Her Baggage Delivered

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His father gone, a stepmother frees herself the son too.
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Troy was distraught when Lisa ditched him; he'd not known her that long, but had visions of grandeur over their budding relationship, and had masturbated daily over the thought of her allowing him to bed her. Now, here at the mall, and in front of several of her smiling female friends, she had taken a curt pleasure in dismissing him.

"You're just not up to my standards... your car's O.K. but you're cramping my style.. it's over." She left him crestfallen, and strutted confidently away on her heels, her friends giggling and glancing back with smug smiles as he stood, cut down, and discarded like the used coffee cups which rolled in circles between the shop-fronts.

He trudged back to the parking area and drove his car home, glancing wistfully at the empty passenger seat. He felt such a fool, and mulled over their last evening together at one of the bars in town, one of those few which were not so choosy about age, and was frequented by youthful people; he realised now she'd been a little off with him, and her eyes were elsewhere - he should have known, and now he knew. His eyes welled up, and he fought back his hurt.

He pulled up outside the house where he lived alone with his stepmother, went in, and sat long faced in a chair, staring at the wall. His stepmother, Marcia Hayes was a confident and independent woman who had inherited Troy as baggage when he was five years old; his birth mother had divorced his father a year earlier, citing adultery, and had departed with his younger sister, never to be seen again and leaving Troy with his father.

The boy did not suffer any feelings of loss, as he was constantly in the care of nannies and nurses employed at the home, his mother just another person who inhabited the house in his young eyes - he was equally distant and unattached to his father too, as he was farmed out to boarding schools when not in the care of those domestic assistants. Marcia had told him that his father had died when he was just eight years old, though Troy could not recall ever attending a funeral; he had certainly not been made aware of any grave or memorial, though neither could he remember a time before just he and his stepmother lived at the house.

Marcia was checking her shape in the bedroom mirror, snapping a black stocking to her garter belt, then smiling into the reflection with satisfaction as she added a little more red lipstick when she heard Troy arrive. She'd not expected him home this early, and grinned as she guessed on a probable reason for his arrival.

She adjusted the black pencil skirt she'd chosen to wear, stepped into her stilettos, and lifted her nose at the mirror as she passed it; she would be as matriarchal with him as ever, though he was now of an age whereby it was time he learned his true purpose in life, and would shortly be put to good use as was his father. Proud of the body she had kept in superb shape despite her years, she sauntered down the stairs displaying the provocative wiggle of her firm and rounded arse, which had captivated so many men whom Troy had no knowledge of.

She received a knowing glance from Beatrice, one of the more mature maids who was leaving the lounge after offering the despondent young man a coffee, which he'd gratefully refused, and returned the look with a smile as she entered the room. Troy didn't hear her enter, but was made aware of her presence by the waft of seductively sweet scent she used, lifting his head sheepishly to face her. She crossed her arms and avoided asking him directly about the sad face, wanting to hear him make some effort in offering an explanation.

"You're back early, I wasn't expecting you till much later." Troy's sadness was, begrudgingly lifted in part, the fact that she hadn't asked why he looked so lost made him a little indignant, so he tried to broach it as though he didn't care.

"Oh.. err..things didn't go to plan, I've err... finished with Lisa." A slight smirk graced Marcia's lips.

"You've finished with Lisa?.. I thought you were besotted with her, she was such a pretty and confident girl too, whatever made you change your mind?" He swallowed hard, determined not to show his stepmother any weakness in the masculine shell he tried to hide behind.

"It was... It was her idea, not mine." As he sat back and took a deep breath, looking like a child who'd had to admit to a prank, Marcia had to stop herself from letting out a contemptuous laugh. 'Good girl!' she thought to herself - as meek as he was, he was in need of being shown his place, and this incident would play him right into her hands.

"Oh.. so she dumped you... maybe she was a little too bold for you anyhow." Troy glared at her momentarily, before coming to his senses, though her smile told him that she had nothing but admiration for the girl; he'd been put in his place by her, and she wished she'd been there to witness it.

