Faith in Miracles

By the time he’d owned her for a week, Wilson knew that abducting Heather Matthews was the best decision of his life.

His blonde nun fucktoy gurgled around his shaft as he pumped his seventh load of the day into her stomach. He’d only been on the road two hours today, but that bit of advice he’d given her had eventually sunk in: he’d never seen a more eager cocksucker. She spent at least ten hours a day locked to his belt while he drove, shaft down her throat and balls packed in her cheeks, and never stopped trying to make him cum. Even now, as his cock began to soften, the last of his seed still leaking from its tip, her tongue was gently caressing his nuts in silent encouragement to feed her more.

That was the piss and cum diet at work. Wilson had already conceded to himself that he couldn’t keep that up forever; completely ruining her until she was just a broken spunk filled corpse was still the goal, but he wanted enough time to really destroy her before she died, and at this rate she wouldn’t make it another week. But he hadn’t told her that yet, and these days her mouth serviced his cock like every drop of jizz meant the difference between life and death.

He didn’t even need the spreader gag anymore. He’d been wary at first about the possibility of her biting, but his church slut was far too cowardly for that. Heather had literally pissed herself in fear when he detailed all the ways he would make suffer if he ever felt the slightest hint of a tooth. He’d demonstrated a few of the less permanent ones on her too, just to be sure the warning stuck. She’d screamed herself hoarse when he’d pried all her toenails off, which meant she could only manage raspy, breathless cries of agony when he’d moved on to using his cigarette lighter to sear the word FUCKMEAT across her stomach.

It couldn’t ALWAYS be fun and games with his new obsession. He did have a job to do, and that included the loading and unloading of the truck, which meant other people entering their space. But being bound and gagged in that little cooler kept her quiet and unseen. He could have tried to hide her away in a corner, but he preferred to place her somewhere visible, a central location where she’d be certain to sense the people all around her, potential saviors just inches away and completely oblivious to her existence.

Occasionally someone would try to open it, not noticing the prominent padlocks, and ask him what the deal was with the locked cooler. “I just use that as a trash can,” he’d tell them. “Could open it for you, but it stinks like shit in there.” Then he’d give the thing a hard kick, and imagine he could hear its occupant whimper.

Hell, sometimes it was nice to just drag the cooler outside, sit down on it, and relax with a beer.  The air inside the truck could get stale sometimes, especially after a few cigarettes, and the outside air tasted all the sweeter knowing she wasn’t getting to appreciate it. “You were right, it is a big, beautiful world out here, fuckmeat,” he’d said once as he sat. “And all the more beautiful without a filthy cumdump like you polluting it.”

But most of his week had passed exactly like this, with his cock warm and snug in his little slut’s throat. “Got a little something special for you tonight,” he told her now while she worked hard to earn her eighth helping of jizz. He laughed to himself. “Be shocked if you survive an entire year, so if we’re gonna mark anniversaries, better make them weekly, right?”

Heather let out a fresh sob at that. She still pleaded with him every day to find Jesus and set her free or whatever, but by now even a dumb bitch like her understood that was never going to happen. She’d be his until she died, and that wasn’t going to take long. Diet aside, he was slowly fucking her to death, and he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to.

“I know, slut,” he mocked. “You’re worried I won’t have time to tenderize my fuckmeat tonight. But we’ll MAKE time, I promise. Gotta keep you properly fuckable.” She sobbed again. Tenderizing was what Wilson called beating the shit out of her before every rape. He might slap around her zip tied and paper clipped titties for a while, or take his belt to her supple ass cheeks, or put some cigarettes out on her tongue. The only rule was that he had to make her suffer, and boy did he. There was no better foreplay in his mind than turning her into a shuddering, weeping wreck even before he slammed his cock into her.

The next eight hours of driving passed in a pleasant blur of cum shots and piss guzzling. By the time she was crawling into the sleeper cabin to begin their celebration, ten straight hours of enthusiastic cocksucking had left Heather utterly exhausted, and her limbs trembled from more than just fear as she waited for what came next.

Wilson showed her the large stainless steel dog bowl he’d bought for her. It even had her name written on it in sharpie over a strip of tape. FUCKMEAT, of course, not HEATHER. “Ready to celebrate your first week with some solid food?”

“Yes sir!” Heather said sincerely, her eyes shining with more than tears for the first time. “Thank you, sir, I swear you won’t regret it, not ever! I’ll work extra hard to make you th-the happiest master in the world, I promise!”

“Glad to hear it, fuckmeat,” he said, and produced the can. “Time for 400 calories of the cheapest expired dog food money can buy.” The sludge that dribbled out into her food bowl was brown, watery, and had a sharp rancid scent that made Wilson grimace. It looked like diarrhea and smelled worse.

He expected Heather to balk at eating anything so disgusting, but the slut didn’t hesitate. She didn’t even try to use her hands, smart enough to realize that wasn’t what he wanted. The blonde bitch stuck her head right into the bowl and began eagerly lapping up her meal. Despite her enthusiasm, she still gagged and faltered for a moment when the taste hit her, but then she gamely pressed on.

“The fucking nerve of you,” Wilson commented as he happily watched her eat. “Thinking you could be a nun. A lot of nuns going around naked and on all fours back at the convent? Ever see any of them slurping dog food out of a bowl?”

“No sir,” Heather answered obediently as her tongue diligently mopped up every last brown streak on the steel.

“Yeah. Fucking ridiculous they ever let you pretend to be one of them. What are you really?”

“I’m just fuckmeat, sir.” She knew what he wanted to hear. “Just a worthless toy put on this world to help you produce more cum.”

He should’ve left it there, but he couldn’t help himself. “And does God love fuckmeat?”

Heather froze. “God… God loves everyone, sir,” she said slowly.

Wilson’s temper flared. The bitch knew that was the wrong answer, and gave it anyway. Blatant fucking disobedience, and from a slut normally so eager to please that she’d nearly passed out titfucking him last night. And all because of this religious shit. It had been hilarious the first time, amusing the second, and fucking annoying every time after.

He forced himself to bite back his reaction. He’d make the stuck up cunt pay tonight, but first came dinner. So he just pulled out a second can. “400 calories ain’t much to go on. How about another?”

Heather twitched in surprise; she’d been expecting punishment. “Y-yes, sir!” she stammered. “Your, your fuckmeat would love another helping!”

The second can smelled as bad as the first, and seemed like it was no better taste wise, but Heather’s enthusiasm in eating it appeared completely sincere. After a week living off his body fluids, she was just that hungry.

