Delilah was dressed in some of Mandy’s clothes. The night before, she had snuck home when Earl was still at work and raided Mandy’s closet for outfits—heels, skirts, tops, lingerie. Her daughter had such good taste. Tall heels with blood red bottoms adorned her feet; they had cost Earl two months of paychecks, but Delilah definitely thought they were worth it.
The dress was tiny and orange, made of some awesome clingy material that made her body look totally banging hot. It bared a hefty amount of cleavage, so much so that Delilah was fairly sure she would fall out of it at any time. That’s why she also had on a loose, see-though knitted sweater on top of it.
How would the see-through sweater assist in covering herself if her tits bounced from her dress? These were thoughts for much more serious minds than Delilah.
She gave up on the coffee—all those buttons!—and returned to her desk. The laptop waited patiently in her sitting area, but she wasn’t to sit down yet. The schedule was very exact, and it was so important that Delilah stick by the schedule. Sometimes she simpered over in her tall heels, bending on hands and knees and giving the dark surface a long, soulful lick.
Being near the laptop gave her a great sense of completion. Happiness. Totality.
But she couldn’t just turn it on willy-nilly, oh no. Albert had been very clear on that point. She was only to enjoy it twice per day—once at eleven, and once at four. Both sessions lasted for about an hour. After the second session yesterday, she was so turned on that she didn’t leave the office until well after seven, fingering herself so thoroughly.
She was lucky when Albert had been there to help relieve her of all that silly, unwholesome horniness with his big bad beautiful cock.
Her entire outlook on life had changed. No longer was she worried about what might happen if she didn’t keep her clients. Again, it was silly to think that anything was really “hers” at all. Any benefits gained from having clients would rightly go to Albert. He was her Man and her Man deserved all her money, power, and benefits.
The door dinged. Right away she could smell him—his scent was marked on her at this point. She had slept in a hotel last night so that her “husband,” Earl, wouldn’t get the wrong idea and somehow think he had a right to fuck her anymore. Because he didn’t. Not since her Master had so skillfully shown her that she was too good for him.
She could hear Robyn’s girlish happy giggles; she must have spent the night with Albert. Delilah sighed. That girl was so lucky. Delilah just wished she could be half as lucky—that she could encourage Albert to fuck her with the gusto that Robyn inspired in him.
But Robyn was younger and hotter, besides. It was only right and proper that Albert want to fuck her more. Delilah wholly accepted her place in her Man's hierarchy of sluts.
It took her a moment to get ready enough to go out and meet him. She checked and double-checked her hair and make-up, attending to herself like a senior on prom night. There was no way—no way—she could possibly look under-dressed for Albert.
He was so fucking important to her. He was everything. She had already left her husband for him and had been on the phone the last two days with her lawyer, preparing the divorce.
When she walked to the front, she saw Robyn on her ass, sitting down and shoved up against the bottom of the desk. Albert fucked the young brunette beauty’s face with gusto, his face red from effort.
So, in the less than two minutes she had spent putting the finishing touches on her own beautiful face, Albert had decided that was Robyn really needed was a thorough skullfucking against a hard surface.
And skullfuck her he did. She was pinned completely beneath his weight, her legs splayed out and twisting through his. Heavy streams of precum ran down her face and into her hair, and she moaned, eyes glassy at being used so completely.
Robyn was dressed for the occasion, at least. She wore a tiny pleated skirt and tall knit stockings on her long, youthful legs. Her blouse was white and mostly unbuttoned, revealing a neon pink push-up bra underneath. There was no need for Robyn to do anything except for suck and enjoy as Albert fucked her mouth. His thrusts were furious and pounding, creating a continuous thumping sound as skull struck wood.
“Good...morning,” Albert huffed. “How are you today, Delilah?”
She clasped her hands, feeling a soft happy thrill at hearing him use her name. As if her cunt wasn’t already wet enough from seeing him arrive and using one of his girls so easily, it was now even wetter.
