Date: Wed, 6 Mar 2013 14:47:37 -0800 (PST)
From: Jane Parks <janeparkshot@yahoo.com>
Subject: Bird Food

Bird Food

Jane Parks

(F/F, f/F, humil.)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction.
None of the characters or events herein are
based on real people, either living or dead.
It was produced for the entertainment of
ADULTS ONLY, and contains descriptions of
explicit sex. If you are not an adult, or if
reading stories of a sexual nature upsets you,
do not read any further! By reading further,
you certify that you have accessed/requested
access to this material wilfully, and that you
are an adult 21 years of age or older. You
also certify that to your knowledge, this
material does not offend the standards in your
area, nor is it in violation of any of local,
state, or federal law.

Sarah Flemming was hunting again.  She liked
hunting.  She liked it a lot.  And she was
very good at it.  Sometimes she hunted at the
dance clubs around town.  Sometimes she hunted
at the mall or at the local grocery stores.
Sometimes in the summer she hunted at the
country club around the pool next to the
tennis courts.

She almost always found what she was hunting,
and, more often than not, she brought her prey
home.  She had been hunting for about three years
now, and she knew that she was nearing the end
of her hunting time.

Soon she wouldn't be able to hunt any more.
That made her a little sad and wistful when
she thought about it.  She liked hunting.  And
she believed wholeheartedly that her hunting
had a real purpose to it.  She was doing what
she should.  She was appreciated.  She was
loved.  She knew that, right now, she could
never seem to rest from the hunt.  There was
always the need for fresh prey.  Brittany had
made that plain from the very first hunt.

That knowledge gave her a strong sense of
purpose.  She felt good about herself when her
hunts were successful.  She had succeeded much
more often than not.  She was a good hunter.
A good provider.

But now she knew she was on her penultimate
hunt.  Or perhaps her ultimate hunt.  Time was
growing short.

She decided to range around in a hunting
ground she had not visited for some time.
There, she was more likely to find fresh prey
because the memory of her hunting among those
who made up her special prey would be less
likely to be strong.  She would not be
expected back there.  She could roam at will,
seeking just the right prey.

Sandy was standing beside a display case full
of pork chops when Sarah spotted her in the
grocery store.  She was a woman of early
middle age and certainly not unattractive, if
perhaps a bit shopworn.  Sarah could see the
concern and confusion on Sandy's face as she
tried her best to puzzle out the per pound
cost ratios of the various packages of chops.
Sarah moved in slowly.

"This unit pricing really is a pain.  Isn't
it?"

Sandy looked up at the tall, slender woman
standing right next to her as if she had been
caught trying to steal one of the packages of
meat.

Sarah placed her warm hand lightly on the
other woman's forearm to ease her down a bit
and to reassure her.  Sandy almost flinched
from Sarah's touch.  But she didn't move away.
And that was a good sign.

"What?  What were you...?"

Sarah smiled sweetly and gave Sandy's arm a
friendly little squeeze.  She noted that the
other woman still had not pulled away.  Good
sign.

"Here, honey.  This one right here is the best
value for the money.  I buy these all the
time."

Instead of being miffed that she was being
goaded into buying a certain package of chops
by this perfect stranger, Sandy meekly placed
the offered package in her basket.

Another good sign.

"Thank you," she said with just a hint of
diffidence in her voice."

"What's your name," Sarah moved a little
closer.  Sandy suddenly wanted to step back
out of this intimidating woman's space, but
the display case blocked her.  She began to
tremble just a little bit.

"What's your name," Sarah insisted.
Sandy tried to stare the woman down, but
failed miserably.

"What's your name?"

Sandy looked sheepishly at the other woman.

"Sandy," she said her name just above a
whisper.

"My name is Sandy."

Sarah placed her other hand on Sandy's other
forearm.  She looked around the store.  Nobody
else was anywhere near the two women.

"Sandy, my name is Sarah.  I think we should
leave now.  Don't you?"

Sandy looked as if she were just about to be
hit by an oncoming truck.  What was happening
to her?  What was this woman doing to her?

Why was her pussy starting to itch?

