My Black Sheep Ch. 02

Shelby could do nothing to prevent it and she knew it. Time was on Amelia's side. Given a few minutes of constant pressure, pushing and worming, and a few minutes of Shelby trying desperately to calm herself down and relax, the pinky slid inside of her, and it was another steady minute of pushing to get the knuckles inside her as well.

The whole time, Amelia was eerily silent. Shelby found, in hindsight, that she preferred Amelia ranting at her. With all her little sister's pent-up sibling rage being aired out, it had helped to distract her just that extra little bit from the pains that had been inflicted upon her. This new, cold Amelia was silent as a tomb, leaving Shelby with nothing but the sensations to focus on. This was worse, which, paradoxically, turned her on so much more as to the point of absurdity. It was pure. Unrelenting.

Around the time that the first knuckle of Amelia's thumb was sliding inside her ass, Shelby felt the beginning of another orgasm building up inside of her — a hellish vortex — but no sooner had she felt it was Amelia's full hand suddenly sliding in to the wrist. The bulk of it had passed within her inner ring, and without the constant stretching and the agony that went along with it, she felt the orgasm slipping away.

And then, like a valkyrie descending from the heavens, Amelia came to her rescue. Her entire left fist slid right back inside Shelby's abused cunt, filling her up like she had never felt before, and when that orgasm made landfall it absolutely wrecked her. She was so full it triggered her gag reflex, resulting in a full body dry heave and a cascade of clenched muscles that sang in sickening harmony. It felt like a head injury without the concussive force. Her world rocked.

Her body wanted to go limp and bask in the ocean of demented joy she had brought upon herself, but her hair was still tied and pulling up while the pumps were still tugging ferociously downward on her tits.

For a long minute, Amelia sat mostly still, with her two fists tightly clenched. Shelby had just about caught her breath, and it was in this irrationally intoxicated euphoria that she realized Ameliawasn'tstaying perfectly still. She was pulling back. Both hands, simultaneously, extremely slowly. Her jaw tried to unhinge itself, and the pain quickly became blinding, but she stayed silent. She had to stay lucid and present, because otherwise she would miss out on the worst of it. She found herself leaning into the pain more than she ever had in her whole life. Letting it systematically decimate her.

Amelia did not disappoint. By the time her two fists were at their thickest points, around the balled up knuckles and curled fingers, Shelby's cheeks were streaked with tears. Her little sister seemed to be relishing in her sadistic nature, slowing down to a crawl. Shelby wished she could see her cunt and anus bulging out with solid fists behind them. The stretching feeling was intense. Both her holes were resisting with the last of their elastic strength, in a valiant attempt to prevent her sister from pushing them beyond what was possible.

Amelia was toying with her, like a cat mauling a crippled bird.

Her anus gave way first, just a fraction of a second before her cunt. Both her anal rings dilated at the same time, stretching for just an instant to the diameter of Amelia's fist. Then her cunt split open around Amelia's other fist, letting the first spring free with an echoing squelching sound before her labia collapsed.

It was over, and just as Shelby's wildly overstimulated body tried to calm down, her little sister delivered a devastating and thunderous slap to her cunt. It hurt, but it was the incredible sound of it that unmade her: some combination of the gaping void inside, her lubed up skin, Amelia's calloused hands, and the enclosed space of brick, concrete, and metal.

Shelby rocked mindlessly, humping at the air. There was nothing behind her, and nothing in her. Amelia appeared next to her, but that did not stop her thrusting. Her body was on auto-pilot, and the auto-pilot wanted to rut. Amelia smirked at her as she grabbed hold of the bottle, reached back, and switched off one of the pumps. The skin inside the bell was so swollen and angry that, at first, she couldn't even tell that the suction was off. She heard, rather than felt, the cup being pulled from her breast.

It took a good long moment before she felt blood beginning to flow through the skin. It burned, like the end of her breast had been set alight. When that passed it became a different feeling, almost the same kind of pulsating agitation as the suction had been. It took her a long moment to realize it was just her pulse.

Amelia held up the bottle before her, and though it was tilted slightly, Shelby barked a laugh. Thirteen ounces; a prodigious amount of milk.

"The other one's even more," Amelia said, as she stepped away.

