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Layla loved summer: the hot sun, the sandy beaches and the soccer season.

Layla was 21 years old and had just finished her second year of college on a soccer scholarship.

To pad her resume and because she loved soccer, Layla had volunteered to coach one of the girl's advanced training camps.

Layla was a jock in every sense of the word. She was tall, slim, small breasted, 34b, and had long tanned legs. Her blonde hair was always in a ponytail and her eyes were a hypnotic aqua blue.

She was also a lesbian and had known and accepted her sexuality since she was a teenager. Although she looked sweet and innocent, her looks were incredibly deceiving. If ever the old saying 'Don't judge a book by its cover' was true, Layla would be the perfect example. Behind that sweet facade was a domineering seductress. This should not be a surprise. She was an extremely aggressive player on the soccer field; her behaviour in her personal life was no different. She was captain of her varsity soccer team and thus always in charge; not surprisingly, she also had to be in charge of her love life.

In truth, she got most aroused not by being physically pleased, but instead by having her white lovers, her sexual playthings, submit unconditionally to her. The problem she had was that all her submissive playthings were young, inexperienced and dumb. They were no challenge and thus after the initial thrill of having some uppity chick pledge allegiance to her perfect body, little thrill came from having them submit. Oh sure it was fun and diabolical to crush some stuck up sorority bitch and make her beg to lick her ass or seduce and awaken the sexual b**st of some shy, reserved southern belle, but the thrill faded fast when they actually submitted and at best were adequate lovers. Then fate intervened....

...

Clara Walsh had lost her husband two years ago in a car accident and was raising her teenage daughter Maddie by herself. Clara had not even considered another man and her only sexual fulfillment was her six inch dildo, the same one she had pleasured herself with back in college. She had no idea of the technological advances in the erotic toy industry.

Clara received a large sum of money from her husband's life insurance, and spent her days writing her novel. She also made sure to spend as much time as she could with her 18 year old daughter, who would be going to college in the fall in New York, thousands of miles away from her.

Clara had raven black hair and green-blue eyes, that seemed to change based on her mood. She was short, at 5'2, and had large, only slightly sagging 40d breasts.

Maddie, her shy daughter, had joined the soccer team at the urgent and constant harassing encouragement of her gym teacher who said she had raw untapped potential. Much to Maddie's astonishment, she loved playing soccer. No one was judging her flat chest, no one knew she used to be fat, had braces and acne and no one knew about her dad's death. She got a fresh start; a chance to create a new persona....

...

Mrs. Sammantha Jones was one of the most powerful women in the city. Her husband was CEO of a major bank, and she was the trophy wife. She was head of the PTA of her daughter's school, head of the parent/grad committee (that just happened) and was chair of her local co-op home association. She spent hours maintaining her perfect body, at all costs. She worked out daily and had very expensive, but impressive, implants. Although in her mid-forties, she looked and dressed much younger. When she and her 18-year-old daughter, Tiffany, were together, most assumed they were siblings. Sammantha dressed as a rich trophy wife should: dresses, heels, stockings, jewellery, all the accoutrements. She always looked perfect and always attempted to be the center of attention.

As usually is the case, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Tiffany had the same red hair; the same sweet seductive green eyes; and the same bright smile and Angelina Jolie lips. Tiffany also had the same 'I am better than you' attitude and the same diva complex. Tiffany tried out for soccer for one reason and one reason only: boys. At her high school, soccer was second in popularity to cheerleading. So, of course, Tiffany was captain of her cheerleading squad and goalie of her soccer team. She was incredibly flexible and quick, but, playing goalie she didn't have to do all that exhausting running. Much even to her surprise, she not only liked it, but was damn good. The goalie was the heart of the team and thus so was Tiffany.

...

The first week of camp was all work and no play. Actually, the balls didn't even come out till Wednesday. It was simply a gruelling week of intense physical tests. Layla believed she knew who the real soccer players were based on the first week. True players don't bitch; they just work their asses off. After day two, Layla had already concluded that the girl with the most potential was Maddie. She worked her ass off and never let down for a second. Such dedication greatly impressed Layla and the naughty side of Layla wondered if Maddie would make a good little sub.

On the contrary, after about twenty minutes of the first day, Layla also knew who the biggest pain in the ass was going to be. Tiffany sauntered onto the field like it was a runway and complained instantly about Layla's 'endurance is key to victory' philosophy. She even went so far as to suggest that she should get different treatment because she was a goalie. If Layla thought Tiffany was bad, her mother was even worse. As she repeated on numerous occasions, she had paid very good money for her daughter to get the best soccer camp and hadn't paid all this good money to watch her daughter run. Layla played nice to her face, but was already considering her as a great MILF to seduce and control. She was bossy, bitchy and stuck-up, the type who, Layla had learned, desperately needed to be broken. Layla had learned early in her sexual prowls that the more confident and dominant a girl acted in public, the more likely it was that she was sexually weak. Layla looked at the mother-daughter pair and wondered how much fun it would be to Domme them both. Layla smiled deviously as she thought about it.

...

Week two saw their first game, and Layla surprised many when she didn't start Tiffany, but the weaker, but harder working, Sally. Tiffany had a meltdown and her mother a similar one in the stands when she realized her precious was not in goal.

