Spilled Milk

Lilah lay on her bed sobbing, at the tail end of what had to be the worst weekend of her life. Her arms were above her head, handcuffed to the headboard. Her legs were spread humiliatingly wide, held there by a rope around her ankles that went under the bed. Semen trickled from her pussy and ass onto the stained bedsheets, and more of it was drying on her chin and tits. Her strawberry blonde hair was matted with sweat, and there were multiple smears of blood on her naked body that did little to hide the assortment of bruises and burns she’d gained over the last couple days.

I don’t think she’d ever looked more beautiful.

I was sitting on the edge of the bed with her, using her laptop and phone to do a bit of bookkeeping. It had been no trouble at all getting Lilah to share all of her passwords with me, not after she’d realized the difference between being a good girl and a bad one. Her savings account had about twenty grand in it, which was perfect; I’d been thinking I deserved a new car.

“That should just about do it,” I said eventually. “I was thinking I’d go one more round with you once I was done-“ Lilah whimpered “-but you were an even better fucktoy than I thought.” I looked down at my limp and pleasantly sore cock. “You drained my balls good, Lilah.”

“…th- thank you, sir…” she murmured. My playmate had learned very quickly that it was important to be respectful and grateful around me.

“Just a few things to take care of and then I can get out of your hair,” I told her cheerfully, and fished in the satchel I’d brought. “Hold still for this bit, please.”

Lilah’s eyes widened at the sight of the ear tagger, which looks kinda like a particularly nasty hole punch, but she knew better than to give me grief, and laid there meekly while I lined it up with her left earlobe. She flinched in pain when I squeezed the grips and gave her a new earring.

I use standard cattle tags with the brand names filed off, so my strawberry blonde friend now had a bright orange, squarish tag dangling from her ear. “You’ll get a lot of jokes about it,” I said, “but just tell people it’s a fashion statement. The GPS in there will let me keep track of you, so be a good girl and keep it on, okay? If you go losing it, I’ll take that as a request to come find you again and teach you better. Do you understand?” She nodded fearfully.

“Tomorrow morning, you’re going to call up wherever you work, and tell them that you quit, effective immediately. You’ve got a new career now, Lilah: you’re a whore.”

“Please,” she began and I shushed her with a finger to her lips.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything. Every morning I’m going to send you the address of a street corner to stand on. All you need to do is dress slutty, accept every offer, and have no limits. I’ll let you decide how much you want to charge for each of the many things you’ll be doing from now on, but at the end of of every week you’ll send me five hundred dollars. That’s my cut as your pimp. Do you understand?”

Lilah nodded weakly. I doubt she really had a handle on things yet, but she would learn. “Now, there’s something I want to show you,” I continued, and took out my phone. “Remember when I gave you a little break this morning? Let you relax by yourself and nap for a few hours? That was so I could get everything ready for you.” Her eyes widened as I showed her a stream of her own kitchen, which cycled to her bathroom at a touch of a button, her living room, and so on. “I’ve installed cameras in every room. I put some in here as well while you slept. I expect you could find them all pretty easily if you went looking, but they’re not for you to touch. If you turn off or adjust any of them…” I flicked one of her sore nipples with my fingers and she shuddered.

I switched to the feed of her refrigerator, and pointed out the prominent electronic lock that was now on it. “This is a timed lock: it unlocks for one minute at 6AM and again at 10PM. When that happens, you’ll retrieve one can of dog food. Then you will look at the camera, you will thank me, and you will eat your meal. I’ve already put about two months worth in there and thrown out all your old food, but in the future it will be your responsibility to keep it stocked. I’d recommend the quality human grade brands for taste, but I think you’ll have some trouble affording anything but the cheapest slop before you get some more experience with your new career.” I could have added that all that remained in her kitchen cupboards and drawers was a can opener and a couple food bowls, but she’d discover all that for herself soon enough.

By now, it was really starting to sink in for Lilah that her life after meeting me was going to be very different from what came before. She wore a hollow expression as she stared at her fridge and its unseen contents. A drop of blood from her cattle tag trickled down her neck.

“I was too busy enjoying our time together to do any full renovations, so I’ll leave the rest to you. By the end of the month, I want all other furniture removed, including this nice bed here, and all personal effects trashed. Not given away, not sold, not put in a storage unit. Trashed. I want this house completely bare except for your food and your whore outfits. Speaking of which, no wearing clothes while you’re at home anymore. Oh, and I should show you your new sleeping arrangements.”

