0 comments/ 12296 views/ 0 favorites Kayla Ch. 01 By: rachelbagel067 Ch. 1--Realization It has been three brief months since I have left sunny California for Houston, TX, and all it seems to be doing is raining. My new friends say it isn't always like this, but they aren't lying to me. They don't think it will let up soon. It apparently has been raining all summer. I am so homesick, I could puke. I miss the ocean. I miss the blue sky that never seemed to end. I miss the sun. My tan is beginning to fade. I gave up on staying outside after two weeks of constant rain and became a bit attached to my new computer. Once, I even missed work because I was enjoying myself too much although mostly, I remind myself that if I don't work, I cannot stay in my apartment or keep the computer. I miss my baby brother too. One thing I don't miss is my parents. They always told me what not to do. Too many chains for me. And I lived there until I was nearly twenty. Despite the rain, my new freedom is rather nice. Sighing, I pull my light brown hair back in a low ponytail that barely drops below my ears. My hair is really soft, but I don't keep it that long. Long hair bugs me. I cannot have it shoulder-length without itching to cut it as soon as possible. Turning my blue eyes to my ceiling, I lift my ankles to the desk and lean back in my black chair a bit. Nobody is online, and I have to go in a minute anyway. One of my teachers and I are going to hang out. She's cool, but I really don't think she is that pretty. Not that I would tell her that. Maybe I don't like her as much as I think I do because when you really like someone, even as a good buddy, they look better to you than if you don't give a shit. Noticing one of my shoelaces is untied, I bend at the waist a bit and reach over to tie it, keeping my legs stiff and straight. Jerking the faded white lace into a bow, I tie until it is double-knotted. Then I stand up and amble out of my room, glancing back one last time to make sure I really put my damn away message up. Tossing my head in a perky horse-like manner, I angle my head so that I can see where I am going. As I pass my kitchen table, I grab the keys and continue on my way without stopping, except to pivot and lock the door. Then I race down the apartment steps leading to the solid ground, leaning my head down slightly. The second I step off the last concrete step, my head goes back, and a tiny smile curves on my lips. My lips are rather thin, but people say I have a pretty smile nevertheless. Rather sweet and innocent. I don't agree, but I guess it might be true. It used to be that whenever I smiled, old ladies would grab my cheeks and squeal, "You're so fuckin' cute! Aww!" Luckily, since I've moved, nobody has tried that on me. I can only hope I look like an adult. I hated looking young more than anything. My feet move at an average pace on the sidewalk as I head for the parking lot. I spot a tall, lean man with a hat, leather jacket, and slight forward stoop sauntering quickly past me, not even giving me a sideways glance. "Damn, he's cute," I think as the corners of my mouth go up a bit higher for a flicker of a second. Sighing, I force myself to avoid looking back at the guy. As the sidewalk curves, touching the parking lot, I look for my tiny light blue car. It is waiting for me in the spot I left it last night after going to a "corner store" as the elderly woman called it, to gamble a bit, smack in between a red truck and a black sport car. I wonder for the tenth time how Richie keeps his car from being stolen. Slipping in between the red truck and my plain vanilla baby, I hold my car keys between my thumb and forefinger. I can only open the door a crack because it is so close to the red truck. I back out as carefully as possible. I have quickly learned how crazy apartment people are. Whether they are freakishly paranoid or simply thirsty for money, I have no idea, but the slightest dent causes them to yell and scream at me until I have given them the two thousand dollars they think they need because I "disgraced" their stupid car even though they're the ones parking so close to each other. My stepdad had to give it to me, and it was not easy for me to ask him. I have a lot of pride. Luckily, I make it out without scratching any cars and am soon weaving my way through the 1960 traffic. I am not really paying much attention to anything but the streets, so when I notice the trees of the park, I am rather surprised at how fast time seemed to fly. She is standing there near a bench. I can see her from the parking lot. I get out of my car and trot to her, enveloping her in a quick, friendly hug. Her acorn brown hair is long and pretty, but her face is plain. To me anyway. Sometimes, I am bad at telling how pretty a woman really is. Hut I usually know that my friends are pretty. Ms. Johnson's eyes are green and lashes aren't that long. Like most people, she is taller than me, and despite the rainy weather Houston is hitting, her skin looks like a dark peach color. I have never seen her in jeans before today, but I hardly notice what she is wearing. I guess the