Storiesonline.net ------- Family Feud 4 by Amanda Serve Copyright© 2011 by Amanda Serve ------- Description: The continuing story of the Taylor Family. The girls have agreed to live as 'slaves' to give the guys 'payback' for cuckolding them. You are strongly encouraged to read FF1-3 first. There is a summary in the first chapter of FF4. Codes: MF mf mF reluc Blkm bi wife inc mother son bro sis fath dau D/S Mdom span BD lght humil gang anal mastrb beast lac enem exhib public prost pornThea ------- ------- Introduction Family Feud Companion I have started to keep notes of important people, places, things, and Easter eggs in my Family Feud stories. This is helpful to me, so that I do not have to hunt for these things and I may not forget them while I am writing. I thought it may be fun and appreciated if I shared my notes and insights with you. This could contain spoilers, especially if you have not read the stories yet. Family Feud to me is a really fun story to write. Stories like this usually have "Bad Guys", but I tried really hard to give motivations to the characters that not only help the reader see that things aren't always black and white, good and bad, but that over the course of the story, people will change. I think for me part of the joy of writing about them is to simply create the characters, create the situation and then play out what happens, without too much of an outline. Things just seem to organically go from there. At times, I've had to rewrite when I wasn't satisfied with where things had gone, but in general this method has served my purposes in writing the characters. They seem to naturally evolve. I don't like stories that are over just as soon as I get to know the characters. I enjoy the concept of a serial of stories about these people. I think that helps me connect to them, gives me an emotional response when they face a challenge, overcome an obstacle, get beaten up, beaten down and ultimately triumph (or fail) by what is thrown at them in the course of the story. Updated through Chapter 38 Family Feud Book IV SECTIONS: 1. MAIN CHARACTERS 2. MINOR CHARACTERS 3. MISCELLANEOUS 4. EASTER EGGS 5. FAQ (Fucking Asshole Questions, I am kidding, Frequently Asked Questions) 6. Discography MAIN CHARACTERS Bill the husband a former high school athlete in his early 40s. He hasn't been employed for a while, let himself go a little, and had a strong porn/internet addiction. He drives a beat up 2003 Black Ford Ranger Pickup. His online name is Iceman5142 Author's Note: I wanted Bill to be the typical "every guy". A flawed but relatable kind of guy. His glory days behind him, he starts off the story very irresponsible and blaming everything else but himself for his problems. I hope it becomes obvious that he is changing in often subtle but observable ways as the story progresses. Wendy his wife blossomed after she attended college, built a dynamic career as an executive, has an interest in Pilates and aerobics, chicken soup for the soul books. She considers herself the glue that holds the family together. She drove a sporty convertible Dodge Camry. It is wrecked at the end of FF1. Pet name: "Cow tits" Maiden Name: DuBois Wendy's special butt plug is a heavy stainless steel plug named 'Passport' and it was introduced in FFIV ch .17 Author's Note: I would say of all the characters, I identify with Wendy the most. You will find that even though I narrated the story from a neutral observer's viewpoint (Except in some rare cases where I intentionally shift to someone else's view), that I am often really seeing through Wendy's eyes. If I had it to do over, I might have written the story entirely from her viewpoint, but then I couldn't have explored the motivations of other people. Wendy's horoscope sign is a Leo Chris the eldest son, is a slacker's slacker. Lazy, out of shape, geeky, loves to sleep in, and half-asses just about everything he can, shirking responsibility whenever it is offered him. His 'five year' plan in high school is to stretch it out to the 6th year. Chris had a goldfish named "Milton" that he seldom took care of. Author's Note: When I created Chris, my inspiration was Chris from the show "Family Guy" and when I hear his dialogue in my head, that is the voice I hear. Chris comes across as sometimes reckless, short-attention span, and not very bright. However, I think everyone knows someone like Chris or IS like Chris themselves in that if he finds something that interests him, he will apply himself to it. He is often the only one laughing at his jokes, but that doesn't stop him from laughing. Jamie is more like her mother, a high school honor student, captain on the cheer leading team, strawberry blonde long hair, with a very positive although perhaps naïve outlook on life. Pet name "Ass face" Jamie's High School Schedule: 1st Period: Home Room with Mr. Love 2nd Period Math, female teacher unnamed. -Checkpoint with Chris. 3rd Period English with Mr Young Lunch 4th Period Health and Social Studies 5th Period Physical Education Studies, Coach Andretti 6th Period Art, Mrs Judy Morgan, idealist teacher. She some times goes by "Dixie Sinclair" and talks in a sexy southern accent. Jamie's horoscope sign is a Libra. Jamie's special butt plug is a heavy stainless steel plug named 'License' and it was introduced in FFIV ch .17 Author's Note: Jamie represents a lot of different things to me, youthful exuberance, positive attitude, someone who is an over-achiever. She is someone who has been brought up to believe in following the rules/doing what is right who is starting to learn more about reality and how sometimes you have to break a few rules. One of my inspirations for her was Taylor Swift, saddled with a kind of goody-two-shoes persona, she is everything everyone wants her to be. The Taylors live in a suburb called "Cherry Lawn Acres" although a small portion of it is called "Cherry Lawn Estates. It is built around a large golf course and the closest shopping center is called "The Loop", which features a Barnes and Noble, Best Buy, Pet Smart, Bed, Bath and Beyond, Olive Garden among other stores. MINOR CHARACTERS I would consider a minor character to have at least a speaking part, and can possibly occur in more than one chapter. There are some people so trivial as to be pointless. I will group some as a collection to make the list easier to manage. Alan, mid 40s, wears glasses, appears in Ch. 24 FF4 as one of Jamie's customers at the motel. This is actually based on one of the contest winners of something I had put in my blog. Bartholomew, Betty, big chested realtor introduced in Ch. 39 FF3 at the pool party. Bitterman, Walt: In FF3 ch .18 the "Bitterman account" is mentioned at Wendy's workplace as a hotly prized account. In FF4 ch. 15 Mr. Bitterman is a wealthy client who escorts Wendy from her final day of work. In FF4 ch. 27 Mr. Bitterman is revealed as Cathy Griffin's grandfather. Buford: Owner of Metro Adult MegaStore. Buford is a former electrician who shocked himself on the job and ended up with a large cash settlement. He is at times very excited and other times severely depressed. He is rarely completely lucid. He has at times a photographic memory, and other times no recollection of recent events. He often tries to buy things for a "Hundie" (hundred dollar bill) regardless of their actual value. He has a child-like innocence about him at times that can be unnerving. He often jams out to beats and rhythms only he can hear. He is introduced in FF3 ch .27 Cash Money: Cash Money is a pimp who drives a white Mercedes Benz. We hear about him in chapter 37 of FFIV with his girl "Goldie" and his motto A plus life. Chao: Chao and his mother are Korean shopkeepers at Flea World. They are introduced in Ch .05 of FFIV when his mother trades out Jamie's services for a tongue ring at her cousins tattoo parlor "Dragon Tattoo" (run by Ryang, his son 'Andrew' and his daughter Sun-Lee (who is kept in shameful bondage). Sun-Lee had been a cheerleader at Cherry Lawn. Cherry Lawn Cheerleaders: The cheerleaders represent some minor characters that are very tall, attractive girls from the Cherry Lawn high school. Their team is the Trojans and their colors are red and white. The most important character from this group is Cathy Griffin, who is mentioned in the section for her family. There is also a "Janet" who is a co-captain (with Jamie) of the cheer squad we meet in ch. 6 of FF1 In Chapter 5 of FF1, we learn that Bill apparently really enjoyed photographing "Veronica", one of Jamie's bests when he thought she was modeling for him (although it was because she was one of Cathy Griffin's puppets). We meet her in ch. 1, when she is mocking Chris. She has a car ... She has known Veronica since 3rd grade. In FF2, we hear of "Latisha" an attractive black girl, who is also the Principal's daughter, although she is de-enrolled following her father's sudden resignation from the school. She is only briefly mentioned. In FF3 ch. 24 "Hope Miller" is mentioned as one of "Cathy's Girls". She will be later featured when she has a melt down and tries to get out of her arrangement. Her father is apparently submissive to Cathy as well. The Rival high school is called the Union County Rams. In FF3 ch. 33 Nadia, a raven haired girl is at Dave Stravosky's party. In FF4 ch .5 Jamie mentions "Sun Lee" an Asian cheerleader who had to quit the squad because of family pressure for getting a B- (An Asian 'F'). She later meets her as the daughter of Ryang at Dragon Tattoo. Cherry Lawn Football Players: In Ch .14 of FF3 we meet three of the star players of the Trojans; Dave Stravosky #31, Noah Bentley #82 and Thad who take a picture with Jamie in the medieval stocks. Deacon Dan: A youth pastor from a church near the Taylor's House. We meet him in chapter 37 of FFIV. He gets into a car wreck and passes away. Duncan: A precocious boy who likes to grab tits, or butts when he can get away with it. Acts innocent. He was introduced in FF3 at the Spongeboob event, and then later at the pillory (sticking Ice Cream in Jamie's face). Cherry Lawn Teachers: Coach Andretti is a the male PE teacher in Jamie's Gym class. Mr. Dragovich was the lunch monitor. He caught Jamie red-handed masturbating with a banana in the boy's bathroom putting on a show. The issue was quietly dropped. He is a tall brick of a man, with a stern demeanor. He became acting principal in FFIV and attended Cherry Lawn himself. He is a former Fullback for the Trojans. Mr. Love is Jamie's homeroom teacher. He is a middle aged educator with a beard and glasses. Mr. Young is a handsome math teacher, who bears a resemblance to Jon Hamm and Mr Schuster from Glee. Mr. Murphy is a thirtyish teacher who took Jamie off the football field in Chapter 32 of FF3. Cooper: Jerry, Sheldon. Mini-me Jerry Cooper: In Accounting at Wendy's office, a fat, out of shape paper-pusher, who is often shunned in social settings. His son is Sheldon Cooper, A friend of Chris introduced in Ch. 16 of FF3, very nerdy 9th grader. Jerry doesn't have full custody of his son after a bitter divorce. He is the night manager of Metro Adult MegaStore. Jerry's ex-wife lives on 42nd Street where she has a boyfriend and Sheldon resides most of the time. In FFIV ch. 15 he becomes Wendy's handler at work. Jerry drives an ugly green car that is very messy. Mini-me: Dwarf who drives a green Chevette, is introduced in Ch .22 FFIV, he is one of Wendy and Jamie's more memorable "tricks". He chose the nickname so that people could not have power over him and insult him. Has a huge chip on his shoulder. His real name is Peter. Chris's Nerdy Friends: Some like Gerald Jenkins or Sheldon Cooper have their own entry with their family. There are others that are notable. Tsoong: This is one of Chris's nerdy Asian friends from school, he gets to date Jamie one night as part of the new arrangement she has with her family. Dalton: A Best Buy employee introduced in FF III ch. 25 who also shares an English class with Jamie. He has a friend named Reginald who works with him. We do not learn if Reginald also goes to Cherry Lawn. Griffins: Cathy, Jarrod, Nick and Heath: Cathy Griffin is a cheerleader who could be something of a sadistic mastermind. She could also just be a confused teenager who uses her sexuality like a credit card to get what she wants, and when she can't charge it to that, she uses manipulation, blackmail and her brothers to help her get her way. Her brothers appear in FF1, and the reader is left with the impression that there is an entire sub-story to the cat-and-mouse game they play with one another for control. This story continues to be hinted at and in FF4 ch. 27 Mr. Bitterman is revealed as their grandfather. Author's Note: Intentionally chose the name "Cathy Griffin", because I like the idea of when someone finds out your name is similar to a famous celebrity they assume you must like that celebrity. "Oh, like Kathy Griffin the comedienne?" and then she can roll her eyes and be "no, not like her at all!". I especially thought it would be funny to give her red hair and make her look a little like the comedienne, to further the joke. In the movie Office Space, one character's name was "Michael Bolton" and even though he was clearly named long before the singer ever performed, people would ask if he liked Michael Bolton's music. It only served to irritate him, and he had to either politely say he did or give them the truth. It was cute, so that is why I picked that name when creating this character. Eastman Academy is mentioned as prestigious school that Cathy's mother and grandmother attended (they are not named in the story). Hard Times Cast: Ellen, Savannah, Conner, Lloyd, Aunt Crystal: Ellen is the main character in another story called "Hard Times". She once lived in the same neighborhood as the Taylors, but has moved a good distance away to the "Buckman" a trailer park in a much more rural area. The closest "Town" to them is the poor side of Town where the Taylor's live. Author's Note: Life is full of silly coincidences. I think it is fun to have characters bump into each other. It is also fun to take a minor character from one story and then write this really epic saga concerning their own life. Hooker, James (Doctor): Miss Waxerman's neighbor, he spent time teaching at University, Writing and running a farm in Indiana. He appears in FFIV. Fair Boys: There are a few boy's at the fair who are mentioned in ch .8-9 of FF3, Clint, Chuck and Millhouse are about Gerald's age. They are running with Clint's older brother "Bobby Glenn" who knows Jamie from High School. Millhouse has become the 'bar' for how wide someone's eyes when they are shocked or scared (or have something unexpectedly shoved up their ass). Todd is introduced in FF3 Ch .31 when the fair boys are playing 'Magic the Gathering' with Sheldon Cooper. Author's note: I kind of based the boy's on three characters from the movie "Stand By Me". Obviously, Millhouse was nicknamed after the cartoon character on the Simpson's because he is geeky an fragile like his namesake (real name 'Levi'). Bobby Glenn is probably influenced in equal parts by sarcastic jackasses I knew growing up, and the bully "Nelson" also from the Simpsons. Fair Guy: (Ted) One of the more notable characters who kisses Wendy in ch .8-9 of FF3 is not named. He is very skeptical of what they are doing, and assumes it may be some sort of scam. He also thinks Wendy may be his friend Bill's wife (and he is right), but he assumes there is absolutely no way his friends wife would be basically naked selling kisses at the county fair, so he buys one of her kisses. In Ch. 14 of FF3 he runs into them again and spanks the girls hard in the renne faire pillory. Goldie: Goldie is a whore who belongs to Cash Money. They both assault her in chapter 37 of FFIV. Graymalkin: The very first character mentioned in the first chapter of the first book of Family Feud. He has as of yet had no speaking part. He is Bill's arch-rival on the internet always espousing the opposing political or sports related viewpoints. Hector: He also briefly appears in Hard Times, he is a heavy set tattoo artist who works at "Chicos" on the poor side of town. Jenkins: Brad Sr, Brad Jr, Janet, Gerald, Gloria: This is a family that lives in the same neighborhood as the Taylors. We first meet Gerald in FF2 (he has a small part in FF1, but is never 'seen' by the reader). He is a much younger but very bright geeky friend to Chris. Brad Sr and Janet are typical yuppie suburbanites, upwardly mobile, judgmental, not particularly proud of Gerald, extremely proud of their other two kids. Brad Sr. is a Pharmacist. Brad Jr is based loosely on Paul Rudd, Brad Cooper, John Krasinski and all those young leading men romantic heartthrobs. He attends Dartmouth and seems to have an attraction to Jamie, that he feels bad about, since he believes his brother is apparently dating her. Brad jr doesn't prefer it, but he is sometimes known as "Bradley" when his father is present. Gloria is mentioned briefly in FF3, she is apparently a very attractive girl who is NOT on the cheerleading team. Madam Chang and the Twins, Short Round: The work at "Madam Chang's Discount Novelty Emporium" in the county fair, and are introduced around Chapter 6 of FF3. In the beginning, the twins are known as Yuki and Kiko, but we later learn that is an alias and they are Robert and Neil. The reader never really knows where these people come from, as they seem to speak a smattering of Chinese, but some of the references they make are Korean, Japanese are just completely made up. Medieval Steve: In Ch. 14 of FF3, he is introduced running a medieval side-show/tomato throwing booth. He is a businessman trying to make a profit, selling over-ripe produce to gullible fair-goers in need of some old fashioned fun. The kind that the puritans and medieval villagers probably took for granted when someone was locked in the stocks for real. Author's Note: I've actually seen booths like these, and people happily walk up and pay to have their pictures taken inside them. I've seen people smush their ice-cream on someone's nose, or tease each other. The pillory isn't locked, but sometimes it's heavy enough that you can't get out without someone's help. I've also seen 'escape artist' shows where the guy escapes from a straight jacket. Medieval Steve is sort of my hybrid of all these showmen. I wanted someone who dressed the part, but by looking at his face, he just didn't look like he came from that time period. Mikey: A tattoo artist who works at the county fair, he is introduced early in FF3. He is a funny and affable guy. Quick to laugh, his personal motto is "I'll do anything but Nazi stuff". Miller: The Miller family are the subject of the short story "Halloweiner" and appear in Family Feud. Hope Miller: Cheerleader and subject of Cathy Griffin Buddy and Gabby Miller: Buddy own's a restaurant, is very active in city council and he and his wife are also submissive to Cathy Griffin. Darrell Miller: Younger brother to Hope Pewterschmidt, Van: A former Boyfriend of Wendy's older sister, and a neighbor to the Taylors. He is very succesful, handsome and charming. He has a tattoo of a tiger with red paws on his well muscled right arm. His first appearance is in Ch. 39 of FF3. Pooper Snoopers: There are some kids who come to the fence when the girls sunbathe in FF2, who do not identify themselves. They do not want to climb over the fence, just peep at the girls. The girls have nicknamed them the "Pooper Snoopers". In Chapter 37 of FF3 we learn their names are Jimmy, Gordon and Zeke (Ezekial) and they are Mrs. Waxerman's nephews. There is someone named Gary who 'takes stinky shits' that they know. Principal Banks: We never learn the first Principal of CherryLawn's name. He retires in FF2, but he is described as a black man with a deep voice in his late fifties immediately reminded Bill of "Phillip Banks" the Dad on Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. Officer Mark: Beatcop from FF4 chapter 30 with a boston accent. He is somewhat corrupt. Old Man Arcade: Early in FF3, I introduce an elderly veteran who runs an arcade of old games that are relics like he is. He has a novelty electric chair the girls use. He is never named. He reappears in FF4 in chapter 5 to subject the girls to a repaired version of the same chair. Rahjid: He is a motel owner on the bad-side of town. He has a brother-in-law who is far more successful than him, and a wife who has no speaking part in the story. The family owes him a great deal of money to get Bill's stuff at the motel out of "Hock" when he was locked out for non-payment. Rahjid comes from Bahdrak district in Ossira India. (ch .20 FFIV) Rahjid introduces the family as: "Betichod" – Bill (daughter fucker) "Randi ka larka" – Chris (Prostitutes Son) – which he shortens to "Randy" "Gaand ke Dhakan" and"Dheeli Choot" – Wendy (They were actually pointing out her Butt plug and calling her a loose cunt) "Bhai Chhod bhayee chod" – Jamie (brother fucker) Rahjid's Brother-in law's daughter's name is Urmila Devi Das, which is probably not her real name. It means "Slave of God" She is kept in bondage for becoming too American- this is explained further in chapter 25. Rahjid's Bitches: Maya- "Big Bird" – very tall transsexual hooker Ronnie- Black girl with a blonde wig Doris – Puerto Rican girl with big hair. Kid's Behind Rahjid's Motel: They live in an efficiency cabana at the end of a dirt road which is more dilapidated than the ones in the front row. We learn that their mom is Doris and that Doris has a brother who she refers to only as Hermano in ch 39 of FFIV. Dante'- male, same age as the Waxerman boys Tiontay- male, same age age as the Waxerman boys, a little more sensitive Nasty – same age as Delilah Waxerman, so named by Wendy because she seems to think just everything is 'nasty' and uses the word profusely to describe the world around her. Rapists: The three bullies introduced in Ch 32 of FF3 are named Anthony, George and one unnamed. Reggie and Reggie's Dad: Reggie is a black high school student who lives on the poor side of town and works at a Wendy's restaurant. We meet him in FF2, and in FF3 we meet him and his Dad who confront the family at a goldfish booth. Reggie's dad believes he is defending the girls. Rosco: Poor Rosco, the Taylor family's lonely dog. He is almost always chained out in the Taylor's backyard. Sargent Buzzkill: Fastidious manager of flea world introduced in FFIV. He has a habit of showing up to forbid whatever spectacle/mess the Taylors are in. He considers himself 'above' the customers and is loath to kick anyone completely out of Flea World. $ales, Buddy: Introduced in chapter two of FFIV, Buddy Sales is an elderly man equal parts Milton Berle, Phil Silvers and Sid Caesar. They meet him at a flea market. Steve (AKA Work Steve): a young executive, who works with Wendy. He was placed in charge of Wendy (by Bill) to supervise her at the office. He has been picking her up and dropping her off at work (since Wendy's car was wrecked in FF1). He sends regular status reports to Bill, believing Wendy to be a 'nymphomaniac' who is learning aversion therapy. He may actually not care why Wendy is willing to let him boss her around, give her his work, use her office and piggyback on her career, since he is regularly fucking her. Softtails Dancers/Staff – titty bar introduced in FFIV Ch .13 Easy money: Dancer who works at "Soft Tails" (AKA: The Crab Shack) introduced in chapter 13 of FFIV. Harley: Dancer and biker chick, her daughter Marlboro works there too. Bartender: Never named, looks like Sarah Silverman (but claims to not know who that is). Bouncer: Big burly biker type, never named. He says "Yeah, we get that a lot" A lot. Herbert: Regular, he is a little old drunk black man who tries to stick wadded up bills up the dancers asses. Taylor Family (Distant relatives): Early in FF2, the girl's must make "Affirmation movies" that are going to be used if they don't follow through on the agreement. They are going to be sent to 'distant relatives'. This is where we learn that Wendy has family out in Indiana who would probably very much disapprove of how Wendy is living. We learn that Wendy was raised on a farm when she was much younger. Her parents are hard working, pragmatic farmers. She has a brother (Ted) who she believes was in real estate or a broker of some kind. She has an older sister who is a former beauty pageant winner named Lisa. "Bill's Mom" is mentioned in FF1, leading the reader to conclude his dad probably isn't in the picture with her any more. She apparently lives close enough that he could go to her house by truck, but further away than his own house from Rahjid's motel. Author's Note: The real scoop is Bill's mom babied him, her perception is Wendy has 'taken him away from her', and that he may have been a star athlete had he not started working early to support raising a family. Bill did work for his dad's business, but we are never told anything about his father. Could there be some reason Bill feels he has has insecurities about his manhood that are related to him? Probably. Uncle Creepy: This is one of my favorite characters; he is very endearing to me. Spooky and quiet, he seems to have glommed on to the family like a puppy in FF3. He claims to be a security guard, although if he is, no one could tell. He always seems to be lurking around quietly, and he is so innocuous you often don't notice he is there (or that he has gone). He has not given his name in the story, so he is only known as "Uncle Creepy". Vicky Larson: "Icky with a V", we have yet to meet Vicky, only hear about her. She is apparently a peer and rival to Wendy at her place of work. She would delight in Wendy's downfall and destruction. Author's Note: I wrote Vicky based on the concept that whenever a woman works in an office, she often finds herself with a bitter rival, who she must work closely with. "Oh she is trying to destroy me!!". This is often a little dramatic hyperbole. Waxerman, Victoria: Neighborhood gossip and busybody where the Taylor's live. She is often seen walking her dog "Mr Snips". She has disapproved of Wendy for many years, but most likely this is due to a certain amount of jealousy that Wendy seemed to have a great career and an active lifestyle. Victoria was raised in the mountains but speaks like a walking thesaurus. She thinks the world of Bill Taylor, who she considers to be a simple man trying to do what is right for his family. She thinks Chris is a simpleton, but she seems to like him. She thinks Jamie is salvageable but has fallen under her mother's "Jezebel" influence. The family discovered that it was kind of amusing to push her buttons, tell her things to see how she reacts. She generally reacts with disgust, but she continues to stay seated, demanding to hear more, leading one to believe she secretly enjoys hearing all the sordid details. She introduced the family to what has become known as the "patented Waxerman Tabasco Colonic". Author's Note: I based this character in part on a few influences. I describe her as half "Granny" and half "Mrs. Jane" from the Beverly hillbillies. She has equal parts "Mountain justice/old fashioned/fundamentalist" and the snooty intellectualism of Mrs. Jane. I would also say she makes me think about "Tammy Faye Bakker". Conspirator is a movie with Elizabeth Taylor from 1949 – there is just a touch of "Aunt Jessica" from that movie as well. See also "Pooper Snoopers", her nephews Jimmy, Gordon and Ezekial. Delilah Waxerman is her favored niece, a raven haired, freckle faced southern girl with a mean streak. She is older sister to the pooper snoopers. Weird Larry: Homeless man who lives behind the Best Buy near the Taylor Household. He is introduced in Ch .25 of FFIII. He looks like Uncle Creepy except with a beard. Wilbur: Powerfully built, almost seven foot tall employee of porn store of Metro Adult MegaStore. MISCELLANEOUS This is a section for me to stick some notes about some of the rules and things that I think may be worth noting, that are not people. The Taylor Women's Bill of Rights (AKA Declaration of Independence) is introduced in ch. 1 of FF1. It contains nine articles that outline in broad terms the rules of the house. It never specifies anything kinky or sexual in nature. The intention was to use this to illustrate how structured and detailed Wendy could be, how organized in her thinking. I find that sometimes people really enjoy it when I put specific rules or bullet point things in my stories to make them stand out. "Bill's Bill" In ch .9 of FF2, we read about "Bill's Bill," it is Bill's attempt at being organized for his wife's benefit. He hasn't had a lot of time when he puts it together to change his nature as more of a 'play it by ear' kind of guy. He does a good job of trying to cover all his bases and outline the rules for the girls, but by contrast to the Taylor Women's Bill of Rights, his work is a sloppy, disorganized mess, with coffee rings and cross-outs on the papers he was working on. It was my intention that it not be iron-clad and complete. Their journey is about realizing some of the loopholes and open for interpretation clauses. The family has had a discussion about amending the bill, to clarify some things that they needed to do. The "Red Flag" is a clause where the family has a 'safety valve', it works kind of like a 'safe word' but is geared more towards discussion and resolving a conflict of rules. One of the other aspects of Bill's Bill is the three tiered punishment system. 1. Infraction: There are 10 kinds of infraction punishments that can be administered, they are light punishments intended for day to day corrections. They have almost no oversight, and can be doled out at will. The best analogy I have for these, is they are like the spurs, riding crop and reins on a horse, intended not to be abused, but for use to get things done. 2. Correction: There are cards in a fishbowl that represent much more difficult punishments (although a tiny few are actually treats, so that the girls can hold out hope). The correction is for more serious rule breaking and follows a more formal process. At this point in the story, the girls have been such good girls, they haven't had many corrections. 3. Judgment: This is the highest level punishment. It is for the biggest issues there can be, sort of Bill's idea of a "Supreme Court" except only he gets to decide. (Which is interesting, because he told Chris they were equal in all things). So far, this has not come up in the story. "Bill's First Amendment" introduces new rules and refinements to "Bill's Bill" in FF3 Ch. 23. It includes the concept of W.H.O.R.E as it relates to the core values of the house to be instilled into the Taylor women. W - Working. Producing tangible goods and services for the Taylor Men. Dates who pay to be escorted by the Taylor women can "Tip" a number of W's at the end of the date equivalent to the courtesy they were extended by the females. H - Humiliation. Acceptance and participation in both humiliation dares, and living a life that recognizes and encourages your humility. O - Obedience. Demonstrating a willingness and desire to obey your betters. R - Respect. Show your respect to those in authority. This should not be confused with normal expected protocols of Taylor women. Saying "Sir" is a sign of respect, but this letter is awarded when sluts go above and beyond normal expectations. E - Enthusiasm. Taylor Men don not want robots. We expect you not only to participate, but to participate enthusiastically. To earn this letter, you should be suggesting your own dares, or helping in your own discipline. You should do your chores and complete your assignments, no matter how unpleasant with a pleasing face and attitude. POSITIONS: There are a few regular positions that come up every now and then. Attention: This is a type of parade rest that was used in FF1, and is based on something Wendy had posed for in college. It involves standing straight up, eyes straight ahead, legs apart, hands behind you, resting on your ass cheeks. The rest were introduced in FF2 or later: Inspection position one/ "First Position": Stand up with legs shoulders width apart, chest out, head straight. Hands placed on ass cheeks pulling them both apart, and knees slightly bent. Inspection position two/"second position": Bent at the waist, knees more bent, and holding ass apart, Squat: Spread knees apart squatting, cup her tits with her hands, and look straight ahead. Ass should be parallel to the ground. This is the default position for "ringing the bells" at the house (under green alert). Curtsy: This is a formal curtsy, involving dropping the head (submissively), bending at the knee, and pulling one's skirt out (or imaginary skirt if naked). Spread-Clench-Release: Are one word commands that Chris taught the girls to pull apart their breasts or ass cheeks and take some object to deliver it some place else. The context depends on which way the girl is facing when she gets the order and what he has in his hand at the time. Affirmation position –doggy – forehead touching the ground, ass facing the person you are giving the affirmation to with both hands pulling cheeks apart. The girls are taught when they replace butt plugs to stand or crawl butt to butt and insert them for each other – to work as a team in FFIV ch. 19 FFIV ch. 34 they added S.H.I.T for advanced whoring S. –Sexuality. You are to fuck, suck, lick, tongue, rim, nibble, nuzzle, kiss, rub, massage, anyone or anything we say, how we say, when we say, and for whatever amount of money we say – that includes Roscoe. H- Humorous. You must make Chris and I laugh with your pathetic antics, the way you do in white alert situations and by oinking and wallowing in your piggyness. If we are to get something out of this besides fucking you – it is that. I - Impress. You must each compete with each other daily to impress us. Who is the bigger slut? Who is better at sucking dicks? Who can hold the most cum in her mouth the longest. You will both be graded in competition with one another. T- Training – you must continue your education in discipline. You must sleep bound up to avoid getting into mischief, accept our punishments and consequences and defer to our wisdom. You eat, shit, walk, talk the way you have been taught for the duration of your commitment – That includes at the internet user's forum unless I give you express permission to pretend to be a trophy wife and over-achieving cheerleader. CATCH PHRASES Just a few of the more commonly used 'catch phrases', that people often find themselves using. "pulled a Jamie!" – If you really like something, fudge ice cream, then Chris intends to say "Pulled a Jamie", he is looking forward to running into someone who really likes something so he can use the expression. This a reference to Jamie's uncontrollable mega-orgasm in FF3 due to over-stimulation on many levels. The scene was the equivalent to the diner in when Harry Met Sally, except picture Meg rolling around on the floor mewling and writhing for real for about 10 minutes. "bros before ho's" The Taylor men like to fist bump and say this. The girls have adopted a cute "ho's after bro's" fist bump in ironic solidarity with one another. "Taylor men come first" intended as a double entendre, for cumming first in sex, this is one of the new household mantras from ff2 "You know a whore's mouth is only good for two things. sucking and swallowing" - FFIV chapter 29 "boys rule, girls drool" this is based on a t-shirt that Jamie used to wear (which had the opposite sentiment) as a little girl. Apparently, it bothered Chris enough to remember it, and the guy's adopted it as their official house motto in FF2. "You think your shit don't stink" – A common accusation of the girls, so much so it deserves mention. It is speaking to the fact that the girls really aren't as critical of themselves as they are the men. "Give it the old college try" – A saying that Bill thinks is intended as an insult towards him, since he did not go to college. In FF3 we learn it's real meaning has been lost over time, and that Wendy originally told herself that when struggling to get through college, overcome difficult odds and be a good wife. Say something long enough and it's original context gets forgotten. "Cock is Cock" in FF3 in CH. 21 Wendy reveals this is a slogan she has to pretend she lived by, to keep up the pretense that she is a sex addict to Steve at work. EASTER EGGS Easter eggs are a way of hiding little inside jokes, homages, "thank yous", and inspirations in a story. They are not supposed to be 'obvious', hence the reason you would have to hunt for them. I may have actually buried some other Easter eggs and simply forgot I did that. You will also find quotes (and famous misquotes), jokes and pop culture references throughout the story. I am not sure if those would really qualify as "Easter Eggs". I did try to cuss in several different languages (German, Chinese). I'll keep at that. I have enjoyed slipping in actual information into the story, the history of enemas for instance. Some things. Here is a list of some of the Easter Eggs that I can remember including by story: Family Feud One: The Griffin brothers are named for the brothers in "Big Valley"; Jarrod, Nick and Heath. I am not a fan of the show or anything. It just seemed humorous to me. Family Feud Two: In Chico's tattoo parlor, the kids in the waiting room are from another story I wrote called "Hard Times". When Brad Jenkins is introduced – the name was chosen because "Brad" or "Bradley" is such a common name for the love interest or the 'good guy' in humiliation stories by popular authors that I thought it was sort of an homage to use that cliché'. Family Feud Three : At Mikey's tattoo gazebo, the woman who is finishing her tattoo is from another story I wrote called "Hard Times", she is "Aunt Crystal". She is also apparently an ex-girlfriend of Mikey. The Chang Twins, Robert and Neil are a play on words, for "Bob and Kneel". Some of the people who talk to (or avoid) the girls when they are dancing in front of Chang's are based on people who have written to me about the story. At least, their alter-egos are what I think they may be like. In Ch. 7 of FF3, I refer to something that happened verbatim in Ch. 7 of FF2. In Ch. 12 I mention a fight breaks out between two girls. I plan to have this to appear in a future story from the perspective of the girls fighting. In Ch. 14 I quote a lot of Shakespeare in context of the story. The title is actually a famous misquote of Shakespeare. I find that ironic, but considering it is a kind of mini-Renne Faire, and Renne Faire is more about fun than historical accuracy, the misquote is apropos. It also sums up the chapter nicely. When thinking of a rival high school for Cherry Lawn, I picked the name Union County Rams because; Union County High is an actual high school where the students tried to film porn between classes. Who knows if their reasons were an aspiring blackmailer like Cathy Griffin, or just young, dumb and full of cum girls were willing to be filmed and people can buy video cameras on the cheap. I named their mascot the "Rams", since the Cherry Lawn Trojans are also a brand of condom. In both Wendy and Jamie's journals I reference some of the same events from two different perspectives. I also have them express the exact same sentiments about each other helping "Be their rock". I assume they talked about this at some point, and came away with the shared opinion. I also have Wendy describe her dream in detail, while I have Jamie talk about having a dream and saying only a truly wicked bitch would write down the sordid details of a dirty dream. It is funny to me, since neither are privy to each other's journals (or know about each other's dreams). In Ch. 24 "Spanker in the Rye", I have done an homage to one of my favorite books, Catcher in the Rye. I have taken quotes or themes from the book and incorporated them (in context) to the chapter. I also write the journal in a style similar to the way that book was done. As an interesting aside, I also did something I wish more stories would do. I had the girls find out their punishments, but they will be left to stew and think about them for a while before they are carried out (in another chapter). This also means the reader can contemplate them for a little while, instead of just hearing what the punishment is and immediately reading it. A little more suspense and tension. In Ch. 25, I add "Korean" to the list of languages that have made it into the story. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bw9CALKOvAI This is the link to the song "Bubble Pop" by Hyuna if you want to hear it. In ch. 20 FFIV I add Hindi to the list of languages The chapter title for 20 comes from something on Saturday Night Live that a fox news commentor said cryptically - Two Truths, One Lie and a Million Secrets Family Feud IV: I wanted to paint Mr. Dragovich as the "Only Principal in the history of sex stories that was not a sex maniac." They are either like Mr. Drysdale from Beverly Hillbillies except instead of money – about sex or they are a cuckold to someone who pulls their strings. I wanted him to be a normal nice guy who plays by the rules when he can – but he has needs. Probably one of the only times you'll see a porn story with a Principal like that. CHAPTER 9 of FF2 – FULL RULES "Bill's Bill" Was illustrated, in the margins, penis's shooting off dashed lines into stars, and boobs with big round nipples, words like "ASS" underlined. There was an almost artistic modern calligraphy to the margin art. Cornucopia with fruit, and dildos, it was kind of garish, but it really was creative. READERS NOTE: The organization of Bill's Bill is all over the place and a bit of a mess. Hand written notes with scratch out marks. What follows is a taste of some of Bill's Bill in the patch-work style he wrote it in but summarized for your benefit. This is in direct contrast to Wendy's "Bill of Taylor Women's Rights" from the first Family Feud story which was organized and followed a more analytical line of thinking. The outline/highlights were as follows: This will be written in plain legible lettering by the women, and placed on the doors. "We are a often times nude household that also involves BDSM (Bondage Discipline, Sadism and Masochism) relationship, where the women living here are submissive to others within the house. The women of the house MUST be respectful and subservient at all all times. This is a consensual relationship and NOT required of any non consenting females." It also outlined that the old Taylor women's bill of rights will be torn in half, by each of the Taylor women, who will then wipe it thoroughly with their own asses, and pussies and they will then both be required to eat the paper. They will then admit it was a bad idea to EVER try to be above a man, because in the Taylor Household, Men rule and girls drool! This will be filmed on webcam. The Taylor women will also each pose with a copy of bill's bill and a sign saying "I agree" for 5 pictures that will be stored digitally. These poses will be naturally humiliating so that the viewer can easily tell that the women willingly put themselves into this predicament in order to confirm their willingness to carry out the terms. If they should fail to meet their end of the terms of the agreement, then the pictures of both of them may be released to friends, and family members through the internet. This includes Wendy's mother and father who live in Indiana. If the women complete the terms of the agreement, they will be granted the only copies of these pictures and any other confirmation evidence held by the men. The Men were defined as Bill and Chris Taylor, AKA "Masters", "Sirs" and "Owners". The Women were defined as Wendy and Jamie Taylor AKA "Sluts", "Skanks" and "Whores". Family Motto: "Boys Rule, girls drool." It then went on to define Speech protocol: -That there would be verbal as well as physical humiliation, in the form of rude awakening affirmations in both public and private. -Rules about honesty, and lies and how the women were natural schemers and manipulators and had to be kept under tight scrutiny to avoid it. -Rules and examples, about having to say what you mean, and mean what you say. A good example, was having to ask to shit or piss, because the vulgarity amused the owners. It also talked about just keeping your word and finishing what you started. Punishments: -The most detail was reserved for this section of the document. There were three tiers or levels of punishment. 1. Infractions 2. Corrections 3. Judgments There were ten kinds of basic day to day punishments. Called "Infractions". These were simple tools they could use to help motivate and control the women, affirm their position, and as long as there was no over use at home the men were free to use any combination of the following: 1-Time Out/Restricted movement 2-Shock- things that go buzz 3-Elements - Freezing bra/thong, ice cubes held in mouth, ice, heat, water, air, various low level versions of using the world itself and mother nature to teach us a lesson. 4-Beating- Blunt pain/whips/floggers 5- Food -diet control, eating something nasty 6- Bathroom -bathroom control 7- Sexuality. - using tits/ass to punish sluts, holding self open obscenely/wiggling 8 Endurance -jumping jacks, high stepping 9 furniture - Be furniture 10 Dance - Dance in place for a period of time Bill hadn't explained the detail around these in the document, assuming that the bullet points stood for themselves He did however explain verbally that his use of the bathroom, was to deny them a privilege of privacy, that women enjoy. Citing that men piss in urinal troughs, or on tire trucks, they enjoy farting in elevators with their buddies and then jumping out right at their floor, leaving them stuck with the smell. He said women generally like things tranquil and peaceful, and can enjoy a satisfying time alone. So just like denying a man sex, he felt denying them a satisfying shit alone on the toilet, or something delicious to eat, was as close as he could come. The sexuality he said, that even though his daughter was "theoretically" a virgin, she obviously knew how to tease and taunt boys, to get what she wants, just like her mom, and so the power and control of being attractive wouldn't be denied her, as much as it would be turned back against her, so she could see the opposite point of view. Men view sluts with a certain disdain not reserved for angelic pretty young things, so it suited him just fine his daughter would have herself taken down a peg or two, or three and be seen as a slut. This would make her powerless, unable to summon the white knights who so often come out to stand up for a girl whose done nothing but manipulate with her beauty. "Helen of Troy" he said without explaining why. Bill explained two other tiers of punishment, and that infractions could under certain circumstances be applied in public places. He gave examples of how that would have to be done in a way that suited the crime at hand, feeling that addressing a discipline issue when it happens was much better. The other two tiers of punishment were a little fuzzier. They had created "Corrections" on index cars. Some of them were actually going to be treats, but most Bill explained, were going to be much harsher forms of infractions. These were for much more harsher situations, when the girls tried to defy them, or had a severe discipline problem. They would have to apologize for what they did and then ask to draw from the correction bowl (Which had at one time been Chris's goldfish bowl, but he had long since stopped feeding that fish). The third tier of punishment, was called Judgments and only Bill could hand them out. They were for the most severe issues, extreme defiance or neglect. Bill could terminate the service of either girl, and elect to send out all their dirty photos and videos that had been taken as confirmation they were willing to do this, if the girl did not agree to the punishment that Bill felt suited the situation. This was a type of check and balance. Bill having actually listened to his wife a time or two, knew that she would like a couple "Safety valves" in the contract. This was one of them, so that should his solution punishment not suit the girls, they had the option of basically ending things as long as they were willing to endure the photos out in the internet. Bill also defined a "Naughty Book" that would be used to record wrong doings the girls did. It was really a sheet of paper to be placed on magnets on the fridge. However, each man was also going to be able to carry a sheet of paper in his back pocket to write down things, he may not have time to address or been able to address. These will be gone over at family meetings and sentences carried out accordingly. Apologies: Bill outlined a three step apology process where the woman would first admit her mistake and apologize for it. Then she would beg forgiveness, and then be punished. Dating and Fidelity: Any and all marriage vows of monogamy will be completely overlooked during the education period. The women are to think of themselves as sluts, but sluts in the service of their owners, and will always first have to gain permission when anything kinky happens. There were some scratches around the word "Dating?" and "$$$", with a lot more drawings and doodles in this section making Wendy think Bill sort of skimped on this section. Red Flag: As the Taylor women are by their very nature skeptical and not trusting of their betters, the women would be likely to question and potentially hesitate in carrying out their orders. There were some lines scratched through explaining examples from the previous day where the girls seemed in doubt about going through with this entirely. This section outlined an opportunity for males or females to call "Red Flag" for rare conditions, when they feel things have gone too far. Things will be backed down, people will cool off and within 72 hours a family meeting will be had to address it. If the females are doing this to get out of something that has already been resolved, then shall receive at the very least a correction, and more likely a judgment against them. Nothing was specified if the men needed to call a red flag and it turned out to be unnecessary. Limits: Bill didn't put a lot of explanation here, at least not enough for Wendy's liking. They had incorporated the analogy of the "radio dial" from the night before, except the drawing of the dial looked suspiciously like a big fat nipple. In his example, he made several lists and numbered them 1-10, each number on the list grouping like behaviors together. -Humiliation At level one, it was flashing a nipple to a stranger, at level two a pussy, and so on up to level ten where several implausible scenarios outlined being naked at a circus, beach, "and so on", making Wendy wonder what and so on was. -Bondage/Pain At level one this was simple hand cuffs, or a whip to the boob or butt, by level three it was it was being in a cage, or having a gag in, and it went up to ten with more over the top scenarios such as being hung upside down on a cross while a motorcycle gang beats you. There were dozens of examples at every level on the radio dial all increasingly harsher. -Sexuality At level one it was sort of first base, kissing and hugging, and the next level second base with being felt up, and groped, and on it went, up to and including sex with dogs, gangbangs and the like at level ten. Wendy wondered if Bill just felt the need to be complete, or did he have any intention of doing these things? Bill didn't actually define where the line was drawn, as much as he simply seemed to be defining his terms here. So he could refer to "Bondage at about a level four" He seemed to be indicating there would be a balanced three-pronged focus to address shortcomings using tools of scorn and ridicule for humility, pain both physical and mental and that the sexuality seemed to address the shrew-fulness of the women, their frigidity. This seemed kind of odd to two girls who had strings tied around their clit hoods, naked on the carpet, that THEY would be considered shrewful, but Bill explained before they could ask that it was all BEFORE their education would begin he was referring too. Hygiene and the importance of women being women: Here Bill outlined his belief in a 1950s style household, which he described a bit like walking with books on your head to gain perfect posture, to become a June Clever/Tv Land style/Norman Rockwell's version of a stepford wife. This seemed to be a philosophy in direct contrast with the harsh and often brutal trainings on the radio dial above. This part of the document then went into exact specifications about everything from make up, to brushing teeth, to bathing, and menstrual cycles. He underlined "Why are they always in Synch??!?" Reading this caused Jamie and her mom to giggle a little. There was a little more on the panty rags used to gag them, and the bitch box, and some other rules and regulations about street legal clothing and appropriateness. Although it seemed to suggest it was appropriate for sluts to be dressed like sluts. Work/School: This explained that the women would continue to go to work and school as normal. It explained that there would be dietary/dress restrictions and certain motivating forces at school but failed to go into a lot of detail. Jamie got the impression that she was going to have to report to Chris throughout the day, and he would be checking up on her. Wendy wasn't sure how she would manage her job as an executive project manager, and still play Bill's games. This was an area that put a lot of butterflies in her stomach and questions in her head. Virtues of the Good Slut: This was interesting, to Wendy. it was surprising it was so far down in Bill's list, but as he had hand wrote it, it probably was stream of consciousness as he wrote his sections. Humility Obedience Patience Endurance He went on to outline them, pointing out the acronym "HOPE" Humility: Humility means the absence of Pride. A slut with Pride is a slut who holds herself above others, who feels slut is 'too good' to grin and bear the daily grind. To this end, a slut must be willing to be subjected to Humiliations and embarrassments designed to remove her of this vanity called Pride. Obedience: Obedience means that the slut is not only required to do what slut 'likes' to do, but that slut must submit to truly obey even when the tasks contains some element of hard work, disgusting or even silly. To obey is the purpose of the slut, and slut must exhibit the traits not only to her Owner but to those around her who are themselves not sluts. slut must be willing to undergo the trials and tribulations and present herself for this work despite her hardships and suffering for her Owner will offer her no sympathy. Patience: Fast Paced short attention spans are the way of the world in our vanilla societies, but a slut must exhibit the patience to wait, and listen. slut must be prepared to invest the time to do a job correctly, but by the same token slut may not 'drag ass' and should not purposely move too slowly in her duties. Endurance: Endurance is not unlike Obedience, with the exception that the slut realizes slut must endure much suffering and hardships to serve in this life. The slut will have to endure serving others with her body and time. Then he went on to outline the shortcomings of HIS slut. Anal-Retentive Perfectionism Too Critical Selfish and Self-absorbed Manipulative Can't be wrong Stingy with time, affection and attention. Favoritism (Both sluts stick together). CHAPTER 23 of FF3 - FULL RULES Bill' and Chris's First Amendment We the Men of the Taylor household, in order to form a more Perfect Society, and to insure our Domestic Tranquility have decided to enhance the original Bill with this amendment. While this amendment is designed to clarify the original Bill, where there is conflict between the Bill and this amendment, this amendment takes precedence. As the girls are to be treated equally under the rules of the house, any and all females shall endure them equally while under training. Article One – Terms of Chastity Chastity devices will be offered to the girls at meaningful times when it is appropriate for them to wear them. If the girl's want to put them on, then their bottom holes are essentially off limits for training, games, dares, or play by anyone (including themselves). They can only remove them by getting permission from "key holders" who will supervise the removal and prompt re-application of the device so that they do not play with themselves while it is off. If the girls do not put them on when given the opportunity then bottom holes are in play. This includes being touched, inspected and played with when instructed by Taylor men or authorized supervisors. It will still be punishable for sluts to play with themselves without permission and may be considered an "correction".(2nd level punishment) Stretching and kegel exercises may be ordered when chastity belts are not worn. Girls go without them at their own risk. The girls do not have to take more than one finger of penetration in their holes if Chastity belts are not worn. Exceptions: Willingly choose a game, contest, dare or other activity that is understood by her to include a cock, she will be required to finish the activity including servicing the cock, or suffer an appropriate penalty. As part of marital obligations. If there is no practical way to wear the chastity belt, due to swimming or showering, the owners will notify the girls they have "Free Hole Time". They will be treated as if they had on chastity belts, but they do not have to wear them. Girls are still forbidden from playing with themselves or touching themselves without permission. Free Hole Time may only be granted by Taylor men or handlers. Article Two- Letters While stars can still be earned by performing a specific dare that has a star as a reward, those are designed to be hard to do, and failure is expected for most dares ( anything worth doing is never easy). The Stars chart the progress towards the completion of the training program. We shall introduce a letter system that will provide the Taylor men with a more flexible incentive system for moderately complex tasks. Letters will be awarded for specific, measurable tasks and dares, and contest awards, but also when a Taylor girl is caught "doing something right" When she demonstrates the spirit of submission, that is spelled out in the letters she can be awarded the appropriate one. Each letter corresponds to a different Taylor woman value. Trivial activities of little consequence or normal protocol will carry with them no letter reward. There are five letters, each symbolizing a specific core belief that will be instilled in the training. Once a female collects a set of all five letters, they will immediately be converted into a star. The letters (and what they symbolize) are: W - Working. Producing tangible goods and services for the Taylor Men. Dates who pay to be escorted by the Taylor women can "Tip" a number of W's at the end of the date equivalent to the courtesy they were extended by the females. H - Humiliation. Acceptance and participation in both humiliation dares, and living a life that recognizes and encourages your humility. O - Obedience. Demonstrating a willingness and desire to obey your betters. R - Respect. Show your respect to those in authority. This should not be confused with normal expected protocols of Taylor women. Saying "Sir" is a sign of respect, but this letter is awarded when sluts go above and beyond normal expectations. E - Enthusiasm. Taylor Men don not want robots. We expect you not only to participate, but to participate enthusiastically. To earn this letter, you should be suggesting your own dares, or helping in your own discipline. You should do your chores and complete your assignments, no matter how unpleasant with a pleasing face and attitude. Taylor women must have a complete spelling of WHORE to obtain a star. Taylor women will memorize the core values and when asked about their tattoo will admit they are whores to their Taylor Men. They will also volunteer enthusiastically that each letter is to remind them of one of the core values and if the person wants to hear it, they are to explain each letter patiently. The Taylor women are also to understand the principles of "HOPE", Humility, Obedience, Patience and Endurance from the original rules. The WHORE values reinforce and overlap those core principles. Article Three- Hierarchy In the Taylor Family, men come first, women come second in all things. In order to establish a more orderly household, the Taylor men may now promote and demote individuals to the following roles. The roles are listed from highest to lowest. Owner: The Taylor Men, Bill and Chris own the Taylor women equally. This is the highest rank within the house and entitles them to all privileges and authorities jointly. They will make decisions together, and handle judgments together. It can be assumed that when one Owner speaks, he speaks with the authority of both owners on all matters. Handler: A Handler will be granted a silver key that they may present as proof of their status. This key will unlock the chastity belts worn by the females of the house. The Handler is a supervisor who has been entrusted to act as an agent of the Owner. They can oversee and conduct infraction, inspections and report all behavior warranting corrections and judgments to the Owners if they are not present. Handlers have permission to enforce "infraction" level discipline and correct all Taylor females. Handlers can award no more than 10 letters per day(in total). Handlers may change alert levels (see article six). To be a Handler, one must prove they understand all ten types of "infractions" and be a trustworthy individual. They must show sound judgment when changing alert levels and instructing the females. Steve and Cathy Griffin are Handlers. Key Holder: A key holder may be a temporary title granted for a period of time, or a person may hold that rank permanently. A key holder will be granted a bronzed key that they may present as proof of their status. This key will unlock the chastity belts worn by the females of the house. Key holders may not punish the Taylor women, but they can report their behavior and award no more than 5 letters per day (in total). Key holders may not change alert levels. This is a role primarily intended for men who will be dating the Taylor women. They have direct supervisory capability even though they may not punish. They may inspect at appropriate times under the right protocol. It is the responsibility of the owners to fully discuss the rules for taking our sluts out in public. This includes the "Seven Rules for Dating" (Article Four). Owners can require a cash deposit and ID from any key holder they do not personally know before permitting them in this role. Key holders may not forbid the girls to put back on their chastity belt. If the chastity belt is on they may not play with or insert objects or fingers into any of the slots or openings in the belt. Authority: A special role for principals, teachers, fire men, employers, police officers, and any one in a position to arrest, obtain, suspend, or fire someone. An automatic condition of "Red Alert" (See Article six) applies when they are present unless otherwise implicitly ordered by an Owner. Sir/Ma'am: Any one over the age of nine years old, who is not in any of the other roles. They will be treated with respect as the better of the girls. They will only be referred to by their name if they request it, or as ordered by a key holder or higher. Child: Anyone nine or younger, who is not in any of the other roles. They will be treated with respect as the better of the girls, however they will be referred to by their name. Whore: The females of the house, who are owned and trained by the males of the house. They will labor, serve and amuse their betters whenever possible and live the virtues of WHORE and the values of HOPE whenever possible. Pig: A role reserved for females of the house who have proven they are not benefitting from our generous education and discipline program. This role requires stricter discipline, harsher penalties. The Pig will not walk on two legs at home without special permission except during red alert protocol. The pig role will automatically be applied if either Taylor girl fails to get all of her stars within 30 days of the start of her training. It is intended to be an incentive to hurry up. It will be the duty of all Taylor women to recognize and respect each role according to their status. Article Four – Rules for Dating My Wife or Daughter (key holder rules) (Formerly the "Seven Rules for Dating My Teenage Daughter") ONE-No back talk from her, she'll eat what you order her, she'll watch any movie you want without complaint. She'll listen to anything you say, and let you finish your thoughts completely before she speaks. TWO--She'll show deference to you, she'll call you and any male she encounters Sir, and any female "Ma'am" with few exceptions. She is not to flirt with others unless you want her too while she is under your supervision. You may ask her questions about her discipline, and the core values of the house if it interests you. She is not to bore you with those details and protocols unless you explicitly ask for explanations. Please understand the girls are being trained in ways of humility, obedience, patience and endurance. They will remain submissive for the entirety of the date unless you act in an unstable or dangerous manner or violate any of the conditions of these rules. Then they have my permission to contact me, and there will be repercussions, including the possible loss of your deposit. THREE--She is to sit without crossing her legs. She isn't a proper lady, so don't expect that. FOUR--She is to sit and walk straight up, not slouch. FIVE---She'll ask permission to piss or shit, and she needs to tell you which. You can only make her wait up to 15 minutes, and you can't make her do it in public places. SIX--- Other than the bathroom, you are not to let her out of your sight. If she does have to go to the bathroom, or you have to excuse yourself to go, you should stuff her panties into her mouth so she doesn't talk to anyone else. She may require you to let her out of a chastity belt. You should observe her the entire time. She is not permitted to play with herself. She can wipe quickly and promptly put the belt back on. You may not touch her pussy or ass, if she removes her chastity belt for this purpose. SEVEN---You may not discipline them, or have sex with them. This includes playing with her tits, mouth or ass (see exceptions). You may however handcuff her hands behind her back as long as it is done discretely especially if you feel she is up to any sort of shenanigans. You may make out with them for up to ten minutes on my porch before you drop them off, if you are dropping them off on time and have time left. You may pinch/twist, play with tits, or kiss open mouth during the ten minute "good bye session" even if she has on a chastity belt. You may want to keep a running list of things you feel they did wrong, that were not pleasing or in the spirit in which you rented them. We will cheerfully correct their behavior when they get home, but no refunds will be issued under any circumstances. Exceptions: If the girl did not wear a chastity belt to the date, you may pinch, twist, touch tits, mouth, clit or ass. You may not penetrate the asshole or cunt with more than a finger. Article Five- Bells There will be two distinct bells purchased for the whores of the house. Each Taylor woman will learn the sound of her bell and will come immediately to the source of the bell. In Green Alert (See article six) When she arrives, unless otherwise instructed she is to take the "Squat position". Spread knees apart squatting, cup her tits with her hands, and look straight ahead. Ass should be parallel to the ground. In Yellow Alert When she arrives she is to kneel on the floor, legs apart, palms on thighs facing upwards. In Red Alert When she arrives she is to stand with hands behind back, eyes straight ahead, chest out. This is the summoning bell, and failure to arrive promptly can result in an "correction" level punishment for extreme tardiness. It will only be a correction for arriving when someone else's bell is rung. The slut should arrive cheerful and pleasant, ready to carry out the order of whoever rang her bell. Article Six- Alert Levels In order to respond in agile and appropriate manner to changes in social settings, owners and key holders may change the "Alert Level" in their immediate presence. With a single phrase everyone must conduct themselves according to the new alert and their role. It is imperative that everyone appear to be consistent in their behavior and not disagree when an alert is changed. This is for the benefit of outsiders who may not fully understand or appreciate our agreement. Green Alert- This is the assumed protocol unless otherwise stated. At home: Taylor women are to be naked (unless ordered otherwise). They should not talk out of turn. They will behave in the generally accepted manner according to the whore/hope value system. They are not permitted to use the toilet, and should ask permission whenever in doubt for anything. Infractions, Corrections and Judgments can be administrated. They can be ordered to openly masturbate others or themselves. They should sit with legs apart, and may not use furniture. In public: Taylor women will be braless, without panties, in collars and heels (unless ordered otherwise). They should not talk out of turn. They will behave in the generally accepted manner according to the whore/hope value system. They are permitted to use the toilet, and should ask permission whenever in doubt for anything. Infractions, Corrections and Judgments can be administrated. They can be ordered to openly masturbate others or themselves only in private or semi-private surroundings. They should sit with legs apart, and may use furniture. Yellow Alert- This is a protocol of caution, behavior is limited. Taylor women will be trained how to behave under Yellow Alerts so as not to embarrass their owners with their crass and slutty manners. At home: Taylor women are to be clothed (unless ordered otherwise). They should not talk out of turn. They will behave in the generally accepted manner according to the whore/hope value system. They are not permitted to use the toilet, and should ask permission whenever in doubt for anything in a quiet manner without alerting anyone "Authority" level or lower. Punishments will not be openly discussed, and will be administered later. They should sit with legs apart, and may not use furniture. In public: Taylor women will be braless, without panties, in collars and heels (unless ordered otherwise). In all other ways, this functions as the "At Home" protocols. They should sit with legs apart, and may use furniture. It will be assumed at work or school, Taylor women are at Yellow alert unless otherwise specified by a Handler or higher level authority. Red Alert- This is the highest level of discretionary protocol available. This is reserved for special situations where decorum and modesty are expected, even of sluts and whores like the Taylor women. Court appearances, parent teacher conferences, church ceremonies, etc. At home: Taylor women are to be clothed. They should not talk out of turn. They will behave in the generally accepted manner according to the whore/hope value system. They are not permitted to use the toilet, and should ask permission whenever in doubt for anything in a quiet manner without alerting anyone "Authority" level or lower. Punishments will not be openly discussed, and will be administered later. They should not sit with legs apart, and may use furniture. In public: Taylor women will be braless, without panties, in collars and heels (unless ordered otherwise). In all other ways, this functions as the "At Home" protocols for red alert. White Alert- This is a "fun status". The Taylor women are to behave as if they are wanton sluts in need of correction and guidance. It is intended for use when Mrs. Waxerman visits or in her presence in order to shock her. The Taylor women will practice and be trained how to behave in the most amusing and generally outrageous way, in order to push buttons. The "Alerts" were all Chris's idea. I had to admit they seemed like a good addition. I am sure the girls would have a lot of questions about when, what, where, and how often and with who. They always did. That being said, I added them down to my amendment and decided I would demonstrate the protocols with them when we were in public. I would also have a "Black Alert" for Wendy. I wouldn't write that one down, but I'll go over it with her when we are alone. This is for when she is at work, and she needs to maintain her cover story with Steve and her co-workers. Under that protocol, no chastity belt is allowed, and she won't have to call her co-workers Sir. We'll keep Jamie and Chris from finding out about it, as long as Wendy keeps up her end of our little bargain. She'll need to purposely sacrifice stars so she never exceeds Jamie, and of course do all those extra things that a cum gobbler like her has to do. Jamie's "Emergency" Blowjob Rule – Introduced towards the end of FFIII in chapter 40, the girls can perform blowjobs for $10 and handjobs for $5 when they are unable to find Bill or Chris to give them permission. They will be punished if they willingly perform these for others without getting the permission or the money. Items Purchased in Chapter 27 of FF3 at Porn Megastore That is why he had already picked out: A studded black leather cat of nine tails whip Matching red rubber ball gags Twin spreader gags (The kind that hold the mouth open) A purple feather tickler (putting back the pink one he saw, since it didn't feel as 'manly') Two satin blindfolds Leather anklets that attached by chain to a belt, that also chain the wrists. Two general purpose 30 inch 'spreader bars' to hold feet apart Two general purpose 18 inch 'spreader bars' for arms bound behind back. A studded leather paddle (which he repeatedly cracked in his hand to enjoy the sound) 4 Quart Flowmaster Double bag Complete Colon Cleansing Enema Kit w/stand (should impress Mrs. Waxerman) Assorted chain leashes and clips, metal weights Chris picked out: Liquid latex (various colors, mostly flesh or red and white in 16oz bottles) Fetish fantasy series anodized cuffs (2 pair) Twin Lelo sensua suede whips – black (for him and his Dad or to use in each hand) Two black silicon penis gags (in and out so it can be reversed, 2 inches one direction, 4 inches the other) Leather "Arm Binders" (sleeves that buckle behind) Two "Titty Presses" that can apply pressure to the breasts. Udderly E-Z™ Goat Milker (heavy duty breast pump with 4 suction cups) Optional Udderly E-Z™ adjustable silicon cup inserts for various sized teats. Sheepskin massage mittens (2 pair) fingerless Rahjid's rules: Introduced in Chapter 20: 21 of FFIV RULES OF THE "GAME" The Pimps make the rules, and the Ho's suck the dicks. We will never undercut the other bitches, everyone charges the same. 10 dollar hand job 20 dollar blow job 50 "50/50" BJ to get them hard and then fucking 100 dollar 'around the world' (anything) (If the trick wants any "extras" we are to be creative in our pricing along these lines.) Condoms are mandatory, we are to return with the used condom after each fuck and turn over our money, at which time we may be permitted to freshen up. No bathroom breaks, eating, smoking, drugs, or liquor while on shift without permission. No Drama with the other girls 6- When you finish with a trick, you must return the condom to Rahjid for inspection. You will use your mouth to return the Condom. You will be inspect after each trick, to do the needful. If you have sex without the condom, you will be punished because you must be trying to enjoy the bareback. 7- You will wear the buttplug, if they want the ass they must pay. You are not to remove the plug yourself, and you may not play with yourself. You must ask them to kindly return the plug to the location. 8- If you have complaint or bring drama, you will be punish. 9- If you do not turn the trick each hour, you are to report to Rahjid to explain and be punish. 10- You are to keep your room neat and tidy – no hot plate. You will be given meal-break by Rahjid. SECTION FIVE – FAQ – Frequently Asked Questions. I seldom get feedback on my story, but usually it is from analytical thinkers. People who are working as an engineer, accountant, etc. I've also heard from other prolific authors and I love to get constructive thoughts. This section will grow with some of the questions I anticipate or have answered before. Q: You have Korean, Hindi, Spanish, German and other languages in your story, do you speak those languages? A: I barely speak English properly, so no I don't. I've just used google to find these phrases and words. Feel free to look them up. Q: You have a lot of pop culture references in your stories, or a song I've never heard of, why don't you provide a guide to what those are? A: I have mixed feelings about this. I like to within the story explain my references through characters talking to other characters (Show, don't tell style when possible as they explain as it happens). Some readers thought I was talking down to them, and some readers have sent me " I don't know who the Beverely Hillbillies ARE!!!" To which I would wonder if their Google-finger is broken. It would take less time to look it up than to write me an angry email demanding an explanation of the reference. My goal with including a song, or a reference to Star Wars or World of Warcraft is not to give everyone an education on everything anyway. I believe I gave the reader enough to follow what happens if they are not a fan. My main goal is if you are a World of Warcraft player or I mentioned a favorite song you go "Wow, this story mentioned something I like/am interested in". I don't play computer games, and I am not techy, but I do a little research to try to make sports references and computer stuff seem authentic (usually just watch guys talk). Q: I don't like (cuckolding, anal sex, digs on my religion, some sort of thing you had the girls do). A: You know, I am sorry. I can try to please everyone but that would involve never writing anything. This story will probably touch on at least one thing you don't like. You will have to take the good with the bad. I will share that one person really gave me a hard time about what the characters did. He scolded me about it and I told him basically to sit and spin/fuck off. However, I realized after I thought about his anger, his anger stemmed from connecting with the characters and then taking the story in a direction that he would not have gone. It was sort of like if the guy who writes Batman turned him into a tree-hugging crybaby and the fans were angry that was not the grizzled crime-fighter they were used too. I had breathed enough life into this figment of everyone's imagination we call the "Taylors" that he was passionate enough to write to me to express his concerns. So I wrote back to him and apologized and thanked him for feeling strongly enough about it to do that (No, please don't send me angry emails looking for thanks). Suffice to say, that person went on to write fan-fiction using my characters which is really a total ego-boost. Q: If my husband tried to do this to me, I would kick him in the balls! A: I don't suggest anyone live like the Taylors. This is a work of fiction for adults who enjoy involved humiliation stories where the characters grow and evolve. It is not an instruction manual. It is for people who know the difference between fantasy and reality, which is I have no remorse about any of the topics covered because you shouldn't be reading dirty stories if you can't tell the difference very well. Q: You need a thesaurus/spell check. A: I read/refine all my chapters and catch as many mistakes as I can, and I ask friends who have volunteered their time to help me catch mistakes. I am sorry that I did not catch them all, perhaps you will send me the correction so I can fix it? If not, keep in mind I charge nothing for my stories and you get what you pay for. I've done complete 'blu-ray' editions of earlier chapters where I tried to go back and fix early mistakes before I actually used WORD to write my stories and catch errors – however error free is a state of mind, not a reality. Q: Why do you write this? A: I do not condone having my stories on a paysite where readers must pay to access my stories. (That site has to generate revenue – I get that, but I'd like my stories in their free section). I do not intend to publish and charge money for my stories. It is not that I am rich and don't like money. It is that I do not know if any of my subject matter would be under additional scrutiny if I charge for it. As it stands, I write to enjoy myself. I write the kind of stories I would like to read. It is a labor of love and I share it with you in the hopes you will enjoy reading it. Q: You don't write a lot of sex in this. A: I focus a lot on characters and details that happen around the sexually charged elements of the story in the hopes I paint a provocative and arousing story. I am not good at what I call "mechanical writing" where it is just a log of events – this person sucked that, this person went ooh, that person licked this, etc. I do quite a bit of that, and the chapter I think has the most may be chapter 30 of FFIV. There seem to be enough stories with mostly lines like; WAP "MMMmmmmmmmmmmmmm," she said. DISCOGRAPHY One of my readers suggested I add a "Discography" with a list of all the songs by artist and title in my story. I thought that was a clever idea and have started the list. Baby Got Back – Sir Mix A lot FFIV Ch. 34 Diamonds in the Sky – Rhiannon FFIV – Ch. 35 ------- Chapter 1: Slut Games STAR COUNT: WENDY: 43 Get out of jail cards: 1 WHORE: 1,3,0,0,0 JAMIE: 51 Get out of jail cards: 1 WHORE: 4,3,0,0,0 "Yes Sir, actually I'd prefer to clean your house in the nude." Jamie smiled at the old man as he ate up her playful fibs. She had just finished mowing, trimming and edging his yard in the skimpy bikini her mother wore to the pool party last night. She stepped completely out of it and thought she might give him a heart attack as he looked her naked form up and down. "I really appreciate you giving me a chance to earn some money today and I don't want to mess up my bikini." It was a coy little game she was playing with the old man. He had hired her to mow his lawn, "Just like she did Waxerman's." and now she was going to clean his house. She knew she wasn't just here to clean up and mow grass. The house was immaculate and the lawn well groomed by a retired man with nothing but time on his hands to maintain his house. She was here to be his entertainment and when she finished mopping his floors she was going to have to think of a coy way to offer to suck his dick so he didn't feel like he was hiring a whore and instead it was just his lucky day. He had a delicate ego and sensibility, and being too vulgar and too forward would only scare him off. Chris wanted him as a repeat customer. They needed him as a repeat customer, because they were dead broke and most of the things her father had bought this past weekend weren't returnable. "Oh, I hope you don't get offended, but I am going to have to bend over to clean under your table." She smiled demurely. "Should I turn my head and leave you to it?" The nice old gentleman asked politely. "If you like, although I do appreciate your company..." Jamie wriggled for the old man as she went through with the charade of pretending it was no big deal to clean in the nude and that there wasn't some sexual interest to it. She smiled at him innocently and listened to his deep sigh as he probably imagined what he'd do to her if he were a few years younger. "I hope you don't think I am perverted or naughty to be cleaning your house this way, Sir?" She flashed her baby-blues at him and watched him wriggle uncomfortably to answer that he thought it was perfectly natural ... It was shaping up to be an interesting Sunday for Jamie Taylor. WELCOME BACK: If you haven't read Family Feud I, II and III this is the fourth and most likely final installment in the Taylor's epic tale of a family and it's journey into discipline, blackmail, betrayal, love, loss and bondage. Aristotle says there are some rules to telling a good tragedy. I suppose the difference between tragedy and comedy is really just perspective - If it is happening to someone else, or to you. The first of Aristotle's story telling rules is Hamartia - an error in judgment. In Family Feud I the Taylor Women attempt to control the Taylor men by embarrassing them into working out and eating right. They are lazy, aimless, and petty, but happy in their rut. The second is Hubris - arrogance, excessive, self-pride and self-confidence. The girls are successful, positive, witty but completely full of themselves and their lives. The mother Wendy is obsessed with a career, exercise and as a mother going behind everyone else and making sure they do what she thinks they should do. The daughter Jamie, throws herself into cheerleading, dance and honors club extra-curricular activities at school and ignores her brother just like all of the others in the in crowd do, not even defending him when they make fun of him. The Taylor family was really four individuals living in one house at the start of Family Feud I and by the end, with the women in control, they have taken their first awkward step towards a path of self-discovery. In Family Feud II we begin to see the emergence of the next two lessons of Aristotle in storytelling. The Anagnorisi -moment of discovery; epiphany as they realize the path they have all been following takes them apart from each other. The Peripeteia - change of fortune for the hero contrary to audience's expectations follows as the girls agree that they deserve 'payback' at the hands of the men and they all begin to change in ways they could not have expected. After essentially cuckolding the men by treating them as house pets in Family Feud I – the women get their comeuppance. The tables turn and the Men get to set the rules. The women agree to this in part because they genuinely feel guilty and want to give the men a chance at payback. The men had never been organized or good at planning, but they set elaborate rules and limits in place to assure the girls that while it won't be pleasant there will be structure to the rules. In the process, Bill Taylor (the father) establishes his own core value system and along with Chris Taylor (the son) they put the girls through a crucible of pain, humiliation and discipline which seems to only strengthen their resolve to each earn "100 stars" and complete the 'education' program that Bill has laid out for them. I can't possibly go into all the details about everything that happens in Family Feud II and III, but I will tell you that the final lesson of Aristotle in storytelling is Catharsis - purifying or figurative cleansing of the emotions and there is plenty more of all five elements of storytelling to come. You could read about their adventures at the County Fair, Tattoo Parlor, School, Work, Pool Parties and follow along in their journey from the beginning or you could begin your adventure here. The girls are almost half way through finishing their 'education' and giving the men their payback for the hardships they put them through. They have altered their lives irreparably by getting tattooed, pierced and at school and work they have done compromising things that can seriously affect them as a result, but in each of these things the women had choices and they accepted the potential consequences that may accompany them. It is Sunday afternoon and the family has just realized they are dead broke after a long, gluttonous spending spree. The Cast- There is a "Guide" or Family Feud Companion that goes into the main characters, secondary characters, easter eggs hidden in the story, and the published rules of the Taylor Family. If you are new to the story and just want a short introduction to the Taylors: Bill Taylor- Bill was a football star in high school but now that he is in his early forties he has let himself go a little. He has a little bit of a pot belly and he is unemployed. He isn't a perfect person, but in the past few weeks he has come a long way in accepting responsibility for the things he does and striving to remove obstacles in his and his family's life rather than blaming life for putting them there. He can be petty, selfish and often enjoys silence or the solitude of watching sports/playing computer games. But in the past week alone he has started to evolve a bit of a swagger with his confidence in being the boss over his wife and daughter at home. Chris Taylor- You might call him the chubby, lovable loser. The kind of kid who is smart and when he applies himself to something, he can really excel. The problem was he never felt like applying himself to things that other people wanted him too. Nerd, Geek, he had been called every name in the book. This past week he had started to set up his mom and sister on dates with his nerdy friends and as his popularity rose with them he also started to understand that with authority comes responsibility. He has a very, some would say, 'sick' sense of humor and he often says things that shock people but usually makes them laugh. Chris might make you think of Chris from the cartoon "Family Guy", but he is quick to point out he was like this long before the cartoon ever appeared on television. Wendy Taylor – She had been all knees and elbows back in High School but she blossomed when she went to college. She also had the help of a plastic surgeon to implant perfect breasts. She focused on her career and exercise instead of being a home maker and soon found herself the soul bread winner as she climbed the corporate ladder. Wendy could best be described physically as a cross between the actresses Connie Britton, Jamie Lee Curtis and Katy Segall in Sons of Anarchy. Jamie Taylor - Blonde, Blue eyes, tall and slender, she was a head cheerleader at Cherry Lawn High. She seems bubbly, vivacious and positive and often comes across like a 'goody two shoes'. She is a bit of a 'rule follower' and it bothers her on some level when rules are applied unfairly or ignored even if they don't bode well for her. She has several piercings (and a tattoo) just like her mother except when she got hers they were set very high and tight and she has been under a constant state of heightened arousal ever since, that has been sending her brain messages about doing naughty things she would never have considered. Jamie could best be described as a cross between singer Taylor Swift and actress Aimee Teegarden. EARLIER THAT MORNING: Wendy and Jamie had been caged together for the first time the night before. Bill had purchased a large black lacquered dog crate and set it up in the living room. He lined it with newspaper (in case either of them had to pee in the middle of the night) and after his nightly affirmation session with them locked them both in and flicked out the light to go upstairs to his comfortable bed. The girls weren't gagged or cuffed as they so often had been, and could actually sit up with their backs against the cold metal cage. They talked for a while about things that had been on their mind. Jamie was concerned she may just be kicked out of school for the stunt she had pulled at the last half-time show and the two enjoyed sharing each other's problems until it was time to sleep. There was not enough room to lie flat, and as they had often been tied together at night, it seemed logical that they curl up in a 'spoon' position. In part, because Bill kept the front room a frosty 69 degrees and the two were naked and cold. The Air conditioning return air vent was in the living room and it tended to get coldest there before any other part of the house. When dawn broke, Chris awoke them by yelling in their faces to scare them as he often did and let them out of their cage. He ordered them to 'heel' behind him as he led them upstairs to shower and use the litter box. He enjoyed watching his Sister and Mom take a shit and piss like animals and after a full week, he was still excited every morning by this daily ritual. "You are gonna be pissing on the lawn if you get kicked out of school tomorrow." Chris sounded happy that his sister may be spending time outside. Her deal with her father was if she got kicked out of school, she'd be spending her time outside with the family dog Roscoe in the fenced in backyard. "Yes Sir, you don't have to seem so happy about it." She could give him a lemony smile and a sarcastic reply when they were being casual and goofing around. The gallows humor and banter between them added some much needed levity to what might seem like a very twisted and sadistic morning ritual. Chris didn't leave his mom out of this banter. As she tried to shit over the litter box he made her laugh by saying "Sick, it looks like when you mix up all the colors of play-doh and pump it through one of those squeeze molds!" "Sir, please." She stifled a laugh as if to imply she was having a hard enough time doing this to keep a straight face. The morning ritual continued downstairs as the girls made breakfast for the guys, shaved and waited for inspection before eating. They usually got to share a single hot dog, which they ate by each starting on one end and meeting with their lips in the center. Bill called it "Team work" but they also knew it turned him on to watch them eat this way. This passed for 'routine' or 'normal' now that they had done it enough times around each other every morning for the last week. There was no denying the entire morning ritual was designed to humiliate the women but also entertain the men. It was almost like a mathematical equation, the more of one you had, the more of the other went along with it. Bill was still worried about the bills and he had been reviewing them all morning on the kitchen table (when he wasn't making Wendy and Jamie's life hell). He even told Chris to go easy on the food because every little bit was going to be needed this week. They had a lot of bills coming due and he wasn't sure how he was going to pay them. He had splurged on BDSM gear, sexy outfits, pet store stuff, electronics and some purchases he didn't even want to mention. He knew this mess was in a large part his own creation but he was not going to retreat into fantasy land and get online and start playing his computer games. He was going to come up with a solution. His first idea was to finally have that yard sale he had been wanting. He wanted to get rid of all the junk and bric-a-brac they had accumulated as a family over the last twenty years but he also wanted to find a way to tie this into his training of the girls. He gave the matter some thought while he and his son coaxed the girls through their morning chores of feeding the dogs, shaving each other's bodies and preparing themselves for an inspection and affirmation. The inspection was the usual running hands all over their bodies to check for hair stubble and any imperfection. Chris usually took a deep smell and made a joke about tuna or salmon. Chris and Bill took turns doing it and where Bill was no-nonsense get it done and check, he was also much rougher. He'd tug on his daughter's ear or slap the ass or tits to measure how well they jiggled. Bill would yank on their hair to see how healthy it was and usually stick one finger up both asses simultaneously at the very end. "This is to make sure you completely took a shit and aren't going to ask later and waste my time." It was rare they found anything the girls had to be punished over, no matter how meticulously they looked. Wendy and Jamie knew that no matter how often they got inspected it would always be this way. Bill took more time this morning with the inspection since it was Sunday morning and the girls didn't have to rush to school and work. He began the affirmations during the inspection by asking his daughter, "Jamie, is your cunt wet?" "Yes Sir" she answered with a trace of embarrassment. She knew her mom had been well aware her pussy was glistening with her juices when she was shaved but it still made her twinge to admit it out loud. Her body was constantly being aroused by the new exotic signals it was getting from the piercings that she had recently received. "You don't expect me to stand here with a wet finger do you?" Bill waited for his daughter to dutifully open her mouth so that he could shove his finger in and let her clean it off. "Ass Face, can you tell me why you are getting aroused by your treatment? Do you like being kept naked and under discipline?" Jamie was about to answer when there was an unexpected knock on the door. "Cow Tits, can you get that?" Bill ordered his wife to answer the door by her new nickname. She looked at him sullenly before asking, "May I put on a cover up? Do we go to yellow alert, Sir?" The knock repeated a second time. "No, there is no time for all that. Crack the door a little and unless it's girl scouts, trying to sell those damned cookies, let them in." Chris laughed "Awww, I'd like to ask if the cookies are made from actual Girl Scouts or artificially flavored." Jamie and Wendy might have laughed if things hadn't seemed so sobering and serious right now. The morning dawn was behind them – replaced by the bright lights of the kitchen. Bill smiled slightly in the kitchen as they waited for Wendy to answer the door completely naked. There was a slight shriek of surprise from Wendy and Bill's smile grew knowingly, "Invite him in, Dear." Van Pewterschmidt, the handsome forty-something from yesterday's community pool party and their neighbor of over ten years, walked into the kitchen behind a naked Wendy. She offered him a seat at the kitchen table. He seemed pleasantly amused by the girl's standing in front of Bill and Chris completely naked except for their collars. Bill had obviously talked to him and invited him over because he seemed to take the entire thing in stride as if it were all quite normal. "Now that I see them in the light and without the suit, I see what you mean, Bill." He grinned. Bill offered him coffee and told Van he had excellent timing. "We are just about to start our affirmations and afterwards you can pick the one you want." Wendy and Jamie weren't sure what he meant by 'pick the one you want' but both of them had sucked his cock the day before and had more than a sneaking suspicion. Van declined the coffee and Bill laughed, "Okay break time is over, he doesn't want coffee, so stop staring at him." To his wife and daughter who both seemed awe struck by the new presence in their usually private humiliations, "Get in position two." The women did as they were told, bending over to face away from the kitchen table, holding their ass cheeks apart. There was an increasing sense of humiliation spreading down both of their spines as if re-opening an old wound. They had almost become used to the idea of giving the affirmations to Bill and Chris but now with Van in the room everything felt as awkward and humiliating as their first time. "When your daughter said she had to suck my dick yesterday, I really thought she was kidding." Van said with just a trace of the overwhelming laughter Wendy and Jamie thought he might be holding back over their misfortune. "Did you enjoy sucking Mr. Pewterschmidt's cock yesterday, Ass Face?" "Yes Sir." Jamie said sharply and without hesitation. Bill let his finger play around her freshly shaven cunt lips while he rephrased his question. "Did your sloppy cunt get wet when you stuffed Van's dick in your big mouth?" "Yes Sir, my cunt was wet, but I've been dealing with the piercings..." Jamie attempted to explain. Her father shushed her, which only made her feel more embarrassed. He had insisted she be very explicit during affirmations and he wasn't letting her give a proper answer. "You are under green alert, not white alert. Do you still want to stick with the answer your fat ugly little hole was gushing over the chance to suck off Van Pewterschmidt at the pool party, Ass Face?" Van wanted to interrupt the family. He wasn't entirely comfortable with the harsh words being thrown around about Wendy and Jamie but he was starting to find it amusing since they didn't defend themselves and just accepted it. They seemed to be inviting it from his perspective. That might even be true, because the affirmations were supposed to be honest admissions of their shortcomings and acceptance of the treatment that would correct them. "You told me to be honest Sir. My cunt has been wet most of the time now that I have been pierced and starting wearing the chastity belt." "Why do you have these little rings in your cunt and tits, Ass Face?" Bill decided to take a different approach to his questions. He lifted up the ring on the hood of her clit with his finger and let it fall to punctuate his question. "To symbolize that I am your and Chris's whore, Sir." Bill prodded her by twisting the ring in her clit roughly to give a more detailed answer. Jamie was confused since he had shushed her earlier but added, "I used to be able to lead men around with my tits and cunt, and now you can lead me around by my rings, Sir. They are attached to the most sensitive parts of my body and are a constant reminder of why we deserve this treatment." Bill was satisfied with the answer but he poked a finger into his daughter's pink raw butthole anyway. "Isn't this stink hole sensitive too?" "Yes Sir, my asshole is very sensitive" She was back to giving explicit answers even if they made her sound disgusting. Van couldn't see her face but he could hear the look of disgust she must have had while she admitted it in her voice. "So why didn't you insist on getting that hole ringed too?" Bill asked while he tapped on her asshole. "I was only doing as much as my mother was doing, Sir. I am sorry you feel I insisted and was greedy about it." She answered diplomatically. Bill jabbed a thumb a few inches into his daughter's asshole while he continued his questions. "Don't you think that you have contributed to the debt the family is in, by wanting tattoos, piercings and all of this stuff?" Jamie didn't want to answer that question because it was very loaded and seemed unfair to her. She wouldn't even be in this situation if her father hadn't made all these rules, and she never told him to buy all the computer stuff and bondage gear. Then again, she had participated in cuckolding them when the shoe was on the other foot and if she hadn't she wouldn't be here like this now. She would probably be off at cheerleading practice. "Yes Sir, I have contributed to some of the family expenses and I will do my share to help work us out of our financial difficulties." She told her father diligently but with a trace of reluctance. "Good, I am glad to hear you finally admit that. You don't' seem to want to pony up to the idea that your pussy gets juicy because you have dirty thoughts and sometimes enjoy this, but at least you are willing to admit you've helped add to our bills - That is a start." He sighed and let his son take over the affirmations with a fist bump as he sat next to Van. Chris had grown up living next door to Van and had never spoken to him very often. Van reminded him of Kevin Costner, never really seeming to age, while Chris himself had grown from a small child into almost an adult. He was a little nervous talking to Van like a 'peer', but he liked the idea he was being treated as "another one of the men" at the kitchen table and he was going to just bluff his way through it and hope he makes a good impression. "These Asses look good enough to eat don't they Van?" Chris asked as he reached out to his mother's and sister's hands to help them hold their cheeks as far as apart as possible. "Yes they do, Chris." Van answered with a bemused expression wondering where he was going with it. "Did you two sluts clean your asses and shave them perfectly this morning?" Chris asked. "Yes Sir, we did clean and shave our asses. Please inspect us, as you know we can be deceptive" Wendy answered anticipating Chris wanted her to justify his inspecting them in front of Van. "Won't be necessary," Chris grinned as he upturned some pancake syrup from the table letting it drip on their shapely butt cheeks and down their cracks. "You girls like syrup don't you?" Wendy and Jamie both answered affirmative even though neither would have touched the stuff back when they were free because they both ate healthy and watched their weight. They also anticipated Chris was turning them by putting his hand on their back so that Wendy could lick her daughter's ass while continuing to face her own towards Van and Bill. "Have a little breakfast, while I finish Jamie's Affirmation, Mom." He chuckled to himself as he drizzled a little more amber syrup where her nose met her daughter's crack. "Ass Face, does that tickle? You seem a little jumpy holding your cheeks open so your mom can have a taste." Jamie steeled herself and answered very seriously, "It tickles a little, Sir" Chris was disappointed that one of his first questions didn't seem to strike a nerve or sound as interesting and thought provoking as he had hoped. He wrapped his thumb around his sister's nose and gave it a squeeze. "Loosen up, Sis. We've got company." Secretly passing on his own disappointment for his question, to his sister's answer. "Did you tell Mr. Pewterschmidt why we call you Ass face?" his second question was a little better and he sneered as he delivered it to her. "No Sir," Jamie knew better than to leave it that vague and to the point. She was expected to expound and she did. "My name is now Ass face because everything that comes out of my mouth hole has been stupid shit, and I make ugly faces that have to be corrected some times." She was thinking of the times she had made her 'duck lip' expressions when she admitted that. "It is appropriate you call me that, Sir" "Can I call you that even after you earn the fifty stars you have left to go on your education?" Chris asked. Jamie had a tough time thinking about it at that moment. She was trying hard not to wriggle her ass as her mom licked the sweet syrup from between her cheeks. Had Van not been there she may have dared a lemony response about how she would get even if he did. Instead she said, "If I am still behaving like an ass face when this is over, then you may, Sir." "Why?" "Because Taylor Men rule, and Taylor women drool, Sir. You are superior to me in all ways." She said the mantra that she had become so accustomed to saying even if a part of her had found it hard to believe. She didn't sigh but she didn't sound particularly enthused about it. "Do you believe this shit talker, Van?" Chris turned to their house guest and he was just smiling with his arms folded trying to stay out of it and observe the odd family's breakfast routine. He shrugged in response to Chris's question. "I don't buy it either, Van. Ass face, do you really believe that the Taylor men are superior to you, and you are going to be my cum gobbling house pet after this is over?" Chris was toying with his sister. "I will probably miss certain parts of this," She said, surprising everyone including her Mother. "Obviously, we've been through a lot together and now that you've seen me like this, I will probably walk around the house naked some times and let you call me ass face, to remind me of what I am learning, Sir." She didn't get to finish her thought because she started to shiver and make an "O" face as her mom finished lapping the syrup from the bottom of her ass in between both of her holes. Chris wanted to get into the comment, "Probably miss certain parts of this?" and exactly what that meant but it was time to rotate the two girls so that Jamie could lick her mom's ass clean of the sugary syrup while he gave his mom affirmations. He didn't want his guest getting bored and he had plenty of time to dig a little deeper into that interesting nugget. He positioned them so Jamie's pink clean ass was facing Van and spread wide open so he could get a perfect view. "You used to date my Aunt Lisa?" Chris asked Van while Jamie went to town on cleaning off her mother's tight but sore asshole. "Yeah, but that was years ago, Chris." Van answered, still amused by the spectacle of what he was watching. "You ever expect her little sister to be such a conceited whore?" "I don't know about conceited, but I guess it is true what they say about the quiet ones. They are the wild ones." Van smirked in response. Chris stuck his finger in his mother's open mouth and fished around while absent mindedly, he finished his questions of Van. "Who gave the better blow job, my sister or my mother?" He wanted to ask about his Aunt Lisa but he felt that was crossing the line and he limited it to the two sluts who had agreed to be here now. "Well that is hard to say, Chris," Van was being diplomatic. "I'd give Wendy points for experience and a skilled slow tongue, but Jamie was good for youthful vibrancy. There is something really sweet and innocent about letting it slide down her throat." "What should Van call you, Mom?" Chris asked his mom while popping his finger out of her wet mouth. "He can call me anything he likes, Sir." Wendy answered submissively but not as completely as Chris expected and it wasn't the answer he wanted. He reached under her chest and swatted her big tits, "I'll take Cow Tits! For Five Hundred, Alex" he referenced a Jeopardy game show answer and she repeated 'Cow Tits' to satisfy him. "Cow Tits, our guest can't make up his mind who is the better cock sucker. You and your whore daughter won't mind licking his nuts again this morning to help him decide will you?" He paused to add, "After she finishes making sure your ass is completely clean that is." "No Sir, as long as I make my W, I'll suck anyone's cock you want." That was a good answer she gave and Chris was actually surprised to hear it put so bluntly. Bill wasn't as satisfied and he stood up to take back over the affirmations. The pair often tag teamed during the affirmations this way and Chris took notice his father wanted a turn and sat back down without comment. "Is this just a W to you, or do you care that you'd be sucking a strange man's dick even though you are married to me, Cow Tits?" Bill asked skeptically. He hadn't seemed jealous very often this past week, but with Van, he obviously had a few unspoken issues about measuring up as a man. "I care Sir, but you've made it clear I am your whore and I've got to accept that. It could be worse, and you've not required us to fuck anyone, so I think you've been very generous. I want to earn my freedom, learn my lesson and finish what I agreed too. I might as well do the best I can, Sir." "You've already earned enough letters at the pool party to turn into extra stars, and I appreciate you trying, slut." Bill smiled his compliment. Wendy was surprised he hadn't said it sarcastically. "Do you think your asshole is too good for the likes of Van Pewterschmidt?" He added his question. "No Sir, he can look at it or play with it if you let him. The only one who can fuck it is you, because we've agreed that was the rule, Sir." "If that wasn't the rule?" Bill asked while watching his daughter 'nom nom nom' on her mother's sticky crack. "Are you wanting to renegotiate the rules now, Sir?" Wendy said submissively but with just a trace of a passive aggressive reminder that this may not be the time to discuss it. Bill decided to ignore the hint and pretend he didn't get it. "I am not renegotiating your rules or that of your whore daughter. I just want to know, would you let Van fuck you up the ass if that WAS the rule?" "Yes Sir, I would let him pound my ass if I agreed to it. I haven't broken our agreement, even though I know you and Chris are always vigilant over us to make sure we don't." Bill was satisfied with that response. He wanted Van to know HE was fucking Wendy's Ass and it was HIS decision that she not do it, without actually telling it to him directly. "Today after the flea market, one of you will be going over to Van's house to serve for a few hours, cleaning up, doing yard work, that sort of thing. If Van offered you one hundred dollars, knowing how strapped we are for cash, what would you say?" Wendy didn't remember Bill saying 'Flea Market', she remembered him saying 'yard sale' which would be bad enough by itself. She instantly envisioned an old green van with a bunch of white trash selling old 8-track tapes and broken car stereos in a broken down drive-in movie theatre. She didn't have a chance to comment on that because she was also holding her breath so she didn't pant while Jamie ate her out. She wanted to lift her chin just a bit so Jamie didn't stray so low, but she kept her hands right on her ass cheeks clutching them and pulling them apart for her as she had been told. She was angry Bill seemed to be negotiating for more changes to the rules in front of Van. She wasn't aware of the subtext between Bill and Van, that Bill was trying to establish his, 'alpha male dominance' to the house guest he himself invited over. Bill and Van may not have been aware of what Bill was doing subconsciously either. "I would tell him he can speak to you about it. My asshole is not mine to promise." Bill licked his lips, this is exactly what he wanted to hear, "So if I promised him your asshole?" "I suppose we'd have to talk about stars and what is included if I did, Sir?" Wendy answered a little too quickly for her own tastes. She could feel Jamie make a "smup" sound as she stopped licking her behind to think about the implications of what her mom just said. "I thought the dares couldn't be that extreme though, Sir." Wendy added and Jamie went back to lapping her mom's ass dry. "No they can't, it's just with us owing so much, I thought you two might be willing to do a little more is all." Wendy thought about what he had just said and she knew he was always pushing them to go further. "Can I speak with Ass Face about it before I answer, Sir?" It sounded so strange to everyone when she casually called her daughter 'ass face' that she even felt Jamie's giggling on her asshole. "How many stars does it pay, Sir?" Jamie came up for air to spurt out and continued to lick. "It would pay one Star." Bill answered without hesitation. "Two Stars and yes, he can fuck me in the Asshole, one for cunt." Jamie gasped with shortness of breath, her chin and lips covered in pussy juice and artificial maple syrup. Wendy almost fell over. She was bent at the knee. She had expected a much longer conversation, one where the two of them weighed the pros and cons about it and came to a mutual decision -just like that it had been decided in a split second. "Even if it is you or Chris," Jamie's abrupt stipulations were because she was intent on licking every drop of syrup off her mom's ass but it made for a powerful bargaining tactic with Bill. There was a short and sweet, "Here is what I want" about it and no hemming and hawing. "Chris, what do you say? Agreed?" "Fuck yeah!" he beamed. "Jamie, have you ever fucked anyone?" "No Sir, I am a virgin" Even Van laughed out loud at that one. "I mean not of the mouth, I am a cum gobbler, but I've never had more than a finger or tongue in my cunt or asshole, Sir." "Why does she talk so crude, it doesn't sound right coming from such a sweet girl?" Van asked Bill Jamie answered thinking it part of the affirmations. "My mom and I are learning we can't use euphemisms, we've given up that privilege. It is far more humiliating to have to call it a Cunt, and not think of it as special, Sir." "Why does it have to be humiliating?" He asked a follow up question and Bill and Chris didn't stop him so he assumed it was permitted. "My mother and I are very prideful bitches, Sir. We put ourselves and our needs above the Taylor men, and we are learning we are too big for our britches, or any clothes what so ever, Sir." She repeated a lesson she had learned in many past affirmations. "The humility is to strip us of the pride that rules our lives and that is why we are standing here like this putting on a show for you." "Do you enjoy putting on a show for me?" he asked. It surprised Jamie he would ask that since it had been asked already. Her father and brother often repeated questions in different ways but he seemed to have either stumbled upon that method or had the same idea. "I am not enjoying it Sir, but my mom licking between my legs obviously turned me on. I am learning my pleasure is secondary and that I need to put the pleasure of others ahead of my own. That is submission and if you are enjoying our show, that is good enough for me." Van made a 'good enough' face and let the matter lie. Bill wanted to get back to his affirmations but Van announced he had made his decision. "I've seen enough, I'd like Wendy delivered to my house to be my assistant for 4 hours today, let's make that happen." Bill didn't like how commanding Van could be, but he also envied how he seemed to dominate conversations without saying a word and how he had just blurted out his decision. He was taking mental notes to do the same. "Can I ask what made your decision?" "Well, your wife I assume has a little more experience than Jamie. I plan on taking you up on that one hundred dollars thing so she can earn her Star." He put his finger under Jamie's chin and offered "Don't worry kiddo, I'll rent you next weekend if you are still playing this game" and with that he walked out. He didn't look back even though both girls offered a gentle "Goodbye Sir" as he let himself out the front door. Wendy found herself turning red with embarrassment and hoping no one noticed. She had known her sister dated him and always been polite and friendly to him, but unlike the joy she took in pulling Mrs. Waxerman's strings she was feeling deeply ashamed of what he just saw and the fact she was aroused from her daughter's 'clean up'. A part of her wondered if he still had contact with her sister, and a part of her told her to stop worrying about all the possible things that could go wrong and think about her immediate problems. She had worked so hard to keep Jamie out of the deeply sexual aspects of this and now she had agreed to it almost casually. This was a lot to process. "Ass Face, get your mouth off your mother's cunt and look up at me." Bill pulled his daughter by the hair to tilt her head up. She looked so cute and innocent, her chin glistening with slick honey-like syrup and her mother's musky cum. "You are going to be a good doggy, and be obedient if I have to stick you outside because you got kicked out of school?" "Yes Sir, I'll be good." He pat her head and she smiled sweetly. "You might be petted and shown affection," Bill stroked her hair as he continued and then abruptly yanked her by it roughly, "Or you might be treated roughly, but Roscoe always offers unconditional love, you understand that?" "Yes Sir, I will try to be a good puppy for you if I get kicked out of school." She sounded like she was trying to convince herself as much as she was her father as she envisioned herself outside on all fours, panting in the dog house all day long. The mental image was very surreal in her mind, but it was starting to take shape how serious her dad and brother were about it. "I know you two cunts had your heart set on a yard sale. I thought about it and you've already shown your ass to all our neighbors on the block yesterday. I had to ask myself, why let you off that easily? You will have a whole new crowd at the flea market who haven't seen those fat bubble butts of yours and we'll have a lot more potential customers so we can get rid of all this shit that has just been collecting dust here for years." Bill motioned around at most of the things that decorated their home. Chris was hooking the two of them to their new goat milker. They had purchased this double-milker on Friday night. They had, for the last week, been milking themselves with a light weight plastic device that Jamie had bought at Baby's R' Us back when she had control over her father and brother for use in some humiliation game. She hadn't actually used it on them but she assumed her mother might have. Bill and Chris had also made them tug and twerk their own nipples and each other's several times a day to simulate milking a cow. It hadn't produced a single drop of milk, but it had managed to make their nipples hard and sore, and with the piercings it had become intensely arousing at times. Wendy and Jamie assumed the guys weren't actually serious about making them give milk. They just liked to tease them and this was one of a dozen ways they could turn the usually very beneficial quality of having tits from being able to use them to get attention/what you want, into being a humiliating and painful experience. However, this morning the Udderly E-Z™ Goat Milker looked very daunting. A long stainless steel rod with a place for the hoses to attach and it made a much louder sound than the simple breast feeding pumps they had been using ever did. Chris had them on all fours waiting like cows to be milked and was taking his time about placing one of the many suction cups onto their nipples. "I am tired of waiting, why won't these whores give milk?" Bill was impatient as he walked around the living room. He was digging through some of the other items he bought at the porn megastore and found two spreader gags, metal ovals that held the mouth open, attached to leather straps. He quickly began gagging his wife and then moved to his daughter standing behind both of them. Wendy found it amusing that Bill had such little knowledge of women's anatomy that he thought they could give milk without being pregnant and while on birth control. She let him have his fantasies and she knew this had something to do with her new nickname being 'cow tits' and went along with it. She didn't realize that there were in fact ways that lactation could be induced, whether using drugs designed for that purpose or using the proper natural techniques, something that adoptive mothers do frequently. When Chris put the plastic suction cup on her nipple it really didn't feel unpleasant at all. She could see why an industrial goat milker would be in a porn store for 'enthusiasts'. The constant sucking was like a vaccum cleaner except with rhythm. She could tell from the shape of the 'optional' suction cups that the company knew there was another use for their milker because one of them was shaped perfectly to fit over a crotch. She let herself tune out what was being said around her while the two pumps began to chug-chug-chug and slurp on her nipples. She smiled over at her daughter who was getting the same treatment but she was in the process of tuning out everything and letting herself experience this contraption. Bill and Chris were walking around the house pointing out things that she and her daughter would no doubt have to box and load into the truck to be sold. Many of these she had carefully selected to fit into her decorative theme for the living room at Pier One and Bed, Bath and Beyond for probably far more than they would make selling them at some flea market. She started to feel her throat get dry as she let the thoughts and worries about what would happen at the flea market or when she was delivered to Van Pewterschmidt's door. She did have an image of herself wrapped in a big red bow and nothing else, but she started to let even those fragments of dirty thoughts go from her mind as the thrumming of the milker got louder in her head and began to block everything else completely out. This was a kind of zen relaxation to her. She was starting to feel completely at one with her senses. They were electrified from the tugging and the cold air in the living room on her naked body. It was causing her to feel very aroused and at the same time very at peace. She started to think of herself as mother earth giving birth to a new life and giving it nutrients, there was something primal going on in her mind and she wasn't going to overthink it. ~SLAP!!!!!!!!!!~ She was jostled out of her trance like state by a very hard slap on her bare ass. She was about to say something funny over her shoulder about "Aww, five more minutes please?" when she noticed that the tubes attached to her nipples had a white milky substance in them. Her eyes grew wide in recognition, had she begun to lactate. "Stop sleeping Cow Tits!" Bill slapped her ass again. Wendy went to answer and could only manage an "Acckkkk", she had completely forgotten her mouth had been wired wide open with the gag and all she could manage was to deliver more drool down her chin as she attempted to answer him. "Aww, did you have something to say Cow Tits? Was it Mooo?" Her son was laughing over her as she looked up, in what felt like a humiliating slow motion. She turned her head to see that Jamie was on her back wriggling in spasms with the same milky white liquid pumping out of the tube attached to her tits. There wasn't a lot and it looked a little like cum with a yellowish hew, but it was in the tube." "Finally, that Reglan worked." Bill explained that every day they had been giving the girls, so called vitamins along with their birth control. This was supposedly to offset the poor diet they were permitted to eat so the girls got a little nutrition along with the hot dogs and scraps they ate. But in reality, they were a lactation inducing drug. "Gerald's Dad is a pharmacist, so we had him get a hold of some Domperidone and Reglan." Chris was smiling as if this was an everyday kind of prank and there shouldn't be any hard feelings. Wendy wanted to scream but all she could manage was another pathetic "Acckkkk" as her tongue flailed around inside a mouth she couldn't close. "Okay, if you insist." Chris unzipped his pants as if he were complying with his mother requesting he stuff his cock into her mouth. "It is a pretty sight to see women who can't talk isn't it, Son?" Bill stood nearby watching his daughter writhe on the floor in ecstasy while his son fed his dick into his mother's gagged throat. Chris ignored the desire to correct his dad, it would be good to HEAR women who can't talk and commented on his mother's gag reflex (or relative lack of one). "Mom is definitely a better cock sucker, Sorry Ass Face". If Jamie heard him she didn't let on, she was in the throes of an impossible orgasm brought on by the constant teasing of her nipples by the machine and the state of her body. They were letting her masturbate without stopping her because they were enjoying the show she put on. Bill smiled because there was time to punish her later for masturbating without permission anyway. Chris turned off the suction and Wendy felt the blood rushing out of her swollen and engorged tits immediately. "See Dad, I told you. We just weren't doing it often enough and those other pumps just didn't have enough power". Bill nodded in agreement as his son collected what they were also calling 'slut squeezins'. There was barely enough breast milk to fill two shot glasses between the girls. The long clear tubes on the pump had made it seem like there was much more of the sour white liquid. "What should we do with it?" Chris asked his father "You want to drink it?" Bill answered with a grin. "Not particularly. Didn't I get enough as a baby?" "I don't think your mom breast fed you and she didn't have those silicon jugs back then. I think it was Enfamil for you." Bill added "Hey don't blame me, I told her to breast feed ya." Jamie and Wendy could only listen with their mouths held open by their gags. Jamie had stopped writhing in orgasmic lust but her tongue was still wagging as she panted and tried to catch her breath, her chest heaving and rising while she calmed down. "Unless you want to save it to put on your Wheaties, have them both drink each other's and let's get them dressed so they can load up the truck." Bill was in a hurry and he didn't want to stand on ceremony or ritual this morning. "You know I don't eat Wheaties." Chris smirked as he ungagged his sister and mother and let them each down a shot of each other's tit juice. "Well how is it?" Jamie tried not to make a face but said, "Kind of bitter, Sir." "Your mom's silicon tits are bitter? That is a shock." Bill was waiting for Wendy's response next so he could make fun of it the same way. Wendy wasn't sure if she should explode and go off on them. A huge part of her wanted to be furious about sneaking them pills that were supposed to be vitamin supplements. She didn't know what the side effects might be or how long the leaky nipples would last for and all of this made her angry. Wendy also had begun accepting the submissive attitude that they had been training into her. She didn't want to admit it to herself and would often tell herself she is just humoring Bill and Chris to get through this and make it so they would take it easier on Jamie by being compliant. "Can I ask, what are the side effects of these pills? How long does it last?" "Relax cow tits, I knew you'd ask that." He had already printed off a WebMD report that showed he had researched it. It naturally had all the rare side effects that could happen and warnings to stop taking it if you have tremors. This wasn't too different from any medicine in their cabinet. They all had to warn you to consult a physician even Tylenol. Wendy was surprised Bill had taken the time to print it off for her. "You guys can stop taking it after your education is up if you want too. I suppose we should have told you about it, but I wasn't sure it would work and I didn't want you saying I was an idiot when it didn't produce any results." Bill sounded genuinely sincere in his explanation. Wendy wanted to scream "Don't you think I'd want to know about something that would make me spout milk?" She hadn't breastfed either of the kids because at the time of their birth it just interfered with her new career and Enfamil was so much more convenient. Her breasts had been sore for about a week after their birth but when nothing suckled on them, the soreness (and the ability to give milk) just slowly disappeared as if by nature's intention. "Just like you milked us, now we can milk you and creamy white stuff comes out the same way!" Chris sounded delighted as he reminded his mom about how she used to make the two of them masturbate in mason jars to keep them from getting too horny around the house. She took a deep breath to consider this new development. She didn't have much time to think about it before being expected to get up and put on clothes grabbed from the cardboard "Slut Box" in the living room. She got a purple striped mini-skirt and green tube top with buckled heels. Her daughter was in a pink micro mini skirt and half-shirt that had a faded Maddona 'Justify My Love 94' on the front and high heeled saddle shoes. Once dressed the girls were directed to start loading boxes and bringing them out to the truck. Bill made a big show about putting things that might have some emotional significance for sale – Photo albums, trophies, mirrors, paintings. They had gutted Jamie's room of almost everything she owned when the training began. All the frilly doily's and girly stuff she had, all her stuffed animals and things she was probably too old to have but most teenage girls held on too. That stuff was taken from the garage out to the truck. It was still early enough that the morning dew was still on the grass as they hustled to load up things Bill felt the family could do without. He threatened to gag both of them if either one voiced a concern about anything going to the flea market. To their credit, they stoically let it all go and didn't voice one concern. Bill wondered if they were really becoming less materialistic or they were just trying to make him feel like a bad guy for being the one to insist they sell twenty years' worth of accumulated family 'stuff'. He would periodically remind them "This is so we can make our house, car and insurance payments'. He wondered if some of the things he was saying was to convince himself. "It is just stuff". He decided at the very end to have them load the old computer into the truck. "I am sorry Son, I was really looking forward to playing games with you." Bill had bought a brand new computer rig because the two shared a common interest in multi-player games like World of Warcraft and Halo. "That is okay dad, we ARE playing games together, slut games!" Bill liked the sound of the sound of that, and with a wink he turned back around to start hustling the girls to finish loading the truck for him –feeling like a cowboy trying to get the cattle to move it on a long cattle drive. He was proud of his son and for that matter his wife and daughter for sticking to their deal. ------- Chapter 2: Luck rhymes with Fuck STAR COUNT: WENDY: 43 Get out of jail cards: 1 WHORE: 1,3,0,0,0 JAMIE: 51 Get out of jail cards: 1 WHORE: 4,3,0,0,0 The trip to the flea market in the cool Sunday morning air was a brisk one for Chris and Bill who sat comfortably in the air conditioned cab of Bill's air conditioned Ford Ranger. It wasn't as comfortable for Jamie and Wendy who were now hunkered down, sandwiched between boxes in a metal dog crate. They were sitting back to back on their butts with nothing but a little bit of their skirt to protect them from the cold metal bars. Their arms had been interlinked and they were cuffed at the wrist so they couldn't squirm around. Bill didn't bother gagging them. His impulse told him that would make it more humiliating for them but there was a practical reason to leave them ungagged. He had noticed by leaving them some time to talk things out together they had a tendency to work out problems they might ordinarily want to come to him to mediate and figure out the solution too. He hadn't given them a choice to wear their chastity belts but he had brought them just in case he decided they might be appropriate. The girls had been riding in the back of the truck since the education began but this was the first time things were quiet enough they could talk while the vehicle was in motion. The boxes were blocking out what the other drivers could see and the noise from the wind. "Thank goodness for small favors," Wendy quipped. She was unable to see her daughter's face in the position they were in but she knew Jamie was quick enough to notice the boxes were acting as a natural barrier to the elements as well. "Some morning this is turning out to be, Thelma?" Jamie answered her mother and made a reference to 'Thelma and Louise'. The two had often joked about the ending of the movie where the two women joined hands and drove off the cliff rather than surrender. It had been a metaphor for how they both felt at times about their recent choices to submit to Bill and Chris. "Yeah Louise, I kind of wanted to talk to you about the whole 'Fuck me' thing this morning. What was that all about?" Her mother was talking about how Jamie had volunteered to have sex for additional stars. This had been foremost on her mind to talk about. "Well, it seems like we were doing almost everything anyway, I figured might as well?" Jamie offered naively. "What? Don't you want your first time having sex to be special?" Wendy asked with surprised concern. "Was yours with Dad?" "Well your Dad wasn't my first." Wendy admitted with a little embarrassment. "Thinking back, it wasn't particularly special either. I just wanted so much more for you. I can't believe you agreed to fuck people for a star?" "Can it really be much more difficult than sucking their dicks?" Jamie had a point, but it still seemed a little naïve to Wendy. "Two sweaty bodies coming together to slam into each other, pulling hair, feeling and groping?" Wendy made a counter point. "Other than the cock actually going in, they are doing that now, Mom." The word "Mom" made Wendy uneasy. It felt so surreal to be tied up in a cage with another girl who was calling her mom. She had found it easier to think of Jamie more like a 'partner in crime' or just a partner at times. Hearing the word 'mom' brought it back just as it did when Chris often said it. "Maybe you should consider telling your Dad you weren't serious and were answering when you were horny?" "How do you know I was horny?" Jamie's voice carried the smile she was making even if her mom couldn't see it. "Honey, I am a woman and your mother. I can tell you've been horny and oversexed a lot lately, even when I shave you." "I am sorry about that, Mom." Jamie sounded a little more contrite in her response. "It isn't anything to be sorry about. I'd rather you be taking things in stride like this and actually having fun with it than pissing and moaning or crying. I am actually surprised about how brave you are being." Wendy gave her daughter a compliment and there was a quiet pause while that sank in. "Maybe I could just beg him to let me take it up the butt, until I get a chance to have my first with someone I like?" Wendy hadn't expected her daughter to say anything like that. She had been raised to think of anal sex as taboo and something only dirty girls did. She knew her daughter's generation joked that if they lost a video game that 'they just got raped' and were a lot looser with terms about anal sex. There had even been a sign on the wall at the school that said 'Good Girls Swallow' and underneath it read 'fight bulemia'. At the time she saw it she thought it was wholly inappropriate but she was realizing that her daughter's generation saw anal sex as an alternative to teen pregnancy and had taken away the stigma she had been raised with. "You have to make up your own mind, Jamie." She let that hang in the air for a little while before adding "I think you should ask whoever does it first to be someone who will take it slow and knows how to do it." "How is it when Dad fucks you in the ass, Mom?" Jamie asked plainly but in her typically innocent and peppy manner. There was that uncomfortable feeling again around the back of Wendy's neck and leading down her spine. She had never been fucked in front of Jamie but there was no point in denying she hadn't been fucked there. She also knew her father insisted they speak as vulgarly as possible and without euphemisms and her daughter could be a stickler about following rules. "Your father is pretty rough with me, but he has been training my asshole to be wider and so I am used to it. I am lucky if he spits on my asshole before he crams it in." Wendy smiled as she delivered her honest answer. "Do you think I should ask Dad to break me in?" Jamie's question made Wendy even more uneasy. Wendy's silence while forming her response served to make Jamie equally as uneasy. "I hate to say it, but I think actually he would like that." Wendy answered carefully. "What about Chris?" "Gross!" Jamie teased her mom and shifted her weight to punctuate her response. She was kidding "Has Chris fucked you in the ass?" she asked her mother. "No, he is obsessed with touching it, pinching it, watching it, squeezing it, seeing me fart and blow bubbles with it, watching us shit, but no, he hasn't." Wendy wasn't lying. She had been fucked many times in the ass in the last week but Chris hadn't been one of the many guys who had plunged her bowels with his cock. "Do you think if I beg dad to take my asshole cherry, that you would be willing to do me a favor and beg Chris so it doesn't seem so awkward?" Wendy was quiet once again for a little while as if lost in thought. The silence was killing Jamie as she waited without being able to turn around and look at her mother's face. There was a brief sigh and finally Wendy said "The things I do for my kids ... yes, I will." Jamie felt a little awkward about the conversation and the two of them let there be silence for a long while. They both felt a sore aching in their nipples from the milking they had been given and they both wanted to bring that topic up but neither had known where to start. They both needed time to think about how they felt. They both had felt somewhat betrayed and tricked by the 'vitamins' they had been taking but they had both found the experience of being milked to be a mixed bag of pain and pleasure that had been playing with the dopamine levels in their brain and hormones normally reserved for the joys of motherhood and they were confused by an activity that should seem degrading beyond description leaving them feeling something other than just degraded. The truck was slowing down as they neared the Flea Market on the far side of town where mostly poor people and prostitutes lived. Wendy could see a trailer park from the side of the road and an abandoned quarry. "Wow, I wonder how many kids drown swimming in that thing every year?" she asked out loud. "That is kind of a macabre observation, Mom." Jamie noted. "True, I guess just looking at that Trailer Park, I don't think there is any place for the kids that live there to play. When I was that age, I know my brother and sister and I would have gone in there to play Cowboys and Injuns or Cops and robbers or something." Jamie couldn't see what her mom could see between the boxes because they were both facing away from one another. Her mom said "Someone spray painted an F over the 'Buckman Acres' sign. That is funny." She giggled as the truck pulled off the side of the road. "I think we are here!" Jamie sounded excited. Even though it was early when they left by Flea Market time, when they arrived the stands were already bustling with customers and people hawking their old junk. The beat up old drive-in movie had the name of a movie that had not been in theaters for at least five years on a sign that may not have been changed in the same amount of time. The parking lot was just a field of rocky gravel with some wild flowers growing in patches here and there. Bill and Chris got out of the truck but left them where they sat. That made Wendy and Jamie nervous and there was an uncomfortable silence as the two wondered if they had forgotten about them. After ten minutes the guys came back to the truck and drove around the parking lot a little more. When they stopped they moved just enough boxes to unlock and untie the girls. "We got a booth, it's I-69." Chris laughed as he told the girls their lot number. They weren't sure how to respond but both women politely smiled as if that was funny to them. Bill ordered them to start unloading boxes and setting up folding tables. He insisted they bend at the waist as they did while the two of them took it easy. "The more of a show you put on, the more customers stop by." An older gentleman walked past with his wife and put his hand to the side of his mouth to direct his comments to the guys, "You have it made! I wish my wife did all the work" he laughed as his wife slapped his shoulder in response to his joke. "We are the brains, they are the beauty!" Bill offered his explanation for why he and Chris were sitting back in folding chairs with their shades on. "When you get the tent out, Chris and I will put that together for you." He told his wife as if he were doing her a big favor. The camping tent was still in its original packaging. It had been purchased over 15 years ago when Bill had the urge to 'take the family camping'. As things often do, life got in the way and those vacations never materialized, with family visits and cheerleading camp and jobs taking priority. They had never used the tent and as Bill set it up he was kind of glad. It was a very complicated affair with lots of poles and screws that had to be put together in an exact order. It was just the kind of thing to make him feel 'manly' as he grunted and refused to look at the instruction sheet. Chris laughed that the entire thing could probably have been a lot more user friendly. "You miss the point then of setting up a tent. It is just you against the wild." "The settlers had nylon tents from Brookstone, Dad?" Chris asked skeptically and his dad just gave him a funny look in response as if to say 'touche'. It took them as long as it took the girls to get the tables set up to put up the tent. "I was hoping to sell your milk here, but you two can't squirt out enough between you to fill up a thimble I'd imagine." Bill had a hastily written sign that said "Fresh Breast Milk One Dollar" he had made the night previously. "Sorry to disappoint Sir." Wendy tried to keep the sarcasm from her voice as she finished her sentence and she realized now was not the time to be cute. Chris was already smelling the fried foods wafting from a snack booth only a few aisles down. Sausage and green peppers, deep fried onion rings were predominant and he was getting hungry again. "Damn boy, you just had breakfast." "I know, and I am not asking to go. I can smile about the delicious smell can't I?" He asked his father with a smile on his face like a bear who just got all the honey he wanted. "Yeah, life is pretty good right now. Go on and smile, Son." Bill and Chris sat back in the chairs while the women stood. They knew better than to ask to sit or assume they could without being told. There was a brisk amount of people walking down their aisle but more people checked out the girls than they did the merchandise. The girls weren't completely out of place here in their trailer park queen outfits, they actually fit in pretty well. The flea market was not unlike the fair in the kind of people who it generally attracted - Poor white trash mostly. There were garish signs and everything from oriental swords to Latino CDs available on the many different aisles of the flea market. "Son, why don't you take the truck and go pick us up a few things." Bill asked Chris. Bill had never let Chris drive the truck and he was smiling but confused. "You are going to let me drive the truck, Dad?" "You know how don't you?" "Sure!" "Okay" Bill gave him a list of things he wanted him to pick up and Chris left with a purpose to his stride. It wasn't long after he did they got their first interested customer. He was an older man wearing a fishing hat and smoking a pipe. "Seems they got you on row I, do they?" He asked Jamie. "Yes Sir, they do?" She answered with more of a question, implying she wasn't sure what his point was. "Just trying to make conversation, no need to get all huffy." and he walked away. "You had BETTER be more accommodating to the customers!" Bill snapped as he walked away. His daughter answered dutifully, "Yes Sir, I am sorry!" "Too late for that, get in the tent, ten swats and an attitude adjustment." Bill was making no bones about the fact that the girls were still under discipline and they could expect an infraction, which was the lightest level of punishment he used on a regular basis, to keep them in check. As she turned to walk in, the old man came back. "I am sorry. I didn't mean to get the girl in trouble." He puffed his pipe. "She is actually more respectful than most her age." "Tell you what, if you buy something she doesn't get a spanking. How is that?" Bill said jokingly. "How much do I have to buy in order to watch?" the man answered back with the same joking tone and a hearty laugh. He reminded Bill of one of those old vaudevillian comedians like Milton Berle or Phil Silvers. He had a worldliness about him, tempered with a grin. "Ten bucks" Bill answered and when the man answered 'sold', Bill stood there waiting for him to pick out what he was going to buy. Bill had marked most of Wendy and Jamie's stuff for far less than it was worth. This could have been subconscious on his part but charging just ten bucks to watch his daughter be spanked was making him hard just thinking about how it made his daughter feel. That she was being treated like a cheap whore. "You are serious?" The old man answered skeptically. "Sure, for twenty you can watch me spank the wife too." Bill had a goofy grin on his face. The old man considered this offer - seemingly weighing the pros and cons. He reached for his billfold and took out a crisp twenty dollar bill and handed it to Bill without a word. "Pick out anything you want on the table." Bill answered. "I don't want any of this crap," He said dismissively. "Were you serious about spanking them?" The old man answered in a hushed tone as if someone might over hear even though as busy as the market was it wasn't likely. "Let's do one at a time, because someone has to be out here to watch our stuff." "Trust me, it's not going anywhere." The old man answered glibly and followed Bill and Jamie into the tent. Jamie stepped out of her skirt and took the top off with practiced precision revealing nothing underneath. She did so in anticipation of the order and her father smiled at the old man to reassure him it was no trick. "I thought you might not be wearing panties." The old man looked at her with a disgusted expression but one that reminded her of Mrs. Waxerman. The kind that says with the eyes, 'I want to see what you do next." Bill sat on a cot he had set up inside and told his daughter to get over his knee once she was completely naked. "Tell the nice man why you don't wear panties." "I am not allowed to wear panties, because it teaches me humility. I used to act very prideful and now I am learning that my ass is not something special to hide away, it is exactly like everyone else's." As she lay across her father's lap and bared her butt to him. "I have seen quite a few derrieres in my day my dear, and I must say, though you have an especially delightful one it is marred by what is written there. The man delivered his compliment with the alliteration of Danny Kate delivering a clever tongue twister. "If you don't mind me asking, what is written across your backside?" "It says Whore, Sir." Jamie answered him. "Stand up and show him." Bill insisted. As she stood up to face her ass towards him, she spread her cheeks so that he could have a good look at her tattoo. The man blanched and said, "That isn't necessary, really." then he made googly eyes as he took a deep, long look. If Jamie had seen his expression, she might have even giggled because it was such a comic double take. "I behave like a whore, and this is to remind anyone who sees me not to treat me with respect or kindness." She said demurely. It was an explanation she had given many times in affirmations to her father and brother when asked the same question. "Mister, you got your work cut out for you!" The guy introduced himself as, "Buddy Sales, my last name is Sales, and that is what I do." He handed Bill a business card that said simply "Buddy $ales" on a white card stock. Bill didn't think much of the card or the name and set it to the side. He returned his daughter to her position over his knee and began to spank her, driving the flat of his hand down as hard as he could. Jamie had been given enough spankings in the past week that it still fazed her, but it wasn't making her cry. She counted each one out "One, thank you Sir" and only on the fourteenth strike when she had let her legs move further apart did she cry out as her father's hand came down hard on her wet pussy. When he finished giving her twenty he told her to thank the nice man for the donation and send her mother into the tent. "Thank you Sir for watching me be punished. It was rude of me to take that tone with you and I hope that my embarrassment at my father's hands in front of you atones in a small way for my treating you that way." She could have said complete gibberish because Buddy was lost drinking in her youthful naked form and the rosy pink ass cheeks as she hastily pulled on her clothes as if savoring the fleeting drops of the last of his water in the desert. "Mom, it's your turn." Jamie said as she flipped open the tent door to walk out. The sudden change in tone from demure apology to a more light hearted, 'okay your turn to get yours' was lost on the men inside but not her mother. Wendy slapped her daughter on the butt playfully in response as if to answer sarcastically 'rub it in!' with her touch. Wendy hadn't completely wiped the playful banter off her face that her and her daughter had quickly as she entered through the tent flap. When she walked in to see the two men soberly staring at her, "May I ask what I am being punished for, Sir?" she asked her husband as she stepped out of her clothes with the same precision of movement her daughter had moments before. "Did you raise an ungrateful, thoughtless daughter who is rude to her betters?" Wendy wanted to make a joke and ask if he had as well. She knew that wouldn't help the situation so she straightened her shoulders and answered, "Yes Sir, I did and I am being punished for that every day." "So why should today be any exception lovely lady?" Buddy was smiling like a hungry man looking at a steak as he watched the bounce and shift of Wendy's large tits as she took her position over Bill's knee. "Do you want to do this one?" Bill offered Buddy a chance to spank his wife. "Are you kidding? With my Arthritis I would barely tickle her - You be my guest." The elderly man had a trace of a Brooklyn accent that reminded Bill of Mel Brooks. Bill repeated the spanking of his wife with the same force he had used on Jamie. His hand got numb as she counted, "Twelve, Thank you Sir!" "At home, I have paddles for this. Sorry but I need to rest my hand for a second." Without a second thought to the red bottom that was stinging in his lap. "It must be tough out here having to rough it." Buddy joked with Bill. He was in no hurry for him to continue, preferring instead to watch Wendy's tits bounce as she faced the tent floor on her husband's lap. Bill didn't answer instead he brought his hand down to finish off the remaining eight slaps to his wife's ass although the last few seemed much lighter. It wasn't because he had felt sorry for his wife. It was only because he had worn out his hand spanking her. When Wendy composed herself she apologized as she had heard her daughter do. "I am sorry my daughter is such an ungrateful whore like me and that you had to be party to our punishment, Sir." She offered him a curtsy as she had practiced dipping gracefully with one bent knee before getting permission to get dressed and leave the tent. Bill escorted the man out of the tent and noticing several other customers, hastily said goodbye before the old man could get in a parting witty remark. Bill had marked down all the things that meant a lot to Wendy and Jamie but he had equally marked the things that mattered to him up. The family 'heirlooms' seemed like 'family junk' to the shrewd early morning shoppers at the flea market. Bill had left most of his very prized possessions back at Rahjid's motel weeks ago. He was sure no one would care about his old sports memorabilia so it really didn't matter to him anyway at this point. He reflected about how Things seemed to have changed. "You know it's odd," Bill said in a moment of self-genuflection to his wife and daughter. "A week from now was supposed to be the 'Annual Internet Forum Users Meeting'. The people off my internet forum, get together and have pizza and shoot the shit and meet face to face." Bill had been talking to these people for years. He had often argued about politics, sports, religion history and things he really knew nothing about and cared even less about. He would see someone express an opinion and it gave him some satisfaction to disprove their theory or offer a counter point. He would argue, sometimes at length, and it had long since stopped being about the sharing of opinions to reach a consensus and more about humiliating the other person. When he lost his jobs months earlier he had turned increasingly to his forum as a place to relieve his frustrations about growing older and losing his place in the household as breadwinner. His arch nemesis, 'Graymalkin' was always counter-opposed to everything Bill had said under his nom du plume, 'Iceman5142'. Gray had gone to Bill's rival high school twenty years earlier and claimed to have seen the final game that meant so much to Bill as a senior. He also claimed Bill had never been named MVP and won the game ball. Bill had been looking forward to travelling 80 miles to attend the internet forum meeting this year to show his rival the game ball signed by the coach and the old super8 tape of the game. That wouldn't be possible now that they were in such dire economic straights and his stuff was locked up in Rahjid's storage some place, pending his paying of the bill he ran up at the motel. "It really doesn't matter" He said honestly. His priorities had shifted in the last week. He no longer felt the need to take his frustrations out on the strangers of Facebook and the internet forums. He had his wife and daughter for that. He had more than that though. He had this new closeness to them. He had just made them feel like complete heels and humiliated them, but he didn't feel guilty about it. He knew they were being good sports about the whole thing but there was something more to this new relationship. He couldn't quite put his finger on it- A closeness the family had now that they faced these shared hardships together that they never had before. The internet forum seemed childish by comparison now. "What? Oh how much for these wooden coasters? Well if you don't use a coaster on the furniture in our living room, my wife will give you a face. Give them the face, Wendy." Bill was jarred awake from his thoughts to answer the question of some customer about the price of coasters. His wife glared at the customer menacingly but they only laughed assuming it was a joke. "Ten cents" Bill offered and they handed him a dime and walked off with the corkwood stack of coasters. "Sir, if you don't mind me saying, we'll never get what we need at this rate." Wendy hadn't told her husband they were heading for a financial meltdown for days while he over spent. She had agonized that he had taken the mantle of leadership of the family and that included their finances and he must have had a plan. When he discovered they were broke his initial reaction was 'why didn't you tell me?' After her punishment at his hands and a lengthy discussion, Wendy now had a mandate to offer respectful concerns dealing with financial matters. "Good point, here comes your son now with my solution to that." Bill noted eagerly as he stuck the dime in his pocket. "I got it, Dad!" Chris had whip cream, pie tins, markers and some cardboard. "You remember Lucy who used to give advice for a nickel?" Bill asked his wife and daughter rhetorically. "You'll be giving hugs for a dollar." He quickly wrote, 'Hugs $1, everything else negotiable' on a sign that he hung on the front of his merchandise tables. The first few customers looked at the sign and grinned but no one asked about them. The girls were getting lusty glances and looks from teenage boys to old men and angry leers from jealous women shoppers. They weren't getting much in the way of sales though. "Okay, phase two is the pie sale. One of you will be the pie maker and one of you will take her turn poking her head out the tent window." Bill volunteered Jamie to get inside the tent, stripped her naked and cuffed her hands behind her back - "Never leave home without them". He patted her on the butt and walked out to the front where only her head could be seen through the canvas tent window. He hung a sign "Homemade pies to eat $1 or throw at my ungrateful teenager" under her head. Then he showed Wendy how to make a 'home made pie' by using whip cream only and filling a pie tin. "Try to recycle these, we only have about thirty." "Wow, this is like 'Revenge of the Nerds'!" Chris laughed as he pinched his sister's cheeks. "Except I think in that one the Delta Pi's had naked pictures at the bottom of the pie tins." Jamie's face blanched at the thought of being a human target for their twisted games, but she kept up her positive smile and lifted her chin as if it only mildly annoyed her to be stuck with her head through the window of the tent. Bill thought about the logistics of that and declared it was improbable as they waited for customers. He was surprised people seemed to think it was a joke. There were interested gawkers who walked up to ask what she did wrong. "Talked back to my dad and brother, Sir" Her pathetic answers didn't illicit sympathy from people at the flea market. They had their own unruly teenagers or were themselves and their response was usually derisive laughter and a quick glance at the Taylor junk. The stuff that was underpriced seemed like it must be of very low quality to be priced so low and the stuff that was overpriced just scared off any other customers. The Taylor's had been there for almost an hour and had forty dollars in profits to show for it – which after their lot rental fees and the supplies for the pie toss, that was going to be a wash. A young blonde toe-headed boy walked up with his family as bold as could be to Jamie and asked "Kissing booth?" "Sure, Buy a pie and you can kiss my sister." Chris answered for his pouty sister. Jamie tried not to look pathetically helpless about it and gave him a wink and an inviting smirk, instead. The young boy didn't get a chance to answer because his seven older brothers emerged as if from nowhere to take him up on that offer. The older brothers were big teenagers with the same physical build as Chris. The first one handed him a dollar, took a pie from Wendy and threw it hard in Jamie's face. "Suh-PLAT!" The white cream pie had hit its mark dead to center only a few feet away and completely covered Jamie's face and hair. "I can kiss her now?" The older teenager asked plainly. Jamie for all her false courage remained calm in the face of the public humiliation she had only just begun to endure. Jamie had her eyes closed - her pretty face completely obliterated by white cream. She puckered her lips in response to his question and the teenagers in line chuckled in response. There is a famous line from Forrest Gump that said, "Whenever you see a line, stand in it. You never know where it may lead!" There is some truth to that idea because when people see a line, they suddenly become interested and may want to stand in it themselves. That is exactly what started to happen as boy after boy lined up to have a throw at Jamie and then give her a kiss. They'd usually wipe the cream directly off her lips and leave her hair matted with it and the rest of her face covered. Then they'd awkwardly plant a kiss on her lips and if they opened their mouth, she'd open hers. She had done nine rounds of this before the little boy who had started the whole interest finally had enough and shouted "Hey I didn't get a turn!" Wendy bent down and gave the whining boy a smooch on the lips that was hardly provocative in response to the irate young man. His response was to launch one of the pies meant for Jamie directly into Wendy's face. "I didn't get my throw." The spectacle caused a wave of laugher over the twelve or so spectators who were either in line or just enjoying watching what was happening. "Hey, I'd open up a second window, but the tent only has one window in the front." Bill consoled the crowd about the wait. "We can pie the mom, too?" One of the older boys asked in disbelief. "Yah, but it still costs a dollar." Bill answered as if things were perfectly normal. The nonchalance in his responses only served to humiliate Wendy further. She felt they were talking about it as if she were a prop or a toy to be played with if there was space. Every third or fourth pie aimed at her daughter's face was suddenly turned on Wendy who was standing right next to them and sploshed into her face once it became obvious she was fair game. She would awkwardly wait for them to kiss her after unexpectedly ambushing her with a pie to the face, and with the exception of the first kiss, everyone also groped a little ass or boobs as they collected an open mouth kiss. Bill had discovered himself a gold mine, if he could keep the interest up in his line. After the initial dozen or so spectators had their kiss it was starting to die out. Bill was doing his best imitation of "Medieval Steve", the carnival barker who had only nights before run a successful 'tomato pillory' to torment the girls for money at the county fair. The same kind of demographic that comes to the county fair seems to be a large portion of the flea market customer base - questionable personal hygiene, 1980s fashion sense, flaired hair, large belt buckles, boots with skirts, hoochie skirts on the women and wrangler jeans on the men. "Hey from behind the tent, you can see the daughter has no clothes on." One of the earlier customers who had been peeking called out. He was at the back of the tent looking into one of the open window flaps. Bill quickly went behind to quiet the calls as three of the boys joined the one who had discovered the perfect peeping spot. "Look, you guys can stay back here but you have to keep it on the down low. It costs a dollar for admission." He hastily added the second stipulation. "To see a butt? Mister we got the internet. She aint even shaking it." Bill went inside the tent and uncuffed his daughter and whispered in her ear. She understood his order and when her hands were free she began to play with her pussy while remaining bent over to receive kiss-pie-kiss-pie-kiss pie. "There how is that?" "Better, but not worth a dollar" The eldest boy, who reminded Bill of his own son just dressed in denim overalls, complained. Bill went into the truck and found a station that played rap music and turned up the radio. It was obvious to Jamie, the female rapper's infectious beats were a signal to dance and bounce her ass and the accomplished dancer did just that as she continued to masturbate. Gucci Gucci, Louis Louis, Fendi Fendi, Prada The basic bitches wear that shit, so I don't even bother I put that on my partner, I put that on my family Oakland city representer, address me as your majesty Yeah you can kiss the ring, but you can never touch the crown I smoke a million Swisher blunts and I ain't never coming down Bitch you ain't no Barbie I see you work at Arby's Number 2, super-sized Hurry up I'm starving Gnarly, radical, on the block I'm magical See me at your college campus baggie full of Adderalls Call me if you need a fix, call me if you need a boost See them other chicken heads? They don't never leave the coop Unlike Buddy $ales, the teenagers at the back of the tent didn't need or desire any explanation for the surreal sexual spectacle. This may not even be that surprising, that some trailer park sluts were flashing their asses and selling kisses and they weren't going to think too hard about what was motivating them. They handed over the extra dollar to watch the girl play with herself to rap music and a slow progression of young guys made their way back there. Chris stood watch to play, "Door man" while the guys at the back of the tent egged Jamie on. Jamie was ordered to masturbate herself and given the way the piercings made her feel anyway this was an overly authentic chance for her to play with herself. She shook her ass for the guy's sake, but each time she pushed down and rubbed her clit in a steady circle she felt the overwhelming urge to moan. This was good news for the men who kissed her because as she released the euphoric hormones from her good-feelings of masturbating into her body she threw herself into the kisses and sucked the air from their mouths or would playfully hold their tongues in her mouth for some of the cuter boys. Jamie's eyes suddenly went wide after twenty minutes of constant masturbation. "Daddy, I mean Sir!! Oooh please come in the tent!" She sounded like she had just broke something. Her face was caked with fresh whip cream and it was all down her hair and shoulders as she stood up to point to her ripe, shapely teenage tits. A small amount of milk was leaking from them "Oh my god, what is happening?" "It's nothing, jeezus, you act like your fucking broken." Bill summoned his wife inside the tent and stuck his head out the flap to assure the six or seven people currently in line that it would just be a moment. "Get undressed and lick your daughter's nipples, I'll do your job and make the pies". Wendy was shocked when she involuntarily joked, "Are you gonna kiss em too?" She coiled herself awaiting Bill's heavy handed response at the joke that had just slipped out of her lips. Bill only laughed and told her to hurry up as he smiled at his wife's creamy white face to get back to the counter. Wendy waved at the five guys standing behind the tent who had either kissed her or her daughter minutes earlier before collecting behind the tent for the show. They shrunk back when she acknowledged them. It occurred to Wendy that it seemed to make it more enjoyable if they felt they were peeping so she ignored them from that point and disrobed careful so as not to get the whip cream on her clothes. Then she got under Jamie who was back in position and masturbating and started to lick her nipples delicately. "I am the one they call cow tits ya know." Wendy whispered to her daughter conspiratorially. "Don't make me crack up." Jamie whispered back in between awkward kisses and a pie to the face. "My boobs are so sore." "They do seem bigger and more full. I hadn't noticed until this morning. I just thought it was that I had never really seen you topless before all this began and the way the piercings elongate your nipples" A wave of orgasmic panic shivered through Jamie's delicate body as goose bumps appeared on her rib cage from her mother's teasing licks of her tits and words. "Should we be worried they are treating us like guinea pigs and now I've got milk leaking from my boobs?" Jamie's question was half concern and half-humorous. The fact that she was finally getting bigger boobs made it easier to contemplate. Wendy had moved the cot so she could lay under her daughter who was bent over so her head can stick out the window. She began to masturbate herself with one hand while she caressed her daughter's back with the other and used her tongue to titillate her nipples. "Well Mom?" Jamie asked "Hmm?" Wendy was in her own little world. "Never mind." The two put on a show, and even switched places in the window for the next forty minutes until someone from the flea market came and shut down the pie window/kissing booth. Bill even offered them blowjobs from both his wife and daughter but they weren't interested. The quiet man didn't know about the tent window peep show in the back. He had complaints from other vendors and he only cared about quieting things down. "Wow, I am surprised we didn't get kicked out." Bill joked to his son who was standing on one side of the tent making sure no one whipped out their dicks and started masturbating and everyone paid. "Yeah, I am not sure what you have to do at the flea market to get kicked out, but apparently this was not enough." Chris laughed in response. Without the kissing booth in the front to draw new customer, s the back of the tent peep show soon faded down to one viewer and when Chris asked for another dollar to keep viewing he tucked himself in his jeans and left as well. "That was good, but we still haven't moved our merchandise." Bill checked on his wife and daughter who were oblivious to the fact that there was no show. They were kissing and touching as they lay on the bed together intently looking into each other's eyes. "Hey I hate to interrupt your make out session, but we have work to do!" Bill put his hands on his hips. The girls seemed more embarrassed that they hadn't noticed he had been watching and had to be reminded to stop than they had about doing it together in the first place. "I get it, I know it's just an act for me and Chris because you know we like it, but you don't have to enjoy it so much." Bill said to the two girls who weren't so certain that the last hour had been as much of an 'act' but neither were going to say anything if the other didn't. "Get your clothes on, and Chris will walk you down to the bathroom so you can clean up." Bill was counting the money as the two got dressed. Wendy had already come to this conclusion but Jamie was becoming aware of how humiliating it is to have very little charged for your services. If Bill had charged a hundred bucks to look at her ass or a thousand, it would have made her feel 'high priced', but at a dollar a peep, she felt like a cheap whore. A part of her was disgusted about that, but another part accepted and even embraced the role she had to play. It was as if her self-esteem was so confused right now that being a slut actually awakened an adventurous feeling inside of her. The two of them sashayed behind Chris as he escorted them to the bathroom at the flea market. The filthy concrete brick bathrooms were affixed to a food kiosk that sold the greasy foods that Chris loved so much. He was torn between eating or taking the two of them into the bathroom so he could supervise their clean up. "The things I do because I love you so much." Chris said jokingly but sweetly enough that Wendy and Jamie knew it was sincere. He hustled them into the men's bathroom and other than the stench the one thing that dominated the room was a trough that served as a long urinal to serve as many guys as could crowd around it. The stainless steel tube running along the top washed it all down with a tiny trickle of water. 