Stolen Wishes 4 (Stud) (Patreon)

Chapter Four:

Amina had only known Frances for a few short years, but she had never liked him. Her parents had relocated to the United States shortly after marrying, but they had only moved into Frances’ neighborhood when Amina was in middle school. Her father had gotten a new, better paying job, and this was a vertical move for them. Amina and her sister both were lavished with tales of the sorts of lives they could afford, and Amina had looked forward to it.

Frances had always been heavy set and crude, and even in middle school, she would often catch him leering at herself or at her mother. She hated it. She hated him. His hungry gaze was proof to her that her mother’s abaya didn’t work. Amina was supposed to wear one, too. It was meant to prevent the lust of the men around her, to draw their gaze away from her and hide her sinful body. Nothing Farah did could avert the male gaze. Only her father seemed to show Farah the respect she was due as one of Allah’s children. Everyone else lusted.

“You should be more patient with that boy,” her mother had said in her polite but chiding tone. She spoke as mothers often do, with infinite patience but insistent expectation. Amina was in the kitchen with her after school one day and had been complaining about Frances’ behavior on the bus. This was before Amina had joined a chess club at school and before her father picked her up and drove her home every day. “You know that his parents are not at home for him.”

“That doesn’t make it okay that he’s so…” Amina avoided details. She did not want her mother to know that she knew anything about sex. Her mother was strangely protective of both of her daughters. Amina knew that Farah wished for them to wear their abaya but would never force them. She was understanding of their plight as children of immigrants, and she did not want to isolate them. “He’s just weird, mom.”

“Perhaps, but that does not make him bad,” said her mother imploringly, and she gave her that motherly look that offered no room for argument. “Many would consider your father strange, but he is the best man I know.”

“Frances isn’t dad, mom, and I’m not interested in marrying him.”

Her mother gave a smile and a small laugh. “No one is asking you to marry him,” said Farah as she wiped the countertop clean. “Frances may be strange, but you do not need to marry him to be kind to him, and you know that.”

“I know, mom, I know,” said Amina, and her mother hugged her and kissed her on the forehead, and Amina smiled. “I’ll try be better to him.”

“Thank you, dear. That is all that I ask.”

“I need to speak privately to Amina,” said Farah that morning while Amina and her father had their breakfast. She was behaving strangely and avoiding eye contact with them both as she spoke. “I will take her in to school after we are finished.”

Abdul, Amina’s father, had given Amina a cursory glance, and Amina had shrugged in response. “I understand,” Abdul had said, and he left it at that.

Amina’s father was a skinny, short man of infinite kindness and patience. He was well-suited for her mother, Amina thought, as both were people of endless love and grace. She envied them, even if she didn’t always agree with everything they said or thought. She knew they were good, and she was grateful for having them. Their bottomless love and goodness was half the reason she still believed in Allah in a country where the only god that people worshipped was a god of sex and money.

After that, Amina ate quietly and watched her mother. Amina felt odd that morning, anyway, and would like to have a conversation with her mother about the changes her body was undergoing. She had went to bed nearly rail thin and woken up with budding, womanly curves. She was not upset, and she understood their origin. Her own mother was a voluptuous goddess that no robe could hide, but Amina had thought she would be like her father instead of her mother. Her sudden breast growth and thickening thighs and rear were unexpected, though not entirely unwelcome.

They saw Abdul out, and then Farah led Amina back inside. Amina watched her mother, who had still yet to look at her, and asked, “What did you need to talk about?”

“You’ll want to change,” said Farah with a faraway look in her eyes. “You’ll want to be comfortable for today.”

“Mom…?” Farah did not look at Amina, and Amina was growing increasingly worried by her mother’s strange behavior. “Mom, what is going on?”

“I’ll be back in a minute,” said Farah, and as she sashayed out of the room, she added, “Go get changed.”

Amina did not get changed but decided to wait in the living room. Her mother was acting strange, but she was always graceful. Amina sat on her phone in the living room, and her mother said nothing to her about her outfit when she came back. “You’ll want to leave that here, I think,” said Farah, and she looked at Amina. She looked sad, so Amina obeyed and placed her phone on the table.

“Mom, is everything alright?”

“It is…fine,” said her mother with some effort, and she put on a smile that failed to hide her sadness. Amina noticed her mother wearing a thin, silken choker with a chain attached. She carried the chain bunched up in her hand. To Amina, it looked almost like a leash. “Come,” said Farah. “We must go.”

“Where are we going?”

