Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You would think that after everything Michelle has been through, after all of the terrors and horrors life has thrown her way recently, that there would be no tears left in her anymore. After all, she’s lost all hope, any chance of ever being able to escape this wretched life except with one final defiant escape of taking her own life— what is there for her to cry about?

But Michelle is a teenage girl, in spite of everything else that she is now— a rape slut, a cock whore for a psychopath, her mother’s new plaything…

And teenage girls aren’t exactly known for being the best when it comes to being in control of their emotions.

It’s a dream that tips her over, in the end. The one place she can’t hide from her own thoughts, it seems, is in the middle of the night when her mind has full control.

The dream is a mundane one. The kind of dream that, if she were back at home still living her normal life, would leave her waking up and feeling disoriented because it’s hard to tell the dream from reality, until she has time to wake up and think about all of the little things that happened that were off-putting or strange.

It’s just about her going to school, with all of the usual dream oddities— friends that she hasn’t seen since kindergarten suddenly being her high school classmates and no one thinking there’s anything out of place about that, her class schedule being all wrong and the classes all sounding like absolute gibberish, and this thought in the back of her mind that wait a second— isn’t it supposed to be summer vacation right now?

If her life hadn’t taken such a drastic and terrifying turn in recent days, she would wake up and be happy to discover that it is summer vacation and that test she had been worried about (which had been a math test which for some reason was taking place in the home ec room) wasn’t real and that she had a few months before she had to worry about anything school related again.

Instead she wakes up to the reality that she’s a prisoner on an island, held against her will and forced to do horrific sex acts on the woman holding her there, her own mother, and all kinds of animals.

Michelle has started to come to terms with the reality of her situation, though it mostly leaves her feeling cold and numb, like the entire world has just stopped in place and she’s frozen along with it, leaving her watching what her body is being made to do from the outside looking in. Two days on the island so far have made her understand just how bad things are, and although she still keeps looking to the ocean and contemplating throwing herself in, the last thing she wants is to allow Rachel the satisfaction of having driven her to such lengths— not to mention the fact that she’s still holding on to some slim sense of hope, the thought that maybe Rachel will let her guard down and she’ll be able to get away or something like that.

The idea of dying is scary. Even scarier than the reality that she’s dancing right now. Probably because at least she knows what the pain and emotional torment she’s going through right now is something she knows.

When her eyes snap open and the realization of where she is and what’s happening to her comes flooding into her, chasing away the thoughts of her dreams where she was living a normal life once again, the stark difference between the two leaves her unable to breathe for a moment. The darkness of the room does nothing to hide from her the reality that she’s in; not only can she not even pretend that she’s back home in her own bedroom like she would expect to be, but there’s a warm body pressed against her side that makes it even more obvious.

She expects there to be too bodies, but as her eyes adjust to the darkness— still pretty blurry considering she’s not wearing her glasses, but enough to at least be able to make out vague shapes— she can tell Rachel isn’t in the bed. Maybe she’s gotten up for a drink of water or to use the bathroom; the three of them had fallen into bed together after yet another exhausting round of three-way fucking, and between that and tending to the animals earlier in the day as was Michelle’s chore from now on, she feels so sore and tender down below that she doesn’t think she can even fully register what pain is anymore.

Michelle feels tears spring to her eyes. She doesn’t like to cry about her situation, even though she tends to do it a lot. Mostly it’s because she knows that crying isn’t going to do anything to help her and will only let Rachel have the satisfaction of knowing just how far she’s pushed her, but she’s only human; as long as some part of her brain still works, the despair that she feels over her situation is going to boil over sometimes.

She does try to stop herself from crying, reminding her sleep-fogged brain that it’s only going to do more harm than good, but as soon as the tears start she knows that there’s no way they’re going to stop.

Knowing that her mother is next to her, all cuddled up beside her— a mockery of maternal affection considering how many times she’s helped Rachel to rape her in only two short days, between the livestream, the suspended threesome, and what the two of them did when Rachel had her mother drag her back in from the animal pen (most of which Michelle doesn’t remember because she was mostly unconscious by that point and could really only lie back and let the two of them do whatever they wanted to her)...

Because she doesn’t want to wake her (both as a lingering memory of what it feels like to actually love one’s mother, and because she doesn’t want her to alert Rachel), she tries to keep the crying quiet, tears just streaming down her cheeks. It doesn’t work as well as she was hoping. She feels her throat starting to close around a choked sob, and she tries to keep that quiet, but it comes out almost like a bark— like she’s turning into one of the animals she’s being made to fuck on a regular basis.

That choked sob is followed quickly by more sobs, and her breathing becomes harsh and raspy as she starts to hyperventilate. It’s as though all of the weight of her situation is pressing down on her all at once, everything that she’s tried to shove to the back of her mind now let loose by the realization that the world she saw in her dream is never going to be her reality again.

Not just the feeling she’s been pushing aside since she was brought to the island— though there have been many of those, even in the course of only two days— but everything she’s been trying to shove aside since the day she met Rachel and the course of her life changed forever, entirely for the worse. All of the cooped up thoughts and feelings that she’s had in that time come spilling out in the form of tears and sobs, in a way that she hasn’t cried since she was a little girl and her mother scolded her for ‘making a scene’ on the playground after falling off the swing and scaring herself.

Her vision is even further blurred by the fact that her eyes are full of tears, but she can feel her mother stirring next to her, so when a shape appears above her in her very blurry vision she knows what it is. Even so, she can’t stop herself.

“Michelle, baby… What’s wrong?” her mother coos at her, sounding genuinely confused, making it even more obvious to Michelle that she’s completely lost her mind because any sane person would see exactly what was wrong. “Did you have a bad dream?”

“I… I…” Michelle doesn’t know what she’s trying to say, whether she’s trying to berate her mother for being terrible and obtuse or whether she’s trying to tell her what her dream was actually about, but it doesn’t matter anyway. She can’t get any words out with the way her throat is trying to close around the sobs that she’s letting out.

“Oh, sweetheart…”

Her mother has nerve been a super affectionate person. She had always been a problem solver, even if she had never really known how to solve anyone’s problems, especially not her own. Any time Michelle had been upset about anything, her mother had grilled her about what she had done to try to fix the problem before just deciding to cry about it— a very rich thing to hear from a woman who would sob over a bottle of wine when anything in her life started to go wrong.

So to have her mother wrap her arms around her and pull her towards her chest as she sobs to herself, without even demanding she tells her what’s wrong, feels completely foreign to her— and even though her mother is naked and she’s pressing her daughter’s head into her bare breasts, it catches Michelle so off guard that she forgets for a moment that her mother is one of the people hurting her and she leans into the embrace as she sobs.

Her mother coos at her and puts her hand on the back of her head, stroke her hair, and Michelle is suddenly transported back to being a little girl but in some alternate reality where her mother was like the good mothers you would see on TV who cared about their kids, and not like the wicked stepmothers who would lock them up in a tower or something.

Until her tears start to die down, her sobs turning into a slight shaking of the shoulders and a few little hiccups, and her mother pulls her away from her chest.

Lynn plants her hands on Michelle’s shoulders. Michelle looks at her mother with teary eyes, and has to resist the urge to ask if the two of them can just go home, knowing full well that her mother is fully indoctrinated by Rachel and would never say yes to something like that, if the two of them were even able to escape.

Her mother leans in to kiss her. On its own, with nothing else going on around it, a mother kissing her daughter wouldn’t be that strange, but of course this isn’t just a chaste peck on the lips.

Heedless of the fact that her mother is naked, which would already make it strange enough, there’s the situation that is surrounding the two of them— the kiss that she presses to Michelle’s lips is anything but chaste.

Michelle makes a startled noise against her mother’s lips as Lynn kisses her, her tongue running across her lips as though asking for entry.

Nothing should surprise her at this point, and yet she can’t help but tense up. She’s still only half awake, and her emotional wash-over from the dream and from being cuddled in her mother’s arms has her brain and her heart momentarily forgetting just how awful her situation is— so it’s like a second punch just below the ribs, after the dream had already shattered and she had remembered the terror she was caught up in.

But her mother doesn’t seem to care about that. She slips her tongue inside of Michelle’s resistant mouth and kisses her deeply and passionately, the way she probably kisses Rachel— not that Michelle wants to think about what her mother and Rachel do, considering she’s already seen enough of it firsthand to last a lifetime.

Her mother’s other hand moves to cup one of her breasts. The touch makes her flinch away, not just emotionally, but physically. Her body is exhausted from how much horror she’s been put through the past few days, and all of her erogenous zones are so sensitive she can barely stand to think about them, never mind letting them be touched. That doesn’t discourage her mother, either; she just runs her tongue along the inside of Michelle’s teeth as she squeezes her breast in one hand, kneading it with expertise she doesn’t want to know how her mother possesses.

Michelle feels her head starting to spin a little. The combination of the darkness, blurred vision, the violent sobbing, and the confusion of the situation, all mixed up with the deep kissing that seemed to steal her breath away, makes her feel as dizzy as if she were suffering from a fever— but it’s that dizziness that lets her mother lay her back down as she sits up, licking her lips.

“Here— I know what will take your mind off of it,” she says, in spite of the fact that Michelle hasn’t even told her what’s bothering her, as though she has some kind of mystery cure all that she’s been hiding from her.

Of course, considering what has happened so far, she has a feeling that anything her mother does to try to ‘make things better’ is only going to actually make them worse. She can’t say as much, though; her mother is too fully caught up in Rachel’s lies and brainwashing to be able to do anything but make things worse, and if she gets Rachel herself involved, it’s only going to be even more terrible for her.

So she just gets to lie there and try to piece what her mother is doing as she climbs out of bed in spite of the darkness and blurry vision, and it’s only when she hears a bit of shuffling around in the dark and the clink of metal that she starts to feel something in her guts that tells her to be afraid.

A light is flipped on after her mother lets out a few baby curse words, like she can’t see what she’s doing in the darkness, and Michelle feels her blood run cold when she sees what her mother has been fumbling with this entire time.

The black harness that she’s wearing slung around her hips and which she’s trying to fasten the silver buckles of is simple, and does absolutely nothing to distract her from the dildo hanging from it, which is an unnaturally bright blue that almost seems to glow and has the kind of ridges and bumps that no natural penis— human or animal— has in this world.

It’s not the biggest one she’s taken— both the one Rachel used to train her to be able to take the horses and the horse cocks themselves would be the winners of that contest— but it’s big enough to make her do a double take and to squeeze her legs together, even though it hurts.

“Let mommy make you feel better,” her mother coos as she finally manages to get the harness strapped around her hips and makes her way back to the bed, the strap-on dildo bouncing comically in front of her, although Michelle naturally can’t find anything funny about the situation.

“N-no, please—” she whines in the back of her throat, trying to push herself up the bed as her mother crawls back into it, although she’s so sore and exhausted that it’s hard for her to get anywhere. “I’m still tired, mom, please can’t I just go back to sleep?”

“If you do that, you’ll just end up having more bad dreams,” her mother says, sounding surprised and almost scandalized that her daughter would ever think of such a thing, or maybe shocked that she doesn’t seem to understand her twisted logic. “I’ll make sure to tired you out just the right amount so you can get a good night’s sleep— and make you feel good enough to chase away all of those naughty bad dreams.”

Exhausting her might work, although she’s so exhausted already that she can’t even begin to imagine how her mother armed with a ludicrous looking dildo is going to be able to do what two days of torture hasn’t already, and she knows that having her own mother fuck her until she cums on her fake cock is only going to make her emotional distress worse.

But her mother doesn’t seem to realize that. Of course she doesn’t. Why would she?

To her mother, this weird sex dungeon is like a paradise. She doesn’t need to worry about keeping her job or dealing with clients and coworkers who hate her or having the most disastrous love life a person can have outside of soap operas. She has a person who has promised to take care of her, who has infinite money it seems like, and she gets to live on an island paradise.

And all it has cost her is her daughter. Michelle feels like, to her mother, that kind of trade would have been a no-brainer. She’s been treating her like she’s disposable for most of her life anyway, mostly good for what she can prove she’s able to do and totally able to be ignored when her own woes and problems have become more important.

Why did Michelle ever think that Lynn was going to help her when it came to Rachel, anyway? At most she should have expected her mother to just tell her to ignore it and sweep it under the rug. Maybe if she had kept her mouth shut, none of this would have happened in the first place and she wouldn’t be stuck on this island— she would just have to keep enduring Rachel raping her over and over again until she could finally escape from home and go reinvent herself somewhere else, somewhere it wouldn’t matter if her nudes and sex tapes that were taken under extreme duress got leaked because no one would know who she was.

Or maybe it doesn’t matter and this would have happened to her no matter what. It’s impossible to say, but it’s hard not to blame herself when she’s doing nothing more than sniffling and lying stiff as a board as her mother grabs her legs and pries them apart, getting herself nice and comfortable between them as she rests her strap on across Michelle’s pussy.

If there wasn’t some part of her that secretly wanted this, she would fight harder. It doesn’t matter that she’s too exhausted to even be able to think straight, never mind put up a resistance. This is her fault; if she had spoken up and been unafraid of the consequences when Rachel tried to drag her off a train, then she wouldn’t be suffering the way she is now.

She wouldn’t have her mother situated between her legs, pressing the head of a neon blue dildo against her cunt without any kind of lubrication except for what’s dripping from between her legs (which she would like to say is just the leftovers from when Rachel and her mother had fucked her in this very same bed while she was half-asleep the entire time, not to mention her even earlier adventures with the animals, but is probably a little bit because of the intense making out the two of them had been doing just a few moments ago), cooing at her softly as she says,

“Just leave everything to mommy…”

And she really has no choice but to do that because then her mother is pressing the dildo inside of her and Michelle is trying not to bite down so hard on her tongue that she bites through it at the intrusion.

She knows that the situation is making it feel worse than it is, because her mother isn’t rough the way Michelle is, or bestial like the animals are. The dildo is big and oddly shaped, but not as absurd as what she’s taken so far. But the fact that her own mother is brushing her hair out of her eyes and telling her that it’s all going to be alright as she does it is what makes it so painful, even if the physical pain is nothing compared to what has been done to her so far.

“I know Rachel can be a little rough with you,” her mother says, in the Caring Parent tone of voice, as though the two of them are simply talking about her grades or about whether she has a crush on a boy at school instead of her mother jamming a silicone cock into her pussy inch by gruelling inch. “But she really does care about you, you know. It would be so much easier for both of you if you could just see that.”

The sob that rips out of her throat is entirely unlike the sobs of despair from earlier. This one is more primal, more instinctive, and although she can’t really fight back (or maybe chooses not to, she still has no idea), she does start to squirm under her mother as the dildo sinks in deeper until the leather straps of her mother’s harness are pressed against her skin.

“Naughty girl,” her mother says as she leans in. “Not to worry. Rachel said you’d need some time to get used to things and that I should be patient with you, so I won’t punish you.”

If this is supposed to be the opposite of punishment, Michelle doesn’t even want to know what her mother would do if she were trying to punish her. Would it be something that she would hate less, since her mother seems to think the situation they’re in is fine and good, or would it be even more painful and humiliating?

All she can do as those thoughts refuse to leave, even though she knows thinking that way is only going to do more harm than good, is just cry softly to herself.

If she had to pick the worst part out of the entire situation— all of it is bad, of course, but the absolute worst— it’s the fact that what her mother is doing feels good, in spite of the pain she’s in.

Sure, her body is exhausted and ready to collapse completely, her pussy is sore and swollen from all of the abuse that she’s been through, and a sharp pang goes through her every time her mother thrusts the big dildo into her— but it’s not like when Rachel is raping her.

Lynn gets nothing out of this transaction except self-satisfaction of being a ‘good mom’, and so as she pulls the dildo out and thrusts back in, she does it in a way that makes Michelle feel good. Not just incidentally from the size of it, but with intent, the thrusts not being so rough that they make her want to scream and cry and not being so fast that she loses her breath in the process. Slow, shallow little movements allow her to feel every bump and ridge of the dildo as it moves inside of her, rubbing up against all of the most sensitive parts of her.

Her body doesn’t want to get aroused, not because of her fragile mental state but because she’s been fucked so roughly and so thoroughly over the past two days after having been given such a long break while her mother and Rachel schemed together to get her here in the first place… But it does anyway, her swollen clit aching as it’s brushed against while her mother fucks her slowly.

Michelle can’t stop herself crying, and Lynn makes gentle shushing noises as she does.

“There, there. Let it all out baby. I know moving to a new place can be scary, but this is going to be good for us. You’ll see soon enough.”

Maybe her mother is right. Maybe this really is good for them. Not because any of this is good, but really— what hope would Michelle have for a normal life after everything she’s been through?

If her mother is so fragile that she would crumble just from Michelle’s promises and her own psyche is held together with duct tape after being used and abused for so long, in what world would she have ever been able to live a normal life? Even if she had never met Rachel, with how many people seemed to feel entitled to her body— all of the boys at school, the dirty men who would stare at her when she walked by, eve some of her teachers— surely someone would have decided to take advantage of her sooner or later and ruined her life.

Maybe not in so many creative ways, but maybe that would have been even more dangerous. She probably would have ended up getting married young to someone who would beat her, knowing just how much of a pushover she can be and how much she doesn’t want to make waves.

She would probably end up dead.

All she can really ask herself is whether that would have been better or worse than the face she’s facing now instead.

She doesn’t have a good answer to that question.

Her mother’s lips meet hers again. The kiss is anything but chaste, with slopping, wet sounds being exchanged between them as she kisses her, but it’s a little more restrained. Maybe that’s because she’s so focused on fucking her right that she can’t also focus on trying to shove her tongue down her throat, or maybe she just wants to give her a bit of a break.

Of course, a better break would involve her not being on top of her and actually letting her sleep, but after everything she’s been through?

Michelle knows better than to ask for miracles.

When her mother grinds her hips against hers, making sure the neon blue silicone hits all of the most pleasurable spots inside of her with all of its various bumps and twists, Michelle can’t help but moan into her mother’s mouth.

She can feel her mother smile against her lips, even as she kisses her again, and it makes a shudder run down the length of her spine— one that she hopes has more to do with her disgust than her pleasure, but at this stage, she dislikes lying to herself even if it’s one of the few things she can do to preserve her sanity.

Just like before, the heat building up in the pit of her stomach as her mother fucks her gently in their shared bed is more of a gentle simmer than an aggressive boil like it would be with Rachel, where her body would be getting off in spite of Rachel’s actions rather than because of them. Her legs twitch with pleasure, and her mother moves her hands to her thighs, pressing into the fat of them as she starts to lift them and bend them backwards, moving her knees towards her chest.

Being folded in half is nothing new to her, and Michelle can only whine into her mother’s aggressive mouth as she does it. Her body is powerless to resist, and her brain can’t do much more than struggle between enjoying the pleasure and crying over her circumstances.

When her orgasm hits her, it’s not a fist to the stomach like it usually is with Rachel— it’s more like that feeling you get when you’re just about to fall asleep and your body convinces you that you’re in the middle of falling to your death, startling you awake.

