AnnouncementContent warningThis chapter gets downright brutal. The bad stuff begins right at the start. If you have triggers, reading the content warning is a good idea.
SpoilerRape, identity death, misgendering, deadnaming, pseudo-incest, religious abuse
[colpse]
ten
[9 march 2024]=-=[saturday]=-=(0803)
“And in those days people will seek death but they will not find it; they will long to die, but death will flee from them,” Jason says as he brutalizes the girl, the spitting image of his wayward, willful daughter.
He wasn’t always a girl, of course. However, he had the misfortune of looking like what Jason’s daughter would look like as a boy, in his eyes. So, he kidnapped the boy and forcibly had him transformed into a girl, right down to forcing full bottom surgery on him. He had another name before, but all he calls him now is Tiffany. He is locked away in a basement room that painstakingly copies the configuration and décor of Zell’s old room at the house the Levins fled from after kidnapping Joy.
“Please stop!” the boy cries through tears.
“Silence, you wicked, sinful girl!” Jason shouts as he sps the boy across the face, before entering him again. “I will purge the devil’s wickedness from you, you will know your pce and obey your betters!” He hasn’t bothered with the same type of brainwashing he did to Joy, instead choosing corrective rape and mind-altering drugs as his weapons of choice with this boy. It hasn’t worked as well, nor was he expecting it to. The cruelty is the entire point with these acts. The more he abuses this boy, the more he feels he is getting back at his own daughter for her insolence.
“I’m not a girl!” the transformed boy cries again. “My name is…”
Another sp echoes through the room. “Do not lie to your father, Tiffany, and do not talk back!” Jason says as he forces his way into him harshly. “A woman must learn in quietness and full submissiveness…” He releases his seed into the transformed boy’s neovagina and growls at him. “...And learn, you shall…” After withdrawing from the boy, he kicks him in the gut, knocking the wind out of him and making him fall to his knees. “I will return ter. Perhaps by then, Lord willing, you will finally understand your pce.” He cleans up, then pulls up his pants and turns and walks out of the room, locking the cell door behind him.
“...My name is Evan…” the boy says defiantly as the door shuts. “I’m not a girl… I’m not…” he weakly protests as he curls up on the floor, naked, as Jason’s semen leaks out of him. Invasive thoughts start to go through his head. Maybe if you were, the abuse would stop. Would being his daughter really be so bad? I… I could be Tiffany… no… no!
No, it would be worse! If he’s willing to commit these obscenities to someone who only looks like his daughter, imagine what he could have been doing to the real thing. No wonder she escaped.
The drugs are having an effect, though. Combined with the castration, Evan’s ability to be aggressive has been reduced to nothing. He can’t focus enough to ponder escape. It’s all he can do to fight the urges to be compliant and docile like Jason wants. To be the girl he wants him to be. The daughter he wants him to be.
...Can I even be anything else at this point?
Jason leaves the dungeon and walks down the corridor to the surface. This pce was a find, a World War II-era safehouse in eastern Europe that he was able to desecrate and twist for his purposes. A house of safety for those fleeing persecution, turned into a prison, a house of torture. It already had a secret basement built in, he just had to modernize it and convert the rooms into dungeons. It’s not as expansive as the compound he left behind, but it did have the advantage of being in a country that regurly refused extradition requests despite having a treaty with the USA. The fact that he found an American college student that looked literally like a genderswap of his daughter was absolute luck on his part.
As he reaches the ground floor, his bodyguard is waiting for him, dragging along a teenage girl, or what looks like one, wearing a colr and leash, and emotionally looking completely numb. “Ah, Xander. I see you have a new toy.”
“I needed a new one after breaking Nick to the point where he was a complete gibbering mess,” he says. “This is Joe. Say hello, Joe.”
The “girl” curtsies almost mechanically. “Pleased to meet you, Sir.”
“Well-mannered,” Jason says, admiring Xander’s handiwork. “How long did it take you to break him?”
“Only two weeks,” Xander says. “Most boys break almost instantly once you take their balls and give them tits. How’s your project?”
“Stubborn and willful, but I’ll break her yet,” Jason says. “She’ll come around to her pce in life in time.
Xander smiles knowingly. “You’ll break her. You’ll have your daughter back and better than ever. I know it.”
Jason nods. “Were you followed?”
“No, but not for ck of trying,” Xander says. “Someone keeps trying to break into my phone. It’s frustrating. If I ever find the script kiddiot behind it, I’m going to give Joe a sibling.”
