A Fairy Tale
Part 1

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Mult, Consensual, Romantic, Reluctant, BiSexual, TransGender, DomSub, Humiliation, Group Sex, Interracial, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Masturbation, Petting, Pregnancy, Size,

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Part 1 - When Heather tells her boyfriend she's pregnant, it's just the beginning of another romantic stroll down the boulevard of broken dreams...Or is it? Throw in a bisexual roommate, two hot transsexual Dommes, and a lot of sex along the way and who knows? Maybe it'll all end happily ever after all.

Chapter One

"Heather?" My boyfriend rapped lightly on the bathroom door. "What's wrong, are you okay? Heather?"

"Yeah..." I swallowed thickly and that was a mistake. I threw up some more, kneeling on the floor and feeling like death warmed over.

"Heather?" He knocked some more and I just wanted him to...

"Go away."

I washed my face and rinsed my mouth out, hoping it was over because there wasn't anything left in my stomach. All the Chinese food we'd had for our little romantic dinner had come up. That had been his idea and I hoped Brandon would leave, but of course he wouldn't. He was in love and he wanted sex, probably. I'd made him wait all week and now he was here and I was sick, how sexy was that?

Ordinarily I looked pretty good, but my blonde hair was damp with sweat and matted to my neck and forehead. My blue eyes were watery and red. I'd made a little mess on my brand new blouse, there went sixty bucks down the drain as I tried to wash out the stains, standing there like an idiot in my bra. It wasn't even a real one, just a sexy sheer lace bra so my nice round boobs jiggled half out of it as I scrubbed. My skirt was askew and a mess, but that hardly mattered. I was a train wreck anyway; twenty minutes of puking will do that to a twenty year old girl.

"Hey. Are you okay? You need anything? You want to lie down?" he asked, standing right there when I opened the door, naturally. It was his place, but I'd sort of forgotten that.

"Yeah," I said weakly "I wanna lie down."

Standing up would make me sick again and I let Brandon bring me to his bed. He was a good looking guy and people said we made a cute couple, me being pretty and he being, well, Brandon was pretty too, actually. It was a match made in heaven. I knew he was serious about me, too serious, and I liked him, but I wasn't ever going to love him. I hadn't told him that, of course, but I would eventually, more than likely when I found another guy I liked a little better. Or maybe not even that long as I had someone in mind already. I wasn't a total bitch. I mean that's what people do, and I wasn't lying to him or leading him on. He got full backstage access to my body, so he didn't have anything to complain about anyway.

I'd trade sex for fun any day of the week and twice on Sundays.

"Here we go, wow ... Okay." He went into full-tilt mother mode, showing me how much he cared. Blankets, check. Pillows, check. "Let me get you some water, okay? Do you want some uh, aspirin? Some Tylenol?"

"Do you have crackers?" I asked.

"Maybe, um ... I can go to the store, if you want."

"No, just aspirin, yeah." I smiled at him and the whole caring thing worked nice and cute, but I wished I was in my own bed just then.

After the aspirin and just a little swallow of water, Brandon laid down next to me. It was still early for us, just after eight, and the warm glow from the bedside lamp, and the warm comforter on his bed ... It was nice and I was actually feeling a little better, as long as I didn't move my head around too much.

"Feeling okay?" Brandon asked, his soft brown eyes full of worry.

"Yeah." I nodded. "I'm sorry, Brandon."

"It's okay, Hmmmm ... Do you think it was that Chinese food? Maybe it was bad or something and ... What?" He touched my stomach and I almost laughed.

"It isn't the food," I said, coughing slightly.

"Ummm ... Flu?" He scratched at his unruly black hair, maybe wondering if I had something contagious suddenly.

"Nope." I shook my head and that was a mistake. My tummy lurched and I winced, not wanting to lose it again.

"I don't understand." Brandon wasn't the brightest guy in his class at law school.

"It's morning sickness," I told him and I'd known I was going to have to tell him sooner or later, but I wished I was a little stronger when it happened.

"But..." He blinked at me. "It's night time."

"Brandon." I laughed and closed my eyes as he stroked my shoulder, getting closer and he really did have a one track mind. The boy loved sex almost as much as I did, but he wasn't sick either.

"What do you mean morning sickness?" he asked reasonably and he was playing with my bra strap and I started wondering if he didn't have a thing for sick girls.

"I mean morning sickness." I shrugged in annoyance, not feeling like I wanted to be touched at all. "I'm pregnant."

"What?" He pulled his hand away then and even looked at it for a second.

"I'm pregnant," I repeated and just lay there.

"But ... Heather!" He tried desperately to sort it out. "We always used condoms. You wouldn't do it unless we had protection."

"Yeah." I nodded carefully.

"How come you're pregnant? Did one break? Do they leak or something?" He started talking too fast and it made my tummy spin. "You can't be pregnant. I always wore a rubber! How can we have a baby?"

"Brandon," I said patiently, like he was a child.

"We were so careful. I bought some more today and ... Huh?"

"I didn't say it's yours," I told him as gently as I could.

"What?" He swallowed hard and his brown eyes took on an injured look, his sexy mouth turning into a little frown.

"It's not your baby, I know that," I said. "You don't have to worry."

"What? I love you! I want to marry you! I mean ... Shit! I was gonna ask you, Heather." He looked ready to cry, I thought. "I have a ring on layaway and next month ... What do you mean it isn't mine?"

"You do?" I frowned at hearing that unexpected news.

