The Siren's Symphony Сh. 03: Becca

Chapter 3: The Buttlicking Bruiser -- Becca

Dennis cowered beneath the looming figure of Becca, her powerful frame casting a formidable shadow on the lab's cold, sterile floor. "What the hell is this, Dennis?" she barked, her voice echoing off the high ceilings. She held aloft a small, cube-like device, its metallic sheen harsh under the lab's intense lights.

"Becca, you don't understand..." Dennis stammered, his gaze locked on the humming device. His protest was silenced as Becca's fist connected with his face. Blood sprayed, his body crumpling to the floor. His plea echoed in the room, "You can't take it away, She'll... She'll kill me."

Ignoring his desperate cries, she left the room with the cube. The device was a mystery, etched with a symbol she'd seen on crates at Ruth's base. Entering the meeting room, she felt an eerie quietness. Usually abuzz with team chatter, it was now empty. She placed the cube on the table, its hum growing louder as it vibrated in response to her touch.

Becca began to wander around the room, her fingers brushing the cool surface of the table. The hum of the device filled the room, its noise oddly soothing. She took a seat, resting her chin on her muscular forearms, her eyes growing heavy as she waited for her team.

Becca remembers feeling herself strong ever since she was 10. She was wearing her favorite blue jeans and a worn-out t-shirt, a total tomboy. Kyle was a nasty little boy, a head shorter than her, yet he was considered scary somehow by her peers and kept bullying them. She tolerated his existence, not caring too much about his actions until he hit Alice, her best friend. Becca saw it all, instantly becoming enraged, her fists ready to pummel Kyle who was too busy shouting profanities at her to protect himself. Becca stood in front of crying Alice, and with a quick swing... found herself dropping to her knees in front of him, her lips forming an apology she didn't understand. "Yes, Kyle, I apologize for me and Alice being stupid cunts," she mumbled, her voice small and defeated. Her hands, once balled into fists, now gently wiped the dirt from his shoes. She noticed her blouse getting dirtied from kneeling, her stockings developing runs, her light pink skirt around her waist.

"Becca, you're my personal shoe cleaner," Kyle jeered, his voice echoing around the playground. The words were venomous, his slurs slicing through her. And without a second thought, she leaned in, her tongue extending to lick the dirt off his shoes.

"Now, strip, Becca. Show them what a loser looks like."

And she did. She stripped off her skirt, her pink panties on display, a flush of humiliation and a strange exhilaration running through her. "Now, your friend Alice," Kyle ordered. And again, she obeyed. She tugged down Alice's skirt, revealing her friend's white panties to the gathering crowd, the sound of Alice's sobs a cruel soundtrack to her humiliation.

With a start, Becca woke up. The meeting room was still deserted. She felt a chill crawl up her spine, the taste of dust and shame heavy in her mouth. The memory twisted and distorted felt too real, too vivid.

Becca roused from the disturbing dream, her heart pounding in her chest. The room was empty, the humming device now silent. She rose from her chair, her muscles stiff from her awkward position. Picking up the device, she frowned at it, a shiver running down her spine. She decided to find the others, her mind still reeling from the dream.

In her quarters, she placed the device on her desk, her gaze drawn to her own reflection in the mirror. Becca's reflection stared back at her, her strong, confident figure a stark contrast to the unsettling dream she'd just had. Memories flooded back to her; she was twelve, her face beaming with pride, a trophy in her hands. Her classmates cheered, their applause ringing in her ears. They were so glad to have her on the team; the position of a team captain was safely secured, because they always kept Becca... the last to be picked because she could do nothing on a field.

Tears welled up in her eyes as the laughter of her classmates echoed around her. She was in the locker room, alone, dismissed early from the game. The smell of sweaty socks and sneakers filled the air, and Becca found herself drawn to it. She picked up a sneaker, its smell strangely alluring as she brought it closer to her nose, inhaling deeply.

Meanwhile, Tess was dealing with Ashley's increasingly childlike behavior. Ashley sat on the floor, her legs kicking in the air playfully as she giggled.

"Ash, sweetie, let's change your diaper, okay?" Tess suggested, trying to sound casual despite her concern.

Ashley's giggles turned into full laughter as she flopped onto her back. "Okay, Tessie! But you have to play horsey after!"

