I do not own these characters, and am only borrowing them for AU telling of a fictional tale meant for entertainment purposes only.
Part 1: In which Barney Blunders, and Fred visits the wrong side of the tracks for all the right reasons.
Fred Flintstone stared at the small bag of greenish-colored dust he had just spent part of his hard-earned pay on. Not that it was his first choice, but lately things had gotten a bit cooler than usual between him and Wilma, and Barney and Betty's constant arguing wasn't helping. If anything, his neighbor's antics were only increasing the nagging he got at home.
Frankly, he missed the loving, hot-blooded wife he had known when he first married the redhead with the sultry green eyes. Green eyes that only seemed to glare at him in disgust of late. Sure, he had gotten into trouble now and then, but he had never crossed the one line he fanatically observed. Schemes, plots, and plans were part of life. But he never would have cheated on Wilma no matter how hot the other sweeties might be.
Besides, even after fourteen years, Wilma was still one curvaceous babe herself, as he well knew, smiling faintly as he made his way home, careful of the traffic that seemed to grow more congested every year since he had first moved into the suburb of Bedrock to end up living beside his best friend. And if that wasn't some peculiar coincidence, he didn't know what was.
First, Barney getting married to Wilma's best friend, and then ending up living right beside them.
At first, it was pretty nice deal. A best bud to chat with, to go along to the lodge, or bowling. To share the ups and downs of married life. Only lately, it was mostly downs, and unfortunately, he was starting to realize it was almost always because of Barney. Or rather, that dark-haired, small-breasted shrew he married. Thank God he gotten Wilma instead of that harridan. Now, he just had to bring back the passionate woman he loved.
Whether she liked it or not.
Which was why he had dared go to the nearby urban side of Flatrock where the no-goods hung out and sold things like…..cactus dust.
He tucked the small bag back into his tunic, still unable to believe it was so easy to busy such things in his own city, or state. He thought of Pebbles. Just two now, and wondered what she might face when she grew older. He'd have to keep a real eye on her, because he could already tell she was going to be a looker. Just like her mother.
Wilma, he remembered, had always been gorgeous. Especially when he convinced her to let that long, curly hair down over her shoulders, and lay back to offer her fat, round tits to his eyes, hands, or mouth. Those snug dresses, and too tight bras hid her voluptuous curves most of the time, but he had a private viewing every time she undressed to shower, and dress for bed. And boy did he enjoy watching that show.
Only for the past five months, that was it. Just a show. She would slap his hand when he tried to touch her. Turn her back when he tried to kiss her. He even got yelled at for something Barney and Betty were arguing about lately. Something neither of them knew about, they just knew their mutual best friends were not getting along lately, and suddenly it was all his fault.
Well, not after tonight he mused with growing anticipation. The right and wrong didn't matter as long as he got his Wilma back. He did a lot of checking around, discreetly, of course, and even the webstone pages agreed that a sprinkling of cactus dust, a highly potent, and technically legal drug, could make a person very suggestible, and more importantly, very sexually aroused. Tonight, he smiled as he patted the pocket where that supply of dust rested, he was going to get his Wilma back.
He only needed enough to break the ice, as it were, and get her relaxed enough to be turned on while remembering all the good times they shared instead of Barney and Betty's latest argument. The dealer had refused to sell anything less than the large, fat bag he now held though. He even boasted he would be back for more. That customers always wanted more. Well, that was one slimy slagheap that was going to be wrong this time. He knew what he wanted, and he knew what he needed. This would be far more than enough. Though he might just lend a bit to Barney if the little twerp didn't do something about Betty soon.
Knowing his little buddy, Betty's only problem might be she needed a good screwing, too.
He laughed to himself as he pulled into the drive, saw Wilma wasn't home yet, and grinned as he thought of just how best to proceed.
Ten minutes later, he had grabbed the evening paper, fed Dino, and sprawled in his favorite chair in front of the television to watch the evening news. He had already used a full half an ounce of his costly party drug to spike Wilma's favorite tea, and her salad dressing. Since about all she ate of late were small salads with a little drop of that dressing with her tea. Her new diet, he snorted, as if she needed one.
He liked her as she was. She might have rounded out a little since having Pebbles, but she was still hotter than most of the new teen losers he saw on the music vids now that he had had to switch to cable since the old rabbit ears did nothing for reception after the city had grown, and those big towers had gone up all around Bedrock.
He was wondering about how long it might take for Wilma to succumb to the cactus dust when he heard the back door slam, and wondered if that was her. He waited for a full minute before he entered the kitchen, and gaped as Betty turned from the fridge to sip from the glass of tea she had just poured from Wilma's pitcher to stare at him.
"B-Betty," he stared back, seeing only the glass she had just drank from that was already half gone.
"Hi, Fred," she sighed wearily, apparently too tired to even argue with him just then.
Then he realized she looked really tired. And hot. And more disheveled than usual. She downed the rest of her glass of tea, and before he could think of stopping her, she poured another before closing the fridge.
"Betty," he finally smiled anxiously, thinking Barney just might be surprised tonight as the willowy brunette that was still as thin as when she had married his longtime buddy drained the second glass as she went to the nearby table, and all but collapsed into a chair.
"What's wrong," he asked, realizing something had really taken the steam out of his usual quarrelsome neighbor.
"Oh, Fred," she sighed, her lower lip trembling as she turned to look up at him, for by now he had come to stand right beside her, not really comfortable enough around her to sit down. For all he knew, that might just start another of her endless arguments. "I….I had to walk all the way home."
"Walk? What happened to Barney?"
"He….He's not home. And it wouldn't matter anyway. The car was repossessed this morning. He….He lost his job again."
"Again," Fred frowned, wondering how it was that his buddy, usually a likeable enough guy, couldn't seem to hold a job for very long. If it weren't for Betty's own job, and Wilma's generosity, they would have lost their house years ago. "What happened now," he asked in audible disgust.
His buddy of long years, even Betty knew, had been pushing it with him, too lately.
"I don't know. I drove Barney to work, like always, and then drove to the bank myself. I got there to find a tow truck waiting from the dealer. Barney…. Barney hadn't made a payment in three months. I called….."
