Sunday Morning Service

"Did she have any trouble peeing outdoors this morning?"

Vanessa closed her eyes and buried her face in the breakfast bowl, brown tits squashed on the ground, her ass in the air. Peachy-tan adhesive bandages covered each of her nipples in a 'X'. She hadn't done her hair, and it had partially kinked up in her morning... wash. Hosing. It no longer layed flat, but still covered part of her face, her ears, offering some... some kind of privacy for the misery written on her face.

Some flimsy illusion of privacy, at least. A dark little furry shelter while she wagged her bare, tailed butt in the air. Some buffer between her ears and the men talking about -

"Nah," Carter unexpectedly, firmly pushed her broad ass with his foot. The black woman's response, a little indignant squawk, was cut off when her face smooshed right into her mushy, crunchy breakfast . "Found 'er favorite spot just fine, looked around a bit, and then let it loose. Pissed all over, spraying right in front of me without me sayin' nothin'. Real shameless." Without him saying anything?! Except for threatening her the whole way outside! her by her leash!

"It flowed real nice and long. She must've been holding it. I had her wipe herself on the grass. She was a little confused at first, thought she should just drip her pee all over the house, I guess. But she did a good job with that, too."

"Good girl." Brand's voice was sickly sweet behind her.

She... she really hated when he called her a...

She had been a 'good girl' before, before all this. A really good girl, not that she had thought of herself that way at the time but... she had been a hard worker. A mother. A - a real person, a real human. But, peeing in the grass, wiping her... herself on the grass - that was not Vanessa's image of... of any human.

Brand petted Vanessa's upraised sex - cutting her thoughts off, causing her aching thighs - her muscles were still recovering, still getting used to her crawling style of locomotion - to stretch, and her hips to raise with his gentle stroke, prolonging the touch. "That's really good, Nessie," He beamed. He pet her smooth, round ass, and tugged her tail a bit. "Are you sure she wiped herself on the grass, though? Even for her, she seems awfully..." Brand stroked his hand through Vanessa's curly haired pubic area again for confirmation, "Has she been touching herself?" He asked darkly, no longer speaking sweetly.

"She didn't cum, did she?"

Vanessa shook her head, pushing it farther into the bowl, chewed and whimpered a little.

"I've been watchin' her closely. Easy to do, the way she shakes that fat hole around. If she did it wasn't on my watch - I ain't even seen her hump nothin'."

Of course she hadn't!

Well... not... she, she might have but, not after... Vanessa's sore nipples ached just thinking about the previous day. The burning, the, the -

Pigs! Bastards! Fucking...! Vanessa's hands clenched into fists, nails painfully digging into her palms. Painfully. The pain, it... it reminded her of... oh god.

The naked black woman shuddered, and breathed out, and glanced back fearfully. The explosive anger twisting in her gut left, a little emotional seesaw that plummeted quick as it came, leaving her cold and empty and... naked, on the floor.

"Mmm..." Brand's voice rumbled above her. "Have you been touching yourself?" His tone... "Did you cum?" Vanessa could feel her vagina contract in fear, lips drawing in as her stomach tightened. "Turn around and face me..." Vanessa lifted her head from her bowl and the discordant mixture of scrambled eggs, cereal, milk, and fruit that it contained. Food that she had prepared herself, and then... begged for, begged from Carter. Kissing and licking and pawing the crotch of his pants.

She turned, slowly and awkwardly on all fours. She her eyes off the floor, them to face up. Brand was bent at the waist, his hands on his knees.

"Uggh, you're a messy little Nessie, aren't you?" His lip curled a little.

There was a pause.

"Answer the question, you dumb slut," Carter hissed quietly.

"Y-Yes!" Vanessa answered before Carter even finished. She paused, and swallowed, and answered more slowly, "Yes, Daddy, I got all messy."

The big white man grabbed a fistful of Vanessa's unkempt hair and roughly wiped her lips and face with it. "Try to eat from your bowl a little more carefully," He chided her, "Use those big lips and your tongue, okay?" He instructed her, never minding that her face had been pushed right into her food.

His hand stayed tangled in her hair.

Oh, a - a question.

"Yes, Daddy. I'll use -" Vanessa felt sick recalling his words, but she had... where she had left off, the words dangled in the air, "I'll use my big lips and my tongue. I won't be messy." She promised.

