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Plays Well With Others © 2011 by Selena Kitt, Carl East, Tawny Taylor
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REPRINT: “The Real Mother Goose” First Edition © March 2009 Selena Kitt
REPRINT: “Claim Me” First Edition © November 2010 Tawny Taylor
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Plays Well With Others
By Selena Kitt, Carl East and Tawny Taylor
Three bestselling erotica authors join together to bring you a trio of hot stories in a sizzling anthology of sex! Selena Kitt’s “The Real Mother Goose” takes you on a wild fantasy ride of delicious BDSM pleasure in a setting that defies the imagination. In Carl East’s “Hell’s Gate,” Courtney’s psychic cleansing of an old house awakens not just a demon, but her own sexual appetite as well. And finally, Tawny Taylor’s “Claim Me” is a thrill ride of passion, intrigue, romance and dark, erotic hunger. This triad of tales is sure to bring you hours of reading pleasure, because these three authors play very well together!
Table of Contents
BOOKS
The Real Mother Goose by Selena Kitt
BONUS CONTENT
Selena Kitt Bonus Content and Biography
Carl East Bonus Content and Biography
Tawny Taylor Bonus Content and Biography
THE REAL MOTHER GOOSE
BY SELENA KITT
~*~*~2010 Epic Award Finalist~*~*~

Preface
No one ever gets these things right.
Yes, Mother Goose—that’s me! What threw you off, the garters and stockings and black leather whip? Like I said, no one ever gets these things right. Father Goose says they’ve twisted my stories around, and according to the books he brought home with him after he crossed back over, they claim I never existed at all! I guess, historically speaking, that’s true. I never did really exist in that world. From what I hear, it’s dreadfully dull. I’m sure I would just be bored. It’s probably better that the real stories never made it out. I don’t know that the Earthfolk were ready for them.
Chapter One
Little Bo Peep has lost her sheep
And can't tell where to find them.
Leave them alone,
And they'll come home,
Wagging their tails behind them.
“Peep!” The voice shook the room and the startled girl looked up as Mother came in. “Do you know where your sheep are now?”
“No, Mother.” The girl looked up from her position, kneeling on the floor, her blue eyes wide. “I penned them before I left, I swear it.”
Mother Goose came toward her, the high heels of her soft boots clicking on the floor. She squatted down before Peep, whose hands were bound behind her to her feet with pink satin sashes.
“You are a pretty little one.” Mother lifted the girl’s chin and studied her face, her gaze moving over the girl’s body, the pink and white corset drawn tight, her blonde curls spilling over her shoulders, partially hiding Peep’s rosy little nipples. “Sometimes I think you’re just playing dumb.”
“No, Mother,” Peep implored, shaking her head. “I penned them. I promise you.”
“Is that so?” Mother stood. Peep looked up Mother’s long legs, encased in black fishnet stockings and garters, the dark triangle between her legs exposed, as it always was, for easy access.
Mother had taken to wearing black since Father had crossed over, and her mood was ever changeable, but lately she seemed often cross and hard to please. Mother tapped her toe in front of Peep’s knee, folding her arms over her ample breasts, pushed up high in her black corset, but covered with the sheer, lace peignoir she always wore, unbuttoned to the floor.
“Mother, please,” Peep pleaded. “I will go tend them, if you let me.”
Mother walked over to the cabinet and the girl moaned, the sound caught halfway between regret and anticipation. “I think we need a little correction, don’t you?” Mother’s voice drifted over her shoulder as she chose a small cat o’nine tails from her collection.
“Please,” Peep pleaded again, her eyes downcast. “I’ll be a good girl.”
“Yes,” Mother murmured, coming to caress her cheek with a soft hand. “You will.”
Mother reached behind the girl and began untying the pink satin ribbon binding her. Peep sighed in relief, rolling her tired shoulders once her arms were free. She leaned forward onto her hands and knees as Mother began to untie her feet, but then the older woman stopped.
“No… this is good.” Mother tightened the sashes at the girl’s ankles, chuckling. “Turn around, Little Bo Peep who’s lost her sheep, and doesn’t know were to find them.”
Peep did as she was told, turning her face toward the wall, using her hands to slowly work herself around. She felt Mother’s hand caressing her ass, and she shivered, looking back over her shoulder at the older woman. Mother squatted down behind her, beginning to drip the many straps of the cat o’nine tails over Peep’s behind like a little leather waterfall.
“Peep’s little puss,” Mother whispered, parting the dark blonde fuzz with her fingers to peer in at the pink treasure. “I love peeping at Peep’s little puss.” Mother giggled, wiggling her fingers through and finding the girl’s clit.
“Oh, Mother!” Peep moaned, lifting her bottom in the air as much as she could with her feet tied together at the ankles.
“That’s right, Peep,” Mother encouraged, with her finger and her voice. The girl’s clit was swollen and pulsing. “You like it so much, don’t you?”
Peep nodded, glad her long blonde hair covered her red, flushed face. Mother’s fingers rubbed there, making her moan with pleasure. Peep’s little puss was incredibly responsive, her lips swelling, the pink color deepening to a rosier shade.
“You’ve been a naughty shepherdess, haven’t you, Peep?” Mother asked, standing behind her. The girl nodded, her blonde hair falling in waves over the stone floor. She felt the first blow from the cat o’nine tails, almost a gentle thing, with just a little sting. She twisted and squirmed.
“Oh, Mother, please,” Peep whispered. Her pussy throbbed from the older woman’s attention.
“Yes, tell me.” Another blow, and then another. Mother waited.
“I lost my sheep,” the girl sobbed, feeling another slap, another. Her bottom felt hot. She cried out as she felt three more stings from the cat o’nine tails in quick succession. “Oh, Mother! Please!”
But the older woman was catching a rhythm now, and Peep heard her working hard. She lashed the girl again and again, until Peep’s bottom felt red and raw and huge, and her pussy—it was on fire, throbbing with longing. She hid her shamed face behind her curtain of hair, her tears falling onto the stone floor.
“Now, are you going to find those sheep, Miss Peep?” Mother grabbed the girl by the hair and pulled her head back, looking down at her tear-stained face. Peep nodded, moaning softly, looking dazed, her eyes glassy. “But first, you’re going to do penance, aren’t you? On your knees.”
Peep nodded, tears still streaming down her rosy cheeks. “Yes, Mother.”