dumpy grey shirt is throwing me off. Her smile is wide, but I don't see anything special about it. "What's up?" she asks. Turning my face up to the sky, I reply, "Um, it looks like it is going to rain again." "If it does, we'll go in the parking lot. To one of our cars." Her voice is soft, but the accent I cannot place. Not Texan, is it? Perhaps. I really haven't quite been able to tell a Texas accent yes by the many different voices. Once, two Minnesotan teachers taught at my school, and they did sound alike, but Texans are much more complicated. Especially since I expected a southern accent. None of the Houstonians I've met so far sound southern. "Okay." Reluctantly, I sit on the soggy bench. My sneakers are worn out from all the mud and washing I have been giving them lately. I am beginning to wonder why I even bother trying to keep them clean because I am fighting a losing battle. "So, what's up, Kayla?" I sigh and trace a circle on the table with my fingertip. "It's just...things have been happening lately. You know, I've never been to a real school before now. Just homeschool. My mother said she was protecting me from the world. And..." I blow out a breath, "I don't know, I guess I'm kinda mad at her. I feel like a major idiot in this world." "You'll do okay," she reassures me, touching my hand gently. "It's not about that," I inform her, liftin my gaze to meet hers but tilting my head slightly. "It's just...I just feel so dumb, and I really don't know if I'll ever feel smart. I had no idea half these things were going on. Sure, I've read a lot, but the books hide many things." The first drop of rain falls, landing on my head. I glance up and sigh. "Ms. Johnson, it's raining." We rush to the safety of her light green minivan and begin talking some more about the things going on in my life and how silly I feel and reluctant to go anywhere. Like my other professors, Ms. Johnson encourages me to make new friends, but the only other girl that I feel doesn't mock me for my idiocy. I don't know why I care so much, but I do. She keeps insisting they aren't all Cruella De-Vils, but somehow, I just can't believe her, not after what Vanessa and Drilla's soroties did to me. She puts her arm around me, and I shut my eyes, placing my arm on her shoulder. "I don't wanna talk about it any more," I mutter tiredly. "Let's talk about something else." For about forty-five minutes, we talk about college and how I am liking UH. I really enjoy our talk. A part of me wishes I had friends my own age so I could have these nice, long chats more than just occasionally, but I suppose I wouldn't enjoy them as much if I did. The rain begins letting up, and both of us first notice because the pitter-pattering begins to slacken. Still deep in conversation, I ignore it. Looking at my watch a few minutes later, I gasp, "Crap, I'm going to be late for work! Damn, damn, damn!" "Hey, it's okay, you'll make it. You can speed in Texas, so long you watch out for cops. Heck, most Texas drivers have a radar for them." "Well, I don't! And I'll be even later if I get pulled over! Look, I'll see you later! Bye!" I hug her fast and hard before running to my car at top speed. When I start my car, an odd thing happens. I see Ms. Johnson come up to me and kiss me on the lips. The weirdest thing about it is the fact that I really don't think she is pretty. "Oh my god," I think as I suddenly remember what I recently learned online. About three weeks ago. Girls can be bi. Something else comes to mind. Flooded memories that I dismissed as nothing before because I had no idea that girls can like girls like that. "Damn parents!" I think angrily and may have even uttered through gritted teeth. Because of them, I thought the images of kissing girls had no meaning. I did not know they were trying to tell me that I am...bi. I used to think I was the dullest, most boring girl on earth. "I don't care what happens," I decide as the sweet memory of Ms. Johnson's lips on mine, the daydream that changed my life...forever, lingers. "I will not lie." Kayla Ch. 01 I know it was the worst day of my life. But, in retrospect, I know it also was the best day of my life. I rang Kayla's doorbell at 1:20. I was ten minutes early. We were going to catch a 2:00 PM movie. She still lived at her parents' house, with her little sister Angela. When Kayla answered the door, I could tell she wasn't ready to go. She was wearing a sweat-stained white strappy T-shirt and red short shorts, white socks and tennis shoes. Her hair was in a ponytail. She had never looked sexier to me. "Hi," I said. "Hi," she said. "Come on in. Come with me." She led me to her bedroom- somewhere I had never been. We had been dating for a couple months, but she had always put the brakes on sexually. We did some light petting. But she wasn't anxious to let me get too close to her. Why should she be? She was definitely a goddess. I had no idea why she even spoke to me. She was always polite. Always fun. But I couldn't help but feel there was some secret about Kayla. It was her choice to keep me in the dark. When we got into her bedroom she closed the door