Buxom Mother and Daughter Part 5
(MF+, FF, light m-dom/slave, f-dom/slave, s/m, M/F, exhib, oral,
romance)
By SM
This is a work of fiction for adult
entertainment. You know the drill, if
you’re too young, or it’s illegal where you live, and all that, then don’t read
it. How hard can it be to understand
that?
Ok, if it’s hard, then just skip this
story anyway, just to be on the safe side.
On the other hand, if you want to, you
can leave a message at the beep.
BEEEP
And if you tried to leave a message,
don’t read this story, either. Do not
pass Go and do not collect $200 dollars.
Proceed directly to your psychotherapist and ask for help with your
problem of reality testing. And pray
that God will help all the rest of us with that problem, too. Lord, do we need that. Yes, we do.
You will need to read the first parts to
get the flow of this story, so if you haven’t, Part 1 is here,
Part 2 is here,
and Part 3 is here, Part 4 is here. If you haven’t read those parts yet, don’t
worry, you’ll just miss out on most of the plot is all, no problem. . . . I haven’t
read them either—I just wrote them—but I’ll get to it, eventually.
After Melissa had
kissed him all over, he had her sit on his cock and fuck him while he played
with her tits. Her tits still showed her
enthusiasm from the previous night, bruises and scratches, and she moaned from
the pain of him squeezing them, and so she got off very quickly. He didn’t even need to tell her to cum, just
nodded when she asked permission. She
seemed quite proud of her masochistic handiwork. So was he, in fact.
Afterwards, he told
her to make some breakfast for everybody, and went across the breezeway to he
and Cheryl’s apartment, letting himself in by his key. Cheryl heard him come in, and called out her
morning greeting, inviting him into their bedroom.
Both of them were
naked, and Michelle was on her knees, her mouth full of panties, fucking
herself both in the ass and cunt with 2 large vibrators, in front of Cheryl
facing away from her. Cheryl was holding
one of his leather belts, which she was clearly using to catch up on her belt
whipping, judging by the red marks on Michelle’s ass.
“You’re a fucking
cunt, just a piece of ass for anyone to use, aren’t you, fucktoy?” Cheryl said
toward her, then turned and smiled toward her husband. Michelle nodded her head in enthusiastic
agreement, moaning through her panty gag.
She swung the belt down hard on Michelle’s ass several times, and her
slave squealed, and shuddered, clearly cumming with each stroke, then thrusting
the vibes into her ass and cunt even more vigorously.
“No doubt about it,
Master, she’s a painslut.”
“Seems so, indeed,”
he replied.
“Now, turn over,
fucktoy! I’m going to whip your tits and
cunt.” Michelle immediately turned over and spread her legs.
“Want the first 5
strokes on her tits, Master?” she asked him softly, offering him the belt. “You can reach them easier from the side of
the bed, anyway.”
“Sure,”
and he took the belt and whipped her tits in 5 nice strokes, taking his time. Michelle arched her back to offer her tits
wide open, and squealed with each slap of the belt. He handed the belt back to Cheryl, who then
did the same thing on the inside of her thighs, working in closer until the
last one landed right on her pussy. As
soon as that one struck, Michelle went into a huge orgasm which lasted a good
while. She collapsed back on the bed,
breathing hard, her eyes excited. Then Cheryl
told her to take the panties out of her mouth, and waved her up into her
embrace.
“Thank you,
Mistress!” and kissed Cheryl lovingly on the lips, “and thank you, Sir!”
“So, it looks like
you’re catching up quite a bit, aren’t you?” Greg asked her. The skin was starting to turn red from the
belt, and it looked like she was going to have some nice red welts on the
inside of her thighs.
“Yes, Sir. It’s been great. I haven’t felt so relieved in years—maybe
never before. I didn’t know how much
need had built up. That’s probably why
I’ve been so bitchy these past few years, I guess. I even hated myself, but I don’t feel so
badly now. Thank you for sharing your
wife, Sir.”
“That’s good. And, you’re welcome. I’m sure Cheryl got a lot out of it, too.”
“Yes, Master, she’s
fun. We even got a little sleep,” she
grinned back at him. He chuckled.
“Mel is making
breakfast across the way, so why don’t you two come over . . . and then, of
course, you have all that shopping planned.”
“Yes!
Ok, we’ll be right over.” So, he
went back to Melissa’s.
When he got there, he
sat down on his favorite couch as Candi and Alice came out of their
bedroom. They had been trying on more
sexy clothes, so they were both wearing see-through nighties,
showing them off and they flounced over to him, wiggling their hips in an
exaggerated manner, and sat down on either side of him.
