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Chapter Text

Chapter One – Spot the Psycho (Cornbugs)

June 2 nd , 1976

Tiffanie-Jenn kept her eyes glued to the road, acrylics tapping impatiently on the wheel. Every time Saul opened his mouth (likely to complain) she reached down to turn up the music. He still hadn’t learned how to shut his mouth so the music was obscenely loud—screaming guitars and bass shaking her pink pickup with every drum hit. The Texas roads seemed to stretch on forever, broken sporadically by small redneck towns and cheap roadside attractions. Numerous times Tiff had tried to pull over but Saul had continually insisted they reach a hotel sooner rather than later. Still, with the sun beginning to set and even a seedy motel in sight, Tiff had decided she wasn’t listening to Saul anymore. They would have been off the road by now if Saul had let his companion seduce her way into a motel room with some strangers but apparently, he “had standards” and “morals” whatever the fuck those were. Tiff had long-since decided upholding her parent’s stuffy Christian values was lame and took far too much effort when she could just suck a cock and get almost anything she wanted. As they trundled along the road (more pothole than road) Tiff, not for the first time, regretted agreeing to ferry Saul across Texas. In what would a self-respecting woman drive her ex-boyfriend to his family home? Tiff didn’t know but she was running low on self-respect… and patience, so when a neon billboard flashed past advertising Captain Spaulding’s Museum of Monsters and Madmen she ignored Sauls protests as she took the exit. Eventually fed up with her, Saul reached over the console to turn off the radio, his own shouting replacing her music.

“It’s late! We should be finding somewhere to sleep, not visiting sadistic tourist attractions!” He whined. Tiff slapped his hand away, “accidentally” stabbing him with her nail.

“Look! They have gas, asshole,” she said “ooh, and fried chicken!”

“Like you need to eat more fatass. Have you ever even looked at a salad?” Saul grumbled, rubbing his hand.

“More for guys to hold onto,” she shrugged, pulling up beside a pump and turning off the truck.

“What? Like it’s appealing to stare at all those fat rolls while they fuck you?” He shot her a look, getting out of the car himself and straightening his (likely expensive) t-shirt.

“I know you’re not speaking from experience because my fat rolls never stopped you from being a one-pump-chump. Were you a preemie? I should ask your mama if you came early then too,” Tiff scoffed, tossing fried blonde hair over her shoulder.

“You’re disgusting, Tiff,” Saul spat, rounding the truck. She sidled up to him, batting her lashes up at him and pouting her overly-glossed lips. He froze, heart pumping as her tits pressed into her arm and she reached around him, hand creeping by his ass. Then the smile dropped, and before he knew it she was halfway to the museum doors, his wallet in her hand.

“Just pump the gas fuckwad,”

He groaned and did what he was told. Inside, Tiff looked around, sidling up to the counter. No one was manning the front so she dinged the bell and took a moment to look around at the absurd taxidermy and freakish experiments that cluttered the room. When her tummy rumbled, she turned her attention to the fried chicken behind the glass beneath the counter. Bent over to get a closer look, her denim shorts rode up her ass and her tits threatened to fall out of her tank top–her favorite blue one with the playboy bunny on the front. 

“Hello there,” someone said and Tiff squeaked and straightened.

“Hi!” she smiled, leaning on the counter and giving the man a once over. He was tall, dressed in a clown suit, face painted from his bald head to his beard, yellow teeth accentuated by black lips.

“Captain Spaulding, I presume?” she smiled, leaning against the counter.

“You presume correct little lady!” He moved past her to stand behind the counter, “what can I do for ya?”

“Well I have a question to start,”

“Shoot,”

“Can I get the chicken before I look at the freak shit or are you one of those ‘don’t get grease on my glass’ assholes?” She smiled up at him innocently.

“You can buy as much chicken as you like whenever you like but if you get crumbs on my taxidermy I’ll shoot ya myself,” he smiled and Tiff knew he wasn’t joking.

“You drive a hard bargain, I’ll take ten pieces,” Tiff opened Saul’s wallet and flipped through it, pulling out a wad of cash, “oh and my truck’s at pump one,” 

“I gotcha sweetheart,” Captain Spaulding said as he took the cash and shoved it all in the register without looking before bending down to fill a paper bag with chicken, tossing it on the counter. Tiff took it without a word and grabbed a leg, taking a bite and moaning.

“Holy shit man, you make this?” Tiff asked, taking another filthy open-mouthed bite.

“Yup!”

“I’d suck some serious dick for chicken this good,” she groaned as the bell above the door rang.

“Living up to your reputation as a fat slut,” Saul grumbled, snatching his wallet off the counter, “I told you I’d pay for gas on this trip, not your filthy habits,”

Tiff ignored him and looked up at Spaulding “ignore him, he’s just bitter he can’t thrust hard enough to make my tits bounce. He compensates for having no dick by having no personality either.”

Spaulding cackled as Saul glared at her. 

“At least I don’t make my pussy my whole personality,” he huffed, crossing his arms.

“I take offense to that! I only make it half my personality, the rest is my anger issues and criminally low standards,” she scoffed through a mouthful of chicken. 

“You can say that again,” Saul groaned, “you proved that earlier tonight.”

“What’d she do?” Spaulding inquired, picking his teeth with a monkey’s paw.

“Offered herself for a motel room,” Saul said in a tone that clearly indicated that Spaulding should be offended by this too. 

“Not many of those out here,” Spaulding shrugged, “that probably was your best bet for getting one. Nothing for a good 20 miles from here.”

“Aww fuck, looks like we’re sleeping in the truck… unless?” she fluttered her eyelashes at Spaulding. He laughed again.

“Sorry, doll. No vacancy.”

“Not even for a BJ?” she pouted as Saul gagged. Spaulding shook his head.

“Anal’s not my preference but I’ll do it,”

“No dice, doll.”

“See? Not even the circus freak wants to fuck your fat ass!” Saul spat.

“It’s not ‘cause she’s fat! Hell, that’s my preference I mean, the bigger the cushion the sweeter the pushin’” Spaulding shoots her a sly look and a seedy smile, Tiff returns it with a wink.

“But,” Spaulding continued, “As much as I’d love a ride, sweet thing, I can’t tonight.”

“Fuck!” She groaned, “and I thought you were a nice clown.”

Before he could answer the bell jingled and a girl in criminally low-rise jeans and a cowboy hat skipped in.

“Hey Daddy! Mama’s not up for cooking tonight so she sent me for whatever fried chicken you got left,” she smiled before catching sight of Tiff.

“Holy shit girl you’re hot!” she gasped, eyes raking across her body, unabashedly eyeing her tits and partially exposed belly.

“Aww thanks girly! You’re fucking stunning,” Tiff responded, wiping grease from her mouth. 

“Aren’t you sweet! What brings you to Ruggsville?” The stranger asked as Spaulding filled a large bucket with the remaining chicken.

“Just passing through. We were hoping to find somewhere to sleep but apparently it’s the truck tonight.”

“Aww no darlin! No one as pretty as you should be sleeping in a car. Tell you what, you come stay with my family. Mama loves company. I’m sure we can find room for you and your boyfriend.” The girl smiled. Tiff gagged.

“Ex-boyfriend. I’m only driving him across the country because I don’t got nothing better to do,” the girl nodded with understanding.

“I didn’t wanna say anything but he looks boring,” Saul shook himself from his stupor (he had been staring at the newcomer’s ass) to make an offended noise.