behind me. She said "I just got home from my kick boxing lesson. He made us practice outside, where it was over 100 degrees. I've never sweat so much in my life. I want to be licked clean. Are you up for it?" I was stunned. She said something I couldn't believe. This girl had been so demure, so distant, so cold. All of a sudden she wanted something intimate. "Sure," is all I could muster. She peeled off her shirt, her shorts and her soaked panties, revealing an absolutely gorgeous box. She was shaved, but a small line of hair rose above her slit to a wider patch above. She sat on the edge of the bed and said "Take off my socks and shoes for me." I fell to my knees and untied her shoes and peeled off her sticky socks. When I had done this I put my lips to her pussy. "Wait," she yelled. I need under my arms licked first. They're the worst." I moved up to where my head could reach her shoulders. She lifted up her left arm and I moved under it so my tongue could cover her underarm. I licked – long slow strokes, trying to clean her like a cat would lick itself clean. After a while she put that arm down and lifted the other one. I repeated the process. Soon she put her hand on my head and pushed it down, while, at the same time, opening her legs. She pushed and pulled my face into position to lick her pussy. I kissed her first. She said "Don't be an idiot. We're not making love, just lick me." I obeyed. She was smelly. The poor thing must have really sweated a lot. After licking for what seemed hours, I took her clit into my mouth and sucked gently. She didn't object. So I continued. She eventually wrapped her legs around my shoulders and kicked me in the back-. amazingly hard. She really hurt me. And she continued to kick – about a half dozen times. But I couldn't stop sucking her clit. Didn't want to stop – no matter how much her kicks hurt. I was sure I would have bruises on my back. "Are you hard yet?", she asked. A really amazing and cold question I thought. "Of course you are," she concluded. "Get undressed," was her command. Unthinkingly, I took off my knit pullover shirt, and unbuckled my pants. When my pants fell to the ground and a huge smile appeared on her face, I suddenly remembered a terrible thing. Like on our other dates where I knew we weren't going to get naked, I had worn frilly, sexy, very feminine panties. "What are those?!", she asked loudly and coyly. "Are those panties. How cute!" My face turned many shades of bright red. I tried to stammer out an explanation. But, in the end, there really wasn't a good one. "I knew you were a femmie little faggot. You kiss like a girl," said Kayla, giggling. "So do you wear makeup and bras and heels, too, faggot?", she asked. I told her I adored her and just wanted to be more like her. And that, yes, at times I wore more feminine things. But I was not a faggot or queer. "Well, at least you're a little interesting," was all she said. "Now pull those pretty panties down to just above your knees and stand up straight." I obeyed her. I would have done anything she said. And was about to. "Your cock isn't standing up tall enough by itself. Hold it up flat against your stomach," she ordered. "Oh, and spread your legs slightly." I did what she commanded. She stood up, with a glint in her eye. From about five feet away from me, she took a little running hop and blasted the heel of her right foot into my balls, right below my cock. A direct hit that squished me and knocked me on my ass onto the floor. I have never felt such excruciating pain. I was sure she had ruptured my balls. She was laughing like I had never seen her laugh before. "Did that hurt, faggot? That's a move we were practicing. today. But we were using dummies and we weren't allowed to aim for the balls. I thought that was silly, don't you, Darling?" I could not speak. All I could do was groan and moan and roll on the floor. I was sure I'd never recover. She just stood there, naked, watching me suffer. She didn't say a word. Finally she put on my shirt – pulled it over her head. It covered most of her. Then she said "Are you going to be my good girl, or am I going to have to hurt you again?". "I'm going to be your good girl. Please, please don't hurt me again, Kayla." She said, "From now on you will call me Mistress Kayla. Never again call me Kayla. Do you understand, pussyboy?" I said, "Yes, I understand, Mistress Kayla." She walked to the door and opened it. She yelled "Your fluffgirl is ready for you, Honey. Come on in and see what he was wearing today." In walked a young man who was about Kayla's age. He must have been 6'5" tall and weighed about 210 pounds. He was handsome, blonde. Looked like a jock of some sort. Not the type of guy I thought Kayla would go for. "This is Dave, pussyboy," she said, pointing to the hunk. "He's one of the guys I've been fucking while you've been jerking off, thinking about me. Davey, look what the little girl was wearing for us today." "Panties? You wear panties, Dude?", asked Dave. "Well, I....", I couldn't really finish the sentence. "He says he's not a faggot, but he wears panties and bras and makeup and