2 comments/ 12169 views/ 0 favorites Muffin By: WFEATHER With my wife Christine away for a week to take care of her nieces while her sister was recovering from surgery, Charlotte and I had the house to ourselves. That was fine, as I had been able to clear my work schedule so that I could be home much more than usual, specifically in the mid- and late-afternoons to spend some quality time with my daughter, something I had not been able to do since the summer before she had started middle school. The fact that I had not been around so much made that Monday afternoon a bit awkward for us both. Since I did have one more work-related task to finish, I was sitting at the kitchen table with the work laptop when Charlotte came to the back door. I think she actually forgot that I would be there, because I heard her talking loudly on her cell phone as she came up the steps and crossed the porch, barely missing a beat as she opened the screen door and slid her key into the lock. Her first sight of me was when the door was about half-open, when she realized someone was sitting at the kitchen table and then her eyes met mine as my fingers continued typing from both muscle memory and a strong sense of what needed to be included in that particular report. That was when her conversation faltered a moment. "Uh, hi, Daddy." "Welcome home, Muffin," I returned warmly, using the long-outworn pet name one of her cousins had pinned on her years earlier. As Charlotte closed the door behind her, she blushed noticeably, which made me wonder what the conversation was truly about. She eyes me curiously once again, muttering "Uh, just a moment," into the cell phone, and then hurrying through the kitchen without even bothering to take off her backpack or her shoes. I almost said something about tracking the snow through the house, but I figured that it was not the right time to mention it, especially given how she had blushed. I simply sighed, listening to her quickly mounting the stairs and taking another sip of coffee as I heard the door to her bedroom close above me. It took me only another ten minutes or so to finish the report and e-mail it to a client, then I found myself wondering about the conversation my presence had interrupted, about the blush which had further colored Charlotte's cold-reddened cheeks. I ultimately told myself that it was because she was no longer accustomed to having me around so much. For years, I was a presence at dinner -- maybe -- and occasionally another member of the audience at a dance competition or at a school choir concert. Typically, the most I saw of Muffin was on the weekends, and even then it was usually in the mornings before we headed off to our activities for the day -- which in her case typically meant spending the day working at a local mall. I had forgotten about my daughter's unusual return from school when I heard her bedroom door finally open again before she descended the stairs. A few moments later, she came into the living room as I was flipping channels, not particularly sure what was worth watching on television during a weekday late afternoon. "Should I make dinner tonight, Daddy?" Charlotte asked. That surprised me a little. I knew that she could cook a few things -- Christine had certainly seen to that -- but I had not truly thought much about what we would do for meals during my wife's absence. "Sure, if you'd like," I answered, "or we could also order Chinese or a pizza, or perhaps go out tonight." She cocked her head slightly to the side, in that way she often did when weighing her options. "I'll cook," she decided. "Dinner at 6?" "Sounds good." "Okay." She turned to head toward the kitchen, then turned back to me. "Um, you probably won't find much of interest on until Hardball starts." "That may be true from what I've seen in the channel guide. At least I'll get to watch Hardball live for once." Muffin smiled, then she did something she had not done in quite a long time: She moved behind my favorite recliner, bent down, kissed my cheek, and hugged me. It was a mundane father/daughter moment, yet it was also significant, for I had a hard time remembering when she had last given me either a hug or a kiss. Ultimately, I turned off the television and closed my eyes. Seemingly seconds later, the scent of dinner roused me from my unintended slumber. During dinner, conversation was initially sparse. In a way, it felt like I was dating again, going through the motions of feeling out the woman with whom I was sharing the meal. And that thought sparked another thought: My daughter was a woman. "Um, Daddy?" That shook me from my thoughts. Charlotte was a high school senior, graduating in just a few months -- seemingly in just a few days -- and then heading off to college a few months after that. While I had seen her briefly nearly every day for years, she had changed, she had transformed from the girl who wore pink dresses and pretty bows in her hair into a woman who was very similar to her mother both in form and in personality. "Sorry, Muffin," I apologized, feeling slightly warm -- was I blushing? "I just realized that you've..." "That I've...?" she prompted. "You've grown up. I mean, I've seen it, obviously, but somehow just never truly, consciously noticed it." "Good. Then will you please stop calling me 'Muffin?'" I smiled, then laughed, and she joined me, and somehow, that seemed to break the ice. Muffin MILF Note: If you find the idea of interracial sex or older women offensive then this story is not for you. That's why they invented the back button. *** Sarah watched her son's team take the field from her perch at the concession stand. As usual, she had gotten up early before dawn to make dozens of home baked muffins and cookies. As a single mum, she could not afford even the small weekly travel fees that would allow her son to continue with his passion, American football. So instead she had volunteered to help the team raise money through the sales of her cookies and muffins. Since the divorce from Michael's father, her self-esteem had dropped to all time lows. At forty-six, she was still an average size twelve, but there were more than a few grey hairs sprinkled into the neat ponytail in which she normally wore her dark blonde hair. Of course having born three sons, her body also showed the wear; her abdominal muscles