking Jordan Seeler’s dried piss off that bathroom wall until it’s time for him to fuck you.”

When there was a large wet patch of saliva on the wall, and her pussy was unwillingly soaked from his attentions, he allowed Nadine to stop. “Now where were we? That’s right, you were bending over.” She bent down, pressing her face against the wet spot and smearing her own spit over her cheeks. He slid his cock over her waiting slit and rested the head against her pussy, but he didn’t penetrate her. She flinched when she felt the cold blade of the knife against her throat. “It’s time to either push or bleed, Nadine. You can swallow me up with this slutty drooling cunt, or you can die right here in the school bathroom.”

She whimpered, but the threat got her moving. Having her arms bound behind her meant that she could use them for leverage, and her attempts with just her legs only resulted in a pleasant sense of pressure on his cock. “You’re going to have to really press your face against that wall, Nadine,” he told her. “Don’t worry, all that yucky piss is already safely in your stomach.” She obeyed, and the sense of pressure built until there was a little pop and his head was inside her. Jordan had fucked dozens of different cunts by now, but he had to admit that hers was nearly the equal of a Summers cunt, as hot and tight and soft as a man could wish for. “There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he teased. “Keep pushing, Nadine. Take me all the way in. That’s it, slut. Feed every last inch of me to that greedy pussy.”

Once he was completely buried in her, he put the knife down. Past experiences told him that the girls rarely tried to call for help at this point, not after they were penetrated. The potential humiliation of being discovered like this was enough to keep them quiet. And having both his hands free meant he could use them both on her. The fingers of his left hand were already slick with her juices, and he screwed his middle finger into her asshole while he played with her tits. “And now you’re going to pull back slowly, Nadine. Slide your wet twat across my shaft until… there, stop right there. Feel how there’s just my fat cock head in you? That’s as far back as you go, Nadine. If you let my head slip out, I’m going to have to kill you. Do you understand? Don’t just nod, my little bathroom pet. You’re a very stupid girl, so I need to hear you say it out loud to make sure you really understand.”

“If… if I let you slip out…” she whispered, “y-you’ll kill me.”

“I’ll have to kill you,” he corrected. “I don’t want to, Nadine, I just want a good fuck. It won’t be my fault if you’re too stupid to live.”

“You’ll h-have to kill me.”

“Good girl. Now fuck yourself on Jordan Seeler’s cock. Use your pussy to tell him how sorry you are about the way you’ve treated him in the past.”

Nadine moved slowly and carefully, terrified of pulling out too far. Jordan had no complaints, happy to relax and enjoy the easygoing pace. Around them, oblivious people entered and exited the bathroom, none of them staying long enough to notice that one stall was permanently occupied. It took about twenty pleasant minutes for her fear-induced adrenaline to wear off, leaving behind enough fatigue to make her legs shake. It wasn’t a comfortable position that he’d demanded of her, and her face was already showing signs of bruising.from grinding against the wall so much.

“Is my fuckpet getting all tuckered out?” he asked. She hesitated, not knowing if he wanted her to lie or be truthful. “It’s okay if you are. You’ve been working very hard for me, Nadine.” She slowly nodded. “That’s what I thought. I’m going to pull out and give you a little break, okay?” Her juices were dripping off his cock when he pulled it out of her, even more than most of the other girls. Slut probably had a submissive streak to her, not that it was going to help her much. It was going to make things even easier for him, though, as he pressed his slimy cock against the anus he’d been carefully opening up the whole time. She quivered with sudden terror at the touch. “Remember, if you make any noise, I have to kill you,” he reminded her. “So be nice and quiet while I butt fuck you, Nadine.”

Her pussy hadn’t been virgin, and her asshole had responded easily enough to his efforts that he was pretty sure it wasn’t either, but it was still good and tight as he slowly eased his cock into it. “I had so much fun doing this to Christine the first time,” he told her as he worked. “She wasn’t a slut like you, so I got to be her first in every hole. Thanks again for all your help with her, by the way. The way you abandoned her after I raped her, the slut shaming after she was raped by Danny… I couldn’t have made her nearly as miserable if she didn’t have such a stupid bitch for a best friend. You should have seen the way she cried and cried after you made her eat you out.”

Nadine was crying silent tears of her own by the time he made it all the way into her ass. “You just let me do all the work this time,” he said as he pulled back to start fucking her. “And unless you want everyone to discover your corpse in here with my cum dribbling out your ass, you’re going to focus on keeping that mouth shut.” Some of the girls in her situation just couldn’t help themselves and had to be gagged, but Nadine truly was a good girl, and she kept her volume to a minimum as he enjoyed her asshole. He fucked her harder than she’d fucked him, but he wasn’t excessively rough with her. He even resumed playing with her pussy, and she moaned softly as he found her clit stiff and eager for his attention.

Her body didn’t respond immediately, but he was patient, and soon he had her panting and trembling. “Whose cock is fucking your asshole?” he whispered when she looked moments away from climax.

“J-Jordan Seeler’s.”

“And who is about to make you cum?”

“J-J-Jordan Suh…” He pinched her clitoris between thumb and finger, and the stimulation pushed her over the edge. “SeeAH! Ah! Oh God!” She quivered in forced ecstasy as she screamed, unable to keep quiet.

“What the hell was that?” asked one of the girls outside, and Nadine, still trembling in the wake of her orgasm, flinched as she realized what she’d done. “Nadine, is that you?” Someone knocked on the stall door. “Are you okay in there?”

“Tell them that you’re fine,” Jordan ordered, bringing the knife back to her neck.

“I-I’m fine,” she squeaked.

“You don’t sound fine,” said one of the girls skeptically. “You sounded like you were, uh…”

“Tell them the truth,” Jordan whispered. “Tell them you just came while being assfucked by Jordan Seeler.”

“I-I-I just… I… I came while being… while being assfuh-fucked by Jordan S-Seeler…”

There was silence outside the stall, and then an explosion of laughter from multiple people. “God, I didn’t realize what Christine had was contagious!” said one of them, struggling to talk.

“I’m going to go tell Blake,” said another crossly. “We’ll see what your boyfriend thinks about this.”

Jordan was pretty sure her date had used her absence as an opportunity to go try out his slave, and wouldn’t be found so easily, but it didn’t matter either way. He was about ready to finish. Nadine was sobbing with humiliation as he pulled out of her, spun her to face him, and pushed her down onto her knees. “Almost done,” he told her. “Just one more hole to try and then you can leave.”

She looked up at him with bloodshot eyes, makeup and mascara running down her features to give her a comical expression. She didn’t look any more dignified when he produced the ring gag and buckled it into her mouth. “I know you’re a good girl who wouldn’t dream of biting,” he said. “But sometimes sluts get overexcited and make mistakes.” He smacked her bruised cheek with his stiff cock. “Don’t forget to clean me off before we get started.” Nadine regarded his filthy dick with a look of pure horror. “Don’t worry, it won’t be so bad,” he joked. “Just close your eyes and pretend it’s another piss stained wall you’re licking.”

Before she could raise any argument, he guided his cock through the ring gag and into her mouth. Her faced scrunched up as she tasted him and everything he’d picked up from being in her lower holes. He’d long ago decided that every last arrogant cunt in the world deserved to know what her own shit tasted like. It always did wonders to improve their attitude. Even Nadine, who’d already been so submissive, seemed to shrink at the experience, and her eyes grew dull and distant as she began obediently lapping at him. When he pulled out and pressed her face against his crotch she didn’t even protest, just licked her filth off of his nuts and the base of his shaft.

“Here comes the home stretch,” Jordan told her when she’d finished cleaning him. He slid back into her mouth and kept pushing, using her own spit as lube to force his way into her throat. She gagged in protest, but there was nothing she could do as he worked himself in, not stopping until her nose was buried in his pubic hair. “You’ve been a good fucktoy, Nadine. I mean it. I’ve fucked a lot of girls in here tonight, and you might just be the best. If I’d met you before I met Christine, maybe you’d be the one tied up and getting raped from both ends right now.”

She didn’t react at the compliment, but he got her attention when he grabbed one end of her makeshift collar. With everything that was happening, she’d probably forgotten all about the piece of her former dress that he’d tied around her neck, but she remembered quickly when a sharp tug cut off her airflow. She instinctively tried to pull away, but his other hand was behind her head, keeping her in place, and she was too tired to fight him off. She gurgled helplessly as she choked, her throat doing an excellent job of wringing his cock in the process.

“I have good news and bad news for you, Nadine,” Jordan told her as her face grew slowly red from oxygen deprivation. Her survival instincts had overwhelmed her fear and she was trying to bite down to stop him, but that was exactly why he’d put the ring gag on her in the first place. “The good news is that you’re not going to remember any of this. I could take you with me when I rewind, but I’ve got a lot more rewinding to do before I’m finished tonight, and I can’t keep hauling you with me every time, let alone the other nine girls I’ve done this to tonight and the dozens left to go. The bad news…” He ground her face even harder against his crotch. “Is that if I can’t make this stick in your head, I’m at least going to get my money’s worth, so to speak.”

His cock was pulsing, ready to shoot off, as her struggles weakened. Her eyes rolled up into the back of her head, and a pool of urine began to spread out across the floor as she pissed herself. “Even if you can’t remember this moment, I’m going to cherish it,” he promised. “You and all the others. From now on, whenever I look at any of you, I’m not going to think about any of the insults or the attitude you’ve given me over the years. I’m just going to remember how good it felt to choke you to death on my cock. Goodbye, Nadine.”

She was still conscious and aware when he came. He knew by the way she shuddered when his cock starting spitting its hot seed down her throat. But she went limp before he’d finished feeding her his load, and by the time he released his hold on her collar and pulled out a few minutes later, she was completely still. Jordan didn’t need to wipe himself off with her hair, but it felt like the right thing to do. He unlocked the stall door and let it swing open, waiting for the first horrified scream before smiling and pushing time back.

Back in the gym. The exercise had left him pretty thirsty, so he visited the refreshment table to get a drink. As he munched on some chips, he watched Nadine exit the bathroom and re-enter the gym, blissfully unaware of her erased fate. “Hi, Nadine,” he said, walking over to greet her. “Enjoying prom?”

“Yeah, sure,” she said distractedly, looking around. “Have you seen Blake?”

Jordan grinned. “No, but he’s probably just busy in the bathroom.”

“Yeah, probably,” she grumbled. “He’s already had to go three times tonight. Don’t know what the hell is up with him…” She squinted at Jordan. “And what are you so happy about?”

“It’s nice to see everybody,” he told her. “Not too many chances left to do that, not with graduation in just a few days.”

Nadine looked around and snorted. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d care about things like that. Everyone’s been sucking up to you lately now that you’re loaded, but you weren’t exactly the most popular kid in our class before that.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised,” Jordan told her, his grin widening. “I have quite a few fond memories.about the people here. But speaking of my money… while your boyfriend and my girlfriend are both occupied elsewhere, what do you think about the two of us finding somewhere private to be? I could make it worth your while…”

The brunette made no attempt to hide her shudder at the idea. “I don’t want to give you the wrong idea, Jordan. I’m happy for the chances you’ve given me to teach that bitch of yours a lesson, and I’m grateful for how generous you’ve been with buying the videos I’ve filmed for you, but that’s as far as it goes. All the money in the world wouldn’t get me to sleep with you.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he told her, still smiling. “I just wanted to make sure.” He looked up at the clock on the wall. “Anyway, I’d better go check up on Christine. Be seeing you, Nadine.”

**********

At the end of the night, Jordan and Christine danced.

After four hours in the bathroom, she was more than a little unsteady on her feet, so Jordan did most of the work, leading her steps as slow, romantic music played. He’d washed her face and hair in the bathroom sink, and her black dress did a decent job of hiding her bloated stomach and the cum stains running down her legs. In the darkness of the gym, she looked practically normal.

“And how did you spend your prom, slave?” he asked. The music was loud enough to drown out their words, and if they were overheard, so what? Everyone already knew that she called him master, and most of the people in the gym already knew exactly what she’d been up to tonight.

“I… I did what you told me to, master,” Christine said uncertainly. “Your slave tried hard to be a good fucktoy for all of her suitors.”

“I’m not asking you for a general overview,” Jordan said with amusement. “I want specifics. Exactly how many times did you suck cock?”

“I… “ He watched her search for an answer. “Forty?”

“And how many times did you guzzle piss?”

“Um, thirty?”

“And get bred?”

“Twenty… five?”

“And how many boys reamed that tight asshole of yours?”

“Uh, I don’t… twenty eight?”

Jordan sighed and shook his head. “And to imagine, I used to think you were smart. Wrong on all four counts, slave.”

Christine trembled. “I’m, I’m sorry, master, I, I didn’t know I was supposed to keep count! Please punish me for, for being so stupid!”

“There’s no need for punishment,” he said smoothly. “This is meant to be a fun night for both of us. And you’re right, you didn’t know that you were supposed to keep count. You would have done much better if that was the case, right?”

“Yes master!”

“Then let’s see how well you do next time,” he said, and before she could react, he pushed time back.

“Hey, she stopped sucking me,” said the janitor a moment “later”.

“Now that calls for some punishment,” Jordan said. They were back in the boys’ bathroom, just a couple minutes after he’d gotten her set up in the stall, and a couple before the prom began. He’d offered the janitor the first crack at her mouth as a bonus for helping him out, while Jordan himself was in her warm snug pussy. There was no way she’d hear him with the earbuds in, so he pounded the side of the stall with a fist instead to get her attention. The man moaned as Christine must have resumed her efforts.

A few minutes later, the janitor had emptied both balls and bladder down her throat, and marked tallies for both. There were already six students waiting their turn by then, and when the man pulled out, she barely had time for a single breath before one of them took his place and shoved himself in. Another eight waited impatiently on Jordan’s side as he eased himself out of her cunt without finishing. She was warm and welcoming enough to deserve it, but there will still so many other girls he needed to teach a lesson to, and he didn’t want to waste a load. From the satisfied sigh of the boy who replaced him, her cunt was going to earn a hot load of cum soon enough anyway. He left them to it, eager to visit the girls’ bathroom and find out who he’d get to play with next.

Four hours later, Christine looked more nervous than ever as they glided across the dance floor. Her answers this time were much closer, but to his delight, all four were still incorrect.

“I’m trying master, I really am,” she pleaded. “It’s… it’s just with the headset and the soundtrack and having to serve two people at the same time, it’s very hard to, to focus and keep count.”

“I’m sure it is,” he told her with a smile. “Maybe you’ll do better next time.”

She didn’t. She was wrong the fourth time as well, and the fifth, and the sixth. On the seventh, she managed to correctly state the number of times she’d been assfucked, but on the eight try, she was devastated when the same number turned out to be wrong. He reminded her that while events would normally play out identically, his own presence was a disrupting factor. Who he talked to and where he went was different every cycle, and changed the course of events enough to affect the counts. Someone who showed up five minutes later than usual might have already visited the regular bathroom and not have any piss to feed her. Or he might show up five minutes earlier, find that the line for her right side was shorter than her left, and end up shooting his wad up her ass instead of down her throat. She’d have to pay attention to everything every time.

While Christine kept fucking and sucking and trying to hold numbers in her head, Jordan fucked his way through girl after girl following the same script. It was an unexpected delight to find out how each girl reacted to the same situation. Many were like Nadine, and only needed a nick with the knife here and there to transform them into obedient cum dumps. The more stubborn ones would ignore the threat of the knife and scream the instant he ungagged them. The confused looks on their faces when he just rewound them both a few seconds to restore the gag were always delightful. More than one seemingly tough girl broke down into tears after realizing how truly helpless she was to stop him.

No two girls’ reactions were completely identical. Some girls threw up trying to lick the wall clean, and some gave no reaction at all. Some of them couldn’t keep from screaming when he started raping their asses, and some fucked him back hard enough to make him lose his load there instead of holding out for their throat. One girl who had just finished a very foul smelling bowel movement before he’d shown up begged him out of nowhere not to shove her face into the toilet. Even after he was done with her, he wasn’t certain if she’d been genuinely disgusted or perversely thrilled by the act.

It took more than forty cycles to get through every girl there. Some of his favorites, like Nadine, he visited multiple times. He found himself coming back to Hailey in particular, the redheaded prom queen. If pressed, he would have had to admit that she was even prettier than his slave, her features and proportions statuesque. Even without that natural beauty, being the richest girl in school with the town mayor for a father would have made her extraordinarily popular, Jordan’s complete opposite in the social hierarchy. He wasn’t sure if it was her looks or her status that he found so compelling, but he took her over and over again, fucking her every time he encountered her in the bathroom even when there were untouched targets in other stalls. She was one of the toughest ones too, still stubborn and defiant after the point where most girls had turned into humble fucktoys. Her resistance made it all the more satisfying to see her crying while choking on his cock at the end.

On a whim, after the final time he used her, he decided to let her keep her memories when he rewound, and it turned out to be wonderful entertainment for what had become an incredibly dull party after so many iterations. The both of them ended up back in the gym, and the stupid girl immediately started wailing about how he’d raped and murdered her. Given that she was in perfect condition and he had an airtight alibi of being surrounded by multiple people, the natural conclusion was that she’d taken some illicit drugs and was on a bad trip. One of her friends took her outside to take a walk and get some air… where he raped her again before turning back time. She ran for her car after that and drove away without looking back. He was hiding in the backseat, and fucked her in the car while it sat in her own driveway. The third time, she tried staying on the dance floor, seeking safety in numbers, but having people around just meant she had an audience when Jordan shoved his fist up her perfect bubble butt.

It was like a fun game of hide and seek that always ended with opening up some of her holes. It took until the tenth round for her stop running or hiding and crawl to him instead, begging for his mercy. The two of them paid a visit to her house after that, where he fucked her on her own bed while she smiled and wrapped her legs around him and tried her very best to be a good fuck for her new master. She wasn’t as quick a learner as Christine, or as fun to abuse as Rebecca, but she made up for it with a pitiful desire to please.

The poor thing was so cute that Jordan couldn’t help himself. He rewound them back to the prom, and led her to Christine’s bathroom for a final rewind with all three of them back to the beginning of the night. For the next cycle, and every cycle thereafter, the boys who came to use his slave were surprised and delighted to find the perfect and popular prom queen there too, naked and kneeling and ready to work hard as both fluffer and cock cleaner.

**********

In the end, the prom lasted about three weeks. Jordan didn't spend the entire time there; he took a break every cycle or two to eat or rest. He didn't let Christine remember any of that though, so from her perspective it was two straight weeks of sucking and fucking in that little bathroom stall, punctuated by a dance and a quiz every four hours.

She broke down and cried during the last dance when he told her that she'd finally counted everything correctly. He embraced her, giving everyone else an apologetic smile at his over emotional girlfriend. Hailey seemed equally relieved when he told her that it was over, though her enthusiasm dampened considerably when he gave her a final order.

Christine looked shell shocked as he led her to his car, staring blankly into space and shuffling her feet. Her physical condition had reset every cycle, but several hours of gangbanging was still one hell of a workout. Her fatigue didn't stop her from leaning over without prompting to suck his cock once they were both seated. Jordan chuckled as the little slut swallowed him with a desperation that any outside observer would have mistaken for eagerness. She was clearly hoping to keep him from changing his mind and bringing her back to her stall.

Jordan had no intention of rewinding again, but he also saw no reason to interrupt a good throatjob. He rested one hand on her sweaty hair and steered with the other, driving through the parking lot nice and slow to give everyone he passed the opportunity to see what his slave was up to.

Exhausted as she was, and with her head down, Christine didn't notice that his destination wasn't either of their houses until he’d parked the car and she went to get out. "Wh-why are we here, master?" she asked plaintively. She was trembling slightly, smart enough to know that she wasn't going to like the answer.

"Here" was a suburban street across from a large model home. Its expansive driveway was already packed with cars, and more lined the street in both directions. "Legally I'm still just a teenager in school," he told her as he exited the car, "but I wasn't exactly thrilled about living like one in my parents' house." He'd long lost track of how many extra days he'd lived with all his freezing and rewinding, but a casual estimate put him somewhere around twenty one. "So I bought a little place of my own. I'm going to officially move in after graduation."

She put on a smile with obvious effort as she looked up at him. He hadn’t ordered her to crawl beside him on all fours, but she’d done it anyway. Such a good slave. “That’s wonderful, master. Will your slave get to help welcome you into your new home tonight?”

“Oh, I think you’ll be way too busy to pay me much attention, slave. You’ve still got a lot of work to do.”

“Work, master…?”

“How many cocks did you suck again?”

“Sixty seven, master,” she said promptly.

“And how many people did you invite to prom?”

The queasy look on her face told him that she saw where this was going. “One hundred and eighty three, master…”

“Exactly. That’s at least a hundred and twenty six people who haven’t seen what a good cocksucker you are. There’s plenty more who didn’t get to pound that pussy, or fuck that ass. I’m sure there’s people who never found the time for even a single one of your holes. Isn’t that a shame?”

“Y-yes…”

“Luckily,” Jordan told her as they reached the front steps. “Prom is about more than just the dance. There’s also the after party, and I made sure everyone you invited knew about this one. I even invited a few special guests.”

Christine knelt in shocked silence at the scene that greeted them inside. There were already at least sixty guys there, talking and laughing as they ate the catered food Jordan had prepared beforehand. Hailey was proving to be as popular as ever in the living room. The beautiful redhead was sitting on one boy, riding him with her pussy, while sucking hungrily on the second boy in front of her, and her hands were busy stroking two others. The girl couldn’t have beaten them there by more than fifteen minutes or so, but she was already well on her way to being plastered with cum.

Beside her, Sandy was on her back with someone kneeling between her spread legs and another straddling her stomach with his cock between her tits. A few months working the streets had left her looking years older, and there were track marks on both arms, but she was a well trained whore by now, and fucked both her partners with feigned enthusiasm. The boy fucking her tits began to cum and she eagerly opened her mouth to catch his load, licking her lips when she was done.

His slave had seen Hailey in the bathroom while he was cleaning her up and getting her dressed, so she couldn’t have been too surprised by her appearance, and she already knew what he’d done to Sandy, but she must have been caught completely off guard by Nadine’s presence. Her former friend was kneeling and doing her best to suck on two cocks at the same time while she used both hands to play with herself. As the brunette worked, the boy behind her looked like he was having the time of his life stretching out her asshole.

“Don’t worry,” Jordan told Christine, enjoying the stunned look on her face, “they’re just here to help your suitors pass the time while they wait for their turns with you. You’ll still get to take every man here in every one of your holes.”

Nadine had been almost as fun to break in as Hailey. Christine didn’t remember it, but when they’d left the gym, his new home hadn’t been their first destination. They’d paid a visit to Nadine’s house instead. Her parents didn’t give them any trouble, and soon Jordan was riding the cute brunette while she screamed for help. She was as weak willed there as she’d been in the bathroom, and it took less than a day before Jordan was satisfied that she wouldn’t give them any trouble.

“Are you having a good time over there, Hailey?” Jordan asked, and received a muffled sound of agreement. “And you, Sandy?” The dark haired girl moaned with fake pleasure as she massaged a fresh cock between her fat tits. “How about you, Nadine? Enjoying the after party?” The brunette was busy trying to squeeze both dicks into her throat at the same time, but she awkwardly nodded. “Good girls. We don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea now, so don’t forget to smile so everyone can see how much fun you’re having. Now let’s clear a space for the guest of honor.”

Everyone shifted to make room for Christine. She was still frozen, but when he took her hand and tugged her forward, she crawled along without complaint. “I figure it will take you about a week, give or take,” he told her, “before everyone is completely satisfied, which will be just in time for graduation.”

That last word made her flinch. “Master,” she said urgently, keeping her voice low enough to avoid attracting attention, “I, I can’t! I mean, that is, I need to show up at school next week!” He smiled at her anxiety. Her grades were good enough to pass, barely, but there was an attendance requirement to graduate too, and between him and Rebecca, she rarely made it to school more than once or twice a week. She probably didn’t think he’d known that she only needed one more day to meet the requirement. As though he hadn’t carefully plotted out what days she’d get to go to school to arrive at just this stage.

“Oh really?” he asked, feigning ignorance. “Well, you’d better work hard then. If you’re a really, really good fuck, maybe everyone will finish soon enough for you to make the last day.” She didn’t seem to have much faith in his words, but she knew it was the best chance she’d get, and didn’t try to argue. “Oh, and to help keep you from getting bored….” He picked a sharpie up off the coffee table. “That little game we played earlier was just a warm-up.” He began writing on her, keeping the words small to conserve space. The familiar SUCKED COCK and GUZZLED PISS went on her cheeks, but they were joined by ATE SHIT, LICKED BALLS, MUNCHED ASS, and CLEANED SOMEONE ELSE’S MESS. Her breasts received FUCKED, CHEWED, TWISTED, and SLAPPED. Her upper thighs by her pussy were used for POUNDED, PISSED IN, PISSED MYSELF, LICKED, FISTED, and CAME LIKE THE WORTHLESS SLUT I AM. Her backside borrowed many of the other words: SLAPPED, POUNDED, PISSED IN, LICKED, and FISTED, and it also became home to SHAT MYSELF, DOUBLE STUFFED, TRIPLE STUFFED, and last but not least, SPREAD MYSELF OPEN LIKE A GOOD GIRL.

“There,” Jordan said, using a mirror to show Christine the results. “Just twenty five things to keep track of. Easy peasy, right?” She started to cry as he buckled the VR headset on her and taped the earbuds in place. “It only took you, what, eighty seven tries at prom? If you can do as a good job here, that’ll only be about a twenty month long gangbang. No trouble at all for a slut like you.” He raised his voice. “Who wants to be first?”

Everyone did.

Chapter Twenty Five

Graduation took place on a sunny afternoon out on the school’s football field. Row after row of chairs were set up on the astro turf for the students to sit in, while the bleachers behind them were filled with friends and family. Only students that were graduating were allowed down on the field. That’s why Christine was up in the bleachers.

She’d already known deep down that Jordan wasn’t going to let her graduate. She’d known it for months. There was nothing he loved more than the opportunity to push her face into the dirt, and making the school’s former star student fail twelfth grade was exactly the sort of thing he was into. But she’d still had hope. Hope that maybe if she did a good job, maybe if she spent every day showing him what an obedient fucktoy he’d turned her into, he’d show her this tiny shred of mercy. So she’d been sad, but not surprised, when he’d denied it to her.

In a way, it didn’t even matter. Christine’s ambitions had withered and shrunk over the last year. Once she’d had so many bright dreams of her future. She’d imagined finding a fulfilling job where she could make a real difference in the world, meeting a good man, starting a family. The Christine back then might as well be a completely different person. The Christine she was today had no dreams grander than sucking her owner well enough that he might not piss down her throat after, and convincing her sister to only beat her half to death when they were alone together. What good would a degree do for someone like that?

Her body still ached from the impossibly long gangbang at Jordan’s house. Christine didn’t know if he’d been bluffing about leaving her like that for years, and she didn’t want to find out. In her experience, it was always best to assume that Jordan really was that cruel. She’d tried to keep track of all the things he wanted, but following everything like that for even half an hour would have been a gargantuan feat for a girl who was practically dead on her feet before she even crawled through the door. Managing it for a week was simply impossible.

She’d pleaded with him for release every time. Her one trump card was that time had to pass for him too. Every day that she spent being passed back and forth from student to student was also a day where Jordan couldn’t enjoy his favorite slave all to himself. And while she wouldn’t ultimately wouldn’t age more than a week no matter how many times he put her through that torture, he was already significantly older than she was. Everyone around him just assumed that it was part of his newfound confidence, but she knew him better, and could see the signs of age in him. How many years had he already spent torturing her and Rebecca?

At the end of the eighth loop, nearly two months after he’d dropped her off at his house, he’d finally offered her a way out. He told her that there was one fantasy he’d had before he’d ever tamed her, and never gotten to see made real. Christine knew that if he was tossing her a lifeline, it was only because he had something worse for her in mind. She accepted anyway. The time she’d spent in his house, being fucked in every hole by an endless series of unseen cocks, forced to watch past degradations while her ears were filled with a constant stream of abuse and pain, had been a living nightmare.

Hailey and Nadine weren’t present at the ceremony. Neither was Sandy, though she wasn’t graduating anyway. All three of them were still back at Jordan’s house. The boys had all left, but he’d brought in Rebecca and told her that he’d found three more girls worthy of punishment. The last time Christine had seen them, all three were bent over one of the couches in a row, arms bound and legs spread, while Rebecca took turns beating their asses with a riding crop. God only knew what Jordan would end up doing to those poor women, but she didn’t have time to worry about them right now.

Christine stood and applauded when Jordan was called up on stage to receive his diploma. She clapped like her life depended on it, drawing looks from more than one person near her. She ignored them. Jordan would want applause, and the last thing she needed was to get punished for not looking happy enough about his success.

After a few speeches from the principal and the teachers, Jordan was called back on stage again to give a speech as valedictorian.. Once upon a time, Christine had been on track to be that herself. That fact shouldn’t have stung as much as it did. She knew his grades weren’t the best, and he showed up to school barely more often than she did, but money and pussy went a long way. Jordan had received straight As in all his classes, and everyone whose GPA could’ve surpassed his found themselves floundering when finals came. What a coincidence.

She tensed as he walked to the podium. It was time, and she needed to do this right. If she made a mistake, she’d be lucky if all he did was make her spend a few more weeks in that hellish gangbang. It would have been easier if he’d given her explicit orders. She’d gotten very good at obeying orders. But he’d left all the heavy lifting up to her.

Jordan cleared his throat and glanced down at his notes. “Time waits for no man,” he said. “We must make all we can of the present, because it-”

“I love you, Jordan!”Christine screamed at the top of her lungs. Jordan paused, and all eyes turned to her. She felt the weight of them as she rose from her seat and stumbled down the bleacher steps, praying that she wouldn’t trip and fall in her exhaustion. “I love you!”

Everyone stood frozen, not knowing how to react, as she ran onto the field and scrambled up onto the stage to join him. She didn’t risk standing there alongside him. That was no place for a slave. She crawled across the stage on hands and feet instead, and kissed his shoes when she reached him. “Please master,” she begged, peppering her words with more kisses, and making sure to speak loud enough to be heard by everyone. “I know I’m just a dumb slut who’s fucked half the guys here. I know you deserve so much better than this pathetic slave. You’re the most wonderful person in the world, smart and handsome and perfect, and you deserve someone of equal splendor. All I’m asking is that you accept my love! Please let this ass licking, cum guzzling, piss drinking dog fucker love you!”