'Sinks out of order' sign was covered in dirt. It had been there for weeks -both toilet stalls were embarrassingly stopped up with toilet paper and filth. "Can we use the girl's bathroom, Sir?" "What, you expect ME to go into the girl's bathroom?" Chris answered "There is still water" he pointed to the trickling stream running down the metal trough urinal. Wendy's mouth popped open in surprise at Chris's stark order. "Would you hesitate like that for Dad?" He asked as he started to evolve his expression from sweetly sadistic to serious and sadistic. "You think if water came out of that sink it'd be any more clean than that trough?" Wendy looked at the sink covered in dirt and realized that the stainless trough actually seemed like a cleaner option. She reached her hand in to it to gather some of the cold water for her face. "Get undressed first! I don't want you getting your outfits as wet as your pussies." "Yes Sir" Wendy and Jamie answered as they stepped out of their skimpy clothes. They were defeated and offered no resistance. They picked a spot on one of the bathroom stalls that was relatively dirt and rust free to drape their clothes on as they stepped out of their shoes and wearing only their new dog collars washed themselves by hand. "Do each other, you know the drill. You are a team." Chris insisted the girls wash just like at home when they are forbidden to touch themselves. The original premise for that was that this way they don't get off on touching themselves in the shower, but the original purpose had been a farce for Chris to watch his mom and sister playfully shower each other's naked bodies under the running faucet at home. There is one rule of fate that seems fairly consistent in the world. If you are trying to teach a kid how to use a bike in an empty parking lot, no matter how abandoned and out of use, someone will want to drive through at that time and make you nervous. Wendy didn't remember teaching Chris to ride a bike but she remembered the old Church parking lot near their house when Jamie was little and how it seemed someone found a reason to cross the parking lot even though she had chosen the spot because the Church was empty. That rule also applies to being naked in a public bathroom. It doesn't matter how out of the way that bathroom is, but when you least want someone to come in – in they walk. A 30 year old Mexican guy nodded at Chris as he saddled up at the urinal to relieve himself. Then he did a double take at Wendy and Jamie who must have been in the blind spot of the eye that prevents you from immediately noticing the two naked women washing themselves in the urinal right in front of you. "Holy Shit, Mang!" He said after he recovered from being stunned by the sheer audacity of the two girls. "You mind if they finish washing the white stuff off their faces?" Chris implied that it might be cum even though the mirky white cream looked more like wet shaving cream. "What the fuck, Mang?" Was his answer as he stood with his dick in his hand watching the two embarrassed women washing each other. It had taken them a while to make as much progress as they cleaned off their faces and chest with the trickle of water, but now they were standing at the trough waiting for the man to finish pissing so they could continue. "I am sorry Sir, if my daughter and I are offending you with our nudity. We got messy earlier and my son couldn't very well go into the woman's bathroom with us." Wendy explained with a half-smile as seriously as she could. If even a week ago, when the idea of submitting to the men had been introduced, the thought of where she was right now had occurred to her she may never have agreed to this. Standing naked in a dirty bathroom cleaning her daughter's face, hair and leaky tits with her fingers from a urinal trough while a stranger tries to make sense of what he is seeing was not something she could have anticipated or imagined. A week later after all the humiliations, training, pain and sex and she couldn't imagine a Sunday without something like this - She had to laugh at the notion. "Why have you stopped washing?" Chris's question was a strict reminder he had not given them permission to stop. "Well we are downstream of the gentleman, I was waiting for him to finish." Wendy pointed out that the shared trough had only a single drizzle of water and right now it was the color of yellow as the mustached and tattoed Hispanic man emptied his bladder into it. "Is this like Candid Camera, Mang?" He started to shake his cock into a semi-circle in the universal 'I'm done pissing' movement and zipped himself up. "No, it's like two dumb whores who got messy, who think this bathroom is too good for them. taking their time because they are too lazy to get back to work. and think I'll go easy on them if they drag this out." Chris judged harshly. There wasn't any truth to it but the stinger bit into Jamie and Wendy both. "You are shitting me, you two are whores?" The big Mexican guy said, finally able to turn and drink the two of them in with his eyes. "Yes Sir, my mom or I will suck your dick for money." Jamie said trying to sound confident. "How much?" The guy bit at the offer. Chris asked for, "Twenty, take your pick, they are both good cock suckers" "You two don't look like whores. Your faces are way too pretty." He was still skeptical as he took the twenty out of his wallet and handed it to Jamie who only motioned him to pay Chris. "He handles our money, Sir. We would only waste it." She dropped to her knees in front of him assuming he had selected her and unzipped his pants. He was still flaccid and his cock smelled of fresh piss but she put it in her mouth and began to work at it from the dirty tiled bathroom floor. He was still in disbelief as he tried to make sense of what was happening. A man chose that particular moment to walk in and seeing the two naked women instantly turned on his heels to leave. "No it's okay man, come on in." the Mexican guy offered the stranger welcome to the bathroom. The stranger walked in reluctantly, "Seems I am interrupting something, I'll just wait outside." He was an older white man in his late forties. He looked wholesome like a pillar of his community that might have stopped at the flea market after church. "They are giving blowjobs for twenty bucks, Mang." The Mexican guy laughed at his explanation. Wendy was watching her daughter and looked up to smile at him naked. Her face still creamy from the pies. "Without condoms?" he asked skeptically "Yeah man, why you got the HPV?" The Mexican answered cheerfully. "I do not!" The forty year old sounded offended as he reached for his wallet to pay the Mexican man who was getting a vigorous dick massage. "No give it to the kid, he is their pimp." The man paid Chris, and after awkwardly trying to find a little privacy in the bathroom, settled for having Wendy, with her back to the far wall, squat down and take his dick out of his pants and make sweet love to it with her mouth. Four more guys came in to the bathroom and two were customers, before once again the little old man who had shut down the pie throwing operation, peeked his head into the bathroom while Jamie and Wendy sucked dicks in the nude. "Nuh-uh, you can't do this in here." Is all he said as he popped his head back out of the bathroom. The customers finished up as quickly as they could with one guy insisting on half his money back because he didn't get to cum. The flea market clerk, satisfied no one else was getting serviced in the bathroom, let the girls clean up, dress and leave without incident. "Holy shit, what do we have to do to get kicked out of the flea market?" Chris asked his mom and sister as they walked out of the dirty bathroom almost a hundred dollars richer than when they walked in. Jamie laughed at her brother's comments, "I was thinking the same thing? I thought for sure we'd end up at Flea Market jail. Do you think that's how we were able to get away with so much at the county fair?" Wendy answered for Chris, "What? That trailer park people aren't as uptight and don't give as much a shit about what people do?" The answer was so plain and raw that it sounded more judgmental and less playful than Wendy wanted but it got the message home. Places like this tolerated women flashing tits and prostitutes because that was the kind of people who came to flea markets. The t-shirts that said 'My other ride is your mom' and 'I am proud to be a Rebel and if you love Obama you can kiss my balls' on a confederate flag were on sale here because people that wore them shopped here. Chris even offered to buy a "If you think I am a whore, you should see my mom" shirt for Jamie but it was decided Bill would have a fit if they spent money instead of helped get out of the debt hole they were in. They were walking through the maze of stalls selling everything from 'As seen on TV' wonder gadgets to auto parts and fake colognes without paying attention to the leers and glares they were getting from people. The people of the flea market might tolerate them and even accept them but dressed and acting as they were they were still going to gawk at them. The high heels kept the girls asses wriggling in their tiny skirts and the lack of bras only made their piercings poking through the flimsy half shirts they had on more apparent. "I wanted to bring something up since it is just us three," Wendy paused and asked Chris, "If it is okay with you Sir?" He shrugged and she continued, "I've known for a while your father has an annual internet forum meeting thing this coming weekend. He booked reservations for it months ago and I think one of the things bothering him about our money situation is now he isn't going to get to go." Jamie caught a delighted wink from a perverted old man who was selling glassware and she winked back at him lasciviously before agreeing that was terrible that he'd miss it. She remembered him talking about it one year but had never paid much attention. "Doesn't he go every year?" "Well he always wanted to but between my job, your cheerleading and whatever you, Sir are doing, he never did" Wendy couched the 'whatever' Chris was doing in as polite a way she could. "Hah, don't sugar coat it Mom, yeah hang around on my fat ass – please continue with what you are trying to say, Cum gobbler". He chuckled. "I can't believe I am saying this," Wendy summoned up her courage, "We've already sucked a few cocks today and made some money. It shocks me I've been able to do all this without freaking out. I thought sucking dicks like a whore was as low as I could sink but now that I've done it, well I guess I can't get lower." "For the first time today and probably the last time ever, I am going to tell you to 'spit it out'." Chris made a double entendre that brought wintry smiles across the girls' faces urging his mom to get to the point. "Just that if Jamie is willing, put us to work as your whores at the flea market and let's make enough for your dad to go to the internet forum. It's important to him and you are going to make us do it anyway, Sir." "Are you saying you enjoy being my whore, Mom?" Chris smiled at his mom. She smiled back knowingly, "You may think I enjoyed being vulnerable, humiliated and naked in a dirty bathroom sucking cocks while you profited because it's such a glamorous life, Sir," she teased "and I will admit there was a certain adrenalin rush of doing the unspeakably dirty thing, but honestly I am asking you to pimp me out harder than you might be inclined, because I really think he deserves to go." "You don't think I pimp you out hard?" Chris asked his mom acting wounded by her comment but tempering it with a smile to let her know he wasn't serious. "You pimp us hard, but for instance those three men over there," Wendy indicated some young guys in denim overalls who were checking them out. "You could offer our mouths to them and we could probably do it behind one of the stalls before that freaky little man who runs the flea market comes out and tells us to stop, Sir." Jamie was smiling at her mom's devilishness and how forward she was being about it. "Why do I have to be the one to make the offer? Can't you go over and seduce them?" Chris asked as he considered the young guys. "I agree with Mom, it is a little easier when it feels like you are telling us we have too and making the decisions - I don't know why." She felt a little stupid and a whole lot slutty admitting that if her brother arranged it, she didn't feel as weird about it. "Well, it is true that I don't want you two to get uppity and start making deals with people, especially you Ass Face, because you'll probably promise them a blowjob every day for a week if they buy this one." Chris was making reference to his sister's predilection to offer them in the past to get out of sticky situations. "How about offering your ass and pussy?" Wendy was about to explain what her and Jamie had talked about on the truck when Jamie stopped her. "You could, but I was going to beg you and Dad if I could only offer my ass for a little while, Sir?" Jamie looked at her brother intently "Why? You aren't on your period." Chris knew that very well since he inspected her sweet pussy on a daily basis. "I would like to save offering my pussy to someone special, and once I do that then I will surrender it to you to rent out, Sir." Jamie answered succinctly but almost choked on the words as she heard herself say them out loud. "For who, Bradley Jenkins?" He teased his sister. "Maybe, Sir." She answered playfully "Fine, you can offer your ass and mouth only THIS time, but when we get back to the booth you are going to beg me and dad properly." Chris decided like an executive planning his agenda as he strutted forward to the men. Jamie wondered why she suddenly felt she had won a small victory now that she was about to get fucked in the ass for possibly the first time. Her mother gave her a reassuring glance as they both sauntered behind Chris towards the men. They were slapping each other on the arms as if deciding who would speak first when the girls approached. They had obviously been staring hard at them in their trashy outfits and dog collars. They stood out in a sea of people dressed in trashy outfits. That was in part because in the face they didn't have that hang-dog trailer park expression but still had the face of suburbanite, white-bread, middle America. Wendy and Jamie were both lookers and had sharply refined noses with high cheek bones that seemed to look out of place on bodies that were wearing revealing miniskirts and halter tops. "My mom and sister were wondering if you'd like them to suck your dick." Chris said plainly with a dead pan expression. The three guys started to chuckle and slap each other more on the arms as if they had struck the lottery and none of them could speak. "Twenty dollars for a BJ, fifty dollars to fuck one of them in the ass." Chris laid out the price and the men suddenly became more wary. "Sure, we pay you and you guys disappear with the money. We've heard this scam before." Said one of the guys who was shorter than the other two, but may have been their leader. Jamie confidently took his hand and guided it under her skirt very quickly and gave him a feel of her slit. "No scam, I'd really like to suck your dick Sir." She performed her quaint southern accent that she had used at the fair for the guy since he seemed like a 'Country Boy' to her. "Fine, half now and half after we bust a nut." The guy answered shrewdly sizing up Wendy. "There are only two of you, so is this guy supposed to suck off Zeke?" "No Sir, he is our pimp. He'll hold the money and keep a watch out." Wendy answered trying her best to emulate her daughter's sexy accent and support their charade as whores. "He can fuck me while I blow one of you." "Oh I see, one of us has to pay the fifty?" The short man was getting more skeptical and he crossed his arm. Chris took back over negotiations "Look, if you want to take turns with them sucking your dicks, it doesn't matter if all three of you stick your dick in my mom's mouth, you'll all three cum for sixty bucks. Is it a deal?" "That aint your real momma." The man said skeptically as he and his friends put together thirty dollars in mostly wadded up ones and fives. Chris didn't want to offend them by asking if they had all sixty because the deal was already tenuous and he thought he should be getting back to the family's booth soon anyway. Chris just nodded and followed the guys who led them out into the parking lot in broad daylight to their truck. Jamie and Wendy were already getting nervous about being led out into broad daylight behind the chuckling guys but gave each other confident glances for moral support as they thought about the oral support they'd soon be giving. The three hopped into the truck's cab and Jamie and Wendy followed. They usually rode in the back of their father's truck and it felt strangely alien to both of them to be inside the cab. "Who wants who to do what, Sirs?" Wendy asked and the men answered by awkwardly unzipping themselves without taking down their denims. Wendy took the leader in the driver's seat by reaching for his cock and pulling it out. She noticed none of them were willing to look down for fear of seeing the others cock. Wendy noted how she could get used to seeing Jamie's nudity but men had such a hang up about it. The guy in the 'hump' seat of the truck was the one they called Zeke and Wendy used her other hand to expertly begin to pump his semi-hard cock. This left Jamie to kneel at the guy in the window seats dick and begin to serve it with her tongue and lips expertly. She wove a spell of magic as she worked her saliva up and down his shaft in a race with her mom to finish first. Neither Wendy nor Jamie admitted it, but they were both competitive and had been secretly racing each other during the blowjobs to see who could make the guy cum the loudest, most or fastest. They both were silently keeping score in their head and assumed the other was completely unaware of the sordid little game they were playing. The guy at the window seat popped his cork first and shot goo down Jamie's throat feeding her his white spunk. He spoke for the first time and sounded functionally retarded. "Thank you Vewwy Much!" The fact that he seemed like he wasn't very bright only deepened Jamie's humiliation but she answered him sweetly, "No thank you Sir, it was delicious." as she licked her lips and was about to start on Zeke's dick while her mother stroked it. Her mother had silently finished the leader's cock and left him in quiet orgasm as she joined her at the same time on Zeke's dick. The two grinned at each other and Wendy began to lick up one side of his shaft while Jamie polished the other side with her tongue. Zeke didn't last long with the two cock suckers giving him double pleasure and when his cock volcano erupted Jamie was the first one to guzzle his jizzle. Her mom making a mental note of a win for Jamie looked a little sullen until Jamie pursed her closed mouth at her mom knowingly and the two French kissed, exchanging the cum without being told. They had only done this a few times in the past and strangely it felt like a shared victory. Wendy erased her mental scoreboard of a win for Jamie on that round and marked it a mental tie with satisfaction that her daughter and her had been good sports. The leader hustled the two out of the cab without as much as a thank you. That was no surprise to either of them. They were growing used to men being relatively in a hurry to pull their pants up and go back to normal after cumming. He was reaching for his wallet to pay when he unexpectedly turned his key and put his truck into gear and peeled out of the parking lot leaving Jamie, Wendy and Chris standing surprised. "What the hell?" Wendy exclaimed with disappointment. She looked at her son as if to gauge his reaction to determine if he blamed the two of them or was upset at her outburst of emotion. Chris just shook his head, "Those fucking assholes, I had a suspicion they didn't have enough money." Was all he said as he ushered his mom and sister back to the family booth to report to his Dad what had just gone down. "Come on Ass face, no sense in crying over spilled milk." Chris chided his sister who looked disappointed as well they hadn't made all the money they were supposed to. Jamie smiled at his stoic attitude about the loss and decided he was right to shake it off. "Thirty dollars for three minutes work is more than you two are worth anyway." He added wiping the new smile spreading on her face right off. ------- Chapter 3: Jamie's Journal -Sunday at the Flea Market STAR COUNT: WENDY: 43 Get out of jail cards: 1 WHORE: 1,3,0,0,0 JAMIE: 52 Get out of jail cards: 1 WHORE: 4,3,0,0,0 Note to reader: This is Jamie's journal from Sunday Morning detailing the events of approximately 10am when she is at the Flea Market. In order to increase readability, some of the dialogue exchanged was altered to appear in a 'narrative' story format. "Oh my God" that is what I was thinking all morning when the pies were flying in my face. "Will this one hit me next? And will this crazy redneck try to swap spit with me even if he misses?" My father had placed the throw line so close to my face that there was no way they could miss. As each guy came to the tent window to kiss me, I had a feeling they could see inside that I was naked with my hands cuffed behind my back. My suspicions were confirmed when they started gathering behind the tent to watch through the rear tent flap. I should have known my Dad wouldn't mind. He actually wanted me to masturbate and dance for them. I have to admit, I never really thought of him as the over-protective type, but he seems to really enjoy showing me off to strangers. What choice did I really have but to comply, and okay journal since it is just you and me, I was getting off on playing with myself in the tent. It made the facials I was getting from the whip cream pies a lot easier to endure. We probably didn't make a lot of money at that before the guy who runs the flea market came and shut down the pie throw and peep show my dad and brother were running with me as the star attraction. He didn't tell us to leave or call the cops, he just waggled his finger and warned us to stop. I am so freaked out about my boobs starting to leak milk that I can barely even talk about it. I feel betrayed that they didn't tell us we were taking some kind of lactation inducing pill that Gerald stole from his dad's pharmacy (no doubt as payment for dating me). On the other hand, I can't help but notice how full my boobs are getting and I can't help but wonder if some of the intense mood swings I have been having are related. I go from euphoric confidence at times to scared naïve school girl and sometimes to evil little vixen. I just assumed it was the stress of realizing I've probably been kicked out of school and will be known forever as the girl who came out at the pep rally in body paint and danced around like a little attention whore. That isn't the only stress, I mean I've sucked so many cocks, I've finally lost count and it's only been two days since I started. Earlier this morning I agreed to get fucked for extra stars and I didn't really even think about what it is going to be like when I opened my big mouth. Am I just a dumb, naïve girl who doesn't know any better or did I subconsciously want to be more of a whore than just a blow job queen? These are questions I have to wrestle with while I walk around the flea market dressed like a trailer park, porn store queen. I can't tell if some of the guys who gawk at me and my mom wiggling our asses through the flea market are doing it just because they think it is sexy or they are laughing at us. I can't tell if it's a guy who kissed me and watched me masturbate or he is a stranger, but I keep looking at their eyes to see if I can sense some recognition from them. I can hardly be blamed for not being sure if they were one of the guys at the tent because I was forced to stay bent over with my head stuck out of the window and my eyes were constantly being coated in thick whip cream between kisses. My brother is really loving all of the attention we are getting and he took us into the men's bathroom so he could watch us clean up. He likes to pretend that if we weren't being watched we would be lazy and lollygag around in the bathroom. I don't think we would want to spend one more minute in there than we had too. My mom has been inspiring me though and she continues to give me a well-placed wink and a nod when I need it most. I was standing in the bathroom completely naked washing my face with urinal water when a guy walked in. I hate to say "Mexican guy" because that sounds racist, but I guess that is the best way to describe him. All I know is that before you could say "Burrito" he has his cock out and mom and I are licking his smelly dick. It was all such a blur. I sucked four more cocks before we were told once again by the manager that we can't be in the men's bathroom. I would have expected him to haul us to 'flea market jail' or something, but he just told us it was a no-no and let us go on our merry way. I keep wondering what we'd have to do to get thrown off the premises and told never to come back. I have a sneaking suspicion I may just find out today! Then mom told me about Dad's internet forum user group meeting thingy. I would not have given much thought to the importance of his events because I've been so focused on my cheerleading camps and school activities that really thinking about what is important to anyone else wasn't ever on my mind. I have this new education to thank for my sudden burst of empathy about Dad's hobby. I know we are hurting for cash and the house payment and the car payment is due and no one says anything lately about me wrecking mom's car but I know that is on their minds and I really feel guilty about it. Mom did something that Chris didn't seem to appreciate or notice but I think we've all turned a corner. She ASKED if he would pimp me and her out harder so that Dad could go to this internet thing that means so much to him. Mom and I haven't had a 'strategy session' since this started about how to approach Dad and Chris. We've talked about bluffing and seeing if we can ruin their fun by asking for more than they are willing to make us do. I think that strategy would have backfired although we've definitely tried it at times, especially with Mrs. Waxerman and her nephews during our 'white alert' sessions. We talked about dragging our feet and trying to avoid humiliation as much as possible but Dad's incentive program has brought out our competitive nature and both of us have been working hard to end things sooner by accepting as much as they can throw at us and more. I think we have really just been playing it 'straight' and doing our best to give the guys payback and even have a little fun with our situation when we can. Today though mom really threw me for a loop when she went above and beyond that and asked Chris if we could be good little whores and pushed harder to earn our way out of this situation. The only other answer is mom is starting to come to grips with our situation and she is actually enjoying being pushed hard. I'll make a mental note to talk to her about it when we are alone together. That wouldn't come for a while because my brother picked three guys who were ogling us and offered us to them. He offered my ass to them but the cheapskates only wanted mouth relief. That is for the best, because I hope the first person to take my ass is going to know what they are doing and none of those dirty rednecks seemed like they knew their cock head from an apple stem. We got in their truck and sucked them off and at the very end mom and I kissed and I passed some cum to her mouth from mine. I wasn't even told to be a dirty girl, and I was! What is wrong with you Jamie? Are you a pervert? I keep asking myself why I did that but I wanted to see the pleased look on their faces and the few times mom and I passed cum that way guys seemed to really love it. These guys didn't love it enough to pay us the whole sixty dollars. They hauled ass as soon as we cleaned their dicks out. "Come on Ass face, no sense in crying over spilled milk." Chris made me realize I was being petty over them leaving and that it was only my ego at work. "Thirty dollars for three minutes work is more than you two are worth anyway" he wiped the smile right off my face and reinforced that for now he is the boss of me. 'Taylor men rule, Taylor women drool' I thought to myself as we reported to my dad. Dad was not happy we had taken so long to get back until he found out we had earned money giving blowjobs. He seemed to think it was my mom's fault we didn't get paid in full for the BJs in the parking lot. "I am sorry Sir, I am not to handle the money because I can't be trusted with it." My mom answered patiently, reaffirming something he had explained was one reason the Taylor men would hold all the cash. "Obviously, and now you can see why!" My dad was connecting what just happened about us getting 'stiffed' for the cash with my mom and I not being able to be trusted. It was kind of a game he played, like if one of them farted in public, they liked to make us take the blame for it. "I am sorry Sir. I'll try to be a better whore for you. Your slut daughter also had something she wanted to say." My mom had given my begging session the introduction it needed. "Can we talk in the tent, so I can strip and be on my knees before you and my brother like a good slut, Sir?" "We don't have a lot of customers out here, so I don't see the point. You really think that after your mother let people drive off and not pay for my merchandize, I should leave her out here by herself?" My dad wasn't making this any easier by declining my offer to beg for my virginity in the nude. I cleared my throat and summoned my gleeful, cheerleader positive can-do attitude. "Earlier today when I was cleaning my mother's cunt with my tongue in the kitchen, I agreed to be fucked in both holes for extra stars Sir." He nodded as he dusted off some knick knacks. I knew he was eating this up, but he was doing a pretty good job of seeming disinterested. "After thinking about it, I would like to ask that it only be my asshole that gets used, Sir." "Nonsense, you can't go back on your word." I had every reason to explain that I hadn't given him my word and I had only half-grunted while eating my mother out but I knew he would twist that around if I went down that path. There were some people walking past but I went down on my knees anyway. The gravel was rough and dusty and bit into my knees but I knew I needed to make my case. "I am a virgin Sir and I'd just like my first time to be with someone special." "Your brother and I aren't special?" Dad sounded deeply offended. There it was, the weird feeling of taboo in the pit of my stomach that it was inevitable he was going to fuck me – his daughter. He had beaten me, chained me, fed me by hand, watched me piss, and made me suck his dick, but somehow this new idea seemed like it was going past that gray line I had built up in my mind into a place that seemed more deeply perverted than the cocks I sucked in the bathroom minutes earlier. "You ARE special, Sir and I'll..." I tried to lower my voice as someone walked up to our counter and I could see my dad wasn't going to let me get away with hiding it, "I want you to be the first to break me in up my ass." The woman customer didn't say a word. She just turned and walked away from our counter as if she hadn't heard me say that while remaining on my knees. "Why?" Dad had his hands on his hips as he asked me to explain myself. "You've done it to mom enough that you know how to take your time and not rip me open, and you are going to fuck me anyway, you should be my first Sir." Chris joked, "Some loyalty". "As far as I know you haven't fucked anyone up the ass sir, but you can watch and go second if it pleases you?" I consoled him without sounding too bitchy (I hoped). "Fine if this is what you want, then get in the tent and lube up your asshole really good and be ready for me when I get in there." I obeyed immediately and stripped in the tent. I took some hand lotion we had been using to lube ourselves for various punishments and slathered it on my still tender asshole and got on all fours on the cot to wait for my dad. He was discussing something with my mom just out of earshot and she seemed to be agreeing with him. I kept wondering once we crossed this bridge together, if he will ever see me as his little girl and daughter or always as a whore to sheathe his cock in. He and Chris walked into the tent. They had apparently forgotten the concern about my mom letting people walk off with the merchandise. "You sure you want me to be your first?" "Yes Sir, to take my asshole cherry!" I tried to muster up 'playful' but I think I only channeled 'goofy' in how I sounded. He put his thumb and finger up to my asshole and started pressing "You should be able to work two fingers into her asshole before you ever think of putting your cock in, Son." He was explaining to my brother while he moved around to where my head was for me to unbuckle him. His throbbing manhood was beating right below his belly as I unzipped it and intuitively put it in my mouth to get it ready. I sucked him, but not so well that he was going to come early. I knew that would piss him off if he didn't get to finish in my ass. He let Chris get behind me and massage my asshole with his fat stubby fingers poking and prodding into me while I sucked my father's dick and started to move a little back and forth on his thumb. "Push in there all the way to the knuckle and wriggle around, make sure there aren't any little turds floating around in there." My Dad sounded pragmatic as he instructed Chris on how to bore me out for cleanliness. I was pleased he found nothing. My dad pulled his cock out of my mouth and got behind me while Chris swapped places with him. Chris's first order of business was to stick his salty fingers into my mouth so I could clean him off while I felt my father's prick tap on the outside of my asshole. I wanted to cry, but I put on a brave face and unzipped by brother so I could suck his dick while waiting for the inevitable impalement to come. Instead of jabbing it into me the way I assumed it would come, my father took his time to pull my cheeks apart and slowly squeeze his dick into my asshole. It felt tight like I was being 'filled'. "May I masturbate with my fingers, Sir?" I gurgled the question while slathering my brother's dick with saliva. Dad slapped my ass hard. "Thinking of your own pleasure? This is to give ME pleasure, to submit to my whims. This is to allow me to establish dominance over you in your tightest hole. You will NOT play with your honey hole while you get it up the ass unless someone tells you too, understand Ass face?" He slapped my ass again to prompt me to answer ... I did. He drove himself further in a few inches to the point I could feel his thighs on the back of my legs. I knew his entire length wasn't in but he had come in quite a distance and he was fucking himself back and forth a little bit in my tight opening. "Please fuck my ass Sir." I cooed as I opened my mouth around my brother's dick. My Dad seemed to like my encouraging him and he was feeling me become less tense because he started to slide himself in and out almost all the way up and down his shaft to the base of his balls each time. I kept my hands in front of me using my brother's dick to hold myself up while my father started pounding me from behind. "OREO!" Chris announced as he started to face fuck me in time with my father's thrust down my poop chute. I know I shouldn't say 'poop chute' unless ordered, and have to call it an asshole, but that is what he called it at the time so that is what I am sticking with. It is my journal after all!  I was expecting it to hurt worse than it did. The metal plug from the chastity belt I wore sometimes was shaped in successively expanding round bulbs that reminded you after each one escaped or entered your ass that it was being invaded by something foreign. Aside from the shock to my dignity, once my father had his cock inside of my ass, it wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be. I focused more on the creaking of the cot as he rode me back and forth and drove me harder and harder against my brother's cock with my mouth. I had started to lose track of all time, whether this had lasted a few seconds or minutes was beyond my power to estimate. My dad had the full length of my hair wrapped around his hand and was pulling it back like the reins of a horse. I thought yanking my hair would hurt but as rough as he was, I can't say that I minded. It felt like the appropriate thing to do with my long hair in the way. I looked over my shoulder and saw my mom peeping at the tent door flap. I smiled at her to reassure her that I wasn't in pain and not to worry about me. She just retreated back from the flap once she realized I could see her watching. I don't blame her if Dad had caught her peaking and not watching the merchandize there is no telling what he might have done - I would have done the exact same thing. My dad slowed his fucking down to a complete stop. I thought perhaps he had discovered shit coming out of my ass but it was that he was about to blow his load. He jerked my hair hard and this time it really hurt and then he proceeded to deposit his hot cum up my ass. I could feel his cock pumping his semen into me but I couldn't actually sense the amount of cum he was actually depositing. He was completely out of breath as he gasped, "You are going to get one star for this session, but both of us are going to break in your ass. That is fair right?" "Yes Sir" Was I going to argue right when he had just cum in my ass that technically I should get one star per person? I don't think so. I just agreed. After all, he did agree to let me keep my 'virginity'. In retrospect, it's hard to really claim to be a virgin with a straight face after you've had anal sex with your own father, lol. My dad got out his cell phone and took a picture of my raw ass. He later showed it to me, what a mess I had made back there. He made me lick his cock clean and let me use a napkin to wipe the sweaty mess from my butt cheeks. Then they ordered me to squat over a saucer we had brought to sell and squirt out the cum. "Every time someone fucks you in the ass, unless told otherwise, assume this position and drip the cum back out before someone else uses your ass. Guys don't like to put their dicks in other men's cum." He instructed. I hated it but I farted twice while I held myself open over the saucer. My father said it was perfectly normal but it didn't stop him and Chris from giggling. They were finally satisfied I had dripped out enough of it. He took the saucer to my mom for what I assume was her cleaning it. He said something about, "It's not a mason jar, but look at what your pretty daughter made for you." I hadn't got a chance to see what my 'slut squeezins' looked like but I pictured something white with a little brown in it - Eewww, ick, right? They liked to call basically anything that came out of us 'slut squeezins' and I knew exactly where mine were going to end up – down my mother's throat! I got back on all fours on the cot and waited for my brother to enter me. I held my ass cheeks apart and looked straight ahead. "How was it Sis?" Chris asked me while my father was outside the tent. "It was fine Sir, it's your turn." Was all I could think to say to him in response. Did he expect me to gush about how it blew my mind or how I was wondering how much my therapy bills are going to be ten years from now when I've finally had time to process what a little pig I was being? "This is actually my first time." Chris admitted to me that he was still a virgin. "I thought you said you had that girl up in Canada one time?" I remembered once when Chris had bragged about a girlfriend that he had in Canada that seemed to be too perfect to be true. I smiled at him impishly now that I realized that had to be entirely bullshit. I was trying not to seem like I was calling him out for lying although I couldn't be sure if he could tell I was giving him my 'That's okay' look or not. He got behind me and began to wrap my hair around his hand like spaghetti around a fork the way my father had. "Keep it up Sis, and I am going to enjoy this more than I should." I wasn't sure what he meant by that and I didn't want to probe too deeply. That is a funny expression considering that he started to probe me deeply in an entirely different way. I was already completely loosened up from my father's cock and he slid right in like a hot knife through butter. He didn't need to inch his way in even though he is a little bigger than my Dad. He was able to fuck me at a medium pace with minimal effort. His fucking me was not as intense as my father's session had been. He was just going for the ride and when my father re-entered the tent, he stood and watched for a minute and then slapped him on the back, "have fun, son." And he walked out without a word to me. Without a cock in my mouth it left me only the green canvas of the cot to stare at and the tent rear window. I kept looking up expecting an audience of excited weirdos to materialize but they never did. I kept thinking I should make "Oh!" noises but Chris was quiet and so was I – the only sound was the steady creaking of the cot and his occasional gasp for breath. Chris was a slacker's slacker and exercise for him was like kryptonite to Superman. He was sweating and the hair from his pubes and chest were clinging to my back now as he tried mightily to finish. "Please cum in my asshole, Sir." I said meekly trying to sound sexy. "Acck, I can't." He stopped fucking me and pulled out in disappointment. "Why not, Sir?" I asked sweetly and turned to look at him. I was never sure if I should look him right in the eyes or not. It felt like maybe it was confrontational but I could tell he was being sensitive and honest and it felt appropriate to make eye contact right then. "Don't give me those innocent baby blues. It just feels wrong to fuck you in the ass. You guys never pushed us this hard and I feel too guilty to get off on it." "You've cum in my mouth before, Sir?" I reminded him but that didn't seem to cheer him up. "Look, I know Cathy Griffin made you stick things in your ass for her that day I left you with her." I turned to him and put my hands on his shoulder to comfort him. "When I agreed to the rules, it was agreed that the training for us had to be different because the kind of things we made you and Dad do wouldn't have really bothered us. We exercised, ate healthy, and cleaned up already so to submit, it had to be in ways that addressed our shortcomings and pleased you guys. You are perverts, we get it." He was listening to me, but looking down at my tits while I spoke. I was surprised that he seemed to be so interested in them all of a sudden. He had spent a lot of time looking into the folds of my cunt and up my ass when he first got control of us to satisfy his curiosity and while he liked to pinch and twist nipples he hadn't been expressly fascinated with them. I looked down to see what he was seeing and then I noticed I was leaking milk out of my engorged nipples. "Sorry Sir" I cupped my boob and gave it a firm squeeze, it was definitely harder and firmer than I remember it being a week earlier. "Keep talking" he said as he slid down to my chest and began suckling my left nipple. He was playing with the metal hoop of my piercing with his tongue as he sucked the droplets of milk that were starting to involuntarily seep from me. "Well, think of it this way, every time you fuck me in the ass or rent me out to someone you are helping me earn my stars and making it so I am done with my education sooner. If you lined up 49 guys today, I'd be done! So I'd be thanking you." "Hahah, you wish. If you fuck 49 guys in a row you'd no longer be able to hold a shit in, it would just sl-i-i-d-e out." He joked as he bit my nipple softly and moved his other hand up to massage my other tit. It was turning me on in a big way which was really clouding my judgment and making it difficult to process what I was doing. I giggled at his joke (more like a cute 'Tee-hee') and started to play with his dick to keep it hard. He stared intently in my eyes and there was this intense connection of intimacy between us for a few moments before he laid me flat on my back on the cot. I cautioned him with a whisper "no" because I thought he was going to fuck me but he ignored me and moved down my belly to put his mouth over my cunt. My mom had been the only other person to eat me out and usually she had only done the bare minimum to get us through the exercise. Chris was licking the alphabet, I could tell because I had done that to mom some times when I had to clean her. He started to playfully tap on my clit piercing and tug on the hood before reaching both hands up to knead my breasts and focus his tongue on invading my clit. My first orgasm was almost immediate but short. Then it was followed by two smaller ones and finally I couldn't stand it anymore I was writhing and squirming and I had my knees buckled around his head, holding him in place so he could continue to service my pussy - It felt amazing and I didn't want him to stop. I can almost feel his wet tongue right now. I whispered, "Fuck me Chris, fuck your little sister!" but instead he stopped and pulled up his pants and left the tent entirely. I waited for a full minute before assuming he was done and asked through the tent material, "Should I get dressed Sir?" My mom told me they were both talking and to just wait there. "Are you okay, Jamie?" "Just peachy, mom." I joked back to let her know that I was alright. I wish she had joked back because she just returned my joke with silence. I really wished she would have said something. I was feeling all stretched out and slimy, my tits were sore and aching and I was swimming with mixed feelings of guilt, pleasure and a desire to remain true to my commitment. Her silence made me wonder if she was shocked, horrified or laughing quietly at my little quip and I just couldn't see her face. I remained on all fours on the cot in the nude and just waited for them to finish whatever they were doing. I've said it before and I'll say it again - the waiting can be an intensely difficult part of this training. When there is action and someone is directing you, at least you know what is happening and what may happen next. Alone with my thoughts I have a thousand scenarios running through my mind and nothing but time to wonder about them. I pictured the door flap opening and in walking one of Chris's Friends or Cathy Griffin to chuckle at my situation. I pictured Chris and Dad bringing back those gross boys from earlier to fuck me in the ass and run a train on me. Wouldn't that be horrible? The weird part is that I think my imaginary version of that was far worse than the reality and I just wanted him to come back in and tell me what to do next instead of leaving me naked on the cot. When the flap did open it was Chris pulling my mom with just two fingers by her collar "Come on in Cow Tits and take a look at my lovely younger Sister." He shoved her into the room. I hated to see him shove my mom around. I feel like perhaps if I could be the lightning rod to absorb all the family's dysfunctions, and all of my dad and brother's outrage towards us for what we did, that she wouldn't have to suffer so much. I know that probably sounds really noble and probably like I am being selfless, but I am not trying to sound like a martyr. I just think maybe I can probably absorb more pain than my mom and maybe it would be better to focus it on me. If the guys don't have an outlet for their frustrations, they will turn on each other or go back to the frustrating behavior they seemed to develop over the years of feeling powerless. Wouldn't it make everything we have done in training pointless if my dad goes back to being an angry, internet flame warrior who has to spend hours in pointless arguments just to feel like he 'won' at something? Or my brother going back to feeling like the lonely, nerdy kid who always gets picked on? They've come so far and started to gain so much confidence and self-assurance. Okay, I am also not kidding anyone that this seems like an adventure on some level and I want to see where it goes. I've already done so many things I thought I would never do or never thought about doing and now that I've done them it feels like the shield of innocence I've been taught to hold all my life has finally fallen down and I am still standing. Once you do it and get it over with, you start to wonder why was I so afraid of this? Why was I so reluctant? Things have gotten so blurry for me between all that has happened in my life, turning it upside down, and this damned clip on my clit and now I learn I've had hormone treatment for a week, maybe that explains why I am so confused at times? I've been 'naughty' and after years of being 'nice' and some times that can be exciting. Exciting may not be the proper word, there is a feeling of adrenalin rush and a curiosity about how far things are going to go that I can't quite put into words. I've felt like a rotten bitch, who let my family down and participated in the humiliation of my father and brother. I've beaten myself up over being so self-absorbed before any of that ever happened. At other times, I've felt almost euphoric and brave as if I am indestructible both mentally and physically and while I've had those feelings before this training began but never quite so intensely. There are of course downsides like my brother being able to order me to get down on the dirty tent mat and squat naked in front of my mom so she can sniff my asshole. "Smell that shitter - you like that?" Chris demanded of my mom. "You two fart machines are going to be giving up those asses to strangers today like good little whores, right?" He sounded angrier than usual. I was suspecting he had gotten spooked when he had a chance to poke me in the ass and he was lashing out at my mom for some reason. "Yes Sir, if you and your father want us to give up our asses, we are your whores to order around." My mom was the first to answer and I followed quickly after. It wasn't quick enough to avoid a slap from my brother square on my exposed ass cheeks. I guess I deserved that for being so absorbed in what I'd write in my journal to answer him promptly. He flipped us around face to face and handed us a marker with the instruction to write 'Pussy broke, use rear entrance' on each other's bellies. We did it and I tried to gauge whether my mom was smiling impishly or looking horrified - I decided it was a little of both. "Look what Dad found my little fluffer- nutters." Chris had taken his pants off while we were drawing on each other and was holding what looked like a wooden antique. It had been hand painted in a Bavarian German beer garden style with little men and women in lederhosen and green caps dancing around holding beer. "This is a tit roller." He announced. I was skeptical and I could tell my mom was too. Who would have made something like this for fetish play and sold it at the flea market. It did look like it could be used to flatten pie crust dough because it had a wooden roller and crank handle but now was not the time to challenge Chris. He had a maniacal look in his eye. "Let's see how many slut squeezings I can get out of your titties, since you like to get milky all the time, Sis." He opened the wooden hinge to expose two wooden rollers and then clamped it down on my tits. Not at the base, but about 2 inches before my nipples began and he started to turn it. I knew my face was turning beet red as I struggled to endure the pain. I had my eyes shut as I pictured him rolling my tits as flat as a pancake - I tried not to scream. "Go on fluffer, lap up that milk." I half opened my eyes once he had stopped struggling with the pie/tit roller to see if he was talking to me. It was obvious he meant my mom because I could see her bringing her wet mouth down over my nipples to stimulate and suck the tiny bit of milk that had seeped out. I think I must have OCD or something because my first thought wasn't, "Holy Shit, my brother just used a chest-press to squeeze my tits until milk squirted out." It was, "Why is he calling her fluffer? Her nickname is Cow Tits". It is almost as if he was reading my mind because he clarified "You know, maybe those are good names for you, Mom you are the fluffer and Jamie you are the fucking nutter." He laughed at his own joke. I was mentally weighing whether ass face was more of an insult than 'nutter' and if he meant it like I was crazy or I helped guys get off or both. "Put your chin on my cock, Nutbuster" There he went again making up even more nicknames. I suddenly noticed I had put my hands behind my head with my fingers interlaced without being told during the tit crushing ordeal I had just endured - I guess my subconscious did that. I didn't take my hands away, I just complied with my brothers order and rested my chin on his fat chubby half-erection and looked up at him. He was quiet for a moment, lulling me with his quiet strength that I felt secure on my knees before him. He must have intended to get me at ease because after considering my face and staring intently into my eyes his face turned cruel again. "What is it going to take to make you cry, you fucking bitch? I want to see into your mind as the tears roll down your cheeks and onto your tits. You think you are impressing me by shrugging off the tit-press, and being a good little whore, but I know somewhere in there is the scared little sister who is too good for this, and who wants to weep and hide." "I am sorry sir" and before I could say anymore he gave the chest-press another crank and caused me to wince and reconsider what I might have said just then. My mom was still sucking my tits alternating between them while squatting in front of me and she gave my left one a small playful bite in solidarity with me. "You fucking stone faced whore, you are always smiling!" He sounded so serious, but then his voice cracked and he started to laugh. He dropped his intensely sadistic façade and I don't know why but I started to laugh too and so did my mom. "Okay, okay ... I am trying to be hard on you and give you an affirmation to get you two in your proper respectful position but you are making it hard by looking up at me with that dumb, goofy smile." I didn't even realize I was smiling - I probably flash my big goofy grin all the time. "I am sorry Sir. It's just the cheerleader in me I guess." "Well today it's going to be the cock in you!" His tone was now joking as he dropped the charade of the strict task master and joined in the gallows humor. He kept the chest press tightly pressed on me and arranged us both on all fours with our heads down to the gravel and holding our asses apart. I could hear him taking a photo with his cell phone, at least I assumed it was him as I couldn't see behind me. Chris held up a tube of Bengay. "Since you two aren't going to give up your precious little piss holes today, you will apply this to each other between fucks. He slathered some of the ointment on his fingers and without warning applied it all around my pussy lips. "You should offer whoever just fucked you an opportunity to apply it and tell him your pussy is sore. If not, I want you two to apply it right in front of them if possible." He had used this on me before all around my asshole and I knew just how uncomfortable it could be. It caused me to shake and shimmy as the crème started to heat up around my skin. I know there is aloe vera in there to soothe but there is also some kind of menthol that really starts to sting if you put it on sensitive places. My cunt was extra sensitive because I was already hopping back and forth on my knees trying to hold my position. He told me not to move and slapped my ass but I couldn't help hopping and jiggling. He spoke directly into my asshole "Hello" and he tapped on it "is this thing on? Earth to Jamie ... stop thinking perverted thoughts about your stinky little pussy feeling so good and stay still." as if it was a microphone to my brain. It made me smile but did nothing to slow my spasms. He gave my mom the same treatment and from the look on her face it was that same impish smile mixed with a look of abject horror she had earlier. She was grinding and digging her nails into the gravel underneath our faces just like I was as we both suffered through his introduction to our new ointment. He pointed out it was only fair since I wasn't going to give up my pussy, that I also suffer in some way as 'tits for tats' (did I mention he is big on puns with a double meaning? Lol). When the irritating pain of the crème had subsided he had us stand up and do jumping jacks (me with the boob roller firmly clipped around my tits) - With the extra weight of the wooden rack bouncing up and down and jabbing me in the ribs it was not very pleasant but both my mother and I did each one crisply inside the tent. He pulled up his pants and stepped out to check on the stand and probably have a laugh with my father about what we just went through. We didn't dare stop executing each jumping jack perfectly and in synchronicity with one another because the moment we did he probably would have walked back into the tent. I'm in good shape but there is a point where my bare feet started to really feel like they were going to buckle on the jagged white gravel under them. Thankfully after about fifteen minutes we were told we could stop. "Do you two walking cum stains need to piss or shit before we have you walk the length of the flea market to earn your keep?" "No sir, but aren't one of you going to come with us, to supervise?" My mom asked innocently. I knew it wasn't that she wanted supervision as much as she didn't want to be the one to have to go up and offer our services. "Chris and me are going to eat lunch. You are to be gone for one hour – no more, no less. You can take your purse and bring your cell phone. You'll be working together and I expect you to tell on each other for rule violations. This is where you two can prove you can handle yourselves with only indirect monitoring. You'll send back cell phone pictures, and whoever has the most amusing one wins an H. If one of you out performs the other money-wise, you earn an extra star." He explained which set off my internal desire to compete. "Earn as much you can, but remember it's twenty for a BJ and fifty to fuck you in the ass, don't charge more or less." Chris instructed as we both slipped on our clothes and I was finally able to unhook the tit press that was driving me bananas. "Don't you want us to earn extra Sir?" Mom asked my brother coyly. "No, you two dumb cunts are manipulators. You might charge too much when it's not worth it, or give deals to people you really want to fuck." He looked right at me as he made that statement as if to drive it home further. My dad looked like he was going to countermand what Chris just said and tell us to get whatever we could, but he stopped himself and shook his head yes - adding "We may be sending out ringers to test you, so don't get crafty. If they offer you more, you just thank them and say you aren't worth more and give them back their change." The two of them were watching our reaction as if maybe I was going to scream and beg not to walk the track. The look on my father's face as I sauntered out of the tent holding my mom's hand and wiggling my ass "Wish us luck, Sir" was priceless. He seemed stunned and I've got to admit I really liked how the ones who looked most shocked where the guys and not the girls. We picked a direction in the busy flea market and started looking for our first 'trick'. I couldn't contain my enthusiasm now that we were on our own and I probably had that dumb goofy smile on my face whether I wanted it or not baring my pearly whites like a slutty whore out to turn a buck or a kid in a candy shop which is exactly what I am. ------- Chapter 4: Wendy's Journal -Sunday at the Flea Market STAR COUNT: WENDY: 43 Get out of jail cards: 1 WHORE: 1,3,0,0,0 JAMIE: 52 Get out of jail cards: 1 WHORE: 4,3,0,0,0 *Note to reader: This is Wendy's journal from Sunday Morning detailing the events of approximately 11am when she is at the Flea Market and recapping some of Jamie's journal. In order to increase readability, some of the dialogue exchanged was altered to appear in a 'narrative' story format. "Oh my God" that is what I was thinking as I stood outside the tent while my husband was fucking my darling daughter in her ass. What is wrong with me as a mother, parent and adult that I've found myself justifying all of the things we have been doing? I stood there as my daughter had begged to only take strangers up the ass minutes earlier -That had been my idea. Why didn't I tell her to beg not to take anyone up any hole and to just play this twisted game with the least amount of humiliation possible? I wrestled with those thoughts as well and all the conflicting feelings I had about our financial situation. Bill knew how to make me feel guilty about my boob job (even though it was years ago) and now not warning him we seemed to be heading off a cliff with all the bills due. I have to wonder if my maternal instincts about being a good mother and a good wife are going haywire because of the hormones they've been feeding me? We've been on them for over a week now and maybe they have a subtle effect on how I process things? I've felt increasingly submissive like it is my place to be beneath the men of the house. That is completely against the programming I received growing up in the 1980s about female empowerment and getting ahead in the workplace. I have this sneaking suspicion that my mood swings that alternate between anger, fear, and acceptance of my position could be related to whatever is in those hormone pills that make me leak milk. Then again they say whenever you think you have 'sneaking suspicions' you really have paranoia. Bill had given me an affirmation minutes before walking into the tent. He basically did it right out in the open. He would ask "Are you a cumgobbler?" and I would answer that I am. He would ask if I knew I was inferior to the men of the house and I would answer that I was. Then he got on the topic of what he was about to do with Jamie. "Do you know that I am about to fuck your daughter up her little stinker?" "Yes Sir" it was always 'my daughter' when he wanted to say something bad about her. "You twisted cunt, you don't even seem like you are upset about it." He dismissed me in disgust. I was confused, wasn't I supposed to take all this on the chin and keep on coming? He walked into the tent and left me to mind our merchandise. It wasn't long before I could hear my daughter moaning inside the tent as Bill grunted and emptied his cum in her ass (I can only assume). That made it difficult to give my own situation the full gravitas it deserved considering I was also supposed to be hawking my treasured family heirlooms and decorations to passing strangers. I hadn't even told Jamie but this was really making me sad to see all the stuff I bought sold so cheaply. I guess it is like giving a ten dollar blowjob to a stranger. If I just gave it away for free it wouldn't seem quite so cheap and tawdry as asking for a measly ten dollars. Bill had marked up a lot of his own stuff and I knew that was his way of subtly reminding me he thought the tacky sports memorabilia and Fingerhut collectibles he considered 'treasures' weren't junk. The elegant wicker baskets, candles and picture frames I had culled from Pier One, American Candle company and Bed, Bath and Beyond were all priced cheaply to demonstrate just how little Bill valued them. I wondered if he'd miss them when they are gone. "Probably not" I thought to myself smugly. I was dealing with a Haitian man who wanted me to come down on some tumblers that were priced at a quarter for six of them. "I am sorry Sir. I don't think I am allowed to negotiate prices." I told him and he acted as if I were the most stuck up person in the world and walked away dismissively. I overheard Bill and Chris shout "OREO" inside the tent and my mind went wild speculating just what brought that on. I pictured Jamie sandwiched in between the two of them with both of their cocks out jamming into her back and forth. It's funny how two weeks ago I would have assumed Bill and my son were fighting over the last Oreo cookie if I'd heard that. I couldn't help it that my curiosity had got the best of me. I peeped in the tent and saw that I was right about the position Jamie was in. Her father was pulling her hair from behind and her brother was feeding his dong down her throat. How nasty am I that I didn't rush in there and stop it? Jamie caught me peeping but she just looked up at me with those beautiful baby blue eyes and flashed me her trademark pearly white smile like she was having the time of her life and not to worry - That girl is a saint. I say that with a certain hint of irony considering she has 'whore' tattooed on her ass and was smiling at me while I watched her take two cocks at once. I guess though it's how she is serving and holding herself up that impresses me. I wonder if Jamie realizes how magazine model perfect her All-American smile really looks? She never seems self-conscious about flashing that smile and she does it often enough. At that age, I always thought everything I did was awkward and goofy. It's so nice to know my daughter is more comfortable with herself and didn't fall into the same self-deceptive behavior that everything she does looks silly. She is just so naturally that 'girl next door'. Which is why it's so surreal watching her pull her ass cheeks apart and let my husband drive his sweaty, hairy crotch into her backdoor and can actually look up at me and smile sweetly. I didn't want her to think I was a bigger pervert than it seems I am for allowing this to go on so I retreated back to the counter where I was supposed to be. I smiled at people who were more interested in my tits bouncing around in the short top I was wearing instead of the merchandise on the counter. I tried to think about anything else but all I could keep coming back to was Jamie's adoring, trusting smile looking up at me. I have to admit I felt more than a bit guilty that so much of this is my fault. I just wish I could go back in time and not have included her in enslaving Bill and Chris. I should say that I wish I hadn't ever enslaved Bill and Chris – but I can't. I mean on one hand I regret hurting them and putting them through it all but so much of this has taught us so much, even though it turned our lives upside down. So I won't say I wish I hadn't enslaved them. I just wish this was all completely on me. I'd even let Jamie be the boss of me just like them. 'Mistress Jamie' could be cracking a whip over me and marching me around just like her father and brother and I'd be completely fine with that. I spent the next several minutes painting a scenario in my mind that worked exactly like that. Jamie was my Mistress and I was jiggling and wiggling beneath her and because she knew me better in some ways than Bill and Chris her affirmations stung even more than theirs. She knows more how the female mind works and her dares and games and tortures would work on me because she knows what would scare her and bring out the submissiveness in her. I envisioned her in red latex thigh high boots with six inch heels and a matching vest with a crotch less pair of scarlet-dyed leather shorts. She had a long red whip and she was winding it up and lashing into my back and telling me what a horrible mother I am. "STOP PLAYING WITH YOURSELF SLUT!" Bill slapped me on the boobs and knocked me out of my daydreams. I had actually put my finger under my skirt and that was the first time I had played with myself without being told to do it (at least that I am aware of, maybe I've done it when I didn't realize it and no one caught me). I was sure he would punish me for it, but instead he handed me a saucer with what looked like pink cum on it. "Lap it up, cum gobbler." I did exactly what I was told and I soon realized that this had probably just come from my daughter's formerly virgin ass. It didn't taste like shit but I did get a coppery taste from the blood mixed in with the cum. I am smart enough to put two and two together. "You'll both squat right after you get fucked in the ass and the other one will gobble it up. If you are alone then you'll gobble your own goo, got it?" Bill liked to use alliteration like Chris liked to use puns. "Yes Sir, I got it." I answered. I was still trying to unlock the source of that wicked fantasy where my daughter was my Domme. I would like to say that I think it comes from my desire to protect her from all of this. If they all three focused on training me then she wouldn't have to do it. I feel like perhaps if I could be the lightning rod to absorb all the family's dysfunctions, and all of my husband's and son's outrage towards us for what I did and their own shortcomings that frustrate them, that she wouldn't have to suffer. I know that probably sounds really noble and probably like I am being selfless, but I am not trying to sound like a martyr. I just know I can absorb more pain than her and I've already been getting fucked regularly so what is the harm if it continues to happen? It isn't like I can sink any lower now that I've crossed this threshold? At least I don't think I can sink lower. Then again I had just lapped up a fresh saucer of ass-cum that my daughter dripped out of her ass that came straight from my husband's cock. It may be premature to declare it impossible for me to sink into further degradation as I am finding each day they think of new and improved ways to humble me. I suppose it is futile to wish that it was just me as the family pet and not both of us. Then again I wonder if maybe it isn't so much that I want to save her – because I really do draw strength from our shared sacrifice and experience. Could it be I am such an attention whore I just want all of it on me? That is a horrible theory. I'll push that right back to the deep, dark, outer reaches of my mind and focus on what I am supposed to be doing. Which is apparently at this moment in time having my throat grabbed by my son with two fingers and jerked into the tent and thrown on the ground with my naked daughter. "Come on in Cow Tits and take a look at my lovely younger Sister." He sneered at me like I am truly beneath him. I don't blame him for seeing me that way. The way I am behaving, there is no reason to respect me as an authority figure. He may never see me as one again but then he is almost grown anyway. I still see my parents that way but most people don't by the time they are eighteen. I guess it's like believing in Santa Claus. Eventually most of us outgrow the idea of believing our parents have some magical authority over us. For Chris that time has come in spades, because he ripped my clothes off and manhandled me until I was down on the ground with my nose pressed up against my daughter's pink, raw asshole. He was holding my neck with one hand and bracing my shoulders with another as if I might try to fight to get back up but all he had to do was order it and I would have assumed the position. "Smell that shitter - you like that?" I tried to nod but his grip was so vice-like around my neck I couldn't do anything and I was too stunned to answer before he said, "You two fart machines are going to be giving up those asses to strangers today like good little whores, right?" Jamie must have been too because usually she answers right along with me, "Yes Sir, if you and your father want us to give up our asses, we are your whores to order around." I blurted out. I was breathing heavy and I could feel my pulse racing now that Chris seemed to be getting out his frustrations on me. The scratchy white gravel was biting into my knees and being naked and exposed with my nose pressed to my daughter's ass was only adding to the adrenalin of fear and on some level a primal arousal of being conquered and splayed like a freshly caught rabbit on the hunt. Jamie was just a little slow on her reply to her brother. He didn't tolerate it and he gave her ass a hard slap that made me wince for her - She wouldn't soon forget that swat! He flipped us around face to face and handed us a marker with the instruction to write 'Pussy broke, use rear entrance' on each other's bellies. I knew that people would see that and probably ask and I was already trying to come up with some snarky response that might be funny. Jamie had that adoring, innocently naïve, girl next door smile and it made it hard to look at her. I don't know if she could tell if I was thinking about what I'd say to some old man or scornful woman about us parading around with something like this written in marker on our tummies dressed as we are, but I tried to give her a supportive wink to let her know not to be afraid. Chris had what was obviously an antique Bavarian Pie Roller. He probably picked it up for a few bucks at one of the other stands of people trying to get rid of their junk and he obviously thought it was some sort of fetish device. At first I didn't really think it would work but he managed to clamp it around my daughter's boobs and I don't know if her face was anguish or orgasm or some kind of angasm combination but I watched the entire thing. He rolled it over her perky tits and said, "Let's see how many slut squeezings I can get out of your titties, since you like to get milky all the time, Sis." And sure enough milk started to spurt ever so slightly from her already puffy and sore nipples. I didn't wait for him to tell me to do it I just opened my mouth and began to lick them. I knew it was an inevitable order and I had a self-satisfied grin as he ordered "Go on fluffer, lap up that milk." To encourage me to keep going. I am not sure where he got the term 'fluffer' from, but it's a lot better than 'Cow Tits'. He was probably sizing my chest up to see if he could fit the pie roller around it but fat chance of that. Score one advantage for having giant tits in all of this. They are normally big balloon targets for guys but at least for this exercise I get a free-pass. So much for my, "I wish I was the only one serving" fantasy of the self-less mother who wants to absorb all the family's anger, lust and scorn to spare them the negative consequences of having no outlet. I am so confused, I sometimes feel that way and then other times I am half-grinning 'at least it isn't me'. I think that might be my competitive side coming out. Chris was doing an affirmation with his Sister, I really wasn't listening. I should have been because I can sometimes anticipate the theme of his questions and start to plan my answers when I do. I also actually learn some things about myself when I listen to Jamie's answers wondering if I would have phrased it exactly like she had or not. I just kept licking and playfully biting at her nipples alternating between the left fat nub and the right one. I can tell now they are getting firmer and that has to be the hormones at work plus the constant blood-flow struggling to get to the tip through the fat ring piercings she has bobbing up and down. I used my tongue to flick them up and down and spin them a little through the hole of the piercing. I imagined them like tiny door knockers 'Hello, I am your mother, can I come inside? Open up.' I laughed out loud as I painted the mental image in my mind. Perfect timing, because they were laughing about something else at the same time so it sounded like I was just joining in. Chris's sour mood had evaporated and he was no longer acting like the stern task master with an axe (ass?) to grind. Isn't it amazing how our absorbing his frustrations can make him more placid and affable, even loving? I had started to wonder if maybe some of his jokes were intended to make himself not feel so guilty about punishing and training us. He once sternly handcuffed me to the shower rail and then said "Hang around" in this serious voice, but it was obvious he was joking because he did it in that Austrian Arnold Swarzenegger voice he sometimes uses to deliver short 'Get to the Choppa!' and 'I'll be back' comments. It is really hard to say what goes through Chris's mind. I didn't have a lot of time to think about it because he had arranged me and Jamie side by side on all fours with our knees, the flat of our palms and our toes pressed into the digging gravel. He slathered Ben Gay on my pussy lips and I suddenly wished I had been paying attention to his instructions because then maybe I would have anticipated it coming and prepared better. I began dancing and hopping and squirming trying to endure the sensation of icy-hot tingling all along what is obviously one of the most sensitive parts of my body. He got it all up in my clit hood and it was all I could do not to bite Jamie on the neck just to control myself. I shut my eyes and wiggled in what was probably something like her "Angasm" earlier combining anguish and orgasm. He said something while leaning into my asshole like "Clean up on Aisle Sixty nine, there has been a spill, it's wet all over" and you can add gigglegasm to the list of terms I am making up today because even though I was digging my nails into the gravel and squirming I managed to gasp a little laughter too. I wanted to joke, "Chris have you Ben Gay?" but I couldn't bring myself to dare delivering the pun. I looked over at Jamie who was feeling it too and just rode out the feeling until it started to settle down. He told us we'd be applying this every time we get fucked as compensation for not giving up the pussy. I don't think that is really fair. I'd give up my pussy, it just isn't fair to Jamie if I will do more than she will so I was doing that to support her. I guess no good deed goes unpunished because now not only are we going to squat and drink the cum out of each other's butts, but we are going to ask the guy to lather up our twats and if he won't do it right in front of him. Chris called it "Tits for Tats" that we'd have to give him something in exchange for not giving up what was his by right. I guess in retrospect that is fair. He had us stand up and perform jumping jacks while he zipped himself up and left the tent. I wanted to say something to Jamie about how the day was turning out but she was having to deal with the tit roller flying up and hitting her in the face as she jumped up and then back down adding its weight to pull her tits down and slam into her belly as she exercised. I kept my mouth shut and just wondered if they were going to fuck my ass like they had Jamie before we start. I have to stop wondering so much about what happens next and stay focused on the moment at hand. It was easy for me to keep pace with my daughter given I've been doing cardio like this for years - "Like this" I mean with the exception of being naked in a tent with Bengay ointment still simmering on my cunt lips. It must have been fifteen minutes before Bill and Chris walked back in to check on us. We didn't cheat while they were outside because you never know if they are supervising us secretly. My daughter would probably tattle on me if I did anyway. "Do you two walking cum stains need to piss or shit before we have you walk the length of the flea market to earn your keep?" My husband asked but he didn't tell us to stop so I kept going. "No sir, but aren't one of you going to come with us, to supervise?" I was suddenly aware that without either of them to supervise it also meant we'd have to be the ones to walk up and ask. I am sure it sounded like I am becoming more reliant on them to keep me in line and probably on some level I have, but this was for the purely selfish reason that it was going to be far more difficult to be aggressive with strangers now that I've spent over a week being submissive with them. Bill explained he was going to lunch with Chris and that we were to be back in exactly one hour. We were to take the camera, and to earn extra stars we could take naughty and daring pictures and send them back. It was less a suggestion and more of an implied expectation. I was already noting the look on my daughter's face as she was probably wondering how she could win the contest. I had to smile that she was so much like me because that is exactly what I was thinking. Chris told us we couldn't negotiate the prices, they were fixed. I assumed he would want us to charge more since we were in such a financial pickle but he didn't want us wheeling and dealing with the clients "tricks" as they are called on the "track" (Hey, compared to Jamie I am a seasoned whore, so I know these terms). I thought Bill might countermand Chris's instruction but he just nodded and told us that we'd probably try to give deals to the good looking ones and piss off the ugly ones. Speaking for myself, He was more than half right on that one, I guess he is right about me being naturally manipulative. He made it clear he'd try to send a ringer to test us so we'd better play along. We got dressed quickly and took each other's hand and sauntered playfully out of the tent – wiggling what the good lord blessed us both with. Jamie even dared a sultry "Wish us luck, Sir" as we picked a random direction in the maze of toasters, vacuum cleaners and cheap samurai swords for sale in the stalls of the flea market. There is quite literally nothing you 'need' in any of these shops. One place sells knock off perfume the next place sells homemade pickles that completely crushes the sweet smell of 'Brittanee Speers Fanta-C Night' knock-off 'Compare to Brittany Spears Fantasy Midnight' scent with its garlic pickle kosher goodness. We weren't going to get permission to eat but I was already getting hungry from the smells of the fried foods and pickles. I had always eaten healthy and lean foods but right now even cum would have been a welcome relief to the growls coming from my stomach. I didn't want to take the guys up on their offer to let us piss and shit before we left because I knew that would involve complete inspections but I probably should have answered yes when they asked if we had to go. If I texted them back now to ask they'd probably say 'no, you had your chance', which serves me right for keeping my mouth shut. We were on the hunt to find 'tricks' to fuck us in the ass and earn as much money as we could for our bills, and money permitting, to get Bill to his internet user conference. We'd probably be done with this training by then and I'd definitely go with him and try to enjoy my new freedom - that is if he wanted me there. I sure hope they want us in their lives after seeing us as such trampy whores. I wouldn't blame Bill if he didn't trust me after this. "Should we try to take pictures first, or look for customers?" I asked my partner in crime Agent Assface. "I guess if we take the pictures, it could probably drum up some business." She replied sweetly. "No fair putting your thumb over the camera lens when you take my shots." I joked with her as I spun the purse with the condoms, camera phone and Bengay in it on my wrist. She laughed and said "We could always try to find a guy to work the camera for us, to be fair." "No, they'd probably get us to move further and further back as if they are zooming out for a wide shot then run off with the camera and all the pictures." I remembered a scene from National Lampoon's European Vacation where that very thing had happened. You know it's funny, as a teenager in the 1980s watching that movie I didn't realize at the time it was so naughty. Rusty went to a titty bar and ran into his mom and dad there. That was kind of a fucked up movie – Do families have vacations like those? I guess now that we have been through all this, we would. "True, plus I trust you to be fair on the pictures." Jamie smiled. Awww, how cute and trusting can that little slut be? I had plans to crush her in this competition and she has to go and play the sweetheart card on me. Naturally, I had to play it right back and add "Oh look, Shake Weights!" in the same sweet, excited tone that she used. The box says it's a 'new and revolutionary way to energize your work out'. It looks like a dumbbell but the box explains it, 'Shake Weight® Utilizes New Workout Technology Called Dynamic Inertia, which can increase Muscle Activity to nearly 300% compared to a Standard Dumbbell.' That translates in laymen's terms roughly to 'You hold it like a giant cock and then shake it up and down like you are jacking off a horse'. I picked up one from one of the many ubiquitous 'As seen on TV' stands in the flea market. I gingerly, sniffed it and looked right at Jamie and then kissed the top. "Take a picture" I said playfully as I started to pump it up and down. I have to admit that if you do it the way they intend it really does work your muscles, but almost immediately after Jamie brought out the cell phone to snap away a few shots people started watching it bob up and down in my hand with giggles on their lips. I remember Medieval Steve saying 'You only get the jokes you are supposed to get' when he made some saucy comment about how 'hard' it was to hit us 'lovely girls' with tomatoes at his Renne fair pillory. He was talking to a family with some kids to explain why the father got his obvious penis jokes and the kids were just laughing at the obnoxious slapstick of pelting two women with semi-rotten fruit. Tomato is a fruit right? Who cares, I guess going through something like this changes your perspective on what is important and what is trivial knowledge. When it was Jamie's turn, we had actually gathered a small dedicated crowd of a couple people to watch us. It seemed like perverted old men mostly but there were a few people standing there more out of morbid curiosity. Jamie one-upped me immediately by taking two smaller Shake Weights one in each hand and began pumping them alternating one up towards her mouth as she brought the other down. She even pushed her tongue into her cheek on the opposite side of her face to simulate the shake weight if it were the head of a cock throbbing in her mouth. I had to give her credit even I was laughing at that - Clever girl. I took some pictures and when she had carried the joke on just long enough to hold people's interest she added 'Mom, how do you know when you are done? Is something supposed to squirt out?" The people passing by tried to pretend not to be watching and the ones who made no bones about watching us all laughed in unison at her raunchy question. I was on the spot to deliver a witty response in retort but all I could come up with was to examine the tip of one of the Shake Weights and flick my tongue out to lick it, "No, I don't think so. They don't have the technology." Apparently my dumb slut act was cute enough to garner a little laugh but not as much as the one Jamie got. "I sure wish we had some real ones to suck, I am getting a little hungry." I added aloud hoping one of the guys standing around might understand my not so subtle hint and introduce himself. Flea market clientele are not known for their ability to pick up on subtle entendre and I should have known we weren't going to get any bites with that approach. Jamie just gave me an 'Oh mom' look as she rolled her eyes at me. I was wishing we had Chris with us to help us initiate the transactions because he could be blunt and I didn't have to transition into a more aggressive role and try to negotiate the sale of our asses. I remembered the last time I did something like this was over a week ago at Rahjid's motel (When it was just Bill and I) and it all seemed like a blur to me now but I remember one of the parts I liked least was the awkward negotiations with strangers. I hadn't really settled into the feeling of submission I have now so it was definitely one of the parts that left me feeling most disgusted about our little mission. Jamie gave me a 'this is how it's done' glance and walked right up to the nearest man and asked him very directly "Would you like me or my mom to suck your dick?" He just smiled at her, and nodded yes but started to walk away by backing up. He had obviously become very overwhelmed by the directness of her approach. I grinned at her now deflated ego, "I guess this isn't going to be as easy as we thought." She looked confused as if she couldn't understand why a grown man would turn down an offer to get his dick sucked from a pretty teenager. I could think of a dozen reasons but the one that stuck out in my mind - he was intimidated. It's primal in their nature that men are the aggressor and the hunter. They don't want their prey stalking them and turning the tables. I tried to explain my theory to her as we walked on to look for a new target to try and past stands of Dooney Bourke purses which I assumed were knock off and t-shirts that were just as offensive as anything we had seen at the county fair. I think the shirts were probably more racist than dirty but some managed to do both with "If I had known all this would happen, I would have picked my own cotton" on the front was a picture of a black civil rights march. On the back -the picture of a pretty, young, white girl holding a black baby and the caption 'If I had known this would have happened, I'd have just sucked his dick." I had to laugh out loud because that one was clever. It was pretty racist, but it was clever. You gotta laugh at how absurd this stuff is and it's laying out in front of elderly grandmas and people's kids right there where you can see them. I think in the 1980s there was more stuff like that and in a way the Flea Market is kind of a time capsule back to that time when things were more overtly inappropriate and tacky. That could explain why we seemed to fit in and despite a reasonable amount of stares no one really did more than follow us with their eyes. "Wow, can you believe it's almost Halloween?" She looked up at some knock off costumes. There was "Batman" with a generic "B" on his chest right next to a trampy trailer park slut costume designed for a pre-teen with the word "80's girl" written right on it. I had to laugh because I think the guys had that exact costume in the 'slut box' at home where they pick our outfits. I just knew there had to be a place that sold this kind of stuff. "Yeah, and we better find some tricks, or else we won't get any treats." I laughed in response as we eyed up two handsome guys in their twenties. "Are you sure you want to do this? Really be a whore?" I whispered. "Aren't I already?" she indicated her body and the way she was dressed with her hands. "You haven't sold your ass for money though have you?" I answered back realizing how silly it was to whisper in a crowded flea market that was in full hustle-bustle mode. "I've had it tickled, tattooed, spit on, touched, stroked, licked, I think I am ready mom." She stuck her tongue out at me playfully. I took a deep breath and let out a tiny sigh. I suppose I was trying to let myself off the mental hook by hearing her say she was willing to take one more step in this direction. I don't know what I would have done if she had said she wasn't ready. That is the problem with asking questions – you might get the answer you didn't expect. I looked back at the guys. They were now my targets and I was a sopwith ace fighter pilot flying down from the clouds with the sun to my back. I swooped in and made sure the first thing they saw when they lifted their head from the dollar bins they were rummaging through was my smiling face. "Hello Guys" my daughter stepped on my foot to warn me I was supposed to say "Sir" but guys seemed so much more conversational. I smiled and pretended I didn't notice my daughter's friendly reminder as I asked if they didn't mind a little company. The guys flirted back and unlike most of the people at 'Flea World' they actually had a little game and flirted back. After a few exchanges of pleasant conversation I finally lowered the boom on why we were really talking to them. "Things are kind of expensive here, and I forgot most of these places don't take credit cards, do you think we could work out a little trade, Sir?" I felt dumb trying to negotiate and call them Sir, like I was forever in an Oliver Twist play asking for more porridge. They ignored the odd title and one of them asked skeptically "What kind of trade?" "Well, we could suck your dicks for twenty a piece, if you can be cool about it Sir?" I added, mentally summoning up all the courage I could to be so forward. I noticed Jamie was getting antsy and I assumed at the time she was just as nervous as I was. The look on their face was so priceless it was a 'jackpot' moment and they both looked us up and down hungrily drinking us in. They had been smug and confident in returning our advances but now they knew they owned the entire ballgame and the two of them were mentally slapping each other a high five I am sure of it. I was hoping Jamie would chime in but she just smiled that pretty smile of hers and shuffled nervously. "We'd probably have to suck a lot of dicks to get the money we need, so I'll tell you what, I'd like you guys ... we'll let you fuck us both in the Ass for fifty dollars a pop if we can do it in your truck or something." I laid my final cards on the table. Their eyes further widened reminding me of Millhouse when I offered to kiss him at the fair, but instead of the fear and shock it was more like the look of someone who just won the jackpot on Wheel of Fortune. "Mom, can I use the cell phone, I really need to text Chris and Dad." Jamie blurted out quickly. "Whoa, that's your daughter?" one of them asked me in joyful surprise. "Did you think we were Sisters, sweet heart?" I felt like sweet heart wasn't disrespectful and was a nice change of pace from Sir. I was reaching in my purse to hand a suddenly frantic Jamie the cell phone. JAMIE: S1r this Assface, can I plz sh1t?" CHRIS: No, you shuld hv gone when you were asked. JAMIE: Plz, Plz, Plz, Sug3r on TOP! Jamie was discovering something I had learned about getting fucked up the poop chute and that is about fifteen minutes later your bowels loosen from all that rooting around that just happened back there and you feel like you have to take a massive dump. I tried to salvage the 'date' I was setting up with our 'tricks' while my daughter tapped the text messages out to obtain permission. CHRIS: Dad sez U can go if you give 1 star, or it's a correcshun when u get home. JAMIE: Fine, correction, plx Sir!1!! She was stamping her feet when the final order came CHRIS: U can sh1t anywhere but a bathr00m, lol kk thx bai Jamie looked up at me with an expression I recognized. Bill and Chris enjoyed making us do the 'pee pee dance' and hold going to the bathroom. I understand their reasons beyond the immediate enjoyment of just watching us suffer as, desperate to piss and shit, we have to hop around in agonized anticipation of a satisfying release. I suppose on some level it is similar to the blue-balled release of teasing them and making them wait to masturbate for me when I used to be their boss. I think also they know that for a woman this is a very private experience and it really gets inside our head to have to ask permission to do something we took for granted for our entire lives. When we finally do get to release, the endorphins of pleasure are released and we associate being able to drop a deuce with the relief and pleasure and are actually thankful to them for letting us go. Jamie scurried off as she tossed the cell phone my way calling out her apologies. I glanced over the cell phone message and smiled at how sadistic my son could be - He really was very clever at times. "What was that?" one of the guys asked skeptically. "Just a message from our pimps, I could do you both or we could wait for her to come back." I smiled as I changed the subject back to closing the deal. "Come on man, I think this is a bait and switch, they get the young girl to act like she is part of it, and then she has to run off, so we are stuck with just the older one." His friend nodded and added, "Yeah man, are they trannys are what? Why no punani?" I hadn't heard the word 'punani' before, I assumed it meant pussy. I wanted to offer them a feel under my skirt if they were concerned but they were already walking away giving me a disgusted look. I don't blame them, I guess it did seem suspicious but I still took a little hit to my pride on being called the 'older one' even though that is obviously true - I didn't think I was a 'bait and switch' dog though. When I found Jamie she was behind a Korean man's stall squatting in a puddle finishing emptying her bowels. The shoppers could not see her but the Korean man and his entire family who sold blinged out cell phone cases and knock off electricians were watching and laughing. She stood up when she saw me and slipped her skirt down with apologies to the family. They were laughing at the dumb white woman and although they were speaking Korean I could definitely hear the words 'air dry' and 'slut' followed by a lot of laughter. I wanted to ask if they knew Madame Chang, the sadistic woman who ran a little shop at the county fair but I thought that might be racist to assume just because someone is Asian they know some other Asian person. That might not have been a bad question to consider. Jamie had hiked her skirt back up (without wiping, the poor girl) and as we (quickly) walked away from the laughing asian family 'You leff something behind', we bumped into a familiar face from the county fair. That was a real shocker, let me tell you! ------- Chapter 5: The Electric Slide STAR COUNT: WENDY: 43 Get out of jail cards: 1 WHORE: 1,3,0,0,0 JAMIE: 52 Get out of jail cards: 1 WHORE: 4,3,0,0,0 Note to reader: The Taylor's Story returns to the previous narrative voice. Wendy and Jamie had failed to make any money and they were already ten minutes into their hour long stroll to drum up some money for the family. Jamie had just discovered that anal sex made her bowels loose and as the two walked away from the mustard brown stain Jamie left behind in a puddle behind a flea market stall they ran into a familiar face from the county fair. "Chris would have said I just passed a bald Michael Jackson out of my ass." Jamie smirked quoting one of her brother's more memorable observations about their bathroom habits. Wendy shook her head knowingly as the two shared a laugh before noticing the quiet man standing in front of a booth full of old broke-down arcade games. It was the old man who ran the quiet arcade that they had met at the County Fair days earlier. He recognized them immediately. "You are the two who came in with the rude boy, and flashed your breasts on my chair?" Wendy remembered they had playfully flashed Bill and Chris at the very last second when Bill took a picture of them with the old man's Polaroid camera while they were seated in his novelty electric chair. Jamie had done so many things since that night she couldn't quite remember what he was talking about so she just smiled cutely and assumed she probably had. He had the Polaroid nearby and he waggled it in his finger. Instead of being thankful that they had given him a peak at their boobs and a memento to hang on to after they rode his electric chair he seemed visibly disgusted. "What is wrong with a mother and her daughter parading around and flashing their breasts? Not in my day!" Wendy remembered Chris had teased the man that his day was 'The Civil War' but Chris had a way of joking that didn't sound mean or cruel. "I am so sorry Sir, we didn't mean to offend you." Wendy graciously apologized to the old WWII Vet. "I've never seen so shameful a display." He looked over at the electric chair which was now for sale. "I am sorry, why are you selling all of your games?" Wendy tried to empathize with him which was not a reaction he expected. "They are old antiques like me. No one wants them anymore. I didn't make any money at the fair and I just want to sell this old junk before I die, so I can pay for a decent funeral." He laughed at his dark joke but it turned into a cough as he did. "Oh yeah! Your electric chair actually didn't seem to have any juice. I remember now, we kind of faked being shocked!" Jamie said out loud in sudden recognition of the old man. Wendy flashed her a glance to indicate she should watch what she said but it was too late, the old man looked defeated. "I know, I know, my chair was broken just like me. I managed to fix it up but I still didn't make any money. You girls want to try it?" "We don't have any money Sir." Wendy wasn't kidding and she knew they had less than an hour to try to get some. "I wouldn't have charged you to give that old chair one last thrill, but that's okay, you don't have time for an old man anyway." It was obvious the old man was feeling sorry for himself. He was all alone in the world obviously and very few people ever stopped to even acknowledge him. All it took was a look into Jamie's eyes to know that her daughter agreed they should go ahead and sit in the chair. "If you would like us too, we would be honored. We will even keep our tops on." Wendy smirked at him pulling her half shirt up slightly to adjust it. The old man seemed slightly pleased as he walked the two over to the dusty old novelty electric chair. It used to charge a dollar to simulate a slight electric charge between two metal stubs set into the chair arms. "It was actually built big enough so two people really could sit in it the way you two did, have a seat and I will belt you in." The girls sat down on the wooden replica of an executioners chair and giggled at each other. They weren't scared. They had to literally pretend to sizzle the last time they rode the chair and neither had any reason to expect more discomfort than the tortures inflicted on them on a regular basis by Husband and son. The old man was muttering to himself about kids these days wearing their pants pulled down so their underwear shows and the moral decay that was affecting America and the lack of consequences. He had seemed so harmless and pathetic Wendy didn't even notice the change in his demeanor until after he had finished strapping their arms and legs into the chair. That was also because she had become rather used to the idea of being bound that she didn't think much of the extra precautions the man had added to the chair when he repaired it. He finished his preparations by attaching leads to their head, thighs, and finally handcuffing them together with one wrist. ZZZzzzaaaapppp "Aaaa-yyiiii—yiiiiiiiiiiii" Wendy and Jamie let out a howl. "You like that? That is setting 8, I managed to up the voltage and make the ride far more satisfying to thrill girls like yourselves." Zzaaaaappppp the results of the second slightly longer charge was more screams and now a few of the Flea Market customers were stopping to watch the spectacle amongst the old Moon Patrol and Donkey Kong arcade game boxes. They could have easily been faking their pain and discomfort as they received the shock and the people watching had a look of curious bemusement instead of sympathy. Zzzaaaapppppp "You know, since its first use in 1890, the electric chair has been the most often used means of capital punishment. It's seemingly painless, and virtually instantaneous deaths have been considered the most humane method of killing a convicted murderer, as compared to lethal injection, the gas chamber, a firing squad or death by hanging." The old man was talking more to himself than to anyone else. The girls' legs had spread enough that the passersby had an unobstructed view of their hairless clits – each of them probably assuming they were the only ones aware of the glimpse of female flesh they were getting. Zzzzaapppppp "They say that several women have experienced orgasms, and if your own upraised nipples in those tiny shirts you wear are any indicator, your nerves are currently firing electro stimulant suggestions to your brain to release endorphins to your brain to help you endure the shock, which is why you probably want setting NINE?" The old man turned the knob and the two girls who had scant seconds between shocks spasmed and screamed helplessly, unable to release the metal leads and each other. The old man didn't acknowledge the gathering crowd of observers as he approached the girls who were panting and pleading. "Did you not enjoy it? Do you want to flash your breasts to these people?" "No Sir, please let us out." Wendy pleaded but Jamie remained silent. Someone in the small crowd actually yelled out, "THEY ARE LYING!" and there was a small amount of laughter. Jamie was locked in a silent orgasm as she rocked and bumped and writhed in the chair riding out the after effects of the shocks she had just received. She hadn't enjoyed the pain but her body had done more than just unlock endorphins – it had set-off waves of lustful alarms to lubricate her pussy and rock her world throughout her body. "I don't think you've exorcised the demons of your child's lust dear mother of a slut." The old man no longer seemed timid and weak as he brought forth a leather gag for Wendy to bite down on. He had an intensely evil stare, like the harbinger of revenge. He had evolved from kindly old man to a macabre caricature of an avenging angel with the hard face of Jack Kevorkian. "Wait a minute!" Someone else called from the audience. It was Bill. He made his way through the dozen or so bystanders to confront the old man. He approached like Wendy and Jamie's "White Knight" riding to their rescue. They were instantly relieved to see him even though his appearance had usually meant immediate discipline and humiliation. He was a welcome reprieve. The old man fumbled with the chair controller switch reverting back to his earlier diminutive 'Woe is me' persona of the harmless and lovable old man at the hint of confrontation with an angry husband and father. He released their hands and began to unbuckle them from the chair, immediately undoing the straps that bound them. "What do you think you are doing?" He sounded genuinely disturbed by what he saw. The old man started to answer an apology for getting carried away with his retribution when he noticed Bill was scolding his daughter and wife for their part in this. "I gave you two one simple thing to do and you had just one hour to do it, and instead you squat up here in this man's arcade to get your jollies, spreading your legs so everyone can have a look up your skirt?" That was not the question Wendy expected to hear. She had her fantasy that Bill was riding to her rescue dashed. She was caught speechless and was turning red with a new form of embarrassment than from the one she experienced flashing her nudity. She had grown strangely more comfortable with the flashing, but Bill talking to her like a disobedient child in public was a fresh cut on an old wound and she could see Jamie was having the same reaction. The crowd was starting to disperse now that Bill was sobering them up with his angry litany. "Chris said we should trust you for an hour and see what you do, but I am glad I followed you for a little while. Can this thing go any higher?" "Why yes it can, to ten, but I wasn't really going to use it." The old man sounded sweet and innocent once again – no longer possessed with the rage that had momentarily overcome him. "Can I move these diodes from their head? That isn't where they do their thinking." Bill asked sternly. "Sure, you can." The old man was going to caution him about safety but he was still concerned that Bill was angry with him and let Bill take charge of the situation. "Lift up your shirt, cow tits. I am sure this crowd has already seen them anyway." The ears perked up on four or five people who had been hanging around, unable to make themselves stop observing the train-wreck of a family argument. They heard Bill give the order and watched as Wendy lifted her shirt with her thumbs and forefinger obediently. Her chest was as tan as the rest of her body and her breasts, shaped like perfect hemispheres, stood at attention. Bill attached the diodes to the silver hoop in her nipples and all around the engorged and puffy upraised areola. The old man wanted to caution him to spread it out more but remained silent. Bill had scared off several of the crowd members when he angrily walked up to the electric chair, but Wendy holding her shirt up while he placed the wire leads was making several new comers stop in their tracks to watch. "What are you doing Ass Face? Laughing at your mom's situation? Don't laugh too hard, you are next! Lift it up!" Jamie raised her half-shirt top the way her mom was holding hers while he finished placing her mom's diodes, giving both her nipples a hard tweak and pinch while he did. The crowd was giggling nervously and chattering to themselves, "Can you believe this shit?" and "Holy shit, will you look at the tits on the daughter?" was being murmured by the gathering crowd of twelve or fifteen mostly male customers. There were also a few women in the crowd and the look of scorn was etched in their normally sweet country girl faces. Bill finished with Wendy in under a minute and began repeating the process of transferring the diodes from forehead to tits on his daughter. Wendy didn't dare bring down her shirt and now Bill reversed his earlier position "You want to show the crowd your tits still?" "No Sir, it's just that..." Wendy tried to explain he had just made Jamie raise her shirt in solidarity with her mother so she wasn't alone and she assumed since she hadn't been told to drop the shirt she should stay that way. A very convincing and logical argument could have been made for that position. Bill had come a long way in the past weeks as a trainer, teacher, owner, and leader. He had blustered his way to the front of this situation and taken charge of it. However, he was still far from perfect and right now he was reversing his position, "If you want to show your tits, then fine" and he pulled her shirt over her head, leaving her chest fully exposed and the top around her neck. "Sir, would you be kind enough to buckle them back in and take extra care with my wife's knees, it seems she likes them as far apart as you can manage." Bill spoke respectfully and calmly to the old man who dutifully obliged. He buckled one of Wendy's legs to the far side of the chair on Jamie's side and did likewise for her daughter so that both of them were seated in an overly exaggerated, exposed position. "Can you adjust the diodes on my wife's thighs? I don't think they are high enough?" Bill said as he finished with his daughter's medium sized melons. Bill was already moving the diodes on her thighs to her fleshy and more tender parts closest to her bare, hairless pussy and making no secret about it to the stunned crowd. "Yes, if you think I should." The old man answered kindly in a submissive way. The man's clumsy leather-worn hands pulled the leads from Wendy's thighs as if he were pulling them for a wall of dried paint. He took absolutely no sympathy on the woman who was getting what he considered to be a much needed retribution for her wanton ways, from a concerned husband. Bill was smiling at Jamie and even winked at her as he finished placing the last of the diodes. He was enjoying playing the hard-ass and he turned to the crowd who had grown to over twenty people. "It's too bad he doesn't have anything that can go up their asses, that'd give them a little shock-a-rooni wouldn't it?" There was laughter at his obvious candor and change of demeanor. "Sir, um ... I can't restrain your daughter's hands while she holds her shirt up. Bill had forgotten he had ordered Jamie to keep thumb and finger on either side of the skimpy material that constituted a shirt for her. "Well, let's take it off." Bill was playing to the crowd now as he yanked the shirt over his daughter's head and completely off. He had underestimated his own strength as he 'yoinked' the shirt completely off her shoulders. He tossed it into the crowd, 'Who wants a shirt only a slut would wear?" It was caught by a young man who quickly gave it to his blushing grandmother. Bill turned back to the girls like a Maestro about to conduct an orchestra, "You may fire when ready, Grizzley" "It's Gridley" the old man took on his hardened aspect once more as he corrected Bill while discharging the highest setting his old wooden electric chair could handle. "I've never tested this on people." He said to Bill but his tone was so quiet and Wendy and Jamie's "Auahauahahahaha" and undulating spasms were so loud, Bill could not hear him. Bill simply nodded his head dismissively. ZZasssaaapssaapppp The girls were wiggling, now bare chested and with legs spread wide by strapped buckles to expose their clit rings and diode wires. Jamie could feel her pussy lips actually suck in air and release it as the crisp pain of the electricity ran through her body even more intensely than before. "I don't want to fry them. That might be too much." The old man was once again lacking the confidence and vitriol that spurred him to his earlier sadistic behavior. "Was it too much?" Bill asked the crowd. He was hoping for a unified "Hell no" but he got a mixed reaction of grumbles that may have been yes and no. Then a familiar voice in the crowd itself answered back "Was it too much when the Japanese Bombed Pearl Harbor? Hello No!!" There was a cheer from the crowd in response to Chris's call for another shock to his sister and mom. Zzzassasssapppppppppp Jamie and Wendy couldn't have faked a more intensely agonizing and painful electrocution torture if they had been coached by the greatest acting coaches in the world. Their eyes were closed, their mouths were open, their noses flared and their bodies were alive with the crackle of the man's 'novelty' chair which was now on steroids from his modifications. Spit dribbled down Wendy's chin and on to her chest as she slumped forward, limp from the last shock she received. "Look, the blonde one is getting her rocks off." Chris riled up the crowd to laughter as he pointed from within the throng of about thirty people now watching the two half naked women gyrate wildly. Jamie was having an uncontrollable orgasm like she had when she first got her body piercings. She wanted desperately to suck her thumb but she could not move her arms so she mewed like a kitten and struggled in a desperate attempt to channel her body's throes of passion with the limited mobility available to her. The crowd might have felt bad for them if not for Chris's laughter at the way their titties bounced. "Throw the switch again." He shouted in a corny southern accent which was echoed by several others. ZZssassasssppaappaapppp now with tits bouncing and all modesty gone, Wendy could not hold her bladder and a trickle of urine streamed down her leg as she flailed within her bonds, turning her head from left to right in anguish. "Look out boys, she's a squirter!" Chris's laughter made an otherwise gross and involuntary bodily function seem hilarious. The electricity had been causing the girls' muscles to spasm uncontrollably so that they were now winking, nodding and flexing in the most comical of ways. Jamie was the first to spurt a little milk around the diodes on her breast and Wendy followed suit as their tits received their final jolt. The milk was dripping down their chest along with the spit, sweat, snot and tears. The fastidious Flea Market operator appeared with clip board in hand from within the crowd to shush the crowd and waggle his finger once again at Jamie and Wendy. Just as he had when he caught them sucking cocks in the bathroom and performing for an audience back at their merchandise stand. He shut the show down and dispersed the crowd. They grumbled but very few stayed to watch any more of this far out escapade. He spoke in a very effeminate voice, "Um, please keep your shirts on if you are going to remain at Flea World, thank you." He stood and waited for the electrodes to be removed and the tops to be put back on. Bill reached up and popped the ones off of Jamie's chest but noted "Actually, I think the little tramp threw her shirt out into the crowd." Jamie might have pouted at the lie her father just told since he was the one who threw the shirt but she was still coming down from the intense orgasms brought on from the shock therapy she just received. "Well then I hate to do this, but you'll have to leave Flea World." He looked disappointed but spoke as if he were late for a meeting. He was a man who felt out of place among the rednecks of Flea world and tried to keep order while managing very efficiently. He was willing to overlook what he considered the 'luddite behavior of yokels' as long as they abided a few of his rules and one of them was no topless women. The old man was quietly unbuckling the women to remove them from his electric chair. He was trying to avoid the ire of the flea market manager and remain low profile and was largely succeeding in his effort to remain unnoticed. The only one who noticed him was a fifty-something woman who had watched the entire spectacle. She was standing next to him patiently waiting to find out how much he would charge for a private 'ride on the machine'. "Can she stay if she can find a top?" Bill asked the man as plainly as if asking if he could park in a loading zone for five minutes. Jamie was standing in front of him, guarding her bare chest with her hands – tears and snot streaming down her face from the intensity of the experience she had just endured. She looked largely pathetic and the fastidious manager had other fires to put out - he left without saying another word. "Why aren't you trying to sell our stuff?" Bill asked his son skeptically. "Some thanks for helping out with the electric show?" Chris offered playfully in response before explaining, "You know that weird old man who spanked Jamie? Buddy $ales? He bought all of it!" "Cool, we can get out of this shit-hole!" Bill was glad he didn't have to spend money to buy his daughter another top now that they had accomplished what they came for. "Don't you want to let us finish out the hour?" Wendy sputtered through the snot and dribble on her face. The electricity had opened up all the nasal passages in her face and had made her look ridiculous. Bill didn't get a chance to answer his wife. He wasn't sure if he was more proud of her for the tenacity and fortitude to stick with this after she had endured so much or he was angry at her for allowing herself to end up on the chair on the first place. He had just punished her thoroughly for that infraction so he was leaning towards respecting her courage to soldier on. "Actually we can't, as part of the deal you have to load the stuff into his warehouse and then report to him at 3pm." Chris explained how he had sold all their family knick-knacks to Buddy on the condition they load them in his warehouse and serve him for an hour after the flea market closes." "How much did you get for all our crap?" Bill asked skeptically. "Five hundred, including Mom and Jamie." "So ... four hundred eighty for our crap and twenty for them?" Bill and Chris laughed and performed a fist-bump at the joke. "Bros before ho's" "You know it ... Damn mom, you are walking awful bowl legged after that one." Wendy didn't have her wits back from the shock she had just received. She could only sputter in agreement "Yes Sir". "I'll get Ass Face a top if you'll get your mom started loading this guy's warehouse. It is here at the Flea Market?" "Yeah, apparently this guy is a big time hob-nobber at the Flea Market" "When you have a dollar sign to replace the S in your name you better be, Son!" He winked at his son as the two parted ways with their respective partner. Bill had to walk only a few paces to find a store that sold T-shirts of all kinds. Most of them were the type that featured Hank Williams Junior saying "Obama = Hitler" across a rebel flag with the phrase "Don't kick a cow patty on a hot day" underneath it. Jamie clutched her chest, following along behind him. As completely stunned as she felt, she would have dropped her hands if she had been ordered as it really didn't matter considering it felt like everyone was peeling back her hands with their eyes anyway. The Korean woman who tended the t-shirt stand reminded Bill of Madam Chang, "You look like you daughter need T-shirt, I make you good deal, three for five!" her speech was clipped and heavily accented. "I just need one, what is the smallest ones you got?" Bill looked around noticing a smirking teenage boy in the corner with a laptop. He assumed he was her son. Bill wondered if the boy was always smirking like he had some inside joke that no one else knew or if it was because his daughter was parading around the store half-naked. She showed him some baby sized shirts and 'Daddy's little girl' made him smile, "Well she is definitely drooling but I meant something a little bigger." Bill mused. "You want shirt, you say small, you got girl - titty hanging out, you make up mind!" the woman impatiently complained about Jamie's obvious lack of shirt. Bill could only laugh at the storekeeper's sharp response because it seemed adorable to him somehow. He noticed a full length t-shirt hanging up on the wall and pointed "Can I have that one?" "You want the one I have to bring down by hook? You buy if I bring down?" "Yes, absolutely. How much is it?" "Ten dollah!" she was already reaching for the hook. "You said three for five earlier?" Bill found the woman's challenging tone funny and not offensive even though it might have been considered brash for other customers. His daughter shivered noticing three boys watching her stand behind her father, topless save for her hands shielding her breasts. "That earlier, when you not ask for T-shirt on hook!" A familiar song began to play in the background. It was the bouncy tune "Bubble Pop" that Jamie had been taught to suck dick in cadence with only days earlier. The song was of Korean origin and the store keeper's young son was playing it from a laptop nearby. "Dat Video drive me crazy! The girl dance like um chang sae kki!" (Ooh Boy) neoege nal matchujin ma (Hey Boy) naege deo baraji ma (My Boy) geopumcheoreom geojit mameul Bubble Bubble Bubble Pop! Bubble Bubble Pop! Pop! The tune was catchy even if Bill couldn't understand the words. He got the gist that the female singer was being as sexy as possible while also trying to be cute and sell the bubble gum pop to a Korean audience. "Nu choogle lea?" She spoke Korean to him rapidly. The boy closed the laptop when his mother scolded him. "See why can't you be more obedient like him?" Bill laughed at his daughter while watching the mother discipline her son for listening to a song she must consider annoying. Bill wasn't sure what an 'um chang sae kki' was but he was willing to venture a guess, "I have seen it, you mean like this?" he pinched his daughter who had only seen the dance once before. Even though there was no music, Jamie gyrated her hips as if she had an invisible hula-hoop around her waist and the woman storekeeper and son laughed at how accurate it was. "Okay, you funny, I make deal for you, eight dollah on shirt." Bill held it up to his daughter's form. It covered more of her thigh than the skirt which disappointed him. The fact it had two milk jugs with the words "MILK MILK" over the breasts, a lemonade pitcher where the crotch would be And a fudge bar with the words "Fudge" over the butt made up for it. "Chris will love this, what do you think?" "Milk, Milk, Lemonade, Around the corner Fudge is made" Jamie did a cutsie dance as she sang along while holding her breasts reciting the naughty nursery rhyme she remembered from her youth. She had recovered from her foggy stumblings and was doing her best to accommodate her father's need to humiliate her. "Can she put this on here?" Bill peeled off eight one dollar bills to pay for it. "You think we got dressing room at Flea Market?" the woman only laughed at how naïve he must be to think there was any other option. "Fine, hand me your skirt and put this on, Ass Face. You probably left skid marks all in it when you took a dump in that puddle. Didn't think I was watching did you?" He tossed his daughter the shirt and now she had little choice but to catch it and remove her hands from the bare breasts she was covering. "No Sir, but I did get permission to shit and was told not to use a bathroom." Jamie pouted in embarrassment. The Korean boy sitting at the laptop covered his mouth as he giggled "chang nyeon!" The woman answered her son with a nod as they watched her remove the skirt first and hand it to her father nicely before pulling the long shirt over her completely naked frame. "You enjoy strip in front my son?" she sounded rightfully angry but then that was the tone she had taken throughout most of the conversation. "No ma'am, I am sorry, I um threw my shirt to the crowd." She accepted responsibility for what her father said she had done in the hopes of earning some brownie points (or letters) with him, "and I cannot wear the skirt under my shirt. I am thankful for it though, I haven't worn anything with this much material in a long time." "Yeah, I was afraid she wouldn't learn a lesson about humility if she was permitted to wear something that covers her so well. I've been teaching her not to put on fancy airs and try to impress. By keeping her and her mother in plain, simple clothes people don't see them as equals and treat them better than they deserve." "You almost as strict as Korean Tiger Mom." Bill assumed that was a compliment she had just delivered to him by the tone of her voice. "Yeah, I used to let her walk all over me, but now that I started cracking the whip around the house, you've been a good little slut haven't you?" Bill asked his daughter condescendingly. "Yes Sir, I was a self-centered, arrogant bitch but now I am a good little slut who knows her place." Jamie answered as if giving an affirmation response. "You very good girl you know, not like most American girl. You almost like Korean girl." The storekeeper paid Jamie what she assumed must be a complement. "Thank you Ma'am, I am learning something new every day. I am undeserving of compliments and kindness, but I respect and accept your judgment of me." Jamie answered as if it were part of an affirmation to do so and in a way it was. "Why it say whore on you ass?" the shopkeeper asked in as brusque and matter-of-fact manner as everything else she said. She had seen Jamie's tattoo when she removed her skirt to hand to her father. Her son was giggling quietly to himself at the question while pretending to be interested in the laptop. "I am a good little whore for my father and brother, Ma'am." Jamie was surprised the woman had managed to pick up on it since she had only been naked for a few seconds and she didn't seem to have a perfect grasp of English. The shopkeeper seemed to be waiting for further explanation so Jamie nervously offered "My mom and I got tattooed at the county fair together to demonstrate our obedience and commitment to our station in life." Jamie couldn't read the woman's expression and frankly she had no idea if she was twenty, forty or sixty years old because her Asian complexion was so difficult to gauge. There was a short pause before the woman added "You want good tattoo, you go up three booth turn right, talk to Dragon Tattoo, my cousin, you tell him I send, and you get the good deal." "Well actually we are trying to save as much money as we can, and I think we probably have enough tattoos." Bill answered with a chuckle. "You get piercing, I see she has boob piercing, what else you have?" the tenacious sales woman made no apologies for prying into the teenager's personal business and asking a question if it might make another sale. "I have two rings in my nipples and one through my clit, Ma'am" Jamie subconsciously said 'clit' with a low sexy growl that sounded like she was very proud of it. "You sound proud of it. Show the woman where lemonade is made." Bill ordered his daughter with the smile still on his face. Jamie lifted her shirt up in the front to expose her bare, sore pussy and flipped up the hood that was forced outside of her clit. "You look like you have inny, it is now an outie." The short little woman joked. "You mind my son come see?" she asked Bill instead of Jamie as if instinctively realizing it wasn't Jamie's decision. "She doesn't mind showing anyone her fat little pussy, do you Ass Face?" "No Sir" she turned and after the shopkeeper barked out something in Korean that equates to, "Come see this dumb white girl show you her pussy." The smiling boy who was probably a year or two younger than her, got out of his chair and approached. Jamie was shielded from the vision of most flea market patrons due to the wall of t-shirt carousels in the booth. To most people walking by, she probably appeared to be a normal teenager (which for the flea market is slutty) just trying on a t-shirt. "Poji!" he exclaimed and pointed like a school-boy who had just seen someone's 'privates' for the first time. The fact he seemed so immature about it only made Jamie blush more. "You want her to turn around and show you where fudge is made?" Bill offered playfully. Jamie started to turn around and lift the back of her shirt and he reached out a hand to pop her hard on the ass. "Were you told to turn around?" "No sir, I am sorry. I didn't listen." Jamie apologized for getting ahead of herself. "Okay, turn around and show them your big ass, hold it apart so they can see the O." Jamie, shame-ridden and humbled, turned slowly to face her back to the others and hitched her shirt tail up around the small of her back. She clutched her ass-cheeks and pulled them apart. Bill made a quick 'fszzzzzzzzzzzzt' whistle in time with the parting of the ass cheeks to simulate a well-timed fart and make the Korean mother and her son giggle. "She not still have inny in the back, but it looks like she working on making it an outie." The shopkeeper observed "Why you no get the rear pierced like the front?" "That is an idea, but we have been hurting for money. If she hadn't thrown her shirt away carelessly, we probably wouldn't have bought that." Bill had about convinced himself that it really did happen that Jamie threw the shirt into the crowd after he had repeated the story for the third time. "What does it say on her stomach?" the young Asian boy asked in slightly better English than his mother. "Turn around and show him, slut." Bill was in good spirits and these people seemed twisted enough that nothing shocked them so he was having fun with his daughter's discomfort around them. Jamie lifted the shirt higher than before to reveal not only her freshly baked and reddened pussy but the words her mother had written on her earlier that morning 'Pussy broke, use rear entrance'. Jamie said it out loud assuming he may not be able to read it. Hearing herself say it out loud only added to her waking nightmare. "Yes, I know how to read." The boy seemed slightly insulted. "I am sorry Sir, I just thought I may have sweated some and it got smeared." Jamie politely countered. "You daughter pussy broke?" The Korean shopkeeper was intrigued and curious what that actually meant. "Yes, but she has two other holes for rent." Bill kidded with her. "How much?" the shopkeeper wasted no time replying. "Twenty for a BJ, Fifty to fuck in the ass." There was a small stream of what Bill could only assume was Korean cuss words as the woman reacted to what she must have felt was too high a price. "I want son to learn to handle white woman, only other whore who work flea market is old and has no teeth!" she gummed her own teeth to simulate a woman without her false teeth. "You have her do, and I get you good deal on a new piercing to make you happy and bring you much luck, okay?" "Well, how about he does one for free and we make it an even trade?" Jamie looked at her father and wondered what he had in mind for her before looking back at the thin boy she was about to screw and trying to look confident. She offered him the winning smile that only she thought looked goofy and he was sold. There was a short angry sounding exchange between parent and son and she finally said, "You have hard bargain, son will get lesson in girl anatomy, she teach?" the woman offered them to come into a backroom that could have easily worked as a dressing room earlier when Jamie was changing. "Sure, Jamie give him head and let him fuck you in the ass, go slow with him and explain everything. You know what to do right?" "Yes Sir" "Good Girl" Bill, without thinking, kissed her on the lips and she opened her mouth to slip him some tongue. He hadn't French kissed his daughter before. He actually felt a tinge of guilt for a moment until it dawned on him he had fucked her in the ass only an hour earlier. He leaned into the kiss and darted his tongue in and out between her teeth. "May I have a wet paper towel to clean off my chest and ass, Sir?" "Did you kiss me just so you can get a clean towel?" Bill asked skeptically with a hint of humor trailing off in his question. "No Sir, I am really sticky though." "He no care" the shopkeeper reached her hand under Jamie's shirt and rubbed her wet pussy to give it a sniff. "Smell like sushi, he like." The mom drew the curtain and left the two 'love birds' at it. "What is your name Sir?" "Chao" he answered nervously sitting on a wooden bench. Jamie moved closer to him and kneeled in front of him unbuckling his belt. "Chao, your mom wants me to show you how a blowjob works and to let you fuck me in my ass, have you ever done that?" Jamie tried not to sound like an optimistic study-hard who was helping someone with trigonometry homework but it had just come out that way. He was intimidated by the western teenager and she knew he was squirming. She liked the power she had over him even though it was him who was supposed to be calling all the shots. It was intoxicating to her to be so wanted and she could have probably told him to do anything and he would have. She simply asked him to help her slide his pants off. She left his socks and shirt on but stripped him of everything else as seductively as she could. Jamie pulled the shirt off over her head and saw Chao looking at her with a goofy glazed look in his eyes. "You like what you see Sir?" "Yes, I like it." Chao coughed into his hand quietly. "Would you like to touch me and play with me?" she stood in front of him. He reached out and caressed her left breast, softly stroking it. Jamie took the initiative to take his hand and lead him to her clit. His hands were soft and his touch very gentle. He was in awe of her and she knew he was putty to her. She was trying to be the best whore she could be and she remembered what her mother said about first times. This was going to be his first intimacy of any kind and she wanted it to be 'special'. As 'special' as it could be after a mother paid a strange girl to let her son finger her in a backroom closet. "You can be more rough if you like." She smiled and wondered if she preferred he'd be a little more domineering. She could relate to her mother wanting Chris to come along and pimp them, because being the aggressor in this situation just felt wrong to her. He twisted the nub of her clit once but then went back to softly stroking her like a gentle lover and Jamie didn't ask him again to get rough. He was sitting as she bent over him and he moved in close to her pussy to give it a tender lick and a kiss. "I am supposed to be sucking YOUR dick." She whispered playfully. "I want to kiss you down there." He was clearly more of a giving lover than a taker and Jamie wasn't going to argue. She straddled him so that he could have an unobstructed view of her clit. He began to lick and nibble without using his teeth pressing his tongue into the folds of her wet clit. "Turn around, I want to do the back." He whispered softly to her. "Sir, I haven't had a chance to towel off and I am sweaty back there." She didn't want to say that she had taken a shit outside thirty minutes earlier. She knew she was supposed to stop using euphemisms and say what she really did as part of her training and he probably deserved to know but in the moment she didn't feel like being unsexy. She turned around and bent over to spread her ass cheeks for him. "Oh yes, I like to see the poop hole." Jamie was facing down and looking at his stocking feet while he breathed in her entire backside. He seemed thoroughly impressed with her perfect ass and he began kissing and licking it timidly at first. Chao breathed down her ass crack and eventually had his nose pressed into her asshole while he drove his tongue into her clit. Jamie started to convulse "oh, oh, oh" she couldn't believe she was making the noises like a porn actress but it felt so right to her that she did it. He didn't seem to mind and didn't think it was cliché or weird as he rimmed out her asshole. He brought one hand under her boob and started to caress it. He started to bring her off again and Jamie felt herself clutching her ass cheeks as she pulled them apart as wide as they could go for him. He was masterful with his tongue darting it in and out like a playful fish poking through the water and back into its lake. She was panting and felt no shame at all about the boy behind her eating her ass. She would never have imagined anyone would enjoy tasting her backdoor. Chris often reminded her that pretty girl farts smell just as nasty as ugly girl farts. Jamie heaved and gasped as he brought her to three major orgasms and several tiny ones with his tongue alternating between her ass and pussy. His face was now wet with her musky juices and he seemed to only grow in confidence as he continued. Chao gasped 'No ... no ... no!" as if he were angry about something and Jamie looked over her shoulder just as he finished spurting cum on to his own lap. He seemed disappointed and he slapped her ass but in the most gentle way possible to indicate he had finished. "Oh I am so sorry." "Don't be sorry Chao, did you enjoy it?" Jamie asked him sweetly. "Yes, very much, I would like to do it again." His English was much better than his mother's broken and accented speech. "May I lick the cum off your dick please?" "No, I'd rather you not." He was starting to feel embarrassed and he began to reach for his pants to pull them up. "Please Sir, I was supposed to suck your cock and let you fuck me in the ass. My father might actually punish me if he finds out I didn't do either." She flashed him her baby blues. She wasn't sure if her father would punish her but Chao had been so nice and sweet to her that she felt obliged to give him something in return for what he had given her - It felt like good karma to offer. She turned around to face him and began to clean his flaccid dick with her mouth. He was uncircumcised but it wasn't the first time she had seen a cock with a sheath and it didn't bother her. She used just her mouth to lick his cock clean. He giggled at first and then pushed her head away as he burst into laughter "ticklish!" he warned "Please Sir?" she pouted and realized she wanted the cum in her mouth more than he did and being a naughty cum slut made her feel both twisted and adventurous at the same time. Jamie knew she would have to spend some time wondering if she had begged to lick up his cum to be a dutiful slut as a 'good sport' or she really wanted to have to do it - The way she felt at the moment was the latter. Jamie slurped Chao's dick and let it drop a few times every time he got squeamish about how sensitive he was when she wrapped her lips around his soft, shriveled dick to lick every drop from the folds within his sheath. "You come out soon, You father want go!" the mother warned from behind the cloth curtain in the store that they needed to wrap things up. As she did Jamie turned her head slightly with the cock still in her mouth and Chao shot again. At first she thought he was cumming a second time but it became readily apparent from the warm steady stream that he was pissing into her mouth. Jamie did her best to contain his spray and gulp it down but she had never had anyone piss on her or in her mouth and she wasn't ready for the disgusting feeling of having the yellow stream delivered down her throat. He shot some into her eye and hair as she swallowed and gasped for air before she instinctively took it back in her mouth and let him finish spraying down her throat. Jamie had drank some piss before, but it had been her mother's inside of bottled water on dares and punishment or the cakey residue on dicks. This was entirely different and when he finished he apologized profusely but she just said, "It's okay Sir, that was fine." gave him a sweet smile that made him feel even more guilty for soiling this pretty, blonde American girl with his urine. "So now I am a piss drinker, just like I am a cum drinker, there is a first for everything." She smacked her lips wondering how she could be so unshocked by what just happened in her mouth. "Tastes like sour-apple kind of." she thought aloud of the after taste. She wiped his lap down with her shirt before wiping her own face, chest and ass with it. Jamie began to wonder (and possibly accept) if two weeks of discipline as a whore had been slowly chipping away the moral taboos that she had grown up with or if drinking piss really wasn't as earth-shatteringly a big deal as she would have thought. It was gross but not much worse than the stale water or cum she had been drinking all week. Had this been the goal of her Dad and Chris all along ... to slowly introduce her into a world of debauchery and have her rationalize it? Jamie was lost in thought. "You've got to wear that shirt?" Chao brought Jamie back into reality by asking her a question about the perverted long shirt that was all she was permitted to wear at Flea World from now on. "Yes, I do. My father wouldn't want it any other way, Chao ... I mean Sir." Jamie had meant it to sound sweet and endearing but Chao, having no idea why this girl was the way she was, assumed she was simply a dutiful daughter with a strong willed father. He smiled sweetly at her because he could relate to what he thought was her situation as he buckled his pants and waited for her to pull her shirt back over her head to lead her back out into his mother's stall. "You fuck her in ass?" she was waiting to challenge him as soon as he stepped out. "Yes Mama" "You lie to me, Chao?" she asked skeptically of her normally timid boy. "One way to find out ... turn around and lift your shirt and show his momma what she paid for." Bill interrupted. His daughter did exactly as she was instructed lifting her 'fudge' over her back without concern for who might be in the store. Chao had gained some confidence now that he had his first sexual experience and she felt strangely more confident from the humiliating experience as well. Her asshole had been teased and was wet and puffy from Choa's ministrations to it which satisfied his mom. "Okay you put away now, you bring flies!" she waved her hand in her face as if swatting some away in what was for her a funny joke. Jamie executed a perfect curtsy as she had often practiced by dipping her head submissively, raising her shirt slightly and bending at the knee. "Thank you Ma'am for allowing me to get buttfucked by your son, and suck his dick. I enjoyed licking all of his cum and..." Jamie thought for a moment about mentioning that he pissed in her mouth and decided against it. She felt guilty like she was being dishonest through omission but she added "And I hope you will allow me or my mother to do it again some time." "She is very um chang sae kki" "Thank you Ma'am." Jamie didn't know what that meant but she assumed it was a compliment of some kind from a grateful mother for helping her son get over his shyness around girls. She winked at Chao and took her father's hand gleefully. "Okay cum dump, good job." Bill offered her what he considered a compliment once they were out of earshot of the t-shirt stand. "You did real good." Jamie could hear genuine praise in her father's voice and she swung his hand back and forth in hers as they walked through the Flea Market midway to Dragon Tattoo. "Your mom can load all our old shit at that guy's warehouse." He held up a note written by the shopkeeper in Korean he had received in trade for his daughter's work. Jamie just smiled at him and ignored the stares and leers she was getting for wearing just the t-shirt, dog collar and heels as she reflected on the experiences she had endured. "That was fun, Sir." She admitted after a short distance. "Fun? Well holy shit." Bill stopped in his tracks. ------- Chapter 6: Jamie's Journal - Stop Dragon Your Ass Around STAR COUNT: WENDY: 49 Get out of jail cards: 1 WHORE: 1,3,0,0,0 JAMIE: 59 Get out of jail cards: 1 WHORE: 4,3,0,0,0 *Note to reader: This is Jamie's journal from Sunday afternoon detailing the events of approximately noon when she is at the Flea Market. In order to increase readability, some of the dialogue exchanged was altered to appear in a 'narrative' story format. Oh my God, why did I have to say that was fun? What the hell is wrong with me? - I lied to my dad by omission for not telling him I didn't get fucked in the ass and for not mentioning that sweet Asian boy peed in my mouth by accident (I hope by accident?). -I just admitted out loud that I got off on this treatment and that I just enjoyed being rented out to a stranger and I think I meant it. I am so very, very confused. There were a lot of things very pleasurable about my encounter with Chao – he was gentle, giving and he seemed to want me to get off more than I wanted him too. His pleasure came from the intimacy of staring into my eyes and from the weirdly perverted desire to drive his tongue into my butthole (lol). That was definitely the strangest sexual encounter I've had since I started having sexual encounters. Why did I have to say 'fun' out loud to my dad? When mom and I first started accepting their payback plan one of my theories was to pretend to enjoy everything they did to me and made me do to take all the fun out of it. My theory was they would soon tire of it and my reverse psychology would actually save us having to endure earning a hundred stars, if we just suck it up and pretend to love what we had to do to earn the first ten stars or so. They would get bored and disappointed they weren't affecting us. My mom cautioned me that it could backfire and they could take that to mean they should just ratchet things up harder. My father has spent the last five minutes asking me what I meant by "That was fun" and I don't know what to tell him. I don't even understand why I said that myself. I am a good girl and a big part of me would love to tuck tail and run as far away from all of this stuff as I can and a part of me actually enjoyed it. Truth be told, if my pussy wasn't still totally numb from the electrocution we got a half an hour ago, I'd have to admit, aside from probably frying important brain cells and nerve endings, I did actually orgasm several times on that electric chair. Isn't that darkly disturbing? I feel like Wednesday Addams, that my value system is completely backwards. A normal person shouldn't like sitting in electric chairs. Then again they never would have made the novelty chair and put it in arcades if someone didn't get a thrill out of it - could it be that part of the thrill and danger was sexual for some people? "Just explain it to me so I can understand. What part of it was fun to you?" my Dad asked one more time as he paraded me through the flea market. We had gotten lost somewhere in the maze of bedazzled denim jackets and car stereos for sale and he was too proud to ask for directions. "I don't know Sir. I was just caught up in the moment. I know I shouldn't take pleasure in my submission. I am supposed to learn to please others without reciprocation for my own lustful needs." "So you admit it satisfied a lustful need?" Dad just wouldn't let it go. "Yes Sir, Chao was very gentle and it was intimate." "I've never heard of someone fucking a girl in the ass gently." My dad was on to my lies. I can't stand being dishonest but I had already been deceptive. "Okay, please don't punish me Sir if I tell you something?" I begged. "No promises, but tell it." Dad knew I was going to burst at the seams if I didn't purge my conscience anyway. "Yes Sir" I sighed, "Chao didn't want to fuck me in the ass, I didn't want to get him in trouble." I lied again. That wasn't the only reason. This is one of the reasons I hate being a girl, I think it's natural for me to want to lie but once I tell one I can't stop myself. I think if I were a boy it'd be so much more simple and black and white. We color things and obfuscate facts in order not to reveal what we are really thinking. Is it part of our genetics and hormones or something we learn because all our female role models do too? We do it with each other and especially when dealing with men. I don't know why we bother because they don't understand our subtext and take us at face value which causes a lot of misunderstandings. I guess that is what makes the world go around – The differences between men and women. If we thought exactly a like, where would the challenge be in that? "This is what happens when I let you out of the rules. I don't have the Ben Gay with me because your dumbass mother didn't leave me with any, and I didn't make you squat in front of them and squirt out the cum because I thought they may not approve of that in their store." My father wasn't going to let me spend too much time on introspective thought as he rooted me back in the mud of my existence with the cold hard facts on his mind. I have often wondered if dad has a bad memory or purposely forgets things. He could have easily asked for the Bengay before Chris and my mom left but he seemed to want to blame them for it. Then again that could be my mom in me always analyzing the short comings in others before looking to my own self for imperfections. I can be hard on myself for the physical ones but the mental I think maybe I have a lot more to learn before the end of my training. Chao's mother had only minutes before traded services for sex and inspected my pussy and asshole in her t-shirt store with people walking past. I think somehow my dad was underestimating how receptive the Tiger Mom might be to something as deeply twisted as my having to spurt the evidence of Chao's manhood back out for everyone to watch. I didn't tell him that I thought she would have been delighted to watch me squat and drain my asshole because I thought my father would think I was insulting her – so I just kept that observation (and several others) to myself. There I go obfuscating again!  She was definitely a Tiger Mom. I used to know a girl named Sun-Lee on the squad who had to quit because she got a B-. She joked at the time "That is an Asian!" I know Asian parents can be strict but they also seem to want to plan their kids' lives out and ensure they have certain experiences even after they reach adulthood. I quietly wondered if 'Tiger Parents' would approve of my father's discipline for me and the lessons I was learning. "I asked you a fucking question?" My dad smacked my butt to jostle me out of my thoughts. "I am sorry Sir" I was stalling to debate telling yet another lie or admitting I needed him to repeat the question. "I am so confused Dad, things have been so upside down, and I don't know why I've been saying and doing all of the things I've been doing lately." He could have punished me for using 'Dad' instead of Sir, at least tweaked my nipples, but he just held me. He held me for a long time in the stream of customers who ignored us standing in the middle of a busy row of flea market stalls. "Just tell me the truth and then I'll decide if you need a punishment, okay hon?" He said patiently after I calmed down. I thanked him and admitted, "I offered him my Ass Sir, but he wanted to just lick it. I was afraid he would get in trouble but also that I would. He came before I could suck his dick, but I did lick up all of his cum. He was very ticklish and in the process of licking his dick he pissed all over me and in my mouth." My dad considered me for a few moments looking into my eyes and then asked if I had enjoyed it. "Yes Sir, a part of me, a very naughty and dirty part of me got off on it." I told the truth and it felt good to admit it. I knew a person walking by heard me and laughed with her friend but at least I had gotten that of my chest. "So if you were me, what would you do now that you know that?" My Dad was sounding very patient and I have to admit his question made me pause. What would I do if I were him? "You would give me a correction for not being immediately honest, and make me go back and apologize to Chao's mom for lying to her, Sir?" "Is that what you want me to do?" Dad seemed solemn without a trace of anger about my lies now that I had come clean. This was a catch-22 question because if I answer Yes I want to be punished then I'll sound like I do enjoy it. If I answer no I don't want to be punished then I will sound like a brat who tries to get out of punishment. I took a deep breath and dived in "What I want you to do is irrelevant, because I am your three hole slut and you own me. You are educating me because you know what is best for me, and Taylor men rule, Taylor women drool, Sir" He smiled at my answer (probably because it was not a yes or a no, and more of a response than an answer). He said "Do you believe that with all your heart?" "Yes Sir, you've proven that those with the cocks make the rules in our family Sir" which he reminded me of daily. "We'll see about that." We were standing in front of Dragon Tattoo and I just now noticed that he had managed to navigate us through the byzantine like maze of stalls and stores to the exact place we were looking for. There was absolutely no privacy here so that passersby could watch tattoos being applied in one of the three available tattoo chairs. There were two Asian tattoo artists working. The first was applying a dragon to a man's shoulder and the second was putting a tramp stamp on a woman's lower back. She had a towel over her lap for vanity but both were fairly exposed. This was not unlike the gazebo at the county fair, which relied on impulse purchases of people passing by watching the work. It also allowed voyeuristic gadflies to watch people endure the stinging pain of a tattoo or get a new piercing to satisfy their own depraved amusement. I don't really blame them - I was enjoying watching the woman's face as the artist etched 'Juicy' into the small of her back with angel wings. Her lips danced with the sublime pain she was enduring tracing each line he made with his needle gun. My Dad handed them a note written entirely in Korean. It probably said something like 'This dumb cunt just fucked my son for free, please give them a cheap piercing in exchange and laugh at them on the way out.' The Asian man who read the note introduced himself as Andrew. There was something anti-climatic about traveling to 'Dragon Tattoo' and being surrounded by ornate Chinese boxes, plants and Buddha statues and then hearing the guy who looks like a Karate Sensei say his name is 'Andrew'. He handed the note back to my father as if it were a trivial matter. I was silently relieved that the note was obviously not derogatory about me and was probably just a simple request for a favor that they give me a piercing. I hadn't even negotiated with my father over how many stars that I would earn for this new humiliation or what it was going to be. I decided to keep quiet about it until asked because that seemed like the most submissive thing to do. There had been a (slight) lull in my constant humiliation and I wasn't going to jinx it by making demands. I offered Andrew a perfect curtsy with my head bowed, dipping my knee and he smiled. "So what do you want today, little girl?" "Whatever my father thinks is appropriate for me, Sir." I smiled wistfully at my father in the hopes that was the right answer. "Well, I don't do tattoos on people under eighteen, even with permission slips." Andrew answered pre-emptively. "Actually, she just wants a nose ring," My dad looked sternly at me. I assumed he was waiting for me to flinch or ask for stars but I decided to try to remain gracious and accepting and see where that took me. Andrew drew in his breath as if mentally assessing what that would involve 'Sssssssssssss, has she ever had any piercings besides her ears? I would suggest perhaps a tongue ring first before a septum piercing." "Show him." My dad ordered. "Take off my shirt here, Sir?" Unlike Chao's t-shirt stand where the rows and rows of mostly inappropriate or out of date T-shirts offered me some protection this place was fairly wide open. The stall was surrounded by a wall that was waist high but anyone walking by could look in. "That won't be necessary." Andrew grinned good naturedly. He looked like a twenty-year old version of Chao in the face. I wonder if that is racist to think that two Korean guys look alike? Probably not because they are related and they really do have the same features. Then again I'd probably think Jackie Chan was related to both of them, so maybe I am a horrible racist -That is awful, lol. It is a good thing no one else but me is reading this journal. I am not even sure I'll be able to bring myself to read all of this when I am older or I will want to close this chapter in my life completely. I think knowing me right now I would want to save all of this for posterity. "So you have the belly button ring?" Andrew asked me with a smirk. "No Sir, my nipples, and my clit have hoops." "Yes, and I want the hoop through her nose to match." My dad said to a wide-eyed Andrew who was re-assessing me with his eyes. He thought I was just a goofy teenager but now he was seeing me as a naughty little slut I was sure. "I'd have you do her asshole, but there isn't enough privacy here." My dad said without even blinking. Andrew laughed nervously at my father's awkward suggestion and added, "We can provide privacy cloth, but that is a new one to me." He laughed as if hoping my father was kidding, but I knew he wasn't. I had just had a boy younger than me piss in my mouth and lived to tell the tale but even as confident as I was that I could face my father's humiliations it was making me nervous to stand there quietly. I felt like they were discussing what to do with my body as if I wasn't even standing there and truth be told that is exactly what was happening. I took my father's decision to give me a nose ring to be a sign that he felt I would most certainly be suspended tomorrow morning at school anyway. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of crying about all of that as long as I could remain stoic. In a week or less we'll have completed our obligation and I can remove a piercing so my thoughts were that I could face whatever they pick for me in the short term. Andrew seemed like a really nice guy who was gentle just like Chao. I was happy that for once it seemed like maybe I could get a break. I've had pie's thrown in my face, been electrocuted, fucked in the ass, sucked a bunch of dicks, and had my titties clamped in a vice, so I deserved a little break. "I think it cost around 40 dollars?" Andrew said. "Wait? The note I handed you said you guys were going to do it for free?" My dad narrowed his eyes skeptically. Andrew politely replied that he didn't read Korean. He made a joke, "Oh, just because I am the Asian guy you think I automatically read Korean?" then seeing my dad was not amused quietly went to get his uncle who did read Korean. Andrew's father was over six foot tall and very muscular and almost completely covered in foreboding tattoos of dragons, fire, spiders and ancient lettering. He was dressed in biker leathers and looked like the kind of man who didn't take shit from anyone. He seemed disturbed anyone would bother him as he emerged from a small back office but when he saw me standing next to my father he brightened very slightly. "Ryang" he offered his name and his hand to my father. My dad has been surging with a cocky sort of confidence lately but even he wasn't going to try to out-Alpha Dog this guy. I could sense my father's ego deflate slightly because Ryang oozed a sort of dangerousness. Ryang read the note provided by Chao's mother and laughed out loud and he looked me over. "You fuck my nephew?" "Yes Sir" I just completely lied, but in my defense I felt like a mouse looking into a Cobra's eyes waiting for him to strike and eat me whole. He laughed and tapped my father's chest with his knuckles. "You make my nephew a man today," his voice was dry and gravelly but beaming with pride. "Tell me what you want us to do with this one?" "I was thinking you could give her a nose ring but Andrew says maybe she should have a tongue stud?" "Why you want to make such pretty face ugly with ring?" Ryang's voice gave off a quiet aura of authority. I could only think he reminded me of the villain in every Jackie Chan movie. That impossibly bad mastermind who took Jackie Chan's love interest and hid her away in his stronghold. "That could be part of the problem, she is too proud. Her face is so strikingly beautiful, it has made her act like she is superior to everyone." Ryang laughed at my father and drank me in with his eyes. I felt like he had taken the complete measure of me in a glance and decided "She seems very humble to me. You want nose ring, little girl?" "Whatever my father would like, Sir." I curtsied for him. I wasn't trying to make my dad mad. However, I could sense he felt I was leaving him to look like the bad guy. I was being demure and sweet just like I was supposed to and that made him defensive about how prideful I really was in the past. "This is her now, but she used to be a raving bitch just like her mother." Ryang seemed to look right through my dad with a quiet disbelief. "Let me show you tongue studs, then you make up you mind." Ryang had a collection of the normal cosmetic gold and silver studs and rings for the tongue in a case. There were some novelty ones and I think I saw the ones my dad was going to pick before he did. There in the case was a silvered cock shaped ring that looked like a tiny erect penis (balls and everything). "You sure you want me to pick for you, if you really leave it up to me, you don't get any stars for this." My dad taunted me that I'd be undergoing this procedure for nothing. I actually wasn't sure if I cared about stars as much as I thought I did. When my mom is around and they have us racing or playing a game for them I care but I wasn't all that worried about it. "Please Sir, can I at least have one star for agreeing to this?" I was only half-sure I even had the right to decline what we were doing but I thought I should at least speak up for myself. "See?" My dad tried vainly to make the case that my respectful request was grounds for Ryang to have sympathy for me. I briefly thought about playing the brat for my dad's benefit so he wouldn't look so frustrated but I didn't have it in me. I think having my ass kicked so hard today has really managed to make me feel less shallow and bitchy and around Ryang I just didn't feel like misbehaving even if I was acting. "Okay, one star! I know exactly which one it is going to be." my dad was slipping. He had stuck to his guns about the lies earlier when I said I didn't want to tell him and I told him anyway. He had to know I was terrible at negotiation and would have probably agreed for no stars but I think he was getting flustered at how Ryang was looking at him. Ryang had said nothing but in that silence, I could sense judgment passing between the two men and my father feeling guilty. "What other piercings do you have?" Ryang asked me confidently. "My clit and both of my nipples Sir" I breathed out nervously. I could see why my father was even intimidated by him. Ryang could say a lot with only a little. Ryang seemed surprised "I see, perhaps this girl is more wild than I imagine. You have face of Chunsa, the angel." He put his finger under my chin to lift my head so he could look at me. "Show him!" my dad's voice cracked slightly when he gave me the order. We were standing at the entrance to the tattoo parlor and there were people passing by. "Take off my entire Shirt, Sir?" I implored him not to make me get naked right there. I was positive that was a violation of the rules about clothing in public. "Here, I have privacy sheet." Ryang offered as he led us to the only open chair and he pulled a 'privacy sheet' which was little more than a child's bedspread on a curtain rod. It only blocked people walking directly past from seeing but the customers and other tattoo artists could see me as well. Ryang looked at me as if waiting to see my piercings so I took a deep breath and pulled my shirt off over my head and held it in my left hand while I stood in front of him completely naked. The thing about this Korean business, it seemed like a family affair as mother's handled babies and cooked lunch in the back, the other artists went about tending to their customers and acted as if seeing a naked teenage girl was totally normal. I suppose if I had to pick freaking out or acting normal – I would pick the latter. He looked me up and down, at first inspecting both of my breasts. I am sure he noticed how the hoops were tightly clamped into my distended and engorged nipples and all the marks from diodes and tit clamps and hand slaps. I was wondering what it will feel like to get my nose or tongue pierced. I knew girls at school who had done both but I had a feeling mine would be worse. I shouldn't feel so special as if what I have to endure is more painful than others but I can't help this feeling that I am the main character in a novel someone is writing. Things keep happening to me that make me feel like my life is a movie and lately it has felt like a porn movie. Several months ago I was just a normal teenager who did well in school and had plans to attend college, marry my astronaut, move to the suburbs and I felt like a background character in my own life - I can no longer say that is true. Ryang bent down and looked at my pussy as if thinking about what color he wanted to paint on a canvas while I stood straight at attention. My clit hood was pulled out between my lips and forced to remain there, unable to return to its hiding place. I was in a constant state of mild arousal and looking at it only made me wetter. "Turn around." Ryang put his hand under his chin. I stood straight and turned for him so that he could see my tattoo. "Whore?" his one word question bit right through me like there was much more being asked. I felt as if he were asking if I really felt that way about myself and was this the right word. "Position One, so he can see the letter O, you dumb cow." My dad ordered. "Yes Sir" I executed the position keeping head straight, tits out and pulled my cheeks apart. I would have liked to see Ryang's face because in my mind I felt he was looking at me with disappointment, that I was a good girl and I shouldn't have this on my body for the rest of my life. "You father is right, you are slut." My eyes went wide with his words because I had expected him to tell me kindly that I should put on my clothes and go home and be a good girl. This was the last thing I was expecting. "You want sell her to Korean motorcycle club? We can make embarrassment for you and family go away." My dad laughed at first, almost like Andrew had when my father was being serious, "For good? No ... I just want the piercing." "You don't need to take off all clothes for tongue piercing." Ryang added, "You want everyone to know your daughter is a shameful slut to teach her to be good, is that right?" I knew now what my father had decided. I would be getting the tongue stud shaped like a cock. Ryang was holding the exact one I picked out of the sixty or so possible choices without knowing for sure. I think I've started to know my father pretty well these past two weeks. Why does it feel bad some times to be proven right? "Actually, that is dead on." My dad said in answer to Ryang's question. He did want everyone to know I was a shameful slut and teach me to be 'good'. I think the definition of what 'good' is has been clear to him but I've only naively started to come out of my shell and realize it isn't the same as 'pure'. "This is why you make her take it up her ass, so she keeps her virgin head?" Ryang asked with a tone that implied he already knew the answer. "I guess you could say that." Dad agreed. "When I was a boy, I grew up in the CCP in China, and I see many struggle session." Ryang saw neither of us understood his reference. "You must confess your crimes in front of friend, family, stranger while they harass you. It was very powerful. My sister confess to being whore." Ryang sounded disgusted she would admit to that. "I was only ten years old and I strip her naked myself and put her in the tramp chair to sit in the village square for three days so she repent. She never sell sex for money after that." He looked me up and down "You want to stop her from being whore?" Ryang asked my father once again. I stopped paying attention to the stares from the others in the shop or the people who caught sight of me from one of the sides of the privacy blanket and only focused on Ryang's powerful voice. "Actually, my daughter teases and uses her charms to get her way, and her power came from the promise without the delivery. She is being brought down to the level of a common street whore, so that she will not be so frigid, and act like her tits and pussy are a special gift, they are just parts of the body. She used to put on airs like she was too important to spend time with the family and now she serves the family." Ryang nodded in understanding with my father, "Let me introduce you to my own shame." He made a sound like a bullfrog croaking that was apparently Korean for 'get your ass out here right now'. My own selfish concerns about my treatment and shame went completely out the window once I saw the beautiful naked girl march through the curtain hesitantly. It was Sun-Lee the girl who used to be on the cheerleader squad. She immediately recognized me and started to go back behind the curtain but her father reached out and grabbed her by a chain and yanked her forward without the least bit of effort. I immediately noticed her light yellow flesh had dozens of tiny red lines from being whipped. She had a dragon tattoo going up her thigh and not only did she have nipple piercings but there were metal weights hanging from her nipples pulling her otherwise perfect tits straight down. I think I finally understand the reaction people get to seeing me do something disgusting or nasty when they see my face looks so innocent. It was like looking at chocolate and vanilla to see such a perverse naked form with such a sweet almost child-like face on top of it. She was gagged with a bamboo flute that was carved to look like a duck bill and strapped to her head. She had a long broom handle coming out of her ass cheeks that dragged the ground like a tail. "This my daughter, Sun-Lee, she tell lies and spread rumors, to teach her to watch her tongue now all that comes from her mouth is lovely bird calls." I had a hard time believing the studious and shy former-cheerleader told lies and deceptions enough to deserve this treatment -then again here I am in the same situation and people think I am Pollyanna pure bread too. There was just something pathetic and accepting in Sun-Lee's face that made me admire how stoically she endured it. I think even if she wasn't gagged she would have been silent and respectful. Sun-Lee demonstrated for my father by trying to speak and the only sound that came out besides a slight murmur was a lovely bird song. I could see in her own eyes, the questions I was asking about how she ended up here that she was asking about me in her recognition, I was under some similar discipline as she was. I would never have imagined this to happen to Sun-Lee, but then I hadn't thought Hope Miller would be a slave either. I am learning that despite our sweet demeanors on the outside, some of us whether we realize it or not do need discipline and have to face our demons. I am also learning that my story where I am the main character intersects theirs where they are the main character and I have to accept that other people may have it even harder than I do -that is part of growing up I think. "She is being shamed for being lazy, and falling behind, but I do not allow anyone to touch her but me. She might like the touch of boy, would you not?" He asked his daughter. She could only respond in a bird call and he laughed "I thought as much, so you see as a father I understand." I think my father's apprehension about Ryang melted away as he studied Sun-Lee's body much the way Ryang had mine. I know my dad envied Van Pewterschmidt and wanted to top him in everything but I think he genuinely found a role model in Ryang after that meeting. "You want trade daughter?" Ryang laughed at my father's sudden interest in Sun-Lee. "No, no, I'll keep mine, but I was wondering what would you charge me for the weights?" He was looking at Sun-Lee's breasts. She couldn't look up at any of us. She just kept her head down and waited to be permitted to retreat back into the small kitchen and living area where the other women were. "I am business man, but for you I charge what my cousin charged." My dad smiled at his new personal hero "I like the way you think." They brought me into the smoky general room that was their kitchen and break room. A bitter shrimp and salty fish smell of someone's cooking assaulted my nose. There were three other women in the cramped quarters caring for babies, cleaning, folding and cooking. Sun-Lee followed my Dad and I felt like there wasn't enough room to stand. I wondered if when Sun-Lee had told me she wasn't going to be in cheerleading and she had received what was an 'Asian F', she had been hinting that she knew she would get this torment. In retrospect I thought she was just a disappointed over-achiever like me, but now that I thought about it I hadn't seen her in school since then. "You want to do it right here, Sir?" I am sure I sounded frightened and my question only made Ryang and my dad laugh. "Why, do you have a reservation at the Hilton for me?" Ryang's question rang cold and bitter. I assumed this was my signal to start so I sunk to my knees and unsheathed his cock from his pants. It was big and thick with pendulous balls that hung very low but it wasn't as massive as I thought it might be. I think I just assumed he would have a giant dick because he acts like an alpha male who rules the roost. No one stopped what they were doing while I tongued his dick. I jerked him a little until I could hold him in both hands and massage the vein under his cock. I looked up at my father and gave him a shy smile to let him know I wasn't freaking out. I probably should have been because I was in a room of people washing clothes and cooking sucking a stranger's cock. My father found a small box to sit on and folded his arm to watch. Sun-Lee returned to pacing the room wiggling her ass to clean up the perpetually dirty floor and move rag dolls and toys out from under foot. I could hear her bird call making me visualize the toot of a horn to let people know they were in her way. "Do you want to fuck me in the ass now, Sir?" I asked sweetly. "I tell you what I want." was his answer as he grabbed me hard by my throat, placing both his thumbs on my windpipe to choke off my air but not crush it. This was nothing like Chao's sweet touches as he violently face fucked me causing me to gag and choke. Meanwhile my dad had been texting; BILL: "Get your asses over here. CHRIS: WRE? BILL: Dragon Tattoo, bring the Bengay too, the dumb cunt forget to leave us with any. CHRIS: CNT, MOM SUKING COX, RITE NAO BILL: Dammit, type in English. I don't understand your chat speak. Tell her to stop wasting time and get here now. My dad sent Chris our location at the flea market while he watched me get mouth-raped by a Korean biker. How is that for a headline to a 'what I did for my summer vacation' essay? "I thought this girl was trained, she is going to throw up?" Ryang shouted over the din of metal pots and Korean being spoken. He didn't slow down his violent thrusts gagging me with his blunt dong though. "She knows she'll lick it up if she does." My Dad answered confidentially. I had been getting better at relaxing my muscles to allow men to drive their dicks into the back of my throat but he was going past my tonsils and hitting that delicate part right behind that which was making me want to puke. I was relieved that after five minutes of gripping my face tightly, he finally came, slamming his hot cum into my mouth and pulling my hair. I didn't realize it but I was crying and he wiped my tear to taste it. He held my nose pinched between his thumb, "Her nose is pointy and turned up like my daughter's nipples, the sign of one who is plagued with pride. I like your way of training daughter, Sun-Lee will have gag removed." My dad was completely flattered that Ryang wanted to adopt his treatment of me, "If you like that, we should probably compare notes, I like your way of doing things too. Do you have another broom?" I was still recovering from a rough mouth-fucking and I was still getting my bearings when Ryang grabbed my shoulder blades and told me to pull my cheeks apart. He twisted a broom handle and shoved it easily six inches up my ass. "You should always grease with duck lard." He advised my father before adding "Your daughter can take broom deeper and longer, no bleeding or scratching." "There is no point in her cunt juices staining one of your chairs out there. She can lean back on the broom handle for you to pierce her?" I felt like my voice box was no longer working and that my throat muscles had become strained like I had just screamed for an hour. I tried to clear my throat and try to find out how many stars this counted as but I could only sputter and hack up a little of the cum that he drove down my gullet. One of the other tattoo artists did my nose piercing. He examined my face – turning it sideways and looking into my nostrils and mouth. "Gag." He said quietly as I wondered why they were gagging me if I was getting a tongue ring. It seemed my father had been talked into giving me more than I thought. Sun-Lee's duck gag was placed in my mouth filling it completely and clamping down on my tongue and then locked into place behind my neck. Some of the children laughed at me while I responded in melodious whistles. I could still taste her spit on the gag and with my face straight ahead I assumed she was probably sucking someone's cock now that her father had been influenced by mine. I made a mental note to apologize to her. Then again I had six inches of broom coming out of my ass that was her father's idea and a duck bill flute that I couldn't remove so maybe we would call it even if we ever dared to even talk about this when it was all over. Would this ever end? Could I ever go back to a normal life after living like this? My mother was shoved into the already cramped living space by Chris. He was in high spirits 'Hi ya Sis, seems you still have a stick up your ass?" I could only whistle in response and he laughed, "Music to my ears." My mother had her hands behind her back and was still wearing her clothes but judging from her makeup and hair someone or several people had just cum all over her face and chest and she must have had to walk through the flea market like that. I started to wish that little man with the glasses who ran the flea market would appear and say 'nuh-uh, no more of this' but in this private little room I am sure that was too much to hope for. My mom was still dressed in skirt and half-top. Aside from cum-stains her shirt was smeared with two big circles around her nipples from her lactating boobs. "You breast feed?" Ryang asked her and my father answered, "They can both give milk, but not a lot." "You very useful to Korean family!" He made some short guttural sounds that sounded like he was angry and women quickly brought two toddlers to my mom to suckle. She removed her shirt and stepped out of her skirt, "Do I need a broom, too?" She asked with the curl of a smile on her lips. Her being able to joke in light of everything made me laugh and lifted my spirits, which was good because it was at that moment the tattoo artist chose to pinch the mound of flesh forced out by my clit as he examined it roughly. I would have screamed but all I could do was "Freeararreeeeeeeeeeeee" like a bird in heat. When I opened my eyes my mom was no longer smiling with a hint of gallows humor. She was naked and gagged with dirty cloth. She was facing me leaning back on a broom that had been shoved up her butt with her legs spread apart so that her cunt was completely on display. We learned not only would we be getting pierced in our cunts, we were getting new 'clit and tit accessories' which on the bright side, I was glad I hadn't quibbled over stars because he gave us both five stars total for this. I think he was just in a generous mood because he was so pleased to find a kindred spirit in Ryang. I was also to learn this was not costing anything since Ryang was going to 'take it out in trade' and I knew that meant my mother and I having to give up our asses (again). Mikey told me when he did my first piercing it was a horizontal clitoral hood piercing with a captive ring. It had been a real mind fucker this past week and I was still not used to it. The tattoo artist spoke mostly Korean when he did talk and I couldn't ask questions anyway but I wondered what he had in mind for us. My mother's pussy lips had been folded open on the sides and delicate diamond studs seemed to hold them like butterfly wings so that you could see inside of her. A small weight was attached by a chain to dangle from her clit ring and I could tell, even as small as it was it probably felt impossibly painful. The man working on me tried to position me the same way but he could not pull my pussy flaps to the side like my mother's. She has a lot more folds and 'meat' to work with but mine has almost no slack to offer. If it wasn't for the clit hood being forced outside of my body, everything happens on the inside with me. I was wet and he knew that but he didn't rub that fact in my face. He worked as if the smell of my musky pussy and its wetness were completely normal and probably to a man who does tattoos and piercings at a flea market it is. I can't say most of his clients opt to impale themselves on six inches of broom handle and sit naked in a crowded room to breast feed their kids, but given what I had seen of Sun-Lee's life I didn't doubt they were used to humiliations here. He eventually managed to get two diamond studs into the sides of my pussy but it couldn't hold me open. I think as some sort of compensation for the fact I didn't get as severe a piercing, or maybe he only had a weight slightly larger, he attached a lead ball that I swear had to weigh at least a half-pound. I tried to cry out but all I could do was make bird whistles which seemed to amuse everyone but the naked people in the room. I went backwards in my mind to when we were in Madam Chang's trailer and the laughter and casual way the twins were with our nudity as they painted our body. I think Asian people might just be more comfortable with things like this because I couldn't picture other people dealing with this spectacle without years of therapy. The women who cared for the toddlers waddling around the room all seemed to care for them equally, you would never guess which one was the biological mother because they worked efficiently and quietly together taking care of all of the kids. My mind wandered while they attached a chain to my nipples. At my father's request he decided not to attach weights to my nipples. I was at first relieved because my breasts had been my triggers and tugging and pinching them only served to bring me into an orgasmic panic at times. Instead of straight down like Sun-Lee, my nipples were pulled out and up, and then a chain was attached to both rings and ran behind my neck like a necklace. Chris had wanted them to attach it to my nose ring but the tattoo artist advised I could accidentally yank it out if anyone pulled me around roughly. "We wouldn't want that." My mom's tits are much larger than mine and the shape is very different, almost unnaturally perky and bouncy. A thin metal chain was drawn between her tits and then threaded into her clit studs and through the hoop. Ryang pulled the chain slightly and she shook. I think my mom was pridefully trying to be defiant and not give him the satisfaction of her acknowledging this new modification could give her pleasure. He tugged it much harder and the spasm was much more pronounced and much more certainly from pain. I felt so bad for my mom having to endure all of this. I am young and fit and I can handle it but I hate that they torture her as much as me. They ungagged me first to give me the tongue stud. The tattooist made an exaggerated face like when a brat wants to give you a raspberry and sticks out their tongue. I imitated him as he suggested and he closed two chopsticks around my tongue quickly and bound them so my tongue couldn't retreat into my mouth. 