Sandy was scared.  Scared of what this woman's
closeness was doing to her.  At last, she
recognized the danger and tried to pull away,
but Sarah held her arms tightly down by her
sides.

"If we don't leave right now, Sandy, I'm going
to embarrass you right here in the store.
Make up your mind.  Either get your purse out
of the shopping cart and follow me out of here
or get down on your knees in front of me right
now."

Sandy shook her head, trying to clear it.  She
didn't want to leave with this woman, and she
didn't want to kneel in front of her either.

But her legs began to buckle of their own
accord as she slowly sank down to the floor
despite anything she could do to make herself
stop.  Sarah held onto her arms and just let
Sandy sink to the floor on her knees.

"Put your face in my crotch, Sandy.  Smell
me."

A part of Sandy's mind remembered that she was
in the middle of a grocery store, but the rest
of her mind compelled her to thrust her face
right between Sarah's slightly parted thighs.
Sandy inhaled deeply and breathed the other
woman's sex scent into her nostrils.  Sarah
smelled sooooo good.  So enticing.

Sarah observed that other shoppers, other
women, were beginning to gather around.  She
would have to bring her hunt to a close
quickly before someone interfered.

"Get up, Sandy.  I can see that you want to
leave with me.  Get your purse and let's go
right now."

So saying, Sarah lifted a dazed Sandy up by
her arms until the other woman was standing
fully erect.  Like an automaton, Sandy reached
into her half-full shopping cart, retrieved
her purse and meekly followed Sarah out of the
grocery store.  Several women who regularly
shopped there quickly stood aside and allowed
Sarah to lead her prey out the door.  Then
they resumed their shopping, breathing little
sighs of relief and thanks that they had been
spared what Sandy had not been spared.  They
had heard stories about Sarah and her hunts,
and what happened to those she caught.

Sarah led Sandy to her car and opened the
passenger side door for her prey to get in.
Sandy now just couldn't keep her hungry eyes
off the other woman as she went around and got
in on the driver's side.

"Pull your skirt up around your hips, Sandy.
I want to see your legs."

Sandy began to pant as she lifted up her
bottom and pulled her short skirt up above her
hips.  Sarah could see a hint of pastel pink
cotton framing Sandy's labia.  She smiled.
"Unbutton your blouse all the way down so I
can see your breasts."

Sandy moaned quietly in the back of her
throat, but she did as ordered.

Sarah drove out of the grocery store parking
lot and onto a residential street, never once
taking her eyes from the road.  She could hear
that Sandy was following instructions just
fine.

"Lie across the console and put your head in
my lap."

Sandy sighed deeply as though she had been
waiting for this moment all her life.  She
leaned over the console and placed her head in
Sarah's lap.  Then she bent her knees slightly
so that her legs and bottom would rest on the
passenger seat.

Sarah took her right hand off the steering
wheel and began softly stroking the other
woman's hair.

"How old are you, Sandy?"

Sandy sucked in her breath.  Maybe she was too
old.  Maybe when Sarah found out how old she
was she would make her get out of the car.

"I'm 43," Sandy said in a small, diffident
voice.

"That's just right, Sandy.  I'm 38.  So that's
just right."

Sandy breathed a great sigh of relief.  Sarah
wasn't going to put her out of the car.

Sarah continued to drive one-handed while her
right hand explored, and stroked, and, teased,
and did whatever it wanted to do.  Sandy lay
there with her head snugly in Sarah's lap, her
eyes tightly closed in embarrassment and
humiliation as she let herself be felt up by
this total stranger.  What was wrong with her?

Why did she need to do this so badly?  Why did
she feel so secure and wanted for the first
time in her life?  Why did she tremble
whenever Sarah touched her breasts, or her
tummy, or her panties where they peeked out
from under her skirt?  Why?

"You like my hands on you.  Don't you, Sandy?"

Sandy kept her eyes closed tight and sighed.

"Yes, Sarah, I like your hands on me."

Sarah looked down at the woman whose head was
in her lap.

"Call me Mistress Sarah from now on, Sandy."

Sandy sucked in her breath, then let it out in
a little gasp of purest serenity.