Her enthusiasm dimmed slightly for the third can, though, and took a clear dive for the fourth. “I, I don’t know if I can manage any more, sir,” she said doubtfully when he offered a fifth identical can.

“Sure you can, fuckmeat,” he said, pouring it into her bowl anyway. “Dig in.”

Enthusiasm gave way to obedience, and Heather mechanically performed her task, lapping up a fifth, sixth, and seventh helping even though she was clearly feeling stuffed and nauseated. At this point, she would’ve been miserable forcing filet mignon down her throat, let alone a slurry of spoiled animal fat and byproducts.

She gagged when she saw the eight can. “Please, sir,” she tried. “I, if I eat anymore, I’ll…”

He didn’t bother answering, just poured it in. Heather looked down at the brown mess in dismay, then got to work.

Halfway through the ninth can, she finally threw up.

The vomit that erupted from her mouth didn’t look all that different from her original meal. The addition of bile made it a little thicker, added a slight orange tinge, but it was otherwise pretty similar. Her puke filled the bowl nearly to the brim, and Wilson was thankful he’d chosen the largest size available in anticipation.

Heather looked down at more than half a gallon of greasy vomit sludge. “I, I didn’t mean to, sir!” she said in a panic, looking back up at him. “I, I…”

“Finish your meal, fuckmeat,” he told her coldly.

Wilson watched her expression change as she processed his order. Confusion first, then disbelief, disgust, and finally weary acceptance. “Y-yes sir,” she said.

Regurgitated expired dog food seemed to taste even worse than regular expired dog food, and Heather no longer had the motivation of her hunger to help. The blonde fucktoy looked utterly miserable as her tired tongue lapped up mouthfuls of warm, slimy puke. Wilson considered ordering her to go faster, but this slower pace was good too. Gave her time to savor it all.

“This is how we celebrate every week for the rest of your life,” he informed her when she was almost done. “With 4000 calories of dog food to help you survive to the next. You love it so much you want keep puking it up and gobbling it back down, you go right ahead, but we’re not done here until it’s all in your belly.”

To his delight, the revelation that this disgusting meal was going to be a weekly tradition sent Heather over the edge, retching violently until her bowl was as full as ever. She didn’t bother begging for mercy when it was over, just stared into the mess, a strand of bile drooling from her  mouth, and then leaned in to start all over again.

His blonde nun fucktoy threw up twice more before she succeeded. She nearly did it a fifth time when he showed her the unopened tenth can, but she managed to keep everything down while she lapped up her final helping.

“Now that you’ve got a full belly, we can finally have some fun tonight.” Heather’s shoulders slunk at the reminder that she still had an entire night of rape and torture ahead of her. “Let’s get started, fuckmeat.”

He’d had a few ideas for how he wanted to tenderize her this time, but by now he knew exactly what he wanted. Soon, Heather swung from the air by her wrists, her stomach visibly bloated. “Be a shame if you lose your dinner,” he told her, and she almost looked grateful when she saw the penis gag he was holding, one of the many items he’d purchased this week for tormenting her.

He’d gone with the largest size the shop had, and Heather could barely breathe while he buckled the straps around the back of her head, its length a thick bulge in her throat. It did a good job keeping her quiet too; when he snapped the clover clamp onto her clit, its dull metal jaws digging into her flesh, he could barely hear her yelp of pain. Even her shrieks when he took the dangling cord and tied it off to a ring on the floor, causing the clamp to bite and tug with every movement of her body, came out as soft moans.

It didn’t take long for the blonde slut to realize she needed to keep as still as possible if she didn’t want her clit chewed on. Which meant she looked even more horrified than usual when she saw the cattle prod. “Gonna give you a little quiz, fuckmeat,” he said, jabbing the prongs deep into her swollen belly. “See how much you’ve learned this last week. Get an answer wrong…”

He pulled the trigger, and Heather began to violently convulse as several thousand volts ran through her. He knew that she found the prod incredibly painful, and that was before adding clit torture to the experience. Little high pitched whines that had begun as full throated screams leaked from her cock stuffed mouth, and her clitoris was visibly red and sore by the time it was over.

“Since your mouth is busy, you’ll answer with your tits instead. If the answer is yes, bounce them up and down. For no, shake them back and forth. Understand?”

When she didn’t respond, he pulled the trigger again, turning her back into a quivering, whining ball of pure agony. “Understand?” he repeated.

This time Heather got the message. Using her bound wrists for leverage, she swayed her upper body slightly, making her chest gently bob up and down while moving the rest of her body as little as possible. “I said make them BOUNCE, fuckmeat,” he snarled, and this time he jabbed the prod right into her left tit before shocking her.

As soon as she’d recovered enough to control her muscles she obeyed, swaying hard enough to make her fat titties dance wildly in the air. From the way the rest of her body tensed and her mouth made little squeaky sounds of distress, it made her stretched and bitten clit hurt like hell, but it was preferable to the cattle prod.

He let her keep going at it for about ten seconds before he asked the first real question. “Will you ever step foot outside this truck again?’

Heather twisted her body sharply from side to side, funbags flapping back and forth. As he would for every question, he took the time to enjoy the sight before he continued.

“Will you spend multiple hours a day, every day, for the rest of your sorry life, sucking my cock like a whore?”

The blonde slut bounced her titties yes.

He slapped her ass, making her jolt. “True or false question this time. Hump the air for true, wag your butt for false. All of this is your own fault for being so fucking stupid you accepted an open drink from a complete stranger.”

Heather swung her hips, fucking an imaginary cock as she agreed that she had only herself to blame.

“True or false: I only hurt you because I have to. Someday when you’ve learned to say everything right, do everything right, and keep my cock in a state of perpetual bliss, I’ll consider not torturing you before every fuck.”

Heather waved her ass from side to side like a needy whore to confirm that would never happen.

“You still a virgin?”

She shook her tits no.

“Is that because I turned your cunt into a well used, stretched out, cum plastered, stapled open fuckhole?”

She bounced her tits yes.

“Will anyone else ever get to enjoy that tight twat?”

Such juicy flopping funbags.

“Do you like having your tits zip tied and paper clipped?”

Her suffering titties had never looked prettier as they swung back and forth.

“Think you’ll be dead before I ever take them off?”

They were just as pretty bouncing up and down.

“True or false: the police will catch me before I kill you.”

She looked so fucking sexy as she wagged her butt.

“True or false: someday I’ll jerk off onto your corpse.”

And so fucking slutty as she humped her hips.

“You like being my cum guzzler?”

Her throbbing, bound and swollen melons swung from side to side, and he almost had to stop right there so he could titfuck the teasing slut.

“True or false: a human being can live for a long time on piss, cum, and spoiled dog food.”

