In the silence of Gina’s office, her fingertips whispered up and down the black pantyhose the junior associate was wearing. “You love this, don’t you, Mark?” she asked.
As Gina’s hand moved from his legs to his cock, Mark breathed in sharply. Sitting in her office chair, wearing only sheer-to-waist coffee hose and a pair of open-toe heels herself, it pleased Gina to see his young dick strain against the material.
“Yes,” he said through the nylon stocking that was pulled over his head.
The office’s blinds were closed, so no one on the darkening streets of Arclight, Massachusetts would know what went on in one of the town’s more prestigious boutique law firms, or be able to see how one of its successful attorneys was using the hired help for her pleasure.
Hard to believe it had only been three weeks since Gina had went into a local store, “The Silken”, to get out of the rain. It was then that Cheryl, the young Korean woman that had been working there, had given her a pair of special pantyhose.
At the time, Gina had thought it simple kindness. After all, the hose that Gina had on had been soaked in the rain, and had a run in them.
It had turned out that Cheryl’s gift of the black, sheer-to-waist pantyhose with the gold thread at the seam was the ultimate act of kindness. Those hose changed the wearer. Enslaved her. Or him, as Gina would later find out with Mark. They would work by simply wearing them on your legs, if given enough time. But they would work much faster if they were pulled over the victim’s head so that the hose’s power could more quickly reach the future slave’s mind. An orgasm while the subject was wearing the special nylon would bind them to what Gina now thought of, in honor of the store where she’d found her destiny, as The Silken: the ever-growing family of pantyhose-encased slaves in the wealthy, liberal town of Arclight.
Gina’s hand gripped Mark’s shaft now through the pantyhose that covered it. Mark groaned, and this pleased Gina. She began to run the fingers of her free hand along her hose-covered slit. “You love wearing your nylon mask, too, don’t you, Mark?”
“Yes, I do,” he said. In the office’s dim light, Gina saw pre-cum on his hose.
“I know you do, Mark. You see, wearing a pantyhose mask is a sign of your submission to me.”
“Yes, Mistress. I love it.”
Gina began fingering herself harder through her nylons. There was just something about being called “Mistress.” She was finding that anyone that had enslaved another was that person’s master or Mistress. In that way, Cheryl was Gina’s Mistress; Cheryl’s mother was Cheryl’s Mistress.
As near as Gina could tell, Cheryl’s mother was the one behind it all, the woman who had created the gold-threaded hose, sold them at her high-end hosiery boutique, and so enslaving (or was it liberating?) one-by-one to the good citizens of Arclight. Cheryl’s mother was thus the true Mistress to them all.
Still, while Cheryl’s mother may be the one all The Silken worshiped, there was something uniquely intimate in being someone’s personal Mistress, hearing them say that powerful word in reference to her. Gina had realized that she wanted to hear her daughter Laura call her “Mistress” as well, just like Cheryl did with her own mother.
The past few weeks had been practice for Laura’s seduction. She considered this as she kept stroking Mark’s cock.
“Does this cock want to cum, Mark?”
“Yes, Mistress. It wants to cum so bad.”
“Not yet, Mark,” Gina said, smiling. “You have to be good while I stroke this nice, big, nylon-clad dick of yours. I don’t want you making a spermy mess in your hose just yet.”
There was no gold thread shooting through the nylon seam that covered the dick Gina now toyed with, nor through the pantyhose Mark wore over his face. No need for the special hose now. The handsome, late-twenties attorney had been hers for a while now.
Gina still remembered Cheryl giving her several pairs of the special hose two weeks earlier.
“Do you have any queen-plus sizes,” Gina had asked, looking at the packaging’s size labels.
Cheryl had been dressed only in a pair of suntan hose herself, her cunt sobbing wet from Gina licking it mere moments before. Cheryl had asked, “Won’t those be a bit big for your daughter? I remember that picture you showed me. She’s just a younger version of her mother.”
Gina knew how thin and pretty her daughter was, and appreciated the flattering compliment Cheryl had just paid her.
“Our relationship has gotten bad since my husband died. That’s why I want Laura’s seduction to be perfect. Practice makes perfect, doesn’t it?” Gina had said. “There’s a tall, muscled junior associate in my office that I’ve seen looking at my legs ever since he was hired last year. I think his legs would look wonderful in hose. I know they’d feel wonderful rubbing against mine.”
