A Mother and Her Daughter Learned to Serve Me Together

I had wrapped up the last of my business in that city that very afternoon, in front of two men who owed me more than they could ever repay. I parted from them with a firm handshake and the promise, on their part, that they would not let me down. Then I left Noa at her doorstep and made my way, late into the night, to the apartment where I was expected.

The elevator smelled of waxed wood and expensive perfume. I went up slowly, savoring that good fatigue left by a day in which all your matters are settled. I didn’t expect the door to open before I knocked, or for Sira to hang herself around my neck as if she had gone months without seeing me.

—I’m sorry, master —she whispered against my ear, though it was obvious she wasn’t sorry at all—. I couldn’t wait. As soon as I got to my grandmother’s house and found out everything, I couldn’t think of anything else. Punish me if you want, but I needed it. My cunt’s been soaked since I got into the taxi.

—Easy —I laughed, brushing a lock of hair from her face and slipping my hand under her skirt to check for myself. My fingers sank into thick wetness that drew a moan from her—. No punishment tonight. Let’s go in.

The first thing I saw as I crossed the threshold was Encarna, standing in the middle of the living room, eyes fixed on the floor and hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. Despite her age, her body retained a severe dignity: her breasts, a little sagging, were accentuated by a black silk-and-lace bra, matched with tiny panties and stockings that ended in impossible heels.

—I hope it’s to your liking, master —said Berta, emerging from the kitchen with that smile of hers that always promised mischief—. I was told this was a special case.

I went closer. Her breathing quickened as soon as she felt my breath at the nape of her neck, and her nipples pressed hard against the silk like two impatient buttons. I ran a finger over the fabric and felt her harden even more. I slid my hand downward, between her thighs, and through her panties I found she was wet too, though she said nothing.

—Did she give you any trouble? —I asked, pressing her mound with my open palm.

—None —Berta replied—. She’s barely spoken. She’s let us do everything. We shaved her completely, just as she asked, and she didn’t make a peep even when we put the dildo in her to loosen her up.

In one corner of the living room, on cushions arranged for them, Pilar and her daughter Sara were waiting. Mother and daughter, both kneeling in identical poses, both in black leather lingerie and a fine collar from which hung a tag with their name. Seeing them together, offered by the same blood to the same owner, gave me a stab of pride that was hard to explain.

—We wanted to welcome you as you deserve —said Pilar, lifting her gaze only slightly—. Both of us.

—My mother taught me how to serve —added Sara, in a thread of a voice—. It’s only right that we learn together.

I nodded. A mother instructing her daughter in surrender, sharing the same man without jealousy, was one of the few things that could still surprise me. But that night I had other plans.

—I’m taking Encarna and Sira to her apartment —I announced—. You rest. Tomorrow I want all of you up early, naked and with your asses well lubricated.

***

Encarna’s apartment was spacious and old-fashioned, with dark furniture and a couple of crucifixes hanging on the walls. I sank into an armchair while she switched on the lights with clumsy hands. Something in her face had changed: in the previous room I had seen her excited and serene, and now a new unease dominated her, one that didn’t quite fit.

—Don’t you like us being here? —I asked.

—It’s not that, master —she swallowed—. It’s just that my servant will be here any moment. She lives here with me.

—Better —I said—. Then we’ll have an audience.

Sira didn’t wait for an order. She sat on the edge of the sofa, hoisted her skirt to her waist, tugged her panties aside with two fingers, and spread her legs wide. Her shaved, shining cunt was at Encarna’s face level, the lips already swollen and parting on their own from the wetness.

—You heard the master —she said, looking at her with a smile full of perversity—. On your knees, old woman. Show me what that pious mouth is good for. Eat my cunt until I come on your face.

Encarna obeyed with a mixture of shame and hunger that fascinated me. She dropped to her knees, rested trembling hands on Sira’s thighs, and brought her mouth slowly closer, like someone peering over an abyss. The first lick was timid, barely a caress of the tip of her tongue over the clit. The second, longer one, swept over the whole cunt from bottom to top and drew from Sira a moan that was half mockery, half pleasure.

