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Previous chapters of this story:
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six

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The release of Sisterhood’s first music video was the worst night of the girls’ lives so far.

The four girls had been so focused on fame, on musical success, and on pleasing Calvin that they hadn’t allowed themselves to dwell on the fact that the world was really going to *see* their music video.  But once it was released, that reality came crashing home to them.

Leah was finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate on anything except her tits these days.  Calvin had put her on a vigorous five-times-a-day milking program, using an industrial milking machine.  The process of having her tits violently sucked on by a machine left them constantly sore and painful – but even worse, the more she was milked, the more milk she produced, and now she found she *needed* to be milked at least three times a day to avoid the pressure in her udders becoming unbearably painful.

On the night of the music video’s release, Leah’s friends held a watch party for it.  Leah hadn’t told them she was called “Sex-Cow” now – although they had noticed the swelling in her breasts with interests – but Calvin insisted on her dressing for the event in cow accessories, including a cowbell, cow-ear headband, and cow-print gloves for both her hands.  The gloves ended in fake hooves, preventing her from gripping anything or using her hands properly, and Calvin locked her into them with small padlocks, preventing them from being removed.

There was laughter when she showed up at the party, but even more laughter when the music video started to play and they saw Leah in it, dressed much as she was at the party, except with her tits and cunt completely exposed.  The camera showed merciless close-ups of Leah’s shaved pussy – visibly wet – and her giant udders – with milk leaking from the nipples.

Mooo!  My name is Sex-Cow
My udders are so big
I’m a stupid sexy pig

Mooo!  I want to show how
If you hurt my tits it’s fun
You can cover them with cum. 
You can treat me like I’m cattle
You know I’ll never tattle
That I’m a lesbian’s no lie
But you can rape and milk me till I cry

In the video, Leah danced and wobbled her giant tits around, and the footage of this was intercut with a scene of Leah in an erotic tangle with the other girls of the group.  Fuckpet knelt between Leah’s legs, licking her pussy, while Little Miss Rape stood behind her, licking her neck, reaching around to squeeze Leah’s udders.  Cocktease stood in front of her, alternately slapping and punching Leah’s tits as Little Miss Rape Squeezed them, and on each hit milk squirted from Leah’s nipples.

Leah could barely remember filming this.  She hadn’t wanted to, but Calvin had shown her the footage of all the girls raping Cocktease and threatened to take it to the police, then made them all rub their cunts to the edge of orgasm until they could hardly think straight.  By the time this degrading scene had been filmed, Leah was barely aware she was in front of cameras.

Her friends put the video on repeat, looping endlessly on the large TV, and passed around alcoholic drinks.  Leah wanted to leave, but her friends were insistent she stay.  As the night went on, everyone got drunker, and most of the girls left, and then the inevitable happened – someone wanted to see her udders, and when Leah tried to say no, her shirt was lifted without her consent, and then ripped off, and then her skirt and panties were removed too, and before Leah could even try to escape, she was being gang raped.

Boys who had once been her friends stuffed their cocks into her pussy, her mouth and her ass without her consent.  She moaned, and tried to please them, scared of what they might do if she didn’t, and to her relief her body responded by becoming aroused, conditioned by her recent practice to mindless sexual readiness.

By the end of the night, Leah didn’t have male friends anymore – only rapists.  And she knew they would try to rape her again, and she knew she would let them.

During the night, some of the boys had squeezed or milked or tits, and this had made Leah moan with gratitude and lust.  Some had punched her in the tits, like in the video, and this had been even more arousing.  

But when morning came, and Leah woke on a couch, wet with cum, her cunt and ass aching, her most pressing need was still there.  Her tits were full, and she needed to be milked.  She tried to milk herself, but the cow-hoof gloves were still locked to her wrists, and she couldn’t squeeze herself hard enough.  She couldn’t even get dressed, with the gloves on her wrists, or use her phone to call for help.

But she didn’t need to.  When she looked out the windows, there was a car waiting outside for her.  It was Calvin.  She ran out of the house to him gratefully – still nude.

