Pray

Then Hainora began. It was rough, almost brutal, and Vao gagged. She'd never been good at deep throating, and she hadn't bothered practicing in the South. Each rough thrust into her mouth poked at the back of her throat, and instinctively she raised her hands to her mother's hips, grabbing at them to try and slow her down only to be rewarded with a hard slap that left her ear ringing. Choking on her own spit and the harsh use, she dropped her hands, leaning into the rough treatment, rocking back and forth on her knees with every thrust.

Spit frothed around her mother's cock, running down her chin, dripping onto her chest and lingering there, sticky and cool. She winced and gurgled, fighting down the urge to try and escape, to raise her hands again, to do anything but submit - and with each passing moment she held it down it faded further away, bliss replacing it. Dimly, she remembered an old lesson, and tried to wrap her lip down over her top teeth, where they rubbed against Hainora's throbbing cock on every thrust, her tongue slithering forward for the underside.

Each gasping breath stretched into infinity, snatched whenever she could around the invader in her mouth, and she lost track of herself and time alike. She was only her mouth, raped and abused, and her sense of utter submission that ebbed out from it. Gagging, choking, grunting, she sucked and licked, teary eyes fluttering shut. Her jaw ached, throbbing from being held too wide too long. Her throat burned from the gagging, and each spasming wave rippled through her body in a way that was nauseating and thrilling at once. The wet choking sounds were interspersed with her mother's groans of pleasure and exertion, with the periodic slap of her breasts against her chest when they bounced on a particularly forceful thrust that made her recoil.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been sucking when Hainora finally let out a deep, throaty moan and came, salty and bitter on the tongue. Her world had shrunk even further - every sound muffled and distorted, her body suffused with the sense of pleasure that came with the submission. The hot, sticky splash against her face brought her back, Hainora pulling back for the last ropes that landed on her nose. One oozed against her eyelids, mingling with the choking tears that ran down her sticky cheeks. She squeezed it tighter, gasping for fresh air, daring to open the other.

Through blurry tears she looked up at her mother, filled with awe and love and anger and hate all at once, and she mouthed out a desperate, breathless 'thank you', then crumpled as Hainora released her iron grip on her hair and let her fall in on herself, pacing away to the bedside. She wiped her face with her fingers, then her fingers on her thigh, blinking her other eye open and wincing at the burn of cum. She caught herself in the mirror, moaning softly at the sight, the visible evidence of her submission.

She was a mess, face soaked with spit churned frothy by the violent action and with semen, the two mingling and oozing together. Some ran from her chin as she stared, wet and cool on her slick, shining chest, where the spit had fallen like rain and run in little rivers into the valley of her cleavage, stopping halfway down her belly. It was humiliating, and she throbbed for it, and made no motion to clean herself - though she did burn with shame to see semen clinging to the tin circle that sat high on her chest. Peering over her shoulder, she caught Hainora setting a bottle down on the bedside, and scrabbled to her feet on shaky legs, making the way to the bed to join her.

"How... How do you want..." A pause, a groan of frustration. "How do you want me?"

"Face down."

Nodding meekly, Vao moved with what she hoped was grace but knew was an awkward clumsiness onto the bed, crawling into place before slumping forward against the sheets, smearing the mess into them and biting her lip. Hainora joined her, the bed shifting under her powerful frame, and she shut her eyes tight in anticipation. The lube was cold, and it tingled as her mother roughly smeared it over and into her asshole, and she laced her fingers into the sheets nervously. The finger was easy - just one, perfunctory, casual. There wasn't anywhere near enough lube on it, and she knew it, and her breath hitched in terror when it withdrew.

Then the pain started, and she cried into the pillows, tears streaming freely as she split open around her mother's achingly thick cock again for the first time in months. The soft bedding muffled her screams, but could do nothing for how raw her throat was in moments, the desperate curl of her toes and shake of her legs as she fought to stay still and relax. Despite herself, her eyes flew open, and out of their corner she could see the mirror, see herself. See the desperate tense and flex of her thighs and lean torso, the shuddering rythmic sobs and screams that rippled through her.

