All this glamor really did suit her, thought Ann Takamaki proudly, admiring the sleek, leather interior of the stretch limousine contrasting against the brilliant, decadent red of her evening gown. Ann sighed in contentment as she threw her head back; she took pride in looking good, true, but it took a little bit of getting away from those (for everyone in some way or another) awkward high school years for her to really appreciate true beauty, in herself or her husband- the love of her life that had been there for her from the very first second they’d gazed upon each other in that drizzle his first day at Shujin.
Speaking of Ann and her husband, ever since, they had a tradition of alternating giving the other little gifts come Christmastime. Originally, it would be the small sort of tokens befitting of teenagers; boxes of chocolate, inexpensive jewelry, and so on. But as they reached adulthood, the couple, with their increasing means available as far as disposable income was concerned, saw little harm in splurging on (within reason, of course) material expressions of their love for each other. While rather adventurous on occasion with certain “toys,” they were generally not considered, either by Ann or Akira, as appropriate presents for such occasions. But this year? Well, this was a very special occasion, the model beauty thought nastily as she shifted her splayed legs slightly and hiked up her dress a bit farther, giving the leash she held in her hand a cruel tug.
This particular “toy” was one Ann had gone well out of her way to acquire; one she knew for a fact that both she and her husband would get a lot of enjoyment out of for a very, very long time. And while their plaything was intended for the pair of them to enjoy together, there was nothing stopping her from testing out the toy; after all, for Ann Takamaki, she was loathe to let her beloved go with anything subpar. And judging by how the depraved slut used her tongue and mouth in general, it was a good purchase. “You’re really good at eating pussy, huh whore?” inquired the blonde breathily. “So that mouth of yours is good for something, after all!”
The woman, caramel-skinned and in her late twenties-to-early thirties, was not so remarkable due to any of these traits, or her rather large frame, frizzy black hair, so much as her meek demeanor before Ann’s normally kind-visage sneering cruelly down at her. “Th-thank you, M-misstress.” she thanked gingerly, having briefly pulled away from the other woman’s sex. “I-if I may be so bold, Mistress- y-your pussy is divine-”
Returning to her position in between those just-as-gorgeous legs, the woman continuing her worship with her lips and tongue bought Ann to bring a sharp slap across her cheek; something that would have shown more had her skin been even slightly lighter. “Did I give you permission to put your filthy fingers in or near my pussy?!” scolded Ann, the expression of utter hatred and fury in her expression only shown in her lifetime to a certain degenerate volleyball coach.
“N-no, Mistress.” she replied meekly. “You didn’t.”
“Good. That’s a good little slave slut.”
Thank fuck these manufacturers had the foresight to put these partitions in limousines, thought Ann. Their driver, a kindly older, middle-aged woman named Reina, was an absolute treasure. But she was very likely to get the wrong(or the right?) idea from collared American woman orally servicing her as though her life depended upon it, sprinkled with harsh verbal abuse from a voice whose owner usually disliked even swearing at people- even if they deserved it!
That said, as the vehicle halted in front of their residence, Ann’s heart leapt slightly at the prospect of walking their new toy to the front door, for many of the same reasons. Hissing at the woman to lie down and shut up, Ann’s expression abruptly changed at the partition’s window rolling down.
“Everything alright, Miss Ann?” inquired the driver.
“Oh, everything’s fine, Reina! Go on! Take the night off! Akira and I are in for the night anyway!”
“Well, if you’re sure, ma’am.”
Ann gave a very predatory, evil smirk to the collared woman sitting at her feet.
Reina retiring for a cigarette break before she went home, Ann took this opportunity to take her new “pet” for a little walk across the freshly-manicured grass. Naturally, being the time of year it was, it was rather chilly, the woman’s dark nipples already rather hard. Ann, slapping her right breast to an undisguised moan of pleasure. “Wow, you’re an even bigger slut than I thought.” the blonde sneered. “I’ve got half a mind just to fuck you on the grass out here. Sluts like you just LOVE the idea of possibly getting caught, don’t you?”
“W-whatever you wish, Mistress.” squeaked the woman. “My wishes are of no concern.”
Ann beamed slightly. “Good! You’re starting to understand how your life is going to work from now on.”
Those grand doors parting themselves thanks to even a few of the many electronic conveniences of their residence, Ann resembled a sort of flamboyant, sadistic debutante dragging around a frightened toy dog by its leash- only the creature was literally another human being her same (vertical) size.
