Surrendering Sarah

Chapter 6

We spent the next day trying to put our life back together. Every piece of clothing we had was gone. I searched through stacks of cartons in the basement, finally finding an old T-shirt and shorts that had been used as cleaning rags. I looked like a vagrant, but they would have to do.

Sarah had nothing at all to wear, so my day would be spent shopping for clothes for the two of us. I scribbled some quick notes before I left to be sure I remembered her sizes, and what styles and colors she preferred.

"I have to have some tops with my new name on them, pink ones."

I froze and stared at her. She still looked dazed and confused.

"Sarah, what do you mean? You can't be serious."

"Rock said I should be proud of my new name. He wants me to show everyone how much I like it. He gave me this shopping list so Barbie can dress like a bimbo all the time. I need some T-shirts that say 'Barbie' across the front, in big letters, so everyone knows my new name. Get them a size too small, so my tits make the letters stand out more."

"Honey, there's a limit to what we can get away with. Even Rock must understand that. I can't let you humiliate yourself in public dressed like that. People we know will see you. What will you tell them?"

My reasoning seemed to reach her. Her expression changed, and the Sarah I knew began to cry.

"I don't know what I'm going to do! What will I say to our friends, or the people at work? Rock says I have to be 'Barbie the Bimbo' twenty- four hours a day, until he tells me I can stop. If I don't dress and act the way he wants, he'll hurt us, or worse. Look what his gang has done to our home! They left us with a few sticks of furniture and a cum-soaked bed. You don't know what he can be like. He's a psychopath, and his friends are even worse!"

Her sobbing echoed through the empty house.

"We'll find a way - I'll find a way out of this. I've had enough. I'll go to the police. He'll sit in prison for a long time for what he's done. It'll be OK. I promise."

"Oh fine! Then what will we do? Move? Find new jobs? Change our names? They'll find us eventually, wherever we try to hide. If it's not Rock, it'll be one of those maniacs he hangs out with. Don't you understand? We have no choice! If only you hadn't run over his bike!"

Her last words cut into me like a knife.

"I didn't run over his bike! I just touched it with the bumper! It barely moved!"

"Well it doesn't make much difference now, does it? I'm the one who's paying for it!"

"Oh, and I'm not? I just spent the night taped to a chair with my pants down while fifty bikers made jokes about the size of my dick!"

"You poor bastard! That's *much* worse than being fucked by fifty bikers, and having fifty more cum in your mouth! I feel *so* sorry for you! Just go out and get what I'm supposed to wear so I can play 'Barbie the Fucktoy' while you sit around and watch!"

I stormed out of the house, tears streaming down my face, and drove to the mall.

When I returned, Rock's now familiar bike was back in our driveway. It took two trips to carry the bags and packages from Victoria's Secret and Frederick's of Hollywood from my trunk to the front door. Rock's shopping list had been a long one. I had to take the T-shirts to a small kiosk in the middle of the mall to get the lettering applied. Rock's note was specific - three were to be labeled 'Barbie', three with 'Bimbo', and three more with 'Fucktoy', all in 4" flowery script. It was an embarrassing day.

I heard Rock chuckling from the bedroom, and reluctantly went to check on Sarah. He was lying on the bed, watching Sarah and a hard-bodied redhead locked in a deep kiss, as the hot water from the shower created a cloud of steam that swirled around them. They held each other tightly, tongues wrestling, hips grinding fiercely against each other. She pushed Sarah's face to her breasts, holding her there until she took the nipple in her mouth, moving her tongue over it until it hardened between her lips. She feasted hungrily on both breasts, fascinated with the pert mounds of velvety flesh.

"Sport, meet Betty. Looks like Barbie has a new best friend. I brought Betty along to help clean her up, but once they got in the shower, Barbie just couldn't keep her hands off her. Did you know she liked redheads?"

Sarah moved lower, her tongue trailing over Betty's belly in large, slow circles. Suddenly she stopped, looked up at her, and began to beg.

"Please, can Barbie eat your pussy? Can I lick it until you cum?"

Shaking badly, I took a step back, stumbled, and fell. Rock roared with laughter.

"What's the matter, Sport? You think the view's better down there? Just stay put. The show's just started!"

I sat on the floor, fearing what Betty's answer would bring.

"My little pet must be hungry. Isn't your tummy still full of cum from last night?"

"Barbie is Rock's fucktoy. He said I'm a much better cocksucker after last night. But Barbie needs practice eating pussy. I want to be a good pussyeater too. I want to be good at everything for Rock. Please let me lick your pussy. Barbie wants you to cum with her face in your pussy."

"Hmmm. I don't know. I don't usually let empty-headed bits of fluff like you anywhere near my pussy. But, because Rock's my man, and I always keep *my* men satisfied, I'll let you eat me, on one condition - that you make me cum. If you don't, so help me, I'll drag you out into the street and fuck your asshole with the biggest strap-on I can find. Well, what are you waiting for, you stupid little cunt - get started!"

Sarah buried her face between the redhead's legs, her tongue racing over her swollen labia and clit. Betty's eyes widened as her head fell back, her hands now stroking my wife's hair.

"Oh my God! Ohhhhh! Sweet Jesus! Rock, you really think she needs practice??? Mmmmm, pet, you have a tongue with a mind of its own."

Rock couldn't resist one of his sick jokes.

"It has to be natural talent, Babe. She's too much of a twit to have much of a mind anywhere else!"

It was sickening. Sarah licked and slurped at the redhead's cunt like she was possessed. The shower rained down on her as she worked, plastering her short hair against her head like a drowned rat. Betty fell back against the warm tile, now thrusting and grinding against Sarah's face. She pulled Sarah's head into her, holding her by the hair, until finally she came, thrashing and bucking against her battered face.