“My college had slim pickings. I dropped out for more than just my terrible grades,”

“With tits like those, who needs a degree,” she laughed, taking an overflowing bucket of chicken from Spaulding and tossing him a few bills.

“You get it,” Tiff laughed.

“Come on, you can follow me home,” she left the building and Tiff followed, Saul moped after them, “cute truck!”

“Thanks!”

“Hey! Wait, are we just following some rando home?” Saul questioned, finally done staring and coming to his senses. 

“Oh where are my manners! My name is Baby, that there is my brother RJ,” she pointed to a scruffy man sitting in an idling tow-truck. 

“There, now they’re not strangers! Get in the truck,” Tiff hopped in the truck, barely giving Saul a moment to buckle his seatbelt before peeling after them. Thankfully the drive was short, as Saul’s complaining was near-constant. It didn’t stop even when they pulled into the driveway, or when they stepped out of the truck and into the earshot of their guests.

“Seriously this pace looks like it’s about to fall down. I have standards-” suddenly Tiff was facing him, one hand on her hip and glossed lips pulled into a snarl.

“I don’t give a damn, rich boy! I don’t care how much cash you have unless I’m the one holding your wallet. If we were anywhere near a hotel up to your standards you could feel free to stay there but we’re not! And this fine piece of ass offered us somewhere to stay and I’m the one with the car so if you wanna walk somewhere else, be my guest!” Saul glanced back at the gate and the miles of dirt road beyond before opening his mouth. One of Tiff’s fingers silenced him, smushing his lips.

“Ah, ah, ah, you’re either gonna turn around and walk yourself to your family’s house in California, or you’re gonna keep your mouth shut,” she batted her eyelashes at him in a false innocence that completely contrasted the danger in her tone. 

“Do I get a third option?” he snarked back.

“Yeah!” Tiff said, retreating in the direction of Baby who was giggling as she watched their display, “I cut your dick off!”

Eyes wide, Saul followed reluctantly. RJ followed after him, quiet and imposing. Ahead of them, Baby was dragging Tiff by the arm and they were giggling, looking at the wall of limbless dolls nailed to the wall by the door. 

“These all yours?” Tiff asked, seemingly intrigued.

“Yep! Went through a lot of babydolls as a kid,” Baby responded, shouldering the door open.

“Mama!” She called as RJ sidled off, leaving Saul to trail after Tiff and the dixie chick, eyeing the messy house nervously, “I brought a couple guests, hope you don’t mind!” 

Baby deposited the chicken on a cluttered table before dragging Tiff to an even messier kitchen to gather plates.

“Sorry, we weren’t expecting guests,” Baby giggled.

“That’s obvious,” Saul muttered and Tiff shot him a glare.

“What’s obvious is you have no emotional attachment to your balls,” she smiled before letting Baby drag her back to the dining room, leaving Saul sputtering, one hand subconsciously clutching his balls. Saul stood alone for a moment, biting his tongue. Had she always been this much of a bitch? Yes. The answer came easy–that’s why he dated her, on a bet of all things. Drunk at the college bar he had made a comment to the sexy bratty chick that he could tame her–she said if he did she’d get his name tattooed on her wherever he wanted. A year of his college dating years wasted, and now he was stuck in a crap shack in butt-fuck nowhere Texas.

“You tryna fucking wank it subtly because I don’t appreciate jizz stains in my kitchen, shit stain” a ragged accented voice snarled and Saul spun around, hand springing away from his crotch. It belonged to a tall scraggly man, complexion pale and gaunt. His eyes were red-rimmed and his stringy platinum hair framing his scraggy face. Saul shot him a look and didn’t answer, choosing to sidle after his ill-chosen ex. In the dining room, Tiff and Baby had been joined by an older woman in lurid pink lipstick and blue bustier who was greeting her guest enthusiastically. 

“Well aren’t you a pretty one!” She smiled, pulling Tiff into a side hug that threatened to force her heaving breasts out of their meager covering. 

“Why thank you! You have a lovely house, the decorations are gorgeous,” Tiff responded. Saul snorted.

“Hoarder chic,” he muttered none-too quietly. All three women looked up and shot him a glare.

“Who's your friend?” the older woman said icily.

“Less of a friend, more of an unwanted burden,” Tiff snorted.

“Unwanted! You volunteered to drive me-”

“Only because your privileged ass never learned to drive and I had nothing better to do than torment your sorry ass. I don’t care how important your daddy is. It’s not my fault he didn’t teach you any manners,” Tiff scoffed, tossing her hair before turning to the older woman. Saul, however, wasn’t done.

“Hey! Don’t turn away from me slut, I’m not done,” when she continued to ignore him he turned to the tall man who had appeared beside him, “you fuck a woman once and she gets all entitled…” he trailed off and gulped taking in the figure beside him. He was massive and… lumpy? His misshapen head was covered by a strange leather mask and he stared at Saul as though perplexed.

“I don’t appreciate you using that kind of language in my house mister,” the older woman said, “and I’m sure Tiny doesn’t either. He’s always had a soft spot for the ladies.”

She nudged Tiff and gave her a wink and she responded by waving at the giant man “hi Tiny!”

Tiny grunted and nodded bashfully, making his way to the table as the older woman explained that he was deaf due to a terrible fire set by her ex husband, Earl. 

“That’s terrible Mrs. Firefly!” Tiff said, sitting down between the older woman—Mrs. Firefly—and Baby. 

“Oh he’s alright, honey, we take care of him. And call me Mama, everyone does.”

Saul stood awkwardly in the doorway watching as the table filled; the man with the truck (RJ) and an old man (who they called Grandpa Hugo). He edged forward awkwardly, settling himself in the chair next to the two newcomers. He didn’t notice the silence that fell over the table until he looked up from his slightly cracked plate to see everyone staring at him. No, not at him, behind him. He glanced upward to see the same scraggly man from earlier hovering over him. 

“That’s my seat, jackass,” he grumbled. 

“I don’t see any place cards,” Saul snarked, looking down and crossing his arms. He settled his gaze resolutely on the wall above Tiff’s head. Apparently he should have been looking at her, because a moment later something hard and cold and a little sharp smacked him in the forehead. 

“What the fuck!” He screeched, hand springing up to feel his forehead. Looking down at his plate he saw a fork–old, ornate, and slightly bloody.

“Manners, dickwad! Just cause this isn’t one of your daddy’s fuckass galas doesn’t mean you can be an ass,” Tiff groaned, taking a moment to mutter under her breath before turning to Mama Firefly and apologizing. Saul opened his mouth to argue before catching the scraggly man’s eye. Silently, he stood and moved to the other empty chair.

“I’ll get ya some iodine,” Mama said a little coldly, disappearing for a moment as the newcomer sat, slightly hunched, his watery eyes raking over Tiff.

“Hey!” She smiled, batting her lashes at the stranger as though she hadn’t just thrown a fork at her travel companion.

“That’s Otis,” Baby added when he didn’t speak. 

“Hi Otis,” Tiff said, acutely aware of how his eyes were roaming over her exposed cleavage and soft skin. Yet his gaze wasn’t filled with the same type of lechery she was used to. There was lust, yes, but it seemed to run deeper and darker. He wanted to do more than run his hands over her tits, that was for sure. Freak… Tiff could work with that. Their strangely charged staring was broken when Mama entered with a rag dripping in something dark, immediately pressing it to the cut on Saul’s forehead. He hissed in pain, pushing her hand away.

“If you want an infection, fine by me,” Mama huffed as Baby laughed.

“You’re such a crybaby!” Baby laughed, nudging Tiff.

