Extending the MILF List Ch. 26

Past the wreck, the silence was heavy and I spoke into it. "We are almost to the condo." I glanced at the mirror and found Sara wasn't rubbernecking at the wreck any longer. She was sort of gazing past me through the windshield. "I offered the condo to the team, to your mother and the other...." I almost said "MILFs" but stopped myself and veered into a better term. "...sponsors. I have a friend who has a condo next to mine and the Goshawks can use both...not enough beds but room enough to be comfortable. I think they may do it. I'll get my pound of flesh though." I said with a wicked grin I intended to be amusing. Sara did not get the joke.

"What do you mean?" She asked, meeting my eyes on the mirror.

"Oh, I am going to fuck the team this week. So maybe I mean it will work out for me." The words danced out into the world like faeries tossing pixie dust and I had one of those moments when I wished I could rewind. No such luck, but luck of a different kind!

"Oh my god...if you fuck them like you did me, we'll take the tournament hands down!" Sara tittered.

I was so nonplussed I couldn't even speak for a moment and the conversation flowed on without me, to my small relief, I admit. "Anyone in particular whose game needs a boost?" I asked soberly.

Sara only laughed but it was a sort of knowing laugh. Whatever fissure in the fabric of space-time had been occurring in the backseat closed up and moved on and things seemed to return to normal.

Mavis asked about their prospects in the tournament and the lurid discussion of submission lurched away from Sonny and his prospects. My mind, however, was a whirl. One delicious inspiration led right to another! The idea that my dear sisters were all desirous of not just submission itself but humiliation too fired my imagination in a way that left me driving breathless, which on slick roads is hardly a good idea. I let the chatter flow around me, happy to focus on driving but the import of this conversation was not lost on me. Maybe that was a leap of logic or wishful thinking but I wanted to be a genius in that and clung fast to the idea. My sisters, all wanting submission like Pet described it, and humiliation to boot! That idea just wouldn't leave my brain!

The move into the condo was pretty painless. It was chilled but not frozen. I showered cold and by the time I found clothes and was dressed, it was time to be going. I told Mavis we had a full review of her duties pending but I had to dot some 'i's first. I left Pet and Sara to their own devices, worried only a little at their exchange of ideas. I resolved in that moment that fearing the truth was the door to disaster and I'd not do that. If they talked, and one got a weird idea, I'd deal with it. That felt just like confidence.

I drove to The Lion and Lamb in a sort of haze. I kept hearing Pet...er...Tracie whoever the hell she was while talking about humiliation and how some people needed it before they respect you. I'd never wanted to use fear to get what I wanted, and you know people fear humiliation itself as much as pain. I parked. I confess I sat there an eon, well, it seemed like forever but I doubt any bugs got pregnant in that time. I was thinking about my sisters and how they had always treated me like this little twerp they could order around and coddle then scorn whenever they wanted and it made me sick to my stomach, what I was thinking. The ambush was the latest in a long line of such actions, how they acted like they cared about lil bother but in reality, they were lacking a father, someone to make them toe the line. That thought right there terrified me. I am just being honest because when I looked around I didn't see anyone but me to do that for them. This Howard? Did he give a rat's cigar butt about them or was he just dipping his 500 mile wick in my sisters cause he could and they wanted that because our father died soon after I was born? Could I ignore that and just hand then off gratis? Or did I need to humiliate them to make them feel like I was that father figure they lost or never had?

I shuddered. What sense did that make?

When things like this, out of a dark past, when they bubble to the surface, you know something serious is going on, some shift in the world that leaves you breathless. I thought of pet and her there on her knees, glug glug glugging on my cock after I'd mounted her, used her, fucked her, and how she talked about that moment, like it was the best thing that ever happened to her, a high point, not the most disgusting moment of her life. You know what? I decided two things right then. I didn't know anything for sure and whatever had happened to me in the past six months could not be undone. The toothpaste genie could not be stuffed back into Pandora's box.

Sonny was changing and had changed. I sat in that freezing fucking car thinking two other things...I was on a roll! I had to humiliate my sisters, in public...and the other made me nutzo crazy...that I had no idea how to do that! I had no raw material to make a plan to break them of the habit of dancing little bother around like a puppet on a string! Oh, once I had this fucking thought and just when I thought things couldn't grow any more stranger, this thought made me feel better, which was really strange!

