Becoming A Lesbian Slave Ch 05

Summary:

Revenge plan begins: Up first, Amber's Mom.

Thanks to

Rosario Cardillo

for pushing me into returning to this epic story.

And thanks to: Tex Beethoven

for editing.

Note 1:

In Part 1, Cassie is the owner of a Boston bridal shop. Although in the past it's been very successful, recently its sales, and thus its profits, have declined severely during a recession. So she hires a young woman who has a stellar reputation for taking on failing businesses and turning them around into wildly successful ones. But she always demands total control of a business, at least temporarily, before she'll do anything at all for it. Cassie agrees to her terms in desperation, signs a contract, and from that moment on, even though within a week the customers and the money are flooding in, she watches her world falling apart, as the young woman (consistently referred to or addressed as

Ms.

Amber by absolutely

everyone,

far and wide) assumes iron control not only of Cassie's business, but also of her sex life, by training her to become a thoroughly submissive pet.

In Part 2, Cassie desperately tries to find her way out of her predicament, but instead she falls deeper into submission, including becoming her secretary's pet, servicing a stranger at a hair salon, wearing a vibrating egg in public, and the surprising arrival of her mother accompanying Amber.

In Part 3, Cassie is worried her mother might get drawn into Ms. Amber's wicked ways, but she is surprised to learn her mother isn't who she thought she was... she is a dominant lesbian, and maybe, just maybe, she will have a solution to Cassie's predicament. In part to reintroduce herself to her daughter, one night the Mom takes her daughter to an upscale lesbian club called Le Cygne, where she learns to her astonishment that totally unlike her experiences with Amber, submitting to a Mistress can be delightful.

In part 4, Cassie submits to her mother in the lesbian club, and perhaps she finds romance with a beautiful limousine driver named Petra.

And now the next morning...

...

...

...

Becoming a Lesbian Slave Ch. 05

We were aboard a morning flight to Atlanta... in first class... when Mom asked (she'd already been asleep by the time I returned to our hotel room), "So you and Petra were together in the limo for a while."

"Yeah, it was... um... it was good," I said.

"Just good?" she asked.

"No, better than good. And she asked me out."

"Really?" Mom asked, looking surprised.

"Hey!" I said.

"No, I'm not objecting, it's great! Petra is an amazing woman."

"So far, I have to agree."

"And she has an amazingly wicked tongue," she said with a smile. "And I mean that in two ways."

"Hey!" I protested, realizing my mother had been with my potential girlfriend before I had.

"Just saying," she shrugged with a wicked smile.

"And you got her to eat your pussy before you got around to eating your own daughter's," I whispered... finding the incestual element still a turn on, even the morning after.

"Yes I did," Mom agreed, as she placed her hand intimately high on my leg. "But I plan on making up for lost time with you."

"You'd better," I said. "I wasted a lot of years thinking I wasn't a lesbian."

"You had to discover that on your own," she said, "as well as your affinity for incest," as the stewardess came by to offer us some complimentary beverages. (First Class is great! It only costs a thousand bucks or so extra for free drinks... even though we weren't drinking alcoholic ones.)

A minute later, Mom said, "If this was a longer flight, I'd try to seduce that girl."

"Really?"

"Yes, the Mile-High Club is a very prestigious club to belong to. You get fantastic bragging rights!"

"You're so bad," I said with a smile.

"Never had sex in the sky?"

"Nope."

"Want to?"

"How?" I asked, looking around. There were a couple people sitting across the aisle from us, but thankfully no one behind us, who could listen in on our rather scandalous conversation.

"It's not super comfortable, but that bathroom over there can fit two," she said.

"Mom!"

As she finished her orange juice, she said, "I expect you to knock twice, a minute from now."

"Mom!" I repeated, as she stood up and gave me a look, before swaying past the stewardess to the bathroom.

I sighed.

Yet I also wanted some pussy... some Mommy pussy... and nobody on this plane knew us from Adam... or even from Eve... so fuck it... or more precisely... lick it! So I stood up, smiled at the stewardess as I passed her, and brazenly knocked on the bathroom door. The girl might not know us, but it was obvious what we were up to.

Mom opened it, and the stewardess gave me a grin and a thumb's up, as I slipped inside. I barely had a moment to grin back, before Mom shut the door behind me.

It was indeed tiny and cramped.

Mom stood up, her ass leaning against the infinitesimal so-called sink with one foot on the floor, the other on the closed toilet seat, "Get licking, baby girl," she instructed, as she lifted her dress.

