Daddy's

by Helen Goodman

  Before we entered, a woman handed each of us a full black cloth face mask, representing the moon's dark side. I felt myself getting wetter, more disinhibited as I pulled mine on and watched Noelani's young face disappear beneath hers.

  Inside, masked women, their voices whispering and humming with dark lust, sat around the fringes of the grass walls. In the center, next to a single blazing torch, kneeled the nude, curvaceous figure of Mahina.

  Oh yeah. A slave, for use, right in front of an audience. Mahina's back was to me, but she glanced back just for a second and she surely recognized me.

  I smiled openly as I reached into the other pocket of my robe and pulled out my favourite flogger with its polished balsa wood handle and nine leather tails. "Matuatele! Matuatele!" the women screamed. "Please whip her! Whip her hard, for us!"

  I leaned over to Noelani and kissed her masked, mouth to mouth. I opened my robe to show every woman in that room my aroused cunt. I slowly, tenderly ran the leather tails through my pubic hair, over my exposed labia. I was completely ready to give Mahina her fuckin' thank-you for being such a good slave.

  Moving to the center of the room, I rubbed myself with my left hand while brandishing the flogger with my right. "Take this, Mahina," I said in a loud, dark, full voice. "Take this, you fuckin' slave!" With a loud lash, I brought the flogger down on my slave's soft brown ass. Mahina screamed with the shock of pain and pleasure, putting her hands down on the dirt floor to brace herself. Her neatly trimmed pubic hair couldn't conceal the swelling of her ripe, fat pussy lips.

  I began to flog Mahina steadily, raising dark welts on her slave ass. "Mercy, please!" she cried out, but who said I was a goddess of mercy? Instead, I was a goddess of queenly domination, enjoying my complete power. I laughed at her entreaties, knowing how overwhelmingly aroused Mahina was now. The masked women clapped along to each blow and chanted, "Whip her! Whip the slave!" Noelani nestled next to my left leg, getting a great view of the action.

  At last I paused, and tucked away the flogger. I looked down at Noelani. "Do you want to please me?" I asked.

  "Yes, Matuatele!" she responded.

  I waved for a wooden chair to be brought into the center of the room, and motioned for Noelani to sit on it. "Now, it's time for this slave" -- I gestured toward the moaning Mahina -- "to get over your lap so that you can give her a good spanking in front of everyone."

  Noelani's mouth opened wide. I could tell that she was both shocked and aroused. I knew she'd never been sexual with Mahina before. Due to things she'd confessed while we were masturbating each other on the beach the other day, I also knew that she fantasized a lot about Mahina -- and that had only increased since she'd seen Mahina acting as my slave. Most of all, though, I remembered bringing myself off to thoughts of fucking the mother of one of my best friends when I was Noelani's age, and the idea of watching Noelani use Mahina in the House of Punishment got me really fuckin' hot.

  Hesitantly, Noelani sat down. Roughly, I grabbed Mahina by the hair and forced her to lie across Noelani's lap. "Do it, baby," I told Noelani. "Bring your hand down on Mahina's ass. I want to see it."

  Noelani ran her hand with clear, growing desire over Mahina's well-beaten cheeks. But she didn't raise her hand.

  As the Matuatele, I demanded obedience, and I would get it. "You want to make me proud, Noelani?" I demanded. "Then you do the shit I tell you to do. Discipline this slave cunt!"

  At last Noelani complied, to the cheers of the masked onlookers. I love hearing women scream out with excitement, and Mahina's was almost too much for me to take. She tried to wriggle off Noelani's lap, but the younger woman held her in place. "You make me so proud, baby," I exclaimed. "Oh shit, I need to come. Oh God, this feels so fuckin' good." I needed a fuck partner to suck me off now. I reached out to a tall, slender beauty craning her head forward for a better view, and she eagerly crawled forward, removing her mask so she could lick my cunt with complete abandon.

  Noelani's sweet mouth was curled in a cruel sneer now as she relentlessly spanked her best friend's mother's ass. On a whim, I tossed Noelani the flogger. Without hesitation, she told Mahina: "Open your mouth!" She forced the older woman to suck on it. Then Noelani spread Mahina's ass cheeks open and to the amazement and pleasure of everyone watching, she slowly, deliberately inserted that polished balsa wood handle deep into the slave's ass. Oh yeah.

