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Suzanna's Darlings Ch. 01

By: LordOfHell



Welcome reader! Before you begin, a couple things of note:

This is the eighth chapter in my longest-running saga. The saga has three different storyarcs which go in the following order:

Ariadne's Dreams (Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4)

Barry's Sluts (Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3)

Suzanna's Darlings

I recommend reading the previous chapters first, but this story does stand on its own. Regardless of what you choose, I hope you enjoy yourself and please leave a comment.

******

ELEVEN YEARS AGO

"I'll be there soon. Just hang on!" the text said again. Same as the one a half-hour ago. And the half-hour before that. And the one before that. And—

If she was crying, Suzie Mendez couldn't tell from the cold rain splashing against her cheeks. If she were angry, she wouldn't know it from the cold wind which chilled her to the bone. Three hours of bombardment from cruel nature had made her body numb, and three hours of humiliation from cruel people had made her heart the same.

I trusted him, her thoughts growled inside her head. I told him I loved him, and I trusted him!

Peter Munroe. The boy she'd pined two years for. The only boy who bothered to speak to her or even acknowledge that she existed. He'd kissed her earlier that day, told her about the feelings he held for her, said he wanted her to be his. He had asked her to wait exactly at this spot until drove by to pick her up and take her to dinner. Suzanna was walking on air the rest of the day. Her life had become a dream. She broke her word to her parents and snuck away just to obey his wishes.

And now what did she have to show for it? Soggy clothes, goosebumped skin, and possibly pneumonia.

But still, he waited another half hour. Hoping against hope. Two hundred and ten minutes after she'd arrived, she received another message.

"I'll be there soon. Just hang on!"

She tossed her phone to the curb and watched it shatter into a dozen pieces. Then, a morose and gloomy teenager began a long trek back to the parents who were certain to feel that this humiliation was not punishment enough for her disobedience.

***



The laughter that burst all around her as she entered the classroom didn't surprise Suzie in the least. In truth, she'd expected it. She'd spent half the night dreading it, and had soaked an extra thirty minutes in the shower trying to prepare for it. The whole class shared a hearty guffaw while their eyes were trained on her, their stares and crowing never ceasing, never pausing, as she stepped slowly toward her desk. She told herself not to look at them, to avoid their gazes as much as possible, but she couldn't help herself. She kept finding her eyes surfacing, meeting dozens upon dozens of laughing faces.

Then, she sneezed . . . another cruel result of yesterday . . . and dropped all of her books in the process.

As impossible as it seemed, somehow the laughter's volume increased, and it did so again when a faceless foot came to kick and scatter her books out of her reach.

Suzie tried to ignore it, tried not to care. But she couldn't help it. She wept, and her wet, blurry eyes only made her things that much harder to collect.

"Hey, hold up a sec," a voice said. "I'll help you over there."

She recognized that voice. It was him.

"I'll be there soon. Just hang on!"

The laughter started all over again and Suzie just sat there and took it as best she could before the teachers arrived to see what the commotion was. By the time they entered, every child had their ass in a seat and were somehow miraculously transformed into a class of angels. Suzanna merely took what small favors she could and eventually found her seat . . . just as the girl behind her chuckled and whispered:

"You're such a loser, Suzie."

******

NOW

Trena entered the Master's office, noting that Suzanna and Chandra were both already there. The blonde and redhead were laying on the bed beside each other, with the heavily-pregnant Suzanna lightly running her fingers across the equally-pregnant Chandra's gorgeous round belly. A shimmering silver chain linked the horny women together. One end was hooked to Chandra's collar and the other to Suzanna's with barely enough room for the two to move. Their bodies were, effectively chained together, forcing them to remain intimately close to one-another, bound like cattle.

They didn't seem to mind. In fact, both glanced at Trena the way wolves glance at a lost lamb, beckoning her to join them and attach herself to the loose end of the chain. Her pussy began to trickle.

But first things first.

"You summoned me, Master?"

A nude Barry Garrett glanced up from the papers on his desk and took lewd notice of her slutty leather corset. Trena had picked it out herself just yesterday, choosing it specifically because the cups and crotch could be unzipped, allowing her to parade around the mansion with her naughtiest bits on display at all times. Besides Ariadne and Imani, Trena possessed the biggest rack of all of the Sluts, though in her case it was artificially enhanced. Still, her master seemed to like seeing her tits on display, so she wore this specifically to highlight them for his viewing pleasure. To entice him to fuck her each time he saw her.

Times like right now.

Barry nodded, and she stepped inside, spinning on her six inch heels to close the door behind her. She then walked to the center of the room, bringing her lean feminine body in full view of the Master and her two Slut sisters, proudly whoring herself for their viewing delight.

Like all of his slaves, Trena had been pierced and tattooed. In her case, her piercing was a tongue barbell, designed to provide him with maximum pleasure whenever he fed his thick, ten-inch cock to her mouth: one of Trena's favorite sexual activities. Almost nothing else got her off more than throating a cock and then swallowing the juice afterward. This was, in fact, the basis for her Slut Name: 'Cock Guzzler', which remained tattooed in obvious letters upon her neck.

The other girls were also branded and pierced elsewhere. Chandra had been pierced with studs on the hood of her pussy, with multiple rings adorning both sides of her inner labia and one final cluster right under her anus. Dangling from her pussy lips was a tiny pendant in the shape of a bucket, and the words "Cum Bucket" were tattooed right on her pubic area, where the Master had ordered her to remain freshly shaved. This reminded Chandra and everyone else of her one and only purpose.

Suzanna, aka "Baby Farm", was pierced mostly around her belly and navel, with six studs circling her belly button and a large 3 carat diamond directly in the center. The rest of her belly was pierced in several spots, with gold chains dangling across her ever-expanding womb. Thanks to her beautiful, stretched, pregnant belly, the rock glittered magnificently and the chains became tauter with every passing week that she grew. It always made the other Sluts a bit jealous, as it reminded them that she was the 'Favorite'. Like all the other women, Suzanna had been pierced and tattooed at the body part where the Master most valued them, which was why "Baby Farm's" pregnant belly was her most decorated place.

After soaking up as much of the horny Chinese Slut as his eyes could take, Barry stood from the desk, revealing a stiff and ready cock. His eyes fell to the floor once, and Trena was on her knees a second afterward, her mouth open with eagerness. He placed one hand atop her head and thrust his hips forward, taking the head of his cock straight to her throat. Her muffled cries vibrated across his length as she came immediately.

"Cock Guzzler, I've decided that I'm going to breed you," he told her after waiting for her to simmer down.

Trena's attention perked up, and she glanced at the two pregnant girls to her left. They smiled at her approvingly before turning to wrestle each-others' tongues in their mouths, keeping a lustful gaze on her spectacular throat-fucking, in awe of what Trena did best.

It was her greatest source of pride. No one sucked cock like Trena Lin.

"You are easily one of my favorite Sluts," Barry told her as he kept up his pace, "and you've been immensely loyal to me from the very beginning. You, more than most, chose to serve me eagerly and devotedly, and it hasn't gone unnoticed. As a reward, I'm ending your contract with Stallion Productions prematurely. You will stop filming pornography and your job will be to accompany me at all times. I want your pussy available to me whenever I want it, and I want to flaunt your pregnant belly while it carries my child."

Trena moaned, her pussy growing wetter and wetter by her Master's words. He wanted her to carry his children? It was no secret to anyone now that he had fathered sixteen already, with both Suzanna and Chandra sporting two pregnant bellies in her very presence, but he had never asked Trena herself to do so before.

But now, here he was . . . telling her that she was going to bear his offspring. Not asking her, not pitching the idea—but saying in no uncertain terms that this was to happen. The authority in his voice was absolute. There was no mistake: she would be bred. The commanding tone made her lip quiver and her body ten times hotter.

"I'm looking very forward to breeding my favorite Chinese Slut." He paused for a moment as his rolled his eyes back. A moment afterward, his warm, silky cum exploded into her mouth, and she leaned back just a tad so that it wouldn't go directly down her throat. She let him cum in her mouth and tongue eagerly waiting for every last drop to escape. When she was certain there was nothing left, she swished her master's cum in her mouth like mouthwash, thoroughly enjoying the taste.

Her sister Sluts couldn't help themselves and crawled from the bed, still chained so that they needed to move in unison. All three women pressed their mouths and tongues together as they shared the Master's milky seed between them. Whenever even a drop escaped, the other girls would help by licking it from her sister's face. They refused to waste a drop of his precious juice.

"A baby with our combinations is going to look absolutely gorgeous. Don't you agree, Cum Guzzler?"

Trena smiled and nodded as she and Suzanna kissed. "Yes, Master."

His head tilted as he considered her response. "if you have any other thoughts about it, I'm willing to listen."

Trena leaned back and gazed up at her Master from the floor. She found it hard to keep eye contact, as his cock was still sturdy as steel, and the rest of her wholes still felt dry and empty. Her cravings were starting, and she wasn't sure how long she could fight them.

"I can't question your decision, Master," she told him. "But . . . I'm going to miss my work. Regardless, as you've commanded, my holes will be for you alone from now on, and I will keep my . . . urges in check."

He chuckled as if she'd said something childish. "As if I'd even ask you to do that . . .!"

She was confused. "But . . . but Master, if you want to breed me, then your cock will be the only one I—"

Barry turned to the other girls and nodded. The two of them both reached underneath the bed and produced two items. At first, Trena couldn't see what they were, but as the girls stood and slipped on their equipment, she understood. They were two long, ten-inch dildos, molded precisely to the specifications of the Master's cock.

"Yes," Barry told her. "My cock will be the only one you experience from this day on. I have zero intention of sharing you with any other men now . . . but, that doesn't mean I'm inconsiderate of any of my Sluts' needs . . ."

The two girls surrounded Trena and began touching her everyplace they could reach. Suzanna's hand immediately cupped her pussy and stimulated her moist folds and Chandra kissed and sucked on Trena's mouth while fondling her sister Slut's breasts. In the meantime, they steadily led her toward the bed, where Barry laid down with his cock towering in wait.

Not needing any instruction, Trena mounted him and immediately slipped his cock inside her, sinking her entire body until her ass rested upon his balls. A pair of hands pushed her forward, and the Chinese slut felt her asshole being invaded by the thick artificial shaft. But it was amazingly real! She could almost believe that her Master had split his cock in two and was fucking her from both angles now. The feeling was indescribable!

Chandra came to the side and then plugged Trena's mouth with the third cock, and Trena sucked on it as eagerly and enthusiastically as she would her Master's real meat. With everyone then in place, the bed started to wiggle.

Barry held her Trena's hips and fucked her pussy while Suzanna leaned her tits against her back and scooped her D-cups. Chandra's hands gently massaged Suzanna's back while the blond fucked Trena's asshole. Trena screamed with the excitement she always got from having each of her holes filled. After drinking cum, this was her second-favorite activity, easily. This was the only thing that could ever truly satisfy her cravings—to have her body used to its massive effect, and made completely airtight.

The rhythmic dance continued for well over forty minutes until Barry finally came close to cumming. Trena made sure to buck harder against him, and that made Suzanna's cock slide into her deeper and harder as well. Trena slid her mouth from Chandra's shaft for a moment, forced to do so in order to speak.

"Breed me, Master," she told him. "I wasn't scheduled to work for another week, so I haven't taken my pills in some time. I'm as fertile as I can be, my Master . . . fertile and waiting to hold your baby in my slutty womb."

Barry groaned harder, and she smiled. "That's right, Master. I'm going to bear a half-Chinese, half-Irish baby for you. I've never thought about being mommy before, but that's okay. My body exists to serve you."

Barry began fucking her in earnest, and she could feel his cock stiffen fully. She gasped and bucked as hard as she could.

"Us Asian girl make great babymama, don't you know?" she said in a stereotypically Asian accent. "Especially for strong white stud like you. Me love you, Mastah. Me love you long time."

"Oh you racist little Slut," Barry growled. She was sending him over the edge with that. Barry thrust up as hard as he could and punched to the hilt before emptying his balls into Trena's warm and fertile cunt, thoughts only of breeding her tight Asian pussy on his mind.

At the same time, Chandra pushed her artificial cock back into Trena's mouth and pressed deep. She squeezed the strap-on's ballsack and a flood of cum squirted out into Trena's mouth. Meanwhile, Suzanna must have done the same behind her, because her ass was filled with thick cream just at the exact moment her pussy and throat had been. A startled Trena screamed in ecstasy immediately, savoring the feeling of having each of her holes filled at the same time.

Barry petted her and smiled. "I know how much you love being filled simultaneously, Slut, so I ordered a set of ejaculating dildos for each of my girls. Whenever I have the chance, I'll fill them and keep them until it's time for use. I'll never waste a drop of my cum again. It will all go to my most loyal Sluts, like you."

Trena collapsed on his chest, breathing heavily even as streams of his seed oozed from her lips. "I -- I love you, Master," she said between gasps. "I've loved you for a long time."

"Ah-Ah," Barry tisked, cupping his hand under chin and bringing her lips closer. "You're wasting it."

He then kissed her deeply, savoring both the taste of his own cum in his slave's mouth and the feel of the gold barbell which made her his and his alone.

******

TEN YEARS AGO

Graduation day soon came. The good news was that the months pass by far more quickly after you stop giving a shit about anything. The bad news was that a school year of hell is the same no matter how quickly it passes. At the end, she was just phoning in the last few weeks, once valedictorian status was a lock. She could get some measure of pleasure watching the rest of the hapless idiots sweating their final tests, term papers and projects.

She made sure they saw her laughing about it whenever possible.

The way her parents had planned it, she would waste no time and enrolled for college courses immediately for the summer. She had even taken extra initiative and managed to secure a modest little apartment somewhere close to the school, where's she'd officially start living on her own mere days after her graduation. Her parents applauded her "gumption" and gave her several thousand as a graduation gift. Dad even helped her move her things in. With the biggest smile on her face, she watched his car peel away as she waved from the archway of her building.

Then she ducked into her Honda and executed the final phase of her plan.

She was her own woman now. High school was finished, she had her own apartment, and she'd specifically chosen this University because no one else in her class would be attending. No one knew her here. She was just another face. After four years of festering, rotting and suffocating in that hellhole, she was free and could do anything she damn well pleased.

And that meant it was time for "Suzie Mendez" to die.

Fourteen hours. That's how long it takes to kill yourself. To take everything you were for eighteen years and flush it down life's crapper.

Seven hours at the salon, getting a full manicure, pedicure, facial, and the sluttiest hairstyle and makeup you can manage.

Three hours picking out the most whorish ensemble you could find—an outfit that almost makes any man you meet think you're advertising your own rape.

Two hours finding the skankiest heels that ever slipped onto store shelves, guaranteed to make you walk like a prostitute.

Forty-five minutes sitting at a bar, waiting for the first guy with the balls to buy you a drink.

And last, but certainly not least, an hour and fifteen minutes popping your cherry, having the raunchiest sex you can in every orifice and giving away your own body as meat.

That was what it took to finally kill Suzie Mendez, a weak, pitiful little wretch who had no control over anything that happened around her. A girl who thought so little of herself that she sacrificed her own pride for a man who barely counted as above average at best. But now, she'd proven that she could have any man that she wanted. Hell, judging from the admiring eyes, she probably could have taken any woman she wanted as well. The power was rich and intoxicating.

Suzie Mendez couldn't die fast enough.

All hail the new Queen Bitch: Suzanna.

******

NOW

Eight weeks ago, Barry Garrett purchased the property now known "Stallion Ranch": a 3000-acre estate located in Los Angeles County. This area, which contained geography such as a crystal blue lake, lush woodlands, and many divine, majestic mesas, would be the new home for Master Garrett and all twenty-one of his collared submissives. The twenty-seven year-old entrepreneur had begun to recognize that he was spreading himself far too thin as of late, and being so far from his "kin" was starting to become a problem. By moving all of his submissives, their children, and limited extended family into the Ranch, he'd be pulled in far less directions and able to address these issues as they came up.


