Dream Slave Galleria

Dream Slave Galleria

R.Platz 2008

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Warnings:

This heartwarming family story includes scenes of:

  1. Naughty BDSM sex (M/f, F/f, MF/f, M/ff)

  2. Women with successful careers

  3. Eating women (as main course or tempting side dish)

  4. Couple still happily married after 17 years

  5. Non-consensual snuff (strictly for culinary purposes)

  6. Teenagers

If any of these disgust or offend you, please, read no further.

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Authors notes:

Certain events described in this story may involve practices frowned upon by law enforcement in your area. Please follow the laws and acceptable customs of your locale. Thank you.

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Chapter 1. Dress-up

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Susan wanted the beautiful Vicky Johansson. That babydoll face and hot body caught her eye the first day of school. And Susan Brandt usually got what she wanted. Her rich daddy didn't think twice about spoiling his little Princess. He'd buy her anything, clothes, limo, expensive trips abroad... but he couldn't buy her Vicky.

Vicky was definitely out of place in the expensive private school. Her family wasn't super wealthy like most of the rich kids here. Vicky was flattered when Susan befriended her. But she was a bit naive and had totally missed the subtle hints of seduction.

Susan decided to try a more direct approach. A sleep-over at her house just might be the way into pretty Vicky's pants.

Vicky's mom dropped her off at the Brandt's mansion. After brief introductions the giggling teens were off to Susan's room. It was large, easily twice the size of Vicky's bedroom. It included a four poster bed, big sofa, two walk-in closets...

"Why do you have two closets?"

"One for my clothes and one for my toys." Susan ran to her toy closet. "Take a look!"

Vicky had never seen any toy closet like THIS. There were kinky costumes, whips, paddles, dildos. You name it, it was in that closet. Vicky ran her hand over some of the outfits. "When do you wear THESE?"

Susan had an idea. "Well I'll show you." She pushed her intercom button. "Carla, come to my room."

A few seconds later from the speaker...  "Yes Mistress Susan."

Vicky thought that sounded kind of strange. "Who's Carla?"

"Oh Carla, Carla's our French maid. Well actually she's daddy's French maid but we can use her."

Vicky hadn't figured it out yet. "She's French?"

Susan laughed. "French maid is just what my dad calls his sex-slave."

"Oh." Vicky knew about sex-slaves, she just didn't know the Brandts had one. "So, what does she do?"

Susan giggled. "Anything she's told. Boy aren't you the little innocent!"

Vicky was trying to think of a response when she was stunned by the French maid's entrance. The girl was practically naked! She had the accessories associated with a French maid, lace trimmed hat, collar and cuffs, black fishnet stockings with stiletto heels. But she didn't have a dress, only a lacey apron thing that stopped right above her shaved pussy! She was young and attractive with a nice curvy figure.

Vicky stood there with her mouth open. Susan giggled again. "Carla say hello to Vicky."

Carla did a little curtsy. "Hello Mistress Vicky."

Vicky let out a nervous laugh. "Hello Carla."

Susan smiled. "You've never played with a sex-slave have you?" Vicky didn't need to answer. "That's ok." She reached down and cupped Carla's pussy. "Vicky, meet Carla. She's our sex-toy. Tonight she's going to do her best to please us. Then tomorrow... she's going to feed us!"

"What do you mean?"

"Carla-burgers, ya'know, girlmeat! Dad gets a new slave once a month and he doesn't return the old ones. Sooo... new slave tomorrow, Carla-burgers for lunch! Right Carla?"

The slave squirmed and looked at the floor. "Yes Mistress Susan."

Vicky had tasted girlmeat before. They always had girl-burgers on her dad's birthday. But this was new, talking to a live meatgirl, talking to tomorrow's lunch!

Susan turned back to the toy closet. "What to wear, what to wear... my new riding outfit!" She stripped down fast and started handing stuff to Carla. Then on with the socks, skintight white riding breeches, tall riding boots topped off with a black riding helmet. It was a classic look except for the fact that she was topless and there wasn't a crotch in the breeches.

Susan's pussy caught Vicky's attention. "Susan, you're shaved."

"Well you don't want the slaves gagging on pubs, do you?" Susan started pulling out items for Carla. "Strip... Since I've got my riding outfit on that make you a... PONYGIRL!"

Vicky watched Susan as she dressed her slave. The skin tight breeches looked really good on her. She was taller than Vicky. Her breasts were smaller, pointed with puffy nipples. Vicky thought the riding outfit and shaved pussy made her looked like a model.

Susan was just about finished. She gave her Ponygirl tall lace-up boots, wrist cuffs, leather strap top, two inch wide collar, and a head harness. Susan held up a butt plug horse tail. "Open your mouth." Carla sucked it in. Susan took it out. "Turn around, you know where this goes." With one big push Susan shoved the butt plug in the tight asshole. Carla's outfit was complete.

Vicky was getting really uneasy. This wasn't like any game of "dress-up" she'd played! Susan stroked her chin as she looked her over. "What would look good... I know. You'd look absolutely fabulous in Carla's French maid costume!"

"WHAT COSTUME! She was naked!"

"She wasn't naked Vicky, just a little exposed."

"Yeah right, like you two are exposed now!"

"Oooh Vicky... I thought you'd want to play like grownups. Anyway... nobody will see us... C'mon... It'll be fun." Susan tried fast to think of something to convince her. The game was over if she couldn't get Vicky out of her clothes. "Oh well, that's ok... I just don't have any little kid games. I figured you'd want to do something new, something grownup. Your dad doesn't have a sex-slave does he?"

"No... I just... don't you have something..."

"Something for little kids. Ha Ha."

"Alright... but you better not tell anyone!" Vicky started taking off her clothes. She had a killer body. Her firm C-cup breasts were halfway between round and pointed, accented with nice large nipples. And her ass... most girls would kill to have a beautiful ass like hers.

Susan gathered up the French maid items and handed them to Vicky. Then back to the closet for her black nylon cane. She spotted something else. "Oh! I forgot about this! Carla, we've just got to use this." Susan came out of the closet with the cane in one hand and an 18" black feather butt plug in the other. A lump came to Carla's throat when she saw her mistress holding the cane.

Susan reached behind the Ponygirl and grabbed her butt plug tail. Carla couldn't help but grimace when it was yanked out. Without being told she turned and presented her ass to Susan. In went the new feather tail. "Now that's Kinky! Vicky, what do you think?"

"Definitely kinky!" Vicky had finished dressing. She looked hot! That babydoll face, the fishnet stockings, mmmmm! Susan tapped the ass with her cane and Carla wiggled the new feather tail. Vicky wasn't sure what she was supposed to do. This was Susan's game. She sat down on the sofa and watched.

Susan tried to avoid staring at Vicky. She couldn't do what she wanted to...

She positioned Carla bent over with her hands on the sofa's armrest. Her back was arched presenting a pretty feather tail sticking up in the air. "Carla's going to perform for us tonight." Vicky lightly tapped the ass and Carla wiggled the feather tail... "Since it's Carla's last performance, I think it should be especially enthusiastic." Vicky tapped the ass again, a little harder this time. Carla wiggled the feathers faster, left and right, up and down... "So Carla, are we going to get an enthusiastic performance?"

"Oh yes Mistress Susan..."

whoOSH CRACK! A vicious cane stroke landed squarely across the poor slave's pretty ass. At once Carla squealed, her knees buckled and her ass jerked.

Carla whimpered and pleaded. "Please Mistress Susan let me suck your pussy! I'll do a good job! Please Mistress Susan! I want to taste your pussy!"

Susan giggled. "She sounds enthusiastic to me. What do you think?"

Vicky didn't say a word.  She sat frozen on the sofa. She'd never seen anything like this!

Susan stuck a CD in the player and sat down next to Vicky. She flicked her wrist up and down, swishing the cane thru the air… whish whish... whish whish...

Staring at Carla, she slowly spread her legs.

"Now Carla, ask politely."

Trembling, Carla knelt between Susan's legs, her face just inches away. "Please Mistress Susan; will you let me please you with my mouth?"

Susan answered by grabbing Carla's head harness and yanking her face to her smooth pussy. Then wooOSH CRACK! The cane struck Carla's left ass cheek.  Her muffled shriek followed by wooOSH CRACK! The right cheek was marked.

Carla's response was predictable. She moved her tongue as fast ass he could, her head back and forth, around, up and down. Desperately she tried to please Susan...

The music played, Carla frantically licked and sucked, Susan began moving her hips… Vicky stared spellbound... The three girls were lost in their bizarre little world.

Knock knock... Out in the hall Mr. Brandt tried again, knock knock... "Susan, you have Carla?"  Mr. Brandt knocked again... then opened the door.

Wow! He stood in the doorway, smiling, watching the show... He couldn't help but admire Vicky's quality rack. Of course he'd seen his daughter use the maid before but that twitching bottom... the feather tail stinking out of her ass, beautifully accented with thin red stripes... oooh my!

Susan looked up and smiled. Vicky looked up. SHIT! Immediately she crossed her arms over her chest... What an awkward moment... what should she do next? It was obvious from the bulge in his bathrobe he'd been watching them!

He chuckled as he moved toward the girls. "Come on Susan, I want to use Carla now. You can have her back when I'm done."

Susan whined, "Awwww Dad! Just another five minutes. Pleeeeeez!"

"Hmmm... well... I guess we could share her." Mr. Brandt moved behind the Ponygirl, reached down and popped out the feather tail. He untied his robe revealing a very stiff cock.

Susan giggled and turned the slave's head so she could see her father's erection. "Carla Cocksucker, I think you might want to get that wet. Unless... Vicky, you want to taste my dad's dick? C'mon, it'll be fun!"

Vicky turned beet red. She was staring at the stiff penis. She was curious to know what it felt like. She was aroused looking at it. But things were moving too fast. She remained silent and shook her head.

