The Subjugation of Rembrandt Logan Chapter 1: The Cat and the Mouse  

 

A near miss.

 

“Watch where you’re going, asshole!” The rider screamed at him after nearly colliding with him on her dirtbike. It was black with a green stripe that read “Monster” on it. A quick look back revealed the rider making a rude gesture with her gloved hand before vanishing around the corner.

 

Rembrandt made a mental note to avoid her as best he could. He didn’t want to have any drama on his first day of school. His first day of highschool and his first day of school period. His fingers trembled as he enter the school among the flood of similarly minded students. He’d never been around this many people before in his life. It was intimidating, but at least he had three years to get adjusted.

 

His morning started out decent enough. He made it through his classes and orientation without making any waves. The lessons were easy as the teachers gave light assignments and review material for their first day. The hardest assignment he had was finding the book for required reading by next week. He’d ordered it express on amazon right as the class had ended. So far so good.

 

Lunch came and he ate alone. There was a free spot in the back no one was sitting at, probably because it was close to the kitchen and the smell indicated that whatever the chef’s inside were up to it wasn’t making food. Rembrandt didn’t mind. He liked being alone. It’s what he was used to.

 

Last period came and it was gym class, his worst subject. Rembrandt was not an athlete in any respect. He was short for his age which was a problem in the world he lived in. A world with living giants that dwarfed him beyond reason. If things hadn’t changed so much he doubted he’d bother with school at all because of it. Not only was he short even for others like himself he was also weak, both physically and in constitution. His arms were slender, his chest smooth. His family teased that he looked like a girl with his soft features and pale skin. He also suffered from more allergies than you could name and asthma to top it off. He did not look forward to this class. Thankfully he had a reprieve. It the first day and he was not expected to have proper gym attire. Instead the coach handed out locker assignments and declared the day over.

 

Rembrandt decided to seek out his locker with his free period. Many students had the same idea, and his class wasn’t the only one to get out early. He hugged the sides of the hallway and made his way to locker 13-C while wading through a forest of legs. He got a few glances from the more curious students but most didn’t pay him much attention. His locker was at the bottom of a three stack. It had to be there. He’s sure some eagle eyed faculty member noticed his unique status and noted it on his transcripts. He would’ve dreaded the hell involved in being assigned a higher one, being forced to rely on the ogres around him. He fished out a folded piece of paper that had his locker combination on it and fiddled with the attached lock. He pulled on it but it didn’t open. Maybe he put the number in wrong? He looked back at his paper when the air escaped from his chest. He felt his body fly sideways and land roughly on the linoleum floor with a whining squeak from the friction of his face streaking against the smooth surface.

 

His ears rang as he struggled to gain his footing. A dense pain ached throughout his side where he had been hit. He lifted his buttoned up shirt to find a small bruise just below his ribcage that was tender to the touch. As he struggled to regain his footing he looked up to face his mystery assailant, and up, and up, and up, and up. Ten plus feet of up by his estimate. One of “them”. It was a young woman in tight jeans and a red and black leather jacket. She had tanned skin that bordered on brown and hair that was a auburn-blonde.

She was talking casually with another girl a fraction her size but still taller than him by a wide margin. That girl was thin with a heavy sweater and plaid skirt. She had paler skin, almost as pale as his and similar dark hair only straight and much longer. It went down to her hips. Neither girl even acknowledged him.

 

“Excuse me.” said Rembrandt as he looked toward the towering woman exspectant only to be ignored. He tried to push past the jean clad legs and black boots of the taller one only to be pushed back again even rougher. The girls shared a laugh before the shorter one walked off but not before giving him the briefest of glances and shrugging. With her gone he thought he might have a chance to get to his locker, he stepped forward only to find himself kicked in the gut by the wide toe of the boot. He was now on his back as the the girl turned slightly and he saw the pattern of her souls and the logo of L.L. Bean before it pressed hard into his sternum, pinning him to the ground. He tried rather pathetically to move the boot but of course he failed. The girl looked well built and her legs were thick and strong. She was easily twice his size and then some, probably closer to 11ft than 10. She opened her locker and placed something inside before her phone buzzed and she buried her face in that. Within moments she was texting.

 

Rembrandt couldn’t believe this! He was completely taken aback by this woman’s casual dismissal of him. He knew he was nothing to a titan like her and clearly she knew it too.

 

“Get off!” he yelled but the titanic woman was deep into her phone’s screen by this point. She saw something that made her eyes light up and started typing in earnest. The phone beeped and she laughed audibly.

 

“Please, get off!” Rembrandt tried to no avail. The girl just kept on texting.

 

He swivelled his head frantically in search of aid. Surely another student wouldn’t just sit by and watch as he was mistreated like this! There was not another student in sight. The hall was empty. Rembrandt felt tears forming now but held them down. He tried re-adjusting his position but his squirming only seemed to encourage the boot to apply more pressure to his sternum! At this rate he was sure something would crack! The phone beeped again. He heard the shuffling of her jeans as she put it away and then the locker slam shut. Finally the pressure was released and he took in a deep breath coughed. It hurt. He struggled to his feet and found his face came well below her head, her chest, her hips. He was face to thigh with her. He had to crane his head back to see her face and found only a sneer of contempt and annoyance. They met eyes for a moment but Rembrandt broke instantly turning his head. He heard her chuckle at that. Then he felt fingers around his throat and even more at his shirt collar. He was lifted abruptly and pressed hard against the locker. Finally face to face with her.

 

She had a scar. A deep on down the middle of her right eye that even brow her eyebrow. She narrowed her gaze at his staring, growling and baring teeth that were remarkably white.

 

“He gulped.”

 

“I’ll only say this once, bitch.” She warned in a raspy voice that was breathy yet intimidating. “When I’m here, you wait your turn like a good little mongrel. Clear?”

 

“Crystal.” Rembrandt uttered.

 

“That’s my name!...Don’t forget it.”

 

Rembrandt nodded.

 

Her scowl turned into a smile that was equally frightening. “Good.” she dropped him letting him fall nearly ten feet and collapsing on the floor.

 

Rembrandt was left in a heap, bruised, battered, and embarrassed.

 

 

---

 

 

 

Rembrandt returned home shaken, and confused. He went straight to bed neglecting the few assignments he’d received. This was not how he’d imagined school going.

 

 

---

 

 

The next day began in earnest. Rembrandt made certain to avoid both the roads and the parking lot to lower the chances of running into that biker again. He headed straight for the administration office and submitted a request to change lockers. He was put on a waiting list. The first major hurdle he had to deal with were his books. He’d been assigned textbooks and like most textbooks they were heavy. For most students this meant nothing. The average person could carry ten textbooks or more easily in one hand. For him specifically hauling these books around all day was impractical, which is why students were allowed lockers in the first place. Of course he didn’t want to run into Crystal again so he shouldered the burden anyway.

 

By third period his shoulders were sore from the weight of his backpack pulling down on them. Not only that, but for some of his classes, like chemistry backpacks weren’t even allowed inside to prevent equipment theft. This forced him to leave his backpack outside which unsettled him since he kept most of his belongings in there and leaving them in the hall unattended just screamed “Please, steal me!” in his head.

 

By lunch period he had decided he would need to visit his locker. The fear of Crystal still loomed so he had to be quick and quiet. He scouted his locker long after the lunch bell had rang and students had dispersed to the cafeteria and beyond. He fished out his locker code and made a note of it in his mind. He took a deep breath and with fast and efficient movement he managed to unlock it and store his belongings. He let the breath go. Safe.

 

Rembrandt’s next major challenge was gym. Being only a day he had yet to acquire a doctor’s note, not only that but gym clothes had indeed been prepared today, thus he was made to suffer great embarrassment by changing in the boys locker room.

 

He wasn’t a manly man by average standards, but compared to the truly adonis physiques on display he was practically a woman by comparison. Not only that but because of the extreme height discrepancy he was forced to endure changing among a forest of dongs bare or barely confined by their owners preferred choice of boxers vs briefs at head level or above. Emasculated didn’t begin to describe the inadequacy he felt. He scurried to a corner of the room to try and obtain as much of an illusion of privacy as he could.

 

He removed his dress pants and folded them neatly. He’d only just fit one leg through his gym shorts when he felt a sting on his rear end.

 

“Nice, ass!” one of the boys said. He was broad shouldered and blonde. He had a strong cut to his jaw and impressive muscles even for his kind. Rembrandt could guess by his body and attitude he was probably on one sports team or another. He bared a proud grin as he eyed Rembrandt up and down.

 

Rembrandt backed away tripping over himself in the process. A number of the boys laughed and whistled at this. He fidgeted up and struggled to get his shorts on. They were baggy even with him pulling the drawstring tight.

 

“Perhaps you’d prefer a girl’s pair?” The jock chuckled.

 

Rembrandt ignored him as best he could and put his shirt (also too big) on. He tried to brush past him but was stopped.

 

“Name’s Jerry.” said the robust jock. His hand was almost as large as Rembrandt’s torso and he was taking more than his fair share of liberties with it. “My guess is you ain’t much for P.E. Just stick close to me and you’ll be fine.”

 

“No, thank you.” Rembrandt said weekly trying and failing to swat away the meathead’s molestation.

 

“Alright, no more loitering!” bellowed the deep voice of the male coach from yesterday. “Hustle out to the blacktop all of you!”

 

Jerry and most of the boys jumped at that and hustled to finish dressing, which allowed Rembrandt a moment of escape.

 

A standard physical fitness assessment was the plan of action for this class. The coach recited a number of basic exercises, jumping jacks, push-ups, sit-ups, pull-ups and the like. He also handed out clipboards and a printout to record your results. There would be regular assessments throughout the year and as long as you managed to improve in some way by the end of the year you would pass. They were told to pair up and then released to disperse.

 

Free to approach his mandatory physical exertion as he pleased Rembrandt made an effort to avoid pairing up with Jerry or anyone too tall in general. He hoped to find someone like himself. He was a rarity to be certain but not endangered, not anymore anyway. Surely there was someone at least close to his modest 154 centimeters. (5’1). He’d even take a girl if he had to.

 

His plan failed. He could see Jerry in the crowd and the overly familiar jock was making a b-line right for him. Rembrandt fled as best he could to evade him. He needed a partner now, height be damned. Anyone would be better than Jerry. He found a pair of bare legs attached to light blue sneakers.

 

“Please, partner up with me!” he shouted at them hoping their owner heard him.

 

“Sure, mongrel.” He heard in a raspy voice that sent a shiver down his spine. He trembled as he craned his neck backward to see the darkened face of Crystal looking down at him. She grinned.

 

102, 103, 104, 105, 106,. Rembrandt continued to count in his head as Crystal pulled up on the bar. She’d past 110 without breaking pace, by 199 she stopped not from exhaustion but boredom. She dropped down off the bar with a loud thud that kicked up a cloud of sand. She wiped sweat off her brow with the end of her shirt exposing her tight diamond cut abdominals.

 

“How many was that, bitch boy?” She gruffed out.

 

“O-one-ninety-nine.” Rembrandt stammered.

 

Crystal jumped up on the bar and casually pumped out one more. “Your turn, mongrel.” She barked.

 

There was a problem however. The bar was too high for Rembrandt by a mile if it was a meter. She gave him a glare and he tried in vain to jump up and reach the bar.

 

She laughed audibly at his struggle which caused him to turn his head in shame. She didn’t seem keen to offer up any help and he wouldn’t ask for it. Instead he chose to try and shimmy up the post of the bar. This took a considerable amount of time and energy to do and by the time he was able to hang from the bar itself he was spent. He tried once to do at least one pull up but his body failed him and so did his grip. He tumbled down and ate a mouthful of sand for his trouble.

 

“That’s 200 for me and a big fat 0 for you!” Crystal cackled. “Pathetic.”

 

This was only their first exercise.

 

The rest of the class went much like the first. Crystal providing exemplary, eclipsing, performances that trivialized anything Rembrandt could put up. Crystal was not a gentle partner either.

 

Rembrandt had feared pervy molestation and emasculation from Jerry. From Crystal he got that and pain. When doing sit-ups she nearly crushed his ankles while spotting, during his push-up attempt she stepped on his back with enough weight he thought he’d be crippled making even one push-up an impossibility.

 

During the run he was abandoned completely while Crystal sprinted off with a speed of a thoroughbred. This made his job harder as he was sure she expected him to keep the number of laps she’d done in the provided fifteen minute limit. He sighed and dismissed that for his own. Running was the one thing he was decent at.

 

By the end of it Rembrandt had managed to do two laps of the course with came in at a little over a half mile in fifteen minutes. That wasn’t bad for someone like him even it was nowhere close to the numbers his peers could put up which was probably in the double digits by minimum.

 

He was utterly spend now. Rembrandt laid collapsed on the field of the school as he panted to catch his breath. He recorded his time when the shadow of Crystal cast over him.

 

“How many laps?” she asked.

 

“Two.” he replied.

 

“Not you, idiot! Me!” she hissed at him.

 

“I-I...I don’t know.” he admitted. What did she expect of him? It would be impossible to keep up with her while trying to record his own.

 

“Useless!” She spat snatching the clipboard from him. “You’re lucky I remembered it myself or you’d be slagged right now!”

 

“I’m not your slave!” Rembrandt snapped.

 

Crystal eyed him hard. He held his resolve. If he was going to be bullied he wouldn’t just sit back and take it without putting up something.

 

“For now.” Crystal chuckled before shoving the clipboard into his gut. He’d only done two laps, she’d done over twenty.

 

“Get a good look at your partner today!” The coach bellowed. “They will be your partner for the rest of the year!”

 

Rembrandt’s blood ran cold.

 

He decided to wait until the rest of the class had dressed to enter the boy’s locker room. There were still a few stragglers since it was the end of the school day, but at least Jerry had left so that he could dress in some peace. He still got more than a few curious looks of very baser intentions but he could ignore those. He’d spent most of his life being objectified in some way or another and didn’t expect that to change in highschool.

 

 

---

 

 

Finally the school day ended but it hadn’t seen fit to finish tormenting him yet. Crystal was waiting for him.

 

He remembered his yesterday and waited patiently for her to finish at her locker like instructed. She was talking to that same girl from yesterday who occasionally peered at him with little regard.

 

Rembrandt tried his best to tune out their conversation as best he could. Something about books and a school event coming up. Apparently Crystal also owed her a bit of money her friend had decided to forgive earning a grateful hug. The Crystal who talked to her was unrecognizable to the one he’d known so far.

 

Soon the girl walked off again and Crystal turned back toward her locker and continued to waste time. In total he’d been waiting nearly twenty minutes since getting to his locker to actually use it.

 

“So the worm can learn.” Crystal said finally stepping aside and allowing Rembrandt access to his locker. “It’s Remmy right?”

 

Rembrandt didn’t answer. He wouldn’t engage with her if he didn’t have to. Why even bother making conversation since she seemed to detest him so severly.

 

“You were right to avoid, Jericho.” She announced unprompted. “Fag’s a real bottom buster. He’d chew that tight ass of yours alive.”

 

Rembrandt flinched at that. He suspected such but it shook him to have his worries so bluntly validated. He didn’t respond to it. Crystal was clearly teasing him.

 

“Although?....You’d probably enjoy it!” she giggled. “You look like quite the queer boy yourself.”

 

Rembrandt grit his teeth.

 

“I hit the nail on the head, Remmy?” She sniped. “The cock head!”

 

“It’s Rembrandt.” he replied quietly.

 

“Speak up, bitch boy!”

“I said it’s REMBRANDT!” he shouted loud enough to echo throughout the empty hallway. “Not, Remmy!”

 

He was snatched and pinned against the locker just like he had been the day before.

 

“Don’t you dare ever raise your voice at me again.” Crystal seethed into his ear. It was a cold, quiet threat in contrast to his yell and what he’d expected from her. “I’m half tempted to just let nature run its course on this. See you turned out and dumped.”

 

Rembrandt stared daggers at his tormentor even as she choked the air out of him with her grip on his throat. She moved in close to his face and inhaled through her nose. She quivered for a moment at the smell of him.

 

“No, no, no.” She said to herself. “That would be a waste.”

 

She dropped him.

“Hurry up and get your shit!” she ordered.

 

“Don’t wait up for me!” Rembrandt rasped back.

 

Crystal palmed her forehead with a frustrated laugh. “You’re really naive, huh?”

 

Rembrandt said nothing.

 

“Since you don’t seem to know anything, let me inform you, Remmy. You’re marked.”

 

“Marked?”

 

“Everyone’s biding their time to get at the new kid and the only reason you haven’t been pounced on yet is because I got to you first.”

 

“No you didn’t!” Rembrandt snapped. “The only thing you’ve done is be a complete bitch to me!”

 

“It doesn’t really matter what you think.” Crystal revealed. “It’s happening with or without your knowledge. So here’s the deal. Stick with me and I’ll keep them off your back! In return you do what I want, when I want.”

 

“No deal!” Rembrandt rejected. “I’m fine on my own. I always have been.”

 

“I can respect that.” Crystal said. “You have more of a spine then I thought. We’ll see how long that lasts you.”

 

Rembrandt finally retrieved his things and shut his locker.

 

“My offer remains open.” Crystal said as he began walking off. “Just know this, the longer you wait, the rougher it’s gonna be.”

 

“Whatever.” Rembrandt said storming away.

 

Crystal took in the view. Remmy really had a nice body. Just her type. He was slender with hips wider than a boy normally did. It was a unique look that was hit all the right notes for her. She felt a tingling in her loins. Soon enough he would be hers. He just didn’t know it yet.

 

 

 

 

The Subjugation of Rembrandt Logan Chapter 2: Between a Rock and a Hard Place

“Dr. Lee Ang’s has appointments open for 12:30 and 1:30 on the 11th or 4:00 and 5:30 on the 12th at the earliest.” Rembrandt heard the receptionist say.

“I’ll take the 12:30.” he said. He didn’t mind that it was in the middle of a school day. He would skip to get that doctor’s note as soon as possible. Even so school had just started and it was barely the end of August. He had to endure another two weeks of gym at least. Being partnered with Crystal didn’t make it any easier. He sighed. That plus waiting for a locker reassignment made it seem like hell. Was going to school really worth it?

As soon as he hung up his phone buzzed. He looked at his caller ID and frowned when he recognized the number. He hung up on it.

The phone chimed this time indicating a text message.

“Where are you?”

“Are you okay? Are you eating?”

“Please, come back!”

“I’m sorry......We’re sorry!”

Rembrandt thought of just blocking the number completely, but he couldn’t. He didn’t know what stopped him, hope, sentimentality, delusion? He just couldn’t. Not yet.

“I’m fine.” he texted back.

Suddenly his phone chirped with rapid fire texts. Too many to read at once and he didn’t have time to sit and read it with school looming. He shut his phone off and headed out the door.

 

---

 

The morning did not start out well. Both Crystal and Jericho were standing near close proximity to his locker. He needed his psychology textbook for his first class. It was the only class he was actually interested in. That locker reassignment couldn’t come fast enough.

“Hey.” Jericho greeted as Rembrandt stood in leaning against a locker and waiting for Crystal to finish. He doubted she was actually doing anything and was probably just lingering around to torment him. Rembrandt didn’t speak.

“So, I just wanted to apologize.” Jericho started. “I get the feeling I maybe made a bad impression the other day and I wanted to start fresh.”

“I’m not interested.” Rembrandt said coldly. “In you, or in dating period. Sorry, Jericho.”

That didn’t seem to dissuade the blonde jock at all. “Please, call me Jerry! My friends call me Jerry.”

“We’re not friends.” Rembrandt stated.

This caused Crystal to chuckle.

“Are you done?” Rembrandt asked.

“Getting impatient, bitch boy?” Crystal sassed. “You forget the rules already?”

“Class starts in five minutes!” Rembrandt snapped.

“Sucks for you.” Crystal stated. “Keep, complaining and I’m punting your ass now the hallway!”

“You can’t talk to him like that!” Jericho barked. He pressed his palm against Crystal’s chest and pressed her against the locker. “Apologize!”

“Oh, please!” Crystal cackled, grabbing his arm and squeezing it hard. She wrenched his hand from her and slugged him once in the chin. “He turned you down! Trying to play hero now, won’t score you any points!”

Jerich stepped back slightly stunned but no worse for wear.

“You really don’t know who you’re fucking with.” Jericho gritted.

Rembrandt was silent as he observed this exchanged. Why were they being so aggressive? Crystal had just punched him!

“Don’t play tough with me, Jerry!” Crystal taunted. “We both know you can’t take me in a fight!”

“That was a year ago!” Jericho blurted. He looked down at Rembrandt red-faced, like she’d just accused him of still wetting the bed. “So what? You making a play for him like everyone says?”

Rembrandt was confused by that statement. Was that really spreading around? It hadn’t even been a week yet. People talked too much.

“No, he’s open season.” Crystal said. “I don’t even care about your homo bullshit.” She shrugged. “But don’t step up to me like a retarded swamp ape! I’m not one of your boy toys. I won’t just take that shit cause you’re trying to get laid.”

Jericho turned to him with a smile that seemed a lot less welcoming than the act he had put on. “Really?” he rubbed his chin and winked at him. “Catch you later then.” With that said he left.

Rembrandt felt uneasy by that exchange. “What was that?”

“You think about my offer?” Crystal asked without acknowledging his question.

“Still no.” he replied.

‘That’s too bad.” She said blowing at her fingers. “Time might be running out for you real quick.

“What’s that supposed to mean!?” Rembrandt shrieked.

“Watch your ass, bitch boy.” Crystal said before walking away.

Rembrandt wasn’t sure what to think, but he had the strange feeling he was a rabbit that had just been offered up to a hungry lion.

 

---

 

P.E. finally came and dodgeball was the name of the game. He and five others were excluded from this activity and for good reason. Dodgeball got violent. There must be something in their blood. Rembrandt couldn’t explain the larger of his species more aggressive tendencies but seeing a rubber ball beamed into someone with enough force to break bones made him thankful he was excluded. That and the chance to be around people like him.

There were five of them in total. Two girls and three boys, him included. He was the shortest, tied in height with one of the girls. She was a short asian girl with blonde hair she claimed was natural. Her name was Tamantha Song.

“So you choose anyone yet?” She asked him as she passed him a red rubber ball. Instead of participating in a much more toned down dodgeball game they were given this small exercise to do. They had to pass the ball to each other as fast as possible until someone dropped it and that person was out. It continued like this until only one remained. They were on their second game.

“Chosen someone?” Rembrandt asked. “Why?”

“You know?” Asked the other girl. She was half a foot taller and had a more “traditional” look. A little heavier used to be the vogue with people like him. She seemed to be in the midst of transitioning from that state to a more healthy mindset. It resulted in her being more spoon shaped which was not an unappealing look. Added with her blond hair and rosy cheeks Rembrandt would bet she was probably considered “hot” by most. She claimed her name was Candi but he couldn’t believe anyone would give their child that name.

Rembrandt was still unsure of what they meant.

“To fuck.” Said one of the boys dryly. He was tall, half black-half latino, with a puffy afro and tied back with a scrunchy. He said his name was Carter and he also said he was Crystal’s brother! “Everyone says it’s my sister. Have fun with that. He caught the ball, Rembrandt passed to him and threw it to the last member of their group. A white boy with white hair named Tracy. He grunted and tossed the ball to Candi.