Layla, though, just smiled through it all, her decision having a double purpose. First, to make a statement to Tiffany, her mother and the team: hard work pays off and Layla played favourites to no one. Secondly, just to fuck with Tiffany and her mother, and to create the conflict that would trigger Mrs. Jones' journey to becoming her submissive little MILF slave.

To make matters worse for young Tiffany, Sally played extremely well, making a few big saves in a 2-0 victory.

Maddie was the offensive star with a brilliant individual effort that scored their first goal and set up Carrie for their second goal, late in the match.

If Layla looked forward to crushing the Jones girls, she was also greatly intrigued by the sexy, shy and reserved Mrs. Walsh. Layla couldn't explain it, but there was something remarkably sexy about her. She dripped sweetness like maple syrup, yet had a raw sexiness that Layla felt certain was just lying dormant, dying to break free. Layla envisioned a much different seduction with this sweet, innocent MILF.

As expected, when the game ended, Mrs. Jones was chomping at the bit to have a discussion with Layla. Layla coolly listened as Mrs. Jones lambasted her in front of other parents and spectators. Layla remained calm until the MILF, or as Layla now called her MIPD (mom I plan to dominate), finished her one sided rant, before politely smiling. "This is not the place for this conversation."

Mrs. Jones continued her verbal assault until Layla's smile faded and she said loud enough for all remaining, which was pretty much everyone, "Mrs. Jones, last time I checked I was the coach of this team. So if you don't like how I run the team and the camp, I am sure Mr. Quincy would be willing to refund your money."

As Layla expected, Mrs. Jones was not used to having someone talk back to her and was speechless.

Layla, knowing she had won this tiny battle, turned to her young team and congratulated them on playing a great first game. She finished by discussing a new tradition that already existed in football, the game ball. Layla explained that after each game, a game ball would be awarded to a member of the team who best represented true teamwork. Layla, looking directly at Tiffany, handed the ball to Maddie. Maddie looked like she had won the lottery. Tiffany's cheeks went a flaming red that matched her long hair. Layla, toying with the rich bitch mother, turned around, smiled and winked at her. Daggers were returned. Layla turned her back once again on the pretentious mother-cunt and visited with her players.

Ten minutes later, Layla began to head to her car when she saw Mrs. Walsh in the background, patiently waiting for her daughter. Layla walked over to the shy woman. Layla started the conversation. "Mrs. Walsh, your daughter is one great soccer player."

"Thank you, Layla," she replied, beaming like a mother should when her daughter makes her proud, "and please, call me Clara."

"Ok, Clara," Layla obeyed, "I assume she gets her hard work and determination from you."

The beautiful MILF or MIPS (mom I plan to seduce as Layla referred to her in her seduction plan), shyly responded, "I don't know about that. Her father was the athlete."

"Oh, too bad he wasn't here to see her one-girl show today."

Clara's whole demeanour changed. She whispered, "He died a couple of years ago."

"I'm so sorry," Layla consoled, now feeling slightly awkward. She leaned in and gave Clara a big friendly hug. "If there is ever anything I can do for you," Layla began, before giving a slightly suggestive tone, "and I do mean anything...."

Clara smiled back at Layla, oblivious to any innuendo.

Layla backed up, smiling softly. "I do know one thing she got from you."

"What's that?" she asked, curious.

"Maddie may not get her athletic ability from her mother, but she definitely gets her beauty from you." Layla winked, just as she had to Mrs. Jones, but with a completely different subtext.

Mrs. Walsh blushed, and watched the pretty soccer coach walk away. Clara was not gay nor had the thought ever even crossed her mind, until now. She stared at Layla's tight ass in the soccer shorts until Maddie arrived.

Layla returned to her car and was not slightly surprised to see Mrs. Jones waiting for her, still clearly foaming at the mouth. Layla put on her fake smile. She opened, her tone confident, "Mrs. Jones, I hope this isn't still about your daughter not starting today."

Mrs. Jones' face gave in slightly, not used to not getting her way with her bully tactics. She continued her aggressive approach, "I spend good money for my daughter."

Layla's smile faded and she spoke with authority. "Look Sammantha, it is way too fucking hot to sit out here and argue with you. If you want to continue this, get in my car now and we will continue this conversation at my house."

Before the bitch could respond, Layla began to get in her car. Mrs. Jones, not one to lose, hesitated briefly, but got in the car of the young soccer coach.

Layla smiled, knowing she had the bitch exactly where she wanted her. Once on the road, Layla began the conversation, "Sammantha, it is ninety degrees today, and you are wearing pantyhose. That is fucking crazy."

Sammantha glared at the foul-mouthed college girl. She hated explaining herself to such a nobody, but she explained anyway, not attempting to hide her condescending tone. "Upper class people like myself dress up at all times."

"You can dress up and not wear man-pleasing pantyhose."

The MILF sighed, "Not that it is any of your business, but these are not pantyhose, but rather thigh highs."

Although Layla knew the answer, she asked anyways, "What are thigh highs?"

Answering with a dramatic sigh, "They are like pantyhose, but only go to your thigh."

Layla ordered, "Show me."