She stopped to sniff, obviously trying not to cry, which told Fred just how upset the woman was that she would admit so much to him, and actually break down in front of him. As he looked down, he couldn't help but see the small, but firm swell of her perfectly tanned breasts from his vantage point, too. He suddenly realized for the first time in almost fifteen years that Barney's wife really was a good-looking woman. A real nicely built woman. He grimaced as he remembered Wilma. His wife. Her best friend. And tried very hard not to react to the inadvertent flash of smooth skin as she tugged at her bodice again as she went on.
"I called Barney, or rather, his boss, but he said Barney hasn't been at work for two months. He was fired that long ago, and he never even told me," she said, giving up, and just bawling as she suddenly rose and flung herself into his arms.
"Oh, Fred," she wept, "What am I going to do? I haven't even picked up BamBam from the sitters. I'm afraid….
"Oh, Fred," she wailed. "What are we going to do now. Oh. Oh…..
"Oh, Fred," she said again as she softened her voice, her eyes huge, dark pools of languid desire as she slowly looked into his, and smiled. "Is that….all you," she murmured increasing the pressure of her trim body against his own, even adding a little wiggle that did wonderful things to the thick cock already stirring between his thick thighs.
To late, he remembered the cactus dust as he reached for the last of Betty's tea, and gulped it down. Not that he needed it. The drug, that is. He just reminded himself that this was Betty Rubble. A first class pain in the ass. A nagging shrew. A….
"Don't you like me, Freddie," she cooed as she moved with him, stroking his broad chest boldly as she pressed her trim hips against his now straining erection. "It feels like you do."
"Now, Betty," he rasped, dangerously close to losing all control as the dregs of the spiked drink made him flush with an unexpected heat. Just the brunette's casual touch was turning every one of his nerve ends into erogenous zones, too. Just the brush of her fingers was making him want to grab her, and throw her over the table, and…..
No, no, no, he told himself. He was no mindless cave brute. This was all for Wilma, he reminded himself as he fled to the living room with Betty right behind him. It was certainly not for an accidental, and rather peculiar meeting with his neighbor. Besides, he didn't quite like Betty all that much.
Even if her naked titties were….
When had she pulled down her dress, he wondered anxiously as shook her small, but very cute tits at him as she giggled, and slid a hand along his side until it was suddenly pressing against his hard erection, stroking, and fondling him boldly through his clothing as she blushed furiously while winking at him.
"Why, Freddie," she murmured, her free hand now sliding between her own thin thighs. "I think you're playing hard to get. But I like hard," she sighed blissfully as she obviously reached her own still hidden crotch with her fingers.
"Betty, shouldn't you, ah, be waiting at home for….Barney," he asked as he backpedaled until he found himself dropping right into his favorite chair. With Betty dropping down across his lap, her hands now moving to free his throbbing cock before he could even think of stopping her.
"Great Scott," he bellowed as she lifted her short, pale-blue skirt to expose her wet, hairy hole, and just that quickly, she simply impaled herself on his full, hard shaft.
"Oh, Fred," she sighed, and ground her belly down to fully sheathe his throbbing cock in her surprisingly tight cunt that stretched appreciatively around his length. "It's been so long," she moaned as she began to ride him so frantically he knew neither of them were going to last long.
"Betty," he groaned, and gave up, grabbing her hips to arch his hips up to meet her clasping cunt on every stroke. In only a dozen quick thrusts, she was grinding her trembling pink hole down against him in a shattering climax even as he exploded in her womb, filling her womb with his seed.
And he didn't even start to sag as she looked up from resting briefly against his shoulder, and murmured, "More, Freddie. Good heavens, please, more."
By now, the cactus dust was far from his mind as he stood up, positioned the suddenly hot-blooded shrew's ass before him, and thrust back into her hot, dripping cunt from behind. "We call this doggy style, bitch," he growled as he now plied her with complete control over his formerly annoying neighbor.
"Yes, Fred. Yes," she howled, arching her back as she slammed her slender body back to meet his every pounding stroke. "I'm your bitch. Just fuck me. Fuck me hard, you big-dicked stud.
"Oh, God, yessssss," she howled in orgasm once more, and then seemed to deflate completely as she sagged over the back of his chair, just content to lay there unmoving with his now dwindling shaft sliding from her well-stretched hole after he finally spilled his second load in her womb.
Some minutes later, as Betty snuggled in his lap as she was content to sit there half naked, and dripping their mingled fluids from her well-spread puss, she began to weep. "Ah, c'mon, Betty," he groaned, afraid of this very reaction. He could just hear her yelling rape now that it was over, and she was apparently coming off the dust she had accidentally ingested. "It wasn't that bad, was it? And no one has to know….."
"No, Fred. You don't understand," she sniffed. "I haven't…..haven't been fucked like that….well, since ever. Barney doesn't even touch me anymore."
"Well, Betty, maybe he's just…."
"No," she cut him off, sounding more like herself, then looked at him as if she just remembered he had made her cum twice in a row with such wonderful results. "No, Fred. It's not what you think.
"I….I was going through the house a month ago, and I….I….found some skin magazines Barney had hidden."
"Ah, Betty, every guy likes…."
"Fred, they were….guy magazines. Boulders & Bears. Bitch-boy. Things like that."
"Jeez," Fred recoiled, staring at her in horror. "You're telling me Barn is…..?"
"Yes. I think so. He even had an ad in one of them. I found it open, and circled. So much makes sense now, but….I just never saw it before. And now I find out the hard way he hasn't even been going to work.
"And do you know the most frustrating thing of all, Freddy," she sighed.
"Ah, what's that, Betty," he asked carefully as she began to rub his stomach the way Wilma sometimes did as they talked after they fucked. Or the way she used to before this whole mess started with the neighbors had started.
"That Barney has such a tiny dick, and prefers to share it with other men, leaving me alone and wanting while all this time you've had this monster right next door," she sighed, dropping her hand to his still semi-swollen shaft.
"Ah, Betty, that's nice, but…."
"I'm going to be seeing you much more often, Fred," she smiled as she stood up to fix her clothes only then. "Count on it, you stud. Now, I'd better go face the baby sitter, and see if we owe her back pay, too," she sighed. "Later, stud," she said as she actually winked back at him as he left.
"Great," he muttered as the suddenly very friendly brunette left the house giggling, and playful, which was a far different mood than he was used to of late. "Another reason to dread that crazy woman hanging around."