'Oh great, if Chris sees this I'll be like this for hours at home', was my first thought as the discomfort and drool from being gagged that way was immediate and absolute. The stud puncture of my tongue was surprisingly not as painful as I thought at first. It felt like a painful bite and then there was a numbness. They left me like that and repeated the process to my mother right in front of me. She took the piercing very well and only shut her eyes and showed a little discomfort when it happened. 'Way to go mom, you are one tough slut!' It is funny that I called my mom 'slut' in my own thoughts and didn't feel guilty about it at all – like it was a title of honor or a nickname. I had friends who called each other 'slut' like a nickname and I assume it is how blacks can call each other 'nigger' but won't let outsiders do it. I guess my mom was my own 'slut-nigger' now and we would have this bond forever even if we do remove the tongue studs. It is funny that six months ago I may have naively wanted a tongue ring because I hadn't sexualized it or thought it was taboo since my friends did it. I didn't feel that way now but I wasn't regretting it (yet). We stayed at Dragon Tattoo until close to 3pm. We served Chris and my dad big bowls of rice and some kind of soup that looked like something they'd offer me stars to eat on a dare. They were polite enough to eat it all (and probably hungry enough). I know I was. We remained naked and I have to admit the duck lard never made me chafe, I hardly even noticed I was dragging around a broom except when it caught on someone's foot or a wooden block or something. They joked about doing more tattoos and piercings but I think my father may have actually taken a little pity on us. My brother had a field day snapping pictures of us dragging the broom behind us (I even wiggled my butt at him a few times playfully) and laughing at us while we tried to help 'Oh how the might have fallen' but he seemed to have eyes for Sun-Lee. I don't think she cared at this point if he looked at her but it is so hard to tell what she may be thinking behind those deep, dark almond shaped eyes. She might have actually been enjoying his attention or hoping we had sympathy for her but we would never know by looking at her impassive and accepting expression. I wondered if I could maintain an austere expression like that instead of always having the urge to smile like a goofy teeny-bopper. I wanted to joke 'What about Delilah Waxerman' but naturally my tongue was forced out side of my mouth the same way my clit was and if I had said anything it would have sounded like "mrmrmamrmrmm". I think I got in the way more than helped with cleaning up, and the Korean women seemed to snub me. My mom usually had at least one kid on a titty the entire time but I suppose because I have smaller breasts they thought my milk might be inferior or something. At the very end, one of the women put a bouncing baby on my knee and let me try to suckle him. He wasn't getting much milk but he sure did try to get a drink. I was afraid he'd hurt himself on my piercing but they showed me how to let him work around the nub and not get that in his mouth. I was very proud that I was actually suckling and I think either those hormonal pills brought it out in me or just the natural call of the wild but I swear the beginnings of a maternal instinct began to swell in me as I provided milk to a new life. Don't get all proud of me just yet though, he pulled a 'Chao' on me when I went to clean his cloth diaper and pissed straight in my face!! Yeah, I bet you are laughing at me, even I thought that was pretty funny so go on and laugh. ------- Chapter 7: Chris's Journal - I Tawt I Taw a Puddy Tat STAR COUNT: WENDY: 51 Get out of jail cards: 1 WHORE: 5,3,0,0,0 JAMIE: 59 Get out of jail cards: 1 WHORE: 4,3,0,0,0 Note to reader: This is Chris's journal from Sunday afternoon detailing the events of approximately 1pm when he is at the Flea Market. In order to increase readability, some of the dialogue exchanged was altered to appear in a 'narrative' story format. "Oh my God!!" "You can call me Sir or Master, you don't have to go as far as God" I had just answered my mother's painful and desperate cries. When is that bitch going to learn that only fuels my desire to hear more of it? We had been loading all the family crap into Buddy $ales Warehouse. When I say "We" I mean my mom doing all the heavy lifting (naturally) and me in a supervisory role naturally. I made her carry it all by hand even though I could have had her load it into the truck and drive it over but who wants to waste gas these days when you got cunt power? Four bucks a gallon? No Thanks Obama, I'll just load it up on my mother's ass and have her cart it on over. Buddy $ales is a total weirdo, but he did tell me a funny joke; A man is sitting on a train across from a busty blonde wearing a tiny mini skirt. Despite his efforts, he is unable to stop staring at the top of her thighs. To his delight, he realizes she has gone without underwear. The blonde realizes he is staring and inquires, "Are you looking at my pussy?" "Yes, I'm sorry," replies the man and promises to avert his eyes. "It's quite alright," replies the woman, "It's very talented, watch this, I'll make it blow a kiss to you." Sure enough the pussy blows him a kiss. The man, who is completely absorbed, inquires what else the wonder pussy can do. "I can also make it wink," says the woman. The man stares in amazement as the pussy winks at him. "Come and sit next to me," suggests the woman, patting the seat. The man moves over and is asked, "Would you like to stick a couple of fingers in?" Stunned, the man replies, "Good grief! Can it whistle too?!" "Mom, can you make your pussy whistle?" "No Sir, just my asshole." Even Buddy laughed at that. Oh yeah, why was she screaming Oh My God? Well, Buddy's warehouse is one of the only air-conditioned places in this rat-infested trailer park mecca and it also doubles for what these people might consider a "Sam's Warehouse" or "Costco" selling the higher end of the shit-tastic junk that they all seem to treasure. Well in my mother's case it became a "BJ's" because I was able to find about seven dudes who were willing to lay down twenty bucks each to get sucked off by my mom in Buddy's backroom. My mom didn't have any qualms about letting them pump her pussy or fuck her in the ass right in front of me like she might have if Jamie had tagged along so it went like clockwork. That is until Buddy $ales skated up and wanted a cut since he was providing the 'bordello'. I offered to let him have my mom in trade but he wanted Jamie instead. I was trying to work all that out when I got a text from my dad to haul ass over to some tattoo parlor. I was thinking 'Oh here we go again' another Mikey's tattoo parlor all over again. I really liked Mikey when I met him at the county fair, and I think the best part of the night was watching my sister roll around on the floor having a fifteen minute orgasm (I didn't time it, maybe it was three minutes). It was so hilarious watching her mewl like a kitten and suck her thumb. She has no idea that men go through this all the time when we cum. My entire body tenses up and my muscles ache and, well okay, I don't roll around on the floor and suck my thumb so I guess it's nothing like that. Anyway, I reminded my mom how it felt when she was the boss of me and could lead me around by a leash. I rushed her to get dressed and let the cum dry on her face and chest while I tried to follow my father's fucked up directions through Hee-Haw land. I could have sworn my mom didn't mind fucking and sucking strangers on her hands and knees as much as she did letting go of some of those picture frames and baby books. I made a mental note to mention that to her sometime in an affirmation. I told her 'Don't look back at that pile of family bullshit, you'll turn to a pillar of salt' as we left what she hadn't had time to load at Buddy's behind. You would think a woman in a micro-mini-skirt and half-shirt who has her hair and face glazed with cum like a jelly donut would attract attention anywhere she goes – especially if she is being pulled by her dog collar and has her hands cuffed behind her. One thing I'll give all the rednecks, freaks and general weirdos at the Flea Market is they aren't judgmental, because we seemed to fit in. I've been an outcast for most of my life because of my weight and nerdy interests. Most people thought I was dumb even though I excel when you give me something I am interested in. I think this past week I've opened up a lot more than normal and maybe I'll stop journaling so much and express myself more in public. Amongst the Mexicans, the hairlips, the Cowboy hat wearing good-old boys and their pregnant cousins we didn't seem all that out of place. I won't say no one looked at us, but I don't think we could have got away with this with all the SUV driving soccer-MILFS at a store like Bed, Bath and Beyond. I was almost out of breath when I finally navigated the Bermuda triangle of bad taste to get to Dragon Tattoo. They've got three chairs and it's all wide open so I assume I'll see my dear sister and her golden hair flailing around naked on display like she did at that sweet arcade (Mental note: Go find out if he has Gorf for sale!) (Mental note update: I forgot, we are fucking broke. Even with the money we are making, no retro gaming goodness for Chris. I never get a break). Anyway, I didn't see Jamie but they were obviously expecting us because they pointed to this curtain to a backroom. I shoved mom face first into the room so I can catch my breath because Dad was texting like mad that we needed to hurry up and get there. The place smelled like dog shit, wet dog, pussy and some kind of yummy asian food all rolled into one stinky cabbage roll with a dollop of sweat poured on it for good measure. That is the first thing you notice. With all the steam and dust in the room you'd think they were running some kind of full-time laundry. Sis was naked (as she should be) with her legs splayed wide leaning back on a wooden broom stick like it was some kind of lounge chair. That had to hurt! I think I said something like 'Hi ya Sis, seems you still have a stick up your ass?" Her lips curled around the duck bill gag they had shoved in her mouth and I think she smiled at my joke. All that came out of her mouth was a bird call – totally brilliant! I need to get one of those –No, two of those! Mom's fat tits were dripping milk when she was back at the warehouse and now her shirt was soaked. This bad-ass asian biker dude who looked like an older Bolo Yeung from Enter the Dragon seemed to be running the show. He was impressed my mom was leaking milk so I didn't hesitate to strip her naked and let him have a closer look. I found out later his name is Ryang and he is supposed to be local Yakuza if you can believe that. There was a girl from my high school there and I know this sounds completely implausible but she was completely naked and had a broom up her ass just like Jamie. I used to have the hots for her in high school because I totally love Asian women. I may not have realized I like how submissive they can seem until my mom and sister started serving me. She used to be so studious and meek (and nerdy). I thought I had a chance with her even though she never gave me the time of day back then. I don't what she did to end up like this and I think I didn't bother to wonder why. All the females in my immediate family were trussed up like the goose they had hanging over their makeshift stove pot, so it just made sense to me that she should too. You see naked Asian tits you don't ask why – that is one of my new rules to live by and I think most guys would agree with that one! My mom impressed me by joking casually "Do I get a broom too?" I think she knew she was going to anyway so may as well make a joke. I don't know if I get my sense of humor from her side or my dad's but this past week she has said some funny shit that has really impressed me. I'll need to tell her after this is all over that I really enjoyed some of her sick humor. They call it 'gallows' humor because she usually cracks a joke when things seem completely hopeless. I admire it. They greased up her new portable chair (broom stick) with 'duck lard' (Which sounds yummy) and slid it right up her tanned ass cheeks. Cow tits barely even blinked when they made her lean back and spread herself like her cunt of a daughter. It was hilarious to see them eye each other face to face like that and wonder what was going to happen next. I decided to snap a few pictures on my cell phone for posterity sake. I've got hundreds of photos of my mom and sister pissing themselves in the yard and sucking dicks but even I had to admit being in a smoky backroom of a tattoo parlor was edgy for the Taylor family. I took quite a few of Sun-Lee in part because I was still finding it hard to believe she was here naked just like my sister and mom. I probably shouldn't be surprised she was a proud, goody-two shoes over-achiever who wouldn't give a loser a second glance just like my sister and so she was probably learning a valuable lesson. I really don't care, because it made my dick hard and it was hilarious to see the three of these bitches squat on brooms and hold their pussies open for whoever wanted to look. The tattoo artists acted very professional but what was really weird was they had all these other Korean washing women fully dressed, roaming around folding and pressing and taking care of a bunch of rugrat Korean babies. The rugrats may never remember seeing all this twisted shit or maybe that is just how they grow up, I don't know, but even I was made a little uncomfortable by all their farting and burping and crying and crawling underfoot. I grabbed a crate and sat by dad while we watched Mom and Sis get their pussies pierced. I would have liked to see them get a nose ring. I joked with my dad, "You know Dad, by making this choice in some alternate universe, Jamie and Mom got nose rings." My dad hadn't watched that episode of Star Trek where there is an alternate Universe where everyone is an evil copy of themselves. I tried to picture "Evil Chris" with a goatee pulling "Evil Jamie" with a nose ring around by a leash. In that Universe she looks like a punk rock angel chick or some kind of anime' anthropomorphic cow and is always naked (Hey it's an evil Universe and women can be subjugated there! Look, it's my imaginary fantasy, it works how I want it too). I think it would actually look hot for them to have nose rings. Then again, just like when Jamie got the tattoo on that perfectly pristine, completely blemish free ass of hers, I think it could subtract from her natural beauty. Evil Chris doesn't give a shit. He just sticks his dick right up his Sisters Ass. I love evil Chris. I should probably grow a goatee. If he ever breaks into my Universe I'll be like, "Whats up? I am the real evil Chris" and that will confuse the hell out of him. My father just looked at me like I was high when I tried to explain infinite Universes to him and I could tell he had a Man – Crush on that Ryang and didn't want me jabbering about nerd stuff so I let it drop. I talked dad into giving them each five stars for enduring all this if we could add some weights. I really liked seeing Sun Lee's clit pulling that weight around and how it bobs and wiggles with every step. I was feeling a little sympathy for Mom and Sis (I am a helluva guy, what can I say?). I am probably too generous to them and I am going to hate it when they earn their freedom but it will be fun while it lasts. I wonder what Evil Chris would say about that? He would probably call me a pussy. The Koreans attached a quarter pound weight to my mom's clit and just for fun I asked for a half-pounder for sis. I snapped some perfectly timed pictures of their faces when they felt the weight pulling down on their precious little puss-holes. I laughed my ass off and pointed, that was a lot of fun. Dad nixed the idea of attaching weights to their nipples and opted instead for chains through the hoops. He gave Jamie a 'high and tight' so her nipples are forced upwards and had Mom's run through her clit so every time she walks they'll clink and jangle and probably drive them crazy. It amazes me that the girls have the stones to take everything we can throw at them. Dad told me that Jamie said she enjoyed getting fucked in the ass earlier and let a guy piss in her mouth. That was a real shocker, but then Dad sometimes glosses over details. I will wait to hear what really happened from the little cunt. She may be a lot of things but a good liar she is not. They kept making mom suckle babies but for some reason they didn't seem to want Jamie to have a go. I think the constant real suckling may actually be part of a catalyst to finally get those milkers pumping! Sub-primal signals going to the brain 'Whoa, a baby in need, turn on the mom juice!' I don't think Sun-Lee was even lactating and she was probably thankful that Mom and Jamie were getting all the attention for a change. I am sure when we left she probably got it because her father kept taunting her in Korean. I don't think she minded as much because she kept a straight face and probably felt she deserved it. My sister always confuses me because she flashes this perfect smile like the cover of a teen magazine and is bright and cheery even when I come up with something that should make her scared. I sometimes wonder if she is just a naturally happy, shiny person or if she is doing it to goad the cynical side of me. The tattoo artist gave me this unbelievable idea (Even better than the bird whistle) when it came to prep them for their tongue piercings. (Let me just first say 'mad props' to my dad for picking tongue rings that look like shiny metal dicks, those are EXACTLY what I would have chosen). Anyway, they had them stick their tongues out as far as they would go then they used chop sticks like a splint to trap their tongues outside of their mouth. It looked painful and irritating and I was definitely going to make this a new family tradition later on. The girls didn't show me very much pain in their faces when he put the tongue rings in. I think that is the problem with using a professional tattoo artist who is used to customers who want it done as quickly and efficiently as possible – they don't know how to make it more agonizing. Then again it isn't the momentary pain that will be fun to watch. I was already picturing people at school asking Jamie, "Oh you got a tongue ring, let me see it?" and her having to open her mouth and show them that little dick on top of her perfect pink tongue. Then again she may not because she may be suspended on Monday, but either way this should be a lot of fun. I bet their blowjobs will be a whole lot more interesting. My sister and mom have become competitive about who can give the best BJ and this should add a whole new dimension as they master the ability to use it to aid their cock sucking efforts. Mom and Jamie tried to fumble around and fold clothes to keep busy after the piercings had been set (with the gag-splint in!! YES!). The Korean women kept straight faces but I could tell they didn't seem to want the help (except for mom's cow tits). I was thinking about other tattoos and piercings I'd like to inflict on them but Dad didn't seem to have the stomach for more and I agreed they probably had enough(For now). There were still so many things I wanted to have done to them but I was more than satisfied with their change in attitude. They moved more carefully now that they had a broom coming out of one hole and a weight swinging and hitting their thighs on the other hole. We made them feed us and honestly I wish they hadn't because that was real Asian food. The Kimchi almost made me throw up from the smell but, with a little persuasion from Ryang, Dad and I finally tried it. It was spicy hot but didn't really taste too bad. If it wasn't for the smell I could really enjoy it. There is a big difference between what Asian people actually eat and the cool stuff you get at a Chinese restaurant. "This tastes like the Poo Poo Platter, Dad." I joked but he didn't acknowledge it. I think he had a huge man crush on Ryang, the bad-ass who runs the place. Dad ignored me but I understand completely, I'd do the same if William Shatner was in the room (Fuck Picard!!) We knew it was wrong to keep the girls from eating but having tasted the jellyfish soup or whatever the fuck it was we ate I didn't want to feed them. I think Ryang would have saw it as disrespectful because he seemed to think he was giving us a delicacy and it would have been wasted on the women. I don't know if Korea is a misogynist paradise but the role of woman as subservient to man seems far more well defined than it is over here around American bitches. I don't just mean with Sun-Lee, I mean with all these women. They kept their eyes cast down on their work and other than yelling at each other or children they only answered the men with a more respectful tone. I say 'more respectful' because the entire language sounds like two angry people yelling at each other no matter what they are talking about when I hear it. As much as I didn't want to do it, we had to give the bird whistle gag back. It had been an heirloom in their family or some bullshit for hundreds of years, which was probably true. That could explain why seeing women gagged and splayed naked may not have been as big of a surprise to them. I could always get some chop sticks the next time I order take – out and even let the delivery guy watch what I do with them! It was getting on 3pm and we were supposed to meet Buddy to finish off the deal. "Well Ass Face, do you want to take the broom out of your ass or are you enjoying it?" "It doesn't matter if I enjoy it or not Sir, if it amuses you to have me sweep with my asshole then I will keep it in." "That will make the ride home interesting." I laughed in response. Dad got her started on answering questions that it doesn't matter how she feels about it and whatever we want. I don't like to go against my father on things like this but I really would have liked to hear if she was actually enjoying it or she hated it. I'll just have to put one check in the "Hated it box" on her behalf under 'getting brooms shoved up ass'. We made a little production out of measuring who had it up their ass the furthest when they slid off the pole. Mom beat Jamie by about an inch. Jamie pouted that she didn't know it was a competition. It is so much fun to fuck with that little competitive bitch's head. If you make something a contest she'll bend over backwards to win -That is what I love about over-achieving sluts. I've been measuring the width of their areola, the nipple radius, the asshole's diameter (and all the other holes on their body, even their nostrils) since this thing started and I think one thing I can say for sure is they seem to have this need to be judged. I don't know why women do this to each other and themselves and maybe it's why there are beauty pageants and modeling agencies but their psychology drives them to put themselves in situations where we can decide who has the better this or that. "I like Mom's new piercings the best." I told Dad and it was funny to see the cow brighten up like that had just made her day. Dad and I decided it can't be all negative even though we want to break them down – we have to also have some positive reinforcement. Jamie waited for the compliment that never came to balance it out and I could almost smell the wood burning between her ears. The Korean women had washed and cleaned mom's cum rag of a skirt and shirt while we were there and apparently Dad had bought a hilarious t-shirt for Sis. Jamie's shirt was a little longer than we normally let her wear but since she didn't get to wear any bottoms at all I didn't offer my 'veto' on the outfit. We told her anytime anyone (including us) says 'Milk, Milk... ' she is to finish the song by pointing to her crotch and saying 'lemonade' then turning her ass to face them lift up the shirt to say 'around the corner fudge is made'. The girls didn't talk much because their mouths were understandably sore and numb from what they had just endured. They sounded like they just had a shot of Novocain at the dentist. You know that gives me an idea about finding a dentist who will shoot them up with Novocain just to listen to them stammer like idiots. Three pm is like last-call at a Flea market. All the trailer trash return to the rocks they live under or back to the work release program that let them out for the day or wherever the fuck they come from so it was now virtually a ghost town. We could have walked the two sluts completely naked through the place and almost no one would have seen them. There is that weird little park manager with the glasses who seems to always show up. I call him "Sargent Buzzkill". I was thinking about daring the girls to crawl on all fours the rest of the way back to Buddy's warehouse but we were almost there and I did not want to arm them with more stars than they had already for such a trivial task. It was fun to watch them walk upright because they were both trying to move bowl-legged so the weights between their legs didn't keep banging them in the thigh. Dad ruined my fun by saying they could take it out to wear their chastity belts. I wanted them to think these were on permanently. "I heard you told Dad you had fun today?" I asked my sister and I could tell by how she flinched that she must have told him that. "Yes Sir, some of it was fun." "Was drinking piss fun?" I reached behind her and 'cuked' her ass. I had an Uncle who used to do that to me when I was little. He would squeeze my butt muscle and say 'Cuke' as he pinched it and released. I like to do little irritating things like to them when they are walking and if I don't tell you about them in my journal, I may forget some of my better ones. "Which time Sir?" Jamie asked carefully, her voice sounded lispy like a baby. "Oh, you did it more than once? Tell us all about it." I smirked at how her 'S' sounded exaggerated on 'Sir'. "Is this an affirmation Sir?" she tries to sound submissive when she talks this way but it just sounds like an old 'I Dream of Jeanie' episode to me when her responses sound submissive and now that she was lisping it only sounded more ridiculous. I feel like I am Major Nelson and she is going 'But Master, I did not mean to blink Major Healy into outer space." I'd rather she just talk in the same sweet little voice she always uses but I guess that would sound too casual. Dad and I agreed if we were going to get them to accept new roles, then part of that would be accepting new names and that is how Cow Tits and Ass Face was born. I still like calling her other nicknames but I know that it has a subtle effect on their acceptance of our dominance in a positive way to rename them. "Why, do you stop telling the truth when you aren't under an affirmation?" I made the counter-point that it shouldn't matter if it is an affirmation session or not. Jamie can't lie worth beans but the affirmation is like Wonder Woman's lasso around her tits and she is truthful to a fault for those. You know it's strange that I say she can't 'lie'. She can tell small white lies and be deceptive like most women can, but other things (bigger things) she has to tell the truth or she'll just explode. "No Sir, I was just going to ask if I could squat beneath you while you ask me these questions." "We don't have time for that kind of luxury" I dismissed her request. "Tell your whore mom, and your Dad here about the two times you swallowed piss today." I was laughing at her lisp but continuing to sound stern. "The first time was by accident, Sir." She told about the boy who had been so ticklish that while she tried to lap up his cum he pissed in her mouth. I believed that is how it probably went down but I wasn't so sure she sold me on the idea she had to keep opening her mouth to swallow more so it didn't go all over the place. "What do you think Cow Tits? Your daughter is a piss drinker who told a trick's mom he fucked her in the ass, should she have to apologize to her?" I cross-examined my mom as we made our way across the nearly empty flea market. "Yes Sir, she should have to make amends for any deception." My mom sounded absolutely sure of that. I wondered if she was mad or just distracted by the piercings keeping her pussy flaps wide open. "Have you ever drank piss like your slut of a daughter?" "Yes Sir, but not today." She didn't elaborate, which I hate. I like for them to go into detail so I don't have to drive down into all the little questions. I have made it very clear I want them to be explicit and honest with me AT ALL TIMES! "You know you are going to have to tell me all about every time right? I hope you have a good memory. Do you think you are above drinking piss?" "No Sir, I am a piss drinking slut, but I would ask not to have to do it all the time, without stars?" My mom is a greedy little cunt that is for sure. "That is what letters are for! piss bucket." I threw in a new nickname just for shits and grins. Jamie explained the second time was when she was trying to change a diaper right before we left. I could have done without the visual "Anytime a man, and I don't care how old aims his pecker in your mouth to piss, you both swallow it like you are drowning and need water!" "You mean thirsty and need water, Sir?" Jamie laughed at my mistake. Even she looked embarrassed because she was starting to sound like Elmer Fudd. "I tawt I taw a puddy Tat!" I slapped her ass and mocked her like she was Tweety Bird noticing Sylvester for the first time. "Keep it up smart ass. Yes, it's been a long day and I am already tired. You'll swallow cum and piss from now on if it's offered, and I don't want to hear negotiations for letters every time either. You'll be awarded fairly for your contributions." I asked Dad if he knew that swallowed cum stays in your stomach for seven days. I had read that in an article recently. "Well we don't want it to all go to their thighs, let's get these stuttering bitches working." He brightened at that. I pantomimed a cowboy's bullwhip whistling in the air and then sang "Head up, Move Em Out". My dad joined in "Rawhiiiide!" when he recognized the Blues Brother's reference. The girls silently started loading Buddy $ales warehouse with the rest of our stuff. I had half expected it to be missing when we got there but apparently even toothless yokels have better taste than all that fancy wicker basket and fancy-soap stuff my mom collected. I stretched and yawned, "We've probably got to give them something to eat, I don't think we've fed them today have we?" I was feeling bad because my replica of Glamdring from the Hobbit was going too. We all had to make sacrifices today (the girls more than us of course). I guess I would look pretty silly as an 18 year old with a Hobbits dagger anyway – If I had a Witch King's sword now that would be pretty bad ass. "They had breakfast" my Dad reminded me and we sauntered over to Buddy's warehouse as we wondered if they could eat with the tongue studs anyway. The Koreans hadn't given us any instructions on how to care for the piercings but Mikey had told me that some places don't care as much as he does about the after care. I could have carried something from our stuff with me to drop off but then that is why I've got two cunts to serve me. I was considering their dietary needs so why should I do grunt work if I am in management? "Hey Buddy, how are they hanging?" he reminded me of one of those 1960s con-men who talks really fast and wears greasy looking product in his hair (not the good kind, some sort of grease, pomade I think). I probably sound like a huge nerd that I know this but the guy was the spitting image of Phil Silvers the comedian who played Sgt. Bilko and that is probably why I felt uneasy doing any deals with him. He looked up from writing some transactions down in a book (Who does that in the age of computers) when we walked in and smiled at us. "If it isn't the Wicked Family Robinson, right on time to get your three hundred dollars?" "I thought you said five hundred dollars?" "Really? I don't remember that. I know you said five hundred dollars, but I don't think I said that." My dad looked ready to take all our stuff back completely and then Buddy smiled and said "I am just joshing you, here is the 325 we agreed, less my cut for the time your mom spent on her back in my storehouse." He didn't let our serious faces change his outlook, he even made a joke, "Hey fellas, How is a woman like a condom? Both spend more time in your wallet than on your dick! Hey this is the a-material stuff, you guys look like somebody broke your heart today." "Buddy, we need five hundred at least for this stuff." My dad said seriously, "I marked it to go and it didn't move." "That is just the thing, William is it?" My dad corrected him but I think he liked to call people the wrong name as sort of his schtick. "William, I am going to level with you. If you couldn't sell all this stuff priced as it was, how can I turn a profit selling it for even less than I bought it from you for? Now, I like you guys. I like your wife's tits, I like your daughter's ass, you two ... well, I like you guys, so maybe I can do an even 350 but you gotta let me fuck that cute little daughter of yours." Dad looked at him and said "For twenty five more dollars?" "Oh, is this too much?" Buddy asked snarkily. "She'll let you fuck her in the ass for fifty." "See gang, you drive a hard bargain, but I am not a fuck in the ass man, brown eye is not my style. I like that old fashioned pussy, so I'll go 375, because I really like that daughter of yours." He was an old school wheeler dealer from way back and he had a way of making you laugh while insulting you that I wish I could master. "Hey did you hear this one? Why does a squirrel swim on its back? Keep its nuts dry ... listen I could do these all day boys, but I want to make something happen here before I go home to the old folks home. We've got a 6pm curfew there and the orderlies don't like to be kept waiting." His brash new Yorker accent gave him the kind of cute chutzpah that even though I knew he was full of shit I wanted to hear what he said next. "My daughter is actually a virgin, and she is saving her pussy." "A virgin? Oh brother, have I got an Edsel to sell you that has only been driven by a sweet old lady out of Pasadena on Sundays." He doffed his hat like it was going to fall off in disbelief. "I know it's hard to believe, but she only sucks dick and takes it up the ass." "Okay a virgin cherry, now that is a rare thing. Let's say I could see the hymen in question, and I'll give you the full five hundred dollars." Dad and me had to confer on this one. We could really use the money. It wouldn't pay for everything we needed but we had both psychologically put our goal at 'five hundred' dollars (plus the pocket money we earned off the girls hooking) and what can I say, the girl is going to eventually lose it anyway. My mom and Jamie were busy nattering away about their day and sharing experiences and bonding while they loaded his warehouse like good little worker ants carrying the bullshit from our pile and putting it into his pile. We even picked up a few trinkets to carry and talk to them since we all wanted to go home. I had already promised mom to Van Pewterschmidt and I had a job lined up for Jamie as well. "Listen, I know you wanted to keep your virginity, but you are just going to give it away anyway, and Buddy wants to pay us an extra almost two hundred bucks for it." My dad lacks that Je ne sais quoi and savoir-faire that a salesman like Buddy exudes and even I wasn't buying it. My sister stopped in her tracks. She was carrying an old record player of mom's that probably meant a lot to her but wasn't worth crap. "Dad, I've been pissed on, and lost track of how many dicks I've sucked, you fucked me in the ass, I've been electrocuted, my nose has been pierced and I feel like I am pulling a ten pound weight with my cunt. I've shit outside in front of people while they giggled at me, and been naked in front of hundreds of people who laughed at me, and the one thing I asked for was to KEEP my virginity!!!!!!!!! You can punish me if you want to but you are absolutely right, I am just going to GIVE it away anyway. I don't want to have it sold or rented or taken from me – not my first time!" That would have sounded brilliant if she didn't remind me of a baby with a lisp when she had said it. I was beginning to see how this new piercing had the potential to humiliate them more than just in how it looked but in how they sounded. "Okay, okay, you could have just said no sir and politely declined. We'll just tell him we don't need money and we'll get enough some other way." My dad was playing the old passive aggressive card and Jamie fell for that one hook line and sinker. "Did you tell him I would suck his dick and let him fuck me in the ass, Sir?" she took a more polite tone. "Yah, he doesn't want your brown-eye staining his cock - He wants pussy." "What about me Sir?" My mom 'bravely' volunteering to take one for the team (having watched her insatiably fuck seven guys in the stockroom, I am not sure she was really minding it as much as she let on). "No, he doesn't want you. He wants Jamie." It was my mom's turn to look a little disappointed. I know being older bugged her sometimes but a lot of my friends ASKED to rent here because she is a MILF. It wasn't just that she was the second choice because Jamie was already taken. I should probably tell her that (After the training is over). I don't want her to get a big ego and undo all the humility training we've been doing. My Dad went back to let Buddy know it was 'no dice' and he looked disappointed but didn't keep asking about it. We stood at the counter and watched the girls walk back and forth to bring all the stuff inside, teasing them to 'shake it' and 'get a move on' They obliged good naturedly. I asked my father why he had let Jamie call him 'Dad' and not punish her. "Son, the weeks we were slaves to them didn't add up to all the torment we've put them through today. Don't tell your mother and sister that but I figure hell, she deserves one vent ... ONE!" he held up a finger and we both laughed. Buddy recycled his joke about the women who had the whistling pussy to my father while we waited and my mom overheard us talking and even finished the punch line by sticking two fingers under her skirt and then putting them in her mouth and blowing. The mood had lightened a lot since Dragon Tattoo. I seem to remember it happening that way at the county fair after they got their whore tattoos too. Everything had become very intense and extreme and then like the sun coming out from behind the rain clouds after a storm things seemed to get airy and fun again. Buddy told my sister "You are the sluttiest virgin I've ever seen. Come see me when you grow some tits like your mother, I'll put you to work." as we left his warehouse smiling. "Okay Cow Tits and Ass Face, we'll stop on the way back and get some fast food – your choice." The girls seemed surprised we were so generous. The truth is, two weeks ago they wouldn't have been caught dead in a place that didn't sell an avocado wrap or a tofu Panini or whatever fancy food they used to eat. My mom brightened and said, "Wendy's Sir?" I slapped her ass to motivate her to hop up in the truck and said "We'll see" just to fuck with her. I was laughing because the last time we went to the Wendy's on this side of town we had handcuffed them to the dumpster and humiliated them. We put them on all fours in the back of an empty truck and drove out of that flea market. Dad and I don't talk much in the truck but I just know tweedle-twat and tweedle-cunt do in the back. I kind of envy how they seem to share the hardship together. Dad and I were doing that when the tables were turned and I think it made us grow closer together. I don't mean in the gay way like we had to masturbate right in front of each other. That was weird and we seldom ever talk about that. I mean since Mom and Jamie agreed to let us have payback we talk about how we are going to handle things with them, but that is very pragmatic - We identify the problem and then we come up with a solution. We think up new ways to torture and humiliate them and decide how that is all going to go down, but back when we were serving together I seem to remember him and I just sharing the hardship together and it building a bond between us. I don't want to switch places with them again, but I do miss that feeling. "We gonna handcuff them to the dumpster again?" I asked my dad. "Yep, why wouldn't we?" he answered matter-of-factly as if the answer should be as obvious as the sun rising in the morning. "I was just making pleasant conversation." I said quietly as he focused on the road. He didn't even notice the subtle humor of how, not very 'pleasant', making plans to handcuff your mother and sister to a fast-food dumpster and feed them cold fast food really is. You know what I said about not wanting to switch places with them? Well I take that back. I am not so sure now. ------- Chapter 8: Bill's Journal - Cheese Burger In Paradise STAR COUNT: WENDY: 51 Get out of jail cards: 1 WHORE: 5,3,0,0,1 JAMIE: 59 Get out of jail cards: 1 WHORE: 4,3,0,0,0 *Note to reader: This is Bill's journal from Sunday afternoon detailing the events of approximately 3pm when he is leaving the Flea Market. In order to increase readability, some of the dialogue exchanged was altered to appear in a 'narrative' story format. Wouldn't it be really funny if all of us were keeping journals about the same events and none of us knew the others were doing it? I think Jamie and Wendy have been typing on their phones and I don't think they are instant messaging. I've been looking the other way but maybe at some point I'll collect those phones and then I'll have all this humiliating blackmail written by them about the things they have done. It sure would make interesting reading to some pervert who found bits and pieces. I am not sure if they would enjoy mine because people probably want to know what is going on in the girls' head. All the internet fiction I ever read usually is written from that point of view. You think people give a shit about what someone who goes to all the trouble to set everything is thinking? I guess not. Then again if they are reading this then maybe so. It is not hurting anything if they are keeping journals of this experience anyway. My son keeps trying to talk to me while I formulate my thoughts about what I want to put into this fucking journal and I want to spend time with him but god-damnit, will the boy ever shut up? He wants to know if we are going to handcuff the bitches to the dumpster when we get to Wendy's? Hell my wife practically ASKED me to do it by suggesting we go back there. I can't very well disappoint that twisted bitch now can I? Besides, I love that Baconator and it is close so it fits right into my plans. I've got to hand that cunt over to Van Pewterschmidt today when we get home - that is fine by me, I am not jealous. I just want him to know I got the better sister and she is mine. The only reason she will be sucking his cock is I told her to do it and she obeys me like a good little whore. The girls did really good today. I am actually proud of them. My wife has proven she can be strong and submissive and that isn't something I thought a high powered vice president like her couldn't do. I bet she will call me and request a change of skirt tomorrow when she shits herself finding out what I have planned for her at work, ha-ha. I hate it when people write "lol". Call me old fashioned but a "Ha-ha" works just fine because I don't really believe they laughed out loud. I believe they were sitting there stone faced and thought it was funny and said "Lawl" in their head at the end of their sentence. Listen to me jabbering like Chris after he has had too many 'Pepsies'. That boy can talk – he is counting up all the stars and everything they earned so far. By my calculations, we don't have enough time to even make it to this weekend before they graduate and earn all their stars and I have to let them out of the discipline. Every time I think about this weekend I get depressed. Wendy wants to send me out to the internet users group meeting because I was planning it for months. I have tried to convince her (and myself) that I don't want to go. The thing I haven't told her is that when we moved out and stayed at that motel, the guy locked up all my stuff for not paying rent. I am a guy so other than a change of underwear, what did I take when I walked out? My old football trophies and stuff and without the game tape I won't be able to make Graymalkin eat crow at the users conference. Why else go to a boring internet forum convention if not to make the guy you argue with about sports eat his words? I want to go but only if I can do that. We are going to be lucky if we can make our house, car, credit card, light bill and whatever else Wendy didn't tell me we owe when she let me take back over the bills. She knows I hate numbers. I thought I was doing pretty good buying all that bullshit, but what good is different colored paddles and spreader bars going to do next week when these fucking cunts get all their stars and we don't own them anyway? At least I've got a brand new computer with a Nvidia 570 graphics card. You know what? I may just give Chris the better computer and I keep the one I have. He plays all the games like counter strike and I don't really have the reflexes for those FPS games like he does. He has earned it by really stepping up and acting like a man. I am not talking about just the past two weeks where he got to boss around his mom and sister. He took our moving out like a man and stuck by my side through thick and thin. He believed in me all the way when no one else really did. I used to think he was a dummy with a short attention span and that is why. He just didn't know I was a loser and he was too stupid to leave. I was wrong about him and I was wrong about myself- Bill Taylor is a winner! Oh fuck, I almost ran that red light. I need to stop trying to write this journal while I drive. Okay, I am back, where was I? Oh yeah, everyone impressed me today. My wife - she has become more submissive but still strong when she needs to be. She is compassionate and giving and she has sucked up every punishment and humiliation I can throw at her and even cracked jokes at times. She said something funny when she was at Ryang's about a broom, but I can't remember it now. I remember thinking it was clever at the time. My son – speaking of clever, what can I say? That boy has his shortcomings but he has become a man and I am definitely going to give him the better computer. I still have mine and it plays all the games I enjoy. I have to be rational and logical about it and it's not about ego. It just works out that it will be his. Besides, he is going to need something to play with when he can't play with his sister's titties anymore. My daughter – Well she is full of surprises! Today I tried to get her to tell me why she said 'That was fun' back at the t-shirt place. She genuinely sounded like she meant it and was not just doing sarcasm or gallows humor. She has a tendency to look on the bright side all the time anyway so that could be what passes for sarcasm when it comes out of her sweet little mouth. I didn't really pay enough attention to her to know what kind of sense of humor she has. She had become so much like her mom and she was always away at ballet, cheerleading, honors society and so on that I just didn't worry about her. I didn't get to know her either and I kind of regret that because now that I am seeing her blossom into a woman it is as my slave. I fucked my daughter in the ass today. I fucked my daughter in the ass today. God damnit, another fucking red light. If we get pulled over, I am going to have a tough time explaining those two cunts on all fours in the back. Okay, now I'm not going to win father of the year. I have spanked her, made her play with herself, suck me off and punished in her ways that unless I re-read the journal I may not even remember but I felt like maybe I crossed a threshold today when I stuck my dick into that sweet little asshole of hers. I can't help but picture a clean, pink tunnel that is invitingly asking me to stick my dick into it. There is something so taboo about owning a woman where she poops. I can't forget the Sam Kinison routine "You can touch me here, and here, and here, and there, but NOT THERE!!!!" I've got to show that to Chris some time. That kid has the internet, he has probably already seen it – classic. Anyway, yes I was thinking about how far Jamie came today and I ended up beating myself up for plugging her asshole. It has been on my mind all day and I don't' really have anyone I can unload on. I could tell Chris but then he may think I am weak? Men don't talk about feelings and all that other bullshit – he needs to learn that. I don't even feel comfortable writing a journal about my internal monologue but I think I've evolved over the last few weeks and I should take stock of my thoughts. Okay, you know that is bullshit. I have grown and change in the last few months but I am not going to lie to myself. I've just got to brag about how fucking awesome it is when everything FITS INTO PLACE! Chris already knows and if I go telling everyone all the details of everything it might just bite me in the ass so this is the one place I can be completely fucking honest. So yeah, I admit it. Wouldn't you want to tell someone if your wife and daughter were your obedient little whores? I am just going to keep acting like it is no big deal I fucked Jamie because if Wendy or Jamie was going to stop this they would have today. They are both completionists and if I keep my end of the deal they will keep their ends up in the air for me and Chris to kick until the 100th star. I thought Jamie was going to stand up to me right before we left Flea World. She spoke up and after she went over all the many ways she had been spread and buttered and mostly at my order I thought about backing down. That is the old Bill and I've got to be like Ryang. He doesn't look like he ever doubts himself. He had his teenage daughter under some kind of discipline and I bet that girl won't be able to earn her way out with stars or anything like that. Then again I like giving them a goal to strive towards to prove they have been reformed and paid their dues. I want to go back there again and bring a copy of my rules for Ryang to read. I bet he'll think I am crazy for putting so much thought into it. I can't help but think about me even though I started out trying to take stock of the changes in my family. I know I've changed at least on the outside. I feel like everyone in the family just accepts me as the leader and doesn't question me and I want to keep that going for as long as I can. The key is not to let them know you have self-doubts. It was so much easier when I didn't get so introspective. I didn't have so much to lose when I accepted I was out of work, out of shape, out of touch and losing my hair. I would just jack off during the day to some porn and watch a little TV, play a few computer games. I feel like now if anyone finds out I am not the bad-ass I let on to be, then will I lose everything I gained as head of my household? Then again maybe this is how all leaders feel at some point – like a fraud who just lucked into their position. I bet even President Obama wakes up and says, "I am not even from this Country, how can I keep tricking these people into thinking I know what I am doing?" I bet if Graymalkin saw me write that he would have some bleeding heart liberal crap to say about George Bush. I haven't even checked the forums (much) since this training has started and you know what? Oh damn, there is Wendy's. I'll pull right in front so that the people inside will see the bitches getting off the back of the truck. "You got the handcuffs, son?" "Do Murlocs go warraggarrabbbllllll?" Chris answered. "I guess they do." I knew he was talking about World of Warcraft but I like to play it cool like I am above all that joking stuff most of the time. We took our time getting out of the truck so they could anticipate what we are going to do. I like to let the two of them talk it out. I could gag them but then they can't make each other wet with anticipation, ha-ha. You see I didn't write Lol? Fuck Lol and fuck people who say Lol when they are writing a journal. "You two cunts hungry?" I actually wasn't all that hungry but I knew Chris probably was. "Yes Sir" Came their answer almost in unison. They've got the psychic powers of god-damned twins at times. "Well then get your fat asses off the truck." I made the two of them jump off the back of the truck in broad day light in front of the fast food chain because it amuses me to see their tits bounce. I didn't realize I'd have the added pleasure of the weight on their clit rings causing them discomfort when they landed. "Oh quit your bitchen, we're hungry." I led them over to the dumpster as if that was a forgone conclusion and they followed like little lemmings ready to walk off a cliff. "You know why you two dumpster bitches have to wait out here don't you?" "Yes Sir, Taylor men rule and Taylor women drool." Wendy was the first one to answer and I smiled (just slightly, I don't want her thinking it is that easy to impress me.) "You are finally learning, now hand over your skirt Cow Tits." My wife didn't hesitate to step out of her little mini skirt. "Ass face you can take your shirt off, and stand their naked since you don't have a skirt." I was lying, I had brought her extra skirt home but she was still wearing that hilarious 'milk-milk' shirt. "Sir, if my slut daughter is naked can I also remove my top before you cuff us to the dumpster?" "Who said I was going to cuff you to the dumpster?" She knew better than to anticipate my orders. I could see the look in her eyes that she knew she 'dun goofed'. "I am just fucking with you bitch. Yes you can get naked, and yes we are going to cuff you to the dumpster." See? I can joke when I want too. I had them hug each other tightly, wearing only their heels and collars, and then cuffed their arms around each other so they were locked in an embrace. "Hang around" I joked again. "Dad, I did that joke already today." Chris laughed at me "Oh, they say when you get old two things start to go. Your memory and I can't remember the other thing." I think I've told him that before but I can't remember, lol. Oh shit, I meant ha-ha, anyway. We left the two love-birds hugging outside and I went in to see if Reggie, the kid who had come outside and fucked my wife the last time I was here, was working. If my memory is so bad, why is it I can remember the kid's name and exactly what it looked like when he brought that chocolate dick in and out of my wife's face and the look of complete subjugation in her eyes as she looked to me for approval for being such a nasty whore. I had meant to give them a little speech about having to learn team work and that is why I left them out hugging each other tit to tit but I was too excited to see if Reggie was working. Chris and I approached the counter and ordered Baconator meals for ourselves and Jr. cheeseburgers for them. "Let's get a water for them to share with two straws." Chris liked to make suggestions and I liked to agree with them. The truth is, I usually didn't care about details like this. We made a great team because he liked to think up insidious little humiliations that might not sound like much but when you do them all day long to someone, they really are probably very grueling. I would not know, but I'll ask my wife when this is all over, ha-ha! (See I didn't forget that time, I am 40, not senile!) I asked if Reggie was working but he wasn't there, which was disappointing. Now I was going to have to pick some other teenage kid to have his mind blown by my daughter and wife. Chris and I ate and made small talk about what we were going to do. I told him to scan the place for someone who works there that we could bring back to the dumpster to fuck with them. "You think with all they have been through, they'll be as worried about what one stranger thinks?" Chris had a good point. Last week, yes they were in tears and all a flutter, but after getting electrocuted on stage, this may be anti-climatic. "We could just go home and leave them at the dumpster for a few hours." "Dad, you are a fucking sadist!" Chris almost choked on his Dr. Pepper. "Still mixing every flavor of soda in your drink?" He smiled, "I haven't done that since I was six!" as he took another drink. It is funny the things you remember so well from the past and the things your brain won't let you hang on to that just happened. "Well we could just go out there and hand-feed them then." I told my son "You make it sound like that is boring." Chris answered with a smirk on his face. "Hey, I don't know how long before your mom and sister earn their freedom, so we should probably enjoy it while we can." I told him, taking another juicy bite of a delicious double-burger with extra cheese and bacon. "You don't want this to end do you, Dad?" Chris asked me. Here we go, now we are talking about 'feelings' and I told you already I was trying to teach him that isn't how men do it. Then again I was curious what he thought too, "Who would want it to end? Your mom and sister sucking our dicks, cleaning the house, can't tell us what to do." "What if we came to them and told them we didn't want it to end?" Chris sounded serious. "I think they would say what I asked your sister when she told me she wanted something -How does it feel to want?" I laughed out loud. "How about if we came to them and told them we'd let them out of the 100 stars early, if they will agree to some permanent rules around the house about us being the boss, and treating us with respect." Chris asked. "Go on?" I was intrigued. This was not feelings talk, this was planning! "We could write up a whole new set of rules, that aren't nearly as hard. Jamie and Mom have to be naked at home and call us Sir, but they can sleep in their own beds, and they can still be spanked for insubordination but no more hog tying and Waxerman enemas." "Oh c'mon? If we are going to do this, surely we have to put in a clause that when that wrinkled old bitch shows up they have to strip down and go to code white." I absolutely love seeing them at code white where they have to push Waxerman's buttons and make her think they are these wicked bitches who deserve punishment. I should have told Jamie to go to code white today when I was talking to Ryang. He didn't' seem to think she had done enough to warrant her treatment, at least at first. I will have to remember to use those codes more often. "How about if we compromise with them? When Waxerman comes over some of the time, you and I go into code white and act like we are constipated and beg for the enema and then the other half they have to do it?" He asked. I was perplexed and I looked at my son for a long time before taking another savory bite of my Baconator. "Son, they haven't even heard our demands and you are already compromising with them? Do you have any idea how painful those enemas probably are?" "That is my point exactly! They would respect us more if we endured them too. Then we'd have a better appreciation for how bad they have it, and they'd know we wouldn't sentence them to things that even we wouldn't endure." I never heard him ask to mow the grass in close to eighteen years. He was now asking to get naked in front of Mrs. Waxerman and be treated like the girls? "Son, we did get a taste of what we are giving them? Don't you remember when your mom used to make us dance around the living room and slap our dicks together?" He hushed me because I was talking a little louder than I thought I was. I was thankful considering the old woman nearest to us in the dining room, gave me a dirty look. "You said yourself today that Jamie endured more in one day today with electrocutions and all that than we did for the month of our training." "You have a good point Son, and I'll think about that but what you may be forgetting is your sister has probably been kicked out of school. What am I going to do with her if we go to this new, kinder rules?" "You'll still be the boss at home. It's just she won't have to be in the backyard barking like a dog with Rosco." "You don't want to see her in the dog house with Roscoe?" I asked him skeptically. "Okay, that would be funny!" He smiled, "But if we don't make the offer soon then they won't have much reason to accept because they are more than half way done." He reminded me. "We could slow down the opportunities to get the final stars?" I suggested. "Don't you remember bringing that up when we first started that? We talked about some of the things they may try to pull on us to get out of this, like pretending to love everything we did to them so we'd lose interest?" Chris nodded his head up and down as if that would jog my memory. "And then you suggested we'd slow down the stars or even take some back and I told you that would only make them quit trying once they knew the game was rigged?" I honestly didn't remember him saying that but that was a good point. My daughter and wife are try-hards who will stick to their guns, but if they knew we cheated they wouldn't feel obliged to continue to play. "Your mom has some surprises in store for her at work tomorrow, I worked really hard to set those up and I can't picture her reverting back to normal there." I explained. "She has to go back to normal some time?" Chris asked. "Nah, she is probably going to get fired before long and have to find another job. Then she could go back to normal but your mom has been a hard core slut at work and there is no way she can stop without all the handlers blackmailing her to stick with it." "Wait, I thought mom had the exact same rules at work as Jamie does at school?" "No, I let her trade a few rules around. In a business environment if she called people Sir and Ma'am as their boss they would find that weird or demeaning at best. So in return I had her step things up around work." That was true, but there was much more to it than that. I had made an unwritten deal with Wendy that she had to be a total slut at work and purposely get less stars than Jamie and in exchange, I would not fuck Jamie or make it so brutal on her. Wendy was going to have to finish last after her daughter so that we did not take out our frustrations on Jamie alone as part of the deal. Chris can't know about the deal because then he will think I am not being equal with him and he wouldn't trust me but it is better for everyone this way (except Wendy I guess). I just realized that Wendy's memory must be bad too because I fucked my daughter up the ass today and she didn't say that the deal was off. Then again she IS a woman and she never forgets anything. It was possible that they had come so far in their training, my wife realized it was an inevitability this would happen, but my mind was reeling with possibilities. "Listen, we should probably go check on them. You kept their cheeseburgers warm?" I asked my son. He produced two kid sized cheeseburgers he had been sitting on the entire time we were talking, "Right here" I grabbed some cold fries and their drink (since they were going to share it) and asked, "Did you season them with your special cheese?" He lifted a butt cheek to rip another fart and agreed, "You know I did". Then he took a bite out of one which made me just shake my head. He was grinning as we walked out to check on the girls. They were huddled together naked the way I had left them and as far pulled back as they could be from the dumpster. There is something so erotic about two beautiful naked women handcuffed together in an embrace outside with their muscles taut and a sheen of fear sweat glistening off their bodies. I just made the connection that I think I like dominating a woman's asshole because it is a taboo thing you are told you cannot or should not do (by women who don't want you to do it to them). With the fact, this is a mother and her daughter in the embrace. There is something that makes their hugging each other cheek to cheek and tit to tit, naked outside, handcuffed and vulnerable that much sweeter. It is the same idea of taboo that most women aren't going to do it (even though they would with other women). Then again I did NOT like the taboo of being tied up next to my son. As we approached the dumpster I had the uneasy feeling the girls weren't just trying to stay as far as away from the rotten dumpster smell as possible. I had visions of a crazed homeless man with a knife holding them hostage and they being too scared for their own lives to warn us as we walked up. It was just a raccoon skittering around their feet that was sending them in a helpless tizzy, 'Oooh eek! Get it Sir!' okay they didn't say 'eek' but they were freaking out about it. "You think he prefers the stink of your rotten piss holes to his dumpster?" I laughed at them and chased him away with the jangle of my keys. "What would you two dumb cunts do if you didn't have us to take care of you?" I was kidding but my wife agreed and said "Thank you Sir, you saved us twice today." "Twice?" I replied skeptically "Yes Sir, just now and when we were on the electric chair. Thank you for being our white knight!" "The way I remembered it, you two were flashing your tits on an electric chair when you should have been turning tricks. I punished you by having him up the settings and shock the shit out of you. You were giving little glimpses and glances up your precious skirts but I made you expose yourself like the little tramps you are. Do you cunts need an affirmation or are you ready to stop babbling and eat?" I thought that sounded pretty good. "Can we do both Sir? It has been a while since my last affirmation." Wendy and Jamie were getting energized from the affirmations and saw them as a regular ritual. Do you know I got the idea from Stuart Smalley, "I am good enough, I am smart enough and dammit, people like me." I didn't have the heart to tell them the technique that worked so well in making them think about the things they say and do and reinforces their training started out as a bad Saturday Night Live skit. My son was holding two half-eaten Jr. cheeseburgers and he tag-teamed back into the conversation, "Let me butter their bread first, Dad. Are you two bitches thankful we saved you some delicious fast food?" He held it under their nose tempting them with the smell (but not mentioning he farted on them before we left). "Yes Sir, it is better than bitches like us deserve." My wife answered him. I decided to get out my cell phone camera to record this one. "Damn, skippy it is," Chris licked the palm of his hand and wiped it on the buns and then stuffed a cheeseburger between the cracks of their ass. "Butt-ter that bread, you two tight asses better clench because if it hits the ground you'll be eating it from there." They are no strangers to eating off the floor, but usually they have polished our kitchen tile to a mirror shine. The pavement around the dumpster looked pretty disgusting. The girls tightened their ass cheeks to hold the burgers without complaint. I call them fat-asses all the time but if perfect asses magazine had a mother-daughter issue then they could be their cover girls. I am pretty sure there is probably a 'perfect asses magazine' – but if not there should be. Who buys their porn in magazines these days? Idiots. Chris hand fed the girls cold fries by putting one in Wendy's mouth and having Jamie nibble it down until their lips were touching and we alternated between them. "Were you two scared of the w'ttle raccoon?" Chris asked them both and they nodded vigorously. "So if I check your cunts they won't be wet from the excitement?" Jamie was the first to admit "Mine might be sir." Wendy was second, "Mine is, but you can't say it's from the raccoon. I am standing outside naked next to a dumpster, Sir." she made a good case but it only made us laugh at how pathetic she sounded. The parking lot was busy and someone might have heard us talking behind the vanity wall that surrounds the dumpster but I was having too much fun. I was glad Reggie wasn't with us because even though I get off on strangers reactions to my sluts I think we needed a little family fun time. I let the two of them share a cold drink of water by holding it up to their face. "Thank you Master" Wendy surprised me with that title. "I am your Master now am I?" "You are my owner, my pimp, and my husband Sir. You have been our teacher, our protector and when we are bad our disciplinarian. I think you deserve the title of Master." Jamie agreed with her mother and said it too. Chris pulled a French fry out of Jamie's mouth, "What about me?" "You are my owner, pimp and Master too, Sir." Wendy added. "That wasn't nearly as long and well thought out as the one you gave Dad," He slapped her ass cheek nearly causing her to drop the burger she was holding to eat when we gave her permission. I had to admit the boy had a point. "You are my owner, pimp, and my son Sir. You have taught me so many things I didn't realize I had to learn, and when we are bad you don't let us continue in that behavior without strong discipline. I am your three-hole slut and property Son, and I thank you for the attention and supervision you give me and my slut daughter." "That is much better, but you still aren't getting the cheeseburger before I think it's cooked enough between your ass cheeks." He smirked. There was a trace of smile on her curled lips even though they take the affirmations very seriously. I knew she thought that was funny. I love my wife's smile. It is so cute it reminds me of Jamie Lee Curtis when she flashes her dimples and it looks like she is trying to contain her laughter with it by holding her mouth closed. What was your favorite part about today, Cow Tits?" My son asked an interesting question and I was curious to hear her answer. "Serving you Master" Wendy answered like a sexy vixen. I probably would have accepted that answer on face value because it was hot. Chris slapped her on the back of the leg and grabbed her by the back of the neck, "You had better take this affirmation seriously, because I am not out here to smell this rotten garbage, let's hear a proper answer." I was surprised he seemed to be sending a mixed message that it was okay for him to joke around but not her. Then again, maybe it was just the degree of seriousness he was allowing where a little joking was okay but if she was going to vamp and not give straight answers he had to smack her back in line – smart kid. "I am sorry Master. Can you more clearly define what you mean by favorite?" Chris looked at her with a helpless shrug when she asked him that. Wendy clarified "Do you mean, what would I like to do again, or what was the most exciting and I am glad I faced it but now that it is over it is better as a memory, or what, Sir?" Chris nodded "What part was the most fun and you would like to do again?" Wendy thought about it while nibbling her fry, "Being a dumpster bitch at Wendy's and waiting for my two strong Masters to come outside and save me from the raccoon, Sir?" I believed her but Chris may have been looking for another answer. He posed the same question to his sister. "I guess I already said what was the most fun is when I was serving Chao in exchange for my nose-ring, Sir." I was surprised the girls had accepted the chains and extra piercings without putting up much of a fight. I thought we would have to go through the same family meeting time-outs we did when they got their last ones. Chris asked her to describe specifically what was so interesting about it. I kind of wanted the nose ring, but once I saw the tongue stud that looked like a tiny little cock I just knew it was perfect. I bet they didn't see that one coming? We can do nose rings another time – I knew those cunts wouldn't be satisfied unless they suffer equally and if Jamie has school and for Wendy to work, the nose rings are probably too over the top. Then again just listening to them lisp like children and the silver cock stud flash when they open their mouths to talk is going to be fun. I think we've humiliated them in how they look quite a bit and with what they say, but if you want to assault all their senses then how people hear them is yet another way. Jamie answered her brother's question about Chao, "He was very gentle with me, and he looked into my eyes longingly like I was the only woman in the world. It was very intense to be wanted so much. He licked my asshole and I begged him to fuck me there but he seemed reluctant to give me pain or discomfort and he truly wanted to serve my needs no matter how much I tried to serve his. It was a refreshing change for me, Sir." I probably should have 'probed her' more to get this answer out of her when she originally said 'That was fun' but I had already 'probed her' once today, ha-ha! "Should men want to serve your needs?" Chris asked "All men are my betters because they are born with cocks instead of piss flaps." She answered by rote because we had been drilling that in her head since we started. Then she added, "I think if he really gets pleasure out of trying to give pleasure I shouldn't deny him." "Spoken like a true brat – justifying his tending to your needs while you don't tend to his own." Chris started but then added, "But given the client wanted it, you did the right thing by offering and sucking his dick. I am glad to see you are a piss drinker now. Who wants to earn an E?" They both did naturally and beamed at the possibility of one of his contests. My wife is pretty savvy and normally skeptical about agreeing to something before knowing what the contest rules will be – the exception is when competing against her daughter. Their friendly rivalry only makes the contest that much more sweet. Even I was excited wondering what Chris had in mind. "Here, hold on to these and don't chew. I'll be right back." Chris lifted the cheeseburgers from their cheeks and then inserted the one that had been warming in Wendy's ass flaps into his sister's mouth and vise verse. They made pretty cute gags, reminded me of that duck whistle thing Ryang had. I need to get one of those, have I said that already? Chris and I closed the dumpster gate and went back inside the burger joint for a second cup of water. I called behind me, "Don't go anywhere now!" cutely mocking the two naked sluts cuffed to the metal dumpster. Chris added some ice to both cups and filled them about 10% full with orange soda. We took our time looking around the restaurant to give the girls some time to wonder what the contest would be. I asked Chris while we waited, "Your sister has to draw one correction when we get home, is that the only one we have?" "Yeah unfortunately. As usual they were both such good bitches they didn't earn anything besides low level infraction punishments." Chris smirked "We are too good to them!" We fist bumped and I added "Bro's before ho's'" before returning to the girls. Chris gave them permission to eat while he explained the rules. They had been staring into each other's eyes the whole time in some kind of staring contest. I had forgotten they couldn't talk because they had cheeseburgers shoved in their mouths like duck bills. They were both trying to keep a straight face and not drop them as they ate slow enough to keep the burger in place. "The contest rules are simple. You just have to drink a cup of orange soda the fastest." They almost seemed disappointed that there wasn't more to it. They couldn't say anything but I saw it in their faces. "Oh drat, I didn't fill the cups all the way. I don't feel like walking back, so you girls are going to supply some lemonade to fill the cups up to the brim and make it a fair contest. You cunts know how to make lemonade don't you?" I was thinking, "Life certainly has given you all enough lemons." but I didn't say it. It sounded like something corny Wendy would say. We had them continue to hug and eat but keep their legs spread apart past their shoulders width. In retrospect I like them in this position instead of standing huddled together anyway. Chris tickled his mother's asshole playfully which almost made her drop her burger and then we put the cups under their pussies like we were waiting for a 50 cent cup of hot chocolate to pour out of one of those old automatic vending machines that made it for you. "You can piss now but don't make fudge or spill any on my hands or you WILL lick it up." The girls were half-smiling and half groaning with the burgers stuffed in their mouth. Even if the tongue rings were sensitive I really didn't care and I was hoping it was fucking with their taste buds to keep them a little confused. They hadn't had a chance to even agree to the rules of the contest but it seemed like a forgone conclusion they were going to have to play along with it. If either one of them didn't want to drink, that would end the game anyway. Chris watches them piss every day in the litter box but it isn't one of my favorite things supervising their bathroom habits. I didn't really get the fascination, but watching the stream pulse out of my daughters tight little pussy from who knows where up inside her like a little jet of golden water was getting me hard. I think if any red-blooded heterosexual added to the fact she was completely naked and vulnerable with her legs spread wide apart, they would be getting aroused too. Come to think of it, I bet lesbians would be turned on by the sight of my two little sluts hugging and trying to piss while eating burgers with just their mouth in the nude. I think there is something universally erotic about the helplessness and the raw sexuality of it all that transcends the fact she was just peeing in a cup. I probably don't even do the scene justice but I will never forget the way it looked, and the looks in their eyes, my wife's pretty green eyes, with just a tiny trace of laughter lines starting around the edges, and my daughter's bright baby blues. Jamie's hamburger had finally dropped when she reached the last little bit of the crust (Which if I remember correctly, as a little girl she never ate anyway when she got them in happy meals). Her mom was still working on the rest of her bun. I detected a slight sense of satisfaction she had enough mouth control to soldier on. "Sorry Sir, for wasting the rest of my burger." She gulped now that she had let it drop. "What do you mean waste? You'll finish it after the contest." Chris could be one stone cold motherfucker when he wanted to be. I don't mean literally, because I don't think he has actually fucked his mother or his sister yet, even though he has had them suck his dick. He better get over his shyness real soon or they may stop playing our game! When we were sure they had both finished pissing, Chris poured the two cups back and forth to mix their juices until they were of equal amounts and for a final measure drew back a big gob of spit and hocked into both cups. He sealed them with a plastic lid, added a straw and asked, "You girls ready to race". I was shocked to hear the grate slide open, someone was coming in the dumpster and I didn't have a fall back plan to cover the girls. That was my own poor planning and I regretted it instantly. I had been enjoying playing it loose and on the edge and taking a risk. I think everyone was cool with that. This could be a cop or the store manager – it wasn't though. It was Reggie, the black teenager who had seen us here before, pulling a garbage can out to the dumpster. "Crackers be crazy!" He announced as he walked into the middle of our contest. "Reggie, I thought you weren't working today!" "I just got here, y'all were here a week ago right?" "You get a lot of crackers locking their wives and daughters to your dumpster do you?" Chris asked sarcastically. It did seem pretty unlikely to me he would have forgotten us and not been sure we were the same people. "You'd be surprised what I see out here and in my neighborhood." I might have been, but in the past week, meeting Ryang and Cathy Griffin and learning she had most of her cheer squad wrapped around her pinky by their sweet, teenage clits, I had seen a whole new side of things. The 'normal' people you think are your neighbors, the cop on the beat, the teacher in the school, that kindly old couple walking down the street might just have a tub full of bondage and submission sex tubs under their bed. I was very surprised to see Buddy Miller at the pool party yesterday running around in a speedo, following his daughter and Cathy Griffin around the pool like he was crazy for teenage pussy. I am sure I am not the only one who noticed my sluts weren't the only ones at the party raising eyebrows (and cocks). "You want to stay? My mom and sister were about to have a competition who could drink their piss the fastest" "I'll pass" He said as he pulled the plastic garbage can inside the dumpster with us. "They'll suck your dick after" Chris promised sweetly. "I'll stick around." I think I was the only one who caught how funny that was that he answered so quickly. "Okay, this is for an E, whichever of you two twats can finish the cup first wins!" "Reggie, you want to hold my daughter's cup?" I asked the kid. He smiled and shrugged taking the cup and putting it up to her mouth. My daughter wrapped her lips around the straw like it was some kind of dick. 'Showing off for the black guy' I thought to myself snarkily (Good thing I didn't say it out loud!) Chris held his mom's cup and gave them a count on 3. '3-2 ... peanut butter' he announced hoping he'd catch one of them anticipating the 1 count. They didn't fall for it and they both smiled at each other. This wasn't the first time he had tried that trick on them - The bitches were learning. '3-2-1' They were off slurping. My daughter scrunched her nose which is a no-no normally, but given the acrid piss in the cup, I was willing to let it slide. I normally don't let her make faces like that but in truth it is kind of hot. It reminds me of one of my first crushes and the look she gave me when I tried to touch her on the butthole, ha-ha! I started to think the two cunts were purposely drinking at the same rate in order to force some kind of tie. I was relieved to see it was just that they were both furiously sucking up their lemonade soda. "My daughter the piss drinker, I never thought I'd see it." I shook my head and Jamie spit with laughter. I expected her to react more negatively to having to drink piss than she was. I wasn't going to look too deeply into it considering she was smiling like a slut champion at the piss drinking Olympics who just won the silver medal. "No fair, Sir! You made me laugh." Her mom didn't stop sucking while Jamie commiserated her spit-take. She just looked at her daughter and kept her eye on the prize. "You betta' stop talking and start sucking" Reggie coached my daughter and she put her lips back around the straw and continued drinking the pee-cup he held for her. Reggie had a serious expression on his face which only made it seem more surreal and humorous to me. "And the winner of Wendy's Piss Like a Champion Contest is Mom, by a nose hair!" Chris held his mother's cup over her head and turned it upside down letting only a little yellow ice fall out to prove she had finished it all. My wife accepted the accolade with one of those expressions that is both gracious but smirking at the same time like 'Oh well, I just won a contest'. Reggie turned my daughter's cup over her head drenching her with the last remaining ten percent of her cup and splattering a little on all of us (including himself). "Was I not supposed to do that?" "Actually, that seems like exactly what you were supposed to do." My son told him and then asked, "So which one of these two sluts do you want to blow you first?" ------- Chapter 9: Wendy's Journal - My Confession STAR COUNT: WENDY: 51 Get out of jail cards: 1 WHORE: 5,3,0,0,1 JAMIE: 59 Get out of jail cards: 1 WHORE: 4,3,0,0,0 *Note to reader: This is Wendy's journal from Sunday afternoon detailing the events of approximately 4pm when she is leaving the Fast food place that shares her name. In order to increase readability, some of the dialogue exchanged was altered to appear in a 'narrative' story format. This summary is an excellent read if you have not read FF1-FF3 or if it has been a while and you would like a refreshing look at not only what has happened but how Wendy felt about some of it. "Bobble, Bobble Pop" I can't get that pop song out of my head that my son made us practice giving hummers to. I was using the new stud in my mouth (the silver one shaped like a dick) to tickle and pleasure the young black stud (Reggie) in my mouth and I could tell there would be one practical advantage to having this new piercing in the dick sucking department. He lasted a lot longer than I thought he would while my daughter and I kissed and coddled his cock. When he finally came it was all over both of our faces and naturally they made us lick each other clean before asking Reggie to stay and watch them get their own dicks sucked. I playfully French kissed my daughter and dabbed some of the cum back and forth so that he could see our new tongue rings. I know that sounds twisted that I was actually showing off, but I may as well 'get into' character if I am going to play a dumpster slut. Reggie was probably in trouble and like most guys, once they've finished unloading their spunk, he was done. He didn't say a word to us even as thanks before dragging his empty garbage can back out of the dumpster. I was surprised Chris didn't make us empty it for him but we were still cuffed by one hand to the dumpster itself. "Thank you Sir for letting us suck your cock!" my daughter said a little too loud for my comfort as he left. I could just picture a family of people getting out of their station wagon on the other side of the dumpster hearing that and wondering what just happened. He didn't stop to answer her unprompted politeness but Chris gave me a hard spank on the butt for it. "You should have thanked him too!" "I am sorry Sir. I was still nom-nom-nomming his salty cum." hey, if I am going to have to sound like a baby I might as well play it to the hilt. I am still not sure what I will do when I have to be in the office in the morning. The thought of pretending I had dental work done did cross my mind, but Steve would never go for that. "Would you like me to suck your dick, Master?" I asked my son just as bold as any brazen street whore could. "Should we let them?" Chris asked his dad as if it was a privilege for us to get to beg for their cocks. Bill uncuffed our wrists from the I-beam that ran across the dumpster and said "I would say no they've had enough cum, but I want to try out your mom's new tongue toy." I squatted down too quickly and the weight that has been pulling my clit completely off (feels like it) hit the ground. I made a mental note not to spring into that position as quickly again as I unzipped Bill's pants to take out his dick. I could feel my daughter's slightly sweaty back pressed to mine as she was doing the same thing for Chris. I flicked my tongue at Bill while I looked up at him to give him a preview and noted with pleasure he was already very hard. My husband isn't racist (I don't think so) but he does like to taunt me that I just sucked a BLACK guys dick. He knows I was raised with more of a taboo about that than Jamie's intercultural generation seems to have. "Did you like sucking that black guy's dick, you slut?" "Noff as muff as yours, Maffer" I was gagging around his dick thrusts and not just lisping from the new throbbing tongue ring. The hamburgers, fries and piss for that matter hadn't tasted the same as I thought it would and I suspect it is because now there is a hole in my tongue where taste buds used to be and the entire pink organ is remapping what is sour, sweet and everything in between. Steve at work has been using my mouth like a urinal for over a week and I still don't think I am still grossed out about it but Jamie gulped her glass down like a pro when we did our little 'who can drink more' race earlier. I won naturally, but she was a close second. If Bill hadn't made her giggle she might have! I am shocked she wasn't spitting and coughing or vomiting afterward. She is such a little trooper about all of this, I really admire her. I am sure I sound like a broken record at times going over everything I learned, my observations and my love and admiration for my daughter but I think some things bear repeating. The affirmations repeat over and over the same theme and the more it does the more it has this subtle influence on our thinking so why not the good stuff like my belief this arrangement has made our family stronger? I don't know if Bill knows I am journaling but I think Jamie suspects. I pray he never finds this journal because then he would just add it to the mountain of pictures and videotapes he has to blackmail me with. Could you imagine if he really did give it to my parents? I think even he knows that would break their hearts and probably erase the closeness we have been having because I am sure I would be blackballed out of my family for life after that. They love me a lot, but if they knew half of the things I did I think they would shun me. Speaking of repeating things, I should probably skip a little ahead. This is the third and more intense of all our trips to Wendy's on the poor side of town and each time it has become a little less scary to me. It should become more intense but it didn't shock me to lick up all the cum from my daughter's face or stand outside naked in a vulnerable position for close to an hour. When we got home, inspected and given our affirmations, I even mentioned how there were times I wasn't afraid and Chris and Bill just laughed. I think they take that at face value and don't realize I also mean there are times I am scared shitless. One of those times was about to happen because they dressed me in the monokini Jamie had on at the pool the day before. It felt like a Lycra shoe-string that was tied in the fold of my cunt lips and barely covered my nipples. They let me take out the weight on my clit but they didn't let me wear anything else to walk over and report to Van Pewterschmidt's house for duty. My daughter had been given the option to wear her chastity belt under a skirt. She was even told she was going to Waxerman's neighbor's house and if she didn't wear the chastity belt, playing with her pussy and ass was fair game with this client. She knew the Pooper Snooper Boy's would probably be there too and she politely declined the protection of the belt. I think in some sense of obligation she doesn't want special treatment. If she was only aware of how scared I am to walk to the neighbors in this suit then maybe she would not have agreed to walk down the block in hers. We are both being rented out for 'odd jobs' tonight to make some extra money. I am going over to our neighbor Van Pewterschmidt to report to him because I was already promised for that this morning. Chris arranged for his sister's job on our way home from Wendy's. I should say that Van reminds me of a gregarious, confident, Kevin Costner type who is very self-assured and has an edge of bad-boy. I should also say that he dated my older Sister Lisa in high school and so there is this awkward "Should I really be doing this with someone who dated my sister?" vibe to it. Even though it had been years ago and we used to have a friendly rivalry about boys, my Sister always won those competitions (she was that Blonde Barbie kind of beauty which is probably who Jamie takes after) and I was bookish and fairly flat-chested back in high school. Chris says "Van gets more ass than a toilet seat" and I know that a lot of the MARRIED housewives on my block have joked in confidence with other women that they would be interested in a fling with him. He is what you might call the 'most eligible bachelor' in Cherry Lawn Estates. Jamie was given a chance to get out of her 'correction' if she agreed to poke the hornets' nest next door at Waxerman's house and report to her to show her the new tongue piercing. I knew that would probably infuriate Waxerman and despite the fun we have shining her on in code white, I was surprised Jamie was willing to endure that alone without me there. I was afraid to go visit Van without Jamie – well that isn't exactly it. I think I've just grown so accustomed to her being close that it has given me comfort to keep her close at hand. I was given a pat on the butt and hustled out the door to report to Van. I was told not to run but to walk slowly over to his house and even though everyone saw me at the community pool the day before in a skimpy bathing suit, this made me even more aware I was basically more naked than in the one I had on the day before. He opened his door after I rang the bell and he had that cool, aloof smirk on his face as he invited me in. "Thank you Sir" "Get naked, get on all fours and clean the bathroom with your tongue, piggy!" He said quite seriously. I didn't hesitate to strip off the bikini and get on all fours while asking, "Can you lead me to your bathroom, Sir?" "Wow, you really take this seriously. I was just kidding Wendy." The way he said my first name, it sounded more alien than 'Cow Tits' did given how little I had heard it this week. He helped me off the floor, handed me my bathing suit and took me into his den. His den was decorated in mahogany and dark leathers. It looked exactly like one of those well-furnished dens in Hollywood versions of a bachelor pad mansion. "Do you want a glass of wine, Wendy?" I did but I wasn't sure if this was a test of some kind, "I am not sure if I can, Sir." "Do you report to me for the next three hours and have to do what I tell you?" "Yes Sir" "Then I want you to have a seat on my couch and have a glass of wine." I hadn't been allowed to sit on furniture for so long in a house that I really felt like I was cheating. I looked down at the expensive looking love seat and then back at him for reassurance before sitting on his couch. In my mind, I was picturing what kind of 'snail trail' I'd leave behind when I finally stood. I hate to admit it but I was wet with excitement and I didn't want to ruin his couch. I would have preferred him have me sit on the floor but I wasn't going to argue the point. As he handed me a wine flute of a dry white wine he gave me a reassuring smile, "Why don't you tell me why you are doing this?" "You chose me over my daughter to come do odd-jobs this morning, Sir." I answered him matter-of-factly. "Yes, but I've known you since grade school. You weren't always like this, why don't you start at WHY you are really doing this?" I was instantly aware that my nipples hardened around the piercings and I had a sudden dread that my tits might start to leak while I sat there on his couch debating telling him what he wanted to hear. "You can start with telling me why you and your daughter walk around naked in your kitchen in the mornings?" He had heard our affirmations this morning and I wasn't sure where to even start. "It is a long story, are you sure you want to hear it Sir?" He assured me that he had been puzzling about it all day and wanted the truth. "Wendy, I have a lawn service, a pool service and a house keeper that comes twice a week. I don't have anything for you to do, anyway." He laughed graciously. I debated suggesting he could beat or fuck me, which I think would have been preferable to revisiting the dirty details about how everything began. I cleared my throat and he refreshed my wine while I considered what I was about to tell him. I could have given him my journal to read from start to finish but I suspected he didn't want to read every little detail. Van struck me as a big picture person, at least from my experience dealing with successful male executives at work. I went back to High School when I met Bill. I told him how he had asked me out and that it had given me a lot of confidence that a Senior and a popular athlete like him had taken interest in me. Van smiled, "Full disclosure and this is ancient history, but Bill was after your sister. I asked her to prom and I think he may have asked you to make her jealous, at least that is what Lisa told me." I was surprised a guy like Van, who probably sky-dives in the Andes mountains and goes skiing in the Bahamas, even remembers trivial little rivalries from high school days. There was no hint of pettiness or that he was still carrying around any thoughts from those days in his voice, only that he thought I should know that. I told him how after school Bill worked to put me through college as we started a family and how my career took off after that when I blossomed. He looked right at my bare tits when I said that and I smiled, "Some mother nature and some plastic surgeon obviously." without trying to cover them. I was starting to feel less guarded (as I often am about talking to people about myself) - The affirmations had helped a lot in breaking me of that and the wine was not hurting. Bill started to lose his hair, and his shape, and his job, and I think his manhood along with it. At the same time I rose up the corporate ladder and became the bread winner of the family. I told him how our kids grew up while life was happening and we almost didn't stop to notice. It was as if we were on 'fast-forward' and didn't make as many family memories as we probably should have. He nodded patiently but I knew he wasn't as interested in these details. I assured him it was leading some place and he let me go on about how Jamie got absorbed in cheerleading and Chris, feeling like he was being ignored, gravitated towards nerd culture and gained weight. I had been compensating for their shortcomings to 'help' them but in a sense I was allowing Chris to be lazy and awkward by shielding him from having to face those things about himself while at the same time grooming Jamie to be a distilled version of myself only even more positive and over-achieving. I was self-absorbed with going to the gym and my career and I think I had my signals crossed some place. I had started the career so I could have a family but now I was focusing more on that than the career. My husband wasn't feeling like the bread-winner and he was growing more irresponsible because he knew I was trying to do it all for everyone. "This sounds like thousands of families who probably have the same experiences." He observed and I nodded in agreement. "A few months ago my daughter and I came to them with 'The Taylor Women's Declaration of Independence' which spelled out a list of demands that they work out, eat right, and pick up after themselves. He grinned "Cute." "Yes, and I thought fairly harmless but one thing led to another and he eventually moved out with Chris for a little while." "Oh, I am sorry to hear about that." "When he came back it was raining and I told him to get out of his wet clothes and I think if I had to trace it back to where things got weird ... that was it." "That does sound like it would get a little weird." He had a way of actively listening to me that made me feel like telling him more even though he seemed to be getting it. I told him that it blossomed from that moment because we wanted the guys to see how far and out of shape they were so we insisted they keep looking at themselves naked. I once had an all female nude aerobics class that was supposed to encourage us all to be aware of our muffin-tops and physical short-comings so we would want to work on them. "We had also found porn and lots of it on Bill's computer." "That isn't that unusual, if you looked at mine you might even see a naughty picture or two." he said in an understanding and nonjudgmental way as he refilled my wine glass. I didn't want to get drunk and make any mistakes but the wine was good and I was feeling stone cold sober. "These were of Jamie's friends and it turns out they came over as part of a dare from one of the girls at school and modeled for him, which is why Bill originally bought this monokini." I held up the skimpy bathing suit. "Is that what you call it? I was thinking it was dental floss, please continue." I went into how the requirements became more punitive and grew in a perverse way. I started making them dance around naked in the living room and paddling Bill as I became drunk on the power I had over them and lost sight of why I started to try to improve them in the first place. I hadn't realized it wasn't my place to 'improve' them anyway. They were still sneaking looks at their computer and masturbating anyway, so I decided to make them masturbate right in front of me at set times of the day so they would not sneak around and do it behind my back. I became so controlling that I wanted them to be soft because they were easier to control. Van's face twisted into an uncomfortable smile. He didn't see me as the villain in all of this and I knew it was shocking to hear all the details. I told him how everything came to a head at a party I was planning to humiliate them at when we were confronted by one of Jamie's friends from school who knew all our nasty deeds. We had sent Chris with her one afternoon to serve her every little whim. He told her everything that had been going on which she used to help them turn the tables on us. I could tell he wasn't sure how they had and I explained that they had some dirty secrets on us that we would have rather no one find out but it was more than that -I could have lived with scandal. Jamie and I agreed that it was only fair if we gave them some payback and so to be good sports we agreed to let them do to us what we did to them. I was surprised how simple the reason for my submission was now that I heard myself say it out loud. My explanation (confession) was working a little like an affirmation and it only made me open up a little more about details. We had been meanie-butts to the guys and now they were able to be meanie butts to us. We had evolved our rules over time but it had been all my idea and they had been completely innocent – there only crime was simply not living the way I thought they should. The funny thing is I really DID want them to be that helpless because part of me wanted to take care of them and make excuses for them. We volunteered to give them this payback, at first to hold the family together so there could be closure, but we were being more than just good sports about it for their sake – we were cleansing our own guilt for it in an act of contrition. "You never sent Bill or Chris over here to clean my bath-tub naked!" He chided me that they hadn't had to serve the exact same way we did as payback. "If you had, I think I would have sent them back home." I held up my hands to indicate my trim figure and answered, "Would making us work out and eat right really be that hard?" He shook his head no and I explained how the rules were changed to make the payback more applicable to our own shortcomings and not theirs. We were also supposed to amuse them and that meant the training changed. "Had I never kept them naked and spanked them, and tied leashes around their dicks, they probably would never have wanted this kind of payback." I admitted. He laughed out loud at the leashes on the dicks. There was quite a bit I was leaving out of our little family feud and he still thought I was a pretty nice person in an impossible position. I tried to explain how I had impossible expectations of myself and that I was enabling their dysfunctional behavior. "We were four people living in the same house, but leading four separate lives." He just nodded. I told him about "Bill's Bill" and how Bill had stepped up to write an organized set of limits and responsibilities to his authority and how we had carefully considered and even negotiated and eventually agreed to do this until we earned one hundred stars. "So how many stars do you get for coming over here?" He sipped his own wine. "I think it depends on if you fuck me or not, Sir." I smiled coyly. It was reassuring when he broke his cool for just a second when he choked a little on his wine. "About two weeks ago we started down this path and it has slowly evolved and snowballed to where we are now." He wasn't satisfied with leaving it there and he pressed me for more details. I told him how many stars I had left to earn and all about how the WHORE letters worked as a way to give us smaller incentives to demonstrate certain techniques. I told him how they sent us outside to 'tan' in the backyard naked and the Waxerman boys (Who I called Pooper Snoopers at the time because I didn't know they were her nephews) had watched us. "Oh yeah, I saw you out there, but then I think I saw Chris and Bill out there?" He laughed. "Why didn't you say anything?" "Stop two attractive women from sunbathing nude in their backyard? Do you even know me?" He laughed at that. "I didn't sit out there and stare or anything, but yeah I looked out my window every now and then. I didn't know they were making you do it." I told him how Mrs. Waxerman, the neighborhood busy body, had come over and we would shine her on as part of 'white alert'. "Yeah, she is a busy body. I like how she pretends she doesn't approve of spreading rumors, but then she tells you one right after." He laughed. I could tell given his reputation he was probably the subject of many of her torrid rumors. "I like the traffic light system of red for more discretion and green for less, what was the pool party?" "Yesterday's pool party was green light, Sir" He asked why I wasn't completely naked the entire time and I explained the difference between green light public and in private and how with a single word Bill could give us all a heads up on how strict or loose the protocol was. He asked me how I made it through work and I told him he had found a handler in a young executive I worked with to keep an eye on me and how I thought I would probably get fired. I also mentioned how I had tricked one of my biggest rivals to report to him and ask for the same treatment and he laughed, "Maybe I was wrong about you, you are really wicked after all." I told him how my daughter had it just at bad at school and Chris and that girl who knew our dirty little secrets would tag-team her to make it a living hell. "You know I've heard of Cathy Griffin, I seem to remember meeting her father once. That is one dude you don't want to mess with." He also told me he had rumors of cheerleaders at school that did slutty pranks, hazings and initiations for years and that this wasn't anything too new. He didn't seem to be all that shocked to hear any of this. "Bill and Chris had been training us for a while and things seemed to change when we went to the County Fair." I tried to put into words how things seemed to come full circle when we got there, and I started to realize that we were learning things about ourselves we had not understood. Bill wasn't perfect but he was becoming a leader, Chris was gaining confidence and Jamie and I were surprisingly learning something too. "Isn't it weird though, letting your son see you naked?" I giggled because there was so much worse he had seen and made me do than just my tits and ass. "They can type anything into the internet and see boobs. I did have to get over my shyness quickly though." "You certainly did." He looked at me appreciatively, drinking in my nudity. It was a stark contrast to him being fully dressed right across from me. "It does seem like a taboo to serve my son and to serve alongside my daughter, but Chris has actually made it kind of fun at times with his sense of humor. Even though it wasn't Jamie's idea to make the guys serve, she did help and I couldn't imagine doing this without her." He nodded but I wasn't sure he understood. He seemed to be processing my words as he prodded me to tell him more about the fair. I told him about the details like Madam Chang's, when we danced in body paint and Medieval Steve's pillory where people could chuck tomatoes at us and he just laughed that it sounded like a "Girls Gone Wild" DVD. The part I focused on was the tattoo and piercings and how we decided it was a sign of contrition. "It seems pretty extreme. Do you mind letting me see it again?" I smiled demurely at him like he was being forward and he politely added if I wanted to. I turned to face away from him on the couch and straddled my stomach over the back to pull my ass cheeks far apart and not obstruct the tattoo. "I am told it isn't exactly identical to my daughters but it is pretty close, go ahead and have a good look." I couldn't see his facial expression but his voice remained calm and slightly amused. He said nothing about the word WHORE on my ass, he only commented on the intricate flourishes and themes that decorated all the lettering. "It looks like you have some new piercings?" "Yes sir, we got that at flea world today." He chuckled, "Wow, you are convinced you need to make it up to them, but you didn't do anything to me, so why are you letting me see you this way?" "I was ordered by my trainers to come over here and serve you, because it amuses them to see me do it and we need the money. You are my better and if it amuses you to look at my ass and pussy, you can look for as long as you like. It isn't a special flower, it is just an ass and everyone has one Sir." I answered calmly but I had been dredging up thoughts of my past deeds and my eyes were a little glassy from refreshing my memory about the reason I am in this situation. He asked me if I preferred to sit back down and I told him, "I should probably be on my knees at your feet, Sir." "If you want too." I wish he hadn't said that because then it is all my idea and makes me feel weird. He had left it totally open to me and I decided to do what Bill and Chris would want me to do. That seemed to make the most logical sense (and was the best way to justify my submissive behavior). I got off his couch after wiping off my 'sweat' from the couch (okay -pussy trails) with my hand and kneeled on the Oriental rug beneath his feet. "Feel more at home this way?" "Yes Sir" I honestly did feel like after just a short two weeks I had grown to accept my place was down on the floor. "What will you do when you earn the 100 stars?" I hadn't thought about that beyond the abstract of being excited I accomplished my goal and completed my personal mission. "You mean the first thing I will do?" I was thinking about whether I'd take a bath (ALONE), eat some chocolate or go shopping for some clothes since all I had left were the slut wear. "Will you still feel like your place is beneath the feet of your betters?" I didn't want to answer that question and I nervously became guarded again. I changed the subject to tell him how after the fair, Bill went on a buying spree at a porn store and my daughter did her 'cunt stunt' at half-time. "I was there that night, I remember seeing her dancing around but I assumed she had on a sports bra or something under the body paint - That is funny." He let me off the hook and didn't pursue his question as I continued on, leading him up to the pool party yesterday and the revelation we had a shortage of cash and how we pitched in at the flea market. I went into a great deal of detail about the events of today because it was so fresh in my mind as I prepared myself mentally to add these things to my journal as well. I wanted to keep the timeline fresh in my mind. The entire story only took about an hour to tell and now that he had heard it he took another sip of his wine and asked me, "What do you want to do now?" I didn't have an answer for that because I was so used to submitting, being asked what I wanted was usually only so Chris could say, "Well, how does it feel to want?" Van could see that I didn't have an answer and he added, "You know I am really jealous of your husband." I knew Bill was jealous of Van in a lot of ways for keeping his physique and being so successful. Van explained how he had never married and he wished he had a wife who was as understanding and as willing to do whatever it takes to stay together, even go to this extreme. Awww – he just earned big brownie points with me on that one. Van is one of those guys who seems to know a little bit about everything. He is well travelled, handsome and you just kind of wish he had a flaw to bring him back to Earth, but he just seems like such a nice guy. "You know I would have thought your sister might have been into something like this but not you." "Lisa?" I was shocked. She had been a prom queen, head of the cheerleaders and one of those type-A personalities who never breaks a nail. I had a hard time picturing that but Van explained, "Well at least to do the first part of your story, and take charge." I agreed with him. "Could I take a few pictures of you? Would that be cool? I don't know what the rules are." Van said, sensitive to the fact I didn't want my photo everywhere. There had been cell phone pictures of me taken in malls and the county fair and at the flea market so it really was kind of a moot point. "If you aren't sure if it's allowed you can call Bill or Chris, I think they are home playing video games this afternoon Sir." I answered him in more of a detached businesslike manner than I had wanted. "Let me get my Camera." He stood to walk out of the den and I asked if I should follow him. "Sure" He didn't tell me to crawl or walk, and when I saw he wasn't going to, I stood up and walked after him leaving my bathing suit in the den. I had spent almost all of my time in our house completely naked but there is a small rush to traipsing around someone else's house completely naked. There is a 'newness' and perhaps a little bit of a 'I probably shouldn't be doing this' to it. His camera was one of those digital cameras that look like the old professional 35mm ones. The tiny one in Bill's phone takes HD movies at 10 megapixels (I know because it used to be my phone) so I can't even imagine what Van's beast of a camera is for. He started me out playfully posing and then asked me to do some 'slave poses' so I did position one, two and squat for him. He had seen them at our house so it wasn't very shocking and he made it very easy to feel sexy instead of humiliated while I took the shots. I vamped it up a little and pouted out my lips as I got into it. I showed him how I was learning to move a bottle with my tits and take it to another part of the room. He seemed to be amused but after fifteen minutes he had run out of ideas and photographed every part of me. "I was just about to enjoy some dinner, do you want to join me?" He asked. I wasn't going to turn him down. Steak, pan fried potatoes with bacon and onion, corn on the cob, with cheese cake for desert! It looked delicious and I was famished. Van was quite the cook. I squatted down on the ground near his kitchen table and waited for him to hand feed me or set out a plate. He laughed and set the plate on the table, "Would you prefer to eat at the table?" A part of me felt really guilty about it, but that part was told, "Quiet down you bitch, I am hungry!" by the part of me that was interested in that juicy steak dinner. I didn't even have time to thank him as I sat down to have what felt like the most satisfying meal I could ever remember. We ate, had good conversation and I completely forgot I was naked and wearing a dog collar. He turned the topic to high school nostalgia, current events and I could see why he was considered so charming. When he gave you his full attention you really did feel special. Our three hours were almost up and he said "Well, I am sorry I ran out of time, should I spank you or anything before I send you home?" I thought about saying yes, because it was dawning on me that while I had been here enjoying his company and farting around, my daughter was probably in much greater peril over at the Waxerman house. I also thought about asking him to because I thought Chris and Bill would be disappointed when they found out I hadn't been run through the ringer. "Do you think I was a bad girl, Sir?" I asked him pouting my lips and vamping like I was modeling for his camera. "No, you were perfect. Here you might need this." I was almost about to walk out of his door completely naked. The bathing suit didn't do all that much to cover me but I was thankful and told him so as I stepped into it. He did make me nervous and I felt silly for my mistake. "This was fun. You made me miss the old days, Wendy Dubois." "It's Taylor now, that is my married name Sir." "So it is. Tell Lisa I send my best wishes." He said as I stepped out the door and sauntered back over to our house. As I expected, when I walked inside, the guys were playing World of Warcraft or some computer game together in the living room. I stripped and announced, "I am home, Sirs!" without waiting to be told I got on all fours and crawled over to Bill. He pat me on the head as I sidled up to his leg, "Was he rough on you, Cow Tits?" he said while focusing his attention on clicking on buttons on his computer screen while he fought trolls and orcs virtually. "He was actually much easier than you are Sir." I wasn't lying "Did he fuck you?" Bill asked brusquely - he was still engrossed in his game. "No Sir, it never came up." "Didn't you ASK?" Bill's voice went up along with the intensity of his game. Chris was chiding him to "Heal" and Bill was telling him he was out of mana while holding the conversation with me. "No Sir, I thought I was just supposed to clean up for him?" "You fucking lazy whore, you need to fuck whoever will have you, we are totally broke." I could have taken Bill more seriously if he would unglue his eyes from the computer screen to tell me how bad things are financially. "Would you like me to go back, I will ask him Sir?" I tried to eliminate any passive-aggression from my voice and sound as submissive as I could. I hate to admit this but Jamie is my role-model for how to deliver a question without inferring I don't actually want to do it. "No, it is too late for that. I want you to go get the Bengay and rub your cunt down with it, then ... Chris help me out here?" "Get a big dildo and shove it up her ass?" My son suggested while engrossed in the on-screen computer battle. "No, I mean with Mogaine, you aren't holding aggro, Son!" Bill admonished my son about something in the game and then instructed to me, "But yes, good idea. Go find the largest dildo you can after that and shove it up your ass, then report back here - I'll check and if it's not big enough I'll use a broom handle!" "Should I crawl, Sir?" "No, you should jog," He said sarcastically before clarifying "Yes, you are a fucking house pet, even walking around here is a privilege to good for nothing whores like you and your daughter. Now hurry before I decide to add something else." It was strangely satisfying to be ordered around in the way I had grown to expect. I crawled off with a smirk on my lips that he couldn't see and he added, "When your slut daughter walks in, we have plans for you two cunts." I thought to myself "I am sure you do Sir, I am sure you do." as I crawled off to find that awful Bengay and the 8 inch jackrabbit with the pearls Bill bought the night before. Do I have Stockholm syndrome where I identify with my tormentors or am I a glutton for punishment or is it that these hormones have me so confused I don't know what I am doing? Can it really just be that I appreciate the routine and accept my role now under the discipline of my husband? I had just had a three hour 'break' from reality, but now it was time to get back to work and take my medicine. ------- Chapter 10: Jamie's Journal -Old McDonald Had a Farm STAR COUNT: WENDY: 51 Get out of jail cards: 1 WHORE: 5,3,0,0,1 JAMIE: 59 Get out of jail cards: 1 WHORE: 4,3,0,0,0 Note to reader: This is Jamie's journal from Sunday afternoon detailing the events of approximately 4:30 pm when she is walking to her first 'odd job'. In order to increase readability, some of the dialogue exchanged was altered to appear in a 'narrative' story format. "Alright Stinkerbell, you know what to do?" Chris asked right before I left our house dressed in a blue two piece swimming Brazilian thong swimsuit that left very little to the imagination. "Yes Sir, I am to report to Mr. Hooker and obey him for three hours as my handler, and then report to Mrs. Waxerman and tell her what I did at the flea market wrong and say that my Father left my punishment up to her." I've been riding a roller coaster ride for the last two weeks that feels like it is going straight down. At times I have to admit to a certain amount of exhilaration as to the wind pushes past my cheeks. There are other times where I am scared and afraid the ride is never going to stop and there are there times like this one. I wasn't afraid and I had almost fallen into a routine where my brother is sending me out the door and while he is laughing at increasingly humiliating me I am just nodding and going along with it. Am I a good sport who is accepting rightful payback? Am I enjoying this? Am I just continuing it because my mom is doing it or because I gave my word or because I have grown accustomed to it? I really don't know if the answer is D) All of the above at different times. I could have opted to draw a correction card from the 'funishment' fishbowl and follow the instructions but I decided to take my changes with Waxerman. I was probably going to regret that decision later, it was kind of a 'the devil you don't know, versus the devil you do.' "What did you do to deserve punishment, Ass Face?" Chris questioned me. "I didn't shit when I was given an opportunity and then fifteen minutes later I texted for permission, Sir" He was talking to me like I am a precocious child, and I could answer with this baby talk like lisp thanks to the tongue ring – Aren't they supposed to make you feel cool and sophisticated? Hey Mr. Ryang, your product is defective. "And?" he was waiting for more. I am slipping I know I am supposed to give complete answers, Chris was right for prodding me to be more forthcoming. "And, I shit in a puddle behind one of the stands at the Flea Market, Sir" I knew he was laughing not only at my lisp but the visual of me squatting in front of a bunch of people and taking a shit. I was positive Chris was implying I should make that sound like it was my idea to do and not his order. He slapped me on my ass and gave me a 'good girl' the way he did mom and sent me down the street on my own to walk to my 'odd job'. "Come Back with an ass full of cum, and we'll talk about more stars!" I wasn't sure if he was talking to me or Mom but I just smiled and waved as if he were telling us 'Good luck'. It amazes me that such a disgusting suggestion has me wondering just how much it would take to fill up my ass, and how I could do it if I am supposed to squat right after I get fucked and let it drain out. I do that with everything – if a teacher gives me an extra credit assignment I am already thinking about what books I need to read in order to finish it and how long it is going to take to complete compared to how many extra credit points it is going to give me. He had called up Mrs. Waxerman's neighbor and offered to rent me out to him after he expressed an interest in me mowing his lawn and doing odd jobs for him. If this worked out it would be a good way for me to contribute to the house. I was told if I don't wear a chastity belt he can play with my pussy and ass but if he wants more I have to tell him he has to pay an additional twenty for me to suck his dick and fifty to fuck me in the ass. The part that makes it very weird is that he seems like such a nice, kindly gentleman I can't picture him doing any of that to me. I think there is this apprehension about walking to one's doom but what is worse is walking towards the unknown situation like this. It was a nice sunny day and people were out jogging and biking. Several cars slowed down to check me out and I got several odd side long glances from people as they passed me on the sidewalk but no one questioned me. I thought that was strange considering how completely out of place I looked wearing only a string bikini in middle-America suburbia. I don't know if I expected the cops to pull over with sirens and say "Excuse me Ma'am, did you know that bikini is WAY too small to wear in your neighborhood" or I was just hoping it would happen so I didn't have to continue on. I don't' want to paint myself as a scaredy-cat, a part of me walks on because walking forward is all I can do. I accept this is my fate and I am supposed to be dressed this way and I am facing it as bravely as I can, but a small piece of me is the mouse who keeps hoping it's all just a dream. (It isn't - Chris has pinched me enough that I know I am not sleeping! Lol). It is strange only a few years ago if he pinched me in the backseat when mom was driving some place she'd take my side. Now, it is me and mom in the back and we have to thank him for pinching us any place he chooses – my how the worm turns. What does that even mean? A worm turning? I heard it in a movie some place. I should be thankful at least they let me remove my gold tit chain and the weight hanging from my clit ring. If you want a visual of how skimpy my thong is the two piercings I received in my cunt lips are only half-concealed by what little material I have in the front and the bottoms in the back are just a string that disappear in my crack. I half expected to run into someone I know and I was half-hoping that it was Bradley Jenkins (I guess that is a quarter wishful thinking if you do the math! Lol!). I was lucky enough to make it to Mr. Hooker's house in one piece. I knocked on his door and he smiled as he opened the door "Wow, that is a different swim suit than the one you had on yesterday isn't it?" He sounded genuinely interested and not sarcastic. "Yes Sir, would you like me to start on the yard or the inside?" "Come inside, you can do the yard when it is cooler outside. I take it you didn't bring a cover up or a towel in case someone sees you like that?" "They would have already seen me at that point, Sir?" I didn't get his mention and he just shrugged. "You can call me James or Jim if you prefer, you don't have to call me Sir." He said casually as he showed me around his spacious and very tidy home. "I used to own my a farm, but I gave it up after years of working with horses and moved here years ago when this land was mostly just cow pasture." He made small talk with me for a little while and I assumed he was nervous about giving me instructions. "If you don't mind I'd rather call you Sir, so I don't assume to be too familiar. You are my boss and I don't want to be disrespectful, James?" "If you want to get formal you could call me Doctor James Hooker VI, Ph.D." he shrugged at a wall of books in his living room and said "But really, Jim or James is fine, I just want you to be comfortable. Your name is Jamie so I thought it might be confusing to call me James." "What room should I start on, James?" I asked him and he seemed taken aback that I had jumped straight digging into the chores "You only have me for three hours, Sir so I wanted you to get your money's worth?" I flashed him my big goofy smile. "You could clean the kitchen there are some dishes in there." He returned my smile with one of his own, it was broad and sweet. I nodded and awkwardly began to unhook the snap in the back of my bikini top. I knew this was coming and I felt like maybe he was just toying with me or testing me. "What are you doing?" he asked me. "I usually clean in the nude, I just assumed you were expecting that and I apologize Sir." I took my hands away from the hook and put them to the side. "Why do you clean in the nude?" He eyed me suspiciously. "So I don't get any dirt on what I am wearing, and because it amuses my father and brother, Sir." Jim looked around as if he were scanning for hidden cameras in his own home and then answered "Well, if it makes you feel at home, by all means. The swim suit really wasn't covering all that much – You only live once, right?" He pressed me for details about why I was doing this and at first I was coy and pretended like what was doing was totally normal "Doing what, Sir?" I think the casual way I accepted him staring at my nudity as I bent over and let him overtly watch me as I scrubbed his floor and cleaned his house was turning him on. I would have been apprehensive about him watching my nudity a week ago but today I was much more at home and I felt I was in control of the situation. Even though he held all the cards and was fully dressed, the way he lusted after me with his eyes told me that I held him spellbound hanging on my every word. He pressed me for answers and seemed disappointed that I was not answering all of his questions in detail. I tried to but he wasn't Chris or Dad and the way he asked the questions made me defensive. "Why did you start doing this?" The questions he asked were open ended and I didn't even know where to begin? Was it at the point that my mom and I turned a corner with my brother and father and started treating them like our personal servants or was it even before that? Or did he just mean when mom and I agreed to serve? Every time I tried to politely and truthfully answer he grew increasingly annoyed as if I weren't following his line of questions and it felt as if he were trying to talk me out of it. "What makes you think you HAVE to be here doing this?" What did he mean by the 'this' I was doing? Serving him in the nude? Answering his questions or the bigger picture of being a whore for my father and brother in order to help with the bills? Or was it even a larger question like the imponderable questions all great thinkers eventually ask about existence – why are any of us here? What is the point of it all? His questions started to hone in on my motivations for serving more than the things I had done and learned along the way. The time passed as he wrung from me thoughts that I've revealed in my journal but only first came to as part of our conversations. He was clearly a well-educated man even though he pretended to be a simple farmer from the Country and he treated me as if I weren't simply a silly girl who hadn't even completed high school. The difficulty of pondering his questions made me wonder if he wanted the answers as much as he wanted me to arrive at the conclusions. I began to wonder if the affirmations had been designed to intentionally do that or had unintentionally been doing that. I liked that form of questioning because it was more specific and I understood the boundaries of what was being asked. He left things vague and in doing so made me try to determine what he was even asking and I was beginning to see that had been this cleverly man's intention all along. It was so strange because after all I had done, I didn't feel worthy of his respect. He built up my confidence and finally said "Do you understand that you don't have to do anything you don't want to?" "Yes Sir, but I want to do 'this'" –I laid it back on him that word 'this' and let him wonder what I meant by it. 'Suit yourself," he sighed adding "I tried". He left it at left me puzzled. When my mom builds up my confidence we both resolve to toughen ourselves to the challenge ahead, but he was trying to get me to consider an entirely different path than I had felt I needed to be on. Every time I offered a concern about it, he simply tsked me away adding "I see you have made up your mind on the matter, I will say no more. Why don't you mow the lawn?" he was being polite but distant. "Yes Sir, I will mow and edge the back and then if you'll permit me to put on my swimsuit, I will do the front?" He was the one who had actually explained to me how to edge and trim a lawn the day prior when I came to do Waxerman's lawn. He told me I did good work, but he showed me how to make it look much nicer and more presentable and I was very grateful. I struggled with a way to show him. "Would you like me to suck your cock before I go?" He looked at me as if I had asked him if he wanted to eat fried skunk. "No Child, I don't believe I would. Why do you think that you have to offer sex to make people like you?" He regarded me with disappointment that wounded me in ways that the sharp physical pains I've endured couldn't. I had wanted to reward him for his attention and time today, I felt I had gotten more out of our long conversation about motivations than I might even realize at the time. I could not tell him that so I simply answered "Oh, it would be for twenty dollars, it wasn't going to be free Sir." He had begun our conversation with an excited lust in his eye but he now looked upon me with what felt like pity. "No of course it wouldn't be." He wouldn't say any more and I walked out into his backyard to get his lawnmower and trim his yard. His lawn had been cut recently and it was neat and well cared for. He obviously took great pride in his yard. I felt silly as I pushed the start button on his lawn mower but I was told to do it and frankly I wanted some alone time to think about all that he had given me to think about. I didn't get that time to think of course. I had two hours of what I would consider a break compared to the rest of my training and now here were the Waxerman boys. The 'Pooper Snoopers' as my mom and I used to call them before we found out they were Mrs. Waxerman's nephews. I turned off the mower as they popped their impish heads over the white wooden fence between her property and Mr. Hooker. I went to "Code White" as was now the standing order around the Waxermans. My orders were to behave as a wanton slut in need of guidance in an effort to push the neighborhood gossip's buttons. It was a game I actually had fun with the first few times we played it when Mom was around. Yesterday at her house I saw a more vulnerable side to her and she genuinely seemed to like me. I was curious how that would play out today as I answered "Hello Sirs, I actually have to report to your aunt in an hour." As if it didn't surprise me at all they had been watching me mow the backyard in the nude. In truth it really hadn't surprised me – They always had a way of showing up whenever mom and I were sent out into our own backyard to sunbathe and I assumed they were so bored they were probably always running around the neighborhood looking in people's backyards. There is probably some sort of genetic 'nosy' gene they share with their Aunt who does the same things with people's dirty laundry – although she is the first to say she hates gossip, she lives for it. They didn't seemed surprised to see me in the nude sweating on Mr. Hooker's lawn either. "You coming over like that?" Jimmy asked with a smile. "No Sir, but I think I will end up like this." I returned his smile right back at him. Their response was some giggles and after I told them I was to ask their Aunt for punishment and guidance there was even louder giggles. She had given me an admittedly painful thrashing and an enema the day before but there is something comforting about visiting familiar ground. It just seemed every time we visited familiar ground there was something new even more terrifying there. When we were at the Flea Market when we met up with the old man from the arcade he had gone from gentle and sweet to cruel and unforgiving. When we were at Wendy's it turned into a full-fledged piss drinking contest and sucking the guy's dicked when we had only been spanked the time before. It seemed that way as they informed me that their Aunt was on an errand and Delilah was in charge until she got home. "What about me?" I could hear that southern drawl on the other side of the fence. I heard her clamor to pull herself up the way the boys were positioned and in a moment she was looking down at me like a cat that is about to pounce on a canary. "Just that when your Aunt gets home I am supposed to seek her discipline, Ma'am" I answered as I replayed my brother's instructions about how I was to approach this situation. They hadn't told me what to do if she wasn't home because we all assumed she would be. "When she aint home, I am in charge, so you can seek mine." Her devious smile would have sent the tiny hairs on the back of my neck up if I didn't have them shaved off daily. "I should call home before I do that, Ma'am" I think there is something dangerous about Delilah that would even make Cathy Griffin a little nervous. "What and bother Chris? I know all about your little arrangement with him and your code white, so unless you want me to tell our Aunt about it, I suggest you report just as soon as you get done mowing the grass that has already been cut." She disappeared behind the fence to questions from her brothers "What is code white?" and "What are you gonna do" as they trailed her back into their house. I was once again truly nervous because with Mrs. Waxerman I had some idea of the limits of my suffering but with Delilah there may be none. The final hour passed more slowly than I had hoped and I barely noticed the whistles and stares when I completed Mr. Hooker's front yard. He kindly corrected me and told me that he used to be known as Professor Hooker and that the proper term was doctor and he just smiled as he watched me walk from his house to the neighbors. I wanted to answer with a play on words that I was Ms. Whore but I wasn't sure he would appreciate the humor. I walked up the Waxerman's house in bare feet with only bikini and reached for the knocker. Gordon Waxerman opened the door as I did and told me to come on in. The Waxerman house as I've previously mentioned is a gothic Victorian museum of antiques and family heirlooms all crammed together from what was obviously a much larger house at one time. "So what did you do to get yourself in so much trouble you have to come here and ask for correction from little old me?" Delilah was sitting in a large chair that dominated the parlor area of Waxerman's home. I wanted to correct her that I was supposed to ask for correction from Victoria and not her but my brother's instructions had been vague enough that technically it was true. She also knew about our 'code white' and I wasn't sure how that little cat out of the bag was going to play out. I felt like I was on thin ice already so I told her the truth. "I am here because when given an opportunity to relieve myself, I didn't take it and then fifteen minutes I begged to be permitted to shit and piss and did so in a pothole behind the flea market." "AT FLEA WORLD? I LOVE THAT PLACE!" Jimmy Waxerman was the most excited of the three boys who stood next to their sister's chair. They had actually seen my mother and I piss and shit in the yard and had demonstrated an infinite capacity to laugh at farts/poop humor so I wasn't shocked by the fact they were thoroughly amused at what I had just said. "Why didn't you go when given the chance, are you just a dumb cow who wanted to waste time later?" Delilah asked calmly like a spoiled princess on the Queen's throne surrounded by her knights. I could very easily see the boys dressed up like Cards and me in an Alice in Wonderland dress in some kind of perverted version of the fairy tale. "No Ma'am, I had just been fucked up the ass for the first time and I didn't realize the pressure it would put on my bowels" I answered her truthfully. "No white alert now, are you kidding me?" Delilah pressed me for the truth. I could tell the boys had no idea what 'code white' or 'white alert' meant but they were curious and excited to hear this conversation. "Your brother said you were a virgin yesterday." Delilah asked skeptically "Yes Ma'am, I had anal sex for the first time, and I am still technically a virgin." The pooper snoopers could barely contain their excitement as they chuckled at me. "That sloppy went cunt has been touched and played with hasn't it?" Delilah glared at me accusingly. "Yes Ma'am, it has." "Have you gone down on my brothers?" she asked and the pooper snoopers looked cautious as if they were about to be caught and wanted me to hush up. I didn't dare lie since I had sucked them all off at the same pool party Delilah had attended the day before and she already knew more about my situation than I thought - there was no telling what else she knew. "Yes Ma'am, I did once each in the pool shed at the party yesterday." "So for a virgin, you are an awful big slut aren't you?" Delilah was toying with me. I am pretty sure I was blushing and judging from the grins on her brothers they were enjoying watching me getting questioned like this. I was surprised she let me remain clothed (even if it barely covered anything – just for the extra layer of vulnerability). "Yes Ma'am, I am a whore and a slut and I will let just about anyone fuck me in the ass or suck their dicks for money." "Did my brothers pay you?" her eye arched in suspicion. "No ma'am, they said they would tell Mrs. Waxerman if I didn't and try to get me in trouble with her and my father." Delilah glared at her brothers who were predictably cowering and looking apologetic before continuing "How do you think my Aunt would react to finding out you soiled her boys dicks with your whore lips before marriage?" "No ma'am, but you asked me to be honest." "Honest? Are you turned on by the prospect I am going to strip you naked and stuff your poop hole with some of my Aunt's old fashioned remedy?" Delilah reminded me of a sarcastic cat for some reason just then. "No Ma'am" I stammered in reply. "Prove it," seeing I was confused she told me to remove my bikini and approach her. I knew it was inevitable I would be naked and frankly I was pleased the order eventually came. "Your nipples are hard, elevated goose bumps" she considered me when I stood right in front of her naked. Her brothers had seen me naked in the flesh so many times but this was the first time I could feel their breath on my skin and it was making me even more uneasy. "Is your pussy wet?" she asked after sitting back in her chair. "Yes Ma'am" I started to explain "But that is because since my piercings, I can't help it. I have been like that constantly." "I believe you Jamie, I really do," She hardly seemed sincere as she sat forward to look at me with cold, mocking eyes and pouty lips. "Poor, poor rich city girl, she can't help her pussy getting wet standing in front of some young little perverted boys making googly eyes at her, is that how it is?" the honey of her soft Georgia drawl juxtaposed with the vinegar in her eyes. "I don't know what you want me to do, ma'am?" I was confused and unsure how to gain her approval – it seemed nothing I was or did met whatever standard she had for me. "Are you willing to accept whatever punishment I mete out for your disgusting behavior today?" she said the word disgusting with a snarl that reminded of old Elvis movies. "You haven't told me what it is, yet Ma'am?" One thing about my brother and dad is that they never make me agree to something unless I know exactly what it is. Her eyes flashed in righteous indignation "You don't think whatever punishment you are given will be fair, for the embarrassment you are to your family, dear girl?" "No ma'am ... I mean yes Ma'am," she giggled as I stumbled with my answer. She was intimidating me and feeling as vulnerable and alone as I did I was just letting her get away with it. "Well, when you make up your mind, perhaps we can begin?" her accent reminding me of Reba McIntire the country singer for some reason. "I am ready for my punishment, Ma'am" I stood at attention with hands behind my head and bit my lip. "You don't sound ready, little miss perfect," she cooed. "You want me to punish you for what you did wrong, you need to ask nicely." I got on my knees but kept my hands behind my head "Please Ma'am, punish me for my wickedness!" "Are you believing this?" she laughed right in my face as she looked at her giggling brothers mirthful faces. "Are you expecting me to call you a heathenous varlet and scamp?" she was referring to her aunt's love of fanciful yet outdated words. "No ma'am, I have been wicked, in my behavior and I beg of you to punish me for it." I may have sounded a little too dramatic in my initial request so I tried sounding more sincere. Jimmy added "Say pretty please with sugar on top!" They couldn't have been more than a few years younger than me but something about their crew cuts and the way they dressed like right out of 1960s TVland sitcoms made it even more humbling to stand naked in front of them and ask for punishment than if they had been older and more mature. "Yes Sir, may I be punished, pretty please with sugar on top." I am sure I almost had a tear in my eye. "Why you want to be punished so badly?" Zeke asked me with a serious expression. "If I do not get corrected for my bad behavior, I won't learn to stop making the same dumb mistakes over and over, Sir" it was a well-practiced answer I had given my brother and father many times when they punished me. "Bullshit!" Delilah interrupted "She wants to be punished because it turns her on to be treated like a disgusting little whore who, she is a masochist." I knew her brothers had no idea what the term masochist was and I only had a vague understanding of it at the time she said it. "No Ma'am, that isn't true" I pleaded still on my knees in front of them. "Prove it? We'll punish you and if you aren't wet and aroused then you are right, it was just for your wicked deeds, but if you are turned on then you will bend over and let my brothers each take you in the ass, since your precious pussy is broken." They could still see the marker on my belly where it had been written earlier that day and they laughed. I could have made the case that I was already wet, and I that I couldn't help it but something about her challenge made me want to stand up to her. "If I win what do I get?" I tried to sound defiant but she just chuckled derisively as if I had no chance which made me feel even dumber. "If you win, then I'll march down to your house with you and ask your brother and father to punish me just like you." "Your brothers can watch too?" I summoned up as much courage as I could. I could tell she actually thought about what it would be like to lose but she wouldn't stumble with it for long "You are on, little miss twitch." What had I just done? I had made a bet over something I had trouble controlling at the best of times. I would imagine I had about as much control over my arousal as a nerd does when I bend over in class knowing full well that he can see right up my mini-skirt. The fact there was a small row of half-chubby tents raising because of me only made it even more provocative to me. I didn't used to be such a dirty little whore, what is happening to me? The punishment seemed simple at first – I was to lay on my back and raise my knees over chest so that they could bind my legs. Gordon even put a pillow under my back which at first I assumed was to provide me a little relief from Mrs. Waxerman's hard wood floors. They were actually just wedging me up so that my asshole was almost directly over my head as if I were mid-way through a backwards somersault. The first time a wooden rod struck my foot in the sensitive meaty part midway between the heel and the ball of the foot I let out an audible gasp and that only encouraged them. "Ticklish?" Delilah asked. "How many do I get, Ma'am?" I answered as seriously as I could. "You get twenty, but you get five more for talking." That bitch could have just said twenty five - but it speaks to her sadism that she would start out with twenty and add five right away. They struck me three more times and I held my breath on each down stroke – determined not to speak. My brother usually likes me to count and it has the added effect of regulating my breathing. Trying to remain silent only made my stomach muscles tighten and contract as she struck me a few more times. "Notice how her round little asshole puckers up like it's going to give you a kiss when I apply the rod?" I was so intent on remaining serious and holding my tongue that I barely heard her give her brothers pointers on what my body was doing. "Gross!" they said almost in unison as she struck again and noticed it. "Are you grinning, little miss thang?" Delilah asked me. "No ma'am, I am just trying to remain quiet." "It does look like she is smiling." Jimmy pointed out. Had I involuntarily smiled at the thought of how absurd this situation was? What is wrong with me? Five more strikes and I was deadly serious because now it just stung like the dickens. I was trying to absorb the pain but this was one of the few places my brother and dad hadn't been beating and I was completely sensitive there. They were laughing at how my eyes would open about the same way my asshole did each time they struck me. "Can we stick a finger in it?" Jimmy asked curiously. "You don't mind do you, little miss jezebel?" Why couldn't she pick just one nickname for me and stick to it? I wasn't sure if I could say no or should say no, so I asked "Does it count as part of my punishment, Ma'am?" "She has only had about half of her punishment now, what do you say boy's? Should one of your pokes count as another of her strokes?" she made a lazy rhyme in her quaint but sexy southern drawl and they laughed. They didn't answer her verbally but soon I felt a rough finger poke itself into my asshole. His fingernails were rough and scratchy as he tried to 'ploop' into my butt the stroke went down on the soles of my feet. I looked up to see Jimmy smiling standing over me as he retrieved his finger to inspect it. "My turn!" Gordon took his place. Delilah asked Jimmy had he felt my asshole tighten around his finger when she struck me and he nodded that he hadn't. He sniffed his finger and she scrunched her nose (the way I do involuntarily) to register her disappointment. "Stab that finger into the sluts mouth first to get it good and wet, so you can get it in deeper Gordy, I am curious if she has as much muscle control around that pink little hole as she should." Delilah's southern accent and sadism were evoking an image of Cruella DeVille ordering her next fur coat from the pet store. I couldn't blame Gordon for playing along and jamming his stubby finger into my mouth to wet it and then driving it to the second knuckle up my ass with a twist at his Sister's instruction. I am sure he was enjoying it and all but I don't think the Pooper Snooper boys would have been this cruel without their sister's influence. Her strike caused me to wince and I thought the thin wooden dowel would break against my foot by how hard she struck. "Yeah I felt it, it gripped my finger when you hit it! Do it again, Sis!" Gordon shouted joyfully. "No way, it's my turn!" Zeke already had his finger dipped deep into my mouth to take a go. "Gross don't wipe it on your pants!" I heard Delilah admonish Gordon or Jimmy before adding "Just stick it back into this slut's mouth, she doesn't mind cleaning off her own filth, do you slut?" "No ma'am" I cried as I answered because she lashed out catching me off guard with the rod before Zeke got a chance to penetrate my butthole with his finger. Gordon wormed his finger in for what I think was strike fourteen and they all three repeated this exercise one more time (having me wet the finger before and clean it after). Delilah told them they had a preview of what it is going to feel like to fuck me in the ass and that I had better contract and tighten my 'hole' when I lose the bet. I was trying to think about baseball, and unicorns and my Aunt and Grandmother in Indiana - anything to keep my mind off the aching feeling that I was over-stimulated and there was no way they were going to let me win this bet. She applied the remaining eight strikes to my feet and I have to admit without the added humiliation of a finger testing the ring of my asshole for contractions it was anti-climatic – and right now the thing I needed most was anti-climax!! When she finished with me they unbound my feet and had me stand up. My feet were still stinging but my ego had taken a bigger hit than my feet had. "Nipples are hard as diamonds" Delilah felt my cheeks adding "Warm and flush like a school girl at a Bieber concert" before sticking a finger in my pussy and drawing it back to lick it like a lollipop. She looked me up and down "I think you are turned on by this," She challenged. "I was like this before you started, did I get more aroused?" a stroke of accidental brilliance on my part to think of that on the spur of the moment – I thought I made a good point. She dismissed it and said "The bet wasn't if you would get more aroused, it was just that you'd be more aroused." "It is not fair you get to decide if I lose the bet!" I pouted in frustration. I am a good sport about taking my lumps but one thing I cannot abide is a lack of fairness in a process – especially when I am being judged! "Okay, how about my brothers my vote?" Delilah offered diplomatically her sweet southern voice losing some of its sadistic edge (to lull me into a false sense of security, no doubt!). "No fair, they get to fuck me in the ass if I lose." I probably did sound like I was being pouty but cut me some slack – I had just had a beating on one of the few places left on my body that hadn't been beaten before. "Yes, but if I lose they get to watch me ask for the same punishment at your house." She countered that they had just as much reason to answer that I wasn't. If she had been patient I probably would have caved and agreed to let them judge since I didn't see any other alternative but she offered "We could ask Dr. Hooker, he would be neutral." She did have a point but the nice old man seemed so sweet that I couldn't picture him even dignifying this with a response. "I don't think he would want to be involved in this." I remembered how he had looked at me with lust in his eyes at first but eventually a growing disappointment with me. "Okay, if he won't answer then you automatically win and if he does answer that you aren't aroused then you also win – But if he answers you are turned on then you have to ask him to fuck you in the ass on top of everything else." "I actually did, but for fifty dollars because that is the standard price and he turned me down." I shook my head because I didn't believe he was going to go for this. "You are wasting time and trying to cool down, Gordon go get Dr. Hooker!" She ordered her brother who ran off quickly to his neighbor's house. "All you have to do is make the offer, little miss slut, now lay back down on your back so I can keep you aroused with a few stingers until he gets here." What kind of mess had I gotten myself into? ------- Chapter 11: The Chapter that Will be Jacked Off to More than All Others STAR COUNT: WENDY: 51 Get out of jail cards: 1 WHORE: 5,3,0,0,1 JAMIE: 59 Get out of jail cards: 1 WHORE: 4,3,0,0,0 *Note to reader: The story returns to the original narrative voice. "Are you afraid, stupid girl?" Delilah was wickedly thrashing the bottom of Jamie's feet and around the bottom of her thighs while Jamie kept her feet pulled up over her chest -this time without need of restraint. "No Ma'am" Jamie's crystal blue eyes were telling Delilah that Jamie was lying when she said that as another strike came down on her tender feet. "Well you should be," Delilah sent Jimmy to fetch 'the sauce' and he reluctantly minded his sister after she told him a second time. "No, you can't punish me more before he gets here, that isn't fair!" Jamie pleaded desperately but a part of her was already resigned to the outcome of Delilah's decision. "What are you afraid of? That you'll get off even more if I turn up the punishment a notch?" It wasn't the pain as much as the evil hiss of the dowel when Delilah whipped it through the air that intimidated Jamie. "You should be thanking me – first you'll get a proper punishing for your foul deeds this morning and second the more punishment you endure, if you aren't getting off on it – it will only strengthen your case when Dr. Hooker gets here." Jamie said nothing until another strike dug into her feet and Delilah reiterated "No really – you SHOULD be thanking me!" "Yesss Ma'hammmmm" Jamie's voice quivered as she tearfully delivered her "Thank you S-sso much for punishing me today." followed by giggles from the Waxerman boys who were attentively watching the power exchange unfold between the two girls. Just a few weeks earlier Jamie would never have even considered being punished this way. Now it actually felt appropriate on some level to her that she endure this punishment and a small piece of her not only accepted it but wanted to face the challenge she was being offered and she hated that piece of her. Jamie was conflicted on many levels, which had completely transcended the original scope of the payback she was allowing her father and brother. She would not have time to consider how much was chemically induced from the hormone treatments she had been receiving, and how much was opiate induced from the confusing pleasure signals her body was sending when physical or mental pain was delivered onto her sensitive teenage body. There had been the guilt of what she had done to put herself in this position and there had been a desire to help her mother go through with what they both had agreed to endure – but there was so much more to this experience and now was not the time to reach an epiphany while lyingnaked on Mrs. Waxerman's Egyptian style rug with Jimmy Waxerman's smiling face standing over her with an upturned bottle of Texas Pete Hot Sauce. Jimmy shook the sauce bottle over her bare pussy dripping red pepper sauce all over the girl's delicate pink sliver and immediately sending a shock down her spine. "Get enough up there Jimmy, it will cover the fishy smell." Delilah's hurtful words barely registered on Jamie who was already gyrating and taking her arms from her knees to try to console her pained pussy. "Zeke, get her arms and pull them over her head." The boy obeyed his sister by springing over Jamie's head and grabbing her arms while she thrashed about in tears, kicking her legs in vain hope that it would relieve the burning pain in her pussy. "Oh Boo-Hoo! Get it together before Doctor Hooker gets here." Delilah had absolutely no empathy for the girl's new level of pain. The boys were oblivious to how it might feel and were too amused to give it much thought. "That was just a taste of the hot sauce, when I offer it to you when Doctor Hooker gets here you better pull one of your white alerts and agree to it, unless you want my Aunt and brother's here to know what it means." Jamie nodded her head in understanding as tears rolled down her cheek and her rapid breathing began to come back under her control. She voluntarily assumed her position to pull her knees over her chest on her back as the boy's released her. Gordon returned with their next door neighbor, "See I told you Doctor Hooker, she WANTS to be punished." James Hooker looked down on the naked girl who had just mowed his perfectly manicured grass and cleaned his already clean house with something approaching sympathy, "Is this true?" as he shook his head in mock disgust. Through tear clenched eyes Jamie managed to say as sweetly as she could muster "Yes Sir, my father caught me doing something disgusting and that is why I had to leave your house promptly at 7:30, to ask Mrs. Waxerman to punish me." Dr. Hooker had asked Jamie many questions about her life earlier but he hadn't believed the outrageous answers she was giving – she was so perky and accepting of her situation it just didn't add up to him. Every time he had tried to drill down into the real reasons behind her behavior he felt she was putting up walls. This new spectacle, with her flat on her back, with her knees pulled up to her chest asking for punishment, only made him suspect there was so much more to this situation. "Is Mrs. Waxerman home?" he asked trying to keep a serious face – he was the only adult in the room and he didn't want to let on that this was turning him on in the most delicious way. "Why no she isn't, which is why I felt it was best to summon you so you can tell my Aunt that we did our best to punish her in the most proper way so this little scamp wouldn't be late getting home." Delilah's tone had a naïve and childlike tone for the Doctor's benefit. He suspected she was a very devious girl but he saw no harm in letting her talk to him that way. "What exactly is it you did wrong?" James crossed the living room to have a seat next to Delilah when none was offered. "I didn't shit when I was given an opportunity and then fifteen minutes later I texted for permission, Sir." Jamie breathed in and added, "And, I shit in a puddle behind one of the stands at the Flea Market, Sir" just as she had answered her brother earlier that day before she left. The boys were still giggling when Doctor Hooker asked, "Why didn't you use the restroom when you were given an opportunity?" in a serious voice as if this were as normal as forgetting one's homework or leaving the faucet on. Jamie answered as if she were in one of her 'affirmations' by saying "I am just a stupid, ungrateful cunt Sir and didn't think ahead." The Doctor not realizing that Jamie had spent a week practicing to affirm these things was once again frustrated by her easy acceptance of something she knew she wasn't. "There is a deeper reason. Did you want to get caught?" "No Sir!" Jamie answered sharply – as if on que Delilah brought the rod down on her already tender feet in response to her answer. Delilah was getting bored and wanted to get on with the punishment. She didn't realize that at that very moment Jamie's mind was spinning with possible answers to the Doctor's open ended question – not only this one but the ones he asked earlier in the afternoon while she polished his floors and door knobs in the nude. Had Delilah realized that Jamie's anticipation of the punishment, and her mental wranglings with the questions were both driving her crazy she would have taken much more delight in them. "I had just been fucked in the ass for the first time Sir, and I didn't realize it would make me have to shit, Sir." Jamie finally blurted out to a fresh wave of laughter from the Waxerman boys at her crude remarks. "Your language is so coarse and vulgar. I really don't understand why you talk this way?" Dr. Hooker asked while admonishing her. Jamie couldn't help but feel a little disappointed he didn't seem to intuitively understand why things had to be this way. "I am not allowed to use euphemisms for my answers, Sir. I have to be willing to talk as crude and as base as my behavior." She tried not to sound as if she pitied him that he couldn't figure that out on his own and instead treated it like a reaffirmation of the rules she had been living under. That was a familiar feeling to her and it made her less nervous about revealing herself as such a slut to him. She knew had she been in this position with the Doctor a few weeks earlier, she would be even more embarrassed about these admissions then she already was. She couldn't quite explain to herself why that might be other than the fact that it had been much harder to talk like this around people who knew the 'old Jamie', when she was a naïve cheerleader and wasn't under her father and brother's thumb. The Doctor was about to patiently ask why she felt her behavior was that way when Delilah interrupted him "Oh you are a cruel and vile man, Doctor Hooker – I do see what you are a doin'." "What is that?" he asked turning his head from the frightened teenage girl on the floor. "You want to drag this slutty girl's confession out until she is late getting home so that she will be punished for that when she gets home. I do declare that I had no idea you were such a wicked man." She smiled at him behind the veil of a false admiration. In truth, she simply wanted him to get on with the punishment. "Oh, that is the farthest from the truth, well what exactly is the punishment?" He asked genuinely trying to clarify. He had only been curious about this enigmatic sexy girl who seemed to be a glutton for her own humiliation by his own estimation. "That is an excellent question, Doctor Hooker." Delilah grinned a wintry smile before looking down at Jamie like a spider before the fly and asking her, "What exactly should your punishment be?" The question surprised Jamie and there was a noticeable drop in the giggles from the Waxerman boy's when she failed to answer right away. Delilah sliced the rod into the soles of her prey's delicate feet to punctuate her question, "Do you have a hearing problem? I asked what your punishment ought to be." "No Ma'am, I heard you. I thought I was to offer myself to your mercies to pick a suitable punishment to fit my offense? Was that not the reason for me to offer my feet to you in this way?" Jamie answered suddenly confused that Delilah had put the decision on what type of punishment back in her lap. "That was just to get your attention, dear heart." Delilah dragged the tip of the rod down Jamie's thigh slowly as she added, "I thought you would want to give my brother's a little show. Like you and your mother do every day after school." The mention of Jamie's mom only percolated Dr. Hooker's interest even more although he tried not to show it. Delilah noticed that his trousers were fully tented even if behind his well-trimmed beard she could not tell his expression. His imagination was soaring thinking about how the mother fit into this interesting puzzle as he imagined how many chapters it might take to tell the full story behind this. This was all simply so over the top that he continued to wonder if he were being filmed secretly in some twisted practical joke. "You are a lazy little brat, making everyone else come up with ways to correct you. I want you to put your WHITE thinking cap on and come up with a way for us to punish you that will teach you the error of your ways, and amuse everyone here." Delilah was reminding Jamie she knew all about the little game they played with her aunt and the 'white alert' code where the girls were supposed to act like wanton sluts in need of direction. "May I kneel before you to ask for my punishment, Ma'am?" Jamie's response was so natural and authentic that even she wasn't sure if she was playing along with the 'white alert' code or she had meant it. Delilah may have just been fucking with her head about coming up with her own punishment but it actually made sense to her on some level. "Why, don't you do your best work on your back, slutty girl?" Delilah prodded her with the birch dowel. "Yes Ma'am, I just thought you may want me to kneel so that I could answer your question respectfully." Jamie said in the sweetest possible way, without a trace of sarcasm. It almost made Delilah feel sorry for her – almost. "That is a good point, but I think our guests here are enjoying looking at those little holes of yours winking at them." Delilah cooed in response shedding her pretense of being a sweet little country girl around Dr. Hooker. "I have been trained to kneel so that my holes are always on display for the amusement of my betters, Ma'am." Jamie answered honestly – it was almost as if these skills and trainings were starting to pay off. "Fine, but if your stalling on purpose we are going to walk you home so that we can watch you get punished a second time for being late." "Thank you Ma'am." Jamie pretended that it might be plausible she was stalling and in part she was. She rose into the kneeling position that had her legs parted enough that nothing was unexposed as she put her arms behind her head, interlacing her finger, s and looking directly at Delilah and Doctor Hooker with her baby blue eyes before casting them down. She was also stalling so she could formulate a worthy punishment that would satisfy Delilah and seem appropriate for the offense under the 'white alert' code. "For the careless disregard of my brother's offer to let me shit when I could be supervised, and only fifteen minutes later texting my brother to beg to be permitted to crap and bringing embarrassment on my family that the people watching me do it could be reflected back on my father and brother, the punishment should fit the crime." Delilah cradled her own chin on her steepled fingers as she listened like a bored Princess who has seen this jester's act before. It was all an act of course – she was curious what the punishment would be. "Since my asshole was the source of my trouble, I should be punished on it with 50 swats by your cane." "What else ya got?" Delilah croaked with a sigh as if unimpressed by the first suggestion. Jamie quietly pouted in confusion, wondering was this not the level of punishment she was expected to beg for? "I agree your fat ass is the source of your troubles but we all know you can take a paddle, and a rod. I dare say it probably turns you on, so isn't that why you asked for it?" Delilah became more animated as she questioned the shivering naked girl in front of her. Jamie had a whole new respect for Delilah's sadism as she spoke. Her father at best let her draw from cards they had made up of punishments, but they always picked for her - this was an entirely new level of degradation having to pick her own punishment and then negotiate in front of leering eyes. Dr. Hooker was watching the spectacle play out. He felt sorry for Jamie and thought the punishments were cruel but at the same time he found it difficult to express concern given the girl seemed to think her punishment was absolutely necessary – oh who was he kidding? He was a dirty old man and he couldn't have walked out of the room if his pants were on fire at that moment. Jamie felt the stares of the boys and Dr. Hooker all over her naked body and her goosebumps had goosebumps on top of each other. Mrs. Waxerman kept her parlor unreasonably cold and the chill air was making her nipples even harder than usual. Jamie knew Delilah wanted her to reveal the bet to Dr. Hooker but now that it was time to actually explain it she was having trouble finding a way to say it that didn't sound completely brutal and over the top. Delilah only had to flick the switch in the air a few times to drive home the point they were waiting for Jamie to say something. "If I get aroused while I am being punished for my indiscretions, then every guy here can fuck me up the ass." Jamie was hoping for a reaction either positive or negative from Dr. Hooker but he simply maintained his poker face. She added, "Even Doctor Hooker – if you want to Sir?" her question a polite way of trying to see if they had gone too far. "Oh of course I would want too dear, but the question is do you really want that to happen?" "No Sir, It'll keep my mind on my punishment if I know the consequences is so severe, and not let my mind wander and think perverted thoughts of pleasure." "Are so severe" "Yes Sir, that is what I said" "No you said IS so severe." "Oh Sorry Sir, I am a little nervous." Jamie was understating her mounting fear of the outcome of this punishment. "I've never done anything like this." "Oh pish-tosh, you were punished in front of us yesterday." Delilah said dismissively with a wave of her birch rod. "That is true Ma'am, but I did not have to come up with my own punishment or have consequences if I get aroused by my circumstances." "Is it wrong if we are aroused?" Zeke asked his sister innocently in a way that said he already thought it was. "Ordinarily I'd say ICK, TMI Zeke!" Delilah answered her brother much the same way Jamie might have a month ago if Chris had asked the same question. "However, given you've got this sexy little tramp offering to let you mooch butt sex off her when she fails to keep her mind on the reason for her punishment and proves what a slut she is, I'd say it's okay if you are getting a little woody –Imma thinkin' you are going to need it here directly." She drew out the last few words in a deep southern drawl for dramatic effect to impress upon Jamie she would probably lose their bet. "Go ahead, stand up and turn around, grab your ankles, what is it you brother calls it?" "Position two, ma'am?" Jamie asked sweetly as she rose and assumed the familiar position – bending at the waist with knees slightly bent and holding her ass cheeks wide apart with both hands. "That is the one." Delilah answered, she had obviously spent her day at the pool party chatting up Chris to find out the details of the girl's discipline. Jamie was disappointed with herself that she instantly assumed her brother hadn't actually been flirting. Delilah had unconventional good looks, like a country-version of a teenage Wednesday Addams with freckles. She was, from a physical beauty stand point, pretty much out of Chris's league –but more to the point, she had wondered what they may have in common when she saw them giggling together the day before. Jamie no longer had any doubt as she held her ass cheeks apart for the wicked young girl. "Is that so we can hit you squarely on the asshole with the rod or so we can shove something up there?" Delilah asked with what approached a sadistic mirth – which coincidentally was the same tone tinged with mirth her brother had often used when asking similar questions of his sister. Jamie was going to explain her father's reasoning that they should have no modesty and be fully spread since they are owned. The Taylor women hadn't made the men spread like that when they were in charge but now that the Taylor men had authority it had been made clear they liked to see the girls' asses and that was the main reason the default position had her holding herself open. Jamie felt inexplicably 'in for a penny, in for a pound' to her white-alert role and without thinking about the repercussions said, "Whichever you think is most appropriate, ma'am" Delilah brought the switch down hard on Jamie's tender and teased asshole with a terrifying 'Swiiiiip' sound causing Jamie's knees to buckle slightly on the down stroke. "I know I can tell you what I prefer BUT I asked you a question slut. Do you want 49 more directly on your swollen asshole or do you want us to shove something up your butthole to act as a shield so we can switch your ample ass crack instead?" Jamie couldn't see them but she thought she felt the boy's breath on the back of her neck in anticipation of her answer. Jamie's mind instantly recalled Zeke's face when his aunt had switched him directly on the tender meat of his asshole and even though she had endured a similar experience many times herself in that split second she imagined how sublimely painful the deliverance of 49 more like the last one were going to be all over again – experiencing each tender strike in her mind in her imagination all at once. "Put something up my ass, Ma'am" Jamie mumbled nervously. 