Mother moved in front of her, leaning back against the wall. “Up, Peep,” she instructed, using the girl’s hair to pull her fully to her knees. Peep sat up, looking up at her with big, wide eyes. “You know what to do.”
Peep leaned forward, parting Mother’s pussy lips with her tongue. Mother was very wet, and the girl found her clit and began to suck and lick it, knowing just what the older woman liked, running lazy circles at first and then moving her tongue back and forth along the hooded button.
Mother moaned, rubbing her palms over her own dark nipples, pulling at them, twisting them. She ground her pussy against the girl’s face, using Peep’s tongue, her juices spilling down her chin and throat. Peep whimpered when Mother slipped a hand behind her neck, pulling her in tighter. She tried to keep her nose clear, moving her tongue faster and faster over the woman’s clit, feeling her writhe and wriggle.
“Good girl,” Mother moaned, moving her hips in circles now, too. Her hand was tired of holding Peep’s neck and she reached out and grabbed the girl’s crooked staff leaning against the wall, a little pretty pink and white be-ribboned thing. Mother hooked the staff around Peep’s neck, and the girl gasped, feeling herself being drawn deeper into the older woman’s wetness.
Peep could barely breathe, but she didn’t stop, not for a moment, keeping her lapping tongue focused right over Mother’s clit. Her own pussy throbbed, and she longed to touch it, but she knew Mother would be angry. She squeezed her legs together, the smell and sight and sound of pussy all around her—she was drowning in it.
“Ohhh!” Mother cried out, and Peep felt the crooked staff pull her up tight by the neck, shoving her even more deeply against Mother’s slick flesh, if that was possible. “Yes, yes, that’s good, make Mother come in your mouth.”
And she did, her body a shaking, quivering torrent as she flooded Peep’s mouth with her juices. Mother leaned there for a moment, her chest heaving, loosening her grip on the staff. Peep tilted her face up, her tongue stuck out completely, the tip poised right at Mother’s clit, just like she was taught.
Mother smiled, patting the girl’s head. “No, doll. Not another for Mother. But maybe a pet for Peep?”
The girl’s eyes brightened, and her pussy quivered. Mother walked around the girl, bending down to untie her ankles. She gave her a hand up, leading Peep over to the huge, high bed in the middle of the room.
“On your knees,” Mother instructed, watching Peep crawl forward into the bed. The girl stayed near the edge, back on her hands and knees. “Ohhhh, look at Peep’s little puss,” she murmured, and she slapped it with her bare hand, making the girl gasp and cry out. “You like it, don’t you, pet? You’re so wet!”
Peep moaned, spreading her legs a little wider, arching her back. Mother chuckled, slipping two fingers into her, easily—she was like butter. She moved her fingers in and out of the girl’s wetness, turning her fingers as she did, and Peep met her motion, rocking back with her hips.
“Tell Mother,” the older woman whispered, leaning down to kiss her round, pink bottom.
“Yes!” Peep moaned when she touched her clit, finding it with her thumb and rubbing. “Oh, Mother, yes, I love it, I love it, I do!”
She was rewarded as Mother’s hand drove into her harder, faster, digging deep. They were both breathing hard, working hard, Peep’s hands clenched into fists as she grasped the bedcovers, her pink toes curling. Mother smiled, using her other hand and slipping one wet fingertip into the girl’s exposed rosebud, her asshole tight.
“Ohhhhhhh!” Peep’s whole body stiffened as she came, the force of it pressing her further back against Mother, driving every inch of mother’s fingers into her orifices as she bucked and thrashed and moaned. She collapsed onto the bed, forgetting herself, still shivering.
Mother watched her for a moment, the flushed cheeks, the round, rosy ass, the cinched waist, her corset heaving with her breath, and then she licked her fingers, smelling Peep on them. “You do need to find those sheep, pet,” she reminded her.
Peep sat up, nodding, moving to stand. Her limbs were tingling and shaky from being tied up. “Yes, Mother. I will find them and put them in their pen for the night.”
“Good girl.” Mother caressed her cheek and then sat on the bed and watched Peep fetch her crook and walk unsteadily out the door.
When she was gone, Mother called, “Willie!” The little man came in, bowing to Mother as he entered. “Willie, Mother needs a bath.”
He nodded again, turning to go, and she called, “Oh, and Willie? Come here.” He advanced toward the bed and waited. His head only came up to the top of the mattress and he stood looking up at her.
She patted the top of his head, smiling. “Wee Willie Winkie,” she murmured, chucking him under the chin. “Do remember to go out there tomorrow morning and let those sheep out of their pen, won’t you, darling?”
He nodded, smiling, his eyes bright. “Yes, Mother.”
Chapter Two
Little Boy Blue
Little Boy Blue, come blow your horn,
The sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn.
Where is the boy who looks after the sheep?
He's under a haystack, fast asleep.
“Guess where I found this one, Mother?”
She looked up from her tea, seeing Little Boy Blue dragging in the young man she had recently hired to help Peep look after the sheep.
“Oh, no, not again!” Mother tsked, standing and moving toward them.
“You guessed it, under the haystack, fast asleep!” Blue exclaimed, shaking his head and grabbing the young man by his shirt collar, forcing him to his knees on the floor. “You bow before Mother, swine,” he hissed.
Mother squatted down near the young man, lifting his chin. He was dirty, but his eyes were a clear, bright, and very defiant blue. “Tommy boy,” Mother murmured, licking her thumb and rubbing it over a smudge on the young man’s cheek. He jerked his head away, glaring at her.
Mother sighed, folding her arms, and stood to look at Blue. “Are these magic sheep I have?” she wondered aloud. “Do they fly out of their pens?”
“You see, Blue.” Mother pointed to the wall, where Peep was bound again in pink satin sashes, her face streaked with tears, awaiting her third punishment in three days. “It appears no one can keep track of the sheep!”
“Perhaps our little sheep herders have been occupying themselves together, Mother,” Blue suggested, raising a dark eyebrow at her.
Mother smiled, narrowing her eyes. “Ah, perhaps.” She advanced toward Peep and the girl lowered her head even further. Mother had her stripped completely bare today, and she was nothing but creamy pink skin and honey-colored hair.
“Is this true, Peep?” Mother asked quietly. “Have you and Tom been occupying yourselves together while my sheep run willy-nilly through town?”
