Well, since it bothers some people, just know that this has futanari in it.
Mind, given the themes I explore in this chapter, I do believe that particular feature is the LEAST of worries.
So, remember what I said last time? That THE word for this piece was loving Masochism? I put the seeds for that in the first Chapter.
And in this one? In this one...I show you what has blossomed. These are the sights I have to show you.
(Kinks: Masochism, BDSM, Rubber Dolling, incest, pregnancy, Body transformation)
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"Right, so-" Desiré's mother nervously began, "You are our slave now."
"Huh-uh," Desirée happily said as she divided the copies among themselves. One would go to her futa mother, another to her birth mother, another would go to the state and the last one would, technically, stay with her.
She put it in the briefcase that she had brought and closed, sure that this would be the last time she would ever see it.
"And we can do whatever we want, right?" Jean hesitated to say, but Desirée could hear the eagerness in her voice all the same.
In response, Desirée walked around the table and took her sire's hand.
She raised it a foot from her face and smiled at her sire.
"Do it," She told her as she let her hand go.
Again, Jean hesitated...but just for a second.
The next second a "slap" resounded as she struck her daughter in the face.
"See?" Desirée sighed contently as she put a loving hand on her now stinging cheek, "I could call the cops or the government and nothing would happen."
"..holy shit," Jean said as she stared at her hand. "Holy fucking shit. Like...fucking shit."
She was trembling, sweat going down her brow as the reality of their situation finally settled in.
"We own you.." Shawna said with awe as she stared at her wife's hand. Gingerly, she raised her own hand at her daughter and Desirée obediently presented her other cheek.
The sound of flesh hitting flesh sounded again and Shawna gasped as she withdrew her hand.
"It stings," She giggled as she looked at the reddened flesh in her daughter's cheek.
"It does!" Desirée giggled with her.
"...you know how we planned on one or maybe two children?" Jean casually mentioned to her wife.
"Ye-oh, I see what you mean!" Shawna responded as she blatantly and visibly oogled Desirée like a piece of meat. Desirée for her part flushed, but not with embarrassment; She could do with some incestual fucking but...no, not just yet.
This was, after all, far, far too mild for it to truly be heaven.
"Um, ma and ma, is that it though?" Desirée asked.
"What do you mean? We are going to knock you up year after year," Jean eagerly said as her hand reached out and cupped Desirée's face, "You'll have your boyfriend, heck maybe someday he'll be your husband, and your friends, but you'll just be a baby factory to us."
"And you know, a 'stress relief' bag too," Shawna giggled again as she threw a slap at her daughter's shoulder.
And that was good...but Desirée had gazed into her parent's hungers and knew them to still be restrained.
"Yeah, ok but.." Desirée bit her lips as had to climb the next wall in her ideal life, "Don't you want more?"
Her parents were quiet at that.
"...what do you mean more?" Jean reservedly asked, and Desirée had to roll her eyes at her futa mother trying to not scare her.
"Ok, it's like this," The 18 year old said, "You can't sell me and you can't profit off of me. I have to appear in public every 9 months for transparency's sake, and I have to be able to communicate no matter what you do to me in case an inquiry is made by the state."
"Other than that? Anything else can be signed away IF the right forms are made." She said, "And I did just that. Given that I personally made this contract, no one will fight it."
"So, knowing that you can do anything to me...what is the most depraved thing you can think of?" Desirée asked her parents.
They just stared at her for a few moments before they looked at each other.
"Anything?" Shawna asked as if she had heard wrong.
"Anything," Desirée replied and, for the first and last time, hesitated, "...including death."
Their parent's breath stopped.
"Are you...are you sure honey? I was only exaggerating before, but-" Her sire said, concern deep in her voice.
"-There is an euthanasia clause in there," Desirée gestured at the contract, "Made wide enough that if you stuck a knife in me right now...it would still hold in court."
"Holy shit," Her mother whispered as she put a hand to her mouth, "Honey..."
"I know," Jean responded, putting a calming hand on her, "Desirée, love, we are not going to kill you."
"I told you mom," Desirée shook her head, "So long as you make it go-"
"No," Jean said again, this time more firmly.
A part of Desirée was disappointed.
But another part was stocked by the authority that her futa mother now displayed over her.
"Okay," Desirée agreed like an obedient slave.
"But then," Desirée began again, "What is the worst thing you can think of?"
Long seconds stretched out as her parents fought with their emotions, the depravity they had long held in check finally struggling to break their chains.
"A prisoner," Jean blurted out, "Someone who only exists in our basement. Someone we keep locked up."
Desirée's turned into an "O" as the concept of being locked up forever went through her mind.
It was so horrible that it made her pussy wet.
"I-in latex!" Shawna eagerly added, "Oh, we'll dress you up and make you look good."
"Not chains?" Jean asked.
"So dirty and ugly," Her wife wiggled her nose, "No, we'll make her a beautiful sexy prison!"
Now, this was starting to sound heavenly!
But still...
"Is that it?" Desirée asked again and her parents stopped once again.
"We..can make changes to her body," Jean murmured, "Can't we?"
"So long as I can still communicate somehow," Desirée told her sire, "You can make any change."