Chapter 10 - Pharah: Epilogue

 Two months after the end of Overwatch...

 The stench of the junkyard Pharah managed to get used to, but the heatwave that came every noon left her a mindless vegetable. “I thought you Egyptians loved the sun,” said Junkrat, towering over her. 

 As she lay on the ground, he put his foot down on her chest and raised the steamingly cool beer up. “You need some of this to cool off, you bitch.” 

 Pharah could barely see anything but his silhouette for how strong the sun shone behind him. “Please, Master…” whispered Pharah through parched lips. “I’m your top dog. Just give me some.” 

“You’re bloody right! My top dog? Not sure about that. You’re both two stupid shitskins a million times more useless than an actual mutt. But I suppose you’re better to look at.” Junkrat sighed. “Fuck's sake, fine, have it your way.” 

 He poured down some cool beer that hit her breasts, the drops so icy that Pharah jumped on contact and sought to catch some in her mouth. “Come on!” Junkrat insisted. “Open the fuck up, or I ain’t giving you anymore, you fockin’ incompetent retard. Open the fuck up.” 

 Pharah closed her eyes to shield them from the unrelenting sun and opened her mouth wide, ready to find some relief. Her master was good. Or at least he could be, sometimes… All Pharah needed was a little break so she could resume being a good dog for him. 

“Alright, open wide, here it comes..” 

 A warm jet hit her mouth that Pharah immediately recognized as his piss. Though she knew he was only doing it to humiliate her, she had become too used to it to mind. Plus, so long as her master got his kicks out of her, he would always reward her afterwards…

 Junkrat laughed hysterically as he finished pissing. “Crikey, that was a real shower for you.” He leaned in close to her face. “And what do we say to that?” 

“Thank you, Master.” 

“You’re goddamned right!” he exclaimed happily. “I’ve got to send this over to Rutledge. You can bet that piggy isn’t having half as much fun with that sorry excuse of a dyke.” 

 Tracer, yes… Pharah learned that Lena gave in and became a fucktoy of her own. All things considered, she was happy to be here with Junkrat and not the plaything of that fat bastard. The worst nightmare she could imagine was both of them coming together as they hoped, though Roadhog always proved too lazy to go through with it and get on the plane. Instead, he just sent daily videos of pummeling Lena and Emily into submission, turning the couple into mindbroken slaves… 

 That won’t ever happen to me, thought the Egyptian. She might have been Junkrat’s dog, but at least she stayed true to herself. Lena was always a weakling. 

 As she and Junkrat had their little moment, Symmetra crawled over and kissed his boot. “Master, will you please piss on me as well?~ I would love it if you did…” 

 Junkrat tossed her off his foot. “I just got done pissing, you dumb Indian! How much do you think I can piss? As for you, my little sandnigger, do you want your reward?” 

 Pharah nodded eagerly. “Yes, Master.” 

“Hmmm. Fine, I suppose you have been good.” Junkrat gave her the beer can. “Drink up. You’ve earned it.” 

 The Egyptian just shook as soon as it came between her hands. More than the joy of being able to fill her tummy up and cool off, was the pride of knowing she made her master content enough that he would give her such an amazing reward. She was bad when she first arrived here, and Pharah worried he would never forget, but she was slowly proving herself to be superior to Indian cunt in every way. I am the top dog. 

 As Junkrat went back into his trailer, Symmetra came crawling towards her. “Fareeha, please, give me some, too… Please! Fareeha! Are you listening? Answer me!” 

“WHAT’S THAT FUCKING RACKET?!” Junkrat boomed. 

 Symmetra hugged herself and shuddered as she looked towards the trailer entrance, though she was happy to see he remained inside. “Please, Fareeha… Just a drop. A drop. That’s all.” 

 Constrained by the length of her chain, there was no way the Indian could reach her unless Pharah allowed it. And she did not allow it. She only moved back, groaning in pleasure as she sipped the cool beer, knowing with certainty that she was Junkrat’s favorite. 

“Fareeha! Come on!” 

 Pharah set her gaze to Symmetra and grinned. “I’m the top dog.” 

“Are you fucking crazy?! Give me some, you bloody mad bitch! Give me some, I’m dying here! Please! Please!” 

 Pharah shrugged. “Die, then.” It would be much better if she never had to compete with her for Junkrat’s affection. It was great to be top dog, but it would’ve been even better to be the only dog. 

 As the Indian began to sob helplessly, her broken nails clawing at the ground, Pharah just went on smiling, her gorgeous brown body glimmering as Junkrat’s piss trickled down the full breasts and hard abs. “I’m the top dog,” she repeated. 

 When it got a little cooler, the master would come out and fuck her again. And then this other bitch would be forced to watch. Pharah no longer cared who knew about her new state. In fact, she wished that her mother and father and the rest of them back home found out. They need to know I’m the top dog.  

 She would still kill Junkrat, of course. Not today or tomorrow, but when she would get a hundred percent of his affection, he would be a goner. 

 That was her only goal now, though. To hear the master say that she was the best. The greatest. To have him use her body not just as a cumdumpster but as a breeding tool. 

 Pharah would’ve loved to carry his babies. Only the strongest babies would come from that huge white dick. Hadn’t Ana always said she wanted grandkids? 

 Until then, she would be his good little doggy girl. 

 His top dog.