Suzanna's Darlings Ch. 01



He'd sold his previous house in Beverly Hills, but retained ownership of his original family home in Chicago—there were far too many precious memories there to let go. At the moment, the house would be occupied by Rick Swanbeck, the brother of one of Barry's secondary submissives, Emily Swanbeck. Rick was happy to live in what he called a "mansion", although it was barely a one-story home with a basement. It was scarcely a blip compared to the 130-room villa the Ranch boasted.

But to Rick, it was just dandy. He got a sweet home to crash in, and Barry kept his childhood home intact. And that was all that mattered for either of them.

The "ranch" idea was one of several Barry had borrowed from his old "friend", Rod Styles. Rod had once owned the Styles Ranch in Vegas and used it to throw parties and get-togethers. As everyone later found out, most of these parties were being used to as fronts for various criminal activities, as Rod was later discovered to be the kingpin of the largest criminal empire in the USA. Rod's mansion was later searched and confiscated by the feds, and they were still trying to dig up all of the drugs and bodies hidden on the entire estate.

 Sure, Rod Styles turned out to be one of the biggest scumbags that had ever lived . . . but, hell, a good idea was a good idea.

There were, of course, new rules concerning life on the Ranch. With so much space and so many people coming and going as they pleased, there had to be some laws handed down. They had all been either written or approved by the Master himself, and categorized by severity. None of the rules were ever to be broken, of course, but punishment would be most severe for the top clauses and much less severe for the ones near the bottom. Barry made sure that every person who lived there understood what was expected and agreed to obey.

An abridged version of the rules went as such:

----

1. Barry Garrett is the undisputed, unrivaled Master of the estate. No one may make a decision concerning his property without his notification and consent. "Property" includes décor, items, animals, and especially the Master's slaves and offspring. In the event that the Master cannot be contacted, decisions shall be meted out by his wife and Alpha Submissive, Madame Suzanna Garrett. Should neither be reachable, their duties will be fulfilled by his mother and Beta Submissive, Mistress Ariadne Garrett. Should none of these individuals be available, contact the Garretts' attorney for instruction.

2. No slave is ever to engage in intimate contact with any party whom the Master has not yet approved of. This will always include male residents and guests, unless stated otherwise. Contact with unapproved females is frowned upon, but may be acceptable in cases to be determined by the Master. Any resident, guest or slave who fails to adhere to this rule to the Master's satisfaction will be potentially exiled from the premises. No exceptions.

3. All collared slaves (with only ONE exception) are expected to reside at the Ranch and remain ready for their Master's service. Failure to comply will forfeit the slave contract and terminate the master-slave relationship.

4. Clothing is optional throughout every corner of the Ranch by all guests and residents. In fact, all slaves will either be nude or in slave harnesses approved by the Master. Other residents and guests may choose their dress code of choice, but the Master reserves the right to make any changes he sees fit. Failure to comply will result in summary discipline and, possibly, expulsion from the premises.

----

There were more, but these four rules were considered the "keystones"—the tenets around which all Ranch life revolved. No resident was allowed to move in without knowing them intimately, and guests were given a clear summation upon access. Other than these rules, most other things merely followed common sense and good courtesy.

In large part, it was easy to adjust to life there. The women enjoyed putting their bodies on display at all hours, proudly comparing the piercings and tattoos the Master had marked them with, and lounging about without any concern for their nudity. Almost everywhere, there were naked beauties enjoying the easy life. With two exceptions, none of the twenty-one women at his beck and call now retained a profession. Upon moving to the Ranch, their sole full-time job had become to serve the Master in whatever capacity he desired.

Quite often, a Slut sunbathing on the lawn would awaken to find her Master casting a shadow, waiting for her legs to spread for him. Then, he would fuck his slave through multiple orgasms, and always meet his own satisfaction before cumming wherever he chose. The fucked slut was then free to go about her own business, unless the Master decided that he still had use for her.

Slaves weren't the only permanent residents, though. Two of Barry's submissives, happily married, had moved their cuckolded husbands onto the Ranch under the explicit understanding that their pussies were off-limits to the hubbies. Sympathetic and appreciative of the sacrifice these men were making for their wives' happiness, Barry actually took the time to sit and discuss this with them, making sure that this arrangement was something they desired.

"You understand, gentlemen, that this means both you and your wives become my property, living to serve me as I see fit?"

The two men looked at each other and nodded. "Yes sir," they said simultaneously.

"If, for any reason, you become uncomfortable with these arrangements, you may leave . . . as could your wives if either chose to. However, you cannot force them to leave, nor do you dictate any terms of their servitude whatsoever. My relationship with them is separate from your marital bonds, and in a way, overrules them. They are not ordinary submissives. They are collared, which means they are wholly mine. I will never do anything to harm them, or yourselves for that matter, but otherwise I expect complete obedience from both wife and husband.

"Furthermore, your wives will not be on birth control, and I will climax anyplace on their bodies that suits me. If they become pregnant, their children are my property, and you have no parental claim over them." He turned to the older bald man in his fifties. "Jim, you know what I'm talking about don't you?"

Jim nodded. His wife Susan had given birth to the Master's tenth child two years ago: a beautiful girl named Diana. He'd had twenty-three months to become familiar with Barry's paternity rules.

"Yes sir, Master Barry," he said with a smile. "Di is happier than ever, she has the baby my blanks could never give her, and I get to kick back and play golf all I want. I don't regret a thing!"

Though Jim and Diana had been raising Barry's child together before the move, they were now part of the collective of adults who were charged with all the childrens' rearing and protection. Every adult was part of this collective, as the children were the number one priority. Many of the residents, such as Barry himself, Diana, and Suzanna, were all certified in teaching and education, allowing them to give lessons on numerous subjects. Others, such as Barry's slaves Ariadne, Chandra, and Kitten, were all experienced mothers or caregivers. The kids were well cared for, and there were many excellent private schools in the surrounding area as well.

And yet, the kids were still easily the toughest part of living at the Ranch. None of the Master's sixteen children were to ever be without an adult supervising them at any time, which meant that headcounts were constantly being taken whenever the young ones were grouped. A team of crack security specialists, all hand-picked by Barry himself, were also charged with their protection, as well as the safety and privacy of everyone else who lived on the Ranch. But again, the children were their top responsibility, as 3000 acres was a lot of space for something to go horribly wrong.

All in all, it had cost him over one-hundred-million dollars to purchase, but the Ranch was quickly making Barry's dreams much easier to make real. Some might have called the place 'Heaven', which suited Barry just fine. As a professional hedonist, it was his job to create paradise on Earth, for all those who were too impatient to experience it in the Beyond.

******

Suzanna Garrett nee Mendez loved her new life as her husband's collared Slut.

She was far more experienced with BDSM than he was, but he was by far the more dominant between the two. In fact, Barry was easily the most dominant person she'd ever met in her life, with an absolute refusal to lose or to be denied. He never settled for anything less than what pleased him. He was always in control, even when out of his element. As the years passed, Barry's confidence and boldness had only grown.

But at the same time, he was very kind, loving and responsible. The best part of having him as a master was that you could completely, absolutely submit to him and know that you would be taken care of.

Until a year and a half ago, Suzanna had been a porn star. A very popular and famous porn star at that. She'd met her husband fairly early in her career and in the early years of their marriage, they maintained an "open" marriage, which consisted of her fucking strictly behind the camera while he could always choose to fuck anyone he damn well pleased. The arrangement wasn't exactly "even", but it was fair, and they both enjoyed it.

But like all things, eventually it had to change.

Her gentle hand fell upon the round, naked pregnant belly she proudly sported. Finally, she was carrying his child—her body was making a baby for the man she loved. She happily played with her swollen breasts, eager to dream of what her own breast milk would taste like. She'd had sampled it from the tits of other women, but never from herself, and all women tasted different.

While this would be her first child, this would be her husband's seventeenth. He'd developed quite the fetish for pregnant women over the years, so nearly every Slut he collared was nearly guaranteed to bear at least one child for him at some point, although he rarely bred them intentionally. Only a very select few ever had that privilege. And Suzanna herself had an even greater privilege.

She had been named as her husband's—her Master's—"Baby Farm". His favorite breeding Slut.

It was an honor that had been once held by his very first lover . . . his own mother, Ariadne. But Ariadne was now well into her late forties, and her body was winding itself down. It was time for Suzanna to take her place. As her Master's wife, she had always known that she would eventually be the mother of his children, but this was an even greater responsibility and challenge. It was her job . . . no, her purpose . . . to remain pregnant.

Just as Ariadne had before her, Suzanna would not spend more time than absolutely necessary without a baby in her belly. Even a week . . . no, even a day . . . without a child growing inside her was sacrilege. Now that she had been collared and entrusted with this task by her Master—the man she loved more than anyone on this Earth—her body existed for the sole purpose of growing his babies.

And that was precisely why he'd named her his 'Baby Farm'.

But it had been a rough road to get here, and Suzanna had sacrificed much. Hell, in her ambition to be collared and bred, she'd almost sacrificed everything . . . ironically, even her husband's love. For thirteen months, she'd allowed her behavior and her attitude to grow more erratic and irrational, until Barry had become convinced that she'd had an affair.

The fact that he could even begin to think such a thing showed how badly she'd fallen.

And the really strange thing was, she didn't even know why. Why had lied to her husband for thirteen months? Why didn't she trust him enough to tell him what her plans were? Why didn't she think he'd understand, when all he ever showed her was love?

Well, that's what they were here to find out.

Suzanna stood up as her husband entered the "Teaching Chamber", followed by four of her other collared "sisters". He was dressed in a simple outfit: a pair of hard black boots, fingerless black gloves, rugged black jeans, and a tight black tank top, ironically known as a "wife-beater".

Somewhat ominous, considering what she was here for.

The other girls stood near the door, placing themselves at attention so that their naked breasts perked and their arms remained locked behind their back. They would remain there unless the Master gave them an order, or unless they found some other preemptive way to serve his needs.

In the meantime, the show would just be between the two of them—husband and wife, master and slave, disciplinary and transgressor. But before they were to begin, he needed to check over the machine assembled in front of them, making sure that it seemed adequate for his purposes.

When satisfied, he turned to her with fierce eyes. From merely a glance, she could tell that he would not be gentle, despite her condition. Barry knew well how much a young, pregnant woman could take. He would make sure she felt it, but it would never put his baby at risk. He intended this to be punishment for her, but naturally, not for his own child.

"You understand why you're here, yes?" he asked her.

"Yes, Master," she nodded.

"My Baby Farm, recently you've taken actions that have greatly displeased me. And while those actions were committed before you began wearing my collar, I think it warrants attention. I consider those actions unacceptable, and never to happen again for the remainder of your servitude.

"Is that clear?"

"Yes, Master."

He nodded to one of the women, Emily, the creator of the contraption that would be used in today's lesson. She immediately got to task, opening the shackles and manacles that would soon hold Suzanna's arms and feet, keeping her unable to move for the duration. When she had finished, she nodded to the Master once, and he turned back to Suzanna.

"Step inside," he ordered.

******

EIGHT YEARS AGO

<This section is translated from Spanish>

"Momma, Poppa," Suzanna said into the phone. "I'm getting married!"

Several long, grueling moments passed without a response. Suzanna started to repeat herself when finally her father spoke up.

"You never even told us you had a boyfriend, Suzie," he said with an admonishing tone. "How long have you known the guy?"

The fact of the matter was, Suzanna had only known her future husband, Barry, for no more than a year, and even then, their relationship had been mostly long-distance in recent months. Barry wasn't a local to Fresno, like she was. Most of his time was spent seeing to his other family—specifically, the children he had fathered with his own mother.

But there was no need for her parents to know that last part. No need for them to know that he'd saved her life. No need to know that they'd spent months fucking like rabbits, doing every nasty thing that could be thought of. There was no need for them to know anything at all except the essentials, really: there was a man she loved and she was going to marry him.

Besides, she had been living a secret life for years, and giving them too much information now would just open a can of worms she had no intention of dealing with. As far as they knew, she was still a virgin, had never had a boyfriend, and was in school to become a nutritionist.

How could she tell them that Barry, her soon-to-be-husband, was her second boyfriend and that they'd never even known about her first?

How could she tell them that she'd finished school months ago with no intention of fulfilling her old dream of being a nutritionist?

How could she tell them that she intended to remain a porn actress for the rest of her life?!

"I've known Barry for a while now," she answered with intentional vagueness. She watched her mother shift in her seat uncomfortably. "I've fallen in love with him."

They didn't react to that second line at all, as if it had absolutely no weight on the situation. "Why didn't he come with us to meet you?" he mother said first.

"And what's his last name?" her father added.

"He's out of town on business for the next week or so, and we're marrying as soon as he returns. And his last name is Garrett."

She saw their eyeballs twitching, trying to index any rich or famous people they knew with the surname 'Garrett'. But it was far too common a name.

"What does he do?" her mother asked.

"He works in the movie industry," she replied, comfortably providing a truthful answer. "He's a producer."

"Hollywood?" Poppa asked hopefully.

"No, smaller." When his face twisted, she added, "but the studio he owns is worth several hundred million."

And like that, their shoulders loosened. "Well . . . he seems like a nice enough boy," her father said.

"And as long as you're happy . . ." her mother said as she patted Suzanna's leg.

Oh yeah, money changes everything doesn't it? Suzanna thought with an invisible sigh. A minute ago, you were just FISHING for excuses to disapprove, but now that you know he's money, and he's your new best friend. Suddenly, it's all about what 'makes me happy'. You guys are unbelievable. Thanks Mom and Dad.

She grinned at them. "You guys are unbelievable. Thanks, Mom and Dad!"

They reached for her, and she leaned in to hug them.

******

NOW

"I want you to explain to me why you did what you did," her Master said as he took a hard flogger to her ass cheek. Suzanna yelped in pain before she could respond, and the force from his strike made her knees wobble. But that wasn't a problem, what with the large metal frame that she was hooked to, with long steel frames strapped lengthwise to her legs and arms, keeping her immobile and bent with her ass facing the Master and her face facing her slave sisters.

Today was a day Suzanna had long been dreading: the day she'd be punished for her past year of stupidity. She had made everyone in her new family very worried, going out on her own without explanation and then lying about what she'd been up to. She'd even lied to Barry himself! Even if they were only 'partners' in marriage at the time, and she had not yet been collared, she was his property, and she should have known better.

"Answer me!" Barry said, giving her ass a light enough tap that she could speak through the pain.

"I . . . I was trying to have a baby for you, Master," Suzanna stammered.

"I asked you why you did it, not what you did." Another loud smack pelted her ass and rang through the room. Even the other girls had to wince at that one, and Suzanna's left cheek was on fire.

"I . . . I wanted to be the favorite, Master!" she cried out.

"What was that?" he gave another gentle smack. "And keep your eyes facing front. I don't want you turning this way, no matter what. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Suzanna gulped. "I said that I wanted to be your favorite slut, Master! And . . . I thought the best way would be to make a baby for you!"

He spanked her again, and her body quivered. When the pain began to recede, the flogger gently touched the inside of her thighs, slowly teasing her flesh. It was nearly unbearable—going from such intense pain to pleasure was almost too much. Even in this uncomfortable position—with a belly nine weeks inflated—she was in so much ecstasy that she could almost burst.

She needed to hurry up and give him what he demanded. She would die without a cock in her pussy before long!




Suzanna's Darlings Ch. 01



"Did you think that making me worry would make you a favorite?"

Again, she swallowed. "N-No, sir . . ."

"But you didn't bother telling me where you were going. Me . . . the man you were devoted to and had sworn to honor and obey!"

Again, he smacked her ass, and Suzanna was nearly in tears. Both from the pain and from the humiliation of knowing he was right. "I was foolish, Master," she sobbed. "Foolish and selfish."