“Good morning,
Master!” Candi said.
“Good morning, Sir .
. . er . . . what am I supposed to call you, anyway?”
Alice said.
“Sir is fine for
now. You’re not my slave—at least, so
far.”
“You mean, I might become your slave?”
“It’s possible . . .
we’ll have to talk about what that means.”
Alice reached over and kissed him on the cheek and smiled brightly.
“I’d like that,
Sir. But, even if I don’t become your
slave, I’d still like you to fuck me, please.
Candi said it was out of this world and you’re the best ever.”
“Heheh—well she
doesn’t have anybody to compare with, but I’ll accept the compliment, thank
you.”
Cheryl and Michelle
walked in, wearing clothes for a change, which Greg teased them about, smiling.
Michelle walked over and kissed her
daughter on the cheek.
“How was your night,
darling?”
“It was great! Aunt Melissa sat on my face while Candi was
fucking Mr. Greg, and we came and I think I passed out or something, so I woke
up in Candi’s bed this morning. Then we
started trying on more sexy clothes, and Candi said I could keep this!” She
said all that very fast, and then she stood up and pirouetted to model her
see-through nightie which did not cover up any of her
‘assets’.
“Don’t I look sexy?”
“Yes, you look very
sexy!” Cheryl and her mother said together.
At that, Alice blushed, suddenly becoming self-conscious.
“Breakfast is ready!”
her aunt called out, which saved her from further embarrassment. Candi and her mom argued a bit about who was
going to get to serve Greg, but otherwise breakfast was uneventful, cheesy
breakfast burritos, with a mild sauce.
“That was very good,
Melissa,” Cheryl said, and the rest of them chorused their agreement. Greg chimed in, but didn’t say anything
else. The truth is he would have
preferred a much hotter version. He had
learned how to make something called “Mexican Ketchup” in San Antonio from his
Hispanic friends there, habaneras, jalapenos tomatoes, garlic, onion, and so
on. Cheryl had choked up and had a
coughing fit, her eyes tearing, just from walking by the kitchen when he’d made
it the first time. “Oh, well,” he thought. “It was still good without the spicy hot part.”
“Thank you,” Melissa
said. “How soon do you want to go
shopping?”
“As soon as I go and
get my purse. I’ll be right back.”
“Alice and I get to
stay home and take care of Master,” Candi said happily. Greg blinked a bit about that, but didn’t say
anything. He had hoped he could get some
paperwork done while they were shopping, but he really didn’t want to dampen
Candi’s happiness, so he decided he’d play it by ear.
The three women got
ready and headed out to shop. Candi went
and got Greg a coffee—with too much rum in it—and took his shoes off and
started rubbing his feet like her mom usually did. Alice looked shy and sat down a few inches
away from him on the couch, so he reached out to hug her closer to this
chest. She smiled and snuggled in.
“Master?”
Candi said to him.
“Yes, pet.”
“Do you think you
could catch up on my spankings? I think
I need one.”
“What makes you think
that?”
“Well, just the
thought of it makes me horny . . . or, you could give me an assignment. And, I haven’t been fucked in the ass yet!”
“Could you give me an
assignment, too, Sir? And, I haven’t
been fucked at all yet.”
He laughed. “You’re giving me lots of choices. Let me relax a bit and then I’ll decide.”
“Ok, Master.” Candi hopped up and went to put on some
relaxing music which played on the speakers scattered somewhat haphazardly
around the room. “That reminds me. You said you can play the guitar?”
“Yes. I’ve been playing acoustic guitar for . . .
oh, about 30 years or so. I’ve written
about 90 songs.”
“YOU WRITE SONGS!”
She said, excited.
“Yes. I have 6 albums out. 3 of them are on iTunes and Amazon and all
those online music stores.”
“Wow!” they both
said.
“Can we hear some of
them?”
“Sure. Bring me the laptop.” He looked them up online, and played some of
the samples.
“Wow! You’re good!”
“Thank you. I’m not real famous, but they bring in some
money.”
“I want to buy all 6
of them. But, I can do that later,” and
she hopped up on the couch and snuggled in on the other side from Alice.
“Now can you give us
an assignment? Please?” blinking her eyes innocently. He laughed at her quick change of subject. He looked over toward Alice, and she was
looking up at him, blinking her eyes innocently, as well.
“Ok, ok, ok. I guess so.”
The assignment was to
“Go get the slut paddle and do a 15 ‘round the world.’ Then go put your buttplugs in and vibes in
your pussy set on medium, and wear thongs to keep them in. But, you can’t cum until I say.”