were anything but flat. She had the tell-tale muffin-top that denoted her status as a mum. Her 38C breasts sagged a great deal more than they had when she was twenty-something. In the past three years since her husband left them for a younger and prettier woman, she had had only a few dates. Her only sexual relief came from the rabbit vibrator she kept hidden beneath her plain white cotton knickers in the chest of drawers. She knew that she needed cock, badly, but she lacked the confidence to actually begin even a casual sexual relationship. Instead she poured herself into her writing and her sons. Even though Michael's brothers were now away at university and even Michael would be joining them in a few months, she was reluctant to think about how her life would change. The idea of an empty flat and an even emptier life was depressing. So for now she played mummy to the hilt. What of course Sarah failed to see was how the jumpers she wore to hide her large breasts, jeans that clung tightly to her round bottom, and especially her maturity and experience filled the heads of more than one of Michael's football buddies. The word MILF, mother I'd like to fuck, was one that Michael had learned to hate as his friends, especially the young black guys, on his team spoke about his mum. They had given her a particularly offensive nickname, the Muffin MILF. He hated it. As Michael approached his team mates, he once again heard the horrid song: Have you seen the muffin MILF, the muffin MILF, the muffin MILF that lives of Drury Lane. The irony was of course that several of his friends had visited their two bedrooms flat which in fact was on Drury Lane in north London. All he hoped was to make it through this final year before university without his mother finding out what they thought of her. He had actually tried to quit the team at the beginning of the year when he had overheard a couple of the players talking about his mum like that, but his mother thought it was because of the money so she had come up with this whole muffin thing which of course only made it worse...thus the awful song. Tyreese, the team captain and running back, was the worse. He was almost twenty and would soon be going up to the seniors' team. Michael knew that he was finishing his final courses as a youth worker and had been offered a manager's position with the younger teams. Before the whole MILF thing he had considered Ty one of his friends, but not anymore. They had almost come to blows a couple of games back when Ty had told him that he should consider it all a compliment that his mum was 'still so fuckin' hot.' No one wanted to think of their mum's as hot; not at her age. Hot was his girlfriend, Kelly. At seventeen, with her dark brown hair and eyes and her slim figure, she was perfect. As usual, the team lost. While the senior team was often in the championship, the juniors and over 18's rarely had even a winning season. Kelly though was waiting for Michael in the stands. She was more than happy to console him one his loss. Normally, he would stick around and help his mum put away the tables in the small storage room and pack whatever leftovers there were into her Mini. But today, he wanted to leave straight away to finally meet Kelly's family. His mother of course was more than happy to oblige, but when Ty came over and with a huge smile said, 'Mrs Turner, I'd be happy to help you out,' Michael almost decided to stay. The last thing he wanted was his former friend anywhere near his mother. Of course, his mother would hear nothing of it and blindly thanked Ty for his offer. Kissing Michael and Kelly on the cheek, she shooed them away as she turned back to the buff young footballer to direct his efforts. Ty drug his feet; taking his time to do the simple chores that would clear the area of the concession stand. He was waiting for the rest of the team and coaches to leave to make his move. He had been lusting for this woman for almost a year now, ever since Michael graduated from the juniors team to the over 18's. The moment he saw her, he knew he wanted to sample that mature sweet white pussy. His black cock got hard at the thought every time he saw her. And today was the perfect opportunity. Sarah and Ty were bringing the last table into the small storage room, having already loaded her small car with the few unsold items. The storage room was barely four feet by five with a selection of tables, chairs and sundry drinks stacked in it between games. It was here that Ty was determined he would first taste this woman that had filled his fantasies for so long. Turning Ty closed the heavy metal door, knowing that only a few people had a key to it. The tiny forty watt light bulb suspended from the ceiling cast a soft glow over the confined space. He approached her slowly where she was bent over the cases of drinks making her required inventory count. He stroked his already half hard uncut cock through his track bottoms; knowing that within moments it would be buried deep inside the cunt of his fantasy woman. Pushing the elastic waistband down just a tad, his eight inch black cock sprung to life. He fisted it for a moment; a couple of firm strokes were all it took to get it fully hard with that lush wide jean clad bum filling his view. Coming up behind her, one arm wrapped about her waist to draw her back so that his cock was nestled firmly between the cheeks of her arse. His other hand reached around to feel up those wonderful tits. He brushed the large jumper up to reveal a plain white bra bursting with creamy boob. Sarah was shocked at this young man's actions. He was only a couple of years older than her son. Although she was so horny from two years without cock, she could not allow this to happen. 'Stop, Ty. We can't...Michael,' but even to her ears her voice sounded breathless and weak. 