Barry's Sluts Ch. 02: Emily


As always, it left her cunt soaked.

In the meantime, she heard her son's zipper fall, along with sound of pants hitting the floor. It made her heart race with anticipation and Ariadne kept her focus forward, staring at the blank wall in front of her, as she knew that it displeased her master when she looked anywhere but forward when he fucked her from behind. This was his favorite position, because it let him do whatever he wanted to her without her being able to see. It wasn't her business what he did with her body. Her job was to bend over and let him.

As usual, though her pussy was ready and eager to accept him, he toyed with her first—using his hands to gently stroke the inside of her thighs, taking advantage of the extra sensitivity she always felt when pregnant. As she moaned softly at his touch, her body squirmed eagerly, enjoying the foreplay, loving the feeling of letting her son touch his property in any way he saw fit. Eventually, she was worked up something fierce, and the end of his cock lightly brushed against the lips of her slit, teasing her with its firmness. She begged for him to slide his shaft inside, but of course he didn't. He delayed for another torturous second, pausing to ask her a simple question.

"Whose pussy is this?"

"Yours, Master," Ariadne breathed with readiness.

She felt his hips move, and the knob of his cock slid inside an inch.

"Whose pussy is this, Ma?"

"Mmmm, it's yours, Barry, my son. Your mother's pussy is all yours."

As always, they were only allowed to call each other 'Mother', 'Son', or terms equal to that effect, when his cock was inside of her. At all other times, he was only 'Master' and she was only 'Slut'. But, he loved to remind her of their old relationship while he fucked her, and she always got a charge from calling him 'Son' as his meat sawed inside her wet cunt, just as it was now.

Barry finally began to fuck her, his hips bumping into her wide ass with powerful, rhythmic thumps. In the hollow room, there was a slight echo every time their flesh pounded together. Ariadne could keenly hear a soft, slapping sound every time he slammed his thighs against her meaty ass. That, along with the wet suction noises her pussy made with every stroke, only intensified her lust, allowing her to cum multiple times only a few minutes into it.

And she loved Barry's excited grunts. Her son always sounded so savage, so primal when he fucked her. He sounded feral when fucked other women, too—especially Suzanna—but she detected that there was a slightly different pitch whenever it was his slutty mother that he was plowing. She doubted that anyone besides her could pick it up, and even then it was only because she'd known this boy and raised him her entire life. Whatever the psychological reason or meaning behind it, Ariadne loved to hear it. She knew that this was a side of her son that was reserved for her, and her alone.

Barry 's hands slid underneath her gown, slowly peeling away inch after inch to expose her naked flesh and explore ever more of her wide, pregnant physique. His hands cupped under her, gently rubbing her belly. He adored feeling how large and firm she'd gotten with his baby inside her. As much as Barry had loved her body before she became pregnant, he absolutely worshipped her when she was with child.

"You are so beautiful when you're pregnant, Ma," he told her, thrusting harder and deeper, finally peeling back enough of her clothing to completely reveal her round, child-bearing stomach.

She caught her breath, coming down from another orgasm as she tried to respond. "That's only because it's your baby inside me, honey. My body was meant only to carry your seed."

"Damn right," Barry said as his hands slapped on her hips tightly. "Only I get to make babies inside you, right, Ma?"

"Absolutely, darling. I'm your slut. Your property. My body is yours to . . . ahgn . . . to d-do as you see fi—Oh . . . OH GOD . . .UUUNGGGH!!"

As always, repeating those words made her climax hard. Saying them over and over, with her son's cock hammering her and a baby in her womb was the most blissful thing in the world to her.

For Barry too, apparently, because it was that moment that he erupted inside her, spackling her insides with his hot jism. Ariadne cried out with pleasure, never tiring of the feeling of her son's hot jets pouring into her belly. She savored the experience, enjoying it all the more as her lover stamped deep inside her two or three times more, punching as far into her hole as he could.

When he finally began to calm down, they maintained that position for a few minutes afterward. Then, Barry began to speak.

"I think I'm going to fuck Chandra after they stop filming," he told her flatly. "Would you like me to do that?"

She licked her lips eagerly, her body still reeling from the workout he'd just given her. "Yes, Master. I would."

"Tell me what you want me to do to her," he instructed her, reaching around and pulling the flimsy straps aside from her swollen, aching tits, exposing tits bulging with breast milk.