It was not tender. It was brutal, and she hated and adored it. The bliss of utter submission resurfaced, stoked stronger and stronger by the pain of each rough thrust, and when it stalled and the pain seemed to overtake her mother responded, grabbing the discarded belt and looping it around her throat, strangling her. The string of her necklace caught, the tin circle digging into her collarbone, an aching reminder of the wrongness of the act that only drove her deeper into it. Stars danced before her eyes and her teeth sang with a dull ache, a vein throbbing in her temple. There was no way to cum, even with the choking, with the strange exquisite giddiness that mingled with the agony and washed through every part of her like a sea of sweet, warm wine.

She disappeared again, reduced internally to nothing but a raw, throbbing hole and desperate strangled gasps for breath whenever the pressure eased. Adrift in her crimson sea of submissive bliss, she moaned and gasped and fought subconsciously against the cock invading her. She didn't know when it ended - only that she drifted back to consciousness, face down on the mattress, cool air washing into her gaping hole and semen on her back. She hurt all over, and her ass throbbed and burned, little white lines of fire cutting across her slack hole. When she weakly pushed herself up and looked back, tiny dots of blood stained the sheets from the little tears.

A tap was running in the bathroom, water gurgling and splashing into itself, and she let her head fall back to the pillow, breath coming slow and ragged as her body recovered from the ordeal. Her throat was almost as raw as her ass, but that queer after pleasure sang in her, not orgasmic but deeply fulfilling. There was a bruise forming on her throat, and it felt a little swollen, and when she experimentally tried to speak her words came out hoarse.

The rest was interrupted by a fresh hand in her hair, and she groaned weakly as Hainora pulled her from the bed and onto shaky feet, marching her into the bathroom, bent over double. Steam rose from the tub, and she shuddered with an old memory of plunging into too hot water, held there, screaming under the surface, and she hated the way it brought that familiar twinge of desire in her traitor cunt. But Hainora didn't steer her there - she brought her to the shower, forced her in and down to crumple against the wall.

Staring up at her, Vao thought how much her mother looked like what she imagined the demons that lay off the righteous path must really be like. Cruel and wonderful, powerful and grotesque, beautiful and twisted into ugliness. She was naked now, a fist wrapped around her own cock, aiming it in her face. Blood still smeared it. There was a faint ringing in Vao's ears, and it took her a moment to turn the motion of her mother's lips into words.

"Baptism time, you fucking heathen."

"But... I've already..."

She tried to answer, and gasped in shock and disgust as her mother unleashed a flood of hot, acrid piss into her face. It splashed in her mouth, and she spluttered and coughed and recoiled against the tiles, scrabbling in shock. The taste was horrible, the sensation utterly degrading as the hot urine washed down over her body. She shrank, tears returning. The sense of utter humiliation blurred into that of being utterly owned, and she hated it for it just like she hated the rest, hated herself for craving it, for craving it so fiercely she debased herself for it. For not screaming to stop. For welcoming the shock and disgust that rippled through her.

"There." Hainora snapped at her, shaking off the last drops and looking down on her with disgust. The moment stretched, Vao's eyes shutting tight and her fingers clenching into fists, and then it broke. Her mother knelt, and reached in with those great, hard hands. The skin was still rough and covered in scars, but now the grip was gentle, drawing her out sweetly. A soothing little sound, half-remembered from childhood, that she scrambled into, hugging tightly to her mother's powerful frame and weeping into her shoulder. Her feet went up from under her as she was picked up, and she offered no resistance.

The hot bath water stung at first on her bruises and scrapes, on the little tears, but as that faded it soothed, and she leant forward to hug her knees while Hainora slid in behind her and drew her back against her frame again, holding her safe, warm, against her body. She cried, tears rolling down her cheeks - and like she always did, she masturbated. Her hand crept from her knees to between her thighs, and the suppressed pleasure of the night found final expression in a shuddering, sobbing orgasm held safe in her tormentor's arms.

"...I hate it." She murmured. "But don't... Don't ever... Don't ever stop doing it."

"I won't, not until you tell me to." Hainora answered, soft and gentle, and kissed her on the top of her head while she lay against her in the bath, chest heaving with the aftermath of her orgasm. "Now be quiet and go to sleep, little tinker."

It was the most natural thing in the world to obey, and her eyes fluttered closed easily.