"Whose baby is it?" he wondered, torn between being really pissed and ... I don't know, something else.

"You don't know him, Brandon," I sighed and just sank back, enjoying that soft warm bed for one more minute before I had to leave.

"But you do." He'd gotten up, not wanting to be next to me, not anymore. He stood up so he could look down and point an accusing finger at me.

"Well, yeah." I smiled despite myself. "Obviously."

"Heather!" he pouted. "How could you do this to me? To us? Do you love that guy? How come you didn't tell me?"

"It was kind of an accident," I said. "I didn't mean to get pregnant."

"But you cheated on me!"

"Brandon, I've had sex with like six other guys since I met you, okay?" I frowned. "We're dating, going out sometimes. We're not going steady or anything, okay? You know that. It's just for fun."

"I haven't been with anyone else," he said, pacing a little racetrack round and round. "I haven't even looked at another girl!"

"Well..." I sighed. "Maybe you should have."

"How can you say that? I didn't want to!" And he fell onto the bed suddenly, or knelt on the floor actually, and leaned over it to take my hands in his. "I love you, Heather. I want to marry you."

"Brandon." I stared at him. "I'm pregnant with someone else's baby, doesn't that tell you something?"

"Like what?" he asked and then shrugged. "I don't care. It's still you. Will you marry me, Heather? Please?"

"You're insane!" I giggled and started moving slowly, trying to get my hands away from him. "I have to go. I'm gonna go home."

"Don't, Heather. Please? I'm not mad, see? I'm not. Don't be mad, okay? Just ... You're sick, lie back down. We'll talk, alright? Please?"

"No. I can't stay." I shook my head, fighting down the bile that rose with my head as I sat up. "I like you a lot, you're sweet and so nice, but I don't love you. I told you that before."

"Do you love him?" Brandon challenged me, still clinging to my fingers. "That other guy? Is that why you let him ... Why you're pregnant?"

"I don't know," I said truthfully. "It's ... Weird, okay? Let me go. I'm going to go home."

"When can I see you again?" he asked and I was slipping away. "Are you breaking up with me?"

"I'll call you, okay?" I tried to smile. "I'm gonna borrow your sweatshirt..." I grabbed his grey 'Property of' sweatshirt off his dresser. "So you know I have to give it back, right?"

"Heather." He remained kneeling on the floor, his body stretched out over the empty bed and looking up at me sadly.

"I'll see you later, Brandon." I left him there and I felt bad, a big load of guilt to go along with the nausea. I could have done that better, but I wasn't in any kind of shape for it.

I knew what his problem was too. He'd invested all his emotions in me, despite my warnings. I'd never promised the man anything and I'd even gone out of my way to make sure he knew I wasn't looking for anything but a good time with him. But he'd put everything into us, into me and him and whatever relationship he'd imagined we had. Now it was time to face it and he was fighting for it, desperate enough to accept someone else's baby growing in my belly. I was doing him a favor and he should have appreciated that, I thought.

Men were just so ... Clingy! Ugh! It was frustrating and it made the short walk back to my dorm only slightly more unpleasant than it otherwise would have been. I had to stop three times to puke in the bushes. But maybe the walking and the puking and just the fresh evening air did me some good because the sickness actually went away finally. It was like that though, although I'd only been going through it a few days. It would come all of a sudden out of nowhere, steal my lunch or dinner away, and then just as fast ... it was gone.

I just wished I could predict it a little better, but like I said, it had only just started so I thought a pattern would emerge eventually. I'd known for certain that I was pregnant almost a week, since I'd missed my period and got a home pregnancy test to confirm it. All it had taken was three times, maybe only the first time, but we'd done it three times bareback in one night and then ... A lot after that. On and off for a month almost, and now I had what I'd always imagined would be a disaster on my hands. I was a college junior and pregnant and unmarried. The one guy who would marry me, Brandon, was a divorce waiting to happen two years down the road. A blind woman could see that, so who needed it?

Chapter Two

"God! You look like shit, Heather," Denise said, my roommate, painting her toes on her bed and watching a House rerun on our little television.

We'd split the cost fifty-fifty, since neither of us had more than twenty dollars in our purses at any one time. That's only because we were always looking for fun though, not because we didn't have any. My parents sent me a pretty decent allowance and Denise was flat out spoiled by hers, but all that meant was that our closets were swollen and we had thirty-six flavors of red lipstick to choose from. It was better being broke anyway, guys liked to spoil us and we didn't feel bad about it if we were strapped for cash. Not that we would have felt bad, but at least we could pretend like we would.

"Thanks," I sighed, closing the door and leaning against it. "At least I'm feeling better than I did before."

"Heh." She shook her curly strawberry hair at me.

Denis was all Irish and we often thought we should switch names. She had a light dusting of freckles over her cheerful cheeks, smiling green eyes, and a petite little body that drove a lot of guys crazy. Seriously, she looked thirteen and I had no idea there were so many pedophiles at college. She was fucking at least two of her professors that I knew of, so that meant she was probably doing four of them, including that dyke English Lit. Prof, Dr. Hauven ... I'd done her as a freshman just to pass her class, but I wasn't a real lesbian. Neither was Denise. We were just opportunists.

"That's good right? If I feel better than shit?" I smiled sarcastically.

"I guess." Denise went back to her toes. "Morning sickness again, huh? Ruined your date?"

"I had to tell him," I said, getting on my bed and crossing my arms over my chest. "Brandon wants to marry me."

