Laker Girl 10 (Patreon)

It didn’t take Tory long at all to get used to being an anal whore—not when she’d been one all along, just waiting to find out. She loved doing it, loved being used that way, and she especially enjoyed giving herself to Sam—as often, as hot, as much as Sam wanted.

She would spread her cheeks at the drop of a hat and Sam would ram into her as soon as the buttplug was removed. Tory loved it. Sam loved it. Tory loved that Sam loved it and hoped, a little, that Sam didn’t give a damn that Tory loved it. Somehow, that would make it hotter… Sam only fucking her, only using her, and Tory coming so hard despite being nothing more than a whore.

But just because Tory wouldlet herself be fucked at the drop of a hat and Sam wanted to fuck her at the drop of a hat, didn’t mean they could fuck.

One night, about a week and a half after Tory had moved in and countless orgasms since she’d become Sam’s plaything, Daniel worked late, missing dinner. But there were still three of them to enjoy Amanda’s meal. Mother, daughter, and maid.

“Tory, what’s that face for?” Amanda asked inquisitively, her spoon picking up a scoop of mashed potatoes. “You look like you missed a sale at Macy’s.”

And she started cutting her pork chops.

“I’m horny,” Tory replied, looking directly at Sam while she nibbled some salad. “I’m so goddamn frustrated you wouldn’t believe it.”

Sam was chewing on her own wad of salad, but she looked pleased with herself.

Amanda cleared her throat. “Tory, I know that Mr. LaRusso isn’t here, but I think we should be in the habit of only discussing things at the table that have a communal—”

“Didn’t you hear me?” Tory demanded of Sam. “I said I’m horny! I want you to fuck my ass! I want one of your strap-ons sodomizing me! And I want you to play with my pussy. Do I have to be any clearer than that?”

Sam swallowed her food. “I get it. But you can wait until after I’ve finished eating. You should keep your strength up too.”

Amanda reached over to pat Sam’s hand. “Thank you, Samantha. Make sure you eat your peas.”

“Yes, mom,” Sam drawled, only modestly sarcastic.

Both Sam and Tory skipped dessert. They took a quick shower and, on Sam’s orders, Tory shaved her legs. She didn’t rush, but went over them until they were as smooth as calf leather. Sam was soft and slick herself by the time she stepped out of the shower and Tory felt up her shapely thighs immediately. Sam reached down between Tory’s legs and felt at her slit. It was as warm and as wet as she could’ve hoped for.

“On second thought,” Sam said, “I think I will have dessert.”

She sat Tory down on the edge of the bathtub and tongued her pussy into a frenzy. Tory held her bobbing head under her hands and let her moans resonate through the tiled bathroom.

“Ooh, God, Sam! Do it harder, mistress! Really lick me good! Sam, I love you!”

She pressed her toned thighs closed on Sam’s cheeks and a moment later, she came. Sam emerged, her chin dripping with Tory’s cream. She playfully tossed Tory a towel before splashing her face at the tap.

“Go to my bed and assume the position,” Sam said. “We’re not wasting that sweet little ass of yours anymore.”

“Yes, mistress.”

Even if Tory wasn’t so supremely addicted to the feeling of being ass-fucked, she wouldn’t argue with Sam. She was too hot to get fucked, in whatever position that Sam wanted her in. She only hoped that Sam would always enjoy the erotic spectacle that she made: down on all fours, her sex and anus showing past the silky smooth curves of her sculpted ass. And from the way Sam acted, her appreciation of Tory’s ass hadn’t diminished no matter how many times they’d fucked over the past couple days.

Sam crouched behind Tory, her strap-on freshly adjusted into place, its tip pressing against Tory’s puckered little anus. Holding Tory’s buttocks with both hands, Sam spread them apart to make the entry easier—for her, at least. With her strap-on glistening wetly from Vaseline, she pushed its head into Tory.

Tory felt the first inches of the strap-on shove their way into her rectum. Her anal opening was tight at first, but it quickly returned to the fucked-open state that Sam preferred it in. She knew, as her body seemed to, that Sam could fuck her as deep as she wanted to go, as fast and as hard as she wished to do it. Tory and her fat ass would just have to take it. And no matter how much it hurt, Tory loved taking it.

She moaned excitedly as Sam slid deeper into her. It was a tight fit, tighter than before. Sam had switched to a bigger strap-on than Tory had ever been on the receiving end of, but within a few short minutes, Sam had worked her dildo up to the hilt in Tory’s trembling ass. Tory felt the heat of Sam’s labia, prickling the furthest swelling of her creamy ass. She moaned again at the thought that Sam had fully impaled her, but that her fucking had still only just begun.

Sam kept her cock buried between Tory’s buttocks, content for the moment to keep it still and feel it quiver as Tory’s anal passage adjusted to the enormous size of the penetration. Reaching down under Tory, she caressed a supple breast, squeezing it gently, while her other hand stroked Tory’s pussy. Tory hummed contentedly, pained, but loving it—and knowing soon she’d feel the ecstasy of truly being ass-fucked by her mistress.

Then the telephone on the nightstand started ringing.

“Could you get that?” Sam asked with sadistic solicitude, putting her hands on Tory’s waist to emphasize that she wouldn’t be moving—that neither of them would be moving—until Tory had obeyed the implicit command.

“Yes, mistress,” Tory moaned, picking up the phone. Thinking of all the TV shows she’d seen where rich-ass teens like Sam sprawled out while talking endlessly on the phone with their friends or boytoys. She wondered how many ever chatted while in this position: doggy style with her mistress’s big strap-on in her ass.

“Hello? Oh… hi, Mrs. LaRusso. Yeah, Sam’s here, but she’s indisposing me… I mean, indisposed. Uh-huh. Sure, I’ll tell her. Can I…? No? Okay. I’ll let her know right now. Goodbye. Oh fuck,” Tory sighed as soon as Amanda hung up. Her asshole was really starting to throb lustfully around its violation.

Sam took the receiver out of her hand and put it back on the handset. “What was that about?”

“Your Mom. She says she needs you to babysit for one of her friends tonight. I asked if I could come along.”

“What’d she say?” Sam asked, hands once more on Tory’s tits, her pussy, cock still in her ass.

“What’d you think she said?” Tory asked, pouting despite the fact that Sam had worked her up nearly to orgasm.

“Poor baby,” Sam cooed in sympathy. “Tell you what. Why don’t you take your phone and snap a few pictures for me of your gaping asshole while I’m gone? I want to be sure your hole doesn’t close up on me after I’m done fucking you open. In fact, why don’t you wear your plug? Take it out each and every hour and send me a photo so I know your hole is still open for me; every hour, on the hour.”

Tory felt Sam’s groin press against her buttocks. She moaned passionately, both at the idea of Sam looking at her ass all throughout her evening of babysitting, and at the feel of having the strap-on rutting even deeper into her asshole. That moan gave Sam all the encouragement she could want.

Sam leaned back, pulling her cock almost entirely out of Tory. When she shifted forward again, the strap-on slid in much easier than before. Tory groaned, feeling like her whole body had been molded to suit how Sam wanted to fuck her with the huge dildo.

But as good as it felt, Tory found herself really looking forward to showing off her ass to Sam—proving to her with every hour that she was a good girl and her ass was still gaping as wide as Sam had left it.