“I’m just wonderful now that you’re here, Sir,” she said. “Is there anything I can do for you today? Anything at all? I’d be so happy to...to assist Robyn...”
“N-no...” Albert shook his head. “She’s almost done.”
True to his word, a few more skillful strokes powering into Robyn’s helpless throat, and he began to cum. Delilah, watching the pleasure shake through him, stumbled and fell forward onto the same desk that he had propped Robyn against. Her fingers went straight to her cunt, pushing up under her dress, and touched herself just briefly.
That was all it took.
Witnessing her Man cum like that, seeing him so totally fucking Robyn, ensured that Delilah was going to cum soon. And so when the tip of her middle finger brushed against her clit, sliding just barely past it down toward her the wet folds of her labia, her body exploded with pleasure.
White lights. Spiral patterns. Neural nets capturing every last thought and devoting her consciousness toward Albert's pleasure. This is what happened when she came now.
When she came down from the high of bliss, she found herself on her knees, licking Robyn’s lovely face and neck clean of Albert’s cum. They had been transported into Delilah’s large office, the two of them sitting on her plush leather couch. Albert sat across from them on Delilah’s expensive business chair—the kind with all the levers and buttons to adjust the seat and protect her back. His feet rested on the glass coffee table, and he idly stroked his still-wet cock as he watched his girls go at it.
“That’s good, girls,” he said. “That’s very good. You’re doing fine.”
“Thank you, Sir,” Delilah said, voice dripping with lust.
Robyn merely giggled, not quite having regained the capacity for speech yet.
“It’s a busy day, today, ladies. Delilah, I’ve got that paperwork all prepared for you to sign.”
Delilah stopped momentarily in her soft licking attentions. “Paperwork?”
“For transferring your business into my ownership. You’ll still be paying the rent here, of course.”
“Of course,” Delilah echoed, not thinking much. She continued to lick, her tongue sliding over Robyn’s lips. Robyn took this as an invitation to start kissing, and Delilah did not deny her. They embraced slow in a sizzling kiss, with Delilah’s hands running up and down Robyn’s body for several minutes.
Finally, the embrace ended. Albert snapped his fingers and Robyn disentangled herself from Delilah and crawled over to Albert, wrapping herself around his leg.
“Go sit with your mom over there, all right, sweetheart?”
“My...mom?” Robyn giggled. “But she’s not my mom. She’s...I mean, Delilah is great, but she’s not my mom. I would never kiss my own Mommy. I mean...right?”
“Yes, Master,” said Delilah. “I must protest your understanding. Robyn is dear to me, but she isn’t my daughter. Mandy is my daughter. I’ve shown you pictures. Remember?”
“Yes,” said Albert. “You have, and I certainly do. And you’ll be introducing to me to her tomorrow.”
Delilah didn’t remember scheduling that, but if Master said it, then it must be so. “Of course, Master. But, as I said, Robyn, lovely girl though she is, isn’t my daughter. It’s just not possible. I’ve never even been pregnant...”
“No,” said Albert. “I’m pretty sure she’s your daughter, and you’re her mother. Look here.”
He spun his laptop around and showed it to the two kneeling girls. Everything faded.
* * * * *
When she mind turned on again, she was locking lips with Robyn. The two of them were grinding their near-naked bodies into each other on the floor of Delilah’s office—no, no, it was Master’s office.
That was such a silly thing to think, to imagine that she had an office. That she had property. Property was for men, just like pretty much everything else in the world, including women.
Anyway, she was kissing Robyn and it was crazy hot and Delilah’s cunt was absolutely on fire from serving. She knew that trading tongues so forcefully and needfully with her young beautiful daughter Robyn was all part of her service to her Master. It made so much sense. Her dress had been shoved up and shoved down, acting now more like a belt around her trim waist.
Delilah knew her place in the world. There was nothing more exciting than that. Nothing more thrilling than knowing exactly why it was you were brought on this earth. She knew everything about herself, from her tip to her toes, and there wasn’t a singular fact or theory or expression that would ever change that.