“You will see.”

After that, Amina followed her mother next door to Frances’ house. There, she was met by Frances and his mother Sharon. She was stripped and eaten to a climax, and then she had her asshole taken and seeded by Frances afterward. She was exposed to more pleasure than she had ever experienced before while her mother watched and degraded her, and most frighteningly, she enjoyed it.

The next morning, Amina was on her back naked while Frances squatted on her face. She was holding him by his big, fat bottom while she sucked his balls, and her mother stood naked beside her and stroked Frances’ long, impossibly thick, veiny cock. Frances was laughing and shaking above her, but he took care not to place his weight on her as she slurped him.

Farah was smiling as she stroked him, and she cupped Frances’ head and ran her fingers through his greasy red hair as she nursed her dark nipples. Amina’s body looked more like her own today than it had the day before, and while she doubted that the lamp could take a petite girl like Amina and turn her into a Muslim goddess like Farah, she was impressed by the power it had already shown in changing her daughter.

Sharon was there, too. She was seated beside the bed in a lounge chair and rubbing herself vigorously. Her easy orgasms had already wetted and stained the chair, but she did not care. She had no appearances to keep up anymore. Affluence and influence no longer mattered to her. Frances was all that mattered to any of them, and Sharon knew that. Amina was learning that as she held Frances, and she kept her eyes closed to really enjoy the smell and taste of him without distraction.

Holding Farah around the waist, Frances pushed her away and removed himself from her teat with a pop. Then, smiling at her, he pulled her into a kiss and let her drink him before he turned his gaze down on her ball-gobbling daughter. “There, I think I’m ready,” he said, and he dismounted from Amina and moved around the bed.

Amina watched him with a distant, dizzy smile. She was over twenty-four hours away from having her hair burned and becoming a genie, and while she was not nearly as dick-drunk as her mother or Sharon, yesterday’s early morning anal reaming had done a lot to warm her up to Frances. She watched him move with open affection and found herself absently wondering how she had ever thought of him as anything other than handsome.

Frances stopped at the edge of the bed and pulled Amina to him by her hips. Amina squealed in delight and helped him hold her shapely thighs apart. He gazed at her glistening gash. Her pubic hair was thinner than his mother or her's but was dark like Farah’s. Frances mounted her on the bed and eased his crown between her folds, and when he felt her wetness, he grinned. “And I think she’s ready, too.”

Amina’s body moved on instinct as she clutched his back and widened her legs. She looked at her mother with glassy-eyes and whispered to her, “He’s going to fuck me, mom. He’s in my pussy right now.”

“I know, my flower,” said Farah, and she smoothed Amina’s hair and smiled down at her daughter. If she had reservations about giving Amina to Frances, she did not show them. In fact, she leaned down to kiss Amina on the forehead and told her, “You are his now, and so this is his right. You want this, don’t you?”

Amina nodded silently and chewed her bottom lip like an anxious child, and Farah grinned. She was about to see her daughter deflowered, and she could not be happier. She patted Amina’s head and whispered to her, “Then tell him, my love. Tell your master how badly you want him. Tell him that you are his to pluck and use as he pleases.”

Following her mother’s suggestion, Amina looked up at Frances and blushed. He appeared pale and sweaty with his cock resting at her entrance, but he was waiting with a smile on his pink face. She moved one hand to caress his slick cheek, and she giggled at he wheezed above her. “Frances…Master…Please, take me and…And please, use me. Fuck me hard like you’ve fucked our mothers. Stretch my pussy like you stretched my asshole. I don’t know why, and I no longer care why, but I want you. I want you to own me, and I want you to be pleased with my body.”

Frances did not speak, but he took her with a smooth stroke. He was getting better, not that it mattered, and he was lasting longer, too. His hips forced Amina’s legs wider apart as he drove his thick cock home inside of her, and she moaned and gasped and smiled with delight as her eyes went wide. She came on him, and he could feel her flexing and massaging him with her tight, teenaged pussy that was so different and yet decidedly similar to the other pussies he had known and used.

She moaned. “Oh, master!”

“I own your pussy now, too, don’t I Amina?”

“Yes,” she hissed, and she hugged him and moaned into his neck as he drove into her again. Every movement seemed to drag the pleasure straight from her, and she lost track of when she was coming and when she wasn’t. It felt like a lurid dream as his heavy balls came slapping into her butt cheeks, and Frances smiled at Farah as he took her daughter.