The dominant tone of the young girl startled Mrs. Jones, but none-the-less she complied, her attitude still dripping with contempt. She lifted up her dress and revealed the top of her thigh high stocking. "See, this is what fashionable upper class women wear."

Layla, her tone equally full of disdain, responded, "Really, I thought those were what sluts wore."

"Excuse me?" the rich MILF asked, aghast at being called such a name.

"Slut, whore, tramp, the terms are interchangeable," Layla smirked.

They arrived at Layla's dorm. Sammantha Jones' voice went shrill, "How dare you speak to me that way?"

"What way, Sammantha, truthful?"

"I have had enough, take me back to my car," the insulted woman demanded.

Layla laughed while she placed her hand on the MILF's leg, taking the risk she was sure would pay off. "Look Sammantha, it is obvious you want me to fuck you."

"What?" the MILF sputtered, shocked by the blunt accusation, yet she didn't push the pretty blonde's hand away.

"You heard me," Layla clarified confidently, before adding another shocking accusation. "Maybe you are a dyke like your daughter."

Offended, Mrs. Jones defended her daughter, "Tiffany is not gay."

Layla laughed and slid her hand just slightly, but under the skirt of her next submissive. "Sammantha, there are three things I am very good at. The first is anything to do with soccer. The second is being able to tell when someone is a lesbian or lesbian curious, often before they know, like your daughter."

"You have no proof she is a lesbian then," the mother said confidently.

"No, but I can get some, I imagine," Layla replied, even more confidently.

Attempting to be adamant, yet clearly distracted by Layla's hand now moving slowly up her leg, "She is not gay. She is dating a college boy."

So what's the third thing? I can smell when a women is getting turned on like you.


"So," Layla teased, "you are a married woman who is about to come into your daughter's coaches' house and submit to her completely."

"What? I am not," the pretty MILF defended just as Layla's hand reached her very damp pussy.

"Why are you so wet, Mrs. Jones?"

The mother stammered, realizing the control was shifting, "I-I-I am not." Layla shut up the confused woman by shoving her tongue in the MILF's mouth, while at the same time sliding a finger inside the bitchy woman's cunt.

Sammantha didn't break the kiss and rather moaned into the mouth of the soccer coach. She couldn't explain it, but she was suddenly helpless and completely subdued by the pretty college girl. She let out a sigh when Layla broke the kiss and moaned as she felt a finger pump in and out of her long-neglected pussy.

"I will only ask this once Mrs. Jones. Do you want to come to my room?"

Reacting without thought, the horny confused MILF answered, "Yes."

Layla stopped finger-fucking the horny bitch and explained, "If you enter my dorm, you need to understand you must obey every instruction I give."

Suddenly Sammantha was nervous, but horniness and curiosity got the better of her. "I understand."

Layla quickly finger-fucked the MILF for a few more seconds before pulling her finger out. She sucked the juice off her fingers, "Not bad for an old bitch." Layla saw the fury in the facial expression of the powerful mother, yet was amused when no words followed. Layla ordered, "Follow me."

Mrs. Jones sat frozen, stunned by the shocking turn of events. She was infuriated with the treatment she had received from this social nobody, yet an overwhelming large part of her was turned on like she hadn't been in a long time. So although the dignified reaction was to just walk away from this crazy situation, she instead got out of the car and followed her into the dorm. She kept her head down while she passed a couple of other college girls. She again briefly thought of turning and walking away, yet her body had a mind of its own, and right now it was doing the thinking.

Once in her dorm room, Layla quickly peeled off her clothes and, once naked, ordered to the sexy MILF, "Mrs. Jones, get on your knees."

Sammantha reluctantly obeyed, oddly mesmerized by the co-ed's perfectly tanned body.

Layla smiled at the quick obedience of her new slut and explained, "I'm going to have a shower, follow along and wait till I am done."

Humiliation burned through the powerful woman, but she reluctantly began crawling to the young blonde's bathroom. While Layla was in the shower, Mrs. Jones replayed the afternoon in her head and no matter how she did, she couldn't imagine how she ended up in this bizarre predicament or why she didn't just get up and leave. She wasn't a lesbian. She had never even considered another woman in a sexual way before today. Yet there was something drawing her, almost against her will, to the pretty, confident co-ed. She couldn't explain it but she felt the need to obey the blonde goddess and to submit to her. Although she hated admitting it, the dominating attitude of the co-ed had turned her on and the quick fingering had her near orgasm in only a couple of minutes. As soon as she saw her daughter's coach naked, she desperately wanted to touch the girl's small firm breasts and to smell the scent of her shaved pussy. Sammantha shook her head, desperate to get these naughty ridiculous thoughts out of her head. She was brought back to reality when she heard her name.

"Earth to Sammantha. What are you thinking about?" a dripping wet and naked Layla asked.

Sammantha looked up from her knees and was awestruck with the young girl's body. Sammantha worked out for hours every day and her body couldn't even begin to compare with the co-ed's. Looking into her eyes and realizing she was to speak, she answered honestly, "I was trying to figure out why I was here."

Layla chuckled, "Well, that is obvious. You want to be my slut."

"I do not," the MILF responded, insulted at the verbal degradation.

"You don't?" Layla asked. "You are in my dorm room, on your knees waiting for me to get out of the shower, so I think that qualifies as you being a slut."