“I need my udders milked,” she said, blushing, as she reached him.

“We’ll take care of that, Sex-Cow,” said Calvin.  “Your music video was a hit.  You’re a star now.  Get in the car.”

She moved to enter the passenger seat, but he stopped her.  “No,” he told her.  “Cows don’t ride in the people seats.”  He opened the boot.

She looked up at him in despair – but she knew he was right.  She was nude, covered in the sperm of her friends, and desperate to have her tits milked like an animal.  She didn’t deserve to travel like *people*.  Humiliated, defeated, she climbed into the car boot, and let Calvin close it with her inside.

She already knew that Calvin was *not* going to take the cow-hoof gloves off her when they arrived at his place – now, or possibly ever again – and that she was going to need a man to milk her from now on every time her tits got full.  A part of her hated Calvin for doing this to her – for turning her into this – but a part of her felt that maybe this had always been her destiny, from the day her tits had grown to such a slutty size, and felt absurdly grateful to Calvin for being willing to milk her and take care of her….

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Mary-Beth was forced to watch the video with her family and her church community.

She tried to avoid it, but they knew she was recording a pop-song, and they wouldn’t countenance the idea of doing anything other than showing their support on the night of the music-video release.

There were nearly 30 people crammed into her parents’ living room as the video started.  And the gasps began almost immediately.  There was there darling, virginal Mary-Beth, completely naked except for crucifix nipple and clitoris clamps, calling herself “Llittle Miss Rape”, spreading her pussy and lezzing off with other whores.

Little Miss Rape is my given name
Lesbianism is my slutty shame
My mother says I’m going to hell
Because I lick her cunt so well 

I need a man to set me straight
It’s better if it’s one I hate
You need to stick your cock in me
To rape me, cure me, set me free

On screen, Mary-Beth fucked her pussy with a large crucifix-shaped dildo while Sex-Cow knelt behind her and tongued her asshole.

The reaction when the video was over was icy, horrified silence.  Mary-Beth felt herself dying inside, dying of shame and guilt and self-loathing over what she had done.

Her father looked at her, and said only one sentence.

“Get out, you disgusting little whore, and don’t ever, ever come back.”

Mary-Beth fled, crying, into the night.  She didn’t know where to go.  She didn’t know what to do.  She found a park, and ripped off her clothes, and began slapping her cunt and her tits with her hands, trying to punish herself for being such a disgusting slut.  The pain just made her wet, and soon she was just masturbating, fingering her pussy, naked in a public park.  She pictured how good Leah’s tongue had felt against her anus as she did so.  She remembered the taste of Cocktease’s cunt when she had raped the poor lesbian.  She remembered Fuckpet licking her pussy.  And she orgasmed again, and again, and again, crying the whole time.

When she was done, she knew there was only one option.  No one she had known in her old life would have anything to do with her now.  To her family, and her church, and her friends, she was now nothing but a lesbian whore.

There was only one person who would take her in.  He would abuse her, of course, and probably rape her – but didn’t she deserve to be abused and raped?  A girl whose own father had – correctly – called her a disgusting whore?

She took out her phone and called Calvin.

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Katy knew what was about to happen.  She didn’t watch the video with friends.  She just hid in her apartment on the night of the music video release.

As it became public, her phone began to buzz with texts and messages.  They were from her friends in the lesbian community, expressing horror and disgust at her betrayal of them, of her identity, of her dignity.  Katy knew she was done with those friends.  They would never accept her again.

After a while, there was a knock at the door.  “Katy, let me in!” said a male voice.  “It’s Brendan!”

Katy felt a surge of relief.  Brendan had been her friend since primary school.  He had known her since before she identified as a lesbian.  He wouldn’t care about what she had done.  She hurried to the door, and let him in.

“So I saw the video,” he said, as he came in, and sat beside Katy on the couch.

“I know,” said Katy.  “I’m so sorry.”  She felt tears welling in her eyes.