“Like mother, like daughter,” he told her, and he took hold of Amina by her dark hair and pinned her head to the bed with his hand. “Come here, slut,” he whispered, and he kissed her like he kissed Farah. Amina kissed him back with giddy delight. She kissed him like she had a crush on him, and she wrapped her legs tight around his hips and urged him into her with each stroke.

Amina drank him like Farah did, and she tightened further, flexing and hugging him as their tongues danced. When Frances pulled back, he gathered saliva and spit it into Amina’s open mouth, and she drank it with glee before showering his chin and neck and shoulder with kisses while he hammered her. Hugging him, she stared past him at her mother’s delighted smile, and she crooned and ran her fingers through Frances’ thick red hair. “Mama, he’s so big inside of me! I’m so full! Mama! He’s so good! Is it always like this?! Can a man always do this to you?!”

“No, my flower,” said Farah patiently and with a hint of amusement in her voice. “No. Only our master can.”

“Only our master…?” Amina lowered herself to stare into Frances’ pink, huffing face, and she kissed him again. This time, the kisses were light and placed purposefully on his cheek and on his forehead. She held him to her bosom, and she moaned, “I love you, master. Fuck me, master! Fuck me! Fuck the shameless, slut daughter of Abdul and Farah Marwan!”

“Oh, fuck,” Frances grunted, and he thickened inside of her. Though he had developed some stamina, her words and her devotion were too much. Her tight pussy had already coaxed him to the edge, and now that she was praising him and degrading herself, he lost it. The way he could change her was too much and intoxicated him, and soon he was hammering without rhythm as his hips grew tired and leaden with his approaching orgasm.

Amina squealed with delight. “Oh, mama! He’s so close! He’s fucking me so hard!”

“Good,” purred Farah, and she caressed her daughter’s hair and held Frances’ hand tight in Amina’s dark locks. “Then let him do it. Let him seed you, my flower. Let him use you. This is what we are now. This is what we live for. Delight in it and praise him, for Allah has given you your beauty for this purpose.”

“Yes,” Amina shouted, and she hugged Frances as he finished inside of her. It was like with her bowels but different, and she luxuriated in the warm throbbing of him as he filled her with his seed. She had leaked for what felt like hours the night before, and then she had ached for even longer. She wondered what recovery would be like for her pussy but did not truly worry over it. Her body was his to use and break as he pleased, and she was proud to have been broken by him once already.

Frances did surprise her, however. He gave her a few good shots and then withdrew. Panting and gasping, he straddled her again and stroked the rest of his cum onto her pretty face. Amina smiled for him and was delighted to see his large, pulsing cock. She even kissed and licked his cockhead for the first time while he stroked himself. Eventually, he grew tired and breathless, and Farah joined them. She let Frances lean into her and whispered to him as she stroked what remained in him onto her daughter’s panting face and into her daughter’s eager mouth.

“That’s your daughter,” he gasped to Farah, and he struggled to form words.

Farah smiled at him and at Amina, and she guided him into Amina’s mouth for her daughter to clean him. “She is. She is my shameless little flower, and I have never been prouder of her than I am now to see her sucking your penis clean, master.”

“Oh God, that’s so wrong,” he said, and he laughed. “You were crying about it just the other day.”

“I was being foolish and sentimental,” she said matter-of-factly, and she smiled and kissed her master lightly on the nose. “I was wrong, master, and I am glad to see that she has not had to waste her time on a lesser man like I did.”

Frances laughed again and turned his grin down on Amina, who was semen-soaked and smiling at him with his spent dick at rest in her mouth. “Hear that, Amina? Your mom regrets wasting her time on your dad.” He cupped Farah’s ass as he taunted Amina, but he could see no hurt register in the younger woman’s features.

“It’s true,” said Farah as she stroked him. “And she must know it, too. No man can compare to our master, and she should take pride in knowing that includes her father. He is nothing compared to you, Frances. He is nothing to us. Not anymore. Isn’t that right, Amina?”

Amina purred around Frances but did not speak. He could see from the look of animal delight in her eyes that she did not disagree, however, and leaned into her to force her to choke on his dick. Amina really liked that, and Frances had to extricate himself from the duo before he grew hard again. He looked at his mother and beamed as he said, “That lamp is amazing.”

Sharon smiled at her son’s delight and delighted in him now as she always should have. “It really is,” she purred, and she sat there lazily rubbing herself while her son climbed from the bed. His fat cock slapped wetly between his fat thighs, and all three women were enthralled by him.

