Liberation Road

Directly outside of 88 Liberation Road the parking spaces were taken. A series of smart BMWs, Mercs and the likes filled the kerbside. They didn't look the sort of motors that locals owned this side of town. Madelaine checked her make up. It was perfect. It was always perfect, whenever she was hooking up with Albion. But I watched her dab some extra perfume on the pulse points, her soft throat, and her wrists. Her Cartier Francais watch slipped down her wrist. It was something that irritated me. Why didn't she fix the loose bracelet? Why was it chic to have it slide around that way?

'Stop staring Neil, watch the road. Watch out for rough types' she insisted, barely glancing at me.

Madelaine hated it when I stared. She hated it when I called her Maddy. Madelaine, or mistress she insisted. If Albion dropped by our place, then it was 'mistress'. At the very least though she was Madelaine, and I should remember that.

'Does he want me to come in...or am I meant to stay and guard the car?' I asked irritably.

She smiled. The thought of me guarding anything was laughable. If some thugs dropped by to key our car, then that was what would happen. I wasn't likely to argue with three or four black dudes and certainly not with a blade or two. I begged her to invite Albion over our way. I'd already put that nosey bitch of a neighbour in her place. It just seemed safer, healthier, for my wife's bull to fuck her at our house.

'You're to come in Neil. I told you before, we're meeting up with Jenny tonight.' My wife spoke sharply. It was a nuisance to keep reminding me things. My kid sister was now going with one of Albion's bros.

'Please don't. Please don't let him order me down between her legs too.' I said firmly. The thought filled me with horror. But this was part of it. This was part of the darker side of town. The nice stuff from neighbourhoods such as our own didn't prevail in shabby round down streets like this one. The very purpose of driving over to the rough side of town was to inculcate my wife into their whoring culture, and, of course, to humiliate men like me.

'You'll do as you're told. Don't be silly.... You know what happened last time you were impertinent' Madelaine reminded me.

Yes.... I remembered. There had been time in casualty. They explained after the interminable wait that my cheek bone was fractured. Still, the boot hadn't connected with my eye. That would have been so much worse...wouldn't it.

'You'll suck some cock as you always do. Jenny will see what you are. She will see what you became after being such a snot of an older brother. That much you have coming to you. Jen told me what an arse you were as a kid.' Madelaine checked her skirt. Leather, little more than a slouch belt, it made her look like a slut. No, she was a slut now. It confirmed her as a slut. Ride a designer car, wear a designer watch if you would, but what identified you in life, in your soul, was what you needed between your legs.

'Call her mistress. Don't look her in the face. Concentrate on her cunt, concentrate on cleaning her beautifully. You'll cope' Madelaine assured he.

There are many rites of passage in this life, and this was one of them. Albion and his friends determined rank. They decided which of the bitch women that submitted to them would rank as mistress for the likes of me. Because Albion liked Madelaine, because she fucked hard and greedily, because she broke my resistance so easily, then she was ranked. I was to address her as mistress. First off, that term would be used indoors. Eventually though, if Albion or one of his crew bred her, then I would be required to use the term everywhere and always. Now, my sister was being brought into the fold. His bro, Lucien, was poking her. She had the queen of spades tattoo done and had shown me. Taunting, laughing as she showed me the ink on her shoulder, Jenny had insisted that she wanted the public to see. 'I'm black owned Neil...but then, so are you. Aren't you?'

I hate the C word. But Madelaine uses it with relish. She does it to pierce me with shame. I never fucked her cunt. I only played court to what existed before that, a delicate and tenderly attended crevice that seemed more suited to tongue than my cock. 'Just lick me if you can't manage it' she would say when anxiety took the wind from my sails. The dynamics between us had changed.

'Get the car door' she said at last.

I stepped out into the street lamp night. It leant an orange hue to her silk blouse that had seemed white in the bedroom. The skirt, the leather, that was still black and soft. Glancing down the street, into the other cars, I saw no other sap husbands. They had all been called in, either to wait on shabby chairs in narrow corridors, or else to attend the events more intimately. How many cars, how many husbands, reduced to this? I started to...

'Come on, stop dawdling' interrupted my wife.

'Yes' I whispered.

'Yes mistress' she corrected sharply.

We went up to the front door of number 88. A young guy smoking a joint let us in.

''Hey Lewis!' my mistress enthused. She knew him. She knew several of them.

'Looking fine tonight Maddy babes, looking really fine!' responded the young guy. He kissed her open mouth casually. He checked my way, not that he really anticipated resistance. The cheekbone adjustment had seen to that. I was 'proper respectful' now. I was to heel as my mistress and master required.

You very rarely get greeted on Liberation Road. You are a tool, or else a receptacle. There may be terse instructions, but there are no greetings, no enquiries as to your health. Well, they determine your health. Everyone knew that.

We proceeded up some stairs that smelled of ancient carpet and weed. The place smelled generously of pot. From one or other room there came the sound of laughter and there was the noise of a woman climaxing. She was begging for the seed, begging her bull to put her in the 'family way'. I try to imagine the attendant cuck, his abject misery. After the bull has finished, cuck will toilet her. If he is truly an abject case, one much reduced, he will do as he's told and beg his mistress to breed with her bull. He will lick and appeal for release from the aching anticipation, admitting the awe he has felt watching the masterclass sex. We pass another floor and there is the sound of music, something to screw by. You know something, the music is never racing. It's languid, sultry, obsessed, decayed in the bone like a submission to voodoo. Once it has you in its grip, you will stop wondering how on earth you sank this low.