“I’m not trying to fuck your sister!” Rembrandt snapped. “I’m not trying to fuck anyone! I don’t know how that rumor even started!”

“Well you should find someone.” Candi said passing the ball to Tamantha with increased speed. She passed it back to Rembrandt and he dropped it. First out again.

“You really should.” Carter said. “Don’t want someone mean taking advantage of you.”

“I heard Jericho was looking at you!” Tamantha chirped. “That’s so lucky! Why are all hot guys gay!?”

“Am I missing something here?” Rembrandt asked from the sidelines. “When did finding some to…”date” become a priority?”

“Wasn’t it like that in middle school?” Tracy asked. “You find someone and you go “steady” everyone knows you’re together and stop bothering you.”

“I-I didn’t go to middle school.” Rembrandt admitted. “I was homeschooled until this year.”

“Really?” Candi asked. “Your parents like traditionalists or something? I thought all of us went to school now?”

“No, they just...worried.” Rembrandt blushed. He didn’t like feeling like an oddity even among his own people.

“My sister says Jericho’s a prick. I get that sleazy feeling from him. I saw him and his goons teasing you the other day.”

“Why weren’t they teasing you?” Rembrandt asked. He didn’t even see Carter in the locker room.

“I have a girlfriend.” he revealed. “Been together since we were three.” He passed the ball to Tracy.

“Same.” Tracy said. He passed it to Candi.

“Same.” Candi parroted. Passed to Tamantha.

“Brother.” Tamantha added. She dropped it.

“You’re dating your brother!” He gasped.

“No, dumbass!” She snapped. “You really are homeschooled. He keeps pervs off my back for me!”

“Well I have neither.” Rembrandt said. “And I don’t plan on getting one anytime soon.”

“Then what are you gonna do?” asked Candi.

The entire group gave him a worried look.

 

---

 

P.E. ended and Rembrandt went to go change. He still had a pair of oversized shorts and was even offered a better fitting pair, but he declined them. For one he didn’t plan on needing them in a few weeks and the other was the suspiciously short hem they had. They were a women’s pair and basically short shorts to boot.

He went to his cabinet underneath a bench where his clothes were stored and prepared to change. He was then grabbed from behind and lifted in the air. He was held tight around the midsection by a pair of strong arms.

“Why don’t you stick around for a bit.”

 

---

 

Rembrandt’s time had run out. Crystal had indeed served him up simply by being indifferent. He felt Jericho’s tongue invade his mouth. It worked in a circular motion against his smaller one. Controlling it, leading it, dominating it. He moaned and pressed his mouth harder into Rembrandts. It was edging on painful and he was forced to gag on his thick organ and swallow a copious amount of saliva. Worse than the makeout itself was the audience. Two other boys were with him. Both were shorter than Jericho but considerably taller than him. They had long hair that was dark like his with softer features. Jericho had a type.

He broke the kiss and Rembrandt gasped for air.

“Breath through your nose.” Jericho rasped. “Trust me you’re gonna want to practice that.”

“Stop this!” Rembrandt said struggling in vain to free himself. “It’s not too late. Let me go and I won’t say a thing!”

“You won’t be saying much soon anyway.” Jericho said. He dropped his gym shorts to expose his increasingly tight shorts. “Your mouth will be to busy and after that trust me you won’t want to say anything.”

He handed Rembrandt to one of his lackeys who without further instruction commenced to slowly stripping him. First were his shorts which struggled to remain in place without the probing hands of an oversexed molestor. They practically evaporated in less than an instant. Shredded and discarded. His top was given the same treatment leaving him down to his boxers.

“Check out this ass!” the young man said. He had a glazed look in his grey eyes. He turned Rembrandt around and practically bent him over.

Jericho whistled. “Hot damn!” Rembrandt’s eyes widened at the the size of his inflated cock pressing the fibers of his briefs to their limits. He could practically see the outline of his glans through the fabric and a damp spot at the end. It was very clear what was coming.

The other boy who had shorter hair of the two spoke with an accent. It sounded European in nature but Rembrandt wasn’t adept enough to discern. “I think he wants it.” The boy said noting Rembrandt’s expression. “But he’s gonna have to wait a bit.”

To Rembrandt’s surprise he went to his knees in front of Jericho and pulled down his underwear. Jericho’s stiff prick flung out standing as straight as an unsheathed sword. Then his “friend” went to licking. Long, slow, deliberate strokes with his tongue. Jericho moaned in appeasement and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Damn, Isaac.” Jericho grunted. “Too good!” He started pumping his hips in unison with Isaacs movement then an instant later he smacked him upside the head. Isaac removed Jericho from his mouth and whined.

“What was that for!?” Isaac asked effeminately.

“I almost came.” Jericho growled. “Can’t pop off too quickly. You know better.”

Isaac actually seemed to pout at that. Rembrandt didn’t like his odds. It seemed Jericho had been looking forward to him.  

He was restrained by Jericho’s other “friend”...”fuck buddy” seemed more accurate. There was another term more accurate still but he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. His hand held out to each side as Jericho stepped up. He forced to confront a rigid piece of flesh larger than he’d ever seen glistening with a fresh coat of Isaac’s saliva.

“Open wide.” Jericho said.

Rembrandt held his mouth closed as Jerich pressed his cock into his lips. He wouldn’t make this easy. He never would.

“Have it your way.” Jericho smiled. He removed the tip of his cock from Rembrandt leaving a droplet of Isaacs spit to run down his captive’s lips. He then took his hand and bent his rigid member to the said.

Rembrandt feared he knew what would happen next but it was so quick he couldn’t prepare.

*SMACK*

The shaft of Jericho’s dick hit his cheek like the side of a bat rattling his head and giving him double vision.

*SMACK*

He was hit again and a rush of dizziness came upon him. His ears rang.

*SMACK*

He whited out for a moment. His teeth bit down on his tongue hard enough to draw blood.

“Sturrp!” He slurred punch drunk. He was forced to spit out the blood from his mouth which meant opening it and himself up for oral invasion. An invasion that didn’t come.

“Turn him over.” Rembrandt thought he heard, but he hoped he didn’t. He wasn’t certain with his ears still ringing but what was, was the stiffness he felt at the edge of his crack! It wedged between his cheeks fitting snuggling. Rembrandt braced himself for the inevitable.

Nothing happened. Well that was wrong, something happened but not what he’d planned. Instead he fell to the floor.

“Your mom’s looking for you P.J.” he heard in a familiar rasp. The breathiness he’d quickly come to despise. He hated himself that he felt relieved to hear it again. “Want me to tell her your sucking dick in the boys locker room?”

Rembrandt recovered enough to see his first captor bolting out the door past Crystal who was leaning against the exit door with her arms crossed. She grinned all teeth.

“Last chance for that deal!”

‘“Dlll!” Rembrandt gurgled out seizing any chance to avoid Jericho’s intent.

“You heard the bitch boy!” Crystal said. “Take a cold shower, Jerry!”

“You already passed on him, fuck of-”

Jericho was cut off by Crystal’s fist in his face. He collapsed into a bench shattering it. Isaac eeped in astonishment.

“All the bench pressing in the world won’t fix your glass jaw. Jerr’s.” Crystal snickered as Jericho groaned on the floor. His diamond hard fell like the broken mast of a ship. He was knocked out cold.

With P.J. gone and Jericho out Isaac fled the room with just a glance from Crystal.

“Thnnk you.” Rembrandt said looking up to her.

“Don’t thank me yet.” Crystal said. She picked up Rembrandt more gentle than she ever had before. She then went and retrieved his clothing as well. She held him on her hip and left the locker room.

“So what?” Rembrandt asked. “I’m like your errand boy now/” he didn’t like the idea of being a gopher for Crystal but it was better than being a fucktoy for Jericho.

“Hah!” Crystal laughed audibly. “And what? Do my homework for me? Give me your lunch money? You’re not even strong enough to carry your own books let alone mine.” She entered the girls locker room. It was empty as the girls had all left for the day. School had been closed for sometime now.

“Then what do you want from me?” Rembrandt felt fear growing inside him. He’d only just calmed down from Jericho but he felt his pulse rise. That’s when he felt Crystal’s hand on his ass.

“You know what Jericho’s problem is?” Crystal asked. She didn’t wait for an answer. “He tries to force things to much. He sees a hot piece of ass and he just pounces on it. Tries to force things….like his dick in your ass.”

Rembrandt scowled.

“Hehe, cute.” Crystal said giving him a pinch to his cheek. “It’s much better to make them come to you.”

“So you’re no better than Jericho.” Rembrandt huffed. “Great.”

“Oh, I’m much better than that shitbag.” Crystal said she let him down on the floor. “You can go. I won’t stop you.”

“....But you also won’t stop Jericho the next time he makes another attempt at me.” Rembrandt realized.

“Smart and cute.” Crystal said. “So we have a deal then?”

Rembrandt paused. He was trading one bad situation for another. He could tolerate playing stooge to Crystal if he had to but this was different. He didn’t like being used. That’s why he was on his own now. He didn’t want to be in that environment again. He saw a familiar fate in Jericho, one he’d only just escaped from and he couldn’t be sure if Crystal was any better. It was a gamble….but he’d prefer a gamble over a guarantee.

“Deal.”

“That’s great!” Crystal beamed. “My own personal bitch boy!”

She embraced him in a hug and kissed him lightly on the lips. “Now then, you’ll have to excuse me if I don’t quite take you at face value just yet.” She placed him on the ground right in front of him. He couldn’t help but notice that their height difference left him at a very convenient position. He also couldn’t help but notice a sizable lump in pants.

No way.

“Seeing you all exposed has gotten me in a bit of a mood.” Crystal smiled. “I’m not like Jericho though. I’m not gonna force you. It doesn’t feel good if you don’t participate.”

Rembrandt closed his eyes to force back the tears. He’d chosen this.

“We’ll start out slow.” Crystal said. I only have one request for you today. She unzipped her pants and unfurled a cock. Not just a cock, but a hammer. Massive, larger in length, size, and girt than Jericho’s, and it was only half erect. The smell alone threatened to overwhelm his senses. He was too close to this thing for his own comfort, but he supposed that didn’t matter anymore.

“What do you want?” Rembrandt relented.

“Hehe.” Crystal grinned with satisfaction he could only imagine. He’d been manipulated from the start. “I want you to kiss it.”

 

 

The Subjugation of Rembrandt Logan Chapter 3: Hard to Swallow

 

“Kiss it.” Crystal demanded. Her teeth were showing in a smile so wicked it would frighten the dead. Her canines seemed more pronounced, almost like fangs. Her eyes were alight from the reflection of the locker room bright bulbs. The scar accented her face making her look all the more terrifying.

 

Rembrandt knew the implication if he complied. He’s already acquiesced to her but that would mean nothing without a demonstration. He could still back out.

 

Rembrandt sighed.

 

He took hold of her thick member, It was heavy, more than a handful even half erect. It twitched and a small stream of clear liquid flowed from its slit. The odor was strong, musky and raw from the sweat of her activity. Why did this have to happen right after gym? He could barely process what he was feeling as the smell threatened to suffocate him. It lingered in the back of his throat, so strong he could almost taste it without even making contact.

 

“Hurry up, mongrel.” Crystal snapped, impatient. “I have places to be.”

 

Rembrandt gulped.

 

He took hold tighter of Crystal in one hand causing her to flinch slightly. He took a deep breath and gingerly pressed his tender lips onto her shaft and held it there for a moment, then two moments, three, before he broke. After which he nearly gagged.

 

“You should really wash more.” he choked as his tongue flooded with the bitter, salty flavor of her sweat drenched cock.

 

“Shut up.” Crystal said a little too quickly. She zipped up. “Hurry up and get dressed!”

 

Rembrandt gave her a look. She seemed a little off after what had just happened.

 

“Now, mongrel!” She said with more base in her voice.

 

Rembrandt jumped at that and hopped to it, not wanting to incur her wrath. If that’s all she wanted he wouldn’t argue. Chances are this was only the beginning.

 

Once he was dressed she escorted him to his locker. After waiting just a few instances for her to retrieve her things he went to grab his own as he was conditioned. She didn’t speak during this time but as soon as he’d packed his bag she picked it up for him.

 

“What are you?”

 

“Shut up and follow!” She ordered. “And don’t drag your ass!”

 

Rembrandt did as told. He had to jog in order to keep pace with her long strides. He wasn’t sure what she had planned for him, but this was the terms of his safety. He couldn’t argue with her.

 

They made there way to the school parking lot where they walked up to a very familiar vehicle. A dirt bike, painted green and black with the word “Monster” written on the side of the frame.

 

“You!” Rembrandt yelled. “You nearly ran me over!”

 

“Hah!” Crystal snickered. “I thought I recognized you.”

 

With no warning she picked him up and dropped him on the seat. She then shoved an oversized helmet on top of him with a tinted vizor. Then the machined jerked as she sat down in front of him.

 

“Where do you live?” She asked as she revved the bike into activity. The roar of the engine drowned out his response.

 

“Where!?” She shouted at him. He felt a hard tap to the side of his head and assumed she’d just slapped him.

 

“Greenbrook Apartments!” He repeated. “On Greenbrook and West!”

 

“Hold on!” Crystal shouted.

 

Rembrandt did as told, holding on tight to the seat of the bike. It was built for her size so there was more than enough room for him, but with no seatbelt he was scared shitless as she hit the gas and the bike took off in a blast of speed.

 

 

---

 

 

Rembrandt was quickly learning that Crystal didn’t respect much and the speed limit was one of them, or really any form of driving safety. She sped down the roads doing at least 50mph in a residential area, weaving expertly between cars and even taking the bike off road.

 

He lived about two miles from school which was quite the journey for him in the morning as the buses didn’t run early enough for him to get to school on time. It usually took him close to an hour per trip if he was going at a walking pace. Crystal made the trip in under fifteen minutes easily.

 

She stopped the bike in front of his complex which was a gated community. You either needed a passcode or a keycard to get in.

 

“This the place?” Crystal asked.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Code?”

 

“You can just drop me off here.” Rembrandt said. He took the initiative and climbed off the bike himself even though it was a decent drop at his height and the soles of his feet hurt upon landing. He even snatched his bag from the hook it was attached to.

 

“Why?” She questioned with a sour look.

 

“No offense, but I’d prefer you not know where exactly I live.”

 

“Tch. Fine.” Crystal said yanking the helmet off him rather roughly. It left his hair disheveled which caused her to giggle. “Be out here by 7:00am, DON”T keep me waiting.”

 

“What for ?!”

 

“And buy a helmet!” Crystal ordered before taking off.

 

 

---

 

 

 

That night Rembrandt stayed up processing what had just happened that day. He’d nearly been turned out by Jericho only to have it done by Crystal. What was the difference? It was clear he was just a piece of meat to “Jerry” but that was the same for Crystal right? He was certain she had plans on him swallowing her dick at some point.

 

School was looking like a mistake. Maybe this was why his parents had been so against it, although he somehow doubted, they’d feared him being used as a sex object by an intersexed girl on his first week. Maybe he should go back…

 

His phone buzzed.

 

“Are you hungry?”

 

“I could come over and make you something?”

 

Rembrandt groaned.

 

“I’m fine.” he typed. He took a picture of a bowl of spicy instant noodles and sent it.

 

“Leave me alone, please.” he typed.

 

“That’s not a meal!!!!”

 

“Come back to me!” A picture popped up of a red steaming tail of lobster served over rice. “Tell me where you are! We can eat this together as a f-”

 

Rembrandt turned off the phone.

 

 

---

 

 

The next morning Rembrandt’s breakfast was interrupted by a loud horn.

 

“Hurry up, mongrel!” He heard in a raspy shout. The horn blared louder! Rembrandt looked at the clock on his phone that read 7:05. He didn’t think she was serious.

 

“Quiet down!” Rembrandt shouted as he locked his door with a toasted Pop Tart still in his mouth. “You’re gonna get me evicted!” He ran toward the front gate where she was waiting for him.

 

Crystal removed her helmet and stared daggers at him. She looked rather intimidating today wearing a tight fitting t-shirt that showed off the outline of her abs and the biceps in her arms. The words “Gym Bitch” was across the front in purple lettering, It was stretched to max length upon her robust rack. Her jacket wrapped around her waist and covering another pair of equally tight fitting blue jeans.

 

“What did I say yesterday?!” She growled at him.

 

“7:00 am.” He answered.

 

“And?” Crystal asked rising from the bike to loom over him. She was already taller than him by many degrees just sitting on her machine. Now she cast a shadow and blocked the sun from his eyes.

 

“D-don’t keep you waiting.” He said.

 

She pressed the tip of her black boot into his gut and sent him flying.

 

“Why are you even bothering?!” Rembrandt raged in agony. “What do you care how I get to school?!”

“You didn’t buy a helmet.” Crystal noted.

 

“You expect me to just find one?” Rembrandt asked facetiously. “I’m on a fixed income. I can’t just buy crap. I blew all my spending money on my required reading!”

 

“Excuses.” Crystal said. She took her helmet and placed in on Rembrandt like she had yesterday.

 

“Get. On.” Crystal said.

 

Rembrandt cursed and clenched his teeth. He wanted to fight her on this, but he would be late for school at this rate and he didn’t want to risk even a write up. He couldn’t afford to call attention to himself. He grumbled and climbed aboard.

 

“Hold on.” Crystal said.

 

Rembrandt grabbed the frame and prepared to be swept away once more but the bike didn’t move.

 

“Hold. On.” Crystal repeated. She took his arms from his position riding bitch and wrapped it around her waist. He could feel the ridges and ripples of her defined stomach. He squeezed as tight as he could as she revved the bike and took off.

 

 

---

 

 

“You stick with me today.” Crystal said as they pulled into the school parking lot. “Whenever you’re through with class wait for me by your locker.”

 

“Fine.” Rembrandt said getting off to rush to his first class and get away from her.

 

“Oh, and Remy!” Rembrandt turned to look at her and saw her smile. “Nice ass.”

 

 

---

 

 

He waited by his locker as told. Crystal showed up with the girl she was normally hanging around with. She had dark hair and thick frame glasses. She was wearing another heavy sweater even  though it was still warm out. She looked at him in a way he didn't understand. 

 

“You two haven’t been formally introduced. She said. “This is Junie. She’s here to watch.”

 

“Watch what?” Rembrandt asked.

 

“Watch you suck my cock.” Crystal said evenly.

 

Junie waved at him with an odd smile.

 

---

 

 

They didn’t eat lunch in the cafeteria. Instead all three of them sat in the dark corner of an empty emergency stairwell dividing the first and second floors of the school building. It wasn’t locked off but students rarely if ever used this one since it was in the back of the school and there was a convenient elevator anyway.

 

Rembrandt sat on the stairs just below Junie and Crystal and opened his brown bagged lunch as they talked.

 

“So when do you think you’ll buy it?” Junie asked.

 

“I still gotta save a few more paychecks.” Crystal said. “Maybe in another month.”

 

“Sick.” Junie said. “You gotta let me off road it a few times!”

 

“You already have three!” Crystal said. “Why would you want to offroad mine.”

 

“Not the 2019 one!” Junie whined. “Daddy wouldn’t let me test run the new line!”

 

Rembrandt groaned as he looked over his lunch. He’d rather be doing anything other than listening to two bitches talk about bikes.

 

“Watch’a eatin mongrel?” Crystal asked.

 

“A turkey club!” Rembrandt snapped.

 

She took his sandwich from his hands and returned half of it with a huge bite mark taken out of it. “Damn. Good eats. Make me one tomorrow.”

 

Rembrandt bit his tongue from saying something out of line. “I’m on a fixed income, remember?” He said as evenly as possible. “I can barely afford to feed myself, let alone you.”

 

“Oh, well I think I can fix that.” Crystal said. “I know exactly what to feed my hungry little pup.”

 

“No!” Rembrandt started, but it was already too late. He was gripped by the back of the head and had his face pressed flush into Crystal’s crotch. She rubbed his cheek on her bulge above the jeans.

 

 

“A nice warm meal, prepared fresh!” Crystal laughed.

 

Rembrandt turned his head to see Junie staring at him with intent. Her glasses were starting to fog from her breath as Crystal continued to smother the side of his face into her growing lump.

 

“Unzip me.” Crystal commanded.

 

 

---

 

“He’s done this before.” Junie said as Rembrandt ran his tongue slowly up the shaft of Crystals rigid dick. It pointed straight up in the air as she reclined on the stairway leaning back on her elbows.

 

“You think?” Crystal gasped as Rembrandt stroked her base with his tiny hand. “Let me ask him. You suck cock before, bitch?”

 

Rembrandt ignored her, not that he could answer with her vice like grip on his hair, pressing his face hard into her trembling mast. She grunted as he sucked the side of her dick with his lips.

 

“Slower.” She moaned.

 

Rembrandt tried to comply but she was contradicting herself with her hand movements. She was guiding his head at an increased speed.

 

He kept his eyes closed and tried to block out the sensations he was feeling. Distance himself from this act. It wasn’t him being debased in such a vulgar fashion, but someone else.

 

She ran her fingers through his hair and scratched lightly at his scalp in approval as he rounded her cockhead.

 

“Damn!” she whispered. “Ah!”

 

“Make him suck the balls.” Junie requested.

 

Rembrandt panicked. He tried to resist that, but Crystal was too strong. She lifted his head off her cock and he gasped for air.

 

“You heard her.” Crystal smirked.

 

“Fuck….the both of you.” Rembrandt said. He braced himself. He felt the sting but it didn’t hurt as much as he expected.

 

“Manners.” Crystal said staring at him. “You’ve been warned. I don’t like beating my dogs but I’ll make it hurt next time.”

 

“You wouldn’t be the first.” Rembrandt seethed.

 

They looked at each other for a tense instant. Junie even seemed a little off guard by his statement. Rembrandt lowered his head unprompted and took Crystal’s left nut into his mouth.

 

It was about the size of a tangerine and firm. The remaining one rubbed over his eyelid and marked him with its scent. Rembrandt knew he would now smell like cock today and hoped that no one would notice.

 

“Wow.” Junie cooed. “Look at him go.” She placed a hand on his head and rubbed his hair down to the back of his neck. “He’s pretty cute.”

 

Crystal didn’t respond. She was riding high on a cloud of ecstasy as pleasing vibrations ran up her scrotum and sent rushes of dopamine to her brain. His lips were so plump and soft! His tongue, warm, vigorous, trained. He’d sucked dick before!

 

“Damn!” She squealed. “I can’t take it anymore!” Crystal yanked Rembrandt up from his work. “Open wide!”  

 

He sneered at her, but she wouldn’t spare him. She took his cheeks in between her thumb and forefinger and squeezed. His mouth was forced open and she forced her rod inside.

 

Rembrandt’s mouth was set on fire as he choked on Crystals sudden oral invasion. He was forced to take all of her length down until it was pressing into the back of his throat. She was quantifiably large and it was not an easy task to take her length to the base. It was outright painful and he pressed his fists into her thighs in a silent plea for release before he suffocated.