—You don’t even know where to start —panted Sira, grabbing her by the hair and burying her face between her legs—. Get your tongue in there, fuck. Inside. And suck my clit at the same time. Like that, like that, don’t stop.

The widow buried her mouth in Sira’s cunt with clumsy but voracious devotion, like someone who has spent years holding back something she didn’t even know she had stored away. Her tongue went in and out with a wet, obscene sound that filled the room. Sira, with both hands in that tight ponytail, set the rhythm, lifted her, shoved her back down, rubbed her cunt all over her face until her chin shone.

—The pious girl learns fast —she panted—. Desire teaches quickly. Lick my lips, one by one. Now the clit, suck it like it’s a little cock. Yes, like that, you filthy thing.

I stripped slowly while watching the scene. My cock was already hard, hanging heavy against my belly, and a bead of pre-cum pearled at the tip. I moved behind Encarna, who was still bent over with her ass raised and her panties damp in the center. I pulled them aside with two fingers, exposing a mature cunt, dark, with thick lips already soaked from the heat of watching Sira. I dragged the head of my cock along her slit, smearing myself with her juices, rubbing the tip against her clit until she started moving her ass, searching for me.

When I entered her slowly, expecting a refusal that never came, she let out a long, hoarse moan that echoed through the whole apartment. Her cunt clamped down on me at once, hot and tight despite her age, and I had to hold still for a moment so I wouldn’t cum from the shock. I worked it in centimeter by centimeter, feeling her open for me, until I had buried myself to the root.

—You’re the second cock in my whole life —she confessed between spasms, not taking her mouth off Sira’s cunt except to speak—. And the first real one. The other didn’t even deserve the name. Oh, master, it’s so big, it fills me completely.

—How long, Encarna? —I asked, setting a slow, deep rhythm, pulling almost all the way out before spearing her again to the hilt.

—Too long, master. My husband died years ago, and he was never interested in my body. He was interested in my pain. Fuck me harder, please, harder, break my cunt.

That sentence explained everything. I sped up, gripping her hips, and began to drive into her with violence. My thighs struck her ass with a dry smack that mixed with the moans Sira was pulling from her above. Each thrust tore a guttural groan from her, and I felt her cunt contracting over my cock in tiny spasms.

—I’m coming, master, I’m coming on your cock —she whimpered, her voice muffled against Sira’s cunt—. Oh God, I haven’t come like this in years.

I let her tremble for a few seconds, with my cock still buried to the hilt, feeling her cunt milk me in convulsions. When she loosened, I withdrew with a wet sound and pressed the tip, smeared with her juices, a little higher, against the wrinkled, forbidden asshole. Once again I expected resistance that didn’t come. Instead of tensing, Encarna arched her back and pushed backward, offering her ass with a shamelessness that made me smile.

—There —she begged—. Break my ass, master. It’s yours. Everything is yours. Put it in all the way, don’t be gentle with me.

Even Sira, who had already come twice in her mouth, opened her eyes wide, surprised.

—What a discovery —she murmured—. A pious widow begging for it in the ass. This has to be seen.

I pushed carefully at first, feeling the sphincter resist and then yield, swallowing the head in one tug. Encarna let out a hoarse howl, half pain, half pleasure, and I took advantage of that moment to push a little deeper. Her ass was tight, burning, and squeezed my cock like a fist. When I saw that the pain, far from stopping her, was turning her on, I drove in more decisively until I had buried myself completely. I grabbed her ponytail and pulled back on it, arching her like a bow.

—Like this, slut? Is this how the pious girl likes it?

—Yes, master, yes. Hard. Without mercy. Treat this old woman’s ass like any whore’s.

I sodomized her with long, brutal thrusts while Sira pinched her nipples under the bra and spat in her mouth. Encarna moaned, begged for more force, came with a violence that made her legs tremble. A silent widow who had locked up under seven keys the woman who now screamed without the least shame with my cock buried to the hilt in her ass.

