In A Familiar Car...

Sam was tossed awake by a bump in the road. It took her a second to realize where she was, but as she opened her eyes and scanned her surroundings, she realized she was lying down in the backseat of her own car. Someone was in the front seat, but she didn't recognize who...

I outstretched an arm, and instantly realized that none of what just happened was a dream. I was **** to fuck guys. I begged for them to cum on me. I felt sick. My body was still covered in horrifically slutty tattoos. My lips were still stupidly plump. My breasts were still far larger than usual. But as I studied myself, I realized; I'm back in my old clothes again. I'M BACK IN MY OLD CLOTHES AGAIN!

I quickly sat up, and the driver instantly noticed. She shot a glance back at me, and smirked. "Oh goodie! You're awake! Now I got somebody else to play with!"

"Wait...Ramona!?"

"Well who else would wanna save ya? Santa Claus?" Ramona let out a little giggle, and turned her attention back to the road. She must've taken on a lot of punishments if she's talking weirdly again. Wait...

"Hang on...why is my outfit back to normal? And why am I not saying inappropriate shit anymore?"

"Well, that's the itty bitty thing I wanted to talk to ya about! Turns out, the app saw us collaboratin' and fuckin' with each other, so it decided to make the game 2-player! Now all our punishments earned are given to the other player. It's why I'm talkin' so strangely."

"Wait so I've just been racking up punishments for you while you've been playing for me?" Ramona nodded. "God...Mona, i'm so sorry..."

"Don't ya worry your silly little head about it! I've basically knocked us down to equal amounts! At least...I think so...I'm not sure. It doesn't let me check my punishments. Could ya check for me?" She seemed oddly stressed about something, like she was on edge...

"Yes." I reached into my pockets for my phone, and pulled it out. With the app already open on my phone, I studied the list of punishments I had racked up for Mona.

Mona (Ramona):
-Cheerleader (4/4): Sling thong with decorative skirt, heart shaped nipple covers. Pom pom buttplug, removal increases width. High pigtails. Face paint. All styled with fake school colors. 8 inch Ballet heels.
-Act The Part: Move like a flirty slut when observed.
-Inked: Degrading sexual tattoos.
-Cold Front: Always stiff nipples.
-Yes (Wo)man: Answers yes to questions about her actions or her opinion, compulsion to act on affirmative to person who say they are the boss.
-Entitled: Must refer to self by appointed name. Will correct anyone who refers to her by 'wrong' name.
-Old Faithful: Full lubrication at random intervals, no shorter than 30 min.
-Harlequin: Speaks with a highly sexualized Brooklyn accent.
-Head Girl: A build up over time of desire to suck cock. Can never refuse a request to give a blowjob.
-Pants on Fire: Lying results in a random piece of clothing suddenly feeling like it's on fire.
-Sissy-phus: Can only become less aroused by orgasming.
-Patience is a Virtue: Can only orgasm when someone gives them verbal permission.
-Motherly Duty: Will begin to lactate when aroused. Amount of lactation mirrors level of arousal.
-Taste Test: When near semen, will consume it without hesitation.
-Fountainhead: When giving oral, will provide vaginal lubrication.
-Ice Queen: Cold temperatures, ice, and being submerged in cold water will provide arousal.

The list explained so much of Ramona's behavior. Why the heat was cranked up in the car despite it being a moderately warm night, why there were white stains on her chest area (although I couldn't tell if it was from semen or breastmilk), and why she seemed so agitated. This list was wildly unfair to Ramona, especially considering how hard she must've work to bring down my list, but all I could do now was whittle hers down as thanks. Immediately, I looked up to Ramona, who was still thoroughly focused on driving, but clearly frustrated by her breasts dripping milk and her crotch burning to either be let down or released.

"Pull over and masturbate. You can cum now."

"Yes...wait, what're ya talking about? We're on the highway!" But it was too late. I looked out the windows for the first time the entire drive, and noticed the car next to us just as Ramona proceeded to slam the car into them. Despite being tossed by the impact, Ramona still found a way to clutch the steering wheel and grind the car next to us against the guard rail. I was tossed back down onto the seat, and Ramona began screaming. The unbearable level of noise stung at my ears, and sounded much like the screech of the reaper raising his scythe. I moved my head to look at the door now rubbing against the other car, and it began to protrude and jut in places, like sand conforming to leave a handprint. After what seemed to be an eternity of loud metallic scraping and fearful wailing, the car slowed to a crawl. I sat up, slowly, and thankfully saw Ramona still in one piece, but proceeding to masturbate, tears still in her eyes.

