“You’re...” Hayley shook her head in disbelief, staring at Fiona. “You’re a Homewrecking Hottie!”
“And proud of it,” said Fiona, tossing her hair back. Her milk was already sliding right off it, as if it couldn't bear to mar such beauty. “And, might I add, doing a terrific job.”
“B-but...we wanted a maid...”
“Perhaps you did. But from what I understand, Simon wasn’t entirely sold on that...and then you made Miss Svetlana angry. That was a mistake.” Fiona giggled. “Or, maybe not. You’re completely hot, now.”
Fiona approached her, smiling seductively. Hayley had seen this before—it was how Fiona always convinced Simon to do something he was unsure of. The receipt fell from Hayley's hands, fluttering to the ground.
“But I just...I said...I thought...um...”
It was so hard to focus on anything when Fiona was right there, and so, so very pretty...
“Don’t you enjoy being a maid?”
Hayley whimpered. She did. But...b-but, no! She had to fight!
“You might have Simon fooled, you might have him entranced and hypnotized with your wiles, but you haven’t got me, all right? Do you understand? I-I’m in charge of you. I'm the boss!”
“You are very tiresome,” Fiona purred. She slipped her gentle arms around Hayley’s neck. Hayley didn’t understand what was happening. “Come here.”
She kissed Hayley, long and slow. Fiona's tongue tasted like warm, rich chocolate. The pink cloud was back in Hayley's mind, and stronger than ever. Her pussy felt suddenly soaked.
“Here, love,” she purred. “Have some of your medicine.”
She tugged her bra all the way down. Her tits leaked out hot, aromatic milk. It looked delicious.
Drool slowly dribbled down her chin. Oh god. She wanted to taste another woman’s milk!
“You...no milk. Not...not supposed to have.”
“Don’t be silly, dolly. You're supposed to have whatever I say. It's about time you had a proper taste of me.”
Fiona slid her hand through Hayley’s thick, hot hair, attaching her mouth to the leaking nipple below. Hayley sucked obediently, greedily, taking in the happy thoughts it provided. All struggle gone, all fighting gone. Her mind drifted away to another place. Fiona’s fingers were on her moist cunt, and she couldn’t help but spread her legs and let her in. She was sooo pretty.
“This is much more pure than what you’re used to,” said Fiona. “The inhaler is rather indirect. It takes so much longer. To tell you the truth, I think Simon and I have been enjoying it. We make fun of you constantly. All that fumbling about and trying to get your way. Your wits were rather crude, even before all of this.”
All Hayley could think was that Fiona was like, the most gorgeous woman Hayley had ever seen in her entire life. It was so nice to be talked about by her.
Thumping sounds indicated the massive Simon's arrival. Lips still attached to Fiona's tit, Hayley felt love and adoration for her Man fill her body, her mind, her soul. Her everything. That’s what he was. Everything.
Fiona slipped upward, greeting Simon with a long, loving kiss. They were made for each other. The one so buff and strong, and the other so very feminine and perfect. It was a perfect match. Hayley felt happy just to witness it.
Fiona cast a cold, raised eyebrow back toward Hayley. “Really, love, I think you should stop stringing her along now. I don’t think we can wipe this incident from her mind. We've already used the device on her so many times, and her inhaler’s broken.”
Simon sighed. “Oh, very well. It was just fun, watching her try to be normal still.”
Fiona, very quickly, had removed Simon's workout pants. His entire body was naked now. He was built like a brick house, every portion defined and massive.
Fiona's hand slid up and down Simon’s huge cock, slow, deliberate, getting him hard. Her milk slid down his thick abs, quickly lubricating her strokes, along with his precum.
“Tell me you don’t want her to be your wife? Will you please tell me that, at least?”
“Fuck...Fiona.”
To his credit, Simon looked somewhat regretful.
“You don’t want her as your wife, do you? Truly, you don’t.”
“No,” he said, nodding.
“You don’t want her in this house, do you?”
“N-no.”