This was what he’d asked for, a public declaration of her love, and one that made it clear how far beneath him she was. A final humiliation to mark the end of their school life. This was how they’d be remembered by all their peers as they went off to live their lives: him as the rich, successful genius, and her as the lowly nymphomaniac. And now he would reject her. Not with obviously cruelty, which would tarnish his image, but firmly and politely. He would leave no question that he was an upstanding young man, and she was a deluded freak. If she was lucky, a few people might even feel sorry for her.

“I love you too, Christine,” Jordan said instead. “I have for a very long time.”

She blinked, confused. That wasn’t right. Jordan would never give her that kind of validation. But he took his hand in hers, and gently pulled her to her feet to stand next to him. “I know things haven’t been easy for you lately,” he told her. “There have been struggles, and pain, and loss. You’ve been through so much, and it’s changed you. But I know you, Christine Summers. I’ve known you all your life. And I know that there’s a brilliant, beautiful, and kind person in there struggling to get out. You won’t have to fight this alone. I’m going to help you get better, no matter how long it takes. No matter what happens, even in the worse of times, I will always remain by your side.” He pulled something out of his pocket, and…

No. No! He couldn’t! Nononononono-

Jordan knelt and offered her the ring. “Christine Summers, will you marry me?”

Christine threw up.

“Please, master,” she begged as soon as she was able, spitting the last strands of bile from her mouth, “please no…” She made no attempt to lower her voice or hide her terror. What the audience witnessed didn’t matter anymore. The punishment she would receive for not playing along didn’t matter anymore. “I’m sorry, whatever I did to you, I’m sorry, please don’t…” She was supposed to finally be done. He’d destroyed her life, destroyed her family, and now he would leave to let her wallow in misery while he went off and did whatever he wanted. He would leave. That was the only thing that had gotten her through this terrible year, the knowledge that it would all stop if she could just make it to the end. She’d clung to that hope that graduation meant freedom, clung to it like a drowning woman in a storm, not daring to even consider the idea that she might be wrong.

But marriage meant he wasn’t going to let her go after all. He was going to keep her, and this… this horrible, wretched state he’d put her in, that was going to be her life… he was going to keep torturing her for the rest of her life… “Pleaaaaaase…” she whined. “I’ll fuck you whenever you want. One phone call, one text, and I’ll stop whatever I’m doing and come to you. I’ll do anything, anytime, anywhere. Just please master, please, let me be a human being again. Let me have a real life when I’m not kneeling at your feet. That’s all I-”

Jordan’s fist struck her face, and Christine wavered and collapsed. She looked up to see her owner standing over her, his face dark with anger. “You fucking bitch!” he snarled and her head snapped to the side as he kicked her again, leaving a bloody furrow across her cheek. “You couldn’t let me have this one moment, could you? I’ve been looking forward to this proposal for years, and now you’ve fucked it all up!” There were tears in his eyes as he kicked her a third time, and then he was grabbing her hair and shoving her face first into the puddle of vomit. “Do you have any idea how humiliating this is?! I’m so disgusting that I make you puke?! And you!” He glared at the stunned crowd. “You were all going to cheer for me! You were going to love me! And now all I can do is go back and try to forget the way you’re all laughing at me right now, forget the scorn and pity on your faces for stupid nerdy little Jordan. Fuck you! I’m going to make every last one of you fuckers pay!”

“Don’t hurt them,” Christine wheezed. He’d damaged something in her neck and it was hard to talk, but she forced the words out. “Please master, I, it’s all my fault… punish me, not them…”

“Of course it’s your fault! Stupid, stuck up cunt!” Something crunched when he kicked her again, and the pain nearly made her pass out. “All you had to do was smile and say ‘yes’! You couldn’t even get that right, you worthless, lazy, stupid fucktoy!” He punctuated every insult with another kick.

She could hear people approaching the stage, some of them shouting. “This isn’t over, slave,” he said, and she felt warm spittle strike her. “We’re going to do this again, and you’re going to do it right, and then I’m going to bring you back home and spend the entire summer making you wish you’d never been born. You ever wonder how Bitch got the way she is? Well I’m going to treat you even worse. And at the end of the summer, you’ll have a single opportunity, no second chances, to beg for the privilege of being my wife. If you can do it well enough and sweet enough and convince me that you really truly mean it, then maybe the way you spend your summer won’t be the way you spend the rest of your life.” He touched her, and time blurred around them.

“Christine Summers,” Jordan said, and though his voice was calm again, hot anger still flashed in his eyes, “will you marry me?”

Tears streamed down Christine’s face as she forced herself to smile. “Yes,” she whispered.

Chapter Twenty Six

The wedding of Jordan Seeler and Christine Summers took place on a Saturday in late September. Although the groom paid lavishly, reserving one of the finest churches in the area for the entire day and securing high quality food and entertainment, it was a fairly unremarkable affair. About two hundred people, most of them various relatives and friends of family, watched the two lovers walk down the aisle and exchange vows. There was a reception with dinner, dancing, and a wedding cake. Nothing noteworthy.

That was the version people remembered, anyway.

**********

There was a stir when Christine appeared. Part of the commotion was her wedding dress, or lack thereof. She was naked save for her familiar bondage gear: red leather collar and leash, pink vibrator, ball gag (dangling around her neck), nipple clamps, and butt plug. In addition, she wore her engagement ring on her freshly pierced clitoris. The other problem was the way she entered: behind Rebecca, her face buried between her older sister’s swaying cheeks as they both crawled to their master. Once Rebecca reached the altar, she unbuttoned Jordan’s pants so she could begin sucking on him, while Christine knelt, ass in the air, and continued tonguing her sister’s butt. There were various cries of outrage and disgust from the audience, but they all changed to panic when Jordan produced a handgun from his dress pants and waved it at them.

“Let’s all just try to relax and enjoy the festivities,” he told them calmly and with a smile. “If anyone tries to run, I will have to kill you. I genuinely hope that none of you are that stupid, because for Christine’s sake it would be a shame to have to lose any guests.” Five people ignored his warning and bolted for the exit. Everyone gasped as Jordan vanished in an instant only to appear right in front of the first runner and shoot him dead. A half second later he did it to the second, and so on. Before the first body hit the floor, he was standing back by the altar again. The impossible scene, and the sight of the five corpses, convinced everyone else in the room that obedience was the best option.

“Really now, there’s no need for any distress,” he said once things had calmed down save for the occasional weeping. “This is a wedding! And you’re all going to enjoy yourselves, I promise. Well, most of you, anyway. Helen Summers, you mind joining us up here?”

Christine’s mother stood, her legs shaking and her face white with panic. “Please!” she begged. “Please, I…please don’t kill me!”

“Mrs Summers,” Jordan said, in a tone that suggested she was being very silly, “you know I’m not gonna do anything like that! Not unless you try to run. And even then I’ll probably just beat that plump ass of yours until you know better. I just want all three of my slaves together for a bit. Come on over here - no no no, crawl over here, that’s it, there’s a good girl.” Trembling and crying, Helen crawled up the aisle on all fours. Without needing to be told, Christine reached behind herself to spread her ass cheeks wide apart. “Dig in, Mrs. Summers. I haven’t let her have a shit or an enema in the last three days to make sure she had plenty of gooey treats waiting up there.”

Helen didn’t care for the taste of her daughter’s asshole, but tapping her forehead with the muzzle of the gun quickly taught her to reevaluate her preferences, and soon she was noisily sucking the cum out of Christine’s guts. “That a girl,” Jordan encouraged. “Any time your mouth isn’t busy today, I want it sucking tight on that asshole, okay? If I ever catch you doing otherwise, I’ll have to punish you for being a a naughty girl.” Her sucking grew noisier as she responded to his motivation.

Now that the mouths of all three Summers women were busy, Jordan addressed his audience again. “This is going to be the last time that my bride sees most of you, so I wanted to make it a special occasion. Give everyone the chance to give her some gifts. You want to explain it to them, dear?”

Christine nodded and pulled away from her sister’s ass so that she could shuffle to face their guests. Her mother tried to use her movement as an opportunity to stop, but Christine grabbed hold of her hair, and the woman reluctantly followed along to keep her mouth on her daughter’s ass. “Everyone please remain in your seats while I call you up one at a time. When you come up here, please allow me the honor of drinking your hot cum or sweet pussy juice. Don’t worry about performing: I promise to do all the work to make you finish. Meanwhile, my ass eating mother will be helping out as a cum receptacle” - Helen gave a start at this but didn’t pause what she was doing - “and my cock sucking sister will be helping out as a fluffer.” Rebecca wiggled her ass and purred loudly at her mention

Christine closed her eyes, and took a deep breath before she opened them again. “Randall Summers, please step forward so your daughter can taste your cum.”

Her father rose from his seat. Like her mother, he too was shaking, but from anger. “I will kill you for this,” he promised Jordan, and then screamed a second later and collapsed to knees.

“Sorry, Mr Summers,” said Jordan. “It’s just a leg wound. Bullet passed through fine. But unless you want some more bullet holes, I suggest you stop being a crybaby and come fuck your daughter. It won’t exactly be the first time.”

Seething, Randall limped over to the altar, where Christine immediately swallowed him up. The pain had made him go soft, but she was patient and skilled. While she got to work being a cock sheathe, Jordan pushed Rebecca off of him. The slave gave no negative reaction to being pushed, and knelt to kiss his feet before crawling to her sister’s side. Jordan whistled, and the three bridesmaids who’d been standing quietly behind him the whole time began to undress: Sandy, Hailey, and Nadine. All three girls had spent time with Jordan over the summer, usually being trained by him and Rebecca, and by now their attitudes were ones of meek acceptance. Once they were naked, they laid down side by side with legs spread, each beginning to masturbate themselves. “While everyone else is enjoying my bride, I thought I’d say some farewells of my own,” Jordan told the crowd, and walked over to join them. He knelt and sank his cock into Sandy, who moaned with fake orgasmic pleasure. Nadine crawled closer to begin licking his nutsack, while Hailey submissively offered up her breasts to be chewed and sucked.

Someone in the crowd decided that this was the perfect opportunity to escape. A moment later, his corpse slumped back into his seat, a single neat bullet hole in his forehead. “I really don’t like having to do that,” Jordan said. “If people keep trying to bail, maybe I’ll have to start thinking of a slower way kill you. Would that get you to stop being so stupid, do you think?“

It didn’t take long for Christine’s father to groan and start filling her mouth with cum. She remained kneeling and sucked the last of it out of him without swallowing a drop, then tugged her mother’s hair. Helen had no hesitation about breaking contact with Christine’s ass, but she was considerably less happy when her daughter forced open her mouth and spat the mouthful of cum into it. “Swallow,” Christine ordered, and Helen reluctantly gulped down her husband’s second hand load. “Back to work.” Helen whimpered, but returned her tongue to her daughter’s guts.

Rebecca had already taken Christine’s spot and was eagerly sucking on their father while her fingers lightly played with his asshole. “Mmmm, come on Daddy,” she murmured around his cock, “be a good boy and get hard for Becky.” It took less than a minute before she pulled back to reveal his dick standing as long and thick as ever. Get to it, bitch,” she told Christine, and licked her lips. Christine nodded and took over. She sucked a second load of cum out of Randall, and then a third with her sister’s help again. Like the first, both loads were spat into their mother’s mouth, whose face took on a nauseated expression as she realized what her role in this was going to be.

By the time Rebecca was trying to suck their father into a round four, Nadine was laying face up on top of Jordan, bobbing her hips to fuck her asshole on him. Hailey was drilling her pussy with a thick strap-on from Rebecca’s collection, while Sandy crouched and humped Nadine’s face. All three girls wore happy expressions and made coos of joy as they fucked and were fucked, but their eyes were uniformly dead and distant.

“Meredith Seeler,” Christine called out once Rebecca regretfully concluded that their father wasn’t going to get hard again any time soon. Jordan’s mother stepped forward quickly, not wanting to get shot, while Randall stumbled past her back to his seat, guilt written all over his face.

The woman gave her son a horrified look as she approached the stage. “Sweetie, what’s going on?” she asked, voice trembling. “Th-this isn’t like you.”

“No, Mom, it’s exactly like me,” Jordan said easily. “You just don’t know who I am anymore. Haven’t for years. But don’t worry Mom, you and everyone else will get to forget this when it’s over. Now let my bride give her soon to be mother-in-law a good tongue lashing.” His mother still looked scared and uncertain when Christine planted her lips on the woman’s pussy and began demonstrating the skills her sister had taught her. Every few minutes she stopped to spit the accumulated pussy juice into her own mother. This time Rebecca assisted by licking the woman’s ass and teasing her clit.

After five orgasms, Meredith’s pussy was so overworked that her son’s fiancee’s tongue brought more pain than pleasure. That was Christine’s cue to send her back and call up the next person, and the next. Everyone followed the same pattern. Christine’s talented mouth provided each of them pleasure, with her sister standing by to coax the men to life. Some of them only lasted one or two rounds, but many of the younger ones, including a few of Christine’s cousins, fucked the bride’s mouth six times or more before their balls were drained. And every drop of cum and juice went to their mother, who had started crying at some point and never stopped.

While the Summers women worked together to satisfy the entire church, Jordan played with his three fucktoys. They arranged and contorted themselves into various positions, always looking for new ways to please him. “I won’t be seeing any of you girls again after this,” he told them at one point. “Which means that soon you can return to your regular life and remember all this as a single wild chapter of your youth. Or I might sell you to someone who can keep you as their basement pet for the rest of your days. Or I might just bury your cumsoaked body in an unmarked grave instead. To be honest, I haven’t decided yet.”

“Please don’t kill us, master,” Hailey said, and the others all nodded in agreement. “Please, we’ll do anything.”

Jordan laughed. “Sorry, sorry, I should have phrased that better. I’m not trying to decide whether to let all of you go, sell you off, or kill you. I’m trying to decide which one to let go, which one to sell off, and which one to kill.” All three girls’ faces went pale. “Like I said, it’s still up in the air. So if any of you have a preference…” He stroked his cock. “I suggest trying to get on my good side.”

They did. Sandy offered to help him tattoo obscene words and images all over her body if he would let her go. Nadine suggested that she make some films of her own, films where she fucked dogs and ate shit and did whatever else Jordan might find pleasing. Hailey’s reaction was to climb onto his lap and sink her pussy down onto his cock. “Please sell me, master,” she told him, bouncing softly on him. “But to someone neaｒby, okay? So that anytime you want, your fuckpet will be just a short phone call away. Her new master will make sure her holes are always tight and her body is always in perfect shape. I know you have your own slaves, but isn’t a little variety nice? A year from now, three years from now, won’t it be fun to pick up the phone and find out how well trained your fuckpet’s cunt has become under someone’s guidance?” The other two hastened to add that they too would be happy being sold.

It took all afternoon and evening for the Summers women to wring out the entire church. Rebecca spent the whole time smiling and humming, happy to be useful to her owner. Christine wore a constant look of determination as she pleasured everyone with the concentration and focus of a surgeon. Their mother just looked like she was going to be sick, and had indeed thrown up more than once. “Everyone feeling better now?” Jordan asked. “Happy and satisfied? I know that’s how I feel every time my slave finishes draining my balls. Take my hands, girls.”

Helen had to be pushed, but all six women held onto their master’s hand. “I’d let you all remember this if I could,” Jordan said, “but at least my Christine will remember your generosity, and that’s what matters most. This day is for her, after all.”

And then they were back. Not to the start of the ceremony though. Jordan wasn’t done with everyone yet.

Christine faced the crowd. “Everyone please remain in your seats while I call you up one at a time. When you come up here, please allow me the honor of squirting your baby juice into my fertile teenage pussy. My cock sucking sister has generously provided one of her favorite strap-ons for the women. Don’t worry about performing: I promise to do all the work to make you finish. Meanwhile, my ass eating mother will be helping out as a cum receptacle and my cock sucking sister will be helping out as a fluffer.”

Helen looked around wildly, not understanding what was going on, but a quick slap from Rebecca got her to behave. Soon, a newly re-injured Randall Summers was standing still while his daughter bent over and fucked her cunt on his stiff cock. Jordan whistled, and his three pets joined him once more. When Randall was spent and Helen had finished sucking the cum out of her daughter’s pussy, it was time for Meredith to buckle on the largest strap-on Rebecca owned and begin drilling the bride herself. She wasn’t allowed to stop until Rebecca’s fingers and tongue had given Jordan’s mother another five orgasms.

Once everyone was done fucking the bride, Jordan reset again.

“Everyone please remain in your seats while I call you up one at a time. When you come up here, please do me the honor of kicking me in the stomach until I puke. Don’t worry, my ass eating mother will clean up the mess afterward, and my cock sucking sister will be refilling my stomach each time with some of master’s piss and cum that we’ve saved up for just this occasion.”

“Everyone please remain in your seats while I call you up one at a time. When you come up here, please allow me the honor of coating my bowels with your hot cum . My cock sucking sister has generously provided one of her favorite strap-ons for the women. Don’t worry about performing: I promise to do all the work to make you finish. Meanwhile, my ass eating mother will be helping out as a cum receptacle and cock cleaner and my cock sucking sister will be helping out as a fluffer.”

“When you come up here, please do me the honor of shoving your arm up my cunt. Don’t worry, my ass eating mother will lick your arm clean afterward, and my cock sucking sister will eagerly fuck you as thanks for your hard work each time.”

“When you come up here, please do me the honor of pissing in my mouth. Meanwhile, my ass eating mother will be helping out as a piss receptacle, and my cock sucking sister will be diligently checking everyone afterward to see if I missed sucking a single drop out of you. If I was a lazy toilet, she will kindly beat my tits to encourage me to try harder.”

“Please do me the honor of putting cigarettes out on me. Meanwhile, my ass eating mother will be helping out as an ashtray, and my cock sucking sister will be lighting and puffing on the cigarettes to prevent the smoke from harming anyone.”

“Please do me the honor of sodomizing me with one of your shoes. Don’t worry, my ass eating mother will give them a thorough spit polish afterward, and my cock sucking sister will eagerly lick your ass as thanks for your hard work each time.”

“Please do me the honor of whipping my tits ten times each. My ass eating mother will be licking the blood off afterward, and my cock sucking sister will be blowing you while you work.”

“Please do me the honor of feeding me your jizz.”

“Please do me the honor of flooding my guts with cum.”

“Please do me the honor of fisting my pussy.”

“Please do me the honor of feeding me your shit.”

“Please do me the honor of sticking pins in my chest.”

“Please do me the honor of slapping my face until I cry.”

“Please do me the honor of spitting in my mouth.”

“Please do me the honor of riding me like a horse while my cocksucking sister follows behind with a whip.”

“Please do me the honor of allowing me lick your feet.”

“Please do me the honor of fucking my soft fat tits.”

“Please do me the honor of breaking one of my bones.”

“Please do me the honor of allowing me gargle your cum.”

“Please do me the honor of punching me in the stomach until I puke.”

“Please do me the honor of yanking out a chunk of my hair.”

“Please do me the honor of masturbating onto my face.”

“Please do me the honor of feeding me whatever jewelry you have on.”

“Please do me the honor of allowing my asshole hug your prick.”

“Please do me the honor of calling me a lying whore who deserves everything I get.”

“Please do me the honor of taking a dump on my tits.”

“Please do me the honor of pumping a baby into me.”

“Please do me the honor of filling my bowels with piss.”

“Please do me the honor of letting me tongue bathe your asshole.”

“Please do me the honor of making me pass out with your fat cock in my throat and your hands around my neck.”

“Please do me the honor of jacking off with my hair.”

“Please do me the honor of giving me a cum enema.”

“Please do me the honor of ripping out one of my piercings and then putting it back in.”

On and on it went, Christine begging everyone who knew her to hurt her, fuck her, and use her. Every so often she’d hit a cycle that she particularly hated, like when she was hung up by the hair so that everyone could use a baseball bat to beat her like a piñata. Or when each person had to use a knife to carve their initials somewhere on her skin. These Jordan would make her repeat at least two or three times in a row. When her wedding cake was wheeled in so that everyone could masturbate on a piece before force feeding it to her, he was so amused by her reaction that she spent nearly two straight days choking down filth soaked confectionery. Much, much later, during the reception for the “real” wedding, Christine would have to excuse herself to go throw up after Jordan fed her a perfectly ordinary piece as part of the cake cutting ceremony.

Meanwhile, his three high school pets did their very best to convince him that they were the one who deserved a life of freedom. Nadine volunteered to be his toilet during the wedding. Whenever he had to piss or shit, she would smile and purr like she was tasting ambrosia itself. Before long, she was the toilet for the entire chapel. Unless they were on a cycle where the guests’ waste was destined for the bride and her mother, she would crawl between the pews, begging each person to gift her with the delicious fuckpet treats hiding in their bladders and bowels.

Hailey proved to be an expert at making him hard again. She would cradle his cock with her delicate fingers, and gently use her warm breath and soft lips to revive him over and over. She quickly discovered that reverse psychology was particularly effective. She would beg him not grow stiff, tell him about how sore her holes were and how tired she was, plead with him not to make her quiver and clench around his cock once again. Then, sobbing and miserable, she would begin gently tonguing him, silently encouraging him to shatter her hopes. It never failed to make him ready for more. He even had Rebecca take a break from her usual duties a few times to come over and watch her technique. His bitch was jealous at first, but once she realized that these methods would help her get fucked more often, she carefully studied everything the redhead did.

Sandy lacked Nadine’s stomach or Hailey’s technique, but she made up for it with single minded devotion. Any command, no matter how disgusting or painful, was met with an immediate “yes master”. Rip out her own hair and eat it? “Yes master”. Cram a thick bible up her asshole? “Yes master”. Break her own fingers one by one while he was inside her, so that her involuntary spasms of pain would milk his cock? “Yes master”. Sometimes, when he was feeling tired or bored, he’d have her spend hours torturing the other two, knowing that she would hold nothing back, putting every ounce of energy she had into making her two sister-pets scream.

For the penultimate cycle, weeks after the wedding first began, Jordan made Christine kill everyone. He used handcuffs and ropes to secure them all to her seats, and then gave her a knife and told her to get started. His bride had to go up to each person in turn, listening to them scream and beg for mercy, and then tell them goodbye and murder them with a smile. Hesitation or a lack of feigned joy not only meant a redo, she would have to finish them more slowly and painfully the next time. Christine was sobbing and grinning and feeling more than a little insane by the time she drove the knife into the final guest, her father, and watched him die in front of her with her name on his lips.

In the final cycle, before what would be the “official” wedding, it was at last time for Jordan to say goodbye to his three fucktoys, who waited anxiously to hear their fates. “Sandy,” he said, “you get to live.” The girl broke down into tears and fell to her knees to start kissing his feet, while the other two looked ready to throw up. “Just like you suggested, you and I are going to take a trip down to the tattoo parlor, and you are going to get every inch of your body covered with obscenities. And then we’ll return you to your pimp. I’m sure there will be plenty of weirdos out there who will enjoy fucking an ugly freak like you, especially if some of those tattoos give them wonderful suggestions on how to treat you.”

“And Hailey,” he said, “you get to be sold, just like you requested.” The redhead let out a sigh of relief. “There’s a man I know who still needs a fuckpet number three. Before we go, you’re going to talk to your parents and tell them how your new goal in life is to be the best cum receptacle a complete stranger has ever had. You will make it clear that you’re doing it out of your own free will, and that you’re never coming back. I’ll make sure he regularly sends some pictures and videos back to them so they can see just what their daughter gets up to over the years.”

Nadine was trembling, tears running down her face. “Please…” she begged. “Please, please don’t kill me…”

“I’m not going to kill you, silly,” Jordan said. “Not yet. I liked your idea too. From now on, I’d like to wake up every morning to find a new video that you’ve posted online. Make them nice and raunchy, something that even my slut of a wife would be embarrassed to do. You’ll publish a video like that every day for the rest of your life, and I do mean that literally, Nadine. The first day I wake up and don’t see a video, or find one that’s sub-par…” He stroked her hair. “I’ll have to come and pay you a visit.” White faced, she nodded and promised that she would always have one for him.

As his last command, he ordered them to make nice with each other. His three pets climbed onto the altar, where they hugged and kissed and licked and fingered each other, forming a pile of warm and squirming female flesh. Jordan stood in front of them, Rebecca’s lips once more sealed around his cock. Christine knelt with her ass up and her forehead touching the floor, her mother’s tongue still deep and busy in her asshole.

“Slave,” said Jordan, “I swear to make every moment of your life a living hell. I will keep coming up with new ways to hurt you, to humiliate you, and to remind you of what you really are. I will destroy every aspect of your life, until you can’t remember that you were ever anything but a piss guzzling, cum soaked slave. I can’t promise that I won’t someday get bored of you, but if the time ever comes that I let you die, I swear that you’ll thank me for it. You belong to me, now and forever.”

“Master,” said Christine, “I am honored and blessed by your loving attention. I swear to scream and cry and be miserable all my life. There is nothing greater I could ever aspire to than being your cum dump, your toilet, your punching bag, your fleshlight, and your trashcan. I deserve every moment of this nightmare because I dared to reject you, to lie to you, to not appreciate your glorious love for me. If you ever get bored of me, I can only pray that you make my last moments long and painful, and that you toss whatever is left of me in the dumpster so that I can join the other garbage. I belong to you, now and forever.”

And Christine Summers became Christine Seeler.

Part Seven - Completing the Circle

Chapter Twenty Seven

Jordan woke as he always did, with his wife’s warm breath and soft tongue on his cock. “Guhh mohhrig mastuh,” she said around him, beginning to suck in earnest now that he was awake. She had long ago learned to wake and start sucking at the slightest movement from him, so that by the time he truly woke up her mouth would already be working to please him Her sleeping position, kneeling submissively between his legs with her hands behind her back and his cockhead nestled in her mouth, couldn’t have been comfortable, but after a year of married life she’d grown as used to it as she ever would.

Once he would have been nervous about going to sleep around Christine when she wasn’t tied up, let alone leaving his cock so supremely vulnerable to her teeth if she ever worked up the courage. But he’d lost that fear during their first week of married life, when she’d tried to kill him in his sleep. She’d dislocated her own arm freeing herself from the bondage he’d left her in, and then crept to the kitchen and back as quietly as a mouse, bringing back a steak knife that she drove into his throat.

That she tried to drive into his throat, rather.

Jordan had woken some time later to find the world frozen around him and the knife just barely making contact with his skin. His powers, which he still used constantly every day, had become as natural and instinctive as breathing by now. Even in his sleep, his body had reacted to the unfamiliar contact by immediately stilling time. After very thoroughly punishing his wife for her attempt, an experience that had last weeks and left her breathlessly begging for death long before he was satisfied, he had done some careful experiments to test his involuntary reactions. Sure enough, his system reacted the same way to any danger, seen or unseen. He was, in many ways, invulnerable.

Christine’s mouth expertly coaxed out his first load of the day, and then chased it down with his piss. His wife continued sucking after she’d finished her breakfast, waiting to see if he wanted to use her like this again. Some days he did, and would spend entire mornings relaxing in bed with her skilled tongue pleasuring his cock, but today he had other things in mind, and allowed her to stop. She didn’t protest his decision - she had learned never to do that, even insincerely - but she put on a look of sad longing as she let his dick slip from her lips and crawled away to take her morning shower and then start cooking.

While she got busy in the kitchen, Jordan got up to walk the dogs. Bitch was curled up outside in the backyard, sleeping contently next to Bailey, Max, and Rufus. The choke collar kept her from venturing too far from her doghouse, which was filled with dildos and other toys, but she rarely had cause to test its length. He woke her up in the usual manner, a hard kick to her side, and she made wordless sounds of pleasure when she saw her master in front of her, the other dogs already awake and barking happily at his presence. He untied their leashes and took all four dogs on a walk around the backyard, which was spacious and had a high fence around the perimeter to prevent anyone from seeing inside.

Jordan hadn’t called Bitch by her human name since the wedding. Even her sister referred to her by that name now. Bitch would have called herself that too, but for the last nine months she’d been banned from human speech. Dogs aren’t allowed to talk, after all. This had caused confusion for a time during Bitch’s sessions alone with her sister, but Christine’s failures to understand her nonverbal commands only gave Bitch more excuses to punish her. His wife had quickly learned how to translate her sister’s growls and signals into humiliating orders.

Jordan remembered once hating Bitch with a passion, but that had been so many years ago now, and she’d been such a loyal animal since. He thought of her with something approaching genuine affection these days; she was a good dog. A dog that deserved to be beaten and starved and raped every day of her life, but a good dog nonetheless.

It took a few minutes for Bailey, Max, and Rufus to do their business. Bailey was starting to get a little up in years by now, but the two mastiffs were young and full of energy. Bitch dutifully cleaned up after them each time, up to and including using her tongue as toilet paper. Only when all three boys were done did she lift her own leg, and soon her piss and shit joined everyone else’s in her stomach. Jordan opened a can of wet food for each of the boys and refilled their communal bowl of dry. All three of them eagerly munched on their breakfasts while Bitch waited patiently behind them. Her breakfast, aside from what she’d already gathered, would be what she could scrape from their food bowls after they were done.

Before the other two had finished their breakfast, Max had already mounted their pack bitch, his tail wagging happily from his perch on her back. Bitch moaned as the mastiff’s thick knot penetrated her pussy, thrusting her hips back and forth against her furry lover. Jordan rarely fucked her himself these days: she enjoyed it too much. But between the three canines, there was more often than not a hard cock ready to use her. Bailey finished his own breakfast and flopped on his side in front of her, panting as he waited for her mouth to close around him, and Rufus paced around the three of them, impatient for his own turn. If Jordan knew his boys, it would be several hours before Bitch got to eat her dog food. He left them to it.

Inside, Christine had finished making his breakfast, and it smelled as amazing as ever. She hadn’t had much cooking experience when they were first married, but he’d found ways to encourage her, like burning her tits black on the stove for overcooking his steak, or making her chop a few fingers off for unevenly sliced vegetables. She’d learned to be an expert in no time. He sat down the kitchen table to enjoy his meal while she took her usual position beneath, his cock back between her lips, this time deepthroating him. Water still dripped off of her from the shower. He didn’t allow anything toxic in the house that could be used to poison him, like cleaning supplies, but you could never be careful, so he gave tiny bits of his meal to his wife, pushing it into her mouth alongside his cock. The end scraps would be hand fed to Bitch later as well. Jordan knew there was a chance Christine would consider killing herself an acceptable price for poisoning him, but she would never sacrifice her sister in the process. Besides, even if she did try, the chance of it killing him was only slightly higher than a more direct method. A few months ago they’d gotten some bad chicken from a Chinese takeout, and that had been enough to trigger his powers and freeze time. He’d thrown up the contents of his stomach in the bathroom, and then rewound time to make Christine eat his share of takeout as well, so he could enjoy the way his wife perspired and wept afterward while she’d endured food poisoning and some hard fucking at the same time.

