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Previous chapters:


The presence of the Etreborian exchange students had a profound effect on the Watson  household, and though Dave couldn’t fully admit it even to himself, he liked the changes.

The most dramatic change was the presence of Slutglobes.  The beautiful Etreborian teenager insisted on going naked around the house, and not only didn’t mind the men staring at her, but actively encouraged it. 

“If you are avoiding looking at my fuckmelons and rapehole, it must be because I have failed to entice you as a woman,” she said, “and I must deserve punishment.  Have I been a bad slut, Mr Watson?”

Dave hurriedly assured her that no, she was a very good slut indeed, and was careful to stare pointedly at her pussy and breasts in future – which he enjoyed doing, so it was hardly a chore.

His wife Brooke had initially tried to get Slutglobes to wear clothes, but Slutglobes had put up such a fight, wailing and screaming, that Brooke had had to desist.  It had ended with Slutglobes opening the cutlery drawer in the kitchen, lowering her tits into it, and beginning to repeatedly slam it shut on her boobs, in an attempt to give herself the punishment she felt she deserved, and Mrs Watson had been so alarmed that she had promised Slutglobes she could bare her body whenever she wanted to.

Slutglobes was having an effect on Dave’s son Trent, too.  She was sleeping in Trent’s bed, and fucking him each night and morning.  But beyond that, she was encouraging him to treat her without respect, suggesting that he call her “bitch” and “whore” and slap her across the face whenever the mood struck him.  At night, Dave had heard Slutglobes teaching Trent to use her without consent, to violate and enjoy her even if she wasn’t aroused, if she was crying, or if she was struggling, and Trent appeared to be learning those lessons enthusiastically.

Mr Watson was pretty sure this did not constitute good parenting – but on the other hand, Trent was happier and more confident than Dave had ever seen him, which filled Dave’s heart with joy and pride.

Slutglobes didn’t confine herself to Trent, either.  She had begun seducing Mr Watson from the moment she arrived in the house, and Dave finally gave in and raped her in the bathroom on the third day after her arrival.  He was clear to her afterwards that any sex between them should be a secret from his wife, to which Slutglobes eagerly agreed, while cleaning off his cock with her mouth.

The male exchange student, Milo, was also having a positive effect.  Dave knew that Milo had raped Dave’s daughter Rachel on his first night in the house – not just because he had overheard his daughter’s squeals as he stood outside her bedroom, but because Milo had come to him the next day and shown him a collection of explicit photos he had taken on his phone of Rachel being raped.

“Your daughter has very nice udders, Mr Watson,” Milo had said, “and a tight rapehole.  You should be very proud.  But she has something of an attitude problem, yes?”

Dave was aware his face was flushed and hot as he stared at the photos of his daughter nude, crying, with Milo’s cock buried balls-deep in her cunt.  For all her tears, it was obvious from the photos that she was very aroused – her nipples were hard and her pussy lips were puffy and wet.  Dave hadn’t seen his daughter naked since before she underwent puberty, and he was suddenly aware that she was very attractive indeed.

He coughed.  “Yes,” he said.  “She could definitely behave better.”

“The women in this country are strangely prudish about people seeing the only parts of them that have value,” said Milo thoughtfully.  “Do you think your daughter would behave better if I threatened to show these photos to her friends?”

Dave said, cautiously, “I think she might.”

Milo nodded, and said, “That was my thought.  Thank you, Mr Watson.  I will, of course, send you a copy of these photos for your own enjoyment.”

Milo must have been correct about the leverage from the photos, because the change in Rachel was shocking.  She clearly hated Milo with a passion, but she didn’t say a disrespectful word to him after that point – despite the fact that he began to refer to her as “Anus” (Rachel being the third-ranking woman in the household, and the anus being the third-most-important part of a woman).  She began dressing in slightly more attractive clothes – shorter shirts and tighter tops – and she even held still, blushing furiously, when Milo chose to casually “inspect her cunt” by reaching under her skirt, sliding a finger into her fuckhole, and then wiping it clean on her face.

Starting on the fourth night after Milo’s arrival, Rachel even began waiting for Milo’s permission to eat dinner, sitting with her hands in her lap and staring at her food until Milo finally said, “You may eat, bitch,” after the rest of the family had already been eating for nearly ten minutes.

A little later, Milo looked at Dave’s wife, Brooke, and said, “Pass me the sugar, Cunt.”