"You told him it was his?" Denise looked at me and she actually liked Brandon a lot, not sexually, but she thought he was good for me, like everyone else did. Such a cute couple! She probably thought Brandon and I getting married would be a good thing.

"No, of course not." I shook my head. "I don't want to marry him."

"Oh." Denise nodded and I knew what she was thinking.

"I don't want to marry anybody," I said and then noticed my celphone blinking, sitting on my nightstand where I'd left it. "Hey! How come you didn't tell me I had a call?"

"I forgot," she said with a lazy grin. "You gonna tell your parents?"

"Hmmmm..." I yawned with a little stretch as I reached for my phone.

"Before or after you start showing?"

"What do you think?" I wrinkled my nose and pushed the callback button.

"I think you'll wait until you have the baby and then pretend like you found it on your doorstep."

"That's a good plan..." I giggled. "You just think of ... Stacy? Hey! I just got in."

"Great, there you go..." Denise said to nobody.

"Um, nope. I'm not busy," I said softly, ignoring my roommate. "Yeah, course I'm sure, why? What do you want to do?"

" ... When are you going to tell her?" my roommate wondered.

"Yeah, I can come over." I smiled at Denise and wiggled my eyebrows. "All weekend? Yeah ... Okay ... Of course I can..."

"You should have just told Brandon you're gay," she sighed loudly. "But nobody ever listens to me."

"Yeah, I will ... Yeah, I know ... No ... God!" I was giggling and biting my lip and listening to Stacy while I watched Denise frown. "You are huh? Promise? Uh-huh ... I love you."

"Love?" She gave me a doubtful look and I ignored her some more.

"Stacy..." I breathed, hanging up the phone and looking at it for a long second. There were things I'd wanted to say but couldn't, not with Denise there. Stacy understood that though.

"Going out?" She sat back, straightening her pale legs and looking at her little red toes.

"Yeah, all weekend," I agreed. "Stacy invited me over."

"I bet," she sighed.

"What?" I rolled my eyes as I got off my bed, feeling much better then and I started undressing so I could get a shower and change before I left.

"I don't like her." Denise shrugged. "Doesn't matter anyway, she's your friend."

"You think I'm turning queer?" I laughed. "Don't worry about it."

"I don't care," she said. "Be queer all you want. Everybody's queer; but that girl is just ... Different."

"Yeah, she is." I grinned, pulling Brandon's sweatshirt off and tossing it at her. "You know what they say about straight girls..."

"Yeah, they just haven't met the right woman," she snorted.

"So, maybe I have." I smiled and loosened my bra as she threw the sweatshirt back at me.

"If that's all you want, you could go out with me tonight," Denise offered and I knew she liked me. We'd fucked before, but only when we were a little drunk and it had been okay.

"I thought you were going out with what's-his-name." I dropped my bra on my bed and unzipped my skirt.

"I feel a head-ache coming on." She pressed a hand to her forehead. "Please, Heather? Stay with me. We'll make some popcorn and watch TV and just be pigs all night."

"Oh!" I giggled. "Tempting!"

I pushed my panties down and off, teasing my roommate as my naturally blonde pussy came into view.

"We could give up boys completely!" I grinned at her. "Move to San Francisco and open up a tattoo parlor!"


"Can you tell I'm pregnant, do you think?" I asked her, turning my body and pushing my flat tummy out a little as I looked down.

"You're pregnant a month." Denise shook her head. "And you're gonna be a mommy, think about that."

"Spoilsport." I wrinkled my nose at her. "Can I borrow your soap?"

"What soap?" she asked suspiciously.

"The one that looks like a cock," I said with a grin. "I wanna get squeaky clean."

"You're so weird, Heather," she sighed. "It's in the bag. There, on my dresser."

"God, I love that thing." I stuck my tongue out at her.

I dug through her toiletries bag, which was like a little straw beach bag until I found her soap-on-a-rope, which looked amazingly like a nice fat cream colored cock, except all the veins and ridges had been smoothed away by constant use.

"Lesbian soap," I decided. "That's what we could do! Make soap!"

"Go away!" she said, ignoring me.

"Jealous!" I giggled and wrapped a towel around me before heading to the community showers.

I didn't know why Denise didn't like Stacy. They'd only met once and then just briefly, and they'd seemed to get along okay. I thought maybe it was just my best friend and roommate feeling a little left out. We had our own boyfriends, but we spent most of our time together anyway. Boys weren't a threat to our friendship either, being just boys like they were and somewhere between dogs and dolphins on the evolutionary ladder. Denise and I were pretty close, and now there was another friend, another girl, and I had been spending a lot of time with Stacy. Now I was going to spend a weekend with her.

I tried to put it out of my mind as I took my shower, washing my body and using that soap the way it was meant to be used. Masturbating with it, obviously, and it really was handmade by lesbian artisans just for that purpose. They swore it was perfectly healthy, so long as you didn't shower with it like three times a day or something. Once in awhile though ... Working that slippery smooth, deftly rounded length of phallus into my pussy felt sooooo good! It felt even better in my ass, believe it or not, and I was just starting to work it in and out, leaning against the tiled wall with my little round butt pushed out nicely, when I was interrupted by a couple of the other girls who shared our dorm.

"Oops!" One of them, Linda, giggled at me and her friend Lisa just pursed her lips.

