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The car rolled down the hill towards the
town, Megan desperately hoping the
streets would be empty, and no signals
would stop them. The grove rape had beem
bad enough, a public disgrace was
unthinkable. Especially when tied like a
toy hanging from rear of a car.
Her
hopes were soon belied. As the road
joined the main highway into town, megan
saw cars and bikes behind. Eventually a
biker saw her, and stared. He pointed to
his buddy, and burst out laughing.
Normally, no one dared laugh at her. Now
she just cried as they drove closer for a
better view. They were now just behind
the car, close enough to squeeze her
exposed titties. And he did just that,
holding on to them as the two vehicles
almost collided. The pulling away was
especially painful, the guy holding on to
her mammary till it was almost ripping.
But the real pain for megan was the Guy's
expression. No concern, not even shock,
just glee and lust. The guy even spit at
her as he left. As the spit trailed down
her nose, she realized that she had gone
out a free woman, she was returning a
slut whore.
Megan had hoped to be driven
to either of their places or somewhere
obscure. After all, didn't they too have
some shame, dragging a helpless woman
around?
As it turned out, they drove
right to her place. Megan knew the "good"
parts like the back of her tied hand.
Terrified at her father finding out, she
began to squirm, but to no avail.
Strangely, no one was around. At the
community hall, she figured.
Her respite
didn't last long, she being untied and
dragged to the door. It being already
dark, she hoped nobody saw her degraded
condition. Again, they didn't ring the
bell. Instead, they put her on a dog
leash and tied her to the post beside the
door. Then they rang the bell, and
immediately drove off.
Megan's heart
was,hammering as,she saw a shadow
approach under the door. What would her
folks say? Hadn't she been their epitome
of morality, more holy than the saint's
statues? Wasn't her word the rule of the
house on all matters sexual? And hadn't
she reprimanded her brother a zillion
times for watching bikini babes? What
would they think? She shuddered as her
knees grew weak from the kneeling on the
welcome mat.
Her brother John, infact,
was the only one in the house. His prude
sister being late, he was going through a
porn mag that he had successfully saved
from the SS onslaught. Hearing the bell,
he quickly shelved the other plans, hid
the mag, and headed to the door.
John
stood at 6'4, and was used to looking
down on his bitch sister. But he saw
noone when he stared out. He was,about to
close the door, when his peripheral
vision caught a wisp of brown hair. He
looked down.
Megan could not bear to see
her brother stare at her, at her slutty
clothes, at her exposed mams. She
couldn't bear to look up at him. For
once, the expression of shock and
surprise she expected was painted on his
face, as he beheld his sister on the mat.
On her face was scribbled, "GIFT FROM THE
GANG. ENJOY"
John quickly took her in,
lest some prying eyes find them. Once the
door closed, megan relaxed a little.
They were inside now, just her and her
brother. He could be handled, like she
had done the past 14years.
She was
wrong. The shocked look changed to one of
curiosity not concern, and Megan's
quickly prepared explanation became
superfluous as he made no effort to ungag
her. Instead, he ran a finger down her
face, noting the dried cum on it.
John
had first been shocked. To think of miss
feminist kneeling half naked was
impossible. But it was true. As he
touched her face to ensure he wasn't
dreaming, he noted the cum. Soiled, but
still fresh, he thought. His first
instinct was to untie her and make things
"normal", but new, and strange thoughts
flooded his mind as he beheld his nude
sister.
Hadn't she made him apologize
for kissing a girl behind canteen? And
didn't she spread the rumour that he was
a,moron? Wasn't she the reason his
college gang had to stay away from the
girls' dorms? Bitch!
Megan saw his
expression change. He was becoming
agitated, but why? She liked to think
she was the reason, her assault making
him angry. She was the reason, as she
found out when he abruptly slapped her
teary face.
The first slap had been
instinctive, the next four vengeful, the
last ten sadistic. Her face looked so
much better, the red cheeks looking like
overdose of blusher. He suddenly grabbed
her hair, and dragged her with it up the
stairs to her room.
