Making Mum My Bitch

Making Mum My Bitch.

Chapter 1: Nineteen.

Well, a year has passed since I feminised my father, Jack, changed his name to Jacqui, and made him my bitch. He's been much better since Gordon dried him out over four days using the 'cold turkey' method. Dad still occasionally stares longingly at others drinking alcohol when we go out for dinner or to a bar or club. However, fingers crossed, he's stayed on the wagon for almost a year. Dad, at Gordon's insistence, joined AA. He attends weekly, mostly on his own.

Ben turned out to be what Gordon disparagingly called 'a chaser'. He was happy to come to our place or meet Dad at The Wickham, which, although it has a significant LGBTQI clientele, is known as a 'straight bar'. Ben wouldn't take Dad on dates to a restaurant, and he wouldn't come with us to watch Gordon in his shows at Sporties or The Brunswick because those were known as 'gay bars', and he didn't want to be seen with a 'tranny'.

Dad's transition to female proceeded smoothly. Gordon prescribed him estrogen, which further feminised Dad's appearance and softened his facial and body hair. We've got money, so Dad underwent several laser treatments to remove his body hair, with further electrolysis treatments to get rid of what was left. Dad also had electrolysis to remove his facial, armpit, and pubic hair permanently.

Gordon recommended a Melbourne-based cosmetic surgeon who thinned Dad's nose, shaved his browbone and Adam's apple, and added cheekbone inserts to help him look more feminine. We returned two months later, and Dad now owns a delicious pair of C-cup breasts that match mine in fullness and firmness. We can still swap clothes back and forth because we're essentially the same size, although Dad's shoulders are broader than mine. Dad didn't want 'bottom surgery' because he wanted to be able to make love to me, which I thought was sweet.

The only bugbear was that the estrogen killed Dad's erection, which depressed him because he couldn't make love to me like he used to. Gordon came to the rescue again. Now he was off the booze and exercising regularly, Dad was healthy enough for Gordon to prescribe Viagra. So, when Dad or I are horny, he takes a little blue pill and we fuck like teenagers. Well, I still am, so I guess that's fair.

Tasha and I are still together, although we're not exclusive with each other. I'm dating a sweet boy, Tom, who took me to The School Formal (Prom for you Americans). I let him get lucky on our fourth date, and he stayed the night with Dad and me. No, not like that, sillies! I meant he stayed the night at my place. Tom freaked a little bit when he found out the next day that my 'mum' was actually my dad, but he's handling it okay, and they're friendly now. It was amusing when my father tried to give Tom 'the dad's talk' dressed and looking like a sexy, quite pretty, middle-aged woman.

I graduated high school as The School Dux (valedictorian), maintaining my A+ average until the end. There was me and then daylight until the second-best student. I received invitations from every prestigious and not-so-prestigious uni in Australia to attend their campuses. I chose UQ (University of Queensland) because it meant I could stay with Dad.

So that's been the last year, which, let me tell you, has been much better than the previous two. I've started an MBBS (Bachelor in Medicine, Bachelor of Surgery) at UQ, intending to become a psychiatrist. I have an active social and sex life, a girlfriend who I adore, and a boyfriend who helps scratch an itch but isn't what I want for a husband.

Who would be, you ask? A younger version of Gordon, who, despite being primarily gay and a drag queen to boot, is still the most masculine man I know. He never fails to have my motors howling when he visits. Riding his staunch 6+-inch cock as Dad fucks my tight ass is the best sex I have. Where do you find one like him, though?

Everything was perfect, and my life was the best it's ever been. There are no more loud, screaming arguments between my parents. Dad is happy and thriving and working part-time back at his old accounting firm, which I'd found out was owned by The Morshuis Family Trust.

I should have known it couldn't have lasted.

This is how it all went wrong: Friday morning, before heading to uni, my phone rings.

Me: Hello?

Caller: Carina?

Me: Perhaps. Who is this?

Caller: Your mother. I'm in Brisbane at the airport.

Me: The only one I know who once had the right to use that title gave up that right three years ago. So, who is this?

Caller repeats stubbornly: Your mother.

Me: Sorry. Don't know anyone by that name.

Caller: I need your help, Carina.

Me (angry enough to want to reach through the phone and rip her throat out, sarcastically says): And why the fuck would I give a fuck?

Caller in tears: He beats me, Carina. He's lost his job, beats me, takes all my money and he's threatening to whore me out.

Me (still spitting tacks): Ever hear 'You made your bed'?

Caller, shocked: You don't care that a man beats your mother and is going to turn her into a whore?

Me (beginning to feel guilty): I probably would if I had someone deserving of the title 'Mother'.

Caller sobbing:

Me:...

Caller, sobbing louder:

Me:...

Caller wailing as she breaks down:

Me:...... sigh. Get your fat arse in a taxi and come here.

Chapter 2: She Arrives.

I called Gordon first, who promised he'd be here in less than thirty minutes. Then, I called Dad, who was at work. "Absolutely not!" Dad denied when I said I'd told her to come over.

"You're prepared to let someone beat up and whore out your ex-wife, my mother, Dad?" I asked. "Surely, you're a better person than that?"

Dad sighed before mumbling that I was probably right; we had to do something. He promised to be home as quickly as possible. He was packing up and leaving now.

I was glad that Gordon got there first. He squeezed me fiercely and told me it would be okay, that he had my back and would support any path I took. While we were waiting, I phoned uni and excused myself from classes, citing a family emergency. It turned out I needn't have bothered unless I'd be gone for a week or more.

Mum got out of a cab about twenty minutes later. I was shocked and appalled by her appearance. Mum's once luscious figure, which was so similar to mine, was skinny to the point of emaciation. Her golden-blonde hair was lank and streaked with grey, and her eyes were dull and lifeless. In short, she was Dad a year ago. I feared she was on drugs. Fortunately, she later assured me she wasn't, but that Sam, the man she'd abandoned us for, threatened that if she didn't hand over her pay, he would forcibly inject her with heroine to addict her so she'd be his whore.

I had to pay the driver because Mum didn't have any money.

Dad arrived in his Mercedes while Mum, Gordon, and I stared at each other on the front lawn. Mum gasped when Jacqui got out of the car instead of Jack, and she began crying. Dad looked at her angrily before getting back in his car and parking it in the garage. He waited until we came inside before speaking.

"What the fuck do you want, Mandy?" He snarlingly asked. "Why have you crawled out of the woodwork? Looking for money again? Fuck off, you two-dollar whore. We don't want you here."

Unlike she'd ever done before, Mum just stood and accepted his abuse. I wondered why, but then I saw how she kept her head tilted and her hair hanging over one side of her face. I gripped her chin, straightened her head, and swept the hair off her face. Her left eye had a shiner that Mike Tyson would have been proud to have given. Her cheekbone on that side was similarly bruised, and now that I was close, I could see she'd covered her skinny upper arms with foundation makeup to hide the bruises on them.

She smelled, and her dress was dirty. I thought it was a suede colour, but I could see it was a dirty white. Mum's armpits and legs were unshaved, also unlike her. Mum's shoes were filthy and held together with duct tape.

"I ran away three weeks ago," she explained. "Sam brought a man home from the pub who had paid him fifty bucks to fuck me. I wouldn't do it, so Sam beat me. I got a black eye and bruises and fucked by Sam's friend anyway. Sam took the fifty dollars and bought a bottle of scotch. I packed what I could and ran when he passed out. I've been living on the streets since then. I was raped again the first night I was on the street.

"Last night, I was walking down the street, looking for somewhere safe to sleep, when a guy pulled up in his car and offered me fifty bucks to blow him. When he pulled out his wallet to pay me, I grabbed it, stole his cash, and ran away. There was enough to buy a plane ticket to Brisbane, and here I am."

There were holes in her story, such as the fact that she was way too emaciated to have been on the streets for only three weeks. However, the fact that she was so thin and dirty indicated that something had gone wrong.

"Gordon is a doctor," I said to her evenly. "Will you allow him to examine you and see if you need any medical help?"

Mum looked at him doubtfully but readily agreed to allow him to check her out. I asked if I could be with her, which seemed to help her relax. I guess, if she'd been raped recently, it would make her feel better if she wasn't alone with a man she didn't know.

I took Mum up to one of the spare rooms as Gordon retrieved his medical bag from his car. Gordon, if he wasn't sleeping with me or Dad, uses the guest room, and I wasn't kicking out someone who helped for someone who deserted, so I took her to the smallest of the spare rooms. Petty? Yeah, I know. Shrugs. She wasn't forgiven.

When she disrobed, I was shocked again. The bruises on her face and upper arms weren't the only ones. Her back and front looked like someone had used her for a punching bag. Her skin hung loosely as if she'd lost a lot of weight quickly, and her once high-standing, firm breasts sagged like deflated balloons down her chest. She was braless, and her knickers were torn. I could see dried blood stains on her panty's gusset and I realised at least one part of her tale was true--she'd been raped at least once.

Gordon examined her from top to toe, took some blood to be tested, and sent her to wee in a specimen bottle. Mum winced several times as Gordon poked and prodded her. When he'd completed his exam, he leaned against the door and said, "I don't think there is any major damage, but I want to be sure, so I'll get Carina or Jacqui to take you up to the PA (Princess Alexandra Hospital). I want X-rays of your ribs and back and an ultrasound of your spleen, kidneys, and liver."

He handed Mum a slip of paper. "This is a referral, which will hopefully get you seen sooner than normal, but I wouldn't count on it. I'd have to return to my surgery to write X-ray and ultrasound requests because I don't have those forms with me."

Mum looked at me. I shrugged noncommittedly and asked Gordon, "Is it okay if she showers and changes first?"

"Of course," Gordon agreed. "I'll drop these samples at Sullivan Nicolaides and meet you back here. I'll take your dad with me to ensure he's not alone. I can tell he's angry, worried, and insecure, so rather than leave him at home, I'll take him out."

"Sounds like a plan," I said.

Gordon left, and Mum held her dress to her scrawny body and scurried across the hall to the bathroom. I told her to come to my room when she was done. I went down to the kitchen and found that Gordon was waiting for me.

"Someone, I'd guess more than one, has done a real number on your mother, Carina," he told me gravely. "Most of her face, body, arms and legs are covered in bruises. She has vaginal and anal bleeding. Some of the bruises are old and faded, so I'd guess she's been receiving regular beatings for at least the last two months, probably more. The perpetrator(s) was smart, though. Other than her upper arms, which would have been covered with long sleeves, none of the bruises are where they'd be seen if she was dressed."

My temper boiled. I hated what my mother did to me and my father, but no one deserves to be treated like that. "Your best guess?"

"Sam's been whoring her out for several months. I doubt her johns will have used condoms, so there's a strong risk she has VD or worse: Herpes, Hepatitis C, maybe even HIV.

"Any signs of drug or alcohol use?"

"Not excessively, no," Gordon reassured me. "Her teeth are too good for her to be on crack, and she doesn't have any puncture marks I could see. Her eyes are dull, but her corneas are bright, so I think her liver function is still unimpeded."

Gordon took Dad's hand, and they left. I heard the bathroom door open, so I returned to my room. I gave Mum a pair of my panties and a bra. The panties barely stayed on her ass, and the bra was so big as to be comical if the situation wasn't so dire, she removed it. Even my smallest dress, one that had hung unnoticed from when I was sixteen and not so developed, hung from her scrawny frame, but at least it was fresh and clean. My sneakers fit okay, so she wore those, too.

As Gordon had warned, we waited almost two hours before someone could see Mum. They performed the same examination Gordon had and came to the same conclusions. More blood was taken, even though I said that Gordon already had some taken and it was at the pathology being tested. An orderly took Mum away for X-rays and an ultrasound. He returned her about thirty minutes later, and we waited another thirty before a resident came in. He put the X-rays under the light and examined them carefully.

"Nothing broken, Mrs Morshuis," he said cheerfully. He took out the ultrasound results and perused them. "Have you been weeing blood, Mrs Morshuis?" He asked. Mum shook her head. "I think your liver and right kidney are bruised but not seriously enough to be concerned about. Keep a close eye on your urine for the next few days, and if there's any blood, get yourself back here immediately."

Just then, one of his students came in with the blood results. The resident examined them and said, "You have an STI (Sexually Transmitted Infection). Luckily, it's the common venereal disease, also called 'the clap'. It smells a bit icky, probably stings or itches a bit, but it's nothing too serious. A simple course of antibiotics should clear it up."

He continued, "You have lesions in your vagina and anus, which I'll prescribe a topical cream for, but that's more for comfort than anything else. Even without the cream, they'll clear up in a few days as long as you avoid using them for sex for that long."

The resident stared at Mum for quite some time before saying, "I took the liberty of completing a rape report. Although it's too late to look for and collect hair, skin, and semen samples, there's still plenty of evidence that you've been raped, Mrs Morshuis. I can forward the report to the police if you wish?" Mum shook her hair, and the resident sighed. "I took photos of your injuries and completed an assault form, too. Shall I forward those to the police?"

Mum shook her head again. "I hope that you've at least been smart enough to leave the man who did this to you, Mrs Morshuis?" Mum nodded, and the resident muttered, "Thank God for small mercies." He shook his head and said, "That's all I can do for you, Mrs Morshuis." He handed Mum the scripts for the antibiotics and the cream. "Remember, any sign of blood in your urine, and come back, okay?" Mum nodded again. "Louis will show you out," the resident said before standing and walking out briskly.

"This way," Louis said. He showed us back to the waiting room, and we left.

Mum knew I knew she hadn't been entirely truthful with her explanation, but neither of us brought it up on our way home. I guessed she didn't want to admit to how badly she screwed up when she left us for Sam, and for me, it was enough that she genuinely needed our help. That this wasn't just some scheme to get some money from Dad. As much as I hated her for abandoning my father, I didn't actually hate her. I hated her actions but not her, if that makes sense. Kinda? Huh? She was my mother. Okay? A girl, no matter how old, needs her mother. She still wasn't forgiven!

Gordon and Dad sat at the kitchen table, drinking tea when we returned. Gordon raised an eyebrow, but I shook my head. Mum sat as far away from Dad as possible at a six-seat table, but I kissed Dad's cheek and sat beside him, holding his hand. Our little show of solidarity misted Mum's eyes, but she stayed quiet.

"Did the hospital run any blood tests?" Gordon diplomatically asked. Mum nodded but didn't otherwise respond. We'd stopped by the chemist on the way home to fill her prescriptions. "I won't talk about those, then," Gordon said. "I'll address the things the hospital wouldn't have tested for. Mrs Morshuis, you're anaemic, and your white blood cell count is extremely low, meaning you're vulnerable to any virus that might be lurking about."

He continued, "Your thyroid is sluggish, and I'll need to run more tests to ensure you don't have hypothyroidism, an underactive thyroid. Your urine contains small amounts of protein, which means your kidneys are a little compromised. I suspect it's only because you're dehydrated, so ensure you drink plenty of water over the next few days.

"You're severely underweight, so I want you to eat plenty of high-fat, high-carbohydrate foods as well as lots of red meat and dark green vegetables, all of which will help you gain weight and improve your iron count. Other than what the hospital discussed with you, you're in remarkably good shape for someone who has been starved for close to a year."

"What?" Dad and I gasped simultaneously.

Mum refused to respond, though. I examined her again. It was clear that she'd been living hard for way more than the three weeks she'd admitted to, but a year? That would mean that Sam had kicked her out not long after she'd moved to Sydney to be with him. Had she been turning tricks and living on the streets since then? I tried to remember how she looked during the court case when she tried to get some money from Dad. I recalled that she looked tired and stressed, but I thought that was guilt from abandoning us. If Gordon was right, she was already on the street by then.