“Farah, here,” he said, and he snapped his fingers at her like she was his dog. She joined him with leash in hand and stood demurely beside him as he regarded his other two genies. “I’m taking her to shower with me. You two get dressed and go out. I want you to come back with collars and leashes like hers, and lingerie, too. I’ll text you the address before you go, mom.”

“Yes, master,” crooned his mother, and she climbed from the lounge and helped Amina up onto her elbows. The two shared a smile, and Sharon said, “He’s big, isn’t he?”

“It’s incredible,” said Amina, and she laughed afterward. “But I feel like I can’t walk.”

Sharon laughed, too, and pulled the teen to her feet. “I understand, but our master does not like to wait. Let’s hurry and hope that we can come back to find him in a giving mood.” Sharon looked Amina over and said, “Though, you’ve already been given yours for the day, haven’t you?”

“Now, now,” said Amina with playful discontent, and she put her hands on her hips. “I still have two more holes to fill, thank you very much!”

Days passed, and Frances fell into a comfortable pattern. He rarely went to school and saw no reason to change that, and his mother permitted his choices. He was, after all, an eighteen-year-old adult with a massive cock who had fucked her into submission. Legally, he could make his own decisions about his future, and at this point in their altered relationship, he could ask her ask her for anything, and she would give it and be happy for the sacrifice.

Farah was happy and serviced Frances daily. She visited him and let him visit her, and she opened every inch of herself to his use. Every day made her more willing and drove her deeper into depravity. She sometimes missed prayer, and she sometimes felt far away from her faith and from her home. Sometimes, when she was alone, it would worry her, but she found comfort in Frances and gradually told herself that Frances would be her new home.

Amina adapted quickly and wore her collar and leash proudly. She let Frances use her and would visit him whenever she could. Like her own mother and like his mother, Amina was deeply loyal to Frances and grew more affectionate toward him as each day passed. It helped that her body was reprogrammed for him and seemed ready to serve him at a moment’s notice. He owned her, and though she originally found it difficult to conceive of, she was happy to be owned.

Frances had just returned home after a day spent with Farah and was waiting for his mother to arrive as he watched Lincoln’s house. He thought a lot about Lincoln and about Autumn, and he often spotted them together as they came and went. Lincoln was keeping his word and was courting Autumn, and Autumn seemed happy, but the sight of them together took everything good that was happening to Frances and turned it to ashes in his hands.

He wanted revenge, and he knew exactly what to do to get it.

Watching through his front window, Frances spotted Lincoln at home with Autumn, and he spotted them leave together. He also saw them kiss before they got into Lincoln's car, and that was something he could not forgive. Revenge could wait no longer, he decided, and as soon as they were out of sight, he left his home to go and fetch one of Autumn’s hairs from Lincoln’s home.

Lincoln’s mother was there, but she let Frances in. He and Lincoln had been fast friends when they moved into the neighborhood. Lincoln’s mother, Shoshana, was a pretty but harassed older black woman. She was single, and she worked hard to afford a home in such a nice neighborhood. Frances did not know where her husband was or even if she was ever married. His mother said quite a few things about the gentle black woman, but Frances had never put stock into them.

Frances had spent his life without his mother’s love and so never knew what love looked like. As a result, he never knew what hate really looked like either. Lincoln had hated him almost their entire friendship, and Frances did not know until Lincoln had him on the ground kicking his ribs. It wasn’t until he took Farah and saw how she looked at him once she was made to love him that he realized how much hatred had surrounded him.

Having the adoring gazes of Farah, Amina, and his mother fixed on him for these last few days changed Frances, and it made him aware of the hate that Shoshana had for him. The moment she saw him, she deflated. She looked tired, but she always looked tired. Today, she looked like she did not have the energy to entertain him, but she put on a weak, forced smile and showed him in anyway.

Shoshana’s false warmth as she showed him in irritated Frances and distracted him from the task he came with, but it also gave him new intentions that held equal interest for him. He regarded the plump woman and remembered what the lamp had done to his mother, and he grew excited.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you about,” said Shoshana with no hint of longing, but she did smile afterward as she looked him over. “You’ve…grown.”

Frances followed her gaze to his belly and felt briefly self-conscious. He hid his frown behind a masking smile and spoke carefully to avoid exposing himself and said, “Yeah, Lincoln has been busy with Autumn lately.”

“He has been, hasn’t he,” said Shoshana with mixed pride and cruelty. She was twisting the knife, and they both knew it. “Unfortunately, Frances, Lincoln’s not here. He and Autumn just left, actually.”