Even through the nylon slave mask she had on, Gina had seen the look of concern on Cheryl’s face. “If he’s that strong, you may need help getting the hose on him.”
“No, I think seducing a man will be easier than taking a woman.”
“How?” Cheryl had asked.
“I know he wants to fuck me. I’ll just get him hot one night after work, then tell him I’m a pervert and only like being fucked by men in hose. I was married to a wonderful man. I know guys. They’ll do anything for sex.,” Gina had explained.
Gina’s heart beat faster seeing Cheryl’s smile. “I knew you were going to be a natural at this.”
Mark, of course, hadn’t known any of this when, a day later, Gina had asked him to stay late at the office. “I need to get ready for deposition next week, and could use the help,” Gina had told him.
“Sure, I’d love to stay late and help you with whatever you need,” he had said, not even caring about the suggestiveness of his comment. He was an attractive guy, and even if Gina was a little older, she was hot. She had nice legs, a great ass. But they’d worked late nights together before, and nothing had happened then. It reasoned that nothing would happen again, Mark had figured, other than flirting.
She’d contacted him over the office intercom that night only after everyone else had gone home for the night. “Can you come to my office? I’m ready to get started.”
“Be right there,” Mark had said.
When he had entered her office, Gina had been sitting on her desk, legs crossed. “Hi,” she’d said.
Sitting like that, suddenly Mark hadn’t been sure if there was more than flirting on the agenda that night.
He’d liked the job with the firm and didn’t want to lose it. His sister worked for the firm, and he didn’t want to endanger her job either.
On the other hand, he told himself, how often doesn’t one get to fuck the boss? Worse case scenario he had to leave, but she had to write a glowing reference to avoid a sexual harassment claim. Best case, they’d start something semi-regular, and he could get his rocks off at the office from time-to-time.
Either way, it wouldn’t be a lifetime commitment or involuntary servitude, and however it ended, he’d be okay. He’d decided to see how far this would go, and closed the door. “Hi yourself.”
“Are you ready to get started on that deposition?”
He looked her straight in the eye. She had been wearing more eye-liner than usual, heightening her exoticism. “I’ll do anything you want me to do.”
“Soon enough,” she’d said. “First, we need to talk about something else: I’ve been noticing you looking at my legs a lot.”
That had embarrassed Mark. Being a lawyer, he’d tried to obfuscate the issue. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Don’t play dumb, Mark. I’ve seen you looking at me. All the time. I didn’t ask you here for a sexual harassment seminar. I just want to know why.” If she’d noticed him looking, then she knew the answer. Mark had always been so confident in court, but now felt awkwardly boyish. He was handsome, had slept with a lot of women, but at his core, he remembered how he’d been as a kid, getting into his mom’s hosiery drawer. He’d still felt shame about it, had spent a lifetime erecting an edifice of cool success to hide the embarrassed child within. “You just have nice legs,” he’d said.
“Do you like my stockings? I find a lot of men’s eyes linger whenever a woman is wearing pantyhose.”
“Yes,” Mark had confessed, looking at the floor. “It’s okay, Mark,” she’s said, crossing then re-crossing her legs. “I wear pantyhose because I like the attention. More specifically, I like your attention.”
Mark had looked up. “What do you mean?”
“I mean come over here.” He had walked over to her, and she had taken his hand, placed it on her legs. “It’s better to feel than just to look, isn’t it, Mark?” she’d asked.
Mark had gone flush. “Yes.”
“Kiss me.”
Mark had, rubbing her legs harder as he did. Feeling the material, and her hot tongue in his mouth, Mark’s dick had felt hard enough to cut glass.
Eventually, Gina had broken the kiss and stood up. Turning her back to him, she had bent slightly over her desk. “Can you help me with my skirt?”
Mark had unfastened the hook, then slid down the zipper. Gina’s skirt had fallen around her spiked heels, exposing her nylon-clad ass. The seam of her hose had run perfectly down her crack, as though they had been machined to her body.
“You’re not wearing any underwear?” he’d asked dumbly.
“Don’t you like how I look in nylon without any ugly cotton obstructing the view?” she’s said, wiggling her pantyhose ass at him.
“God, yes,” Mark had said. Then, staring at her nylon-encased lower body, he saw that the seam of her hose was torn. Right at her crotch. Christ, he was going to fuck a senior associate through her pantyhose! She wanted it, the fucking slut!