It steals all of the breath from her body, but it washes over her like a wave instead of slamming into her like a truck, and as she arches her back into the feeling, her mother makes sure to keep doing exactly what she had been doing— making sure that she’s going to ride out her orgasm to the very end.

The feeling of her mother’s body pressed against hers as they kiss and rock their bodies together, the arching of her back pressing her bountiful breasts against her mothers even with her legs bent back as far as they can be, is so different from the usual torment inflicted on her by Rachel that Michelle’s orgasm drags itself out as long as possible— as though her body is afraid to let her return to the harsh and painful reality she’s living in.

When finally it comes to an end, Michelle feels like she’s been cumming for hours. She pants heavily as she falls back to the bed, body gone entirely limp. Her mother smiles with that same sense of self-satisfaction as she pulls out of her, leaning back to admire her work, watching the way her daughter’s pleasure juice leaks out over the already sweat and filth covered sheets.

She’s going to need to do something about that tomorrow. Rachel might want Michelle to do it— she seems like she wants Michelle to do most of the housework, on top of the other chores she’s given her— but even if she’s a little disappointed that her daughter has been failing to adjust to this wonderful new life Rachel has made for them at her own expense, she knows from Rachel’s own words that it will take some time before she’s ready to accept their new lifestyle.

It might be nice to give her just a little bit less to do, to help her see that not everything is as bad as she thinks it is— and that everything is, in fact, a wonderful new start for the two of them.

Lynn can’t tell if Michelle is conscious or not. Her eyes are open, but they’re glassy as she lays there panting, sweat covering her body. A bath is in order for her daughter as well as the sheets. Rachel will probably want to handle that herself; she likes helping Michelle wash up, and Lynn thinks it gives them some good and necessary bonding time, even if she finds herself getting a bit jealous of how much her lover clearly adores her daughter.

It’s alright, though. With this new, free love based lifestyle, they’re all just one big happy family.

Lynn can finally be at peace.

Chapter Text

Rachel is all too happy to take Lynn’s suggestion and help Michelle get washed up the next morning, while Lynn takes care of the laundry. She likes the musky, sweaty smell of the girl after she’s put her through her paces, but even so, there’s a limit to it— and after everything she and Lynn had done to Michelle, and after Michelle’s chores tending to the animals in her menagerie, she has a bit more than a musk to her.

Michelle is very complacent as Rachel leads her to the bathroom, while Lynn carries the bedsheets downstairs and promises she’ll have breakfast ready for all three of them when Rachel is finished washing her up.

“And I’ll have a very special surprise ready for you,” Lynn purrs right in her ear while Michelle shifts uncomfortably next to her, practically leaning on Rachel as the two stand in the hall outside of their bedroom. Rachel smiles and leans in to give Lynn a kiss, saying that she can’t wait even though whatever Lynn has in store in for her is no doubt not going to be half as fun as the bath time she and Michelle are about to have together.

She has warmed up to Lynn in the time she’s spent with the woman to try and get her on her side, a necessary part of her plan to put all of this into play, but Rachel isn’t going to kid herself about which one of the two is her favourite between mother and daughter.

“Isn’t your mother so caring, Michelle?” The bathroom she steps into is palatial and has everything you could ask for, but the only thing she’s interested in is the massive jacuzzi tub. Normally she would bring Michelle into the shower so she could bend her over and fuck her as they wash, but she has had a harsh few days since coming to the island, and her legs are probably not cooperating.

She’s going to need to be a little more gentle with her than she has been before. That kind of thought is a little frustrating, but when she remembers that they have all the time in the world together now, she calms down.

It’s not like before, when she had to make the most of the limited time they have together. She can afford to give her little breaks here and there to lessen the chance that Michelle is going to end up getting hurt, or being so exhausted that she borders on useless.

“She wanted to make sure you were nice and clean and comfortable. You really should thank her when we’re done here, you know.”

Michelle just whines in her general direction. Rachel has a hard time telling if that’s even supposed to be an answer, or if she’s just so out of it from how tired and worn down she is that she can’t even speak properly.

Rachel doesn’t bother trying to get a real answer out of her and just starts to fill the jacuzzi tub with hot water, the kind of hot that is just barely scalding.

Rachel has learned a few tips and tricks for this sort of situation from when she and Michelle had been staying at her grandfather’s farmhouse for a week. She doesn’t fill up the tub completely, only fills it up about halfway, before coaxing Michelle to get into it. Michelle’s legs are shaking so badly that she’s worried she’ll slip and crack her head open, so Rachel helps her in, ignoring the way she winces at the temperature of the water.

Ungrateful, is what she would call it. She could just as easily hose her down behind the house with ice water, the way you would treat any other animal. But again, she reminds herself to be lenient.

As long as Michelle is being complacent, she’ll have plenty of time to correct her behaviour. For now, as long as she isn’t trying to escape or hurt herself and is still listening to what Rachel tells her to do, she reminds herself that patience is a virtue.

Rachel hikes up her sleeves without undressing, and Michelle looks at her curiously. She knows what to expect from being taken for a bath with Rachel, but Rachel is acting more like she’s getting ready to bathe a dog than ravish her in a bathtub.

Which isn’t far from the truth. She does want to ravish her, of course— but she also wants to get her smelling and looking better than she does right now.

“What are you…?”

“I’m getting you clean, remember?” she says gently, as though Michelle has forgotten what they’re here for, and maybe she has— or maybe she just doesn’t expect Rachel to do what she actually says she’s going to do.

Armed with a loofah and a bottle of body wash, with the hot water helping her along, Rachel starts to scrub at Michelle’s skin. Michelle winces and whines as she does, but Rachel is glad that she decided to do this before actually getting into the bath with her, because she quickly starts to turn the water brown and murky.

Her body is covered in sweat and cum, her own juices along with her mother’s, and whatever she’s covered in because of the animals. Rachel scrubs her until her skin is red and raw, but very much clean, and then drains the tub before filling it up halfway again.

Next is Michelle’s hair, which is an obnoxious tangle. Part of her loves to see the girl like this, turned into a complete mess with nothing resembling humanity— but messing her up again will be just as fun, and besides, she’s going to have to have her looking at least mildly presentable for what she plans on doing later today.

Scrubbing shampoo and conditioner through her hair so hard that it tugs on her roots is probably even more uncomfortable than how hard she was scrubbing her skin, and she hears Michelle let out little hitched noises of pain. As she dumps water over Michelle’s head to watch out the shampoo— scrub it through, dump water over, scrub it out, repeat— and then again with the conditioner, she eventually gets her looking back to something almost like normal.

It’s only been two days since she got here; how is she going to look after a few more days, a week, even a month if Rachel doesn’t tend to her like this (or, more likely, have Lynn do all of the more unpleasant parts)? Probably like the wild animals that she’s being made to tend to the sexual needs of, if she had to guess.

Eventually, she gets her looking somewhat respectable, if very much like a cat that’s just been put through the washing machine. She drains out the once again filthy water, and makes Michelle stand up while she sprays down the tub to get rid of any of the gunk or filth that’s built up on the bottom, and douses her with another bucket of water for the same reason.

Rachel guides Michelle and her shaky legs to sit down on the edge of the tub while she strips down. Now that she’s been cleaned quite thoroughly, she feels comfortable doing what she wants with her; her cock is already hard and ready to go as she drops her pants and kicks them aside along with her shirt.

The tub is plenty big enough for the two of them to fit in it together, and naturally Rachel climbs into the empty tub first, and guides Michelle to sit down in her lap. So as to build things up a little, she has her sit so her cock is wedged between her thighs instead of making her sit on it properly right away; it also means it’s easier for her to lean forward and turn on the hot water to fill it up.

As the hot water fills in the tub around her, Rachel lets out a deep sigh as she leans back. Truly, this is what she was envisioning when she thought of running off to a private island to start a new life of luxury; the relaxation she feels in her body as the hot water makes her muscles start to unwind and release their tension is something that she only could have imagined during her days as a corporate boot licker.

Michelle, who is clearly still sore not only from everything that’s been done to her in the past two days but from anxiety and tension and being scrubbed like a particularly filthy welcome mat, takes a bit longer to relax. Of course, she’s probably still not fully relaxed— Rachel doubts the girl ever feels like she can truly relax around her— but she feels her body start to go loose and noodley on top of her, like she doesn’t have the strength to fight against her body’s urge to relax into the soothing heat of the water any longer.

Rachel reaches around their bodies to cup Michelle’s plentiful breasts in her hands, gently kneading them. She isn’t entirely nice— she gives her nipples a few firm pinches and tugs— but there’s no intent behind her actions, simply playing with Michelle’s tits because she wants to, rather than having any kind of an agenda behind it.

Michelle whines, probably sensitive from the aggressive bath and from her body being put through repeated intense orgasms over the course of several days, but Rachel doesn’t let that stop her. It’s never done so before, why would it pull at her heart strings now?

Her cock twitches between Michelle’s thighs, and Michelle instinctively squeezes them together. Maybe it’s because of that sensitivity she would be feeling down in her core, or maybe it’s just the strange feeling of something moving between her legs. She doesn’t clench around her painfully, but it’s enough to make a nice, tight passage around her cock, and Rachel lets out a small moan.

She’s had no shortage of times and places to get off in the past few days, but the months where she’s been without Michelle or even Lynn have left her feeling very pent-up. It was all worth it, taking the time to make sure everything was perfect before snapping the jaws of the trap and making sure Michelle would have no choice but to stay with her forever (Lynn not being of any consequence, as Rachel is quite certain she has no desire to ever leave, as long as Rachel keeps providing her the kind of stability she needs, letting someone else have complete control over her life)...

But now that she doesn’t have to worry about that anymore, she plans on making up for all of the lost time, even if she has to keep telling herself that she has all the time in the world.

“Sit up a little,” she tells Michelle, and Michelle does so instinctively, too used to listening to her orders to resist in the slightest. Michelle whines as she lifts herself off Rachel’s lap, and Rachel puts one hand on her hip to keep her lifted up while she reaches between them and takes hold of her cock.

Michelle listens to her commands even when she doesn’t say them out loud. Even if her distaste for her has never been clearer, her body broken into the shape she needs her to be in to become her perfect doll— her favourite fuck toy.

Michelle even instinctively moves herself into the best position to be able to take her cock, and Rachel feels proud— proud of Michelle, a little bit, but far more proud of herself, for having trained her so effectively when she had started with virtually nothing except for a girl with big tits and a nice ass that the rest of her development hadn’t really had time to catch up to yet.

Rachel angles her cock just so, and encourages Michelle to sit back down. Michelle whines in the back of her throat at the way she’s suddenly being penetrated, although ‘sudden’ might be exaggerating things a bit; it takes a while for her to sink down on Rachel’s cock, half because Rachel is guiding her slowly and half because she’s hesitating as she does.

It must hurt. Even pleasure turns to pain if you have enough of it, and they’ve given Michelle plenty of pleasure and pain the past few days. It must be agonizing, in fact— and that thought more than anything is what makes Rachel feel something feral awaken deep inside of her as she thrusts her hips up, burying the rest of her cock in Michelle’s body in one go.

Michelle practically screams as she does, and water sloshes out of the tub, making a mess of the floor that they’ll have to clean up when they’re done. When Rachel drops her hips back down, it’s with a loud SPLASH, making an even bigger mess.

“If you want it to hurt less, you’re going to have to set the pace,” she tells her, feeling a little jolt of sadistic satisfaction at the whine Michelle lets out. “Don’t think you can slack off, though; just because you’re tired, doesn’t mean you can get away with not doing your job.”

Michelle whimpers as she shifts, trying to get into a more comfortable position to be able to ride Rachel’s cock rather than sitting directly on it, where her legs will have to strain more. It’s a slow process, especially since as soon as she tries to pull off of Rachel’s cock Rachel puts her hands on her hips and stops her from doing so.

Having to manoeuvre with Rachel’s cock still inside of her makes it that much more difficult, but she still manages to do it— and as she starts to bounce on her, Rachel gives her a bit of leeway with how she fucks herself on her so much slower and more gently than she would if she were the one in control.

The angle is awkward, Michelle is exhausted, and truth be told— she likes watching the way her legs shake and quiver just like her shoulders, one from the physical strain and one from the emotional.

And she’s going to have plenty of time to fuck her over and over again exactly the way she wants.

Maybe it’s worth it to slow things down now and then.

While Michelle bounces awkwardly on her cock, Rachel could be grabbing at her, dragging her nails down her skin to leave horrible looking welts, grabbing at her tits and tugging at her nipples until they’re sore and red. She could be turning Michelle’s body into her own personal stress relief toy— but right now?

She’s not the least bit stressed. There’s no longer that underlying tension she felt when the two of them met, when she needed the escape of Michelle’s supple young body to shed the stress of living such a powerful corporate life.

Now, she can just be herself and enjoy herself, having been rewarded by powers unseen for everything she’s done. She can indulge in Michelle’s body as much as she wants, filling her up over and over again and putting her into any kind of situation she wants— she can have Lynn wait on her hand and foot, looking at her with doe eyes and never complaining about what she makes her do.

Instead of molesting her, Rachel simply leans back, arms resting on the sides of the jacuzzi tub as Michelle rides her. Michelle’s hot, tight cunt— still miraculously feeling just as tight as the day she met her, although she’s gotten softer and it’s easier for her to take Rachel’s cock without any kind of preparation now— feels just as nice as the hot water around her.

Rachel could have only imagined this in her wildest dreams, once upon a time. Now, it’s just her daily life.

Michelle picks up speed before long, making the water slosh around them chaotically. Rachel doesn’t even mind the mess that she’s making; she even debates turning on the jets to make this even more of a delightfully debauched hot tub scenario, but she decides against it, choosing to just enjoy it for what it is.

When she feels Michelle start to falter, though, her hands land on the girl’s hips.

“Getting tired?” she asks, and when Michelle whines and nods frantically, she wonders if the girl has become so delusional that she thinks she’s going to get a reprieve just from mentioning it.

She knows that she should be a little softer with her while she adjusts to this new life, but at the same time, she doesn’t want Michelle to go getting it in her head that she’s anything more than Rachel’s sex slave to do with exactly as she pleases.

“Poor baby,” she coos with false sympathy, her nails digging in suddenly to the fat at the girl’s hips, that bit of plushness she’s never quite lost in spite of the harsh treatment Rachel has put her through.

It seems a little more plentiful now, maybe because of the way Lynn has been spoiling her the past few months, fattening her up to give her a false sense of security that allowed her to take Michelle away without her ever realizing that they were walking right into Rachel’s elaborate trap.

She’s going to need to keep an eye on that. She’s had so many things made to Michelle’s exact specifications, and though she has more than enough money to replace things if they get outgrown, she would much rather not have to bother with such a thing.

Michelle’s body is hers to do with as she pleases in every other day, of course, so keeping her nice and slim shouldn’t be much of a problem. She’s going to be putting her through her paces every day with sex and chores, and making sure that her diet is tightly controlled at the same time shouldn’t be a problem.

Most days her stomach is probably going to be so full of cum that she won’t even be able to stomach the idea of food, regardless. And doesn’t cum make for good protein?

“Here. Let me take over for you, so you can have a break.”

A break for her legs having to lift herself off of Rachel’s cock and slam herself back down over and over again, but for the rest of her, the torment is only just beginning— because when Rachel lifts Michelle by her waist off of her cock until only the head of it is left inside, she slams her back down with the kind of force that only gravity can accomplish.

Michelle shrieks, in either pain or surprise (or a fun cocktail of both), and the scream peters out into small sobs that make her entire body shake. It sends a thrill through Rachel as she lifts her up and drops her back down again, a wicked grin creeping onto her face.

This is what she had been missing those few months they had been apart, but now, even though she doesn’t need to rush— she also doesn’t need to worry.

She doesn’t have to fear anyone hearing Michelle’s screams of fear and anguish, as she had when she had raped her in her bedroom with her own mother just downstairs. She doesn’t have to worry about anyone from the outside world accidentally stumbling upon their den of sin, as she had when she had been holding Michelle captive in her grandfather’s estate, where she had taken every precaution that the two of them wouldn’t be bothered and yet still couldn’t be sure that a deliveryman or one of the people who stabled their horses on her grandfather’s property wouldn’t knock on the door one day and discover her dirty little secret.

Now she’s so secluded from the rest of society, with the only people who come and go from her island home aside from the two women she has made into her pets being the various people she pays more than enough to keep quiet so long as they do their jobs, that she never has to worry about being discovered ever again.

She’s completely gotten away with it— and as nice as Michelle feels around her cock, what feels even better is the sweet taste of victory.

No, scratch that. Thrusting up into Michelle’s pussy until she feels the way Michelle’s body starts to mould to the shape of her cock against her will is far better than any other feeling, although the fact that all of her hard work has paid off and there’s nothing Michelle or anyone else can do about it is certainly a well-earned garnish on top.

She can’t fuck her as hard or as fast as she would like to, contained to the bath the way the two of them are, but it doesn’t matter. She fucks into her hard enough to make her make little punched out noises of pain in spite of the fact that she can feel her pussy fluttering around her in pleasure, hard enough that the sounds of skin slapping against skin echo through the cavernous tile bathroom.

She doesn’t have to hold herself back or try to draw it out for fear that she won’t get to do something like this again for a while; she knows that she has all the time and opportunities in the world.

So when she feels the pleasure rising up from the pit of her stomach, her cock twitching inside of Michelle, she doesn’t want to force herself to hold back for too long— there’s only one thing she wants to do before she cums.

She wants to make Michelle cum on her cock in spite of how pained and sensitive she is, because in the end, that would be the ultimate victory for her.

When she knows that holding herself back for much longer isn’t really an option, she reaches around and slips her hand between Michelle’s legs, petting across her swollen cunt and rubbing against her aching clit. Michelle keens like an injured animal, and the water isn’t helping because it washes away her slickness, but Rachel persists; her efforts to get her off are perhaps a bit clumsier than usual, but she highly doubts any criticism Michelle might have for her will be about her not touching her in the right way— more likely about her touching her at all, and kept very much to herself, because Michelle is smart and understands her situation even if she can’t bring herself to fully accept it.

Instead she just keeps making noises, as though she herself has become one of the animals Rachel expects her to tend to. Gasps and moans, whines and little choked out sobs, and not once does she try to beg with words.

Clearly she knows it isn’t going to help her, and that Rachel is in no mood to offer her any more mercy than she already has. After all, she’s been incredibly nice to her so far— only because she wants to be considerate to Lynn’s request, but because time and experience are making her more familiar with what she needs to do if she wants to be able to keep Michelle in the long term.

It’s like buying yourself an exotic pet; if you don’t do your research beforehand, you’re sure to have a bad time as soon as something goes wrong.

When Michelle cums, the noise she lets out is strangled and weedy. It’s not a sound Rachel would have expected to ever hear coming from a human mouth before she had started to take apart and reconstruct a teenager to meet her exact specifications.

