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She woke up to the feeling of Richard’s cum splattering on her face. She opened her eyes blearily. Some of his sperm was obscuring her left eye, but she knew better than to wipe it away without permission. Instead she said, slurring a little with tiredness, “Thank you, sir,” and struggled to her knees to clean his cock with her mouth.
When she was done, Richard moved to take the chastity belt off her, and she reflected on the surprising fact that she had stayed horny and aroused all night long, throughout her sleep. In fact, she was so wet right now that she gasped as the little probes came out of her pussy and anus, and completely without intending to, she tried to follow them with her hips as they came out of her, wanting to hump against them and find another orgasm.
“Breakfast time,” said Richard, placing a dogbowl in front of her. She blinked, not understanding at first. The bowl was empty.
Then she remembered. Blushing, she squatted over the bowl, and used her cunt muscles to push the sausage out of her pussy. It was thoroughly soaked through with a night’s worth of fuckhoney, and looked more jelly than sausage. Then she adjust her position, and squeezed the second sausage out of her anus. This one had more structural integrity, but didn’t smell very appetising.
Richard helped her by cutting the sausage into small chunks for her. Then he motioned to the cum on her face. “Add the sauce now,” he said.
Obediently, Rape-Udders wiped the sperm off her face and into the bowl. She looked up at Richard for approval, and when he gave it, she got down on her knees, put her hands behind her back, leaned forward, pressed her face into the bowl, and began to eat.
It was disgusting. It tasted of her cunt, and of her ass. It felt like eating dog food out of a toilet. But she was *hungry*, and she needed to eat, so she gobbled up each slimy, spermy chunk and swallowed it obediently. When the bowl was empty, she licked it clean, and then looked up at Richard again.
“Good cunt,” he said, and Rape-Udders smiled with delight at the praise.
“Now, go toilet in the woods like an animal,” he told her.
Rape-Udders *did* need to piss, so she crawled outside, and repeated yesterday morning’s procedure. She voided her bladder and bowels, then crawled back to the house, where Richard turned a high pressure hose on her to wash her clean. This time she tried her best not to cum without permission when he turned it on her pussy. She thought of disgusting Abby and how much she hated her, and managed to avoid an orgasm – but then when Richard kicked her in the cunt afterwards, it was too much, and she felt herself shaking as she came – which provoked another kick to the cunt.
“This is your lunch,” said Richard afterwards, passing her a cucumber and a banana. “Store it appropriately. You’ll need to peel the banana.”
Obediently, Abby tried to stuff the cucumber up her anus, and the soft mushy banana into her pussy, but they kept falling out. She looked up at Richard in despair.
“Would you like some help keeping your whorish holes shut to keep your food inside?” asked Richard.
“Yes, please, sir!” asked Abby. She wished she could eat the food *now*. She certainly didn’t want to miss out on lunch.
Richard passed her three items. The first was a butt plug. Rape-Udders had never used one before, but she knew how they worked. She wiggled the cucumber all the way up her anus – it was so uncomfortable! – and then pushed the butt plug in to keep it in place. She felt lewdly full, like she needed to shit, even though she just had. It made her blush just feeling it.
The other two items were bulldog clips, and Rape-Udders learned to hate these very quickly. She pushed the banana up her pussy, then pulled her upper labia together and used the bulldog clip to clip them together – but it hurt so much! She whimpered and moaned.
The banana was trying to squeeze out of her around the clip, so she pulled the lower part of her labia together and clipped that too. Now the banana was trapped inside her.
Richard laughed and said, “You deserve that, don’t you, Rape-Udders?”
She heard her own voice in her mind – “Good girls need to be disciplined” – and she said, “Yes, sir.” It had already been hard to think, and now her anus was so full and her cunt was in so much pain…
“Good slut,” said Richard. “And because you’ve been such a good slut, you get to be Abby again, until lunch-time.”
Rape-Udders blinked. What had Richard said? It didn’t make sense.
He brought a portable desk in from the next room, and set it up, with a normal chair in front of it. He put a sheaf of lined notepad paper on the table and placed the crayons next to it. “It’s a little holiday,” he said. “You can spend the morning working on your next book.”
Slowly, realisation dawned in her. *She* was Abby. She had always been Abby.
Oh God – had she *forgotten* that she was Abby?
She felt suddenly nauseous. Her gorge rose – her breakfast of cunty, spermy sausage rebelled – and she had to stop and tune out the world a moment to get herself under control and her stomach settled.
Richard waited for her.
“I’m Abby,” she said finally – half a question, half a defiant statement.
“Are you?” asked Richard. “Abby needs to write her book today.”
Abby looked up at the table. She didn’t want to get into the chair, but she didn’t immediately know why.
“Is Abby going to write her book?” asked Richard.
Abby was filled with anxiety. This was a trap of some sort. She wasn’t allowed to be Abby. Richard wanted her to be Rape-Udders.
Tentatively, she started to stand up – and then shrieked, as her collar shocked her. She had forgotten she wasn’t allowed to do that. That is, she hadn’t forgotten she had to crawl, she had just forgotten why.