"Ah, all for you then Carla!" Susan twisted her around. The slave wasted no time getting the dick in her mouth. For her sucking dick was a good thing, a safe thing. Too hard with a cane stroke and you risked being accidentally bitten. As long as she had Mr. Brandt in her mouth she felt somewhat protected.

"Carla, bottom time." Reluctantly she let the cock slide out of her mouth and turned around on her hands and knees. Susan's pussy was waiting for her, then umph! The dick was in Ponygirl ass.

Vicky was wet. She had one hand on her breast, the other between her legs. She couldn't stop watching Mr. Brandt's penis going in and out of the asshole.

Carla licked and sucked on the clit and Susan's expression changed. Her face tensed... concentrating... She could feel her dad's thrusting thru the slave's mouth, umph umph umph. It didn't take long for her to come. Aaaoooohhh... Susan pulled Carla's face hard to her pussy and held it there...

Mr. Brandt fucked the beautiful tight bottom, umph umph umph...

"Dad, you want to finish in her mouth?" Susan flicked the cane and grinned. It was a wicked grin.

Umph umph... "Yeah, that sounds good." He pulled out and traded places with his daughter. Carla didn't hesitate; she sucked the dick into her mouth. She sucked hard. She sucked it deep. Her head bobbed up and down...

Susan stared at the Ponygirl's ass. Very slowly she moved the cane back and forth over the cheeks. Every time the cane crossed a welt the asshole "winked", the bottom twitched...

Mr. Brandt got a firm grip on Carla's ponytail. With a slow deliberate motion he pulled her mouth up off his cock. Her eyes opened wide. She didn't like the way this was going! The instant Carla's mouth wasn't touching dick whoOSH CRACK! She screamed and jerked her ass to the floor. Her head didn't move though. Mr. Brandt's firm grip held her there, his cock almost touching her mouth.

Carla had played this game before. She started reaching with her tongue, making sucking gestures with her lips. Frantic, slurping, panting sounds came from her mouth. She desperately wanted to suck his dick. She needed to look and sound like it.

It was an obscene sight. Vicky rubbed her pussy.

Susan lightly double tapped Carla's ass. "Get it up." The well striped bottom moved back into position. The cane started sliding again, back and forth... back and forth... Carla never stopped her mouth gestures.

Slowly Mr. Brandt started lowering her head. First her tongue, then her lips and tongue, then finally she was sucking dick again. She really sucked. Mr. Brandt started to get into a rhythm. He would pump her head up and down several times then lift her head up. He'd watch her mouth and tongue gesturing, then move her back to sucking. Each time Susan watched for a nod, his signal.

Tonight Carla got him off without getting another stripe. He came, she sucked and swallowed.

Vicky was really excited now. Mr. Brandt looked at her and smiled. Their eyes met briefly then she looked back down at Carla. His dick was still in her mouth. Vicky knew he'd come, she'd watched Carla gulping. She wondered what it tasted like. She kept her hand on her pussy.

Mr. Brandt got up, his cock popped from Carla's sucking mouth. "Well I'll leave you girls to it then." Before he left he looked at his daughter, made a slight nod toward Vicky and winked.

Susan grabbed the poor slave by her head harness. "So Dad, are you finished with Carla?"

"She's all yours Princess." The door closed. The girls were alone again.

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Chapter 2. New Skills

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"Carla, I think you've got some more work to do." Susan positioned the slave on her knees in front of Vicky. "C'mon Vicky, spread your legs. This Ponygirl wants to taste that cute muff of yours!"

"Susan! I'm not a lesbian!"

Susan laughed. "Don't be silly! Using a sex-slave to get off doesn't make you a lesbian. It's like using your vibrator. She's a toy... my Carla Cuntlicker Doll."

Well that sounded logical... Vicky hesitated... she was sooo horny... She closed her eyes... and spread her legs...

Susan put the cane down. She looked Carla in the eye and made a head gesture toward Vicky. "Do her nice."

Carla relaxed a little. Susan didn't have the cane. Vicky seemed like a "normal" girl. She knew how to please a "normal" girl. She placed her tongue on Vicky's inner thigh and started up. By the time she was kissing her pussy lips Vicky was starting to moan.

Susan sat down on the sofa. She slowly... carefully... placed her hand on Vicky's breast. Vicky didn't object, she didn't open her eyes. She was feeling Carla's tongue, playing with her clit... moving between her lips...

Susan leaned over and kissed Vicky's nipple. Again Vicky's eyes stayed closed. She was picturing the slave sucking the penis... the way her mouth moved when her head was held just out of reach... The gulping sound she made as she swallowed the cum...

Carla sucked on Vicky's clit... Susan sucked on Vicky's nipples... Vicky shuddered. UuuOoooohhhhh... Carla stayed put, resting her mouth on Vicky's muff.

Susan stared at the adorable face. She REALLY wanted to kiss her... Vicky smiled, opened her eyes and gently pushed Carla's head back. Susan giggled. "How was it?"

Her face burst into a big grin. "You know!"

Susan jumped up from the sofa. "Let's see what else we've got!" Vicky followed her to the closet and watched as she rummaged through the drawers. "Oh yeah, these are fun! Come here Carla." Susan grabbed her by her collar and held up a ball gag. As soon as the Ponygirl opened her mouth in went the gag and the buckle snapped. "So what do you think?"

Vicky giggled. She was getting into the spirit of things. "I don't know. How's she going to suck cock wearing that?"

"Oh, I Know!" Susan pulled another object from the drawer. "A penis gag!" The gags were swapped. "We've got to try it out." Vicky wasn't sure what she meant, Carla thought she knew. "Carla, go lie ass up on the bed." She did know.

Susan grabbed a handful of ropes and pretended to be a school teacher. "Today class, How to Bind a Naughty Ponygirl, Position 1: Spread-eagle Ass Up." The girls laughed. Carla didn't think it was so funny. A few minutes later Carla was tied to the bed, stretched tight.

The girls sat beside her, looking down at her pretty ass. Susan ran her fingers back and forth across the nasty welts. Vicky watched Carla's bottom squirm and started to feel uncomfortable.

Another trip to the closet and Susan came back with a collection of "toys". She looked for a moment then picked up a large black leather paddle. She swung it as hard as she could. WHAAACK! Carla screamed! Even with the penis gag it seemed loud. Her ass jerked and flexed. Her body shook as she started sobbing.

"What are you doing!?" Vicky felt sorry for the slave. Somehow it was different before. When Carla was eating Susan's pussy or sucking Mr. Brandt it was just different. What was the point of whipping Carla now?

"Punishing our naughty Ponygirl silly!" She reached for a leather strap and wwhhAAP! Another muffled scream and Carla's ass jerked again.

"STOP! This isn't fun anymore."

Susan stopped, a little puzzled. What was Vicky thinking...? She didn't want to whip this helpless girl... hmm... Was it because Carla had licked her pussy, sucked her to orgasm... New plan, Susan got a bottle of hand lotion and tossed it to Vicky. "Here, this'll make her feel better." She headed out of the room. "I'll be back in a minute."

Well this is awkward Vicky thought as she looked down at Carla. Her bottom was bright red, those welts, a nasty mark from the strap... Vicky hesitated, thinking about it... She reached over and unbuckled the gag.

Carla spit it out and took several deep breaths. "Thank you Mistress Vicky, thank you."

"Uh Carla, I've got some lotion... um... You want me to put it on?"

"Oh yes please Mistress Vicky."

Vicky squirted a generous amount of lotion on each cheek. She hesitated... it was so awkward...

"Please Mistress Vicky. It really stings."

"Yeah, ok..." Vicky's hand touched her. Carla's ass clenched. Slowly Vicky moved her hand, rubbing the lotion in, feeling another girl's bottom.

Susan stood in the hall just outside the door, watching. Isn’t that sweet she thought. This could work. She'd wait a little longer.

Vicky squirted more lotion on her hands. She rubbed it in, gently touching the red ass. It wasn't so tense now. Vicky was starting to loosen up. "Is that better Carla?"

"Oh yes Mistress Vicky". Carla had stopped trembling. Her red bottom shined from the lotion. Vicky's hand motions were starting to look more like a massage.

Susan came back in the room smiling. "Doesn't she have a great ass!?"

Surprised, a slightly embarrassed Vicky snapped her hands back. "Uh yeah, I guess so."

Susan started untying the ropes. "I know, let's do something nice for Carla." Vicky was suspicious so didn't answer. The slave was scared again. Susan had never done anything nice for her.

Susan took some time to reposition the slave. She put her near the headboard, half sitting up, her back supported by pillows. Her arms were stretched to each side, tied to the bedposts. Her legs were bent and tied shin to thigh. A rope from each knee went to the bedposts spreading and pulling her legs back almost to the side of her chest.

Carla started to tremble again. She was tied spread apart, her most sensitive area exposed. Her pussy, that would be the target now. And on the bed a collection of whips, she knew Susan loved to play with the whips.

Susan sat on the bed and put a hand on Carla's thigh. "Ya'know, this Ponygirl did such a good job sucking our pussies; we should do the same for her." Vicky didn't answer. "C'mon, tomorrow she's girlmeat. We should give her a good orgasm... to show our appreciation."

"Aw... maybe we could use a vibrator."

"Hmm, that doesn't sound right. An eye for an eye," Susan bent down and gave Carla's pussy one long lick, then straitened up. "and a tongue for a tongue!" Vicky looked confused. Susan shrugged. "Well alright, if we're not going to suck this pussy..."

With one quick motion, Susan picked up a pussy whip and brought it down fast between the Ponygirl's legs! WHAP! Carla shrieked and jerked! She gasped for air like she'd been punched in the stomach. "Please! Please Mistress VICKY!" Carla pleaded to the only one who could help her.