"Yes, Mommy," I obeyed, kneeling awkwardly in the confined cubicle and leaning forward to sample her morning dew.

"That's it, baby girl," she moaned, as my tongue parted her pussy lips. "Lick your Mommy."

"Yes, Mommy," I repeated, as her subtle scent and teasing taste catapulted me with my first lick into pussy--pleasing automatic pilot. My mind shut down and my lips and tongue took over. I licked up and down with smooth, paintbrush-like licks.

"Oh yes, you hungry girl," she moaned. "I probably should have fed you before we left the hotel."

"Your baby girl does enjoy a homemade breakfast," I agreed, as I probed her hole, then added, "as well as lunch, supper, and midnight snacks."

"Mmmmmmm," she moaned.

"You taste so good, Mommy," I said, wanting to get her off, but also to use the term 'Mommy', which made my pussy tingle.

"Suck on my clit, baby slut," she ordered.

"Mmmmmmmm," I moaned, still finding it surreal that I was licking my mother. And even more surreal to be doing it in a tiny bathroom in an airplane, which at 35,000 feet up, was more than

six

miles high, not just one. And also I was her pet now, so I was glad she was calling me her slut. Before I met Ms. Amber, no one would ever

dare

use the horrific word 'slut' to describe me... but now it was horrific no longer, and I was proud to be a slut for pussy, and especially for my mother's pussy.

"That's it, honey," she moaned, as I worked on her clit.

"I love your cunt, Mommy," I moaned back, getting turned on just from pleasing her.

"I know, honey," she moaned, her legs twitching slightly.

Then for a couple minutes, I just licked her pussy and clit, until she grabbed the back of my head and smooshed my face against her wet pussy. Taking her silent instruction to heart, I tugged her swollen clit between my lips, and flicked my tongue against it several times.

"That's it, you hungry girl," she moaned, lifting her ass to get my face deeper into her wetness... and then a few seconds later, her cum flooded out of her and onto my face!

I lapped as fast as I could, my face getting soaked with Mom's first orgasm of the day.

When she released my head, she looked down at me and smiled, saying, "Amber trained you very well."

"Most of that was just learning from experience," I said, not wanting to give Amber any credit at all for my new expertise.

"Whatever. However you got there, you're very good at your craft," she laughed softly.

"You know I've always been a perfectionist."

"That you have," she agreed, as she pulled me up and kissed me softly. "Now keep that special glean on your face when you return to your seat."

"But I'll smell like you," I pointed out.

"You'd better," she said as she opened the door and shoved me out of the bathroom, then locked herself back inside.

I went back to my seat, feeling a bit nervous because some people might notice my cum-coated face, but also a little excited for the same reason. But no one had seemed to notice my brief walk of shame as I sat back down.

It was a few minutes later, my Mom now sitting beside me again, when the stewardess came to check on us, and she gave me a second look and a second sly grin. I felt my cheeks burning, but she played it cool, and didn't say anything at all.

The rest of the flight was anti-climactic... pun intended... we chatted about going on an actual vacation trip once this situation was resolved and my business was back on track. We chatted about other things too, but she refused to tell me what her plan about Amber was, only that it would be a hoot, and I'd love it.

Once we'd debarked from the plane and were inside a taxi, she said, "Now when we get there, let me do all the talking."

"But I don't even know what we'll be doing," I objected.

"What

you'll

be doing is leaving everything up to me. But in essence, we're dealing with Amber once and for all."

"In Atlanta?"

"Exactly," she replied, as if that was supposed to make sense to me.

"You're bewildering," I sighed.

"Says the savvy businesswoman who signed a contract with a perfect stranger, and thus gave the girl free rein to turn you into her lesbian slave and to take over your business," she scoffed.

"Hey!" I objected. But that was all I had.

"Don't worry," Mom said, squeezing my leg. "I'll clean up your mess."

I sighed again.

The taxi took us to a house in a suburb that looked completely out of place. While every other house in the neighborhood was built in the eighties or earlier, this one had recently been completely refurbished.

"Whose house is this?" I asked.

"Amber's mother," Mom answered.

"

Amber's mother!?"

I blurted, totally astonished.

"Is there an echo in here?" she joked. "Yes, we're paying a visit to Amber's mother. Let's go."

"Um, okay," I said as I paid the driver. I wondered if he'd overheard the bit about my being a lesbian slave... not that I cared anymore.

We walked up to the house, and I asked, "Is she expecting us?"

"Yes."

"And what's the plan?"