At the sight of the man proceeding down the grand stairwell to greet her, Ann’s expression lit up. “Hellooooo, my love!” she greeted dramatically, dragging the collared woman behind her. “I do believe you’ll just LOVE the present I bought you at the auction! Oh, that I bought US at the auction!”
Clad in a men’s evening jacket-and-slacks combination, given his natural features, Akira somehow resembled both Dracula and a somewhat-less-iconic, affectionate-but-non-vampiric homage to the count given his affection for the blonde woman. “Ah, Ann, rakkaani! You really do have amazing taste, my queen.” he remarked before pecking her on the lips. “And who do we have here, hm?”
“Oh, she’s just some whore.” Ann insisted as innocently as possible given the situation. “Her name’s not important!”
The woman whom the lady of the house seemed so dismissive of trembled slightly, as though in awe of both halves of the handsome couple that had taken her.
Looking the woman up and down, Akira seemed quite pleased indeed with the toy that his dear wife had purchased for them. “Big, fat tits.” began Akira, his tone vaguely predatory. “Thick thighs and a fat ass that jiggles when it walks? Those thick, full lips?”
Clutching the woman by the chin, Akira forced her to look him dead in the eyes, his visage unusually serious. “You.” he said abruptly. “What’s your name?”
“J-Jasmine, sir.” the woman responded meekly. “I was-”
With no warning whatsoever, Akira pulled the woman into a deep, passionate kiss, taking his time to savor and explore the fleshy taste of her lips as his free hand groped and kneaded the thick flesh on her backside. “Good.” he remarked brusquely, turning to the blonde with a warm smile. “I can still taste you on the slut.”
Ann gave an uncharacteristically-evil smile. “Well, the cunt’s really good at running her mouth off.”
Akira smirked mischievously. “Good. Very good.”
Turning to the woman, Akira’s expression abruptly drained itself of the warmth he’d shown the blonde. “Well?” he inquired nastily. “What are you doing standing?”
“Um, what do you mean, sir?”
Not unlike his wife earlier, Akira delivered a sharp, open-handed slap to Jasmine’s cheek. “Don’t play dumb, you fat whore!” he scolded. “Ann made it very clear to you- Bitches. Do. Not. Wear. People. Clothes. Why the fuck would they walk on two legs?”
The woman turned her gaze away from her master, apologetically falling to her hands and knees. “I-I’m sorry, Master.”
Akira gave a cruel smirk of satisfaction. “THAT’S better.” he remarked. “That’s a good slave.”
In general, Ann Takamaki was considerably more perceptive than most people gave her credit for- she’d been well aware of her husband’s fascination with Jasmine’s considerable backside, taking particular notice of it herself as the woman prostrated herself before Akira.
With all of her considerable might, Ann reared back, smacking the woman’s ass, eliciting a yelp of surprise, pain, and possibly arousal. “Oh, wow baby!” she remarked with a smile. “The slut’s ass really does jiggle!”
While rather dark-skinned herself, Jasmine was visibly red at her reaction. “Well, bitch.” remarked Ann, grasping a fistful of her hair. “I think you owe Akira for how insolent you were being, don’t you?”
“Argh- Yes, Mistress Ann!”
Damn, this was fucking hot, Akira thought to himself. Despite the costumes they’d had supposedly representing their inner selves, Ann, while by no means a shirking violet, was still a complete sweetheart, as he knew well. But scolding this thick, brown American slut for failing to show him his due deference? Akira was very intrigued by this indeed, proof of this straining against the crotch of his slacks.
“So you say her mouth’s good for something, eh?” inquired Akira lazily, shifting in the armchair.
Ann’s face lit up, half with genuine joy and cruelty. “Oh, of course! Tell your new master how much you love Japanese guys, whore!”
Jasmine, while dutifully looking in his direction, very consciously avoided Akira’s gaze. “W-well, you are a v-very attractive people- on average, I mean.”
Akira raised a curious eyebrow, one hand loosening his slacks. “Oh, really? Even with all those obnoxious, pink shaved apes in your country who think they’re God’s gift to women?”
The unintentional slight (who contrary to the popular stereotype, actually adored him) to his father-in-law and grandfather-in-law both was of little concern to Akira as an already-worked-up Ann dragged the woman before him, removing his almost-aching shaft from his boxers.
“Master-” remarked Jasmine, visibly embarrassed. “Your cock- it’s so gorgeous!”
Akira chuckled smugly. “Tell me something I don’t know. Now do something useful with those thick lips of yours before I get sick of you.”