Her spread pussy looked amazing as she swung her hips, uncertain but hopeful… almost as good as her tits looked when he shocked her with the cattle prod again. “Fucking moron. You really think even fuckmeat can survive for long on nothing but filth and empty calories? Try again.”

After a moment of hesitation, she shook her butt. God, it looked so enticing as it swayed.

“That’s right. Better question: do I care?”

Those huge flopping titties.

“When I’m done tenderizing you, should I try and turn your cunt inside out?”

Those fat jiggling melons.

“True or false: once we’ve got you properly knocked up, with a big swollen belly, I’ll have to go a little easier on you.”

That firm bobbing ass.

“True or false: later tonight, you’re going to thank me for this quiz with a long, sloppy throatfuck.”

Those slender thrusting hips.

Wilson itched to fuck the little whore right now, but he still had the most important question left. “Does God love you?”

Heather’s breath caught, and she looked like a deer in headlights. Come on, slut, he silently urged, you know the answer to this one. He knew he shouldn’t care less what went on in her head, but her continued faith told him that despite all appearances to the contrary, she wasn’t completely broken yet. So if he backed down and started treating her better, it would be… it would be like she’d won. Even if she broke later, he’d always know that she’d taken the worst he had to offer and stayed standing. There was no fucking way he could let that happen.

The stubborn bitch bounced her tits yes.

Wilson slammed the cattle prod into her stomach like it was a spear to impale her, pushing her body backwards and making her whine in agony even before he shocked her. He’d never seen her clit stretched so obscenely, even when he played with the pliers. “Wrong answer, fuckmeat!” he snarled, not letting up on the trigger. “Does God love your worthless ass?!”

Heather was shrieking incoherently and flailing every which way, but that wasn’t a no.

“You’re just a dirty, piss drinking slut! The only reason you’re alive is to help keep my balls pumping out cum! You really think God gives a shit about such a pathetic, disgusting, jizz gulper?!”

He wasn’t going to stop until he got the answer he wanted. He’d kill the cunt before he let her get away with this delusion.

“You’re nothing!” he screamed in her face, covering her features in spittle as she convulsed. “You’re fucking nothing! Just filthy garbage! Cum soaked trash!” The cattle prod was buzzing unhappily as he finally took his finger off the trigger.

He adjusted the angle, and speared her twat in a single violent thrust. Wilson shoved the prod in until it was pressed hard against her cervix, and then got back to electrocuting the bitch. Her jerking, spasming body didn’t even look human anymore; she was just a jittering puppet with its strings tangled. “God has NEVER loved you, slut! He hates you even more than I do! That’s why he gave you to me! Because I’m the only one who can treat you like you deserve!”

Piss ran down the length of the prod, and Wilson realizes she’d blacked out from the pain. He almost kept going anyway, frying her cunt until she was just a hanging slab of meat, but he forced himself to stop. It would be a fucking shame to only have a week with her, and even worse to kill her while she was too unconscious to appreciate it.

He left the cattle prod buried inside her, though, and when she woke up a couple minutes later, he slipped his finger over the trigger again. “Try again, fuckmeat,” he said coldly, ready to electrocute her all over again. “Does God love you?”

Heather hesitated only a second before shaking her tits no.

Fucking finally.

“Has God ever loved you?” No. “Does he hate you?” Yes. “Was he disgusted that a sexy stuck up cunt like you thought she could be one of his nuns?” Yes. “That’s why he sent you to me?” Yes. “God’s plan is for Heather Matthews has always been for you to be my suffering, screaming cut of fuckmeat?” Yes.

Wilson’s foul mood evaporated as the stupid slut and her plump titties continued to agree that she was worthless, unloved trash, and God wanted nothing to do with her. That was all he’d ever wanted. That and to slowly fuck her to death over the coming weeks and months.

Minutes later, she was on the floor, and he was balls deep in her cunt. The electrocution had scorched her insides, but his nun fucktoy didn’t let the agony of his heavy thrusts stop her from wrapping her legs around him. He chewed happily on her zip tied tits and she mewled helplessly, her twat involuntarily clenching tighter. When he looked into her eyes, he saw no anger, only shame and the fear of her owner becoming displeased with her.

As sex went, it was better than any of the whores he’d ever fucked, and made all the more fantastic by the knowledge that it was also nothing really remarkable. Just the first fuck of the evening, with several more to come. This pretty squealing thing beneath him was his to degrade, torture, and violate until she’d drained his balls beyond recovery. And tomorrow they’d do it all over again.

Wilson couldn’t imagine time better spent. He was never going to get sick of this bitch.

*

Several months later, he was getting sick of this bitch.

“Rise and shine, fuckmeat,” Wilson announced, his words accompanied by a spray of urine that hit his slave in the cheek before finding her open mouth.

Heather sputtered awake, limbs twitching. Her face twisted in revulsion as the taste of his hot piss reached her, but she couldn't have turned away if she'd wanted to, completely immobilized in the cooler once more. She was on her back, arms up on either sides of her head, where the wrists were held by cuffs nailed in place along its walls. The jackknife position she was forced into brought her ankles just above her wrists, similarly held by two more cuffs. Even her head was trapped, her hair tied in a rough knot around one of the inner handles.

It was an uncomfortable position after a few minutes. After a few hours, it was agonizing. The only reason Heather managed to get any sleep at all anymore was the sheer exhaustion that overrode the pain and shut her body down. As she woke up, sore muscles began to clamber for attention, and she let out a quiet whimper.

Wilson directed the stream downwards to splash her tits, and let the last few drops fall to her bare mound. “O Christ Jesus,” he heard her whisper. “When all is darkness, and we feel our weakness and helplessness...”

This was half the reason that lately he’d found himself contemplating just slitting her throat and getting one last fuck in while she choked to death on her own blood. In the beginning, he’d thought he could just beat the religion out of her, but he’d been wrong. Push her hard enough and she’d say or do anything, but it was always just to make the pain stop. She still BELIEVED in all the same shit.

He raised his foot and stamped it into her stomach, leaving a dirty shoe print and the beginning of yet another ugly bruise. “Are you ever going to stop with that ridiculous drivel?! You really think some angel's going to swoop in and save you?”

Heather wheezed at the kick, but kept going. “Give us the sense of Your presence, Your love, and Your strength. Help us to have perfect trust in Your protecting lo-”

“Enough of that!” he snarled. “As if anybody up there would be listening to a worthless piece of fuckmeat like you. Salvation's for innocent virgins, bitch, and that sure ain't you anymore. God doesn't give a shit about you now. Just another dirty slut on her way to Hell.”