“What’s a ‘round the
world’?” they both asked.
“You take the slut
paddle and spank your ass, tits and cunt 15 times—or as many times as I say—and
then you pull your nipples out hard and twist for the slow count of 15. Sometimes, I just say ‘do a 10 RTW’, like on a text message or an email, which means you
would do that same set, using 10 as your count.”
“Ooooh
. . . that sounds interesting,” and Candi hopped up
and ran to get the slut paddle, the buttplugs and the vibes. Alice just looked up at him, smiling in her excitement.
When she returned, Candi
didn’t waste any time, started right into it, spanking herself very well, and
moaned when she counted out the nipple pull.
Then she realized that she forgot the thongs, so she ran back to get
them while Alice started her RTW.
Candi might have been
enthusiastic, but Alice made her look like a beginner. Her face looked like she was in ecstasy as
soon as she started, and she REALLY got into it. Clearly, masochistic impulses were very
strong for her, and since this was the first time that someone had commanded
her to do it, she was feeling free to let loose. After she put the buttplug and the vibe in,
with the thong over them, she hopped back on the couch and hugged and kissed
Greg, almost spilling his coffee with too much rum.
“That was sooooo hot, Sir!
I’ll do anything you want if you’ll please fuck me. I’m so horny I could scream” she said.
“Well, don’t scream
in his ear. I did the other day, and
felt like an idiot,” Candi said. Greg
laughed, then he looked at Alice.
“You’re going to
pester me until I do, aren’t you?”
“Well, I wouldn’t
call it ‘pester’ you, exactly. I was
just asking, Sir. And if you don’t want to fuck me, I’ll understand. I’m not very good looking or anything,” she
looked very dismayed at that thought.
“You’re quite
attractive and sexy, so that’s not a problem.
Alright, take your thong off and the vibe out.” She hopped up, almost spilling his coffee
again, so he set it down. She stripped
off the thong, and her pussy was so wet that her vibe fell right out. Candi was smiling and undoing Greg’s shirt
and pants and getting his cock out. He
got up to remove his pants, and then sat back down and helped Alice sit astride
him, and brought her down so she could just rub back and forth against his cock
before he entered her. Then he brought
her close and kissed her and held her close, her tits rubbing against his
chest. Her pussy was already extremely
wet, so it wasn’t long before he lifted her a bit, and Candi directed his cock
to the entrance of Alice’s pussy. She
slid down on it quite easily, although he held her a bit to slow her down, and then
she started posting up and down on his cock, moaning and squealing. He could feel the hardness of her buttplug
through the membrane inside her.
“Y-You are soooo hard, Sir . . . it feels s-sooo
good.” Behind her, Candi started
caressing his balls, so it wasn’t long before he was on the verge of his
orgasm. Suddenly, her pussy clamped down
on his cock, and she moaned out her orgasm—he couldn’t hold it, and sprayed the
inside of her pussy with his cum.
“Ooooooooooh
. . . ooooooooooo . . . ooooooooo,” she
cooed, as her breathing began to slow.
She collapsed against his chest, his cock still inside her. They stayed there for awhile, as his cock
began to lose its hardness. Finally, he
kissed her and moved her gently to the side.
Candi started cleaning his cock with her
mouth, licking his flaccid member and his ball sac gently.
“That was awesome,
Sir,” Alice said. “Thank you so
much. Now, I’m a real woman!”
“And, I might get knocked
up, and have your baby!” She said after she thought a minute about the fact
that he had cum inside her.
“Uh, no, . . . not much chance of that. I had a vasectomy some years ago, so I can’t
have any more kids.”
“Oh, damn!” they both
said. Obviously the thought of getting
knocked up excited them both.
“I’m sorry to
disappoint you, but 2 kids are enough.”
“You have 2 kids?”
“Yes, from my first marriage. They are grown and almost out of college
now. That’s a long story—my first
marriage—and I’d rather not tell it now.”
“Ok, I’m sorry if I
brought up a bad subject,” she said.
“So, Master? Can I have a turn?” Candi asked brightly. “I’m really horny for you. Watching you fuck Alice was sooooo cool!”
He laughed, “Candi,
my pet . . . I think I’m a bit cummed out for now,
and I need some time to recover from the past few days. It was great, but I can only keep up that
pace for so long.“
“Ok, Master. Uhm . . . then, can I take my vibe out now,
or cum, please? I’m going to lift off in
a minute, if I don’t take it out.”
“You may cum, pet. And then you can take it out.” And she did, with great enjoyment.
