Mean Girls Rule! Pt. 04

Victoria had never seen her neighbor naked before. She was truly a sight to behold.

Marta was fifty-eight years old. She was five-foot six and weighed one-hundred and seventy-four pounds. She had a steel-gray crew cut and a square face, with sharp, angular features and a thin, cruel mouth. As usual, she wore no make-up. Her flesh was pale and marked with dozens of tattoos, most of them sexually explicit Her arms and legs were thickly muscled, but going to flab. Her breasts were large and pendulous, the over-sized nipples pointing directly down at the floor. She had a bit of a pooch, wide hips and a generous rump. Victoria was reminded of a sculpture she had seen in college of a Babylonian fertility goddess.

Between her legs was a lush, unruly thatch of brownish-gray pubic hair that had never been within two feet of a razor. A thick line of hair snaked upward from her vulva to her navel. Victoria noticed that she did not shave her armpits or legs and was not surprised.

Marta sat down regally in the overstuffed armchair and slowly spread her legs. She looked down at the kneeling slave before her.

"Five minutes," she said brusquely and snapped her fingers.

Victoria leaned forward on to her hands and crawled quickly between the twin pillars of Marta's thick alabaster thighs, pushing her face deep into the thick triangle of coarse hair. It took a second for her to navigate to Marta's slit amid the tangle of her pelt, but at last she found her mark. She snaked her tongue deep inside, opening the inner labia with deep, rhythmic thrusts. She breathed steadily through her nose, inhaling the deeply pungent musk of the older woman.

The slave tongue-fucked Marta's slit for several more seconds, then licked up and down the slackening furrow for a full minute. She was rewarded with fresh gush of fluid, which she gulped down greedily. The inner labia were now soft and fat, distended with arousal. The flow of her secretions increased rapidly and soon the slave's entire face was slick with Marta's juices. Victoria began to gulp as she licked, savoring the flavor of the older woman's essence. She nibbled at each lip, sucking the tender flesh into her mouth as she slowly worked her way up to vertex of Marta's vagina and the pearl that awaited her there.

Marta had a fat clit, almost as big as Victoria's thumb-knuckle. The slave used her tongue to unlimber the hood, then closed her lips around the nubbin of flesh and began to suck it like a little cock. She suckled the tissue for a full minute, feeling the clit swell even further in her mouth. Soon it began to throb. This was the signal Victoria had been waiting for. The slave spit out the fattened clit and began to flick it rhythmical with the tip of her tongue. She opened her eyes for the first time and looked up at Marta's face.

Marta looked down implacably and locked eyes with her neighbor. The slave had a talented tongue, you had to give her that, but there was no way she was going to pass this particular trial. During these tests, it amused Marta to watch the eyes of her slaves looking up from her thick patch of pubic hair as their hungry mouths worked. She loved how the expressions changed from confidence to concern and finally to desperation as the clock ticked down and the realization of their impending failure dawned.

"Two minutes to go," she said casually, glancing at her watch, then back down at the slave.

Victoria's eyes widened. Where had the time gone? She continued to stare into Marta's eyes as she flicked desperately at the older woman's clit. Why wasn't she cumming? She began to alternate between sucking and licking, trying desperately to cajole the flesh past the physiologic tipping point, but nothing seemed to be happening. Her tongue was getting tired, the thrusts more sluggish. Then, the slave thought of the consequences of failure, the red welts etched across Lucinda's tender flesh had seemed so deep. She felt a fresh burst of energy and quickened her tongue.

"One minute," said Marta firmly.

Marta watched the light in Victoria's eyes change and smiled thinly to herself. The slave was in the desperation phase now. Her eyes, big as pie plates, were practically pleading for her to cum. The mistress had a bad moment when she saw a fat tear leak out of Victoria's left eye and drop in to her public hair. Marta had a thing for tears and pretty girls. At that moment, the raw, atavistic dread radiating from the Victoria's eyes almost pushed her over the edge.

But she controlled herself.

"Time's up," said Marta blandly, pushing Victoria's face away roughly.

Victoria sat back on her haunches and looked down at the floor, then looked up at Marta. She opened her mouth to speak.

"Don't beg, Victoria," said Marta, almost gently. "Nobody passes the first time."

Victoria looked back down at the floor. She began to cry softly.

Marta stood and walked over to Lucinda. She was all business now, a commander in charge. She pulled her panties, now wet with the girl's tears, off of the young slave's head.

"Stand up, hole," she said sternly.

The slave stood slowly. She had stopped crying, but her expression remained pained.

"Don't bother getting dressed. Go back to the house through the backyard and tell the crone we're having company. Set another plate for lunch," she ordered.

Marta looked down at Victoria. She was openly sobbing now.

"And tell her to rig the hook for a whipping."