'Michael doesn't have to know anything. It is just me and you here,' he replied as he kept working those gorgeous tits. He had pulled the cotton material aside and was now flicking his fingers back and forth between her nipples, rolling the hard peaks firmly between his rough fingertips. Then he would tug and pull gently until he could hear a low moan escape those soft pink lips that he was dying to kiss. Turning her around in his strong arms, he did just that. Before she could utter another silly word of protest against what he knew both their bodies craved, his full lips descended upon hers. His tongue thrusting into her mouth as one hand filled with round bum pulled her against him so tightly that he knew she could feel every single throb of his cock against the juncture of her thighs. His other hand pressed between their hot bodies tormented those tits; pulling at her nipples as his mouth on hers swallowed her moans and groans. Sarah pushed against the young man's strong hand as it squeezed her breasts and tweaked her nipples. The logical side of her brain knew she could not allow this; even though she knew he was over eighteen and legal as it were. Legal and right were sometimes two different things. He was Michael's friend. He was younger than her older sons. A woman of her age had no business doing such things with boys his age. But she was not making much headway. He was far stronger than she was and he seemed to know not only what he wanted, but exactly what her own body wanted and needed too. It was as if her mind and her body were suddenly enemies in this battle. Ty could feel from the way her breasts were tightening beneath his hands and fingers; and hear from her soft moans that he would eventually win this little battle of wills. He also knew that while the storage room was relatively private, they should not risk discovery by prolonging their lovemaking...this time. His goal was simple; satiate his lust, satisfy his woman and leave her wanting more of his hard black cock. Although young, he was confident enough in his skills as a lover to know that he was more than capable of doing just that. Later he would demand that she take a more active part of their loving, but this first time he recognised her mind was too conflicted to manage that. His hands moved to the buttons of her jeans; making quick work of releasing the clasp and zipper. His hands moved back to the round fullness of her bum; thinking how sweet it would be when he finally got to fuck that too. He wondered if she might even be an anal virgin; that thought making his balls draw tight against his body. He knew he needed to bury his cock in that white pussy before he exploded right here; he hadn't embarrassed himself like that since he was fourteen and he wasn't going to start now. Working his hands beneath the tight denim and even the cool cotton that lay beneath, he pushed the offending material half way down her legs. His fingers then sought and found her wet pussy. He was a tad surprised to discover that she was completely shaved but his lips turned up into a broad smile against hers as he continued the kiss; thinking how delicious it would be to eat out that particular muffin. His fingers played against the hard button hidden between the folds of wet flesh until he felt her moans into his open mouth increasing. Breaking the kiss then just enough he whispered, 'Take off your jeans. I'm gonna fuck your wet pussy.' Sarah whimpered at his command. She knew that her body was on the very edge of a powerful orgasm; the first she would have shared with an actual human being in quite some time. But she also knew that logically she should not be doing this with this young man. In the end though her body and its demands for that orgasm won over her mind; and she kicked the jeans and her knickers away: her last protection against this man's demands. Ty smiled as he lifted one of those pale white thighs over his strong dark arm. Pushing her backwards so that round bum was pressed against the stack of drinks, he used his other hand to guide his full hard cock into her wet cunt. He groaned as he pushed into her; unprepared for how tight she felt. Despite having birthed three babies, this pussy was tight from so long an absence of its natural use; pleasuring cocks. He gripped his cock tighter as he pushed harder into her. If she were not so wet, he knew that this fucking would be tearing her up. As it were he knew it would only heighten her own pleasure at his cock. Sarah bit her lip to keep from screaming out at the fullness of his cock. He was substantially larger and thicker than her ex-husband had been. She was not sure that he would even be able to get it into her, but still he kept pushing it against her wet hole. Then she felt it pop through the tight ring of muscles that were the gates to her core. She felt fullness such as she had never experienced in her whole forty-six years on this earth. And with that fullness, her starved body took the release he offered as she came hard around his cock. Ty groaned low at the feeling of those already too tight cunt muscles squeezing his cock like a vice grip. He knew that he was going to blow a huge load very soon, so he pulled back just a bit and then slammed his hips forward as his strong hands gripped her sweet arse cheeks. He began to pound into her; sawing quickly in and out of that wet hole. Sarah's breathing was shallow and quick as she continued to orgasm. Her mind could not fully comprehend that her body had taken that much of this man's cock inside. Her mind actually was barely functioning as he started to pound her in earnest; as one orgasm lead to another and then another. Ty plunged inside her deeply as he moaned, 'I'm cumming inside your white mummy cunt.' He felt a huge load of seed shoot from the end of his cock and find a welcoming home inside her tight body. He trembled as his orgasm seemed to last for several minutes. His hips moved in quick jabs to deposit his load fully into her as deep as possible. Sarah softly floated back to reality as her body continued to pulse and squeeze around her young lovers. It was then that the full impact of her actions hit her. She had allowed a young man, who was only a bit older than her youngest son, to cum unprotected inside of her. At forty-six, she doubted that she was very fertile, but she had not yet entered menopause. Of course, she realised too that the issue of disease should have stopped her as well. She felt panic rising in her throat as she pushed him away and grabbed her jeans and knickers off the floor. She was shaking and practically in tears. Ty though was anything but panicky. He was satisfied and pleased. He knew of course that his lover would likely panic when she realised what they had done, but he was also confident that the reaction of her mature body would haunt her; and eventually drive her back into his arms. He pulled his track bottoms up slowly, careful to adjust his still hard and sensitive cock inside the soft material. When she tried to open the door with her fumbling fingers on the lock, he placed his hand on it preventing her quick exit. 