Lachlan’s phone rang in the middle of the night, and it was Sarah, hysterical.

 

“You have to rape me,” she sobbed.  “You have to beat me.  I’m so horrible.  I’m such a slut.  Please.  Beat me till I can’t think.  Please sir.  Please.”

 

“Calm down, Kitten,” said Lachlan.  “What’s happened?”

 

But she was inconsolable.  “Kick my cunt,” she wailed.  “Kick me till I’m broken.  Rape me.  I deserve rape.”

 

He could get no sense out of her, and in the end there was nothing for it but to drive over to her apartment, on the dark 2 am streets.

 

When he got there, Sarah was naked on the floor just inside her front door, fucking her pussy with a thick wine bottle, and ineffectually slapping at her tits, trying to hurt them.  

 

Lachlan tried to elicit what had happened from her, but she just kept sobbing, and in the end there was nothing for it but to grab her hair and pull her to her feet, and then repeatedly slap her across the face, and punch her tits, until her eyes at least focused on him.  She still wouldn’t answer him, though, so he dragged her to her bedroom, took off his clothes, and raped her.  In her hysterical state she encouraged his worst impulses, and he discovered it was immensely satisfying and erotic to rape the pussy of the crying, broken executive while he slapped her face and mauled her tits.  

 

“I’m going to impregnate you, Kitten,” he growled, and that just made her even wilder, bucking and struggling against him in a delicious way as he violated her cunt.  He reflected on how far she had come - once a powerful, successful, ambitious feminist executive who could have destroyed Lachlan’s career with a word; now a pathetic mewling slut that begged him to use her as a cock-socket and punching bag.

 

He choked her for the last few moments, with one hand on her throat, as he felt himself cum, and it was only the denial of oxygen and the feeling of a possibly-impregnating load of sperm shooting into her womb that finally calmed her down.

 

“Thank you, sir,” she gasped.  “Thank you for slapping me and raping me.  I deserved it.  I deserve more.”

 

“Of course you do, Kitten,” he said.  “Because you have big tits and you’re a woman.  But what brought this on?”

 

She gestured vaguely towards her bedroom floor, and for the first time Lachlan realised there were photo albums strewn everywhere.  He picked up one, and saw a photo of an 18-year-old Sarah standing next to her parents.  It must have been her prom night because she was wearing a pretty pink taffeta dress.

 

He stared at it for a moment before something clicked in his brain and he realised what had happened.

 

He had told Sarah that anytime she saw a photo of herself with other people, her memories would change to tell her she had been cockteasing those people, trying to get them to rape her.

 

And here she was with her parents…

 

It had been nothing but a whim, a bit of passing cruelty, and Lachlan had clearly not thought through all the implications.

 

“Kitten,” he said, choosing his words carefully, “when you were young, did you try and get your parents to fuck you?”

 

Sarah burst into tears again.

 

“I don’t know why,” she wailed.  “I don’t have those fantasies.  I don’t think of my father… or my mother… that way.  If something happened with them it would be revolting.  But I saw the photo and suddenly… I remembered how *much* I wanted them to fuck me.  How I used to behave like a little slut, showing off my body, cockteasing…” - she took a moment to draw in breath between sobs - “cockteasing *my own parents*.”

 

She gestured with one hand towards the photo album.  “And that’s not even all of it,” she continued.

 

Lachlan paged through the photo album.  There was Sarah with her aunts and uncles.  With her grandfather.  WIth cousins.  With her schoolfriends - both male and female.  With her teachers.  Sarah on the knee of a mall Santa Claus.  Sarah with her swimming instructor.  Sarah hugging the family dog…

 

“I was such a slut,” Sarah wailed.  “I don’t know how I forgot.  Everyone in my life - I tried to get them to rape me.  I was a whore.  I *am* a whore.  I can’t bear it.”

 

She looked up at Lachlan.  “You have to keep hitting me, sir,” she said.  “You have to make me hurt.  I deserve it.  You have to make me hurt so much it feels like I’ve been punished.  Otherwise… otherwise I don’t want to live.”

 

Lachlan thought to himself.  A broken Sarah was hot.  A suicidal Sarah was not.  

 

“Sarah, listen to me,” he said.  “Self-harm is unethical, do you understand?  You can beat your tits and spank your pussy all you like, but it would be terribly wrong to permanently damage your body or do anything that endangered your life.  Do you understand?”

 

She nodded, but Lachlan was unsatisfied.  He controlled her ethics, it was true, but that wouldn’t stop her doing something unethical.  She would simply feel bad about doing it.  

 

“I can make this go away, Kitten,” said Lachlan.  “I can make it so that you never tried to seduce your biological parents.  Do you believe me?”

 

Sarah nodded.  Did she think he was going to use his control over her life story to change this?  Was she thinking he had some other magical solution?  Or was she simply so traumatised she would agree with anything he said?

 

“But you have to do two things for me, Kitten,” said Lachlan.  “Can you do two things for me?”

 

She nodded again.

 

“The first is that you have to give me the best sex of my life,” said Lachlan.  “You have to make me believe that you’re in love with me.  You have to make me believe you want nothing in life except to please my cock, and that you’ll hurt yourself to please me.”

 

“I can do that, sir,” said Sarah.

 

“And the second is that when you next surrender something to me, you have to choose your family,” said Lachlan.  “And you ARE going to surrender something to me, because working a side-job at Melons without reporting it is a breach of the departmental code of conduct.”