  When I saw that, I started to cream right on the face off the woman who was eating me out. It felt so amazingly good. I kept coming and she kept licking me. The whole room was spinning. I nearly fell, but the arms of beautiful, masked Polynesian women caught me and embraced me. Dimly, I heard Noelani speaking soft, soothing words to Mahina as I lay there, listening to the murmurs of "Matuatele, Matuatele, Matuatele..."

  Half an hour later, I rose, shed my mask, and walked out into the Polynesian night. I could hear moans and screams of pleasure echoing across Vanihaki. Beneath a nearby coconut tree, I saw Ailani, her hair and dress looking rumpled, chatting with one of her girlfriends.

  When she spotted me, she leapt to her feet and ran over to hug me. "There you are, dear Matuatele! You'll never guess where I've been."

  "Do tell," I said with a smile.

  Mischievously, Ailani passed her right hand under my nostrils, and I caught the sweet, musky scent of another woman's pussy. "Remember those things you taught me the first time you took me to your bed? About how I always need to give you the pressure you need, and find that one miraculous spot? Well, I was at the House of Touch. That woman Kamea, the seamstress who made your dress -- she invited me to join her and her new girlfriend...and I was able to teach them something new."

  "I'm very happy for Kamea," I told her, kissing her on the lips. "What a beautiful tribute to the moon goddess. I think we should have a drink to celebrate. Come with me to the House of Revelry."

  Although it was located on the other side of the village, next to a small creek graced by a waterfall, we could hear the whoops and filthy comments coming from this spacious hut, well lit with lanterns shining everywhere. It was completely different from the House of Punishment. A huge bucket, brimming with Tahitian beer, coconut wine, and imported champagne, sat in one corner. Red and gold silk pillows littered the floor, and village women sprawled recklessly across them, kissing one another drunkenly, sucking one another's tits, and reaching up underneath one another's sarongs.

  As I entered with Ailani clinging to my arm, cries of praise went up. "Bring the Matuatele whatever she wants!"

  I took the place of honour in a corner stacked with cushions, tucking my arm around Ailani. It was exciting to watch the orgy getting underway here. I snapped my fingers and ordered a bottle of the best French champagne.

  "I didn't know you drank champagne," observed Ailani innocently.

  I took the full bottle from the server and poured the sweet bubbles over my still-aroused tits, bringing Ailani in close to taste my skin. I then greedily swigged more from the bottle, and kissed some of it right into Ailani's sweet young mouth.

  "You didn't know I drank champagne?" I said. "Oh, Ailani, you have a lot to learn about who I really am."

  Two women in their mid-30's, intoxicated and emboldened, tottered over to us and requested permission, with raised eyebrows, to lie down next to me. I nodded graciously, and they began to caress, kiss and lick my legs. I love being touched, especially by women, and receiving their disinhibited service felt exquisite.

  "I am so grateful to be here, Matuatele," said Ailani, pressing her face against my right breast. "This is even better than...those American TV shows I saw in Papeete!"

  I laughed and took another drink out of the bottle, as the women stroked me and licked the underside of my knees. "I should hope so, Ailani. What kind of fantasies did they fill your head with?"

  "Oh, there was one show...with a girl in Los Angeles...she got rich..."

  "Rich? Doing what?"

  "You know -- she dressed in outfits like the ones you gave me..."

 
"Ohhhh." My cunt clenched, as my arousal began to surge once again. "Is that what you fantasize about?"

  "Sometimes," Ailani confided. "Sometimes I would love to do it for...you know. Money."

  I smiled as an idea came into my head. "Server! Come here again!"

  Half an hour later, Ailani and I strutted across the House of Revelry together, fully outfitted in the nasty, revealing attire that our server had fetched from my hut. The room was heavy with the scent of aroused pussy. Hearing the screams of approval and stunned expressions from the Polynesian women there -- especially the ones in their 50's and 60's who had never left Vahinaki -- got me so fuckin' hot all over again.