Mark had begun fumbling with his zipper, pulled his erect cock out, but Gina had turned to him. “Not yet.”
“What? Why?”
“You’re not dressed appropriately,” she had explained. Her purse had been on her desk. Mark watched as she pulled what to him looked like an overly-large pair of hose. “Put these on.”
He had looked at her. “Are you serious?”
“Do you want to fuck me or not? Judging by your dick, you do, but there’s an entrance fee. I only want a real pervert, otherwise I’ll be bored. Prove you’re worthy.” She had drawn close to him, rubbed the pantyhose she held against his cock. “You like looking at them, you like touching them. You’ll love wearing them. I promise. Put them on, bitch.”
The nylon against his dick, the sensation was amazing.
“Okay,” he’d quickly said.
He had taken the hose from her, and quickly unbuttoned his shirt. Kicking off his shoes, he’d unbuckled his belt, taken off his boxers, pants, and socks.
Gina had begun unbuttoning her blouse. It had slipped to the floor, and Mark had seen that she wasn’t wearing a bra, but that her hose were simply so big she had pulled them up over her tits.
“Go on, Markie. Get dressed for me,” she had said.
Naked, he’d sat on the leather couch, looked at the hose for a second. He’d noticed a gold thread at the seam only because it stood out against the coffee-hue of the hose, but didn’t think anything of it. Then he’d bunched one leg of the hose up at his foot before pulling it up to his thigh.
It had felt good, being encased. Then he began pulling the hose up his other leg.
“You put those on like you’ve done it before,” Gina had said with a laugh.
Mark hadn’t said anything to her playful comment. The truth was, he had tried on his mother’s pantyhose as a boy. A few times, in fact.
He’d liked the feeling then, to his eternal shame, having his bare penis rubbing against the hose where his mother’s pussy had been. Pulling the nylons up over his dick and ass in front of Gina, it felt like a homecoming.
Mark had stood then, showing off his shaft through the nylon.
“Mmmmm, you look good,” Gina had said. “How do you feel?”
“Good. Amazing, actually.” He’d been surprised how powerful the hose made him feel. The hose felt incredible against his skin, firmly encasing him. Almost as they were gently guiding him. He hadn’t ever felt so sexual in his entire life.
“One more thing and your outfit will be complete,” Gina had said, taking another pair of the hose from her purse.
“What are those for?”
“Your head. Wear it like you’re a robber. You can pretend like you’re raping me,” she’d said.
By then, it had felt like if anyone even breathed hard on his dick he’d cum. Mark had been surprised he didn’t explode in his hose as he did as Gina directed.
These hose had matched the ones on his legs, right down to the golden thread worming its way through the center seam. He’d quickly pulled them over his face, and sighed pleasantly.
“Do you like your pantyhose mask, Mark?” Gina had said, stroking his dick.
Mark hadn’t understood, but it felt great having the hose over his head. “Yes.”
“What’s it feel like?”
It had been hard for him to explain. It was like a woman’s fingers running through his hair, and then into his mind, massaging any self-disgust or doubt away. The fact he’d worn pantyhose as a boy, and that the first time he’d ever cum had been in them, wasn’t something to be ashamed of, but the most natural thing in the world.
“I just feel... like I belong here,” he’d said.
“No. You belong inside me.” With that, Gina had guided him back to the couch.
She’d pressed him down onto it, then pulled the waistband of his hose down freeing his cock. Squatting above him, she’d impaled his dick through her hose’s torn seam, and into her yearning cunt.
Mark had yelled, feeling her tight, slick wetness encase him. “Oh, fuck!”
She’d begun riding him, placing her hands on either side of his pantyhose mask, as if afraid he’d tear it off.
She needn’t have worried. Of all the women he’d ever fucked, none had made him feel like this. He had wondered if the mask was slightly cutting off his oxygen, making him feel high.
Was he in danger? He’d suddenly felt like this had all gone too perfectly, like this was all some kind of a trap Gina had laid for him.
Except she was a woman, he a man. He could take anything she threw at him if it were some kind of trap. Besides, it just felt so fucking good.
“Tell me what you’re thinking, Markie,” Gina had commanded between thrusts.
Mark had been going to pick up on the robber-rape scene Gina had suggested when she’d handed him the pantyhose mask, but something else had suddenly asserted itself.