It was locked, so
she was made to unlock it, John keeping a
stranglehold om her neck. She was then
pushed roughly into her spick and span
room, landing on her bitch brigade
bag.
As the pain subsided, megan
realized what had just happened. Her
brother, instead of freeing her, had
dragged her by her hair. Her hair! Which
was out of bounds even for girls. She
knew 18th century women were often
dragged by their hair, but her. President
of Women's Society? She wanted to drown
in her cum drenched tears.
John used
this time to note how sexy her ass was.
Forever encased in loose skirts, they now
stuck out in full glory at his feet. He
did the logical thing, landing five kicks
on her backside. He wanted to kick her
out of her senses. To break every bone
for the hell she had made for him. But as
they say, women have better uses.
Megan,,desperate to escape the thrashes,
tried to crawl to the bed, hoping to get
up, even if her hands were tied. This
had the effect of knocking her bag over,
spilling her bitch brigade batch and
sash. John's mind changed track again.
Pushing megan aside, he grabbed the
objects, and inspected them. Grabbing
megan again, he pushed her onto the bed.
Climbing onto her, he sat on her
abdomen, thus making movement impossible.
Taking the badge, he carefully took the
pin near her nipple. It was hard from
fear. He looked at megan, saw the fear
and desperation as she realized her
predicament, and went for it. The nipple
resisted a bit, but as megan began
thrashing on the bed, it went through,
emerging on the other side,,her soft nub
impaled on steel. He now attached the
pin, affixing the badge to her exposed
titty.
Megan knew what was going on,
only she didn't know it was her most
precious possession now hanging from her
tit like a xmas star. She was soon
dragged in front of her queen size
mirror, her nipple aching like hot iron
pushed through her chest.
The sight
brought fresh tears. There she stood, her
talisman atrached to her breast,
obscenely advertising her utter
helplessness. She'd not even allow fellow
bitches to use it, today it was being
used on her, like Jewellery. Worse, her
brother stood behind her, crowning her
with the cap. To her it waz crowning
shame, a reversal of her revered status
as head of bitch brigade. Megan broke
into fresh tears.
For once, brother and
sister thought alike. Only John was
cherishing the feeling, loving every tear
that paid for his years of denial. He
clicked a few pics, taking care to make
Megan pose, which she strangely complied
with, doll like.He pulled the badge
slightly, making megan yowl in pain as
her tit stretched. CLICK! He pusjed both
of her hands under her boobs, raising
them. CLICK! He made her stand like the
day she took the oath for bitch headship.
CLICK! worse, she was made to say the
same lines as her brother filmed her. She
collapsed on the floor crying. Wishing it
would end, or she'd die.
She looked up
to find her brother's detested dick
dancing before her, free of it's bonds
and rearing to claim it's natal opposite.
Megan shook her head. I'm her scheme,
rape was to be avoided in practice, but
incest in principle. A family sexual act
was worse than holocaust, she had told
the local Jewish seminary. Her holocaust
was just beginning.
With the ease with
which men had started using her since the
evening, John forced Megan's mouth open
by pulling on her hair. Her mind
compared it to opening a bin by stepping
on the lower pedal. Again, she felt a
man's member push in. John wasn't a huge
guy, something she often told girls not
willing to buy her chastity crap. As his
dick began intruding her throat, she knew
she was dead wrong.
Like deja vu,
thoughts of the life that was were
replaced by attempts to survive another
rape session. John loved the way his
darker hair mingled with his sister's
mane, and he decided to deep throat his
sis. Megan soon found herself choking on
his cock, and was forced to try and
breathe through her nose, taking in the
aroma of dickhair as the price for
oxygen. Her face was being bruised by
coarse hair as her pulmonary plight
worsened.
Then, to her surprise and
relief, he pulled out, until only the tip
remained between her lips. CLICK! Megan
was made to look up, like a slut in a
porno mag she'd confiscated from her
brother. CLICK! Slut, she'd called the
pornstar, now that silicone blonde seemed
better off, atleast she retained her free
will. Megan was infinitely worse, her
mind told her, being raped by her
brother. A sin, no less!