I might have blushed, but it wasn't the first time I'd gotten caught frigging myself in the shower, so I just pulled the soap back out and gave them a little shrug. I fingered my ass for a little bit anyway, since it was already soapy. Every girl in that dorm was weird in one way or another, trust me. If college had taught me nothing else, it was that everyone has something to be ashamed of and the sooner you get over it, the happier you'll be.

My thing was sex and I didn't mind public sex all that much anyway. I'd masturbated deliberately in front of some of the girls, particularly Amy Welch, that girl was just totally fine! But Amy was straight as an arrow, or so she pretended, and I was convinced. Denise and I would get high sometimes, smoking a little pot in our room and talking about how much we'd like to rape her, but that was just being silly. Still, I could usually get off pretty good imagining Denise holding Amy's squirming body down on my bed while I reamed her tight virgin ass with that soap. I'll admit that my sexual fantasies weren't always what you would call nice, but that's the nature of fantasies and why they're so good.

"Want to borrow my soap?" I grinned at Lisa, a black girl with a big ass. She showed it off too, believe me.

"Uh, no thanks." She made a face under the hot water and I just shrugged. It was fun tweaking some of those girls a little, like she never fingered her ass before? Get real.

Lisa would get her revenge later, when the word got out that I was pregnant and especially when nobody would know who the father was. It wasn't like I was going to tell. So far as Denise was concerned, I told her it was some guy I didn't know, a stranger I'd picked up and let him bang me raw. She was the only one who knew I was pregnant, except Brandon now, and all he knew was that he wasn't the father. That would have to do.

I'd pretty much come to grips with having a baby. Yeah it was scary, and inside I felt pretty nervous about it, but I'd let it happen. It had been about as deliberate as such a thing can be, short of taking fertility drugs or something. Still, I did have to tell my parents soon, before I started showing or they'd really take it badly. It was going to be bad enough when I told them I didn't know who the daddy was. It was going to be a little Armageddon at Heather's house, pictures at eleven! But they'd love me and take care of me and we'd work it out. Parents are like that and if they couldn't handle it, well, they should have thought of that before having a kid, right? I wasn't too worried about them. I just knew it was going to hurt for a little while and I wished it wouldn't.

A baby wasn't the end of the world and I found it kind of exciting to know I had a new life growing inside me. I liked that a lot actually, much more than I'd expected I would. I'd resisted at first and hard, and I suppose a lot of people would call it rape, the first time anyway, but after that I'd been a lot more willing. I'd learned my lesson, so to speak, and even come back looking for more since it had been so good that first time. The fighting, the refusing and being taken, forced to submit and then accepting it with tears and a little anger and a lot of humiliation ... Oh yeah, that had tripped my trigger and I was hooked. I sort of wished I wasn't pregnant, just so we could keep trying, you know?

Probably you don't. Take my word for it, just for now.

"Linda wanted to use your cock ... I mean soap..." I told Denise as I came into the bedroom grinning. She'd started getting ready for her own night out.

"What?" She looked up at me from the bottom drawer of her dresser where she kept her panties for some reason. I kept mine in the top, like most people do, I think.

"Lisa? She wanted to get that big booty ready for her boyfriend," I teased. "I think he's white."

"You let that..." Denise paused, " ... colored girl use my soap in her ass?"

"You almost said it, huh?" I laughed. "You know, white people like you give the rest of us a bad name."

"Fuck you," she said with a wave of her hand. "You got my thong?"

"Which one?" I widened my blue eyes innocently. "The ... colored one?"

"I don't like black people, so what? Where's my thong?" Denise was a racist and she really didn't like having to hide it. I think that's what bothered her the most.

"Look in my drawer." I nodded towards my own dresser. "I borrowed it the other night, remember?"

"Did you wash it?" she asked, getting up and looking at me as I stood naked in front of the mirror and dried my hair.

"Uhhh ... You better smell it first."

"Great." She shook her head. "They name streets after people like you."

"Like what, route sixty-nine?"

"One way." Denise found her thong and held it to her nose. "How come you never wash my underwear?"

"Cause you like it used." I shrugged.

"Oh yeah. I forgot." She rolled her eyes, pulling the thong up until it barely covered her strawberry pussy. That girl was Irish all over.

"I think I wore it the night that black guy fucked me." I pursed my lips. "Remember him? Jamal or ... Hmmm ... Bubba? Was that his name? He was huge anyway."

"Fuck off!" Denise dipped her head in exclamation and I laughed.

"I was thinking about getting a little spade tattoo, a little Q maybe." I played with my damp pubic hair. "Queen of spades right above my pussy, what do you think?"

"I'm getting a little pissed," she warned me and I knew I pushed her a little too hard sometimes.

"I'm sorry, okay? I'm teasing." I gave her a little hug and Denise resisted at first, but finally she let me hold her and give her a kiss, my nipples popping hard against the top of her tits because she's only like five feet nothing and I'm six inches taller. She hasn't got any tits anyway, being the little girl she is, just big puffy pink nipples.

"You're being mean." Denise frowned as I let her go.

"Yeah, it's ... I dunno." I shrugged "I'm pregnant."

"That excuse is gonna get real old," Denise decided and we both went back to getting dressed.

"I only get to use it for nine months, come on!"

"You didn't really fuck a nig ... Black guy, did you?" She glanced at me. "Please tell me you didn't."

"I didn't," I sort of lied. I hadn't fucked one while wearing her thong.

"Good." She smiled then. "You're such a bitch sometimes."