I didn't know what to feel or think. Why hadn't she returned home if Sam had dumped her early on? Dad would have taken her back happily, and I would have been glad that my mother was home. Life would have been better for us all. Dad would have escaped the bottle, I wouldn't have struggled with trust and abandonment issues, and Mum wouldn't look like she did now. I didn't understand.

Mum looked tired, so I suggested she go and lie down, which she did. Dad and Gordon looked searchingly at me. Uncomfortable, I said, "What?"

"Mandy calls, and just like that, she's forgiven?" Dad growled, momentarily forgetting to use the feminine pitch his speech therapist had taught him.

"She is not forgiven!" I snarled. "But she is my mother, and I will not leave her living on the streets now that I know she is! And, Daddy-dearest, nor should you! You never wanted her to leave, and if she'd wanted to come home, you wouldn't have hesitated or cared what she'd been doing since she left!"

"True before you saved me, Carina," Dad bellowed. "But if she hadn't abandoned us, I wouldn't have transitioned, and you and I wouldn't be lovers!"

"Why don't you yell a little louder, Jack," I disparagingly said, referencing he was yelling like a man and not like the woman he was. "I'm sure the neighbours two streets over still don't know you're fucking your daughter, you incestuous pervert!"

Dad opened his mouth, but I held my hand up. "Can it, Jacqui. I'm still your Mistress, you're still my bitch, and you're not above me whaling your ass with Mum's rolling pin."

Mum spoke from the hallway entrance. "So, Carina, you did what I couldn't and became your father's Mistress? I suppose I should be disgusted that my husband and daughter are fucking, but frankly, I'm glad you two were there for each other and could be what the other needed."

"How dare you call me 'husband', Mandy," Dad growled. "You gave up that right three years ago when you abandoned us."

"Yet neither of us has submitted divorce papers. Therefore, we are still married, and you are my husband."

How the fuck had I missed that? Dad's mouth opened and shut like a goldfish's.

Mum continued, "I knew you'd be happier as a woman, and I would have helped you, but you insisted that I fuck other men so you could play with them, too. You refused to admit to yourself what you were and made me, me, a submissive woman, recruit male lovers who were prepared to fuck you, too. I did so because I love you and desperately wanted to keep our marriage alive. But then you couldn't even get hard when there was only you and me, Jack. I got bored with only receiving your tongue and fingers when the men I brought home for us to fuck got your cock and orgasms."

Gordon and I exchanged looks, our mouths agape at hearing Mum's version.

"Sam, who we fucked together that night at the Hilton, said he wanted me, Jack. He said he was dominant, and he wanted to own my sexy ass. So, I took from you what I could, the miserly three thousand dollars in our joint account, and went to be with a man who said he wanted to be what I needed--dominant. And what happened? He whored me out that same night, Jack. He sold my ass to the highest bidder, and less than a day after leaving you, I was a whore."

"Why didn't you call and tell us?" I angrily yelled. "Dad wouldn't have cared that someone else had fucked you. I wouldn't care what you'd done because I wouldn't have known. Why didn't you come home?"

"Do you want to tell her, Jack? Or shall I?" Mum said disparagingly. Dad didn't reply, so Mum turned to look at me. "I did call," she said and glared at Dad. "And what did you say to me, Jack? If I remember, it was, 'You left. It's your problem'."

"What?" I screeched at Dad.

"I was drunk and not thinking straight," Dad tried to defend himself.

I was about to rip him a new one, but then my mind shifted. There were still too many inconsistencies in Mum's story. If Sam had whored her out and sold her to the highest bidder, then surely that man would have wanted to recoup his investment? This is Australia, FFS! Maybe that kind of shit happens to illegal immigrants, but to an Australian citizen when all she had to do was get a cop's attention and she was saved? For Mum's story to hold water, the man who'd bought her would have had to be part of an international slavery ring, and she would have been taken to somewhere like Dubai where there was a thriving market for beautiful white women.

Plus, when Mum left, she was one red-hot chicky-babe, no man in his right man is turning her into a street whore. Not when he can make her an escort who earns five to ten thousand dollars a night. All for the reasons above. Yeah. I wasn't buying it. However, something had happened; I just didn't know what. Mum had been abused; that, at least, was certain. She'd been recently anally and vaginally raped, that also was sure. The rest? Fuck knows.

I turned to Dad. "I don't think that Mum's telling the whole truth. There are elements of the truth in there, but she's hiding something. What is clear is that, regardless of the reasons why, Mum needs our help. Hopefully, she'll choose to tell us what really happened at some stage, but she will stay here until she's healthy, and then we'll decide what to do with her after that."

"I'm going to lie down. Carina, will you come and talk to me, please?"

Chapter 3: More Lies.

I looked at Dad, who shrugged and looked at Gordon. Gordon looked at me passively because it wasn't his decision. He was here to support Dad and me, not make our choices for us. I stood and followed Mum to her room. I briefly stopped by my room to get her a nightie and a change of underwear for tomorrow, then joined her. She'd already taken off her dress when I entered her room and was under the covers. But she got out and changed into the nightie before returning to bed.

I was struck again by how emaciated she was. For her body to have consumed the fat in her breasts, leaving them hollowed-out and sagging, meant she'd been hungry for a long time. I wondered if they'd fill back out again. I doubted it and realised that I was considering getting her implants to return them to their former glory when she was healthier. 'Does that mean you've decided to let her stay?' My recalcitrant mind asked itself.

The thing was that Mum and I had gotten along great when she lived with us. Sure, I could have hoped she was more assertive instead of wishy-washy like she was, and I certainly didn't miss the screaming arguments she had with Dad, but she was a caring mum who looked after me and was proud of my academic achievements. So, assuming she genuinely wanted to return, I'd accept her back. So long as she understood this was my home now. I was The Mistress, and all who were under its roof were under me.

"What did you want to talk to me about, Mandy?" I asked briskly once she'd laid under the sheets again.

"I'm your mother, Carina," Mum said. "Please don't call me by my first name; it's disrespectful."

"You abrogated your right to that title when you left, Mandy," I told her icily. "I was just sixteen, discovering boys, becoming a woman. I needed my mother. Where were you, Mandy? Off fucking some guy who beat you and turned you into a whore. And did you return? No! Even though you knew Dad would take you back in an instant, you stayed away rather than return to those who loved you."

"I had no choice," Mandy protested. "Sam took my credit cards, my phone, all of my IDs, then he locked me in a bedroom and sold me to other men."

"Why didn't you say anything or leave him when you were here for the court cases over Dad's money?" I sneered.

Mum began crying, "Because he said he had someone waiting to abduct you if I didn't. He said he'd kidnap you and turn you into his whore, too."

"You expect me to believe that, Mandy?" I disbelievingly said. "This is Australia, Mandy. That shit might happen in the fevered minds of Hollywood writers or the fantasies of the deviates who write and read porn stories. They don't happen in real life!"

Mum sighed but didn't try to insist she was telling the truth. Instead, she asked, "You and your father?"

"He started drinking the day you left," I said bitterly. "Your desertion tore him apart and sent him spiralling into the bottom of a bottle. He stopped going to work, caring for himself and caring for me. I was alone, with a mother who had deserted me and a father who was swilling alcohol like it was lolly water. For two years, I had to watch him drink himself to death. I had to do something, try something.

"In desperation, I called Aunt Janet. She suggested a way out that included becoming Dad's dominant, his Mistress, in all the connotations of that title. So, I fucked him, Mandy. I let him eat my sweet little pussy. I masturbated him until he came over my hand and wrist, and then I let him stick his tiny cock in all three of my holes, Mandy. And what's more, I loved it! You thought Dad could only get erect if there was a man involved? You were wrong, Mandy. All you have to do is dominate him, and he gets harder than advanced calculus."

"But I wasn't dominant, Carina!" Mum protested.

"And I am?" I spat back. "Surely acting that role isn't that difficult if you love the person you're playing it for?"

Mum remained silent for a time before saying, "Did you have to fuck him, though?"

I decided to stick the needle in. "No, I didn't, but, oh my Gawd, he's such a good fuck! His tongue, and that thing he does with his hips so his cock spins over your G-spot? Wow! What woman wouldn't want that?"

Mum looked at me defeatedly. "You're saying I was a bad mother?"

"No," I corrected. "But you were a bad wife. What happened to 'until death do us part'? I didn't realise that phrase meant 'until it gets too hard and I can't be bothered."

"I needed more than he offered," Mum protested.

"And he was happy for you to get what you needed outside your marriage. How many husbands love their wives enough to let them get what they need from another man? How many husbands encourage their wives to stray because they know what they offer in bed isn't enough?"

"He wanted me to stray because it got him what he needed--a stiff cock up his gay ass!" Mum growled.

"So, win-win, right?" I shouted. "You both get what you want. Isn't that what a marriage is about?"

"I swore in my vows to be faithful only to him, eschewing all others!" Mum shouted back.

"Lutheran Church vows, right?" I sneered. "Predestination? You're going to Hell anyway. So, why not have some fun along the way? You're not even religious, so what does it matter? No. That was an excuse to do what you wanted. The truth is that you thought Samuel damned Crowther was a better meal ticket than Dad, so you leapt onto his gravy train. Tell me, Mum, how long before Sam got sick of you and tossed you out? No more bullshit about being sold into prostitution."

Chapter 4: Finally, the Truth.

The truth came out then. The constantly asking for and expecting Samuel to give her nice things, take her to exotic places, overseas trips and holidays, and nights on the town, all without contributing a damned thing except being a pretty woman on his arm and a ready and willing fuck. However, Sam's trajectory was towards increasing wealth, and she was a depreciating asset--a forty-five-plus-year-old woman whose best years were behind her. He had money, power, and prestige. There were many much younger women who looked equally as good on his arm, whom he could date and spend his money on, and who could give him an heir. He gave her a week to get out.

She was already on her third man when she tried to get some of Dad's money so she could move out from him, too. The months passed, and she moved from man to man, milking each of them for what she could, but keeping nothing for the future--always living in the present. But it was a downward spiral. Each month, she was a little older, a little more worn, and each man was progressively poorer and less able to look after her than the previous one until the last one did make her hook for him and beat her when she didn't.

In protest, Mum stopped taking care of herself. She stopped removing her body hair, bathing, dying, or even combing her hair, and eventually stopped eating. Mason, her last man, the one who whored her out, kicked her out. She waited until he'd gone out and then broke into his home. She was owed, or so she thought. Mason had a cashbox full of the money he earned from whoring her out and selling drugs. She wanted what was in it; she was owed. He found her before she'd gone two blocks, dragged her back to his house, and he and another prostitute punched and kicked the hell out of her. They dumped her on the street.

A kindly officer of the Salvation Army found her and took her to the hospital. She, stupidly, fled the following day because she thought Mason wanted to kill her. She tried living on the streets, but even starved, unkempt, and smelly, she was still a step above most of the homeless on the streets, and she was repeatedly raped. The last part of her original story was almost true--she was walking the street hooking when a man offered her fifty dollars for a blowjob. The stupid bitch took off with his wallet when she had his trousers around his ankles.

She didn't even get a block away before the man caught her, beat her, and took back his wallet. The same man from the Salvation Army found her again. Another hospital visit ensued. This time, the officer stayed with her. In the morning, he asked if she had any family, and I suspect he paid for her airfare to Brisbane from his own money. That's where we were now.

"I suppose you're kicking me out now?" Mum said fearfully. "Now that you know your mother is a commons street whore who has effectively descended from being a high-priced one."

"Dad's angry at you still for abandoning him," I pointed out. "But I know that he hasn't stopped loving you. It's when he's reminiscing about you and the times you had together and blaming himself for making you leave that I fear that he'll fall off the wagon the most. It will take time, but if you're genuinely sorry for abandoning him, I'm sure he'll accept you back."

"But he won't want me sexually. What kind of marriage is that?"

"He wants me," I calmly stated. "All I have to do is march in and demand he do something for me, and along with a little blue pill, he's harder than sunbaking in a snowstorm."

"But he's become a woman. What's with that?"

"Did you look past his hurt and affront at you, Mandy?" I asked. "Truly looked at him? He was a handsome man, but, Gawddamn, he's one hot chicky-babe! But it's not so much how he looks; it's the inner happiness that shines through. Dad likes himself and who he is for the first time in his life. He has friends and lovers, some of whom are as young as me.

"Gordon takes him out and treats him like a princess, which he adores, and he's having sex with partners who love what he brings to the bed. We don't care that he needs to be dominated or to suck a cock to get off because we love that he's attentive to what we want and ensures we all have many orgasms before he takes what he wants. Who doesn't want a lover like that?"

I glared at her. "Dad said you were a selfish lover, believing that the mere fact you were gorgeous should have been enough. You were passive and unresponsive. If that's true, and I suspect it is, it's no wonder men continually dumped you. Where's the enjoyment in fucking a knot hole in a pretty plank?"

"Wait," Mum protested. "You mean Gordon's gay?"

"He fucks me," I said drily. "So, I'd guess bisexual with a strong preference for men." I looked at her and saw the cogs turning in her brain. "He would have zero interest in porking an almost fifty-year-old, emaciated ex-whore let alone supporting one," I said disparagingly. "And if you're already looking for your next meal ticket because you think Dad's a woman and you can't get any money out of him, then you can get your saggy ass out of bed and fuck off now."

I glared at her. "Dad's money is even more inaccessible to you now because not only is it still hidden in The Family Trust, but I'm also the executor of Dad's share. So, if you're here looking for money, then I will take you into town and drop your avaricious ass on a street corner. Maybe the homeless in Brisbane have better class than wanting to fuck some old hag, but I doubt it."

"You'd toss your mother out?"

"In a heartbeat if I thought it was the best for Dad, and to a lesser extent, me."

"You hate me," Mum wailed.

"No," I denied flatly. "I hate what you did and are doing to Dad. I don't hate you. Hating you would require me to expend more energy than I intend on you." I stood to leave but turned back. "My girlfriend is coming for dinner tomorrow night. If your daughter having a lesbian lover is too much for you, then I suggest you either get over it, or fuck off before she gets here."

Was that sexual excitement I saw in her eyes? Mum's eyes dropped to study my partially exposed breasts in my tight top, and then dropped lower to where my sweet little pussy hid under my micro-miniskirt. She licked her lips, which were all classic signs of arousal. A plan, fully formed, leapt into my brain--it was time to make Mum my bitch and return her to health and my dad. I'd make her my submissive lover, which would fulfil her desire to be dominated, and then make her serve beside Dad, which would return her to him as he's always wanted. I considered going further--making her a bimbo. I liked that thought... a lot!

"I'd like to meet her," Mum said modestly. "I hope I don't embarrass you too much."

Chapter 5: The Following Morning.

I shrugged, heading to my room to phone Tasha. I didn't think she'd be bothered by my mother being there, too, but it was best to make sure. "Hey, gorgeous," Tasha said when I called her. "What's up?"

"Me, not up, you," I teased. "I plan on fixing that tomorrow night."

"Aww, how sweet," Tasha joked back. "You miss me."

I'd become quite adept at using my strap-on. Unlike Tasha's, mine is a double-ended one that I was tight enough to use on her without having to buckle it on. However, I usually did it for extra security. Tasha was quite dominant herself, so she typically took the lead when we fucked. However, at least once during the night, Tash, as I liked to call her, wanted to be held down and fucked, and I was more than happy to do that for her.

"Of course, I miss you," I kidded. "I was never that good a shot, and you run so fast." Tasha was training for the 2026 Commonwealth Games in the 400m hurdles. She just missed making the team for the Olympics, but qualification for the Com Games wasn't as strict as for the Olympics, so I thought she'd make this team.

