Barry's Queens Ch. 01


Barry's cock was already alive. Somehow, he could understand what Hasana was saying even if Imani hadn't been there. He may not have known Arabic, but he could always comprehend the language of lust.

For years, Barry dreamed of collaring an Arab woman. In many ways, they were forbidden fruit. And every man on the planet secretly wanted everything that he couldn't have. Even more than that, he loved Arabian women. Their beauty was renowned, and their loyalty to their men unparalleled.

He still yearned for an Arab pet in his "collection". He was a hedonist, of course. He couldn't help it.

Barry stood, staring deeply into Hasana's eyes. Gently, his hands squeezed her shulders. Warmly, he smiled.

"No. I will not collar you."

Hasana didn't need Imani to translate that first word. She understood it well enough. Imani also didn't need to translate the next word she spoke. "W-Why!?"

Barry drew a pronounced breath. God, looking at that beautiful woman . . . his cock struggled for control. But he needed his brain to win.

"Because, Hasana, as far as I'm concerned, you're still a slave."

She tilted her head questioningly to Imani. Her eyes turned back to Barry, and he motioned for her to sit.

"Hasana, the number one thing I believe in in this world is sexual freedom. I will never collar someone who feels forced to be with me or who feels that they have nowhere else to go. Every single person I have collared always had many other options before they came to me, and they will always have options should they choose to leave.

"Sex and power alone mean nothing to me—what's sexy to me is choice.

"Any woman who is mine has become so because I am her best choice out of many."

When this only fueled her confusion, he continued. "Imagine if you were in a beauty contest, Hasana. Would it mean anything to you if you were the only woman competing? Would you feel like you had accomplished anything at all if the judges had no one to pick but you?"

Imani explained, and then Hasana lowered her head and shook it.

"Then you understand my position. I cannot collar you, because doing so would be doing both of us a disservice. It would rob you of the freedom of choice. And it would rob me of any true meaning to my conquest."

Shame crept onto the girl's face as Imani translated for her. Trying to cheer her up, Imani put an arm around her.

"But . . . what will I do . . .?" Imani translated the girl's sobs.

Barry took her hand again. "You're going to get a job, continue your therapy, and go to school is what. Imani, does the Bureau have access to groups that can help? Do you have the resources to point her in the right direction?"

"Yes, of course."

"Then talk to whomever you need to and set it up. I want Hasana getting the best care possible. I'll even pay for up to five years of room and board to live anywhere she chooses, as well as any expenses for her education that aren't covered by grants, awards or scholarships. Is that clear?"

Imani was glowing. "Yes, Master!"

As Imani explained, Hasana's mouth fell, and Barry continued. "I don't ever want to hear you doubt yourself like that again, is that clear? I don't practice any organized religion, but I'm still believe there is a God, whatever name we choose to call Him. And I don't believe that any God as good as your Allah would ever abandon a smart, wonderful woman like you because of something so petty. I hope this isn't offensive . . . but if He would, then I say fuck Him and be happy for yourself.

"So I'll make you a counter offer, Hasana. In five years' time . . . or whenever you finish your degree, whichever comes first . . . if you still feel that you belong here, you can come back, and I will accept you with open arms. I will take you as a wife—in spirit, if not legally. And I will do my damnedest to give you as many of my children as I possibly can. I will make it my business to keep you pregnant at every damn opportunity.

"Is that acceptable to you?"

Hasana nodded and swallowed, trying her best to hide how tempted she was by the offer. "Yes . . ."

"Good," he said with a smile. Kissing Hasana quickly on the cheek, Barry stood and headed toward the door. "Imani, get her dressed and make sure she gets something to eat before she goes home. Then afterwards, come to me when you've got information on how we can set this all up."

"Yes, Master," Imani told him.

As Barry stepped through his office door, he heard a loud, Arabic accent cry, "THANK YOU!! ALLAH BLESS YOU!"

Barry took one last deep breath in the hall, feeling pretty good about his morals, but with a libido that was quickly growing frustrated. Trena, who had been standing in the hall awaiting him, stepped to his aid.

"You seem tense, Master. Is there anything I can do?"

When his ravenous eyes fell upon hers, she already knew.




Barry stared the machine that Emily and Ariadne had brought to his office, with the help of some of the male servants. It looked like it had been cannibalized from parts of a car engine, a mechanical bull, and a few other things he couldn't even begin to describe. Aside from a seat that was obviously meant for the user, it was impossible for him to make heads or tails of the damned thing. Mechanics were not part of his expertise.