Dutifully, Jasmine gingerly, almost lovingly, planted a light kiss on the head, teasing it a bit with her tongue before finally- mercifully taking a bit of it into her mouth.
Akira gave a satisfied sigh of pleasure as the American woman complied with his demands, taking care to make as much use of her lips around his shaft as possible. “Yeah, bitch!” he remarked. “Be like the rest of your sisters- don’t even act like you have a gag reflex!”
Parents have a strong influence on their children by nature, often in ways neither expect. Much like the blonde Russian nanny, Ekaterina, his mother had hired when she fell seriously ill during his early childhood, his father also unwittingly played a role for Akira taking a particular interest in the night’s festivities and the two ladies involved; namely, his taste for American music, and very particular kinds of it.
Due in no small part to common lyrical content, Akira remembered his mother objecting rather strongly to his father listening to it while he was in the house. But it was not so much the lyrics that held a particular fascination for young Akira, it was rather the music videos- more specifically, the backup dancers, sensual, dark-skinned, and generally well-endowed- that lit a fire inside him that he’d had little way of articulating, even were it not rather awkward to admit to himself, let alone his his wife- not exactly a woman who lacked an appreciation for the female form herself, to say the least.
And speaking of his beloved blonde bride, apparently for Ann, Jasmine’s slow, methodical bobbing of her head was not exactly to her liking. “Stop being so coy, slut.” snarled Ann, grabbing the back of her head and forcing her husband’s shaft down the woman’s throat. “Go on, suck that cock. Suck that cock like you can’t live without it!” The American woman squealing in shock and discomfort, Akira gave a pleasurable groan, finding their pet’s throat a more-than-sufficient sleeve for his cock.
Damn, this bitch must really love being fucked rough, thought Ann. She’s dripping like a fucking faucet! In hindsight, it was actually kind of hilarious, Makoto having mentioned to her in confidence that if she had a husband and caught him in such a position, that she would probably kill him. She actually supposed most women she knew would react poorly as well to walking in on their husband with some slut’s lips around his cock.
Ann Takamaki, in a situation like this? The eroticized cruelty she and Akira both were showing the woman turned out to be such a fucking hot bonding method, she had to stop herself more than once from letting her fingers slide into her dress and start fucking herself! “Babe, come on.” she remarked impatiently. “Lift it up a bit.”
Temporarily removing his throbbing cock from the American’s mouth, Akira complied, Jasmine, now even more red in the face, took the much-needed opportunity to catch her breath momentarily before her master gripped her harshly by the roots of her kinky hair, jerking her abruptly upwards with a yelp.
“There, that’s more like it.” he growled, pushing Jasmine back down as to straighten her back somewhat. “Better than you deserve, cunt.”
“Y-yes, Master.” she replied dutifully. “I deserve-”
Among other things, Jasmine yelped at Akira forcing his cock down her throat once again, doing away with any semblance of gentleness. Meanwhile, Ann would not have been surprised if she’d reflexively licked her lips, she thought as she forced her index and middle fingers inside Jasmine’s dripping cunt. Apparently, this bitch is getting turned on a lot by being handled like this!
And those moans and whimpers were music to Ann’s ears, alternating between fingering Jasmine and tonguing her cunt. The smell was kind of strong, but she didn’t actually taste bad in the slightest. Obviously, she could not vocalize said said thoughts at the moment, but her husband’s grunts and narration spoke for both of them. “Oh, fuck!” groaned Akira. “You black bitches love getting facefucked SO much, huh?”
Eyes watering and whining orgasmically from both halves of the couple’s treatment of her, Akira gasped pleasurably. “Fuck! Yeah, take that in your fucking throat, you slut!”
Akira shuddering in pleasure, Jasmine abruptly felt the hot ropes of her master’s cum splattering against her throat, his own orgasm giving her little rest from her mistress’ digital trickery, the woman, after catching her breath slightly, was a moaning mess, almost buckling over into her master’s toned abdomen as she climaxed herself.
Having somehow removed herself from the very-awkward position between Jasmine’s thighs, Ann smirked lewdly at both her husband and their toy, the latter more than the former. “Wow, you REALLY love being handled like the dirty gutter slut you are, huh?” she remarked, licking some of the woman’s slick from her digits.
“Yes, y-yes I do love being treated like the worthless slut I am, M-mistress.” confirmed Jasmine, somehow less meekly than previously.