The rich upper class woman stammered, "I- I-I...."

"Is slut too extreme? Would you prefer dyke?"

Sammantha gasped, "I am not gay!"

"If you say so, slut. This game is getting old. You want to please me. Say it!" Layla demanded.

The dazed and humiliated MILF was not used to being bossed around. She wanted to defend herself and put this young nobody in her place, yet the words out of her mouth expressed the opposite. "Yes, I want to please you."

"And you are a dirty rich slut who needs to be disciplined by me," Layla continued the verbal onslaught.

Mrs. Jones wondered when the humiliation would end as she reluctantly agreed. "Yes I am a slut who desperately needs to be disciplined."

"So you agree you need a Mistress?" Layla asked.

The word shocked her. She stammered a reply, "Um, I don't know."

Layla ordered, her voice flaming hot with anger, "Get up and leave, Mrs. Jones, I don't have time for this insubordination."

Mrs. Jones was startled as Layla walked out of the bathroom. She got off her numb knees and followed the co-ed she had just offended. The words that came out of her mouth shocked her. "I am so sorry, Layla, I don't know what to say."

Now half dressed, Layla dismissed the confused older woman, "Just leave. I will have one of my loyal obedient sluts take you home."

Mrs. Jones stood dumbfounded while Layla made a call on her cell.

"Slut, get your ass over here now," Layla ordered and just as quickly put her phone down. She looked at the MILF she was playing like a fiddle and asked, "What are you still doing here? If it is about your daughter, tell her if she wants to start, she better start working as hard as everyone else. One of my good obedient lesbian sluts will drive you home. Go wait at the front entrance. Now get the fuck out of my dorm room."

A stunned and speechless Mrs. Jones walked out of the dorm.

Like an obedient c***d, she waited to be picked up by some stranger.

Meanwhile, Layla yelled, "Come in, Melody."

A short, brunette entered the room and immediately fell to her knees, as she had been instructed to do anytime she was in the private presence of her Mistress.

Layla smiled and handing her car keys to her sub, she ordered, "Downstairs there will be a pretty older blonde. Please drive her home. If she talks to you, feel free to explain our relationship."

"Yes, Mistress," the pretty slave obeyed, taking the keys and leaving the room.

Layla smiled while devilishly pondering the afternoon's events. If she was right, and she usually was, Mrs. Jones would come to her tomorrow. Oh, how she loved the thrill of the chase!

Melody went downstairs quickly and walked up to the older woman, saying, "Follow me, ma'am."

Mrs. Jones, now desperate to get away, quickly followed, and soon they were back on the road. Mrs. Jones gave Melody the address of the soccer field where she left her SUV, as if Melody were her personal driver, and turned her eyes to the road.

Melody, the sweetheart she was, attempted to start a conversation with the rattled stranger. "How do you know Layla?"

Sammantha glared at the unknown co-ed and responded tersely, "None of your business."

Melody ignored the ignorant tone and said giddily, "Oh, you are one of her subs too?"

"God, no," the snotty MILF bitch responded, "I am not some dumb lesbian bimbo."

Melody was offended by the woman's demeaning words and drove in silence the rest of the way. Once at the soccer field, Melody taunted the woman, "You know ma'am, if Layla decides she wants you, you will be hers."

"That is absurd," Mrs. Jones responded.

Melody's smile returned, her tone dripping condescending sweetness, "If you say so, ma' am."

Mrs. Jones could tell the girl's smug smile was condescending, and quickly got out of the car and slammed the door. The car drove off and a still very rattled Mrs. Jones got into her SUV. When she returned home, Tiffany asked where she had been. The still rattled mother lied to her daughter, explaining she had gone for a massage.

Tiffany asked, "What are we going to do about Coach?"

Mrs. Jones shocked her daughter and herself, "Tiffany, stop being a spoiled brat and start working hard like every other girl on the field."

"Mother," Tiffany began.

"No, enough Tiffany. You are eighteen years old and it is time for you to fight your own battles for yourself. Do you understand?"

Tiffany, almost in tears, never having been yelled at by her mother, nodded her head in understanding.

"Good," Mrs. Jones responded, calming down, "you are the better goalie Tiffany, but Layla expects you to work as hard as everyone else does." Exhausted, Mrs. Jones hugged her daughter, something else she rarely, if ever, did and went to have a much needed shower.

That night, Sammantha tossed and turned, replaying the absurd events of the day in her head over and over. Why had she obeyed the harsh instructions of the young girl? Why did her pussy get so wet while in the presence of the young co-ed? Why didn't she stand up for herself? Lastly, why was she so fucking horny? She masturbated herself to sleep, the thought of submitting to her daughter's soccer coach replaying over and over in her head.

..........

Next day at practice, Layla was happy to see a very different Tiffany. She didn't complain and worked her ass off. Layla rewarded her with praise, "That's much better, Tiffany."

Layla also noticed that Mrs. Jones was greatly distracted throughout the practice, which made Layla smile.

When practice was done, Layla told the girls to have a good weekend, relaxing before Suicide Week: three games and three practices in six days.

The girls groaned and headed their separate ways. Layla asked Maddie, "What you doing this lovely weekend?"

Maddie, usually shy, couldn't hide her excitement. "Two friends and I are going to the lake for a girl's only weekend."