"I – I . . ." Ariadne swallowed hard. "I want you to shoot your jizz down her throat. I want you fuck her nasty little cunt and then make her clean you off. And then, I want you to cum deep inside of her hot, whorish pussy."

"That's dangerous, Ma," he told her as he firmly squeezed her breasts, making breastmilk slowly begin to seep from inside. "What if she's not on the pill?"

"Fuck the pill," Ariadne hissed. "If she's stupid enough to avoid having your baby, then all the better for me. Give them all to me. I'll breed you a whole baseball team. No . . . an entire football team!"

Barry crooked a grin. "And some cheerleaders to boot?"

"And the coaching staff, the waterboys, the agents . . . hell, I'll even give you the whole opposing team for good measure! Just keep me pregnant, Master. Use my body as long as you can!"

Barry's cock stiffened tighter, as Ariadne knew it would.

"You've greatly pleased me, Slut."

"It's what I live to do, Master," she cooed. "That, and have your babies."

She noted that she'd let her 'politeness' slip again. The slut inside her was taking absolute control, but she didn't care. She had meant every word of it. She loved being pregnant with her son's heirs, and she wouldn't stop for all the world.

Barry fucked her one more time, lasting for roughly an hour before once again cumming deep inside her and pulling out, leaving his cum oozing down the insides of her thigh. However, as he dressed, he left Ariadne cuffed to the pipe, not even bothering to pull her dress back down. She then heard the door opening, and Barry announced that he was off to go and fuck that Chandra woman and to make herself comfortable.

That knowledge, coupled with her shackles, kept Ariadne excited even long after Barry had left. It might have seemed demeaning to most, but she loved knowing that her son was going to fuck another slut, and that he was leaving her like this—exposed, cuffed and filled with his cum—until he returned. After all, she was only a slave . . . a pregnant slut, being used for the purpose God had intended for her.



"What? You were a LESBIAN, Ma?" Barry exclaimed, taking long slow strokes as his throbbing cock sawed through his mother's cunt.

Bent over the kitchen table, her eight-month-wide belly barely hanging off the edge, Ariadne tried her best to answer her son's question, but the way he fucked her, with such strong, precise strokes, meant that she was attempting to respond through an orgasm. She took a few gasps for air and attempt to speak, but the only thing which ebbed from her mouth was a sob of sexual satisfaction.

"I asked you a fucking question, Slut," Barry said, yanking his hand backward and pulling the chain attached to his mother's collar. Ariadne yelped and did her best to prevent coming a second time, as she was wont to do whenever her Master called her by her 'true' name.

"I-I'm sorry, Master!" she cried, excitedly. Though she would never admit it to her Master, she always loved it when he got rough while drilling his cock into her. The one downside to being pregnant, though, was that he always subconsciously held back, afraid to hurt their baby, despite her assurances that her hardy body could take it. "I . . . I wasn't a lesbian exactly. Emily and I . . . we just explored each other."

"That sounds a lot like being a goddamn lesbian to me," Barry responded, his left hand gripping her ass tighter until she could feel his fingernails pinching her cheeks. "How was it?"

"It was wonderful, Master," Ariadne admitted.

"Oh yeah? Better than my cock?" he asked, pausing and sliding his wet shaft out of her hole.

"No! Please . . . put it back inside me! Hurry . . .!"

"You don't make demands of me, Slut," Barry reminded her. "Answer the question."

"It—It wasn't, Master!" Ariadne gasped desperately. "It was nowhere near as good as your strong, stiff cock! "

"I don't believe you," Barry said, sliding his meat along her slit, teasing her, making her ache with lust.

"It's the truth! Please believe me, Master! I enjoyed Emily's body, but I can and could live without it! I CAN'T live without you fucking me! I need you inside me! Pleeeeeeeease!"

Barry popped it back inside and began fucking his mother's cunt harder. "You're lucky that answer was acceptable," he told her contemptuously.

"Yeesssssss," she moaned, as she felt his warm, solid manhood fill her again. "Thank you!"

Barry leaned forward, pressing his lean, muscled body against his mother's back. Aroused by the heat, Ariadne quivered, and she moaned as she felt her son's hands scoop from around her and began squeezing her tits.

"This pussy is mine," he whispered into her ear. "These tits are mine." One of his hands left her breasts to explore her body, making an extra effort to touch her round, pregnant belly. "Everything I touch is mine."

