A/N OK, guys, I know I said this story was complete a few weeks ago. But I decided to expand it, when I realized that it had some plot holes. I hope you all enjoy it!
Servant Brittany.
Inside the girls bathroom at William McKinley High School, Quinn and Brittany were in the middle of another argument. The other girls there stared at them while applying their makeup. Something about this bathroom made Brittany really nervous. "Dammit, Brittany! Why won't you behave?! Christ, you haven't been sweet for several weeks! What's with the fucking attitude?"
Brittany had turned into a completely different person, especially around Quinn, since the start of the new term, since spring break. She developed a potty mouth, and had started drinking alcohol several times over the past few weeks. She lashed out at Quinn repeatedly several times a week. Quinn guessed that she was traumatized over the recent school shooting. This wasn't the type of girl she wanted to be around anymore, even though Quinn herself had once displayed a rebellious streak that lasted a few weeks, with her showing off pink hair, black leather, and also smoking cigarettes.
Brittany had been misbehaving for over a month, and it was time to do something about it. Checking her locker for a bag of components she purchased over the course of two weeks (She wasn't about to keep these items at home, where her family might discover them), Quinn invited the unsuspecting Cheerio to her house. Leading her into her bedroom while her parents were out, under the pretext of sharing some makeup, Quinn soon covered Brittany's face with chloroform borrowed from the science wing of the school, knocking her out for an hour. When she awoke, she was prepared physically to do Quinn's bidding, whether she wanted to or not. Seeing that the girl was slowly starting to awake, she checked off all of the connections, and made sure she had fresh batteries in the remote she was going to use on her. Once she was fully awake, her punishment began. "Stand up, Brittany. Right now." Quinn ordered. "Quinn, what the hell? Why? Ow. OOOWWWWWY!" Tears flowed freely from her eyes, and her knees shook. "I might back off a little if you stop talking." Brittany nodded, silently. "Now, follow me!" Down the stairs and out the door they walked. Off to the school they went, in Quinn's sedan car.
Quinn brought Brittany out of the car in a nice dress with a shock collar around her neck. "Forward, Brittany." Quinn commanded. She was basically a robot. A diaper under her dress took care of her bathroom needs, and allowed Quinn (or anyone else she gave Brittany's remote to) to have their way with her all day long. Taking her around back to an obscure exit, she led her into the choir room of William McKinley High School. The kids all readily agreed with Quinn's plan. She had no choice, she had to obey. Brittany bit her lip and shed a tear, as her bladder emptied into her diaper almost immediately. Quinn was strict with the electronic collar's remote. A vest containing lightweight batteries and a set of wires kept a constant flow of electricity to her collar and electrodes on her temples, held in place by the bonnet on her head. She was switched on from behind via a large plastic switch. "I've got plenty of Pampers for her, and laxatives. If she wants to be changed, she had better obey and do everything I tell her to do! She paid off choir teacher William Schuester with $5,000 from her family's safe, to which she knew the combination.
Brittany would remain in a near-constant robotic slave state for the rest of the day. Quinn only removed her components to let her shower after cheerleading, with some attention paid to a wound on her neck, where the collar controlled her with a zap of 12 volts. Any attempt to escape was met with a taser, or a loaded pistol. Santana was on board with Britt Britt being a slave, too. Brittany was forced to learn that she was helpless to resist. She was powered by enough electricity to allow control of her body for 10 hours. She wasn't allowed to speak most of the time, unless her master permitted it. She gasped and groaned as she fell to her knees as the powerful laxative activated her intestines, and forced her to fill her diaper. The other kids waved their hands in front of their noses. "Sorry, guys. I hope you understand this is necessary!" Quinn ordered Brittany to lift her skirt, so she could check the diaper. "Holy crap! Is she wearing-" Santana shrieked at the sight. Quinn found a big, squishy pile of poop in Brittany's diaper, and ordered her out of the choir room as soon as possible, to change her. Quinn went back to the car for a fresh diaper and changing supplies for Brittany, including sweet-smelling baby powder, then Quinn laid her down to change her diaper inside her car.. "Wow, these laxatives really worked on your insides!" Quinn said as she wiped poop from Brittany's bottom. Brittany blushed deep red during her changing. "Why me, why? What did I do to upset her?" she thought to herself. "There, all good! You look so cute in your Pampers, Brittany!"
