Secret Message Pt 02

When Kathy next emerged from the spiral, it was mid-morning, and she knew the third "secret message".

"MEN KNOW BEST", she typed into the text box, and the app excitedly congratulated her on another success.

"You have won one-third of a breast enhancement!" it told her. "Find two more messages to make those melons swell!"

She furrowed her brow. She didn't *want* a boob job - although she appreciated that the full cost of breast surgery was a significantly bigger prize than her last two winnings. Maybe if she won it, she could on-sell it to someone else.

Kathy had awoken on the floor of her lounge room. There was a plate and a glass near her - apparently she had once again fed herself during her trance. The curtains to the front yard were wide open, and Kathy blushed as she realised anyone walking by would be able to see her naked body.

The front door was open, too. Had Kathy gone outside during her trance? Had someone come in?

She knew that a normal reaction to this would be to close the blinds, close the door - and then throw her phone away and never look at the spiral again. But Kathy found herself curiously unwilling to secure her house - and instead she moved behind the lounge room sofa, where she would be out of sight of the window, and looked at her phone again.

Part of her wanted to go back into the spiral, and lose herself once again in the words. But she saw she had five messages on her phone, so she checked to see what they were.

They were all from Mitch - and Kathy blushed as she remembered how last night she had sent Mitch a nude photo of herself, with a carrot stuffed in her cunt. (Where was the carrot now? Had she... had she eaten it? Had she licked her own pussy juices off it, and then eaten it? Confusing memories suggested that maybe she had.)

The messages read, in order:

* WTF did you mean to send me this?

* You look like a fuckpig. You should be disgusted with yourself.

* Pinch your clit so it hurts, you stupid slut.

* Are you there Kathy?

* Stay there, I'm coming over to check on you.

Kathy stared at the messages, and moaned.

"Men know best," she heard herself whisper. "I am a slut. I need to obey."

She knew Mitch hadn't told her to pinch her clit. Or at least she thought she did. It was the app, probably - pretending to be her friend. But was it also the app who had said she was a fuckpig? Or was that Mitch's reaction?

Or maybe Mitch *had* asked for a nude last night, and it was the surprised "WTF" that was the app fucking with her mind. Maybe Mitch *did* want her to pinch her clit. Maybe he was delighting in discovering what a little whore she had suddenly become.

It didn't matter. Mitch knew best. She had to obey. She pinched her clitoris, hard, so that it hurt, and moaned as she did so.

How long did she have to do this for? When could she stop?

She could stop when Mitch got here, obviously. If he allowed her to. It hurt - it hurt *a lot* but she deserved it. She was a fuckpig. Mitch had said that, and Mitch knew best. She should be disgusted with herself.

The pain was making her even wetter. She couldn't think straight. She couldn't concentrate.

She pulled up the app, and went back into the spiral.

===

Mitch was there. Mitch was kneeling beside her. Mitch was shaking her. Mitch had removed the headphones.

"Kathy, are you okay?" he was asking. "What's happened to you?"

Kathy was confused. "How did you get here?" she asked.

"The door was open," said Mitch. "You sent me that photo, and then you didn't answer. I thought - I don't know what I thought..."

Kathy was naked, and she was still pinching her clit, even as Mitch spoke to her.

"Please, can I stop pinching myself?" she begged.

"What?" asked Mitch. "Oh - of course. Jeez, Kathy, what's going on with you?"

She tried to think. She had been so close to new words - to a new phrase. What had it been?

Suddenly, she knew. It had been tricky because it had been a *shifting* phrase. Just as the word "GIRL" had also been the word "SLUT", this phrase had had several hidden meanings within it.

She grabbed her phone, and typed in, "I NEED MEN TO CUM IN ME". But of course, the word "IN" had also been "ON" - "I NEED MEN TO CUM ON ME". And beneath that had been another idea - "I LOOK PRETTY WHEN MEN CUM ON ME".

And she did. She knew she did. The reason the photo that she had sent to Mitch had been disgusting was not that she was naked and fucking herself with a carrot. No, it had been disgusting because there was no cum on her face and tits. What was the point of a slut who nobody had ejaculated over?

Part of her mind rebelled at this thought. Part of her mind screamed at her that she *wasn't* a slut - that something was terribly wrong, that she had become addicted to the spiral, that it was changing her. But it felt like words playing on a TV screen, spoken to someone else, partially obscured by a haze of static. They didn't matter.

On her phone, the screen was telling her she'd won the second of the three prizes that would grant her a boob job, but she didn't see it. She was looking up at Mitch.

"I need men to cum in me," she said, out loud, unable to stop herself.

Mitch looked even more shocked - but she saw the shape of his cock stiffening in the crotch of his pants.

"You mean... you want to have sex?" he asked.

Kathy didn't want to have sex. She didn't like Mitch that way. He was just a friend. And yet - her pussy was wet, and there was that overpowering need. She needed a man to cum in her.

So she just nodded, and spread her legs.

Mitch needed no further encouragement. He took a moment to close the front door, and draw the curtains, and then he was undressing, pulling off his shirt, kicking off his shoes and socks, and letting his pants and underwear drop to the ground. He knelt between her legs, and then he was leaning forward, letting his cock slip between her wet pussy lips, filling her fucktunnel with its girth. Kathy moaned again as he began to thrust, fucking his penis deep up inside her.

It was only once he had penetrated her and settled into a rhythm that Mitch asked any further questions.

"What's brought on this change of attitude?" he asked her as he fucked her.

