Fair warning: this part's not for the squeamish.
***
“We might as well get this over with,” Erin said with resolve. This nightmare couldn’t end until they ate the shit brownies, and she figured they should do it as soon as possible.
Isabel had a terrified look on her face. She looked at Chris, who held the box steady between the girls. “Same time, then?”
“Okay,” Erin replied. She gingerly picked up a brownie from the top as Isabel did the same. She was overwhelmed by the sweetness as she places it to her lips; Erin had not eaten something sweet in days. But the facade was broken when she bit into the brownie. At first, it tasted like any normal brownie (a rather tasty one, at that), but when she reached the creamy excrement center she recoiled in disgust. It tasted similar to how the portable toilet—which was still sitting open a few feet from the girls—smelled, only far, far worse. Yet having been used to such foul experiences, such as licking Mark’s dirty asshole, Erin was able to chew quickly and swallow most of the brownie in one gulp.
Brian reached down and tweaked Erin’s nipples. “Good girl. That’s one down.”
Isabel was not having such an easy time. Erin knew her friend had never had a very strong stomach, and she indeed gagged almost immediately upon reaching her brownie’s filling and spat the half-eaten treat out. It dropped onto her thigh and bounced onto the floor.
“It’s fucking DISGUSTING!” Isabel shouted.
Erin watched Mark deliver a hard slap to Isabel’s cheek. “Do you think we give a fuck, slut? You’d better pick up the rest of that brownie and get it down. You’re lucky you’re even getting something to eat this morning at all.”
Tears welled up in Isabel’s eyes. She decided to change strategy: pinching her nose with one hand, she picked up the rest of the brownie. She gagged loudly some more but managed to choke it all down.
Erin watched through all of this, wanting to wait for her friend to finish before taking a second brownie. Isabel’s usually pale cheek had begun to turn bright red, and Erin realized the slap must have been much harder than she thought: it was difficult to watch her dainty friend take that sort of abuse.
“Alright, girls,” Chris said. “Next brownie.”
Each girl managed to eat two more brownies each with little relative trouble. The taste was awful, but Erin had learned to ignore it as best she could and concentrate on chewing quickly, swallowing as soon as possible. Isabel was clearly having more trouble, but finished each brownie soon after her friend. Thankfully, she avoided any more slaps from Mark.
But by the time there were three brownies left for each of the girls, Isabel had begun to grow noticeably more pale and had developed a sickly countenance. “Please … no more,” she pleaded. Mark replied by gripping her shoulders roughly and shoving her face down just a few inches from the brownies.
“Sorry, Izzy, but you’ve still got the best ones left.” Erin glanced at the box: all that remained were the brownies coated in what looked like a thick outer layer of feces. “And you better eat up quickly,” Mark continued. “We don’t have all day here. Well, technically we
do, but if you whores don’t finish soon, there will be serious consequences.”
Not wanting to anger her captors, Erin carefully plucked one the brownies. It was sticky and slimy, and smelled far stronger than the other variety. Erin silently wondered whose shit had been used to create these foul concoctions. Jason, perhaps? One of the other guys? Or maybe someone she hadn’t even met yet? Erin decided that it didn’t really matter, and popped the entirety of the brownie into her mouth, leaving stains of excrement on her fingers.
As she chewed in disgust, Erin heard a gurgling beside her and turned to see her friend’s cheeks puff outward. Isabel bent over and heaved, splattering dark vomit onto her thighs and the floor. She coughed and heaved again, and Mark twisted her hair, turning her to face Isabel. “Aww, look guys, we have a vomiter.” Isabel moaned in discomfort.
Erin had never had a weak stomach, but the sight and stench of her friend’s fresh vomit coupled with the horrible taste of human feces coating her tongue was more than enough to trigger her own gag reflex. Feeling vomit fill her mouth, she quickly clapped one hand over her lips and managed to swallow it. But she continued to gag, struggling to keep it down, and the guys took notice.
Just then, Brian stepped between the girls, yanked his jeans down, and thrust his hard penis down Erin’s wet throat, all the way to his scrotum. “Hold her still, Mark,” he said over his shoulder, as Erin pounded furiously on his strong legs. “We’re gonna have a little fun.”
Erin gagged repeatedly on Brian’s cock, sending small spurts of vomit rushing up around it and dribbling down her chin. She knew she would throw up as soon as the penis was removed from her throat, but there was nothing she could do. Brian slid out, then quickly jumped behind Erin and pushed her toward her friend.