'No one has to know about this; least of all Michael.' Reaching inside the pocket of her jeans, where he had earlier felt the outline of her mobile, he drew it out slowly; knowing that in doing so he was teasingly tugging the material between her legs tighter against her clit. He quickly punched in his number and placed it neatly back inside her pocket; once more being certain to tease her clit. 'When you're horny, call me.' Sarah was in full panic by the time he was done. She practically ran from the storage room to her car. But her fingers were trembling so badly that she did not dare drive yet. The wetness she could feel seeping out of her sore pussy into her knickers was a reminder of how foolish she had been. She sat with her head pressed against the steering wheel for several moments; drawing deep calming breaths. When she finally felt calm, she lifted her head to see him leaning casually against the side of the brick building. Ty knew his woman was more than a bit upset and he thought about offering to drive her home, but decided in the end that would just make her more uncomfortable. What she needed right now was a bit of time to accept the situation and come to terms with it. Although she had cum on many terms a few moments ago, he thought with a smile. Watching her fumble with the ignition, he raised his hand with his thumb and little finger extended, the other curled into a fist; the sign for 'call me.' Sarah could not get away quicker when she saw that cocky smile and hand gesture. Although his smile was not the only thing about this young man that was cocky...that was for sure. When she finally parked the car in front of her home, a short distance from the park, she ran inside. Quickly she filled the tub with warm water and bubble bath to wash the signs of his lovemaking from her body. After making a sandwich for her tea and watching some telly, she was a bit upset when Michael called to ask if he could stay the night with a friend. While that was an increasingly common occurrence, this night she did not want to be alone with the memory of this afternoon or the temptation of that young man. In the end she assented to his request though. She climbed the stairs and slipped alone between the cool sheets of her bed. She tossed and turned unable to get to sleep for quite some time. Finally in desperation, she reached for her rabbit toy hidden beneath the knickers. As she closed her eyes and opened her legs to the buzzing sound of the vibrator, his dark muscular form filled her mind as his hard cock had filled her cunt earlier...and as his seed was still filling her womb even now. Muffy Maureen "Muffy" Douglas knelt down and examined the mutilated, naked body. It had once been a woman, but now its face and torso had been ripped and torn as if by some savage animal. With gloved hands, Muffy spread the corpse's legs, checked around and inside its vulva. There were telltale signs of semen. Muffy sighed heavily and rose to her feet. This was the fourth body that would be found in this condition in the last three months. The police called it the work of a serial killer, even named the murderer "The Shredder" because of the way the body looked---its skin sliced and shredded in strips apparently by some sharp instrument. But Muffy knew better. It looked like the work of an animal because it was the work of an animal. And its instruments were claws and fangs. That this was the work of a werewolf, Muffy didn't doubt. That it was also the work of Weylin Stone, she knew for certain. The condition in which the bodies had been found told her that. They'd all had sex with Stone before he Changed and savagely slaughtered them. Pleasure and pain. That was Stone's modus operandi. It had been that way even before he became---what he was now. They'd been in love three years ago and they recognized a need for each other. Muffy liked to receive pain, Stone more than gladly gave it. Not excessive pain, mind you. Just enough to make ordinary sex a little more erotic. Like the time Stone tied her naked and spread-eagled to the floor, blindfolded her, then slowly massaged her clit with one hand while, with the other, he dripped hot candle wax on her breasts and nipples as she bucked in the throes of an orgasm. Or the time she dressed up and pretended to be a schoolgirl. Stone played a teacher and whacked a cane across her bare ass while she frigged herself to another luscious cum. Something stirred inside Muffy's gut, strong yearning sensations, and she knew what it was---she wanted him again. She realized she was jealous of these other women who had been fucked by him. She wanted to be pleasured by him again. But the murders--- She shook her head. No, that wasn't right. She took out her cell phone, dialed a number. Waited for someone to respond, then said, "Yes, I'd like to report a murder..." Muffy had always found the bodies first. That hadn't been hard to do. She knew what Stone looked for in a woman, knew the places he liked to pick them up, and the places where he always took them. Yet he always managed to stay one step ahead of her. Until tonight. This new body was a fresh kill, which meant Stone would still be somewhere in the area. She searched the ground for prints and heard, in the distance, the wail of police sirens. She glanced up and around at the deserted warehouses that surrounded her. This was where Stone liked to bring the girls, this was where the bodies had been found---but never in a pattern that allowed the police to form some sort of prediction as to when or where he would strike again. Couples wanting privacy where they could indulge their fantasies often frequented the warehouses. Stone and she had often come here several times before...well, before he Changed. Muffy never really understood how the Change had touched Stone. And it was after he Changed that they broke apart. He told her he never wanted to see her again. Muffy heard something from the dark recesses of a doorway. She stared into the shadows, and then saw the wan features of Stone's face, pasty gray