'SWiiiiipppff' another stroke directly on the anus "I know you know how to ask more politely than that!" Jamie's nipples began to swell and fill with the last strike as her body reacted to the stinging pain sending out signals to every part of her as she gasped for air. "Yes Ma'am I am sorry, I should have asked nicely and I apologize for that." Jamie made a point of admitting what she did wrong out loud. Her brother and father had drilled it into her head that she had to admit her shortcoming out loud to accept responsibility for it and the practice of being explicit had proven to add to her humiliation. She straightened her back and didn't take her hands from her ass as she summoned up a second-wind of courage to ask as sweetly as she could, "Would you mind please putting something up my asshole so that you can punish my ass hard, without slicing into my asshole nub?" As Jamie said the words she almost choked on how gratuitously over the top they were but with her brother's tutoring she had become all too familiar with them and they seemed appropriate given the situation. "Much better" Delilah stroked Jamie's ass cheek raising yet another row of fresh goose bumps along the tender naked flesh of the teenager. "Make her say pretty please!" Gordon called out anxiously while his brother's sounded their approval. "Pretty please with sugar on top will one of you put something up my asshole?" Even Jamie was a little amused by how sugary-sweet that sounded as she wiggled her butt. She answered before she could be prodded to do so and Doctor Hooker was the only one who kept a serious face. He was secretly enjoying this beyond words but he continued his dignified façade if only to hide the throbbing boner in his lap. "What would you like up that stink hole, hon?" Delilah, amused with Jamie's willingness to play along, poked at the girls asshole with the tip of the rod as she toyed with her. "Broom handle..." Jimmy Waxerman whispered and suddenly his brothers joined him in chanting "broom handle ... Broom handle..." Jamie had been fucked in the ass today and had worn butt plugs but one of the worst and most painfully humiliating experiences had been having a broom stick lodged in her rectum only earlier that afternoon in the Korean tattoo parlor. She smiled slightly at the irony that they had no idea this would be the second time today. The boys took her smile as a forgone conclusion she would agree to have a broom handle stuck up her ass and cheered for her. Okay ... Okay, but will you please, um pretty please with EXTRA sugar - lube it up first?" the thought of it being jabbed in dry made her wince and she knew if she did happen to lose the bet it might not be a bad idea to have her backdoor warmed up for what was going to happen. "Lube?" Jimmy asked completely confused. "Coat one of the brooms in some lard from the kitchen." Delilah commanded him as if it were common sense. "Make sure to go at least twelve inches from the tip. We don't know how deep this girl's asshole will stretch" the words sent a cold chill down Jamie's spine. Jimmy and Gordon ran off to get a broom from the kitchen cupboard, leaving the rest of them sitting quietly staring squarely at Jamie's pink, puffy asshole. "Well, this is awkward," Delilah joked to cut the quiet while they waited for her brothers to return. "I will say this for her - she certainly does have a pretty asshole." Jamie was midway through thanking her for the compliment when she was interrupted by a sharp strike down directly on her tender asshole. "You are so used to being the center of attention you think everyone is talking to you, now hush." Delilah chided Jamie, adding to her embarrassment. "Yes, she is as smooth as a baby's bottom." Doctor Hooker answered dryly. He thought for a moment before speculating "Perfectly hairless, laser surgery to remove all the follicles?" Delilah prodded Jamie with the boot of her heel, "Listen up dummy, now you are ignoring direct questions?" Jamie was getting frustrated that she couldn't seem to please Delilah no matter if she remained silent or spoke – and she started to speculate perhaps that was Delilah's point to make with her. "I wish sir, no my mother and I shave hairless every day below the neck so that our skin is pleasing to the eye and not a single wild hair covers any of our holes." She had gone over this topic in affirmations every morning when the shaving was complete but it still embarrassed her to say them out loud, especially in front of Dr. Hooker. She couldn't tell if he was disappointed or pleased under his neatly trimmed beard. Jimmy and Gordon were both carrying the broom arguing loudly as they re-entered the ornate parlor. "No, let me put it in!" Jimmy yanked on the broom towards him 'That's not fair, I did the greasin'!' Gordon held on tightly to the broom and struggled to pull it back to him as they both clung to it. "The greasing' is fun!" Jimmy countered with exasperation before being interrupted by their sister. "Will you both just quiet down? Doctor Hooker is the guest, and he should do the honors of stuffing this pig." The Doctor made a show of pretending to be hesitant but he wasn't fooling Delilah that the thought of what he was going to do was turning him beyond his imagining that it could. Jamie had such a Pollyanna, pure-bread exterior, but with a willingness to put herself in peril. He felt like the mustachioed villain tying the damsel in distress to the train tracks except this time she was naked and holding her ass apart for him to stick anything he wanted inside of her. "Hey, didn't your brother buy you a chastity belt?" Delilah helped to guide Doctor Hooker's hands to grasp the broom and position the stunned professor behind Jamie. "Yes Ma'am, my father and brother bought one for both my mother and I." Jamie hated that she sounded almost robotic in her responses, but she felt that was the most respectful way to give her responses and Delilah wasn't complaining about her tone. The Waxerman boys obviously knew what a chastity belt was because they cooed a knowing "ooooooooooh!" in unison when the question was answered. "Why isn't a whore like you wearing it all the time?" Delilah asked. The question was welcome to Jamie as it took her mind off the fact that Doctor Hooker was delicately inserting a greased broom handle into the opening of her asshole while she held her ass cheeks open. He was working it in gently enough that the anticipation was actually starting to make her unconsciously work herself back and forth ever so slightly to get it all the way in. "They let me have a choice to wear it today Ma'am," Jamie explained. There was silence as if Delilah was expecting more of an explanation and then the whizzt of another swat to Jamie's ass cheeks. The jab narrowly missed Doctor Hooker's wrist, who was so fully engrossed in packing Jamie's ass with the broom handle he didn't see it coming. Jamie assumed the slap was to remind her to be more forthcoming and explicit in her responses - at least that is what her father and brother would have expected. "It's part of our rules Ma'am, if we choose to wear the chastity belt then no one is allowed to touch or play with our assholes or cunts." "So you CHOSE not to wear it today, because you wanted people to play with your nasty little twat?" Delilah was being coy in how she asked the question. "Yes Ma'am, because I am trying to earn money for our rent and bills, and I thought it might help if I were willing to sacrifice my pride and forgo the chastity belt, knowing the repercussions of that decision." "Help the good doctor get that broom at least six inches up that stink hole of yours, will you? He seems to be treating you far more delicately than you deserve." By now Delilah's tone carried a casual assumption of authority that anything she told Jamie was to be done. "Yes Ma'am." Jamie reached behind her and gritted her teeth as she took Doctor Hooker's hands to help guide the broomstick into her ass. She grunted twice before she was satisfied she had lodged it far enough into her rectum so she could safely ask, "Is it in far enough to your satisfaction, Ma'am?" "Should we pull it out and measure the oil level like a dipstick?" Delilah laughed. "No Ma'am, please leave it in" Jamie begged in response. Delilah slapped her ass cheeks with her rod "That was rhetorical you dumb-butt." That only confused Jamie since she had been prompted to answer any question before this but she was too nervous and afraid to ask her to clarify or point out the inconsistencies. There was a sense of fairness about how her dad and brother punished her that Delilah's teasing lacked and Jamie found herself longing for the comfort of the tortures she had grown accustomed to at home. "Alright, I think we are finally ready now that little miss perfection is finally sufficiently stuffed, there are fifty strokes to deliver so each of us will give her ten, fair?" Delilah was asking her brothers and the doctor but it was merely a polite formality as she knew they would agree with whatever she decided for Jamie. "Fourty-nine, Ma'am ... you already counted one." Jamie corrected. There was a terrible swish in the air as Delilah's switch cut through the air causing Jamie to tighten all the muscles in her stomach and legs in anticipation. Delilah paused to let the terror of it sink in and said sweetly "You are so right, I am glad you are so good at counting, because you'll be keeping track, girly." 'SWARPFfffttthhh' Delilah brought the switch down on Jamie's ass hard, sending shock waves through the girl's body. Zeke giggled jovially as if he had just seen a clown slip on a banana, "I like how when you hit her, her entire body tightens and shakes..." Jamie could hear Jimmy punch his brother in the arm and tease him, "You do that too when Auntie gives you the rod." "Do not." She couldn't hear all the laughing comments because her mind was on counting out each swat, "Four, thank you Ma'am for teaching me the error of my ways". "I like how her pussy doesn't look like roast beef hanging down." Gordon commented detached as if he we were watching something on TV and making an ordinary observation. "How would you know what pussies look like?" Delilah asked while Jamie counted out strokes five and six. There was a pause in the cadence that ended Jamie's rhythm of absorbing the down stroke, counting out a response and bringing her ass back up in time for another. "Nudie magazine." Jimmy blurted out conspiratorially as if they all three were just being busted. "You little pre-verts, am I going to have to tell Auntie Waxerman you've got pornography in her home?" Delilah let Jamie twist a little while she addressed her brothers. "NO!!! PLEASE don't." the boys pleaded. "You'll each plant a seed in her backside if she gets aroused, and the nudie books will be our little secret then?" "It's not books, it's just one." Gordon corrected pleadingly. "Tell her what it's called" Jimmy teased his brother. "Big Butt magazine." Gordon admitted with a little shame while the other two tittered and giggled. "You like big butts, Gordon?" His big sister asked mocking him. "Yes, I guess so." "Can you other brothers deny?" Delilah asked with glee in her voice as she brought down a seventh strike on Jamie's ass cheeks. "What?" "Oh that's right. You don't get to listen to the devil's rap music, never mind. It's above your head – but it's not above yours is it bright-cheeks?" Delilah asked Jamie making a reference to the pink rosy glow of the fresh swats to her ass. "Yes Ma'am, Sir Mix-A-Lot." Jamie answered, "Baby Got Back" she felt sick to her stomach with humiliation as a fresh wave of laughter washed over her when the boys heard the title of the song for the first time. "Do you have back, girl?" Delilah brought down number eight as she delivered the question. "Yes Ma'am, that was nine and I thank you for using it to teach me a valuable lesson." Jamie wasn't sure how much of that was true, and how much of it was the panicked response of someone who had grown accustomed to submissive acceptance of punishments. The Tenth strike fell hard on Jamie's ass like an electric shock. Delilah waited for Jamie to finish thanking her before reaching out to the girl's clit ring and fondling it slightly. "Hmm, not sticky yet with girl honey." She sounded disappointed before asking "Who wants to go next?" The boys all shouted "Me! Me! Me!" "Well now, Doctor Hooker is our guest, perhaps he would like to go next, you rude thoughtless boys?" Delilah quieted them down. The Doctor was a little stunned by finally seeing the perfection that was this girl's shapely tattooed ass being swatted. "I should probably bat clean-up, if you know what I mean." Delilah didn't get the baseball reference but she smirked with a 'suit-your-self' expression and handed the rod to Jimmy. "You are the oldest, so you can go next." Jimmy held the rod at first like a light saber and made a 'swushing' sound while his brother's encouraged him to 'let her have it, Jimmy!'. "I've never been the one giving the rod so I am not sure what side to stand on." Jimmy sounded nervous, and the fact he was so innocent sounding only added to Jamie's humiliation at his hands. She could only look straight ahead and hold her ass cheeks apart while she bent over with the broom drooping out of her ass. "Just pick a side and do it, or lose your turn!" Delilah coaxed him harshly. That was all it took for him to switch the way he held the switch so that it was like he was holding it and swinging it like a baseball bat hitting one to the outfield. "Good job, Jimmy" Jamie was caught off guard by the swing actually knocking her off her toes a bit, "Thank you Sir, for punishing me, that is eleven." She grunted sourly as she scrambled to get back into position. "Stay flat on your feet, Dum-Dum" Delilah joked her advice. Jimmy's next four swings didn't have quite as much impact as the first but each one was delivered with an enthusiastic smile from Jimmy and a thankful yet humbled response from Jamie counting it out. "The broom kind of looks like a five foot long turd hanging out of her ass." Jimmy giggled his observation mostly for his brothers benefit who cracked up. Jamie stoically took the comment in stride but now the image of a long brown turd of poop hanging from her ass was firmly planted in her mind and her face turned as red as her ass. 'SWAPTFTFFFF' the rod whip-cracked on her ass "Thank you Sir, Fifffteeen" some of Jamie's responses were short and sweet but they had to be because unlike Delilah who had mostly held a cadence while the swings were often one right after the other in rapid succession. He delivered his ten and then handed the rod quietly to his brother Gordon. "Wait a sec, little Brother" Delilah held up a finger cautioning him not to sit back down. Jimmy looked up like he might be in trouble and then saw that his sister was pointing at Jamie's clit. "You need to check to see if she has any gooey girl juices dripping off her lips. We don't want this twisted little sister getting all horny and turned on while she gets her punishment." Gordon blurted out skeptically, "Who could get turned on during a beating?" His sister turned to him and answered, "It's a girlish trick, you can tune out the pain and go someplace else for a while." Jimmy reached under Jamie's pussy lips and gave them a squeeze like he was scrunching a sponge but reported it wasn't "very sticky" with a slight measure of disappointment. "There are thirty more to go, Jim-Jim" Delilah said encouragingly "She might just go to her 'happy place' and if she does she'll pay the consequences to each and every one of you for ignoring the lesson you are trying to teach her." "What is the lesson again?" Zeke asked sounding as if his mouth was full. Jamie answered crisply, "I am having my ass punished because it got me in trouble today, when I was given an opportunity to shit and declined. Then I embarrassed my family by squatting in front of a bunch of customers at the flea market and shitting in a puddle like a dog. This is teaching me to shit when given permission and keep my ass completely empty and clean instead of waiting." "I hope it's empty, or else these boys are going to get brown eye!" Delilah seemed to have the forgone conclusion that Jamie was going to lose their bet and she made no secret as she joked about it. Gordon had been standing in front of Jamie's red-striped ass looking intently at it while they talked. "Notice anything interesting brother dear?" Delilah's sweet tone was a subtle hint that her brother should continue the punishment. Naturally subtle context was completely lost on him and he answered her, "Well, all around her butthole it's not brown." "Did you expect there to be poop?" Delilah's eyes narrowed as she looked at him with a mixture of confusion and contempt. "No, just in that magazine, some of the girls have dark around their buttholes." The Doctor cleared his throat, having been entranced with the spectacle for entirely different reasons, "That is a normal pigmentation, Gordon". "Yeah right, it just happens to be right around the poop hole and be the color of poop?" Gordon squinted. "You seem to have an unhealthy obsession with all things poop related." Doctor Hooker observed about the young boy. Gordon just smiled and nodded as if he either didn't understand what obsessed meant or he didn't see a problem with it. The Doctor just shook his head and dismissed the next thing he was about to say when Gordon's only response was a toothy grin. "Just switch the bitch, and shut up Gordon." Delilah chided her brother, "Her asshole isn't perfectly pink, it's just been messed up when her father branded her for whoring." She noted which Jamie thought to herself was almost a compliment of sorts coming from Delilah. Gordon's first few swings were much lighter but Jamie dutifully counted them and thanked him for punishing her. "It's not love taps, hit her like Auntie hits your ass." Delilah prodded her brother. "That's TOO hard." Gordon answered stubbornly. "You think that girl can't take as much as you can? You want me to take away your last six strokes?" Gordon's response was a first-class shot across the bow of Jamie's ass that sent shivers up and down her spine as the shockwave spread out through her body, "Unfffffff, thank you Sir! Twennteee-fife!" she hissed. "See, the girl is thanking you." Delilah patted him on the shoulder and Gordon proceeded to deliver the next five shots just like he had that one. He didn't have to be reminded to check her pussy for wetness and he went a step further running his finger inside her tight pussy. He wasn't sure if Delilah would notice and call him out for it, but if she did she didn't say anything. He smirked because he felt a little like he had just got away with a little something extra even though he had to report the girl wasn't aroused. When it was finally Zeke's turn Jamie wondered if it might not be a bad idea to just go ahead and claim she was aroused. She felt she couldn't hold out for another twenty strikes and she thought she might just go ahead and accept the inevitable. Then she realized Delilah was sadistic enough to continue the punishment anyway so she pushed the idea of surrendering now to the back of her mind as Gordon teed up his first swat. "Thank you Sir, Thirty-one." Jamie squealed. "I like how she calls me Sir." Zeke, who was the most soft-spoken of the brothers, observed with a smile. "It makes me feel like a grown man." He said with a proud smile on his face. "It is because you are my better, Sir. I'm not allowed to be familiar with my superiors and address them by their first name unless they tell me to do so." Jamie explained sweetly while bracing for the first of several strikes from Zeke. She counted each one and thanked him for the lesson. "I am glad you are facing away from me." Zeke finally said after silently delivering his ten spankings to her ripe red ass. "Why is that Sir?" Jamie answered stifling her tears. "Your blue eyes are so sweet. They look like Tinkerbell's fairy eyes. I'd probably feel sorry for you if I had to look you in the fac.e" Zeke sounded smitten with her, but at the same time he reached under her and gave a hard squeeze to her pussy lips. "Well?" Delilah asked him. "Well what?" Zeke answered back. "Is she aroused?" "How would I know?" He answered her naively. Delilah put his hand back on Jamie's crotch and said, "Does it feel sticky to you? Feel around the lips." "Oh, no I guess not." Jamie sighed with relief that she had managed to endure all this torment and her body had not gotten aroused. She wondered if Delilah would really walk with her all the way home and ask for punishment if she won the bet. "Wouldn't that be an interesting turn of events?" She thought to herself but refused to jinx it by counting her chickens before they hatch. "I've got ten more swats and then I can go home, where I'll probably get punished more," She thought to herself – smirking at her own gallows humor about the state of her life. "I believe it's your turn Doctor Hooker." Delilah handed a fresh birch switch to him (It stands to reason Mrs. Waxerman would have an ample supply growing in her backyard). The Doctor who had silently observed the bizarre spectacle was at first embarrassed to stand up because it would reveal the bulging erection in his lap. Delilah guided him out of the chair by taking his hand "Don't worry if you get hard looking at this slut. That is to be expected of a man looking at her brazenly displaying herself for anyone to have a gander without concern. It is only her who isn't supposed to be getting enjoyment out of it, and I am surprised to say she seems to have found a way to hide her naughty thoughts and focus on the lesson the pain is supposed to be providing." It was the second begrudging compliment Delilah had awarded Jamie since the punishment began. Jamie tried to contain the look of self-satisfaction that spread on her face and remain contrite. Doctor Hooker took his place behind Jamie's ass and told her pedantically, "You will count these out and thank me, just as you have the others." Jamie wasn't sure why he felt the need to repeat the instructions she already had been given. In truth he didn't know either – he was just breaking the awkward silence and wanted something to say. 'Swishfffffft' the switch bit into Jamie's ass with the full strength of a powerful arm, far greater than she had anticipated given he was probably in his late fifties or early sixties. "Forty-One, thank you Sir for making my punishment sting." "Wow, do you work out?" Jimmy asked, given the sound of the cracking rod alone had made the boys wince. "No, before I was retired, I owned a farm in the country. Hard work will give you rough hands and strong muscles." Doctor Hooker answered while delivering another crack shot to Jamie's flanks. "Forty-Two, thank you Sir for taking the time to teach me to be a better slut." "It sounds like she says Farty-Two." Gordon joked causing laughter to ripple from the boys as the Doctor delivered another painful reminder and then another to Jamie's backside. "I thought you were a college professor." Gordon asked after his laughter subsided at how Jamie pronounced forty. "I've been many things in my life, from a simple farmer, to a shaper of young minds, teaching English Literature. You can be anything you want to be, if you set your mind to it Gordon." The Doctor said as he delivered another swish of his rod. He was aware he was rapidly depleting his ten strikes and having waited this long, was wishing for ten more. He didn't think he would enjoy hurting the girl but he was. There wasn't a trace of guilt. Possibly because she sounded so genuine each time she thanked him. "Can Jamie be anything she WANTS to be?" "Yes she could." the Doctor answered without a second thought. "So why does she choose to be a naughty girl?" Gordon asked. "You would have to ask her why that is." Doctor Hooker was concentrating on his final parting shot as he answered. "I choose to be a naughty girl, because I am foolish and make bad choices Sir. I didn't respect my betters and I didn't appreciate the privileges I had before they were taken away from me." Jamie answered, remaining bent over, fairly certain she had just won the bet and remained for the most part cum-free. She was sweating and her ass was welted red but she had dodged a fairly severe consequence of losing to Delilah and that was a tremendous relief. "So if you could be a good girl who didn't get punished, would you?" Gordon asked what seemed like a question with an obvious answer. "Yes Sir, I would be good and not have made the same choices." Jamie's answer was predictable and immediate. "I call bologna on that" Gordon sounded disappointed in the answer he got. "How do you mean sir?" Jamie answered sweetly and more than a bit confused. "You smiled like an angel every time someone hit you with the rod, called you a name or touched you." That shocked Jamie but suddenly the others were aware of it too and nodding. Doctor Hooker shook his head in complete understanding, "Out of the mouths of babes!" Jamie's thighs were shaking as the muscles strained to hold her in place, in part from the stress of being bent over this long, and possibly the sudden realization they may be right. "I didn't think I would enjoy punishing you and now I realize it was because every time I did you gave me that all-American girl next door smile to reassure me that you needed my discipline. I thought I might feel ashamed that I had hurt you, but I agree it was the perfect smile that made this a guilt free exercise – thank you for that." "You are welcome Sir?" Jamie answered somewhat confused. She had often been complimented on her blue eyes and smile but in her mind she always thought she looked like a cartoon fairy with a goofy smile that she couldn't turn off. "I am going to check you for arousal if that is okay with you?" Jamie only gave a deliberate and broad smile in answer to Doctor Hooker's warning. He put his hand all along her pussy lips and felt along the ridge and creases before saying, "I think you passed the test, good job." Jamie's sweet girl next door smile shone on Delilah but this time there was a subtle edge of menace to it as she silently noted her triumph in the bet they had made. "Will one of you please remove the broom from my asshole? I think Delilah will want to walk me home." Jamie's words were a subtle way of reminding Delilah about her promise to walk over to her house and ask for punishment. "Now darling, you can't just come on over here, get your punishment and run. That just isn't very polite." Delilah's sweet and sassy southern accent was dripping with honey, but laced with an edge that said she still had another card to play. "Actually Ma'am, I really have to get home soon or my father will punish me. Did you want to get dressed to accompany me?" There was no mistaking the subtext of the request from Jamie. She had won the bet and she was letting Delilah know it was time to pay the piper. The guys in the room were completely oblivious and didn't read anything into her cheery tone. "Actually slut, you've got your peanut butter all up and down my Auntie's broom stick and I know she'll ask whose ass was reamed with it, so why don't you be a good little girl and suck it clean." Delilah took her time easing the broom handle out of Jamie's tortured ass and the boys laughed when it came out with a sudden 'pop'. Jamie gave what she thought was a look of disgust when she saw the dirty streaked broom handle but it only appeared to be a comical double take which lightened the mood even more. Jamie turned to face her audience and put her mouth around the wooden tip of the broom dutifully. "Canthp I taketh my handseth off my assetth cheeps?" Jamie spluttered the question with the broom in her mouth. It was no longer facing them and her ass genuinely ached in every conceivable way from the torture she had just received. "You do that very well, you must have been practicing with the gag in." Delilah sounded delighted when she answered her. "Why don't you hold that backdoor open a little longer, you never know if my Aunt might walk in and want a look at you splayed out here before her nephews." Jamie winced at the thought of how much drama and explanation it would take to deal with Mrs. Waxerman if she walked in at that moment. "Unless your deep throat skills are much better than your brother lets on, you are going to have to lick around the edges of that broom and not try to shove the hole six inches down your throat. I want it perfectly clean." It was mostly greasy lard with a little bit of Jamie's ass juice but the boys regarded it as if she had a poop popsicle and laughed hysterically while Jamie adjusted to lick the entire measure of the broom that had been in her ass completely clean. "Go get the marker, Gordon." Delilah commanded without taking her eyes off the prone girl sucking on the broom handle like it was a tender blowjob. Jamie whined ever so slightly but only Delilah heard her pitiable moan. "Waxerman's are good for their word, Kitten. You took your punishment like a big girl and you didn't get aroused." Delilah put her hands on her hips and pulled her blouse over her head revealing a lacey white underwire bra. "Oh put your eyes back in your head, you've seen boobs before." Delilah chided her stunned brothers. "Look at Doctor Hooker," Delilah reached behind her back and unclasped the bra revealing freckled shoulders and pert lily-white dew-drop boobs. "He isn't shocked by this, but then again as an M.D. he probably saw women unclothed every day." "Actually, my doctorate is in literature." James answered dryly. He was drinking the country girl's 16 year old body in but he was just better at not looking like a ravenous hound or excited hyena than her brothers were. "Books need doctors?" Jimmy asked very surprised. "Yes, some are beyond repair, but every now and then I can resuscitate a dead one." Doctor Hooker's joke was more for his own benefit than Jimmy would understand. He continued to look on with interest at what Delilah would do next. She was tying her hair back into a pony tail when Gordon came back in and handed her the marker with a shocked expression on his face. "This is why when I get punished, Auntie doesn't let you wolf hounds peep." "We do peep though." Zeke admitted to a hail of arm punches from his brother's for letting the cat out of the bag. "You don't think I know that?" Delilah gave him a lemony smile that was universal fo, r "No shit, Sherlock". "You gonna walk her home topless?" Gordon asked as he looked down at Jamie still twerking the broom with just her mouth while she held her ass cheeks apart on all fours. "No, but I am going to find a new home for that broom if you don't stop staring at my boobs and asking me dumb questions. I am going to make a swim suit out of some old clothes that don't fit me anymore. If little miss sass here can walk down the street like a hooker from Babylon, then so can I." Delilah changed tones from bratty and domineering older sister to sweet country girl and asked Doctor Hooker as she held out the open marker for him, "I am going to escort this girl home after she finishes. Would you be so kind as to write, "Dirty Tramp – Gift to the Taylor Family" on my belly kind sir?" "I'd be absolutely delighted." Doctor Hooker put his arm behind Delilah's back to cradle her while he wrote in big black letters exactly what she asked him to write. Jamie let out a soft moan of anguish while this was happening and Delilah shushed he, r "Oh, suck my toes, if you finished with the broom. You'll wait until I am ready – and don't think there won't be a message written on you either whore!" Much to Delilah's surprise Jamie took her seriously and began to lick her toe with the same careful expertise she had that broom. Delilah didn't want to admit that it felt good but it did – really good. "Can you write, "For Chris" and put an arrow pointing down my belly and, "What's your father's first name, slut?" Delilah didn't sound the slightest bit nervous giving these instructions and asking these questions as she stood shirtless in her Aunt's parlor. "Wrile Call him Slurr, but hillz nameff iffzz Bill, Marrzmz" Jamie's reply was muffled by Delilah's big toe being serviced by her tongue. "Please write, 'Bad Girl 4 Bill' on my back with an arrow, Sir?" Delilah sounded somewhat impatient as she asked the Doctor to scrawl that on her body. Doctor Hooker had finished writing it when Delilah pushed Jamie's face away from her toe so that she could pull down her shorts and red laced panties "We don't have time for me to shave all of my womanhood." Delilah stood with her hands on her hips as if giving the boys a necessary minute to stare at her dark brown chestnut pubic hair. "Beaver!" Jimmy couldn't believe his sister was undressing in front of him. "Yes, Beaver." She had a 'get over it' look on her face as she rolled her eyes and turned around for Doctor Hooker "Can you write 'Be a little hard on the Beaver, tonight Ward' on my thigh and put an arrow, and then on my behind, would you put 'WH' on THIS cheek, and 'RE' on the other and well ... You know where the 'O' goes don't you. Doctor?" Delilah was summoning up equal parts Betty Page's sassy raw sexuality and Marylyn Monroe's playful charm as she pointed to each of her cheeks while making the request. Jamie made a low mewling sound like she might almost be in pain which stopped Doctor Hooker as he was about to apply the marker to Delilah's thigh. Delilah started to tell her to hush so that they could get this painful ordeal over. She was going to march down to the Taylor house and offer her own ass for punishment and as part of her hidden agenda find a way to get to know Chris even better. She hadn't expected to lose the bet but now that she had she would at least embrace it and find a way to turn it to her advantage. Jamie wasn't IN pain. She had rolled onto her back and her legs were spasming as she pulled her pussy lips hard so that it almost seemed as if she were trying to lift a tiny garbage bag liner from its basket. She was flicking her clit hood and tugging her piercing while she made sucking sounds with her two front teeth and rolled around on the floor uncontrollably. This was what Chris would have called "Pulling a Jamie" and the last time she had a tidal wave of uncontrollable ecstasy pour through her was the night at the fair. It might have been the intense pain of the tattoo and the way the piercing lifted and pulled her tender clit meat out of her body. It might also have been the intense sexual arousal of being on display and humiliated with her mother that night. It might have been the hormone treatments they had been on that had been doing strange things to their minds while they filled their tits. One thing was for certain, Jamie was rolling around on the floor like a struggling new-born calf and now her breasts had begun to uncontrollably leak slightly yellowish white fluid as milk began to drip out. "What is happening?" Jimmy looked at the girl writhing in absolute wanton lust on the ground. They all were staring at her undulating and making almost dolphin like primal moans as if she hadn't a care in the world. "What is HAPPENING is that I just won a little white bet" Delilah said pulling her shorts back up to her waist with a wicked grin and buttoning them back up. ------- Chapter 12: Duh, Winning! STAR COUNT: WENDY: 51 Get out of jail cards: 1 WHORE: 5,3,0,0,1 JAMIE: 59 Get out of jail cards: 1 WHORE: 4,3,0,0,0 "Look at the blue veins popping out of her neck!" Zeke who ordinarily remained quiet observed as everyone in the room chuckled at Jamie's uncontrollable mind-blowing whore-gasm on the floor. She mewled like a baby and pulled her hair while making kissing lips for almost two full minutes. Tiny blue veins throbbed down her ordinarily graceful swan like neck as she rode the avalanche of pent up sexual frustration flowing through her body. The Waxerman brothers had no idea what caused the girl to short-circuit this way. She seemed to be flopping around like a fish that had just been pulled out of water except she seemed to be halfway between pain and pleasure. "Should we stop her?" Doctor Hooker asked aloud to no one in particular. "I don't think we could if we wanted to. She'll peter out soon." Delilah predicted with a smirk and sure enough a few seconds later with a sigh and a gasp the sex train Jamie was riding came to a stuttering halt as she lay flat on her back looking up at the ornate ceiling fan in Mrs. Waxerman's parlor. "Having fun?" Delilah asked sarcastically. Jamie was still catching her breath – her heart was pounding with the tingle of sexual fulfillment. "I am sorry about that, Ma'am. I don't know what came over me." Jamie admitted sweetly as she let out another long breath to cool down from her involuntary orgasm. "Let me venture a theory your way," Delilah was fully clothed again as she pivoted her weight onto her right hip to lean casually as she stood over the sweaty, bruised beautiful girl on the floor. "You were able to fool us for fifty swats that you weren't getting off on your punishment but then after it was over, you got turned on by sucking that broom handle in front of us and started scooting your ass around my Aunt's Victorian era wool rug?" Jamie was about to plead that she wasn't sure when Delilah hushed her with a nudge to the ribs by her foot. "Hush, I wasn't finished," Delilah shushed the girl. "Your muscles were sore, your body exhausted and what put it over the top was seeing me prepare to go to your house to ask for discipline with you. You got off on my anticipated humiliation and shame didn't you slut?" Jamie was quiet for an uncomfortable second before swallowing and with mind-racing about whether or not that was true answered calmly, "You win the bet, Ma'am, I've been a naughty little tramp and I would appreciate it if the four men in the room would fuck my ass." Jamie paused to lick her lips slowly as she summoned the courage to add, "Please put something in my asshole before I leave so the cum does not drip out until I get home so I can show my brother and father that I've learned my lesson tonight, Ma'am." "Why should only the guys get to have fun? Can't I tie on a strap-on and bust that ass too?" Delilah's sassy accent took a more raunchy and daring tone. "Yes Ma'am," Jamie answered with urgency, "You could." Delilah chuckled, "No hesitation in your answer. That is funny. If we had one around here I probably would." It was possible both girls were thinking to themselves that Mrs. Waxerman was just twisted enough to have an antique strap-on dildo hidden away in a dresser drawer. "Why don't you stop dripping your cunt juice all over my Aunt's rug and get off your ass and beg properly for my brothers and Doctor Hooker to take you up the ass?" Delilah finally said after a quiet pause. "Are you sure your brothers are ready for something like this?" Doctor Hooker shifted uncomfortably. He had seemed apprehensive before the punishment began but now he looked downright unsure. "She sucked their cocks at the pool party yesterday, so I think their ready. You boys want to put your ding-dongs in her fudge factory?" Delilah's confident question was met with pleased cheers by her brothers. "Lucky guys." The Doctor quietly reminisced about his own youthful education in the ways of sexuality but that was another story for another audience. "I guess I learned when I was about your age too." He didn't remember himself being so naïve and goofy at that age but he chuckled to himself that he probably wasn't too different from them after all. "Should I go first?" He seemed to be letting Delilah call the shots and set the pace and she was happy to oblige. "Sure, it can go by age if you want. You can explain how to mount her – just make her beg for your dick first. It is only fair since she said she wasn't going to get turned on by this punishment and broke her word." She was looking right at Jamie. Jamie for her part, despite her hair being out of place, make up running down her face, as if she had been crying, was doing her best to stay bright and positive. It was what most people expected of her and on some level the familiarity of that gave her confidence. She had never been gangbanged in the butt and if she let herself think about it too much the fear of the unknown might have made her break down and actually cry. She sat up and crawled over to Doctor Hooker. At his feet she begged, "Please Sir, I got off on my punishment like a VERY naughty girl and I knew the consequences of that but did it anyway. I couldn't help myself Sir. Please will you fuck me in the ass right here – PLEASE Sir?" she reached for his belt and began to unbuckle it. The Doctor's nervousness faded as he stood up to help the girl remove his pants. He put out of his mind that he'd be standing in a room with his neighbor's nephews and his pants off. "If you insist. Should we use lubrication?" Jamie took his underwear down slowly revealing a rather large but flaccid cock. The Doctor's balls hung lower than any she had seen before which made his dick seem all the more sizable. "Why waste lube when I can use my spit, Sir?" was all she said as she cupped his dick in her hands to guide it in between her wet lips and suck it. "Oh no! You aren't going to suck them off to get out of taking it up your poop chute!" Delilah's colorful terms for body parts rivaled her brother in every way. "No Ma'am, I had no intention, only to prepare him." Jamie was able to say almost clearly while holding Doctor Hooker's cock head in her mouth. It was obvious she had practiced that one. "Your ass is still greased from the broom stick, and from the looks of your sloppy cunt, you could dig a finger in there and coat him that way. No more stalling." Doctor Hooker still had his shirt on which suited him just fine because his shirt-tails served to cover most of his ass cheeks while he stood there without any pants on, now fully erect. Jamie turned around so that she could bend over the love-seat for him and hold herself up with her elbows. She had her hands behind her back holding her ass cheeks open to help guide him in to her backdoor. He at first wanted to give instructions on how to take it slow and work two fingers into her ass before seating his cock in but his dick sank into the well-worked asshole. "Like throwing a hotdog down a hallway is it?" Delilah's cold remark made James uncomfortable. "In her defense, it's actually a nice snug fit." He was moving his dick in and out at a nice leisurely pace. He didn't want to think about the fact the boys were watching but he decided to address them anyway. "I had an Uncle who once told me a joke. He said this old Bull was on the hill with a young one looking down on some fine young calves. The young bull says 'hey, let's run down there and fuck one of them!' And the Old Bull looks at him slowly and says 'No let's WALK down and fuck ALL of them'." James hadn't realize he had been fucking Jamie's ass in time to punctuate his story but it made the Waxerman boys laugh all the more. Jimmy had his pants down around his ankles and had begun to touch himself without saying anything while they watched. "Oh for crying out loud Jimmy," his sister noticed he was jerking off and at first she was going to admonish him for not being able to wait but decided instead to say, "As long as you don't blow your load in her mouth, go ahead and stand in front of her. You might as well get hard. You are on deck anyway." Jimmy didn't need to hear it twice – he was on the couch with his legs apart and Jamie instinctively offered her open mouth to suck his cock just as she had the day before at the pool. Zeke and Gordon were looking at their sister with puppy dog eyes. "Oh fine, she's got two hands. Go ahead and get on either side of her but the first one of you who cums anywhere but her ass is going to suck it up and spit it down her Hershey highway, got it?" They nodded excitedly but neither boy was quite sure if she was serious. They didn't hesitate dropping trousers and letting Jamie take each of their cocks in her hand to stroke them while Doctor Hooker gave her a beef injection from the rear. "You've had this many cocks at one time before, I take it?" Jamie had her mouth full but she nodded yes. The certainty with which she answered made her feel a pang of guilt inside but the casual way it was accepted as obvious compounded it. "Then let's see you get a little less nervous and not act like you are afraid those dicks will bite you." Delilah's suggestion lit a fire in Jamie to back into Doctor Hooker. She had been letting him fuck her butt at his pace but now she began to actively fuck herself onto his dick. She gyrated her hips as she brought herself down on him like she had seen her mother do when the two of them had been together playing with each other for the amusement of Chris and Bill. She could see how it worked much better on a man than it had her because James had stopped fucking all together. He was holding her ass cheeks tightly and she couldn't see his face but his toes curled and he was shouting "No, no ... no". He had wanted to hold out much longer and savor this but he had been teased so much previously that shooting his full load of cum into the dark recesses of her ass was inevitable and he was disappointed it was over. He had felt so powerful and in control driving her from behind and now he just wanted to put on his pants and get out of there. He pulled out and that is exactly what he did without saying more than a "Thank you, we'll do this again some time." And showing himself out the door. Delilah warned Jimmy he needed to get behind her quickly before any of "it" dribbled out. He was only too happy to oblige as he popped his dick out of her mouth and took Doctor Hooker's place. His brother Gordon raced to take his place in her mouth. Zeke seemed dejected as if he had been snubbed once again. Jamie was always a sucker for the underdog – Which might be why she often felt guilty that she was aware that her brother had been one and she didn't stand up for him. She silently pantomimed for Zeke to come around to her front and she guided his dick into her mouth next to his brother's. "Is this Gay, Sis?" Gordon asked Delilah in a tone ordinarily reserved for asking a rule clarification in the game of Monopoly. "It isn't gay when two dicks touch, if you are both in a slut's holes." Delilah answered as if that was obvious. There was a hint that she was impressed Jamie could fit both cocks in her mouth and suck them. She had her hands on their hips holding them together while getting reamed from behind by Jimmy. Jimmy might have hurt a woman if he had started fucking her ass this way. He was moving back and forth like a jack rabbit slamming his dick in and only because she was already so loose and greased up could Jamie stand it. She didn't fuck him back the way she had Doctor Hooker he was too herky jerky and moving without rhythm. "The little slut wants you to move in a cadence. You keep slipping out and bumping pelvic bones." Delilah critiqued him as she rated her brother's awkward performance. "How do you know so much about butt fucking?" Jimmy challenged his sister. "I just do - now never you mind and move like this." She stood behind him and put her hand on the flat of his back and guided him at a medium pace in and out. He came in less than 30 seconds. "Good, now pop off and let Gordon have a turn." Delilah sounded so cock sure at this point you might have thought this was a normal Sunday evening for her the way she acted like it was so completely normal to be orchestrating a gang bang between your brothers and another girl in your living room. Gordon wasted no time getting behind her and Delilah even guided his dick into Jamie's spread ass cheeks. "Don't get all excited, I am going to let the slut lick my hands clean after it's touched you." Delilah put her hands up to Jamie's mouth while she continued to suck Zeke's entire dick. "Hey, I want to get MY dick washed after it's been up a poop hole." Jimmy sounded like he felt cheated that he wasn't getting his dick sucked. "She'll wash her peanut butter off your dick, won't you slut?" Delilah held Jamie's hair and pulled her head up so she could lick her hand. Jamie could only nod yes and continue sucking from one end and fucking from the other –rocking back and forth. "Don't get any sweat or drip cum on Auntie's prize love seat – or do. I am sure she'll have some choice consequences for it." Delilah warned as she let go of Jamie's hair and let her brother Jimmy introduce his dick back into her mouth next to Zeke's cock. "Don't go anywhere let me get a few photos of this." Delilah went to find an old fashioned camera while her brother Gordon pounded Jamie from behind. While she was gone Gordon popped his load into Jamie's ass and leaned into her shouting "I DID IT! I AM NOT A VIRGIN!" "You aren't an ANAL virgin anymore." Jimmy laughed, "You still have to do pussy, to be a man!" Gordon stroked Jamie's long blonde hair and asked politely, "Can I stick it into your pussy for one second to be not a pussy virgin?" Jamie couldn't speak with two cocks stuffed in her mouth she only shook her head no in a rather animated fashion. "Fine then, I didn't want to anyway," he pouted. "Should I stay like this until Sis gets back?" he asked his brothers while leaning up against her ass cheeks in a resting position. Sweat was dripping off his stomach down her back. "You want to make Delilah mad?" Jimmy asked. "Fine, but I've got to rip one." Zeke answered in that same conspiratorial tone Jamie had heard them use so many times in the backyard before she ever met them in person. "So rip one." Jimmy answered. There was a loud "Friiiiiiiiiiiipppppppppppp" followed by laughter from all the boys at Zeke's vulgar and unrepentant flatulence. They were starting to grow very comfortable with this situation and they were all three smiling like a triple penetration gang bang was no big deal. Their behavior hadn't slowed Jamie from continuing to suck the two dicks in her mouth. Gordon said, "Wow, you think if she farted right now white stuff would fly out?" "You better NOT find out. She is gonna show her brother and dad just how much you appreciated her performance tonight. If she lets one rip, I am sure they will be disappointed she didn't bring it home to show them what a good little slut she is." Delilah answered from the archway to the kitchen holding the antique camera up to her eye and snapping a picture. The flash stunned the boys but Jamie continued to work their dicks without pause. "Okay, are you done back there or taking a break?" Delilah asked Gordon with impatience. "Done, Ma'am" Gordon answered instinctively. "It's not Ma'am when you are talking to me, but stop standing there and go get in front. Zeke you are up." Delilah impatiently rolled her eyes at Gordon. Zeke's uncircumcised dick was much larger in width and length and the shaft of extra skin seemed to hide even more dick but Jamie had explored that at the pool party the day before. Jamie felt that there was a pouch inside her ass where all the poop was stored but Zeke's dick seemed to be slamming against whatever boundary separates that space from her stomach because she could feel something so deep inside her that it was making her want to make 'squee' noises. She had to let Gordon and Jimmy's dick out of her mouth to gasp for air and breathe in. "You better learn to breathe through your nose, girly girl!" Delilah chided in a derisive 'you are doing it wrong' tone. Jamie was too far into a rhythm with Zeke to even notice what was being said to her and who was touching her where. She was grinding and gyrating her ass on his waist as if she had a hunger for him to drive it further into her and impale her. Her fingers spread out back to the couch to give herself some leverage and she dug them into the throw pillows. "Aye, Aye, Aye!" she found herself calling out for the first time since this began while still trying to keep the boys' dicks in her mouth. Delilah encouraged her to continue, "That's it slut, tell him you want it." "Please fuck me in the ass, please make it hurt, please bust my ass wide open!!" The boys were spearing their cocks in her cheeks in and out so as not to touch each other's penis while she spoke. Jamie might have been picturing her father earlier today who had taken her anal cherry or Mr. Young or even Bradley Jenkins but she found she had no inhibition about talking dirty. She let out a litany of cuss words many of which would have resulted in an immediate punishment had the boys' aunt heard them. When Jamie finally stopped bucking she realized that the boys all had their pants on and were watching her riding the broom, that she had begun the exercise with (and not remembering how it got there) in her ass. "Oh, are you done?" Delilah said in a mockingly sweet tone. "We thought we'd just let you keep talking dirty and fucking your dirty shit box on the broom handle." Jamie didn't have any memory of when Zeke had cum and pulled out or the broom handle being put back up her ass. "Sorry Ma'am, I got carried away." Jamie was sweating and genuinely embarrassed at how aggressive she had become in the last few minutes (more than all the rest of this experience). Jamie's hair was disheveled, looking like a complete wreck (she would come to know the look as 'freshly fucked'). She began to pull herself off the broom handle that she had impaled herself onto wantonly. "What are you doing?" "Getting off so you can walk me home, Ma'am?" "Oh don't you think you 'got off' more than once already?" Delilah asked with a sneer. Jamie wasn't sure how to respond – only waiting for instructions. She had meant sliding off the broom handle but she instantly caught the derisive double-entendre' and knew it was a joke –at her expense. "I was going to walk you home on your hands and knees anyway like Mr. Snips. I might as well take you home like this." Delilah looked down at the naked teenager on all fours. "But Ma'am, what if..." Jamie started to ask in shock. "Oh like that little string bikini covered anything? It is dark outside. It's already 8pm. You really think your reputation will suffer a bigger hit if they see you in a string bikini instead of down on the ground like the dog you are?" "Please Ma'am? Just not completely naked!" just the fact that Jamie felt it was up to Delilah how she walked home pleased Delilah. In truth she had absolutely no authority over her at all but Jamie's conditioning the past week had made her fairly easy to convince otherwise. Jamie's skin shone with a coat of her own sweat from the fucking she had just endured and in this light it looked positively electric as she remained obediently in position. "Is that how you ask me nicely?" Delilah twisted the broom handle slightly. "Pretty please Ma'am, with extra sugar on top?" Jamie begged as she gasped in shock in what must be one of the boy's favorite manners because they all giggled when she did. Zeke smirked "With a cherry on top?" "Pretty please Ma'am, can I walk home with my bikini and just my finger up my ass, with extra sugar on top and TWO cherries?" Jamie sounded genuinely concerned about the short walk to her home in the nude. A fact that only amused Delilah given how little risk she felt there was of anyone being out that time of night. "Fine, you WILL keep one finger in your asshole at all times. You WILL obey me all the way home and I will watch you show your Dad and Chris what you've got back there. Not a word about what I have written on my belly, got it?" Delilah conceded reluctantly. It was all an act. She was secretly pleased to have Jamie under her thumb this way. "Absolutely Ma'am, will you help me get my suit on, please?" Jamie agreed and wiggled her ass for the broom handle to finally come out of her pussy. Jamie's string bikini was so tiny it covered almost nothing and only enhanced her nudity in ways. The fact she had pulled the thong off to the side in the back so she could put one finger up her ass only added to her humiliation. "Say goodbye to the boys, let's get you home before my Aunt gets here." Delilah made Jamie say a polite goodbye as she walked her out the door and on to the sidewalk. The Doctor had already excused himself without a word making Jamie wonder what impression she may have left him with. It was still light out when they had begun the punishment and now that it was dark it was sinking in to Jamie she was probably in a lot of trouble for being gone so long. Delilah and Jamie walked a short distance while Jamie reflected on the day's events – with the most recent still replaying in her mind. "Awful quiet - it isn't like I gagged you." Delilah asked sweetly in what sounded like an almost apologetic way. "I am sorry Ma'am, I was just thinking about what will happen when I get home." "What will happen is I will tell them all about how good you were tonight." Delilah smiled sweetly as she walked next to Jamie on the darkened sidewalk of their neighborhood. "Wow, really?" "Yes, and then you'll squat and pull that finger out of your ass and lick whatever comes out off of the kitchen floor like a good little piggy while your brother and I laugh." Delilah's tone became sadistic and Jamie looked down with a pout. "Oh C'mon, why the long face? I bet you just soiled that bikini with fresh cunt juice thinking about it, didn't you?" There was a quiet pause as the two walked along the sidewalk. Jamie wanted to hurry but she knew they would probably draw even more attention if she were jogging. "I don't know what I feel. This is all so confusing." She admitted. "I know you don't want me to spank you right here on the sidewalk. Don't get too familiar with me, Fart face." Delilah demanded very seriously. It took Jamie a moment to realize she had slipped in her protocol and that was something she had almost never done. "I am SOO sorry Ma'am. I neglected to refer to you as my better! I suppose you'll want me punished when we get home, Ma'am?" Jamie was truly apologetic. A tiny piece of her subconscious would wrestle with whether or not she had intentionally made the mistake or it really was the result of a simple mistake after hours of sexually charged training and discipline. "No, I'll let that one slide." Delilah smirked that she still held all the cards. She enjoyed toying with Jamie and offering her friendly advice only to knock her back down. She liked how Jamie seemed to want to confide in her but needed a little shove. She felt Jamie was even easier to manipulate than her twisted Aunt. She would offer an unexpected kindness and see if she could gain the girls trust. "I just well, we didn't start out with the intention that things should get so sexual and twisted. This began as a way to give the guys payback after we sort of put them through the ringer." Chris had already confided in Delilah this story from his perspective but she let Jamie talk about how she felt guilty for humiliating her father and brother and looking down on them. Her brother had seemed like a loser at school and she hadn't defended him. Delilah made 'tsk, tsk' noises as if she thought that was terrible and added "We're home schooled so I don't know what that is like." In truth, Delilah had been to public school before and she also knew she would have mocked her own brothers without a second thought but she felt there was no point in ruining the girl's story by pointing out those details. Jamie explained how at first her mom and her had plotted how to end the agreed upon slavery early while still giving the men the satisfaction of payback. That she hadn't expected to learn so much about herself and change. She mentioned how she was worried she'd be kicked out of school and what that might mean to her. Jamie explained how the hormone pills, and the constant discomfort of the piercings and the steady diet of discipline all seemed to mix together into a perfect storm and blow her away. Delilah wasn't sure what Jamie was trying to say but warned her, "Keep that finger ALL the way up your asshole, don't let it drop out." She wasn't sure if any would actually come out when they got to the Taylor house but she enjoyed watching Jamie uncomfortably dig in her ass with her finger none the less. "Go on and continue, I think I see where you are going with this." Jamie rambled a little more about how she had mixed feelings about what she had been doing. She admitted some times to genuinely enjoying her predicament and how the white-alert had begun more as a way to scare Mrs. Waxerman away. That amused Delilah and she pointed out they must not know her Aunt very well if they thought they could get rid of her that easily. "That is the thing – the more we played with her head, the more she dug herself into our couch and begged us to continue even though she acted disgusted." Delilah only nodded her head as Jamie told her that. "What happened was all of these shared experiences at the pool party, today at the flea market, the county fair and with your Aunt, they've made us come together more as a family. I think on some level it isn't about sexual pleasure as much as it is this exciting adventure and we are all on it together." "Sounds like fun" Delilah was disappointed she hadn't dug up any dirt on the girl. She wanted to hear her plans to run away or something she could use to blackmail her but Jamie had come across like a Polly-Anna Pureheart type who was confused but determined to see it all through and bring her family together. "You know my brothers are completely in love with you." Delilah abandoned her previous line of question for another. It was more a tactic to avoid feeling sympathy for the brave girl than it was to uncover secrets. "Oh?" Jamie sounded genuinely flattered about the boys who only fifteen minutes earlier had dog piled her ass. "Don't be coy with me Jamie Taylor. You had them in the palm of your hand tonight." "That is true, I think I had each of them in the palms of my hands at one point- and my mouth, and my ass Ma'am". Jamie answered with a good natured poke at her situation. Delilah grinned at the gallows humor. She had spent hours talking to Chris the day before and found him to have just as many layers to his personality. Delilah noting they were almost to the Taylor House asked if Jamie was nervous. "No Ma'am, I was more nervous someone would pass by and I'd have to explain myself." Jamie admitted truthfully. Her father and brother could be harsh but she was looking forward to the predictability of how they ran the household. The adventure she had just had was eye opening but she took solace in knowing what she was going to get from Bill and Chris – The Devil you know versus the one you don't. "Oh pish-tosh," Delilah could come across as sassy and street smart but she still had some of Mrs. Waxerman's country speech which surprisingly didn't sound completely out of place coming from such a young girl. If one peered into her dark ravenesque eyes, most would come away with the opinion she was an old soul - the rest might come away with the impression she was Wednesday from the Addam's Family. Jamie considered Delilah's comment curiously. "Oh don't give me that naïve look. I know all about Bradley Jenkins." Delilah looked away so as to hide the growing smile of anticipation on her own face. Then after letting Jamie think about that statement she turned to add "What do you think your brother and I talked about at the pool party yesterday? – You! dear girl." They walked in silence for the rest of the way up Jamie's driveway. Jamie explained as she stepped out of her bikini at the door that she was required to be naked but realized half way through awkwardly stepping out of the tiny string bikini that Delilah had expected nothing less. Delilah whispered, "Keep your finger up your ass until we get to the kitchen. Your family probably doesn't know I am well aware of the white protocol, so let's keep that between you and me." Jamie wanted to ask if Chris had told her how he wouldn't know but she decided against it when she saw her mom. Wendy was naked and standing on two chairs positioned in the living room farther than shoulder's width apart. Her hands were bound in either direction over her head so that she was making a human "X". She had a ring-gag in her mouth with a long strand of drool dripping out of it and on to her bare chest. Her body had fresh whip marks all over it and there was a cat of nine-tails inserted handle-first up her ass. The suede strips of cloth from the whip giving the impression of a bushy tail. Wendy's eyes went wide when the two girls walked in signaling their presence, and it had heightened her humiliation. "Hi Mrs. Taylor, I see you are a little tied up at the moment." Delilah teased with the practiced tone of someone who was used to being a total smart-ass. She acted as if Wendy's naked and precarious pose on the chairs was completely normal. Wendy had a pained expression on her face and it looked as if she too might have been crying for some time. Her hair was out of place, her makeup had been running and she looked as if she had gone through a painful ordeal of her own. "I am just bringing your daughter home, any idea where your wonderful Son and handsome husband might be?" Wendy mumbled through the gag trying to enunciate something and Delilah only stifled a giggle. "Sounds like you got marbles in your mouth." Chris walked casually out of the kitchen holding a Pepsi "Oh, we had wondered if you were going to eventually come home." to his sister. Her dad followed next, naked from the waist down. He stopped in embarrassment and began to walk back into the kitchen. "Oh don't worry about it Mr. Taylor. I know I caught you while you were probably getting ready for bed. I just wanted to make sure your daughter came straight home and tell you what a delightful girl she was and how she is welcome around our house any time." Delilah's country accent couldn't have sounded more inviting and sweet right then. "Well thank you so much." Bill maneuvered his hand casually in front of his semi-hard penis as he turned back to face the girls. Delilah smirked that she had made him self-conscious, "It looks like her momma is just as naughty as she is." turning to consider Wendy Taylor shifting her weight on the balls of her feet, struggling not to fall off the chairs. "Yeah, you just missed her attitude adjustment. We were doing a fairly extended affirmation." Chris answered casually. Delilah asked what an affirmation was and he explained how they were given frequently to motivate the girls and keep them focused on discipline and appreciating the privileges they had given up. "So she actually thanks you for keeping her like this, and spanking her behind does she?" Delilah's country accent became even more antebellum and exaggerated like a Georgia peach when talking to Chris. Her eyes lit up when Chris explained the principles behind making the girls think about their shortcomings and show appreciation for the direction they were getting. "Well, that sounds like something to see. I may just have to ask you to spank MY behind some Sunday evening if I am ever in need of your particular kind of motivation." her smile was sexy. "That can definitely be arranged. Can I ask why my sister has her finger up her own ass or shall I guess?" Chris was enjoying Delilah's attention (and apparent admiration) and didn't want her to go home right away. "You sure can be direct," Delilah flirted. "You may just have to ask her that in her next affirmation." Delilah paused before adding as she excused herself."I probably shouldn't be intruding on y'all's 'family time'." Chris asked abruptly "If you can stay for ten more minutes, we have to do a quick affirmation with Sis and then we've got to go out tonight. I'd love to show you." Delilah turned with the graceful precision of someone who had been practiced in charm school and proper manners to ask "You sure it isn't an imposition?" She even glanced up at Wendy with her hands strung up on hooks in the ceiling as if to wait for her consent as well. "Not at all" Chris answered before considering his dad. "I should probably put some sweat pants on." Bill muttered under his breath to himself feeling disarmed in front of a fully clothed Delilah and his son. "I have three younger brothers, Sir. you ain't got nothing I taint never seen before." Delilah's saucy side came out as she added with another glance "Although you are a might bit bigger than they are, you don't have nothin' to be 'shamed of." for his benefit. She was as welcome as anyone could be after that comment as far as Bill was concerned. "Get in the first position slut, so our guest can observe your affirmation." Bill ordered his daughter without hesitation. Delilah cautioned him "You may want to do this in the kitchen over the tile. She brought home a little present from the Waxerman boys. Bill was only delighted to oblige and marched Jamie into the kitchen leaving Wendy alone in the living room balancing naked on the two wooden chairs. Bill and Chris sat down at the kitchen table and folded their arms. "Go on and show me what you brought home, Ass face" he ordered. Delilah grinned into a giggle as she heard the pet name 'Ass face'. She was enjoying this already. Delilah took a seat with the guys at the table to watch Jamie's cum-uppance. Jamie nervously took her finger out of her ass and squatted over the tile floor while they laughed at her. "What are you doing?" Chris asked patiently. "I am squatting so I can drip the cum out of my ass hole Sir?" Jamie's answer sounded more like a question of uncertainty. "I can see that ass face. I am wondering why your legs aren't apart further so we can see your piss flaps, and you haven't stuck your Butterfinger in your mouth to clean it off? You are just waving it in the air like it will clean itself." Chris belittled his sister's dutiful performance. Delilah patted Chris on the knee with a laugh "Oh Butterfinger, that is rich. I'll have to tell my brother's about that one." Jamie had nervously stuck the finger she had up her ass into her mouth to suck it clean. It wasn't covered in shit, her ass had been reamed so many times that it was probably squeaky clean - but the act of licking her own finger clean was still humiliating and a crisp burn to her ego. She parted her legs as wide as she could as she faced the kitchen table so that the piercing on her clit hung down slightly and her pussy lips parted just slightly. "Here let me use my phone, I can send you a video and you can let them watch if they want." Chris repeated the line about the Butterfinger once he had his phone in video record mode. "IF you think it's appropriate your brother's see this." Bill sounded unsure about it. They had promised they wouldn't share tapes of the girls back when this began but so many people had video of the girls at the football game or the fair that it was kind of moot now. "Doctor Hooker and them deposited that cum up your daughter's tight butthole, so I guess talking about it won't be any problem Sir" Delilah answered with her sweet delta burke drawl. "You got any to deposit on the tile or are you going to make us wait here all night?" Bill growled impatiently at his daughter. "Yes Sir, I am trying" Jamie pleaded. It was obvious she was trying to force something out because her cunt lips seemed to breathe on their own as if she was doing kegel exercises. "I thought it would come gushing out, I sure hope she didn't drip it out on the way home. I think you'd really appreciate how much was packed up there." Delilah smirked. It made a kind of sense to Jamie on some level that she had to explicitly say 'cum' but that the others were allowed the privilege of being able to refer to the white sauce as "it" and in general terms. They weren't the ones being disciplined and humbled after all. "Do we have to get your mother down and get her in here to suck it out of your asshole, Ass face?" Bill didn't care one way or the other but he was trying to assert his control. He was watching Delilah's reaction to his comments to see if that was over the line with her. She only smiled back when Jamie pleaded that she just needed more time. "Well just don't shit on the tile or you WILL be licking that up if you embarrass us in front of our guest." Jamie wasn't sure if that was something they could order according to the rules but as many dirty cocks and fingers as she had washed with her own ass butter it wouldn't have surprised her if they did. There was finally a tiny 'queef' sound as air trapped in her pussy released and she was able to pucker her asshole to squirt a tiny amount of cum onto the tile. "Gross, it was like giving a mustard bottle a squeeze." Chris commented with a laugh and Delilah nodded that it was exactly like that – sound and everything. "Is that all?" The three of them sitting at the table facing her – heckling her like an audience disgusted by her performance heightened Jamie's humiliation but didn't lessen her resolve to obey. "I think it may have been too much liquid sir, it isn't dropping out." Jamie pouted. She offered a guess based on her recent introduction to anal sex. "Look at that little dab of cum. It looks like someone spit on the ground. Get down on your hands and knees and put your hands behind your back with your nose directly in it. Who fucked you up the ass tonight, Sis?" Chris asked sadistically. "I was fucked in the ass by Doctor Hooker, Jimmy, Gordon and Ezekial Waxerman also from the pool party." "You mean the Pooper Snoopers don't you?" Bill never liked that nickname the women had given the boys before they knew who they were. "Yes Sir, we used to call them the pooper snoopers, because they were always in our backyard snooping around and they wouldn't tell us their names. I am sorry if that is offensive to them, and I apologize to Delilah as well." Jamie sounded truly repentant as she shifted herself around so that she could support herself with her knees as she faced her ass towards her father and lowered herself down so that the very tip of her elf-like nose rested in the slicky-drippy mess on the tile floor. "I don't see eighty dollars here. Let me guess - you fucked them for free like usual?" "Yes sir, but there were..." Jamie was cut off by her father before she could explain. "God dammit! We cannot offer this poor girl anything but ice water as a guest in our home! We are so fucking tight on money right now." Making no mention of the ice cold beer he had on the table next to him or his son's Pepsi. "You are out spreading that ass for people and deciding to give it away for FREE? Who owns that ass?" Bill knew there was a fine line between angry rants and sounding like he was in control and right now he felt was right on the edge. "You and my brother, Sir. You own my asshole, cunt, mouth, tits and I am your whore." Jamie winced in anguish at having to admit it out loud – even though she had many times since her ordeal began. "We even made special exceptions for you so you could keep your precious virginity. Yet, you could not follow one simple instruction – that was to charge each person who fucks you in that blessed crease of skin you call an asshole of yours for twenty measly dollars. Admittedly, that is probably more than it is worth now that you and your mother have worked the flea market." He added wryly. "Yes sir but..." Jamie started to answer again seriously. "The only butt I see here is the fat one you are wiggling around that you gave away for free tonight while wasting our time making us wait for you to get home?" Bill's anger was smoldering. Chris took over when things got heated during affirmations. They were not supposed to be shouting matches and Bill sat down without saying another word. The two were working well as a tag team and had developed a sort of rhythm in how they delivered affirmations – you might almost call it good cop/bad cop except it was more sadist cop/sadist cop. "You were going to tell us why you let them fuck you up the ass for free. Do you think we are going to forgive you or punish you when we hear your explanation, Ass face?" Chris asked with an aura of confidence and collected calm. "You told me before I left to come home with my ass full of cum, Sir." Jamie answered pleadingly almost in tears. She normally didn't break so easily and remained positive and cheery. She was obviously overly stimulated on many levels and Chris was enjoying her vulnerability. He had a switch at the kitchen table (they were located strategically throughout the house for these occasions). He reached for it and in a fluid motion delivered two strikes across her back. "I don't think you are listening. I asked you a question." "No sir, I don't think you will be happy with my answer and you will probably want to punish me. I do have to tell the truth though and that is what I was trying to do." Jamie was shaking slightly after the swatting she just received and her noble upturned nose was turning slightly red from its position in the slimy goo on the floor. "Tell us the truth then and we'll see if a punishment is warranted." Chris sounded patient and understanding. Jamie shortly summarized how after finishing at Doctor Hooker's house she came over to ask for punishment per the agreement she had made to avoid a punishment card at home and all the events leading up to this point. "You mean you could have been punished here, but you CHOSE to come to our house and ask for punishment? Oh you are a glutton for punishment aren't you?" Delilah chortled. "I wasn't sure what might be on the card, and I had a feeling I knew that whatever it was would be harsher than what your Aunt had in mind for me." Jamie answered. Delilah shook her head in disbelief. She felt that Jamie wasn't being truly honest but Chris and Bill didn't pick up on that subtext and wanted to run the affirmation themselves. Delilah would have explored if Jamie was just stupid or was secretly looking forward to a trip to the Waxerman house for punishment – which is what she suspected. "Did I hear you correctly that you came home four hours AFTER the job was complete from your punishment and the person we explicitly told you to ask for it wasn't even there?" Chris sounded agitated himself although that was probably something of an act. He delighted in these affirmations. "Yes sir, Delilah was the one who administered the punishment. They gave me fifty lashes with the rod to the ass." "Just 50 lashes? And that took all night?" Chris was in disbelief. "They made me go over why I was being punished, and then pushed a broom handle up my ass so that the switch would not slice into my butthole." Jamie flirted with explaining about the fact Delilah knew what 'white alert' meant. She hated keeping secrets and telling lies and it had always backfired on her so far but she also decided it wasn't really relevant and justified not mentioning it. There was a pause as if waiting for more and Jamie added "If I got turned on during the punishment then I was to beg all four of them to fuck me in the ass and come home and admit what a dirty slut I am for getting turned on by my punishment." "Let me guess – you pulled a Jamie at some point?" Delilah laughed 'Pulled a Jamie? That is probably the best description for what she did on my Aunt's rug. She waited until the very last second when she was cleaning off the broom handle with her mouth to start the show." Bill calmly explained "I appreciate you telling us your version and as a guest in our house you don't know this but the affirmation is only effective if the girls answer the questions." Bill had a fairly good mental image of Jamie's uncontrollable orgasm-spasms. Delilah apologized and Jamie confirmed that was what happened. "Delilah had agreed to walk me home wearing a bikini like the one I had on and beg for her own punishment if I didn't get turned on because she was so sure I would get off on my misery and humiliation." "Did you really intend to do that?" Chris had a whole new profound respect for Delilah. "I thought only the girls on trial were supposed to talk," she teased as she lifted her shirt to reveal "FOR CHRIS" and an arrow in black on her tummy. "We Waxerman's are many things, but we always keep our word Sir" she admitted playfully. Chris's eyes got wide as he continued to watch the girl's smiling face after she dropped the shirt down to cover her stomach again. "Hey, it wouldn't be my first beating. I've lived with my Aunt for years, and before that well let's just say that our family can be strict and leave it at that. I was pretty sure your darling slut was going to fail anyway." "I really wish I had seen the entire thing now." Chris's mind was racing with wonder about when and who wrote those words on her stomach and why his name was featured specifically. "What and spoil your sister's affirmation. It seems to me you are enjoying her recounting just how hard my brother's fucked her ass on my Aunt's loveseat?" "Mrs. Waxerman doesn't even know you guys did that?" Chris sounded ecstatic wondering what Mrs. Waxerman will do when she smells sex in the fabric of her furniture and imagining the look of consternation on her face. "Shall I get naked and deliver an affirmation? Otherwise these questions should be delivered at your sister shouldn't they?" Delilah was being coy as she reminded them of Bill's earlier request to let Jamie give the answers. Chris nodded in agreement and despite his wave of confidence he had been riding since gaining authority over his mom and sister he was still too shy to see what would happen if he had said "Yes, you should get naked and join her". He would dream about how things would have gone if he had been bold enough to order that instead of wondering if she was kidding. Instead, he seemed to lose the plot and quiet down lost in his thoughts. "Ass face, do you want to lick up the cum that you just dribbled out of your asshole on the kitchen tile?" Bill took back over for his son who had clearly become distracted with the possibilities of their house guest. "Yes sir, I do." "Why?" "Because you want to see me do it," Jamie answered. "Not good enough," Bill chided her "Why do you think we want to see you gobble that cum?" "Because it amuses you to see me and my mom humbled and begging to lap up cum," Jamie added "and you want to teach me to be a pleasing slut instead of a mean spirited bitch, by stripping me of my vanity and pride this way. You are educating me to appreciate when the choice would have been mine." "Kiss it with your lips, but don't lick it off or swallow any." Bill instructed and his daughter moved her face just enough to pucker and kiss the cum on the floor. "Your brother sent you out and told you to come home with cum up your ass, but he never said to come home without the money. You won't earn any stars for what you did and I am thinking about adding fifty stars to your sentence what do you think about that?" "Fifty stars? Please Sir? I think that a correction is in order to discipline me, but not fifty stars!!" She was genuinely worried. "What, you don't like earning your stars under your brother and me?" Bill chuckled. "No sir, I don't enjoy it, but I accept I am being taught that to submit to someone else's will without doing what makes me happy is my place and I'll earn the 100 I agreed to earn." "So why are you in such a hurry to end your re-education?" Her dad asked her. Jamie was quiet but her dad simply thrashing a rod in the air made her pep up. "I am sorry Sir, I was thinking about how to answer that." With a little subtle prodding from his rod she added "A part of me sees your point." "And?" Bill asked impatiently while folding his arms. "Another part of me is frightened of life like this Sir." "Why?" Bill was less specific in his affirmation questions than Chris was and he tended to sometimes get rambling answers but every now and then he got unexpected ones – like this. "I will probably be kicked out of school tomorrow and if not I will still be "that girl who showed her tittys at the Rams Game" and I can never live some of what I did down. I won't be prom queen, I won't be head cheerleader, I won't get to do any of those things." Jamie sounded exasperated. Delilah smiled graciously and ignoring Wendy's struggles "It is important to be Prom Queen and Head Cheerleader – why?" Bill asked feeling a little sorry for the girl at the moment. "I am not sure, Sir." Jamie had inherited her mother's 'over-achiever' trait and some of that might have just been learned and instilled by being raised by an over-achiever but now she was so confused by the priorities that had always seemed so certain to her before. "You have a very obedient daughter, Sir. You should be very proud." Delilah smiled sweetly. It might have been meant as a subtle back-handed compliment or maybe she really felt that way but she stood up to excuse herself. "I've really got to get home or my Aunt may wonder where I've been." "I really need to introduce you to Cathy Griffin some time. Something tells me you two will either hit it off or scratch each other's eyes out." Chris joked. "I keep hearing her name," Delilah sounded flattered. "I can show myself out, Hi Jimmy, Gordon and Zeke" she added talking into Chris's camera phone, "Hope you are enjoying this video". And with that she sauntered out into the living room. "Don't get up Mrs. Taylor, I can let myself out" she said to the naked, gagged and bound woman balancing in the living room. Chris followed after her "Wait a second, you were willing to get punished by us if my sister had lost, you aren't willing to get punished by your Aunt if you stay a little longer?" Chris and Delilah ignored the muffled Wendy balancing on the chair just next to them. It was obvious her muscles were aching and she was straining to remain in position. "Well, I think I completed my aim by getting her here, I should be going." "Stick around, you can help get my mom and sister ready to go out tonight. We could use your help!" "Oh you could, could you? Well I suppose a Waxerman is always neighborly when asked the right way." Delilah smiled graciously and ignoring Wendy's struggles, the two returned to the kitchen. "So cum-bum, are you turned on right now?" Chris asked his sister as they returned to the kitchen. "A little all the time sir, because of the piercings," Jamie pouted. "Not because you were turned on by having Delilah here?" He dabbed a finger along her pussy lips and sniffed it. "I don't know sir." Jamie was overstimulated both mentally and physically. "Well, she is now officially a key-holder to you and mom." Chris said flatly. "That's right gracious of you, what exactly is that?" Chris said he would explain all the details about the hierarchy of command they had worked out a little later but right now he needed to get the girls ready for a 'night out'. "Oh that does sound like fun" Delilah grinned as he whispered the destination in her ear. "I have a few ideas" she giggled conspiratorially. "Let me show you the routine we usually have to go through to get these two sluts ready to leave the house and you can give me some pointers" Chris smiled. He was absolutely smitten with Delilah. Delilah looked casually over at Bill's erection and wondered if he might just be a bit too. "Wicked" she said with a smile. ------- Chapter 13: Ample Parking In the Rear STAR COUNT: WENDY: 51 Get out of jail cards: 1 WHORE: 5,3,0,0,1 JAMIE: 59 Get out of jail cards: 1 WHORE: 4,3,0,0,0 The Taylor men had hit upon several effective ideas in how they trained the Taylor women. One of them had been the use of routines and rituals in everyday life. The morning routine had at first seemed brutal, extreme and even tedious but as it became repeated it had started to become their version of 'normal'. They did vary the routine at times but they found the girls responded best to structure. The girl's seemed to accept even the most humiliating activity if they had done it enough. Delilah's presence as an active participant had added the fear of the unknown to the mix and the girls were noticeably uneasy. When Bill and Chris were satisfied that Jamie's affirmation had given sufficient thanks for her supervision and training they had her crawl into the living room with her mother. Wendy had been humiliated many times by an audience of leering men in the last weeks. She had not counted on how painful being ignored while she humiliated herself could feel. Each time people walked by as if she didn't exist and just left the room without so much as a glance she had felt humiliation. It was a different kind than the embarrassment she felt when her skirt flew up or someone grabbed her tit. This new feeling of humiliation from being ignored was more subtle. Wendy wondered if part of her own vanity wasn't just offended that she hadn't warranted even a maniacal wringing of the hands and a "Mwuahahahah" from the guys. She didn't want to let on to Chris and Bill that treating her like an object or a fixture to be ignored had made her feel this way. She also knew her daughter might spill the beans if she confided in her so she just pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind while the guys helped her down after untying her wrists from the hooks in the ceiling beams. They left her ring gag in and Bill slapped her hand when she instinctively attempted to break a long string of saliva that had dripped down her bare chest. "Oh I didn't see the tail. That IS cute." Delilah gave a swish to the suede cat of nine tails emerging from Wendy's ass like the bushy cotton tail of a rabbit. Bill had bought several tailed whips ranging from doggy tails to horse tails to this one - It seemed most appropriate to Delilah. Wendy's taut body was bruised, cut and now she was shivering as her muscles reacted to being freed from her captivity but she made no attempt to stop Delilah from playing with the whip-tail. "Yeah, it's neat." Chris plopped it out of his mother's ass revealing a full 7 inches of glistening wooden rod and then pushed it into the O-ring in his mother's gag, "It fits in both" "Well not all the way" Delilah said with a grin. "Mom can take all seven inches!" Chris seemed determined to show her that the length of the rod could go much further down his mother's throat while she murmured in a panic. Bill caught his arm "We really need to get going" "Yeah, that's true ... okay play time is over, Sorry Mom." Chris's tone implied he was cutting of his mother's recreation time as he removed the gag and the two inches of the whip handle he had inserted in her mouth. "Where did you get all these neat play things?" Delilah was impressed with the assemblage of paddles, chains and dildos that seemed to be spread out around the house like kids might do on Christmas day when they first unwrap their gifts. "Actually we just bought them." Chris answered as he unfastened the last snap from his mother's gag. "I thought you were broke?" Delilah sounded confused and a little concerned. "Who do you think was too lazy to tell us we were running out of money?" Bill sounded cross as he slapped his wife on the ass with a leather strap that was handy. "Get on the floor and kiss your daughter's lips, or aren't you glad to see her?" Wendy didn't hesitate to get on the floor and press her lips to Jamie who was being walked like a puppy behind Delilah. She could instantly taste the sticky cum on her daughter's lips and wondering the origin only made it even more creepy. "So what is first on the agenda?" Delilah had her hands on her hips. "We usually let them piss and shit first. In the morning we use a litter box, but because it's dark outside they can just use the backyard." Chris answered plainly. "Oh my, how beastly!" Delilah her voice caught half way between amusement and shock. Chris started to offer an apology about how they were in control of every aspect of the girls and it was a natural body function but Delilah stopped him, "It's okay Chris, I guess there are just some things about your deviousness I am still finding out is all. I saw your sister do way more disgusting things the last two days. I am just sorry my brother's aren't here to watch it – they love this sort of thing." "You still have your camera phone?" Chris offered helpfully. "That I do." Delilah took the phone out of her back pocket, "But isn't that what girly-girl got in trouble for? Not going when she was given the chance?" Delilah bent down to give a playful tickle to Jamie's chin. "You can't just let the two of them wander around in the yard all willy-nilly and trust them to not beg to go five minutes later can you, sweet-ums?" Chris was in awe of Delilah's personal presence and even though he knew the honey in her accent was a form of manipulation – he was liking being manipulated. He shrugged a concession that he wanted to hear Delilah's idea. "Well, let's give them both an enema and a douche at the same time so they can clean out their bottom cavities, while they brush their teeth and clean out the mouths that seem to have given them the most trouble." "A douche?" Chris had used that word a hundred times with his friends and always associated it with an insult or a playful term of affection. Delilah could tell Chris had no idea what one was and she smiled, "Well, it's an awful lot like an enema except it's going to clean out their sweaty pussies. If you have a little vinegar I'll mix up something. Do you want to meet me in the bathroom, Sugar?" Chris was already leading the girls upstairs on all fours as he smiled back his approval. Bill looked at Delilah as Chris led the girls away, "Should I just go put some pants on?" Even Bill had naturally acquiesced to Delilah without being consciously aware of it. "Now if you do that honey, what will the girls use for tooth brushes? Why don't you follow them up there and put a little Aquafresh on there for them and I'll be up directly." She brushed the tip of his half-erect cock with her hand and Bill lit up with a smile as his cock reacted to her intentional teasing. She was carefully balancing her assertive personality with Bill's ego so that he still felt like he was calling all the shots. When Delilah walked into the upstairs bathroom holding several warmed plastic bottles, both Chris and Bill had their pants off. Jamie was squatting and sucking off her father while her mother worked on Chris. "I take it you put enough tooth paste on your peckers for them to get a good brush?" Delilah smirked. Chris and Bill only nodded. Chris was holding his mother by the ears and Bill was actively fucking his daughter's mouth up and down on his cock. "Can I get you two to sit on the sink counter, so I can bend over 'Thing One' and 'Thing Two' here?" Delilah asked. The men silently led the girls with their hands as they sat themselves down so the women's backs were bent. They knew what was coming next and both of them had their legs apart. "I have a feeling these should slide right in." Delilah giggled as she first inserted an enema nozzle into Wendy's ass. She gave it a pat and said, "Wiggle your butt so I know it's in their good." Wendy wiggled and it waggled like a puppy dog tail, "Oh good girl, you are fun!" Delilah slapped Wendy's ass playfully. She repeated the process for Jamie, "Okay Stinker-butt, I know you have had so much packed into your heiney tonight that you may not even feel it." as she pushed the enema nozzle in with a twist and gave it a squeeze to start the slow trickle of water into her bowels. Jamie could only murmur in reply while her father fucked her face. Delilah proceeded to squat down and squirt a little of her homemade douche on the Taylor women's clit hoods, before angling the nozzles into their pussies and pushing them inside. She was certain she heard Wendy moan. "Should we cum?" Bill asked in all seriousness. "Do you want to cum?" Delilah responded playfully. Bill didn't answer as he rapidly began to throat-fuck his daughter and with a, "Take it bitch ... ah, -ah ... ah..." he pulled out. "Don't swallow yet." Delilah reminded Jamie with a swat to the ass. "Oh they know to wait for permission to gobble our cum." Chris said with a serious tone. "Are you enjoying it, or is it just not making you cum?" Delilah asked Chris who was pumping his mother's face at a nice regular pace. "I take a long time to come." Chris answered without hesitation. "Maybe they just aren't doing it right, can I try something?" Delilah was already standing him back up and gently easing Wendy up so that the enema and douche she was receiving didn't fall out. Delilah put one finger behind Chris's bare ass and tapped on his asshole playfully while staring at him with her vixen-like blue eyes. He came almost instantly and more than he had ever had to that point in time. His mother who had fancied herself fairly experienced at deep throating almost gagged trying to hold it all in her mouth. "Here let me get this on camera." Delilah had her pocket camera out and faced towards the faces of the two humiliated women, "You two swap what you got in your mouth with a nice passionate kiss between mother and daughter." Jamie and Wendy had made out several times with each other were a little shy at first, but after awkwardly putting their heads together embraced and passionately began to French kiss. "Don't' swallow any of it." Delilah warned as she held up the camera. "Too late, Ma'am" Wendy offered her open mouth, "I think some of it dissolved in our mouths, I am sorry!" she seemed genuinely apologetic and her voice sounded cracked and strained. "Oh, just admit you are a cum-gobbler and you wanted to swallow the spunk in your mouth, Mrs. Taylor." Delilah said playfully while holding the camera on Wendy's face. "I am a cum-gobbler and wanted to swallow my son's and husband's spunk, and you may call me Cow-tits if you like Ma'am." Wendy answered submissively like she would during an affirmation. "Why is that, Cow-tits?" Delilah impishly responded. "Mrs. Taylor is a sign of respect and authority, and as you can see from my station around here, I am only worthy of scorn and ridicule. My son and husband have decided to refer to me as Cow-tits because of the fake boobs I paid for with money I could have used to help support our household instead of satisfying my vanity." "Oh those are a lot of big-words, care to rephrase for my brothers?" Delilah held the camera out to emphasize her point. Wendy was almost to her breaking point where she felt she might cry, but at the last moment she took a deep breath and started to rephrase, "Sirs, if you are watching this then you know I am the naughty woman who you saw in the back ... oh god, oh god!!" Wendy started to reach behind her arms flailing for the enema bottle in a panic. "No, no keep it in!" Delilah started to put down the phone but Chris got behind his mom and sister and pushed the enema bottles back up their squirming bottles. Jamie too was in anguish and grunting. "You don't mind a little of My Auntie's hot-sauce tonic up your stinky backside do you, Ass Face is it?" Delilah resumed her interview. "No Mistress, you are just opening me up back there so that everything comes out. Thank for the concern for my comfort." Jamie gritted her teeth as she sucked her breath in with her teeth. Her face was turning red and she was still jerking slightly. "Mistress is it now?" Delilah grinned sheepishly. "Yes Mistress, as a key-holder under green protocol that is the appropriate title of respect. I don't think my mom realized that, so please forgive her for being more casual about your title." Jamie couldn't help but tattle-tale on her mom's lack of protocol even in her struggles. There was something about following rules and playing 'fair' that compelled her to tell even on herself and she did it so instinctively. "Stop your squirming and put each of your hands on each other's boobs. Then say something thoughtful to each of my brothers. Call them each by name. They will get a kick out of that." Delilah ignored Jamie's casual admittance of her mother's wrong doing - She was having fun and could punish them later. The girls were bent over slightly at the waist with their legs apart, while Chris and Bill both held the enema and douche nozzles in place tightly. Their asses were still wiggling involuntarily from the hot-sauce mixed into their enema water sending spasms of pain down their thighs. They clung to each other's tits with their faces pressed cheek to cheek. "Um, Hi Jimmy Sir." Jamie went first, "I hope you are enjoying watching us get ready to go out tonight. I don't know where we are going but it's not up to me." "BORING!" Delilah turned off the camera and started to slap Jamie's face before stopping herself when she saw Jamie didn't flinch away. "Cow Tits, say something cuter to Jimmy." Delilah started recording again as she pointed the camera at Wendy. "Hi uh Jimmy Sir, this is Cow-tits from the backyard, you are probably wondering why we are wiggling so funny. That is because we have hot-water enemas and they are really uncomfortable." Wendy pleaded "But I hope you and your brothers are laughing." "Good job Cow-tits" Delilah patted her head like a puppy and laughed while inserting her own face into the camera frame before turning it back to Jamie who was in the process of grimacing from a cramp caused by the enema. "Hi Gordon Sir, this is Ass Face, Jamie Taylor. I just wanted to thank you for fucking my ass so hard tonight. I showed my father and brother the cum you left inside of me, and um I am not sure what else to say." Jamie seemed unsure of herself. She suddenly heard a groan of pain come from her mom and looked quickly in her direction before catching herself and focusing back on Delilah and the cellphone. Chris smacked her ass hard "Say cheese!" he started to yank the enema out but Delila stopped him. Delilah quickly added, "You want to leave it in for a few minutes to get maximum benefit. Let's finish the videos for my brothers and then we'll let them get in the shower and start washing their hair and upper bodies. You just make sure that the nozzles don't come out until it's time. "Cheese!" Jamie said with a forced smile that anyone could see had pain behind it. Suddenly an overwhelming cramp hit Jamie and she fell to her knees holding her stomach as the enema had its hideous effect. She let slip out "Oh God" as the cramp reached its peak and her body shook with the pain and the need to void herself of the vile liquid inside her. Suddenly there was a loud scream of pain from Wendy as she suffered an intense intestinal cramp as well. She didn't fall to her knees like Jamie had but it was obvious her screams were of agony. Bill and Chris looked at each other and then to Delilah who was just standing there smiling as she admired her handiworks effects on the two poor women. Finally Chris made a sound like he was clearing his throat, "Uhhhhh, shouldn't we remove the nozzles and let them shit now?" Delilah smiled sweetly at Chris, "No but they can get in the shower and shampoo their hair and was themselves from the waist up. I'll tell you when to have them take the nozzle out of their ass." Jamie looked over at her father who's mouth was open in disbelieve at the site he had just seen. Jamie's squirming and groaning could almost have been mistaken for a Jamigasm if it hadn't been for the intense look of pain on her face. When she saw Bill nod his head to what Delilah had just said to do, she struggled up into position, still holding her left hand on her stomach. She moved in the direction of the shower and noticed that her mom wasn't moving. She turned and took the step towards her mom to enable her to grab her hand. She gently pulled her mom up as she said, "Come on mom." Jamie had to half pull her mom into the tub. Wendy was still focused on the seemingly neverending cramps in her gut. Jamie turned the water on and helped maneuver her mom under the water. She got her mom's hair wet and then started washing it. It took her a few minutes to wash her mother's hair because she had to stop from the intense stomach cramps several times. It seemed though that Wendy was having a worse time of it though as she never seemed to get a break from the ever increasing pain the cramps were causing. If she hadn't been in the shower, you could have seen the tears streaming down her cheeks from the pain she was enduring. Finally Jamie finished working the shampoo into her mom's hair and then rinsing it out. She immediately began to wash the rest of her mom's upper body. They had done this enough that it didn't take long until her mom was clean from the waist up, including her fake tits. When she had turned her mother around to make sure the soap was all washed off, she experienced another spasm in her gut that doubled her over. It didn't last long though and she quickly stood up and ducked her hair under the water. She quickly got the shampoo and poured a good amount into the palm of her hand. She stepped back from the water and rubbed her hands together and then began to work the shampoo into her hair. She had just worked up a lather into about half her hair when she had another very bad cramp like she had earlier. She fell to her hands and knees and actually screamed out her agony from the stomach cramp the enema was causing. When Jamie's intestinal cramp began to ease, she realized that her hair was being lathered by someone. She just concentrated on getting through the painful cramp in her gut as whoever it was finished her hair and washed the rest of her from the waist up. She was too unfocused to realize that Wendy had finally been able to get up and help her. She didn't know how long it had been but finally the pain eased enough for her to stand up. When she did she turned in the water to wash the soap off of her body, still suffering small aftershocks of cramping. She felt as if another big one would come any second so she tried to hurry. If the mother and daughter had been aware they would have heard Delilah finally telling Bill and Chris that it was time to let them expel the enemas. Bill immediately looked into the shower and had to call Jamie's name twice before she finally responded after the third time because of her concentration on ignoring the severe pain she was experiencing. The fact she had only had to very large cramps that dropped her to her knees wasn't because she wasn't having painful cramps, it was just because she was concentrating so hard on ignoring them to complete her tasks that the pain had kind of faded into the background. Finally she heard her name the third time and it registered so she turned to look at Bill, "Pull your mother's nozzle out of her ass and let her relieve herself. Be sure you clean the nozzle with your mouth when you do. As Wendy began to groan in relief as the pressure forced her to completely clean out her backside, Delilah held her camera phone just inside the door of the shower and ordered, "Say hi to Gordon Wendy". Wendy was about to say something to Gordon for Delilah's phone video when Chris put Jamie's enema nozzle into his mother's mouth. She hadn't even noticed that Chris had reached into the shower and yanked out her daughter's nozzle. She glanced at Jamie who at that moment was also putting the nozzle to her enema in her mouth and sucking it clean. She sighed in relief from the enema being evacuated even though she had the nasty tasting nozzle in her mouth which she automatically began sucking on like a small cock as soon as it was put into her mouth. "Wow, the old switcheroo." Delilah observed as Chris led his mother over to the downpour of water coming from the showerhead after her enema had been expelled. "Yeah, you know how it's not as bad to smell your own farts? I figure it's better if they have to clean each other's nasty nozzles." "Absolutely heinous!" there was a happy zeal about the way Delilah said that which reminded them all of her Aunt. Her Aunt had a habit of sounding disgusted but remaining fascinated and Delilah took it one step further by simply seeming fully in approval. "Tell Zeke why you have to clean off your mother's enema nozzle after it's been up her stinky keister for five minutes, Ass Face?" "Well Zeke, because I am a three hole slut and so is my mother and when someone puts something up our asses, it's only fair that they use our mouths to clean it instead of dirtying a rag or paper towel. It's just my tongue and I..." Jamie sounded too positive and cheerful for Delilah's taste so she stuck the enema in her mouth before she could give one of her detailed affirmation answers. "Whats next?" Delilah asked "Well, we usually have them shower and shave but they shaved already this morning and we are running behind." Chris offered. "Step in ladies, it will all wash down the drain in the end." Delilah indicated the filthy bottom of the bathtub with a fine layer of brown butt-water in it. The girls stepped into the shower and washed each other by hand as they did every morning. They still had the douche nozzles in their mouth as they showered their aching bodies. "Oh that is cute" Delilah didn't video tape the rest because she knew her brothers would be fascinated with only the gross-out aspects of the getting ready. When the girls stepped out they were given towels to dry. which was a rarity, and told to be thankful that it was only since they were in a hurry. They were told to put on more makeup than normal. The guys had purchased the most trailer park blue eye-shadow and cheap drug-store cherry lipstick for them when this began. Delilah was amused at how cheap it was. "Actually, that lipstick though is supposed to be all day lipstick" Wendy corrected instinctively "So I can give blowjobs and it not um, you know rub off as much and smear." "Very practical" Delilah sounded condescending as she giggled at Wendy's defense of the whorish makeup that clearly wasn't her shade. "Make sure you put on a lot, how about body make up?" Chris was the first to ask what she meant and Delilah demonstrated by patting some base powder on Jamie's naked and dry body and then using a brush to dust over it. "You can not only cover up some of these bruises and whip marks, but you can accentuate the size of her smaller boobs by applying some concealer of different shades to give the impression of depth." Delilah artistically began to paint Jamie's chest while she dried her hair and applied her face make up. "That's really cool. Can you draw me on some abs like in 300?" Chris joked. He had to explain that in the movie they had made it seem like everyone who lived in Sparta had a perfect six-pack abdomen using makeup. "That is sort of the idea, if you like I can make her nipples a much redder color" Delilah pinched and twisted Jamie's nipples with her thumb. "Make her butthole, pussy lips and nipples all match the same color as her mother?" Bill requested trying to sound like the wise patriarch. He was no longer self-conscious about standing in the bathroom with his pants off in front of her. That was in part because his son was naked from the waist down too. "Oh, sure!" Delilah used an eyeliner tool to apply a thin dark ring around Jamie's pussy lips and asshole before coloring it in with a pink blush powder. "This will make it stand out and really pop" then she asked Bill and Chris to rub some body-glitter oil over the two of them. Delilah pinched and tugged their puffy nipples and clits in order to get them to stand out more (and just demonstrate she had a fiendishly sadistic side). When they were finally done the two girls looked like perfect naked sluts and there wasn't a mark or blemish on their bodies. "This is great, what should they wear?" Bill asked Delilah instinctively. "Well not too much, you don't want all the glitter to come off before you get there." Wendy and Jamie still didn't know where "there" was, and they had been poked, prodded and talked about as if they were simply a prop that they didn't feel they had the authority to even ask - the curiosity was killing them though. "Actually, I think I have an overcoat cow-tits could wear, Chris do you have something?" Bill asked his son. "A football jersey?" "That will probably be cold in the night air on the way out there." Bill said sounding concerned. "And?" Chris laughed as if he could care less. "Good point." Bill smirked and slapped Wendy on the ass. "Let's get them loaded up and can we drop you back off at your house?" Delilah answered "Why thank you, you are ever so thoughtful Mr. Taylor." In the southern genteel accent she had used when she first arrived. Bill threw an old overcoat at his wife and tossed her some high heels which she quickly put on. "You had better thank Delilah for all the effort she put in tonight." "Yes Sir, thank you Mistress for cleaning us up, and painting us pretty and making our holes match. I am glad my daughter gave you and your brothers some amusement this afternoon." Wendy got down on her knees as she delivered the line wearing only the high heels. "Oh think nothing of it. You two are so sexy when you grovel though. I hope you are looking forward to a visit some time at our place?" Delilah's sadistic tone was completely invisible to the guys but Wendy read the subtext completely. "Oh Yes Mistress, I am sure that my owners will want me to visit soon." Wendy wasn't looking forward to it in the least but only Delilah and Jamie could pick up on the context of what she really meant by her tone. Jamie got down on her knees next "Mistress, you've really outdone yourself and I suspect that I too will be visiting your house before my training is over." "Oh dear" Delilah took her chin in hand once again "You know you can come back over for an attitude adjustment even if your training is over. I am sure we can work out a trade" she winked at Chris and then the girls stood to dress at the door. Wendy's overcoat came down to her ankles and reminded her of something a flasher would wear to the park. Jamie was even worse because it was simply an oversized Cherry Lawn Trojan's scrimmage jersey and not only did it barely cover her ass, it had been designed to go over pads and had breathing-holes in the mesh of the material. Jamie was carrying a small leather bag with "Stuff" that they may need as they were loaded into the back of Bill's truck. "You can sit up front with us" Chris offered sweetly to Delilah. "Don't Taylor men cum first?" Delilah joked as she stepped into the back of the truck with the girls. "You know it" Chris smiled back at her after she repeated the familiar family motto they had been drilling into the women's head. "Well then I'll just stay back here with them until we get to my house. I wouldn't want to overstep my ego or else you may have to give me a paddling." "That would be bad – why?" Chris chuckled flirtatiously. Bill finally nudged his boy inside "Okay you two love-birds, we've got to get rolling" and with that they pulled out of the parking lot. Delilah ordered the girls to get on all fours as she squatted next to them. "That sure is fun isn't it?" Delilah said without a trace of her southern accent once the truck was in motion and it was just the three girls. "Fun Mistress?" Jamie sounded confused. "Oh you can stop the formalities for now." Delilah explained. "Don't bullshit a bullshitter, I see why you two agreed to be treated like little rag-dolls for the guys. It is exciting – you never know what will happen next. You like being dominated." Wendy turned to her "Sometimes it can be exciting but trust me; I would lick your asshole for an hour for a cup of coffee and a hot bath by myself." Not thinking twice about how vulgar and forward it sounded. Delilah just laughed "You two are alright. You are tough bitches and I am impressed, I want to play with you again and I won't tell my aunt about your white alert - That will stay between us." Delilah sounded like she was being genuinely comforting and not manipulative. "Well thank you, mistress or um, Delilah" Jamie answered politely. There was a quiet pause while Bill drove through the neighborhood. It was dark outside and there was no danger of them being spotted but the cool night air ran down Jamie's back and gave her chills. "Do you really like my son?" Wendy got up the courage to ask. "What do you think?" Delilah answered coyly. "I don't know what to think. He has never had a girl take an interest in him." Wendy caught herself before saying mistress too. It seemed so instinctive to punctuate her speech with that she started to feel weird not saying it. "I like your son, Mrs. Taylor" Delilah smiled as the truck came to a hault. "This is my stop" she patted their asses and added "Don't do anything I wouldn't do" as she hopped off the back to run inside her house. The truck was in motion again and now Jamie and her mother were free to have one of their long talks but they spent a long time just staring into each other's eyes. The shared pain and humiliation had brought them closer in ways they were just starting to comprehend and they both felt they were sharing a moment with just their silence. When they finally did talk again the truck was on its way out to the raunchier side of town. "I think we are almost to MLK Blvd" Jamie was looking up curiously and noticing familiar landmarks. "Oh dear!" Wendy suspected what Bill wanted them to do but instantly regretted chirping that out because it only alarmed her daughter. The speculation about what would happen was making things even more difficult for the two. Jamie looked at her mother expectantly to infer 'go ahead and spit it out'. "Well, I guess you should know that one night early on when Chris first started pimping you out to your friends Bill pimped me out here." Wendy knew that Jamie was still waiting for more of an explanation but paused as if to give herself the illusion that she had said enough to explain. "I did not know how far things were supposed to go and things sort of got out of hand. I ended up working the streets." Wendy's tone was both apologetic and embarrassed. "Mom, it's me!" Jamie smiled at her mom reassuringly "We worked the flea market today trying to sell our ass?" reminding her mom that they were in this together. "Yes, I know but I think your Dad wants money so badly, he might be taking us to the motel to work there." "So? It can't be any worse than we did all day?" Jamie was being positive and upbeat. "You have a good point" Wendy conceded adding something she remembered being told that night "You could walk naked in panties and a bra only down the sidewalk. This is Martin Luther King blvd. In every city there is a MLK blvd, and it is known for three things. Where you go to buy crack, where you go to buy ribs, where you go to buy ass." "We didn't exactly stick out at the flea market, there were lots of sluts there" Jamie smiled again reassuring her mother that they would get through this together as a team. Jamie wasn't sure if they were going to have to whore again but she was not afraid. "Yeah, I suppose we will fit right in here too" the tones they used would have gone right over Bill and Chris's heads but Jamie knew wrapped up in the subtext of that statement was a whole ball of fears. "Mom, we have gone this far, whatever we have to do, as long as we work together as partners in crime, you know I've got your back and I know you have mine." Wendy leaned in to kiss her daughter and for once it was just a gentle close-mouthed kiss of affection. Wendy and Jamie both were quietly wincing that their incestuous kisses had made the act of a sweet kiss now feel a little sexual. Jamie changed the subject before the two of them started to gush "What did you think of Delilah?" "She is a horrid meanie-butt even worse than your friend Cathy Griffin." Wendy wasted no time in offering her true opinion. "I mean do you think she is going to break Chris's heart?" Jamie already knew Delilah was twisted and cruel. "Don't we all at some point?" Wendy offered a vague comment when the truck came to a stop and the doors cracked open. The girls looked up at the lights overhead 'Ample Parking in the Rear' and like it or not their conversation was cut short with Bill's direction to 'Get their fat asses out and report for duty'. "Yes Sir" Jamie acknowledged while her mother added "Coming Sir". The two would have to compare notes later about what that had meant. They were in a parking lot behind a bar. There were several neon signs out front but in the back it was hard to make out. It looked like a run-down bar with loud music coming from inside. "Okay Ladies, and I use that term loosely" Chris chortled "Follow our lead and don't embarrass us. You have a chance to earn some stars tonight and some cash for the house." They led the girls around to the front of the building and it became obvious it was a smoky old strip club. "The Crab Shack?" Jamie asked incredulously. The sign that was bigger than all others read "Crab Shack" in bright lights. "Yeah, we get that a lot" A heavy-set biker in leathers emerged from the darkness of the door-way holding a large wad of folded ones. "This is Soft-tails. The Crab shack is a restaurant in the same plaza." He obviously knew the connotation. "We are here for the amateur contest" Bill explained getting right to business. The bald bouncer looked the girls up and down and then asked "Does this one have ID?" as he looked at Jamie wearing only heels and a football jersey. Bill silently cursed his luck that they would card them. Chris jokingly replied "You know I think it was in her pants and she was in such a rush to get down here, she plum forgot them." The Bouncer chuckled slightly and added "Yeah, we get that a lot". There was a pregnant pause before he added "She can be in the amateur contest, but if she wants to work here you'll have to show me an ID that says she is at least 18" Bill nodded "Sure, thanks!" but did his best to remain non-chalant. "Where is the dressing room?" "It's a ten dollar cover for you both, and let me guess you forgot your ID in your other pants too, Slim?" the serious Biker looked down his nose at Chris. "I will gladly provide it if my sister starts dancing here" Chris smiled like a child who had been caught red-handed. "This one is your sister? And let me guess this other one is your step-mom?" the Bouncer asked. "She is blood related, but she is my mom. How did you know that?" Chris asked as he handed him a twenty dollar bill they had earned earlier. "Yeah, we get that a lot" was all he said. "Well the economy is tough these days, and people gotta do what they can." Chris offered as explanation. The Biker didn't acknowledge the explanation. He offered a curt explanation of the rules "You can touch, no blowjobs, no penetration – you or the customer." He said adding "Dances are 20, the house takes five per dance, and you dance three song sets." "We are just here for your amateur contest" Bill added noting the five hundred dollar prize. "That is the amateur contest." The Bouncer added grimly. "How do we earn the five hundred dollar prize?" Bill asked. "By doing five hundred dollars worth of dances. If these two aren't drunk, drugged up, or fucked up and can get along with the customers they can come back and have a job here." "Oh we will make sure they are good girls, I just thought your ad said was like a wet t-shirt contest" The Biker extended his tree-trunk like arm into the smoky bar of bikers, drunks and titty dancers and said "Do these people look like they are here for a Wet T-shirt contest?" Bill could barely see inside the room but everyone seemed to be nursing beers and quietly ogling the girls dancing on stage. "Let me talk to my partner here" Bill brought Chris over to the side of the lobby. The Biker added as the two walked away "Yeah, we get THAT all the time, but no refunds on the cover charge." Wendy and Jamie were left smiling at the front door next to the Biker as Bill and Chris weighed their options. "You told me this was like an amateur contest" Bill whispered impatiently to his son. "I thought it was. I don't hang out at strip clubs, how would I know?" Chris offered as explanation. "This place is a real shit-hole. I thought they could get on stage and shake it around and maybe walk away with the top prize or at least second prize. We are going to have to be here all night." "You have some place you'd rather be, Dad?" Chris asked "You need to be home and get ready for school in the morning. Your sister is probably going to be kicked out of school and you need to let me know if I need to come get her." Bill warned his son. "Oh yeah, well what would you rather do?" "Come here sluts, we need to get home." Bill turned back around to the biker but Wendy and Jamie were gone. "Dressing room" the bouncer explained seeing their confused faces. "And no you can't go in" "Because you get that all the time?" Chris joked. The Biker looked at him with a flat expression and then just nodded his head slowly "Have a seat, here is a drink card, first one is on me." Bill had to admit he couldn't pass up a beer. "You can have a beer with your old man, while we can an eye on our bitches then." The two saddled up to the bar and a good looking bartender got them both a budweiser. "You look a little like Sarah Silverman" Chris offered to the bartender. "Who?" she asked with a look like if she could hear him, she really didn't care what he said. "Sarah Silverman the comedian" Chris clarified. The Bartender turned and walked away without a comment. "Son, we gotta work on your game." Bill chuckled. Chris took a sip of his beer and slapped his dad on the knee while they sat on the barstool "Oh and you have game?" "I got your mother to do all this didn't I?" Bill made a gesture to indicate the entire bar. "Work at a titty bar?" Chris had a little of the head from his beer on his upper lip. "Wipe your lip, Son" Bill said seriously before adding "I meant be our slave and serve and all that" whispering. "You think anyone here would be shocked that mom and Jamie are our slaves?" Chris said out loud over the Whitesnake playing in the background. The bar was filled with seedy characters and slutty dancers. Bill had to admit his son had a point. The girls came walking out in the extra small lycra bikinis that had been packed in their 'stuff bag' and made a bee-line over to Bill and Chris. "Don't come to us, we ain't got no money" Bill was half serious and then added "It seems like you two decided you are working here without consulting us anyway." "We need money, sir" Wendy said simply and Bill conceded the fact. "That doesn't mean you can start making your own decisions. You didn't even let us pick out your outfits." Chris added with a hint of sarcasm. "Would you like us to change, Sir?" Jamie asked her brother. "Yes, switch with each other right here." Chris was half joking but the girls didn't hesitate to strip and switch. Other than a few of the long-time dancers no one even seemed to take notice. This was a nude bar and in this setting it seemed perfectly normal. "You know what? Change back." Chris said with a goofy expression. His father slapped him on the shoulder to indicate to stop wasting time and the girls giggled a little. One of the long term dancers sauntered over in heels and a much less revealing outfit (by comparison). She had a jealous look on her face and a 'cut-the-shit' attitude. "My name is Easy Money" she announced. "Pleasure, I am Bill." Easy was smacking her gum impatiently as she looked at Bill and sized him up. He was obviously one of the dancer's boyfriend or husband and was most likely not going to buy any dances so she ignored him. "The DJ wants to know what your dancing names are so you can get on the list." Wendy and Jamie looked at Bill. "Can you put Cow-tits and Ass-face?" Bill said half-kidding. "Cowtits and Ass-face, how cute." Easy Money's apathetic expression didn't change as she turned to go relay the names to the DJ. "Sir?" Wendy couldn't believe Bill had just done that. "How did I know she was going to take me seriously." They watched the girl point to where they were sitting and explain to the DJ who seemed to have a good laugh and then he wrote something down. The DJ was skinny and wearing a tux-shirt with no bow tie. He picked up the microphone as the song ended and a voice way too deep to be coming out of his thin frame crackled over the microphone. "Yow-zah, Yow-Zah, we got some new poon for you here at the soft-tails, coming to you corn-fed from the land of milk and honeys, it's and no I am not kidding fellaz, make a girl feel welcome her first time on our stage, Cow-titt-ay!" he drew out the "ayyy" in Wendy's name. "Oh my god" Wendy mouthed silently to Jamie as she reluctantly made her way to the stage like she didn't know what she was going to do. An old classic rock sang was already playing as she walked on stage. (somewhere in a lonely hotel room, There's a guy starting to realize That eternal fate has turned its back on him, It's two a.m... ) It's two a.m., the fear has gone I'm sittin' here waitin', the gun still warm Maybe my connection is tired of takin' chances Yeah there's a storm on the loose, sirens in my head I'm wrapped up in silence, all circuits are dead I cannot decode, my whole life spins into a frenzy Help I'm steppin' into the twilight zone The place is a madhouse, feels like being cloned Wendy took a deep breath and sauntered on to the stage. She felt embarrassed and awkward. She had only been in the club a few minutes and hadn't had a chance to see how things were done. She took her clothes off right away and set them on the side and men started to walk up with dollars in their mouth or folded in their fingers for her to take them. She felt like a seal at the zoo trying to get a fish. Easy money walked up half-way through the set and Wendy walk-danced over to her. "You look like a fucking ostrich up here" Easy Money said with the casual sarcasm of someone who hated her guts instantly making Wendy feel terrible. "It's three song sets, you can flash during the first one, show your tits on the second and go nude on the third, haven't you ever danced before?" "No, actually I haven't Ma'am" Wendy answered apologetically trying to keep time with the Golden Earing song that she remembered from her high school days but for the life of her had forgotten its name. "Don't get catty with me, it's Easy." Easy Money had taken offense to being called 'Ma'am'. "Ma'am is what a waitress calls a customer who is a bitch." "Should I put my clothes back on until the third song?" Wendy stopped herself before instinctively adding Ma'am. "I don't give a shit what you do, as long as you don't piss all over the stage or get your fucking ass cream all over the pole." Easy Money gave her a dirty look and walked back to some other girls who were all sitting at the table together. Wendy felt like the song must have lasted for fifteen minutes even if it had lasted only half of that. She was starting to notice that some of the men were peeling the labels off their beer after her initial new-ness had worn off. She had only made about seven dollars in wadded up dollar bills. "Wow-wow-wee-wow, would you give it up for that lady?" The wolf-man jack DJ said as he started up Wendy's second song. There was no applause at all which was quite normal for that place but it still made Wendy feel like she hadn't been doing a good job "Let's treat her right, she is up there naked already with those big old pierced rings, I just wanna stick my dick through fellaz! Cow-tittay!" By the time Wendy got through her third song she had warmed up quite a bit and was dancing a lot like she had in the step-aerobics classes she had been in. There had been one old black man who had tried to stick a dollar up her ass but other than that it had been fairly easy. "Okay now I understand we got another girl here who came with her fellaz, first time on our stage, Oh my god fellaz I know a lotta girlz work here whose mommaz named them Candy or Naughty Nikki and thank god for that - but listen to this, it's Ass-Face!!! Yeah-Buddy on our stage right now in the flesh!" In contrast to her mom's classic rock set Jamie's music was a jarring techno-beat. Smack my bitch up Change my step up Repeating over and over and she strode on stage to take her mother's place. "Now are you two sisters or something?" The DJ pulled the music down for them to say something. "Uh, she is my mom Sir?" Jamie answered nervously over the music. "That's your momma? Good lord almighty! Alrighty! She gave you the name Ass-face when you were a little bitty baby did she?" the DJ joked back trying to make a bit out of it. Wendy indicated where Bill and Chris were sitting. The DJ would pull down the volume of the music for his own part but bring it back up over the girls so almost no one could hear them anyway. "Oh is that poppa?" the DJ looked in the direction Wendy had indicated and the girls shook their head yes. "Dad, is it alright if your daughter dances tonight or you gonna go all Rambo?" Bill was suddenly embarrassed when the DJ was obviously talking to him and shouted "I don't give a fuck" when the DJ had the volume down allowing all the customers to hear and chuckle. "You heard daddy, he don't give a fuck as long as you give his little girl a buck. Yes Sir, what's seven inches long and has a head on it? A crisp twenty dollar bill babyz!" the music went back up. Jamie helped her mother down from the stage and the DJ asked "Now you two are open to doing mother and daughter table dances?" over the microphone. Jamie could only nod her head yes because the music was simply too loud to do anything else. "Alright, that is out of sight, don't forget our VIP lounge, we don't serve champagne in there, because well you know why guys. Hey don't forget your waitresses out there working hard to keep YOU that way!" Jamie had the good fortune of watching her mom dance and seeing how the girls strutted around the bar for three songs. She had practiced her whole life in dance and cheerleading – it was like second nature to pick up the style of dancing in the club. Jamie seemed far more natural on stage than her mother and the guys were already tipping before she flashed. An old man came up and patted her on the butt and whispered something in her ear. She couldn't hear him but it sounded like "Will you dance for me later" and she shook her head yes. The old black man tried to stick a dollar bill up her ass just like he had her mother on Jamie's third song when she was naked but other than that Jamie had no trouble dancing and strutting around to the mostly techno and hip-hop songs they played for her. "I wonder why he played classic rock songs for me and not for Jamie?" Wendy asked Bill as they watched their daughter collect one dollar bills from strangers on stage. "I wonder why you aren't trying to hustle up some dances, Cow-tits?" Bill slapped his wife on the ass playfully and she felt comfortable enough to give him a lemony glance as she walked away. Bill noticed how fine her legs looked stuffed into those 5 inch pumps she was wearing. The way it made her back sway and her ass stick out as she made the rounds to the guys in the bar. It took her about three customers of asking "May I dance for you Sir?" to get a nice old gentlemen take her off to "Perverts Row". A couch on the side of the bar where dancers performed lap dances. Wendy saw the other girls let the guys grab and touch their naked bodies and she rode the old man the way she saw them dance, letting him slide his hand up her thigh and breath down her neck. "You sure I am not crushing you Sir?" "I like it if you call me daddy" the old man breathed heavily over her shoulder. The request creeped Wendy out as it made her think about her own dad but then she realized for Jamie that was reality anyway. "Yes daddy, you like it when I do it like this?" she whispered softly. When Jamie finished her set she went over to her dad to hand him her earnings from the stage. "I don't have any place to put these." "I'd like to put them up your BUTT" a drunk little old black man offered snidely. "That's Herbert, don't pay any attention to him." The bartender explained "He is a regular, he tries to stick dollars up everyone's butt." "I'll stick a dollar up YOUR butt!" the little old man offered angrily at the bartender. "Why don't you go home and stick dollars up your OWN butt, Herbert" the Bartender said with a sort of 'no-nonsense' attitude. "I would but I..." the little old man mumbled to himself but the bartender had already moved on to another customer. "How many dollars would you stick up her butt?" Chris asked playfully. "All of them" the old man pulled out a wad of bills without hesitation. "Go for it then" Chris wasn't kidding and Jamie knew it. She stood by the bar at his stool and turned around so her ass faced him. Then she pulled her thong to the side and felt the old man's finger push a single dollar into her asshole hard and twisted. "It's hard to get these in." he was working on the second one when Easy Money strode over to the bar. "What do you think you are doing, new girl?" Easy money asked with an attitude the size of Montana. "I am letting this customer stick dollars up my asshole, Ma'am?" "Fuck, you talk just like your momma. Don't call me Ma'am" "Yes..." Jamie had to stop herself as she held on to the stool to steady herself. "Herbert is going to want to do this to all the girls now if you let him do this on you." Easy Money complained. Herbert offered in a casual way like a happy drunk "No, I don't wanna stick dollars up your tight ass, when I got this white girl shitting green." "Whatever!" Easy Money walked off with a quickness. "I can't get no more in" Herbert was genuinely enjoying himself having only poked about four dollars into Jamie's asshole. Chris could see that Easy Money was talking to the Bouncer about what they were doing and unless he was terrible at lip-reading he thought he saw the bouncer answer her complaint with "Yeah, we get that a lot here". "Hey Sis, you better knock it off" Chris made it sound like Jamie had been the one to instigate the entire thing. "Yes Sir, thank you so much for the tips" Jamie turned to Herbert and gave him a hug. He smelled like warmed over poop and old man smell. "Can I take these out?" "Why would you? And I know the girls don't want you calling them Ma'am, but you'll call all the males in here Sir, you got it?" Chris chided his sister. "Yes Sir, I am sorry." Jamie turned to see the bartender looking at her with what appeared to be pity in her eyes. "It's okay, they talk to me like that all the time" she explained. "Do I look like I give a shit how they talk to you?" the bartender was already ignoring her and moving on to a paying customer before she could answer. The girls eventually danced together privately and even kissed on stage when the DJ put them on the spot but none of this seemed to overly surprise the customers. Bill and Chris made sure they didn't go to the bathroom without permission and stayed out on the floor to make money but they had made less than 120 dollars and it was already getting close to 11pm. "I am Harley" a woman about the same age and build as Wendy introduced herself. "Nice to meet you, I am Cow-tits" "Good god, that is a terrible stage name." Harley laughed. There were no customers around and Jamie was dancing for someone else so Wendy felt she could speak casually to a fellow dancer. "You think?" Wendy laughed. "We had one girl who called herself snapper. I think she meant that she liked to snap her fingers, but the DJ always made it sound like pussy." Harley explained with a laugh while she lit up a smoke and offered one to Wendy. "No thank you, my husband would never allow me to smoke. I'd definitely love one though" "Oh, you got a controlling old man too, huh?" Harley laughed. "If you only knew" Wendy joked. "Well, I could tell there is some ink on your ass, but you are wearing concealer and covering it up. I used to be owned by the Iron Horseman before I met Jack." "Owned?" Wendy asked. "Yeah, you know a pass around girl?" Wendy was curious and Harley explained that when she was 'young, dumb and full of cum' she had a rebellious streak and couldn't wait to get out of the Podunk town she grew up in. She fell in with a motorcycle club and became 'club property' to whoever wanted her. 'It's not like they bought me, but you know how if you feed a kitty every day? It don't have no fence or leash on but it ain't going anywhere?" Harley took a puff from her smoke and Wendy nodded. "Then I met Jack and became his old lady" she indicated one of the bikers playing pool who had never tipped her. A girl in her early twenties came up and gave a quick kiss to Harley and she introduced herself as "Marlboro" "This is my niece, she lives with us." Harley explained. "Oh? That is my daughter over there" Wendy pointed out Jamie. "Yeah, I heard, but c'mon? Are you just telling guys that so they will buy dances from you two?" Harley seemed skeptical. "No, we are really are mother and daughter." Wendy said sincerely. "Well, we really are too but I have enough decency to pretend she is just my niece" Harley didn't say another word as she left with her daughter. They sauntered over to Jack and they both flirted with him while he took a puff from his smoke and put his arm around them both. Wendy only shook her head in confusion. Bill was going to walk over and separate Wendy anyway since he wanted to work the customers and not 'make friends'. "Lookey, Lookey, It's Buford-Boofey! Walking in the door! How are you my man!" the DJ said over the microphone to introduce a favorite customer who walked in without paying a customer. It was the smiling bearded owner of the Metro Adult Megastore they had visited a few days earlier. He was instantly surrounded by dancers who seemed to want his attention. He was perpetually happy and child-like and dressed like a Hippy who just came from a Grateful Dead concert. He made his way to the bar as he greeted each person by name. "What will you have baby?" the Bartender brightened up and gave Buford her full attention. He ordered schnapps and then noticed Bill and Chris. "Well Bill and Chris Taylor, how are you? I am so glad to see you both" the man had an incredible memory about details and smiled as he did air guitar in time with a Van Halen song that seemed to come on just for him. "Wow, you were always playing air guitar before and I never knew what song you were listening to in your head, but they actually play it here?" "Yeah, I am always here in my head, man! I love it!" Buford had a wad of cash and began to pass out a few singles to the girls as he slid up next to the two of them. "I've got too much time on my hands and it's ticking away, ticking away" he quoted an old styx song and as if by cue the DJ stopped the song that was playing and started that very song. "Wow, you are the man here!" Chris was impressed. "What? No" Buford was being modest or just his trusting child-like manner made him believe it was serendipity they played the song he wanted to hear when he wanted to hear it. "Where is your darling daughter and wife, still in their Pussy Prison?" Buford described in detail the ultra-deluxe chastity belt they had purchased at the store a few nights earlier "Made of 24ga. stainless steel, and covered with a clear vinyl in the front, and black vinyl backing. Its ultra slim design makes it impossible to be detected through the clothing. Has a 5" slot which expands from the clitoris, to the end of the vagina, to allow for urination. However the shield will not allow penetration from the rear, or front. Has a removable rear shield that locks into place. The rear shield can be removed without removing the main belt." "Yeah, we had to let them out so they could make some money" "Oh they are here dancing?" Buford's eyes lit up. "Will they dance for me, for a Hundie?" he held up a hundred dollar bill like a child holds up his favorite toy of all time to impress someone. "They sure will dance for you." Bill assured him in the VIP Room if that's what you want. "No, I have my own VIP room." He walked up to the DJ booth and seemed to say only a word or two to the DJ. "And that was Sunshine, everybody how about a round of applause for Sunshine?" the DJ faded the girls music down in the middle of her song. "That was my second song though" the black girl stood on stage with her hands on her hip and then she saw the DJ mouth something and nodded her head and got off the stage. "Ladies and Gentlemen, it's a special VIP dance for Soft Tail's favorite customer, and don't bitch, because no one gives a shit." The customers who had been sitting at the stage all got up as if by queue and moved to seats further away. Buford took a seat right at the stage and rested his hands on his chin dreamily. "The mother and daughter team, virgins of Soft-Tails but something tells me they are not virgins of life, let's hear it for Cow-tits and Ass-face!" "Oh my God, they are going by Cow-Tits and Ass Face!!" Buford put his hands up in the air like he just won a prize when he heard them called to the stage together. The familiar rock beats of Rush Tom Sawyer began playing over the loud speakers. A modern day warrior Mean, mean stride Today's Tom Sawyer Mean, mean pride Though his mind is not for rent Don't put him down as arrogant His reserve, a quiet defense Riding out the day's events The river What you say about his company Is what you say about society Catch the mist, catch the myth Catch the mystery, catch the drift Buford began air-riffing to the song as the girls made their way to the stage. Wendy was the first on stage and she said "Hello Sir, it's good to see you again" as she bent down to say hello. "It's good to see YOU again." Buford fawned over her like a puppy. Jamie joined her mom on stage "Are we doing just a one song set?" she had picked up the dancing terminology and began to move in time with the rockbeat. "You do whatever you want to do!" Buford gleefully explained holding up two one hundred dollar bills for them. Wendy and Jamie looked at each other and pulled down their swimsuits. They had been dancers for only three hours but they knew what was implied. The DJ, the Bartender, the bouncer, even the customers and other dancers all seemed to ignore the stage. This was Buford's idea of a VIP dance and apparently everyone here respected him. "You know the difference between eccentric and crazy?" he asked the girls. Wendy answered "How much money you have?" Buford's eyes got wide as he asked excitedly "How did you know that?" and with a broad smile he tossed five dollar bills on the stage. "Can you." Buford stopped himself like he was trying to hold back telling a secret "Would you?" he asked excitedly almost ready to pee himself. The girls hadn't forgotten that he always seemed to be an 11 on a scale of 1-10 about everything. "Can we make out on stage?" Wendy asked him while squatting in front of him. "YES!?" Buford seemed relieved Wendy asked him. The girls circled each other as they danced seductively. Wendy had picked up the dance style of the bar after her first set on stage and the two of them seemed like perfect naturals. They moved close and stroked each other seductively. "YES!!!" Buford was rocking out to the Rush song while licking his lips and encouraging the girls. Two minutes into the song and they were laying on the stage kissing and making out. The customers and dancers who had initially seemed intentionally uninterested became very interested. Bill wasn't sure if the sense of pride that was swelling up in his chest was from the fact that every man in that bar right now wanted his wife and daughter's sexy ass and they belonged to him. "Where is your tattoos? What happened to your tattoos?" Buford was watching every detail and fold in their sexy bodies as the two played with each other with the practiced routine they had done morning after morning for Bill and Chris. Wendy gave him a naughty look and turned her daughter's ass towards him. She licked her finger and then removed a little of the makeup to reveal the tattoo. "Take it all off!" Even Easy Money the unflappable dancer seemed impressed by this point. The DJ ensured the song lasted as long as Buford wanted by fading it down and quickly rewinding it while he talked about "Cow-tits" and "Ass-face". Wendy and Jamie pretended to lick each other's asses while using their fingers to remove the makeup covering their tattoos. "What does the tattoo say?" the DJ asked over the microphone clearly getting into the mystery "Now THAT is a strip tease before. We've never had any strip off their own skin before..." Buford egged them on and eventually it became obvious the tattoos said "WHORE". "Well god-damn, why would you want to cover those up? Let me have a bite out of that O ladies! And I'll show you my OH face ... Oh, Oh!" the DJ joked. When the girls finished the dance Buford handed them each a hundred dollar bill like he was giving them the most precious thing on earth. They also collected a dozen fives and twenties he had thrown on the stage. Wendy leaned down and gave Buford a kiss on the forehead which sent him into a spasm of happiness and then the two of them exited the stage into the dressing room – drunk on the stardom of their latest performance and that they made more money in one song than they had all night. Unfortunately for them they walked into the sobering lights of the dressing room and they were surrounded by all the dancers. "Hey Chica, you think you can come in here and take my best customer" a fiery Puerto Rican girl demanded with her arms folded. Easy Money, Harley, Marlboro and four other girls all echoed the same concern. "I didn't know he was your customer, I am so sorry!" Wendy said. "Never danced before? Not a biker chick? With a tat like that?" Harley was shaking her head in disbelief. "Yeah, I never seen a girl who never danced before, dance it like you did" Marlboro invaded Jamie's space and got very close. Jamie wasn't sure if the smell of vodka on her breath or her use of double negative was more offensive and she didn't have time to decide before they got jumped by the girls. Hair-pulling, tit grabbing, ass pulling, biting and smacking the titty bar girls were not fucking around. They descended upon Jamie and Wendy and quite literally 'beat their asses' by the truest definition of the word. "You let Herbert shove dollars up your ass, how do you like this beer bottle shoved up your ass?" Jamie tried to fight back but there were four girls for each of them and the rough dancer girls with attitudes mopped the floor with the dancers rubbing their faces literally in the dirty carpet from the locker room. When it was all over Jamie and Wendy lay naked in the cold alley behind the bar under the "Ample Parking in Rear" sign next to a dumpster that smelled like sour beer and piss. They were naked, beaten and covered in sand that stuck to their bodies from all the glitter they had on. "Are you okay?" Wendy asked. "Yeah actually" Jamie sounded actually chipper. "Why are you so happy?" "I am not happy, but I guess if I hadn't gotten my ass beaten every day for the last two weeks I probably would be in tears. I can literally say this really wasn't the worst thing that has happened to me all day." "Girl, you have the heel of someone's high heel sticking out of your ass and you are lying face down naked in an alley!" Wendy said with a hint of humor. "It's not all the way in" Jamie reached behind her as she dusted herself off to pull it out. "I don't think this is one of ours." She sniffed it and then quickly wondered why she had done that. Bill and Chris came running around the side of the building "Are you alright Wendy?" Bill shouted. "It's Cow-tits Sir, and yes I think I will live" Wendy said with a hint of humor while picking herself up off the ground. "What happened?" Chris was stunned "We waited for you to come back out, and Buford left right after you danced for him. We asked what happened when you didn't come back out and the bouncers just did one of those "Yeah, we get this all the time." Things. "I would have kicked his ass" Bill sounded serious "If he wouldn't tell us where you were!" "No offense, but somehow I think you'd be laying down here next to us if you had tried that, Sir" Wendy got to her feet and cradled her ribs slightly. Bill started to take offense but he had to admit she was right "Well he IS built like a brick shit-house. I take it you lost the money?" "Yes Sir, I am sorry. I know you will probably punish us, but can we go home first?" Wendy seemed apologetic but made no effort to hide her nudity even though she was now standing in the dark rear parking lot of the titty bar completely naked. "Nah, you girls did good tonight. You tried your best, and we made a little money." Bill had sixty dollars in his hand. "I thought it was a lot more." "That Bouncer is a fucking prick" Bill didn't have to say it because it was obvious that their bar-tab plus the house fees had eaten up most of what they made. "Yeah, he gets that all the time, Dad." Chris smiled and Wendy, Jamie and Bill found that about the funniest thing they had heard all night because they all shared a mutual laugh. ------- 14 Kids these days care more about losing their cell phone than they do losing their virginity Jamie's Journal "Kids these days care more about losing their cell phone than they do losing their virginity" STAR COUNT: WENDY: 51 Get out of jail cards: 1 WHORE: 5,3,0,0,1 JAMIE: 59 Get out of jail cards: 1 WHORE: 4,3,0,0,0 *Note to reader: This is Jamie''s journal from Monday Morning detailing the events after their first (and only) night working at Soft-tails as dancers. In order to increase readability, some of the dialogue exchanged was altered to appear in a 'narrative' story format. Last night after my mother and I got our asses beat in the parking lot of a strip club – Yes journal, I would never have believed I'd have a journal entry that starts out that way but it is what it is. We danced our asses off and I have to admit I was actually comfortable working there. There were times when I stepped in something squishy on the carpet and had to wonder if it was lotion from another dancer or cum, and it smelled like an ashtray in there but I was glad for the experience. I wasn't so happy with getting beaten up by raging jealous dancers. We were allowed to ride in the cab on the way home – I had to ride in Chris's lap but it beat being on all fours, with the wind whipping down our naked backs. Dad and Chris felt sorry for us. They didn't punish us, but they also awarded us no stars for the work we did. I don't think I've made any progress since Sunday afternoon. That has really been the least of my concerns. You see I am writing this journal outside ofthe Principal's office getting ready to go inside to discuss my 'behavior' at the half-time of the game on Friday. Honestly, it feels like weeks have passed since then and so much has happened. I've been particularly concerned about this because the agreement with my father is that if I get kicked out of school I spend every day outside in the backyard chained up with Rosco our dog. A fact my brother wasted no time in reminding me of this morning by waking me up by barking in my face. "RUFF RUFF RUFF! RISE AND SMELL THE PUSSY, ASS FACE" he barked in my face to scare me awake. He often tries to sneak up on us when we are asleep and I usually know he is coming and pretend to sleep but today I was so exhausted that he definitely got me. They had tied mom and I together face to face in the living room last night before going to bed, but the two of them were either so tired or felt so bad about our beating that they didn't add any extra nasty surprises like a dildo up our asses or tight ropes around our waists. I don't want to sound like I was disappointed that they didn't. I just want to be clear that last night they kind of gave us a little bit of a breather – which they more than made up for this morning. "Dad and I want you to get a taste of doggy-time so you know what happens if you get kicked out of school. He doesn't want you to think it's going to be easy." "I didn't think it would be easy, Sir!" I pleaded as he hovered over me with his finger in my face. He can be very intimidating in the morning when he catches me by surprise. "First thing is, don't talk unless you are giving permission to free-talk. One bark for Yes, and no barks for no, is that understood bitch?" "Ruff" I barked and even mom laughed at how silly it sounded. "What are you a poodle? That was pathetic, try it again" "RUFF!" I barked with a little more umph and my brother said, "You'll have plenty of chance to practice," before telling my mom "and don't you laugh. We can't have you two on different schedules in the morning so you'll follow the same rules as your dumb daughter, is THAT understood?" "RUFF!" my mom's bark was far more satisfying and realistic. "Good girls!" he attached leashes to our collars and had us trail him outside in the position he calls 'heel'. "The privilege of shitting inside is over. That was far too good for you – You will be pissing and shitting like dogs outside rain or shine, got it?" "RRUFF" we both barked. "You've got three minutes to squat like a dog and shit and piss. Do it in the flowers. Dad says you will dig a pit that can be filled in if this is going to be long term. The ground was still wet from last night's dew and the grass was already itching my knees and palms. I tried my hardest not to scrunch up my nose in disgust but I knew Chris noticed. He slapped my ass and told me to hurry. I pissed and just shit a little. A fact my brother took a lot of glee in comparing how much more my mom was able to unload on the lawn. "Way to go Mom!" "Present your asses!" Chris announced our time was up and expected us to kneel so that our faces were flush with the grass and our butts were stuck up in the air spread wide. He stuck his finger in and wiggled them around. He seemed disappointed but added "I didn't feel any loose turd balls in there so you two won't be punished – good job." He stuck the finger he had up mom's ass in my mouth for me to clean and gave mom mine. "Dogs don't use toilet paper." he explained as he directed me behind mom to clean her pussy and ass with my mouth. I wanted to say "Dog's don't lick each other out this way either." but obviously all I could do was "RUFF" in agreement. It didn't taste that bad and it wasn't like this was the first time I ate mom out. She pushed her back into me a little and Chris caught it, "Don't you two turn this into something sexual, just clean each other and be done with it." Then he turned the cold hose on us and began spraying us down. Chris had two rubber butt plugs that had been made with what looked like a dog's tail on the end. He told us that in the future we would carry them outside in our mouths and after we finish shitting we would have them inserted. "Cow-tits is lucky, she'll wear hers just until she gets to work but you'll have yours in all day until it's time for a shit break." Chris made a show of sticking them in our mouths to wet them down and then pushing them up our asses. "Wiggle" and we wiggled at his command. "Waggle!" and we both smirked and wiggled again. "You'll have to work on the difference between wiggle and waggle" Chris liked to joke about some of our training. I know in a way it was his release valve so he didn't feel quite so guilty about putting us through the ringer. He was genuinely pretty funny some times and as bleak as things had begun this morning I was glad for any kind of reason to smile. Chris told us we would eat cold dry dog food outside until we dry off, then come inside and make them breakfast and with whatever time we had left we could put on make-up and dry our hair. The Dog food was REALLY dog food. I was hoping it would be cheerios or something but no it was some kind of nasty flavored dry dog cereal. He put a single bowl of water outside and went back in laughing. "No talking, shit-stains." We didn't and at first we picked at the dog food with our fingers. I made a face while I crunched a piece and choked it down and then mom laughed and did the same. After the fourth piece with my finger I bent over the bowl and ate on all fours and she did too. We didn't come anywhere close to finishing it. When Chris returned he pointed out we'd be 'hungry later' and chided us for wasting food. We made their breakfast and hurried to get our hair and makeup done. I think the part I missed the most about the silence, I hate to admit is, the affirmations that they usually gave me a little push to accept this situation. Bill and Chris talked and laughed at us but didn't talk TO us except to tell us what to do. Bill told mom that a new guy would be her key-holder at work and I think it bothered her but all she could say was "Ruff" in response. I felt bad for her and the bond between us has grown so much I think we were starting to communicate entire emotions in just the tone of our barks together. When it was time for Chris to take me to the Bus, Dad called me over so that he could remove the butt plug tail right before I got dressed at the door. "You are going to school as my daughter. You are unruly, selfish, vain and you made your choice last Friday. If you get kicked out of school, you will join Rosco outside as the family pet until you go back to school EVEN if you earn all your stars, is that understood?" "RUFF!" I barked with a hint of a tear starting to form in my eye. "Okay, mind your betters." He dismissed me after making me clean off my tail and deposit it with my mouth in the cardboard box in the living room with all our clothes. Then like every morning, clothes and shoes were chosen for me. After quickly dressing I picked up Chris' and my books and then put my wrists in front of me so Chris could cuff my wrists together. "Want to wear your chastity belt to school, Sis?" I didn't bark. "You know that means that those pussy lips and asshole can be played with by key holders and people I rent you to right?" "Ruff" "Okay, you had your choice, dumb ass. Frankly, I don't know why we bought these things for you if you two will never wear them." Chris gave me permission to freely speak shortly after we left the house. We always wait at the bus stop a little distance away but by now everyone knew that Chris had cuffed my hands together so it really wasn't that big of a secret. "So, you think you will be kicked out of school?" he asked me. His tone was that of concern and not sarcasm. I told him I didn't know and when he asked if I cared I said I didn't know either because I wasn't sure. "You liked it out there this morning?" I wanted to give him an angry look that I clearly did not like what we did out there but I suppressed the urge to be a smart ass and said, "No Sir, I didn't like it but I know you were just giving me a preview. I was more concerned mom is suffering for something I did." "Cow-tits knows you are in this together. She is a good sport about it." "Chris-Sir," I addressed him as a brother and an owner, "Do you really see us as Cow-tits and ass-face or does part of you see us as your sister Jamie and your mom?" Chris was a little uncomfortable and he asked me, "What does it say on your asshole?" "It says Whore Sir." I admitted. "Whose whore are you?" he asked. "Yours and Dads, Sir." I replied diligently. "So if you don't see yourself as Jamie, why should I again?" and with that he unlocked my handcuffs and turned to get on the bus leaving me to catch up. I usually have to sit on the lap of whatever boy he picks and today he picked someone far enough away from him I couldn't ask him any more questions. The boy was nice enough and let me catch up on my journal with just a few fingers under my skirt. He kept making me smell his fingers and I had to just politely smile and whiff my own juices as if I enjoyed it. I was sure wherever mom was about now, it was even worse for her so I really have no room to complain about it. Once the bus arrived at School, Cathy Griffin caught up with me. "Hello Mistress." "Well, where have you been all weekend slut?" Cathy said accusingly. "Serving my betters, and being a good, obedient girl, Ma'am." I answered plainly. I told her that I was now giving BJ's for ten and being fucked in the ass for twenty. "Hah, I still don't get why you won't give up the pussy." She casually commented and I began to wonder myself if I was being silly or stubborn. "You know if you get kicked out of school, you are going to be LITERALLY in the dog house?" she smirked. "Yes Ma'am, I have been reminded of that fact." I told her. "You are getting awfully uppity with me." Cathy wanted to get a rise out of me and I wasn't giving it to her. I remained calm and answered submissively that I was being obedient and truthful. "Lift up the back of your skirt and show that freshmen what is on your ass." I was never sure what Cathy's rules were about how far she could order me. I looked over at the shy freshmen and Cathy put her hands on her hips, "That precious crease that you shit out of so special you can't show him whether or not you have your chastity belt on?" I gave him a wink and lifted up my skirt so that this kid I would never have even noticed if he hadn't been pointed out could see my bare ass and tattoo. Chris didn't want us "wasting" body makeup covering up our tattoo unless it was a special occasion so it was on full display. His eyes lit up and then when he read my ass he looked confused. I gave him a wintry smile and followed my Mistress to my first class. I wondered what he must think of me. He probably thinks I am just like all the other slutty girls who are trying to be like Miley Cyrus or Brittany Spears in this "look at me- look at me" world of webcams and shocking up-skirt photos on TMZ. These things don't ruin their careers it keeps them in the public eye. The Kardassians built four shows on "E" because one of them has a nice butt and a sex tape. I just saw Miley Cyrus, former straight-laced teen sensation, eat a cake shaped like a cock. You know, wouldn't it be ironic if instead of doing that because she craves attention, it's because she has someone like Cathy Griffin making her do it? I have just as much idea why the teen stars do what they do as that freshmen boy knows why I showed him my ass. Am I being an obedient slut who is dutifully taking my medicine no matter how sour it is going down to fulfill my agreement with Dad and Chris? Am I secretly enjoying living on the edge and learning about my limitations and shortcomings? To be honest, I have just as much idea why I showed my ass when given the order as that boy does. My homeroom is with Mr. Love and Mistress Griffin is in charge of me then. Mr. Love, bless him, does his best to pretend he doesn't notice my behavior. He gets nervous and clears his throat and rolls his eyes. Unless he tells me to stop I have to soldier on with what I am doing - rules are rules. "You will sharpen your pencil, and then you may be seated." Mistress Griffin gives me a familiar order. "Thank you, Ma'am." I set my book bag on the ground, then bend over and take out the well sharpened pencil that I always carry. I snap the lead on purpose. I stay like this for about thirty seconds so that if anyone in my home room wants, they can see up my skirt from behind me, or down my blouse. This morning is no exception and several people get a morning chuckle at my expense. Then I walk to the blackboard where the pencil sharpener is. I asked Mr. Love if I can have permission to sharpen my pencil. As he has every day, "You know it's not necessary to ask me Mrs. Taylor." This is all a charade, I know I don't have to ask him but I have to say, "I am sorry Sir, I am so used to asking for permission that it is a habit." I proceed to jiggle my tits and ass as I crank the old fashioned hand sharpener on the wall to make the kind of show that Mistress Cathy wants me to put on and when finished sharpening my pencil, I licked my lips and blew on the pencil shavings as sexily as I can while looking my teacher in the eye. A little part of me enjoys making him so uncomfortable. I know I am not the first or the last girl to see how far she can push things with a teacher but I doubt anyone has pushed things this far. As I've done every morning since this started, I "drop" the pencil accidentally and facing away from him bend over deeply to pick it up to show him my naked ass. He clears his throat like he is choking and I smile to look through my legs at him. This was his most vocal response yet. He wasn't looking at the hint of my ass peeping out of my short skirt. He was looking at the door in front of me. I turned to see what he was looking at and it was acting principal Dragovich. "Jamie Taylor, can you come with me?" I am sure my jaw dropped open and I had an 'Oh shit' look on my face. The rest of the class was giggling at my being caught in such a humiliating position, even Cathy Griffin. The Principal usually summons you with a PA announcement or sends a teacher's assistant. I was in pretty deep doo-doo if he was coming to get me himself. "Yes Sir." I stood up to leave. I've been a 'bad girl' these last few weeks but there is a giant part of me that is still a goody two-shoes and being in trouble had just made my asshole pucker a little. "You might want to bring your books." The Principal said to a chorus of "Ohhhh, she's in trouble" from the other students. "Yes Sir" I went to get my books and Cathy gave me an intense self-satisfied gaze that said I had better pick them up the same way I set them down. I took a deep breath and bent over giving an unobstructed view down my blouse and up my skirt. I was already in trouble – could it get any worse? He walked me to his office in silence. I was already formulating my responses to questions he might pose. I wished he would just start asking me some. Sometimes being an over-achiever is really bad because I was beating myself up before he even began. He had me sit in the waiting room of the Principal's Office while he went in to take care of some things. I had the distinct feeling that was a tactic to impress upon me how busy he was and how in trouble I was. That's when I started to journal my morning's adventure leading up to the moment when he summoned me into his office. He offered me a seat and got right down to things, "You know why you are here?" "The half-time show, sir?" I offered meekly. "That is one of the reasons." He reminded me, "Not long ago when I was still Assistant Principal, I saw a girl who apparently looked just like you in the boy's bathroom masturbating with a banana. You don't happen to know anything about that do you?" I did and I knew that he was just toying with me - all I could say was "Yes Sir". "I didn't want this job as Principal. The school system is a mess and I have 99 problems to deal with before noon -budgets, standardized tests, fights between students, personal displays of affection in the halls, and behavior problems." He let the gravity of 'behavior problems' sink in that he was talking about yours truly. "I used to enjoy working in discipline," he steepled his fingers on his desk over a pile of fiscal reports. "That was simple. I could find a kid smoking and then give him detention or suspension. I am not a mean guy though. You know why I like Discipline?" "So you can help bad kids learn the error of their ways and be good kids?" I ventured a guess. It was I suppose on some level what my father and brother were doing for me. "You know that is a good way of putting it. I had a kid who used to be in school suspension every other week just contact me on Facebook. He said he couldn't remember any of his teachers but he remembered me. He said I made a difference because I listened and offered him practical advice and now he isn't doing great but he isn't in trouble. He's got a wife and a family and moved to Tucson." I didn't know what this had to do with me. "So before we get into why you are here, is there something you would like to tell me about what has been going on?" he offered. I shook my head no. "Your record was perfect before two weeks ago - head of the cheerleaders, volunteer on a half a dozen clubs, national honor society, perfect attendance?" He said the last one like he was surprised. "Yes Sir" I agreed with him. "Look, I know there is a long tradition in this school of senior pranks and initiations into clubs that existed back when I was a student here." He sat back in his chair. "I know that Cathy Griffin is one of the chief instigators of some cheer-leader club and you aren't the only girl trouncing around the school with short skirts and no bra trying to play whatever dare game she is running." I was silent. "I don't want to know what she had over Principal Banks. I suspect it had something to do with his daughter who was also on the cheer squad before he yanked her out of public school and put her in a private academy." I remained silent. "What I want to know is, what does Jamie Taylor get out of behaving this way that she is willing to be here in my office over it?" "Discipline, Sir." I answered. He motioned for me to elaborate and I added, "Well, it's hard to explain." "Try me." He sat back in his chair. "I don't know where to begin, Sir." The Principal decided to share with me a story from his own life "I was a Fullback when I went to Cherry Lawn. Did you know that I used to be on the team?" he didn't wait for me to acknowledge whether I did or didn't. "I wanted so much to be on varsity and with the in-crowd." He described how there used to be 'Freshman beat-down' where upper classman had paddles and after the first pep rally of the season would chase scrawny freshmen home from school. If they caught them they would paddle them. "The cheerleaders had their own thing, they'd ride home in the back of a pickup truck with baby pacifiers in their mouth and all I know is that if half the rumors of their hazing rituals were true that it's the stuff school boys dream about." I knew he was trying to 'relate' to me by offering me something from his past. I had seen enough episodes of Law and Order to get the good-cop/bad-cop routine. "Now Mr. Murphy tells me that among the incidents at the football game last night, they included Hope Miller walking out of the changing station completely naked. Would you happen to know anything about that?" I didn't know what to say. "I see by the look on your face that this is as much a mystery to you as our banana girl is?" He was toying with me. "Look you guys are going to be adults pretty soon and when you go to a University you'll find that sororities and fraternities are still sending pledges to run the campus naked or do humiliating dares. I get it – we live in the 'girls gone wild' age. I assumed he meant the same thing I did about former Disney starlets trying to hold on to the limelight by flashing the paparazzi and doing outrageous things. "Okay, this is getting uncomfortable for me. Would you prefer I have a female administrator come and ask you these questions?" Mr. Dragovich said politely. "No sir, I am fine. I am not sure what you want to know." "Let me cut to the chase then," I thought he already had. "There is video tape of you in what appeared to be just body paint being carried on the field to perform in the nude, and of course the posters that were around the school of you before the pep rally in wooden stocks." I didn't say anything. "You are a good student with a good record and if you can tell us who put you up to it and who bought the body paint, then we can probably overlook the need to suspend you. I am assuming you were coerced into participating as some sort of senior prank or initiation?" I wasn't sure what to say. I hate lying about as much I hate using the term "hate". "We have overlooked a lot of the incidents because the school has been in transition of leadership and with all the budget cuts and having more students than we really have capacity for we just haven't had time to rein things in." He smiled at me. "The thing is we can only overlook so much before things get out of hand and I think they are, so I would like to ask you again to just be honest with me and tell me what you know and I may not have to suspend you." I knew that suspension meant being the family pet – even after I earn my stars if it lasts longer. I bit my lip weighing my options. There were a hundred scenarios running through my mind about what to do. He could see I was contemplating my options and he added that he could arrange to have my parents, Mr. Murphy and the parents of the football players who brought me on stage all come together to discuss it - "I just hate the paperwork and red tape" Mr. Dragovich was a giant of a man and probably not cut out to be an administrator. I could tell he probably did want to work this out one on one with me. "I appreciate what you are trying to do Sir, and I am not going to say I wasn't wearing body paint when I went out for half-time. I was planning to resign cheer because I feel like I have spent too much time pursuing popularity and not enough time with my family. I wanted to go out with a bang." "So you want me to believe that you, an honors student who never had any history of trouble, got it into your head to cover yourself in Cherry lawn colors from head to toe and be carried out during half-time just for the thrill of it?" he was rightfully skeptical. "That's just it Sir, I never