Tess smiled, picking up a fresh diaper and a packet of baby wipes. "Alright, Ash. But only if you promise to eat all your dinner tonight."

Ashley agreed enthusiastically, her eyes wide and innocent as Tess started to unfasten her diaper. The smell wasn't too bad, but Tess still wrinkled her nose. Ashley, meanwhile, was making faces at her, sticking out her tongue and giggling.

"I love you cleaning my pee-pee, Tessie!" Ashley cooed, her little hands patting Tess's arm.

Tess blushed a little, but kept her composure. "Okay, sweetheart," she said, smiling as she gently cleaned Ashley's folds and clitoris, causing the girl to giggle and squirm a bit. "There we go, all clean."

Ashley beamed at the praise, clapping her hands together. "Yay, Tessie! Now horsey ride!"

The strange situation came to an end, leaving Tess with a smile on her face and a growing worry in her heart. Becca, on the other hand, was left feeling flushed and confused, her mind a whirl of corrupted memories.

Becca was an extremely fierce competitor in her school's debate team. The topic for the state-level competition was 'The Impact of Artificial Intelligence on Human Jobs.' 16 year old Becca had prepared extensively, spending countless hours in the library studying books, articles, and reports. She had memorized her speech word by word, knowing how to counter every possible argument her opponents could throw at her.

"Good evening, my name is Becca, and I will be representing Jefferson High," she started confidently, but just as she was about to deliver her well-prepared speech...

"Good evening, my...uh...my name is...uh," she stumbled over her words, her confident demeanor replaced by a shaky, anxious one.

The opponents from the rival school, namely Roger and Melissa, shared a smug look, while her own teammates, Janet and Mark, looked at her with concern. The host of the debate, Mr. Williams, tried to offer her an encouraging smile, but it didn't help.

"Looks like Jefferson High is off to a shaky start," Roger smirked, earning a few chuckles from the audience.

After the disastrous performance, their debate coach, Ms. Reynolds, was visibly disappointed. "I'm afraid our team will be in charge of cleaning the debate hall as a penalty," she announced.

"I...I'll clean the bathrooms," Becca quickly volunteered, her words surprising her teammates and even herself. But deep down, she felt an odd thrill at the thought of being near the toilet seats where her teammates and opponents had sat.

Amber and her team were desperately looking for her lost Doberman, Ranger, searching the whole base.

"Could Ranger have wandered off to the southern sector again?" Becca asked, her voice laced with hesitation.

"Good idea, Becca," Amber responded, appreciating the initiative. "You and Lisa can check it out."

As Amber was about to turn to Ashley, the young woman was distracted by a simple drawing of a butterfly on the nearby wall, sketched there by some bored soldier with a pen. "Look, Tessy! Butterfly pretty!" she exclaimed, her words slurring into childlike cooing. Tess, instead of leading the search, was busying herself with calming Ashley down, trying to redirect her focus on the search.

"Sweetie, we need to help Amber find Ranger. Remember Ranger, don't you?" Tess coaxed, but Ashley was too engrossed with the butterfly.

Meanwhile, Lisa was considering their options. "Well, Officer Dan might have seen something," she suggested. But before anyone could respond, she added, "And if not him, maybe Sergeant Jake or Corporal Mike could help. They do patrol the area, after all."

"I...um, I'll go ask them," Becca offered, her voice barely audible.

"But Becca, you were supposed to check the southern sector," Amber reminded her, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion at Becca's unusual behavior.

"R-right, I'm sorry," Becca stuttered, her face reddening with embarrassment. "I'll...I'll do that."

As the team scrambled to follow their tasks, it was apparent that things were not as they used to be. Becca's assertiveness was replaced by uncertainty, Lisa's suggestions were oddly specific, and Tess was more engrossed in looking after Ashley than leading the search. Amid the chaos, the search for Ranger continued.

Becca was in heaven. Her dream of joining the military academy had finally come true. She was among the few 18-year-olds who had been accepted. She had trained hard, passed all the tests, and her strong will and leadership skills were already beginning to shine in the first week... a disaster. She found herself constantly lagging behind, unable to keep up with the rigorous training regimen. Her classmates, who once looked up to her, now saw her as a burden. The confident and strong-willed Becca was replaced by a girl desperate for help and guidance. Her superior, Lieutenant Davis, noticed her struggles and summoned her to his office one day.