Again, he went back to pleasuring her, sliding the length of the flogger between the crack of her ass, slowly massaging her exposed asshole with the shaft. Suzanna moaned even as she sobbed. She was broken; her body's sensations utterly controlled her now. Even though she was well aware of how her husband had done it, she was powerless to fight it. She'd used this same pleasure-pain alternation to train him years ago, and but he'd mastered it and turned it into an art form. Now, he was so good at it that even an experienced domme like her stood no chance.

She glanced up at her fellow submissives—Ariadne, Trena, Chandra, and Imani. They watched her with sympathetic but stoic expressions.

The most humiliating thing was that Suzanna was their leader. In any other stable, such a blatant show of weakness would lose the respect of the other slaves—but not with Master Barry's Sluts. Every one of them knew how powerful and dominant he truly was, so it was no surprise to see even a woman like Suzanna completely at his mercy.

Seeing their leader, the Alpha Slut, being broken like this would serve as a lesson for them all. This would be their fate should they ever fail to please the Master.

This would make her better. If there was anything Barry knew, it was how to get inside someone's head and find out what made them work. Then, if necessary, he would break them apart just to make them better than before. That was precisely what he did now.

"What were you thinking when you abandoned your duties as a wife?" he asked. "How did you come to that conclusion?"

"I wasn't thinking, Master!" Suzanna sobbed. "I wasn't thinking at all!"

"That's NOT what I asked you, Slut," he demanded. "You need to pay better attention."

She caught his meaning, but not in time to halt another slap from the flogger. "I thought that was infertile, Master. That I couldn't make a baby for you. I . . . I was thinking . . . that I couldn't tell you. That I couldn't let you find out."

"Why?!" he demanded with another spank.

"Be-Because this was a problem that was all about me. It wasn't your problem, and I had to fix it."

His voice lowered, but remained firm. "You belong to me. You always have belonged to me. You should not have made any decisions that were not brought to my attention first."

"I know that now, Master," Suzanna gasped, "please forgive me!"

"Not yet," he said, cupping his fingers underneath her pussy. God, why was he doing this to her? Couldn't he see how badly she needed his cock inside her?! "You lied to me repeatedly. You lied right to my face, and you went out of your way to deceive me. You have no idea how painful that felt."

She whimpered.

He slipped three fingers inside her moistened folds. "For months, over a year even, I thought you were giving this pussy . . . my pussy. . . to someone else. I thought another man was getting a taste of what belonged to me!"

He stuck four of his fingers into her pussy at once, making her body tighten.

"N-Never!" she gasped. "You don't know how much it pains me to hear you say that, Master. I never thought . . . aaaaaah . . . I never thought that you would ever consider that. I didn't think there was any way such a . . . a horrible thought would cross your mind! How could I ever let another man have this, Master? I wouldn't even be alive if it weren't for you. You earned my body the moment you saved my life, my Master. I would rather die than give someone else access to it."

At once, his hands slipped out, and he gently squeezed her ripe ass.

"Baby Farm," he said, using her Slut name.

"Yes, Master?"

"Your life is more precious to me than anything else in this world. I don't ever want to hear something like that again."

"I . . . apologize, Master," she said dejectedly. "I forgot that my belly will always be swollen with your child from here on. I would never surrender my life if it would harm the child of my Master."

"No," he said, trailing his fingers gently across her spine, causing her entire body to shiver. "That's not the reason."

Finally, he stepped in front of her, casting his soulful eyes into hers. "God dammit. You still don't understand. I love you, Suzanna. I always will love you, and I would gladly take another bullet for you if I had to."

She sobbed. "I . . . I don't deserve that, Master."

Suddenly, his brow creased, and he stepped behind her once more. Then, the flogger struck her rear again . . . harder than ever. The loud smack made everyone save for Barry cringe.

He then turned to Ariadne. "First Slut?"

She stepped forward. "Yes, Master."

"I want you to start applying the clamps."

Ariadne swallowed, but nodded. "As you command, Master."

Suzanna's heart sank again. How much more blatant did her desperation need to be? How long would she need to be punished before she finally felt him inside her again? Why didn't he see that?

"Suzanna . . . I don't know where that sort of attitude came from," Barry stated, with simmering anger just beneath the surface. "I don't know how you started to think that you're worth less to me than you are, but that needs to end. Immediately."

Suzanna winced as the first clamp closed upon her naked nipple. Ariadne's eyes met hers sympathetically, but the older brunette nevertheless obeyed the orders of her son/master and clamped a second to the other nipple. Pain burst through Suzanna's chest, making her heart jog several times faster.

Then, Ariadne brandished ten more of the silvery items, and her fingers moved slowly toward Suzanna's pussy.

"We're going to figure out what's happened to you . . . even if it takes forever."

******

TWO YEARS AGO

Suzanna turned the burner on the stove down when she heard the kitchen phone ringing and then carefully placed her knife on the countertop as she reached for it.

"Hello?"

"You have a lot to answer for, young lady!"

"Mama . . .?"

"That's right, hija! Your mother! Don't I deserve to be honored and respected?!"

Suzanna blinked. "What . . . what are you talking about?"

"You know damn well what I'm talking about, Suzie. Why the hell am I looking at a DVD box with your naked body plastered all over it?!"

Suzanna's cheeks drained away, and the air sucked from her lungs. On her list of moments she hoped would never come, this one easily ranked somewhere in the top ten.

"Um . . . I . . . I just . . ."

"Please don't try and tell me that I've just got the wrong person, Suzie. Even under all that phony makeup and airbrushing, I know my own daughter. And your name is right here on the box! 'Suzanna G'! G! That's your husband's initial, isn't it?"

Suzanna sank in her chair, still struggling to find words. "Mama, just . . . just calm down, alright? Hear me out."

"Hear out what, Suzanna? That my daughter's a whore? A total slut?!"

The saddest part about hearing those words from her own mother was that Suzanna and Barry used them quite often. They called each other names like 'whore', 'slut', 'tramp' because it perfectly fit everything they enjoyed about themselves. Everything in their lives—their professions, their personal lives, their academia—all revolved around sex, and most often not with each other. She was a porn actress and he was not only her boss, but a sexologist and a professional dominant. In six years, Barry had acquired a number of slaves whom he not only fucked with regularity, but often fathered children with.

The two of them fit the words 'whore', 'slut' and 'tramp' perfectly, and those terms had long ago lost any negative connotation in their marriage. Being called any of those three things in the Garrett house was meant as the greatest of compliments. In fact, Barry often insisted on capitalizing the word "Slut" when it was in referral to his women.

But hearing her mother spit the terms with such venom had made her forget that fact. Instead of embracing the words as she knew she should have, she felt compelled to strike back.

"What do you want me to say, Mama? What do you want from me? An apology?"

"I want you to come to your senses," her mother said. "Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to know the . . . the . . . filth you do for a living? Is this what we put you through school for?"

"You didn't put me through anything!" Suzanna's fist smashed into the counter. "I was class valedictorian! I earned my scholarships!"

"That's a fine way to honor the people who raised you to be the best you could be. We didn't teach you discipline and integrity so that you could . . . could go out and spread your legs in front of heathens and perverts!" Her mother's voice lowered, but lost none of its malice. "It was that boy, wasn't it? I knew he was trouble the minute you mentioned him."

The insult to her husband wore out Suzanna's patience. "Barry has nothing do with this!"

"Is this the type of movies he 'produces'? This smut?!"

"I told you, Barry has nothing to do with this!" She intentionally ignored her mother's question. "And bullshit 'you knew he was trouble'! You were all smiles, hugs and congrats when I told you he was a millionaire! And while we're on that subject . . . you were always keen on telling all us girls to 'marry UP'. So how is what I do . . . fucking for money . . . any different from marrying a man just because he's rich?!"

"It's plenty different, and you know it. And stop your filthy mouth. I can already see the kind of influence these people have had on you."

"God-dammit, Mama! When are you gonna see that this was what I wanted to do!? I didn't even know Barry when I started acting!"

No sound came from the other side after that admission. Suzanna held her breath, trying to steel herself for what she knew wouldn't be a positive reaction.

"So how long?"

"Maybe eight years. Seven at least."

"The entire time you were in college? From the minute you moved out, it sounds like."

"It was probably a few months afterward, but yes. That's mostly correct."

She heard her mother breathe a long, controlled sigh. "I won't tell your father anything. His health hasn't been great as of late, and I don't want anything upsetting him. But, I want you to make no mistake: Suzanna, you have become a total disappointment."

Suzanna gasped. "M-Mama, please, listen to me a second—"

"This man of yours . . . 'Barry', was it? I bet that you're not the only woman in his life, are you? Men like that . . . they aren't satisfied with just one pussy to fuck. They'll stick their cocks into anything they can find. The younger, the sexier, the better."

Suzanna gasped. Hearing it, her mother chuckled and said: "What? You thought that your dear mother didn't know how to use those words? Grow up, child.

"Right now, you feel confident and secure because he's rich and as long as you open your thighs for him, he's happy. But, eventually, he'll find something younger and sexier. Something that gives you things that he can't.

"Hell, this man you love . . . we've never even seen him. Not once. Tell me, Suzie . . . how often has he offered to meet his beloved wife's parents?"

Suzanna didn't reply.

"As I thought. Why get to know us when you're just a flash in the pan? And tell me, Suzanna: how many children do you two have?"

This time, she tried to respond. "I-I don't see what that has to do with—"

"You're young and you're pretty, Suzanna, but it's easy for men to get bored. You make him lots of money right now, and that would be harder to do if your pretty figure gets ruined with a baby. And since child support won't be an issue, he can just hop on the next big thing whenever he feels like it. And then, you'll find out just how foolish you've been. But by that time, it'll be too late.

"So eventually, when you figure it all out, you'll call me with tears in your eyes, telling me how right I was and how sorry you are. You'll want a shoulder to cry on and bosom to comfort you. But when you call me, I'll remind you of this very conversation. And then I'll laugh and the phone hang up. Or, if it's in person, I'll just close the door and walk away."

Suzanna's hands balled into quivering, jittery fists. "You're wrong, Mama. Barry would never do that to me. Ever. He's not like any other guy I've ever met! He loves me and—"

But then, her mother chuckled. "Enjoy your life, Suzanna."

The line clicked, and she was gone.

Suzanna spent the rest of the evening alternating between rage and sadness. That was the first time either of her parents had ever talked to her that way. Yes, she'd been punished or grounded before, but she'd never heard the spite she'd heard today. No matter how strict, how overbearing and protective her parents were, Suzanna had never failed to understand that they loved her.

But there was none of that today.

When her mother spoke to her, when she called her a 'disappointment' . . . it was like all of the affection for her daughter had decayed and withered. How could she have said those things? Why didn't she see that her daughter was happy? That she was in love with a wonderful man and that everything was better than she could have ever hoped they'd be?

Suzanna didn't tell her husband about the conversation with her mother—she honestly tried her best to block it out and hope that her parents would come around. She wouldn't give her mother the satisfaction of calling and trying to smooth things over. She'd prove to her that she was wrong about Barry and wait for her to be the one crawling back for forgiveness.

But the seed of doubt had been planted.

******

To be continued in next chapter...



Suzanna's Darlings Ch. 02



Welcome readers, to the ninth installment of my Ariadne/Barry/Suzanna series. In case you're new, this is the order of the stories:

Ariadne's Dreams (Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4)

Barry's Sluts (Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3)

Suzanna's Darlings (Chapter 1)

If you don't wish to read all of that first, then that's no problem. You can enjoy this story on its own as well.

Thank you for reading, and leave a comment!

******

TWO YEARS AGO

"Mrs. Garrett, I'm sorry . . . I've run every test that I know of, and I'm afraid I can't come to any conclusive answer."

That was the worst possible thing Suzanna could have heard at that moment. When you know there's something wrong . . . when everything points to the inescapable fact that you are not physically well . . . the single most horrific thing a doctor can tell you is that they have no idea what's wrong with you.

She didn't know whether to burst into tears or scream with rage. Neither would help at this point, but either was fully appropriate.

"Are you certain that the problem isn't with your husband?" the doctor asked.

Suzanna shot him the coldest glare that she had ever given anyone in all her life. "Yes."

"Um . . . may I ask how you're certain, ma'am?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Because my husband fucks at least twenty women throughout a given month, and most of them have been pregnant since 'the problem' has begun."

The dumbstruck doctor stared in silence for nearly a full minute. "Oh . . . ." He adjusted his thick-framed glasses as he tried to regain his composure. "U-Um . . . well, I can attempt to defer this to more specialized medical experts—"

"Please do. Whatever it takes to fix me, I want it to happen."

"M-Mrs. Garrett, I don't think you, um, need fix—"

"Doctor, for more than a full year, I have FAILED to give the one man that I love more than any other a child. In whatever world you've come from, that may not be a problem, but in mine, it is a BIG one. So don't you DARE try to tell me that I DON'T NEED FIXING!"

Again, the doctor fixed his glasses and turned away. "Um . . . o-okay, Mrs. Garrett. I'll . . . I'll go and schedule an appointment for you. And . . . um . . . m-my deepest apologies."

When the door closed, and she was alone, Suzanna's face dropped into her hands, and she finally let it all out. Her palms were stained with tears as she thought about the possibility that she could be sterile. She had never thought about it before in her entire life. For years, she'd had her entire life figured out. For years, she'd thought she finally had everything she wanted.

But that was before she'd met . . . and married . . . Barry Garrett.

Suzanna had once thought she would never give up being a porn actress. She loved being fucked, she loved attention, and she loved money . . . so it all seemed like a no-brainer. And since her husband was both the owner of the studio and fully approved of her occupation, it seemed like nothing would stand in the way of her dream.

But then, the porn freeze started. Stallion Productions was locked out of filming due to an STD outbreak, so that meant she was out of a job for a while. And in that time, she had nothing to do but sit around, relax, and tend to her empty, lonely home in Beverly Hills.

Oh sure, her husband lived there with her—sometimes—but the rest of the time, he was traveling all over, visiting his other lovers . . . his submissives . . . and the children they'd borne for him. She always watched his eyes light up when he talked about his babies . . . how much they looked like him . . . how beautiful their mothers looked when pregnant . . . how they grew a little each time he saw them . . .

. . . And how badly he couldn't wait to see what the child his wife would give him would look like.

At first, she was perfectly fine with all of it. She loved Barry, and she loved making him happy. She would do anything in the world for him . . . anything that he asked. She would give him her body, her soul, her life, if she even thought he needed any of them. So after the freeze started, and she'd gotten her first taste of what life would be like without filming, she'd made up her mind.

She was going to bear her husband a child. She was going to surprise him with the baby he wanted. She would secretly go off of her birth control, stop filming, and fuck her husband like her life depended on it. She was going to let him use her body . . . let him collar her . . . let him breed her . . . and please him like no other.

It was the perfect plan. Completely and totally foolproof . . . except for the part where she couldn't get pregnant.

So here she was, in this doctor's office, sobbing her eyes out . . . while her dear husband thought she was working. She had lied to him . . . tried to spare him from this. But, he would figure it out eventually. And then what would she tell him?  

Barry had dozens of submissives. Any one of them would give him a child whenever he demanded one. So what did he need her for?

It was like her own mother had hinted . . . if she and Barry couldn't have a baby . . . then what good was she to him?

******

TODAY

"Hey, you really got good at this game, honey."

"Hehe. Tony and I have been playing online with Uncle Rick a lot," Lyrica said as she pressed feverishly on her controller. Onscreen, there was gunfire and explosions, and two players on the opposite team were tossed like ragdolls. "Yes!" she cheered with a fistpump. "I just got a double kill!"

Barry chuckled as he watched his nine-year-old daughter, seated in his lap, play some videogames. In truth, videogames were something of a passion of his own, having grown up playing them all his life. Only a decade ago, when he was in high school, he'd play them all day long like his kids did today. While he still managed to get twenty or thirty minutes of play every now and again, he had far less time with a business to run, an estate to tend to, children to raise, and subsmissives to command.

