The Adventures of a Slut Mommie Ch. 04

Note: May I please have the italics sections kept.

The Adventures of a Slut Mommie.

Chapter 4: The Hot Tub Party.

Hello readers, Katie Muggleton with you again. I guess if you're still reading after three chapters, you must be enjoying my adventures, so let me remind you how chapter 3 ended, and I'll describe what happened next.

My son's friend Frank had blackmailed me into attending a sex club with him and his friends. Unknown to me, I was to be the main attraction in the stage show hosted by the Dominatrix, Mistress Siobhan. Although I was naked before the crowd, other than suspenders, stockings and heels, I didn't need to fear someone recognising me because Siobhan had covered my eyes and upper face with a miked, eyeless masquerade ball mask.

In part one of the show, Siobhan tied me to a viewing platform and bent me over at ninety degrees with my ass and pussy facing the audience. Then a remote-controlled arm with a magic wand vibrator attached was placed under my sexily displayed ass and pussy and moved against my clitoris and vulva. Using the wand and moving arm to stimulate my clit and pussy, Siobhan forced a massive orgasm from me for the audience's viewing pleasure.

Keeping me willing to proceed by threatening to allow Frank to take me immediately and using her lips, tongue and fingers to stimulate me sexually, Mistress Siobhan convinced me to lie on a fetish gynaecological chair. Then, after securing me to the chair, she used its functions to spread the chair's legs and leave my pussy and ass salaciously exposed.

Once she had me presented as she wanted, Siobhan rotated the stage until we faced the crowd again. After the stage stopped turning, I was obscenely displayed with my sweet little pussy and tight little ass visible to anyone before me. Someone wheeled another contraption between my thighs, and I felt a cock positioned at my dripping entrance.

Fearing someone was about to penetrate me, I protested loudly, but Siobhan assured me it was 'only a dildo on a fucking machine'. Siobhan used the machine to torment me by keeping me on the cusp of an orgasm until my mind almost melted. Then, instead of allowing me to climax, she removed the cock from my pussy, and added another for my ass. By now, I was so aroused that my ass gobbled the cock like a fat man does a pie. Now that I had a cock in both love holes, I immediately teetered on the edge of orgasm's cliff again.

After another mind-warping period, Mistress Siobhan finally allowed me to orgasm, ending the show and my exposure to the audience. Honestly, I'm not sure what relieved me more —my screamed orgasm or no longer displaying my luscious assets to the adoring crowd. Back in the performer's room, Mistress Siobhan penetrated me with the largest strap-on imaginable. Surprisingly, my increasing sluttishness allowed me to accept the intruder readily, and I soon crashed through into a fantastic climax.

Siobhan then abandoned me to my fate with Frank and his cohorts. In despair, I lay there, tied helplessly, knowing that Frank and his three mates would use my body continuously despite my objections. What was worse was that Frank knew the effect calling me a slut had, and he would use that effect to give me many orgasms even though they raped me.

However, just as all seemed lost, like a hero in a Hollywood movie, my big, strong, handsome son, Johnny, miraculously strode into the room, and he and his two friends rescued me from under Frank's nose. The best part of my rescue was that I could confess my interlude with Frank. Johnny immediately forgave me and agreed to find a way to get the images deleted. Then, when we got home, Johnny and I made love before I slept in his strong arms.

Readers, now that we're up to date, I'll tell you what happened next.

Saturday morning, I woke feeling the best I'd felt since coming under Edgar's spell. Making love with my son had relieved my seemingly continuous arousal, and even though I could feel his delicious spend leaking from me, my pussy felt normal, not continually aching for stimulation as it had been for the last two-plus weeks.

'Damn, I want a smoke,' I thought. Looking in my bedside table, I pulled out a packet, extracted a fag, and reflexively lit it up. Taking a huge drag as I lay back on my pillow, I had time to think, 'No, please! Not again,' When ... Flicker: image: Then, satisfied I was ready, Liz stood and positioned a thick strap-on cock at my entrance, and I moaned as she slowly forced it deep inside me. ... Screaming silently in my mind ... Flicker: image: Moaning as the receptionist's huge cock split me apart, ... I pleaded, 'Please, Edgar, no. I swear I'll never ... Flicker: image: ... I lift my spread knees and wrap them around Liz's hips. ... smoke another cigarette!