That was when the living room door opened. In the doorway, with a cheap robe buttoned to the neck and eyes wide open, the servant appeared. A young Latina woman, dark-haired and full-lipped, who stood petrified, spying on the scene, one hand still lost among the folds of the fabric and, from the tremor of her wrist, no doubt between her legs.

—Well, we have company —I said without pulling out of Encarna’s ass, setting a slow thrust so the young woman could see clearly how my cock disappeared into her mistress’s hole—. Do you like to watch? Were you touching your cunt behind the door?

—No, master —she stammered, cheeks burning—. Well... yes. But seeing the lady like that...

From the tone I understood there was no affection between them, to put it mildly.

—This one? —I laughed and turned to Encarna without pulling out—. This is no lady. Tell her yourself, with my cock in your ass, tell her.

—I’m no lady —Encarna panted, without a trace of pride—. I’m an old whore with her ass open. I’m whatever the master wants me to be.

Something broke in the young woman’s face. What I saw in her eyes was not desire, but years of resentment simmering on a slow burn.

—Do you want her? —I asked, finally sliding out of Encarna’s ass with a wet snap, leaving her gasping facedown on the table with her hole open and throbbing—. She’s yours. Do whatever you like with her.

—Really? —she asked, and when I nodded, her robe flew open at once, revealing a young, firm body barely covered by wet white cotton panties, soaked in the middle, and no bra. Her small, perky tits had dark, long nipples, stiff as darts.

Encarna made a mistake. She tried to provoke her one last time.

—You heard him, Mariela —she said with contempt.

The young woman threw herself on her like a wildcat and slapped her across the face so hard she fell back onto the floor, seated.

—My name is Yelitza —she spat—. I’ve been called Yelitza for two years, you racist old bitch.

What followed left me almost speechless. Yelitza slapped her with an open hand, first on the cheeks, then on the sagging breasts she had yanked out of the bra, and Encarna, instead of defending herself, smiled and drooled. The harder the blow landed, the happier the widow seemed. Her nipples turned red and swollen from all the slaps, and still she pushed them upward, offering them.

—I deserve it —she moaned—. Harder. Hit this old whore harder. On the tits, on the cunt, wherever you want.

Yelitza pried her legs open with her knee and slapped her right on the cunt, so loudly that Sira burst out laughing. Encarna screamed and came right there, with a gush of fluid that soaked her thighs, while the servant looked at her with a grimace of mixed disgust and pleasure.

Sira and I exchanged an astonished look. That woman was not looking for pleasure in sex, but in punishment. At last I understood her provocations, the humiliations she must have piled on the girl for months: she was seeking a reaction, a hard hand her dead husband could no longer give her.

When Yelitza grew tired of using her hands, she dragged Encarna by the hair until she was bent face down over the table, ass in the air and still shining with my saliva and her own juices, and looked around for something to continue with. I handed her a small strap whip Berta had left forgotten in the bag.

—Five —I warned her—. Not one more. You don’t know how much force you have in your hands.

Five sharp lashes cracked through the room, one after another, leaving parallel red marks on the mature cheeks. Encarna took them arching her back, biting her lip, her nipples straining at the lace and a thread of drool hanging from her chin. On the fifth she came again, moaning like a bitch in heat, and I ordered her to stop before the novice let herself be carried away by her own fury.

—Stop —I said, and Yelitza froze at once, panting, transformed into another woman.

I signaled to Sira, who moved behind the young woman and pulled her against her chest, sliding her hands down her torso until she freed her completely of her small, firm breasts, with their long, hard nipples. She pinched both nipples at once, tugging them, then lowered a hand over the flat belly to slip her fingers inside the soaked panties. Yelitza moaned and spread her legs.

—Lift your head —Sira whispered in her ear, while probing her cunt with two fingers—. I told you, she’s drenched. Want more? He can give you everything that old woman denied you. He can fuck you like you’ve never been fucked in your life.

—I want to be the one in charge —Yelitza replied, her voice broken by desire, moving her hips against Sira’s hand—. I want her to serve me. I want her to lick my cunt where she used to scrub the floor.

—That can be arranged —I said.