"Yes, Mistress Sarah."

Sarah chuckled to herself.  Her hunt was going
so well.  And soon she and her most recent
prey would be home, where she could feast.

This one had been so easy.  So easy.

When the car finally stopped, Sandy opened her
eyes.  She could hear the garage door opener
running and she could see the light around her
grow dim as the garage door closed.  For a
brief moment, Sandy panicked.  Where was she?
What was going to happen to her?  Then,
Sarah's reassuring hand began stroking her
hair once more, and she was content just as
before.

"Let's go inside the house, Sandy."

Sandy slowly raised up off of Sarah's lap and
waited for the other woman to come around the
car and open her door for her.  She felt so
weak.  The two women went inside Sarah's house
with Sarah practically holding Sandy up.

"Do you want to make love to me now, Sandy,"
Sarah said softly, huskily as she led her
latest prey to her bedroom.

"Yes, Mistress Sarah," Sandy said out of a fog
of submissive lust as she walked along feeling
as if she were on air.  She was so
lightheaded.  She wanted to do anything that
Sarah wanted her to do.  She was sure of that.

Sarah had set loose something inside her.
Something profound that she didn't even know
was there.  Sandy had been like a timer going
off.  And now was the time.

Sarah pulled Sandy into her bedroom and closed
the door softly behind them.  Then, she sat on
the side of her bed.

"Undress me, then, slut."

At the sound of that word, Sandy wriggled like
a little girl with a new doll as she stood
before her new Mistress.  That's exactly what
she was.  A middle aged woman plucked right
out of the grocery store to service Sarah.  To
do her bidding.  To become her slave slut.

Now that she was aware of her deepest, darkest
desire.  Now that it had been made clear to
her what she really was and who really she
was, Sandy couldn't wait to prove herself.
She tugged on Sarah's tight-fitting top until
it came away from her torso and then over her
head.  She didn't even stop to notice that
Sarah was braless as she scrambled to unsnap
and unzip her predator's slacks and yank them
off her Mistress's body.

"Close your eyes, Sandyslut.  I don't want you
looking at me until you yourself are
completely naked.

Sandy did as she was bidden and practically
tore the clothes off herself until she was
totally naked, standing shyly and expectantly
before her new Mistress.

Sarah liked what she saw.  So would Brittany.
She was sure of it.  Brittany liked them
older.  She said it made it more fun for her.
"Now you may look at me," Sarah said in a
strong, commanding voice.

Sandy opened her eyes to see Sarah lying
completely naked on the bed on her side with
her right knee bent and her left straight.
Her smooth tanned skin was bathed in the
diffused light coming from the partly open
window drapes.  Sandy saw immediately that
Sarah was beautiful; long legs, flat belly,
large firm breasts, ample hips, round bottom,
flawless skin.  As she took it all in, a part
of her wished desperately that she looked
better for her new Mistress.  She knew that
she had begun to sag a little in the breasts
and in the bottom.  She knew that her hips
were getting a little fat.  She lowered her
eyes in embarrassed shame.  Nobody had wanted
to see her naked in so long.  She had just let
herself go.

Sarah didn't give her time to dwell on her own
thoughts.  She imperiously patted the bed with
her hand in a silent order for Sandy to attend
her.  Sarah fell to her knees and placed her
face just below Sarah's navel.  Sarah
languidly reached out her hand, grabbed Sandy
by the hair and pulled her forcefully onto the
bed and toward that secret place where she
wanted Sandy's attention to be paid.  Sandy
did not pull back.  She wanted to go there.
She wanted it in the worst way in the world.
As she began to nuzzle and lick, Sarah flexed
her knee and pressed her hips against the face
of the submissive woman who was servicing her
so sweetly.

"Ummmmmmmm.  That's just right.  Have you ever
done this before, Sandy slut?"

Sandy pulled away just far enough to answer.

"No, Mistress Sarah.  Never before."