"So what . . . what does it do?"

"You'll just have to find out, won't you, Master?" Ariadne cooed, still churning her hips in Barry's lap, letting her warm, soft ass rub itself all over her son's hips. As if to punish her for her little teasing, Barry gave her a hard slap on that gorgeous ass of his mother's, and she moaned deeply even as her pussy convulsed and she started cumming all over her son's cock.

"Oh, Gooood," she screamed. "Do it, please. Cum inside me, Barry. Mommy needs your cum!"

In a steady, loving rhythm, Barry's hips rose and fell—his long slick shaft almost dropping out of his mother's pussy, but then plunging back in deeply.

Ariadne whimpered. "I can't go on like this! I'll do anything you ask, and I'll accept any punishment for being so weak . . . but right now, I'm so worked up that I'll just die if I can't have your cum inside me!"

Barry chuckled. "Alright, Slut. I can't have you dying before my baby's born." He reached around and grabbed his mother's large, swollen tits as his hips sharply increased their speed. Ariadne's back fell upon her son's chest, fusing their bodies and their warmth together. With a solid grip on his mother's breasts, squeezing and pulling them to his own satisfaction, Barry started to pump closer to his own climax.

Ariadne, almost gone to pleasure and lust, barely opened one eye to look at her own slave, and spouse.

"Emily, come here and—aaaaaaah—lick Mistress's pussy—mnnngggh—and the Master's cock . . . until her pussy is full of his sperm," she commanded.

Emily was already moving before Ariadne's words finished. "As it pleases you, My Mistress."

Emily immediately fell to her knees and brought her lips to the magical point where mother and son met. Her tongue licked and traced upon both sexes, from cunt to cock and back again. One hand also fondled, caressed and stimulated the Master's balls while the other did the same to her Mistress's clit. The two bodies continued to slap together, and both mother and son muffled each other's cries with a steamy kiss.

Even as Barry felt it building in his balls, Ariadne could sense it and her body shoot with hot passion. Even Emily seemed aware of what was coming, her fingers acting as a catalyst to intensify the inevitable. Barry let it come—he let the release hit right at this moment, with his both his tongue and his mother's exploring each other, and his arms wrapped around her pregnant body to fondle her lactating tits. He picked this moment because it served to remind them both of all that belonged to him, and always would belong to him.

Barry's cum shot inside his mother's pussy, and she gasped as it coated her insides with its warm thickness. Normally at this point, Barry would keep it put to plug her up and make sure nothing leaked out, but that wouldn't have been fair. Ariadne was already pregnant, and Emily was there, gazing to his eyes and begging to let her taste them both.

He obliged, removing his cock from his mother's hole and letting his juices ooze into her inviting womb. Emily's tongue was there, desperate to catch every drop.

"Happy Birthday, Master," Ariadne again cooed, with much more exhausted breath. Barry responded by kissing her yet again.


"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MASTER!" A chorus of voices sang.

Barry's eyes shifted from person to person, staring at each of the twelve Sluts before him curiously. One of them handed him a large envelope, so full that it was actually heavy. He rose an eyebrow.

"You girls should know how much I hate reading paperwork," he scolded. "So someone needs to tell me what this is before I bother opening it."

Of all the girls, Chandra, Trena, Kitten, Shania, Amy, Rahel, Devorah, Consuela, Sonia, Anna, Veronika, and Jordana, Chandra seemed to be the least nervous. The gorgeous redhead had been a Slut long enough, and his reaction wasn't unexpected to her.

"It's . . . a new kind of contract, My Master," she said with a twinkle in her eye.

Curious, Barry finally chose to break the seal and see what lay inside. His hand caught a stack of papers, and he carefully read.

"Form of Name Change . . . Chandra Burrell . . . Garrett?!"

Grinning ear-to-ear, Chandra nodded. "Yes, Master."

He repeated. "Chandra Burrell Garrett?!"

Barry shuffled through the rest. "Gediki' Garrett. Trena Lin-Garrett . Devorah Garrett. Veronika Garrett. Jordana Garrett. Amy Kellogg-Garrett!?!"

The other girls smiled. "Yes, Master."

"Okaaaaay . . . what the eff is going on?"