"Very cool. Well, have fun," Layla replied while thinking to herself that means her mother will be home alone. A variety of ideas floated in Layla's head until she was distracted by the voice of Sammantha Jones.

"Layla, may I speak with you?"

Layla couldn't believe the polite tone the overbearing mother used. Layla turned around and smiled, "What can I do for you, Mrs. Jones?"

There were only a few people still left, but Mrs. Jones spoke in a whisper, "I would like to discuss yesterday."

"I see," Layla responded thoughtfully.

"In private," the MILF added, nervously.

Layla said, "My dorm is off limits today, there is some big reunion thing there."

Mrs. Jones offered quickly, "We can go to my house."

"I am not sure you understand what I expect from you," Layla told her.

Mrs. Jones responded, shyly, "Yes, I do."

"You do?" Layla asked, before leaning into the Mom's ear, "I expect a hundred percent obedience. I expect you to be my personal slut."

Her hot breath teased the older woman's ear and a soft bite of the earlobe allowed an eager whimper to escape.

"Yes, I understand."

Her tongue in the once bitchy woman's ear, Layla added, "If I come to your house, I own you. Your mind and body are mine to do with as I please."

The humiliated mother nodded her head in understanding.

Layla continued, "In public you will now call me Miss Layla and in private Mistress Layla. Is that understood, slut?"

Layla thought 'slut may be pushing it', but the defeated mother replied, "Yes, I understand Miss Layla."

Layla smiled at the complete submission of this once high and mighty bitch. "What about Tiffany?"

"She is already on her way to San Diego with her boyfriend."

Layla chuckled, "Soon she will accept that she is a dyke, just like her mommy."

The new MILF sub went even redder, but didn't say anything.

Layla asked, "And what about Mr. Jones?"

This time it was the MILF's turn to laugh bitterly, although Layla noticed a tinge of hurt in it. "He is in France till the end of the month."

"So we have the whole house to ourselves all weekend?" the dominant coach queried.

"Yes, Miss Layla, except for the maid," the soccer mommy confirmed.

"Hmmmm," Layla mumbled deep in thought. "All right, I need to go home and pick up a few things for your training."

Mrs. Jones' face flinched just a tad at the word 'training' and waited further instruction, like a good sub should.

Layla got Mrs. Jones' address and whispered one last time in her ear, "By the end of the weekend, you will be a very different woman." She bit the older woman's ear hard and turned and walked away.

Mrs. Jones stood paralyzed until after her new Mistress had disappeared completely. As she slowly made her way to her SUV, she wondered what she had just got herself into. While her brain contemplated the long term consequences, her pussy juice began to leak through her thin thong.

............

Layla arrived a couple of hours later at the mommy-bitch-turned-obedient sub's house with a duffle bag of toys and other essentials. She knocked on the door and was greeted by a black maid.

Layla asked, "What is your name?"

The older black woman, probably on her 40's, responded, "Tamara, ma'am."

Layla entered the mansion and was briefly awe-struck by the massive estate. She asked, "Does Mrs. Jones treat you well?"

Her facial expression betrayed her words, "Yes, she is a good boss to work for."

Layla didn't push it yet and asked politely, "Tamara, could you please tell Mrs. Jones that Layla has arrived?"

"Yes, ma'am," the chubby black maid responded politely.

Layla surveyed the room while she waited. After a couple of minutes of waiting, Mrs. Jones arrived. "Welcome, Miss Layla."

Layla smiled, "I think your personal residence counts as alone."

Mrs. Jones looked at Tamara, "You are dismissed, Tamara."

"Thank you, ma'am," Tamara replied gratefully.

Layla waited patiently, allowing her new sub this last minute of public propriety. Once Tamara had left the room, Mrs. Jones looked nervously to the confident co-ed, "Welcome Mistress Layla."

"This is a very impressive home, slut."

"Thank you, Mistress Layla."

Having had enough of the pleasantries, Layla ordered, "Take off your dress, my mommy slut."

A small wince escaped the proud woman, but she obeyed the young woman's order.

Layla walked over to the MILF or MIPT (Mommy I Plan to Train) and inspected her body. "For an older bitch, you have kept in amazing shape."

"Thank you, Mistress Layla," the half naked mother of one shivered.

"Let's see those tits, mommy dyke," the soccer coach ordered.

Shaking slightly, the rich mother unbuckled her bra and released her large firm breasts. She now stood in front of this pretty soccer coach in only her nude stockings, thong panties and four inch heels.

Layla pinched the woman's nipples. "Why aren't they hard, slut?"

Sammantha whimpered and answered clearly embarrassed, "They never get erect."

"Really?" Layla asked, pinching harder. "Never?"

The MILF winched from the sharp pain. "Not since I had the implants, Mistress Layla."

Layla moved around behind the older woman and stunned the woman with a sharp hard slap on her naked ass, the thong not covering any of the woman's still impressive rear. "Fuck mommy-cunt, how many hours a day do you work out to keep this body in shape?"

"Three, give or take, Mistress Layla," the humiliated redhead responded, tears now rolling down her face.

"Does your husband fuck you in the ass?"

"Yes, on occasion, Mistress Layla."

"Do you like a nice hard cock in your ass?"

