A Note from the author:
The following is a complete work of utterly ridiculous fiction.
This is an awful story, filled with awful people. You should not read it. If you do read it, you should not like it. If you like it, well, I'm sorry. There isn't really anything else to say.
***Last Chance***
In the history of unfortunate names, perhaps one of the most unfortunate was Holes. Though her parents insisted it was pronounced "Hawless," they knew from the start that nobody would actually pronounce it this way. It was intentional. Holes had the additional misfortune to be born to a pair of perverts, and to further add to the ordeal that would become her adult life, these perverts were of the surname Ferbonin. The woeful tale of Holes Ferbonin, though, did not begin with her unconventional naming. It began with an incident in the kitchen of the Most Almighty.
Prologue: My Father Who Art in the Kitchen
The day the Good Lord brought forth His Son into the celestial kitchen, a clumsy mistake would set the stage for the creation of a new life--ultimately, that of a young woman destined to become a plaything for all those around her.
"Just a pinch now, Jesus," Thundered The Lord, "sugar and spice, everything nice for the girl. Good. That's just enough. Now, a sprinkling of the stardust for the sparkle in the eyes. Yes. Good."
The iridescent dust fell from His Son's fingers, adding to the mixture that would form this new life.
"The captured nebulous gasses, next, if you please, Son." Said The Lord.
Jesus reached up to the higher shelf, pleased to have finally been allowed to assist His Father after so many millennia. Unfortunately, his newest pair of celestial sandals were taking some getting used to, and in one clumsy motion, this new life forming before them was forever altered. Jesus' foot slipped, just slightly, causing his robe to brush against the lower bottles of ingredients. Two of the bottles tottered, tipped, and fell, directly into the mixture.
The Lord gasped in horror as the contents in the bottles spilled forth.
"Sweet Jesus, Jesus!" The Lord boomed.
"Apologies, Holy Father!" Jesus said, aghast, "What...what was it? What have I done?"
"My entire bottles of Rape Magnet, as well as Ire of Man. We'll need to create at least a dozen new nebulas to replace those." The Holy Father said, shaking his head in dismay, "For any beautiful woman, even one grain of Rape Magnet is more than enough. I used two for Megan Fox, and even that was a bit much. A whole bottle, though...not even in the time of the 12 tribes, at my most sadistic, did I think to use so much."
"Shall we start over, Father?" His Son asked.
"No, no. I must admit to being curious about the result. It won't be an easy path for the poor creature, but she shall receive her reward in Heaven. Hand me that bottle of Eternal Lubricant. I think she's going to need it. And, the Gag Reduction powder, if you please."
Chapter 1: Cause for Celebration
Holes had been told that when she became an adult, things would be very different. Her parents hadn't gone into specifics about it, only that there were certain expectations of adults. She'd gone to bed with her stomach in knots, wondering what was going to happen, and awoken to a new set of rules.
Rather than being awakened by her alarm clock, Holes was roused by the sound of her mother puttering about her room, going through her drawers, and putting all of her underwear into a garbage bag.
"Mom? What's going on?" She asked, wiping sleep from her eyes.
"Oh, good morning, honey." Lacy replied, "Well, you're an adult now. Happy birthday, by the way. That means that there are going to be some changes, and that starts with how you're going to dress. Adults don't wear certain things, Holes. Panties. Bras. Those are for children."
"But," Holes argued, "that isn't fair! Everyone's going to see my...my..."
"Your cunt, yes. That's expected." Lacy stated, "And your tits, most likely."
Holes was aghast. Lacy opened her closet, and began to pile all of Holes' pants into the bag, as well.
"Second, skirts or short dresses only, from now on. No more pants. Pants are for kids, and not sexy little cock-teases."
"What?"
Lacy finished bagging Holes' old clothes, and gave her a kiss on the forehead, saying, "I'll do some shopping for you, and make sure you have lots of new clothes that are more appropriate. Go get ready for school."
She slung the bag over her shoulder and left the room.
The morning of Holes' 18th birthday was a cause for celebration. Not in the typical sense, in which a teenager legally becomes an adult, and feels excited about the possibilities that life might bring, but rather for everyone else around her. She'd awoken with a dripping pussy, which was actually quite normal. It was just the way she was. Her doctors had classified it as very healthy and active Batholin glands. Her overactive glands caused her to be wet, quite literally, all the time.
Holes showered and prepared herself for school, the usual sounds of her family also going through their morning routine, a background buzz of activity. In her room, she dressed in what was left of her clothes. Today, a white tank top, through which her hard nipples were quite apparent. Next, she donned a short, pleated pink skirt. No panties. Lastly, she strapped on a pair of wedge heels, the only type of shoes she now owned, and made her way downstairs.
Her mother was in the kitchen, half-nude in a slinky set of white lingerie. Her father, Chuck, was seated at the table, drinking coffee, reading from a tablet, and paying no mind to the fact that his son, Brandon, stood behind Holes' mother groping her ass. Holes stood at the entrance to the kitchen, mouth agape.
"Morning, Honey." Her father said, without looking up, "Happy Birthday."
"Thanks, dad." Holes replied woodenly, watching her brother molest his mother's backside.
"Big day today." He commented, "lots of folks will be by later tonight for your party!"
Before Holes could make a reply, her brother stopped molesting his mother's ass, and directed his attention to his sister.
"Birthday spankings!" he cried with glee, and was across the kitchen in a flash.
"Wait! No!" Holes argued, but a moment later she was bent over the table, her skirt hiked up.
"Holes," Her mother said, "It's not polite to tell men, no. Girls with wet cunts deserve to be spanked for being naughty."