 

She gasped, and shivered.  She knew, as he did, that her third surrender would force her - or allow her, really - to get the breast enhancement surgery they had discussed.

 

“So what are you going to surrender to me, Kitten?” he asked her.

 

“My family, sir,” she whispered.

 

He smiled.

 

He took some time to get her ready for their sex.  He wanted it to be the most painful and degrading sex she had ever experienced.  He wanted to see her working through those feelings to bring him pleasure.

 

He bound the base of her breasts tightly in rope, to make them bulge, and then put on her bra that was lined on the inside with thumbtacks.  Even with her tits bulging like taut balloons from the rope, the small sharp points wouldn’t draw blood, but they *would* be agonising, particularly when pressure of any kind was applied to her chest.

 

He searched through Sarah’s medicine drawer and found some deep heat muscle relaxant.  He slathered this liberally over Sarah’s butt plug, and then forced it up her ass.  She immediately began to squeal as the stinging goo began to burn her sensitive inner membranes.  Again it wouldn’t damage her, but it would leave her in anal agony for hours.  

 

Finally he put a hard clip on her clitoris, and bound her hands behind her back.

 

“Show me what you can do,” he told her.  “Show me what you wanted to do to your daddy.”

 

That last line made her pause.  He knew he had just made whatever she was about to do that much more traumatic and degrading for her.  She had just as much incentive to be the best whore she knew how to be - and yet she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from thinking about her father as she did it.  Lachlan had no intention of ever making Sarah commit incest, but he had no qualms about battering at the strongholds of resistance that those taboos still held in her mind.

 

Lachlan was standing, so Sarah dropped to her knees in front of him and began sucking his cock.  She could taste her own pussy on his dick.  She looked up at him with big eyes as she sucked, and he delighted in how she was trying to make that gaze seem loving.  She was succeeding, in fact.  Was she a good actor?  Or had she convinced herself that she *did* love him, for the duration of this scenario?

 

As his cock hardened, she took her mouth off his cock briefly to whisper, “Slap me.  I won’t bite.”

 

She didn’t want to be slapped, of course.  But she had noted how he loved to hurt her, and was doing her best to make him enjoy this sex.

 

He did slap her, several times across the cheek, hard, and he was endlessly amused by how she prioritised keeping his cock safe and entertained over protecting her own face.  

 

“Good girl,” he whispered as he slapped her again.

 

After a while she stood, and pressed her body against him, whimpering as she crushed her tits against his chest and felt the tacks stabbing into her titflesh.  She kissed him on the mouth, and parted her legs, and he was able to guide his cock into her wet pussy.

 

He let her set the pace of this sex for a while.  He loved the way that every time she bounced on his cock, she pushed her bound tits against him, causing herself agony even as she brought him pleasure.  

 

“If you really loved me,” he whispered in her ear, “you would cum before I do.”

 

Her eyes glazed over as she thought her sluttiest thoughts, trying to make herself orgasm, trying to cum from her pain and humiliation, even as part of her mind was picturing fucking her own father.  

 

“Do you remember your first lesbian orgasm?” he whispered to Sarah.  “You raped your best female friend with a cucumber, while two boys from your school watched and masturbated.  You got them to ejaculate into a bowl, and then you dipped the cucumber in their cum and made your friend eat it.  And then you forced her to lick your pussy until you orgasmed afterwards.”

 

Sarah’s body convulsed with horror and guilt as this new memory took hold of her - and then, suddenly, she was cumming.

 

Lachlan laughed, and slapped her, and turned her around so that she was against the wall and he was leaning against her, and then he fucked her hard until he was cumming too.

 

“I love you,” Sarah whispered pathetically as he orgasmed.  “I love you.  I deserve this.  I love you so much…”

 

“Do you remember when we first met, Kitten?” said Lachlan.  “The very first day we met, you fell in love with me.  You wanted to fuck me so much.”

 

“Yes…” moaned Kitten.  She didn’t *feel* the love - he didn’t control her heart - but she *remembered* it.

 

“And you were so helpless and ditzy and incompetent,” said Lachlan.  “You were just a pair of tits trying to pretend it was an intelligent woman, remember?”

 

She did, and she nodded.

 

“And you so clearly needed some guidance in your life,” said Lachlan.  “So I made you an offer, do you remember?  I offered to be your daddy.”

 

Her face scrunched up, not understanding.

 

“We went down to the courthouse and did the paperwork,” said Lachlan.  “I adopted you.  I’m legally your father.  That’s why you have these confusing thoughts about your parents.  You never really wanted to fuck *them* - you just wanted to fuck *me*.  Remember?”

 

A cloud seemed to lift from her face.  She didn’t like this new development - that Lachlan was her father - but it cleared her of the guilt of having cockteased her biological parents.

 

“Yes,” she said.  “I remember.”

 

“Say, ‘I remember, daddy,’” said Lachlan.

 

‘I remember, daddy…” said Sarah meekly.

 

“Now, all these other people - your friends, your teachers, your dog - you definitely cockteased *them*,” said Lachlan.  “You are a disgusting slut, after all.  But you never wanted to commit incest.  Does that make you feel better, Kitten?”

 

“Yes, daddy,” said Sarah.  And, clearly, it did.

 

“Now, let’s go watch some rape porn together,” said Lachlan.  “And you can look at all the pretty porn stars, and decide which one has the sluttiest-looking fake tits.  And then we’ll get you all booked in to get a boob-job to make you look exactly the same…”

 

(TO BE CONTINUED)