Previous chapters:
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When Brielle came home that night from work at the church, Jillian suspected that the pastor had made some further advance on her wife, and when Brielle winced upon sitting down on the wooden chairs at the dinner table, she had a good idea of what it might be.
“How did things go with the pastor, honey?” she asked casually.
Brielle blushed. “He… uh… spanked me.”
“What for?” asked Jillian.
“Being a lesbian slut,” whispered Brielle, looking down. “He watched us… lezzing off… this morning and he said I needed to be spanked for being a lesbian slut.”
Jillian had never heard her wife use that phrase “lezzing off” before. Only months ago Brielle would have outright refused to say such a crude and homophobic thing.
“What did he say about… what he watched?” asked Jillian.
“He said we were disgusting cunt-licking whores who would doubtless go to hell,” said Brielle, “unless we were redeemed by a man. He said we needed to have our whorish brains fixed through discipline and the grace of God.”
She paused and then added, “He hit me forty times on my butt with a paddle… and then another ten times on the pussy because he said our display had sinfully teased his cock. The pussy ones hurt much worse.”
“Through your panties?” asked Jillian, and Brielle blushed deeper in response.
“No, he made me take off my skirt and panties,” said Brielle.
Jillian felt two intense surges of jealousy. The first was that a man had seen – and spanked – her wife’s cunt. And the second was that the man wasn’t Joel, who was the true owner of Jillian and her wife.
She was powerless to direct that anger at the pastor, so she made use of it by directing it at Brielle.
“God, Brielle, you’re such a cocktease,” she said. “I can’t believe you showed your cunt to the pastor and asked him to spank it.”
Brielle’s eyes widened. “I didn’t!” she objected. “It was his idea…”
“I mean, sure, it was his idea *after* you fucked me on camera this morning when you knew the pastor was watching,” said Jillian. “After the pastor specifically gave us clit-shocking clamps to help stop us from being lesbian sluts with each other.”
Brielle didn’t know what to say to this. Tears formed in her eyes.
“You know you’re lucky to have someone who puts up with this kind of slutty behaviour?” said Jillian. “I think other priests would just tell the congregation you’re a whore and then cast you out of the church.”
“I…” Brielle began, and stopped, not knowing how to reply.
“You need to be grateful to the pastor,” said Jillian. “He knows what’s best for you. When you go into work tomorrow, I want you to give him a kiss on the lips, and thank him for spanking your cunt, okay?”
“Kiss him?” said Brielle.
“Like a heterosexual girl, to show that you’re learning,” said Jillian. “Use your tongue. It will be good practice. And then tell him you need another cunt spanking for being ungrateful.”
Confused, ashamed, and insecure, Brielle nodded. She would do as Jillian said.
“Was that all?” asked Jillian.
Brielle jumped. “Oh, no,” she said. “He sent home another box for us.” She pointed to a cardboard box on the table.
Jillian examined the contents. More bottles of sperm. Part of her was repulsed, but a greater part was eager to drink more delicious male cum, and to feed it to Brielle. And there was a card in the box too.
“What does it say?” asked Brielle, coming over to look at the card.
“It’s a podcast recommendation,” said Jillian. “Just A Whorish Phase – The Lesbian Lie And How To Fix It. I think the pastor wants us to listen to this.”
She pulled it up on the phone and looked through the episode titles. “New science explains why lesbians are stupider than other women. The connection between daddy issues and the lesbian lie. How women are biologically coded to need cock. The lesbian conspiracy of male-deprived unhappiness. The scientific case for corrective rape. How to slap your lesbian daughter straight. More so-called lesbians orgasm from heterosexual rape than you’d think.”
She made a face, unable to stop herself. This was homophobic and gross, and she wanted to say so. But she had agreed to support the pastor’s ideas to Brielle – and Joel needed her to do that, too, until his plan could pay off. So she did her best to unscrunch her mouth and nose and look happy instead.
“I think these could be really good for us, honey,” she said. “We should probably listen to them whenever we get the chance.”
Brielle seemed uncertain, but nodded. “The pastor knows best,” she said.
Jillian hated to hear those words, but she agreed – with a slight change. “Men know what’s best for us.”
To Jillian’s satisfaction, Brielle nodded again.
“Now let’s share this nice drink that the pastor has given us,” said Jillian, picking up a bottle of sperm. She poured a little into her mouth, and then stepped forward to share it with Brielle via a kiss.
She saw Brielle flinch as Jillian approached, anticipating the electroshocks the clamp on her clit was going to give her for engaging in lesbian activity with Jillian. What was worse, Jillian felt that same flinch in herself. Part of her didn’t want to kiss Brielle, because it would hurt.
Could the pastor really condition them to fear and hate lesbian sex – even as their sexuality still desired it? Could he train them out of lezzing off? Or would it only fuck up their sexual instincts more than they already were?
Jillian told herself that it would change when they were free of the pastor. They wouldn’t have these clamps on their clits – not unless Joel wanted them – and they would enjoy fucking because Joel would be telling them to fuck. He would be giving them permission. They would be performing for his entertainment.
The surge of arousal that this idea brought her overrode her hesitation. She stepped forward, grabbed Brielle, and kissed her hard, pushing the pastor’s sperm into Brielle’s mouth with her tongue.
