Selling Brielle, Part 18

Selling Brielle, Part 18

Story by All These Roadworks (2024).

Author's Note: Writing pays my bills and keeps the lights on - so if you enjoy this story, please consider supporting its creation with the purchase of an e-book or membership from AllTheseRoadworks.com. (Click here to view the store.)

Also - my kinks aren't my politics! I support respect, equity and positive, enthusiastic consent. (Click here to read more on my content policy.)

===

Over the next few hours, as they lay cuddling in bed, Joel laid out his plan to Jillian for how he would fix her problem with the pastor.

She didn’t like it. It wasn’t an instant fix. She would have to continue playing the pastor’s game, and letting him use Brielle and herself as his toys.

“It’s okay, pet,” said Joel. “You’re not really doing these things for him, now. You’re doing them for me. I’ll be able to see them all on my cameras, and your humiliation and embarrassment will arouse me just as much as it arouses him. But I need you to keep up the act, so you and Brielle can get close enough to him to do the things we discussed.”

And when Joel said it like that, it *did* make it better. The things she would be doing would make her feel dirty and disgusting - and in some cases they might hurt - but she would do all that and more if Joel wanted her to. There was very little she wouldn’t do, if it pleased Joel’s cock.

She wiggled her legs, feeling the remnants of Joel’s semen drying on her pussy and inner thighs. She was no longer a virgin now, in the traditional sense. She had allowed Joel’s cock into her cunt, and let him fill her womb with his sperm. And she had loved it.

“I guess I’m really, truly, not a lesbian,” she sighed. “I’m bisexual… or something.”

Joel stroked her hair. “Tell me, pet, does it make you feel more excited to be called bisexual - or to be called a fake lesbian slut?”

She snuggled up to him eagerly. “Fake lesbian slut,” she said. “It feels… right. Like something I deserve. Like the right word for a girl who conspires to turn her wife into her boyfriend’s ****.”

“Then that’s your sexuality, pet,” he said. “Fake lesbian slut. Be a good little fake lesbian slut, and play along with this asshole of a pastor, and if you do your job well, we’ll destroy him. And then you and Brielle can be my slutty little pets forever.”

===

When Jillian got home, there was a box on the front porch, and Jillian could already see from the return address that it had come from the pastor. She frowned, picked it up, and carried it inside with her.

Brielle was asleep on the couch in the lounge room. She was naked, and she had fallen asleep with her hand between her legs. Jillian realised she had literally masturbated herself to sleep. The heterosexual **** porn that Jillian had given Brielle was still playing on the television, and the floor around Brielle was surrounded by dozens of pieces of paper.

Each piece was filled in neat lines, written in childish crayon, that read, “I’m not a lesbian, I’m just a slut. I want to fuck men.”

Jillian picked up Brielle’s phone from the floor, used it to photograph one of the pieces of paper, and then set the resulting image as Brielle’s phone wallpaper. It should be a good reminder to her. Then she gathered up the papers and stuck one on the wall in each room of the house.

When she was done, she knelt down and woke her wife.

“Wake up, baby, it’s morning,” said Jillian.

Brielle’s eyes opened slowly. “Jillian?’ she said.

Jillian kissed her. “You’ve been a good girl, honey,” she said. “You watched so much porn. You were already asleep when I got home.”

Brielle blushed as she remembered her activities from the night before.

“It’s time to get up, sweetie,” said Jillian. “The pastor has sent us a box.”

A look of fear and discomfort passed across Brielle’s eyes - which was exactly what Jillian was feeling, too. But Joel had been clear - she had to play along, and get Brielle to play along too.

She led Brielle to the breakfast table, and there they opened the box together.

There was another box inside the first - a small box, this time - and when they opened that box they found a pair of small metal devices inside.

A note was included, in the pastor’s handwriting.

“Dear girls, I have secured these training devices, for your use in purging your sinful lusts. The devices connect to your clitoris, via a clamp. They are quite sensitive in detecting whether you are sexually aroused. If they detect you are aroused, and that you are within around eight feet of the other device of the pair, they will begin to give you electric shocks. In this way, you will slowly be discouraged from being aroused by your so-called wife. You are to wear these at all times, except for a brief window each day when you may remove them to recharge them.”

Brielle made a noise of distress when Jillian read these words aloud to her. “On my clit?” she said. “Electric shocks?”

“The pastor knows what’s best for us, sweet,’ said Jillian, aware of the cameras watching her everywhere in her house. “And besides, we have ****.”

The girls awkwardly fixed the small devices to their clits, wincing as the clamp bit down. The bullet shape of the device turned out to otherwise nestle quite comfortably in their pussy cleft.

Beneath the box with the devices was a pair of plastic bottles. Each was about 700 ml in size, and filled with white liquid.

There was another note.

“An important component of treating lesbianism is to accustom the sinning woman to the taste of male sperm. Drink up, ladies. Make sure it is all within you by this time tomorrow - and make sure that you masturbate as you drink, to associate the taste with sexual arousal.”

Jillian stared at the bottles. 700 ml each, and both were full. This was far more cum than the pastor himself could possibly have produced. Had he sought donations from - what, the parishioners at the church? Some other source? Might it even be from… animals? Or was it fake, or partially fake - diluted in some way?

Jillian had no way of knowing, and **** in the matter.