“Darn,” said Frances in mock frustration, and he let some of his hurt show just enough to make it believable. He could see her disdain for him growing and threatening to spill over, and a part of him could understand it. He did not know what it was like to be black in America, but he did know what it was like to be reviled by the people around him, and he could imagine how difficult it was for Shoshana, a single black woman with a child, to find a place in a neighborhood where people like his mother were ready and willing to judge every aspect of her.

His understanding, however, did not breed forgiveness. It just made him angrier that she would treat him with the same indifference, and it further fueled his desire for vengeance.

Shoshana was trying to push Frances out of the door, and he knew it. He had to think of an excuse to stay, and he realized exactly what he could say. “Well, I suppose I should go, then. Sorry to bother you.”

“Oh, no problem at all.” Shoshana lied through a thin smile. “It was good to see you!”

“Uh, I’m so sorry to ask, but could I use your restroom real fast before I go?”

Shoshana hesitated, and her good mood was fading quickly from her face. She forced another smile as she turned away from him and said, “Of course, Frances. You know the way.”

“I do,” he told her, and he went down the hall. Frances walked the hall toward what was supposed to be the guest bathroom but ducked into Shoshana’s bedroom and snuck into the master bathroom instead. He searched quickly and with a frantic hammering of his heart, and he was able to find some of her broken, tangled black hair tucked into a corner. There was not much of it, and he was afraid it would not burn right, but he had to use it. He took it, and he snuck out with a quick thank you to her.

Frances was outside before he sent Farah a text. He saw his mother was at home waiting for him as he left and looked forward to unloading his frustrations into her body. He asked Farah to burn the hair for him the next day, and she responded quickly with a promise to do that and an offer to burn it that evening. Frances expressed surprise to her and asked about her husband, and Farah assured him that would not be a problem. So, he text his mother that he would be home late, and she sent him a photo of her naked body with her pussy lips held open for him and told him that she would miss him. Frances responded with a promise to use her before bed.

He felt nervous as he approached Farah’s home, and he clutched Shoshana’s hair tight to his chest as he knocked. Farah met him at the door with a smile on her face and her collar around her neck. “Master,” she purred, and she kissed him on the lips as she handed him her leash. Frances had used her all day, and still the very sight of her had him stiffening. She was simply that beautiful.

Farah showed Frances into the living room and took the hair from him. Amina was waiting there in the lingerie she had bought with his mother, and like Farah, she wore her collar and leash. She approached him with a smile and kissed him, and she offered him her leash like her mother had before her. Amina was different from her mother but every bit as obedient. She was shorter, but that made the curves she had developed appear more pronounced on her small body. Unlike Farah, she did not wear an abaya or hijab. She walked the house half-naked when he was around or in lingerie, and it turned Frances on to have reduced her to that.

“Good evening, master,” said Amina with a smile, and she held his hand while he held her leash. They watched Farah go to the lamp and untangle the hair. She fed it carefully through the flume and lit it, and then turned back to Frances with a demure smile.

“And it is done, master. You will have another genie waiting for you in the morning.”

“R-Right…” Frances looked between the two of them and swallowed the growing lump in his throat. He was hard but also very, very nervous. “Are you…Well, aren’t you worried about your father,” he asked Amina, and Amina giggled in response.

“No,” she told him. “Remember, he is nothing to me now.” She looked at her mother, and the two shared a mirrored smile. “Nothing to us,” she corrected.

“Right, but…” He looked at Farah, whose smile had only grown the more confused he was, and he removed his hand from Amina’s hand. “Okay, what in the world is going on here?”

“Should we show him, mother?”

Still laughing the light, bell-like laugh that she had, Farah said, “Yes, dear, I think that we should.” She looked at Frances and said, “Pardon me, master.”

As Farah left the room with her robes swishing, Amina took his hand again and bounced beside him. Her breasts shook and swayed in her lingerie and distracted him very briefly from the anxious bewilderment that was consuming him. “We have a surprise for you, master! I think you’re going to like it!”

“A surprise,” whispered Frances, and he let Amina hang from his arm and hug his arm into her cleavage.

Frances did not have to wait long. Farah returned shortly and brought her husband with her, but Abdul looked very different from how Frances remembered him. Abdul was stripped naked save for a collar about his neck and a leash leading him. He was also gagged and had a chastity cage around his laughably small penis, and he followed Farah without resistance as she led him into the living room to show him off.