Rachel knows that even Michelle who has been trained to handle a lot more than most girls her age won’t be able to keep up with cumming on her cock and not slumping over for much longer, so she happily rams her cock up into her cunt until she can feel that heat in the pit of her stomach rise over the boiling point and suddenly she’s cumming inside of her.

“Ahh…” She lets out a sigh of relief that has nothing to do with the relaxation of the hot water they’re sitting in, though she does notice that it’s started to go cold. No, this time the relief is from her libido rather than her body, but all the same it feels like a weight off her shoulders.

Michelle whimpers as she starts to slump forward. Rachel’s cock is still stuffed in her, making sure her cum isn’t going to leak out and make a mess of the water, but it seems like it’s about time for the two of them to get out anyway; no doubt Lynn is wondering what’s taking the two of them so long, and Rachel doesn’t want her breakfast to go to waste.

She carefully lifts Michelle off of her cock. Michelle whimpers like an abused dog, and Rachel has a hard time figuring out how to handle her as she tries to get them both out of the tub, but manages it eventually, although she has to let Michelle slump wetly to the floor as she does.

She doesn’t have the energy to clean up the mess they’ve made of the floor, but she does throw a few towels from the towel closet onto the water that sloshed out of the tub during their vigorous fucking. She’ll send Lynn up to take care of it later; she wants to make sure Michelle has plenty of responsibilities to keep her busy, but she would rather focus on the responsibilities that keep Michelle’s body limber and ready for her to fuck at any given moment for now.

Once Michelle has been a little better broken in, once her body has gotten used to this lifestyle again and has gotten stronger, then she can worry about her responsibilities as a personal slave and not just a cum dump. For now, she just wants to keep things simple.

No need to confuse the poor girl.

She dries Michelle off, for the most part, though she might still be a little damp; it doesn’t really matter, given their new home is nice and warm at this time of the year, she won’t have to worry about her catching a chill. She doesn’t bother to dress her (she was already naked when she came in, after all), and doesn’t bother to dress herself, either. She really only still wears clothes out of habit; there’s no reason for her to dress in her own home unless she’s expecting company.

Michelle and Lynn have both seen her naked plenty of times, so it doesn’t even matter anymore. Lynn would probably prefer if she walked around naked all the time just like the two of them do, although it would certainly distract her from getting anything done, considering how much time she always wants to spend just worshipping her cock.

Michelle, on the other hand, probably just wouldn’t care one way or the other. Rachel is getting the impression that there isn’t much she does care about, at this point.

She hauls Michelle to her feet and the two of them make their way downstairs, Rachel’s now softened cock swinging in front of her. It won’t take long before she gets hard again, to be sure. For right now, though, she’s thinking with her stomach rather than her dick, for once.

Maybe because she’s had plenty of chances to get off, which means her brain is feeling free and unclouded for the first time in ages. Now she doesn’t have to work a high-stress job just to be able to keep her mind off of how horny she is; she can just deal with it any time she wants!

The smell of a hot, fresh breakfast practically smacks her in the face as the two of them make their way downstairs, although it doesn’t seem to stir Michelle the way it does for her. Instead, Michelle is wandering like she’s a zombie, and maybe that is what she feels like.

It doesn’t matter to Rachel. As the two of them enter the kitchen, with its floor to ceiling windows that allow in as much beautiful summer sunlight as possible and gives them a perfect view of the sea outside, Rachel sees Lynn standing by the stove.

“Oh! The two of you took longer than I thought you would, but everything is ready!” Lynn is smiling brightly as she starts putting food onto plates, wearing nothing but a frilly pink apron emblazoned with ‘Kiss the Cook’ and a big cartoonish lipstick mark. “I hope you like it— I’m not used to cooking with ingredients like this, but I tried my best!”

“You’ll have to get used to the cuisine here,” Rachel says. “I’m fond of it myself, and having things imported can take a long time. I’d rather we not be bothered too often, too.”

“Of course, of course.” Lynn sets three places at the table, and Michelle stumbles over to one chair, immediately picking up a fork. Rachel worries about her eating more than her fill, considering her plans to put her on a strict diet, but judging by the way she prods at the seasoned potatoes on her plate, she won’t have to worry about her eating too much.

Rachel moves to sit down as well, but Lynn steps in front of her. From the way her eyes are sparkling with expectation, it’s clear what she wants.

The fact that Rachel’s tastes tend to run young isn’t the only reason she’s avoided relationships with women her own age. People of all ages can come to expect something from a relationship, but when it comes to people younger than her— people who have yet to get the full breadth of experiences that life has to offer— it’s often easy to manipulate them, if she doesn’t outright break them the way she has with Michelle.

Adults, even those who are easy to manipulate and twist to one’s own desires, always have an expectation of what the world is going to be like. Lynn, in particular, has ascribed herself to this notion that the two of them are in love— and if Rachel wants to keep up this ruse until she’s quite sure neither woman will be able to do anything to disturb this perfect life that she’s built for herself, she’s going to have to play along.

She gives Lynn the kiss that she wants. As a treat for herself, she cups one of her breasts through her silly apron, kneading and massaging it, enjoying that Michelle got her figure from her mother, even if Lynn’s is starting to show the obvious signs of aging.

Lynn moans into the kiss and the way Rachel plays with her breast, and the kiss deepens naturally as the two press their tongues into each other’s mouths. She can feel Lynn’s nipples peaking under the thin fabric of her apron, and the way she squirms on the spot tells her that she’s turned on enough to be getting wet— if she wasn’t already soaking from just imagining what the two of them had been doing in the baths while she was trapped downstairs making breakfast for them, that is.

Lynn relaxes into the deep make out session, and though Rachel enjoys the feeling of Lynn’s mouth on hers, she’s much more interested in cracking one of her eyes open and looking over Lynn’s shoulder at Michelle sitting at the table.

She’s squirming uncomfortably in her seat, her face screwed up into a look of fear and disgust. Certainly, seeing her mother making out with her rapist right in front of her must be a terrible blow to Michelle’s pride, if she even has any left— and if her appetite weren’t already ruined by their tub play, she’s sure it would be by the sight of them together like this.

That’s alright, though. She’ll get used to it soon enough. Rachel does wish there was a way she could tell Michelle she’s still her favourite without it getting back to Lynn, though— she thinks it would be quite delicious to see the way Michelle would get so distraught over her saying something like that, something which should be praise but most certainly isn’t coming from someone like her.

She can’t stop herself from grinning against Lynn’s lips, just a little.

Eventually, Lynn does have to pull away, gasping for air. Breathing is a troublesome notion that seems to get in the way more than it actually helps, most of the time.

If only she could find a solution for that, too…

“Rachel…” Lynn gasps, her shoulders heaving and her face bright red. “Don’t you think it’s time we told Michelle about…?”

“Not yet.” She cuts Lynn off abruptly, before she can say anymore. Michelle perks up behind Lynn, like a prey animal that has just heard a loud noise or smelled a predator. “Let’s let her focus on her chores for right now. I’m sure Michelle will be delighted to hear all about our plans when she’s finished with that, won’t you, Michelle?”

Lynn turns towards Michelle as Rachel asks that, and Michelle swallows hard and nods, not saying a word as she stares down at her plate of untouched breakfast.

Rachel smirks as she takes her own seat at the table, happy to tuck into a plate of breakfast while she looks at Michelle over the top of the table and wonders just how many more ways she can torment the girl before she crumbles and breaks down entirely.

Chapter Text

It’s time for Michelle’s daily chore— taking care of the animals in the menagerie.

As she had learned after finishing up the previous time, her only duty with the animals is to take care of their sexual needs. She had inquired about who was taking care of them the rest of the time, and Rachel had given her a vague non-answer, but Michelle didn’t think she was going to find any source of help from whoever Michelle had hired to take care of them.

The thought had crossed her mind, but… Surely Rachel wouldn’t hire just anyone to take care of the animals. If they were people who were coming to the island, then they would have to be the kind of people who would keep secrets no matter what, who Rachel would be able to control almost as completely as she controls Michelle and her mother.

What was the point? If the people would just end up telling Rachel that she was trying to get away and it would end up hurting more than helping, there was no reason for her to even try.

Although she hates this chore, the one advantage of it is that Michelle gets to be alone. When she’s in the house, she’s constantly at the beck and call of Rachel or her mother, who is surprisingly active in tormenting her even though she doesn’t seem to realize that’s what she’s doing.

When she’s out here, the only living creatures around her at the animals she’s supposed to ‘take care of’... Which means that she gets to have a little bit more freedom, even if that freedom feels more like an illusion than anything.

The menagerie isn’t just stocked with the kind of exotic animals you would expect to find in a zoo. One enclosure has a small herd of horses in a variety of colours and patterns, who placidly graze and stare at her as she walks by, making her way to the other much more familiar area of their little ‘zoo’.

Michelle isn’t too familiar with dog kennels— her mother had never allowed her to have a pet ever since her first cat had died and she had been so inconsolable her mother nearly had to have her hospitalized because of it— but she knows that this is what they probably look like. Every dog has his own little pen, much nicer than the ones you see in photos and videos from inside of animal shelters, with their own comfortable beds and toys.

Funny how Rachel takes so much better care of the animals than she does the humans that she has under her control. Then again, that’s probably the point— Michelle certainly feels like she’s worth less than a pet dog most of the time.

Michelle actually likes dogs, in spite of what Rachel has made her do with one. She always got along well with friends’ dogs growing up, though it became awkward when she got older and puberty hit and so many of them wanted to shove their noses into her crotch, especially when she was on her period. As soon as she got to take a chance to actually look around the menagerie and find out what she would be dealing with on a daily basis, she had zeroed in on the kennel, knowing that it was probably the best she could make of a bad situation.

Dogs, too, are easier for her to deal with than some of the bigger, meaner, more dangerous animals, even if Rachel has assured her that every one of them has been trained to be safe for people to be around— especially women that they get to fuck.

(She doesn’t even want to think about where Rachel might be sourcing animals who are trained to fuck women ‘safely’. It was only a few years ago that she still thought the black market referred to an actual place.)

All of the dogs in the kennel start to bark as soon as she walks in, a loud, uproarious sound that makes it hard for her to think straight, but she doesn’t really like where her brain is allowed to wander when she’s left totally to her own thoughts so she doesn’t really mind. At least this is something of a distraction, even if it’s not a pleasant one.

None of the dogs in the private kennel are the dog that she became acquainted with when Rachel took her captive in the farm house. Maybe she was just borrowing that pooch, or maybe transporting him overseas had just been too much of a hassle. One way or another, all of the dogs here are unfamiliar to her, but that’s alright.

Michelle looks into each one of the cages, trying to see which dogs are the least aggressive, which ones she thinks will be the best behaved. She knows she can only put off dealing with them for so long— Rachel will surely be keeping track, somehow, of which animals she’s been fucking and which ones she hasn’t, and she’d rather go along with her little game than get punished for ignoring her rules. But for right now, she still wants to have the chance to ease herself into it a little.

A frog that’s been put into cold water that is slowly brought up to a boil will die a much more peaceful death than one that's suddenly dropped into water that is already boiling, after all.

She peeks into one of the kennels and finds herself stopping, letting out a small, involuntary gasp.

When she was in the seventh grade, not too long before her body started to develop and all of her friends decided that they hated her and wanted her dead just because she suddenly sprouted tits over summer break, she had been invited to the house of a classmate for a sleepover. She didn’t know the girl super well, but there were only five girls in her class that year, and so they all made an effort to be friends, even if it hadn’t really worked out.

At the sleepover, the girl had a huge white fluffy dog that she called Marshmallow. At first Michelle had been a little scared of Marshmallow just because of how big he was. He had practically been as big as her!

But over the course of the night she had found that Marshmallow was a big softie who wanted nothing more than to be treated as a lapdog in spite of his size, and she had absolutely fallen in love with him. She had gone home begging her mom for a puppy, even promising to do all of the walks and the feeding and the cleaning up after, but her mother had reminded her that she wasn’t allowed to have any pets and then had banned her from ever going over to that girl’s house again, which had made Michelle lock herself in her room and cry for an entire night.

Later, Michelle had learned that Marshmallow was a dog called a samoyed— a big, fluffy, white dog that was apparently a very expensive breed if you were looking for a purebred, which most people were. They certainly weren’t massive dogs, like a great dane or a cane corso would be considered, but they were big enough that she’s sure Marshmallow had weighed almost as much as her before she had hit her final growth spurt.

The samoyed that she’s looking at right now is definitely bigger than Marshmallow had been. She wonders if he might be crossbred with something— he looks just like the Marshmallow out of her memories, but that’s certainly a big dog, much bigger than the 50 something pounds Marshmallow must have been.

He acts just as sweet as the dog of her dreams, though. As soon as he sees her through the bars of his kennel, he comes bounding up, tail wagging. He jumps up at the bars— he doesn’t look quite as heavy as the dog that Rachel had brought in at the farm house, but definitely big enough that if he were to jump up on her unexpectedly, he would have a good chance at knocking her over, especially with how weak she feels all the time lately.

“Hey there, boy.” She knows that the dog is a boy not only because she can’t imagine Rachel would equip the menagerie with any female animals— unless lesbian bestiality porn is something she’s just never considered as existing before— but because of the vibrant red cock that’s pushing its way out of his sheath, hanging down between his legs. The colour of it stands out against his fur. “What’s your name, huh?”

She doesn’t know if the dogs really don’t have names or if Rachel just hasn’t bothered to label them or put that information anywhere. She hadn’t thought to ask the same question about the other animals she had fucked yesterday— it just seemed more natural not to name wild animals than it would domesticated ones, she supposes. But face to face with the sweet dog in front of her (and standing up on his hind legs, his face really isn’t that far from her face), she has to wonder what his name might be.

“Are you another Marshmallow? I think that’s what I’d name a dog like you,” she coos, thinking back to the little girl who had cried and begged her mother for a puppy only to have a potential friendship cruelly cut off because her mother didn’t want to have to deal with her asking for one again. It’s hardly the most wretched thing her mother has ever done to her (the fact that she’s standing where she is right now is proof enough of that), but it’s stuck in her memories all these years all the same.

‘Marshmallow’ barks at the door, and the bark turns into a whine. He obviously wants to get to her, and although a moment ago she had been dreading doing something like this— figuring dogs would at least be the lesser of a lot of other evils— now she feels a little excited as she looks for the panel that will let her open up the kennel.

She knows exactly what is going to happen to her when she does, but if it means getting to cuddle a dog that is very much like the dog she had dreamed of having as a girl in the process, well…

Surely she had to find some kind of good in all of the bad eventually, right?

Marshmallow— because she’s decided that’s what she’s going to call him, even if he has another name— is more than happy to jump out at her as soon as she unlocks the door, which swings out as soon as unlocked unlike the ones before, maybe because Rachel has deemed dogs to be much safer animals to care for. The fluff ball’s tail is wagging as he jumps up on Michelle and starts to lick her face… And in spite of all of the terrible things happening around her, she can’t help but giggle at the way it tickles as he does.

“S-stop it, boy!” She can barely get the words out in the midst of her laughter, which is starting to turn to tears. Not because she’s upset, but because she had thought that there was no way she was ever going to find something worth laughing over ever again… Even if it’s as simple as being tickled by kisses from a dog. “Down!”

Marshmallow has been well-trained— no surprise when it comes to dogs that are meant to fuck humans on camera, who would certainly have to be well-behaved so the actresses didn’t get hurt— and he listens as soon as she says it. It gives her a small thrill when she sees him sit, wagging his tail and tilting her head at her expectantly but still patiently waiting for her to give him some kind of command.

It makes Michelle’s heart melt, a little.

Maybe if Rachel had even once considered giving her the tiniest bit of autonomy, she wouldn’t hate this entire situation as much as she does. It’s not as though the sex feels bad— she’s gotten used to just how good it feels, even if it also hurts because Rachel doesn’t care in the least if she’s hurting her when she fucks her, only cares to make her cum when it’s amusing for her and not because it feels good for Michelle— and maybe, just maybe, if Rachel actually made her laugh or smile even once in the entire time they had known each other, she wouldn’t hate her and her circumstances so much.

Why had she decided to seduce her mom, to make her actually want to be with her, while Michelle was doomed to be treated like a doormat and know it the entire time? Couldn’t she have put in that effort to groom her, to make her feel like she was special before turning her into just another sex toy?

Maybe Rachel didn’t care in the least about how she felt, but the dog in front of her did. Dogs always cared, unless you pushed them too far.

“You won’t be so rough with me, will you, boy?” She coos at the dog as she gets on her knees in front of him, petting her hands through his perfectly soft fur. She’s glad Rachel had given her such an intense scrub down— his fur is so perfectly white that she wouldn’t want to get it dirty with her filthy hands.

She’s going to get dirty again before long, but at least for now she can pretend to be as clean on the inside as she is on the outside.

Now that she’s closer to his eye level, Marshmallow’s excitement seems to double. His tail is wagging so hard that she’s worried he might hurt himself, and he jumps up with his paws on his shoulders so he can lick her face even more effectively.

Michelle’s laughter rings through the kennel, and seems to set off the other dogs. Some of them start to bark, other start to whine like they’re upset at being left out of the fun. Michelle isn’t used to laughing anymore— it’s been a long time since she’s had anything to laugh about, and faking it just never seemed to feel like the real thing— and the tears in her eyes and shaking in her shoulders quickly starts to subdue her until she feels like her whole body is made of jelly.

When she sinks to the floor, Marshmallow seems to think that it’s his time to strike. Obviously he’s been waiting for this moment— if he really is a dog that’s trained to fuck women for the sake of illegal porn, then he would know exactly what he’s supposed to do— and while Michelle is on her back and still fighting off the residual giggles, he scooches down her body and shoves his cold wet nose between her legs.

The sensation of his nose pressing against her pussy makes her gasp, if only because of the sudden, abrupt change in temperature. He takes a few deep sniffs of her like he’s trying to commit her scent to memory, and then the tongue that had been licking at her face comes out to lick at somewhere much more intimate.

“M-Marshmallow!” She cries out the dog’s name the same way she would cry out for a lover, her body going stiff and her back arching off the packed-dirt floor at the sudden spike of pleasure. The moan she lets out is almost a scream, too.

Rachel has gotten her off plenty of times, most of them probably without meaning to. Her mother has done so a few times in the past few days, treating it the way she would treat making her a hot chocolate and giving her a warm hug, which is what most mothers would do for their children if they were having a hard time. But in both cases, those feelings had been tainted. The former by her hatred for Rachel and her realization that she was being treated as nothing more than a toy for Rachel’s pleasure— and the latter by the disgust and horror she felt at having her own mother having sex with her, all while telling her that she should feel grateful that a rich and successful woman wants to rape her on a daily basis.

Although this should feel tainted too— Marshmallow is a dog, after all— it doesn’t, somehow. The pleasure feels raw and she finds herself petting Marshmallow’s fluffy head as he laps at her pussy like her juices are the most delicious treat he’s ever had, his floofy tail wagging the whole time, and it’s only the realization that he might get uncomfortable that stops her from wrapping her legs around his head to keep him right where she wants him.