Sending Brittany back into the choir room, Quinn handed the remote control over to Rachel, who had the new robot serve snacks and drinks to the glee club for the next two hours, as it was the end-of-year party. Driving Brittany back to her house, she said, "If you thought serving the glee club was a pain in the ass, it's about to get even worse. Remember that day you talked back to me and my new friends, Sheila and The Mac? You crossed me, and I didn't forget. You're lucky Mr. Shue found you on the toilet when he did! I was about to shoot up the whole school, but you helped him stop me! You punched me in my stomach and disarmed me! I served no time in juvenile hall, but still. . . Two years of probation sucks!" "But Quinn, you got off easy-" Brittany was stopped in mid-sentence by multiple shocks. She finally realized that talking to the girl sitting next to her wasn't a great idea. Soon, Quinn turned into her driveway. "Now, grab that big box. You're going to need the contents for awhile. Follow me," Quinn ordered while angrily waving the remote for Brittany's collar right in her face.
Quinn sent her into the living room, past her parents, who gave the girls a rather curious look. "Did someone lose a bet?" Quinn's mother asked. "Brittany's my bitch for the next few weeks, RIGHT BRITTANY? I will let the family use her too, if you promise not to say anything to the cops." Judy smiled at the thought of having a servant to do her bidding in the kitchen and living room. Quinn sent her new robot upstairs to her temporary bedroom. Brittany set the box against the wall, "Diapers and laxatives, of course.", she fumed to herself, and examined her bed. At least, she was going to have a nice view of the bird's nest out the window. Grabbing her arm, Master Quinn dragged her out of the room and back down the stairs. "Now, would either of you like some help from my new servant?" Quinn asked her parents. "Absolutely! Tell her to bring me a beer, right now." Brittany glanced around for the kitchen door, because she knew that was where Quinn was going to take her. "Yes Master, I know!" she said to Quinn, as they walked inside. "Open the fridge. The beer my mom likes is on the middle shelf." Brittany obeyed without question. "Now, you know what to do next. Be polite to anyone from my family. And give Mom a curtsey, too," Quinn ordered.
"Here you go, Mrs. Fabray," she said as the gave her master's parents a curtsey. "Aw, that's so sweet! Thank you, Brittany." Turning to her husband, she whispered, "What the hell? Brittany has a diaper on! Did you hear that crinkling? I saw it when she curtseyed! Will Quinn be changing her diapers? She isn't great at that task. I guess I could change her a few times, as long as she obeys me for at least a month. Will she be here just on the weekends?", Judy Fabray asked her husband. "This is really going to take some getting used to dear," Russell said to his wife. "What on earth could possibly cause her to do that?" How soon they forgot what happened!
And so her routine went for the rest of the summer. Quinn had her do many different chores, including dusting and laundry, but mostly she was a snack-serving bitch. Brittany used her diapers, out both ends, frequently during the weeks that followed. Quinn's whole immediate family knew by now, as Quinn would frequently hand the remote for Brittany over to her sister and parents, as she went shopping at the mall, or to the movies. Quinn explained her extended absence to Brittany's parents by saying that she had agreed to help her family out during the summer in return for money to buy new cheerleading uniforms. "Don't worry! We have a spare bedroom for her, and we'll be feeding her plenty of food and drinks." Brittany was locked inside her bedroom every night. Quinn had Brittany model her new uniform late that summer, while singing the Britney Spears song, "Hold It Against Me," her every dance move accompanied by shocks from the collar. "Dance, Brittany! Come ON!" Quinn reviled in the control she had over her Cheerios cohort.