"You're so like your father, he needed strong women to take control of him, and it took him a while to get just what he wanted... when I wanted it." Troy felt a peculiar tingling at her words, the emphasis she put on 'I' gave him a strangely sexual excitement, and the likening of him to his father whom she'd belittled was somehow curiously attractive. Her grin remained as she continued.

"That car of yours was expensive, and being as you don't have anything else to do now that you've been jettisoned at the whim of a girl, you'll come with me to a friend's house - she'll have some chores that need doing. I was going to have you there next week anyhow, it's high time you had some purpose in life, and I know you'll learn to enjoy the company." Troy was both puzzled by this approach from a woman who he'd thought had seen him as no more than part of the furniture, and perplexed by his own feeling of obedience to what she asked. She clicked her fingers, and the tingling continued as she led him to her car.

Troy's mood was now diverted from one of immature grief at his put down by a girl he felt so potently about, to one of an uncomfortable anxiety about an unknown situation - and the fact that it was something his stepmother had apparently long pre-planned for him. He squirmed a little in the seat as she drove the car off the freeway down to an area close to the coast known for expensive properties.

"So... what sort of chores am I expected to do?... I've ever been that good at err... practical things." Marcia just continued her fixed smile, then swept her tongue slowly across her lips; he could see her easing into a distinctly decadent mode, the way he'd seen her on those rare occasions at home when she'd had a few drinks with friends and he'd viewed her covertly through a gap in a door.

"Oh, you'll see when we get there, and you'll soon learn to do things correctly... just as you're told. There'll be several women there who'll be more than glad to see you, and have you show them how courteous you can be... you'll soon forget that unsophisticated Lisa, believe me." Troy repositioned his legs on feeling his cock erect; she may have been talking about basket weaving or potting dahlias, but the mischief in her tone told him something a little more risque awaited him.

Her smug look of satisfaction broadened as they drove through tall iron gates which opened automatically, up to a huge mansion-like house, and he was led up marble steps to an ornate art-nouveau door. Marcia rang the bell, and Troys eyes were drawn to a figure distorted through the coloured glass, approaching from within. He turned to Marcia.

"Look... I... I'm not sure about this." Marcia turned to him with a curt smile and closed her eyes, emphasising her words were final.

"Well I am... you'll do just as you're told... just like your father did." Troy was left agape as the door opened and a severe looking middle-aged maid in black gave a warm smile to Marcia.

"Hello Ms Hayes, do come in." Her smile edged a sneer as sharp eyes surveyed Troy.

"Oh this is a surprise, Ms Dominique will be more than pleased with your company." She led them to a comfortable high-ceilinged lounge, then went to fetch the hostess. Troy twitched uncomfortably in the chair he'd been sat in, as footsteps announced the approach of feminine feet. The maid entered first and stood with her arms crossed near the door, smiling and looking Troy up and down admiringly, then Troy's cock eased to an unwanted erection as Dominique entered.

Dressed in just a tight black swimming costume with a black lace veil about her shoulders, her mature and shapely figure was expressed unashamedly, each contour of her full figure hidden only by skin tight material. Perched on stilettos, her long and graceful legs led up to a graceful camel toe and nipples poking in her excitement at the prospect of a soft male to mentor. The maid barked at troy, waving her finger.

"Stand!" Marcia grinned with satisfaction as Troy rose to his feet without any sign of indignation, the bulge at his crotch bringing smiles from all three women. Marcia crossed her legs and grinned at Dominique.

"I do hope you don't mind me bringing him earlier than we'd planned... it's just that he's been shown his insignificance by a girl today, so his ego is in a perfect position for the occasion." Troy blushed at being exposed at so personal a level, and the fact that he'd let himself be manipulated so easily... and by women, but that in itself made him strangely horny; the command in the maid's voice had had him immediately bow to her authority, and it kept his erection firm. Dominique's grin broadened with her curiosity as she stepped closer, her scent not helping Troy's instinctive arousal.

"Oh not at all, this is a wonderful bonus... the girls and I were just discussing our need for... shall we say, a little assistance, by the pool. You'll leave him with is for a week or so, I take it?" Troy gasped, he'd nothing but what he stood in; Marcia had given no indication he'd be there overnight... and a week?"

