Tuesday, September 17, 2019

[F4M] So, you want to be apprentice to the greatest Mistress in the MILFtriarchy? Benefits include healthcare, free room and board, and five buxom MILFs a week.

Filling out an application is never easy - let alone with a brunette beauty seemingly intent on driving you to climax with her lips alone bobbing in your lap. But every time you reach that precipe of that peak of orgasmic pleasure, she withdraws your cock out from the depths of her tight throat and wags her finger.

"Mistress doesn't like a man who finishes too quickly." She'd tease, all the while bathing your shaft slickly wet with the skilled expertise of a well-trained suckslut. Befitting the A Grade tattooed onto her left shoulder, itself an astonishment. The whores at your local brothel would be hard-pressed to scrape together a C grade collectively - but your potential new employer is handing out A grade blowjobs in the waiting room like they're candy.

Not that she seems to be short on highly trained sex-slaves. Your fellow applicants are each being serviced by their own talented mouths, and the massive room itself is seemingly decorated entirely by a bevy of Amazonian women. Lithe muscles and buxom breasts glistening with oil as they pose like living works of art, sometimes undulating against their attendant pole with such deft skill that would put most free strippers to shame.

An onslaught for the eyes... and your cock. Just a little test I'd concocted for any potential applicant. Can't have my new apprentice be overly distracted by the cornucopia of feminine sexuality I hoard within the walls of my palatial home, after all.

"The Mistress will see you now." An attendant proffers you with a smile - though she knows that your gaze is more likely to be solely focused on her blouse straining breasts.

"Good luck in there." Your personal suckslut murmurs, kissing up and down your shaft with luxuriant poise.

By the time you're on your feet and with your pants no longer pooling around your ankles, she's gone. Disappeared into one of the concealed entrances scattered around the room, from which waitresses occasionally appear bearing refreshments balanced on trays suspended from their pierced nipples.

Click Clack. Click Clack.

The sound of heels on marble tile as the attendant leads you through the winding halls of my domain, occasionally pausing to point out rooms of interest. The dormitory. The collaring studio. The breaking room. All important rooms to internalize, but there's only one room that might cause your heart to skip a beat.

My Office.

A room of extravagant luxury, tempered by an assortment of secretarial sluts attending my every need. Each is dressed in the same oversexualized facsimile of office attire as your attendant, who is now closing the oak-wood doors behind her as she makes her exit. Such clothing is a necessity - there isn't a breast in the room before you that is lesser in size to your head.

The greatest bust of all belonging to the woman sitting behind the desk at the end of the room - the only woman you've seen today without a collar.

Me.

Tilting my head as my emerald gaze roams your body, a wry smile clinging to my lips as I tap my cheek with a painted nail. Crimson locks cascading about me as I lean forward in my chair, a flash of black lace discernible amidst pale white cleavage - abundantly on display, given the low cut of my blouse.

With one snap of my finger, I have you seated, with your clothes folded neatly and set on my table, and with three women sharing your still saliva-slicked cock. They take turns pressing your tip so deep into the depths of their throat that their noses press against your crotch, even as the remaining pair worship every available inch of skin with their tongues. A redhead, a brunette, and a blonde - MILFs, you'd have called them if you ran into any one of my gorgeous slaves at a bar.

"So, why should I hire you to be my assistant?" I broach, that wry smile still resplendent on my black-painted lips. "What makes you worthy of this position - of having me offer you five lovely women a week for your services."

My fingers caress your application - impressive enough by the standards of most slavehouses for sure, but of course there's no place of submission like my own. "What qualifications do you wish for me to be keenly aware of in deciding whether to shower you with more breasts and cunts than you'd ever have had in your lifetime?"


Planning on collecting your own harem through hard-work and dedication? Perhaps you're hoping to turn the tables and add a slave Mistress to your collection? The more novel the idea, the better!

Limits: No Underage Characters



Submitted September 17, 2019 at 07:20PM by recurrentbeginning https://ift.tt/2ZXSbSH

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