“Ok, Master? So, when are you gonna’ fuck me in the ass? .
. . I mean, since you can’t right now, when can we schedule it? I can do it Wednesday!”
He just laughed and
laughed at that, while she smiled sheepishly.
“I love you, pet . .
. Com’mere,” waving to both of them to come and
snuggle.
“Can we do the
hypnosis, then, Master, please?”
“I’ll tell you what
I’ll do. If you let me get some work
done today, then tomorrow, I will do the hypnosis with you.”
“YAY!”
Candi said. “Yes, Master, Sir!” and got
up to let him work, heading toward her bedroom, turning to look at Alice from
the hallway.
Alice was looking shy
again. “Sir?”
“Yes,
Alice?”
“I will get out of
the way and let you get some work done, Sir . . . but . . . well, could you
hypnotize me, too? Or maybe we need to
have that talk about being your slave. . . . or something . . . ” She was wringing her hands a bit, biting the
side of her lip, obviously feeling like asking him was a great risk.
“Ah, . . . yes, let’s have that conversation
tomorrow, too . . . and if all is agreeable, then yes, I’ll hypnotize you too.”
“OH! THANK YOU SIR! . . . thank
you, thank you thank you!” and she turned and ran into Candi’s room. He heard Candi say to her before the door
shut, “SEE! I told you that you could
ask him! And next time—don’t act like a
three year old—
He finally got some
work done, about 4 hours of reading and phone calls, and arrangements—among
them, arrangements for Michelle’s new job.
He made a list of choices, including one which was basically a job of
just showing up for pay. He wasn’t sure
how she would feel about getting money without working for it, so there were
other options, although Michelle had enough money for her to coast until the
end of days. And, he was sure Cheryl
would have a contribution to make on that, too, so he waited on the decision,
and just laid out the choices.
When he got to the
point that he was waiting on others to reply to him about questions on various
projects for the corporation, all he could do was wait, so took a break. He told Alice and Candi that he was going
across the breezeway to his own apartment, and went over and started some
spaghetti sauce. Among the list of his
many hobbies, he used cooking to relax, to think through things while stirring
or setting up the various components of the meals. When the sauce was simmering in the
crock-pot, and the pan to boil the spaghetti noodles was ready to go, he went
back across to check on Alice and Candi.
When he let himself
in, he couldn’t hear anything, so he went to Candi’s bedroom, knocking on the
door when he arrived. A naked Candi
opened the door for him, with a string whip in her hand, looking confused. Alice was tied naked and spread-eagle to the
bed frame, face down on the mattress.
Her ass still looked rather untouched, maybe only a few very light red
marks on her skin, so Greg looked at Candi with a raised eyebrow.
“She wanted me to
whip her.”
“Ok. . . . and?”
“Well . . . I can’t.
. . . I just can’t. I’m just mouthy and
pushy . . . I’m not really a dominant.
I’m a slave—or at least, I’m a sub.
I told her that I didn’t think I could whip her . . . and, it turns out
that I was right, Master. I’d much
rather being the one you whip. And, I
don’t think I’d like anyone else whipping me, either, I’d just get mad, so it’s
all confused. But, I can’t do it! . . .
I can’t whip her!” She handed him the
string whip with tears I her eyes, and sat down on the side of the bed, looking
even more confused, forlorn.
“I see. . . . ah . . . so why can’t you just tell her that you can’t do it?”
“I told her
that. I tried, and . . . well.
She says she really needs to be whipped, and I just can’t do it, so I
don’t know what to do. Will you whip
her, Master?”
“Uh, I think she and
I need to have that conversation about what it means to be a slave first, pet.”
“Please, Sir?” Alice
said from the bed. “I really need
it. I was told for all this time—20
years, almost—that fucking was bad, that I might get pregnant and have to
suffer like my mom and my aunt. Then, you
fucked me, and it was sooooo good and I’m not going
to get pregnant, so I feel really guilty because it isn’t working like they all
said it would. And I want to have sex
again, fuck you again, as soon as I can.
I’m a slut! I think I’d feel
better if you whipped me, Sir. My cunt
is bad, it’s thinking for me.”
“Ah. . . . hrmmmm. . . .
I think we need to talk first. One of
the things that you would need to understand is that you don’t decide things
about what I do or don’t do. Everything
isn’t decided based on your needs, although most of the time, I will try to
help you meet your needs, if you’re one of my slaves. I let that go earlier because you’re young
and learning a lot right now, but this time, I’m going to say ‘no’ to your
request. I’m sure you can keep the lid
on things until we talk, either this afternoon or tomorrow.”