"Only when I am drunk, Mistress Layla."

"Take off your thong, mommy whore," Layla instructed.

Sammantha took off the thin piece of fabric, now standing in only her thigh highs and heels.

Layla inspected her new sub's pussy. The cunt was completely hairless and her lips had a sweet shine to them. "Your pussy seems wet, mommy tramp. Why is that?"

"I don't know, Mistress Layla," Sammantha replied.

"Really? You have no clue?" Layla questioned.

"I can't explain it, Mistress Layla, I wish I could."

"You are so adorable in your complete upper class dignity," Layla mockingly accused. "Take off my shoes for me, slut." Layla lifted her right foot up and allowed the rich woman to be the maid for once. The woman's hand shook slightly. Once the shoe was off, Layla lifted her left foot and the MILF repeated the order. The humiliation continued as Layla insisted she also remove her sweaty socks. The MILF complied. Layla, smiling deviously, commanded, "Clean my feet with your mouth."

Sammantha Jones, one of the most powerful women in the city, looked up at the college co-ed with a look of disgust. Layla could see the woman on her knees contemplating this order. Layla's smile did not falter, and soon Sammantha broke eye contact and took Layla's toe in her mouth.

Mrs. Jones tasted the salty sweat of the girl's foot that had presumably been in running shoes all day. The scent was disgusting and the taste awful, but she obeyed the nasty and humiliating task. Used to being in control, she knew exactly what the co-ed was doing to her. She was making it very clear who was in charge and seeing just how far the MILF would fall. Once done with the first foot, Mrs. Jones heard the cocky voice of the co-ed, "What about the soles of my feet, slut?" Anger bubbled inside the rich upper class woman, yet she obeyed the utterly humiliating task.

After both feet had been adequately cleaned to the liking of the young Mistress, she ordered, "Let's go to your bedroom. I want to fuck my new whore in her own bed."

The new submissive slave began to get off her already sore knees.

"Not so fast, slut. Lead the way. But do so on all fours."

The MILF dropped back to her knees, her face as red as a burning fire. She began the lengthy crawl to her bedroom.

Layla grabbed her duffle bag of goodies and followed her new sub. Her grin seemed permanently burned to her face. She had dominated many women over the years, most with ease, but this one was already becoming her favourite because of her uppity I-am-better-than-you attitude.

Sammantha was mortified at her treatment by the pretty co-ed and even more mortified by the fact that she not only allowed it to happen, but couldn't resist. Her knees were killing her and crawling like a dog in her own home was humiliating. Once she reached her room, she stopped. She didn't know why, but she did. She soon heard the voice of her Mistress complimenting her, "Good slut, you are a fast learner."

Layla walked to the king-sized bed and undressed. Soon she was completely naked. On all fours, Sammantha was in awe of the perfect body of her Mistress. Although the soccer coaches' breasts were small, they worked with the rest of her perfect body. Layla asked, "Have you ever eaten pussy before?"

"No, Mistress."

"Yet, you so eagerly submitted to me. Curious," the blonde beauty pondered.

The older redhead pondered it as well. It made no sense. Yet, there she was on all fours, in her own house, eager to do just that. Eat her first pussy.

"Crawl to me."

The MILF did as she was told, her pussy leaking slightly. Once she reached Layla, she looked directly up and was inches away from the girl's pussy. The girl's scent already lingered in the air. Layla asked, "Do you want to eat mine?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I don't know."

"You are going to have to do better than that. My pussy is a delicacy and needs to be treated as such. A rich bitch like you probably pays a good deal of money for a special delicacy. So I will ask again, cunt. Why do you want to eat my delicacy?"

The frustrated, confused and horny mom really had no idea, but she just said what she was feeling. "I can't explain it. I have never found another woman attractive, usually only a threat. I have never liked being told what to do, but I can't resist anything you say. There is something about you that I am drawn to. All I want to do is please you."

Layla smiled, opened her legs a bit, and said, "Please away."

The inexperienced MILF moved closer and extended her tongue. Other than tasting her own juices off her fingers, or more times than not off her husband's cock, she had never tasted another pussy. Much to her surprise, her Mistress' pussy had a very pleasant taste: sweet and tangy. The more she lapped at the appetizing juice, the more she wanted it. She wanted to bury her face deep into the young girl's delicious pussy, but could not from the awkward position of her kneeling and the co-ed standing.

Layla, on the other hand, purposely chose this awkward and power position. It was incredibly hard to come this way and watching a rookie pussy eater attempt to please in such a position was always entertaining. Layla allowed the new MILF slut to lick her pussy for ten minutes in complete silence other than the odd moan, before she asked, "So, do you like being my little lesbian slut?"

The mother couldn't believe her response, "Yes, Mistress, I love being your lesbian slut."

Layla moved onto the older woman's bed and spread her legs. "Get your ass up here and finish what you started."

The MILF slut obeyed and quickly her head was buried between the lovely soccer coach's legs. Now in a much more comfortable position, Sammantha could get much deeper with her tongue. She opened up her Mistress's pussy lips with her tongue, trying to get deep into her cunt. The juices continued to flow slowly out of the young girl's pussy and Sammantha, determined to get the young co-ed off, slid a finger inside the girl's pussy.

