Barry's Sluts Ch. 03: Imani

Clyde shrugged. "I haven't seen the tart since the freeze started, so I would know fuck all about your problems."

Barry blinked. The freeze had ended the day after his meeting with Rod, over three weeks ago. Suzanna never missed a week of filming—hell, she was such a workaholic that she sometimes did shoots two, maybe three days of the week like she did in college. Unlike most girls, Suzanna wasn't in the business just for the money. She loved being a slut and being paid for it.

So why hadn't she come back to work? And even more suspiciously . . . why hadn't she told him?

But all of those questions would have to wait. "I want you to meet my sister, Imani," he said to Clyde. She reached out her hand to shake.

"Sister?" He replied, doing a double-take at her skin color.

"Half-sister." She laughed and shrugged. "What can I say? Dad liked the dark meat."

Clyde nodded, but then winced as he pulled his hand away from their brief greeting. "Christ Almighty that's a strong grip you got, sweetie." She only smiled proudly and wickedly.

"Clyde, is there anywhere we can sit by and watch you film?" Barry asked.

"Yeah. Shit, Barry, you're the boss. You sit where you bloody wanna sit, I figure."

Barry chuckled and nodded to a secluded, dark corner. "I think we'll park over there. That cool with you, Sis?"

"Very cool with me, little brother."

'Little brother'. That still felt weird to hear, and he wasn't sure it was what he wanted. After all, if she saw him as her 'little' brother, how would that translate into a desire to fuck him? That didn't fit with his goals at all. Not even his mother thought of him as her 'little boy' anymore, and he'd worked to keep it that way.

Exacerbating that problem was how different she was from Ariadne. She was confident, aggressive, and tomboyish . . . pretty much his mother's opposite in every way. From Barry's experience, women like her knew what turned them on, and they weren't likely to settle for anything less.

But he was patient, and persistent. In fact, he loved the art of seduction. The mind games, the observations, adapting to chaotic factors which couldn't possibly be controlled . . . it all excited him greatly. One of the reasons he'd acquired so many submissives over the years was because it was difficult to resist the challenge of helping nice, "prudish" women become the sluts they had always been born to be.

Some women needed months to be freed, others years. The fastest person he'd ever collared thus far had been Trena, his favorite little Chinese fucktoy. The conversation had gone something like this:

"Trena, how would you like to be collared?"

"Will I get filled with more of your cum?"

"Absolutely."

"Then why the fuck aren't I collared yet?"

But she was special. Trena had always been one step down from a nymphomaniac, and she simply worshipped cock. When her craving for it hit, she had zero concept of the word "no". Of any woman he had ever met in his life, no one was more deserving to be called "slut" than Trena Lin.

And "slut" wasn't an insult of any kind. In fact, it was the highest possible compliment. If "slut" simply described someone who was easy to fuck, then he qualified as one himself. But being "easy", contrast to what tight-assed moral extremists would believe, did not mean not having any standards whatsoever. Barry had turned down sex many times—most recently with the drunk at Rod's party—but whenever he found something he wanted, he went for it. Enjoying mutual pleasure was the most beautiful, most sensual thing in the world. In his mind, it would be hard to imagine the world as anything less than a better place if everyone was a "slut".

And how amazing would it be to see his chocolate-colored, large-breasted sister become a slut for him? It had taken him months to finally build the confidence and appeal he needed in order to savor his mother's pussy, and he was willing to do the same for his voluptuous, ebony sibling. The devil himself would be wearing ice skates before he'd lose the patience to fuck a body that stout, and perfect for breeding.

******

Filming was done shortly after one in the morning, by which time Barry had introduced Imani to the rest of the cast and crew. Absolutely everyone commented on her beautiful figure and told her she would be the perfect subject for future films. Every time someone said so, she simply smiled politely and said, "I'll think about it."

Yet another thing she and her brother had in common.

On the car ride back, no one spoke for a while. Another spooky bit of déjà vu from Barry's first time watching a film shoot. Just as Suzanna had done to him all those years ago, he gave his sister a punch in the arm.

"Ow. What was that for?"

"You not gonna tell me what you thought?"

"The fuck? You hit me for that?" She responded by punching him back, socking him squarely on the shoulder with a surprisingly painful hit. "There. We're even."