"Now..." All traces of humor were gone, "Did you cum without permission? Have you been touching yourself?"

Vanessa looked into his dangerous eyes, her own peepers big and brown and wide. She shook her head as best she could while he held her hair. "No, Daddy. No, I didn't cum. I didn't touch myself or hump myself this morning." Vanessa shuffled her knees. Brand didn't respond. She tried again, as earnest as she could make her voice, "I promise."

"You're very wet, 'Nessa," Brand held out his other hand as proof. Each thick, white finger was dampened by Vanessa's arousal.

She... she knew. "I know, Daddy." Her voice was quiet shame. She had felt it, driving her mad, even before Brand started 'petting' her. Now... after petting... and even more talking about it... the urge to rub her thighs together was almost unbearable. Vanessa's body rocked back and forth, her butt bobbing almost imperceptibly up and down.

Brand looked down at her a moment. His thumb brushed her bottom lip, pulling it down before it flapped back into place. "... So what is it?"

Vanessa didn't know how to answer what was wrong with her. It was everything. It was even knowing that she couldn't... couldn't touch it or...

"She's in heat showing herself off," Carter supplied for her. "Getting her shithole flushed, gettin' herself hosed and peein' and eatin' out of her doggie bowl. She's in her natural nigger state, and her cunt's lovin' it."

"No..." Vanessa whispered.

"No?" Brand tipped her chin up. "Uncle Carter is wrong?"

"N-no. He's..." He was right, but it wasn't just that she was... everything was taken from her. She was... she was just her holes and... it was the only comfort she... she had been ! And more and... and her body was trying to, her mind was... she didn't know but...

"I don't know," Vanessa said, staring at Brand, trying to put her thoughts together, trying to verbalize - she had been so good with words. She should have been able to...

"I..."

"Stop mumbling." Carter's voice from the side cut off her disjointed, rambling thoughts and pain exploded in her breast, leaving her gasping into the floor, fists pounding.

Without further warning Carter had kicked Vanessa's hanging, sore teat with his shoe. She hissed and, for a split second looked up at him hatefully.

Fear gripped her, immediately, squashing her anger, killing it. Fear of his reaction if he... fear turned into... she dropped her head quickly down at the offending shoe and... kissed it. Her tongue parted her lips a little, and... again, on the top of his dirty white sneaker. Little wet circles started planting themselves all over his shoe. Peck after little wet peck.

"Hmph. No fancy words. Just showin' what you are, ain't cha'?"

He scared her so much. Carter. God she was scared, and... and wet. How could her life, how could she have changed so quickly?

You're a nigger. Vanessa squeezed her own breasts, twisting them painfully. Hating herself, hurting herself while she prostrated herself on the floor, kissing.

"There, there..." Brand, unnoticed had knelt and he cooed in her ear and... a big big hand circled her wrist gently, and pulled it away - he noticed! He noticed Vanessa hurting her own tits. She... She was so stupid! Why was she...?

She stopped kissing, and stopped twisting.

"There, girl..." He pet Vanessa's behind, her...

"Oooh-ooo," Vanessa's cheeks sucked in and her mouth formed an 'O', and she moaned.

Carter and Brand both laughed. Vanessa flushed.

Brand's fingers circled her puffy quim, massaging deep.

"You're dripping, Nessie, little monkey." His soiled hand appeared in front if her face, cupped. "Lick."

M-monkey! Vanessa licked. Pink, wet licks.

"All that from Uncle Carter looking at your holes. You're a mess."

Messy Nessie.

"What do you say we get you covered up?"

C-covered up... Covered...

"Clothes?" Vanessa asked, looking up again - this time with her big brown eyes in a kind of dreamy awe.

Brand's gray eyes crinkled in a warm smile. "Yes, clothing. People clothing. Is that something you'd like?"

She licked. Clothing! "Y-yes, Daddy!" Real clothing!

Vanessa was well aware of how pathetic her excitement was, but after her long weekend... God what was the last thing she wore? The last time her forty year old body had any privacy? That awful, elegant dress that she had on for Carter, two long days ago?

She didn't care how pathetic it was, just the thought of being in her own clothing again, in the house, almost had her bouncing up and down on her hands and knees.

Brand picked a little piece of egg out of her hair and put it in her mouth. He brushed more mess into the bowl.

"Let's go get you cleaned up and see what we can find."