As if to
atone, her brother pulled out for a whole
minute as he listened carefully. He then
shoved it back and pushed in and out so
fast as to make her dizzy. The hold on
her hair was painful, the abrasions on
her mouth more agonizing by the minute.
When the world had finally gone fuzzy
with a headache, Megan felt him squirt
seed in her facial fuckhole. It was
salty, warm and to her mind, no less
than poison. John coolly made her
swallow, and lick up his sticky flaccid
dick. Once done, he ran downstairs,
locking her in.
John had heard his
parents return, and knew he had to come
fast. He'd done that. Basking in the
afterglow, he opened the door, taking his
mother's groceries to the table. Once
he'd answered the usual questions, he
told them that Megan was in her room
changing. He now excused himself,
deciding to complete his plans before
dinner.
He found megan was sitting as
he'd left her, drooly cum dripping along
her chin. For a momwnt he thought his
rapid strokes had wrecked her mind, but a
pathetic look assured him she was very
much alive to her progressive
degradation. Stage 2 began.
Megan was
made to spread her firm and popular legs
for her brother. He found a veritable
mess, ut had already been used. Never
mind, cunt was a long lasting resource. A
summary cleanup later, John was pushing
his 10" dick into the well abused hole of
his prude sis. He was surprised how tight
she was, enveloping him involuntarily in
her warmth. What treasures she had, and
so selfish about them too. She deserved
to pay.
His drool lubricated sperm rod
soon hit her cervix, the gate to her
womb. More pictures followed. He grabbed
the badge, and used is as a handle to
push in and out of a once proud woman,
now a helpless hole. Megan by now knew
the routine, her womanly instincts
lubricating her for fertilization, for
making babies. She was back in an age
when babies justified a woman's
existence, her whold life was geared to
raising healthy children. It seemed women
had only changed outside, their bodies
still yearned to be fucked as much , to
be seeded as much, to be used as much by
the stronger sex, as they liked. Women's
lib seemed a distant chimera to a cunt
violated by her own brother
Worse, her
mind was falling in it's spell. Rape was
an ordeal, incest a sin, she should be
hurting and crying. Instead, her body
began ro rock in rythm, her breathing
became rapid, and she felt a surge of
blood to her private parts. Each thrust
made her yearn for more, more of her
lover, no matter who he was. Suddenly,
she could hold it no more. A warm
sensation passed through her body, as her
mind blanked to enjoy the novel feeling
coming from her groin. She moaned in
pleasure, gripping her vaginal intruder
tightly as she came.
"Dirty slut. You
came for your own brother. Jeez, what a
nympho"
As if she cared. She was slowly
returning to normal, no longer minding
the pounding of her hole. She
unconsciously reached up, grabbed him in
a tight embrace as they made love. The
feel of her hitherto hidden assets, and
the knowledge that she had cum for him,
took him over the edge. He poured his
seed into his sister's slit. She was his,
claimed and conquered.
If megan thought
her lovemaking would last, she was wrong.
She had begun to realize that her
assailants' interests always came before
hers, and her survival in fuckable shape
was the only limits to their perverse
fantasies. She was confirmed in her
belief when John made her put on two
nipple clamps under the tight sweater he
chose for her. They stuck out obscenely,
andcher mind was torn between pain and
humiliation. An equally high pair of
shorts complemented her top, and he cut
out the crotch, giving enough wind to her
cunt to make her shiver. Worse, she was
still dripping cum, and kept her legs
closed lest any should fall down.
They
quickly exited the house, she being made
to give an alibi of a,walk. It was dark,
and she hoped nobody would notice the
bumps on her chest. She was again
disappointed.
She met her classmate at
the turning, and he tried to get away
seeing her unhappy look. He had recently
been made to apologize publicly for
grabbing a feel of his gf in a girl's
toilet. But John called him back.
Emboldened by the confidence of a fellow
victim, he came back. He was still
scared, and John made his move.
The guy
not having seen the clamps (improvised
cloth clips), he casually, reached out
and squeezed a boob, commenting how heavy
it was. Megan kept her hands to her side,
as his hand stayed wrapped on her tit.
John now raised her sweater to reveal her
suffering sack of meat.