Later that afternoon, even as he came from the bathroom after washing up, and cleaning up the evidence of the impromptu orgy, he heard Wilma's car pull in outside. He went to his chair, dropped down in it, and shook his head as she heard Betty yell at her from across the fence. He went to a nearby window, and listened covertly as the women chattered while Wilma let Pebbles down to play with Bam Bam in the yard next door. The two children had been great friends since the Rubbles adopted the little boy with phenomenal strength, and after Betty's revelation he now understood just why they had had to adopt. He had always thought something might be wrong with Betty, that she couldn't get pregnant.
There was. She had a husband that was a boulder-boy. He shuddered as he heard the two women pass the time, and Betty chatted rather casually as if nothing was bothering her, and she hadn't spent the afternoon getting fucked out of her skull by her best friend's husband.
It was almost ironic that the first time he ever cheated on Wilma in all this time it ended up being due to an accident involving her best friend who had never cared for him. He almost choked the next moment when he heard Betty say quite clearly, "Oh, Fred was an absolute doll this afternoon. I thought you had come home, but it was him, and he helped me through a bad spot when I really needed it.
"I tell you, Wilma," the brunette actually giggled again. "I was just so surprised to see that side of Fred. He's not usually so….helpful," she giggled again.
"Really," Wilma frowned, glancing toward the house, and almost catching a very anxious Fred staring back before he could duck. "I am surprised. I didn't expect him to get in early today. I hope he didn't lose his job, too."
"He didn't say anything about it," Betty told her. "I think he just got off early. I wouldn't worry about it. You have a real man there, Wilma. If I were you, I'd sure make sure you kept him."
"Uh, Betty, are you feeling all right," Wilma asked.
"Of course," Betty assured her as Fred swallowed hard. "Why do you ask?" "You look a little flushed all of a sudden. You're not catching something, are you?" "Nooooo," Betty murmured, then sighed. "But Barney will if he ever gets home. He's pushed one time too many, Wilma. I used to think Fred was just as bad, but after today, I think Fred may be much more of a man than Barney can ever hope to be."
"I thought you said they were probably covering for one another?"
"I thought so for a while. I mean, they've been best friends since forever, and they're always hanging out together. I couldn't help but think Fred was helping Barney….hide things. But after our….chat today, I have a whole new perspective on Fred. He's okay, Wilma. I really believe he is okay."
"Well, ah, that's nice. But speaking of Fred, I'd better get in and get his supper started. You know how he hates being up late when he's hungry."
"The whole neighborhood knows, Wilma," Betty giggled, recalling how loud both of them could yell when they got into an argument over anything. Not like Barney, who just slunk off and hid until he hoped she forgot whatever the disagreement was about.
"Don't remind me."
"Well, if you like, I'll watch Pebbles for you," Betty told her abruptly. "That way you can fix supper, and have a little time together."
"That's….really nice, Betty," Wilma yielded hesitantly, still uncertain over her friend's behavior after the troubling news she had imparted about Barney, their car, and his job. "Oh, and you know you're more than welcome to borrow my car until you can get another. I know you need your job…."
"I really appreciate that, Wilma," Betty smiled, and leaned over the fence to hug her. "That's one less thing I have to worry about, at least."
"You know we're still best friends, Betty," Wilma protested as she finally pulled away, startled by the impulsive gesture. "Nothing's going to change that."
"I hope you mean that," Betty said as Wilma frowned at her. "I just mean, I….I have some more troubling news about Barney. But….it'll keep.
"Or ask Fred. I told him. I think he was as shocked as I was, which proved to me he wasn't helping Barney hide things after all."
"No kidding," Fred muttered as he went back to his chair as Wilma headed to the house. He still couldn't believe his best buddy was a butt-boy. That all this time, through all they had been through, Barney had never said so much as one word to him about…..that.
Just as well, he thought grimly. Had he always felt that way? Was it something new with him? Barney was always getting into new fads. Maybe he felt this was just another new whim to explore. But….taking out ads in skin mags like the ones Betty had mentioned? Even he had heard of those titles, since he worked around some pretty rough guys, a few that also happened to prefer a man's touch. They didn't slink around in the dark like Barney did, though. They were open, proud, and didn't worry about anything but doing their own thing. And other than their sex lives, they were all pretty normal, stand-up guys.
Suddenly, the way Barney was acting did seem pretty low. Fred scowled again even as the door opened behind him, and Wilma walked up behind him. "All right, Fred Flintstone, what's been going on here?"
"What do you mean, dear," he asked, turning to smile at her, and inanely hoping she was thirsty.
"I mean, Betty is acting nuts, and now I hear she was over here, and you were comforting her. Then she tells me she told you something about Barney. Something she couldn't seem to tell me. I want to know what is going on. What have you two been up to now?"
"What do you mean? I haven't even seen Barney all day….."
"I meant….Oh never mind. Just come help me fix supper. You can peel the potatoes while I get the meat broiling."
"Sure, hon," Fred sighed, and got up to follow her. "So…..Betty told you about Barney?"
"She told me she couldn't tell me. It embarrassed her too much. But she told you," Wilma huffed as she went to the icebox and took out the fixings for supper.
Including her salad and favorite dressing.
Things were starting to look up again, he decided.
"Actually, Wilma, they're going through a bad patch. A very bad patch. Betty hit me with a shocker I couldn't quite believe, but I guess it's true.
"She said…. Well, she told me Barney prefers men," he blurted out.
Wilma froze, one hand holding the bread, the other holding the knife she was using to cut it for toast as he kept peeling the four fat potatoes he had pulled out of the bin to peel for supper.
"She said what," Wilma asked in a very soft voice.
"You heard me," he told her, keeping his voice low this time. "All this time, and I didn't have a clue, before you ask. It really blindsided me. But it kind of explains a lot.
"She said she found some….magazines he had hidden. One of them even had an ad he placed himself."
"Good Lord," Wilma frowned, her disgust evident. "And all this time I thought they were just having the usual marital troubles."
"Me, too, sweetie," he told her. "Barney never said a word about this….."
"You two never….?"
Fred turned to stare at her as her question was cut off by his own dark expression. "He's still alive, isn't he," he said in a grim tone.
Wilma nodded, and said nothing more on the issue. She knew he had strong opinions on certain things. Obviously, this was one of them.
And she would be right. He might know a few of those boys at work, but they lived in a different world from him, and he was content to leave it that way. Stand-up guys that did their jobs were fine. So long as their hands stayed off him.
"So, are you going to eat some real food tonight," he tried teasing her as he tossed the second skinned potato into a pot of boiling water already on the stove for that purpose.