"Me?" I rolled my eyes. "Never mind."

"What?" Denise looked genuinely confused and she really didn't get it at all.

"Nothing," I sighed, promising myself that sometime I'd have to get some black guy to fuck me, and come back and talk Denise into going down on me. That wouldn't be hard and it would really get me off seeing her eat a black guy's sperm and not realizing it. I'd say it was some white guy and she'd never know the difference, but I would.

My phone rang just as I opened the door on my way out. I never carried it with me; I hated phones and I hated people who lived on their phone. Whoever invented mobile telephones was a sadistic troublemaking bastard and I hope he ended up with something really bad, like terminal acne. It really is my one and only pet peeve. My telephone and the fear of becoming enslaved to it like everyone else I knew.

"Answer it for me," I told Denise and she made a face.

"It's Brandon," she said, reading his name on the little screen and it was still ringing.

"I'm not here. Just tell him ... I'm not here," I said and then I left, closing the door behind me as if to prove it.

Chapter Three

I'd dressed sort of sexy, but casual sexy. A pair of old worn jeans that fit my legs and ass tight, they were extremely comfortable and made me look taller than I was, I thought. Some one inch heels, sort of hiding beneath the bell bottoms, but comfortable with big heels, not stilettos or anything silly like that. A tight white t-shirt and no bra, just my firm boobs and hard nipples poking through the cotton. It said 'Dickies!' on the front so, yeah, it was cute. A suede jacket with tassel sleeves and my purse over my shoulder; I was all set for a ten minute walk off campus to Stacy's apartment.

She didn't go to college, Stacy just lived nearby and I wasn't even sure of her age. It could be a little hard to tell with her. I figured about twenty-seven maybe, give or take a year at the most. She'd picked me up in a local club, an under twenty-one club serving soft drinks to college kids who brought their own booze. I'm more into guys than girls, but she got my attention and held it long enough to get me back her to her place and I was ready for it. I'm definitely bisexual and going home with a tall, very attractive, and somewhat mysterious woman wasn't something to frighten me.

Denise had been right, there was something different about Stacy and I'd wanted to figure it out all night. After three years of playing the field at college, different means fresh and that's intoxicating to someone like me. Guys like Brandon were a dime a dozen. Pretty as he was, nice as he could be, I knew five more guys just like him. There was only one Stacy though and that was seriously cool. I just needed to figure out how to tell her I was pregnant. I wasn't frightened of telling her, not at all, just nervous.

She lived at the top of a modern residence, like a brownstone, but with three levels instead of just two, and three apartments. Stacy lived in the top one and it wasn't overly large, and too expensive probably, being in the university district as it was, but it was nice inside. I liked her place a lot and I was going to enjoy having a whole weekend there. I climbed the stairs slowly, feeling my stomach churning a little, but this was excitement, not morning sickness ... I hoped. The last thing I wanted was another round of that. I was sure Stacy would be just as attentive as Brandon had been, but I rather wished she wouldn't have to be. There were other sorts of attention I wanted from her.

"About time, slut," Stacy said as soon as she opened the door.

"Sorry Mistress." I swallowed hard, lowering my eyes as I started undressing immediately. I wasn't allowed to wear clothes in her apartment.

"Lucy, be a dear and bring me slut's collar, would you? It's there, on the bookshelf," she said, turning her head to speak over her shoulder.

I almost lifted my head at that, not expecting anyone else to be there and having no idea who Lucy might be. Luckily, I kept my wits and focused on kicking off my shoes and undoing my jeans, pushing them down my legs and leaning against the wall at the top of the stairs so I could get them off. I pushed my panties down as well, and then pulled my t-shirt over my head, using my movements as an excuse to see another woman standing behind my Mistress. She was tall, like Stacy, and large, not fat, but healthy and big boned you might say, with some real muscles evident beneath her ebony skin. Lucy was very attractive and very black and I almost smiled as I imagined what Denise would have thought of that.

"Chin up, slut," Stacy commanded as she fixed the leather dog collar around my delicate throat.

"Thank you, Mistress," I breathed and risked looking into Stacy's beautiful dark eyes for just a moment.

"She's pretty," the black woman decided and she stepped a little closer. "Wet too."

I gasped as Lucy reached out to finger my pussy, shoving her hand rudely between my thighs and pushing her middle finger inside me quickly. I had grown wet already and my cunt clasped around her digit as she wriggled it for a moment, sending a warm shiver up my spine.

"That's why I named her slut." Stacy laughed lightly. "It only took me about an hour to get her on her knees."

"That long?" Lucy giggled and she had a deep, husky laugh.

I blushed slightly and my knees weakened as the woman fingered me, both of them standing in the open doorway and talking like I wasn't even there. Lucy pulled her finger free of me a few seconds later, her dark skin gleaming with my juices and she held it in front of my face. I opened my mouth quickly, wrapping my lips around it and then my tongue, washing her finger clean as if it were a long thin cock.

"Good girl," Lucy said, rewarding me with a smile.

"Get your clothes, slut. My friend Lucy is up here for a little visit and I promised her a good time this weekend," Stacy said, walking away with Lucy following close behind. She wasn't going to wait for me and I quickly gathered my clothing.

"I might have to stay longer with a sexy white bitch like that for entertainment," Lucy said, obviously meaning me.

"Heh ... You can't tell me you don't have a little stable of your own," Stacy replied. They were sitting down in the living room while I pushed the front door closed behind me.