The guy, called
Ron, could hardly believe it. The bitch
was being used. Even a cheerleader
wouldnt agree to such a streetside
squeeze. Which meant she was drugged or
he was dreaming. Well, they said if you
aren't sure if you're dreaming, pinch.
He did, on her tit. Soon, her other jug
was out and the two merrily abused the
humiliated girl.
Megan saw the two
hands sticking from her chest, two sets
of leering eyes, two dicks getting hard.
A normal girl would have gotten used to,
and not bothered to know the deatails of
the new assailant. But her bitchified
brain refused, reminding her that Ron was
on the brigade blacklist, that he
regularly "misbehaved" with girls, that
she was next on his line of fresh
cunt.
She was pushed to her knees, and
Ron entered her. The routine began,
except that cars passing could see her
abuse. From the corner of her eye, she
saw a carload of teens pass. They were
almost gone, when one of them saw her
through the marijuana haze. Soon, hoots
and jeers were coming from the gang. One
threw an empty beer can at her, which hit
her head, increasing the pain. Eventually
they picked up the courage to come
nearer.
One of them reached down and
attached a leash to her neck. Her brother
said nothing just clicked away. Another
took out a drug needle and pushed it into
her tit, followed by more. To make
matters worse, Eon came, squirting his
stuff over her sweater and tits.
The
boys now formed a line, and Megan was
soon feeling utterly exhausted from being
headbanged on a dick. It looked bizarre
as a line of dicks approached her like
cans to a canning machine. Worse for her
, the guys stuck pins in her boobs,
turning her already pinstuffed boobs into
veritable pincushions. Jizz was soon
dripping down her face, turning her
sweater into a cum-absorber. She'd
counted 5 but the total was about 10.
What she didn't know was that the beat
police had joined in, in exchange for
"license" to use public property for sex.
She found out only when a potbelly
replaced a skinny frame, and a huge dick
pushed in, making her gag inspite of her
recent experience. He was also brutal,
ramming his dick deep inside and holding
it there till her lungs almost gave in.
When he came, the semen covered her face,
shutting her eyes and stuffing her nose.
She guessed this was how a trash whore
looked like.
Some cum was washed away by
the tears which flowed again.
Once they
left, and she and her brother were alone
again, she was made to take a round of
the entire neighborhood. Luckily it was
"earth hour" and lights were out.
But
they soon saw Trish, arch enemy of the
bitch brigade and head cheerleader,
coming towards them. She too had a look
of total disbelief when she saw her enemy
walking so shamelessly. But she needed no
encouragement. She grabbed the sticky pin
covered tits, and slowly and painfully
pulled out the pins. Once done, she went
into her house, and returned with real
nipple clamps, a thong and a torch.
The
clamps were soon in place, and Trish
added weights for good measure. The
shorts were removed, and the thong was
put in place. Trish reached down, and
Megan felt the torch being stuffed in
her, held in place by the thong. It was
obly when she was pushed on all fours did
logic dawn. The torch shone from her
pussy, as trish sat down on her back,
pressed her hells into Megan s kidneys
and grabbed her hair in one hand, leash
in the other.
So arrayed, megan began to
crawl, as Trish bounced on her back,
pulling the hair and occassionally
squeezing a tit. She stuck two fingers in
her mouth, and then sucked on them,
saying "bitch flavour. Yum!"
Megan
wanted to die. Here was her arch rival,
sitting like a horaerider, abusing her at
will! She had taken every chance she got
to denounce the cheerleaders' skimpy
clothes, obscene dances, and loose
"morality ". Now if anyone saw her, a
slave, worse a mule to her mistress, ehat
would they say? How could she face the
bitch brigade again, when she was beimg
used in ways even prostitutes weren't.
She felt worthless, a piece of meat to be
used wherever, whenever and anyhow, by
whosoever wanted a fuck, or had been
snubbed by her.
As she lugged the
biggest female victim of her prudishness
on her back, the biggest male victim
walking along clicking pictures, she
regretted, for the first of many times,
being a bitch when she still had a chance
.......
[To be continued ]
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