Sarah chuckled softly to herself as she
pressed the other woman's head back right
where it belonged.  Her other hand began
toying with Sandy's erect nipple, pinching,
teasing, tweezing, making Sandy squeal softly.
On and on it went.  The feast game that always
came after one of Sarah's hunting trips.
Sarah was such an expert at drawing out the
last full measure of humiliating
submissiveness from her prey.  She had had
years of practice.  Sandy was her reward for a
good hunt.

But all good things must come to an end, and
Sarah finally allowed herself to flash over
the edge.  She gripped Sandy's head between
her powerful thighs and humped her face until
she came, and came, and came some more.  Sarah
cried out in ecstasy and triumph.  She has
brought yet another prey down.

Sandy didn't hear the bedroom door open, but
Sarah did.  And she smiled as her fifteen year
old daughter Brittany approached the bed.

"Is she ready for me now, Mommy," the young
girl said softly.

Sarah looked over at her little girl, all
naked, and beautiful, and ready for her own
feast.  Not so little any more.  Not at all.
Brittany was a beautiful little girl now.  Not
like three years ago when the hunting started.
Then, she had been a gawky, shapeless little
estrogen explosion, wanting, needing, but
unable to hunt for her own prey.  Unequipped.
Inexperienced.  So, Sarah had done her hunting
for her.  Had caught her prey and brought it
home to her.  Feeding her just like a mother
bird who continuously and selflessly feeds a
baby bird until the baby bird grows up enough
that it can catch and eat its own food.

Sarah looked lovingly at Brittany as she
reached out her hand to touch Sandy's naked
flesh.  Soon her little baby hunting bird
would take wing and begin her own hunts.  Soon
she wouldn't need mommy to bring her feasts
any more.  Soon.  Very soon.

Sarah sighed a deep, wistful sigh as she
thought about her future and her daughter's
future.  Soon, Brittany would be bringing home
the prey for her mother to feast upon, just as
Sarah had done for her for the past three
years.  Soon their roles would be reversed.
Soon.  But not just yet.  No.  Not today.

"Yes, Brittany.  She's ready for you."

Sandy could barely hear what was going on
around her, so closely did Sarah hold her head
between her legs, and so intent was she on
finding and devouring every last drop of her
new Mistress's secretions. So she was
completely taken aback when Sarah allowed her
to pull away from her erotic task and she saw
the naked young girl standing by the bed and
suddenly realized that it was Brittany's hand
on her body and not Sarah's.  Panic and
overpowering degradation filled Sandy's mind.
Who was this girl?  Why was she here?  What
had she seen?

But Brittany had learned all about how to hunt
from her mother.  And she knew that her mother
was the best huntress in this velt.

"What's your name?"

Her small hand began to coax, and tease, and
tantalize.

"What's your name?"

Sandy began to breath in little pants.  Oh,
God.  Why did she need this so much?  This was
so sick.

"What's your name?"

Sandy lowered her eyes.

"Sandy."

Sarah and Brittany smiled.  The young had to
learn how to hunt for what they needed.  And
who better than their mothers to teach them
how best to hunt?  And Sarah could see that
Brittany had learned her huntcraft very well.
Very well, indeed.

As Sandy slid submissively to the floor of
Sarah's bedroom and began kissing Brittany's
bare feet, Sarah stretched, got up from her
bed, and eased toward the door.  While she
loved to watch her daughter feast, she knew
that Brittany was old enough now not to need
any further guidance from her.  And she knew
that Brittany was old enough not that she
needed time alone with her prey to consume her
in her own personal way.  Yes, she really
didn't need Mommy any more.  She could hunt
for herself now.

As Sarah closed the bedroom door to allow her
daughter some privacy with her prey, she
speculated on what kinds of prey her little
girl would bring home to her soon.  And she
smiled as she heard Sandy squeal and cry out.
She liked them young, and Brittany knew it.
Motherhood was wonderful.  Wasn't it.  It held
so many rewards.  Didn't it?

This work is copyright (c) 2002 by Jane Parks.
You may download and retain a copy for your
personal use as long as the author's byline
and e-mail address and this paragraph remain
on the copy. Please do not post this story to
any web site without permission from the
author. All other rights reserved. No
alteration of the contents is permitted.

Jane Parks can be reached at:

janeparkshot@Yahoo.com