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Michael stopped the car. They weren’t at his house. Rather, they were at a dark, overgrown, disused park.
Claire was still looking at Michael in confusion and shock, processing not only her pregnancy, and her rape by her father, and her homelessness, but also the idea of *marrying* Michael in exchange for her food, medical bills, and a roof over her head.
“Get out,” Michael told her.
Claire didn’t want to get out. The streetlights here were broken, and the park looked scary, and anyway, she was naked, with Michael’s sperm dripping from her lips and her father’s dripping from her cunt.
“That wasn’t a request,” said Michael. He leaned over and opened the passenger side door, and then used his foot to kick Claire out of the car, onto the curb. He got out and went around to her, where he was joined by his sister, Brea.
He knelt down to where she sprawled on the pavement, and stroked her face.
“Claire,” he said, “when a girl cockteases men into gangbanging a rape baby into her, and then seduces her own father, there often aren’t any choices available for how her life is going to be. But I love you, even though no one else ever would, so I’m offering you a choice.”
He pointed at the park. A graffitied, half-broken picnic table was dimly visible in the shadows. “The first choice is that I chain you to that table over there, so you won’t get lost in the night. Because in this choice, the only way you can find a place to live, and pay for your baby, is to become a prostitute, and it’s best that you get started on fucking random homeless men tonight, because you’re going to spend the rest of your life living in poverty and getting raped by anonymous men.”
“Or,” he continued, “you can propose to me. You can ask me to marry you. And *if* you’re the kind of woman that I want to marry, then I’ll accept, and you’ll come to live with me and Brea, and I’ll look after you and be a father to your baby.”
She looked up at him. “What.. what kind of woman do you want to marry?” she asked, her voice trembling.
“Well, I like a woman who isn’t pretentious,” said Michael. “And who knows what she truly is. In your case, it’s a cockteasing rape-slut. Do you accept that you’re a cockteasing rape-slut, Claire?”
She shivered in the night air. She didn’t want to say yes. But she was naked in public, with her own father’s sperm in her pussy.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“And I like a woman who is useful,” said Michael. “I want a wife who will cook, and clean, and drink my piss like a good toilet. Is that you, Claire?”
In Claire’s fantasies of marriage she had certainly never planned on drinking her husband’s piss, but her recent rapes had taught her that this was something that would happen to her, and that she was clearly the kind of girl destined to be pissed in and on.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“And I want a wife who gets along with my family and friends,” said Michael. “You’re such a cockteasing slut that I think it’s inevitable that my father and mother and sister will want to rape you, and my friends too, and I think it would be unfair to tell them they can’t. Are you prepared to let them all rape you, Claire?”
She was speaking through tears now. “Yes,” she whimpered.
“And I want a wife who isn’t needy,” said Michael. “I don’t want a wife who is always wanting pleasure from sex, and needing to cum all the time. Sex is about the man’s pleasure, and ideally a woman should be in pain when she’s being fucked. Do you agree with that, Claire?”
She was broken now. “Yes,” she said, sobbing.
“Good girl,” said Michael. “Brea, get her ready. Lick her father’s sperm out of her so she’s clean and ready for me. And then set her up for her proposal.”
Brea helped Claire up from the ground and led her over to the table, She got Claire to climb up on the table, and lie on top of it, back down and tits up. She took a pair of wristcuffs from the car, and used them to chain Clair’s wrists to the table, above her head.
“A woman should never be in control of anything, ever,” she whispered to Claire, “especially during sex.”
Then she spread Claire’s legs and began licking at Claire’s pussy.
Claire was still tearful , but she also began to moan with lust under the stimulus of Brea’s skilled tongue. Soon she was back in what Brea thought of as “the perfect female state” – crying, but sexually aroused.
Now Brea stopped, and undressed herself. Michael, too, was taking off his clothes.
Once she was naked, Brea took a special strip of cloth, passed it under Claire’s back, and then secured it across her tits. Claire squeaked with pain, because the cloth across her breasts had small, sharp pins stuck through it, which now poked into her titflesh.
“Hush,” said Brea. “They won’t draw blood. But you agreed that a woman should be in pain during sex, remember?”
Then Brea slipped a plastic sheath onto her brother’s cock. It was thin, to allow for him to enjoy the act of fucking, but the outside had small semi-rigid spikes on it. It was open at the end to let the tip of his cock pass through it, so that he could still ejaculate freely.
Claire couldn’t see it, from her position, but she would feel it soon enough. Brea had tested it on herself, and confirmed that the thing would do no real damage to a vagina, but that it would hurt like hell itself as it was fucked in and out of a woman.