“Leave her alone!” Tom hissed at her over his shoulder as Blue moved to restrain the young man.
Mother raised her eyebrows and met Blue’s gaze. “Ah, I see.” She pressed the young man between herself and Blue as she leaned in to whisper something into Blue’s ear. He nodded, smiling, and picked Tom up under the arm, dragging him toward where Peep was kneeling.
“I don’t think satin ribbons will keep this one, Mother,” Blue remarked, reaching for a manacle attached to a chain hooked into the wall. Tom struggled as Blue snapped the first one around his wrist, but the bigger man held him fast, grabbing the other arm and locking the other manacle. Tom strained against the chains, but he couldn’t go any further than a few feet from the wall, his arms above his head.
Mother moved toward him, her heels clicking on the stone floor and her lace peignoir shifting around her thighs as she advanced. Tom glared at her, but she smiled at him, shaking her head. “There’s a fire in this one, Blue. Now I remember why I acquired him.”
“He’s got spunk,” Blue agreed, folding his arms and watching Mother as she began to unbutton the young man’s shirt.
“I bet he does.” Mother chuckled, reaching into Tom’s breeches. He gasped as she squeezed his testicles, tugging and twisting them slightly. “The harness, please, Blue,” she murmured, feeling Tom’s cock growing in her hand in spite of the resentment in his eyes. “Oh, my… the big one.”
Blue grinned, going over to the cabinet and opening it. Peep watched him through the cascade of her hair, whimpering. He patted her on the head as he passed back, carrying something that looked like a bunch of leather straps.
“Do whatever you want to me,” Tom said as Mother began removing his breeches. She left his shirt on but open. “Just leave Peep alone.”
Mother took the harness from Blue, shaking her head at the young man. “Yes, I will do whatever I want to you,” she said softly, kneeling to inspect him. Peep had raised her head and was watching closely as Mother stroked Tom’s cock. “And to our Little Bo Peep, as well.”
Tom struggled against his bonds, his face reddening almost as much as his stiffening member.
Mother smiled up at him, and then glanced over at Peep, who was licking her little lips as she watched. “You see, she likes it, Tom,” Mother explained, pressing his cock up against his hard, flat belly, rubbing it there as she fondled his balls with her other hand and began to fasten the leather straps around them. “She likes it a great deal—and not just with you, believe me, dearie!”
Tom glanced over at the girl, but her head was lowered again, her hair hiding her face. Mother continued to work the leather around his cock, tightening it around his testicles and the base of his shaft. She buckled the straps, murmuring to herself, “One, two, let’s buckle you…” Mother admired her handiwork, seeing him standing straight up and out. Tom looked down at her, his eyes wide as she smiled up at him and planted a kiss on the tip of him before standing.
“What do you think, Blue?” Mother looked over at the big man standing by, watching.
“Should hold him for a while.” Blue nodded with a smile.
“Let’s find out, shall we?” Mother’s eyes were bright as she stood, walking over to where Peep knelt, her head bowed so low her golden hair fell in a pool on the floor. The older woman leaned over and began to untie her. Peep didn’t make a peep—she stayed just that way, with her hands behind her back, as if she were still restrained.
“Ah, you are such a good girl,” Mother remarked, stroking Peep’s back with her hand. “A faster learner. Up, pet.”
Mother twined her hand in Peep’s hair and she stood, her hands still tucked behind her back. “You know you aren’t allowed to fraternize,” Mother admonished her, leaning in close enough Peep could smell the mint tea on her breath.
“I’m sorry, Mother,” Peep whispered, swallowing hard. She felt tears stinging her eyes again. “It was just—”
Mother raised an eyebrow. “Oh, this should be good. What was it just, darling?”
Peep looked over at Tom, who was watching them both with darkening eyes.
“Nothing, Mother,” Peep whispered. “It was nothing.”
Mother smiled, turning to Tom and bringing Peep along with her, this time grabbing her by the wrist. “You see, Tom, it was nothing. She said so herself.”
“I don’t believe it,” Tom replied, his eyes blazing. Mother eyed them both and then forced the young girl to her knees in front of him.
“You can believe whatever you like, precious,” she told him, petting Peep’s hair. “But she does my bidding—and so do you. Isn’t that right, pet?”
“Yes, Mother,” Peep whispered, her eyes turned up to them both.
“Who is your mistress?” Mother asked, stroking Peep’s cheek.
“You are, Mother.”
“Who loves you?” she asked, rubbing her fingers over the girl’s soft lips.
“You do, Mother.”
“Who gives you more pleasure than you ever knew possible?”
Peep closed her eyes for a moment, her nostrils flaring at the memory. “You do, Mother.”
The older woman smiled, her eyes soft as she reached to tweak Peep’s hard pink nipple. “Yes, that’s my good girl.” Mother turned her eyes to Tom, and they hardened as she saw his jaw working, his fists clenched.
“You will say the same, before the day is out, dear Tom,” Mother told him, her eyes roaming over the muscles in his chest straining against his bonds.
“Never,” he spat.
Mother laughed, the sound light and delighted. “Hickory, dickory dock,” Mother murmured. “Now you shall suck his cock,” she instructed the girl, pushing her head toward Tom’s engorged member. It was still incredibly hard, the leather straps keeping the blood flow restricted.
Peep began by licking the head, her tongue working around and around. She kept her hands on her thighs, using just her lips and mouth on him, taking him in a bit at a time, wetting him with her saliva. Mother watched, her eyes flickering from Tom’s face, which was beginning to belie his pleasure, to Peep’s, the girl looking adoringly up at him as if she were worshipping his member.
Mother glanced over at Blue, who was watching them both as well, his eyes moving with the motion of Peep’s head over Tom’s cock. She smiled, sidling over to him and pressing into his side.
“Isn’t it a lovely show?” Mother whispered. Tom was moaning now, thrusting into Peep’s waiting, willing mouth.
Blue nodded, his eyes never moving from them. “Yes, Mother.”
She leaned in to his ear. “Mmmmmm Blue,” she purred, her hand sliding down the front of him, finding out just how hard he was. “You need someone to blow that horn.”
He smiled, a slow, lopsided thing, his eyes flicking down to her face and then back to the action, Peep choking and gagging on Tom’s cock now, tears coming out of the corners of her eyes, and still she took him, over and over. The young man was up on his toes, trying to get as much of himself into her as he could, and Mother heard his moans of pleasure mixed with a hint of frustration.
