Becoming the Alpha Male Ch. 07

"FUCCCKK," she shouted as an orgasm found her. My cock reached previously unknown depths of her rectum and her asshole began convulsing, sending new waves of pleasure through my manhood as I dumped a second load of cum in her and staggered forward, holding myself up over her. Mom slumped into the table and in what must have been sensory overload, blacked out.

Grandad moved in his chair. His eyes were wide. "Good god, I've never seen anything like that."

* * * *

Debbie delivered the signed agreement Monday morning. On my instructions she called her husband and told him there was a teacher's meeting that night. She would not be home until 7:00 P.M. When she returned home immediately after school she fished from an open purse on the living room table a picture identification of a girl a few days short of her sixteenth birthday. Debbie found her husband and the girl naked in the bedroom. Debbie stormed out and headed for the home of her new found best friend, my mother. Amy, after confessing to Billy that she was underage, arrived about thirty minutes later. Debbie thanked Amy with a thorough cunt eating. Mom, meanwhile, lowered her cunt to Amy's mouth; I took Debbie from behind.

The next morning Debbie's very hungover husband was called to John Russell's office and, after a withering critique of his skills, fired. Before leaving Mr. Russell said, "If you ever want to work in this industry again you better resolve matters quickly and quietly with your next two visitors."

Rebecca Faince and Lee Jonas entered. Lee, in an aching voice, described Amy as an underage girl seduced by a married adulterous man. Billy broke down and cried. A little investigation would have shown it was all a lie; Amy was nineteen years old, but Billy just wanted the nightmare to end. Within twenty-four hours he raided his trust fund for $100,000.00 to settle Amy's claim and left town to move in with his mother. While the divorce action took a little longer; it ended in a generous settlement in Debbie's favor.

Debbie rented a small apartment in an out-of-the-way complex where her comings and goings, or lack of them, would go unnoticed. Otherwise she moved in with us. She looked great when she arrived. Over time, as we toned her body and re-worked her hair, make-up, and clothing, she came to look even better. Most nights she slept on a futon on the floor of our bedroom. Around the house she dressed in lingerie, bathing suits, or sexy short dresses and high heels. While we had to be circumspect in our home town, on weekends the three of us would often travel to nearby cities where I would show up at clubs with two gorgeous women in impossibly short skirts, impossibly high heels, and displaying gravity-defying cleavage. On occasion, we would go to more exotic locales where Mom and I would demonstrate our mastery over our pet blonde.

Mom and I kept pushing Debbie's limits – we had her suck the principal's dick while he was making morning announcements, seduce the captain of the cheerleading squad, and lent her out to a number of discrete friends. She never displayed a hint of rebellion. While Dad cleaned and cooked, Debbie had her household duties. She paid loving attention to our clothes, dressing and undressing us each day, and was responsible for drawing our baths. Debbie's mouth on my cock each morning rendered an alarm clock redundant. She trained as a masseuse and the pain of a hard work out was often relieved by her talented touch. She loved washing and drying Mom's hair, doing her nails and bringing her a cup of hot tea before bed each night .

That Christmas Mom, Dad, Debbie, and I, with Amy and Rebecca as our guests, flew to Hawaii to spend two weeks in a rented beach house with Sarah, Lauren, Patricia and two of Patricia's football players. Janna and Hu, who worked a flight from the mainland, joined us for a long weekend. Dad cleaned and cooked while the rest of us partied and fucked.

The next year I left for college, moving into an up-scale neighborhood near campus. Many of the successful men who lived there were on their second marriages and I learned that trophy wives want kids – it cements the relationship and ups the child support numbers if the cement doesn't hold. Let's hope no demographer ever correlates my years there with the spike in the birthrate.

My increasing involvement in the family business led me to dinner with Robert Smythe, the brilliant young chief financial officer of the one of the car companies whose product we sold. He had just finished a messy divorce with a bitchy demanding wife and while in town asked if we could to rustle him up a dinner date. Debbie was recruited. Robert was in love before dessert was served. After some months of long distance courtship I gave her a new assignment: wife to one of our most important contacts. Debbie spends one weekend a month with us. The rest of the time she makes Bob Smythe very happy. We have benefitted greatly from his gratitude.

While I have no excuse for not having earlier recognized the use of women like Debbie, trained to selflessly detect, empathize, and address the needs of those around them, I quickly remedied the oversight. I identified two friends, natural submissives, who were seniors in the university's education department, and claiming I couldn't determine which one I liked best, asked both out for an evening. When we got back to my place I brought both of them off with my hands and then fucked them. I next taught them how to deliver a double blow job. Over the summer Mom and I completed their training. Although the local school system was not hiring, Grandad's influence combined with a splendid double blow job – they had had enough practice – on the system's superintendent garnered them positions teaching at the two local high schools. They have been there ever since, identifying the girls we turn into sex slaves.

We had to move into a larger, nicer, and more private home, but I have not been without two or three slaves and slaves-in-training since. Most of them become wives or mistresses to the executives of our most important suppliers and customers. Some have flipped female executives to the gay side of life. We have even retained a few to work in the dealerships. Beautiful and empathetic, they make wonderful salespeople. They also work cheap.

I joined the company full-time upon graduation and succeeded Grandad as president three years later. Over the next twenty years, with the help of our girls, our sales have expanded ten-fold.

Dad, slimmed down and physically fit, was permitted to have the sex reassignment surgery he craved. After the hair removal, breast augmentation, and vaginoplasty, he was as least as good looking a woman as he had been a man. I've fucked his cunt, and while it ain't bad, my dick is a bit too big. I still prefer his ass and throat. To my surprise, as Dad became increasingly comfortable in his new life, his confidence and financial acumen grew. He is an important member of my management team.

I wanted children; Mom did not. We compromised and did it my way. After our first two, unfortunately, medical issues precluded further pregnancies. Technology provided the solution. Mom's eggs were harvested, fertilized with my sperm, and implanted in some of our girls; Debbie was proud to be the first to bear our child. Many of our girls and their unknowing husbands have followed Debbie's lead. Due to Mom's finite supply of eggs I have had to impregnate the remaining girls the old fashioned way. I keep an eye on the most promising of my children.

With the proceeds of the settlement with Debbie's husband, Amy got a doctorate in forestry. She works with developing countries to establish environmentally sound logging operations. When in the United States she stays with Mom and I. A fiercely independent woman, she has never married. Few have the courage to ask her about her three beautiful children or the identity of their father.

Sarah received her doctorate and is a full professor. Lauren, who remains devoted to her mistress, began publishing ground breaking work again. They still live together in the same home and administer a mathematics department known for training woman mathematicians. Sarah attributes their success to unremitting discipline.

Patricia, who deserves credit for starting all of this, married into one of Boston's most distinguished families. She is on the university's part-time faculty and devotes her spare time to good works. She keeps her husband very happy. They have four children, three boys and a girl. The girl, at least, is his.