While Jordan ate, he got out his phone so he could check out Nadine’s newest video. She’d produced more than four hundred by now, each one as hilariously humiliating as she’d promised. He was beginning to think she might actually survive another year. Yesterday, she’d showed off the piss popsicle she’d been making in her spare time by pissing in a hollow dildo every day. She’d left it in the freezer all night, then carefully extracted the icy, penis-shaped slab of urine from its container before happily licking and sucking on it for a while. Today, she crouched over a bucket and masturbated with it, cumming audibly on camera while pumping her cunt with her own frozen chunk of piss, not stopping until the thing had melted down to a tiny lump too small to play with. She popped that in her mouth to finish off while showing the camera the liquids she’d collected in the bucket. “Tune in tomorrow,” she said with a smile, “when I’ll have a new piss-and-cunt-juice flavored popsicle to try!”

The combination of the video and Christine’s tight throat made Jordan finish for the second time that day, shooting his wife’s second helping of breakfast into her stomach. He occasionally fed her meals that weren’t cum, but it was rare, and usually only as a treat for good behavior. Three nights ago, for example, she’d impressed him by managing to cum while being ass fucked and without touching her pussy or clit. He’d rewound it away, because she didn’t deserve memories of pleasure, but afterward he made sure to describe in full detail what a good anal slut she’d been for him. As a reward, her dinner had been a can of cold ravioli dumped in the toilet for her to fish out. He’d fucked her ass again while she’d bobbed for soggy pasta, and her dessert had been his shit covered cock.

Cum wasn’t enough to live on, and that meant she starved to death from time to time. Just three weeks ago, he’d locked her up in her room (a dog cage in their closet) while he’d taken a little vacation to Atlantic City. He’d spent two days there enjoying the glamour and fresh pussy, only to come home and find Christine’s body, her fingers bloody from trying to force the lock open. But like always, all he had to do was rewind a few days (making sure that she didn’t forget a moment), and spend some time force feeding her. Good as new.

“Today is a special day, slave,” he told Christine while she licked his softening cock in the hopes of another helping. “Do you remember why?”

“Mmm hmmm,” she said, still focused on his dick. “Mommy’s moving in.”

**********

It had been a rough couple of years for Helen. First had been everything with Christine and Rebecca. Then her marriage had fallen apart. And finally, to add insult to injury, she’d lost her job.

But Helen felt like her life was finally looking up. Divorcing Randall had been one of the best decisions she’d ever made, even if it had caused a lot of stress in the short term. Sometimes it was hard to remember why she’d ever fallen in love with the man in the first place. He was indecisive, impulsive, and far too soft with their girls, which meant she’d always had to pick up the slack. Whenever there were hard decisions to be made, Helen was the one who had to be the bad guy.

While evicting Randall from her life had helped her breathe easier, her true good fortune was her wonderful son-in-law. God bless Jordan. She didn’t know what any of them would’ve done if he hadn’t been willing to overlook Christine’s... difficulties. Her daughter hadn’t even been able to finish high school, and it was unlikely she’d ever be able to hold a job, not with the way she acted. There were times when Helen almost asked him why, why someone with as bright a future as him would ever choose someone like her daughter. But she’d always been careful to hold her tongue. For one, she was terrified the question might make him come to his senses and call things off. For another... she had seen glimpses of the filthy videos Christine liked to make. If Jordan was still willing to be with someone like that, it meant her sexual deviancy was probably a plus for him, not a negative. She had no desire to hear what she was 90% certain was the honest answer: “because your daughter is an insatiable nymphomaniac with a BDSM fetish.”

Putting aside what might go on in their bedroom, which was really none of her business, Jordan had been the best thing that could ever have happened to the Summers family. Just providing for Christine would have been impressive enough, but he had so graciously offered to care for Rebecca as well. Neither of her girls would have to work a day in their lives thanks to his generosity. And now...

“Is that your only bag, Miss Summers?” he asked as she rolled the suitcase in behind her.

“Yes,” she replied, “almost everything I kept from the house is still in storage. I only brought a few things for now, mostly sentimental items, and some clothes.” Helen smiled at him. “And Jordan, you don’t have to call me Miss Summers! Helen will do just fine, or even Mom. You’re part of the family now.”

Jordan grinned back at her. He’d always been a small, scrawny child, and he’d turned into a small, scrawny adult, but he looked remarkably mature for his age. If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought he was in his mid twenties. “Thanks Mom!”

Helen suppressed a flinch at hearing the familiar term come out of his mouth. It made her feel bad that she’d always found the boy somewhat, well... repulsive was a strong term, but it fit. Ever since he was a child, something about him had made her skin crawl. She’d nearly ordered Christine to stop hanging out with him more than once. Thank God she’d always held back. “I promise this won’t be for long,” she assured him. “Just while I’m between jobs. I already have several promising leads.” It was embarrassing to have to do this at all, but she had little choice. Randall had gotten custody of the house. She’d found an apartment to stay in for the last few months, but her savings had started to evaporate from the moment she was laid off.

“Like I said when I first made the offer,” Jordan told her, “you’re welcome to stay with us as long as you like. I’d be happy if you moved in permanently, even. Taking care of three women isn’t much harder than two.”

This time Helen couldn’t stop the flinch, and quickly tried to cover it with another smile. Christine couldn’t hope for better than being a housewife with all her needs taken care of, and poor Becky would require assisted living for years, possibly the rest of her life. But Helen had always considered herself a strong, independent woman. She wasn’t going to just stay here living on someone else’s dime forever. Especially not when that someone was Jordan. She idly wondered if her bedroom door would have a lock on it, then chided herself for being silly. As though he would ever try something with her.

“Anyway, let me show you to your room,” Jordan told her. “It’s just down this hall, right next to the master bedroom.” Helen followed behind him, marveling at the size of his home. It was gigantic, everything stylish and modern. Living here wouldn’t be so bad after all. Maybe she really should consider his offer to make this more than temporary... she shook her head. No, of course not, right?

“Here you are!” Jordan said, and indicated the door to her room with a flourish. “Your new bedroom awaits!”

Helen opened the door, and couldn’t stop a small chuckle. The house really was huge; even its owner had gotten lost. “I think we must have gotten a little turned around,” she told him, trying not to make him feel bad for his mistake. He’d led her to a bathroom, and an unfinished one at that, with only a shower and sink. There was a second door on the side, which must lead to the master bedroom he’d mentioned.

“Really?” Jordan asked, and peered around her. “Nope, that’s your room!”

Helen laughed politely at the bad joke. “Yes, I suppose I’ll just sleep in the sink,” she told him, trying to play along. “And hang my clothes up in the shower.”

“Don’t be silly,” Jordan said with a grin. “You’re not going to have any clothes.”

She didn’t try to stop the grimace. “I don’t appreciate that kind of humor, young man. If you-“

Jordan slapped her.

Helen stared at him in shock, one hand rising up to her face. He’d just-

He slapped her again.

Helen’s survival instincts kicked in at the point, and she spun around and scrambled down the hall towards the front door. She’d only gone a few steps when Jordan’s arm was suddenly around her waist, and the boy was dragging her back towards the bathroom.

“This wasn’t an easy decision,” he told her as she kicked and fought. “One of the things I’ve always loved about you, Miss Summers- sorry, Mom- has been that tight virgin ass of yours. Half the reason I kept you in the dark for so long is that it always feels so good to bust it open.”

Jordan gave her a push that sent her sprawling to the bathroom floor, then entered the room himself, standing between her and the open exit. “But when I heard you were leaving that old daughter fucker Randall, I just couldn’t let the opportunity pass by. I honestly thought it would take much longer to get you fired, but I guess you weren’t any more popular at work than you were at home. I barely had to manipulate things at all.”

“Jordan, stop,” Helen said firmly, trying to regain control over the situation. “I understand that you have a... “complicated” relationship with my daughter, and that she likes you to do certain things and treat her in certain ways. But I am not Christine, and this is not okay!”

Her statement seemed to amuse the boy. “Complicated relationship, huh? Why don’t I help simplify it? Christine is my slave.”

Helen shuddered. “That...what the two of you get up to at night is none of my business, and I’m more than happy to keep it that way. But that doesn’t mean-“

Jordan’s laughter interrupted her. “God, between you and Randall, it’s a mystery to me why my wife isn’t as much of a drooling idiot as her sister. Let me start from the beginning. About two years ago -for you anyway- I tied Christine up in her own bedroom and raped her. She was a virgin, if that sort of thing matters to you, and I left four hot loads in that wet fuckhole. Sometimes I think that’s still the best sex I’ve ever had. Nothing like your first time, right?”

Helen just stared at Jordan, having difficulty processing what he was saying. He’d... he’d done what…? “At the time I didn’t call it rape,” he admitted. “Had all kinds of excuses to justify turning your little girl into a cum sponge. But I like to think I’ve learned to be more honest with myself over the years. I raped the shit out out of Christine, Miss Summers, and I loved every moment of it.”

Helen crawled backwards to get as far away from him as she could, not stopping until her back hit the wall. Her mind was whirling, trying to work through the implications of what he was saying. If he’d raped Christine, then... then...

“Taught her how to suck dick just a couple days later,” Jordan said nostalgically. “She’s always been a quick learner when it comes to things like that. Then a little later, after that totally false rape accusation of hers fell apart, I started to really treat her the way she deserves. Making her eat shit, suck off her dog, give me her anal virginity...” he sighed happily. “You know, I never thought I’d end up with so many good memories of high school.”

Helen pushed herself shakily up to her feet, using the wall as support. “D-don’t touch me…” she said, raising her arms up in a vague stance to protect herself. “I-I-I won’t…” The other exit was right next to her, the one that led into the master bedroom. She grabbed the knob, but the door was locked and refused to budge.

Jordan ignored her. He seemed eager to talk, the words coming out almost too quickly for her to understand. “I had such a good time with your daughter for months. Feeding her my cock at lunchtime, spending every night making her bounce on my dick. Even back then, Christine was already a great fucktoy. And then her sister! Such an annoying cunt at first, but she really improved after I fucked her brains out, and I mean that in every possible sense. That was around the time I started really fucking with Christine, publicly destroying her life beyond just being known as the kinky girl who fapped at school until she got gangraped. I made her skip classes so her own sister could torture and rape her. I made her skip meals just to add that little desperate edge of hunger in her voice every time she begged to gobble my cum. I made her film porn out of her bedroom and fuck her own father and sleep with every guy in class and be the prom glory hole. And would you like to know the best part, Miss Summers? The part that made everything I did to her so perfect?”

Helen shook her head warily, still trying to wrap her head around all of this. Jordan was some kind of, of, some kind of something, and he’d been doing this for two years? She thought back to Christine’s behavior since she first started acting out. The way she seemed so morose and depressed all the time, shutting herself up in her room, rarely eating or talking. Even things like her sister’s accident or failing twelfth grade had seemed to barely affect her All that time she’d been dealing with this?

“The best part was you,” Jordan told her. “You never once trusted her, never once tried to reach out to her or really understand what was going on in her head. I forced her to come up with the most ridiculous, asinine lies to justify her behavior, and you not only swallowed every last one of them, you made her feel like garbage for it! Oh sure, I did my best to beat my slave into submission, but you were the anvil to my hammer, Mom. I couldn’t have made your daughter half as miserable without your help. Randall used to tie her up and try to drown her in cum, and somehow he’s still the better parent.”

“No…” Helen didn’t know what part she was denying. All of it. Everything. “No. You’re wrong. I… I only ever did what was best for my daughters. I’m not… You’re wrong!”

“Uh huh. You can go on living in denial all you like, Mom. I don’t care about the inside of your head the same way I do with your daughters. I just want to have fun with the outside.” Jordan stepped towards her and she tensed. She’d never been in anything like a fight before, but she wasn’t going to let him… let him… she tried to knee him in the crotch as he got closer, but he just sort of vanished. “Sorry Miss Summers,” he said, and she yelped to discover him right next to her, his mouth ny her ear and his hands playing with her breasts over her clothes. “You’ll need a lot more than that to stop me. Even bullets don’t work on me anymore. A few months ago I passed this pretty young thing by on the street, and decided to follow her home. Her father shot me in the back while I was distracted pumping a load of spunk into her cunt. After I killed him, I made her fellate the gun while I tried out her ass.”

Helen tried to shove him away, and something on her arms clinked. He’d somehow handcuffed her wrists together without her noticing. He used one hand to press her cuffed wrists above her, pinning them to the wall, while his other hand continue groping her. His leg slid between hers, trapping her up against the wall with his own body.

“There’s no need to rush this, Miss Summers,” Jordan said, and lowered his head to start kissing her neck. His hand slipped underneath her clothes and pawed at her breasts. Helen whimpered, feeling like a trapped animal as this boy half her age, who had always made her feel uncomfortable, casually played with her. “We’ve had so many first times together. So many fun nights putting you through your paces, teaching you how this sexy body of yours was always meant to be used.” His hand slipped lower, across her flat stomach and inside her pants and underwear, cupping her mound. “And this is the last one, the one that’s going to stick. So let’s take our time with it, make it something really special.” He bit her neck lightly, making her flinch.

“Jordan,” she tried, “do-*ngguh*! Her words were suddenly muffled by some sort of wadded up ball of cloth. It was warm and slightly damp.

“I told you, Miss Summers, I want to do this one right,” Jordan said. “So for starters, while you suck on your dirty panties we need to talk about how you’re going to address me from now on. Christine calls me master, and so did Bitch while she still pretended to be human, but let’s give you a different term, yeah? Something to represent that special bond between a son-in-law and his MILF fucktoy. From now on, Mom, you’re going to call me God.”

Helen spit out her panties. When had he taken them off of her in the first place? She knew they were the ones she’d been wearing, could already feel the difference as his fingers lightly tickled her slit. And how hadn’t she noticed him putting them in her mouth? She felt completely overwhelmed by what was happening. It was like she was going crazy, somehow losing time. “Listen to me, J-*mmf*!” Without warning the panties were already back in her mouth.

“I think we have a little misunderstanding,” Jordan murmured in her ear, before flicking her earlobe with his tongue. “I’m not telling you that you have to call me God, I’m saying that you will call me God. I will never allow you to address me any other way, Miss Summers, so I suggest you learn to accept it. We’ll call this first time a freebie. It was my own mistake really for not being clear. But from here on out I’ll have to try and… discourage that behavior when it comes up.” He nipped her earlobe with his teeth, and she flinched.

For a few minutes, Helen stayed still, frozen like a deer in headlights as her son-in-law explored her body with his mouth and hands. When he began slowly unbuttoning her blouse, she struggled a little, trying to evade his fingers, but a single hard slap across her cheek got her to hold still as he slowly undressed her. “You have such nice fat tits, Miss Summers,” he told her as he pushed the blouse off her shoulders, letting it fall to the ground, and started working the clasp of her bra. “Even bigger than Bitch’s, I think. A little saggy by now, sure, but that’s never mattered to me when I’ve had my cock nestled between them.” Her bra joined her blouse on the ground, and then his hand found her chest again, crushing her flesh in his grip. “That was a compliment, Mom,” he said in her ear, and gently pulled the panties out of her mouth. “What do we say when someone pays us a compliment?”

“Th-thank you…” she said nervously, and then yelped as he bit her earlobe again.

“Thank you, what?”

“Th-thank you… God…”

“Mmm,” Jordan pushed her left breast up so he could lower his head and suck on her nipple for a minute. “I think you’re going to be a quick learner, Mom. I might not have to hurt you too much.”

The implied threat made her shudder. “Please J-*mmf*”

Jordan sighed, though there was amusement in it. “Maybe I spoke too soon. But look! Your last “first” punishment. I’ll start you off with something light, so we can work our way up over the years. Hop, Miss Summers.” She gave him a blank look, not understanding. “Hop. Jump up and down like a silly little girl so I can watch your tits bounce.” When she didn’t move to obey, his fingers curled around a tuft of her pubic hair, and she screamed around her panty gag as he ripped it out. “Hop, Miss Summers,” he repeated, and there was a touch of ice in his voice now.

She hopped.

Helen felt ridiculous doing it. After he’d called attention to what it would do to her chest, it was all she could think about, the way her flesh bounced and jiggled every time she landed. After ten of them, her feet were getting sore, so she stopped, and then immediately screamed as he ripped out more of her pubic hair. “Keep going until I say so, Miss Summers.”

So she hopped. And hopped. And hopped.

After ten minutes she was breathing hard and her feet felt like she’d just gone for a long jog. After twenty, she was panting loudly, and every time her feet struck the ground she let out a small noise of pain. After an hour, she felt like she was having a heart attack, and she was increasingly certain she must have broken something in her feet. Every time she paused, more of her hair was ripped out. Usually her mound, but sometimes it amused him to rip a small chunk of it right off her head.

By the time he allowed her to stop, more than an hour and a half had passed and there was blood running down her face from several bald spots on her scalp. The only thing keeping Helen upright was Jordan’s hand gripping her hair to hold her up. Standing was agony and she couldn’t seem to get enough breath. “See?” asked Jordan lightly. “A nice easy punishment for you. If you forget again, I’ll have to think of something a little mean instead. Just a little. Do you think you’re going to forget again, Mom?”

“N-no… G-god…” Helen panted.

“Good, good. Why don’t we get you off those feet now?” She nodded gratefully. Jordan stepped to the side, standing next to the shower stall. “Over here, please.” He paused. “Oh, and don’t try to run. If you do, I’ll have to hurt you.”

Helen tried to avoid glancing at the open door that led into the hallway. He was no longer blocking her path, and she didn’t care how badly her feet hurt. She would sprint for a mile if it meant getting away from this maniac. But if he managed to catch her… her resolve wavered. He’d already hurt her so badly . If she got on his bad side again, he might outright kill her. For now, she had to cooperate. So she ignored the exit and stumbled over to the shower. “Good girl,” he said approvingly. “Arms up.”

She lifted her arms, even that minor exertion making her body protest. Jordan unlocked the cuffs around her wrists just long enough to wrap the chain around the shower curtain rod. “Now give me your foot. Yes, really. This shower rod was specially made to hold weight. I’ve had both of your daughters up on this thing before.” Standing on just one foot was far more painful than on two, and Helen fought to keep her balance as Jordan lifted her right leg up and cuffed it to the shower rod. In her younger days, a stretch like that would have been no problem, but now she felt like she was about to pull a muscle. Having her leg up also left her crotch humiliatingly exposed to Jordan, and the way he happily stared at her made her skin crawl.

“Your left leg will join that one in a minute, Miss Summers, but first we have to take care of your punishment.”

“P-punishment?” Helen asked, and then quickly amended “God?”

“Punishment,” Jordan confirmed. “I told you before, if you ran, I’d have to hurt you.”

“But… but I didn’t run, God!”

“You didn’t run after I gave you that warning,” he corrected, as though that should mean something to her. “Which shows you’re not utterly braindead. But when I didn’t warn you, you tried to dash right out that door. Just because you don’t remember doesn’t mean you get to avoid punishment.”

“I, I don’t understand, God!” Helen pleaded, knowing it was going to be useless. The boy was insane. There was no other explanation. “I didn’t run, I swear!” She groaned in pain as she bounced on one foot. Just having to stand like this was already as painful as hopping around had been.

“Are you telling me I’m wrong?” Jordan asked quietly.

Helen’s blood ran cold as she looked into his eyes and saw nothing human within them. “N-no,” she said. “I, I, I’m sorry I tried to run, God.”

Jordan nodded. “Not as sorry as you’re about to be, Mom.” And before she noticed that he’d gotten a riding crop from somewhere, he smacked her chest with it. It resounded off of her flesh with a clap like thunder, making her breasts bounce wildly. Helen cried out in pain and every instinct in her body screamed at her to run, but she was helpless, bound to the shower rod by all but one limb. He smacked her with the riding crop again and again, not sparing a single square inch of cleavage from its sting.

Helen could see herself in the bathroom mirror, and the sight made her feel even more miserable as the punishment continued. The figure hanging from the rod looked absolutely pathetic standing there on one foot, hopping in place. Seeing the ever increasing number of welts on her breasts, the way that the skin everywhere was red and inflamed, somehow made them hurt even worse. She’d never looked or felt worse in her life.

By the time Jordan stopped beating her, several epochs later, Helen had sworn to herself that she would obey his every command from now on. Anything to avoid more pain. She still didn’t understand what she’d done that had merited the riding crop, but it had to be something. Maybe when he accused her of trying to dash out the door, he meant that he’d caught her eying the exit and considering it. That made sense, right?

“I’m sorry for trying to run, God,” she said plaintively, without waiting for him to speak. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

Jordan nodded and gave her a smile. “Perhaps you really are a quick learner. Miss Summers, I’ve been thinking about your fat tits while slapping them back and forth, and I think I know a way to fix their sagginess. Would you like that?”

Though she was so exhausted she wanted to cry, Helen forced herself to nod eagerly and smile. “Yes, God, that would be great!” She wouldn’t give him any more excuses to hurt her.

Where had he gotten those zip ties? He was approaching her with two of them in his hand. “What I’m going to do,” he explained, “is wrap these around the base of your breasts and make them as tight as possible. It’s going to be tremendously painful and it will probably do permanent damage, but it will make those droopy saggy jugs of yours nice and firm again. Once these are on, you just might, and it’s hard to believe I’m even saying this, have my favorite pair of Summers tits. Does that sound like fun?”

No, it sounded horrible and terrifying and made Helen want to throw up. But if she said no, it would just mean the riding crop again, or something even worse. So instead, she forced herself to keep smiling. “Yes, please, God!”

Jordan put the first zip tie around her right breast and began to tight it slowly, one ratchet at a time. “Tell me when it gets too much, Miss Summers.” At first it was just a light sense of pressure around her breast. But with each click, the pressure increased, transforming from mere discomfort into outright pain. Helen held her tongue for as long as she could, trying to endure the pain. Soon it felt like she’d been put in a vise. It no longer hurt around just the band. The rest of her breast began to bulge, skin stretched ever tighter around it. And still Jordan kept going, click, click, click. She resisted as long as she could, until tears were streaming down her face, before finally begging. “Please God, stop, please, please! You’re killing me!”

“Hmm,” Jordan said, stopping and examining the zip tie. “So that’s your pain tolerance. We’ll need to work on that.” And then he continued ratcheting it closed, click click click, while she began to scream. He didn’t stop until he could no longer physically tighten the zip tie anymore. By then, her flesh had turned a grotesque shade of purple, and her breasts looked about as hard as rocks. Jordan tapped them experimentally, avoiding the many welts on their surface, and even that light contact ripped a howl of pain from her lungs. “Perfect!” he said happily, and repeated the entire process with the other one. Once both of them were on, he gave them each another sharp tug to make sure they were as tight as possible. “There, Mom, two firm and delicious funbags for us to play with. Isn’t that nice?”

“Yuh… yes, God…” Helen whispered. Her breasts radiated pure agony right now, and they would never recover. She was certain of it. Even if he cut the zip ties right away, she knew that they’d never fully heal. And Jordan looked like he was in no hurry to find out. He groped her chest for a few minutes, making Helen squeal and sob in pain, before stepping away. “Now where were we?” he mused.

When Helen saw him pick up the riding crop again, she felt like her heart stopped for a second. No… no…

Helen shrieked as the crop came down right on her zip tied breasts. It felt like a branding iron being driven into her flesh, and that pain continued to linger as she was struck a second time, and a third, until it felt like her entire chest was on fire, and still Jordan kept hitting her. She screamed and hopped and jiggled for what felt like hours, until she was sobbing and begging him to just rape her. Long after she’d run out of tears and lost her voice, he finally put the crop down. “Like I said,” he told her, “just a little mean.” And the bastard winked.

She was too exhausted to do anything but whimper as he began groping her again, distorting her bruised and battered flesh between his fingers. Before today, it would’ve been the greatest pain she’d ever experienced outside of childbirth. Now, she just tried to stay quiet and still, praying she wouldn’t provoke him to hurt her further. “I think I’d like to fuck you now, Helen,” he said, idly seeing how far he could pinch and tug her nipples. “How does that sound?”

“It… it… it sounds won… derful, God…”

“Doesn’t it, though? Leg up, Miss Summers.” Helen had to strain with all the energy she had left to support herself with her limbs while she raised her left leg up above her head. She felt actual gratitude towards Jordan when he applied cuffed her ankle to the shower rod and she could just relax and let her body hang in midair. Like before, he positioned her leg so that it was going nearly straight up, and her muscles immediately complained. The others in her right leg had long ago started screaming at her, and she no longer had to worry about pulling a muscle: she’d already distinct felt it happen.

Helen felt like a piece of meat as she slowly swung back and forth on the curtain rod. A seared, tenderized piece of meat. Jordan had already undressed, and he cupped her ass as he rubbed his stiff cock against her slit. “It’s tempting to jump straight to that asshole, but it’s always been my favorite hole of yours, so let’s save it for last and have a bit of fun with your cunt first, and then your mouth.”

“What.. Whatever you want… God…” Helen mumbled. His words made no sense, but they didn’t need to. She just had to obey.

“Such a good girl,” Jordan remarked. “It’s a shame you weren’t born twenty years later, Miss Summers. If you and Christine and Bitch had all been sisters and we’d grown up together, I’m certain you’d be the one using your wedding band as a tongue ring right now.”

“Th-thank you God…”

Jordan detached the shower head. “First, those tits are looking a bit red hot right now. Why don’t we cool them down?” He turned a knob on the wall, and water began spraying from it. For half a second, Helen looked forward to the idea of soothing water on her poor mammaries, but then the spray actually hit. It was as high powered as a hose and icy cold. The blonde screamed as the water jet hit her so hard it actuallypushed her suspended body backwards. “This shower has some special settings just for my slave,” Jordan yelled over the sound of the water and her screams. “This one’s what she showers in every morning, to help her wake up and get ready for a brand new day. Water’s kept at 33 degrees, just a hair above freezing. Nice and refreshing, right?”

Helen felt like her breasts were getting pummeled by fists of ice. Her teeth chattered as she tried to respond. “Y-y-y-y-yes G-g-g-g-g-od!”

“And here’s what she uses every night,” Jordan said, and turned the knob again. The water flow stopped for a second, and then restarted. Helen’s body swung forward just in time to collide with the near boiling spray aimed at her chest. “Helps disinfect all the cum and other garbage I stick in her,” he shouted as she howled. “And makes it so she’s nice and warm while she’s using my cock as a pacifier.” Her breasts felt like they were being cooked, and she could almost hear them sizzling.

He began directing the spray over the rest of her body too, alternating between freezing and boiling blasts of water. Her breasts remained a favorite target though, and there was never more than a minute where he wasn’t torturing them with the shower head. By the time he stopped, Helen felt like she’d been dragged through a car wash. Her skin everywhere, including and especially her breasts, felt red and raw. “And there’s one more special setting,” Jordan said to her in a stage whisper, as though he were confiding a great secret. “This is the one I have her use when I’m feeling a little playful.” Helen squealed as he began shoving the shower head into her dry pussy. He’d sprayed it with water a few times, but that only increased the friction as the fat metal sphere, which was still uncomfortably warm, was forced into her with no care or gentleness. It was the thickest thing she’d ever been fucked with by a large margin, and she felt like her cunt was in agony.

Then Jordan turned the knob, and Helen discovered was true agony felt like down there.

Scalding hot water seared the insides of her pussy, and if she didn’t know better, she would have thought she’d just been impaled on a burning poker. Even as the heat ripped the first scream from her lungs, the spray paused and then freezing water burst out, hitting her sensitive pussy walls with all the grace of an avalanche. Then back to hot, then back to cold, flipping back and forth every few seconds Both kinds of water would have been agony on their own, but alternating between the two somehow made each one feel worse. And the way the water kept stopping and starting, shooting a fresh hose-like jet of water each time, was like getting kicked in the crotch at regular intervals. Helen shrieked until her voice gave out, legs twitching as the water gushed out of her stuffed pussy.

“Slave!” Jordan called out after watching her for about fifteen minutes. “Come bring our Mom her housewarming gifts.”

Christine crawled in from the hall, fully naked, and the sight of her made Helen’s stomach lurch. She was gaunt from malnutrition and covered head to toe in injuries as severe as Helen’s aching breasts. Worst of all were her eyes, dead and hopeless. Her daughter looked up at her own mother, tied up, tortured, and now being raped by a shower head, and had absolutely no reaction to the sight. Helen might as well have been wallpaper for all the concern she showed. She was carrying a bucket, the handle clenched between her teeth, and she put it down with as much care and focus as disarming a bomb.

“This requires a little explaining, I think,” Jordan said, as Christine left and came back with another bucket, and another. “I have three slaves now, and I like to make all of them feel special in their own way. Christine is my slave wife, and Bitch is my slave dog. So when the possibility of making you a permanent fucktoy came up, the first thing I had to consider was what kind of slave you should be.” He grinned at her. “I have a wife, I have a dog, and now I have a toilet!”

Helen paled as Christine reached into the first bucket and pulled out a handful of wet shit that squished between her fingers. “Once I knew what you were going to be,” Jordan continued, “I called some contractors and had them remove every toilet in the house. For the last couple weeks Christine and I have been doing our business in these buckets, saving it all until we had a proper toilet again.” His grin widened. “And now you’re here.”

Helen tried to turn her head away as her daughter approached, but Christine used her other hand to grab her mother’s jaw and force her mouth open and still. “She’s going to puke after the third handful,” Jordan told her. “Then the seventh, tenth, fifteenth, and twenty sixth. Be ready.” Christine nodded and shoved her handful of human waste into the brunette’s mouth. Helen gagged as piss soaked shit filled every corner of her mouth. She instinctively tried to spit it out, but Christine was already pushing her jaw up to keep her mouth closed.

“Swallow,” Christine said, her tone flat. Helen shook her head wildly, trying not to think about the disgusting mash in her mouth. She wasn’t going to swallow. There was no force on heaven or hell that could make her swallow her daughter and son-in-law’s week old feces. It was physically impossible. “Swallow,” Christine repeated, and her voice softened ever so slightly, “or he’ll punish you again.”

Helen swallowed.

The sticky, gooey mass wouldn’t go down, and it got caught in her throat, making her choke. She thrashed, trying vainly to force it down and let her breathe, terrified that she was about to choke to death on someone’s shit. Christine nodded in understanding, then knelt and cupped her hands in one of the buckets. She came back with a small amount of piss cupped between her hands and held it up to Helen’s face. Her mother quickly opened her mouth and let Christine pour the filthy liquid in. She swallowed it down, and it didn’t clear the entire blockage in her throat, but it removed enough for her to draw a ragged breath. Then Christine was back with a second handful. This one was just as foul as the first, but she made herself gulp it down quickly. The faster she swallowed, she’d already realized, the less she’d have to taste it.

