slut lesson 3

Molly is standing at the chalkboard. The drawing is new: it depicts two massive, overflowing breasts with a thick cock positioned between them. The cock is labeled 'DIVINE STIMULUS' and the breasts are labeled 'THE PROPHET'S TOOLS.'

"Okay, dolls... listen up!" Molly announces, though her voice cracks with a dopey, breathy giggle. "Today we learn how to use our best tools to make the Man cum. We're talking about... Titty fucking."

She taps the drawing of the breasts with her manicured nail.

"Remember what we said about our tities? They aren't for looking at. They're for working. When a Man wants to fuck your tities, you don't just stand there like a stupid lump. You have to help him. You have to squeeze! You have to use those synthetic implants to trap his cock so tight he can't think about anything except how good you feel."

Molly demonstrates by grabbing her own enormous breasts, crushing them together so the cleavage becomes a deep, narrow canyon between them. Her breathing becomes quick and shallow.

"But here's the most important part, girls. The holy part. While you're doing it while you're feeling that cock sliding between your tities you cannot let your old, lumpy thoughts come back. You cannot think about girls. You cannot think about 'sisterhood.' That's poison."

Her expression becomes intensely serious, though her glassy eyes make it look more like she's daydreaming.

"Every time you feel him thrust against your cleavage, you must say it in your head: 'Thank you, Prophet, for making me straight. Thank you, Prophet, for making me a slut.' You have to thank him for taking away your brain and giving you these tities instead. You have to thank him for curing your disgusting, rainbow stained past."

Molly leans closer to the camera, her swollen lips glistening.

"And then... the finale. When he cums when he sprays all that beautiful, Holy White across your chest that is your test. That is how you prove you're not a dyke anymore."

She mimics the action with her hands, tracing a path from her cleavage up to her collarbone.

"A lesbian would wipe it off. A lesbian would be disgusted. But a real bimbo? A real straight vessel? She licks every single drop off her tities. You lick it clean. You show him that you crave his seed more than you crave anything else. Licking your tities clean is how you wash away the last traces of your old self. It's how you prove you belong to Him."

Molly's stomach gurgles wetly, and she lets out a long, involuntary moan. Her eyes roll back as she begins to practice the lesson on herself, pressing her breasts together with desperate enthusiasm.

"Mmm... thank you... thank you for making me... stupid... thank you for making me... straight..."

The classroom of bimbos begins to chant along in a low, mindless drone: "Thank you Prophet... thank you Prophet..." as Molly continues to squeeze her tities in a trance of synthetic devotion.