Layla screamed the instant her pussy was penetrated, "Oh yes, my slut, finger fuck your Mistress. Make me come."

Mrs. Jones frantically pumped the girl's pussy with her finger while at the same time licking the young girl's clit. She really had no idea what she was doing, but decided to focus on the clit, because that was what worked when her husband was going down on her. It seemed to be working, as the co-ed's moans began to get louder and more constant.

"Yes, keep fucking me, slut. You will make a good addition to my little harem of whores. Fuck, fuck, finger-fuck me deeper, deeper, yessssssss."

Sammantha felt the girl's legs tense up and seconds later felt the gush of cum she had eagerly been craving ever since she first tasted the beautiful pussy. She eagerly lapped and lapped, attempting to get as much of the girl's cum as she could. She didn't stop until instructed.

"Stop slut," Layla ordered, "I need a few seconds to recover."

Sammantha laid subserviently, between her Mistress's legs, waiting for further instructions, her face dripping with cum. Seconds ticked into minutes before the young Mistress spoke. "Get on the bed on your back, slut."

"Yes, Mistress," the MILF obeyed, hoping to get some much needed satisfaction. The co-ed went back to her bag again and quickly returned with it.

Layla grabbed the MILF's arms and like a veteran cop had her new slave handcuffed to the bed in less than ten seconds. The look of fear in the MILF's eyes was priceless for Layla. Layla reached in her bag of tricks and pulled out a small green vibrator. She turned it on low and slipped it inside the MILF's already very damp cunt. The new slut let out a loud moan. Layla smiled while she continued the light bondage by tying her new slut's legs together, pushing the toy completely inside the horny mommy. Once done, Layla leaned in and kissed her pretty redhead slut. The slut kissed back, already writhing from the toy doing her thing inside her. Layla broke the kiss and announced, "I'll be back in an hour or two. Don't you be going anywhere."

The bound MILF begged, "Please don't leave me like this. Where are you going?"

"Out," Layla shrugged and left the slut bound and with a toy lodged inside her.

The MILF called out for Layla, but eventually quit. The buzzing down below was really getting her horny, a constant buzz, yet not enough to get her off. Resigned to her fate, she tried to move around so she could make herself come. Unfortunately, no matter how she moved, she couldn't get to the next level. Frustration built inside her.

Meanwhile, Layla had not actually left but was in Tiffany's room snooping. Layla searched for a diary, but there was none to find. She went onto the young girl's computer and chuckled when it had no password protection. The first thing she did was search the sites she had recently been on. She was a Yahoo junkie it seemed. She also recently visited a site on soccer goaltending. Going back a few days Layla found what she was looking for. One site she was regularly on was called XHamster. As Layla continued scavenging through the different stories the young redhead goalie had recently read, she smiled. As expected, the majority of the vast majority of the stories were lesbian stories: Bedding the Babysitter, Training Teacher, Soccer Moms, and Presidential Powers. She seemed to like submissive characters and Layla smiled knowing that she would be an easy prey if she wanted...and she wanted. Layla went downstairs and got herself a glass of wine.


She flipped on the TV and turned to a soccer match between the Americans and Germans. It was still scoreless with ten minutes left. Layla watched the end of the match that ended in a draw. She hated that. In her mind, there would be no shootouts, just straight overtime until someone scored. It might take hours, but that is what happens in hockey and she sure couldn't see why a soccer game couldn't be the same. Endurance and fitness were the two keys to success and soccer and it ticked her off when fate would decide the outcome after a lengthy game. She shut off the TV, went to the fridge and grabbed an impressively thick and long cucumber, some whipped cream, and a bottle of wine. She grabbed a couple of wine glasses and made her way back to her bound submissive mommy.


Once she arrived, she let out an accidental howl, "Oh my, you really are a slut, aren't you?"

On the bed, still bound, and dripping in sweat, was the MILF, attempting to cum by bouncing her ass up and down. The sight was so desperately erotic that Layla almost felt sorry for her. The MILF pleaded, "Oh Mistress Layla, please help me cum, I need to so bad."

Layla smiled, walked to the bed and untied the slave's legs and extracted the drenched toy from inside the slut's cunt. Layla, attempting to look naughty, sucked the excessive juice from the toy. She explained, "How bad do you want to come, mommy-slut?"

"Desperately," the horny mother of one responded.

"I will let you come," Layla offered, "with this."

Sammantha Jones looked at the long thick cucumber and although appalled by such a slutty act her words said the opposite, "Yes, please, fuck me."

Layla asked, all sweet, "You want your daughter's soccer coach to fuck you with this long thick vegetable?"

"Yes, Mistress Layla, fuck me with whatever you want, I need to come so badly."

Layla loved the complete submission; things were going even better than expected. Sammantha Jones, the biggest parent bitch of her parent group, was now begging and pleading to be fucked by a vegetable. Layla untied the horny slut, handed her the cucumber and said, "Go at it, slut."

The ravished MILF instantly inserted the wide cucumber in her red hot cunt and began to fuck herself. Her eyes were closed, so she was completely unaware that Layla had pulled out a camcorder and was videotaping the naughty masturbation session. Layla ordered, "Beg to cum, my slut."