Immediately Erin heaved, and a large gush of vomit splattered on Isabel’s chest and stomach, while Mark held her in place. Isabel yelped in horror but could not contain herself and she began to moan and retch in response. She attempted to cover her mouth, but Mark grabbed her hands, twisted them behind her back, and pushed her forward at just the right moment, and Isabel delivered her own blast of chunky puke directly onto Erin’s face.
This was far too much for Erin, who had no control as she heaved again. Brian held her about a foot above Isabel’s lap, and Erin blew three more loads of gooey vomit onto her friend’s stomach and thighs. Isabel squirmed and shrieked in panic, but Mark’s grip wouldn’t not break, and she threw up one more time, sending trails of light-colored vomit trailing down her chin, breasts, and stomach. Erin, barely able to open her eyes from the spew coating her face, identified the stuff as the oatmeal from the previous day, and turned her head away in shame.
Brian and Mark released the girls, and they collapsed in tears, shaking uncontrollably. Erin could scarcely bear the fact that she, on top of eating shit brownies, had just thrown up, not only in front of several guys, but all over her best friend—and vice versa. Her crying fit was interrupted, however, when she felt a rough hand grab her hair and lift her head up, painfully. A hairy penis filled her vision, and she was realized Chris was ejaculating on her face. His ropes of semen were long and many, and when he had finished, he slapped Erin hard across the cheek, then wiped his vomit covered hand off on her scabby, wounded back.
“Jesus, you sluts don’t even know how to eat breakfast,” Chris said. He pushed Erin backward onto the ground and spat on her face. Humiliated, Erin glanced over to see Brian spurting his own load onto Isabel’s tear-streaked face. He finished by wiping Erin’s vomit off his penis onto Isabel’s forehead.
Brian slapped Isabel, then stepped back with a satisfied smile on his face as he tucked his dripping dick back into his jeans and zipped them. “Yes indeed, well, that’s definitely the end of breakfast for today, then. You girls will just have to go hungry. Chris, why don’t you take the brownies away. Mark? How about some water for the girls? They certainly don’t deserve it, but unfortunately they’re going to need it if we want to keep them among the living.”
Brian’s euphemistic way of speech angered Erin. It was similar to how Jason spoke, always dancing around what he really meant, trying to make things seem not as bad as they were, and always spoken with an air of enormous smugness.
“Already on it,” Mark replied. Erin realized he was ejaculating into the glasses of water she had all but forgotten about. She cringed as he mixed each drink with his hard cock, but she was utterly parched, and when Mark handed her a glass she downed it quickly, without thought. Isabel did the same, and the girls looked at each other with shared expressions of dismay, shame, and disgust. Erin couldn’t bear to see her friend in such a messy state, however, and quickly looked away.
It pained Erin to be separated so emotionally from her best friend: though they were going through the same experience, the carelessness with which their captors treated the girls’ naked bodies, genuinely objectifying them, and the similar casual openness with which Erin and Isabel were forced to treat each other had driven a wedge of shame between them. On top of that, Erin had not been able to speak openly to Isabel since their first meeting in the basement, and the lack of real communication only divided them more. She longed for them to be able to discuss their feelings about this harrowing situation, but the more Erin thought about it, the more she became convinced their captors were separating them on purpose. She truly had no hope.
Chris had returned from storing the box of brownies from wherever he had gotten it. Erin looked around to find the patch of light-soaked concrete she was sitting in was decorated with vomit splatters and chunks of partially eaten brownie. She still had the inescapably disgusting taste of excrement in her mouth, and the sight of everything around her nearly made her throw up again, but she looked up at the harsh light and concentrated on keeping it down. She wondered if it was possible that cameras were still watching them, even down here in the otherwise dark basement.
After the girls had rested a bit, Brian spoke. “So, of course you sluts know you’ll need to be punished for not finishing your breakfasts. But that was your choice to make, so we’re happy to oblige.”
In fact, the thought had not crossed Erin’s mind, but she quickly realized she should have known: her captors had always said she must finish all she was given to eat.
“Chris?” Brian continued. “What’s the first possible punishment on the list for today?”
Chris walked over to Brian and whispered in his ear.
“Ah, that’s right,” Brian smiled broadly. “This is a good one. I promise you filthy vomit whores will
not enjoy it, but we certainly will.”