“If you want, you can
come over to my place, and we can sit around and talk about it while I’m
cooking the spaghetti. We won’t eat
until your mom and your aunt and my wife gets back from shopping, so we might
have enough time to talk through things about whether you will become my slave
or not.”
“You know how to
cook, too?” Both of them asked it, and both of them looked at me, with a
surprised expression.
“Of
course. I like to cook,
so I’m the cook at our house . . . I’ve always been. But, let me finish this conversation with
Alice, Candi.”
“Yes, Master. I’m sorry.
My big mouth.”
“Yes, Sir . . . I’m
sorry I was pushy, Sir. I will behave,
and yes, I’d like to come over and talk while you cook, please,” Alice said.
“Sure. Candi, untie her. Both of you get dressed, and we’ll go over
there. My wife will call when they are
headed home—she always does—so I’ll let your moms know you’re with me when they
are on the way.”
He stepped out and
grabbed the laptop and some of the paperwork he’d been working on to take
across. By then, they were ready, so
they all went to the other apartment. He
told them to wait or sit down in the living room, and took his stuff into his
office. Then he came out into the
kitchen, and grabbed the rice cooker and set it up to cook. Candi was leaning over the breakfast bar
watching him, her boobs bulging over her low-cut blouse almost showing her
nipples.
“I thought you said
you were cooking spaghetti, Master.”
“I am. Well, so far, I’ve cooked the spaghetti sauce,
so it’s simmering in the crock-pot. I’ll
cook the spaghetti noodles when we’re about ready to eat.”
“You use rice in your
spaghetti?”
“No, no . . .
“You know how to cook
in a real wok? You really amaze me,
Master, all the things you know how to do.”
“Well, yes. I can cook fried rice in a wok like the
Chinese people do. At least, like the
Chinese people do in Chinatown in San Francisco who taught me. An’ sweet and sour and
other stuff. I haven’t learned
how to make the best stuff they make yet.
There is a restaurant in San Jose called ‘Quoc
TE’—or there was when I was there. If
you’re really nice to me, and behave and stuff like that, I can show you how to
cook some of the food like that. Not as
good as they do, but it’s good, all the same.”
“Nice?” Her face
brightened. “I’ll be SUPER nice, Master,
. . . uh, and I’ll behave as good as I know how!” and she reached down and popped
both of her boobs out of her blouse onto the top of the breakfast bar, and made
a kissing sound toward him. He laughed,
and reached out and flicked his fingers hard against her nipples. She squealed a bit, and grinned even broader.
He’d finished setting
up and starting the rice cooker which had an automatic timer, so he got himself
his usual drink, and then he asked them what they wanted, which he mixed for
them, and then sat down in his favorite arm chair facing them on the couch.
Alice had been
sitting there, looking very uncomfortable.
“Are you ok, Alice?”
he asked.
“I’m not sure, Sir. I’m afraid I offended you.”
“No, you haven’t
offended me. I just drew a line that I
chose not to cross, that’s all. The big
thing here is to discuss what it means to be a slave—or, at least what it means
to be MY slave. You may not want to be
my slave after you understand more.”
So, the discussion
started. It was clear that Candi learned
a lot, too. And Greg learned a lot about
how each of them thought and felt about things.
That was good.
“You might want to
think about all that before we go forward, Alice.”
“What’s there to
think about, Sir? I’ve been shut up from
life and everything for years. Becoming
your slave sounds like freedom beyond my wildest dreams, Sir. My mom, bless her, has been trying to make
sure I didn’t repeat the mistakes she made, and now she’s decided that a lot of
them weren’t mistakes in the first place.
She loves your wife, and now that she’s her slave, she’s the happiest I’ve
ever seen her, so far as I can remember.
So, when I become your slave . . . I’m sorry . . . if I become your slave,
Sir, I’d have a chance to learn about all that stuff that I couldn’t learn
before. I was closed up in a medieval
dungeon, chained to a wall that I didn’t make or didn’t have anything to do
with even how it was made, with no hope that it would ever change. With you, Sir, I’d have the chance to
explore, find out what I can do, and what I can’t do. You’re a kind Master, that’s clear to
everyone, and you care, you REALLY care.
And you teach things, so I would learn things I don’t even know if I can
do now. What more could anyone in my
situation ask for, Sir?”
She sort of dove off from
the couch and knelt on the floor facing him, her face almost white with
anguish, her bangs covering most of her face, the shine of her tears dripping
off of her chin. “I pray to God that you
will accept me as your slave, Sir. And,
all I can do is to offer myself to you, all of me, my heart and body is yours,
if you would have me.”