The girls glanced at each other with a flash of wickedness churning in their eyes, moments before breaking into a fit of giggle.

"Well, naturally, we had all been thinking how wonderful it was to call you our Master, and how fantastic it feels to know how much you love each of us. But, we all know that as long as we live in this society that we will never be your wives. Not officially, anyway. But that doesn't mean we, personally, can't take it as far as possible. To show just how much we adore you, Master."

"So you all got your last names changed . . .?"

Again, they smiled. "Yes, Master."

"Even you, Amy? What about your husband?"

Amy Kellogg was one of the few women in Barry's stable that had been married before he collared her. That made their relationship particularly delicate. Still, being collared meant that Amy's pussy would never belong to her husband again so long as she wore it. Barry never, ever collared a woman unless she agreed that her pussy was his property from that moment on.

Otherwise, both Amy and her husband were free to what they chose, and Barry always made sure both spouses were happy. Danny sometimes seemed a bit jealous of Barry 's ownership of his wife, but jealousy was part of the cuckold life. Barry respected the man and his sacrifice. The least he could do was be sure he was well cared-for.

"Danny and I had been talking about this for weeks," Amy answered. "When I detailed the idea to him, and told him that I wanted to belong to you not just in body, but also in spirit, he had the biggest hard-on I'd ever seen. He's quite happy to be cucked to such a degree by a superior man, and I couldn't be more proud of him."

"If that's the case, then I am, too. All the same, I'll be sure to have a chat with him, Amy, to make sure that there won't be any hard feelings or misunderstandings."

"Of course, Master," she nodded. "I do love both of you, so I wouldn't expect anything less."

"We also talked it over with Suzanna, Ariadne and Emily, Master. Just to be sure," Chandra explained. "Since they already bear your name."

That was only technically true. Suzanna Garrett was Barry's wife, and his submissive. Ariadne Garrett was Barry's mother and his submissive. Emily Garrett was Ariadne's wife, but also his submissive's submissive. All three were both Garretts and his property.

"Ariadne, of course, thought the whole thing was 'kind of silly and a little weird', but she had no personal objections if you didn't," Chandra told him. "And Emily, of course, agreed with what her Mistress said. Suzanna was totally keen on the idea. She loved the thought of being part of a real harem. In fact, she—"

Trena elbowed Chandra sharply, cutting the redhead off.

"Oh, oops. I almost let that slip!" she corrected.

"I can't tell you enough how much this pleases me," he told them, intentionally ignoring that cryptic last statement. "I promise I will honor this gift, starting with a honeymoon for all of us. I'll take you anywhere the eleven of you can agree upon, and we'll have a formal wedding. If you wish to be my 'wives', then by all means. But we're going to do things the right way."

His eleven brides blushed.

"In that case, Master," Chandra began. Her voice almost seemed to have a hint of jealousy. "You'll want to see Suzanna's gift right away. If you liked this, you're going to love it."

"Yeah, no shit. After all of this, I'm even more hyped than ever."


"Master and Alpha Slut, I'll be just outside if you need anything. Also, Alpha Slut: you asked me to remind you to bring up certain matter with the Master during your meeting today."

"Oh! That's right! I did almost forget! Thanks, Marie!" Suzanna beamed.

Mariana gave her patented curtsey in reply. "That's why I'm here, ma'am."

The door closed and finally they were alone. Barry and Suzanna. Husband and wife.

Master and his favorite Slut.

Barry scooped his beloved into his arms and kissed her so deeply and powerfully that it conquered time. As the moment slowed, Suzanna went limp in his arms and gave herself to him immediately, letting go and becoming fully immersed in their unconditional love.

Finally, after that blissful eternity, their lips parted.

"My goodness, Sir. Do you kiss all of your wives like that?"

Barry chuckled. "Until a few minutes ago, I didn't know I had more than one."

She smiled wickedly. "You deserve no less, my love."

That made him happy. "So, before we begin, what was this business you wanted to bring up . . .?"

Suzanna shrugged. "It's nothing that can't wait until we—"

"If this subject is somewhat unpleasant, I'd rather get it out of the way now so I can end my birthday on a positive note. Now, tell me what's up. And that's an order, Slut."

"Yes, Master," Suzanna nodded. "It's . . . Carla."

One of the Master's newest Sluts, part of five girls he'd conquered in Venezuela months ago. Mariana had been part of that group, along with Sasha, Claudia and Abelina.