 

“Mmmrrph!” He squealed, but Crystal only moaned in pleasure as her body  trembled form his intake.

 

“Hold, on Remy!” She said. “Breathe!”

 

“Holy shit!” Junie said awestruck. “He took it all!” she laughed in pleasure as her face reddened at Rembrandt’s feat of fellatio.

 

Crystal started thrusting upward from her reclined position causing Rembrandt’s entire body to bob up and down from its perch atop her legs.

 

“Ah!” Crystal cried. “Ah, ah, ah,!”

 

Rembrandt started to slip as she increased her pace. He felt her member start to slowly, thankfully withdraw from him as he lost his footing. Than it was forced back in even deeper. He felt hands on his head and shoulder and he saw Junie over him from the corner of his eye. She was forcing him to continue to deepthroat.

 

“Almost there.” she said. “You got this!”

 

“Ahhh!” Crystal moaned and her legs wrapped around Rembrandt’s waist. It was coming!

She lurched forward grabbing his head in tandem with Junie and pumped one last hard thrust into his mouth. Then came the flood.

 

“Mmmuh!” She rasped as she unloaded. He cock seemed to expand further in his mouth as she poured copious amounts of semen directly into his stomach. His “meal” as it were. The only silver lining to this horrible ordeal was that he didn’t have to taste much of it as it was pretty much injected past his tongue and down his throat.

 

He felt her deflate and both sets of hands come off him.

 

“Damn.” Crystal said again as she started to steady her breathing. She lifted her shirt to wipe her brow exposing her abdomen and underboob. She’d went braless today.

 

“Not bad.” Junie said she brushed the side of Rembrandt’s face with her fingers and then nuzzled his cheek with hers. “I might have learned somethings I wanna try.”

 

Rembrandt coughed. He was too traumatized to respond. He was tired, his head was fuzzy, and it felt like Crystal had just shoved her dick in his brain. His jaw ached like it had been busted off its hinge. He feared he wouldn’t be able to close it completely or even eat right.

 

He was lifted up. His face pressed gently into Crystal’s abs and dragged slowly up to between her breasts. Soft and warm.

 

“Good job, Remy.” She praised then she took his lips in hers. The briefest of kisses. Tender and gentle. “Good boy.”

She cuddled him after that. A stark contrast to the rough treatment she’d just subjected him to. He was made to lay on top of her as she continued talking to Junie about bikes and something called a Ryker Can-Am for the rest of lunch period. Everytime he tried to move away from her she tightened her grip. It didn’t matter, he was too spent to do much else anyway.

 

 

 

The Subjugation of Rembrandt Logan Chapter 4: Heart and Humiliation

Crystal grunted, then a sigh of relief. For the second time in ten minutes she had roughly deposited a load down Rembrandt’s throat in what had become their regular lunch break routine over the remaining week, only this time she pulled out part way.

This caused the last pulses of her orgasm to spurt on his face. Whether this was intentional or not was debatable.

“What the f-”

“Wait!” Crystal interrupted with a pinch to the corner of his cum covered mouth. She pulled out her phone with her freehand and snapped a couple of pictures. “Hot!”

“Delete those!” Rembrandt shrieked forgetting his previous rage at the spontaneous facial for newfound fury.

“Mmmmake me!” Crystal teased playfully. She rubbed the scruff of Rembrandt’s hair as the significantly smaller young man struggled to reach her phone. It was simply adorable to see him jump at her in vane, face covered in cum, too distracted to care about it now. It would hit him again soon enough.

He stopped out of exhaustion and hunched over. His hand went to his forehead and he recoiled. “And what am I supposed to do about this?!”

Crystal smiled. “Wipe it off, duh! Unless you don’t mind walking around school with jizz on your face. I think the teachers might have something to say about that.”

“With what?” He snapped.

“Your sleeves? Your jacket? Figure it out, mongrel.”

Rembrandt sneered at her. “No!” He defied. “You figure it out!...Or I’m sure the teachers will have just as many questions for the person who did this to me.”

Crystal squinted at him. “You’re a real prick you know that?” She pulled down her pants and then her panties. They were pink and lacy with flower designs in the pattern. She tossed them to him. “Use this. You can keep them when you’re done.”

Rembrandt grimaced as he watched Crystal pull up her pants perfectly concealing her true nature when flaccid. He inspected the panties. They were nearly as soaked as he was in their own right from liquids of questionable origin. The smell alone indicated at least some of it wasn’t sweat.

“I can’t use these!” he said.

“Picky, picky!” Crystal teased. “You’re almost not worth the responsibility.”

“Please! Give up on me!” Rembrandt seethed.

“No, no, no.” Crystal shook her head. “The head’s too good.” She snatched him up and held him in a cradle.

“What are you doing?” he whined.

“We gotta getcha cleaned up don’t we?” Crystal grinned. “The girl’s bathroom is just down the hall.”

“No!” Rembrandt panicked. They were alone, safe in the pseudo-privacy the emergency stairwell offered. In the past few days he’d come to rely on it. The hallway was different, there were potential witnesses to the shame still on his face. “Please!”

“Relax.” Crystal said not breaking her smile. “Everyone already knows.”

 

---

 

The feeling of dread was palpable. Rembrandt had never felt this level of humiliation in his life, that was saying something considering what he’d escaped from. His heart would stop and start with every stray sound of the mercifully empty hallway. They were in the section of campus that rarely saw any foot traffic. That didn’t discourage the echoes of idle conversation, footsteps, and doors opening and closing from just a corner away. It was still a school and Crystal was holding him for a reason.

She knew he’d bolt for the restrooms as soon as she released her hold on him. She even held his arms tight so he wouldn’t wipe her cum off with his sleeve out of desperation, which he considered more with each wayward noise.

“Hey!” he heard in a boy’s voice. He turned his face to hide.

Crystal turned around slowly. He heard footsteps and then a metallic slam. More footsteps.

“Hurry up!” Another voice said and he felt the swoosh of wind  that made him flinch as two people ran past them.

“Someone’s jumpy!” Crystal noted with a smirk. She pried his head away from her bare shoulder where he had pressed his face. Her facial had started to dry by now so little had actually gotten on her, but she made a production of licking her tongue and wiping it off with her index finger. She then traced the residue on his lips.

He could only frown at her. “This isn’t funny!”

“I think it’s hilarious!” she beamed.

A full minute felt like an hour as Crystal dragged her feet hauling him toward the girl’s restroom. She kicked the door open and finally set him down. Thankfully it was empty. He made a b-line straight for the sink but was stopped before he could start the water.

“Please, allow me.” Crystal said.  She held him by the arm and towed him with her toward a bathroom stall. She unfurled a roll of toilet paper and dampened it in the sink.

“First.” Crystal said. She took his head and turned him toward the mirror. He barely recognized his reflection. His hair was disheveled and soiled with Crystal’s spent seed. It had dried considerably leaving him with a cowlick. His face was worse than he’d imagined. The spots that had dried left his skin speckled in off white, slightly opaque splotches. Liquid where she’d wiped her sperm dripped from his lips and his chin. He was close to breaking now. It was taking all his willpower not to lose composure. Then she took out her phone.

*CLICK*

She snapped a picture of his reflection.

“Another one for the archive!” She announced.

The door opened. Both looked to see a girl walk in. She was very thin for someone like her, with little muscle definition and taller than Crystal. She had short ginger hair and freckles. She gasped at what she saw. It must have been some sight, seeing a young man’s face covered in more semen than a porn star, hair wild and frayed, eyes red and on the verge of crying.

“Just cleaning my bitch off.” Crystal laughed. “Stalls are free.”

The girl covered her mouth and stifled something Rembrandt feared was a laugh.

“S-s-sorr-sorry!” She mumbled as she awkwardly shuffled by them. Her eyes didn’t break from the stare she had on them. Rembrandt imagined it must have been like watching a car crash, shocking but you can’t look away. “D-don’t mind me.” She went for the very last stall at the far end of the room.

That was enough. The damn of mental fortitude broke and Rembrandt started silently weeping as the tears leaked from his eyes to mix with the sticky remains of Crystal’s cock.

 

---

 

“You need to relax more.” Crystal comforted. She tenderly wiped some of her own cum of Rembrandt’s forehead with a dampened sheet of toilet paper.

“Someone saw me!” Rembrandt choked out as he tried to regain his composure.

“Sorry!” Came the voice of the girl from the furthest stall.

“What if she tells someone? What if-?”

“If anyone bothers you about it I’ll personally beat the shit out of them.” Crystal assured.

“Sorry!” The girl repeated over the flush of the toilet. She chose the sink two away from them to wash her hands.

Crystal ignored her to continue cleaning her handiwork off of Rembrandt’s face.

“Can you please delete the pictures?” He pleaded.

“.....No.” Crystal said evenly. There was no taunting, or cruelty in her statement. It was just a fact. She wouldn’t delete them. “I like the pictures. They’re sexy. YOU look sexy in them.” She rubbed his face and kissed his forehead that she’d just cleaned off.

Rembrandt didn’t have a response to that. He felt a twinge of hurt in himself, he couldn’t believe her.

 

---

 

That night Rembrandt received a message on his phone through facebook. It was a private message and friend request from a C. Hudson.

He didn’t know any C.Hudson.

He ignored it but then a picture popped up with a bird’s eye perspective of his face next to an erect cock covered in cum, a string of the pearly white substance connected the cockhead to the tip of his lips as he looked up frustrated at the photographer.

Rembrandt accepted the request out of fear.

“What the hell are you doing?!” he typed.

“Just wanted to show you this hot pick! One of my best works! <3.”

“Are you insane?!” What if people see this?”

“They’d be jealous!” Followed by a grinning winky face.

“How did you even find me!?”

“We have mutuals!”

That had to be a lie. Rembrandt only had like ten friends on his facebook. Two were his parents. One was….

“Who’s Rachielle?......Why does your relationship status say “engaged”!?”

Rembrandt panicked. He hadn’t frequented his facebook in over three months. He’d forgotten to update it, more accurately he didn’t care...until now.

He changed his status to single.

“Correct that!” C. Hudson typed.

Rembrandt gulped.

“I...can’t.” He messaged.

“Why not?!”

“I just can’t!”

“Do it or I’ll personally deliver you to Jericho tomorrow and film him excavating your backside in 4k!”

“Is this REALLY that important to you!?”

“YES! DO. IT.”

Rembrandt weighed his options. So far Crystal had spared him that indignity. As much as he hated it he could tolerate sucking her off. The alternative was unthinkable. His virginity was at stake, and it was something he was not ready to part with….but the repercussions of this?

She stalked his facebook. She would see it.

He had to take that risk.

Rembrandt Logan relationship status: It’s complicated.

“What the fuck, Remy!”

“That’s the best you get!”

He hoped that would be vague enough to avoid-.

His phone beeped with a text.

“What the fuck, Rembrandt!?”

“So this is how you’re gonna play things!?”

“I was willing to let you go through this phase of yours but you’re forcing my hand now!”

He turned off the phone.

 

---

 

Rembrandt wasn’t responding to her texts. He hung up on her! Again!

Rachielle Wanstone crushed her phone into fragments in her hand. She took a deep breath. Control. That was the key. Control of her temper, that’s what scared him off. Control. Control of him, because he clearly couldn’t be held responsible of his own well being!

“It’s complicated.”

Bullshit it was! If he was out there cheating on her because of the break SHE allowed him to have she would CRUSH whoever dared to seduce him under the weight of her diamond heeled Saint Laurent’s and-!

Deep breath.

Control.

She was a different person now. A calmer, quieter, gentler person. The person Rembrandt needed. She had fifteen documented hours of therapy to prove it. She was better, she was getting better!

“It’s complicated.”

This was unacceptable.

Rembrandt Logan had been on his own long enough. It was time to come home.

 

 

The Subjugation of Rembrandt Logan Chapter 5: Surprise Finish

 

“Here.” Rembrandt offered up a clean and folded pair of pink panties with flowers embroidered into the pattern.

 

“What is this?” Crystal peered at him through the visor of her helmet.

 

“Your panties.” Rembrandt sighed, annoyed. “You gave them to me yesterday?”

 

“To keep.” Crystal said.

 

“For what?” Rembrandt griped. “I don’t wear women’s underwear and they’re way too big if I did.”

 

“As a memento, a keepsake, something for you to remember me by. Maybe sniff when you’re rubbing one out? I don’t know man. Most guys don’t wash and return a pair of panties a girl gives them.”

 

“Just take them, please!” Rembrandt insisted. “I don’t want them.”

 

“Fine.” Crystal said rising off her bike.

 

Rembrandt’s eyes went wide in shock as she stripped her pants right in front of him. She lowered her torn pair of black jeans down to her ankles and casually stepped out of them before removing a navy pair of boy shorts. For a brief moment she was bottomless with her member hanging limp and free in the cool morning air. Rembrandt was astonished as such boldness.

 

“Thanks.” She said taking her panties from him. She slipped them on as casually and unashamed as she’d removed her previous pair. She then handed him her used boy shorts before pulling up her jeans and zipping up. “Get on.”

 

 

---

 

 

Rembrandt was distracted by the interaction he had the night before. He’d upset Rachielle. That was not good. She was probably out trying to track him down at that very moment and with her money and resources tracing his phone was not out of the realm of possibility. It was only a matter of time now. The real question wasn’t if she’d show up but if he could escape again?

 

“Mr. Logan.”

 

He snapped to attention. He looked up at his psyche teacher; an aging woman with grey at the fringes of her bark colored hair. She must have been very old indeed. Most of the giants didn’t show signs of aging until very late in life.

 

“Are you okay?” She asked. “You seem somewhere else.”

 

“I’m fine.” He said trying to put her at ease. It was bad form for him to be inattentive when he sat in the front of the class.

 

“Then perhaps you would like to discuss common causes of identity dissociation?” she asked.

 

“It’s widely believed that it is commonly caused by…..a….childhood trauma!” He recollected.

 

“Correct.” His teacher said with a prideful smile. “Despite what is portrayed in mainstream media people undergoing dissociation can often live perfectly normal and functional lives in what is called a system.” The teacher continued on, using his answer to segway into a lecture explaining alters and eventually other kinds of extreme mental disorders.

 

He still couldn’t focus. Class went on in a haze until the bell eventually rung. The teacher didn’t notice his distraction and even pulled him aside after class to grill him about his home life and check if everything was okay. He had to lie through his teeth of course as he couldn’t afford her even thinking of calling his parents. It took much reassurance on his end before she let him go and he still wasn’t fully convinced she’d bought it.

 

 

---

 

 

He didn’t go to his locker at lunch. He didn’t want to run into Crystal and be dragged into another session of oral with her. She could be as pissed as she wanted about that, he had bigger problems. The thought of Rachielle lingered on his mind and made his breakout in a cold sweat. He took a nibble at his lunch for the day. A veggie wrap with green sauce. It was tasteless to him so deep was his dread of Rachielle. She was unhinged, more intimidating than Crystal or Jericho had been.

 

A hand gripped the back of his head and slammed his cheek hard into the cafeteria table. It creaked under the weight of his assailant. He already knew who it was.

 

“So I was gonna give you a break today.” Crystal said taking the wrap from his hand and scarfing down a large bite. “This is good! What is it?”

 

“It’s a veggie burrito.” Rembrandt groaned as his blood boiled with resentment. He tried to lift his head but that only encouraged Crystal to increase the pressure on his face.

 

“Make me one tomorrow.”

 

Rembrandt was going to say why he couldn’t but she didn’t give him the chance as she kept on talking.

 

“Anyway I was going to give you a break today even though you decided to be a little chicken shit, but Junie wants you and I kinda owe her so here I am!”

 

“Why?” Rembrandt asked. “Whatever it is I don’t care! She can eat dick!”

 

“That’s my friend your talking about, mongrel!” Crystal warned. “Show some respect! She actually likes you.”

 

“No.” he said.

 

“Well I mean, you don’t really have a choice so?” Crystal picked him up by the cuff of his shirt and hauled him off toward whatever task Junie had requested.

 

 

---

 

 

“This is my boyfriend, Mori!’ Junie introduced cheerfully. She waved her hands in fanfare of showcasing a young looking asian boy. He had a charming quality to his appearance. A sort of appealing androgyny like that of a K-pop singer. He was slightly taller than Junie and slightly muscular.

 

“Mo, is fine.” he smiled.

 

“Hi.” Rembrandt said with no enthusiasm. “What do you want from me? You looking for a blowjob too? Cause that’s no deal! I refuse to be the group whore.”

 

“Oh no!” Junie gasped. “I would never! I just wanted you to teach me a few things.”

 

“Teach you?” Rembrandt raised an eyebrow. What could he possibly have to teach her. She was from the superior race. They all were. They often looked down on him both literally and figuratively. He doubted he had anything to offer they weren’t already measurably more adept at simply by existing.

 

‘Technique.” Junie said licking her mouth.

 

Mo dropped his pants revealing an respectably sized cock for his kind. Of course to Rembrandt it would be big regardless even if amongst Mo’s peers it probably was nothing special.

 

Crystal followed suit dropping trow herself and unleashing her own considerably larger unit. To Mo’s credit he didn’t seem bothered at all.

 

Rembrandt scowled at Junie, then up at Crystal.

 

Crystal just shrugged and gave him a coy smile. “Get to work.”

 

 

---

 

 

Rembrandt removed his tongue from the tip of Crystal’s cock causing her to sigh in frustration as she was denied pleasure. He turned to look at Junie who was expertly imitating his moves to similar results with Mo.

 

“So your hands are bigger than mine so you can get a better grip to pump the shatt.” Rembrandt said to great personal shame. What would his parents think if they heard him talking like this? He didn’t care so much as it was years of conditioned behavior forcing him to think of their opinion in this moment.

 

He grabbed as much of Crystal’s girth as he could and moved his hand up and down as he went back to pleasing her with his mouth. She gasped and let out a light moan as she quivered in approval.

 

Junie copied likewise and Mo flinched. “Not so fast!” he grunted. “I almost.”

 

She stopped before her boyfriend could orgasm.

 

“Can you show him the thing?” She asked.

 

He looked at her confused.

 

“You know!” She said tilting her head in thought. “The thing you do! The, the deepthroat!” She said with the spark of inspiration. “Oh babe you’re gonna freak at this. It’s incredible!”

 

Rembrandt hesitated. That wasn’t a skill he had voluntarily! Crystal always forced him to take her-

 

His mouth was spread agape as a length of thick slippery dick was plunged down his throat.

 

“Holy shit!” Mo exclaimed. “HOLY…...SHIT!” He roared louder as Junie took his entire length into her mouth with much more ease than Rembrandt was. Mori grunted and arched his back as he came into Junie’s eager maw.

 

“What did I tell you!” Junie said after swallowing. “Incredible!”

 

Crystal was much harder to satisfy. She had more endowment and more endurance. Rembrandt’s head was leveraged roughly back and forth for Crystal’s pleasure. Back and forth, back and forth for what seemed like an eternity until he felt her cock expand in his mouth. It was happening!

 

He closed his eyes and prepared for another force feeding when Crystal yanked her cock free of him. She turned to the side and started stroking her cock to orgasm. A moment later she spewed a flood of hot seed out of her intimidating hard on out onto the concrete floor of the stairwell.

 

“Ah!” She sighed. “Not as good as you are, but I said I’d take it easy on you.” She winked at him and as was now a post orgasm ritual gave him a kiss of gratitude. In a change of pace instead of the oddly innocent peck that was the norm she chose to kiss him full on the lips. She lifted him up into the embrace and even peeked her tongue into his mouth in a subtle and exploratory probe. She broke the kiss and smiled that wicked predatory grin she had. Only this time it didn’t seem as scary and was almost sweet.

 

Rembrandt shook his head. His mind was not all there today. She wasn’t being nice to him. He’d just been forced to suck her cock. She was just playing mind games to mess with him.

 

As soon as she placed him down Junie rushed him to give a hug of her own. “That’s what I’m talking about, little guy. It’s nice to watch a master at work! Where did you learn to do that?”

 

Rembrandt blushed as a flood of mixed emotions and memories came to him. He didn’t answer. He would never answer. Not that question.

 

“Respect the skills.” Mori said with a congratulatory thumbs up. “Blowjob King.”

 

“Don’t call me that.” Rembrandt said.

 

 

---

 

 

“So I was thinking of breaking in your ass soon.” Crystal said.

 

Rembrandt spit out the water that had been supplied to the class that day for them during another assessment training period. He’d just finished his run with no notable improvement.

 

“What the fuck?!” Rembrandt shrieked. “Fuck that!” Fight or flight kicked in feeding him a sudden burst of adrenaline. His heart went up a gear pumping blood into his legs and giving him the energy he needed to take off.

 

He sprinted.

 

Faster than he thought possible.

 

He sprinted like his life depended on it.

 

“Great hustle, Logan!” he thought he heard through the gust of wind created from his own momentum.

 

He sprinted.

 

He got 100 feet.

 

Crystal snatched him up with less than no effort.

 

He collapsed in her arms utterly spent but no less afraid. She was no better than Jericho. He knew the whole time it was true but he’d held on to a fool’s belief just to survive. Now even that had been taken from him.

 

“Will you calm down.” Crystal groaned. “You’re acting like I threatened to kill you or something.”

 

“You bitch!” He screeched. “You’re no better than he is!”

 

Crystal squeezed.

 

“I’m being very patient with you right now.” She whispered into his ear. She’d bent over so he was on his knees in the grass. He felt a bulge press into the crack of his rear. “I don’t have to be!”

 

“Please!” Rembrandt cried. “Don’t! I can’t! I-’ he’d have to run again. He’d-.

 

“Shhhhh.” Crystal mewed into his ear. “Just take a breath okay?”

 

Rembrandt forced himself to breath and as he did he could feel Crystal’s grip loosen.

 

She went down to sit cross legged. “You calm down.’

 

Rembrand nodded as his breath settled even though his brain was still firing off synapses at breakneck pace. “I-I-I-I-I-I-I”

 

“Just slow down.” Crystal said softly. “We’ll start out slow okay. Very slow, very deliberate.”

 

“Your just like h-”

 

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” Crystal gritted. “Jericho would break your ass without a second thought! Crush your pelvis and leave you hospitalized just to get his rocks off!”

 

“You can’t subject me to the same thing you’re protecting me from. Blackmailing me over!” Rembrandt stated.

 

“You can’t just wave this ass in my face and not expect me to want a piece.” Crystal stated back like that was an argument.

 

Rembrandt choked down a sob.

 

“We’ll start this weekend. Just one finger. We can do it at your place.”

 

Rembrandt inhaled a sniffle.

 

“Slow, calm, gentle. You’ll enjoy it. I promise.” She kissed his cheek.

 

He almost believed her.

 

 

---

 

 

Crystal idled her motorbike by the front gate of Greenbrook apartments. She waited as Rembrandt walked up to the com and swiped his keycard to get in. She’d convinced him to let her up to his apartment but he wouldn’t give her the entry code. He didn’t want any surprise visits.

 

“So what kind of setup you got?” She asked. “A decent bed at least.”

 

“It’s a futon.” Rembrandt informed.

 

“I still can’t believe you live by yourself.”

 

“Don’t tell anyone.” Rembrandt said. “I can’t have the school contacting my parents.”

