Story: Pregnant in Modwina, Part 17

Previous chapters:
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen | Sixteen

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Sheriff Rutman informed Tayla that her father would be visiting them in a week. He was coming alone, without Tayla’s mother, and he was eager to see her.

The news made Tayla shake with confused feelings. Her father was coming! And part of her still believed the he was going to save her, and take her away from all the terrible things in Modwina, and restore her to her old life.

But the rational part of her knew this would not happen. Her father had sent her a picture of his erect cock. He’d expressed regret for not fucking her prior to Oscar impregnating her. He had confessed that he’d masturbated to the thought of raping her. And if she had had any further doubt, the fact that her mother wasn’t part of this expedition made her father’s intentions clear.

She knew she was going to fuck her father. Sheriff Rutman would make her. She would be expected to make her own father cum inside her pussy.

She hated that idea – and yet she knew this was happening to her because she deserved it. It wouldn’t happen to a nice a girl. She wasn’t a nice girl – she was a slut.

Rape is your fault, her brain told her. You are raped because you are a cocktease. Enjoy your rape. Accept responsibility for your rape.

The Sheriff took her back to the hospital for an entire day, and Dr Harcourt put her back on the programming table, with the headphones over her ears, and her limbs restrained. Her cunt was alternately electroshocked or pleasured in accordance with the voices she heard in her head.

Don’t be a brat. Bad girl. bzzap
You are raped because you are a cocktease. Bad girl. bzzap
Obey your daddy. Good girl. ding
Make daddy’s cock happy. Good girl. ding

Overhead, on a screen, images of both her biological father and the Sheriff would appear. When she was being shocked, they would be images of frowns and displeasure. When she was being pleasured, her two daddies would smile at her.

As she got close to orgasm, the images changed. Now they only showed her biological father – and next to him, the photo of his erect cock he had sent her.

The voices in her ear changed, too. They now sounded very much like her father – had they found a sample of his voice to train an AI on? He was speaking to her, reading the fantasy he had sent her by email.

“I think it might be fun to punch your tits, or bind them in rope, or whip them with a belt, or make you rub them against something rough, or maybe drag you around by them. I was playing with my cock while I thought about it, and that last idea – dragging you into my bedroom by your tits while you struggled and cried, and then raping you – made me cum.”

And Tayla would helplessly orgasm while staring at her father’s cock and listening to how he wanted to torture her tits.

She came that way three times before the Sheriff took her home again.

At dinners during that week, the Sheriff made Tayla explain why her father had such explicit fantasies about raping her and hurting her tits, and Tayla was forced to make up wholly fictional stories of how she had cockteased her father, and shown him her tits, and acted like a slut in front of him, and begged her father to beat her titties. Afterwards, Edward would beat her tits with a shoe to punish her for being a slut. And in her confused state, Tayla came to partly believe her own stories, just as she had come to believe she had cockteased Oscar into raping her.

It was her fault, her mind told her, that her father wanted to fuck her, because it was something Tayla had actively encouraged him to do.

Another part of her knew that this was nonsense – but whenever that part of her tried to take control, it had trouble.

Women aren’t people. Bad girl. bzzap
Women don’t think. Bad girl. bzzap
Rape is your fault. Bad girl. bzzap
You are raped because you are a cocktease. Bad girl. bzzap

It was so confusing that it made her cry. She wanted the confusion to stop – but the only time her brain turned off that way was when she was aroused. And, try as she might, she couldn’t bring herself to touch her own tits or pussy – her hands simply wouldn’t obey, so well-conditioned had she become.

And so she found herself seeking out the Sheriff, and begging, “Daddy, would you please fuck me?”

It was humiliating, of course, to be raped by the man who had enslaved her, but it was better than allowing herself to think. And she did, usually, orgasm.

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On the night her father arrived for dinner, the Rutmans let Tayla greet him alone.

They chose her clothes, of course. High heels, sexy makeup, a short shirt that read “CUNT” across the front in large letters, her pet collar – and nothing else. Her lactating tits left wet milky circles on the shirt. Her cunt and ass were completely exposed.

She opened the door to her father when he knocked.

This should have been the moment when her father grabbed her, and spirited her away from her captivity, saving her from abuse and rape and degradation and forced breeding.

Instead, as his eyes ran over her large bust, swollen with milk, and down over her pregnant belly and naked twat, she saw the last image of her as his sweet little girl dying in his eyes. He was looking at a pregnant, ridiculous fucktoy – and that was how he was going to think of her from now on.

“Hello, daddy,” she said – and, as she had been instructed, she stepped forward and kissed her father on the mouth.

He let her – neither actively pulling her close, nor pushing her away. He moved his lips against hers, and she could tell that her father was enjoying kissing her.

Then she pulled back and said, “Would you like to see my tits, daddy?”

Her father’s mouth moved, but no sounds came out. He had to have known what he was likely to find in Modwina, based on her emails, and yet the vision of his half-naked pregnant daughter offering to show him her breasts was still a lot to process.