“And since you’ve been such a good, obedient slave,” continued Akira cruelly. “I think a little reward for you is in order, bitch.”
“Being invited to our bedroom is WAY better than a dirty servant whore like you deserves.” punctuated Ann.
Led up the stairwell by her mistress and her mate, the American woman was subject to a haze of groping, prodding, and lewd, vaguely-threatening promises of what was awaiting her.
“Only reason I didn’t start fucking you on the lawn outside is that my really good toys are all in our bedroom, bitch. We BOTH know you get so fucking wet at the thought of possibly being caught.”
“I should bend you over this railing and make you take my cock, whore. At one of Ann’s classy, high-society events, too. You can whine, moan, and gush all you want about what a fucking cheap slut you are.”
“What, never tasted the juices from your own pussy before? Go on, lick them off your mistress’ lovely fingers.”
Jasmine received little respite from this treatment as she was ushered into their bedroom either. Apparently spurred on by his mate’s suggestions, Akira decided to try his own hand at pleasing their toy with his lips and tongue, his firm grip forcing her up against the wall as she whined in pleasure.
“I’ll just be a second.” remarked Ann with a smile, disappearing into their closet.
“Take your time, baby.”
With Akira pulling away from her, the other woman crocked her head sideways, her expression a mixture of confusion and disappointment. “Er, master-”
As befitting the previous pattern, Akira smacked her across the cheek, this time with a bit more force. “What did we say about speaking when not spoken to?” he inquired dangerously.”
“Oh, y-yes! Of course! I apologize, master-”
“Words are cheap; get your ass over here.”
In the center of the bedroom rested a loveseat, rising to about Jasmine’s navel. Akira, very deliberately crowding her personal space, felt himself grow harder with each passing moment as the woman’s backside crowded his crotch. “Good slut.” he growled. “Now bend over.”
Breaking away from her master somewhat, Jasmine dutifully complied, bending herself over the piece of furniture as Akira ran an appreciative hand over her ass, giving it another sharp smack for good measure. Damn, Ann was completely right, he thought. She does get really fucking wet off being handled like this.
“You’re gonna love this part, you dirty bitch.” Akira growled into Jasmine’s ear, giving her hair a little tug.
“Th-thank you, Master.” she squeaked in return.
And as to the other half of the reason their “toy” was soon to be in utter ecstasy? “Oh, sluuuuuuuuut!” sing-songed Ann, emerging from their (considerable) closet. Strapped to the woman’s waist was an implement holding a rather large, girthy silicone phallus. “And the ones I’ve used on him are nothing compared to this.”
Instinctively recoiling at the apparatus that was bound for her throat, Jasmine could nonetheless not help being intrigued somewhat. Of course, this had quite a bit to do with Akira teasing her sopping pussy with the tip of his once-again-very-hard cock, leading her to give a pleasured whine of anticipation. Once her master had finally relented and entered her, said whine became an almost-operatic moan before Ann briefly grasped her nose, forcing the shaft of the strap-on down her throat before releasing it.
The gift his wife had bought the two of them squealing in ecstasy into the synthetic phallus assaulting her throat, Akira groaned pleasurably, the woman’s considerable backside smacking hypnotically against his thighs as she tightened around his cock.
“Yeah, you just love this, huh?” he growled savagely. “Fat-assed, maso American cunt?”
The muffled response from the woman was vaguely audible as “Yes, Master!”
Jasmine’s eyes watering to the brink of being in tears, along with the extraordinarily phallic toy strapped around her waist gratifying her (she could honestly see why men seemed to be so fond of their own equipment now), Ann was rather excited by the display put on by the older woman, her full, red lips contrasting nicely with the black silicone phallus fucking her mouth and throat.
“Well, I think the cunt gets it now, babe!” the blonde remarked sunnily, her expression somewhere between its usual kindness and violent, bestial lust. “Don’t you, my little slave? You just love being fucked by my gorgeous husband’s thick, hard cock, don’t you slut?!”
Again, a muffled, affirmative response for Jasmine’s new mistress, but Akira did not actually care to interpret it, apparently having gotten just as into their exploitation of the woman as his wife had. While he’d not had the presence of mind (or opportunity for that matter) to inquire, Akira was reasonably sure Ann had climaxed more times than he had; his own equipment did have its drawbacks, after all. However, this ceased to be much concern once he’d very audibly begun to climax as well, he and Ann both allowing Jasmine to slump onto the plush carpet as he painted her backside and thigh with more of his ejaculate.