“Are you having difficulty, slut?” asked Richard.
Abby motioned to her collar. “It shocks me…” he said.
“Did that bitch Abby agree that you had to wear a shock collar?” asked Richard. “What kind of evil hag would do that?”
“Do you want me to punish Abby, and make it so you can write your book?” asked Richard. “Or do you think you can sit in the chair?”
Abby tried to stand up again, and got another shock. She whimpered again.
“Use your words, Rape-Udders,” said Richard.
“Please let me write the book, sir,” said Abby.
“You can only write the book after I punish Abby for putting you in the collar,” said Richard. “Is that what you’re asking for?”
Abby whimpered again. And then she said, “Yes, sir, please punish Abby – I mean, punish me – I mean, punish Abby for putting the shock collar on me.”
“I promised that bitch Abby I wouldn’t lay my hands on her,” said Richard. “So how can I punish her?”
This was all too hard for Abby. She didn’t know what to say. She whined pathetically. Richard offered no response, so she tried to think.
Finally, she said, “I’m not Abby. I’m Rape-Udders, so you can punish me.”
Richard said, “Are you sure, Rape-Udders? Are you saying that any promises I made to Abby don’t apply to you?”
“Yes,” said Abby. She didn’t really understand what she was agreeing to. She was tired and horny and her cunt hurt and she just wanted to please Richard so he would be nice to her.
“I promised Abby I wouldn’t rape her,” said Richard, “but you’re saying that doesn’t apply to you?”
Abby moaned. She wished Richard *would* rape her. He’d have to take the painful clips off her cunt, and then pull the banana out of her pussy, and then she could *cum*. “Yes,” she whimpered. “I’m not Abby. The promises don’t count.”
“Abby deserves to have her tits beaten, doesn’t she?” asked Richard.
“Yes!” Abby agreed eagerly. After all, Abby had been the stupid bitch that got her into this situation.
“But you’re going to receive that punishment instead, aren’t you, Rape-Udders?” asked Richard.
Abby was more hesitant now. She was beginning to realise what had just happened. “Yes?” she said, unsure.
“Abby’s a terrible, worthless person, isn’t she?” asked Richard. “To deserve such a punishment, but then make me do it to you instead?”
“Yes,” whimpered Abby. “I hate her. She deserves to be raped.”
“Kneel,” said Richard. “Cup your hands under your tits. Offer them up to me. Make sure you tuck your thumbs out of the way.” He began to take off his leather belt.
Abby did as she was told. She looked at his belt with fear. What had she agreed to? What had Abby gotten her into? Why was Abby such a cruel cunt?
“Good girls need to be disciplined,” said Richard, raising the belt.
“Yes, sir,” said Abby – and then she screamed, as the belt cracked down across her tits.
“One,” said Richard, calmly. Then he raised it again. “Two.” CRACK!
Abby whimpered as the belt struck her tits again and again, each time bringing agony. Her pussy was throbbing with pain and need. She wanted to masturbate, but she needed her hands to hold her tits, and anyway her pussy was clamped shut.
“Nine,” said Richard. CRACK!
Abby was babbling incoherently. “Sorry sir sorry I’m a good girl good Rape-Udders dumb Abby bad slut bad Abby…”
Richard raised the belt extra high, and it took everything Abby had not to flinch away.
It was harder than the rest, and Abby could think of nothing but the agony in her plastic tits. She started to slump, grateful it was at least finally over…
Her eyes went wide. It wasn’t over! Was he going to twenty? Thirty?
“Please sir stop stop please I’ll suck your cock you can rape me I’m a good slut please kick me in the cunt please stop my tits hurt I have such stupid udders I’m a bad slut….”
And then – “and I’m done. You may let go of your fuckbags.”
Abby moaned with gratitude and relief. She felt herself leaning forward and kissing desperately at Richard’s crotch, trying to show her gratitude, trying to make him like her so he wouldn’t do that to her again. If she swallowed his cum like a good girl maybe he wouldn’t whip her breasts again.
But he pushed her face away with the flat of one hand, sending her sprawling backwards. “You don’t deserve my cock,” he told her. Then he picked up the paper and the crayons, and put them down at the child’s table.
“There you go,” he said. “Now Abby can write her book until lunch. I expect to see significant progress on your book, or else I’ll have to whip Rape-Udders’ tits again.”
Abby widened her eyes and crawled immediately over to the table.
She had to write her books. So that Rape-Udders’ tits wouldn’t have to be hurt anymore. Her tits.
Or were they? Because she was Abby, wasn’t she? That was why she was writing a book.
But it was Rape-Udders who had had her tits whipped. So if she was Abby, why did her tits hurt? Abby had chosen to not be punished. She had made Rape-Udders be punished instead, because Abby was a selfish cunt.
Abby was so confused. She wanted to masturbate.
But either way, someone’s tits were getting whipped if she didn’t do a good job of starting to write a book, like that bitch Abby was always doing.
She picked up a crayon, and began to write.
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