"What about her?"

"Well, she's . . . she's kind of being a bitch. She doesn't listen to any of the other Sluts, she doesn't do what I tell her, and she's constantly starting arguments with the rest of us over something petty, like politics. It's just . . . she really grates my nerves."

Barry listened to his wife's concerns. "I'll handle it."

His reassurance seemed to do the trick. "Thank you, Master. Just hearing you say that makes me feel ten times better."

With a chortle, he said, "See? Was that so hard? Now, if there's nothing else, let's move on to the good part."

"Yes, my Master . . . or should I say . . . my Lord."

Barry eyed her a moment. "'Lord'?"

"Mmmm-hmmmm," she cooed, a gentle finger searching the toned, masculine curves of his chest. Her other hand materialized from behind her back, as she presented her husband with an odd assortment of pamphlets, brochures and religious paraphernalia.

"Baby Farm, what is this . . .?" he looked over the material. "Did you join some sort of cult?"

"No, silly," she giggled. "I created one."

"What . . .?"

"Look at the name."

Barry took a closer look. "The . . . Orthopraxic Barrican Communion?! What?! Suze . . . you didn't . . ."

Her face lit jubilantly. "I did!"

"Suze, you named a religion after me?"

"I did!"

"Suze, I-I'm not a god."

"Who said you had to be one? I registered the Barrican Communion as an orthopraxic spiritual organization. In other words, rather than a common belief, it's common actions that design our faith. Actions like, you know, fucking our handsome Master and religious Lord as part of a proper, routine ritual."

Barry swept through his brown hair with a nervous palm. "I . . . I don't know about this, Suze . . ."

"You enjoy this, Master. I can see it in your eyes." A naughty smile curled. "You know that this very idea is turning you on. You like the thought of your cock being worshipped, don't you, honey? How does it feel to know that dozens of sexy, slutty followers will be dedicated to nothing less than fulfilling than your every sensual pleasure? That women will join seeking nothing but the anointment of your cock and the blessing that comes with carrying your child?"

Barry chuckled. "You know, you sound totally crazy."

"Yes, dear, I'm a cultist," she teased him back. "But come on, you know that the thought is driving you wild. And I did this for you, my love. Because you've taught all of us that the one thing we should never run from is what makes us happy, no matter how difficult or strange it seems. You, more than anyone else, understand that."

Barry ran his fingers again through his hair and laughed. "Jesus, Suze. I hate it when you're making more sense than me.

"Oh wait . . . am I even allowed to say 'Jesus' anymore?"

She shrugged. Summoning her inner bureaucrat, she added, "the OBC neither denies nor avows the existence of any deities or supernatural, metaphysical creatures or entities."

"You really are a crazy bitch, you know that?" Suzanna's grin widened as Barry kissed his wife. "Well, thank you, Suze . . . this gift is quite the pleasant surprise."

"Well, I have to give credit where it's due—this was also partly Mariana's idea. Make sure you keep that in mind the next time you . . . 'reward' her."

"I'll remember." He chuckled and she nodded. "Now bend the fuck over."

"Yes, my Lord," Suzanna purred. "And Master . . . I'm fertile tonight. Please bless me with your holy rod and anoint me carrier of your blessed child!"

"You are loving this, aren't you, you Slut?" Barry growled.

As reluctant as he was to admit it, the thought was intoxicating. An entire religion devoted to him—to his service and his manhood—along with an entire harem of women who were now, in every sense that mattered, his wives. Chandra had been right—this made their gift even better, because his Church would play by any rules he chose. If he wanted twelve wives, he got twelve wives. Or thirty. Or a hundred, if he wished.

More than ever, no law or taboo could contain Barry Garrett. Each step he took in exploration of fantasy took him further from the chains of reality. Further from society's concepts of morality, religion, law and order.

But he didn't care.

Long ago, he'd made a vow. He would always do what his heart told him to, and he'd never lie about what made him happy. And this made him happy. Rules and restrictions be damned. Only two things ever mattered: pleasing himself, and in doing so, spreading his pleasure exponentially to others.

As his cock sank into his wife's hot, pink flesh, he reminded himself of this fact. He reminded himself that this was only the beginning of things to come. Slowly, he fucked her, letting her body please him however he chose. And in doing so, his pleasure spread exponentially to his lover.

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