There was something different about the third handful. There was the faint taste of iron, and some physical substance she couldn’t identify, almost like a small cottony mass. She swallowed the whole thing a half second before her brain realized what it was: a tampon. She’d just eaten her daughter’s bloody tampon.

Helen retched, and everything in her stomach quickly rose up, her system eager to expel all the filth it had ingested. It rushed up her throat… and was promptly stymied by Christine’s hands, one clamped over her mouth and the other pinching her nose shut. With nowhere else to go, the same awful waste that she’d forced herself to swallow three times was now back in her mouth, bloody tampon and all.

This was hell, Helen thought, as she swallowed it all back down, knowing that it was going to keep coming back up and getting the exact same treatment every time. That was the only rational explanation. Her entire body ached, her breasts were in constant agony, she’d never been so exhausted, her pussy was being simultaneously raped, frozen, and boiled, and her own daughter was force feeding her shit. She’d died and gone to hell. Maybe if she was lucky, she thought in a daze, she’d died before Christine had ever started acting strange. Maybe they’d been a happy, loving family the entire time, and everything else was just a nightmare that would last forever.

Then she felt the tip of Jordan’s cock touch her anal ring.

“I told you I’d make our first time something special,” he told her. His hands were back on her chest, on her bruised, welted, and burned tits that still strained under the horrible compression of the zip ties. “Is it just like you imagined?” He kneaded her breasts like dough, cruelly digging his nails into them just to make her squirm. “The truth is, Mom, I’m not interested in that cunt of yours, not after the daughter fucker has been sliming it with his jizz for years. And your mouth? It would be more sanitary to stick my dick in an open sewer. I don’t plan to ever fuck either of those holes.” His cock butted up against her anal ring. Not hard enough to force its way in, but playfully, enjoying the resistance it would soon crush. “But this hole, Miss Summers? This one was made to be my cock sheathe.”

Jordan pushed, and Helen wailed around her latest mouthful of shit as he wedged his cock in her virgin ass. “Our last first time,” he whispered in her ear as his hands mauled her breasts. “Everything else is fun, but I want to make this ass rape memorable all on its own. So hold on, toilet, because your god isn’t leaving your backdoor until he’s broken it in.”

He pressed forward slowly, sinking into her just a millimeter at a time. “You’ve been on roller coasters before, right? You know that first hill, where it goes up niiiiice and slooooooow, and then suddenly you’re hurling forward? That’s what’s happening right now, Miss Summers. Every time I get a little deeper in here, imagine that little click-clack sound of your car going up that hill. Because as soon as I bottom out, we’re going to go for a ride. I’m going to pound this shithole harder than your wimp of a husband ever managed with your cunt.” His hands squeezed her breasts tighter, until she thought they were going to pop. “Ready, Miss Summers? Because here… we… go!”

Helen felt his hips slowly grind against her butt cheeks, getting every last inch of himself into here, and then he was pulling back, ripping through her guts like she was being stabbed in reverse. There was a single horrible instant where he pulled back so far that his head was stretching her anal ring again, and then he rammed himself back in, hips slamming into her butt cheeks hard enough to bruise this time. Then he did it again, again, again, again. Jordan pounded her asshole like it was a loose cum slick pussy, not a tight, dry hole that had never contained so much as a finger.

The sadistic hot and cold torture of her pussy. The endless waves of pain radiating from her breasts. The slimy, filthy, disgusting handfuls of piss soaked shit that Christine was still forcing her to swallow. Helen found herself focusing on these, trying to distract herself from the way Jordan was turning her asshole inside out. Was anal always like this? It couldn’t be. What he was doing to her felt like having an iron pipe shoved up her guts, one that raked her insides out each time it was pulled out. No one could possibly enjoy the experience.

“Would you like to know the trick to it?” Jordan asked as he continued churning butter in her guts. “You have Christine to thank. For years now, I’ve been fucking her pussy dry at least a few times a week. It was painful for me too at first, but sometimes you really want to fuck the shit out of your slave and don’t feel like waiting for her to play with herself. So this stiff cock in you now, the one that’s able to happily pulverize your bowels, it was trained by your daughter’s tight unwilling pussy.”

Helen couldn’t care less about her daughter at the moment. All she cared about was making it stop. Making everything he was doing to her stop. “Pleeaaaaaase!” she howled. “Pleeeeeease God, make it st-*gughagh*” Her plea for mercy was interrupted by a new handful from Christine. She choked, gagged, and then she was vomiting again. It was the fourth time by now, and it had no more success than the others, accomplishing nothing but make her swallow again what she’d already gone through.

Jordan laughed as though she’d just told a hilarious joke. “Sorry, sorry,” he said once he’d calmed down, never slowing down in his destruction of her rectum. “But I wouldn’t waste my breath if I were you. I’m the only God in your life anymore, and I don’t have any mercy to spare for filthy toilets, Miss Summers. All I have to offer is lots of hard cock, and a cum enema in your future.”

Helen was certain that she couldn’t survive one more minute of this degrading, horrific torture. But another minute went by and she was still there.

And another five.

And another ten.

Jordan had been treating her guts like a cheap fleshlight for more than two hours by the time Christine finished the first bucket and moved on to the second.

That one was more full, and took her five hours and another eighteen aborted attempts to vomit. And still Jordan was filling and stretching and pounding her asshole, never slowing down. If anything, he’d sped up once she’d started bleeding more profusely, taking advantage of the lubrication it offered.

At hour six she could no longer control her bladder and pissed herself. None of it hit the floor; Jordan had somehow warned Christine about it five minutes prior, and she had one of the buckets ready.

“Whyyyyy?” she begged during hour nine. “Whyyyyyyyy, God, whyyyyyy?!” She didn’t even know which God she was referring to anymore. To her exhausted, agony stricken mind, it was getting hard to remember that there was a difference.

“Because I can,” God told her. “Because to you it’s been nine straight hours, but I’ve taken a few naps, eaten a couple times, even went for a walk to stretch my legs and get some fresh air less than ten minutes ago.”

“I don’t… I don’t understand…” she said weakly. Why couldn’t he ever make sense?

“That’s okay, Miss Summers,” God said. “You don’t ever have to understand. I like you this way. I don’t think Christine ever saw me do anything she couldn’t figure out within five minutes, but you’re just too fucking stupid, aren’t you? I’m doing the world a favor by turning you into a toilet.”

“I’m sorry,” she whined. “I’m sorry, God, I’m sorry…”

God laughed at her. “No, you’re not, Miss Summers. Not yet. Sorry is what you’re about to be, when I tell you that there’s still another six buckets for Christine to bring in, and I’m not going to end this ass rape until you’ve gone through your entire backlog like a good toilet.”

Something inside of Helen broke at that news. No, this had to be almost over. God had to be lying. He had to!

He wasn’t.

An unfamiliar sound brought Helen back to wakefulness. She hadn’t been asleep, not really. Just… out of it. More of an animal than a person, who had no conscious thought beyond wordless screaming. She couldn’t hope to sleep for real, not when every inch of her body was in agony. Being hung by her wrists and ankles had seemed like such a minor discomfort when everything had first started, but time had not been kind. She’d lost feeling in her feet hours ago, and her legs had taken on a nauseating, bone deep ache that she’d never known before. Her hands hadn’t gone to sleep yet, but her wrists had been chafed bloody by the cuffs, and she’d dislocated both her shoulders trying to escape during one of her less lucid moments.

Her breasts… there had been a time when they were a mass of individual aches. When she could feel each welt of the riding crop, the squeeze of the zip ties, each finger that poked and prodded and tortured her nipples. But now they were just pain. A solid block of pain that seemed to have no source, and only grew stronger with each passing second. She vaguely remembered begging God more than once to just cut them off of her so that they would stop hurting. That he still hadn’t was one of his cruelest acts yet.

Hours ago, the shower head had almost slipped out of her, her pussy so stretched and ruined by the constant gushing water that it no longer had the friction to hold it in. After that, Christine had been given a new task: to fuck Helen with the shower head herself. Her daughter steadily pumped it in and out of her loose pussy, causing the water streams to hit places that they hadn’t been able to reach when it was stationary. She was certain that her hole was going to be permanently unusable after this. If she was lucky.

Christine hadn’t stopped doing her original task either. Helen barely noticed each new mouthful of piss and shit she was given to swallow. So much of it was caked to her teeth and tongue and cheeks that it was a constant revolting taste and texture in her mouth. God had actually shown her a rare bit of mercy. After about twelve hours, her stomach was so bloated that he’d decided to let her throw up for once. It had all gone into its own bucket, and he had promised that she would eventually digest every last bit of it, no matter how many times she had to puke it up in the process.

Helen could still see herself in the bathroom mirror. She wished that she couldn’t. She really, really wished she couldn’t. She tried to close her eyes sometimes, but it never worked for very long. Pain and adrenaline would overcome her reason and her eyes would snap open eventually to see the figure hanging by the shower rod. She was a mangled wreck of a creature whose breasts looked like balloons about to pop, whose limbs were twisted and discolored, whose face was coated in shit, and whose pussy gaped and sputtered like some alien creature. The figure in the mirror wasn’t human. No human being could ever look that wretched.

The unfamiliar sound returned, an electronic beep. “That’s my alarm,” said God cheerfully, still pushing and pulling and scraping and drilling inside her. “Twenty four hours, Miss Summers! How are you feeling after an entire day of anal rape?”

“…help…me…” she whispered. “…please…god…”

“God helps those who help themselves,” he reminded her. “Look, there’s only one bucket left. Instead of making your daughter hand feed you, why don’t you show some initiative? Slave, pour what’s left of your mother’s welcome meal into a bowl so she can dig into it herself.”

Helen stared at the heaping bowl of excrement her daughter was holding up. Once it was gone, it would be over… she just had to eat that and the pain would stop… she buried her face into it, chewing with as much energy as she could work up. She felt the cold slime of it all over her face as she slurped it up, gulping it down as quickly as she could. Her stomach rebelled at the pace and it all came back up, now with acidic stomach bile mixed in, but she just kept going, swallowing and vomiting and swallowing some more. When she’d forced it all into her stomach she started licking the bowl clean. Even in her half mad frenzy, she never lost sight of how disgusting her meal was, or how pathetic she was in gobbling it up like she did. No wonder God hated her.

“Almost there, Miss Summers,” God told her as he continued fucking her to death. “Only one last thing. Tell me how much you want my cum in your ass. And make really believe it.”

“I-I do!” she gasped. If it meant an end to this torture, there was nothing in the world she wanted more. “Please give me your cum, God! Please! Cum in my ass! I need your cum in my ass, God! Pleaaaaase God, please, I need it! I need your hot cum in my guts, pleeaaaase!”

She felt his cock, whose dimensions had become as familiar to her by now as her own face, swell slightly, and then something warm and slimy was erupting from it, painting the insides of her ruined asshole. He was cumming in her. God was cumming in her! “Thank you God!” she screamed. “Thank you for your cum! I love your cum! I love it in my ass!” She continued babbling her thanks as he basted her guts with his sticky seed. It burned and itched and it was the greatest act of kindness she’d ever known.

Helen began to sob with relief when she felt his cock grow soft and slip out of her. The moment he did, Christine rushed over to take it into her mouth and begin sucking it clean. It was over, it was finally over. God slapped her ass. “You’re a good fuck, Mom. Don’t let anyone ever tell you different. Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling a bit famished, so I’m going to grab a bite to eat.” She barely heard his words, so overcome with joy, but it gradually sank into her brain that he’d pushed Christine’s head off of his shaft and was walking away, leaving the bathroom, without taking her down or releasing her breasts or even turning off the shower head.

“Wait,” she croaked, desperate to get his attention. She was so close to not being in pain anymore. “Pleeaaase God, this hurts so much. I’m sorry bad I was bad, God, I’m so sorry. Please let me down!”

God cocked his head. “Why bother?” he asked, sounding genuinely puzzled. “I’m just going to fuck your ass again when I’m done eating.” And then He turned and left.

**********

Helen couldn’t wait to start being a toilet.

Everything still hurt, even after being let down. According to God, she’d hung up there for a week. None of God’s later ass fucks were anywhere near as long as the first had been, but he’d made up for that in quantity. He’d taken her back there dozens of times, shooting load after load into her until her cheeks were coated with it and little spurts came out every time his cock thrust into her. A week of nearly nonstop anal rape, on top of all the others tortures. She’d prayed to him that he would at least leave her mouth alone, but when he’d come back to begin her second rape, the first thing he did was order Christine to fetch bags of horse manure from the garage.

But all that was over. She was still in agony, but it was over. The pulsing shower head was no longer in her pussy. His cock was no longer in her ass. Soon, maybe he’d even take the zip ties off her breasts.

“Being a toilet is simple, Miss Summers,” said God as he got her into position. She knelt in the empty space where the porcelain toilet must have once been, hands submissively in her lap. “Tilt your head back, all the way, yes, just like that. And now open your mouth as wide as it will go. Congratulations, Miss Summers, you’re now a toilet. All you have to do is stay like that.” He reached behind her and pushed something into her pussy, which was still gaping open. “Whenever you’re about to slip up, that will remind you.”

Having her head so far back that she was looking up at the ceiling felt awkward at first, but Helen quickly found that it was more comfortable than it appeared. What really helped was a small cushioned wedge sticking out of the wall behind her. It had looked strange, but she could rest the back of her head against it like a pillow.

Helen could no longer see God with her head like this, but soon his bare ass soon appeared in her line of sight. She flinched as he sat down on her face, her nose buried in his sweaty balls. He was resting all of his weight on her, and the cushioned wedge support was the only thing that stopped her neck from snapping. She couldn’t see anything with his butt squashing her head, but she felt his cock sitting limp in her mouth. God didn’t say anything before he started pissing. He just did it, his stream of piss shooting out and striking the back of her throat. Helen quickly realized that she couldn’t breathe, not with her nose against his scrotum and his urine in her mouth. She instinctively swallowed, gulping down his piss as quickly as she could and praying that he would finish before she drowned.

She made it, but her chest was heaving by the time his stream dwindled and stopped. “A toilet should always be grateful to be of service,” God warned.

“Th-thank you for your piss, God,” Helen said immediately.

To her disgust, God shifted forward a few inches, so that his balls now rested on her chin and his asshole was resting on her mouth. “Don’t bite,” God told her. “Just let it all slide down your throat like a good toilet.” And then he began to push.

When she’d swallowed all of it, and lapped his dirty asshole with her tongue until it was completely clean, only then did he stand back up, alleviating the painful pressure on head. “Thank you for… for shitting in my mouth, God,” Helen told him. He didn’t acknowledge her words, or thank her for the disgusting act she’d just done for him. God washed his hands and left the room, closing the door behind him, like it had been a perfectly normal trip to the bathroom.

Helen waited to see if it was a test, if he was just waiting to rush back into the room and abuse her some more. She knelt there, body tense as she waited for his next assault. A couple minutes passed. A couple more. She was starting to develop a crick in her neck, even with the cushion for support, and she decided to lower it to a more comfortable position now that she was alone. She would resume the proper one the instant he returned.

Before she’d actually moved, jolting pain ran through her entire body, coming from her crotch. It was excruciating, and it made her body shake and her limbs twitch, and it kept going. She was being electrocuted, she dimly realized. Whatever he’d put inside her was electrocuting her to death. She thought about reaching back and pulling it out, and a second later the intensity magnified, nearly making her bite her tongue off. For several minutes she writhed in place, trying to scream for help. If anyone heard her wheezing cries, they didn’t do anything about it.

There was only one solution she could think of, one possibility that might make the pain stop. Helen forced herself back onto her knees, the procedure agonizingly slow, put her hands in her lap, and leaned her head back, adopting the proper toilet position God had shown her.

And immediately the pain vanished. Helen breathed out in relief. She’d figured it out. All she had to do was stay like this and she’d be fine. She didn’t know how she’d triggered the device before she even moved, but that didn’t matter. She just had to stay still.

At first, it was easy enough. Her legs ached and her neck was killing her, but they were nothing compared to the penalty for moving. So she waited. And waited. And about an hour later,she thought about moving her leg slightly. It had gone numb, and she just wanted to give it a little relief. But once again, before she even moved, she found herself being electrocuted. Already in position, she could do nothing but hold still and pray for it to be over. After a couple seconds that felt like an eternity, her prayers were answered and the pain vanished.

For the next few hours, despite her best efforts to behave Helen encountered this phenomena repeatedly. Any attempt to move resulted in horrible pain. And what terrified her was that it always happened before she could actually do it. She’d eventually noticed the surveillance camera in the corner that must be letting him watch her, but it made no sense that he could punish her faster than she could move. Yet he did, over and over. Even thinking about closing her mouth was enough to trigger the torture device inside her.

There was only one logical solution she could think of, as she knelt there perfectly still in the bathroom, ignoring the way every part of her body cried out her to move: He really was God. It explained everything, all the impossible things that had happened since she’d entered the house. Her son-in-law was God, and she was His toilet.

After three or four hours, the bathroom door opened and Christine crawled in. Her daughter sat on her face and did her business, and Helen said her thanks like she was supposed to: “Thank you for your piss, Christine.” “Thank you for shitting in my mouth, Christine.”

Her daughter washed her hands and began to crawl out of the room, but then stopped at the door, where the sink would be blocking the surveillance camera. She turned her head and mouthed “I’m so sorry Mom”.

Helen knew she shouldn’t say anything back, but she was already so tired and hurting that she couldn’t stop her immediate visceral reaction. “You should be!” she spat. “This is all your fault! All of it! You introduced that, that, that to our family!”

Christine recoiled from her words, white faced and shaking. “I-I…”

“Was someone talking to the toilet?” God asked from out in the hall, sounding amused. “Did that naughty little wife of mine just break the rules? I thought I’d made it very clear that she was never to talk to the toilet, didn’t I?”

Christine spun to face him. “No!” she begged. “No, please master, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to! Your slave was just being stupid!” She was still pleading for forgiveness when God grabbed her by the hair and dragged her out of the room and out of sight. The bed next door started creaking, and Christine started screaming.

Helen resumed her position and waited, listening to God rape her daughter just a few feet away. It was the closest thing she’d felt to happiness in a long time.

**********

God’s toilet sat quietly in her home, waiting to be used.

According to God, she’d been His toilet for five and a half months. She had no way of knowing if He was wrong or right; there were no windows or clocks in her world. But of course He was right; He was God.

She hoped He would show up and feed her soon. She was very hungry. God’s toilet was always very hungry. She lived almost entirely on what God and Christine deposited in her mouth. More often than not she shook with hunger, perpetually on the verge of collapse. But God was all knowing and generous, and would always show up to give her just enough human food to keep going for a few more days. What he provided was invariably stale, moldy, and encrusted with dried cum. She savored every bite.

Occasionally God gave her the honor of accepting His holy cock into her unworthy asshole. He would hang her up from the shower rod, or bend her over the sink, or just lay down and have her crawl into His lap. There had been a time, back when she’d still been very stupid and didn’t understand how toilets worked, that she’d thought He might someday bring her to His bed, or outside, or anywhere other than the small room that she knelt in twenty four hours a day. Her foolishness amused her now: she was a toilet, and toilets belonged in the bathroom. Taking His cock into her body was always so terribly painful, because He was a glorious God and she was a disgusting shit filled toilet. She would apologize to Him while He made love to her guts, begging His forgiveness for being so worthless. It always seemed to amuse Him. And because He was such a kind, loving God, He would often reward her piousness by making love again and again, filling her grateful bowels with His divine seed.

He never let His holy cock touch her mouth, save to piss in it, and with good reason: it was far more filthy than her asshole had ever been. Every few weeks Christine would go at it with a toilet brush, scraping all the old gunk off, but it would soon be just as gross as before. When He was done making love to her shithole, she wasn’t allowed to clean Him. That privilege always went to Christine. Her daughter would carefully lick and suck all of the shameful filth God’s toilet had left on Him, and then she would spit it into her mother’s mouth. Sometimes, when she was very very lucky, she could taste His cum through the familiar bitterness of her own shit.

God’s toilet could feel her bladder straining, and her guts as well. Soon she would loose them both onto the floor. That was the only time she was allowed to break position, so that she could clean up after herself, scrubbing the floor with her tongue until there was no trace left. She didn’t know if thinking about moving at any other time would trigger the pain; she hadn’t tried it in weeks. Once she’d accepted that she was a toilet and not a person, it became much easier to ignore her body’s foolish demands. Toilets were supposed to be in pain. They were supposed to be hungry, and cold, and terrified, and nauseated, and half dead. That just meant that everything was right in the world.

It was quiet in the house. God had been raping her daughter not long ago, which meant they were probably both sleeping, and it would be hours yet before He showed up to feed her. God’s toilet would be asleep herself, but her hunger pangs were keeping her awake. This was her life now. Hours, days, weeks, months, sitting still and quiet and staring at the ceiling, her vigil interrupted only by swallowing piss or shit, or God making passionate love to her asshole. Sometimes both at the same time. God’s toilet kept her hands in her lap, her legs folded beneath her, her head back, and her mouth open, as she waited to be used, however long that might take. She was a good toilet.

Chapter Twenty Eight

Kelly woke up screaming from the oddest and worst nightmare she’d ever had. It had been so realistic, and her recollection of it so fresh and vivid, that for the first minute or so she didn’t even know where she was, and hyperventilated in a state of sheer panic, clawing at her blankets and sheets for protection. But finally it sunk in that she was safe at home, in her own bed, and she deflated, all the tension leaving her body as she flopped back down onto her pillow. Just a dream. Thank God it had just been a dream...

It had begun with her “waking up” that day. She’d showered, dressed, eaten breakfast, driven to work... like most dreams, it had all felt completely real to her at the time. It hadn’t started going off the rails until the monster showed up.

He hadn’t looked like a monster at first, just some creepy nerdy guy in the parking garage. She’d noticed him standing there, silently staring at everyone who passed by. All the women, that is. And of course, when he saw her, things changed. “I think you’re the one,” he’d told her, looking her up and down like she was a piece of meat. Kelly had tried to just ignore him and walk by like everyone else, but he’d grabbed her arm. “Yes, I think I found a good one this time,” he’d said. “Plump ass, great tits, cute face... very fuckable.” She didn’t know what it said about her subconscious that she’d descrie herself like that in a dream, but at the time she’d just tried to pull her arm away from him.

And then the son of a bitch had tased her. She’d never experienced it in real life and had no idea what it actually felt like, but the dream version had hurt like hell. She’d collapsed to the cement, still shaking and twitching, and he’d just grabbed hold of one of her ankles and started dragging her away, not caring how the rough ground scraped her limbs and tore at her clothing. “Need a test drive, of course,” he’d told her. “Make sure your insides are nice and tight.”

There had been other people around, but they had just stared as the monster hauled her towards the van. It was large and had no windows in the back, the kind of stereotypical vehicle that strangers offering children candy would drive. He’d opened the back doors, tossed her in, and climbed in beside her. “Get moving, slave!” he’d shouted, and the van had rumbled to life, pulling out of the parking spot and leaving the garage.

Kelly should have realized right then and there that she was dreaming. She felt silly for not figuring it out despite the absurd setting. The inside of the van must have been inspired by every horror movie and weird rapey porn video she’d ever seen. There had been dildos and handcuffs and whips and more, much of it far too twisted to be real. Most glaring of all, the thing that really should have triggered her common sense, was the dog girl.

She was naked, crouched on all fours, and might have been a rather pretty blond girl if she wasn’t covered in dirt and reeking of canine. She had a pair of fake dog ears that were grotesquely sewn to her head, and a fake dog tail similarly sewn to her backside, just above her asshole, that curved up and wagged from side to side as she wiggled her ass. She was missing an eye, and there was a huge gap in her teeth. Most frightening of all, though Kelly hadn’t noticed it at first, was the massive strap-on swinging between her legs.

Dream Kelly had been terrified and tried to get up, but the monster had tased her again, the sensation as painful as before. By the time she’d recovered, she was trapped. Her arms were behind her and above her head, cuffed to a hook in the interior roof. She was on her knees leaning forward, all of her weight on her bound arms. Her legs had been spread and cuffed to the sides of the van with enough slack to move them around only slightly.

The really amusing thing, in hindsight, was that at that point she actually had wondered if she was dreaming. The scenario had been so ridiculous that even while asleep she’d doubted its validity. But it had all felt so real, and she’d foolishly decided that it was. She’d started yelling for help, screaming at the top of her lungs.

The monster had chuckled as he began removing her clothing. “I’d take it easy on that throat if I were you. It’s about to get enough of a workout as is, and the van is soundproofed.” She’d struggled, but he’d peeled her shirt off and removed her bra. Her jeans he’d just pulled down along with her panties, pooling them around her knees and exposing her crotch. “You can blame Bitch for this, by the way,” the monster had told her as he stripped her. “She finished going through everyone she knew a long time ago, and she’s in no state to persuade strangers to follow her home anymore, but that’s no reason to stop our little weekly tradition, right?”

Everything up to that point had been weirder and scarier than any other dream she remembered, but the real nightmare had started when he pulled his cock out. He’d slapped it against her face a few times and then tugged her lower lip down with his fingers so he could rub his head over the underside. “You’re better off not biting,” he’d told her. “Go ahead and try if you want to, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Then he’d taken hold of her chin, pulled it down, and slipped his cockhead into her open mouth.

She’d bit down. Hard. Kelly was many things, but a coward wasn’t one of them. Anyone who thought she’d be some meek lamb they could rape would be sorely disappointed. She’d ground her teeth like she’d rip his filthy penis right off his body.

Unfortunately, because it was a nightmare, it hadn’t worked. He was suddenly out of her mouth, grinning at her, and where his dick had been an instant ago was now a thick metal brick. Before she’d realized what she was doing, some of her teeth had cracked and broken against the unyielding metal, causing sharp spikes of agony all through her mouth. Kelly didn’t know how her brain had managed to even imagine that much pain. She’d screamed, not for help this time but just in pure wordless pain and terror, and he’d laughed at her. “Stupid slut,” he’d said with something like affection, and then the metal brick was gone and she was tasting his filthy cock again, mixed with her own blood. “Go ahead and try again if you really don’t like having teeth. Or just let one of those jagged ones you’ve got now scratch me, and I’ll smash them all out of your mouth myself.”

Lying in bed now, Kelly couldn't resist checking that her teeth were all there and undamaged. They were, of course, but at the time it had felt unbelievably real. She’d been so scared after that that she hadn't dared to bite, even when the gritty foul taste of him hit her tongue. She wasn't any kind of slut, but she'd sucked dicks before, and his had been, well, literally the stuff of nightmares, greasy and slimy and bitter. She'd gagged at the taste and nearly lost her breakfast. Even now, the thought of it made her feel ill.

The monster had grinned at her reaction and said "Sorry about the taste. Bitch was feeling a little needy this morning so I gave her ass a bit of love. You don't mind cleaning her shit off of me, right?" She'd been so horrified and disgusted at the idea of licking excrement off someone’s prick that she'd begun to retch and lose her breakfast after all. Kelly had never thrown up in a dream before, and the process had felt just as awful as in real life.

Kelly didn't understand how her mind worked sometimes. She'd had nightmares before that involved monsters, plenty of them. They'd chased her around and tried to kill or rape her. But none them had treated her anything like this one, and she honestly didn't know how her brain had come up with it. In the half second between retching and actually vomiting, he'd shifted again, clamping his hands over her mouth. Some of her puke had spurted out her nose to run down her face, while the rest remained in her mouth, hot and acidic and disgusting. Her senses had been overwhelmed by the intense smell and taste of it all, and the only reason it didn't make her throw up again was that she'd already emptied her stomach. As it was she violently retched for what had felt like an eternity before getting herself under control.

"How's that for the kindness of strangers?" he'd said, sounding like he was holding back laughter. "You made some throat lube for me!"

Ugh! She would've rather dreamed about getting hacked apart by chainsaw maniacs a hundred nights in a row than about him sliding his cock back into her puke filled mouth. He'd grabbed the back of her head and pushed, and pushed, and pushed. Kelly wondered if actual deepthroat could be anywhere near as awful as how it had felt in her dream. Her gag reflex had triggered the moment the fat head of his prick, slick with her bile, had wedged itself in her throat. She'd tried to pull back, but his hands had kept her there. So she'd just knelt in place, her body spasming and twitching helplessly, as he crept inexorably further.

It felt so melodramatic now, but when she'd realized she couldn't breathe, she’d really thought he was going to kill her. She remembered looking up at him, trying to beg for mercy with her eyes. But like any nightmare monster, he hadn't listened. His cock had continued its impossibly long descent into her gullet, pushing some of her regurgitated breakfast down with it in the process.

His stiff, unkempt pubic hairs had tickled her nose, and smelled strongly of shit. Having her nose slowly buried in them had been almost as revolting as tasting his shaft, and even as she'd longed desperately for air she hadn't been able to help feeling disgusted by them. He'd slowly, almost gently ground her face against his crotch, trying to get every last millimeter of himself into her. "Her throat's more than good enough," he'd said. "Bitch, how's her ass?"

Kelly had actually forgotten all about the freakish dog girl until he spoke. The girl had barked - not like an actual dog, but like a bad impression of one - and then Kelly had felt something cold and hard jab her asshole. She'd never done anal before, not out of any particular aversion, just because no boyfriend had ever expressed any interest in it beyond the appeal of "the forbidden fruit". Kelly thought back to her dream and shuddered under the bed sheets. She hadn't had an aversion before, but she certainly did now.

It was possible that her overactive and apparently masochistic imagination had gotten the better of her. That real anal sex didn't feel like someone ramming a blunt spear up your backside. But she was fine with never ever finding out how the genuine article compared. In the dream, she’d screamed around the cock in her throat, and the monster had laughed. “I know that look,” he’d said. “That’s virgin guts you’re exploring, Bitch! We’ll have to give that hole some extra special love later!” Kelly was grateful that she’d woken before she had to find out what her subconscious could have meant by that.

She’d barely even been listening to him, though. It was her air that mattered. She’d truly felt like she was choking to death, and she kept trying to protest, making muffled sounds against his thick filthy cock. Her nightmare had just smiled at her efforts. “I cum, and then you get to breathe. Priorities.” And then… she’d heard the term ‘throatfucking’ before, but she’d never experienced anything like it in her life. He’d grabbed the sides of her head and started furiously humping her like an animal in heat, using his grip to make her head meet his crotch with equally frenetic energy. He never pulled out enough to let her get even a single breath, fucking in short sharp strokes that felt like getting punched in the face. As his balls slapped wetly against her chin, his prick had drilled in and out of her throat, triggering her gag reflex repeatedly and making her shudder and convulse, spit and puke drooling out of her mouth.