"Just a potato, and my salad. I'm still a little heavy," she complained, sliding her hands down her ample hips that had swelled since Pebble's birth.
"Ah, bronto-feathers, honey," he protested. "If you ask me, you look delicious just the way you are."
"Men," Wilma glared at him, and said nothing else as she finished the rest of supper preparations in silence.
Fred, knowing when his wife was in a mood, said nothing as he helped this time, and then sat at the table in front of his well-filled plate once everything was done. "Say," he asked, looking at the empty highchair as if he had not eavesdropped on the women. "What about Pebbles? You're not going to bring her in for supper?"
"Betty has her playing with Bam Bam at the moment. She ate a late snack at the sitter's, so she'll be fine until later," Wilma told him as she poured a glass of tea for herself, and gave him one of his favorite beers from the fridge. Honestly, she had been surprised not to find him already holding one when she walked in.
"Oh. Well, okay," he nodded as he started eating with relish as the food was as good as ever. One thing he could say without reservation, and that was Wilma was a good cook. A very good cook.
"Tastes great, Wilma," he grinned, watching her spear a dressing-coated leaf of lettuce. "Just like always."
"Well, I'm still surprised at you," she finally smiled less than warmly. "Comforting Betty in my absence? That's something new for you, isn't it, Fred," she asked pointedly.
"Jeez, Wilma," he groaned. "She came in here practically crying her eyes out, and I didn't know what to do. I just….tried to listen, and, ah, tried to sound sympathetic."
Wilma rolled her eyes. Now that sounded like her Fred. She took a long drink of her tea, tried to relax, and then looked at Fred again. "She also said you were in early today."
"Yeah. We finished the consignment for the new dam, and Mr. Slate sent everyone home after that. He wanted us in bright and early to start on the new pit we're supposed to start excavating for the big highway project we just got for the state.
"Which means I'll probably be late tomorrow," he added, shrugging. "You know how the Mr. Slate likes to balance out the time we take off."
"So, you're not in danger of being laid off, or anything," he asked.
He chuckled. "Not a chance. I'm only one of the top heavy-equipment operators left in the city. Most of the others have taken off for higher paying jobs overseas."
"Oh, right," she murmured, eyeing him anxiously. "I remember you were talking about that last week."
"You didn't think I was saying I was interested, did you," he exclaimed. "Honey, Iraqi-stone and all those places are way too dangerous for me. I may not make the big bucks, but I get to come home safe and sound every night to a woman I adore," he winked. "And that's worth more than all the money in the world."
"Oh, Fred," she sighed, sounding a bit more like the woman he had married all those years ago.
"So, when do we have to go get Pebbles," he asked her, grinning knowingly at the gleam that was suddenly lit in her sparkling, green eyes as she moved restlessly in her chair.
"Not for hours and hours," Wilma murmured, standing up to circle the table as she threw back her head, pulling out the pins and letting her hair fall with an abandon he had not seen in months.
"And hours," she added, straddling his lap, and leaning down to rub her tiny nose against his.
"Still hungry, Freddy," she asked playfully, definitely far from the angry, sullen woman she had been only a few minutes ago.
"Not for pterodactyl steaks," he grinned, and scooped her up in his arms, carrying her swiftly toward the bedroom.
"Oh, Fred, you caveman," she tittered, and shook her hair the rest of the way out as he tossed her onto the bed, and grinned.
"Baby, you ain't seen nothing yet," he growled as he ripped the modest dress from her body, and buried his face in the middle of her tangled, red forest that grew between her thighs. She was as wet as she had ever been just then, and smelled delicious.
"Time for dessert, you horny, little cavewoman," he growled as he slid his tongue across the furry slit that was already swelling with arousal as Wilma's pungent musk filled he air.
"Eat me, Fred," she cried out. "Stick that tongue in me," she ordered him as she clutched at his head as her legs spread wide to grant him freer access. "Oh, yeah, suck that sweet honey. Suck it all out," she moaned as she worked her hips to meet the thrusting tongue that lapped at her hot, pink flesh.
"I'd rather fuck you," he finally told her, seeing the culmination of his plan before him as he rose with a glistening face to leer down at his wife's slim, yet rounded figure that writhed before him on the bed. Even fucking Betty hadn't taken the edge off his lust for her as he carelessly jerked off his work suit to all but fall atop his wanton wife.
She squealed anxiously as his full, hard length drove right into her to the hilt, and he just held her for a moment as her clasping, rippling inner muscles seemed to dance and suck at his hard cock all at once.
"Wow, Wilma," he murmured as he slowly began to fuck her, fully intent upon making this moment last. "You are still the best, baby. Still the best."
"Shut up, and fuck me, you bastard," his usually modest wife cursed him as she threw herself up at him, gasping and panting as her snug sheath spread and stretched easily for her husband even though it had been some time since they had last made love.
"With pleasure," he chuckled, and began to pound her in earnest as he braced himself over his wife's spread legs, and stared down in wonder at the sight of his long, hard pole sliding in and out of her dripping, wet hole.
"Yabba-dabba-dooooo," he howled when he finally spent himself deep in her womb, almost certain he might have just made another Pebbles just then.
And they still were not sated. Even as he pulled his still hard pole from his wife's now squishy, hot hole, he grinned at her whimper of distress as she obviously wanted more. "Time to experiment, honey," he told her, moving her now pliant, lust-filled body to kneel before him on the bed before he thrust hard into her from behind as he took her doggy style. Something she had never allowed before now, but now accepted without complaint as she shoved herself back at him eagerly, her full, round breasts swaying beneath her as she ordered him to fuck harder and faster.
He enjoyed obeying her for once as their bodies strained to join again and again as he finally molded his wife into the perfect lover. One that wanted more and more, and was as open as he was to anything that popped into their minds.
"We should go get Pebbles," Wilma finally murmured, laying on her belly across the center of the bed sometime later after their fifth round of lust-making as Fred now joyously considered it.
"Yeah," he murmured, amazed at his endurance, even as he was pleased at it. And all from just one quick swallow of that tea? No wonder the girls were so cranked up if they had drank several glasses of the special potion, not to mention Wilma having her usual salad.
"So, go get her, Fred," Wilma told him sleepily. "I'll just keep the bed warm," she smiled up at him. "I'm just not in the mood to listen to any more of her bitching about Barney again tonight."