"Straight into your arms, baby. Straight into your arms. Anyway, as I said, what's up?"

"Mum's appeared out of the woodwork," I told her.

"She has?" Tash gasped. "Where is she?" Of course, I'd told her all about Mum and Dad and how Mum had ripped his heart out and stomped on it in front of him.

"At my place. She looks like shit and says she's been living on the streets in Sydney for about a year. You'll meet her tomorrow night. Well, assuming you still want to come over?"

"Of course, I'm coming, silly," Tasha admonished. "You're my girlfriend, and I wouldn't miss a date with you for the world."

"I just thought maybe Mum being there might freak you out," I explained.

"Hmm," Tasha said teasingly. "If she's hot like you, maybe I'll swap you for an older model."

"She used to be," I admitted. "But she's been living rough, as I said, and she looks like a scarecrow at the moment."

"Jayz, Carina. You sure know how to pick your parents. An alcoholic tranny for a father, and a drug-fucked mother."

Fortunately, I knew my girlfriend was kidding, right? "She's not on the gear," I defended. "Gordon ran blood tests to make sure. But it sounds like she tried to starve herself to death."

"So, a suicidal drug-fuck?" Tasha teased. "That's so much better. Makes my stick-up-their-asses, religious parents seem almost normal."

"I'm ignoring you," I told her. "Because I'm lying on my back on my bed. I'm naked, and I've just showered and moisturised my long, shapely legs. My button is thick and aroused and my pussy's wet because I've been playing with myself and imagining eating my girlfriend's pussy."

"That is so unfair," Tasha growled, arousal heavy in her voice. "I'm at the athletic club where I can't get myself off."

"Yeah, shame that," I teased. "See you when you get here tomorrow."

"I will spank you when I get there," Tash forcefully said.

"Oh, promises, promised," I kidded. "Besides, you'll be too busy holding my head to your pussy and screaming with pleasure to remember to spank me."

"Bitch!" Tasha giggled. "I'll hold you to that."

"That being your pussy?" I asked innocently. "Isn't that what I just said?"

"Alright, smarty-pants, with the clever word games. I have to go run laps. See you tomorrow, lover."

"Looking forward to it. I love you, Tasha Melancholy (her name was Malakhov, so close enough)."

"Love you, too, Moreshit (Morshuis, so you know, pet names)." She disconnected the call.

Gordon and Dad joined me in my bed that night. I loved it when Gordon bent Dad over and rammed his thick cock into Dad's ass. Dad is such a submissive slut that he orgasms to the pain every time. Inevitably, Gordon makes Dad wear his cock cage when he plays with him. Because Dad's cock can't get hard, his mind gives him a P-spot orgasm instead of a cock based one, which are apparently much more intense.

Not long after Gordon had joined Dad and me in bed for the first time, he gave me a comparison by continuously tapping on and stroking my G-spot until I had the most intense orgasm I'd ever had. I can tell you that if a P-spot orgasm is as fierce as a G-spot one, then it was no wonder that Dad was non compos mentis for several minutes afterwards.

Of course, the night's highlight was being double-penetrated. I got done both ways. The first time I rode Gordon as Dad fucked my ass, and then after we recovered, I rode Dad as Gordon banged me in my bottom. I was sure Dad had shut my door when he and Gordon entered my room, but my door was partially open when I got up to clean myself. I shrugged and shut it, then rejoined my men in bed.

When I got up, Mum was already sitting at the kitchen table. Dad was showering in my en suite, and I didn't know where Gordon was, sleeping in the guest room, I assumed. She looked away embarrassedly when I entered the room, and acting intuitively, I said, "Did you enjoy the show last night?

Mum blushed bright red, which confirmed my intuition, but replied, "I have no idea what you're talking about, Carina."

I looked at her steadily and said, "You will refer to me as Mistress, Mandy. This is my domain now. If you want to live beneath its rooves, then you will acknowledge me as Mistress of this domain."

"I am your mother, Carina," Mum sputtered. "I will do no such thing!"

"You gave up that title, Mandy," I growled. "You thought with your slut cunt and not your minuscule brain. If you will not acknowledge me as your Mistress, then Dad will drop your flabby ass in The Valley on his way to work, and you can return to the streets."

"You'd condemn your mother to the streets?" Mum gasped.

"If I had one, then no," I snarled disparagingly. "But I don't have one, do I, Mandy? I have an egg donor who abandoned her only child to pursue a wealthier life."

And there it was--that instant look of lustful arousal and denial. Thinking about submitting to her daughter excited Mum; she just hadn't admitted to that desire yet. Mum blinked, and the look was hidden behind dutiful acceptance.

"The dress you're wearing will do until we can go shopping," I informed her. "I'm taking today off uni, too, and after breakfast, we'll shop for some clothes that will fit. I'll make omelettes because my lovers," sticking the knife in, "Gordon and Dad like them. While I'm preparing them, you will use the en suite in my room. After showering, you will use the razors in the medicine cabinet to remove all hair below your chin. Then, you will return to the kitchen naked so I can ensure you have obeyed."

Mum opened her mouth to protest, but before she could, I growled, "Do not test me, Mandy. You will not like my response. I'm not above taking the rolling pin to your ass like I had to do to Dad several times before he learned to obey me."

Mum stood and meekly left for my room. Dad passed her in the kitchen doorway, and he turned to look at her wonderingly. He turned back to me, and I shrugged. He didn't need to know that I'd decided to make my mother my submissive slut. I handed him an omelette, which he ate, and then he left for work. I can't tell you how proud I am of him. He's a completely different person since transitioning--focused, determined, loving, and caring. I love him so much.

Gordon bustled in after Dad had left, complaining about being late for the clinic. I put his omelette in a takeaway container, added a plastic fork and a coffee in a travel mug, and sent him on his way. He laughed when I spanked his muscular ass on his way out. "Love you, too, Carina," he chuckled. "See you tonight."

Gordon had shows to do at Sporties later tonight, but the first one wasn't until 10:30 p. m., so he'd have dinner with us before he drove into town.

I made two more omelettes. Mandy returned with a towel wrapped around her emaciated body as I tipped the second one onto a plate. "Drop the towel, dumb ass," I told her. Mum reluctantly dropped her towel. I didn't know much about Bdsm, but there was a pose that I loved. The submissive knelt with her forehead on their forearm. Their other hand reached between their lewdly spread legs and held their pussy open. The pose was designed so the dominant could 'inspect' the submissive to ensure she was hair-free. I ordered Mum to take that position.

Mum protested by refusing to form the pose, but she reluctantly assumed it when I took her rolling pin out of the drawer. There was an immediate problem with Mum's supposed resistance--as soon as she knelt and exposed her pussy, it was apparent that my controlling her, turned her on because her pussy dripped arousal. Following what I'd seen described, I knelt behind Mum's ass and ran my fingers over her armpits, then, satisfied she'd removed the hair there, I ran my fingers over her rib cage before cupping her droopy tits and squeezing them.

Mum's nipples responded to my attention, stiffening under my palms. I tweaked and twisted them before continuing my 'inspection'. She still had hair around her anus, so I spanked her several times before sending her back to my bathroom to fix the problem.

She returned a short time later and assumed the earlier pose without me having to order her to. She was hairless this time, so I used my finger to stimulate her clit as I crooned, "There's my good little slut. Do as your Mistress orders, and she will be kind to you." I removed my finger and slapped her ass viciously. I almost laughed when I saw how it rolled like jelly from my slap, but I managed to hold it in. "Disobey me, however," I continued. "And I will punish you until you learn your lesson."

It had been less than a day, but I'd already learned that, unlike Dad, Mum does not like pain. It made my task simpler because I could use the threat of pain to mould her into how I wanted her. Giving her orgasms to reward good behaviour would be the carrot to pain's stick.

Mum's bruising had already lessened, which added some proof to her assertion that she'd been beaten daily. I didn't know what state her ass and pussy were in, so I didn't penetrate her lest I hurt her. I would try to ensure that she only suffered pain when she disobeyed me. It was a balancing act because I thought with her submissive nature, she'd enjoy being restrained and some light spanking, but pain wasn't a reward for her as it was for Dad. I sat back at the table and told her to eat her breakfast.

Mum reluctantly stood and picked up her towel. "Naked," I informed her. It wasn't a pretty sight. Mum's skin hung loosely on her bones. Each rib was sharply outlined, as were her collarbones and chest. Her breasts hung like the dugs of a seventy-year-old native woman who had never worn a bra. Mum's skin was sallow from her poor diet and lack of exposure to the sun. Plus, she was covered in black and yellowing bruises from her neck to her thighs and down to her elbows.

"Mason would beat me when I refused to whore for him," Mum said resignedly at my shocked stare. "Then he'd tie me face down on the bed and let the men who'd paid him fuck whichever hole they desired. Some would delight in making me scream by taking both. Most wouldn't even spit on their hand and rub it on their cocks first."

No one deserves to be treated like that. No one! However, I could do nothing with my anger, so I moved on to more mundane matters. "We'll go shopping after breakfast," I told her. "My dresses are too big for you, and we need to get you some lingerie that will fit. Now that you're eating again, you'll put some weight back on, so it's no use buying too much because in a few weeks, they won't fit. Fortunately, money isn't an issue, and the Sallies (Salvation Army) will gladly accept any near-new clothes we drop off later. So, eat up, and we'll get moving."

I'd only made Mum a one-egg omelette with a little bit of ham, mushrooms, and tomato. Even so, she struggled to eat it all. Omelettes are good fast breakers because although they're full of protein, they're relatively light to eat. I planned on purchasing some ham hocks while we were out because a Google search told me that bone broth was one of the best foods to consume after a fast, and I thought some pea and ham soup would work the same.

To cover my discomfort, I joked, "You should write a diet book, Mandy. We could call it 'The Mandy Morshuis' Guaranteed Weight Loss Method'. It would be a short book, though. One chapter, page, and a sentence of just six words: Don't eat anything for three months. I can see it now: Women will take one look at how skinny you are in your photo on the cover, and they'll line up around the block to purchase it. You could do book tours where you sign their books, reiterating, 'That's right! If you eat nothing and drink only water for three months in a row, you, too, can look this thin!'"

Mum smiled wanly before looking around the kitchen. Her eyes settled back on mine, and she said, "It doesn't look like anything in here has changed since I left. You have a new lounge suite, and Jack's bed is different. Everything else is the same."

"Jacqui's mattress has been replaced," I chided. "Mandy, if you refuse to acknowledge reality, then you can take your flabby ass outside and fuck off. I know there's been a severe pushback against the transgender community recently, but they brought that upon themselves by trying to force their reality onto everyone else.

"Look at Dad's work; he presents as a woman despite all of his plaques and certificates saying he's a man, and nobody cares because he simply goes about his work quietly and effectively. Imagine, however, if he returned after a two-year absence and immediately demanded that everyone acknowledge that he is a woman and insisted on using the women's toilets and changing rooms?"

Mum waited for me to continue. "He didn't do any of that. He simply met with the other senior partners and said he'd like to come back but be dressed as he was. They didn't object, and after he'd been back a fortnight, one of the female partners asked why he was using the men's room when he was so clearly a woman. She knew he was a man transitioning to female, and she invited him to use the ladies room despite that. That's how you effect change, Mandy, through Gandhi-like quiet revolution."

"I was married to your father for seventeen years before I left, Carina," Mum protested mildly. "It will take time for me to see him as Jacqui. Besides, you still call him 'Dad'."

"Well, he's hardly my mother, is he?" I facetiously growled. "He's a woman, but he's still, and always will be, my father first, and at least he never took off on me." I glared at her, reminding her she had abandoned my father and me. "Go and stuff your suet-like body into a dress and put on some sneakers. We'll go to Westfields Carindale and buy you some clothes that fit."

Chapter 6: Shopping.

Mum returned after dressing, and we headed out. When we got in my car, Mum said, "This and your father's car must be over six years old. Why haven't you updated them?"

"Why do we need to?" I asked. "My car has barely 80,000 kms on the clock, and Dad's has way less than that. There's nothing wrong with them, and if there was any real benefit in changing them, then The Trust's accountant would have called and suggested we did."

"Why have all that money if you're not going to spend it?" Mum argued.

"Why buy things you don't need just because you can?" I countered. "That's your problem, Mandy. You're avaricious and only care about money. Dad and I would rather The Trust use most of what our portion earns as they are: Supporting various community clinics, computers for schools, reading and writing projects, and The Smith Family. Gordon runs a transgender health and support clinic in The Valley, which The Morshuis Family Trust funds. That's a far better use for that money than buying another car I don't need."

"But you could be travelling the world, visiting all kinds of exotic places and having the time of your life," Mum protested.

"You did that," I pointed out. "How did that work out for you? Are you any happier for having done it?" I parked at the shops and got out before she could answer.

"I was at the time," Mum said bitterly when she caught up.

"And if you'd saved that money instead of spending it, where would you be now?" I asked as we examined the electronic map and worked out where Bras 'N' Things was. It turned out it was just behind us, and we must have walked past it on our way to the board. I was too busy trying to get Mum to see why she was wrong to notice.

"Well, I guess I wouldn't have had to crawl back to my husband on my hands and knees and beg him to take me back," Mum admitted.

Seriously! I was losing hope! If the only reason she'd returned was because she had nowhere else to go, then there was no point in keeping her with us. Despite my anger at her and my threats to throw her back onto the streets, she was my mother, and I wouldn't let her starve or force her to live unsafely. Instead, I'd use The Trust's money to purchase a one-bedroom unit in a safe neighbourhood and allocate her a small stipend. It would be enough for her to live on, but if she wanted any luxuries, she'd need to find a job to earn them.

Marla, the assistant who greeted us, took Mum to the changing rooms and measured her. Despite their sag, Mum's breasts, when adequately supported by a bra, were still an impressive Double-D. Her hips, which her skin sagged over, were still only a size 32, and her waist, despite being flabby, was only twenty-two inches. Marla, who said she moonlighted as a fitness instructor after work and on weekends, said that if Mum began regular exercise, her skin would tighten back up, and she'd regain most of her original, lush figure.

Mum's tits were a lost cause, though. Her body would never redistribute any extra fat back into them. I decided I'd call Dad's cosmetic surgeon and book to have them reduced and tightened and for inserts to be put in. I thought Mum deserved that.

Marla, Mum, and I selected several bra and panty sets, some chemises and half-slips, a few pairs of pantyhose, and some nighties. Marla took me to the register to tote everything up as Mum dressed into one of her new lingerie sets, pantyhose and the dress she wore into the shop. "I hope the asshole who did that to your mother is in jail," Marla spat.

"No," I said regretfully. "But she's safe now, so it's all good."

"Your father?" Marla asked, making the natural assumption.

"Lord in Heaven, no!" I exclaimed. "Mum left us for the asshole that did this to her. But she's home now, and I'll ensure he never gets near her again."

"It's good that your father is willing to take her back despite her leaving him for another man," Marla said evenly. I was pretty sure she didn't believe it wasn't Dad who'd belted her.

"He hasn't forgiven her yet," I explained. "But I'm the Mistress of my home, and he'll do what I say."

Marla laughed before saying, "What I'd give to make my dad my bitch! The annoying twat still gets his nose out of joint when I bring lovers home."

"Lovers, as in plural?" I teased. "I'm not sure if I'd handle my daughter bringing home two or more lovers simultaneously either."

"No, you tease!" Marla laughed. "I meant one at a time, but that I've had more than one."

"So, one at a time, but a continual parade?" I asked, pretending to be perplexed. "I'm not sure if that's any better."

"Two. I have had two!" Marla laughingly protested. "Hardly a parade." Mum still hadn't appeared, so she looked at me speculatively. "I don't suppose you like girls, do you?"