Currently, Barry's days were wall-to-wall with busywork, but he wouldn't have it any other way. Life was incredibly good, and to keep it that way, he needed to work at it. The days like today, when he could just kick back and watch his oldest child enjoy herself, were few and far between. But, watching Lyrica and her brothers playing without a care in the world made it all worthwhile.

"Daddy, Daddy! I finally did it!" called the voice of Donald, his seven-year-old third-born.

"Huh? What?" Barry begrudgingly peeled his eyes from the game screen to glance at his son. "What'd you do, buddy?"

"Watch!" Donnie said as he struck a pose, lifting his teeny arms into the air.

At the same time, Lyrica called to him. "Daddy! Look, look, I'm winning!"

"Watch me Daddy," Donald called. "I'm gonna do it!"

Barry's eyes flicked back to the screen once and then back to Donald. His eyes were doing their damndest to try turning in opposite directions at the same time. "O-Okay, kids. Daddy's watching!"

"I'm winning, Daddy! Look, I've got the highest score!" Lyrica shouted.

"I see it, honey!"

"Daddy, look! Look! I can cartwheel! See? Daddy, see?!"

"Yeah, I see it, Donnie! Good job, son!"

"Daddy, look!"

"Daddy, look at me!"

Barry blinked once, and then it was over. Despite the fact that he'd never stopped looking, somehow, he missed both of his babies' attempts at showing off. He saw them, but he didn't see them. His eyes were fully open, but his brain couldn't process all that information at once.

"Daddy, did you see? I won! I won my first game!"

"Daddy, did you see the cartwheel I did? Didja?!"

He had to lie to both of them. "Sure did, baby. Sure did, champ." He kissed them both on their cheeks. Fortunately, this was the good side to dealing with kids still this young: it would be a while before it would hit them that he couldn't possibly have been looking in both directions at once. Right now, they believed their Daddy could do just about anything, so if he said that he had two extra pairs of eyes for looking in two different directions, or that lightning shot out of his toes, they'd believe him.

But, boy oh boy . . . was he ever gonna have a rude awakening when they started getting old enough and wise enough to figure it all out . . .

That was some time away, though, and his main concern was making their childhoods as happy and joyous as possible. He wanted his children to grow up to be strong, and that meant knowing that they had a Daddy who loved them all equally—all sixteen of them.

Well, twenty-four if you counted the babies currently growing in his submissives' bellies and twenty-five if you counted the one he was trying to implant in Trena. And of course, since Barry never fucked any of his submissives with contraceptives, it was pretty much a given that there were far more children in his future, and he was perfectly fine with that. The twenty-eight-year-old had more love in his heart than he knew what to do with, and even if he had a thousand children in his lifetime, that still wouldn't be enough to cover it all.

And of course, a thousand children would be pretty damn fun to make.

Barry felt the phone in his hip vibrate, and Lyrica squirmed and giggled as she felt it as she sat upon his lap. Pausing just a moment to lovingly tickle his daughter, Barry leaned to his side, fished his earpiece from his pocket and then pressed the answer button.

"'Ello," he said, gently pushing his daughter off so that he could stand.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Garrett," said Phyllis Ortega, Barry's newly-promoted CEO of Stallion Productions.

While Barry himself was still the sole owner and proprietor of Stallion, the business was currently creating several subsidiaries and child companies which would be run by executives appointed by Mr. Garrett himself. Barry would remain involved as the owner and president of a parent company called Garrett Living. This was yet another idea Barry had gotten from his former associate, Rod Styles. In fact, it was Styles's former assets that Barry wanted to acquire and absorb into the Garrett business, especially his chain of hotels, casinos and health clubs. All of them were worth billions, and Barry had borrowed vast amounts of money in order to make the purchases. With Rod's criminal empire broken up, Barry intended to step in and pick up the pieces for his former friend.

Of course, Rod had also tried to kill Barry and his family, so he had to admit that buying all of his businesses was some measure of revenge against the son of a bitch.

"Hey, Phyllis," Barry answered. "Since promoting you, what have I told you about the 'last name basis' thing?"

"Sorry, sir. Old habits die hard," Phyllis answered sweetly. She was only six years older than his own mother, but she treated him like the grandmother he'd never had. She also wasn't bad-looking for a 54-year-old lady. Barry wasn't all that discriminate when it came to women, but he knew beauty when he saw it and Phyllis was a gorgeous quinquagenarian. If she weren't happily married and, to use her own words, "too old for those sorts of games", he would have tried to collar her a long time ago.

But, he supposed this was for the best, too. Better to have someone completely unconnected to his 'harem' running his operations.

"What's the word on acquiring the Stylez Suites? Have we heard anything?"

"As a matter of fact, sir, we did. Our attorneys have said that the negotiations went swimmingly, and within the next several months, Garrett Living will own the hotel chain, casinos and health clubs."

"Good job, my love."

"Oh stop," she giggled.

"How much did it set us back?"

"About 3.8 billion."

"Wow. That . . . that's lower than I expected."

"Yeah, well, our people are good at haggling. And when your hotels are going up in smoke because the owner was a tremendous dickasaurus . . ."

Barry smirked. Phyllis had not been happy to hear about Rod's betrayal his attempted murder of Barry and his family. "Granny Phyllis" was protective of the Garretts, and she took any threat to the family itself or their company to be very, very personal. Attacking Barry was like attacking her own son. Attacking his children was like attacking her own grandchildren.

"Well, I see that I left the right person in charge, darling. I appreciate the news. Let me know if anything else comes up."

"Will do, Mr. Garrett."

He groaned.

"Yes, yes . . . I'll work on it, sir."

******

HOURS LATER

Tonight was a special night for Ariadne Garrett. It was the anniversary of the day she'd first met her favorite submissive, Emily. On this date, every year, Ariadne's own Master excused her from service so that she could spend the day with her lover, and the two of them could renew their service contract for another extended amount of time. At first, Emily had been contracted as a part-time submissive, just so that she could get a taste of the life. Since then, however, Emily had gone into full service, and her contracts tended to last for years, rather than months. Tonight just happened to be one of the nights where the two would have to discuss such a renewal.

Ariadne always preferred to do this after some great, mind-blowing sex, so she eagerly had one of the spare bedrooms in the Garrett Villa made up for the two of them, complete with candlelight, potpourri fragrances, and electronic jazz—the sole form of music that the two of them completely agreed upon.

When Emily arrived for their late-night rendezvous, she of course looked absolutely breathtaking. Rather than her usual messy, razor-cut hairstyle, Emily's bleached-blonde hair was layered and neat, with the bangs swept across her brow. The layers did wonders to play with her natural hair color, as several strands of her natural black hair were left unaltered in order to give it much greater depth.

Emily's makeup had been applied masterfully, making Ariadne proud that she'd taken the time and forced her slave to learn how to do so. Emily was ordinarily tomboyish and unladylike, but after becoming Ariadne's submissive . . . and then, her professional whore . . . she had learned to behave and look like a proper lady. It made Emily far more valuable and better able to draw in twice the number of johns, something that turned the young woman on immensely. Emily loved the kink of being a sex worker . . . of having her body and modesty reduced to mere merchandise. Ariadne thus worked as both Emily's Mistress and her Madame, and she was sure to keep her favorite whore safe, secure, and always well-fucked.

Tonight, Emily was dressed in a backless cocktail dress, with a neckline that plunged so deeply that her breasts were almost on full display, allowing the chains from her pierced nipples to be visible across her chest. The dress showed off much of Emily's legs . . . very long, sleek and soft now that Emily was at the proper weight that Ariadne desired. When she'd first been collared, Emily had been so thin . . . but with her Mistress constantly micromanaging her diet, that had changed.

Ariadne herself was merely dressed in a loose-fitting, almost transparent robe. She was quite horny and impatient to have her submissive in bed, so she wore something that wouldn't take more than a second to fling to the floor when it was time to fuck. Glancing at Emily now, Ariadne was almost eager to toss the damn thing aside immediately, but that was a job more suited for a slave to do.

"Come here, Pet," Ariadne purred, as she lay reclined on the bed. "I need you now."

Emily obeyed immediately and began walking toward the side of the bed, pulling the straps of her dress off of her shoulders as she moved, and intentionally wriggling her hips in the most hypnotic fashion possible. Her eyes remain locked on her Mistress's the whole time, reading her expressions to be sure that her actions pleased her. In moments, Emily's dress fell to the bedroom floor, allowing a full view of her beautiful pale and tattooed skin.

Emily knelt on the side of the bed, leaning toward Ariadne. Her beautiful, B-cup breasts swayed enticingly, their volume accentuated by the number of silver chains Ariadne'd had pierced into her slave's skin. Emily's fingers untied the knot of Ariadne's robe and slipped it open. The young woman could not help but lick her lips at the sight of her Mistress's exquisite Double-D tits, swollen bulbously with breast milk.

Although Ariadne hadn't had a child for over a year and a half, her body had been perpetually transformed in a state that was perfect for nursing. Her breasts were always swollen and full, and her hips and thighs were meaty and stout. It was a natural consequence of doing almost nothing but giving birth continuously for close to a decade, allowing her own Master to use her body exclusively to breed his children.

Ariadne was often insecure about the transformations to her body, but both her Master and Emily loved them. She had to admit, it put a smile on her face to see how voluminous her 48-year-old breasts were after being bred by her own son for years and years. They were certainly far more tender and sensitive than before, and Emily immediately took full advantage by placing her petite hands upon her Mistress's breasts and massaging them.

"How can I please you tonight, Mistress?" Emily asked her lover.

"It's our special night, Pet," Ariadne said. "I only want you."

Emily smiled. "As you command, Mistress." As much as she loved playing games with the Mistress, as much as she loved their play with the machines . . . the toys . . . playing the role of a naughty schoolgirl to the Mistress's strict teacher . . . or being the Mistress's discipline-starved initiate to their imaginary nunnery . . . she also loved the times like these. The times when they were just Emily Swanbeck and Ariadne Garrett . . . two women in love with each others' bodies.

Emily leaned closer and her hands reached down with a feathery touch to her Mistress's thighs. Ariadne shivered, and instinctively spread her legs wider to provide her lover with greater access. Emily picked up on that and immediately lowered her lips to her Mistress's wet, pink pussy lips, locking her lips on her Mistress's clit and suckling upon it gently.

Ariadne gasped and had to stop herself from almost crying out. It'd been so long since she and Emily had done anything vanilla, she'd almost forgotten how good her slave was at this . . . how much better she was getting all the time. Ariadne leaned her head back on her soft feather pillow and allowed her servant to please her. Her hands fell to the side as she let herself be properly serviced.

After flicking her tongue over his Mistress's clit, and then gently kissing her thighs, Emily slipped one of her slender fingers into her lover's pussy and began to lightly stroke, even as her thumb glided over the sensitive fold of her Mistress's sex. Emily glanced up and watched Ariadne writhe with pleasure, her own breathing and palpations quickening as she did what her Mistress wanted.




Suzanna's Darlings Ch. 02



Emily worked at her Mistress's pussy for over forty minutes, altering between using her fingers, her lips, her tongue, and even the tip of her nose to please her. She lapped as much of her Mistress's juices as she could, having become long accustomed to and eager for her taste. It wasn't until Ariadne had cum at least five times that the younger woman paused for a moment to ask her Mistress:

"Would you like to taste my pussy now, Mistress?"

"Oh . . . God yes . . ." Ariadne breathed. "I want it now, Pet."

Emily swung her backside around until it faced Ariadne, and she mounted her Mistress in the 69 position. Ariadne's hands welcomed and gripped her lover's rear eagerly, and she pinched Emily's supple cheeks. In the meantime, she eagerly began lapping at Emily's pussy, causing the submissive to gasp out and nearly sob with joy.

Emily composed herself long enough to continue licking and suckling at her Mistress's pussy, and she even angled herself to be able to stick a single finger into Ariadne's tight ass. Ariadne's anus was almost virgin-tight, because her Master rarely fucked her there . . . much preferring her pussy in order to maximize the chances of impregnation . . . and Emily always exploited this as much as she could.

The two soft, feminine bodies writhed together, their supple pink flesh rubbing against one-another on the bedsheets. Both women came multiple times, soaking each-others' faces with their mutual pussy juices.

Finally, Ariadne lifted her mouth from Emily's pussy and breathed, "On your back, pet. I want to fuck you now."

Emily obediently rolled herself over and positioned herself on her back, with her legs eagerly spread in readiness. She threw her arms over her head and bit her lip in silent expectation for her Mistress. Ariadne's voluptuous body quickly moved atop Emily's . . . docking their bodies together perfectly. With their pussies, their tits, and their mouths connected to each other, Ariadne began to grind each of these things together, tribbing her pussy vigorously against Emily's while their nipples rubbed against each-other, and their tongues happily explored.

Emily's pierced nipples greatly intensified the pleasure she and Ariadne got, with Ariadne's nipples actually coaxing out small amounts of breast milk during the copious pounding she gave her submissive's pussy. The two women squealed and gasped into each others' mouths for what seemed like an eternity, topping the entire night off by mutually masturbating and playing with the others' pussy until they came together.

At last, the two of them fell exhausted.

******

MEANWHILE, MILES AWAY, IN MANHATTAN, NEW YORK

"I'm used to certain . . . protocol being a factor when I do business. You understand, yes? We'll need to get right down to that protocol before this meeting can begin. I hope you can understand that this is not meant to challenge or question your reputation. Think of it not as an affront on your trustworthiness, but as an old man's quirky little habits.

"Is this acceptable to you, Mr. Garrett?"

Barry smiled at the wrinkled old man, keeping his eyes locked on him and not on the three massive bodyguards that looked ready to break him like a twig. Unshakably confidant, Barry merely nodded his head in affirmation.

"Not a problem, Mister Castiglione."

Sylvester Castiglione, known as better known as 'Sly Cat' in the underworld, took a triumphant puff on his cigar as he watched Barry stand. One of his three goons walked over to the younger man and began to pat him down. After a moment, he reached underneath Barry's jacket and brandished a 45-calibur handgun.

"Careful with that," Barry told him. "It's always loaded."

The goon took the weapon and stepped away from Barry, nodding to his boss to indicate that his guest was now clean. Being separated from his beloved weapon made Barry a bit antsy, but that needed to be held in check for now. At times like this, a cool composure and sharp mind were safer companions than even a fully-loaded semi-automatic pistol.

"Thank you, Mr. Garrett. Now, please have a seat."

Barry did as Sly Cat asked, folding his legs and locking his hands together as the meeting continued.

"My time and my money are like my children, Mr. Garrett," he started. "If you dare harm either one of them, life can become . . . a bit more difficult, if you understand my meaning."

Barry smiled. "Oh, I understand just fine. I understand because I'm able to put myself in your shoes. If someone were to mess with my family, or my business, I have a habit of making their lives miserable a well."

Castiglione understood Barry's retort, and exhaled a long chain of cigar smoke before responding. "Well, the difference between you and I, Mr. Garrett, is that I've been in this game for more than 40 years. I've seen the rise and fall of families and dynasties. I've seen sharp, confident young men like you leave the game broken, their bodies and nerves shattered like little girls.

"I've had 40 years to build my reputation, Mr. Garrett, so there is much reason to fear me. But, you? I don't know you. So it's hard for me to find a reason to care."

Barry chuckled and wiped a speck of lint off of his sleek, pressed slacks. "That's not a problem, Mr. Castiglione. I don't have your experience, but I've been in this game far longer than most people think. I was a Syndicate man for years."

That part was a carefully-veiled half-truth. While it was certainly true that Barry had been under the employ of the Syndicate for several years before its collapse, most of that time, he hadn't even had a clue that he was working for them. He'd had no idea that his friend and financial backer Rod Styles was actually the boss behind it all, and that Rod had been carefully drawing the Garrett family into his operations for years.