Fred sighed, then chuckled at her frank admission, and then climbed to his feet. "Sure thing, honey. I'll be back after I go get Pebbles, and put her to bed. But then I need to be getting some sleep, too," he reminded her. "I've probably got a long day tomorrow, remember."
"Too bad," she murmured, then nestled against her pillows and closed her eyes. But as Fred reluctantly rose to dress, he noticed how she pressed her thighs together, and down into the bed linens.
Damn, he thought, was she still wanting it? It looked like that dust was stronger than he realized.
Walking over to Barney and Betty's by the back way worn into their yards from their long association, he eased past the broken fence that was their unofficial gate between their back yards, and ignored the broken toys around the yard as he headed for the back door. BamBam, he knew well enough, was rough on everything and everyone around him. Oddly enough, he never really hurt anyone though. He was also careful, even though he was only a toddler, as if sensing he could seriously injure someone with his unusual strength.
"Betty," he called out softly as he knocked lightly on the back door. "I came to get….."
"Sssshhhh. Pebbles is sleeping," the brunette told him as she jerked open the door, still looking a bit rumpled as she all but dragged him into the house. "And Barney isn't home yet."
"Not yet," Fred frowned.
"No," she pouted. "So come here and give me some more of what you gave Wilma, you bad, bad boy," she ordered as she dragged him through the kitchen, into the living room, and all but threw him back on the couch.
"Betty," he hissed, looking around anxiously. "What about the kids? What about….?"
"Screw them. Screw Barney. But most of all," she said, jerking off her dress completely to show she was completely naked beneath it, and had even shaved her still wet, swollen little puss. "Screw me," she demanded as she straddled his lap even as she reached for him, her hands going where his still responsive cock was making a surprising resurrection within his clothes.
"Betty," he groaned as the hot, wet bitch just sank down onto him the moment she freed his swelling rod.
"Oh, God," she moaned, leaning forward to rub her small, firm tits in his face as she began riding him. "I've needed this all night," she moaned even louder, and began to bounce atop his lap as he gave in, and just held onto the crazed brunette that was well past caring about anything but her own lust as he opened his mouth to swallow one pale tit whole as he sucked that delicious flesh into his mouth.
Betty cried out appreciatively as he feasted on her tender flesh even as she fucked herself into a stupor atop his seemingly tireless cock. By the time he woke the next morning, just before dawn, he realized he had collapsed in Betty's own bed, and the naked brunette was sprawled over him, hugging him possessively even in her sleep.
He also realized his now limp shaft was still resting in her sticky hole.
The realization had him swelling with renewed lust, and his groan had Betty stirring as she sleepily wriggled atop him, then gasped more in surprise than delight this time.
"F-Fred," she almost whimpered as she pushed off his chest only to further impale herself on his reviving shaft. "Ohmigod, it was all real. I…I thought I was dreaming," she said as she stared at him with her own mind and wits no longer dazed by the drug she had ingested accidentally.
"Of course it was real," Fred chose to bluff as he realized instantly that she was once more herself. "I guess you wanted one more round this morning before I had to get home, and get ready for work," he said as he felt her bottom wriggle invitingly as she sat up fully now, not yet able to cope with what she was learning was not just a peculiar dream.
"No," she wailed. "I mean….."
She sighed as Fred tensed his muscles, and his shaft throbbed deep inside her hungry hole that remembered only that it had finally been well-fucked as never before.
"Yes," he asked.
Betty stared anxiously down at her own denuded sex, and groaned helplessly. "We…We should never have….Ohhhh, but since you're here," she leaned forward to kiss Fred passionately. "Just once more before you have to leave.
"But we can't tell Barney, or Wilma. Ever. And we can never do this again," she added even as she began to work her shapely bottom up and down his appreciative cock. Even without the drugs, Fred soon realized that Betty was one damn good fuck.
By the time he finished, he had just enough time to sneak himself and Pebbles in, jump in the shower, and pretend to be have just gotten up when Wilma stepped into the shower after finding he had left her in the bed alone.
"Last night was wonderful, Fred," she nuzzled him as they washed one another, but did not lapse into sex play this time, which was just as well for Fred who was by now well past spent for the moment.
"I have to agree," he grinned. "I don't know what got into you, but I hope we never fight again if that is what I have to look forward to," he told her.
Wilma only sighed blissfully, still lost in the afterglow of a long night of passionate sex, never realizing her husband had not spent the night with her as her dreams had suggested.
Barney was in hell.
Or was it heaven.
Even he couldn't be sure just then.
He only knew he really liked it when the master, (that nameless man that had answered his ad, and commanded him to appear, or else), fucked him, he was in heaven. It was when he could finally forget the lies and deceptions of his past, and finally enjoy the truth of his own secret desires. The problem was that there was a hell that came with the heaven.
He hung from his wrists in a secret dungeon under the master's palatial home, naked except for the leather cage that held his throbbing shaft, all four inches of it, back between his legs to give him a rather androgynous look. The look the master commanded of him when he was freed to serve in his house.
Or den of iniquity, as the master jokingly called it that first time they had met just three months ago. Three months ago, he had been anxious, a little scared, and really excited as he blew off bowling night for the first time in years to meet the man who had finally responded to his ad in Bitch-boy.
"Bite-sized bottom-boy looking for dominant bear to snap him up," he had daringly written, and while he had a few oddballs reply, no one serious, or worthy of consideration had replied until the master's command had come to him.
The first month had been a slow dance of discovery for him. He was seduced, taught to fuck and suck as the master, his master, wished. He had enjoyed every wonderful moment as his small body was mastered just the way he had often dreamed. The first time that thick, hot shaft had stretched his ass wide, and made him a real bitch, Barney had been euphoric. Beyond euphoric. He came back again, and again.
The second month the master shocked him as he began his descent into hell. He ordered him to leave his job. He would take care of everything he was told. Just leave his job, and he was to come to him every morning. He would learn to serve him even more deeply, he had been told. Barney had been so enamored of his new, and commanding lover that he had not even questioned the consequences, or implications of his actions. He dropped Betty off at work that next morning, and drove all the way to the master's mansion with a hard-on that wouldn't fade.
He later just let Betty drive him to work, where he caught the bus, and went to his lover's home since the master didn't want his 'old wreck' cluttering his drive. His next month was spent learning the first tentative steps into more and more involved bondage, and serving anyone the master ordered him to serve. He was so bewitched by the pleasures overwhelming him that he did everything he was told.