stuff," said Kayla. "I think that makes him queer, don't you, Honey?". Dave looked at me like I was a worm. "You probably would LOVE to suck Dave's cock, wouldn't you, Honey," she said to me. "No, Mistress Kayla. Not really. I've never done that before." "You're going to get Davey hard for me, so he can fuck me like I like him to. You're not going to get to swallow, but you're going to get to prime his pump," Kayla told me. "Get up on your knees." "I can't believe you could get this dude to do this, Kay," said Dave. "I told you I could, didn't I? I can get him to do anything I say," Kayla gloated. "Isn't that right, pussyboy? You'd do anything I tell you to do, wouldn't you?" "Yes, Mistress Kayla. I would. I don't know why, but I would," I stammered. "C'mon, Baby", Kayla said to Dave. "Whip it out so he can suck it hard for me." Dave unzipped his pants, pulled them down to the ground. He was wearing no underwear. His cock was very white, very long and thick and halfway between flaccid and hard. Kayla looked right into my eyes and said, "Make it really big for me, Babygirl." I crawled over to where my mouth would be level with Dave's rod. I kissed the side of it, tentatively, then started to use my tongue a little. Licking the sides, and, eventually the underside and his balls, he started to perk up a little. Eventually it was hard enough so I could kiss the end and tease it with my tongue. Kayla loved watching this, I could tell. It made me happy that she was so happy. Dave was starting to make a few small noises that were not decipherable. But he was beginning to rock his hips back and forth a little. My wet mouth was receiving his cockhead whenever he would push it between my lips. He would pull out, then push in again. I began to suck it when I had it in my mouth. If someone asked me if I liked it, I would adamantly have said "no". But the truth was that I did enjoy it. I've always wanted to suck cock. And now I was getting my chance. "He's pretty good, Baby," Dave said to Kayla. "I can see that. Either he's had lots of practice or he's a natural-born cocksucker. Which is it, little girl?", Kayla said to me. I tried to say "I guess I'm a natural, Mistress Kayla." But Dave's swelled cock was pushing down my throat just as I was speaking. All that came out was the "Mistress Kayla" part. "I told you he'd suck cock for me. He worships me. Is totally my slave," boasted Kayla. "I can see that," said Dave. Kayla now commanded, "Now suck him like you want him to cum in your mouth, Honey. He won't. He's saving it all for me. But get him to the point he's ready to explode, then he'll pull out and put it into me, won't you Davey?" "Yes, Baby," Davey said. It was getting harder and harder for him to form a sentence, I could tell. The boy was full of cum and about ready to go off. He was rocking it in and out of my mouth. I was slurping up and down on his thick shaft. I was sort of in a daze. All of a sudden, I felt this movement up his shaft, like a tidal wave. He just got it out of my mouth when a huge explosion took place on my lips, on my nose and all over my eyes and face. Enormous gobs of hot cum were dripping down my chin, rolling down over my lips. "Oops," Kayla giggled. "Guess you're just too much of a woman for him," she laughed out loud.. "Now don't leave him so messy, swallow what you've got in your mouth, then lick Dave clean and dry." Before I could obey, Kayla brought a hand mirror over from her dresser and held it up to my eyes. "Do you think this is the face of a faggot?", she asked me insistently. "You've got cum down your throat and all over your face." "Yes, Mistress Kayla," I said. "It is". "Then never ever tell me you're not a queer. Do you understand, asshole?", said the mistress. "Yes, Mistress Kayla. I am a faggot whore. I'm a faggot whore whenever you tell me to be," I admitted. "No!", Kayla shouted. "Not just when I tell you to, but all the time. Even when you're not with me. You want to be a faggot whore every minute you're awake, don't you? You are craving to eat cum and get yourself fucked in the ass, aren't you, pretty slut?. You're going to cruise the gay bars and pick guys up who will feed you cum and fuck your hot ass, aren't you, faggot whore?". "Yes, Mistress Kayla. You know me so well." Kayla was very pleased, I could tell. So I was very pleased. Even though I had been degraded beyond belief, I had made Kayla truly happy. Something I could never have done as her date. TO BE CONTINUED Kayla Ch. 01 For my first six months in the gym, a girl I saw working out was one I assumed I should avoid. She was always alone, some earbuds plugged into her head and doing a lightweight machine press. She definitely had some black in her genes, maybe a quarter or half. At her early to mid twenties, she was fit, but not the kind of fit where you can see her ribs nor was she a muscled androgyne. Her exposed belly looked toned and her sports bra struggled to hide a heavy pair of teats. I say teats because if the imprint of her engorged nipples said anything, it was that she could nurse lucky child some day. She never said anything to me or smiled