"Yes, darling," Ariadne breathed, turning her head so that she could kiss her son's lips. "My body is yours and yours alone. It exists only to please you."

Barry gripped his mother's shoulders hard and threw his head back as he came. Milky white semen burst from the end of his cock and splashed inside his mother's walls, coating her tender, pink insides.

"Oh, thank you, Master," Ariadne said, leaning her head on the table in relief. "I needed that."

Barry merely grunted in response, still too wasted from his own climax to give an articulate response. His softening package slid out of her cream-filled pussy, allowing thick, syrupy cum to seep out and leak onto the floor. Ariadne simply stayed in that position for a bit longer, enjoying the feeling of being fucked over her own kitchen table. She even felt a thrill from having cum oozing out of her naked, freshly-used tunnel.

Suddenly, a burst of loud crying came from inside what had once been Barry's bedroom. Ariadne sighed, although she was thrilled that the baby had waited until his father and mother had finished this time.

"Hold on, Tony," she resigned, lifting herself from the table. "Mommy's on the way."

"No, why don't you lay down on the couch and rest, My Pet?"

It seemed Barry was feeling rather affectionate, as he often did, post-coitus. With Barry and Suzanna, Ariadne was always the bottom; she simply didn't have the sort of dominant spirit that they did. She was always polite and soft-spoken and conscious of criticism. Ninety percent of the time, the pecking order went Barry > Suzanna > Ariadne. On rare occasion—either when he screwed something up or when she had some sort of leverage—Suzanna and Barry switched positions and she became the top and he the middle.

Suzanna called Barry 'Papa' when he was in control, as 'Master' was Ariadne's word. When she was in control, she usually went by the nicknames 'Teacher' or 'Madame Zanna'. Both she and Barry called each other 'Pet', and sometimes slipped and called Ariadne that as well. She didn't mind being called 'Pet', but it paled in comparison to the thrill of being called 'Slut'.

When in a particularly loving mood, they all sometimes used other names as well.

"But, Sweetheart," she said, responding equally affectionately, "he probably just wants to be fed. Maybe it's better if I go . . ."

"He might just need changing," Barry cut her off. "If that's the case, there's no reason you need to bother with it. I'm not even close to done with you, so go regain as much strength as you can on the couch, and if he needs your tits, I'll bring him out and we'll both have some."

"Mmmmmm," Ariadne purred, both at the idea of feeding both of her children, and Barry's quip about 'not being done' with her. At his behest, she stood upright and began walking her way to the couch. "As you wish, Master."


Stark naked, Barry headed for the babies' room, walking backward to admire his equally-nude mother waddling her pregnant body to the couch. It was times like this when he was glad that he enforced a 'clothes-free' policy on their property. His mother was absolutely gorgeous—especially so when she was pregnant and sporting that obscene, bulging belly. Wearing clothes over such delectable art would be an absolute waste

For the sake of fairness and pragmatism, Barry elected not to wear any clothing either—it only slowed him down when he had the urge for fucking, and quite often, his nudeness only sparked his mother's own animal lust. More than once, he had felt her body press against his from nowhere, instantly signally that she was ready for him to work out her pussy again. It always worked—there had never yet been a time when Barry turned down the option to fill his mother's cunt with his seed.

Barry was surely in love with her—a different type of love than he felt with Suzanna, but a strong one nonetheless. He had become quite accustomed to possessing both a wife and a 'slut'. Suzanna was his other half . . . and although she and Ariadne were both usually in sub roles, it wasn't quite the same. When Suzanna was submissive, she most enjoyed physical sensation. She liked it when Barry either tortured her flesh relentlessly or stimulated it tenderly. Of course, constantly switching up was a big key, and Barry often tended to tie her up and blindfold her to keep her guessing which of the extremes to expect. Even better was when he could do something like edgeplay—arousing her with the delicate touch of sharp objects—which really fell into neither extreme, keeping her body quivering in delight for hours.

Ariadne, on the other hand, simply loved being dominated. She surrendered absolute and total control to her son, and expected him to use his authority over her whenever he felt like it. She sometimes enjoyed pain and physical sensation like Suzanna, but what made her the most excited was just being used like a toy. She had resigned herself to only existing for Barry's cock to plug her holes and give her children. Barry was free to do anything that he desired, and she would never, ever question him. A dildo, after all, never questioned the woman it belonged to, right?