My sister came out of a room, led in hand by the young buck Lucien. She wore a tiny little black cocktail dress with a string of pearls about her slender throat. She looked married but she is not. That can come later, when she seduces the right sort of malleable sucker into a world that seems better suited to men like Lucien and Albion.

'Jen darling, how are you?!' my mistress cooed.

They hug and kiss each other on the cheek. My mistress kisses Lucien open mouthed as is their custom. The young buck glances at me. I am meant to drop to my knees in submission. I am meant to be available should he wish to run his length inside my mouth. Mistress hasn't even had to glance my way before I assume the position. Lucien nods and unzips his cargo pants. He gestures for Jenny to lift out his 'Mamba' and whilst she holds it, I suck just the glans. The man is circumcised, and his helmet seems grotesquely big. It is wet, salty, smeared with action and I realised blushing that he has just been with my sister. She is watching my act of submission with a quiet interest.

'He sucks nice Jen babe, he do, don't he?' Lucien said, glancing next at Madelaine.

My mistress nodded. 'Albion upstairs?' she asked at last, breaking the bobbing spell. The cock comes out and I'm allowed to rise to my feet only after he has tucked it away.

Albion has the penthouse suite of the house not that this says very much on Liberation Road. The furnishings are tired, and the view spans an endless of run-down terraced streets. My mistress goes to him, and they start to neck slowly, casually, sensually. Lucien and Jenny have held back beside me at the door. Lucien flicks the back of his hand against my arm, and I drop to my knees again. When I am down there, Lucien said to his bitch,

'cock or cunt?'

A moment's silence. I can see that my sister is anxious. First time. She is nervous. But Lucien is waiting and if she is to be a mistress too, to be his bitch 'full on', then there can be no indecision.

'Cunt' she whispered.

I watch her hitch up the hem of her tiny black dress. Her sex is bare, shaven, and seed glooped. She smells of him and his cock. She has had a gold stud fixed at the top of her sex flaps so that it thrills when Lucien rides her.

'Grab his hair and pull his mouth on your cunt like I told you!' Lucien growled. He sounded impatient and checked to see whether Albion and my mistress were checking things.

I felt Mistress Jenny grab my hair and tug. My face was forced around and then at last, because you can't hold your breath forever, I inhaled. She smelled fertile. In subsequent times I have understood this better. It's a smell that comes up when a woman is ovulating. You learn to scent such things and to respond. If you 'lick nice' at such times she likes it so much better. She is aching for a lot of cock and the licking just then seems perfect.

'Lick it, you sad little shit!' she ordered.

I licked. She was salty and her wet lips were lush. I felt them slide either side of my upward sweeping tongue. His seed slipped into my mouth, a gob of masculine gifting that ran down my tongue. The young mistress's thighs tensed. This was terrible, even vile may be. Perhaps it was something like that for her as well as for me.

'He licking nice?' Lucien quizzed. The man knew that I was! He could fucking well see that I was, but authority had to be stamped.

'Yes' she answered her voice quavering.

'Pull his fucking face onto you. Grind the shit!' demanded Lucien.

I was pulled harder onto her and now I glanced it too, Master was taking my mistress, casually against the wall.

Something pinched against my ear. I felt it again and realised that Mistress Jenny had a prize of her own. The additional Cartier that I had been required to buy Madelaine had been gifted on. Probably it had always been destined here. Perhaps this was the liberating badge, the symbol of freedom. The fucking bracelet was loose, and it caught my ear again. I winced and momentarily my head came back.

Lucien kicked me in the ribs.

'Don't let him struggle, make him open his mouth proper!' he ordered abruptly.

My sister paused, uncertain how.

'Like this!' instructed Lucien who twisted me ear sharply. I yelped, opened my mouth and lavishly licked at the bare and swollen labia before me.

'Better?!' asked Lucien.

The young bitch groaned.

'Maddy wants you to go to her place, to train the fucker hard this way, OK?' Lucien demanded of her.

'Yes' moaned the new mistress. I felt her thighs tighten rhythmically. She was needing to climax again. She needed cock.

Lucien kicked me away and I watched whilst my sister eagerly unloaded her beau's cock once more. Erect, insouciant and upward curved it looked like a bow against the dim street lamp lit backdrop.

'Get behind her, lick her rear' Lucien ordered as he pulled her towards his manhood.

I tried. Amidst the grunting and the first couplings of the night I tried very hard indeed. But their bodies knotted and moved like a mess of snakes winding up a bolus together. Mistress Jenny was mewing, begging Lucien to take what he wanted. He was so masculine, so 'attitude' she would do anything.

I dropped back on my haunches unable to dance with them as required. My head dropped and I dragged down the breaths. My mouth was full of it. My tongue, my teeth and everything else was covered in it, the taste of them. Slup, slup, slup, slup, slup. Somewhere a car horn sounded, and someone cursed. Cars come and go. 'God...oh god, darling', slup, slup, slup, slup, the alpha sound of Liberation Road.