Rock broke into frantic applause.

"C'mon Sport. Give her a little credit! She finally found something she's good at! Give her a hand, now!"

I sat and clapped as Betty pulled Sarah to her feet, holding her obscenely in a long, wet kiss. Betty used the only towel to dry off, then threw it back into the wet shower. She took Sarah by the hand and brought her to us, dazed and soaking wet.

"Rock, I don't think she deserves the name 'Barbie'."

Sarah shot a terrified look at her.

"I think she should wear this for now."

She held up the tiny pink T-shirt that read 'Bimbo' across the front, then handed it to Sarah. Sarah pulled it over her head without question and stretched it over her damp breasts. The thin cotton revealed every detail of her nipples and clung to her belly like a second skin. Her firm B-cup breasts strained at the fabric, obscenely emphasizing the degrading nickname.

Rock liked what he saw, but was curious.

"Why not 'Barbie', Babe?"

"Look at her tits! Those aren't Barbie tits, *these* are Barbie tits!

She held a perfect C-cup breast in each hand and thrust them at us, grinning proudly.

"You're right again, Babe. I guess she is too small to be a 'Barbie'."

Sarah stared at Betty's tits with envy, now afraid of disappointing Rock, and losing her new name. Her lower lip trembled, and her eyes began to tear.

"You know what we have to do, don't you, Betty?"

She grinned back at Rock and nodded.

"Barbie, how would you like a new set of tits, just like Betty's?"

I jumped to my feet, heart pounding like a jackhammer.

"You can't do this! This has gone far enough!"

I took a step toward him, and met his fist with my face. My skull rang like a bell, and my nose spurted blood everywhere. I didn't even see the punch coming. The pain was excruciating.

He just stood over me for a while, shaking his hand lightly.

"Sorry Sport, but you gotta learn to behave yourself. Now Barbie, how would you like a pair of tits like Betty's? You'd look at lot more like a real Barbie. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

She was still staring at Betty's breasts. She nodded slowly, then looked back at Rock like a small, frightened animal.

"But, how, I mean, how would you make them bigger?"

"Now, how do bimbos usually make their tits bigger? You really are a clueless little bitch, aren't you!"

"You mean, make me have surgery? Please, Rock, I'll do anything at all for you, I mean anything, but don't make me do this. I hate hospitals. I've always thought women with implants were. . ."

"What? Bimbos? Barbie bimbos?"

"I guess so, something like that."

"Don't worry, we know a great doctor, the same one who did Betty's. It looked to me like you thought hers were good enough to eat a little while ago! You'll look great!"

Betty circled her, as though she was inspecting a piece of meat. She stopped in front of Sarah, playing with her breasts through the thin T-shirt.

"Hmmm. What do you think, Rock? Let's make 'em really huge. No use doin' it half-assed. She'd be a real cum magnet with a pair of double Ds!"

Sarah broke away from her and ran to Rock. She fell to her knees, unzipped his jeans, and slipped her hand inside.

"Please, Rock, don't do this to me! I'll be a freak! My breasts will be ruined! I'll suck you, Rock. I'll suck your big cock night and day, as often as you want. You and your friends can fuck me, too, in front of my husband if you want. I'll be your fucktoy. I won't even struggle or fight. I can be very sexy, Rock. You'll see. You can have me any way you like, and I'll make you believe I want more. I'll make my husband believe it too. He's jealous because you have such a big, thick cock. I can make him even more jealous, Rock, if that's what you want. Just please, pleeease, don't turn me into a freak!!"

She freed his erection and milked it slowly with both hands. Then, turning him to give me a better view, she sealed her lips around the pulsing, rubbery head, all the while keeping her eyes on me. She ran her tongue along the soft underside of the big cock filling her mouth. Drool oozed from around her mouth and dripped onto her breasts, darkening the bright pink material stretched over her hard nipples.

He let her finish. She moaned loudly as he shot stream after stream of thick, salty cum into her waiting mouth. I watched in horror as her fingers dug deeper into his ass, her throat welcoming every drop of his slimy seed.

Afterward she cleaned him. Her tongue traced every contour of his cock, leaving it shining with her saliva, her eyes locked on mine as she licked and slurped. This wasn't my wife; it was someone, no, something else.

Rock grabbed her hair and pulled her to her feet. He eyed her breasts, still trapped behind the drool and cum-soaked 'Bimbo' on the skin-tight T-shirt.

"Don't worry your empty little head, Barbie. I think a nice large C-cup is just the ticket. I never was a tit man. More than a handful is a waste anyway. Betty, get her some pants. We have an appointment with the doctor."

Betty retrieved a tiny, white pair of shorts from one of the shopping bags. She offered them to Sarah with a lecherous grin.

"Here you go, Honey. Wrap your pussy in these and lets get going!"

Sarah squeezed into them, but was barely able to stretch them over her hips. They left most of her firm ass *******. The thin material instantly slipped into the slit between her legs, molding and separating her meaty labia for all to enjoy. She might as well have been naked.

They dragged her kicking and screaming from the house. My guts churned as I heard her promise Rock more sickening acts of perversion than I could have imagined. Then, in an instant, she was gone, sandwiched between them on Rock's bike.

I don't remember much about the hour that followed, or the salesman that took my money without question. I sat in the basement, stared at the package for a long time, and finally unwrapped it. It was surprisingly light in my hand. I saw Rock's face, the way it looked the first time he entered our lives, even then grinning like he owned us. Then, I imagined that grin fading, as I pulled the trigger of the empty 9mm over and over and over.