“Isn’t he just?” Tiff laughed, turning her attention to her new friend.

“Shut up, woman! God!” Saul spat, “let you on my dick once and you decide you act like you’re entitled to an opinion on everything I do. Women used to know how to behave!”

He huffed into the brief silence that followed his declaration. A moment later it was broken by a snort of laughter from Tiff.

“God you’re such a douche!” She cackled, “I’d let you get away with bullshit comments like that if you actually had any value as a man but instead you act like you’re entitled to control because I let you stick it in a couple times. Don’t act like you have the skills to tame a woman if you can’t put your money where your cock is. Most mediocre dick in the fucking country,” she finished with a mumble that sent Baby into a fit of laughter.

“What?” Otis barked, squinting at Tiff between amusement and curiosity, “so you’re saying if you get fucked hard enough you’ll just turn into a pretty submissive hole for your guy to fuck?”

“Not by a long shot,” she laughed, running her tongue over her teeth, “but I figure since that's so hard to do if a guy can do that he can handle the rest of me.”

Otis looked at her with renewed interest, something dangerous glinting in his eyes, “sounds like you want to be housebroken.” Tiff shivered under his gaze. Something about him felt dangerous, more than just a redneck freak talking big. 

“What and you think you’re the one to do it?” Tiff challenged. She’d like to see him try… genuinely, she was intrigued. 

“You bet I could mama,”

“Can y’all shut up? I wanna eat!” Grandpa Hugo grouched.

“Shut up fuckwad!” Otis spat back.

“Oh come on boys!” Mama said, placing some kind of casserole on the table. Hugo immediately grabbed the serving spoon, filling his plate before he began stuffing his face. Saul audibly gagged.

“There’s no way I’m eating that,” he scoffed. Baby’s sweet face soured in seconds and she stood up, leaning across RJ to hold her butter knife in his face.

“Y’know I’m getting real sick of you!” She said matter-of-factly. “Seriously, we’re just tryna be fucking hospitable!”

“What the fuck!” he shrieked, pushing his chair away from Baby, “I’m used to Tiff being a freak. I should’ve known she would somehow get us stuck in a fucking madhouse!”

Tiff ignored his comment, torn between admiring the sliver of Baby’s ass crack that was visible at her waistline, and laughing at Saul’s terrified face. Nearly falling from his chair, Saul scrambled to his feet, backing away.

“You know what? Fine! Have fun with your freaks, I’m outta here,” he stormed for the door, only to find the looming figure of Tiny in his way.

“‘Fraid I can’t let you do that honey,” Mama said regretfully. Saul whipped around, glancing around. Grandpa Hugo was still shivering mystery meat casserole into his mouth but almost everyone else was standing. Mama had stepped away from the table, allowing Baby to round the table to stand beside Otis, an unreadable expression on his face as his hand flexed on the handle of something in his hand. RJ stood off to the side, not actively approaching as Baby and Otis were, instead using his large frame to block the other door. Tiff had frozen, eyes darting from one person to the next, an odd expression on her face. Whatever she was feeling, it didn’t look like fear. Heart pumping in his ears, Saul backed away from Tiny only to find himself face-to-face with Baby. He lunged, hoping to overpower her but the moment he moved to grab her a pair of spindly hands dug into his arms with bruising force. He saw Tiff try to stand but Mama put her hands on her shoulders forcing her back into her seat. Fuck his hip hurt. Why? He looked down to see the hilt of a steak knife protruding from just below the waistband of his designer jeans. 

“What the fuck,” he coughed, the sight of his own blood making him queasy. 

“What the fuck!” Tiff shrieked, pushing Mama’s hands off her and rounding the table to stand in front of Otis, ignoring Saul as he reached a hand out to her. 

“Yer awfully feisty for-”

“No shut up dickwad, I had fucking dibs on that!” Tiff spat, crossing her arms over her chest, tits dangerously close to falling out of their top. Saul choked slightly as Otis released his grip on him and he slumped to the floor. 

“Dibs?” He coughed.

“Shut up!” Otis and Tiff yelled at the same time, Tiff stomping on his balls for good measure. 

“You think I put up with him for fun? Sorry you guys are impatient but I was playing the long fucking game and I was looking forward to that!” Tiff poked a finger into Otis’s chest, leaning over Saul to force her face close to his.

“Didn’t know this was a fucking playground, slut!” Otis spat, wafting his beer-stink breath into her face.

“Not my fault mommy never told you know. You’re not entitled to kill every annoying ass that passes your way,” Tiff grimaced at his smell.

“I’ll kill whoever I damn well please,” he grunted, shoving her back so he could bend down and yank the knife out of Saul. Saul screamed in agony, but was ignored. Just as Otis lunged for Tiff a strong hand clenched around his arm. He turned to see Tiny looming over him.

“Get the fuck off me!” He growled, shrugging him off.

“Be nice to your brother, Otis,” Mama scolded, moving to stand beside Tiff. Scowling, Otis paused his brandishing to look around. Clearly Tiny liked the newcomer and didn’t want him to hurt her, Mama too. Baby was looking at Tiff with a mix of excitement and intrigue in her expression while RJ eyed her with silent interest, still guarding the other door. Grandpa Hugo was still shoveling food into his mouth, eyes glued to the scene as if he were watching a movie. He snarled and crossed his arms.

“The fuck do you want me to do then?”

“Well,” said Mama, “I wanna know what this young lady was gonna do to this fella for one.” She gestured to Saul who was whimpering and clutching his oozing wound. Otis kicked him. Tiff laughed a little as Saul cried out in pain, then shrugged.

“It’s a little game I like to play…”

“I love games!” Baby clapped her hands eagerly. Tiff giggled a bit, a smiled at baby.

“Why don’t we discuss over desert, hm?”

Chapter Text

Damn Mama and her hospitality. She had insisted that everyone sit back down while she served desert, leaving RJ to tie and gag Saul, leaving him whimpering on the floor in the corner while Otis glared suspiciously at Tiff. When she had first arrived, he had amused himself with vivid images of ruining her—sadistic torture, rape, painful and elongated. He liked girls with a bit of flesh on them, more to carve and mark. She would’ve made a lovely art piece. All her comments about her travel companion’s limp dick had given Otis plenty of fuel for fantasy. She wanted a good fuck? He’d give her that and more until she was begging him to stop. He wouldn’t. Whatever reason she had for wanting to kill that jackass… Saul? Something about that pissed him off. Otis only wanted to break through that bratty attitude even more desperately.

“Great cake Mama!” Tiff cooed, voice false in its cheeriness.

“Aww thank you honey. It was a new recipe and it just took me so long to figure it out I had to send Baby to get that chicken for dinner,” Mama smiled at her, ever susceptible to flattery.

“Oh shut up and git on with explaining, bitch,” Otis growled.

“Aren’t you charming,” Tiff snorted, “fine.” She took another large mouthful of cake, taking her time to savor it before beginning her explanation.

“Like I said, it’s a game I like to play. I don’t have much else to do, but I don’t really have a buffer between me and the law so I gotta drag it out you know? Change my name, find some asshole, spend time with him until I hate his guts so when I get around to carving him up it’s real satisfying. I was gonna take my sweet time with him till you ruined it,” she shot Otis a dirty look.

“That explains fuckin nothin,” Otis spat.

“Oh it explains plenty,” Baby waved him away, “she’s like us! Ain’t she Mama?”

“Remember when we took you in, Otis?” Mama said, a reminiscent glint in her eye. Otis scowled. Of course he remembered, but he had earned his spot in this family. He was practically head of the fucking household.