in the moonlight, his mouth stained with the blood of his victim. "Hello, Muffy," he said. "It's been a long time," she commented. "I---had to see you again." "Too long..." Stone grinned at her, opened the door behind him and motioned for her to enter. She followed him in, closed the door. The moon glowed ominously through several broken windows above them both. Stone held Muffy's gaze for a long moment before he said, "Take your clothes off." Muffy didn't move, only stared at him. His right hand flew up, slapped her hard across the cheek, jerking her head sideways. "I said, take them off." Muffy's eyes looked down, examined the floor as she slowly began to undo the buttons of her blouse. Stone licked his lips. Muffy shivered. More with growing excitement than from the coolness of the summer night. She opened the final button, pulled the blouse apart to reveal her white breasts with their rose-tipped nipples erect and hard. Stone gazed at them with a half-smile on his lips. He yanked his shirt out of his pants, pulled it over his head and tossed it to the floor. He unclasped and yanked out his belt, dropped his pants so that he stood naked before her. Muffy glanced quickly up and down his body. He looked thin, but she knew the slenderness belied the musculature of his frame. His cock was already hard, bulging towards her like it knew her. "Bend over," Stone commanded. Obediently, Muffy did so. Stone went behind her, flipped up her skirt and yanked down her panties. Her buttocks were moist. He ran a finger down the crack of her ass, stopped for a moment at the entrance to her cunt. "You're wet," he said. He pulled back a little bit, suddenly swung out with the belt. It slashed across her buttocks, a red welt appearing almost instantly. Muffy whimpered slightly. Stone whacked her again, the noise of the slap echoing off the bare walls of the warehouse. He moved in front of her, his cock bobbing before her face. "Do you want it?" he asked. "Y-yes." He grabbed her hair, pulled her face up close to his. "Beg for it. Muffy swallowed. "Stone...I want your cock...I want you to fuck me like you've fucked all those other girls...I want you to fuck me till I can't be fucked any more...give me your cock, Stone...give it to me...please...I beg of you..." Stone grinned, pulled on her hair, forcing her back against the wall of the warehouse. "Spread your legs," he demanded. Muffy did so. Stone positioned himself between them, angled his cock at her cunt and thrust up into it. Muffy gasped at the thickness of it, moaned as he began pumping into her. "You like that, bitch? You want more, bitch?" "Yes!" Muffy screamed. Then the Change came. Face elongating into snout. Fingers into claws. Hair growth. Snarls. Too late to stop it now. Talons slashing downwards, razor-sharp nails slicing flesh, shredding it, fangs digging into muscle and bone, chomping, ripping, tearing, screams of shock segueing to screeches of agony. Then, silence. Wolf reverting to human. Claws to long-nailed female fingers. "Bastard!" spat Muffy at the bloodied mess that had been Stone. "This is my hunting territory..." Muffy and Buffy A Chapter from "The Club on Dorado Cay" Our Story: Blonde, buxom, thirty-something Kim, about to spring a surprise divorce on her philandering lawyer husband, has been kidnapped by a white slaver and sold to The Club on Dorado Cay. A highly secret and exclusive establishment on a remote Caribbean island, The Club maintains a stable of captive women for the use of its extremely wealthy and debauched clientele in their sadistic games. In the following excerpt Kris encounters two of the younger members of The Club. * * * * * * To her surprise life for Kris seemed to settle down quickly to a quiet, even slightly dull routine after the coming out. She had expected, after having been presented to the membership, to be immediately hauled into some horrific torture session, as Alyx had been. Instead, every night for a full week she was requested by an older gentleman who seemed mostly interested in dressing her up in a babydoll, having her sit on his lap while he watched television or a movie, and then giving her a spanking, rather ineffectually, before drifting off to sleep. If he received any sexual satisfaction from the activity Kris could see no external sign of it. Once she was selected with two other women to serve drinks, in the nude, at an afternoon function. There had been some bottom pinching and fondling, but their main duty had been to serve drinks and serve as eye candy. Other than that there seemed to be no great demand for her services. She wasn't sure whether to be relieved or insulted. Alyx had already been subjected to several rather nasty scenes and was starting to make some comments about it. Then one of the other women clued her in. The elderly gentleman was one of the oldest, and wealthiest, members of the Club. He had requested sole access to her during his stay on the island. But now he had returned home. The next day, immediately following lunch, Madam Elspeth came into the lounge. "Kris," she said in her no nonsense allowed manager's voice. "Your presence has been requested for the afternoon. You're to be at the main pool in twenty minutes. Take a quick shower, sunscreen everywhere. Miranda has laid out your costume on your bed." "Who is it, Mistress?" Janine asked. She and Kris had been playing cards. It was mid-week now and there weren't many guests in residence. "It's none of your business, but it's Muffy and Buffy," Madam Elspeth replied. She turned and went back to her office. "Muffy and Buffy," Janine echoed with a chuckle. "Glad they didn't want me." "Muffy and Buffy?" Kris asked. "Ever see an 18 or 19 year old Valley Girl type wearing a T-shirt that says 'Princess in Training'"? Emily asked, looking up from the book she was reading. Kris nodded. "Well, these little bitches should have matching T-shirts inscribed with 'Junior Sadistic Bitch Princesses in Training to Run Women's Concentration Camps'," Emily said. "They're spoiled rotten and have allowances larger than the total income of Iowa. And they just love to make people miserable." "I think it's a mother thing," Lauren added. "Did you ever see their mother? She's got a personality that'd give a snowman frostbite." "I've seen her a few times. I don't think she's into the perv stuff, so the