"Jesus Christ," Barry said, rubbing his shoulder. "You hit harder that most dudes I know."

"I told you. I'm ex-Army. I know how to dish it out. Did some boxing and combatives in the service."

Barry's grin widened. "Oh did you? You know, I box myself."

She glanced at his physique. "Well, it's obvious you work out, but I didn't know you boxed. I hope for your sake, though, that you can hit harder than you just did."

Barry chuckled. "I took it easy because you're my sister."

"Why? I can take it." She lifted her arm and curled it until an impressively huge and chiseled bicep formed. "Military Circuit Female Champ, three years in a row. My body can take anything yours can dish out."

"I'll just bet it can," Barry said, with a hidden double meaning.

Imani smiled. "Where do you box?"

"A few gyms, here and there," he replied. "But I don't just train for sport. It's also for self-defense."

She blinked. "Run into trouble before, have we?"

"Like you wouldn't believe," Barry replied.

Her eyes sparkled with interest. "Tell me about it."

Barry told Imani about the time he and Suzanna had clashed with that gun-toting maniac Victor. About how he had been shot and worked for months to rehabilitate. Suzanna had pushed his body to the brink during their workouts, and he became addicted to the feeling. Since then, he worked out regularly, and had taken up boxing and self-defense.

"Boxing won't help much against a scumbag with a gun," Imani told him sternly. "You own a firearm?"

"No," Barry answered, keeping to himself that he and Ariadne had never owned a weapon in their Chicago home because there were just too many children and too many things that could go wrong. Barry loved every one of his babies, and he'd never forgive himself if something happened to them.

That said, he felt it might make sense to keep a weapon here in the Hills. The only two people who lived here regularly were Suzanna and himself, which was why it had made the perfect location for his birthday surprise months ago. It was primarily a love nest for Barry and any woman he felt confident enough to bring home.

And even though they had security watching the place now, a little personal protection wouldn't hurt. So why not keep a piece around the place?

"Is there a shooting range around?"

Barry chuckled. "This is LA. There's shooting ranges everywhere."

She smiled again. "Why don't we go to one tomorrow?" She asked him. "I'll show you how to use a real weapon."

Barry laughed wickedly, unable to resist that one. "I know how to use my weapon just fine."

Imani smacked her forehead. "Ha. Ha," she said sarcastically. "What damn comedian you are."

******

After dropping Imani off at the inn she directed him to, Barry bid her good night and his driver headed home.

When he got there, Suzanna was waiting, sitting on their loveseat reading a book. "Hey honey," she said.

"Hey beautiful," he replied as he slipped off his jacket. "Why're you still up?"

She smiled. "I wanted to hear how it went. You met your big sister, huh?"

Barry's grin was ear-to-ear. "Yeah."

She leaned over the arm of the couch, clasping her hands together under her chin. "So, tell me! What was she like?"

"Well, for starters . . . she's black."

Her eyes widened. "No way . . . "

"Yup," he answered. "Unbelievable, isn't it?"

"It's a surprise to say the least, but that's not what I'm really interested in. Do you guys get along? Is she nice?"

"Oh yeah, she's awesome. And I think our personalities are a lot alike."

Suzanna's eyes narrowed, and her smile widened. "Do you wanna fuck her?"

Barry gave a mischievous grin as he sat next to his beautiful, equally dirty-minded wife. "Damn straight I do."

Suzanna licked her lips and worked at his buttons. "You wanna put a baby in her tummy and make a coffee-colored Garrett?"

Barry swallowed excitedly. "Uh-huh."

"Take off your pants, baby. Let me see how much that idea excites you."

Any chance Barry had of being the master tonight slipped away at the same time his pants did. In moments, he was presenting his horny bride with a stiff, throbbing cock approaching ten inches in sheer immensity.

"Good lord, I don't think I've seen you this hard in ages," she said, cupping her fingers around it and lightly massaging the shaft. "You really do want a black Garrett baby, don't you?"

"I wouldn't turn down the idea," he cooed as he stroked her rich, golden locks. "But I'd rather see a few more Garretts with blond hair, actually."

She paused and gazed deeply into his eyes. Out of his entire harem of lovers, submissives, and sluts, Suzanna was the only one with natural blond hair. Further, blond hair didn't run in the Garrett family, so absolutely every child he'd ever fathered—with Ariadne or otherwise—had been brunette. Upon realizing that, Barry had begun to fashion a new fantasy for himself—the first child of his genes born with beautiful, sparkling blond hair, produced from the womb of the number one woman in his life.