“Well she ain’t fucking freeloading,” he growled, standing suddenly, “you’re on trial slut,”

“You ain’t seen nothing yet Otis,” Tiff said, her voice oozing with sarcastic flirtation. He hated the way she chewed over his name slowly—dragging out every syllable like a rope pulling him back. He ignored her, scowling and stomping over to their whining hostage, grabbing him by the hair and beginning to drag him out of the room.

“Hey!” Tiff said, pouting in a way that made Otis want to punch the look off her face, “I had dibs asshole!”

“People on probation don’t get to play,” he spat.

“Probation?” Tiff laughed, “and what are you, my probation officer? You gonna make sure I behave, hm?” She bit her lip seductively, standing up and leaning forward, giving him a clear view of her substantial cleavage.

“Come on Otis, don’t be a party pooper,” Baby whined, defending her new friend, “let her play with him!”

“If you’re so unsure about her it might help to see if she’ll fit in here hm?” Mama said, placing a manicured hand on Tiff’s shoulder.

“Wait you want me to stay?” Tiff said, placing a hand on her heart and cooing at Mama.

“Well Baby sure likes you, though she’s not really in charge of who gets to stay…” Mama said.

“What? Is it him?” Tiff scoffed, pointing at Otis. He kicked Saul to vent some frustration.

“No, it’s up to daddy!” Baby said, playing with her own hair.

“Wait…” Tiff said biting her lip in concentration, “didn’t you call that guy at the freak museum daddy? He lives here?”

“Nope!” She said, popping the p, “but he’s still kinda in charge y’know?”

“Me and John had… a bit of a falling out,” Mama said, adjusting her top self-consciously.

“Well Cutter ain’t here is he,” Otis grumbled, “he might help us out but when he’s not here, I’m in charge, ya got that?”

“So commanding,” Tiff said, eyes raking up and down his figure.

“Well since you’re so ‘in charge’ Mr. ‘you’re on probation’ shouldn’t you be checking her out?” Baby huffed at Otis. Tiff struck a pose, making Baby laugh.

“Not check you out like that! Check you out as in see if you really fit in, y’know?”

“Fine!” Otis grunted, “come on,”

“Yes officer,” Tiff said, strutting over to him, “by the way, if you wanna check me out in other ways too, I wont be offended if you look at my ass while I fuck with Saul. I get really enthusiastic… it jiggles.”

“You talk too much, slut,”

“What? You got other uses for my mouth, stud?” Tiff giggled, leaning down and grabbing one of Saul’s ankles.

“Come on jackass,” she said, beginning to drag him with surprising strength before freezing, “where am I going?”

Out in the shed, Otis strung up their newest guest on the cross. While he did so, Tiff perused the table of knives, razors, and other accoutrement used to cause pain. It was a rather impressive collection. She took her time tracing her fingers over each blade and handle, moving from knives to paddles to whips to chains to axes.

“Is this a torture shed or a BDSM dungeon?” she laughed, turning her head to look at Otis who was watching her silently.

“Fine line between the two,” he said, “you gonna git on with it?”

“Don’t rush me!” Tiff pouted, turning around and grabbing a large pair of scissors. She approached Saul, a bounce in her step, and yanked the gag from his mouth. He immediately began screaming, cussing her out in an impressive display of the unsavory side of his vocabulary. Tiff groaned and pressed her hand over his mouth.

“Do you ever shut up?” She spat, venom twisting her face as she sneered at him. In response, Saul bit her hand. Without hesitation she recoiled her hand only to bring it back swinging around, the sound of the slap resonating throughout the small space.

“Is this place soundproofed?” Tiff said, shouting over Saul’s renewed cussing. Otis shrugged.

“Too far out for it to matter,” he sucked his teeth, still thoroughly unimpressed. Tiff only nodded and turned back to Saul.

“All you do is fucking complain you know?” she said.

“You’re fucking crazy!” Saul spat. Tiff rolled her eyes.

“Tell me something I don’t know. Can’t you say something nice?”

“I hope you rot in jail you crazy slut,” he sneered. Tiff didn’t respond, instead choosing to approach him, lifting her hands to his face once more. He snapped his teeth and she backhanded him once more, a thin trickle of blood now seeping from his nose.

“If you can’t perk up that attitude and have a little fun, I’m just gonna have to make you,” she growled, any trace of her usual false cheeriness gone. One hand forced itself into his mouth, forcing his jaw open wide, the other held the scissors aloft, opening them wide. Before Saul had the chance to try and snap his jaw shut the scissors were in his mouth, snapping shut on his cheek, splitting flesh from flesh. Saul screamed, not a curse or insult, but a pure guttural cry of agony as Tiff sliced his face from the corner of his lips to the top of his cheekbone. Otis couldn’t help the smirk that rose to his face. He might not like the bitch doing the torturing, but fuck he could always enjoy some gratuitous violence. Tiff made quick work of the other cheek, carving a sagging manic smile into Saul’s face. She closed the scissors, stabbing them into her victim’s thigh, eliciting another horrified scream.

“Hold those for me, hm? God, you’re so helpful when you just shut up and do what I tell you,” she laughed almost bitterly and turned to the table again, picking up a large carving knife. With one fast swipe she made quick work of his clothes, the front of his shirt falling in tatters to the floor, the tip of the knife leaving hairline cuts along his torso. Dropping to her knees, Tiff made fast work of his belt buckle, tugging down his pants just enough to free his cock, the barely scabbed wound on his hip clearly visible. Tiff giggled and flicked it, eliciting a whine.

“Limp dick again, Saul?” Tiff pouted, “you always were a disappointment,”

He could only whimper, unable to form words with his cheeks torn.

“Don’t worry little guy, I’ve got big plans for you,” she smiled, raising the knife once more and without warning she took his cock in her hand, holding it taught, only to slice straight through the middle. The decapitated tip fell to the floor, leaving only a bleeding stump and a screaming Saul.

“Now it looks as small as it feels,” she teased, raising to her feet. She took a moment to pout at him in mock sympathy. Deciding she had relished in his screaming long enough she dropped the knife moving towards the table. Otis stood beside it, arms crossed. He was itching to join in, to cut the bitch for all he was worth, but never enough to kill him. Tiff was certainly proving to be an accomplished torturer. It pissed him off.

“I’m really liking this set up!” Tiff remarked, reaching for a pair of pliers. Deciding he’d had enough of watching, Otis reached for the table himself, purposefully intercepting her own path.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” Tiff groaned, smacking his hand away to reach for the pliers once more. With a growl Otis grabbed her wrist.

“My house, my rules,” he spat.

“Dibs!” Tiff responded matter-of-factly.

“Not how it works here, doll. Daddy’s in charge,” he said mockingly.

“Daddy, huh? I had you pegged as a ‘sir’ or ‘master’ kinda guy but I can work with daddy,”

“You sure like to talk don’t you? Don’t you have anything better to do,” he yanked her forward by the wrist, his face close to hers. Once again his hoppy breath wafted over her.

“Yeah, torturing that jackass,” she jerked her head back towards Saul who whimpered on the cross, head hung low, “or did you mean my mouth specifically, because I can think of something else it could be doing.”

Otis growled and reached out with his free hand, grabbing a fistful of her hair and forcing her head back, a venomous retort on his lips. It died when instead of a grunt of pain or a quippy remark she… moaned.

“You know what, since you seem real eager to be treated like a slut why don’t I indulge you?” Otis grunted, releasing her wrist to grab her throat. She gasped, both her hands lifting to try and pull him off her throat. He didn’t budge.