I made her kneel in front of me, tits bare and panties lowered halfway down her thighs. I held her face with one hand and rubbed her lips with my cock, still smeared with Encarna’s ass. She didn’t look away, didn’t even make a face. She stuck out her tongue and cleaned it along the length, from base to glans, then took it into her mouth all the way, without choking. I knew at once she was not a novice. She used her tongue, lips, and teeth with a skill that belied all her initial timidity. She took me out gleaming, swallowed me again, licked my balls one by one while she jerked me off with her other hand.

—Would you really give your life to me? —I asked, gripping her head and fucking her mouth at a slow pace.

She nodded without taking me out of her mouth, cheeks bulging each time the tip touched her throat.

—And would you like to be the mistress and have her be the servant?

—Yes —she said, letting me out for an instant, a thread of saliva hanging from her chin—. I’d make her pay for every humiliation. I’d have her on her knees all day licking my cunt and ass.

She swallowed me back down to the hilt and sped up the rhythm with her hand. Encarna, kneeling beside us, watched the scene hypnotized, one hand lost between her own thighs, masturbating slowly. When I felt I was close, I grabbed Yelitza by the ponytail and thrust my cock down her throat. I came in her mouth in several thick spurts that filled her tongue and spilled from the corners of her lips. She swallowed without losing her smile, challenging me with her eyes to the end. The last load I shot onto her face, over her cheekbones and lips, and she licked it slowly, savoring every drop. At her side, Encarna watched the scene on her knees, with a mixture of envy and peace that I only understood later.

I sat them both on the sofa, still naked, and asked them to talk. Encarna went first.

—I’m a masochist, master —she said bluntly—. My husband knew it and took advantage of it, but then he died and I was afraid of falling into the wrong hands. That’s why I provoked the girl. I was looking for someone to treat me the way I need.

—And you? —I asked Yelitza.

—My ex was a degenerate —she replied, wiping the last drop of semen from her lip with the back of her hand—. I let him get away with everything, even letting them fuck his ass with a dildo while I sucked him off. But when he wanted to share me with his friends, that was where I drew the line, and from one day to the next he kicked me out. A neighbor brought me here to serve. Today was the first time I’ve ever been with a woman.

—Well, you’ve got a promising tongue —Sira pointed out, running a finger over her sticky lips.

—From today on, you’re the mistress of this house —I told Yelitza—, and Encarna will be your servant, as long as you accept belonging to me. Berta will teach you whatever you need. For now, no one besides those present may touch you.

—I’m yours, master —Yelitza replied, and I saw a tear well up that she didn’t bother to hide—. I’ll do whatever you ask.

—And does that suit you? —I asked Encarna, almost as a courtesy.

—It doesn’t matter to me to serve, master —she replied—. Even if you parade me naked through the street with a dildo up my ass. I only ask that you not leave me in the dark again.

I dressed slowly. Before leaving, the image of Yelitza, still kneeling on the sofa with her nipples erect, her wet panties hanging from one ankle and that newly tamed rage, made me retrace my steps. I laid her on the same table where I had whipped Encarna, parted her legs with a sudden motion, and buried my cock in her cunt in one thrust. She was so wet I sank into her all the way without resistance. I gripped her by the hips and fucked her hard and fast while she drove her heels into my kidneys and moaned without shame. Her small tits bounced with each thrust and Sira, laughing in a corner, came over to cover her mouth with her cunt so she could eat her out at the same time. I left her gasping after two minutes of brutal thrusting, with a thread of semen trickling between her thighs, already marked as mine.

The three of us went out to the landing. As we went down, I thought of them all: of Pilar and Sara, mother and daughter learning obedience in the same room; of Encarna and Yelitza, executioner and victim reconciled under my hand; of Sira, who squeezed my arm as if she feared all of it might vanish upon waking.

—Are you sure about leaving them alone? —Sira asked in the elevator.

—More than ever —I replied—. They’re going to be the perfect pair. At least at first.

That night, at last alone with her, I drew her against my body and fell asleep thinking that I had founded something more than a whim. A new family, with a single patriarch, where blood and surrender blurred together until they could no longer be distinguished.