Held against her, giving her the pleasure she so desperately needs to be a distraction from the horror that she’s been put through every single day for far longer than she cares to even think about.

Her breath comes in quick gasps, and she reaches up and cups her own breasts in her hands, squeezing and kneading them in a way that actually feels good to her, unlike when Rachel does it to amuse herself. She pinches gently at her own nipples instead of practically ripping them off the way Rachel does; she squeezes herself gently instead of doing something that’s going to leave bruises, ones that she at least doesn’t have to worry about potentially explaining away anymore.

Everyone who sees her naked from now on is going to know exactly where those bruises come from and why she has them, after all.

It doesn’t take long for her to climb up towards that peak. She’s not fighting against it this time, the way she usually is with Rachel or her mother; she lets the pleasure wash over her naturally, so it feels more like being carried up by a gently moving escalator than being forced to rock climb or being yanked up on a rickety rail cart.

She had thought that the way her mother touched her had felt so much better than when Rachel did so, if only because she was so much more gentle and interested in pleasuring her even if it was for twisted reasons, but the lack of pretense and the fact that Marshmallow made her relax beforehand makes this one feel even better, and as she finally hits the top of the peak and starts tumbling over, the scream she lets out is the kind of pure sound of unadulterated pleasure that she had forgotten she was even able to make.

Her vision goes dark at the edges from the sheer force of it, as she lies panting on the ground, all of the strength suddenly disappearing from her body. She feels like she’s about to pass out, but she fights against the feeling— not only because she knows Rachel is going to reprimand her for sleeping on the job if she does so before she’s hit her quota for the day, but because there’s something she has to take care of first.

Marshmallow had been a real gentleman in getting her off so sweetly before he got to do anything himself; she needs to repay him.

The way he snuffles and whines at her pussy is reminder enough of that, and he paces uncertainly like he doesn’t know what to do next. Presumably, the people who are making bestiality porn usually don’t expect the dog to fuck the woman missionary style, and half passed out on the floor to boot; there’s an entire sex position called doggy style, after all.

One that Michelle isn’t sure she’s going to be able to keep up, considering how weak in the knees she feels right now, but if it’s what it’s going to take to pay Marshmallow back for taking away even some of the stress she’s been feeling lately, then she’ll push through that uncertainty.

“H-hold on boy,” she gasps as she forces herself to sit up, ignoring the way the room spins around her when she does, too cum drunk to be able to see straight. She’s going to be feeling even more of that by the time she’s done with her chores, but maybe the endorphins from a genuinely good orgasm will be able to carry her through.

With legs shaking from being forced to move at all when she’s so obviously in need of a chance to recover, Michelle turns herself over. She starts on her belly, because it’s easier to just let herself flop back to the ground and try to roll over than it would be to try to sit up properly and move around on her knees— and once she’s facing the proper way, then she tries to push herself up to her knees.

The only way she can stay in proper doggy style is with some help from her surroundings, because her legs are shaking so bad there’s no way she would be able to stay on her knees without some help. So she grabs the bars of the cage in front of her; they’re slick, making it hard for her to keep her grip with her sweating palms, but sturdy enough that she can lean her weight onto them.

The dog in the cage is a big Saint Bernard, who looks twice as big as Marshmallow but very calm. He’s watching what’s going on outside of his kennel with interest (she can see the little red rocket between his legs), but firmly on the other side of the bars, he seems happy to just pant and stare at what’s going on in the hall just outside.

Marshmallow knows an invitation when he sees one; Michelle barely has time to look back over her shoulder before he jumps up, mounting her. His cock doesn’t go in right away, but she can feel his paws scrabbling at the floor behind her and across her back, and his cock rubbing against her ass.

“Ah!” She cries out from the oversensitivity, but is determined to grin and bear it, to grit her teeth against the feeling. After all, she has a reason to do it now; she wants to pay Marshmallow back for giving her the first reason she’s had to smile in a very long time.

His little doggy cock brushes against her pussy lips as he humps her, but he doesn’t seem to be talented enough to get inside of her without a little help. Michelle reaches back, feeling her whole body start to shake as she’s reduced to only three points of contact to keep her standing instead of four, but she bears with it and tries to fumble to find his cock.

It would be easier if someone else were there to help her, but this is her only alone time, and she’s going to savour it while it lasts.

She does manage to get her hand around it, which allows her to guide it towards her hole. She’s wet and open from her orgasm just a few moments ago, and Marshmallow is smaller than Rachel or her mother’s strap-on, which means that her body can take him easily.

In fact, it feels so much nicer than Rachel’s cock does— although if she were to push past the part of herself that hates Rachel, she would have to admit that being reamed open by a giant cock that looks like it should puncture something inside of her because of the sheer size of it is nice every once in a while.

When it’s constantly, all day every day, it can start to be more pain than pleasure— but Rachel naturally doesn’t care about any of that.

“Ahhhh…” She lets out a deep sigh, shuddering through the overstimulation as Marshmallow’s cock slides home. Dogs are not creatures renowned for their patience when they’re presented with something fun— although she’s been impressed before, seeing how cute some dogs could be on social media when their owners balance a treat on their nose or tell them to wait and put a bowl of food down on the floor in front of them. Marshmallow doesn’t seem to be one of those dogs, or she hasn’t used the words that would tell him to wait, because he instantly starts humping her as though his life depends on it.

She supposes that if all of these animals really were trained to be able to fuck people safely, to provide constant online porn to the kind of people who would want to consume content like that, they would have to be fucking women pretty regularly. For a human, it would be very entitled and downright scumbag-like for a guy to assume that just because he’s getting sex all the time that people should feel bad for him if he suddenly stops getting it— but animals aren’t people. Ruled by their basic instincts, they don’t know why they would suddenly stop getting the precious treat they’ve been given every day. They would just start to miss it.

It makes her feel a little better about her chore, knowing that she’s at least helping these poor animals (and she feels much worse for them than she does Rachel), but what makes her feel even better about it is the way Marshmallow’s cock scrapes against her inner walls in all the right ways.

His frantic humping at her cunt is the perfect rhythm to push her up against the bars in spite of the fact that he doesn’t weigh much— she just doesn’t have the strength to hold herself up any other way. Her breasts press against the bars as she pushes her cheek into them as well, now using her body as the leverage to keep herself up rather than just her slippery hands that are wrapped around the bars. Marshmallow starts pant heavily as he fucks her, his little doggy hips doing their absolute best to fuck her silly, although the way his fur tickles at her ass still manages to make her giggle even if that giggle trails off into a moan.

The Saint Bernard seems like a big, lazy fellow, but obviously the smell of sex and having Michelle pressed right up against the bars of his kennel are enough to attract his attention and make it more worthwhile than just lounging in his bed and watching the action happening.

He rises to his feet— does a big stretch and a big doggy yawn that makes her able to smell the kibble he probably had for breakfast all the way from where she’s pressed against his door— and walks over to them.

At first he just sniffs Michelle through the bars. Marshmallow gives a little warning bark, like he’s trying to tell him to stay away from the woman he’s fucking, but the Saint Bernard ignores him as that big slobbery tongue of his falls out of his mouth and he licks a stripe up her face.

His kisses are a lot messier than Marshmallows, and Michelle gasps at the sudden sensation. She’s been made a bigger mess before during the course of moments like these— she doesn’t think anything will ever compare to the mess that she was when she had finished ‘tending’ to all of the horses at Rachel’s farmhouse, although Rachel has plenty of time to find a way to one-up herself— but it still makes her sputter a bit, just from the surprise of it.

On the second lick, the Saint Bernard’s tongue slips into her mouth for a second. That makes her sputter even more, but he must taste her breakfast in her mouth— what little of it she had managed to eat while watching Rachel and her mother make out right in front of her— because he chases after the sensation of shoving his tongue into her mouth, like he’s trying to lick something up.

Or maybe this is just something he’s been trained to do, too. She can see where something like this would appeal to the kind of people who like to watch women getting fucked by dogs. Making out with a dog is a little less taboo than letting one knot your pussy, but not by much— certainly it would still get you totally ostracized from normal society, if not arrested the way letting a dog fuck you would.

Marshmallow growls. It seems like he really doesn’t want to share her, like a jealous boyfriend seeing another guy kissing his girlfriend. Michelle lets out a low, dull whine at that thought, which is muffled by the other dog’s tongue in her mouth.

Funny how she doesn’t mind being made into someone’s bitch as long as they’re gentle with her. Even if the someone in question is a dog rather than a human.

Like he’s trying to remind her just who she belongs to (even though he’s barely even known her for a few minutes, and is probably just desperate to knot her, pure animal instinct uncoloured by human feelings like jealousy), Marshmallow’s thrusts pick up. What he lacks in size he makes up for in stamina and speed, it seems, but it’s not long before she can feel his cock start to inflate with the knot that will tie the two of them together.

When that ball of flesh forces its way inside of her, Michelle throws back her head and screams to the ceiling, not in pain but with pleasure (mixed with the tiniest bit of pain because even if Marshmallow’s knot isn’t that big compared to the other dog who fucked her, it’s still not a sensation she’s used to). It forces her head away from the Saint Bernard, who lets out a grumpy huff as if to complain about the fact that he got up from his nap only for her to turn her nose up at him.

Michelle can feel the soft fluff of Marshmallow’s fur against her back, just as warm as she can feel his cum pumping inside of her, coating her insides. She wiggles her hips slightly, feeling the knot inside of her. She’s still sensitive from her orgasm just a few minutes ago, but aside from the sensitivity, she feels good; she feels accomplished at the fact that she made Marshmallow cum, and now there’s a part of her that, in spite of that sensitivity, wants to chase another orgasm herself, clenching around his knot buried inside of her.

The Saint Bernard is tired of being ignored. He lets out a big, deep WOOF that would certainly sound intimidating to anyone who doesn’t know just how much of a big lazy boy he was, and Michelle can see his tail wagging with anticipation.

Contrary to his lazy nature, he jumps up against the bars. Michelle gasps, shocked by his sudden action, and almost slides down the bars in response— but when she finds herself face to face with his bright red doggy cock, she suddenly realizes his intentions.

It’s smarter for her to take care of two animals at once if she can manage it. It’ll help her meet her quota quicker, and then she can get some rest. Not the most restful rest, she’s sure, but even if Rachel wants to fuck her ruthlessly in bed or make her clean the house with a sex toy inside of her, it’s definitely easier on her body than being fucked by animals for whoever long it takes her to complete her daily task.

Not to mention, she feels a little bad for the poor doggy. She doesn’t like him as much as she likes Marshmallow, but she loves dogs, even ones that are being used to torment her— it’s Rachel’s fault, not theirs, and they’re suffering from being so pent-up, right?

If she’s going to be forced to do something like this anyway, she might as well be doing it for the sake of helping someone out who is innocent rather than a madwoman, right?

The bars are wide enough that she can press a good portion of her face through them, although her head won’t fit. She manages to stick her tongue out far enough that she can lick up the side of the dog’s cock and hopes that he’s going to get the message.

From the second or maybe third pulse of cum that Marshmallow is pumping into her— she hasn’t really been keeping track— she has a feeling that the pooch currently buried in her cunt is going to be there for a while, so the least she can do is try to get the one still in the cage off with her mouth.

The dog obviously gets the message, making it clear that he has in fact done things like this before, although probably with women who have a lot more knowledge and experience in this sort of thing than she does. Michelle will be an expert soon enough, of that much she’s sure, but for right now she’s just going to try to do her best.

Crowding as close as he can to the bars while leaning on them— he doesn’t have the benefit of being bipedal like humans do— the Saint Bernard gets his cock as close to Michelle as he can, and it’s enough for her to get most of it into her mouth. The bars on the cage make it hard, but with Marshmallow still inside of her, she can’t reach for the security panel that would let him out, so this will have to do.

The taste of his cock is bitter and urinal, but Michelle powers through it, clenching around Marshmallow’s cock as she does and being rewarded with another spurt of his cum. She can feel a nice heat building through her, and it makes her suck on the Saint Bernard’s cock even more insistently, bobbing her head as much as she can with the bars in the way and making up for her limited mobility by running her tongue around what she can’t reach.

The Saint Bernard barks deep and loud, his nails scrabbling for purchase against the floor as he fights the urge to kick his leg like he’s scratching an itch. She assumes that means she’s doing well, and that thought alone makes her pussy clench involuntarily this time as she moans around the dog’s cock.

It might not be with words, but she’s being praised genuinely for what she’s doing for once.

Would Rachel actually make her feel special if she gave her the chance? It’s not that Rachel has never complimented her, but she likes to balance it out with critiques. She’s a perfectionist herself— no doubt that’s how she got so far in the world of business in spite of her gender, making sure everything was perfect before anyone else ever got to see it— but if she could just be a little more patient with Michelle, give her a little more time to adjust, she’s sure that she could at least learn to tolerate all of this.

It’s not like she has much of a choice. She doesn’t want to be miserable if she’s going to be stuck here. It’s just hard to find anything to be happy about when she might as well be a slave rather than a lover or even a prized possession.

The barking sets off the other dogs. The kennel is suddenly filled with the loud din of barking dogs, some of them obviously knowing what’s going on from either the sight or the smell, and the rest of them just happy to get caught up in the cacophony with the rest of their fellows. Michelle lets the sound wash over her. It’s chaotic, but the chaos lets her let go of her inhibitions because it’s not like she can focus through all of that noise anyway.

When Marshmallow shifts from foot to foot behind her and his knot brushes up against something inside of her cunt, she moans loudly around the Saint Bernard’s cock as she feels something spark at the base of her spine, and suddenly she’s cumming again.

Her orgasm is so wet that it almost feels like she’s pissed herself, her juices making a puddle on the floor and running down her thighs. Marshmallow’s all done, it seems— she whines in complaint as his cock slips out of her body, leaving her feeling empty and leaving his cum to drip out of her cunt, joining the rest of her juices in running down her legs and onto the floor below.

Her Saint Bernard friend doesn’t take long to follow suit, though Michelle is careful not to let him get his knot inside of her mouth as his hips frantically jump forward. It would be one thing to have a dog knot in her mouth— that sounds unpleasant enough— but doing so through the bars of a cage when the dog will no doubt not be able to stand on his hind legs long enough for the knot to go on just sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.

The spurts of hot cum coat the inside of her mouth, and she swallows them down as they come, knowing from past experience that letting it build up is going to leave her choking and unable to breathe. A second round is too much for the Saint Bernard, it seems, who moves back to jump down and get back on all fours— but Michelle yanks her mouth away from him just in time to avoid getting scratched or hurt by the awkward position.

It does mean she gets a nice spurt of dog cum right across her face because the timing is just too perfect, but that’s alright. Her glasses stop the worst of it from ending up in her eye, and she’s going to need to take another bath after this anyway.

Satisfied, the Saint Bernard returns to his bed and curls up, ready for a nap. Marshmallow, on the other hand, is standing right behind her waiting for her acknowledgement.

“You’re such a good boy,” she says as she turns around on her knees to pet him, ruffling his soft white fur. Marshmallow wiggles happily and jumps up, planting his paws on her shoulders so he can lick her face, which makes her laugh again— and does a good job helping her clean up the cum that’s on there, too.

Such a helpful dog!

“Alright, alright! I really wish I could take you back to the house with me, but… Rachel hasn’t given me permission to do something like that.” Michelle feels just like that little girl so long ago who was distraught about being banned from ever going over to her new friend’s house just because she liked her dog so much, and she can’t stop herself from pouting. “But I promise I’ll come see you tomorrow, okay? Now get back in your cage… Good boy.”

Marshmallow is reluctant to return to his kennel, but he does so with his ears flattened against his head. The puppy eyes he’s giving her from the bed as he turns around a few times and makes himself comfortable before looking up at her and giving her one of those deep doggy sighs almost breaks her heart, but she knows what would happen if she brought him with her without permission.

Rachel would just get rid of him. Return him to wherever he came from, or something like that. As punishment, she would never get to see him again— just like her mom had punished her by telling her she could never have a pet after her cat died because she got too emotional about it.

At least if he’s here, she can see him every day, even if she has to drag herself to the kennel after servicing a bunch of other animals who are probably much bigger and meaner than he is.

Michelle turns to see the rest of the kennel. Most of the other dogs are standing at the front of their cages, panting or whining. All of them have erections, from big to small, and all of them are staring at her expectantly.

Michelle swallows hard. She can’t possibly take care of all of them, but she hasn’t gotten any kind of signal that her chore is done for the day, which means that she has more to do before she’s allowed to go back to the house.

Swallowing down her fear, knowing that every other option outside of the kennel would just be worse, she goes from cage to cage and starts opening them up. Unfortunately some of the dogs will have to wait for the next day regardless— but she lets five of them out before she’s faced with what is probably a dog walker’s worst nightmare, if they were featured in some of the depraved porn she’s sure Rachel has watched a lot of in her time.

A great dane with big slobbery jowls, a golden retriever with the silkiest peach-gold fur she’s ever seen, a german shepherd who is standing at perfect attention and paying at the air like he’s waiting for a command, a dalmatian who is wearing one of those rubber muzzles that dogs can still eat and drink through, and a big shaggy black and white dog that she thinks is some kind of sheepdog that doesn’t look like it can even see through the fur hanging in its eyes are all standing there waiting for her attention. Michelle realizes at that moment that she might have gotten herself in over her head— but if it gets this done and over with more quickly, then so be it.

She gets down on the floor on her hands and knees— willing them not to shake or give out under her with the force of the pleasure that she’s already experienced today, and how tired she’s already feeling after that aggressive bath and having barely eaten any of her breakfast, and looks to them.

“Okay, boys— come and get me.”

The dogs don’t hesitate. The dalmatian seems to know just what to do, jumping up to hump at her face. The golden retriever is similarly eager, running around behind her to mount her and try to stick his cock inside of her immediately. The other dogs surround her on all sides, losing her in a sea of fur while all she can see is dog cock and all she can feel is fur and claws, but soon she also feels tongues as the dogs who can’t fight their way through for dominance start to lick the sweat off her body like they’re trying to occupy themselves while they wait their turn.

But Michelle doesn’t let herself get overwhelmed, She angles her mouth to catch the dalmatian cock, letting it fuck between her lips and doing her best not to second guess herself so she ends up choking, just like Rachel taught her. She wants to reach behind her to angle the golden retriever’s cock into her pussy, just to give him that little bit of extra help she thinks he needs, but in the end she doesn’t have to worry about that; he gets it soon enough, and she moans around the dalmatian’s cock.

The sheepdog and the german shepherd’s tongue lap at her skin, including a fixation with her breasts as they bounce under her body while she’s fucked from both ends.

The great dane is content to stand back and wait for his turn, and when it comes— the dalmatian being the one to finish first, growling at the two dogs licking at her breasts while he makes an even bigger mess of her throat and face than was already there— Michelle doesn’t let herself be intimidated by him, either, even though the way he stands on her shoulders is with far more ease than all of the other dogs have had.

She’s decided, thanks to Marshmallow, that she’s going to learn how to endure this with all of the dignity that she has. Even if that doesn’t amount to much anymore, she isn’t just going to let Rachel walk all over her— and even though there isn’t anything she can think of to do that would help her escape, she isn’t going to curl up into a ball and cry about it, either.