The MILF opened her eyes and looked directly into the camera. Her mouth dropped open and she stopped. "Please, Layla, don't tape this."

Layla glared, "Are you questioning me?"

"No-no-no," the sexy redhead backtracked.

"For your slight act of disobedience, you need to be punished," Layla informed.

The humiliated mother put her head down and whispered, "Yes, Mistress Layla."

"Take out the cucumber," the powerful Mistress ordered.

"Yes, Mistress," the slut obeyed, a loud plop escaping the MILF's cunt as the vegetable was released from the slut's tight cunt.

"Clean it up," Layla ordered, still taping.

The once powerful mother opened her mouth and took the sticky cucumber in her mouth. As she sucked off her juice she pondered her exit strategy. Once this humiliation was done, she would have to get the tape. That tape could end her.

"Fuck your ass," Layla commanded.

Sammantha looked back up, her eyes full of fear and stammered, "W-w-w-with this?"

"Is that a problem?"

"It won't fit," the MILF attempted to reason.

Layla went to her bag and returned with a smaller black dildo. "Shove the cucumber back in that old cunt of yours while you fuck your ass with this."

Relieved and horny, the rich beauty took the toy and after reinserting the vegetable in her eager cunt, slowly slid the smaller toy in her ass. A slight pain burned inside her ass, but it was compensated by the fire burning in her cunt. Although awkward, she began to pump both the cucumber and dildo in and out of her two holes, ignoring the still filming camcorder.

Layla ordered, "How does the dp feel, slut?"

"So, good Mistress Layla, I am close."

"Stop," Layla ordered.

The MILF obeyed and cried, "Please, Mistress Layla, can I come?"

"Look into the camera and tell me what you are," the soccer coach ordered.

Past any sort of dignity or caring, the rich, redhead, mother, said, "I am Sammantha Jones. I am a complete lesbian slut who is owned by Mistress Layla."

"Nice," Layla purred, adding, "if you want to come all you have to do is one more sacrifice."

"Anything," the MILF responded, believing it.

"Give me permission to add your bi-curious daughter to my harem of sluts."

Sammantha was not expecting this. She stammered, "I-i-it is up to her."

"So you have no problem of me seducing Tiffany and having her as my personal fuck toy?"

"No," the MILF responded, knowing that she had no power to stop her.

"So I can have your beautiful daughter on her knees begging to be my slave?"

"Yes, she could use some discipline," the MILF moaned.

"So true. I can have your obnoxious daughter between my legs lapping at my delicious cunt?"

"Yes," the mother agreed.

"So I can fuck her pussy and ass with a strap-on?"

"Yes," the mother replied, resigned to their fate.

Layla put a strap-on on her beautiful body and crawled onto the bed. "Ready for your Mistress to fuck you?"

"More than anything," the mother moaned.

Layla pulled the cucumber out of her slave's pussy, left the dildo in her ass and leaned into her. Layla's seven inch cock easily slid into her slave and she started slow. Layla loved to look directly into the eyes of her latest conquests and loved what she saw: pure, unbridled want and submission. Even without the tape, she knew Sammantha Jones was hers.

Her thrusts became faster and deeper as the MILF screamed, "Oh, yes, yes, fuck your owned slut, harder, Mistress, harder."

Layla obliged, pumping all seven inches of the hard plastic cock into her MILF slave.

"Yesssss, thank you Mistress, fuck me, fuck me, fuckkkkk," the sexy redhead MILF bellowed.

Layla buried the cock deep into her sub and lay on top, allowing her sub to have the whole resonating thrill of the orgasm that was currently sending waves through her body.

Sammantha Jones huffed, "Oh my God, that was the most amazing orgasm I have ever had."

"Of course it is," Layla said, pulling out and off her sweaty exhausted slut. Once she had taken off the strap-on cock, she climbed back onto the bed and lowered her pussy onto her MILF's face.

Sammantha licked and licked for an eternity as juice continued to dribble down her face. It wasn't easy to breathe, but Layla would move enough to allow some air.

Layla feeling an orgasm bubbling inside her, began to rub her wet cunt on her slave's face and soon a second orgasm ripped through her body. "Aaahhhh, that's it mommy-slut, you will make a good lez."

Layla rolled off her slut and said, "I'm going to have a shower."

Once her young Mistress had left, Sammantha sat up; her face coated with pussy juice and looked at herself in the mirror. Her make-up was a mess, her hair tangled and her face shiny with cum. She looked like a cheap whore and felt like one too. She grabbed her robe and sat on the edge of her bed and waited.

Layla took a long shower and returned to her slut's room in only a towel. She smiled when she saw the new sub waiting for her. Layla yawned and said, "Slut, I am pretty tired, and I have a very busy day planned for us tomorrow, so I suggest you get some sleep." Layla crawled into Sammantha Jones king-sized bed and got snug under the covers.

Sammantha moved to join her, but was recoiled, "No, no, slut, you can go sleep in your daughter's bed." Sammantha began to leave. "Also, slut, on all fours. Crawl to bed." Humiliated, the MILF obeyed and slowly crawled away.

Layla smiled at the complete subservient obedience of her prize possession. Tomorrow she would try her other seductive move: sweet and sensitive. Tomorrow she would seduce the adorably cute Clara Walsh.