Stubbing the cigarette out, I lifted and spread my knees before shoving two fingers into my cunt (Yes, I used that word in my mind. Part of my recalled memory reminded me of being told that as a submissive Mommie slut, I didn't have a pussy or vagina. I had a cunt, cock hole, or cum receptacle. Three cum receptacles in total. Mouth, cunt, arse or rear fuck hole.). Sliding my fingers squishily back in forth in my cum filled pussy, I circled my button (cum switch), then arched off the bed as I, barely suppressing a scream, climaxed.

I looked for my son, hoping that he had slept through my orgasm or at least that it had excited him. But, unfortunately, the other side of my bed was empty. Sighing, I opened my phone and saw Johnny had used the 'Note' app to leave me a message. "Hey, Mom," it read. "It's 4.00 am as I write this. I heard Kristy come home, and rather than have her catch us sleeping together naked, I slipped off to my bed. See you at breakfast, my beautiful Mommie slut."

Of course, that meant I had to return my fingers to my squishy pussy. This time, rather than try and stifle my scream, I rolled onto my tummy and screamed into my pillow.

After recovering from my twin climaxes, I showered, douched, then did my hair and makeup. Although I wasn't going anywhere today, nor expecting visitors, I still dressed as if I were. My mother often paraphrased the old saying, explaining that a woman should be a lady in public, a wife and mother in the home, and a whore for her husband in the bedroom. Even though my mother is a largish woman (Over 90 kg), she has shape. Her breasts and hips are wider than her waist, and she always dresses appropriately sexily for her age and size.

Opening my closet, I took out my midnight blue Zima skort and put it on. I love Zima Skorts and have four in differing colours. Midnight blue, dark green, white and black. What I love about them is that, on the surface, they look like the world's tiniest micro mini but have a thin gusset barely wide enough to cover my vulva built in.

I chose a bright yellow Privé plunging neck puff sleeve ruched crop tee to go with that. The plunging neckline on my top left most of my décolletage and the inner mounds of my large, gorgeously firm breasts exposed. Because my top showed my toned but curvy tummy, I changed the belly button ring I currently wore for another star-shaped one—this time with a sapphire as the centrepiece.

I turned away from the mirror after giving myself the final once over and headed for the kitchen. But as I turned, I remembered Kristy had complained about my ashtray breath, so I returned to the bathroom to brush and gargle a second time to ensure she'd have nothing to complain about.

However, it was all to no avail because when I got to the kitchen, I discovered I was home alone. Shrugging because being alone wasn't unusual, I got breakfast. I made a bowl with frozen acai puree, banana, raspberries and blueberries, thickened cream, and almond butter. After mixing the ingredients in the blender, I made coffee and sat at the breakfast bar, looking out into the gorgeous morning sun. 'Just about nice enough to sunbake nude,' I thought. However, I knew, given it was late June, outside would be a lot cooler than it appeared.

I idly wondered what to do with my day. Two days ago, I'd done the house from top to bottom, and it wasn't time to prepare my garden for spring. My mind drifted, and I recalled being on the stage with Siobhan and the two machines. Although I remember being acutely embarrassed, I marvelled at how easily Siobhan's deft handling of my arousal had overcome my objections and inhibitions. Though not being able to see the crowd helped.

Feeling that old familiar tingle grow between my legs, I whispered, "Do you dare do that again, Katie? Would you go back there of your own accord and volunteer to be the main show again?" I would. I knew that now. The orgasms were as intense as any I remember having. The feeling of power I had over the crowd and their overt sexual response to my sexily writhing, luscious body had, underneath my embarrassment, turned me on so much that I wanted to do more. I wanted them to orgasm from watching and hearing me orgasm.

'But what could you do to top your last performance, Katie?' I wondered. Let Mistress Siobhan fuck you onstage, my subconscious answered. 'I wouldn't dare,' I replied to myself. But I knew the seed had been planted, and I'd fantasise about doing it every time I masturbated until I'd done it for real or the fantasy finally faded.

I forced my mind to think about more mundane things because if I hadn't, I'd have pulled my knees up and apart and masturbated. However, before I could concentrate on anything else, another even more salacious thought reared up from my subconscious. "Many times, you've fantasised about being a slut for several sexily dominant men at once, Katie. Imagine doing that onstage for the crowd!"