 

“Little Remy ran away from home.” Crystal snickered. “I can’t believe you had the balls for that. I don’t give you enough credit.”

 

“No. You don’t.” he shot.

 

“Ooooh!” Crystal cooed at his remark.

 

She parked her bike and chained at the bottom of the stairs. Rembrandt lived on the second floor of a three story complex.

 

“Don’t make too much noise.” Rembrandt said.  “Most of the people who live here are elderly.”

 

“I’m not the one who’s gonna be making noise.” Crystal teased.

 

“That’s not funny.” Rembrandt hissed at her. He shuddered to think of the plans Crystal had for him. He had to think of something before then.

 

They got to his front door and he as he fumbled with his key he found his door was unlocked.

 

‘Oh no!” he gasped.

 

She couldn’t have? Not already.

 

“What’s up?” Crystal asked noticing his sudden fear.

 

“Oh, no!” Rembrandt said opening the door. He stepped in his house and caught his breath.

 

The apartment was different. Clean, furnished. He’d only had a futon, a folding chair, and one small table to his name. That plus a leftover TV from the early 2000’s left by the previous tenant.

 

“Not bad.” Crystal whistled at his new wall mounted flat screen he didn’t even know he had.

 

Rembrandt didn’t have time to care. She was here! She’d done this.

 

He heard a noise from the kitchen and considered running.

 

But wait! Rachielle didn’t cook! It couldn’t be?!

 

He went to his kitchen and found a plump and round behind he recognized instantly. A large, curvaceous, womanly, matronly form. The owner  turned and smiled at him.

 

She was dressed in business casual with a red satin, button up blouse and black silk stockings under her black skirt. She had matching pale skin and dark hair except for a styled streak in front of her face that had turned platinum with age. Her long hair was tied up in an all business bun that let her bangs hang off the side and frame her face that was nearly identical to his.

This woman he knew all too well. Intimately some would say. He’d inherited her genetics and had been compared to her ever since. “Twins” the rest of his family called them including his own father. Her name was Velvette. Velvette Wincotte Logan.

 

“Rembrandt!” his mother greeted. “I missed you so! I hope you don’t mind that I moved some things around. This hovel was absolutely dreadful!”

 

She walked to him and bent down to give him a warm hug. She then presented him a plate with a red steaming leg of crab cracked open over risotto. “I made dinner! I hope you’re hungry. There’s enough for everyone!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Subjugation of Rembrandt Logan Chapter 6: Reunion

 

Velvette Logan had many titles. Chef, restaurateur, entrepreneur, businesswoman, former model, self made millionaire, but the title she was most proud of was mother. Specifically the mother of Rembrandt. Velvette had five children, Rembrandt was her middle child, her youngest son, her favorite.

 

Parents weren’t supposed to have favorites and she loved all her children in different ways but when Rembrandt was born she knew he would hold a special place in her heart. How could he not? He was a gift from god, sculpted in her own image, a reflection of her own greatness in such a pure form. Not every woman could birth a child like him, safely, healthy. The fact that he looked just like her only validated what she knew. He was perfect.

 

“My darling boy!” Velvette cooed into Rembrandt’s neck as her son struggled in vain against her. “I’ve missed you so!”

 

“Mother!” He squealed as she forced his face into her soft breasts. She nuzzled him tightly between her cleavage, that alway calmed him down.

 

Crystal was taken off guard as she watched her boytoy flail in the hands of a much larger, gender swapped, clone of himself. Or perhaps him being the clone was more accurate.

 

“Mother, please!” He tried but everytime he tried to get more than a few words out he was silenced by his mother’s affection. Forcing him into her chest or tactfully keeping him busy with brief kisses that skirted the line of taboo. She didn’t seem to care that there was even an audience as she continued to molest and coddle her son. Fondling him in places, groping his ass, tickling his armpits, necking him unashamed. Crystal even learned a few things from watching. Fun ways to keep Remy quiet when he gets uppity.

 

“Mom!” Rembrandt yelled out as loud as he could. He grabbed hold of her wrists and fought back as best he could. Kicking his legs and wiggling to no effect. Velvette only stopped her coddling when she’d felt satisfied, leaving Rembrandt a sweaty, gasping, heaving mess. She cooed at him and ran her fingers through his hair.

 

“What is it sweety?” She asked innocent, as if she hadn’t spent the last several minutes fondling her son.

 

“How are you here?” he asked between breaths.

 

“Well when I found out where you were I couldn’t just-”

 

“Rachielle!” Rembrandt snapped. He finally managed to free himself in that moment. He fell backwards and scrambled away to search the rest of the apartment. “Is she here?! Did she tell you?!”

 

Crystal hadn’t seen Remy this shaken since she’d announced her intentions to take his virginity. In fact he seemed more scared of Rachielle than even that.

 

“She’s very worried about you.” Velvette said. “You should really talk to her. It’s not polite to leave your fiance in the dark.”

 

“Fiance?” Crystal raised an eyebrow.

 

“She found me!” Rembrandt panicked. “I-I”ve gotta get outta here!” He ran toward a closet and opened it. He stopped momentarily to notice that it had been filled with new, expensive looking clothes. Then he emptied his backpack of school supplies and started shoving what he could inside.

 

“Excuse, me. Girl.”

 

Crystal turned toward Velvette at her first time addressing her or even acknowledge she was there. “Crystal.”

 

“I’m sure.” Velvette nodded toward her son. “Would you? He’s so excitable. Gets it from his father.”

 

Crystal wasn’t much inclined to just listen to some woman even if she was Rembrandt’s mother but he was kind of freaking out, as cute as it was.

 

She went to him and lifted him up from behind.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“The school called me.” Velvette said walking toward her son with the plate of food she’d prepared. He scooped out a forkful of rice and fed it to him. “A Ms. Summers I believe.”

 

Rembrandt let out a breath. His psychology teacher. Thank god! He actually felt a little lighter at that. Of course she’d seen right through his lies. She’d probably gotten his parents contact information from the school registry. He was still a minor and couldn’t lie about that.

 

“Imagine my surprise when they told  me the address they thought you lived at. Some hole in the wall in the slums! Like a peasant or a homeless!”

 

“I’m fine mom! This place is fine.”

 

“Maybe now!” Velvette huffed. “It took all day to get this place looking passable. I can’t believe my own son would prefer to live in this!” The way she said “This” oozed with disgust and contempt. “You should come home.”

 

“No!” Rembrandt objected. “I refuse! I hate it there.”

 

Velvette gasped. “You’ve become disobedient in just a month! This is what happens when you let the chicks leave the nest. They live in squalor and keep company with street whores!”

 

“Street whore!?” Crystal took offense. “Listen, bitch-”

 

“No offense intended.” Velvette cut off. “I’m sure you’re very nice. Very….robust. It’s just that my sweet Rembrandt is meant for a higher class of person. A family with pedigree.”

 

“A family like the Wanstone’s.” Rembrandt finished. “No thank you.”

 

“Give Rachielle a second chance.” Velvette uged. “She’s been to counseling, taken sensitivity training. She’s getting better, for you. Doesn’t that make you happy?”

 

“No.” Rembrandt replied.

 

 

---

 

 

They ate in silence. Velvette was “generous” enough to even prepare Crystal her own plate. She understood why Rembrandt would flee his house if it meant living with her. His mother was grating and condescending and absolutely smothering. He sat in her lap, not even allowed to deshell his own crab and rarely the privilege of feeding himself.

 

He was made to eat the meal in delicate forkfuls as Velvette meticulously cracked and prepped the crab and rice. She also took measures to make sure he chewed enough as she cuddled him to her.

 

Crystal was far less graceful. She cracked the shells with her bare hands and slurped the delicious meat from the legs like through a straw.

 

“Good eats, Mrs. L!” She belched. “You may be a bitch but you know how to cook!”

 

Rembrandt gasped. Crystal really did not give a shit.

 

“Such vulgarity!” Velvette said. “I can’t believe you’re a Rembrandt’s friend.”

 

“I’m not his friend.” Crystal said after a swallow. “Your son is my…. My….boyfriend if you want to put a title on it.” She admitted.

 

Rembrandt blushed at that.

 

“And let me make one thing clear here, Ms. L.” She finished a crab leg and scarfed down a bowls worth of risotto. Then chugged her glass of  sparkling cider. “I don’t care who this “Rachielle” is.”

 

“Hmm.” Velvette held eyes with her. Giving her a once over. Deciding her worth with a gaze. “Okay.”

 

“Okay?” Rembrandt asked. “That’s it? Just, okay?”

 

“Honestly it’s none of my business.” Velvette said as she fed her son another bite. “I just want you to be happy, darling. And while I personally think you’d be happier with Rachielle I won’t judge your choices.”

 

“You mean that?” he looked at his mother and she smiled. She kissed him on the lips and wiped his mouth with a napkin.

 

“Of course dear.” She said. “Believe it or not but I don’t want you running away from me. I’m not getting involved further. I was just worried about you. You didn’t even tell me when you left. And those pictures! I thought you were starving!”

 

“Well, sorry.” Rembrandt apologized. “I was just feeling………..suffocated.”

 

Velvette paused. Those words seemed to resonate for a moment. She sighed and let him go.

 

“Your father was right.” She muttered. ‘It WAS me wasn’t it?!”

 

“Mom, I.” Rembrandt didn’t have the words.

 

“And I was so sure it was Rachielle!” She snapped. “You probably hate me don’t you! You probably hate this meal!” She picked up his plate and dumped it in the trash.

 

“Mom! Please.”

 

“Noooooooooooooo!” She groaned. “Ah! I’m so bad at this!” She clung to a wall and slid down on her knees.

 

Crystal realized where Rembrandt really inherited his excitable nature from. It was almost a complete reversal of the dignified and condescending woman from just a moment before. All from one comment. She was clearly not all together.

 

“Mom, please, calm down.”

 

“Do you even watch TV!?” She asked before sobbing in her palms.

 

Rembrandt looked at his new TV she’d bought. He wasn’t a big TV watcher and spent most of his time on his phone or laptop. He couldn’t tell her that.

 

“Of course I watch TV!” he half lied. “Who doesn’t watch TV?”

 

“You really like it?” She perked up a little raising her head. “And the rest?”

 

“Yes.” Rembrandt said lying through his teeth. It was too much. It reminded him of home, but he would get used to it.

 

“Oh! My sweet boy!” Velvette snatched him up for another session of overaffection.

 

 

---

 

“And you’ll call me.” Velvette said as she started her car. It was a jet black luxury Jaguar with red trims and extensive chrome detail work.

 

“Yes.” Rembrandt droned.

 

“And i’ll visit this weekend?” She added. “I’ll make pheasant, you can bring your girlfriend.”

 

“Yes.” Rembrandt repeated.

 

“And a kiss before I go.”

 

“Yes.” Rembrandt parroted for a third time. Before he even had time to pucker he was seized by the collar and his lips were stolen again.

 

“Mwah!” She smacked.

 

“You...won’t tell Rachielle where I am will you?” he asked.

 

“I don’t know yet.” Velvette answered. “On one hand I do think she deserves to know, on the other I do like keeping this a little secret for as long as possible.”

 

“That doesn’t help me!”

 

“Well then I guess you’ll have to keep worrying about it.” Velvette winked. “See you next week darling. I love you.” With that said she revved her engine and peeled off causing a puff of smoke from the burned rubber.

 

“Your mom’s insane.” Crystal said.

 

 

---

 

 

 

“No wonder you left home.” Crystal commented. They were sitting on his new couch, watching an anime about a pirate with a straw hat, streamed on his new TV. They were apart. Rembrandt at one end of the sofa and Crystal the other. It was a full sized sofa fitted for large and small alike. That left plenty of room between them.

 

“My mom was only part of the reason. My father’s not much better...and well Rachielle is...Rachielle.”

 

“Who is this Rachielle bitch anyway?” Crystal asked scooting closer. “Why are you so scared of her?”

 

“She’s….I don’t want to talk about it.” Rembrandt said visibly upset. “We used to be engaged. We’re not anymore.”

 

“Does she know that?” Crystal probed.

 

“No.” Rembrandt admitted.

 

“You’re really scared of her aren’t you?”

 

Rembrandt was quiet.

 

Crystal scooted closer.

 

“Don’t worry.”

 

Closer still.

 

“I’ll protect you.”

 

Even closer. He could almost feel the heat coming off her body. He still refused to turn and address her. His mind was scattered and the lines in their relationship were getting fuzzy.

 

“Why did you tell my mom I was your boyfriend?” He asked. He felt her hand on his shoulder. He was pulled onto her, straddling her with his legs spread wide on either side.

 

“Would you have preferred I told her you were my bitch?” She teased. Her face was close to his now. So close he could smell her breath. He felt her hand on the small of his back.

 

“You...shouldn’t have lied.” He was shivering a little at her touch.

 

“Was it a lie?” She said softly. “You tell me.” He was pulled closer. He raised his hands to push back and found them pressed into softness. He tried to pull back but Crystal squeezed him in tighter. He was practically groping her now. The flesh of her breasts squeezing between his fingers.

 

“I.” He stopped when he felt her hard on. A bulge rising and pressing against his underside. Crystal giggled and pumped her hips making him jump.

 

“You need to relax, Remy.” She said. “I’m not gonna fuck you tonight.”

 

“Are you?” he asked. “Are you my girlfriend?”

 

Crystal held him. Eye to eye they stared at each other for long almost painful moments of silence. She held a smile, but Rembrandt wasn’t as confident. “This ends when you want it to, Remy.”

 

“Then you’ll hand me over to Jericho.”

 

“Don’t use that as an excuse!” Crystal snapped startling him with her sudden outburst of anger. “I just met your mom! We both know you’re just a phone call  away from salvation.”

 

She was upset. He didn’t know why. This was so frustrating. Rembrandt felt like he didn’t have a choice either way.

 

No that wasn’t right.

 

He just didn’t like his choices.

 

He wasn’t ready to trust Crystal either. Not after she’d revealed her intentions.

 

He gave up. He closed his eyes and collapsed into Crystal. He was done thinking for the night.

 

 

 

The Subjugation of Rembrandt Logan Chapter 7: She’s Here

Rembrandt awoke stiff and confined. He hadn’t fallen asleep in his new bed, in fact he was still wearing his clothes from yesterday. He felt itchy, hot, and gross. He couldn’t move his arms either which was worrying.

“Mnn.” He heard. Then his world spun as he rotated onto his back. He smelled something stale and felt warm breath on his face.

Crystal had yawned.

CRYSTAL had yawned!

She’d stayed the night! He’d spent the night with a girl!

Rembrandt took stock of the situation. She was dressed as well, the TV was still running. Logic would deduce that they’d had fallen asleep on the couch last night and that thankfully nothing had happened. His mind flashed with vivid memories of kissing her, more than once, letting her hold him that night. He dismissed these thoughts as dreams.

Crystal rolled again. He felt himself rise with her and he was straddling her now. His hands stuck in front of him, forced to clutch her mounds as she limited his intake of air with her casual strength.

Rembrandt held a unique mix, of pain, fear, and to his shame arousal. He was getting casual second base with an attractive and well endowed woman after all. He might even enjoy this in a different circumstance. That didn’t seem to stop his body though. Nor did it stop Crystal.

At some point in the night she had removed her pants. She was bare from the waist down except for a pair of what he believed were called “tighty whities” with a pink elastic waistband.

Having first hand experience with Crystal’s genitalia and her choice of wardrobe he knew any underwear she dawned did a piss poor job of covering her package when flaccid. This morning they were rendered useless in the face of her biological urges. Morning wood split the opening seam of her briefs and stood proud silhouetted in the light of the television.

Her hand was on his ass now. He squeaked in pain as her nails dug into his tender flesh. Squeezing, groping, and spreading. Oh no!

“Crystal!” He said trying to rouse his amazonian captor.

She didn’t respond. Her eyes were closed and she had a loose and drunken smile. She pressed her lips into his. His mouth was probed, pillaged, and raped by her tongue for a moment so long he nearly suffocated.

“Crystal, wake up!” He gasped. His voice was weak from her unconcious makeout.

“No, Robby!” She slurred. “Don’t. He’s mine!”

Who was Robby? Was she trying to say Remy? Rembrandt didn’t think so. She was clearly dreaming.

“I have a…” she snored. “Boyfriend now. See?”

Her hand went to the hem of his pants and yanked it down exposing his underwear.

“I’ll show you.”

Her dick spasmed and he felt it wedge between the fabric of his boxer briefs.

Rembrandt gulped as her shaft moved slowly up and down the crease of his but and the length of his lower back. A real killer it was, too big for him, most likely even with the proper preparation she’d envisioned. He wasn’t about to lose his virginity like this. Not to her! Not while she was sleeping and wasn’t even aware. He’d protected it for nearly three years to let it gone to a sleep talking, sleep sexing, tyrant!

Of course his personal objections meant nothing to Crystal’s very real physical advantage. He could curse her all he wanted is she had plans on his ass even while asleep there was little he could do to stop her, but there was something.

He hated himself for knowing this, for owing her anything. He’d been in this situation before.

Thankfully he was barefoot.

He stretched his legs down as far as he could and spread his toes. He grimaced as the heel of his foot made contact with warm flesh. He squeezed with the flats of his foot around the shaft. He started pumping his feet and pinching folds of flesh with his toes.

Crystal bucked. He heard her giggle slightly. “Good boy.”

Rembrandt groaned and continued his footjob. His toes were starting to feel slick with liquid. He couldn’t see it but imagined her cock was leaking precum by now. It was a mixed blessing, it was gross, but hopefully it would make this ordeal end quicker.

“Come on, hurry up!” Rembrandt whispered in desperation as he moved his feet in rhythm with Crystal’s bucking. She was getting frisky now, her hands viciously molesting his rear end that sent spasms of pain throughout his body. It made his legs week which worked against his end goal. Then he felt his underwear tear.

Crystal was getting too into it. For a brief moment Rembrandt hoped this meant she was stirring but her eyes were still shut tight. She was either still asleep or an amazing actor. If this was a game she was more cruel than he thought and had been lying to him.

He kept working her shaft. She pumped and one of his soles slid under her shaft to cup a hot, fleshy orb. He was now cupping her balls with his foot. He squeezed hoping to force her to orgasm, but instead it encouraged Crystal to fondle him more. This was slowly bringing him to and edge of his own. His boner had not disappeared this entire time. The fondling and motion of her actions was effectively rubbing him off or her stomach as his own prick slickened and slid between the ridges of her abdominal muscles.

Then he was penetrated.

Thankfully not split in half by a dick out of his weight class but by a finger. He squealed and his entire body tightened from the invasion. The shock was so intense he was brought to orgasm! His eruption sprayed onto Crystal and what was left of his underwear. His motion also resulted in him squeezing even tighter on Crystal.

“Gah!” She grunted and jerked forward so hard he flew off of her finally released. He landed on his back between her legs in the perfect position to receive the contents of Crystal’s own release.

Her hot load, markedly more than his own, flew straight up like a geyser before arcing onto his face, chest, hair, and the carpet itself.

Crystal smiled and rolled over on the couch completely satisfied from her nocturnal emission.

“Great.” Rembrandt seethed wiping cum off his mouth. Even asleep she would take advantage of him. Now he needed to shower, do laundry, and rent a carpet cleaner!

 

---

 

There were two handles and two shower heads in Rembrandt’s bathroom. The apartment complex he lived in was older but had retrofits to pass the new regulations put in place over the last few years. People like him were renting more now so housing had to comply to the recent demand. His mother had apparently also installed a removable, adjustable handheld shower nozzle for his convenience. He hated that she’d taken liberties but he had to admit he was grateful for this.

He closed his eyes and tried not to think about things. Tried not to think about what just happened, fried not to think about what would happen, tried not to think about Rachielle. It didn’t work. She would come for him and he doubted Crystal could protect him.

She was tough sure, but physical might didn’t matter. Rachielle had so much influence she often would get her way without having to resort to barbarism. Not that she was incapable of that either. It was more of a hobby for her than a means to an end. She hurt people for fun.

Rembrandt’s touched his side. An old pain, healed months ago, but it still hurt.

He heard the curtain slide open.

“Hey.” Crystal said stepping into the shower completely naked.

Rembrandt paused. He turned his head and blushed instinctively covering his crotch with his hands. “What are you doing?!”

“Showering, duh.” Crystal said turning the handle of the upper shower. A torrent of steaming water poured out onto her body. She liked hot showers apparently and the water temperature was too high for him to tolerate.

“Do you mind?!” Rembrandt snapped huddling close to the wall to avoid the boiling sprays.

“Not at all.” Crystal said continuing to shower. She bent down and grabbed the bottle of body wash he had. It was comically small in her hands. She sniffed it.

“What is this flowery shit?”

“It’s lilac!” Rembrandt hissed.

“Pussy shit.” She grumbled before lathering herself up.

The air hung except for the sound of running water as Crystal cleaned herself. Rembrandt cowered impotently as he watched he soap and lather her breasts. They were large, perky orbs. Her body was toned, defined, strong, and thick. She was bottom heavy, almost spoon shaped with wide strong hips. Curves to die for accented by hard earned muscle. It dawned on Rembrandt this was the first time he’d ever actually seen her naked.

“You just gonna watch or you gonna shower?” Crystal asked.

“I can’t with you here!” He informed.

“You have something to hide?”

Rembrandt glared at her with his hands still covering his crotch.

“Fucking….You’ve seen and sucked my dick at least a dozen times and you’re afraid for me to see you naked!”

She bent down to a knee as close to eye level with him as possible. She didn’t ask, she didn’t order. She just took both his hands in hers and lifted them and him up high. He was completely exposed, hanging in the air by both arms, with scalding hot water hitting his back. He winced in pain.

“It’s too hot!”

She moved on of his hands to meet the other and palmed them both in one of hers to use her free hand to adjust the temperature.

Rembrandt sighed in relief as cooler water soothed his heated back.

“Happy now?” she griped before hardscoping his package.

Rembrandt would have shriveled up in shame if he could. He always told himself he was just slightly below average for his class, it was pointless to compete with the giants. The truth was he was a small man...in every way.

Crystal snorted. “I see why you’re embarrassed.” She taunted.

Rembrandt wanted to die. He could feel her breath on it as she leaned in closer to inspect it and to his horror it rose in the most shameful boner of his lifetime.

“Someone’s a perv.” She grinned. “I’ve been there.”

He felt tears in his eyes.

“Don’t cry.” Crystal huffed in irritation. “It’s a nice shape.”

Was that a compliment? What for.

She started rubbing the length of him with her thumb which was actually comparable in size if not bigger.

“What are you doing?” Rembrandt squealed as jolts a pleasure shook him.

“Thanking you for this morning.” Crystal said.

“I knew you were awake!” Rembrandt snapped.

“I wasn’t but I it’s not exactly hard to figure out what happened. There was evidence everywhere and you left a little puddle on my stomach you twip!”

She continued to stroke him with her thumb as they stared daggers at each other.

“S-sorry!” he relented as she squeezed his cock hard with her thumb and forefinger. She pressed his dick into his chest and forced an orgasm out of him.

“You really are.” Crystal seethed. She let him go now that he was spent and he nearly collapsed. He was forced to hug her thigh to keep on his feet and she actually chuckled at him with a disarmingly sincere smile.