“I would never refuse you, Mother.” Blue’s eyes fell from hers to her breasts, pressed up in her black corset.
“I’ll be right back,” she said with a wink, moving toward Peep and Tom. She knelt down next to the girl for a moment, watching her trying to swallow him, her cheeks bulging, saliva running down her chin. Mother’s eyes were bright and shining as she touched Peep’s shoulder, pulling her back.
“Very nice, darling.” She praised the girl, who looked at her with dazed eyes. Mother looked at Tom’s cock, a bright, angry, throbbing red, pulsing with his blood. The young man was panting, sweating, his muscles tight and hard. Mother stood and backed him against the wall with her body, putting her knee between his thighs, her lips inches from his.
“You see, Tom,” Mother explained, feeling his ragged breath against her face. “These lovely leather straps?” She gave them a tug and he groaned, bucking against her, his eyes closing. “They won’t let you come. You can stay hard practically forever… until I decide it’s time for you to finish.”
Tom’s eyes flew open and he stared at her, aghast. She smiled at his final understanding and patted his cheek with her hand.
“Did you fuck my little Peep?” Mother asked him, pulling the straps again. He grunted and shuddered. “Answer me, dear.”
“Yes,” he moaned as she began to move her hand over his shaft, still slick with Peep’s saliva.
“Well, then, you shall fuck her again,” Mother said, pursing her lips. “For my pleasure, this time.”
Mother helped Peep to stand, her hands roaming over the girl’s body, cupping her breasts and slipping down her smooth, flat tummy to probe through the soft, downy hair between her thighs. “Oh, my,” Mother exclaimed, her fingers pushing in deeper. “You are so very wet. Did you like that big, hard cock in you?”
Peep nodded, her eyes downcast. “Yes, Mother,” she whispered.
“Do you want it inside of you now?” the older woman asked, making Peep rock with the motion of her hand between her legs.
“Ohhh,” Peep moaned, leaning her forehead against Mother’s shoulder as the woman fingered her. “Oh yes, Mother…please.”
Mother removed her fingers, lifting the glistening digits to Tom’s mouth and spreading the wetness over his lips. “That’s honey,” she murmured. “From my little honeybee.” She watched as Tom sucked her fingers, feeling an ache between her own legs as he did.
“She’s a good little worker,” Mother murmured, edging Peep back, closer and closer to Tom. “And she’s going to work your cock until you can’t stand it. Are you ready, Tom?”
He moaned in response as Mother took his cock in her hand, bending Peep over with the other and aiming him at her pink little hole from behind. Mother rubbed him all over her wetness, teasing Peep’s clit with the tip. She whimpered, wiggling her hips back and forth.
“Slide on,” Mother told Peep, watching as the girl edged back, pressing Tom into the wall as she impaled herself on his stiff member. Tom groaned as she began to move her hips, grinding back into him, working the length of his shaft along her soft, velvet walls.
“Oh, that’s lovely,” Mother whispered, her hand slipping between her legs as she watched them, her pussy a dark, glistening treasure. “Now, don’t you stop, pet. Not until I say. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Mother,” Peep panted, her eyes half closed and her mouth a little “o” as she bent herself in half, her hands on her knees as she worked her hips against Tom.
Mother slipped her peignoir off her shoulders, turning to where Blue was still standing, watching them all. His gaze followed her as she approached, dipping down her corset, over her garters and fishnets and boots, and back up again to where her fingers lingered in the darkness between her thighs.
“Let’s see what you have for Mother,” she whispered as she knelt before him and undid his breeches. Blue threw his head back as she took him into her hand, and then into her mouth, her tongue deft, her fingers skilled, pulling the skin back and taking him all without a hint or a sign of difficulty.
Mother’s fingers worked between her legs as she sucked him, rubbing circles against her clit as she watched Peep and Tom out of the corner of her eye. The young girl moaned as she fucked him, pinching her rosy nipples and reaching to rub her clit. She was the vision of a wanton little glutton, using his cock between her legs, riding him to greater and greater heights.
Mother smiled up at Blue as his pre-cum began to flow, and she saw him watching them, too. Peep’s cries of pleasure were like the mews of a tiny kitten, plaintive and tenderly vulnerable. Tom groaned, his head bowed in defeat, submitting to the fucking he was getting like a good boy, Mother noticed, his noises caught somewhere between pleasure and pain, exactly where they should be.
“Fuck me, Blue,” Mother murmured, standing up and lifting her leg, wrapping it around him. “But don’t come. I want you to save that for Peep.”
Blue groaned, whispering, “Thank you, Mother,” in her hair as he pressed her to the wall, driving his stiff cock deep inside of her. She turned her head so she could still see them both, Peep doing her stooped, sinuous dance, her hair whipping around as she tossed her head back.
“Harder, Blue,” Mother whispered, his cock a thick, bulging swell, filling her completely. He panted, thrusting into her with all of his force, rocking her into the wall. She lifted her other leg around him and he held her there with the weight of him, plunging through her flesh, making her moan and bite into his shoulder.
Peep shuddered, moaned, half-crying, her orgasm moving through her and making her press back hard against Tom. He moaned, too, low and long, and Mother saw, when Peep pulled forward, how hard and red his cock was. It was almost time.
“Oh, Blue,” Mother whispered, digging the heels of her boots into his back and rolling her hips in circles. He didn’t stop, but pressed forward, following her rhythm and then speeding it up, urging her on. “Oh god, yesssssssss,” she hissed, her climax a sweet burst of pleasure flooding over his cock in thick waves.
Peep’s motion was slow and easy now, still working Tom’s cock, but with less fervor. Mother shuddered and whispered into Blue’s ear, “Now you can have her.”
“Thank you, Mother.” Blue let her down gently, his cock still a rising staff as he pulled out of her. She wiped a bit of dark hair out of her eyes and then moved toward them, laying her hand on Peep’s lower back as she rolled her hips around and around. The girl looked up at her, questioning.
“Little Bo Peep,” Mother murmured, stroking the girl’s ass. Poor Tom’s cock was so red it was almost purple. She could see it sinking slowly in and out of Peep’s soft blonde curls. His head was down, his eyes closed. “This is Little Boy Blue.”