I could imagine doing that all too clearly! I'd be naked except for the most ridiculously tall, strappy high heels you could conceive, with a dog collar and leash around my long, slender neck. The men, all handsome and muscly with huge cocks, would stand naked in a row facing the crowd with their hands behind their backs. Some of the cocks would be achingly erect, others at half-mast, and still more would be limp, hanging, begging for my talented mouth to bring them to life.

Mistress Siobhan would hold my leash and, with me on all fours, lead me across the stage to the men. First, she'd lead me to the men with soft cocks, and using my exquisite oral and deep-throating skills, I'd perform mouth to cock's eye on them and feel their warmth and hardness swiftly increase as my talented mouth brought them to turgid stiffness.

From there, Siobhan would lead me to the men at half-mast. They would be the work of mere seconds to bring completely erect. Then the competition would start. I'd have sixty seconds with each man, in turn, to make him cum using only my mouth. I could use my hands for balance but not to touch their cocks or balls. Each man that orgasmed was eliminated until only two were left.

I was their prize. On stage, one would take my willing mouth as the other took my sweet little pussy. The man in my pussy would pull out at the last second and cum on my back so the crowd could see. The other would cum on my face, of course. And then, they'd swap.

As you've read, I was entirely into that fantasy by then and decided to return to my room to masturbate. However, as I stood, the doorbell rang. Thrown roughly out of my sexual fantasy and with my pussy dripping, I frowned and considered not answering. But my ingrained good manners (there's nothing like receiving an old-school caning on your naked breasts and ass to ensure you behave) made me straighten my skort, check that my breasts weren't displayed inappropriately, and answer the door.

Phil and Freddy stood there smiling when I opened the door. "Good morning, Mrs Muggleton," they chorused.

A little flustered because I had no idea they were coming over, I mumbled a greeting back to them, then asked, "Are you here to see Johnny? If you are, I'm not sure where he is."

"He's with his girlfriend, Gina," Freddy explained as they pushed past me inside. "It's you we came to see, Katie, because we have your earnings from last night," He handed me an envelope containing fifteen one hundred dollar bills, "and a confession to make."

"You do?" I answered, looking in the envelope, bewildered by the amount. "Whatever about? I haven't even thanked you for saving my sorry ass last night."

"I've wanted to kick Frank's ass for years, Katie," Phil growled. "Then, when I met Siobhan and discovered what he'd done, I only wanted to kick it more. But that isn't what we meant."

"No, it isn't," Fred added. "First, we must confess that there is more than one thing to confess about," he added with a grin.

Phil grinned, too. Then he said, "We confess that at the lumber yard during your shoot, we took many inappropriate pictures of your, umm, parts, Katie. Towards the end there, when you were getting into it, we both lay on the ground and, well, you know. Plus, as you posed, you unawarely exposed your breasts numerous times, and we photographed those, too."

As I considered what Phil had said, I ushered the boys into the lounge and bade them sit on the couch. I sat opposite them, but I carefully lifted my lower legs and folded my feet under me with my knees to the side, ensuring that there was no way I could inadvertently flash them my gusset-covered slit.

I guess that I should have been angry with them, but instead, they were so sweet and innocent as they confessed, and I knew that I was horny and deliberately showing my pussy and boobs to my son at the time, so I couldn't blame them for taking advantage of my poses, too. So, instead, I smiled, tittered, and widened my eyes into my 'sweet, pretty, and oh so innocent' look and coquettishly asked, "So did you look at them, and, you know?" I made my thumb and forefinger into a circle and subtly moved back and forth as if I was pulling on something in the circle.

The guys blushed prettily (can guys blush prettily? You know what I mean), and Freddy admitted he had as Phil nodded.

"What do you plan on doing with them?" I fearfully asked as I remembered Frank's photos and what he said he'd do with them. "We brought our laptops and cameras with us, Mrs Muggleton," Freddy explained as he and Phil held up their laptop bags and camera cases. "We'll show where the photos are on our hard drives and memory cards, and then you can watch us delete them."

I considered what they said but found that I quite enjoyed thinking that these tall, young, athletic men masturbated over my gorgeous self, so using my inbuilt flirtiness, I blushed, looked away shyly, looked back at them, blushed and looked away again, then using my sweet, little girl innocent voice, I said, "Do you boys like masturbating over little ole me?" They both nodded vigorously. "Would you like to keep them so you still can?" Vigorous nods. "Do you promise never to share them with anyone other than each other?" Vigorous nods. "Then I don't mind if you keep them, boys. But Johnny must never find out you have them."