Vicky was shocked! She couldn't imagine being whipped on the pussy. Susan started bringing her arm back... "WAIT!" Vicky was trying to think... she was caught in Susan's trap. "Wait... er... don't whip her... alright...... alright......... but you have to go first."

Susan smiled. "Ooooh Carla, I think someone's got a crush on you!" She started slowly, licking the usual places. It took some time but Carla started to respond. Vicky just watched with a puzzled look on her face. "Play with her boobs." This time Vicky didn't hesitate. Susan was in control. She caressed Carla's breasts. Susan watched as she sucked on the slave pussy. She gave more instructions. "Suck her nipples... lick her neck... kiss her mouth..."

Carla was moaning. She was getting close. Susan slipped two fingers in. "Mmmm, juicy! It's your turn to taste this cuntsteak."

This is it Vicky thought; I'm going to eat pussy. I'm really going to taste another girl's pussy. She had a pretty good idea what to do. She knew what Carla had done to her, when Carla had licked her, sucked her. She'd just do the same right?

Vicky went down. She kissed Carla's smooth mound. She could do this. She did the things Carla had done. She tried to do a good job. Like Susan had said, tomorrow Carla would be girlmeat. Cuntsteak, that's what she'd called it. Vicky was tasting tomorrow’s cuntsteak. Somehow that word excited her. Cuntsteak.

The slave let out a short gasp. The cuntsteak in Vicky's mouth quivered. Not the best orgasm Carla had ever had, but probably her last.

Susan giggled. "Oooooo, girlfriend, you've got the skills!" Vicky laughed and threw a pillow at her. Together they untied Carla and Vicky returned the French maid outfit. Carla was dismissed; her ordeal for tonight was over. A tired slave thanked the girls and left.

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Chapter 3. Let's Eat

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The next day the girls heard a truck pull into the driveway. Susan jumped up. "Our new maid's here!"

Outside Mr. Brandt held Carla by the arm. She was naked and scared. Her hands were secured behind her back with a plastic tie, around her neck hung a green paper tag.

Vicky whispered to Susan. "What's that green tag?"

"Those are the instructions for the butcher. It tells him how daddy wants this meat processed. Since it's green she'll get put to sleep first."

"So what if the tags not green?"

"A red tag?" Susan chuckled as she shook her head. "They don't want that. With a red tag they get butchered alive. That's one of the things that make slaves so cooperative."

"Does your dad ever give them red tags?"

"No, if they haven't been entertaining he just hands them over to my stepmom."

Before Vicky could find out what that meant her attention was drawn back to the driveway. Dream Slave Galleria, that was the sign on the big air-conditioned truck. A tall women in a sexy black uniform emerged from the back. Right behind on leashes came three naked sex-slaves.

The woman did a sexy walk leading her nervous slaves up the drive. They had every right to be nervous. Inside the truck was the butcher and his processing equipment. They could see the customer holding his slave. It wasn't hard to figure out one of them was her replacement and before long they'd be in the same position.

"Hello Mr. Brandt. Here are the slaves you selected." Mr. Brandt had narrowed his choice down to these three from pictures on the DSG website.

"Hi Madelyn." As he took the slave leashes he gently pushed the reluctant Carla forward. "She's all yours." Mr. Brandt began examining the new slaves. He hefted breasts, stretched cunt lips, squeezed asses...

As Mr. Brandt made his inspection Madelyn read Carla's tag. She smiled and placed a hand on the meatgirl's ass. "Mmm, someone must be happy with you." She gave her a slow French kiss. "You'll be getting our "Snuffed with a Smile" treatment!" She continued to lightly caress her as they waited for Mr. Brandt's decision.

"I'll take this one." He handed two of the leashes back.

"Excellent choice Sir." Madelyn took Carla's arm. "Your order should be ready in about an hour." Madelyn headed back to the truck with the meat and two very relieved sex-slaves.

Mr. Brandt handed the leash to Susan. "Please show our new maid around and explain her duties. You know the drill. I'll be in the backyard getting the grill ready for lunch."

"So slave... what's your name?"

"Felicia Miss."

"Call me Mistress Susan, and this is Mistress Vicky. You know you'll be girlmeat in a month, right?"

"Yes Mistress Susan."

"That's good. Ok, obviously daddy bought you for sex. Sex is your only job. Don't let any of the servants pawn off their work on you. The good news is my dad's a softy. If you please him he'll send you off with a green tag. The bad news... my stepmother. You call her Mrs. Brandt." Susan ran her hand over Felicia's breasts. "You've got this lovely complexion...  Mrs. Brandt's got a thing for girlskin, specifically girlskin bras." Susan jiggled Felicia's breast. "She'll definitely want a bra from these."

Felicia didn't react. What did she care? She'd be girlmeat. Who cares what they do with your skin when the rest of you is on the grill or in the freezer.

"The thing is... she likes to watch." Felicia's expression changed. "She likes to watch them get the girlskin... before you're girlmeat." Felicia's heart skipped a beat. "Yeah, she's kind of perverted. Just be sure to please my dad. He'll give you a green tag and then you won't have to entertain my stepmom."

Vicky had never heard of someone getting skinned alive for a bra. Of course she'd heard of girlskin. It was expensive though and her mother didn't approve. "Hey, I've never seen girlskin. Do you think I could see one of those bras?"

"Sure, as soon as I've finished with Felicia."

Vicky tagged along as Susan showed the new slave the house. At one point they passed Mrs. Brandt in the hall. Sure enough she stopped to admire the tits. "Oh these are really lovely." She ran her hands over Felicia's breasts. "Beautiful color... nice texture... I love the areolas. Take good care of these. I don't want to see any damage at the end of the month."

Next stop, Felicia's room and a new French maid outfit. The pretty slave stood in front of the full length mirror. Vicky watched and couldn't help thinking she'd looked hotter in that outfit last night. Not that she wanted to trade places with Mrs. Brandt's future bra!

Susan showed Felicia how to use the intercom then handed her a large notebook. "In here's everything you need to know. Dad will be busy with lunch so you probably won't get your first assfucking till this afternoon. Memorize the book and get ready. Ok Vicky, time to check out Mom's wardrobe!"

In the master bedroom Susan went straight to the drawer where the special bras were kept. She pulled several out and spread them on the top of the dresser. There was an assortment of colors ranging from almost white to dark tan. Similarly there was a variety of areolas, some bigger or smaller, various colors. All had an almost invisible seam where the nipple had been removed. "Damn Susan, how many does your mother HAVE!"

Susan didn't answer. She was amused with Vicky's obvious fascination with the kinky apparel. Vicky picked up a bra. It was so soft... "Do you think I could try it on?"

"Sure, why not."

Vicky removed her top and put on the girlskin bra. It was too small and her ample bosom spilled out over the top. She turned back and forth, admiring herself in the mirror. Kind of strange she thought, her tits, inside another woman's tits. "Wow... so do you think this one was skinned alive?"

"Susan, lunch." The girls were interrupted by Mrs. Brandt's voice from downstairs.

"Hurry, put your top back on. It's Carla-burger time!" The girls both laughed and headed for the backyard.

In the kitchen they were stopped by the cook. "Will one of you please take this plate to Mr. Brandt?" It was grilled girl-burgers for lunch but Mr. Brandt was getting something else. Vicky stared at the plate the cook was holding. The cook smiled; obviously Susan's friend hadn't seen expensive cuts of meat before. "That's Breast Tips with mushrooms, Pussy-Fillet sautéed with garlic."

Vicky carefully accepted the plate. So this was Carla's cuntsteak. She had played with this pussy the night before. "C'mon Vicky!" Susan held open the patio door. She slowly carried the plate outside.

Susan's parents were already seated at the table. At the center were the girl-burgers fresh off the grill. Vicky couldn't stop staring at Mr. Brandt's lunch as she set it down in front of him. It was a very surreal moment. Was she really looking at a plate with a pussy on it? Were those really two slices of breasts?

Mr. Brandt noticed her obvious fascination with his lunch. "Thank you Vicky. Have you ever tasted pussy?"

Vicky blushed.

"Cuntsteak, pussy-fillet?" he quickly added.

"Uh, no Sir."

"Then you've got to try this." Her heart skipped. She watched as he picked up his knife and fork. Time seemed to slow down... The fork went into the juicy cunt lip... She had licked that spot... First one slice... She remembered what Carla smelled like... The second slice and the bite size piece was free, on the fork... She remembered the soft wetness pressing against her mouth... She was getting excited... She watched Mr. Brandt dip the morsel in the lemon butter sauce; he brought it up close to her face. Vicky leaned forward and took the bite of Carla into her mouth.

Vicky looked like she was in a faraway place as she started to chew. So this was cuntsteak. She recognized the lemon flavor, the garlic. But the pussy, that wasn't like anything she'd had before. She swallowed and that was it.

Mr. Brandt couldn't interpret Vicky's expression. "Well, it's an acquired taste." He and his daughter laughed.

The lunch of girl-burgers was great, as good as anything Vicky had ever tasted. Mr. Brandt was friendly to. He and Susan made her feel right at home. Of course both of them wanted her for sex.

On the other hand there was Mrs. Brandt. She was definitely a snob. A gold-digger at 22, she thought she'd landed the big one when she married Mr. Brandt. Now at 27 she didn't have a clue why her step-daughter was spending time with Vicky. It was a little awkward when lunch was over and Mrs. Brandt made a snide remark. Vicky should invite Susan over the next time the Johanssons served cuntsteak.

As soon as they were alone Susan apologized. "Don't let my stepmother get to you. Hell, she didn't have a dime before she married Dad, just a really hot ass. Dad likes arm candy. I guarantee you the third Mrs. Brandt's going to be replaced before long."

"So they'll get divorced?"