They both squealed as the clamps shocked their cunts, but Jillian kept kissing, and she began to pull off Brielle’s clothes. Brielle had looked so cute after their last sex – crying, insecure, ashamed, not understanding how she had managed to cum from a mouthful of anonymous cum and painful shocks to her twat. Jillian wanted to see her like that again.
And as Brielle began to respond to Jillian with arousal, and kiss her back, at the same time there were tears forming in her eyes. Tears of shame and confusion.
There was nothing better, thought Jililan, than sharing a bottle of sperm with your crying lesbian wife as a man watched you on a spy camera.
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“You actually enjoy fucking her more when she’s crying?” Joel asked Jillian on their next evening together.
Jillian was kneeling at his feet on a soft white fur rug, wearing nothing but an expensive set of lingerie and her “fake lesbian slut collar”. A leash was attached to her collar, which Joel held in his hand. They were both in Joel’s lounge, and a roaring fire in the fireplace was keeping Jillian deliciously warm even in her unclothed state.
Jillian was currently staring at Joel’s groin. She could tell his cock was hard within his pants, and she had confessed her enjoyment of Brielle’s tears partly out of a desire to be honest with the man who owned her, but also partly in the hope that it might arouse him enough to take out his cock and let her suck on it.
“I know it’s fucked up,” she said, “but Brielle is just so pretty when she cries. It makes her all needy and vulnerable. She’ll do anything I say in that state, no matter how fucked-up, and that’s really hot. Besides, everything to do with the pastor is still all her fault, so she kind of deserves it.”
“Don’t do that,” said Joel.
“Do what, sir?” said Jillian.
“Don’t justify your fetishes,” said Joel. “I own you now, remember? Your morals and ethics aren’t things for you to think about anymore. I make those decisions.”
“Of course, sir,” said Jillian, lowering her head in submission.
“It’s okay for you to enjoy Brielle’s tears,” said Joel. “All that matters is they make you horny. The purpose of lesbians is sex, remember? Any way of extracting sexual enjoyment from Brielle is permitted, in the same way that I wouldn’t concern myself with your consent or pleasure if I decided I would enjoy spanking your tits or slapping your face.”
“Yes, sir,” said Jillian. She opened her mind up to what Joel was saying – and suddenly it was like a switch had flipped. What he was saying made perfect sense. It was for Joel to think about ethics, not Jillian. All Jillian needed to do was obey Joel, and pleasure her pussy, and prepare her wife to be Joel’s fuckslave. It really didn’t matter if Brielle cried.
“How did Brielle go with your instructions to kiss the pastor?” asked Joel.
Jillian pouted. “I hate it,” she said. “I hate Brielle kissing a man, and that the man isn’t you. I picture it all the time.”
“Even when you’re masturbating?” asked Joel.
Jillian blushed. Joel knew the answer, but he would make her say it anyway.
“Yes, sir,” she whispered.
“But I didn’t ask you how you felt about it,” said Joel. “I asked you how Brielle was doing.”
“Very poorly,” said Jillian. “She’s very confused. The first time she kissed the pastor on the lips, like I told her to, he slapped her and pushed her away, and called her a slut, and reminded her that he was married. And then he told her to strip naked as her punishment, and he kept her naked all day in his office and spanked her ass twice and her pussy once, and then at the end of the day he told her she was going to need practice kissing if she was going to be a good heterosexual girl, and then they spent thirty minutes kissing, with Brielle completely naked. When they were done he told her she was a disgusting slut, and that no normal girl would kiss their priest in the nude, and then he sent her home with more semen to share with me.”
“That’s good,” said Joel. “We need him to get comfortable with abusing Brielle. He needs to feel like he can get away with anything.”
“Well, I hate it,” pouted Jillian.
“Don’t worry, pet,” said Joel. “Soon it will be nobody but me sexually abusing your wife.”
“Mmm,” purred Jillian, and moved her head closer to his groin.
Joel laughed. “You want your treat, don’t you, pet?”
Jillian nodded her head eagerly.
Joel unzipped his pants and took out his cock. Then he grabbed a double handful of Jillian’s hair and forced her face down on his dick.
Jillian found it hard to believe that she had ever thought that cocks didn’t belong in her mouth. They fit so perfectly – they were so warm and firm, and their cum was so tasty. She thought she could happily suckle on cock all day long, and she eagerly took to pleasing Joel’s now that he had finally given her a chance.
“I need you to bring Brielle to the edge now,” said Joel. “I need you to get her to a place where she’s traumatised and fucked up and feeling like nothing in her life makes sense.”
Jillian looked up with big, submissive eyes, and nodded, her mouth still full of cock.
“And then,” said Joel, “it will be time to tell her that I own her. That she belongs to me, and I’m going to fix everything for her, and she needs me to do that because she’s a silly confused fake lesbian who’s fucked her life and her marriage. Can you do that for me, pet?”
Jillian almost orgasmed on the spot. She nodded her head so eagerly that Joel winced slightly as she jerked his cock back and forth in her mouth.
“Good pet,” said Joel, stroking her hair. “Now suck me until you get your reward…”
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