Version 3.4 of my Omnibus is up!

As always, my linktree is the best place to find links to all my work.

You can access my Omnibus here - Warning, it now only downloads the HTML file. Just open it in the browser of your choice and it will work exactly as it did before as everything is self-contained in one file.

Anything tagged with an * cannot be found on Reddit.

Version 3.4
Continued to revise, tag, and date older stories
Added the following stories...
*Welcome to the family (Read the tags)

Version 3.3
Continued to revise, tag, and date older stories
Added the following stories...
*The breaking of the Batgirl (Added chapter 2)
*The Truth (extensive update)
*How I started online (extensive update)
She knew who she was

Version 3.2
Continued to revise, tag, and date older stories
Added the following stories...
It wasn't supposed to be like that
The breaking of the Batgirl

They watched her

(Broken, ruined, watched, manipulated, groomed, needy)

They watched her, hungry. Some saw a person, some prey, some a little girl, some a bimbo. Some just saw a victim, a thing to hunt down and destroy. But all of them saw her. They knew that made her tremble, what made her wet and eager. What can send her appetites spiraling out of her control and they wanted to feed her so bad. Some would leave her sated, even begging for more. Some would drag her to the edge of the cliff, pounding away as she teetered on the abyss. A select few would finish with her and shove her off, waiting for her to hit below.

And they knew all those fates made her wet. Whether she was broken, sick, damaged goods, groomed, or conditioned, she wanted it all. They knew that. And they all wanted to give it to her. Every one of them wanted to take a part of her and make it their own. To mark her, to break her, to ruin her, or end her. Everyone wanted to see the crazy in her eyes, to taste her fear and need, to see the gray and either banish it or drown her forever in it.

So many of them wanted to hurt her. They wanted to touch her soft white skin, pale, and slap it until it was red. They wanted to grab her hair and jerk her about until her roots were almost torn out. Slap every inch of her. Her fat tits, her ass, her belly. So many would hit her on her thighs and cunt. Beautifully red. The more cruel ones would focus on her hands and feet, loving the way she hobbled about.

But that was just for the tamer ones. Some wanted more and knew she wanted more too. Unable, incapable of saying stop. So they don’t want to slap her, they want to curl their hands into fists. To make her pretty, to make her scream. Some would hit her fragile spots. Make her fingers and toes barely work. Some would give her cunt the prettiest of purples, swollen until it was closed. Her breasts would be made lumpy, black and blue, her belly red, until she bent over, retching. And some, some would make her beautiful, dash crimson on her face, her eyes unfocused, stumbling, confused. Made better with black eyes.

Of course, not all of them wanted that. Some just wanted her to be as disgusting on the outside as she was on the inside. They would fill her belly with alcohol, piss, or food, then squeeze her guts. Mash them, hit her gut till she got sick. Ramming their fingers in her mouth, gagging her on their hands or cocks, until she threw up all over herself. Punish her for being fat, not good enough, making her throw up on their manhood and her tits, face, and hair until she was purged. Thin and pretty again.

Others didn’t want fluids going out of her. They only wanted them going in. Most only wanted her to drink gold, day and night. A walking, breathing urinal to be voided in as needed. Sometimes in her ass or cunt, but always in her mouth. Her belly would be pregnant with piss, swollen, as she was tied up in a men’s room, reeking like the toilet she was. Even when not being a toilet, her Mountain Dew bottle would lie, containing their cold fluids, always with her. If she got sick, she deserved it, but no respite from the other porcelain device. The only difference being she was warm to use, the other cold.

Some would want to see her used by Baxters, Coppers, Maxs, Rockys, and Dukes. On all fours, rutted in like the sub-human bitch she was, mounted again and again, devoid of love by human hands. Runny white would leak from her gaped-out holes, being filled again and again, drooling their love onto the floor, kept in a crate where she belonged. But not only there. Many wanted to see more and more, for those animals were too small. Larger, beautiful black and brown males, literally stallions were wanted. Stretching her jaw until it wanted to break, battering her cervix while barely in her, filling up her guts, rearranging them. Her body would never be the same after. Or maybe a few dark men wanted to see more. To see her impaled on massive cocks, shaking, torn apart on the inside, one last beautiful gift to humanity.

But most? Most want to strip her of her humanity. To break her down, piece by piece, until she was blank nothing. Some would leave her like that, a thing, an it. Some would build her back, put the pieces back together, to make her better. Better for them, though some would make her better for herself as well. But most would make her better for them. Pretty, obedient, a good pet who would do anything they asked. It wouldn’t be easy of course, reprogramming her, fixing her flaws and wrong-headed thoughts. Some would enjoy her sobs as she completely broke down, as her blonde hair fell to the floor, shaved off her head. Almost all would deny her a name, other than Pet or Cunt or It. Sammie no more, only people deserved names like that. It would never be a person again, had never really been a person, just a cunt playing pretend.

Stripped of clothes, it would be treated like the stupid flesh it was, taught harshly again and again that it was a thing existing only for them. That part wouldn’t be hard at all. They knew what buttons to push, her near-psychotic need for approval and validation. No punch could ever hurt her as much as you could simply be refusing to call her a “good girl”. A simple denial of praise would break her down so much that when it was finally given, there would be no act she wouldn’t do to hear those words. No limit to her depravity as long as she was given that drug above all others. For that, she would gladly become an it. They would barely have to lift a finger if they did it right. A breathing toy, to play with until it broke.