The last time Frances remembered seeing Abdul, he was a short, skinny man with a thick, dark beard. His beard was gone, and there was no trace of facial hair left on him. His chest was hairless, too, and so were his legs, arms, and underarms. He looked to be completely smooth and hairless to Frances, and while he had always been skinny, he looked lithe now. His body was gracefully slender like that of a woman’s, and his facial features were softened and more feminine, too.

Frances stiffened to see Abdul like this but also stared with his mouth agape as both Amina and Farah fixed proud smiles on him. “See, master? Do you see what we’ve given you? Do you see how little we care for daddy now?” Amina was nearly vibrating; she was so excited to show off her father. She skipped over with her body rippling and stopped to display her father to Frances. She clicked his plastic cock cage and laughed. “Look at him. Look at how small he is!”

“He, um, he is small.” Frances cleared his throat and looked at Farah for help. “Mrs. M?”

“We were tired of my pathetic husband getting in the way of our, your, happiness. So, we burned his hair, and we made him one of your genie sluts, too.” Farah sighed and slapped the cock cage, too. “I had hoped it would remove this offense for your use, but it appears that it did not. The magic has made him smaller, though, and it has made him softer, too.” She smiled at Abdul with distant pride, like he was a beautiful work of art she had created, and she said, “He is better this way, don’t you think, master?”

“I, think, uh…” Frances struggled to form words as he stared at Abdul. It was not that Frances was gay, but he was hard for Abdul. More than that, seeing Abdul subjugated like this made Frances feel powerful. Farah’s actions proved her devotion to Frances, and the fact that she took the initiative to enslave her own husband for Frances was perhaps the sexiest thing he had ever seen her do. Gay or not, Abdul was now one of his genies because the actions of his own wife and daughter. They had betrayed him for Frances, and that was the sexiest thing of all.

“And there’s more,” said Amina with a teasing grin, and she sauntered over to Frances with a womanly sway of her hip. She cupped him through his pants and rubbed him, and she smiled back at her mother over his shoulder. “He’s hard, mom, like I said he would be.”

“I can see that, dear,” said Farah, and she spoke with a deep, barely restrained hunger in her voice. “Stop bragging and tell him.”

“Tell me what,” asked Frances, and he stood dumb and still as he watched Amina’s firm bottom flex and jiggle with each step she took. She returned to her father and took his leash from Farah, and she turned him around to show off her slender, supple rear and the furry tail that they had plugged inside of it.

Amina smacked her father’s ass, and it jiggled like a woman’s might. “He still has a penis, but I think he’s secretly a woman at heart now,” she said, and she smiled at Frances. “So, you don’t have to worry what it would say about you if you wanted to give him a go.” Amina held her father’s ass cheeks apart, and I could see him holding the plug inside of him and flexing around it. “He might feel just like me, after all.”

“Fuck,” Frances gasped, and he stared with his jaw hanging.

Farah chuckled and joined him. She cupped him through his pants on arrival and then deftly opened his pants. In a matter of moments, Frances was out and stiff in her hand as she stroked him. She rested her chin on his shoulder and whispered to him, “You own this house now, Frances, and there is no need to deny yourself any pleasure you might please. You can take him, if you like. Just like you took Amina. Just like you took me.”

Frances groaned. “Mrs. M…!!!”

Watching him stare and feeling him throb in her hand, Farah bit her bottom lip and looked at Amina and her husband. Abdul had never been a particular masculine man, but he was barely a man now that she had burned his hair. She had thought Frances would not have the interest in Abdul, but Amina had been certain, and it seemed Amina was right. Farah held Frances by his thick root and called across the room to Amina, and she said, “Amina, my flower, bring your father over to see our master so that he might know what a real man looks like.”

Amina giggled and led her father by his leash. “Come on, daddy. Let’s go see the dick that stole your family from you.”

Abdul followed gagged and caged, and he stopped in front of Frances and let Amina guide him to his knees. His eyes were fixed on Frances’ dick, and he stared with the very same animal hunger that Amina and Farah had. Frances did not know how long ago Abdul’s hair had been burned, but this was not new. He had to have been stewing for days to be this hungry for Frances, and it made Frances feel almost bad for him.

Frances stared at Abdul while Farah stroked him. His dick was only inches from Abdul’s face, and Frances felt certain that the older man was sniffing the air for his dick. Frances swallowed again and cupped Farah’s rear. He squeezed it hard for comfort before asking Amina, “Do you think he wants it?”