“It’s okay,” said Brendan, in a soft caring voice.  And then he continued – and his words made Katy freeze in horror.  “You know, if you had rape fantasies, you only needed to ask.”

Her eyes widened.  “No, I…” she began.

“Sshh,” said Brendan – and slapped her across the face.  He pushed her down on the couch, and began to rip at her clothes.  Katy struggled, but Brendan was bigger and stronger, and she felt her clothes tear, exposing her breasts and pussy.

“Sing your verse for me,” he told her, as he unzipped his fly.

“Nooo….” Katy moaned – but Brendan slapped her, and slapped her again.

“Be a good Cocktease for me,” he said.  And Katy had no choice to comply.  She began to softly sing her verse of the song as Brendan sank his erect cock into her unwilling lesbian pussy.

Call me Cocktease – that’s what I am
I say I’m gay – it’s just a sham
My lips say no – but disregard
I just kiss girls to make you hard 

I want you to force me
Just like you should now
And when you rape me
It feels so good now

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 to her horror, she got wet.  She had always been wet when she sang that song – Calvin had made them masturbate so often – and she found that the mere act of singing it caused her pussy to become aroused, even as she was being non-consensually raped.

It’s just the song, she told herself.  It’s Calvin.  It’s Calvin’s fault.

And she could tell herself that.  But when Brendan began to fuck her harder, and spit in her mouth, and slap her across the face, and then eventually shuddered and spurted his cum into her unprotected womb, she had no explanation at all for why she orgasmed along with him.

When Brendan departed – leaving Katy crying nude on the couch, his cum leaking from her pussy – he left her front door open, and a short time later Calvin entered.  He lifted her from the couch, and she made no attempt to struggle, and he carried her out to his car, and put her in the boot.

“I orgasmed,” she told him, looking up at him from the boot with big, vulnerable eyes.  “I orgasmed when he raped me.”

“I know,” said Calvin.  “I’ve always known you would.”

“I deserve this,” she said.

“Yes,” he agreed, and closed the boot.

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When all the girls were gathered at Calvin’s apartment, they joined Fuckept, who was already there.  Her training collar had all but removed her ability to speak, and left her almost wholly unable to interact with the world normally.  She had moved in with Calvin some days ago, and had spent the debut of her music video sucking on Calvin’s cock as Calvin stroked her hair.

“Congratulations on your musical success, girls,” he told the four women.  All of them were nude, all of them submissive, defeated, finally stripped of their notions that they didn’t deserve constant violation and degradation.  

“Thank you, sir,” chorused the girls.  

“Sex-Cow and Cocktease, you’ve both just been raped.  Why don’t you go ahead and lick the rape-cum off each other and get all cleaned up?  Meanwhile, Mary-Beth, I don’t think it’s fair that your friends have been raped but you haven’t, would you agree?”

Mary-Beth was crying again.  “Yes, sir, I deserve to be raped,” she said.

“Good girl,” said Calvin.  He bent her over the lounge, in a position where he would have a good view of the other girls licking their rapists’ cum out of each other’s snatches, and sighed happily as he slid his penis into her virginal cunt.  It was wet, of course, and it spasmed enjoyably around each cock with each sob as Mary-Beth cried.  

“I think you’re all going to enjoy your new homes,” he told the girls as he violated Little Miss Rape.  He gestured to the wall of the apartment, where a row of four wire cages had been set up.  Each was only just big enough to hold a girl, on all fours, and each had thick dildos at the front and back.  A girl inside would have to be impaled on them to fit within, one in her mouth and one in her cunt.  Nameplates were affixed to each cage – Sex-Cow, Cocktease, Little Miss Rape and Fuckpet.  

“Thank you, sir,” sobbed Mary-Beth, who knew it was exactly what she deserved.  Sex-Cow and Cocktease would have said the same, had their mouths not been busy.

“Fuckpet, why don’t you sing your verse for us while I rape your sister here?” asked Calvin.

And Fuckpet obediently did, singing the only words she was allowed to use now.

Meow meow meow meow.
Meow meow meow.

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