It had been somewhat like he’d felt when he first put on the mask, massaging away his shame. If there’s nothing to be ashamed of, why not tell her? Mark thought.
“I’m thinking about when I was growing-up. No one was home, and I tried on some of my mother’s pantyhose,” Mark had said, so turned on by the memory he’d licked the inside of his mask after uttering it.
Gina had kept jamming herself on him. “I like that, Markie. Tell me more. What else do you remember about that? Think hard.”
He’d been about to tell her how he jagged off on the hose, watched fascinated as the seed from his first orgasm strained through the nylon.
Except whatever had been massaging his thoughts had seemed to be molding them, and he remembered something that didn’t actually happen. Or did it?
The feeling of Gina on his shaft, of the pantyhose on his body, and now in his mind, Mark hadn’t been able to stop from telling her what he was thinking.
“My mother,” Mark began uncertainly, “she walked in while I had the hose on.”
Her sweat had been falling onto his bare chest, her hose slick against his. “What did you do? I need details.”
“I tried to hide,” Mark had said, the memory rooting itself deeper into him, “but she found me in the closet. She told me to come out.”
“What did she do when she found her naughty, nylon boy, Markie?”
“She told me that I hadn’t done anything wrong, and led me by the hand from the closet. She sat me on her bed. I wanted to get something to throw over myself. My boner was so big in my hose, even after she found me, and I was embarrassed.”
“What happened then?” Gina’s manicured hands had moved from Mark’s nylon-stockinged head to her nipples, and she twisted them like stubborn bottle-tops as she continued ramming Mark into her.
“She had just gotten home from work and was still in her suit. She was wearing black pantyhose. She said she liked pantyhose, too, that it was a family trait. Then she lifted her skirt to show me how much she liked them, and I saw that she wasn’t wearing panties.”
“Oh God, Mark, tell me more!”
Mark had been speaking compulsively, the memory fully created by his slave-mask: “Mommy said that since I liked her hose so much, maybe I’d like to touch them while she was wearing them. I did and it felt so good and I was getting so hard. Mommy pulled down my hose, grabbed by dicky. With her free hand, she popped a hole in the crotch of her hose, then positioned me on top of her.”
“What did you do when you were on top of your mommy?”
“Her legs locked around my pantyhose-covered ass, and she guided my dicky into her. And... and I was fucking my mommy,” Mark had shouted through his nylon mask, “I was fucking my mommy right through her pantyhose and she was telling me how much she liked it, and I came, my young cum shooting into her mommy-cunt, and... oh fucking Christ, I can’t hold it!!!
His cum load had shot into Gina’s pussy as she had kept riding him, using her quim to milk his seed. Gina had watched through his mask as Mark’s eyes fluttered, rolled back into his head, his orgasm so intense he’d passed out.
And Gina had looked at him, The Silken’s newest member, her first victim, and the first man whose cum she’d had since her husband passed away. She’d felt so alive. And now that Mark’s memories had been rewritten to think he’d done something so perverted as having pantyhose sex with his mother, why, he’d be capable of anything.
Especially making other pantyhose slaves.
With Mark a slave the past several weeks, work had become a joy. Gina still worked as hard as ever. Even as a slave, there were still bills to pay, the most important being to provide for her fifteen-year-old daughter. It was good, though, to have something to look forward to at the end of the day. In this case, it was having a man ten years her junior fucking her through her hose, while yelling that she was his Mistress as his cock pumped its seed into her womb.
“Oh fuck,” Gina whispered now, still working her pussy while playing with Mark’s dick. She was close to orgasm.
“Mistress, can I cum, please?” Mark begged, still standing straight as a soldier, with his dick sticking out like a flagpole off a Manhattan skyscraper.
“Soon, darling, soon.”
Just then, the door to Gina’s office opened.
Anyone walking in at that moment would have been in for quite a sight. A beautiful, late-thirties Asian woman, lithe and tone, wearing only a pair of coffee-colored pantyhose and high heels. Her dress crumpled on the floor, her legs spread wide while rubbing her pantyhose pussy with her left hand, her right on the stiff, thick cock of an athletically-built man who was wearing black pantyhose, with a matching pair pulled over his head to make a mask.
It was an image that would have left someone in shock.
Unless, they had already been taken by The Silken.