She was a slave. She was her Master’s property. She was destined to serve him, always, from the moment she was born.
Albert wasn’t just her Man. That was far too base of a title for him. No, he was her Master.
“Master,” she moaned, sliding her lovely, hot mouth up and down his cock. Robyn joined her, sucking at his balls with big, green eyes of helpless obedience. “Master...I love you so much, Master...”
All other journeys she had taken, all other avenues, all the roads and byways and streets that she had walked had led her to this perfect era of service. There would never be anything as sweet or as perfect as that magnificent moment when she knelt down to her Master and pledged her allegiance to him.
She was so lucky that he made her do it for him every morning when he came into the office.
“So...lucky...” she and Robyn moaned, almost in unison.
That was apparently the tipping point for their Master. He pushed Delilah down onto the ground and spread her legs wide, his cock hovering just in front of her bare pussy. Her panties had been silk and lacy, an erotic decoration for her erotic cunt, but they were long gone.
“Yes,” said Delilah. “Please...please get me pregnant. Oh fuck. Oh god, yes, please, Master, please!”
He smiled, stroking her clit playfully. Robyn slid up next to him, finger her cunt and grinding the back of her hand against his hips.
“Now,” said Albert, a little out-of-breath but otherwise none the worse for wear. “Why don’t you tell me about this daughter of yours?”
“You mean Robyn? She's so pretty, Master, and she belongs to you. Oh yes she does...”
He smirked. “No, silly. The other. Mandy.”
Forgoing her cunt for the time being, he climbed up onto her chest, slapping her face for fun and sliding his thick, hard cock between her tits. Precum poured from his cock and he slathered her nipples and cleavage in it, giving his cock a nice runway to work.
Still guiding traffic, he took Robyn's hand and shoved it toward Delilah's cunt. The young brunette got the idea quickly, and soon her fingers were diving into, or she imagined, her mommy's hot pussy.
“Fuck!' Delilah moaned. 'Oh Master, that's so good.”
“Tell me about her,” said Albert, forcefully shoving his cock between Delilah's tits.
“She's pretty, Master,” said Delilah. “Prettier than me. Prettier than Robyn, maybe. Blond. Very blond. Very sexy. I'll—I'll...”
Robyn's fingers were quite distracting. They, combined with the pleasure of feeling her Master's hard cock fucking her body, his thick rod jamming against her chin and jaw, made her body quiver with incumbent orgasm.
“...I'll help you fuck her,” she moaned. “Put her in front of the laptop. Would that be good, Master?”
“Y-yeah. So fucking good...”
He slapped her tits hard, and redoubled his efforts, fucking her even harder than before. Master was losing himself in the moment. Delilah let out a little inward cheer. Her tits were wonderful! They were going to make her Master cum! Robyn seemed to notice his new pace, and adjusted hers accordingly.
“I'll put her on her knees in front of you, Master,” Delilah said. “I'll help you take control. I want you to fuck her. I want you to be her owner. I want you to fucking rule my daughter, Master. I want to enslave my daughter to your cock! Please! Please, oh yes, Please!”
That was all the dirty talk that her Master needed to hear. Shuddering, his piston-like thrusts through her cleavage became sporadic and jerky as his cum spilled out all over her neck, her face, and her breasts.
At the same time, with her Master cumming, Delilah's body knew for certain that it was allowed to cum. As if a dam wall broke, Robyn's fingers finally did their job—and a rollicking orgasm rocked through her body, lifting her and Albert up off the floor as she spasmed and then, slowly, melted back down to the ground.
His seed was warm and sticky and Delilah wasted no time in slurping it down so her Master could enjoy the sight of her loving his cum.
“Thank you, Sir,” she moaned, still coming down from her own orgasm. “Thank you so much.”
* * * * *
Her goddamn stepmother had stolen her goddamn clothes. And her jewelry. And her panties and underwear and lingerie.
What the fuck was wrong with her? Why the fuck would she do all that?
It was weird, is what it was.
No, no—it was sick.
