Psychological readjustment

Alma returned about an hour later to find Lisa lying on her back, staring at the ceiling, her body occasionally twitching and spasming violently. The young woman had soiled herself as expected but hopefully her body got at least some nutrients out of the meal before expelling it. She was eating for two after all.

Alma could see the **** was working wonders on her, the cowgirl would be having all sorts of troubling visions that would persist for hours. She knew that repeating this would over time have a lasting affect on her captive but it was only a part of her broader plan to truly break her, to mold her into the daughter she always wanted.

She set about cleaning Lisa up, thoroughly washing her down with a wet rag, ensuring she got to every nook and cranny. She had even untied Lisa to ease her circulation, confident in the knowledge that she was going nowhere in her **** out state.

After changing the bedsheets the old woman sat up on the bed, resting her back against the headboard and positioned Lisa at her side so they were facing each other, the younger woman leaning slightly across the older. They sat like this for some time, Alma stroking Lisa's face as she filled her head with confusing notions, calling her her sweet little girl, and praising her for being so good.

Eventually Alma unbuttoned her blouse letting her massive tits flop free, her white flesh shimmering in the candle light and her huge, red nipples pointing at Lisa like angry strawberries. Alma reached out and cupped the back of Lisa's head, pulling the docile young woman in to her chest. To Alma's delight, Lisa's mouth soon opened and took in the nipple which she suckled at gently, the old woman stroking her hair and cooing kind words in her ear. Before long Alma was stroking herself too, her soaking wet slit demanding attention and soon her slippery fingers were also offered to Lisa, and accepted without protest.

Finally, when Alma sensed a flicker of cognisance returning to her captive she quickly went about securing her to the bed once more, this time using irons she had dragged up from the basement, fixing them tightly to the underside of the bed so that Lisa's arms were held in place by her side.

Her work done for the night, Alma left Lisa to sleep it off and stepped out into the night, standing before the bonfire she had lit out back hours before. She stared at it for a long time before she remembered to toss the soiled bedding into it, grimacing as dark smoke began to billow. Then she picked up items from the pile at her feet and tossed them into the flames, one by one. First a shirt, small... made for a lady. Next, pants of a similar style, followed by a pair of boots and finally a gunbelt, the gun having been stashed away somewhere safe.

Alma watched the flames burn brightly until the the smell of burning shit drove her away, the image of the young woman's gunbelt blackening in the flames lingering in her mind long after she had gone inside. She wouldn't be needing that any more.