or even looked in my direction. I don't blame her I suppose, I came into the gym a scrawny guy and I wasn't really cleared of that description now either. I was just an accomplished STEM major who figured I should round off my smarts with a fit body. But I think I was almost nuking my progress with how much I stared at girls. Especially the ones who almost seemed like they were begging for attention. Like the brown bunny I had here. Today I was celebrating my first article in an actual academic journal, an accomplishment worthy of local news. It turned into laziness in the gym that night. I'd been absent mindedly sneaking peaks at her doing her bodyweight squats and couldn't help but admire the ludicrous orbs of fat she packed into her gray leggings. Tonight I was doing these halfassed tricep extensions at a machine while I looked at her descend her ass in another squat. It seemed to get larger the deeper into them she went. The pathetic fabric spread at the seams and if I was just a little bit closer I could have seen her mulatto cheeks. She pushed her ass up out of the hole with little effort and then I realized she had her eyes on mine via the mirror she was using. Shit. I quickly turned back to my reps. I felt horrible. There are stories you see on the internet about perverts like me. I turned and was leaving the machine when I heard her footsteps behind me. "Hey," she said for the first time. This was it. Now it was time to be the next creeper blog post. I turned around. "Hello." "Could you spot me?" she said. I thought stupidly for a second. I had never been this close to her and now I got a good look at her strange features. Her african features blended with her anglo ones perfectly. Her lips were pink and voluptuous, her brown hair was curled and wrapped up with care. Her caramel skin was damp with sweat that poured into her ample bosom. Fuck, I was supposed to be answering her. "Okay". She smiled all white and and turned around to walk to the squat rack, one ass cheek heaving up while the other went down. She already had the olympic barbell on her shoulders by the time I got there and for a long moment I paused, unsure of how to handle spotting a girl. I had spotted my friend at the gym before and him me, but reaching your arms around a stranger didn't sound easy. "Come on," she said. "I don't bite." I walked up to her and hovered my arms around her. Not one part of us touched. She smirked and lifted the barbell out of the iron teeth and backed into me. Her ass hit me first. My penis was enveloped in a sudden warmth and twitched assertively. "Hold on to me now," she said in a motherly tone. I put hands around her bare belly, above the button. "A little higher. Little more." My forearms were now up against the alcove of her underbust. I felt the weight of whatever the sports bra couldn't hold. Now she began to squat. My penis was fully erect in my shorts now. It was pointing somewhat up towards the ceiling, the underside and glans rubbed against her firm rear. I hoped to hell she didn't notice. This may be the one time I was glad I wasn't crazily endowed. As we pushed out of the hole, she puffed out a grunt. And then we went down again, and she grunted again. But after a few reps, I noticed something eerily submissive about her grunts. As my dick was carefully massaged by her ass, I realized that the noises she was making had more in common with sex than lifting. Her face looked like she was having her inner walls pushed in by a thick cock. Which sometimes looks the same as it does when working out, but how could I tell? "Ooh," she said. I looked at her in the mirror in slight confusion and she quickly composed herself and went back to grunting like a normal weightlifter does. When her set was over she racked the weight and sighed. "Do I look good now?" "Uh, yeah. Definitely." She was grinning. "You know you don't need to be embarassed, right?" I looked away. She laughed. Soon it was time for her last set. It was the same routine, except this time my dick somehow found its way in between her ass cheeks. Like a hot dog separated by proxies of polyester. I was going to move my dick out of there when she clenched her ass and seized my shaft. Then she loosened up and moved her vice further up my dick to where I would most enjoy it and tensed again. She repeated this while furtively disguising her pleasure as exhaustion. "Oh, God," I whispered finally. She playfully hushed me. A gym employee was near us now, racking abandoned weights onto their machines. Closing time. When her set was over she looked back and said "thanks". Like this was all some inside joke. I had been brought to the brink of orgasm and my pants were tented hopelessly. "No problem..." I said as I backed away. I turned and made my way to the gym shower. I took off my clothes and turned on the hot water. I put my hands on the ceramic wall and just let the water roll over my back. I was studying my erect dick like this when I heard the curtain slide behind me. I turned around. It was her standing there, naked. Her DD cups were hanging full and proud and her black nipples looked like