"I don't know. I never heard anything about divorce with his second wife. They went out to dinner one night and he came back alone. The next thing I knew he was auditioning wife number three."

The girls spent the next couple of hours swimming and gossiping by the pool. At one point Vicky confided in Susan how much she wanted a boyfriend. Not exactly news Susan wanted to hear; but she wasn't going to give up. She'd seen how easily Vicky had taken to eating pussy. She'd work out a plan to have Vicky all for herself.

On the drive home Vicky couldn't stop talking to her mom. She told her everything; about Susan the maid and Mr. Brandt, her and the maid, the girlskin bras, her bite of cuntsteak at lunch. She was excited and included every detail.

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Chapter 4. Family Night

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For the next few days it seemed Vicky talked of nothing but her experiences at the Brandts and her desire to find a boyfriend. Her mother was a little concerned. They didn't have the fancy house, the sex-slaves, or the regular dinners of girlmeat. Vicky would just have to get over that. No, it was the boyfriend situation that needed addressing. How was her daughter going to land one of these rich boys when they had the use of their parents’ sex-slaves? Vicky did have one thing going for her, she was a knockout. Cute face, great ass, tits to die for, at any other school attracting boys wouldn't be a problem.

Mrs. Johansson thumbed through the weekly circular for the Dream Slave Galleria. Something caught her eye, the advertisement for the DSG Dinner Theater. She'd seen the ad before for a hedonistic evening of slave sex and gourmet dining. The entire event was broadcast on webcams with DVDs sold the following day. What was different this time was the promotion for "Family Night". Mrs. Johansson had an idea. Maybe a little exposure from this type of event could get Vicky some attention from the boys.

Her husband's birthday was coming up. Usually they rented a few sex-slaves and enjoyed girl-burgers on their grill. The price of the Dinner Theater would probably be considerably more expensive. Included in the package was an entire meatgirl, something the Johanssons couldn't afford. Luckily this cost was substantially offset by the income generated from the webcams. Mrs. Johansson was delighted to discover the ticket price wouldn't bust their budget.

Vicky could barely contain her excitement when her mother explained the plan for her father's birthday. She read the Dinner Theater brochure several times cover to cover. It was more than just an advertisement. It contained information on the rules and etiquette of the theater; how to order, who to order, the restrictions imposed on Family Night.

The Johansson women carefully planned Vicky's grand appearance. First thing they agreed on, time to shave her pussy. The hairstyle was easy, a simple ponytail. After hours of shopping they settled on a modified schoolgirl outfit. They shortened the plaid skirt till it barely covered her ass. When she walked fast her freshly shaved naughty bits would flash in and out of view. They skipped the bra and went with a tight fitting semi-transparent blouse. Vicky tied it under her boobs leaving her midriff bare, definitely not your typical schoolgirl look.

An hour before the Dinner Theater Vicky asked her mother a delicate question. She wanted to know how to please a boy. Mrs. Johansson chose to give it to her daughter straight. "It's not that hard dear; they're totally ruled by their cocks. I know you've seen the videos. A good blowjob will win the heart of any boy."

But we're getting ahead of ourselves. You've got to get them interested first. Men love watching girl on girl, like when you played with Susan's maid. Tonight just be sure to use the slaves. That should get the boys talking about you at school.

On the outside the Dream Slave Galleria looked similar to other shopping malls. The brainchild of a meatgirl rancher, it was a model of vertical integration. All the shops and kiosks in the building were part of his DSG "empire".

The first indication it might not be a typical mall was the prominent sign over the gated entrance: CHILDREN UNDER 16 MUST BE ACCOMPANIED BY PARENT OR ADULT GUARDIAN. Two armed women in dominatrix outfits guarded the gate. They were an effective deterrent for the riffraff and teenagers with insufficient allowances for upscale shopping.

A row of buxom Ponygirls stood at the entrance inside the mall. Vicky noted the horsetail butt plugs, it reminded her of Carla. The naked girls fidgeted nervously in front of their carts. A few could be seen pulling customers, their large tits bouncing with their high stepping gait. It was apparent why the Ponygirls were nervous, the long thin buggy whip. All the prancing bottoms had a generous number of nasty welts.

About half the stores were small fashion boutiques. Each specialized in something different, leather, Latex, fetish shoes and boots. There was a Ponygirl outfitter and other S&M Specialty Shops. The Dungeon Depot had everything you could want for the home dungeon in both medieval and modern design. Most of the display windows had at least one slave modeling an outfit or bondage device.

The food court offered the familiar varieties of girlmeat, burgers, barbeque, etc. Outside the DSG Sausage and Cheese Shop a nude perky teen offered samples of their famous smoked sausage. Restaurants included a steakhouse and a sushi bar. The Meat Locker was what you'd expect; rows of refrigerated display cases with the usual cuts of girlmeat. About half of the store was taken up with cages of live unhappy meatgirls.

At each corner of the mall was a larger store. There was the Snuff Palace, the Fantasy Fun Rooms, the Dinner Theater and the biggest, the Slave Cellar. This was the hub of the operation and the first stop for the meatgirls shipped in from the ranch. Here they were graded and sorted. The prettier girls were given an audition for sex-slave, the others labeled as meat. About two thirds would be used by the mall. The remaining girls were sold off the floor or on Saturdays at the weekly auction.

The Johanssons took a leisurely stroll through the mall before entering the Dinner Theater. They were greeted at the main desk by a voluptuous blond receptionist. Vicky recognized her uniform.  It was the same one Madelyn wore when she delivered the Brandt's sex slave. "Yes sir, how may I help you this evening?"

"We're the Johansson family. We have a reservation."

"Mr. Johansson... I see this is your first visit. You'll need to sign our release form. It's just a standard release. You acknowledge girlmeat is being served and you're not a member of People Against Eating Women.  Also, you know inside the theater everything is on camera and will be available to the general public."

Everyone signed and the receptionist picked up the phone. "Michelle, your six o'clock is here. Sir, your hostess will be here in a moment. Have you had a chance to read our brochure?"

"I haven't, but my wife has."

“I’ll just go over the main points then. The meatgirls are identified with a red collar and have no restrictions on use. Your Dinner Theater price includes one meatgirl prepared from any of the recipes on our menu. The sex-slave's collars are black. They're not available for consumption or destructive sex play. For billing purposes destructive is considered damage lasting longer than three weeks. The rest of our sex workers wear a leather and chrome collar like mine. We're available for sex and light play, but no marks expected to last longer than a day please." The receptionist spotted the Johansson's hostess. "I'll let Michelle fill you in on the rest."

Mr. Johansson turned to see a hot brunette walking toward them. All she wore were thigh high stiletto boots and the same leather and chrome collar as the receptionist. She looked about eighteen. Her shaved pussy had a single gold ring through one cunt lip. She had a confident sexy walk. Her full D-cup breasts jiggled nicely as she walked across the foyer.

After brief introductions the Johanssons followed Michelle into the dinner theater. The theater was big, two stories high. A narrow balcony circled the entire perimeter. Standing on this balcony was tonight’s selection of about 75 naked meatgirls. The nervous women's hands were tied behind them and a short leash secured them to the balcony railing.

Furniture, planters, and fountains, divided the ground floor into "play areas". The areas varied but all had a dining table, comfortable chairs, and a long padded bench. Large plasma monitors were positioned so several could be seen from any vantage point. The screens showed the live action occurring in various parts of the theater. There were mirrored surfaces everywhere which concealed the video cameras. Usually each screen was different but if something really hot was happening it would appear on all the monitors at once.

Michelle showed them to their spot and explained the basic Family Night rules: no bloodletting, gratuitous impaling or extended periods of screaming. Any dishes cooked live at the table must be properly gagged. As she spoke Mr. Johansson casually played with one of her breasts. Mrs. Johansson smiled and slipped her hand down the front of his pants.

Vicky wasn't paying attention. She was busy checking out the other guests. It was mostly businessmen or older men with younger companions. There was one group of four women having a hen's night out. She did recognize two boys from school sitting with their father. But she didn't spot any other girls her age, well not as guests anyway. Many of the sex-slaves and meatgirls looked about the same age as Vicky.

Michelle produced a catalog showing all the services and equipment available. Mr. Johansson didn't bother to look. "Tell me Michelle, what do you suggest to start us off?"

"Well Sir, some of the recipes require a considerable amount of time to prepare. If you plan on playing with your food I'd suggest you make your selection first."

Mr. Johansson continued to fondle Michelle's breasts. "Any suggestions for choosing a meatgirl?"

"A little competition is always fun. Have a few meatgirls perform with the loser getting cooked for your dinner. Their desperate energy can be very entertaining."

Mr. Johansson glanced up at the meatgirls standing on the balcony. He turned to his wife and gave her a kiss. "Mrs.J, why don't you and Vicky find us something to eat?"

She took her hand out of his pants. "Vicky, let's go check out the meat. I think your father wants to get rid of us!"

Vicky was excited as she and her mother got off the lift onto the balcony. She recognized the power she had over these unfortunate girls. She giggled as she stopped in front of a woman of about twenty. She pretended to evaluate the meatgirl. She hefted each breast, squeezed them, stretched the nipple. "Hmmm, these could be a bit firmer." She slid her index finger into the pussy and pinched. She tried to keep a serious look. "This cuntsteak seems a little thin."

And so it went. Vicky, the giggly schoolgirl, played at being the meatgirl connoisseur. She went from girl to girl squeezing tits and asses, pinching nipples and cunts. Her mother followed behind letting her daughter have her fun. She was startled when Vicky let out a little shriek of excitement. "What is it?"

Vicky recognized one of the meatgirls. "It's Mrs. Brandt!" Vicky exclaimed with an excited laugh. "I guess Susan's dad really was ready to trade up." Vicky grabbed both nipples, twisted and lifted, raising her friend’s stepmother up on her toes. "Remember you wanted me to invite Susan over for cuntsteak. I bet you weren't expecting yours to be on the menu!"