Castiglione also wouldn't know that it was Barry's efforts that had eventually exposed Rod for what he was, and finally allowed the Syndicate to topple once and for all.

That was because, of course, the old man would have killed him in an instant if he had known any of these things.

Again, the old mobster was reserved, unmoving at Barry's response. He was an older gentleman, with a full head of healthy grey hair. He was impeccably fit for a man his age, and despite his years, still resistant to wrinkles and other signs of physical decline. He was clean-shaven, with hawkish eyes and a steady face that made him difficult to read.

The trick was that Barry was the same, except much younger. Calm, poised, focused and sharp. The only differences were that you could subtract 30 years from Barry's age and add brown to his hair. He lacked Castiglione's years and reputation, but he made up for it with relentless ambition and unstoppable initiative.

Finally, Castiglione tapped his cigar into the ashtray. "So what do you want?"

"Not much. I want you to keep your operations in 29th Avenue and Bloomington Park to a minimum. I want my girls kept safe. In addition, I want the only women walking the street to be part of my family, and we reserve the right to reject the ones we don't like. Furthermore, our places are neutral ground, where absolutely no violence will be tolerated."

Castiglione's head tilted. "And why would we do this?"

"Because you want your people to hustle their product smoothly and I want my girls doing their work without worrying about being harassed or found in a ditch full of cum, bullets and heroin. I think your guys would also appreciate the discounted companionship. None of my people are in competition with yours. I don't deal with any product that doesn't walk on two legs and nag about toilet seats.

"In short, you can scratch my back and I'll scratch yours."

Castiglione nodded at Barry's proposal. It was undoubtedly well thought-out and reasonable. Still, the old man seemed hesitant.

"How do we know that you're trustworthy . . . dependable? You say you've been doing this for some time, but nobody's heard of you. So how can we believe you? Who do you have to vouch for you?"

Barry smiled. "Saber Kilroy."

That name hushed every person in the room. The guards standing at the sides glanced at one-another, and Castiglione quickly leaned back in his chair, his cigar twitching between his fingers.

"Saber Kilroy, huh? You got a lot of balls dropping that name, boy."

Saber Kilroy was the most infamous name in the underworld, first starting to make waves at some point in the eighties. He was known to have a hand in everything: gambling, running numbers, prostitution, drug-running, people trafficking, contract killings . . . you name it, he's getting a piece of it.

Kilroy's people were everywhere; all of them were hand-picked and very good at their jobs. Kilroy was well-known for richly rewarding those that were loyal and for brutally punishing those who crossed him. Even using his name as clout in the underworld carried heavy weight but also significant risk; anyone who name-dropped him was essentially wagering their own life. Kilroy's people were someone you could count on to come through in a pinch—because their entire families tended to disappear if they didn't.

For Barry to even mention that name . . . he was either the ballsiest or the dumbest sonuvabitch to ever live.

"I know some people that run with Kilroy. You better think twice if you're gonna use that name without thinking."

"I appreciate the warning, but it's not necessary," Barry answered. "Talk to whomever you like. Talk to Kilroy himself if you want. My credentials are there."

Castiglione nodded again, but this time in acquiescence. He knew that if Barry were telling the truth about this, it would be utterly stupid to turn down his offer.

"Give me a few days to think it over," he told the young man. "If your references check out, you'll be hearing from my people."

Castiglione nodded to the guard with Barry's weapon, who then walked to the guest and stood in wait. Barry rose from his chair and nodded to the old gentleman, calmly making his exit as the bodyguard let him away.

"Thank you, Mr. Castiglione. We'll be in—"

About the same time that Barry was leaving, he heard the unmistakable sound of thin heels tapping on the floor. Turning to greet the noise, he found an extremely tall, voluptuous figure wrapped in a impeccable beige suit and skirt greeting him. Glancing up even higher, he found that the body belonged to a woman with a very unique shade of reddish-brown hair.

She walked right past him as if he were beneath her concern, her eyes and nearly half of her face covered by thick, dark sunglasses that were built specifically for hiding your expressions and identity. Barry started to turn and get a glance at the rear view, but had to stop himself when the guard poked him and insisted that he follow.

As he disappeared down the hall, he heard the woman speak.

"Daddy, we need to speak. How many times have I told you that we need to . . ."

******

"So the meeting with Castiglione went well?" Imani asked Barry, meeting him at his private Staten Island residence a few hours afterward.

"He didn't shoot me," Barry said with a confident grin, smiling at Trena as the nude slave poured his drink into a waiting glass. When Imani frowned at his morbid humor, he added, "You don't need to worry. He'll agree to my terms."

She sighed as she sat in the chair across from his sofa and crossed her thick, brown legs. "If you think anything is wrong, Barry . . . get out, okay? If you sense any danger, then . . ."

Barry chuckled as he sipped a bit of iced scotch. "Imani, if I were afraid of danger, the Bureau wouldn't have recruited me. Relax. You know that I won't do anything to put myself or any of my family in danger."

She nodded, but still seemed conflicted. On the one side, her role as a federal agent was telling her that what they were doing was necessary. On the other, her protectiveness for her younger brother made her fear for his safety.

And on the other, other side, her love for her Master made her absolutely wet at his bravery and confidence.

In the end, the first and the third sides won out and she simply chose to let the matter drop. "I'll leave it to you, then, Barry. You've come this far without me."

Barry merely kept his eyes on her as he finished his drink. Then, placing it on the table beside him, he said, "So is that it? Are we done?"

She gave a sly smile at his eagerness. She then reached into her pocket, brandished a thick black collar, and snapped it around her neck.

"Yes, Master."

"Then lose the clothes. Now."

She obeyed and stood in place, shedding her professional suit and skirt in her Master's sight. At the same time, he began taking his own clothes off as well, obviously too impatient to order her to do it. He glanced at Trena, standing in wait at his side, watching him eagerly as he slowly revealed more and more of his chiseled, manly body.

"Fetch it," he told her.

"Yes, Master," Trena replied as she turned to leave the room.

One minute later, both Barry and Imani were standing in the living room nude, with Trena's gigantic, F-sized breasts standing with an impossible perkiness, her thick nipples hard as hard and eager as Barry's cock.

Trena merely stood and waited as Barry approached her. Grabbing a handful of her luscious black hair, he pushed his mocha-colored sister to her knees and pressed his cock against her cheek.

"Open," he commanded her.

With some hesitance, Imani slowly opened her mouth. Barry commanded her "Wider!" and she opened it to its full size. He then positioned his cock directly between her pouty Nubian lips and thrusted it in her mouth as hard as he could muster. Imani gagged and coughed as she took Barry's cock, but he didn't withdraw. He let her fingernails scratch his thighs—he was tough, he could take it—and he let the tears well up in her eyes, knowing she was just as tough.

Once she'd settled down, Barry let her lips and tongue do their work on his cock. In the meantime, Trena returned with a large black harness in her arms and presented it to her Master.

"Stand up, Titty Toy," Barry said, referring to Imani by her slut name. "Cock Guzzler, take her place."

Trena nodded and said, "Yes, Master" as she dropped to her knees where Imani had once been. She eagerly took Barry's cock into her mouth and started to do the magic that Trena did best. In the meantime, Barry focused his attention elsewhere, not particularly mindful of his Slut as she worked.

Barry pointed toward a desk beside him. "Bend over that."

Again, Imani hesitated. Instantly, Barry's hand came up to slap her cheek with a thunderous bang. "I will NOT tell you again, Titty Toy."

Imani's eyes were filled with pure animal desire and sexual hunger when she turned to look at her Master again. Her breath had quickened, and her breasts heaved with every breath. She had been put in her place . . . conquered by pain. Without any further resistance, she bent herself over the desk until her juicy, round ass was pointed at the Master.

Barry couldn't help himself. He ran a hand over Imani's gorgeous black rear and admired how it curved, molded, and softened to his touch. In the meantime, he slipped the harness on Imani, locking her hands and arms behind her back, providing no resistance or defense against her Master's advances.

To make sure she knew who was in charge, he reached at the desk and picked up a massive, hardcover book. He brought down hard onto his submissive's ass—first on the left cheek, and then on the right, until the word "Thesaurus" was practically printed on the poor woman's ass. Imani gasped and cried with each strike, and before long, Barry knew she was ready.

"Bring that ass back up, bitch," he told her. "And keep it there."

"Y-Yes, sir," a tenderized Imani gasped submissively. She rose her ass exactly where he wanted it, even as the room temperature air made it sting.

Barry pushed Trena away and moved behind Imani. Trena still made herself useful by falling below her Master's legs and bringing her lips and tongue to his balls. Her turn would be coming soon enough, but until then, it was her duty to maximize her Master's pleasure to the best of her ability.

Barry slipped his long, hard cock into his sister's pussy and began to fuck her with abandon, not caring how sore he'd made her ass only minutes before. Barry wanted it to hurt. He wanted to remind her who was in charge . . . who her Master was.

To that effect, he quickly spit on the desk beside where Imani's crying, moaning face lay and told her, "Lick it up."

Imani did as he ordered, licking her Master's saliva from the table as if she were starving for it. He rewarded her by fucking her harder and pulling her hair as he did so.

"So . . ." he began ". . . did you do what I told you?"

"A-About the pill, Master?" she gasped.

"Yes," he said annoyedly, "about the damn pill."

"Yes . . . ugh . . . Yes Master," Imani grunted. "I . . . I tossed them out. All of birth control. All of it!"

Barry smiled. "That's my slut. Then I'll reward you. I'm gonna fill your pussy tonight."

Imani moaned and licked her lips. "B-But Master . . .my . . . my job! How . . . oh God . . . how will I explain it to my superiors if I wind up . . . p-pregnant?"

Barry slapped her ass hard. "That's not for you to think about, my Titty Toy. That's my concern. Your job is to obey me and please me, any way I see fit. Understand?"

Imani screamed out as she came. "Yes, Master! God, yes! Anything you want! I'm yours! I'm your black slut! Do whatever to my body that you want!"

Barry was pleased by his Slut's words. So much so that he growled with fervor and emptied his balls into her waiting womb.

As Imani lay bent over the desk, trying to recuperate, Barry stepped back and glanced down at an eager, waiting Trena.

"Get it hard again. Then it'll be your turn."

"Oh yes, absolutely, Master," Trena gasped. "Please breed me!"

Barry fulfilled the Chinese woman's timid request. He took her on the sofa, almost folding her lithe body in half as he fucked her, and came hard into her waiting pussy.

Barry continued to fuck both women until just before dawn. For Imani, it was her very first night of full service for her Master . . . her first time as a true Slut. For Trena, she would forever remember this night as the one she conceived her very first child for her Master.

******

It was still dark outside when Emily stirred. She woke next to the warmth of her Mistress's body with the feeling of being loved and sexually satisfied. She tried to adjust herself to be slightly more comfortable, but unintentionally roused Ariadne from her sleep as well.

"Oh! Sorry, Mistress! I didn't mean to wake you!"

"That's okay, Pet," Ariadne purred, petting her slave's thigh. "Mmmmm. While we're up, I think we need to talk about renewing your contract."

Emily reddened. "Um . . . about that, Mistress . . . I . . . I don't want to renew the same contract."

Ariadne tilted her head. "Oh? Did you have a different one in mind?" For a moment, Emily saw her eyes flash with panic, hoping that Emily didn't want to end her service entirely.

"Of course I do, Mistress," she assured her. "But . . . I'm not sure it's one you're . . . well . . . I don't know how you'll feel about—"

Ariadne leaned forward and kissed Emily softly on the lips. "Pet, you know that I adore and care for you more than anyone aside from my Master. I will listen to any new terms that you want to negotiate."

Emily swallowed and took a deep breath. "Very well." She stood from the bed and opened a drawer in the vanity nearby. She turned to face Ariadne again, holding her hands behind her back.




Suzanna's Darlings Ch. 02



Ariadne's heart was fluttering, taken out of her element by her submissive's strange behavior.

"Emily? What's behind your back . . .?"

Emily pretended to not hear the question. She descended on to her knee beside the bed.

"Emily? What are you doing? Emily . . . answer me! Answer me right this minute! What is this?!"

Emily licked her lips and reached for Ariadne's hand. She looked up and glanced into her Mistress's deep, brown eyes.

"Mistress, I -- I don't want to stop serving you. Ever. I want to be yours forever."

Ariadne's heart was pacing itself fiercely now. Her hands were growing cold.

"I want to be completely your slut, like you are to Barry. I trust you . . . I love you more than anyone else that I know, Mistress. Being under your control has been the best time of my life, and the things we've done for . . . and to . . . each other have filled me with greater pleasure than I even knew existed. But, the longer we've been together, the more my feelings have grown.

"I love you, Mistress. It's taken me a long time to admit it, but I'm completely in love with you. It's weird because I never, ever, thought I could feel that way about a woman, but I don't know what else to call it. Seeing you makes me immediately wet, hearing your voice culls me into complete submission, and seeing you smile or subdued in pleasure gives me ecstasy out of this world. And I don't want that to change—ever. I want to be yours forever, my Mistress. I want to be yours for you to do with what pleases you."

Emily brought forth a small black box from behind her back and opened it.

"Ariadne Garrett . . . Mistress Aria . . . will you marry me?"

Ariadne was shivering, her entire body frozen, and her eyes wide. She didn't breathe. She didn't look anywhere else. Her eyes just sat transfixed on the giant diamond set inside that box. It was tinted pink—Ariadne's favorite color—and had to be roughly six carats or so. The band was pure gold, and inscribed with text that was too fine to read where she was.

Emily kept her eyes staring into her Mistress's, not wavering, not showing any signs of doubt. She was scared out of her mind . . . she had been afraid all night, leading to this moment . . .but she wouldn't back down now. This was what she wanted. This was her dream.

She merely sat down and waited for her Mistress's response.

But when it came, it wasn't what she expected.

"Get . . . get out," Ariadne hissed meekly.

Emily paused, questioning if she had heard that right. "P-Pardon, Mistress?"

"You heard me! I said get out! Get out right now!"

Emily recoiled in shock, going into wide-eyed terror at the sudden transformation in Ariadne's personality. What had she done wrong? What was happening?

Why was the Mistress so angry?!

"Get the fuck out of this room right now, Emily! Get out of my sight!"

Ariadne reached for a pillow and threw it. Emily stood and let it bounce against her chest and her eyes me the floor.

"As . . . as you wish . . . Mistress . . ."

Leaving the ring on the floor where it was, Emily quickly, somberly, walked out of the bedroom and closed the door behind her.

To Be Continued



Suzanna's Darlings Ch. 03



Hello, readers! This is the final chapter of Suzanna's Darlings, but not the last story in this saga. After this chapter, a new series will begin that contains the same characters and themes. This story takes place after the previous chapter, but bounces to events that happened around the same time as chapter 03 of Barry's Sluts. I had to write this chapter TWICE after the death of my previous computer, but I think it turned out better than I originally intended. I hope you all enjoy!

New readers should know that this is the latest chapter in my longest-running series. The chapters can be read in this order:

Ariadne's Dreams (Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4)

Barry's Sluts (Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3)

Suzanna's Darlings (Chapter 1, Chapter 2)

If you don't wish to read all of that first, then that's no problem. You can enjoy this story on its own as well.

Thank you for reading, and leave a comment!

******

******

NOW

It was a late weekend morning, and Ariadne was nowhere to be found in the kitchen. That usually meant that something was wrong.

Suzanna knew for a fact that Ariadne was anal about cooking. Even though Barry had collared a number of slaves, and it was their job to prepare the meals around the Ranch, Ariadne was always someplace nearby, either coaching the other girls or taking over the duties herself. Ariadne was Barry's mother, she loved to cook, and Barry adored her cooking.