The man stepped around Mother, and Peep’s eyes widened at the sight of his member. “Little?” she choked.
Mother chuckled. “Once, he was,” she winked. “Be good to her, Blue.”
“Yes, Mother.” Blue watched the older woman ease Peep off of Tom. The girl stood looking up at Blue, trembling. Mother’s hand went to Tom’s cock, squeezing and rubbing it. He groaned, shaking his head from side to side.
“Come here, little one.” Blue ran his hands over Peep’s breasts. She followed him over to the bed, and Mother watched fondly as Blue bent her over the mattress, aiming his cock toward her wet, pink flesh. Peep squealed, spreading her legs wider as he began to fuck her, his hand gripping her hips.
“Now, Tom.” Mother turned back to the young man still chained to the wall. “Do we fall asleep on our watch?”
“No, Mother.” He shuddered as she eased her hand up and down over his flesh.
“Do we fraternize while we are working?” Mother reached down to find the leather straps.
“No, Mother.” He lifted his eyes to meet hers. Mother smiled, seeing something in them she liked. She unbuckled the strap around his shaft and he hissed and then groaned.
“Who is your mistress?” Mother rubbed the tip of his cock through the slick wetness between her legs.
“Oh, god,” he cried. “You are. You are, Mother.”
“Yes,” she whispered, easing forward a little and pressing him into her as she hooked one leg around him. She began moving on him, his cock still slick from Peep’s juices. She heard Peep mewling behind her, and Blue moaning with every thrust. The sound was gratifying and made her smile. Tom watched them over her shoulder, his face a mask of pain and fascination.
“She’s a beautiful girl.” Mother made circles with her hips, around and around. Tom gasped. “And she is mine.” Mother leaned in to whisper, “You are mine.” Tom’s hips were moving with her now, his cock an iron bar thrust up inside her.
“Yes, Mother,” he moaned. “Yes, yes.”
“Who loves you?” Mother reached down between them and undid the last buckle with one hand.
Tom shuddered, his eyes rolling back into his head. “Oh, please,” he murmured. “You do, Mother. You do.”
“That’s right,” she purred, squeezing all of her muscles around him. He grimaced and bit his lip. Behind them, they heard Peep and Blue making sounds like they were riding a tidal wave toward shore. Mother glanced behind her and saw Blue pounding into the girl, holding onto her hair for leverage. She moaned and thrust back against him.
“And who gives you more pleasure than you ever thought possible?” Mother rocked her hips back and forth now, shoving the tip of his cock up into her again and again. Mother heard Blue cry out his last bit of lustful release, and the sound filled her as Blue pumped his seed into the girl behind her.
“You do, Mother,” Tom groaned. “Oh my fucking god! Yes! You, Mother, it’s all for you!”
“Yes!” She let the last strap around his testicles loose and worked her hot, wet pussy on his cock. Tom’s eyes flew open for a moment and then snapped closed again as he finally came, the force of it making him buck forward into her, growling and grunting and thrusting with all of his might. It went on forever, it seemed, wave after glorious wave pulsing into Mother’s waiting pussy.
When he was spent, Mother undid each shackle, easing him down to the floor. He rested there, his back against the wall, panting and breathless, his head thrown back, his eyes closed. She looked behind her to see Peep sprawled out on the bed in the same dazed state.
Blue pulled up his breeches and walked toward her. “Is there anything more I can do for you, Mother?”
Mother smiled. “I think those sheep were into Mary’s garden again,” she said, touching Blue’s cheek. “You know how contrary she gets. Will you find out for me?”
“Yes, Mother.” Blue nodded and turned toward the door.
“Willie!” Mother called, waiting for the little man to appear. He did so just as Blue was departing. “We have another mess to clean up, I’m afraid.”
Chapter Three
Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary
Mary, Mary, quite contrary,
How does your garden grow?
With silver bells and cockleshells,
And pretty maids all in a row.
Mother was going to pay a visit. She pulled her long black gloves up past her elbows, glancing in the mirror for one last quick inspection. Her black corset, cinched tight, was worn over a sheer, white lace sleeveless bodice, and her skirt was long, sheer, layered lace as well, black over black. She wore her usual boots and stockings and garters underneath. Her dark hair was piled high on her head, and she turned and pinched her cheeks to add color to them, biting at her lips as well. It would have to do.
“Willie, did Blue get my coach?” she called out into the hallway. She heard the little man scurrying about somewhere but didn’t see him.
She heard a muffled, “Coming, Mother!” and he appeared out of a small door in the wall, not even waist high.
“Goodness, those little secret doors always surprise me.” Mother held her hand to her bare throat. “Did you hear me, darling?”
“Yes, Mother.” Willie nodded, bowing his usual stiff, formal way. “Blue is waiting in the courtyard for you.”
“How do I look?” Mother did a little twirl.
Willie smiled. “Father would be proud.”
Mother sighed. “Yes, well…Father is off adventuring somewhere, so Mother has to keep herself occupied, doesn’t she, doll?”
She patted the little man’s head as she passed. “Do you have the collars and bells?”
Willie nodded. “Of course, Mother.” He handed her three tiny collars, pink, yellow and red, all with bells attached. She admired them before tucking them into her bag.
“Well, I’m off, then. Don’t wait up!”
Blue was waiting in the courtyard, as promised.
Mother smiled and kissed his cheek. “Was Mary upset about the sheep?”
“I took Peep over myself, to make our apologies.” Blue’s eyes danced.
Mother raised an eyebrow and nodded. “And Tom?”
“You know Mistress Mary, Mother.” Blue helped her into the coach. “She loves the maidens—but the lads?”
Mother winked. “Well, I’m an equal opportunity employer, aren’t I, Blue?”
He kissed her gloved hand in response. “Indeed you are, Mother dear.”
Mother settled back into her seat and watched as the scenery trotted by. Her own estate was vast, stretching ever by in both directions. She saw the sheep, penned today, their wooly forms huddled and grazing together. Tom sat on the far fence, she noticed, his hat pulled down over his eyes, his bare feet swinging. She made a note of his leisure for later, and turned her face out the opposite window.
Ah, there were the berry bushes, hundreds of them, bearing lush, ripe fruit this time of year—strawberries, blueberries, raspberries—although the black mulberries were her favorites. She considered asking Blue to stop, dreaming for a moment of walking barefoot among the rows, picking berries and feeding them to her companion, but she thought better of it when she looked down at her attire and fingered the three little collars in her pocket. Another day.