“S-salvation is always possible for any who, who seek it,” she stammered. “G-God forgives all-”

“I told you to shut the fuck up!” he yelled, and she obeyed, remaining quiet as he undid her bondage. If only it was that simple to silence the thoughts in her head. Deep inside, this stuck up cunt still thought she was more than just his cum dump, and it made him fucking despise her in a way he hadn’t back in the beginning. Making her suffer was no longer just about his own enjoyment, it was about punishing her for still defying him after all this time.

Knots untied and locks opened, Wilson hauled Heather up and out of the cooler. Her legs trembled weakly as they struggled and only barely managed to support her. “You miss me?” he asked her.

“Y-yes, sir,” she answered obediently. He didn’t even think she was lying. He'd left her in there last night and now it was late evening, nearly twenty four hours later. It must have felt like an eternity to her in that cramped shitbox. “I, I thought you might have abandoned me.”

“Don't think I haven't been tempted,” he told her bluntly. He wasn’t lying either. He honestly couldn’t tell if it was his growing hatred of her that made him increasingly itch to be rid of her, or if that same hatred was the only reason she was still alive. If she’d become the broken dead eyed cock sleeve he wanted, maybe he would’ve snuffed her ages ago. “You look like hot garbage these days. And you smell like a fucking sewer.” She cringed at the accurate assessment.

Heather had been… fun, at first. As fun as he’d hoped she’d be and more. She’d spent her days swallowing his cock while he drove, and her nights learning how to be the most talented piece of fuckmeat this side of the Mississippi. Before long, she could deepthroat like a champ, and ride his cock as well as any desperate crack whore.

But the good times couldn’t last forever. There was little trace of the sweet, beautiful Christian girl that had entered his truck a season ago. Her hair was matted in filthy, greasy clumps, her limbs pale and emaciated. The dirt couldn't hide the red lines all over her arms and legs either, marks from the various bondage positions he’d left her in, often for hours at a time. Her nipples were angry and swollen, still zip tied up and locked together by the paper clip piercing them both. The piercings had become infected eventually, and Wilson had ended up treating them with rubbing alcohol, a procedure that had made Heather scream until her voice gave out. He'd been more careful when he pierced her clit with a second paper clip, heating it up with a lighter first before sticking it in.

She stank too, of sweat and urine and feces. She'd long ago learned that fuckmeat wasn’t allowed to use toilets, or even to squat in the corner to do their business. He expected her to just piss or shit herself when the time came, usually while trapped in the cooler overnight, and eventually biological need had overcome her willpower and shame. He'd never once cleaned the cooler, so by now she slept in a shallow but ever growing pool of her own filth, her back and limbs coated with dried residue.

Wilson was aware that most of his problems with Heather were self inflicted. If he’d taken better care of her, bothered to clean her up sometimes, she’d probably be as fuckable as ever. Even now, her rancid state was nothing that a few weeks of rest and some long baths couldn’t clear up. She’d last for years if he could just show some restraint. But he couldn’t help it. She was physically repugnant, and at the same time, he’d never found her sexier. Her actual state was disgusting, but the idea of her, the knowledge that he’d taken such a cute innocent thing and turned her into a walking garbage toilet, was enthralling. He had to see this through. Had to let this play out, even knowing that the only ending was going to be a shattered toy in an early grave. He’d fucked plenty of other women before, and would do so again; how often did he get the chance to destroy one?

If only he could break the rest of that fucking spirit of hers, she’d be perfect. He still didn’t know whether he’d rather fuck her silly or smash her skull in once she was truly his, and he didn’t care. Either way, it needed to happen, and soon.

The miserable girl licked her dry, cracked lips. “I, I’m sorry to be such a filthy, ugly failure, sir. Maybe I’d be m-more fun for master to fuck if I had a bath? I, I'd clean up real nice, sir, I swear.” Her eyes were downcast as she said it, her tone defeated. She’d been begging for the chance to clean up for weeks and weeks, and he’d rejected her every time, so she expected today to be no different. The only reason she kept trying was her sheer revulsion at her state of constant filth. At night, if he didn’t stick anything in her mouth to keep her silent, he could hear her occasionally gagging and retching, so disgusted by her own stench and condition that she had to fight the urge to vomit. It was a battle she often lost; dried puke was just one more layer of scum on her.

But this time, he pretended to actually consider her request. “You think you'd be fuckable again if you were cleaned up?”

“Y-yes, sir!” Heather said quickly, surprised but anxious not to miss this opportunity. “Your fuckmeat just wants to please you, sir. I don't mean to be so gross. I want to, to generate lots of white sticky cum from your balls!”

Wilson smiled. He’d made sure she never forgot the reason all of this was happening to her. “Then it’s your lucky day, fuckmeat, because that's what I was busy doing today: finding you a bath.”

Her eyes lit up a little, and he caught the faintest glimmer of the smiling upbeat girl who’d hitched a ride with him. “H-honest?”

Wilson nodded solemnly. “I promise, we’re going to clean every last inch of you today. Sound good?”

She nodded again. “Oh yes, sir! Thank you sir! I promise your fuckmeat will do her best to make you spurt more jizz!”

He took hold of her leash and tugged. The other end of it was attached to her sore paper clipped nipples, and she squealed softly at the pain before hurrying to follow as quickly as she could. Wilson directed her to stand on a small crate he'd placed at the center of the sleeping cabin and cuffed her wrists behind her. A chain tied to a ceiling hook went around her cuffs, short enough that she had bend her upper body and bring her arms up as high as she could to reach. Once she was secure, he kicked the crate away, leaving her dangling by her wrists with her bare feet a few inches above the floor.

Heather licked her lips again, suddenly nervous. “Is it gonna be cold water from a hose, sir?” He’d experimented with that a couple times in the beginning, but that had been in spring, when the groundwater was still icy cold and the bitch shrieked like he was killing her when he turned the spray on her. Once things had warmed up, he’d lost interest.

“Nope. This will be warm and gentle, I promise.”

Her eyes darted from side to side as she tried to figure out what the catch was going to be. “Then, then is it something painful?”

“Nope. I'll be perfectly honest, fuckmeat: this will feel better than anything I've done to you since you got here.”

“R-really?” He was tickled at the nervous hope in her tone. Hating her didn’t stop her behavior from being adorable sometimes. The more he mistreated her, the more tightly she seized on even the slightest act of kindness. The other day, when she’d been munching her latest dog food, he’d been finishing off some leftover delivery pizza, and on impulse he’d poured some of the cold pizza grease from the box into her bowl. He’d honestly expected her to be indifferent to it, if not disgusted, but instead she’d reacted like he’d handed her an actual piping hot pizza to eat, thanking him profusely and eagerly lapping it up. She’d spent a long time licking the bowl clean after that, determined to hunt down every last drop of grease.