  Triumphantly, I wore my favourite pair of black fishnet tights with the crotch completely cut out, paired with fingerless black lace gloves, a bust-emphasizing red corset, and my Italian leather boots. Ailani had perfected the "innocent slut" look I desired, with white boots, knee-high white stockings, and a blue latex mini-dress that left nothing to the imagination. Both of us were heavily made up -- silver eyeshadow, black mascara, red lipstick that made our mouths pout like our swollen cunts.

  Good God, I'd always wanted to corrupt this girl, and now I was going to do it. Fully. Ailani was going to become my little moneymaker. Mahina was a slave and would have no say in the matter.

  "We now celebrate the moon goddess with an episode of sacred prostitution," I announced to the cheering women. "Your Matuatele demands your love, your devotion -- and your cash. Here's how it works. If you want to service this little slut -- or make her pleasure you however you want -- you pay me. If you want to service me, you pay me."

  The women didn't hesitate. From beneath their sarongs, from inside their cloth bags, they pulled out fistfuls of American greenbacks. And as high on champagne and coconut wine as they were, they formed a line to service the Matuatele.

  It was another complete triumph for me. It felt fucking good, right then and there. Not just to feel the cash flooding into my hand, and to feel the hot breath and tongue of yet another Polynesian woman on my wet, engorged pussy lips as I performed a sex act for money for the very first time. But also to see my 19-year-old girlfriend standing alone, teetering on her stiletto heels and gripping her hooker handbag, so fuckin' pretty and so fuckin' rejected, passed over in favour of a real goddess with a body and charisma that draws other women in magnetically, and who always wins in the end. Oh yeah.

  Yet I only savoured that feeling for a moment. For I wanted to see Ailani fulfilling her fantasy too -- and bringing in cash for me. That excited me. I nodded to one of the village council members who was appraising Ailani out of the corner of her eye. It was the voluptuous, outspoken woman's 55th birthday today, and what a way she had chosen to celebrate. Ailani handed me the money, as I moaned with satisfaction, eyes half-closed, and then open wide as I witnessed Ailani, minutes later, sliding her coconut-oiled fingers deep into the councillor's unshaven, thick-lipped cunt...

  I kept coming, over and over, as the women kept kneeling to offer me paid oral worship. They kept on thanking me for the privilege. Could the moon festival become any more decadent? I finished off a bottle of beer, and decided that yes, it could.

  It was the middle of the night, and the festival was nearing its climax. Back in the village square, under the moonlight, with everybody watching, I lay on an enormous bed strewn with white gardenias, thighs spread wide open. I just didn't give a fuck anymore. All I wanted or needed was to come hard, acting primal and nasty like I always want to when I'm fucking in a group.

  I wore a blindfold to increase the sensation of intensity, but I could hear the sighs, screams, and half-sobs of masturbating women all around me. I could feel, through the round hole that had been cut in the bed, Mahina's face and tongue pushing up to rim my asshole slave-style. That made me let out deep groans, but the feeling was even more overwhelming because Ailani was on top of the bed, fisting me at the same time. As the warm night breeze brushed over my naked body, my cunt clamped right the fuck down on Ailani's forearm, pushing hard on my G-spot. And Noelani was right next to her favourite girlfriend, licking and sucking her Matuatele's swollen clit.

  "Fuck me and suck me!" I screamed. "Fuck me and suck me, girls! Fuck me because you need to and want to please me!"

  My body was shaking so fucking hard. I knew I couldn't hold out much longer before I just had to let go. There was one more thing I wanted: I wanted my mouth filled too. I wanted all three of my holes filled up good.

  I tore off my blindfold as I sensed a warm presence next to me. It was Halia -- she smiled as I reached out to touch her, and then she lowered her swollen, pregnant tit right into my mouth...

  That did it. "Oh shit! Oh shit!" I screamed. My legs stiffened, I felt a sudden contraction and my pussy gushed in front of everyone. I squirted on Ailani, spattering her arm, breast and face with my sacred juice. She gasped and pushed up on my G-spot, just as Mahina's slave tongue withdrew from my asshole.

  I ejaculated again, joyfully, into an earthenware bowl that women had rushed forward to hold in place. As hands reached out to caress me, I knew that soon the entire village would be tasting and sharing my juices to bring the festival of the moon goddess to a perfect ending.