Greg blinked twice, his
eyes almost spilling over, quite moved, and looked at Candi, who had trails of
tears openly running down her face from Alice’s ‘speech.’
There was a very long pause, while Greg collected his
thoughts, and then he cleared his throat.
“Alice?” he finally said, gently.
“Have you ever considered running for a political office,
or becoming a movie screen writer?”
“No, Sir.”
“Your eloquence is quite beyond my expectations, much like
the way you described being my slave as beyond yours. I’d be honored to have such a talented young
woman as my slave, if you’ll accept me as your Master. My only concern is that I’m not sure I can
keep up with your and Candi’s high level of thinking and talent. But I’ll do my best.”
Alice and Candi squealed and Greg flinched back from what
otherwise would have seemed to be 2 women in attack position, flying through
the air toward him. Thankfully, they
landed some inches in front of him, and then reached out and began hugging and
kissing him. He cleared his throat and reflected
that it is good to be wanted . . . and alive.
His cell phone rang and he had to extricate his right arm
from under Alice, still crying, to get it out of his left shirt pocket, which
was covered by Candi’s hair, who was apparently trying to wiggle her face into
his armpit, making sounds like she was crying, too. It felt wet, so she probably was. He answered, since it was Cheryl on the
caller ID.
“Hello?”
“HI! . . . we’re headed home . . .
what’s all that noise? Are Candi and
Alice ok? It sounds like someone is
crying.”
“Uh . . . yeah, they’re fine, at least I think so. They’re just happy. Alice wanted to become my slave, so we talked
and . . . well . . . “
“YAY!” He heard her say something to the
others. “That’s GREAT! We’ll be home in a few minutes to celebrate.
. . . uh . . . but, could all you and the girls give
us a hand carrying things up the stairs.
We bought . . . uh . . . a lot.”
“Uh, I’ll try. They
likely can help whenever they stop crying.”
“Are you sure they’re ok?”
“Babe . . . come on home, and I’ll
meet you downstairs, ok?”
“Yes, Master. I love
you!”
“Love you, too.”
The following hour started with lugging sacks and boxes up
the stairs and stacking them in the two apartments. Greg was rather glad that they didn’t try to
put it all into one of them, because it would have seemed like stacks of boxes
after moving from one house to another, only to move them again.
The next act was a
lot like a circus, people running to and fro, sometimes even dancing in
circles, discovering how exciting a dress was, or that ‘this bo’ goes to Melissa’s place’, or ‘Alice, take this to your
mom’s car, ok?’” Greg was rather
appreciative that he wouldn’t have the foggiest idea where anything should go,
so he got to sit and watch and drink at least 4—he lost count in there
somewhere just exactly how many—rum and cokes as he watched. He even thought about ordering popcorn to eat
while he was watching the show, but since he was a bit tipsy, and he wasn’t
sure if he wanted extra movie theatre butter on his popcorn or not, he decided
he’d wait. He didn’t have to walk much,
because he could holler at one of them for a refill, and since all of them
except Michelle were his slaves, they always did, even Michelle. He even got at least a kiss out of each one
as they served him, and several times he got to fondle some very nice floppy
boobs, which they seemed to enjoy almost as much as he did.
The two notable servings were from Michelle and his
wife. Michelle happened by when he had
just drained his glass, and so she offered courteously to get him a refill, an offer
he accepted. When she returned, she set
it carefully on the end table beside him, and then smiled brightly, and lifted
her head to expose the new leather collar around her neck.
“I got THIS today . . . from your wife. She put it on me in the pet store, trying on
several and then made me wear it through the checkout, so the clerk had to scan
it while it was on my neck. And later at
the adult store, a handsome guy dressed in a suit was eyeing my collar, so
Cheryl told me to offer to suck him off.
He just asked, “Where?” so we went out to the van, and I sucked him off
in the backseat. I was so humiliated, it
was wonderful . . . but, my collar, isn’t it beautiful?”
“Uhm . . . yes, it certainly is,” he replied, smiling.
“She’s such a wonderful woman, Sir. I don’t remember when I’ve felt so happy
before. Thank you so much for sharing
her with me,” she told him, happily, and bent over and kissed him, this time on
the lips. “And since she’s my Mistress
and You’re her Master, she made it clear that you have equal access and power
over me, Sir—or would you rather I call you ‘Master’? I would like to, if you’d like me to, Sir.”
“Let
me talk that over with her, first, ok?”
“Yes, Sir. But, thank you, Sir. Do you need anything else?”