“I guess this is our breakfast, baby,” she said, taking up her bottle.

Brielle made a disgusted face. “No!” she said. “I can’t… I can’t just drink… semen…”

Jillian reflected that Brielle had no idea she’d been eating and drinking Joel’s cum for weeks now.

“You have to, baby,” said Jillian. “Or you know what might happen. You might go to jail.”

Brielle whimpered.

Jillian took off her clothes, and sat on the couch, and spread her legs. She opened the bottle of cum, and then began to touch her cunt with one hand - probing her fuckhole, tugging gently at the device attached to her clit - and with the other she lifted the bottle to her mouth and drank a little.

Wherever it came from, it certainly tasted like human semen. She knew it should have disgusted her, but of course she was a fake lesbian slut, and the taste actually excited her.

“See, baby?” she said. “It’s not too bad.”

Brielle reluctantly came and sat on the far end of the couch - carefully more than eight feet from Jillian - and copied Jillian’s actions. Her face scrunched up as she took her first sip of cum - but then relaxed.

“It’s actually not so bad,” she said. “It tastes… normal?”

It tasted like every meal that Jillian had been feeding Brielle for weeks.

“Good girl,” said Jillian. “Keep drinking, and play with yourself, and watch the movie.”

The **** porn was still playing on TV, so both girls played with their pussies, and drank their cum, and watched the girl on the screen being slapped, and held down, so that five men could take turns shoving their cocks into her non-consenting twat.

As Jillian watched the men on the screen discharge their cum into the pretty girl’s twat, she had the momentary thought of holding Brielle down, and pouring the remainder of the sperm directly into her fuckhole, impregnating her with the babies of whatever anonymous man (or animal) had donated his sperm for their degradation. She thought of how Brielle would wail and cry if Jillian did this, and how Jillian would **** her wife to cum anyway, with the semen soaking into her womb.

This was too much for her. She moved across the couch, her mouth still full of her latest gulp of cum, and when she got to Brielle she took Brielle’s bottle from her and put it on the ground, before kissing her wife, and pushing the mouthful of cum past Brielle’s lips and into her mouth.

Brielle moaned, and kissed her back, their tongues mingling the semen in their mouths. Then she squealed, and accidentally swallowed the cum - and a moment later Jillian squealed too. The devices clamped to their clits had shocked them.

“We shouldn’t…” gasped Brielle.

“Our sex is *supposed* to hurt, remember?” said Jillian. “It’s supposed to **** us. Shut up and kiss me.” She took another mouthful of cum from her bottle, and then kissed Brielle, feeding her the cum like a mother bird feeding its chicks, and Brielle swallowed it eagerly. Brielle’s knee had come up between Jillian’s legs and was grinding against her pussy, and Jillian put her free hand on Brielle’s left tit and squeezed it.

Soon they were taking turns, sipping from the sperm and then kissing, mingling the anonymous cum in their mouths. Jillian got her fingers into Brielle’s fuckhole and began fingerfucking her, and then crooking her fingers against Brielle’s G-spot, even as she humped her own twat against her wife’s knee.

The devices shocked them, and shocked them again, and it felt like fair punishment for such slutty behaviour

“You’re not a lesbian, you’re just a slut,” Jillian whispered to Brielle, and she felt Brielle’s pussy squeeze against her fingers in response.

When the bottles were almost empty, Jillian poured the last of hers over her tits, and then brought Brielle’s face down to lick them clean. And when that was done, she poured the last of Brielle’s bottle over Brielle’s face, covering her eyes and cheeks with sticky male sperm - and that was the point at which Brielle orgasmed, squirting over the couch and the floor, squealing as her clit clamp simultaneously shocked her, shaking with humiliation and degradation and lust.

And following that orgasm, the idea came to Jillian that both the pastor and Joel were watching them, right now - watching the naked girls slutting off on the couch, watching Brielle orgasming with sperm on her face - maybe recording the moment to watch again and again in the future. And that brought Jillian to her own orgasm against her wife’s knee.

Brielle started to cry, after she had come down from her orgasm. “I’m such a slut,” she sobbed. “Why am I like this?”

Jillian leaned in, to lick the cum off her wife’s face, and lick away her tears in the process.

“It’s okay, baby,” she said. “I know you’ve made a mess of your life - of our lives. Maybe we *do* need a man to tell us what to do. Maybe we’ve always needed that.”

Brielle looked up at her. “Do you think so?” she said.

“I think maybe we do, yes,” said Jillian. “I just wish it wasn’t a cruel man like the pastor. Wouldn’t it be nice to have a *nice* man, to look after us all the time, and tell us what to do?”

The idea clearly confused Brielle - revolting her lesbian side, and her independent side - but at the same time appealing to her inner submissive, and to the part of her that was confused and scared by the slutty state of her life.

“Yes,” she whispered. “That might be nice.”

Jillian gasped - because her clit device had just shocked her again, registering the arousal that came with the thought of being a sister-**** to Joel alongside Brielle.

“Get down on the ground, baby, and lick up your squirt like a good girl,” said Jillian softly. “And when you’ve licked it all up, you can lick my pussy clean too.”

Jillian thought a second orgasm sounded very nice, but the thought of putting on a further show for Joel sounded even nicer. She hoped he was watching.

And part of her hoped the pastor sent them another bottle of sperm soon…

(TO BE CONTINUED)