To ask Eve

"I have a lot of ideas for how this should go. But I realized that my favorite one is to help you help me. Let's have a special time that we come up with together. Tell me honestly," John said, "What is the worst thing you can imagine me doing to you right now?"

Eve stopped. She knew that whatever she said, she would surely have to do. So she tried to think of things in an emotional way, rather than physical. "What's the worst thing you could do to me? Taking this from me. Right now, in this moment, I'm a normal person. Returning me to how I was - forcing me to strip and destroy these clothes. Reminding me that I'm not normal, that I'll never again be normal. That for the rest of my life I will surely be passed from monster to monster each more horrific than the last. That half the time I wont even know what I'm doing. I wont be myself."

John frowned. Then he laughed. "That's it? Really? All that I've done, and that's the worst you can think of? You really can't think of anything worse I can do to you other than 'strip me and destroy my clothes'? I know you're smarter than me - but you must be either much more dumb than I thought, or think I'm much more idiotic than I am. Here, let me help."

John reached into his pocket and pulled out a giant bottle of tabasco sauce - a special order, the hottest they had ever made. They called it "the scorpion," and recommended that you not get any on your hands. It could cause burns - or worse - very quickly. He set it on the countertop.

"How about now?"

Eve's eyes widened.

John pulled out his phone, set it on the counter pointed at her, then set it to record. The red light shone, and Evelyn realized that everything that was about to happen would be broadcast to all of her friends from her old life. Any attempt she made to contact anyone would be edited out. It wouldn't even be odd. She was already seen as a whore.

"How about NOW?"

Eve's eyes closed, and her face fell.

"Yeah," John said. "But let's not get ahead of ourselves. Your idea had some merit. It just needed some... spice to it. Here, let me help." John grabbed some scissors from the drawer nearby, then walked over to her and stood with his cock inches from her face.

"I must say, Evelyn. You are beautiful. Your name is beautiful, your body is lithe and well-proportioned. You know how to dress well, and your eyes have a cutting edge of intelligence that I find quite appealing. Your face, too, is beautiful. Especially with that makeup. Open your eyes."

She did. Her eyes opened and she saw John's cock pointed right at them. John held the scissors in his hand. Eve couldn't look away from them, and felt herself start to shake a bit in fear.

With no warning, John began to piss on her.

Directly on her face, in fact, as he continued.

Evelyn felt incredible shame as she listened to him speak. The stream hit her right in the eyes and mouth, dripping down onto her clothes. There was so much. He must have been building this stream up for awhile.

"But who cares about a face, really? You can pretty yourself up with makeup, but all it takes is a little bit of water to show the whore underneath. And the whore in you is more beautiful still. For example..."