Shelby could not seem to stop her hips from moving back and forth in the air. She wasn't sure she wanted to. Her body was still thrumming like a stringed instrument, vibrating at a frequency no other human being had ever experienced. It was singular.

"Fifteen ounces," Amelia whispered, her voice sounding much louder with both of the pumps now shut off. "For Kelsi."

"For Kellssi," Shelby repeated, slurring her words ever so slightly.

Amelia snorted and stood up, but Shelby was simply not in a place where she could parse sarcasm. Face value was the deepest her foggy brain could penetrate.

"Stop humping the air," Amelia said, in a firm, clear voice, and Shelby's body obeyed.

It was such a good body, she thought.Once.

Her little sister leaned forward, put her hands on her knees, and peered at her. "Sometimes I have no idea what goes through your head, and then other times you're so pathetically transparent that I'm almost embarrassed for you."

Shelby just blinked and let Amelia's words wash over her, drawing her deeper like a riptide.

"I remember seeing you in a bikini, about a year after. You were, I don't know, twenty one maybe? I remember thinking how much lower your tits were sitting, and I wondered if that was me. If I'd done that. Were they ever the same after I tied them up?" Amelia closed her eyes and hummed happily to herself. "Mmmmm. I hope not."

"Nnn... Nnno." Shelby groaned, remembering how she'd explored herself in the numb days after the tree. After she'd run back to college and spent the rest of vacation alone trying to come to terms with what had happened. The only answers had come from masterbating until her fingers bled.

"Fuck," Amelia said, sighing in half-eyed ecstasy. "Good, because you were right. Idolike seeing your tits like this. It's sort of like payback, don't you think?"

Shelby wasn't sure what payback it would have been for, but she didn't need to know. Payback was what she needed. She wanted to surrender to the vengeance and let it wash over her completely.

Amelia dipped down out of sight. Shelby had just a moment to wonder where she was before she felt her little sister's hands under her hanging tits, and she couldn't help but cry out. The skin was impossibly sensitive. Amelia's touch felt cold in a way that sent shivers running through her and, for the first time since she took off her dress,veryaware of how little she was wearing.

"This is a perfect conclusion to us, Shelby. My imaginationdoes not lack for things I could continue to do to you, but I think we're nearing saturation. Blue on black, if you know what I mean."

Shelby didn't.

"Look at me, Shelby."

Shelby tried to look down — she really did — but her hair was tied too tight. "I... I can't."

Moment's later Amelia appeared holding the two bottles of Kelsi's milk in her hands. "Have you had an enema before, Shel?"

Amelia was back in front of her, and she was scratching again. Shelby knew this would be bad.

"Now, all I need is a liquid... what could I possibly use." Amelia said, thoughtfully, then she tapped one of the full bottles of milk against her chin. "Oh! Of course! What a good idea, me." She gave Shelby an irascible wink, and wondered aloud, "How much of these two bottles do you think that stretched out anus of yours take?"

"No," Shelby whispered. It was beyond her throat to do more. She tensed and tried to fight and free herself, but all she managed to do was almost tear her hair out and buck the rig across the floor a bit.

"I could get used to you like this," Amelia said. "Finally taking things seriously, are we?"

Shelby cried out, sounding like a wounded animal. Her eyes were wild darting around the room.

"How about a deal?" Amelia said, suddenly appearing next to Shelby's ear.

Shelby turned her eyes to the side and nodded.

"You manage not to cum for the next two minutes and you won't getbothbottles in your ass."

Shelby's eyes widened. It wasn't much of a deal. She didn't want any milk in her ass at all, but this way Kelsi would still get a pint, and all that milk and effort wouldn't be wasted. Plus, and most importantly, if therewasmilk to give Kelsi then this could still be for her. If there was no milk she'd finally have to admit that this was all for herself. Amelia would be right. All she hoped was that Amelia wouldn't make her watch the milk being tipped down the drain.

Shelby nodded.

Amelia clapped her hands excitedly and bent down. She expected Amelia to stand back up with a proper enema rig, but she just came up with one of the suction cups that had been on her tits. Shelby tried to shake her head as if to say that wouldn't work.

Her little sister just grinned and was gone.