“Not yet, no. Thanks.”
The other notable serving was his wife/slave, Cheryl, who brought
him a refill while no one was paying much attention to them and handed him some
bills, and gave him a kiss. He shuffled
through them, off-hand estimating something like $600-$700. “Where did these come from, babe?”
“Well, whenever we bought things in a store, we’d go up to
the cashier, and Melissa would hand them a debit card and tell everyone, “I’ll
cover this one.” They would ring it up
and she would punch in her pin number and out we’d go. After about 5 stores like that, we started
arguing with her about it, and she’d just smile. So, after that, she’d go up to the cashiers
before we’d even got our stuff and hand them her card and have a conversation
with them . . . so when we’d go up to them, and they’d ring it all up, and then
they’d say . . . ‘Already taken care of, Ma’am.
You’re good to go!’ I almost
confronted her, but then I thought about how much her sister needed since she was
really behind on her bills and needed clothes and stuff, and that Melissa has
19 million dollars and all that, so I just shut up and went with it. There’s still $800 there . . . I managed to
buy them all lunch and dinner is all, Michelle’s collar and leash, and a couple
of my own dresses, but that’s all. And,
I kept $40 for spending money, if that’s ok, Master.”
He looked at her, thoughtfully. “She cheats,” smiling.
“At least she cheats in the good direction for us,” Cheryl
said, smiling.
He just laughed . . . and the circus continued.
The next act in the center ring was trying on clothes. The first part was a bit hard for him to
follow, the nuances of textures of cloth—since he wasn’t sure of the difference
between nylon and silk anyway—and whether the eggplant colored blouse looked
better than the purple one on Michelle and so on, probably because he’d lost
count of how many drinks he’d had up to that point. To him they both looked more or less like
purple, which to him was a generic term, and Michelle looked the same to him
either way, so that’s what he told them. They didn’t seem to appreciate those
particular comments.
He did enjoy watching
them change clothes, though. His
rationale was that some studies on sexuality had rated watching a sexual partner undress as second only to fucking. At least, that’s what he told himself was his
rationale, although he didn’t think that they took into account multiple BDSM
slaves as partners in those studies. Oh,
well.
They had also
purchased clothes for Candi and Alice, who oooh’d and
aaaah’d about each one, even though there was
substantial discussion about whether this particular caprice fit Alice’s hips
or whether the neckline on Candi’s blouse was too high. Both of them could be lower for better
viewing, was his only opinion, although nobody bothered to ask him by then,
considering his previous comment that both eggplant and purple looked the same
on Michelle, “and she is scrumptious either way”. He really wasn’t upset all that much about not
being asked this time, though.
On the other hand, the next act, also in the center ring,
was very interesting to him, indeed.
Apparently, one of the stores which the women had shopped in was the
“Romantix Adult Boutique” just north off of Colfax Avenue, where “Your Pleasure
is Our Passion.” Greg couldn’t have said
it better himself.
He did find the “speeding bullets” vaginal inserts very
interesting, which were “precisely
designed mini massagers that offer the perfect combination of size and power.
Their “state of the art” 5-function motor whispers subtlety as they take you
from zero to ecstasy at a moment’s notice!”
His only criticism was that they were not remotely controlled—a point
which he said out loud.
However, his slave-mel
told him that he remotely controlled her anyway, after she nearly levitated
while demonstrating them, all the while begging him to let her cum, “please,
please, please and mega-please, Master dear, I’ll do anything, even your
laundry for the next 20 years.” He
considered aloud that he might just let her levitate, given that he hadn’t seen
that before, while laundry wasn’t that hard to do, but the other women in the
room started tossing panties, pillows or whatever they could get their hands on
at him, . . . and Candi and Alice told
him they’d kiss him to death—and they sounded quite serious. So, in order to survive, he told her she
could cum. It wouldn’t have been a good
Masterly or manly way to die, after all.
He did enjoy very much the “Maid” costume which was about 3
sizes too small, so it fit Candi very well he said aloud, as her boobs fell out
as soon as she waved her feather duster, and he could see her vibrating panties
quite well under the mini skirt that came with it. Michelle came over and offered to wear any
costume he wanted for dinner that evening, suggesting that he could write any
crude words on her thighs, pussy or tits that he wanted to as well. He chose the low-cut cheerleader costume with
no panties for her since the skirt didn’t cover anything, and wrote “Fuck” and
“Here” on her thighs with an arrow point pointing to her pussy, and “3-Hole Slut”
across the top of her boobs and “My Ass is Yours” across her butt cheeks. She loved the cheerleader fantasy, since she
was never invited to be one in school.