At the end of the summer, the weekend after Labor Day, Brittany was finally able to free herself from her obedience collar and diapers. Punching Quinn's ill, distracted sister on the cheek, she stole the remote from her, and put it into her jeans pocket. She choked one of her masters into an unconscious state right there on the bedroom floor. Reaching behind her neck, she was finally able to unfasten the electric shock collar and electrodes that had caused her so much pain for over three tortuous months. She crammed the battery vest into her shirt. Quickly, she tip-toed down the stairs. Now things would be different. Giving the middle finger to Quinn's parents, Brittany ran out the front door and toward the nearest taxi cab.
"This is an emergency! Can you PLEASE drive me to the First National Bank?" The driver agreed, on the condition that her fare be paid immediately after exiting her bank. She wasn't able to take off her wet diaper and put on a fresh pair of panties until she made it back home to her own bedroom, at last. Collapsing onto the bed, she reviled at her first taste of freedom in months. She broke down sobbing, and then she noticed the remote and shock collar in her pockets. Wiping her tears away, a thought suddenly occurred to her. She walked downstairs into the study, where her mother kept a .357 Magnum pistol, and a box of hollow-tip "cop-killer" bullets (Not a good combination for anyone unlucky enough to be on the receiving end.). A smile crept across her tear-stained cheeks, as she left her house and rode the bus to someone's house.
Coming home from her summer job as a lifeguard, Quinn found her sister on the floor and revived her with smelling salts and mouth-to-mouth breathing. Fear of a visit from the police gripped her when she realized her slave was nowhere to be found. She was in a state of panic for hours. "Oh, FUCK! What will she tell them? What will she tell her parents? She has the collar and battery vest!" Quinn overheard a loud commotion downstairs, followed by stomping on the staircase. Suddenly, her bedroom door was kicked inward by an angry girl with very strong legs. Quinn found herself face-to-face with a gun. "It's Brittany, bitch!" It was time to travel.
Forcing Quinn out of the room at gunpoint, Brittany jogged fast down the stairs past her master's parents, with Quinn exhibiting a frightened look on her face. She didn't dare run away too fast, as she knew Brittany could split her skull with one pull of the trigger. "Holy shit, I'm in trouble," Quinn thought on her way out the door. Her stomach churned, and she nearly soiled her underwear, as Brittany directed her into the family's garage, putting the pistol right against Quinn's head.
"Into the trunk, NOW!" Lifting the lid, Quinn was forced to crawl inside the trunk of her own car. "Comfortable yet?", Brittany snarled sarcastically at her new prisoner. Slamming the trunk lid down, Quinn was locked in, with the extra set of keys Brittany had liberated from Quinn's parents. Humming softly to herself, Brittany caught her breath as she opened the driver-side door. "She's lucky I'm not trying to drag her to death, at 60 miles per hour." Through the back seat, she heard Quinn's pleas: "Brittany, I'm so sorry! Please let me out!" Backing out of the garage, Brittany drove off into a pitch-black night, toward home, and a life of freedom. The previous scene was repeated in reverse, as Brittany sent Quinn into her living room. Her parents were nowhere to be found, having gone out to a romantic candle light dinner.
A week later, Brittany had a surprise for her own family.
"Well, do we have an understanding, you stupid bitch? DO WE?!" The girl nodded weakly. She was very meek. "I will call the police and press charges. You will be sent to prison for probation violation," Brittany said in no uncertain terms. "Unless, of course . . . Now, forward MARCH!" Out from the bedroom door came a sad, defeated Quinn Fabray. Brittany had worked her over for six days in her bedroom, including captivity and starvation at gunpoint. The torture included frequent spitting on her face, hard smacks, and farting onto her nose. Quinn's parents had called her in sick to the school, for fear of reprisals for their part in Brittany's slavery. Brittany sent her back into the living room. The scene was too familiar to both of them. "Now, Quinn, bring me and my parents some bottled water. Don't forget to curtsey!" Brittany smiled triumphantly. It was only fair. "This is going to be SO much fun," she thought as Quinn walked into the kitchen, with a familiar shock collar around her neck, new batteries on her backside, and a dry Pamper on her bottom, of course. But it wasn't dry for very long. "I sure hope that Brittany will change my diaper soon!", Quinn thought.
The end.