Both lovers had their merits. Suzanna kept him mentally stimulated—it was a constant challenge to keep up with her, and if he somehow screwed up or did a lackluster job, Suzanna had no qualms with switching to her dominant side and just taking what she wanted from him. And of course, that was its own breed of fun. Ariadne, however, kept Barry physically piqued. Barry actually found his mother's body the sexier of the two, especially when she was with child, and he thoroughly enjoyed the power of having his own human flesh toy that would willing accept his load, all day, every day.

In short, Barry knew that he loved both of his women, and neither one could ever replace the other.

Loud crying from the baby's room reminded him of his original goal, and he retreated back into the room to check on his infant daughter-slash-sister and newborn son-slash-brother.

"Well? Didn't you say you were hungry, too, Master?" she asked Barry after he had returned Tony to his crib.

Without a word, Barry knelt in front of Ariadne and took her nipple into his mouth. Ariadne moaned in ecstasy as her eldest son sucked away at her teet. She held Barry's head against her, letting him take his fill of her breast milk.

"Make sure to leave some for your brother, Master."

"My son, you mean," Barry corrected.

"Of course, Master," she smiled.

Barry nodded. "And as soon as he gets teeth, he's never touching your tits—my tits—again."

Ariadne turned beet red. He knew that she loved the way he was so possessive about her, and he loved the knowledge that his cock was the only one that would ever pierce her.

But he was more open to the idea of her having a female lover. Of course, she did have Suzanna, but that was kind of a reciprocal relationship. Suzanna was her son's wife, and Barry merely shared her. What his mother actually needed, Barry thought, was a lover that was entirely hers.

And that gave him a bit of an idea.

"So what about this Emily?" he asked her again, placing his lips back on her nipple.

"Oh no . . . not this again," Ariadne groaned. "Please, Master . . . like I said, she was no substitute for you."

"No, no, I'm not asking about that," Barry said calmly as he breathed in the aroma of his mom's breastmilk. "What happened to her?"

Ariadne frowned. "We . . . parted company shortly before you came back. I was . . . I was trying to 'cleanse my soul' for you, so to speak. I tried to exorcise my 'Slut side', and I told Emily I couldn't see her anymore. She . . . didn't take it well."

Barry paused from his sucking and began to squeeze her tit. "I want you to get her back."

"W-What?! No, Master . . . I – I couldn't! It's been years since then and . . . and I messed things up so badly with her . . ."

"This is not open for discussion," he said with a glare. "You're going to do whatever you can to make Emily your lover again. Whatever it takes, short of letting another man touch you."

Ariadne whined and her lip quivered with uncertainty, but she didn't dare disobey her son's orders.

"Yes, Master."

Barry paused and looked into her eyes. For a moment, he let his dominant façade fall away. "You want her back, don't you, My Slut?"

She hesitated a moment before responding. "Yes. I miss her."

"Then do it," Barry instructed her. Just before taking her into his mouth once again, he added, "And you will be punished if you fail."

"Y-Yes, master," Ariadne gulped.

He nibbled lovingly on her nipple, causing Ariadne to moan in rapture as he told her, "Good Slut."


Ariadne stared at the sign of the shop named "Clitacasm". It had been so long since she'd been here, she had completely forgotten the place even had a name. For years, she'd gotten by just calling it "Emily's Shop" in her mind. She hadn't even been to this shopping mall in all that time, and everything seemed new after only a few years. Several new shops had opened, many others had closed, and the mall itself seemed to have gotten a fresh coat of paint. Overall, the changes looked nice, but she simply preferred the way things used to be, if only for the nostalgia.

At least the mall nursery was still open. Ariadne had thought it was a dumb idea when it opened about ten years ago, as only a lazy parent would dump their kids off while they went shopping. Now, though, she ate her words. Thank God for that little convenience: even she would have found it a little weird to push a double-stroller into a sex shop.

As she approached, Ariadne noticed that there were a number of people sitting outside the shop. At first, Ariadne thought that Emily may have 'closed' her shop a little early, like she used to do whenever the two of them made trips to her workshop. However, the shop was open, so her next guess was that the people outside were just squatters or loiterers. Strangely, though, most of the individuals standing outside were either Ariadne's age or even older.

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