Brooke gasped, and Milo immediately looked apologetic.  “I am sorry,” he said.  “This is how we would address you in my country.  Sometimes I forget.  Mr Watson, will you accept my apologies for addressing your wife this way without your permission?”

“Apology accepted,” said Dave.  “Is that really what you’d call her, though?”

“We use Cunt for the primary woman of a household if we don’t know another name,” said Milo.  “But usually a woman will have something more individual that refers to that part of her.  My mother is Cocksleeve, and her sister, who is mother to her own family, is called Babytunnel.”

Dave laughed nervously, and looked at his wife.  “That’s so strange.  What do you think you’d be called if you were in Etrebor, honey?”

Brooke pursed her lips and looked at him furiously.  “I don’t think we should speculate, Dave,” she said, in a thin, tight voice.

“I think she looks very much like a Dickholster,” said Milo, speculatively.

“More like a Pleasure-sheath,” said Dave, trying to be complimentary to Brooke.

Slutglobes leaned over and whispered something in Trent’s ear, and Trent laughed.  “Cumhole,” he said.

Milo clapped his hands in delight.  “Yes!  That’s exactly what she is!  A Cumhole!”  Slutglobes laughed, and so did Trent.  Milo looked at Rachel, and Rachel began to laugh as well, an unconvincing fake sound.  Dave allowed himself a little chuckle.

Brooke drew in her breath sharply in anger, which had the unfortunate effect of pushing out her large tits and making her look a little like a sex-doll.

“Oh, come on, honey,” said Dave, attempting to calm her.  “It’s just a joke – and a chance to learn a little about Etreborian culture.”

“You might even like it,” said Milo.  “It is a more pleasant life for a woman when she embraces what she truly is.  After all, your daughter enjoys being called Anus – don’t you, Anus?”

Rachel looked like she wanted to kill Milo – but instead she just said, “Yes, sir, I do.”

“Would you like your father and his wife to call you Anus from now on?” asked Milo.

Rachel obviously wanted to cry, but she said, “Yes, daddy, can you please call me Anus now? And” – she paused – “Cumhole, could you please call me Anus too?”

“That’s not my name, Rachel!” protested Brooke.  “And it’s not yours, either.”

“Calm down and do what your daughter wants, Cumhole,” said Dave, and once again the whole table laughed.  He looked at Rachel.  “Of course we’ll use that as your name, Anus.  I’m so glad you’ve found a name you like.”

Brooke stood up, shaking with anger.  “How dare you!” she screamed.  “How dare you give in to this Etreborian… misogynist nonsense!”

Rachel looked at Milo.  She genuinely was crying now.  “Sir,” she said, “my mother won’t accept her name, or mine.  Would you please punish me for her mistake?”

“Of course, Anus,” said Milo – and slapped her across the face.

Brooke gasped.

“Please keep punishing me until my mother learns,” said Rachel.

Milo slapped her again.

“Stop that!” shrieked Brooke.

“Brooke, it’s what our daughter wants,” said Dave.  “Look, she’s consenting.  And have you ever seen her so respectful?  Isn’t this what we always wanted for her?”

Milo slapped Rachel again.  There was a red mark on her cheek where he had hit her. 

There was an expression on Rachel’s face that Dave could see but his wife couldn’t – an expression of slutty lust.  She was getting aroused from being slapped – and more aroused with each hit.

“Please stop slapping my daughter!” pleaded Brooke.

“What’s her name, honey?” asked Dave.

Brooke paused – so Milo slapped Rachel again.

“Anus!” said Brooke, finally.  “Her name is Anus.”

“And what would we call you in Etrebor?” asked Milo.

Brooke’s shoulders slumped, defeated.  “Cumhole,” she said.  “You’d call me Cumhole.”

Milo smiled.  “Ah, very good,” he said.  “Then you will surely not be upset if from time to time we forget, and address you in the Etreborian fashion.”

“No,” said Brooke.

“No, sir,” corrected Milo.

“No, sir,” said Brooke.

“Very good,” said Milo.  “And while I would never presume to punish a cunt without the permission of her husband, you should be aware that if I feel frustrated by your disrespect, I *will* vent it on your daughter, with her consent.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” said Brooke, quietly.

“Good,” said Milo.  “Now, sit, Cumhole.  And pass me the sugar.”


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