Jenny's Continues

I find myself back on the couch with a glass of whisky in my hand as Jenny, naked and still with my cum drying on her face, kneels next to me. As ordered, she made some food for me - and herself, though she didn't get to eat it. I smile remembering the look on her face when I told her some starvation would be necessary for her to achieve an acceptable figure. Now she just kneels there with her head lowered, probably thinking about everything she has already done today, as I finish watching the last minutes of the match I originally planned on seeing today.

With one gulp, I finish my glass and snap my fingers to get her attention: "Fifteen minutes left on the match, cunt -- I don't think my cock should have to be cold and alone for all this time, do you?" She clearly doesn't understand what I mean, "Come on, fucking put your mouth on it and warm it. No sucking though. You can use whatever little brain capacity you have left to think about how good it feels to serve me."

She obeys, cause of course she does. I am low-key surprised by how easy it is proving to break her. Maybe I should find **** little feminists more often, they might prove to be the best slaves yet. Jenny keeps my mostly soft cock in her mouth as instructed and doesn't move -- not even when I spit on her for good measure. Her knees must hurt by now, I think smilingly. Good, I always found that a night with a whore was only fun when she was in pain.

When the match is over I reach for my phone. Time to make sure she will never disobey me again. "Next lesson, whore," I say, and shove her off me with a hard motion. I point my camera at her face and see her eyes widen in fear. "We will make sure you will always remember what you have been taught. So you will tell me on camera."

"B-but-"

"Oh, is the little slut scared of being on camera?" I laugh and stroke her hair from her face before slapping her straight across it, "Good thing you have a man to make the decisions for you, isn't it?"

"Yes, Sir, thank you," she whispers and looks down.

I snap my fingers and say, "Into the camera, sweetheart, state your name and age."

"M-my name is Jenny and I am 18 years old," she starts, but I shake my head.

"Full names only."

"M-my name is Jennifer Alison Paulson," sniff, "and I am 18 years old. Everybody calls me Jenny."

"So Jenny - I heard you used to be a feminist?" I say and make sure to zoom in on the dried cum on my face, the red marks from where she was slapped, the drool all over her tits, "Why don't you tell us about that?"

"I u-used to be a feminist. I thought.. I was told that I could be just as smart as a man.. that I h-have the same rights and value," she says, "But I think.. I think it's not true." Beautifully, she starts crying again. Oh so broken.

"Why do you think that?"

"I- Men are s-so much smarter than us. We girls c-cannot even form our own opinions or make any decisions alone. And they are so much stronger than m-me. Or any girls. We c-cannot beat them," she says, "We need to be g-grateful to them for not hurting us with all their strength and that they help us by t-telling us what to think and feel and do."

"How do you show that gratitude?"

"B-by doing whatever men want," she says under tears, "By making sure their needs are met and they are p-p-pleased with me."

"Such a good girl," my tone is condescending and she flinches like she expects she said the wrong thing, "So what does that make you now, mh? You said you used to be a feminist. And now?"

"N-now?" She seems to think about the question, "I.. I know my place now."

"Where is that?"

"On my knees," she says immediately, "Serving my superiors. Worshiping their feet. Licking their assholes clean. Sucking their cocks." She squeezes her eyes shut in shame as she says this, but as my spit lands on her eye she opens them immediately.

"What are you?"

"I.. I'm just a stupid girl." The sentence comes out in an embarrassed whisper.

"I think girls are a little prettier than you are, bitch." I smirk and she sobs out loud at that, "You're three holes and a pair of tits, that's what you are. A urinal, if you are so lucky. Maybe -- with a lot of training -- even a cumrag. But that is all you will ever be."

"Y-yes Sir..." she says and new tears fall.

"Anything you want to say to your daddy? I'm sure he will come across this video once I upload it."

Her eyes open wider in shock and she begs, "Please, Sir, no, please, anything else, please don't upload this."

I shut down the camera and smile at her, "Well, I guess as long as you don't displease me, I can hold of on posting this."