“Nuh uh slut, you’ve been talking big. Well guess what? This is your lucky day; you’re getting exactly what you want,” he lowered his face to her ear “ready to be fucking housebroken?”

Tiff panted and let out a hoarse whine, her confidence slipping slightly. Otis grinned triumphantly, releasing her hair, instead using his leverage on her throat to force her onto her knees. Using his free hand Otis began to fumble with his belt, cock already growing hard. It had been a while since he had fucked a warm body and it wasn’t hard to admit he enjoyed the idea of knocking a brat down a notch. Saul whimpered.

“I’ll get to you later,” he spat, only briefly pulling his attention away from Tiff before continuing his task of freeing his cock.

“Now you ain’t gonna cut mine off are you?” Otis said, more demand than question. Tiff gasped for air as Otis loosened his grip on her.

“Fuck you,” she spat. Otis chuckled and shook his head.

“Nuh uh, mama, you don’t get to be bratty. What was it you said earlier… that fella couldn’t put his money where his cock was? You’re seeming mighty hypocritical right now.”

Tiff responded by lunging for the table, succeeding only in grabbing the blade of a knife, slicing her palm.

“Fuck,” she swore as Otis tackled her.

“If you can’t behave I’m gonna have to make you, mama,” he growled, pinning her arms to her sides. When she continued to struggle against him he only grunted, grabbing a length of rope and pressing her face don onto the floor, pinning her arms behind her. Somehow managing to hold her thrashing arms still, Otis bound the rope around them tight. Tiff cursed and struggled, though her thrashing seemed to decrease with each movement. Glancing over her shoulder, Otis caught her eye, a strange glint in her expression. A moment later she had burst into a fit of laugher, kneeling on the rough floor, arms pinned behind her.

“What’s so goddamn funny,” Otis spat, choking back an odd mix of frustration and amusement. He didn’t want her to want this, or enjoy this. She had pissed him off and he wanted her to pay for it.

“I knew you wanted me,” she giggled, blinking up at him through her lashes. Otis only responded by lurching forward, one hand yanking on her hair, the other pumping his hardening cock in front of her face.

“The only thing I want is for you to shut up and put that mouth to better use,” he said, glaring down at her. He had to admit, though, having a somewhat-willing participant was a pleasant change. Still, wouldn’t stop him from roughing her up a bit. He released his cock, forcing his thumb in her mouth, holding her mouth wide like he were checking the health of a showroom dog. Leaning over her he spat into her mouth, eliciting a small squeal of surprise that was silenced with a quick slap and another tug on her hair.

“You gonna be a good slut, hm?”

“Why would I do that?” She pouted, tilting her head as much as she could with Otis holding her hair.

“I’m sure I’ll find a good reason,” Otis grunted, “now open up and if I feel the tiniest scape of teeth I’m chaining you up with your boyfriend.”

He didn’t give her a change to answer, opting to slide his cockhead into her mouth, groaning at the feeling of her warm wet tongue caressing the underside. Without warning, Otis fisted both his hands in her hair, eliciting a strangled moan. Grunting at the feeling, he began thrusting into her mouth. Rough, fast, and hard, Tiff gasped and gagged around him, tears welling in her eyes. Her entire body shook with the effort of breathing through his violent onslaught. Despite the roughness of his treatment, Otis felt her tongue moving, feeling across his cock, sucking him down almost eagerly.

“You have a real control issue, mama,” Otis said between violent thrusts, “can’t even get face fucked without tryna do more,”

Tiff could only moan around his cock in response. Otis swore he felt her redouble her efforts, bobbing her head to match his thrusts. He sped up, fisting her hair tighter, trying to increase the speed and force of his thrusts until she had no choice but to relax completely and let him take control. Soon enough he felt her efforts weakening.

“What’s wrong, mama? Yer jaw gettin sore?” he cooed with fake sympathy.

“Answer me!” He spat, yanking on her hair, making her cry out and choke around him. Otis grunted in satisfaction, feeling himself nearing his peak. At the last moment he yanked Tiff off his cock, letting her fall to the floor for a moment as he regained his composure.

“You learned yer lesson yet?” he said, watching her pant and whimper on the dirty floor.

“Well? Speak, bitch, speak!” Otis barked as Tiff gasped for air, tears in her eyes. When she still didn’t answer he growled and kneeled down beside her, grabbing her spit-soaked chin and forcing her to meet his eyes.

“You wanna act like a bad dog, you get treated like a bad dog. Papa Otis is here to train you, but you gotta listen,” he watched her pant for a moment, finally catching her breath.

“Fuck you,” she spat half-heartedly. Otis slapped her.

“Now that ain’t very nice. I was gonna fuck you but bad dogs don’t get rewards,” he tutted.

“I don’t want-“

“Like hell you don’t,” Otis interrupted, “you were getting off on taking my cock. I bet if I feel ya down there now you’d be soaked,”

Tiff opened her mouth to protest once more but all she managed was a reedy whimper. Otis chuckled.

“You’re a bad dog but you can be trained,” he smirked, reaching out to caress her cheek before grabbing her by the face, turning her to face Saul who was still whimpering on the cross.

“You’re telling me he couldn’t break you? When it was this goddamn easy?” He laughed, “or maybe, I’m just special hm? Is that it? You just needed some creative genius to understand how your twisted little brain works.”

Tiff opened her mouth but Otis silenced her with a quick slap, “uh uh uh, I know you weren’t about to argue with me. That would make you a bad dog, and bad dogs don’t get dick,”

An embarrassed flush on her cheeks, Tiff shut her mouth.

“Good girl,” Otis said, patting her head condescendingly, “who’s your daddy?” Tiff blinked at him, unsure if she should answer.

“I said, who’s your daddy?” he grunted, more venom seeping into his voice.

“You’re my daddy,” Tiff said quietly.

“Say it like you mean it, mama,”

“You’re my daddy,” she said louder, some of her earlier bravado seeping into her voice.

“That’s more like it! See how much better it is when you put that energy into being good instead of a fucking brat?” Otis entangled one hand in her hair, tugging gently, “okay, I want you to say it one more time, and if it’s good enough, I might just fuck you.”

“You’re my daddy, Otis!” Tiff cried out, exaggerating somewhat, but not bad for her first lesson. Soon enough he’d have her believing it, not just acting. With a satisfied grin he got to his feet, dragging Tiff up by the hair. She cried out—halfway between a pained cry and pleasured moan. With his free hand, Otis swept the table clear of it’s instruments of torture, sending them crashing to the floor. Using his leverage on her hair, Otis forced her over the table, face pressed against the rough wood. On a whim he laid a harsh slap across her ass, hanging out the bottom of her shorts. She shrieked in surprise, the noise tapering into a slight giggle.

“You’re right, it does jiggle!” Otis laughed, digging his fingers into her waistband, “I bet it jiggles more like this,”

In one fluid motion he forced her shorts and panties down her legs, exposing her dripping cunt to him.

“What’d I tell ya!” He smirked, landing a slap right across her cunt, pulling a sudden moan from her mouth “knew you liked it when I fucked your face,”

Tiff whined, struggling to turn her head to look at him, “I believe I was promised some cock.”

“Yer little friend was right, you are an entitled bitch,” Otis grunted, finding it more amusing than annoying by now. Wouldn’t stop him from fucking out her bad attitude though.