She patted his head. “Now you do me.” She ordered. He turned his head to see a stiff erection looking for attention. Primed and ready for him. She took the body wash and squeezed a dollop onto her cock head.

He looked at her.

She looked back.

Rembrandt sighed. He held his hands up and felt the cold liquid soap poor out onto them. He took a deep breath and grabbed each side of her shaft and started lathering.

“Good boy.” She said.

 

---

 

“A public school? Are you certain?”

“Yes, madam.”

“This is beneath me.” She sighed.

The woman stepped out ot the car her golden hair shining bright in the rays of the afternoon sun. “Pull the car around.” She ordered. “I don’t want to attract any more attention.”

“At once, madam.” He said.

“Keep the engine running, Bertram. This will be quick.

She waited. It was nearly 3:30 in the afternoon and the tide of students were making their way off school grounds but she hadn’t seen him yet.

A few students stopped to admire her. Glances from boys and girls alike. Some even requested a picture. She didn’t blame them. Moths were often attracted to the radiant. It was in their nature to admire her. She almost wished she was still in high school. She could have run of this place within a day. Experience it with him.

She shined the gold button on her lapel. It was the emblem of Preston University where she was a fresh alumni. She was proud of it. Life was more important and she rather provide for him than learn with him. Why did he even bother with it when he had her.

“Rembrandt.” She sighed to herself. “She’d apologize first. Then she’d butcher the bitch that stole him from her.”

“It’s complicated.” It still lingered in her head. She’d need to talk about it at her next session. It shouldn’t bother her this much but it did. That was love after all. She secretly hoped it was a lie. A fabrication to punish her. That she would deserve. But she knew him. He didn’t care about facebook and only changed it to engaged because she’d made him. That meant someone else had made him change it again.

“Rembrandt.” She repeated. He’d run. He’d actually RUN from her! She wasn’t observant enough. She’d pushed him too far, too fast, hadn’t realized his desperation. No longer. She was getting better and showing up now was a sign of her dedication to him. Right? It was. She knew it.

The crowd thinned. Only a few stragglers waiting for rides remained outside. School had to be over right now. She hadn’t seen him.

“Where is he!?” She screeched to herself.

Her phone rang. It was Bertram.

“He’s behind the school, eastern side stairwell.”

“Meet me there.”

“Already waiting, Madame Wanstone. Be warned he’s-”

She hung up on him. She didn’t care what he was doing. They’d been apart too long as it was. She needed to see him.

Her heels clacked against the hard tile with each determined step. She saw Bertram standing at attention by the door in his well maintained black suit and tie. The adamant professional.

“He’s behind the door?”

“Not alone. Three of them. Master Rembrandt and two young women.”

She choked down her rage. Control. She couldn’t afford to make a scene with him near, but later? Who knew.?

Control.

She opened the door. She heard noises. Moans and a slick sound. Grunts.

“Keep going!” A young girl cheered.

A loud grunt. A squelching sound then a gag and labored breathing.

“Good work today.” She heard in a girlish voice with a certain raspiness to it.

“Fuck you.” Rembrandt said.

That was enough! She practically jumped down the stairs and landed with a loud clack. There were indeed three of them. A young girl with raven hair and thick glasses wearing a sweater. She had an odd expression that wasn’t surprise, almost amusement. She was sitting on the safety bars and watching her away from the other two.

The other girl was exposed from the waist down with enraged eyes and an exposed, engorged cock standing high, slick and wet with saliva.

“Who the fuck are you?!” She asked.

She ignored her roaring to go to Rembrandt who was hunched over. His face was red and sweaty. His hair was wild and speckled with white liquid. She’d seen him like this many times. Usually as the result of her own work but today he had been...defiled. Used by someone else. He coughed and looked up. His eyes open wide in shock at the sight of her. He was still afraid. Of course he was.

His mouth quivered. He struggled to speak either from the trauma of what had just happened or from seeing her.

“R-Rachielle?!”

 

The Subjugation of Rembrandt Logan Chapter 8: Taken Away

In her eyes she saw defiance. In her smile she saw arrogance. Her scar was warning, a lesson learned and taught as well.

Rachielle swung her open palm in a wide arc. It hit fast with a glancing blow that stung her palm and left the girl’s cheek red and swollen.

“Rachielle stop!”

She held Rembrandt close to her. She pressed his head against her thigh so he wouldn’t have  to see this. He didn’t understand how dynamics worked between her kind. He cared too much, even about a girl who had been sexually assaulting everyday for over a week. She couldn’t let such flagrant debasement of her property go unpunished. She had to make an example.

Moisture hit her cheek. It slid down to her lips and she touched it with her finger. It came back red.

The girl laughed at her as the same scarlet color ran down the corner of her lip to her chin.

Rachielle’s knuckles popped on her free hand as she formed a fist. She breathed in.

Control.

Her captor was defenseless. She could do nothing in the expertly trained hold of her aid Bertram. He was ex-navy not that it mattered much, his size alone outmatched both of them. She flailed. He just tightened his restraint on her arm, forcing her back onto a knee. Even with her other arm free she could do nothing. Her friend was unconscious.

“How does it feel?” Rachielle asked. “Being powerless, helpless, at the mercy of another?”

No response.

“This is how they feel every minute of everyday.” She continued. “How he feels when you force your disgusting hands upon him!”

“That why he’s so scared of you?” She grinned at her. Insufferable.

Control.

“Christian Hudson.” Rachielle addressed.

“That’s Crystal!” She corrected.

“Christian.” Rachielle touched her cheek with her blood stained finger. “Bertram could break your arm if he wanted to.”

She continued to struggle daring him to cause a fracture.

“But I don’t need that.” Rachielle snapped her finger. Bertram released her.

Before “Crystal” could even get her footing Rachielle pressed her closed fist into the right side of her temple. The girl collapsed onto the ground.

“Rachielle!” Rembrandt cried.

“Quiet!” Rachielle snapped at him. She cupped her mouth. “Sorry, babe! I-I didn’t mean to yell.”

“She’s fine.” Rachielle assured. “Trust me we’re more than capable of taking a punch.”

Almost to prove her point Crystal was already on her feet and seething with hate. Her face was wrinkled and contorted in a har glare. Her scar even seemed to redden and contrast brightly against her dark skin. She was livid.

The girl tried to charge her but Bertram wouldn’t allow the chance of harm to befall his mistress. She was retrained abruptly.

‘I’m taking Rembrandt back.” Rachielle said. “You won’t see him again.”

“He’s mine!” Crystal roared.

“I have been very generous with you today.” Rachielle said calmly. “Take this opportunity and move on.”

Rachielle walked away with Rembrandt in her arms. “I’m happy to have you back.”

She smiled at him as she exited the stairwell. “Things will be different this time. I promise.”

 

---

 

The ride was a silent one. There was tension between them that could be felt without speaking. Rembrandt refused to be held after he’d entered the backseat. He sat across from her instead of sharing the seat Rachielle chose and she was at least respectful enough not to force him. For now.

“I’m sorry.” She said breaking the silence.

Rembrandt chose to look out the window and observe the parallax of houses and building pass by in the afternoon traffic of their commute.

“I know you don’t believe it right now, but I have changed.”

“Funny.” Rembrandt muttered. His mind still flashed visions of Crystal’s bloodied face, her helpless thrashing. “You seem exactly the same to me.”

Rachielle swallowed. “She’s lucky I showed such restraint. I did that for you.”  

“You didn’t have to hurt Crystal!”

“Christian Hudson, was lying to you.” Rachielle informed. “She’s a criminal.”

“You looked her up.” Rembrandt huffed. “Why am I not surprised.”

“Christian Hudson was arrested two years ago for burglary and attempted kidnapping of a minor.”

“What?”

“She was lying and manipulating you, using you.” Rachielle said. “It’s best to distance yourself from her.”

“You’re one to talk.” Rembrandt said. “I often think the very same about you.”

Rachielle flinched. A dark thought passed through her mind. He was open, easy to take, dominate. It would be child’s play. She just had to reach out to him and change his-. She stopped herself.

“Control.” She whispered to herself.

 

---

 

They didn’t head to his apartment. Of course they didn’t. Instead Bertram pulled up to Rachielle’s personal condominium. He’s been there before. It was four stories tall located near the beach in an exclusive community called Pelican Shoals. It was right next to the water so she could have easy access to her yacht.

He refused to be carried to the top floor and walked. This quickly became a hardship as she chose to take the stairs just to spite him. He had to pause mid-flight to catch his breath. Rachielle was happy to stand and wait arms open. Rembrandt pushed past her. He wouldn’t be taken care of. He reminded himself he wasn’t here by choice.

When they finally reached her front door his chest was burning, but he was still standing.

“Bertram have a bath started.” Rachielle ordered.

“At once.” Her aid said before darting off to follow orders.

She took his hand. Held it tight.

“Come with me.”

They looked over the expanse of Pelican Shoals from Rachielle’s veranda. They could see children playing in one of the pools or her property. She subleased the lower levels as one of her many fledgling business ventures.

“I want to share this with you.” Rachielle said. “I want to share everything I have for as long as you can have it.”

He’d heard this before. When she’d proposed.

“Why won’t you let me share it with you?” She bent down and put her hands on his shoulders. Her fingers were strong and slender. Her grip was tight. He felt a jolt of fear as he recalled what they were capable of. They shook. She was trembling.

Her golden hair cascaded down in front of her face. Her lips were quivering. She kissed him.

“Please let me share it with you?” She asked with a tear stained face.

 

---

 

“Ow.” Junie said as her boyfriend tended to the growing bump or her forehead.

“I swear I’ll kill whoever-”

“Calm down.” Junie said. “It’s just a bump.”

“No he’s right!” Crystal snapped. “We need to kill that bitch!”

“You see the size of that butler dude?” Junie asked. “Frikken huge! Good luck with that.”

“I don’t fucking care!” Crystal yelled. She punched a hole in the wall as her only outlet for rage. “She took something from me and I want it back.”

“Is it even worth it?” Junie asked.

Crystal turned at her all anger. Mori stepped between them to protect his girl.

“Rembrandt gives a good bj, but he clearly has baggage.” Junie said pushing her boyfriend aside. “You can always find another boytoy.”

Crystal grit her teeth. “It’s worth it.” She growled.

…

...

“Well okay then!” Junie chirped. “Where do we start!?”

“I-I don’t know.” Crystal admitted. “I don’t know anything about that bitch except her name is Rachielle Wanstone.”

“The Rachielle Wanstone?” Junie asked.

“I guess?” Crystal shrugged. “She famous or something?”

“Or something!” Junie smiled.

 

---

 

“You cut your hair.” Rachielle said as she massaged soapy fingers through Rembrandt’s dark follicles. “You should grow it out again. I thought it was cute.”

“Well I thought it was girly.” Rembrandt replied. They were both naked in Rachielle’s bathroom. “Bathhouse” was more accurate. The room was huge and it seemed impossible to exist on the top floor of a building. The bath alone was the size of a pool and built from smooth cobblestone. The shallow end was deep enough that he had to stand even as Rachielle sat down with her legs wrapped around either side of him. She took a wooden bucket of warm water and dumped it on his head to rinse.

“This is nice.” she said. “I missed this. I missed you.”

“Will you stop!” Rembrandt squealed. His outburst caused water to splash about some hitting Rachielle in the face. “You can’t pretend like nothing happened. We can’t just go back to normal like you didn’t-..like you didn’t.”

Rachielle touched his side. Right underneath his left rib cage. “Does it still hurt?” She rubbed it gently in a circular motion with her index and middle fingers.

“No.” Rembrandt lied.

She squeezed and he flinched.

“It will serve as a reminder….for both of us.” Rachielle whispered into his ear. “Don’t run away from me again.”

He shivered.

“None of that now.” Rachielle cooed into his ear. “I’m not trying to scare you.”

She bit his ear. “In fact I want you to feel good.”

“Rachielle.” Rembrandt whined. She knew his weak spots.

“That barbarian had her hands all over you.” She teased his neck with circular movements with her tongue. “Defiled you.”

She pushed her breasts into his back. He could feel her against him. Her growing intent becoming aware.

“Do you remember my touch?” She breathed into him. “My desire?”

“N-no.” Rembrandt whimpered.

“Then let me remind you.”

 

The Subjugation of Rembrandt Logan Chapter 9: Lingering Feelings

“Swallow.”

Rembrandt did as commanded. It took effort. The taste was unpleasant, bitter, sour, salty. The amount was substantial, more than a mouthful. A stream dribbled down his lips. It was thick, sticky, almost like glue and adhered to his throat. He nearly choked, but he swallowed.

Rachielle had been backed up for sometime.

He coughed spitting up a dollop of white liquid he’d just worked so hard to swallow. “You haven’t-”

“Not since you left.” Rachielle said in recline to her handsome, young fiance. He was nearly eclipsed by the form of her slowly deflating cock standing up above him. “I tried using a whore, but it just didn’t feel right.”

She reached for him and tugged him up to her chest. She let his head rest between her pert breasts. Nice handfuls for someone his size even if they were less than impressive for her own. She considered getting work done, but he said he didn’t care. He liked her the way she was. One of many reasons Rembrandt Logan was a keeper.

“No one else can do what you do for me.” Rachielle sighed in the contentment she that had been withheld from her for over a month.

Rembrandt collapsed between her cleavage. He knew this was coming. There was a reason he’d impressed Junie. He had indeed sucked dick before. That and more. For the better part of a year he’d been run through a gauntlet as his new fiance revealed her sexual proclivities to him. He’d been trained quite expertly in a number of perversions that would eventually culminate in his-....He’d had many reasons to run away.

He was bent over. Forced to lay on his forearms and elbows as Rachielle rose up to her knees. She took his lower body with him a leg in each hand. She stroked them and began nipping at his toes. It was clear she was eager to pick up where they had left off.

“W-what are you doing?!” Rembrandt panicked as she began sucking his toes. Her left hand ran down the length of his matching leg and grabbed a handful of soft flesh.

“You have such nice legs!” Rachielle chirped. “And this ass is the best I’ve ever seen!”

He felt her nails dig into his right cheek and squeeze. She pulled and his legs spread wider. Part of his hole was exposed.

“Rachielle don’t!” he started flailing.

*Smack*

A stinging palm hit his cheek causing it to rose up.

“It turns such a nice red.” Rachielle commented. “Your skin is lovely. Snowy white. Like the princess!”

“Rachielle I’m not ready for this!” Rembrandt insisted.

“Will you relax.” Rachielle hissed. “You’re ruining the mood. I’m not gonna take your cherry tonight. That is if it’s still there. Just checking to make sure that street trash didn’t steal my prize.”

Rembrandt could only imagine the rage Rachielle would feel if he revealed how close her “prize had come to being claimed not by Crystal but a blonde, locker, meathead. Jericho would be dead. He almost laughed. Jericho seemed so far away now. He almost wished that guy was still his biggest worry.

Her other hand was on his rear now. Both held handfuls of tight yet pliant cushion. He was spread even wider.

“Still looks tight.” Rachielle commented. “No one’s been deep diving my man?”

“No!” Rembrandt cried. “Now will you stop!”

“Hmmm.” Rachielle leaned closer towards his precious hole. Inspecting it’s wrinkles, pressing her nose against it. It smelled clean with the scent of the fragrant oils of their bath water. He probed the edge with her index finger causing her love to squeal.

“That hurts!” he whined as she tugged at the rim. It resisted just as much as she remembered. She removed her finger and it snapped closed again and puckered up.

No. He hadn’t been penetrated. Either that or he was made out of rubber, which might be worth it!

“I believe you!” Rachielle said releasing him. She let herself fall on top of him pressing him against the weight of her mattress with her body. She slid her length between the crease of his cheeks and began slowly humping.

“R-rachielle.” Rembrandt stuttered.

It was so hot when he did that. She wanted nothing more than to hear his broken voice crack and moan all night. She continued grinding letting the hard mass of her cock rub up and down the bare skin of his back. It was delightfully smooth. He trembled in meager resistance. That was the best part. He was sheltered, insecure, he hated perversion and naturally fought against his own sexual instincts. She loved coaxing out his sexuality and bringing it to the forefront.

“I won’t wait forever.” She cooed to him before sucking at the side of his face. She hoped to mark him. Her old hickeys had faded in the time he’d been away. Her teeth marks, unformed, her scratches healed…….Her bruise….the fracture...mended. It all needed replacing.

Control.

He needed to ask for it. She couldn’t force it on him. Not if she wanted to prove she’d changed.

He went onto her back and pulled him with her. He was held tight as she ran her cock under his and slid it up right beneath his shaft. They were right next to each other and the size difference was adorable. Her own member eclipsed his much like her size did. A unique taste that he satisfied for her. She knew the appeal of well maintained and muscled he-men with pecs and chiseled jaws. She could have her pick of men’s fitness and underwear models, athletes and actors. They rarely measured up to her, and when they did, they didn’t last. The literal dick measuring contest wasn’t worth it. Men had such fragile egos, but not her Rembrandt.

She pinched his nipple and he let out such a high pitched squeal her tenants would swear she was dicking down a Singapore street walker. Did he know how girly he sounded? His moans were almost addicting.

No traditional male values didn’t apply to Rembrandt, they didn’t matter to him either, or even fit him to begin with. She would make him-......suggest he grow his hair out again.

“They look so cute together.” Rachielle commented. Her dick rubbed under his leaking out precum.

“This is embarrassing.” He moaned.

“You love it.” Rachielle hummed in his ear. She took his cock and hers in on hand and started stroking both of them in tandem to another orgasm. Her second and his first. A nice start but there was more to come this night. She had been without for too long.

 

---

 

Rachielle Wanstone was a trendsetter, a social media icon, a maverick, an actress and model, had her own fashion line, fragrance, businesses. Her father was a senator, her mother was a talk show host. Rachielle Wanstone represented almost everything Crystal hated.

Privilege and success without earning it, because of what she was born into. Did the girl even know what the word struggle meant?

Now she had Rembrandt.

“Look,” Junie said showing a picture of Rachielle on the cover of “Time” magazine. The cover story was of the top bachelors and bachelorettes under thirty. Another magazine, number 10 on “People” magazine’s sexiest people. A Forbes article naming her one of the top rising stars of the millenium.

“I get it!” Crystal sighed. “She’s fucking amazing!”

“You should really follow her twitter!” Junie said. “She went skydiving into an active volcano and filmed it!”

“Junie, that’s not helping!”

Crystal fell backward onto Junie’s living room sofa. She’d chosen to stay the night at her friends to research and brainstorm. It wasn’t working.

“This isn’t working.” Crystal sighed. “How do I even compete with that? I don’t even know if he’s coming back to school again.”

“I dunno.” Junie shrugged. She started removing her socks and went rummaging through her sock drawer. “But we can at least do our nails while you lament.”

 

---

 

“I won’t allow it!” Rachielle yelled.

“I don’t care what you will allow!” Rembrandt screamed back.

“No!” Rachielle slammed her hands into the wooden table that held their early morning meal. It shattered under her strength and temper. I”m not letting you walk around that school for that floozy to paw at! I won’t have it!”

Rembrandt stepped back from the shattered table.

“Dammit.” Rachielle cursed to herself. She stood up from her chair and went to comfort Rembrandt but he wouldn’t have it. He practically jumped away at her first step. “Remy I-”

“I don’t want to hear it!” he snapped. “This is my choice and if you want this to work you have to start respecting that! Actually show me that you’ve changed instead of just talking about it.”

Rachielle saw red. “You tiny, simpering, little, twink! I do so much for you and -” She stopped herself.

Control.

“Fine. Go.” She muttered. She snapped her finger and Bertram appeared.

“Send up housekeeping.” She said before storming off to her room.

“At once, madam.”

Rembrandt was surprised. One broken table was progress for Rachielle. He’d once seen her chuck a car into the foundation of this very condominium when she found the contractors working off an old blueprint. Hundreds of thousands of dollars wasted because someone forgot to forward an email. One broken table. Maybe she was trying to change.

Rachielle let out a frustrated breath and clutched her face so tight it was painful. She was trying to punish herself for nearly blowing it. How could she not?! She knew what he was doing! Why would he want to go back to that school, back to that witch? She had her claws in him.

She couldn’t allow that, but she also couldn’t force her will on Rembrandt. She didn’t want him to feel like a prisoner. She’d made that mistake once already. No this required a more nuanced form of manipulation. She had all weekend to come up with a plan.

 

---

 

Crystal spent her Saturday morning at Rembrandts apartment ransacking the place with Junie for any sign of anything. Maybe an address where Rachielle lived , a number, anything.

“Well his facebook page says she lives at Pelican Shoals.” Junie announced as Crystal looked under his couch.

“How did you get in.”

“He password was his birthday!” She laughed. “What a loser!”

Crystal smacked the back of Junie’s head.

“So what now?” Junie asked. “We know where she lives but Pelican is a ritzy place. You can’t just kick down the gate or hop the fence like this dump.”

“Shit.” Crystal cursed. “I wish I could just kick her ass and be done with it.”

She didn’t have any options. Rachielle wasn’t someone you just beat in a fight. She had money, access, resources. She didn’t have any of those things. Even if she were to beat Rachielle in a fist fight no prediction of that outcome seemed like anything more than a waste of time.

“He’s friends with his mom!” Junie laughed. “What a dork!”

“What?” Crystal asked to herself.

“He only has like three friends and him mom is one of them.” Junie informed.

Crystal’s mind flashed with the spark of an idea. She practically pushed Junie off the chair she was sitting in and started typing in desperation. This was the slimmest of chances but it was the only play she could think of.

 

The Subjugation of Rembrandt Logan Chapter 10: The Prize

Rembrandt held his phone. He’d already dialed the number, he just had to press call.

But doing that...would be admitting defeat.

He had no illusions of what his actions meant.

It meant he was giving up. Admitting defeat. He would exchange one form of confinement for another.

But he was confined. Any glimpse of freedom he’d attained had been snatched away as soon as Rachielle had found him again. He was now in her home, under her domineering heel. He wouldn’t make it easy for her. He wouldn’t live with her.

He wouldn’t let her win.

He pressed send.

He heard the call tone.

“*Yawn*….Honey?...It’s four in the morning! Are you okay? Are you hurt?!”

“Mom….” Rembrandt took a breath. “I’m ready to come home.”

 

---

 

“What the hell are you doing?!” Rachielle yelled as Rembrandt was guided into his mother’s Jaguar by a guard. “Get your filthy hands off him!”

She slugged the guard: a hard jawed man  twice her size, with a snake tattoo on his neck, hard in the stomach. He doubled over and vomited in Rachielle’s driveway.

“You’re cleaning that up!” Rachielle said stepping on and over his face with the heel of her stiletto.

Velvette sighed and shook her head at the sight of her most trusted security guard face first in his own regurgitation.

“Jose.” she facepalmed. He was adept at intimidation and protocol but he’d been almost useless in a fight since his vow of pacifism. Why’d he have to find religion in prison?

“Step aside!” Rachielle roared at her.

Velvette just smirked from her position between Rachielle and her son. She was almost even to Rachielle when the girl had her heels on. Still taller, but only by a fraction, not that size mattered so much to someone like the delightfully dangerous Ms. Wanstone.

