Liza neared her secluded home on a late evening, and on the last stretch back to her cabin, she moved like someone who urgently needed to use the bathroom. The trees were shoved aside roughly, her feet slamming the slaves inside her slippers as all her grace was gone, jogging back home.
“You little slaves…” Liza’s pant was half fatigue and half lust. “Mommy needs a very good effort from you when we get home. Anyone who doesn’t do everything I say will spend an entire week sleeping from the hooks.”
Garrick would be grateful to simply be out of this slipper, to lie on that bed and sleep undisturbed. He’d do whatever she asked.
The sound of the waterfall by the lake was dimly present. Liza touched herself as the cabin came into view, and as excruciating as it had been inside her slipper, Garrick wasn’t sure being tied to her panties like Harry was much preferable.
Liza hurried up the steps and barged through the front door, stumbling through with one hand on her crotch and the other on her breast. The pouch of coins she’d been paid were clamped under her armpit. She appeared feverish, ailed by disease. Hand on the back of a chair for support, she bent forward to unlatch the straps of her slippers. Then she kicked them free, allowing the cool and fresh world to greet the four slaves thereunder. As she shuffled her way to the hallway, they weren’t any less stuck to her soles, glued from the cum and with Garrick and Martin even having their arms tied around the big and second toes. Liza threw the pouch of coins to a table in the hallway, landing with a metallic rustle.
Her destination was the special room Garrick and Martin had seen once, with the small wooden poles on the ground, the large, gurney-looking table, the vaulting bench, and the exceptionally large cabinet. The light from the evening sky made the room semi-gloomy, the faint blue light preventing complete darkness. Liza slammed the door behind her. With a tug, she drew the neckline of the gown over her shoulder, then shimmied the other shoulder out of it. She shivered and chortled maniacally, pulling the thing down, with hints of frustration at the end as she kicked the darn thing off her calves.
Her bulging, bloated pussy was literally dripping, and half of Harry’s body along most of the panties had been stuffed inside its ravenous mouth. His head and left arm were sticking out from the pink lips, his hair hanging in soaked tendrils.
“Every single one of you,” Liza said, biting her lip. “Lick!” Slave Four and Three delivered their love to her fourth and third toes while One and Two, their human-shaped prints visible on the bra, put their mouth on her nipples. Lastly, Harry leaned up and caught her clit with his mouth. Liza’s spine straightened like a rope pulled taut, a short cry slipping out of her, followed by a laugh. She moved over to the cabinet, opening a compartment and bringing out of a thick blanket. All the while, Liza was plagued by sporadic bouts of involuntary movement as the mouths of those slaves delivered a symphony of mouth-work that would sometimes converge into a single burst of pleasure, making her wince as if braving to touch ice-cold water.
Liza whipped the blanket out over the floor, then brought a pillow out, tossing it to the end of the rectangular blanket. She almost missed, coordination thrown off by a zap of ecstasy. However, her head snapped down quickly, eyes suddenly wide and strict. They alternated between Garrick and Martin. “Slave Six and Seven. Did I not make myself clear?”
They wriggled as much as their bindings allowed them, shouting into their muzzles.
“Oh, that’s right.” She held her anger at bay. Liza bent forward, her stomach and breast fluttering with unexpected breaths. Her index and thumb undid the tie around their head, tossing the muzzles aside. Garrick and Martin licked her big toes, and that spiked Liza’s delight more than they expected. Liza leaned against the cabinet, and Garrick realized the toes had likely never gotten used to having a slave’s head near them for so long without being kissed. They had been tantalized all this time.
Liza moaned, eyes closed with shoulders hunched up. “Naughty little slaveboys.” Liza proceeded with her preparations, bringing out several candles and placing them an arm’s length away from the blanket’s periphery. Using matches, she lit them one after the other, and despite having trouble moving from the paralyzing pleasure, she whispered at them not to stop. Ten candles were lit around the blanket, and Liza drew the curtains of the window. The candle-lit glow provided a cozy, romantic air in the room.
Liza drew her bead necklace over her head and tossed it to the pile her gown was left in. She undid the braided bun and let her brown hair fall down, fluffing it out with her fingers like a lady preparing herself for a ball. Liza eased the bra down, releasing those globular breasts, and indeed, much like the four slaves at her feet, Slave One and Two were glued to her breast from their own dried cum. Her nipples were stiff, the slaves taking care of them with their mouths. “Ah, fuck.”
The panties were the last obstruction, along with Harry who was tied to them. Biting her lips, she pulled the panties along Harry free from her gluttonous pussy, fingers twiddling with his bindings. It wasn’t quite frustration, but a bubbling of hot passion, and Liza bit her teeth and grunted. She clawed her panties and tore them apart, freeing Harry that way. “You love Mommy’s soft flesh, don’t you?” The question was directed downwards, over the landscape of her gigantic body, prickled with worship. She reared her head up with an excited shriek, stepping past the candles and lying down on the blanket, putting the pillow under her head.
There was no more wait. Liza pumped Harry in and out of her pussy with a speed like it were the ignition put to the gunpowder, and there it became clear how this had been on her mind every minute of her time in town. Garrick couldn’t fathom how someone as horny as Liza could contain herself throughout the day, and now she was compensating for it with vigorous energy.
She moaned the lord’s name as the orgasm crashed through her, her abdomen tense and the muscles outlined. Dimly through her overpowering presence could Garrick hear the tiny, pathetic licks and kisses they all gave her.
“Ah!” She shrieked, masturbating right through to the second and third orgasm. “You’re mine! All of you little slaves, you’re mine, now and until the end of time! You…” A shrill, girly cry tore out as she arched her back, unrelenting on both Harry and her pussy. Her other hand rubbed circles around the clit, and a gusher of her love liquids shot right out. “AAAAAAAAAAH!” If someone were to listen from beyond the door, they’d believe it to be a torture chamber as Liza crashed through a fourth and fifth orgasm. For two minutes straight, she squirted, the force of it alternating between a jet shooting out beyond the blanket and the steady stream threading down under the curvature of her cheeks and dripping underneath. From between the V-shaped spread of her legs, the blanket was stained dark, two of the candles put out from her shots. Garrick didn’t need to do much anymore, the toes were clenched tight, locking his head. At first they acted as shields from the squirt, but eventually it was so profuse that her feet were struck plenty and it coursed down between her toes.
She used the day-long build-up to its fullest and extracted as many orgasms as she could from the situation. Towards the end, she shoved Harry all the way in, ripped Slave One and Two free from her breast and put them on the pillow, then put it between her legs. She humped the two of them against the pillow for the last orgasm, ensuring they wouldn’t miss out on her sweet liquid. After that, her efforts died down, falling asleep with a drunken smile.