had a history of getting in trouble. What stories do I have about freshman beat-down and pacifiers in the back of a truck to tell if I always keep my nose clean and do what is right?" "Trust me. Having stories like that isn't the best thing in the world." He seemed to be picturing one of the spankings he delivered or may have had delivered to him. "Look, I am going to be honest. I brought you here informally because I do not believe you are a bad kid. I am not in the habit of suspending good kids. How about we try this – you have resigned cheerleading so you have no reason to keep doing whatever your initiation is all about." He explained that if anyone brings up the pep rally to say that I had cleared it with the school and that I had on a full bikini under the body paint. That I could just go back to wearing less provocative clothes and behaving myself and he would give me a second chance. "That's just it sir, I am already on my second chance." He didn't seem to understand. I wasn't sure I did either. Why did I keep flapping my gums when it sounded like I just dodged another school suspension? "I blew my first chance by getting absorbed in my own life and what I thought everyone expected me to be, Sir." he didn't look pleased but I continued, "I am not a good kid, Sir. I am a vain, thoughtless, selfish over-achiever and I won't be going back to that prudish goody-two-shoes." "Okay, Okay." he smiled, "No one is asking you to go back to the goody two shoes, but I am going to say this and I will deny it if it leaves my office. Honey I can see your boobs right through that shirt. The dress code here is liberal as it is and the teachers don't have time, or energy, to keep up with every creative way girls come up with to find a way around the rules, so unless it is over the top we just look the other way." He cleared his throat reminding me of Mr. Love when he gets uncomfortable, "But I can clearly see what I think are piercings poking out of your shirt?" I lifted my top to remove all doubt. It was a very thin blouse that left almost nothing to the imagination anyway. "Yes Sir." "Okay, I get it. Put your shirt back down." Mr. Dragovich said with disappointment. He shifted uncomfortably before continuing, "You are going through a little rebellion phase, and you got yourself a piercing. Hey, I had a diamond earring when I was in high school. Now you think showing your boobs is going to shock me and I guess that is what you want, The attention of being a bad girl so mom and dad take notice of you?" "No Sir, I get plenty of attention at home. My mom has the same piercings." "Nothing surprises me these days." He shook his head in disbelief. "I respect your decision and freedom of expression." He sounded like he was reciting from a text book. "Actually that is what the text books say we are supposed to do, but frankly, if you were my daughter I would insist you take those out and put on a bra, young lady!" "I used to wear a bra, even to sleep because I was so uptight. I am learning that my boobs are just part of my body, like an elbow or an ankle and that they are not special or to be hidden away. If someone wants to see them or touch them they can." "I don't claim to understand what goes on in your head. You kids live-journal and listen to emo music and live in a world that is really different at times from how I grew up. It is obvious you are rebelling and from what I don't know ... maybe I don't want to know. I am offering you a chance to just behave yourself. Keep your nose clean and avoid punishment." "I am afraid it's too late to avoid punishment, Sir." I was already being punished for the rotten things we did – and not just enslaving my father and brother for weeks. "I don't believe I understand. You want me to suspend you?" Mr. Dragovich asked me point blank. "No Sir" I knew it would be worse for me at home than at school but a part of me was wrestling with the right answer. The things I did leading up to the pep rally, and after, probably did warrant a suspension – was I so special that the rules didn't apply to me? "All I am asking is for you to go back to the Jamie of about two weeks ago before all the shenanigans." "I can't go back to that girl, Sir. I've come too far" it instantly dawned on me that after two weeks dressing like this at school that I would not be able to start coming to school dressed conservatively ever again. I had changed so much that it was no longer who I was. I would have to start thinking about my identity when this is all over but right now my mind was focused on the conversation at hand. He seemed determined to give me a choice – to make me make a choice. Life would be so much simpler if these things were decided for me? Am I becoming a true "submissive"? Dad has told me many times before that if I check out of what becomes of me and just passively go along with whatever someone else decided for me, that I've missed the point of it all. I am supposed to obey, but I am also to be an active participant and make choices and face the consequences of those choices. "I believe you should suspend me, Sir." I parted my legs wide even though he couldn't see me on his side of the desk, and put both hands on the arm rest of my chair. The body language I was exuding was certainty. The consequences of my decision were something I was just going to have to live with. "Why is it that you think you should be suspended?" Mr. Dragovich pursed his lips in amusement. "Well, there are many reasons." I hadn't expected him to ask a follow-up. I decided to make a choice and my gut told me to make the one I did. "I did not make the poster of me that appeared all over school and I am not sure who did. That was taken at the county fair the night before when I was in one of those wooden stocks that people pose for photos in? Some of the football players showed up at the end and snapped that. Having said that, I do take blame for being in the photo, just not distributing it around school." He nodded as I took inventory of my situation and the events that led up to my decision. "Yes I did see Hope Miller leave the dressing room. I didn't have anything to do with her decision to take her clothes off and run around the bleachers. I don't know why she did that". The Principal nodded again and added, "It doesn't sound like anything is your fault?" I held up a finger that I wasn't done yet, "It was my decision to go out with a 'bang' at Friday night's game. I offered some football player's sexual favors if they would lead me out on the field in a mock pillory, while I danced around with nothing on but body paint in the school colors. I figured I'd be the girl everyone is talking about instead of just being someone who talks about her - Do something memorable like your freshman bash." He nodded in understanding or at least I assumed he was understanding me. I was working through the points in my head as I made them one by one for the first time. Why hadn't I prepared myself better for the inevitable conversation about my actions this morning? If only I had more time to wrestle with the idea that if I was being objective, anyone who did what I did should be suspended? Why am I obsessed with justice and rules? Is it because I am a Libra? I wish I was a Leo like my mom. "I wear this collar, dress this way and have these piercings and my tattoo because I have chosen to be submissive, Sir." I said out loud feeling like I was giving a very mild form of affirmation. He shook his head for me to clarify what I had just said. "I have made some bad decisions and choices when I had free-will, and now I let others make certain decisions for me about how to behave, how to treat others, what to wear, what to eat, Sir." I explained what submissive meant. "So if others told you to jump off a bridge, you would jump?" Mr. Dragovich was playing devil's advocate I suppose. "The agreement I made was that there are certain limits to what I will do if they ORDER it. There are some things I must do, like call you Sir as a sign of respect." He nodded, "I actually like being called Sir, it's not something I hear very often unless it's sarcastic." He said with a look of bemusement. "It is my hope that speaking to you with deference as my better is pleasing to you and that is why I have agreed to live by these rules. I am not doing it to get attention or to rebel – far from it." I explained. "As to jumping off a bridge - well there are some choices I get to make for myself and face the consequences. If they gave me the choice to jump off a bridge, to continue your metaphor, I would look down at how deep it is, and how risky the jump is and whether or not I will just get bruised and banged up or if the current will carry me away." He nodded in surprise that I didn't just give the stock "Whatever" or "No would you?" that most teenagers might have in response. "My trainers offer me enough of a reward to take the risk and I must make the choice and live with the consequences." I said. "What kind of reward?" "I earn gold stars, if I get 100 of them I earn back some of the privileges I have been doing without for the last two weeks, Sir." "I see and Cathy Griffin is one of your trainers I take it?" He grinned. "I thought you did not want to know the details, sir?" "Okay you got me there," he smiled, "But until you are an adult you really shouldn't be called on to make decisions that can put you in jeopardy?" He was being sweet and considerate and having been dumped on for two weeks it felt nice to exchange ideas with someone so caring. "Every time you step into a car with someone who gets out on the highway you made a decision that put you in jeopardy. The decisions I am allowed to make are preparing me for adult hood – because without practice how will I know how to avoid bad decisions?" "Well if you are sexually active, some of the decisions you make could make you a teen mother." He laughed. "I am a virgin, Sir!" I said with a half-smile. I mean if you didn't count all the blowjobs and getting fucked up the ass this weekend. He looked at me and said, "If you say so" skeptically. It's funny we live in a world where losing your phone is more dramatic than losing your virginity. The way I dress and act I can see why he thinks I would take it lightly. I am not saying I am shocked. It is just interesting the way everyone seems to think it is so unlikely. Hell, it probably won't be long anyway. "So if you want me to make a choice it boils down to, stay in school and continue to be submissive until I earn all of my stars or go home and face the music with my father, then I pick go home and face the music with my father. "Oh your dad is strict? What exactly will he do? Tell you no more piercings for a week?" "Let's just say I will be in the dog house until I get back to school." I smirked again. It had felt good to be honest with Mr. Dragovich on some level but I could not resist the opportunity to say it like it was a metaphor when it wasn't. "Well I hate to say I agree with you, but if you are telling me you went out to the pep rally naked and promised sexual favors, Mrs. Virgin then I guess I'd have no choice." "Those were only blowjobs and they got too drunk for me to actually make good on my promise, Sir." I had the distinct feeling Mr. Dragovich shifted in his seat to hide his boner when I said it just like that. I did my best perky and sweet smile and I had a feeling I had probably just over-shared. It felt good to tell the truth but at the same time I felt I was on shaky ground. We had talked about different protocols to use and this was our 'red alert' for parent teacher conferences, court appearances and the like. I was to use the most modesty and decorum possible and I knew that but I said what I did anyway. I had the distinct feeling he wanted to give me another chance if only I would let him. Why wasn't I letting him? I looked down and wrung my hands. I could see the very distinct outline of the words "Pussy Broke, Use Rear Entrance" on my tummy from magic marker that hadn't completely faded. If he noticed, he was doing a good job of pretending to be uninterested in reading it. "Well what you want and what is best for you may be two different things. I am going to speak with your parents and then make a decision." He had my file open and he flipped to a page with our contact numbers. I probably shouldn't have brightened so much knowing that the decision was out of my hands once again. I had gone back and forth a dozen times in my mind about the pros and cons of what was going to happen if I got kicked out of school. This was really a lot like the funishment I could have taken at home or reporting to Mrs. Waxerman's house. I know what humiliation at school is going to feel like while I earn back my stars and I've made it this far – maybe I should change my mind and stay in school. "Yes, actually I think I was being hasty about being asked to be expelled. I probably should just try to be good and stay in school." I smiled at him. He wasn't listening - He had already dialed my mom's work. "Yes, I am calling for Mrs. Taylor. This is her daughter's Principal Mr. Dragovich," there was a pause where he seemed confused "She is very tied up right now?" He seemed surprised mom hadn't taken his call. I smiled knowing that given mom's arrangement at work that the answer he got was probably more literal than figurative. What a bad girl I am for not instantly feeling bad that my mom is probably physically restrained in her office? He dialed my dad and left a voice mail for him. That was surprising because I knew Dad was almost always home. "You go on to class and I will make a decision later today." "As you wish Sir." I've always had good posture but the heels really do make me sway. I wondered if his gaze followed me out but I didn't look back. I was too busy wondering what he would decide and what my dad would say when he talked to him. Dad wasn't in favor of the stunt and his reason for me being outside was it's a consequence to being home all day. So on the one hand he seems to want me in school – while on the other he and Chris have been laughing off and on and calling me "Alpo Girl" and making snide references to it all weekend. Be careful what you wish for – I wished to have the decision taken out of my hands and now it seems to be up to my father and the principal. I guess one thing I learned about myself and probably women in general is once we get what we thought we wanted – we don't want it anymore. I think girls my age can be fickle and change our mind on our dime. I hate feeling like the main character in a Taylor Swift song. It was already time for my check in with my brother. I rushed to get his books from my locker and then meet him on the other side of school. My usual routine of running through the throng of kids while they elbowed, poked and prodded me wasn't working because I was even further away from where to meet me since I was coming from the Principal's office than even my normal routine when I followed my schedule. When I finally saw him standing in front of his class on the Industrial Arts wing he was shaking his head "Getting lazy, doggy?" "No time sir, please I am going to be late." I gave him his books while I bit my lower lip in worry while not trying to seem like I was rushed. "What is the worst that could happen? You get suspended?" "Please sir, dismiss me so I can get to class." The bell rang and he looked up "Too late". He turned to go into his class right behind him and turned casually "You are dismissed." I was already late but I hurried to my English class. I know I've gushed about Mr. Young being handsome and one of my favorite teachers many times and journal you know me well enough by now that I would hate to be late to any class – but most of all this one. I walked into class interrupting Mr. Young in one of his monologues. He usually tells a little anecdote about his weekend to warm up before jumping into the work – to get us listening. "I was at the Principal's office, Sir" I said apologetically. "I know. It's okay have a seat Jamie." he smiled at me in a way that indicated he knew about the scandal brewing over the half-time show. I am sure most of the faculty and students did – it felt like their eyes were all on my back. Cathy scolded me, "Slower than normal, Chris will punish you at lunch for this." She whispered. "He dismissed me late, Ma'am" I whispered back. "Is that because you showed up late? And you know I prefer Mistress." She whispered as if she didn't care if we'd get caught. "Mrs. Griffin and Mrs. Taylor did you have something you wanted to share with the class?" Mr. Young rarely put people on the spot like that. "Sorry Mr. Young, I was just curious if my head cheerleader was kicked out of school for that racy number she put on at the Rams game this weekend." Cathy said matter-of-factly. The other students 'ooohed' and 'ahhhed' because the rumor mill had obviously been very active. I stood up and announced "I didn't mean to bring any shame on the school. I just wanted to quit cheerleading with a bang." Several boys laughed when I said 'bang' but quickly silenced when Mr. Young looked at them and gave me the nod to sit down. The class was uneventful – the typical sit with legs wide apart and flash whoever wants a look up my skirt - until the very end. As everyone was leaving for lunch Mr. Young called me over to speak to him privately. "Jamie, you are one of my favorite students and you have a real gift for writing," Mr. Young said in that positive way where you just know a "but" is coming. I nodded – I am terrible at accepting compliments. "But, you have really changed over the last two weeks and I am growing very concerned where this is all coming from." He was interested in me and all I could notice was his musky cologne. I've been in the mall before looking for it – like a silly school girl pretending I was shopping for my father. I think its Tuscany. "I appreciate the concern Sir, but I need to get to lunch." I stood frozen. I had wanted to talk to him but I think I was more afraid of what my brother would do if I was late for lunch. "Yes, well if you want to talk after school or something, I could arrange a counselor, perhaps a woman who is trained in the types of things that may be bothering you." he sounded concerned and passed me a number. I took it and rushed out into the hallway. Cathy was waiting, "Queen LaQueefa, carry my books" she unloaded her books into my waiting arms. "Is your pussy wet now that Mr. Young wanted a word with you?" "You know I am almost always aroused now that I have that piercing dangling between my legs, Mistress." I said in a lower voice as we walked to the lunch room. "I think you know you are a little more turned on than normal, you don't mind if I have a check do you?" she sneered, pushing me over between some lockers and standing in front of me. She drove a finger under my skirt and into my pussy and then felt around, "Hmmm, I think I feel that precious hymen" she laughed as she pulled her finger out and held it in front of my face. She sniffed it "smells like tuna, have a taste." I looked her in the eye and opened my mouth so she could feed my own slick juices dripping down her finger. "Yes Mistress, I think you are right." "Should you be punished for getting turned on when you should have your mind on your school work?" "Yes Mistress" I admitted – that was an established rule from the very get go but I was growing to hate how much she seemed to enjoy it. I think I would ratherhave a harsher punishment if it would deny her the satisfaction of knowing I would have to answer for it. She led me down the hall with her hand pressed to my back, "You'll tell your brother about your wet pussy and lateness, and any other shortcoming when you get to lunch and beg for correction." It wasn't a suggestion and I knew it. Chris had grown extraordinarily popular since this all began. His table was now filled with not only nerds and geeks but some of the more popular boys in school who had found out he was willing to 'rent his sister' out. He was seated like an English monarch holding court in the middle of the table with the other students hanging on his every word. Their faces brightened when I approached and stood before him in the most contrite manner possible. Cathy took our books and made a boy seated to Chris's immediate left vacate the spot for her. The geeky boy folded immediately – she simply intimidated him into assuming she was more worthy of the seat. "Hello Sir, I have to report my shortcomings and ask for punishment." I said as I had several times before in front of these boys. They listened with big smiles glued to their faces as I explained how I had been late and that my pussy was wet. Tsoong was sitting to Chris's immediate right and he offered me a seat on his lap. I wasted no time sitting down. "I don't know if I believe if you are still wet, pull your piss flaps open so Tsoong can inspect you." I didn't look at Tsoong – he had rented me last week and been a gentleman and I knew he wasn't particularly comfortable being cruel to me. However, I as I reached under my skirt to pull my pussy lips open he wasted no time fingering me. "Don't finger bang her, just dip your stick and let's see if you have stink finger." Chris laughed and the other boy's laughed with him. Tsoong withdrew his finger and held it up. "So was she extra wet and juicy?" he asked as I continued to hold myself open under my skirt. I was waiting for the order to release. "I think so, yes" he said unsure of himself to the immature laughter of boys, none which were probably even sure how to tell if I was or wasn't turned on themselves. "Why were you late, Ass face?" "I was late dropping your books off, so that made me late getting to my English class Sir. I was not trying to be lazy." "Excuses, excuses. You weren't trying to be late – but you were." Chris's gaze bore into me. "Why were you late dropping off my books?" "I was with Mr. Dragovich and he released me without enough time to get to my check in, Sir." that was true. "Squeeze those piss flaps and pull them apart, Ass face," Chris ordered and I clenched down on my own pussy lips with my fingers. I am sure my discomfort amused him as he ordered me to explain why I was in the principal's office. "He is deciding whether or not to suspend me because I was carried out wearing only Cherry Lawn Red and White for the big game on Friday." Most of them had probably heard rumors, some more intense than that. "What did they decide?" Chris was enjoying every second of my discomfort. "He asked me whether I wanted to be suspended or not, and then decided to call mom and dad but he couldn't reach them." "I bet you told him you were looking forward to being suspended so you could spend your afternoons in the backyard chained up like a doggy?" the boys laughed. I couldn't be sure how much they all knew about my arrangement but I just returned his laughter with a wintry smile. "Actually Sir, I am not sure it might not be easier to spend my time at home than here." I usually didn't try to rain on his parade and I let him have his fun at my expense but I felt a little defiant. "Oh trust me Sis, you won't enjoy it." he got quiet all of a sudden and stopped talking. I felt a large meaty hand clap me on the back – I turned thinking it was Mr. Dragovich come to inform me of my suspension. It was Dave Stravosky one of the football players who carried me on the field with his friends. "I think you still owe me a little something you promised but never delivered?" "I am sorry Sir, you passed out at the party." I remained discrete – he had fallen asleep with other naked guys and that was a mental image I didn't want in my head. "That isn't how I remember it at all" He was cock-sure of himself and full of swagger. "Did my sister promise to suck your dick for free? She has a habit of doing that. How much are blowjobs, slut?" Chris interjected. "Yes Sir, I promised to suck their dicks if they would carry me onto the field. You were the one who said I could." Then I paused and answered his second question, "Blowjobs are normally ten dollars." to a rousing cheer from the boys seated at the table. Cathy added, "How much to fuck you in the pooper?" "Twenty, Mistress." I admitted through near-gritted teeth to howls from the boys. "She thinks that clam between her legs is special and it isn't on the market yet." Cathy egged on the boys to keep laughing. "Your punishment will have to wait, Sis." Chris told me as he asked the football players if they wanted me to pay my debt and suck their dicks right now in the boy's bathroom. "Damn straight I do." Dave answered with a kind of almost over-the-top bravado of someone who might really not want it. I don't think anyone else noticed between all of the back-patting and cheering as I was told I could release my pussy lips and follow them into the boy's bathroom. "All you queers stay out this time," he announced to the peanut gallery of hanger-ons that were with Chris. "Last time this bitch tried to service me and my bro's in the bathroom you guys couldn't keep your mouth shut and we got caught. I don't want you watching me slip this bitch the bone!" He and his friends Noah and Thad escorted me into the last stall of the boy's bathroom. The stall door was missing (most likely to catch boy's smoking or for things like what we were about to do). Dave chased the students already in the bathroom out calling them 'fags'. I quickly removed what little I had on and kneeled on the cold tile. My tits fell full and were aching – I was either horny or I probably needed to milk myself. I decided to brush my hands against them to give myself a little sensation and take my mind off how completely surreal my life has become. "Good god, why get totally naked?" Thad asked me. "To amuse you, and if you decide to give me a pearl necklace it won't get all over my clothes Sir" – I wasn't going to make THAT mistake again. "Okay, get your peters out and start getting hard gentlemen" Dave announced to his friends without reaching for his own zipper. "What about you?" Noah reminded him. I was cupping my breasts – sneaking a little tweak of my nipples and waiting for one of them to stick their dick into my mouth so I could pay this debt and be done with it. "I will whip it out when you two do. I am always ready for some cheerleader tail." He didn't sound entirely sure of himself. As if to prove to himself more than them he pulled his dick out of his pants and it was flaccid and limp. I cupped his balls and pulled him closer to me and began to give him the best blowjob I know how to do. I've had a lot of practice and I use not only my spit and tongue to coax the cum out of a dick but I try to flash my smile and blue eyes up at them in the hopes my face makes them want to spunk faster. Dave was not getting harder, "You suck at sucking" he made a joke but his friends didn't laugh. He kept trying to get them to pull their dicks out. "Dude, do you want to see OUR dicks or something?" Noah said half-joking "You seem more intent on that than on the first class ball-washing you are getting from the Taylor slut." Hey, "Taylor slut" is a step up from Ass-Face I guess. Dave punched his fist into the plastic divider between stalls, "No dude, I just don't want to wait while you guys try to get hard." He turned back to me and began to try to throat fuck me with his half-limp dick intensely "uhnss-uhnsss" "Ahem" I heard the distinctive sound of Mr. Dragovich entering the bathroom. Dave pulled out quickly and zipped himself back up as the three jocks tried to distance themselves from me. "Going somewhere fellas?" Mr. Dragovich smiled at them and then looked at me, "Ah, looks like the banana girl." I was red-faced and busted dead to rights completely naked. "Jamie I was coming to tell you that your father said he didn't think you should be suspended and I agreed." He let that sink in, "I think you know that isn't possible now, don't you?" I stayed on the floor kneeling with my hands on my thighs "Yes Sir, I can see that" "How about you take a few minutes and collect yourself, and I'll have a chat with my favorite football players about some locker room hijinks and what just happened in here. You guys don't mind coming with me do you?" I was shocked he left me alone to get dressed. I suppose I shouldn't have expected him to grab me by my ear and pull me out of the bathroom. Dave gave me a red-eyed look like 'This is not over' as he followed the Principal out of the bathroom. I dressed quickly and then returned to Chris to tell him I had just been suspended. "Actually Sis, I feel bad for you." he said sounding genuinely empathetic. "Sucks to be me, I guess." I shifted my weight on the ball of my foot. "Yeah, it does. Hey before you go can you be a peach and take our trays to the garbage?" Cathy interrupted evilly. I took the empty trays and began my walk out of the lunch room to the Principal's Office. The Principal made me wait out of his office while he dealt with the Football players who left with only a few mean glances. After they left he didn't call me in, "Just wait out there, I really don't have anything more to say to you at this point in time. Your father will be here shortly." I watched a procession of kids come in and out of the Principal's office – skater kids in trouble for baggy pants hanging down below their waist, a girl who had pierced her nose in the girl's bathroom and couldn't stop the bleeding, a few fights. I was just one of many fires he had to put out on a daily basis – but I felt he was particularly disappointed with me. When my dad finally came to get me he looked me up and down with disgust, "I plead with them to let you out of your suspension and this is what you do? You know what this means?" "RUFF!" was all I said. ------- Chapter 15:Wendy's Journal "Easy cum - Easy go" STAR COUNT: WENDY: 51 Get out of jail cards: 1 WHORE: 5,3,0,0,1 JAMIE: 59 Get out of jail cards: 1 WHORE: 4,3,0,0,0 Note to reader: This is Wendy's journal from Monday Morning detailing the events after their first (and only) night working at Soft-tails as dancers. In order to increase readability, some of the dialogue exchanged was altered to appear in a 'narrative' story format. I awoke to Chris barking out "RUFF RUFF RUFF! RISE AND SMELL THE PUSSY, ASS FACE" in my daughter's face (and booming in my ear). Like almost every night I was tied face to face with my daughter naked and left to sleep on the living room floor. Honestly, I don't remember being this cruel to the guys but I did make Bill sleep on the floor some nights so I get it. I actually prefer they tie us up like this because we can snuggle and keep each other warm. I know you might judge me a twisted whore for enjoying being tucked up tightly with my daughters tits pressed to my chest all night but it beats shivering alone or some of the things they do when they don't tie us together. He sat over her and gave her a rundown of the new rules while I tried to wake myself up. What I wouldn't give for a decent shower and a cup of coffee. "RUFF!" she yipped like a pathetic poodle in response to something he said. I didn't really have to listen to the new rules but I knew when I caught, "follow the same dumb rules as your daughter" that I needed to sound off with a bark. "RUFF!" I growled and by Chris's amused expression and laughter it sounded like I pleased him. He had already leashed us and was walking us outside on all fours by the time I figured out he had said "follow the same rules as your dumb DAUGHTER" and not that the rules were dumb – same difference right? I guess I am getting a little jaded now that the routine of daily discipline has started to really set in on me. I don't think Jamie or Chris have noticed how comfortable I seem to have become with this arrangement – but I am getting a little worried that I am. I may grumble and whine but like a little trooper I just roll with whatever new horror the guys come up with day after day. This morning I was sore, probably from all the laps I rode last night at that bar, and the beating we got at the end. I was also thinking about my neighbor Van's casually arrogant face with his ray-bans on as he led me back over to the house when he was finished fucking the shit out of me yesterday. He stayed to watch me hang from the ropes in the living room while the guys teased and tormented me. I have to wonder if he is a sadist or he was just curious or not. I guess it's going to make things awkward at neighborhood block parties when I bump into him and he remembers me getting my ass reamed while I say what a dumb, lazy cunt I am and thanking my son for doing it to me. Chris gave us permission to shit and piss – like dogs hiking their side-leg of course. My daughter always just poops a perfectly shaped little turd and pisses in this dainty sort of sweet way. I dropped two huge disgusting logs and about a half-gallon of acrid piss as I emptied my bladder on our lawn. I felt so gross but Chris declared me once again the champion shitter of the morning. I have to laugh at the things that seem to amuse his devious mind – things that would truly sicken me if I were an outside observer having never lived through this. However, there is an informal, almost humorous vibe when Chris jokes around like that would take the edge off and adds a little levity to what would otherwise just seem shockingly perverse. Trust me it's a whole lot funnier in retrospect thinking about it than it was at the time hearing the crinkling and popping coming out of my butt as I tried to keep it off my thighs. I can't believe my star count hasn't moved since last night. Bill promised me that he wouldn't let me get ahead of Jamie but he didn't say he would let me fall so far behind her I don't catch up. I've done so many disgusting things "off the books" for him he should give me at least 58 stars so I am neck and neck with my well-meaning but naïve daughter. When Chris finished timing us he said "Present your asses!" expecting us to kneel so that our faces were flush with the grass and our butts were stuck up in the air spread wide. That wouldn't be so bad if the grass wasn't soaking wet from the morning dew and sprinklers. He did Jamie first and little miss perfect came out squeaky clean, "I didn't feel any loose turd balls in there so you two won't be punished – good job." He wasted no time making me clean that finger with my mouth and swirling his meaty pointer finger up my backdoor. He didn't grease it up or work it in, he just slammed it in and given all the anal training I've had I barely felt it. After he finished playing with our asses and making Jamie lick the nasty finger that had been in my behind he said "dogs don't use toilet paper!" This was our cue to clean each other. Jamie gave him a more resilient sounding "Ruff" and got behind me licking my pussy before moving up to my dirty sticky ass. I felt bad for her having to taste my sweaty rear-end because Jamie actually doesn't taste bad at all. "Don't you two turn this into something sexual, just clean each other and be done with it." Chris instructed but let's be honest that, that twisted motherfucker likes it when I push my crotch into Jamie's face - He isn't fooling me. When it was my turn to clean Jamie she had a sticky-sweet, musky smell that made me feel a little guilty for not being disturbed by what I was doing. I did a fully thorough job of cleaning her only to be interrupted by Chris kinking the garden hose to spritz me with cold water all over. Why have us clean each other if he is just going to spray us down? Oh, because my son is a pervert and wants to make his mom and sister eat each other out. I feel like I am getting jaded because I didn't mind eating her out as much as I did the fact that he made the entire exercise pointless by washing us down anyway. When Chris was finished playing around with the hose (and focusing on our tits and asses) he jammed rubber cone shaped butt plugs into our ass – the kind with a tail so they wag when you crawl around. I wanted to sing "Mooooon Riiivver" like Chevy Chase in that movie where he plays a reporter – I think Chris would get that reference but I was too chicken. I wasn't sure if he would punish me for not taking it seriously so I just wiggled my butt like a dog wagging her tail for a treat. "Cow-tits is lucky, she'll wear hers just until she gets to work but you'll have yours in all day until it's time for a shit break." Oh gosh, I was the lucky one? My poor daughter – I wish I hadn't gotten her involved in this. "Wiggle" and we wiggled at his command. "Waggle!" and we both smirked and wiggled again. "You'll have to work on the difference between wiggle and waggle." I wasn't sure what he meant but I could tell he was joking so I giggled and smiled at my daughter. I know she takes a little strength from the fact that we both share this hardship together with a sense of humor at times. Chris wasn't kidding about the doggy training – he made us come inside and make the guys breakfast but we were to think of ourselves as 'dogs'. I tried to be pleasant to Bill but he just said "Doggy's only bark" and smacked my ass hard. Bill wiped some of his pre-cum into my hair and made me dip my finger in my pussy and rub some of my juices around my face while he explained that I'd report to Jerry Cooper as my handler today. I had a feeling this was coming after what happened last weekend but I really have no idea what Jerry is going to do. He is so wishy-washy and sweet that I couldn't picture him being the conniving bastard that Steve had been. I smiled at my husband as if that was fine but searched his face for some sign of the emotion he wanted to see from me. I'd have done my best to fake the right emotion if I could figure out what is going on in his head. When Bill was lazy and didn't think things out as much, he was predictable and much easier to please. Did he expect me to be happy it was Jerry as the boss of me as a reward for a week of service well done? Or was he expecting me to freak out? Jerry is disturbing because he can be such a needy jellyfish, but he (and his son) already knows that I am a whore and a slut so it's not like my reputation with them can be salvaged. I had about a hundred questions to ask about how this was supposed to work but they gave us only a few minutes to eat outside – actual dry dog food. I did my best to munch it down because I was famished but in my mind a piece of me was thinking Chris was having too much fun watching us try to choke this nasty stuff down. How does Rosco do it? Jamie and I made a game of it and she made me laugh eating it with her fingers. If Chris had caught her I am sure he would have shoved that tail plug even further up her pert little ass. I wanted to give my daughter a final word of encouragement before she left for the bus but we had only a few minutes to apply makeup and do our hair. I know this much – after this training I won't need nearly as much time getting ready in the morning. The discipline has really made me re-evaluate what I found to be necessary to get ready for work. I was racing down the stairs as Chris locked handcuffs around his sister's wrists and let her carry his books out the door. I don't know how the kids at school don't notice that – or maybe they notice and things are so different these days they aren't as shocked as my generation would have been by it. Bill picked out my work clothes and let me put on my heels. He handcuffed me as he always does every morning but pushed me out the door completely naked with just a skirt and blouse to drape over myself. He had sent me out with a bath towel but never completely bare-ass. I half expected to see my neighbor Van outside waving at me but I am sure he was sleeping in this morning- he was not an early riser type. "RUFF!" I barked defiantly as Bill slammed the door laughing at me – and whispering "you motherfucker" under my breath. I crouched down in front of our truck in the driveway – correction "Bill's Truck" since at this point everything is his property including my ass. There were a few cars passing down our street but I don't think anyone saw me. I knew better than to get dressed before Jerry had a chance to look me over. Bill would have let me dress if he wanted me to greet him that way. At least I wasn't gagged this morning – but then give it time, that will come later. I quickly tapped my morning journal entry into my phone so I don't lose any of these wonderful Taylor family moments and kept an eye out for Jerry's jalopy. Jerry's green bomber is as unmistakable as Bill's tacky truck in a suburban neighborhood of Volvo's and new mini-vans. I watched him pull up and wait for me at the street. I waved to him to pull into the drive-way – at least Steve will pull all the way in and not make me run through the yard. Jerry stubbornly sat in his car honking as if I was making him late and not picking up on my signal. I finally bit my lip and made a mad dash for his car. He had to fiddle with the locks to let me in as I desperately looked around for signs of a neighbor catching my bare-ass flitting across the yard and standing next to this POS car. "Why don't you have your clothes on?" Jerry asked me when I finally got in. I had to sit on old newspapers and bills in the backseat because Jerry's car is a total mess (like his life?) "My husband wanted me to report to you this way in case you wanted to inspect me before giving me permission to get dressed, Sir?" I answered him seriously. I couldn't be sure if he was asking me to confirm like an affirmation or he just had no idea why I was out there shivering my heiney off in the buff. "Inspect you like how?" he said while keeping his eyes on the road as I laid in the backseat keeping my head down. "Check my cunt to make sure I am shaved smooth, pleasant smelling and not wet, check my boobs to make sure they are firm and..." he cut me off and said he got it. Speaking of tits, my nipples felt like they were going to burst if they didn't get tugged and twerked. I didn't say anything about it though as it would only add to my humiliation and make them want to wait longer to let the pressure build up. "You don't mind me being your key-holder do you? I mean no hard feelings about it right?" he said like he really expected me to bite his head off for enjoying it. "No Sir, you are my better and my husband feels you would make an excellent key-holder. Who am I to argue with his wisdom?" I said as submissively as I could. "You sound kind of sarcastic when you say it like that." he commented to himself. Was that a question? Should I respond to that? I had no idea just how frustrating it was going to be to serve this fat lonely man. "I apologize Sir, I am not trying to belittle you." I said very seriously. "See right there, it sounds like something you were forced to say." he sucked on his lip as he stared at the road. "You high tailed it the other night after I dropped you off at my Ex-wife's house." "That's because your son had rented me for the evening and he didn't give me a chance to say goodbye Sir." a slight embellishment – I just didn't want to get noticed while he and his ex-wife bickered and end up having both of them turn on me. "Oh I bet you absolutely loved that didn't you?" he sounded jealous already. "Your son was a Gentleman," I lied, "He took me to watch him play Magic The Gathering and then to Olive Garden for dinner." "My son has a more active dating life than me - So much for E-harmony's guarantee I'll find someone who matches me on (grumble)" he let his complaining grumble to a low drone that I didn't hear. "Sir, if you do not intend to inspect me, may I get dressed?" I asked noticing we were nearing the parking lot of my office building. "Sure" he shrugged. I began to think this might be easier than I had imagined given he didn't seem to be the kind of stickler Steve was. "Could you give me the key to the handcuffs, Sir?" "What?" he was preoccupied cursing at cars who cut him off in traffic. I've never really understood why negative people curse cars in front of them – it's not like those people are going to hear and improve their driving. "Did my husband go over with you my rules and boundaries Sir?" I asked meekly trying to shimmy into my skirt with the cuffs on. "I think so yes." How does he 'think so?' either my husband DID or DID NOT go over the rules. Jerry can be so frustrating –maybe this was going to be harder than I thought. I was already missing Steve's cocksure attitude – if he didn't know he would make something up. I had forgotten what an unrelenting curmudgeon he could be as he whined about his sad sack existence. I kept up appearances of trying to sound sympathetic picturing what it must be like to date this poor schmuck. I could picture a girl meeting him through a dating website and meeting for lunch or how long it might take for her to conveniently make an excuse to leave after he brings up his his ex-wife, his unpaid medical bills or one of a dozen things he probably shouldn't bring up on a first date. He parked way out in the boonies of the parking lot. He didn't even bother to look for a closer spot – like Eeyore he seemed resigned to fail at getting closer to the office by luck. He seemed to notice I was judging him or maybe he thought I was curious why he chose this out of the way parking spot on the far side of our building, "This way I always know where I parked my car". I have learned a lot about being submissive and making the man feel in charge and better about himself but I have to admit it is trying my patience not to go back to my old habits and give him a few pointers on how to not be such a loser. I now know my 'helpful tips' probably come off as being a nag or a perfectionist. I would not have thought twice about Bill's feelings if he had done the same thing and frankly I was gaining a new respect for Bill from being around Jerry – Even Bill at his most pathetic, lazy and illogical was Jerry on a good day. "Handcuffs, Sir?" I said with a helpful smile. "Yeah Sure" he had a handcuff key on a giant set of keys in his pocket. "Wow, you sure have a lot of keys?" I commented (but sounding like a question). "Yeah from old places I lived, and stuff like that" I had to literally bite down on my tongue to prevent myself from suggesting he toss the keys that he no longer uses. That isn't my place and despite Jerry being a cross between George Castanza and that guy from Office Space who kept talking about someone taking his stapler I was going to see this through according to the training I had received. "Thank you so much Sir" I stuffed the cuffs into my purse. This is normally the point when Steve would have insisted I shove a butt plug up my ass but Jerry didn't think to ask. He seemed more excited to be seen walking in the building with me. Hey it's not 'cheating' if I don't tell my key-holder what normally happens is it? Okay, now I am starting to see where Jamie gets her 'rule-follower' guilt from when things don't happen according to the rules even if it's not in her favor. I have to admit walking past the security guard in the front lobby without a giant plastic dick stuffed in my holes was a nice treat. He smiled at me as he always does as if he knows all of my dirty little secrets anyway. Jerry began to take me to accounting "Would you be more comfortable working out of my office, Sir?" "No this is where my cube is." He said grunting. He was out of breath –from taking the elevator? I was going to explain how my office was more private and he could login from my computer –but I noticed something that made everything almost worth it. Do you remember how at the book store this weekend I bumped into Vicky from work? Of course you do, you are my smart phone and you remember everything. Well anyway I kinda-sorta used a little reverse psychology to let Vicky know that I had picked a handler in Steve and that was going to catapult my career to the next level but under no circumstances should she try it. I asked her if she had read a phony-balogna career leg-up book I had just made up and naturally she said she had. I would have pretended to have read the latest career book if I had been asked the same question. Then I told her a handler is an up and coming young MALE executive. An older woman with cougar potential recruits him and helps advance his career. As a male, he can break through the glass ceiling and then he takes you to the top floor with him. The problem is you have to make him feel you are being submissive, stroke his ego, do what he wants. When I told her I wouldn't suggest it and the help-book was completely wrong, that sealed the deal. She thought I was simply throwing her off my winning idea. Vicky had apparently gone to Steve and demanded to do whatever I was doing because I watched him lead her through the cubicles to her Office in a skimpy skirt and top. I know that walk any place –it's someone trying to walk in heels with a fat dildo up their ass. I watched her for a long time with a giant smile on my face as I pictured all the things Steve was used to doing with me happening to my office rival. I completely tuned out Jerry who seemed to pouring his heart out to me about his ex-wife and how women had treated him. I could tell as soon as I heard the 'mmm-hmmmm' come out of my mouth that it was the sound of a woman who had lost interest in the conversation and apparently Jerry did too. "You know I could have made it much easier on you if you weren't such a bitch" he looked at me and furled his brow like an angry frustrated man. "You think this is easy, sir?" I was standing next to him in a cube in accounting wearing clothes that probably violated the company dress code in seventeen different ways. The fact that I was a senior vice president was probably the only reason no one dared to come up and ask me why I was there and dressed that way. "What is so hard about it, you are beautiful and everyone is checking out how sexy you are. If I stood there like that people would tell me to go home." He sounded jealous. "I guess I can't argue with that logic, Sir." in his own way that was a compliment and I would have to spend a little time to wrap my head around a scenario where Jerry would be standing in accounting dressed like a slut. I stood awkwardly behind him while he logged into his computer and grumbled about emails he was getting. "Don't they know the flash report of MTD financials comes out on Wednesday? I can't give this to them on Tuesday." A recurring theme seemed to be his growing frustration with people asking him questions that were clearly answered in his e-mail. "If they would just read my e-mails they would know THAT!" I was looking over his shoulder and I could see he sent a wall of text – button your lip Wendy. This is a good time to catch up on your journal. Try not to be so critical of Jerry – (it's so hard not to point out his obvious flaws). He wasn't really talking to me – so I just ignored him and stood behind him with my cell phone in my hand. He finally turned to me and asked "So what did you do with Steve all day?" "Did my husband not go over what you can make me do, Sir?" I answered quietly –very aware that Jerry's cube offers no privacy from his co-workers. Then again they probably tune out all his belly-aching and whining about how unfair life is and why don't people read his e-mails. "Yes he did, but I just thought maybe I would get your perspective" he sounded so weak and uncertain of why he asked that I was starting to feel sympathy for him instead of just disdain. I leaned in close, "He usually locks me in my office and fucks me hard in all my holes, and then ties me up at my desk about now." I let my whisper seductively work its way into Jerry's imagination and blew just a little bit into his ear. "But you wouldn't want to do that with me." Jerry wasn't asking – he was telling me. "It doesn't matter what I want. I am my husband's whore and he has loaned me to you to be under your supervision all day." I answered him anyway. He seemed to want a neon light to flash over my head saying "I am willing to pity fuck you Jerry". "So you will let me have sex with you in your office?" even his asking seemed like it was telling me that I probably shouldn't. "Yes Sir, you are the boss. I will fuck anyone you tell me too." I probably shouldn't have volunteered that last bit because the glimmer of hope in his eye went dim. "So you'd rather have sex with anyone else?" he asked – his jealousy and insecurity was showing and it wasn't pretty. "Who I'd rather fuck is irrelevant Sir." I made a point of saying 'fuck' because that was part of the training not to sugar coat it and call it 'having sex' or 'making whoopie' or any euphemism. I also made it a point to reiterate that my situation required obedience to my betters. "Why do you keep tugging on your boobs like that?" he asked me curiously. I didn't realize I had been and I looked down at my shirt. It was sheer and completely inappropriate for office work. At first, I assumed maybe the big hoop rings that were bulging out of the shirt were bugging me. Then I realized that the engorged, aching feeling I had in my boobs was coming from not having been 'milked' today and there were two wet spots about the size of a silver dollar over my nipples. You could see all of the little bumps on my areolas because the opaque material of the blouse had turned clear from the leaking milk. My face turned red and I leaned in closer than normal, "I started lactating recently and probably need to pump some of it out Sir." His face lit up "Can you do it in your office?" "Yes Sir, I suppose you'll supervise?" he followed me excitedly to the office without a second thought. He and I stood awkwardly in my office after I locked the door. I was waiting for him to instruct me and he seemed to be waiting for me to tell him what to do. I offered in the least condescending way possible, "Usually Steve has me strip and get on all fours and then squirt over a cup." I left out a lot of details about things he added to the experience to make it less pleasant. "Ok" is all he said. I felt frustrated with Jerry but at the same time I need to count my blessings and not be a glutton for punishment like Jamie can often be - pointing out all the ways they can use and abuse me. I slipped out of my shoes and began to undress while he stood there watching me. "You can have a seat if you like Sir." I smiled as I pulled my shirt over my head. I could feel my tits bounce and heave as I removed the skimpy blouse - the nipples were tender and a little bit of milk had already started to seep out. I got on all fours without making eye contact with him over a milk cup. I was starting to see the advantage of a more active dominant person because I felt incredibly stupid silently pulling on my nipples while he observed. It felt awkward and stupid – and without as much of the dynamic that someone who was telling me what to do brings to it. I squeezed thumb and forefinger around each nipple and gave them a tug and jerk like one might do to a cow's udders and then began the slow process of squirting tiny streams of my breast milk into a glass beneath me. "What happens to the milk?" "Sometimes he has me drink it." I left out the part where after he cums in my mouth and that he usually has me gargle with the cum and milk, rinse and repeat. If Bill hadn't shared all this with him – was it really my duty to teach him all this? "Can I drink it?" "Yes Sir, I don't mind at all. If you'll give me about ten minutes down here I will probably have a nice little glass full." Jerry had seen me naked several times but I didn't look at him because I think seeing him watch me milk myself would have only heightened my awareness of just how over-the-top humiliating this experience was. "No I mean, can I drink you know ... from the tap?" he said awkwardly. "You want to try to suckle my tits, Sir?" that was a new one. They had made Jamie do it to me and it actually felt pretty good (I am ashamed to admit). "Yes, do you mind?" "Sir, I am on all fours naked tugging my boobs like a cow while you watch," I needed to get my frustration with Jerry's passive repetitious questions under control, "No, I wouldn't mind. Do you want me to sit on your lap?" "Can I sit on yours?" Jerry probably weighs 260lbs and while I am pretty fit I was really shocked to hear him say that. I stopped squeezing myself and got in my Office Chair. I instantly imagined what Chris would say about 'snail trails' from my wet pussy, that surely would be left on the leather upholstery of my chair. Jerry crossed the room over to me, hiding what might have been a boner in his beige khakis – I'd like to add that these are the same pants he had on Thursday and Friday last week and I doubt he had washed them. I leaned back in my chair, "Okay, careful Sir" as he tried to arrange himself over my knee. I could see he was going for sort of a natural position. He didn't push all his weight on to my knee and instead used part of the chair and desk for support. "You feel warm." he smiled. I don't know what to say to that. "I guess I am hot blooded." I cupped my breast and offered it to him without holding his glance. "Can you take out this piercing?" he asked nicely. "I am not supposed to Sir, because the hole could heal up very quickly and I would get punished if I get home and couldn't get it back in." He accepted my answer and began to flit his tongue across the thick nub that was being squeezed by the piercings. "It seems like these piercings are smushing your breasts." he said while slicking them down with his wet saliva in the most disgusting way I could imagine him doing –with his mouth anyway. "Yes Sir, the way they are locked in, they pull my nipples up and out so that they are always erect." He tapped them with his finger playfully "Like little cocks" and then proceeded to put his mouth around it. I would have laughed at what Freud might have said about someone who said and done that but I just closed my eyes and pretended it was someone else. I felt a little guilty my mind didn't go immediately to Bill – but I guess that's what being a whore does to you. It wasn't long before he had perfected a technique of gripping the nipple with the edges of his teeth and applying enough suction and then releasing to start suckling the milk out. As he worked the tit in his mouth the other began to slowly drip and leak down my chest and so did my pussy. How humiliating it is to admit Jerry Cooper from accounting was giving me an orgasm? Then again being naked on leather with my legs spread apart and the pussy ring holding me open counted for a large part of that feeling. "Would you like to do the other breast too, sir?" I hinted that maybe he could put some attention on the far breast. He ignored me and kept slurping. "Would you like me to play with myself while you suckle my big tits, Sir?" I was trying to make it sound like he was ordering me to do it – but I won't kid you journal, I really wanted to play with myself and pull my right tit in conjunction with the attention he gave the left one. He didn't respond and when my fingers started to drift down my lap he actively took my hand and pulled it back with a muffled "nuh-uh" to let me know I couldn't. Jerry that bastard - I've spent two weeks being a slut, a whore and a slave but this is the first time I felt truly like a nymphomaniac who was doing this for her own wicked pleasures only. I had my arms around his jelly belly in an embrace as he continued to focus on the singular thing he was interested in – draining my left tit of all milk. I accidentally touched something plastic in his waist band. "Jerry? I mean Sir, is that what I think it is?" I whispered in his ear – In retrospect I want to say that I think I was more turned on by the denial to bring myself to orgasm than one might have actually given me. He became embarrassed and pulled my finger gently off his belt. "You can tell me, is it a diaper Jerry?" He stopped suckling and pulled back with a smack of his lips. "Yes that is a diaper but it is not what you think. It is so I can work longer without getting up from my cube." "You wear a diaper to work so you don't have to leave to go to the bathroom? Doesn't that start to stink after a while?" I began to wonder if I was treading on thin ice because Jerry's face started to take on a concerned look. "Okay Mommy, yes I like diaper fetishes. When I started working part time at the adult mega store I started to learn about all kinds of kink and one day while rewinding a VHS tape we rented I saw it –is that such a big deal?" "No sir, I won't judge you." I was smiling as I offered him my boob. If he could be motivated by this he would probably be a push over at work as my handler. I could probably let him play goo-goo-gaa-gaa fantasies and even get some of my work done for a change. I could also use the fact I knew about his dirty little secret as a way to hopefully motivate him to keep all of mine! "Jerry, Mommy wants you to wear just your diaper. Will you do that for mommy?" I spoke to him in baby talk. It felt ridiculous but he went for it like a bear to honey. "Yes Mommy" his voice became child-like and he quickly removed his shirt and pants revealing a very pink and blubbery but hairless body. I helped him put away his clothes and folded them for him. "Do you want to play with mommy's toys?" I offered him my purse and he pulled out a large red rubber butt plug. It was shaped like a small bowling pin except it progressively tapered off in a series of concentric rubber rings. "What is this mommy?" "It's a pacifier, would you like to sit on the floor and be a good boy. If you can play with your Toy quietly while mommy does her work, she will let you have a treat?" He was fully in-character at this point. Jerry sat on the floor in front of my desk and began to put this booty-plug in his mouth and play around with it. He was drooling down his chin and thumbing his finger in his mouth making airplane sounds. I didn't bother putting on clothes I just started to check my email and backlog of projects. I would have to be a miracle worker to pull off catching up on my workload after this training was over. This is one of the reasons I told myself I didn't like family vacations. A fact I now deeply regret – because this time in training has taught me so much about my family that I might have learned on a trip to Disneyworld. I made a mental note once we get out of the financial hole we are in to schedule a trip to my family's farm out in Indiana- a change will do us good. I noticed one of the e-mails had to do with travel arrangements for this weekend. My husband and I share a Travelocity account and he had cancelled our lodging and travel for this weekend. I remembered talking to him about an Internet discussion group that he belongs to that gets together periodically to meet face to face. I knew this was very important to him and it made me feel pretty bad that he had cancelled his trip. I will be very honest that had this arrangement not come up with us I would never have gone and neither would Jamie - our lives were too focused on our own thing. I don't know what Chris would have done but I doubt he would have wanted to go either. I am absolutely positive I would have forbid him to go if I were still the boss of the house. I let myself drift away in my imagination to relive just a few seconds of what it was like when I used to be the head-honcho around the house. I have to admit the power really was intoxicating. I didn't have a chance to start feeling guilty like I usually do when I go over all the stuff I would've done again and wouldn't have. There was a knock on my door. By now most everyone in my department who worked for me knew I wasn't taking their questions or meeting with them. "I am in a conference call, can you put some time on my calendar" I said in a voice that sounded like I had just put my call on mute. I had blocked off every hour of my day for the next two weeks just in case anyone tried to schedule a meeting. "No, I can't. I want to talk to you right now." Dammit – it was Vicky and she was not happy. "I am sorry, I am really bus" I was half-way through the sentence when the door started to jiggle as it unlocked. I was completely busted – there was no way I had time to dress. The door opened and Vicky strode in with Steve behind him. "Well, hello there Vicky," I smiled knowing I had been busted. "do you mind shutting the door?" Jerry reverted back to his regular curmudgeon persona – frankly I like the little kid version of Jerry. He seemed much more carefree and positive. He gathered his clothes like a crab digging in the sand. I didn't bother to try to dress because I knew that it wouldn't change anything. I sat up, crossed my knee and acted as if this were the most perfectly normal office meeting. "I think you have some explaining to do." Vicky was still dressed like a slut but her hands on her hip and attitude hadn't diminished any of her bitchy attitude. "About?" I rested my chin on my hands like I hadn't the foggiest notion what they were talking about. "Slut, I think you need to get out of that chair and get those plugs up that fat ass of yours when your betters are talking to you." Steve ordered me in his calm but certain voice. "I am sorry Sir, but my husband put Jerry in charge of me. He said I don't have to obey you anymore." "Jerry, let me be in charge of Wendy." Steve said matter-of-factly to Jerry. "Okay, that's fine" Jerry was climbing into his pants. Damn that Jerry! I've been Steve's slut for a week. It won't kill me to let him see me squirm around on the floor a little more. The part that was eating me up inside was Vicky's part in all this. I quickly ran through a dozen scenarios: - I contact Bill to ask if I didn't have to take orders from Steve and how bad the punishments would be if I refused. - I ran through a scenario where I begged and promised Bill that he could strip me of all my stars if I didn't have to do this in front of Vicky. - I briefly flirted with the idea of grabbing some clothes and just running for a boat and getting on it. "Yes Sir, of course you are right. That is where I belong." I heard myself say as I got off the chair and picked up the red rubber butt plug Jerry had been playing with and inserted it in my ass – without wiping off his slobber I might add. Jerry asked if he could go when he had his clothes back on but both Vicky and Steve forbid him and he just stayed seated in a chair off to the side watching. I slunk over to a big flesh-colored dildo and pushed it into my pussy and then took a position facing away from them on the floor – as Steve preferred. "Your slut is stuffed and spread Sir, may I gag myself?" "Nice try slut, how about you tell us what you tried to pull on us?" Vicky's voice was full of vinegar. "I didn't try to pull anything on STEVE." I clarified that my target had been Vicky. There was no point in continuing to play coy. "I admit I was probably a stinker for telling you NOT to ask him to be your handler, knowing that is exactly what you would rush right out and do. I knew I would be given to Jerry today so I was just lining up a replacement for Steve because he was so good to me." "Likely story" Steve reached out and smacked my ass cheeks extra hard. Then he nudged me forward, "Clean those snail trails off that chair. You know better than to sit that naked ass cheese on a chair." I moved forward slowly and licked my chair while Vicky lambasted me about her morning. I wasn't the least bit sympathetic. Steve had actually been fairly light on her – he tied her up and fucked her in her office while shifting his office work to her and taking credit for her projects by subtly adding his name to the work. "So tell me the truth Vicky – had Steve not tried to be so obvious about getting credit for your work, you probably would have let him keep fucking you hard, wouldn't you?" "Shut up whore" the shoe that kicked me in the ass was definitely a high heel and hers. I said nothing and then she kicked me again "Well?" "You ordered me to shut up, Ma'am." I explained trying to keep the snark off my face. I was in deep and I don't mean deep doo-doo like a Jamie poop - I mean deep doo-doo like one of my big old lawn turds. I was already surging with the fear-induced adrenalin of concentrated humiliation that felt worse than the first time Mrs. Waxerman caught wind of our shenanigans. Was the best medicine to just roll with it and try to have fun with it? Could I do that without Chris's wise cracks, Jamie's support and Bill's serious straight face? I knew she wanted me to talk and talk I did. I explained how I had noticed Vicky slowly experimenting with the way I was dressing and acting and it amused me. "It had been my luck to run into you when I was in the book store getting fucked by a bunch of guys. I decided to lay out the cheese and let you come to Steve and beg to have him treat you like this." Even with my butt to her I could sense her rage radiating from her as she realized that she had walked right into it. "Would you like to spank me, ma'am?" I wiggled my ass for her. There wasn't anything her arm could dish out that I couldn't take after the daily beatings I had received. I felt the act of pretending I was looking forward to it was only going to take some of the wind out of her sails. She came around the side of me and pulled my hands forward while slapping my cuffs around my wrist and wrapping the chain around the base of the chair. I could feel Wendy pinch my pussy lips and tug them hard – before letting them go like a sling shot. I would have to get used to this torment – but then there was a sudden reprieve as everyone became quiet. The phone on my desk rang and Steve answered it. He spoke briefly and I distinctly heard him joke that I was a 'little tied up at the moment'. I then heard him answer, "Yes sir, I'll put it on speaker right now so you can talk to her." He hadn't let me talk to the last person – so whoever this was they had to be important enough to interrupt their twisted revenge games. The voice on the speaker phone was the CEO "Wendy Taylor, are you there?" I quickly answered in the most professional sounding manner that I could muster. "The quality of work you've been turning in with some young executive Steve Something-or-other, it's been abysmal. I was just in an investor meeting and it was as if a simpleton had put it together." Steve was handsome, he had swagger and confidence and looked great in a suit – but he wasn't particular good at business analysis. I knew it was a mistake letting him turn in work and put my name on it. There was another long pause and finally I heard our CEO's voice say angrily, "Wendy, I've been happy with your performance over the years and had actually been considering giving you the Bitterman account. But your recent behavior is totally unacceptable. As much as I hate to do this, I cannot allow you to be employed here any longer." The phone went dead at that point and there was another long pause as what I had heard sank in. I had just been fired. No advance notice, no warning, just summarily dismissed after years of faithful service. I could hear Steve and Vicky chuckling – had she put him up to turning in work with my name on it? Had they both played me all along? Maybe I was supposed to just think that Vicky had been copying me all week and that she went to Steve this morning and asked him to be her handler. They could have been in collusion from the very start to take me down! Could I just be paranoid? Or did they seem like they had been working as a team from the very start? If so – then Vicky well played – well played. When Steve hung up the phone, I looked at the chains binding me to the chair and dejectedly added, "You know you don't have to bind me Sir. If you order me to hold my position I will stay spread and ready for you." "That's good to know that you are such a loyal slut, shake your ass for me." I couldn't understand why I wasn't crying right now. I had just lost my job and the sole source of income for the family. I wasn't even thinking about the repercussions of that fact yet. I did a little wiggle and a little waggle thinking I was doing it for Steve and Vicky. That is until I heard the first nervous giggling that wasn't Jerry. I don't know how they opened my door without me hearing but when I finally turned my head to look behind me there was standing room only in my office as I scanned about a dozen people holding their cell phone cameras recording my performance. If I hadn't just been fired – I would have been super-fired for this little scene. I would have been so thankful for the super power to teleport, turn invisible or just pass out on command. I'd wake up at some time in the future when this horrible waking nightmare was no longer happening. I could tell from their open laughter that I had not been successful in hiding the shocked double-take I did when I realized they were there. I literally felt my asshole pucker around the buttplug as my sphincter tightened around it in a vice like grip. I wanted to say "You know I love an audience, who would like to fuck me first?" and smoothly begin to gyrate but I began to panic and struggle - Vicky's laugh was the loudest over them all. "I am looking forward to having your office. You want us to untie you before security gets here or are you looking forward to a sexy cavity search?" Vicky's tone was beyond anything even that little witch Delilah could have summoned up - It was like a wave of liquid scorn washing over me like a painful acid wash. "Please yes, I would like very much to be untied Ma'am," I stammered. My jaw had started to hurt as my teeth began to involuntarily chatter. I maintained the protocol while she uncuffed me and gave my butt a hard spank. "That must be jam, because jelly doesn't shake like that." I could distinctly hear her tell people to erase that part off their cell phones as I dashed out of my former office clutching my clothes and shoes. I am probably one of the few people to ever actually jaunt naked through the cubicles at their office – although I am sure a lot of people have had that dream. Let me tell you the reality is a lot worse than the dream – especially if you have big fat milky tits bouncing up and down as you try like hell to find some place to hide. I probably won't do justice to the dodging and weaving between cubicles and filing cabinets as I fled my former co-workers. I don't know why I didn't just calmly walk out – they already seen me in the most humiliating ways. All I can say is in the moment the adrenalin of the situation prompted something primal in the fight-or-flight wiring of my brain and it was flight all the way. I made it to the elevator without a second thought for snow globes, and personal affects, certificates of accomplishment or even my final paycheck – I was done with this place. Bill could roast me like a chestnut over an open fire before I set foot back here again. The knowledge that I would probably never see these people again actually gave me a little bit of a respite from the waves of humiliation wafting over me. I don't know if it was endorphins giving me a false euphoric feeling of release or real but I simply stood in the elevator waiting for one of the doors to open. I hadn't even removed the red butt plug or dildo that I had clenched in my holes all the way to the elevator. I just stood there like a naked fool as I remembered the years I spent carving out a career, building respect and how in the span of a few minutes I had just shit that out like two big donkey-sized turds on my lawn. I was reaching behind me to pull the plug out of my ass when the elevator door opened. Karma can be a real bitch. It was Mr. Bitterman one of the wealthiest clients that my firm handles – he must have just been leaving that big investor meeting the CEO was talking about. I've only ever seen him once before at a meeting a year ago. The account handling his business is one that Vicky and I have both desired for years as it comes with a great deal of prestige and the possibility of promotion within the company. "Okay, I appear to be on the wrong floor," He shook his head in disbelief when he saw me standing there in my birthday suit. He seemed like a down to earth old man wearing a very ill-fitting suit. He smiled and held the door for me "Going down?" I took my hand away from my ass and started to explain but no words were coming out. I could hear the throng of office workers closing in on my position – no doubt with cell phone cameras waving around to catch a glimpse of the crazy lady who just lost her mind and ran through the office naked. I stepped into the elevator with him and he closed the door. "Do you mind putting on your clothes before we get to the bottom?" he held the elevator in position. "Yes Sir, but I should probably remove some things first." I sounded pathetic as the latex flesh-colored dong slipped out of my pussy and hit the floor making a sloshy-ker-thudd sound. I smiled at him apologetically. "I assume there is some colorful story behind all this?" he seemed bemused by my state. I felt really bad about pulling the butt plug from my ass, especially because once it's all the way out it really looks huge. It also had just a smidge of brown on it from my rear-axle grease if you know what I mean and I think you do. I quickly put the clothes and shoes on and held on to the dildo and butt plug. I tried to fix my hair and get presentable while I told him, "You ever have one of THOSE days, Sir?" "No, I can't say I've had one of THESE days, but I thank you for giving me something memorable for once in the seventeen years I've been coming to this place." He chuckled. "Could I trouble you for a ride home? I am afraid that the person I carpooled with today probably isn't going to give me a lift home." He had a kind face and he laughed, "Sure if you don't mind riding in a pickup truck." "I ride in the back of one all the time." I smiled reassuringly as the elevator at the bottom opened. "Then you'll love this, you can ride up front with me. I even have air conditioning and everything." he was smiling and being affable with me. The security guard walked towards me but noticing Mr. Bitterman he stepped back. "It's quite alright, the girl is with me." "Oh yes Mr. Bitterman but," the security guard started to offer protest but was cut off. "Son, you are just a rent-a-cop, don't try and detain me or you'll find yourself on the way out like this young lady. She has asked me to escort her home and that is what I intend to do. Do we have a problem?" he was a simple man but one accustomed to getting what he wanted. His old white truck was in the very first parking space when you exit the main lobby of our building. I have to admit I almost got in the back of the truck out of habit. I held on to the two toys and gave him directions to my house. "I am afraid I don't have a GPS or anything like that, so you'll have to give me directions on the way." He seemed amused with the fact that I didn't expect him to travel this way. "With a name like Bitterman, people think you talk with an English accent and drive around in a rolls Royce trying to put Grey Poupon mustard on everything." He joked as he worked the clutch and manually shifted gears. "I don't need any of those things. I prefer the simple country life. This truck gets me where I want to go. It aint pretty to look at but it's reliable." I said nothing and nodded except to give him the occasional direction. "I don't suppose you are ever gonna tell me why you were in your birthday suit back there are you?" he finally asked the question I knew he had to be wondering. "You are just such a nice man, and my story is so complicated that I don't think you would ever understand it, Sir." "Try me." He pulled over at a coffee shop – not a Starbucks but one of those old timey ones that sell a 'cup of joe' and a donut. The guy behind the counter recognized him and we sat a table. "Where to start Sir?" "Well first, even my trust fund grandchildren can't call me Sir, so you call me Walt." I didn't argue with that. He had my respect in so many ways that the tone I used alone would be obvious I meant "Sir" when I said "Walt". That was when I first began to outline this entire story. I described how I had tried to introduce the "Taylor Women's declaration of Independence" because my husband and son were lazy and needed prodding to do anything around the house. He was a great listener – stopping only to offer that his trust fund grandchildren sound an awful lot like that too. I told him about how Chris and Bill had thrown a hissy and ended up leaving for a while. When they came back life had handed them a reality check. They came home in the pouring rain like a metaphor of their miserable experience and what was probably an innocent misunderstanding led to them thinking when I said there would be changes that they needed to strip. "You probably told them to strip out of those wet clothes, and they thought you meant strip it all off." He had heard how Bill had been caught red-handed with the pictures of Jamie's friends and said he could see how that might of happened. "If it was an accident, I could have stopped it right then and told them to put on clothes. Instead, I started to lay down the rules and get bossy in order to try to get them to lose weight and work harder around the house. I started out with the best of intentions." "Don't we all" he mused. "I was disgusted with how they were and felt this was like tough love. I have to admit I started to slowly escalate and get off on the power and control over their lives." "I've been a CEO for a long time, Darling. It gets old after a while, but that is a long while coming." Everything he said sounding like a page out of an advice book. I told him how I recruited Jamie to help me. "From what you told me about her, she sounds like a mini-version of you. It makes sense that you wanted her help. She was re-affirming the things you were doing were making sense and she was sort of your co-conspirator in this." "Partners in crime." I used a description of our relationship from the past. We sipped coffee through my description of my power trip on the guys. He didn't flinch when I told him I laughed at their naked bellies flapping when I made them do exercises and I tied their cocks together. "You were removing their power as men by desexualizing them. A virile man who is full of testosterone wants to dominate and control – you were making them docile by making them masturbate frequently and humbling them." It was effortless to describe it all – He seemed to like the story about Cathy Griffin and pressed me for details. "It sounds like that was a real turning point for Chris. He slept-walked through most of this ordeal, until his sister abandoned him with Cathy and made him run around all day." Mr. Bitterman sounded very sure of himself – but then he always did. I hadn't thought about it quite like that but he was right. Things became far more kinky after that day. Later that night when Cathy dropped off Chris, she saw the pictures Bill had taken of her friends on our computer. I had been making Bill masturbate to them to shame him. "Naturally, you were basically castrating his manhood in a metaphorical fashion." I really was a bitch, huh? I explained how Cathy thought that we had intended to blackmail her with those pictures and in a blind panic ran to her older brothers to plot some things of their own. I have to admit while I told the story and reflected on it – it took my mind off all the events of the day. I had just flushed a lucrative career and my chances of getting another job like it. In my final act of total hubris I threw a party for teenagers where I knew there would be alcohol. I wouldn't have even done it if not for the fact I wanted to make Chris and Bill humiliated by bartending in speedo bikinis. I was a teenager myself and had done some drinking at parties like that – I knew it was sort of a rite of passage into adulthood. "I was able to justify having Bill spend money to buy booze and throw the party just to humiliate my husband." Walt withheld judgment and sipped his coffee. I warned him this was a long story and he told me it was the highlight of his week and to please continue. I don't know why I felt it was any of his business but it was nice to have an ear to tell my story to someone who seemed to enjoy all the nuances and enjoyed listening to it. I told him how Cathy and her brothers had engineered it so my daughter would wreck my convertible and then be on hand to trick her into walking away without reporting the accident. They held the note on my mortgage and tried to blackmail us both. "It sounds like they didn't have too," he smiled at me knowingly. "You wanted to be stopped. A part of you felt so guilty about what you were doing you wanted to be punished for it." It was like he was reading my mind because I explained that Jamie and I agreed to be good sports and give the guys payback. We put on some skimpy bathing suits and passed out beers at the party of our own freewill. The next day Bill sat down and got organized for the first time in a long time. He put together "Bill's Bill" a collection of rules and beliefs and laid them out for us. I explained about the 100 stars we had to earn and how because we liked to exercise and be fit that the challenges weren't going to mirror the same goals we gave them. "It makes sense, and you and your daughter don't value what men like, so jiggling boobs and butts probably didn't turn you on the way they do a man." I nodded in agreement and explained how skeptical and unsure we were. "Of course you were, you are the type of person who over analyzes everything and slices and dices every which-a-way. Bill knew you pretty well because he included measurable goals and consequences for poor performance." In a matter of seconds he had summed me up pretty well. I told him how Bill had been the breadwinner initially while I worked my way through college. "Then you said hey if I can just get my career started I will have time to sit back and deal with family stuff later – before you knew it you had two kids and an active career and you were so wrapped up in climbing the ladder you didn't stop." "Is that what you did, Walt?" he appeared to have a perfect vision of how I was balancing being 'super mom' and career woman. "Oh no, I made my money the old fashioned way - I inherited it." he laughed as he took another drink of coffee. I told him about how Bill had found someone to watch over me at work and I was quite sure that Mr. Bitterman wanted details there. I was going to take the high road and leave Steve and Vicky out of this but I couldn't resist mentioning their part in my humiliation. I told him my theory that Vicky and Steve might have been working at this together from the very start. There was a time when Vicky just 'happened' to be in the shower when I was there and then she just happened to be shopping at the book store when I was there – but how would Steve have known I'd be at the book store? I would have to puzzle on that for some time to come. Mr. Bitterman considered what I told him and said "Well if that were true – she really committed to it. I think I saw the young lady you are talking about trying to get me to look at some of the work she had been doing as a proposal on diversifying my account. I couldn't take my eyes off the piercings poking through her shirt. I just assumed this was a new fad at your office when I saw yours." He laughed. I hate feeling paranoid and the question of just when or if Steve and Vicky had a partnership is going to bug me for a while. I like stories where the author tells you exactly what happened and doesn't make you use your imagination to fill in the blanks. Bill had wanted me to watch the TV series Lost with him about a year ago. I ended up buying the series for him to watch by himself because I just didn't want to wait for them to fill in the blanks later and they like to make their audience gather clues and circle back to answer a question they raised at the start of the series in a future season. I continued my story for Mr. Bitterman hitting the highlights about going back to the motel and hooking and how things had just gotten out of hand so fast. "You hadn't established any limits to the relationship and you both were playing it by the seats of your pants. I bet Bill was just surprised that you were willing to do anything you could to make it up to him – but I wouldn't be. You are that type of woman." He seemed very interested in Mrs. Waxerman and joked, "Sounds like an interesting woman." I told him about the crazy night at the county fair and how we had grown to know each other so much better. "You were seeing things you wanted to see in Bill and Chris all along. You were pleased he was taking charge, getting organized but more importantly that he exuded confidence and was making rational decisions. You wanted to see more of that." I told him that the tattoos were probably a sign that both Jamie and I may have on a subconscious level wanted that. "I don't know Jamie, but I am guessing her reason was a little different than yours. I think she was still learning who she was and was afraid she could only be defined as a goody-two-shoes who only ever did cheerleading and all the stuff people expect a girl like her to do. I think she also just wanted to finally bond with you in a way that would last forever." That was so sweet I could barely talk after that. He had hit the nail on the head. I told him that as crazy as it sounds, that we have learned so much about each other and how we all felt we had missed out on vacations and trips together as a family. "You should take a vacation together!" he said emphatically. "Things are tough right now, Walt." I went into the shopping sprees and my cowardice about bringing up to Bill all the money that we needed to have. I could tell he was getting a little guarded as if I was going to hit him up for money - I reassured him that wasn't my intention. "Miss, if I thought you stood naked in that elevator lobby on the off-chance I opened the door in order to come with me to give me a sob story to sucker money out of me I would never have let you in my truck." He grinned. I skipped a lot of the details about all of the training but we kept coming back to Bill's internet user's group meeting this weekend. "If I were a betting man, and I am – I would bet that you are going to go to that thing with him and you just haven't convinced him yet that he needs to take you as a family." "Yeah but if we go with him – it is going to be as his slaves because we haven't earned the 100 stars." "I am going to only say this one time and I want you to listen to me very carefully." He spoke with a slow southern charm of a man who had learned about as much as a man could learn about life and eagerly looked forward to each day to learn a little bit more. He had me on the edge of my seat. "You have earned your one hundred stars, darling." I didn't understand him and he could tell from the look on my face I was going to point out I was trailing my daughter. "The things you have done – the experiences you have shared have impressed Bill and Chris. They know you love them and they know you have endured this for them. They also know that a part of you wants this very strange relationship with them to continue." I was going to tell him that my daughter probably didn't. He hushed me. "I am a shrewd judge of character. If I had met you a few months ago I would not let you go anywhere near my account. The woman at this coffee table – I would be proud to let you manage my account because you have learned what is important in life and you are willing to give a little to get a lot. You sacrifice for others, but you aren't stupid about it – they better be worth it." He was making me tear up. I swear that man should write for lifetime movies because I don't know a woman who could have listened to him talk and not feel a little maternal stir in her heart. "Your daughter is in this until you finish it – just like your deal with Bill to leave you in it until you finish it? It is as obvious to me as the smile on your face that your daughter's apple didn't fall too far from your lovely tree. I don't know why you would have a hard time figuring it out. If you were willing to stay until it's all done – she would be too." "Yeah but didn't you say we already earn our one hundred stars?" I didn't know what he meant by that. He laughed, "This is all extra credit. You paid those fellas back and gave them more than they ever gave you. I am not going to tell you what to do. You are going to go home and think about what I've told you and I think you are going to come to understand what I am talking about." He didn't say another word about it or ask me another question until we left the diner and were almost home. "So you don't think what I was doing was perverted?" "Oh darling, it's deeply perverted." I was shocked. He had been so accepting and calm when I told him about all the blowjobs and bondage. "Whoever said being perverted was bad though?" He pulled up to my drive way and as I stepped out of the truck I turned back to ask him if he wanted to take me inside to explain what happened but he drove off without another word. I would have to spend a lot of time thinking about all the advice he gave me – some of it I wish I had written down when he said it because even as I journal it now I didn't capture it all. One little thing had been bothering me all the way home and I finally got a chance to clean off that little smidge of brown pudding on the side of my butt plug now that Walt was out of sight. I sighed and collected my nerves. I was going to have to face Bill and Chris and explain our only income was gone now that I was fired. They were definitely going to punish the shit out of me. Why was I smiling? ------- Chapter 16: Rare treats like a marshmallow you find in your lucky charms STAR COUNT: WENDY: 51 Get out of jail cards: 1 WHORE: 5,3,0,0,1 JAMIE: 60 Get out of jail cards: 1 WHORE: 4,3,0,0,0 *Note to reader: The story returns to the original narrative voice. Bill has picked Jamie up from school and brought her home. He put her outside in the back yard chained up with Rosco and it is now about 3pm on Monday. "RUFF!" Jamie barked excitedly and panted while wagging her tail. She was naked on all fours with a heavy chain on her collar in the backyard. She had a butt plug in her ass and she was wiggling it playfully. The Waxerman boys were tossing pebbles over the fence at Jamie – teasing her and asking questions. They did not know she wasn't allowed to do anything but bark. "Hey when you get done playing doggy can you come over to our house again?" they asked excitedly. Jamie panted and wagged her tail excitedly holding her tongue out like a dumb mutt but didn't bark. She couldn't promise them and it seemed unlikely her father was taking her any place. The Waxerman boys had been out there for the last thirty minutes or so. They were too shy to actually come in her backyard even though they knew her now – but they had progressed to popping their heads over the fence to talk to her. Rosco for his part acted just like Jamie was. He'd come up and give her a sloppy kiss on the face and wag his tail and run around on the chain. He liked the attention and company of her being outside with him. She had to admit the prospect of spending long hours outside alone with no one to talk to her was already sinking in. There had been several long hours when it was just her and Rosco and she was alone with nothing but her thoughts. Her palms and knees were already starting to hurt from crawling around and she was wondering when her dad was going to come and give her a little stretch and bathroom break. He had said nothing about it. The other thing on her mind was how to earn stars now? If her dad was going to keep her in the backyard alone – how could she earn stars? They mostly got them through dares, competitions and none of that would happen when no one was around but Rosco. At the rate she was earning she thought she would be done by this weekend but the suspension was for a full two weeks. Her dad had made it clear in no uncertain terms that even if she earns her stars that she was to report for doggy duty during school hours until the suspension was lifted. She was trying to keep her mind off thinking about all of that by acting like an energetic puppy - yipping around the yard for the Waxerman boys. The sliding glass door opened and she turned excitedly to see who it was. She was mid-tail waggle and tongue pant when three familiar figures stalked out with her father. "These boy's say you promised to suck their dick, is that right?" Bill had his hands on his hips like he was disappointed as he stood next to Dave, Noah and Thad the football players. "RUFF!" she answered playfully. She could tell by the look on their faces they were thinking "What is this shit?" "You can use English." Bill remained completely stone-face despite the completely surreal idea that he was letting three strange football players into his backyard to talk to his naked daughter about whether she owed them a blowjob or not. "Yes Sir, I promised them when you and Chris took me to the locker room at the game on Friday." Jamie reminded her father diligently showing only a slight hint of humiliation under their harsh gaze. "Yes, and I recall driving your ass to a party so you could deliver on that promise and am I to understand you failed to do so?" "Yes Sir, but" Bill popped a rolled up newspaper across his daughters nose to shut her up. The Waxerman boy's giggled in the background. Bill yelled at them to get out of there and told her, "Stop encouraging those boys to watch you play around the yard, slut - this is supposed to be punishment." Then he told her to tell him why she hadn't fulfilled her obligation. "I am sorry Sir, I tried too but they got too drunk and passed out before I could do it." Jamie told the truth picturing the tangled bodies of the three football players laying naked on each other near another cheerleader who had probably had sex with all three of them. "Then am I to understand you got them in trouble today by getting them caught in the bathroom with you?" "Chris and Cathy ordered me to go with them, Sir." Jamie pleaded sounding apologetic. "Oh here come the waterworks, fellas. She never does wrong – it's always someone else's fault." Bill was being critical of his daughter and the only one of the football players who seemed to be egging him on was Dave Stravosky. The other two had gone from a mildly amused 'wtf' to showing a little sympathy for Jamie's situation. "Don't feel bad for her guys. Jamie wanted to be out here didn't you? You agreed to live like a dog for your entire suspension." Jamie knew now wasn't the time to clarify if in the evening she could come inside and earn stars with her mom. "Yes Sir, I volunteered for this." "Tell them why that is, ass face?" "I am a whore, and a slut. I could be closely supervised at school but now that I am home every day, that is going to cut in your alone time, and it's only fair that I spend it outside out of your way." Bill asked "Anything else?" "Yes Sir, I am a slut puppy because it amuses you to see me drag my tits across the lawn, and wiggle my tail for you." "Good girl, you are getting it," Bill patted her on the top of the head and asked, "Is there anything else you want to ask these gentlemen now that they are here?" "May I please finish sucking your dicks, Sirs?" "How about letting us fuck that sweet, sweet punani?" Noah asked with an intense expression on his face to underscore his desire. "You guys got twenty bucks each?" "Yeah dude, my dad owns a dealership." Thad replied dismissively. "You can each fuck her in the ass. Tell you what, I'll give you a deal since you had so many problems getting the whore to service you with her mouth. You can all three bang her backdoor for fifty bucks." "What? How about forty." Dave haggled on behalf of the guys. Jamie could say nothing – just look up in wonder at her father's callousness and the guys' obvious lack of concern for her worth. She said nothing – and just squinted up at the guys in the afternoon sun. Bill laughed and told them they drove a hard bargain but accepted forty dollars from them. "Thank the nice gentlemen. I am going inside to play a little Star Wars: The Old Republic." "Thank you Sirs for paying to fuck my asshole" Jamie realized she could at least earn stars from getting visitors in the backyard. That was at least something to keep her smiling. "So how do we do this? We have to do it back here? No bed." Dave called to Bill as if he had just been ripped off. "There is a lawn chair." Bill was already walking inside the house –paying no attention. Jamie felt humiliated on a brand new level, but also abandoned. It wasn't that she wanted her father to stand there and watch her get plowed from behind – but at the same time, the fact that he didn't care to even watch made her feel less valuable on some level. She had empathized with her mother the night before when she was standing in the living room being ignored but now she knew exactly how her mom had felt. "Okay you twisted cunt, you let your dad pimp you out- should we be using condoms on you?" Dave sneered. "I believe there are some condoms inside if you want Sir, it's completely up to you." Jamie was still wrestling with the pros and cons of her father wanting to stay out there and watch or not – which of those would have been worse? She asked herself. "Shall I remove my tail?" she asked sweetly. "No, we were planning to fuck you with it in," Dave answered angrily, "there better not be shit all over it." She plucked it from her ass with an embarrassing 'quoop' sound and put it in her mouth to clean it without being told. The guys giggled. She pulled herself forward and began to unbuckle Dave first. "No, do Thad first" he commanded and without thinking she went to Thad and unbuckled him, still holding the end of the plug in her mouth. She pulled out his semi-hard dick and spit the plug onto the grass. She took him in her wet mouth to get him fully hard. Jamie was beautifully erotic even as forced and disgusting as this backyard sex was. The Waxerman boys had returned to the fence and were sneaking a peek. "You like this you twisted slut?" Dave asked but Jamie's mouth was already stuffed full of cock so she could only nod. She remained on her knees while holding out her hands to signal that she could unbuckle the other two. Noah obliged by moving himself to her right hand but Dave went behind her. "God, I thought it would look like a pit back here, but you've got a tight pink butthole." Jamie almost laughed at the thought this was the closest Dave would ever come to complimenting her. She maintained her composure and used both hands to pull Noah's dick out and begin pulling it. "You guys are total fags to get your dicks so close to each other." Dave challenged his friends who were easily a foot apart at the time. Noah said blithely, "Nah, I think it's only gay if you cross swords" Dave plunged his unlubricated cock into Jamie's asshole without warning. Had she not been training with butt plugs she would have screamed at the friction-pain of his forced entry into her backdoor. "This is how you do it, you Gaylords!" Dave said while mounting Jamie from behind and thrusting hard into her ass. He was holding her hips with both hands and picking her up off the ground. "The only thing that makes this hard is I have to look at you two homos." "So don't" Thad was enjoying the cock sucking he was getting and Jamie expertly switched to warm up Noah's pecker with her saliva and give it a tongue washing while she jerked off Thad at the same pace. Thad was stroking Jamie's golden blonde hair. "For a slut, she sure is pretty in the face." of all the abusive things Dave had said to her, the reverse compliment from Noah felt like an unexpected punch to her stomach. There was something about how he made the distinction that she wasn't pretty because she was also a slut, that managed to wound her ego in a new way. Dave was cumming aggressively in her ass, jerking her back and forth and interrupting her ability to give good head at a medium pace to his friends. He began to row her body back and forth like it was a weight machine in the gym. "Grrrrr ... Grrrrrr ... Grrrr, I am cumming." He shouted and he pulled out. Jamie didn't feel the hot juices of cum sliding out of her asshole. At first she thought that it must be packed deep inside of her as a surprise to 'drain out' later but then she began to suspect he hadn't actually cum. That's because he forced his friends to get behind her as he came around front completely hard. "You need to wash the shit off my dick, sweet heart." "Yes Sir." Jamie took his engorged cock in her mouth. It was pink from having been squeezed into her tight shit-hole but it wasn't really dirty. "Does my cock disgust you?" Dave asked as he guided it by the base into her mouth. Noah was behind her trying to mount her ass from behind the same way Dave had, while Thad stood next to him maintaining his erection by slowly jacking his cock. "Yes Sir, it disgusts me, but I am not supposed to enjoy this." Jamie said around the cock as she lubricated it for the first time. She could taste the skin-friction that had been created from Dave jamming it into her dry asshole. "Then why do you do this?" "There are several reasons Sir. If I were doing what I like, it would just be free-will, and I am submitting," Dave didn't seem to understand so she added, "also because I am a whore and our family needs money." which satisfied Dave as he shook his head knowingly. He held out his hand for a high five from Thad who was having trouble getting Jamie's ass apart. Thad gave Dave an 'up-top high five'. "Can I just stick it in your pussy? It's nice and wet and inviting?" Thad asked as he rubbed the tip of his cock up and down Jamie's pink slit. "Nooo, please Sir." Jamie even moved forward to pull off Thad's dick. "God, for a whore you sure are particular. I thought you said you were doing this because you don't enjoy it. If that's not something you enjoy then what is the fucking problem?" Thad was confused. Jamie felt she probably couldn't explain in a way that made sense why she had saved herself – and at the moment she felt pretty silly about having done so. She just knew how anti-climactic it would be if her first time was Thad. "Dude, just stick it in the butt. It's way better than pussy any day." Dave offered his friend as if that should be obvious. The sliding glass door slid open to the backyard and Dave yelled "Hey, we aren't done yet." Jamie didn't even look. At least her father was checking on her she thought – that was something to take solace in. That is why it was a big shot to her pride that the voice she heard wasn't his. It was Cathy Griffin, "Oh look, what do we have out here?" an unmistakable sly smile in her voice. "Get out of here you skank, I don't want you watching me bone this girl." Dave demanded. "Relax her Daddy said we could come out here and cheer you on." Jamie hadn't even bothered to look over – she kept her mind on the ass reaming she was getting and sucking Dave's dick. That was until she heard "We" but hadn't heard another voice. Was it the entire cheer leader squad come to say goodbye? All her teachers come to see the whore-pig she had become? It was worse. Way worse. It was that hunky college guy Bradley Jenkins. His mouth hung open as he surveyed the backyard gang-bang. "MISTRESS!" Jamie was infuriated that Cathy had brought him over. "Even your anger is cute." Cathy giggled at how Jamie's anger seemed controlled and polite by comparison. Jamie knew she was right. If she had really been angry she would have said "Cathy!" and forced the guys off of her and confronted her. This was the most rage she knew how to express at the moment. Why had Cathy brought the one guy over that she really liked? There could be only one answer: To absolutely hurt her in a way that she had not been hurt before – to wound her so low and to break her spirit in such a way that Jamie could not recover. There could be no other answer as far as Jamie was concerned. Her anger simmered over the boiling point but she felt the other guys holding her down and she stayed in position. "That was really un-cool!" was all she could say before Dave thrust his dick down her throat. "I am out of here." Bradley turned on his heel and left without looking back. "Where are the ribbons and lace? I thought as a Doggie they would really decorate you up, but you are just out here sweating naked in a dog collar? Bo-ring" Cathy's laughter had no further effect on Jamie. She was so angry that everything else she said from that point seemed irrelevant. "Taylor's, you have come so far in such a short time but you let me down on creativity points on this one. I'll have to talk to Chris about some changes." Cathy shook her head in disgust. Bill walked out shortly after, "Everything okay out here? You guys about finished fucking my daughter?" even Bill felt a little guilty about hearing it said like that. He did not wait for an answer he just walked back inside. Cathy stood and watched the entire scene as Thad and then Noah mounted her ass and came while Dave tried to "Teabag" Jamie's forehead with his balls. Cathy had a look on her face like she was not impressed but that she was slightly amused. The guys were done with her now. Dave pulled out his erect cock from Jamie's mouth and wiped it on her hair when Noah finished getting his nut. "Oh you guys don't want to go just yet, you'll miss the best part." Cathy smiled paying attention in particular to Dave's still erect cock and giving him a knowing glance. "What's that?" Dave said sarcastically. "Squat over that dog dish and let's see what the boy's deposited in your backdoor." Cathy ordered and Jamie complied. She squatted over the dog dish to the titters and laughter of the football players and the Waxerman boys. "Seems you had an unexpected audience." Cathy regarded the three heads popping over the fence with an annoyed but amused tone. "They remind me of my own brothers at that age." She laughed. Jamie had dripped out only a little cum from her ass. "Turn around and face your tits over it, I bet they fucked you so hard some of that white stuff will come out of your tits won't it?" Cathy ordered the girl to milk herself over her dog dish. Jamie didn't argue – she did exactly as she was told and her nipples felt a tiny bit less sore when she was able to squirt into her dog dish. She had gone through the five stages of grief in the last few minutes. Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression over the fact that the one guy she really liked now saw her as a gross, twisted whore. There was only the acceptance stage left and she would be grateful when it finally kicked in because depression was sucking most of all. "Is that a tear in your eye, Ass-face?" "No Mistress?" Jamie answered sullenly. "If it was, I'd say drop that in the bowl too. You know what to do – dip your nose and lap it up." Jamie wondered if her and Delilah compared notes or they were simply both cut from the same cloth. She nodded understanding and dipped herself low over the cum in the stainless steel bowl bringing her nose to rest on top of it. She flicked out her tongue revealing the studded ring in the sunlight and waited. "Go ahead and lap it up." Cathy ordered and Jamie complied – a tear actually falling from her eyes. It wasn't this humiliating experience. She had done something like it several times. It was the idea that she was such a 'beautiful whore' and that was all she would be seen as to a great guy like Brad. "Gross, look at that sopping wet pussy!" Dave tried to add to the girl's humiliation but the other guys didn't join in approvingly. The Waxerman boys giggled and that was good enough for Dave. "They get it!" he called out to the boys popping their heads over the wooden fence. "Have you guys fucked her mom yet?" Cathy asked excitedly of the football players – pointing out she was also available for rental. "No way, I fucking love this weird shit." Dave stamped his foot on Jamie's ass while she was bent over pushing her face into the dog bowl. "You know Dave, if you like this, I've got to introduce you to Hope Miller's family – her daddy is my cuckold." "What is a cuckold?" Dave said the words with disgust. "Oh you will love it." she offered her arm to escort him from the backyard –and his friends followed behind. This left Jamie to cry alone in her dog bowl with no one but Rosco to watch. The dog was oblivious to what just happened, still in a positive mood it licked her cheek as she remained on her knees. "Rosco I wish I could be happy and positive all the time like you. You wanna trade lives? What am I saying, I think we just did." She joked as she reached out to pet him on his head and cheer herself up. She rose but didn't stand up and began to collect herself. She wasn't smiling that winning Jamie smile – instead she had a dull and defeated look on her face. Even the Waxerman boys who had sat for hours watching her and her mother do nothing but hold up rakes had lost interest and wandered away. Time outside in the backyard this was difficult to measure for Jamie. There are long periods of silence when the wind blows and the birds chirp and she has nothing on her mind and is bored –it could have been only fifteen minutes but without a task or a challenge all she could do was think. Thinking right now consisted of how despite the best of intentions, she was second guessing all the choices she had made that led up to this. The sliding glass door slid open and she resigned herself that it was probably someone come to fuck her already sore ass and laugh at her. It was Chris arriving home from school to check on her. "You just missed a chance to watch me get gang banged Sir." Jamie tried to sound positive and cheery but only sounded pathetic. "Who said you could talk, doggy?" Chris slapped her butt with a short leather paddle. "Dad said I could speak, I didn't know the permission expired. You can punish me for speaking to teach me to be a good doggy, sir." Jamie had managed to get better control of her emotions and would have sounded to most people sweet and sincere. "Wow, I can see what Dad meant." Chris said knowingly. Jamie wasn't sure what he and her Dad had been talking about but she assumed it was one of her shortcomings. "I'll try to do better Sir, should I just bark from now on?" "No, actually we've got a date for you – so I've come to get you ready. You can use words for now." Chris took his sister by the leash and led her on all fours into the living room. Her dad was playing a computer game and ignored her at first. "There is my good little whore, seems there are a lot of guys at your school who want to fuck you even though you are a pig. That's good news isn't it?" "Yes Sir" Jamie's tone was positive but with a hint of defeat and acceptance in her voice. "You have thirty minutes to get ready. I want you to pull out all the stops, get the makeup, hair, and I want you to beg your brother for a really thorough enema and douche like last night." "Yes Daddy, you don't want me to shit on the lawn?" "No, you can do it upstairs like last night and I want you to put on makeup like last night with all the lines." Bill instructed his daughter. "You mean just the contour lines Sir?" Jamie clarified – she had liked the way using different shades of makeup could give her more definition. She would definitely use that technique after she finished her training. "You don't mean I should cover up the whore tattoo do you Sir?" "Depends, are you going to wear the chastity belt your brother and I got you to protect your precious pee-hole?" Bill was typing 'AFK' to his guild on the game he was playing. "Do you want me to wear it, Sir?" At this point Jamie did not care one way or the other. If her father felt it wasn't being used enough she would put it on. "You are being given a choice – it's boring to just order you around like a rag doll. I like it some of the time but for me to enjoy this I want you to participate actively." He explained sternly. "You can wear the pussy prison and then all he can do is inspect you when you shit and piss and play with your tits. If you don't wear it then you he can play with your ass and pussy lips as part of the bargain and you can't complain about your precious modesty." "I would prefer not to wear it, so he can fuck me in the ass and I can earn a little more money for the house." "Good little slut - you know you got a star for that last fuck even though I think I should take away some since you didn't deliver blowjobs until they came over to our house and we made you." "Thank you Sir." Jamie didn't argue about it. Her father had brought up losing stars in the past but the girls always picked punishment. Her mom had warned her that if they started losing ground to get out of this it would only prolong it and they needed to face their punishment. At the moment – Jamie's mind was elsewhere and her father could see that. "Okay then don't cover your ass with make-up, but I want you to be on your best behavior for this one. This guy dropped a lot of cash on you." Jamie brightened a little that she was at least helping with the bills in her own way. "I am glad to help with the bills, Sir -Will mom be rented out tonight?" "Is it your business what your slut of a mother does? Actually the dope I put in charge of her hasn't emailed me back in four hours, so I am going to probably have to have a long talk with both of them when they get here." "He is probably just fucking the shit out of her and lost track of time, Dad." Chris offered jokingly and the two nodded their heads. Chris tugged his sister's leash, "Come on, let's let DAD play Star Wars: The Old Republic because Chris has to get you washed up and ready for your date." he hinted at his father as he walked away. "Hey, I told you that you could play later, we can only afford one account right now." His father said mildly amused. "Yeah, yeah I am just busting your balls." Chris was already leading his sister upstairs with a smile on his face. "You should enjoy busting your sister's balls instead." Bill joked back. Chris led Jamie by her now nearly empty room. "You haven't slept up here in a while. It looks like you moved out." He grinned. Jamie seemed pre-occupied in thought, "Yeah, I probably won't fill it up with so much stuff after the training is over. Just a simple bed and a few clothes, Sir." She agreed. Chris wasted no time in recycling the routine Delilah had used to prepare the girls to be strippers the night before. He had his sister squirming in pain –wigglng her ass and groaning as she held in the enema and douche combination. "That should take your mind off whatever's been bothering you. I think that was about as long as it was in last night." Jamie defensively reached behind her and touched the enema bottle "Please Sir, leave it in a little longer – I want to see how long I can last." Jamie had usually been very pro-active about accepting her punishment but she had never volunteered to endure an enema longer. Chris admitted he was impressed with his sister, "Wow, that's very um, cool." Jamie gritted her teeth and knotted her knees and kept her mind on holding back the explosive pressure of the water building up in her asshole. She tried to tell herself she was just being a perfectionist and going for her own personal best and that they were going to give her enemas anyway – so she might as well get used to them. It didn't work – she knew in her heart that her mind was back outside in the yard frozen on Bradley Jenkins' face of confusion and disgust. She was replaying that moment over and over and this pain was helping to block that out. She finally succumbed to the natural physiology of her body and with the most un-lady like sound evacuated her bowels in the tub while a wave of release washed over her. "Can I ask you a question Sir?" Jamie asked as every nerve ending in her body signaled release when the water finally squirted out. "Yes, I enjoy watching you do this every time." Chris answered with a smile. "No, I know you do." Jamie said with a look of amused acceptance - her brother was as amused with farts and poops as the Waxerman boys and would probably always be. "Let's say this renter asks to fuck me, then how much should I charge?" "Ten for a BJ, twenty for the ass" Chris said with a confused look on his face. "I mean in my cunt, sir. I am just asking hypothetically" Jamie asked. "What brought this on?" Chris was concerned - but he didn't let her get behind on getting ready. "You need to take a shower, you stink like Rosco" She stepped into the cold water of the shower and said, "Well I know you and dad will let me decide when I am ready to lose my final shred of virginity. It is just I could earn some more stars if he made a really good offer, and I wanted to know how much would be fair to ask - for my first time." Her lips were pouty as the cold water ran down her hair and face washing over her taut young body. "I'd have to ask Dad what he thinks," Chris said. "No don't do that Sir," Jamie was a little nervous, "do you think you would want to take it? You are my owner." "Sis, shut up and get ready." Chris walked out of the bathroom and didn't return for three minutes. He normally watched so he could squirt shampoo at them and harass them in the shower. When he returned, Jamie was already out and drying her hair – "Hundred bucks for the first time." he said matter of factly. "I didn't want you to tell Dad, Sir. I was just wanting to think about it is all." "Little miss keep no secrets is worried about what Dad thinks of her now?" he laughed. "Don't worry, this is an executive decision. If you want to throw away your virginity on some guy – I am sure for that much we probably wouldn't punish you." Chris rode his sister the way he normally did while she powdered her body, painted her nails and made herself up and the two didn't talk about it again. Chris led his sister down stairs naked by the leash that was still attached to her collar. Her father looked over his shoulder as she descended the stairs, "You know I always figured I'd see you up there coming down in your prom dress, but you actually look really beautiful this way." Jamie had taken a lot of care to apply her make up and do her hair. She could have probably passed for pop singer Taylor Swift from a distance. She was tall, blonde and had a cute little pixie shaped nose that made her look like the all-American girl next door. Her dad could see that even her eyes seemed to be smiling from where he was sitting in the den. "Would you like me to suck your cocks until my date arrives, Sir?" Jamie offered in reply. Bill smiled, "Nah, I am really into this new game. I just arrived on Nar Shadaa and its fucking unreal." Chris dashed over to his father's computer, "The Hutt world? I want to see that." the two became embroiled in discussing their new game. "Actually, why don't you get dressed and wait for your date outside." Bill said as an after-thought. Jamie was surprised that even her humiliation took back stage to a computer game. "You normally like to make them come in and pick out my outfit for the evening and go over the rules with them, Sir?" Jamie reminded them. "Yeah true, just throw on a long shirt and invite him in when he gets here and we'll do all that." Bill interrupted Chris as they talked about the enormous virtual world they were exploring on the computer. Jamie sighed and selected the only shirt in the cardboard box marked "Sluts" at the door. It was a Mario Brother's "Two Girls 1-Up" shirt, which just barely covered her pussy and ass cheeks if she stretched it far enough. She let herself out barefoot and stood by her mailbox while she waited for the guy who was going to rent her in just the long shirt. She didn't need to ask for a description – she was sure whichever pervert came up who recognized her was going to make it fairly obvious. "Ooh but what if two different perverts come up and I go with the wrong one? They'll send me to Waxerman's for sure." she thought about going back inside to ask for a description but decided the two were so heavily involved in their game they'd likely punish her for that. She got a few whistles from cars passing by and the wind caught her t-shirt more than once revealing her bare ass. Van Pewterschmidt the neighbor was jogging, "Oh great, I wonder if he is my renter." She thought to herself as she watched him coming towards her. He was in Nike spandex workout gear listening to an iPOD and clearly out for a long run. She knew her mom had been rented to him the day before and thought he might be trying to 'collect the set' as some of the guys had called renting both her and Wendy. She had already sucked his dick at the pool party but maybe he wanted more. Then again he was dressed completely wrong for a date – she started to imagine herself jogging along next to him. She watched him run down the sidewalk towards her – he was a handsome man to be in his forties. She had to admit that. He slowed down and continued to jog in place, "Hey there Jamie, I see you and your mother are still doing discipline games?" "It's not games sir. We are owned by the Taylor men. Are you my date?" she asked him. "I am flattered but no, I am just out jogging. Say hello to your mother for me and tell her that I enjoyed her company yesterday." He grinned and continued running. Her mom wasn't due home for another hour and Jamie just nodded in agreement as he continued his jog. After another ten introspective minutes outside - she heard the familiar barking of "Mr. Snips" and turned with a sigh. It was Mrs. Waxerman walking her dog, followed by the Waxerman boys. She used the opportunity to walk the dog to also look into people's windows and gather gossip – which often included how much she disliked how other people were such busy bodies and rumor mongers. "Hello Ma'am" she smiled while holding the flat of her hands down against the edge of her t-shirt. Mrs. Waxerman regarded her with a look she normally reserved for Mr. Snips when he tries to hump someone's leg or leaves behind one of his 'presents' in someone's yard. She stopped her dog and looked Jamie up and down considering what to find fault with first. "I am just out here waiting for my date, Ma'am." Jamie offered with her usual positive charm. "I pray on a daily basis, my thanks that sweet Delilah has not been affected by your mother's harlot influence the way you have Jamie Taylor, you are a disgrace!" Mrs. Waxerman was winding herself up. "I know Ma'am and," Jamie knew that Mrs. Waxerman was going to pretend to want to keep walking but would actually want to stay right there and give her a piece of her mind and Jamie actually welcomed it over standing quietly with her thoughts. Someone had just tapped Jamie on the shoulder – surprising her. As she turned around to see who it was Jamie's shirt flew up in the back revealing her naked, tattooed ass to the Waxermans who aside from Victoria were giggling. Jamie didn't notice because the person tapping her on the shoulder was Bradley Jenkins and he was smiling. "I didn't think I would see you again, Sir." Jamie stammered. "I don't see why not? You are my date tonight." Jamie all at once felt a mini-atomic explosion of feelings both of excitement, dread and wonder. To an outside observer her face radiated surprised happiness but inside she had many unanswered questions. "Please excuse me Ma'am, I have to get dressed for my date." Jamie turned enthusiastically to Mrs. Waxerman. Mrs. Waxerman was a strict old biddy but even she softened at the exultant look of joy on Jamie's face. "Well, see that you wear something nicer than what you have on." Victoria offered a parting shot of derision before leading her procession of chattering nephews down the sidewalk to judge some other neighbor's shortcomings. Jamie glided to the door and opened it. Her Dad and brother were crowded around the computer talking about light sabers and something called 'light side' points. "I am here with my date, sirs?" she said very loudly. It was almost like a happy dream and she was hoping they would turn and at least verify that this was really the person who had rented her tonight. She had this niggling doubt it couldn't really be the charming romantic lead who had been crossing paths with her since she began this adventure. "Hello Sirs!" Bradley called from the door way – the way he used the term 'Sirs' was clearly to make Jamie feel less awkward about saying it. Bill called back, "Get dressed and have a fun time." completely absorbed in his latest computer game. "You don't have to call them Sir, just me and my mom." Jamie explained to Bradley but he already knew that and he just grinned knowingly. "What should I wear Sir?" she stirred around the clothes in the slut box. "Whatever you want – I am not picky." Bradley was being easy going and kept his hands in his pockets as if he was a little bit uncomfortable with the choice. "It's just usually my dates get to pick," Jamie said expectantly but then added "You know what, it's fine, thank you sir for the privilege." She started to fish around for the least humiliating mini-skirt and top she could find. She fished them out of the pile of clothes and without hesitation pulled her shirt off revealing her naked body. Bradley averted his eyes like a gentleman. "It's okay Sir, it's nothing you haven't seen already." Jamie said reassuringly, standing completely naked in her living room. "Well that IS true," he made Jamie smile the way he stopped averting his eyes without hesitation and glued them back on her naked body - "You do look lovely." he added after the initial laugh. "Thank you Sir." she didn't make a move to dress. She knew her brother and father had set her up to be rented out under protocol to humiliate her but she didn't care. Bradley was acting like a gentleman and having fun with her situation. "Tick Tock, Tick Tock, have her home by Eleven!" Bill reminded them to hurry up and get on with the date. "Yes Sir!" Bradley saluted her father who had his back to them and took Jamie by the hand and led her out the door. It was two more hours before Wendy walked in the door. She had just cleaned off a butt plug and a dildo with her mouth and quickly stepped out of her work clothes, "I am SO SORRY, SORRY, SORRY!!!" she pleaded as she rushed over to get on her knees before her son and husband at the computer. "You should be sorry! You are late! Your idiot handler didn't even come inside to explain why he didn't email all day?" Bill was righteous in his wrath and Wendy denied nothing. "You are going to get at least a correction and I am thinking it may even be a judgment!!" he raised his voice in anger. Bill had three tiers of punishments – The infractions were simple and immediate and for the day to day correction of his sluts. The second tier was his 'corrections' and involved drawing a card with a set punishment but his third tier he had never had need to use was a 'judgment' and it promised to be a grueling ordeal. "I think Sir when you hear my explanation, you will say it should call for a 'Judgment' and I completely understand and accept that decision and I do not beg for mercy." Wendy was kneeling with her head down and her ass up as she explained. "That and you interrupted our new game!" Chris said half-serious. Bill logged them out of the computer game, "Okay let's go in the kitchen so you can explain." and stalked off angrily into the kitchen followed by Chris and lastly Wendy on her knees. "I lost my job." Wendy wasted no time in getting right down to it. She was beating herself up in ways mentally that made all affirmations pale by comparison. Revelations about being too self-absorbed in pilates and too controlling simply could not compete with the news that their only source of income was gone and they had bills coming due. Bill was beside himself with anger. Chris, who often saw the funny side of things in life even tragedy, was suddenly without words as the revelation that they would be losing the house and the car and everything if they can't pay their bills. He had JUST become popular at school and now life was kicking him in the balls. "Explain how you got fired?" Bill made Wendy give a short explanation summarizing her experiences at work that day. She even offered her theory that Steve and Vicky may have played her. "That's pretty far out. She got her nipples pierced just to trick you into thinking she was copying you so you wouldn't suspect they were setting you up? That's some long-term shit." Chris commented. Bill shook his head, "Doesn't matter – doesn't matter!" He didn't care about how it had happened – only that it had happened. "I am too fucking angry to punish you – you know that? I don't punish out of anger, I punish out of love." "I know that Sir, and I know you are just trying to make me a better person. I don't have any hard feelings about this treatment. If you want to punish me while you are angry, I can take it. I am a big girl – go ahead and beat my ass Sir." Wendy offered her ass without a trace of sarcasm while remaining on the floor. "You do have a lovely ass though." Bill said after a pregnant pause. "Chris has been teaching me to wiggle while I waggle, Sir." Wendy wiggled her butt smiling at how absurd that sounded. Chris, Bill and Wendy laughed – none of them knowing why. It might have been that the stress of knowing the serious trouble they were in – they were all in together. In Wendy's case it might have also been the hysterical laughter of someone who had just been ran out of her office naked with a butt plug and dildo in her ass and cunt sinking any possibility of a future with that company and possibly and other similar position in another company. Her behavior sank her career and it had simply been building up, all because she took advantage of her husband and her son when they were at their most vulnerable. Everything that was happening to the family and would happen to the family was her fault and she felt the full weight of the consequences. She had already cried enough tears about what happened and was all cried out. Her laughter was more like the hysterical laughter of someone that had lost everything and was at a point that no other option was left to her but to laugh. When they stopped laughing Wendy said as she got herself under control and put on a straight face, "I am sorry Sir, I don't know why I did that. I know you have every right to punish me and I respect that you are too angry right now to show the appropriate restraint – I would be too." She thought for a moment before adding, "I would like to propose a counter-offer to my punishment but I need to speak with Jamie. Is she outside, Sir?" knowing her daughter was probably on doggie-duty. "Actually, I just rented her out for the night." Bill said without a trace of compassion. Wendy couldn't be sure how much of that was an act anymore. "Do you have someone to rent me out to tonight too, Sir?" Wendy said hopefully. "No one wanted your fat-ass tonight, so it's just us." Bill hadn't actually looked for someone to rent Wendy out too but that sounded a little more appropriate – somehow Wendy suspected as much. "Did our daughter get kicked out of school, today Sir?" Wendy asked gingerly. "Oh it's OUR daughter now is it? When she does good in school she takes after you, but when she fucks up she is ours?" "No Sir, she has always been ours – good or bad." Wendy said plainly. "Yeah, she got kicked out." Bill explained, "I had even gone to bat for her but I guess the Principal caught her in the middle of some shenanigan with these three complete dickheads at her school. He had no choice to suspend her." "Bill Taylor" Wendy said surprised. She had her ass up, pointed and spread at her husband with her face lying flat on the kitchen tile but her voice sounded pleasantly amused. "You old Teddy Bear, I thought for sure you would want her suspended so you could keep her home and train her every day?" "Nah, she is a good girl. I am not a heartless bastard – If you tell her I will deny it but I've known she had a crush on Brad Jenkin's older son for a while. I didn't charge him anything to 'rent my daughter' for tonight. Chris was shocked "You didn't?" "No Son, your sister has been a good girl and I am sorry, but I knew it broke her heart when that little bitch Cathy was walking him out there to see her get gang banged by those football players." "Actually, I agree with you Dad. I have never seen her not look on the bright side and sound defeated before today. I thought maybe I was just imagining it but I am glad you did." "Yeah, I called him after he left and made arrangements. She is going to have to be polite and let him order for her, but she deserves a night out." He explained how despite everything she has been obedient and he couldn't stand to break her heart on this guy. "I see the way she looks at him." Wendy was smiling from ear to ear listening Bill talk proudly of his daughter. "That is the way I looked at you in High School, Sir." "How do you think I know the look, Fat Ass?" He slapped his wife's bronzed ass cheek with his hand. "I probably wouldn't have let her date a guy in college before the training. She just seemed too naïve but now that we've been through this together –well I think she deserves it." "Well I don't deserve the same treatment, and I expect you two should address my many shortcomings and find an appropriate punishment for me until I get a chance to speak to Jamie about my counter-offer." Wendy said with certainty. "Actually I think you have been strong and obedient and I don't think Chris or I could have kept up with you two. You have beaten yourself up more than any punishment I can come up with about losing the job and I shouldn't have left you with Jerry. He is obviously more of a loser than I could have imagined." Bill said. "Yeah, all my friends at school are losers and even we would think he is pathetic, Mom." Chris said. Hearing him call her mom sounded almost alien to her ears but at the same time appropriate. "I think for tonight you can get dressed and watch me play Hutt ball PVP on Star Wars: The Old Republic tonight." Chris added generously. Bill said "Actually, I think I'd like to get you a decent outfit and take you down to the Sizzler – and rent you for the night." Bill made his offer clear and Wendy smiled. That was the first restaurant he ever took her on a date too and he would take her there for their first few anniversaries before it became too cumbersome to find a sitter for the kids. She was glad they couldn't see the look of complete happiness on her face with her head flat to the ground. "Those sound like fine ideas, but I have to decline Sir." "WHA?" they both shook their heads in disbelief. "Yes, if you give me a break from the protocol, it will be that much harder to go back to it when you bring me home and have to tie me back up." Wendy didn't stipulate if it would be harder for her to accept the yoke or harder for them to see her as a house pet again. "I believe you should string me up in the living room on two chairs and then proceed to give me an affirmation – so that you can re-establish my role in the house. Then you should ignore me for the remainder of the night and go about your business until our slut daughter comes home from her date." She said without hesitation. "Oh, you like that treatment now?" Bill said amused. "No, I absolutely hate it Sir." Wendy was serious – it had made her feel ignored, humiliated and all of her muscles were sore as she hung from the ceiling with a whip shoved up her ass. "Then why do you want it?" Bill was curious but confused. "Because I know it amuses you both, and it's my place. So please tie me up in the living room before I change my mind Sir" It was Bill's turn to smile from ear to ear. ------- Chapter 17: Wendy's Journal "Star Belly Beetches" Now, the Star-Bell Sneetches had bellies with stars. The Plain-Belly Sneetches had none upon thars. Those stars weren't so big. They were really so small. You might think such a thing wouldn't matter at all. But, because they had stars, all the Star-Belly Sneetches Would brag, "We're the best kind of Sneetch on the beaches." With their snoots in the air, they would sniff and they'd snort "We'll have nothing to do with the Plain-Belly sort!" And, whenever they met some, when they were out walking, They'd hike right on past them without even talking. The Sneetches Dr. Seuss Note to reader: This is Wendy's journal from Tuesday Morning after Wendy lost her job and her daughter's suspension from school - In order to increase readability, some of the dialogue exchanged was altered to appear in a 'narrative' story format. The star count has been suspended due to recent circumstances in the story. ------- Just as I had the day before I awoke to Chris barking out "RUFF RUFF RUFF! RISE AND SMELL THE PUSSY, LAZY FUCKS" in both of our faces. I was much more ready for it than I had been the other morning. You see ordinarily when one is tied up naked face to face and tit to tit with her teenage daughter after a night of torturous humiliation you usually dread things like this. You might add to that the impending notion that you lost your only source of income and you haven't the money to keep your house or only source of transportation. Jamie and I awoke smiling and ready to serve like obedient puppies. That probably bears some explaining and I have nothing but time right now so let me go into it because I am having a hard time understanding why we were both so chipper myself. Yesterday Bill and Chris, despite being in a position to continue to make our lives miserable and rightfully punish us, were both actually very generous and not at all vindictive or selfish. They have evolved from what they were, to two men I am proud of and I love with all my heart. I know they can be meanies to me – but hey I agreed to this so I need to swallow my medicine. My dad used to say something that stuck with me – Once you learn to quit, it becomes a habit. They sent Jamie on a date with the guy she has been bumping into and apparently it went fantastic. He dropped her off right on time and Bill said that he thought it might be daylight savings time and would they please come back in an hour. I have to admit Bradley is a perfect gentlemen and the fact that I was tied by my neck and wrists to the rafters as I balanced on some chairs naked with a whip hanging out of my butt didn't faze him at all. He just said "Oh Mrs. Taylor you didn't have to stay up for us" and pretended it was the most normal thing in the world for his date's mother to be gagged with drool running down her bared chest. Jamie was so excited she couldn't sleep and when they finally tied us up on the floor they gagged us both with those big O-ring gags so we "would shut up and not jibber jabber all night" as Chris says. This morning though after we get the guys their food I intend to hear every detail. "You two lazy cunts don't have any place to get ready for, but rest assured Dad and I are going to think of ways to keep you occupied outside." He jammed our tail-plugs in our mouth and led us outside to shit on the lawn on all fours. This is Chris's favorite part of the morning I think and I did not disappoint him. I left two good sized turds near the rose bushes and did my best not to drop any on my thighs as they splashed down. "Whoa, good girl!" I thought he was talking to me as I turned to smile at him but it was Jamie. She let go of three big turds while holding her ass cheeks apart - "Thank you Sir". She didn't even seem embarrassed when he plunged a finger in her ass and wiggled it around while he inspected her before plunging the same finger in my mouth. He made us eat each other out and Jamie made no secret that this was less about cleaning each other and all about pleasuring each other. She drove her tongue into my ass and pushed her chin all the way into my pussy – and all without being prodded by her brother. Whatever happened yesterday she woke up with an entirely new vigor about serving and this part I really could not complain about. I did my best to return the favor when it was my turn but familiar feelings of guilt that this is my daughter's ass and pussy kept me from giving 100% - poor girl will have to settle for 99% effort. He hosed us down and inserted the tails up our asses with only a slight twist and a turn "Perfect fit, you two get fatter asses and I'll have to find something bigger to fit up there." He laughed. "Since you have nothing to really do all day any more we'll think of some new ways to torment you. Cathy sent over some pictures last night in e-mail and I've got some ideas." They had us put ribbons in our hair and then after we made breakfast for them and shaved each other on the tile floor with a bowl of warm water. I asked if we could milk ourselves but Bill said, "No, let your tits be sore for a while, I'll come out and tell you when you can." They inspected us by feeling us up and then as a final measure had us stand with our arms out by the kitchen table as they wrote on us in magic marker. "Dog Cunt" and an arrow right above my freshly shaved pussy. "Dog Ass" on Jamie's upper back and an arrow down to her crack. Chris drew two circles around Jamie's tits and made them look like bull's-eyes. Bill wrote "I am a lost slut puppy, if you find me, please fuck and then return to..." and our address on my belly. They wrote "Property of Bill and Chris" on us but Chris ran out of room on Jamie's back and the last few letters didn't quite fit. They painted our faces to look like we had a dog nose and whiskers and two round circles for eyes. Then they made us each write on each other. Jamie had to write "I am here because I lost my job and there is no better use for me" on my leg. I had to write "I am here because I am a whore and I was kicked out of school and this is the best use for me.". "Wow, mom's handwriting is far more legible than ours." Chris giggled. "You two bitches saw us being soft yesterday but today it's back to the grind stone." Bill mused while holding out a shriveled piece of bacon. "Here jump for it." he tossed it and we both went after it. Jamie got it but I didn't mind. One thing about eating dog food (besides bad gas) is that I was definitely not putting on any extra pounds. If anything all this training and the new diet had brought out extra definition in my shoulders and abs. "Are we too generous to you to two cunts?" Bill asked as Jamie finished off the little scrap of bacon. "RUFF!" we both barked in unison. "Dad, can I stay home today? I want to play with our dogs." Chris asked his father. "Trust me, after I finish their affirmation I am going to login to Star Wars: The Old Republic" Chris picked up his own books and headed for the door adding "That doesn't make me any happier" on the way out. After Chris left Bill told us that because he wanted to have a coffee and some alone time he was going to permit us to talk freely outside. "Don't get too used to it – ordinarily the only thing I want coming out of those big mouths of yours is barks." Then he told us to go outside and attach our leashes to the dog house "Don't let me catch you walking around on two legs though." We looked at each other and crawled outside on all fours quietly. We quietly clipped ourselves to Rosco's dog house with faces so long you would think we were tying our own hangman's noose. He was happy for the company and tried to jump and lick on us – but eventually he got the hint that we didn't want him all over us and backed off. "Well this is weird" I was the first to talk. Jamie asked "Do you think the Waxerman boys are watching?" "I don't hear them giggling behind the fence, but because they are home schooled I would imagine they'll be around at some point during the day. "Actually I don't mind that much," Jamie explained that yesterday the hardest part about being outside was the boredom and quiet. "Yeah but at least we have each other" "Dad said we won't get to talk to very much" she reminded me and I stroked her hair and told her that I think sometimes we don't need words to get each other. "Well maybe we can come up with a system of signals for when we DO need words" she smiled. "That is a good idea and we can totally do that but actually, I think I am more curious to hear about your date last night!" I said excitedly. "Well, I'd like to hear what happened at work and how this is supposed to work for you? Even if I earn all one hundred stars, I am still out here every day until the suspension is over. Are you out here until you get another job? And if so how are you going to find one while you are chained up in the backyard?" I hadn't really thought about that. I probably should have but I had something I wanted to bring up to her first. "I just want to hear about your date first?" I said excited for my daughter's happiness. "You want to know if I had sex with him, don't you?" We were on all fours next to Rosco at the Dog House. The sun wasn't fully out yet so the morning air was still cool. I slapped my daughter on her butt and said "I want to know everything" but didn't deny I wasn't curious. I knew she was on birth control and she had explicitly said she was holding out for this guy. She told me that he took her to the movies and dinner at a nice restaurant. I made her tell me about the Lobster and the salad – pralines, strawberries and raspberry vinaigrette on arugula. I vowed once this was all over and we were back on our feet to go there and have exactly that for dinner. She found it difficult not to ask permission to leave the table and act on her protocol but he was great at making her loosen up. He took her to the county fair and several people recognized her but almost no one said anything – Madam Chang even smiled at her. Then in the moonlight in the backseat of his father's car – He fucked the shit out of my beautiful teenage daughter. Okay – he was gentle and held her after but I was a little horny this morning and I had preferred to hear how he pulled her hair and plowed her. I know that makes me sound totally perverted but a wise man told me – is being perverted really so bad? "The part I don't understand is how did he get past everything he saw you doing?" I asked. "I started at the very beginning when I was caught up in school and cheer and then when we decided to try to pressure Dad and Chris to change." She had gone over the same story that I told Mr. Bitterman the day before except it was all about her own journey. "He couldn't believe his little brother had punished me and I made him promise not to do anything to Gerald." She told me. "He said that he understood why I made the choices I did and admired me for sticking with it. He said his mom wore the pants in the family the way we did and his father would probably have never been able to rise to take over the way Dad did." Then she covered her mouth as if she had just remembered something. "What is it?" "Well, last night I didn't get asked if I got fucked and I didn't offer to drip the cum out on the kitchen floor. Chris said the first time I have sex I would need to charge at least one hundred bucks for the ride – and I couldn't bring myself to charge Bradley after he paid the money to rent me and was a perfect gentleman." She was conflicted. "Your father told me he called Bradley after he stormed out yesterday and that he didn't charge him anything to rent you." Jamie smiled "He did?" that made perfect sense to her now that I mentioned it. "I still have to tell Dad what I did last night. He might inspect me and see I don't have any a hymen anymore." "Your father wouldn't know what a hymen looks like if it bit him. I am proud that you waited – and I wouldn't blame you if you kept this a secret. If he finds out you aren't a virgin any more then you are going to have do more than just anal from now on." I warned her – but I knew she already knew that. "I couldn't pretend I was still a virgin and not be eaten up with guilt – especially after he set me up with Bradley." "Then you will have to tell your father, but expect him to probably punish you." I said pragmatically. "How does Bradley feel about you being rented out for the rest of our training?" "We didn't really talk about boyfriend-girlfriend status, Mom" she said with a hint of embarrassment "It was just a first date." "It was more than JUST a first date for you," I reminded her patting her head "You need to talk to him so that he doesn't get jealous" "Well I don't think he would be but you have a good point. He knows I am going to see this through to the very end and we didn't dwell on it but that means sucking dicks for jerks like Dave Stravosky or whoever Dad and Chris choose. You are married and you are willing to do it and Dad can live with sharing you after all." We are an old married couple who have had years to strengthen our relationship but I didn't think to remind her of that at the time. She told me it was my turn to tell her what happened at my work. I told her everything –even the part about Jerry in a diaper. "So you asked them to tie you up in the living room like that? God mom. I thought I was really asking for it to go over to Mrs. Waxerman's for punishment but why did you do that?" "Bill and Chris were so proud of us that I would have felt manipulative if I had taken a night off from this." I explained how Sunday night when her and Delilah walked in and acted like I was simply furniture it was horrible but that it seemed appropriate somehow. "You spent all night balancing naked on two chairs on your tip-toes tied to the rafters –nearly choking yourself voluntarily?" I nodded yes and she only gave me a reassuring grin and leaned in to kiss me on the lips. "What was that for?" I asked. "I love you, Mom" she said. "I love you too, but" I was about to say something and she shhh'd me. "Just you make it easy to stay out here like this" she indicated our being naked on all fours. Rosco took that as a sign he was invited to start trying to lick our faces again and she tickled him, "You don't make it easy to stay out here like this, no you don't, you are just a little bugaboo." using baby talk. Bill slid the glass door open and stomped out, "Oh you two are making out? Let me guess, showing off for those Waxerman kids?" he scanned the fence line for their heads to pop out. "No sir, Jamie was just telling me how much she loved me." I said loud enough for him to hear. "Oh you don't love your dad?" Bill asked Jamie. "Of course I do, I love you too Dad" she said plainly "You don't think I am cruel for taking all your clothes and making you run around like a dog?" he asked. "Of course I think you are cruel for that, but I love you anyway." She smiled a toothy grin and even Bill cracked a smile. "Keep trying to butter me up bitches," he couldn't hide from me the fact that he liked what she had just said. "Your new affirmation is forehead touching the ground, ass facing me holding it apart with both hands." We wasted no time in assuming the position despite the fact that it basically caused us to eat grass to do it outside. "Ass face, why do you have that tail up your ass this morning?" he started the affirmations with my daughter. "Despite your generosity in permitting me to remain in school where I could be supervised by my brother and his friends, I was kicked out of school and until my suspension is lifted I will have to report out here as your puppy Sir." she wiggled a little bit cutely. "Remain still fat ass." he kicked her butt with his foot. "Your principal told me that at one point you said you wanted to be kicked out of school, why is that?" he asked. "I am a 16 year old girl Sir. I am fickle like a character in a Taylor Swift song. I don't always know what is best for me, which is why I take orders from you and my brother Sir." "Yet, if you ever stop being so lazy and EARN your one hundred stars you won't have to listen to me and your brother?" He said it like a question. "That doesn't mean I won't listen and seek your advice, Sir." Jamie offered meekly. "You seemed to really be happy you were rented out to Bradley Jenkins last night. You know I can't rent you out to him every night right?" "Yes Sir, I am your whore and I know I was lucky to get such a wonderful date. I'll be on my best behavior for whoever you rent me too. I want to thank you for letting me go with Bradley." "Letting you? I made you go on that date to earn me some money to pay to keep you fuckfaces in toilet paper and make-up, well make-up anyway." Bill had sat down on the lawn chair so he could rest his feet on our backs. "Mom told me what you did sir and I want to say I really appreciate it. It was very unexpected and I want to thank you so much." "Can't keep your trap shut, Cowtits?" Bill kicked off his flip flops and ground his toe into my pussy. "It's unexpected that your dad would give you a little treat for your obedience eh?" he asked her before I had a chance to respond to his first question. "You just didn't have to is all Sir, and I am grateful." Jamie added. "You didn't bring home any money, so I assume he didn't get a blowjob or fuck you in the ass?" Bill asked point blank. Jamie paused and I could hear Bill slapping his foot against her cunt impatiently. He was jamming the toe of his other foot in my pussy nervously. "I don't think I heard you. I know you would answer me if you heard me ask you a question, slut?" Bill reminded her. "I gave him my virginity last night, Sir." she choked out. "You GAVE?" he was surprised – but if he had been paying attention he would know that this was the guy Jamie had been waiting for. I couldn't be sure if he was just fucking with her or his protective dad instinct just woke up. "I know it is YOUR cunt sir, and you decide who gets to fuck it or touch it. I accept my punishment and I am sorry I didn't come home with one hundred dollars!" she pleaded very contritely. "Why one hundred dollars?" Bill asked. "I asked my brother what I should charge for my first time if it happened." Jamie sounded a little more reluctant about that answer. "So you knew you would probably fuck him, huh?" Bill demanded. Jamie wiggled in place nervously, "Actually yes sir, I have thought about him a lot. I submit my pussy for use just like mom's is now. I've had my first time and I have no reason to be stingy with it." Oh yes she did, but I didn't want to tell her. Bill took the garden hose and pushed the nozzle into her pussy. I could see her make a face, "You can stay like that until I finish with your slut of a mother." Then he shifted his focus to me, "So how does it feel to be out of work? To no longer be the bread winner of the family?" I knew I would probably eventually get fired for what I was doing at my job but I think I had been operating on this hope that somehow I could be the exception. I knew how Bill had been raised to be the breadwinner that this meant more to his ego as a male than to me – So I had to be sensitive that my main concern was really just how would we pay our bills. "I know you think I will be lazy Sir, but if you rent me out every night I promise I will be a good girl and look for a new job too. I know you really wanted to go to the Internet User's Forum this weekend, maybe we can still go, Sir." "I told you last night when I put you through affirmations that that was pointless, just forget it. The truck is going to get repo'd or have you lost all sense of priority?" "I guess I have Sir." I still felt that Bill really wanted to go and a part of me would have done almost anything to get him there. You know when someone says "Almost anything" and it's hyperbole – I couldn't think of one thing I wouldn't have done. "Chris is going to find dates for you two tonight but it's not enough – tell me what are you?" He ground his foot further into my pussy. "I am a whore mother of a slut daughter who lost her job and deserves to stay outside like a doggy all day until you are ready to let us back inside Sir" He yanked the garden hose from Jamie's pussy and then put it in my mouth cutting short my turn for the affirmation. "You are going to have a problem letting Chris and I fuck that cunt of yours?" he said in a voice that almost cracked because even he knew it sounded wrong after he said it. "I have been saying I am a three hole whore for a while but now I am finally one Sir. You can use any of them Sir." Bill declared us good little sluts and left us that way while he went back in the house. I asked Jamie if she thought we could move around and she told me no. I was glad I didn't shift position because eventually I heard the sliding glass door open and Bill talking on his cell phone about something. The thing about Bill is that I can't really be mad at how much of a bastard he is being. If he was a spineless jellyfish I wouldn't respect him any more than I do Jerry Cooper from accounting. I have to even mention where Jerry is from in my own journal because he is so forgettable that I know if I don't I won't remember him. I know that in his gruff way he is proud of all of us – We've stuck with this very bizarre arrangement as agreed and not one of us has given up. It used to be if Chris encountered even a little adversity he would just quit as a matter of habit. Jamie and I aren't quitters but at the same time this has tested that resolve. It's easier to say you aren't a quitter when you win at cheerleading competitions and are successful in everything you try. There have been times I have wanted to – There have been times I've cried because I can't stand what I've been made to do but I have not ever thought of acting on the thought. I can tell that Bill wants to let us out of this arrangement on some subconscious level. I know on a more conscious level he is enjoying it and I don't begrudge him that – I'd probably laugh at us scurrying around on the lawn like little doggies too. I know he didn't want to come out and babble like a little girl about his feelings. He pulled strings to keep her in school and he sent her on a date with a boy she REALLY likes because that is his way of saying "Look, I am still your father and I love you." He has come so far in a short time, but one thing I know about Bill was he was never much for talking about feelings like that. I think it's something ingrained in boys by their own fathers that a handshake and a steely gaze with a firm grip is a more powerful expression than a bunch of words. He probably sees it as a sign of weakness. I think Bill is more of a 'Let me show you' kind of guy. I think it would actually embarrass him to have to come right out and say it too. I know that with me too, he is trying to cut me some slack. That is why I think I feel guilty about accepting that slack when it's offered – I feel like maybe I am manipulating him. This can be so confusing at times – Chris is probably right when he says girls over think things too much. He hit us across the back with two large flesh colored dildos – mine was black. "You have one hour of hole training. I want you to fuck each other with these dildos but remain in the doggy position." He made sure our faces were close enough we could see eye to eye and then awkwardly we started to jab the dildos into our pussies. "Hang on" he left again and came back with two double ended dildos. The look on his face was the same as the one he got when he decided to try to pour lighter fluid all over the BBQ just before burning off his eyebrows or started tinkering with something. He pulled the tails from our asses and stuck them in our mouths. Then he fed the first dildo into my asshole. The dildo had artificial veins to give it extra ridges and felt like a heavy weight pushing down on my insides. Then he fed the second dildo into my pussy and once he had them both in there firmly he had Jamie remain bent over and face her ass towards my ass. "Okay like trains I am going to back you two together" and he made Jamie writhe until she could work first her ass and then her pussy onto the other end of the dildos so that we were connected. "Choo-Choo!" I said and my daughter giggled over my silliness - Chris would have loved that one. "Stay like that and work yourself back and forth. I want that pussy good and worked out. If you guys do good when I come check on you, I'll let you take another shit and milk yourselves." and with that he left us. Rosco once again rushed over and started licking my thigh and there wasn't much I could do about it. My hands were free so at least I could keep him from trying to suckle my tits – I guess he thinks I am his momma. Annoying little shit that he can be some times. Once you sort of establish who is boss he backs down. "Well this is another fine mess you've gotten us into." Jamie used a line that I picked up from Laurel and Hardy I had said to her many times. I asked her if she knew who they were. "They are like Abbot and Costello right?" Jamie asked casually while we bumped asses in rhythm riding the dildo. "Are you okay with this? Is it hurting?" I asked her. "Yes, isn't it supposed too?" she answered. "Yeah after your first time definitely. I am sorry this is your second time, hon." I apologized. "Who remembers their second time?" she dismissed it – and to her point, I didn't remember mine. "Listen I don't think your father was really upset about you losing your virginity. I think he is just wanting to see how far you are willing to go. If you told him you were uncomfortable with them fucking you – I bet they would understand." I said. "I know he is just breaking my balls, mom." that sounded like something Chris would say – not Jamie. "Well right now you have two big dicks sticking out of you, but I don't know about any balls." I was rowing myself along the edges of the dildo in my pussy but the one in our ass wasn't really budging. She didn't laugh but I couldn't see her face so I pictured her smiling at me. "I wanted to talk to you about something before your father comes back out here, and I've been trying to get the courage to bring it up." I said after a few minutes. "We are double-penetrating each other in the backyard – I think I am pretty shockproof." She said confidently. "Last night I told Bill that I should be punished for losing my job." I said. "And you were, my date even told me later that he almost spit out his gum in surprise when he saw you tied up in the living room." Jamie reminded me. "I am glad your date was so amused." I really wasn't but I could grin and bear it. "I didn't ask Bill to let me start looking for another job or pressure him to tell me how long I have to spend like this because I have a proposal for him – but I want to know how you feel about it. If you say no then I won't bring it up again." She was quiet and I took that as a sign to continue. "What I am going to say is a little hard for me because we have worked hard to earn the stars we do have. I am going to beg your father to stop tracking our stars until we get out of debt." Jamie was stunned in silence. "I know ... I know that means we can't get out of this for a while. I am okay with it but I have to know you are behind me. I am going to ask your father to put me on craigslist and to also take us down to that Mega Adult store and see if that guy Buford wants to have us do a show. The thing is, if you are giving up your pussy now, that throws a monkey wrench in my plans because I don't really want to ask you to come along with me." She was thinking it over. "Chris can't get the kind of money we need from renting us to his friends at school even he pulled a Risky Business style party and worked us all night." She clearly didn't get the reference so I explained that was one of Tom Cruise's first roles and to get enough money to save all the stuff in his house he got these prostitutes to fuck all his friends before his parents got home in one big party. "You have worked really hard to get your stars – now if you don't want to do this I am totally okay with that and I am not going to try to make you feel guilty about it. We can get by somehow – we always do." I was still bumping and grinding on the dildo and I asked my daughter if she was still thinking about it. "Yeah we heard you." I couldn't see Bill because he was standing behind me but he had apparently heard the entire offer and that's why Jamie was quiet. "I was actually going to tell you both that once you earned your stars you could transition back to normal and then start looking for a job. I already signed you up for unemployment online." "Transition Sir?" I asked unable to see his face. "Yeah, you don't think the day after I take off these collars you can just go back to how you were?" he asked. I really did think that was exactly how it was going to go. "I've learned a lot down here Sir, and obviously I will address my short comings but yes I did think I could have clothes and sleep in our bed?" "Oh you will, but you will have a limited discipline routine to ween yourselves off. Chris and I had a hard time making the adjustment from being your slaves to having freedom – trust me, it won't be so bad." We hadn't discussed that and I was a little concerned he had obviously decided this in advance. "You were just talking about suspending the stars and getting me to pimp you both out – now you are worried you'll have to give up a little freedom while you get used to having freedom again?" He said reassuringly. "I like Mom's idea but I have a counter-counter offer." Jamie finally spoke. She continued to fuck herself at a medium pace on the dildo. "You don't have to worry about granting us stars – and mom and I will be obedient little whores the entire time. You can work us full-time fucking whoever you want, make movies, whatever." Jamie was promising a lot. She had two conditions: You WILL go to your internet users' forum and you will take us with you as a family. On Monday morning we go into transition mode for a week. We will be humble but we get to make all our own decisions on what we want to wear, eat, and how to dress and you can't punish us. "So what you are saying is that you don't have to earn the stars you have coming?" Bill said "Dad, I am on the ground with two double-dildos fucking my mom while you watch. I think you can admit you have your payback." "Touche'" he said – I bet he nodded. "How do I incentivize you to continue? I know how you girls think – without any reward, why take risk?" Bill said considering her offer. "We will basically be under white alert all the time – like at Mrs. Waxerman's house. You can punish us when we are bad and give us affirmations to keep us motivated and when we do extra good – well you could let me take a long bath." She was very certain and positive sounding. "YES!" I said. "Did you just orgasm?" Bill asked. "No Sir, I was saying that I'd like a bath for a job well done ... a nice hot long private bath." I have to admit I was intensely picturing a nice warm bath with candles and fragrance though. "Waste my hot water?" he chuckled "Well first I think you whores are smiling too much so I am a little wary that you want something out of this. I need to think about it and talk with Chris so don't go getting your hopes up just yet. On your issue of the users' forum there is something you don't know about that." Bill explained how he had been on the Internet discussion group for a long time and his rival "Graymalkin" had attended Union county high school. They debated politics, religion, and most of all sports. The highest point of contention being Bill's role in the final game of the season and how he won the game ball his senior year. "The thing is when we got kicked out of the house," which is how Bill saw his leaving, "the guy who ran the motel kept all my sports memorabilia because I couldn't pay my rent. Then he kept adding more and more money to how much he wanted for it." Bill explained that if he had to go to the forum convention without that he would look like a liar and have to eat crow. "So we need to get that, Sir." Jamie said very certainly. I couldn't agree more but I knew how particularly nasty that motel was. "You don't understand Jamie, we tried that the first night Bill rented us out. I had to walk the street along Martin Luther King Blvd. That is why I freaked out on Sunday night when we went to that titty bar because I thought we were back at the motel." "You walked the flea market, what is the difference out there?" Jamie had a good point. "Okay, if we do this, I want to work together and Bill or Chris to keep an eye on us the entire time." I said to Jamie. "Don't I have a say in this?" Bill coughed. "I already told you it doesn't matter what that asshole Graymalkin thinks. I have bigger priorities." He said, "I know you guys want to help but I don't know about going that far." "Dad, I've sucked dicks at the flea market, behind dumpsters, in Best Buy, I know it is going to be disgusting but it's the only way we can make money quickly." Jamie pleaded sensibly. "Sir, let Jamie transition out on Sunday and I will work until we are completely out of the hole. We have time to get out of foreclosure so all we have to do is afford food and your truck payment." "What about paying on your car – it will ruin your credit." Bill pointed out that despite my car being totaled I still owed the balance because insurance would not pay for it. "So I have bad credit? A lot of people have bad credit." "No!" Jamie said and at first I thought I had hit her pelvis bone with the dildo. "It's okay on the bad credit thing, hon, after seven years they are supposed to take off your slow pays." I reassured her. "No, I mean I will serve until it's all paid up." Jamie volunteered. "You most certainly will not. Your suspension will be up after next week. You spend one week in transition and then you can go back to school." I warned her driving myself a little more intensely than I wanted to on the dildo. "I'll go to school and be trained during the day and hook at night. I can do it Mom." "You two look like you are riding a see-saw" Bill laughed. "I don't know about you telling Jamie what she will and will not do. You have no authority over her – is that clear slut?" "Yes Sir" I agreed with him – it's not like I ever felt the need to have authority over her before. She always seemed to make good choices (the choices I would make anyway). "If we do this, I'll probably ride you really hard – you may have wished you stuck with the stars because I am not kidding that I thoroughly enjoy watching you two live like this." He laughed and added, "I need to think about this and talk with Chris." he ordered us to slide off each dildo and suck on them from either end to clean them with our mouth. "Whatever I decide, it will be the stars or this counter-offer. I won't keep adding on extra stipulations. I hate how Rahjid kept adding interest and penalties to what I owed him. It made me just want to give up." Bill said as he watched us mewling around on the ground. "Who is Rahjid, Sir?" Jamie asked innocently. "He is the asshole who runs the motel where my football stuff is, and after we talk to Chris he'll be one of your pimps – you still okay with that little bitch?" Bill gave Jamie one last chance to change her mind. "No Sir, I've made up my mind what I vote." Jamie said emphatically. "You know you two look cute like that." Bill was looking down at our sun-warmed butts and smiling with what approached pride. "Yeah, Yeah laugh it up Sir" I knew I could get away with teasing back. "I am going to play a little Star Wars: The Old Republic, I want you to milk each other's tits over your dog dishes- Those jugs are looking a little full." I did feel like I was smuggling two ripe watermelons on my chest. "Can we also piss and shit, Sir?" Jamie asked politely. "Gah it's always something with you two. Didn't you go this morning?" "These things," I was jiggling the rubber double dildo I had for effect, "pushed down on something inside my ass and make me want to poop, Sir." I thought Jamie was going to volunteer me for correction – she is such a stickler about using 'shit' instead of a euphemism. Instead, she comfortably offered, "OMG Mom, that is exactly it. I feel like I am going to burst." "So you two are full of shit, huh?" I was the first one to move over to Bill's leg and pretend to hump it. Jamie joined in almost immediately as we play-acted begging "Please Sir, Oh sir, please supervise us while we shit like your humble little whores, oh please." we mewled like a couple of silly sluts. He grinned and shook his head, "The things I do for you two sluts" and crossed his arms expectantly. He had let Chris supervise us almost every time in the past because this wasn't 'his thing'. This time he laughed "I see why Chris likes watching this. When Jamie shits it looks like a chocolate soft-serve ice-cream machine." He was laughing. "With a lemonade dispenser." Jamie giggled because Chris had made that same observation except it was him who coined the phrase "lemonade dispenser". You are some twisted sluts." and with that he announced he was going back inside to play his game. When he left I asked Jamie jokingly "What? No inspection and clean up?" "Does he want us administer it ourselves?" Jamie answered seriously. "I don't think he realized it was part of the ritual," I told her in seriousness, "What would you have me do if I found you hadn't emptied your entire ass anyway?" Jamie grunted in frustration and said "So just air dry?" I was about to say "I suppose So" and resign myself to the fact that either we wait for our pee to dry on our pussy lips or scoot our asses on the grass when Rosco solved the problem for Jamie. "Oh no!" Jamie didn't sound particularly in distress as she wiggled, "Okay now that's not right." She wiggled her ass as Rosco proceeded to lick her wet ass. I have to admit even I giggled at first just at how silly it seemed, "Dogs like to sniff each other's butts" I joked. "Oh? I don't!" Jamie remained on all fours but pushed Rosco away from her rear end – the playful little dog took that