"Your part of the plan is that... unless I ask you a question, which you will answer succinctly... you'll just et me do all the talking," she elaborated.

"Okay," I agreed reluctantly, as she rang the doorbell.

I took a deep breath, filled with curiosity and trepidation.

A moment later... though it felt like forever... the door opened. I don't know what I'd expected Amber's Mom to look like... I hadn't really thought much about it... but this wasn't it. Although she was pretty, she was also quite chubby, and much older than I would have imagined... in her late fifties, at least.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Anderson," Mom greeted. "I'm Barbara Williams, and this is my daughter Cassandra Williams. Thank you for agreeing to see us."

"It's my pleasure. I'm Eleanor Anderson," she responded warmly.

Eleanor was a granny's name in my book, and it was very different from the sensuality of a name like Amber.

"Please come in," she greeted with a warmth I'd never seen in Amber... not even briefly. But when I looked closely at her for a moment, I saw the family resemblance.

"Thank you," Mom responded as we entered the home. In passing, she said graciously, "You've done some lovely renovations."

"Actually. my daughter insisted on doing them," the mother deflected. She looked embarrassed as she added, "I told her they weren't necessary, but she insisted on doing them. In fact, what she actually wanted to do was to buy me a new house in Boston, a much larger one, but this has always been my home and I wouldn't be happy anywhere else, so she relented on that idea."

"I understand," Mom chuckled softly. "Kids always think they know what their parents need better than the parents themselves do."

Eleanor laughed, "That does seem to be the case." In the living room, she invited us to "Please be seated," pointing out to a couple of comfortable looking upholstered chairs.

"Thank you," my Mom responded, as gracious as ever. I tried to figure out what her plan was. This seemed to be as mundane a situation as one could ever find.

"Would you like some coffee or tea?" the mother offered.

"Tea would be delightful," Mom said.

"Great! I'll be right back," the woman said, walking away.

"Delightful?" I asked mockingly with a

faux

haughty look.

"Shush, you," she said. "I'm not the slut with cunt cum all over my face."

"As if she could tell," I scoffed.

Mom leaned over and smelt my cheek, "You even smell like cunt."

"It's

your

cunt," I pointed out.

"I don't deny that it's a heavenly aroma."

"Then I imagine it's your pussy glean that makes my face shine so attractively

"That it does. And don't' you forget it, Missy."

"So what's the actual plan?"

"To turn her into our chubby fuck toy, film the action, and then use the video as leverage to coerce Amber into going away and leaving you

the fuck

alone."

"Really?" I asked, "she doesn't seem like much of a submissive."

"Did you?"

"No, but..."

"I seldom fail to get what I want."

"So I'm learning," I said, just as the woman returned with a tray laden with cups of tea and a plate of cookies. Everything about her was much more like a granny figure than a potential pet. But as I'd learned to my sorrow, appearances can be very, very deceiving.

"So... Barbara, you said over the phone that you had news for me about my daughter. How do you know her?" Eleanor asked pleasantly, sitting down across from us, after setting the plate of cookies on the coffee table and serving us our tea.

"Amber has been instrumental in rebranding my daughter's wedding apparel shoppe," my mother answered blandly.

"Oh, that's delightful," the mother said, looking very proud of her daughter.

"Yes, she's very good at her job," Mom said, not giving anything away.

"I'm

so

glad to hear that," Eleanor sighed.

"Does she visit you very often?" Mom asked.

"Not as often as I would like," Eleanor said, her tone and her face telling me it wasn't very often at all. She was lonely, and she missed her daughter. Which gave my conscience a twinge about my own mother and me. Until the past couple of days, we hadn't seen each other very much at all in the past few years... work having consumed me.

"Then that needs to change," Mom said, as she got off of the chair she was sitting on, and went over to stand near Eleanor, who was on the couch.

"I doubt it. She's very busy saving the world," the mother said. "And that's important work!" Her demeanor didn't match her supportive words, however. She looked more defeated than anything else.

"I see," Mom said, looking at me with intent, which twinged my earlier thought about how she might feel about our drifting apart in recent years. "But you should always have time for your mother. Isn't that right, Cassandra?"

"Yes, Mom," I agreed dutifully, doing my best to hide my guilt for failing to live up to that standard. "There's nothing like the bond between a mother and her daughter." A standard I sincerely hoped to live up to, going forward... and now that I was her pet, I was sure I could do much better.