And as if all that wasn’t bad enough, the dog girl had been busy ripping her in two with those impossibly deep thrusts. The grotesque woman had been hunched over her, all of her weight supported by her hands on Kelly’s shoulders, as though mimicking the way a real dog would mount another. Though she never said a word, it had been obvious from her moans and squeals of pleasure that she was enjoying the brutal rape just as much as the other monster. Her strap-on had eagerly rooted around in Kelly’s bowels, slamming into her ass with even more intensity than real one hammering her throat. Each violent jab hurt worse than the last as her rectum was further shredded and tenderized by the dry, abrasive shaft.

The nightmare had been so convincing that it was a genuine relief now to clench her asshole without feeling the slightest discomfort. In the dream, Kelly had been convinced that the creature was going to ruin her forever and transform her asshole into a stretched out, gaping wound. She could still remember every detail of the imaginary spitroasting: the way her feet had drummed against the sides of the van in helpless oxygen starved agony, the way she’d twisted and tugged at the handcuffs around her wrists in her desperation to get away from both monsters, the warmth of her own blood dribbling out of her ass, the disgusting sensation of being force fed a little more of her puke with each thrust.

Kelly had no idea what it felt like to have someone ejaculate inside her throat. Having no frame of reference was probably why her rapist hadn’t tried it in the dream. He’d pulled out of her instead, and as she’d gasped for breath he’d stroked his shaft to finish himself off, spurting his cum into her panting mouth to paint the vomit still in there. She was nowhere close to catching her breath when he clamped his hand on her mouth again and pinched her nose shut. “Swallow or suffocate,” he’d told her.

Kelly had never swallowed in her life, and had no intention of changing that. She rarely even had cause to spit. As far as she was concerned, fellatio was foreplay, not sex; she was okay with spending a couple minutes tonguing her boyfriend’s shaft before he slipped the condom on, but actually finishing him that way was the stuff of birthdays and anniversaries, not everyday lovemaking. In her dream, though, she’d swallowed, gulping down the cum soaked vomit to earn herself some air. God, her dream self had been such a coward. In real life, if someone ever tried to make her do anything like that, she’d die first.

In the dream, the monster had patted her head after she swallowed. “Good slut,” he’d told her. “You’ll train nicely.” Then he looked over her shoulder at the dog girl, still focused on raping her ass. “Come get cleaned up, Bitch,” he’d said. “I want a taste of that cunt before we call it.”

The dog girl had barked, and then finally taken that horrible thing out of her ass. Kelly had been so relieved at the time, but only until the girl circled around to her front and Kelly saw what her strap-on looked like after being up her ass. The filth and the smell… ugh! She’d still been staring at it with disgust when she’d felt hand on her hips. That was the only warning she’d had before the monster drove himself into her slit. She’d gasped in shock, and immediately regretted it when the dog girl used the opportunity to bury her fake cock in Kelly’s throat just as quickly.

Had all this been her mind’s way of telling her that deep down she wanted a threesome? It couldn’t be, right? If it was something that she secretly wanted, no way would her imaginary version have been so awful. The nightmare man had pounded her pussy like hamburger, making her feel less like she was making love and more like her insides were just a sock for him to masturbate into. And meanwhile, the dog girl had decided to scrub Kelly’s throat with her dirty strap-on, which meant more gurgling and flopping about as her gag reflex protested. At least she hadn’t had to taste it most of the time, but every time the girl pulled back, giving Kelly a glimpse of how the shaft was now slightly cleaner, the knowledge of how that had happened and where the shits stains were now had threatened to make her hurl again.

“Did anyone ever tell you that your cunt is nice and soft?” the monster had asked her. “Because it really is. I hope you’re on birth control, slut, because I don’t see myself saying goodbye without leaving double digit loads in here.” He’d stuck his middle finger into her loose anus then, the unexpected act making her jump. “But maybe this shitter is even better, you think?” He’d pulled his finger out and patted her ass cheek. “We’ll have plenty of time to find out later, slut. Pleeeeenty of time.”

Kelly had felt so tired and hurting and utterly grossed out that when he began to cum inside her pussy, without any protection, the possibility of getting pregnant only barely registered in her mind. More than anything, she’d been utterly terrified by what he’d said about having plenty of time, and even now she couldn’t blame herself for that reaction. Even though it was just a dream, it had been far and away the most horrible experience of her life. The thought of even five more minutes of it made her kind of want to cry.

Thankfully, that had been pretty much the end. The dog girl had kept using the strap-on with her throat, transitioning to throatfucking her with it once it was clean, but the nightmare man hadn’t touched her again. He’d just dug into her pants pocket, pulled out her wallet of all things, and scanned her drivers license. He’d looked over it for a solid minute, his lips moving as he repeated something to himself, and then he’d smiled and put the license down. “45 Ulmus Street, huh? You know to get there, slave?”

“Yes master,” some unseen woman had said from the front seat of the van. “Just a few minutes away from home.”

“A few minutes, huh?” her nightmare had mused. And then he’d smiled at Kelly. “Well, you heard my wife. See you in a few minutes.”

And then she’d woken up.

And not a moment too soon. The memories made Kelly feel dirty all over, and she was eager to take a shower to try and feel clean again. So she slipped out of bed and started up a nice, hot one. Maybe she’d take the day off, she decided. She knew it was stupid, but she felt nervous about going to the parking garage today. Yes, a relaxing day off was just what she needed.

The hot shower did wonders to improve her mood. With every passing minute under the warm water, she felt more foolish about getting worked up in the first place. It had just been a harmless nightmare after all, and a rather silly one the more she thought about it. As though there were creepy guys roaming around with tasers in hand and rape vans at the ready in real life. They were probably almost as rare as one-eyed girls who went around naked cosplaying as dogs. Kelly felt good enough to giggle at the ridiculousness of it all.

The bathroom door opened, and then someone yanked the shower curtain to the side. Her nightmare stood there, in the flesh, already naked and cock standing firm. Crawling behind him was the one-eyed dog girl, strap-on bobbing as she moved. “There you are!” the monster said cheerfully, joining her in the shower as she stared in stunned horror, too shocked to move a muscle. “We’ve been all over your house looking for you. Hope you enjoyed your break, slut. Ready to start having some real fun now?”

“N… no…” Kelly whispered, her heart thudding in her ears. “You’re… y-y-you’re not real… you’re… ”

“A dream?” the monster asked, grinning. “Yeah, I get that a lot. Go right ahead slut, keep calling this a dream if that makes you feel better. Whatever helps you cope. Now turn around and bend over like a good girl. Your nightmare wants to see for himself how warm and tight those virgin guts are.”

Kelly whimpered. And then she did as she was told.

Chapter Twenty Nine

Nadine knelt, mouth open, while her boyfriend’s cock began its long slide into her throat. Well over a foot long and with the girth to match, there was a bulge in her neck demonstrating his progress. When he was all the way in, her button nose in his sweaty pubic hair, he spat on her face, the thick spittle running over her left eye. “Get started, cunt.”

Nadine immediately began throatfucking herself on his anaconda. She had her hands on his butt, using them for leverage as she swallowed and regurgitated his prick repeatedly. Despite her clear effort, she was too tight to move very fast, and had to settle for a slow and steady pumping. Every time he bottomed out in her, she gagged loudly, and after a couple minutes of this she pulled her head away from him and puked, spewing white slime down her chin and deliberately onto her tits. Instead of surprise and disgust, her reaction was to smile broadly and began scooping the vomit up with her fingers. She stroked his cock with her hands until it was coated from base to tip with slime, and then got back to throatfucking.

With her puke as lubrication, she was able to fuck herself much harder now, and spit drooled out of her mouth as she treated her own throat like kleenex. She threw up on herself two more times, and both had the same result. It took about thirty minutes of being an oral fleshlight before she swallowed him up completely a final time and waited, the bulge in her neck clear as day. She gulped several times, but wasn’t fast enough to stop a bit of cum from spurting out her nose. Once his load was finished, she licked that spilled cum off her lips and chin, and then began cleaning his vomit streaked cock with her tongue.

Only when it was all done, and she’d licked up the pool of precum and saliva that had formed on the floor during her throatfuck, did she face the camera. “Tune in next time,” she said, voice hoarse, “when once again, today’s cock snot will double as tomorrow’s lube.”

As he exited the video and focused on his breakfast, Jordan couldn’t helped but be impressed by the girl’s continued survival. It had been three years already, and still she produced a video every morning like clockwork. She’d started to run low on ideas half a year ago, and he’d been seriously considering that it might be time to make good on his promise, but she’d found a solution: a boyfriend who knew how to treat her right. She’d gone searching online for someone who’d be willing to help regularly abuse and humiliate her on camera, promising to repay them by being their live-in maid, cook, and sex toy. There had been a few false starts, guys who wanted a fuckpet but lacked the creativity and sadism to think up and execute the kind of daily videos she needed. Jordan had known Darrell was a keeper from the very first day, when he broke Nadine’s nose on camera for letting some of his piss leak out of her mouth, and then made her lick the blood off of his fist while apologizing for being a bad girlfriend. She’d acquired a lot more bruises since then, but they only made her sexier.

The doorbell rang as he was mopping up the last of his scrambled eggs with some toast. “Get that for me, slave,” he said absently. The closest thing Christine had to clothes at the moment was a furry tail buttplug, but she didn’t hesitate, giving his cock a farewell kiss before crawling out from under the table and answering the door.

“How may this lowly slave make your day better?” she asked whoever was outside. That was her typical greeting to anyone who visited the house, and while Jordan sometimes had to rewind to keep the peace, it was more likely to result in her getting some hard fucking from a stranger.

“I, uh, I’m here to install the new toilet, ma’am?” said an older male voice, sounding confused but also quite pleased. Jordan guessed he was enjoying the way she was kneeling and licking his shoes.

“New toilet?” Christine asked uncertainly. “I don’t…” Jordan grinned and froze time so he could go get dressed. He wanted to witness her reaction firsthand.

“Good morning,” he said to the plumber a few minutes later, a heavyset man with some graying hair and work clothes. “The bathroom is right down the hall, let me show you. Don’t mind my wife: if it’s not in the kitchen and can’t pump her full of cum, she doesn’t know anything about it. Isn’t that right, dear?”

“Absolutely, master,” Christine said automatically, but she still looked nervous. “Your slave wife is an empty headed fuck doll who loves to please.”

Jordan enjoyed the way the plumber kept sneaking glances at his wife as he led the man down the hall, the woman crawling alongside them. Yes, Christine was going to have a new cock to play with today, after the work was finished. She gasped when he opened the bathroom door, revealing the empty space her mother had knelt in for the last two years.

“Where… where is she…?” she asked Jordan hopelessly.

“I got rid of it last night,” Jordan said easily. “You remember, you were playing outside with Bitch? She was seeing how many of the boys’ rawhide bones would fit inside you? Anyway, it was a good toilet for a while, but the maintenance started to be more trouble than it was worth. Don’t you remember how it backed up four times just last month?” In this context, “backed up” referred to discovering that Helen had died while they weren’t paying attention. Starvation was the most common cause - there weren’t a lot of useful calories in their shit - but sometimes their urine was salty enough to leave her dehydrated past the point of no return. The woman had become nothing if not devoted over the years: even with the sink just a few feet away, she would remain in place while she died of thirst, expecting “God” to come take care of her at any moment. Which Jordan always did, after rewinding, but it had become a pain to be forced to tend to her.

No one but him remembered it now, but he’d spent a few days seeing if she could be useful as a more normal slave before giving up. After two years of being a toilet, Helen was a lost cause. Even after making her go through an entire tube of toothpaste and several bottles of mouthwash, her breath had been absolutely foul. Just using her as a toilet had gotten progressively grosser and less satisfying as time went on, and it said something that even after happily exploring hundreds of different assholes over the years, he’d been repulsed at the idea of having his dick anywhere near her mouth.

Her tits were still large and firm thanks to her zip tie bra, but they were far from his favorite at this point. The lack of circulation combined with malnutrition had made them look mottled and weird, and she’d lost almost all sensation in them. Breasts didn’t have much purpose if their owner didn’t even notice when you bit and slapped them. And her cunt was simply awful. It had molded itself around the shock device that he’d left in there for the last two years, which meant it had a permanent gape now. When he stuck his cock in, there was barely any friction.

Even her asshole hadn’t survived the ravages of time. Now that her tits were ruined, it was far and away her best feature, but that wasn’t saying much. Jordan had pounded it enough over the years that it was a far cry from that tight virgin butthole he’d enjoyed so often in high school. And she wasn’t any good with it. Christine had to be one of the best assfuckers on the planet at this point; sometimes he’d spend hours on the couch watching television or playing video games while she bent over and serviced him with her ass. She’d keep him just shy of climax the entire time, gently milking and teasing his shaft using nothing but tiny movements and her experienced muscles, until he tugged her hair to make her finish him. Comparing Christine’s butt to her mother’s was like filet mignon and ground beef.

Jordan was used to inexperienced people. He’d busted open many, many virgin holes at this point, even if not all of their owners remembered it. But it was always adorable how new girls would thrash and squeal and get so worked up over a little buttfucking. Helen would just smile and thank him. Which was fine when he was forcing someone to act that way, but she was so far gone mentally that she really seemed to think it was some kind of privilege when he came in her guts. It had been hilarious at first, but the novelty quickly wore off.

He couldn’t even get her to behave as a normal person. When he’d brought her out to the kitchen and fed her some real food for dinner, she’d thrown it up almost immediately and begged him to empty his bowels in h er mouth instead. When he’d dressed her in some of her old clothing, which was loose and baggy by now, she went and soiled herself the first time she needed to go, after chewing her shirt in half and tearing her bra off because “God told me He loved my tits”. And if he left her unsupervised, she would scurry back into the bathroom so she could take up her old position. No, as much as it pained him to ever admit defeat, Helen was just too far gone to be worth the effort. She’d never be anything but a toilet now.

“But, but where is she?” Christine asked urgently.

Jordan noticed the worried glances the plumber kept giving his wife while he inspected the available space. If this kept up, the man might actually feel sorry for her. That wouldn’t do at all. “Sorry,” he told the plumber, “my wife is just being a tad silly. The old toilet had a lot of sentimental value to her, right dear?”

Christine swallowed, knowing better than to argue. “Y-yes, master, it… it was my favorite toilet… I…I loved using it every day…”

“You and me both, dear, but this new toilet will be more convenient. As for the old one, I found some folks who were happy to take it off our hands. They’d been looking for one just like it for their own home. Of course, they’re not as handy as I am, so the next time it backs up will be the last, but it might last another couple years if they’re careful.” Jordan patted his wife’s head, drinking in the look of misery on her face. She sniffled, and a few tears ran down.

“I think we’re good to bring the new one,” said the plumber awkwardly, “but, uh… I don’t mean to interrupt your… farewell? But is there another bathroom I could use before I get started?” He gave them a sheepish grin. “Sorry, I hate to be a bother, it’s just I’ve been on the clock since four, and it’s been a hell of a day, had to keep hauling ass from one side of the city to another and I’m about ready to burst by now.”

“Of course, of course,” Jordan said pleasantly. “It’s no trouble at all. Christine, love, show the man the other bathroom he can use.”

His wife wiped away tears and nodded. “Y-yes, master, right away.” She faced the plumber and shifted into a kneeling position. “The bathroom is right here, sir.” She opened her mouth and waited.

The plumber gave her a dumbfounded look, and then looked at Jordan, who nodded and smiled to encourage him. “She loves the taste,” Jordan confirmed. “Can’t get enough of the stuff. I only ended up using the actual toilet about half the time myself, because she was always so desperate for it, isn’t that right?”

Christine nodded. “I’m a dirty piss slut,” she told the plumber, doing her best to speak without actually closing her mouth. “I’d be so grateful if you fed me a salty treat.”

That seemed to do the trick, and the man fumbled with his belt, revealing a short, fat cock that had an almost tangible stench. Jordan made a mental note to have her give it a thorough cleaning before he left. The plumber had no experience with pissing in a kneeling girl’s mouth and his stream struck her forehead at first, but he quickly adjusted, feeding her the rest while urine trickled down her cheeks. He’d been right; he had been about to burst. His urine was dark and yellow, and it took more than a full minute before the stream slowed. Christine crawled forward to catch every last drop, and when it petered out she gently sucked the tip of his cock in search of more. “Yum,” she said when she was done, and licked her lips. “Thank you so much, sir.”

“Oh, that’s, uh, no problem at all, ma’am,” said the plumber, still looking unsure of himself. “I’ll be back in a sec with your new toilet.”

It took the man about three hours to do the installation. He might have gone faster, but Christine had proved to be a very distracting presence. After a heartfelt plea, he’d agreed to let her stay behind him while he worked so she could tongue his asshole. When she’d reached a hand around to begin gently stroking his cock, he’d nearly jumped through the ceiling, but soon she was steadily servicing him from both ends while he did his best to focus on the plumbing. At one point he’d been unable to endure any longer and spurted a load of cum out onto the bathroom floor. He’d apologized, looking embarrassed, but Christine had just giggled playfully and lapped it up before getting back between his cheeks and lightly teasing him with her fingers to start getting him stiff again.

“Well, that, that just about does it,” he said eventually, after giving the new toilet a flush to check that it was working properly. “I should get going…” Christine made a regretful sound as she pulled away and let him get his pants back on.

“So soon?” Jordan asked. “Why don’t you stay a while and relax? My wife would love to show you some of her hospitality.”

“Mmm hmm,” Christine agreed. She spread her legs to show the plumber her cunt and asshole, and begin fingering them both. “I have lots of warm, tight places for you to enjoy, sir. Please let me please you.”

The regretful look on the man’s face was echoed by the straining bulge in his pants. “I, uh, I’d really like to, ma’am, believe me, but I’m still on the clock, and I already took too long here. If I don’t get a move on, I’m not going to have a job by sunset.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Jordan said smoothly. “I gave your employers a call while you were working, and told them there were some leaky holes here that might take you all day to properly plug. They were reluctant about it at first, but when I offered to pay them fifty times the hourly rate, in advance, they were very happy to offer your services.” He winked at the man. “And I’ll do the same with your tip, too, if you’re willing to do us this favor.”

A few minutes later, the plumber was pounding Christine from behind with heavy strokes that made her entire body shake, his fat belly bouncing against her butt cheeks. At Jordan’s suggestion, she was standing with her legs spread and her head deep in the toilet bowl while her hands gripped the sides, the toilet lid resting on the back of her head. As the man fucked her and she enthusiastically matched his pace, she flushed the toilet every minute or so to make the water she was submerged in swirl around her face.

“Don’t mind me,” Jordan told them, squeezing around to get himself next to the toilet. “Just need to use the facilities.” He lifted the lid, pissed on the back of his wife’s head, and then let the lid drop onto her again. “Ahh, much better. What do you think, love? I bet you’re not even missing that old, used up toilet at all anymore, aren’t you?” Christine let out a sob, but made a muffled sound of agreement through the toilet water. Jordan smiled and left the two of them to their fun.

Chapter Thirty

Christine's screams rang out as Jordan struck her again with the whip. There were already scores of bloody lines across her back and front, but his anger hadn't even begun to feel sated.

"You ugly, ungrateful cunt!" he shouted as he whipped her again, this time right across her breasts. The blow was hard enough to make her body swing back and forth, suspended in the air by her arms. "I feed you! I take care of you! I provide you with a bed to sleep in and a house to live in, you'll never have to work a day in your life, and all I ask!" His hand was gripping the leather handle so tightly that his palm had begun bleeding slightly. "All I ask is that you show me the respect that I deserve!"

Jordan had almost forgotten what humiliation felt like. How painful it was to have someone look down on him. Especially this cheap fucktoy of a wife. "I'm sorry," she was moaning with every breath she could manage. "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry..."

Things had been going so well too, before she'd fucked it all up. They'd spent the last month on a cruise in the Caribbean. Bitch had been left behind, of course; Jordan had bought her an extra large bag of dry dog food and she had the garden hose to drink from. As long as she carefully rationed her own portions - not her mates, who were welcome to eat as much as she wanted - she would probably be able to survive.

There had been no end of lovely women displaying themselves for him like he was at a buffet. Meanwhile, Christine had been making friends down in the depths of the ship. Her homework had been to obtain a used condom from every male crew member. Word of the slutty beauty willing to do anything for some cum spread quickly, and it hadn't taken men long to take advantage. She'd been fucked raw at least ten times as often as with protection, forced to perform every disgusting act the crew could think of to earn those little bags of jizz.

Jordan had fucked more than fifty gorgeous women by the end of the cruise, but his favorite had been a busty Brazilian woman he'd seen sunbathing. She'd been on the cruise by herself, which meant that no one noticed when Jordan's foot locker became her new sleeping quarters. He had gotten so used to his girls being aware of his powers, and it was a sheer delight to watch the woman run away from him the first day he used her, screaming at the top of her legs while his cum stained her legs and sat in her belly. He’d appeared “out of nowhere” in front of her and dragged her back through time to when she was first bound spread-eagled to his bed. Her terror when she realized that there was no escaping him had been more than enough to get him hard again. He'd put Gabriela through her paces and then some over the month, enjoying the fresh tears she shed at every new experience he introduced her to.

By the end, the cruise had been in some disarray, what with half the crew off fucking Christine at any given moment, and a rash of women getting violently assaulted whenever they were alone somewhere. There was something refreshing about not rewinding after each rape, letting his playmates stumble away with his cum dribbling from every hole. He made sure they never saw him, but there was nothing quite like the joy of passing a previously haughty, confident woman in the hall and observing the way she now cringed at every man's glance, wondering which one had stolen her dignity.

A wonderful cruise, but too messy to leave alone, so he'd rewound him and Christine back to before they left. And that was when it happened. Jordan had developed an intuitive feel for traveling back in time, but it wasn't impossible to get wrong. He'd taken them back to breakfast time, when he'd been in the middle of enjoying his food while Christine knelt in her usual spot under the table.

And the bitch bit him.

Normally it wouldn't have even worked, but his power had taken just the barest of a second to activate, as it sometimes did after rewinding long periods, and that had been enough time for her teeth to break the skin. He knew it hadn't been intentional. She hadn't been expecting to suddenly find him balls deep in her throat, and she'd instinctively bit before she knew what she was doing. It would've been punishment enough to fuck her up the ass with a corkscrew, or make her spend the day cleaning the toilet with her tongue (one of her weekly chores that had become far less interesting without her mother around).

But he'd seen it. She'd tried to hide it from him, but he'd seen it: her smile. She'd been laughing at him, at stupid nerdy Jordan Seeler getting teeth marks on his cock. His own wife mocking him!

He finally realized that she'd stopped begging him for mercy a few minutes ago. Weak little bitch had gone and died from blood loss again. Like he'd let her get off that easily. He grabbed her leg and rewound them about an hour.

He had the cattle prod back in his hand now, and he sunk its prongs deep into her right breast, skewering her on it before pulling the trigger. Christine shuddered and pissed herself as thousands of volts ran through her. He didn't let go until he smelled smoke and cooked meat, and then he rewound them both so he could repeat the process with her left tit.

After killing her like that another dozen times, he rewound to the blowtorch, and slowly wrote words like STUPID CUNT and WORTHLESS SLUT all over her flesh with it. Then he went back to the pincers, to the sandpaper, to the knife, to the hammer.

By the time he started to calm down, he'd cycled through the instrument of torture four times backwards and forwards, and the noises his wife was making didn't even sound human anymore. He grabbed her chin and examined her face. There was no trace of her earlier attitude anymore, just misery and pain. Good. That was how it should be.

He cut her down and fed her his cock, and she was so grateful he'd stopped hurting her that she gave what might have been her best blowjob in years. When he was done, she rolled onto all fours almost before he'd stopped spurting, and reached her hands back to peel apart her ass cheeks and offer herself up. He didn't say no.

As he rode her ass, he put a hand around her neck. Christine gagged as he throttled her, but didn't try to resist, or even slow down the passionate movements of her hips. “The only reason you’re still alive right now,” he told her, “is that you feel good on my cock.” She did her best to nod in agreement. “Say it.”

“I’m… only… alive… right now… because… I feel… good… on your… cock…” she gasped, her face turning red as she choked. She didn’t let her hips falter.

“You are just filthy, used up fuckmeat.”

“I’m just… filthy… used up…fuckmeat…”

“And what am I?”

Her eyes had almost rolled up into the back of her head now, and she was drooling, but even someone as stupid as his wife had the sense to keep fucking him back. “You are… you… perfect… wonder… ful… amazing… love you… love you so much…”

“And if you ever fucking forget any of that again,” he swore as he began to cum in your ass, “I’ll have to find ways to really make you hurt.”

“Th… tha… thank… you…” She passed out before he was done cumming, the moment marked by her bladder spraying piss all over the floor. He finally released her throat then, letting her take another breath.

By the time she woke up, his hand was throttling her again, and his stiff cock was plowing her cunt as she laid face down in her puddle of piss. Before he could even speak, she began mumbling. “’m a dumb… ugly cunt… nothing to offer… but tight holes… and you’re handsome… genius… brave… I’m so lucky you’re… my husband…”

Jordan found himself smiling as she kept extolling his virtues and her own faults. It was a good start. He still had a lot more punishment to deal out before he was satisfied that she’d remember her place, but it was a good start.

Chapter Thirty One

It always made Randall feel guilty and disgusted to watch his daughter’s pornography. He did it anyway.

There were any number of excuses he could have told himself to rationalize what he was doing. Christine was already a proper adult in her twenties who hadn’t lived in the same household for nearly four years now. His daughter made it clear during her monthly visits - which lasted all day and took place almost entirely in the bedroom - that there was nothing she loved more than knowing he was watching her “artwork”. And he was a bachelor, living in a house that was far too big for a single person, who otherwise had nothing else to bring him joy in life. Randall could think of dozens of reasons why what he was doing wasn’t really a failing of his character.

But he ignored all of them. It was irrelevant what his relationship with Christine was like these days, or whether she approved of his habit, or the state of his life in general. He masturbated to his daughter’s videos because she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever known, and he was too weak to overcome his own libido. He knew that he was many things, and most of them were terrible, but he would at least be honest with himself.

He leaned back in his chair, unzipped his pants, and fished out his cock as a smiling Christine appeared on his computer screen. “Hi, Daddy,” she said cheerfully. “I hope I can make you spurt some more great big loads today!” She always talked to him directly like this, as though the videos were for him and him alone. In a way they were: they were sent directly to him first. But they always appeared online about a day later, and as far as he could tell, they were exactly the same. She seemed to feel no shame about their relationship, or shyness about displaying it to others. That was alright; he had more than enough shame for the both of them.

Randall had never visited her house (and was in no hurry to, not if his son-in-law would be there), but the room she was in was as familiar as any in his own home by now. The studio room had been designed exclusively for her porn shoots. There were multiple cameras embedded in the walls to capture every angle, cuffs and chains and ropes attached to every surface to allow self bondage, and every kind of sex toy imaginable strewn about. Right now, she was suspended in midair by three ropes. One was tied off to her hair, and the other two went around her ankles. Her legs were in a V position, feet pointing at the ceiling, that left her crotch and ass on full display. Next to her and within arms reach was a stool with a cardboard box sitting atop it, its contents hidden.

“Hmm, what should we do today?”Christine mused, tapping her chin in an exaggerated display of thought. “I know!” Her lips curved up into a wicked smile. “It’s been a long time since we really streeeeeetched my asshole, hasn’t it Daddy?” She giggled. “Not since the last time you stuffed your fat cock into it. Why don’t we see just how badly we can ruin it today?”

Randall started to lightly stroke himself as she reached into the cardboard box and pulled out a long black dildo, giving its head a playful kiss. “We’ll need to properly lubricate this, of course,” she said before running over tongue over it. After a few seconds, she stopped grimacing. “Bleck!” she complained unhappily. “This thing tastes awful. We need to freshen it up a little.” Christine brought the dildo down to her crotch. “I could stick this in my juicy, wet cunt to get nice and smooth and slippery,” she said. “But I know something that will taste even better than pussy juice.”

After a second, she began to urinate, her pee stream striking the dildo. She rotated the fake dick around, trying to get her urine all over it, and when she was done she brought it up to her mouth and sucked on the head. “Mmmmmm,” she purred. “Much better!” Randall had treated his daughter to innumerable ice cream cones over the years, but she’d never displayed half as much eagerness and pleasure licking those as she did the urine soaked dildo. “Yum, yum, yum,” she said after a few minutes. “Okay, Daddy, let’s see if my piss and drool make good lube!”

Christine offered no further preamble as she positioned the dildo and began cramming it inside of her. The body fluids on it didn’t appear to be helping at all, but she showed no sign of discomfort, biting her lower lip and closing her eyes in pleasure as she forced it in deeper. Once it was in, she pulled it back out slowly, letting the camera catch how her rectum clung to the shaft as though it didn’t want to let go. “See how hungry my butt is, Daddy?” she asked. “It’s craving more of your thick, salty cum.”

When it popped out of her, leaving her asshole gaping, she brought the dildo back up to her mouth. “Now it’s really a tasty treat,” she said happily, holding it up to the camera to show off the brown streaks on it before attacking it with her tongue once more. When she stopped a few minutes later, she held it up again to show her audience how thoroughly she’d cleaned it.

Then it was time to feed it back into her butt, the entry much easier now that she’d loosened up. She pumped herself with it a couple times before pulling it out for another tongue bath. This cycle continued for about half an hour before she was satisfied and left the dildo lodged deep inside of her. Randall had already finished once, and was starting stiffen again when Christine reached into the box and pulled out a second, identical dildo. “That was just the warm up,” she said. “But you already knew I take a bigger cock than that up there every night, didn’t you Daddy?” He grimaced at the thought of her and Jordan. No matter what she told him, he would never trust that little creep.

“Now, I’m all out of piss to lube this one up with,” she said, giving the camera a little pout before brightening up. “But I brought something fun to use instead!” She produced a jar of hot sauce from the cardboard box. “What better to satisfy my greedy guts than something hot and spicy?” She dipped the dildo in the jar and stirred it around, making sure it was fully coated before taking it out. “Here I go, Daddy!”

Her asshole already looked comically stuffed with the one dildo, but Christine pulled on one of her butt cheeks while trying to wedge the tip in alongside the one already in her. “Sometimes master brings someone to play with me,” she confided to the camera. “And I get to do this with some live, warm cocks. Oh God, I love getting double butt fucked! It’s such a privilege to get to satisfy two men at once with the same filthy shithole.” Her asshole soon gave up the fight, and stretched to allow the second dildo entry.

Randall’s daughter started to twitch in her suspension as the hot sauce covered dildo traveled into her bowels. “Oh that, that, that feels so good,” she insisted. “Oh Daddy, your slutty little girl loves the way her asshole is burning while she stuffs a second dick into it! This is what I was born for!”

