Piss

Marty pulls his hips back, drawing his prick from your mouth just long enough for him to slap you hard across the face before shoving his prick back in your mouth, but only the crown. He looks down at you with unconcealed disgust and malice, “Clamp those fucking lips on my dick, fag.”

Your mouth mindlessly clamps around his prick, staring up at him. You don't know what he's about to do to you but your reprogrammed mind knows that whatever it is, he's entitled to do it and you deserve it. Your eyes flutter as his piss streams into your mouth, “Don't lose a drop, faggot. Drink it.”

You don't even think about it, you simply swallow as your mouth fills, again and again. You continue drinking it as it flows down your throat, your mindless servility compelling you to it, and you take it without complaint, without reaction, as he sighs in relief, “You know this might actually be more fun, if it could remember who we are, could realise what it's being made to do, who it used to be.”

“Man, you're a mean fucker,” Allie says cheerfully as she continues making breakfast, “make sure it thanks you when you're done relieving yourself.” Marty slides his prick from your mouth as the stream stops, and you look up submissively.

“Thank you for pissing in my mouth and allowing me to drink it, Sir,” you say instinctively, and he shudders and slaps you again before shoving his prick into your mouth again. You immediately start to suck as his hips begin to roll, pumping his prick down your throat. The muscles of your throat work on him, swallowing on his prick as you take it, sucking him obediently, mindlessly.

“It deserves it, doesn't it?” asks Marty, as he picks up the pace, slamming his hips against your mouth harder and faster, almost violently as he skull-fucks you. He can only grunt and barely speak right now, so thoroughly and ferociously is he throwing himself into ravaging your throat. You continue to take it smoothly, as if this is all you're good for, like it's the only thing you're good at.

“You're probably right,” Allie muses aloud as she looks over her shoulder, watching you, “I wanted to be more merciful. I mean, it was always a good, kind, and very supportive brother, it never questioned my femininity.”

“Yea, Brian was a nice guy, but a good brother would've volunteered its submission to you, would have begged you to reprogram or at least train it, just as soon as it realised what it was,” Marty growls as he slows his hips down and lightens up his thrusts so that he can actually talk, “A real best friend would've told me, would've volunteered itself to let me use it, would've told me it was meant to be your plaything.”

“You're right,” Allie says as she finishes making her breakfast and sits down at the table, watching you getting pounded, contemplating on the various possibilities, “I'll consider it and let you know what I decide. You're welcome to use it as you see fit all the same, though.”

“Thanks, man,” Marty replies as he continues to hammer his hips against your mouth, ramming you relentlessly. You swallow around his prick each time his balls hit your chin, sucking as hard as you can in spite of the breakneck pace of his thrusts. You can tell he's going to blow his load soon and you want it, because you've been programmed well for your new life.

You can feel his cock pulsing in your mouth, in your throat, but you don't know where he's going to drop his load. You don't really care, either, though ... this is what you are, it's where you belong, and you can't wait to make him cum, because soon it'll be Brad's turn and you'll get to suck another cock and earn another load.