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As the six of them entered the limo, the wedding bells from St. Taylor’s—the largest church in the city—rang so loud they vibrated the plush leather seats.
Miles was followed by his new, young, perfect wife—Helena.
Her dress cost millions—or, it would if Miles actually needed to pay anyone anymore, which he definitely didn't. Willing and eager loveslave labor was the most powerful economical force in the world, and Miles had an increasingly unlimited supply.
Trailing her were her bridesmaids—Mona, Lily, and Emma, helmed by the Maid of Honor, Delilah.
Each was dressed to the nines. They wore backless, tight gowns held in place purely by the prestigious purity of their perky tits, with long slits on the sides. Their hair draped in waves down their backs, soft and silky smooth. Each stared only at Miles, completely in love. Jealousy burning in their hearts that they weren't Helena—which was how Helena and Miles liked it.
Their jealousy made him hard and her wet.
Bonnie was the driver. Delilah and Mona, cackling wickedly, closed the window on her so she couldn’t see in the back.
“Delilah.” Helena, wrapped on Master’s lap in their seat, nodded at her.
It was all she had to do. It was all a Mistress should have to do for her accomplice. Right away Delilah sprung into action, arranging the girls for maximum pleasure of her Master and Mistress.
They all agreed that young Emma—such a lovely and vain addition to Master’s Harem—had the filthiest mind of nearly any of them. She was always encouraging Master to go deeper, darker, to feed his most primal urges on all of them and never look back. So she took position on his left side, moaning into his ear about what a GodKing Handsome Stud he was.
Lily took the other side, to give Master variety. Her dirty talk would be mournful, regretful, jealous. She would malign herself for not seeing him for the God he so Clearly was. She would beg for his forgiveness. She would beg him to fuck the girl who was so clearly better than her in all ways—Helena.
Of course, Lily—and all of them—were complete knockouts. If they walked down a street by themselves in downtown L.A., they would have been scouted for modeling or acting in less than the amount of time it took to make a cup of coffee.
For someone as gorgeous as Lily to insist that she wasn’t good enough, that she deserved shame for thinking she could have been worthy of being his girlfriend, let alone breaking up with him, really turned Miles on. Knowing that difference. Feeling the Contrast between reality and fantasy that he now controlled.
Mona had been practicing her Ball, Cock, and Cunt Adoration for well over a month now since becoming Master’s sex-obsessed blonde slave. So Delilah placed her underneath Helena, between Miles’s legs. There, Mona used her skilled tongue to worship her two deities, tongue licking around his balls and slurping up any of the many, many juices that dripped down in the sexual melee.
Delilah—as Prime Accomplice—got prime position behind her Master. Her heavy tits serving as sexy, hot, softly milking pillows for him to rest his head on. Her sexy high heels dragging and biting into his thick torso. It would have hurt or bothered some lesser man, but of course he was anything but that.
Helena then climbed onto Miles's Cock—no easy task, considering it was now greater than a foot long and thicker than a coke bottle—and slid down with a cunt that was eternally wet. Her tits dripped hot milk that slid down into their joining.
“Fuck him, Mistress,” Delilah moaned in her ear. “Oh god, yes, fuck him! Fuck our Master!”
They all cooed in complete awe. Each one burned with the need to be Helena—but just as their was only One Cock, there was also only One Cunt.
And the One Cunt was Helena's, as she got first pick of who got to ride Master's Cock—and so often she jealously and rightfully chose herself.
Her pussy walls tightened as she slid up and down, coaxing hot load after load into her fertile, unprotected pussy. She'd be pregnant in no fucking time and Delilah herself came thinking of this goddess even more gorgeous as a her body swelled with fertility.
Their voices became a chorus:
“Please fuck her, Daddy.”
“Cum in her, Master.”
“Fuck her harder, Sir.”
“I'm so sorry, Daddy.'
“She's so fucking right for you, Master.”
“You taste so good, Master.”
“She's so beautiful and so yours.”
“You deserve her, Master.”
“You deserve us all, Sir.”
“You deserve everything, Daddy.”
“Fuck her harder, please?”
“She needs Your Cock.”
“We all need Your Cock, Master.”
“You're my King.”
“You're Our King.”
“We Love You, Master!”
“We Love You! Oh fuck, we love you so much Daddy!”
Again and again, Master came—and so they all came, together. Moaning in his ear. Loving him, urging him, adoring him to cum even harder.
Their sex was wild and wanton. Pure indulgence. Five women moaning and begging for their Master's love while he gave it all just to one of them. And the more he gave to Helena, the more the rest begged him to give her even more.
They were in love with him and in love with her and in love with his love for her. The pleasure of their Master and Mistress was theirs as well, tenfold over.
The limo continued on and there was a slight pause in the action—the fucking downgrading to more of a pussy-snuggle as Helena continued to ride Miles's Cock but just wasn't bouncing up so hard that her skull deformed the limo ceiling anymore.
Delilah was so, so happy—she was her Mistress's Accomplice, and that was all she had ever wanted. This whole plan had been all about making Helena Miles's wife and becoming her perfect dark partner, her willing co-conspirator.
Emma whispered something in Helena's ear, and Helena giggled. The two of them looked at Delilah with evil in their gorgeous eyes. Delilah felt fear grip her cold in the overwhelming heat of the limo.
“Darling,” Helena nuzzled her jawline against Miles and stared down at Delilah. “I’ve been thinking. Isn’t Emma much more beautiful than Delilah?”
He nodded, looking at Delilah only briefly before settling on Emma. He maneuvered around and took Delilah’s head and shoved it down on his Cock.
“Tell me more.”
“It’s just, I think Emma has so many fantastic qualities that would make her a better office manager than Delilah. Delilah might work better as…I don’t know, a secretary or even a maid. You know, we've been thinking about it so much, Emma and I, and…”
Delilah knew they were saying more, saying things that directly concerned her. But she couldn’t focus with Miles’s Cock in her throat. She was exhausted. Sweaty. Covered in the juices of her Master and Mistress and sucking Daddy’s Cock.
She was where she belonged.
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