This story is set in the Pop World universe. You can buy the first 60-page collection of Pop World stories for only $3.99 USD in the store – and your purchase supports the creation of new, free stories! (Click here to view.)
Previous chapters of this story:
One | Two | Three | Four
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Katy didn’t want to kiss him, and as far as Calvin was concerned, that was unacceptable.
“I told you to kiss me, Cocktease,” he told her as she squirmed, nude, in the dance studio while the other three girls looked on.
“But I actually *am* a lesbian,” Katy protested. She had discovered over the last few days that the pink hair and bright lipstick that seemed so cute when she was dressed made her look like a fuckdoll when she was nude, and it made her blush every time Calvin stared at her.
“I know,” said Calvin. “And that’s why you have to kiss me. Your character in the group is that you’re the *fake* lesbian, remember, who secretly wants to be raped by men? No one will ever believe that if you don’t make out with men from time to time.”
“But…” Katy objected.
“Don’t make me ask again, Cocktease,” said Calvin threateningly.
Blushing, Katy leaned in, her tits brushing against Calvin’s button-up-shirt, and kissed him chastely on the lips.
Calvin sighed, and pushed the button on his remote. Katy’s “training clamp”, fixed painfully to her clitoris, gave her a sharp shock, and Katy squealed.
“If I don’t believe that you want to fuck me, then you’re doing it wrong,” said Calvin. “Try again.”
Her second effort wasn’t much better than her first, although she opened her mouth a little. He gave her another shock, and that was enough. Her third try had all the passion her first two had lacked. She pushed her tongue into his mouth, and let him suck on it, and he could taste her fear and humiliation, which made it extra hot.
“Good girl,” he said when it was done, and she was blushing and avoiding eye contact. “You’re going to kiss me like that every time you say hello or goodbye from now on, and I expect it to feel like you’re desperate to be fucked. Understand?”
“Yes, sir,” said the humiliated lesbian, and, satisfied, he let her scurry away to join the other girls.
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Sisterhood practiced for two weeks, every day, for eight hours a day. He had them run through their slutty debut single “Sistersluts” endlessly, practicing the lewd dance moves and degrading lyrics until the girls were dreaming them in their sleep. The day was coming soon when they would record the music video for the song, and perform it in front of a real audience, and they needed to be ready.
And as they practiced their song, they also practiced their new identity. Calvin had set up rules and rituals specifically to help this happen.
First, he had told the girls he expected them to arrive at dance practice sexually aroused. “Your sexual energy is what sells the music,” he said. “The audience can tell the difference between a girl’s who’s frigid and a girl who’s wet. I want you to get used to dancing horny. I don’t care how you do it, but I want your cunts to be wet when you walk into this dance studio.”
And he tested them, each morning, sticking a finger into their pussy after they had undressed, and having them suck his finger clean if it discovered fuckhoney. It only took a couple of days of zapping the girls for being dry before they got with the program and started edging before the start of the day.
Next he would have the girls pair up. Each girl would tell their partner what they found most sexually attractive about her. Then the girls would kiss – a long, slutty tongue kiss – while checking that their partner’s pussy was wet with their fingers. Then each girl would kiss the other’s cunt – not deeply, but enough to taste her wetness. Finally, the girls would swap partners and repeat, until each girl had partnered with every other girl.
There was some hesitation about this at first, but their training clamps helped convince them. And in any case, Katy was eager to kiss and cunt-lick the other girls, and Mary-Beth got ridiculously wet from it, despite her Christian protestations, and when Delilah tried to object by saying anything other than “meow”, her pet collar gave her a painful shock.
Leah – who Calvin called “Sex-Cow” – was the only one who genuinely tried to protest, so he set her homework, telling her she was to arrive three hours early for each training session and spend it masturbating to lesbian porn without allowing herself to cum. Within days, the impact on her sleep schedule and the sustained arousal had left her dazed and stupid and unable to protest, and once her slutty confusion had caused her to grab Delilah’s head during the morning ritual and started humping the poor girl’s face until she orgasmed, there were no further complaints from Leah.
The girls were expected to kiss and make out casually throughout their interactions, too, and in this area Katy was again the leader. She would often approach Mary-Beth and kiss her, or casually touch her tits, seeming to enjoy the way that Mary-Beth blushed with shame at these interactions, and because any behaviour from the girls that suggested they weren’t lesbians was punished with a zap to their training clamps, Mary-Beth soon learned to return Katy’s affection.
Calvin was particularly pleased by the way that all the girls began to dehumanise poor Delilah – or “Fuckpet” as they increasingly called her. Unable to say anything other than “meow” without being shocked, the pretty brunette had little to contribute to conversations, and the girls would kiss her and fondle her without asking for consent, stroke her hair as if she really were an animal, and otherwise ignore her and exclude her from their socialising. One lunchtime he found Leah throwing a dildo across the dance floor for Fuckpet as if it were a stick, and Fuckpet, desperate for attention and approval, was scurrying to retrieve it on all fours and bringing it back in her mouth, to Leah’s delight.
Each night after practice he would take the girls out for dinner, at the “Titty House”, the strip club next door to the studio. This was an excuse to dress the girls in a range of trial costumes, all of them slutty, and none of them fully covering the girls’ tits and pussy. They went without panties, in short skirts, in see-through tops, with their tits falling out, showing off sideboob, or underboob, looking like walking rapebait.
The girls objected fiercely at first, but he coerced them out the door in their slutwear and into the Titty House using the training clamps, and once the girls realised they were actually better dressed than the other woman there, they began to relax. It was an important part of getting the girls to feel it was normal and appropriate to be dressed like a whore in public.