"Lieutenant Davis wishes to see you, Becca," one of her fellow trainees had informed her, leaving her to anxiously approach the lieutenant's office. Davis was a stern man, known for his no-nonsense approach and harsh disciplinary methods. She knocked on the door timidly, her heart pounding.

"Enter," came the gruff voice from inside. She stepped in, her eyes darting around the room nervously. The lieutenant was sitting behind his desk, a stern look on his face. He gestured for her to close the door behind her.

"Becca, I've noticed your... difficulties," he began, his voice stern. "And I believe I know the perfect remedy for it. Kneel."

"Pardon, sir?" she asked, a quizzical expression on her face.

"I said, kneel!" he repeated, more forcefully. She obeyed, sinking to her knees on the cold tile floor.

"No, no, no. Stand up, Becca," he corrected, shaking his head. She quickly got to her feet, confusion etched on her face.

"When I give an order, you say, 'Yes, Sir,' and then you follow it. Got it?"

"Yes, Sir," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Now, kneel," he commanded again. This time, she responded promptly.

"Yes, Sir," she said, dropping to her knees again. Davis nodded approvingly, getting up from his chair. He turned his back to her, pulling down his trousers.

"Now, what do you see, Becca?" he asked, his voice oozing with dominance.

"A butt, Sir," she replied, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"That's correct, Becca. Because from now on, you're a buttlicker," he declared. She gulped, her heart pounding in her chest. The reality of his words sinking into her mind made her pussy tingle with an unfamiliar sense of arousal.

"Yes... Sir," she managed to respond, her voice coming out as a husky whisper, lost in the heated gaze she had on his exposed ass. Davis chuckled, the sound low and grating, sending shivers down her spine. The anticipation was building within her, the anticipation of what was to come, of her new identity.

"Now, stick out your tongue and say it again, Becca," he ordered, his voice firm. She looked up at him, her cheeks burning, her tongue lolling out in a display of complete submission.

"I'm... I'm a buttlicker, Sir," she mumbled, her words coming out as an indistinct slur due to her extended tongue.

He nodded, a satisfied grin on his face. "That's right, Becca. You're my buttlicker now. Now, stick that tongue out further, I want to feel you lick."

Her heart pounded in her chest as he slowly moved his ass closer to her face. She could feel the heat emanating from him, smell his musk getting stronger. She swallowed hard, a strange sense of anticipation filling her.

He was just inches away now, his ass almost touching her extended tongue. She could see every detail, feel his heat, smell his scent. She was about to lick, about to taste...

"Lick," he commanded, and she obeyed.

"Yeff... fir..." she mumbled, her words distorted by her extended tongue and his ass. Her obedience was rewarded with a satisfied grunt from Davis. She was in this new, twisted heaven, lost in the taste, the smell, and the utter degradation of her situation.

"That's it, girl. Lick it good," he commanded, pushing his ass back towards her face. She obediently continued her task, her tongue gliding over the rough skin. She could feel herself growing wet, arousal mingling with humiliation. Her mind was a whirl of confusion and arousal, but she focused on Davis's commands, obediently following each one. She felt degraded, yet strangely aroused. She was a buttlicker now, and it seemed like she was destined to be one. Her mind was filled with the taste and smell of Davis's ass, a reminder of her new status. She could feel her cunt dripping, a testament to her perverse arousal.

With each lick, each 'Yes, Sir,' Becca accepted her new role. Her strong-willed, leadership qualities were replaced with a submissive, obedient demeanor. As she knelt there, servicing Lieutenant Davis, she felt a perverse thrill. Each degrading word from Davis sent a thrill through her, making her cunt throb with arousal. Her old self was dissolving away, replaced by this new, submissive Becca, who found pleasure in degradation and submission.

"I'm a buttlicker," she thought. Every slurp, every taste of Davis's ass was a reminder of her new status. She took it all in, her mind filled with the musky scent and taste. Her own arousal was undeniable, her panties damp with her juices.