Mrs. Brandt tried not to panic. "No Mistress. I mean yes Mistress." She had to keep it together. It was made clear to the meat how to play their part in the show. If they didn't comply they were assured an extremely gruesome end.

Mrs. Johansson came to her rescue. "Vicky, don't bruise those tits." Vicky stepped back and her mom started to appraise Mrs. Brandt. "Gloria, I'd really like to thank you for having Vicky over. It's all she's been talking about for days." As Mrs. Johansson spoke she squeezed and prodded, giving Mrs. Brandt a thorough inspection. "How old are you?"

"Twenty seven Mam."

"Twenty seven. You must be a pretty lousy fuck to end up on the menu at just twenty seven. Hmm... well I'll let Vicky decide." Mrs. Johansson motioned to a sex-slave standing nearby. "Dear, do you think you could bring us a menu?"

"Right away Mam". In almost no time she was back.

Mrs. Johansson flipped through the pages till she found the item she was thinking of. She showed it to Vicky and whispered, "You have fun with Gloria; I want to find something better for your dad." Mrs. Johansson continued down the row of meatgirls leaving Vicky alone with her play toy.

Vicky stood close to Mrs. Brandt and read the menu. "Oh this sounds delicious! TwistyTwat: cuntsteak grilled live at your table with our famous PussyGrill.” Vicky gave Mrs. Brandt's pussy a hard squeeze then continued reading. “Live meatgirl on the PussyGrill, then snuffed, fillet removed, finished with a quick sauté in onions and garlic. What do you think Gloria? Doesn’t that sound like fun? Mmmmm... TwistyTwat."

Mrs. Brandt was on the verge of panic. Vicky unhooked her leash from the rail. "Well get on your knees. Maybe if you do a good job with your tongue I'll order something different." Vicky raised her skirt exposing her cute freshly shaved pussy. Mrs. Brandt tried to please her. "Faster, more tongue action... Gloria, you're not very good at this." Vicky giggled as she teased the scared woman. "Susan said you liked to watch your slaves wiggle while they were skinned for your bras. Do you think you'll wiggle on the PussyGrill?" Mrs. Brandt licked faster.

Vicky continued to deride her performance. "I don't know Gloria; maybe you’re better at licking ass." Vicky turned around and arched her back slightly, presenting her beautiful bottom. "Get your tongue in my asshole slave."

Mrs. Johansson returned to see poor Gloria Brandt's face wedged between her daughters butt cheeks. She had found dinner, a scared young meatgirl, petite with perky breasts and a cute firm ass. "Is she any good?"

Vicky straightened up. "Not really."

Mrs. Johansson stepped in front of Mrs. Brandt. "Gloria, is my daughter right?" She lifted her skirt. "Let's see what you can do with that tongue." Mrs. Brandt licked but to no avail. It was obvious the Johansson women were just playing with her. "You're right Vicky. Let's go. Someone else can eat this cunt."

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Chapter 5. The Menu

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Mr. Johansson watched his wife and daughter head off to find dinner. "Michelle, I'd like a Margarita on the rocks and a selection of nice shapely breasts... and at least one good cocksucker."

The Hostess walked over to her laptop and entered the drink order. She brought back a breast menu. "Sir, are you looking for a dinner item or just entertainment?"

"Just tits for a bit of fun." Mr. Johansson looked though the menu. There were front and side shots of almost every breast shape imaginable; round, pointed, big, small, a smorgasbord of breastly goodness. "I like them all. Just bring me a half dozen different shapes. Make them young and firm, and big nipples. I love big nipples."

A naked French maid arrived with the Margarita. Mr. Johansson sat back and relaxed with his drink. Michelle caught the French maid's eye and made a subtle motion with her hand; touching her index finger to her lips and pointing to Mr. Johansson. She hurried off to fulfill the

"breast order" as the French maid dropped to her knees. "Sir, would you like me to suck your cock?"

Mr. Johansson unzipped and pulled out his semi erect penis. "Don't get in a hurry, suck it slow and hard." Elsewhere in the theater things were starting to heat up. Guests were removing their clothes, meatgirls and slaves were fucking and sucking, trying hard to please. Whip and cane strokes followed by muffled yelps could be heard over the music and fountain noise.

The Johansson's play area had an unobstructed view of three others. To the left was still empty. Across were Vicky's schoolmates. And to the right was a group of women in their early 30's. From his position he could see six of the large screen monitors. All showed different scenes from other parts of the theater. Then two screens changed to Vicky's location. One of the cameras was low enough to show Vicky's naked bum under her skirt. It was obvious she was excited and having fun playing with the meatgirls.

Michelle returned with a group of naked young sex-slaves. Immediately the beautiful assortment of tits was placed within Mr. Johansson's reach. He played with them all, squeezing them... sucking them... a kid in a candy store. Michelle was surprised he hadn't come yet and added a second slave mouth to the task.

It was quite a site when Vicky started using Mrs. Brandt and she was featured more on the plasma screens. "A star is born." Michelle said as she nudged Mr. Johansson. He looked up at a monitor to see his daughter pressing Mrs. Brandt's face to her ass.

"Kids these days, no respect for their elders."

Her schoolmates were watching too. They hadn't paid any attention to Vicky at school but she was sure making an impression now.

Michelle was getting a little concerned. Mr. Johansson still hadn't come. Her job depended on extracting a top notch performance from the slaves. She grabbed a cane and gave each cocksucker's ass a good stroke. Thwap... Thwap... The slaves were already doing their best.

One unsatisfied customer and they could be standing with the meat.

Vicky and Mrs. Johansson returned with the main ingredient for their dinner. They found Mr. Johansson with his smiling face pressed between two pair of tits, his dick being vigorously sucked. His wife pushed one girl aside to greet her husband with a kiss.  She looked down at the sex-slaves trying their best to get her husband off. "Amateurs."

Mr. Johansson smiled. "I've been waiting for you." His wife grasped the hair of the slave on his dick and lifted her head off. She sucked him in till her lips reached the base of his cock. Her skillful mouth never stopped moving, continuously sucking up and down the entire length of the dick. When he came she swallowed it all... then started lightly sucking again. Mr. Johansson relaxed. This was really nice, his wife's fantastic mouth, the firm tits pressed against his face. "Another Margarita please."

Vicky saw one of her schoolmates watching her while three sex-slaves worked on his cock. She kept her eyes on him and started caressing their meatgirl. "Get on your knees. We'll give that boy a show." Vicky lifted her skirt and for the second time tonight a woman was licking her pussy. She unbuttoned her blouse and watched the boy as the sex-slaves sucked. He watched her grinding her pussy against the meat-girl's mouth.  Once more Vicky was the star performer on the video screens. She closed her eyes and orgasmed. The boy motioned to his hostess and she started using the whip. The slaves frantically sucked the young cock till one had a mouthful of cum...

"Excellent as always Mrs.J." Mr. Johansson lifted his wife's head off his dick. "Now let's see what you found us for dinner."

Mrs. Johansson stood the trembling piece of meat in front of her husband. "Relax dear; I don't think he's going to bite!"

Her eyes went wide when Mr. Johansson picked up a steak knife. It was simply to cut the tie securing her hands. He put the knife back down and patted his thigh. "Sit here." A very confused young meatgirl sat down on his lap. "Michelle, would you please give our dinner a menu... What was your name?"

"Jennifer, Sir."

"Well Jennifer, let's look through this menu and decide how to have you cooked. Mrs.J, did you have something special in mind?"

"She's got a beautiful ass for Rump Steaks Mr.J."

While Jennifer held the menu Mr. Johansson flipped through the pages. "Here we go, Rump Steak a la Viennese: Rump steak seasoned with paprika, floured, sautéed, served topped with onion rings. Does that sound good to everyone?"

"Aren't we going to eat her pussy!?" Vicky was looking at the menu. "There're lots of dishes for cuntsteak."

Mrs. Johansson laughed. "Of course we'll eat this pussy. But let's find something we can share. Hmm... This looks good, Pussy Platter: An assortment of bite size pieces of cunt, Teriyaki, Barbeque, Tempura. What do you think Mr.J?"

"Great. That just leaves these." Mr. Johansson jiggled the perky breasts. "What do you think Jennifer, how should we cook these titties?"

The girl wasn't sure what to say. She knew she was going to be dinner; she just didn't want to be cooked alive. She'd heard the desperate pleading and screaming when live meat was being cooked. She read through the menu. "Maybe... Breast Medallions a la Florentine?"

Jennifer pointed to the picture.

Mr. Johansson read the description. "That sounds delicious." He slid Jennifer off his lap onto the bench. Anticipating her husband’s intentions Mrs. Johansson moved to the girl's other side. "It’s time to play with our food. Spread your legs Breast Medallions a la Florentine. Vicky, you wanted to eat pussy, why don't you start us off."

Vicky did want to taste the live cuntsteak. She knelt between Jennifer's legs. The first time she went down on a pussy she hadn't known she'd be eating it later off the end of a fork. This was far more exciting. Her tongue moved on the pussy lips. Would this be Teriyaki or Tempura? She sucked the girl's clitoris. Maybe she'd get to eat the bite with the clit. The Johanssons took turns kissing her, sucking the nipples, licking her pussy. The adults made sure Vicky's mouth was between the meatgirl's legs when she experienced her final orgasm.

Michelle took Jennifer off to the kitchen. She'd be back soon... on the dinner plates.

"Cynthia!" Mrs. Johansson got up to greet the Taylors who were heading for the empty play area. They'd met Bob and Cynthia Taylor a few years ago at an S&M party. Anita had won the cocksucking competition and Cynthia was runner up. The wives would occasionally get together, taking turns being the bottom, providing entertaining threesomes for their husbands. After the usual exchange of pleasantries Mrs. Johansson told the Taylors about Mrs. Brandt and Vicky's fun with the PussyGrill.