“You were making a lot of big promises earlier. If you can’t… what was it you said? Housebreak me? If you’re not up to it I completely understand,” Tiff smirked, wiggling her hips, tempting him rather unsubtly. Grunting, Otis grabbed a knife off the floor, slamming it into the table beside Tiff’s neck, blade facing her. In another harsh movement he had pushed her upper body so the blade barely nicked her neck.

“I was just gonna fuck ya, maybe rough ya up a little bit, but you still haven’t learned how to keep your mouth shut,” Otis smirked, noticing the sharp glance Tiff directed towards the knife.

“How about this? If you manage to make it through this without getting your throat fucking slit, you can stay, hm? How does that sound?” He smacked her ass once more eliciting another choked moan.

“Fine!”

“Fine?” Otis tutted “come on mama you know what to say,”

“Yes, daddy,” she whined.

“Atta girl, who’s a good doggy now?” He laughed and with one fluid moment he forced himself inside her, the unexpected intrusion making her cry out. Otis swore, one hand gripping her hip with bruising force as the other kept her head pinned to the table. He immediately set a bruising pace, hips rutting desperately into her wet heat.

“Shit, mama. Keep gripping me like that, you’re gonna rip my dick off, relax!” he laughed between grunts. Tiff whined, hands tugging at the rough rope that kept her pinned, acutely aware of how the blade of the knife came dangerously close to nicking her. The added danger made her tense further breath hitching between moans as Otis’ fat cock dragged against her sensitive walls. It had been months since she’d been fucked. Sure, she’s fucked people but it wasn’t the same as this; tied up, manhandled, forced to just take it, each thrust hard enough to make her whole body jerk. Fuck it was good. This was the kind of sex that could get addictive, despite the degradation and humiliation.

“You’re loving every second of this, hey mama?” Otis laughed, “answer me!”

“Yes! Yes daddy,” Tiff grunted, pushing down any desire to argue with him or tease him. If she did he might stop.

“Aww you can learn!” he cackled, yanking on her hair. His panting breaths were becoming ragged, hips stuttering as he neared his peak. Tiff only responded with moans of her own, eyes practically rolling back in her head. A thin trickle of blood dripped down her throat as her own caution lessened. She couldn’t care less in all honesty, so long as she got to cum. A moment later, a particularly harsh thrust sent her over the edge whining desperately as Otis’ fingers dug bruises into her hips.

“Hope yer on birth control,” Otis muttered between harsh grunts, “because this cunt don’t want me to pull out,”

A few thrusts later his hips stalled, a guttural noise escaping his throat as he pressed his hips flush to hers, emptying himself inside her. Tiff whined, feeling his cum filling her up. She hoped Baby had some plan B on hand, because that feeling was addictive. Otis grunted, releasing her and sliding out, a small glob of cum leaking out of her spent pussy.

“Well,” he grunted, tucking himself back into his jeans, “ya didn’t die.”

Yanking the knife out of the table, he used it to slice her bonds. Tiff winced, stretching her arms before pushing herself to sit upright on the table.

“So… I get to stay?” she batted her lashes at him, making Otis scoff.

“For now, but ya clearly haven’t learned respect yet,” he said.

“Guess you’ll just have to discipline me some more,” she smirked, hopping off the table onto shaky legs, pulling on her panties.

“Well I got another obedience lesson right now,” Otis grunted, eyes raking over the blossoming bruises on her hip and ass.

“Oh yeah?” Tiff said biting her lip.

“Yeah, you’re gonna let me have him,” Otis pointed at Saul who was groaning softly. Tiff’s face fell.

“What? But I thought-“

“You had yer fun. If you’re gonna live here you just gotta accept that I’m in charge here, and you do what I say no matter what,” Otis raised an eyebrow at her, awaiting a response.

“Uhg fine!” she sighed, pulling on her shorts. Once she straightened up, Otis saw she had a knife in hand. Before he could stop her she had stomped over to Saul, digging the blade into his shoulder as he shrieked in pain.

“Bitch!” Otis swore, watching as she strutted out of the room, flipping him off over her shoulder. He sighed in frustration. She was gonna be a pain in his ass… but fun to train if he succeeded. And he always succeeded.

Back in the house Tiff wandered around until she ran into Baby in the living room, some old Hollywood movie on.

“Hey Baby?” she asked, making her glance up. She smiled at the sight of her.

“You’re alive!” she said gleefully, taking a moment to take in Tiff’s disheveled appearance.

“And kicking! You got any plan B?” she asked, sending Baby into a fit of giggles.

“I knew it! You guys were totally looking at each other like you were gonna hate fuck. Come on I think I have some. If not we can go get some tomorrow,” Baby stood up, leading Tiff to a small, dirty bathroom. After a moment of digging through a cabinet she emerged with a single pill in its foil packaging.

“So, are you two like… fucking fucking? Or was it just a one-time thing,” Baby asked, dragging Tiff to sit on the couch with her.

“I think its part of my probation. Something about teaching me obedience?” Tiff shrugged.

“Kinky!” Baby laughed, “well I think it’ll be nice to have another girl in the house. Plus I can use you as a human shield whenever Otis is in a mood,”

“What am I supposed to do? Flash him?” Tiff asked, grabbing a handful of Baby’s popcorn.

“No, silly, just let him at ya until he works off the steam. I mean you practically told the whole table at dinner that you like it rough. Nobody’s rougher than Otis. Honestly I’m surprised you’re not bleeding more,” Baby rambled. Tiff raised her eyebrows.

“Well, something to look forward to I guess,” she laughed, pushing herself to her feet, “I should go change, my panties are full of cum.”

Baby laughed and cheered before grabbing Tiff’s hand “come on you can stay with me until we figure everything out. I have a shirt that would look so cute on you!”

Chapter Text

Tiff found herself spending the majority of her time in Baby’s room. Despite Mama’s insistence that she could oust Otis from his second room, Tiff felt that if he was deprived of his art studio on her behalf, she would end up an art project herself. She didn’t mind sharing, really. Baby kept her occupied, dressing her up in the clothes they had stolen from house guests (when they were cute), and letting her join in on the fun every once and a while. She had taken to calling Tiff her Dolly, a nickname most of the house had taken to rather quickly. Mama cooed at them often, calling them her twins and treating Tiff like a second daughter within days of her acceptance into the household. It was an adjustment getting used to the frequent indulgence in her darker entertainments. For years she had played the long game, taking her time to make them trust her (even if they didn’t like her) just so she could relish in the betrayal in their eyes.

There was a different enjoyment in the Firefly family’s instant and constant indulgence. Quiet moments were rare, particularly around Otis’s room. Baby’s room shared a wall with his, and during the rare moments where the girls were apart, Tiff could hear his voice through the walls. Both Tiff and Otis liked to talk while they tortured. However, where Tiff’s preference laid in short witty quips and snide remarks, Otis preferred ranting. He saw himself as an artist: a revolutionary defying the chains of society. To most it was crazy talk, particularly his victims, but Tiff thought she understood. She was a firm believer that no desire was unnatural. Humans were no different from animals except for society’s strange obsession with repression. Looking for a reason why man was better than animal had led to all sorts of ridiculous ideologies: respectability, acceptability, God. Humans were no better than animals, they were worse. A deer wanted to fuck, it fucked; a wolf wanted to kill, it killed; a human wanted to indulge, it went to fucking confession. Sitting on Baby’s bed, head pressed to the poster of Bette Davis on the wall, Tiff strained her ears to make out the words Otis was saying. It appeared that the group of girls they had snatched from their post-grad road trip a few days earlier were of little help in regards to his artistic block. Biting her lip, Tiff wondered if she could be of any help. Purely out of respect for her new housemate, of course. Besides, if a deer wanted to fuck, it fucked—and Tiff would be damned if a goddamn deer got more out of life than she did.