Fiona's stroking was harder now, harder and harder. Urgent. Needing to hear his answers. Needing to wreck the home apart.
“She doesn’t deserve this house. She doesn’t deserve you.”
Simon grabbed her, his hands running through Fiona's thick dark hair.
“You’re right, baby. You’re so fucking right.”
He pushed Fiona down to the ground, easily stripping her panties away. He ripped them off with such ferocity that they practically dissolved in the air. Within seconds he was thrusting inside of her eagerly waiting cunt. Hayley watched, moaning happily and fingering her pussy. It was so, so hot to watch her two favorite people fuck!
“Please, sir?” Fiona moaned. “Please, Daddy? Won’t you be my husband? Won’t you be my one and only? The one who fucks me, who owns me, who breaks me in with his massive fucking studcock? Won’t you please, Daddy?”
Simon thrust into her harder, his hands sliding around Fiona's throat. That was how she liked it. She loved being choked while he fucked her. His hands holding her on one end made it that much easier for him to thrust his massive cock into her on the other. Fiona's tits dripped milk constantly, sliding it all around their bodies. Both of them were covered in the milk, fucking in it.
Hayley knelt before them, knowing exactly what to do and say.
“Yes Sir! Please take her as your wife! I don’t deserve you! I don’t deserve you! I want Fiona to be your wife! I want her to turn more fucking sluts into bimbos for you, baby! I want her to give you as many babies as you want! Please, Simon! She's so much better than I am, please?”
Yelling out wildly, Simon unloaded in Fiona's cunt. Fiona clearly came, announcing her orgasm with shuddering breaths, declaring that it was all for him, all for Simon.
Hayley came at the same time, just like she always did when Simon came. Good maids came when their Masters did. That only made sense.
For once, the orgasm seemed to exhaust Simon. Probably, working out just before hand had tired him some. Hayley fell on top of the pile, and Fiona allowed her to drink at her tits even more. Fiona must have really, really liked Hayley to let that happen.
Just a few minutes after they all lay in an exhausted heap, the doorbell rang.
“Hayley, you’re the maid,” said Simon. “Fix yourself up and go answer it.”
“Yes, Master,” said Hayley. “Of course, Master.”
She was so happy to obey. She tugged her lingerie up and wiped the milk off her face, cheerfully skipping downstairs to the cavernous entryway.
The woman at the door, tall and brunette, looked familiar, and it took a moment for it to register for Hayley.
“Hayley...is that you?” asked the woman.
Hayley didn’t understand right away.
“It’s me? It’s your sister...? You bought me a ticket to come here?”
Recognition finally hit Hayley.
“Oh! Kendra! Hi!”
Hayley giggled.
“Hayley? What’s...what’s that smell? What’s happened to you?”
Hayley dragged her inside. “I’ll explain everything. Now, you must have traveled a long way. May I get you a drink? Some milk?”
“Milk?” Kendra inhaled deeply. “Yes, that sounds lovely, actually. Thank you. But then you've got to explain everything. You look...you look like some reject bimbo slut.”
Hayley smiled. Master would be so happy about what this.
* * * * *
There was no traffic around the limo at the intersection. No one was coming. Simon tapped the young man on the shoulder, gesturing for him to keep looking at Hayley in the limo.
“What's your name?”
“D-Darren.”
“All right, Darren. Look at Hayley, there. She's gorgeous, huh?”
“B-beautiful.” Darren sounded awestruck.
“Right! And see, me? I love her. She's great. Cleans, cooks, fucks whenever you want. She even recruited my limo driver, Kendra. The perfect maid, Hayley is. But my wife here, she's sort of programmed not to like her. And, tell you the truth, it sort of turns me on to watch her be so angry at Hayley for just no reason at all.”
Darren looked confused. “Oh.”
“But that's not healthy, right? So...we're selling her.”
“Hayley?”
“Yes. To you.”
“But I...I don't have any cash.”
“How much you have on you?”
Darren checked his wallet.
“Eight dollars.”
“Sold! To the lucky young man in the street.”
