The Rules

"Let me introduce you to my little toy," Daphne said, her British accent echoing in the hall as we approached the shivering women.

She walked right up to the blonde bimbo, looking her up and down with a predatory, possessive hunger. "This… is Tina."

Tina whimpered again, her huge breasts bouncing slightly with her nervous breaths (Dear God they were huge), but she didn't dare look Daphne in the eye.

She kept her gaze fixed firmly on the concrete floor.

"When I was growing up," Daphne continued, circling Tina like a shark inspecting a bleeding seal, "I had the absolute misfortune of attending a very strict, very posh Christian school for girls. And, surprise surprise, the pious little cunts there didn't take too kindly to the fact that I preferred looking at their tits in the locker room rather than praying to their invisible man in the sky."

Daphne stopped in front of Tina, her combat boots loud against the floor.

"I was a pariah. A target," Daphne said, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous growl.

"There was this group of three girls who made my life an absolute, waking Hell. They tormented me. Humiliated me. Made sure I knew my place as the disgusting little dyke."

Daphne reached out, tracing a single, calloused finger down the deep, sweaty cleavage between Tina's massive breasts.

"Tina here... Tina was a loyal little adjutant. Not the leader. No no. Something like that requires smarts, charisma. She was just a sidekick. The one who held my arms back while the others spat in my face."

I watched, fascinated and horrified. Tina was whimpering louder now, her eyes welling with tears, her heavily modified body vibrating with sheer terror.

"So," Daphne smirked, her dark eyes flashing with malicious glee. "Once I got my hands on the app... once I realized what it could do... I decided to track down some old mates. My dear old schoolmates. My sweet little Tina here was among the first ones. I knew I could improve her life by showing her that there was nothing to fear about the sapphic arts. And definitely not the sweet, sweet taste of a powerful woman’s cunt. Ain’t that right, doll?"

Daphne suddenly coiled her thumb and forefinger and viciously flicked Tina's left nipple.

Tina flinched violently, a choked, muffled squeak escaping her throat.

“Yes, m-ma’am,” she squeaked out.

Her body language was entirely subservient, screaming with the conditioned fear of a prey animal that knew any resistance would only result in worse punishment.

"I see," I muttered, my eyes locked on the still bouncing nipple. "So… Did you... adjust her body with the app?"

Daphne threw her head back and let out a loud, genuine laugh.

"Christ, Jack, of course I did! Do you think her God made them like this? She used to be this flat-chested, bony little twig of a thing. A stiff board. But once I finally pushed her to the full one-hundred mark... I converted her pathetic little frame into something much, much more fun and bouncy. Now it’s easy to fall asleep between her tits."

Daphne grabbed both of Tina's massive breasts, squeezing the heavy flesh roughly, mashing them together. Tina let out a soft, pained moan, her eyes squeezing shut.

"She's a model subby little lesbian these days," Daphne purred, burying her face briefly in Tina's blonde hair. "I bet she always was. She was just fighting her true feelings during our school days. Right, doll?"

“Yes, ma’am,” she answered without hesitation.

This wasn’t the first time she had heard this question.

There was no way it was the truth, I could see it in her eyes.

Daphne let go of Tina and turned her attention to my side of the lane.

She took a few slow, measured steps toward Sophie.

Sophie stiffened, her eyes widening behind her glasses. She looked at me, a ****, silent plea screaming in her eyes.

But I just watched.

I needed to see what she was planning.

"And what about your girl here?" Daphne asked, circling Sophie now. "I gave you the intel on my combatant. Only fair you return the favor. Who is this nervous little librarian?"

"She was a colleague," I said, keeping my voice neutral, hiding the anxiety gnawing at my gut. "Mainly just an arrogant, stuck-up cunt who thought she was better than everyone else in the office."

Sophie gave me a glance.

It was part fury, part sadness.

This might have been the first time she actually heard my true opinion of her.

"Arrogant, huh?" Daphne murmured, stopping directly in front of Sophie. "I love the arrogant ones."

Without warning, Daphne reached out and greedily cupped Sophie's left breast.

Sophie gasped, her whole body jerking, but her feet remained glued to the floor.

Apparently my order to keep quiet was still valid, she wasn’t letting out a single sound, even though her body wanted to.

She just stood there, completely exposed, her chest heaving as the woman squeezed and kneaded her bare flesh.

"She's cute," Daphne admitted, her thumb brushing roughly over Sophie's hardening nipple. "A bit small for my tastes, but nice skin. Tell me, Jack... is her tiny little body going to be transformed once she reaches a hundred? Do you have your ideal cup size in mind, or do you prefer them natural?"

My heart skipped a beat.

I quickly recognized what she was doing.

It was a trap. A brilliant, subtle psychological probe.