They rounded a corner and went by the blacksmith, and Mother knew they were passing over the boundaries of her land. They crossed over the bridge, the wheels of the carriage rumbling over the ties, and she watched a couple rowing lazily on the lake. Mary’s garden began on the other side, taking up both sides of the road, rows of corn on the left and a field of golden wheat on the right. They were close now.
Mother sat forward, her heart leaping as Mary’s cottage came into view. Everyone called it the cottage—but it was five times the size of any structure normally called a “cottage.” Blue stopped the carriage, and she waited for him to open the door and offer his hand to her.
“Thank you, dearest.” She kissed his cheek as she stepped out. “Would you like to wander the gardens while I visit?”
He grinned. “I would dearly love to do that, Mother.”
She patted his hand. “Enjoy.” She went up the wide front steps and used the knocker on the front door. She was surprised when Mary answered, her green eyes flashing.
“Mother!” she exclaimed, leaning in to kiss next to the woman’s cheek. “I had hoped you would make it out today. I trust the drive was pleasant?”
“Your gardens are stunning.” Mother smiled, leaning in to kiss the air next to Mary’s cheek and breathing in the smell of the thick auburn hair tumbling down her back—cinnamon and roses. “As always.”
“You know the best is out back.” Mary gave her a wink over her shoulder as she led the way through the foyer, not letting go of Mother’s hand.
“Blue is back there, now.” Mother squeezed the woman’s small bare hand in her gloved one.
“Polly, put the kettle on!” Mary called toward the kitchen, offering Mother a seat on the settee. “Tea, Mother?”
“I’m parched.” Mother put her handbag next to her, watching Mary sink her hand into the bobbed hair of a young girl kneeling next to her chair. She was a small thing, her breasts barely buds, her big, dark eyes focused on the floor in front of her. Mother’s eyes fell between the girl’s legs, noting with a smile her hairless slit. Mary was fond of shaving her girls.
“Have you heard from Father?” Mary crossed one slender knee over the other, her silver, satiny skirt parting at the full front slit, from floor to crotch. Mother caught a glimpse of her curly red pubic hair and smiled—fond of shaving the girls, but never herself.
“No.” Mother sighed. “He crossed over two months ago, and I haven’t heard a word since. Except for those three horrid men in that tub of a boat, who said they saw him near the portal.”
“Oh, Polly!” Mary glanced up as a nude woman came in balancing the entire silver serving set on her head. “Must you do that? I have these visions—”
Polly took the tray down, setting it on the table in front of the two women. “I haven’t ever dropped one, Mistress Mary.”
Mary sighed, picking up the teapot and pouring. “Yes, sweet. I know. But there is always a first time for everything.”
“You wouldn’t want to get scalded, Polly,” Mother agreed, dropping sugar cubes into her tea. Mary drank hers black, but Mother preferred hers sweet and creamy.
“Thank you for your concern, Mother,” Mary replied, sipping her tea. “But Polly is quite proficient.”
Mother pursed her lips, nodding. “So, Mary, dearest—” She looked at the red-haired woman over the rim of her teacup. “About what I came for?”
Mary smiled, her eyes bright again. “Yes. Would you like to see them?”
“Out back, I presume?” Mother clutched her handbag and stood with Mary.
“They are still young yet,” Mary said as they made their way down several long corridors. “And I’m loathe to part with them, but goodness they are a great deal of work when they are grown. I just can’t keep them all.”
Mary opened the door to a screened-in sunroom, and Mother heard them crying plaintively in the wooden box in the corner. She squatted down next to the box, peering over the side.
“Oh, Mary!” Mother exclaimed, her voice soft. “Oh, aren’t they precious?”
“I know.” Mary knelt down, too, reaching her hand in and plucking one up by the scruff of the neck. The little kittengirl mewed pitifully, and Mary cuddled it to her breast, smoothing her fingers over the black velvety ears. Mother watched as the human-like face turned up toward Mary’s stroking fingers, rubbing her head against the woman’s hand again and again. The little kittengirl was purring now.
“How many did she have?” Mother glanced behind her at the full grown catwoman in the corner, stretched out on her side on the floor in the bright sunshine, her whiskers twitching, as if she were dreaming. She was a black and white beauty, her fur dark over her back and arms, white patches on all four of her padded paws, like little boots, and at the tip of her tail. Her belly was nearly bare, smooth and soft, her human-like breasts full with milk for her tiny sucklings.
“Fifteen, but there are only six left.” Mary handed Mother the little kitten-sized kittengirl. “The problem with breeding them is feeding them. She can’t feed her whole litter, so we have to pump the milk and feed them with droppers in shifts. Very time consuming.” Mary sighed, watching Mother as she dangled one of their string toys for the kittengirl, who batted at it playfully.
“They are weaned now?” Mother frowned as she looked at the catwoman’s full breasts.
“Oh, yes.” Mary plucked another from the box. She saw Mother’s eyes roaming over the black and white body of the kittens’ mother and she smiled. “I keep her breasts full now for my own reasons.”
“Ah.” Mother returned her smile, lifting the kittengirl high into the air. This one had tiger-like markings. “The Tom was obviously orange.”
“Yes,” Mary agreed. “So how many did you want?”
“Three.” Mother watched the little kittengirls climb all over each other in the box. They were tumbling together, mewling and jumping. “How can I choose?”
She finally made a decision, two girls and one boy. The girls were similar to their mother, one with markings almost exact, the other completely black except for a white patch at her throat. The boy was an orange tiger like his father.
“Will you breed them?” Mary asked, getting a separate crate and putting the three kittens inside, closing the lid. Their little paws reached out the slatted sides, and they tried to fit their heads through.
“Perhaps.” Mother let the little orange Tom latch into her finger with his claws.
“Are you hungry, Mistress Mary?”
Mother whirled at the delicate sound of the voice behind her, and saw the catwoman stretching, her claws extended. The woman was purring, a deep, rumbling sound.
“No, Puss.” Mary smiled, walking over to smooth the woman’s fur. “Go back to sleep.”
“Three more?” The catwoman sighed, looking at the smaller crate. She turned over onto her other side, curling up into a ball and closing her eyes again.
“She doesn’t mind?” Mother whispered.