girls must take after their daddy. But she's got a personality that's twisted in its own unique way. You can just sense it when she looks at you. He made her watch while he worked on me one night. I really got the impression that it was my ass he was flogging, but he was thinking about her's. If you look at the slaves the girls prefer to pick on you can see a pattern. More mature looking, motherly types. No offense meant, Kris." "None taken." "Lotsa luck, dear," Emily added as Kris went back to her room. Twenty minutes later she was back at Madam Elspeth's office, dressed in the minuscule yellow string bikini she'd found on her bed. It barely covered her mound and any sudden forward lean would most likely have released her breasts. Why, she wondered, would Muffy and Buffy want her in such an outfit. Mistress Elspeth led her out of the Slave Quarters and across the grounds to the pool enclosure. Entering, they approached two young women, stretched out on recliners, one reading a magazine, the other reading a book. They both were slender, small-breasted blonde-from-a-bottle types who might have come straight from a sunscreen ad in a teen girls' magazine. They were obviously sisters and looked so much alike they might have been twins. Kris guessed they were in their late teens or early twenties and her first reaction on seeing the skimpy two piece suits they wore was "Does your mother know you wear those?" "Kris," Madam Elspeth said, "meet Muffy and Buffy. Girls, this is Kris." Madam Elspeth removed the collar from Kris' neck and left without another word. "Hi, Kris," one of the girls purred. Kris thought it was Muffy. "Nice to meet you. You get to be our slave for the afternoon. Lucky you." The other girl tilted her head forward and peered over her sunglasses at Kris. "So, Kris," she said, "let's be clear on one thing, shall we? While you're our slave your name is not Kris. It's slave-slut. Or maybe slut-slave. Which do you think sounds better? What do you want us to call you?" Kris thought for a moment. Neither sounded particularly appealing. "Slave-slut?" she ventured. "Wrongo!" the girl responded with a nasty sounding nasal intonation. "You're our slave. You don't get to pick your name. You don't think at all. We'll call you craphead if we want. Is that clear?" "Yes," Kris replied, a bit exasperated. "Yes, WHAT?" the girl responded, half rising from the lounge chair. "Repeat after me," Muffy, said, "Yes, mistress." "Yes, mistress," Kris said. "Gawd! Why do they always give us the stupid ones," Buffy said to Muffy. Then she spoke to Kris again. "Another thing, slut-slave. You're our slave. You don't get to pick your clothes. I don't like that suit. So lose it." It was a set up, Kris thought to herself. They specified this suit just so they could have a hissy-fit about it. She undid the bikini top and let it drop, then the bottom. She looked at the girls. They were both obviously inspecting her. "Well?" Buffy asked, drawing the word out. Kris looked at her, not sure just what she was asking. Buffy rolled her eyes. "Are you just going to leave them there?" She turned to Muffy. "Not only stupid, but a slob as well." Kris bent over and picked up the swimsuit. As she did her breasts swung down and hung at full extension. "Hey, don't slap yourself in the face there, slave-slut," Muffy said with a giggle. She turned to Buffy. "If there's a sudden hurricane we can use the slut here for a life raft." Both girls giggled as if the comment was hilariously funny. Then they ordered Kris put the swim suit in the trash and then to kneel at the foot of their recliners. And then they went back to their reading. Periodically one of them would order Kris to get her a drink or rub sunscreen on her. Occasionally they would tell her, in very insulting terms, to watch her posture as she knelt. Kris knelt for a long time, wishing she was in the shade. It was actually getting rather boring. But then Buffy put her magazine down, stretched and wriggled her hips slightly. "God! That article got me hot," she said to Muffy. "I really need to get off." "So why don't you," Muffy replied, not looking up from her book. Buffy looked at Kris. "Slut-woman! Come here," she barked. Kris obediently went to stand beside her. "Take my bottom off," Buffy ordered. Kris was slightly taken aback and hesitated. "Well? Don't you understand English?" Buffy said with a nasty tone. Kris leaned over and grasped the side straps of Buffy's bikini bottom. She hesitantly slid the bottom down Buffy's legs and over her feet, placing it on the concrete beside the lounge chair. Then she straightened up, wonder where this was leading. Buffy slid lower down on the lounge chair and spread her legs, placing her feet on either side. "OK, slut," she said, "on your knees at the end of the chair. Yes, like that. Now, do me." Kris was dumbfounded at the order. She stared at the naked girl's crotch, her slit half hidden by a trimmed but full growth of light brown pubic hair. "Do I have to spell it out for you, idiot? Do me. Get me off. Make me come. You understand?" Kris reached out first one hand, then the other. She gently spread the girl's lips and started to stroke her clitoris. "Not like that, dumbass! With your tongue!" Buffy stuck her tongue out and flicked it up and down provocatively. This is not happening, Kris thought to herself as she leaned forward. I'm not doing this, I'm not. She had never had intimate relations with another woman before, had never gone down on one. She felt intense revulsion as her face neared the girl's crotch. The girl had been in the sun, sweating for some time. The glistening sheen on her inner lips also proved her statement about being turned on. The mixture of scents caused Kris to fear losing her lunch. The part of her mind that was standing back, observing the scene in disgust, wondered what kind of punishment they would devise for puking on a member's pussy. She came a bit closer, tentatively sticking her tongue out. She stopped, unable to force herself to actually come in contact with the girl's pussy. The smell of sweat and sun screen and bodily secretions threatened to gag her. She felt hands on the back of her head, pushing her face downwards. Her nose went right into Buffy's slit. She jerked back, gasping. She almost started to curse the girls out, but caught herself in time. She