The narrow end of the suction cups looked tiny when attached to the bottles, but it felt enormous when pressed against her anus. Shelby knew that didn't make any sense, as her ass had just birthed a fist. It should have been no problem at all. Thatno problem at all was forcing her outer and inner anal rings open with a cruel brutality, and that was when Shelby realized that she was more than likely going to fail her challenge.

An enema was supposed to be a maximum of two cups of water, and she'd produced nearly two pints. Each pint would make two cups. If she failed, she would have four cups of milk poured into her ass. She gulped and tried to imagine how that would feel. How intense. She imagined how it would stretch out her tummy.

She let her head hang down just in time to see that she'd been drooling, and not an insignificant amount. She took a quick breath and pressed her lips together tight, trying to compose herself, but that stopped when she heard the glug of milk. The impact of it as it splashed against the funnel was jarring. Then, finally, she felt the warmth of her own breast milk as it sluiced it's way toward her core.

"Stay still," Amelia ordered, and Shelby did her best.

Shelby's mind was undoing her. Tears ran down her face, joining the spit at the tip of her chin. Her precious milk, milk she had created and that had swollen and hurt her tits and then had hurt so much to get out, was glugging down into her bowels. That sound seemed to echo around the room before hammering into her ears, and it was just the most amazing sound she'd ever heard.

The warm stretching feeling of her ass filling made the orgasm build. It would be pulled into her depths by gravity, fighting through air as it worked every inward to occupy any space it found. She imagined the milk sinking to the bottom of her abdomen and then expanding and swelling. Straining her gut as it had swollen her tits.

She was gasping as she tried to hold off the orgasm. She had to fight it. She couldn't afford to cum. She couldn't take two pints of milk in her stomach. Her mind played out the feeling, and knew the sensations that would be so much worse by doubling the volume of milk. The more she thought about it and how awful it was, the more her masochistic mind twisted it around to excite her. She almost couldn't wait to cum just for the experience. Even the potential self-hatred was worth the price of admission.

Shelby was just on the cusp, managing to hold it at bay by the skin of her teeth. Giving in would represent total failure to do the one thing she was good at; she would have failed to provide milk to her daughter. Her own perverted desires were in danger of undoing her, again, just as they'd ended her career in the university gymnasium all those years ago.

Shelby clenched with everything she had, for just a moment, in a doomed attempt to stop the orgasm, before she gave up completely.

The orgasm was everything that she could have hoped for. Her shaking was so violent that she felt small droplets of the milk plinking onto her ass as the funnel vibrated. She screamed. It was a long, pitiful cry of complete and utter failure, her whole body shaking, tensing, quivering as it was overrun.

Shelby wasn't sure if Amelia was laughing or she was imagining it, but she was certain that she felt Amelia's finger between her legs, slipping over her labia and finding her clit. A hard solid finger, pressing against her most sensitive button. Deepening the orgasm until it was blinding, as all the while milk guzzled into her.

The waves continued rolling through her, though whether it was one long orgasm or a series of never ending orgasms Shelby could not say. Her muscles were burning so ferociously that Shelby was sure that she was going to break the whole rig apart with her bare hands.

Amelia faithfully kept that finger in place throughout, giving Shelby no room to spare herself from her more destructive side. Her ass filled with milk, and she felt fuller and fuller. More bloated, bowels stretching and rearranged, and that feeling of undoing all the progress she'd made after Kelsi's birth drove the orgasm on.

When she finally collapsed, panting, Amelia was pacing back and forth in front of her. Time meant nothing to Shelby — what purpose did a Hucow have of knowing the time? — but it seemed impossible that Amelia had removed her finger one moment and was pacing back and forth in front of Shelby the next.

"A bucket," Amelia said out loud, as if finding the answer to some question, and then she vanished.

Shelby was alone once more, and she began sobbing pitifully. She had wanted this, and had hit the low and worthless rock bottom she'd been aiming for with all the terrible power and fallout of a comet striking the Earth.

Her little sister grabbed one of the low work stools lined up neatly along the wall, and pulled it around behind Shelby. She could hear the other bottle, heavy fluid sloshing inside of the plastic, being moved around. It was all going to go to waste. Every drop of it. Dimly, in the very back of her mind, she tried to inventory how much milk she had frozen, and how badly they would have to dig into that while her breasts got back to work. It would be close.