“It has to be connected to Jourgensen,” Jason says. “I have no doubt he’s trying to use his technical prowess to get back at us for what we did to that unworthy brat of his. It’s a pity he doesn’t have another child for us to take to really drive the message home. Perhaps we should take his wife and turn her into a depraved sex-crazed harlot.”
“Speaking of Jourgensen’s brat, did you hear about Roderick?” Xander asks as he pulls Joe along like a reluctant pet. “His compound caught fire. He’s dead.”
“Really? He must have pissed off the wrong people…” Jason says. “Ah, well. There are plenty of other buyers out there for our products.”
“Yes, indeed. I already have a couple of potential buyers bidding against each other for my Nick,” Xander says. “Even broken, he can still fetch six figures.”
“Very good,” Jason says.
--={@~~~@}=--
[11 march 2024]=-=[monday]=-=(1342)
Joshua Callis walks into Benjamin Stark’s office. He’s a six foot tall curly redhead with fair skin, a deceptively slight build and a personal aura that just radiates sleaze. “Ben! I thought you were out, too good for us.”
“No, it was never like that,” Benjamin says. “I just needed time to process things after Kacey… but yeah, I couldn’t stay away for long.”
“Nice. So did you call me because you need to retain our services again?” Joshua asks.
“Yes and no,” Benjamin says, hitting his intercom. “Stacy, would you bring in Amy?”
A rather attractive secretary walks into the office a few moments ter with a woman in tow, one with a blonde pixie cut, wearing a flowing knee-length flower dress.
“Good to see you, as always, Stace,” Joshua says. “So what’s the story here?”
“Amy applied for a job with my firm, but… I think her qualifications are more suited to you,” Benjamin says, as he motions for Stacy to leave. “She’s rather new to all of this. I don’t think her qualifications are up to par to be a paralegal here, but she might be perfect for your pursuits. She has a bit of a history as a coder.” Among this group, “coder” is sng for an actual trans girl, due to how much of a proportion of them turn out to be programmers and coders, versus the general popution.
“Oh, interesting,” Joshua says. He seems interested. “I assume there’s going to be a finder’s fee?” The two are talking as if Joshua is going to give her a job, but it’s code. They’re negotiating a sale.
“The usual would be sufficient,” Benjamin says. “She is good at what she does, it’s just that it’s not what I’m in the market for, you understand?”
“I’ll wire it to you,” Joshua says. He turns to Amy, who is actually Morgan in disguise, under a fake identity. “So, you’re a trans girl then?”
“Y-yeah…” Morgan says, feigning fear. “I’ve gotten as far as I can on my own, but… getting impnts wiped me out. I talked with some friends, and they got me in touch with Mr. Stark. I guess you’re going to help me along?”
“Something like that, dear.” Joshua turns back to Benjamin. “Yep, she’s perfect for the opening,” he says. “I’ll take her off your hands, you’ll have the finder’s fee in the morning.”
“Sounds good,” Benjamin says.
“Amy, dear, why don’t you come with me and we can discuss your qualifications at Starscape?” Joshua asks, though it’s clear he isn’t actually asking.
“...Yes, sir…” Morgan turns and follows Joshua out of the room, and eventually the building. They go to his car, a stretch Hummer. It must pay good to be a human trafficker and overall perverted being. The door is opened and Joshua signals for her to go in first.
She does so. She’s not entirely worried, though she pys it well. She has another subcutaneous GPS tracker in her body so Kelly’s military contractors can keep track of her.
But things start to go pear-shaped almost immediately. Back at the Jourgensen compound, Hansen is keeping track of the GPS signal. It’s loud and clear until the door of the stretch Hummer is shut. It’s shielded against certain electronic signals, including GPS.
Then it gets worse. As Morgan sits in the middle of the rear seat, Joshua drugs her. “Huh… wha…?” The world spins a few times before everything goes bck.
--={@~~~@}=--
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Morgan has no idea where she is, or how long she has been out. They must have dosed her with some heavy-duty sedatives, the effects of which are still lingering, because she knows she should be freaking the everloving fuck out right now. All she wants to do is rex. It would be so easy to rex and let whatever’s going to happen, happen.
But Morgan has never been the one to take the easy way. She tries to get up.
She suddenly feels electricity arc through her body, centered on her neck, and she screams. She raises a hand to it and finds a heavy colr with a heavy lock and what feels like electrodes on the inside. There’s a battery attached to it via a chain, which also serves as a conductive element.