"Gloria Brandt!" Cynthia exclaimed. "That bitch with the girlskin bras. This I've got to see!"

As the Taylors headed off Mr. Johansson got up and kissed his wife. "Unless I'm confused again, you're the only one who hasn't gotten off."

"Well you're always confused dear, but you're right. Michelle what do recommend for us horny girls?"

Michelle grinned and answered quickly. "Mam, the slave Sybian is always a favorite." She went to the bench and pressed a button. A few inches off the floor a narrow six foot padded platform extended. Unhooking the control box she explained, "We strap a slave down, you sit on the face and enjoy." She move the slider switches and the Sybian jumped to life, vibrating, moving in different directions, faster and slower. "You can control it yourself or I can run it for you. There's also a set of programmed routines the machine can run by itself."

Mrs. Johansson grabbed one of her husband’s pretty "breast girls". "Will she do?"

"She'll work up to level five. Over five and we prefer you use a meatgirl. This machine can really rattle their brains."

"Five sounds good. Strap this cuntsucker down!"

Michelle firmly grasped the slave's pussy and whispered in her ear. It was a simple reminder of what would be on the menu if Mrs. Johansson wasn't pleased. Once strapped to the Sybian the slave extended her tongue and waited. Michelle would be at the controls. She had many hours of practice on THIS machine. She knew how to please the ladies.

Mrs. Johansson knelt down and straddled the slave's face. She patted her on the cheek. "Let's go dear." As soon as her pussy touched the tongue Michelle started with the vibrations. Light and slow at first, the slave moved her tongue in time with the motion of the machine. Gradually the speed increased, the vibrations harder, the motions more extreme. Soon it took all the slave's efforts just to keep her mouth suctioned around Mrs. Johansson's clit. Michelle took the Sybian to level five. It was obvious from Mrs. Johansson's expression; the machine had completed its job...

She got up and sat next to her husband. They watched together as the dazed slave was unstrapped. Then like an injured player being helped off the field, the slave was led away. "Hey! Where're you going with my tits?" Mr. Johansson joked as he and his wife relaxed hand in hand.

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Chapter 6. Showtime

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Vicky's face lit up when she saw the Taylor's returning to their play area. They had the naked Mrs. Brandt on a leash followed by four slaves with the PussyGrill. The grill was a simple design. Its four by four foot wheeled base was twenty inches high and contained a bank of heavy batteries. These powered the heating elements and the weight kept the platform stable. A single three inch thick pole rose about thirty inches from the center. The top eight inches abruptly tapered to one inch thick.

Vicky sat down next to her parents and they all watched as the Taylor's meal was prepared. Their buxom hostess was dressed like Michelle, thigh high boots with leather and chrome collar. For the dinner preparation she'd added a white chef's hat. The first step was to quiet Mrs. Brandt. The meat had been begging and pleading since she first spotted the PussyGrill. In went the gag. A strap was added on the back of her collar and attached to her wrist tie. It pulled her hands up, allowing a good view of meatgirl ass.

The hostess spent several minutes rubbing the live cuntsteak with olive oil. Then the grill, it looked harmless enough, like a mesh thong bikini. But where the mesh crossed the pussy it was made of heating elements. Mrs. Taylor joked, "Gloria, you look like you're ready for the beach, topless and all oiled up!"

It took all four slaves to get the very uncooperative Mrs. Brandt onto the PussyGrill stage. The center pole was lowered and raised back up, six inches into her ass. With the meatgirl's bottom effectively skewered she wasn't going anywhere. A five inch tie secured each leg to the platform. The loose straps allowed for plenty of movement; just not the six inches required to get off the pole. The electrical lead was connected and the grill was ready to go.

Several of the plasma screens now featured Mrs. Brandt waiting on the PussyGrill stage. Mrs. Taylor could hardly wait. "Gloria isn't this exciting! I hope you're going to give a good performance!?" She clapped her hands together once. "Showtime!" It only took a second for the elements to heat up. Instantly Mrs. Brandt started an energetic dance. She hopped wildly from foot to foot, jumped up and down. It looked like she was fucking the pole.

Gradually her dancing changed. Her violent twisting and shaking slowed a little, the muffled screams changed to moans. The cunt was cooked. While the hostess switched off the grill a slave wiped the tears, snot and drool from the meatgirl's face.

Mrs. Taylor stepped up and stood in front of her dinner. "Oh Gloria, that was superb. I see why they call it TwistyTwat." Her hands caressed Mrs. Brandt's tits. She circled the nipples with her fingers. The stunned meatgirl's chest heaved up and down as she tried to catch her breath. "Remember all those great stories you use to tell... The ones about watching your slaves as they removed the material for your bras... you remember... You danced for us so nicely..." Mrs. Taylor jiggled the breasts. "I bet you'd like to see one last tit-skinning before you go." Mrs. Brandt became energetic again. Shaking her head, she screamed through the gag. "Now now, relax Gloria, you don't need to thank me." Mrs. Taylor leaned over and gave each nipple a quick little suck. "I'm sure these titties will make me a wonderful bra."

The Johanssons watched as the PussyGrill rolled out of the room. The impaled Mrs. Brandt certainly seemed very upset about something.

"That was interesting." Mr. Johansson was ready for more naughty fun. "Michelle, how long till dinner?"

"At least an hour Sir, can I get you something else? Another drink perhaps, or maybe a new selection of tits?"

"What do you recommend for fucking fun? Your suggestion for my wife was right on the money."

"Well Sir, most gentlemen appreciate a good ass fuck. I can bring you several squeaky clean tight bottoms to play with."

Mrs. Johansson smiled and started a subtle grinding motion with her hips. Her husband chuckled. "Mrs.J I'm sure your assfucking skills would beat these slaves hands down!"

After seeing Mrs. Johansson swallow her husband’s cock, Michelle had no reason to doubt the boastful claim. "We have Gertrude. She hasn't been used yet, she always gets featured on the screens."

"Gertrude? Gertrude? OK, bring on this assfucking champion of yours!"

"Sir, we'll have to go to her. She has a private room."

"A shy girl eh. Vicky, you coming with us?"

"No Dad, I think I'll stay and play with the Sybian."

Michelle left three of the slaves to attend Vicky, and then the group was off to meet Gertrude. She wasn't far, a side room just off the main theater. They entered and there she stood, a large industrial six axis robotic arm, painted pink with a frilly white dress around her base.

On one side was a sturdy reclining chair. On the other side a row of frames. Each frame held a gagged and blindfolded slave, strapped tight in a fetal position.

When they entered the machine came to life. It did a short little choreographed program, spinning and revolving all its joints. Then it stopped, turned, and precisely grabbed the first frame. It spun around till the slave's puckered asshole was directly facing the group. Then another routine, this one much more perverted. Like a hand stroking a cock it moved the ass in a small arc up and down. Slow at first, then increasing speed till it was almost a blur.

Mr. Johansson was impressed. "Wow... I think you may have met you match Dear." He removed his clothes and positioned himself in the chair. Two slaves went to work on his cock while Michelle pressed her pretty tits to his face. Mrs. Johansson stood close on his right, caressing his chest with one hand. She moved the other between her legs. She enjoyed watching the slaves suck her husband.

While Mr. Johansson was getting hard Gertrude prepared her ass. In one smooth motion she swung it over the cleaning station and pressed it onto the first tube. This pumped in and removed a soapy liquid. After a good cleaning it was onto another tube. This one pumped in the lubrication.

He didn't take long to get an erection and the slave mouths were moved to his wife. As the ass swung over Mr. Johansson, cameras and penis recognition software allowed Gertrude to position it correctly. Michelle held his cock... the ass slowly lowered... a muffled squeal and his dick was in.

"Boy that's tight."

Michelle smiled. "It only gets tighter. The way Gertrude moves there's no way this ass can relax." She brought her pretty tits back to his face and Gertrude started moving. First a light vibration and the ass slid up and down the length of his cock. Quickly the variations began,

a half inch up, an inch down, reversed and repeated. Vibrations pulsed from light to hard while various twisting motions were introduced. It seemed Gertrude vibrated and moved that ass every possible way.

Mr. Johansson savored the exquisite assfuck. Twice he came close to cumming and had the machine stop, wait, and start again. His wife was getting off too. She slowly gyrated her hips between the slave faces. Their expert mouths licked and sucked her pussy and ass. The couple kissed like horny teenagers, Mrs. Johansson came first, then her husband a minute later.

Gertrude slid the ass off Mr. Johansson and the slave mouths went back on his cock. With a pat on his chest his wife admitted defeat. "Mr.J, it is with great regret that I relinquish my assfucking title."

"Don't worry about it Mrs.J," Mr. Johansson chuckled, "I'm sure you're a much better kisser." They relaxed. He enjoyed the moment, kissing his wife, having his dick gently sucked...

"Shall we head back and see what our daughter's been up to?"

The Johanssons took a leisurely stroll back, taking in the kinky sights. Beautiful naked women were everywhere, some being used, others exquisite ornamentation. The typical entertainment made for a slightly edgy atmosphere.  The familiar sound of the whip... the inevitable shriek or gasp... occasionally you could hear the pleading of a meatgirl as she found out how she was going to be cooked.

They returned to their play area to find Vicky completely naked, sitting on the face of a young slave strapped to the Sybian. She'd already enjoyed an exceptional orgasm. Now she was just playing, moving the controls in various combinations, squealing with delight when she found a good one. The unfortunate sex-slave was completely exhausted by now. After checking on the status of their meal, Mr. Johansson effected a rescue.

"C'mon Vicky, let's put our clothes back on. Dinner will be here any time."