“Yeah, you just fucking loved that, didn’t you, whore?” inquired Akira cruelly.
“Y-yes, Master.” squeaked Jasmine breathlessly.
“Good, get used to it, cunt. If I’m having a bad day and want to fuck someone’s slutty face, that’s what you’re here for. If my wife is having a bad day and she wants somebody to slap around or eat her pussy, that’s what you’re here for, got it? What you want or like doesn’t fucking matter to either of us, understood?
“Yes, Master.” she repeated, almost in a trance-like tone.
Akira flashed an evil grin. “Oh, and if you get knocked up? That’s just too damn bad, isn’t it?”
The blonde returned the gesture as she unstrapped the silicone phallus from her waist. “This guy’s REALLY good at that.” Ann remarked dreamily. “But I think you’ll learn to love your new life, you fat American whore.”
Exhausted as the couple were, almost immediately, their demeanor changed, helping the woman onto their marital bed, Akira cleaning the sweat (among other fluids) from her person while his wife grinned blankly.
“Was that good?” inquired the other woman breathlessly “Was I a good little slave slut?”
Ann giggled, pecking the woman on the lips. “Yes. Yes, you were.”
Akira gave his normal, friendly, gentle smile, placing an affectionate hand on the other woman’s shoulder. “I have to admit, you really did go above and beyond to help me fulfill the sexiest woman on earth’s fantasy.”
Jasmine giggled. “Ain’t she though?”
Late as it was and as much energy as they had expended, it was not surprising that all three of the participants in the fun wanted to do was sleep and chat a little more. Affectionately sandwiched between the couple, the American found herself in something of an awkward position. “You guys wouldn’t happen to have any mouthwash, would you?” she inquired, running one of her hands through Akira’s hair affectionately. “It’s…just not my favorite taste in the world. No offense.”
“None taken at all.” her “master” replied. “I understand.”
Despite being literally inches from her face, Akira nonetheless turned his gaze downward, slightly red in the face himself. “A-and speaking of offense,” he stammered awkwardly. “you know I’m n-not really- like that. A jerk like that, I mean. I-it’s just, I-I’ve always had these…fantasies and I’d never been with a- you know-”
Jasmine chuckled kindly. “What? A black woman? You can say it, you know.”
Her husband visibly relieved at the (repeated well beforehand) permission given him, Ann, on the other hand, had dealt with far more guilt even having this fantasy, let alone confessing it to Akira or realizing it. “But you really have been awesome through this whole thing.” remarked Ann with a kind smile. “Thanks again.”
“Oh, it was nothing. I’m sure any bi girl would have jumped at the chance!”
Akira cleared his throat. “Not really.” he revealed. “You’d be surprised how hard it is to find someone for something like this. It’s not exactly something you drop into a casual conversation with friends. They call them ‘unicorns’ for a reason.”
While only visible to Ann whom she was currently facing, Jasmine’s expression turned both confused and scandalized. “Even with a couple as sexy as you two? I don’t believe it!”
Ann grimaced slightly, beginning to count off with her fingers. “Out of all the people we actually fished for, we could only really trust three; the first, the real sexiest woman alive, I- we scared off, the second was more amused by us trying to hit on her more than anything, and the third actually agreed- being the sub was just a flat ‘no’ from her.”
“And there WAS a fourth we’d considered.” added Akira, a hint of guilt in his tone. “Ann still says the woman in question wanted to hatefuck her when we first met and the closet she’s in might as well be made of glass- we still shot the idea down almost immediately- it wasn’t worth the drama it would have created.”
Despite how “intimate” she had just been with the couple, Jasmine actually felt this insight into the workings of their personal relationships to be just as, if not more, intimate. “Well, I’m always here if you guys need a partner for another of your fantasies.” reassured Jasmine. “Within reason, of course.”
“Oh, of course we will.” confirmed Ann, playful but sincere. “And that’s a good call on your part; you know this guy gets off on danger, right?”
Akira gave an expression of faux-offense. “Hey!” he protested. “I don’t get off on THAT much danger! I’m not some seventeen year-old maniac anymore, you know.”
“Oh, really?” Ann taunted just as playfully. “Then why did you spend half of our engagement dinner with my parents with your hand up my skirt?”
Jasmine grinned. “Hey, you guys wanna take me and my parents to dinner? There’s a good chance I’d die of embarrassment during or shortly after, but at least I’d die pretty happy.”
Both halves of the very hospitable couple got quite a laugh out of that remark.