glared at them, shifting her gaze back and forth, mentally reading them the riot act. "Oh dear," Muffy said in mock surprise, half rising from her recliner. "I think we have a slave revolt on our hands." "Yes," Buffy said, taking off her sunglasses. "We have a revolting slave. We need to teach her some humility." Muffy got up off the recliner and walked to the pool house, where a phone was mounted on the outside wall. Kris remembered that one of the other women had told her no cellphones were allowed on the island, both to prevent eavesdropping on telephone calls and the chance that one of the captives might steal one and make a call for help. "Jeremy?" Muffy said, holding the receiver up to her ear and twisting the cord with the fingers of her other hand, "is the cabana room available....oh, I don't know...until we're done I guess....well, then I guess we'll have to be done in an hour then...thanks a lot, Jeremy." She returned to the recliners. "We've got the Cabana Room for an hour," she said. "On your feet, slave-slut," Buffy said to Kris, getting up off the recliner. A girl took each of Kris' arms and they half led, half pulled her towards a building on the far side of the pool. From the outside it looked like an ordinary service building, with a single door and no windows. Once inside, with the lights flipped on, Kris saw that it had been nicely finished with wood paneling and a polished wood floor. Metal rings were set in various places along the wall and in the floor. At several places chains dangled from the ceiling. A number of chairs, several of unusual design, and sawhorses stood against the walls. A double door cabinet stood against the far wall. They led Kris to the center of the room. Muffy kept hold of her arm while Buffy went to the cabinet. She seemed to know her way around the room. She didn't search through the cabinet long before she returned carrying a pair of leather wrist cuffs, two riding crops and a ball gag. Muffy pulled Kris' arms behind her back, holding the wrists together. With obviously practiced skill Buffy quickly had the cuffs in place. The ball gag followed. "Choose you weapon," Buffy said, offering the two riding crops to Muffy. Muffy chose one. Kris couldn't see any difference between them. "How about a little tug of war, huh?" Buffy asked. "Yeah. That'd be fun," Muffy replied. "Whadda you think, slave-slut?" Buffy asked Kris, suggestively stroking Kris' breast. "Think that would be fun? We have our own special variation we like to play." Muffy went back to the cabinet and returned with a short length of fairly thick rope. Giving her riding crop to Buffy to free her hands she found the center of the rope, then moved her hands a bit off center. She placed this part of the rope in the crease under Kris' right breast and then looped it around, snugging it down tightly before she tied it. Then she tied off the other breast the same way. When she was done there was just a short piece of slack rope between Kris' breasts. With Kris prepared Muffy retrieved her riding crop and picked up the end of the rope dangling to Kris' left. Buffy picked up the rope on her right. They backed off several steps, until the rope was taut. "Ready?" Muffy said. "Go." Both girls pulled hard on the rope. Kris was jerked first one way, then the other. Back and forth she went, forced to sidestep one way, then the other. The girls were evenly matched in strength. That was bad enough. The ropes dug into her sensitive breasts and the loops seemed to be gradually tightening up. But then they added to their fun by taking swats at Kris' butt with their riding crops. The only saving grace was that trying to pull the rope put the girls off balance, and with Kris bobbing back and forth their aim was usually off. The contest went on for ten minutes or more, though periodically the girls had to stop for a breather. During one of these Muffy took her bikini off. Buffy removed her top. She hadn't bothered putting her bottom back on. It was warm in the room and all three were building up a sweat. Finally they lost interest in the particular activity. Kris' breasts, which had turned a disturbing shade of reddish-purple, were unbound. The girls ordered her to stand where she was and returned the rope and the riding crops to the cabinet. When they returned they made a side trip to move a bench with a padded top out towards the center of the room. They led Kris to the bench. Her wrists were unfastened and they had her lie down on her back. Then her wrists were tied together underneath the bench. Her legs were positioned so that they hung over either side. Muffy knelt down beside her and tied her ankles together underneath the bench. The fact that this position kept her legs apart and exposed her pussy wasn't lost on Kris, and if it had been Muffy corrected that by fondling her. Buffy stood over her. "OK, dummy," she said. "We're going to have a refresher class here, so pay attention." She slapped Kris' breasts hard, one after the other. Then she moved down to join Muffy. She was carrying a small leather slapper. "This," Buffy said, placing one hand on Kris' vulva, "is your pussy." Her thumb and forefinger began massaging Kris' clitoris. "And this is your clitoris. Got that. We can have fun with this," she stroked it lightly, "or not." She gave Kris a painful squeeze. The girls' next move surprised Kris. Muffy leaned over Kris' mid-section. She felt fingers spreading her lower lips apart and she felt a tongue lightly flicking her clit. Then she stopped. Buffy had positioned herself so that she was standing next to Kris' head, looking down at her. "And that, Kris," Buffy said, "is a tongue. That is how you do it. And that is how you're going to do me, got it? Because if I'm not happy, you get this you know where." She held the short, narrow leather slapper in front of Kris' face. It was about an inch wide and about five inches extended past Buffy's fist. It was obvious what it was designed for. Buffy handed the slapper to Muffy. Then she raised one leg and swung it over kris, so that she was straddling Kris' head. Slowly she lowered herself into a squatting position. Something about the sight of Buffy's pussy descending towards her, the outer lips spread and gaping, the inner folds slick and almost dripping with moisture, revolted Kris. She tried to turn her head