  The End.

  Blame the Gas

  It confused Sunny to hear the sound of her alarm clock, waking her in the early-morning darkness. The sun had been up when she'd closed her eyes. She'd watched the shadows it had cast against the wall as . . . someone . . . had moved smoothly in and out of her, their silhouettes merging into a single shape. Their joy had seemed unending, and even as she'd lost consciousness, she'd felt him continuing to move.

  He wasn't atop her now, whoever he was, but she could feel him beside her, his chest against her side. He stirred at the alarm, and something hard poked her leg. Then he drew back--embarrassed, perhaps?

  Very faintly, she thought she smelled lilacs. But the smell was soon gone, and she was still in bed with a man whose face she couldn't remember.

  Something told Sunny not to turn on the lights. Instead, she reached for the remote on the nightstand, turning on the TV by the far wall. A haggard-looking newscaster spoke awkwardly out of the screen. --apparent plan to capture members of the terrorist group Conscience of America backfired yesterday. No government organization has claimed responsibility for the strike, but CoA has explicitly denied the use of chemical weapons, and their anti-gay agenda makes it unlikely that they--

  "Turn it off," the stranger grunted. "Need to sleep."

  --The CoA members had released all hostages from the museum, but had threatened to destroy the paintings inside. The as-yet-unnamed bioweapon, apparently some manner of airborne aphrodisiac, successfully incapacitated the terrorists. It is not yet known why the the bioweapon spread outside the building, but it had noticeable effects for several miles around the area, particularly to the south-- The reporter briefly fell silent. Fuck this. I had sex with Sandra on-air. My career is already--A "technical difficulties" placard cut off anything else he might have said.

  South of the museum, she repeated in her head. She was just a block away.

  "Turn it off," the stranger repeated, and this time, she recognized his voice.

  "James, did we . . ."

  "Turn it off, Sis. Let's sleep some more. When we wake up, we'll have to remember."

  ---- ---- ----

  Sunny had a daily schedule, and she did her best to follow it. Right now, it called for a leisurely jog as the sun rose. It did not call for a humiliating trip to the twenty-four-hour pharmacy to purchase a tablet of Plan B, nor for her to wash it down with coffee while her brother looked on.

  "Good thing they haven't run out yet," James said. "I really, really don't want to think about what might have happened if they had."

  "Fuck this!" Sunny almost shouted. "If--if it hadn't been summer break. If you hadn't been home on vacation . . ."

  "There was no good way this could have gone," James told her. "If it happened in the evening, we mi
ght have had sex with Mom and Dad. If one of us wasn't home, the other would have stumbled out into the street, and probably would have had sex with some drug addict. Even if this was next fall, and you were off at college, too, some of the gas got inside the dorms."

  Sunny had spent years trying and failing to tell people that just because she was a runner didn't mean she was gay. But the dorms were single-sex, and she couldn't help but picture herself buried under a pile of satisfied young women, most of whom would probably brag later about their one and only lesbian encounter. She should have been disgusted. She would have been disgusted, if she didn't smell lilacs in the air.

  "We can't blame ourselves, Sis," James continued. "I've been watching the TV, and they say only children weren't affected." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Dad's office is near the museum, and Mom's shop isn't too much farther. They'll probably never tell us what happened. Let's do the same. We can't forget it, but we can still move past it, right?"

  James. Yes, she did like James. They'd always been a pair. James, the bookworm and Sunny, the athlete. Pudgy James and skinny Sunny. James, who read and learned, and Sunny, who ran and planned.

  Male James and female Sunny. James on top and Sunny on bottom. James, who yelled, and Sunny, who moaned . . .

  Stop heaving, she told her stomach. The pill had cost her sixty dollars, and she had no intention of wasting it. She suspected not even the smell of vomit would cover up the smell of lilacs.

  ---- ---- ----

  "When do you think Mom and Dad will be home?" Sunny asked.

  James sprawled on the couch, his back to her. "I don't know why they're not here now."

  "So they could come at any time. Before they get here, we need to figure out what we are to each other now. James, what do you see when you look at me?"

  This was when he finally got up, and consequently, this was when he realized she was naked again. "I see . . . Uh . . . Could you please put your clothes back on?"