At the club, the girls watched strippers undress, dance, and simulate sex on stage, and each girl reached the important realisation that the dance they were learning for “Sistersluts” was more lewd and degrading than the work of professional strippers. Seeing them realise that was delicious for Calvin, but seeing them accept that they were still going to keep dancing was even better.
At these events, he paired up Leah (Sex-Cow) and Mary-Beth (Little Miss Rape) as girlfriends. The two would kiss and paw at each other’s tits as they watched the strippers. Meanwhile Katy (Cocktease) sat in Calvin’s lap and kissed him as he squeezed her udders and pushed his fingers between her legs to finger her cunt.
And Delilah, of course – poor, sexy Fuckpet – sat on all fours on the ground next to them, eating her meals from a bowl, and occasionally getting a chance to lick at Katy’s pussy when Calvin forced the girl’s legs apart and beckoned Delilah in to attend to her. He would make Delilah lick until Katy orgasmed, because he wanted Katy to get used to the experience of orgasming while kissing a man and having him rub her tits.
They were under instructions to watch the strippers on stage if their eyes weren’t needed elsewhere. He wanted the girls to get used to staring at a woman’s tits and cunt while they talked, ate, drank and relaxed. He wanted the sexual objectification of women to become the background noise of their life; to get them to find it natural for women to be decorations and entertainment; to see women sexually degraded and neither look away nor object.
These outings were also practice for getting the girls to identify themselves by their new names, including to any men who took an interest in them. And most nights, he would get one or two of the girls to buy a lapdance from a girl they liked the look of – although never Katy, who would only get to look on enviously while pretending that her manager wasn’t finger-raping her pussy, and that it wasn’t making her wet.
On the last night of the fortnight, he forced the girls to go to the strip club completely nude. It was educational for all the girls to realise that they would, in fact, step out on the street completely naked if they were told to, out of fear of the training clamp and fear of being kicked out of the group and losing their shot at fame. Even though they only had to walk a few short metres to the strip club, it was still intensely humiliating for them, not just to expose themselves to the street, but to realise they would choose to do so, if they were told to.
Inside the club, he had another surprise for them – they were performing. They were going to get up on stage and perform “Sistersluts” for the crowd.
They didn’t want to. Katy cried, when he told her she had to.
“There are *men* looking at me!” she wailed.
“Good,” he told her. “You’d best learn to get wet from that. It will go easier on you.”
“Meow!” protested Delilah, looking at the horny crowd assembled around the stage. Calvin ignored her.
In the end, the girls got up, and, nervous, shaking, began to sing their song.
Sister Sluts! One, two, three, four!
Tell the world I’m a lezbo whore!
My fucktoy sisters I adore!
I lick their cunts and come back for more!
(Good girls fuck their sisters!)
(Good girls let men watch!)
The crowd went wild. They loved these dancing teenaged lesbian sluts. They cheered and clapped and hooted indecent propositions, and the girls on stage went crimson with humiliation – but Calvin could see that it also had an effect on them that the men *liked* them. It may be a drunken mob at a strip club, but they had *fans*. People enjoyed their singing and dancing.
So they sang louder, and wiggled their tits and ass harder, and Mary-Beth tried to pretend she wasn’t so wet that her slut-honey was visibly glistening on her inner thighs, and Fuckpet tried to pretend that after a fortnight of being ignored and dehumanised the attention didn’t make her deliriously happy.
Sex-Cow – Leah – wiggled her udders on her verse, and then slapped them hard, and when she did, a little squirt of white fluid spurted from her nipples. Her eyes widened and she almost lost her place in the song. It was just colostrum, the pre-milk produced by a breast before real milk production begins, but it was an undeniably good sign. Sex-Cow was beginning to lactate.
When Mary-Beth’s verse came, she shoved her microphone up her wet fuckhole just as she had practiced, and as she did, everyone could hear the amplified sound of her suddenly and embarrassingly orgasming. Afterwards, they could see the pure degradation on her face as she licked her fuckjuices off it afterwards.
Katy sang her verse:
I only fuck my sisters ‘cos I’m craving dick
It’s only being raped that makes my pussy slick
And I will cocktease you until you use me – use me
Go on and abuse me
And as she sang she tried to avoid eye contact with the men in the crowd, not wanting to sing *to* them, not wanting to give them ideas, and it just resulted in her gaze locking on Calvin, and her face turning a pretty beetroot colour as she looked him in the eyes and begged him to rape her.
And when Fuckpet came forward and sang “meow meow meow”, the audience *laughed* – wild, cruel, uproarious guffaws – and if Fuckpet had retained any delusions that she was a human with dignity and respect, that laughter broke it down violently. It was impossible for her to remember that she was a cute young teenaged girl with friends and a future. It simply couldn’t co-exist with the memory of crawling naked on all fours at a strip-club, her cunt wet and her ass plugged with a tail butt-plug, as a crowd of horny men laughed at her.
Calvin had filmed the whole thing, and over the weekend he would call the girls in for “special practice”. He was going to make each girl masturbate non-stop, all weekend, looking at their moment of greatest humiliation that night.
Leah would watch herself squirting milk from her nipples, while she fingerfucked herself and tried to tease more liquid from her udders. Mary-Beth would hear the squelching sounds of her fuckhole orgasming into a microphone again and again. Katy would watch herself beg to be raped as she stared at Calvin. And Delilah would be forced to rub her cunt while listening to that laughter, for hour after hour after hour, without release.
And by the time it was done, the girls would at last be ready to become famous.
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