as a sign to just keep trying. "This morning it seemed like you didn't mind it all that much," I reminded her with a smile on my face. "Gross! Mom" Jamie gave me a look that I knew well – it was the old Jamie from before the training whenever her brother would show her something disgusting that amused him. "I am sorry hon, I was just kidding." Now I felt embarrassed that I came across sounding like this naughty nympho. "I didn't mean it like that – yes I did get into cleaning you this morning – it's just I don't know, it's hard to talk about." She had managed to persuade Rosco to leave her alone. "Trust me when I say that I understand what you mean. We have shared a lot together and I feel like we have an open line of communication about it – but I still think that it's easier to just do it than to discuss it sometimes." I admitted. "Do you want me to ... you know?" she motioned her head to signal she was willing to clean my pussy and ass with her tongue. "I thought you were a stickler about having to speak in the most vulgar and clear manner and all that?" I winked at her. "Okay, this coming from 'Mrs. I have to take a poop'," She smiled as she playfully reminded me I said 'poop' instead of 'shit' out of habit. "I knew right when I said that that I had fucked up – I half expected you to surrender me to your father for punishment." I had to wonder if it was habit or I just knew I could get away with it. "No, I figured you should be the one to do that," Jamie explained before taking a deep breath, "So would you like me to get behind you and clean your ass and pussy with a tongue bath?" I smiled again because since I was facing her she couldn't see behind me. "Rosco beat you to it," I grinned. She looked over my shoulder "Gross, mom!" but it was much more light-hearted than the first time she said it. I shrugged "What? Would you have rather done it? He liked it." I grinned that there was no harm in letting him lick my bottom. "You think this is bad? You should let Jerry Cooper suckle your titties and make a stinky in his diaper." Jamie looked confused while I swung around to put my tits over the dog bowl and began squeezing and tugging them. A tiny stream of milk squirted out almost immediately and hit the stainless steel bowl. My daughter did the same over her bowl and we talked a little more. I was mostly concerned about how she'd hold up if we really did full prostitution. "You don't think taking it up the ass is full prostitution," She said. "Point well taken," I admitted. "I have to admit when I first started doing it I had this 'ohmygawd I can't do this" feeling' but if you try to relax it's pretty enjoyable." She said. "Enjoyable?" "Okay, not usually but I get it, I am your baby and you want to protect me. You will try to find any way you can to shield me from the big bad world out there, but we are in this together – and I am DTF." She said very plainly. "DTF?" I asked. "Down to Fuck, it's what a lot of kids say at school." She explained as if I was from another century and she was explaining what everyone in modern times already knew. I remember doing the same to my own mother at her age. I wanted to circle back to find out the times when Jamie thought it had been enjoyable- we might as well talk about the positive stuff. We were both kneading and squeezing our nipples over the dog dish as if this were a perfectly normal thing for us to be doing when I heard the sliding glass door open. I heard another familiar voice with Bill. I whispered to Jamie "Oh God, will this woman please GET A LIFE!" I could hear her complain that she needed to leave Mr. Snips inside because Rosco is such a bad influence on him as she walked out into our fenced in backyard. Jamie whispered back "I think she is too busy fucking with ours" I was surprised to hear my daughter cuss when it didn't relate to a body part. She dutifully reminded me "White alert, mom" and smiled up at her dad and Victoria Waxerman who regarded us like finding two snakes slithering in the grass. "Victoria has some questions about when we sent you over to be punished at her house on Sunday. I told her you two were out here because you lost your job, and Jamie got suspended." Bill didn't really have to explain – I knew was already the subject of her scorn but I could tell he was already amused at the old lady's shock level. Seeing us naked – painted like puppies with ribbons in our hair in our backyard was a new one for even us. If I had gone to a neighbor's house who was doing this I am not sure how I would react – but standing outside shaking my finger at them and looking derisive wouldn't have been my option. On some level she has to know we are doing some of this just to fuck with her head – I mean she has too right? "I told your husband I don't even want to know how you lost your job and were kicked out of school. It was probably something disgusting and scandalous!" she said right off the bat. It was obvious to me she wanted to know in glorious detail what happened so I went first. "I was fired because I was caught masturbating my asshole and cunt on the floor of my office and then after I was caught I ran through the office that way, Ma'am." That wasn't exactly how it happened but I thought it was close enough. Jamie looked at me with a grin. "I was kicked out of school because I promised blowjobs to three football players to let me dance in body paint during the half-time show. My dad pled for them to let me stay in school but when the Principal came to tell me the good news I was caught giving them head in the boy's bathroom." I could sense there was a competitive vibe that Jamie was trying to top my story. Victoria was completely beside herself and at a loss for words. "Don't worry Ma'am, my father is homeschooling me and my mother until we improve – that is why we are out here." Jamie offered to fill in the silence. "What could you possibly learn by cavorting out here like a wild beast – reveling in your nakedness and wanton behavior?" "It's not like that at all Ma'am," Jamie was ready for that question. Her tone wasn't defensive at all – more like explaining to someone who might be curious about it. "The men of the house wisely keep us naked out here so that we do not get clothes dirty and sweaty, or try to hide any food or comforts from the house. We shave all our hair off and present our cunts and asses so that they can tell we haven't been playing with ourselves to pass the time." "Whenever I pay your house a visit you haven't a stitch of clothing on" Victoria observed. "That's true Ma'am, a few weeks ago my father and brother went through our clothes to decide what we could keep. It is all in a box marked "sluts" in the front room. We remain naked until given permission to dress even when in the house – this way if we get aroused while doing chores they can punish us and put our minds on our duties." Victoria sounded almost impressed. She thought out loud, "I can see the practical side as you go about earning absolutions for your prideful vanity and disgusting wickedness. Such a practice at our own house would be far too tempting for my nephews- there would be no outlet for the carnal lusts they would collect in observing such discipline." It sounded as if she were weighing the pros and cons – but for who? Delilah I hoped. I could just be reading too much into what she said. She might have just been explaining why the trailer trash bumpkins she considers us to be can do it and they could not at the Waxerman house. "HAVE you been playing with yourselves?" Bill made a show of turning our butts towards him to inspect, "These cunts do look a little wet." He looked over at Mrs. Waxerman for a condemnation of his use of the words 'cunt' but Bill could do no wrong in her eyes. "I let Rosco lick my pussy a little, Sir." I instantly regretted saying that as soon as I heard myself say it. I was fucking with Victoria's head and trying to shock her but as a Dog Lover and a Tee-totaller I thought I had just gone over the imaginary line. I have to wonder what I am going to do when this training is all over and she stops by – that should be interesting. Mrs. Waxerman took in a deep breath after a short litany about what a disgusting pervert I was before asking Bill "So how do you punish her for that behavior?" There was little doubt her question was more of a prompt that Bill SHOULD punish me for that. Bill kept a straight face and pretended to be the simple, hard-working patriarch of the family that Victoria saw him as. The fact that he paused while thinking of his responses only reinforced the ideal father-figure Mrs. Waxerman envisioned. "Hold those asses apart so I can have a look," Bill squatted down to give me a long look-over and whiff of my pussy while we both held ourselves in our morning inspection position. "Why did you encourage Rosco to lick your backside, Wendy?" I decided to go for honest since I was still feeling like the humiliation was playing xylophone down my spine. "You gave us permission to piss and shit Sir, but then you went inside and since we had no toilet paper. I didn't know what to do." "I offered to lick her cunt and asshole clean, Sir." Jamie piped right in excitedly. "You are SUCH a brown-noser!" I couldn't resist a little joke and I could tell from the look on her face she got my double-meaning. I couldn't see Victoria or Bill's face since by now we were pretty much face down in the grass – ass up. "Okay well in that case, since you didn't know what to do that is okay I guess" Bill was munching on some ice. It was already very sunny and I could feel the sun warming my thighs and ass and I was craving some ice. He is so lucky he can get it anytime he feels thirsty. "Are you sure you wouldn't punish her for that?" Victoria's question was more of an insistence that he should. "Oh," Bill played right along "You know if you weren't here right now, I probably would have let that slip off my mind. I am so glad you stopped by." There is something Mrs. Waxerman probably never hears without sarcasm "I am so glad you stopped by". She graciously thanked him and Bill continued "You came over here though to question my daughter about Sunday night? That takes precedence. I don't want to take up your time while I correct my wife's bad behavior." "Nonsense! My children are home attending to their studies in a proper Christian environment. You should apply the rod while the offense is still fresh in her mind." Victoria said in her shrill, annoying half-southern, half-victorian teacher accent. I wanted to look up because I would have expected to see her nephews peeping through the fence holes but I didn't dare. I kept my head pressed to the ground, "I apologize for embarrassing you like this Sir in front of Mrs. Waxerman, but she is right, I should be punished right away for it." What was I saying? God I am so confused at times – but I think at times Jamie eggs me on and I get competitive with her. "You should keep these two separated – I am concerned that her mother's influence will make this one just as rotten." Victoria advised my husband. "Actually, Rosco licked my pussy and asshole first Sir," Jamie admitted with a purity of spirit in her tone that made her very disgusting admission sound so natural and innocent. She added "He mostly was trying to sniff" as if that was some consolation – but it sounded more like she was trying to ask for clemency for Rosco than for herself. "The audacity!" Victoria sounded exasperated. "What are THESE? Sexual toys?" she was looking at something on Jamie's side. "Those are our tail-plugs, Ma'am" Jamie responded enthusiastically. "What purpose do those serve besides your amusement?" Victoria sounded skeptical and angry. "It helps to act as a constant reminder we are as low as the Dog in the hierarchy of the house, Ma'am." I could not let Jamie get all the best lines in. I interjected that one more out of a sense of competition with my daughter to shine on Mrs. Waxerman. "If our assholes are plugged we can't stick anything in them either," Jamie one-upped me with her response. She added "But if you are going to cane us, it's not fair we have protection over our sensitive assholes, so I understand if you don't want them to be put in." she sounded like the perfectly submissive little innocent (and perhaps she really was on some level). "Have you no shame to talk to me like that?" Mrs. Waxerman didn't wait for an answer. She rubbed the rubber part of the plugs on our pussies to lubricate them and plunged them back into both our asses. "You won't tell US what you do not mind or do mind! You think we want to see those obscene holes of yours?" I think she is growing to feel more comfortable treating us like total garbage. "No Ma'am, I know my father and you get no pleasure from seeing our bald cunts and wide assholes. He is simply doing his fatherly duty of keeping us in line and he knows that those parts of our body deliver the punishments more effectively than a rod to the ass cheeks or back." Jamie was laying it on kind of thick. I wanted to signal her to dial it down just a notch – but at the same time I was getting caught up in playing with Victoria's head. I was thinking of what I could say to top my daughter's last explanation – and I promise this was totally not intentional but I 'Frippped' an obvious fart of her own. "How dare you break wind in front of me!" Victoria declared in her most pretentious voice. I answered "If I had known it was your turn, I would have waited, Ma'am" with a straight face. However, Bill and Jamie couldn't contain their laughter. I had just delivered a line from Austin Powers except I got it wrong and they were laughing at how silly it sounded. I have to admit to giggling a little too. "Do you think this is funny?" Victoria demanded. "No, not at all Ma'am. It's just recently I've been eating a lot of dog chow and it makes me gassy." which was totally the truth. Jamie –bless her heart fripped a loud fart too. I am positive it was intentional because aside from a little trapped air when she is getting fucked or taking a poop I never heard the girl pass wind before. "I am so sorry Ma'am, I know we are nasty sluts with nasty asses, but it's from having the tails in for so long. The air pressure just builds up and around the edges of the plug." It was my turn to contain my laughter. I was so thankful I had my face buried in the ground and Mrs. Waxerman couldn't see my face turning red from trying to stifle my amusement at the ridiculousness of the situation. "Do you see what I have to deal with on a daily basis, Mrs. Waxerman? That is why I've had to go to extreme measures with my wife and my daughter" Bill even put a little country into his accent to play it up. "Please! Call me Victoria. I do indeed understand that dealing with women such as these must try your patience." "I suppose THOSE are to keep their other orifices occupied?" She stabbed a bony finger at the double-headed dildos. I couldn't tell from her tone if she was being sarcastic or asking a legitimate question. "My mother and I were playing train." Jamie said innocently and made a "WHOO-WHOO" steam engine sound as she pumped her fist. I smirked but I could hear Bill kick her rump – hard. "I am sorry Sir for teasing Mrs. Waxerman. I know you said we should NEVER do that." Jamie was laying on the apologetic innocent act very thick and I could hear in how she spread out the word 'NEVER' she really meant 'ALWAYS'. Mrs. Waxerman didn't hear the subtext but she dropped her question – no doubt assuming the very worst about us. "Ma'am, are you sure you want to stay here and watch me administer the punishment? It is going to be a brutal 50 strikes to the ass, tits and cunt for each of them, out here in the hot sun. I don't think a lady of your upbringing should be exposed to such a thing." I am sure Bill just made Victoria's day when he said that. I swallowed hard because Bill had learned some really nasty tricks he could do with fifty lashes. "NONSENSE!" Victoria signaled a pretentious note of joy in her tone. "I am no stranger to whoopings and disciplines. My father lined us up whether we were mischievous or not and had us remove our knickers and receive the rod – lest we be spoiled." I couldn't see but I imagined she had just raised one finger as she preached the virtues of her upbringing. "There is nothing you can do to discipline them that would offend my sensibilities although I wish more men were as sensitive to my feelings as you are Mr. Taylor." I could have almost choked on that saccharine sweet tone she took with my husband. "Yes, but I plan to have them balance on their toes on wooden chocks, while I hang weights to their piercings." Bill said apologetically – the little devil wasn't sorry at all. He was fucking with her head. "That is a bit unorthodox – I suppose I could observe and give you some friendly advice should you wish me too." "What do you say Wendy? Do you mind if Victoria observes you and your daughter getting punished for your wickedness?" "No Sir, anyone you would like to witness my humiliation only strengthens my conviction to be a better wife." I sounded like a Stepford Wife. I was just waiting for Mrs. Waxerman to not believe any of this – but she was eating it up. "Did you not say yesterday that you didn't think Mrs. Waxerman's countrified opinions were worth a damn?" I thought my jaw was going to come unhinged – I was so shocked Bill put me on the spot like that. I was glad she couldn't see my face frozen half way between hysterical laughter and abject terror. "I believe when Mom was serving your frozen TV Dinners what she said was that Mrs. Waxerman would never approve of these punishments because she would think we are being turned on and amused by them." Jamie offered completely out of the blue when I failed to answer. I knew she was making it all up because I hadn't given the guys a TV dinner since this started. "A TV Dinner?" Victoria was flabbergasted by the notion of feeding big, strong Bill Taylor a TV Dinner, "You are a horrible mother, a bad example to your daughter and an even worse house keeper for your husband and son." – I knew she had some deeply seated notions about the role of men and women in a traditional household but she often bordered on misogyny. "I would think twice before correcting your father in front of a guest young lady!" Mrs. Waxerman spoke directly to my daughter and then added for my benefit "While I have no doubt a fallen woman such as yourself might take pleasure in being indecently paraded around and whipped, I am sure your husband will apply such measures that even YOU will have reservations about indulging in it for pleasure." Bill directed us to stand – my knees felt tight and ached from being on the ground all morning. "That is exactly why I have added these extra measures, Mrs. Waxerman." he had us stand on four solid but short wooden blocks that were spaced more than shoulder width apart. "Hands behind your heads you sluts, I don't want you playing with yourselves or trying to shield your body" He handcuffed our interlaced hands behind our heads. He must have enjoyed having so many new toys from Buford's store to play with. He made us wait on our tip-toes while he went inside to collect some other tools. He locked long spreader bars between our ankles. "This will keep them from closing their legs in order to protect their sensitive naughty bits" Bill was having too much fun with our discomfort. I could already feel my thighs starting to shake from holding this position. I wondered if the Waxerman boys were watching – who am I kidding? They were almost ALWAYS watching in the backyard and now that we were eight inches off the ground standing on the chalks who knows who else could see us. "I usually don't gag them because I want them to admit their wrong doing but I don't want their coarse language to offend you." He started to wrap a leather O-ring gag around my neck. "Nonsense, I know these two cannot help but use filthy language." She stopped him and he unsnapped it from my neck as he slapped my ass. "Thank Mrs. Waxerman!" he demanded of me. "Thank you Ma'am for permitting me to remain ungagged so that I can plead forgiveness." The good book says women should remain silent in the churches. They are not allowed to speak, but must be in submission, as the Law says - In book one Corinthians 14:34. I had no idea how many meanie-butt passages were in the Bible but it always seemed like the ones she quoted were designed to justify smacking my bottom – why is that? I had to take her word that was in the Bible but I made a mental note to check when I am no longer under training. "This is not church, but they WILL be in submission," Bill tapped my knee with a wooden dowel causing me to almost lose my footing and fall off when it startled me. He ordered me to continue and explain what I am being punished for. Victoria nodded in acceptance of Bill's explanation. "I believe I am being punished for allowing Rosco to lick my cunt and asshole until I got aroused and encouraging my daughter to do the same?" if it mattered to Victoria that it was my daughter who was licked first – she said nothing about it. "What happens if you fall off the chocks?" he stabbed the end of the dowel into the meaty part of my tit while he walked in circles around me. "You start over, Sir?" I guessed. He used the dowel to strike me squarely in between my slit "Precisely!" "Should I be counting these, Sir?" I reminded him. "This?" he whapped my butt with the wooden dowel "Oh you think I would use something this small for an ass" he swatted my ass again "This wide?" I swear I couldn't see Victoria's face but I thought I heard the old biddy giggle at my expense. "No Sir, I would never presume you would." I was starting to get a little frightened now that Bill was getting dramatic. "Let me introduce you to Mother-in-Law!" He held up a long wooden rod with the word 'mother-in-law' in raised but blunted metal squares. The kind you would see on a bracelet a punk rocker might wear. He put it to my mouth and I kissed it with my tongue. "Tell her why you do that to an implement of your punishment?" Bill asked - I had no idea why I did that, but I knew he was prompting me to make it up. "I must be thankful to the instrument of my deliverance from wickedness, Sir?" I just strung a bunch of words that I thought Victoria would like to hear together and to my benefit she seemed to brighten. "I shall have to remember that, thank you." I thought she was talking to me since I was the one who had just made it up. I was glad she was standing behind me and couldn't see my face curl up in frustration when she addressed "MISTER Taylor" for that gem of wisdom. "Think nothing of it, please you've helped us so much in improving our marriage and trying to keep the females under control that it is the least I could do." Bill was rubbing it in – I guess I don't blame him. "This is my favorite part" He had never done this to us before but he pretended it was a regular ritual in our discipline. He attached gator clips to the pierced hoops in our tits that had weighted lead balls like fishing sinkers with little spikes on them on the end of strings. Every time we moved or swayed slightly they would dangle on our tummy and jab us slightly. He then took a much larger weight that was almost a half-pound and threaded it through the hoops in my clit and let it dangle on a string between my legs "Comfortable, honey?" I had grit my teeth at first, wondering if this thing was going to pull off my pussy lips but it surprisingly held very well. "No Sir, I am not comfortable this way" "Good, that is the idea." He slapped my butt and attached the same weight to my daughter. "These two used to argue about which one was getting preferential treatment, so my solution was to give them each equal measures." "You indulge them too much, Bill Taylor." Victoria inspected us as she walked around to our front. "They should be grateful for whatever they get and accept the justice you mete out." "That is what I have been saying but you know how stubborn they can be." He slapped me on the back of the head and pulled my tongue out – then slipped a clothespin on my tongue. "Isn't that right, honey?" "Yesfff sthir, we can be berry, berry stuffornth" I said spitting saliva while the clip held my tongue out past my lips. He adjusted it so I could talk a little more understandably and then applied the same treatment to Jamie. It felt like a red ant biting me on the inside of my mouth but now at least I was not talking like Daffy Duck "Stuffering Succotash" or is that Porky Pig? It's funny what you think about when you are about to get your clit whacked until it's numb. I was already starting to regret teasing Waxerman this way – the weights were bouncing on my chest and slowly back and forth pulling my pussy lips down with them between my legs. My mouth had gone dry and the sun was directly in my eye when the first lash from Mother in Law hit me on the ass cheeks. "One Sir, thank you very much" I counted boldly. It hurt but it bit deeply into the muscles of my ass and I had definitely built up a good tolerance there - I clenched my ass-cheeks to prepare for another. "Unclench that asshole!" Bill warned and even though I apologized and quickly relaxed my cheeks he parted my ass and spit on my sore butthole. Then he slid the stainless steel metal beauty I was later to call 'Passport' in my butt. It was a heavy stainless steel egg and it was really heavy. If I thought that double-headed dildo pushed my 'gotta poop' button this thing was setting off the alarms inside me – I was just glad I had been able to take a dump right before this. I could feel my eyes bulge just a little bit as he gave it a flick and it made a 'tink' sound. It has a fake diamond jewel on the head so that if it's pushed all the way in you see a half-dollar sized diamond sticking out of the asshole – It looks a bit like the center of a sunflower blossom with the rim of the asshole ringing it. He bought them that night at the Adult Megastore without showing us- I guess it was his 'surprise'. I know this not because I'm flexible enough to bend backwards and see my own. I know this because I eventually saw the matching plug he inserted into my daughter's asshole. I heard her draw in a sharp sigh and thank him. He told her its name was 'license'. "Sir when you told me I needed to start studying for my license, I had no idea this was the test." Jamie joked in that pleasing and adorably positive way she has. He slapped her butt "Smart ass," he said while we remained standing on our tip-toes on the wooden blocks. "I suppose you think I am over-indulgent with my wife and daughter on their body jewelry?" He asked Mrs. Waxerman. "On the contrary I see it as very practical. They are going to adorn themselves with body jewelry in their desperate attempts for attention from the opposite sex anyway. You might as well give them one that exposes the tenderest region of their posterior so that no part of their bottom is hidden from your rod. It also helps make them not seem obscene when viewed from this angle." She said very much like a school-teacher giving a lecture. I've seen these booty-plugs from behind and they look obscene and draw the eye – so I suppose that is a matter of opinion. "I was going to wait until I felt you earned them but since Mrs. Waxerman is here I thought now was as good a time as any to apply them to you." Bill struck Jamie's ass hard with his heavy paddle. Jamie yelped the teensiest yelp and said "One Sir, thank you very much, I am so glad Mrs. Waxerman approves of our matching butt plugs." I heard snickering coming from the fence – the Waxerman boys. If Victoria heard her nephews she said nothing of it. Bill swung his heavy club into my tits making me groan as I thanked him for number two. We repeated this several more rounds and periodically he would ask a question "Are you still turned on and aroused?" to which one of us would have to plead and beg no. "I bet if I feel that cunt it will be dripping wet," he ran his finger down my slit and what I bet was more fear-sweat than my own cum he made me lick off the tip of his finger while making 'tsk, tsk, tsk' sounds with his teeth. "You two are too comfortable, let me see what I have in my toy box," Bill had a modified tackle box for fishing that he had transferred a lot of the more easily lost smaller implements of our shame and humiliation. He took out a "snouting tool" and showed it to us. "Okay little piggies" it had two blunted hooks then went in the nostrils and then using elastic wire he pulled it over our heads –giving the impression that are nostrils were wide and turned up like little piggies. I could hear the Waxerman boy's laughing and for once I was a little more concerned about what trouble they would get into if she caught them than we were. Bill might have heard them too because he began swinging the flat end of the club against our asses and making a loud –THWAP- noise as we counted in rapid succession. He was hitting us on the ass, tits and sometimes near our pussy but not directly on the lips. The weighted balls attached to our nipples and cunts were swinging and added a little discomfort when they hit our skin but it was more just the consistent weight of them that was the hard part. Bill would every now and then give me a swift strike to the belly or the back when it probably looked like I might fall off the wooden chock. He would remind me if I fell off that we would start over and I knew he was serious. The sun and the pain had coated my body in a light sheen of my own sweat and tears. Mother-in-Law as a paddle is a beast and I was feeling particularly humbled by the time we reached fifty. There is this transformation you go through after you've endured so much pain where you become 'meek'. At least that is the case for me – the emotional toll and the physical one all rolled together made me legitimately not want to defy ANYONE for ANYTHING. "I'll be a good slut, Sir." I begged when he had finally smacked the snot out of us fifty times! I think once I saw a spray of piss come right out of Jamie when he gave a solid stroke to the ass on number thirty six or thirty seven. Jamie was mewling and pleading – as strong as she can be I can't be sure if she had that epiphany but right then I would have beat Bill's clothing on a rock to wash them. I was his woman and he had 'dominated' me in all ways. I guess that goes back to the primal days when cavemen used to bonk you on the head and carry you by the hair back to their cave. I cannot say why it worked but any ounce of gumption and snark was completely empty from the very bottom of the core of my being to the top. It would come back – it always did. However, for the time being I was intent on being a good girl and so was Jamie. He tested my cunt by swiping a finger down my slit. He pretended it wasn't wet as he nodded "So what is it you want to talk to them about?" he asked Mrs. Waxerman with a smile. ------- Chapter 18: The difference between knowing your shit, and knowing you're shit Note to reader: The story returns to the original narrative voice. Bill has just punished his wife and daughter in front of Victoria Waxerman (and her nephews who were peeping). The Star Count was removed as it has been suspended temporarily – while the girls earn a trip for their father. Jamie and Wendy were coated in a thin layer of their own sweat from the beating they had just taken and the hot sun. Bill led them inside by the leashes and let them walk – expecting them to thank him. Bill let them get a glass of water in the kitchen to share while he and Victoria chatted and supervised them. "So you really must keep an eye on these two or they will get up to mischief?" Victoria who absolutely loved gossip and dirty laundry was in her own personal gold mine. "Yes, I am afraid it can get that bad. These two sluts would grab a coke or a beer out of the fridge if we didn't count every one of them and watch them drink their water." Bill said solemnly. "It's true Ma'am," Wendy had just taken a deep gulp of the water "I am thankful my husband is here during the day to keep me from running amok and having a Pepsi." Wendy sounded serious but she was laying it on thick as part of the family's "White Alert" policy around Mrs. Waxerman. They would exaggerate their situation and try to shock her – they had often joked this would also be perfect for any Jehovah's Witnesses who came by. "Please be respectful and remain in silence while your husband is talking, Dear." Victoria's condescension for Wendy had only grown. There had been a time only a few weeks ago that Victoria would have been polite to Wendy's face but now there wasn't a shred of respect. Wendy had been everything Victoria disliked in modern women – a career woman with an active lifestyle. There was very little Victoria could have spread in the way of gossip about Wendy that was worse than the truth. She had always assumed Wendy was a poor cook and focused on her exercise classes instead of spending time with her family- an assumption that wasn't far from the truth. However, now that Wendy was standing naked in her own kitchen with the weights still attached to her pussy and tits from her most recent beating – she reminded Victoria of a lion who had all their teeth and claws pulled. Bill had removed the tongue clip and nose spreader "Snouter" that he had on the girls but he left in their new stainless steel butt plugs and the weights. The handcuffs had been unclasped so they could hold their glass of water together. "Last Sunday I understand you sent your daughter to my house to be punished. I had some questions for Jamie." Victoria explained. Jamie glanced at her father for some sign of what she should say but his face was stony and impassive. He was secretly enjoying watching this spectacle unfold and was playing his role to its hilt. "Yes Ma'am," Jamie's perky boobs bounced as she snapped into an attentive stance to listen. "You let my niece and nephews punish you?" Victoria asked disapprovingly. "Yes Ma'am, they said that you had shown them the proper ways to discipline and I knew that given how much you instilled honesty into them that I could trust them implicitly to tell the truth." Jamie's voice was naïve and perky. Victoria wouldn't admit to strangers that her little angels of nephews were any less than perfect and certainly not to the Taylors. The look on Mrs.Waxmerman's face however told a different tale – that she knew they could be little devils at times. "Would you like me to have them squat or kneel? I don't want them to use their eyes to try to manipulate you into feeling sorry for them." Bill interrupted. "Oh that is so thoughtful, you don't have to do that," Mrs. Waxerman said but then after Bill didn't she added "but since you are probably going to do it anyway, you can have them kneel." Bill took that as his cue to clap his hands "Kneel, sluts!" and his wife and daughter got back down on the floor with their legs apart, sitting on their heels with hands resting on their thighs in a submissive pose. "If you lie about this next question, I intend to ask your father to repeat the punishment you just received is that clear?" Mrs. Waxerman looked down her nose at Jamie on the floor. "Yes Ma'am, you know I will always be caught in my deceit, thank you for the warning though as it keeps from submitting to temptations to be dishonest." "Girls born to mothers like yours have a natural tendency to be perfidious – it is just in your nature," Waxerman's tone was snooty and sure of her prognosis about Jamie. "Did you sit upon my 18th century antique broomstick?" Jamie spit a little water out of her nose and mouth back into the glass she was holding. She did not expect the question. She nodded yes as she added "I asked that they put something into my asshole so as to protect your nephews from my obscene muscle contractions during the beating." This was actually a lie but Jamie kept a straight face. She didn't want to get the Waxerman kids in trouble. She did a Kegel exercise that she had been practicing to flex her pussy lips to accentuate her point. "I presume you completely disrobed for this, what did you use to cover your..." Victoria was searching for a word that sounded more genteel and Jamie offered "Cunt?" "How repugnant, yes dear. If that is what you call it." Mrs. Waxerman's head was shaking just a little from side to side as if she were growing more annoyed and uncomfortable. "As I was a virgin I thought it improper to put anything in my cunt, so I asked the boys to forgive my offense and remained bent over to present my ass, Ma'am." Jamie stumbled a little with that explanation. "YOU a virgin?" Victoria snorted at the absurdity of the notion. "Yes Ma'am, my father inspected my hymen daily – I assure you I only used my asshole and mouth to serve my betters." Victoria could hardly argue with what Jamie had just said. "Yet that status has changed?" Victoria sounded curious. Bill said "The boy she went out with last night got her cherry, but on the plus side watch this." Bill turned one of the kitchen dining room chairs upside down so it's two back legs were facing up. "Girls, have a seat" Wendy looked at Jamie with concern. "Are you two hesitating to fulfill the wishes of the man of the house to make me look bad in front of company? Because we can go back outside and give you an attitude adjustment again." Wendy was the first to stand "No Sir, thankfully Mrs. Waxerman is not known for gossip for surely anyone else would spread rumors about how lazy and thoughtless we are." she slowly backed herself on to the tip of the chair – attempting to avoid the string and weight. Jamie was copying her mother's hesitant stance. Bill pushed down on his wife's shoulder's "Really push down and put all the weight on the chair." Wendy's pussy was balancing on the corner of the chair leg as she slowly slid down it centimeter by centimeter. "See, now two sluts can sit on one chair." Bill smiled at Victoria as the girls uncomfortably squirmed on the chair legs. "Well that must be handy." Victoria said politely. "Not really, we don't normally let them sit on furniture- too many snail trails." Bill smiled but Victoria ignored the crude joke. "It reminds me of a Spanish horse." Victoria said of the cruel looking seating arrangement before looking Jamie in the eye, "So my boys did not have carnal relations with you, is what you are telling me?" Jamie sounded like she was holding her breath and exhaling as she answered "As I said Ma'am, I was a virgin until last night." Jamie was a terrible liar but technically that was the truth. She had a broad grin on her face as she backed herself further onto the chair leg. "That matches what Delilah told me of that night. I would prefer that you make arrangements with me if you need punishment." Victoria said it directly to Wendy because it sounded like criticism and she certainly wouldn't say that to Bill Taylor. "Yes Ma'am, how foolish of me not to call in advance, please forgive our forwardness." Wendy said in a caring and apologetic manner. "It is very rude and ungrateful, but then what else can I expect from your kind?" Victoria fired back. Then she turned to Bill "If you could convince Wendy and Her daughter to wear something appropriate I would really love to have your family over for a home-cooked meal. I am sure you've not had one in a long time?" Victoria was all smiles and graciousness. "I would love too, Ma'am" Bill nodded as if doffing an invisible cap to her. "The thing is to get the girls to agree to the homeschool education during the day. They insisted Chris and I take them out to Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard so they could suck the dicks of strange men tonight." Bill said with a completely straight face – but he couldn't look Victoria in the eye. Victoria turned to Wendy "You put your own desires for twisted amusements, above your husband's and son's needs for a home cooked meal?" "Yes Ma'am, but please understand that Jamie and I are on a special diet and at night we only eat cum, so unless your sons were willing to donate we would probably go hungry." Wendy sounded a little bolder than in her past statements. Jamie reached over and pinched her mom's butt quietly to remind her to dial her attitude down. Jamie added to the fib "Yes Ma'am, male cum does wonderful things for our complexion and it helps keep the weight down. It's the latest thing out in Hollywood." Victoria harrumphed and retrieved Mr. Snips, who had left a pile of crap on the carpet in the living room, and left. "You two and your Hollywood fad diets, and your Thigh-masters Pilates classes with the tight spandex are using it all for fornication. I don't buy it, not a word of it." Yet it seemed to everyone else she was pleased to have her own theories about how wicked these women were confirmed. "The offer is always on the table, Mr. Taylor." she smiled politely and left the house without looking back. Bill laughed after Victoria was gone "Wow, that was pretty wild at the very end there." "Yes, well I guess the intensive submissive feelings I was feeling from the ungodly beating you just gave us were a little clouded by her constant beratement, Sir." Wendy explained asking "Please may we get off this chair, sir?" Bill hadn't actually noticed his wife's intense reinforcement of her submissive feelings from the recent beating and he was a little confused by her admission. He shook his head no and smiled. He had a lot of fun teasing Mrs. Waxerman and wasn't going to over-think what his wife just said. "Baby, we can go out tonight and do what you said, I think I would like that." Bill admitted about his wife's new idea. He had a smile on his face until he realized he meant to say "Maybe" and maybe it was Freudian or maybe it was just a slip of the lip. Wendy joked "Ooh you didn't call me cow-tits! I got called a Baby." "I meant Maybe Cow-tits and you know it" Bill smiled playfully as he gave his wife's ample nipple rings a tightening squeeze and twist. "Ooops, I did it again." Wendy sang an old Brittany Spears lyric in response to her husband's casual acceptance of his mistake. Weeks ago he probably would have tried to pretend he meant to say Baby because he used to see mistakes or apologies as signs of weakness, but now he had the confidence to admit and move on. Then again, weeks ago she would have screamed if she had vice-like nipple rings and someone gave them the kind of squeezing Bill just had. Instead, her sore bare nipples just bounced back into place when he released them. "I think it's Baby Hit me one more time." Jamie joined in the joke quoting the actual Brittany Spears lyric her mom had been thinking of earlier. Wendy smiled that her daughter had seemed to read her mind. Bill gave his daughter's tender nipples the same attention and squeeze and then slapped both of her tits as he released them. "They seem more full, that's good." "Can we get off this chair now to go milk Sir?" Jamie offered – hoping that he would let her end this painful exercise now that Waxerman was gone and considering how compliant they had been. "Nah, stay like that until Chris gets home then beg him. That bitch made me miss my computer time and I have a feeling we are gonna be out all night trying to feed you your special diet." Bill smirked and left the kitchen without looking back or a second thought for the den where his computer is. Wendy called out as her husband ignored her, "You know during white alerts you can't hold anything we say as a valid contract." she was half kidding and half hoping he wouldn't take all the promises they made when Mrs.Waxerman was there and make them do them. They had said some things about how life was around the house that they had completely made up but it had seemed so easy to picture life being like that fantasy-vision they painted to shock Victoria now that they had given the men authority over them. Bill was just laughing and walking as if he didn't hear what she said. "Great, do you think they will JUST feed us cum from now on, Mom?" Jamie asked seriously. She had just found a spot on the chair leg to balance her weight that she could stand. Wendy couldn't help but notice that despite the absurdity of the question it seemed completely natural coming from Jamie. Her daughter had the same look of concern she did her first day of high school that she knew which home room she was going too. There was a sort of "normal-ness" about this arrangement that Wendy wondered if she was just imagining. "You know that I would never have imagined in a hundred years that I would be fucking the same chair my daughter is and theorizing about my all cum diet back when I was a little girl in the corn fields of Indiana." Wendy shook her head with a little mirthful expression. "Would it really be worse than dog food?" She asked playfully with the scrunched up nose expression her daughter used to do so regularly. "No, I guess not, but what I wouldn't give for a cheeseburger!" Jamie brightened at the thought. Bill yelled from the den "I can hear you two sluts! Go near that fridge and I'll put you back outside." Wendy was about to say "Okay" when as if by cue Bill added the stipulation to his threat "You'll do it ON the chair legs." Wendy closed her mouth picturing him sending the two of them outside walking the chair between their own legs. She whispered to Jamie "With mayonnaise, lettuce and tomato." and a wink. They whispered and joked with each other to get their minds off the crushing pain on their pussies from their weight forcing them down the chair leg. They joked about how she would pretend to be disgusted but would really be excited. Wendy told her daughter she was surprised she could tell lies that way considering how she felt about deception. "In Mrs. Waxerman's case I guess I see the exception because she wants to believe all the worst about us. If we confirm it for her it only seems to make her happy so I guess I don't see the problem there." Jamie qualified that with "I hope I don't sound like a bubble-headed bimbo?" "Isn't that what you are supposed to sound like to her?" Wendy smirked and the two groaned silently enduring the chair legs pushing further into their already sore cunts. "I can't take much more of this, I feel like my nipples are going to explode from all the pressure going on in my body right now." Wendy finally admitted to her daughter. "I am so glad you said that, I thought you would think I was being a whiny baby if I complained!" Jamie responded with a relieved gasp. "You? Never. We made it through the Mother-in-Law outside, but this is the worst. Let's beg your father's permission to get off these chair legs before they split us in two!" Wendy reassured her daughter. "Agreed, I feel like this chair is reaching parts of my womb that Brad could never have put it in last night." Jamie's lips were parted as she sucked in air and endured herself slowly falling backwards as she sat on the chair leg with legs apart. "That's TMI!" Wendy gave her a wink – Using one of Jamie's terms for 'Too Much Information'. Then she began to beg and wail, "Sir, Please? Can we get off this chair leg? We can't stand it?" and Jamie joined in too but either Bill wasn't listening or he wasn't moved. "Your father is probably engrossed in his game, let's pick it up together and move into the den." Wendy suggested lifting up her side of the chair and standing. "Will he punish us?" Jamie asked reluctantly. "Worse than this? I hope not." Wendy answered and with that Jamie joined her in moving themselves through the kitchen door into the den to beg Bill for leniency. "You know I can't just pause an online game right?" he answered their moans for relief. "Yes sir, but sitting on this wood really hurts! Please Sir I can't stand it." Wendy hadn't complained before about any of the things Bill had done to her and he had done some fairly heinous things to his wife this past two weeks. "It is supposed to hurt, Cow Tits. If it was fun I would be doing it instead of you." Bill only gave a sidelong glance at his wife and daughter writhing on the chair legs. "I understand Sir, and I know we are supposed to learn our lesson, but please? I beg you to at least let Jamie off her side. It's rubbing us raw and it really hurts sir!" Wendy was rubbing her thighs and holding her stomach just to keep her mind off the increasing intensity of her slow descent on the chair leg. "Fine, hold on until I get back to Imperial Fleet and then I'll find something else for you two whiners to do with those piss factories of yours." Bill made his wife and daughter wait – tapping their feet and fanning their fingers vainly waiting for permission to stand up. "Oh yeah, you can get off them." Bill finally said when he finished logging his character out. His wife and daughter both resisted the urge to complain that he could have given them the permission a few minutes earlier if it was that simple a matter. "Pull the cunt flaps open so I can have a look" Bill squatted down and dabbed his finger in his wife's pussy first while she held herself open. "No tearing or bleeding," he sounded disappointed as he checked his daughter and found the same result. "You two sluts think you can get the shit fucked out of you tonight, but you can't stand a little hole training on your precious cum buckets?" Wendy wanted to defend how awful the mini-Spanish horse torture had been but opted instead to satisfy Bill's ego with "Would you like to fuck us – both?" adding the last word with emphasis on Jamie "We could use the practice with a real cock Sir." "You would like to watch me fuck my own daughter, wouldn't you?" Bill asked angrily. Wendy wanted to point out he had made her suck his cock and fucked her in the ass already but instead just said "Yes Sir, we are both your whores, and your daughter needs to practice with a real cock that is going to shoot cum and everything." Jamie looked uncomfortably around – it wasn't every day you hear your mother offer your pussy to your father. Bill looked at his daughter still covered in a fine, misty sheen of sweat, "You two pigs stink. Chris and I will fuck you later after you beg for our cocks, now get down on all fours and both of you lick my dick and suck my balls together. Wendy and Jamie didn't hesitate – Wendy unzipped his pants as they went down on him. They kissed each other between licks and Bill moaned in ecstasy as he watched his wife and daughter's face lovingly tend to his dick. "You two cock hounds are going to get plenty of this tonight, Bill stood in his living room with his pants pulled down watching the two of them service his dick greedily. "You seem to be looking forward to getting fucked with your daughter, aren'cha slut?" Bill put a finger under Wendy's chin to lift her head up from the ball slurping she was doing. "You are going to fuck her anyway, I might as well be accepting and submissive, Sir." Wendy's explanation sound practical and considerate. Bill wasn't sure if he would have liked to hear, "Yes, Yes, I am a dirty mommy, please bury your bone in our soft wet pussies." but he wasn't entirely satisfied with her response. Bill slapped his wife hard on the tits and she instinctively let out a quiet gasp. "You don't tell me if I am going to fuck her or I am not," he demanded. "Beg me to fuck you both, tell me what a great cock I have." Bill stroked his wife's auburn colored hair softly with an edge of menace to his voice. "Please pump us both full of your rock hard cock, Sir. This little cocksucker has been a virgin for sixteen years and she needs a good, hard ride to break her in," Wendy knew Bill was testing her and it wasn't time to joke around or be informal. She held Jamie's head up to look at her father while rubbing his chest. "Please cum in our pussies Sir, we need a good rough fucking to keep us in line." "Are you going to want me to fuck you both when the training is over?" Bill asked cautiously. Wendy paused to give that some thought and Bill's face twisted into anger. He grabbed his wife's nipples and gave a yank and a twist upward "So you worship my cock when it benefits you, but when the training is over you won't?" he was seething. "I can't promise what Jamie will do, but I promise you Sir. I've learned a lot in the last week about being a better and more giving lover. You will always be able to fuck my ass. Pull my hair, cum in face and all the naughty things you like to do Sir," Wendy promised while Jamie fully deep-throated her father's cock. "She is a good little cock sucker, but she has been such a tease until now," Bill squeezed his daughter's nose hard between thumb and finger noting how sloped and angular it looked. It made her look stuck up. Bill wasn't saying it but he was conflicted in his feelings between wanting to punish the girls and with his guilt over dragging them through the mud. Bill liked to think of himself as a simple man with simple needs – beer, sports, computer games, sex and silence (and not necessarily in that order). He had on many occasions felt a rage at having been humiliated – not just during his time as Wendy and Jamie's puppet but even before that. He had been out of work and fell into a cycle of lazy days on the couch which only seemed to reinforce his feelings of worthlessness. When the tables turned and he could train the girls, he rarely felt guilty – they were the personification of all his mistakes and powerlessness. As time had passed and the girls not only embraced their discipline at his hands but surpassed his expectations, he would find himself admiring their strength. A part of him would get jealous over how they handled it together and he would use that anger to help him continue to act like an uncaring, sadistic drill sergeant. There were times of reflection when he felt guilty about hurting and humiliating them. He had wanted to let them out of the training a little early but now they had gone and made this new 'counter-offer' that would only up the stakes and send them both out to the streets to work as whores. He understood that it was a very practical offer because of their money situation but he also secretly felt jealous that they could be so selfless about their sacrifice. It was important to de-humanize them and see them as puppies, pigs, and whores but as he squished his daughter's nose she continued to gobble his cock and it secretly made him feel like he probably shouldn't be enjoying this so much. "You want your daddy to fuck that tight little pussy you have been guarding so carefully?" Bill growled. Jamie didn't answer – her bright blue eyes beamed acceptance at him as she continued throating his cock all the way to its base. Bill clutched her head and in a sudden explosion of ecstasy came in her mouth. His toes curled up and his fingers dug into the side of her head as he whispered 'no, no, no' but it was too late – he had shot his load. Jamie held her mouth open proudly – awaiting her father's order to swallow it. "Yeah, yeah, you got out of getting fucked this time by sucking me too good." Bill acted as if she had intentionally robbed him of his chance at fucking her – but he didn't seem very convincing to the girls. "Let me see you kiss that cum into your mom's fat face – she didn't do much to earn it though." Bill stood there with his pants unzipped and his cock quickly deflating while he watched Wendy and Jamie French kiss until Wendy felt she had it all and opened her mouth obediently before her husband. Bill didn't feel like talking (or thinking) any more. He walked over and selected two ring gags and attached them to Wendy and Jamie's head tightly while they kneeled in front of the stair case in the living room. He never gave Wendy permission to swallow – a little cum danced on the tip of her tongue through the matching O-ring gag her daughter had on. "You two cunts can sit in the living room where I can see you," Bill could see the staircase from the computer in the den but not inside the kitchen. "When your brother gets home you'll go over the counter-offer with him and then I'll probably be ready to fuck you again – but you better not suck me off so well that I cum first!" Bill warned. Jamie could only nod dutifully and make an 'ack' noise through the gag holding her mouth open in an "O" shape. Bill guided his wife to her feet and made her straddle the staircase rail. "I hope you are going to bitch that THIS is too hard for that fat cunt of yours?" he guided his wife over the rounded wooden bannister post and had her sit down on it. Wendy guided herself carefully but found that the wooden post accommodated her wet pussy perfectly. Bill shackled her feet around the bottom of the staircase together and then he cuffed her hands behind her back. The end result was that Wendy's knees were spread wide and obscenely as she balanced herself naked, bound and gagged on the staircase. Jamie knew that the other side of the staircase was intended for her and cooperated with her father as he posed and sat her legs wide on the end-cap of the stairs so that its entire mahogany length fit into her delicate pink slit. When Bill finished setting them up in an identical position he marveled at his work and gave his daughter's clit ring a tug and a pull so that it dangled a little further out of her body. "You look good like that. I know you are supposed to be dogs in the hot sun – I guess I just spoil you bitches from time to time. You've been good girls – now hang around and don't go anywhere." Bill patted his wife on the head and stroked his daughter's cheek as he returned his attention to his computer game. He didn't break or look over at the two women who writhed only slightly on the staircase – they had to remain well balanced or they would have fallen off. Hours passed and the girls gave each other furtive glances – both trapped in silence and unable to communicate with each other. Their discomfort at the position they were in grew until their muscles started to feel tense and painful but after what felt like several long and silent numbing hours – they actually grew used to it and no longer focused on it. "Hidey-Ho!" Chris walked in the door from school in a chipper mood and threw his books down on the living room floor. He immediately saw his sister and mom positioned on the staircase with knees wide apart – drool dripping down their chin from the gags on to their tits. "You look like a pair of gargoyles up there – I need to get a picture of this," he used his cell-phone (which had been Jamie's at one time) to snap a few pictures of the girls while laughing at them. Then he ignored their low wailing and gurgles to casually talk to his father for a little while – they mostly discussed the new computer game that had taken their fancy. They were intentionally ignoring the girls to further shame and humble them – and for the most part it was working. Bill had brought Chris up to speed on what had happened that day and eventually they decided to bring the girls down from the bannister posts. Chris had his sister by the waist and was pulling her off when he heard air sucking into her pussy and a familiar 'sploosh' sound – "You are getting your spit all over me, Queen Laqueefa" he commented, degrading Jamie by using a nickname he heard Cathy use for her. The girls had to be unshackled from the stairwell at the feet and wrists and then finally the gag was removed – leaving them panting and gasping. "God, it feels like my insides are bruised," Jamie held her lower tummy with her hand as if that would bring her some relief. "Your pink has turned purple, eh?" Bill's dry humor failed to put a smile on the girl's faces. Chris had the girls kneel on the living room floor as he went over his mom's counter offer - He wanted to get right down to business (now that he had made them wait). "As I understand it, you two cunts serve obediently per our agreement, but all challenges and stars are suspended until we are out of debt?" "With the understanding that your father and you will keep us focused on making money, Sir. If we can get out of debt by the weekend – your father will go to his internet forum convention." Wendy clarified while kneeling respectfully in front of her son and husband. "Keep you focused?" Chris sounded skeptical. "You and your father will try to get us as many 'clients'," Wendy searched for the right word to use for the men she was going to have to fuck. "You mean tricks, right Mom?" Chris's face had become less serious. "Yes Sir, you and your father will try to have us turn as many tricks as possible instead of the flashing and games that you would normally have us play for stars," Wendy swallowed hard as she added "But you will also keep us humble and give us affirmations to keep us from..." Wendy was trying to find a way to explain how the affirmations and constant discipline had made accepting the expectations on them much easier. "Don't worry, things won't get casual and chummy any time soon," Chris knew what his mother meant and added "We'll be disciplining you if you two get egos or start to slack off." And his mother shook her head in acceptance. Chris reached over their backs and prodded them forward on all fours. "Did I see the special gifts dad and I got for you?" "Yes Sir, my passport," Wendy admitted while her son pulled her ass cheeks apart to look. "And my license, Sir." Jamie chimed in. "Yeah, we were GOING to wait for some ceremony to give those to you," Chris's tone implying he wasn't entirely happy that his father went ahead and revealed the surprise. "I wanted clear ones so we could see up those poop chutes of yours, but Dad liked these better." "Speaking of which Sir, we have been up there on the stairwell for hours, I can only speak for me but can we be let outside to piss and shit?" Wendy was finding that the new butt plug constantly made her feel like she had to take a dump. "Gah, you girls are regular turd factories," Bill mocked outrage. "Yeah, you cunts can go, heel behind me." Chris started to walk his sister and mother outside to the backyard. Bill stopped him "Allow me, son. Take a load off." Chris was pleasantly surprised by his father's offer considering he had traditionally been the one to walk them. He had seen his mother and sister's disgusting squatting many times – but it always amused him. "I'll go with you, Dad." Bill smiled at his son and they walked the girls outside together. "You two have about two minutes to squeeze all the shit and piss you can out of those holes, then I think we need to start getting ready for your first night at the motel." "Have they shown you the slow shit, yet?" Chris sounded excited. "No son, I have no idea what that is," Bill looked half amused because by the look of concern on the girls' faces this was going to be unpleasant for them. "Get in position and tell Dad what it's all about," Chris demanded of his mother. "Yes Sir," Wendy and Jamie were both squatting on the balls of their feet near the rose bushes with their legs wide open. They put their hands behind their backs and pulled their ass cheeks apart. "Wait, why are you facing your fudge factories away from us? This is a slow shit." "I am sorry Sir, I just didn't think your father might want to see," Wendy may have subconsciously chosen to face away from her husband because while Chris laughed at this sort of thing she didn't think Bill had much interest in it and it felt more humiliating to do it in front of him because of that. "You didn't think? Are you WANTING a punishment?" Chris stomped a foot at his mother while she adjusted herself so that her asshole with the big red O tattooed around it's ring was prominently displayed before her husband and son. "Now explain what you are doing!" "This is hole training – Sometimes we slowly pump out a turd in front of Chris and," Wendy was having a hard time saying this, knowing her husband was listening. There was something extra humiliating about admitting it. "We clench our assholes around each turd and try to pull it back in or break it off and start another log down the sawmill as slowly as possible Sir." Bill could hear the obvious discomfort in his wife's voice – given she had been able to say so many humiliating things to Mrs. Waxerman and be berated all afternoon he knew this must be hard for. Truth be told, he really had no interest in seeing this. As the first crown of chocolate poop starting to part Jamie's pink asshole like a buttercup opening to blossom he thought it looked like soft-serve ice cream coming out of one of those self-serve machines in buffets on slow motion. "This is cute and all, but we really need to get to the motel if you bitches are going to work tonight." Wendy had just crowned the tip of her own turd out of her ass, as she held herself in the most humiliating position she had discovered to relieve herself in as she asked "But Sir, it's not even dark yet?" "I know they bleed, but are pussies vampires?" Bill asked incredulously of his wife. Wendy didn't know how to answer that question, she couldn't see if he was serious so she answered "I don't know what you mean Sir?" "They don't work until night-time?" Bill rephrased his question to his wife. "They do Sir, it is just that I thought it might be easier if we are walking up and down the street at night time." Wendy remembered her last night at the motel on Martin Luther King Blvd and how cars slowed down to get a good look at her. Some were looky-loos who would drive on and others were 'tricks' who wanted to fuck her. It had felt like being on display and the fact it had been dark outside seemed to give her a sense of security about dressing like a slut and parading up and down the street that way. Chris was already giggling as he usually did when he watched his mom and sister reverse race the slowest shit humanly possible. "Mom's looks like a cork-screw winding its way out, but look how smooth and perfect Jamie's is!" he was smirking with delight. "If you two cunts hadn't taken yourselves off the star system, I would probably have let you earn a star just for riding in the back of the truck totally naked until we get to Rahjid's Motel," Bill said ignoring his son's strange sense of humor. He had indulged him plenty of times before – but he had to admit watching his wife and daughter do something that must be completely humiliating made them seem so vulnerable that it was turning him on in an unexpected way. "I have such an uncomfortable boner right now," Chris said out loud to no one in particular. "I am going to miss this when the training is over." Wendy was turning a new shade of red - she could hear small pops and cracks from her ass as the air pushed it ever so slowly out and a tiny little fart while the men giggled. "I won't miss this part of it," she admitted out loud. "What part will you miss?" Bill asked but his wife didn't answer. He decided not to press the issue, but it dawned on him that there might be parts she MIGHT miss and changed the subject back to his original point. "So if we want you to do dares and games, you two are too good for it?" "It's not that we are too good for it, Sir. It's just that me and mom are going to be focused on earning the money we need and we are asking to suspend all those bizarre contests you two think up until then?" Jamie had a pleading yet pragmatic look on her face while she squirted a tiny lemon-colored stream of warm piss while simultaneously creating one long turd. "Clench and try to pull it back in!" Chris demanded The girls' buttholes puckered at the effort to grip their own turd and suck it back in, but neither could quite manage it. "Okay, I see the point of this now, yeah this is how I want you to do it every time unless given special permission." Bill sounded mildly amused. Wendy let out a small sigh of relief because she pictured herself being married to this man for the rest of her life and forever having this mental image of her doing this well into their old age – at the very least if he likes it, it may be better. She knew she had to do it now either way. "STOP!" Chris said with more urgency than necessary and the girl's both ceased the progress of the brown banana popping out of their butts. "Okay, continue" he laughed and they began again. "What if we can do the dares while on the training you just come up with a little reward?" Wendy said not acknowledging how surreal it was that her son just made her stop and start shitting again. It was if she were discussing a business matter calmly and rationally. "For example we might just agree to your dare if we leave for downtown after dark and ride in the back nude." Wendy held up a finger to add and stipulate "But no stopping OR driving through a fast food place – In exchange, you have to buy us a nice meal and neither of you can sit on it or do anything to it." Wendy added her final stipulation after noticing her son start to smile in anticipation of a loophole to the deal – he had a look of 'drat' as he snapped his fingers. "Okay, I like that - immediate incentives as opposed to stars." Bill stroked his chin with his fingers. "Look how shiny they both look." He said to his son. "Yeah I know right!" Chris became excited "You would think turds would be dull but when they shit on the ground it comes out slick and shiny, pretty cool huh?" Bill shook his head in amusement, "You know I am worried sometimes that you are rubbing off on me, Boy." he laughed. "That's a bad thing how?" Chris laughed mirthfully in response. "I am starting to wonder how it ever could be. I just never thought I'd be commenting on how shiny my wife's turds are." Bill was laughing. Wendy thought the exact same thing to herself silently as she dutifully came to the end of her log, "Permission to wiggle, Sir?" "Permission Denied" Chris had obviously trained them on this procedure when Bill wasn't paying attention. "Ass Face seems like she has another yard to go, you can dangle" Chris instructed his mother to just wait with the final bit of ass cheese dangling between her cheeks. Wendy looked at Jamie – who just shrugged her shoulders. Jamie used to only politely drop a tiny ball of poop, but since she started getting fucked – she had been leaving long logs. Jamie was just as surprised as everyone else. "You know Dad, I think family is kind of like ass cheeks." "How is that son?" Bill asked "Well a lot of shit comes between them, but they always come back together again." "God damn son, that is fucking beautiful." Bill slapped him playfully on the back, "You should write for Hallmark". ------- Chapter 19: A night like Tuesday night for Charlie Sheen "Now we give them a good hosing down" Chris said with a gleeful tone as he sprayed his mom and sister directly in their ass – surprising the hell out of them. "What did you do when you had them upstairs without a hose?" Bill asked with a laugh. "Do you want to know about the game crusty-ass?" Chris laughed. "I don't think I am ready for that one" Bill joked suppressing the desire to admit he had really enjoyed watching what he thought was going to be a disgusting process. He wondered for a split-second had it been him and Chris down on the ground how true that might have been. "I think we ought to fuck them, give them their affirmations and then start getting them ready for a night out on the town." Bill said while he watched his wife and daughter endure the garden hose water cascading across their tender flesh. "You excited to be a little whore for real tonight fart-face?" Chris sprayed the water directly on the back of Jamie's head wetting her hair and pushing her forward slightly. "It's Ass-face!" she had intended it to sound playful but it just came out pretentious and surly in part because of the strain on her legs to hold herself in this position. It was also because, try as she might to roll with things, she had a very ordered mind compared to the chaos of her brother. She knew she had over-reached when there was silence and she added "Sir?" "Dad, what is that? An infraction or a correction?" Chris asked after letting his sister wait for his response. "I don't know, Cow-Tits? It's alright if I call you Cow-tits isn't it? Now that you changed our deal, is it an infraction or a correction?" Bill was sounding a little passive-aggressive but he was half-joking. Wendy and Jamie still had their backs to the men – holding their cheeks apart as they had been instructed while dripping from the hose-bathing they had just received. "I didn't throw out the rules Sir, you are still our owner," Wendy replied seriously "I think it's just a correction" she looked at Jamie with an apologetic look that read 'Sorry Honey, you are going to get punished'. "You sure now?" Bill was really just fucking with her head and he enjoyed picturing his wife's analytical mind trying to go over precedents of past punishments. He actually wanted it to be a correction because he was excited to see how far the girls were going to go with this. "Yes sir, I am sure. My daughter was out of line and shouldn't have corrected her better. I believe that falls under the day to day discipline of sluts. I volunteer to be punished with her since I have been getting too familiar and not minding my place" she added. "No," Bill surprised her by saying "I think I am going to fuck the shit out of you in the living room, before that pussy gets ruined by all the blacks down Martin Luther King tonight." Bill couldn't see it but Wendy smiled to herself. He pulled her by the hair and tugged, jerking her into the living room scrabbling behind him as he said "Chris, I am sure you don't mind punishing your sister and giving her an attitude adjustment before she spends a night on the streets do ya?" "No Dad, I do not" Chris expressed sincere joy as he reached for his sister's hair in the same way as his father had to drag his mother into the house. He dragged her upstairs. They stopped on the stairs to look back at Bill who had one hand around his wife's neck and her hair wrapped around his other hand as he rode her from behind on the couch. He was fucking his wife hard as her tits bounced and she was giving him as much back as he gave her. "I wonder if they fucked like that before the training?" Chris looked down at his sister who was now on her knees like a puppy since she was given a moment to collect herself. "No, I don't think so sir" Jamie said with a puffed out lip that looked adorable. "You thought about what they did before didn't you though? Dirty girl." Chris grabbed his sister's collar before she could answer and drug her into the upstairs bathroom. "Haven't seen this place in a while have you?" She shook her head no apologetically. He smacked her butt while walking her over to the toilet on all fours. "You'll get ten dunks, and each time you come up you'll say something you are sorry about for your punishment, understood?" Chris didn't wait for her to speak, he sploshed her head down hard into the toilet bowl with a "Hope no one forgot to flush." The water was clear and Jamie came up gasping for air with her entire head wet "I am sorry for correcting you Sir, I AM a fart-face!" She had barely finished saying that when he dunked her a second time for about ten seconds while bubbles blooped out of the water from her being caught mid-sentence "Please forgive your fart-faced sister, Sir for offend..." Chris didn't even give her a chance to finish before dunk number three. "Gahrspptht," Jamie spit some water out of her mouth as she fluttered her eyes open "Thank you for..." Chris pushed his sister down for dunk number four holding it 15 seconds and as he released and let her rise back up over the bowl he said "Finish what you were saying, pee-face" trying to antagonize her by purposely using the wrong nickname. This time Jamie gathered her wits and accepted the name adding "for showing me that Taylor men rule, and Taylor women droobblllll" he forced her head down for dunk five and pushed it hard into the toilet while flushing the bowl. "I used to get swirlied every day by Dave Stravosky and his buddies. Now you suck their dicks and they high five me. How does that feel?" He sounded angry as he released his sister after 20 seconds under the torrent of fresh water washing down the commode. "It feels appropriate Sir. I am sorry the jocks were mean to you, that was unfair. Now they know I am just your cum gobbllrrrrr." Jamie's lips were pushed under the water for dunk six. "Gargle that toilet water, you dumb cow" Chris said but let the pressure up on his sister's head unexpectedly. She wasn't sure if it was a trick so she remained head at water level before rising up slowly and looking at him. "I am sorry Sis, it's just not as much as fun as I thought it would be to torment you. I know you really believe it was unfair for me to get swirlied. I just wish you were a little more evil and vindictive like Delilah, then I'd enjoy giving this a little more." Jamie regarded him with surprise while blinking her eyes rapidly to flick the water out "Ah, that is sweet Sir. I thought you liked Delilah." "Hell yeah I do," Chris admitted "But I know she is a bitch too. This would be a lot more fun to do if you weren't so god-damned sweet and adorable." "I was mean Sir! Don't you remember me waking you up with ice-water and putting a leather belt around your balls to take you to mom for your morning exercises?" Jamie offered a counter-point. "You make it sound like you want to be punished?" Chris was leaning against the counter while his sister remained on all fours above the bowl. He pictured someone waiting for the guillotine to drop down and chop their head off for a split second. "You have just three more to dunk Sir, and then you can get me ready for tonight" Jamie answered uncomfortably. "I just picked ten out of thin air, it could seven or eleven or nineteen" Chris laughed. "Yes, but you said ten, please let me suffer the consequences of my actions" Jamie looked down over the bowl and held a matte of her wet hair up for her brother to grab. "What aren't you telling me?" Chris knew his sister a lot better than she thought he did. "Okay, something you said earlier about popular kids picking on you. I became a popular kid too." Chris nodded in understanding "Yeah, you've got the boobs to be one" he joked. "Yes, and when they made fun of you I didn't defend you. I just let them make fun of you and that was a rotten thing to do" "Oooh Sis, now you are giving me a boner. You mean miss perfect was really a bitch?" Chris brightened at the thought of her being a touch more like Delilah. I am being completely open Sir, as open as my cunt and asshole are. Ask me anything you are curious about Sir. I have no reason to lie." "Do you enjoy this punishment?" Chris asked "No Sir" Jamie said bluntly. "Then why do you want me to do three more?" "Because I am a cunt, and I misbehaved, and the punishment is ten, so the sooner you do, the sooner you can fuck me and get me ready for the street" Jamie said with more confidence than she thought she had on that topic. "You really want to fuck me?" Chris asked. Jamie looked at him with her baby blue eyes and slightly pulled the hair she had in her hand over head imploring him to continue. "Are you going to answer?" Chris asked again. "Yes Sir, you can fuck me anytime. You know that" Jamie said although she realized her brother hadn't fucked her mom or her since this began. "I don't want my first time to be with my sister or my mom – what am I? Trying out for Jerry Springer?" Chris added the last part with his typical sense of humor but it sounded a little off. "I thought you had that girlfriend in Canada Sir?" Jamie mentioned a girl her brother had claimed to have had relations with in the past but that was largely believed to be fiction. "You know that was bullshit, Sis" Chris smiled honestly at her. "I've already sucked your dick Sir, what is the difference?" she let go of her hand and started to touch her brother's jeans. "Didn't you wait until yesterday to do it with BRAD-LEY?" Chris said the name in this annoying voice that sounded nothing like his sister – but it made her giggle. "Well that's true, but I think maybe it's different for girls." She admitted while backing off his jeans. "Hey I didn't say stop rubbing my jeans" Chris directed her and she put her hand back on his bulge and rubbed. "Well, we are brought up to think of princesses and castles and magical sunset moments, but guys are brought up to look at Pamela Anderson and porn and try to get it as fast as they can." "Pamela Anderson? She is like 90 years old, what are you? Mom now." Chris made a joke about how Pamela was from his mom's generation. "Okay, I don't even know, but anyway the time at the flea market when you didn't fuck me in the ass, that wouldn't have counted as a first time really would it? I know you thought about doing it but didn't. I think I respect that decision." "You do? You didn't think maybe it was because you had just been pounded by dad and now your asshole was reamed out and it grossed me out to slap it in that hole after he came all in it?" Chris said with a tone of goofy sarcasm. She laughed "Hey, rainbows and gold come out of this ass" she pouted in jest "Isn't that what you think I thought when this training began?" "Nah," Chris stood up and got behind his sister as he lifted her up and unzipped his pants "I knew you just wanted everyone else to think that." he slid his already hard and sizable cock into Jamie's wet pussy with a single motion and her eyes lit up in surprise as she was being taken. Despite having sat on a chair leg and a stair well all day, she had only ever been vaginally penetrated by one other guy and her brother was far bigger. "So you wanted my virginity, you've got it." Chris slammed into his sister driving his cock hard into her pussy. They fucked in the bathroom as Chris gripped his sister's ass and she held herself over the toilet. "Tell me how it was with Brad-ley!" Chris was breathing hard and only slightly put the annoying accent on 'Bradley'. "Are you sure? It's not too late to put it up my ass if you want to wait," Jamie panted while trying to find a rhythm in time with Chris's awkward thrusts from behind. It was his first time and he apparently had no idea there was a rhythm to be had. "There is no fucking 15 second rule and you get to keep your virginity, I am already in" Chris grabbed the back of Jamie's hair like he had seen his father doing to his mother only minutes before and then pushed down on her back with his other hand as he rode his sister from behind. They were see-sawing back and forth, when Chris grunting softly. "Say something," his voice throaty and abrupt. "Fuck me Chris?" Jamie's sweet pixie-like voice replied asking if that was what he wanted to hear. Chris increased his pace to begin slapping his dick into his sister's wet pussy. He could feel her clit ring stroking his dick with each thrust like a paint roller. "Yes you slut, talk dirty!" "You like it when your slut sister talks nasty?" Jamie replied as lustily as her 16-year old girl next door voice could manage. "You have to start first!" Chris stopped mid-thrust and slapped her taut ass – there was no jiggle – just lean muscle. "Did you cum, Sir?" Jamie asked dutifully. "No, I stopped so I wouldn't," Chris admitted while catching his breath. He could tell Jamie was confused "You have a greedy little pussy and it's trying to coax that cum out of my dick and I know once I do I will be spent. I want to enjoy my first time – is that okay?" "Yes sir, believe it or not that may be the nicest thing anyone has said to me all day." she beamed. "Don't let it go to your head, let's do it reverse cow-girl now!" Chris took the opportunity to lay flat on his back on the bathroom tile and pulled his sister down. She wasn't sure what the position reverse cow-girl was but when Chris grabbed her by the hips as she started to squat down and turned her so she faced toward his feet she figured out he wanted her facing the bathroom door away from him. She reached back and grabbed his hard cock and guided it in to her dripping and eager pussy as she continued to lower herself down on his dick. She sat there for a moment relishing the fullness of being penetrated fully by her brother's stiff cock. When she felt Chris slap the side of her right butt cheek hard she started humping his cock up and down in a slow but steady rhythm. She knew she had to do all of the work by pumping herself up and down on his cock but it was much easier than she thought with her years of dance and gymnastics with the cheerleaders strengthening her muscles to establish her own rhythm. Chris held her by the hips like he was lifting her up and down and to anyone watching it would have appeared that way but it was Jamie doing all of the work. He gave a slap to her ass on her down strokes as she fucked herself up and down on his fat dick and ordered, "Start with the dirty talk bitch sister!" "Oh Sir! Mmmmm Yes!" she bit her lip as she tried to sound orgasmic. "Not like the fake crap they say on Cinemax porn," Chris gave her butt another hard slap – He was enjoying the ride from this angle and he didn't even have to do any of the work. Every time his sister rode his pole up he could fully see the WHORE Tattoo and marveled at what a perfect blossom her turd cutter really was. "You gotta get dirty for tonight on MLK, so get practicing and talk some real shit." he encouraged her by yanking a little on her hair. "You are my pimp, and I am your whore, you are going to make me fuck a bunch of strangers, you like that Sir?" Jamie said energetically as she bounced up and down on his dick. "Better but try to add some words like ass, titty, and that type of shit," this may have been Chris's first time, but as a nerd he had watched plenty of porn on the internet and was enjoying making his sister talk dirty. "You wanna fuck these titties? Put your cock between my boobs and squirt your load all over my whore face, Sir?" Jamie mewed more like a sex-kitten than anything she had said before. "Yeah, that's it, more like that!" Chris was definitely getting off from her new, more rapid pace and dirty words and he thought about stopping her but the exquisite pleasure of the warm glove that was her pussy was begging him to let her keep going. "You want to see me get fucked by three guys tonight at the same time and suck their dicks like a nasty little bitch, Sir?" Jamie's Polly-Anna sweet voice had an erotic decadence to it as she shamelessly talked dirty to her older brother. Chris felt like he was getting even harder than he was before, "Whoa am I getting bigger?" this was new to him. "It feels that way. You have a big old dick to fuck me with, Sir." Jamie could tell that Chris must be getting ready to climax because she found herself gripping his cock with her pussy and it was more difficult to tighten her lips around it. "I don't think I've ever been fully hard before, wow this is fucking great. I didn't know cocks could do this..." Chris felt he was almost ready to explode. the sensations he was feeling as he thrust in was something he had never thought he'd feel. He actually felt the end of his cock hit something at the back of his sister's tight cunt and each time it did she let out a little grunt of what he could tell was pleasure. He figured that his dick must be bottoming out at the entrance to Jamie's womb and that was as far as the velvety orifice would allow a dick to penetrate. He wrapped an arm around her as he commented, "I feel like I am hitting your belly button" "I think you are Sir!" Jamie laughed – had she not done the stairwells and the chair leg exercise today this would have been excruciating to her but her body seemed to be accommodating Chris's girth. "You gonna think about how well I fucked you when you are down there fucking those black guys on MLK blvd?" This time Chris had another sensation – Jamie's pussy had been wet, but now it felt like a fountain had just gone off inside of her as she started having an orgasm, "Yes, mom and I are nigger fuckers!" Jamie said in a state of wild abandon. "Whoa, whoa," Chris slowed her down "Hang on, nigger fuckers? It's okay for them to say that, you and I ... we can never say that" Jamie looked embarrassed "I don't know why I was saying that Sir, I am sorry – I've never used that word before. You know I was just getting carried away." She said while sitting on his dick like a sword in its sheathe. At that moment the bathroom door opened, "Hey, you know I don't want these bitches having any priva..." Bill opened the door and when he saw Jamie pumping up and down on Chris' cock he stopped in midsentence with a little bit of a shock. Wendy was behind him on all fours with a latex dildo in her mouth, her eyes bugging out in surprise at the vision of carnality in front of her. She had thought that Chris and Jamie fucking each other was inevitable but actually seeing it still shocked her. There was something about walking in on them at that moment that shocked Bill. He hadn't seen his son fuck either of them since this started and had thought that his son had decided not to cross that path. He finally asked, "Oh, should I come back?" "Why?" Chris asked, still lying flat on the floor with his sister on top of his lap. "Well to give you some privacy or something?" Bill offered awkwardly. "I've seen you fuck mom plenty of times," Chris said casually before adding "Well if you are going to look surprised, yes this is my first time but I did not cum, so get off me Sis and we can get you ready with Cow-tits" "Please Sir? You can finish, I am on the pill." Jamie pleaded - bouncing ever so slightly on his half-hard cock. "What do you want to do Son? We can wait for as long as you need." Bill wasn't sure what he was feeling but he knew whatever it was, it included a sense of pride in his son. "Well I suppose I should finish in order to be a man, right?" Chris asked for confirmation from his father. "Son, you've been proving to everyone in this family every day that you are a man. You don't have to prove anything to me." Bill said and whether he knew it or not, Wendy started to feel pride in her husband as well for saying that. "You want to fuck your mom's tight pussy for a little while?" Bill offered Wendy to Chris – and she knew she would comply. "Nah," Chris's casual denial of the offer felt like a blow to Wendy's ego but he added "She can spit out that dildo and get over here and suck my balls and kiss ass-face." Bill grinned evilly and prodded his wife forward to do as she was told "I Should get out of here." he added. "No, get the camera. This is me losing my virginity!" Chris said with a sense of humor. Bill disappeared leaving the bathroom door open and Wendy crawled over to her son's balls and started licking them and putting them in her mouth one by one to suck on them. Her nose was right under her daughter's salty pussy and she could taste her juices covering them. As Jamie sat there on Chris' cock, her nose was being covered with her daughter's cum leaking out of her cock filled pussy. She could smell Jamie's arousal as she watched her daughter fucking her son as she licked and sucked on his balls. "Start fucking and show mom how you talk dirty, whore – and just maybe I'll let you out of those three dunks you owe me." Chris demanded, slapping his sister on the meatier part of her butt cheeks. As far down on his cock as she was it compressed her ass so that there was a little body fat to grip. "Please cum in my cunt Sir, and I will pull out and let it drip all over mom's face." Jamie went right for something deeply perverted surprising even her mom but delighting Chris. "You'd lick it up together?" Chris asked "Yes Sir, we are both cum gobblers, I'd lap up your cum if you let me, please use me like a cum bucket, Master!" Jamie hadn't been calling him 'Master' but it felt right at that moment. "Ooh Master, I like that, Mom you are awful quiet?" Chris prompted his mother letting her know that it was her turn to entertain him. "I didn't know I was permitted to speak ... just to nibble on your tight balls Sir." Wendy added hastily while worshipping his hairy ball-sack. "You remember when you made me shave my balls?" Chris felt like being a little evil. "Yes sir, I am sorry. I don't mind your pubic hair in my mouth, I am just a slut." Wendy was watching her daughter's shiny clit ring as it slid up and down over her nose on his dick. "I am not sorry, because now I get to watch you two shave those bald, hairless snatches." Chris said looking up at his father who was holding up his cell phone camera video recording this incestuous event. "Yes sir, it's only fair we keep our cunts shaved so they can be fully exposed to our betters, thank you for insisting we keep them that way for your amusement." Wendy said in between lovingly sucking her son's nuts. She had occasional feelings of guilt that this was incest and wrong and that she was horrible for doing what she was doing – but she had given up on 'Mother of the Year award' this year anyway, she thought to herself. This was her new role in the house and she would play her part as fairly as she could. "You like having a hairless cunt?" Chris's thigh muscles were tightening in apprehension of an impending orgasm as his Sister rode his pole up and down and his mother French kissed his testicles – he could barely concentrate. "I thought I wouldn't, but I actually don't mind Sir. I will probably keep myself shaved this way for your father after this is..." Wendy didn't get a chance to finish and Chris had stopped listening anyway. Jamie saw his toes curl up and he clutched her at the waist and dug his fingers into her skin as he fought the urge to cum so he could enjoy it a little longer – but it was too late, he started to spurt and spurt and spurt. Jamie continued to ride up and down his dick slowly, like a carousel horse on a pole as it comes to a stop to let everyone off, while Chris finished emptying his cum into her pussy. "Oh God, Oh God," Chris turned his head from side to side in exultant joy riding the wave of exultant joy and euphoria from blowing his load in his sister. "Careful Sir, you don't want to pull a Jamie." his sister teased lovingly as she looked over her shoulder at his happy face like one might a cute baby. She waited for a few minutes and noticed her mother had continued to lick his balls even though she was sitting directly on them. 'Bonus' she thought to herself as her mom tickled her clit while servicing her son. They had eaten each other out several times but usually just for others to watch. Jamie enjoyed the relief on her abused pussy for a moment before asking, "Am I too heavy, should I get off of you now Sir?" "You weigh at most a buck-oh-five, I think you could body slam me and I wouldn't feel it." Her older brother, who was a lot pudgier and thicker, wasn't kidding – he could barely feel her weight. He caught his breath, "Okay, Slide up and then drip that cum into mom's mouth." as he worked himself into a position to sit upright on the bathroom floor and observe. Wendy knew it was coming and didn't complain – she got under her daughter's sore pussy and waited for her to squat over her face. A drip, a trickle and then a queef noise followed by a very long drip of fresh semen dropped out of Jamie's cunt right into her mother's waiting mouth. "I think that's it Sir," Jamie seemed unsure if she had let it all out. "Really? I thought there would be more." Chris seemed disappointed. He thought there had easily been enough spunk to have almost filled a condom. "You are probably lying! Here, bring your pussy over here so I can have a look" Jamie didn't hesitate to back her ass into her brother's face and bend over to reveal her pink, budding lips, in their stainless steel hoop, to him. Chris poked a finger in his sister's wet pussy and felt around, "You feel wet, but I guess you aren't hiding a little for yourself to eat later." Chris sounded disappointed there wasn't more cum to be found. "Was your first time as good as you thought it would be Sir?" Jamie sweetly asked over her shoulder –a twinkle in her blue eyes. "I don't know, I haven't had a second time to compare it too," Chris answered with a grin while leaning her forward to spread her ass so he could have a look at it further. "Whenever you are ready," Jamie offered with a breezing sexuality that not only seemed genuine – it sounded a lot like a dutiful nympho who was ready to accommodate his cock however and whenever it was delivered in late night porno movies. "Don't just leave my dick sloppy with your tuna juice, lick it clean." Chris instructed his sister without acknowledging her offer. Jamie crawled over his body in a 69 position and began sucking his half hard dick clean while laying herself on his chest, facing his toes and her mother. "Cow tits, make yourself useful and go find dad - show him that cum in your mouth ... if you haven't swallowed it like a greedy little whore." Chris commanded of his mom who had been kneeling on the floor with her mouth slightly open. "I am right here, I guess you didn't see me," Bill had been standing in the door way for a while with his cell phone camera video recording the entire thing. "Open up and say Aaaaaahhh," Bill instructed his wife in a condescending manner like coaxing a child to do something silly for the camera. "Aarrrhhhh" Wendy held her mouth open to reveal the cum on her tongue as she knelt on the bathroom floor. "That's your son's first orgasm," Bill decided it was fair to add, "inside of a woman's pussy. Aren't you proud of it?" he asked in the same tone. Wendy obediently nodded her head keeping her mouth open. There were equal parts sad humiliation and the bitter acceptance of her submissive role that was so gratifying to Bill. He could almost taste her shame but the fact that she was not defiant and accepted his dominion over her was so exciting to hm. If he hadn't just cum a full load himself he would be hard again. "Do you wish it had been your pussy instead of your slut daughter that christened your boy's manhood?" Bill played with her. She said something that sounded like "awwek wrarp kayekk?" and shrugged. "Okay, okay, I know you are dying to swallow your son's cum," Bill waited for her to anticipate the order to swallow, "Go ahead and spit it on the tile." With a slightly sadistic tone while continuing to film the entire perverse scene of brother laying on his back and getting a blowjob while playing with his sister's ass and mother kneeling at his feet in front of a glistening wad of cum mixed with his wife's spit pooling in front of her. Wendy's eyes watched her husband, waiting for whatever order he would give next. Jamie's lips were smacking on Chris's cock. He hadn't told her to stop and she was sucking him hard again. He was busy playing with her ass cheeks – pulling them apart and letting them slap back together as she lay on top of him facing his feet. "Mom looks so complacent, tell her to say, 'Is this real life?'" Chris joked to his father making an obscure reference to something he had seen on the internet once. "Oh, like that internet video where the guy brings his kid back from the dentist and he is out of it on Novocain and says Charlie bit his finger?" Bill laughed back – getting the details of the popular YouTube video slightly wrong. "Hah, that's an entirely different video but close –sort of a mashup of two of them. Never mind, I'll think of a skit and have them act it out and put it on Motherless." Chris mentioned one of his favorite free porn sites. "Sir? I thought you guys took those assurance videos when we first started and were just saving them in case we backed out? Wasn't that the promise?" Wendy asked with a worried look. The guys had made them do disgusting and humiliating videos when the arrangement was first worked out with the stipulation they would only upload them (and send to Wendy's and Jamie's friends and family) if they backed out of the deal for any reason. It was to act as a sort of 'security deposit'. "You've had cell phone cameras on you at the flea market, the county fair, and the community pool. You don't think those videos are private viewing do you?" Bill laughed at his wife's naiveté' Jamie was quietly sucking her brother's dick saying nothing but listening to the conversation. She wasn't going to stop until she had been given permission. "Yes Sir, I know, but I thought that was our deal?" Wendy asked apprehensively "Lick that cum off the tile and I'll show you two cunts something!" Bill demanded and his wife obediently cleaned the cum back off the tile. Bill helped his son off the floor and they walked down stairs, insisting the girls come down on all fours. When they got to the living room, "From now on unless you are alone, Cow tits you clean off 'license' and Ass-face you clean off your mother's passport, then you will stand or crawl back to back depending on what you are doing and insert it for each other. Is that okay? Can I make another rule or is that suspended too?" Bill asked that last question rhetorically like a petulant child. Jamie and Wendy went to their respective stainless steel butt plugs and cleaned them off for each other by sucking them clean before awkwardly trying to crawl so that butt cheek touched butt cheek. Then they awkwardly fumbled to insert them into each other's assholes. Bill said "Oh for crying out loud, you two are stalling now." as he grew impatient with their blind fumbling and pushed each plug deep into their waiting asses. With a satisfying 'ploop' they sank down into their butts and their sphincters closed around them. They were heavily weighted at the bottom in the shape of an egg but the part that is supposed to stick out is like a metal stem with a circular round lid. If it's pushed all the way in it gives the impression their entire asshole has a glittering manhole cover on it. "Now that your butts are packed nice and tightly, come over and see the computer." Bill had the girls follow him and stand up so they could see as he logged into YouTube and searched on "Spongeboob and Sandy Cheeks" There were several videos (some copies of the same video) of the girl's at the county fair in body paint. It was pretty clear to them that they were basically topless with Wendy in yellow with a cartoon character painted on her chest and her boobs for eyes. Jamie was dressed like a sexy squirrel and there was no mistaking she was topless with brown paint and a bushy tail that was wiggling and waggling from between her butt cheeks. "Wow, I didn't realize how obvious it was we were naked," Wendy commented in awe as the video played revealing them doing jumping jacks and dancing for people as they passed by and laughed at them. "Why didn't anyone stop us from doing this?" "They just thought it was part of the fair I guess, but check this out, it has 789,326 hits." Bill explained as he tapped a finger on the monitor where the number of views of the video was. "Seven hundred and eighty thousand people have watched us flash everyone at the county fair?" Wendy almost looked like she was ready to cry. "Well in all fairness, some of those people watched more than once – my friends have seen it at least a hundred times." Chris's tone was dismissive like it was no big deal. "So you mean with all the pornography that people could watch on the internet, that many people wanted to see me and mom dance around like two sluts?" Jamie asked with a sense of wonder and appreciation. "It was one thing where I'd have to get another job and maybe Jamie would have to switch schools, but close to a million people have seen this video, are there more?" Wendy was the only one who seemed concerned. "Look, these clips are already out there – there is no taking them down, it's no big deal, wouldn't the world have ended by now if all it took was nearly a million people seeing you dance around like sluts at a county fair?" Chris offered sagely. Months ago Wendy would never have looked to him for advice or asked him his thoughts on something – and he probably wouldn't have bothered to offer. Now she gave some thought "A million people liked us? Can I read the comments Sir?" Shit, I wanted to see them make out with each other! slaya2006 1 minute ago I love this video. these girls are hot. TheTroyisawesome 3 minutes ago who cares? They look hawt! RPGfiend 7 minutes ago anyone no if these two are even mom or daughter? memphistigers777 9 minutes ago wtf taylorswift19991122 12 minutes ago the mom is hot butt I wuld fux sandee buttcheex logandance99 14 minutes ago Holy SHIT!! THose are some HUGE tits love the mom aguafinatv 15minutes ago R U rdy kidz? Lolz fartymcbutt301 16 minutes ago hoes in training. GenjiZerk 18 minutes ago whores live in a pineapple under the sea 2012jordanwalters 22 minutes ago "How many are there of these, Sir?" Wendy scanned down to see a virtually unending series of mostly one line comments that seemed to be asking questions and making comments like the ones before. "Looks like there is a total of 297,000 comments on this video alone" Chris said casually clicking another version of the video. "This one has been chimpunked," he said as the video showed a vastly sped up version of the same video with all the voices sped up in the style of Alvin and the Chipmunks. "Why would people do that to this video, Sir?" Wendy was puzzled. She didn't admit it out loud but she was amusingly flattered. "Its Youtube" Chris offered as a form of explanation before showing the two of them in an endless loop of seven seconds of the video where Wendy's and Jamie's tits were bouncing in perfect synchronicity to the wub-wub sounds of a heavy techno dubstep song. Even Wendy had to laugh at how ridiculous she and her daughter looked caught in an eternal loop dancing to some far out space age music. "Surely, youtube would take us down? Isn't this pornography?" Wendy asked with a 'hopefully yes they would' implied in her question. "This isn't porn, you had on latex body paint - there are tons of women dancing around in panties or at Mardi gras on YouTube. Now if you want to see porn, let's head on over to Motherless." Chris drove on the keyboard. "Really Dad? Internet Explorer? How about Google Chrome instead?" Chris chided his dad's choice of internet browser, closing that one and opening one he felt was superior. "That did open right up," Bill was studying the user interface of the new browser more than the rows and rows of shocking porn clips that filled out the 'most viewed' and 'most commented' sections of the screen. To Internet porn pros like Bill and Chris the clips of teenage girls flashing boobs on webcam, women fucking giant dildos and having all manner of fetish related sex were pretty common place and they were not shocked – but Wendy and Jamie were somewhat overwhelmed by the nature of the clips. "Yeah, no one wants to see just two people fucking lovingly any more. It has to be unusual or interesting in some way to get any play, a gang bang or bukkake show even has to bring something new that we haven't seen" Chris noticed his mother and sister's awed expressions. "Bukkake, Sir?" Chris clicked on a clip of an Asian woman naked and kneeling in the center of a dozen men whose faces were off camera. They were jerking off on her face and she was collecting the cum in a clear plastic container that she held under her chin – spitting it back out if necessary. The container looked to contain about a half-gallon of the milky substance. "Is that real? How long would it have taken to collect that much?" Wendy said shocked. "Why do you ask, do you want to find out?" Chris teased his mother before adding "Who knows if it's real, I don't care and the clip is only a minute, very few people have the attention span to watch for more than that." "Well, or they can't hold out that long," Bill added somberly – implying that some people would have cum before the end of the video and then lost interest. "Ha-ha, Daad..." Chris laughed at the implication his father was one of those 'some peoples' "We are on this too?" Wendy had just started to get comfortable with her place amongst the saucy videos of sluts dancing that populated Youtube between the people Vblogging and posting videos of cats. "Let's see," Chris typed in the search term 'mother daughter' and Wendy held her breath that she was going to be the first one to come up. Images 10,210 and Videos 830 came back and in small thumbnails were pictures ranging from two blonde trailer park women holding their tops up – with one seeming to be a carbon copy of the other only younger to videos of two women in bondage. "Okay, where are we in the rankings Sir?" Wendy sounded less annoyed now that she saw there was so many videos of other women. Chris paged through several screens; Among the videos were – there was a sunny beach with blonde in her 40s who looked a lot like Morgan Fairchild and what might have been her 18 year busty daughter on a beach naked and smiling for the camera. - Two girls washing cars, one slightly older than the other in thong bathing suits in a trailer park. - A woman who looked an awful lot like June Cleaver from Leave it to Beaver standing naked with just her panties pulled down below her waist holding a turkey from the oven serving her laughing family at the dinner table. - One video was "mother, daughter footjob" and these two women who looked like less attractive versions of Wendy and Jamie were pulling off two dicks with their feet that could have easily been from Bill and Chris's counterparts in that freaky foot-fetish having family. - Several pictures of what appeared to be Portrait photos of a topless woman in her forties and her adult daughter in black bikini bottoms. They seemed like very ordinary family photos only topless which begged the question why one in particular was the mother hovering over the daughter lovingly on the bed and putting a finger in her mouth to suck on. - Some were even captioned mother daughter.com that were obviously strictly about that sort of relationship Wendy couldn't help but wonder what the story was behind the reason these women took these photos – her own story would take dozens of chapters to tell – could there be as much detail behind these women stories? The list of pictures and videos of mother and daughter videos and pictures seemed almost infinite. "Oh my gosh," Wendy seemed overwhelmed. "Are these women from Europe or something?" "Did you think you were the only mother and daughter sluts on the internet?" Chris laughed incredulously. "I think that some of these are skanks from right here in the good old U.S. of A." laughing at the notion that only European women would pose for pictures like this. "Hell, Howard Stern has a regular segment on his radio show. If we were anywhere close to his studio we could make you two pigs make out for 500 bucks easily." Wendy said nothing – her son was probably right and obviously there were a lot more people out there with interesting stories that put them in a situation that they were photographed in. Some of the photos were staged and modeled but most just seemed like family pictures taken in the process of living their lives. Wendy wondered if this is just the ones that had pictures taken – how many were doing it without posing for photos and posing on the web? "That video of you on YouTube is barely a blip on a show like Tosh .0's radar to have a little laugh. Now videos like these..." Chris clicked on one of a blonde in her late forties sucking a dick masterfully while showing a 20 year old girl how to cup the balls and give an excellent BJ, "They aren't so rare either, but these are the ones people really go for." He stopped the video when he made the point. "Can you go back, Sir?" Wendy asked respectfully "You want to take some notes on how to suck a dick?" Bill laughed at his wife. She looked at him with a serious expression when she realized that was exactly what she wanted to do. It had seemed to Wendy that the woman had learned some technique to suppress her gag reflex she wasn't aware of and at the same time was using her tongue very aggressively. "You jealous of her? You are a good little cock sucker, don't worry." Bill offered as a compliment while Chris went back to display the remainder of the double deep throat video. "You are sure all these women are related?" Wendy asked skeptically. "Some of the videos will ask if they are and make them show their picture ID into the camera, but most guys are just happy to hear them say it or if the title of the video is incest. It's just fantasy to them and they want something naughty and taboo to whack off to. Some of it is just Photoshop. Here is a whole series on the Brady bunch if you want to see it." "That is okay Sir, I'd like to keep my child hood memories of TV shows pure if possible." Wendy grinned in acceptance of internet reality. She had researched bondage and porn when she found Bill's stash weeks ago but she realized now she had only seen the tip of the iceberg. "Why do guys like to see an older woman and a younger woman, and not just two younger women, Sirs?" Jamie had been silently observing, standing naked behind her brother before deciding to chime in. "What do you mean? Why not see a MATURE woman and another mature woman together, instead of a teeny bopper with little boobs who may be still wet behind the ears?" Wendy teased feigning offense at the implication it wasn't obviously better to see two young girls. "Oh yes, let's see Sir, do you want to search on saggy boobed MILFs and compare the result to 'young girls making out' and see which one is higher?" Jamie teased right back jokingly asking her brother to compare the results. "You would think you two have learned nothing about being a team – the way you taunt and tease each other." Bill commented on the joking between the two girls. "Actually, I beg to differ father," Chris intentionally took an intellectual tone, "There is no animosity, they bait and tease each other out of a mutual respect developed from their sharing this training. They trust each other's judgments and I believe their trusts are reaffirming that by making light of their situation. I believe if they were saying nothing to each other, they would have reason to be concerned." Bill hadn't expected that analysis from his son – but then his son had managed many pearls of wisdom since they had become close over the last few weeks. "Where did you get all that?" "I think I read it in a Star Wars Comic book about two Jedi who always banter back and forth when facing danger," Chris grinned stupidly while the others laughed at his admission he got it from a comic book. "So are we on there?" Wendy changed the subject – but filed away her son's observation for further thought. She hadn't thought about it quite like that before. "Impatient? Always concerned about you and your own ego?" Bill said with a tsk-tsk. "I am sorry Sir, I know you want to go to Rahjid's motel and we have to hurry." Wendy offered. "Making excuses and not accepting your shortcomings?" Bill observed but then instructed his son "Type in Best Buy Dumpster Bitches." There on the screen was seven minutes and thirty seconds of Wendy and Jamie sucking several young men's cocks inside of a brick enclosure for a Dumpster. The men had the iconic blue and red polo shirts of people who work at Best Buy. There was no missing Wendy and Jamie's large tattoos on their well-rounded asses as they held their cheeks open "OMG, that's Dalton!" Jamie could tell one of them was a boy who worked there that shared an English class with her. "The video quality is so grainy, you can tell by just his dick size?" Chris laughed – it was a rhetorical question so she did not answer. "Who filmed this anyway? It looks like he is beating off?" "There was a homeless man sitting in the corner, I think he must have?" Wendy tried to remember back, "How would a homeless guy have a cell phone?" "Hey, you can lose your home, your car and your job, but AT&T is gonna hold you to that two year contract no matter what." Chris joked in response, shrugging off any deeper thought on why so many people, who probably shouldn't have cell phones, have them now. "When your mother was young, cell phones were big heavy things rich business men carried around in brief cases and they weighed ten pounds, so she isn't aware of how much progress there has been to make them available to common folk." Bill joked about his wife's question. Wendy silently extended Chris's analysis of the reason they could joke being mutual respect to extend to all four of them, "Hardee Har Sir. Yes, back then dinosaurs used to chase me and your father and we had to wait to get back to the cave to use our rotary phone to dial the police." "What is a rotary phone?" Jamie asked in an innocently dumb, bimbo-like tone reminiscent of Goldie Hawn and rather than answer, Wendy and Bill both chuckled. "Is this the only one of us on here?" Wendy could hear the camera man's 'fap-fap-fap' sound as he masturbated and commented on their dick sucking, "Like two chickens picking at corn." They were bending at the knees holding their ass cheeks apart pointed right at the Camera. Wendy felt her ass was far bigger from this angle than she was comfortable with. She could almost make out Chris standing off to the side – but the Cameraman had obviously only put the focus on the girls. "Does it matter? Internet famous isn't really famous." Chris answered. Wendy looked at her naked daughter, who was staring passively at the computer screen, for some sign of apprehension. "Just if you are going to upload photos of us, can I ask that you get us to agree to it and then there is some star reward, Sirs?" Wendy asked after thinking about it. "Videos too," Bill nodded in agreement with his wife, "Cool, maybe we can make a little discussion group for fans of Cow-tits and Ass-face." Wendy felt a cold shiver run down her spine and her sphincter gripped the cold butt plug she had in her ass wondering if she had just casually agreed to something that would haunt her for the rest of her life. A part of her was actually amused by the pictures and videos and she wanted a record of sorts that she had survived this but she didn't dare admit that now – not even to herself. "Okay, if you two perverted cunts are done looking at internet porn, can we tear you away to get an enema, get cleaned up and get your whore make up all perfect?" Bill teased before adding "I want that contour make up on your body to make it look like you have six pack abs and aren't so flabby – and brush your damned teeth, your mouth smells like ass." "That's probably because they've been eating ass all day," Chris stood up and looked over the naked women. Their bodies were fit and in great condition from exercise – but it was funny to him to fuck with their self-esteem and call them flabby in an ironic sort of way. "You heard your masters, get on your hands and knees and crawl upstairs and await your daily, patented Waxerman Colonic and douching." Wendy was getting on her knees "I don't know about Ass-face but I feel like I need to milk myself soon Sir?" Wendy cupped her large boobs to emphasize how full they felt. She rarely called her daughter ass-face but everyone else did so much it had felt natural and she didn't think about it. "Yeah Cow-tits, my teenage boobies need a little squeezin' too" Jamie replied with a little levity as she took her place at her brother's heel on all fours. "I meant to ask, does it start to feel sore and painful when you haven't been milked in a while? Is that how you know it is time to be milked again?" Bill asked sounding very clinical and concerned. "Yes Sir, it does." Wendy admitted now on all fours by her husband's feet. He abruptly kicked her tit with his shoe causing them to jiggle, "Good, I am glad it feels like you are going to explode. How you know it's time to milk those udders is when you are told by a male in this household you are permitted to milk for our pleasure, is that understood Cunt-tits?" Bill wasn't angry but he was firm. "Yes Sir, I am sorry Sir." Wendy thought better of offering an excuse she thought she was answering his question. "I want Rahjid to see you two squirt milk. That goat-fucker probably would go crazy to get that kind of milk from white women and I think I may get more money for you. I want you two sluts to basically be on white alert at Rahjid's – be obedient and don't embarrass us." He commanded before telling Chris he would mix up the enema and to get them started upstairs. The girls were no strangers to painful enemas filled with pepper and ipecac oil. They endured this one as they had all the others except they both had each other's buttplugs in their mouth while they wiggled their butts trying to contain the agonizing liquid for a full ten minutes. "I'd take you downstairs so you can let it rip and fertilize the rose bushes, but you two cunts are lucky we have limited time – you can empty your fat asses in the shower." Chris was all business as he ripped the enema and douche nozzles from their asses and pussies. Wendy fanned her face futilely as the heat from the warm enema had raised her body temperature slightly. Wendy and Jamie didn't look as they heard the disgusting water evacuate their bowels – they just kept their head straight and their ass over the tub as it ker-sploshed behind them. "I am surprised by how clean that water ran," Chris sounded disappointed the backwash from his sister and mother's butts hadn't been a little more yellowish brown. "You two are normally so full of shit," He chuckled as he pulled the metal butt plugs from their mouth with a plop. "You two know where these go." Jamie stood back to back with her mother as they had been instructed and they reached around behind themselves and began to awkwardly try to ease the plugs into each other's cracks. "You'll have to practice this until you get better at it. You never know when you may be in the dark and need to do it without looking." He giggled half-kidding. He was still naked from fucking his sister earlier and his dick was almost hard again. "You looking at my enormous cock for a reason, shit-sniffer?" Chris addressed his mother by yet another in his long list of insults. "Yes Sir, I am impressed you are hard again," Wendy offered the praise honestly. "No you can't ride my cock if that is what you are getting at, there are paying customers out there. I will let you shave my dick though." "Thank you Master" Wendy used the term Jamie had earlier for her son and it felt strange to her. It had been one thing to call him 'Sir' and even 'Owner', but there was a whole new level of accepting his authority in the word 'Master' that made Wendy feel all at once uncomfortable and vulnerable but certain that it was appropriate. It took them about 45 minutes to finish doing their hair, brushing teeth, applying makeup and dolling themselves up like cheap hookers. Wendy joked "It takes a lot of work to make yourself look this cheap." When her husband finally inspected them before they were to jump in the truck. Wendy could see out her living window that it was just now sunset and there was still daylight outside. She hoped he would take his time with the inspection before loading them into the truck nude. "Okay, you cunt's ready?" Bill asked "Don't you want to inspect us before we go, Master?" Wendy asked of her husband – offering him the same title she gave her son. She didn't plan on saying that every time she addressed him but she wasn't going to play favorites with her respect. "Why, are you hiding a Hershey's kiss up your asshole to eat later? You are totally naked, what might I find?" Bill was being pragmatic. "It is just that you guys usually inspect us before we leave, to make sure we are shaved, and yes I suppose you are checking to make sure we haven't snuck anything out of the house" as ludicrous as it sounded given that she had in her new butt plug, hiding a piece of candy wasn't such a far out idea. "The things I do to amuse you bitches," Bill pretended he was put out by it but he loved to inspect and judge them. "This will just be a quick one," he promised as he commanded them into inspection position one. The girls snapped into the position, standing with legs shoulder width apart, tits out, head straight, hands placed on cheeks pulling them apart so that the circular cover of their butt plug could be seen. Bill looked his wife in the eye and then his daughter as he paced in front of them standing side by side like he was a general about to address his troops. "You two whores are still ready to walk the street, sucking dicks and getting fucked in the ass and your precious cunts for money by strangers?" "Yes Master" they both answered in almost unison – Bill liked the upgrade in title but he didn't let on it impressed him. "You asked us to suspend your earning of stars towards your release from this discipline, because you want us to pay our bills and if we have enough money left over go to my Internet Discussion forum convention this weekend, is that right cunts?" "Yes Master" it lost a little of its impact the second time they said it. "You could have asked for stars in exchange for every cock you fuck and dick you suck and probably been done by this weekend. Tell me why you greedy whores really asked for the suspension?" Bill lifted up his wife's tit to look under it for sweat stains and dropped it, letting it bounce in place satisfyingly. "May I sir?" Wendy offered to answer on their behalf. "Well, I knew we let you down by getting fired and for Jamie getting kicked out of school even though you tried to keep her in," she explained. Bill nodded for her to continue knowing that wasn't the entire answer. "I knew if we didn't ask you to suspend the dares and contests and education you had planned for us, we might not make enough to cover all our bills AND the trip, so we hoped you would focus on whoring us out to solve that Sir. It isn't the perfect or most pleasant solution – but it is a way to make quick cash and you HAVE trained us to be good sluts Master, so you may as well benefit from that." Bill was twisting Wendy's clit ring to get a rise out of her while she calmly explained that decision again. "I just want to reinforce to you two sluts that you still belong to us after the User's forum convention and ask if there was anything more you want to tell me about this generous offer of submission?" he smelt his finger as he finished his question. "Are you asking if we did it to try to get out of finishing our commitment to you both, Master?" Wendy asked bluntly – if that was what Bill was hinting at, that had not been in her mind. "No, not at all. You've proven time and again that even though you were self-absorbed, power-mad bitches who humiliated us daily, now that it's your time, you are willing to take your medicine. I just can't help but wonder if there is something more to it?" Bill was standing behind his wife and slid her buttplug out – placing it in his daughter's willing mouth. "Speaking for myself, the motivation was that you lost your football memorabilia when I kicked you out of the house and you were not going to be able to go to your user's group – which I know you have said is no longer important to you, but I somehow feel it is closure." Jamie murmured what sounded like agreement with her mother's words. Bill stuck a finger up his wife's asshole and wriggled it around and popped his pinky in her pussy "A little wet," he commented before asking "You think I deserve happiness after doing this to you and Jamie every day?" "Yes Master, we agreed to this treatment, and trust me once we are square on our debt, I'll never again treat you badly or take you for granted. I swear I've had enough dog food and sleeping on the floor to regret ever hurting or belittling you or Chris. I should never have let things get so dysfunctional, Sir." Bill took the finger out of his wife's ass and sniffed it under his nose "Smells good" he grunted. "You know you have a sweet smelling ass?" Bill asked her. "Chamomile," Chris chimed in. His father looked at him with a confused expression, "In Mrs. Waxerman's colonic, I was looking for things to put in the enema, so I used chamomile tea. You should smell Jamie's ass, it smells like cinnamon and nutmeg." Bill shook his head – 'that boy's not right' he laughed to himself as he had a dozen times before. He replaced his wife's buttplug –taking it from Jamie's mouth and then ran his hands up and down her body to feel for hair "You pass." "Thank you Sir" Wendy knew that was high praise from Bill "Numb-nuts," Bill addressed his daughter who had been patiently waiting. He pulled her butt plug out and stuffed it in his wife's mouth. Then he checked Jamie's teeth "Let me see your tongue." He demanded as she stuck it out revealing the cock shaped stud. "You've stopped talking with a lisp, how do you like your tongue ring?" he asked as he spot checked her nude body with his hands. "Thank you Master for my piercing." Jamie's sweet answer was greeted with a painful slap to the tits. "If you are going to be on the streets tonight you need to learn to listen. I didn't ask if you were grateful, I asked if you liked it?" Bill's voice had become like venom. He stood behind her and jabbed a finger up her ass. "Will you and Chris still call me a slut if I keep it after our training is over?" Jamie was used to things going in and out of her ass but she still made an adorable shocked face as her eyes widened when her father entered her from behind with his index finger. "Yes, we will." Bill said with absolute certainty. "I would still like to keep it, Master." Jamie was looking straight ahead diligently. Bill pulled his finger out of his daughter's asshole and smelled it asking Chris "Vanilla?" "Yeah, I threw that in the enema too – thanks for noticing," Chris was satisfied, watching the inspection. He was holding a small cooler, and a bag. Bill made his daughter clean the finger before hooking it inside her pussy. "You agree with what your whore of a mother said?" "Yes Master, every word of it. As weird as it sounds, I am really thankful for this training to expose my shortcomings and I am excited about the challenge of tonight." Jamie sounded positive and energetic as usual. "Excited? I'll say." Bill made a show of pulling out his finger and sniffing it and then having her lick it. He began rubbing his daughter's smooth, taut body with the palms of his hands – he knew he would find a trace of hair but that wasn't always the point. "So if you learned so much from this adventure, are you willing to be the family cum-bucket whenever you fuck up at school or around here?" The question would have seemed outrageous to Jamie's virgin ears a few weeks ago but she took it completely in stride as she considered it. "I am a house pet until my suspension is over, and I earn my stars, but I think I've learned my lesson and you'll find me to be a good girl when this is over sir – but no I would not like further training and discipline." "You were always a good girl, sugar butt." He slapped her on the ass and asked "You sure you wouldn't agree to spend summer break as our whore? I can put half of it away in your college fund" Bill was half-kidding and half-serious. "Yeah Sis, I would even stay home from college to help train you," Chris chimed in. "You are going to College?" Bill was stabbing Jamie's buttplug back in her ass but all three of them had their eyes wide in surprise on hearing that. "Hey, you two cunts aren't the only ones who learned something. I've had the time of my life these past weeks, but I've also realized what it's like to be popular, to be powerful, and to be responsible. I've opened my mouth and people listened and they liked what I had to say – I've not had that in a real long time. I've felt like a non-entity around here and I became what everyone thought I was – a geeky loner. I am almost grown, and I need to take some summer courses to graduate and then go to college." "What do you want to study, Master?" Wendy couldn't stop beaming with pride if she had been ordered too on threat of a 100 canings to the ass. "I want to learn to make video games, duh!" Chris was quite certain. He then added "One of the fastest growing job markets in the country right now is in the video game design industry. This industry is taking in over $7 billion dollars in revenue yearly. So every employer in this job field is looking for the brightest, most talented new recruits they can find, and they are willing to pay those who fit the bill a very good wage. I could work for Blizzard, EA, and probably start out making a comfortable salary right out of school." Wendy's first impression were that these might be the procrastination dreams of a video game addict but hearing how he had researched it "I love you Sir, and I am so proud of you! May I please hug you?" She didn't wait for permission – she broke out of her formation with her son and gave him a big hug. "Mommmm!!" Chris sounded embarrassed "Ho's don't hug their pimps." "This one does," Wendy embraced her son lovingly –without a trace of sexuality to it even though she was naked, wearing only a dog collar and a butt plug and he was fully dressed. "Okay, if you are done, let's go have a Charlie Sheen kind of Tuesday Night!" Chris said excitedly. His father asked "A What?" "Well, it's going to be wild, but I don't think it's going to be as wild as a typical Saturday for Charlie Sheen, but I would be willing to go as far as a typical Tuesday Night for him." Bill answered back "Duh, Winning!" before quietly whispering to him "I am proud of you too, boy." Which was the most respectful way Bill knew of to endorse his son's ambition. There was no turning back now. – clean, inspected, naked and energized by the family's most positive affirmation session ever - the Taylor's were ready to face this night together. ------- Chapter 20: Jamie's Journal - Two Truths, One Lie and a Million Secrets Note to reader: This is Jamie's journal from Tuesday around sunset when the girls leave the house. Jamie is provided her cell phone to carry with her in case she needs to call for emergencies – which is what she uses to tap out this narrative. In order to increase readability, some of the dialogue exchanged was altered to appear in a 'narrative' story format. The Hindi words that appear in this part of the journal were originally phonetic but have been translated into their actual spellings. I have this theory that may sound crazy – but journal you would never judge me or reveal my secret inner thoughts. I think maybe in another life I was a dog – that or women tend to align with how either dogs or cats are wired. There is something so hard-wired in how I think that it goes beyond mere loyalty. I get uncomfortable when the rules aren't followed. As a little girl in third grade, when the teacher left the room for a few minutes it was everyone else's signal to throw wadded up paper and talk but me. I sat at my desk like a good little girl waiting for my gold star upon the teacher's return. It is ironic then that today mom and I let them suspend our stars – but more on that in a minute. I want to elaborate on the dog/cat thing – because of all the twisted and disgusted things that happened to me today, it is hard for even me to believe I am sitting here feeling guilty about the fact I was supposed to get 10 dunks in the toilet and I said nothing when Chris forgot and only gave me seven. You would think though, if I have some dog in me – that I would have taken to eating Roscoe's Dog food. But no – my stomach is growling (In part due to nervousness for tonight) but mostly because it is hard to digest that stuff. It tastes beyond gross – kind of tastes like salty fish. Why don't they make garbage flavored dog-food? I think Roscoe would prefer it. Note to self: Another big idea to get rich when I am in my twenties: Garbage flavored dog food. Where was I? Oh yes, Cat and Dog People. Then there are people who are wired more like cats – I think Delilah and Cathy Griffin are perfect examples and probably why there is this natural animosity in them that makes them see me as some sort of enemy. They would happily lie around in the window all day, but no matter what they are doing, it's important for them to make it look like they intended to do it all along and that it looks like they are comfortable. They are clever and sneaky and hiss when they are threatened but they'll run rather than stand up and fight when faced with real danger. They want attention but they would rather move just out of hand's reach when you go to pet them – so you have to move a few inches closer before they'll let you do it. If they do sit in your lap it is on their terms and they usually want something, whether it's a snack or just warmth. Unlike Dog's who need a fence and boundaries, you never have to leash or fence a cat – they stay because they think this is THEIR house, and it's probably the humans who need to be fenced in. Me? – I have more in common with Roscoe the loyal dog who'll walk right behind you, dutifully following his human wherever we go, than I do with Delilah or Cathy. What would happen if those two ever meet? I don't know, but I'd imagine it will be like when two alley cats finally come into contact with them hissing and and scratching at each other trying to claim their territory. Now that I have journaled yet another theory about why I have these idiosyncratic tendencies to look to rules to define order and safety, I should probably tell you where we are and a little about my day. Today I spent my second day of the next two weeks as a house-pet. My mom lost her job and she spent today outside with me – but for how long that will last I don't know. If at the end of the two weeks she still has not found herself a job, I am not sure how I would feel about going to school with no restrictions while she continued to suffer. Today was a lot like Monday except it was a lot easier with my mom out there to talk too. It gets very lonely when you are in the hot-sun down in the backyard with nothing but the wind whistling through the crack of your ass to keep you company. There is gross little Roscoe, but all he wants to do is lick, bite and play. Then again – isn't that like most males? Mrs. Waxerman dropped by today and we played at white alert- which coincidentally we are going to do when we get to wherever we are going for tonight's adventure. She wanted to know why I let Delilah punish me with her nephews – and "It just kind of happened that way" didn't sound like the right answer – I am glad I didn't say that. I think for me it is much easier to play the submissive little miscreant around her – I can only imagine how much more of an imposition it is for my mother –who has accomplished so much in her life to have to let Mrs. Waxerman look down her nose so far at her. I was, as always, dutiful and apologetic and I think I've already covered in past journals how she can be very snooty – and never find's fault with perfect little Delilah, who is an angel in her eyes. I think I've already mentioned how surreal it is that she seems to be shocked and disgusted by what we do and say, but no matter how twisted anything is that we tell her – she wants more details. My dad gave my mom and I matching butt plugs today and insisted we wear them all day (I have mine in right now), and she acted as if he had spoiled us by buying us matching earrings from Tiffany's. They thought it was cute to name my butt plug "License" – probably so they could tease me about getting my license as a play on words. I am just glad they didn't name it "Bradley" or something to tease me about the guy I've had a crush on for weeks. I really should write about our magical date on Monday night – but you know I kind of don't even want to share that with my journal. Is that selfish? I already said journal, how you will never judge or reveal my inner thoughts, so why do I hesitate to relive last night by journaling it? I will say that it wasn't like any of my 'dates' with crude, disgusting, perverted, juvenile boys. He followed the rules my father had specified but with a look on his face that said he was just humoring him and me and would rather treat me like a princess. He reminds me so much of 'Jim' from the show "The Office" or any character Paul Rudd ever plays – that nice lovable guy who doesn't take life too seriously. Yeah, I probably should also just leave out how it is that we ended up having sex – I know I won't ever forget any of the details. It is permanently etched in my mind how it was outside under the stars and how it felt right to tell him I snuck the key to my pussy prison out of the house – I can't help but think though my father put it there for me to find. He definitely surprised me by sending me on the date in the first place – I guess he can be a real softie when he wants to be. I wish I had access to my cell phone this afternoon because I would have written a moment by moment account of Mrs. Waxerman's visit and how my dad made us sit on a chair leg. You would think that is not so hard until you sit an already sore cunt lip on the hard flat bottom of the chair and let your weight pull you down. Then again most people probably wouldn't think about sitting with a chair leg up their cunt – so there is that. I would have written about how my dad's idea to give us some relief was to tie us up on the stairwell bannister and make us sit on the surprisingly phallic post at the bottom of the stairs. How have I lived in this house most of my life and never noticed that it was kind of dick shaped? The more you think about how skyscrapers have to be erected taller than each other, and how most things men design are shaped – the more you realize there must be some Freudian penis envy thing going on in there. If I ever get into a college with the reputation I am building, I need to make a note to myself to take some psychology classes to better understand all this. Dad left us groaning and gagged all day to squirm on the stair well until Chris came home from school. Now that I am no longer a virgin – it seems my cunt is fair game for his tortures and all I can say about sitting on the stair well that was positive was at least it wasn't up my ass! I thought I was eventually going to just impale myself on the wooden plug and it would just split me in too. My mom has had a lot more practice with getting her cunt tortured and trained, so I think she took this afternoon a lot better than I did. My first thought upon seeing my brother wasn't, "Oh Hi Brother, I hope you lose your virginity to me today." it was, "Oh, I wonder if I can do my homework assignments that I am missing while on suspension and maybe he'll order me to do them." That has to be some sort of bizarre, teacher's pet idiosyncrancy or I was a dog in another life - take your pick. Dad and Chris are hung up on some new computer game – I honestly do not miss Facebook or any of the things I used to do on the computer before I started training. I can imagine though, when we took computer time away from them when they were our slaves, how it was probably like taking crack from an addict. My brother called me fart-face and I've been called a lot of names before but I accidentally lost my cool and corrected him. I don't know why I feel the need to do that but I've grown so used to answering to ass-face that I hear that when people call me Jamie. It isn't that I want to call myself ass-face or that I want to refer to myself or my vagina as a cunt – it's just that feels like what the rules are and something in me tells me to enforce them – even on myself. I hate when you are playing Monopoly and people make up their own rules about Free Parking. Show me where it says fines and taxes and 500 bucks go in the Free Parking money in the official rules? It says it is just a free resting space! We had just come inside from doing one of my brother's favorite pastimes - "The Slow Shit". The best way to describe it is like meditation, except a brown banana is snaking its way out of your ass. You have to take the slowest shit you can and ease the turd out of your ass while he watches. It is part of our "hole training" exercises. When he first came up with the 'game' I didn't really get it and because I hardly ever pooped, I usually lost to my mom who would patiently pump out perfectly long steamers of fudge. When I first started doing it, I was definitely overwhelmingly humiliated by my brother or anyone watching me shit. I still have a hard time saying 'shit' instead of use the bathroom or poop, but that is the rule. I've come to realize that my brother thinks it is hilarious and he has already seen us at our worst, so it really isn't that much of an imposition. I am still not clear on how he judges the winner – is it the girl with the most or who is the slowest? Wouldn't there be some sort of ratio if you poop more but did it faster? If mom had two big turd bars and finished in 8 minutes but I had only one but made it last 9 minutes, should I not win? Chris seemed to think I took a break in between turds. In any case, my mom usually wins. Chris would award her 'letters' in the past towards our stars and crown her "Queen of the Poo-Poo" or something silly – which he would write on her butt. In a way, I guess it's not always best to be winner of Chris's games. I think though there is something innate and primal in both me and mom that makes us want to compete with each other and be measured. I think somehow I got un-constipated over the last few days, because as gross as it sounds, I was able to put in a much better show this time around. It was my father's first time watching and now he probably thinks we are disgusting – which we are. I was torn between doing the best job I could, and just squeezing out a little. They would have checked my ass and found I hadn't gone so as my mom says, "You might as well have a little fun with it" if you have to do it. Anyway, I fucked up and told my brother my name was Ass-face and the punishment meted out was ten head dunks in the toilet. I've seen him do this to mom and I wasn't scared – it really wasn't so bad. I think my main concern was that maybe dad didn't flush after using it or there was some sort of blue cleaning liquid in there. Not getting to use the toilet myself – it makes bitching about when they used to leave the toilet lid up seem like we were being overly picky. I think that is one of the reasons they like to use bathroom control on us – that and my brother, like the Waxerman boys, seems thoroughly amused by fart humor. He only made it to seven dunks before he admitted he felt guilty about punishing me. Apparently, I am not wicked and evil enough and he didn't feel it was justified. I tried to tell him how I hadn't stuck up for him and enjoyed my popularity while he didn't but he just doesn't see what a rotten selfish brat I've been – my confession only made him feel worse for some reason. I suppose I am one of the wickedest of all. Have you ever watched the show Game of Thrones? It is on HBO – I wouldn't have watched it but one of the geeky boys my brother rented me too didn't know what else to do with me so he made me sit naked in his room and watch it with him on his computer. It is a very well done story – and one of the characters is this fair haired queen who sort of reminds me of the singer Alanis Morrisette. She has this pure and wise look on her face – like she is above petty squabbles and can see right through any of yours. It is ironic then that her character is actually the most petty, wicked and full of secrets of just about anyone else in the series. How truly ironic then that she looks the part of the Queen of Light and her brother a dashing prince charming and yet they are both wicked and flawed people? Did I mention she is also fucking her brother, while married to the King? That is another thing her and I have in common besides just looking innocent but being more flawed than everyone else. There was another Queen on the show – a beautiful, blonde, blue eyed girl who grows into a warrior queen. At the very end she survives fire and she doesn't get burned. I guess I identify with her too, because not only have I been surviving fire and somehow emerging naked but unburnt but Queen Daenerys Targaryen was also fucking HER brother as well. Did I mention I fucked my brother today? Oh yeah, that is some big news. He brought up how he wanted to fuck me but that he was saving himself for something special and then Miss Ego suggested, "Hey, why don't you fuck me anyway". See what I mean about being twisted and evil? Other people think I am just good old pure Jamie, but why would I have done that? Now if he ever wants to tell the story of his first time, it has to be 'with my sister on the bathroom floor' and not with a 'Princess' under the moonlight. He was a little reluctant at first – but I think we both know that there has been sexual tension building and building between us and this was inevitable. I will puzzle over what Chris is really thinking about that (if anything) and whether or not I should have been the one to take a little initiative. They say when you fuck a guy he loses interest and so far I've not heard from Bradley – so maybe there is that. I don't think my brother will "lose interest" in me though, not after all of this we have gone through. Chris has a big cock – much bigger than Bradley and he fucked me hard and he fucked me long. He wasn't too rough, but he wasn't as gentle as Bradley had been either. He wasn't interested in kissing and I am glad because it might have been too hard to look him in the face. He taught me a new position, "Reverse Cow Girl" where I sit on his dick and face away – that is going to come in handy – because I have a feeling that tonight some of these guys are going to look extra creepy. I think compared to a lot of girls my age, even though everything has happened so quickly – I haven't had nearly as much sex as most of the girls on the cheer squad. However, I can say that while he wasn't super rough – Chris was certainly not gentle and sort of manhandled me around – pulling my hair and slapping my butt. I am not sure if it's just the discipline I've received these past weeks talking, but it kinda felt raw, nasty and sexy to do it that way. I guess I should wait until I've had more sensual encounters to really judge – but I think Chris pulling me around like a fuckable rag-doll was sort of hawt. I just hate to admit these things - even to myself. I am not sure what Jerry Springer's people are going to do with us if they ever hear our story – but I have a feeling we are at least a two-parter episode because my Dad made mom get under me and suck Chris's balls. She didn't show the least bit of apprehension which made it easier for me to keep going and essentially fuck him over her face without any guilt. Did I mention I am a porn star? Oh yeah, well just internet porn star famous – which is to say not really famous at all. I have known people were snapping photos and taking videos of us when we did dares in public but I guess I didn't want to think too hard about where they ended up. Chris showed us how there were close to 800,000 views and all these comments on YouTube for just one of our silly videos of us dancing at the County fair that some random stranger must have taken. My first thought should have been 'that's bad!' or 'Oh no!' but instead it was "Wow, 800,000? That is a lot!" I guess I AM super vain after all, and in some way I enjoyed watching myself on the computer. I know, sick right?. Mom eventually came to grips with the fact that we are out there on the internet and once you are out there floating around there is really no reeling it back in – so you may as well accept it. I guess when we start collecting stars again, my mom negotiated for us to make videos. I may as well – there are ones already out there. I like it when my mom negotiates for me – I think she is much better at negotiation anyway. I am going to have to tell her so. I would have probably just shrugged my shoulders and went along with whatever they demanded. I'm beginning to think that something deep inside of me has changed. If you would have told me a couple of weeks ago that I would feel this way, and do the things I've done, I'd have told you that you were loony. Aside from the gory details about another shockingly painful enema, and our preparation for tonight, I have one more thing to mention – the inspection. Usually our inspections are humiliation squared – with us being slapped, poked, prodded and even measured. They usually ask us affirmation questions like what kind of cunt we are, and how come we are inferior to them, but tonight's was the most unusual and positive affirmation I've ever done. I would not mind if every inspection was like that one going forward – Mom even broke down at the end and hugged Chris and I am not sure what Dad said to Chris but from my brother's face it must have made him feel really proud. No one hugged me or told me what a great person I was, and I think I deserve a little break from all that false praise – so I was good with just sort of being in the background for a change. I did start one thing that seems to have caught on – I accidentally called Chris "Master" in the bathroom – probably while dealing with the fact that my cunt and tits are on constant sensory overload from all the stimulation they get in the heat of the moment. I think Mom picked up on it and so did the others that this was a deeply submissive title and now she has begun calling them that. I hate to admit it but I did get a little excited after I realized what I had said. I don't think of myself as a submissive slave, I really don't, do I? I'm beginning to get a little confused about all of this. Dad asked me if I was willing to be a house pet all summer – and in exchange, half of whatever I earn would go towards my college fund. I didn't answer because I have no idea what is in store for me tonight, but I almost said yes, Master. You see? It was my first impulse to answer that way, not even thinking about it. I guess if mom doesn't get a job soon, I'll be the house pet anyway since we are in this together. I do hope she gets a job by the end of my two week suspension. If I had agreed, that would probably blow Mom's mind that on some level I am starting to not mind this arrangement with the guys – I know it blows mine! What am I saying? Obviously this is the most disgusting, grueling, painful and humiliating thing I have ever done in my life. I must just be high on the adrenalin from getting fucked, poked, tweaked and prodded. I think maybe in my mind the fantasy of doing it all summer is appealing on some twisted level – but it's only been two weeks and look at how far things have gone, what would two months of this hell be like and why does the thought of it make me a little wet with excitement? That unanswered question brings me dear Journal to the now. I am sitting here tapping this out on the cell phone I am supposed to be using tonight in case we need to call Dad or Chris for emergencies, which is why I have been only summarizing my day and skipping some points that I should probably have included. I promise when I next get a chance to catch up my journal with everything that will happen tonight it will be much more detailed. We agreed to ride in the back of the truck completely naked – well mom agreed for us and I trust her judgment. Our clothes and some of the stuff we need tonight where in the bag where I got this cell phone. There is also a little igloo cooler with drinks for the guys and we were told we could have some ice chips – You have no idea how good ice chips taste when you haven't had much to drink in so long. Mine tasted like chamomile. Okay, enough typing for now, I am going to talk to mom and everything you read after this, I promise should be in more detail when I have the time to journal my thoughts again. "Did they tell us what to say if we get pulled over on the way out there and the cop asks us why we are naked?" I asked my mom while putting the cell phone back in the bag. "Decide to finally talk to me did you?" My mom was joking like most parents do when you care more for texting than you do talking to the people in the room. "I was just making some notes to myself," I explained innocently. "Well, see that your father never sees your private thoughts. If I thought he saw mine, I would be in deep sheep shit". Was my mom telling me she also kept a journal? – note to self, check her cell phone if I get the chance and compare notes! It does make sense because I've seen her tapping away at her cell phone too. Then again I wouldn't want her invading my privacy – but on the other hand (Is that a third hand?), we aren't supposed to have any privacy or modesty, so maybe it is okay if I am a little nosy? Nah, I'll let her have her secret thoughts like I do my own, I might just show her my journal at the end of all this and see if she wants to show me hers! She is right though – I'd be in deep sheep shit – deeper than I am now if they read my journal. Did I mention one of the guys my brother rented me to (not the Game of Thrones kid) actually said to me "You show me yours, and I will show you mine." My brother does NOT know many boys with much game when it comes to talking to girls. Am I a terrible person that I don't remember that kid's name? "Day-dreaming about what lays ahead? I asked you a question," My mom was trying to get my attention over the sound of the truck's engine and the wind in our hair. We were hunkered down on all fours next to each other right up against the back of the truck trying to keep our head down. "I asked if we WERE stopped, what would you say?" "Hello Officer, could we not do this? If anyone had told me that being naked in the back of a truck was frowned upon, I probably wouldn't do it." I joked. "Where did you get that from?" My mom poked me on the shoulder as a friendly jab. "I had to watch a whole season of Seinfeld on one of my dates, one of the characters said it when he was caught fucking a girl on the desk at his office." I answered. "Damn, I should have tried the old George Costanza technique at work yesterday! Was crawling around naked with your ass in the air like a slut against the rules? If anyone had told me, I would never have done it. I just thought it was not looked favorably upon." My mom pretended she was talking to some CEO to explain her behavior at her job. I need to ask her some time about what she did there – I never thought to ask, which demonstrates again how self-absorbed I can be. We both giggled at that explanation and never did come back with a reasonable explanation to a cop. We also avoided talking about whether we were nervous for what lay ahead. We both were of course – the fear of the unknown. I hate when Dad and Chris are going to punish me and I know what is coming almost as much as not knowing – I can live the same humiliation in my head 100 times before it arrives and my imagination can sometimes be more cruel than the reality. I knew we'd be hookers, and it won't be easy or safe. But having been on that side of town before it is obvious to me that there are women, who wake up every day and that is their reality. They don't just do it a few nights, they do it EVERY night and they get through it. "We are going to get through this," I told my mom. She smiled at me and leaned over and kissed me on the cheek whispering, "I know we will, but thank you for saying that. I wanted to hear it." "No problem Cow-tits," I smiled sweetly giving her a little friendly barb. It was cute that we could joke about things. I thought about what Chris had said earlier today that really struck me as interesting. He said that people who deeply respect each other, sometimes trade quips and gallows humor as a way of dealing with danger and fear. Actually, I am not sure what he said exactly, because I was watching porn clips on the internet of me sucking strangers' dicks at the time he said it – it was something about Star Wars, but that is what I got out of it. "At least I don't have an ass for a face!" My mom fired back in jest. "Good thing too, with an ass the size of yours, you would wobble and fall over, if it was on your face" I quipped back. She scrunched her nose at me and did duck lips and I snuck one back. I get in trouble for making those faces, but it was worth a little one to demonstrate I was in solidarity with my mom. "On dares, I trust you to negotiate for us both," I changed the subject. My mom seemed confused and I explained how she had been a negotiator at work, and that I trusted her to decide for us both. "Are you sure? The guys are pretty clear that I have no authority over you?" My mom tried to convince me to change my mind and I just nodded sweetly that it was fine. "I kind of like you to chime in, as a sanity check, the last time I came out here – things got a little out of hand. My mom explained how on the first night I was rented out by my Brother – dad had taken her to this motel we were going too. She explained all about how shabby the place was and how creepy Rahjid the motel keeper and his wife were. That he had some sort of rivalry with his brother-in-law or something. That originally dad was trying to just get his stuff back from Rahjid and show her off to him to make Rahjid jealous. Then one thing led to another and Dad had somehow made a deal to pimp mom out. She got a little grainy on the detail of why she agreed to that, but the jist I got from it was since this was our first weekend as their slaves, she didn't know the limits and boundaries and she 'walked the track'. She said she fucked a lot of guys, and used condoms to track how many that was ... but that sometimes no condom was used. She had to return the used condoms back to Rahjid so he could estimate how much money she should have to how much she was turning in. "It had been one of the most extreme things I ever did, and still stands out in my mind as one of the times when things just escalated out of control if you let them get away with you. I think your father has learned a lot from the control he has had over us and I know you and I are better at this than we were two weeks ago." Mom said. "Better at being sluts you mean!" I giggled. She poked me on the shoulder again good naturedly and pointed out that we were on MLK Blvd near the motel. Dad had given us explicit instructions to use some of the ice-chips to make our nipples as hard as possible right before we get there for when we first meet Rahjid. We opened the ice bucket and began massaging some frosty chips onto our tits to prepare for our meeting with him without even talking about. I could tell my mom wanted to offer me some other words of advice, but I think she thought her worry and concern might make me more nervous than I already was – and she was probably right. I think outwardly though, I continued to project my normal positive, effervescent but annoying self – and just on the inside was I starting to melt like butter. The truck pulled into what I could only assume was a motel from the signs overhead, "HBO HERE – U PAY" was on the marquis. It was already getting dark so I couldn't actually see the name of the motel amongst all the other lights down on MLK. Dad tapped the side of the truck, "White alert, sluts!" he reminded us in a whisper before adding, "Wait here. I'll go see if he is here." I am sure Chris and him had been strategizing on the truck about how they were going to come off as bad-asses and we were going to have to play along to reinforce that. My mom and I were quiet as the ice we had in our hands melted in our mouths. My nipples felt hard enough to cut diamonds and my mom's looked sore, hard and pink too. I imagine the fact we hadn't been permitted to milk ourselves in hours was also adding to the plump tiny veins that were appearing around her fat nipples. Eventually I heard a man with a thick Indian accent come towards the truck, "This better not be the bullshit, because I have stepped in your bullshit before and I am not liking the bullshit that you shit!" it was Rahjid. Somehow I had been picturing a powerful king-pin type with a booming voice from how Mom and Dad had painted him as a cruel, greedy shark. When I heard the truck gate latch swing down, I saw that he was just a small Indian man with a very thick, black mustache. His look upon seeing us naked in the back of the truck was one of joy, like when you are unwrapping a present. "You are not bullshitting me for once, and I thank you, Mister Bill Taylor." Rahjid clearly had a low opinion of my father – and I wasn't sure what my father might have said to give him that impression but I paid it no mind. "Well whores, quit stalling and hop off the truck so Rahjid can have a look at you and get you money makers working." My dad demanded like a boss. If I hadn't grown up with dad all my life I would have believed that he really talked that way all the time – but I stifled a grin and pretended to be afraid of him. The layout of the motel that I could see was a dozen or so small, concrete block, efficiency apartments laid out around a square parking lot. In the center was a dumpy little pool inside of a rusty gate with their unlit sign and under it their lit marquee. There was one really bright street light over the Office –which was right in front of where Dad Parked next to the highway. In the darkness, it didn't seem like there was anyone else in the parking lot – and that for the most part the motel felt pretty empty. I had to wonder about the person who first built this motel and what their motivations were. Did they imagine families would stop here to vacation? Who would have ever thought that pool looked inviting? I wondered if in the 1960s or whenever it had been built – if they had dreams of it being relaxing, before it turned into the run down dump it was today. The sidewalk went on for miles with fast food places, dumpy motels and old shops. Thankfully there was hardly any traffic on the street right now. Mom slid off the truck first and I was right behind. We lined up side by side right in the parking lot – which sort of blew my mind. I guessed mom had already done this before because she didn't seem as worried we'd get in trouble for being outside naked. She snapped to attention and her tits jiggled like she was smuggling watermelons. I tried to do the same trick, but without as much body fat, I think all I might have managed was to make my knees pop and my ass cheeks clap once. Why did you bring them here naked?" Rahjid sounded impressed but confused. "Cow-tits, tell the man why you and your slut daughter are here naked?" I could tell Dad couldn't think of a good answer. It probably just seemed like something cool to do and he knew my mom was better at thinking up things on her feet from our creative behavior for white alert with Mrs. Waxerman. "Clothes are a luxury for us, and my husband," my mom paused to give herself time to sound out her answer in her head "wanted us naked so you can inspect our goods, and see we are cleaned, shaved and ready to work, Sir." "You are good whore." Rahjid nodded in appreciation, "Since you work that one night I have three other whore but they are lazy and not obedient like you – how come?" We were standing behind the truck and at the angle Dad parked we couldn't be easily seen by the highway. I kept wondering if someone with a big vacationing family was going to check in and see us like this but I think I was the only one who imagined that because everyone else remained as calm as if we were inside our house. "My husband has to discipline us because we can be lazy and disobedient, but he gave us a long affirmation right before we left the house that gets us motivated to be good whores, Sir." I knew my mom thought that last affirmation we did right before we left was something special and this was her way of telling Dad and Chris. What is affirmation?" Rahjid was curious. "When being inspected, or sometimes we get in a special affirmation position ... May I show you Sir?" My mom answered obediently. Rahjid nodded, my mom started to get into the "Doggy" position and I followed her lead. You have to put your forehead on the ground (in this case a disgusting black tar pavement) and then face your ass towards the person you are speaking too, while pulling your ass cheeks apart for them. "They make us thank them for keeping us in line, and show appreciation, and then they ask us to remind them of our shortcomings or something they are teaching us. It reinforces our place, Sir" "It sound like a lot of talk, not make the money," Rahjid observed defensively. "You keep the whores motivated, and then they make more money." My mom patiently answered. "Where are the whores who work for you?" My dad interrupted – no doubt noticing how completely dead the motel was. "No one come out to at least 9 O'clock around here. Those bitches are drunk or having the crack, but you will see that they are good whore too - I assure you." Rahjid didn't sound so sure of himself. "You may want to take my advice on how to keep sluts on a tight leash," My dad said as if my mom's words were his advice – I liked how that dynamic seemed to work between them. "What is this in your assholes?" Rahjid was mentioning our butt plugs. I don't want to sound like I've gone numb back there, but I had actually forgotten about it until he mentioned it. "That is my passport, Sir" Mom answered and before I could chime in with my plug's name, Rahjid asked her to explain. "My husband and son gave us each one as a special gift to decorate our dirty assholes, so that when someone looks at our pussy they don't have to just see our stinky brown eye looking back at them." I just remained silent – that seemed pretty obedient and submissive – right? Okay, I was also a little intimidated to open my trap and become the focus. I almost giggled wondering what Rahjid thought of that because he paused as if overwhelmed that anyone would say or do that. I knew this was white – alert like when we try to shock Mrs. Waxerman, but I actually think that may have been the truth of why we had them in. "What if I like to look at dirty assholes?" Rahjid asked skeptically. "Then you can tell my daughter to take mine out and put it in her mouth and look all you like, Sir." I wondered if my voice would have cracked from nervousness if I were the one talking just now, because my mom delivered her answer flawlessly. There was respect in her voice but at the same time her answer sounded as if she were explaining something as timeless and obvious as the sun coming out the next day. "Why can't I tell you to take it out, yourself?" Rahjid asked. "My husband doesn't like us playing with ourselves unless it's for a paying customer to watch. I am forbidden to take mine out because I might pop it back in and out and play with it, so my daughter takes mine out and cleans it and I do the same for her." "You will be having trick's fuck you in the asshole tonight?" Rahjid wanted clarification. "We are both three hole whores, so I think so, Sir?" my mom answered submissively for us. "How much will you be charging?" Rahjid asked. "I don't know what the prices are? The last time you had rules on what I was supposed to charge, Sir?" mom replied dutifully. "Yes, yes, the rule, I gonna take you inside and tell you all the rules." I got the impression from his manner that he was a little more OCD about rules than I could be. In my case, it is a sense of following them giving me order and security but in his case I think he gets that from making them. I am basing that estimation on my impression of him later on this evening as well – it isn't like he just said 'rules' and I jumped to the conclusion he was someone who grew up feeling powerless and wishing to impose rules as soon as he had a little authority. "It is kind of cool how they can kneel out here naked and no one says anything," My brother observed with his usual sardonic wit. "Yes, very cool, it is so cool that I have no business except for prostitute and drug addict, and cops almost never patrol here, very cool." Rahjid's answer was the perfect mix of sarcasm and the frustration of a failed businessman being confronted with the flaw in his business plan. He seemed to regard Chris as a non-entity and said nothing further to him. I was hoping he would do the same for me. "Stand up daughter." Rahjid commanded me to turn around and let him get a good look at me. I stood passively as he looked me up and down like a goat he was purchasing from market (I would say cow, but they think those are holy). He pinched my left nipple and observed, "She has cold nipple?" "Yes, I made them use ice chips to make their nipples hard." My dad's explanation seemed to sit well with Rahjid "That is very good, very good – she has full breasts, are you sure she is not pregnant?" Rahjid asked my father while squeezing both of my tits. I just stood there like a dumb blow-up doll. "She can speak for herself," I know my Dad's style and he equates being the strong silent type with being powerful. I think he also just wanted me to have to open my mouth and talk. "I come from Bhadrak district of Orissa in India. Daughter who brings shame on family by unwanted pregnancy is often sold into prostitution or to plow field and work farm in country for poor family. This is why you make pretty daughter work?" Rahjid held my arm up while he inhaled the scent of my armpits. My poor mom was left to wait naked and kneeling facing the back of the truck. "No Sir, I am not pregnant - I take birth control pills every day," I added, "I think my tits are full because my mom and I are lactating and we weren't permitted to pump before coming out here tonight." I thought maybe my breath stunk from how long I had my mouth shut because he regarded me like I had just farted in his face when I spoke. Then he twerked my nipple between thumb and forefinger like he was stroking a tiny dick until just a hint of my breast milk emerged from the tip. "This is very, very good!" his eyes lit up and it seemed now he was pleased with me - he asked, "So why you are here?" "My mother and I kicked my dad and brother out of the house a few months ago and my father left behind some things in his room. We are here to make them back and earn some money for our bills and a trip, Sir" I was totally honest – but unsure if he understood. "That crap in your room? I store that junk because no pawn shop will take," I could tell by my father's expression as soon as Rahjid said that that I may have been too honest and just accidentally convinced Rahjid to raise the price. "We were major bitches to them when they got home, so they turned the tables after our little family feud and now we are their..." I tried to change the subject back to how I came to be my father's slut but Rahjid was no longer listening. "Let's go inside, so I can explain rules, and you can suck at my dick." He said to us. "Should I crawl Sir, or may I stand?" My mom's tone was quite submissive. "You will crawl like dog? I like it," Rahjid's answer was no clear instruction and perhaps because it was dawning on me how frightened I was of what we had agreed to do – I didn't offer. I felt a little ashamed of that but no one said anything to me as I walked next to my mother padding on her hands and knees towards Rahjid's office. He gave a curious sounding knock and then I heard chains and bolts unlatch on the other side of the door. A middle-aged Indian woman who would have come straight from central casting at Slum Dog millionaire opened the door wearing an orange Sari (sort of a ceremonial dress). I tried not to look right at the red dot on her head as she looked at me with a very flat almost derisive expression and then she did this head-bobble thing – side to side but tilting. I wasn't sure what that meant but despite the fact my mother and I were both naked she let us enter her office/home as if this were perfectly normal. They spoke in what I could only assume was Hindi to one another. He introduced my father as "Betichod", then my brother as "randi ka larka". My mother on the floor was "Gaand ke Dhakan" or "Dheeli Choot" I couldn't tell which but the woman seemed to chuckle upon seeing our matching butt plugs – otherwise she had a dead pan flat expression. I was introduced as "Bhai Chhod bhayee chod" which sounded pretty ostentatious. "My owners just call me ass-face," I said seriously extending a hand of greeting to what I assumed was his wife. She didn't take my hand, only regarded my seriously. At least it cracked up Chris who saw the humor in the awkward presentation. Chris introduced himself "I guess you can just call me Randy" shortening the Indian name he was introduced with and offering his hand as well. His wife kept hers at her side and looked at him like he was offering her a giant cow turd instead. He eventually awkwardly dropped his hand and that ended our attempt at introductions. The office was also their living room and opened into a kitchen-ette that had the pungent aroma of Indian cuisine coming from it. I could smell yellow basmati rice, ginger and exotic odors that I had to assume was some sort of slow cooking dinner for them. There was a heated exchange between he and his wife and my dad asked "Everything alright?" "Yes, we are just talking, why do you mind your own business for a minute?" Rahjid said very pleasantly before returning to a long rapid fire Hindi discussion that sounded like an argument with his wife. He apparently won because she raised her hand as if exhausted and walked off into the other room. "You will see my niece, who is like your daughter." Rahjid said with something approaching pride. "We keep her in the prayer room," Rahjid motioned down a short hallway that smelled of incense and spice. Led by a chain around her neck, a naked Indian girl about my age with doe-like brown eyes and long brown hair cascading over her caramel butter skin walked behind Rahjid's wife with her hands behind her back. She didn't make eye contact with any of us but didn't seem surprised by us standing in the office awkwardly looking at her naked. I acted as if this surreal introduction were perfectly normal as well. I noticed that unlike our hairless cunts, hers was a deep tangle of brown curly-q fur and I could tell she looked at my hairless cunt silently in shock about how vulnerable I probably looked. "She is a whore too?" my dad asked innocently enough but Rahjid regarded him as if he had just spit in his face. "No, this is Urmila devi das, she was my brother-in law daughter but she became too Americanized and refused to take curfew and be good Indian daughter. He has no use for this, and he cannot discipline, so she..." "She wears the bathing suit in public, holds the hand of boy in public, she is whore" Rahjid's wife spoke in far more broken English than her husband. She spat upon her nieces face in disgust and Urmilla stood there letting it drip down her cheeks. There was a heated exchange in Hindi between them before Rahjid smiled pleasantly at us "My wife means whore like slut, not whore like work on the street." He explained. "My wife and daughter are sluts as well as whores," Dad answered matter of factly. "Yes, I know" Rahjid didn't hesitate to answer. He spoke to his nnece in Hindi and pointed at my mother's ass several times, repeating the name he called my mom 'Gaand ke Dhakan'. My mom took the hint and dutifully spread her ass cheeks while remaining on the floor. While Rahjid was lecturing to the girl, who was probably about my age, my mind wandered back to the flea market a few days ago when I ran into a former member of the cheer squad, Sun-Lee, who was kept in bondage by her family. I don't know the entire story about Hope Miller, another girl from cheer, and I know it's horrible but I take some consolation from the fact I know I am not the only one in this situation. My mom had her 'passport' butt plug out by the time I stopped daydreaming about Sun-Lee and that broom they jammed up our asses to sweep their backroom. I quickly reached behind myself and pushed my butt plug out to display it as well. Rahjid pointed at mine and then to the kitchen while saying something in his language. His wife came back with what looked like a white parsnip root that she had coated in lard. Rahjid gave Usmila a rapid fire litany of Hindi and at the end she bowed her head in acceptance of his words and stood with feet slightly apart. I didn't have to speak Hindi to know that the root was going up Usimila's ass and that is exactly where the wife put it. When Usimila's eyes widened in realization of the anal invasion, I connected with her for a brief instant while the girl stood in silent anguish and humiliation. I tried in that moment to convey my perky and positive outlook and send telepathically, a message of hope and sisterhood that we shared her fate and we would all survive this. I doubt she got all that from my goofy smile but the wife quickly walked her back into a room in their apartment so I would not know. As she walked away I noticed the dark hew of her skin along between her ass cheeks that fades into the lighter caramel of the cheeks and how much from behind she looked like a black girl. I couldn't see the parsnip root, and it's probably a sign I am getting jaded and twisted but I pictured Chris leaving the long leafy stem hanging out like a bushy green tail had he popped one in my ass. I think in some small way I am glad my brother is imaginative with his torments. At least things have been exciting and almost like an adventure. I had a feeling Usimila almost never leaves that room and very little ever changes for her. "Shall we clean and return our butt plugs, Sir?" I asked Rahjid who nodded casually as if it was of no consequence to him. I exchanged butt plugs with my mother and we both put them in our mouths. Then I got down on the floor in the same position as her and as if we had done this dozens of times in the past – pushed our ass cheeks together. Then we reached behind ourselves and as if by luck, for the first time were able to get the plug up each other's ass without help. I couldn't see my mom's face but it probably wasn't as goofy as my pert and perky expression of triumph for getting it right this time. "Why do you do this?" Rahjid was impressed by the little show and frankly, I was too because in the past it had been too difficult. "My father trains us as a team, to work together to clean each other's plug and as we told you earlier, we aren't allowed to insert it ourselves without special permission because he is afraid we will masturbate ourselves with it." I said boldly. "Which we probably would." My mom joked, we were still in white-alert and butt to butt so she may as well go for the Oscar and lay it on thick. "Hah, who are you kidding? You'd take both of them, one for your fat cunt and one for your fat asshole, if we weren't being supervised." I pushed back on my mother's ass with my body like a metaphorical tap to the shoulder as I recalled Chris's story about why in times of stress or danger we rib each other good naturedly. I was wondering where white alert was fantasy and how much of this was true. "You wish, you know your license is big for your tight little asshole, but it would never satisfy my cunt." My mom pushed bumped butts back with me. "Silence, sluts. Can you not see that Rahjid is a very, very busy man and he wants to give you his rules, instead of watch you two play slap-ass?" My dad's choice of 'very, very' was deliberate – it was something Rahjid used often in his speech and my father was half-patronizing and half emulating his speech to ingratiate himself to Rahjid. I could tell there was an underlying tone in dad's voice that was amused - he was playing the strict disciplinarian who thought we were incorrigible. When he actually said, "I try to keep discipline, but these two sluts are incorrigible," I was positive that we hadn't crossed the line. "You do a very, very good job," Rahjid's compliment was probably high praise to my father. "They will only work together or alone?" "They will do whichever you think is best," My dad answered – he was right. "They will suck upon my dick without the condom?" Rahjid asked sheepishly. "Your wife won't mind?" Bill asked in reply looking over at the innocuous woman who had come back into the room without anyone noticing. I was reminded of "Uncle Creepy" the quiet security guard who seemed to always blend in harmlessly in the background from the county fair. He exchanged a blast of Hindi with his wife and then announced, "She knows it is for the test of how good they are." I somehow doubted that was Rahjid's explanation but with the green light, my mother and I separated at the ass cheek and crawled over to where Rahjid was seated. "I am a good little cocksucker, Sir." My mom unbuckled and unzipped his corduroy pants. I've only ever seen hipster boys wear corduroy's, ironically as part of a trendy anti-fashion statement. I moved in to try to help my mother kiss along Rahjid's rather unimpressive cock. "Do you want to give me the love kiss, Sir?" My mom asked him. I wasn't sure what that term was but apparently he did. "I want to give your daughter the love kiss on her pussy!" Rahjid answered matter of factly. It probably goes without saying that Indian people seldom seem to express emotion when they are speaking English, which is a stark contrast to their language which sounds like a guttural slew of insults and arguments in rapid fire no matter what they are talking about. My mom led me on to his lap and had me sit back draping myself over the warmth of her back while she sucked his dick between my open legs. He leaned down and pulled my clit ring to the side and then began to eat me out. His tongue was wet and nimble and I don't know why I said this (I blame 'white alert') but I said "Well, he is NO Roscoe". My mom lost it laughing and I did too when she started in. It wasn't that it was hysterical, but I think given how serious and sexy we were trying to be – coupled with the impossibility of the situation. Oh I didn't journal about that – I probably should have mentioned that today after making curly-q's and trying to practice writing the first letter of my name with my pee in the rose bush for my brother's amusement my dog licked my ass clean. I guess at the time I didn't really think about how disgusting that is – Dogs are always trying to sniff butts and probably the sweat, urine and girl-scent in general made my butt seem appetizing to him. My mom and I even joked about it when Mrs. Waxerman came over. In retrospect it was probably something that should have freaked me out a lot more than it did, but I didn't get time to think about it – I just chalked it up to a gross experience and when dealing with a dozen or more of those in a day you probably learn to adjust and accept them. "Who is Roscoe?" Rahjid sounded a little offended as my belly quivered while I tried to sustain my feverish giggling. "The Dog ate you out, Ass Face?" Chris was smirking at what was probably a fresh warm pink of embarrassment washing across my face. "In Dharmaśāstra sex with the holy cow is to be bringing good fortune, but what is the purpose of sex with the family dog?" Rahjid asked me seriously. "It wasn't sex Sir, he just did the love kiss on me and my mom." I grinned at him impishly. I could tell Rahjid just lost his appetite for girl-pussy because he regarded me like he just smelled a fart again. He left me spread on his lap facing him but only stared at my naked, quivering body. "What happened after you admitted to Mrs. Waxerman that you encouraged Roscoe to get busy on your back doors?" My dad prompted me to continue. We definitely hadn't encouraged Roscoe – it was just sort of an accident of being naked and bent over, but this was 'white alert' so I played along – despite my disgust with lying, this was sort of play-acting. "You stood us on wooden blocks, and beat our asses, for encouraging Roscoe to lick our cunt and asshole and arouse us" I remembered my Mom saying almost that exact phrase to Mrs. Waxerman and Dad outside earlier today. There was something additionally humiliating about describing in detail a punishment you received – and the pain you relive is even more intense than when it was actually applied. It had seemed like a blur when I endured it this afternoon with my mother but now in describing the weights Dad applied to my boobs and clamped to my clit I remembered how the tiny little metal balls would flail and dig into my skin each time he paddled us. "Tell Rahjid what the name of the paddle was?" My dad was very proud of his handiwork. "Mother-In-Law, and he made us kiss it and thank it for reminding us of our place." "Mother-In-Law?" Rahjid didn't like that name "Why not Father In Law, for head of household?" He asked if my father had missed a golden opportunity in naming his wicked paddle. "Mother-In Law, because it is a pain in the ass." Dad laughed hysterically and I could almost feel this connection with my mom as she thought about my sweet and simple grandma in Indiana – apparently the 'pain in the ass'. "Okay, now I see. Yes continue little Bhai Chhod bhayee chod, tell me how you were punished today." Rahjid was delighted. The only other sound was my mother's lips kissing and slurping on his dick which was now rock hard. "We gave thanks for deliverance from our wickedness," Actually my mom said that, but I thought it was such a perfect line from someone as grandiose and over the top as Mrs.Waxerman that I implied it was both of us who said it. I described in detail the 50 swats we received and how we counted each one out in the back yard in front of our neighbor Mrs. Waxerman. I could smell my mother's pussy juices blending with the Tikka Masala and Indian fragrances of their tiny apartment-office and finally Rahjid had heard enough of my mostly truthful description of our torment that he grabbed her hair and slammed my mother's head against his crotch and pumped his cum into her. "Tea?" broke the awkward silence as his wife offered my brother and father a cup of warm tea. They were too engrossed in my recounting of our punishments and watching my mother expertly deep-throat Rahjid to have noticed her until that moment. When Rahjid had finished pumping his last drop of cum into my mother's mouth he forced her away from him and me off him as well – zipping himself up as if he were now ashamed. "Yes, please" he answered his wife. "No thank you Ma'am," Dad answered with a pronounced southern drawl – something he does unconsciously when he is around Mrs. Waxerman as well. I think it makes him feel like a Gentleman Rancher or Gunslinger or something. "We have to get these whores out working soon. I suppose you have a dollar figure I owe to get my stuff back?" "Yes, I think the entire matter of your bill and storage fees, plus interest can be resolved, but let me ask you. Are these whores going to work all week or just until you get stuff back and you will be gone again like the other night?" Rahjid did that head bobble thing his wife had done when she first let us in – there is no way to read his body language when he does that and guess what he is thinking. "No, look Rahjid I won't abandon you, I am a man of my word!" Dad took offense. He didn't look at me and mom huddled naked in a corner waiting for them to finish their discussion. "Your word was to check out with advanced notice of one week, and to pay your rent and deposit, but you did not and your wife work one night and then leave." I could tell from how he pointed out the 'one night' and then leave there was more to it. Why should he be concerned if a street walker works or doesn't work? He explained how he had told his brother-in-law he would make his motel profitable by running prostitutes and apparently his brother-in-law who is much more successful laughed at him. It seems that my mom not coming back the next day caused Rahjid's business model to get rich in the 'pimp-game' to crash around him and apparently he wasn't satisfied with the girls he was able to recruit. "I'm Sowwy Sah," My mom sounded like she had marbles in her mouth. We all looked at her and she held her mouth open with Rahjid's salty cum glistening on her tongue. "Oh she is waiting for permission to swallow," Chris explained but Rahjid ignored his explanation. "You can tell her to swallow it, spit it on the floor and put her nose in it, snowball it into ass-faces mouth to gobble, whatever suits your fancy. We have trained them to be good cum-gobblers." I could hear a sigh from Rahjid's wife, but Rahjid himself was 'very, very happy'. "She can be spitting the cum into a cup of tea and the ass face will drink it?" his face of delight reminding me of the juvenile Waxerman boys when they hear something naughty. "Yeah, if you'd like to see that." Dad, who had only been sipping the bitter hot tea put his white cup in front of my mom. She kneeled over the cup and dropped a long spit dribble with Rahjid's cum into it. Then it was my turn. "Thank you Mr. Rahjid for permitting me to have some authentic Indian Tea." I said with my normal bubbly enthusiasm and then I kneeled over the cup like it was a dog food dish and put my hands behind my back to pull my ass cheeks apart. I started to lap the cum-tea up like a kitty-cat with my tongue when I heard his child-like laughter. "Oh this is exceptional to see American girl to do," Rahjid clapped his hands and proclaimed, "Very, very good". "Yeah, we don't let them use silverware at home," Chris explained but Rahjid ignored him again. He said some things in Hindi to his wife (yelled some things) and then she excitedly offered him some sort of rebuttal. Then she calmly walked into the kitchen and took a cup of hot tea into Urmilla and closed the door – I could only wonder if our 'white alert' might be inspiring Rahjid to torment and humiliate the poor girl in new ways. "Okay, here is what we will do, you will have girls work from 8pm until 3am each and every night and on Friday, I will release your storage, and forgive the debt of your room and the interest and late penalties." Rahjid said to my father while I lapped up the warm tea. I knew better than to joke to my mom, "Do you want some?" but I felt Chris would have laughed if I had. "How much do I get of their earnings on top of that?" Dad said back skeptically. "You get nothing? I pimp to them, and provide also a room, then after this week, then maybe we can talk to each other about the cut of profit!" Rahjid sounded firm. "No, that doesn't work for me, you see there is overhead, gas, food, enemas, you know, that sort of thing." Dad sounded cavalier like he could walk away from this deal at any moment. I probably would have been happy to do that because my stomach was turning flip-flops from how 'real' things were getting and the anticipation of what it meant to work for Rahjid. "You want to be Rahjid partner, then your woman will follow Rahjid rules, if they do not, then Rahjid can fine you, and hold you to be responsible?" There was an underlying respect in Rahjid's haggling. I think he had expected Dad to just fold right away on the first offer. "The same rules your other girls follow?" I took a big slurp in quiet pleasure of Dad's asking for clarification on the rules. The tea was bitter and sour and made my mouth dry – I couldn't imagine anyone drinking this by choice with or without cum and spit dribbled into it. In some way I wondered if the cum probably hadn't improved its flavor – but then I eat dog food and water every day so enjoy whatever I get, right? "No, your bitches are not like them, well-disciplined and attractive, I will be having new rules for them. You can get the other whores to follow these rules and I will give you a cut of their profit as well, is that being our deal?" Rahjid was keen to shake my father's hand now. "No, what is the cut and what are the rules?" Dad and him negotiated for five more minutes back and forth before settling on 40% of the profit for us, and a commitment to work the entire week. In exchange, we were to receive 10% off at his brother-in-law's gas station on everything except Deli, and we would get to stay in one of his 'cottage' apartments at the motel. "You can also work during day, some times during day time drivers, mechanics, and the like will like to screw and I will give you 50% of money during this time". It seemed like Rahjid wanted to introduce new rules – as I said earlier he was a 'rule lover' like me only he liked to create them. Dad had us get into position two in the center of the living room to hear them out. We were facing the guys, naked – of course and bent at the waist. His wife was sitting behind us passively sounding exasperated as she sighed. Rahjid had a sheet of paper with his current rules, although from how he described these rules it sounded like he had a problem enforcing them. There was a knock on the door "Shit, let me in, it's cold out here." said a woman from outside. Rahjid's wife got up to answer the door instantly. "That is the knock you are to be having for security purposes, and you are fifteen minutes late!" Rahjid shouted in frustration while sitting in a dirty recliner and not taking his eyes off us. When the door opened a short black girl with a pretty face in a long blonde wig saw us naked and squealed "Shit! Is this Hee-haw? God damned, you got you another one like Usa-milla from your brother-in-law?" As she walked in out of the darkness the spirited and vibrant youthful face I had seen in the dark seemed to almost transform into something a little haggard and plain looking. I imagine she probably was quite beautiful at one time. "No, this is not like Urmilla Devi Das," he sounded like he had corrected her before on how to say the name properly. "I am about to go over the rules of the pimping game with them. They will be your wife-in-laws." "Oh, fresh meat!" there was a scratchy and street smart tone to her voice as she walked over to look at us standing side by side naked. "Mmm, mhmm, mmm, aint that some shit white people do - bondage? I aint never been paid enough to try it, name is Ronnie and I am the bottom girl, ya hear?" she said looking at us with a sort of intensity like 'this is my bread and butter and you better believe me!'