Daphne was trying to figure out Sophie's current submission score. By asking if she will be transformed once she reaches a hundred, she was fishing to see if I would admit that Sophie wasn't there yet.

If Daphne knew she wasn't fully broken, she would know I had a weakness. She would know Sophie still had a shred of free will, a shred of hesitation that could be exploited in the coming contest.

And there was that tiny, tiny chance she could be. She was only at +96.

I let out a dismissive scoff. "Why would you assume she isn't at her perfect form already?" I countered, my voice dripping with bored confidence. "Not everyone likes fucking cartoon balloons, Daphne. Some of us appreciate… real."

Daphne rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed about my judgmental attitude. "Suit yourself, mate. But ‘real’ usually just means boring."

Before I could process her next move, Daphne's hand dropped from Sophie's breast and shot straight down between her thighs.

With a brutal, unceremonious shove, Daphne jammed two fingers deep into Sophie's unprotected cunt.

Sophie let out a muffled, agonizing shriek—a ****, high-pitched whine that was trapped behind her closed teeth.

Not even my order prevented that sound, her panicking body had overruled her mind.

Her knees buckled slightly, her hips jerking forward as Daphne’s fingers invaded her wet, sensitive core.

Sophie's hands flew up, grabbing Daphne's wrist, trying desperately to push the invading hand away, but she was too weak, too terrified.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" I snapped, taking a step forward.

Daphne ignored me, aggressively pumping her fingers in and out of Sophie's dripping slit, making a loud, obscene squelching noise that echoed in the quiet warehouse.

Sophie was crying now, tears streaming down from behind her glasses, her body thrashing weakly against the violation.

"Relax, Jack, just checking the competition," Daphne smirked, giving her fingers one final, cruel twist before yanking them out.

Sophie gasped, stumbling backward, wrapping her arms around her waist as a thick string something slick dripped down her inner thigh.

Daphne wiped her glistening fingers casually on her own denim jeans.

"You’d probably get that fixed even if you liked her small like this." Daphne critiqued, her tone mocking.

“Get what fixed?!”, I asked, getting harder and harder to keep the anger from my voice.

"That girl is no virgin. I mean, I can practically feel the echoes in there. I like to keep my bitches as tight as humanly possible. Modified to the absolute limit. So it feels tight, painful, and virginal for them every single time I shove something thick inside."

She grinned like a lunatic.

No, she WAS a sadistic lunatic.

This woman… She was…

She was the female version of me, wasn’t she?

Oh God.

“Don’t touch her- or my women- again. Not without my permission”, I growled, sounding more angry than I had intended.

She turned back to Tina, gesturing to the bimbo's massive, swaying breasts.

"Relax mate. You want to feel this one’s udders?" Daphne offered, a wicked glint in her eye. "Go ahead. Slap those babies around. See what a real hundred-score bitch feels like."

I stared at Tina's ridiculous, boobalicious body.

Little Jack throbbed.

The urge to walk over, to sink my hands into those massive, artificial tits, to feel the absolute softness… They had to be soft, right? Bouncy? Elastic? How long did they jiggle if you gave them a good slap?

No.

Stop, Jack.

I looked at Daphne. She was smiling, waiting for me to take the bait.

If I touched Tina, I was playing her game.

I was already letting her dictate the pace. She was constantly trying to take the lead, constantly pushing boundaries, trying to establish herself as the alpha in the room.

It was a relentless campaign of dominance.

"I'll pass," I said coldly, crossing my arms. "I don't like playing with other people's sloppy seconds. Especially not… deformed ones."

Daphne's smile faltered for a fraction of a second, a flash of genuine irritation crossing her features before she masked it with a shrug.

"Your loss, mate," she said, turning her back on me and walking over to stand behind Tina.

I let out a slow breath, and turned my attention back to Sophie.

She was a mess. She was crying silently, her whole body shaking, her hands covering her violated crotch.

I stepped closer to her, lowering my voice so Daphne couldn't hear.

"You can speak," I commanded softly. "But only in whispers. Understand?"

Sophie nodded frantically, sucking in a **** gulp of air. "Yes," she breathed, her voice raspy and broken. "Yes, Jack, what is..."

"Listen to me very carefully," I whispered, my eyes scanning her naked, shivering form. "I need to know what happened. Where did all of you go? Did someone come and take you? Did someone… undress you?"

Sophie shook her head. "No... no, I don't know..."

"Think!" I hissed, grabbing her by the shoulders.

"I am!" she sobbed quietly. "The last thing I remember... I was standing by the heavy door at the entrance. You told us to stay there. We were just standing there. And then... I blinked. It felt like I just blinked. And suddenly I was here. In this room. Naked. Standing next to this mud pit. I don't remember walking. I don't remember taking my clothes off. Nobody touched me. I swear!"