“He must,” said Amina, and she gestured toward him. “I mean, look at him.”

Farah smiled and rubbed Frances’ sticky crown along Farah’s soft, baby smooth cheek. “Why not ask him?”

“What,” whispered Frances, and then he realized what she meant. He found Amina waiting for permission and nodded at her, and she smiled and removed her father’s gag. Abdul began panting with saliva running down his chin as he stared down Frances’ dick. He moaned as Farah rubbed Frances’ slick knob along his brown lips. His skin was so soft that Frances could hardly believe he was a man. Frances moaned, “Do you want my dick, Abdul?”

Abdul whined against Frances’ dick and, when Farah held Frances still, Abdul kissed Frances’ cockhead and moaned. “Yes,” he growled in a decidedly soft voice that was hardly like his own, and he sucked Frances into his mouth with a mewl. As he retreated, he purred, “So good!!”

Frances’ head lulled as Farah guided him forward into her husband’s waiting, willing mouth. Frances moaned, “Fuck!!!” Looking down, he watched Amina guiding Abdul while Farah guided him, and he squeezed Farah’s ass even tighter as he tickled Abdul’s throat on each forward stroke. “Fuck! Look at him, Farah! Look at your husband sucking my dick! He’s as hungry as you and your slut daughter!!”

“He might even be hungrier,” teased Amina, and Abdul gurgled around Frances as his saliva foamed and ran out around his lips.

Farah, still stroking Frances, purred. “Of course he is. He hasn’t gotten to have you yet, master, but look at the two of you. Amina, my flower, remove your father’s cage. Show our master how little my former husband has.”

“Yes, mama,” said Amina, and she released her father and moved to unlock his cage. Abdul did not stop sucking. If anything, he threw himself into Frances with greater vigor, and once his dick was free, he moaned like an animal as Frances forced his throat open. Amina laughed and flicked her father’s tiny, stiff little dicklet and said, “Look how small he is! He’s so pathetic!”

“And he’s hard, too,” said Farah, and she kissed Frances on the cheek as she held him steady by the root. “Look at that man, master. He knows that there is no comparison between the two of you, and he knows that it is better to be a woman for you than to try and fail at being a man beside you. He’s your pet now, master. He’s your animal slave. He is your genie, and he will grant your wish just as sure as Amina or I or your mother will.”

“Grant my wish,” whispered Frances, and he took hold of Abdul’s head and slowed him. Abdul stopped to look up at Frances, and he stared Frances’ in the eyes as Frances set his pace. Just like with Farah and Amina, there was no resistance. The look he gave was not like Shoshana’s or his mother’s old stare. Abdul loved Frances as much as his wife and daughter did. “Will you grant me any wish, Abdul?”

Abdul, mouth full of rigid, thick teenage dick, moaned and choked himself on Frances, and all three of the people watching him understood. Amina clapped her hands in delight and jiggled again as she bounced in place. “Good job, daddy! That’s the right answer! I’m so proud of you!”

“Yes, dear, you’re doing very well to serve our master,” said Farah. To Frances, she asked, “And what is it that you wish of your new slut, master?”

“I want to take him as I’ve taken you and your daughter,” Frances said, and he stared defiantly down at Abdul as he choked the older man with his dick. “I want to make him squeal like the slut he is.”

“Good,” whispered Farah, and she held Frances until he released Abdul.

Together, Amina and Farah moved Abdul into position. They put him on the ground with his face against the carpet and his ass in the air. Then, each of them took hold of Frances with one hand and held Abdul’s slender ass cheeks apart with the other. The moved Frances and guided him up against Abdul’s waiting rectum, and then they let Frances fall into Abdul.

Abdul came hard upon Frances’ entry and remained erect afterward. His semen was thin and watery compared to Frances, and he gave so little of it no one but him noticed. His asshole, meanwhile, flexed around Frances as Frances took him to the root, and then they stayed like this while Frances sat, gasping behind Abdul while Farah and Amina showered him with kisses.

“How is it, master,” Amina teased, and she rubbed her breasts up against Frances’ fat body.

Frances groaned. “He’s tight, like you!!!”

“It is good that he can please someone, then,” said Farah, and she swatted her husband hard across his pillow soft bottom. “I was worried that this man would be good for nothing once we burned his hair.” She took Abdul by his thick, dark hair and lifted his head while he panted and drooled like an animal in heat. “And how is it for you, slut?”