He tapped Fiona's head, still happily wrapped around his massive cock. “You hear that, dear? Wish fulfilled.”
Fiona giggled and moaned, her stomach thoroughly full of cum. Hayley watched Darren notice, for the first time, that Fiona was massively pregnant. Triplets, the doctor had said. Hayley was so happy for them. Fiona's ring—sparkling bright with a huge trio of diamonds, accompanied with a number of sapphires and rubies—glittered on her hand, wrapped around the massive base of Simon's cock.
“She's yours now, son,” said Simon. “Go to town. You hear that, Hayley? He owns you now.”
Obediently, Hayley stepped out of the limo and greeted her new Master. Her pussy pulsed with bliss, loving everything about him.
His name was Darren. That was such a perfect name.
The limo skidded away, leaving them alone on the street together. The wind picked up, blowing Hayley's tiny dress upward. He could no doubt tell that she wasn't wearing any panties.
Within moments, Hayley was on the street next to Darren, on her knees. She tugged at his jeans, hand sliding around his hardening cock. His smell was so perfect, so amazing.
“Oh, Master,” Hayley moaned. “I’m so glad you bought me.”
“Fuck,” he said dumbly. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I have a girlfriend. She’s gonna freak.”
A girlfriend? Hayley giggled. Somehow, she knew that would be no problem. Her heavy tits leaked out milk, puddling down to the ground. She scooped some up and slipped it into Darren’s mouth.
At first, he tried to protest. But as soon as it came close, he let her fingers in. He slid down to the ground with her, eagerly sucking at Hayley’s milk-giving tit. She arranged herself so that her hand wrapped around his cock through his pants. It got harder all the time with her milk sliding through his body.
An idea struck Hayley, seeming absolutely brilliant.
“Do you think you could get me pregnant?”
He nodded slowly, staring at her with love in his eyes. It was the happiest moment of her life.
# # #
Maid Made Bare 6: Scoring With The Football Team
Week 16
The Tornados' W-L Record: 12 - 4
The giggling, smiling bimbo cheerfully pirouetted into the middle of the football players who had gathered in the locker room. Her enormous breasts defied gravity, bouncing happily as she presented herself to the breeding studs who looked at her tight, tanned form, eager saliva forming in their mouths. They all wanted their turn with her. They'd fight to take her hot body, even though they knew each of them would get their chance. The beautiful blond bimbo was too eager and too full of sexual energy for any of them to leave the locker room unsatisfied. Even though the bimbo was not naked, she was close enough—wearing a teensy tiny cheerleading outfit that contrasted hotly with her brilliantly shiny skin and her deeply blond, golden hair.
Each and every last one of the football studs was a hulking, musclebound monster of a man. Every last one designed purely for running, jumping, hitting, and smashing. They were made for violence and combat, made to be celebrated by instruments of pure erotic femininity just like her.
Tiffany, the bimbo, was so very happy. They were going to take her over. They were going to do every last dirty, vile, nasty act they wanted to do to her. All the acts that they had ever wanted to do to her, they would do, and she would cheer them on, loving every second of it.
But she wasn’t always so enlightened. Once she was serious, reserved, and callous. Once, she would have been offended at the thought of being taken by so many hunks at once...
* * * * *
Week 5
The Tornados' W-L Record: 0-4
There was no doubt about it, Tiffany simply didn’t want to sit down with Stanford Castle. He was, by and large, rather the last man she wanted to have any sort of extended conversation.
She was seated at his restaurant, The Castle, deep in the middle of the Cherry Ridge suburb, waiting for the immense billionaire to show himself. So far a trio of brilliantly busty waitresses, each one wearing elaborate heels and skimpy outfits, had offered her drinks and food on the house. She had, of course, rejected all of them.
She rather resented their insistence that she try their milk or their ice cream. She resented everything about them: the little frills dancing over their incredibly huge, buoyant breasts, and their effortlessly smooth skin, and the brightness of their vapid, intelligence-drained eyes.