"A kennel, Stace," the woman said. "I have a few puppies, a couple bitches for breeding, you know."

"Mmmm ... I bet you do." They were having drinks, wine it looked like, and I hurried to the master bedroom. There were two bedrooms in her apartment and I put my clothes away neatly before returning to them.

" ... surprised you haven't bred this bitch yet," Lucy said as she watched me walk into the room, hands behind my back and head down.

"We're trying," Stacy told her friend. "She put up a little fight at first, but that was just for show. Wasn't it slut?"

"Yes Mistress," I agreed eagerly. "Just for show. I love breeding."

Mistress Stacy didn't play a lot of dramatic BDSM games. It was enough that I call her Mistress and keep my submissive posture; that I wear a collar and do whatever she told me to do. We didn't need a lot of crawling around or fancy window dressing to demonstrate the fact that she was my Mistress and I her obedient slave. So it came as a small surprise to see her dressed as she was, looking very much like I might have imagined a real Mistress would.

My Mistress looked beautiful always, but sitting there in a red corset trimmed with black lace, she amazed me. The taut leather thrust her breasts upward, exposing her dark nipples not quite completely, but not hiding them at all either. I especially enjoyed the way it showed of her flat stomach and round hips. She wore a matching red thong, black stockings and leather shoes with two inch heels and open toes. It seemed much more than what she'd normally wear when we were together and I found the effect stunning.

Stacy had a pale complexion in sharp contrast with her black hair, worn long and loose around her striking face. Her high cheeks and strong jaw and chin complimented her dominant personality. My Mistress possessed a certain attitude, or charisma you might say, that made girls like me seriously weak for some reason. And her eyes ... They were a very dark shade of blue, but unless you saw them in bright sunlight, you'd never know. They just looked black as she sat there drinking her wine. Could it be any wonder that I'd fallen in love with the woman? That's what it was and I could deny it when we were apart, but standing before her naked? I was in love and we both knew it.

Mistress Lucy, as I would soon learn to call her, was physically as beautiful as Stacy, but in different ways. I don't mean the obvious like her black skin and warm, honey colored eyes, but in the way she smiled or the tilt of her head when she looked at me. She had a calculated confidence, I thought, as opposed to Stacy's more natural, comfortable dominance. That may have been because I didn't know the woman well enough yet, however, and I wouldn't have dared voice my opinions aloud in any event.

She had full lips, and a short wide nose to go with her oval face and long kinky black hair. I admired her breasts as well, large and impossibly firm, and her body was muscular, as I said. Lucy possessed a well defined look that seemed incredibly sexy to me, especially as she wore just a short black skirt and a black lace bra over her tits. I could see her washboard abs and the strength in her shoulders. Even the muscles in her thighs, flexing beneath her skin as she crossed her long legs, caught my immediate interest. Both of those women were over six feet tall and I felt very small and weak by comparison.

"Maybe I should breed a black baby in her," Stacy mused. They were both staring at me and so I flushed pink with my pussy already dripping juice down my thighs. The unabashed attention made me incredibly hot inside and out.

"Breed a nigger in her belly?" Lucy sipped her wine. "Would she like that?"

"I don't know." Stacy shrugged. "How about it, slut? You want a black baby growing in your soft little tummy?"

"Mistress ... I..." I swallowed hard and cleared my throat.

"That doesn't sound like a yes or a no, " Lucy observed with a chuckle. "Your slut needs a little work."

"She's new," Stacy said. "I've only had her a little more than a month. Answer the question, slut. Do you want a black bastard, or not?"

"Y-Yes Mistress," I whispered, afraid to tell her I was already pregnant with a baby I knew to be white.

"Is she ovulating?" Lucy wondered. "I have a little database back at home; Dani keeps it for me. Remember him?"

"Daniel?" Stacy gave a little gasp. "I thought he was getting married to that Jewish girl."

"He thought he was too!" Lucy said. "Until I got a hold of him a week before the wedding."

"No!" Stacy laughed. "Really?"

"Yeah, I swear." The woman nodded. "I was the stripper at his bachelor party. I had that boy eating candy from my ass in front of his friends."

"You're so full of it!" Stacy shook her head. "Isn't she, slut? Mistress Lucy is full of shit, don't you think?"

I blinked at that, knowing any answer would be the wrong one, but disagreeing with Stacy was unthinkable and the lesser of two evils, I hoped.

"Oh, you play dirty." Lucy grinned, clucking her tongue playfully.

"Yes, Mistress," I whispered. "Mistress Lucy is ... full of shit."

"Did she just say I was full of shit?" She sounded suitably shocked.

"I'm afraid so," Stacy said sadly. "I guess I haven't trained her as well as I thought."

"I think you should do something about that," Lucy said with a theatrical pout. "I've never been so insulted in my life."

"Maybe I could have her clean your asshole. I mean, if she's so sure you're full of shit..." Stacy gestured with her hand.

"Hmmm ... Good idea. I'm afraid I'm not full of shit," Lucy grinned at her friend, "but I never say no to a good rim job."

"Get over here, slut. Down on your knees," Stacy commanded me as Lucy stood up, lifting her skirt and turning around.

The black woman wore a silver thong of her own and she knelt on the sofa, presenting her firm black ass to me as I took my position behind her. She smiled over her shoulder as she pulled her thong to the side, inviting me to rim her asshole while my Mistress watched.

