Chapter 4: Fuck All Day
The smell never really left the air. It just settled, weaving into the fabric of the curtains, the grout between the tiles, the very plaster of the walls. It was the baseline now, a musky, sweet-rotten perfume that defined the apartment and everything in it.
Ellie, riding the high of total control, decided to conduct an experiment.
“So,” she said, clapping her hands together like a kid about to start a science fair project. Brianna and Kendra, naked and kneeling by the sofa, flinched at the sound, their eyes immediately seeking hers. “We’re gonna see how long this lasts. The, uh, the effect. And what happens when we… stress test it.”
The stress test was, essentially, Ellie fucking them senseless for the entirety of a slow, syrupy Saturday.
It began on the living room floor. The coarse beige carpet scratched against Kendra’s back as Ellie mounted her from behind. There was no finesse, no slow build. Ellie just lined herself up and drove forward, a single, brutal thrust that punched the air from Kendra’s lungs in a loud oof. Ellie set a punishing rhythm immediately, her hips slapping against the dense, jiggling flesh of Kendra’s ass with a wet, meaty crack that echoed off the empty chip bags and abandoned remotes.
“You feel that?” Ellie grunted, her glasses askew, sweat beading on her forehead. “That’s all you are now. Just a set of holes. A really, really nice set of holes.” She reached around, her fingers digging into the softness of Kendra’s belly. “These big, spoiled guts. I can feel ‘em sloshing.”
Kendra could only moan, a continuous, blissed-out sound, her fingers clawing at the carpet fibers. Brianna watched, her own hand between her legs, working furiously, her mouth slack.
Ellie didn’t stop when she finished. She pulled out, a slick, messy sound, and painted stripes of white across the trembling expanse of Kendra’s back. Then she turned, still breathing hard, and crooked a finger at Brianna. “Your turn. On the table. I want to hear it rattle.”
Brianna scrambled, her heavy breasts swinging. She bent over the cheap IKEA coffee table, which groaned in protest under her weight. Ellie didn’t make her wait. The angle was different, deeper, and Brianna’s shrieks were higher, more frantic. Each impact shook the table, making a half-empty can of soda buzz and topple over, spraying brown fizz across the mess.
“Yeah, squeal,” Ellie panted, a giddy, unhinged grin on her face. “Let the whole building know what a greedy piggy you are. Come on, pig. Let me hear that ass talk.”
As if on command, a sharp, staccato fart burst from Brianna with each downward thrust. Pfft. Pfft. Pfft. Ellie laughed, a delighted, snorting sound. “There it is! That’s my girl! Your special talent!”
The day dissolved into a sweaty, sticky montage of possession.
She took Brianna on the sticky kitchen counter, sending a forgotten jar of peanut butter clattering into the sink. She had Kendra ride her on the sofa, instructing her to “bounce those giant tits right in my face, come on, you can do it.” She made them lay head-to-toe on the floor and moved between them, fucking one mouth then the other, then switching back, a continuous, sloppy circuit of gasps and gags.
Cum ended up everywhere. In their hair, across their faces, streaked on the windowsill. Ellie, who used to meticulously clean her keyboard with alcohol wipes, now smeared it across their lips with her thumb, telling them to lick it clean. They did, eagerly.
During a lull, while they lay panting in a heap of limbs, Ellie pulled out her phone. Her screen was cracked. She opened the camera app. “Okay, uh, documentary time,” she announced, her voice shifting to a mock-serious, vlogger tone. “Day One of Project Hog. Subjects are… well, they’re degraded. Totally braindead. Observe.”
She panned the camera over their prone, filthy bodies. She zoomed in on Kendra’s glazed eyes. “Can you say hello to the nice people, Kenny?”
Kendra blinked slowly at the lens. “Ellie’s,” she slurred.
“Good pig!” Ellie chirped, zooming in on Brianna’s gaping mouth. “And what are you, Bri-Bri?”
“A… a piggy,” Brianna whispered, a tear of sheer overwhelm tracing through the mess on her cheek.
“My piggy,” Ellie corrected, off-camera. She dropped the phone then, but left it recording, a silent witness on the armchair as she crawled back into the tangle of them, murmuring, “Mine, mine, mine.”
In a moment of inspired domesticity, she ordered them to the kitchen. She pulled out the cheapest, greasiest frozen pizzas from the depths of the freezer. She made them eat directly off the baking trays, no plates, while they knelt on the floor. “Eat up,” she said, leaning against the counter, watching them gorge. “Gotta keep your strength up. And gotta feed those legendary asses.” While they chewed, open-mouthed and sloppy, she browsed her phone, tapping quickly. Two heavy ceramic pet bowls, one pink, one black, added to cart. Two wide, padded leather collars, same colors. Overnight shipping.
As the sky outside deepened to a bruised purple, the energy finally began to wane. Ellie’s own body ached in a fantastic, novel way. She was spent, dripping, reveling in the profound animal stink of herself and her acquisitions.
She collapsed into the nest of blankets and pillows they’d dragged to the center of the living room. A contented sigh hissed through her teeth. Without a word, Brianna and Kendra arranged themselves at her sides. Their noses sought out the damp, salty hollows of her armpits. They inhaled deeply, their bodies going limp with satisfaction, and began to lick and nuzzle at the sour skin there with a reverence that bordered on religious.
Ellie closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them. She smiled into the darkening room. Her hands, moving with a casual ownership that was now second nature, reached out. One buried itself in the warm, fleshy swell of Brianna’s ass. The other slid between Kendra’s powerful thighs, cupping the full, heavy curve from behind.
They sighed against her, their rhythms syncing to the slow, possessive kneading of her fingers. The only sounds were their wet, snuffling breaths, the soft squelch of Ellie’s hands working their flesh, and the distant, digital chime from her phone confirming the order was placed.