Getting Mum's Approval

This is the long-awaited (by those who were waiting for it) continuation of 'Fun With Slaves'. Sorry it took so long.

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Darreen and Shayla were nervous. They would never have admitted it, especially to each other, but they were. Today was a big day, the culmination of years of work and planning. If all went well, they would be allowed to marry the men in their lives, the one they had spent so long enslaving and training. But if things went badly, it would be back to the drawing board, looking for new males to capture.

Today was the day their mothers would give their approval. Or not.

The girls looked each other up and down. They were standing in Shayla's bedroom. Shayla was dressed in a tangerine tank top, skintight black jeans, and black ankle-high boots. Darreen was dressed identically except for the colours. Her top was dark blue, her jeans were white, and her boots were tan. Their dark blonde hair shone in cascades down their backs. Their bright red nails were perfectly manicured. Their makeup was immaculate.

"How do I look?" Shayla asked.

"Like a Goddess," came Darreen's reply. "Me?"

"Aphrodite on Earth." The girls grinned for a second, but soon became serious. They both knew their own appearances weren't the important thing. They turned to their men.

The men looked very much like helpless captured slaves, which is exactly what they were. They were naked apart from restraints which consisted of handcuffs pulled up their backs by strong chains connected to thick leather collars, shackles on their ankles with short chains which would allow them to walk but not run, big red ballgags, chastity cages which were clicked into place but not locked, and scrotum collars attached to chain leashes. Their beards had been neatly trimmed and shaved at the sides, as had their pubic hair. Their fingernails and toenails had been manicured. They had been given a light touch of self-tanning lotion to give their normally pale bodies a hint of colour. They had not been allowed to drink anything for twelve hours, to make them slightly dehydrated and hence give them better muscle tone.

There was nothing else the girls could think to do.

Now was the moment of truth. The girls looked back at each other.

"Ready?" asked Darreen?

"As I'll ever be," Shayla replied.

Shayla took hold of the leash attached to Stephen's scrotum. Darreen grabbed the leash on Matthew. After a final nod to her fellow mistress, Shayla led the way out the door with her slave trotting behind.

Darreen made to follow, but her slave didn't move. He remained fixed to the spot, a look of fear in his eyes. Darreen gave the leash a sudden forceful tug. Her slave let out a muffled yelp and stumbled forward. She stood in front of him. He was noticably taller than her, but with her boots and him being barefoot, they were almost nose-to-nose. Her eyes blazed with fury.

"Don't you dare embarrass me today, slave," she hissed. She didn't make any specific threats. She rarely ever did. If she decided to punish him, she reserved the right to do whatever she felt necessary at the time. He knew he would be in a world of pain, and that was all he needed to know.

Darreen gave another tug on the leash and walked towards the door. This time, Matthew followed obediently. They caught up with Shayla and Stephen, who were waiting in the short hallway outside. All four continued into the living room, where the mistresses' mothers were waiting.

The mothers were sitting on the couch by a small coffee table, sipping sparkling white wine. They had made no special effort in their appearance, and were dressed in comfy blue jeans and white tee-shirts. As the girls and slaves entered, Shayla's mother (SM) was pouring herself a refill while Darreen's mother (DM) was relating an anecdote from her recent past.

"... so I told him that if it happened again, I'd have him circumcised. That ratcheted his obedience level right up, let me tell ... oh, here they are."

The girls were occasionally mistaken for twins, and their mothers showed a similar strong resemblance. They may have been carrying an extra kilogram or two compared to their daughters, and their hair wasn't as long, but they filled their jeans and tees in a way certain to evoke lustful thoughts in any non-gay man with a pulse.

Any man who wasn't currently preoccupied with dying from humiliation at being presented in chains, gag, and scrotum leash, that is.

From the girls' point of view, SM was on the right and DM on the left. Each girl stood in front of her mother with her slave on her left, leash in hand.

"So, this is them, are they?" asked SM. Grammar wasn't her strong point.

"Yes, Mum," said Shayla.

"The ones you want to marry?" asked DM.

"Yes, Mum," said Darreen.

The mothers sat back and gave their own daughter's prisoner a long appraising stare. Then they crossed stares and appraised the opposite captive.

"Give us a twirl," suggested SM eventually.

The girls held their ends of the leashes above head height, so the slaves could perform a pirouette. Obediently, although somewhat awkwardly due to their restraints, the boys slowly turned through three hundred and sixty degrees. Darreen's mum offered her assessment first.

"Hmm. I would say that mine has a better body overall, but yours has a nicer arse."

"I concur. They were also quick to obey, which is good."

The girls exchanged glances. So far, so good.

The slave exchanged glances. This was the most humiliating experience either of them could imagine, but at least it was shared. Neither knew how they could have coped with such an ordeal alone. What they didn't know, but doubtless suspected, was that the ordeal was only going to get worse.

"Remove the gags, please" DM suggested.

The girls quickly complied. There were a couple of wet pops as balls left mouths. The men knew not to speak unless spoken to, so kept quiet.

SM addressed her daughter's slave directly. "Say 'Ask the master to pass a banana'."

"Ask the master to pass a banana."

DM spoke to her own daughter's slave. "Now you."

"Ask the master to pass a banana."

"Hmm..." said SM. "Standard middle-class accents."