“Try to get up again and the next one will make sure you never can,” a man’s voice says over a loudspeaker in the room. “Who are you, boy?”
Morgan looks down at herself. She’s naked, save for the colr. Everything’s on dispy. Whoever has her knows exactly what she is and is trying to twist the verbal knife. “My name is Amy—eeeeeeeeeAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!” She screams as the colr zaps her again.
“Keep lying to me and you won’t st the hour. Who are you, boy?”
“I’m not a boy!” Morgan shouts, defiantly.
“Liar,” the voice says. “Lie to me all you like, but don’t lie before God. That shriveled dangly bit between your legs says you’re a boy. Last chance. Who are you?”
“Go fuck yourself!” Morgan shouts, before the colr cuts off any further protests and shocks her into unconsciousness.
--={@~~~@}=--
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Morgan awakens, strapped to a heavy chair. She still has no idea how long it has been. She can’t move. She feels things stuck to her still-naked body. More electrodes. Her head feels loopy. They must have drugged her again, though she has no idea what they used.
“He’s awake…” a man nearby says. He looks bookish, and he’s working what looks like a polygraph machine.
“No more lies,” says a man shrouded in shadows, standing against a bright light. “Begin the test.”
The bookish man nods. “We’ll start with a few baseline questions. Is your name Anthony Bailey?”
Morgan feels mentally sluggish. “No.” Who the hell is that?
“Have you ever served in the armed forces?” the tester asks.
“Yes.” Morgan can’t stay silent. She’s been dosed with something, that much is clear.
“Is your name Morgan?”
“Yes.” No! I can’t stop myself from answering...
“Do you work for Gary Jourgensen?”
“No.” Goddamn it, stop already...
“Did you kill Roderick Javier?”
“Yes.”
“Do you consider yourself male?”
“No.”
The technician turns back to the man standing against the light. “He appears to be telling the truth."
Stop fucking referring to me like that, I’m a girl…
“And yet we know some of these statements to be lies,” the other man says. “DNA doesn’t lie, Anthony.”
“...I don’t know who that is…” Morgan says in a drone-like tone.
“Increase his truth serum dosage,” the man in shadow says.
Truth serum? Is that why I can’t stop myself from giving up this info?
“It’s possible that he truly believes what he’s saying is the truth,” the technician says. “He could be a true believer; he could have been brainwashed.”
“Even so, we know everything about you, boy,” the man says. “We know who you were, who you are, and what you’ve done. Did you really think you could insert yourself into our operation without us knowing about you? What did you even hope to accomplish?”
Please no, I don’t want to answer… “I was remade to kill Jason Levin.”
There is silence for a moment. “...I knew it. I made a mistake leaving the Jourgensen boy alive. I had hoped that proverbially rubbing his nose in it would break him. Yet you said… you said that you didn’t work for Gary Jourgensen. Who do you work for, then?”
No, no, no, no, please, for the love of… “Kelly Jourgensen.”
“...His wife. Of course. She’s trying to be a mama bear, getting revenge for her precious little Stefan,” the man says. “I see. You might prove to be useful after all… just not how you or Mrs. Jourgensen would have ever hoped. I believe you should experience everything that filthy boy Stefan experienced.” The man steps forward, his body becoming visible as the shadows melt away.
“You’re not going to kill me today, or ever, Anthony. But you will serve me.”
--={@~~~@}=--
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Morgan awakens again after being drugged. She’s strapped into another chair. She can feel heavy headphones covering her ears, and no other covering on her body. She’s still naked. Not this again… she thinks, only this time it’s aiming for a completely different outcome. Kelly was trying to mold her into an assassin. She has no idea what Jason has in store for her, but if it’s anything like Joy endured at his hands, it’s not going to be a good ending. She tries to force her way out of the chair, only to get shocked by the colr, as well as several dozen smaller electrodes taped to her body. She tries to scream, but she is gagged tightly. She looks around, refusing to give in, though she doesn’t see any way out of this.
--={@~~~@}=--
[19 march 2024]=-=[tuesday]=-=(0757)
Hansen has been watching the monitors, looking for any sign of Morgan’s GPS tracker coming online, any hint to her whereabouts at all.