Michelle has never been a fighter before, but maybe it’s time for her to start.

Chapter Text

By the time Michelle makes it back to the house— a PA system announcement after all of the dogs from her little makeshift pack has been satisfied telling her that she’s done her animal care for the day— it feels like her stomach is so full of dog cum that she can’t possibly think about eating, or about doing anything other than washing herself and collapsing into bed.

She doesn’t have a choice about those things, though. She barely manages to stumble inside before her mother all but grabs her and yanks her into the kitchen.

Michelle is so disoriented that she barely understands what’s going on, and as she’s sat down at the table, the first thing she registers is the massive spread of food laid out in front of her. It looks like way too much just to be for lunch for the three of them, but when she looks up, it’s just her mother sitting across from her— and Rachel quickly joins them, walking into the room from wherever she must have been when she made the announcement that she was done with her chore for the day.

“You did a good job today, Michelle. You went above and beyond my expectations.” Michelle feels her heart throb at that compliment, although it also makes her feel sick to her stomach. The praise is exactly what she had been thinking about earlier— yet she can still feel the backhanded nature of it in the second half of what Rachel had said. “I told your mother that you should get a special reward for that.”

“You really do seem to be adjusting to life here,” her mother says, and Michelle does her best not to contradict her or to glare at her from across the table when she says it.

Can ‘not thinking about killing yourself every second of every day’ count as adjusting? Well, considering the circumstances she finds herself in, maybe it does. She’s not exactly an expert on things like this, after all.

Though she has a feeling she will be, by the time this is over.

She knows from the moment she sits down that there has to be some kind of trick or catch to all of this. The food spread out in front of her looks and smells delicious, and it’s enough to tempt even her cum-filled belly, but her mother and Rachel are looking at her expectantly.

Is there some trick to what’s inside of the food? More importantly, does she even really care? They’re not going to kill her— the worst they could do is drug her so they can do with her as they please, but how is that any different from what they do when she’s conscious?

Instead of waiting for the other shoe to drop, Michelle decides to take a leap forward into whatever the trap might be and picks up her fork, digging into the plate of food in front of her.

She had no idea how hungry she was until the first bite of food got into her mouth. Sure, her stomach is full of cum, but no matter how high protein that may be there isn’t any substance to it, and she hasn’t had a real full meal since coming to the island three days ago. The food in front of her isn’t quite as familiar to her as the stuff for breakfast was— and there’s a lot more leafy greens than she would usually choose for herself, if she was making her own meals— but it’s a five start gourmet meal as far as she’s concerned.

Michelle manages to polish off her plate and her mother fills it up again as soon as she does. Michelle starts to say that she doesn’t need a second helping, but she realizes a moment later that she might not get a chance to eat like this again for a while— she never knows what kind of torments Rachel is going to inflict on her next— and her stomach is still growling at the sight of the food in front of her.

It wouldn’t be right to just ignore her own hunger, would it?

She’s halfway through that second plate when the other shoe finally drops.

“Michelle… Rachel and I have something very important to tell you.”

“The two of us are going to get married.”

Michelle knows that Rachel must pick that moment on purpose to tell her, so she can watch her choke on a mouthful of the salad she’s eating, her eyes practically bugging out of her head.

She manages to clear her airways— without any help from her mother or from Rachel, who are still sitting on the other side of the table, her mother looking a little concerned but Rachel keeping a hand on her shoulder to stop her from interfering— and she looks up at the two of them to see if this is just some kind of elaborate trick they’re playing on her because they want to see her reaction.

There’s no sign of that, though. Her mother looks perfectly sincere, and Rachel just has this little placid smile on her face that gives away absolutely nothing.

For a moment, Michelle feels like her world is about to crumble around her…

Until she realizes that it doesn’t matter.

She’s already trapped here with Rachel no matter what, regardless of the legal status of her and her mother. Even if she were to somehow get away, she’d have no money, no way to get home, and nowhere to go even if she did manage to do so.

Even though her heart sinks at the idea of her mother marrying someone who has been so horrible to her this entire time…

Does it really matter, when she’s already betrayed her and handed her over to Rachel?

“Oh…” She finds it hard to look them in the eye, even as the anxiety about their announcement washes away, but she manages to choke out the words a moment ago she would have thought were impossible. “Congratulations… Is there going to be a ceremony?”

Her mother looks totally shocked by her reaction, but that shock quickly turns to a smile. Maybe she thinks Michelle is starting to feel the way she clearly thinks she’s supposed to be feeling— happy about this twisted arrangement they find themselves in.

Even Rachel smiles a bit wider, but it’s accompanied by a glint of the eye that is anything but sincere.

“No, we couldn’t think of anyone we wanted to invite who isn’t already here with us,” Rachel answers on her mother’s behalf. “So we’re just bringing in an official to get us the right paperwork. You’re going to have to witness it, of course.”

Michelle nods. It’s just one more chore on top of the other things that she wants her to do. Nothing more, nothing less.

“That’s not the only news that we have, though.” Her mother is practically vibrating in her chair as she looks to Rachel, as if asking for permission to continue. When Rachel nods, she squeals like an excited schoolgirl who has just been given free concert tickets, or been asked out by the boy she likes. “Rachel wants to adopt you!”

Michelle really should be more upset about this, the more she thinks about it. Instead, all she feels is numb on the inside. None of this matters. It doesn’t change her situation at all. She’s already hit rock bottom and there’s no further down for her to go, no matter how many painful or humiliating things Rachel decides to put her through.

She’s even found a small light in the darkness of her life. Really, she might not like it, but she’s starting to make peace with it.

Right now all she really wants to do is wash up and sleep.

“That’s… Exciting.” It’s the most truthful answer she can give, because even in this situation lying seems like the kind of thing she would get in trouble for. She doesn’t have to mean good exciting, though. “Is there anything you need me to do?”

“About the wedding and the adoption? No.” Rachel tilts her head, her eyes flicking up and down Michelle like she’s trying to figure out where all of these sudden changes in her personality are coming from, as though she’s going to see it reflected on the outside.

In truth, Michelle thinks that she’s mostly just tired. It’s like when you’ve been crying your eyes out for days over something upsetting that happened to you; after a while, even if that thing still makes you sad when you think about it, you’ve just run out of tears to be able to cry.

“I do want you to make dinner, though. Your mother has worked hard making breakfast and lunch and she deserves a break,” Rachel says. “When it comes time for everything else, we’ll let you know. It might be tomorrow or the day after— we’re not sure yet.”

You know exactly what it’s going to be. You just want me to be constantly on edge until then. Well, I’m not going to give you the satisfaction.

“Of course. Where do you want me to go until then?”

Rachel is clearly not used to Michelle behaving herself so much. Of course, she had never been much of a fighter— just didn’t have the personality for it— but she had always just let Rachel pull her around everywhere, had just been a plaything for her to use as she pleased. She never asked questions, never took any initiative, just acted hollow and broken.

She feels more hollow and broken than ever right now, but maybe accepting that fact has made it a little easier for her to act like a human in spite of it.

“Right now? I think you should go wash yourself up.”

“She just took a bath this morning, dear…”

“I know. But you spent a lot of time cleaning the kitchen, I don’t want her dirtying it up again.”

“Don’t you think you should help her?”

“I think she can manage a shower by herself. Or a bath, if her legs aren’t feeling up to it.”

The idea of getting to bathe herself instead of having to be bathed by Rachel— in part for the power play of it, in part to make sure she doesn’t try to drown herself or something like that— is a pretty enticing one, and Michelle rises from the chair and bows her head to her mother and Rachel. It’s not something she’s ever thought to do before— she’s not from a culture that would normally do that kind of thing— but she doesn’t have a skirt to be able to do a proper curtsy, so it’s going to have to do for now.

“Thank you for the delicious food.” She still has a little less than half a plate left, but after eating a full one already, she doesn’t think they have any reason to give her shit for not finishing her food.

Michelle feels numb as she leaves the kitchen, heading for the stairs and wondering if this small bit of freedom she’s being offered is a reward for good behaviour or if it’s meant to build up to something even worse. Either way, the numbness she feels now is different from the numbness she’s been feeling for a while.

It feels less like a defence mechanism, and more like her body is just starting to grow accustomed to the feeling. Like when you finally manage to break in a new pair of shoes and walking in them feels like the most natural thing in the world, compared to how awkward and painful it felt when you first put them on.

Michelle makes her way upstairs to the bathroom. She opts for the shower, because her stomach does weird flips remembering that morning in the tub, and because surprisingly enough she feels perfectly competent to stand on her own two feet and wash herself in spite of the fact that she just fucked a veritable pack of dogs who were all trained to be bestiality porn stars.

When she turns on the hot water and steps into it, she lets out a deep sigh of relief. The hot water on her skin feels like it’s washing away more than just the dirt and dog slobber and cum that’s crusted itself onto her, but she can’t put her finger on what it is, exactly.

The bathroom door opens. None of the rooms in this house have locks, even the bathroom, not that she would have tried to lock it even if she could, except maybe purely out of habit. She knows she would just get in trouble for it, and Rachel would have all of the keys anyway.

Rachel stands in the doorway but doesn’t say anything, just leans against the door frame and stares at her. Michelle doesn’t acknowledge her, and has every reason not to, because she currently has shampoo in her hair and she’s very carefully washing it out.

No need to get soap in her eyes.

Although she would love to linger in the shower, with Rachel standing there and watching her she doesn’t think that’s an option, so she finishes washing her hair and body until she’s just as squeaky clean as she had been when Rachel was done with her but without the viciously stinging red skin. When she steps out, Rachel hands her a clean towel, and Michelle murmurs an instinctive ‘thank you’ as she starts to wring out her hair and dry her body, making no move to cover herself any more than she has to just to dry herself off.

When she’s mostly dry, she wraps the towel around her head to keep her hair tightly wound and drying instead of wrapping it around her body. Walking around naked isn’t really any different to how she normally walks around in the elaborate harness Rachel makes her wear, after all. Both of them are equally revealing.

“I would have thought you’d be a little more… Reactive to me becoming your new mom, you know. At first I thought you were just putting on a good show for Lynn’s sake, but it looks like you really don’t care.”

“I’m happy if the two of you are happy,” she answers automatically. “And it’s not as though there’s anything I can do or say about it, so why would I want to waste my energy just doing something I’m going to get in trouble for?”

“You’re becoming very mature. Only a few days here and you’re already starting to understand how things work around here. I’m sure your mother must be very proud.”

Her mother must be something, but Michelle isn’t sure that ‘proud’ is the right word.

Rachel follows her out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, but she doesn’t try to throw her down on the bed or anything of that sort. Instead she waits for Michelle to be reaching for her harness, before she reaches out and takes it from her.

“Go around naked for now,” she says. “I’m going to get this cleaned and treated for you. It smells like a barn.”

And whose fault would that be, she thinks but doesn’t say out loud, instead just nodding in response to Rachel’s command.

Rachel lets out a low chuckle.

“How many people in this world would kill for an obedient daughter like you,” she coos with false praise, and Michelle just murmurs another thank you.

Rachel wraps her arms around her from behind, holding her close. She can feel Rachel’s cock pressing against her ass, but surprisingly her tormentor doesn’t try to fuck her standing up or anything like that; Rachel’s hands merely find their way to her breasts, fondling them the way a child would play with a favourite toy while she slips her cock between Michelle’s plump thighs.

The way she thrusts between them seems more like she’s doing so out of boredom or a need of something to do than with any real intent, and Michelle instinctively reaches down to cup her hand around the head, stroking Rachel’s cock as it fucks between her legs. There’s a bit of oversensitive pain to the way she rubs against her with each thrust, but Michelle ignores it. It’s nothing compared to the usual pain that she’s in, after all.

“Yes… So good and obedient.” Rachel purrs right into her throat, a kiss and a nip at the sensitive skin there making Michelle shudder. Rachel’s cock is dripping wet. “I was watching you while you did your chore. Did you have fun?”

“...I like the dogs,” is the safe answer as far as Michelle is concerned.

“Good. It looks like the dogs like you too. Just remember you have to take care of everyone, not just them.”

“Of course.”

“Good girl.” Rachel leans in to ghost her breath across Michelle’s ear, and Michelle shudders. She’d like to say it’s disgust, all things being equal, but in truth it’s nothing more than a basic physical reaction to the difference in temperature.

Rachel angles her cock upwards so it brushes more insistently against Michelle’s sensitive clit with every thrust. Michelle inhales sharply through her teeth at the oversensitive pain, but does her best to simply ignore it, furrowing her eyebrows.

If Rachel is going to get her off, there’s not much she can do to stop it, unless her body has well and truly decided that it can’t handle one more orgasm. It’s not even a conscious resistance, wanting not to give Rachel the satisfaction— she’s just too tired to squirm and put up much of a fuss regarding the pain.

“Which one of them has been your favourite so far, hm?” Rachel purrs right into her ear, as she nips at the soft lobe. Michelle lets out a small sigh. She’s thankful it sounds more pleased than exasperated.

Rachel wants a thoughtful answer to her question, and so she doesn’t pressure Michelle for an instant answer. Michelle, of course, would love to tell her that she’s hated every single one— but if she has to pick a favourite?

Well, even if Rachel already knows that she likes the dogs, it wouldn’t be a cop out for her to tell her that she has a particular favourite among them, right?

Michelle squeezes her thighs just a bit harder together, and Rachel shudders against her. Her thrusts between her thighs, which had been lazy and idle just a moment ago, pick up in pace as the tighter grip allows her to get off that much more.

“Th-there was this one dog…” Michelle begins to mutter. Is the flush high in her cheeks the result of her shame over admitting something like that, or is it because of her body remembering the feeling of how Marshmallow had treated her?

In comparison to Rachel, he had been so good and gentle with her, even though he’s a dog subject to nothing more than his base instincts and Rachel is a human being who should be able to control herself…

“Tell me about him.” Rachel’s voice is getting rougher as her thrusts become more insistent. She’s obviously getting off on Michelle’s answers to her questions.

“H-he was white and fluffy… I think the breed is called a samoyed…?” Michelle swallows instinctively past the lump in her throat. “I-I don’t know what his name was, but he reminded me of a dog I used to really like when I was little, so I was calling him Marshmallow…”

“Marshmallow… What an adorable name.” The way Rachel’s voice is dripping sounds much like the way you would hear a person coo over something adorable a toddler did, but it takes on a sinister tone when combined with the sloppy noises of her pre-cum lubing the way for her cock to thrust between Michelle’s thighs. “Did Marshmallow make you feel good, sweetheart?”

“H-he did,” Michelle admits somewhat reluctantly, only because she knows Rachel won’t leave her alone until she gets what she wants.

“They could all make you feel that good if only you let them. I could even show you a few special videos that show you just how good they are at making women lose their minds with pleasure.”

Michelle doubts that most of those videos are of women losing their minds with pleasure without the slightest hint of acting. Even at her age, she knows enough to know that porn isn’t exactly the best place to learn about what actually feels good, particularly if you’re a woman— although the things Rachel has done to her so far have been far more unbelievable than any of the things that have been done to women in any of the porn she’s watched, at least of her own free will.

So instead of saying anything in response to Rachel, she just lets out a high-pitched whine that she hopes serves as enough of an answer to a question she hasn’t really asked.

Rachel’s breath is coming harder and faster, just like her thrusts. Her fingers dig that much harder into Michelle’s sensitive breasts, and she feels wobbly on her feet, leaning back against Rachel for some sense of stability.

If nothing else, Rachel feels sturdy behind her. Is this the kind of thing that had drawn her mother towards her in spite of the degeneracy? With Rachel, you certainly had to be wary of whatever she wanted from you— but as far as Michelle had seen, you could depend on her to be consistent, if nothing else.

“You could just make all of this so much easier for yourself if you gave in, you know.” The growl right in her ear is turning aggressive, as if she’s abandoned all pretense of being sweet and gentle in the name of convincing Michelle to see things through her eyes. “You’re so talented at this— you take all of my instructions and all of the cock so beautifully. And yet, you seem to be more interested in being in pain and misery. You know this is your life now… Why keep resisting?”

Michelle fully understands what Rachel is saying to her. It makes all of her internal organs flip and flop around inside of her, and she would be lying if she said those weren’t the same thoughts going through her mind recently.

Not the part about how good she is at living a life like this— that’s not something she’s willing to admit quite yet, not even to herself— but the part about how much easier it would be if she just gave him and stopped fighting against it.

Her hopes have been thoroughly crushed, and there’s no way she’s going to wake up from this nightmare… So why hasn’t she just stopped trying yet?

Inertia, if she’s being honest with herself, is driving her far more than her pride at this point. Contrary to what it may sound like, giving in would actually take quite a bit of effort— the effort it would take to rewrite her brain into thinking of herself differently, and of thinking of Rachel differently.

But the longer her new life on the island goes on, the more her resistance equates to suffering, the more the idea of giving in and letting herself become what Rachel wants her to be sounds appealing.

“You know, as far as I’m concerned… I think you were born for this. To be a perfect little cock sleeve for me and any animal I think is worthy of fucking you.”

Michelle can’t think of any words that spring to mind when she says that, just a creeping sense of discomfort and horror— so instead of responding, she just whines again.

Rachel must have gotten turned on quite a bit watching her with the dogs, and riled herself up even more with all of her talk about making Michelle submit, because it only takes her a few more thrusts between Michelle’s thighs before she’s cumming, letting out a huffed breath of pleasure right in her ear. Michelle strokes her all the way through her orgasm, until she can feel Rachel start to soften between her legs.

She doesn’t see a need to clean up a second time after that. Barely any mess was made at all. Rachel merely gives her a firm pat on the ass and guides her towards the door.

“Go get started on dinner,” she says in spite of the fact they just finished having lunch, but Michelle doesn’t try to argue, just nods and heads for the stairs. Maybe she wants her to make something elaborate and time-consuming.

She doesn’t even realize that the entire time, Rachel is watching with a careful eye to see how well she’s moving after her chores, and has no idea about the pleased smile Rachel has on her face.

Chapter Text

Rachel has a lot of friends in high places. Most of them had been shocked when she had suddenly decided to quit her job and move to a private island after winning the lottery. She had always been so dedicated to her career, and it had never seemed to be about the money, so why was she so suddenly eager to leave the corporate world behind?

Of course, there were a few that were on the same wavelength as her and understood perfectly why she would want to get out when she did, why she would want to run off to a distant corner of the world and hide away.

One such a person is her friend Monica. A promising, high-flying corporate lawyer who she had met when her company kept her on retainer, she had realized quickly that the tow of them had similar interests, and were similarly held back from being able to pursue them by the fact that they had to pretend to be totally ordinary, upstanding members of society.