But today, no one had seen her. It was already 11:40, and Ariadne had never shown up in the kitchen. So, Suzanna marched down the hall to investigate. It was probably nothing—Ariadne had likely overslept or something, but it didn't hurt to check. With Barry gone, Suzanna was in charge here, and there was no way in hell she was going to risk that anything had gone wrong her first day in command.

As she walked through the halls, the other submissives gave her a salutatory "Good morning, Alpha Slut" and stepped respectfully out of her path. It was an empowering feeling . . . being Queen-Among-Slaves . . . and it needed little adjustment. She was born to play this role, and it fit her like a glove.

Suzanna's see-through gown showed off the outline of her body as well as her pregnant belly quite well, and some of the Sluts eyed her with pangs of jealousy. The others who were pregnant themselves eyed her with a knowing smirk. The women who weren't carrying a child just yet only needed to be patient. There was no way the Master would let them remain that way for long.

As soon as Suzanna reached the hall where Ariadne's special chambers were located, she was glad she'd made the decision to check in. There was Emily, Ariadne's own favorite slave, laying on the floor right outside of the door, huddled into a ball like a loyal pup.

"Emily? What the hell are you doing out here?" Suzanna asked.

Emily opened her eyes and glanced up. Her makeup had run terribly, and her face was a mess. It was obvious that she'd spent the entire night crying.

"I . . . I'm sorry, Alpha Slut," Emily stammered as she scrambled to her feet. "I'll . . . I'll just step out of your—"

"You aren't answering my question," Suzanna demanded. "What are you doing out here?"

Emily glanced at the floor. "M-My Mistress t-threw me out last night. I . . . I fear that I displeased her."

Suzanna nodded, sympathetic. "What did you do?"

"I . . . I don't know!" Emily cried, her voice cracking and the tears flowing again. "Last night . . . it was so magical for us. I made love to the Mistress all night, and we collapsed in bed together. But then . . . but then . . ."

Emily sobbed and lost herself to sorrow. Suzanna took the naked girl into her arms and held her.

"There there, sweetie. You can't go to pieces like this. It's unsightly and wholly inappropriate for a slave. You need to get yourself cleaned up, eat something, and keep yourself ready in case your Mistress needs you to serve."

Emily nodded. "Yes . . . you-you're right."

"Now go on. I'll talk to your Mistress for you and try to see what the problem is. I'll send someone to collect you if she tells me she has need of you."

"T-Thank you, Alpha Slut," Emily said with a very weak smile. She walked away, heading to a bathroom to do as asked, and in the meantime, Suzanna took a deep breath and headed into the room.

Inside, it was a complete mess. The bed was unmade, things were strewn about the floor, and the entire room still had the lingering aroma of sex hours after anything could have occurred. Suzanna didn't see Ariadne anywhere, and was starting to worry when she heard the shower running in the bathroom.

Entering the steam-filled bath, Suzanna found Ariadne sitting on a stool under the water, her head held low, and her shoulders hunched dejectedly.

There was no doubt that something was very, very wrong.

Ariadne was so out of it that she didn't notice Suzanna even entering the shower with her. It wasn't until Suzanna had soaped up a sponge and applied the lather to her mother's back that Ariadne suddenly jumped.

"O-Oh! Teacher! I didn't notice you were there!"

Suzanna chuckled. "Obviously. But keep still and let me do all of the work. I like putting soap on that sexy body of yours, Aria."

Aria nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Suzanna spread the soapy water across her mother's gorgeous, middle-aged body, taking a moment to admire her husband's handiwork. You see, Ariadne had once been a woman of an average build when she in her late thirties, but ever since Barry had collared her and transformed his mother into a Slut, he'd kept her pregnant time and time again. Each pregnancy changed Ariadne's body ever so slightly—her hips became wider, her thighs became meatier, her ass had become plumper, and her breasts now carried milk at all times . . . even when she hadn't given birth for years. The human body was an amazing thing, and Suzanna's had adopted to fit her needs—or rather, her son's needs. She was a machine designed solely for baby-making.

Suzanna licked her lips. One day, the same fate would hopefully befall herself.

But, Ariadne's biological clock had finally caught up with her some time ago, and she hadn't been pregnant for a long while. She was no longer Barry's "Breeding Slut"—the one woman who was to remain pregnant at any and all times. From now on, that would be the job of Suzanna herself.

Ariadne had taken the changes pretty badly at first. She loved being pregnant, and the realization that her own body was denying her that thrill had caused some depression in the past. However, Suzanna had thought Ariadne might have moved on since then.

"So, I saw Emily outside," she began. "She was sleeping right outside your door."

Ariadne perked up at that news. "On the floor?!"

"Yep."

Ariadne whimpered, and her gaze lowered again. "She . . . she didn't need to. She could have just gone back to her room and slept there. Why would she do something like that?"

"Aria, you underestimate how much that girl loves you. The way you've culled her is truly impressive. Emily doesn't do a thing unless it's for your sake. Her every waking, breathing thought is only how to please you."

"But, we all do that," Ariadne protested. "For Barry."

"True, but Barry encourages us to be strong and willful as well. We can do anything we want, so long as it is within the Master's rules. But, Emily . . . if you told that girl to stop breathing, I'm sure she'd do it without hesitation."

Ariadne sighed. "Oh, God . . . what have I done?!"

"I don't know," Suzanna said. "Why don't you tell me what happened?"

"Well," Ariadne began, "Last night . . . Emily asked me to marry her."

Suzanna's eyes widened. "That's . . . that's great news! See?! I told you that she really loves you!"

Ariadne shook her head. "But . . . but . . .!" She turned, meeting Suzanna's eyes. "Teacher . . . can I tell you something? Something I've never even said to Barry before?"

Suzanna nodded. "Of course, honey."

"Teacher . . . I have truly loved every moment of these last eight or nine years. I've discovered more happiness . . . more pleasure and love . . . than I ever thought would be possible. Ever since the Master collared me, we've all become rich beyond our wildest dreams, and as time passes, we only become more successful. Only a decade ago, I was just a middle-class widow . . . but here I am with my own team of submissives and a thriving online bordello."

Suzanna smiled and nodded. "You've accomplished a lot, dear. We all have."

Ariadne's fingers twiddled together as her gaze fell. "And yet . . . none of it would have been possible . . . if Stewart were alive."

Suzanna's eyes widened. "Aaaaah. I think I see the problem now."

"Suzanna, I wouldn't give up these last few years of my life for anything in the world. I could never go back to the way things were . . . but deep inside, I've always known that the only reason any of it came to be is because my husband passed away over twenty years ago.

"I've justified it by always saying that what I'm doing is giving Stewart more grandchildren. I'm spreading my darling's genes by letting our son fuck and impregnate me. Stewart still lives on, in each of my grandbabies. Don't misinterpret me—I'm not saying that I don't love Barry as both a son and a lover, but Stewart was always my husband while Barry was always my master."

"I understand," Suzanna agreed.

"But . . . but . . . I can't hide behind that excuse anymore. I have to admit that as crazy as Emily is about me, I'm equally so for her. Maybe even more. I truly do love Emily, and I want us to be together forever . . .

"But where does that leave my darling Stewart?! If he were alive, I wouldn't be as happy as I am now, so I've betrayed him with my success. I let our son fuck me and use my body whenever he pleases, so I've also betrayed Stewart with my body. And now, I'm in love with another, and she wants me to marry her, so I've betrayed him with my heart! I've betrayed Stewart thrice over!"

Suzanna frowned, but nodded. She didn't speak—she just let Ariadne get it all out.

"I always thought Stewart was my soul mate . . . my one and only. I always thought that we'd meet each other again in heaven someday, and he'd like the woman I've become. It was a selfish fantasy, but it's what I held to all this time. But now . . . but now . . ."

Taking the younger woman into her arms and sobbing into her chest, Ariadne cried: "Please, Teacher . . . please take my mind off of this, just for a while. Please, help me forget."

Suzanna smiled and cupped her fingers under Ariadne's chin. "Of course, darling. For a while at least, I'll make all of your troubles melt away . . . ."

******

MONTHS AGO

It was quiet in the Lecture Room when Barry entered. Each of his Sluts instantly ceased everything that they were doing and stood at attention, straightening their backs, and seeing to it that their breasts stood upright and attentive as the Master desired. This was a formal occasion, so they all wore the formal uniform, a gray one-piece leotard which covered every of the body aside from the bare tits and their pierced nipples. Sluts that were pregnant wore only a slight variation—a stomachless version of the leotard in which the hole perfectly framed their swollen bellies, granting a very lewd and intimate view of the section where the master's child was nursing inside them.

"As most of you are well aware," the Master began, "my dear Suzanna here has confessed an interest in becoming collared. She wishes to join each of you as my true Slut, and not merely my wife. She wants me to own and control her in any way that I see fit—to seek pleasure from her if that is my desire—or to punish her if she fails to meet my expectations. I am very happy to hear that this is what my darling wife wants, but there is a matter that disturbs me.

"She has told me that, despite her efforts for the past year and some change, she has been unable to become pregnant. Her desire was for me to collar her after she became impregnated enough to begin showing, and I am going to honor that wish. Thus, until we have solved this problem, I won't be putting a collar around Suzanna's neck. However, it will not suit me to simply leave the matter at that. No . . . I find the very idea that her womb refuses to be conquered by my seed to be an affront to my manhood. My wife has eggs in her with my name in them, and I refused to be denied."

Suzanna stood by her husband's side, completely nude . . . her body on complete display for everyone in attendance. They could see every part of her turning several shades red, her embarrassment over her husband's gushing blatant. But she also running high on emotion, a feeling of bliss that she'd never known existed.

"So, to that end, I am here to tell each of you that Suzanna and I will be going on a retreat, effective the moment I am done with this announcement. We will be leaving the villa and the Ranch altogether, and remain in a private location alone, where I will fuck her day and night until I show her blasted womb who owns it. This further means that I will be saving every drop of cum my balls produce for her. I don't care if that takes a few days or if it takes months. Until Suzanna is pregnant, her pussy will be the only one receiving my cock and the only one I fill with my cum.

"Some of you may find this unfair. Some of you may wonder why I would go to such lengths for Suzanna, and no one else. Well, I'll tell you the answer you suspect, but probably do not wish to hear: she is my favorite. Suzanna is the reason I am here today, and she is the reason that all of you are here. What she did for me, long before I became your Master, will never change. As much as I love and adore each and every one of you, I love Suzanna more than each of you combined. If that is a truth too difficult for you to bear, then perhaps you are not cut out for my service."

Suzanna's eyes nearly glazed over with passion. To have this man . . . this wonderful , sexy man . . . declare his intentions for her to an entire room of slaves . . . it was the greatest feeling in the world!

"During the time we are away, absolutely none of my rules will have changed. You will continue your daily duties and activities unabated. My mother Ariadne will be in charge and will address any day-to-day concerns. I will not be returning here aside from company concerns or to be a father to my children. I will not return for pleasure or idle recreation until my business with Suzanna and her womb is settled. If any of you become tired of waiting for it to happen, then you are free to leave at any time. I will not attempt to appease you. You are my slaves, so you are here to serve my needs. I am not here to serve yours.

"Now. Does everyone understand how things will be for the immediate future?"

"Yes, Master!"

"Does anyone object to these conditions?"

"No, Master!"

"Good Sluts. I am a fair Master, and I will make sure that each of you is rewarded after I return. I will guarantee at least one day in which my cock will be yours and yours alone. I demand a lot from you, but I will give a lot as well. Do you understand?"

"Yes,Master!"

"Good. Then we are done here."

Barry dismissed the Sluts, but many of them didn't leave right away. Many of them came bearing gifts and advice for Suzanna, telling her what time of the day was best to be fucked, what foods made her most fertile, which positions maximized fertilization, et cetera. Barry was pleasantly surprised. He suspected that some, if not most, of his Sluts would react with jealousy or bitterness about the current arrangement, but here they were offering as much help and advice as they possibly could. They wanted Suzanna to succeed, and they were helping her the best they were able.

In the limo, on the way to the secret location Barry had scouted for their "vacation", Suzanna noticed Barry's disquiet and spoke up about it.

"You shouldn't be so surprised, you know. You trained them exceptionally well, and you treat them like princesses. Even as slaves, they probably feel more loved than the average married women."

Her words got Barry beaming. "And what about you, my darling? How loved do you feel?"

Suzanna chuckled. "Dummy. Do you even have to ask? I feel like the luckiest woman in the world. Those things you said—I was so wet and my heart was beating so fast. No one has ever said things like that about me. No one."

Barry placed an arm around her as he kissed his wife firmly on the lips. "And yet, they still didn't accurately describe a billionth of what I feel for you."

Suzanna blushed and leaned her head onto her husband's chest. "I love you, so much." Barry only squeezed her tighter rather than waste words that she already knew.

"So, where are we going?" Suzanna asked, changing the subject. "What's this big mystery about?"

"You'll know when we get there," Barry told her. "I think you'll like it."

******

NOW

"AH!! GOD! YES! YES!!! OH GOD, I'M CUMMING! OH GOD!!"

Barry continued fucking his sister's tight, sturdy asshole while Trena licked and fingered her pussy below. Imani's dark chocolate ass felt so good in his hands. His sister's body was truly amazing—he was so glad that his father had passed such excellent genes to her. She was, for the moment, both his only Black Slut, and the only sister he had. She was eventually going to create an amazing, coffee-colored baby for him, and he could hardly wait.

But right now, they were just having a little brother and sister fun. Imani had begged Barry to fuck her ass, saying that she always loved anal sex, and from her reaction, he knew it was true. She had been cumming nonstop ever since he'd slid inside her. And god, her asshole was so tight! Barry usually preferred fucking pussies—he got the most pleasure when the risk of pregnancy was involved—but fucking his sister's ass was easily one of his favorite things to do now.

Beside the bed, the phone rang. Barry slowed his thrust.

"Answer it," he told Imani. "Find out who it is."

Imani lifted the receiver and tried to catch her breath. "W-Who is it?"

"It's Suzanna. Is Barry there?"

She turned to look back. "It's the Alpha Slut."

Barry immediately began fucking Imani as hard as he could again, and she screamed.

"OH GOOOOD!!!"

Suzanna chuckled. "Well now . . . I can tell that you two are having a good time."

Barry took the phone from his sister, never slowing his thrusts. "Hello, my love. How are things at home?"

"Great, Master," Suzanna said, her voice perking as she heard her husband's. "There's only a small issue that I believe needs resolving. I can take care of it, but I'll need to write a few checks with a lot of zeroes."

Barry licked his lips. His hips still pounded away into his half-sisters ass. "What's the money for?"

"It's a secret," Suzanna giggled.

"Baby Farm . . . ." Barry said, calling her by her slut name.




Suzanna's Darlings Ch. 03



"I know Master; I'm not going to keep it a secret from you forever. I've learned my lesson: I will never hide things from you again. But, I just ask that you trust me for the moment. I have a plan in mind, and I think you are going to love it!"

Barry didn't hesitate with a response. "Alright. Take whatever you need. I trust you, Suze."

"Thank you, honey," she cooed. "You won't regret this, Master. I promise."

When the two of them hung up, Barry leaned forward into his sister's ass and truly reamed it as hard as he could, violently fucking it until he unleashed his load deep inside.

******

Ariadne and Suzanna spent a couple of hours making slow, sweet love to each other, and Suzanna was good to her word . . . Ariadne did forget. At least, for a while. But, once it had ended and the pleasure was gone again, Ariadne's dread returned. She was still sobbing into her pillow, feeling more ashamed of herself now than ever.

Was this the only way to fix her problems now? By throwing herself headfirst into lust?

She slept for a short while, holding her daughter in her arms and admiring the grandchild that was growing in the young woman's belly. Suzanna truly looked gorgeous pregnant, and she was happy that her son had finally managed to give her the baby she wanted.

Ariadne drifted to sleep dreaming of what the child would look like. A Garrett child with fair hair would be so beautiful . . .

"Come on, Aria. Time to wake up. Let's go."