“Honestly, hun. This is rather unbecoming of you.” Velvette said not moving an inch. “Would you really impede a mother in her duties?”

Rachielle bit her lip. “I’ll move you if I have to...mother.”

Velvette tingled a little at that flattering title. “Not quite yet dear.” She put a hand on Rachielle’s shoulder and squeezed. To the girl’s credit she didn’t flinch. “You’re welcome to try.”

Rachielle grit her teeth. Clenched her fist.

This fight would have to happen eventually. Velvette wouldn’t be the matriarch of her family forever. Might as well start planting those seeds now.

“Rachielle!” Rembrandt screamed.

She stopped herself.

Control.

“Enough!” He said jumping out the car and scurrying between the thick, stocking covered legs of his mother. “You really think I’d marry someone willing to hit my mother?!”

She froze.

“Remy I-”

“No, shut up!” He barked. “I’m going home! That’s final!”

Both women seemed momentarily stunned by his sudden outburst. Velvette’s shock grew into a wide smile.

“My darling baby boy!” She squealed, seizing him and peppering him in more of her daringly taboo-esque kisses. “You love your momma so much don’t you!? Yes you do! She loves you too! Oh if only you weren’t-”

“Mother, stop!” He yelled. “Put me down!”

His command didn’t dissuade her in the slightest and she continued to fondle him for a few more precious moments in a variety of ways that made everyone there a few shades redder with either envy or embarrassment. Everyone except her that is. Rembrandt’s former commanding presence devolving to that of a whining child by the moment. Only once she was satisfied did she release him, ruffling his hair as she did.

“You can visit Rembrandt this afternoon.” Velvette stated before strapping him into his car seat.

“Mom!” he snapped. “I’m not sitting in this!”

“And I’m not letting you die because you’re stubborn!” She snapped back. “It’s the law!”

It was but Rembrandt was also just an inch above the legal size for riding without one, a great source of debate between the two of them. Most modern cars already had the required seat belts installed, but she refused to special order for her custom jaguar and-.

“Rembrandt!” Rachielle called to him. She opened the door and took his face in her hand. She forced a kiss on him that he eventually accepted. “I’ll see you this afternoon. We’ll catch a movie. I love you.”

Rembrandt didn’t have words for the mixed emotions that ran threw him.

‘How precious!” Velvette commented. “Jose, start the car!”

 

---

 

“And your sister Violet is home again!” Velvette prattled on. “She caught Dwayne with his pants around his waist and his cock in the mouth of a teenager! The pool boy! Can you believe it!?”

“No mother.” Rembrandt droned.

` “We went shopping to help her vent. Even bought you a few tasteful outfits!”

Rembrandt’s dread only grew. He may have looked exactly like his mother, but his oldest sister Violet acted like her! Even at age 27 she idolized their mother. Velvette and Violet were a nightmare team of debasement of all kinds. He wouldn’t have a moment of breathing room.

“And of course Bradley and Brittany though they’ll probably be busy with school.” His two younger siblings. Fraternal twins. They were actually nice, even if they did bully him a little. He didn’t blame them since it was almost natural considering they were already taller at ten than he would ever be. They were still young enough not to know they didn’t have to respect him. Still a silver lining to living at home. He missed them.

“What about..Connor?” Rembrandt asked. His oldest brother. The oldest of all of them, ahead of Violet by sixteen months. The next in line.

“Busy.” Velvette grumbled audibly upset at just hearing his name. “Thankfully.”

Rembrandt said nothing.

“There’s also a few nice surprises you might enjoy.” Velvette informed.

Rembrandt didn’t like the sound of that. Velvette considere shared bathing a “nice surprise”.

 

---

 

“Have some movers start relocating the furniture.” Velvette told Jose.

They walked into the grand hall at the front of the Logan Manor. Built in the roaring 20”s this home had survived the institution of estate tax and the wrecking ball to be passed down from Rembrandt’s grandfather. An heirloom of the Gilded Age. While it technically belonged to his father’s old money, his mother’s new money paid for its upkeep.

The floor was an intricate mandala tiled out of pieces of hand carved black and white marble. It was cleaned and polished everyday to a sparkling finish. A welcoming example of the unashamed opulence his family held.

It made him sick.

Rembrandt appreciated the wealth his family had and the lives his parent’s success provided but it also made him feel ashamed. It was too much, suffocating. He’d preferred his life amongst the “unwashed” as his mother put it. Even though she’d grown up at the poverty line she had little respect for anyone who hadn’t achieved the same as her. All the while hypocritically spoiling her children to the point of never knowing what want felt like.

That’s why she’d taken a shine to Rachielle. Another self made success with a penchant for spoiling him. Although Rembrandt always furrowed his brow at the idea of “self made”. People like Rachielle, like his mother. It was hard to imagine them ever suffering. Maybe that’s what people thought of him?

“Brad!” echoed a young voice. High pitched, slight lisp, sunny but with a tint of annoyance. “Where did you hide the remote!?”

Steps and a gust of wind. A halt.

The sound of rubber squeaking against tile. Like sneakers on a basketball court.

She had ear length brown hair lightened by their father’s blonde genetics. Her face was round and slightly chubby. Like it was trying to catch up with the rest of her body which had thinned out considerably in the month he’d been away. Her shirt and skirt were very loose on her now while also being a size too short exposing her thighs when they used to go past her knees.

A gasp.

“Rembrandt!”

He was tackled hard onto the cold floor by his younger sister. Brittany being ten only had about a foot on him if that. Puberty hadn’t set in but she was still a bit stronger and heavier than he was. That meant hitting the floor hurt!

“Brit, please.”

“I thought you moved out!” she said hugging him. “Brad! Brad! Rembrandt’s back!”

“Brittany be careful!” their mother chastised.

“Sorry.” she cringed upon realizing how easily she’d flattened her older brother. She picked him up off the floor.

Rembrandt did a double take. Was that a foot she had on him or a foot and a half?

“You’ve grown.” he commented.

“You think?” She smiled with an oblivious head tilt. She was missing a tooth. Her last stubborn baby tooth had fallen.

“Don’t lie!” Came another shout. The voice cracked and fell an octave near the end as if fighting with what it was and what it was becoming.

Bradley was almost identical to Brittany. The only real difference was his darker brown hair from his mother’s genetics. This difference had encouraged preferential treatment from each parent respectively.

“Rem?” He said almost hesitant. Like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing or that he was having trouble recognizing him. Bradley was the quiet one, more quiet even than himself. Rembrandt and Brittany were the only one’s he’d talk more than a few words too. It probably hurt him when Rembrandt fled. “Rem!”

Rembrandt’s hand was clutched in Bradley’s larger, stronger one. In form with his twin he’d grown an equal amount in the last month.

“You gotta try this new game I downloaded!” he beamed.

In that moment Rembrandt was practically abducted by his two siblings and whisked off to untold shenanigans of innocence.

Velvette was left disappointed.

Her phone rang.

“Hmm?Yes. He’s here.”

“No. Not yet. Let him have his fun first.”

 

---

 

Rembrandt watched in horror as Scorpion’s head was impaled by his own crystalized blood. His eyeball pierced through his skull by the crimzon spear in slow motion high fidelity.

:Scarlet Wins!” Said the announcer.

“That sucked.” Rembrandt grumbled.

“You suck at fighting games!” Brittany commented brushing him aside to take his controller.

“Aren’t you two a little young for this game?”

The twins both laughed at him before starting another match.

“Enough playtime.” Violet announced intruding on her youngest children’s shared room and fun. “Rembrandt has things to do.”

“What things?” He asked indignantly.

“Clean yourself up for one!” his mother commented. “You stink, all three of you do. We have a guest coming today and I believe you have an appointment with Rachielle.”

“Oooooh!” his twins gasped, Brittany even making a kissy face.”

That means you two need to wash up as well and put on decent clothes!”

They both whined but complied.

 

---

 

“Maybe the purple tie?” Violet scratched her chin. She was a “thicc” woman with the same assets as her mother only more shapely if that was even possible. The effects of gravity hadn’t had as much time to tug at her breasts or ass, as little as they had effected Velvetter herself. Her hair was blonde, and if Rembrandt was his mother’s reverse gender clone, Violet was their fathers.

Her chin was squared and strong, she had defined cheekbones and wide shoulders. Most thought she was a boy until her figure came in.

Rembrandt was laid bare with nothing protecting his modesty from the critical eyes of his mother and older sister. They were planning his wardrobe and he’d changed outfits at least five times in the last half hour.

He’d be embarrassed to be naked in front of two amazons scrutinizing every aspect of his appearance but this had been his life since he could walk. Probably before that but he couldn’t remember that far back.

“No the red.” Velvette said. “It will match her lipstick.”

“Well she can changer her lipstick!” Violet argued.

“It’s not the right season for purple!” Velvette stated.

“Purple is more unique!” Violet said back. “Anyone can wear red. You want to make a statement. Purple is the color of royalty.”

“Red is the color of power!” Velvette added. “That’s making a statement.”

“Uhhh. I like green.” Rembrandt commented.

“No!” they both denied.

This continued for the next hour.

 

---

 

He was finally dressed. It was a full three piece suit with a magenta tie that was the compromise his mom and sister had reached. It was too much. He was just meeting with Rachielle to go on a date, a movie. A simple affair and he was now overdressed for it. He had to wonder why they had gone to all the trouble. He waited for her at the top of the stairs of his home.

This is why he hated being home. It was always a production when it came to him. He was spoiled beyond belief and it became quite tiring.

“You look good.” Violet commented. “Cute.” She pressed her chest into his shoulder and kissed his neck. She wasn’t as affectionate as his mother but she still coddled him. “I hope this girl appreciates it.”

“It’s just Rachielle.” Rembrandt said. Why would anyone think she wouldn’t. They all knew her. His families had deep ties with the Wanstones. He’d known Rachielle since he was a kid and she’d been courting him for nearly as long. “Why are you even bothering with all this?” Wasn’t it pretty much a done deal at this point?

“Hmmph.” Violet smiled. “You give me the detes when your date’s over.” she kissed him again and groped his crotch. “The juicy ones. Not some boring over the shirt action.”

The doorbell rang.

When the door opened he expected Rachielle to walk through, but instead it was someone he didn’t recognize. He couldn’t see them well from his position at the top of the stairs but they were wearing a dark jacket. It was a woman.

“Rembrandt don’t leave half of your date waiting.” Velvette chortled.

Rembrandt nearly tripped rushing down the stairs.

She was wearing a black leather jacket with silver buttons, the same biker gloves she always wore only polished to a shine, a deep red low cut top that exposed her defined midriff, tight hip hugging dress pants with open legs, dark grey gold studded high heel boots. Magenta lipstick. She’d cut her hair.  High and tight. Nearly shaved on one side. Rebellious.

“Crystal?”

“It’s..”

“Christian, honey.” His mom chimed in. “Christian Hudson Jr.”

Crystal blushed. “I-”

“Have a lot of explaining to do.” Rembrandt finished.

“Have formally expressed my interest to your mother for future partnership.” She corrected.

“Mom! What did you do!?” Rembrandt asked.

“Not a thing.” Velvette huffed. “She called me!”

“Can we start over?” Crystal asked. “So you can get to know the real me.”

“Crystal or...Christian Hudson Jr.?”

“That’s Crystal for you, bitch boy!” She smiled. “Never Christian.”

“What the fuck is this?!” Rachielle yelled. She barged into the Logan home in a scathing magenta dress that matched her increasingly red skin color. Her bright blonde hair was flying behind her from the momentum of her steps or possibly the force of her own rage.

“And the other half of your date!” Velvette smiled.

Rembrandt instantly understood what was happening. His mom had played one or both of these young women. Standard operating procedure for anyone who knew her more than a month. Crystal could claim victimhood but Rachielle probably should have known better, or perhaps he should’ve. He’d just been played too.

He was the prize in a game between these two. A game his mother had just created. She loved him too much and desired nothing more than for everyone to understand his worth. Fight for him like men had fought for her. A perverse mixture of overprotective love and narcissistic ego stroking.

For once in his life Rembrandt wished his father were home.

“You kids make sure to have fun tonight!” Velvette smiled.

“You’re not ready for this street trash.” Rachielle hissed.

“It’s cute how tough you’re acting without your bodyguard here to back you up.” Crystal commented. “I think I owe you a punch to the face. You’ll be collecting that soon.”

“Rembrandt, come on!” Both women ordered.

Rembrandt gulped.

 

The Subjugation of Rembrandt Logan Chapter 11: Double D

“Let’s get one thing clear.” Rachielle said unprompted. “This.” She pointed her finger between Rembrandt and Crystal. “Is not happening. I will not allow it.”

“Who are you to “allow” anything?” Crystal challenged.

“His fiance.” Rachielle stated matter of factly. “His best friend for years. I’ve put in too much work and too much time to have MY man snatched away by the first brutish ape of the street with a playground infatuation.”

“It’s not an infatuation.” Crystal grit.

“Hey. I get it!” Rachielle exclaimed. “You can’t find a quality guy like Rembrandt on the streets! Someone willing to suck a dick as good as he gets! Someone who won’t get embarrassed when you’re bigger or judge you because they refuse to understand. Plus he has a tight ass and tender skin! Maybe you’ll find someone someday..Someone else!”

Rembrandt was made to blush by Rachielle’s candid critique of him. He never thought he was that special, in fact he often felt emasculated for not conforming to the masculine stereotype like his brothers had.

Rachielle stepped up taking Rembrandt to her side. She bent down to let her golden hair fall over his face and kissed at his neck.

“He’s mine.” She said with a toothy smile. “Now and forever.”

She rose to check Crystal in the shoulder. “Step off.”

Crystal closed her eyes. Rachielle wasn’t wrong.

She stepped forward and checkmated Rachielle via her fist to the blonde’s face.

“Looks like you collected a little earlier than I thought.” Crystal smiled. She collected a Rembrandt whose mouth was agape, clearly more stunned than Rachielle was.

“Time for me to make things clear.” She said to him. “I’m not looking to date you, this isn’t just a crush.”

“Then what is it?” Rembrandt gulped.

Crystal kissed his cheek where Rachielle had. “The biggest risk I’ve ever taken.”

Rachielle wiped her lip where Crystal had struck her. It wasn’t bleeding or even swollen. A love tap. Just a show of force to prove she wasn’t messing around. She’d nearly fallen for the bait.

Control.

She had to let this one go. She couldn’t retaliate with Rembrandt right there. Well she could but it would break the foundation she was just starting to rebuild with him.

She stayed silent, walking in line with them. Her on the right, Rembrandt in the middle and Crystal on the left.

“This should be a very exciting day.” Rachielle commented.

 

---

 

“Hop on.” Crystal ordered.

Rembrandt followed the instinct that had been ingrained in him over the last week and obediently took his seat behind Crystal on her motorbike.

“Don’t sit down!” Rachielle ordered.

He started to sit up forgetting himself.

“Sit!” Crystal ordered.

Rembrandt was caught. His brain crashed at the conflicting commands. He was used to just listening to the woman in his life, he wasn’t sure what to do when given two conflicting orders. He decided he’d sit down first, then stand back up and wait for-

“Christ!” Rachielle said picking Rembrandt up off her bike. “I’m not letting you ride on that death machine. You’ll be in my car, obviously!”

“Who says!?” Crystal snapped. “I’m just supposed to follow you or something?”

“Or you could go home!” Rachielle suggested. “No one asked you to be here anyway!”

“OR, maybe you can-”

“Stop!” Rembrandt shouted. “Enough.”

He fished out his phone and made a quick call to his mom.

They were using her limo.

 

---

 

They were stuck in traffic. The limo had been at a halt for so long it felt like they’d save time walking to the theatre. It was quiet and tense in the back of the car. Rembrandt sat across from Rachielle and Crystal who leaned against opposite windows. They had fought over seating position forcing Rembrandt to sit alone.

“Christian.”

Crystal flinched.

“What’s that about?” Rembrandt asked.

“What it’s about is that “she’s” a liar and a criminal.” Rachielle said using air quotes. “I have enough class to respect your gender but I have no patience for liars.”

Crystal ground her teeth. It was taking all her composure not to attack Rachielle, but Rembrandt beat her too it.

He shot her the hardest glare she’d ever seen. She wasn’t aware he was capable of making a face that dark.

“YOU of all people should understand!” He hissed. “I can’t believe you’d even be this horrible.”

Rachielle huffed but said nothing.

“Crystal.” Rembrandt looked at her expectantly.

“.....”

“My name is...Christian Hudson Jr. Name after my father Christian Hudson.” She started. “It says male on my birth certificate. The doctor’s thought I was a boy when I was born and so did I for the first four years of my life.”

No one spoke but Rembrandt did lean in closer to pay attention. It was a small movement but it gave Crystal a little more confidence to continue this personal story in the company of someone she hated.

“I noticed I was different when I was five. I told my parents when I was ten.” Crystal continued. “My mother understood, but my father...didn’t. He made the rules in the family and he wouldn’t allow it.”

“That’s terrible.” Rembrandt exclaimed.

“Oh please!” Rachielle scoffed. “You can’t be falling for this! Everyone has a sob story these days.”

“My daddy was mean to me!” Rachielle cried in a mocking tone. “She’s still a criminal Rembrandt. She has a record. Kidnapping!”

Crystal bit her lip. She had more to say but she wouldn’t speak of it in front of Rachielle. Let the bitch jump to her own conclusions. She didn’t deserve an explanation.

“Let her talk.” Rembrandt insisted.

“I’ve said enough.” Crystal spat. “My mother divorced him. I’m away from that asshole now or at least….”

The limo started moving again.

“Finally!” Rachielle huffed.

The rest of the trip was silent.

 

---

 

The Stone Grand theatre was in the nicest part of town. A throwback to the classic theatres of old restored and owned by the Wanstone family. Owned by Rachielle. One of her early profitable acquisitions that cemented her as an promising up and coming future dynasty.

“I’m actually really looking forward to this one!” Rembrandt awed at the movie poster. The film he’d chosen was called “The Littlest Warrior Part 3” It was about a tiny knight struggling to save a world of giants. The commentary and comparison was obvious. Still, Crystal found it very endearing to see the little man genuinely excited about something. It was a stark difference to the moody and pessimistic Rembrandt she seen so far.

“I didn’t know you liked movies.” Crystal commented. She’d never asked before and was starting to regret that. She hadn’t cared as much before.

“You wouldn't.” Rachielle sneered. “You’ve only known him for a week.”

She ushered Rembrandt into the theatre cutting a line between him and Crystal.

“I have our private room all setup.” She assured him walking in past an usher.

Crystal followed only to be stopped.

“Ticket.” The usher demanded.

Crystal wasn’t surprised.

“I don’t do charity.” Rachielle said with a smug smile. “This is a business after all.. Ticket booths that way.”

She pointed outside where a considerable line had formed. “Hope you make it in time for the previews!”

 

---

 

“That was mean.” Rembrandt commented from his seat in her private theatre. He had a seat of his own right next to her and a bucket of popcorn half his size on the lap of his pinstripe dress pants.

“Please.” Rachielle dismissed. “I know she’s poor but even she can afford an eight dollar movie ticket!”

“Then it was petty.”

“I can live with it.” She said. “I have a right to be petty when it comes to you.”

She took a seat right next to him, cornering him. She put her arm around his shoulder and nuzzled his head against her shoulder.

“Ahem.” Crystal coughed interrupting the moment.

“Can I help you?” Rachielle asked facetiously.

“My seat?”

“Right there.” Rachielle nodded at the seat next to her. The seat away from Rembrandt. “Be grateful. Not everyone gets the privilege of private screenings.”

“Please don’t start fighting.” Rembrand said. “I’ll sit in the middle.”

He stood up and waited for Rachielle to move. She groaned but took his old sit.

He smiled satisfied to have diffused the situation.

“So what’s this movie about?” Crystal asked.

It’s the third in a quadrilogy of fantasy novels by I.I.!” He beamed. “They’re modern day classics!”

“I.I.?”

“She’s a novelist!” Rembrandt explained. “I met her once….well at a book signing. She signed my set of Lights of Seasons series. Her stories are so great! And she’s small like me!I can’t believe they’re getting made into movies.”

“They’re a little redundant.” Rachielle commented. “Always about a plucky tiny overcoming adversity to save the day.”

“That’s not true!” Rembrandt argued. “It’s about comradery and little and big people working together. Equality and empathy. Like in the Little warrior wouldn’t be anything without her group which includes giants! They’re working together to save the world from being turned to stone! In this one-” Rembrandt stopped himself.

“In this one what?”

“I don’t want to spoil it for you.” Rembrand said.

 

---

 

The theatre was dark cept tor the light of the screen.

Crystal was genuinely surprised by the movie. She’d gone in knowing nothing and had gotten surprisingly invested by what she assumed was the halfway point. The stakes were rising, Belmandy Cross, the titular “Little Warrior”’s boyfriend just died. He was a giant under the curse and had just turned to stone preventing a cave in from collapsing on Bel and her group. It was touching especially since he would’ve lived if he’d stayed with his clan and gotten treatment to fight the curse, but he couldn’t be apart from her. He worried, and his sacrificed had saved their lives and possibly the world.

She turned to find Rembrandt was completely engrossed. In fact he was even shedding tears at the noble hero’s sacrifice. That’s when she noticed Rachielle from the corner of her eye.

She was eyeing Rembrandt up and down. Not at all invested in the movie. Her hand moved around Rembrandt’s shoulder and he started stroking his head. He didn’t even seem to notice.

Crystal wasn’t going to allow that. She made a move of her own. She took his hand in hers and moved towards her chest.

He only slightly noticed this and gave her a confused smile before returning to his movie.

Rachielle was visibly upset. She upped the ante by taking his head and moving toward her. Rembrandt was now leaning on her shoulder. She then snatched his hand and placed it in her lap.

Rembrandt did notice this and seemed taken aback.

“Shhh.” She quieted. “Just enjoy your movie baby.” She smiled wickedly, then kissed him on the lips. He settled.

“Bullshit.” Crystal whispered. She stood up.

Thanks to Rachielle movement, Rembrandt was only just barely occupying his seat to lean against her. That was enough room for Crystal to force herself underneath him. He jumped slightly in surprise to find himself now snugly in Crystal’s lap.

“Comfortable.” She mewled as she set him in snugly and wrapped her arms around his waist.

“How dare you!” Rachielle gasped.

“Ladies, please can we just-”

Rachielle tugged him out of Crystal’s clutches and cradled him to her. She gave Crystal a look that said “Back off.”

“You immature bitch!” Crystal hissed.

“Look who’s talking!”

“You started it!”

I didn’t start anything.” Rachielle denied. “It’s only natural for a woman to get cosy with her lover. You’re a third wheel!”

“I’m a threat!” Crystal commented. “That’s why you’re being so childish about this! You just can’t admit that you’re scared of me!”

“Stop!” Rembrandt yelled. He forced himself out of Rachielle’s grasp.

“I can’t believe either of you!” He snapped. “You two are both so stubborn and jealous, and immature, that you can’t even watch a movie together?!”

“Remy I-” Crystal started.

