Tuning Chloe, Part 2
Story by All These Roadworks (2021).
Author's Note: I'm financially supported by my writing, so if you enjoy this story, please support my ability to write more by purchasing an e-book or membership from AllTheseRoadworks.com! (Click here to view the store.)
The night after Chloe had been tuned to “honesty”, her stepfather Michael started her on a new routine.
As Chloe’s mother Sarah cleared away the plates from a delicious roast dinner, Michael motioned for Chloe to come and sit next to him on the couch.
Chloe didn’t want to - but her cheek was still slightly red from the slapping she had received yesterday, so she cautiously came over and planted herself next to him.
“What do you want?” she asked - walking the fine line between “insolent” and “insolent enough to get slapped”.
“It’s Honesty Time,” said Michael. “Remember yesterday, when we selected ‘honesty’ for you on the app?”
Chloe did remember. The hypnotic conditioning she had received yesterday was supposed to make her “tunable”. Every three days, her mother and stepfather would be given a choice on their phone between two possible versions of their daughter, and then Chloe would feel compelled to line up with their choice. Yesterday they had been given a choice about her sexuality - “chaste” or “honest” - and Michael had selected “honest”, which resulted in Chloe being forced to give a humiliating account of her sexual experience in life so far - and confessing that being humiliated by Michael had made her aroused.
But she did not say any of this. Instead, she said, “Fuck off,” and tried to stand up, intending to go to her bedroom.
Michael grabbed her arm, pulled her back down, and slapped her across the face.
Sarah, watching from the doorway to the kitchen, said, “Please, Chloe, try and be respectful to Michael. He’s only trying to help you.”
Chloe’s mouth twisted in a sneer, but she said nothing more.
“We’re going to start a new routine each night,” said Michael. “Where you’re going to be honest with us.”
“Honest how?” said Chloe.
“About your sexuality,” said Michael. “Your confession that you’d had sex five times was very shocking for your mother. I can’t believe you kept that secret from her. And your admission that you had gotten aroused from being slapped…”
“It was slutty, Chloe,” interjected Sarah. She was still angry when she thought about her daughter’s embarrassing confession. “It was the kind of thing a little whore might do.”
“Exactly,” said Michael. “So you’re going to be honest now.”
Chloe didn’t like where this was going. “I don’t want to,” she said, and the pathetic, trapped note in her voice made Michael’s cock stiffen in his pants.
“It’s not up to you, Chloe,” said Michael. “So I want you to tell us - did you masturbate today?”
Chloe mewled in distress, not wanting to answer - but her hypnosis compelled her to. “Yes,” she said, in a small voice.
“And what were you thinking about when you masturbated?” Michael asked.
Chloe closed her eyes, and looked away - but she couldn’t stop herself speaking. “I was thinking about how embarrassing it was telling you that I got wet from being slapped,” she said.
Sarah gasped. “You… trollop,” she spat. She turned to Michael. “Michael, we need to - I don’t know what! Something! We need to discipline her!”
Michael was overjoyed that Sarah was proposing this on her own. “What’s your preference?” he asked.
Sarah cast about for an idea, and finally settled on one. “Spank her!” she said. “Her father never used to spank her, and I think that was a mistake.”
Chloe was outraged. “Mom! No!” she protested.
“Don’t you ‘mom, no’ me, you little slut!” said Sarah. “Getting wet from your own stepfather! It’s disgusting, Chloe!”
“Pull down your pants, Chloe,” said Michael, sternly.
“What? No!” said Chloe. “Gross! No!”
Michael looked at her ripped denim jeans. “I can’t spank you through those. Pull them down, or I’ll pull them down for you.”
“Fuck off! No!” objected Chloe.
Michael shrugged, and reached out to grab the spoiled little brat. She dodged - but Michael was faster. He grabbed her around the waist, and they both fell off the couch to the floor, Michael on top. He pinned her down as she writhed erotically underneath him, and mercilessly dragged her jeans down her legs and off. He took care to catch his thumbs under her panties as well, dragging them down along with her jeans, so that by the time he finally pulled them over her struggling shoe-less ankles, she was buck-ass naked from her waist to her heels.
