Chapter 29

Leila felt the changing room’s air sticking to her skin, much hotter than usual, sweat pouring off her, as she sat next to her locker in her leotard. The other girls, her teammates, were laughing, naked, and coming towards her.

Lena, her best friend, the one who braided her hair before meets, was pulling at the strap of her leotard, fingers brushing the nipple beneath the thin fabric.

“Leila, come play!” Lena’s smile was the same, but her body looked like Grace, pale skin, nobbly knees, no pubic hair, and cherry tipped nipples. Then her hair turned blonde, and Leila realised ... it was Grace.

Leila jerked back, but the walls seemed to close in, and the girls closed in on her, groping her, pulling at her hair.

“Show us your pussy, Leila!”

Leila tried to cover herself, but the hands were everywhere, fingers pinching her costume, until it just seemed to fall apart, and she felt herself naked, the girls’ hands all over every inch of her body.

Leila sprinted out of the changing room, fleeing the girls, and onto the gym floor, but found herself in front of an audience, on the gym floor, still naked, the crowd chanting her name.

“Leila, show us your pussy!” the crowd chanted.

Her parents were in the bleachers, naked, her mother straddling her father, his hands on her hips, his mouth on her breasts— “Mummy, help me!” Leila screamed, but her mother only turned, her face flushed, her lips curved in a smile that was all wrong— “It’s okay, sweetheart,” her mother purred, her fingers beckoning. “Join us.”

Then the man lifted his head. It wasn’t her father. It was the monster. “Child ... come here and join me and your mummy.”

Leila gasped awake, her back arching off the bench in the cell, her skin slick with cold sweat. The screens enveloping the glass cell flickered with the usual horror, Grace, spread on the floor, her mouth stretched around Pembroke’s cock.

Leila’s hands flew to her body, it was still in her school uniform, the one Pembroke had picked for her. She was still here, her nightmare was real.

Across the cell, just feet away, Grace lay on the bench, curled on her side, her school uniform wrinkled, her skirt riding up her thigh, the white of her panties peeking from under the hem.

Leila buried her face in her hands. This could not be real.

---------- What seemed like hours passed. Grace woke up, sat up like a robot watching videos of herself being raped, of her own mother, naked, and also being interviewed by Pembroke about her own disappearance.

Leila watched from the corner of her eye, her lip curled in disgust. Sick. Weirdo. Freak.

Finally, Grace’s eyelids drooped, her body slumping back onto the bench. Only then did Leila move, creeping to the toilet bowl with the quiet desperation of someone always watched but desperate to relieve herself.

“Hey, Leila...” Grace’s voice was soft, hesitant. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

Leila’s hands fisted in her lap on the toilet bowl. Bitch.

“Fuck off,” she hissed. “Don’t look at me. Don’t talk to me. Don’t breathe near me, you sick freak.”

--------- Leila’s fingers traced her plaid skirt for the thousandth time. She ignored the horrible screens, the disgusting girl lying meters away. She could only lie in wait for her rescue.

Then, the screens turned off. A loud creak. The door opened. Grace stirred.

The monster had returned.

“Ahhh, my precious girls.” Pembroke lounged in the doorway, his dressing gown parted to reveal the pale, hair-matted slope of his belly, and the soft, veined weight of his thick flaccid cock resting against his thigh.

“Leila, as my obedient little slut...” His fingers drummed his temple, mocking. “You’ll be thrilled to hear your Master has gotten away with it all. “No traces. No clues. Your darling mummy and daddy have not a fucking hope of ever finding you!”

Leila tried not to look between his legs. All she knew was, she had to humour him. Surely she would be rescued, she just had to make sure he didn’t defile her anymore than he already had.

“Now, now, my precious little cunts...” Pembroke grinned. “I know what you’re wondering ... What game shall we play today? “Grace!” A sharp clap of his hands. “Wakey-wakey, darling. Both of you.” He held up two bundles of fabric ... shiny, skimpy. “I’ve got costumes for my good girls. Pretty ones.”

The girls glanced at each other as they stirred from the bench.

“Now, first, you girls need to get smooth and clean, Grace, why don’t you pass me those clothes ... and those ... filthy little panties of yours.” He giggled full of mirth then turned to Leila. “You. Yours too.” His hand snapped out, fingers beckoning. “Clothes. Panties. Now.”

The girls obeyed. Grace moved first, peeling off he school uniform. The panties came last, damp and crumpled, tossed at his feet like an offering.

Leila followed, her jaw clenched tight, as she stripped, right down to her black knickers.

“Get those knickers off Leila, I want you naked fully, or you will be beaten, come on, easy ... that’s it child ... yes, see ... that wasn’t so hard was it?”

Leila was fully naked again, the air hitting between her legs, as she shyly brought her clothes up to her captor.

“Now children ... time for you to clean up, Grace, here is the razor, ensure that you and Leila are smooth, and time to teach Leila how to ensure she is clean inside and out!”

Grace, now fully naked, gingerly approached Pembroke and held her hand out for the razor. Her other hand went over her mons, self consciously feeling the stubble. Leila cowered in the corner, her arms locked over her breasts and crotch.

Pembroke stepped back outside the cell, licking his lips as the water sluiced over their bodies. Grace soaped herself first then turned to Leila, her hands sliding over shoulders, breasts, thighs. Leila stood rigid, eyes squeezed shut, her teeth sunk into her lip as Grace’s fingers brushed where she didn’t want to be touched.