Until this last visit, when he came to his master's hall, and spent the day doing all he was commanded, until it was time to go. The master gave him a drink, and that was all he remembered until he woke in the basement, naked, and dangling in his chains, and obviously going nowhere. He began to worry what Betty might think, and what she might do. He yelled out, but no one came. No one answered. He was alone in the darkness of the basement, hanging helplessly from chains he already knew were not going to yield to his feeble struggles.
"Oh boy," he murmured, both elated, and scared out of his wits as his captive cock tried to swell in vain in its prison.
And all he could do was hang there, waiting to find out just what was going to happen next.
He just knew Betty was going to kill him this time for certain. And he had blown Fred off so many times lately he couldn't even be sure his best buddy would help him cover his absence this time. "Oh boy," he muttered again as he dangled there feeling the painful stretch of his arms, and the oddly pleasant confinement of his admittedly small dick that drew laughter from most who saw it.
Except from his master, who seemed unaccountably pleased he was so small. That gave him a faint rush of pleasure, but bound as he was, it did him little good. All he could do was wait. And hope the master would help him out of what was obviously going to be a real mess knowing Betty.
Betty knocked at the back door, hearing someone in the kitchen as she entered the house to find Wilma already making Fred's supper even though he was not yet home. "Hi, Wilma," she said, letting Bam Bam down to scramble off in search of his playmate. "I don't suppose you know if Fred saw Barney yet?"
"No, he didn't say anything before he went to work this morning anyway," the redhead said absently as she continued her work with a smile.
"Isn't Fred home yet," Betty asked a little anxiously as she looked around, and saw only the kids playing in the living room through the door, and Dino resting in his usual place awaiting his master's return.
"No. He already told me he might be late, though. Mr. Slate let them go early yesterday, so that's why he was in early. He warned me he would probably be late since they're starting a new job site today, and Mr. Slate hates to have them lose time."
"Yeah, I know. I wish Barney still worked at the quarry, though. At least I'd know where he was these days."
"He's not in yet, either," Wilma asked in an obviously disinterested tone as Betty helped herself to the last glass of tea in the pitcher after she poured Wilma one.
"He didn't come in at all last night," she sighed as she sat at the table, and idly stared at her glass of tea.
"What," Wilma frowned now. "Not at all?"
"No. I started thinking something might have happened to him. Then I….Oh, Wilma, I even wondered if he might have….left me."
"Left you," Wilma exclaimed as she abandoned the roast she was preparing to broil to turn to face her friend. "But….why?"
"Did…..Did Fred tell you what I told him yesterday," she asked anxiously.
"Well, yeah. But I thought he was pulling my leg again. You know how….?"
"It's true. Barney is looking for men," she sniffed, and lifted her glass to sip at the potent tea to hide her distress.
"But Barney loves you," Wilma protested, coming over to sit beside her friend.
"Maybe. I…. I had all night to think about it. What if…. What if it was Fred that Barney loves?"
"What," Wilma exclaimed.
"Think about it, Wilma," Betty said, putting her glass down. "They've been friends since forever. He just happened to agree to date me when Fred started seeing you. He only asked me to marry him after you and Fred got engaged. Until then, I couldn't even tell if he was serious, or even interested. And then, the day we left on our honeymoon, he brings me home to a house that just happened to be right next door to you?"
"I see what you mean," Wilma frowned, and gulped down a nervous swallow of her own till then ignored tea.
"Fred? And Barney," Wilma laughed. "Now you're definitely off-track, sweetie," Wilma laughed as the first effects of the drug began to reach her once more. "Fred would rip Barney into little pieces if he so much as hinted at something like that. I won't say he's homophobic, but he wanted Dino neutered before he brought him home from the pet shop," she giggled. "The salesman finally assured him it wouldn't matter."
"I don't suppose….Fred told you anything else before he left for work," Betty asked, suddenly smiling shyly as she eyed her friend.
"Just the usual," Wilma shrugged, thinking of their very nice shower that morning. It was the first time they had bathed together since that second honeymoon in Rock Vegas.
"I just feel," Betty told her as she paused to take another drink. "I feel you should know…."
"Know what," she murmured as she stared at her friend and saw her for the first time with new eyes. She was so thin. So petite. So perfect. Everything she wasn't.
"Wilma," Betty giggled abruptly. "Are you staring at my little titties?"
"Your what," Wilma giggled in return.
"Well, that's what Fred calls them."
"Fred talks about your titties," Wilma exclaimed, looking astonished.
"Well, I overheard him once," Betty demurred, not yet relaxed enough to confess she had virtually…no, literally attacked her husband. Of course, he hadn't exactly fought her off. Thank God.
"Well, yeah, I can believe that," Wilma blushed now. "He can be….loud."
"So can you, sweetheart," Betty smirked at her. "Especially last night."
"Oh. Oh," Wilma blushed all the more.
"Don't worry. I don't mind. Well, actually I do. I was jealous," she told her flatly.
Wilma recalled what her friend often said about limp-dick Barney, and giggled. "I guess you have a reason to be. But I've always envied you," she admitted.
"Me? For what reason," Betty asked incredulously.
"Oh, c'mon. Look at these," she said, and impulsively tore open her bodice to expose her full, round tits that hung loose today with no bra. "I'm like a cow. I've always envied your small, firm little boobies. They're just…..so perfect," she sighed.
"You mean, these," Betty asked, opening her dress to show off her small, unbound breasts to her friend with a secret grin.
"Oh, yeah," Wilma sighed, staring at the small, swollen mounds. "I'd love to have boobies like those."
"And I've always envied your big, fat titties," Betty giggled. "Aren't we silly?"
"I guess so. I've been trying to diet for months, thinking I could get back to my girlish shape, and entice Fred all over again. Then he comes onto me last night like he's the only man in an all-woman porn shoot. It was wonderful, Bets," she sighed, reaching up to absently rub one of her breasts as her nipples began to swell into hard little buds.
"Let me help," Betty suggested, and came around the table to slide her hands down to cup and fondle her much larger breasts as her own rubbed against Wilma's back.
"Betty Rubble," Wilma gasped even as she leaned back into her embrace. "Are you trying to seduce me," she giggled.
"Definitely," the brunette tittered.
"But what about the kids?"
"We'll put them in Pebble's bedroom, and let them play," she told her as Wilma sighed.
"Then we'll go to your bedroom, and play," Betty suggested, taking a firm grip on her friend's breasts.