‘I’m going to the bathroom!” He cutoff. “Don’t follow me!...BOTH of you!”

“Nice going.” Rachielle commented.

“Bitch.” Crystal said.

 

---

 

Rembrandt splashed his face with cold water.

This was getting very frustrating. Unlike his mother he didn’t have the ego to find amusement in people fighting over him. He didn’t want a suite of suitors and he was finding out that playing the field quickly turned ugly.

He still hadn’t forgiven Rachielle and wasn’t sure he could trust Crystal. She had coerced him into their relationship to start with. They both treated him like property in different ways. Maybe he should be done with both of them.

Just the thought of that hurt. He’d known Rachielle since he was a child and emotions were hard leave behind. He’d been resolute when he’d escaped her, but being back around her was bring back old feelings. He was able to rely on her once and part of him wanted to again.

Crystal was new. He’d initially despised her and her selfishness, her cavalier attitude. The way she’d decided he was hers from the beginning, like it was inevitable. They why did he like it so much!? He knew he was a sub at heart, Rachielle had awoken that revelation in him, but he couldn’t fight what he wanted. She’d also shown a surprisingly vulnerability recently. Why had she even shown up at his mother’s front door. Making a deal with her was one with the devil. She must have something to offer or his mother wouldn’t humor her presence. What was that “risk” she’d implied earlier.

The door opened.

“I said don’t follow me!” he yelled.

“Didn’t hear you.” Crystal informed. She was lying since he’d known he’d shouted at her.

The door swung open and Rachielle followed suite. “No way was I allowing her to be alone with you.”

“This is ridiculous.” Rembrandt said. “I’m not going to tolerate you two fighting over me. I’m not worth the pain.”

“Hear that?” Rachielle directed toward Crystal. “He’s saying step off before you get hurt. You have nothing to offer here.”

“More than you.” Crystal replied.

Rachielled scoffed. “You have nothing! You’re barely above the poverty line and Rembrandt can’t enjoy being touched by such an ugly and brutish ogre such as you!”

“You have no idea what he’s enjoyed.” Crystal taunted. “If you ever did!” She cupped her crotch lewdly to insult her.

Rembrandt didn’t like where this topic was going.

“I’m leaving.” He said making a move past them. He was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re not going anywhere.” Rachielle said. “I’m not about to be insulted like this. We can’t let this go.”

“We aren’t insulted!” Rembrandt said. “You’re just falling for her bait.”

“You love the way I make you feel don’t you?!” Rachielle asked desperately. She picked him up under his arms and embraced him. “I know I felt something when we were together last night!”

“I-”

“Now you’re just being pathetic.” Crystal commented. “If he actually enjoyed you, you wouldn’t have to ask!”

“Listen-”

“I don’t have to ask!” Rachielle barked. She put Rembrandt on the floor dangerously close to her crotch. A hint of a bulge was forming beneath her magenta dress. “Rembrandt!”

He looked up at her as her bulge grew into a mount pressing out the fabric.

She didn’t honestly expect him to do anything in front of Crystal did she?

“I’m not doing that.” He said. “I’m not going to-”

“See!” Crystal laughed. “He’s embarrassed for you!”

Rachielle lifted her skirt letting her formidable wood out into the open.

“Crystal stop taunting-” He was cut off by Rachielle firm prick pressed against his mouth.

“Rrchhlll!” He gurgled.

“I know it’s embarrassing.” She cooed softly. “Just put up with it for a little bit so that someone can understand that I’m the only one that can please you.”

Rembrandt forced his mouth away from her. “Are you crazy!?” he shrieked.

“She thinks I can’t please you!” Rachielle accused.

“You can’t!” Crystal said. “Look at you! You’re forcing yourself on him! You’re practically a rapist! I’ve only known Remy a little while but I never had to force anything.”

Rembrandt saw the swell growing in her dark pants. Things were going to far.

“You can’t prove that.” Rachielle commented.

Crystal glared daggers at her then moved her fingers toward her zipper.

“Crystal don’t!” Rembrandt pleaded hoping this wouldn’t escalate further.

She dropped her pants revealing her own prominent hard on.

 

---

 

Rembrandt couldn’t think as he choked on Rachielle’s cock. She’d already came once in his mouth and he was reeling from her load as the remains dribbled down his chin. He could feel her already starting to harden again in his throat.

Her wood was removed only to be replaced by Crystal’s in an instant before he would say a word or get a breath.

“That was pathetic.” She snarked. “What are you a virgin!” She pumped his head up and down on her crotch, probing his gullet with her shaft. She was bigger than Rachielle, longer, but Rachielle was a bit thicker at the base with a nicer head shape and..what the hell was he even thinking right now?!  He tended to space out when sucking cock but now was not the time for it. He was being used and abused in some sort of sex contest between these two. One he wasn’t an eager participant in.

“Oh shh!” A torrent of cum shot into his mouth. He couldn’t swallow in time and Crystals cum over flowed, spurting out side with an audible squelching sound.

“Who’s pathetic?” Rachielle commented. “That was even faster!” She snatched him up and took his lips in her mouthful of someone else’s semen be damned. “See, bitch. This is what love is.”

She continued the makeout for a long moment. Moaning deeply as she breathed herself into him. “I don’t care what you look like, baby, or who touches you. I know you’ll always come back to me.”

Crystal was only slightly impressed by this. It took devotion to share a kiss with someone covered in cum, but she could do one better.

They broke the kiss.

“Can we stop this?” Rembrandt asked but he was ignored as Crystal snatched him away.

“We were having a moment!” Rachielle shrieked at her.

Crystal dismissed it to take Rembrandt’s lips for herself. “I’m not going to say I love you, but I’m in this Remy!” She spoke. “I’m not giving up and I can do more for you than she can.”

Her hands went to his waistline.

“Crystal?”

“I don’t normally do this, but for you I’ll make an exception.”

She removed his pants. For a brief moment she just stared at the cute, stump that was his erection.

“What are you-?” Rachielle started. She couldn’t finish before Crystal took his cock in her mouth.

“Ooooh!” Rembrandt gasped in sudden and inexperienced pleasure as a flood of new sensations overloaded his brain. Her tongue. Her actual tongue! Rachielle had never...it was warm, sooo warm, and soft and-.

“Thief!” Rachielle exclaimed. She grabbed Crystal by the hair and forced her off of Rembrandt.

He gasped as the sudden coolness of the air on his groin. It was soaked and dripping with Crystal’s saliva. Before he could even process what happened, Rachielle was on him with her own mouth. The force of a vacuum was on him and he orgasmed almost immediatly. It was as if Rachielle was sucking the cum out of him through a straw. He climaxed again harder than he ever had in his life...and again..and again as Rachielle sucked him dry.

She swallowed.

“Sorry.” She commented. “I was saving that for a special occasion, but I guess that’s been spoiled now, thanks to this impudent bitch!”

“Insecure much!?” Crystal said. She then pushed Rachielle aside and lifted Rembrandt up onto the bathroom sink before bending down to take him again.

“I don’t think I can again.” Rembrandt wheezed. “I’m not like you guys. I’m not…”

“Hush.” Crystal cooed. “I’m sure you’ve got another one in you.” She removed her mouth and started gently stroking him with her thumb. “I know you do.”

“Crystal I-”

“Just relax.” Crystal said quietly, almost comfortingly. More tender than he’d ever heard her. “Ease into it. Let it happen.”

He hardened.

“Yes!” Crystal boasted. She grinned smugly and stepped aside to show up Rachielle with her handywork. “Nice try, bitch!”

Rachielle growled at her. “That’s nothing special. You should see how he gets when we’re alone.”

“Can we please stop this!?” Rembrandt begged.

“No!” Both replied.

Rembrandt knew he would miss the rest of the movie.

 

---

 

He was unconscious when he was delivered to his mother. She took Rembrandt in her arms and held him like a newborn.

“Did he have fun?” she asked.

“Most definitely!” Rachielle assured.

“Liar.” Crystal said under her breath.

Velvette could only smile. “Try to control yourselves next time.” She said. “My son is not your personal toy. If either of you lose it your cool with him, neither will see him again...if you even manage to see the next sunrise.” She slammed the door in their faces.

“Bitch.” Rachielle said. “I can’t wait to get him away from her.”

“You practically drove him to her!” Crystal shot.

“Don’t think you’ve won something here!” Rachielle said. “I don’t know what you did to get Velvette’s approval but it doesn’t matter. Rembrandt is mine! You’ve only gotten this far because of MY mistakes. Ones I plan on fixing soon enough!”

“While you’re fixing YOUR mistake, I’ll be busy with Rembrandt helping him move on and away from you. If you actually love him you’ll back off and let him make his own decisions.”

“He’s just confused right now.” Rachielle said. “And I’m so naive to let you manipulate that to your advantage like the lying thief you are. This is far from over Christian.”

Crystal cracked her knuckles into a fist. “You’re lucky we’re still on Rembrandt’s property or I’d make a mess of you right now.”

“You don’t have the guts.” Rachielle taunted knowingly.

“You’re right.” Crystal said. “This isn’t over.” She stormed off and revved her bike with an obnoxious volume. She peeled of leaving a cloud of smoke and burnt rubber in her wake.

Rachielle coughed on the fumes.

 

The Subjugation of Rembrandt Logan Chapter 11: Virgin Lost

Crystal didn’t pay much attention in class. Basic class was easy and she didn’t have to try very hard. Most students were in “advanced placement” or college prep by their junior year but she didn’t have the passion for it. Her motivations lied in other avenues beyond higher learning, not that it mattered much now. Her future was already set.

She grit her teeth just thinking about that inevitability. It was what she wanted but not how she wanted it. The name had to stay…..That stupid fucking name that was a ball and chain around her ankle. She’d just have to wait until her father died, then she could change the name after.

She changed her line of thinking, instead preferring to reminisce about Rembrandt’s mouth on her cock. The tight, slick, warm sensation. His lips were so plump. Her cock tingled in fondness. That time in the movie theater restroom was so good! He’d taken her to the base and-. A memory of platinum blonde hair, a cocky smile and indignant grunt. Dammit!

Now she couldn’t even enjoy remembering a blowjob. Rachielle had clawed her way even into her sexual fantasies. She’d gone too far, they both had, and now Rembrandt wasn’t talking to either of them. It had been three days.

His locker had been reassigned. He chose to eat lunch in the teacher’s lounge. Those aging spinsters were all too keen to spoil a cute little handful like him. The one day he couldn’t, he actually chose to sit at the same table as Jericho! That was a blatant insult if ever there was one.

The jock was constantly pawing at him, and Crystal could tell Remy was visibly uncomfortable by it, even made to sit in the stud’s lap like a proper bitch.

The only time she spent with him now was in P.E., on the one day a week they had their physical assessment test. Which was on Friday this week. Not soon enough.

That was unacceptable.

Rembrandt was her bitch, not some air brained quarterbacks, and not some b-grade business woman’s.

This needed fixing. Rembrandt had to learn his place was at her side and under her dick. And she needed new material to keep her going through these dreary classes.

She could just force him back to her, force him to take her cock and everything else she had for him, but that felt to much like Rachielle now. That woman ruined everything! She didn’t know how to interact with him otherwise. Being vulnerable was hard...but maybe it was time. Then she could fuck him. Hard. He would not get away with putting her through this unpunished.

Her teacher, a man too young to grow a proper beard and a millenial top knot continued to ramble on about ethics, or the economy, or whatever this class was about when there was a knock at the classroom door.

“Ah! Of course!” He snapped his finger. “I’d nearly forgotten. Class! I have an announcement. We’ve been fortunate enough to be assigned a teacher’s aide.”

The class murmured amongst themselves only half interested in the underwhelming news. A few whispers about whether it was a man or a woman, or maybe even a smaller person like Rembrandt. That was a long shot. The laws had changed so it was less of an impossibility but why would they waste their new independence on being a high school teacher? Whoever it was the unanimous opinion was that they should at least be hot.

“She’s attending our class as a sort of internship, so be aware that she’s just as much a student as you are.”

More whispers at the reveal it was a woman.  

“Does that mean we don’t have to listen to her?” A student asked.

“No!” The teacher denied. “She’s still a member of the faculty and should be treated as such. She’ll also be grading your assignments so I wouldn’t get on her bad side.”

The door opened.

Crystal ground her teeth and clenched her fist.

Platinum blonde hair tied in a bun. That smug, self righteous smile with flawless star bright teeth.

“Some of you might recognize her from the cover of Time magazine.” the teacher said.

“That’s not the cover I know her from!” A male student commented with a cheeky grin that earned a laugh.

“I can sign that Sports Illustrated if you want!” she said with a wink.

A symphony of “Ooooooh’s” came from that one.

If only they knew.

Crystal doubted that idiot would be eager to have an autograph if he knew the woman he was lusting after was more likely to bend him over than the over way around.

“I see your reputation precedes you, Ms. Wanstone. Let me personally thank you for choosing our school as the next leg of your amazing career and journey.”

Great! Even the teacher was hot for her.

“Please, Mr. Clarkson.” She brushed a stray, strand of hair out her face. “Call me Rachielle.”

 

---

 

There was a crowd. Students, mostly male, were eager to make time with the hot new TA. Probably flirting aspirations of getting in her pants, or a least a peek of cleavage. Horny idiots always held delusions of grandeur.

“What the fuck are you doing here!?” Crystal roared. The students scattered knowing her reputation as a delinquent. Few on campus had the stones to get in her way when upset.

“Mr. Hudson. That is no way to address a teacher. I’ll have to give you a mark. Two more and that’s a detention.” Rachielle said.

Crystal gripped the desk so hard that her nails dug into the wood and threatened the very foundation of the furniture.

“You want me to kill you don’t you?!” She asked in livid shock. “You actually want it!”

“Calm, down. Crystal.” Rachielle huffed. “I’m not a fan of this arrangement either. I wanted to be in one of Rembrandt’s classes but the principal wouldn’t allow it. They want to “limit his exposure to unknown variables.” or something. Coddling in a transparent attempt to lure in more prospects.”

“What. Are. You. Doing here!” Crystal repeated.

“I have a bachelor’s in education.” Rachielle informed. “I have prospects to open up an institute of my own in a few years. Something that caters to our new base of eager, young, tiny, and impressionable generation ready to take hold of their newfound freedom!”

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about!” Crystal seethed.

“Do you really think I’m going to let MY fiance spent time with you alone!?” Rachielle snapped. “I was not born yesterday my dear. I know what you do to him between classes.”

“He’s been avoiding you too.” Crystal shot. “This is a last desperate attempt to see him.”

“Did you see the douchebag he’s been hanging around in gym?” Rachielle gasped. He grabbed his ass after school. I want him dead.”

“So you’re a stalker too?”

“I’m serious. You would be too if you loved him, or even knew what love was.”

“You can’t keep tabs on him all day, but I can.” Crystal taunted. “Have fun imagining what I do to him while you’re busy grading, or whatever TA’s do.”

“We’ll see.” Rachielle smiled. “Now if you’ll excuse me. Other students need my...attention.”

“Pervert.” Crystal hissed.

 

---

 

“I could help you after classes with any subject matter you find difficult.” Ms. Bradshaw offered. “Privately.” She added without any subtlety to the implication. She was 57. Older than his mom and just starting to show the signs of ageing. She was beautiful despite that or possibly because of it. Her wrinkles added a hint of vulnerability Rembrandt appreciated. It reminded him that the giants weren’t immortal or infallible even though they sometime appeared so.

“I might take you up on that!” he said returning the flirt. It was harmless. He wouldn’t follow through. Even if she was bold enough to risk her career on an affair with an underage student he wouldn’t, but he had fun entertaining new prospects. He was done with Rachielle and Crystal. They’d went to far that weekend. Both of them. He deserved better. Possibly something more traditional as well.

“Oh! You’re bad!” Renna chimed in. She was a social studies teacher and only 33. She was native American and had the darkest hair he’d ever seen. She was also “soft” which was unique amongst her kind. Just enough give in the right places and a glorious set of “comfort pillows” as she called them, on display.

She was probably more his type and was even more daring than the somewhat self-conscious divorcee Ms. Bradshaw. She was regularly brushing up against his thigh with her hand. He’d been put off at first but he was becoming comfortable with it as the day’s past. Of course she stood just as little of a chance since she was also a teacher. Still this was infinitely better than being fought over and abused by two overbearing and hard up, egomaniacs.

He sighed. Why was his love life so complicated. Was there something wrong with him? Maybe it was best to just swear off romance all together. He could live at home for the rest of his life. He was at least sure his mother would love it, even if his father would disapprove.

He could live with that.

Rachielle walked in.

She sat down on the couch right across from him and cracked open a can of iced coffee.

He was shocked but said nothing. It wasn’t beyond her to figure out a way to reach him. Almost nothing was beyond her access.

“You’re the new TA right?” Asked Renna. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Yes indeed.” Rachielle smiled. “Nothing bad I hope.”

“Only your TED talk on emerging market trends.” Ms. Bradshaw informed.

“Honestly I was mostly piggybacking on some research done by the Matthewson foundation. I just elaborated in more detail on avenues they didn’t. Trade secrets probably.”

“Oh, excuse us, Rembrandt!” Renna whispered. “This is Rachielle Wanstone.”

“The Rachielle Wanstone.” Ms. Bradshaw added. “One of the hottest prospects of this generation. We should be worried.”

“I’ve heard of her.” Rembrandt seethed.

“It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you!” Rachielle grinned.

Rembrandt was beside himself. She was actually pretending not to know him.

“Promise not to steal our wonderful little man!” Renna laughed. “I don’t think we could compete with a millionaire-celebrity.”

“Nonsense!” Rachielle waved. “You two are working what you’ve got. He looks flustered enough with just you two!”

All three women shared a laugh.

“So what is a student doing in the teacher’s lounge?” Rachielle probed. “Isn’t this a private room?”

“We got permission.” Renna said. “Remy here is a bit of a target for bullying. I can sympathize. The students get pretty rowdy with all the hormones. I was kind of wild in high school. It’s can be stressful for new students. Especially the smalls.”

She rubbed Rembrandt’s chest to comfort.

“Oh, he looks tough to me.” Rachielle commented. “I’m sure he can...take it.”

He jumped.

“You okay?” Renee asked.

“I...I just need some air.” Rembrandt said. “Excuse me.”

“Three fabulous woman.” Rachielle said. “We’re just too much to handle!”

More laughter.

Rembrandt took in some air. Not even at school could he find peace. Of course Rachielle wouldn’t let things sit.

He was taken from behind.

Rachielle took his lips and started sucking the air out of his lungs.

He was lifted and slammed hard against the school’s wall. No one was around but he doubted Rachielle would stop her assault even if there were.

He struggled in her grip but her hand took his and hung it over his head as she bit down on his lower lip.

“Ra---” he was cut off by a hard moan. She was thrusting her chest into his ribcage. Her shirt lost a button and he could see the hem of her bra. Black.

“Mmm.” She released.

He panted for air.

“Enough nonsense.” Rachielle grunted. “You’re coming home with me.”

“No I’m not!” Rembrandt wheezed as he struggled.

“I NEED you!” Rachielle growled moving to maul him again.

“No!” Rembrandt flailed. His hand freed and he whipped it.

It connected with her breast and she took it in her hand and forced him to squeeze.

“You feel that?” She gasped as her heartbeat through his palm. “You do this to me. Give me what I need.”

“Find someone else.” Rembrandt yelled.

She squeezed his shoulder.

He yelped in pain.

“I could just-” Her teeth were bare.

“Control.” She whispered to herself.

She stopped.

He was dropped to the floor abruptly. He landed on his back and hurt his buttocks.

“Maybe I will.” Rachielle hissed. She buttoned her blouse and tidied her hair and collars. She gave him one last angry, yet desperate look before storming off.

Rembrandt breathed a sigh of relief. He was proud he’d stood his ground and that Rachielle was at least trying to change. That could have gone a lot worse.  

 

---

 

Rachielle stormed down the hallway. She was headed toward her car. She had a standing lunch appointment with a close friend and business associate from New Orleans who was in town for a few months. She needed it. It was a good chance to blow off some steam from what had just happened.

Rembrandt had started to grow a spine in his time out from beneath her domination. He actually had the guts to actively deny her. Worse than that was the aching in her groan. She was horny now after that make out and she needed release. Maybe a intimate massage at an exclusive day spa. She knew just the one too. It came highly recommended to people in her circles and it was truly just a high class brothel. Yes that’s exactly what she needed.

“Hey.” someone said.

Rachielle turned to see a young man. Specifically the young man who had commented on her Sports Illustrated magazine cover. She could see out the corner of her eye that he was holding that very magazine.

“Want that autograph?” She assumed.

“Yes.” He smiled. “You can make it out to your biggest fan, Arthur.”

She waited for him to hand her the magazine but instead he dropped it on the floor. He then took her by the shoulders and pulled her to him. He was tall, taller than her and had a man’s strength. He kissed her and groped her ass.

“I was thinking of a different kind of autograph.” He grinned and hauled her down the hallway. “I saw you with that small fry. I don’t think that would go over well with the faculty.”

They made it to the men’s restroom and he shut the door behind him. He jammed it closed with the trash can.

“I figured if you’re willing to give it up to that wimp, that you’d be better off getting dicked down by a real man. He dropped his pants revealing a sizeable and rapidly stiffening cock. “Afterall, I’m your “biggest” fan.”

It looked like Rachielle would find that release after all.

 

---

 

“We need to talk.” Crystal said catching Rembrandt leaving the boy’s locker room.

“Not interested.” He said.

She took his wrist.

“What?” He hissed. “You gonna try and force yourself on me like Rachielle did?! Or like you did last weekend?!”

“Will you just listen!” Crystal snapped.

His eyes widened in minor suprise.

“I’m sorry!” Crystal apologized. “Okay! I’m. Sorry! I got a little too competitive. I didn’t mean for it to go that far.”

“You practically instigated the whole thing.”  Rembrandt pointed out.

“No I didn-..I didn’t mean to.” She altered before she lied. “I was just trying to get a rise out of her. You know what a bitch she can be!”

“Yeah.” Rembrandt admitted, “But that’s not an excuse!”

“No it’s not, but can you at least give me a chance? I’ve done too much to just let this go.”

“You call getting a haircut and calling my mom “too much”.” Rembrandt asked sarcastically.

“No,smartass!” Crystal exclaimed. “Do you even know what I did to get in your mom’s graces.”

“No!” Rembrandt said getting frustrated now. “You wouldn’t tell me. Rachielle’s right about one thing. You haven’t been honest. You used me remember! And now you wanna pretend like you care. I don’t need that! I’ve been in an abusive relationship before. I won’t have it again.”

“Fuck!” Crystal cursed. “I talked to my dad okay!”

Rembrandt paused. “What?”

“My prick of a father. The dude who wouldn’t respect my identity. Who is abusive and manipulative, and who forced me to kidnap my own brother and spend six months in a juvenile correction facility because of it!”

Rembrandt was speechless.

“Can we talk now?” Crystal said.

“Yes.” Rembrandt relented.

 

---

 

“Strrrrp!” Arthur gurgled with a mouthful of Rachielle’s cock. He couldn’t be running out of breath already.