Delilah was clearly sick. She probably needed some kind of help.
But Mandy couldn’t give half of a rat’s ass about the kind of help her stepmother needed. Oh, no. What she really needed was to give Mandy her stuff back before Mandy went destroyed her from head to toe.
First, Mandy was going to get her things back. Then, she was going to find out which of her clothes Delilah had deigned to wear. Then, she was going to burn those clothes, and if Delilah was lucky, she wouldn’t be in the fire when they went up in flames.
That was fair. That seemed more than fair to Mandy.
If she wanted to be fair, she would take a razor blade to Delilah’s face and carve around for a while. That seemed fair.
But Mandy didn’t want to be violent. She wanted what was hers. Violence could wait until later if it really needed to happen. She wasn’t a violent person, not at all, really—but she knew what she deserved and for Delilah to get in the way of that was really flaring up her temper.
And as if none of that was enough, Delilah had the nerve—the nerve!—to have her fucking secretary call Mandy to ask if she wanted to come in for an appointment. Something about discussing the terms of her representation.
The nerve!
Mandy had every intent to shame Delilah as she arrived at the office late in the afternoon. Her stepmother had taken many of her clothes—almost half—but there was still more than enough left to put together an outfit that made her look hot as hell. She wore skintight leather boots that wrapped all the way up past her knees, brown and hot. Her skirt was short and violet. The head-whipping combo of her tight shirt and tighter denim jacket meant guys were checking out the distinct outline of her glass-hard nipples for every step of her walk to her mother’s office.
She didn’t wear a bra. She didn’t need to. Young and hot enough to just have her tits bounce any which way, with the tightness of her shirt supporting them all on its own. It was fun to draw men’s eyes like that. Too bad for them she was a virgin and would stay that way until marriage. She believed in the sanctity of her vagina—and though she wasn’t all that religious, she was religious enough to feel too weird about sex to really want to have much of it.
Mostly, sex appeal was just a way to get what she wanted; woe for the men of the world that a beauty with a body as fine as hers didn’t care one whit about wanting sex.
Mandy caught her reflection as she walked into her stepmother’s office—smiling indulgently.
“Let’s try to see you outdo this, you fucking cow,” she whispered.
Her stepmother was not a cow, but Mandy hardly cared about facts at that point. This was entirely about humiliating Delilah until she got her things back.
Inside the office, a new sign hung above the desk. It used to read “Starlight Agency.” Now it was “NewLife Talent Agency.”
What a weird name for a talent agency, thought Mandy.
A pretty young brunette was behind the desk, her attention fully focused on the screen in front of her. Mandy approached, thinking that she recognized her. There was a nameplate in front of her decorated with hearts, writing out “Robyn” in big bubbly letters.
Wasn’t this her mother’s star client? Delilah had tried to introduce Robyn to Mandy some time ago, but that was during a phase where Mandy had decided that every step her mother took to make friends would send Mandy flying into a crying rage and demanding for ever-more expensive tributes from her father.
She got up to a brand new sports car before she tired of the game.
“Name?” Robyn asked.
“You know who I am,” said Mandy, sneering. “You know exactly who I am.”
“Name?” Robyn asked again.
Her voice was distant, quiet, pleased. She had the same glassy-eyed look that Delilah had sported the other day.
Mandy took a look at Robyn. She was not wearing what might be considered “proper office attire.” Her dress was white, tight, and short; it criss-crossed across her body in long straps, revealing a heavy amount of skin.
And...
And there was a heavy load of cum slathered all over her thighs. As Mandy watched, Robyn took a finger and slowly dragged her digit through the load and then slurped it down.
Mandy, disgusted, backed up. “What the fuck, lady?”
She turned back to the front door, and in the way there was a man there holding a laptop. Delilah was on his arm, squeezing delightedly. Mandy noticed right away that the sparkling orange spandex dress she wore was hers. Delilah looked positively smoking in it, but it was Mandy’s all the same.
Sexcretary (Fertile Pleasures Book 1) Page 3