“Really. You ready?”

“Yes sir!”

Wilson grinned, and returned to the passenger cabin to haul back what he'd spent the morning and afternoon acquiring. He’d nearly resigned himself to wringing out a few more days of pleasure with his prize, then killing her and moving on. But inspiration had struck. There was a way he could maintain her a little better, keep her fuckable and healthy long term, without making her treatment even slightly less cruel. And best of all, it might finally break the last of that fucking spirit of hers, in a way no physical abuse could have ever managed.

Heather's eyes went wide as she saw what he had with him. “Mom?!”

Mrs. Grace Matthews tried to answer back, but the o-ring in her mouth had a pair of his dirty socks stuffed in the hole. She was all but naked, wearing only a black collar and a set of ankle and wrist cuffs. Rings on the side of the collar were interlocked with rings on the wrist cuffs, locking her arms to her neck. Aside from the twenty year age difference, Wilson was impressed by how much she looked like her daughter, at least her daughter pre captivity. She had the same curly blonde hair, the same facial features, even the same delicious rack. If there had been some makeup to hide the age lines, they could have been mistaken for sisters only a decade or so apart.

Capturing her had been ridiculously easy. He'd gotten the idea while browsing the internet last week, after his slave had drained his balls and been put away for the night. He'd gone looking for anything about Heather's disappearance, any signs of an ongoing investigation, and found only a small local article in which her mother had pleaded for her missing daughter to come home. He'd found her Facebook page, been astounded at how good a forty eight year old mother of three still looked, and started making plans.

All it had taken was a phone call. He'd called her from a burner phone a few minutes after her work shift was due to end, reaching her while she was alone in her car. He'd told her that he was a trucker who had picked up a hitchhiker matching Heather's description just a few hours ago. His story was that she was currently sleeping in the passenger seat, and he wanted to bring her home while she couldn't argue.

The gullible woman had believed him completely, and eagerly accepted his offer to meet up. He'd started just a few miles away, giving him an excuse to keep her on the line the whole time asking for directions, with no chance to tell anyone else the news.

Their paths had intersected at a quiet country road. Grace had hugged him when he'd first stepped out, crying with gratitude. The hug had turned into a grapple, and he'd forced her down into the dirt, ripping away her clothes and forcing the cuffs and collar on her. After that, he'd simply left her gagged in the driver's cabin and gone to wake up her daughter.

Heather wore an expression of disbelieving horror, her mouth hanging open. “...no...” she was whispering. “No, no, this isn't happening... this isn't happening...” Her mother, on the other hand, looked absolutely furious. She tried to kick at Wilson as he dragged her over, but the chain connecting her ankle cuffs together stopped her.

“Please let her go, sir!” Heather begged finally, recovering from her shock. Her voice was high pitched and distressed; the bitch sounded like she was on the verge of a panic attack. “I'm all you need! I'll fuck you any way you like, I promise! I'll do really really good, and you can hurt me as much as you want! You don't need anybody else! Please sir, you’ll never need anybody else!”

“Relax, fuckmeat,” Wilson told her. “Your mother's not for fucking. Even your worn out holes are better than her old saggy body. She's just here for that bath.”

He pulled the dirty socks out of Grace’s mouth, and pushed her towards her daughter. “Your little bitch pup has gotten all filthy. You're going to clean her with your tongue.”

The woman spun back towards him, furious. “You... you monster!” she spat. She put her head down and rushed at him as quickly as her ankle chain would allow. He easily dodged, slapping her ass as she went by. She spun around again, but he grabbed the leash hanging off her collar and pulled. Choking, she fell to the ground.

Wilson tied the collar off to one of the wall hooks that he used for fun with Heather, then stepped back and faced his slave. “You saw that, slut. I gave her a chance to do this the easy way,” he said, and cracked his knuckles. “Not my fault your mother's an idiot.”

“Please don't hurt her, sir!” Heather begged. “Please!”

“You offering to be hurt in her place, fuckmeat?”

Heather nodded frantically. “Yes, yes! Thank you sir! You don't have to hurt her!”

“Alright, then,” Wilson said, allowing himself a smile. “It's time to fuck your asshole.”

Heather went white at that news, but she offered no argument.

The fact that his fucktoy still had a virgin asshole had been bothering Wilson for months. The problem was that he’d originally used the threat of it to get her to do all sorts of fun things. It was Heather’s fear of anal that had made her agree to be his toilet paper the very first time he’d asked. If he hadn’t promised to bust open her asshole if she couldn’t deepthroat him well enough, she never would have tried so hard that she used to pass out on his prick. The threat of getting her ass railed had been a constant motivator in her new life.

He’d always intended to fuck her back there at some point, but the honest truth was that he could never find the right time. She was convinced, absolutely convinced, that anal would either kill her or ruin her back there forever. Wilson had gone along with the idea, suggesting that a single backdoor fuck would be enough to leave her needing diapers for the rest of her life. So he couldn’t just roll her onto her stomach one day and shove himself up her tailpipe. It would be such a waste. The moment had to be something special.

And as soon as he saw her mother, he’d known just what that special moment would be.

“Here’s what I want you to do,” he said quietly into Heather’s ear, low enough that her mother wouldn’t be able to hear. “Do everything right, and you’ll end up with a cum drooling butthole, just like every fuckmeat deserves. Make any mistakes, and it’ll be your mother that pays for it. Understand?”

Heather nodded her head fiercely. “Yes, sir,” she said. “I’ll do anything.”

She didn’t look too happy once he told her what he wanted, but to her credit, she didn’t bother trying to beg or talk him out of it. Wilson got behind her, his throbbing cock kissing the entrance to her guts. For once, he didn’t think she’d mind getting tenderized before being fucked, not if it meant putting off her first anal rape a little while longer. All the more reason to skip the foreplay this time. “Get started.”

His toy gulped. “Mom?” she said, her voice uncertain. When her mother didn’t respond, her voice hardened. “Mom!” Grace finally looked at her. “Mom, this is my master.”

Grace looked like she was going to be sick as she stared at them both with wild eyes. “Honey,” she began, “you don’t have to-”

“Shut up!” Heather shouted, and then cringed. That was probably the harshest language she’d ever used with her mother. “Mom, you have to listen, okay? I have to… ohh… oh god no…”

Wilson grinned and gripped her hips tighter as he continued squeezing the head of his cock into her tight, outmatched anal ring. If he’d tried this on day one, she might have been able to hold him off for a while, but after months of exhaustion and starvation, her sphincter muscle could only offer a token resistance.