After a nice, hearty dinner that Michelle had prepared expertly in spite of the fact that Rachel had never seen her cook anything but bacon and eggs before (not that she had ever asked her to make anything but bacon and eggs before, so maybe that was her own fault for assuming the girl just didn’t have the knowledge or skills to do something more complicated), the three women had retired to their room to enjoy each other’s company and bodies until they had fallen asleep. The morning had been a little more rushed than most after the three of them had slept in, because they had gone three rounds before being too exhausted to continue; Michelle had fallen asleep with a pussy and ass full of Rachel’s cum and her mother’s pleasure juices smeared on her face, and Lynn was quite content with her own cum-filled stomach, while Rachel was starting to feel a little drained.

Of course, that was only natural after she had bounced Michelle on her cock like a doll, enjoying the way her tits bounced freely and listening to her cries as Lynn held her hips and helped Rachel to lift her and drop her back down, and then had made out with Lynn over the top of Michelle’s body as Rachel had fucked her tight little ass and Lynn had forced her daughter’s face into her crotch so she could eat her own, which Michelle was not nearly as good at as she was at sucking cock, but Lynn had seemed pleased enough with the results regardless.

In that moment, Rachel had said exactly what had come to her mind:

“The three of us are going to be such a happy family.”

The only reason Rachel had let Michelle have a little break was because Lynn had practically pounced on her as soon as she came, obviously turned on by that declaration because she had confessed that was all she ever wanted numerous times, eagerly wanting to swallow her cock, and who was she to say no to that? Better to let Lynn have her fun where she wanted to have it, so she didn’t start questioning why she had chosen to go along with Rachel’s depravity in the first place— it was too late for her to do much about it, but it was better to keep her happy.

After that, she had been too tired to continue on. Michelle had fallen asleep— though she normally either tossed and turned restlessly or passed out, this time she had fallen asleep strangely peacefully, as though regularly exhausted rather than pushed to the absolute brink of her body’s abilities. It showed that she was getting stronger with each passing day, getting used to her life on the island just like Rachel knew she would. Rachel, on the other hand, is certainly not getting any younger, and though she has the stamina of a woman a decade younger than she is, it still isn’t limitless.

Maybe she would have to rethink her policy regarding those very intriguing pills that she had taken during the week Michelle had stayed with her. Even if she doesn’t have to rush everything now like she did then, she would hate to miss out on any of the fun.

Still, in spite of the setback, the three women had managed to make themselves presentable by the time Monica arrives on the same boat that had brought Lynn and Michelle less than a week ago. Rachel is dressed not entirely unlike she had used to dress for big corporate meetings, because even though she’s retired now, the last thing she wants is for anyone— very much including Monica— to think she doesn’t know how to take things seriously.

This is a very serious matter that her friend is here to discuss, after all.

Lynn is dressed like a very well-made housewife. Her dress is prim and perfectly starched, and her makeup is smart and subtle. She had asked Rachel if she could wear a wedding dress, but Rachel had told her she would look beautiful no matter what she wore, and a real bridal gown wouldn’t arrive in time; when Lynn had been upset about that, she had happily told her that she would get her a wedding dress she could wear any time she wanted, and that she even had a few ideas for how she could use one to spice up their sex life.

That had kept the older of her two pets happy, and had motivated her to do everything she could to make sure everything was perfectly in order for Monica’s arrival.

Michelle has been both the easiest and most difficult part of the entire morning. Rachel doesn’t think she’s heard a sound out of her mouth since she had made her orgasm for the sixth time the night before, when she had finally run out of screams and could only pathetically croak to the ceiling.

Michelle isn’t usually a big talker, so that shouldn’t concern her, but for some reason it does. Maybe it’s just the fact that she wants to put their best foot forward when it comes to Monica, but at least she doesn’t have to worry about Monica thinking anything is amiss.

She already knows exactly what’s going on here, after all. Part of the reason she managed to convince her old friend to fly out on such short notice— aside from the promise of a very lucrative paycheck— is because Monica is eager to see what she’s done with her newfound freedom and lack of restraint.

Michelle is dressed up nicely, too, with clothes that Rachel had bought specifically in case they ever needed to bring her out amongst normal people. A button-up shirt that actually fits and isn’t completely straining to hold in her chest, although it still fits tight across her massive bust, and a skirt that’s long enough that it wouldn’t be inappropriate to wear in public but still short enough to show off her beautiful thighs makes for the perfect outfit for her to wear while greeting Rachel’s friend.

Not that the clothes are going to stay on her for long, she assumes, but at least she can say she’s put her best foot forward when it comes to this entire procedure. No one would be able to accuse her otherwise.

“Monica! So good to see you. I hope your flight was alright.”

“Not the most impressed first class I’ve ever flown, but I more than managed.”

Monica is careful to walk across the wooden walkway and not through the sand, because her high-heels and stockings almost certainly wouldn’t appreciate that trek. Michelle makes sure to meet her halfway so the two of them can hug and exchange cheek kisses, while the men on the boat look at Rachel like they’re asking what they should do.

“You can head back to shore. We’ll call you when we need you to come back.” Rachel has carefully vetted all of the people who are allowed on her island, but the last thing she wants is for anyone to suddenly grow a conscious if they see the reality of what’s actually going on behind closed doors. She doesn’t want to give a reason why anyone would have to see anything that’s not meant for their eyes.

The men nod and make to unmoor their boat and head back to the mainland. Rachel slings her arm across Monica in a friendly gesture as the two of them make their way up to the house.

“You have a lovely place here,” Monica comments, looking up at the building and out across the expanse of the private white sand beach. “I can see you’re spending your money well.”

“How else would I spend it?” The two of them give a corporate laugh at that as Rachel opens the door and invites Monica inside.

Lynn and Michelle are waiting in the kitchen, Michelle standing by the back wall with her hands folded in front of her and looking much more like the maid of the household than a member of the family, but she can deal with that little issue later.

She’s starting to wonder if she’s done too good a job at teaching her to be small and insignificant, to only do what she’s told, but that sounds crazy for her to even think about. Of course she’s done a good job; it’s crazy to think that she’s done her job too well when Michelle is acting the exact way she wants her to.

Lynn, on the other hand, is sitting at the table. There are freshly baked cookies sitting and waiting for them, and both coffee and tea to accompany the proceedings. It seems like Lynn has always had some kind of dream about being a housewife instead of working for a living, or maybe she’s started feeling that way ever since her job started being one of the most stressful parts of her life.

“Monica, this is my fiancée Lynn, and her daughter Michelle. Lynn, Michelle, this is my friend Monica.”

“Pleased to meet both of you.”

Lynn rises from her seat to shake Monica’s hand, and Monica gives her a nice firm handshake, but Rachel can tell that from the moment they enter the room, the person that intrigues Monica the most is Michelle.

Michelle has her eyes downcast, staring at her shoes— the first ones she’s been allowed to wear since she came to the island— but Rachel knows she’s too observant not to notice when someone is staring at her.

Hoping to avoid Lynn realizing how interested in Michelle Monica is, Rachel is quick to invite Monica to take a seat, and she takes her own next to Lynn across the table from her.

Work talk is certainly enough to distract Monica from looking at Michelle temporarily as she pulls papers out of her briefcase and lays them carefully on the table, making sure to avoid any chance of knocking over a hot cup of coffee or tea.

“These papers will apply only to your US citizenship, although I heard from Rachel that the three of you aren’t planning on revoking that?”

“I have an agreement with the local government,” Rachel immediately explains. “We may have to take temporary trips back there are some point to satisfy our VISA requirements, but hopefully not often.”

“Well, you’ll be set from a Stateside perspective if I can just have you sign here, here, and here.”

Monica puts the papers in front of them, and she can hardly put a pen in Lynn’s hand fast enough before she’s signing everywhere she’s told without reading a single word of the dense legalese on the page in front of her.

Rachel reads a bit more carefully before committing her signature to the page. She trusts Monica, helped her draft up these documents herself to ensure that it’s all to her liking, but it’s an instinct she’s never going to be able to suppress and Monica doesn’t seem to take any offense to it.

All of this paperwork is going to need to be filed and a proper marriage certificate is going to need to be sent to them by private courier from Monica’s office when she gets back to the states, but as far as Rachel is concerned, as soon as she finishes signing on the last of the dotted lines, she’s officially a married woman.

Never thought I would end up saying that, she thinks, but at the same time, she can’t help but feel a little satisfied as Lynn leans into her and lets out a contented sigh.

Rachel puts an arm around her wife’s shoulders and offers her a little rub and a pat. It’s funny how the small gesture doesn’t feel half as forced as her usual shows of affection towards Lynn. Maybe the woman is growing on her even more than she thought she would be.

“Excellent. Michelle, if you could come over here, I just want you to sign here for the witness statement.”

Monica will be the other witness, and Michelle almost robotically makes her way over to the table and takes the pen that Monica offers.

She doesn’t bother to sit down, and Monica just pushes the papers vaguely in her direction, forcing Michelle to bend over to be able to sign. It’s clearly intentional; Monica is none too subtle about the way she looks at Michelle’s ass, tightly pressed against the skirt that she’s wearing, or the way she looks down her shirt when it strains against her breasts and one of the buttons comes undone.

Michelle continues to act like she doesn’t notice the way she’s being ogled, and Lynn is too busy snuggling up to Rachel, very contented by the fact that the two of them are now legally married, to be able to take any notice of it herself.

Rachel smiles.

“Well, there is one more thing we have to take care of,” she says, gesturing vaguely towards Monica’s briefcase. Monica only then seems to realize that she still has business to tend to and she can’t just spend the rest of her visit staring at Michelle’s ass; she pulls out the second set of legal documents that Rachel asked her to bring.

The sheets are much more whimsical looking than the ones for the marriage. There’s a blue border with little cartoon bones around it, and a cartoon dog at the top of the page.

Rachel had designed it herself. The page looks exactly the way she remembers the adoption form from her local animal shelter looking— but the info on the page is very much copied from the legal adoption foms she had found on the government website.

She isn’t sure it’s going to fly to file it at a legal office in the states, but she’s sure Monica can copy the info over to another document if she needs to. Rachel wants the copy that belongs to the three of them to look like this one, though.

She watches the way Michelle’s face seems to fall at the sight of the page, before she schools it back into a dull indifference, like it doesn’t matter who does what to her and when.

Just like Rachel has trained her.

“Lynn, you’re Michelle’s only legal guardian, yes?”

“Mm. Her father was never in the picture. It was just the two of us all alone until Rachel came along and took us under her wing.” Another satisfied sigh as she cozies even closer up to Rachel, who just offers her another pat. “It’s been so nice to have a real family. I’m excited to make it official.”

“Good, I’m glad to hear that. You’re just going to need to sign here and fill out some information. Rachel gave me most of the basics, but there were a few things she didn’t know.” Monica hands the page over to Lynn, along with her pen, and Lynn immediately starts to fill out the form, having to squint at the page in a few places because her eyes aren’t what they used to be.

Rachel pretends to be interested in the contents of the form in spite of the fact that she was the one who made it, only needed Monica to confirm that everything was in order and be the one to sign off on it at the end. Monica didn’t even need to be here to do this, but she had insisted on it, and Rachel can see why.

She isn’t simply curious about the island or the lifestyle she’s living now; she has a very personal interest in Michelle. It makes Rachel wonder if her old friend was one of the people who was watching Lynn and Michelle’s welcome home livestream that first night, the one she had made sure would make it into the hands of all of Michelle’s former classmates so she would never be able to return to a normal life even if she did manage to get away, crushing any hopes and dreams she might have had in that regard.

While Lynn is filling out the form and Monica thinks Rachel is watching her do so intently, she starts to get bold. Reaching out, she plants a hand on Michelle’s ass.

Michelle startles, but only for a moment. Getting groped is something that happens to Michelle every day. Any time Rachel has her hands on her, it’s usually grabbing at her ass or her breasts or her cunt, and any time Rachel doesn’t have her hands on her it’s normally because she’s doing something even more intimate and violating to her.

If anything, the fact that she’s getting groped through clothes might feel strange to her, since she’s surely grown used to being grabbed when naked by this point.

Monica is acting like she’s doing something she isn’t sure she’s allowed to be doing, like a child that knows she might get in trouble but can’t resist the urge in spite of that. Rachel finds the idea cute, and wonders if she was ever that meek and mild when it came to her actions with the girls who she most preferred.

When Monica glances over out of the corner of her eye to see if Lynn and Rachel are still occupied filling out the form, she finds that Rachel is staring right at her with a little smile on her face. It startles her, and she immediately pulls her hand away from Michelle’s ass.

Rachel doesn’t acknowledge that at all. Instead she turns her attention towards Michelle and gives her a little smile, too, but with a devious glint in her eye.

“Michelle, why don’t you make our special guest feel a little more welcome?” she suggests.

Michelle nods meekly. The suggestion doesn’t even surprise her or catch her off-guard. Rachel really should give herself a pat on the back for training her so well. Lynn had been right when she had told her it would just take Michelle some time to settle in and get used to the change.

Maybe in time she’ll even learn to like it. Rachel is hoping that will be some time soon. She likes that Michelle is suffering; she gets off on it, in fact. But it’s always been a dream of hers to have a totally obedient slave under her heel who will beg her to use them like her own personal toy because it’s the only thing they want in their own pathetic, miserable lives.

Lynn already fills some of that niche, but she’s far too old to fulfill Rachel’s dream entirely. It just helps to soothe the itch while she waits for Michelle to get to that point as well.

Michelle starts undoing the buttons of her shirt. Monica’s eyes go wide with surprise and she looks at Rachel as if asking if this is okay or not, glancing in Lynn’s direction.

Lynn is still occupied with the forms, but Rachel just nods and gestures towards Michelle as if to say, ‘Go ahead and help yourself’.

Once given proper permission, Monica seems to have no interest in holding herself back— but instead of pouncing on Michelle like Rachel half expects her to do, she simply pushes her chair out and pushes her skirt down.

The bulge at the front of her panties which are almost failing to hold her cock back is obvious, and Michelle swallows hard. Rachel wants to reassure her that it’s not as big as her own, that Michelle will do fine since she’s been handling bigger all this time, but it would be rude to say that about her close friend’s cock.

She’ll just let Michelle figure that one out for herself.

Although she hesitates for another moment, Michelle goes back to unbuttoning her shirt before letting it fall off. Underneath, she’s not wearing a bra, something that would have been more obvious if her shirt hadn’t been so tight that it kept her voluptuous breasts well in place, and if her harness underneath didn’t do a good job of giving her a little bit of extra support for her massive tits.

Her skirt follows quickly, and naturally she’s not wearing any underwear beneath it. The remnants of the one chance they had gotten to ‘connect’ before Monica’s arrival that morning is dripping from between her legs, white cum running down her inner thighs.

She doesn’t bother to kick off her shoes, which is fine. Instead she kneels down next to Monica and reaches for the waistband of her panties.

As soon as her panties are tugged down, that massive cock springs free. Rachel can see the realization that she should be able to handle it dawn on Michelle, and the little bit of confidence that she has— confidence, at least, that she can use the skills Rachel has taught her to do as she’s told, even if she hates every second of it— returns to her.

Michelle isn’t completely silent as she leans in and gets her mouth on Monica’s cock. Monica doesn’t seem to be interested in trying to hold herself back, either. She lets out a low moan at the sensation, before a second later realizing that she has no idea if she was allowed to do that or not.

This time, Rachel just laughs openly and freely.

“You look so tense, Monica. Don’t be so wound up. We’ve done a lot of work teaching Michelle to respect her elders and make sure to be thankful for everything she’s given. She’ll make sure to thank and greet you properly. Right, Lynn?”

“Hm?” Lynn glances up from the paperwork for the first time since it was handed over to her, and seems to realize at just that moment that her daughter is on her knees for their guest, sucking and licking at the side of her cock. “Oh! Yes, Michelle is a good girl. She’ll do whatever you tell her to. Won’t you, Michelle?”

Michelle just moans against Monica’s cock instead of properly answering her mother. It still serves as enough of an answer for the two of them to be satisfied. Rachel and Lynn would much prefer for Michelle to focus on what she’s doing than worry about answering them ‘properly’, after all.

“Hah… You really do have a well-trained pup here, don’t you?” Monica smiles to herself, giggling lightly as if barely able to believe what’s happening.

Rachel can hardly blame her. When she had first started this crazy plan of hers, she thought for sure that it would never work— that no matter how much money and how many resources she had, surely everything would end up crashing and burning and she would end up on the run, hiding out in a foreign country without her carefully trained pet by her side.

To see how it’s all come together so perfectly and keeps coming together is nothing short of spectacular, and to be seeing it from the outside looking in must be even more wild.

Monica’s cock fits beautifully down Michelle’s throat. Of course, she’s used to taking far larger— not just Rachel’s but horse cock, which even she can’t hope to be able to beat, no matter how hung she is.

Lynn starts squirming in her seat. From this angle, it’s hard to see what Michelle is doing to their guest— Rachel has to lean slightly to the side to be able to see around the table that’s blocking part of their view— but whether she has a good angle to see from or whether it’s just the very obvious noises of Michelle sucking cock that she’s hearing, something is turning her on enough to have her squirming in place.

“Oh, Rachel…” Lynn sighs, but it’s not just contentment that’s in her voice. Rachel can hear the arousal, and from the way she’s squirming on her chair and squeezing her legs together, she knows that she’s starting to get worked up.

Rachel is far more interested in Michelle, but she knows that she should offer at least a little relief to her now wife. It’s only the polite thing to do, especially since Lynn has been instrumental in making all of this possible.

With one arm, Rachel slips her hand between Lynn’s thighs, pushing up her dress until she’s able to touch her through her panties. She’s already soaking wet, and she moans loudly as soon as Rachel touches her, even though from this angle and having barely done anything, there’s no way she could be making her feel that good yet.

Not that Rachel can blame her, when they have such a lovely sight on their hands— Michelle determinedly taking Monica’s cock, bobbing her head on it as though this is something she’s been doing her entire life.

It’s impressive to watch, and it makes Rachel proud. Lynn had been the one to raise Michelle, to nurture her and to turn her into the kind of girl who would end up in a situation like this in the first place, and Rachel had taken the lump of coal that was a socially awkward teenager whose body had started to grow wildly out of proportion with her mind and her heart, and had taught her precisely how to use it as a tool to please others— people who would make her life easier if only she could let go of her stubborn pride and give in to a life of being her beloved pet.

Though Rachel can’t sense any more enthusiasm about her position coming from Michelle, she has seemed to give in, going along obediently with what she’s told. Before, when that had happened, it had clearly been born out of fear— fear of being hurt or fear of having the promised punishments delivered, like having Rachel ruin her life.

Now, though, there isn’t much left for Michelle to fear. Rachel had expected more active resistance at first that she would have to carefully break down, but after nothing more than being a limp doll who could only show her displeasure for her situation by constantly crying and pretending not to be feeling any pleasure from the sex they were ‘inflicting’ on her, it seems as though she’s decided to accept her fate.

In time, she thinks that Michelle will even come to enjoy her lot in life— or will be convinced to enjoy it is perhaps a more accurate way of phrasing things.