"Maybe," I replied. "My girlfriend certainly thinks I do." I checked Marla out and liked what I saw. Marla was probably in her early thirties, taller even than me, and lean like a whippet. She wore a purple button-down blouse that clung to her A-cup breasts and black, clinging trousers.

I offered, "My girlfriend Tasha and I will be at The Wickham on Saturday night. Why don't you come out and meet us? We're meeting Natalie Nylons there and then going up to Sporties to watch her first show." I didn't mention that Dad would be there, too, because I didn't want to explain that he was transitioning.

"What time?" Marla asked as Mum approached.

"We'll be there about eight," I said. "We'll get dinner and then head up to Sporties."

"Your girlfriend won't mind a third wheel?"

"Nah, she'll be cool. Besides, we're only meeting for a drink and a chat, right? It's not like we're going to jump into bed together immediately."

I paid for our purchases and then texted Tash. "Call me when you get a chance. Nothing important or urgent."

I took Mum to Millers, where we bought several dresses, tops, blouses, skirts, and trousers. With Mum being fifty and not looking her best, I insisted on clothes that were fairly modest. We'd buy some racier gear when she was healthy. I thought that if I could get her toned up, Mum would return to being a red-hot chicky-babe like she was before she left. Breaking her to my will was the first step, then making her my pussy slave would be next. Dad was already one, so I thought it was only fair to make Mum mine, too.

We stopped by the food court for a light lunch, and then we purchased some new shoes from Williams Shoes, got the makeup basics from David Jones, and headed home. Mum looked so good in her new outfit that as we were putting her new clothes away, I asked how she felt.

Chapter 7: The Rest of the Afternoon.

"Better than I have for quite some time," She stated. "You've dressed me more conservatively than I typically do, but it's nice to dress for comfort instead of trying to attract someone."

"Yeah, you've basically been a call girl for the last three years," I said brutally. It was time to begin to break her. "That ends now. I will break you down and remodel you into someone my father and I can love again. You can count on that, Mandy." I stared at her steelily. "You will start now. Strip and assume the same position I told you to make this morning."

"Carina!" Mum protested shrilly. "I am your mother! I will not act like that in front of you!"

Mum was too bruised for me to punish her physically, but I could still use mental and emotional manipulation to bring her to heel. "You will, Mandy, or I will put you over my knee and spank your ass with the rolling pin like I had to do to Dad several times until he learned to obey me."

"Carina!" Mum screeched.

"Mistress!" I said firmly.

"I will not call you 'Mistress'!" Mum denied.

"Three choices, Mandy. One: You call me Mistress. Two: I get the rolling pin and whale you saggy ass until you call me Mistress. Three: I throw your scrawny body onto the streets, and after several days of being beaten and raped, your come crawling back and call me Mistress. Did you hear the common thread, Mandy? In each of your three choices, you call me Mistress. So, which choice will you make?"

Mum stood looking at me fearfully, with tears welling in her eyes. I steeled my resolve, crossed my arms and stared her down, tapping my toe. She still didn't move, so I unfolded my arms and stepped towards the door. "The rolling pin it is, then."

"No!" Mum blanched. She reluctantly peeled her dress off her shoulders and stepped out of it. She started to get onto her hands and knees, hoping I'd let it pass, but there was no way I was letting it.

"Pantyhose, bra and panties, too," I demanded impatiently.

"Please, Carina, don't do this," Mum pleaded.

"Mistress!" I roared. "It's strip, get the rolling pin, or get the fuck out of my house. Which do you choose?"

Mum sniffled, but I saw an apparent contradiction when she removed her bra. Her nipples were crinkly hard with sexual excitement. Then, when she removed her pantyhose, her panties were damp with her arousal. So damp that they'd soaked through into an obvious wet patch. She hesitantly got on her hands and knees, placed her forehead on her forearm and reached between her legs. I grinned when I saw her fingers appear and part her pussy lips, exposing her tight entrance. Arousal oozed from her pussy even though she denied her excitement.

I knelt behind her and ran my fingers over her bony body with its sagging skin. Doing that wasn't particularly sexual, but it was getting Mum used to me touching her erotically. Leaning over her back, I cupped her deflated jugs and lightly rolled her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. They responded by stiffening further, and I could hear Mum's breath catch.

"If you turn out to be some use to Dad and me," I informed her. "I'll fly you to Melbourne and get these fixed for you. But I'm thinking of making you my little bimbo, so I think that I'll ask the surgeon to give you at least a G-cup. Maybe even more. What do you think, Mum? Would you like some balloon-like tits on your chest? I bet that plenty of men would want to buy you pretty things if you did."

"No," Mum moaned despite the heat coming off her pussy, which I could feel because I had my pussy pressed against her bare ass. "That would be too big and will hurt my back."

I moved back and pulled my skirt up. Then I lowered my panties and pushed my lasered-bare pussy against her ass. Mum gulped when she felt my heat against her ass, but then she unawarely wriggled her ass, trying to feel it better. "Yeah, but I like the idea of my mother having big bimbo tits and being my obedient little slave, so I'll probably get Marcus, that's the cosmetic surgeon, to give you them anyway. Probably some hip inserts to give you a bimbo ass, too."

"No, Ca... Mistress, please. I don't want to be your slave or a bimbo."

I moved back and pulled my panties up and my dress down. Then, I fingered Mum's clit as I explored her flabby ass with my other hand. "Do you want to cum, Mum?" I cheekily asked, thinking, 'You may not want to be those things, but you will be both!'

"No!" Mum denied, even though she was shuddering and on the cusp of an orgasm. "I'm your mother, for goodness sake. I do not want my daughter touching my bits, let alone making me cum!"

I didn't respond, but when I rimmed her asshole with my thumb, she orgasmed anyway. "That's a good start, Mandy," I told her. "Remember, those are always your choices. Deny and disobey me, and I'll punish you either physically or emotionally. But do as I want you to, and I will reward you. Get dressed and do your makeup, Mandy. My girlfriend will be here soon, and you wouldn't want to embarrass me."

I stalked out and called Peter, my hairstylist, and asked for an appointment for the following week. It had to be after 4:00 p. m. to give me time to get home from uni, pick Mum up, and drive to his salon.

Tasha arrived about an hour later. She had her own key and the alarm codes if no one was home, so she let herself in and found me in the kitchen making dinner. Because I know exuberant PDAs make her uncomfortable, I squealed like an excited teenage girl seeing her favourite boy band member, ran across the kitchen, and leapt into her arms.

"You're such a fucking bitch," Tasha muttered as I rained kisses over her face. Still, she held my ass and ground her jeans-covered pussy against my barely covered one, so all good. "Watcha making?" She asked after letting me down when I wriggled.

"Broiled chicken breasts and white rice," I lied because I knew she needed way more than that. Tasha was in the midst of her winter fitness program. She was running nearly a hundred kilometres a week and going to the gym four to five times a week as well. She needed lots of red meat and dark green vegetables to get the protein and iron she needed to rebuild damaged muscle and ensure she didn't become anaemic.

"That doesn't look much like chicken," Tasha observed, poking the meat I'd sliced into slivers.

"Girl, you need your eyes tested," I joked. "Anyone can tell that's the famous Kentucky chicken the colonel uses for his restaurants."

We didn't keep alcohol at home for obvious reasons, so I made Tash a tall glass of iced mineral water with a dash of lime and a slice on the side. I had the same except with lemon, and Tash drank it as she stood close to me, picking at the pear slices and walnut pieces I was mixing through washed spinach leaves. I had some potatoes baking in the oven, but I wouldn't sear the steak slivers until Dad and Gordon got here. We exchanged lots of kisses and cuddles as I made the salad.

I liked having a girlfriend although I preferred cock to pussy. Women are much easier to talk to, and they're so much softer than men. I guess my ideal would be a real-life version of the Futanari women Japanese porn writers are so fond of--a woman with a nice thick cock to fuck me with. Tasha's strap-on was an adequate substitute, but it wasn't the same as being properly fucked by a man who had a thick cock and knew how to use it. Like Gordon, for instance. Unfortunately, Tasha and I knew my preference for cock would eventually drive us apart, which is why we'd never fully committed even though we loved each other immensely.

We were cuddling, kissing and grinding against each other when Mother entered the kitchen. "Oh," she said, startled. "I'm sorry. Umm... I..."

I looked over and hid my grin when I saw that her nipples tented her dress front. "Mandy, this is my girlfriend, Anastasia, but she prefers Tasha. Tasha, Mandy."

Tasha let me go before she hugged my mother. "Pleased to meet you, Mandy. I hear life has been a bit rugged for you lately. So, I hope you're recovering okay?"

"It's only been a little over a day," Mum replied. "But being home is better than being on the streets."

"This is not your home," I said coldly. "You gave up the right to call it that when you abandoned us. I let you stay here because it's the right thing to do. However, I haven't decided whether you can remain with us or if I'll ask The Trust to buy you a one-bedroom apartment somewhere."

Mum looked at me, shocked, as Tasha eyed me speculatively. Tasha didn't know how angry I still was with my mother.

"You wouldn't!" Mum exclaimed.

"In a heartbeat," I said firmly. "If your presence causes Dad to backslide even a millimetre, your ass is out of here. I will always choose the parent who stayed over the one who abandoned me!"

"At least you know where you stand," Tasha said cheerfully. "Come on, Mandy. I'll make you a drink. What do you want? Some sparkling mineral water with a dash of lemon or lime, like we're drinking. Or a cup of tea or coffee, perhaps?"

"Mineral water with a dash of lemon, please," Mum replied.

I took my drink to the kitchen table and seethed as Tasha bustled around, making Mandy a drink. I didn't wholly understand why Mum calling this place her home angered me so much. But I think it was the casual assumption she'd be staying. If I could break her and bring her back to Dad as an equal slave to him, and I was sure that was what Dad wanted, I'd probably let her stay. But Mum had a lot of hurdles to jump before that day came. And if Dad slipped into the bottle again at any stage, she'd be gone so fast her head would spin.

Dad and Gordon arrived at the same time. I was still sitting at the table, fuming. But I hugged Dad before making him a mineral water with a dash of lime, as he liked. Simultaneously, I put the kettle on to make Gordon a pot of tea, which is what he preferred. Well, he would have preferred a beer, but he didn't drink around Dad. Once the kettle was on, I leapt into Gordon's arms and wrapped my ankles around his knees, which is the highest place I can manage to widen my legs enough to grip. As he typically did, Gordon grabbed my ass and kissed me fiercely.

Gordon let me down before Tasha leapt into his arms and demanded he did the same thing. Tasha regularly fucked me with Gordon, especially when Gordon remained in drag. Of course, she wouldn't touch his cock or let it touch her, but she regularly rode his face or let him go down on her. Tasha was more active with Dad, even having gone to the point of riding Dad's tiny todger. Tash considered my father a woman with a 'built-in' strap-on, and she showed no hesitation when making love to him.

Mum watched this wide-eyed but didn't say anything. Then, Dad and Tasha kissed passionately, which widened Mum's eyes further. But when Dad and Gordon shared a sizzling kiss, I thought her eyes would pop out of her head. Quite frankly, I couldn't have cared less if Mum was bothered by Dad's intimacy with others. If she was, then she could get over herself because it wasn't as if she'd been celibate for the last three years.

With everyone settled at the table and drinks in their hands, I turned on a burner and heated a non-stick, ceramic pan. I tipped in the steak slivers, dropped in a thick dollop of butter and then covered them with a healthy sprinkle of Moroccan spice. Then, I placed a clear lid over them and returned to the table. Dad and Tash talked about their days while Gordon talked to Mum quietly. Mum's glances in my direction indicated they were probably discussing me. But I wasn't concerned because I knew Gordon would back any move I made as long as it didn't involve physically hurting my mother.

The steak was done, so I mixed it through the spinach, pear and walnut salad I'd made earlier when Tasha was picking from it, added a blue cheese dressing and brought it to the table. Then I got plates and a baked potato each and put them in front of everyone. They added warm beef salad as desired.

Everyone ate hungrily, and then Dad and Gordon left for Sporties. Mum went to her room, leaving Tash and me in the kitchen. Tasha went to her car, where she had a small twelve-volt fridge, and brought in a bottle of wine. It was our work-around for Dad. I didn't want alcohol in the house, but I wasn't giving up drinking because he had. Tasha suggested she bought the car fridge, which I thought was brilliant because it meant we could share a drink or two after Dad had gone out or to bed.

Chapter 8: Friday Night.

"We might have a friend join us at The Wickham tomorrow," I told Tasha casually.

"A boy?" Tasha asked. Generally, if I mentioned I was going out with someone, that someone was a boy.

"No, some tall skinny bitch who works in Millers at Carindale. She hit on me when I was buying clothes for Mum. I told her I'd be at The Wickham with my girlfriend, but she could meet us there if she wanted to."

"She's hot?" Tasha needlessly asked.

"As if I would have invited her if she wasn't," I huffed. "She's taller even than you," I teased. "She looks like a high-jumper."

"What's her name?" Tasha asked.

"Marla," I informed her.

"Marla Bawden or Turlington?" Tasha queried. "Same woman, but sometimes she uses her mother's surname, and other times her father's."

"No idea," I said. "I just read her name tag."

"I can't imagine there'd be too many Marlas running around who are also tall and skinny," Tashe mused. "I'm guessing she is the high-jumper I know. You're right. She is hot. I didn't know she was a lesbian, though."

"Does she know you're one?" I asked as we moved to the lounge and cuddled on the sofa.

"Probably not," Tasha admitted. "My manager suggested that I stayed in the closet because if I hit the big time, sponsors might not support me if I was openly gay."

"Probably the same for her, then?"

"Probably," Tash agreed.

We kissed and cuddled as we watched a movie, I don't remember which one, so it obviously wasn't that good. Then, around midnight, we went to bed. The last show that Gordon was in wasn't until 1.30 a. m., so he and Dad wouldn't be home until close to three. It would depend on whether they heard that Tasha and I were awake whether they'd join us. I didn't mind either way. None of us worked on Saturday, so we could sleep all day if we wanted to.

Tasha and I kissed and slowly removed each other's clothing. I marvelled again as her stunningly fit and toned body appeared. Mine is much lusher than hers, and although I'm not in any way fat, I only exercise enough to maintain my figure. Beside Tasha's sublimely fit body, I looked quite porky. However, my curves were one of the reasons she adored me. I was always a little melancholy when I thought about the future because I knew we'd eventually have to go our own ways. We could have stayed together if I was prepared to commit solely to her. But I didn't want to live as a lesbian couple with her and only get the occasional bit of cock on the side, probably behind her back.

Once we were naked, we got onto the bed, and I went down on her. I loved her sweet juices and was always amazed by how freely they flowed. Her nubbin engorged as I sucked on it. Tasha has a long, thick clitoris that when she's excited, expands into a tiny cocklet. It's less than a centimetre long but it looks like a fully-formed, miniature penis. I loved it! It felt so good between my lips, and she reacted enthusiastically when I sucked it and battered it with my tongue. Getting her close with my lips and tongue and then firmly biting her clit always crashed my girlfriend into the most stupendous orgasms. Tonight was no exception.

Dragging me up so we could kiss, Tasha then forced her thigh between mine and pressed against my pussy. I was hot and horny, so I immediately humped her leg, my dripping pussy smearing my juices over her thigh. Tasha rolled us so she was on top, and then she took hold of my leg and mashed her pussy against mine. She tribbed her little cocklet over my clit as she licked my calf. Tasha was seriously into foot-play, which, although it didn't do much for me, I encouraged her to do because she enjoyed it so much.