Once the initial entry was successful, she followed the same routine as before, regularly taking it out and licking it clean. Before each tongue bath, however, she would scoop some of the hot sauce out of the jar and pop it in her mouth, swishing it around while she sucked on the dildo. And before reinserting the dildo each time, she would give it a fresh dunk into the hot sauce jar. By the time the sauce covered dildo was buried next to the first, her lips and tongue were swollen and her face was flushed. “For most people, this would be the absolute limit,” Christine said. “But let’s demonstrate what an experienced anal slut is capable of.” She took out a third identical dildo. “Now what should we lube this one with? Hmmmm… we’re going to need something reaaaaaaaally good to fit this one in. How about… yeah!”

She closed her eyes, and all expression on her face faded away. She trembled, then tears began to trickle past her closed eyelids. Christine cried for about ten seconds, then opened her eyes and blinked the rest away. “I was thinking about how awful my life would have been if I’d never met master,” she told the camera with a cheeky grin. “Stuck in some boring old job with a boring old husband… I might not have even gotten the chance to fuck my own father. Isn’t that the saddest thing you’ve ever heard, Daddy?”

She caught a single tear with her index finger and pressed it against the head of the dildo, swirling it around to spread the miniscule amount of liquid. “Perfect!” she declared. “Just the right amount of lube for a slut like me! Now, this is dangerous for any who hasn’t been fucked up the ass thousands of times already, so don’t try this at home!” She wiggled her packed ass and winked. “Unless you’ve got me in your home, anyway. You can do whateeeeever you like to a fucktoy like me. My Daddy certainly does, don’t you?”

This one took the longest to fit in, long enough that Randall had finished a second time and was getting in the mood for a third by the time it was buried to the hilt, forming a crude triangle inside her. There was a bit of red leaking from her stretched anal ring, and it didn’t look like hot sauce. “See how amazing I am, Daddy?” Christine asked. “And don’t worry, there won’t be any permanent damage. I’ll be as tight as always for you next time w-” The picture abruptly changed. It was still Christine, but she was in a bedroom now. Instead of the professional looking setup he was used to from her videos, this one looked like it was from a camera phone.

Randall’s daughter looked miserable, and it wasn’t hard to tell why. She was on her stomach, her ass in the air, and her husband was behind her with his hand around her throat, choking her as he violently fucked her. Her wrists were bound behind her back, and her legs had been tied to the bed posts. “Help me,” she mouthed silently. The scene lasted less than two seconds before changing again.

“-e meet” said Christine proudly, back in the filming room.

Randall didn’t waste time closing the video. He just got up and ran. He was so anxious that he dropped his keys while trying to start up the car, and nearly hit someone backing out of his driveway, but he made it onto the road without any serious incident.

Christine was in trouble, that was obvious. Randall wanted to kick himself. For years he’d had his doubts about how much his daughter really wanted this life of hers. He’d privately questioned her about it more than once, wondering if Jordan was coercing her with blackmail or something. Every time she’d been perfectly persuasive, talking him about of his fears and convincing him that she was exactly where she wanted to be. But even if she’d been telling the truth all those times, that message she’d snuck into her video meant that something had clearly changed. Randall knew he was a failure as a father and a husband and probably as a human being in general, but there was no way in hell he was just going to stand around while his daughter needed help.

He pulled onto the highway, cursing the traffic. It was going to take another twenty minutes to reach Christine’s house, and every passing second made him feel like he was about to explode. He pressed down on the gas, determined to get there as soon as humanly possible.

“Did you enjoy that masturbation session, Mr Summers?” Jordan asked from the passenger seat.

Randall gaped at him, bewildered by his son-in-law’s sudden appearance. Where had he come from?! There was no way he wouldn’t have noticed him getting in the car, and they were going eighty down the highway! But anger replaced confusion. The slimy little bastard! He tried to reach out and slug the son of a bitch, but his hands wouldn’t move. Somehow Jordan had duct taped them to the steering wheel! He felt more duct tape on his mouth, gagging him.

Jordan smiled. “I wanted to keep this civilized. So just listen for a minute, Mr Summers, and let me talk. First, let me confirm that your worst fears are true: I’ve been raping Christine against her will since high school, and so have you. She has never once had the slightest sexual interest in you, but I thought it would be funny to make her fuck her own father. And it was! You should see the way she cries after every one of those videos she makes where she flirts with you. Sometimes she’s so disgusted she has to go throw up in the toilet. I’m sure that’s one thing Helen doesn’t miss, wherever she is.”

Randall screamed at the boy through his gag, but his fury just seemed to amuse Jordan. “As long as we’re getting this all out in the open, I was raping your wife for a long while too,” Jordan told him. “Thanks for leaving me her virgin ass, by the way. Very nice fuckhole. I gave her away a few months ago after I got tired of using her as a toilet. I think she’s still alive, but I’m not sure, and I don’t care enough to check. And can’t forget Bitch. I mean Rachel.” He snapped his fingers. “No, sorry, Rebecca, that was her name. Rebecca. Been raping Rebecca almost as long as Christine. Longer kinda, relatively speaking. But at this point, I’m pretty sure our three dogs have fucked her ten times more than I ever have. I’ll admit, back when I fucked her up so badly - I’m the reason for all her injuries and weird behavior, by the way - even I never expected that she’d spend the rest of her life living in my backyard as a convenient bitch for my real dogs.”

All this new information was overwhelming, and none of it made any sense. One thing came through clearly, though: everything that had gone wrong in his life over the last few years, it was all this man’s fault. Randall struggled with the duct tape, trying to tear himself away from the steering wheel. “I wouldn’t waste my time if I were you,” said Jordan. “You pulled it off the first couple times, but I doubled the amount of tape since last time. And if the duct tape doesn’t work, I’m not above nailing those hands down to make you behave.”

“Let me give you the good news,” Jordan continued. “Your fucktoy daughter didn’t actually send you a secret message asking for your help. That little slut is too well trained to even think of doing something like that. The bad news is that I did.” He grinned. “It’s a game I like to play with your fleshlight. I hide some embedded messages in her videos, and she has to find and remove them before sending them out, or else things like this will happen. She’s done a really good job over the years of keeping track, but everyone has a bad day.” He leaned in closer. “Can I share a secret? She didn’t actually make a mistake this time, either. I just stuck that message in after the fact. It’s been fun sending her to your house to get raped every month, but I figure you’ll eventually start asking annoying questions and sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. Besides, it’s going to be delightful when she thinks this is all her fault.”

Jordan rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I think we’ve covered all the highlights. Raped every woman you care about, sent your wife off to die somewhere, turned one of your daughters into a literal brain damaged bitch, tricked you into to raping the other one, forced her to create a bunch of humiliating videos for you to jack off too… is that everything? Oh, and I cut your brakes. It’s kind of minor in the grand scheme of things, but it will be pretty relevant in a minute.” He patted Randall on the shoulder, making the man seethe. “One last thing: by the time you crash into that traffic jam up ahead, I’m going to be balls deep in your daughter. I’m think I’m in the mood for cunt right now, but I’ll probably enjoy that asshole while I share what I just did to you. Depending on how badly you crash, you might live long enough to die while she’s guzzling my cum. Just a nice little mental image for you to reflect on at the end of your life.”

He vanished as suddenly as he’d appeared, and the duct tape went with him. Randall stomped on the brakes, but the car didn’t respond, and he could already see the line of stopped cars ahead of him. In his last few seconds, he screamed his daughter’s name.

Chapter Thirty Two

“Please, you have to leave,” Christine begged, twisting her head to look back at Danny. “He’ll be back any minute.”

Danny slammed her head back down against the kitchen table. The thump that produced was satisfying enough that he did it a few more times just for fun. “That’s the idea, bitch! You and me are just killing some time first.” The woman who’d helped ruin his life was bent face down over the table, wrists cuffed behind her and his cock busy between her spread legs. “Me and Jordan have all kinds of catching up to do.”

“You don’t understand, he will kill you,” Christine insisted. “Please, I promise I won’t tell him you were here!”

Danny tapped the barrel of the gun he was holding against the back of her head. “We’ll see about that, bitch. But first I’ve got a reunion with these holes of yours.”

He’d had everything he ever wanted before these two showed up to fuck with him: money, girls, respect. All of it gone now. His family had disowned him after his conviction and his friends had all abandoned him. Even his looks had been stolen from him; prison wasn’t kind to rich kids, nor to rapists, and being seen as both hadn’t done him any favors. But he’d made it. Six years. He’d endured six years of that hell waiting for this. Not a day had gone by without him thinking about the two things he needed to do when he finally got out: punish Jordan for setting him up, and punish Christine for helping him. The fact that the two of them had gotten married just made things easier.

He’d gotten out last week and immediately begun looking for an opportunity. As far as his probation officer was concerned, he was going out job hunting every day, but his mornings and afternoons had been spent here, watching their house from afar. Seeing how successful the little bastard had become over the years had only encouraged Danny. It had taken longer than he’d expected, but Jordan had finally left for once, giving Danny the chance for some alone time with Christine.

The woman had only gotten freakier over the years. When he’d broken in, he hadn’t known what he’d find her doing, but he definitely hadn’t expected “giving herself an enema in the bathtub”, let alone filming it with a smile. And her sister, if that really was the filthy one-eyed chick in the backyard getting fucked by a dog, was even worse. Freaks, the both of them.

But that was okay. Danny liked freaks. “You must be thirsty, huh Christine?” He picked up the bowl that he’d forced her to expel the enema liquid into. “Time for another drink.” He set the gun down just long enough to grab a handful of blonde hair and pull her head back so that he could pour more of the filthy liquid down her throat.

Christine sputtered, but swallowed all of it like the kinky slut she’d always been. She was secretly loving this shit, he just knew it. After being stuck with that tiny dicked wuss Jordan all these years, she probably couldn’t get enough of his cock, even if she wouldn’t admit it. That gave him an idea, one that she was going to love. “You really want me to leave, bitch? Then get my cum in all three of these fuckholes of yours. If you can do that before Jordan gets home, I’ll leave and let him live.”

Just like he’d known she would, Christine began to fuck him back frantically, happy for the excuse. Her hips rolled as her cunt hungrily swallowed him up and just as eagerly spat him back out, her ass cheeks drumming a fast beat against his crotch. Danny hadn’t been with anyone since that day in the bathroom six years ago, and within seconds his balls were demanding release. He didn’t fight it, letting that slutty twat wring out his load.

Instead of pulling out, he began to smack her upturned ass. Faded bruises and welts told him that it was far from the first time she’d been spanked, but Christine reacted beautifully, squealing and squirming after each blow. “Fucking pain slut,” he said, and spat on her back, his cock already beginning to stir to life inside her.

“Yes,” she agreed, panting. “I’m just a worthless pain slut! Punish my ass for being such a dirty bitch!” That sounded like a good idea to him, so once her cheeks were glowing red and she was weeping from the pain, he pulled his stiff cock out from her cunt. It sucked on him, not wanting to let go, and he almost decided to blow his second load in there too, but her asshole was calling to him.

He spread her red cheeks wide apart with his thumbs. If the flecks of white in the enema liquid hadn’t been enough of a clue, her asshole’s worn and slightly gaping appearance made it clear that it saw heavy use. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that your asshole was supposed to look like a starfish?” he taunted. “What you’ve got back here is a greedy little mouth, slut.”

“Please feed it with your thick meat,” she begged. “I’m going to die if I don’t feel your hot cum in my guts soon.” Her invitation made his cock pulse, and he quickly directed it towards the small opening, not worrying about lubing himself up first. His cum and her juice on his shaft were already more than she deserved. Christine’s anal ring put up no resistance, and Danny slid into her bowels easily. It firmed up behind him though, a tight band of pressure that stroked his cock as he moved inside her. The butt slut moaned and wagged her ass from side to side as he began to fuck her.

Maybe he wouldn’t kill her after all, Danny considered as he enjoyed her poop chute. He’d been planning to make Jordan watch him off her, and then take his time torturing the twerp to death. But it really would be a shame to waste such a sexy fucktoy. Maybe he could just keep her here like this. His time spent spying on them had shown him that they already spent their lives like recluses. If he buried Jordan in the backyard and locked Christine in her own basement or something whenever he was out, would anyone even notice? Probably not. He could slip right into Jordan’s life, the same way he’d slipped into the man’s wife. Her asshole clenched him like a fist, wordlessly demanding his seed. He’d give her the chance to persuade him, he decided. Kill Jordan first, slowly, and then tell her he could be convinced to let her live, if she could make it worth his while. The slut would be happier with him anyway. He knew how girls like her should be treated.

Danny was almost ready to spurt in her when he heard the front door open and Christine froze. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry, I tried to be fast enough.”

“Shut up bitch,” he whispered back harshly. “Or the first bullet will be for you.” He trained his gun on the hallway, waiting to see Jordan appear.

When he did, Danny almost didn’t recognize him. He’d been watching from afar before, and hadn’t gotten a good look at the bastard until now. It wasn’t just that he looked twenty years older than the last time he’d seen him. Jordan had lost the cringing slouch he always used to have, and stood instead with his back straight, making him look nothing like the shrimpy nerd Danny remembered. Instead of his usual anxiety and shyness, he looked confident and relaxed, even as he took in the sight of his wife being raped on their kitchen table. “It’s good to see you, Danny,” Jordan said. “How was prison?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Danny snarled. “And get down on your knees.”

“You know, I would,” Jordan said. “But my knees have been acting up lately. I’m not getting any younger, you know?” He laughed like he’d just said something funny. “But please, don’t let me interrupt you from raping my wife’s ass. I mean, it is rape, right Christine? Or did he seduce you away from me?”

“Please don’t kill him,” Christine pleaded. “He’s harmless, I promise. He can’t do anything to you!”

“Fuck you, bitch,” Danny snapped. He was already sick of that arrogant look on Jordan’s face. A bullet in the gut wouldn’t kill him anytime soon, and it would teach the son of a bitch a little respect. He aimed and fired.

Jordan seemed to flicker, and the bullet struck the kitchen floor behind him, shattering one of the tiles. “Oh Danny,” Jordan said with a smile. “Danny, Danny, Danny.” He flickered again, and suddenly his elbow was crunching into the blond man’s nose, making him howl in surprise and drop the gun. “She wasn’t talking to you.”

Danny scrambled for the gun, his hard cock slipping out of Christine’s ass, but it was nowhere to be seen, not until he felt it press against his back. “It was a short reunion,” Jordan told him, “but say goodbye, Danny.”

Some of the blood from his broken nose had run into Danny’s mouth, and he spat it out. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go! “Don’t… don’t shoot,” he said quickly, terrified. “Please.”

“How about a compromise?” Jordan asked. “I’ll give you five seconds to make peace with your death, okay? Five… four…”

“Please!”

“Three… two… one… zero!” Jordan pulled the trigger, and two things happened: Danny pissed himself, and the gun clicked on empty. He heard Jordan laughing behind him as hot urine ran down his legs. “I was joking, Danny,” he said. “I’m not going to shoot you, I just want to talk! It’s been a long time, and we were such good friends back in high school, weren’t we?”

Shaking and still in a daze about his brush with death, Danny allowed himself to be led to one of the kitchen chairs. As soon as he sat down, ropes appeared binding his arms and legs to it. He stared down at them in complete bewilderment, not understanding what was going on. “Confused?” Jordan asked. “I’d explain, but that sounds like a waste of time, and you were busy with my wife. Suck my good friend Danny’s cock while we chat, slave.”

Christine nodded and knelt, her wrists still behind her. Her mouth closed around Danny’s cock, and despite his terror, the sensation of her warm tongue on him sent pleasant shivers down his spine. He still vividly remembered the throatfucking he’d given her six years ago, how her inexperience had made her choke and gag and eventually puke all over him. There was no trace of that now. “She’s really good, isn’t she?” Jordan asked, as if he could read the man’s thoughts. “You know what they say: you practice something for ten thousand hours, and you become an expert at it.”

“I’ll leave,” Danny told him. “Honest. I’ll leave and you’ll never see me again.” He didn’t know if he was lying or not, and he didn’t care. Something crazy was going on here, and he wanted out.

Jordan nodded. He’d pulled out one of the other kitchen chairs to sit on. He and Danny faced each other in their seats, only Christine between them. “If that’s what you want. You’re always welcome to come by and visit again, though. But relax Danny, seriously! I’m not going to hurt you.”

Danny couldn’t exactly relax while he was tied to a chair with a beautiful woman sucking on his cock, but Jordan did sound sincere. He licked his lips. “You’re not?”

Jordan held a hand up. “I’m not going to lay a finger on you. Swear to God.”

“Then… can I leave?” Danny asked.

“In a minute,” Jordan told him. “See, I’m not going to hurt you, but Christine is a different story. Slave, after my good friend Danny cums in your mouth, chew his cock off.” Christine whimpered but kept sucking.

Danny flinched at the idea,and twisted his hips to try and get away from Christine, but the bitch kept her lips tight around him. “You, you can’t be serious!” he protested. He couldn’t be. It had to be another sick joke. He struggled with the ropes, trying to break free.

“I’ll have her cauterize the wound just in case,” Jordan said as if he hadn’t spoken. “And we’ll drop you off at the hospital afterward. You can tell them whatever story you want, as long as it doesn’t involve us. Tell them you tried to get a blowjob from a stray dog or something. And then you can do…” He shrugged. “Whatever you like, really. Go enjoy life as a eunuch.”

Despite all of his terror, Christine’s warm and skilled mouth was making Danny’s cock twitch, and he realized that she was going to make him cum soon. He tried to fill his head with multiplication tables and baseball statistics and anything else that could shut down his arousal, but her lips and tongue were relentless. They were going to do it, he realized, the thought making his stomach twist up in knots of fear. They were really going to do it. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I am! I mean it! I’m sorry for, for everything! For what I did to Christine and, and for trying to shoot you, and all the times I ever bullied you. I’m sorry, okay?!”

Jordan leaned forward, looking much more engaged now. “Do you mean it?” he asked eagerly. “You’re really, truly sorry for all the times you hurt me?”

“Yes!” Danny screamed. He couldn’t hold back his orgasm much longer. The chair rattled and bounced around the floor as he thrashed, but Christine followed wherever he went, his cock trapped in her throat no matter how hard he squirmed. “Yes! I’m really, truly sorry! I was an asshole! I was, I was a piece of shit!”

Jordan grinned. “That’s a good start, but it’s only half an apology. If you’ve been a piece of shit this whole time, Danny, what does that make me?”

“You’re um, you’re smart, a-and better looking than me, and just…” Danny swallowed. “You’re just better than me, okay? You’re so much better than me!”

“Aww, that is really sweet to hear,” said Jordan, patting the man’s knee before leaning back. “You do seem like you’ve learned your lesson, don’t you?” He nodded to himself. “Alright, Danny, you know what?”

“What?” Danny gasped. It was too late; he’d gone over the edge. His cock pulsed and began to shoot into Christine. He stared at Jordan desperately as he emptied his load into the man’s wife, begging him to show mercy.

Jordan returned his look with a sneer. “Fuck. You. Start chewing, slave.”

Chapter Thirty Three

The last few years hadn’t been kind to Hailey. Jordan was used to resetting his pets after doing any serious damage to them, making sure to keep their beauty for his own sake if nothing else, but Hailey’s owner had no such ability. Years of captivity had left her body covered with scars, especially the layers and layers of bite marks all over her tits. Huge patches of skin were mottled thanks to countless welts and bruises received during what she described to her parents as motivational sessions. She wasn’t missing quite as many teeth as Bitch, but while Jordan’s dog had had them removed to form a single convenient hole, the redhead’s gaps were scattered and uneven, each a permanent reminder of one long ago punishment session or another. Similarly, each of the dozens of burn marks all over her stomach and thighs had their own story, commemorating a time she’d dared to stop smiling, or hesitated to obey an order, or any other grievous breach of the rules she now lived by. In her frequent letters and videos back home, every last incident had been recounted in great detail, if not recorded for her family to witness themselves.

Hailey had remained in close correspondence with her family starting from the day she’d moved out, promising them in every message how happy she was to have found someone who knew how treat her right. She was even allowed to return home unsupervised once a year on her anniversary, so that she could assure her parents and siblings in person of how much she loved her lifestyle. She would happily discuss the highlights of her year, make them rewatch all her favorite videos, and steadfastly refuse to deviate from her diet, which was harsh enough that dog food was considered a rare treat for a good girl. Her owner didn’t know the full extent of Jordan’s powers, but Jordan had shown him enough to demonstrate that there was no fear of her saying anything she shouldn’t, or not faithfully traveling back home at the end of the day and locking herself within her cage to be found in the morning. She had tried once, just once, to leave a hint about the true nature of her situation. Jordan had attended her brother’s funeral a few weeks later to pay his respects for the tragic accident.

Her red hair was as silky and beautiful as ever, and stood out in stark contrast to the rest of her body. As Jordan understood it, her owner washed and shampooed it every day, usually with his cock in her mouth. He would trim it for her regularly too, letting the scissors occasionally slip to nick the girl and make her squeal. He’d promised that when she died someday, he would turn her hair into a wig for the next girl, so that he could keep caressing those soft red locks while he was inside someone. Given that he was more than twice her age, it might have seemed hyperbole to discuss outliving her, but based on how much she’d aged in just six years, Jordan had a hard time imagining her making it to a full decade.

Despite all the ways her outsides had been ravaged, leaving her scarred and burnt and disfigured, her insides… her insides were incredible.

“Oh, yes, yes, yes!” Hailey panted as Jordan fucked her doggy style, taking a cue from her owner and using her hair as reins. “Oh god yes, you’re so huge! Fuck me! Fuck me!” Her soft twat contorted around his cock, squeezing in a warm vise-like grip that threatened to wring out his cum the instant he gave in. Even though he’d already used her five times today, she made him feel like an inexperienced teenager again, only able to keep pumping by sheer force of will. The mirror in front of them let him enjoy not only the mesmerizing pendulum of her breasts as they swung with every thrust, but that perfect eager smile she’d been taught to wear.

“Oh god, master, please!” she babbled. “Please let me taste your cum while I finish! Please! Please! If my wet pussy doesn’t get to taste your creamy jizz soon I’ll just die! Please feed me, master! Please! Trying to be a good girl! Trying not to finish before you do! Please! Have mercy and cum!” He only managed a few minutes before she was too much for him. He yanked her hair so hard that he nearly tore it out and shot his load into her while he screamed in joy, simulating an orgasm so convincingly that the dryness of her clenching cunt was the only tell that it was feigned.

Jordan rolled off of her, exhausted, and she immediately moved to lap at his cock and get him ready for more. He pushed her away. “Not just yet, Hailey,” he said, panting. “I’m not… not as young as I used to be… give me a minute.” She was what, twenty four or twenty five right now? Jordan was certain that he was in at least his mid thirties. He was starting to put on some weight despite the constant exercise he got from Christine, and every morning it was a little harder to get out of bed, which meant his wife spent even more time kneeling between his legs and suckling him until he was ready to start the day.

“Of course, master!” she assured him, snuggling up next to him instead, one hand stroking his leg while she tenderly kissed his neck and cheek. “This day is all about whatever you want! I’m just so happy to get to visit you again that I can’t help getting excited! I don’t wanna waste a moment!”

He had a reunion with Hailey about once every two years, and she was always this warm and loving around him. She was like this around her master too, but with him it was something special. Hailey wasn’t worried that he’d break some bones or fuck her with a power drill or anything that mild. She knew that if she didn’t pass muster he’d do something far meaner: take her back. With every year that passed, she gained deeper appreciation of just how terrible spending the rest of her life in slavery was going to be. And at the same time, that appreciation came coupled with the knowledge that it could be so much worse. Her owner had to worry about choking her to death when he strangled her during sex, had to actually keep track of her nutrition so that she remained miserable but healthy, had to avoid beating her so hard that she’d bleed to death overnight. The knowledge of just how much worse her already horrific life would be with a master who never had to worry about those things, and in fact would actively enjoy pushing her body beyond its limits only to bring it back, motivated her like no other threat could.

“Did I tell you about Sandy?” he asked while they cuddled. She shook her head, trying to hide the way she tensed at what she knew would be unpleasant news. “Passed away last August. She used to do this weekly show involving a horse, I’m sure you can guess the details, and one night the beast tore up her rectum so badly that she started bleeding internally. She spent four days pleading with her pimps and all her customers, telling everyone in earshot that she was dying and begging to be taken to the hospital. All it got her was complaints about her behavior, and she spent those last few days alive being beaten regularly and given no food outside of piss and cum. I made sure to visit her on the very last day, so I could feed her a final farewell load of cum. It wasn’t until she died a couple hours after I left that they realized she hadn’t just been being a whiny crybaby. Isn’t that hilarious?”

Hailey forced a chuckle that almost sounded real. “Yeah, what a dumb slut,” she agreed, and kissed his earlobe.

“Nadine’s gone too. That was about two months ago. Her boyfriend Darrell finally got sick of making videos. I guess she’d been going out of her way to try and get him to stick around for a while: let him pawn all her stuff, let him whore her out to all his friends, even drugged her sister for his birthday so he could enjoy some fresh cunt. But eventually, no matter how tight or obedient a slut is, you get bored, and then it’s time to dump them and moving on to something new. You know what I’m talking about, right?”

“Yes master,” she said, giving only the slightest shiver.

“So in the end, he kicked her out of her own apartment without a cent to her name. She wandered the streets all night trying to find someone to film and fuck her, but Darrell rides his bitches hard, you know? And he was as vicious with her off camera as he was on. Nobody wanted a worn down, used up fucktoy, just like nobody would want to touch your filthy hide, right?” He laughed, and she laughed with him. “So the silly girl did the only thing she could think of: went and killed herself. Jumped right off a bridge. Didn’t want to wait and find out what I’d do to her.”

“Mmm, what a coward,” Hailey purred. “That was better than she deserved.”

“That’s exactly what I said when I found out,” Jordan told her. “After all these years of enjoying her videos every morning, I couldn’t believe she would just off herself like that without even saying goodbye. So I had to bring her back, of course.”

“O-of course.”

Jordan reached for his pants next to the bed, and dug his phone out of his pocket. “I thought, what better goodbye than one final video, right? That one never went up online though. Even the shadiest sites don’t allow snuff. Do you want to see it?” Without waiting for a response, he pulled it up on his phone and showed it to her.

He didn’t watch the video himself. He’d enjoyed it at least a hundred times by now, often letting it play in the background while he enjoyed his wife. What he wanted to see was Hailey’s reactions. She struggled to hold onto her cheerful demeanor, but as Nadine’s screams began to come out of the speaker, her eyes were wild and terrified. Jordan stroked her hair and listened as he watched Hailey try desperately to keep up the act. Even with the phone turned away from him, he was familiar enough with all the sounds to know exactly what was going on screen at any given time. The first time she started begging him to kill her was right after he’d finished breaking all her fingers and started in on her toes. The little high pitched whine of disbelief signaled the moment he’d brought out the blowtorch. And when he finally drew the garrote tight, and she realized she was at the end, there was a tiny sigh of mingled relief and despair that he’d never forget.

Hailey broke around the time he started force feeding Nadine trash, telling her that if he had to go through all the trouble of burying her body, he might as well take care of his garbage at the same time. Her pretty green eyes filled up with tears, and the dam broke all at once, the redhead suddenly sobbing her heart out. By the time the video finished, she was still crying and wailing, and he was rock hard from watching her. “You really were the smartest of the three for volunteering like you did,” he told her. “They’re both dead and buried, and here you are living large. For now, anyway.”

He pulled her onto his lap and she mounted his cock, obediently bouncing and squeezing even as she continued sobbing. “You were right, Hailey, we should try to make the most of today. I mean, just look at you! I’m surprised your owner hasn’t gotten rid of you already. What are the chances that you’ll still be around in another two years, right?”

His words made her sob harder, but she nodded her head. “Right,” she blubbered. “I-I’m just an ugly fuckpet who will probably die soon. Thank you for… for…” She faltered, not knowing what to say.

Jordan slapped her ass. “You’re welcome, Hailey, for everything. What are old friends for?”

Chapter Thirty Four

Bitch made a quiet whimper as she licked Master Max's cock, trying to get him hard again. The mastiff had already mated with her five times today, and he seemed to be drained, but she was nothing if not persistent.

She missed Master Bailey. He'd been her first and favorite lover, and while the two mastiffs were wonderful, there had always been something special about the german shepherd. The boys had been raised with her at their beck and call, and treated full access to a willing bitch as just another part of life, no different from begin given food and taken for walks. Master Bailey, though, he'd always been full of such joy whenever he used her. Bitch had never felt more appreciated than when the dog was eagerly mounting her.

Master Rufus yawned, and she gave him a hopeful glance, her mouth still busy with his brother. She ached to have him inside her just as badly as Master Max, but she didn't dare be so rude as to wake one of her masters. She could only wait for him to wake on his own, and keep trying to encourage Master Max. If she was really, really lucky, he would wake while Master Max was using her and she’d get to enjoy both of them at once. The thought of two furry doggy dicks pounding her hard made her twat damp, and she used both her hands to frig herself furiously as she licked. There was no danger of cumming; she’d trained herself over the years not to be able to finish herself. Only The Master’s fat cock or the Traitor’s lying tongue could do the trick now.

Bitch remembered, vaguely, that there had been a time when she didn't live out in the backyard. When her days weren't spent making love to dogs and living on their leftovers and body waste. She never tried to pursue those memories, and when they rose up unbidden, she did her best to ignore them. The before time had been full of pain, misery, and humiliation. She was far happier as a dumb bitch.

These days, she often forgot that she was even human. She spent so much time laying with her masters, eating with them, conversing in the same barks and growls and yips, that it would come as a surprise when she looked down and saw pale flesh instead of warm fur. In her dreams at least, she was the way she meant to be: one of the pack, not trapped in a crippled human body.

As always, a tiny part of her brain protested what she was doing. She pushed it back down like usual, drowning its vicious lies in happy truths. Being fucked by dogs wasn't disgusting, she yelled at herself. It was beautiful and lovely. She loved being mounted, just as she loved sleeping outside and eating dog food and waking up to a hard kick to the ribs every morning and filling her stomach with piss and shit. She screamed sentiments like those to herself until she couldn't hear any other thoughts. It was simple, really. All she had to do was keep it up, as she’d been doing every minute of every hour of every day, and the unpleasant thoughts in her head couldn't hurt her.

"Heeeeeeere Bitch," called The Master from the back door, and her spirits soared. She gave Master Max a final loving lick, just because he could, and trotted to The Master barking happily. The Master was so wonderful! Strong and kind and handsome and perfect in every way. She was truly blessed to be his dog. The sight of him made old and buried feeling stir inside her: terror, mostly, shame, and just a hint of anger. She squashed them down immediately, shouting at herself how much she loved him.