In the end, he came
out of it pretty well, he thought, 20 years of laundry taken care of, surrounded
by horny costumed and lingerie clad slave women, and the spaghetti sauce ready
in the crock-pot, so all he had to do was instruct Candi to cook some spaghetti
noodles. She didn’t know how to do, so
he told Michelle to help her niece.
Unfortunately, Michelle said . . . “I don’t know how to cook anything
either, Sir. I always order out, or we
eat at McDonald’s or Pizza Hut or KFC or whatever is on sale.” Alice nodded in agreement, so he asked Cheryl
to instruct them both on how to boil spaghetti noodles correctly. No wonder she was in debt, he thought, and
most likely crazy from all the side effects of all those additives in the food
they ate all those years.
So, while Cheryl
taught both Candi and Alice how to boil spaghetti noodles, they stood watching
the pasta boil in the large saucepan, Candi still wearing the “Maid costume”
which fit her so poorly that her nipples were still showing and her vibrating
panties were still vibrating away in everyone’s view, so she was soaked with her
own pussy juices from her bush downward.
Alice was wearing the “Miss Cutie Pie” horny schoolgirl outfit from the
Romantix Adult Boutique which was probably 3 sizes too small for her, too, so
her dripping and uncovered pussy lips were also available for any and all video
viewers, and her medium sized tits with puffy nipples looked swollen and sweaty
behind her black bra fabric.
Greg was rather pleased that from his particular angle and
sitting in his favorite chair, he could serve as ‘an esteemed member of the
electoral college’ so to speak, voting in place of the composite of those video
viewers who had voted, or would have voted had they been viewing. He watched carefully as they moved around and
lusted accordingly.
“Master? May I join you?” Melissa had her collar on, and also a nipple
chain and some kind of slinky see-through top around her bodice and a very
seductive see-thru veil over the bottom half of her face which didn’t hide
anything, looking like a belly dancer or a whore from Istanbul. She didn’t seem to have on anything below her
waist when he looked down. Her face was
covered by a see-thru veil, but her cunt seemed as naked and open as anyone
could ask. And she certainly was open,
lifting her right leg up to show her dripping gash to him clearly.
“Uh . . . yes . . . you can join me.” That seemed to be the only choice he had at
the time, and the idea of joining seemed to be a good idea, too. Things were a bit foggy, after all. All that fabric stuff and those color
choices, purple and eggplant were finally contaminating his mind . . . er something was.
After
dinner, Michelle approached him and curtseyed in her cheerleader outfit, and then
bowed. “Sir. I wanted to thank you more personally, so I
told your wife that, and she said for me to come over here and seduce you and
to sleep with you tonight. And she said
it would be great if I became your slave, too.
And then I could call you Master, and I will do whatever you would
command. So, I’m here, Sir, and I will
say that I’m personally very happy with her assignment. Use me as you wish.”
He blinked. “Can we
do it in the morning?” he asked, thinking at the time through all those rum and
cokes that was a rather intelligent response.
“I could use a good rub-down . . . massage . . . whatever you call it,
though.”
“Indeed, Sir. . .. let’s go to your bedroom, then.”
After that, all he remembered was someone rubbing him all
over, and that meant ALL OVER . .. and under and in and even some jerking on his cock included
. . . all the private parts suitably rubbed.
It felt so good . . . sooooo very good as he
went to sleep.
To be continued in Part 6 which hasn’t
been written yet . . . however, Part 1 is here,
Part 2 is here,
and Part 3 is here, Part 4 is here. If you haven’t read those parts yet, don’t
worry, you’ll just miss out on most of the plot is all, no problem. . . . I
haven’t read them either, but I’ll get to it, eventually—keep your panties on,
ladies. I just wrote them, after all.
It’s hard to keep up sometimes.
[And yes, guys, that’s a joke so you can keep your pants on, too.]
I’m very interested
in your comments and suggestions—or questions—so if you would be so kind to
take a minute and go here and
send them, I’d appreciate that very much.
If you include your email (optional), I’ll try to reply as soon as
possible.
I have appreciated
the comments and reviews my readers have already sent, so please continue to
send them. If you like the story or
series enough, consider listing it in “Reader’s Recommendations” on the ASSTR
home webpage.
I will continue the story if there is
enough interest, so please let me know what you think. I’m a writer in other settings, but I’m still
learning about the ASSTR system, so if you have technical corrections,
suggestions or guidance, feel free to send those as well here.
Don’t miss my other
stories, including the “Her New Name Series” which you can find here.
Thanks,
~SM~