Reaching down so she could play with my nipples, Tasha winked and then whispered, "Don't look now, but your mum's standing at the door, jilling herself as she watches."

Of course, my head wanted to snap around so I could see, but I restrained myself until I could surreptitiously look toward the door. Tasha was right. Mum held her nightie above her naked pussy, and she was vigorously frigging her clit as she watched.

Without revealing that I'd seen her, I quietly muttered, "Want to grab her and make her join us?"

"Fucking a mummy and a daughter together?" Tasha almost silently giggled. "Who wouldn't be in that?"

We rolled so I was on top, and then I quickly stepped off the bed and grabbed Mum's hair. I dragged her into the room and latched the door. I didn't want Gordon and Dad to come home early and catch me playing with my mother. Tossing her towards Tasha, who grabbed her from behind by the elbows, I snarled, "Enjoying the peep show, Mandy? How dare you open my door uninvited and perv on us?"

"I-I-I," Mum stuttered.

Throwing one of her old sayings back at her, I said sternly, "I-I, I have two of them, yes. What's your point?"

"I was curious," Mum wailed. "I heard Tasha screaming her orgasm, and I wanted to see what was happening."

"Curious and horny," Tasha giggled, her fingers delving along Mum's slit. "Get my strap-on out," Tasha ordered. "I'm going to roger the bitch silly."

I shook my head. "Mum was raped before she came here. The doctors found tears in her vagina and ass. He says it'll be at least a week before she can have penetrative sex."

"Oh, shit, Mrs Morshuis!" Tasha exclaimed, jumping away from Mum as if Mum was on fire. "I'm so sorry! I would never have grabbed you if I'd known!"

"No, it's okay," Mum said longingly, leaning back against my girlfriend. "I was enjoying being made to surrender. Please don't stop."

Tasha and I exchanged a long stare. Eventually, I made the decision as I knew she wanted me to. I shook my head and gently said, "No, Mandy. Forcing anyone to have sex is wrong. I won't do to you what you said those men did. But if you want to have sex with Tasha and me then get on your knees between Tasha's legs and lick her pussy."

"I've never had sex with a woman before," Mum said. "I don't know what to do."

"Bullshit, Mandy," I said amusedly. "I'm sure some of your men made you have threesomes with them."

Caught out, Mum sighed, turned onto her hands and knees and lowered her lips onto Tasha's pussy. Tasha moaned when Mum's tongue snaked over her clitoris. "You're right, baby," Tasha panted. "Your mother's definitely eaten a pussy before."

"Don't call her my mother," I snarled. "She doesn't have the right to call me her daughter. She gave that right up when she abandoned me."

Anger seethed through me, remembering Mum's betrayal. I grabbed a handful of her hair and mashed her mouth against my pussy. "Lick, bitch!" I snarled. "Eat my cunt like the dirty whore you are!"

Mum struggled away from my body, protesting, "I will not! You're my daughter. I won't do that!"

With how severely she'd been beaten, I promised myself I wouldn't hit her, too. But Jaysus, I came close! Three years of pent-up anger from her betrayal was seething through me. My hurt, bewilderment, and feelings of inadequacy roiled in my mind, and I wanted to hurt her physically as she'd hurt me emotionally.

Tasha holding my arm brought my exploded temper back under control. "Easy, Carina, my love," she said, kissing my cheek. "Hurting Mandy won't repair the damage she did to you. I know you want her to feel the pain you did when she left you, but this is not the way. Please, my love, take a deep breath and relax."

I shuddered as I forced myself to release Mum's hair. Then, I turned to Tasha and fell into her arms. "Tell her to go away," I wept. "I can't deal with her now."

Mum quickly left, and I fell with Tasha onto my bed and bawled my eyes out. I collapsed into an exhausted sleep, and was only barely aware that Tash told Gordon and my father to fuck off when they came home.

Chapter 9: Saturday Morning.

I struggled awake the following morning. Tasha had wrapped herself around me, and I was held in her arms and between her legs. My girlfriend typically wakes up with a full bladder, so I playfully poked her abdomen. Her eyes sprung open, and she muttered, "Bitch!" before rolling out of bed and almost running into the en suite. I giggled before following her in. I stood, leaning against the wall and admiring her athletic body with her full C-cup breasts, which she bemoaned as too big to run effectively with.

That was clearly crap because she held several age group records and titles, she was the current Australian women's 400m and 400m hurdle champion, and was on the cusp of representing her country. She finished weeing, wiped, and stood. I took her place and did the same thing.

"You okay, babe?" She asked.

"Mostly," I replied. "I'd held that inside for so long that I guess it was inevitable it spewed out at some stage."

"You were quite cruel towards your m... Mandy last night. Are you ready to forgive her yet?"

I shook my head. "Not even close. What happens next is up to Dad. If he wants her back, then I'll come to terms with her abandoning us. But if he says she's gone, I won't hesitate to kick her out. I'll threaten all kinds of things, but I'll get The Trust to buy her a one-bedroom inner city apartment, and dump her saggy ass in there."

"She won't be able to afford the utilities, let alone the rates," Tasha pointed out.

"The unit will remain in The Trust's name," I explained. "The utilities, etc., like this place, will be paid automatically from The Trust. Her only expenses will be food, toiletries, etc. Even the dole will cover those."

"I've got to get me one of these trusts," Tasha joked. "It must be nice not to have to worry about money."

I laughed with her but knew how lucky and privileged I was. Granddaddy Morshuis had invested wisely in several burgeoning businesses like Microsoft and Apple when they were in their infancy. Also, he got lucky when a gold exploration company he invested in found a rich mine in Bougainville. The shares were bought as a tax write-off, but they're now worth nearly eight hundred dollars a share, and The Trust owns one hundred thousand of them.

Tasha and I got dressed and went to the kitchen. No one else was up because it was still quite early. Chatting with Tasha as she ran through her stretches, I grated cheese, sliced bacon, and diced onions. Then, I dropped eight eggs into a measuring jug, added chopped chives and salt and pepper and mixed them with a fork until everything was beaten together. Next, I took out two muffin trays and placed a half-cup sheet of puff pastry in each cup. The bacon slices went in next, followed by the egg mix and diced onions. Finally, I filled the cup with cheese, sprinkled a dash of Tabasco sauce over the cheese and stuck the trays in the oven.

Forty-five minutes later, I brought out the bacon and egg mini-pies, and Tasha grabbed three while I took only one. Mum came in next, attracted by the delicious smell. She took one and then grinned when Tasha returned and took another three pies. Some women would be horrified by how much my girlfriend ate, but with her in the depths of her fitness regimen, I knew she'd probably grab at least another couple before she left for the track. I ate a second one as Tasha finished her sixth, then we kissed, and she shot out the door, carrying two more pies.

"What is the plan for today, Carina?" Mum asked.

"Mistress," I said firmly.

Mum's eyes lowered submissively, and she repeated, "What is the plan for today, Mistress?"

"Your saggy ass needs sun," I told her bluntly. "So, you will put on one of my bikinis and help me tidy the gardens. It's early winter, so you should be able to handle an hour in the sun. Then, we'll cover up and do what remains to be done."

Daytime temperatures in Brisbane are typically between twenty-four and twenty-seven degrees Celsius (75-81), which, as long as there isn't a westerly blowing, is plenty warm enough to be outside in a bikini.

When we went shopping yesterday, we hadn't bought Mum a bikini, but I have several that range from quite conservative to outright scandalous. I made her wear one that was outright scandalous, of course. Mum tried to object, but I ignored her protests and impatiently told her to hurry up. Mum begrudgingly put on an old, battered pair of sneakers I had, and we went outside.

"Wait!" Mum protested. "Why do I have to wear this when you're wearing shorts and a T-shirt?"

Because you're my bitch, and I told you to," I said haughtily.

Mum looked down at the postage stamps that barely covered her thick nipples and clit and sighed. However, she picked up the hoe and began clearing the weeds. She was weakened from her months of privation, so I didn't push her when she needed to rest, which was a lot of the time. After an hour, I took her back inside and got her a cold drink. Gordon and Dad were up, and I was pleased when they eyed Mum avariciously. Dad may have transitioned to female, but he still appreciated a woman's body.

Once we'd rested for around thirty minutes, I allowed Mum to put on a pair of shorts and a top, and we returned to the gardens. I saw Dad standing at the window, admiring our asses as we bent over working. I hoped he was admiring Mum as much as me, but I knew it would be a while before Mum's ass regained its original glory.

After another hour, I called a stop for the day and told Mum to shower and meet me in the lounge naked. She opened her mouth to protest, but I glared and shook my head, so Mum sighed and obeyed. I had a quick shower in my en suite and then looked in the garage for something I couldn't remember if I'd thrown out. When I was about eight, Dad brought home a golden retriever. I loved that dog so much, but he was stupid when it came to traffic.

Only a few days after my twelfth birthday, Tanner, as I named him, ran out onto the road to greet Dad's returning car, and a truck ran him over right before my horrified eyes. I was heartbroken and refused to allow Dad to buy another animal. I thought that his old collar and leash still hung in the garage. I found it, and other than being a bit dusty, it was still in pretty good shape. I washed it in the kitchen sink and then sat on the couch, waiting for Mum to return.

When she did, I made her kneel before me, her shoulders up and back, and her hands, palm-up on her thighs. I told her to close her eyes and placed the collar around her neck, trailing the lead between her saggy dugs. I told Mum to open her eyes, and she looked at the lead disbelievingly. Then, she felt the collar around her neck and looked at me pleadingly.

"You're my bitch now, Mandy," I informed her smugly. "Marking you with my collar only confirms it. After my shower, I'd put on a short sundress and hadn't bothered with panties, so I put one leg on the armrest and lifted the other onto the couch, exposing my bare pussy. "Lick my cunt, slut," I told her.

Mum reluctantly moved onto her hands and knees and stuck out her tongue. She tentatively touched it to my wet slit, but then she moaned and began lapping eagerly. I discovered, as Tasha had the night before, that Mum was no slouch in the pussy licking business. Her tongue danced along my perineum, stabbed into my vulva, slid along my slit, and swirled over my nubbin. Before long, I groaned and held her head to my clitoris as a powerful climax washed through me.

"Make yourself cum," I demanded.

"Carina, no!" Mum protested, looking towards the kitchen.

"Unless you want the rolling pin to kiss your saggy ass, I suggest you remember to call me, Mistress, Mandy," I growled, hiding my grin when I saw Dad and Gordon watching from the kitchen table. "Now, lie on your back, spread your whore legs and make yourself cum. Put on a show for me, and I might let you wear underpants for the afternoon."

Sighing defeatedly and embarrassedly, Mum lay on her back and played with her pussy. Although she was quite wet, her embarrassment overwhelmed her arousal, and I could tell she was about to fake an orgasm. I suddenly dropped off the sofa onto the floor beside her, grabbed and pinched her nipple, and stuffed two fingers into her sopping pussy. Hooking my fingers back, I scraped them over her G-spot as I tweaked her nipple. Surprised, Mum gasped, jerked, and then climaxed like a freight train through a narrow tunnel.

"You say, 'Thank you for my orgasm, Mistress,'" I instructed her.

"Thank you for my orgasm, Mistress," Mum said dutifully. But she was still shuddering, shocked by the intensity of her climax.

"You have some free time, Mandy," I told her. "You may do what you want until Tasha comes home, which won't be until this afternoon. You may go into the backyard and sunbathe if you wish. The sun will do you good."

"May I take the collar off and have some clothes, Mistress?" Mum asked pleadingly.

"No," I firmly replied. "Your first instinct is to resist and disobey me. I will not put up with it. Clothes are a reward for being a good girl, and because you are not, you don't get to wear them." Mum got up and scuttled towards her bedroom, trying to cover her tits and pussy. I couldn't put up with that, so I told her to stand tall with her shoulders back and her tits out, and walk proudly back to me.

Mum reluctantly did what I said. Then I told her to strut into the kitchen and greet Gordon and Dad. If she could do that and walk to her room without covering up, I would let her go. Mum steeled herself and forced a smile onto her face, then she walked serenely to the kitchen, kissed Gordon's and Dad's cheeks, and strode sedately down the hall. Her eyes widened when she saw Gordon's straining erection, but I think seeing him so excited by her gave her enough courage to complete her tasks.

Chapter 10: Mid-morning to Mid-afternoon Saturday.

After Mum had left, I walked to the kitchen and warmed up some of the bacon and egg mini-pies I'd made for breakfast. Dad sat awkwardly, which I realised was because he was sexually excited and trying to go hard but he was inside his cock cage. After consulting with Gordon, who, if you remember, is a psychiatrist who specialises in helping people with gender dysphoria, I decided to keep Dad in his cock cage except for when we were going out.

Gordon, Tasha, and I all had keys to release him if we wanted to play with him, but if he wasn't caged, Dad often masturbated compulsively. It was better to keep him in chastity because he controlled himself better when he was.

Gordon's straining erection and Dad's excitement aroused me, so I knelt on the kitchen floor, making Dad kneel beside me. Gordon took the hint and pulled his pants down. His thick 6+-inch cock sprung into view, and I gobbled him down in a flash. I was really going to town on his cock, and reluctant to share, when Tasha came home. She took one look at the debauchery happening in my kitchen and shoved Dad onto his back. A few seconds later, she had removed Dad's cage, pulled her lycra running shorts off and her lowered her pussy onto Dad's eager face.

Although she didn't mind riding Dad's tiny todger, she wouldn't touch or suck it, but Dad didn't seem to mind. Watching my girlfriend ride my father's face as I sucked my father's lover off, excited me even more, and I began fingering my pussy as I blew Gordon.

Gordon held my head in his strong hands and started face-fucking me. But then, he seemed to change his mind and dragged us all to Dad's room. Then, he moved us into a circle with his cock in my mouth, his mouth around Dad's cock, Dad's mouth on Tasha's pussy, and Tasha's mouth on my pussy. I, at least, was not complaining!

Tasha came on Dad's face first, and her overexcited panting blew over my clitoris, which launched me into a climax, too. Gordon came next, filling my eagerly sucking mouth with his thick sperm. Dad orgasmed when Gordon's hot breaths from his gasps flowed around his todger. However, Dad didn't soften, and Tasha moved to lower herself onto his cock. Dad's hands moved onto her nipples, and they kissed as Tash rode Dad and Dad tweaked her nipples.

I wanted some of that, so I worked Gordon back erect and climbed on him. I rode Gordon reverse cowgirl, and Tash raised herself so we could kiss and play with each other's tits. Gordon's thumb probed at my ass, and I knew I'd soon be double-penetrated. Although Gordon's bisexual, he's primarily gay, so even when he's with a woman, he usually insists on fucking her ass. Tasha wouldn't let him although she occasionally let me fuck her ass with my strap-on when she rode Dad.

As I suspected, Gordon pushed me off his cock, shoved Tasha aside, lowered me onto Dad's todger, and then he loomed over my shoulder, ready to shove his thick dick in my ass. Dad, Gordon, and I indulge in anal sex regularly, so my ass accepted Gordon's thick length into it without too much protest. Tasha watched us, playing with herself, but when I patted my lips with my finger, she straddled Dad's and my heads, held her clitoral hood back, and mashed her pussy against my face. From there, I was a passenger. Dad thrust up, Gordon shoved down, and Tasha held my head and ground her pussy against my face. I was being used to get three people off, and it felt fucking awesome!

Tasha was the first to leap from her peak again. At this stage in our relationship, Tasha was pretty much only having sex with me. At the same time, I'm having sex with her, Tom, Gordon, and my father. Plus, recently, mum, too. It was probably no surprise she was a little more tightly strung and prone to blow than the rest of us.