From her chair, more a throne now, Gina regarded the twenty-two-year-old woman now entering.
“Mistress,” the girl said simply through her pantyhose mask, her long blonde hair spilling out from underneath it.
The girl was wearing a simple wool skirt which she shed after she closed the office door behind her. With the skirt on the floor, one could see her shaved pussy through the sheer black pantyhose. Next, she pulled off her sweater, and unbuttoned the blue shirt underneath. Both fell to the floor silently, and the girl stood nearly totally revealed. She was about 5’ 6” with an athletic build at her arms and legs, which seemed somewhat incongruous with the soft heaviness of her breasts which poured out when she unhooked her black lace bra, and let it too fall to the floor.
“Amy, you look lovely this evening. So glad you could stay late again.”
“I’m always happy to put in long hours for you,” Amy said as she approached Gina and Mark wearing nothing but the hose on her face and legs, and a pair of black, high heeled boots.
“And look at you,” Gina continued, “wearing your black pantyhose. The same kind, I see, that your brother here is wearing.”
The problem was that like anything good, you can’t stop at just one. Gina certainly couldn’t. Enslaving was addicting.
A week after Mark’s capitulation to her and The Silken, Gina had found herself wanting another slave.
She could have attempted her seduction of her daughter then, but Gina didn’t think herself ready. Her daughter would be a masterpiece. She had decided to continue practicing.
Who to enslave? Her law firm had quite a few handsome male attorneys, some younger than her, some older. It also had some very pretty female attorneys to choose from. There was even more selection in the office’s administrative staff. Mostly women Gina’s age or younger, even before Gina had been made a bisexual, nylon-loving slut, she’d often thought her firm had an unusually high percentage of attractive women working as secretaries and paralegals.
The answer came to her one night late at the office when Mark had shed his suit to reveal his hose underneath, and Gina had sucked his cock until he’d cum through the nylon. Mark’s sister Amy had just graduated Boston University last spring. With the economy in recession and law school becoming more competitive, Amy had decided to take a year off to get a job, shore-up her finances, and hopefully get some legal experience to burnish her law school application.
Mark had been such a hard worker that the firm had given Amy a job as Gina’s secretary. And, like-brother-like-sister, she had made a great addition to the office.
A week ago, Gina had commanded Mark that he would help her enslave his sister. “Do I see your dick getting harder at the thought of that?” Gina had asked him as she watched it through Mark’s hose.
“You do, Mistress,” Mark had said simply.
“You know I’m going to fuck your sister,” she had said.
“Christ, yes,” Mark had said, grabbing his dick and rubbing it against his hose.
“You’re going to fuck her too,” Gina had said, and watched as Mark had cum in his pantyhose.
Three nights later, Gina had asked Amy to work late. A dutiful employee, Amy had agreed. And then, while she’d been drafting letters for Gina, her brother, wearing nothing but his hose and slave mask, had come up behind her.
“What the fuck?” Amy had screamed as Mark had grabbed her. “Mark, what are you doing?”
Mark had said nothing as he wrestled Amy from her cubicle, and towards Gina’s office.
Amy hadn’t any idea what was going on, why Mark was doing this. Yet somehow she knew that if she allowed herself to be taken into Gina’s office, something terrible would befall her. No stranger to the gym, she started throwing her elbows into Mark’s abdomen while throwing up her legs at the door jamb to keep him from taking her in.
To Amy’s disgust, she had felt her brother’s dick become harder beneath his pantyhose the more she resisted. “Jesus Christ, why are you doing this?” she pleaded.
“Because she commanded me to. Because I want to see you covered in hose, just like me. And because the truth is, I’ve always wanted to fuck you, baby sister,” Mark had said as he threw his greater strength and weight into it, and tossed Amy through the door.
Amy had fallen to the carpeted floor inside, and immediately heard Mark closing the door behind him as he entered. I’m trapped, she had thought. Amy had quickly looked up to see if there was any escape. That’s when she had seen Gina.
Her boss, the kind woman that Amy had known and come to trust the last few months, the one that her brother had talked about as one of the smartest, but kindest, attorneys in the state. That Gina wasn’t here anymore. In her place was this woman who had been waiting for Mark to bring Amy to her. This Gina was wearing only sheer-to-waist, navy-colored pantyhose, and looked on Amy with a terrifying mixture of contempt and desire.