Heather whimpered, then got back on script. “I have to tell you what… what master and I have been doing while I’ve… ow ow please go slow… been gone. He took my first kiss, and he, he was the first one to touch my br- my fat tits, and the first and, and only man to see my virgin cunt.” Wilson had told her to share their many milestones, but he’d left the specifics up to her, and it was amusing to see what she considered important enough to pass on. “And… that’s too deep, please sir, please, just slow down a little… he’s the first man whose cock I’ve tasted, and the first whose balls I’ve sucked, and the first whose piss I’ve drunk and cum I’ve swallowed.”

“Oh, my baby…” Grace whispered, her eyes filling up with tears.

Heather’s asshole was such a smooth and pleasant fuck that it was almost upsetting. He’d been passing up this fuckhole for months? What a fucking waste. As soon as he bottomed out in her warm shithole, Wilson immediately began pulling back, the soft walls of her rectum like absolute heaven on his cock.

“Oh please… oh please…” Heather said, whimpering. “I… I…” She focused on her gaze on her mother again, clearly trying to distract herself from the way Wilson was trying to turn her asshole inside out. “I’ve fucked him with my throat, and my lips, and my pussy, and my tits, and my hands, and my feet. I’ve spent hours on my knees licking him until he’s hard and then sucking him until he’s soft and then licking him all over again, over and over until it’s time to punish me for not being sexy enough to keep it up forever. I’ve used my tongue to clean his cock, and his asshole, and his armpits, and his balls, and his feet, and…” She let out a wordless keen as Wilson reversed course and began stuffing himself back into her. “…I’ve thanked him for pissing down my throat and meant it. I’ve helped him fist my pussy. I, I always try to be a good f-fuck for him even when I don’t have to because may-maybe he’ll decide I’m good enough to keep alive.”

Every thrust in and out was markedly easier than the last, and it wasn’t long at all before the tight asshole he’d forced his way into was just a pleasant vise around his cock. Wilson laid into her, slamming into Heather hard enough that even his own hips ached from the impact. She thought he was going to ruin her forever like this, and he was going to try his best to make her right.

He grabbed a fistful of her sweaty dirty hair and wrenched it back, forcing her to face forward as he used the leverage to fuck her even harder, his balls slapping against her cum dripping pussy. Her breasts were bouncing and jiggling in the air, and he knew from past sessions that it was agony on her paper clipped nipples when that happened, which was more than enough reason to try and make them dance. “You’re not done yet, slut,” he growled at Heather, who’d been reduced to wounded animal noises by now as his hips pistoned back and forth. “Tell her the rest.”

“Y-yes, sir!” the blonde gasped. “He’s whipped my fat tits because I’m just fuckmeat and fuckmeat is fun to hurt, and he’s caned my ass because I’m just fuckmeat and fuckmeat is fun to hurt, and he’s burned the soles of my feet because I’m just fuckmeat and fuckmeat is fun to hurt, and, and, he’s put cigarettes out on my tongue and attached weighted clamps to my clit and used my belly as a punching bag until I puke and shoved my head in the toilet until I pass out and… and… because I’m fuckmeat, and fuckmeat is fun to…”

“Not that, bitch,” Wilson hissed, though there was a smile on his face. She really had been an entertaining toy all these months. “Tell her the important part.” His cock was nearly a blur as he pounded her asshole now, yanking her hair back on every thrust. He grabbed her trailing nipple leash with his other hand and yanked on that too for his next thrust, and was rewarded with a raw shriek of agony. “Quit your fucking whining and tell her!” He yanked her leash again. “Because I’m about to cum soon!” A third yank produced a gurgled whimper of pain that nearly made him cum then and there. “And if I don’t hear you before that, your mother will pay for it.” He was pretty sure that if he tugged on her leash like this too much, he’d rip her nipples off. He yanked it again anyway.

He was slightly worried that she didn’t know what he was talking about and would need further prompting, but she came through in a pinch, like good fuckmeat always did. “I…..” Heather’s voice was a hoarse croak by now, and she shuddered violently with every new tug, but she forced the words out. “I told him… that I love… love him more than Jesus… told him that I will worship him… that if he goes to Hell, I’ll serve him there… I swore to be his fucktoy forever… I… ” He heard the tears in her voice even before they began to roll down her cheeks and patter on the floor. “Mom, I’ll always belong to him… always be… his fuckmeat… fun to hurt…l”

None of that religious crap had ever mattered much to him, except as a way to hurt her. And in that regard, it had been perfect. She’d sobbed for hours after swearing her eternal soul to him. And from the stunned and horrified expression on Grace, like mother like daughter. Wilson slammed into Heather one final time, hilting the entire length of his cock into her virgin bowels for the very last time, and groaned happily as he began filling her guts with spunk. “That’s… that’s a good shithole you’ve got back there…” he said, a little out of breath. He patted Heather’s head like a dog. “We’re going to have lots of fun with it from now on.” She whimpered softly.

Satisfied, he pulled his soft dick out of her hole while Heather wept quietly. “It's time for you to begin pulling your weight, toilet,” he said, and approached Grace. “Starting with some cock cleaning.”

“Wait…” Heather begged, raising her head. “You promised, sir…”

Wilson backhanded her in the stomach without looking, and she let out a pained grunt. “I promised not to hurt her for attacking me, and I won’t. You paid for that mistake with your ass instead. But she’s still here to work, fuckmeat, and if she disobeys again, she’ll have to be punished again.”

“Please, I… I’ll…”

“You’re out of virgin holes to offer up,” he said bluntly, and met her eyes. “And about two seconds from being punished for being a mouthy bitch. You have anything to say about that?” Heather paled, opened her mouth, and then reconsidered and closed it. She shook her head. “Good. Now shut up and watch.”

Still looking furious, Grace tried to flinch away as he approached, but the leash didn't give her much allowance. Back pressed against the wall, she stared at his approaching dick. “If you try to stick that in me,” she said, voice hard. “I will bite it off, I swear to God.”

“Unfortunately for you,” he told her, smiling and putting on a pair of gloves, “I believe you.”

His gloved fist drove into her face, shattering teeth and getting blood everywhere. Grace barely had time for a shocked, pained gurgle before he struck again with the other fist. Unable to turn away, she could only shriek as he continued to pummel her face. “There’s a hierarchy here,” he told her while he performed some homemade dental work. “Your daughter is here to be fucked. You’re here to keep her fuckable. I don’t care how pretty you look or how many limbs you have, as long as you can still do your fucking job.”