Michael had often pictured what Chloe might look like nude, and he was for the most part not disappointed. Her ass was pert and smooth, her thighs milky and soft. She had a visible thigh gap. The only sour note was the thick patch of pubic hair obscuring her snatch. He would have to fix that, he thought.
But for now the real beauty was the raw humiliation on Chloe’s face, as she experienced complete powerlessness and became helpless and exposed to her stepfather’s gaze.
And was that just blush on her cheeks? Or was she aroused?
Definitely aroused. Her pussy lips were puffy, slightly parted, and he could see sticky ropes of moisture between them.
With some effort, he dragged her back up onto the couch, until she was lying over his lap, butt upwards. She tried to escape again, but her mother stepped forward and held her hands.
“You really had this coming, Chloe,” Sarah said, regretfully.
Michael began to spank. He could have just hit her ten times, hard, but instead her struck her nearly 50 times - but slowly, building in intensity. The first spanks were just light, to bring her blood to the surface and sensitise her. He took time after every five to massage her ass - “rubbing away the pain” - and in the process, he spread her ass cheeks to expose her anus. It looked innocent, but she knew what was happening, and squirmed with humiliation.
After 20 spanks, he began to massage deeper, His thumb probed briefly at her anus, and his fingers slipped between her thighs to lightly touch her pussy lips. She screamed and bucked as he did this, but her mother just thought Chloe objected to the spanking, and held her tighter - while from Chloe’s perspective, it seemed that her mother knew what Michael was doing, and approved of it.
Whenever he touched her pussy, his fingers came away coated with the thick slime of her arousal, which he wiped off on her buttocks.
After 30 spanks, he repositioned her slightly so she was half hanging off his lap, His right knee ended up beneath her pussy, and on each spank, he would pull his knee up, pushing into her cunt. She began to gasp and moan and deliberately grind her twat against his leg.
On the 47th spank she orgasmed, and again on the 50th, and again when he rubbed her down afterwards and allowed a finger to push slightly into her anus at the same time as he once again kicked her hard in the cunt with his knee. The way she orgasmed was to make a high-pitched scream, and shudder, and buck her ass wildly, and once again her mother just thought it was Chloe objecting to the treatment, but Michael could see what it really was, and opted in this case to keep his stepdaughter’s slutty secret.
When it was done, he said, “Say thank you, Chloe.”
She moaned, and then said, in a small voice, “Thank you, Michael.”
This was more than enough for Michael, but then to his surprise and delight Sarah took it one step further. She didn’t know that her daughter was aroused, or that she had just orgasmed, and so she said, “He’s going to be your father, Chloe. I think you should say ‘thank you, daddy’.”
Chloe began to cry then, small, silent tears running down her face - but she said it.
“Thank you, daddy,” she said, in a small, defeated voice.
“You’re welcome, darling,” said Michael. “Now why don’t you run along to the shower and get cleaned up?”
Late that night, Michael visited Chloe in her newly-pink bedroom, to “say goodnight”.
“I hate you,” she said, looking up at him from under her covers. She was wearing full-body pyjamas, which was apparently a new behaviour from her that had started when Michael began sleeping in her mother’s bed. Michael would train her out of that, too, in time.
“You hate me, do you?” laughed Michael, kneeling beside her bed.
“I want you to die,” she said, looking him straight in the eye.
“Okay,” said Michael amicably. “Tell me, Chloe - what’s the most humiliating thing you can tell me about your sexuality today?”
“No,” she moaned. “It’s not fair. Stop asking me that!”
“I might stop asking when you stop being a bratty little bitch,” replied Michael. “I asked you a question, Chloe, and I expect an answer.”
He expected her to confess that she had cum from being spanked, but her answer surprised him.
“When you were pulling off my pants, I thought you were going to rape me,” she said, “and if you had raped me, I would have cum so hard.”
Michael laughed with delight.
“Shut up!” said Chloe. “Stop it! I don’t want you to rape me! I hate you! I can’t help it that I feel weird things sometimes! It’s your fault! You and your stupid hypnosis!”