After her orgasm, Tasha dropped onto her knees and reached between Dad and me to finger my button. We kissed when I could get a breath, but then she whispered, "Your mum's watching and fingering herself again."

I glanced towards the door and saw my mother. She'd peeled her nightie off her shoulders, and her bottoms were around her knees. Mum's right hand cupped her deflated left breast, and she was pinching her nipple viciously as she vigorously thrust two fingers into her pussy. I guessed by how forcefully she was shoving her fingers into herself that her pussy must have repaired itself. Either that, or she was so horny she didn't care that it was hurting.

I considered who might want to fuck her, and realised that probably no one would. I doubted Gordon thought she was sexy. Dad was probably still too angry at her to consider it, and I didn't think Tasha would swap me for her anytime soon. I would have sex with her, but that was about me breaking her into my little pussy slave and bringing her back to Dad as someone he could love.

Well, that's the wrong terminology, but I don't know how to express what I mean. I'm certain that Dad still loves her, but that love is currently hidden by his feeling betrayed and abandoned. I needed to break Mum and make her my slave so Dad would know she'd never leave us again before he could trust her enough that his love will shine through his distrust.

Suddenly, I had a thought about how to break her. A few months ago, to tease Tasha, I bought her a chastity belt. I had her tied to my bed, and I'd teased her mercilessly for over an hour. She was so hot to trot that she was writhing and mewling on the bed, pleading with me to bring her off. Instead, I forced the chastity belt on her and then placed my magic wand vibrator on the leather over her clitoris. I kept Tasha on the edge of an orgasm for another hour before I finally took off the belt and sucked her penis-like, tiny clit into my mouth and bit it firmly.

Tasha doesn't typically squirt but her arousal flows liberally when she cums. That night, Tasha sprayed her lady juices over my face. There was so much that even the mattress was soaked, and after we showered, we had to sleep in one of the spare rooms.

Remembering that night, I disengaged from the lovers' tangle I was in and rolled off the bed. Then, I grabbed Mum's hair and dragged her to my room. I flung her on the bed, got the chastity belt out of the drawer where it had sat since that night, and forced her to wear it. I added the belt's padlock key to the same ring dad's cock cage one was on.

Dragging Mum after me, I pulled her to her knees before the bed and snarled, "You like watching and playing with yourself? Good! Stay and watch! Do not leave that spot, Mandy. You will not like the result if I have to chase after you and haul you back!"

I rejoined those on the bed and dragged Dad between my shapely legs. I lay so my pussy and Dad's ass were practically under her nose. She couldn't help but watch as his meagre cock disappeared into my tight pussy. As he fucked me, I moaned theatrically, and made movements and sounds a porn star would be proud of.

But then, I tilted my head and saw Mum was playing with her breasts and squeezing her nipples. I intuited that she could get off doing that, and I wanted to deny her orgasms, so I pushed Dad off me and got the handcuffs from his nightstand. Getting back off the bed briefly, I cuffed Mum's hands behind her back before welcoming Dad back into my juicy pussy.

The four of us fucked until it was time to shower and head to The Wickham. I was tempted to tie Mum to her bed to prevent her from absconding with anything of value, but I decided trust had to start somewhere.

Chapter 11: Saturday Night.

Tasha and I wore matching outfits but in different colours. We both wore M-slit micro-miniskirts that barely left us decent enough to be in public. Above our skirts, we wore long-sleeved tie-front midi tops that barely covered our unfettered breasts. We had lace-up, high-heeled sandals on our feet that emphasised our muscular calves and made our shapely bottoms pop. In other words, we were a man's wet dream. Shame for them that we were looking for women tonight, not men.

We'd barely sat down when Marla strutted up. I saw her coming from a distance away, grabbed Tasha's elbow and pointed at her. "That's Marla," I whispered.

"Yeah, that's Marla Bawden/Turlington the high-jumper," Tasha acknowledged. "She's like dang hot!"

Marla wore a micro mini that challenged ours for shortness. Her small, conical breasts were barely hidden by a strapless bikini-type top that covered her nipples and not much more. She had a giant, yellow gemstone belly button ring, which made me instantly jealous, wishing I had one. I stood to welcome her, and the others stood, too, when they saw me standing up.

Marla hugged me before kissing Tasha on both cheeks. "Hey, Anastasia," Marla said warmly. "I assume you're the girlfriend that Carina raved about when she and her mum were in the shop earlier this week?"

"That'd be me," Tasha said, quirking her eyebrow at me.

Well, I do tend to carry on about how hot Tash is when I talk about her, so I could hardly protest. I was proud of her and her athletic accomplishments. However, I was careful who I revealed her name to because Tasha doesn't want to be outed just yet. Also, Tasha was always a little embarrassed when I raved on about how hot she was.

I introduced Gordon, who hadn't glammed up yet, and Dad, calling him Jacqui, of course. Marla's eyes widened when I introduced him as my father, but she took it in her stride. Marla sat beside me with Tash on my other, but I quickly swapped because Tasha and Marla started chatting about athletics, which went completely over my head. They were quickly holding hands and laughing as they swapped what I was sure were exaggerated stories about hurdles and high-jumping mishaps. If they were true, then both those events are a nightmare!

Our meals arrived, and we chatted among ourselves as we ate. Then, Dad and Gordon left for Sporties. The band was setting up when Tasha, Marla and I finished eating, so we found spots in the beer garden and settled in to listen. They were only a cover band, and quite frankly, they were ordinary. However, they played songs you could dance to, so we took turns dancing.

Things were heating up between the three of us, with Tasha and I sharing searing kisses with Marla and each other. I was tempted to skip Gordon's first show and head back home with them both in tow, and I probably would have, except I like to sit with Dad through the first show. After that, the other drag queens would take turns sitting with him so he wouldn't be tempted to drink.

There was time for one last dance before we'd need to catch a cab up the hill, so I took Marla to the dance floor and ground against her as we danced.

We had our legs between each other's thighs, with our wet pussies grinding on the other. My hand explored inside her top as she cupped my breast through my top. Our thumbs rubbed the other's nipple, and we both knew we'd be sucking them soon. I was right into it when Tasha came up behind me and pressed her muscular body against me. She leaned in and whispered, "You two are driving me nuts with desire. We'd better get out of here and up to Sporties before I'm on my knees eating your pussies on the dance floor."

We held hands and tripped outside. A cab was just dropping off someone, so we piled into the back and told him to take us to The Sportsman Hotel. Marla was in the middle, and Tasha and I battled to take ownership of her pussy as we rode. Marla sure didn't object! Instead, she lifted her feet onto the car seat and let us feel away!

"Which one's Gordon?" Marla asked when the lights dimmed, and the performers strutted out for the first show.

"The biggest one at the back," Dad said. "That's Natalie Nylons."

"Wow!" Marla exclaimed. "It's hard to believe that's the bloke we were eating dinner with earlier."

She was right, of course. Gordon didn't look like a woman, unlike Dad, who looked like what he was--a mildly attractive, middle-aged woman. I was sure that if Dad sat in a straight bar, he'd have no shortage of suitors trying to get to know him. The problem was how they'd react when they discovered he had 'extra' between his shapely legs.

Gordon looked like an overblown caricature of a plus-sized older woman. His real eyebrows were covered in tape and makeup to hide them, and he'd drawn them back in in thin, exaggerated arches. His makeup was thicker than a French crepe, with his lips painted whore-red and widened to the extreme. Gordon's wig was platinum blonde and as bouffant as Monica Lewinsky's. His mannerisms mimicked those of a typical woman, except he exaggerated them to the nth degree.

Our table cheered, whooped, and hollered when the first part of the show ended. When Gordon came out, still in drag, Marla, Tasha, and I kissed and hugged him, said goodbye, and left.

The Uber ride to my place was a little more sedate than the ride to Sporties, but the driver would have had to have had a blocked nose not to know there were three highly aroused women in his car. We restricted ourselves to holding hands and the occasional kiss, even though our desire burned brightly.

It was a different story when we got to my place. Tasha and I grabbed Marla's hands and sprinted for my bedroom, dragging her with us. Tash and I worked together to get Marla naked. Then, I stripped as Tasha kissed and fondled her. We swapped so Tasha could undress, but when she had, Tasha pulled her strap-on out and buckled it on.

I released Marla, and she instinctively turned to Tasha, expecting to be kissed and stroked again. Marla gasped when she saw Tasha's 'cock', but then, a wicked look came over her face. Marla casually withdrew her strap-on from her handbag and put it on. She and Tasha exchanged knowing grins, and then they turned to me.

"Wait!" I protested, backing away. "No way!"

But they leapt on me and wrestled me onto the bed. Seconds later, I was riding my girlfriend with Marla's fingers probing my rear entrance. Satisfied that I was oiled, stretched and ready, Marla straddled Tasha's legs, squatted lower, and introduced her 'cock's head' to my anus. I grunted as she parted my knot with one soul-destroying plunge, and my two lower love holes were filled with 7+-inches of twin girl cocks.

My lovers held still, and I couldn't stand it! "Fuck me, you bitches!" I growled, making my lovers laugh.

"You said, 'Wait! No way!'", Tasha teased. "So, that's what we're doing."

Stuck between the two women meant I couldn't do much, but I managed to wriggle my hips, which rubbed the rubber stops against their clits, causing them both to gasp. Marla moved first, removing about half of her 'cock' from my ass before ramming it back in. Tasha waited until she learned Marla's rhythm, then, when Marla pulled back, she held still before thrusting up as Marla ploughed into me. I was the meat between two tenderising mallets, and I was soon screaming my head off as multiple orgasms blasted my mind to atoms.

The pleasure must have overwhelmed my poor mind because I woke up lying on my back. I turned my head and saw my lovers were in a classic sixty-nine with Marla on top. Even more so than Tasha, Marla seemed to prefer the dominant role. Slipping unnoticed off the bed, I removed my strap-on from my drawer and slid the double-end into my pussy before buckling it up. Mine was the only one with a 'cock' to slip into my pussy as well as the traditional one to use to fuck someone with. I don't know what the split is, but my meagre experience indicated that more girls than not found using a double-ended strap-on uncomfortable.

Marla looked over her shoulder when she felt me settling above her. But it was too late for her to complain or object, because I positioned my 'cock' at her entrance and then immediately rammed it into her.

"Oof!" Marla grunted as I peeled her pussy open and slammed home. My pelvis hit Marla's tight ass with a loud thwack, which was immediately repeated many times as I fucked her vigorously. I moved onto my knees and gripped Marla's shoulders so I could rip her back as I powered my hips forward.

Marla gave up any pretence of continuing to eat Tasha's pussy. Instead, her forehead rested on my girlfriend's clitoris as she rammed her ass back to meet my inward thrust. The loud thwacks against Marla's bottom turned into vicious slaps as I enthusiastically fucked her.

"Fuuuuuuuuuccccccccccccckkkkkkkkkk!!!!!!" Marla screamed when her climax hit. She jerked spasmodically on my 'cock' until with a comical giggle, she slid off it and onto Tasha.

"Me next," Tasha stated eagerly, pushing Marla aside and turning to offer me her sweet little pussy.

Look, I know that Tasha's and my relationship is ultimately doomed because of my desire for cock, but I love her so much. I'll cry an ocean of tears when we break up, but in the meantime, I could give my sweetheart what she needs. I pressed my lush body to hers firmly, our nipples and pussies melded together, and I kissed her with every ounce of love and passion I felt.

Tasha moaned and arched her back off the bed, forcing my 'cock' deeper into her greedy pussy. Copying what my father did to make up for his meagre cock, I spun my hips in tight circles, which spun my 'cock's head' over Tasha's G-spot.

"There's a woman watching from the doorway," Marla whispered.

"That's Mandy, my egg donor," I said. "She abandoned Dad and me three years ago, but her latest man beat and raped her before whoring her out. I'm allowing her to stay with me until she recovers and I figure out what to do with her. She's in chastity, but you can make her service you if you want."

I ignored Mum and continued fucking my girlfriend to the best of my abilities. Tasha had several minor cum events as she climbed towards her peak. I, in the right circumstances, can be a bit of a pain freak. Tasha is not. However, if I caused her a modicum of pain when she hit her climax, it exploded her mind and sent her hurtling into orgasmic heaven. Rotating my hips continuously, I waited and waited until I heard Tasha take a deep breath, ready to scream her climax to the skies. Then, I pinched her nipple between my thumb and forefinger and squeezed mercilessly.

"Ahhhhhh, ffffffuuuuuuuuuucccccccccckkkkkkkkk!" Tasha bellowed as her entire body locked momentarily before jerking and shuddering like cold water on a hot frying pan.

Marla took that moment to leap out of bed and grab the back of Mum's head. She dragged Mum onto the bed and after the lay on her back, she forced Mum's mouth onto her pussy and snarled, "Lick, bitch!"

Mum moaned as she obeyed. I could see her arousal leaking around her chastity belt, and I hoped she was as frustrated as she sounded. But despite her arousal and frustration levels, she lapped eagerly at Marla's pussy.

"She's good," Marla panted as her crest swiftly hove into view.

I eased my 'cock' out of my girlfriend's pussy and we rolled to spoon so we could watch Mum work Marla's pussy over. Mum had chosen to give up the pretence that she didn't know her way around a pussy, and she was servicing Marla's sweltering vagina skilfully. Marla crested twice quickly before asking if she could fuck my mother. It had barely been two days since the doctors at the PA had said it would be a week before the lesions in Mum's ass and pussy healed. But earlier, Mum had fucked herself roughly with her fingers without complaint. I inwardly shrugged and left the choice to her.

"Do you want Marla to fuck you with her strap-on, Mandy?" I asked.

Mum nodded enthusiastically, so I handed Marla the key to Mum's chastity belt and washed my hands of the situation before returning to making Tasha feel as good as possible. Tasha pushed back with her bottom to create some space and then got onto her hands and knees, facing Mum and Marla. She wanted to watch Marla fuck my mother, so I moved onto my knees behind Tasha's athletically muscular ass, grabbed her hips and slid my 'cock' into her grasping pussy.

Marla stepped off the bed temporarily to put on her strap-on, then she moved between Mum's eagerly parted legs and slid into her willing pussy. Mum's eyes closed, and she wrapped her thighs around Marla's slender, shapely hips and thrust her pussy up to meet Marla's downward thrust. The sounds of an athletically-toned abdomen crashing into a pussy filled my room.

Marla fucked Mum with long, fluid strokes, quickly driving the older woman towards her peak. I watched avidly, along with my girlfriend, but the saggy swaying of my mother's breasts bothered me. I decided to book her in for breast augmentation surgery immediately. Mum crested twice quickly and then asked if she could have a turn wearing the strap-on.

She had it strapped in place when my door opened, and Dad and Gordon came in. Dad looked as glamorous as he always does, and Gordon had remained in full drag. Mum froze, but Marla seemed unperturbed by the sudden invaders and pulled Mum between her legs. She reached for Mum's cock and guided it into her pussy.

Dad watched Mum and Marla with his mouth flapping, but Tasha slid off my 'cock' and grabbed him. She tore Dad's dress off, pushed him on his back and mounted him. Dad's cock was out of its cage and bare, so I was sure he and Gordon had started on their way home. What he'd done with his knickers, I didn't know.

Gordon lifted me bodily off the bed, undid my strap-on and pulled it out of my squelching pussy. Then, chuckling happily, he lowered me onto his ragingly erect cock. I could see it glistening in the light and guessed that Dad had blown him on their way home. Gordon would have slid inside me easily even without Dad's spit on his cock because I was soaking. I wouldn't have admitted it to her, but watching Mum strap-on a cock and fuck Marla was as hot as watching Gordon fuck my dad.

