Abigail

Sara Jean went rigid, every muscle locked. But her pussy fluttered wildly, spraying her free will all over Abigail. Then her body, her mind, her consciousness collapsed. Imploded She was left a senseless, dull husk twitching mindlessly on the bed.

Abigail lifted herself and worked up the girl's passive body. She lingered at the breasts and nipples, which were still erect. She bit one of the nipples hard.

No reaction whatsoever.

Abigail smiled and resumed her travels up the prostrate girl. She sucked Sara Jean's neck and swirled a tongue through the unhearing ear. Abigail lay flush against Sara Jean, who's eyes stared dully at the ceiling. Abigail kissed her, pushing her tongue as deep into Sara Jean as it would go.

Drop by drop, life refilled the empty vessel Sara Jean had become, first a moan, then hands that roamed over Abigail's body, then a feral light that reignited in the eyes. Sara Jean wrapped her legs around Abigail's and spread widely so their pussies could touch.

"You have the most delicious pussy," Abigail said.

Sara Jean pulled Abigail down and found herself in complete agreement.

Abigail pulled away, "Who owns you now?"

"You do," Sara Jean answered immediately. She groped for just the right work, " my ... Queen."

"And what will you do for your Queen?"

Sara Jean's heart skipped a beat, "Lick you, drink from you anything you want."

Abigail smiled and moved forward. Sara Jean slid down until, at last, her Queen's beautiful, perfect delta appeared overhead. At the sight of it, Sara Jean couldn't help but finger her own cunt, which was worthless in comparison.

Just the taste of it was enough to make Sara Jean cum over and over.

* * *

There was once final test of devotion.

Two pieces of furniture adorned the Queen's apartment. One was a chair, a throne. The Queen sat there, and at the foot of the throne, on her knees, was Heather, noisily slurping on the Queen's cunt as she roughly fingered herself.

On the far side of the room, Sara Jean lay on the fuck table, a padded surface raised approximately waist height off the floor. Handles were screwed into the wall just above the padding where the surface met the wall.

Sara Jean gripped those handles, arms extended. Her legs dangled off the table's edge. Gripping the handles allowed Sara Jean to push back as La Ronda fucked her.

The Queen had forbidden Sara Jean from men, but she hadn't forbidden cock. Because the Queen willed it, with a wave of her hand, LaRonda's clit had grown and expanded, sending the black woman into a seizure of bliss as it had done so.

But that was before. La Ronda was pushing her new member, all 11 inches of it, into Sara Jean's greedy snatch over and over. The fucking was so thorough that Sara Jean could make no sound. Slack jawed, her tongue licking her lips to find the last, precious droplets of LaRonda's essence from their earlier pussy eating session, all she could do was grip the handles to help La Ronda impale her.

Heather was the first to be tested. She swore to deliver her sister and best friend to her Queen. Her brain short circuited with lust, she could think of no one else, so instead, she swore to deliver women from off the street, perfect strangers, as many as the Queen desired. Heather passed the test.

La Ronda had no sister to deliver. Instead she offered a cousin and a co-worker of extraordinary beauty. Sensing she was close, La Ronda proposed to bring her Queen to her gym where she could have her pick of any and all the women there. The Queen rifled through LaRonda's mind, appraising the women who exercised there. La Ronda was rewarded with a vision of the shower at the gym and the orgy that would ensue, a dozen women, wet and entangled, licking pussy and pussy being licked. La Ronda had passed the test.

Sara Jean benefited from going last. It gave her time to think of specific women she would betray to prove her devotion. But La Ronda was still fucking her, spurting pussy juice from her magic cock, and making Sara Jean cum again and again, it was so hard to think.

With a deep breath and a superhuman effort, she screamed as La Ronda drew back.

"Kristi," her best friend, a beautiful red head with magnificent breasts.

La Ronda pushed forward and drew back.

"Jenn," the admin at work, a pixieish blond.

La Ronda pushed forward and drew back.

"Maria," the friendly barrista at the coffee shop near her work, so smokey hot.

La Ronda pushed forward and drew back.

And it went on until Sara Jean passed her Queen's test.