diamond cutters. She had a smug expression on her face. "You had a hard workout," she purred. "Let me take care of that." I was saying "Hey, wait a moment" when she came on me with the confidence of a demon. Stepping in the falling water with me, she wrapped a thick leg around mine and reached down and effortlessly helped my dick into her oven warm vagina. I was pinned against the cold wall. Her fat ass was jiggling and clapping as she forced her tight canal up and down on me. The squishes and slaps of wet penetration was audible to anyone near the showers. She was moaning like a small animal. I held her shoulders. "Stop. You're going to get us kicked out of here." I think you could see it in my face. The seriousness and fear I had clenched my teeth in was being overwhelmed by carnal bliss. Men were simply not built to resist this. I closed my eyes and surrendered to the pleasure. Her impressive tits were pressed against my chest and held there. I reached behind her to grab two handfuls of ass and pushed myself into her even faster. She responded to my efforts with an even louder moan. This passion went on for a few minutes. She planted a kiss on me with her full lips and stuck her tongue in my mouth without slowing down her thrusting. And then she put her mouth to my ear and whispered something. "What?" "You ever breed with a stranger before?" "Breed? What, are you...?" "Nope," she giggled. I had stopped doing my share of thrusting but she was more than happy to take the wheel again. In my denial I had thought maybe she was on the pill and was having fun, but no. This bitch was crazy and I could feel my baby batter being summoned into my shaft, pending my climax. Her vagina had somehow not lost its grip in all this water. Her entire vulva stretched out as she lifted herself out to my glans. As if there were some glue holding me inside. I wanted to say no. I wanted to say stop, or push her off of me. But I couldn't. I started to go into denial, like maybe after this next thrust, I can take one more. All the while she just pounded into me, comitted to getting my spunk. "You gonna give me a smart baby, aren't you?" she said. I thought nothing of it. And then I realized she somehow saw my academic journal article and in her crazy ass mind picked me for this shit. But I was still procrastinating. All the brains in the world, and I was submitting to mindless hedonism. I had still convinced myself I wasn't at the edge yet when she came. "Just let it go," she cried. She got even tighter, and it hit me like a brick. Her walls tugged even harder on me. I couldn't take it anymore. I made an embarrassingly effeminate whine as my remaining energy seemed to be converted into jizz and unloaded into this naked, smiling stranger. My balls contracted with an "ugh!" from me and expanded, only to contract again. With each spurt, I convulsed. I took a tight hold of her drenched, slippery body. "Yes," she hissed. The girl did her kegels, determined to pull out every single drop of spunk she could get. I sighed and rested my chin on her shoulder, absolutely spent. "You nut like a man. Oh...my name's Kayla. If you were wondering." "I'm Colin, I said as I slid out of her and slid down the bathroom wall. I sat on my ass, the water still falling on me. Kayla turned the tap with a squeak and the shower quit. She went outside the shower and came back with a towel. A line of my seed had run down her leg. "Don't be afraid to ask next time." In between deep breaths I said thanks. She left. By the time I got dressed she was already gone. Kayla Ch. 02 Angela While I was trying to catch my breath, on my knees, a soft knock came to Kayla's bedroom door. Kayla didn't budge. Opening the door and walking in was a voluptuous girl and a dark-skinned boy. They looked to be still in high school, perhaps starting college, but the girl was stunning. She had black hair, pale skin, was exposing a sexily paunchy tummy below her halter top and was wearing cut-off shorts. The boy was Latino, head almost shaven, wearing those baggy shorts that come almost down to his socks. "Is this a good time?" said the young girl. "Perfect, Honey," said Kayla. "This is Bitchboy Fag," she said, pointing to me, still on my knees. "Faggot, this is Angela and Jose. And don't get up." Everyone giggled, thinking that was very funny. "Sis, what's going on here? Anything we can get into?" said Angela. "Yes, I think Davey and I are through with this whore. Are you through with her, Baby," she asked Dave. "More than through," said Dave. "What did you guys do with him?" asked Angela. "He licked the sweat all off of me, then ate me out. He blew Dave. You should have seen how much cum he swallowed. Better him than me!" Kayla concluded. "He's a faggot pussyboy. He was wearing those panties when he thought we were going to the movies!". "Oh My God!" said Jose. "Dude, you're seriously twisted." "Tell them, Baby," Kayla said to me. "Tell these kids what you are. Oh, and these people are superior to you. So you must call them Master Jose and Mistress Angela." "Yes, Mistress Kayla," I stammered. "I'm a faggot whore, Master Jose and