"Yes," DM agreed. "Maybe a slight hint of south-east on the 'banana' from both of them. Nothing wrong with that, of course." She looked at her daughter. "Tell me, Darreen, what's the worst thing about him?" When her daughter hesitated, being unprepared for the question, she added, "Come on girl. I don't believe he's perfect. What's his worst imperfection?"

"Well... sometimes... he cums a bit too early. So I have to punish him."

"Is this true, boy?"

Matthew gulped. "Yes, Ma'am. It's true. I try my best, I really do, but sometimes... my best isn't good enough." He lowered his eyes.

"Shayla," SM interjected, "what's the worst thing about your intended slave/husband?"

Shayla thought fast. "He can be a bit disobedient at times. But that's my fault," she added, "for being too lenient with him."

"Is this true?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Stephen admitted. "I mean, it's true that I can be disobedient. But it's not my mistress's fault. It's my fault for taking advantage of her mercifulness." He paused slightly before adding, "I really don't deserve such a kind owner."

The mothers exchanged smiles, before DM spoke for them both.

"We've heard enough. You can put the gags back." In a few moments, balls had been replaced in mouths and plastic straps snugly fastened behind heads.

The mothers both took long sips of sparkly.

"I believe," SM spoke up when she had finished her sip, "that leaves just one thing to check."

"I believe you're right." DM agreed. "When you're ready, girls." She nodded downwards, towards her daughter's slave's groin.

The girls didn't need any further explanation. They unlatched the chastity cages and removed them with a flourish.

"Viola!" said Darreen.

"Tah-dah!" said Shayla.

The mothers knew that all good slaves are aroused by humiliation, so they were pleased to see two penises stand immediately to attention. They each grabbed one by the head and pulled it this way and that, examining it all around. Then they swapped. After a while, Darreen's mother offered her assessment.

"Yours is a bit thicker, mine's a bit longer."

"I concur. Both look like good quality."

The boys might have appreciated this praise more under slightly less embarrassing circumstances.

DM looked at her daughter. "Do you swap?"

Darreen didn't have to ask what she meant. "Ah, yes?" she reluctantly admitted, unsure if this was a good or bad thing. "Sometimes. Quite often, actually. A lot."

"It's good to have variety," Shayla interjected. "There's nothing wrong with that is there?"

"Indeed there isn't," SM put in. "In fact it's good to hear you often swap. It means you each have a high opinion of the other's property, which means, effectively, your men each get two recommendations instead of just one."

The girls relaxed. Their chests swelled a little with pride.

"But it stops when you are ready to start families," DM said firmly, looking each girl in the eye in turn. "Every man has a right to know his children really are his own. Even a slave."

The girls nodded seriously. Just because they were ruthless slave-takers didn't mean they were missing a moral compass.

"Which leaves one final question," DM went on. "Daughter mine, do you love him?"

The question caught Darreen completely off guard. She squirmed uncomfortably as she realised all eyes were on her. She pulled herself together, straightening her spine and staring back at her mother.

"Yes. I love him. It's a stupid question. Why would I enslave a man I didn't love?" To anyone who knew her, this was a breathtaking admission, renowned as she was for treating men like livestock.

SM broke the ensuing silence. "And you, my only child. Do you love the man you are asking to keep forever?"

Unlike her friend, Shayla didn't hesitate. "I love him with all my heart. He is my Earth and my Universe. Every moment I spend with him is the greatest privilege. There is not a moment that passes in which I do not consider myself the most fortunate woman who has ever lived, to have been able to capture the world's most wonderful man."

As the others digested this, Darreen leaned across and whispered into her friend's ear, "Fuck, you can be a poetic bitch sometimes." And they smiled at each other.

SM spoke for the mothers. "We are both very pleased to hear that. Some mistresses think love doesn't count in a slavery relationship, but they're wrong. Seriously wrong. If you capture a man, and think you can keep him forever without loving him, you will both end up miserable, sooner than later." She paused, then went on. "Well, I've seen and heard enough. Shall we put them out of their misery?"

The question was directed at DM, who shrugged. "If we must, I suppose." She paused. The pause dragged on. At the point where she knew her own daughter was on the point of throttling her, she finally relented. "Yes, you can marry him. Of course you can."

Darreen threw herself into her mother's arms. "Thanks, Mum! You'll never regret this!"

Shayla and her mother exchanged stares. Her mother didn't keep her waiting long.

"You may marry him. I wish you a lifetime of happiness together."

"Thanks, Mum." Despite her poetic inclination, Shayla wasn't very demonstrative in some ways. She quietly kissed her mother's cheek, and allowed her mother to kiss her back.

"That's that then." DM stood up and drained her glass. We'll leave you lot alone to have celebratory sex.

"We can start the wedding planning later," SM added, as she also stood and finished her drink.

As the two of them headed out the front door, the girls could hear DM's voice, "Ah, young love. I remember my first slave..." And the door closed behind them.

There was a moment of silence, which Darreen broke with a word for her slave.

"That was your last chance of freedom, boy. You're mine now, forever. No escape."

Shayla grinned at her own captive. "No escape."

Five minutes later, the girls were seated on the couch. They were still wearing their tops, but were naked from the waist down. Their slaves knelt in front of them, chained but ungagged, their heads buried between their mistresses' legs and performing oral sex. The girls were so high from the day's events, they achieved explosive orgasms in record time.

Life, they decided, couldn't possibly get any better than this.