With a huff she pulled herself to her feet, shuffling out of Baby’s room to the bathroom across the hall. Opening the cabinet she groaned, noting the empty spot on the shelf where the plan B usually was. Goddamn it. As nice as it would be to slide into Otis’ room and piss him off till she was passed out naked on his floor in front of some traumatized cheerleaders, he wasn’t particularly fond of pulling out. The singular time she had suggested he take some responsibility and wear a condom he had refused to fuck her cunt (though everywhere else was free game) for a week, insisting that was her only choice if she was so concerned about getting pregnant. It took some rather humiliating begging to earn that “privilege” back. Sighing she closed the cabinet and hopped up onto the counter, considering her options. She couldn’t go out and buy more, Baby had borrowed her truck. And besides, anytime Tiff went downstairs Mama roped Tiff into keeping her company. Tiff really didn’t mind, but moments alone were rare for her in the Firefly house, and she wasn’t in the mood to listen to Mama yap while she was sexually frustrated.

While she considered herself a patient person in some regards, dragging out her acquaintances with victims to make the kill all that more satisfying, sex was a different matter. When she wanted to fuck, she wanted to fuck, and there was rarely a shortage of willing participants. Groaning in frustration, she pushed herself off the counter, plodding back to Baby’s room and collapsing on the bed. Through the wall, Otis’ ranting was now punctuated with the occasional muffled scream. She closed her eyes, trying to relax as images of clean skin marred by blood and bruises filled her mind with each cry. She could picture Otis’ expression clear as day—the manic look in his eye, the way he sprayed spit in his excited rambling, the pent-up energy behind his muscles like a tiger ready to pounce. Fuck.

Giving in to the growing ache between her legs, Tiff tugged at the waistband of her shorts, yanking them off with her already dampening cotton panties. Through the walls one of the girl’s screams reached a sudden shrill crescendo, ungagged and unmuffled. Tiff allowed herself a moment to groan softly. One manicured finger traced lightly over her dripping cunt, circling her hole before traveling upwards to caress her clit. Otis was growling, shouting at the girl to shut up so he could concentrate. Tiff giggled, imagining the terror on the poor girl’s face. She slid a finger inside, then a second, the palm of her hand grinding against her clit. It felt nice, fingering herself roughly as Otis ranted through the wall, as victims screamed. It was positively vanilla compared to her usual methods of getting off. Each curl of her fingers brought her closer to the edge and yet no matter how close she got it felt so far away. Frustrated, she lifted her free hand to pull up her shirt, grabbing one tit and pinching the nipple forcefully, trying to elicit that sting of pain that would send her over the edge. Still, it wasn’t enough. With a frustrated whine she pulled harder, hips bucking.

“Damn!”

Tiff’s eyes shot open, hands stalling as Baby stared her down.

“Don’t stop on my account! I was enjoying the view,” she giggled, leaning against the doorframe. A slow smirk spread across Tiff’s face and she returned the laugh quietly.

“Well, duh,” she giggled, continuing to palm at her breast.

“Hell yeah girl, let’s see them titties!” Baby stepped into the room, closing the door behind her and leaning against it, biting her lip as her eyes raked over Tiff’s body. For a time, she continued to grope and finger herself, arching her back and making exaggerated faces to please her new audience. Still, the added exhibitionist thrill still wasn’t enough to send her over the edge. Frustration outweighing her desire to perform, Tiff groaned in frustration, releasing her hands to scrape along the bedsheets, putting like a spoilt teenager.

“Aww is Dolly having trouble?” Baby teased. She strutted across the room to loom over Tiff’s prostrate body.

“You wanna help me out, Baby?” Tiff sat up, dragging a slick-soaked finger across her plump lower lip, “I know you like to play with your dolls,”

“Oh, you know I do girly! I just thought you only played this particular game with Otis,” Baby shrugged off her coat, revealing her skimpy tank top and criminally low jeans.

“I’m out of plan-B and you know how Otis is,” Tiff shrugged, sitting up further so her face lingered just below Baby’s.

“Well, I’m not complaining! But if you want my help you gotta earn it,” Baby smirked sadistically.

“Well come on, Baby, you know I can take it!” Tiff smirked.

“Take that top off for me, Dolly, lemme see what I’m playing with,” she said, turning to rummage in one of her dressers. Tiff complied, too frustrated to play brat. Besides, unlike Otis, she couldn’t bait Baby into fucking her into submission for her own pleasure. If Otis was angry enough he’d fuck her just to get her to shut up (and if he got his rocks off in the process, all the better). Baby, on the other hand, would leave her high and dry the moment the game got boring or frustrating. Besides, it was just girls helping girls, not whatever weird obedience sex training thing Otis though he had going on (it absolutely wasn’t working, anyways).

When Baby turned around, several lengths of rope in hand, she saw Tiff waiting patiently on her bed, stark naked and eyeing Baby with interest. Giggling, Baby made her way across the room, looming over Tiff once more. With a mutter to “be good, Dolly,” Baby took one of her wrists, pushing Tiff back on the bed, connecting one pudgy wrist to the bedframe, then the other. Soon enough Baby’s doll was spread eagle on the bed, each limb tied with expert skill to the bedposts.

“Kinky,” Tiff teased, testing the strength of her bonds.

“Hardly,” Baby laughed, “I don’t know what Otis is complaining about, you’re such a good Dolly,”

“I play nice with you,” Tiff batted her lashes in mock-sweetness. Baby cooed appreciatively, beginning to strip her own clothing under her captive’s watchful eyes.

“That’s sweet, Dolly, but… I don’t know how to play nice,” she said, dropping her panties and moving to kneel on the bed. Before Tiff could respond, Baby had slung one leg over her head, lowering her full weight upon Tiff’s mouth. Tiff gasped immediately, barely inhaling any air before she was smothered in warm cunt. Immediately, Baby began humping her face. Somewhere beyond the hairy pussy and soft thighs that enveloped her head, Tiff could hear Baby grunting encouragement. The initial shock wearing off, Tiff opened her mouth, forcing her tongue upwards into Baby’s warm wet hole. Her efforts were immediately rewarded with an excited squeal, hands shooting down to grab her hair.

Tiff moaned against Baby’s cunt, her own cunt throbbing with need in the humid air of Baby’s room. Fingers tangled in her hair, sweat blossoming across tan skin as Tiff’s mouth was coated in slick. Baby’s high-pitched moans echoed through the room as her hips rutted desperately against Tiff’s mouth. Each thrust of her hips drove her weight further downwards, barely allowing Tiff a moment to breathe.

“Oh fuck!” Baby shrieked, his jittering as Tiff sucked her swollen clit, teeth grazing the sensitive nub. Tiff gasped for breath when she could, managing a great inhale that filled her mouth with Baby’s scent. Spurred on by the increase in volume, Tiff redoubled her effort until Baby came with a final violent jitter. She collapsed onto the bed, sliding off Tiff’s cum-soaked face. Both of their chests heaved, the room filled with the sound of heavy breathing. Eventually Baby began to giggle, looking down at the disheveled woman tied to her bed. Tiff looked back up at her.

“Damn! You know I was getting annoyed at walking in on Otis fucking your face all the time but like… I get it now.” Baby carded her fingers through her tangled hair.

“I’m the greatest lay you’ll ever have, Baby,” Tiff said with an exaggerated wink.

“You’re not a lay, you’re a dolly, Dolly. You’re fun to play with.”