Mary shook her head. “She doesn’t seem to.”
“I didn’t realize they could talk!” Mother said.
“They pick up human speech, just like children do.” Mary went to stand by the window. Mother followed her, leaning forward to breathe in the summer air, and spotted Blue out in the garden. She smiled as she saw him, turned away from her, his breeches down to his knees and his head thrown back as he rocked his hips.
“Your garden is growing, Mary!” Mother exclaimed. “Can we go down?”
“Of course, Mother.” Mary led the way out of the sunroom and down the back steps. They walked the cobblestone path toward Mary’s garden, row upon row of glorious blooms, all with their lovely faces turned up toward the sun.
“How many species do you have now?” Mother watched Blue’s back, hearing his moans.
“Oh goodness, I’d have to ask Polly.” Mary smiled. “There are forty kinds of roses alone—and many, many other species besides. We just transplanted the daffodils and I’ve been very tender with them, although that one looks like it’s serving Blue quite well.”
“Yes,” Mother breathed, moving forward along the path so she could see fully. The young daffodil’s delicate yellow center was bloomed wide open, revealing the human face inside, and Blue’s hard cock thrust happily into her open mouth. The dark green shoots of her leaves were wrapped around his calves and thighs, pulling him in. All around him, the other daffodils were watching, a few reaching their tender stalks far enough to lick his hip or thigh.
There were dozens of types of flowers—high, proud tulips, fields of daisies, the petunias with their bright velvet colors and striped faces, fat mums and delicate calla lilies, all basking in the sunshine, much larger than their non-human counterparts. The rose garden stretched to their left, a vast expanse of color. The sunflowers were along the back of the garden, near the wall, their faces rising high above the rest of the flowers.
“They really don’t mind?” Mother asked, her breath coming faster as she watched Blue’s face, his stiff, reddened member disappearing beneath the bright yellow hood of the flower. She had seen it before, but still, it held her spellbound.
“Remember, it is food to them,” Mary smiled. “They crave it. The roses are tricky, of course. The thorns. But there are ways.”
“Do they have preferences?” Mother asked, hearing Blue cry out and thrust into the daffodil’s center, shuddering. He collapsed back onto the cool lawn, staring dreamily up at the sky. “Male and female, I mean.”
“Oh, yes,” Mary nodded. “The daffodils love men, as you can see. I don’t keep many of those. The irises, though… they prefer women. Look, here.” Mary knelt, showing Mother the delicate face of an iris, the eyes such a bright blue they were nearly purple, reflecting her violet petals. The iris began licking Mary’s hand, her pink tongue lapping gently over her skin, sucking at the webbing between her fingers. Mother moaned softly as she watched.
“Would you like to try Violet?” Mary asked. “While I feed her sister?”
Mother watched as Mary parted her bright silver dress like a curtain in front, exposing her patch of red curls, moving to the iris next to the one she’d called Violet. This one had creamy white petals all around her face, her outer petals a darker blue. Violet looked longingly over as Mary spread her pussy, watching her creamy faced sister begin to lap at the folds of flesh.
“Come, Mother.” Mary nodded toward the envious Violet. “Come feed her.”
Mother watched as the blue iris bent her head forward, her green stalks wrapping around Mary’s creamy white thighs. Mary moaned, rolling her hips and sliding her hands up to cup her breasts. The Violet iris nuzzled Mother’s crotch, pulling at the lace material of her skirt.
Mother lifted her layers, exposing herself in the sunlight, and Violet sighed in delight, leaning in toward her. The petals around the iris’ face seemed to undulate against Mother’s belly and hips, softer than anything she’d ever felt. When a sweet, wet tongue probed its way between her lips, she moaned, feeling the soft prickle of the flower’s stalks moving around her legs.
The iris was much stronger than Mother would have imagined, pulling her in tightly and nuzzling her flesh with fervor. It truly felt as if the flower were feeding off of her, sucking and lapping at her slit, looking for more of her juices. Mother was happy to comply as the little tongue focused right against her clit, moving expertly over that spot again and again, as if the iris knew exactly what to do to make her pussy flow.
Mother looked over at Mary, moaning and writhing now in the grip of the dark blue iris, bucking her hips. The green of the stalks had moved underneath Mary’s dress and she saw them working over her breasts and nipples. Mother wished she had worn something less confining, but she cupped and rubbed her breasts through her blouse, moving against the incredible softness of Violet’s petals.
Mother heard Mary coming and glanced over, seeing her body shaking, quivering against the little flower’s face. Mother wasn’t going to be far behind—she felt her own orgasm approaching, and the violet beauty between her legs seemed to know it, flicking her tongue faster against Mother’s clit.
“Oh god!” Mother cried, her climax overtaking her. As she came, she felt the flower’s tongue snake deep inside of her, drinking her juices with a hungry mewling sound. Even when Mother had collapsed onto her back on the ground, the flower’s head stayed bent and bound to her pussy, the tongue buried deep inside, the petals undulating against her flesh.
A flushed Mary came over to help Mother stand, nudging the flower gently back. Violet’s face was glistening with Mother’s juices, her eyes glazed. She looked as sated as Mother felt.
“My goodness, Mary,” Mother murmured, reaching out to touch the face of the flower who had brought her such pleasure. The little tongue lapped at her, lazy now, but loving. “So many pretty maids, all in a row.”
“Next year, perhaps you’ll take some seedlings of your own.” Mary linked her arm with Mother’s as they walked back up the cobblestone path. Mother’s legs felt wobbly, and she was glad for the other woman’s support. She noticed Blue was gone from the lawn.
“Perhaps,” Mother murmured, looking back over her shoulder at the garden. “Although I think I will have my hands full for a while with those kittens.”
“Yes,” Mary agreed. “Now, about payment. Perhaps we can work something out. Peep is quite something.”
“Isn’t she just?” Mother smiled, squeezing Mary’s hand. “Yes, I think you can have my little pet for these adorable kittens. It’s a fair trade.”
Mother saw Blue in the kitchen, talking to Polly. “Besides, we have a visitor coming just this week. A little Miss Muffet. Between her and the kittens, I don’t know that I’d have time for poor little Peep.”
“That works out then,” Mary said happily, climbing the stairs and opening the back door.
“I don’t know why they call you contrary, Mary,” Mother whispered, kissing the woman on the cheek as she stepped up.