If, now, I say, if! If I am going to find a lay down assistant for Hassum, arrange Alissa for Jamie St. Vincent, keep helping Sid Kingston and to this I added whatever dark designs Mr. Blue had for me which was bad enough but then, another thought accosted me...and here I nearly crawled out of my own skin, give Ahmay Alan what she needed...to do all this or even part of it...I couldn't have my sisters mocking me behind my back or telling everyone, or anyone that they knew better what Sonny Duncan should be doing than Sonny Duncan knew himself!

Some guys seem to pop out of that pink tunnel brimming with confidence and all the savoir faire they need in life but not me. I envy them. They know shit and they don't mind acting on what they know without any consideration of the foundation of that knowledge. I ain't saying they aren't rational, just, if you press them, they cannot explain what they do, why they do it or how it happens to go this way or that way for them. They just ride the wave and hope they can get back to the surface when they lose the board. One time in a hundred, they ride the surf board to the beach and end up standing before some admiring gorgeous female who drops her jaw, her top and then her knees spread wide and they live happily ever after. Not my destiny and in that moment I knew I'd always have angst dangling around my neck like a St. Christopher's medal reminding me that this was me. Looking back, that moment alone in the February darkness in the Chrysler was the real beginning of the journey for me. Before that, I'd been enjoying the marketing materials but when I opened the door of my car and walked into The Lion and the Lamb, my journey began.

When I pulled open the door to the restaurant, it was with equal parts trepidation and resolve. Courage they say, is what you use when you take action even while you are terrified, not the idiocy of having no fear at all...so I guess I was one courageous motherfucker in that moment.

They were there, sitting in chairs, stockinged knees together, hands folded on their fabulous thighs, eyes turning to find me all together like a precision team...my sisters three. They looked askance at me, inquiring and hopeful in a way I'd never focused on before, expectant expressions I'd seen before but never took seriously because it was always so fleeting. This time, however, it seemed to linger in a way that made me feel differently under their sisterly gazes. I patted the air between us. "Stay." I said like I was speaking to a group of well-trained puppies. I cruised past them to find one of the waitstaff.

His name tag said "Maurice" but he looked more like "Murray" to me. "I need a table so I can sit my sisters, my three bitch sisters across from me so I can keep an eye on them. Can you help me out there?"

The guy was gay, I could tell at a glance. He looked me up and down like I was a prime cut. I may be cut but prime is in the eye of the beholder, right? He hesitated and I took out a hundred dollar bill, the last in my kitty, and offered it to him. He covered the hand holding it with his hand and when it left mine, the bill was gone. He scanned the place. When he turned back to me he had this glint in his eyes.

"I am bored tonight, handsome, but if you tell me a lurid secret to spark it up, I will take good care of you."

I held his eyes for a moment, steady, unwavering. "I fucked all three of them, my sisters three, and I might have them blow me at the table so select it accordingly." I smirked a little at the shock on his face. "I presume female lips don't fit on your menu? Well, to be clear, mine don't either."

His eyes went all wide and round and then he looked away. Back to scanning the room, he pointed at a couple small tables along the wall with a bench seat and chairs. He didn't reference them. "You have mated with them all but do tell me they aren't really your sisters!"

"Sorry, buddy, my loving sisters all three...they are great fucks by the way." I felt like I was spitting a chaw of tobacco onto the alter in a church. I'd never before been so utterly dismissive of my sisters' precious dignity in such a cavalier manner. I growled around the clawing guilt. "That table would be fine...I trust the 'reserved' sign is for me?" I followed Maurice to the three little tables and watched him snatch the signs away.

"I'll make other arrangements for those reservations." He said. "Nothing a blow job won't solve, not that you'd know, I suspect." He turned away or tried to.

I grasped him by the upper arm and he twisted to look at me and I swear, there was love in his eyes. "I'll bring them in...does the management get dizzy if they see flesh or displays of sexual misconduct not fitting for Mass?"

He shook his head, mute, staring at my hand gripping his arm.