She nods slowly while the tears keep falling. I can see that she is now realizing exactly what that means.

"That's right, cunt, I fucking own you now. You will do whatever I say, always. Your holes will be available to me, anywhere, anytime." I grab her by the hair and pull her up only to push her to the ground. "Just like God designed -- a Man and his ****. Now thank me for my kindness and make me hard."

With slow movements she brings herself back to her knees, crawls back to me and puts her mouth back on my cock._ _She licks and kisses it, before forcing her head down on it -- still chocking and pulling away after only a second. I could take over and hold her head in place, but I think I have a better idea. I allow her to try and get me hard with her pathetic little attempts. She really is terrible at this. I guess it's not that bad -- I prefer using a cunt's mouth-hole on my terms anyway, I rarely allow them to be the active part. But it is a nice angle to keep her humble.

After a couple of minutes I push her away letting her fall backwards to the ground. "This isn't working, you are really god-awful at this," I say casually, "Did Noah actually cum while you were with him?"

She doesn't answer, just looks away in shame.

"We'll have to get my hard some other way," I pull her back to her kneeling position and get onto the couch. I slap her tits and twist her nipples getting a pained reaction from her. Then I thrust my cock between her tits. "Hold your tits in place and bounce. And pray this will be better than your pathetic head game."

And she does. Her tits actually feel pretty good. I give my best not to let myself get too turned on too quickly -- I need her to feel worse about her performance.

"At this rate, you will have me ready to go in six to eight business day," I bark at her, "Tell me something that will stimulate me -- which of your friends would you bring to me if I told you I wanted to **** one of them."

Instantly, Jenny stops her movement. My hand finds her throat, "I did not tell you to fucking stop, did I? Next time you displease me, you will learn how it feels when no breath is coming through and you lose consciousness at my hand"

She goes back to bouncing her tits, up and down, up and down, "I-I don't want either of my friends t-to be ****."

"I didn't fucking ask that did I?!" I bark, "Just answer the damn question! Which one of your dumb little bimbo friends would you bring me to have my fun with?"

"I.. probably Sophie," she whispers and the self-hatred is all so evident on her face. She doesn't stop bouncing with her tits on my cock.

"Why?"

"I think you would l-like her most," she answers, "She would fight you, but she is s-so small and weak. She would cry and beg and I think you would enjoy that. And she is the th-thinnest of all my friends, you would like that too..."

"Ah, so you were thinking primarily about my preferences there," I hum in approval, "Very good. But which one of them deserves it most?"

Tears fill her eyes as she considers her options. She doesn't want to answer me, doesn't want to play into my fantasy of abusing her friend. But she clearly knows she has no other choice but to obey: "Also Sophie," she says quietly, "She is the most outspoken about feminism and how much she hates men and their behaviour."

"So you think some corrective **** would do her good?" I say with a smirk and see her flinch, "That she would be better off being **** to serve a real man in order for her to learn her purpose in this world?"

"Y-yes," she says and I laugh.

"Maybe we'll have to do this some time then," I say casually, not really planning on putting this place into action. As I reach for my Ipad and scroll through my Instagram, I tell her: "I'm sure you would help me, wouldn't you? A good little **** finding her master fresh rapemeat."

"Y-yes Sir," she whispers in a disgusted tone, "I will do whatever you say."

I motion for her to stop and turn my tablet around for her to see: on screen there is a picture of Sophie, one of her best friends, whom she just called the most deserving of **** in her friend group.

"Do you think she is prettier than you?" I ask her. The picture must have been taken on a night out in the town; the outfit Sophie is wearing is skimpy, her make up heavy, including red lipstick that I would love to see smudged on my cock.

She nods her head slowly.

"I agree," I tell her and spit in her face, "You look like a disgusting pig next to her. Maybe I really should switch you out -- but for now, you can hold this picture in front of your face and lay down on the couch so I can pretend you're her as I fuck you."

With many a fresh tear in her eyes she takes the tablet and assumes the position as instructed.