Mary turned her face toward Mother and returned her kiss, fully and deeply, on the lips. “It’s just the men,” Mary whispered. “Most don’t understand the ways of flowers.”
“Is that so?” Mother’s mouth curled into a smile.
“You will come back and visit me soon, won’t you, dearest?” Mary whispered, tracing a finger along Mother’s full lips.
Mother leaned in to kiss her again, and she thought Mary tasted just like a garden of flowers. “Yes, darling. I surely will.”
The two women continued into the house, arm in arm.
Chapter Four
The Queen of Hearts
The Queen of Hearts
She made some tarts
All on a summer's day…
“Willie, where is my red corset?” Mother called loudly, sweeping aside the clothes in her wardrobe as she began going through them again, one at a time.
“Is this it, Mother?” Muffy picked up a corset from a pile on the bed.
“Ah, there is it!” The nude woman made her way over to the young girl, slipping her fingers under her chin and petting her there with a smile. “Thank you, dearest.”
“Willie!” Mother called again, impatient, slipping into the corset and looking into the mirror as she adjusted it over her curves. “Where is he?”
“I can lace you, Mother,” Muffy offered, sliding off the big bed, her pink babydoll nightgown slipping up her thighs and revealing the newly shaved mound underneath.
Mother’s eyes lingered there for a moment and she smiled, turning and offering her back to the girl. “Thank you, darling.”
The girl’s hands were expert—she had done this often in the past month—pulling the older woman’s stays tight as she worked her way up. The corset left Mother’s full breasts as exposed as the dark triangle of hair was between her thighs.
“My stockings.” Mother sat on the bed while Muffy retrieved them from the drawer. The red fishnets slid up over her long, slim legs, and she stood to let the girl fasten the garters and straighten her seams.
“You don’t usually wear this color, Mother,” Muffy remarked, her little fingers working the last garter fastener.
“No,” Mother agreed, taking a long, white, see-through lace peignoir from her wardrobe and slipping it over her shoulders. She fastened the middle two buttons, and looked at herself in the mirror. Her dark nipples poked the fine lace, and her bush was visible when she walked. Perfect. “Have you seen my red boots?”
“No, Mother,” Muffy replied.
“Willie!” Mother called again, giving an exasperated sigh. “Where is he?”
“Are you going somewhere, Mother?” Muffy asked, still kneeling on the floor.
“We are, precious,” Mother said, patting the soft, blonde curls framing the girl’s pink cheeks. “And we are going to have to dress you, as well.”
“Me?” Muffy looked up with wide blue eyes.
The door burst open and Willie came in dragging one of Mother’s kittengirls by the scruff of her neck. She was clawing at him.
“I apologize, Mother,” the little man said, struggling with the hissing cat girl. He had a long, angry red scratch across his cheek. “Eve here lost her mittens again.”
“Tsk tsk,” Mother murmured, taking the cat girl from him and cradling her. The three kittens she had taken from Mary had grown as quickly as she said they would. This kittengirl was nearly taller than Willie now. She was more like a small child than a cat. “What am I going to do with you?”
The catgirl began to purr, nuzzling her soft black ears against Mother’s neck and chin, her rough kitty tongue licking the woman’s cheek.
“Willie, I need my red boots,” Mother explained, unhooking the kitten’s claws from her lace peignoir. “And we’ll need a red babydoll nightie for Muffy—but no panties. I want to show off her sweet little mound.”
The girl’s eyes were wide, her face crimson. “Wh—where are we going, Mother?”
“To visit the Queen of Hearts,” Mother said, her eyes bright. “We are going to have a wonderful afternoon, darling.”
“Yes, Mother.” Willie pulled a pair of tall red boots from Mother’s closet. “Shall I call Blue for the carriage?”
“Yes.” The woman smiled, taking the high-heeled boots and sliding one of them on. The catgirl stretched out on her back on the stone floor, exposing her human belly and budding breasts. “And Willie? Can you take Eve back to her siblings?”
The little man grasped the catgirl’s pink collar. She mewed, but followed him readily enough now. “Yes, Mother.”
* * * *
“Now, remember, Muffy,” Mother reminded her as the carriage pulled through the gates. “You curtsy for the Queen, just as I taught you. Remember always to call her ‘Your Majesty.’ And never, ever correct her if she says something, especially if it’s about a color.”
“Color?” Muffy’s smooth brow creased and her little nose wrinkled.
“Yes,” Mother remarked, pulling on her gloves. “The Queen has a rare form of color blindness—she can see red, and a few other variations, but not many.”
The carriage door opened, and Blue held his hand out, helping Mother down. There were many carriages parked already, the horses nickering and pawing the ground in the sunshine. They could hear music and the sound of laughter.
“Mother,” Muffy pleaded, leaning forward in her seat but not coming out of the carriage. “I cannot go out like this.”
“Nonsense!” Mother replied, nodding her head to Blue. “You are wearing far more than most will have on today. You’ll see. Come along, Muffy dear.”
Blue held his hand out for the girl, and she winced as her bare feet touched the gravel drive. The sheer red baby-doll nightgown didn’t come past her hips, and her tender pussy lips and round bottom were fully exposed as she followed Mother, wide-eyed, around a large stone wall and into the garden.
Muffy walked behind her and off to the side, the grass cool against her bare feet, following the click of Mother’s boot heels along the stone pathway. They stopped at another wooden gate, where a rather hulking young man sat on a three-legged stool.
“Pass?” he asked, holding out his hand. Mother opened her beaded red handbag and handed him a small, strange looking coin, something altogether unfamiliar to Muffy. He unlocked the gate and opened it. When it swung open, Mother heard the young girl gasp and she smiled.
“Stay close to Mother, dear,” she warned, as the gate closed behind them. The large enclosed patio was surrounded by thick-growing red rose bushes. The air was redolent with the smell of them. The vendors circled the patio, their wares or games on display.
“It’s a carnival!” Muffy exclaimed, clapping her hands. Everything was red—the vendors’ tents, the deep brick stone tiles that made up the patio floor, the archway covered in roses, even the people milling around talking, laughing, dancing—they all wore red and white, when they wore anything at all.
“Of sorts,” Mother chuckled. Beside them, a finely coiffed young woman wearing nothing but a smile led a small dog-faced boy on a collar and leash. He barked at Muffy, and she shrank behind Mother with wide eyes.