Suzanna smiled and gently stroked his cheek. "Soon, baby. I promise."

He merely nodded. "I know."

"We'll really settle down and get started when I'm less busy with work."

Those words made Barry pause. "Oh yeah. I meant to ask. How is filming going?"

"Same as ever, I guess," she lied. "Even after the freeze, nothing's changed."

Her words stung his heart like barbed wire. Again, she was outright lying. Clyde had said she hadn't been there to film in weeks. What was going on?

"Is Clyde glad to be back to work?"

"Who knows with him? The guy's never shown an ounce of happiness a day in his life. I just do my job and don't make conversation."

There went the possibility that she was just filming at another studio. She really was lying. She was sitting here, on his couch, telling him lies directly to his face.

He felt his heart beat quicker. The air felt heavier. This had never happened before. In all their seven years of marriage, Suzanna had never lied to him. The two of them had been completely open and honest, and they discussed any major developments or changes immediately. Suzanna loved being fucked, but she kept her extramarital activities to acting. Off the set, Barry was her only lover.

Or at least, so he hoped. Now, he wasn't sure what to believe.

Why was his wife lying? And more, what was she doing with the time she claimed to be spending behind the camera? He felt alarmed, hurt, but he wouldn't assume the worst . . . not yet. He had more faith in Suzanna than that.

But whatever was going on, he hoped that it would end. Soon.

"Hey, baby?" she suddenly said to him. "Didn't you hear me?"

"Huh? What? Sorry, I drifted off," Barry responded blankly.

"I said that we could roleplay tonight, like we did when you were practicing to fuck your Mom. You can cum inside me all you want, and call me 'Sis'."

Despite his rather sudden and dour mood shift, that idea did make Barry's cock stay perfectly erect. He decided to play Suzanna's game for now. He decided to trust his wife, and let her get whatever was going on out of her system before jumping to the wrong conclusions.

"You got it, baby," Barry said, the two of them standing from the sofa hand-in-hand. "Now get to that bed so we can make like Cleopatra and Ptolemy."

She smiled slyly. "Ptolemy XIII or Ptolemy XIV?"

He smacked her ass hard. "God, I love it when you out-geek me."

******

The next day, when Barry mentioned that he and his sister were going to a shooting range, Suzanna asked to come along. She said that she'd done some shooting with her father before when she was young, and she wanted to take the opportunity to meet her sister-in-law. Barry shrugged and said what the hell.

Suzanna and Imani got along swimmingly, and Barry could tell by his wife's body language that she found the other woman attractive. Their conversation was full of girl talk—Imani's interest in men, her plans for children, comparing body secrets, turn-ons, etc . . . but Barry knew Suzanna was fishing for information to assist with his seduction. This wasn't the first time she'd done so. Suzanna was a master of seduction herself, having taught Barry most of what he knew in fact, so this was child's play to her.

In the years they'd been married, Barry had come to learn that a wife was the best possible "wingman" one could ever have.

On top of that, Suzanna seemed to be having a lot of fun at the range. She wasn't as rusty as she thought she'd be . . . she actually hit the target dead center twice, while Barry could barely even get his shots to hit the scoring zone at all. Imani, of course, had no problems whatsoever, what with military training and all. Still, a good time was had by all and Barry had to admit that holding a gun gave him endorphins not far from working out or even sex.

After a few hours, Suzanna bid the two of them farewell, saying that she had a shoot to go to. Barry made a note to call the studio to confirm his wife's story. He hated this—treating her like a criminal—but after catching her in lies, what choice did he have?

After that, Barry and Imani went for a movie and dinner. While they walked or dined together, Barry couldn't help but take note at how many heads they turned. Not just amongst whites, but black people as well. Of course, strangers had no way of knowing that they were family—not that that mattered, with Barry's intentions—so most of them assumed that they were an interracial couple out on a date.

For the first time, Barry realized how strong the taboo still was . . . even in a huge city like Los Angeles.

When they were done for the day, and Barry's limo dropped her off, and on the drive home, he discreetly made a call to Clyde to find out if Suzanna had been working. Again, Clyde said he hadn't heard from her. And again, when Barry got home, Suzanna lied to him.