"He's already got plenty of his own," Freddy muttered. "Bastard won't share, though."

Relieved, I innocently said, "What was that, Freddy? I didn't quite catch what you said."

"Nothing important, Mrs Muggleton," Freddy assured me.

"Katie, please."

"Nothing important, Katie," Freddy smiled. "But that brings us to our second confession. Phil was the man under the helmet beside the guy that addressed you outside the chateaux last night, Katie. He volunteers to do it if Siobhan and Caoimhe are there so he can ensure their safety. He got me a free ticket, and I was on the floor watching your performance."

I blushed for real this time, and my spirits dropped into the cellar. 'So much for no one recognising me,' I thought despairingly. Then I remembered Johnny's revelation that the young woman who had tongued me and had sat on my face was my best friend's daughter. "Oh, shivers," I muttered, realising one wrong word from any of them would expose my dirty secret for everyone to know.

Still my favourite, Phil leaned forward, patted my knee and said, "Don't worry, Katie. None of us will reveal what we know. Mom and Dad would accept that Caoimhe is a lesbian, but they'd freak out if they knew she was my girlfriend's submissive plaything."

I hesitatingly said, "Phil, umm, Siobhan seems more, you know, lesbian than straight, you know?"

"She's bisexual with a preference for women, Katie," Phil admitted. "However, she says she's head over heels in love with me and that if I ask her, she'll quit performing so she doesn't become an embarrassment to me. But Siobhan likes performing, and I like watching her perform, so fuck-em, I say."

I didn't know what to say, so I stayed silent. But as the silence stretched, I lamely said, "Anyway, guys. Thank you for saving me last night. I shudder to think what Frank and his animalistic mates would have done to me."

Phil smiled, then winked at Freddy and said, "Allowing us to keep your pics is more than thanks enough, Katie."

"Speaking of which," Phil grinned. "Katie, even though I would need to say it every day, I have to say that you look divinely gorgeous today, and the sun is perfect for taking pictures of you sitting on the lounge. Could we plead that you pose for us again?"

"More pics of my pussy?" I snapped, then realised that was very ungracious of me, considering without Johnny and these two men, I'd be a rape victim. "Sorry, Phil," I apologised. "That fell out before I could think."

"It was a fair enough comment, Katie," Phil smiled. "But will you please pose for us?"

So, despite my misgivings, I ended up, down, and all around that sofa as Phil and Freddy happily snapped away. Phil casually got me to reveal more and more. He'd say things like, "Oh, wow, Katie! You look so hot like that! Now, just slip that top a little further off your shoulder. Yea, that's it. A little more so we can get a little 'nipple slip'. Oh my God, yes, just like that. Wow, Katie, you are the hottest Mommie on the planet!"

Eventually, they stopped so they could upload their pictures onto their computers. Ignored, I sat there feeling a little abandoned until Phil said, "These are great, Katie. Some of them will make it onto our web page for sure. But they're all incredibly modest. Do you think we can have some a little more daring? A little more risqué?"

The attention these boys lavished on me this morning, combined with my earlier fantasy, had me quite hot, so I agreed that I would, but nothing that exposed my breasts or genitals. Phil then questioned why my skirt didn't reveal anything, no matter how he made me twist and turn. Not thinking, I hoisted it up and pulled the gusset away from my pussy, giving them a free flash, "It has an inbuilt panty," I explained. Then realising what I'd done, I quickly let the material go and lamely added, "It's called a skort because it's a combination skirt and shorts."

Phil turned to Freddy, and they seemed to agree on something before Phil turned back to me. "You have quite an extensive wardrobe, don't you, Katie?" He asked. "I don't recall seeing you in the same thing twice."

I confirmed that I did. Then confessed that I bought so many new clothes that, to create room in my walk-in robe, I regularly made runs to Vinnies (St Vincent de Paul Society's charity shops) to donate clothes I'd bought but never worn or maybe I had bought for a special event and would never wear again.

"May I look in your robe and choose an outfit for you?" Nothing too revealing, I demanded. "I'm thinking very revealing, Katie," Phil smiled. "But if you'll permit me, I was in the university drama society and learned to do stage makeup. If you let me make you up, I guarantee that not even your mother or husband would recognise you!" Still! I emphasised. No slit, clit or entrance! "If you say so, Katie," Phil agreed. But I could hear the lie in his voice.