I’d already removed everything from her bedroom closet, so all that hung in there now was the manacles I’d installed. “These also operate on a timer. They close shut at 10:30PM, and reopen at 5:30AM. All of my whores have some initial trouble learning how to sleep standing up, but everyone manages eventually, don’t worry.”

“I… I can’t…” she whined miserably. “Please sir, I can’t do all this…”

“Everyone says that at first,” I said amiably. “And almost all of you try to run away in the first couple weeks.” I grinned at her. “To tell you the truth, I actually enjoy hunting down my little lost sheep whenever one of you bolts. I’d tell you all about what I do to runaways, but why spoil the surprise? I will say that I must be very persuasive, because very few have ever dared to attempt it a second time, and no one has ever tried for a third.” I stroked her head, enjoying the way she flinched at the gentle touch. “So don’t worry, Lilah: if you’re certain you can’t do this, you know where the front door is. Just know that you’ll only have yourself to blame after, and that things can always get worse.”

She’d cried plenty of times over the weekend, but I think the quiet, miserable tears rolling down her cheeks now were my favorite. I took a moment to appreciate them before continuing. “You’ll notice that there are two sets of manacles. One for you, and one for your new roommate: your sister.”

Lilah produced a sound that was right in that sweet spot of horror, disbelief, and despair. “I know, I know,” I told her. “Right now your head is all aflutter thinking of if and how you could save her from me, but you don’t need to worry about any of that. Little Ariana has been relaxing warm and snug in the trunk of my car this whole weekend. We spent last week getting to know each other, you see, but her apartment was a lousy place to set up a whore kennel. Yours is going to work much better.”

I switched the camera over to her living room and pointed out the crude circle on the floor. “See that there? That is your new playspace. When you and Ariana aren’t busy with eating, sleeping, or whoring, you’ll be right there, eating each other out. I like my incest sloppy and enthusiastic: lots of tongue and slobber. I want your audience - I’ll be posting my favorite clips on-line - to really believe that you’re a pair of slutty sisters who just cannot get enough of each other’s twats.”

“But I’m, I’m not even gay…” she protested. “I can’t…”

I grinned at her. “It’s called acting, silly! Just keep up the moaning and drooling and slit slurping, and it’ll all work out fine. When in doubt, give the camera a big smile and shake that sexy ass of yours. And if you’re really worried that it’s not believable, just make one of your first tattoos something like CUNT MUNCHER and make sure it’s nice and visible.”

I saw the confused expression on her face and chuckled. “Even whores gets days off, right? Every Saturday, instead of your street corners, you and Ariana are going to visit a tattoo parlor and get matching tattoos. The design and location is entirely up to you, as long as it’s obscene. No going to the same parlor twice in three months, and no paying them with money. You’ll have it easy there: you’re not my first whores in the area, so most places around here won’t be surprised by a pair of tattoo sluts offering their bodies in exchange for ink.” I winked. “Play your cards right, and you might even end up with new regulars.”

“Wh-what if…” Lilah’s voice trembled. “What if I f-fucked you instead? You could come back any time, sir, any time at all I promise, and I’d drop everything and give you the, the best fuck of your life. Just let me, please allow me to keep my life, sir, and I’ll be y-your fucktoy forever.”

“Oh, Lilah,” I told her. “Silly silly Lilah. I’ve already had my fun with your body, sweetie. Fucktoys are like condoms as far as I’m concerned: there are all sorts of fun things you can get up to with your dick in them, but once you’re finished with one, you toss it away and move onto the next. Nobody wants to stick their cock in a used condom, Lilah, do you understand?” When she didn’t respond, I repeated the question with just a hint of frost. “Do you understand that you’re nothing but a fucked out, spunk plastered, used condom of a fucktoy now, Lilah?”

She jumped. “Y-yes, sir! Yes, I, I do…”

“Good girl.”

I took my leave not long after that. Lilah and Ariana were already tangled up together on the floor, getting to know each other’s cunts. Both women were sobbing, their orange ear tags jiggling as their fat tits heaved, but that didn’t stop their tongues from exploring eagerly and deeply. I took a few candid pictures of them to use for their website, and left their apartment whistling.