There were no leads. After Morgan’s signal disappeared, Benjamin Stark disappeared, only for his body to be found in a river a couple of days ter. His usefulness to the traffickers had ended, it seemed. They must have gotten wise to the trick with the tracker somehow, but how? Unless… unless there was a leak somewhere, perhaps one of the other contractors was getting info to their adversaries somehow.
“Come on… you’ve got to be somewhere…” Hansen says, nursing a rge thermos of coffee.
Suddenly, for an instant, there’s a signal. “Shit… I’ve got it!” she says as she manages to find the location as it blips out. She has no way of knowing it, but the severe degree to which Morgan was electrocuted managed to overload the signal of the GPS tracker – in essence, supercharging it enough to transmit through materials it should have been unable to transmit through.
The bad news, however, is the location itself. It’s deep in eastern Europe, in one of the countries that used to be behind the Iron Curtain and hasn’t really managed to rejoin the world since it fell.
It’s going to take some doing to get contractors on the ground.
--={@~~~@}=--
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Morgan awakes in quite possibly the most girly prison cell in existence. She shuts her eyes and rubs her temples. She still feels like herself… for now, anyway. But she has no way of knowing what Levin has in store for her, or what he may have already done, as she was drugged the moment the brainwashing started, and she bcked out. She has to try to find a way out, but… she checks. That damned colr is still there. She’s still naked, as well. There’s no way there aren’t cameras in this cell.
She’s going to kill them all if she can just get free, she decides.
It’s at that point, that she realizes she’s not alone in here. There’s a girl sitting at a nearby vanity. She looks familiar. “Are…” she starts to try to say, worried she’s going to be shocked again… but this time there’s nothing from the colr. “Are you a prisoner here too?”
The girl turns around. She’s wearing a traditional dress, one that wouldn’t be out of pce in a 1950s TV show, and she looks every bit like a tradwife in training. “Oh, heavens no,” she says, smiling… but the smile seems forced somehow. “Daddy wouldn’t keep me prisoner.”
That… can’t be right, Morgan thinks. “‘Daddy?’” she asks. “But he only had the one child, and ae got away…”
“Nonsense, I’m right here, you silly girl,” the girl says.
Morgan is inwardly relieved that someone has gendered her properly around here, though that’s still only a tiny comfort compared to… to everything else around here. “What’s your name?”
“Tiffany,” she says. “I thought about trying to run away, but Daddy convinced me how wrong I was to feel that way. He taught me my pce as a woman in this world.”
Fucking hell, this is beyond the pale, Morgan thinks as she feels sick to her stomach. That’s not Tiffany, the person that used to be Tiffany is with Joy back at the Jourgensens’ pce… and ae wouldn’t talk like that at all. He actually fucking kidnapped a girl and brainwashed her to be a perfect duplicate of Zell’s old self… only the way he idealizes that ae should have been. She shakes her head. “You’re not Tiffany. I’ve met Tiffany.”
“Honest to God, I’m Tiffany,” the girl says. Whatever has been done to her has been extreme, she no longer acknowledges any other identity other than that of an idealized, almost fetishized version of what used to be Tiffany Levin. “Don’t worry, Daddy can make you happy just like me.” This girl does not look happy.
It’s at that point that the cell door unlocks and Morgan turns her head to see who’s coming in.
It’s Jason.
And almost automatically, “Tiffany” gets up, walks over to Jason, and kisses him in exactly the way a small child would kiss a parent. It doesn’t look anywhere near as sweet when the “daughter” appears to be in her te teens to early 20s.
“Very good, my sweet girl,” Jason says, before looking over at Morgan. “Your turn.”
Morgan gets up in much the same way, but she manages to stop herself from walking over. “What the… no. I don’t think so…”
Jason smiles some as he embraces the false Tiffany. “You will in time. I don’t expect miracles after one session.”
“What did you do to me, you… Sir… what the…” Morgan says, shocked.
“I’m just teaching you the proper respect I feel that I’m owed,” Jason says. “Eventually you’ll come to respect me like young Tiffany here. Speaking of which, come with me, darling. It’s time for your lessons.”
“Yes, Daddy,” the false Tiffany says as she leaves the cell practically arm in arm with Jason. The door locks afterward.
Morgan sits back on the bed and starts to panic. Is this how Joy felt after she was captured? I… I have to keep in control of myself. I have to love… no, I have someone I love already! I can’t let him make me like that other girl… I have to resist this somehow… Miss Kelly, Mistress, someone come save me, I don’t know how long I can resist him… I want out from under this spell...