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Chapter 7. Dinner

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Slowly the atmosphere in the theater changed. The aroma of cooked girlmeat wafted in the air as the dinner orders started to arrive. The noise from sex and entertainment was gradually replaced with the familiar clinking sound of glasses, silverware and plates.

A statuesque blonde arrived with the Johansson's Pussy Platter. From her expression you'd have thought she was carrying Nitroglycerin. She knew if she dropped the expensive appetizer her cuntsteak would be the replacement. You could see her relief when the platter was safely on

the table. She stood next to Mr. Johansson. He gave her ass a friendly squeeze then from behind slipped his hand between her legs. He slid his thumb into her pussy and casually stroked it with his fingers.

It was a delicious appetizer. The bite size pieces of Teriyaki, Barbeque and Tempura were each on a small toothpick. Only one toothpick had a decorative little flag. Vicky correctly surmised that was the one with the clit. One by one the tasty pieces were eaten. Finally only the specially flagged bite remained. "Vicky, I think you were the last to taste this alive, why don't you finish it off."

Vicky couldn't conceal her excitement. "Thanks Dad!" She quickly popped the little piece in her mouth and tried to eat it slowly. This was her new favorite thing; to know the taste of a live clitoris, to suck it to orgasm, to eat and swallow it completely. Mmmmm...

Breast Medallions a la Florentine was the next course. This came on plates carried by a pretty brunette. She also carried the same serious expression. Mr. Johansson released the blonde’s pussy and positioned the brunette on his lap. His wife could easily read his mind. She cut

off a bite of the delectable meat and fed him while he played with the new breasts. And so it went till the Johanssons had eaten all of Jennifer's scrumptious titties.

Rump Steaks a la Viennese was the main course. The three petite slaves who delivered it were obviously chosen for their cute bottoms. The steaks from Jennifer’s ass were cooked to perfection. From now on it would be hard to eat plain girl-burgers without thinking of this meal.

There was talk of desert but everyone was pleasantly full. The table was cleared. The family relaxed on the bench and chatted about the meal. Michelle kept a new assortment of sex-slaves standing at the ready. Mr. Johansson appreciated the job their pretty Hostess was doing. "Michelle, your service has been outstanding. Forgive my ignorance, what sort of gratuity is customary?"

"None Sir. We're strictly forbidden from accepting any tips."

"That's what I suspected."

Mr. Johansson whispered something to his wife. She smiled at Michelle and patted the bench. "Sit back on the bench dear. My husband and I would never leave a restaurant without tipping."

This was a first for Michelle. She sat between Mr. Johansson and Vicky. He started caressing her breasts, gently sucking the nipples. Vicky waited till the schoolboys were watching, and then started French kissing Michelle. Mrs. Johansson knelt between her legs and lightly caressed her thighs, slowly working her way up. She waited until Michelle was warmed up before moving her tongue on the wet pussy. The Hostess discovered Mrs. Johansson was not just an expert cocksucker. She gradually increased the pace… inserting two fingers... and last a finger in her ass. Michelle had a very powerful orgasm...

Mrs. Johansson got up with a smile on her shiny face. "I think I'll go freshen up. Vicky you want to come along?" She declined. The boys had watched her the whole time she'd been kissing Michelle. She thought this might be a good time to introduce herself to her schoolmates.

Mr. Johansson started a relaxed conversation with Michelle. He was curious how she came to be a Hostess. She explained. "When I was sixteen I got in trouble with a teacher so my Dad sold me to the DSG. I passed the audition for sex-slave and worked my way up from there."

"Well you certainly know your stuff. I'll be sure to ask for you next time." By now he'd decided they would definitely be returning.

"Thank you Sir but I'm afraid this is my last day here. I've accepted a job at the Marriot. I'm going to be the Head Mistress of their new slave-pen."

Mr. Johansson was puzzled. "What do you mean 'accepted a job'? Aren't you owned by the DSG?"

Michelle responded with a detailed description of the incentives used by the DSG Empire. The clever system was designed to achieve the highest level of performance. At the bottom end were the meatgirls. They had a very slim chance of advancing. The sex-slaves were much better off. Poor performance and they'd end up as meat. But if they were pretty and above average performers they could move into DSG staff positions. With exceptional performance in a staff position a girl could earn her freedom.

DSG "graduates" were highly sought after. Upon graduating they were virtually assured of a lucrative job in their particular field of entertainment.

As Mr. Johansson listened an idea crept into his brain. "When your father sold you... wasn't he worried you might end up as meat?"

"I didn't know it at the time but there was a reserve clause in my sales contract. He always had the option of buying me back. The DSG was required to notify him before using me for any type of destructive play so he didn't have to worry."

They continued talking until his wife came back. About the same time Vicky returned from her successful encounter with the boys. "Michelle I'd like to settle our bill now." He gave a little wink to the Hostess as she headed off.

Mrs. Johansson picked up on his strange behavior, the odd wink, the way they'd stopped talking when she returned. She decided not to say anything. Besides, Vicky was now excitedly recounting her conversation with the boys and how they couldn't keep their eyes off her tits.

Michelle soon returned with the Maitre d'. He politely made sure they were happy with their service before giving Mr. Johansson the bill. He looked it over and then patted his hip. "Hmm, I seem to have forgotten my wallet."

Mrs. Johansson froze. Vicky totally missed the ramifications of her father’s statement. All Mrs. Johansson could think about was Gloria Brandt. Would she end up like her, entertaining diners with a dance on the PussyGrill?

The Maitre d' was exceptionally calm. "How would you like to pay this evening Sir?"

"Vicky, you've enjoyed yourself, you pay tonight’s bill and I'll get it next time."

She jumped to her feet. "But Dad, you know I don't have any money!"

"Oh dear." The Maitre d' raised a hand and snapped his fingers.

Two strong slaves were waiting directly behind the girl. They grasped her by the arms and for a brief moment she started to struggle. Michelle ended that with a stun gun to the small of her back. Before she could recover she was stripped naked, tied, and gagged.

This was first rate entertainment for the plasma screens. The Maitre d' made a big show of inspecting the frightened young girl. He hefted each breast, squeezed them, rolled the firm flesh between his fingers. He pinched both cheeks of her ass and inserted his middle finger in her puckered anus. Her pussy received a very thorough inspection. In reality it was all for show. Mr. Johansson and Michelle had worked out the deal before hand. The Johansson's dinner bill was just a fraction of the cost of a quality girl like Vicky. She was top shelf sex-slave material.

"Grade A prime, consider your bill paid in full Sir. I'll credit your account with the balance. Please enjoy the rest of your evening." With that the Maitre d' left with the latest acquisition of the Dream Slave Galleria.

His wife was too stunned to speak. Grade A prime! Was her daughter's pussy destined for someone's dinner plate!? What was her husband thinking?

Michelle handed the short sales contract to Mr. Johansson. He quickly checked yes on the reserve clause and handed the contract to his wife. "Read this."

She read the contract... stared at her husband's signature... then handed it back. "Has all this pussy made you go insane?"

Michelle thought this would be a good time to excuse herself and go finalize the paperwork.

Mr. Johansson quickly explained his plan. "It just came to me." He told her about the long conversation with their Hostess. "Hell, Michelle's only eighteen and she's going to be earning a fortune. Look around. Vicky's the prettiest girl in here and you've seen how she's taken to sex. In two years that'll be her with a fantastic job."

Mrs. Johansson carefully thought about her husband's idea. "What makes you so sure she'll make Hostess?"

"That's where you come in. I've arranged to have Vicky reserved three hours a week. Who could be a better sex-ed teacher than the incredible Mrs.J? And Michelle is available to tutor her in any other necessary Hostess skills."

Mrs. Johansson began to relax. It sounded like a reasonable plan... They could always buy Vicky back... If her daughter was anything like her she'd be an exceptional sexworker... Her husband appeared to have covered all the bases...

A small smile gradually crossed her face.  "Mr.J, you ARE an evil bastard."

"Well Mrs.J, sometimes parents just have to step in and help with their child's career decisions."

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Chapter 8.Takeout

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Mrs.J was lost in thought for awhile... then her eyes lit up. "We should use Vicky's college fund to buy a French maid!"

"To help with the housework Mrs.J?"

"To help with the cocksucking Mr.J."

Mr. Johansson considered the idea. He loved getting blown and kissing his wife at the same time. "Ok, but we can't spend too much money. Until Vicky graduates we've got to have enough to cover the cost of her pretty ass."

Mrs. Johansson got up. "I think I'll go find our daughter and see how she's getting along". She planted a kiss on her husband’s cheek and was off to locate Vicky.

As soon as Michelle returned Mr. Johansson asked the question. "Is it possible to purchase something for takeout?"

"Certainly Mr. Johansson. Are you looking for a meatgirl or perhaps one of our more experienced sex-slaves?"

"Something affordable... for light housework, occasional kinky sex play."

"Well, A sex-slave is very expensive. A meatgirl's considerably cheaper but the quality's not nearly as good." Michelle thought for a moment. They'd been such a friendly couple; she really wanted to help them out... "Torpedo Tits."

Mr. Johansson leaned closer to Michelle, not sure he'd heard her correctly. "Torpedo Tits?"

"Yeah..." Michelle looked around as if worried someone might over-hear. She lowered her voice. "We received this cute freckled-faced redhead in a bulk meatgirl order. She had these big, pointed tits so we called her Torpedo Tits. She didn't understand a word of English."

"A meatgirl, so has she been eaten?"

"I don't know. We tried all week to teach her a few words so she'd know what was going on. Every time someone touched her she started making a fuss. Meatgirls have to show a little composure to be a selection in the Dinner Theater. It's probably why she ended up in a bulk order. Anyway, this afternoon the Maitre d' got pissed and chucked her in the parts bin."

"Parts bin?"

