Katy had been kicked out of her home when Alistair made her confess to her very Christian parents that she was both pregnant and a lesbian. Since then she had moved into his place, under his degrading conditions – at his house, she was not allowed to wear clothes, stand upright, or make any sound other than a cow-like “mooo”. At nights, she worked as a prostitute at the Pretty Titty alongside Alistair’s other fuckpets.

She may have been kicked out of home, but Alistair didn’t intend that to be the end of Katy’s humiliation in her old life. He specifically required that she attend her old church every Sunday, along with the other girls she had raped and blackmailed at his command, Paige, Elle, Rachael and Victoria. They were to dress in the same virginal Sunday dresses they had worn back when they thought they were normal girls, but without panties, of course. They were required to masturbate to the edge of orgasm before attending, and three of the five girls each week were given a vibrator which they were to keep buzzing in their twats throughout the service. All of them were given two litres of water to drink before attending and allowed nowhere near a toilet, partly to keep them self-conscious and in distress throughout the service, and partly to let them feel the humiliation, if they were unlucky, of wetting themselves in church surrounded by all their former friends and family.

The girls were lesbians now, for the purposes of their public interactions. Elle and Rachael attended as a couple, pretty girls holding hands, and they were instructed to exchange a long, passionate, sexual kiss in public before and after the service. Katy, visibly pregnant, her belly large and her tits beginning to swell with milk, was given the honour of having *two* girlfriends – Paige and Victoria – and the three girls were required to show off their lesbian affection for each other before entering the service, entwining tongues and nuzzling each other’s necks outside the church as scandalised parishioners watched.

All the girls could hear the whispers of those around them as they took their seats in the church – “sluts” – “harlots” – “whores”. It made them blush. With their cunts wet and their bladders full they didn’t feel like normal girls. They felt like dirty tramps. They wanted to hide, but they weren’t allowed to.

The girls would sit and listen to the sermon. This was where it was a blessing to be one of those chosen to have a vibrator, because the girls who did not were required to keep themselves dripping wet through the whole sermon. If they couldn’t think slutty enough thoughts to keep their cunts moist, then they had to surreptiously work their hands under their skirts and stroke their needy little clits without anyone noticing.

If they were unlucky, they would orgasm in public. desperately trying to stay silent and not shake as waves of pleasured shot out from their cunt. If they were very unlucky, they would wet themselves, flooding their seat with urine and feeling it pool on the floor around their feet. If they were *very* unlucky, they would wet themseleves and *then* cum, orgasming hard amongst the people who had once respected them while sitting in a pool of their own piss. It happened to all of the girls eventually, and they knew that they had surely forsaken their immortal souls because they were too weak to ignore the commands they had been given and the needy pulse of their cunts.

When Alistair heard their stories back at home and saw how devastating their slutty behaviour in church was for them, he had enormous fun taking their perceived blasphemy even further. He made the girls piss on Bibles, fuck themselves with crucifixes, and look at pictures of Jesus while he brought them to screaming slutty orgasms. Each new degradation further separated them from the “nice, good girls” they had thought they were and pushed them further into identifying as the rape-bitches he wanted them to be.

He had them seduce the parish priest, of course. That was a no brainer. The girls needed the experience of having the man they had once looked to for moral guidance rape them in front of the altar. And he succumbed to that temptation, of course – when the five girls waited until after the sermon and then approached him, undressing, baring their tits, pressing up against him, there was only so long he could resist. He had been fantasising about these girls when they were pure and virginal, and once they had become sluts and started kissing each other outside church they had been in his dreams every night. Once they offered themselves to him, he couldn’t say no.

He fucked each of the girls right there by the pulpit, sometimes cumming in their mouth, sometimes in their cunt, sometimes in their ass. He watched in delight as they would lick the cum from each other’s bodies. When they begged him to hit them, hurt them, drive the sluttiness from their bodies (as Alistair had told them to) he agreed without hesitation, and after that a good portion of each Sunday was spent with the girls having their breasts and pussies lashed with the priest’s strong leather belt while they cried and whimpered. And of course, when he discovered they were wetting themselves on his pews, he was quick to have them clean up their mess with their tongues.

The amount the girls were bringing in from prostitution by this stage was really quite substantial, and it was enough for Alistair to schedule a program of upgrades for the girls. One by one they each went into hospital, and one by one they each came out with beautiful fake F-cup tits straining against their old innocent dresses. Katy’s were the most expensive, as it was much harder to do without hurting the baby – and much more painful for Katy – but they managed it, and soon Katy had milk leaking from giant balloon-like whore tits. No effort had been made to make the breasts look natural – they were clearly boobs that were intended for pornography. The girls knew no-one would ever look at them again without assuming they had specifically chosen these breasts in order to increase the sexual pleasure of men.

Once Katy’s milk had come in, Alistair made sure that Katy was being milked more or less around the clock, even when she was dry. The more milk Katy expressed, the more she would produce, the bigger her tits would grow, the more they would be painfully full, and the more reliant Katy would be on being milked to relieve that pressure and pain. She wasn’t allowed to milk herself, of course – she always had to have someone else help her.

Alistair reserved for himself the pleasure of tugging hard on her tits each morning and night, enjoying her squeals of pain as he milked her into a bucket like a cow. The rest of the day, he had two of the other girls suck on Katy’s raw over-sensitive nipples, knowing that they would receive this treatment themselves when Alistair eventually got them pregnant. How Katy slept depended on how well she sucked Alistair’s cock before bed – if she did well, she was allowed to have an automated breast pump sucking painfully at her boobs all night. If she did poorly, he just left her all night, so that by the morning she was in awful pain, her tits full of milk, mooing desperately (for that was the only noise she was allowed to make at home) in the hopes of someone mercifully milking her.

If her mooing woke up Alistair, though, he had an extra punishment for her – rather than milking her with his hands, he would milk her with his belt, giving her thirty hard lashes of leather across the top of her agonisingly sensitive swollen tits, milk squirting from her nipples on each hit, and then wrapping the belt brutally tight around the base of each tit and pulling downwards, working her breast like a tube of toothpaste.

She would be in such agony by the end of this process that she didn’t know what she was saying, and would happily agree to thank him for the pain, to drink his morning piss, and even beg for another twenty lashes of the belt across her stupid cunt.

The other girls were terrified by this treatment of Katy, so Alistair made a point of making them watch and masturbate each day as he did this to the little Christian slut, making them complicit in her torture, so they would remember orgasming as he hurt their friend, so they would associate her pain and abuse with their sexual arousal.

He almost ejaculated on the spot the day that pure, innocent Paige approached him on a morning where Katy’s mooing had been particularly loud, and asked him if she could hurt Katy instead today. He conceded, and watched with delight as the beautiful blonde enthusiastically whipped Katy’s fuckmelons with the belt, squeezed them while Katy moaned, and then visibly orgasmed when Katy finally burst into degraded tears. He congratulated Paige and told her what a good slut she was, and smirked as part of her visibly beamed with pride despite herself. Then he pissed into Katy’s mouth, made her hold it rather than swallow, and had the two girls kiss, passing the piss back and forth in their mouth as they masturbated until both girls had orgasmed.

(To be continued…)