. "You know I am the bottom bitch, Ronnie and you better stop running your little squeaky mouth, hooker!" a thick New York Puerto Rican accent emerged from the hallway. The woman it was attached too had big lips, a big butt and was thick in just about every other place on her body besides her boobs. She had big hair like someone from the 1980s, and big silver bangle earrings. She wore a thin polyester dress and wore big white heels. I would have guessed she was going to a 70's or 80's costume party if this were any place else. "Hello, it's nice to meet you," she came forward with a smile but that curled into a look of derision, "I'd shake your hands, but I see you are playing with your booties or something." she chewed gum while she talked like an art form, it was actually kind of sexy in a shallow and insincere way. She sat on the couch next to my brother and said "Ooh how you doing?" while simultaneously taking out her nail file to give herself a touch-up. My brother acted a little shy and she told him her name was Doris. "Hi Doris, I am Chris," he said back. "Ooh, I want to fuck you, you got a big dick?" She wasted no time making it clear she was flirting – kissing the air with her rosy red lipstick for his benefit. The only thing I could think about this woman was she was equal parts Rosie Perez and that annoying "Jack-ay" from 227 that comes on Nick at Night. My brother didn't say anything back and she didn't take any offense to that - she just kept right on blowing on her nails and honing them. I have to admit – they looked great! "You two bitches are in here running your mouth? I know because I don't hear any shit out in the parking lot." a third and final woman's voice emerged from the hallway and as I heard the click-clack of heels down the short-hallway that led into the living room I expected to see more of the same. "Hi I am Maya, and you must be new?" she stood at about 6'4" in heels, and wore a corset, very sexy fishnets and garters. Her black stiletto heels were shiny and provocative and her tits were enormous – like a porn star. She had long natural blonde hair and a face like Marylyn Monroe. She held her cigarette like Greta Garbo in an old film noir and there was something sexy and glamorous about her that impressed me. She was equal part Jane Mansfield and Jessica Rabbit – and on top of her overt sexiness was a sort of catty enthusiasm. She looked right at me and parted her lips with a pout and gave me a wink like she just thought the site of me bending over naked was the campy and totally normal. She moved with a practiced grace that I would probably never master and everything about her facial expressions seemed exaggerated but intensely provocative and lady like. "Shut up and sit down Big Bird, Rahjid wants to go over his precious rules with us." Ronnie told the woman. "Oh hush your fanny, Jigga-butt, you know that I don't give a shit, dahling!" Maya answered Ronnie in her ribald over-the-top kind of way. She put her hand over her mouth to direct a whisper that everyone could hear right at me "They call me big bird, because I am so tall and positive all the time – Jealous!" she hid her finger pointing right at the two other girls - they knew she was pointing at them but it was all in good fun. It was pretty clear they were all used to bagging on each other and I had to wonder if that was like my mom and my banter on some level. She sort of lit up the room with her presence, and all eyes were on her. She remained standing which made me even more intimidated by the vastness of her presence filling the tiny room. "You will be shutting up please, because the two girls are the wife-in-laws to take the 5B room and you will not be under-cutting them or trying to trick them!" Rahjid demanded. Everyone remained in a casual and relaxed manner around us which only provided a stark contrast to the fact we were naked and bent over holding our ass cheeks apart in high protocol. "Good, 5B smells like dead fish anyhow," Ronnie commented derisively. "That's because you were in there spreading that punani, Chica!" Doris laughed. "Oh, I'd know if it was god-damned Rice and bean fart in there!" Ronnie shot back. Okay, maybe this wasn't quite the same back and forth my mom and I had. "Shssshhhhttt!" Rahjid held up his hand, "Every minute you are here running mouth, you are not running your vaj-jay-jays for the money. So listen to the rules, because these two are going to be partners with the pimp." He introduced my dad and brother and Ronnie immediately replied in concern "Oh nuh-uh, I am not splitting more money with them!" "You are having the same pay-out! Now just listen, they are here to keep the eye on the new girls." "Oh okay, I wouldn't mind fucking the handsome one," Ronnie who had just spit venom at the idea of additional pimps, overtly flirted with my dad. My dad shrugged that he was flattered but didn't answer her. "Yeah, I like the son, he has some meat on his bones, you have a sweet face!" Doris rubbed my brother's chest. I didn't feel an ounce of jealousy and why should I? He is the boss of me and he fucked me today. That's my job to be his cum-bucket bitch and so what right would I have to get possessive anyway? I mean other than he is MY brother and I have to look out for him (note to self: think about if on some level you think no girl is good enough for your brother). It was good to see that he didn't really seem to want her attention anyway though – smart. "Well who are these delicious biscuits in the middle of the floor? That is what I want to know" Maya exuded a sexuality that sent a shiver up my spine as she touched my skin with her long sexy finger. She wore antique over-sized rings that were probably cosmetic jewelry – big rubies and cubic zirconias. "You are Cow-tits, and the Ass Face?" Rahjid asked us seriously and the whores exploded into hysterical laughter. "Yes Sir, I am Cow-tits," My mom was the first to respond after the wave of laughter at our expense died down. "Oh honey, I am the Cow-tits here," Maya cupped her giant DD boobs in the bustier she had on, then stuck out her tongue to reach the nipple. My mom didn't straighten up – she reached over to pinch her right tit and squeeze and after a few strokes a little milk squirted onto the carpet, "That's why they call me Cow-tits, Ma'am" There was laughter this time, but now it was more approving than before. "Okay, and why they call you Ass-face then little Tinkerbutt?" Ronnie asked me. "They call me Ass-face, so I don't get a big ego about my pretty face, and to keep me humble, Ma'am". I replied. She touched her cheek and said, "You better enjoy that pretty face, because out here on the street, they'll use that up quick, and then your best friend will be Maybelline and Avon." her voice had a hint of old-time gospel revival in it when she gave me advice. "Those are some harsh names, girls. You sure you don't want to use something like Candy or Genevieve? Sexy beasts like you should have sexy names." Maya purred at my mother and I couldn't help but smile back as I saw her lipstick glisten over her broad toothy smile. I didn't answer her question but I knew that the answer would have to be something humiliating about these names being chosen for us. Instead, when I tried to engage my brain to send words to my mouth I said "When I grow up, I want to be just like you, Ma'am." I was thinking that but I couldn't believe I said it out loud. There was laughter from Ronnie and Doris but Maya asked "Oh, and why is that honey?" I honestly don't know why I said that. I think just being bent at the waist and looking at this impressive woman – I was overwhelmed. I could only think of a powerful Clydesdale, the horses that pull the beer wagons. How they are over-sized in every way of a regular horse but have this sort of carriage in their movements. I swallowed while I tried to think of something suitable to get me out of this, "You just seem like womanhood personified and distilled." I bleated meekly in response. "You don't know the half of it, honey" she swiveled her hips and I memorized the pattern of her movement. I admit I was truly enamored of her style and presence and impressed – she seemed larger than life in a way that simply didn't belong with the others. Rahjid silenced our discussion and went over the rules he had established for all the "Hos". They booed and mocked like a bad class of 10th graders when they get a substitute teacher for the first time as he listed them off. RULES OF THE "GAME" 1-The Pimps make the rules, and the Ho's suck the dicks. 2-We will never undercut the other bitches, everyone charges the same. 10 dollar hand job 20 dollar blow job 50 "50/50" BJ to get them hard and then fucking 100 dollar 'around the world' (anything) (If the trick wants any "extras" we are to be creative in our pricing along these lines.) 3-Condoms are mandatory, we are to return with the used condom after each fuck and turn over our money, at which time we may be permitted to freshen up. 4-No bathroom breaks, eating, smoking, drugs, or liquor while on shift without permission. 5-No Drama with the other girls "Why can't they just come get another condom? Why bring the old one. All that matters is they turn in the money, right?" My brother had to ask the question twice to get Rahjid to acknowledge him. "Because he is a pervert. He likes to make us cart the nasty old condom across the parking lot and show it to him like a trophy. The same reason he has peep holes in all the bathrooms to watch us take a dump – he nasty." Ronnie said to titters and laughter from the other girls. "Those peep holes were there when I buy the motel!" Rahjid answered defensively without addressing Chris's question "And besides, I need to make sure you are not wasting time on the toilet doing the chrystal meth when you could be making more money!" "Honey, I done told you, I am totally clean and sober, have been for six years!" Ronnie became serious as if she were deeply offended. "Besides the occasional joint!" Doris slapped her on the knee and laughed. "Well I won't lie, there is that," Ronnie became light hearted and joked back. Maya looked at me sweetly, "We are a family here, we get each other's back and we can kid each other." she explained. "Sir, should we stand up and get dressed so we can work too?" My mom had heard Maya but didn't reply. "No, I am having the enjoyment of seeing you two this way, you other girls will stand this way for the rest of our meeting!" Rahjid demanded. "Oh hell to the naw we are NOT!" Doris said and the others laughed. "Do you see, what I am working with? They are the bitches of Naraka!" which I assumed Naraka was some kind of Indian Hell. While the girls became flustered and antsy about having to sit and listen this long, I noticed my mom looking at me for a long time while we held our position – I had not wanted to make her jealous by saying I wanted to grow up to be Maya. When I got the chance and I thought no one was listened I whispered in her ear, "You know you are my number one role model on being a woman." My mom didn't say anything back and I wished she would – I kept wondering what was on her mind. She was so serious and businesslike that I couldn't tell if she was afraid, humiliated, or just humoring Dad and Chris and wasn't nervous or disgusted at all. More importantly I didn't know if I had hurt her feelings by my off-hand compliment about Maya. Some Charlie Sheen Party Night things were starting out as – So far this had been nothing like I imagined it would be. I had the intense feeling though that it soon would be. ------- Chapter 21: Wendy's Journal - Normal is a setting on a washing machine Note to reader: This is Wendy's journal from Tuesday after arriving at Rahjid's motel. In order to increase readability, some of the dialogue exchanged was altered to appear in a 'narrative' story format. The Hindi words that appear in this part of the journal were originally phonetic but have been translated into their actual spellings. New Rules for the Whores: 6- When you finish with a trick, you must return the condom to Rahjid for inspection. You will use your mouth to return the Condom. You will be inspect after each trick, to do the needful. If you have sex without the condom, you will be punished because you must be trying to enjoy the bareback. 7- You will wear the buttplug, if they want the ass they must pay. You are not to remove the plug yourself, and you may not play with yourself. You must ask them to kindly return the plug to the location. 8- If you have complaint or bring drama, you will be punish. 9- If you do not turn the trick each hour, you are to report to Rahjid to explain and be punish. 10- You are to keep your room neat and tidy – no hot plate. You will be given meal-break by Rahjid. Were these a cruel parody of "Bill's Bill"? Had I traded the stability of the limits and rules of his flexible rule system we worked out at home with Bill and Chris for this crudely written set of rules that Rahjid had just dashed out? Surely, his other whores were not going to follow these rules – but then Jamie and I aren't his 'other whores'. We are Bill and Chris's whores and they were already smiling when Rahjid read the first two rules out loud and saw the look on my face. If I begged Bill to go back to his old structured rule system – He would say I am being wishy-washy and probably make us do these things anyway. I think it was more the fact that Rahjid had taken less than three minutes to dash these out and they were in such a crude format – I had a hard time accepting much less respecting them. My daughter – bless her heart is a rule follower to the tee. I know when I was a little girl I was so much like her – If I got a "Red Star" for effort in class, it only infuriated me and made me want to earn that gold star. Note to self: Don't tell Bill and Chris that or they'll use my competitive nature against me – then again I think they already know that. I should probably recap my day for you journal, I haven't been able to make an entry in hours. I was a little 'tied up' – that joke never gets old. I already covered how I spent the afternoon as a doggy like my daughter (and sweet little Roscoe). I think I mentioned Victoria Waxerman's visit and how the wicked old biddy seemed to delight at my humiliation. You know I think when we put those "Obama 08" signs in our yards a couple of years ago I got on her radar as some sort of subversive 'modern-day career feminist' and now that she has seen me humiliated and acting like a slut in heat, I think there is this sense of validation for her that she is morally superior and for that matter superior in all ways. That educated hillbilly probably thinks Rick Santorum is too liberal for her tastes, lol. Hey I don't really have time to talk politics, and I admit I am probably just stalling writing about this again because deep down inside, despite the fun we seem to have as a family shocking the shit out of Waxerman, I think a part of me, that prideful "career feminist" that she dislikes so much, really does feel awkward and ashamed, disgusted even by having to bend at the knee for her. Speaking of bending at the knee, I just finished sucking my first dick of the night. I should probably table my thoughts about Chris and Jamie fucking in the bathroom and my involvement. Even if no one else sensed the sexual tension between those two, I've known about it for weeks and I thought for sure Chris was using his humor as a defense mechanism to avoid fucking us. I think he could get his dick sucked, play with our asses, watch us shit on the lawn, paddle us and torment us, but for some reason I thought he had a gray line on fucking us ... I probably need to stew a little more on that and what it means for us after the training is over. Bill offered Jamie a chance to be a puppy all summer. Can you imagine that sadistic bastard? Wanting to keep his precious daughter naked and crawling with a butt plug for three months over summer break? Why did he not offer that to me as well? Did he just want his Toy daughter as a fuck bunny hopping around the house and figure I would sit at the coffee table watching Oprah while all this was going on? I haven't been permitted to watch TV in so long, I don't know even know if that show is still on the air. I doubt they let the DVR keep recording it so I can catch up, lol. So yes, I have more than a few thoughts about today and journal you probably have some ideas about my feelings already – I promise I'll get back to sharing them but I need to write about our family 'Charlie Sheen Tuesday' while it is fresh in my mind. We weren't even allowed to put on clothes until about 9pm. I understand that, Bill knows it makes us vulnerable and disarmed and he likes to see our little naked asses. He wanted to make a good impression on Rahjid and we've been playing along (at least I hope Jamie has been and wasn't serious about all of what she said) with white alert in front of him to make Bill seem more important. I was really impressed with Bill's negotiation tactics this time around. His last encounter with Rahjid he had let the little Indian man hoodwink and bluff him into just about everything. This time the only thing critical I could say was that Bill was a little too short and sweet for my tastes – comes across too trusting and leaves too many details undecided. I had some bosses like that who were 'big picture' only – they went on to be head honchos at the company and I am a whore, so maybe their approach WAS better. I am in trouble and serving my husband and son in part because I was too critical of them and tried to make them like me – so I really need to learn that lesson. If it won't sink in with this kind of discipline – I may never change. We have to work until Friday to get Bill's high school memorabilia back – okay, I expected we'd be done working here tonight after we got his stuff back and Bill could set up freelance 'dates' back at the house where it is a little less disgusting – and we wouldn't have to split our profits with Rahjid. However, that may be a blessing in disguise as we can do more 'volume' here. We met Rahjid's "Other whores" around 9pm. They are a bunch of unruly trailer park sluts – Ronnie, Bobby, Ricky and Mike, I love the girl, who cares who you like. Okay, that was the first thing I thought when the first whore introduced herself as "Ronnie". That isn't a very sexy name – but then again neither is "Cow tits" which they have all started calling me. The other two are Doris and Maya – I think Maya is my age but she is so demure and sexy it is almost impossible to tell. I have to admit I am a little jealous of how well she purports herself around – it is like she is this sexy Diva who doesn't realize she is standing knee deep in a cow-pasture of bullshit who pretends she is at a fancy dress gala. I am kind of jealous with how classy she can act despite being surrounded by so much broken down crap. I know that sounds negative but I don't even know the name of this motel – the sign isn't lit up. MLK Blvd is notorious in this town as the place you go for drugs, hookers and when you are homeless. If I were homeless I would go anyplace else – why not? You have no home, what keeps you here? The entire area is run down and dilapidated – full of throw away people and throw away things. There are old shopping centers where the K-mart that was there has gone out of business and now a "J-mart" has taken its place selling even crappier knock-off stuff than a K-mart. In between the massage parlors, go-go clubs, pawn shops, liquor stores and check cashing places, there are legitimate businesses that were probably someone's dream – a bakery, and an Italian restaurant. Those places are closed with boarded up windows – those dreams denied out here on the poor side of town. This motel in particular is on a very nasty part of the street. Even the dreamers who thought they would give a go of starting a plumbing business on this side of town didn't bother trying on this stretch of the avenue. On the opposite side of the street I can see a little roach-coach taco stand that looks open and another motel. That motel looks dark and is surrounded by fence and barbed wire. I don't think it's closed down, I think people live there full time and the fence isn't to keep them in – it is to keep everyone else out! After our introduction to the other girls – which we had to do naked and bent over holding our ass cheeks apart so they would know we were beneath even them – Rahjid gave us five new rules he made up on the fly. I think 10 sounds 'official' – the 10 commandments sounds more impressive then the nine or the eleven. I didn't even bother to protest I just withheld a sigh and agreed. Rahjid is obviously a sadistic little man with a Napoleon complex – driven by some lack of authority or power in his life to have it over others. I think if you couple that with his desire to impose some sort of order, but being surrounded by prostitutes who don't take him seriously every day, he decided he wants to take it out on those he can. His wife cooks, cleans and quietly goes about carrying out his orders – but never a word of praise. His niece – well I don't even have time to go into all the scary things about Usimilla Devi Das. The girl is about Jamie's age and kept in some sort of chastity bondage. I've watched a show (back when I was allowed to watch TV) called "Outsourced" that showed how Indian people had arranged marriages and cultural taboos about growing long hair or showing personal displays of affection – but enslaving young girls who embarrass you and shaming them? I guess that is fairly universal to every culture because just last Sunday there was a Korean girl who was probably about Jamie's age at the flea market in the same boat. Is it just coincidence I've started to notice women who are subservient or had they always been in the background and my station in life is making me see things on their level and notice them? My mother is a strong woman, but she was hardly outspoken. She cooked, cleaned and raised three kids while my father worked our farm – would I have thought of her as submissive? Kind of, now that I have been one myself. I think people make a mistake of assuming strength and submission are not mutually compatible terms. I think my mom was deeply submissive to my dad's authority and to her Christian upbringing – but she was also strong and stubborn about her convictions. I wonder how much of my early life was a rejection of that stay-at-home old fashioned mom? I wonder how much of my stubbornly remaining submissiveness to the men of the family, no matter how far they have pushed, has really been subconsciously because of some maternal instinct ingrained into me by my mom? Questions for another time deserving answers – I promised no more stalling and yet I started to bunny trail into one of a thousand thoughts that flit around my mind while I am stuck bending over spreading my ass cheeks for my 'Pimp's. The other girls laughed at Rahjid's rules and left to start working their respective corners – but we remained. "You whores will do the rules as you are told, yes?" Rahjid demanded of us. His rules barely made grammatical sense and they told us 'what' he wanted us to do but not 'why' – I wasn't even sure I wanted to know 'why'. "Yes Sir, they seem reasonable and generous, thank you." I was still in position two with my ass parted for him to talk into. He leaned in close as if my sphincter was a microphone to my brain – and on some level I think the intense embarrassment of being in the sobering lights of his office/home it really was. I wanted him to feel satisfied with the rules and not think that there was a need for more. He wasn't going to come up with anything as thought provoking or well-intended as my husband's rules – which I admit I helped tone down and clarify when I typed them up for him in the computer. All that further rules would do is make life harder for me and Jamie and I may have done that already by convincing everyone to suspend the stars. I really do feel guilty about losing my job and sending the family into chaos – but I will be second guessing for a long time whether I should have not just finished out our sentence and earned our freedom and then got back to normal. Then again – normal is a setting on a washing machine and we are no longer entitled to think of ourselves as such. That was always a bit of an illusion anyway – we had more dysfunctions than many families – the biggest of which was the assumption we were all the 'normal ones'. So here are the "normal ones" – Bill and Chris sitting on filthy chairs inside a tiny apartment that doubles as an office for a roach motel discussing pimping out me and Jamie while we stand at attention in the nude. "You looking forward to sucking all those dicks, Sis?" Chris had always had a sadistic streak since this began but there was a slightly passive aggressive bitterness to his questions tonight. "Not as much as sucking yours, Sir!" Jamie's playful response could have been any sister talking to any brother who ever rubbed having to do chores when they were grounded in their face. "You will submit to the inspect now, to make sure you not steal from office." I knew Rahjid's pretense that maybe we stole one of his cheap elephant god statuettes and stuck them up our butts was simply a pretense to play with our bodies. We answered him sweetly and he started with Jamie. I could hear her let out a gasp – either his finger was cold or he was very rough with his fingers. Then I heard click-click-click of metal scraping metal and Jamie gasped "Please Sir, that's too far!" "You have baby anus, just relax your ass" I could smell my daughter's musky sweet gas with just a hint of cinnamon and nutmeg wafting along with it. To her credit whatever he was doing to her - she didn't complain again. My son asked flippantly "Are you by chance studying for your proctology degree?" But Rahjid ignored him – it was obvious he really only respected Bill. My son treats me like something he stepped in and wants off his shoe some times, but it really burns me that Rahjid just gives him the cold shoulder. After what felt like an impossible amount of time he unclanked what I came to learn was some sort of antique metal speculum to put directly in my ass (Without so much as having one of us clean it with our mouth first). Clank-clank-clank – when it was my turn I sang "Moon riiivvver" an old Chevy Chase reference that my son and husband got – I couldn't see their faces but I heard their giggles. It was all I could do as I felt my entire back door open in a way it had never been before. I could feel the cool air in the apartment suck into my butt and I imagined my ass hole was this big six inch around gap. I could smell my butt sweat and internal gases escape with nothing left to hold them back in and I think a whole new wave of humiliation washed over me – just when I thought I was getting used to humiliation. "See anything you like Sir?" I teased – I thought because I was on white alert it was okay to play around this way and I was trying out Chris's humor mechanism to deflect in times of sheer panic. I visualized my asshole staying as wide as he had it splayed out and not snapping back and the visual was not pretty. "Shut the mouth, this one I do not like." Rahjid announced as he pulled my cunt lips wide and gave them a tug until I felt equally exposed in both holes. "Feel free to punish the talkative slut, if you don't like her attitude." Bill replied helpfully. Thanks husband – oh love of my life. He even offered him some advice on how to do it. "We wrote the Kama Sutra 400 years before your Bible, it describes four different kinds of hitting, I think I am perfectly capable of knowing what I am doing," the fastidious Indian with a speculum holding my ass open replied. "It is a manual that covers virtuous living and the duties and privilege of the wife, and I have studied it well." Despite his confidence I thought I heard a 'harumph' coming from his wife. He seemed to be hesitating and I dared to look up over my shoulder to see what he was doing – despite it all he was thinking. "Please don't whip my ass with that rod, Sir! Anything but that." I wasn't sure if he would buy it, because I made my hint so obvious. I could have waited for him to come up with something on his own – but frankly I was ready to get that speculum out of my BUTT hole and start making money to get us out of this MONEY hole we are in. "The almond tree branch?" Rahjid asked sadistically as if it would inspire fear in me. "It grew in the garden of my ancestral home for twenty years. You think I should use this on your fat, sweaty American ass?" Rahjid became defensive. "Oh no sir! I would never dare ask you to use something important to you, please anything but the branch!" I felt a little silly – because after a week of beatings the branch didn't scare me. I should have been scared though - the first thrashing with it stung because it bit into my pussy and asshole that had been laid bare by Rahjid. "Aaiiiiiieeeee" that was no white-alert act for his benefit – that motherfucker really stung. Even his wife was laughing when I had to take a breath and say, "Thank you Sir for correcting my misbehavior, may I have another?" I thought maybe it was made of eucalyptus or something – there was a chemical on the branch that stung like menthol on a cut. I counted twelve searingly painful thrashes with a branch across my entire ass – Rahjid didn't seem to be very precise like my husband. He hadn't begun with a set amount so it could have been one hundred or five for my offense. I was reduced to tears and had forgotten why I was even being punished by the time he was done. "The mascara you are having is running, and that is very attractive to me, but not to trick. Clean yourself you slut." Someone threw a bag of clothes and makeup at us. I didn't feel him taking it out but the crane-like speculum jaws he had used to hold my asshole apart for the punishment had been removed. "Shall we insert our butt plugs first, Sir?" Jamie asked delicately. I could tell as she stood that she was digging a finger in her crack from the same sensation I had – that we were still flapping wide in the breeze and our buttholes were still wide. "You have to ask? I thought you say the sluts are trained?" Rahjid goaded Bill. I straightened myself up with poise, stood back to back with Jamie pressing our cheeks together and then pushed a butt plug straight into her asshole! Second time we did it without making it an awkward mess –perfect bullseye. Either we were getting wider back there or our coordination was improving. I shuddered to think which it was. They both looked identical so I wasn't sure diamond butt plug was hers or mine – I suppose it didn't matter to anyone else –but probably did to Jamie. We were allowed to dress in the skimpiest micro-mini and half-top we owned and given some high heels that didn't match. I don't think Chris makes us wear things that don't match on purpose – bless his heart but if he only knew that the skimpy outfits themselves were less humiliating than the fact I had on red shoes with a purple skirt and a cherry bubblegum top. "If you are good girls tonight, you will eat my wife's tandoori Naan bread, with some authentic Indian Darjeeling Tea" I didn't even have to see Rahjid to know from his voice that his head was bobbling and he was giggling. "Thank you Sir, l look forward to that." My daughter was wearing a shirt even shorter than mine and a skirt that looked like it might have made a better hand towel but she sounded like a genuine angel asking to be enlightened and try Indian cuisine. "You are not as much bitch as your mother?" Rahjid's question was more of a statement of observation. "No sir, I am a bitch JUST like my mother, I am just better at hiding it," that sweet-sweet girl. I've heard of underhanded compliments and launched more than my share in my corporate days - I've never heard of insulting yourself as a way to secretly compliment another. That is probably why there is no word for doing that – not enough people do. Rahjid gave the key to our 'cabin' to my husband and Bill and Chris walked us there to have a look at where we would be receiving our 'tricks' tonight. I remembered working in these dimly lit one-bedroom rooms two weeks ago but it was all such a blur. I had to light a candle – not to be sensuous but because I think the lights didn't work. When I hear 'cabin' I think of a log cabin with Grizzly Addams chopping wood -these are not that. They are just stand alone rooms with a little space between each unit. The kitchenette, bed and bathroom are all in one place – just perfect for vacations right? "This is quaint," Chris said sarcastically as he unlocked the door and peered into the darkened room. "Cujo?" he asked causing me to laugh – I hadn't thought of that horror movie in years. I don't think Jamie got it – I'll explain it to her later. Ronnie was right – this place smelled like mildew and old ass and it looked like maybe someone had robbed it, but then had second thoughts about this junk and put it back. "Where will you guys be, Sir?" Jamie asked sweetly "I was thinking we would drive around for a little while, maybe hit a bar, grab a nice meal and then come back to the Office. Why, you want us to hide under the bed in case these guys jump out and try to rape you?" Bill was being Bill – his complete lack of concern for us was on one level humiliating but I think on another he was trying to make us less nervous by being circumspect. "No sir, they are going to basically rape us. That is how we make our money right?" I wish she didn't sound like such an angel when she says things like that – It set of my maternal instinct to protect and shield her even if she didn't want that. "It's only rape if they don't pay, hon." I offered a supportive touch to my daughter's wrist. My ass was STILL stinging from the branching I got, and I wanted a drink of water bad – but I tried to remain solemn and reassuring. "So do we just walk up and down the street or how do we find them?" Jamie changed the subject. "No, you sit in here with your finger up your ass and wait for them to knock." I think I was the only one who was sensing a hidden context in Chris's sarcasm. I think he was nervous for us – and rightly so. "If Rahjid makes up new rules for us, do we have to follow them, Sir?" Jamie flashed her baby blues at her father. I think my daughter doesn't really understand the power of her smile and angelic girl next door look. I think she can make even the most hardened heart stop and rethink their actions. "Makes you appreciate my rules doesn't it?" Bill was propping himself up and looking in my direction. "That it does Sir" I answered without hesitation. "Your punishment system could scale like a socket that could increase or decrease in size depending on the nut you are trying to crack – and it was easy to understand." I admitted. "I think you are talking about a ratchet, but I get your meaning. Yes, that was pretty brilliant." Bill was patting himself on the shoulder. I let him feel important without admitting I had secretly come up with the way his infraction, corrections and judgments worked so that they balanced in scope to how big of a rule violation it was. "Do you two cunts need an affirmation to get started or can you get your little asses in gear now?" I looked down at the one bed, and the water dripping from a brown-soaked tile in the ceiling into a pan and back at my husband and son. "Will you give us one without putting that metal thing in our asses, please Sir?" I smiled wistfully at Bill and he laughed and shook his head yes. My daughter and I stripped once again inside our room. We had only had clothes on for about five minutes today – I suppose this would be something we should get used too. We took the 'doggy position' on the dirty brown Burber carpet – placing our heads on the floor almost like we were kissing it and holding our asses apart after neatly folding our clothes and setting them to the side quickly. I heard the sound of an ice cold can of soda cracking open and then the satisfying glug-glug and fizz and my Son's "Ahhh". My lips were dry and I was so envious that he was enjoying it while I was down on the floor – lucky bastard. I have to keep telling myself to take my medicine like a good girl and not hold it against him. I would have (and did) treat him the same way when the shoe was on the other foot. "Where did you get that Coke?" Bill asked. "Rahjid," Chris answered adding, "This is supposed to be Indian Coke, I think they put nutmeg in it." "Want some cinnamon, Sir?" my daughter wiggled her butt at her brother flirtatiously while maintaining her position. She was talking about the enemas we had received earlier in the night containing half my spice rack from the kitchen. "Don't tempt me or you'll be walking around with this can up your tail pipe instead of just that butt plug." Chris got the last word in. "Okay Cunts, let's start with Cow-tits here first since she volunteered you two for this. You still ready to be my good little whore?" Bill started the affirmation. "Yes Sir, I am ready to fuck, suck and be plucked." I tried to channel my daughter's positive energy. "If someone asks why you have a tattoo of whore on your ass, what will you tell them?" Bill asked. "To remind me I am owned and under discipline as a whore and so that I cannot ever deny it to even myself, much less people who can see my fat ass, Sir." I wasn't happy with how wordy that was but it seemed to please Bill. "Who owns that ass?" Bill kicked my legs a little wider apart. "You do Sir." I heard Chris cough before I could add "My husband and my son, are my owners." "Is there anything a trick is going to ask to do to you and your whore of a daughter that you won't do?" Bill asked enthusiastically. "I don't think so, Sir?" I tried to think of all the disgusting things I had done so far and whether I would do them again. I am pretty sure I would and I couldn't think of any new things – but a part of me was a little hesitant and Bill could sense that. "They can fuck you in all three holes?" My husband was making sure I understood my last answer. "Yes Sir, throat fuck me, fuck my cunt or my fat ass," I was instantly reminded of the stinging from Rahjid's confounded almond branch as soon as I said ass. "They can even spank or beat me." I volunteered. "I think your mother is a pain slut," Bill said to Chris. "Are you a pain pig, Mom?" Chris rarely called me mom these days and I kind of wish he didn't. It seemed even more humiliating at times like these than 'cow tits' even. "Yes Son, I am a pain pig," I wasn't sure what one was, and I was tempted to point out that I had endured birthing both him and Jamie but now was not the time to make him or myself feel guilty or weird. "You like wearing your passport up your ass everywhere you go?" Chris and Bill switched off during affirmations effortlessly like a team to keep the energy and intensity up. Chris poked the lid to my butt plug with a finger I think while he asked. "Yes Sir, I am glad your father and you are so thoughtful to give sluts like us a gift. We own nothing and manage nothing because you are the boss of us besides these butt plugs." "You are going to be good girls, keep your plugs clean, and listen to your pimps, even Rahjid right?" "Yes Sir, as always we are obedient little twats to you. Am I to treat him as a key-holder or another Owner?" I asked back. "We aren't following the old rule system, remember?" Chris had a fair-point. The concept of key-holders was under the rules that were suspended. "He is your pimp, but just remember that not only are WE your pimps, but we own that cunt." "Yes Sir, you do." I was oddly excited by the flying by the seat of my pants feeling of not having structure coupled by the familiarity of our pep talk ritual. "Okay then dad, come on I am HONNGRY" Chris announced the affirmation was over abruptly focusing on his hunger. "What? What about your sister?" Bill said something even though Jamie was too polite to pipe up. "You do that one. I need to take a piss." Chris answered. "The toilet is right over there." Bill pointed to a toilet three feet away. "Piss in that fucking cat box? Nah, I want to go somewhere sanitary." Chris thought for a moment "You two better not take the privilege of using that toilet too lightly. You first need to go ask Rahjid if he wants to supervise and time you – you should get no more than three minutes, and whatever you do – don't sit down on the toilet seat!" Judging from how dirty and stained the outside of the bowl was, I hadn't planned on it. Chris opened the thin screen door and walked outside. It dawned on me that Bill had never shut the cabin door and had only shut the screen door on the inside of the cabin. I guess there was no one here at the cabins who probably didn't know we were sluts – so the other whores had probably heard us. "Okay Ass-face, your turn." Bill turned his attention on Jamie "You scared? Don't lie to me." "I am a little bit nervous Sir, but serving with Mom and knowing I can call you and Chris if we get into a jam, I think I can handle it." I would have expected that reaction from a girl getting in her car to drive to college but not for what we were doing. "What was the most fun thing you did all day?" Bill asked. I could sense Jamie's confusion as she went through the day in her head. That is why it is such a good idea to journal this stuff, it all becomes a strange blur of pussy torture, gags and humiliation if you do not. "Don't make me repeat myself, I ask you a question, you disgusting slut!" Bill tried to sound dangerous but it was difficult when the question was 'what was the most fun you had all day'. I don't know what I would have answered – from the awkward licks of Rosco on my ass to spending the afternoon being impaled by the stairwell end piece that I picked out when we moved into our house, there really hadn't been a lot of fun. "Fucking my brother, sir." I would have said the affirmation before we left the house – now that I think about it. Fucking her brother? Wait, that was the most 'fun'? I wanted to hear Bill make her explain this one and he did. "You asked what was the most fun, and the discipline, pain and training isn't supposed to be fun. I could have lied and said that doing white alert around Mrs. Waxerman was the most fun but it was missing something today – Chris wasn't there to be silly and egg me on. I think fucking him in the bathroom was the most fun I had all day, if I had to pick." "That was an unexpected answer," Bill admitted he had expected to hear 'none of it was fun'. "You aren't here to have fun! You are here to make money! Get serious, get your pussy plowed and then get paid." Bill decided to offer another piece of advice, "But if you and your mother can have fun with it, then try too. I really appreciate what you too are doing to get my high school stuff back. It was not necessary, but I think you two are something else and I guess I wouldn't have expected any less than you going above and beyond my expectations. You two call us if you run into trouble. Try to use your common sense about any rules he makes up. It might be better to take a punishment from me than to do something he said that was too dangerous. Okay you snots, if you tell your brother I said all this, I'll tell him your favorite part of the day was fucking him. I love you both." With that he put kisses on his hands and patted us each on the butt, "Now get dressed and get to work." As he walked out into the distance, letting the screen door slam behind him, I could hear him say, 'Chris, get away from that, you don't know where it's been'. "Aww Dad, but it looks cool." Chris said and then I could no longer hear their friendly banter back and forth. I let myself have a secret smile – this was my second favorite affirmation of all time. I was the first to get up and start getting dressed. Jamie and I started talking about strategies on the street and how we were going to carry our cell phone in the waist band of our skirts with a condom. "Should we walk together or separate?" I asked. "Well, in school, usually if two girls are walking together, I've noticed boys are less inclined to walk up to them, so maybe we should try it independently?" She sounded so bookish and wise. She was right of course but I wanted to do it together. Was that selfish? To share this hardship and keep each other company? Was I being needy and clingy? Bad mom! I thought to myself. "You are right, okay let's still stay fairly close at first, okay?" "So how do we do it?" Jamie asked as we left our cabin and walked towards the ominous sidewalk of Martin Luther King Blvd. "I think we prowl up and down the sidewalk, and wait for them to stop. Some of them are going to try to bargain and barter, just tell them the prices." I knew she remembered the prices but we went over those once again. She asked if we had to go back to the cabin for sex and I told her plainly that for blowjobs and quick sex she might as well do it right in the car. "Just don't let them take you too far, jump out of the car if it looks like they are going to abduct you." "Oh mom, jeez!" She dismissed what I said. In the back of my mind I wondered what they might do with a hot young thing like her. I knew most of these guys just want to get off and if they were going to abduct someone – they would just as easily grab anyone anywhere. I admit I can be over-protective. I took on all the housework, the bills, and the work around the house and then I let myself get mad when everyone took me for granted. That is what started this crazy family feud melt-down. "You'll get some looky-loos". I told her about the guys who will drive up, look at her and then drive away only to circle back fifteen minutes later to do it again that I had encountered last time. That is when the first car pulled up, took one look at me and my daughter and said "The young one, hop in." Jamie looked at me and I nodded yes to her and off she went. I could hear him say, "Wow, you smell great" and her telling him it was cinnamon before they rode away. I recall when her friends came over and she had just learned to ride a bike how I worried that she would scrape a knee or get hit by a car – multiply that by one hundred and you have a sense for the fear I had. At the same time, she is older now and sensible and – okay who am I kidding, my asshole puckered by itself and stayed that way watching her drive off. I was alone walking on the streets as a prostitute. This wasn't my first time doing that – but two weeks ago I hadn't been through nearly as much. I was less naïve and less afraid of what might happen but I was also suddenly aware of how empty it felt without Jamie to share this experience with. I felt like I was a Dancer in an old Bob Seger song walking alone down a dusty highway. How does that song go? I remember standing on the corner at midnight Trying to get my courage up There was this long lovely dancer in a little club downtown I loved to watch her do her stuff Through the long lonely nights she filled my sleep Her body softly swaying to that smoky beat Down on mainstreet... Wow, I could hear it in my head like I had an iPOD on and it just seemed to fit this situation perfectly. I kept looking for cars that passed on by to slow down but none did. "It's still early yet," Ronnie emerged out of the shadows. She looks so beautiful from a distance like Halle Berry with a blonde wig but as she gets closer she looks like Chuck Berry with a blond wig. I know that's mean but if you saw her you would laugh. "Oh Hi there, Ronnie?" I asked. "You know damn well who it is," she was holding a cigarette like she was born with it as an extension of her person. She looked at me as if she was going to say 'You aint shit' but as she approached I could hear her say "I aint Captain Save-a-hoe." "I never said you were, Ma'am?" "I aint no god-damned Ma'am either. You aint never better call me that again, or I'll break this shoe off in your ass, you hear me?" she was plucky and streetwise. I had a feeling she had grown up on the streets and she was probably as tough as she sounded. "I am sorry, I didn't mean to offend you." I admit it is really hard to stop calling people Ma'am and Sir once you get into that habit. It sounded as weird to me to stop saying it as it had when I first started saying it to Bill and Chris. "You cannot offend me, what you can do is get the fuck off my corner before I take a bite out of you okay? You see this?" she held up a shiny fork. "Yes," I stifled the urge to add 'Ma'am' again. "I done stabbed three ho's and five tricks with this. I will put a fork in your ass, and that's when you know you are done. You feel me, I done told you, I am not Captain Save-A-Hoe out here." "You keep saying Captain Save-A-Hoe, what does that mean?" I should have just walked away before I got tetanus or worse from that fork but I have to admit I was curious. "It means I aint out here to hear your bullshit sad sack story, about why you used to be god-damned Mrs. Brady with a Homecoming Queen for a daughter, and how you working your way through college and all that drama. If you are expecting me to talk sense into your fool head about getting out of the game, then I aint the one." "No, Mah..." I was about to say Ma'am when I caught myself. "I would never ask you to talk me out of this." "Then why you walking out here on the street for? You know you two look too white-bread for meth-heads." Ronnie asked skeptically. In the darkness by the cherry-light of her cigarette she once again looked like a rare beauty. "You would probably never believe the story I have," I smiled thinking back on how things had evolved from simply wanting the guys to take out the trash. "You don't think we all got stories out here? You would believe I was once a god-damned English teacher? It true. I aint lie – You probably some white bread house wife bored with your life. Swinging on the weekend with the neighbors aint enough of a thrill - so now you out here selling booty for a thrill." I did not want to argue with her – obviously she was wrong about my motivations but the full story would take a long time to tell and Jamie was already ahead by one customer. "You hit the nail on the head," I know we get in trouble for manipulating and lying but Bill DID say "white alert" and that means I can lay things on thick. In a way we are really doing 'black alert' now – the special protocol Bill and I had about me at work where I basically pretended to be a sex addicted ding-bat who needed someone to control me. I wouldn't say 'black alert' to Ronnie though – I think she'd take that one the wrong way. 'You go on now then and get you some of your fill fucking for money on the street so you can take that back witcha to the bridge club. I aint gonna say nuffin about you and that underage daughter of yours neever." I thanked her and walked back towards the motel. It was still early and other than a 'looky-loo' slowing down to look at me and drive off no one was biting yet. I had time to take out my phone and tap out a little of the journal you are reading now while I stood on the side of the road dressed as a street whore waiting for someone to pick me as a fuck buddy. I kept looking for Jamie and wondering if she was okay. A black sedan pulled over and rolled down his window. I sauntered over all sexy like and asked, "Are you looking for a date?" I popped my shirt down over my shoulder to reveal my nipple to him and he smiled at me. "Oh no you did not, Cheek-ah" I heard the thick accent of a very annoyed Doris coming from behind me. "This is my spot and my regul-ah, and I know he is here to fuck me in my little chooch-ah, aren't you Tommy?" "You know I love you," I could see in his eyes that he wanted me but he was conflicted. I backed out of the window and turned around to face her and apologize. "Tommy cums every week for Mama-cita Doris, don't you baby?" she gave me a nasty look while her voice dripped with sugary sweetness and hopped in his car to ride down a side street. "Shit," I said out loud as I struck out twice. Maya emerged out of the darkness as if in response to my concerns and said, "Don't let a little rejection get you down, baby - It is a numbers game." She stuck out her thumb at a passing truck and just like that he stopped and let her in without a word. She blew me a kiss as she breezed into the passenger seat. "Oooh, a cowboy, I love cowboys!" she giggled to the driver. She made it look so easy. There still wasn't a lot of traffic and I didn't expect there to be on a Tuesday. I had been lucky that Monday I worked because there weren't any other girls there and I could turn tricks almost back to back. I think the fact they were lined up for me and it just kept going nonstop made it so much easier to accept. This lonely last girl standing on the sidewalk stuff was playing hell with what little ego I had left. A disgusting homeless man was walking up the street – the backpack on his shoulder probably holding every possession he has in life. He looked me up and down as I greeted him, sighed and kept walking. I didn't expect he had any money anyway. "Hey, you!! The Cow Tits!" Rahjid whistled to me from behind a glass window in his office. I hustled over to where he was standing "Yes Sir?" "You are not trying the hardest to get them hard," He smiled at his play on his words. "Yes Sir, I am trying, it's just slow." "You need to smile, you look like you smell the fart!" he grimaced at me. I wanted to reply 'that was some pep talk' sarcastically but I was still feeling his punishment from earlier so I wasn't going to try to be cute with him. I smiled and put my shoulders back, then walked back out to the sidewalk when he gave me leave to do so. It took three more looky-loos and drive-ups before I finally got a nibble on my line. He was driving a yellow mustang and he said, "Do you do everything?" "Anything and everything, Sir" "I have ten dollars," he offered. He was middle aged, unshaven and looked like the typical middle-class family guy. I wanted to ask him if he thought anyone would do 'anything' for ten dollars but I bit my lip and offered "I can beat you off for ten dollars, Sir?" "I can beat my own self off, that isn't very much." He groaned as if I had upset him. "I am sorry Sir, for one hundred I can take you back to my cabin and rock your world though?" "A hundred, that is a little much for you isn't it?" that was amazingly hurtful coming from a stranger who was checking out my body and wanting to have sex with me. There was a time when that would have been devastating but as it was it was just hurtful. "You are probably right Sir, I am not worth a hundred, how about twenty for a blow job or fifty and I'll suck your dick and let you fuck me?" "Raw dog?" He sounded skeptical. "Condom sir, but I promise you'll love how I put it on." I held up the condom packet I had in my waist band and made the universal 'dick sucking' motion with my head to entice him. "Fifteen and you suck my dick and balls," he haggled like it was a real imposition to even get a blowjob in the first place. "You aren't making this easy Sir, how about twenty and I promise you, I am a first class dick gobbler," I stuck my index finger all the way down my throat and pulled it out with a kiss. I had been 'throat training' for two weeks now - I was pretty damned good. "You got a room?" he asked. "Yes Sir, or I can hop in the car and slob your knob right there, curb side delivery service." I winked at him. He didn't seem to think my flirtations were that adorable – which again was humiliating in and of itself. I feel like chopped liver or there is something wrong with me – given how critical this guy is of coming off twenty bucks. Am I wrong to think I look good for my age and that he should consider this a bargain? Is that "prideful" of me? Is this what true humiliation feels like? I thought having to fuck strangers as a whore was going to be the worst part of tonight – but the rejection and the self-doubt is really more painful than sitting with my kitchen chair leg up my cunt while Mrs.Waxerman sneers derisively at me and that is saying a lot. Don't get me wrong – sitting on that chair was physically painful but I think my pussy will heal faster than my growing self-esteem issues. It makes me wonder if Chris's friends were just being kind when they called me a 'MILF'. So far it's just been intense embarrassment for having to show my tits and ass to strangers – but for the most part they want to see. This is something far more agonizing – offering my open mouth to love this guy's cock and he thinks twenty bucks is too much to ask? Ouch! Either I am hungry as hell from not eating anything but a bowl of dog food and a little cum, or watching this guy make up his mind whether it's worth it to get his dick sucked by me really hurts. I think a little of both – Bill promised he would give us some food if we rode in the truck nude but I think he meant after we finish working. Gah, I am famished. "Sure, why not?" he pulled his car over into the parking lot. When I told him 5B was a few cabins further down he acted like it was an imposition to make him walk three rooms over. I tried to smile invitingly –despite finding myself intensely disliking the guy despite the fact I was about to let him fuck my mouth. He complained as soon as I opened the door to our room – we hadn't bothered locking it because there was nothing of value inside. He was entitled to complain about the mildew smell, that was pretty bad and it only enhanced the otherwise seedy and disgusting aspect of what we are about to do – trade sex for money. I promptly got down on my knees with practiced precision as I had been doing so often this past week and started to unzip his pants with a playful smile. "You aren't even going to get naked?" he was disappointed. "Oh no Sir, I'd be happy to strip for you," I tried to sound bubbly and effervescent like my daughter but it came off a little forced. He looked at me like I was nuts as I stepped out of my outfit and put it on the bed. "I like the piercings!" He commented casually while putting a finger through one of my nipple rings and tugging down on it. The mean bastard then put a finger in my pussy and wiggled it around "You even shave down there, very nice". I kneeled again in front of him with an accommodating smile on my face. I didn't want to admit the thoughtless pig was turning me on – I also didn't stop him from continue to finger me while I took his dick out. He started to pinch both of my nipples roughly after he took his finger out of my pussy. There was nothing sensual about it – it was as mechanical as some of the nipple milking exercises the guys have us do. I opened the condom package and put it on my tongue so that I could roll it down his dick with my mouth and began to suck. He didn't even acknowledge how clever that little trick was. That is why I felt a little sense of satisfaction when he accidentally squirted himself in the eye with a stray spray of my breast milk. "WTF was THAT?" he demanded. His cock was big but not so big I couldn't talk while giving him an expert hummer. I had already adopted the 'Bubble-Bubble Pop' song's rhythm my son had trained us to hum in our head when we give a hummer. "That is breast milk, Sir." "Gross! It's me who is supposed to squirt on you," he let my nipples go abruptly and wiped his face. If Bill had seen me play with my own nipples without being told I would have been given a punishment but he wasn't here –and right now I wanted to touch them in a way that turned me on. I could tune out this disgusting man and just make love to his cock. I have to wonder if the constant discipline and sexual energy of the training has changed my standards forever - I am actually turning myself on while I gobble this stranger's cock wrapped in latex. I wonder the same thing about how actually encouraging Jamie was to Chris about fucking him – are we becoming nymphomaniac sex beasts? Could it be the hormone pills that the guys gave us to start lactating? I think it is a common desire to want to blame some outside 'magic pill' or say you were hypnotized that way you don't have to take responsibility for your actions – but in the back of my mind I really do wonder how much of that is contributing to the fact I don't have any guilt about deep-throating a strange dick for twenty dollars. My trick (I don't even know his first name) just patted my head like a puppy and called me "good girl" – Okay, let me qualify my last statement. I am not registering the kind of revulsion, shock and disgust I should be about doing this. I am actually prolonging his cumming by teasing his dick playfully with flicks of my tongue. The screen door squeaked open and I looked up but kept my mouth stuffed full of cock. I also didn't take my fingers away from tweaking my nipples. It was Jamie "Oh Hi Mom," she said while leading a man twice her age into the cabin. "Should we wait outside?" "You can use the bed, I am almost finished." I choked a reply over the latex while holding my own hair up. (I don't know why I do that while I suck. I think it's just a nervous habit or I am used to having my hair pulled now). "God damn, I could have fucked your hot-ass daughter?" my trick didn't seem to be the least bit surprised by the intrusion. Instead, he was watching her get undressed as the man she brought in looked at us nervously. "Please cum for me, Sir ... I want your load..." I begged while taking a deep breath. I will admit I was also a little jealous that he had tuned me out completely to look at Jamie's pert, youthful body. "Why do you care? I am going to spunk in the condom anyway." He sneered back at me while looking back over at Jamie who was trying to coax the man she was with to get naked. I didn't blame her for not wanting to share a room with us while I sucked a stranger's cock. "Fuck it," I thought to myself as I unsheathed the ribbed condom from his dick. I'll just spit some of his cum into it at the end. I have to admit the warm, soft flesh of the dick made it much easier for me and within thirty seconds he was blowing his wad into the back of my throat – but still looking at my daughter who was kneeling on the bed smiling patiently for us to finish. I told you earlier I was hungry and had only eaten a bowl of dog food this morning. I fucked up in a big way – I swallowed his hot cum. "Shit, shit, shit," I cussed instantly regretting the decision to consume his entire white gift to me. "I am out." he slid his dick out of my mouth, grabbed my skirt that was laying nearby and wiped himself off, threw down twenty bucks and left without so much as a 'Wam-Bam, Thank you Ma'am' on the way out to me. "Mom, you've got to get the money up front," Jamie chided me in her typical upbeat manner. "I accidentally swallowed his cum. I was going to spit some of it back into the condom." I said in shock as I remained kneeling. "You could tell Rahjid he didn't cum?" Jamie offered friendly advice. "Little miss honesty – advising me not to take my punishment?" I was already stepping into my now cum-stained skirt. Her trick was patiently standing there listening to us – probably thinking we were ultra-perverted street whores. "Rahjid isn't Dad or Chris," Jamie said as if that made a difference as to who she lied to too now, "But you are right, you should probably just let him punish you and get it over with. It was just ten swats with that branch thingy last time?" Jamie patted the bed beckoning her trick to have a seat next to her. "That thing hurt!" I grumbled while slipping into my shoes. "Oh you big baby," Jamie threw a pillow at me playfully and I took that as my cue to get out. "I'll leave you two love birds alone." sticking the used condom in my mouth like chewing gum and walking over to Rahjid's office to submit myself to his discipline. This was turning out to be some night. ------- Chapter 22: Joke Em' if they can't take a Fuck Note to reader: The story returns to the normal narrative voice CASH EARNINGS TUESDAY WENDY: $120 JAMIE: $270 Wendy let the screen door close as she walked out into the parking lot with a used but dry condom in her mouth. Her daughter was in the cabin on the bed with a strange man and she could hear her daughter's effervescent giggles as she walked out. They had a job to do but it didn't make what she was feeling any easier. Wendy wondered if Jamie was acting the part of the playful giggly teen or she really was enjoying this – or if Jamie even knew herself, what she was doing. Wendy had been humiliated and punished for two weeks now on a consistent basis but she was having new feelings that were gnawing at her. That coupled with hunger and exhaustion was taking their toll on her self-esteem. Her daughter and Maya had found it easy to hop into a car without any negotiation and find a trick. Jamie seemed to be taking to their mission to make money more easily than Wendy had hoped. She felt guilty that she was having these thoughts – would it really be easier if Jamie were scared and shocked by what they were doing? She knew it was for the best if her daughter let her positive attitude carry her through this experience, but at the same time Wendy thought, "The slut doesn't have to be SO happy about it." She smirked because she was half-teasing when she thought about her daughter. She was walking towards the lit Office window where Rahjid and his wife observe their parking lot like hawks. They are nosy and anal-retentive so they would have seen Wendy's client walking off. Wendy had felt a new form of humiliation with that man as he awkwardly prodded and poked her most private places with his fingers. He had only paid twenty dollars for her best blowjob and the fact that he didn't even think that was a bargain had only made her try to give an even better BJ. She didn't want to admit to herself that not only had she been turned on by the experience- but something about how indifferent he was to her had given her a sexual charge. She thought about when Bill and Chris had left her standing naked on the chair in the living room and treated her as if she wasn't there and wondered if on some level that hadn't been what was happening to her. "God, I am so disgusting." Wendy admitted to herself but quickly turned her thoughts to how 'fat-assy' she felt right now. She had great tits, a pretty face and had worked out almost obsessively before the training began – she was by anyone's definition of "MILF" – A MILF. She had been told Stifler's mom had nothing on her when it came to hot moms and even though she hadn't seen the "American Pie" movie series –even she got that reference. However, right now at this moment, she was feeling particularly ugly. It wasn't just the tacky trailer park clothes that didn't match. She had seen the other girls jump into cars without any effort and yet she had to really work to get this one trick to let her suck his dick and he was nothing but a bum. There was Ronnie – who was standing in the corner like a spider in her web waiting to catch a fly. However, the fact that Ronnie's face when you got close to her was so unattractive it only made Wendy feel like maybe hers was just as harsh and rough. Wendy would have time for self-loathing and doubt later – she had to turn in her money and condom. "Hello Sir, Twenty Dollars." she slid the money through a small opening under the thick plated glass Rahjid was behind. "Condom please?" Rahjid asked in a businesslike manner. Wendy took it from her mouth and placed it like chewing gum one has to spit out into a napkin in front of her teacher onto the twenty dollar bill. "There is no cum in the condom?" Rahjid asked curiously. "No Sir" Wendy looked out into the darkness of the parking lot for her son and husband as if hoping for their intervention. She had no illusion they would stop the punishment but at least administer it fairly to match the size of her infraction. She wondered if they were at least watching the parking lot for signs of trouble – but she imagined they were at a Hooter's some place enjoying wings and nachos trusting Rahjid to handle his business like he did every night. "I accidentally swallowed the cum when I was peeling off the condom with my mouth," Wendy said when she realized Rahjid was waiting for an answer. Chris and Bill liked to make the girls talk explicitly in their affirmations and not just say 'Yes Sir' and 'No Sir', but she hadn't thought that would extend to Rahjid as well. "Accidental?" his facial expression never changing. "Okay Sir, I drank the cum because I was hungry, I am sorry I only intended to drink a little." As soon as Wendy admitted the truth and heard her own voice saying it – she felt a new wave of humiliation wash over her. Had she sunk this low? Would she sink lower? The answer was yes on both counts. "Meal break is not for four hours, you are already complaining of being hungry?" Rahjid replied in a surly manner while looking at his wife who returned his gaze with condemnation for Wendy. "Yes Sir, I suppose I broke a rule and you will punish me?" Wendy wanted to hurry it up so she could get back to making money and maybe catch up to her daughter. "Shall I come inside for ten swats of the cashew branch?" "No, your sweaty ass will only put its stench upon my family heirloom." He talked to his wife in Hindee while they discussed Wendy's punishment. He pulled out two thick rubber cords from his drawer and handed them through the window while pulling in the twenty. "Put these on," he said. "Where Sir?" Wendy said with confusion. "Right here." Rahjid said as if that should be obvious – but completely missing her question. "I mean what do I do with them, Sir?" Wendy asked meekly. "You put them around your giant American knockers," Rahjid cracked a smile with a hint of sadistic delight. Wendy lifted her half-shirt obediently and tried fruitlessly to roll the first one over her engorged nipples. "No, you are dumber than most American women." Rahjid spoke to his wife rapidly and in moments she stepped outside draped in her orange Sari. She took the first looped cord from Wendy and then unsnapped it so she could wrap it around the base of her tits before snapping it back. Wendy instantly felt the bite of it but she didn't want to give Rahjid's wife the satisfaction of seeing Wendy express discomfort. "I can do the other one Ma'am." Wendy sucked in her breath, while attempting to unsnap the other cord. Rahjid's wife smiled at her like she would an uppity child who thought they knew how to open a tamper proof bottle but couldn't. His wife applied the second ring to Wendy's other boob and it was only a few moments before Wendy felt like the blood-flow was slowing down. Despite Wendy's effort to mask her discomfort out of prideful stubbornness – the Indian couple could see it in her eyes and they were satisfied. "You earn 300 dollars without gobbling all the cum, and they can come off, otherwise you have purple tits until morning." Rahjid sounded outright cruel. "What will I tell customers, Sir?" Wendy asked with a trace of a pout. "You will say when you earn 300 dollars you can take it off, and if they care enough to ask, would they like to fuck you enough to earn it all." Rahjid spoke dismissively while his wife returned into their little office. "Now stop standing there and get back to the work you are doing." "Thank you sir." Wendy had developed a small tear in her eye – she couldn't tell if it was from emotional exhaustion, the weight of this experience or the new sensation of blood flow restriction happening in her tits. Wendy had been a strong, modern woman who was fierce and independent. The bitter realization that had been setting in, of her becoming not only a dirty little whore but that she was enjoying it on some level, was making her very conflicted. She felt embarrassed she was even admitting these things to herself. The question was, could she admit them to Jamie or at her affirmations? Wendy had more pressing things on her mind than trying to process all the ways she had been altered by this experience. She needed to find someone who was willing to pay to fuck her and the way she felt right now – she wondered how anyone would want too while she walked up and down the sidewalk. Traffic on the road had picked up from earlier but there will still only a handful of cars at any one time. These could just as easily be people on their way to one of the liquor stores, adult book stores, bars or pawn shops whose neon signs were lighting up the Avenue. Wendy was reminded of her night at the County fair with her son walking her down the midway – all the lights and crowds bumping into her. She had felt humiliated but with each leering glance and 'accidental' elbow into her boobs from a passerby who had only made it seem like an accident – she had felt 'sexy' and 'wanted'. The fact that cars seldom slowed down to get a good look at her was hurting her in a new way. "Speaking of new ways to hurt me, fuck this rubber band thing hurts." Wendy rolled the rubber band around the base of her tits a little – she was already feeling it restrict blood flow and rolling it alleviated that somewhat. Wendy licked her lips – tasting the sweet taste of cheap waxy lipstick mixed with the sour, acrid flavor of cum. She adjusted her tits slightly and wondered if that little bit of cum had been worth such a painful punishment. A thought flitted through her head – "Had I purposely got myself punished to get a little validation and attention?" She quickly buried that thought. "I'm not that twisted." from whichever side of her subconscious was playing devil's advocate proposed that response. Her mind flashed back to the mental images and flavors of Jamie's pussy juices dripping down her son's dick as if to offer a silent 'Actually you kind of are that twisted'. Wendy would have to put aside her questions – she saw that Maya was stepping out of a different car from the truck she had hopped into only a few minutes before. She gave a playful goodbye to a very satisfied Mexican man before walking away with the grace of Vivien Leigh stepping into a fancy ball in Gone with the Wind. Wendy admired her beauty but couldn't help the feeling of jealousy rising in her – 'if only I could get a little of her mojo' she thought to herself. Wendy was about to talk to her as they crossed paths on the sidewalk when a small green Chevette pulled up to the curb. "Oh no honey, you have to be THIS tall to ride this ride." Maya instantly recognized the driver and held her hand flat over her crotch. Wendy could tell he was a midget "Or do they like to be called Dwarves?" she wondered. "Please baby, I've got fifty bucks!" the child-like voice of the man in the driver's seat pleaded. "Hah, fifty bucks wouldn't get you the sweat from my tits, honey." Maya's rebuff had a playful gaiety to it while also remaining somewhat demure and aloof – as if she were simply above any pettiness. Wendy had to admit it was a perfect balance of blunt and sexy. Wendy thought back to the price list she had been given and wondered if Maya followed it or was just saying that fifty wasn't enough as a negotiation tactic. "You can probably fuck my sister here, she is new to the streets" Maya saw Wendy shyly standing a few feet away and beckoned her over like she was going to introduce a debutante at a cotillion. Wendy's jealousy diminished a little now that she was introduced as a 'sister' of the streets – the acceptance of Maya meant something to her on some level. "I didn't mean to interrupt." Wendy excused herself for eaves-dropping but then felt a little foolish since Maya didn't seem to mind her being there anyway. "Brand new? I saw this bitch here before," the midget said skeptically. "Yes Sir, I was here a few weeks ago but this is my second night" Wendy peeked into the window at the little man. He didn't seem to like her making eye contact with him and he looked down. "You ever fuck a midget?" he asked Wendy. "No sir, but there is a first time for everything." "Twenty bucks, no condom?" he said. "I have to use a condom, and I can give you a first class BJ for twenty Sir?" Wendy said with some trepidation and nervousness. The little man drank in her nervousness – there was something very attractive to him about Wendy's low self-esteem and vulnerability but he didn't let on. "You will like this one, she is really sweet, so is her daughter" Maya's compliment was genuine without a trace of sarcasm and now Wendy felt a little petty for having been jealous of her earlier. "Shit, I should just fuck the daughter then," the man said. "She is in our cabin with someone else, but I promise, I'll treat you really well Sir." Wendy instantly regretted sounding so corny. She had wanted to say something sexy and only managed an awkward come-on. "Can I fuck you both at the same time?" the man had been cold and businesslike earlier but on this question he could not contain his excitement at the prospect of fucking a mother and daughter team. "I think for a hundred we could both suck your dick and maybe fuck you?" Wendy sounded very unsure of herself and the price she was asking – she knew the price list but she didn't feel comfortable setting up a date for her daughter as well. "Fuck, this better not be bullshit. Get in, we'll go to the ATM", he had dark brown hair and a scruffy three-day growth of beard on a head that was simply way too large for his body. "I should leave you two love birds alone." Maya politely sashayed away and it didn't take long for her to end up in another car a little further down the sidewalk. Wendy sat on the leather seats and found herself scrunched in because the seat was pulled all the way forward. "They call me Mini-Me, because I'm..." he became distracted while driving. "A midget, Sir?" Wendy finished his statement for him. "Hell no, you can't say that word, only we can. It's like the n-word for blacks!!" Mini-me was serious but he wasn't offended. He was used to being teased for his height but at the same time he had a chip on his shoulder over it. "I figure make fun of yourself, and that takes all the fun out of it for all the assholes. I call myself something negative and they can't think of anything worse". Mini-Me had been called "Tattoo" as a child. He had been forced by bullies to say "Da Plane" and even "What you talking about Willis". He had developed a gruff exterior but he also embraced the hurtful names and stereotypes that taller people could think up. He wore the nickname "Mini-me" to spoil it for the tall people. "That is a very good idea, Sir." Wendy felt bad about what she had said earlier. "I am sorry for offending you, then Sir?" it sounded so natural to say that after weeks of submission training that it just seemed like the right response. "You are a whore with big-tits, what else are you going to do? So what is your name anyway?" he asked dismissively. "Well you are going to laugh," Wendy said with a half-smirk. "Try me," Mini-me had been jaded. He was a regular on these streets and Maya wasn't the first prostitute to turn him down- which hadn't done much for his own self esteem. "Cow-tits, Sir." Wendy admitted. He chuckled "You are shitting me?" "No Sir, my daughter's name is worse, it's Ass-face." Wendy for the first time was smiling when she said that because she realized how ridiculous it sounded. It also seemed to delight Mini-me. "You call yourself the worst thing you can think of, because it takes all the fun out of it for people who want to give you shit?" Mini-Me was pulling into a shopping center to find an ATM machine while asking if they followed his philosophy of putting himself down before anyone else gets a chance too. "No actually, it still seems to amuse people." Wendy admitted. "Joke 'em if they can't take a fuck." Wendy had heard her husband say the same thing Mini-me did. "My husband says that sometimes, Sir." Wendy admitted. "He know you are out here trying to earn a buck?" Mini-me had not wanted to hear Wendy had a husband, but he wasn't so naïve he thought he was going to be having a relationship with her anyway. "He is my pimp, he gave me the name Cow-tits, Sir." Wendy had intended to answer his question but knew that it sounded pretty critical of Bill. "Sounds like a first-class A-hole, hope I never meet him. So can you start sucking my dick now and then we'll settle up after we get to the motel?" Mini-me didn't beat around the bush. "How about you get the money first, and then we can do it all at once Sir?" Wendy offered politely feeling a little more confident with him. "And my Husband means well, I just treated him poorly and so this is kind of payback." "So fucking me is payback to you for being a bitch?" Mini-Me opened his door but glared over at her. "No, no, not you specifically- We agreed to those names and these rules because we were meanies. It's sort of a long story." Wendy answered more politely. "Oh and because I am short, I don't get long stories?" Mini-me didn't wait around to hear her answer to his snide remark as he waddled over to the ATM. He jumped a little to hit some of the top buttons – and looked back over at the car to glare at Wendy as if she shouldn't be watching his own private little hell. Wendy didn't laugh – she felt pity for him. Then he nearly fell over when he was pulling out his receipt and she did crack a smile. "I am going to Hell probably anyway for all I am doing, I have to admit, that really was kind of adorably hilarious." she thought to herself. "I see you are in here having fun?" Mini-me pulled himself into his car with a deadpan seriousness. He was either a comic genius with physical humor or Wendy was over-tired, hungry and stressed and was finding him adorable anyway. "Sorry Sir, I was just thinking about how much fun playing with your dick will be." Wendy lied but reached over and started rubbing his dick between his jeans. "You were expecting a midget-sized pecker?" Mini-me asked. Truth be told –Wendy hadn't known what to expect but shook her head that she hadn't. "It is very nice, I'll suck it a little without the condom if you promise not to tell on me when we get to the motel or cum before we get there?" she sounded like a naughty high schooler offering her date second base. She didn't wait for him to accept – she just went down on him in the car while he drove - unzipping his jeans. She had seen uncircumsized pricks before but his was shaped almost like Roscoes dog cock. A shuddering thought about how close they were in appearance ran through her mind for a brief instant and then she focused solely on pleasing him with her mouth. "Okay- Okay you are a good little cock-sucker, but if you want me to hold out, you have to stop" Mini-me admitted. Wendy rose up in her seat just in time to pass Rahjid's office. He mouthed the words "You better have my money." as they drove past. Wendy smiled as she got out of the car and saw Jamie embracing a man's form silhouetted by the moon and the light from inside the cabin. Her maternal instincts told her to freak out and find out who it was but she quickly got them under control and recognized this was their mission out here. "Oh yeah, she does look good" Mini-me was standing at Wendy's waist level, she had barely even noticed him next to her. They watched as Jamie giggled a little tee-hee, and then after saying goodbye to the man walked over to Wendy. "Hi, he wants to fuck us both," Wendy started to explain. Jamie didn't hesitate "Sure, fifty each?" she asked as if this was the least big deal in the world to her. "Yeah" Mini-me said cool as a cucumber. "Okay, excuse me for one second, let me go turn in my money" Jamie fished around under her skirt and pulled out a used condom full of creamy milk. She put it in her mouth and let the reservoir hang out –and sauntered over to where Rahjid was. Wendy could hear Rahjid telling her she took too long between tricks and Jamie respectfully explained –with the condom still in her mouth she was trying to give them their money's worth. Mini-Me didn't even ask about the strange debacle he handed Wendy a hundred dollars in twenties and led her by the hand into their cabin. "Okay 5B, I've been here before" he sniffed the air with a sour look on his face. "It smells like shit, I am sorry Sir." Wendy apologized. "Try standing in a crowded elevator when you are my height" he laughed and Wendy imagined all those assholes directed right at him in a cramped little space – she giggled a little. Jamie zestfully sprang into the room, "I thought you'd both be naked, sorry I took so long. Did he already pay?" she sounded completely at-ease and was already removing her top. There were two of Rahjid's rubber bands around Jamie's boobs causing them to look even more swollen than normal and slightly pinkish purple. They stood up plump and ripe like two cantaloupes on her chest. "Oh my Purple Poppers? I guess it is the only way I will learn my lesson." Jamie explained when she saw her mom's surprised look – the tone of her voice perky and without a trace of annoyance. Wendy removed her shirt at the same time and added "Yeah he made me do only one band, why do you have more than me?" "I guess because I have," Jamie started to say had more opportunities to get in trouble because she turned in more condoms already but she diplomatically finished her admission with "been more naughty". Wendy's connection with her daughter being so tight – made more so by their shared captivity and bondage the past two weeks was such that she knew her daughter was being polite and read between the lines - Wendy only smiled and accepted the response. "Ladies, I am SO down with the funky shit! You two are some Springertastic bitches," Mini-me was smiling from ear-to-ear as he watched the two girls undress before him while he fingered his own pants. Jamie was the first to be completely nude, removing her high heeled shoes last. Her brother had insisted she always take those off last so that on-lookers could watch her tits bounce and her ass jiggle while they waited for her to disrobe. Wendy remembered the lesson as well and while she hadn't consciously made the choice –had simply developed a pattern over the last two weeks of following the same instructions. "Would you like us to undress you Sir?" Jamie's sprightly pluck turned on Mini-me even though he pretended to be unimpressed. He savored her enthusiasm and vulnerability – and didn't want to spoil it with too much encouragement. He thought a gorgeous 'bitch' like her would be used to being put on a pedestal so his reply was a curt "You want to play dress up the dolly with me? How about you two skanks bend over that bed and spread those asses of yours so I can have a look?" Wendy and Jamie obediently turned and knelt at the bed so that they were laying belly on the mattress and holding their ass cheeks apart without complaint. Mini-me was not used to whores who weren't either tweaking on drugs or who didn't give him some sass back. "What the fuck is up your asses?" "That is my passport Sir, and my daughter's license." Wendy admitted as if in a personal confession for one of her affirmations. "Well take that shit out, whatever it is..." Mini-me actually liked the sight of the glittering flower-like knobs presented where their assholes should be –but it was part of his gruff persona that he was committed to playing. "We aren't permitted to take them out, and for fifty you can't fuck us in the ass Sir, but for 100 dollars each you can take them out and do anything you want to with us." Wendy's voice was a dreamy promise of eroticism- a performance marred only by a little niggling self-doubt that seemed to be following her. "Anything I want, huh?" the midget sounded skeptical. "Well, you still have to use a condom," Wendy explained – while blowing a little of her hair out of her face as she lay flat on the scratchy and mildewed bedspread in the low-light of the cheap motel. "Do you think we will be punished if we only turn in one condom? There are two of us, who will carry it in their mouth?" Jamie asked her mother with the kind of concern normally reserved for an overdue book that is a day late. "You can carry it out, I've only got one band around my boobies. If he is going to punish someone it should be me." Wendy said consoling her daughter and wondering if deep-down inside a part of her wanted at least as much punishment as her daughter had up to this point. She was already hating to admit that she was disappointed she hadn't kept up with her daughter's earnings. "That is so thoughtful but I absolutely couldn't," Jamie offered her mom but was cut off by the feel of cash being thrown on her back. "It's worth it if you two little cunts will shut up, so take them out." Mini-me had just added another hundred to the family's earnings. Wendy wiggled her butt along with Jamie –teasing him with the raw sexuality of the situation and said "I am sorry Sir, we aren't allowed to remove them, would you be so kind as to remove them for us?" "Lazy whores!" even Mini-me was doubting his performance as the stodgy angry dwarf when he realized his tone sounded excited to oblige the ladies. He jerked them both out like drains on a bath-tub and a satisfying 'pop' sound. "Would you be so kind as to put my passport in my daughter's mouth so she can clean it, and hers in mine Sir?" Wendy had her hands behind her back after removing the extra money he just paid. "Wow, a fucking freak fortress, you are two filthy sluts." Mini-me would have had an answer to his observation if he hadn't stuck the plugs into their open mouths. "So anything I wanted, is that correct?" "Mrmrmfff" Wendy and Jamie nodded –their mouths full of stainless steel butt-plug. Their muscles were taut but having been plucked and fucked all day long they were ready for this little man to fuck them for all he was worth. Jamie hadn't thought about the size of his dick but Wendy pictured karma blessing him with an oversized cock so she was ready to be surprised by its girth slamming into her ass. She wasn't ready for the sound of water hitting her back and pooling on her spine and down her ass crack. Her daughter giggled through the metal gag and the two couldn't stop themselves from looking over their shoulder to see whatever water gun he had been spraying them with. He was holding his cock and raining a yellow stream of piss on their butts as if writing his name from top to bottom – jetting and coating them. He had a 'bad-boy' look of defiance on his face – which sat on a head that should have been on a man six foot tall but was on one a little over half that size. He said nothing until his final squirts of piss – while the girls dutifully held their asses open as they had from the very start – waiting for whatever happened next. "This is the part where you call me a sick fuck and freak out?" Mini-me stood with his cock in his hand surprised neither girl seemed particularly disturbed. They had pissed in front of people, drank a little of each other's piss, but never been pissed on. Wendy only mumbled submissively into her gag. "For Christ's sake," Mini-me removed the plugs from their mouth "Say something." "That was unexpected," Wendy had a bemused expression on her face as she looked at her daughter who seemed even more amused. "We did say ANYthing, but I guess I thought you knew we meant fuck us in any hole." Piss was dripping off her ass onto the carpet while she remained in position. "Have you ever been pissed on before?" Mini-me asked with a new-found respect for the girls. "No, I can honestly say this is a new one for even us," Wendy looked at her daughter who was almost in giggles. "So now what? Do you fuck us with wet asses or should we dry off?" Jamie sounded cheeky and up for more of whatever was going to happen next. "I don't give a fuck what you do, I just wanted to piss on your brown spots," Mini-me was already zipped up. He had obsessed about peeing on prostitutes but usually he had to go right after he completed the act and this was the first time he ever thought about what came next besides leaving rapidly. "Please Sir? Cum in a condom for us? We'll suck your dick!!" Wendy got off the bed to beg. "You can fuck our asses, PLEASE?" Jamie joined her mom begging – they had become adept at sounding quite pathetic in how they begged with much practice. They were both acutely aware that without a condom they would both be punished by Rahjid. "You whores are insane," Mini-me's orgasms came in his mind when he completed an act of humiliation and dominance over a woman by pissing on them. The fact they seemed to accept it had diminished his fun – but only slightly. He had no more use for either of them. "At least put our buttplugs back in Sir? We'll be punished for that too!!" Wendy called out at the screen-door to her motel room as it bounced against the frame when he released it. "Your problem, not mine" he was saying as he walked into the night air. "Well fuck, should we just walk out like this, since we are going to get punished big time?" Wendy asked her partner in crime with a trace of a smile. "Hey at least we got two hundred more dollars than we had, and he was fast. If the punishment takes as long as it would have taken for him to fuck us, it will be a wash." Jamie said optimistically looking on the bright side. "You Ho's let that little man piss in you asses?" Ronnie stepped into their room crowing with delight, followed by the other two whores that worked for Rahjid. "Yes Ma'am, that was kind of unexpected." Wendy answered without moving to cover her nakedness. "You probably thought I wouldn't fuck a midget, didn't you?" Maya parted her lips like Marylin Monroe giggling at Tony Curtis on the silver screen. "I just didn't want that twisted little man to piss all over my Cervin Paris Rive Gauche Silk Stockings" "Girl, you aint no Gucci, you know that shit aint real" Doris's Puerto Rican accent was thicker than normal as she called out her friend on her knock-off stockings. "A lot of things on me aren't real, it doesn't mean that men don't find them absolutely delectable" Maya pouted and pushed up her sizable bust between her hands for emphasis. She exuded a sensuality that seemed to transcend mere sexuality and worked on a whole other level. The other two whores laughed and Ronnie told them "Well you better dry your asses off over yonder on that cum-rag" pointing to a hand-towel that Wendy had dried her face off on earlier. "You two bitches got so much to learn, did he tell you he was going to piss on your backs cha-chas?" Doris asked as the two girls obediently shared a towel to wipe themselves clean. "No, actually that was a big surprise, I will definitely not say 'anything you want' again" Wendy admitted with a rookie grin. "You can say 'anything you want', I tell them that to get them in the hotel, but once inside, then no you can't touch me here, there, and kiss me? Boyfriend please, that's a no-no." Doris touched her breasts, tits and made a kissy face like Jamie's "duck-lips". "So do they pay you though?" Wendy remained standing without dressing. "Of course I get the money up front Chica, what you think? I just tell them listen Poppy, all you have to do is lay back and relax and let Mommy do all the work and give you the ride, baby." Doris's confidence in her technique was absolute. Wendy had to wonder if Hispanic men were comfortable with a phrase like 'fucking mommy'. She could picture Bill getting turned off thinking about HIS own mother – especially if he was talked down to like he was a little child. "Don't listen to that little whore, she get shut down more times than a white boy on an all black basketball team," Ronnie countered Doris's confidence with a little good-natured ribbing. "You find what work for you on how to get them back to the room, what you need to do is learn to ask them for a loan." Jamie and Wendy were being schooled by the more experienced street whores and they had their complete attention. "You know if they po-po they don't even have to tell you if you ask them. You want them to touch you as soon as you get in the car or get alone. Flop out a titty or spread your legs and make them get a little feel. That still not enough – He say how much it cost and you say 'baby I will fuck you for free'" Ronnie smiled revealing two missing front teeth on what might have been at one time a brilliant pearly smile. Her face in the darkness as two-toned between dark ebony and carmel latte vanilla as Rahjid's niece's ass had been as the light danced across it revealing exotic hues and shades on their skin. "You say but honey, I just need a little loan right now, you come back tomorrow and I'll have that money right now for ya" Ronnie's face while she said the words read 'Don't you come around here tomorrow looking for that money'. "Thank you, that is very good advice!" Wendy said enthusiastically about the new loophole. She had in the back of her mind wondered if she might end up in jail but that seemed like one of the occupational risks of working the street that didn't really ever seem to stop it so she hadn't obsessed over the possibility. Jamie elbowed her mom quietly and whispered "Ma'am?" pointing out her mom would be in trouble for not addressing her 'better' as Ma'am. She was disappointed in her mom since she had almost never heard her make that mistake in a week. Maya lit a cigarette and held it like Charlize Theron at her sexiest in a film, while the other two girls spread out awkwardly in the semi-lit room looking with disdain at the spartan accommodations. They had been able to personalize their rooms in the time they've been working here, whereas this one was possibly the lowest quality room Rahjid had to offer. "No, Ronnie asked me not to call her that, it is okay." Wendy admitted but then added hastily "You can tell your father if I don't, and let him decide if that is an infraction." That seemed to satisfy Jamie but only made Doris and Wendy giggle. "What is it with you two masochists, you seem to like punishment, is that your thing?" Maya rested one of her shiny spiked heels on a night stand with the provocative confidence of a dominatrix "You want to lick my boots?" "No Ma'am, we are here to work and be good whores, it's just Rahjid's rules," Wendy looked down at the ground – wondering if a part of her was more than willing to lick those boots if only someone with authority over her had given the order. She didn't want to do it – but a part of her would have been fine with it if Chris or Bill had ordered it. "Rahjid's rules? He is a little pervert and a third-class pimp who is ruled by his wife. He diddles himself behind that counter all night because now that he runs whores it combines his favorite things – sex, money and power." Maya took a drag from her cigarette then exhaled with a dramatic flair. "You two fresh-meats are the only ones who follow his rules," Maya declared unrepetently. "Mmm-hhmmm, baby I got six kids at home, I can't make it on the cut he gives us!" Doris defiantly moved her neck back and forth like she was on the Maury Povich show. "Aint a stretch mark on me though" She ran her hand across her exposed midriff for emphasis. "Yeah, but there are a couple fat rolls on ya." Ronnie smiled revealing her missing teeth at the pudgier Doris. "Oh, I would knock your teeth out, but I see the crack already did that" Doris's come-back had an edge on it. "Okay Ladies, take your cat-fight to the street, leave me alone with the new meat - we need to have some girl talk." Maya instructed and just like that – the other two whores left the room trading catty barbs all the way to the sidewalk. "You two little cunts are cutting into my earning time, but it's Tuesday night and I am feeling generous, but you two are going to owe me!" Maya with a gracious wave of her hand offered them a seat so she could impart some wisdom into them. "Should we really sit on chairs considering the trouble we are already in, Mom?" Jamie asked with a confused expression. "Well technically, they didn't say we couldn't in Rahjid's rules," Wendy offered a counter-point sitting on the bed. "Yah but, at home..." Jamie was about to explain that at home when naked the standing rule was no butt-sweat or snail trails on the furniture but Maya cut her off. "Yah-Butt should be your name, you look like you use that phrase all the time," Maya said teasingly while gesturing to Jamie's perfectly chiseled ass and added, "and you do have a Yah-ba-dabba doo butt." offering a compliment to her. "Mom, let's see you stand up and turn around." Maya's confident words sounded like an order and Wendy complied by standing and turning for Maya to have a look at her ass. "Yah, she definitely got that junk in her trunk from her momma. Tell you what, since you two seem more comfortable on the floor, go ahead and kneel at my feet." Maya sounded magnanimous as if she were a gracious Queen offering them a fine wine in her private chambers. Wendy and Jamie seemed reluctant but got down on their knees. "Hands behind backs, ladies. I don't want you to be up to any mischief, go ahead and get your noses right above my boots, so you can lick if I tell you to, that is it." Maya was half-having fun with their submissive nature but she wasn't too surprised when the girls got smartly into position as instructed. "I used to know a woman on the bayou of Louisiana, just off the West Pearl River who had been born and raised in a brothel herself. She came from a generation of whores who were born to it, and she had seven gorgeous daughters, all mixed-race mullatos. There is something especially beautiful and exotic about girls born of mixed-race, and she raised them all to be submissive, and wait on her husband hand and foot. Have you been training your daughter to be submissive all her life too?" Maya asked the question while evoking images of an idyllic wooden cabin in the swamps under misty weeping willows and the smells of the brackish water with seven naked teenage girls serving their father in the hot Louisiana swamplands. "Actually this is new for us, we both started about two weeks ago," Wendy said. She had been considering whether to flick her tongue out and lick those shiny boots or not. "You two definitely have the heart, and I don't doubt you are blood-related. That is going to be a big draw, mother-daughter shows, but the finer points to being demure and sexual, you two seem to be flying blind. The kind of grace Mother Johnson and her seven daughters had been instilled with from birth that glides from them in every movement and word." "You can teach us that, Ma'am?" Jamie asked skeptically but with an enthusiastic 'because I would love to learn that' implied. "Are you two sluts licking my boots, or do I need to grind my heel into your nipples first to get you to start?" Maya's response was commanding but like it was wrapped in a sexy velvet. They started to lick the top of her boot without hesitation and she let out a wicked giggle in response while taking a drag from her cigarette. "Oh we are going to be the best of friends, I think." Maya fluttered her eyelashes and admired the two naked bodies on the floor kneeling in front of her. "Did you like it when Mini-me pissed on you?" "I don't really know what to think about it, Ma'am, I didn't mind it." "Let's try calling me Masteress, I like that." Maya created a hybrid of Mistress and Master as a new word. "Yes Masteress," Wendy replied. "Mom, she isn't a key-holder, we are already going to get so punished!" Jamie pointed out that her mother had broken another rule. "Masteress is a term of respect, you respect me don't you girly?" Maya sounded cruel but vivacious in the most alluring way possible. There was so much honey laced around the menace in her voice that it was hypnotic. She had most certainly been a pro-domme at one point in her career. "Yes Masteress, Can I ask that you at least put our butt plugs back in? So we can say we tried to have them put back up our asses?" Jamie pleaded like someone intent on trying to do the right thing. "My aren't you a dirty-talker, for such a wholesome girl next door?" Maya strode around behind the two girls- taking her boots away mid-lick and scrunching her nose at Jamie. She stuck the heel of her boot at the entrance of Jamie's asshole and said, "You would like me to foot-fuck your asshole with the shoe you just cleaned, wouldn't you girly?" "What I want is irrelevant, Masteress, we are owned whores and our pleasure doesn't matter. We are supposed to amuse our betters and earn money for our owners." Jamie spoke a familiar and somewhat comforting line from her affirmations. "But yet, you aren't." Maya withdrew the shoe from the tip of Jamie's asshole and walked back to the front of the girls. "Yes Ma'am, but you said you would teach us to be better whores, so I thought we could earn more if we listened to you?" Jamie said hopefully. "Yes, yes, but you forgot to say Masteress, and that isn't what I meant at all. I meant you two are novices out there on the streets walking around opening your legs and taking money, but with absolutely no style, no confidence. You are walking life-support for three holes and two boobs." There was silence from the girls as that seemed to be what Chris and Bill had been training them to be and they were processing what had just been said. "Get your nipples all the way on the ground, slut!" Maya broke the silence and ordered Jamie to lean forward while she placed her heel directly on Jamie's swollen nipple and pushed down hard. Jamie winced but to her credit didn't scream out – even when some milk discharged from her tits and slid across the floor. "Ooh, you are lactating? How exquisitely nasty. You take pain well, you accept your punishments for your shortcomings well, but what is missing?" "An apology for failing to address you as Masteress?" Jamie offered sweetly. "Oh dear girl, thank you for that. I won't crush your other nipple," Maya spared the girl further punishment for her offense. "You are a rule-follower and that is cute, but cute only gets you so far." Maya took a pink ribbon and tied it into Jamie's long blonde hair –putting it into a pony tail. "You should use that Taylor Swift thing you have going on while you can, dearie." "Thank you Masteress" Jamie was waiting on her knees with her left tit still throbbing from the pain of Maya's heel. The boot that caused her so much just inches out of her reach –wondering if she should move forward to lick it or whether she should remain in her place. "You don't have Taylor's star quality though, I want you two to go out there tonight on a mission to fuck all the tricks on MLK, but I want you to do it feeling like stars." "My husband just spent two weeks training us not to put ourselves on pedestals and be prideful," Wendy countered. "Oh I am sorry, did I ask for a slut's opinion?" Maya put her hands on her hips in a way that only reinforced her domineering body language. "No Masteress, you did not." Wendy admitted flatly. "You've had this stink cloud following you since I first saw you of self-pity, almost self-loathing, that rolls off you. It seems like you hate your boobs, hate your face, hate your body." Maya observed. It was making Wendy think hard about how she might be coming across. She admitted to herself that she was feeling ugly and inadequate. "Yes Ma'am, I think part of the reason we ended up in training was our vanity and pride, and my body is being used to torment and humiliate me." "So for someone who secretly enjoys it, why do you look like you hate it so much?" Maya asked point blank. "I don't enjoy it, Ma'am" Wendy answered without hesitation. "If I put a finger in your slit, would it be wet?" Maya fired back while taking a slow, sexy drag from her cigarette. "Yes Ma'am But..." Wendy stopped herself. "Did you say Ma'am because you secretly want me to crush your nipple, so you can be even-steven with the little owie I gave your daughter?" "No Masteress, I am new to that title and I just made a foolish mistake, I submit to your punishment for my misbehavior though." Wendy admitted with the same acceptance of her flaws that she would give to Bill or Chris. "Yet, I think if I denied you punishment, it would frustrate and titillate you more – so that is what I will do." Masteress Maya giggled a tee-hee at Wendy. Wendy didn't want to think too hard about the observation because it rang with a little truth. "I am going to teach you two sluts to smoke, sit, walk, talk, wear the sexiest god-damn pantyhose you've ever worn and own being submissive. I am not going to teach you to be overbearing like me, but I am going to arm you with the inner-strength and calm so that you can make dicks hard just by being. Do you understand me?" Maya lectured with passion. At first Wendy and Jamie did not understand but in fifteen more minutes of instruction it had begun to dawn on them how wise Maya was. "You could read every issue of Cosmo for twenty years and not learn what I know about being a woman, honey." she laughed when she saw the dawning realization stretch across Wendy and Jamie's face. The overall philosophy she gave the girls was one that they should submit to and do so selflessly, but at the same time be a source of soft-strength and fortitude that transcended their submission. There was more to obedience then just doing what they were told – there was an intangible peace to following that they were to embrace. That didn't mean to tune out and be a robot. Maya had gone over the encounter with Mini-me and told them what they did right and what they did wrong in a constructive and helpful way. "You could have smiled at him and asked permission to lick that piss right off your daughter's ass cheeks. If he had wanted to see it anyway, you are going to have to do it, so give it to him. The balance is be a woman not a nympho about it- make it so there is a mystery to you, did you offer because you are giving and desire to see him happy or because you really like the taste of midget piss and the salt from your daughter's ass?" It had only been fifteen minutes but in that time they felt that they had received a week's worth of instruction – things they would ponder for a long time to come and tricks and tips that they would never have thought of on their own. Maya also showed them how to put it on and take it off in a way that will make men's dick hard – but most importantly how to really 'wear' it. She made them each smoke a cigarette and hold it like a sexy movie siren in the glamour days. "Don't smoke to be disgusting, smoke to be erotic and enigmatic," she advised. The girls were hungry for this knowledge and both of them were getting different messages from Maya's words but both were feeling their spirits lifted. They weren't 'proud whores' but they were something approaching 'sexy whores' and they were both completely engrossed in every word that was being shared with them. There was a knock on the screen door, "Come on, you three are not making the money, and Rahjid did not give the break." "Fuck off Rahjid, or I'll put a boot up your Bengali asshole." Maya sounded distinctly unladylike for the first time. "You do not want me to do the pimp smack," Rahjid's threat sounded very hollow. "These two whores have one more blowjob to do, and then they can get back to work." Maya said without looking at the door to see if Rahjid's beady eyes were staring back at her in the darkness outside the cabin. He walked away mumbling to himself acquiescing to his biggest earner's wishes. "One more blowjob, Masteress?" Wendy asked. She was thrilled to do it because gone now were the dark thoughts of self-doubt and in their place was a sexy-mother-slave who knew she would have to be obedient and accepted it with a new reserve of patience and quiet strength. She did not even wonder how long it would last before she might need another affirmation of this type – she was brimming with the desire to submit. "You can start with my big cock," Masteress Maya's grey-blue eye's smiled at the girls as she reached into the lacy panties she was wearing and retrieved a 10 inch-fully shaved dick. "I am the whore with a little something extra," She saw the look of surprise on their face and savored it. "I know you two are going to love my dick and balls, aren't you girls?" "Yes Masteress" their enthusiastic reply, followed by their wet and hungry mouths to deliver a loving tag-team-mother-daughter blowjob that should have been recorded on tape – it was epic in a way that memorable blowjobs can be. When Maya's cock finally gushed a stream of cum, the two of them let a little of the cum drip down their chins and kissed each other in front of Maya without hesitation and then spit a little into condoms they could take to Rahjid. "Thank you Masteress" "Oh no, thank you girls, you give excellent head, now get out there and be the best little prostitutes that money can buy." Maya teased "I hope I didn't use you all up". "Just when you think our lemons can't squeeze any more juice, we'll make a fresh batch." Wendy and Jamie left the room naked and holding their buttplugs with condoms in their mouth – to pay Rahjid and accept their punishment. As the girls walked out refreshed, energized and with a new perspective Maya giggled to herself "I hope they don't realize I just made all that up." As she watched them step naked through the motel courtyard to Rahjid's pay window. ------- Chapter 23: Chris's Journal - Booters: Delightfuly skanky, yet unrefined Note to reader: This is Wendy's journal from Wednesday approximately 4pm before her husband and son arrive to inform her of their meeting with Mr. Bitterman. In order to increase readability, some of the dialogue exchanged was altered to appear in a 'narrative' story format. CASH EARNINGS WEDNESDAY WENDY: $40 JAMIE: $0 Any journal that begins with "I was sucking my second dick of the day," is probably going to seem a little strange. The strangest part to me was that it seemed almost routine to me. I had been walking up and down the street in broad daylight to honks and whistles and looky-loos who saw me wave back at them and had begun to completely accept this absurd situation. I guess I half expected someone to get out of their car and walk up to me wagging their finger and say "Wendy Taylor, you should not be out here. You don't belong out here. You march yourself back to your old life and go away from this nasty place". Instead, the reality of the situation was that I was dressed like a whore and acting like one on Martin Luther King Blvd. where whores walk the streets and I just seemed like someone who belonged here. I had melded into the background of this seedy and disgusting side of town. The first dick I had sucked had belonged to the black man who bought that disgusting fish curry to feed to his dog. His dog shit on the carpet in our dingy cabana while I finished him off and I have to say I had barely noticed the smell. He offered no apology and didn't bother to clean up after his dog – he just paid and went on his way. It is my life's work to clean up other people's (or dogs' in this case) shit, isn't it? I suppose though I am up to my neck in this because of my own personal shit? I am the one who put Bill and Chris through the ringer and because of it Jamie is home doing lord knows what in the backyard and she'll be here shortly to work the streets with her whore of a mother. The second dick I just finished sucking was much harder to come by. I had actually got into a car this afternoon and the guy looked at me and became nervous and changed his mind. I should have been the one nervous – Anything could have happened to me in the car, what did this guy think I was going to do to him? Suck his dick off? Despite my attempt to be calming and assure him that it was okay, he became unreasonable and I gave up trying to build up his confidence – there is only so much begging a whore can do, right? Lol. (There I go putting Lol in my journal like a teenager, what is next? Emoticons perhaps?) He left me several miles from the motel and on my way back a little Taiwanese man pulled his truck over and let me in. He haggled with me about the twenty dollars and I told him I was allowed to jerk him off for ten but he wanted a blowjob. He wanted to do it without a condom and I told him I would but I was expected to use one. "Why you no suck dick without the condom, you like taste of latex?" he asked. I wanted to say that I didn't like the taste of his dirty little cum-filled egg roll between his legs either, but I just submissively smiled and said "I love the taste of cum, but I am not allowed to have it, Sir..." "Who will know if you break rule? I no tell anybody." He motioned to the dirty alley-way he had pulled into that no one was watching. "I have to bring the cum filled condom back when I turn in the money," I winked at him. A normal person might have thought that was weird and asked why I had to do that but he just pragmatically haggled "Okay fifteen dollar with condom on, or twenty dollar and you can spit my cum in condom – do what you want with it, final offer!" He was obviously not a normal person. Neither was I for that matter, I had gone from being a high powered senior vice president to sucking old men's dicks in alley ways for twenty dollars. I agreed to his terms and sucked him raw without a condom. He did taste exactly like soy sauce and lo-mein with a tiny dollop of sweat on his dirty little dick. He came in about two minutes of furious pumping up and down in the passenger seat of his truck. I smiled and spit the cum into an open condom and thanked him. He said nothing as he hurried me out of his truck and drove off. I was fortunate that Martin Luther King Blvd is such a straight shot – because I might have become lost if there had been a lot of side streets. As it stood after walking past a few broken down apartment buildings and a Church's fried chicken I was back at the motel. This would not seem that unusual except I had a full condom in my mouth to return to Rahjid so that poor Devi Das could eat this afternoon. "Hey dare," Tiontay and his friends pulled up on me right before I made it to Rahjid's office. The sun was still high in the sky and it was broad daylight but there were very few people actually walking up and down the sidewalk. Homeless bums, other hookers and the occasional homeless hooker – I should not have been surprised that my friends from this morning were allowed to play so close to the highway. I nodded and mumbled hello to them. It amazes me how easily they seemed to accept my presence in their world – but then why would they question it? I am just another whore to them. "What you got in you mouth, bubba gum?" Dante's question came with the implication that I should share a piece with him. I nodded no and pointed that I needed to keep walking towards the office. "She so nasty, out hurr walken the street on dayshiff, and now she aint even going to share her bubba gum with us?" Nasty was particularly disappointed. "It's not bubb-o gum" I was surprisingly coherent as I mumbled to keep the cum-filled condom from spilling – it is all that practice talking with a gag in my mouth. "She gots money in her hand!" Tiontay noticed that I was clutching the folded up twenty dollar bill from my last trick. The outfit I had on didn't have any pockets and I wasn't carrying a purse so there wasn't too many places I could carry anything with me. I knew it was a risk to have the money in my hand but I hadn't expected to turn the trick so far away from the motel. He started to grab at my money but I shooed him off "Preez, that not mry monay" I stumbled over the words. "Boy, that's Rahjid money, he her pimp." Nasty was a child of the street and she knew the reality of what girls did out here for money well enough. I nodded in agreement and started walking towards the office while the boy's harassed and jumped around me demanding my 'bubba gum'. They were just teasing and being playful – they weren't hurting me or anything. I just playfully smiled and wondered if they'd really want it if they knew it was an old man's spent condom. I had felt far more vulnerable and distressed this morning when they literally had me pinned against the wall like a frog on the dissecting table. I was still in no position to command authority around them, but I didn't feel I needed to be. I was okay with the status quo of how things were working – and I have to admit I think the routine the guys came up with for discipline was starting to have an effect on my psyche where I was accepting this was just my lot in life now. Rahjid shouted from his ever-present position in the narrow window of his office for the boys to leave me alone. They ignored him at first but eventually ran off to get into some other mischief. I smiled at Rahjid and opened my mouth to display the condom and slid the twenty under the glass window. "Good, but you are too slow. You diddle-daddle around too much! You did not touch the condom with fingers after the cum was in it?" I lied (slightly) by nodding in agreement –Tattle tale Jamie wasn't here and I wanted his poor niece to eat something. Technically, I could have been nodding to his instruction that I needed to get faster turning around these tricks. "You did good, thank you berry, berry much" Rahjid bobbled his head obviously pleased with what I had just turned in and I smiled back at him. I knew that as sticky and disgusting as my life had become inside that little apartment was a girl who was probably having it worse than me and it was all her choice – but then this was my choice to do too wasn't it? I did not have time to ponder that much more deeply than the hundreds of other times the thought had presented itself to me the past few weeks. I saw Bill's truck pull into parking lot behind me – and out popped Bill, Chris, and Jamie. I smirked and was about to deliver a "How come she gets to ride up front when I am not with you?" snarky joke when I noticed the dour look on everyone's faces. "Okay what happened?" I just knew something was wrong. Bill told me that we were losing the house and there was nothing we could do. He had met with Mr. Bitterman who just happened to be Cathy Griffin's Grandfather. Oh Boy! And dumb old me sat in a coffee shop and spilled the beans to him about everything – and then some! I kind of thought he was pressing me for details about Cathy's involvement when I told him the story of how all this came to be- but at the time I thought he was just actively listening and being a considerate friend. I wonder what is going on over at their house now? I can't really feel bad if Cathy gets what karma should have delivered to her a long time ago. From what Bill told me about it – Cathy was in deep doo-doo like us and was going to be shipped off to some special school! I sure did cause some fireworks with my bad decisions – first to try to get the guys to improve I unintentionally cuckolded and enslaved them and then I wrecked our finances by losing my job and now it sounds like I've rubbed off on Mr. Bitterman's family. "So as you can see, I can't rightly keep whoring you out and disciplining you two anymore?" Bill closed his explanation with more of a question than a statement. I was seeing the 'old Bill' the indecisive one who lacked confidence – the one who spent all his time escaping reality into internet games, Facebook and forum discussions. I was shocked – and strangely disappointed. I can't speak to all the reasons for each emotion but a sudden realization that it could not end like this – with all us reverting back to our old behaviors and losing the house after having come so far. Chris was absent mindedly scratching his ass, Jamie seemed sad but in agreement with her father –this was over. "What is the plan then?" I finally spoke after taking in their explanation of the bombshell dropped on them by Mr. Bitterman. "Plan? There is no plan. We lose the house Friday and I don't know what happens next." Bill looked at me as if I should have obviously realized that. "The story doesn't end because we lose the house. There has to be a Saturday, so what are we going to do sir? Wait until Saturday Morning and figure it out then?" I have to admit I've called homeless bums Sir before but at that moment the first time I had really and truly regretted having to use that title was on my husband. He just wasn't earning the respect I wanted to give him. "Well, I guess you know, like we will stay here probably? Until we can figure it out." Bill hemmed and hawed with his answer – he couldn't look me in the eyes. "What is there to figure out? We need money, a place to live, let's just do whatever it takes and get those things?" I could not believe Bill was having a hard time with this. It was so simple to me. I had grown in the habit of saying Sir or Ma'am to avoid becoming familiar with my 'betters' since this discipline had begun – that it surprised me how easy it was to leave it off in this particular conversation. "I spent all day on my resume but we won't have internet soon, so how will anyone email me?" Bill kicked the ground with his hands in his pocket. "Dad, your phone does internet email, or did you not know that?" Chris sounded disappointed in his father. "Yeah, I know that, but I need to use a full size keyboard, okay?" Bill snapped at his son. They had been such a team- always working together that this was the first snippy little exchange I had seen between them in a long time. I interrupted their catty exchange, "Bill Taylor, I hope you don't plan on using this as an excuse to get out of going to the internet user's forum this weekend?" I put my hands on my hips and summoned as much of 'Old Wendy' as I had left to put just enough emphasis on my words to get their attention. "What?" Bill asked incredulously. The others looked at me as if I had just lost my mind. "You think I came this far, sucked this many dicks?" for some reason I pointed at Rahjid's office behind me "to have you tell me that everything is over just because you say it is?" Chris was half-smiling but Bill and Jamie were completely confused. "I am going to get your football stuff back right now, and you are going to get it together and take us to that internet user's forum, do you understand Bill Taylor?" I demanded but I didn't wait until he acknowledged me. I marched up to Rahjid's window and said "My husband wants his football stuff back, what do I have to do to get it?" Rahjid proceeded to begin babbling off numbers about damages, interest, back rents and past due notices. "I will whore until Friday – both day and night shift, you get all the profits off my ass, but we want it back right now, deal?" Rahjid was not used to the feisty side of me – this was coming at him like a shock that I was as fired up as I was and that I was not backing down or willing to haggle. He tried several other deals that were less favorable before finally agreeing to my terms. I walked back to where the three of my family members were standing and took Bill by the hand over to a storage room behind Rahjid's office where he was now standing. He unlocked the door and inside were a collection of musty old boxes and cleaning supplies. Bill navigated through the mess and retrieved a single box – inside was his football trophy, a VCR tape and a dozen Hot Rod magazines. "Cool, a VCR tape, do you have a dinosaur we could use to play this on?" Chris giggled. "Do you want the rest of your things in here, Sir?" I gave Bill the courtesy of the proper title but I was feeling a little disappointed we did all this –for just one box. Bill looked at the boxes of jeans from the 1980s and old golf shirts that he had and laughed "No, this was the only thing in here that I needed - Thanks Wendy." "It's Cow-tits, Sir" I demanded with a hint of a smile. "I am glad Jamie is finally off the hook for what I did. Here is the new plan. You guys are going to go back home for the next three days and pack up whatever you want to take with you to the internet user's forum group this weekend. I am going to stay here and work for the next few days. You will come and pick me up Friday afternoon and we will go to your Father's internet user forum group meeting and have a good time, is that understood?" "Mom, I don't think you..." Chris started to say something but I held up a finger and quickly stopped him from continuing. I wasn't sure how I had managed to wrestle back control of the family so quickly but I decided to fill the awkward silence "Jamie and I don't have to listen to you anymore! However, it's going to be hard for me to do this without any motivation, so I will ask that you stop by twice a day to check on me. I was actually going to show you my punishment from last night for all the fucked up things I did and rules I broke, and hope it was sufficient." "What was it Mom?" Jamie asked sympathetically. I quickly described how Devi Das was walking a path of salvation and what the condoms had been for all along. I skipped over some of the details, in part because I didn't want to give the guys any good punishment ideas. A few weeks ago it would have made no sense but having gone through so many changes her consuming semen that could not be touched by the impure of heart seemed completely logical to all four of us. I lifted the skirt I had on in the parking lot and showed off the large needles that Rahjid had put in my ass and clit and went over the litany of things I did to deserve each one. "Not that it matters now, but I was supposed to go over my flaws from the night before. I encouraged my daughter to over-charge Buford. We took too long to finish Buford and it was my fault for tempting Jamie into violating those rules. It was entirely my oversight that we didn't fill the condoms until the very end. We took our butt plugs out on our own and didn't put them in the right way." I genuinely felt guilty as I went over the list of so-called rule violations but why should I? A normal woman would have been aghast these were the rules anyway. But, I was not normal any more was I? "So you are sure about this Bill?" I hadn't called my husband by his first name in about three weeks – it felt alien and awkward coming out of my mouth. I could tell he felt that too. "What other choice do we have?" Bill didn't answer a direct question with a yes or a no – maybe I was reading too much into the context but I could tell he was already drifting back to the comfort-zone of blaming the rest of the world for his problems and doing nothing about them. "So should I take these needles out then?" I asked and Chris and Bill, both looked at their shoes. They really didn't hurt now that they were in - unless I moved real fast. I was just putting out a feeler to see what the guys would say. "Wait, is your punishment over slut?" Jamie piped up. "Oh don't tell me you are going to be the boss of me now, Ass Face?" I gave my daughter one of those 'oh brother' exasperated looks that implies I just wasn't having any of that nonsense. "Oh no, not at all," Jamie stood on her tippy toes and smiled at me "I am just not leaving you out here to work on your own. You think I want to go back home and just sit and worry until Friday?" I could see from my daughter's enthusiastic face that she was trying to be helpful but Bill and Chris had clearly let this ordeal end for her and I didn't want her to have to further put herself through this. I was the only one who had ever deserved to have to do this in the first place. "Jamie, I know what you are trying to do and it's precious and I wouldn't have expected anything less from you," I started to explain but from the look on her face I already knew her response. I was hoping a taste of hell would have quenched her appetite to endure it with me – but it had not. "Good, then you know that I am going to insist on staying, and the name is Assface if you please, Cowtits." She smirked and I cracked a smile for the first time since hearing the crushing news about our debt and the house seizure. I looked over at Bill for his approval or a comment or anything – he simply shrugged as if he was all out of words and hope. I knew better than to ask my daughter if she was sure. The mother in me wanted to do so anyway because I was a control freak at heart but through this training and giving up authority over my own actions – I had learned a valuable lesson to be able to let my daughter make reasonable decisions without trying to second guess or talk her out of them. I just wanted to hear Bill say he had set her free and would like her to come home and enjoy a good meal or change out of those horrible clothes and peek-toe heels she was wearing– they had to be uncomfortable as all get out. Bill stood there quietly – as if he were waiting for a sign he should go. "I am sorry," well there was a start. Perhaps Bill was about to change his mind and tell us his plan. "I don't know what to tell you." and there it was – seven simple words, the seven simple words that encapsulate the last five years of Bill Taylor's life. I felt a gnawing in the pit of my stomach worse than when I had a broom shoved up my ass in an Asian tattoo parlor. "It's okay Bill, it will be fine." I heard myself saying and realized that was my seven little words that came right after his for the last five years. Then I would clean up his mess and let him go about being lazy on the couch or the internet and his self-pity. Why did I just say that? Had we gone through weeks of family transition only to revert back to the roles we had played for years? This ordeal had begun with a bang to the system and was ending in this passive aggressive whimper? "I guess we'll be back in a few hours and we'll bring you some dinner, not left-overs. I love you both, you know?" Bill's words were strained with indecision and worry. I knew he was feeling the weight of the world pressing down on him that he had finally taken the reigns of the family and the house was being yanked out from under him. "I know you feel like Charlie Brown having come so far to finally kick the ball, and Lucy just pulled it out from under you," I tried to offer a metaphor I thought would offer some consolation that I knew what he was going through but he did not want to hear it. I guess he still had that foolish pride as well. "Gah, you don't know anything. You two stay out here and suck as many dicks as you want," Bill made it sound like we loved doing this as he turned to walk back to his Truck. Chris had said nothing for the whole exchange – if he had seven little words that encapsulated his past five years it was no words at all. He blindly followed his father back to the Truck and I felt just a hint of a tear start to form in the rounds of my eye. "Get in the Truck, son. Your mom and sister want to whore it up," Bill didn't think twice about telling his son what to do – their partnership had fizzled. "No, I don't think so," Chris's voice sounded about one pitch higher than it should as if he were nervous about being defiant. "Now wait a sec, Sir" Jamie put her hands on her hip in jest "We appreciate the help, but you won't look good in a short skirt" she teased. Chris looked over his shoulder back at us and he wasn't grinning the way he did when they normally teased back and forth. "The two of them aren't out here because they want to be," Chris said of us. "Oh? Do you see any chains on them? I told them they are done, the world wins. We tried to earn enough money and we lost the house, your mom's job, your sister's reputation at school. We aren't playing the game anymore, we are losing everything. It is over." Bill shut the door to his truck as he turned back to his son, still cradling the box of football memorabilia in his arms. "What? Over? Did you say "over"? Nothing is over until we decide it is! Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor? Hell no!" Chris became excited. "Germans?" Jamie whispered to me in surprise. "Forget it, he's riffing off an old movie quote." I giggled in response realizing I was a teenager when this film came out. "And it ain't over now. 'Cause when the goin' gets tough" Chris paused for a moment while trying to think of something to say. He often used humor to deflect reality and to deal with the world around him but his dad wasn't buying it. "You have something to say Son? Don't tell me in Animal House quotes." Bill shook his head in disappointment. "I am staying," Chris said with a straight faced conviction. "What? Why?" Bill was confused and so was I. "Simple, these bitches ... look at them? They haven't been inspected, they don't seem like they are even standing up straight," Chris turned to us with the familiar sadistic look he had when he was about to do something particularly vile to us. "Oh no," Jamie was smiling but shaking her head "Not this again, you heard dad, you guys aren't the boss of us anymore." There was a light heartedness in her denial of her brother's attempt to assert authority over us, as if she saw it as a vain attempt to try to motivate us. "What? Tits out, chins up, tighten those ass cheeks!" Chris got in her face and in seconds Jamie had transformed to standing at attention with a completely serious expression. He looked at me and not to leave my daughter and son hanging I sprung to attention letting my tits bounce in time with my movement –forming up alongside my daughter in the motel parking lot. "Who owns those asses?" Chris asked out loud in broad daylight. I could hear Tiontay and his friends giggling behind me and I knew there were probably other eyes watching us from darkened motel rooms but I played along. "You do Sir?" I was the first to reply and Jamie answered basically the same thing. "That was pathetic, I don't think you really believe it." Chris snarled in response. "Check my ass, Sir." Jamie piped up with chin out, and standing at full attention. "Why? Is there a love note in there for me?" Chris asked sadistically. "No Master, when you and dad told me I didn't have to serve today and I could get dressed, I could have taken it out, but my license is still where it belongs." "And where does it belong Ass face?" Chris insisted on hearing. "Straight up my ass, Sir!" It still shocked me to hear Jamie's innocent voice deliver vulgar phrases like that and without the least hint of fear that people were listening. I could see on my son's face a look of satisfaction and pride. "What about you Cowtits, are you loaded and packing your passport?" Chris turned his gaze towards me. "Would you take my word for it if I told you, Sir?" I wasn't entirely sure we should be going back to discipline having just been given a reprieve and it probably reflected in my joking tone. "I asked you a question whore and I expect a straight answer. I know you like to deceive and manipulate – like all female kind!" Whoa where was Chris getting that from? "However, since you can't answer a simple question - get in position two, flip up your skirt and show me." There is something primal about being dominated fully. I think it's like a hormonal instruction set that is locked away in our brains that gets activated and overrides our learned behavior. I felt it when I became a teenager and dared to defy my mother – that was my hormones telling me to stand on my own two feet. I felt it when I became a mother and dedicated myself to my children – that was my hormones telling me to get up at 4am and change that dirty diaper. I felt it right now when I was being ordered to show my ass in broad day light so it could be inspected. I turned around in precise military fashion and bent at the waist in front of my son while flipping my skirt up fully in the back and held my ass cheeks apart for him. "Ah there is the diamond I picked out for you, is it the best mother's day present you ever got?" Chris's tone was dark but I knew he intended his joke to be that way. "In all honesty Master, no." I replied and since I couldn't see his face – I assumed it was stunned that I hadn't just agreed with him. "Someone stole and ran off with it today" I was looking up and saw Tiontay's face go from giggle to a guilty look while he and his friends were peeping at me from the corner of one of the motel cabanas. "I could lose it, but the tattoo you and your father bought for me, telling me precisely what I am to you, is forever. I thank you for that Master" I gripped my ass cheeks to pull my ass a little further apart than normal – satisfied that I had answered my son's barb with love and acceptance. Jamie was self-sacrificing her pride and dignity to continue to earn for the family and Chris was going to help us get through this as moral support- a coach of sorts. I was proud of them and disappointed that Bill had not warmed up to what we were doing. He must be watching from a distance and wondering if we are all crazy. He probably just thought we were stuck in the routine of discipline mode and this was our way of living in denial? He might be right. "Awww, isn't that sweet, you think that earned you some brownie points?" Chris cupped my ass with a hard slap from his palm. "More like Brown-noser points," Jamie giggled at him. "Did I tell you to get in position two?" Chris got within a hair's distance of his sister's face enraged by her joke. "No Sir?" she replied meekly like tweety bird recoiling from Sylvester invading her cage. "Then get in it, and join your slut mother!" Chris's mock-rage subsided as he delivered the second order. Jamie complied without hesitation standing exactly as I was with both ass cheeks exposed in the half-empty parking lot of a broken down motel. "You dumb whores know that I am your pimp, and that you will eat, shit, talk, walk, suck, fuck, lick, according to MY rules and that nothing has changed from yesterday - You agree to that?" Chris spoke directly to our asses as if he were Braveheart addressing his troops on a sunny Scottish glade. "Yes Master" we said in unison. "Assface, tell me why we can't leave you two out here unsupervised and with no discipline, will you please?" Chris demanded of his sister. "Because family is meant to be tight – like a butthole, Master" Jamie repeated a quote we heard Chris say a while back from a TV show he watches called Workaholics. I've never seen it but I've heard it is hilarious. "What?" Chris demanded. "Sorry Master, family is meant to be tight – like my asshole!" Jamie corrected herself using the more vulgar description. "I was expecting you to tell me because you lazy cunts would lollygag around and spend time telling each other your feel-ings" he dragged out the last word to show disdain for them, "And brag about how you fucked Roscoe in the backyard today?" I looked over at Jamie's hung face and she was turning a new shade of red from embarrassment. I look backed down at the pavement with a sudden wonder if my morning really had been harder than hers must have been. This was going to be quite an explanation - she was going to have to tell me all about this one. I knew from the Internet that women did it but I assumed it was in Germany or Japan or places where porn has to be so disgusting and bizarre for anyone to take notice. "That too, Master" Jamie cleared her throat and didn't deny what he said about her. "I just meant you stayed for the same reason Mom and I Did." Her normally chipper delivery was clouded by what sounded like shame. After all we had been through how could she care about my opinion of what she did? I knew what was in her heart. "Oh, because I love sucking on dicks?" Chris prodded her to continue her explanation with a slap to the ass cheeks that didn't even make her wobble – her balance was excellent. "No Sir," Jamie sniffed a little – was she crying? Had he hit her that hard? Was it the realization I knew she fucked a dog. "Sp-spah-spit it out Assface." Chris stuttered to mock her while delivering another rock solid hammer slap to her ass cheeks "You usually swallow, so this should be a first." He chortled to himself. "The family is having hard times, but we are pulling together as a family. I am already dressed like a hooker, I've spent a night whoring, I know the deal. I am going to suck and fuck and do my part just like mom is. You are going to discipline us and keep us from being bad and getting chatty, I appreciate that, and I thank you. That is what family should do." Jamie's tone returned to the sweety-pie-in-the-sky that always looks on the bright side that has been her nature since the first time she could utter a word. "You are wrong about that Cunts," Chris got serious and paused "Dad left the parking lot five minutes ago, he thinks we are just wasting our time." "Our we Master?" I wanted some reassurance and I hadn't spoken in this exchange. "Well, other than giving a free show of your stinkers to some kids who seem to think this is HILARIOUS," Chris stomped a few steps and drove Tiontay and his friends back behind the corner they had continued to peep and giggle from – only for them come right back in a few seconds and deliver another round of giggles. "Then no, this is not making us any money." "Well it's got your whores fired up to suck dicks, may we stand up and get to work Master?" I offered in as sweet a tone as I could. Chris smacked my butt "Yes, but don't do that." Allowing me to drop my skirt and stand up straight again. "I am sorry, do what Master?" I turned around using the same tone. "How you are talking, it's like you sounded when you used to tuck me in at night and read me a story, or kiss a boo-boo, it creeps me out." He said seriously. "Oh, but mommy is a good whore for you, does he want his little tum-tum rubs?" I played up my motherly tone. I had no idea my 'sweet voice' sounded like my nurturing mommy voice – I knew he was right instantly as I smiled and teased him while Jamie giggled. "You want me to slam those big fat nipples in the door of the cabana?" Chris's threat was obviously in jest – he could take a joke as easily as he could give one. "Actually, I would not mind, if it will knock some of this breast milk loose from my boobs. I feel like I am going to explode, Sir!" Jamie was half-kidding but I was feeling the weight of the milk sloshing around and making my tits heavier than normal too – we were overdue for our regular milkings by several hours. "You and Dad really did a number on us, by giving us hormone pills to make our boobies fill up with milk with our birth control pills." "What birth control pills? We stopped giving those to you weeks ago." Chris said dead pan and I heard a clang of metal clatter on the pavement like a heavy aluminum spatula that just dropped. "Gotcha," Chris laughed at our wide-eyed expressions that we were definitely going to be pregnant and pointed to Jamie's license lying on the ground. He laughed "Cow Tits, pick that up with your teeth, and bring it into the Cabana, I need to inspect you two whores and get you milked and ready to work night shift." As I bent over to clench my daughter's stainless steel buttplug Chris laughed "I hope our family is tighter than YOUR asshole." He smacked Jamie on the ass and drove us both into our Cabana where he insisted we strip right away. "I am surprised you got some clothes to cover your stank ass, let me guess you had to spend some of my money to buy them?" I was quickly undressing and I wanted to stop and clarify that the money was ours as a family but I decided to roll with it and put my over-thinking, over-analytic mind to the side. "No Master, since you were kind enough to leave me here last night so that I could learn my lesson," I was being facetious and he knew it "Rahjid had some old whore's clothes laying around I could wear, I suppose we could bring them back tomorrow?" Chris grabbed the skirt I had neatly folded and set on the floor and tried to rip it, at first he didn't succeed because it was a stretchy polyester flitty little party skirt that was popular in the 1980s but after his sister giggled he managed a tear down the side. She had just slid her butt plug back in and was completely naked. "It needs to show a little more skin, you don't have a problem with that do you slut?" Chris asked me seriously as I stood before him now fully undressed. No Master, thank you for adjusting my outfit, I shouldn't have indulged my need for modesty by wearing a skirt with that much material, please forgive me?" I got down on my knees – now the line between facetious and serious began to blur for me. "And no, you won't be going home to get a change of clothes," Chris glared down at me "Dad's there, and if he doesn't want to be a part of this then that's fine. Let's leave him to his misery and take care of business." "You won't tie me to the back of the building again tonight though Sir?" I don't know when to keep my damn mouth shut. I thought I should put the over-thinking, over-analyzing Wendy away – but I just had to clarify the sleeping arrangement and inadvertently put that thought in his head. "You'll both be out there with broom handles up your ass, if you don't do well tonight." Chris was digging around to find a razor to address the stubble that had started to sprout on our legs and pubic hair and had us face each other and start pulling and tugging each other's titties to milk each other. "Harder mom, like this..." Jamie was kneeling in front of me as she pulled my nipple like the spring-loaded plunger on a pinball machine to entice me to milk her a little more forcefully than I was. "Hey, that smarts, watch it hooker." I said playfully and gave her the tugs she asked for while crushing my thumbs into her nipples as hard as I could. She shut her eyes and little drips of yellowish-white milk began to emerge from the tips of her nipples. "Oh, it's not the worst thing that's been done to them, you want me to do yours like that?" Jamie asked without reservation and I nodded I did. I was only released from my discipline for a few minutes but I was still feeling strange about returning to it without Bill's involvement – like we were playing a charade. I was about to ask my daughter to tell me about Roscoe when I heard the screen door start to pop open. It seems that surprise visits are becoming the norm with us. ------- Chapter 24: Jamie's Journal - It sounds worse when I think about it than when I do it Note to reader: This is Jamie's journal from Tuesday around 12:45pm shortly after her mother and her wrote on each other. In order to increase readability, some of the dialogue exchanged was altered to appear in a 'narrative' story format. She was not where she had been. She was not where she was going... But she was on her way. --Jodi Hill CASH EARNINGS TUESDAY WENDY: $1,320 JAMIE: $1,370 I feel like I sort of turned a corner into what the most intense and truest forms of depravity and humiliation must feel like. I thought I knew when we danced nearly naked at the county fair or got sloshed with tomatoes while we were in stocks. I thought I had an inkling when my brother rented me out to his geeky friends who fumbled over my nipples but they were more afraid of me than I was of them. Tonight has been a new low in a series of lows for me. I would say I am numb to it, but that isn't true because wave after wave of fresh goose bumps and butterflies in my tummy keep assaulting me. Once I have truly been a whore for money, there is no way to not have been one. I guess it's time to live up to the tattoo I got at the county fair. They say you cannot physically die from embarrassment but those people were not living as slaves for their brother and father. The strange thing is it doesn't bother me as much as I thought it would to reach this low and that is where the depravity must be kicking in to dampen the effects. It could be the mind's basic instinct to protect me from the massive doses of humiliation I am receiving. After Chris took my mom off to enjoy a nice reward of using the bathroom without discipline for losing the race my Dad wasted no time getting me down on all fours taking me to the fence and making me piss like a male dog by raising my leg to piss on the chain link fence. Rahjid was delighted watching me pee hiking my leg like a dog – his laughter was so dirty it was almost psychotic. It wasn't a carefree laugh of someone who was amused. It was more the laugh of a deeply perverted mind. I half wondered if this was the 'Bates Motel' and he likes to dress up in his mother's clothes – that's an odd thought. At first Rahjid took issue with the idea of me squatting to shit in the weeds of his pool but Dad quickly reminded him to look around at this place and he acquiesced to my father. I was allowed to squat with my legs apart and keep my buttplug in my mouth. I at least had the mild satisfaction that the balance of power had shifted between him and my father in Dad's favor. "That is it? You don't have more to do?" Rahjid asked me of the small squishy turd I had just deposited on his pool deck. "Yes Sir, thaffs it, all I hadffs" I hate how I instinctively answer like this little positive ray of sunshine but that is how my words came out with the plug clenched between my teeth. "So what happened to 'I take Big Stinky Shits', AHAHAHA!? You barely left a rabbit pellet." Rahjid laughed enough at his own joke that it was obvious he wasn't expecting a response. My Dad reached down and yanked me by my sore tits, forcing me to my feet, "He asked you a question, why didn't you take a big stinky shit, Ass face?" "Oh Sorry Master, I thought he wuff joking" I croaked with the buttplug in my mouth muffling my words. "Position two, now!" Dad turned me over and had me spread my ass cheeks for him. You would think he had enough of looking at my poor pink, puffy hole or that I would be used to this by now but it slaps a fresh coat of paint on my humiliation each time I am ordered to 'spread em'. I think it didn't help that Rahjid was jeering and giggling at my discomfort. "Momfff and I were permiffed to shiff beffffour we leff the house, Maffer." I could almost see the spit bubbles as I talked like I had a mouth full of crackers around my plug. "You always can check by sticking one finger in there and fishing around for little turd balls, in case the little bitch is lying and holding some back." Dad plunged two (not one) fingers into my asshole without any resistance and fiddled around causing me to arch my back slightly. He slapped my ass and told me to hold still until he had finished my inspection. "What about the sides of her asshole, I see a little doo-doo brown cream around the edges of her butt" Rahjid sounded like a dandy afraid to get his hands dirty as he described my backside to my father. "The little slut and her cunt mother will clean their own juices and creams off each other, it's not a big deal, just make sure they do a good job washing you when you are done. Open your big mouth, sweet heart" Dad mocked me as he pulled his fingers out of my ass and removed the butt plug from my mouth. I kept my mouth open knowing he expected me to clean his dirty fingers. You would think I would be horrified by tasting my own cunt juice or 'ass cream' to use Rahjid's colorful term but it's a little like taking a spoonful of horrible cough medicine. If you just close your eyes and get it over with –the taste does not linger for long. It sounds worse when I think about it than when I do it. "The little bitch sucks your fingers like a cock," Rahjid observed as I opened my eyes. I am not sure how long I had been cleaning dad's fingers but I bet it was a full thirty seconds that I was thinking about something else – in my 'happy place'. That quiet refuge in my mind where I go when I have to do unpleasant and disgusting things some times as my only escape from the vulnerability of being naked and on display. "You like sucking daddy's fingers, slut?" Dad was standing over me and looking down at me with a perverted stare in his eye. I could see from the bulge in his pants that I had been pumping my mouth up and down and in and out on his fingers and he enjoyed it. "Yesss Masster, I am a good little cock sucker for you." I sounded so pathetic as those words slithered out of my mouth – like a bimbo in heat but I was trying to sound sexy and do a good job. I at least was able to talk around his fingers without sounding like I had a mouth full of marbles which says something for the merits of practice makes perfect. I could see from the look on Rahjid's face that he is a fan of bad acting because he was grinning like a cat that had two canaries for lunch. "Would you like me to suck your cock, Master?" I asked as seductively as I could. I even boldly moved to unbuckle my father's pants since it seemed like a no-brainer he would. I was shocked when he reached down and slapped me hard across the face. "This is prime earning time, you will suck my cock when I give you permission and not before ... is THAT understood slut?" "Yes Master, thank you sir for reminding me I overstepped my bounds. May I have my license returned to my asshole so I can get back to work Sir? " I instantly felt stupid for having been so aggressive. "No, you dumb cunt. You will clean each other up and eat some of the cold wings we brought back for you as soon as your mom gets back from her reward." I know the guys have made us bend over backwards to let them have more than just a little payback for the things we did and we sort of brought all this on ourselves by agreeing to their rules. I wonder sometimes if it is only my sense of obligation, duty and fairness that keeps me exposing myself to new and awkward humiliations? Then my mom comes hobbling back from our 'cabana' with my Brother pulling her by two cords tied to her nipple rings and I realize that it is not just about me. If I ran screaming from this waking nightmare and saying that this is too much, too far and too extreme (which by every right, any sane person probably would) then my mom would do this alone. She is not the type to give up or quit, especially if it is something she agreed too. I remember the week she went to an extreme Pilates class that she was teaching assistant at even though she had the flu – this is like that week except times ten and with a butt plug up our asses, lol. I could see my mom's stubborn tenacity by looking at her with her hands cuffed in front of her, whimpering and naked with a wad of toilet paper stuck in her mouth while my brother slaps her ass as he leads her through the darkened parking lot to where we were. I wonder if she thinks I am half as strong as she is? "Okay, spit it out, cow tits" Chris finally said when the two of them were back in the pool area. I could see he had taken the time to wrap the same cord he had around my mother's tits around her legs so she was hobbled and around her wrists to bind them together. My mom obediently spit out the toilet paper on to the ground helplessly letting drool drip down her lip as it splattered on the cement. "Tell them what you did, dumbass" Chris demanded. "I asked for permission to use toilet paper Sir, because I thought that I was getting the privilege of using the toilet." "Oh, we are going to start this again? You WERE given the rare privilege of sitting your fat ass on the toilet. A glorious benefit a slutty whore like you doesn't deserve and for which you should be thankful. But that wasn't enough for you. You think you deserve even more reward for such a measly performance tonight. I was being merciful to you and you sought to take advantage of your young Master by asking for something you knew you didn't deserve. I see he at least had the good sense to punish you appropriately. Well done son." Chris had already chastised her back in the bathroom and I could see fresh pink hand slaps all over her face and tits even in the barely lit pool area. "I am thankful sir. Thank you so very much for permitting me to experience what I've been missing." My mom stammered out in response, sounding contrite and appreciative of small favors like that. Somehow even though I had not had the "privilege" mom did, I wondered if it wasn't just easier to continue to shit on the ground like a dumb animal than to get a fresh taste of what I was missing only to have to go back to the normal way. Then again I am such a creature of habit, maybe that's just my subconscious resisting change now that I am used to something. I just realized I chose the words "the normal way" to describe the disgusting and degrading way my brother and father insist we squat down to shit right in front of them so they can laugh – so what does that say about me? "Don't interrupt me when a Taylor man is talking! You keep your mouth shut! Is that understood slut?" Chris gave my mom a slap across the face so loud even Rahjid felt it. I've been on the receiving end of those slaps and while they sting they sound much worse than they hurt – that or my tolerance to pain has increased from this training. Mom took it with a wince and a submissive look of acceptance like a champ. "Yes Sir," my mom stood silently at attention only slightly shivering. "You know that sluts like you should not waste good toilet paper on your dirty assholes when you've got tongues to do the job of cleaning your fudge bakers, right?" "Yes master," my mom obediently said with her hands out in front of her and a little bit of drool still on her lip. "Is being around all these greedy whores affecting you so much already then that you would dare to ask for toilet paper when Assface here was waiting for you to come clean her little piss-pocket and shit-hole like a good doggy?" "I guess so Sir," my mom wasn't sure how to answer that one but added "I am sorry, I should have not been so greedy, will you please forgive me Sir?" "You let me shit first and squatted in front of me for my amusement when we went to that bathroom because you know I am your superior, right skank?" Chris was going into affirmation mode. "Yes Sir," my mom admitted without hesitation. "You sucked my dick while I was shitting because you are my slut aren't you?" he asked. "Yes sir, that is my obligation to be a cocksucker for you," she was swallowing because she probably could see what he was driving at already. My mom was an expert at reading between the lines and predicting where things are going to go – much more than I can ever hope to be. "You know that sluts like you don't waste toilet paper when you can just use your tongue to clean out each other's pussy holes and shitters right?" he asked impatiently. "Yes sir, I admitted that already," my mom sounded calm, subservient and attentive. "So as a slut who has whored with her daughter, that believes sluts don't get the same privileges that are reserved for people above their station, are you going to use toilet paper after the training is over?" Chris had never really asked a question quite like that. I was glad I wasn't the one getting the affirmation because I wasn't sure how to answer that one. "Would I be allowed to again once our payback is up and the training and education is complete Sir?" Mom asked politely. "Yes you would," Chris grimaced while offering his permission as if it was an imposition to him to tell her what she could use – even though he never paid a dime for anything in the house. "Then I guess I would since I can Sir," my mom had followed the line of logic to its conclusion. "So then you really don't believe that toilet paper restriction applies to sluts, just sluts with an obligation to be obedient and not wasteful?" Chris asked in a demanding tone. I would have been caught flat-footed without an answer if I had been the one on the spot. "Eyes front, shoulders back, tits out!" Chris slapped mom across her bulging tits as she searched for an answer. Mom's body popped with a crispness for lack of a better term as her tits bounced up once from the slap and then she shifted back into place back straight and legs close together with her hands at her side with precision. "So tell me, slut? Will you continue to waste toilet paper after this is over and you are released from your obligation to me and Dad?" Chris reiterated his question more impatiently than before as my mom's eyes sort of welled up with indecision. My dad had been standing in the background silently with his arms folded. He intervened before my mom was forced to answer. He tapped his phone and said "Look, we gotta get these bitches cleaned up and fed so they can make us some money. They've had enough affirmations to get them in the right mood I think, we need to stop babying them every time they need a little motivation." Dad sounded gruff and impatient but I wondered if he was just trying to avoid making Mom answer right then because he felt sorry for how far Chris was pushing her? "Get the dumb bitch's legs untied and put her on the ground with her slut daughter so they can eat this chicken and clean each other off, fucking mosquitos are biting." He slapped his own back hard. Then I noticed the little bugger buzzing around my ear. I was dutifully in position on all fours with the butt plug rammed up my ass. Then without thinking I felt a mosquito land on my ass and I reached behind myself and slapped it hard. "Oh, see what you did? Now the little twat is so jealous of the big twat getting attention she has begun spanking herself!" I couldn't tell if Dad was joking or seriously thought I was spanking myself but I was sure of one thing – that I was about to be punished. "Why ya spanking ya self, Why ya spanking ya self" Chris moved my hand twice over my ass to make me spank my same ass cheek as he mocked me sarcastically. "I agree with you dad, the two cunts don't deserve an extended affirmation, but you have to admit they both need punishment?" "Oh I never said they didn't. I just don't want to get eaten up out here all night by skeeters." Dad replied matter of factly while swatting another one. Mom was already next to me on all fours and we looked at each other with a silent glance that was half amusement and half hysteria. The kind of conspiratorial glance you give to someone who is sitting right next to you right before you take the plunge on a roller coaster. I smiled at her and she smiled at me and that gave me renewed strength to accept my punishment whatever it may be. "I was going to let you two cunts eat chicken wings off the ground, but because you've been misbehaving tonight, I think as punishment you can eat them out of each other's filthy pussies and assholes while you clean each other up." Dad finally decided our fate as he announced the punishment. I don't know if the feeling I had was disappointment or not – that hardly seemed like a punishment compared to some of the corrections they normally did. I just realized I admitted I was disappointed the punishment was not more severe for merely slapping a mosquito on my ass – who am I? Mom was the first to get 'stuffed', she was directed to lay on her back and spread her legs apart. Chris crammed three chicken drumsticks in her pussy and one in her ass with the meat part facing out. I was told to kneel between her legs and lick the meat off the bone with my tongue while I kept my hands behind my back. I did not hesitate to obey – I was starving and greasy fried wings would do as well as anything at the moment. Dad pulled my hair before I could put my head all the way between my mom's legs to restrain me like a leash. "I know you are eager to eat your mom's cunt, but let the sauce do its work first." I did not know what he meant until I saw the first spasm in my mom's thigh and then she started to shake. She had her hands above her head and as she started to reach down between her legs Chris stepped down on them and held them in place. Then he took my mom's 'passport' buttplug and drove it into her mouth to keep her from screaming out. Hot sauce. All I could do was think about how much that was going to hurt when it was my turn. I felt a wash of embarrassment when I realized I hadn't instantly felt sorry for my mom instead of thinking about my own fate as I watched her squirm and jerk on the slab cement around the darkened pool. My dad asked me if I was hungry and I replied dutifully that I was thankful for the way I was being trained. He laughed and released my hair and I tried to eat as quickly as I could but they kept kicking me with their shoes in the crack of my ass anytime it looked like I was gobbling instead of licking and nibbling at the spicy meat. The wing sauce burned my tongue. I wasn't sure how mom was able to take it jammed inside her most sensitive parts. She was quivering when I finished the first half-eaten chicken wing. "May I remove the first bone from my mother's cunt and start on the second, Master?" I asked dutifully without taking my head from my mother's crotch. I was given permission and proceeded to bone number two. Rahjid asked about our slavery and how it was that we were permitted to cuss. "I do not let my niece have the cuss, why do you allow this talk?" "Tell him shit-lips." My father kicked my ass with his shoe and I stopped eating for a moment. "I used to use polite euphemisms as a form of vanity, as if I was above using more vulgar terms and the vulgar nature of the act. I am no longer allowed to do that Sir, and will be punished if I try." I swallowed hard as I said the words. I've been such a goody-two-shoes all my life, that when I did cuss it was pretty tame, and what we are doing now had become second nature to me. "You talked like that when you bossed around you father and brother like a little bitch?" Rahjid asked me in his clipped Indian accent. "No Sir, I was still a goody-two shoes who didn't have to be obscene. The things I did pushing them around were obscene but my speech was not." I replied as my mom quivered intensely as the sauce dripped down her thigh onto the sidewalk. "You WILL lick that off the sidewalk when you are done." My father kicked my ass to remind me and I agreed with him. "So you think it obscene what they do to you?" Rahjid asked me. I thought for a long moment about how to answer that and then I said "No sir, we agreed to this treatment and brought it on ourselves. They are making it harder on us than we did them because we started it. I am sorry they had to stay in your motel for so long." "You sorry? You trying to say my motel is not nice place to stay?" Rahjid asked incredulously. I had really stepped into it that time. It was a bug infested dump that only whores rented out. I didn't want to say that, but at the same time I had just preached about not sugar-coating my words and saying the truth. "No offense intended sir, but my father and brother deserve better than this." I decided was about the most diplomatic thing I could say while staying true to the whole honest and vulgar thing. "You deserve better than this?" Rahjid asked me. "No not at all sir. This is perfect for two whores like my mother and I." I wanted to beg him to let me finish the chicken wings because I knew it was hurting my mom but it almost seemed that she mom had gotten her shakes and grunts under control from the hot sauce. "Good, you two stay here to work day shift tomorrow afternoon?" Rahjid said. "That's not up to me Sir, my owners make those decisions about where we stay." I said. "Let the dumb bitch finish eating," Dad said as he pushed my head forward into my mom's crotch. "I will give you one of the girls for day shift tomorrow, but the other stays home with me." Dad said shrewdly. "Yes, whoever makes the least amount of money, can work it off during the day tomorrow." Chris added while I finished the second bone in my mom's cunt. It felt unfair that I was already earning the most money and now mom and I were in competition. I wondered if being home in the backyard would be worse than dayshift here. My ponderings about that got me through eating the next two bones and licking the sauce and everything else off my mom's thighs and the sidewalk. I rimmed her asshole and cunt driving my tongue all the way inside her at the very end more to please the ones watching us than with the belief that I was providing any sanitary cleaning. Then it was my turn to lie on my back. Mom's eyes were red from the pain as she hovered in place between my knees as Chris pulled out a few more half eaten chicken wings and dabbed them with hot sauce right in front of me. "Finger licking good, right sis?" he joked. "Yes Sir, it was and thank you for the meal. Can I ask that you hold my hands down before you insert them in my cunt and asshole Sir?" I felt obliged to say cunt and asshole given I had just told Rahjid that was the rule. "Why? You don't want us to see you flopping around like a fish on the cement?" He giggled. I don't know why but I joked, "I might just accidentally flop around and punch you in the gut." I thought he'd rise up and punch me in mine for talking like that but he just laughed, kneeled down on my hands and bent over me to insert the chicken wings. There were times we could be sassy and playful with the guys but this hadn't felt like one. I wondered if maybe I had turned a corner or if maybe Chris just hadn't really thought about the fact I should take this more seriously. Maybe he just thought it was funny. I didn't have time to think about it because instantly a searing sensation went up and down my spine. "Watch this, we call it pulling a Jamie." Chris slipped the other bones in my cunt and ass but I barely felt them as I started to shimmy and pulse on the ground fighting his weight to struggle from the hot sauce boiling in my skin and causing my clit ring to pulse like it was on fire. My mom's butt plug was unceremoniously plopped into my mouth, after they yanked mine out to insert a chicken wing up my ass just in time to cut off my gasp for air. I could still taste that creamy yet spicy wing sauce on my lips but now I was feeling it on my pussy lips and the sensation was far more intense. I knew I was having a chain-reaction orgasm and shuddering. I also knew my mom was doing her best lick the chicken in the most sexy way possible for the guys. I knew that she was going to have to eat me out when she was done eating but none of that seemed to matter as I mewed and cooed and tried to hold myself still so I didn't choke my mom while she licked the half-eaten chicken meat off the bone. "These girls like the sex." I remember Rahjid saying as I jiggled – my tits bouncing while my ass gyrated in a manner Mrs. Waxerman would have declared "obscene" without a doubt. "Yah, can you believe my tease of a daughter had us buy her a fucking three hundred dollar chastity belt so people couldn't fuck her precious little twat and now she can't seem to get enough dick?" My dad complained about me. I was too distracted to do more than bite my lip and struggle under my brother's weight while my mom worked over the last remaining chicken bone. I knew she was savoring every bite before she had to clean me up with her tongue. My eyes were half-open and half-rolling in the back of my head as I struggled against pain and pleasure, but I noticed her wiggling her ass back and forth like an eager puppy – a nice tough mom, the guys probably loved that! I wish I had thought of that when it was my turn. "Three hundred dollar? I thought you had the money problem?" Rahjid sounded disgusted at the excess spending. "Yeah, how do you think I ran up that much of a bill? All the fucking shit these two assholes want and need, those engraved butt plugs, it all costs." "Tut, tut, tut" I could hear Rahjid say condescendingly as my mother's tongue began to slather my tender cunt. I slowed down gyrating and began to move my hips in a rotation with her tongue. I wanted to call out something but my mouth was gagged. I wanted to grab her hair and hold her in place but my arms were under my brother's weight. I could do nothing but lay back and let my mom lick my entire pussy and asshole and when she was done, she looked up at me and winked. I was sweating and in awe of how pleasurable, it had been. She had been generous with her tongue using it to caress and kiss but also to touch on spots no one had touched before and it tingled in a new way – like a soft gentle rain had washed over me. "Do you want to inspect my daughter's cunt and asshole Sir? It's clean now." Mom said to my dad. "Oh it better be, after you used that suction hose you call a mouth on it for ten minutes." My dad sounded impatient but there was a hint of his approval in the tone of his voice. I continued to lie on my back with my legs spread while my mother remained kneeling between my legs waiting for him to check. He realized we were waiting for his response and added, "No, it's just going to get filled up with cum anyway, isn't it?" I nodded yes. I could feel that my forehead was sweaty. I bet I had that 'freshly fucked' look on my face like my world had just been rocked - because it had. Way to go mom for the extra effort! I mean you have to do it anyway so you might as well do it really, really well, lol. I guess I really am pretty selfish. I've spent two paragraphs explaining how awesome my mom ate my pussy just then and all of it about how thoroughly she had just gotten me off. My nipples were also aching, not only because of the intensely primal sexuality of what had just happened but because I had not been permitted to milk myself. My father kicked my hand when I absent mindedly reached up to stroke my nipple ring between my finger and thumb. "Don't make me punish you again. You can play with those in front of customers, if you can find any." He was staring down at me with a half-grin on his normally serious face. "Yes Sir," I gulped obediently as I started to regain my composure and sit up. I rose to my feet and stood obedient next to my mother, lit only by the moon and a flickering street light in the darkness. My father threw a wet sloshy pile of clothes at my mother's chest, "Put this on beast, it's your reward for out-humiliating your daughter tonight." The clothes hit the sidewalk but she obediently bent at the waist and started to dress in the clothes she had on earlier. I don't know if you can imagine the sound of duct tape being pulled and ripped coming from over your shoulder, but it can be a startling and scary thing when the sudden realization hits you that it is all you will be permitted to wear. "Well Sis, time for a little fuct tape," Chris applied a single grey strip between my legs and up my ass crack and then two smaller ones across my nipples before slapping my bottom and telling me "go get my money, slut." "Yes Sir, thank you." I looked at my mom who was still trying to slip into her shoes and I realized that most of what I wrote was entirely visible on her body. Her top was all wet and slung down enough you could almost make out all of Ask me about my Candied Titted Bitch who used to be on the honor roll' Blacks please fuck me in the butt! asshole' was almost entirely covered up by her skirt. But 'I am a whore for my son and husband who own my ass. If found running loose please call 555 -7374, so I can be punished and returned to my owners.' was perfectly legible in red marker on her back because of the low-slung nature of the half-top she wore. You would have had to lift up the shirt a little to read 'And I love every fucking second of it' which may come us a humorous shocker to anyone who did. I guess it may be also a funny reveal when they remove her mini-skirt and see 'When you are finished fucking me, Piss all on my back' and the concentric rings I drew like a target in a burst of inspiration (and mean-ness). I think it has helped us that we are so competitive at times, but other times we end up pushing each other in ways I think the guys would never have thought of - I guess it's a double edged sword. In retrospect though, I intended the target to be funny and not really mean. I took stock of what was on my own body as well. There was "Milk, Milk' between the separation of my tits. 