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

Broken - Revised (pain, impact play, dehumanization, slave, oral, ass eating, choking, piss play, kidnapped, anal)

She woke up slowly in the dog bed on the floor next to his bed. Her body ached and was chilled, with goosebumps on her skin as she stretched. She glanced over at the table, 5:55 blinking in red at her. She never slept until 6 AM anymore. He had beaten that out of her. Nor would that clock go off as the alarm was never set. That’s what she was there for. She stretched, her body aching. Red welts crisscrossed her back, slowly healing. Her ass was purple, bruised dark from heavy paddling. Her thighs carried dozens of thin marks, bruised and bloodied, from her caning the night before. Every movement hurt, a gift from him.

She stared at him silently for a moment, her world. The only thing that mattered to her. She barely even remembered the before times. A year or more of training had seen to that. Months in the basement were spent shedding her sense of self, her name, only "cunt" now. It was down there he had shaved her head, burned her clothes, and destroyed her identification. Those things belonged to people, not property. Not things. Not her. She chewed her busted lip, still swollen, as she softly stroked his hair. She grew warm between her legs simply touching him. In the cool air, her pierced nipples stiffened, her pierced hood heated by the blood flowing down below. She smelled her sex but didn’t touch herself. That was forbidden. Orgasms were only a gift from him and even then rarely.

She bent down and kissed his cheek, pulling back the blankets. He stirred, but barely, as she slid down his naked body to wake him. Her mouth found his cock, kissing it again and again. She smiled each time, happy to be allowed to feel him stiffen, warm in her mouth. She watched him with awe and love as he moaned softly, then her head began to bob up and down. Slowly, a marathon, not a sprint, as she savored every second. Once he woke, the race would begin, but not till then. Her tongue traced every inch of it, the taste of her ass from the night before still faintly on it. She cleaned him, sliding down to his balls, salty and warm in her mouth. He woke then and held his legs, pulling back, allowing her deeper access.

Her tongue probed his ass as she pressed her face deep, smelling his musk, inhaling it. What a stupid cunt she was to ever resist. She was lucky to even be graced by him. He balled his hand in her hair and pulled her head up, jerking it to his cock. It was a monument now, granite, ready to pierce her skull. He roughly shoved her head down and she let herself drool around it, knowing what he wanted. He liked her messy, he liked her stupid, the former so easy, the latter taking months of work in the basement. Simple now, his perfect receptacle, made for him. Given purpose. Given reason. She whimpered a bit as he mashed her head down, smashing her nose into his belly. Thrusting faster and faster, rolling over on top of her, slamming his hips into her face, her crooked nose, her red cheeks. He squeezed her throat, pressing down, slowing the blood, blocking it, as the black began to creep in. Every day, until she slipped into the dark, if only briefly, before letting blood to her brain again, just a bit slower, just a bit more perfect. She felt his heat in her mouth as the world returned, him slapping her. Then he got up and headed to the bathroom.

She wiped her face, trying to focus, unsteadily stood up and followed him. After a few steps, she dropped to all fours and crawled along after him. Her knees were red, banged up, from carpet and concrete, but she felt nothing except the need to be beside him. He graced her with a smile and she almost cried. So lucky to have him. He sat on the toilet, but his cock hung out, ready for her mouth again. She knelt before him, the piss flowing as she neared. Some sprayed her chest, down her tits, and over the brand on her left breast where he had made her his own. She watched him, smiling, as she rapidly swallowed the wonderful warmth he was giving her. His piss never went in the toilet. Not even at work. A thermos brought his gold to her so she would have something to drink at dinner. He patted her hair, told her she was a good cunt, and stood up to take a shower. She got up, starting breakfast for him. The door outside was always unlocked these days, but it didn’t occur to her to go to it, to run. Those thoughts had died in the basement.

He ate and then left for work, leaving her to clean the house. Naked, she first took a shower, washing her body, rubbing baby oil into her skin as she got out. She then sat in front of the mirror and shaved her body and her head as best she could. He often helped with parts of her scalp, but she did her best to never have a single hair on her body. The closest she got was a wig and only when he wanted her to have one. Not for company, that was for sure. No one even knew she existed. Even if they saw her, they wouldn’t recognize her as the college girl that disappeared a couple years ago. Slim, lithe as a starved animal, her nipples and labia stretched out a bit, exaggerated and heightened as they were the most important parts of her.

Shaved, she then cleaned the bed and bathroom, washed and ironed all his clothes, and then sat down in front of the TV and turned it on. Her diet of videos started, full of women screaming, being used, abused, and tortured. Crying and begging for help. They were stupid, fighting like that. Didn’t they understand how much better they were being less? Less was best, she repeated automatically. A contrary thought didn’t even register in her mind. And when a college girl that looked much like her screamed for help on screen, there was no flicker of recognition. That was some stupid girl, not cunt. She was cunt. She edged to the slow destruction of herself on the screen, getting so close to cumming again and again, but never crossing that threshold. He told her one day he would remove her clit so she wouldn’t have to worry about such things. She had smiled at him, not really understanding anything of what he said.

Lunchtime, salad, exercises to tighten her holes, to be better for him. She sipped from his thermos, the cold piss sliding down her throat as she relaxed. Almost zen, nothing crossed her mind. Just slow breathing, waiting until it was time to get things ready. He had been stressed from work lately, so she knew what he needed. She got out the belts and the straps, ready for his return home. She didn’t realize she was dripping, soaked, as she laid everything out and then knelt before the door, waiting for him.

An hour later, he came in. She smiled at him and he slapped her to the floor hard. Then he kicked her once before patting her head. "Good cunt" was spoken and she almost came on the spot. She followed him on all fours as he stripped and held her head as he pissed slowly down her throat. He shuddered, filling her belly, then sat, exhausted. He lit a cigarette, drawing deep, just letting the day wash off of him as she knelt before him. He leaned forward and her mouth opened, letting him tap the ashes on her tongue. She then swallowed, saying nothing. She barely did, unless told to or asked a direct question. Finally done, her tongue out again, he stubbed the cigarette out on it. She whimpered, eyes watering, before swallowing it. She still struggled with that, but the praise was worth it.

Then he got up, as naked as her, and grabbed a belt. It had been a bad day, she knew. The belt was the thickest one, it hurt so good. She got on all fours and she helped him release his stress, taking it from him unto her, as he swung down again and again. New welts crisscrossed her back as she sobbed, screaming even, as her skin began to break, small drops of blood on her back. Then he kicked her over, telling her to spread. She hesitated, briefly too scared to act, then spread her legs wide. The belt kissed her thighs at first but inched inward, and when it hit her cunt, she wailed. That triggered the primal part of him and they both got lost in it. Again and again and again. By the time he was done, her sex was bruised, red, puffy, and spotted with blood. Moving was agony and he pounced on her, ramming deep into her, fucking her for all she was worth. She clung to him, her world, the only reason she existed, feeling him spasm and fill her. Done, spent, he got up to shower. Slowly, she got up and fixed him dinner, happy as he heated the Alpo before putting it in her bowl. She ate it graciously, then washed the dishes and showered.

She cried later as she curled up in her dog bed when he told her to hop up in his bed instead tonight. She was so lucky to have him she thought, as he pulled her tight against him, parted her cheeks, took her ass slowly, and then fell asleep having filled her. She stayed up, feeling his cock soften and slip out of her. His arms held her and her back was fire as his hairy chest rubbed against it. She squeezed him tighter, snuggling up, resting in the arms of her world.

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