Mistress Angela." "We can see that, bitch," commented Jose. Angela giggled. Just then Kayla walked over to Angela and whispered in her ear. "Do you think so?" Angela asked Kayla. "I'm sure of it," said Kayla, smiling. "Ok," said Angela. "Fagboy, come with me," Angela said to me. I started to get up. "No!" yelled Angela. "You will stay on your knees until I tell you to get up." So I crawled behind her through Kayla's doorway and down the hall to Angela's room. I couldn't help but notice Angela's amazing butt. I could only imagine what fun Jose had been having between those broad buns. When we reached her room, Angela closed her door and sat on the edge of her bed. I kneeled in front of her. "I've had a fantasy that I haven't been able to get any boy to fulfill. Kay said you'd do it for me. Is that right?" she asked me. "I don't know, Mistress Angela, what is it?" I asked. Angela couldn't wait to slap my face – hard. "Asshole. That's not the right answer, bitch. What is the right answer?" "Yes, Mistress Angela. I will do whatever pleases you. No matter what it is," I said. I knew better, too. What was I thinking? "You're damned right you will, faggot. Or you'll have to answer to Mistress Kayla. Would you like that?" Angela asked me. "No, Mistress Angela. No thank you, Mistress Angela," I honestly answered. "OK, then. I'm going to pull off my shorts and my panties and you're going to lick my asshole. Aren't you, bitch?" Angela rhetorically asked. "Yes, Mistress Angela. I will,." I said, dumbfounded. It was hard for me to believe a girl so young could be so cruel and so cool about something so blatantly dominating and sexually demeaning. But she was. She really was Kayla's sister. She had learned from the best. Angela didn't get off the bed. She lay across it and slid down her cut-offs, revealing a pink thong that looked to be at least one size too small for her. She peeled that off in a heartbeat and shoved her ass in my face – her butt big, smooth and perfect. She was able to open up her legs slightly to let my tongue inside her crack. She had thought this all out in advance, I could tell. "Go for it," she happily said. Anxious to obey this goddess, I nuzzled my face up in between her ass cheeks until I could get my tongue between them. I edged my way higher and higher until I could tell I was touching the stickiest part of Angela with the tip of my tongue. I wiggled it and ground it deeper up inside her. "You must love that, asslicker. Don't you?" Angela asked me. "Yes, Mistress Angela. It is an honor to lick your asshole," I honestly replied. "Damned straight," Angela said. Her age was showing with her phrasing. But it turned me on to be degraded by such a young, unsophisticated woman. I tasted everything Angela had. I don't have to tell you what that was, I'm sure. She was wet and full of flavor. After a short while she started to moan and gyrate, backing her ass up so my tongue was deeper inside her. She was bucking herself on my tongue and mouth and I could tell her pleasure extended far beyond her asshole. "Kayla told me to call her when she was out with you so she wouldn't have to pay so much attention to you. She pretended to help me with my Spanish homework. Do you remember that?" Angela asked. "Yes, Mistress Angela. I thought she was just very good at Spanish." "She is, but so am I," Angela thought that was very funny and laughed more than you would expect. "She was saying 'this guy is really ugly' in Spanish to me, when you thought she was saying something else," Angela explained. "And she said 'I wonder how long after I leave him will he wait to jerk off'." Angela giggled just like a little girl at that remark. For the next few minutes, Angela didn't say any words. But she made a lot of noise. She moved herself so my tongue was dead-on her clit. She wrapped her legs around me, just like her sister had, and kicked me in the back. It must have been a family maneuver. She landed on top of my face and rubbed my lips raw with her swollen lips and button. She soon screamed "Fuck!" at the top of her lungs. I could feel her liquid run over my mouth and face. It was warm, sticky, delicious. Then she used her right foot to kick me away from her. I landed off the bed, on the floor, on my ass. She smiled, leaning back with her legs slightly apart and her pussy glistening. She was very proud of herself. "Do you like me, Baby?" Angela asked. "Mistress Angela, I love you. I worship you. I'm happier than I've ever been," I admitted. "Aw, you're so sweet," she said to me. "It's too bad Kay thinks you're such dogshit. Otherwise, I might use you again. But I can't be with a guy Kay doesn't have any respect for. Or doesn't think is hot. You understand, don't you, faggot?" Angela asked. "Yes, Mistress. I understand. I'm sorry," I told her. "I'll tell you what – if you can get Jose to fuck you in the ass, I might whip you in front of the group. Would you like that, Honey?" It was as if Kayla was speaking. "Oh, yes, Mistress. I would love that. You know that, Mistress Angela," I told her. "Come with me, bitch. Let's see what Kay and the boys are up to." Angela had me