I brought my hands to Lucy's black ass tentatively and when neither of the women stopped me, I grabbed her smooth cheeks in my white fingers, spreading Lucy's ass wide so I could see her dark and tightly puckered anus. It was warm and musky, with small black hairs curling around it. I could smell her ass and it wasn't unpleasant, if anything it made my mouth water to taste her beautiful black body. I kissed it first and then worked my tongue against it the best I knew how, imagining I was eating a pussy and savoring the sweaty acrid flavor of the woman's asshole.

"Oh, this slut has talent," Lucy sighed.

"Shhh ... You'll spoil her," my mistress said. "Slut's barely adequate, remember? Or do you want me spoiling your bitches next time I come down to Florida?"

"Yeah ... Barely ... Mmmm ... That's it, slut, get your tongue inside my nigger ass," Lucy taunted me. "Lick it from the inside out. I know all you white bitches love anus."

I licked around her asshole eagerly and worked to pry my stiff wet tongue inside her rectum, sucking at my own saliva as it gathered on her black skin and swallowing it quickly. I massaged her ass with my hands, squeezing those smooth buttocks and enjoying how every part of this woman was firm and muscular, even her ass it seemed. I moaned softly as the tip of my tongue found purchase and I worked to exploit it, digging at her asshole until I could get a real taste of her, my mouth muscle slipping a fraction deeper as Lucy began to relax.

"All my puppies love ass," Lucy told her friend. "It really is the best way to train them at first."

"Don't I know it," Stacy agreed. "That and a little friendly rape never hurt, did it, slut?"

"Mmmphhh ... No Mistress," I said softly, licking my lips and taking a breath before going back to suck the black woman's ass some more.

"Rape?" Lucy asked.

"That's what slut likes to call it, but she was just playing hard to get. She had a thing about condoms." I could hear Stacy's shrug. "Some sort of fetish for birth control. I had to wean her off of that."

"Ahhh..." Lucy laughed. "Use your fingers, slut. Go ahead, my ass won't bite."

I moaned my agreement and brought a finger to her asshole, pressing inward slowly while I licked around that penetration. Lucy was hot inside and soon wet as well. I worked my spit inside her, finger fucking the woman's ass for a moment and then sucking my finger clean before doing it again. She was opening for me now and I was able to shove my tongue inside her finally, replacing it with two slippery fingers so I could widen her deep puckered hole even further.

"So, she could be pregnant now, huh?" Lucy wondered.

"Maybe," Stacy replied. "I haven't seen her in a week. Did you get your period, slut?"

"Mmmm ... No ... Mistress..." I breathed, swallowing hard and daring to glance at her.

"How late are you?" she wanted to know. "Are you pregnant?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Damn! Already bred," Lucy snorted. "The story of my life."

"And when were you going to tell me about that?" Stacy wondered and I couldn't tell if her annoyance might be feigned or real.

"Mistress, I'm sorry." I closed my eyes and looked down.

"Shut-up and get back to that ass." Stacy waved at me. "And stand up ... Bend over and spread your legs..."

My Mistress stood up, intent on punishing me for not telling her as soon as I found out that I was pregnant. I should have told her several days before, as soon as I'd tested myself, but I hadn't. I'd waited and now she was going to punish me, I hoped. It made my heart beat even faster and I could feel my clit thrumming with excited anticipation. Stacy didn't spank my ass, when I was bad. She fucked it.

"That's it, slut ... Get your face in there. You're already pregnant, so let's have some of your ass too, huh?" Stacy had moved behind me and I knew what she planned on doing and I tried to tell myself to relax.

"Mmmm ... That's it, slut. Don't worry, you don't have to see it," Lucy said, reaching back to grab a fistful of blonde hair and pulling my mouth hard between her cheeks.

Mistress Stacy tugged her thong aside, freeing her thick white shemale cock and I could feel it slapping my ass, heavy and hot and growing larger against my skin. She pushed with her hips, letting her fat cock ride the crevice of my ass, back and forth until it was completely stiff with the woman's arousal. She had a large cock, much bigger than Brandon's, or almost any guy I'd been with, a solid eight or nine inches at least and so thick my fingers would barely go around it.

"Let's get it wet first," Stacy breathed.

She rubbed her cockhead over my sex, splitting my swollen labia with the smooth pink head and looking for the entrance to my already impregnated womb. It was Stacy's baby I carried and she'd taken me hard that first time I'd come to her apartment. I'd expected lesbian sex and wound up on my back, with my legs over her shoulders while she fucked her raw cock into my cunt.

I'd protested and tried to push her off, not expecting her to have a cock at all in the first place, and very much not wanting a baby in the second. I'd cried and begged and finally just taken her inside, trying to refute the pleasure and succeeding only in making it better when I finally surrendered completely. Stacy had made me cum around her thick cock, as if she knew all along that I was just dying for someone to take me that way. Stacy forced me to have unprotected sex and by the end of it I was her willing slave. She'd found the key to unlock my secret desires.

Stacy had fucked me numerous times over the next few weeks, three times that first night alone, and she'd looked me in the eyes as she'd filled my unprotected cunt with her potent sperm. She wanted to breed me, as she called it, and put a baby in my belly. I'd have her bastard and she'd take care of us both when I delivered. I was her slut and I'd be bred often and not only with her, Stacy promised, but with any hard cock she wanted my wanton womb to nurse on.

"Mmmphhh..." I groaned as my Mistress pushed her penis inside my pussy slowly, both of us enjoying the sensation of my tender hole being stretched once more by her shemale cock.

