As the end of the day came, Abby found herself looking at Richard with a mix of hope and worry.
“Is something the matter, Rape-Udders?” he asked her.
She paused. Asking to have her needs met might make Richard angry. But they were *pressing needs*.
“I’m thirsty, sir,” she said. “And hungry.” She paused. “And I need to cum.” She felt humiliated saying it, but she had been aroused constantly now for nearly 24 hours. It was hard not to think about her pussy. It was hard to think of anything else.
Richard said, “Oh, Rape-Udders. You’re really very stupid. You don’t *need* to cum. You just *want* to cum. You lied just now, didn’t you?”
Abby squirmed, but she knew there was only one answer he was accepting. “Yes, sir,” she said.
“And whose fault is it that you lied?” he asked.
She knew the answer to this, too. “Mine,” she said, “but also that bitch Abby for making me think I have needs.” As she said this, she felt a disturbing genuine surge of hatred towards Abby, who had gotten her into this position.
“Because you lied, you won’t get to cum, Rape-Udders,” said Richard, and Abby couldn’t help moaning with distress and frustration. Richard ignored her. “But we will see about the other problems you have.”
He brought out the dog bowl she’d eaten breakfast from. He placed it out of her reach, and filled it with milk from a bottle. Then he got out his cock, aimed it at the bowl, and masturbated until he reached orgasm, ejaculating his sperm into the milk.
This done, he walked over to Abby, and like a good little slut she licked his still-exposed cock clean. Then he cuffed her hands behind her back, and pulled her over to the bowl, so that she could messily lick at the sperm-and-milk mixture.
Abby was far too thirsty at this point to balk at the tainted drink, and eagerly lapped at the liquid with her tongue. When it was all gone, she licked the bowl clean, and looked up at Richard for approval.
“Good slut,” he said. “Now, you’ve already eaten today, so you don’t need more. You could stand to lose weight anyway, to be honest. But tomorrow morning, if you’ve been a good girl, you will have a chance to eat whatever comes out of your pussy and ass.”
She looked up at him in disgust. Did he mean he would make her eat her own shit?
But coprophagia wasn’t on his agenda, or among his kinks. He undid her cuffs, and then produced several large, thick salamis from the next room. “Squirrels store nuts in their cheeks,” he said. “Sluts store their food in other places. If you want to eat tomorrow morning, I’d suggest you stock your larder.” He passed them to her.
Abby pouted. It wasn’t fair. She was hungry *now*. She looked up at Richard – but all she saw was the certain knowledge that any salami she didn’t push up her holes would be taken away from her and not given back.
Blushing, Abby spread her legs and began working the first salami into her fuckhole. It was thick, and pushing it in was a bit uncomfortable, but it also felt really good, and she surreptitiously took the opportunity to work it in and out a little more than she needed to. But she knew if she actually orgasmed, Richard would see, and punish her. She shouldn’t have lied, if she wanted to cum. She never *needed* to cum – just wanted it. She would remember that.
She got the whole salami stuffed up her pussy, and sighed with satisfaction. Then she turned around, ass pointing upwards, and tried to work a second salami into her anus.
This one hurt lots more. She thought about spitting on her hands for lubrication, but was reluctant to waste the precious fluid she had just drunk. Then she remembered she still had wet sperm on her face and tits from where Richard had cum on her. She wiped some onto her fingers and used it to lubricate the salami. It now went up her ass much more easily. She got the whole thing inside her. She felt so full, it was embarrassing – but she was proud she had managed to fit the salami into her, and excited that she would have so much to eat tomorrow morning.
Once she was done, Richard fit her with the evil chastity belt she had worn last night. The pussy and anus probes pushed the salami a little further inside her, and she gasped. But then, as she realised it was her bedtime, she became scared and started to whimper.
“Please, no,” she begged. “Not the TV. Please don’t put the bitch on the TV. I need to sleep.”
“Same rules as last night, Rape-Udders,” Richard said. He turned on the TV, turned off the lights, and left the room, leaving her alone.
She started weeping uncontrollably almost immediately. She couldn’t stand another night of that evil bitch Abby screaming at her. She couldn’t bear it. Why did Abby have to do this to her? Why couldn’t Abby just be a good slut? She hated Abby so much.
The chastity belt gave her salami-filled cunt a little shock. She was losing her arousal. Desperately, she returned to the solution that had helped her last night – she pictured Abby being raped. Abby deserved to be raped, after all. “Stupid slut Abby,” she muttered to herself. “Dumb bitchy cunt. You need all the men to rape you. I want to see you raped. Dumb little rape-bitch.”