And so they watched with bated breath every day for another morsel. Perhaps a bit of personal information that she would accidentally leak. Maybe an unedited photo would be briefly posted. Another fictional story that rang just a bit too true, felt a bit too real. Or glimpse another slice of her depraved reality as she tried to juggle all of her selves. They watched all of that. Some cheered for her. Some wanted to see her fail. Some wanted her to be safer than she was while others wanted to see her self-destruction. The gray, the spiral, the neediness, the craving for validation and acceptance. No matter what things she did, what drugs she snorted, what pain she felt, or how many times she came, she would always need that approval. Their approval. And so she fed the men watching, and hoped in return, they would feed her. In one way or another.

Primal - A Badsammie experience (True, needy, masturbation, oral, impact play, piss play, piss drinking, fisted, best, knotted, toys, consensual abuse)

That mood stalks me, follows me throughout the day, as my scent eggs it on. It knows I'm damaged goods, meat ready to be devoured. Too weak to fight, dripping before I'm touched or hurt, only needing the promise of abuse to tingle. And then, perched high, seeing its prey, it pounces on me and I drop. The good part of me, the respectable parts, they drown almost instantly in the flood of need that overcomes me. My hands shake as I message Jack and tell him my thoughts as they drool down my legs. I taste them and they are delicious. I behave, the clock taking an eternity to tick one minute forward, each second an eon. I chew my lip, distracting myself briefly to an unsatisfying orgasm and a long warm, and wet tongue. A poor appetizer for tonight.

Eventually, Jack pulls up as does Tony. I'm giddy as my emotions and need ping pong around inside me. The kids are happy as Tony tells them hi and swings them playfully about. Jack pulls me into the bathroom. I smile, excited, assuming the position when I'm slapped hard. Once, twice, then I'm told to calm down. Shaking, I nod. Then my head is pushed down and he relieves himself in his urinal and I swallow his warmth. I wait in the bathroom when he leaves and Tony comes in and does the same. His bladder is full, sour and bitter, but my stomach takes it all. And then, we make dinner.

I help with the sides as Jack grills some burgers and we all sit down and eat. My cheeks are warm, even warmer from the sun, as the kids play in the backyard afterward. I clean the dishes as he cleans the grill, the adults enjoying some beers as lightning bugs are chased by children. Then, the kids are washed, made or helped to brush their teeth, and then put to bed with The Flea's Sneeze.

And then I go to the basement with my boys. They are already ready, enjoying their drinks, and offer me one as well. I have a shot, then another, before taking a bump that was offered. The slink is out, lube, but first I put on a show for them. I don't want them to see me as a person right now. I want to be a bitch, a cunt, an animal for them to use. So I show them my truth. I kneel behind Baxter, reaching under him, stroking him, and rub his hairy belly as my tongue explores his ass. It should be degrading and humiliating, but I feel their eyes and I feel him tense as my tongue probes him. I do it all without hesitation or guilt. Then I lower my head and as he grows, I take the red into my mouth, only briefly. I want to be mounted like a common bitch in heat. Watching Jack and Tony, Baxter mounts me, as I reach back to help guide him in. He's so excited he keeps missing, but once planted he locks in and I'm his. Furious thrusts feel good, copious amounts of pre cum feel better, as they strip and stroke their cocks as they watch me dehumanize myself. Before long, pressure builds and we're locked together as heat fills me, wishing I could be bred.

As we are bound and facing opposite directions, waiting for him to slip out, Tony comes over and slaps me hard. He pees on me and my hair is slick with his scent. I moan, rubbing my swollen hole as Jack starts lubing up the toy. When Baxter pulls free, a rush of cum spurts to the floor and I lower my head to clean it. As I do, lubed fingered prepare me, before I'm told to roll on my back. I hold my legs as the slink is worked in, inch by inch, one foot, then two, all coiled within my guts. Then Jack pees on me as well, soaking every inch my worthless body. He steps on my gut, pressing down, as I drop my legs and look at him. He sees the wild in me, then steps on my tits, my head, pressing it hard against the floor. Tony kicks me in the side, then in the cunt, and that's all I need to start begging.

I'm manhandled hard between the two of them, the only breaks I get are to push the slink back in my ruined ass. Tony pulls me up on my hands and knees and between his fingers, a double-ended dildo, and his cock, he abuses my throat until I get sick. My face is rubbed in it, then he uses my throat again until he cums, my voice raw. Jack fists my cunt, before pulling out the slink. I feel so empty as the hated toy is shoved in. A fleshlight in my ass, the only way I'll ever be tight again, fucked, reeking of bile and piss. He cums in it, then pulls it out and swings it at me, cum smacking me in the face but not the toy. Then my ass is fisted by both of them, alternating, until I'm gaped, ruined, and exhausted. I'm kicked on my sides, then a belt kisses my cunt repeatedly until I scream and go limp. Vibrating plugs go in both holes, I'm cuffed and left chained to the wall, no longer needed. I cum and cum again until I go numb.

Sometime later, I don't know when, Jack comes down. I'm barely aware. I don't feel anything yet everything aches. I'm carried up the stairs to the hot bath that is waiting, while he goes downstairs to clean. I soak, barely awake, until he comes up, washing and kissing me, giving me my paci. Then I'm dried off and carried to bed and in seconds, I'm out until morning. I wake once, spooned tight, still sucking on my pacifier, as I wiggle in even tighter against him, held and safe where I belong.

If you enjoy my work, everything I write and do can be found here -

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