Tiffany was a real woman, thank you very much. She wore her dark hair short, and when she was in public, like now, she dressed like it—with a charcoal gray conservative pantsuit that did nothing to betray her frame beneath, which was perfectly average with an average weight and sported an average 34B cup size, thank you very much.
Tiffany knew very well what Castle was all about. She had no illusions about his desire to do to her all the inexcusably evil things that he did to the other women who crossed his path—like the waitresses here at this restaurant, for example.
But she had no choice, she reflected once more, drinking from the bottled water that she had bought for herself from a grocery store on the opposite side of the city. When she had bought her football team, The Tornados, she had burned bridges with practically every person with money she knew. She had done this purposefully, snatching up the championship team from the greedy paws of several other determined buyers and putting her on their collective shit list.
Of course, she knew that when her team won a championship for the second season in a row, all those idiots would come crawling back and beg to endorse the most successful team for the past twenty years.
But none of it went to plan. The Tornados capitalized on their shocking shut-out Megabowl win over The Wildcats with a loss to start the season, and then another loss, and then another loss, and another, and another. They ended the season—Tiffany's season—at 0-16; the most terrible turnaround in league history.
And everyone blamed Tiffany. Somehow, she had managed to scrape together enough cash for the next season and prevent her boys from jumping ship.
With the first picks in this season’s draft, she had chosen well indeed—picking up a new defense and a solid receiver. On the first down of the first game, however, her new receiver broke his leg. They lost that game, and afterward at a party in a casino, half her new defense were arrested for lighting a room on fire and for several rounds of indecent exposure to a number of hotel employees. They were banned from play—a measure she thought extreme, but the League Regulations Board director was a close friend of several of the men Tiffany had burned to get her team.
Tiffany sighed, taking another drink from her water. When was Castle going to show up, anyway?
As if in response to her question, a long black car drove up to the sidewalk and stopped right in front of where Tiffany’s table was positioned. A huge, hulk of a man stepped out of it, dressed impeccably in a tailored blue suit. Trailing behind him were the needy arms of three different busty, pregnant goddesses, each one more gorgeous than the last. Their long oceans of hair spilled into each other, the hair taking on vibrant hues tha
t made Tiffany, despite herself, feel plain and inferior.
Castle took one goddess under the chin and led her up to his mouth, kissing her deeply. Her enormous breasts crushed against his chest, heaving cheerfully. Her baby bump slid against his torso, one more exquisite curve for the divine chestnut-haired beauty. Slowly, with a show of regret, he pushed her back into the car, where the other two women waiting drew her into their lingerie-clad bodies.
“My apologies,” said Castle, his voice booming. “My wife very much hates goodbyes, even more so since we’ve had so many children. The constant pregnancies make her rather emotional.”
“Yes,” said Tiffany, her voice cool. “Her life seems so very troubled.”
He held out a hand. It was easily the size of Tiffany’s head. She looked at it with an imperiously raised eyebrow, and watched as he put it back down.
“Lovely to see you too, Tiffany.” He smiled, sitting down. “I was wondering when you were going to give me a call. I’ve got all kinds of ideas on how to improve your branding.”
“I’m sure you do. Let me guess—they feature a great many busty women spilling milk all over one another?”
Castle chuckled. “You know what they say. When you’ve got a hammer like mine, everything starts looking like you can nail it.”
“And everyone too, no doubt.”
“Your tongue is just as sharp as ever. It’s a wonder you’re still single at...what is it? Forty two, now?”
Tiffany bristled slightly. Even she was not beyond jabs at her age and station in life, as much as she tried to be. “You know very well what age I am, and you know even better that has nothing to do with why we’re here.”
Castle shrugged. “Very well.”
A busty redheaded waitress approached, a shining, zealous glee in her eyes. Her red hair cascaded down past the incredibly fit buns of her ass, and her uniform was more of a collection of strands of fabric than anything appropriate for public use. Tiffany could see the edges of her nipples on either side of the threads strung tight from her shoulders to her wide hips. Castle nodded minutely, and she slid under the table, almost right away, and began to loudly slurp on his cock.
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