Grace used the razor first, between her legs and under her arms, while Leila scrubbed her hair, the water drenching her face, hiding her tears. For a moment, the soapy curtain was a shield. But then she felt Grace’s fingers on her stomach, and opened her eyes and saw the top of her wet blonde head against her groin, razor in hand.

Leila’s legs parted automatically, as the razor scraped against her most intimate flesh as she stared up at the showerhead. Pembroke’s cock stiffened as Grace’s fingers peeled her cheeks apart revealing the dark, tight pucker of her asshole, in contrast to Grace’s own rose colored butthole. Their youthful bodies, barely sprung with hair to begin with, he smiled, as the whole process was completed quickly.

“Now, Leila ... watch what Grace does to her bottom. This will be part of your routine too, sweetheart.”

Leila’s mind stuttered as Grace reached for the smaller shower attachment, its rubber tip shaped like a dildo. With a click, the water stopped mid-stream from the showerhead and burst from the attachment in a pulsing jet.

Grace turned, her back to Leila, and bent over, one had yanking her cheeks apart, the other pressing the dildo inside herself. The water hissed as it forced its way inside as Grace gasped.

Leila spun toward Pembroke in panic. “No ... please—” Her hands clawed at the air, useless, desperate. “That could hurt me ... please, I don’t know what that’ll do to me!”

Don’t worry, Leila. I’m not going to damage my property.” He sighed in impatience. “This is just to clean you. Both of you.” His eyes flickered toward Grace, who whimpered, her thighs trembling as she pulled the showerhead from her ass with a wet, obscene pop.

“It’s okay,” Grace said softly to her, as she waddled toward the toilet, her legs spread just enough to let the water drip down her thighs. She sat down on the toilet and the toilet water churned, swirling with what her body expelled.

Leila watched horrified as Grace looked down at the toilet water, flushed, and head bowed, skipped back to pick up the showerhead lying abandoned on the tiles. She picked it up, the pulsing jet hissing to life as she pressed it back inside herself.

“Got to be clean, Leila,” Pembroke crooned, his voice dripping with false warmth. “It takes a few goes ... but it’s necessary. I don’t want shit on my cock...” his eyes fixed on Leila’s saucer sized brown eyes staring back at him in horror. “Or my fingers ... or my tongue, when I enjoy your sweet little assholes!”

“I’m sure you don’t want that either ... do you, Leila?” He tilted his head at the frightened teenager. “You didn’t enjoy that dessert from Grace’s ass ... did you? Why ... maybe you did?”

Pembroke giggled as Grace skipped back onto the toilet bowl, another loud rasp of humiliation as she shat out more filth from inside her.

“Well,” he sighed, suddenly prim and proper, “you may enjoy the taste of shit, child...” he tried not to laugh as Leila’s eyebrows shot up in useless indignation. “But I don’t. And that’s what matters. Grace, when you are done, make sure she is too.”

Leila’s hands flapped in front of her small breasts like a trapped bird’s wings. Grace held up the showerhead, her sad eyes pleading, “It’s okay, it doesn’t hurt, I promise ... just let me ... just bend over for me, okay?”

The nozzle hissed to life, pulsing in Grace’s grip. Leila silently prayed as she presented her bottom and felt the metal against her anus. Her mouth fell open, her eyes widening as the first jet struck— “S-STOP!” her stomach cramping, burning, the pressure forcing its way inside her. “It hurts!” She wailed as the water filled her, stretching, invading, her knees buckling under the violence of it. “My stomach—it’s going to fill me up!”

Grace hated herself as she held Leila by the hip, her other hand holding the dildo firmly inside her ass. “It’s ok, I know how much you can take.” She whispered, now feeling Leila’s expanding tummy as she was filled up.

Grace counted as she watched the pain etched on Leila’s face as she pulled the nozzle out. “Shh, shhh” Grace murmured, as she took Leila by the hand to the toilet bowl and gently pressed her down by the shoulders.

Leila’s belly felt pregnant, engorged, her fingers digging in Grace’s arms as she clenched her asshole.

“It’s ok” said Grace softly, “just let it out now.”

Leila’s sphincter gave way with a wet, ripping sound ... and then came the torrent.

A violent geyser of filth and water erupted from her, sputtering in obscene bursts—plop, hiss, splat—against the metal toilet bowl, each expulsion punctuated by Leila’s choked, guttural sobs. Her body jerked with every convulsion, her asshole clenching and releasing, clenching and releasing, unable to stop, unable to control the violation pouring out of her.

Grace’s hand trembled on the flush handle, her eyes squeezed shut as she pressed it down. She guided Leila back to the showerhead... “Should only need two more times, Leila...” She hated that this private shame would now be something she had to share every day with this girl.

Behind the glass, Pembroke’s giggles bubbled up like an unhinged schoolboy. “Ohhh, look at you!” he guffawed, clapping his hands like a child at a show.

Leila’s face was purple ... veins bulging in her temple, tears and snot streaming down her face, as she obediently bent over and let Grace force the water back into her insides.

A few minutes later, the girls were both thoroughly clean and Pembroke had stepped into the cell naked, in complete contrast to the two petite girls, his body large and hairy, his cock hard and his belly sagging like melted wax over his hips.

“Now, Leila...” his voice was smooth again, he had recovered from laughing like a hyena at her disgusting humiliation. “As you’re on a gentle introduction to your life of slavery ... I’m not going to touch you for this session, other than to punish you when you’re disobedient. Or naughty. Hehe.”

His eyes locked onto hers, dark and gleaming. “Unless ... you want to touch me ... to soap me up ... with your little hands?”