“EVERY WOMAN WITH FAKE TITS IS A PROSTITUTE,” screamed the feminist bitch Abby suddenly on the TV screen. Rape-Udders howled with misery, and tried to cover her ears. “THEY DO NOTHING BUT THINK WITH THEIR CUNTS. THEY ARE NO LONGER WOMEN, BUT ANIMALS, AND REAL WOMEN NEED TO LET THEM KNOW THEIR DISAPPROVAL.”
“Go away you dumb man-hating bitch!” Rape-Udders screamed at the TV. “Go away! I hate you! This is all your fault! I wish some man would slap you and rape you!”
On the scream, Abby screamed on, at deafening volume. Rape-Udders lost her arousal, and got a shock to her cunt. She squealed, and tried to think of even more degrading acts to perform on Abby, to get her wetness back.
And then Abby was blessedly gone, and the screen showed pornographic pictures of good girl Rape-Udders again, with nice text superimposed like “DUMB LITTLE FUCKTOY” and “GOOD LITTLE TIT-KITTEN”. Rape-Udders almost purred with relief that these nice images were back. And with them there was a voice – but a quiet, friendly voice. It said, “I only think with my cunt. I need men to tell me what to do.”
It took Rape-Udders a moment to realise it was *her* voice, from when she had done the sorting task earlier in the day. The words she had recorded were playing back to her.
It was okay. They were quiet, and so much nicer than the things the hated Abby shouted. She listened, and thought slutty thoughts.
“I’m just a brainless pair of tits. I deserve to be repeatedly raped.”
Rape-Udders listened carefully to the voice. She wanted the voice to keep talking forever, because she knew that when it stopped, Abby would come back. She felt her cunt wettening as she thought about Abby being raped, and she began to find her happy place.
She lost it when Abby returned. “WOMEN NEED TO SAY NO TO MEN WHO DEMAND OUR OBJECTIFICATION,” she was screaming, and Rape-Udders screamed too, as the belt shocked her pussy. She screamed her hate and anger at Abby, telling her to shut up, to go away, to just close her mouth and spread her legs and be raped like a good girl. She sobbed, and tried to think about Abby being raped again.
When Abby vanished, and her own voice came back, she babbled with relief. “Thank you, sir,” she heard herself saying, even though Richard wasn’t there and couldn’t hear her. “Thank you, sir.”
“Good girls should have cocks in their mouths,” said her own voice, quietly, from the screen.
“Yes,” she said. “Yes, I’m a good girl.”
“Good girls lez off with other bimbos,” said her own voice.
She looked at the screen. It was showing an image of a ridiculous porn doll. At some level, she knew it was a picture of her, but it was so difficult to think. She pictured being a lesbian with the woman on the screen – sucking on her breasts – pushing her tongue into the woman’s mouth – licking her pussy.
She moaned softly. She wasn’t a lesbian. She had never done those things. They were wrong. But the girl on the screen was a *good* girl. The girl on the screen had saved her from the hateful bitch Abby. She should be nice to that girl. Good girls lez off with other bimbos.
She felt her pussy grow wet again as she thought about kissing the girl, about playing with her big fake tits.
“I deserve to have to piss in the woods like an animal,” said her own voice.
“Yes,” agreed Abby. Her pussy was getting so wet and happy again. She wished she could touch it. She wished she could masturbate. She wondered what it would feel like to have the big-titted slut on the screen put her tongue into her pussy. She thought it would feel nice.
She focused down on the thoughts, and the next time when Abby came back, she was able to tune the bitch out, and stay floating in the nice wet fantasy of having a big-titted slut licking at her snatch. And once Abby was gone again, she finally was able to drift off to sleep, with the nice voice speaking in her ears, and her pussy dripping wet with lust.
“I’m too dumb to understand boy things. I deserve to have my cunt whipped with a belt.”
She dreamed of writhing sluttily against a big-titted sex doll that looked exactly like she did, while staring happily at a commanding man violently raping the hated bitch Abby, and somewhere in the night she orgasmed, bucking hard and moaning loudly in her sleep, her hand squeezing her own breast painfully, her cunt spasming against the thick sausage stuffed into it, her mouth pantomiming the act of pushing her tongue deep down the slut’s throat – or possibly deep into her pussy.
And the cameras mounted in the corners of the room watched silently, and recorded it all.