"But... I..." Marcia stood and gave a cruel smile as Dominique lifted her chin and wore a similar grin, the stern maid stepping closer with a scowl, the challenge of a little masculine resistance bringing out her authority, along with her nipples which now hardened with her demeanour through her satin blouse.

"You'll do just as you're told when here - on your knees this instant!" Troy sank to his knees, like a child before a governess, unable to resist the command of feminine power. His cock was now boning at the shame of his weakness, and the emerging pleasure being belittled by women gave him. He now faced the graceful bulge of Dominique's mature belly, her broad thighs, and the inviting camel toe of her cunt which was now wet and spiced with arousal. As the three sneered with satisfaction at his early progress, she rubbed the back of his head playfully, teasing his nose a little closer to what she knew he'd be tasting sooner rather than later.

"Oh... he's SO like his father... I remember so well when he entertained us here, it's such a beautiful thing having a genetic re-invention of him in our hands... and he still has the vigour of youth, which we'll test so thoroughly." Marcia stood close and smiled down at him with an air of smug triumph.

"...and he's inherited his father's genes alright - I've seen the image of womanhood that excites him, my maid Ella had no problem in hacking his computer." Troy gaped at the glistening cunt before him, his face burning with humiliation as the gentle feminine laughs of expectancy pierced his ears.

"...mature women in positions of control, with the upper hand... dominant - his father could have chosen them - no wonder that young lady dealt with him so efficiently earlier, she knew he was too weak for her and will have enjoyed putting him in his place." Marcia strutted to the door, her satisfaction in delivering and freeing herself of the baggage that had held her back for so long, intense and fulfilling.

"I'm off to pick up Mandy as promised, she's keen to sample what my husband produced too. I'll be back with her to check on his progress in a couple of hours - she's training a little something of her own that awaits my attention, and I'm certainly in the mood for it now." She stood and took a long look at the kneeling male, already satisfactorily humiliated, locked in suspense at what was to come, an erection bulging to prove he was just where he belonged. She had one more cutting truth to have him know.

"Oh... you can let him know the truth about his father's fate, it's time he knew, and it's of little consequence to me now, but it'll set him up nicely for what's to come." Troy heard her steps disappear to the door, his already tattered ego now crushed at the thought of Marcia and Ella viewing what he'd masturbated over, and his being on his knees to women who were the living image of those who'd brought his seed pumping so readily from his cock.

That exposure was now to be met with a more vivid one, as Dominique eased his nose to the engorged peach in her black swimsuit, and the delightful whiff of her womanhood combined with the mystery of Marcia's parting words brought his submissive core to the surface as she sighed in a moment of dominant promise. She was longing to have him lick her to orgasm, have him all to herself, but she knew restraint and patience was in order - the others would be keen to see him.

"Let's prepare him for introduction to his new role Greta, then the ladies will have a nice nostalgic time as we all discuss the fate of the man responsible for this new gift... I can't wait to parade him." The stern maid was in her element in assisting with proceedings; her cunt was wet with the prospect of the favours she'd receive at her behest from a male who was so evidently in need of training.

"Strip!" Troy hesitated for just a moment, shocked but in no way surprised by the command, and allowing Greta the pleasure of retrieving a cane from a stand from the corner of the room. He removed his shirt hurriedly as she stood flexing it, her stern face edged with a little disappointment on seeing him now obey her command, and consoled herself by cutting the air with it as he removed his clothes. Dominique grinned as she saw him flinch in reaction to the sound of its promise, she as eager as Greta to see him squirm in pain under its authority as he stripped down to his underwear.

"That won't be the last time you hear that sound, we find that men frequently require discipline by the cane for many reasons, and Greta has had many surrender their seed in capitulation to it... she's heard that you've failed the necessary standards of a young woman today, and that in itself has earned you punishment, but you've guests who require your audience first... underwear off now, or you'll be viewed with striped flesh!" She smiled with satisfaction as Troy, trembling in a combination of fear, humiliation, and the growing consciousness of the erotic pleasure of submission, slipped off his socks and briefs to let his erect cock air for the women's cruel amusement.