“What was that?” She cackled. “You shouldn’t talk with your mouth full.” She thrust her cock deeper down his throat. He choked and coughed around her cock as snot leaked from his nostrils. Tears in his eyes. What was did he have to cry about? She hadn’t even cum yet!

Not that she could at the rate he was going. The blowjob was sloppy and not in the good way. He didn’t suck, or know how to use his tongue. His mouth was tight but he would constantly try to open it to get air instead of holding the vacuum.

“Breath through your nose, idiot.” She ordered as she forced his head to her groin. She felt teeth nibble on her base. Was he actually trying to bite her.

“You trying to stop this fan boy?” Rachielle snickered. “Good luck.” She grabbed a handful of his hair and started pumping. She tried to imagine Rembrandt on her cock. His tight little ass. The circular motion of his tiny tongue as he swirled it around her gland. That was enough to force out an orgasm. A shallow one.

Arthur visibly panicked as she orgasmed inside of him. He groaned and shook as she erupted. Her seed was spilling out his mouth and nostrils. The little prick wasn’t even going to attempt to swallow. What an insult.

She released him and he collapsed to the floor face first in a gooey puddle.

Her dick was spit-shined and still very hard. His one star BJ was not nearly enough. She would need more from him. Much more. She walked around to his back and lifted up his hips.

“No!” He pleaded.

“I thought you were my biggest fan!” Rachielle gasped. Not hardly. In times that she wanted dick she could find much more than Arthur. She was bigger than him herself. The look on his face when he’d seen her equipment was worth the rape attempt by itself. “You should be honored.”

“Bitch!” he said thrashing and kicking. “Rapist.”

“I wonder how the principal would feel about these accusations when I play this for him.” Rachielle took her phone out her pocket.

“You’d be better off getting dicked down by a real man!” Arthur’s voice played from the phone’s speaker.

‘How did you?!” The look of absolute terror on his face.

“Here’s that autograph you wanted.” Rachielle spread him wide. “But first.”

Believe it or not this wasn’t the first time this had happened to her. The world had a plethora of misogynistic assholes hoping to get a taste of her, or to try and force the issue when they couldn’t. She also had a significant number of similarly minded woman suitors. She kept condoms for situations such as this.

She wrapped up.

Arthur was penetrated.

He was a screamer.

 

The Subjugation of Rembrandt Logan Chapter 13: Cherry Picking

“My parents married out of high school when my sister was born.” Crystal started. “I’d like to think they were in love, but by the time I came around they were always yelling at each other. My father would drink, hit things, hit people. My mother would throw things.”

“That’s-.” Rembrandt didn’t have words. He knew every family had dysfunctions  but he could never imagine abuse. It was foreign to him.

“My father came home with a baby one night.” Crystal continued. “My older brother. Of course I didn’t find out until much later that he was my half brother. My dad…”Christian” had been cheating on my mom for years. His mistress died I guess, or maybe she ran away I never asked, but my mom resented the hell out of him for that.”

Crystal pulled at his arms and leaned back to stretch him out. They were sitting in the grass as the afternoon sun lowered shining warm rays on his back. The gym class was over and so was the school day, but they stayed behind to have some privacy. He fell over and into her chest.

She laughed a gentle genuine one.

Rembrandt was caught blushing not just by his position but by how..cute Crystal looked in that moment. A joviality he didn’t associate with her before and while candidly recalling such heavy memories to boot. It was disarming.

“Then I was born.” She snickered. “Another “boy” everyone thought...or at least the one person that mattered anyway. My parents were trying to make it work.”

She laughed at that. “Not so much. My dad hadn’t stopped cheating, he’d just gotten better at it. Instead of getting bitter my mom decided to do as the asshole’s do. She wasn’t as good. And so we got Carter.”

“Carter.” Rembrandt’ remembered him. Small like him, but tall as well. A mix. He had an afro.

“CJ hurry up!” They heard. In a moment of esquisite timing Carter dashed right by them. He stopped at Crystal jogging in place.

“Mom said not to be late for dinner tonight.” He informed. “Gran’s coming over and wants to see us all dressed up.”

“Fuck off.” Crystal hissed.

“Whatever.” He shrugged. “I can tell them you’re busy playing grab ass with your new boyfriend but that will just make they want to meet him.”

“Carter I swear I’ll-”

He started running off before Crystal could finish her threat.

They looked as he jumped into the arms of a much taller girl with a hijab. They embraced and started kissing.

Crystal sighed. “My dad waited until after he was born before he started taking it out on our mom. After three kids my mom was tired of fighting. She filed for divorce.”

Rembrandt was a little taken by the sudden one-eighty in tone, but Crystal was unhindered and unashamed. She was just as cavalier and calm as if she was talking about the weather.

“My dad made all the decisions and all the money.” She said. “He got to keep the kids...including Carter just to stick it to her.”

“That’s..that’s.”

“We had visitation.” Crystal continued. “Every other weekend. Life was actually pretty calm without them always fighting. Except for Carter….”

There was a long pause. Crystal’s calm and casual demeanor seemed to break for just a moment. A tiny almost impercievable glare. The corner of her mouth curling just a bit.

“When I found his first bruise I knew he couldn’t stay there.” She revealed. “Luckily for me I’d had a bike by then.”

“You saved him.” Rembrandt said.

Crystal smiled. “Saved. Kidnapped. Same thing to the courts. I went to a “correctional facility” for six months.” Crystal air quoted. “It was jail.”

Rembrandt frowned.

“Don’t make that face.” Crystal giggled. “I grew my hair out, got a sweet tattoo, and my mom got custody of Carter so I’d say it was worth.”

“Incredible.”

“Not really.” Crystal shrugged. “Everyone’s got their own shit. I moved out after I was released, my dad didn’t seem to care by that point or maybe he just didn’t like my hair. Hah! That’s when “Christian Hudson Jr.” died and Crystal was born.”

“Until now.” Rembrandt muttered. “Because of me.”

“You’re catching on.” Crystal winked. “Although my dad was pretty pissed to see these.”

She pushed his face into her chest and rubbed his cheek between the cleavage of her mounds.

“Can’t exactly cut these off.” Crystal mused. “He’ll just have to deal.”

“But why though?” Rembrandt asked. “I’m not worth this!”

“Maybe not.” Crystal huffed. “But he has something I want and your  mom wouldn’t take me seriously if I didn’t have something to offer you. Two birds really.”

Rembrandt squinted. He was becoming increasingly done with his mother and her meddling. He could make his own choices and now others were suffering because of her vetting.

“I have something to offer.” Crystal said. “My father owns an auto repair business he’s been trying to franchise. I’m next in line for it.”

“What about your brother, or sister?”

“Hahaha!” Crystal started laughing. Even crying a little at the hilarity of his question. “My sister’s married, moved across country, and pregnant. My brother’s well..and idiot, he couldn’t hammer a nail let alone change a tire or restore a Harley!”

“That still doesn’t mean he has to give it to you.” Rembrandt said.

“Christian Hudson Sr. is a traditionalist.” Crystal said. “It’s his biggest flaw and only redeeming feature.”

“So?”

“My dad’s dying, Rembrandt.” Crystal said wiping away a tear. He didn’t know if it was from her laughing fit or actually grief at saying it. “Cancer……..I’m his only choice…….Christian Hudson Jr. is his only choice.”

 

---

 

Rachielle held a used condom fully loaded with hot sperm by the tip of the rubber. It dangled and bounced in her hand like the perverted water balloon it was.

“Not bad work.” She bragged to herself and an incapacitated Arthur. He was nearly delirious from their session. Poor boy had no stamina. “Was it good for you?”

He only groaned with his cheek pressed against the frigid tile. His ass bare and presenting. A gaping hole left open and exposed to the air. His pants around his ankles.

“Stop exaggerating.” Rachielle huffed. “You’re pathetic.”

He truly was. They’d barely been going an hour. Rembrandt could take her  cock in his mouth all night if he had to. Arthur had barely gotten two orgasms out of her. He was hardly even worth the trouble of unzipping her pants

She zipped up and headed for the door. She removed the trash can that was blocking it when she stopped.

She picked up the Sports Illustrated magazine he had. Her picture in a scathing two piece on a beach in Florida. Rembrandt hadn’t been with her for that but she’d wished he had. She was particularly radiant that day and the shoot had went so smoothly. She even had a few personal photos taking that had revealed more of her than was allowed on a commercial magazine.

She laughed at the image of her luscious ass with the skimpy thong wedged between it. A tasteful and deliberate angle. Especially since it didn’t show the camera boner she’d had that entire day. The staff was remarkably professional about it and she’d made a few contacts that day. Maybe she should call them up again.

“To my biggest fan, Arthur.” She signed with a heart. “I hope you deeply remember the moment we shared.” She kissed the cover leaving a red lip mark.

She dropped the magazine on him, before flushing her used condom and leaving.

She sighed as she entered the hallway. Her head was clear and she was somewhat satisfied if not fully relieved. There was still a pang of lust but it was tolerable. More importantly now that she was less encumbered she could seek out Rembrandt..and apologize.

She would take him home today. His home, not hers, and she would spend the afternoon pampering him. Yes.  She walked off with a skip in her step, ready to find her love.

 

---

 

“I don’t make a habit of asking for things.” Crystal said.

She was looking at him, baring everything to him except for a pair of rose colored panties stretched tight over her.

The girl’s locker room was empty. It was almost 4:30. School was long over.

Rembrandt trembled, exposed down to his waist. His girlish figure on display except his white socks and briefs.

Crystal knelt down next to the bench he was sitting on, shaking like a crab above the pot at her looming presence.

Her hand was on his shoulder. Her rough hands soft to the touch, lingering over his goosebumps and the thin film of sweat on his neck.

“But I’m asking you now.” She said softly taking his chin and forcing him to look at her.

Eyes met. His blue, her’s not.

“Can I do this?” She breathed into his ear. “Are you ready.”

Rembrandt gulped. He nodded.

“Are you sure?” She asked again. “I will not ask you again...ever.”

Rembrandt knew this was a warning. His final out. She wanted more than just sex from him. She wanted him. Just like Rachielle. Remarkably similar. She had the same draw too. Seeing right through his facade. He was a sub. He knew it. They knew it. His own mother knew it.

The subjugation of Rembrandt Logan was the only prize.

He turned his head. The last flicker of reservation clutched his heart. He was reminded of a moment. A large satin pillow. Her golden hair and the promise they made. A ring that was now only a pale mark on his finger now.

Crystal was not Rachielle.

He still had many choices to make in life, but he felt he was ready for this one.

Ready to take a step.

“Y-yes.” he stammered.

Crystal breathed and rose to her full height. “Relax, Remy.” She smiled. “We’re having sex I’m not executing you.”

“Sorry.” he blushed. “I’m just nervous. I’ve never.. I don’t think I can even take it.”

Crystal smirked. She dropped her panties and tugged them off her feet on leg at a time. When she was done she bunched them up into a ball and stuffed them in Rembrandt’s mouth.

“I believe I owe you another pair.” She smiled as her cock twitched already half erect.

Rembrandt gagged a bit on the stale taste of sweaty underwear before spitting them to the ground. “I told you I don’t-”

Crystal hushed him with a finger to his mouth. She took him, lifting him high off the ground.

He was acutely aware of the size difference between them. It was a mundane fact of his very existence, but he often never appreciated it.

Her face was bigger, her mouth, her nose, her eyes. All dwarfing him. When she smiled it every detail was exaggerated and enhanced. Her neck was quite feminine yet thicker than his, thicker than his arms even. More power in her shoulders than in his body. They were broad and hills of muscle connected to a defined clavicle.

Crystal nipped his neck and he could see the defines of her back and her tattoo from over her shoulder. It was her name “Crystal” in decorated letters.

She turned him around and he saw the ground. It looked far away from her perspective and was slightly nauseating. Did people really walk around like this.

She bit his neck and he squealed.

“Focus.” Crystal said. “I feel like I’m doing all the work here”

She leaned back letting herself mack contact with the wall and taking Rembrandt with her. She slid down until she was on the floor with her legs bent, Rembrandt in her lap. She was fully hard by this point and her dick stood tall.

“Well?” She said expectantly.

Rembrandt swallowed. He turned his body around to straddle her placing both hands on her shoulders. He leaned up to start at her forehead. He face reddened when his lip connected. He kissed down her brow and the side of her scar to the tip of her nose. Connected lips and the taste of raspberry.

“Okay, vanilla boy.” Crystal rasped out before seizing him and putting an end to his affection. He jammed her thumbs beneath his ribcage to make him whimper. His time to take control was up.

Her heard a tear and the elastic of his briefs was ripped. His underwear was shredded with one hand and scattered to the wind.

“Slow down.” Rembrandt whimpered.

She tilted her head and raised an eyebrow that spoke “really?” without needing to say a word.

“S-sorry.” He stammered.

“You’re such a virgin.” Crystal sighed. “Let’s start with something you know then.”

HIs face was inevitably lowered to her crotch. The smell of which was expectedly powerful with the musk of the day’s sweat. He started to wet his tongue when he felt a nip. She’d pinched his ass and was now gripping him. His back was lifted up to her face and she was nibbling at him.

“Don’t mind me.” Crystal chuckled. “Get started, cocksucker!”

“Do you have to insult me?” Rembrandt asked.

“Would you prefer bitch boy, or mongrel?” Crystal asked without a hint of sarcasm.

“Why do i hav-”

Nails at the back of his head. His face pushed down as her cock slowly thrust passed his lips.

“You suck better than you talk.” Crystal sighed in contentment as his mouth closed around her. The satisfaction of a moist home for her member was beyond compare. She could stay like this forever and would work to make that as much of a reality as possible.

“Shit!” She cursed. “Slow down!” She bit her lip to curtail an orgasm that had nearly sneaked up on her.

Rembrandt immediately removed his mouth from her with an audible *Pop*.

“Sorry!” He stuttered with a fright. Dreading at her displeasure.

Crystal felt her face warm. Now she was the one acting like a pathetic virgin, but damn him he’d never sucked that well before! He’d been holding back on her. Pretending to be meek and unwilling as a mask of his real skill.

He waited for another command. One that never came as Crystal chose to distract herself with his puckered bud. Closed tight and scared. It would need coaxing to open up to her.

She started off slow rimming the outer edge of his cheeks. He was salty and sweaty but not stale. Rembrandt clearly practiced immaculate hygiene uncommon in men and perhaps even a bit embarrassing to herself as well.

He yelped and gasped in strained suffering as she poked about him with her tongue. A girlish peep escaped when she probed the tip of his anus with the end of her tongue.

“I can’t do THIS!!!!” He yelped loudly as she slithered the entire length of her organ inside!

He tasted bitter but not entirely unpleasant. The first and last time she’d done something like this with a man it was near vomit inducing for her. Rembrandt’s taste was thankfully less severe.

“Ahh!” He squealed in a vocal display akin to the coed she’d deflowered at her aunt’s wedding reception last year. She slithered her tongue inside him coaxing every minute moan she could from his mouth. He’d be louder soon.

Not wanting to be outdone Rembrandt went back to work of his own.

“Slow.” Crystal commanded, removing herself just to give that order.

He slowed down the pace of his head movements and started slowly circling the tip.

She went back to work and they were now sixty-nining.

Rembrandt was hampered as his attention was spread between servicing Crystal’s overeager cock and the new and off putting sensations coursing from her own attentions. One moment her cock was forcing its way down his gullet and stretching his throat, the next her tongue was doing the same to his anus. There was almost a rhythm to this. A back and forth, back and forth of conflicting feelings of pain and pleasure at both ends.

He cried. Of course he did. He hadn’t experienced sex yet that hadn’t had tears involved. Rachielle had found it his most alluring factor. He could only feel shame from it. Men didn’t cry, and despite what he looked like, what he was doing, and what he admitted he enjoyed. He still identified as a man. The effects of his father could not fade. Why was he thinking of his dad right now!? They both clearly had daddy issues.

Crystal removed her tongue satisfied with the opening she’d encouraged out a Rembrandt. It was still small and tight and honestly very tempting. Anyone else would be getting broken in right now, but to her surprise….not her Remy. Not yet.

She removed him from his mercifully slow bj. She was already too close as it was and she wanted to save her orgasm. She’d just finish prepping a new place for it and it would be a waste for him to take her orally now.

She didn’t speak words as she brought his face to her. She inspected the territorial marks of another on his neck and back. Rachielle’s lips, her teeth, her nails, all telling her to fuck off! Crystal smiled at the challenge and the disrespect she was about to inflict on the blonde bitch’s most precious temple.

“I hope you’re ready for this.” Crystal hissed into his ear as she placed her slick cock at the opening of him. She could feel the heat of hit. She doubted she could stop herself if he said no. But he could still say no. If he really wanted to.

“I’m not.” he said.

Damn! She dragged herself away.

“But I will anyway.” He finished.

Crystal didn’t need anymore than that. Her dick finally had what it wanted and took it without question. Glorious penetration. Tightness, warmth, pleasure, slowly, desperately, achingly creeping passed the head of her cock until it was encompassed to the start of her shaft.

“Ah!” He moaned.

She stopped her entry with just the tip of her inside him.

Rembrandt Logan was no longer a virgin.

“Shit!” She cursed ready to explode right then and there. Not even a thrust yet earned. “Holy….shit!”

“It hurts!” Rembrandt cried.”It!”

She wiped his tears with her mouth. “I know.” She rasped. “Bear with it a little.” She strained not to completely impale him on her despite every natural instinct telling her to ream him with reckless abandon. “I won’t go any deeper.” The words were practically sacrilege but she was close anyway. They would need more time to get this down. Lots of practice was in Rembrandt’s near future but for now all she wanted was the orgasm. To mark Rembrandt for herself first before anyone could-.

*SLAM*

“You bitch!” Rachielle seethed.

Rembrandt screamed as he fell down on her entire length! He passed out from the trauma. That was more than enough for Crystal to erupt, but not before her head slammed into the metal of the locker.

Rachielle plucked Rembrandt off her shaft before she could deposit. Her vision was blurred but she could see him open, but spotless. Instead her orgasm hit air and floor and the ankles of Rachielle’s stocking clad foot and dress pants.

Believe it or not, ejaculating leaves you surprisingly vulnerable. Crystal was still in the afterglow when she felt Rachielle’s hand around her throat and her body pushed against the locker. The blonde than used her free forearm to replace her hand and hold Crystal an inch of the ground pinned against the wall above them both.

“You dare to steal what’s mine.” She seethed like wildfire. Her eyes were actually red. “I should kill you for that!”

Her fist connected with Crystal’s mouth.

“Jealous?” Crystal smiled spitting out blood and a tooth on Rachielle’s face.

“I should!” Rachielle roared. “I could!” Her forearm pressed harder and Crystal choked as her last breath escaped her.

Rachielle froze.

“C-c-control.” She stuttered to herself. “Con-trol.”

“What the fuck?” Crystal tried to say. This woman was nuts. Clearly.

“Fuck!” Rachielle cursed. Crystal was dropped to collapse on the floor. “This is my fault!”

Rachielle went to the unconscious Rembrandt. Naked, eyes closed, vulnerable. She removed her dress shirt to expose nothing but her brassiere.

“This is my fault.” She was crying now. “My fault! My fault!”

Crystal tried to collect herself. She was bleeding from the mouth but she’d had far worse in her life.

“I drove him to do this didn’t I?” She asked.

Crystal didn’t have an answer. She didn’t have anything for this strangest of situations. This was the most awkward ending to sex she’d ever had and she felt a little out of form completely naked.

She was naked. Rembrandt was naked and out. Rachielle was topless and weeping.

Crystal decided to solve one problem by putting some pants on. “You realize we’re both hurting him by doing this right?”

“Yes.” Rachielle admitted.

“Do you want to fight or something?” Crystal snapped.  “Cause I’m down if you are! Just don’t get him involved in our shit anymore!”

“I’m trying to fix that about myself.” Rachielle seethed. “But you seem poised to exploit that weakness and make me regret trying to be a better person by snatching what I love from me!” Rachielle snapped back.

“I’m too invested to back down.” Crystal said securing her bra and top. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Then we need to come to an understanding.” Rachielle sighed standing up with Rembrandt in her arms. “Now.”

 

---

 

Rembrandt woke to laughter.

“And then he said….I’m your “biggest” fan!” Two voices laughed uproariously at the punchline. “I know like five guys packing more heat than that.”

“Arthur’s a little pencil dick!” Crystal chuckled. “Think’s he’s hot shit because his dad owns a dealership!”

More laughter.

He was resting in a pair of laps.

“Welcome to McShakey’s!” Chimed a robotic male tone. “How can I help you?”

“Want anything babe?” Rachielle asked.

Rachielle what was she?!

“I-I-I-I-I”

“Calm down, mongrel.” Crystal said stroking his hair. “We’re just getting something to eat. Blondie said you’d like this place.”

“You like the sliders right?” Rachielle questioned. “One order of the chicken sliders please and...oh jeez do you actually have anything in a decent portion size?”

“MAJOR meals are at the next window.” The voice said.

“Ugh! Fine.” Rachielle hissed. “You want anything else?”

“What’s going on?” Rembrandt asked shaky out the grogginess.

“We’re eating I just said.” Crystal commented.

“That’s not-..weren’t we just-?” He hadn’t imagined it had he?

“Yes, yes, yes. I found her dick deep inside you.” Rachielle huffed. “We’ve moved on.”

Hardly dick deep.” Crystal snickered. They both shared a giggle at that.

“What?” Rembrandt’s brain flipped. He must be in an alternate reality where these two were suddenly friends.

“I don’t understand.” He relented.

“We’ve come to an understanding.” Rachielle commented.

“And decided not to kill each other...yet.” Crystal added.

“Why?”

The car moved up to the next window.

“It’s not healthy….for you.” Rachielle said.

Crystal nodded in agreement.

Rachielle took Rembrandt to sit in her lap. That’s when he realized he was naked except for an overly large dress shirt.

“I’m sorry baby.” Rachielle apologized. “I hurt you once and drove you into the arms of another.”

“Rachielle I didn’t-”

“Just listen.” Rachielle interrupted. “I want you to have this.”

She presented a closed hand and opened it presenting a diamond ring in her palm. Their engagement ring.

He felt moisture start to well in his eyes. “Why are you giving this to me. I can’t marry you. I don’t trust.”

“I know.” Rachilelle said. “You’ve made that painfully obvious by now. I guess that’s my burden to bare, but I have time to change your mind.”

“Until then...I’ll be looking after you.” Crystal said.

They pulled up the the window and Rachielle received the food. “Hungry?”

“Rachielle...I still love you, but I can’t..I’m not ready to forgive you yet.”

“I know.” She said offering him a tiny burger. He took it and nibbled a tiny bite. “Fortunately for me I know exactly where you’ll be for the next few years. I have lots of free office hours for tutoring.”

Rembrandt gulped.

“That’s not gonna happen.” Crystal grinned. “He’ll be too distracted.”

They both laughed but now Rembrandt could feel the animosity it masked. No these women still hated each other. They were just waiting for him to graduate until they killed each other.

Rembrandt swallowed his bite of slider as the car moved out the drive-through.

They were all smiling and laughing, but he knew his love problems would only continue, in fact they hadn’t truly even started.