“I can’t touch my own tits, daddy, because I’m a good girl,” said Tayla. “But you can see them if you slap me and then pull up my shirt.”

“Ah…” said her father. He was blushing – but his cock was visibly hard in his pants.

“Would you like me to play with your cock, daddy?” asked Tayla – the last of the questions the Rutmans were making her ask.

Her father blushed even harder. “Um…” he said.

She waited, to see if he would answer, but he didn’t, so – with some relief – she was able to lead him into the kitchen to meet the Rutmans.

The Sheriff and Edgar were dressed smartly for dinner. Bessie, however, was dressed in a similar manner to how Tayla had first met her – in nothing but high heels and an apron, with the front of the apron bunched between her tits to expose her titmeat.

“Mr Torrens, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” said the Sheriff. “This is my son Edgar and my wife Bessie. You’ve raised a very attractive daughter.”

“Uh…” said Mr Torrens, his eyes on Bessie’s exposed tits, “I have to say I’m a little surprised by all of this. Tayla vanished – and then she wrote to me…”

“We call her Snowball,” said the Sheriff. “We find it helps young breeders like Snowball to leave their old names behind and embrace their new role. Yes, your daughter is quite the slut. You were probably already aware of that before she ran away from home, but she was probably quite dishonest about her nature previously. In Modwina, she’s learned to be more truthful. Snowball, tell your daddy what you did last night.”

Tayla knew what she was supposed to say, but she didn’t want to say it.

The Sheriff looked at her sternly.

“I masturbated while thinking about sucking your cock, daddy,” said Tayla quietly.

Her father blushed.

“You don’t need to be embarrassed,” said the Sheriff. “You’ll find in Modwina it’s quite normal for a father to take an interest in his daughter’s sexual education, instruction and discipline.”

“I don’t really know…” said Tayla’s father.

“Look, why don’t we demonstrate,” said the Sheriff. “Bessie, would you offer this man your tits?”

Bessie immediately went to stand in front of Tayla’s father, and wiggled her huge tits in his face.

“Now, what I want you to do, Mr Torrens, is grab one of Bessie’s fuckbags, and pull on it hard, until she falls over,” said the Sheriff.

Tayla’s father gaped.

“It’s quite educational,” said the Sheriff. “You won’t get in trouble. I’m the Sheriff here, after all, and I’m telling you to do it.”

Tayla’s father still hesitated.

“Or I suppose we could contact your wife,” said the Sheriff, “and ask her if she’s aware of your daughter’s situation, and that you have received nude photos of your daughter, and expressed an in interest in raping her.”

He laughed as Tayla’s father’s face went white.

“It’s okay, we don’t want to do that,” he said. “We’re all friends here. But you have some natural reluctance to treat women as they deserve, and we need to overcome that. So give Bessie’s fuckmelons a good tug, and make her fall down.”

Hesitantly, Tayla’s father reached out with his right hand, and took a grip of the base of Bessie’s large right breast. Bessie gasped as he tightened his grip – and then squeaked as he pulled on it, hard. She took a couple of tottering steps forward on her high heels, pulled by her tit.

“Harder,” said the Sheriff.

Tayla’s father pulled harder, walking backwards as he yanked on Bessie’s breast. Tayla thought it must have been very painful for Bessie. And, sure enough, after a couple of steps, Bessie lost her balance and fell to the floor. Tayla’s father let go of her breast as she fell.

“Good,” said the Sheriff. “Now kick her in the tits, and then in the cunt, and call her a dumb bitch.”

Tayla’s father looked down at Bessie – then he drew back his foot and kicked her in her large tits. He then moved around and kicked her between her legs, the toe of his shoe striking her twat.

“You’re a dumb bitch,” he said, a little uncertainly.

“Doesn’t that feel good?” asked the Sheriff. “And you need to understand that, in Modwina, you can do that to Bessie, any time you like. You can do anything you want to her, as long as it doesn’t leave her permanently damaged. Why don’t you kick her tits again, for fun?”

Tayla’s father did. He seemed to enjoy it.

“And here’s the thing,” said Sheriff. “You can do that to your daughter as well. In fact, I encourage you to do so. It will be good for her. Look at her. Look at her cunt, and her pregnant belly, and her leaking tits. Tell me, does she look like a person – or a fucktoy?”

Tayla’s father looked at her. His gaze roamed over her body.

“She looks like a fucktoy,” he said finally, and Tayla felt herself shake with despair and humiliation.

“Now, you’ve got a choice,” said the Sheriff. “Either you can go home, and leave Snowball here, and forget that you saw her, and tell everyone that she ran away from home and you don’t know where she is. Or you can go over to your daughter, and slap her face, and tell her that you want to rape her – and then we can see where we go from here.”

To his credit, Tayla’s father thought about it for a long time – nearly a minute. She could see guilt and lust and fear and desire moving over his face.

And then, slowly, he came over to Tayla, and stared at her tits and her cunt and her belly.

And then he slapped her across the face.

“I’d like to rape you, Snowball,” he said.

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