Dominique tittered with cynical pleasure on Greta handing her a collar and leash, Troy's exposed masculinity boning as she buckled the collar tight with her manicured fingers, and he watched the broad, firm cheeks of her arse flex seductively in the tight material as she strutted out on her tall heels into the sunlight in triumph; he led like a dog on all fours with Greta teasing the soft cheeks of his arse with the cane he'd soon know in earnest. He followed helplessly, out to a thankfully rubberised surface which edged the perimeter of a sizeable pool, prompted forward by Greta's spiteful taps to his flesh with the cane as Dominique kept the leash taut and continued her verbal belittlement to ensure the reality of his predicament was brought firmly home.

"So!... you've been deservedly put in your place by a young lady, and you like to waste your seed over images of strong women you'd never have the courage to face?... you've got a lot to learn young man, and you'll be taught just how to serve womanhood in complete obedience now you're here..." His watering eyes focused through the gait of her superb legs on hearing the sound of delighted women ahead, his balls tingling as his humiliating exposure was witnessed by a group of five mature ladies, some scantily clad, one with her gently sagging breasts exposed, one completely naked, laying on sunbeds between sun and shade. All showed their grinning contempt for him, and their approval at the humbling of a male, he feeling the pulsing to rigidity of his cock at the lush shame of being seen for what they knew he was.

Dominique paraded him close enough to smell their sweet scents, as they sneered and gave soft cynical laughs, each cooing and pursing their lips as they took in the prospect of a fresh male whom they already knew so much about. Dominique had him kneel centrally before the group, Greta standing close with the cane as the dominant woman pulled his head back to be viewed by them. He was unable to control his cock, which stood protruding high to expose his bell-end in the breeze, and confirmed the inner feelings he could not hide, which they'd exploit with pleasure.

Troy's humiliation increased to a shameful peak, on recognising at least two of the women as closer friends of his stepmother's; women whom he'd engaged in brief and passing conversation with in the past, one of whom, Drew Adams - the one who lay naked and openly displayed her shapely mature figure - he'd found very attractive sexually, and had been the cause of some self-inflicted embarrassment for him when she'd stayed a few nights a while back.

Troy had liberated a pair of her lacey panties from the maid's laundry trolley, and had masturbated hard with the soiled gusset over his nose, the scent bringing him to an exquisite orgasm. He had masturbated again later as he watched her strut elegantly across their rear lawn from his bedroom window; she was just like the women on the net who brought the seed pulsing from his fisted cock as he fantasised about being at their strict bidding.

Consumed by his sexual euphoria, he had forgotten about the panties, and when he returned from the bathroom having wiped his cock clean, the maid was there in his bedroom to greet him with a broad smile, hand on ample hip, the panties held high on display in her fingers. Marcia had taken great pleasure in having him explain how and why he'd come into possession of a guest's panties, while the maid stood witness and enjoyed his humiliation, both knowing full well the base masculine instincts which had driven him. He had been thoroughly shamed before his Stepmother and a maid, but at least Drew did not know of it...

Drew's eyes met Troy's, and her pleasure peaked from a wicked smile as she sat up and lifted her graceful arms to the rear of her head in ensuring her auburn hair was secured in its tight bun, the action of her arms making her full breasts jiggle delightfully in teasing his eyes with their poking pink nipples which indicated her own sexual excitement. She sighed softly as she slid the globes of her naked buttocks to the side of the angled sunbed, arched her back high, and parted her superb white thighs slightly to show him her shaven cunt, already glistening with sun oil and perspiration, it was now moistened further by her emerging arousal. She watched with satisfaction as his eyes flicked uncontrollably between her face and her exposed sex.

"Well? what are you waiting for?... you have a good sniff... I KNOW you'll recognise the scent." Troy let out a little gasp amid the jeers of approval from the other women, hesitating on not quite believing the command, and cut sweetly by the further humiliation that she and the other women were aware of his previous base act, he crouched slightly and felt pressure on the back of his neck. Dominique showed the elegance of her long and shapely legs to good effect, teetering on one tall heel as she she pressed his head down to sniff at Drew's cunt, her own sex airing its scent as it bulged with arousal in the taut swimsuit; she longed to have that still relatively youthful nose, tight in her own slot, being trained to the obedience of her choice.