Lynn writhes and moans on the chair next to her, and Rachel wishes she would be just a bit quieter so she could hear the sloppy noises coming from Michelle’s throat as she swallows around Monica but does not gag. Still, she isn’t going to ruin the moment by saying such a thing, instead thinking to herself that now she won’t have a single thing left to worry about when it comes to being able to enjoy such things— and with her own cock being the one to be sucked— forever.

Michelle is hers, on paper and not just in practice. Everything about her plan, no matter how far-fetched it had seemed when she had first been dreaming it up after winning her money, has fallen seamlessly into place.

It’s truly a dream come true, and now she gets to live it in real life.

Lynn pants and moans when Rachel slips two fingers into her. Lynn will get so overwhelmed with her own pleasure that she won’t even notice that Rachel is looking at Michelle and Monica instead of paying any attention to her, but that’s how it’s been from the very beginning.

All Lynn cares about is having someone to save her from her own terrible life choices, someone she thinks will love and protect her. True, Rachel will protect her from everything she seems to be most terrified of— most of which is just life— and she’s not certain she’s capable of loving anyone, but she can put on a good show of it for the woman who has made her plan so much easier.

But it’s clear enough to see that in spite of how much Lynn clings to her, or the fact that the two of them are legally married now (or will be once Monica takes her payment in the form of Michelle’s services and brings their documents back to the United States and files them on their behalf), the one that Rachel truly cares about is Michelle. It’s perhaps the closest thing she can even imagine to love, this attachment and infatuation she has with this girl.

“Ah… Rachel…” Lynn sighs right into her ear.

Rachel just makes a non-commital noise in return.

Across the table, Monica is having the time of her life. Surely she had never imagined that everything Rachel had told her would be one hundred percent true, with absolutely no boasting. But here she is— with a teenage girl who has clearly been well-trained, kneeling on the floor swallowing her cock as though it’s what she were born to do.

Unlike Rachel, Monica doesn’t have a lot of experience when it comes to this kind of thing. Sure, she’s dabbled a few times with call girls who are willing to pretend they’re a bit younger than they actually are or put on the catholic school girl uniform they all have to keep in their pile of clothes by default, but she’s never been the risk-taker that Rachel is, never been a mover and shaker on the same level as her good friend.

Having watched her live stream when she had introduced her two new pets to the kinds of people who would be shaking with envy rather than reaching for their phones to dial the cops (not that it likely would have done much good since it seems like Rachel has the locals well in her pocket, with promises of far more money than they can make thanks to their corrupt government’s broken economy being more than enough to keep them quiet about what’s going on on this mysterious private island), Monica had been sceptical, but the results speak for themselves.

She doesn’t do anything to signal to Michelle that she’s going to cum, but the girl seems to know what she’s looking for. Maybe it’s the way her cock twitches in her throat or the way her thigh muscles tense up as her pleasure starts to ramp up; maybe she grips her hair especially tight or grits her teeth especially hard, tensing her jaw in a way that would be impossible to miss.

Whatever it is, Michelle doesn’t try to pull away just because she knows Monica is about to cum. If anything, she dives in deeper. She had already been taking all of her massive cock down her throat like a champ, but now she speeds up and pulls off less as she does, making sure Monica is still in her throat even as she bobs her head.

It’s such an overwhelming and unbelievable feeling that her orgasm even catches her by surprise, and her eyes fly open with a cry as she coats Michelle’s throat in a thick layer of white.

Michelle swallows all of it with ease. Her cum slides down her throat and directly into her stomach, bypassing her mouth and tongue entirely so she doesn’t even have to taste it. All it leaves her with is a warm, full feeling in her belly, especially because it’s obvious that Monica has been pent-up, has been saving her seed for when she finally sets a chance to see if Rachel has just been bragging about the new life she gets to lead.

When she finally finishes, Michelle feels like she’s had a nice warm meal, and Monica feels like she’s been drained completely, slumping in her chair in a very unprofessional way.

Thankfully, she’s among friends here.

Rachel just smiles across the table at the perfect show Michelle put on, knowing that any problems she might have had have now disappeared completely. Monica was already a good friend who would do a lot of things for her that no one else in their right mind would have agreed to, but if she can promise her a repeat performance, or a chance to get at Michelle’s pussy or ass instead of just her mouth?

Monica would bend over backwards to do anything she wants, of that much she’s certain.

Everything is falling into place perfectly.

“Have a nice time?” she asks, unable to resist, and Monica just lets out a low groan. Michelle sits up a little so she’s kneeling with her back straight, using her sleeve to wipe a bit of drool from the corner of her mouth.

Aside from the fact that she’s naked with cum running down the inside of her thighs and her hair is all mussed from where Monica had grabbed it, Michelle looks perfectly composed. Totally the opposite of how she usually looks when Rachel is done with her, which makes Rachel feel proud for two reasons.

One, the fact that Michelle is capable of handling herself so beautifully because of the training Rachel has given her…

And two, the fact that she knows she can ruin Michelle far better than anyone else can hope to. Even if her cock ends up being something Michelle gets used to and doesn’t wreck her to take any longer, she has far more tricks up her sleeve, or lack thereof.

Rachel is so busy feeling smug about that, that she barely even notices Lynn cumming right next to her, in spite of the fact that her voice has been picking up. She gets louder and louder until she’s practically screaming right in Rachel’s ear, her hot cunt clenching around Rachel’s fingers and her hands coming to grab at Rachel’s wrist, as if trying to ask her to stop but also force her to keep going at the same time, the conflict of intense pleasure in spite of the fact that Rachel hasn’t been doing anything particularly special.

It’s just the overwhelming relief and sensation of finally being safe and secure, along with watching her daughter finally starting to come to accept and adjust to their new life, that makes her eyes roll into the back of her head and makes her cum hard on Rachel’s fingers.

Lynn slumps in her chair just like Monica is doing as soon as she cums, all of the tension in her body draining out all at once. She had been so desperate to make a good first impression so the whole thing would go smoothly, but she shouldn’t have been worried; of course Rachel would have everything in hand. She always does.

Rachel is the only one left without having cum, but that doesn’t matter much to her. She rises from her seat, her cock making an obvious bulge in her pants, but she does noting to address it and even less to hide it.

“See? I told you she’s a good girl who does as she’s told.” Rachel pats Michelle on the head as she walks past her, going to offer her hand to Monica to shake. “I hope that means we can count on you to take care of everything for us back home.”

Her friend blinks up at her, clearly still lost in the haze of her orgasm, but she reaches out to take her hand after a moment and give it a firm shake.

“You can count on me.”

As much as she would love to host Monica, she reminds her that she needs to be getting back home in a certain time frame to make sure everything is in order and to get back to her regular job.

“But the next time you actually remember to take a vacation instead of just working yourself into an early grave, we would be happy to have you,” Rachel says as she pats her friend on the shoulder, seeing her off towards the boat that she had called back to escort her back to shore.

That promise alone should be enough to keep Monica in their pocket for a while. A comforting thought.

As soon as her friend is gone, Rachel knows there’s really only one thing left to do to make the evening perfect— and that’s how she ends up in bed with Michelle and Lynn.

“Now, Michelle— we have some very special honeymoon plans, but we want them to be a surprise. We just need you to promise that you’re going to be a good girl and not put up a fuss tomorrow when we get them all set up, okay?”

As the three of them are in bed together after an exhausting day, in which Michelle showed off her skills so beautifully, it’s hard for Michelle to actually give Lynn an answer.

Mostly that’s because Rachel is crouching over her head and shoving her cock down her throat, fucking her face with the kind of wild abandon that makes it almost impossible for Michelle to even hear her mother, let alone be able to form a coherent answer. She’s too busy trying not to choke on the massive cock being fucked down her throat at an awkward angle that even after all of her training she’s not quite used to, though that same training keeps her from panicking and making the situation even worse for herself.

But Lynn doesn’t really need to hear an answer. Even if there have been moments where Michelle hasn’t shown the kind of reaction she wants to see from her, she knows how well-behaved and hardworking her daughter really is under the veneer of minor teenage rebellion.

Michelle won’t disappoint them on their very special day.

Chapter Text

Michelle isn’t sure that disappointing anyone is even really an option, and she knows that putting up a fuss like her mother had told her not to do isn’t something that would do her any good either. Not that it’s done her any good so far, but in a situation like this, it would be even less effective.

Maybe the only consolation she has is that this isn’t something that she can really screw up. All she has to do is let it happen, and although those are the hardest situations for her brain to accept, they’re also the easiest for her to actually accomplish.

Even if the sight of the strange harness contraption that has been made especially for this scenario looks incredibly intimidating to her.

Rachel stands next to a cream-coloured stallion that looks as big as the biggest horse she had taken at the farm, which was the last time she had done anything like this. The fact that she’s already done something like this before should bring her some kind of comfort, yet this new situation is so out there that she can’t help but be nervous.

There’s a big difference between being set up in a breeding contraption that’s designed to let a horse fuck her and something that’s strapped to the underside of a horse, the likes of which she’s never seen before.

“Don’t worry, Michelle; it’s perfectly safe. I got it from the same people who trained all of the animals you’ve been taking care of. I can even show you some videos of how it works, if you want to see.”

Rachel’s offer is surprisingly soft and considerate, all things considered, but Michelle just shakes her head.

“I-it’s okay.” Then, after swallowing the lump in her throat (and feeling her mother’s eyes burning holes into her as she recalls what she had said the night before when she had been getting face fucked so hard it’s a wonder she remembers anything at all), she adds, “...I trust you.”

It’s interesting that it doesn’t even feel like she’s lying just to make them happy when she says it. It’s not that she trusts Rachel in the same way she had once trusted her mother, or other adults in her life— not in the way that she thinks Rachel has her best interests in mind.

But the longer she’s under Rachel’s control, the more she’s come to understand her motivations, and what she wants from Michelle. The pleasure she gets not only from having control over her body and being able to use it for whatever purposes she desires, but also from controlling her emotionally and mentally, still feels like she’s being held prisoner by some kind of Saturday morning cartoon villain if they were transported into an X-rated show— but at least it makes sense to her now.

Rachel isn’t going to do anything that would jeopardize her health and safety without being absolutely certain that she can control the situation, because that would undermine all of the hard work she’s done to get Michelle to this place to begin with. She would have to start all over from the beginning with some other girl, and that would just be too much work when she already has her pet project close at hand.

Because of that, she knows that what she’s being asked to do— be strapped to the bottom of a horse with his cock fed into her while Rachel teaches her mother how to ride a horse as part of their honeymoon activities— must be safe, or safe enough that Rachel is willing to take the risk.

Michelle isn’t sure that’s enough to convince her panicked flight or fight brain, but she really doesn’t have any choice in the matter.

Better to just go along with it, right?

Rachel guides her to lie down on a bench that’s conveniently the perfect size for this, though she has a feeling there’s no coincidence to that. Michelle lifts and spreads her legs instinctively, and lets her eyes slide shut.

She doesn’t want to see this happening. If her mother and Rachel are even the slightest bit compassionate towards her— even if the idea of compassion combined with what’s been done to her so far is a hard pill to swallow regardless— then they won’t put up a fuss about it.

No one says anything, so she thinks she’s in the clear. Her mother even takes her glasses from her face.

“I don’t want these falling off and breaking. It would be so inconvenient to have to get you a new pair,” she says, and Michelle almost chokes out a laugh at the way her mother makes it sound so… Casual, as though the complexities of acquiring a new pair of glasses is really what Michelle should be worried about right now.

Maybe it should be. Maybe that’s the only kind of thing she should be worried about right now.

If this is going to be her life for the rest of imaginable time, then maybe she should focus more on not making things any harder for herself than they already are.

The stallion nickers above her as Rachel guides him into place, and Michelle keeps her eyes squeezed shut. Her legs are starting to shake from the anticipation and the awkward angle she’s keeping them held up at, but Rachel puts her hand on one of her thighs and her mother puts her hand on the other one, and suddenly it feels much easier.

The press of the large, flared head of a cock against her most sensitive parts makes any thought of easier fly right out the window, but Michelle holds her breath.

She knows she can do this. Rachel has already proven to her that she can do this. Failing to believe in herself will only make things worse for her, because it’s going to happen regardless of whether she thinks she can do it or not, and she’ll only make things harder for herself.

When the horse’s massive cock starts to press inside of her, Michelle keeps holding her breath even as her head starts to swim because of how little oxygen she has.

The horse’s cock is massive, of course. It’s probably close to the size of the biggest one she took when she was on the farm, if not bigger. Her body isn’t quite used to it, either; she’s made the mistake of avoiding the horse enclosure in her first few days of tending to the menagerie, figuring she could work her way up to them, getting her body used to taking massive animal cock again before she has to face that challenge.

Of course, she should have known that Rachel would have some other idea up her sleeve to get her to take horse cock again before she was ready, but at least this way someone else is controlling everything.

It’s easier that way. Part of her can understand why her mother fell for Rachel’s schemes because of that. If life is going to be so hard, then why not make it easier by just letting someone else make all of the decisions for you, even if that means you no longer have any kind of control over your own life?

Michelle lost control even when she didn’t have that benefit, so what’s the point in trying to cling to it?

She distracts herself so much with thinking about that philosophy that she doesn’t even realize the horse’s cock has breached her body until he takes a step forward and suddenly she’s so full that she can’t help but let her eyes fly open and gasp from the feeling of it.

When she has a horse cock in her, it’s hard for Michelle to breathe. Part of that is just the shock of her body taking something that it clearly hasn’t been designed to handle, the same way that getting suddenly hit in the head or stomach or chest can knock the wind out of you; it’s a panic response to a sudden stimulus that your body isn’t expecting.

Part of it is probably all in her head, too. It feels like the massive cock is pressing her organs out of the way and that they shouldn’t work the way they’re supposed to when her entire body is being turned into an animal cock sleeve, and so instinctively she stops breathing. Even after the training Rachel gave her to try and make sure that wouldn’t happen, it still takes her a few moments to remember that her lungs do in fact work and she doesn’t have to make herself black out by instinctively holding her breath.

Even if part of her thinks that blacking out would be a kindness in most of these situations she finds herself in, regardless of the punishment she might receive later for being ‘difficult’.

As soon as Michelle remembers to breathe, she finds it a little easier to bear, although that’s a lot like thinking your leg is broken in six places and finding out it’s only broken in four.

Her mother is standing beside her, she realizes after a moment— standing beside her and smoothing her hair back away from her face as she crouches next to her, making soothing noises as Rachel focuses on not only getting the horse cock into her, but strapping her into the contraption she’s bought.

The straps aren’t that different from the ones she’s work to be fucked while hanging from the air or just to keep her completely immobilized before, but the way she has to strain her muscles to be able to fit her legs around the horse that she’s going to be strapped to, and even her hands are taken to be strapped into the device so there’s no chance of her falling off and being trampled underfoot, means she’s much more uncomfortable than she was those times.

It feels like her limbs are going to be red-hot with exhaustion by the time she’s done, considering how much she has to spread herself around the horse, and they’re not even moving yet.

The straps do a little work to keep her body from taking all the strain, but it’s going to be painful all the same, especially with horse cock nestled snugly in her body.

“Such a good girl,” her mother coos at her. Michelle thinks she’s going to ruin her nice dress by kneeling in the dirt next to her, leaning in to draw her into a sloppy kiss that is obviously meant to be a sign of comfort, but considering the dress is almost completely sheer with only the slightest hint of colour to suggest it might be intended to be worn as actual clothing.

Most people would probably choose to wear something under it— it would make a nice dress to wear over a bathing suit while lounging at a fancy resort, she thinks, not that she’s ever had the chance to be to a fancy resort— but her mother has opted to wear nothing at all, except for the extravagant jewellery around her neck and wrists and the sheer dress on her bare body.

It actually makes her look like something out of one of those old-fashioned vintage porn books that women would read, like something you’d see on the cover of a harlequin romance novel, where the nudity would be tastefully covered by hands or limbs or folds of cloth but just enough would be showing so you would be able to tell the woman was naked under her see-through dress.

Meanwhile, as Rachel finishes strapping Michelle to the bottom of her horse and gives her a pat on the ass like she’s wishing her good luck, she doesn’t feel like the protagonist of anything at all.

Funny how that works, isn’t it?

Michelle whimpers as the horse nickers and moves. Although he can’t actually thrust into her— he’s too focused on walking and doesn’t have the leverage to be able to mount her properly, not to mention she would just go with him even if he did— the straps are designed to be able to give him a bit of leeway, and leaving her being shaken on the bottom of his body like one of those ridiculous infomercial exercise devices that people didn’t seem to realize made them look like they were giving someone a hand job.

In essence, it turns her into the perfect sex toy. With the way the straps are holding her, his body is taking the strain from her muscles, leaving her perfectly latched onto the bottom of his body and making quite sure that his cock won’t be able to leave her no matter how hard he runs or how much she squirms— but she will be able to be bounced on his cock by at least six inches, if her estimation is correct.

Not a lot in the grand scheme of how big his cock is, but considering that’s the full size of the average human penis (Rachel being a natural outlier in that regard), when you put it into perspective…

She might as well be a mounted fleshlight for Rachel’s beloved stallion.

Parts of her that she doesn’t think anything is supposed to be able to bump up against, because she’s pretty sure her body was never designed to take something this large into it, even if the training Rachel has given her will ensure that she doesn’t get completely torn up because of it.

She can’t see anything other than horse, and maybe a little bit of the landscape as she turns her head. She doesn’t even try to ask what the point of strapping her under here is. Rachel will simply tell her that it’s something she wants her to do, and that will be that; her mother will remind her of all of the good things Rachel has done for the two of them and tell her not to make a fuss.

At the very least Rachel hadn’t expected her to do her morning chores taking care of the other animals before she had been expected to do this. After the three of them had fallen asleep— meaning after Rachel had satisfied herself by fucking her mouth and cumming down her throat, like her friend had done earlier but much rougher— she had been allowed to sleep peacefully until morning, and had woken up tangled up with her mother, while Rachel had made breakfast for all three of them.

There had been a brief moment where it had felt like the three of them were an actual family, albeit a very fucked up one. Even a fucked up family would have been better than being treated like she was nothing more than Rachel’s personal toy, a temporary bit of entertainment to be thrown away the second she was no longer interesting, even if in practice she knows Rachel has put way too much time and effort into her to actually do something like that.

Now, she’s been brought back to reality. Out of the corner of her eye, she can just barely see her mother climbing up onto a pure white horse, smaller than the one she’s strapped to the bottom of, and she feels rather than sees Rachel get onto her own mount, because the horse takes a few correcting steps forward and his cock jostles inside of her, fucking into her by a few inches before she settles again, prompting her to whine.

Rachel hadn’t done anything to gag her at all, and Michelle doesn’t think she wants her to hold back the noises she’s making, so she doesn’t try. It’s not even a point of pride anymore; letting out the cries as Rachel gets her horse moving is just a matter of practicality.

Rachel already knows that’s in pain and overwhelmed, so who is it helping to try and hold herself back?

They start out the horseback ride nice and slow. Michelle knows that her mother has never ridden a horse before, and above her, she can hear Rachel giving her pointers and instructions while her mother asks nervous questions and giggles.