Gordon either had a rare misfire or Dad had gotten him to the edge on the ride home because he barely lasted three strokes begore cumming inside me. He was also feeling quite butch because he lowered me onto the bed, picked Mum off Marla, and forced her mouth onto his cock. Mum looked up submissively, and accepted his wilted cock down to its root in her mouth.

Marla giggled and quickly buckled her strap-on back in place. I was lying on my back, playing with myself, watching Mum suck Gordon. So, Marla rolled me onto my stomach and covered my lush body with her lean one. My pussy was slippery with my arousal and Gordon's seed, so I had to reach between my thighs and guide her in. Matching the tempo she'd fucked Mum with, Marla stroked in and out of sweet little pussy.

"Your Mum's a gifted cocksucker as well as an excellent pussy muncher, huh?" Marla giggled into my ear.

"Don't call her my mother," I protested. "She gave up that right when she abandoned Dad and me."

Marla slapped my ass and fucked me harder. "Being pissed at her doesn't stop her being your mother," Marla growled, slapping my ass again.

"Biologically? No," I panted as I rode Marla's deft strokes towards my climax. "Emotionally? Too fucking right it does!" My hips began moving of their own accord, and I was soon thrusting back to meet her every stroke. Her hand descended onto my shapely ass as she fucked me, which added piquancy to the act, and sent me catapulting into a stupendous orgasm.

My head collapsed onto the bed, and I felt Marla ease out of my pussy. "I'm going to try Jacqui out," she giggled. "Tasha seems to love using her."

"Ask her to fuck you," I panted. "You won't regret it."

Marla shuffled over to where Tasha was still riding Dad. She kissed my girlfriend passionately, and they shared a loving look after their blazing kiss. I saw the end of my relationship with Tasha in that moment. It would be months, maybe more than a year away, but they'd begin spending more and more time together, and I'd be eased to the side. Neither of them would knowingly hurt me, but sometime in the future, Tasha would say she wanted to be exclusive with Marla. We'd cry together, and she'd take all the blame, but it would be over.

I got off the bed, but no one noticed. I grabbed a loose dress and slid out to the lounge, where I phoned Tom. "Can I come over?" I asked, despite it being three in the morning.

"Sure," Tom replied.

Chapter 12: Tom's Place.

I looked down the hall to my bedroom. Dad was vigorously fucking Marla, doing his hip swirl thing. Tasha was kissing Marla and egging Dad on. And Mum was riding Gordon. They hadn't missed me yet.

I cried a little on my way to my boyfriend's place. I was sad because I would lose something special in Tasha, but I was also glad she'd found someone with whom she could be exclusive. But I was sad it wasn't me, but I was glad because I knew it couldn't be, but I was sad because it wasn't... You know how it is when your mind's spiralling out of control.

Tom opened his door when I pulled into his parents' driveway. Tom is at UQ studying to become an accountant, but I'd argue he is anything but conservative and boring. Of course I will. He is my boyfriend after all! I got out of my car and walked to him, where I burst into tears and fell into his arms.

"Did you and Tasha argue?" Tom asked. For most men, you'd probably assume that was a jealous question, but I knew Tom was genuinely concerned. I guess you could argue that he and Tash were competing for my affections, but luckily, neither saw it that way. They both realised they gave me things that I needed, and the other gave me things they couldn't. Of course, in Tom's case, he gave me a nice stiff flesh cock! (Titter).

"No," I sniffled. "But I introduced her to a new friend tonight, and they've hit it off like wildfire. It'll be a few months, but I already know they'll want to be an exclusive couple because that's what Tasha always wanted."

"Well, that sucks," Tom said sympathetically, picking me up and carrying me to his room.

"Sure does," I replied when he put me back on my feet. I tugged my dress and let it drop to the floor, revealing that it was all that I wore.

Tom's eyes roamed over my sublime body avariciously, with his sweatpants almost instantly tenting. I dropped to my knees and took his thick, almost 6-inch cock in my mouth. Grabbing Tom's hips, I free-handed my mouth down his throbbing shaft until my nose pressed against his hairy abdomen. It's probably because I have so many feminine and effeminate lovers that I prefer my men to real men. I love their body hair, fresh sweat smell, and muscular bodies. Tom's a bit of a gym rat who works construction for his father between semesters, so he fits all the requirements I have for a male lover.

Not wanting to cum too soon, Tom pushed me off his cock, picked me up, and threw me onto his bed before leaping after me. He kissed my lips and breasts before kissing lower. I stopped him because I hadn't washed after Gordon had cum in me. I'd been upfront with Tom about my relationships with Jacqui, Tasha, and Gordon, so he knew that I fucked them all, but that didn't mean I should rub his face in it, which he'd literally be doing if he ate me out.

Tom took the hint and moved between my thighs. His cock entered me at his first attempt, and I flung my arms and legs around me. "Fuck me, Tom!" I demanded. "Pound me into submission."

Tom did as I asked and fucked me hard. I knew he'd peak quickly the first time, so when he did, I rolled him onto his back and sucked him until he was hard again. Then, I moved higher and took him back into my sweet little pussy. I rode my boyfriend to a nice climax before allowing him to roll us over again. Tom slid back into me, but I decided to reward him for being such a great guy.

I wriggled until he backed out of me, and then I threw my legs over his shoulders and curled my back until my ass was presented to him. "Fuck me in the ass, lover," I cooed.

Tom gripped my calves and forced me higher until his throbbing dick was positioned at my ass. So much excitement had poured from my pussy that my sphincter was soaking with my fluids and very slippery. I had to hold my legs back so he could take hold of his cock and guide it into my ass. I twitched when his cock pared my knot open but then moaned as his thick cock slid into me. Tom wasn't as long as Gordon, but he was quite a bit thicker. Having him in my ass tested my pain tolerance, but I knew my sphincter would soon stretch to accommodate him.

Tom kissed me enthusiastically, prepared to give me all the time I needed. Banging my bottom was a rare treat for him, and he intended to savour every second. After a few seconds, my sphincter fluttered and released, allowing Tom to move. It took a few strokes before my ass totally relaxed and it began to feel good. From there, I rammed my hips up to meet his thrusts and pulled him into me with my legs.

"Pinch my nipples," I panted as my crest approached. Tom used his arms to push away from my body before moving his hands to my delicious C-cups. Then, he balanced on those as he gripped and twisted my thick nipples excruciatingly. That delicious pain combined with the delightful feeling in my ass and the sheer naughtiness of being fucked in the bottom exploded my mind. I bit Tom's arm to muffle my orgasm screams.

Tom hit his peak when I bit him, and he grunted vociferously as he filled my tight ass with his cum. Tom rolled off me after he'd finished filling my ass and wanted to go down on me again. I warned him off, but he said that he accepted that I had several lovers, and he wasn't bothered by licking another man's sperm as well as his own from me. I reluctantly released his head and allowed him to go down on me.

Tom was much firmer than my female lovers were, and when I was first with him, I had to re-educate him on how to correctly service a woman's pussy. But he learned quickly, and now he's almost as good as Dad or Gordon, though he's not a patch on Tasha. He gave me a satisfying orgasm with his tongue before covering my body again. His cock slid into me, and we vigorously fucked until we leapt from our peaks simultaneously.

I did the male thing on him when he got off me and rolled onto my side, facing away before dropping immediately into a deep sleep. I was vaguely aware that Tom chuckled before moving to spoon me and sleeping, too.

Tasha tried to call me at some stage, but anticipating that, I'd put my phone on silent. Having my phone on 'do not disturb' allowed me to sleep until midmorning. I woke up alone in the bed, but I could hear people talking and moving in the house. I texted Tash, "All good, lover. I'm safe. See you this afternoon, okay? I'll tell you what's going on then."

"Okay," Tash texted back, along with a whole heap of sad and crying faces. I felt a little guilty but knew I had to look after number one first, which meant temporarily getting away from her and Marla.

I put my phone back in my handbag as the door opened, and Tom brought in coffee and bacon and egg muffins.

"Mum and Dad are up and eating at the kitchen table if you want to get up?" Tom suggested.

I liked Tom's parents, Phil and Marie, and I know they like me... a lot! I'm sure they hope I'll become a permanent fixture in Tom's life, and they're fitting me out for daughter-in-law duties, which might be in the cards, but not for a long time yet. The path to becoming a doctor and then a psychiatrist is a long and difficult one to tread.

Divorce rates for interns and residents are amongst the highest in the world, and I wasn't sure yet that I wanted children. So, although I didn't date any other men or have sex with any male outside of Tom, Dad (does he count as male?), and Gordon, I wasn't ready to commit to an exclusive relationship with Tom any more than I was with Tasha.

"Yeah, it'll be good to chat with them again," I replied, looking around for my dress.

Tom took it off the hanger he'd put it on and handed it to me. I stepped into it and pulled it over my firm breasts. Fortunately, it wasn't one of my excessively short ones; it came down to my mid-thigh, so I didn't have to worry about being pantyless.

I followed Tom to the kitchen and sat opposite Phil and Marie. "Hello, Carina," they said warmly. "We haven't seen you for quite a while."

"It's good to see you two again," I grinned, not responding to their slight dig. "You never know because I might be around more often. It'll depend on Dad and uni and what days Tom's at classes compared to when I am. Plus, my egg donor has crawled out of the woodwork, and I'm dealing with that."

"Egg donor?" Marie exclaimed. "What a horrible way to refer to your mother!"

"Mrs Osbourne, she walked out on Dad and me three years ago. Her doing that so unexpectedly and suddenly drove my father into the bottle and almost cost him his life. So, you'll have to forgive me if I'm still angry about that. And, at least, I'm giving her a chance to redeem herself rather than toss her back out on her ass like she so richly deserves."

Marie and Phil looked at me, shocked. I guess those daughter-in-law robes weren't fitting so tightly now. "I understand," Marie muttered. "But still."

"Not our circus. Not our monkeys, honey," Phil said firmly. "I'm sure that Carina will work things out with her mother. And if she doesn't? It's still none of our business."

"You're right, of course," Marie said reluctantly.

Phil asked how things were going at uni, and we discussed trivialities until I'd eaten.

Tom walked me to the door, where I kissed him appreciatively. "Thanks for last night," I said. "And I'm sorry about how I spoke to your parents. I guess I'm off the prospective daughter-in-law list now?"

"Off Mum's for sure," Phil chuckled. "You're still at the top of Dad's, though."

"It's good that your mum doesn't get a say then, isn't it?" I said cheekily before kissing his cheek. "Take me to dinner Wednesday night? You can stay at my place afterward if you want?"

"Pick you up at seven?" Tom asked.

"Sounds like a date," I replied, kissing his lips before getting into my car and going home.

Chapter 13: Sunday.

Tash was at training when I got home. Dad, Mum, and Gordon were missing, so I assumed they were together. I was about to get the vacuum out and start cleaning when I decided it was a good task for my new pussy slave to do. She made me do chores when she ruled the roost, so I thought it was only fair I made her do them now that I do.

Tasha returned before anyone else, and she came inside and rushed into my arms. "Where did you go last night?" She asked tremulously. "I looked around, and you were gone."

"I saw the future in a moment," I replied tearily, hugging her fiercely.

"What on earth do you mean, Carina?" Tasha asked.

"You and Marla. You're perfect for each other, babe. You're both athletes. You're both gorgeous. You click emotionally and intellectually. She's your future, my love."

"You could be," Tasha protested tearfully.

"Really?" I asked gently. "You see a future where we're married and I'm still getting the cock I need on the side or behind your back?" Tasha shook her head, although I'm sure she wanted to say that would be okay. We both knew it wouldn't be. Tash was a one-woman woman even though she was having a ball fucking Gordon and Dad with me. But she'd eventually resent that I needed something outside her, which would doom our marriage.

"We're not breaking up immediately," I told her as we kissed lovingly. "But I won't be moved to the side gradually. When you're ready to be exclusive with Marla, you and Marla will tell me, and I'll bow out gracefully. I love you too much to do anything else."

"You sound so sure," Tasha said mournfully.

"I am," I said. "But you can't tell me you're not excited about what you and Marla can be and have."

"I am," Tasha admitted. "But I don't want to hurt you. I love you too much to do that."

"Then you, me, and Marla will fuck like rabbits until then. Sound like a plan?" I giggled.

"I will cry when I tell you," Tasha said, already crying.

"As will I when you do," I replied, tearing up, too.

We went to bed and made love. Tasha tasted me and then pulled faces as she stuck out her tongue. "Oh, shit!" I embarrassedly exclaimed. "I haven't showered today."

I tried to push Tasha away, but she attacked my messy pussy anyway. I had Tom's and Gordon's cum in me, and I couldn't see how she could eat me without throwing up. I stopped protesting when her lips surrounded my nubbin, and her index finger swirled over my G-spot. I screamed my appreciation and held her head to me tightly instead.

After several mutual orgasms, we showered together and dressed. We ate a light late lunch and sat together on the sofa until Dad, Mandy, and Gordon came home. I was pleased and surprised to see that Mum and Dad were holding hands. It was a bit weird because Dad was prettier than Mum. Which I'm sure we can all agree is not normal!

"Get a better offer last night?" Gordon teased.

I almost blurted, "Yes. A real man with body hair and a nice thick cock." But that would have been unnecessarily hurtful to Tasha, so I grinned and said that things just got a bit too much, so I had to flee and clear my head.

I sent Mum to do the dusting and vacuuming and took the others outside. We sat around the patio table, drinking mineral water and chatting until Mum completed her tasks and returned. Then, we went inside and chatted again until it was time for dinner. No one had gotten anything out, so we drove down to May's Thai on Tingal Road. Gordon left for his place from there, and the rest of us returned home.

Mum and Dad sat together on the couch. The ice between them had thawed some, but they were still quite stiff and awkward with each other. Mum had a long way to go before things between us were repaired, but making up with Dad would go a long way towards fixing it. I knew that my father was still hurt and resentful that she'd left, but I also knew he still loved her intensely because he occasionally cried out her name when he came in me. I doubt he was aware of it, and I wasn't concerned, so I didn't mention it.

Tasha and I went to bed early. I needed to be back at uni, and she had to be up early to train and then go to work. There was an unavoidable sadness between us now because we both knew our relationship would end within a year. But I also believed we'd recover when Tasha realised I wanted her and Marla to be happy, and I was happy to share Marla with her until it was time for Tasha and Marla to be permanently exclusive. I hated admitting it, but I knew I'd have to be careful of the big, green-eyed jealousy monster. I love Tasha, and giving her up will be difficult. But it's the right thing to do unless I give up men and become solely hers.

Chapter 14: Monday--Mum cracks.

Dad phoned his firm on Monday morning and told them he'd be off for the week. It meant Mum wouldn't be alone in the house, which I knew was good. I didn't fully trust her yet. Despite her behaviour being exemplary, she still made comments that revealed her avarice. Those comments made me worry that she was trying to manipulate herself into a position where she could get Dad's money. I knew from The Trust's lawyer that Granddad Morshuis had never trusted any of his son's wives, but he was especially suspicious of my mother. He called her a 'money grubbing, social climber'.

Tasha called me at uni to say she'd begun training with Marla. She knew I wasn't bothered that she had, but she worried that someone we both knew would see them together and tell me. I felt that same sad/glad feeling, but I knew I was merely jealous that they'd found each other when I was still essentially alone. I could easily slip into a full-time relationship with Tom, but I didn't think he was ready to commit, and I definitely wasn't. I thought that waiting until I was a resident, which was over ten years away, before becoming permanently involved with someone was the wise move.

I returned to an empty house. Dad's car was gone, so I surmised he was out with Mum. I hoped that was a good thing, but I feared because I knew how emotionally fragile Dad still was.