"That's the holding cage by the kitchen.  It's stocked with meatgirls who don't make the grade and any leftovers from non-lethal dinner orders. Live meatgirls are expensive but girlmeat from the parts bin is priced by the pound. If you can deal with the language problem she'd be a steal."

"I'm not buying a slave for language skills. I've got other uses in mind for her mouth."

"I'll go check then. If she's still with us I'll tag her for you."

As Michelle turned to leave Mr. Johansson touched her arm. "I'd like to come with you. I don't want to buy a slave sight unseen."

"I'm sorry Sir, customers aren't allowed in the kitchen. I can bring her up here but then you'll be charged a meatgirl price. Trust me, you're a tit man, you won't be disappointed." With that, Michelle hurried off to the kitchen.

A few minutes later she returned with a big grin on her face. "OK Mr. Johansson, that's 112 lbs. of girlmeat to-go. You can pick up your order at the front desk." Again Michelle lowered her voice. "I know you'd like to check out your new slave but remember, for now she's just a package of meat."

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Chapter 9. New Career

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Mrs. Johansson located her daughter in the slave ready room. The Head Mistress greeted her politely then whispered so Vicky couldn't hear. "She's doing great but please don't mention her reserve clause. We find the girls perform much better when they're not waiting to be rescued by their parents."

Mrs. Johansson stood back and watched. Vicky looked remarkably poised for a young girl who'd just been sold into slavery. This was partly due to her understanding of the options, cooperative sex-slave or delicious meatgirl. But there was something more. Vicky had recovered from the initial shock and was starting to get excited. Tonight she'd seen all the slaves fucking and sucking, it was about to be her turn.

Two naked girls removed the ball gag and quickly touched up her hair and makeup. They added a black leather collar and wrist cuffs. Her hands were positioned in the small of her back. A short chain from the cuffs to the collar insured an unobstructed view of her gorgeous ass. Finally the new slave was blindfolded.

Satisfied with the look the Head Mistress proceeded to explain what was expected of her. Her first night would be an introduction to cocksucking. Obviously she would remain naked and cuffed. The blindfold would help avoid distractions. Her two attendants would be responsible for guiding Vicky through the theater and offering her mouth to the patrons. More detailed cocksucking instructions followed, then time for Vicky to begin her new career.

After a few last words of encouragement Mrs. Johansson headed back to join her husband. They watched together as Vicky made her entrance. The naked attendants, one on each side, guided her to the closest play area. As luck would have it, it was their good friends the Taylors.

One of the attendants cheerfully asked, "Sir, would you like to help train a new cocksucker?"

Mr. Taylor smiled and stood up. "Hmmm..." He reached out with both hands and gave Vicky's firm breasts a good squeeze. "Great tits... really great tits... Sure, I'll help out."

Vicky was a little alarmed at his less than gentle grip on her breasts. But she remembered her instructions. As soon as he released her tits she dropped to her knees. "Please Sir; may I suck your cock?" She opened her mouth wide and held her tongue out. Mr. Taylor didn't hurry. He was getting hard just looking at the gorgeous new slave, on her knees, waiting to taste her first dick.

When Vicky felt the cock on her tongue it was already fully erect. She immediately moved her head forward, sucking him into her mouth. Vicky caught on fast and in no time had her head bobbing up and down. She was trying hard. She didn't want to end up on the balcony with someone appraising HER cuntsteak!

Vicky was alarmed when Mr. Taylor started pulling her head up. She flashed back to the sucking game she'd seen Mr. Brandt play. It was rather amusing to watch her almost frantic effort to keep sucking him. But there weren't any cane strokes coming, just Vicky's first chance to lick balls.

The Johanssons decided to stroll over and check on their daughter's progress. Mr.J casually fondled Vicky's handler's tits. "So Bob, how's she doing?"

"Really good, it's hard to believe she hasn't done this before."

Cynthia took Mrs. Johansson by the arm. "Thanks so much for pointing out Gloria. That's the most fun play I've had in years! It's a good thing her ass was skewered on that pole. I thought she was going to shit when I told her she was about to be my new bra!"

"Oh Cynthia, you're BAD! So that's why she wasn't snuffed at the table!"

"Well, I knew she would appreciate her wardrobe more if she got to have the full 'bra experience'! Besides, she always said how much fun it was to watch them wiggle. I thought I should see for myself."

"Aaaah Uuuhhh" Mr. Taylor gave Vicky the reward of her first blowjob. Everyone smiled as they watched the young cocksucker trying to swallow it all.

Despite her best effort a small amount escaped onto her chin. Mrs.J bent over and wiped it off with her finger, then licked her finger clean. "Try not to dribble dear. Boys like to think you want every drop." Vicky desperately wanted to answer her mother but the instructions from the Head Mistress were clear. Tonight she was only allowed one sentence. Since she was finished with Mr. Taylor, it was off to the next play area to use that sentence again.

The theater activity was at a low point. Most were relaxing, allowing time for their tasty meals to digest. Still, very few declined to help with Vicky's training. It was hard to refuse the schoolgirl they'd seen featured on the plasma screens. Vicky did her best to please. With each new dick in her mouth she focused on the Head Mistress' simple instructions: watch the teeth, suck hard, and swallow the cum.

Actually Vicky wasn't getting much cum. By now all the men had been drained at least once. Hard as Vicky tried she really wasn't up to the high standards of the DSG. That would take more formal training. Typically she was being used only a minute or two before being moved on to her next "trainer".

It was a different story altogether when she was placed in front of her ex-schoolmates. The two teenage boys had plenty of cum left for Vicky. They quickly had a camera phone out and took turns taking pictures of Vicky sucking them off. "Wait till the kids at school see these!"

The more patrons Vicky "serviced" the harder she found it to concentrate. Most wanted to fuck her ass! So far only fingers had been forced into her beautiful bottom; but only because they'd been stopped by the attendants. She was sure some of the dicks she'd had in her mouth would never fit in her asshole. Tonight was "introduction to cocksucking". Was she going to survive "introduction to assfucking"!?

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Chapter 10. One Last Load

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The Johanssons sat together on the comfortable bench, lightly playing with each other’s hands. "What do you think Mr.J, anything left in that old dick of yours? Michelle, if I know my husband he's got one last load for your slaves."

"I'm not moving. I'm stuffed."

Michelle carefully considered the services she had available. "Sir, I don't think our cocksuckers can beat your wife, but if you'll play along, I think we can provide a memorable blowjob."

Memorable blowjob, Mr. Johansson liked the sound of that. Michelle made a quick call, reading off a list of names into her cell phone. A moment later four sex-slaves arrived pushing the PussyGrill stage. Their looks and skills were first class; all were on the short list to make Hostess. And all were a little surprised not to find a meatgirl waiting with Michelle.

The Johanssons smiled. It was easy to see where this was going. Michelle wasn't smiling. She had her riding crop and had adopted a very serious demeanor. "Slaves, tonight I've seen this housewife put our cocksucking skills to shame. To make up for it we're giving them a complementary order of TwistyTwat, to be more precise, FIRST CLASS TwistyTwat."

The slaves went pale. This was unthinkable for sex-slaves at their skill level; to have made it this far only to end up a complementary order of TwistyTwat? One by one Michelle had the scared girls stand in front of Mr. Johansson, raise a leg and place one foot on the bench. From this spread position he closely examined the beautiful selections of cuntsteak. He squeezed and stretched the delicate meat. "Damn, I can't decide... They all look so delicious."

Michelle lightly rubbed her crop on one of the trembling asses. "Sir, under the circumstances, maybe a blowjob competition would help with your decision."

"Well, how about it ladies? Shall we let your mouth skills determine which cunt dances on the grill?" They understood it was a rhetorical question.

Michelle ran the show, determining which slave sucked dick, which licked balls... Then she created more intensity with her crop. Short squeals and gasps accompanied the mouth work as she landed vigorous strokes on the bottoms. The whole time the Hostess instructed and critiqued the cocksuckers. She chose her words carefully. Each girl was convinced she was about to become TwistyTwat.

The desperate licking and sucking, the squeals and gasps, the beautiful way Michelle's tits jiggled as she swung the crop... it all came together to get Mr. Johansson off. He relaxed with his eyes closed for several minutes, agonizing minutes for the scared sex-slaves. When he finally opened them he had a big grin on his face. "I'm too full to eat another pussy."

Michelle's attitude instantly changed to a smiling, cheerful Hostess. "Thank you girls, I think that's going to be all. Unless... Mrs. Johansson, can we do something more for you?"

"No, I think we're done for tonight."

The sex-slaves got up, obviously extremely relieved. Then Mr. Johansson calmly said, "What about an order to-go?"

Before the slaves could panic his wife punched him hard on the arm. "Bastard, leave these poor girls alone!"

"Ow!" He laughed as he rubbed the sore spot. "Oh, you're no fun anymore!"

Vicky was featured on the screens again. She looked really cute on her knees, blindfolded sucking on a cock. Mrs. Johansson watched and felt optimistic... her daughter seemed to be a very fast learner."Michelle, do you think we should say goodnight to Vicky?"

"It would probably be better if you didn't Mam. She needs to stay focused on her job."

The Johanssons dressed, thanked Michelle, and said goodbye to the Taylors. Waiting for them at the front desk was 112 lbs. of naked live meat. She had a simple cord tied around her neck and duct tape over her mouth. Michelle had been absolutely right. Mr. Johansson wasn't disappointed. She was adorable with amazing tits. He did his best to act nonchalant as he signed the receipt for his meat.

The couple headed home walking arm in arm through the mall. The confused Torpedo Tits followed behind them. Her big pointed breasts bounced beautifully with every step.

"Mrs.J, this was a very enjoyable evening. We should do it again sometime."

"That would be lovely Mr.J.  I'll be sure to bring my purse."

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Dream Slave Galleria

R.Platz 2008