“Be honest: do you like what I did to your brother?” Gina had said while her hands played with a pair of pantyhose, perfectly black except for a golden thread which Amy noticed spindling down the hose’s center-seam.
“You did this to him?” Amy had yelled. “Why?”
“Because it just feels so fucking good,” Gina had said. “You’ll find out about that soon enough. Mark? Would you mind?”
Amy immediately had felt Mark fall upon her, his forearm against the back of her neck, forcing Amy’s back down onto the floor.
“No!” Amy had screamed.
“I love hearing you say that, sis,” Mark had said through his hose-mask.
“Pity we won’t be hearing it much longer once she’s one of us,” Gina had said as she dropped to her knees. Once on the floor, Gina took the special pantyhose that she had in her hands, and fitted them over Amy’s head. “It’s shouldn’t be too long, now.”
With the gold-threaded hose on her, Amy felt an immediate difference. There was something in her mind, a certain pressure, that now seemed to be gently guiding her.
It was in her memories, Amy realized, and seemed to cling on to one memory in particular.
It had been a few years ago. Her older brother Mark was home from college. Mark had been pretty skinny growing up, but had grown into his body putting on lean muscle.
Her parents had been out this one morning. A typical high schooler, Amy had slept in until close to noon. When she’d gotten up, she heard the shower down the hall running.
Amy had passed down the hall on her way to the stairs, and noticed that the door was slightly ajar. The house was old, and she knew that this door wasn’t perfectly fitted to its frame, occasionally would pop open.
That must have been what happened here. As she passed by, she saw through the small gap between the door and the jamb her brother through all the steam. He was naked, about to get in the shower. Amy to her surprise and self-disgust couldn’t help but notice how good he looked.
It was only a second, and thank goodness he hadn’t seen her. But the image was burned into her mind, then and forever more. That image, it made her suddenly wet between her legs.
She had gone down into her father’s study, and once she was sure her parents were out and Mark was still upstairs, she had masturbated furiously.
But the hose were changing the memory. In it, her brother was wearing pantyhose when she had spied him in the bathroom. And when she was masturbating, she had been wearing pantyhose beneath her pajama pants.
Amy had realized that this wasn’t what had happened, but the memory kept changing. She couldn’t stop it, was powerless to resist her psyche being peeled back. Now the memory was that her father had found her masturbating in his study, and as he approached her, and began taking off his khakis. He was wearing a pair of pantyhose beneath them.
With her memories changing, Amy had stopped fighting, and Mark had been able to turn her over onto her back. Gina had started pulling Amy’s black pants down, then slipping off the white lace thong she had on underneath.
“No,” Amy had said weakly again from beneath her pantyhose mask. There was a tear running down her face, beneath the nylon.
Gina had positioned herself next to her latest victim, said, “Amy, dear, this pussy of yours needs some attention. Don’t pretend otherwise.” Gina had then slipped her fingers along Amy’s clit, and into her slit.
Amy had moaned. She still had known she shouldn’t respond to it like this, that this supplication was what Gina and her brother wanted. But it just felt so fucking good. Why resist?
Her changed memories had made it easier. If you have a memory of doing perverted shit with your family while wearing pantyhose, it’s so much easier to just keep going with it. After all, she remembered sucking off her daddy through his nylons, and then how he licked her young pussy through her own hose. Once you cross that line, the only choice you have is to keep going. Embrace yourself as a pantyhose slut.
Which might explain what had happened next. Mark was kneeling at her side still, though no longer holding her down. His dick was still making a tent of the nylons he wore. That big dick of his, it wasn’t that far from her face.
With her hand, Amy suddenly reached up, grabbed Mark’s cock to their mutual surprise. She had gripped it hard, then she had brought it to her mouth and started sucking it right through the pantyhose mask she had on, and the nylons he was wearing.
“Oh, fuck, baby sis,” Mark had said. “You’re such a good sister, sucking big brother’s shaft like that.”
“Look at you, Amy,” Gina had said with a laugh. “A natural pantyhose, brother-sucker.”
Her mouth worked even harder on her brother’s dick until finally, Amy felt the warm jet of his seed pushing through his nylons and her hose mask, and into her welcoming mouth.