Fred was worn out by the time he dragged into the house, and smelled something burning in the kitchen. "Wilma," he called out, and walked into the kitchen after dropping his coat, and lunchbox. He saw the smoke from one pot, and quickly took it off the burner before turning off the oven, which was empty, thankfully, and then looked around in confusion.
And saw the two glasses on the table, and the empty tea pitcher.
"Uh-oh," he murmured and saw one glass was all but empty, and the other still had a few ounces left, but not much. He had forgotten all about that pitcher when he left this morning.
He looked around, but saw no evidence of Wilma, or…..probably Betty.
But surely they weren't….?
He went to the bedroom, and heard a soft moaning, and his eyes grew wide. Carefully pushing the door open, he peered in to stare at the two women lapping at one another on the bed. Even more incredibly, he saw Dino atop the women, his long, thin animal prick sliding deep into a hairless snatch with wild abandon.
Only it wasn't Betty's hairless snatch, he quickly realized, seeing that woman turned the wrong direction. Wilma had shaved, too! And she had Dino fucking her while she and Betty ate each other out.
"Holy smokes," he said, and pulled the door closed. "This is getting out of hand," he thought, and decided he had better get rid of the rest of that cactus dust.
He started toward his hiding place out in the garage where he had stashed it this morning, and then stopped. What if later, Wilma sank back into her frigid, angry disposition again? Wouldn't he want a little more of that miracle herb to jumpstart her libido again. And he hadn't minded the quick pick-me-up that it had provided him either. He wasn't sure he could have met the two women's demands last night if he hadn't taken that single gulp of tea laced with the drug. He stopped before he could carry out his plan, and then thought of something else.
Grinning, he went to get the new camcorder Wilma's mom had bought them for last Christmas, and set it up just inside the door as he downed the last of the tea left in the kitchen. Grinning, he watched the action as his two best women continued to suck each other noisily as Dino finally slid off Wilma, and Betty actually kept licking as she gobbled down the animal's dribbling cum.
And it was all caught on film as he impulsively shoved the door open, and announced, "Honey, I'm home."
"It's about time, caveman," Wilma told him, heedless of the camera. "Get over here, and fuck us," she demanded.
"Me first," Betty insisted. "You had Dino last, and I haven't had his delicious dick since yesterday."
"What," Wilma yelped, then yelped again as Fred shut her up by sliding his rapidly freed cock right into her mouth.
"Suck it, Red," he ordered her, feeling safe considering how aroused both women were just now. "I need it nice and wet before I fill Betty's tight, little hole."
"Oh, that's right. I had it this morning, too," Betty giggled, and smiled impishly at Fred as she moved to lean back, and spread her legs to show her gaping snatch which obviously needed no lubrication. "What a lovely way to wake up."
Wilma was glaring at him now, but he could tell it was with more sexual heat than anger. "No jealousy now, girls," Fred told them as he fucked Wilma's mouth, sliding his fully engorged shaft right into her throat. "You have to play nice, or I'll leave you both alone."
Either she had been practicing with Dino, or the drug relaxed her enough to let her take him like a real pro, because she showed no discomfort at all as she sucked him deep on ever stroke, even teasing his dangling balls as he stood over her at the side of the bed, watching Betty stroke her hairless cunt.
"I think I'm in heaven," he grinned as he prepared to slide out of his wife's suctioning lips to fill Betty's hot puss right in front of his wife's face.
Barney was now pretty sure he was in hell as he stared at the pictures the master's agent had taken.
"She doesn't even miss you, slut-boy," the master's man chortled as he produced the sots that showed Betty fucking Fred, his best buddy, right on his own couch.
Another image showed Betty on her hands and knees in their own bed, Fred behind her as he rammed her hard enough the bed was seen to be shaking even in that still photo. The last image was eloquent enough. It showed Fred passed out on his bed, with Betty sprawled over his broad, muscular frame, still planted firmly atop his thick dick.
Barney, dressed like a proper little maid just now, complete with his own wig to fill out the illusion, stared at the last image the longest.
He always knew Fred had toned up since he started going to that gym lately, but, man, he was a regular beach bully now from the look of it. And that dick! He had always had a soft spot for his friend, but never dared broach that subject with him. If he had known Fred was that hung, he might have risked it. Still, to fuck his own wife in his own bed? That was low even for Fred.
"That's enough, Carlos," the master snapped as he entered the room. "I did not ask you to torment my new toy Merely to keep an eye on his wife, to see what she was doing concerning her husband's absence."
"Well, my pet," the master asked, eyeing him. "Do you wish to go home now? Or will you stay with me, and become all I can make of you for our….mutual pleasure," he asked.
Barney looked up at the man who had become so important to him in so short a time. Then he looked down at the images that were damning no matter how he looked at them. Even if he couldn't quite please Betty no matter how he tried, he had always considered her his haven in the world. She was always there, ready to forgive him, when things didn't work out. When he bungled really badly. Only lately, she had not been all that forgiving. Was it because of Fred?
"I only keep willing pets, Angel," the master called him as he often addressed him in this guise. He wasn't sure why he liked making him dress up like a maid. It was his favorite game for some reason. Barney didn't mind, because he knew at the end, he'd be fucking him again, and that it would be wonderful.
"You must decide now. Stay with me, and give up your old life forever, or return to this whore, and never again visit my den of iniquity," the master told him firmly.
"Yes, my pet," the master asked knowingly.
"I…..want to stay. But…..could you send those pictures to Fred's wife? Let her see what he's been doing behind our backs," he demanded.
"For you, Angel," the master smiled. "I shall deliver them myself," the man told him as he scooped up the pictures, and tucked them into his shirt pocket. "But now you must say it plainly. Do you wish truly to stay?
"To become whatever I wish to make of you? To forever be my slave, or whatever my whim or desire wishes to make of you?"
"Yes. Yes to all of it," Barney nodded impulsively. "I….I can't leave now. Not when I'm only just now learning to be happy."
"Indeed," the master smiled knowingly. "Then return to your work, Angel. We must clean the rooms well, for this week end we shall be having a party. A very special party.
"And I want nothing out of place. Nothing at all," he said with glittering eyes regarding Barney as a predator would a meal.
"Yes, master," Barney murmured in the soft, husky tone he was learning to employ when disguised as a maid.