A cold chill washed over me.

She didn't remember.

It was mind control.

It shouldn’t have surprised me… and it didn’t. The app was already doing feats of magic and mind control that shouldn’t have been possible. What’s one more?

It was quite possible that Daphne, me and our combined slaves were the only people currently in the warehouse. No goons in black suits working in the backrooms.

They didn’t need any.

Before I could ask Sophie anything else, the sharp, deafening crackle of static erupted from a massive PA speaker mounted on the wall above the mud pit.

KRZZZZT.

"Users," the booming, synthetic AI voice announced, silencing the entire room. "Let me announce the rules for the first duel."

Sophie flinched, looking up at the speaker in terror. Daphne leaned forward.

Me and Daphne knew the rules already, they were in the app as we chose our competitors.

I guess this was more for their sake.

"This bout is a test of endurance, degradation, and humiliation," the AI dictated. "At the starting line, you will find the necessary equipment."

A small pneumatic hiss sounded from the floor. Next to Sophie’s bare feet, a small metal hatch slid open, revealing a shallow compartment.

Inside was a thick, smooth, black silicone buttplug.

But it wasn't just a standard toy. Attached to the flared base of the plug was a heavy steel chain, about one foot long. And at the end of the chain was a solid, cast-iron weight ball.

Next to it was tube of lube.

"The plug must be inserted into the competitor's rectum," the voice explained coldly.

Sophie looked down at the iron ball, her face draining of all color.

"The competitors must enter the mud pit. Upon the starting signal, they must crawl on their hands and knees through the mud to the opposite side of the arena."

The AI paused, letting the task sink in.

"They are strictly forbidden from touching their chain or the weight with their hands," the voice boomed. "They must pull the weight through the thick mud using only the gripping strength of their anal sphincter. If the plug detaches and slips out during the crawl," the AI continued, "the competitor is permitted to stop, retrieve the plug, and re-insert it, and restart the race."

Sophie’s terror was slowly being replaced by a deep, all-consuming disgust.

"Once a competitor reaches the opposite side of the pit, it’s time for the final task.” The AI voice paused. “Before the duel begins, the users dip their shoes into the mud. The competitors must use their tongue to completely clean the mud from their user's shoes. The users can’t move from their positions. The first user to have their shoes deemed spotless will be declared the victor of the first duel."

The static cut out, leaving a ringing silence in the warehouse.

Sophie turned to me, her expression one of unadulterated revulsion and panic.

"Jack..." she whispered, her voice cracking. "Jack, what is this? What in the world is going on here?! Please! I can't... I can't put that thing in me! I… I have never put anything in my ass! And the mud... licking your shoes... please, you have to tell me… why?!"

She still had no clue.

She didn't know about the app.

She didn't know about the developers, or the duel, or the fact that my entire life, my memories, and my power rested on her ability to drag a piece of iron with her asshole.

I stepped right into Sophie's personal space, towering over her.

I grabbed her by the jaw, my fingers digging hard into her soft cheeks, forcing her to look up into my eyes.

"Shut up," I hissed, my voice a venomous, terrifying whisper.

Sophie froze, her breath hitching in her throat.

"You don't need to know what's going on," I told her, my eyes boring into hers, projecting every ounce of dominance and malice I possessed. "The only thing you need to care about right now is winning this fucking race."

I squeezed her jaw tighter, making her wince.

"I am giving you an order, Sophie. The most important order I will ever give you. You are going to take that plug. You are going to shove it up your ass. You are going to get in that mud, and you are going to crawl like the filthy little bitch you are."

I leaned in, my lips inches from her ear.

"And you are going to lick my shoes clean.”

Okay, full disclosure. I was planning to relaunch my Patreon last weekend and had everything lined up - reading a few chapters ahead of what I publish here and exclusive short stories - but apparently some policies at Patreon have changed. The main issue appears to be my use of "hyperrealistic images". So yeah, to start using patreon, my choices are either stop using images alltogether or go back to my comic style of ai images. I think it would rather choose latter. But it will take at least a week to transform all my new images to that style, so I cant use Patreon quite yet. (Just to be clear, I won't stop publishing chapters here for free, this is for people who want to read ahead.)

I've also now created an account at Subscribestar. But, from what I've read on the net, in some cases it can take a long time until they approve you. But I'll let you know when they do. (I'll replace this note with links to my account). In the meanwhile, as much as I liked the hyperrealistic style, I think I should return to my comic style (which is still realistic, just with a drawn aesthetic.)

So, yeah, right now I'm trying to get things set up for a second attempt. Please stay tuned.

Oh yeah, check out my third story The Sweetest Corruption if you haven't yet! It'll be a somewhat shorter running serial, if you consider ~70 chapters to be short.