Standing just behind The Master was The Traitor, and Bitch didn’t try to mask the unpleasant feelings that the sight of her brought up. She let out a low growl, wishing she could rip the woman’s throat out. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d done it, but The Master would just rewind it like always. He was far too loving and generous to leave such a vile cunt alive. Bitch couldn’t actually remember what The Traitor had done anymore, but it didn’t matter; the woman deserved to suffer. When The Master let her punish The Traitor, it was even more fun than being fucked by both dogs.

“Here Bitch,” said The Master again, and Bitch hesitated. He was asking her to come inside. He never asked her to do that. The closest she’d ever come was crawling through the house to get to the van for their special weekly trips. That was it. She was an outside dog who belonged in the backyard. Even during thunderstorms and snowstorms, she was expected to remain there, huddled up with her masters to try and keep warm and dry. Not even the annual pesticide spray of the backyard was an exception. Her doggy masters would be brought inside for a week to keep them safe, but Bitch would remain outside, sick and puking.

“Here Bitch,” The Master repeated, a hint of impatience in his tone, and she quickly shoved away her fear and obeyed, padding through the door and entering the kitchen. The Master always knew best. Bitch’s job was to be a good dog, and a good dog always did what she was told.

The kitchen stank of human food. Bitch hated the way it made her stomach growl and her mouth drool. It was disgusting and filthy and she hated it, she reminded herself. It was nothing like the satisfying crunch of dry dog food, or the warm salty taste of piss. It was foul and gross and she was so glad that The Master never ever forced her to eat any of it. He was so kind that he didn’t even make her eat his scraps anymore, saving those for Masters Max and Rufus.

The Traitor was staring at her with an odd expression, and Bitch growled at her again. That was what she hated most about The Traitor, the way she was always trying to deceive Bitch with smiles and soft words. One time she’d even told Bitch that she loved her. The terrible lie had brought up all kinds of wretched feelings and memories, and she’d had to spend half a day working with The Master to make The Traitor scream before she felt better.

“Are you ready for a fun game, Bitch?” The Master asked, and she nodded happily, glad for the distraction. The Master’s games were always the best. She didn’t hate them one bit.

*********

“Bark! Bark! Bark!” Bitch said as loudly as she could. The Traitor was dead again.

It only took a minute for The Master to arrive, and when he did Bitch let herself fall back to the floor from where she had been clutching the wall. The Master looked pleased… and hard… and she hoped that he was going to reward her by giving her his cock, which she hadn’t gotten to enjoy in a very long time, but instead he just took her hand and touched The Traitor and a few seconds later they were back where they started.

The Traitor hung from the ceiling, her hands cuffed over her head as he feet dangled just an inch over the floor. Perfect and untouched… not even a bruise today. The Master must be spoiling her; he really was too kind for his own good. She hadn’t seen The Traitor so pristine since…Bitch winced as the thought tried to bring back more lying memories. It took a minute to shout them down and remind herself how much she loved being The Master’s fuckpet, and she directed her irritation towards the woman responsible.

The Traitor was weeping, and the sight warmed Bitch’s heart. She hadn’t spoken yet, and that was good. The Master had told Bitch that until she spoke, Bitch would get to do anything she wanted to her. Well, not anything: when they’d first begun hours ago, she’d started by ripping the woman’s tongue out before she could utter a word, but The Master had noticed it the first time he came back to revive her. He’d laughed and praised Bitch for her ingenuity, but warned her not to do it again.

Despite having her tongue back, The Traitor hadn’t used it yet. The dog didn’t know why, and she didn’t care. If she was lucky, the woman would stay silent forever. Of all the games that The Master had ever let her play over the years, this one was easily Bitch’s favorite. Thinking for a moment, she selected her next tool… a baseball bat wrapped in coil after coil of barbed wire. Then she started with The Traitor’s legs, and worked her way up.

It was hard to control the force of her swings… she had no balance anymore, not since The Traitor had taken away her legs, and judging distance was a little bit hard with only one eye after The Traitor had burned out the other one for the last time. She hit her too hard, too soon. The Traitor made a noise like a dying cat as all the ribs on her left side splintered with an eye-watering crack, and coughed up blood. She wasn’t going to last too much longer…

She’d get as much out of her as she could.

WHACK! A downstroke that shattered an arm.

WHACK! Her shoulder dislocated.

WHACK! The ribs on the other side went.

WHACK! The shape of the bat was indented into her cheek.

The Traitor was barely recognizable anymore, all broken bones and bloody gashes where the bat had crushed and the barbed wire had ripped. But she was still alive. Still moaning between broken teeth. And still silent. Good. Bitch quickly but carefully rested the fat end of the barbed bat against The Traitor’s cunt. She’d have to do this before the woman bled out, but she didn’t want to kill her by going too quickly and spare her from the pain. So she slowly and gently crammed the bat into The Traitor, trying to do as little damage as possible even with the barbs, until she felt the cervix stop her progress.

Bitch felt a twinge of regret as she tightened her grip on the bat. This would definitely make the woman beg for mercy, which was a shame, but it was too fun to pass up. Maybe The Master would be generous and let her play the game a second time.

She began to violently fuck The Traitor with the barbed bat. The woman screamed and howled as her insides were shredded, and Bitch rejoiced in every second that went by without her begging, mentally praying to The Master for more… but then the cries stopped and The Traitor went limp. It was her thirty seventh death since the game had begun.

Something was wrong.

Bitch barked three times, staring up at the dead woman as she waited for The Master to arrive. This went beyond sheer stubbornness or pride: The Traitor was trying very hard not to speak. It couldn’t be because the cunt recognized that she deserved every ounce of pain and more. No, there had to be a selfish reason behind it.

The Master whistled as he saw The Traitor’s corpse. “That looks like some fine work, Bitch.” The dog was elated until his next words. “And she still didn’t talk? She must really not want you to win, huh?”

Fear began to crawl into Bitch’s mind. The Master was right, as always. The Traitor’s silence meant that Bitch hadn’t won yet. Which was another way of saying that her silence meant Bitch was losing. All sorts of possibilities began to open up in her head while The Master took them back to the beginning again. There must be another element to this game, something The Traitor knew and Bitch didn’t. Maybe there was a limit to how many times she was allowed to kill the woman, or to how many hours she could spend. Or maybe when it was over there would be some kind of punishment for taking so long, like The Master having them switch places so that The Traitor could torture Bitch as much as she’d been tortured herself.

Bitch had no way of knowing, but one thing was now crystal clear: she needed to make The Traitor talk. If the woman wanted to stay silent, it could only be because she wanted Bitch to suffer. That was all the wicked cunt ever wanted. But Bitch was onto her now, and she wouldn’t let The Traitor get away with this.

She would go with a clawhammer this time, she decided. Bitch started with her toes, breaking them one by one… then went over them again just to make sure. The dog loved the crunching sound they made… it told her she was doing a good job. Her fingers were next, and much harder. Bitch’s legs wouldn’t support her weight, so she needed to cling to The Traitor to get up high enough. The extra weight dislocated both of The Traitor’s shoulders and began to tear the skin at her wrists as the cuffs dug into her, but Bitch smashed those fingers too. Then it was just a matter of driving nails into skin until she finally hit something important.

Bark Bark Bark.

Next was a blowtorch.

Bark Bark Bark.

A broken bottle.

Bark Bark Bark.

A cat of nine tails with glass woven into the cords.

Bark Bark Bark.

Why? Why wouldn’t The Traitor talk?! Bitch knew The Master was going to be angry with her for her failure. She heard herself whimper in terror as she continued torturing The Traitor. Why couldn’t the woman just let her have this? Why did The Traitor have to keep trying to make her miserable?!

Bark Bark Bark.

The Traitor was laughing at her behind her tears. Bitch just knew it. She must be loving this situation and the pain she was inflicting. Bitch found a hacksaw. She’d see how much The Traitor loved having both her arms stuffed up her cunt.

Bark Bark Bark.

Why wouldn’t she talk?!

Bark Bark Bark.

Bitch lit a fire under her and watched her burn.

Bark Bark Bark.

Bitch had known selfish people in her life, but The Traitor was the most selfish of them all.

Bark Bark Bark.

The Traitor already had everything she could want! The Master loved her! She was his favorite! She’d earned the honor of being his wife!

Bark Bark Bark.

Bitch knew she could never measure up, but she just wanted to make The Master happy! She wanted him not to hate her!

Bark Bark Bark.

Why couldn’t the selfish whore just let her have this?!

Bark Bark Bark.

Hadn’t the woman hurt her enough?! The Traitor’s life was already so much better than hers! The fat bitch got to eat real food sometimes, and sleep indoors on a real bed, and take showers, and even speak! She had her legs and her teeth and her eyes! She didn’t have to eat dog shit and sleep out in the cold and spend all day being fucked by smelly, hairy dogs and—

Bitch collapsed to the ground, overwhelmed by cruel lies. She loved her life! She loved it! She loved The Master! She loved being a dog! She loved being fucked by dogs! She loved eating their shit and living outside on all fours and performing tricks to make The Master smile and being a stinking, dirty animal! She did! She did! She did!

Bitch didn’t know how long it took her to regain control of herself and shout down the lies. Long enough for The Traitor to stop crying and start giving her a mocking look of pity. She snarled at the woman, at the source of all her pain and misery.

“She sure is a stubborn slave, isn’t she, Bitch?” The Master asked, and Bitch’s heart sank. She was failing him. But The Master only grinned at her. “Let me give you a little hint,” he suggested. “What if you tried killing yourself instead? You can’t exactly bark when you’re done, but I’ll keep checking back every ten minutes or so.”

His suggestion made no sense, but she was just a dumb mutt and he was perfect, so she decided to give it a try, and realized at once that he’d been telling the truth. Before she’d even bled out the first time from the knife, The Traitor was looking anguished in a way that no amount of torture had managed. Bitch could still win this! When she was revived, she eagerly reached for the barbed bat again. If this was what it took to make The Master happy, she wouldn’t hesitate.

It only took three deaths for The Traitor to break. Bitch was in the middle of using the hacksaw on one of her own legs when the woman finally spoke. “Please stop Becky, please, hurt me instead…” Bitch began happily barking, reveling in her victory.

**********

“You held out for almost a week, slave,” said Jordan when he came back. “Not bad.” He scratched Rebecca behind the ears, and the woman nuzzled his leg.

“Please let her keep hurting me instead, master!” Christine pleaded frantically. “You said she would hurt me, not herself! She can do it as long as she wants!”

“I said that she would torture you until you spoke,” Jordan corrected. “And clearly, making you watch her hurt herself was torture.” He smiled. “If you want, we can try again. I’m sure Bitch can find all sorts of ways to keep offing herself.”

“Nooooo,” Christine whined.

“So you admit that you lose?” Jordan pressed. Her sobs seemed to be answer enough for him. “Then let’s begin. Wait here, Rebecca.” The woman cocked her head at the unfamiliar name as he left.

“I’m sorry,” Christine told her sister as she wept. “I’m so sorry, I tried…” Rebecca only looked back at her smugly.

Jordan returned a moment later, wheeling in a large suitcase that he set on the floor. “Alright, get in.” Rebecca looked at it nervously, but complied, crawling into it and looking up at her master once she was done. “Now say goodbye to your sister.” She gave him a confused look and whined softly.

He sighed. “You can drop the dog act already, Rebecca. It got boring years ago, and your new owner isn’t into it anyway. He just wants a disposable slut he can have some fun with.” She cringed, looking terrified, and tried to nuzzle him again, but he slapped her head away from him. “I told you, that’s enough of that garbage. If you’ve got something to say, use your words, idiot.”

Rebecca’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. She swallowed hard and tried again. “…W-Why?” she managed after a few seconds, her voice trembling and quiet.

“Why get rid of you?” he asked. “Isn’t it obvious? You look like a sewer and smell worse. I don’t know how even the dogs can stand to stick it in you anymore. You could spend the next month in the bath, and you’d still come out a one eyed, gap toothed freak that reeks of dog shit. It was all worth it just to fuck with you and your sister for a while, but like I said, that got boring ages ago. You do everything you’re told, you don’t complain or fight or do anything fun anymore. I mean, look at Christine.” He gestured. “See how miserable she looks? It’s wonderful! I could stare at that crying face of hers all day.”

Rebecca bared her teeth and started growling at Christine, which made him laugh. “I really did break that feeble brain of yours, didn’t I? Here, have a parting gift: everything I’ve ever told you about Christine? Complete bullshit. She’s never done anything but try and help you from day one. I only tricked you into hating her so I could make her suffer.” Christine ached to hear him say it. It was nothing that she hadn’t figured out a long time ago, but it still hurt to have it confirmed that she’d lost her sister for such a petty reason.

Rebecca stopped growling and shook her head, confused. “She… wouldn’t talk… tried to… make you punish me…”

“Punish you?” asked Jordan, amused. “That’s what you thought was going on? I just told her that this game was the last time she’d ever get to see you again. Anyone intelligent would have just spoken immediately and got it over with, but the stupid slut was so sad that she let you torture her to death for days to put off saying goodbye.”

“No…” Rebecca said, determined. “She… she’s tricking you… she hates me… trying to get rid of me… because I love you more… no one loves you like I do… Master Jordan…”

“You mean no one else is an ugly, brain damaged freak who’s been pretending to be a fucking dog for years just because I said so? Yeah, that tracks.” Jordan pushed Rebecca to get her laying down in the suitcase, and began zipping it up around her. “But if you really want keep believing that stupid lie, then this will cheer you up. Nothing that I’ve done to Christine has ever hurt her half as much as having to watch what I do to you. Since that first day I took your drugged ass for a ride, she’s been racked with guilt and regret. And in a few hours, her beloved sister is going to be left in the permanent care of a man who’s going to treat her with as much care and love as any other used condom. For all I know, he’s going to kill you in the first ten minutes, and I honestly couldn’t care less. But she does. I promise you that she’ll spend the rest of her life absolutely tortured by this day, and how she utterly failed to protect you, just like always. In a very real way, just by existing you’ve inflicted more suffering and grief on Christine than I could ever manage myself. Doesn’t that make you happy?”

Rebecca met her sister’s eyes, and for just a second, Christine could see the old Rebecca in that gaze. The kind, brave, and brilliant woman who had watched over Christine all their lives, who had loved her fiercely, and who had fought so hard against Jordan for her sake. She was still in there, terrified and suffering, buried a million miles down under countless layers of scars and conditioning. “…no…” Rebecca whispered, lost and hopeless.

“Too bad,” said Jordan, and zipped the suitcase closed.

**********

A month after Rebecca was taken away, Christine stole Jordan's gun from his desk drawer in the study.

Her fingers fumbled with the clip, and she whimpered when it slipped out of her hand and hit the carpet. She quickly scrambled to pick it back up, panic making her heart pound in her ears. He was out playing with one of his other women, but she had no idea when he'd return, and she had to do this before he came back. She didn't even know if this would stick; if he rewound and undid his entire outing, she wouldn't remember this. He'd already done that five times in the last month, and she knew she would've tried to do this every time.

As she loaded the gun, she couldn't help eying the only door leading out of the study. He could be there, right now, waiting behind it to surprise her. That was what he liked to do when she misbehaved: go back to before it happened and stop her in the act, like he was an all knowing God. Christine focused, trying to sense him manipulating time. She'd long ago learned to detect the flickers whenever he stopped it. Noticing when he rewound time was even more difficult, but it was a skill she'd honed over the years for the sake of survival.

She finished loading the gun, and hesitated for a few seconds. She hadn't felt anything, which might mean he was already here. Already watching and laughing at her foolishness. She couldn't think about it too hard or she'd lose her courage. Christine put the barrel in her mouth and pulled the trigger.

She felt the flicker even as her finger moved, and the gun clicked on empty. The door opened, and Jordan walked in, bouncing the clip on the palm of his hand. "Do you know how fucking annoying it is?" he asked, "to come home expecting a hot dinner on the kitchen table, and find my wife's corpse in my study instead?"

Christine pulled the trigger again, already knowing it wouldn't work. "Please," she begged, barrel still in her mouth. "Please let me go."

"Let you go?" Her husband.laughed harshly. "Did I choke you a little too long last night, slave? How could you ever be stupid enough to think I'd let you kill yourself?"

"Please," she begged again. "You took away my mother. You took away Becky. You killed Dad. You've taken everything from me! Haven't I suffered enough? Please master, if you've ever cared about me at all, please just me die..."

Jordan plucked the gun from her hand and loaded the clip back into it. "Turn around," he ordered. She obeyed, turning to face the wall, and felt the barrel press against the back of her head. "This is what you want?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes, please, master..."

The gun barked and Christine flinched, but there was no impact. He'd shot the wall, not her. Then she screamed as he rammed the gun into her asshole, the hot barrel scorching her insides. "Fuck you, slave," Jordan said, and spat on her. "You don't get to leave. Not ever."

Christine began sobbing as he raped her ass with the gun. "Pleeeaaaaaase!" she whined. "I just want it to end... please, I can't take any more of this..."

Jordan's hard cock replaced the gun, and then he was shoving the now filthy barrel back into her mouth, making her deepthroat it while he pounded her ass. "Since when does what you want matter, slave?" he taunted. "Nobody cares about a fleshlight's feelings! You only exist to do two things: obey, and get filled with cum." She gurgled around the overheated metal as her husband did just that with her ass.

As she sucked him clean and masturbated using the gun barrel a minute later, he looked down on her, his expression a mix of anger and amusement. "So you hate me so much that you'd kill yourself, huh? Leave your husband to fend for himself?" He pulled out of her. "You know what? Go ahead. Gun in the mouth, right? Do it." When she hesitated, he slapped her. "Do it now or with some extra bullet holes, slave."

Christine cried as she wrapped her lips around the barrel. Jordan just watched her and smirked as her trembling finger pulled the trigger. There was a loud bang, fire in her mouth, and pain. Horrible pain as she fell to the ground, gun falling from her numb hands.

And then she was on her feet again, barrel back in her mouth. "Was that good for you, slave?" Jordan asked. "No? Maybe you'll enjoy playing with your metal toy more the second time around."

"Please, master," she tried. "I, I'm sorry, I won't try to kill myself anymore, I-"

"Do it again," he ordered flatly. She pulled the trigger a second time.

Noise, heat, agony. “Again.”

Five suicides later, she began sobbing with relief when he bent her over the desk and started using her cunt, but he soon pushed the gun back in her hand. “Again.” He made her kill herself while he fucked her from behind like that. He made her do it while she rode on top of him, while she spread her legs for him, on her knees and on her back and standing up. She killed herself while he pounded her cunt, while he reamed her ass, while he fucked her tits, and while he was showering her face in piss.

Hours later, they were bed and he was fucking her in missionary position, the gun still between her lips. "Again," he ordered, panting, and she obediently killed herself for at least the hundredth time that day. When she came back, he was finishing inside her.

Once he was spent, he rolled off of her and took the gun from her unresisting fingers. "Still feeling suicidal?" he asked.

"No master," she said quickly. "I-I-I'll never do it again."

"Yes, you will," he corrected with a smile. "We're going to do this again tomorrow and the day after, and the day after that, until I'm satisfied that you've got this urge to self harm out of your system." He fired the gun into the ceiling and then handed it back to her, the barrel hot enough to burn her fingers. "This is going to be your new best friend for a while. Now shove it back up your ass and come suck me off."

Christine swallowed down her fear and obeyed.

Chapter Thirty Five

Life was good.

Even after so many years, Christine’s tongue was still the best way Jordan knew of waking up. Her technique was as familiar as an old pair of shoes, and as warm and comfortable. After several minutes of lovingly sucking on him, she gulped down the same breakfast of semen and urine that she’d had nearly every morning of their twelve years of marriage. Twelve years according to the calendar, but more than twenty for Christine, and closer to thirty for Jordan by his own reckoning. Even after swallowing literally dozens of gallons of his hot cum by now, his wife couldn’t completely suppress her shudder of disgust when his load first hit her tongue, and the sight inspired him to feed her a second one before he was ready to get out of bed.

Their life had fallen into an easy and pleasant routine over the years. She did everything he asked, without hesitation or complaint. After her first and only suicide attempt six years ago, he’d spent almost an entire year making her kill herself multiple times every day. Usually with the gun, but he’d varied the game as time went on. Sometimes he had her stab herself in the heart with a knife, or knot a noose around her own throat, or smash her own skull in with a hammer. There were even a few days spent making her come up with ways to kill herself with her bare hands. By the time he’d gotten bored, something truly had died inside of her. She rarely spoke these days, except to make the kind of entreaties that she was expected to make, and usually had a vacant look in her eyes. Christine didn’t show much reaction to anything anymore, so he was fond of going out and finding new women with more satisfying responses to things he liked to do, but she was still the most beautiful girl in the world to him, and his cock could never stay outside of her for long.

Jordan’s back was acting up, so after his breakfast he rested in his recliner and watched television while his wife tended to him. She bounced on his cock slowly, careful to stay hunched down so as never to block his view. They both knew that he liked a long, relaxing fuck in this position, so she rode him as gently as any woman ever had for her lover, creating steady waves of pleasure that lapped at his brain while he caught up on some shows. Whenever he started getting worked up, he’d grab hold of her blond hair, which had grown past the small of her back by now, and give it three quick tugs. That would immediately transform Christine into a wanton whore who eagerly fucked herself on him while begging him to feed her cunt with his thick cream. Once he’d granted her request, she would become placid and calm once again, kneeling to suck him back to life.

The age difference between them had never been more pronounced. Jordan was pretty sure that he was in his late forties or early fifties by now, and while Christine wasn’t much younger mentally, physically she was barely past thirty. They almost resembled father and daughter more than husband and wife. Lately he’d thought about his age more and more. He could rewind everything but himself, and that fact was starting to catch up to him. He’d enjoyed his wife for decades, and would for decades more, but he couldn’t ignore the fact that it wouldn’t last forever, that he was closer now to the end of his life than the beginning. He couldn’t complain too much; it had been a life well spent, filled with everything he could have ever wanted, and the idea that his wife would still be young and supple when he finally passed away of old age was merely another perk of it.

Not that she’d still be alive when his time came. He couldn’t stand the idea of her getting to regain some semblance of a normal life once he was gone, so once his health had deteriorated too far to have much fun with her anymore, he’d finally grant her wish and let her die. He’d already told her all about that on their official tenth wedding anniversary, when he’d shown her the companion plot he’d bought as her anniversary present. He’d made her kneel in the open plot and give him a slow, sloppy blowjob to show how happy she was that even in death, he’d get to own her forever.

After three loads of cum and four piss breaks down her mouth, it was time for lunch. Like breakfast, the meal was absolutely exquisite, and he enjoyed it so much that he fed the cook a few small scraps. He chewed each thoroughly, savoring the taste, then spat the mush out onto his hand and let her lick it off. Actual food was as rare as ever for his wife, and she ate the soggy, chewed up bits of his lunch with something that approached genuine enthusiasm.

By the time lunch was over, his back wasn’t bothering him as much, so Jordan pushed her up against he wall and fucked her ass. It was almost magical how well her asshole had retained its tightness after thousands of hours of hard use. She was an anal expert several times over by now, and knew just how to clench and shimmy and relax to turn her guts into a warm, filthy heaven for his manhood. Any outside observer would have mistaken the eager way she swiveled after each load to take him deep into her throat for consensual enjoyment. But he knew better, recognizing the misery in her eyes as she set to work sucking her shit off of him so that he could ass fuck her some more.

He was debating whether he’d rather send Christine to the kitchen to start prepping dinner, or go for another round with her ass, when his wife gave a wet cough that left drops of blood on her hand. Both of them stared at it, then Christine coughed again, and significantly more blood came up. Her limbs wobbled, and then she collapsed into a heap on the floor.

“Get up,” Jordan said irritably, and gave her a solid kick that made her cough blood again. “Must have done some internal damage sometimes in the last few days. Get to making dinner, and I’ll return us to last week after I eat.”

Christine shook her head weakly, and an expression appeared on her face. He’d barely seen any expression on her at all in the last few years, and this one he hadn’t witnessed in decades: a real smile. “No,” she rasped. “It’s finally over. I did it…” She closed her eyes and let out a long, relaxed breath of air.

Then she died.

Jordan gave an annoyed sigh. “There are two movies coming out next month that I’ve been waiting for, bitch,” he complained, and kicked her corpse hard enough to make something in her body crackle and snap. “Now I’m going to have to waste time on this bullshit instead.” That was one of the few disadvantages to his situation: sometimes having to wait for things to occur in “real” time. He gave her another kick that destroyed her face, then grabbed a handful of hair and pushed them back a couple minutes.

They arrived to her on her knees, suckling on his dick. Jordan gave her a sharp slap across the face. “Where does it hurt, slave?” If he knew where she was injured, he might remember how they’d done it. Nothing made his cock harder than his wife in pain, and there were plenty of ways he’d indulged himself recently, too many to easily identify what could have killed her. He could recall at least half a dozen different ways he’d killed her via internal bleeding in the last year.

Christine shook her head again, and that smile reappeared. “Everywhere, you son of a bitch,” she breathed happily. “Every single part of me hurts because of you.”

Jordan was stunned by the way she’d addressed him. She’d never once talked to him like that, even before they were married. Rage quickly rushed in at her lack of respect, but she was already starting to cough again. Before he could even consider how to punish her, she was gone. “Fucking waste of time,” he growled, and pushed them back a full day.

His wife hung from the ceiling by her arms, her stomach covered with fresh welts. “Is this how I did it?” Jordan asked angrily, waving the cane in his hand. “Puncture a kidney again or something?” He was more than half tempted to kill her right then and there as a lesson in manners.

She laughed. Christine actually laughed at him. “Do you know the worst part of being married to you?” she asked, her tone light. “That you turned out to be so much stupider than I ever thought you were. Were you ever smart in the first place, or did I just get confused by the nerdy interests and the social awkwardness?”

Jordan shook with anger, and he began beating her with the cane, swinging with enough force to break bones. He’d cracked half her ribs and fractured both legs by the time he stopped, and her smile had never wavered. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” he snarled. He felt tears coming to his eyes, and quickly wiped them away, trying without success to do the same with the hot shame inside him. He hadn’t felt like this since high school, since before his life had completely changed. She wasn’t ever supposed to be able to look down at him like this! No one was!

“Stupid Jordan Seeler,” Christine said. “Danny was a real piece of shit too, but God bless every time he knocked you around. Couldn’t have happened to a more deserving person.” She spat some blood, and then gave a him a look of utter fearlessness. “It’s poison, Jordan. And you can’t stop it.”

He sneered at her. That was what had her acting like this? Another pathetic suicide attempt? He’d make her fucking suffer for this one, that was for sure.

Jordan pushed time back two weeks, and didn’t take her with him. If he couldn’t just beat the arrogance out of her, he’d erase it instead.

He was laying in bed, and she was riding his cock while her hands played with her tits for his amusement. She stroked her nipples and then twisted them hard as she bucked, rolling her hips against him and making fake moans of pleasure. There were already two loads of semen plastered to her pussy walls, and if history repeated itself, there would be three more before he called it a night. Her dinner afterward would be as much of it as she could scoop out with her fingers.

“Who am I, slave?” he asked her, still mentally seething.

“You are my husband and my master,” she said automatically and meekly. “There is no one in the world I love and adore more than you.”

“And who are you?”

“Worthless trash that no one else in the world cares about,” she answered. “The only reason I’m not rotting in a landfill like I deserve is that you are generous and loving enough to find use for this lowly garbage you blessed to be your wife.”

They were the same sort of answers that she usually gave, but he wanted to make sure. He slapped her across the face, then drove his fist into her stomach. She accepted the violence without making any attempt to defend herself, still fucking herself on him, and all he saw in her eyes was that familiar vacant expression. Good. “Get off of me, slave,” he ordered. “You’ve earned yourself some heavy punishment.” Jordan resolved to spend the next few weeks making sure that even thinking about killing herself would make her scream in terror.

A spark of life flickered in her eyes. “Did it happen?” she whispered. She must have seen something in his reaction, because suddenly, as though a switch had been flipped, she was beaming, not looking at all like the obedient slave she’d been just moments ago. “It did, didn’t it? When?” she asked eagerly. “Days? Weeks? How soon do I get to say goodbye to this ugly fucking face of yours?”

Jordan all but screamed in frustration and struck her again. “You bitch!” he shouted. “What the fuck is going on?!”

“You don’t get your way anymore, that’s what’s going on, you pathetic man child,” Christine told him. There was no sign of vacancy in her eyes anymore; she looked more vibrant and alive now than he could ever remember seeing her. She laughed, a trickle of blood leaking from her split lip, and then she spat right in his face. He stared at her in shock as her blood and saliva dribbled down his cheek. “God, do you know how long I’ve had to wait to be able to tell you how I really feel?” She stretched and yawned. “I haven’t felt this good in years! I must have already told you, right? I took poison.”

“And you think I’m going to let you take it again?” he asked. Jordan felt absolutely wretched. For so long he’d felt confident and in control of everything, but suddenly it was like the last few decades had never happened, and he was still just the powerless little nerd that everyone made fun of. “Guess again, cunt. I’m going to tape that whore mouth shut. From now on, the only time it’s open is when my cock is wedged in it. We’ll see if a couple years of that can teach you to-” She laughed again, and the humiliation of it made his insides twist and churn.

“Have I already told you how stupid you are, Jordan?” she asked. “If I did, it bears repeating. I’m not going to take poison. I already did, ages ago. I knew anything normal and you’d just rewind like the save scumming bastard you are, so I found a special, slow acting kind. One that takes years to have an effect.” Her smile widened. “And it’s finally about to.”

Jordan tried to force himself to calm down. He hadn’t been this riled up since the day she’d fucked up his marriage proposal, but learning the cause of her attitude change made him feel much better. “That’s your plan?” he asked scornfully. “That’s why you’ve decided to beg me to think up new ways to torture you to death? I must have fucked your brains clean out at some point. Yeah, you’ve got two weeks left to live. Your sister only had half that in my basement, and look how she turned out. We could keep repeating these two weeks for years, you stupid cunt. Hell, I could just back up further and keep replaying the entire year. As long as I’ve got you around to hurt, who cares what the calendar says?”

“Exactly,” she said, and there was no more mirth in her anymore. She gave him a hard look, her eyes filled with a strength that he’d been certain he’d fucked and beaten out of her long ago. “If you want to keep torturing me, you have to rewind. You want to go back to the start of the year? Great. Means our next door neighbor forgets how you chained her to our bed until she agreed to come here and cheat on her husband every time you asked. Means that waitress you raped half to death just because she got your lunch order wrong gets to go on living the life she was meant to have. Means all those innocent women suffering with the memory of horrible “nightmares” about being tortured by an ugly freak get relief. All that misery you’ve spread for the last year vanishes.’