I was getting myself a cold drink when I heard the garage door go up and Dad's car enter the garage. He and Mum came through the door, giggling like two school girls. They saw me, immediately crossed the lounge, and knelt with their heads on my feet.

"Afternoon, Mistress," they intoned in unison. "How may we serve you?"

Okay, that was good and weird. I assumed that Dad had been instructing Mum on how to serve me correctly. Still, having them speak the same words simultaneously was more than a little strange.

"Look at me," I ordered. When they did, I asked, "Have you two had sex together yet?" Their embarrassed giggles told me they had before they answered. However, I suspected they may not have had penetrative intercourse yet. "Clarify what sex you had."

Mum spoke for them, which warned me that what I suspected was true. She'd used Dad to get off, putting him in a subservient position again. Something I would not accept. For Dad's continued mental health, it was imperative that Mum was the low bitch on the totem pole. Dad answered to everyone currently. Myself, Gordon, or Tasha could order him to do something, and he had to obey. That's where he wanted to be, and it's where I kept him. However, I did not trust Mum not to abuse him emotionally and psychologically. She had for their entire marriage, and it would be all too easy for them to fall back into the same pattern.

"Show me your cunt," I growled at Mum. She reluctantly shifted onto her bottom, lifted her dress, and showed her panties. "Take them off," I snarled. Mum slowly removed her knickers before leaning back so I could see her pussy. "Where is your chastity belt?' I growled as my anger threatened to explode.

"No one put it back on after we all made love last night," Mum protestingly defended. "I thought I was allowed to play again."

My mind was close to imploding. I mean, seriously? I was losing my girlfriend, struggling to keep my father's mental health strong, dealing with a manipulative mother who had devastatingly reappeared in my life, juggling a boyfriend and a high-stress uni degree, and I had to be the one to remember to put chastity devices on everyone? Fuck me!

The Trust's lawyers said I could spend up to 3.5 million dollars a year before any questions would be asked. It was so tempting to take a couple of million dollars and fuck off. Buy myself a nice home somewhere far away from everyone else, invite Tasha, Marla, and Tom, and spend the rest of my life fucking myself to death.

"Dad, show me your pussy," I sighed. Sure enough, he had replaced his cock cage himself. "Dad, wait for me in your room." He scurried out. I got the rolling pin from the drawer. Mum was still a mass of bruises, but pain seemed to be the only thing she understood. Pain wasn't reward in itself for her, so I could use it to punish and break her. I had avoided using pain because she'd been beaten so severely for so long, but I could not let her inveigle her way into Dad's affections as his top.

"Carina? What are you doing?" Mum fearfully asked.

"What I need to do, Mandy. What you've forced me to do." I shook my head regretfully. "You seem to think you can waltz back in after abandoning us and after three years of fucking anyone you wanted to and retake your place as head of this house and your marriage. This is my home, Mandy. You abrogated any claim to it when you left."

I glared at her as my anger roiled through me. "And Dad is my bitch, not yours. I saved him, Mandy. You almost killed him with your betrayal, and I had to commit the sin of incest to bring him back. You used him today because you knew he'd slip back into wanting to please you. Did you even cum, Mandy? Or did you fake it like you did for all those years before you left?"

Her lack of response confirmed my assumption. I slapped my palm with the rolling pin several times before roaring, "I should throw you into my car and drop your saggy arse in The Valley, and hang a sign around your neck saying 'Free use whore'. How does that sound, Mandy? I am so fucking sick of you that I could scream!" I sat on a chair. "Take off your dress and lie over my thighs."

"Carina, please," Mum begged.

"Mistress, you dumb cunt," I screamed. "How fucking stupid and/or stubborn are you? Get the fuck over my knees before I beat you to death! I'm done fucking around with you!"

I must have scared her because she almost leapt over my thighs. I pushed her off me, disgustedly saying, "I have no fucking idea why Dad put up with you for all those years. Remove you fucking dress, Mandy, you stupid cunt."

Mandy obeyed, but I pushed the rolling pin away. I was too angry, and I was liable to hurt her severely if I used it on her. The fact that I wanted to hurt was reason enough to put the rolling pin away before I did. My anger boiled in my veins, and I was almost totally out of control. I had to step back before I lost my mind and beat her half to death. Hissing angrily, I pushed Mum off my lap and snarled, "Run and get your chastity belt, Mandy. And I do mean run!"

I'd never seen my mother move so fast. She was terrified and ran so quickly I was sure even Tasha couldn't have caught her. I made her stand before me and put it on before demanding that she kneel and kiss my feet. "Repeat these words, Mandy," I growled menacingly. "Repeat them, implant them in your mind, and every time you think you're anything but what these words say, repeat them to yourself until you remember what you are.

"These words, Mandy: 'I am Mistress Carina's worthless pussy slave. I am a useless piece of cunt meat whose only purpose is to serve my Mistress.' Repeat those words, Mandy. Repeat them now. Believe them now. Be them now, or, so help me God, I will beat you until no one can see your previous bruises and then throw you naked on the street."

Mum falteringly said, "I am Mistress Carina's worthless pussy slave. I am a useless piece of cunt meat whose only purpose is to serve my Mistress."

"Repeat them and believe them!" I demanded.

"I am Mistress Carina's worthless pussy slave. I am a useless piece of cunt meat whose only purpose is to serve my Mistress," Mandy said more strongly.

"I said, 'Repeat them and believe them,'" I snarled.

"I am Mistress Carina's worthless pussy slave. I am a useless piece of cunt meat whose only purpose is to serve my Mistress," Mandy said firmly.

"Do I have to beat those words into you for you to believe them?" I menacingly asked, picking up the rolling pin.

"No, Mistress," Mum quickly stated.

"What are you?"

"I am Mistress Carina's worthless pussy slave. I am a useless piece of cunt meat whose only purpose is to serve my Mistress," Mandy said firmly.

"Crawl after me," I ordered as I stood and shifted to one of the sofa chairs in the lounge. I sat before lifting my legs onto the armrests, exposing my panties. I pulled them aside and growled, "Show your Mistress what a good little pussy slave you are!"

Mum's lips descended onto my pussy and she licked from perineum to my clit and then back. I held her head and squeezed her so tightly against me that she could barely move. My anger slowly turned to arousal, and I could feel my liquids starting to flow. I moved further down the chair so my butthole was accessible. "Take my panties off with your teeth and rim my asshole," I ordered.

Mum complied, although I had to pull my panties partly down before she could. Mum knelt, gulping as my little chocolate star twitched under her gaze. I was about to demand that she followed her orders when her tongue snaked between her teeth, and she touched it to my ring. I grabbed the back of her head and mashed her against my ass. "Lick, my cunt slave. Get your tongue deep in there."

Surprisingly, Mum moaned deep in her chest and stabbed her tongue into my sphincter as deeply as she could. I'd just had my boyfriend's dick in there, so my ass opened before her assault and about an inch of Mum's tongue slid in. Mandy seemed almost lost in her submission to me because, without instruction, her middle finger entered me and searched for my G-spot. She found it, and my thighs locked around her head, holding her in place as I writhed and groaned, an orgasm almost upon me.

My mouth opened, and I screamed my pleasure to the world when Mum's tongue withdrew, and she stabbed it back into me. I bucked against her mouth as her tongue thrummed inside my sphincter, and I experienced several subsequent orgasms. Feeling good but greedy, I grabbed Mum's ears and lifted her mouth onto my entrance. She slid her tongue in, then licked along my slit as I dragged her higher. Her lips encircled my fuck switch, and she sucked hard as she battered it with her tongue, causing me to scream my satisfaction again.

I shoved her away, and Mum fell onto her back. Her hands snatched to her leather-covered cunt, and she desperately tried to masturbate, but was prevented by the chastity belt. Please, Ca... Mistress. Please, I'm so horny! I need to cum, Mistress, please," Mum pleaded.

My anger, which had been partially quelled by my orgasms, roared back to full flame. "You have to be fucking kidding me!" I bellowed. "I don't give a fuck if your cunt's on fire, Mandy! You're here to serve me! Any relief you get is purely at my discretion and coincidental!" I grabbed her by her hair and dragged her after me to Dad's room. Tossing her towards the bed, I growled, "Kneel there with your hands behind your head, elbows back, and your tits pushed as far out as possible. Watch what's happening and do not move."

Dad, who sat on the edge of his bed, watched, agog. "Strip," I told him, taking out his cage key.

Dad quickly undressed and knelt before me. I told him to lift up so I could undo his cock cage and take it off. When I had, I straddled his shoulders and mashed his head against my pussy. "Lick," I snarled. I was being unfair to Dad. I wasn't at all angry at him, but Mandy had me in a rage, and that leaked over to him.

Dad's gifted tongue fluttered over my clitoris, quickly driving me towards my peak. I looked at my mother, who was disobeying me by looking away. My mind turned to white-hot fire again. "Mandy, you dumb, cock-sucking whore, I told you to watch! What was so difficult to understand about that?"

Tears flowed from her eyes as she reluctantly turned her head and saw her husband eating her daughter's cunt. The problem is that Mum turned the waterworks on to get what she wanted from Dad so often that I had no idea if her tears were genuine or were all another act. I decided that I didn't care, hardened my heart and encouraged Dad to go to town on my pussy.

Dad started bobbing his head, alternating between licking my entrance and slit and battering my clit with his tongue. My hands went to his head, and I held against my pussy tightly as I ground on his face. "Are you watching, Mandy, you useless slut?" I panted. "Watch how your husband expertly eats your daughter's cunt. Look how good he is and how much your daughter's enjoying having her father licking her pussy. You gave that up, Mandy. Threw his expert oral skills away because you thought you could do better than him.

"And now look at you. A used up, saggy-skinned whore who no man will ever want to fuck, let alone support. What use are you, Mandy?" I cruelly continued. "You've never worked a day in your life other than the work you do on your back taking cocks up your sloppy cunt. So, what use are you to us, Mandy? Dad has three lovers who adore what he offers. Tasha would never touch you. If I tried to make Gordon touch you, he'd probably throw up, and Dad has a cock and can fuck me and is way, way better at giving oral than you. So, why should I even keep you around? What do you offer besides a bad attitude, a destroyed body, and a saggy cunt?"

Mum wept in huge gulping sobs. It was apparent that my words had finally done to her what needed to happen--they'd broken her. They'd made her realise that she had and was nothing that any of us needed. She knew I wouldn't put up with her nonsense and that as long as I ruled this home, none of the other members would intervene on her behalf. If she didn't want to be on the streets, she needed to make peace with me, become someone we could like and maybe come to love.

I ignored her tears and wails because I wanted to grind her nose in her subjugation. Besides, Dad was excelling himself. My derogatory words to and control over his wife seemed to excite him, and he was enthusiastically servicing me like never before. "Gawd, he's so good at oral, Mandy," I groaned. "Watch and listen as I explode on his tongue.

I grabbed Dad's ears and tribbed my pussy against his face as hard as I could. My climax hit, blasting over me and shattering my mind into atoms. But I wasn't done there. Falling onto his bed, I dragged Dad after me, and welcomed his petite cock into my pussy. Dad immediately rammed his pubic bone against my clitoris and spun his hips in fast, tight circles. Doing that massaged my cum switch and twirled his cock's head over my G-spot simultaneously. It took less than a minute before I orgasmed again.

Dad's control was supreme, and he held still, waiting for me to writhe, indicating I was ready to go again. I did a few minutes later, and he returned to spinning his hips. The delightful twin sensations exploded my orgasm again, and I thrashed on the bed in uncontrolled spasms as a tremendous climax ratcheted through my body.

Dad, who was panting, but hadn't cum yet, eased out of my pussy, and stood, awaiting further instruction. It was time to put Mandy in the place she needed to be if I was to allow her to remain. I staggered off the bed and undid her chastity belt. "Lie on the bed and spread your legs," I told her. When she did, I said, "Dad, fuck your slut just like you did me. Give her the very same treatment."

Because Mum was just a bitch, and dad was so submissive, Dad was tentative and diffident with her. Plus, Mandy, no matter how much she enjoyed it, pretended Dad's lovemaking and diminutive cock did nothing for her, which made Dad even more nervous and diffident. She'd emasculated him, which, when combined with his dysphoria, rendered him impotent, something Mandy used to punish him and make him feel worthless, and so the cycle went around.

I could smell that Dad's and my show had exacerbated Mum's arousal despite her pretended disapproval, and she'd go off like fire cracker on Guy Fawkes night if Dad fucked her as he had me.

With my encouragement and constant whispers in his ear, Dad put on a sublimely dominant performance. Mum tried to hold back, but Dad was too good, and her arousal too advanced. Her resistance cracked like a dropped egg, and she screamed as the first of many orgasms crashed through her. With Dad in control of himself and her, I moved and aided Dad's conquest of my mother. I played with Mum's ears as I kissed her passionately. I played with her breasts and tweaked her nipples. I moved so I could suck and lick her nipples, and I asked questions about and pointed out how good what Dad did felt.

Dad turned Mum into a puddle of arousal. She'd orgasmed so many times that she was whimpering and pleading she couldn't go again. However, she'd had two more since she first begged Dad to stop.

"Giver her one more, and then pull out and cum on her face," I whispered to Dad.

Dad worked Mum up to one more protesting, whining climax before roaring as he pulled out, he moved to sit on her saggy tits, and held his cock as it spat huge globules of semen all over his wife's face, throat, and chest. Mum accepted him doing that before opening her eyes and looking at him wonderingly.

"I'm so sorry for how I treated you, Jacqui," she said as tears fell from her eyes. "I should have allowed you to do this to me years ago. If I had, I would never have fucked things up so badly."

"I was weak and let you control me," Dad admitted, using his cock to smear his cum over Mum's face. "With Carina to help keep us on the right path, I think we can have a future together. Would you like to try?"

"Yes," Mum cried.

"I'm going to fuck others," Dad said firmly. "Carina, Gordon, and Tasha, to name just three. But I want someone who will effectively be a husband to us both. We will be two sluts for our man." Dad grinned wickedly. "Someone who has a nice big, juicy cock so you don't feel like you're missing out and nor do I."

Mum laughed as she bent her head to kiss Dad's cock. "If you continue to fuck me like you just did, I doubt I'll ever think I'm missing out!"

That can be arranged," Dad said firmly. His cock had reinflated (the joys of Viagra), so he slid down and slid back into his wife. A few minutes later, Mum was screaming again.

I left them to it.

Chapter 15: Tidying Up.

Of course, we'd forgotten something hugely important. My mother had a venereal disease. We all needed testing, and Gordon and Dad needed treating for VD. We only had ourselves to blame and were lucky nothing worse happened.

There were quite a few missteps as Dad and Mum learned their new roles, and I had to step on Mum quite firmly to remind Mum what her new role was. Gordon still stays with us after his Friday and Saturday shows most weeks. Mum and Dad have become one of the drag show crowd's favourites, with many men asking Mum if she can convince their wives to let them transition as Dad has.

Tasha and I are still together, but she splits her time with Marla and me equally. Marla and I remain friends and lovers. Every time the green-eyed jealousy monster bites me, I grab it by the neck and strangle it to death.

I have regular sex with my parents. Sometimes Dad and I fuck Mum. Other times, Mum and I... well, you get the picture.

Tom and I broke up because he wanted to see me more than I had time for. The demands of my degree and all the practical stuff that goes with it mean I have very little free time. My parents, Tasha, Gordon, and Marla understand that and accept what I can give. Tom couldn't. I'm searching for a boyfriend, and applications are being accepted. Please apply via email to the profile above. You must accept that I have several female and effeminate lovers, I'm incestuous with my parents, and I prefer to top. If that's you... titter... just jokes... but if you want to...

The End.