"What about you? Would you help if I need it? Listen and not interrupt when I discuss things with my erstwhile bitch sisters?"

His eyes rose to meet mine finally and he shivered a little. "Erstwhile?" He lisped. "You don't know what that means, do you?"

"It means they will be my sisters but the bitch behavior will no longer be tolerated. I intend to start that lesson tonight, if you care to participate, it might be fun." I really was talking through my hat then because I had little idea of what I was going to do or how to do it but I had this feeling of calm flush through me when I released his arm and he didn't flutter away.

Maurice nodded. "I said I was bored, even busy as it is, but I think you may be just the antidote I prayed to God would appear to get me through this day. I have just had...."

I held up my hand. "Save it for your therapist, I don't give a shit...you want to help me...train...three sisters to a new world order or not?" I was only speaking the truth. I had this feeling that I'd manage it just fine, using whatever came to hand.

Maurice nodded. "Oh my, yes. I think tonight, I'd do anything for you." He did his unctuous best to impose his hopes and dreams on my schedule.

I shook my head. "Just stay available and do as I ask, that will be plenty. No freelancing or you'll fuck me up."

"Can't have that!" He said, lisping. "I think it may be a pleasure...and oh, I had an older sister and if you manage to bring your bitches to heel...I'll be on your side the whole way!" He turned to the tables. "I'll scooch them together, you go bring in the family."

I left him there humping the tables together. I had no idea what I'd do next but I felt I had an ally or at least a foil to work with in unctuous Maurice. He really was too pretty to look at. Made my cornea's ache. I walked out to where the girls were sitting and stopped at Georgia's knee. "I have us a table." They all three stood together, like some choreographed action too perfect to be happenstance. I turned and wended my way through the hustle and bustle of the Saturday night crowd to the table. Maurice had indeed "scooched" the tables together to make a long one with three chairs facing the bench seat. He'd laid three place settings facing the wall with the chairs, and one on the middle table for the bench. It was just as I wanted it. Good man, Maurice.

I slid into my place and my blisters glared at me and pulled out their own chairs and sat down, all in a row, Georgia to my left, then Dalia and Tawny on my right. I had a moment then thinking that I had three pretty fucking hot sisters and flashed on the various times I'd mounted them. I felt a twinge at the pending trade then and put it away. This was their doing and they'd have to live with it.

"You've been traded." I said into the fidgety silence. I left the elaboration off for the moment.

"What do you mean, 'traded'?" Georgia asked, giving me her best baleful stare. Dalia's was the real thing and Tawny just looked mystified.

I was about to disclose the arrangements but Maurice arrived and did the specials and took the drink order. He left and Dalia regarded me with a sort of curious, considering gaze. "You know, Sonny, that a real man would have ordered our drinks for us." She said in that musing voice that made me nervous, like the Eden snake discussing the apple on the menu.

"A real man? So I am not a real man?" I returned as casually as I could even though I felt this burning fury, not at her so much as that I'd never challenged my sisters' presumptive right to manage things for me, to dismiss me, to discredit or doubt and critique me. I quelled it with a dousing logic asserting that I was done with that and that I'd change that dynamic myself. I had no idea of the help I'd get.

"Sonny, if you were a real man, you'd humiliate us." Dalia said. Georgia and Tawny looked at her like she'd grown horns.

"Dally? What the fuck?" Georgia growled. "You can be humiliated, I'll pass."

"No. He traded us all to Howard. He just said so." Dalia said, her dark eyes fixed on me. I couldn't tell if she was angry or just focused. "Sonny has done something we need to know about, haven't you, Sonny? We were assuming one of us would go to his place to stay and then the other and the other, each in turn but that's not what you did is it? You traded us three to him for Mavis, like we are just one third of her value to you!"

Oh fuck me! Leave it to the accounting bitch to turn this into a balance sheet issue! Well, even if I didn't anticipate this objection, I did have the solution all neatly arranged to answer my sister. "Hardly. Howard has two daughters. I arranged for him to trade them to me with Mavis...they are due to arrive later this week. So, three for three, that's a good trade I think."

I confess, the shock on Dalia's face was something to behold. Then it was gone. "You got him to say Barbara and Carrie Anne will fuck you?" She asked. The skepticism in her voice made me chuckle.