Saliva dribbled down Abdul’s slender chin as he stared, glassy-eyed, at the smoking lamp, and he whined. “So big! He is so big inside of me, my love! He is stretching me so wide!”

Farah dropped his head back into the carpet with a sneer. “I have no love for you anymore,” he said, and she leaned into Frances and lifted her abaya to offer him her breasts. Cupping his head, she fed him one large, stiff brown nipple and mewled as she watched Frances fucking her husband. “Mm. The only real love I have left in my heart is for this man!”

“Hear that, faggot,” growled Frances, and he slapped Abdul’s ass and moved him by his hips. “Your wife hates you. Your daughter wants to see your guts rearranged by my dick, and all you can do is moan as I ram you. How do you like it, being a woman for me?!”

Abdul groaned and clawed the carpet. Entry had stolen his strength from him, as had arousal, but another orgasm gave him the strength and clarity to move. He braced against the carpet and began moving against Frances to meet his thrusts. “I love it,” he howled, and he rocked into Frances’ hard thrusts with equal enthusiasm and a manic smile on his face. “It is no wonder to me that my wife and daughter prefer you! I prefer you, too!”

Frances, shocked by the admission, thickened inside of Abdul and smacked him hard again as laughter boiled through his big, round body. He took hold of Abdul by his thick, dark hair, and he pulled Abdul’s head back as he rammed the poor, slender man. “I’m the man of the house, then, Abby! Got it?!”

“Yes,” hissed Abdul, and his tiny dick shook from the force of Frances’ thrusts. He felt Frances thickening inside of him and whined as his daughter, Amina, came forward to cup his head to her bosom. Abdul took care not to salivate on her perfect, swollen breasts. After all, she and Farah both belonged to Frances and not to him. He did look up at Amina with pleading eyes as he whispered to her, “Amina, dear, my darling, my little flower, he is close. He will flood me, and then I will be his woman for real!”

“I know, daddy, I know.” Amina, holding her father’s head, smoothed his hair as her mother had smoothed hers, and she smiled sadly at the man she used to revere. “He had done the same to me, daddy. It is good. You will be happier this way. We all will.”

“I know,” he told her. “I already am. AH!” He winced and then remained still as Frances finally buried himself in and finished. Abdul’s insides ached to accommodate Frances, but his own orgasm was more than worth it. Besides, he reminded himself, I am his genie now. This is what he was for.

“Amina,” croaked Frances, and he waved her over.

Amina released her father’s head and went to Frances, and she stared up at him with big, brown eyes and asked, “Yes, master?”

“Clean him,” gasped Frances, and he cupped Amina’s head and forced her into her father’s ass. Amina moved as instructed as Frances withdrew, and he slapped his spent cock down across her cheek as she took to cleaning her father. Semen spewed from Abdul directly into Amina’s open and waiting mouth.

Farah smiled. “What a sweet girl, helping her father like that.”

“Very sweet,” said Frances, and he swung his dick and slapped Amina a few times before using Farah to help him stand. He swatted Farah’s ass. “Go prepare a shower, and I’ll call my mom,” he said. “Tonight, I’m staying over and enjoying you three.”

Frances grunted and finished inside of Farah’s asshole. Hers was the last one in the house that he needed to take, and he decided to finish his collection before bed. His mother was over there with him and spending the night in Amina’s room. Abdul was asleep on the floor, collared, leashed, and caged like a good pet. He stirred as Frances finished, though, and peeked over the bed to find Frances still buried inside of his wife’s large, round rear.

The two were well suited for each other, Abdul thought, and he smiled to see them like that. “Master,” he called carefully, and when Frances looked at him, he demurred and asked, “Is there any way that I might still serve you?”

“You can,” he told Frances, and he dragged Frances to him and forced him into Farah’s asshole as he had done to Amina earlier. “Clean her,” he said, and he slid from the bed. “Mrs. M?”

Farah, face down on the bed, rose and stared at him with glassy, fatigued eyes. The sex had been good, but she was tired after such a long day. Still, she smiled at her master and said, “Yes, master? What do you wish of me?”

“I am going to go see Amina and mom and let them clean me, and then I’ll drag them back here.”

“Of course,” she whispered, and she laid down in her folded arms with her eyes closed as sleep threatened to take her. “Whatever pleases you, master.”

Frances smiled and rubbed her big, bouncing rear while Abdul worked his tongue in her. “When you’re done, Abby, you’re back on the floor.”

“Yes, master,” Abdul moaned, and his tongue never left his wife’s ass until she was clean.