Her brother’s cum, and Gina’s fingering of Amy’s pussy, had made the young woman’s orgasm inevitable. The orgasm had seemed to radiate from Gina’s finger into Amy’s clit, and then from there spread out to the rest of her body in violent wave. The wave of that sensation had washed away the old Amy as she slipped into unconsciousness, replacing it with something new: the enslaved and liberated Amy, another addition to The Silken.
In the days since Amy’s conversion, Gina was still enjoying the novelty of having two slaves, still getting used to the power she hoped to extend soon over her own daughter.
Now as Amy approached her and Mark, Gina released her grip on Mark’s pantyhosed cock. “I think his pump has been primed enough.”
Gina eased herself out of her chair, and sat her tight, nylon ass on her desk. She leaned back, spread her legs. “Amy, pleasure me, you fucking cum-slut.”
Amy didn’t hesitate. She glided towards her Mistress, bent over, put her elbows down on the desk, and gripped Gina’s ass.
As Amy’s mouth moved towards Gina’s waiting twat, Gina called over to Mark. “Fuck your sister while she’s fucking me. Your choice: her pussy or her ass.”
“I’ll fuck her pussy, Mistress.”
“Just promise me it’ll be my ass later, brother,” Amy said, before turning back to Gina’s pussy, and attaching her nylon-sheathed mouth to it with the urgency of a thirsty tick.
Behind her, Mark pulled down the waistband of his pantyhose, freeing his swollen dick. He approached his sister from behind, put his cock between her hosed-encased cheeks with his right hand, and then with his left, reached to his sister’s pussy. With his finger, he popped a hole into the nylon protecting Amy’s pussy, and his finger stabbed into her cunt.
“Mmmmmmm,” Amy groaned as she continued lapping at Gina’s pussy.
“That’s right, Amy, your brother’s going to fuck you now,” Gina said, sweat beginning to glisten on her tits.
Mark moved his finger from his sister, and tore a hole along the seam of Amy’s pantyhose, exposing completely her pussy.
With his right hand, he took his dick and inserted it into his sister.
“Oh fuck, sis, I’m in your pussy,” Mark breathed.
Watching this, Gina grabbed with one of her hands the back of Amy’s masked head, pushed her mouth harder against her. “That’s right, Mark, fuck your sister’s pussy. You know she wants it. She always wants her big brother cock. Isn’t that right, slut-Amy?”
In response, Amy lapped at her Mistress’s pussy even harder, grabbed her Mistress’s ass even tighter.
Gina could see Mark gripping Amy’s pantyhosed thighs tightly as she fucked her from behind. He was jamming his dick harder and harder into her, and Gina could feel Amy quiver in response.
“I love fucking my sister’s tight pussy, Mistress,” Mark said through his mask.
“I know, darling, she’s just such a good slut, taking your dick and eating my pussy at the same time.”
“I want to cum in my sister,” Mark cried out.
“You want to fill your sister’s tight cunty with your seed?”
“Oh Christ, yes.”
“Have all those spermies in her pussy, so she can feel you still inside her when she goes back home to your parents’ tonight? You need to cum, Mark, it’s okay, cum in your sister while I’m cumming from her mouth, she’s such a good little snatch-licker, she’s making your Mistress cum,” Gina said, the words pouring from her as the pleasure mounted in her cunt.
“I can’t hold it any longer,” Mark yelled.
“Don’t, baby, pour it all into your sister, every fucking drop of it!”
He did.
Mark’s head titled back and his mouth opened and he roared in triumph as his cum shot into Amy.
Amy felt the warmness inside her, the sweet cum her brother was injecting into her womb. She had been close already, but the sensation of his cum – the wrongness of what they were doing – brought her to orgasm.
Mark, Amy, and Gina were connected like copper cable transporting electric current. The orgasm moved from Mark into Amy, and finally into Gina. The sight of brother fucking sister, brother cumming in sister, sister cumming because of brother, pushed Gina over the edge.
“That’s it babies, cum for me, cum for your pantyhose mommy!” Gina screamed as the orgasm broke over her. And in that moment, calling herself a ‘pantyhose mommy,’ Gina knew she was ready for her daughter.
Exhausted, breathing heavy, Gina’s head fell back onto her desk. Her eyes happened upon a picture of Laura sitting on the credenza. It was her little girl’s freshman portrait, and she looked lovely in it.
While coming down from her orgasm, Gina studied the picture. Then she whispered to it, “You’re next, bitch.”