Finally, Brea pulled Michael near to Claire, and connected the sheath on his cock to a small wire, which itself led to a tiny clamp, which she now connected to Claire’s clitoris. Claire squealed – but the true pain was still to come, as Michael would tug agonisingly on Claire’s sensitive clit each time he pulled back from her.
“Beg me to rape you, Claire,” said Michael. “Ask me to violate you, just like you did with the men who impregnated you, and like you did with your daddy. I won’t rape you unless you ask for it. I’ll just leave you here, chained up. You have to ask, if you want to be raped.”
Claire was so confused – humiliated, traumatised, vulnerable, in pain. She didn’t know what she wanted. But she knew she didn’t want to be left here, alone, chained to a table, nude.
“Please…” she whimpered. “Please rape me.”
“Of course,” said Michael, and plunged his spiked cock into her wet pussy.
She squealed with pain as it went in. It was loud – but nobody was likely to come. The residents of this neighbourhood knew better than to investigate screams in this park. If someone was being mugged, or raped, or even murdered here, it was no business of theirs.
“This is your first consensual heterosexual sex, Claire,” said Brea. She had her phone out to record Claire’s violation. “I bet this is how you always dreamed of losing your virginity.”
“Please…” whimpered Claire. “It hurts.”
“I know it does,” said Michael, pushing his cock deeper inside her. “But that’s what you deserve, isn’t it? You just said so. And I know that you enjoy it when it hurts, Claire. In fact, that’s how you’re going to propose. You’re going to propose by cumming. Despite the fact that you’re being painfully raped in a dirty a park, you’re going to orgasm like the slut you are. And if you orgasm for me, and scream out, ‘Please marry me, Michael’ when you cum, then I’ll marry you, Claire. But if you can’t do that, then I’m going to leave you here for the bums and the junkies to gang-rape. Do you understand that, Claire?”
She didn’t. But she tried. “Yes,” she said.
“What do you have to do, Claire?” asked Michael, thrusting inside her again.
“Ask me to marry you while I’m cumming,” said Claire, wincing from the pain.
“Good girl,” said Michael. “That’s right. Now, to get you in the mood, why don’t you tell me the story of how you wanted to have a rape baby, so you teased those men into gang-fucking you and impregnating you.”
She didn’t want to tell that story – in part because she didn’t *know* that story, because it hadn’t happened – but Michael prompted her when she got stuck, and when she wasn’t being sexy enough he pressed his hands down on the spiked strip over her tits, or just slapped her across the face, and soon Claire was telling a pretty credible sexy story that cast her as the instigator of her rape and impregnation.
She talked about masturbating to the idea of being impregnated through rape. She talked about wearing slutty clothes as she walked around her neighbourhood and jiggling her tits in the hope of attracting rapists. She told him how she had not only gotten into her rape van willingly, but egged her rapists on to greater feats of violation and degradation. She talked about how she had orgasmed at the moment of her impregnation, and how she masturbated to memories of it afterwards.
It pleased Michael immensely – and he planned to have her repeat the story on many occasions in the future, until she came to believe it was true – but what also pleased him were signs that she was becoming aroused from the slutty story. Her whimpers of pain as he fucked her were becoming less frequent, and instead she was making small, slutty moans.
Looking at her now, it was hard to believe he had ever seen her as innocent, or virginal. It was clear she had been born to be treated in exactly the way he was treating her now.
And it occurred to him that he truly owned Claire. If she would accept this happening to her, she would accept anything. She had been the object of his fantasies since puberty, and now he could use her for literally any purpose he imagined. Her pretty face was his to kiss or slap or piss on. Her tits were his to squeeze, or pull or punch. Her holes were his to ejaculate into or piss into or share with his friends and family.
“Now tell me how you teased your father into raping you,” he told her.
And as she described a new reality, in which she had never been a loving daughter, but rather a perverted succubus focused on her own father’s cock, Michael had to pace himself, to avoid cumming before Claire did – possibly the only time from now on, in the rest of Claire’s life, that anyone would care about whether she orgasmed or not.
But orgasm she did – somewhere around saying how she’d dreamed of sucking her father’s cock and tasting his sperm. Her body began to buck, her cunt pumping hard against his spined cock-sheath, and she made a noise that was half scream and half moan.
“Please, marry me, Michael,” she squealed. “Please. Please. Marry me.”
And Michael’s response was to orgasm himself, finally spurting his seed up inside her slutty, abused cunt.
“Yes,” he breathed.
And just like that, Claire was his.
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