"So, you and Fred have been fucking for how long," Wilma asked as she lay on one side of her husband while regarding Betty on the other side of Fred's hard, masculine frame smiling back at her as she idly stroked his semi-flaccid shaft.
Until now, he hadn't realized his decision to work out, and finally get rid of his infamous fat had been what drove Wilma nuts, and to her weird diets. She had been afraid he was losing interest in her overfed 'cow's' body, as she saw herself, and wanted to regain her own trim youthful look to keep him enticed.
Oddly enough, as the drug freed their inhibitions, and fueled their sex drive, it also relaxed them enough to speak more openly about things that were on their minds. All their minds. And so Fred learned of Wilma's self-image crisis, Betty's fears over Barney, and her long-suffering sex life, and now Wilma was learning about his one and only slip out of their marriage bed.
"Oh, it only started yesterday," Betty admitted. "Actually, I never even thought of Fred like that, until I came over to cry on your shoulder, and found him, instead. And when I hugged him, and felt that….log…"
She shivered deliciously, then grinned at her friends. "Well, how could I help but want that after almost fifteen years of nothing."
"Barney is really that small."
"We're talking thimbles," she giggled.
"You realize Fred might just have knocked you up," Wilma told her practically as she lay against her husband, content to snuggle just now as her body recovered from their last marathon of lovemaking that had finally begun to take on a more normal demeanor as the drug faded from her body. Since neither had taken as much as the day before, they were not so powerfully affected this time.
Just now, Fred didn't mind. This closeness was rather nice, too.
"You know I really love BamBam," Betty sighed, laying her head on Fred's other shoulder. "But I have always wanted my own little BamBam."
"I understand," Wilma told her. "Every woman wants to give the man they love a baby."
"Yes, but….well, Wilma, I really do think I'm falling in love with Fred."
Yikes, Fred thought, no longer quite as comfortable as he thought as he looked from the brunette's adoring gaze to the smirk on his wife's face.
"I don't blame you. But you had better remember, he's still mine. I might share him now and then with my very best friend," she smiled, reaching out to take Betty's hand as it rested over his still recovering rod, "But he's still mine, first, and foremost."
"Lucky cow," Betty giggled, and both women started laughing as Fred could only frown, not understanding them at all.
"Bam-Bam-Bam-Bam," suddenly sounded from down the hall that had the walls shaking, and the women giggled again.
"Someone is hungry," Betty interpreted.
"He's not the only one," Fred told them as he reached for a robe even as the women headed for the door, then stopped to stare at the camera.
"Fred," Wilma asked gravely.
"Uh, yeah, honey," he asked.
"You do realize that no one else can ever see this, don't you," she said as she moved the camera out of the hall into the safety of their bedroom.
Fred smiled anxiously. "I only did it on impulse. I thought….well, it'd be interesting to watch sometime later. Kind of a special moment we shared, y'know?" Both women stared at one another, then back at him.
"Yes, it was a special moment," Wilma agreed.
"But I want a copy for myself," Betty added.
"Sure, Bets," he nodded, feeling a surge of relief that they had let that go so easily.
And then he had realized the two had just walked right out of the bedroom naked. Tying the belt around his robe, he ran to the door, and saw them letting the kids out of Pebbles' room without so much as worrying about their nudity before heading for the kitchen to finish a shared supper for the lot of them.
"I almost hope Barney never comes back," Betty finally admitted as she hugged Wilma goodnight at the end of their shared evening sometime later after their meal. By then the kids were returned to their bedroom to play, and they had soon drifted back off with full bellies.
"Is he back yet," Wilma asked, looking out the kitchen window as Betty struggled back into the dress she had almost all but torn off earlier.
"I don't see any lights on," she admitted as she looked out the door after dressing.
"Stay the night," Wilma suggested impulsively. "I know BamBam would like it."
"So would I," Betty smiled, still feeling a guiltless afterglow in her well-pleased flesh as she thought back over the afternoon she had shared with her best friend, and now her lover.
And her lover's stud.
"So would I," Fred said, standing in the kitchen door with his robe parted. "Besides, the kids are both asleep again. No reason to wake them up, now, is there," he asked as he waggled his brows.
"Absolutely not," Betty whispered, and shut the door to reach for her buttons again.
The man stared in the window with the night scope, still unable to believe the casual indulgences of these suburban slugs. While they had not gone so far as some of his kinkier patrons, they carried on with an easy abandon that spoke of long familiarity. No wonder his new maid had been so keyed up if his wife, long deprived of pleasure from his tiny dick, turned to her more endowed neighbor for fulfillment. Only the little fairy's wish to have his own vengeance was of little use if both women knew of each other, and indeed, joined in the festivities with one another as well as sharing the rather attractive plebeian with a cock that actually rivaled his own.
No wonder the simpleton's wife had turned to him. The neighbor was, quite literally, hung like a horse. And he obviously knew how to use it if he was keeping two women pleasured enough to share the same bed. He had seen his share of losers over the years as he acquired, and trained slaves for the rich and famous, or rich and infamous, in some cases, but Angel was the most clueless, lackwitted simpleton he had ever met if he had not realized this was going on behind his back all along.
First, he all but put the noose around his own neck with that silly ad of his. Then when he showed up, he exhibited a submissive streak that surprised even him, and had the little fairy literally begging for any abuse he could conjure up, so long as he fucked that tight ass in the end. The first month of conditioning had taken so well, so quickly, that he moved to using the little fairy in his parties just to test his reaction to further abuses.
The bitch-boy, as he had called himself, had accepted everything his innovative guests heaped on his short little head. Even when he was knotted to a dino-pet, the masochistic slave had only wailed in delight as the animal's swelling plug kept them joined well over an hour.
That convinced him all the more that Angel would make a perfect slave, and he had started the special herbs and hormones that soon had the little maid's own tits growing, and yet even now, the clueless victim had yet to notice. By the time he had some real femme curves to go with his uniform, Angel was going to be a real, and perfectly trained fetish slave-maid, and worth a fortune on the black market. He was going to get nothing but profit from this one, since it seemed the wife was too distracted to even miss him.
He put the night glasses down, and started the vehicle, deciding he wouldn't upset this applecart. He would tell his new slave only that the wife knew, and had confronted her husband. It had been very loud, he would say, and it had. He was surprised some of the neighbors hadn't complained by now. He suspected quite a few had likely been watching.
He knew he had. It was a better performance than some of the floor shows at the club lately.
TO BE CONTINUED….