When he was done, only ragged bits of white remained in her mouth, and blood poured down her chin. Both women were sobbing, one in quiet misery, the other in terror and agony. Grace stared at him in wide eyed horror as he produced the pliers from his pocket. “And that, toilet, was the easy part.”

He ripped the remaining shards of teeth out of her one at a time while she gibbered in pain, hurting too much to speak. Only a few of her teeth had been cleanly punched out, and it took a while to get them all. By the time he was done, the streaks of blood went all the way down her body, and his dick was stiff again.

“Don't get the wrong idea, toilet,” he said as his head parted her bloodstained lips. “You're just here to handle cleanup. Only cum you get is what you lick off me or her.”

He felt her wet tongue rub against his shit smeared cock, and she gagged in disgust. “You'll get used to the taste soon enough, bitch. Shit and piss for toilets, semen for fuckmeat. You'll get your dog food every week, just like she does, but those will always be your staples.”

Grace gave an unhappy moan, but she was too scared and hurting to put up a fight anymore. Her tongue slid along his shaft, reluctantly cleaning him as ordered. “Eyes on me!” he barked, and she flinched and obeyed, looking at him with her terrified, tear filled eyes. “You have thirty seconds, toilet. I find a speck of your daughter’s shit on my cock after that, and I rip out some fingernails.” He could have just left it at that, but he'd learned long ago that dumb sluts performed better after demonstrations. Grace shrieked as he tore the nail from the right thumb. “Twenty seconds, bitch.” She whimpered and began quickly slobbering all over him, desperate to lap up Heather’s filth in time.

When he pulled out thirty seconds later, he was pleasantly surprised to find that she’d actually succeeded. “You might just make a decent toilet after all,” he said approvingly. In the days to come, she’d realize what an impressive compliment that was for someone like her, but for now she just stared at him dully, a nauseated expression on her face. He untied her leash from the wall and pushed her towards Heather again. “And now we're back where we started. Clean up your slut daughter for me, toilet, starting with her asshole. I feel like fucking it some more.”

With one hand, he maneuvered her down onto her knees, and pushed her face into Heather's crack. Grace shook her head, smearing the blood on her chin across the cheeks. “This is... this is sick!” she blubbered, some of her spirit returning. “You can't make me do this! Not to my own daughter! You, you just can't!”

Instead of answering immediately, Wilson lifted one foot and stomped her left ankle with all his weight. Something crunched, and she gave a choking gasp of pain. “Toilets don't need legs,” he said calmly. “Should I do the other one too?”

The only response was the messy slurping sound of Grace doing her best to suck the sperm from her daughter's asshole. Wilson smiled and watched the girl's reaction. She was looking up at the ceiling, expression a contradictory mix of shame, pleasure, and disgust. Her legs twisted and shook as her mother lapped at her sensitive and swollen rosebud.

She was so distracted, the slut didn’t notice the flogger he’d picked up until it slapped against her bloated tits with a satisfying smack. She screamed out loud in surprise and agony, those beautiful titties dancing like mad. He struck them again, even harder this time. “Can’t forget to tenderize the fuckmeat!” he reminded her.

After a few minutes of covering her melons in fresh welts while her mother sucked his sticky load right out of her guts, he put the flogger down and pulled Grace away. “Get to work on cleaning those tits,” he ordered, then groaned with pleasure as his stiff dick easily sank back into the warm vise of Heather's asshole. He’d grown used to the wet, slimy squelch of slipping into one of his fucktoy’s cum soaked orifices, even come to enjoy the sensation a little, but this… “That's the stuff,” he murmured happily. “A fresh, tongue washed asshole to fuck. I might never get tired of using you now, fuckmeat, not as long as mommy toilet is around to clean you up.”

Heather let out a long, piteous wail as he started humping her as hard as he had before, her rectum still nice and broken in for him after its original pounding. It was just as good as the first time, maybe even better. Grace flinched at the sound, but continued licking months worth of dried urine, spunk, blood, and puke off of her daughter’s chest.

“Bite the nipples and pull,” Wilson said, and heard Heather squeal as Grace immediately complied. At the same time, Heather's body tensed, squeezing his dick in a delicious way. “Good toilet. Keep it up, and maybe I’ll change my mind about beating the shit out of you every night.” There was no chance of that; just like his fuckmeat needed a good tenderizing before every fuck no matter how obedient she became, his toilet would need regular beatings no matter what. But it was fun to give her a little false hope.

It took another hour before Wilson's dick went soft and showed no signs of recovering anytime soon. In that time, he left more sets of stripes on her tits with the flogger, and added two more loads to her bowels, both of which were dutifully sucked out of her by her mother, after his cock was cleaned of all traces of where it had been. Grace threw up only once; after learning the hard way that losing control of her stomach just meant having to lick it all back up, she did a much better job of controlling herself.

He was out of commission for the time being, but Heather’s tongue bath had barely gotten started. There was barely a square inch on her body that wasn’t crusty with one fluid or another, and Grace had to carefully lap up every little bit. He even made the two women french kiss at one point, so that she could lick any cum or urine off the inside of Heather's cheeks.

Before long, Heather looked nearly herself again. Her hair was still greasy and sweaty, and her body still wore the marks of everything done to her, but with clothes on she might have passed for an ordinary, young woman, albeit a miserable, exhausted, and unkempt one.

Wilson saved her cunt for last. “Take extra special care in there,” he mocked as Grace reluctantly began tonguing her daughter’s pussy. “You probably have a grandkid in that womb by now.” That nearly made the woman throw up again before she caught herself.

Heather, on the other hand, didn’t even seem to have noticed the verbal jab. Her face was bright red as she hung suspended in her bonds, and though she was trying to hide it, she made a soft moan every time Grace’s head moved. Wilson laughed. “You little slut!” he breathed. “No wonder I’ve never had to worry about you cumming, no matter how hard I pound your fuckhole. You’ve been a cunt muncher this whole time!”

“N-no,” she protested weakly, and then let out a choked scream as he hooked a finger into her swollen paper clipped nipples and tugged as hard as he could. The chains connecting her to the ceiling rattled as she twisted and shook, trying to stop him from stretching her nipples and only managing to hurt herself further.

“What have I said about lying?” Wilson asked flatly.

“Y-y-yes,” Heather stuttered. “Yes, I, I…”

“You love tonguing twats,” he supplied.

“Yes!” his playtoy screamed, her face more red than ever. “I love, love tonguing twats! Please sir, they’re going to rip off, please, I’m a c-cunt muncher, I’m a cunt muncher!” He let go, and she sagged down.