“So I’ll do it again,” he growled. “And just for you, I’ll make sure to be extra fucking vicious this time around.”

“And then you’ll have to reset it again when I die,” she answered, undaunted. “And again and again and again. Are you starting to get it yet, Jordan? Is anything sinking into that tiny brain of yours? I’m not doing this for myself, I’m doing it for them. You don’t get to hurt anyone else anymore. Not permanently. You’re trapped here with me, you son of a bitch.”

Jordan felt like he couldn’t breathe. This… this fucking cunt thought she could control him? Thought she could tell him what to do? “Then I’ll just let you die!” he roared. “You won’t have to wait for the poison. I can kill you right here!”

Christine shrugged. “If that’s what you do, then at least I’m free.” Her smile returned, and there was a nasty edge to it this time. “But we both know you won’t be able to leave me dead. Because behind all the empty sex, Jordan, you’re a sad, lonely little child who has no one to keep you company but me. The only way you know how to get attention is by literally raping and torturing people until they agree to pretend to love you. You’re actually kind of amazing, you know: you have the power of a god, and you still manage to be the most pathetic person I’ve ever met.”

Jordan didn’t remember hitting her. Everything was a blur, and by the time he came to his senses she was already just a bloody mess, and he was still sobbing. He wiped away some of his tears, then rewound another week.

He was sitting at the breakfast table, and Christine knelt between his legs. She gave a startled squeal when he grabbed her hair and yanked her up, then slammed her face up onto the table. “When did you do it?!” he screamed in her face, throttling her with one hand while she kicked and gasped.

Despite her agony, she still managed to smile. “I’ll… never tell you… you stupid… ugly… motherfucker…”

Jordan froze time and stalked away. For hours he howled and yelled and destroyed things, until he finally started feeling like himself again and could think about the problem rationally. He could just go back a few years, but if even that wasn’t far enough back, and she was able to lie and pretend she didn’t know what he was talking about, he’d have gotten nowhere and she’d be laughing behind his back the entire time. And if he went back too far, he’d just end up giving her the idea for it, and then he’d have to spend the rest of his life watching her to make sure she didn’t try it again. More importantly, jumping back randomly would be like letting her win. No, the way to end this was to go straight to the source. He’d find out when she poisoned herself, he’d stop her, and that would be the end of this. All he had to do was get her talk, and that wouldn’t just be easy. It would be fun.

He was feeling much better when he let time unfreeze. She still had that smile on her face, but he saw it falter slightly when he dragged her over to the stove. “Do you know one of the reasons you’re a goddamn idiot, slave?” he asked her. “Because you think that you’ve already seen the worst I can do, and that after all these decades you can take whatever I have to dish out. Let me show you exactly how wrong you are.”

**********

Christine was still screaming when he brought her back. “Didn’t you smell nice?” Jordan asked. “Maybe next time I nail you to the stove and cook your tits, I should try seeing how you taste. Hell, that could be my dinner every night from now on. Our dinner, I should say; I’d be happy to share your titflesh. Unless you’d rather chat about the poison?” When she shook her head, he held up the nail gun. “No problem, slave. Plenty of other things to nail you to.”

“It’s really a shame I can’t bring photos back,” he told her a few minutes later. “You looked hilarious enough when I nailed your tongue to the faucet, but when I turned on the hot water? I mean, you heard me, I nearly laughed myself sick! And when your belly started to bulge from all the water… I just have to watch that again. Let’s get started, slave.”

A little while later. “You always hear horror stories about putting a hand in the blender, but words really couldn’t do it justice, right? You died before we got to do the legs though, so we’ll start with them first this time.”

Christine was a dumb bitch, but even she couldn’t fail to learn the lesson he was imparting. He’d always been a little easier on her than he was with the other girls, careful not to break her too far. He saw now that he’d been far too lenient with her. So he gave her a taste of how much sadism he was truly capable of, and just as he’d known it would, her facade of strength crumbled almost immediately, revealing the whimpering, pathetic slave hiding inside.

“When I tried to kill myself!” Christine howled, less than half an hour after he’d begun torturing her. “I did it when I tried to kill myself!”

His wife sobbed brokenly, without a trace of her earlier attitude. The sight made Jordan feel much better. This was the real Christine, the one he knew and loved. “The day you shot yourself? When exactly did you do it?”

“The… the gun was never meant to work…” she said, cringing away from him. “It… it was just a decoy. I took the poison just… just before I pulled the trigger…”

Jordan let go of her. He didn't waste time gloating. He just pushed, beginning the six year rewind without hesitation. He didn’t bother bringing her with him; she didn’t deserve to know that her plan had succeeded even temporarily, or that he’d had to force the truth out of her. He’d just show up and foil it like he always did, and let her wonder how he’d known. Maybe it would teach her a little respect.

He’d never gone back anywhere near that much before, and it took more than an hour of relative time. He spent the first few minutes fuming, trying to decide exactly what he’d do to his wife when he arrived. And then he realized the perfect method. A way to put that bitch in her place, permanently. It was a shame to undo the last six years that he’d spent breaking her in, but that was okay. This time, he was going to do it right.

By the time he arrived, his bad mood had vanished completely. He was going to enjoy this.

He was back outside the study, where he’d waited to surprise her. Christine was right behind the door in front of him, her gun freshly loaded. Last time he’d just removed the clip, but this time he’d—

There was a loud, angry noise, followed immediately by many more just like it in quick succession, and Jordan flinched in surprise. He had no idea what had just happened, but there were holes in the door and… he looked down at himself and saw four growing red spots. He stared at them, mystified, and then the pain hit him like a physical wave, and he collapsed to his knees, screaming in agony. The world around him froze, but it didn’t change what he was feeling. He rewound time a few minutes, but it didn’t undo what had happened to him. He was back on his feet, but he was still in in more pain than he’d ever been in his life, still shrieking, the red spots still growing.

Jordan’s legs gave out and he tumbled to the ground. Lying on his side, he saw the blood run down his body and begin pooling on the floor. He’d been shot. She’d shot him. The bitch had shot him! The door to the study opened and Christine appeared, still holding the gun. The moment she saw him, she fired. This time his powers kicked in like they were supposed to, but they didn’t help. The bullets were frozen right now, but he still had to move away from them, and he found he couldn’t push time back at the moment, the pain and terror in his head making his control slip away from him. Even his ability to hold time still was wavering.

Unable to stand, Jordan crawled slowly forward towards Christine to escape their trajectory. Every movement was agony, and he left a bloody trail behind him as he dragged his broken body across the floor. After a minute his hold on time vanished completely, and he screamed as one of the bullets struck the back of his leg.

He reached a shaking hand out to Christine. “This… this isn’t right,” he wheezed. “I’m… invincible…” He sounded pitiful even to his own ears. He grabbed at her ankle, and she kicked his hand away.

His wife looked down at him, and let out a breath. All the tension in her body seemed to go out with it and she slumped back against the door frame. “Not always,” she breathed. “When you rewind, there’s a moment after, a tiny fraction of a second, where your powers don’t work. That’s how I bit you that one time, because we’d gone back a whole month. I could only hope that longer jumps meant more of a delay, but even years would mean barely seconds to work with. Not enough time to do anything, not unless I could convince you to come to an exact time and place where I was already ready and prepared to kill you.”

Christine crouched next to him. "How long did it take before-” She shuddered. “Never mind. I don’t want to know. Did I figure out how to make the lie about being poisoned for years sound believable? I must have, right? Or did I just make you too mad to think straight?”

Jordan’s head was spinning, and he felt confused and feverish. This wasn’t really happening. It couldn’t be happening! “You… you were poisoned…”

His wife nodded. “Once enough time passed, I’d look for an opportunity to poison myself with anything I could find. Then it would just be a matter of keeping my story straight beforehand, no matter when it came up. And acting like myself again. That was always going to be the hardest part, to make myself smile and laugh like I wasn’t the weak, terrified slave you’ve spent years molding me into. But it was necessary. If I got you angry enough, made you rip the lie out of me, you’d come shooting back here to the moment it happened to punish me, just like you always do.” She set the gun down carefully. “Today was never about killing myself, Jordan. It was about killing you.”

Jordan was cold, and he hurt. Wet tears ran down his cheeks. “Help me…” he begged, pawing at her feet. “You… you have to…” He coughed and felt warm blood run down his chin.

“No,” Christine said, softly but firmly. “No, I don’t. You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore. Never again.” Her tone remained calm, but there was fire in her eyes. “Did you know that I used to care about you? I thought you were this sweet, shy boy with a good heart. I once thought I could even love you. But you couldn’t let me be a person, could you? Couldn’t let me have a choice about being with you. So you stole that choice from me, tried to reduce me into an object instead of a human being. You made me do things that I never imagined possible, things that I hated, things that made me hate myself, things that I can never take back. You hurt me, and you hurt my family, and you ruined everything I loved just because you could. Just because you were too much of a fucking coward to risk rejection.” Her voice turned hard, and her eyes burned. “But you know what else you did, Jordan? You lost.”

No. Anger rose up in him, and he let it give him strength. She wasn’t going to get her way. He wasn’t going to allow himself to die here. She was a stupid, worthless fucktoy, and he was a living god. “You are mine…” he swore, forcing the words out. “And I will… make you pay for this…”

This wasn’t how his story ended.

Jordan pushed time harder than he ever had. The world blurred around him, but his own dying body remained unaffected. He kept going, putting everything he had into it. It hurt in a way it never had before, a mounting sense of heat and pressure in his head. He endured it. He could endure anything for the sake of his revenge. The pressure and the heat grew and grew the more he pushed, until it felt like his head was about to explode. But the pain didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except fixing this.

His skull cracked, and then shattered. His brain was on fire, hot enough that his eyes began to boil in their sockets. His world shrank into nothing but pain and darkness. He felt the agony, heard his own screams, tasted and smelled his own roasting flesh. And still he pushed, driven by raw anger. Raw need. Raw purpose. He would fix this. He would fix this or tear the entire universe apart trying.

The universe yielded first.

His head healed. His wounds closed. It hurt more to undo the injuries than it had to receive them, but he almost didn’t notice the pain through his sense of triumph. As he kept going, his gray hairs darkened, his back pain disappeared. All the aches and pains and compromises of age melted away as he pushed, until he was a young man again. He could never remember feeling so healthy and full of life before. He laughed. He had done it! He had conquered time!

The bullet wounds were long gone, but he barely remembered that he’d ever had them. What was happening was far more important than merely undoing a fatal injury. He had gained immortality. The inevitable end of his life no longer loomed before him. There would be no end. He would never have to stop, and the entire world was his to play with.

Back to the beginning, he decided. Back to the start of it all. Eighteen years old in high school, with a virginal Christine and a bitchy Rebecca and an oblivious Helen. Clean slates to play with again for decades more, and when he was ready he’d rewind it all. He would do this again and again, forever. His life, the world, the entire universe, reduced to a circular existence where he could do anything he wanted, as long as he wanted. One day, thousands or millions or even billions of years from now, after he’d enjoyed everything that life possibly had to offer and grown bored of it all, he would allow the universe to move on without him.

But for now, time would just have to wait.

*********

Jordan was standing in the middle of the road, staring at a frozen truck bearing down on him. Here it was: the start of it all, the moment he’d first activated his powers and saved his life. After this, his life and those of everyone around him had changed forever. And they would change again. The first time around, he’d been a naive child, but now he knew what he was doing. And this time, he decided, he wouldn’t be nearly as merciful. No more skulking in the shadows, hiding his powers and erasing memories. He would make the entire world recognize him as a god.

He wouldn’t be able to do it overnight, of course. He’d have to start small. Work his way up, demonstrate his abilities, teach people to fear him. But time was no longer an issue. There was no one who could stop him, and he could try again as often as he wanted. So yes, this time around he would be a god, just because he could. Perhaps, if people were smart enough to see reason, he’d even be a benevolent one.

Had he been touching Christine when he rewound? He couldn’t remember. If he hadn’t, they would have a lot of catching up to do. He would let her live forever just like he did, bringing her back with him on every loop. For what she’d done to him, she deserved no less than to suffer endlessly. To endure an eternal hell where all her pleas for mercy went unanswered. He would turn her into the most miserable, most tortured, most pathetic soul in existence. And he already had more than a lifetime’s worth of ideas on how to do it.

Eager to get started, he stepped away from… he stepped… he…

He couldn’t move.

His body refused to obey him. Jordan tried to look down at himself, but his head was unresponsive as the rest of him. He couldn’t even move his eyes or blink, forced to stare at the truck that had been meant to kill him. Jordan was as frozen as the rest of the world, something that had never happened to him before. He fought against it for a few moments, and then gave up. He would just have to release time, and then get out of the way before the truck could hit him.

But time didn’t respond. That sense of it in his head, the weight that had become more familiar than his own face, was gone, and it wouldn’t come back no matter how often or how hard he reached for it. It took some time, but eventually fear began to trickle into his head. If he couldn’t resume time, if he was stuck here in this single frozen moment, then… then… he redoubled his efforts.

This world outside of time had always felt like home to him. It was his secret safe place, where no one else could go. But that was when he could leave whenever he wanted. Now the atmosphere and its utter lack of life felt maddeningly oppressive. It was a cold, empty, and uncaring world, and he was frantic to escape it. For hours he struggled, growing more terrified with every passing second, desperate to regain even a single spark of that power. It had to come back. It always saved him when he was in trouble. It was always there when he needed it.

But not this time. Hours turned to days, and all his effort yielded nothing. Weeks, nothing. Months, nothing. Years, nothing.

Jordan had been a statue for more than a decade before he finally accepted the truth: he’d burned himself out, pushed himself too hard and destroyed whatever it was in his head that had given him control over time. It wasn’t going to come back. Time was never going to resume. This was it. This was everything. The entire universe had been reduced to this single frozen moment that would never change. And no one would ever know it but him. No one existed anymore but him, and he would never get to join them in oblivion. He begged the truck he would stare at forever to move, to give him the death it had once promised and free him from this prison. Nothing happened.

Time passed. Centuries. Millennia. Quiet, dead epochs that only he was there to observe. Jordan spent the time the only way he knew how. He meticulously planned out, day by day, decades of torture for each and every single person who had ever wronged him. He composed and memorized year long prayers for salvation to every deity he could remember and some that he’d only imagined. He catalogued every last slight anyone had ever given him, and for each and every one concocted an elaborate revenge. He also catalogued every last slight he had ever given anyone else, and for each and every one spent months pleading for forgiveness.

And after he had done all of this a thousand, thousand times, he was reduced to incoherent screams of rage, and wordless sobs for mercy. Neither was answered. Neither could ever be answered.

Jordan Seeler, the immortal god, stood still and silent in his tomb, and eternity stretched out before him.

Epilogue

Christine sighed. This homework was going to be the death of her. She'd been at it for nearly two hours, and there was still a mountain of it to go. She rubbed her eyes and resisted the urge to pick up her phone and see what was going on in the rest of the world. Work first, play later.

Not that she was in any real mood to play, either. The truth was that she was exhausted and terrified. For a week now, there had been a sense that everything was about to go terribly wrong, and that there was only one way to escape it. She was doing her best to ignore it, but a voice in her head kept screaming that tonight was the night, and it was growing louder all the time. She didn’t know what was approaching, only that it was both horrible and inevitable.

Her problems had all begun the last month, ever since the day of Jordan’s accident. He’d been hit by a truck while walking home from school and gone into a coma. The doctors had been confident at first that he would recover, but it turned out the impact had damaged something in his brain. Physically he was fine, just a few broken bones, but mentally, he was… empty. His body still functioned, but it was as though there was no one inside. His parents had pulled the plug last week. Good fucking riddance.

She didn’t know why that sentiment had popped into her head.

Everyone had attributed her odd behavior lately as grief over what had happened to Jordan, and it was, to some extent. He’d been a good friend, even if they’d drifted apart after puberty, and his death had hit her hard. And yet…

Everything was wrong. Even her age. Christine knew for a fact that she was eighteen years and in high school.. Of course she was. But at the same time, being a teenager in high school felt like something that had happened decades ago, and when she saw herself in the mirror these days, she was always struck by how incredibly young she looked. Her skin felt like it should be bruised and callused, not smooth, and everything was supposed to hurt. Sometimes when she woke up, just that realization that she was lying alone in a bed brought twin surges of joy and guilt.

It wasn’t just the bed. So many little things that she’d always taken for granted, like eating dinner or having a wardrobe, suddenly seemed like incredible luxuries to her, and not in a good way. Part of her kept waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under her. Someone was going to be furious that she was wearing eating food and wearing clothes instead of… instead of…

Her entire life was like that now. It was like she’d become two people in the same body. One was Christine Summers, the normal if slightly overworked teenage girl. And the other… she was always the other when she dreamed. Someone older and wiser and stronger than she was, but but at the same time racked with pain and grief and self-loathing. Christine only remembered bits and pieces from her dreams, but they were always such horrible nightmares, filled with torture and abuse and degradation on levels she’d never imagined or wanted to imagine. And sex. So much sex, and never willing, always painful and humiliating. And the worst part of her dreams was how correct they felt. How much more real. When she woke up from one of them, for the first few minutes she would feel almost certain that they were her real life, and high school was just a silly dream that would vanish any moment now.

The dreams had been terrible enough on their own, but they were beginning to seep into her real life. She’d have these disgusting flashes that felt like nothing she’d ever experienced before, like a cross between a waking dream and a memory. She’d pass a student in the hall, someone she didn’t even know, and imagine having her legs wrapped around him while he raped her. She’d say hello to one of her teachers when she entered a classroom, and feel like she knew exactly what it would be like to kneel in front of him and suck his cock. How was she supposed to focus on her classwork when she knew, as well as she knew her own name, that her Calculus teacher would love having her eat his ass out? Or that the boy in the adjacent locker would happily fuck her tits for hours if she let him? Two weeks ago her father had passed her a bowl of mashed potatoes and she’d suddenly known with perfect clarity what his piss would taste like, and that he would cradle her head lovingly while he fed it to her, as though sharing something intimate. Dad had cleaned up the spilled mashed potatoes for her while she was being sick in the bathroom.

There was a knock on her bedroom door, and Christine flinched. “Everything alright?” her mother asked.

“Yes, Mom,” Christine replied “Everything is going fine.”

There was silence for a few seconds. “You’re working on your homework, right?” Mom asked cautiously.

“Yes, Mom.”

“…It’s just, I know things have been hectic at school lately, and it’s important that you do well this year. Colleges are going to be paying very close attention to your GPA…”

Christine suppressed a sigh. “Yes, Mom. I’m working on my homework, I promise.” One of her few non-sexual epiphanies in the last month had been that what her mother loved most about her was having a model student to brag about. Maybe that was harsh, but it was also true. Her mother did love her, and Christine loved her back, but it was a more realistic kind of love these days. She’d accepted that her mother had her faults, and that she wasn’t a person that Christine could trust, but she was still her mother, and Christine would always care about her, even knowing what it would be like to sit on her face and… ugh.

Dad, on the other hand, she’d found herself feeling closer to lately. Even when her weird flashes told her all kinds of gross things about him that she’d rather not have known, they always came with the sense that he loved her and cared about her. She felt safe with him in a way that she felt around very few people in her life these days, and she knew that the other person inside her felt the same way.

That other self would come out randomly all the time, bringing with her a mess of confused and contradictory feelings. Someone would ask her a question, for example, and she’d find herself certain that the proper etiquette was to kneel in front of them and fix her eyes on the floor before giving a meek answer. She’d embarrassed herself doing just that without thinking in the classroom once. But it wasn’t that her other self wanted to do that. Rather, it just felt like the thing to do, like saying something when someone sneezed. What her other self actually wanted was the exact opposite, to stand tall and give a clear answer and maybe tell the other party to go fuck themselves if they were being hostile.

That other person was kind of awesome when she wasn’t struggling with perverted instincts. She’d come out while Christine was giving a public presentation in AP History last week, and despite feeling certain that she was supposed to be naked while in front of so many people, she had felt calm and confident in what she said. And she made all the things that had once inspired so much anxiety, like getting into the best college or maintaining her social status in school, seem like trivial issues that were no match for her. Christine felt accomplished and powerful when she was that person, even if she felt like she was also supposed to be pathetic and weak.

Christine was pretty sure it was her other self that had punched Danny. The creep had been hitting on her like he always did, and instead of just being polite and secretly wishing he’d go away, she’d broken his jaw with her fist. And it had felt wonderful. The only thing better than that feeling of impact had been the terror in his eyes, and the way he’d fled from her. Even knowing how much he’d enjoy making her puke on his cock hadn’t diminished her sense of satisfaction. When Mom had found out about it, she’d spent an hour lecturing Christine about how much she’d put herself at risk, in terms of both her academic career and reputation. Dad had just asked her if he deserved the punch, and when she said yes, he’d told her he was proud of her.

The incident had quickly spiraled into something much larger. Danny’s parents had complained to the school, demanding that Christine be expelled, but the principal defended her character and gave her merely a week of detention. That hadn’t gone over well with them at all, and they’d escalated the complaint to the school board. They were rich and had a great deal of influence in the community, but to her surprise Hailey Jeffords, one of the most popular girls in school, had used her social clout to organize a student protest against her expulsion. She’d never been sexually harassed by Danny herself, but many of her friends had, so she’d persuaded them and several other students to step forward and recount what had happened to them. In the end, Christine’s only punishment was the week of detention, and Danny had been the one to get expelled.

Nadine was still pissed at her about that, and Christine was starting to think that their friendship wasn’t going to be salvageable, but she felt oddly okay about losing her best friend. She was as certain as anything else that the girl couldn’t really be relied upon. And her social circle had unexpectedly grown thanks to the event. Sandy had been one of the students to speak up in Christine’s defense and share a story of harassment, and Christine had discovered that her seemingly cold attitude was thanks to social anxiety more than anything else. She was actually a very sweet, if rather sheltered girl, once Christine had gotten to know her. And Millie, an old friend that she hadn’t seen much of in the last few years, had been super impressed by what Christine had done, and it had led to them reconnecting. Between the two of them, Christine had soon realized she wasn’t missing Nadine at all.

There had been good days like that in the last month, days where she felt like a better, more confident version of herself. When she was like that, her life seemed fantastic, and she couldn’t wait to experience more of it. But then there were the bad days. During those times, she felt ashamed and small and worthless. It didn’t feel right for her to have friends. It didn’t feel right for her to have a family. She was supposed to be alone and miserable. Whenever she was in that state, she found herself fighting the urge to go slip away somewhere and kill herself before anyone could stop her.

It was getting harder and harder to resist.

Christine realized she’d been staring at the same page in her textbook for the last ten minutes without reading a single word on it. She put it down and rested her head in her hands. She was so tired. At first, there had been more good days than bad, but the balance had changed over time. Almost every day was bad now, and worse than the last. The dream memories came more frequently, and it was getting difficult to remember that they weren’t really hers.

And now there was this feeling too, the one telling her that her entire life was about to collapse around her. It was getting exponentially stronger with each passing minute. It almost felt like she was choking, and part of her wanted to scream. The moment was coming soon. It would be here any second. It was…

It was here.

Right now.

Christine didn’t know why, but she was absolutely certain. This was it, the the moment things would change. Her fingers touched the desk. He would tie her down here, she thought absently, with her own clothes. Blind her and gag her. Once she was helpless, he’d have his way with her, while her family remained oblivious downstairs. He would rape her, and then he’d do it again, and again, and again. For the rest of her life, her insides would never feel clean again. And everything would only get worse from there…

It was the most vivid dream memory Christine had felt by far. She could almost taste the shirt in her mouth, and feel her rapist’s fingers as they crawled over her skin. She shook her head, trying to dismiss the memory, but it refused to go away. If anything, it grew stronger, until she could barely tell what was real and what was the memory. She was supposed to be getting raped right now. She had been raped right now. She was being raped right now. And in a few day she would be raped in the bathroom, blindfolded again and cuffed to the toilet. His cum would taste bitter and he wouldn’t let her breathe until she’d swallowed it all. And then he’d start visiting her very night… she trembled. It was just more than just one memory coming back to her, it was a flood. Years worth of them pressed on her mind insistently, demanding to be let in.

If she let them, they would consume her. She knew that as an absolute truth. There would be no Christine Summers left, only her other self, and neither of them wanted that. She could feel them both straining against the surge, but it was stronger than either of them, and stronger still every second. Danny, her sister, her mother, her father, him… the memories swirled in her head as shadows, holding the shape of the thing without the substance. She could see them, but not truly feel them. They still belonged to someone else. For now. They were becoming sharper and more defined, a lifetime of horrors creeping into her head to transform her into a broken thing.

She would be his again. She’d known that she could never change that. Even when she’d shot him, she’d known it, that she could kill him, but he would remain inside her. He’d made her into something less than human, and no amount of time could ever undo that. That was why she’d saved the last bullet. She’d lied when she said the gun was never meant for herself. It was always meant for both of them.

Christine moaned. These weren’t her thoughts, but they were in her head, drowning out her own. The memories were becoming clearer, and far more powerful than the flimsy ones of the last eighteen years. What day was today? How old was she? Had he already raped her? Was her father still alive? Had she gotten married yet? She fell to the floor clutching her head and gasping, choking on a neverending stream of pain and degradation. There was nothing they could do to stop this. No way to prevent herself from coming back.

No. No, there was. The bathroom. There would be a razor in the bathroom. A few quick cuts would do it. It would barely hurt. She scrambled to her feet and staggered to the door, throwing it open and-

“Heya splort,” Rebecca said cheerfully, standing in the doorway. “Guess who came by for a surprise visit?” Her smile faded as she took in her sister’s expression. “…What’s wrong?”

Christine flinched, staring at her sister. The memories in her head were screaming a thousand different warnings. Rebecca hated her, despised her, wanted her dead. But behind the terror and the panic was another feeling, buried deep but even stronger, and it rushed in to sweep away everything else. Christine trembled, and then her feelings overwhelmed her and stumbled forward to embrace her sister.

“I missed you!” she cried, squeezing as tightly as she could, tears running down her face. “Oh God, I missed you! I’m so sorry! It was all my fault! It’s okay if you hate me! It’s okay if you kill me!”

Rebecca’s arms wrapped around her, drawing her into the warm hug. “It’s okay, Chrissy,” her sister said. “It’s okay, I promise.”

“No, it’s not!” Christine protested, sobbing. In the back of her head, she knew that she sounded ridiculous, that Rebecca didn’t know about any of this, but she couldn’t stop the words from pouring out. “You were hurt because of me! He did so many awful things to you, and it was all because of me! And I killed him, Becky, but he’s still winning! He’s still in my head and I can’t get him out! I’ll never be anything more than what he turned me into!”

“You mean Jordan?” Rebecca asked softly.

Christine froze. “You… you’re not… you’re not supposed to…”

“Not supposed to remember? I don’t, not really,” Rebecca said. “Not any specifics. But I think the bastard rewound me so many times that I ended up with a head like an old videotape. What’s there is all garbage and faded imprints, and I spent most of last month thinking I was just going crazy, but there was enough to connect the dots eventually. Then Dad called today to tell me he was worried about you. You didn’t get away so easily, huh?”

“I don’t want to remember,” Christine whined. “But I can’t stop it! It’s all coming back and I’ll just be his worthless fucktoy slave again, even if he’s dead and gone! I can’t-” Rebecca laughed.

“Sorry, sorry,” she said. “But that’s maybe the silliest thing you’ve ever told me, Chrissy. You were never that.”

“I was!” Christine insisted. “I am! He used me and he hurt me and I let him do it! Because I was stupid and pathetic and I deserved everything I got!”

“Oh yeah?” Rebecca said dryly. “Then why are you here and he’s not?”

“Because… because…”

Rebecca sighed, but there was love in it, and she drew her sister in closer to her, stroking her hair with one hand. “Listen to me, Chrissy, okay? You are stronger than him. You always have been.”

“No, I’m not!” Christine said, trying to squirm away. “I couldn’t, I couldn’t protect you from him! I couldn’t stop him from doing what he did to you!”

“That wasn’t your fault,” said Rebecca. “ I’m the one who was too weak to resist. And I remember enough to know that I hurt you terribly. You don’t need to apologize to me, Christine. I need to apologize to you.”

“No! It was all my fault that-”

“No,” Rebecca said firmly. “It was not your fault. None of it was your fault, Christine. You didn’t make him rape you, or make him hurt me, or any of the other million shitty things he did over the years. That was all on him, do you understand? He doesn’t get to put one fucking iota of the blame on anyone else. And these memories of him, they don’t define you. No matter what else you remember, remember this: you are Christine Summers. You are smart, and you are courageous, and you beat that sadistic son of a bitch and his bullshit powers.”

Christine couldn’t tell which version of her she was right now. She wasn’t certain that they were even separate anymore. “You… you mean you don’t hate me?” she asked in a small voice. “For what happened?”

She felt Rebecca’s tears drip onto her head. “No,” her sister said hoarsely. “I love you, Christine. Do you hate me?”

“No,” Christine whispered, feeling like a weight that she’d been holding for years had finally vanished. “I love you too, Rebecca.”

For a long minute the two sisters embraced, neither saying anything. Christine surrendered herself to the memories, letting them fill her head. No matter what happened, no matter what lay in her past, she was here, and she was loved, and that was all she needed. She could feel that her other self was gone. No, not gone, part of her. They were simply Christine now, and Christine remembered everything.

And then the memories began to fade. Not just the new ones, but the old memories too, the ones about her father and her teachers and everyone else. Deep down, she realized, she’d been the one calling them all this time, holding onto them. She’d thought that she needed all her old memories as penance, as a reminder of all the horrible things she’d let happen. But she didn’t need to punish herself, or agonize over what she should have done. She was here, and she was loved. She was here, and she was loved.

Christine let the memories go, and they drifted away like any other dream.

“I think… I think I’m going to be okay,” she told Rebecca.

“Of course you’re going to be okay,” Rebecca replied. “Didn’t you hear me? You’re Christine Summers.” She giggled. “Come on, why don’t we go downstairs? I’ll make you some of my special popcorn.”

“I’m not old enough to drink alcohol yet,” Christine reminded her. She was only eighteen again, and she was going to enjoy it.

Rebecca rolled her eyes. “Fine, I’ll make you the regular, boring kind of popcorn then,” she amended. “Come on, splort.”

“Can, can we stay like this for just one more minute, Becky?” Christine asked.

“Of course,”said Rebecca gently. “As long as you need, Chrissy.”

Her sister was warm and soft, and Christine felt safe and secure and loved in her arms. She knew she couldn’t keep hugging her sister forever. Soon they would separate and go downstairs, and time would march on. And that was a good thing. Christine had her whole life ahead of her, a life that promised happiness and joy and everything else that Jordan had tried to steal from her. But for now, she basked in their embrace, and for just a moment, time stood still for them.