If only Kelsi would just latch.

Unbidden, little pieces of reality filtered back to her. Her mother-in-law, at home, would have questions. Those questions would be pointed if any bruises were visible. There would be bruises. Wrists and ankles. Did she have any concealer?

The thing in her ass that was not Amelia's finger slipped out, for just a moment, and the funnel, the largest of the breast pump cups, slid back inside her. Shelby knew this by the sounds; the echo of the empty spaces within her, and the air moving back and forth. She almost thought she could hear the faint sloshing, but she knew that wasn't real. She could feel the milk much further up in her lower intestines, still very warm.

The second bottle, as it entered her, was slightly cooler: closer to room temperature. It felt like Amelia was pouring it forever, which served as a reminder of how much milk was being wasted. It rushed through her, following gravity to join its like. Air gurgled inside of her as fluid displaced it, down in the center of her, and she shuddered.

She could feel her belly stretching, skin returning to the way it had sat while Kelsi had been nestled within her. The part of her brain that had the controls, her libido, wanted to stand up and salute Amelia and her creativity just for the sheer perversity of it. She did not cry out. She was a model of submissiveness. She simply closed her eyes and let it happen.

Amelia slid her little stool across the floor slowly, leaning down, and made a sound that had no place in the English language. She ran a hand delicately over Shelby's swollen stomach, and clucked her tongue softly.

"It's incredible, Shel," she said. "I mean, it's grotesque, but it's incredible. It happens so fast."

Shelby had long passed the point where her cheeks were coloring with each new embarrassment. She was already bruised all over, emotionally speaking, and there was not much more that could hurt her.

Her sister stared at her for a long time, taking in Shelby's curves with a fascination bordering on unhealthy, but it was not much longer before she stood up. Her face was a mask of determination, devoid of comfort, personal interest, or disgust: perfect affected congeniality, like a hotel receptionist. Shelby stretched her neck, curled her shoulders, and for the first time in what felt like hours, just breathed.

Amelia sat back down on the stool behind her, which Shelby could now turn and see, slightly, in the very corner of her eye. Her sister did not meet her gaze. She felt a line of something press against the backs of her thighs, right along the space between her ass and her cunt, and then Amelia's hand was under her overfull belly. Pressing gently upward.

"There you go," Amelia said, as Shelby reflexively curled her spine away from pressure at her middle. She felt the funnel, still holding her gaped asshole open, being tilted, pressing in new directions, and then came the unmistakable sound of fluid dripping into a bucket.

Her milk — Kelsi's milk — flowed slowly, dribbling and sloshing and spurting. Amelia kept her hand firmly against Shelby's belly, though whether she was encouraging Shelby to tilt or simply trying to squeeze it out, Shelby could not say. Little by little, Shelby arched her back, doing a lewd impression of the feline half of a cat-cow yoga pose, and compressed her middle.

Through it all, her breast milk flowed back out of her.

Eventually, Amelia stopped pressing her hand, and Shelby's tired body slackened in its bonds. She felt wrung out from end to end. Amelia chuckled behind her, though the sound of it was overwhelmed by her swirling the contents of the bucket round and round.

"I think we got most of it back out," she said, "but this gives me an idea."

If there had ever been a point where Shelby was going to try to stop Amelia and plead for leniency this would have been it, but she was exhausted. Spent. Simultaneously used up and used to it. Amelia would punish her, and she would take it.

Amelia disappeared, her thick boots making scuffing sounds as she shuffled across her apartment, and it felt like there were only a few seconds between those sounds moving away from her and those sounds moving back toward her. She did not look when Amelia re-entered the room. She barely twitched at a sound like a spring uncoiling. She turned her head slightly, but more in acknowledgement of a sound on her right than in any specific attempt to actually look. Something was scraping, lightly across the concrete floor. It would hurt, but she would take it.

The funnel finally exited her, and for a few brief seconds, Shelby was able to squeeze her sphincter closed. It opened right back up again, allowing air to move in and out quite loudly, but without any real force. Not unless she clenched her abdominal muscles, and that would have been too much to hear. Hairs on the back of her neck twitched at the sound of running water, and she turned a little further to see that what Amelia had unwound was a hose, from an unassuming stand on the wall, and she was letting it run out into a drain built into the floor.