As she continued her task, she could hear Davis's grunts of satisfaction, each one making her heart pound with a strange pride. She was doing well. She was being a good buttlicker. The thought was humiliating, yet, it was also exhilarating. Her obedience was rewarded with a satisfied grunt from Davis. She was in this new, twisted heaven, lost in the taste, the smell, and the utter degradation of her situation. And as she continued to serve Lieutenant Davis, she felt something she hadn't expected. She felt... content.

The strong, willful, and determined Becca was gone, replaced by a submissive, obedient girl who found pleasure in degradation. As she licked, as she tasted, as she submitted, Becca realized that she was destined for a life of obedience, submission, and perverse pleasure.

***

"Did anyone see Ranger?" Tess asked, breaking the silence that had settled over the team.

Amber shook her head, her eyes welling up with worry. "Nothing. He wasn't at his usual spots."

Becca, who'd been quiet until then, nervously stepped forward. "What should we do now?" Her voice wavered slightly, as if unsure.

Tess sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I don't know, Becca..."

The room fell into silence again, everyone lost in their thoughts. Becca stood there, increasingly agitated. "What should I do now?" she asked again, her voice more urgent this time. When no one replied, she repeated the question, her voice becoming frantic.

Amber exchanged a worried look with Tess. "Becca, we don't know..." she began, but stopped abruptly as Becca fell to her knees in front of Tess.

Becca's eyes were fixed on Tess's boots, her breath hitching in her throat. She didn't even seem to hear Amber anymore. She leaned forward, her tongue darting out to tentatively lick the surface of the boot. The room was filled with a stunned silence.

"Becca!" Tess gasped, recoiling in shock. "What the hell are you doing?"

The taste of the leather, the feel of it against her tongue, sent a shudder of arousal through Becca. "I... I don't know," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. She was blushing furiously, but she couldn't stop. Her tongue traced over the boot again, and again, her arousal mounting with each lick.

The room was filled with a shocked silence, the others staring at Becca with wide eyes. Amber was the first to find her voice. "Becca, stop it! This isn't you!"

But Becca barely registered Amber's words. She continued to lick Tess's boots, lost in her own world. The humiliation, the degradation, it was all too much. She came with a sharp gasp, her body trembling, as she continued to worship Tess's boots with her tongue. The room was filled with a stunned silence, the shock of Becca's actions still hanging in the air.

Lisa, growing restless and eager for another fix, decided to pay Dennis a visit. Dennis had always been good company, even if he had refused her advances in the past.

Walking into the dimly lit lab, Lisa couldn't help but let out a sigh of disappointment. It seemed Dennis wasn't in. She wandered around the room aimlessly, her eyes scanning the rows of equipment and paperwork strewn about. It wasn't long before her eyes landed on a small fridge tucked away in a corner.

Intrigued, Lisa approached the fridge and, without a second thought, opened it. Her eyes widened in shock and, oddly enough, excitement at what she saw. A dozen vials, all filled with thick, creamy liquid. It didn't take a genius to figure out what it was.

Lisa didn't even bother to question why Dennis would keep such a thing. She was too consumed by her craving, her need. One by one, she uncapped the vials, letting the salty, musky scent fill her nostrils. Her mouth watered in anticipation.

She raised the first vial to her lips, letting the cold liquid slide down her throat. It was slightly bitter, just the way she liked it. She swallowed greedily, her eyes rolling back in pleasure. The taste, the smell, it was everything she'd been craving.

Lisa laid on the floor, her back against the cool tiles, as she continued to gulp down the contents of the vials. Some of it overflowed, dribbling down her chin, staining her shirt. She didn't care. She was too lost in her own world, too consumed by her own pleasure.

Her hand slid down her body, slipping under her skirt. She was soaking wet, the fabric of her panties practically drenched. She moaned softly as her fingers brushed against her clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through her. She was so lost in her ecstasy, she didn't even notice the figure lying in the corner of the room.

It wasn't until she'd finished the last vial, her body shaking with the intensity of her orgasm, that she noticed the dark shape in the corner. Squinting in the dim light, she finally made out what it was.

Dennis. His lifeless body lay slumped against the wall, a pool of blood seeping out from under his head. His eyes stared blankly at the ceiling.

For a moment, Lisa just lay there, panting heavily, her body still trembling from her climax. She stared at Dennis's body, the realization of what had happened slowly sinking in.