Tug of War

Samantha kept pulling on her bottoms trying to cum again even with her anus and pussy feeling entirely too sensitive from overuse. Tiffany came behind Samantha giving her a view of her ass as the fabric became more and more wedged between her cheeks. She felt her pussy contract even as the pain started to encroach on the pleasure, and her anus started to feel as though there was not enough lubricant left. It didn’t matter to Samantha as she tried to push through everything and cum again.

Tiffany brought her face down close enough to Samantha’s ass that she knew Samantha could feel her breathing and know where she was. She hoped her obscene view of this obscene display would somehow dissuade Samantha from continuing, but at this point Tiffany had touched and seen everything, Samantha wasn’t bothered at all. Samantha was consumed by a need to cum over and over allowing the pleasure to wash away any other feeling of humiliation or degradation that would otherwise have taken her to a dark place she didn’t want to be anymore.

Samantha didn’t want to ignore Tiffany entirely, and thought she was showing her submissiveness by thinking of the view she was giving and trying to not only please herself, but also Tiffany by pulling herself back putting her ass in Tiffany’s face.

Rather than taking it as an act of submission Tiffany took it as act of defiance as she was now only millimeters from her nose being right against Samantha’s bottoms. Tiffany’s frustration was mounting, the Samantha of only a few hours ago wouldn’t have been able to tolerate this, and yet she seemed to be getting more and more into it. Samantha’s hands continued to pull on her bottoms pumping the two dildos in and out of herself even as the bottoms themselves began to tear revealing more of her barely covered flesh. The steam and sweat covered her body as juices had almost completely coated her lower half.

Despite Samantha being entirely focused on self pleasure, not even caring about modesty, and being completely changed from the woman she was this morning Tiffany was sure there had to be something she could do to bring back the Samantha she loved to torment. She wanted Samantha to be a crying, broken mess, being paraded around by her leash naked on all fours. Instead she had somehow found strength in submission and letting herself be whatever Tiffany expected.

A part of Tiffany that she would never acknowledge was impressed, but she didn’t come here to be impressed, she came here to literally dehumanize her sister. She decided to try a game of chicken with her sister by pretending to be concerned. She grabbed a towel and knelt behind her sister.

“Oh my god. You are such a mess!”

Samantha didn’t care if she was a mess, her whole life was a mess, she just wanted to keep cumming to hold back the thoughts of all the indignities she had suffered. Even as the lube dried and her holes felt the friction she learned to enjoy that too over the idea of letting herself even think for a moment of what she had let herself become.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Samantha continued to ignore her until Tiffany started to pull at Samantha’s bottom, Samantha tried to just pull harder as she felt another orgasm nearing, but as Tiffany pulled back against her, Samantha was **** to remember their agreement and realized the bottoms represented her literal humanity. She hoped that her juices and sweat could somehow be her savior by making her bottoms more difficult to grip or even disgusting her sister but Tiffany dug her fingers under the waistband and pulled harder.

Despite a nearing orgasm Samantha began to lose her rhythm as she filled with fear. She tried to pull the dildos deeper into her ass and pussy as if a more **** pumping would somehow offset the fear but as Tiffany’s grip became stronger she knew or felt if she lost this game that meant admitting she was a pet.

Tiffany had assured her that it was her decision, but the admission was supposed to be signified by her removing her bottoms and she didn’t trust Tiffany to actually let it be her choice. Samantha pulled one way, as Tiffany pulled another and the tearing was becoming more and more prominent.

Despite the fact that Samantha felt like she was fighting for her literal life, not in the sense that she would die but in the sense that she would cease to be human if the bottoms came off, she was still trying to get off by pulling the dildos into herself and out even if she was pulling a lot harder to fight Tiffany.

She tried to disappear into the pleasure, but as she felt the smaller tears in the fabric becoming larger she began to tremble at the idea that they’d be rendered unwearable and that too would be taken as admission of being a pet. She felt she had to surrender as she had no idea what tearing them to the point they couldn’t be worn would mean for her.

She didn’t know whether to keep fighting or surrender her bottoms being slid down. She wondered if she could keep them from sliding past her feet, and still technically be wearing them, allowing her to maintain her humanity that way.