Aria opened her eyes and saw Suzanna standing beside her next to the bed, dressed in her "disguise."

In the Garrett household, a "disguise" was what the rest of the world called "clothes"—ordinary, boring clothes. But, Barry's women weren't people. They were property. They were Sluts. When they went out in the world and dressed normal, they were only Sluts pretending to be people.

Thus, "disguises".

"Teacher . . .?" Ariadne said with a yawn. "What are you doing . . .?"

"I said we're leaving, Aria," Suzanna stated authoritatively. "Get yourself disguised immediately. We're going out. That is an order from your Alpha Slut."

Ariadne immediately sprang to her feet. "Yes, Madame! Where are we going!?"

"Oh, you'll find out in a little bit. But, please hurry. We've got several stops to make, and the driver is already waiting for us."

******

MONTHS AGO

When the limo finally came to a stop, Barry woke Suzanna and pointed out of the window. Suzanna glanced up and her eyes were aflame in an instant.

"Barry! Oh my God! Is . . . is this . . ."

He nodded. "Yes, sweetheart. This is the apartment building where you used to live . . . where you brought me when you helped me walk again."

The door opened, and Barry's driver helped Suzanna out. "How . . . how did you . . .?"

Barry didn't reply, and merely walked by, heading toward the entrance. "Suze, if you don't get your ass inside in two minutes, you're sleeping in the damn car!"

Suzanna shot Barry a wicked glance, but quickly scrambled in her high heels to follow. Once the pair was in the elevator, Barry hit the button for the familiar floor and waited for the lift to rise.

"Okay, so here's the lowdown," Barry stated. "I'm going to call this 'Slut Boot Camp'. I am going to be in control of your daily activities, including your diet, your exercise, your recreation, and everything else that doesn't include pissing and shitting. You will only wear what I tell you to wear, sleep when I tell you to sleep, and do what I tell you to do. As long as you stay here with me, your body is under my complete control until I get that contrary womb of yours in line. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir!" said Suzanna, grinning ear-to-ear.

"There's still time to back out of this now," Barry told her. "You know that I'll love you no matter what, Suze, but you want me to collar you . . . and collaring means that I will own you, body and soul, and I will not have a body that disobeys me when there are perfectly good eggs inside of it. I want a goddamn baby from you, so if you're going to be mine, I'm going to have to put my foot down."

Suzanna reached up and gently caressed her man's face. "You have no idea how wet you're making me right now, honey. I've wanted this for years now. Yes, I am ready. I want you to lay claim to me . . . to bring this blasphemous body under control and stake your claim in my womb. That's what it was always meant for . . . from the moment I fell in love with you."

Barry smiled and kissed her hand. "Then from this moment on, when I am in command, you will call me 'Master', understand?"

"Yes, Master," Suzanna agreed. "Although, I will miss calling you 'Papa'."

"You can call me that on special occasions," Barry said with a wink. The elevator door slid open in front of them. "Now come on, let's go inside."

The couple exited the elevator and treaded a familiar, nostalgic path. When the door open, Suzanna's jaw almost fell as she stepped back into her old apartment.

"Wow . . . oh my gosh, Barry! It's . . . it's . . ."

"Exactly like you left it, isn't it?"

Suzanna glanced around her old place. She had packed up everything when she'd left, and sold much of the furniture after she'd moved in with Barry in their Beverly Hills home. But, the place was almost completely intact. Most of the furniture was the same. Heck, Barry had even reproduced most of the art and décor she'd had, right down to an exact duplicate of her old Bachelor's degree.

"I wanted this place to look exactly as it did the first night you brought me here," Barry told her proudly. "I spared absolutely no expense."

"But . . . how did you manage this? How did you get all of this done in such short notice?!"

"'Short notice'?" he scoffed with a snort. "Silly girl, I've been working on this for the past three years. I've had this in mind for a while, and I'd planned to do it whenever you and I chose to go on a second honeymoon. But the current circumstances, what with one of us in need of 'physical rehabilitation' again, make this a lot more poetic don't you think?"

Suzanna's eyes watered, and she couldn't fight back the tears that came flowing.

"My God, Barry . . . I . . . I don't . . . I don't know what to say . . . ." As she began weeping, did her best to prevent her tears from ruining her makeup, Suzanna turned herself away from her husband. "I can't believe I ever . . . that I ever doubted . . ."

"Doubted that you would always be my favorite, hm?" Barry asked. "It's not your fault. After all, I spent so much time and energy training, fucking, and impregnating my Sluts that I never really made it clear. I never made it understood that no one would ever replace you. But, today is where that ends. From today on, I want there to be no mistake that you are the number one woman in my life."

He came behind her and enveloped her in his powerful embrace. "I would give up all of the others . . . even my Mom . . . if you needed me to. I would never touch another woman again in my life, if you only stayed with me forever."

Suzanna shook her head. "So you say, but I think that's puppy love talking, darling. And besides, they're a part of you as well, now. You wouldn't be the man you are if you didn't have your Sluts, and I wouldn't want that. I love the man you've become."

"In that case," Barry said, pulling aside the collar of his wife's blouse and kissing her ever so gently upon the neck. "Why don't we go right to bed, and get our second honeymoon started properly?"

Suzanna turned and met his eyes with a curt gleam. "Oh, already? But, as I recall, you and I didn't actually fuck until several months after you moved in with me."

"What?" Barry scoffed. "You think I'm waiting months to get at that pussy? Bitch please. You get your ass naked right now."

"Yes, Master," Suzanna said, immediately reaching down and lifting her shirt clear over her head in one fell swoop.

Barry's face was filled with life as he beheld his wife's gorgeous C-cups and bouncy pink nipples. He never ceased to be amazed at how healthy, alive and perky they were. Suzanna always had breasts that looked eager to be touched, begging to be tasted. And Barry just couldn't help himself.

He leaned forward and took one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking on it ferociously, growling and pulling with his teeth. Suzanna moaned and gasped and stroked his head as she let him act out his primal urges on her tender bosom. Barry continued to nibble on his wife's sensitive nipples before switching his attention immediately to the other. All the while, Suzanna let herself be at his mercy.

Finally, Barry tore away and began to unbutton his own shirt.

"Oh no, Master," Suzanna decried. "Please, allow me."

Suzanna's slender fingers moved to Barry's shirt and swiftly began unbuttoning him. Suzanna was a seasoned pro at this sort of thing—she had been a porn star until recently, after all—and so, she had his shirt off and on the chair behind him in less than three seconds. Then, she turned her attention to his lower extremities. Again, she had his shoes, pants, and boxers off and on the floor sooner than fifteen seconds.

She kept an eye on his hungry cock the whole time. Barry's manhood had never been more ready, and Suzanna noticed. She was practically salivating, ready to put her mouth all over it. She finally got the opportunity once Barry was completely naked, and he hastened things by taking the back of her head and shoving his cock into her mouth until it went all the way to her throat.

As usual, Suzanna came immediately upon feeling a cock press the back of her mouth so firmly. Her arms flailed and her eyes glazed over for a moment before she came to her senses, leaving a stream of her pussy juices on the hardwood below. Barry allowed her to come down from her high before he began stroking his cock in and out of her mouth, fucking the orifice like a cunt. Suzanna's hands reached up to cup and massage his balls while at the same time firmly squeezing the cheeks of his ass.

Barry fucked his wife-slave's mouth for several minutes, giving himself enough time to establish a steady rhythm and to let the tension in his balls build to their zenith. When he finally came, it was with a great enough fury to make him roar. He tensed up and shoved his cock as far down as he could get it until he came deep into his wife's throat. Her hands gripped tight on his thighs as she held herself in place, her mouth like a vise around his cock as she made sure to get every single drop.

She spent another full minute trying to squeeze everything that was left in her husband's cock. Then, she set herself upon slathering her cum-mixed saliva all over his thick shaft, keeping him nice and hard for the duration of the night. She knew full well that Barry wasn't like most men—he had the stamina to cum as many times as his Sluts could keep him hard. She knew this because she'd trained him to be that way, back when she was Madame Zanna.

. . . Back when they lived together under this very roof.

"That's enough," Barry told her finally. He actually had to pull her up and yank her away from his cock, because otherwise, Suzanna would have never gotten enough. "I want you in the bedroom. I have something special planned."

"Yes, Master," Suzanna said obediently.

She walked off to the bedroom, her heels clicking loudly on the wood . . . a sound that she knew drove him mad with lust. She'd worn heels like that back then, too . . . and whenever he'd heard them, he knew that Madame Zanna was soon to be making an appearance. Years later she was no longer the dominant, but Barry's instincts hadn't changed.

When she got to the bedroom, she lay herself down upon it, throwing her legs as far apart as she could muster, keeping her thighs wide and inviting for her Master.

"Hang on just a sec," Barry said as he approached the bed. Let me see if they left it where I asked them to."

Barry reached underneath and brandished what appeared to be an innocuous black box. Opening it, he retrieved a pair of sturdy leather cuffs, and smiled wickedly at his submissive.

Suzanna easily recognized them. They were cuffs designed to keep her legs bent and her thighs open at all times. They shackled her shins and hands together so that when done properly, there was no way to close her legs or lower them. Further, her hands would be bound and helpless, allowing her captor to do whatever he liked to her.

"Now, you're going to lie still like a good Slut," he said to her. "Don't move until I've got you secured properly, understand?"

"Yes, Master," Suzanna cooed.

Barry went to work, securing his Slut exactly the way he wanted her, keeping her locked in the whorish, promiscuous pose that he wanted. When she was at last bound exactly as he needed, he nodded his approval and then reached under the bed a second time.

"There's . . . there's more, Master?" Suzanna asked.

Barry only grinned evilly as he retrieved his second set of toys. This time, he emerged with a chain of some sort, in addition to something that Suzanna had never seen him use before—a ball gag!

"Now, don't get the wrong idea," Barry told her. "I'm not going to gag you because you've displeased me. Quite the opposite, in fact. I'm going to gag you because I'm going to have you in so much pleasure tonight that I don't want to cause problems for the neighbors. I want us to be welcome here for however it takes to get you knocked up, so that means taking every precaution that I can. Understand?"

"Yes, Master," Suzanna said with a nod and a swallow.

"And this," Barry said, looking toward the chain, "is simply something I'm fond of. I rather like leashes for my pets. It always brings a certain level of empowerment."

Again, Suzanna nodded.

"So then, no more talk. Let me get started." Barry came to the side of the bed and quickly clamped one part of the leash to his bedpost above his wife and then looped the rest of the chain around her neck. There was plenty of slack as a precaution . . . there was no danger of Suzanna accidentally coming to any harm . . . but, there was still only enough to keep her near the bed.

Once she was bound, gagged, and chained, Barry stood back to admire his work.

"There. Now you look ready," he said.

And yet, he then reached under the bed a third time. Suzanna's eyes widened, but with the gag, she couldn't ask anything. So, she merely watched and waited until her Master reappeared . . . this time, holding a solid leather flogger.

"Now, I know that you liked to use a stinger, love," Barry said to her as he proudly held his tool. "But, I've always preferred thick leather strips like this. Less breakage of the skin, and more of a hard, even slap across the flesh."

He quickly pulled back and thrust the weapon forward, slapping the inside of his wife's thighs with the flogger, the hard leather slapping firmly against her flesh and resonating throughout the room with a firm snap. Suzanna winced and howled through the gag, and Barry watched as her soft, peachy meat began to redden into a ripe pink.

"There, you see? I didn't break through the skin, but you felt that, didn't you?"

Suzanna nodded slightly.

"I said, didn't you?!" Barry demanded, this time slapping the other thigh. Again, Suzanna cried out, still gagged and bound and scarcely able to move. However, she did manage to nod her head more pronouncedly.

"Good girl," Barry stated. "Now, I'm sure that you're ready for my cock . . ."

Suzanna nodded even more fiercely.

". . . But I'm not quite done yet. I want to get both of those thighs to a nice off-red before we begin." Barry sank his knees onto the bed and loomed over his wife menacingly.

"So then, my dear. Brace yourself."

******

An hour. That's how long he continued to flog her thighs.

Suzanna's body had become putty by the time he was through, and her thighs had become so red that they were practically smoking. Barry ran a firm hand across both sides of her soft, tender legs until he was finally satisfied.

"Very good," he told her. "I believe I'm satisfied now."

He reached over and undid the gag, pulling it away from her mouth. Suzanna gasped, happy to finally get in long breaths after such a protracted time of screaming without being able to fully inhale.

"So then, are you ready for me to fuck you?"

"Y-Y-Yes M-M-Master!" she stammered.

"In that case, you wouldn't mind begging for my cock, would you?"

"N-No, M-M-Master."

"Then what are you waiting for? Beg me."

"Please, Master. Please fuck me. Please fuck my pussy."

"That's not very specific. What do you want to be fucked like?"

"Like a whore. Like a dirty, cum-hungry whore, Master."

"Fuck you like a whore you, say?"

"Yes, Master. Don't hold anything back! Fuck my pussy like you want to, deep inside. Fuck my pussy until you cum inside it. Knock me up, if you want. Cum in me, over and over. Treat me my pussy like a cum depository!"

Barry smiled and then placed the gag back over his wife's mouth.

"Very well. Since you begged me with such conviction."

Barry sank his body onto hers and slid his cock into her soaking, moist pussy. Suzanna screamed through the gag, her thighs on fire as her husband pressed between them. Pain and pleasure both erupted all over her, causing the most intense reaction she'd ever had in her life. Every muscle tensed and then fell limp. By the time she came back to reality, Barry was rutting away in her pussy, fucking her like a tramp.

Barry fucked her like this for hours. He came, and then left the room without a word, leaving her bound. He would place a plug into her pussy before he left, just to be sure that none of his cream leaked out. Suzanna knew that, in her current position, she was optimized for conception, and plugging his seed inside her was only increasing those odds.

Barry left her bound and chained for a long while, and she could hear him making phone calls, checking on the house and his businesses. Once or twice, he would step into the room and check on her, making sure she was still plugged. He even sat on the bed next to her at one point and began sucking on her nipples while simultaneously holding a conversation with someone on the other line.

******

Throughout their stay in their old apartment, Barry put Suzanna through the wringer, completely dominating her in every aspect of their lives. At one point, Barry had to invite a business partner over for a lunch meeting, so he ordered Suzanna to clean up and make sure the smell of sex was gone. He then told her to place a dark tablecloth under the center table of the living room and to stay down there for the duration of the meeting.

Suzanna stayed on the floor, under the table the whole while Barry and his business partner sat at opposite ends. Barry, however, sat down and immediately unzipped his pants. He pointed to his crotch, instructing Suzanna to fish out his cock.

She did so, and began to give Barry a long, satisfying blowjob. She did this throughout the entire meeting, without Barry's guest ever being wise. Barry somehow even managed to cum in her mouth twice without letting on.

That wasn't the only means that he dominated her. Barry used Suzanna's body as furniture, he made her go downstairs to check for the mail completely nude, and he constantly fucked her out in public. One day, he pushed her down onto her knees and fucked her from behind inside of a movie theater. Half of the movie, the audience could barely hear what was going on over Suzanna's moans, sighs and screams of passion.

And of course, Barry got away with it because he was rich. Whenever anyone complained or spoke up about their voyeurism and exhibitionism, their objections mysteriously seemed to vanish whenever Barry handed them a large stack of bills. Barry usually wasn't one to flaunt his wealth or abuse it, but for her, it he was willing to make exceptions.




Suzanna's Darlings Ch. 03



******

One day, Barry told Suzanna that he wanted her to dress nicely . . . in a disguise that would be suitable for a special occasion. Suzanna donned her best spaghetti-strap dress and followed him out to the car. She had no idea where they were going until she suddenly recognized the path he drove.

"Oh my God," she exclaimed. "Are we going back to the school?!"

He only smiled.