"I think she likes it," Lucy said. She held my face firmly planted to her asshole, pushing and pulling at me, using my hair to move my mouth around as I worked to tongue fuck her black ass.

"I know she does," Stacy agreed. "Fuck, she's tight! Like a virgin, I swear!"

"Some puppies are like that." The black woman nodded. "They're worth their weight in gold."

"Fuck." Mistress laughed. "Slut's worth her weight in shit, but I'll keep her anyway. After she has my bastard, I'll find her big black stud."

"Get her a c-section," Lucy suggested, "Keep that pussy tighter longer."

"Oh yeah, definitely ... Ugh!" Stacy slammed her cock the last few inches, knowing she'd bottom out and kiss my cervix with the head of her big dick.

She also knew I loved that feeling, how it almost hurt, but felt so good that the discomfort didn't matter. It knocked the air out of my lungs for a second and my whole body seemed to spasm and then I was cumming, just that quickly, my cunt shaking and clamping around Stacy's prick like a fist. I moaned against Lucy's sweaty, spit-covered flesh, my face burning and soaked as I fought for air. I could barely keep my balance as I threatened to collapse beneath the sensations that filled my feverish body.

"Orgasmic little whore, isn't she?" Lucy laughed and Stacy grunted in reply, working her cock back and forth quickly to stir up the juices flooding my hot pussy.

"Once she ... Ugh! ... Starts, she doesn't want to ... Ugh! ... Stop, either." Mistress chuckled as she teased me, pulling her cock out of me completely so that I moaned at the sudden emptiness.

"Mind if I try her on for size?" Lucy asked, pushing my head away so that I did in fact lose my balance and fall on my butt.

I looked up to see Mistress Stacy's long thick cock jutting from her feminine body, glistening wet with my cum and her own juices. She'd pulled her thong far over, enough so her smoothly shaved balls hung free, large and heavy in their soft sack. The same balls that had put a baby in my womb and I licked my lips, feeling dizzy and frustrated all at once.

"Be my guest," she told her friend. "Slut won't mind taking some black cock, will you?"

"No ... Mistress!" I gasped, turning my head to see Lucy exposing her own shemale prick, every bit as large as Stacy's and black like the rest of her with a gleaming purplish glans dripping precum.

"Come here, slut ... Get that tight little cunt of yours down on this..." Lucy was sitting on the sofa and crooking a finger at me with a happy smile.

I was bent over again, riding Lucy's black cock while she held my hips, and leaning forward so that Stacy could feed me her own turgid penis, flavored now with my recent orgasm. I sucked on it greedily; my lips stretched thin around the shaft as my Mistress held my head in her hands. Lucy's cock filled me as much as Stacy's ever had and I rocked my hips under her direction, grinding my pussy down hard as her cockhead worked itself against the very bottom of my hungry cunt. I was in heaven like that, cumming again and harder this time as I was filled at both ends.

"You like my big girl cock, don't you, slut? You wanna be one of my fuck puppies? You wanna come home with me, slut?" Lucy asked and all I could do was moan as I tried to swallow all the spit and precum flooding my overstuffed mouth.

"Don't tease her, Lucy." Stacy laughed. "You know she's not for sale yet."

"Well, when you do put her on the block, you call me first," Lucy said. "This white ho needs some serious black breeding!"

"How about a trade?" Stacy suggested, holding my head and fucking my mouth now with slow short strokes. "Slut for Dani, what do you think?"

"Right now?" Lucy asked with unconcealed interest.

"After she drops her bastard," Stacy told her friend.

"Heh ... How about you abort it and I take her for Dani when I go home on Monday," Lucy offered. "I can put that fag's ass on a plane right now. He'll be here in the morning sucking your cock like the world was ending."

"I always liked him," Mistress sighed.

"I got his old girlfriend too," Lucy said. "That Jewish girl? I bred her myself, she had twin sluts."

"No shit?" Stacy laughed. "She's living with you?"

"Hell no, she's living with a pimp I know in Orlando, doing tourist daddies for chump money," Lucy said with a chuckle of her own. "It was a big scandal, that little uptown bitch having nigger babies."

"Get her back, I'll trade slut for the both of them," Stacy said.

"You haven't even ... Ugh! ... seen her," Lucy grunted, lifting her ass off the sofa, pounding my pussy hard now.

"Is she nasty?" Stacy asked.

"She's a nasty fuck, I'll tell you that. She ain't ugly though, she's fine as hell," the black woman promised. "She'll do anything too, believe me. That white cunt is insatiable!"

"So will this one." Mistress pulled her cock out of my mouth and slapped me across the face with it while I panted for air.

"Well, she ain't fine like this slut, yeah," Lucy admitted. "This bitch is gorgeous and that pussy ... Jesus, Stace, she's fucking my dick off!"

I smiled inwardly at that, bouncing my ass hard off the black shemale's muscular thighs with a damp and sweaty slapping sound. I was having multiple orgasms, little ones that were driving me insane and all I could do was hold on tight to Mistress Stacy. I kept my hands on her ass, digging my nails into her skin as she teased my mouth with her swollen cock. She would slide that long hard piece of girly man meat over my cheeks and nose, leaving a trail of slimy spit and precum everywhere it went. I lapped it up too, chasing my mistress with my open mouth and desperate to suck her off and swallow Stacy's creamy load.

The thought that she might be serious about trading me to Mistress Lucy never even entered my mind.

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