“I feel like I should be insulted,” Tiff laughed.

“You’re not though, are you?” Baby teased, climbing to her feet, “you like being played with.” Tiff watched with anticipation as Baby dug in her drawers once more.

“I hope this is leading up to you returning the favor,” Tiff pouted, a hint of frustration seeping into her voice. Without the distraction of a cunt on her face it was getting harder to ignore the ache between her legs.

“Oh, I don’t do that honey, I don’t like the way it tastes,” Baby said, eliciting a frustrated noise from Tiff.

“But”—she continued, raising her hand triumphantly, having successfully found what she was looking for, “there are other things I can do to you.”

Tiff stared at her, or rather the unfairly large hot pink dildo grasped in her hand.

“Fuck!” She exclaimed, the sadistic glint in Baby’s eye making her shiver.

“Exactly, you’re fucked,” Baby said with relish, trailing off into a manic laugh. She returned to the bed, this time kneeling between Tiff’s spread legs.

“I dunno why but I thought you’d be shaved down here.” Baby reached out, threading her fingers through the patch of dark hair just over her dripping cunt. Tiff opened her mouth to reply but was interrupted as Baby yanked on it, making her cry out.

“I like it, gives me another way to hurt you down here. But you like that, don’t you?”

“You know I do,” Tiff panted.

“That’s because you tell me every detail of your disgusting sex life,” Baby said, releasing her hair before landing a slap across her exposed cunt.

“That’s only—oh fuck! Only because you ask,” Tiff cried out, words mingled with moans.

“You’re not just a fuck doll are you, Dolly? You’re a pain slut too.” Baby lined up the tip of the dildo with her entrance. Despite her wetness, the length and girth of the dildo, combined with an almost complete lack of prep meant it would take time to work it fully inside her. Or it would have, had Baby not put her full weight behind it. Tiff let out a guttural cry as she was violated painfully. Baby laughed. She began to forcefully fuck her, as fast and as hard as her arms would allow. Tiff found herself tugging at her bindings, body writhing beyond her control. She could take it rough, hard, and fast, yes—that was how she liked it—but the sudden and forceful intrusion had caught her off-guard. Her cries echoed through the small room, moans of pain and of pleasure mingling. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Tiff registered a banging on the wall and a disgruntled voice yelling at them to “shut up.”

That really wasn’t important, though. Not when her cunt was being jackhammered into with the violence she craved. Touching herself would never compare to the feeling of being left to the mercy of someone merciless. Almost reflexively she found herself forming words through her moans.

“Otis,” she cried, back arching as she neared a violent orgasm.

“Damn,” Baby giggled, watching her cry out, tugging on her bonds desperately.

“You got a problem, Dolly,” she continued as Tiff mewled Otis’ name once more, “gotta put you in rehab,”

Before Baby could continue her teasing tirade, the door banged open to reveal a disgruntled Otis hulking in the doorway.

“Would you two shut up?” he spat, eyes barely widening at the explicit scene before him, “I’m tryna work!”  

“So am I!” said baby teasingly, not slowing a moment. Tiff writhed, acutely aware of the fact that Otis was not looking at her. She pretended she was embarrassed. It was a rather humiliating predicament after all. The adopted siblings bickered for a moment longer before Otis scoffed, stepping into the room, and finally turning his attention to Tiff.

“And you…” he muttered, slouching over to her until he was standing by her head. She struggled in vain to keep a straight face while Baby redoubled her efforts.

“Don’t think I didn’t hear you moanin’ my name, slut.” He reached down, grabbing her face roughly.

“You’re a sick pervert, you know that?” he continued, a glint in his eye. Face twisting into a snarl he spat on her, a glob of spit spattering across her parted lips and flushed cheeks. Tiff came, hard. With a wanton moan she writhed against her bonds as Baby laughed at her, fucking her through her orgasm. Otis glared down at her until the spasms subsided, uncomfortably aware of the bulge growing in his own jeans. God dammit.

“Look what you did! He growled, “I gotta take care of this now,”

He began to stomp from the room, only pausing when Tiff let out a small squeak of protest.

“No. This,” Otis scowled, grabbing the crotch of his jeans, “only goes to doggies who ask for it,”

Tiff pouted as he left the room, his exit followed by the slamming of his own door and the terrified shrieking of one of his victims. Baby laughed as she cut Tiff’s bonds, leaving her hands free to yank the dildo out of her sore cunt and toss it across the room. Baby laughed harder. She knew she was acting like a petulant child but, “uhg, fuck him.”

“It’s pretty obvious you want to,” Baby teased. Tiff didn’t answer.

“Damn! He got you pussy-whipped!”

“He doesn’t have a pussy!”

“Well cock-whipped sounds weird. Sounds like he’s helicoptering it in your face or something,” Baby giggled at the mental image.

“Yeah I guess it does,” Tiff cracked a smile.

“There ya go!” Baby smiled, wrapping an arm around Tiff’s shoulder.

“Y’know, you might be in pretty deep, but I think he’s pretty pussy-whipped too,” Baby said, almost comfortingly.

“Really?” Tiff said, voice laced with deep skepticism.

“Come on, he was jealous! My brother would never turn down the chance to fuck some helpless tied-up bitch unless he had a reason,” Baby hopped to her feet, digging through her drawers for panties.

“He was obviously jealous and pouting like a little baby so he went off to pout with his other little whores-” as if on cue, one of the hostages in the other room shrieked.

“So, what? I should go suck his cock to make him feel better?”

“What? No! Are you crazy? Let him sulk, he needs to be taught a lesson anyways.” Baby tossed a pair of panties at Tiff, the silky white fabric smacking her in the face.

“The longer I make him wait, the meaner he’s gonna be,” Tiff said, sliding the panties on, the elastic cutting into her hips, “God, you’re tiny, Baby, my pussy can’t breathe in these,”

“You want him to be mean,” Baby smirked, reaching out and tugging on the waistband so it snapped back, stinging Tiff’s hip.

“Come on,” she continued, pulling on a pair of scandalously low leggings, “tomorrow he’s gonna expect you to go crawling back to him, begging him to fuck you or stab you or both or whatever,”

“God Baby you make me sound pathetic,”

“Only when Otis is around,” she shrugs “anyways. What we’re gonna do, is go shopping!”

“Shopping?” Tiff smiled, a hint of excitement in her voice.

“Yeah there’s this mall like an hour away and RJ refuses to drive me there but since you can drive we can go and buy you some panties that fit and leave Otis with his corpses. Stock up on your plan-B too huh?” Baby smiles, knowing she’s already victorious, “please Dolly?” It is the least sincere “please” Tiff has ever heard.

“You’re spoiled,”

“Come on I just spoiled you!”

“What? By sitting on my face?”

“You taking me to the mall or not?”

“Of course I am!”

“Yay!” Baby skipped out of the room, “come on let’s watch a movie.”

“I’m half-naked!” Tiff called after her.

“Everyone in this house has either already seen your tits or wants to see ‘em,” Baby re-enters the room, smacking Tiff’s boob. She watches it jiggle, mesmerized.

“No wonder we all call you Dolly, such fun to play with!” Tiff laughs, grabbing a tiny t-shirt off the floor and tugging it on.

“Better ‘Dolly’ than ‘bad dog’”

“Well you do keep doing things that piss him off,” Baby says, sitting at her vanity and kicking her feet absent-mindedly.

“Like going to the mall instead of stroking his ego?”

“Yeah! Like that.” The moment Tiff pulls on her shorts baby grabs her arm, “movie time!”