“Nobody told you to stop,” Wilson said without looking at Grace. He heard the slurping as she got back to work, and Heather moaned again. “Now what am I going to do with you, fuckmeat? The toilet’s supposed to be tonguewashing your cunt multiple times a day from now on, and I can’t be worrying that my lezzie fucktoy is going to get off on it.”

“I won’t, sir” she declared. “I promise I won’t. I just, I, it felt good, but, but she’s my mom, sir. It will never happen, I swear.”

Wilson considered his options. The simplest would be to just slit the mother’s throat and dump her body. Turning her into Heather’s toilet had been a fun idea, but he couldn’t take the risk that she’d look for ways to make life easier for her daughter, incest or not. Still, it was a shame to give up on all the fun mother/daughter potential he’d been looking forward to. It would be much simpler if he could tell whether or not his toy had cum, but… he snapped his fingers. “Hold still,” he told them.

He returned a couple minutes later, ecstatic. A few years back he’d started feeling antsy about being cooped up in his vehicle all day, and worried about the lack of physical exercise. So he’d bought himself one of those special watches that measure heart rate and steps taken and all that exercise crap. He’d only used it for a few weeks before losing interest, but he’d known it was still floating around somewhere. Heather looked fearfully at the watch as he put it on her wrist. “This is going to track your heart rate from now on,” he explained. “Every day I’m going to check it, and if I see a spike where there shouldn’t be, I’m going to know that you were a bad lezzie slut.”

“I won’t ever, I promise, sir,” she said, actually looking a little relieved.

“Never more than once, anyway,” he agreed. “Because the next time you cum, for any reason, your mother dies.” Heather’s face paled, and she gave the watch a second, horrified look. “Toilet! Give your fuckmeat daughter’s cunt a deep clean. I want you frenching her fucking cervix.” When Grace didn’t respond immediately, he gave her a kick in the face snapped her head to the side and left her with what was going to be a nasty looking black eye. “Now!”

Heather mewled as her mother started enthusiastically eating her out. Wilson watched with satisfaction as her legs trembled and sweat ran down her brow. Yes, this would be perfect. “From now on,” he announced, “you both have bedtime chores. Toilet, you’re doing yours right now. I’ll be checking fuckmeat’s cunt regularly, and if it’s not wet and spitshined…” He casually reached down to grab Grace’s left index finger, then pulled back until it snapped and she howled in pain. “We’ll do that. And as for you, fuckmeat, your job will be to feed the toilet by relieving yourself into her mouth. If anything should spill out, you will make her lick it up.”

“S-sir, um,” Heather stammered, still trembling from the cunt scrubbing she was getting. “Wh-what if I, if I have to…?”

“Have to shit? Then your toilet mother will be going to bed with a full stomach,” he said flatly. “Nothing spilled. Is that too difficult to follow?”

“N-no, sir.”

“Good. Then we can get back to our usual business: turning your holes into gaping wrecks one fuck at a time.” He was already getting into position as he spoke, and Heather barely had time for a quick terrified squeak before Wilson was shoving himself back into her tongue scrubbed guts. If not for how easy it was to hilt his entire cock into the screaming blonde with a single thrust, he never would’ve guessed her asshole had already swallowed three loads that evening. Yes, he had a good feeling about this new arrangement.

Heather’s mother gobbled up her daughter’s wet cunt while Wilson did his best to hollow out the girl’s asshole, then it was time for her to lick ass flavored cock and cum flavored ass while he flogged those zip tied titties some more, and then it was back to Heather’s cunt while Wilson enjoyed a round five. Then more cock cleaning. Then more ass slurping. Heather shrieking as the flogger struck her again and again. Then round six and more cunt munching. More fresh asshole to lick off her owner’s cock. More fresh spunk to tongue out of her daughter’s guts.

He honestly could’ve happily done that over and over all night if he’d had the stamina, but it was late and he dearly needed some sleep. So after Heather had crouched over her mother’s face and emptied her bladder right down her throat while the woman gave her some goodnight cunt kisses, it was time to put his toys away for the night. After dinner, that is.

Grace whimpered softly as he packed ten cans worth of cold spoiled dog food into her twat. “Your cunts are now each other’s food bowls. I find the smallest trace of dog food or puke outside your stomachs in the morning, you’ll both fucking pay for it, understand?”

“Yes sir!” chorused his two slaves.

After stuffing Heather’s cunt with her mother’s dinner, the girl went in the cooler just like usual, doubled over and tied down. She was so worn down that she very nearly passed out while he was securing her, but she woke up while he was getting Grace in position on top of her, jacknifed and bound the same way she was but turned the opposite way around. “Um, sir?” she said hesitantly as her mother’s sludge filled twat came down right on her face. “I, um, I don’t think there’s enough room for both of us in here?”

Wilson yawned. “I don’t give a fuck,” he said. “Shut up and make it work. And you, toilet.”

“Yes sir!” Grace squawked immediately.

“Don’t think your tongue gets a break after you’ve slurped your dinner out of your daughter’s twat. Same goes for you, fuckmeat. When you’re in bed together, I expect you to be tongue fucking each other like the horny incest sluts you are until you fall asleep.” He tapped Heather’s watch. “I see her heart rate drop too low while she’s still awake, I’m going to assume you were slacking off, toilet.”

“I won’t, sir! I’ll lick the fuckmeat’s cunt all night, sir!” Grace cried out, desperate to show how obedient she was so that he wouldn’t demonstrate the price of failure again.

Wilson leaned down and bent her left middle finger back until it snapped anyway. “Good. Lazy toilets don’t deserve fingers,” he said. The woman sobbed, and he couldn’t really blame her. She was down all her teeth, an ankle, and two fingers, and she’d barely gotten started. Whatever. No one expected a toilet to last forever.

“Sir? Wh-what about, if I cum…?” Heather asked. He could tell she already knew the answer, but was praying that he’d surprise her.

“Then mommy dies,” he confirmed. “But that shouldn’t be a problem. You promised that you could never cum from your own mother’s tongue, right?”

“N-no, sir…” she whispered sadly, her breath already coming out in little pants as Grace slobbered all over her pussy.

“Good. Now get that tongue to work. Make your mother cum, even. I couldn’t care less.” Wilson lowered the lid of the cooler down upon the two bound cunt lickers. Heather had been right about there not being enough room; the lid hit resistance while there was still several inches in the air. But when he stomped down hard on it, something inside the cooler made a cracking noise, both sluts cried out in pain, and the lid slammed shut. Perfect.

Wilson lingered a minute longer, enjoying the muffled sounds of his two toys sobbing and slurping, and then left to have another good night’s sleep.