aside, but Buffy placed a hand on either temple and forced her to hold still. Buffy's "I'm not happy," Buffy said. Immediately the slapper struck out at Kris' pussy, not hard but enough to make her twitch reflexively. After a few seconds it struck again. Kris forced herself to open her mouth and extend her tongue. She began working it. Don't think about it, she told herself. Just do it. "Better," Buffy said. "Much better." She was beginning to rock her hips slightly. Surprisingly quickly, and to Kris' great relief, Buffy came. Her body suddenly stiffened, twitching slightly. She made a noise between a moan and a whimper. She started to sink down onto Kris' face. Kris was afraid that Buffy would smother her. But then she slowly lifted herself up and stepped away, stretching. "Not bad, slut-slave," she said. "With a little practice you could be really good. Maybe we'll try this again some time." For her part, Kris was greatly relieved that that was over. She hoped that maybe the girls would be finished with her now that Buffy had gotten off. But her hopes were quickly dashed. There was still Muffy. And while Buffy was enjoying the afterglow Muffy was getting ready to continue the session. Muffy had gone to the side of the room, where the various bits of furniture and apparatus were lined up and dragged a wooden chair, like a captain's chair without the arms, out to the center of the room. The back was sturdily build, the top piece curved and its top edge cut with two shallow scallops. Buffy had gone to the cabinet and returned with more rope. Releasing Kris from the bench, they brought her to the chair. Her arms were pulled behind her back and her elbows bent so that her forearms rested one on top the other. They were tied in this position. Then Kris was forced to sit on the chair, facing backwards, her legs spread apart by the back of the chair. Her ankles were tied to the back legs of the chair. Buffy took another length of rope and located the center by letting it dangle from one hand and adjusting it until the loose ends were about even. Then she looped the center of the rope around the top board of the chair back. Once the rope was secured Muffy pushed Kris forwards while Buffy arranged Kris' breasts so that they hung over the top board. She lashed them in place tightly with the rope. God! Kris thought. These little bitches really had an obsession with breasts. Did they, with their little A cups, have any idea of how much pain they were causing her by treating her boobies so harshly? Something about the look on Buffy's face as she snugged the ropes down told Kris they did. Muffy had returned from the cabinet. She returned carrying a multi-tailed flogger. To Kris' surprise she'd also fitted herself with a sort of harness, riding low on her hips. A large pink dildo mounted on the harness, over her mound, bobbed lasciviously as she strutted in front of Kris. "My turn," she said, "but first, a little warm up exercise." She placed one finger under Kris' chin and lifted her head up, then let it slip loose. Her finger continued, tracing the profile of Kris' face, then down the back of her head and down her spine. She gave Kris a light slap on each butt cheek. Then she started in with the flogger. Lightly at first, swinging left and right. Kris was surprised at the sensual feel of the leather strips gliding across her buttocks. But then Muffy started swinging faster, harder. The straps started to sting. To add to her discomfort Buffy had picked up the small leather slapper and was randomly punishing Kris' breasts and nipples. Muffy increased the speed and the force of her delivery again. The flogger was really starting to hurt now. bringing tears to Kris' eyes. Buffy had replaced the slapper with a bamboo skewer. She held the bottom third in her fist and pulled the tip back with her other hand and then let it snap against Kris' nipples. It delivered a nasty, sharp little bite. Muffy and Buffy Then Muffy changed her attack. She started swinging the flogger up between Kris' legs and raking the tails across her pussy. The touch was again light and sensual, as it had been when she started on Kris' rump, which made Kris afraid that it was just the beginning of much worse. But after a half dozen strokes she felt a hand stroking her pussy, then fingers probing her, entering her. The hand withdrew. A moment later she felt the plastic head of Muffy's dildo sliding back and forth within her slit. It found the entrance and started to work its way in. When the head of the plastic cock was well started Muffy gave a hard thrust of her hips and forced its full length inside, which made Kris scream, from surprise as much as pain. Buffy laughed and Muffy began pumping away vigorously. "Want a hand there, Muff?" Buffy asked. "Yes," Muffy said. Her voice had taken on a breathy quality, as if she was trying to speak while also trying to catch her breath. "Play with my tits." "You got it, sis." Buffy got up and walked out of Kris' field of view. Moments later Kris heard Muffy sigh lightly, something that sounded like a long, drawn out "yeaaaahhh." She stroked faster now, but shallower. Then, after a few convulsive, jerky thrusts she cried out and then the dildo nearly stopped, moving only slightly as Muffy caught her breath. Then it was slowly withdrawn. Buffy slapped Kris on the butt, lightly. "Hey, Kris," he said with a laugh. "I want you to meet my brother, Muffy." She laughed again, then started undoing the ropes around Kris' breasts. They hurt badly. Kris hadn't realized how much and how hard she'd been pulling against her bonds. The door opened. Eric came in followed by two women, both older and both bearing the collar tattoo, but with the red and green "alumni" marks. "You girls about finished here?" Eric asked. "The room's needed in a half hour and we have some set up to do." "Yep," Buffy said as she finished removing Kris' bonds. She helped her off the chair. "I think our slave's had about enough for today." "Great," Eric said. "I'll take Kris off your hands then." He unhooked a collar and leash from his belt and fastened the collar around Kris' neck. "Come along Kris. I think we'll make a quick stop at the infirmary and then get you back to your quarters." He led her out the door. Behind her she heard Muffy and Buffy. "See you later, Kris," they both called after her.