Barry and his wife of eight years walked arm-in-arm as they revisited the campus of the University of Central California at Fresno, where they'd both attended and graduated. The beautiful couple seemed more than a little out of place amongst the younger, jeans-and-tees-wearing crowd of coeds. Dressed in a $900 suit and $3,000 dress respectively, they appeared to everyone within eyeshot as a couple of movie stars. The thought of it made Suzanna chuckle.

"I remember when I first saw you; you didn't dress too different from these kids. Baggy jeans and t-shirts and shit. Now look at you," she said as she laid her head gently upon his shoulder.

"Hey, I still wear jeans sometimes," Barry protested.

"Yeah, but not nearly as much as you wear your 'Fuck me' clothes," she joked. "Nowadays, tailored jackets, pressed slacks and fresh shoes are a staple of your wardrobe."

"You're one to talk. Everything you've ever worn since I've known you has been 'fuck me' clothes, even when we were students."

"Well, they work as advertised, don't they?" she said, squeezing his arm.

He kissed her on her forehead, and the two continued on.

They soon found themselves reentering the Administration Building, heading to the third floor, where the Office of Student Employment was located. This place had significance for them. This was where Suzanna had held an on-campus job for more than three years, and where she and Barry had first met. The place still looked almost identical to the way it had back then, with only a few cosmetic differences.

As the two entered the office, nostalgia practically blasted them in the face from every direction. The same desk, the same cubicles, the same paint on the walls . . . even the same unidentifiable scent still lingered. Barry and Suzanna even glanced at one-another and smiled as they looked to the reception desk and saw a young, pretty blonde sitting there, eager to greet them.

"Hello, can I help you?" she asked sweetly.

Gazing at the attractive blond typing at the keyboard, Barry could suddenly taste the déjà vu.

"Hi," he said, meeting her soft blue eyes with his own piercing gaze. Suzanna could barely hold back a smirk. "My wife and I are just soaking in a bit of nostalgia. This is office is the exact spot where the two of us met, you see."

"Oh, how romantic!" she stated with a gleam. She brushed her silken, golden hair back and took a look around the rather drab and humble university office. "I guess, anyway."

"Oh, it's very romantic," Suzanna told her. "This office is really very dear to my heart. I worked here at one point, for more than three years."

Her eyes widened. "Oh, you must be Suzanna!"

She beamed. "Why, yes I am."

The young woman sighed and shook her head. "God, now I get it."

"Get what, hun?"

Samantha raised her hands into a limp shrug. "Ever since I started working here, there's been this little running gag that people sometimes say. I've heard it on and off and it always made me wonder."

"What 'gag'?"

"They said I got 'the Suzanna effect', or something. I think it's shorthand for the fact that we've had twice as many boys coming in looking for jobs since I've worked here. In fact, now I'm starting to think the fact that I'm blond and blue-eyed is why I got hired."

Suzanna laughed. "Yeah, that might definitely be it. When I was working here, we eventually ran out of applications."

The blonde sighed, "Yeah, well, you made a really difficult standard to live up to, ya know?"

"Nonsense," Barry protested. "You simply choose to leave much of your beauty untapped. My wife, on the other hand, wasn't quite as restrained." Barry turned and saw the eye that Suzanna gave him. "What? It's true and you know it."

"Well, thanks," the girl replied, fidgeting with the blue pen between her fingers. "But it's not like I really want all that attention. I'm just trying to get through school, y'know?" She stopped to clear her throat and straighten her blouse just a smidge. "Anyway, the office is closing up in about thirty, so I'm the only one still working the desk. I think Gladys and Mitchell worked here when you did, so if you wanted to say hi, you'll have to stop in another time."

"Maybe next year," Barry answered, leaning his bulk on the desk. "But we really didn't come to see anyone in particular. In fact, it's been very nice meeting you . . ."

"Samantha."

"And I'm Barry," he said. "Samantha, I was wondering if you wouldn't mind taking a quick coffee or smoke break so that my wife and I could have some time alone. Just a quick fifteen or twenty minutes would do, and then we'll be out by the time you close."

Samantha looked a bit confused. "What . . . what are you two going to be doing when I step out? I . . . I don't think that this is—"

Barry reached into his pocket and produced a money clip holding together a load of bills. Just the very first bill on the stack was a $500 note sporting the mug of President William McKinley, and there had to be another twenty or thirty bills in the stack, if not more. Samantha's eyes went wide, and her mouth dropped. Barry didn't even bother counting the money. He just held it for her to take, staring right into her eyes.

"Samantha, how much do you make in a month working here? This is only a part-time job, and I'm sure they pay you minimum wage."

Samantha's eyes glanced sidelong at Barry. Then she smirked. "You said twenty minutes, right?"

"At maximum, yes," he responded.

The young girl gently took the cash from his hands and stuffed it somewhere deep into her bra. "Well, my foot was falling asleep anyway . . ." she said as she began to stand.

Barry and Suzanna stepped aside to allow her to exit from behind the desk and head out of the office. She cast the couple one last knowing smile before disappearing, and then Barry and Suzanna glanced back at one another before breaking into uproarious laughter.

"Jesus, Barry . . . I'm surprised you're still here. You do realize how badly she was screaming for you to fuck her, right?"

"Of course I do. Her lips reddened and began pouting the moment she laid eyes on me. And when conversation started, she began fondling with her pen—the closest phallic symbol she could find. Not to mention the flick of the hair, the way her wrists moved limply, the number of times she adjusted or touched her clothes . . ."

Barry knew every visible signal that told of a woman's interest. The way she sat, which direction her legs pointed as she spoke, where her hands went, what parts of her body she emphasized . . . . Every person on Earth had subconscious and instinctual courtship responses that they immediately use whenever near a potential mate. Most people didn't recognize when others did it, and even fewer realized when they did it themselves. But, for the past eight and a half years of his life, Barry had dedicated himself to not only reading that sort of body language, but communicating with the proper words and body language in response.

Samantha had been sending him the signals throughout the entire conversation, and Barry had fed into nearly all of them.

"So, aren't you going to go and fuck her?" his wife asked, licking her lips excitedly.

"Are you crazy?!" Barry said, stepping closer to his woman, enveloping her into his arms. "This is our moment, darling. This place is where we met. I will never fuck another woman here."

His eyes narrowed. "You, on the other hand . . ."

With one motion, Barry pulled both straps of his wife's dress to the sides and watched the entire garment fall right away, leaving her completely nude in the office where they'd first met. Barry stepped away and quickly undid his belt buckle, and in the meantime, Suzanna stepped to her former desk and placed her hands flat upon it. She bent herself forward, straightened her legs, and lifted her ass as high as she could. She held her position, waiting for her husband to come and mount her like a bull would a cow.

When Barry had dropped his pants and fished his cock out, he quickly moved behind Suzanna and placed both of his hands on her round, shapely ass. His fingertips then traveled between her legs and smoothly ran up and down one of her thighs, making her entire body tremble from the slightest touch. Barry ran the tips along the inside of the right thigh, gently moving up and down, and then switched to the left. Suzanna was purring with excitement now, and her eyes had fallen half-closed while her gorgeous ruby lips were parted and panting.

They only had twenty minutes, but Barry wasn't in so much of a hurry as to not make this special for both of them. Touching his wife inside this office, the place where they'd met, was an indescribable turn-on. The familiarity of the place, the memories of their youthful selves, and the naughtiness of doing it where Suzanna had once worked made them both unbelievably hot and ready.

Barry was slipping his fingers in and out of his wife's hot pussy now, letting her drip cum on what was going to be "her" desk again for the next twenty minutes. Suzanna's ass was shaking and churning now, instinctively reacting to Barry's powerful finger strokes. She groaned and let herself cum as many times as he allowed it. Her tits heaved and swayed as she struggled to retain her balance.

Finally, Barry had had enough. He needed his cock inside of his Slut. He needed to fuck her now.

He gently eased himself in, allowing Suzanna to savor every inch of his cock as he gently pushed forward. She gripped the desk harder, steadying herself so that her husband had complete access to her pussy. She made sure that she got him all the way inside of her, where he always belonged.

Barry paused before he began. He gently touched his wife's back and his hands conformed to her shape, gently touching her until they swept around to fondle her beautiful breasts.

"And as I already told you," he said suddenly. "I've been dreaming of a blond Garrett for a very, very long time now. That Samantha girl seems like a natural blond, so fucking her will have to wait. I didn't bring any condoms, and there's only one blond that a baby from I want right now."

Hearing that made Suzanna sob and burst into tears. "Oh yes! Yes, honey! Yes, master! I promise I'll give you a baby! I'll give you a blond Garrett, just like you want! A thousand, if you want them! Please, just fuck me! Fuck me and make me pregnant!"

Barry smiled and thrust deep into Suzanna and began fucking her with utter savageness. He banged her as hard against that desk as he possibly could. Suzanna's naked body fell upon the wooden desk, her sweat covering the counter. She let her body turn to putty, merely blocking out every other thought and sensation except the feeling of her husband and Master's cock as he plowed into her again and again. She maintained only enough awareness to coax the walls of her cunt to massage his shaft as best as she could. She tried everything she could to maximize the pleasure he received. She only wanted to please him.

For the next fifteen or so minutes, Barry fucked Suzanna without slowing or missing a beat. He was like a machine. Caught in the wave of pleasure, Barry couldn't help himself.

And finally, when he could feel his orgasm coming on, Barry told her, "I'm going to cum inside you, Slut, and I don't want any of it going to waste, you understand?"

"Yes, Master!" Suzanna cried.

"All of my seed is precious. Any one of them could be our baby. I want them all to have a fair shot at impregnating you."

"Yes, Master! They'll all get their chance! I won't let a single one get away! I'll let them find as many eggs inside me as they can! I'll have your twins, triplets, quadruplets or whatever! I just want your baby so bad!"

Unbelievably, Suzanna's words made Barry snap. His body suddenly jerked, and he screamed in pleasure while his cock exploded and his cum rushed forth, pumping his sperm into Suzanna's womb. That was the first time, in years, that Barry had been unable to control when he came. He was just so hot, so caught up in the moment that his body had reacted without his consent.

But God did it feel so good to lose control. As he cradled his wife and continued to feel his seed seeping into her, he had never felt so exhausted, so fulfilled, or so in love.

*****

When Barry and Suzanna left the office, they didn't clean up after themselves. They left Suzanna's sweat on the desk, not bothering to clean it, or the cum she'd leaked on the desk. Soon after they were gone, Samantha would return, and if she didn't know what had happened while she was gone, she soon would. Even if the thought of another woman's cum on her desk disgusted her, the thought of sex, the aroma and pheromones would linger for some time. Barry had also "accidentally" placed a business card in that clip of money he'd handed her, giving her the direct number to his cell.

There was no guarantee, of course, that any of this would work and that she'd call . . . but he figured his odds were about 98% that she would.

Barry didn't even allow Suzanna to put her clothes back on—instead taking a plug he'd brought with him and placing it inside her pussy . . . plugging it all the way and now allowing even a single drop of his cum to escape her. Every single one of his boys were inside her now, fighting to make their child.

He kept her naked all the way out. The school campus was closed, so the people were scarce, but Suzanna couldn't help but feel like such a used Slut walking back to their car, following her husband without a stitch of clothing, and a plug keeping her pussy full of cum.

This was undoubtedly the most erotic thing she had ever done in her life.

For the next few days, she and Barry continued their usual routine of eating, fucking, exercise, fucking, watching television, fucking, going for walks, fucking, bathing, fucking, sleeping and then fucking, in addition to a little bit of fucking, fucking and then more fucking.

About a week later, Barry was sitting in the living room, reading over business reports when Suzanna walked in, dressed in the see-through nightie that he allowed her to wear. She came with a wiggle in her step and a grin on her face that made his cock rise in an instant.

"What can I do for you, my pet?" he said, glancing up. "Do you need a good fucking?"

Suzanna purred and said. "Always, Master. But, that's not specifically why I came. I wanted to show you . . . this."

Suzanna brought her hands from behind her back and showed Barry a small, home pregnancy tester.

"It's Blue," Barry said. "Blue is bad, right?"

Suzanna chuckled and shook her head. She broke into a smile, and proud tears began to fall. "No . . . no it's not, my darling. I'm . . . I'm pregnant."

She said the words again, just to savor the sound. "I'm pregnant."

She said it a third time, practically jumping for joy. "I'm pregnant!"

Barry immediately dropped the papers in his hand and stood. His eyes never left his wife's. He stepped to her and took her into his arms immediately, lifting her from the ground and kissing her everywhere.

"Oh my God! This is the happiest moment of my life!" he exclaimed.

Suzanna broke into an even deeper sob. For her husband, who already had more than a dozen children by various women, to say that this was the happiest moment in his life . . .

How did she ever get so lucky?

******

NOW

"Master?" Ariadne's voice peeked through the door of Barry's office.

Barry looked up, finding his mother dressed in only a silk robe . . . her massive tits still poking through the opening in front while her wide, gorgeous hips pushed the folds back with each step she took.

"What is it, my Slut?" he asked, his cock already beginning to grow.

"Master, I had something to show you."

Barry sat back in his chair and turned away from the computer monitor. "Alright."

Ariadne, barely able to contain a smile, tossed a small white pregnancy tester on the counter.

"Pink. Pink is . . . what?" He had long given up trying to figure out how the damn things worked. All of his Sluts used different brands, so there was no point in even trying.

Ariadne tilted her head, practically beaming. "I'm pregnant, Master."

Barry's eyes lit. "How . . . how did that . . .?"

"It was Suzanna," she said. "I was having another bout of depression, after Emily proposed to me. My infertility, the proposal . . . it all kind of came crashing down on me at once."

Barry stroked his chin. So that was what Suzanna had been talking about when she called him in New York. It also explained why Ariadne had practically thrown herself at him after he'd returned from the trip. He'd seriously probably fucked her a million times in the past week. It was as though she'd suddenly soaked up some of Trena's personality.

"I felt guilty because I was falling in love with another woman, when I still felt like I belonged to your father. I mean, of course I belong to you, Master. But as your Slut . . . not as your wife."

Barry nodded. "I know, love."

"I told Suzanna that I justified what you and I did by saying that I was making more grandchildren for Stewart. And I justified what I was doing with Emily, because she was just my submissive. There was no harm in having a little fun. But, if I married her, then it would mean that I was replacing my late husband in more ways than one."

Barry merely nodded again.

"But Suzanna . . . she found a solution. While we were riding out that day, she said, 'Aria, dear, I hate to say this, but you're a dummy sometimes. It's time to live in the Twenty-First Century, honey.'"

Barry chuckled. "And what did she mean by that?"

"I've become a surrogate mother, Master," Ariadne said. "I've had unfertilized eggs implanted into my womb, waiting for you to give them your seed."

Barry's jaw dropped. "S-So . . . so then . . ."

Ariadne blushed and smiled. "You can make me pregnant again and again and again. As many times as you want, for the rest of our days."

"But . . . but . . . they won't really be 'our' children," Barry said. "They'll be mine, yes, but . . . they won't be yours, too, Ma."

She shook her head. "Again . . . we live in a fabulous time. Technology is truly amazing. I've also been subjected to a radical new procedure. It's called, um, 'Mitochondrial Injection', or something like that. I can't recall the big words. But, the gist of it is that some of my genes were injected into my new eggs in-vitro. While they'll still mostly come from someone else, in a small way at least, there'll be a part of me in them. I'll be no less of a mother to them."

"How . . . how is that possible?"

Ariadne chuckled. "That's what I thought, too. But it's like Suzanna said . . . this is the Twenty-First Century, and we're rich. We can do anything our minds put to it." She stepped around the desk and sat herself upon her son's lap, her bare body pressing against his. She could already feel his cock stiffening fully.

"You have given us so much, Master. You've opened possibilities for us that we never even knew existed before! I can't tell you how happy I am!"

Barry nodded, barely able to contain his lust. "And what about Emily? Have you decided upon that?"