"You see how readily she agrees with me?" Mom asked as she sat down next to Eleanor. "And that's not just lip service. My daughter will do anything I ask her to without hesitation. Isn't that right, honey?"

"Yes, Mommy, anything," I agreed. I sensed... and didn't mind, but was actually glad... that I was about to be required to perform as her trick sex pony... embodying the mindless obedience she was attributing to me. "I always do my best to be your good girl."

"Oh," Eleanor said, clearly confused by the turn in this conversation... and then her confusion was doubled when Mom placed a hand on her pantyhose-clad thigh.

"Do you see?" Mom whispered, her tone shifting to conspiratorial... she and Eleanor against the world. "And just so you know, I can convince your daughter to become a 'good girl' for you too." I knew that what was about to happen would be very interesting... and instructive... watching my mother in action while she seduced this unsuspecting woman.

"W-w-what do you mean?" the mother stammered, looking perplexed at the sudden sight of my mother's hand on her leg.

"What I mean is your daughter needs to learn her place, and I'm here to make that happen for you," Mom said bluntly.

"Madam, I think you need to leave," Eleanor said brusquely, shoving my Mom's hand away.

"I could do that..." Mom said with a dramatic pause, "...and leave you be..." she replaced her hand on the stunned woman's legs. "...but I don't think you really want me to do that."

"And why is that?" Eleanor asked, and this time... curiously, I thought... she didn't reject my Mom's hand and shove it away.

"Because first, I want my daughter to lick that likely long-neglected pussy of yours," Mom said, snapping her fingers above her head, then pointing at the floor in front of the older woman.

Eleanor's eyes went wide... almost like a cartoon character's... upon hearing my Mom's words, as well as from my own immediate response. I silently got out of my chair, went over to the two women, and dropped to my knees, uttering just two words: "Yes, Mommy." I was addressing my Mom, but I was looking up into Eleanor's eyes... like an evil angel.

"What's going on here?" Eleanor asked, completely stunned.

"A modicum of patience, if you please. You'll know much more in a moment," Mom forestalled her. Then she turned to me and asked, "Cassandra, who trained you to be a submissive?"

"Amber did."

"Amber?" Eleanor asked, dumbfounded. "

My

Amber?"

Mom leaned in and whispered in Amber's Mom's ear, "Yes. Your daughter has been a very, very bad girl."

"Please, go," Eleanor paraphrased her prior demand, this time standing up, for emphasis.

Mom, exhibiting an aggressive side of herself that I found quite hot, pulled the chubby woman back down onto the couch and refused, "Not gonna happen. You need to pay for your daughter's misdeeds."

"Excuse me?"

"She's been going from city to city, hoodwinking, seducing, humiliating, and taking advantage of women for years," Mom said.

"I don't think so," Eleanor said, looking overwhelmed. "She'd

never

do anything like that!"

"You don't believe me?" Mom asked, as she reached into her purse and pulled out her phone. "Then watch this."

"What are you showing her?" I asked.

"Shush," Mom said as she went straight to a video and touched Play.

As I listened to Amber ordering me around, I couldn't help wondering how Mom had gotten this recording. What I was hearing had occurred that first day I'd seen her, after she'd left my office.

In addition to hearing the sound like I could, Eleanor could also see the video. "It looks to me like your daughter wasn't being forced to do anything she didn't want to do," she commented after a minute or so.

"Perhaps," Mom shrugged. "Or perhaps not," she added. "But either way, what do you think would happen to your daughter's career if this video went public?"

"I have to admit it wouldn't look good. But it would look even worse for your daughter," Eleanor said, making a point that would indeed be tough to refute. Or it would be for anyone who wasn't my Mom.

"One might think so," Mom said, with her hand back on the chubby woman's legs, "but

your

daughter has already utterly destroyed

my

daughter's life... both personally and professionally... to the extent that she has nothing left to lose."

"I can't imagine it could

possibly

be that bad," Eleanor said, although she looked down her nose at me with markedly diminished respect.

"It's not that bad..." I said, "...it's far worse. For instance, picture me in a crowded downtown restaurant at lunchtime, after your daughter has inserted a remote-controlled vibrator in my vagina. And then she uses that remote for about twenty minutes, forcing me into an orgasm so intense, that while I'm convulsing helplessly, I can't stop myself from screaming my lungs out, with every last person in the restaurant stopping whatever they're doing and staring at me! And that's just

one

incident of

many,

that were worse." (Ordinarily I never called my slit the V-word anymore, but I decided that this early in our corruption of Eleanor, it was a good idea for me to use the academically correct term.)