This was beginning to piss him off. But still, he played it cool.

The next couple of days, Barry needed to go back to Chicago to take care of business and spend time with his children, which worked out because Imani wanted to do a bit of sightseeing and apartment hunting on her own. He wished her luck and caught a flight to Chicago, where he met with his mother, her personal slave Emily, his new servant, Kitten, and his wonderful nine children.

It was times like this that reminded Barry how good life was.

In private, Barry and Ariadne discussed how things were going with the 'Service', the online brothel she ran with all twelve of her female submissives. She said that business was doing quite well, and she was amazed how much more money she made with this operation than with her old home décor business. She felt like she'd made the right decision in swapping careers, and being a Mistress made her feel more sexy and confident than she'd ever been. Barry noticed the brightness in her eyes and said that she'd never looked more beautiful to him, either.

"Just be careful," he told her. "Remember, you're not a 'madame'. You're a domme. They're not prostitutes, they're submissives. You merely arrange dates for them when possible. We're really skirting the law here."

"Yes, sir," she said with a reassuring smile.

Barry's eyes turned tender, remorseful. "I'm sorry to ask you all to even do this, but I need you to—"

"It's okay, Master," Ariadne said, gently caressing his face. "We know what we're doing."

"I'm just saying, my dear Slut . . . Thornton is still on our ass, so watch yourself."

"I know, Master," Ariadne told him, frowning at the mention of Thornton's name.

Gently, Barry took her hand. "I'll do something about him, I swear."

She beamed. "I know you will, Master."

Barry fucked all three women that night, cumming in each at least twice. This was his first opportunity to get to know Kitten intimately, so he appointed Ariadne as Alpha Sub and used Emily's machines to keep the new submissive bound and exposed. The master then watched as Ariadne took control and directed Emily in teasing Kitten's flesh. It came to be found that the teen was a total pain slut, probably because of the abuse she'd gone through from her parents. Pain seemed to push her deep into subspace, and she tended to revert back into a childish demeanor. She would remain in subspace throughout, even if Barry fucked her until he came in her pussy.

But when he was finished, Kitten would gaze into his eyes and say, "I love you, Master."

After four days, Barry left the trio and his litter of pups and headed back to Los Angeles, where his wife and sister waited. He spent the next two days with mostly with Imani, and Suzanna was still MIA most of the time with no truthful explanations for her absences. Because of this, Barry started to bond further and further with his sister in a very short amount of time. When she informed him that she'd found an apartment and would be staying in LA permanently, he was ecstatic.

"You wouldn't happen to have any job openings with your company, would you?" She paused briefly. "I mean behind the camera. I'm still too camera shy to put out, I'm afraid."

Barry chuckled. "You wanna work for a porn studio?"

She shrugged. "Why the hell not? If it's good enough for my little brother, it's good enough for me, right?"

He beamed. "I can have my people set something up for you for sure."

"Bitchin'," she cheered with a toothy grin. "This could be very exciting."

******

Then something very strange happened.

About two months later, Barry was at home eating breakfast with his wife when they got a call. Suzanna leaped out of chair to answer before Barry could move, as opposed to the way she usually allowed him to answer it as the master of the house. After answering, whoever was on the other line must have asked for Barry, so she handed the line to him.

"Hello?" he answered.

"Good morning, Master," Kitten's voice said on the other end.

"Oh, hi, Kitten," he responded jubilantly. "How's my newest cum slut doing?"

She hesitated on the other line. "U-Um, well, I . . ."

Barry could hear Ariadne's voice in the background saying, "Go on tell him!"

Kitten hesitated yet again, and he could tell her breathing was becoming more excited.

"Kitten," he stated sternly. "Is there something you need to say to me?"

"Master . . ." she began meekly. ". . . I-I'm pregnant."

Barry stood from his chair and cheered. "That's wonderful, Pet! I'm glad to hear it!"

Her tone perked up. "S-So, you want me to keep it, Master?"

"What, are you kidding!? Of course I do!" he exclaimed. "You take very good care of my child and the body it's inside, you hear me? They're both my property and I will be very displeased if harm comes to either."

Suzanna perked up at those words, and Barry smiled at her. She, however, didn't return the gesture.