“Which hole do you most want to be raped in, Chloe?” he asked her quietly.
“My cunt,” she replied, just as quietly.
“And out of all the ways I could make you stop struggling and let me rape you, which would make you wettest?” he asked.
“Slap my face,” she said. “Slap it until I do as I’m told.”
She was crying again, with the humiliation of her confession.
“Good night, Chloe,” he said to her. “Sleep well.”
He stood up, turned out the light, and left.
The next night, he repeated Honesty Time again, but Chloe was ready for him.
“Did you masturbate today, Chloe?” he asked her.
“No,” she said.
“Why not?” he asked her.
“Because I don’t want to have to admit to you I masturbated,” she replied, which was clearly not the answer she had intended to give him, but turned out to be answer that “honesty” required.
“Good girl,” Michael said, and let her go.
He didn’t care that she hadn’t masturbated. In fact, he hoped she kept avoiding touching herself. A girl who was repressed, horny, and not allowing herself any form of relief was going to be much, much more fun to train.
The night after that, it was time for another choice, and it appeared on their app just after dinner.
“Look at these choices, honey,” said Michael, showing Sarah.
The app said “DAUGHTER’S HAIR”, and had two pictures, each depicting a hairstyle. “PIGTAILS” said one - showing two cute-but-childish pigtails on either side of a girl’s head, tied with ribbons - and “PRINCESS” said the other, showing long hair down to a girl’s waist.
Sarah and Michael both looked at Chloe’s wild disarray of dirty black hair, and pictured the possibilities of a change.
“They both sound so good!” said Sarah.
“What are you talking about?” asked Chloe. “Is it the choice? What’s it asking you to choose?”
“She’d look cute like this,” said Michael, pointing at “PIGTAILS”.
“Yes, absolutely,” said Sarah. “Choose that one.”
He selected it. Chloe’s phone chimed. She looked down at the app, and her face coloured with embarrassment.
“Go do your hair, Chloe,” said her mother. “I want to see.”
Chloe ran to her room, blushing - and returned, ten minutes later.
With her hair in pigtails, she looked at least three years younger. She no longer looked like a young adult capable of making her own decisions. She looked like a rather silly and stupid child. The blush on her face just emphasised the effect.
“You look gorgeous, honey,” said Sarah. “I’m so pleased!”
“I hate it,” said Chloe. But she could do nothing to change it.
“Thank your father for your new hairstyle,” said Sarah.
“Fuck off,” said Chloe - and so of course Michael had to cross the room and slap her. He grabbed her by her new pigtails to do so, and found that, as he had expected, they made for a very enjoyable grip with which to control her. He slapped her twice, to make sure she’d learn, and it must have been effective, because once he was done, she did as her mother had asked.
“Thank you, daddy,” she muttered.
He visited her in her bedroom again that night.
“What sexual thought do you least want to tell me about?” he asked her.
“Stop it!” she moaned. “Go away!”
He caressed her cheek with one hand, reminding her that he could slap her - but refraining from doing so, for now.
“I hate you,” she spat.
“What was the thought, Chloe?” he repeated.
“My friend Mitch calls pigtails ‘blowjob handlebars’,” she said. “And when i put my hair in pigtails, I couldn’t help but picture you using them to force your cock into my mouth and face-rape me.”
“And how did that thought make you feel?” he asked her.
“Violated,” she said. “Angry. Embarrassed. And…”
“Yes?” he asked.
“Aroused. So wet it was leaking down my thighs,” she admitted. “God, I hate you. I wanted to touch myself so much, but I didn’t. I’m not going to give you the satisfaction. You can’t make me.”
“Good girl,” he said.
“You know I don’t actually want to fuck you?” she said. “The thought makes me sick. You’re a gross perverted creep. This is all just mindfuckery from your disgusting hypno. It’s not me.”
“You look pretty in your blowjob handlebars,” he told her. “And only a disgusting slut would get wet from picturing her own stepfather face-raping her. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
He stood, and turned off the light.
“Good night, Chloe,” he said.
As he left, he thought he heard a voice behind him say three words.
“Good night, daddy.”
(TO BE CONTINUED)