"Ramona, stop."

"Yes...thank you..."

She sobbed the words through shuddered breaths. The breastmilk drippage had increased in speed, but only slightly. I leaned forward slightly to check for blood, but didn't spot any.

"You alright Ramona?"

"Yes...yeah...yeah, I'm alright. I'm alright." She sniffled slightly as she used her hand, which was moments ago intent in getting her off, to wipe the tears from her face. "You alright?"

"Yes...fuck that was stupid." Ramona began to laugh through her tears.

"Yeah, that was really..." Her words trailed off as she whipped her head towards the rearview mirror. I twisted in my seat, and through the cramped rear window, I could see the completeness of the mess we left behind.

The car was downright totaled. Even without a decent view of the sides and rear, it was clear the car behind us took far more damage than we did. The white sedan was crumpled in the front fender, the right headlight, the windshield, and the currently open driver door. A man, clearly more angry than injured, began furiously stomping toward us. His face was beet red, and his build, although only slightly above-average, made him all the more intimidating. I could take him in a fight, but definitely not in a court case. I opened the car door on the right and walked out towards him.

"Are you alright?" Instantly, the man exploded at me.

"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW GODDAMN EXPENSIVE THIS IS GOING TO BE!? MY WIFE IS GONNA KILL ME! I JUST HAD THIS REPAIRED TWO WEEKS AGO! YOU BETTER HAVE INSURANCE, OR I'M GOING TO HAVE YOU PAYING OUT THE WAZOO UNTIL YOU FALL OVER AND CROAK, WOMAN!"

As I moved towards him, I began to study him a lot more. He appeared to be about forty, was around five-foot ten, and had a dark-haired buzzcut that made it impossible to tell what hair color he actually had. This wasn't helped any by the fact that he also lacked eyebrows, although they seemed like they were recently shaved off instead of a fault of hair loss. His suit was nothing special; khakis, a mint-green button up, and a tie that had the color scheme of a vertical Oreo. But despite all these features that i'd typically brush aside, his anger was easily the most defining part of him. I could practically see the steam coming out of his ears.

"Listen, sir, I'm so sorry about this, this is all my fault--"

"I DON'T GIVE A DAMN WHO'S FAULT IT IS! YOU BETTER HAVE INSURANCE TO COVER THESE DAMAGES! IT'S GONNA COST ME A FORTUNE IF YOU DON'T COVER THIS, AND YOU WILL, YOU ROTTEN CIRCUS FREAK, YOU!"

"I'm not actually sure if my friend has insurance, let me--"

"YOUR FRIEND DOESN'T HAVE INSURANCE!? WELL THEN, I GUESS YOU CAN JUST GO AND FUCK YOURSELF!"

"Yes." Instantly, my hands flew down to my nether regions and began to furiously masturbate. The man before me went instantly from fuming to bewildered and shocked in a moment.

"What the hell?" As my hands went to work on my ass and clit with a ferocity I hadn't seen since I was last conscious, the pleasure of being teased began to bubble up to the surface already.

"Stop that! Stop that!"

"Yes." I regained complete control of my hands, and quickly drew them to my pockets. I shifted my pose, somewhat to hide the fact that that small amount of time had already gotten me worked up, but also to try and come off as intimidating once more. However, the man's expression had now resolved to curiosity. He studied me, and finally uttered a command.

"Tap your right hand against your forehead three times."

"Yes." I proceeded to facepalm three times, as commanded. Again, he eyed me, trying to think of more ways to test my willingness to follow orders.

"Take off your shirt and a bra if you have one on."

"Yes." I proceeded, much to my dismay, to uncover myself for this complete stranger. When I had fully removed my shirt, he began laugh. "Well, isn't this something! Tell me why you're following my commands."

"Yes. There's this app that was downloaded onto my phone called Custom Girls. I don't know who created it or how it controls me, but in essence, you play this game whenever it tells you to, and if you lose, you gain punishments, such as this one that makes me obey you. Winning lets me remove punishments."

"Give me your phone. I wanna see what punishments you have."

"Yes." I reached into my pocket, and handed him my phone. It opened for him, even without my passcode, and instantly he began flicking away at the options on the screen. I waited in nervous anticipation of what the app would let him to do me. Would it give him control over me, like how I had control over Ramona? Would it let him change my punishments? Is he gonna take advantage of me?