"They told him they would this afternoon and he called to verify with me. It's a done deal. You three sluts have been traded."

Georgia and Tawny looked past Dalia's clouding umbrage with what appeared to be anticipation. I don't know what Howard offered them but I thought they might come to regret being traded. He struck me as a one-trick pony. But spread legs are spread legs and when the cunt is doing all the thinking, it's not much different then the little head syndrome in the male of the species.

Dalia snorted. "Not like you can actually trade us though. It's more like we own you and trade you around. Until you know how to handle us, this will never make sense."

I was immediately suspicious. Her words were provocative in that they fit the situation as I understood it just too neatly. But you know what, sometimes things are neat. Not often, mind you, but sometimes...and it's foolish not to accept that when it happens. The reason we so often ignore such serendipitous situations is it tends to make us blindly optimistic in the face of the far more complicated cases that need more work. Learning to not lose your shit over good fortune and project that PollyAnna view onto everything else is a good lesson. I wasn't overly subtle but I managed to step deftly into the moment, a bit at least.

"So? I have to humiliate you?"

Dalia was nodding even under Georgia's glare and Tawny's hungry eyes.

"To trade us away, you have to own us, use us, make us dance to your fiddle. Like you can do that. Ha! Howard may get us but it won't be like we were really traded, this was my idea and you are just doing as you were told."

I was as aghast as Georgia was. Tawny's eyes dropped to her hands in her lap and went silent, as she usually did when Dalia and Georgia clashed. I could see Georgia swelling up to explode like a cartoon volcano. I had to stop that or this would go into the ditch right quick.

"Georgia, stand up please."

Her head swiveled to look at me with laser-like intensity. The moment teetered. I waited. I held her gaze, keeping as bland an expression as I could manage under her lava-eyed stare. Then it happened. She blinked. She stood, slipping to the side off the chair and standing in the space at the end of the table. I had this tingling feeling that things were clicking together in a way I never imagined possible. I scooted past the end of the table so I sat on the bench beyond it. I pointed to the spot just before my knees.

"There." I said casually. Georgia moved to stand there. Her eyes blazed but it wasn't the Satan-hearted rage of our past...this was something different. "I told you to wear stockings and garters but no panties, did you pass that along to your sisters?"

My sexy sister licked her lips and nodded.

"Let's see if you obeyed. Lift your skirt for me, over your hips, above your waist please." My voice was way calmer than I felt.

"Why?" She said immediately and I felt the flash and flush of all of our shared past rush through me.

"Because I said so." I said in the same even tone. I glanced at Dalia and she was nodding. First Pet, then my own cogitations and now this. Three's a crowd but as validation, it can be pretty impossible to ignore. When Georgia made to turn her head to scan the room for observers I growled, "Eyes on me, Georgia." Her reaction was immediate, snapping her head around to look at me. "Skirt. Up." I said softly.

With no further ado, my eldest sister stooped a bit, took firm hold of the hem of her short skirt and lifted it up, exposing the garter straps first, her hips and then her cunt to me. Then she dropped it, dismissing my view. I shook my head.

"Did I tell you to drop it?"

Georgia's head shook. Her sudden compliance seemed, impossible but there it was. Professor fucking Milsovich knew what he was talking about. Some things only become obvious once you know to look for them I guess.

"Well? Up." I said.

She bent more this time, grasped her skirt and lifted it up, exposing her cunt to me again, and her fine ass to the room. I saw it then. The merest twinkle in the plush folds of her cunt. I took it as clear invitation and touched her there with two fingers, fluttering her cunt folds until I found her entrance and thrust into her My sister groaned, deep behind her fabulous tits. Her hips retreated from me and I hesitated to follow her retreat but then she reversed course and thrust herself onto my fingers with surprising force from a standing start. She groaned loudly this time.

"Oh my god!" My sister groaned.

I laid a hand on her bare hip. "No. Don't move, my slut." I said the words with a cringe waiting to shield me from the reaction. This was a moment unlike any other even with all the use I had made of her. This was me controlling my eldest sister, the fiery reality that had terrorized me in the past suddenly compliant and obedient rather took my breath away.