If it weren’t for the fact that Michelle were strapped to the bottom of Rachel’s horse with his cock shoved inside of her, making a mess of her insides with every step as she sobs under him, it would just look like a nice date.

Of course, it’s not long before the pain starts to turn to pleasure. If this were the first time Michelle had taken horse cock during her “adventures”, it surely wouldn’t feel good at all; it’s only because Rachel has trained her so thoroughly that her body can find the pleasure in the way it moves inside of her, even if the horse isn’t ravishing her the way the others had, desperate and crazy to shove their cocks into her. This one doesn’t have to be; Rachel has set her up to be his perfect cock sleeve, and she’s bounced on his cock with each movement, making her feel like a child being bounced on someone’s knee but in the worst way possible. He doesn’t even need to put in any effort; all he has to do is what Rachel tells him to do, moving under her commands lie he’s been trained to do (not entirely unlike Michelle herself), and he gets rewarded in the form of pleasure.

One thing Michelle has learned from her encounters with horses up to this point is that they have a lot of pre-cum. So much so that it feels like they’re actually cumming when in reality, it’s just meant to lubricate everything so to not cause pain or harm to their mate, though their bodies don’t take into account what it’s like when a human is on the receiving end of their cock. This is far beyond what nature ever intended, after all.

For Michelle, the pre-cum being pumped into her body leaves her feeling hot and full, although she has no idea where it’s all going when she’s already so full of horse cock. Her cries turn to whimpers as the heat seems to travel throughout her body, leaving her with the desire to squirm in place from the pleasure-pain of the cock inside of her.

Even if she could move very much beyond the way she bounces with each of his trots, it wouldn’t be a good idea. The harness keeps her in place for the most part, and it does so for her safety. Being fucked by a horse while stationary is dangerous enough, even when Rachel is keeping that horse fully under her control and is monitoring the entire situation without her focus being on anything else; doing so while moving and the horse is distracted by being given commands by a rider is far more dangerous.

It doesn’t matter, anyway. Michelle might have been trying to deny it for a while now, maybe even since the first day that she met Rachel, but it’s become a hard thing for her to ignore the longer she orbits around the older woman’s presence.

Michelle’s body is hungry, and no matter what her mind might have to say about the matter, her body is always going to win out in the end because Rachel continues to feed it.

She clenches around the massive cock settled in her cunt as a jolt of pleasure goes through her from the way it moves inside of her. The horse whinnies, and she hears Rachel soothing him, petting his snout and cooing at him affectionately.

“Michelle must be showing him a good time,” Rachel says, and Michelle hears her mother laugh, and all Michelle can do is whine again.

Either Rachel takes the horse’s reaction and Michelle’s noises as a sign to ramp things up an extra notch, or as per usual, she simply doesn’t care about Michelle’s feelings regarding the situation and is doing what she wants, the same as always.

“Okay, if you’re feeling confident with being able to lead your horse where you want him to go, then we’ll start picking up some speed.”

True to her word, the stallion that Michelle is mounted on— and not in the way one would think— picks up to a trot, and the added speed leaves her bumping against his chest and stomach as his cock bounces around inside of her.

His broad, powerful chest that moves in a way that shows just how fast he can move, and that’s at only a trot. Michelle’s mind immediately wanders to what it would be like to be strapped to him like this at a full gallop, and she can only whine at the thought of being bounced on his cock at such a rapid pace, how much it would turn her insides to jelly in both a good and bad way.

The feeling of his soft hair against her provides some small measure of comfort, too. She had thought he would feel scratchy and rough against her skin, but instead he feels as soft as Marshmallow’s fur— though she might feel differently later when she’s having to clean horse hair from her body and hair. Right now, her mind is going blank with pleasure and any potential consequences aren’t registering to her at all.

Unlike Marshmallow, who had been so gentle and had seemed to care about making her feel good, this horse doesn’t even know that she’s there. She might as well just be a toy for his pleasure at this point, which she supposes doesn’t make him very different from most human men— or from Rachel, for that matter.

Somehow, that thought combined with the pleasure of his cock pistoning in and out of her with each step the horse takes, and the feeling of his broad and powerful body pressed up against hers— or rather hers wrapped around his, to the point that even with the contraption Rachel has her strapped into, she still feels the strain in her muscles just from being so spread apart— pushes her closer to the edge of her peak, until the string of tension snaps.

When the first of her orgasms hits, Michelle screams. Even she doesn’t know whether it’s a scream of pain or pleasure, because she has no idea whether it feels good or terrible; all she knows is that it feels, and it feels so much that her vision goes completely white for a moment.

Mouth hanging open, she goes limp in her harness, which is thankfully tight enough to keep her held tight to the bottom of the horse. Her entire body instantly feels like overcooked noodles, but naturally, none of that stops the horse’s movement— if anything, he seems to pick up speed at Rachel’s encouragement— and he’s still inside of her.

“Are you haven’t fun, dear? Didn’t Rachel pick such a fun family activity for the three of us to do for our first day as a real family?”

It takes Michelle a moment to realize that her mother is talking to her, because to call her ‘conscious’ would be generous. When she blinks away some of the tears that have gathered in her eyes— a harder thing to do than usual thanks to her head hanging upside down— she opens her mouth, tongue flapping as she tries to come up with what to say to her mother.

Not only is it hard because she’s struggling to think of an answer she can give her that will satisfy her mother and not be too ‘harsh’, but because her brain is so addled by the way she’s hanging upside down and the intense pleasure-pain she’s feeling that words aren’t coming very easily to her.

“Oh, don’t worry about her.” Michelle can’t see Rachel smiling— all she can see is horse and the ground below, if she cranes her head in the right direction— but she can hear it in her voice, can imagine it clearly in spite of the fact that her brain isn’t working right. “I’m sure Michelle is having plenty of fun, but we should be understanding of the fact that she might be a little… Preoccupied at the moment. Now, how do you feel about letting these boys go for a proper run?”

Michelle can only whine in response to the question that isn’t being aimed at her, but rather at her mother. Once again the thought crosses her mind— is Rachel doing this to punish her, or is it just because this is what she wants to do?

And in the end, does it really matter? Whether Rachel is punishing her or whether she’s only doing it in the interest of seeing what’s going to happen, the result is the same either way.

If Michelle could only stop fighting it, if only she could stop putting so much thought into it and just live each day of her life in the same way as her mother, just being grateful that someone is actually taking an interest in her…

Then maybe she wouldn’t have to worry about being in so much pain and misery all the time.

Those thoughts aren’t much comfort when she’s strapped to the bottom of a horse, gasping because she doesn’t even have the breath to scream when Rachel kicks the horse into a gallop. The way he huffs and shakes his head complements the way his massive cock twitches inside of her well, and Michelle’s noises turn to involuntary keens.

She knows exactly what’s going to happen next, and she doesn’t know how she’s going to handle it— but since thinking about it is just a waste of time, her body decides that a working brain isn’t something she needs to worry about right now, because when her second orgasm hits any thoughts go flying out the window in favour of screaming in pleasure-pain again.

The scream is silent this time because of the voice being stolen right out of her chest by the force of it and by the sensation of the cock knocking around in all of her most sensitive places, but loud or silent, it doesn’t really matter.

What matters is that it happens.

And by the time the horse cums inside of her while in the middle of a full gallop, her mother shrieking in terrified delight at being on the back of a running horse for the first time and Rachel laughing at both Lynn’s pleased shrieks and Michelle’s peril, Michelle definitely doesn’t have the capacity to scream anymore— because as the first flood of cum starts to fill her, making her feel utterly and impossibly full, she blacks out.

Chapter Text

]The island is small, so it’s not as though there are many places for Rachel and her mother to go on their little ride. It’s just big enough that they can take a nice ride around, and Rachel doesn’t want to push things too hard for Lynn’s first time being on horseback, so before long they make their way back to where they started so Rachel can bring Michelle down from her perch beneath her stallion.

What she sees most certainly does not disappoint.

It’s no surprise that Michelle passed out in the middle of it; she had expected that to happen just because her head was hanging upside down for so long, not to mention everything else, the pleasure and the pain and the fact that she was no doubt completely out of breath by the end of it. She’s awake now again, having only passed out for a few moments in the face of her own pleasure and that of the horse she was tied to, but calling her ‘conscious’ would be generous; her eyes are open, but they’re glassy and distant, only barely managing to look in Rachel’s direction as she hops down from the back of the horse she’s been tied to.

Like she’s just so overstimulated and exhausted that, even if her mind is awake, even if she can look around and see her surroundings in front of her, her body might as well still be asleep for all the good it’s going to do her.

Except for the fact that she can see and hear what’s going on, which is a boon to Rachel, who doesn’t want her new daughter to miss a single moment of this very special occasion.

“Lynn, darling, do you think you could help me get her down?” she sweetly asks her wife (and what an odd concept that is, one that Rachel certainly never thought she would be applying to herself), and of course Lynn, always eager to please, doesn’t hesitate in helping her to bring her helpless daughter down from the contraption that allowed her to be fucked (somewhat) by a horse in full gallop around their private island. Michelle is completely limp, and it’s easy to tell she’s not faking it, even as her eyes dart between the two of them (more sluggishly than they would if she were fully energized, naturally). She’s total dead weight in their arms, but the two of them can manage.

“I had such a hard time believing that Michelle was capable of doing something like this,” Lynn murmurs, but it’s not horror in her voice as she helps Rachel carefully unhook Michelle and lay her down on a mattress nearby.

It’s awe, like she’s genuinely impressed by how her daughter is able to handle being fucked by horse cock— and it’s not like Lynn can blame her on that front.

She’s the one who trained Michelle to be able to do it, and she still finds it rather impressive.

“Michelle always excels at everything I teach her to do,” Rachel says proudly, wanting a chance to brag even if the topic of Michelle can be a sensitive one at times, with her mostly letting Lynn do the talking because it’s not as though she has to say anything when she gets to be the one enjoying the fruits of her labours anyway. “But it took a lot of hard work to get her to this point.”

The way they’re talking about her as though she isn’t even there when Michelle can hear every word, making small whining noises that are almost inaudible over her own breaths, sends a thrill through Rachel that makes her cock twitch in her riding pants.

Rachel is quick to bring the horses back to their paddock, because even though there aren’t many places for them to go on the island, she doesn’t want them running around loose and potentially hurting Michelle or Lynn. When she gets back, Lynn is kneeling next to Michelle on the mattress and murmuring something softly to her as she smooths her hair back out of her face, her other hand resting on Michelle’s stomach. Michelle’s eyes are shut, but the way she leans into her mother’s touch tells her that she hasn’t completely fallen asleep; she’s merely taking the offered opportunity to rest, as rare as it might be.

It would almost be an adorable, wholesome family moment if not for the fact that Michelle’s stomach is swollen with horse cum which is leaking out between her legs and making a mess of the mattress that she has her lying on, which is precisely why Rachel had chosen one that she wouldn’t mind replacing.

“You did so good today, baby,” Lynn murmurs to her daughter, and Michelle whines in response, as though that’s the only sound she’s capable of making anymore— and considering the state of her, it very well might be, until she gets some tender love and care to bring her back to full power at any rate. “I told you things would be better once we came here… Don’t worry, I’m going to make sure you get a nice reward for this…”

And who are you to be offering rewards, hm? Rachel thinks it, but doesn’t say it. Lynn still seems to think that she has some power in this situation. It’s funny, because between her and Michelle, Lynn is the one that came willingly and has been her partner in crime in getting her ideal life off the ground— but Michelle is the one who is actually aware of the situation that she finds herself in.

Oh, well. Just like Michelle, Lynn has a few problems that they’re going to have to iron out in the long run, but for right now Michelle is starting to come around and Lynn is enjoying herself, and that’s all that matters.

She can see the telltale way that Lynn is rubbing her thighs together as she walks over to her, signalling that she’s so turned on she can barely stand it, and Rachel smiles at the sight.

Of course she’s plenty turned on too; listening to the noises Michelle made as she was fucked on her horse’s cock, being used as nothing more than a fleshlight for an animal twice her size, had been so gratifying that she had nearly cum just bouncing on the saddle, and the only thing that had stopped that from happening had been the fact that she was preoccupied actually teaching Lynn how to properly ride a horse.

Now, there’s nothing to distract her, and Rachel is dropping her pants and letting her cock spring free before she even make sit over to the mattress. No need for shame, right? No point in not doing it when no one is going to dare to tell her no.

She’s stroking herself as she kneels down next to Lynn, and Lynn’s eyes immediately hyper focus on Rachel’s cock. She can see the sparkle in Lynn’s eyes and the drool gathering at the corner of her mouth, as though she’s so desperate to get her hands— and mouth— on it that she can’t even control herself.

Even though Rachel has spent a lot less time with Lynn, and put a lot less work into shaping her into the perfect toy, she can’t help but feel happy with the progress she’s made so far. And now that the two of them are married, she has all the time in the world to decide what she wants to do with her.

Does she want to turn her into a perfect obedient cock sleeve like Michelle, or does she want to encourage a bit more of a sadistic streak so that she has more of a partner in crime when it comes to getting Michelle into the kinds of situations that turn her on?

Right now, what Rachel wants most of all is just to have Lynn pleasuring her, and so she grabs her by the back of her head and shoves her down towards her cock.

Lynn lets out a happy moan as she’s forced to suck it, immediately wrapping her mouth around the head and taking a few inches of her in without Rachel even having to force her down. Even though Lynn is older and more experienced when it comes to matters of sex than Michelle is (although Rachel likes to think she’s fit plenty of experience into the short amount of time the two have had together), she can’t take as much of Rachel’s cock without choking, which she decides is going to be her first order of business:

Get Lynn up to par on the same skills as Michelle.

While Lynn starts to suck her cock, Rachel can’t help but have wandering eyes— and hands, for that matter. Michelle is lying right there, barely conscious with a perfectly rounded belly full of horse cum.

Normally, Michelle would be doing everything in her power not to look at what Rachel and her mother are doing. She doesn’t have a problem with that, most of the time; usually if Rachel and Lynn are doing something around Michelle, Michelle is also occupied, whether it’s helping her mother’s pleasure or taking Rachel’s cock. If she wants to close her eyes and pretend she isn’t watching her mother and her rapist have sex right in front of her, well.

Rachel can be kind sometimes.

This time, though… Her eyes are on them. She’s not sure how much Michelle is actually processing as she looks at them, but her eyes are following their movements— specifically following the way Rachel keeps forcing Lynn’s head down on her cock.

When she realizes Rachel is reaching for her and looking at her, Michelle’s eyes move to meet hers. They’re still dull, cloudy with exhaustion, but Rachel can see recognition in them all the same.

Rachel reaches over and slips her hand between Michelle’s legs. Slipping two fingers into her is easy, her body worked well open by the massive cock that she had just had inside of her for an extended period of time. She works up to three and four without having to even wait, but although she’s kind of curious to see if she can fit her entire fist into Michelle, she has another use in mind for her thumb.

Reaching up to brush it over Michelle’s clit so she can give the girl some more stimulation.

Of course her body has had plenty of stimulation recently, and even though she’s so exhausted she can barely move, Michelle can’t help but try to jerk away with a loud, almost animal keen. She must be so oversensitive that it’s just painful, but Rachel can’t stop herself; she flicks Michelle’s engorged clit with her thumb while smiling sadistically, and Lynn can’t even see the look on her face because she’s too busy taking her cock into her throat and trying not to choke on it.

It’s as though everything in her life has lined up perfectly to congratulate her for working hard all these years. Rachel can’t imagine a more perfect gift.

As worked up as she is, she knows she isn’t going to last very long, and judging by the way Lynn is moaning around her cock as she snakes a hand between her own thighs, the same is true of her wife. Rachel is only holding out for one thing.

It’s only fitting that all three of them cum together, since this is meant to be a celebration of them becoming a proper family, after all.

She’s become so familiar with Michelle’s body language in the time the two have known each other that she knows exactly when Michelle is starting to get close, even when she’s barely able to keep her eyes open. There’s the little noises from the back of her throat that she most certainly doesn’t even realize she’s making, the way she starts to shake all over like she’s cold, and the way she squeezes her legs together, the way she always does it there’s anything but a cock inside of her urging her on towards orgasm. She picks up the pace, hammering her four fingers into her even harder and rubbing at her clit with even more ferocity, and her hard work and dedication pays off.

As Michelle arches her back off the mattress and lets out a weak cry, horse cum spurting from her hole as her muscles force it out because of her orgasm, Rachel lets out a contented sigh and stops holding herself back, cumming directly down Lynn’s throat.

Lynn hasn’t gotten to the point where she can read either of them all that well, so without any warning from Rachel, she has no idea her new wife is about to cum. She lets out a noise of surprise as she suddenly feels something hot and sticky filling her throat, but that surprise is quickly overcome by a combination of the kind of joy that can only come from an intense orgasm washing away any doubts you might have.

She had gotten pretty close to cumming a few times when she had been bouncing on the back of the horse— sort of the analog equivalent to sitting on an old dryer, she supposes— but now that it finally hits, it hits hard enough that her vision goes blurry and a little white at the edges for a second.

Rachel and Lynn are both panting as Lynn pulls herself off Rachel’s cock, her tongue lolling out of her mouth as she tries to catch her breath, the hot sensation of cum in the pit of her stomach deeply satisfying. She wonders if Michelle, filled with even more cum than she is— albeit not from Rachel, but instead from an animal— feels even half as fulfilled as her mother does right now, and wonders if Rachel might be interested in helping her to learn all of the complex skills she’s taught Michelle so far.

Then again, she might be too old for that sort of thing now. Michelle’s body is young and limber and can take way more of a beating while still springing back than Lynn’s can; case in point, the way her chest is heaving after being through such an arduous but ultimately enticing looking ride under a horse, and yet her eyes are open. Maybe it’s in her best interest to leave that decision entirely in Rachel’s hands— just like every other decision— and just enjoy what she has, while she has it.

With a sigh, and because her entire body is starting to feel oddly loose, Lynn leans towards Rachel. She finds her head resting on her wife’s bountiful chest, nuzzling against her bare breasts as Rachel wipes her dirtied hand off on the mattress that Michelle is currently lying on.

Her daughter starts to stir— maybe that last orgasm is what she needed to be able to shake off her exhaustion, giving her a burst of energy that lets her push herself up into something almost like sitting up, though it’s clearly a strain on her— and when she looks at the two of them with those glassy eyes that are just starting to regain a sense of clarity, Rachel and Lynn both just smile at her.

“Welcome to the rest of your life, sweetheart,” Rachel says, her voice dripping with something, and though it sends a thrill through Lynn’s body she expects to see terror in her daughter’s eyes— the same thing she’s seen every other time Rachel has suggested to Michelle that this is all there is to their life now, even though to Lynn this seems like an utter paradise.

She’s pleased to see nothing of the sort. Michelle doesn’t look thrilled, but she looks… Accepting.

And, as she lets her eyes slide shut so she can rest a little while longer after performing such a gruelling task, Lynn thinks that in this moment—

She really couldn’t ask for more.