crawl behind her back to Kayla's bedroom. TO BE CONTINUED Kayla Ch. 03 When I finally arrived at Kayla's bedroom (crawling takes longer than walking), the scene I saw was surprising. Dave was sitting in a chair beside the bed. His hands were tied behind him and he had a ball gag shoved into his mouth. Jose was lying on his back on Kayla's bed and Kayla was on top of him, straddling his cock and riding it like it was a bucking bronco. Angela was startled to see this happening. "Jose, what are you doing?" she asked. "Oh My God!" shouted Angela. "I never thought you would cheat on me, Jose. You said you loved me." "I had no choice, Honey." mumbled Jose. "She said if I didn't fuck her, I would never see you again/" A coy grin came over Kayla's face, even though she continued to bob up and down on Jose's cock. "I needed a real man and this meat looked like the only one in the house. You don't really mind, do you, Angela? You can have him back in about five minutes. How did assholeboy behave himself?" Angela waited quite a while before responding. I think she was deciding whether or not to be angry at Kayla and Jose. "He did the job. I wish he had been someone else. But he was OK." she said. "Wasn't he obedient?" asked the Goddess. "Yes, he was totally," Angela replied. "Good," said Kayla. "I have plans for the whore." Kayla stopped talking for a while and her breathing became faster and louder. Her legs and thighs seemed to tighten. She was totally in control. "Ah, ah, agh, agghh, oh, oh, uggggggghh" She let out a final cry as she lurched forward, her hair covering Jose's face. She couldn't wait to turn to Dave and say "See, Baby, if you had an average or bigger cock, that's how you could fuck me. I love it this way." Dave garbled something through his ball gag. Kayla crawled off of Jose, looking more delicious that I've ever seen her look. She was covered with sweat, her eyes were shining. She was grinning and still panting a little. She turned to me and said, "Come here, asshole." Quickly I crawled to her. "Follow me," she ordered. I crawled along behind her as she led me to her parents' bedroom. She closed the door once we were inside. "You like beaner cum, don't you?" she asked rhetorically. "Yes, Mistress Kayla, I do," I responded. "Eat it out of me, bitch," was her command. She lay on the edge of the bed, with her hands behind her, propping her torso up. She opened her legs just far enough for me to get my tongue up inside her glistening cunt. I inserted it, searching for Jose's goo. She was still sweating like a pig. "Don't swallow it yet, Honey," Kayla said. "Show it to me on your tongue first." I obeyed. What else could I do?. Kayla loved telling me it was all right to swallow. "Make sure you get it all. Oh, aren't you going to thank me for the great present I'm giving you?" "Thank you so much, Mistress Kayla, for thinking of me and what I love," I stammered. "I'm too good to you, aren't I," she asked. "Yes, Mistress Kayla. I'm unworthy and yet you continue to do wonderful things for me. I don't understand," I said. Just then Kayla turned away from me, so I could no longer probe her. "I've got plans for you, Sweetie," she said. She knew calling me names like "Sweetie" and "Honey" would keep me with her forever, no matter how cruel she was to me. "I need some money. I know you don't have any. So you and I are going to a gay bar. A very upscale one. There we will meet wealthy queers. And I'll sell you to them. Some will just want you in the boy's room that night. But it's your job to get some to want to take you home for a couple days. That's where the big money is. Do you understand?" Kayla said as a school teacher would say to her dumbest student. "Yes, Ma'am. I think so," I honestly replied. "You make sure you understand, or else, bitch. Aren't you my faggot whore, Baby?" she asked. "Yes, Mistress. I definitely am your faggot whore," I told her. "Do you know how disgusting you are to me?" she suddenly asked me. "The sight of you makes me want to puke. All you can think of is eating cum and getting cock into you. I know that. You never think of how pretty or smart I am any more, do you? I know you loved licking Angela's ass because you could imagine it was Davey's or Jose's. Isn't that right, cocksucker?" All I could do is nod and say "Yes, Mistress Kayla." "You're of no use to a woman. Angie probably will still want you to lick her ass or do shit like that. And you will. But she'll always wish you were a real man doing it – someone else. You heard her, didn't you?" Kayla said. I told her I had heard Mistress Angela say that. Just then I heard Kayla clear her throat. She said "Open your whore mouth – now!" I did as she said. She then spit a wad of mucous into my mouth. It slid down my throat and I swallowed it. Kayla giggled that little giggle I lived to hear. "Just how totally fucking pathetic are you?" was Kayla's response to this little event. "I'm not sure, Mistress Kayla," I said. "Shit," she said, shaking her head back and forth. She then walked out of the room, leaving me there to think and wonder more about that very question. TO BE CONTINUED