"There's an app," said Kathy. "It has a spiral in it - I think it's hypnotising me, Mitch. I can't control myself. It's addictive, and it's making me do things - making me fuck you."

"You don't feel like you're being forced," said Mitch - and he was right. Kathy was bucking her hips against him, desperate to make him spurt his cum up into her womb.

Kathy blushed, and said, "Please - take my phone away from me. Keep me away from the computer. It's messing with my head, Mitch. I don't know how to stop. I just put on my headphones, and look at my phone, and everything just - goes away."

"This app is making you sluttier?" asked Mitch. "So you can't stop yourself from being a sexy little whore?" He slammed his cock into her forcefully. This talk seemed to be making him even harder - she could feel him flexing inside her.

"Yes," she said. "Please, help me, Mitch. The app is bad for me. Help me to stop."

Mitch paused, his cock half-in and half-out of her pussy, thinking. Then he laughed.

"I don't think it's bad for you, Kathy," he said. "I think it's actually quite good for you. I like this version of you better." He picked up her headphones. "Here, put these back on."

"No!" protested Kathy, and tried to push his hands away - but he said, "Stop, let me do this," and Kathy felt her will to fight draining. Men knew best.

She felt a tear welling in the corner of her eye as he passed her the phone. Unable to stop herself, she loaded the app, and watched the spiral and the static form.

"Good little slut," whispered Mitch, as he resumed fucking her cunt - but Kathy couldn't tell if it was Mitch speaking, or a voice in her headphones. "Go back into your app," he continued, "and keep learning to be a good little fuckpig..."

===

When she next became aware of her surroundings, she was on all fours, and still naked. She guessed by the light it must be mid-afternoon. There was still a cock in her pussy, thrusting repetitively into her fuckhole, and she could see Mitch standing some distance away, still naked, pointing a phone at her. Filming her.

It took her a moment to panic. If she could see Mitch in front of her, whose cock was in her pussy?

A voice from behind her said, "Oh, shit! I think she's waking up!"

Kathy started to struggle. Hands grabbed her hips, holding her in place, and Mitch hurried over and knelt in front of her.

"Be still, Kathy," he said. "Be a good little fuckpet for my friend. Remember what we discussed? You need to obey. Men know best."

She moaned. He was right. She wanted to do what he said. She stopped struggling and let the anonymous cock keep fucking her pussy.

"There's a good girl," said Mitch - and then he pushed his cock towards her lips, and Kathy submissively opened up and took it into her mouth. Once her mouth was plugged with Mitch's dick, there was no further option to turn around and see who was raping her.

"All those things she said in the trance were real?" asked the voice from behind her. "She's, like, programmed to obey men?"

"I think so," said Mitch. "Otherwise I don't know why she'd be putting up with this. I wonder if she learned anything new while she was under just now."

Kathy felt frustrated, because she hadn't. Either she hadn't had enough time to look at the spiral, or she was too stupid to work it out, because the words hadn't quite resolved in her mind. She needed to go back in - but she could hardly stare at her phone while she was sucking Mitch's cock.

She became aware that her face was wet, and suddenly realised there was sperm on it. Someone had ejaculated on her while she had been in her trance. On her tits, too. A part of her felt outraged and violated - but another part glowed with sudden happiness. She was prettier with cum on her, after all.

Soon, the anonymous man who was fucking her pussy reached his climax, and she felt him spurt his cum up inside her. She orgasmed too, in response to the feeling of being inseminated. Shortly afterwards, Mitch came in her mouth, and that gave her another orgasm.

"Keep your eyes on me, Kathy," said Mitch, as the man pulled out of her pussy, and Kathy did as she was told. Behind her, the man stood, and dressed, said, "Bye, Mitch. That was great - I'll catch you around" - and then left.

And Kathy realised she would never know who had fucked her, and that it could be any man she met, and she would always have to wonder.

She looked at Mitch, wondering if he was leaving too - but he had other plans.

"I'm pretty convinced that this isn't just an act," said Mitch, "so I've invited another couple of friends around to enjoy you tonight. We'll sit on your couch and watch a movie, and you can serve us dinner and drinks and then service our cocks. Does that sound good, Kathy?"

"No!" wailed Kathy. "Mitch, I don't want to do this. Why won't you help me stop?"

"Because you were always a boring little cow," said Mitch, "and whatever this app is doing to you is making you far more interesting. A pair of tits like those, and a cunt as tight as yours, were clearly made for being fucked, don't you think?"

Men knew best. "Yes," said Kathy quietly, defeated.

"There's a good girl," said Mitch, ruffling her hair as if she were a child or a pet. "Now, why don't you pop down the store and buy some drinks and snacks for my friends? If you're fast enough, you'll have some time to spend in your spiral before our guests arrive."

"Yes, Mitch," said Kathy. She needed to obey. She stood, and started looking around for her clothes.

"Oh, no," laughed Mitch. "I don't think you need any clothes. A slut like you doesn't deserve clothes, do you?"

Men knew best. "No," said Kathy, weakly, feeling like she might cry. He couldn't be serious - he wasn't really going to make her walk to the shops naked, with cum on her face, was he?

But he was. He smiled, and laughed, and gave her a handful of bills - maybe $100 in total. It made her feel like a whore.

"There's a good girl," he said. "Hurry back - and remember to ask the cashier if you look pretty."

His laughter followed her all the way to the door, and out into her first taste of humiliating public exposure on the street.

(TO BE CONTINUED)