'I just popped my cherry' right above my clit with a little drawing of a cherry. The duct tape covered up only part of the word 'popped'. Caution, I leave big, stinky shits' with the dog turd and fly illustration, was most likely still very visible around my tattoo on my ass. You could see 'Hip's don't lie, I am a giant fat-ass.' For her tramp-stamp. 'SNOOKI TAKES IT UP THE ASS LESS THAN ME' in big capital letters with flowery dicks on either side just above the waist bone where a tramp stamp would be and the letters 'DTF'. I love nigger dick up my ass almost as much as my dad's and brother's cocks, written below my tattoo with only a little bit of the duct tape covering up the words as it ran between my ass crack. "Well Jamie, you've got no school tomorrow but I guess you are about to get a lesson in African American Studies tonight." My brother quipped. I gave him sort of a 'hardy-har-har' lemony look to laugh it up and he just grinned. They had us hook, line and sinker and we were already half-way through. In for a penny, in for a pound I suppose. I started in one direction down the sidewalk and my mom in the other. I wanted to talk to her about all that had happened and apologize for some of the things I wrote in case she didn't realize it was in the same spirit my brother teases me. However, it was probably for the best that we didn't spend time chit-chatting and got to work. I couldn't believe I was really in the worst section of town, walking down a sidewalk wearing nothing but duct tape and a dog collar in my bare feet and I was getting away with it. Even walking through my own neighborhood in the super skimpy bikini I felt there was an element of plausibility to what I was doing. I would appear to people as just a dumb teenager who is a little liberal about what she wears. This however was worse than walking naked I think because it was obvious I came out here intentionally like this. Then again I wasn't streaking down the sidewalk, so maybe I should count my blessings before I try to imagine what it would be like to work the track in the nude. A few cars passed by with a horn honk and a couple 'looky-loos' slowed down to get a gander at what I was wearing. I smiled at them invitingly and they just drove on – rejection does suck. I am starting to get a taste of what Chris must have felt when dealing with girls. It is hard not take it personally. I was standing in front of an old Quiznos that had long since gone out of business when a cop car whisked by me. I held my breath. "Oh god, what will I say?" I am a very truthful person, but at the same time I realized that I needed to be very careful how much truth I said so I don't get the whole family in trouble. I bit my lip and looked over my shoulder to see if the cop had pulled over, thoughts running through my mind of how messy this was going to be. He was gone. The streets were not that busy – there was no way he could have missed me. He didn't even slow down or stop. I guess they are used to hookers working out here at night, but the other girls said the cops do hassle them some times. I let out a long breath of relief that this time I had missed the bullet. I think as awful as everything was there was this weird adrenalin rush building in me from the excitement of walking around outside like this in public and from the chance of being caught by the cops. Maybe I am getting twisted? The old Jamie would have pissed herself at the thought of being caught littering or walking on the grass at the park. I am definitely getting twisted because the other thought in my head was that I couldn't wait to get the duct tape off my boobs so I could milk myself. It looked like I would be getting my chance, a nice old man stopped where I was walking. "You look like you could use a lift?" he said as he rolled down his window. "You know, I could use a date actually." I winked channeling a little of my fake sassy southern accent. "Get in, and we can talk about it." he offered. He was mid 40s, close with cropped blonde hair and glasses. "Hi, my name is Alan." I almost said, "My name is Ass face" but instead I caught myself and said, "Hi, my name is Jamie" "You aren't wearing much," Alan stated the obvious. "Yes, because I don't like to waste time, Sir." that wasn't technically a lie but I didn't think he wanted to hear how I lost a bet and my mom got to wear clothes and I didn't – I will leave that just between me and my journal. "You look like you have something written on you, between your boobs?" He glanced over at me while continuing to drive. "Here is my motel," I smiled while guiding him into Rahjid's parking lot and thinking about what I wanted to say about that. "It says Milk, Milk," I decided to fall back on plain old simple honesty – I am really predictable that way. "Oh?" his eyes lit up as he parked the car and looked over at me. "Yeah, as in when the duct tape comes off, you can suck on these and milk, milk them." I cupped my almost completely exposed tits and gave him a sexy smile. "What I like about you is how completely naïve and innocent you look." He stroked my hair with his hand. I have to admit my heart was beating fast and I was nervous, so much so it finally dawned on me this guy could have a knife and this was something he was about to say to his prey before he reached out with a knife or something. I could feel my adrenalin pumping in fear. I had been going for 'sexy' but I knew deep down that when I give those big goofy smiles I look more like a Taylor Swift polly-anna type than I do a sexy Megan Fox. "Relax, relax, it's cool, so how do I get to suck those titties of yours?" Well, Sir I can do a 10 dollar hand job right here," I started to go through the prices for him. "Hon, a word of advice, start high and go low, what does it cost for everything?" he sounded like he knew the game and wanted to cut to the chase with me. "Well, everything is 100 dollars sir?" "Super, and you will give me at least 20 minutes?" I didn't know how long I was supposed to give him but I said "Or until you cum, Sir." "I like the Sir stuff, okay do you have a room here or is the reason you are charging so little, I got to pay a little man for the room?" he looked over his shoulder in the parking lot. "No sir, it's all inclusive, I just have to see if the room is not occupied," I opened my car door and led him over to the room. "Oh you share the room with your boyfriend or something?" He said as we walked towards our cabana. "This may sound weird, but I share it with my mom sir." I told him like it was totally normal. He took it that way too – "Yeah, hard times falling everywhere. We all have to do what we have to do to make ends meet." "That is so true, Sir." I realized that explained everything about why my mom and I had suspended the training and were working as whores, and in a funny way there was probably a metaphor about our 'ends meeting' together when we are tied up ass-to-ass. "Can I ask, does your mom also work the streets as well?" Alan was very businesslike but polite. I could hear my mom croaking and grunting in the cabana as I stepped up to the screen door and so could he. "Fuck me harder, that it's, I am such a naughty whore for you" I had heard her all my life telling me about her exercise class or asking me about school and so it was a little off-putting for me to hear that same voice talking dirty while she was getting fucked hard. I looked at him and he already had the answer to the question, "I guess the room is occupied." "I could probably fuck you in there with them. There is enough room for all of us if you don't mind." I could tell before I finished the sentence he wasn't okay with that. "We could go back to the car and fuck in the backseat." I could feel him getting apprehensive and suspected I was about to lose this customer when I felt someone pinch my ass hard from behind. "Surprise Betch!" It was Maya who had just goosed me from behind. "Oh hello Maya," Alan said politely. "Hello Alan, I see you are trying someone new tonight?" "Well I do like to sample, but you know I think you are hot." Alan said a little less convincing then he probably should have. "Oh can the crap Alan, this one is sweet but she doesn' t have a little something extra between her legs." Maya swiveled her hips like an old time movie star and released an exaggerated sigh. Alan was quiet for a moment as if thinking about his words carefully. "I am just busting your balls, champ. I can see your mom has a live one in there, or maybe two." Maya smiled as she listened to my mom repeatedly chant 'Oh, Oh, Oh' over the creaky mattress sounds. "You two love birds can use my cabana. I need to drain the main vein anyway." I thanked her but she was already walking away and tossed a hand over her shoulder to express it was really nothing while she puffed a cigarette on one of those long stem cigarette holders like that sexy vixen in Roger Rabbit. Maya's cabana was nothing like our stinky little fuck hut. It was lit in soft red light and candles, decorated with ornate wall paper, crystal lamps and bawdy paintings from the 1800s and early 1900s of women with their backs exposed. The bed was much softer and the sheets looked clean. I smiled at Alan who now had a chance to look me over. "How old are you may I ask?" he looked me up and down impressed and then added "Eighteen, I am hoping?" "I am," I lied because I assumed the question of my age might lose me a customer after all this. "You are a terrible liar, little girl but let's get you out of that outfit." He sat on the bed. "Can I have the money first, Sir?" "I can see this isn't your first time, you know a little something - very good." He pulled a crisp one hundred dollar bill out of his shirt pocket. It looked like one he had put there for the express purpose of paying for sex and laid it down on the night stand. "You mind using a condom, Sir?" I saw that Maya had a small collection of latex gloves, condoms, baby powder, A&D ointment and the like delicately arranged on an ornate silver tray near the bed. "I would mind not using a condom, but maybe not so much with you. How long have you been working out here?" "Well, I know better than to lie to you now Sir, so um, this is actually my first night." I said. I could see his dick rise visibly in his pants and I decided it was time to be a little more forward and unbuckle him. I started to remove his pants before he took over and slipped off his shoes. "So how do we take your outfit off?" "I guess it just rips off, Sir." I swallowed thinking about how brutal that must sound. "You are kidding, right?" Alan looked at me with disbelief. "That's how my brother takes it off. Just a quick rip. It's really not that bad. Would you like me to do it Sir?" "Your what?" Alan seemed even more skeptical. "I am sorry, I don't understand the question Sir." I said innocently. "You said your brother rips off your duct tape? He lives in the cabana too?" "Oh, um well actually no Sir." I realized I had just casually mentioned my brother without thinking about how that would sound to someone who had just entered this part of the story of my life. I was about to try to explain when I felt a sudden tear on my left tit as the duct tape peeled away revealing my sore and puffy nipple with its ring. "Your first night as a whore, but you've got nipple rings?" "A lot of my friends at school do sir, it's more popular than you may think these days" I offered while putting my hands behind my head so he could release my other breast. "Yes, at the COLLEGE where you go to school with other 18 year olds, right?" "Yes Sir, there at that college," I didn't even wince this time as he pulled off the other strip of duct tape from my tits. "You have an amazing body!" he said as he admired me standing in front of him. "I am glad you like it sir," I said waiting with my fingers interlaced behind my head. "Do you want to do the middle strip, I don't want to hurt you," Alan smiled. "You can if you want, Sir." I said. The duct tape hurt but I've had that kind of short term pain almost every morning for weeks now, it was nothing compared to some of the things I've been through. "I can hurt you if I want, or I can remove the duct tape?" Alan asked playfully as he gingerly peeled my duct tape up enough to give him enough to rip down. "Both Sir." I said honestly just as he was pulling down on the strip between my legs and I think my comment totally started him. "You mean I could spank you?" He said. "You are paying one hundred dollars, if you want to spank me, you have twenty minutes." I reinforced the time limit he himself had suggested and then offered, "Do you want to spank my tits, pussy or ass Sir?" He didn't say a thing. He quickly ripped the duct tape from my cunt and the pain seared through me. He then stood up and he had this, and I can only describe it as somewhere between mischievous and evil, grin on his face. As I focused on his face I was suddenly surprised by a sharp pain on my right tit as he slapped it hard. I gasped from the surprise more than the pain. My tits were so swollen and full from having not been milked that they already hurt and the surprise of the slap caused me to make more noise than I normally would. It also had the result of causing milk to spray out of my tit which really surprised my customer. Suddenly he was all giddy and slapping my tits with both hands just to watch the milk spray out. I hate to say this but as the pain grew from the slapping, because he was slapping harder and harder as the spray started to lesson, but the pleasure was growing and growing slowly. Finally my tits stopped spraying milk, after what seemed like an hour, but was only a couple of minutes and he threw me over his lap. He started spanking my ass hard. That glorious feeling that I now associated with a building orgasm continued to grow. It felt like he spanked me a hundred times but it was only twenty or so and then he threw me on the bed on my back. I thought he was going to fuck me then and there but he pulled my legs up and out and slapped my pussy. I screamed through clenched lips in pain because it hurt like hell but it also built my arousal higher than it had ever been. It seemed that I was on a cliff but couldn't go any further no matter how much I tried. I could only lay there as he spanked my pussy hard. The pain both built my arousal higher but kept me from cumming. I thought it had been going on forever and had lost track of everything at that point. He could do anything to me and I would have been too out of it to really do anything to stop him if he tried. Finally he threw himself down on top of me and I thought he was going to fuck me but was pleasantly surprised when he leaned over my tits and started sucking on one, like he was a baby suckling at its mother's breast, while he pinched the other nipple hard, causing pain in that tit while the other was causing intense pleasure. It only took a couple of minutes for him to finish sucking the milk out of that tit I think. I guess he had forced more out than I thought by slapping them, before he switched tits and repeated the process. As I said before, I had lost track of time because I was so close to orgasm by the time he finished, all I could do was moan, more ... more. That's when he immediately forced his averaged sized cock into me. I was so on edge from what he had done so far that I immediately went into one of my patented 'Jamie Orgasms'. What was it Master Chris called it at the County Fair, a 'Jamie Gasm'? God I can't even keep from writing Master when I'm writing in my own journal when talking about my brother or father. Anyway, as I said, when my customer started fucking me, I immediately went off with one of the best orgasms I can remember. I don't know why my body reacted that way and I didn't even think about it at the time. All I did was wrap my arms and legs around the guy like he was my long lost lover and screamed out, "Oh God ... Oh God ... Keep fucking me. Oh, Oh, Oh, More ... More ... More..." Then I began to scream as the orgasm climbed beyond my being able to speak and I just screamed out my pleasure. The guys didn't try to kiss me or silence me. He could tell I was having a real orgasm from the ecstasy written on my face and the sound of my voice and I think he wanted the world who could hear to know that he was a super stud or something. I don't know what he looked like but I'm sure he had a big shit eating grin on his face as he fucked me. I lost all awareness of anything going on around me. Suddenly the glorious feelings inside me had built up so much that it overwhelmed me. I had some notion of a warm feeling spreading within my cunt but I was too out of it to realize at the time he had fucked me without a condom and was coming in me. That feeling was what put me over the edge into sweet oblivion. When I became aware of my surroundings, I was lying on my back, on the bed with what seemed like a river of cum flowing out of my cunt. As I slowly sat up, he was just finishing buttoning up his shirt. I was still too out of it to say anything and quietly watched as he took his wallet out and pulled out 2 extra 50 dollar bills and laid them on top of the 100 and said, "You're the first whore who ever had a real cum while I used them. I'm here in town on business once a week. I left my business card with the money too. If you and maybe even your mother would like to entertain me and my customers for some extra cash, I'd surely love to have you. Or if you just want to have another go by yourself with just me, just call me and we'll arrange something when I'm in town. I don't trust the other whores around here to be disease free and act properly but I can tell that you've been raised to be respectful and if you are I'm sure your mother is that way as well. I have some customers that would love to have a chance at a mother and daughter combination and I know it would help my business. You made my night little girl." After that he finally walked out the door. Twenty minutes later on the dot he emerged from Maya's cabana with a grin from ear to ear. I quickly struggled out of bed and wobbled out after him, cum dribbling down my thighs and completely naked. My tits had been milked, my pussy, ass and tits were rosy pink and sore and okay journal between you and me - I had a grin from ear to ear. I don't think I could do justice to what he did to me from moment to moment during those twenty minutes but suffice it to say he made a lot of eye contact with me and for a fourty-year old man he not only had a lot of stamina but it was small things he did like caress me between spanks and brush back my hair with his hand as he was squeezing and kneading my tits. It was an intensely intimate experience, even though it hurt and in the end I found myself wishing we had longer than twenty minutes. It was about as much time as he needed because when he finally came he filled me up with his semen, more than anyone ever had by the way, and he had this intensely relieved and relaxed look on his face. He even thanked me again as we walked out the door and said that he normally just comes to hookers for sex but "That was something else." He said it with as much passion as I've seen in anyone and knew he really meant it. He left it at that but I think the word he was looking for was despite all the spanking and rough handling there was this element of affection between us while he did it. My body responded well to him playing with it and the more he gave it attention the more it seemed to turn him on to see me get turned on. I hate to say it but I was kind of daydreaming about having a lover who would treat me like that. Love me but give me the kind of mix of pain and pleasure this total stranger had given me. I almost wish I could keep his business card to myself. But I knew that if I didn't give it to my masters that I would be severely punished. I was shaken out of my revelry quickly though. Maya was outside after we left, smoking her cigarette and only said, "Took ya long enough, hope you didn't leave too big a mess in there, toots." He had a big grin on his face but also seemed to have a bit of a worried look, like he was going to lose a good steady customer. He also held out a just filled condom and said, "I hope you don't mind but I peaked in when you quick making any noise to be sure you were all right and saw that he was fucking you without a condom. I didn't want to see you punished like your mom was so I gave ya a little sample of mine. Here." I could only nod my thanks as I took the condom and stuck it in my mouth quickly knowing I needed to report to Rahjid's window. I immediately tasted the cum he had spread around the outside of the condom with the taste of the latex. When I glanced at Maya he shrugged as he said, "I just wanted you to have a taste of my cum. I knew I'd never get those sweet lips of yours around my cock." He left it at that and went into his cabana. Rahjid's wife was at the little counter sitting expressionless. "Money first," she commanded and I slipped the hundred dollar bill under the window, I kept the tip for masters. There is something intensely humiliating about charging people for sex, but I would say twice as much for having to turn around and hand over everything you just earned after sex. I was so high on endorphins from the last one though I really did not care. "Condom next," she said robotically through the thick plastic window. I bent down a bit so I could drop it in the space where the money was supposed to go, doing my best to hide the money in my hand. She looked only mildly disgusted as she removed it and put it into a bag, "Thank you" she announced the end of our transaction. I wondered why Rahjid wanted us to give the condoms to him for but on the other hand I wasn't sure I wanted to ask. "May I have another duct tape, Ma'am?" I asked awkwardly. "No," she said without a second thought. "I am supposed to work the rest of the night in the nude, Ma'am?" I questioned again because I had been told I would get new duct tape re-applied. The one I had been wearing was already in the garbage and folded on itself so it wouldn't stick even if I went back and pulled it out of the trash. Without looking at me Rahjid's wife turned her head and let out a string of hindi. There was a short pause while I anticipated a response from Rahjid but couldn't hear it and then his wife turned back to me and said without any expression "Ing ge pan di kut teh." "I am sorry, I don't understand what that means." "It means, I have no duct tape. I cannot help you." and with that I could tell the woman could care less that I was standing naked in her parking lot. "Okay then, I can just work naked I um guess." I was half-smiling at the woman as I backed away into another goose from Maya. "Hey sweet-cheeks, we gotta stop meeting this way" she said releasing the squeeze on the 'taint' between my ass and pussy. "Oh yeah ... thanks so much for letting me use the cabana I said aloud, and especially for the filled condom Ma'am, I whispered so Rhajid's wife couldn't hear. Have you seen my father or brother around?" I said this all a little less surprised at the awkward goose than I probably should have been. "Your brother is cute, he looks like the kind of guy who would like to play with me some time." Maya said ignoring my question. I am not a jealous person and I can't remember ever having envy or jealousy but a tiny part of me felt possessive of him. I wanted to tell her to keep her mitts off him for some reason but I suppressed that urge and just repeated my earlier question. "Why, you don't want to work naked?" she teased me playfully. "Am I allowed to do that out here?" I asked in a tone that made me sound more wet behind the ears than I intended. "You would do that, wouldn't you?" Maya didn't give me a chance to answer her rhetorical question before answering "You may not have too for long, Mister moneybags just arrived." She pointed to a caddilac pulling into the motel parking lot. "I don't mind you taking a regular customer like Alan for a spin, but if you take this one, then I will cut you, you get me?" "Yes Ma'am" I said taking her warning to heart. "Lighten up Girly, I am just teasing. Come on, everyone will be lining up for this guy, he is weird, but he has a lot of cash. The bars must be closing down the street because he is usually the big whale payday for one of us." I didn't hesitate to follow her even though I was naked. I supposed a customer in this parking lot would think that was pretty normal. My mom was already there along with other girls Ronnie and Doris. My mom's hair was totally fucked up and tossled every which way and she looked like she had been put through the ringer. "Wow Mom, you look like it's been rough tonight." My mom turned to me and smiled unexpectedly and said "Hey, at least I am not walking around the parking lot without a stitch on, ho". "Oh it's like that is it?" I put my hands playfully on my hips forgetting for a moment about Mr. Bigshot the bigfish. "Ladies, Oh my god, it's so nice to see all of you again!" a man stepped out of the car and his voice sounded instantly familiar. He had that hippy-dippy tone to his voice like Tommy Chong from "That 70's Show" and the same goofy smile on his bearded face. It was our old friend 'Buford' and he immediately recognized us too. He brushed past Ronnie, Maya and Doris and walked over to us "Oh my god, Rock and fucking Roll, that's so awesome that you two are here, do you work here now?" "Yes Sir, I guess we do." I said to him. "And you are fucking naked in the parking lot, what a rush, how did that thing go at your high school?" "You don't remember I sucked your dick right after the half-time show Sir?" "Sometimes my memory is a little bad," he admitted. "I remember you telling me all about the chastity belt my father bought for me, Sir, every little detail." "I did? That is so fucking cool, I love when I do that!!" he made an air-guitar riff motion with his hands while he silently jammed to his own internal groove. "Look, can I play with both of you or is that not allowed?" "Yes sir, it's definitely allowed." My mom looked at me as if I might have objected but I gave her a broad smile of agreement. "Holy motherfucking shit, that is so awesome and you two are like sisters right, like the Judds?" we walked him towards our cabana leaving the other girls disappointed behind, while my mom reminding him who we were. I could hear Ronnie say 'Talk about a bitch, aint that some shit? They first night and they get that big spenda!" in the distance. "You know he aint never gonna choose you," Doris squealed in her Brooklyn accent in response. "No, he may not, but he aint gonna pick your fugly ass, nee-ver" I could hear Ronnie say as we stepped into the Cabana. "So would one thousand cover it, ladies? If not I can go to the ATM." He smiled generously. He was wearing a denim jacket and a tye-dye shirt with a red banana around his long black hair but the thing you notice about him was his thick bushy black beard tinged with a little grey. How the beard makes his teeth look so white when he smiles - which is just about all the time. I whispered to mom, "We are only allowed to charge one hundred a piece". "I know but one thousand dollars? Can we afford to pass that up?" "Mom, it is dad's rule." "So tell on me, and let him punish me for getting him more money." She whispered impishly. "Should I come back later, ladies?" Buford was happily stomping his foot to play an invisible kick-drum only he could see and what I would only assume was bass guitar. "Born to be Wiiiilld" he sang "Head on the highway, looking for adven-churr, and whatever comes our way..." he spun his strumming arm in a wide circular motion on the air guitar he was playing. "Oh darling, we can make it happen!" My mom grinned as she sang the same tune. This must be a golden oldie from their generation because I had no idea what the lyrics were. She was stepping out of her clothes as she sang along. Her face was greedy with lust as she danced to the silent tune he was playing that only they two could hear. "Take the world in a love embrace!" Buford's face lit up with pure exultant happiness. My mom wrapped her arms around him and began to stroke his beard while she reached for his belt with her other hand. "Fire all of your guns at once" she sang while I stood there looking awkward at this. "Oh God damn, And explode into space!!!" Buford's glasses were fogging up and he was smiling orgasmically like he was stoned out of his mind. He always looks slightly stoned, this was much different – this was such a distilled moment for him that he seemed to have reached some internal nirvana. "Come on Jamie," My mother invited me to lay on the bed with him. She had already slid her own buttplug out and laid it to the side without cleaning it with her mouth. I was almost going to do it for her, but there was an intensity to how they were playing with each other, that I joined in and soon had mine out. I will say that usually when we've been fucked together it's near each other but nothing like what we started doing with Buford. I was reluctant at first and the only word I can use to properly describe it was we "double-teamed him" My mom took over and started to writhe on his dick once we were all undressed but she continued to lead me down to suck on it. She made no attempt to make him use a condom and she had no problem kissing him. I guess Buford was a special kind of customer and I had several encounters dancing for him and sucking his dick before. We both lay on either side of him and kissed each other with him in the middle. This seemed to make him squeal with words that I can't quite find to describe the intense gratification he seemed to be getting from it. As mom concentrated on giving Buford the fuck of his life, I reached over and pinched her nipples gently with one hand while reaching down and caressing his balls and mom's cunt where his cock was fucking in and out. They seemed to really like that. If I had made Alan a happy man, I had made Buford a MOTHERFUCKING HAPPY man. In fact, he was quite literally fucking my mother like no one I'd ever seen or experienced, and I was helping him to put his dick in her ass and pussy and she was riding and grinding on it ways I had never even thought about it until then. She did this sort of dance with her waist when she was riding dick that wasn't like my awkward hula-hoop wiggle-butt routine. It was more like this fluid grindy dance where she moved in different directions. It reminded me of the way my dad moved his stick shift when he was changing gears for some reason – there was an almost organic motion happening. I found myself wishing she would teach me how to do that but quickly reminded myself, that I was only sixteen and I wasn't supposed to know those kinds of things at my age. I know diary, I'm beginning to worry that I really am becoming too much of a whore and less like what everyone considers to be a normal girl. I hate to admit this but I'm thinking I kind of like some of this stuff, but I think of myself liking it and I think it's horrible and how I shouldn't be this way. I'm so mixed up right now and I can't even begin to express it. My mom guided Buford's tongue or fingers into my ass and pussy or even into my mouth. I didn't mind, it felt wonderful and I was glad she had taken over because Buford seemed content to ride this out and let it take him wherever he wanted to go. As a matter of fact it felt wonderful because as out of it as he seemed to always be, he knew what to do to make a woman feel good. I actually felt like I might even get an orgasm out of it. I know I was doing my best to give mom one while we did this. She deserved a little pleasure for all of the hell she has been through and how much we will go through if he really gives us the thousand dollars. It seemed that her little gyrations and my little extra help actually did push her over the edge. I don't know for sure, she never told me. All I know is that just as she started to silently shake and stop her erotic little dance, Buford started really grunting. I was very close myself and hoped I'd get at least a little orgasm out of it and actually felt guilty for wishing it. When Buford finally came it was inside my mom and he howled like a wolf who had just been castrated, but in a way that it seemed to like it. Mom quit shaking just before he stopped howling. I was left frustrated because I was so close to cumming but didn't quite get over the edge. I almost wanted to beg him to keep going but I realized we had spent way more than twenty minutes with him. I also knew that we would be punished for taking so much time so it looked like a major punishment coming soon. We lay there for a few moments in one big cuddle. "Did you enjoy that Buford?" My mom asked him with the same tone of voice she would have asked me if I had enjoyed my pancakes when I was 9 years old. "Oh yes, yes I did!! I will never forget this. It was the best night of my entire life." "Well, that is so flattering, we'll be working every night for a while if you want to come back, but we have to get back to work now." The clock was already past 3AM and I was thinking about how much punishment we were going to get for taking so long and over-charging him. I had completely forgotten the extra hundred dollar tip I had been given by Alan. I can't believe I keep calling him by his name. He is really the only customer I had besides Buford who I remembered. I even think of him fondly and almost dreamily like I'm in love with him. I have to remind myself that he is over 40 years old and I'm only 16 and it would never work out. I guess that is because what has been ingrained in me as normal. If I think about it I realize that history is replete with cases of men that old or older marrying young teenagers. I even remember a little episode in our own family history where my great grandmother, way back when in the 1800s was 13 when she married my 35 year old great grandfather. I thought that was disgusting at the time. But now I don't know. I was broken out of my reverie again by mom, "Okay, so that's one thousand dollars, is that what we agreed on, Buford Sir?" My mom said like she was talking pleasantly to a child she was trying to humor. "If you say so, then that is how much it costs." Buford seemed to have forgotten how much he had agreed to pay but he pulled a thick wad of hundreds from his jeans and began to count them out, "One thousand each, God damn thank you so much." Even my mom looked like she was having second thoughts about charging him that much. I gave her one of my 'looks' to warn her that this was beyond greedy. "You know Buford, that's probably too much. We enjoyed it as much as you, how about just five hundred a piece?" "Nonsense, I already counted it. Here you go, Ladies. I shall speak with you tomorrow. I must be going now." His voice sounded different – lucid and completely in control of his emotions. He straightened himself up as he pulled on his boots. He looked at the leather biker boots almost with disgust for a moment as if to say to himself 'Why did I pick this outfit' before shrugging and wishing us a pleasant good morning as he walked out into the night air. "What was that?" I asked after he let himself out the screen door. "That was one thousand dollars EACH!! That's what that was!" my mom was excited and clapping her hands. "I mean at the end, he totally changed into someone else. He wasn't his happy-go-lucky goofy self at the end." "I really didn't notice, dear." My mom had squatted on the floor and was holding the condom under her. "Here let me fill these up real fast, so we can go turn in the money. Get your buttplug back in. We may have time for one more before the end of the night." I couldn't believe she didn't notice the change in Buford, but I didn't have time to say anything more because Dad and Chris were standing in the doorway and looking pissed off. "Oh Honey, don't be mad, we each made a thousand dollars off of him." My mom said casually while continuing to squat over the condom, even though they would obviously know she was dribbling cum in it after he left. "Honey?" Dad asked sternly. "I am so sorry!! I mean Sir and Master, it's just I was so happy that this money will go a long ways. I know you are going to punish us for charging more than we should have, and taking too long to fuck him for a regular customer, and for not having our condoms full to turn in, but I think it was all worth it to help save our house, don't you Master?" I was thinking the key word in that sentence was 'us' as in punish us both. None of that was my idea, but at the same time I had gone along with it. I was afraid to even admit Buford hadn't taken out our butt plugs and that we hadn't cleaned them – but in my heart I was hoping mom would do that. I know I am such a goody-two shoes and it gets me in trouble but I felt so guilty. And then I remembered I had that extra hundred I had been tipped that I had quickly put on the night stand and it dawned on me that I hadn't charged Alan extra but that I should have refused the tip if I was going to stick to the rules. I felt double guilty then and doubly so as I remembered that he also came in me without a condom and had been bailed out by Maya giving me a full one. I realized I needed to come clean. I immediately went, "Ummmm' my last customer actually gave me an extra hundred dollar tip for how good I was for him. He ... uh ... also came in me without a condom. The one I turned in was one of Maya's that he gave me when I left his Cabana. He didn't want me to get in trouble and he also wanted to taste his cum. My customer also gave me his business card and said that if mom or I ever felt like earning a little extra money, he would happily use us to help promote his business with some special customers." I quickly picked up the money and business card, handing it towards dad as I continued to lay in bed. He seemed to ignore me and focused on mom, "Your SON has school in three hours, and you think we have time to punish you two sluts that extensively right now?" dad demanded. I turned my head towards my brother, still lying on the bed, "I am so sorry Master Chris, I lost track of time!! No, I don't think there is time to punish us right now, Sir." My mom's casual fuck-crazy lustful side was fading quickly as she reverted back to a woman under her husband's thumb right before my eyes. "You forgot you also called me 'Honey', you stupid cow. Stand up and stop trying to fill that condom with your dick squeezings." Dad invaded the room and stormed over to me "And you, what are you doing laying on a bed? Your horny little ass get lazy now and think you can put your snail trails on furniture?" "No Sir, I am sorry!" I stood up next to my mom to face his wrath. "You are only to lay in a bed long enough for someone to fuck you, unless otherwise told, you get me, little whore?" Dad got right up in my face and actually seemed angry. "Yes Master," I squeaked out a tiny response. "You are going to pick up all your mom's bad habits. Then what will you do if your husband isn't as generous with discipline as us?" I did not know how to answer that but he answered for me, "I will tell you what you'll be, you'll be a lazy, selfish, materialistic cow who puts her career before her family, and doesn't care how little sleep the men of the family get while she does!!" I said nothing - my father was on a roll with one of his legendary rants. He decided instead to pick up our money and pocket it and leave us each with a hundred bill. "Take those hundreds to Rahjid, and you tell him that is all you earned. I don't want any of your polly-anna 'But I have to tell the truth' bullshit, either." dad was staring at me and I nodded. I felt like I was going to tear up a little. It was close to 4am now and pitch black outside. There wasn't a car on the road and the other hookers had all gone to bed. I thought I saw the orange light of Ronnie's cigarette in a dark corner but I wasn't sure if it was just the lights playing tricks on me but suffice to say that there was a quiet stillness outside. We were both completely naked except for our dog collars when we reported to Rahjid's window. His wife did not looked surprised in the least that our naked tits were bouncing in front of her window. "Money first" We slid the money into the slot under the window and though she looked slightly skeptical she added only "Condoms next". "I am sorry Ma'am, this is all I have." Mom took the very empty condom from her mouth and put it into the slot. The woman made a face of disgust and slipped it into a bag. I desperately wanted to ask what on earth they wanted them for but instead I just asked politely "Free to go?" "Thank you and goodbye," Rahjid's wife expressionlessly stared at us until we turned and walked away from the window back to Chris and Dad. "We're ready to be trussed up in the truck, Sir." My mom said with vigor to her husband. "Oh, but I thought I told you, whoever earns the least gets to stay and work day shift. You earned 40 dollars less than your slut of a daughter, how does that make you feel?" Dad said while making us stand in the middle of the parking lot bare-ass. "Actually, good. I thought Ass-face would do much better than me. I am glad I was able to come close to her earnings Sir." "You actually are a good slut, you know that?" Dad said smiling at us both. "I do sir." My mom admitted with a smile back. "But you know you have to be punished for everything you just did with Buford, right? And then he turned to me and added and you for what you did with your customer." She answered quickly for both of us, "Yes Sir, and we wouldn't have it any other way. We willfully broke the rules. I did want to say one thing though?" "Say it while you follow us behind the cabana. There may be a few truck drivers still out on the road and they don't want to be blinded by your big ass if they happen to ride by." Dad led us behind the cabana where the trash cans and power meter were. "Earlier I said we should be punished, but actually Ass-face had nothing to do with my decisions to over-charge Buford, and take all that time. She shouldn't be punished for my mistakes Sir." That was unexpected of her. I remember feeling something in my stomach when my mom had said "punish US", that might be more like 'why you bitch, I'll get you back for that one' but not in an angry way. I had accepted I would be punished and it was more like a friendly rivalry almost. Dad was already lining her back up against the faded yellow siding of the cabana and putting her hands above her head. He attached a plastic tie to her wrists and then connected that to some cables and wires that went into the house. "Oh she shouldn't, eh? That's just like you to try to weasel one of yourselves out of punishment. Ass-face did you fuck Buford?" "Yes Sir." I admitted. "Did you let him pay you 1,000 dollars for the privilege of depositing that dick down the same cum-hole you let midgets, blacks and whatever else use tonight?" "Actually, he technically didn't fuck me, Sir." I admitted to gasps. "What?" Dad said. It bugs me when people heard me but they ask me to repeat myself, but obviously I am in no position to say anything about that being a personal issue of mine. I probably should be more upset when people tie my naked mother up to a rickety old motel wall – it's funny how while my dad continued to lock her spread eagled against the wall neither of us really paid it that much mind. "I um, well he fucked mom a lot, he mostly played with my pussy and ass Sir. He only had one dick." I added. "I know how many dicks he has," Dad said with disgust. "You really think you deserved to charge someone 1,000 dollars and they didn't even get the satisfaction of playing hide the sausage in your precious little pee-hole? How much do you think that cunt is worth?" "I guess fifty dollars, since that is how much it costs for half and half sir?" I was unsure of the answer. My dad reached between my legs and pinched my clit hard between his fingers. "This wet cum flap is worth fifty dollars for one throw? I blame Obama for the inflation." He laughed as he let it go and turned to my mom. She was now like a fly caught in a web, completely immobilized against the back wall of the cabana and spread eagle. He took a dirty towel and said "Assface, wipe your mom's sweaty thighs and ass down before we leave her here to start her day shift." I dutifully obliged and when I was finished he stuffed the cloth in her mouth to gag her. Then he slapped her titties in an underhanded motion before giving her clit a slap. "You won't have any dicks shoved in that cum hole for a few hours, but you can practice kegels if you want to keep that pussy tight, let me see one." My mom obeyed and winked her pussy at her son and husband while they laughed and walked me towards the truck. Dad ignored her as he walked away but then turned and added "I'll call Rahjid and tell him you are back here when I wake up and take a shower tomorrow. I'll expect you to tell him all the naughty things you did and beg him to punish you before I get here with your whore daughter to start night shift. If he doesn't punish you hard enough for everything, I will. Is that understood?" She meekly nodded as they walked me to the truck. "You are lucky Sis, back to the house for you to lay around with Roscoe all afternoon." "Yes Sir, very lucky." I was thinking about poor mom left like that. She was going to have it so much worse than me. I thought I had seen plastic Tonka trucks and such laying out on one of the cabana patios. If someone's kids wakes up to see that – well then again, they live in a motel with hookers, drunks and crack whores, so maybe that wouldn't surprise them so much. "You seem upset." My dad asked as they were loading me in the truck. "Am I going to be punished for everything, sir?" I asked meekly. "I dunno Dad, she was a pretty good slut." Chris stood up for me, and it only made me feel even guiltier. I blurted out, "Well also, Buford didn't take our buttplugs out, we had to take them out for him and then we didn't clean them until the end." I had my eyes shut tight as I admitted another of our mistakes. "I'll tell you, I'll probably punish you for scrunching that nose up like that as well," Dad chuckled and slapped me on the butt to get me on all fours in the back of the truck. "I'll think about it and tell you after I've had some sleep. We can't get too soft on you, but I do appreciate you telling me what your whore of a mother wouldn't." The cool night air on the drive home whisked over my body like a cool shower. The relaxed feeling I had alone on all fours in the back of the truck actually made the night's debauchery slip away like a dream as we headed for home. Every now and then he would stop and I could see the glow of a red light as it changed to green but either I was now over-tired or I was completely relaxed and putting my mind at ease. I tried to think about my mom tied up on the back of the motel wall and what it would be like as the sunrise greets her naked body and rises over the morning while she waits for someone to untie her so she can be punished. How the anticipation must be driving her crazy, but it seemed surreal. I could only think about returning to 'normal' at home and resting in my own backyard. See diary, I don't even think of normal anymore as sleeping in my house in a nice warm bed in my own room. How sick is that? My tits were sore, my pussy was sore, my ass was sore but the night air had whisked the cool breeze along the sweat on my skin and nothing hurt or ached. I suppose being a whore isn't so bad. I knew it wasn't going to be the glamorous fairy tale of Pretty Woman where a hooker in stockings meets her Bradley Jenkins who whisks her away to five star hotels, fancy dinners and Tiffany's. Don't get me wrong – I saw some really weird shit tonight, but having spent a night working as a whore, I can honestly say it doesn't scare me so much now. I guess I'd have to wonder if life can throw anything worse at me? Speaking of which, the guys stopped at Denny's. Yes, that is right. Dad had just preached about getting Chris home in time to get a little sleep before school but they pulled into Denny's with me naked in the back of the truck. "Want to come inside, Sis?" Chris chuckled over the truck wall as they got out. It wasn't very busy there but I was feeling particularly vulnerable without Mom next to me and naked in the truck bed "Please just hurry back sir?" I pleaded. "What's that? Are you making demands on our time?" I couldn't see him, but I could picture Chris cupping his ear like he hadn't heard me correctly. "Well, just that you said you needed to get some sleep before school, Sir." "Oh suddenly concerned if I get enough sleep are you? Not that you have to stay just like that while we eat?" "Well, okay that too, Sir." I admitted with a laugh while staying on all fours and looking straight ahead. "You know sis, if you were a cookie, you'd be a Whoreo, you know that?" Chris joked in response. "You know if the shoe was on the other foot, I'd call you a double-stuff right now, Sir." I said laughing. There was a quiet pause. I wondered if I had offended him by bringing up when Mom and I were in charge. "It used to be on the other foot," Chris said quite seriously "But I like using this foot to shove up your ass, now stop talking because I am HONGRY!!" he laughed at the end letting me know he was just fucking with my head. He added "If you are good, maybe you can share some left-overs with Roscoe." I had forgotten about Roscoe. As a Dog the sight of a naked female woman on a leash doesn't surprise him. If he saw an elephant or a dinosaur or anything his dog mind just processes it as 'another thing' and he probably doesn't think too much about it. I wish I could be that simple at times. It was desperately quiet in the stillness of the Denny's while I waited for Dad and Chris to finish eating. I heard the loud rumble of a truck pull into the parking lot every now and then but no one saw me. I thought about how I'd explain myself if they did but I couldn't come up with many plausible excuses that I could probably say with a straight face. I was starting to get really tired now that we were not moving and nothing was happening. I could barely hold myself up on all fours when I felt a hard slap on my ass. Through bleary eyes I turned around. We were already home and now the sun was starting to peak out. "Get up, lazy bones." Dad had parked in the drive way and hadn't backed in. There wasn't anyone out yet but it wouldn't be like before morning joggers and little old ladies come out to pull in the newspaper. I had spaced out for the entire ride back to the house and Dad's spanking had startled me. I jumped out the back of the truck quickly, wearing only my dog collar and the smudged words my mom had written on me. "Hello Mr. Pewterschmidt," Chris waved at our neighbor. "Hey, nice to see you." He was getting in his little red sports car as he called back to us. "Say hello, Sis." Chris nudged me with his elbow. I turned to face him completely naked, "Hello Mr. Pewterschmidt." I waved. He had apparently fucked my mom this weekend and knew all about our situation so it didn't surprise him. Instead, he just looked down his dark Raybans at me and said, "You guys are still playing your game, that's great. I'd stay but I've got to jet." with that he pulled out of the driveway as if this was merely something mildly amusing – which I am sure to him it was. Crises averted and now after the guys got me with one final humiliation I could crawl into the backyard and crash out for a while. "Hello Mrs. Waxerman, it's nice to see you this morning." Chris said and I whipped my head around my shoulder, this was going to be a whole new level of weird on top of everything else! "Hahah, you nearly pissed yourself!!" Chris was doubling over in laughing. He had just been fucking with my head. Dad was tired and he was being somber and quiet while Chris had his laugh. "Chain your sister out on the lawn and make sure there is enough food for her and Roscoe, then get yourself ready for school, okay?" "Yes Sir, boss-man." Chris answered sarcastically. "It's not like that Chris, I am just tired and want to lay in my cushy bed, it was a rough night. You know we are partners." When we got inside Chris ordered me to heel, and I dutifully got down on all fours and walked behind him into the backyard where he chained my collar to Roscoe's dog house. He set out dry dog food and clean water, and then slapped me on the ass playfully. "You are lucky you aren't in school, lot of big exams next week." I had to smile at the subtlety of his joke about how I would prefer being left outside tied up like a dog to the grueling nature of studying and exams. Then again, maybe my brother wasn't joking. "I am going to cuff your hands behind your back, so you don't get any ideas about playing with your pussy or anything." "Naturally, Sir." I gave him that lemony smile to indicate I knew it was to make me uncomfortable and he was just having his fun at my expense. He clicked the cuffs behind my back and now I could only awkwardly remain on my knees with only my chin and my tits hitting the ground. "Stay just like that, don't sit up, and don't lay flat unless it's curled up in a ball –remember, you are a dog now." "Woof, Woof" I said slowly as if sarcastically acknowledging the way he was leaving me, while he walked back in through the sliding glass door. Chris turned back around and walked out to me. Had I stepped across the line? He took Roscoe's rubber bone and put it in my mouth "Good doggy" he patted me on the head and said, "This better be in here when I get home." He left me out there with my thoughts and got himself ready for another day of school. I was done with the popularity games, the extra-curricular, the rushing from class to class at least for a while. I wasn't sure what life would be like when I got back to school, but it would never be the same again – of that I could be certain. I was starting to drift to sleep on that thought when I felt a nuzzle from Roscoe. That was cute, he wanted to snuggle with me and keep me warm. What a good doggy – it was nice that he could be a comfort. My thoughts shifted back to how hard my mom was going to have it. I know how I am and I would feel even more guilty if my mom gets punished without me, so I made a mental note to tell my dad that ... what is this? "Roscoe No." I thought to myself at first because I was shocked his nuzzling had turned into licking. He licked the sweat and (everything else) off us from yesterday, once I realized it was happening again I just accepted it. He didn't know any better and dogs love to sniff asses. He was licking and sniffing mine and I was too tired and too worn out to really do more than wiggle it in defiance - which he took as a playful invitation to continue. I would have to learn to grin and bear it, and honestly he wasn't as skilled as mom with his tongue but it was broad and just a little bit prickly and wet and it felt good. There were worse ways to fall asleep. There are however not many worse ways to wake up. The first thing I heard were the 'Pooper Snooper' Waxerman boys laughing and egging me on from above the fence. They were no longer so shy they would hide behind the fence and just talk to me, but they were not coming in the yard either. Instead, I saw their grinning faces popping over the edge of the wooden fence and laughing at me. This didn't surprise me at first because they've seen me in a lot of humiliating situations and laughed every time. My first clue there was more to this was how intensely they were laughing. I still had the dog bone in my mouth as I raised myself up. I knew I had fallen asleep on my nose and it was probably red but there had to be more than that to make them laugh that hard. I didn't feel it at first, but there it was. The prickly feel of a cold, wet little nose? No finger? No it was Roscoe's dick like a red lipstick that had risen out of its case and it was pressing against my inner thigh. Roscoe was on my back and he was desperately humping me while I had been asleep to the delight of the Waxerman boys. I shook my head no at them. They had seen me getting switched, get an enema, they had all fucked me, but this was a new disgusting low and as I wiggled my ass to shake Roscoe he only took this as a cue that I was encouraging him. "What are you boys doing on my lawn?" My dad's voice was like a thunderbolt shooting through me as it emerged from behind me. The Waxerman boys disappeared like rabbits down their hole as soon as they heard it. My dad chuckled after they were gone. "Reminds me of when I was a kid, one summer I remember seeing my babysitter sunbathing in her backyard. I was never sure if she did it every day at the same time because she knew I was watching or not." He said in a voice like he was remembering the heady days of his youth with awe. I grunted into the rubber bone for dad to help get Roscoe off of me now. He wasn't inside me but he was fucking reasonably close enough that I could feel the slimy wetness of his cock on what my Science teacher might have called 'The Femoral Triangle', and what Chris would call the 'Crotch-Bone'. "Yeah, of course you do." Dad answered my muffled murmurs as if he understood me, laughed to himself and shuffled back in the house wearing his robe and drinking a cup of coffee. "It sucks making your own coffee in the morning, but the things I do to accommodate you two." He chuckled to himself as he was bemused by seeing Roscoe go to town on my rump in my helpless state. I admit it probably did look pretty funny at first glance – but Dad c'mon, shoo Roscoe off like you did the Waxerman boys!! (PLEASE?) – no luck. I could hear him start up the computer from inside the house as the familiar windows startup sound played I realized Dad knew Roscoe was humping me and thought it was funny. Suddenly, a thought flashed across my mind – It is not one I am proud to admit. I could have imagined myself in my 'happy place' where I go when awful things happen to me. I could imagine myself trading places with Chris and dutifully studying for my exams or Dad and I'd be working on the computer. Of all the places I could go in my mind, I just wished I could trade places with mom strung up spread-eagle back at the motel. Having felt so bad to leave her out there, I now suddenly would gladly trade places with my mom if my dog would stop humping me and coming so close to my pussy! It was really driving me bonkers and remember when I said I had sunk to a new form of depravity at the start of the chapter? Well, I just went one more notch further than that. All the wishing in the world wouldn't change one thing though – this was just the start to my day and Roscoe was horny as hell once he started humping. ------- Chapter 25: Wendy's Journal: Kiss the Frog Note to reader: This is Wendy's journal from Wednesday approximately 9am. She finds herself tied up behind the Cabana she worked in the night before. In order to increase readability, some of the dialogue exchanged was altered to appear in a 'narrative' story format. CASH EARNINGS WEDNESDAY WENDY: $0 JAMIE: $0 I don't remember falling asleep last night. I waited a long time for the guys to come back with a smile and say 'Only kidding' and take me down but another part of me knew they were headed home and leaving me naked, vulnerable and tied up to the back of a motel was fair-game. I've been tied to a tree in the woods once before. I thought because it was in some trees in my neighborhood there was a good chance I'd be discovered. Tied up here to the back of my cabana at Rhajid's hotel, I am not sure if I am more afraid of someone ravishing me or just making me explain why I am out there. I've been ravished many times in the past week and I am starting to get used to the idea – too used to it? Last night was like a foggy dream, did I really do a two-some to fuck Buford with my daughter and then flaunt all the rules like I didn't care if I got punished or not? What was I thinking? Was I drunk on some kind of 'bad-idea' pill? Some times when I think about when I was the disciplinarian and I had the guys answering to me, if I wasn't drunk on power and bad ideas. I can't really go back and explain why I got so carried away and made them masturbate into a mason jar in front of me. At the time it seemed like a good idea and that I had the right to make them do that, but now I am waking up hot, dirty and groggily opening my eyes to a new day with the sun shining right into my eyes. I can't move my arms or my legs, I am totally tethered in place to the wall – I fell asleep in this position spread eagle. I know I would be very sore when I was finally untied but I must have been getting used to it on some level. As I gathered my wits, it dawned on me that my clit ring felt heavier than usual – like a lead weight pulling down and stimulating me. I imagined one of those sinkers my father used to have to attach to his fishing pole hanging off of the clit ring and dangling as my eyes flickered open from the deep sleep. Then I looked down and saw a young black kid no older than one of the Waxerman boys hanging from me. He was peeling back my pussy lips and just pulling down with both hands and sort of using me to support his weight. "Oh Good, you awake! She aint Dead!" he announced to one of his friends in a striped shirt who was playing in the dirt nearby. My eyes were WIDE open – let me tell you! I had gone from groggy and wishing I had coffee to 'OH SHIT!' in under 10 seconds. I was still gagged and try as I might to spit it out, I couldn't force out the nasty cloth with my tongue because it was so well wadded up in my mouth. I wanted to scream but I could only mumble. "She aint mad I is doing this, I told you!" the boy said over his shoulder to his friend while leaning back and letting his fingers pull on my lips. I didn't know how long he had been doing this but it was obvious he had become more than familiar with my anatomy. "You got some big titties, lady." His voice was scratchy and he reminded me of a young Michael Jackson from back when he sang "Let me see you shake a tail feather..." oh, what was that song? I tried to think of anything besides the fact I was completely helpless to the whims of this young teenage boy and I can't even beg him to stop PULLING MY PUSSY OFF! I shook my head no and pleaded with my eyes but he just chuckled, gave a final yank to my labia like it was an uddder and let go to run to his friend. I could see that there were a few Cabanas right behind the ones in the front – and if it were possible these looked even worse than the ones facing the highway because these didn't have a fresh coat of cheap yellow paint on them. They were weathered and well lived in. I tried in vain to wriggle my hands out of the plastic ties while he ran over to his friend who was digging in the dirt to talk to him. Even though it was me who was their captive they didn't expect to find me out here, I felt ashamed and embarrassed like it was my fault that I was showing my entire business to them like this. It dawned on me if they live behind a motel filled with prostitutes, beggars, drunks and addicts that to them this might not seem all that unusual. They don't live behind Cherry Lawn's guarded gate in the suburbs where it would occur to most people to call the law when you see something like this. "C'mon let's play helicopter!" I worked out his name was Dante' as he tried to get his friend to stop digging. "No man, I am digging for buried gold." Tiontay his friend stubbornly refused while sitting in the dirt playing and ignoring me. "Shit, their aint no gold down there!" Dante' declared. "Dadday friend lost they gold tooth on yesterday, when Dadday knocked it out of him, it round here!" Tiontay declared pragmatically. "Well, I help you find it, if you play helicopter," Dante offered and the two stood up and dusted themselves off and walked back over to me like I was their personal pinyata plaything while I shook my head no. "Oh hush, Helicopter don't say nothing, unless you can make helicopta sounds?" I shook my head emphatically yes hoping they would take out the gag. Dante who was fairly tall for his age reached up and pulled out my gag and threw it in the dirt. "Pfffet." I spit out the taste of filth and lint in my mouth and thanked him. "Shaddap, Helicopter don't say nothing til I start it up," I was clearly breaking the rules of pretend that he held dear and for some reason I was quiet even though I should have been yelling for help. I had no idea what time it was, but if Bill had said he would call Rahjid when he woke up it was very possible Rahjid had no idea I was even back here. I felt Dante's fingers grip my pussy lips again and start to pull and twist – leaning back so that he was putting all his weight on them. I let out a surprised yelp and then Tiontay started turning my nipples "I am starting up the propellers but the engine not comin on." "Engine!!" Dante addressed me by looking me in the eye "Come on!!" he demanded. I don't know why but I felt compelled to make the motorboat sound of an engine with my lips – which pleased them greatly. Dante started to spin himself while stretching my pussy lips as hard as he could and Tiontay stood back after he felt my propellers were engaged. "Make them propeller spin, lady!" Tiontay demanded once he let go of my boobs and while I have no reasonable explanation for why I complied, I started to shake my tits so that my nipple ring spun. I am sure it looked positively obscene – I am disgusted with myself for even writing that I didn't refuse to participate. I felt in part I had very little choice in the matter, but also I think if it hadn't been happening to ME, I might have found the spectacle perversely humorous. "You making the engine sound like you fartin out 'yo butt, don't go Fppppppppppptthh, go more like Vmmmmmmmmmm, and then change gear for me to speed up, like Vmmmmmm ... VMMMMMMMMM" Dante instructed and he tugged harder on my pussy and spun himself around when I changed the way I was making the engine noise to appeal to him. The sun was directly in my eyes, and I was already sweating from the heat and feeling disgusted. This little performance was only adding to my anguish and on top of it I felt myself getting wet. A lot of men I've been with think my getting wet is an orgasm but it's just my brain thinking I may need to use my pussy and its letting the pussy know to lube up. "You peeing on my fingers?" Dante' abruptly stopped the helicopter game and I abruptly stopped shimmying my boobs letting them jingle jangle to a stop and making the engine sound for his copter. "No Sir," I felt silly calling him sir but I had grown so used to it that it was involuntary – I just did it. I was naked and he was feeling me up but a part of me felt like I couldn't explain that he had accidentally made me wet – I just could not. "So what dis is?" he held up his sticky finger for me to see as if he were disappointed in me. "You really shouldn't play with me there, Sir um, do you mind getting Rahjid and letting him know I am back here please uh Sir?" I stumbled through my words. My throat was dry and raspy and my voice cracked. I can chalk up saying Sir once to habit but now it was more since I did it once it made sense to stick with it. "She pee-pee on yo finger?" Tiontay was chuckling when I noticed him scratch his forehead with the shovel – my passport. He had been digging with my shiny silvered butt plug and my first thought was – my back was against the wall, how did he get it out? My second was 'Oh my god, the guys paid a lot for the matching set; they are going to crucifix me if the boys run off with it!" "That's mine, how did you get that, Sir?" I tried to sound calm but my works trickled out of my mouth in a huff. "Dis aint yours, dis is mine. I don't know where yours is!" Tiontay said without a hint of guilt on his face that he knew it was mine. "Boy, quit lying!" Dante' demanded of his friend. "I aint lying!" Tiontay replied. "You is, you got that out of her dookie hole, you know you did." Dante' said sternly and his friend made a 'shick' sound by sucking his teeth incredulously as if he gave up on further discussion about it. "I am tied up against the wall, how did you um?" At first I thought I might find a way to untie myself if I asked this question but as I was in the middle of asking the question that I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer. "I slid around behind you because Dante' dared me to kiss your butt!" Tiontay admitted eagerly. "Did not!" Dante' declared. "Did too!" Tiontay said emphatically. "And you did too, you kissed that white lady right on the butt." Dante' smiled cleverly as if he had just tricked his friend into admitting something he shouldn't have which was followed by another 'shick' and an incredulous stare from Tiontay. "I can't get down from here by myself, you two don't feel a little guilty about seeing me like this and touching me?" I thought maybe I would reason with them. "Do you feel guilty about pissing on my fingers?" Dante' asked in reply to my question. I was about to reply to that in the same calm tone when I felt the hot spray of piss on my chest and tits and the two boys started giggling. "Dante' you nasty!" his friend said and then I heard a woman call them in the distance. "We got to go!" the spray of piss stopped abruptly and I could open my eyes again. "Wait, please leave that um..." and before I could decide whether to call it a shovel or a plug the two boys were gone leaving me dripping of piss, humiliated and alone. The quiet of the little row of three houses behind the motel was unsettling now. Time passed very slowly and I had time to reflect on what had just happened and why I did some of the things I did. Journal, by now you know that I am a woman who has 1,000 scenarios going in her head at all times and I am always reading between the lines – and you probably read between my lines at times too. I stopped trying to second guess myself on how I had behaved – both with those boys and what led to my punishment of being tied to the motel wall. I wasn't even sure if this WAS punishment – was I just being shelved here until I could be punished for everything I did wrong? With so much time, I made a mental recap of the things I had better own up to when I see Rahjid; I was not going to tell him I encouraged my daughter to over-charge Buford. I remember Bill had pocketed most of it and good for us that he did. However, my daughter is a truth-whore and she is going to want to be honest about that, so I'd have to think more about what to say there. I was going to tell him that we took too long to finish Buford, and say that it was me who tempted my daughter to do that. I was going to admit that we didn't fill the condoms until the end and only I did that. I wasn't sure if that means Jamie gets in trouble because of it, but she wouldn't want me to lie I think. I was going to admit we took out our butt-plugs on our own: we didn't clean them right away and set them on the bed, and put them in ourselves since I am pretty sure Jamie is going to tell on us about that. I didn't even think about it last night when I was being grilled by Bill and Chris. I need to beg Rahjid to punish me good today and maybe get him to even video tape (you know I am from the past generation, because I don't say just record it) or else I am positive Bill will get irate and probably want to punish Jamie too when she gets here to work night shift. I wondered if maybe I needed to admit to Rahjid how I handled those boys, was I in the wrong? Could I be punished for them taking my butt plug? Jamie has this theory that we should just admit what we did and let them decide it if it was wrong or right, but I feel like they can twist anything so it sounds like it's my fault – no matter the best of intentions. Then I started to think about the 'best of intentions' when I issued the "Taylor Women Declaration of Independence" and started with just trying to send a wakeup call to Bill and Chris that they needed to clean up, get more fit and take their responsibilities seriously – look how that turned out? I looked around the quiet little row of houses and down at my bare breasts hanging underneath me. The surgery had made them perky like two inflatable balls that are always on point, and now I was truly paying the price for that too. I had walked tall and proud after I got them and thought they helped my career, but what they really helped was my vanity and I should have spent that surgery money on family vacation and trips. Now they are flapping in the breeze, dripping with some kids piss, in part because I was too ashamed to tell him he had made me wet earlier. He already had his finger in my pie-hole, was I really going to 'corrupt' him by telling him what that was doing to me? I didn't even want to think about the other one sliding up behind me and planting a smooch on my caboose only to find what he thought was a shovel. Was he really that naïve or did he just have no other frame of reference for what a butt plug was? These boys had to be fairly street smart growing up here behind Rahjid's motel. God damn, I wish someone would come along. Anyone at all! I'd even be glad to see Mrs. Waxerman right now. The quiet in this neighborhood, as the wind whistles through my legs and air dries the piss to my chest, is weirding me out. Do I wish someone would come along? What are the chances they are going to help me get down from here? And if they do, will it not be because they expect me to debase and humiliate myself a little more? You see I told you journal, I am constantly asking myself questions and playing devil's advocate as I try to process what to do next. I have tried my hardest to be a good little submissive and not hold a thought in my head at times, but I keep going back to my analytical nature and over-thinking things. "I told you she wuz here." I don't know long it had been but I heard Dante's familiar squeaky voice coming down the dusty little row between Cabanas. "Hello Sir," I was actually pleased anyone had come. It had felt like hours against the wall, my muscles ached and I felt totally rank and disgusting. "She call you Sir, fo?" a black girl with her hair in tightly braided pig-tails who stood taller than the two of them asked. "As a sign of respect, Ma'am -I guess it is something I am trying to get used to doing." I addressed her as she walked slowly into my field of vision. She was wearing a long pink night gown and nothing else while looking up at me with her deep brown eyes as if I were an alien who just crash-landed. "You is so nasty, to be out here naked like dis" she finally said as if giving her verdict on me. "You are absolutely right and I really have no excuse, will you tell Rahjid I am back here, because he may have some clothes for me?" "He is nasty too and I aint yo' errand bitch!" she sounded a lot more streetwise just then when she said that from her initial reaction to me. "Okay, that is fair, it's just if you don't want me hanging around out here like this, I cannot get down on my own, Ma'am" I decided to try calm reasoned logic once again. "Aint my biznass what you do," she had a definite Ayn Rand kind of vision of life of survival of the fittest and look out for your own self. I suppose she would, growing up out here in this urban squalor every day. "You didn't say she be so old," okay I admit when she said that to her brother it slammed right through me like a painful insult. The sides of my mouth curled up into a wintry smile and I just sort of nodded that 'yes, I am old' - to someone their age, 40 probably seems like 80. "Sis, You wanna to see her pee on my finger, Do ya?" Dante' offered the girl a chance to see as if he was showing off his new Christmas present. He grabbed my clit and lifted the hood with his finger and then separated my lips pulling them both apart and tugging. "That is so NAASTY!" I was not sure what her name was, but her favorite word seemed to be "Nasty" there was no mistaking that. "See, look how she pees on my finger when I do the helicopter," He held up his finger right under his sister's nose. "Get that nasty away from me, Dante'. That aint piss, boy that is her woman juice, don't you know anything?" Nasty said condescendingly to him. "Him and Trudi Cummings did it under a bridge one time," his friend Tiontay said in that same tone of voice the Waxerman boys use when they want to embarrass each other by telling a secret. "Did not," Dante' replied. "You did too" Tiontay said and it was Dante's turn to make the 'shick-aw' sound with his mouth and in his silence end the exchange. "So what woman juice is then?" Dante' asked his sister. "Boy, I aint telling you if you don't know," Nasty rolled her eyes and shrugged her shoulders like she knew something he didn't and she simply wasn't going to tell him. "What woman juice is?" Dante' turned to me when his sister wasn't talking and I suddenly felt the weight of their stares on me and a sudden warmth of embarrassment. I had learned to accept these questions in front of Mrs. Waxerman and her nephews but it had been a slow progression where I grew to accept the way things were. This was a fresh coat of humiliation because I really didn't want to explain more than he was ready to know – but then again he had just played with my pussy. "Are you sure you really want to know, Sir?" I felt so vulnerable, but tied as I was, with my arms to the side, I felt like a wall clock that could talk – a naked, big titted wall clock. "Yah, why you think he ask?" Tiontay answered for him with a chuckle of disbelief I could be dumb enough to want to ask that question. It was also pretty clear he was waiting for my answer too. "When you pull on my pussy lips like that, it made me wet." I tried to put it delicately but the boys were not understanding what I was saying. "She say it like when you walk around with your boner all nasty, it be like that for girls too, but on the inside- You feel me?" I gave Nasty a look of thanks when she explained in terms they would understand. "So you like when I play helicopter?" Dante' asked immediately understanding his sister's explanation. "Actually, no I don't sir" I am sure my facial expression was telling him that should be obvious when I said it but if he had any remorse about doing something I didn't like – it didn't register on his face in the least. "So then why you come out here naked then?" Tiontay asked in a way that made me wonder if he just assumed I had tied myself up to the motel wall in the hopes someone would play helicopter with me. I resisted the urge to give a sarcastic reply – I guess those submissive lessons really do pay off. "I don't know if you would understand if I explained it to you why I am out here, Sir" I smiled politely to Tiontay. "I know why," Nasty put her hands on her hip to emphasize each of the next three words she said. "SHE" "BE" "NASTY!" "Yes, I guess I am nasty, you are right about that Ma'am" I politely answered the girl. "So this like that man at the bus stop who kept opening his coat and showing his weiner to everybody?" Tiontay asked Nasty. "Oh that was SOOO NASTY, I told that old man," Nasty looked up while recalling exactly what she said "I don't want to see your old nasty weiner, put that thing a way." "Why you want to be on that wall like that then?" Dante' asked with a confused expression. "I don't want to be up on that, I mean on this wall Sir." I answered politely. I could see he was staring intently at my nipples and there was nothing I could do to stop him. "Then when you is?" Dante's grammar was frustrating but I understood what he meant – I just once again felt more embarrassed about revealing the truth than I did about him staring at my bare nipples. I had to quickly decide if I wanted a plausible lie or to be honest with them (as painful as that might be). I didn't have Jamie there to give me that look with those impossible blue eyes of hers as my conscious but at the same time I couldn't think of a good lie. "I am being punished, see?" I wiggled my wrists to emphasize the plastic ties were holding my arms above my head. "I couldn't have tied myself up this way." "Who is did this to you?" Tiontay asked with a slight look of concern registering on his face. "Who did THIS to me?" I corrected his English out of habit and to give myself time to think if I could come up with a better plausible explanation yet. My brain still couldn't think of one so I went with the truth. "I well, my husband did last night." "What did you do wrong?" Dante' actually looked like he had some respect for me. I had the feeling he was often up to mischief and the fact that I got punished too probably made me seem like a kindred spirit. "Oh gosh, well like I say," I started to feel I had backed myself into an embarrassing corner of admission. "Oh gosh, well like I am white" Tiontay imitated an exaggerated white person's accent and the other two giggled. "Okay, Okay, I know I sound corny," I actually relaxed a little and laughed along with them. "What dis is?" Dante' had been staring at my tits and he reached out and dabbed them with his finger to reveal a little bit of my breast milk. "That is more of your women juice?" "You don't know nothing about wome, dat's Enfamil!" Nasty declared angrily. "Actually, you are close, Enfamil is powdered baby formula. This is actual breast milk, I guess I am leaking, Sorry about that." "So you had a baby recently?" Dante licked his finger and made a face. I had to choke back a laugh. "No Sir, it's hard to explain," once again I tried to avoid giving him an answer about how I came to lactate so frequently and why I just realized my nipples felt like they were going to explode if they didn't get pumped. "Where you huzband is?" Dante asked while holding his scratching himself. "Dante' you so nasty scratching your balls like that" Nasty chided her brother only to hear him give a dismissive 'shickaw' sound with his mouth in response. "Well, I think he is at home Sir" I offered an answer to his question. "Where you live at?" Dante asked, daring to dab his finger on my nipple again and pull back a drop of the milky liquid. He looked at it and then shook it off his finger instead of tasting it this time. "I normally live in Cherry Lawn," there was a look on their faces that suddenly I was an outsider again. Everybody in town knew Cherry Lawn was a hoighty-toighty country club style community. "However, it looks like I am living in the Cabana behind me for a while." They nodded with appreciation – I wasn't 'one of them' but the fact I lived here seemed to please them. "You have any kids our age?" Tiontay asked. He was a little more shy and he was stealing glances at my chest more than staring at them. "You can look at them if you want to Tiontay, they won't bite, I promise" I said plainly and he smiled at me and looked up at my dangling boobs. "I have a daughter and a son who are a little older than you, why do you ask, Sir?" "Someone new to play with." Tiontay sounded very lonely in how he answered me. "Where is they?" he asked. "Well, my son is in high school I am guessing, and my daughter is probably in the backyard at our place in Cherry Lawn?" "They know you are out here like this?" Tiontay asked feeling bolder about getting a look at my tits. They were just hanging there like watermelons ripe and ready to be picked, I didn't feel so bad telling him not to feel embarrassed to look - he had seen them anyway. "Yes they know," I wanted to sigh – they were going to drag the story out of me, one humiliating revelation at a time weren't they? "Who wrote these nasty words on you?" Nasty squinted to read the smudged words across my chest. "Axe me about the Candy titty bitch who wuz on the honor what?" "Honor roll, Ma'am" I offered with a bit of a smile. "You don't think I know what is the honor roll?" Nasty asked defiantly. I wanted to say "Well when you use grammar like that," but I was in no position to be sarcastic and I apologized to her. "Candy?" Tiontays eyes lit up. "Oh, that was a joke between my daughter and I." I realized right after I said that I raised more questions than I answered with that last explanation. "She wrote that on me last night, you see, but she was talking about herself." "Because her titties taste like candy?" Dante' looked at my seeping and heaving breasts skeptically. "Well, because her nipples probably look like chewy candy to some people I guess, I really don't know what she meant by that Sir" "You just let your daughter write all over you?" his sister asked me accusingly. "I know THAT is nasty, right?" I smiled and the boys both laughed impishly at the subtle joke but if she got it – she didn't laugh. It was obvious she wanted an answer to her question so I added "Well, if you think these are bad you should see what I wrote on her back, Ma'am!" "How come your titties stick straight out like that?" Tiontay had become bored with the line of questioning and had one of his own. "I have implants, so they always sort of set out prominently and hang like this on my chest no matter how old I get, Sir" I answered him plainly. "Can I touch 'em?" he asked while Nasty's expression became even more dissaproving. "When you played helicopter, you were honking them and treating them like an ignition switch, Sir." - My voice rising at the end more like a question than an observation. He made a (Shickaw) sound with his mouth as if he were dismissing that and he added "That was before we knew you was a person. I will give you a licorice for if you let me to touch them." "Boy, you better not give this white lady MY licorice," Nasty put her hands on her hips defiantly. I was sweating and hungry but this spunky little girl in this frilly, nearly see-thru pink nightgown made me laugh. It might not have been quite so sheer if her skin wasn't black as midnight, but I could see almost as much of her in silhouette as she could of me in the daylight sun. It just dawned on me by squinting up into the sky that the sun was not even directly overhead and it was probably only 9 or 10am. Time really was going slow out here. When I finally looked back down at them it was obvious that Tiontay was awaiting my reply to his question and he and Nasty had reached some conclusion about the licorice. I have to be honest when I say that I would have rathered he just touch my tits than to give him permission – there was something deeply perverted about saying he could do it. "Actually, I think I might get punished if I were to eat without permission Tiontay, but I thank you for the generous offer." I dodged his question diplomatically and that made me feel pretty good about myself taking the moral high road. This is of course despite the fact that I was naked with prominent nipple and clit rings in front of three kids with all sorts of nasty writing on my body and one of them was holding my butt plug as if he thought it was a shovel. "Why you aint got no hair down there on you Vajay-jay?" Tiontay didn't dwell on the fact I hadn't answered his question if he could touch my boobs or not before moving on to a new object of curiosity to him. "Boy, you so nastay!" Nasty said predictably "Why you think she aint got no hair there?" "I don't know," Tiontay answered with a dead pan curiosity. "She white, aint you never seen no playboys? Everybody knows white girls don't have no hair on they vajay-jay." Nasty said quite matter of factly. "Actually, that's not true, Ma'am. I have to shave every day," I volunteered with a chuckle at the misconception. "When I was young it was actually only really slutty girls who shaved like this, but now it is very common for my daughter's generation." I told her. "So then why you bald as a baby butt down there?" Nasty flapped her rather full lips as if she were shocked she was wrong about something. "I've actually been trying to avoid telling you my situation, because I think you would find it a little offensive" I admitted politely while side-stepping her question again. I know it is a defense mechanism of mine to hold information close to my chest but these were just kids – admittedly street smart kids. Despite them seeing everything on my body, there were things I was still holding back. To be frank, I could say that if you read between the lines here dear journal I couldn't tell you if censoring myself was for their benefit or because I was suddenly more embarrassed than ever to admit to them or myself the humiliating way I've been living the last few weeks. Naturally, by telling them I was keeping some sort of secret this only made them more curious and they prodded me to answer – even offering me a piece of the licorice again. "Well, you see I am basically a slave." I blurted out. There was stunned silence. "Do you know what that is?" I asked them as I scanned their faces unable to discern their expressions. "Did you pick cotton?" Dante' asked me. "No and that is why I was afraid to tell you, I thought it might seem extremely racist of me." I admitted. "All white people is racist," Nasty said narrowing her eyes at me sharply – almost challenging me to dispute it. I wanted to tell her that a generalization about all people of a race is itself racist but I figured it would be lost of her. "I am not that kind of slave, that your people were and I apologize for even using that term. It is just that well I don't have any other way to explain why I am doing what I am told." I waited for them to slowly nod and Tiontay bless his heart started to put his mouth on my 'passport plug' absent-mindedly. "I wouldn't put that in your mouth, Sir." I warned him with a chuckle. He took it out before Nasty could chide him over it. "It clean, I washed since I been digging wiff it." "Well, I wear that plug you are holding, and I shave my," I realized I was supposed to say 'cunt' but I cleverly went with "'pubic hair' because I agreed to let my son and husband be the boss of me – be their slave" "Why?" Nasty asked immediately drawing out her pronunciation of the word to match her level of curiosity. "Good question, Ma'am." I stalled for a moment to consider my next words carefully. I didn't want to come off as a villain here but it was wrong to play the victim and get sympathy as well. I had after all done some very bad things to get into this situation. "My daughter and I kicked out my husband and son and they had to stay here at Rahjid's motel," I started to explain. "Dat is bad, dis place got roaches!" Tiontay declared. "Yes, well that is not the worst part of it, Sir." I chuckled at how cute and innocent his eyes could be. "When my husband and son came back home, my daughter and I humiliated them, treated them like servants, and made them do whatever I say" "Dante' and Tiontay do that to me every single day!" Nasty nodded at my story in appreciation of being there too. "We does not, you boss us around all the time!" Dante' fired back. "I do not, now shut up so the white lady can finish her story," Nasty ordered her brother to be quiet without the slightest awareness of how right her brother seemed to be. "Well, when I came to my senses I felt really guilty about what I had done and what I had encouraged my daughter to do to run the guys through the ringer. We decided to let them get payback on us, we would be their slaves for a while and they could make the rules for us." I was doing well up to this point in my explanation when I added "One of those rules is to keep my cunt completely hairless." I saw Nasty cover her mouth and the other three when they heard 'cunt' reacted as if what I said was poison gas. It was too late to backtrack and say 'pubic hair' now so I continued with the story. "I am so sorry, I know that is a dirty word. Unfortunately, another of the rules is that I have to call it that and I guess I got so used to it that it just slipped out." I expected Nasty to tell me how Nasty I was but instead she just asked "Why?" again. "I think because they know nice polite girls don't say that and they wanted us to realize what we did was not nice or polite, Ma'am" That wasn't my most descriptive affirmation but it felt humbling just saying it out loud to them. "So you daughter is also slave?" Nasty was starting to get the picture. "Yes Ma'am, she'll be here later tonight. She got to go home because she was better behaved than me." I admitted feeling a little better that they weren't shell-shocked by my admission of guilt. "One of you gonna be out here tomorrow?" Tiontay asked with a tone of voice that implied loneliness on his part. "I don't want to sound rude, but I hope not Sir. I am surprised no other adult has come out to inquire why I am up here or call the law or something." "Po-Po don't like to come around this neighborhood," Dante' said with certainty before adding "And Mama and dem are sleep – aint nobody up this time of day but us." "I thought she called you earlier?" I asked. "Yeah, den she go back to sleep!" Dante' answered as if that were perfectly normal and expected. I am learning that people live a far different life outside of the suburb than most of the people I know and not to be surprised by just about anything. "Will you kiss my frog?" Tiontay said out of the blue. The other two kids laughed in derision. "I don't know, will he turn into a prince charming and get Rahjid?" I playfully replied. "No, I don't think he will." Tiontay answered naively while holding up a gorgeous little tree frog that he seemed to pull from his pocket. It wasn't like one of those warty green bullfrogs; it was lean and sleek and seemed to almost shine from the oil on its skin. "Meh, I've kissed worse," I joked and let him put the little sucker right up to my mouth. I gave it a playful smooch. "You so nasty! You kissed Tiontay's frog that has been in his underwear!! OOOOO!!" Nasty's voice carried the universal 'I am telllling' tone that girls her age have been using since I was a girl. "I am Nasty, that is probably why my husband saw fit to tie me up to this wall" I looked at the faded paint and dirty molded wood paneling that I was pressed up against while finally starting to accept I would be here at least all afternoon. "And your Son!" Tiontay corrected. "Yes Sir and my Son," I agreed adding "and I will probably be punished as well because they will think I spit out my gag, and because you have my passport." I said with just a touch too much stress in my voice as it began to dawn on me just how fucked I probably was. "You want me to put that cloth on the ground back in you mouth?" Tiontay's attitude towards me was even more benevolent now that I had kissed his frog. I did not really think any of his little dare – it was just one of many awkward moments we had shared. I know in his mind he had a frog in his pocket and he was curious if I would kiss it and he probably had not thought to much further than testing that hypothesis as to why. "I shouldn't ask you to do that, but when we get done talking, would you be kind enough to leave my passport? That silver shovel you are holding, Sir?" I smiled at him while sweat beaded now my nose. I am deeply tan so at least I wasn't going to get a sunburn from the heat. "I told you it was a shovel," Tiontay held the chromed butt plug in his hand feeling completely validated. "It is a nasty toy, shaped like a wiener that goes in women's vajay-jays!" Nasty insisted. "Nuh-uh, this aint like no wiener I've ever seen" Tiontay was right – it was smooth and shaped more like a long bullet. "Plus I found it in her dooky-hole!!" Tiontay admitted. I thought Nasty was going to have a conniption fit but she just ignored him and made that familiar 'shuck-caw' sound they all made when they were done talking about something. "That is why it won't do any good for you to put the gag back in, when he sees the passport is gone or sitting on the ground, I am going to get punished anyway for that Sir." I made a mental note that my daughter is far more black and white than me when it comes to justice and would have opted to at least have the gag in when Rahjid finally came around the corner. "I can put it back in," Tiontay wasted no time crawling under my legs and worming his way behind me to emerge behind my ass. "Please don't Tiontay," was what I should have said. Let me repeat that in case you didn't get that the first time. "Please don't Tiontay," was what I should have said. Instead I said "Thank you, I really appreciate this. Would you mind putting it in my mouth first so I can get the tip wet please Sir?" without a second thought – and he reached around me from behind to my open mouth and let me suck on my passport plug. I opened my mouth with a pop about the time I was having second thoughts about this but it was too late. He pulled my ass cheeks apart and rammed the plug in without any awareness of the fact that my asshole was far tighter and smaller than the tip of that plug. My eyes must have widened tremendously and my expression changed to shock because both Nasty and Dante' were laughing as they stared up at my face. "Oh my God," I heard myself say as I started to wiggle my hips in semi-circles on to the plug for him. "Please just a little more gentle, and push it all the way in Sir?" I was already a quarter of the way plugged- he may as well finish the job. "You keep that thing up your dooky hole all the time?" Dante' asked skeptically and added "How do you poop?" "With very few exceptions Sir," I started to feel like Mrs. Jane trying to explain billiards to the Clampets. This whole thing seemed completely unnecessary to them and I would have sounded silly switching how I spoke from my typical English Teacher tone of voice to their slang. "What are the accept-shuns?" Dante' struggled with the word while his friend gave the butt plug a final twist, patted me on the round of my ass cheek and ducked back under my legs to face me again. "The only two are when I am having sex, or when I am given permission to poop Sir," I admitted truthfully – which seemed to blow their collective minds. "What it say on your butt?" Tiontay asked. "I thought you were going to put my gag back in Sir?" I was feeling butterflies in my stomach from admitting this much and admittedly I was actually very turned on by the reaming I had just got from the passport in a twisted kind of way. I thought it might be best if I were gagged before I said something I regretted. I replied "It says Whore, the O is kind of hidden" I winked but he didn't seem to get it. "She mean it around her dooky hole, like a big O" Nasty explained loudly as if it should be obvious what I was inferring. She even turned around and faced her own fairly well rounded ass towards him and on the outside of her night gown made the "OK" hand gesture right where her asshole would be to approximate my red O. "Thank you, Ma'am" I volunteered before realizing that my nipples were now dripping down my chest and hard as a rock. I could feel myself getting wet and aroused. Both of my legs were bound more than shoulder width apart and I could already feel my pussy starting to drip and throb. "Your boobies are leaking big time, does that hurt?" Tiontay asked naively as my breast milk leaked out of my suddenly rock hard nipples. I didn't think I could get turned on by anal sex but the sudden stimulation had caused vibrations deep down inside of me that were unmistakable. I assured him it didn't as I started to wonder if some God or Fate or the Universal Narrator of Karma just had it out for me and was piling on humiliation after humiliation. "One of the other expectations was that," and as I was about to explain the rules around lactation I felt Dante' open my mouth and cram the now very dirty cloth gag into my mouth to stifle me from chattering on. I nodded my approval and murmured something about that being the right thing to do after all but they could only see that I seemed to be okay with it. "Okay we'll see you later, crazy lady." Tiontay waved dismissively and the kids ran back to a cabana on the end of the tiny dirt road. I actually mumbled into my gag futilely as I saw them padding off in the distance "Wait, what about telling Rahjid I am here." but half-way through the muffled scream I knew it was futile. I could hear them teasing one another as they ran towards the shack they call home, "I am gonna make you MY slave," Tiontay said. "Nuh-uh, you my little bitch right now!" Nasty teased right back insistently. I spent a lot of time for the next hour or so replaying in my head the conversation that had just happened and how I handled it. I might have done a few things differently if I could have done it over but then that is becoming the story of my life now – not just with Bill and Chris but in how I managed the family and the choices I made in putting my career first. I tried to be optimistic about what had just gone down. I made up my mind to try to be as submissive and obsequious to Rahjid as white-alert allowed. I was going to throw myself on his mercy and beg for forgiveness like a good slut. At least I had my gag and butt plug and while I knew a punishment was coming, at least Jamie wouldn't be the only one with the special plug the guys bought for us. I think a part of me could see her feeling disappointed if she was the only who had to wear it. I know that sounds weird – but we are more than just on the same team in this little jam we've gotten ourselves in. I did not want to let her down and I certainly didn't want Bill and Chris to have any more reason to put egg on my face. Mmm, eggs would be nice. I was so hungry about this time and it wasn't even noon yet. I was making up my mind to count my blessings though. What if I had been discovered by a gang with switchblades? Who am I kidding? I am a child of the 80s who lives in the suburbs. I picture the Jets and the Sharks from West Side Story when I envision a gang – running around with Doo-wop haircuts and Fonzi jackets. I know nothing of the streets. I spent the hour after that going over scenarios in my head that could have been much worse than what just happened. Yes, I could have had all sorts of nasty things befall me. I was tired, exhausted and so hungry. Dog food just isn't very nourishing and we haven't been getting that much anyway. The combination of the three has left me in what I can only say is a trance like state. As time went on, I began to feel a tingling on my lips where I kissed the frog. It kept getting more and more intense once I realized it was there. It didn't hurt but it felt weird and it wasn't long before I started seeing things look a little warped, like I was seeing them through one of those mirrors at the festival that distorted shapes. I guess I was hungrier than I thought because I found myself in my favorite deli I used to go to for lunch. It specialized in healthy, organic foods and the owner was a middle aged guy that always seemed to rub me the wrong way. He was just rude and unresponsive and if it wasn't for the good food and convenience of it being next door to where I worked I wouldn't have gone there. But here I found myself sitting there eating sandwich after sandwich, that were as unhealthy for you as you could get. These things were dripping with greasy fat and full of all the things you try to avoid on a healthy diet. The owner was standing over me forcing me to eat sandwich after sandwich as fast as I could. When I looked at him his head was getting bigger and then smaller over and over. It was very unsettling. I looked over at another table and there was Van sitting there eating a sandwich with a monstrous frog smashed between the slices and the legs were still flaying around as if the frog was still alive. I looked back at the owner of the deli and he opened his mouth. His facial expression showed no sign of surprise that inside his mouth was that damn tree frog! I gasped in shock as it jumped down onto the sandwich I had just lifted up to my mouth. It grew in size and leaned in to kiss me, not a little peck on the lips but it stuck its long, forked tongue down my throat in an obscenely deep French kiss. I was sure I was hallucinating but while this was happening it felt intensely real – more real than any dream I can remember. I found myself not repulsed but actually accepting and then participating in the French kiss. As I kissed the frog, I closed my eyes and as we kissed, the sensations of the kiss changed. That damn tongue was so deep in my throat at first but it kept getting shorter and shorter. Finally we broke the kiss and standing in front of me was the most handsome prince. He reached up and suddenly I was back on the cabana and he was releasing my ties. It didn't take long and he pulled me to his carriage that looked a lot like a carved out pumpkin. I was whisked away to his palace. When we got there, he led me in to the throne room still naked as can be. As soon as I entered the throne room I saw my family sitting on chairs on either side of the throne. My silver haired father was sitting there shaking his head and making that 'shuck-caw' sound the kids made over and over with a look of utter disappointment. My mother who had always been my rock was sitting in the chair next to him and she gave me a look of scorn and ridicule that would have made even Mrs. Waxerman ask her to take it down a notch (well that may be a little hyperbole but you get my meaning). This was quickly becoming a nightmare - my Sister was sitting on the other side of the throne with a sassy smile on her face, not to mention the look of delight at me being put in my place. In my halucination she still looks about 16 years old like a blonde Delta Burke in her prime with that big 1980s hair and she is chewing gum like it is a sport. She has this look on her face like, "Oh how the mighty have fallen" and Lisa doesn't say anything I'm being chained, standing in front of the throne. "Van, would you come take a look at this?" My current neighbor - the man I had sex with this weekend emerges from the dais with his hair slicked back looking like the high school all-American Quarterback he was in his prom tuxedo. He suavely ignores me and moves over to her and takes her arm with a bemused expression on his face. He pulls her into a loving embrace and then he sits down in the chair with her in his lap on the opposite side of the throne from mom and dad. All I can do is remain chained up in front of the throne with my hands pulled way up over my head and my legs wide apart. In my halucination my nipple and clit rings are exaggerated – at least three times their size and look positively obscene as they protrude from my engorged nipples and puffy, sore clit. My tits were just flowing milk out of them like a little river and my cunt was as wet as a swamp. For some reason I I was getting excited at all of this. Lastly, my younger brother Ted walks out from behind the dais. He has a grin on his face from ear to ear. This sounds silly but he is holding his Harvard Diploma and wearing an expensive suit. He was voted most likely to succeed in his high school class and last I heard he was a big real estate developer with a massive estate of his own so I guess the symbolism makes sense. "Hey Sis, are you sure that Butt plug is big enough for an ass like yours?" My brother asks but I cannot answer because I have a gag in my mouth. The humiliation of them sitting there just watching me is worse than anything I've experienced. The prince took his seat on his throne and took up his scepter and sat there with it held in his hand. It looked like a baton but made of wood and was only about a quarter of an inch in diameter and increased to the top where it was a two inch round knob. He sat there with my family for a moment and then my dad stoop up and came down in front of me. He grabbed me by my chin as he looked deeply into my eyes and announced for all to hear, "You have been found to be a bad wife, ignoring your husband and neglecting him when he needed you most. I am very disappointed in you." My mom stood up next and walked in front of me, and with a stare of scorn announced for all to hear, "You are a bad wife and mother. You refused to treat your husband as an equal and dominated and abused him. You put your own desires and career ahead of your family and they suffered for it, especially your son who needed you more than anyone. My sister got up when mom finished and walked up to me and slapped me. That's for being a lousy sister and a poor role model for my favorite niece and nephew. You don't know how I had looked up to you. But you were always lil miss perfect and I just couldn't catch up. Now look at you, a failure at your job, your family and your life. Finally it was my brother that got up and stood beside the rest. He just smiled at me and said, "I always wanted to see you get yours. You were a god damned pretentious bitch and a pain in the ass the whole time we were growing up. You deserve whatever you have coming. Finally the prince stood up and approached me. He stood directly in front of me with the family looking on in anticipation of what was going to happen. He lifted his scepter and asks, "You have been found to be worthless as a wife, a mother, a boss and a friend. You are good for nothing but being a slut slave. Since your crimes are unforgivable, I now pronounce sentence. You are hereby sentenced to live the rest of your life as a slut slave, having to follow the orders of your lord and master." As my prince, who I thought was my savior, pronounced sentence a big metal slave collar and shackles appeared around my neck, wrists and ankles. My mind was working to try and figure out what was happening when I felt a pain in my left tit. I scream a bit through the gag as the pain in my tit floods into me. I heard something that sounded like, "Why are you here?" but I couldn't be sure. He has my rapt attention and I see his scepter coming down towards my right tit when he asks again but now his voice has changed – it sounds higher and has a different measured cadence and I feel my right tit explode in pain as I watch his hand come down in what seemed like slow motion and make a huge depression in my tit, leaving a big read hand print, then I heard the question again in that Indian accent, "What are you doing back here?" he asks but I can't say anything I just murmur incoherently. I finally realize that I was just imagining my family in their idealized forms in the throne room and that there was no prince. I quickly figured out that there had to be some kind of hallucinogenic property to the skin of the frog I kissed with the boys. That was the only thing that would explain the hallucinations and tingling feeling I felt. As I realized what must have happened, I quickly wondered what my family would think of me in my actual current form, probably not much different. Rahjid had taken the gag out of my mouth and was asking me questions and all I was doing was babbling and drooling because the hallucinogen was still keeping me from behaving normally, well as normal as ever act these days. "Wake up you lazy sod, we went to look for you in the room, but you are out here cavorting about without clothes!" "No Sir, let me explain," my mouth was so dry and raspy – and my stomach was so empty that I felt weak in the knees while I pleaded with him, not to mention coming down from the hallucination. "No time for this," he cut me down with a box cutter and as blood flow started to return to my arms I felt even more disoriented. It dawned on me now how sore my wrists were going to be from being tied up all morning with plastic ties but I could not even yell. "Do you not know there are kids who play out here during the day?" he scolded me as if it had been my idea to strap myself naked to a wall while he cut the tie on one of my ankles. "Yes, trust me I did not want to be out here, may I please have some water Sir? I will do anything!" at that point I literally meant 'anything'. "You will do anything anyway, you are a nasty beast," he scolded me while cutting the final tie to release my foot. I stumbled and began massaging my wrists, "You may be right about that, Sir." I could still hear a rasp in my voice that made me feel like an old witch. Rahjid put his face close to mine and sniffed down my chest over my sweaty tits and said "You stink". Then he added "This is good, it means you worked hard" "Thank you Sir, I was trying to be a good girl. Did my husband call you to tell you he left me back here?" "Cow-tits, I don't know how to be saying this, but would you please move your naked ass back into the Cabana and take a shower, so you can begin to work?" Rahjid fastidiously reminded me that not only was I completely naked in broad daylight but that I really needed a bath. "Thank you, thank you so much for allowing me a shower, Sir!" I was relieved and I started to scurry off into our Cabana. As I rounded the corner I was immediately struck by the sound of horns and traffic on MLK blvd during the day. It was bumper to bumper – a stark contrast to the slower pace of traffic at night. I hesitated for a moment, but Rahjid walked behind me and slapped my bare ass with his hand, "Do not stand here and flash the traffic, it is bad for business." He instructed and with that I dashed quickly inside the cabana. My wrists and ankles were still hurting and now my lower back felt ridiculously sore. This would be the first shower I've had in a long time and I was doing it alone and unsupervised. Rahjid hadn't even checked to see if my 'passport' was in my tailpipe and it didn't make a lot of sense to me to keep it in while I showered. I took it out and felt a little guilty about cleaning it in the sink but I decided what Bill and Chris didn't know won't hurt them. Then I proceeded to take a good long piss on the toilet and at the end used as much toilet paper as I wanted without any weird guilt or power-trips. The bathroom was disgusting and mildewed and the shower-water was stale and lukewarm but let me tell you – it was like a phoenix being reborn from her ashes having the water cascade down on my body. I drank my fill from the shower and despite the fact it tasted like dirty PVC pipe water I kept cupping my hands in the shower and gulping it down. I tweaked my nipples in the shower until I felt like I had released all of the milk that had been dripping down from my poor engorged nubs. It still surprises me how they can be so sensitive yet take so much abuse – I guess that's nature's design so babies can gum the hell out of them to get a drink. I tasted my own milk – Meh, I've tasted worse coming out of my own body. I washed off all the lettering from the night before and then I started to dry my hair. I didn't have any make up here and I wasn't sure how I was going to look without anything to do my hair with but it didn't really bother me. I would just look about ten years older without my makeup though and that sort of bothered me. The guys made us wear blue mascara and pink bubble-gum lipstick anyway so it was actually refreshing to have a completely fresh and unmade up face. I sat down on a chair I had pulled into the bathroom and began to look at myself in the mirror. I started to feel guilty that I had taken out the butt plug on my own and cleaned it off as I had – especially since Jamie was home, probably having to keep hers in. I wondered about Jamie and whether her day had turned out as bad as mine. I wasn't too worried though with her Father watching over her all day – she has already spent two days outside. The worst that could happen is the Waxerman boys show up and unlike Dante', Tiontay and Nasty they were pretty well accustomed to our antics by now. There weren't any clothes in the Cabana that I could put on and I knew better than to try and head back out naked. There also was nothing to eat – I would have been glad for the salty crumbs from an old bag of chips. That is another thing I take away from my little re-education at Bill's hands – I used to only eat organic and six dollar wraps and Panini's. Now, I'd eat just about anything and be glad to get it. I was ready to work, all except for the clothes. I peeked out the window – it was still daylight and I braced myself for the fact I'd be walking the streets with busy traffic. I could already hear the honking and the whistles from the looky-loos before I had even begun. I looked over towards the Office but didn't see Rahjid or his wife. I was hoping they would bring me something to wear so I could get started. I also decided I was going to do the best I could to get Rahjid to give me a fair punishment for last night so that Bill and Chris (and even Jamie the rule-follower) would be proud of me. The bed was still dirty from the night before – no luck on fresh sheets so I just smoothed the bedspread and layback. I was going to insert my 'passport' but somewhere along the way I started to relax and at first began slowly fingering my pussy. I touched the cold metal of the butt plug to my clit ring and despite the pounding I've received from numerous dicks these past weeks I enjoyed probing myself with it. I began to fuck myself against the plug slow and steady. I licked my parched lips and raised my butt up a little so that I could get a little leverage. I was just going to keep doing it for a few more minutes to 'get it wet' before sticking it in my 'pooper' as Chris sometimes calls it, when the screen door swung open. "What-the-fuck is it this time?" honestly you had to hear his speech cadence to truly get how hilarious Rahjid sounds when he tries to sound angry. I wasn't laughing though because I had just been caught red-handed by him and his creepy wife playing with myself. "I am sooo sorry Master Rahjid, I was just getting my cunt lubricated to start working before I put this back up my ass, sir." "Likely story, you lying slut. You are doing the nasty on Rahjid Bed, on Rahjid Time, on Rahjid Dollar!?" his voice rose as he became increasingly angry. I sat up and pleaded with him. "Master Rahjid, please I am supposed to ask for punishment anyway, I know I was naughty for masturbating too, but I am supposed to confess what I did last night and ask for correction." "We have no time, you are already late to make the dollars, what is it you will be wearing?" Rahjid was impatient for me to work. "Please you don't understand Sir." I was on my knees on the dirty red carpet pleading with him to punish me. "If you don't punish me hard for what I did wrong, my husband will come and punish me so much harder." "This is does not sound a Rahjid Problem this sounds like a Cow-tit problem," Rahjid stated bluntly. "I don't have any clothes, Sir my husband and son took them last night when they tied me behind the Cabana." I was still in begging mode – seeming pathetic and at his mercy. I was almost in tears. "That sounds like a good punishment for a dirty whore, but you do not understand that behind the motels the efficiencies are paying customers who do not want to see your hairless Dheeli Choot." I did not know what a Dheeli Choot was but I had a pretty good idea from his context. "Please, Please Sir? Just like thirty minutes to punish me and I will wear whatever you have and work today and tonight all. I am so, so sorry." I was too. "Fine," Rahjid seemed put out by the idea and asked, "What punishment is suitable for your crimes?" "Well, don't you want me to confess what I did wrong and then come up with an appropriate punishment?" I was being asked to come up with my OWN punishment? I was used to my husband and son's punishment style and this was taking me out of my comfort zone in a big way. "I do not have the time, nor the interest in whatever of the shit that you have been doing wrong to fuck it up." Rahjid's English got worse as he became more impatient. "Tell me how to punish, so that we can get the money flow." "I don't really know, I mean ... I... ," I couldn't really think of anything now that it was being asked of me to come up with my own punishment. There are so many ways I could go. Chris and Bill have all of these index cards with clever ideas that must have taken them days to think up. It is equally frustrating and frightening to be asked to think of one's own punishment and have the stipulation it must seem commensurate to one's own rule violations. I think in a way it was a punishment in and of itself – but only I realized it. I stared blankly at an impatient Rahjid and his wife while I scanned through a rolodex in my head of punishments I've already survived in the hopes of thinking of one suitable to please Bill and Chris. The first and most obvious choice was taking a paddling – the old standby. They had used some sort of birch branches on me the night before and the oil from whatever it was stung like the devil. I couldn't just suggest more of the same (and a part of me did not want more of that nasty, wicked branch). The second idea was maybe a hair brush – ooh, what about bristle side instead of flat side? Still probably not sufficient for all the rule violations I have to answer for. I could add getting caught masturbating to the list now. "Well, you could paint five dollar blowjobs on my chest and send me out with very little clothes Sir?" Rahjid looked impatient and I blurted out the first idea that wasn't just beating me with something hard. "You think I want to undercut other girls? Then they have to suck dicks harder to make money, because you suck ALL the dick!" The frustrated little man made me laugh with his stunted English. "True, I am sorry sir, I am trying to think what they would do to a slut like me in India?' my question designed to at least see where he was leaning in punishment. "In my village, you would be having your face painted black and then dragged through the streets with bells on your tits and around your neck while you are threshed with sticks." Rahjid explained and his wife bobbled her head either agreeing with him or thinking 'here we go again' it is so hard to tell with Indian body language. I started to wonder how I could get away with something like that on busy mid-day, Martin Luther King Blvd. when he added "Then you would be taken to a nearby farm and attached to a plow, where you would replace some one's oxen for the remainder of your life to be scorned and ridiculed." Okay, that might be a bit TOO harsh even for all the things I have done. "I am so sorry sir, I am begging you," I got down on my knees and parted my legs while I held my hands up "I need you to punish me hard for all my mischief last night and today so that I will learn to behave!!" "Oh really?" he folded his arms skeptically "Well, and my husband and son will punish me much, much harder if they are un-satisfied, which will take more time away from my earning." As a pragmatic business man this was finally logic he saw worthy of his time. His wife whispered something in his ear and he nodded. "So this is like Devi-Das, my niece. She is agreed to be disciplined because she knows that it is worse to become like the western sluts of America." I wasn't sure if I agreed with him. I had wondered about his niece's situation since seeing her naked caramel colored skin the night before but I hadn't dared ask. I was just trying to save my own bacon from a worse punishment later and not my immortal Hindu soul from Americanization – it was probably too late for that, lol. Look at me writing "lol" in my journal when I make a joke like a teenager. I am probably about 15 years behind the times on that but it is progress. "You could punish me similar to Devi-Das, Sir?" "I do not punish Devi-das" Rahjid said sternly. "No? I thought she was a slave like my daughter and I?" I could have sworn she was being kept naked in a bedroom and trotted out to be whipped and then chained back up earlier. "That is prāyaścitta. I don't know the English word for it, or if you even have the concept here." He put his finger on his lip and considered carefully before continuing his lesson. "Prāyaścittas are not necessary only for the cleansing of one's own soul, but also for the satisfaction rest of society, as they are not permitted to have social contact with one who has sinned and not completed their penance. It is Devi-das own choice to perform her penance at my house so that she does not shame her father by his having to administer the punishments himself." I was a little shocked – I had suspected Rahjid was simply a pervert who liked to keep girls in bondage. We had seen one like that at the tattoo parlor in the flea market and I didn't know her story either. I suspected she knew my daughter though. "The vrata of the modern hindu is very trivial and does not cleanse one in the manner of the old Vrata. I do not believe you would understand this matter, but it does give me an idea, come." He started to walk out the door with his wife right behind him. "I don't have any clothes in here, sir." I said as I started to stand up. I had casually slipped my passport up my 'poop chute' as Chris calls it without calling too much attention to myself. I am surprised how easily I can stick things up my ass now – I sure am glad the rim is elastic and will tighten back up over time, lol. "You do not need clothes for such a short distance, crawl behind me and stay low and you shall be fine." Rahjid didn't look behind him – he simply walked out the screen door with the assurance I would follow. I got on my hands and then arched my back and walked on my feet. The pebbles and broken glass in the cracked pavement around the motel was too much for my old knees to bear. He walked slowly as if he might be savoring the fact that I was behind him and his wife. "You must learn patience, you will crawl too fast and then a car will notice. Crawl as if you belong where you are, you are just a dog. The drivers will not notice – be most assured." He offered without glancing backwards. I did as I was told and remained on my hands and knees when we got into his apartment. The overpowering smell of Indian food reminded me I was hungry enough to even eat that exotic cuisine. I'd only eaten it one other time when a co-worker tried to introduce me to it years ago and not only had I not been able to find anything I didn't think was goat meat but it did not agree with me. They led me into the bedroom with his niece. There was incense and candles lit around a shrine to different gods. She was hanging from a chain in the center of the room with the look of an innocent angel on her caramel colored face. She was quite attractive with long black hair and she had features that reminded of pixie – similar to Jamie. If Jamie was Tinkerbell then Devi-Das would be the darker friend that flies around with her in those Disney made-for video movies. She did not look up – but remained in a trance like state as if she was completely unaware of our presence. "I see from the look on your face, that you think me a cruel man to see my niece in such a way?" Rahjid asked. "No sir, you told me you had a reason for all of this," I actually did think he could be particularly cruel but I wasn't going to add insult to injury by pointing out how he treated Jamie and I. "Devi-Das has many ways to reduce her sin – let me show you," his impatience had evaporated and now the topic of his niece had come up he seemed intent on sharing with me a lesson in his culture. "You see the sacrifice into fire – it is called 'Homa'," He took a candle and intoned a prayer to the Lord of Vrata and held the lit candle under her pert breasts and over her chocolate nipples, but she remained unmoved and unburned. "Devi-das, we have an American woman here who wants to understand your choice to anutāpa, it is time for confession." Devi-das opened her eyes and looked down at me expressionless. "Is this what you want to be? A fake-breasts, fake-hair, fake-everything like this?" Rahjid wasn't being fair – my hair had a few highlights but that wasn't fake – I took his barb with a grain of salt and remained on the floor. "No Uncle, I wish to continue to perform the vrata, I have the strength to do it, may it be propitious for me." "Do you understand that while you perform the vrata, you must remain naked and chaste, without the benefit of your father's wealth – a tāpasá?" He turned to me as if talking to a child and explained "this means to remain wretched, poor and miserable." He considered me for a moment and added "Not like you and your daughter, but for bodily purification and spiritual enlightenment." I nodded understanding but did not reply. I wondered if we weren't really doing this for that very reason ourselves. "This wretch on the floor asks are you a slave to my house?" "No uncle, I am not your slave. The human body is the receptacle of piety, wealth, desires, and final liberation. It should therefore never be the subject of purchase. I am a burden to your house and that of my father until I have cleansed my soul and I thank you for the hospitality that you offer." She said with no hint of the accent of her uncle. "What is your name, dear niece?" "I am Urmila Devi Das, so named as slave to god, until I am free of the mortal sins of materialism, selfishness, sexual gratification and perversion that I have learned while in America," Oh brother, this girl would love Mrs. Waxerman. She was so serious and without a hint of self-doubt that I sensed she was not simply brain-washed but that she truly found some gratification in her situation. "What adorns your body?" Rahjid asked ritualistically. "The Mehndi of my prayers and the pain of the sorrow I have created with my fall from grace." She answered stoically. In many ways she reminded me so much of my own daughter now. I noticed that she was speaking of elaborate henna body art that was black enough as to not be easily visible in the low light of the make-shift shrine. There was a complexity and elaboration in glitter, gilding, and fine-line work that must have been her prayers. I saw long metal needles through her breasts in perfect lines and across her stomach and over her pussy that accented the art work and blended in with it perfectly. "How long have you been performing the Upavāsa?" Rahjid asked. "I have been fasting for 17 days Uncle, and only last night I was permitted Charmasukh last night." "This beast and her daughter are the ones who brought Charmasukh for you." Rahjid told her. "Thank you beast, you are doing me a great favor, for semen is the vital fluid of all life. I am permitted only the consumption for conscious posture and strenuous breath." "We are not permitted to touch Devi-das as she is unclean so she cannot collect this herself. My wife prepares for her from the condoms you bring the seed of life and we provide it to her through a ritual after her Prāṇāyāma which is the restraint of breath." I had wondered what they were doing with the condoms we brought but I had thought he was just a tremendous pervert who got a kick out of our carrying them in our mouths. I hadn't even taken it very seriously but now it dawned on me – he didn't want the semen touched by human hands. He lowered Devi-das' chain and she remained naked with her arms above her head. "You must perform six Prāṇāyāma before you can be fed." I noticed when Rahjid said that, just a slight hint of fear and concern flashed momentarily on her normally reserved brow. She brought her hands down to her side and with slow and deliberate moves brought her head to rest on an ornate ceramic trough with ornate Hindu carvings. I noticed they had a disturbing orgy of several men and women intertwined carved in the relief. "This is the recreation of Khajuraho temple from my home. The vase has a purified curve in the center for her to rest her neck. This has been in my family for centuries and passed down from mother to daughter." Rahjid was actually smiling the same perverted smile he had when he saw me humiliated at his swimming pool the night before. It occurred to me that Rahjid may look like he is perverted but I think he is just happy that his niece is reaching mumbo-jumbo Nirvana or whatever it is they are doing. Devi-Das held both sides of the ashy-black bowl she rested her supple neck on. Rahjid wife then lowered a stone block over her neck so that the girl was effectively trapped inside stocks. Then Rahjid's wife pushed on a lever in the floor which raised a platform under the girl dunking her head while raising her naked buttocks up in the air without so much as a splash. At that point the door flung open and a young indian boy rushed in speaking in Hindi and holding an action figure. "Get out while your cousin does her Vratas, young man." Rahjid demanded sternly. The boy looked down at me for about an instant and acting as if this were perfectly within reason that I be on all fours naked in just a dog collar while his cousin was being ritualistically dunked he padded quickly out of the room and shut the door. "Do you see? I have eight mouths to feed here? Do you see why you must work hard for Rahjid and learn to suck more dick?" Rahjid's tone was like every husband who ever complained about the rat race and the rising cost of butter - despite how lightly he took the trade of prostitution. "Yes Sir, I will do my best to suck more dick for you," I swallowed hard as I said it. I was hoping for them to finally release Devi and after what felt like a full minute she was released by allowing the platform to drop and popping her out of the water without ever being touched. "Your cousin was inquiring about you, have you been luring him to come into here and speak to you that you are not so bored?" Rahjid asked the soaked teenage girl. "I have only one time, but I will not again. I apologize Uncle. That was a moment of weakness." She begged. "You do not apologize to me for this, you have simply added to your prāyaścitta," Rahjid said softly and she agreed with a stoic pout worthy of Jamie. "May I have double the number of Prāṇāyāma, Uncle?" she asked. "You may but I cannot remain to witness your atonements. I must return this whore to work and to do this she requested a punishment. She thought that I was punishing you and I felt I must show her that is not the case." Rahjid said in a comforting manner. "Yes, the punishments are my own doing, stay or go as you wish beast, with my thanks for your gifts of which I am unworthy," Devi regarded me before steadying herself for another dunk. "Nicely said" Rahjid offered her a compliment just as her face met the water of the stone dunking tub and I could almost see a smile for the first time on her face. Rahjid snapped his fingers at me and walked back into his living room. I was hesitant to remain crawling but after a second snap I left his wife and daughter in the shrine and followed. "Do you see now that I cannot use these punishments on you?" Rahjid asked me as he stood in his kitchen and moved around some frying pans on his stove. I remained on all fours as two girls slightly younger than Jamie came skipping into the kitchen to where their father was standing. They looked down at me and giggled and then looked to their father for an explanation. He called me 'Dheeli Choot' – a word he had used the night before. They laughed and ran back into another room in the tiny apartment without a single question. "Do you often have women on all fours in your kitchen, Sir?" I asked joking about how everyone seemed to be completely unsurprised by the sight of my big round naked ass on all fours. "No, never. Why do you ask this?" Rahjid completely missed my attempt at humor. "I was just wondering why none of your kids seemed surprised to see me like this, Sir." I smiled knowing he had not picked up at my attempt at levity. "They know you are the pig American woman and whore from last night. This is a small apartment with thin walls. Everything is seen and heard by everyone. They have stopped giggling several hours ago and now know you are here to earn our family money. Does that surprise you?" Rahjid probably noticed that I looked insulted at the realization I was a laughing stock. "No sir, I am used to being called a pig," I lied. It happened often enough but it was still a battering on my pride. "Do you mind if I stand up?" "I prefer for you to be remaining on the ground. I have some curry here for you to eat. It is a delicacy of my home, a fish curry." He set a warm pan of awful smelling sour fish in a light brown cream sauce in front of my face. "Do not make the ugly face, just eat and then I will rent you some clothes to start your day shift." Gah! I tried not to make a face at the powerfully offensive Indian cuisine I'd just been offered but I doubt I was all that convincing. "I still need to be punished before my husband and son get here with my daughter Sir." "You are glutton for the punishment. I just told you all of my children are aware and yet you want still to be punished?" Rahjid asked incredulously as if I were being selfish by reminding him of my impending punishment. "I thought if they had already seen me on all fours naked, and you did not care about that then," I started to explain and saw him fold his arms impatiently "I am sorry Sir." I finally said and closed my mouth. "I have told you that I cannot use the ritual Vratas on you as that would be sacrilege and perversion of their true meaning." Rahjid explained. "My wife has her sewing on the table, I will select seven needles and you will pick where to place them." I am sure I looked horrified at the idea of being stuck with needles. I had almost become accustomed to blunt spankings with paddles and even a whipping here and there but sharp, pointy needles puncturing my skin was another animal all together. "You are frightened? Devi-das has over hundred," Rahjid said with a trace of pride on what his niece can endure. "You will tell me how many - one for each violation," he decided. "How long must I keep them in for Sir?" I swallowed wondering if I really wanted to know. "You will show husband and son, and they will decide when you have worn them long enough. You may not pick in your asshole or through your pussy because you must work and customers do not like sharp needle." Rahjid said that last condition like he thought that was my first choice. "Will I bleed?" I was probably stalling by asking questions. "I have been applying ritual needles to the girls of my family since I was seven years old. You will not bleed dear lady, do you have a preference where you want it and I will have them in before you finish the fish curry." "All in my boobs I guess, Sir?" I wondered if my breast implants would pop but I dared not ask him. It was obvious from what I saw the needles went long-ways along the surface of the skin and straight not down into the skin. "You believe this because you think Bill and Chris will approve this is enough?" Rahjids asked like a wizened Guru expecting me to look in my heart for the answer. "Let me see, I need a needle for each of my infractions," I looked up as if that helped me to count better. We had taken too long with our final customer of the night, we had half-assed the condoms at the end of that one, we had taken our butt plugs out on our own and I did it again today when I was caught masturbating. "I think I need five needles for five infractions, I guess put them then where you think they will impress my son and husband Sir?" "Very wise choice, now eat the curry," Rahjid hovered over my ass cheeks and pulled them apart. He slid two needles length wise into the sides of my tattoo around my ass cheeks. I made a hissing noise at first but once they were in I could no longer feel either. I also felt no blood drip down from the ass-stabbing I just got so I was more confident. "You took those well. These next two will hurt more," Rahjid could use some help with bedside manner as it only made me more apprehensive and heightened in my awareness of the pain I was about to receive. He pushed one of the needles directly into the center of my nipple and straight down. I thought he wasn't going to do that? Hot damn that felt like iced pain sharply driven into my tit. "Oh gawww-addd," I stuttered out as I realized the nipple pin had gone all the way in. "This will help you to think about your many rule violations," Rahjid put his thumb and forefinger around the nub of my other nipple and pressed down on my nipple ring. Then he slid the second needle like a sword plunging down the center of my titty. It was such a heightened and sharp pain that I have no words to describe it. It was much worse than getting my initial piercing. I could only hold my mouth open and suck air – I could not even scream. "Do not be such a big baby," Rahjid chided me and then rubbed my stomach as if considering where to stick me with the final pin. "I would put through your vagina but I need you to rent it on the street, open your mouth." I did as I was told and he saw my tongue ring. I had grown used to the dick shaped stud that was in my mouth and I don't think I lisp like a baby any more. "I did not see this before, it is valuable for sucking the dicks" he gave me permission to continue eating as he looked me over like a puzzle he was trying to solve on wheel of fortune. He squatted down to my face while I made a valiant effort to take a bite and swallow the nasty tasting food. I liked fish but this tasted like it had been left out to go bad. It had that nasty fish smell that you get when you leave uneaten fish in the garbage too long. That damn dog food was all of a sudden looking very appetizing right about now. It smelled a bit like warm garbage that had been left in the sun too long, and tasted like vomit to me but I was starving and I needed to eat – besides the girl in the other room had a worse diet than me. How they eat this stuff, I have no idea, it is absolutely putrefying. Eating a half a hot dog on the kitchen floor sounded real good to me at that moment. As a matter of fact it would be an absolute gourmet feast compared to this. It was all I could do to take each bite and chew it. Finally, I just took small bites and swallowed it whole to avoid chewing as much as possible. I was just finishing when an elderly black man came up to Rahjid's window and asked Rhajid if he had that left over fish curry he had left over from two days ago. Rahjid went and got an old Tupperware bowl that was half full of the nasty smelling fish curry. Then it dawned on me that black guy had said a couple of days. That meant that this stuff had been sitting around. God I hoped I wouldn't get sick. Just the thought of eating two day old fish that had been sitting out churned my stomach, but realizing I had been eating it made it worse. I paused eating and was about to quit eating what was left but my stomach growled in hunger so I started back with the tiny bites. As the black guy was leaving, the guy said, "This is the nastiest smelling stuff I've ever smelled but my cats love this. Let me know the next time you have it." When the guy had left, Rahjid turned to me and kicked my ass saying in his stilted accent, "Hurry up whore, time for punishment and then make the money!" Rahjid put his arm around my neck and cradled it like he was going to break it. Instead, he held me firmly in place with one arm and then used that hand to steady my face forward and used the other to drive a long slender needle through the center of my nose in between both nostrils. "Nooooooooooooooooooooooo," I cried out but it was already too late. I had heard a sharp pop sound in my head like when your eardrums pop on an airplane and it was done. "Oh my god, fuuuuuuuuuuuuu" I suddenly forgot all about the needle threaded into my tits and it was all about the nose – I wanted to cry but there were no tears. "You will show them and ask forgiveness," Rahjid sounded more like Ghandi than Apu from the Simpsons –offering his words as advice instead of brusque and business like orders. There was obviously more to him than I knew. There may even be more to my reasons for my own spiritual journey than even I knew – and for that matter for Jamie's own journey. I continued to nibble and pick at the curry with my teeth while Rahjid threw a pile of clothes at me. My thoughts were not on the cock sucking and street walking I was going to do today – it was just back on my daughter – I wondered if her day was as strange as mine? ------- Chapter 26: Jamie's Journal - And Meeting the Prince *Note to reader: This is Jamie's journal from Wednesday approximately 10am. Her dog Roscoe who has innocently enough caught the smell of a bitch in heat is furiously attempting to hump her rump while not quite finding his mark. In order to increase readability, some of the dialogue exchanged was altered to appear in a 'narrative' story format. CASH EARNINGS WEDNESDAY WENDY: $0 JAMIE: $0 I've known Roscoe since I was into Barbies and ballet slippers. His humping my butt felt like the ultimate betrayal while I was most vulnerable. Then again, he was the only male in the house I hadn't fucked over or been fucked by so I guess he was taking his time. In truth, I could not really be mad at him. He is a lonely dog who doesn't know any better. He saw my naked butt and probably sniffed and thought I was offering it to him. I wiggled, jiggled, and shooed but he kept climbing back on as if this were all part of the game. For all I knew, it probably was part of the mating dance dogs did together. I knew it probably wouldn't be long before his slimy rocket shaped cock found its mark. I was just glad that he was satisfied to do his humpty dance on my bare ass cheek and put his paws on my back while I stayed in doggy position. He had, on occasion, almost touched his tip to my asshole. I think that was more my fault since I hadn't kept my butt-cheeks clenched and had been presenting him with my red tattooed O of an asshole like an inviting target. I guess this is another reason to be thankful for my 'license' being crammed up my ass; it was a natural shield. There was just no way to remain deeply in the doggy position the way my brother had left me this morning with only my knees to support my weight. My arms were not sore yet but he had clicked the handcuffs nice and tight behind my back then twisted them so that it wouldn't be comfortable for me today while I lay chin and tits flat on the tiny cement patio leashed next to Roscoe. As bad as this was for me, I remember leaving Mom last night with that desperate, wild look in her eye as if she were sending telepathic screams saying 'please don't leave me out here like this.' The guys had zip tied her spread eagle by the ankles and wrists to the back of our cabana where anyone could do anything to her. I am always an optimist and had to keep telling myself that Rahjid is probably an early riser so he has probably already brought her down by now. If she was outside, I could already feel the sun beating down on my back and I was sure that it could not be earlier than 10 a.m. Mom has a really nice, all over even tan from nights at the tanning salon. At the very least, this exposure would help keep her that nice healthy bronze color, right? I have to keep positive or the fact I am being fucked by the family pet would drive me bananas. I still had the rubber dog bone clutched firmly in my mouth and drool was starting to dangle from it but it was nice to have something to bite into anytime his puppy paws scratched my butt just a little too sharply or his sticky dick squished into me just a little more than usual. I've been to gymnastic meets, track, swim-team, and varsity cheerleading and I've never met a girl who had as much hyperactive energy as this dog seemed to have. He was like a little energizer bunny going to town on me. I couldn't see his happy, little face but I had to imagine his tongue was wagging and he was looking around with the pride that a little dog has when its dominating a much larger dog. I had seen only a few episodes of 'Dog Whisperer.' I remember one episode where a Chihuahua could make much bigger dogs at his shelter turn away from him because he intimidated them. It was natural for an aggressive dog like him to try to lay or put his chin over them as a sign that he 'owned' them and not the other way around. I never thought Roscoe had a dominant bone in his body but, right now, he was 'owning' my ass. It was shortly after that that I heard a noise at the fence again and there they were. The Waxerman boys were back and peeking. Only now, I could see four foreheads, not three, peaking over, like ole' mister Wilson on that TV show 'Tool Time.' I wondered who the extra forehead belonged to until I heard her quietly speak to one of her brothers. She spoke loud enough for me to hear but not loud enough for Dad to hear in the house. "You guys were right. You said I wouldn't believe what that slut was doing in her back yard. I figured it would just be something nasty like eating dog shit or something like that. But no, she is worse than a slut. She's ain't nothing but a Jerry Springer-looking, dog fucking bitch. We'll have to introduce her to Prince some time. That little mutt she is fucking ain't got nothing." It was their older sister, Delilah, talking in that sassy but scolding country accent of hers. It was only a few moments before they had hopped the fence and helped their sister bounce over the six-foot wooden palisade that divided one suburban back yard from another in my housing community. "Wake up boys, and SMELL the pussy," she announced as they invaded my backyard. "Well, well, well, Alright, alright, alright," Delilah cocked her head with cadence of each word as she strutted over to where I was on the patio like a female Matthew McConaughey. "You said she wouldn't be, but she was – so you lost the bet!" her younger brother Gordon said nipping at her heels. "You have to listen more carefully, little brother," Delilah cracked a cold smile. "I said the bet was I wouldn't believe it. I believed it as soon as I saw it." She glared at him as if daring him to challenge her. "So does that mean WE lose?" Gordon asked with shock. I did not know what little bet they had going on but it didn't sound like a wager Gordon thought he was going to lose when he made it. "If you didn't win, then what do you think, Gordo?" Delilah chuckled sadistically as she sauntered over to Roscoe and I. Gordon sucked his teeth in disappointment and kicked the dirt in frustration –a small tantrum that she completely ignored. "I hope your brother knows how to fuck better than your dog does," she commented as she put her hands on her hips while towering over me. I won't lie – she was intimidating the hell out of me too. There was something dangerous or perhaps devilish about her wild brown hair, freckled face and ice cold, blue eyes – or maybe it was just the confidence and swagger that she exuded. Even Cathy Griffin, the ringmaster of all the humiliation amongst my fellow cheerleaders, didn't radiate with that kind of wild and untamed menace. "I see you got two holes plugged up here," Delilah tapped her finger on her lips as if making up her mind. "Which one should I take out? The one up her big, old, stretched-out butthole or this doggy bone?" she asked aloud but if it was for her brothers to answer, she didn't wait for a reply. She bent over and took out my rubber bone and I debated for a split instant whether it would be better to take a punishment from my father or return to white alert mode. Delilah knew all about my brother's orders to remain in white alert around them so I wouldn't be fooling her anyway. Truth be told, I was scared and more than just a little dreadful of what she was going to make me say. That fear and dread had chilled my spine and began to electrify the butterflies in my stomach to a rapid churn. "Oh the cute little princess looks nervous. Did we catch you at a private moment?" Delilah teased. "Uh, well yes, I mean no Ma'am?" I wasn't expecting that question and my stammering only amused her more. "Which is it? Are we intruding or, since my brothers and I have seen you boldly walk around with your ass and titties hanging out all over the neighborhood and up on Bradley Jenkins and everyone else, can we safely assume you don't mind us watching you fuck like a little bitch in heat?" How did she know about my crush on Bradley Jenkins? Oh yeah, she had pumped my brother for information. Then again, it was probably fairly obvious that I had a thing like a silly, schoolgirl for the older college guy. "I don't seem to have much choice in the matter, Ma'am," I admitted. That response wasn't particularly 'white alert' of me but I was getting rear-ended by a dog while the neighbor kids laughed. This wasn't exactly a high point in my deal with my father. "That is right. You're just a little flower petal to be plucked, sucked, and fucked by anyone who wants to have a ride, isn't that right?" Delilah ground her words into my soul as she said them one by one. "My dad is just inside, if you would like to ask him if you can stay and watch me," I offered as sweetly as I could. Roscoe hadn't relented on humping my booty and showed no signs of losing his doggy boner any time soon. I was still processing why my dad had shook his head in laughter when he saw me struggling with Roscoe earlier. It could be that it just seemed harmless and ridiculous to him or maybe this was part of the rules. I thought it was only a matter of time before Dad heard them outside, if he hadn't already. If they went in and asked him if they can stay then there is a chance that he will send them away like he did earlier. That was better, in my opinion, than him staying inside. I think a part of me also just wanted Dad to decide how to handle this because I was so conflicted. This was hands down the most humiliating part of a very long humiliating few weeks. I've danced naked with my mom at the county fair for passer-bys to take photos. I've been in wooden stocks like a puritan to be targeted with rotten fruit. I've run out on the football field during half time in just body paint and latex and, worse, I've worked the streets of Martin Luther King Blvd as a hooker! None of those comes close to the small but extremely humiliating fact that that I fucked my brother on the bathroom floor and kind of got off on it. Yet, here I was with an all-new low and the mandate by my brother and dad to give them the white alert treatment. That meant that I had to act like this was all part of everyday life and that I somehow expected or even relished it. I would need to summon whatever emotional reserves I had remaining to put that face on. "Well, let me just guide your doggy into this fat, wet hole before I go ask your dad, sweetums," Delilah's southern accent was honey with a good dash of acid. I could feel Roscoe's wet cock sliding into my slippery cunt. I was wet but I had been wet a lot lately; the tight clit ring did a lot of that. He had been slapping his wiener against my inner thigh and ass cheeks all morning furiously but now that he had made contact with actual pussy, he paused and waited for Delilah to center him behind me while her brothers chuckled at this new, perverse spectacle. I wanted to scream "NOOOOOOOOOOOOO" but what good would it do? Not only was he already inside me, officially making me a 'dog fucker' and 'bitch, ' but it would have only validated Delilah's desire to crush me in every way possible and not changed her mind. The deed was already done and I could feel Roscoe start to surge back and forth into me, plunging his animal cock into my human hole. I thanked her like an obedient little mouse and she slapped me on the bottom with a delighted "Be right back, Sug." What was she going to tell my father? What would he say if he saw Roscoe actually fucking me and these boys standing here, drooling and giggling over it? Things have changed so much between us all that it might not even surprise him. He doesn't know that Delilah knows about our white alert code and that we have been shining on her aunt and the pooper snoopers. He might expect me to give a white alert performance. What if she goes in there and tells him that she is bringing over her aunt to see this disgusting performance and how completely gross and disgusting I am for backing my ass up so Roscoe could finally penetrate me? She WOULD do that. She can be so manipulative. "What's your dog's name?" Zeke asked. At first, I had to ask what he said because I was so totally flummoxed by getting my pussy pounded by my dog that I couldn't think straight. "Sir?" I asked for clarification but he misinterpreted me so he began thinking that Roscoe's name was Sir. "No wonder you call us Sir. we fucked you too!" Zeke laughed hysterically at his own joke. Isn't it ironic that his own joke compared him and his brothers to a dog? I was biting my lip and moving back and forth in time with Roscoe's thrusts. He even bit my back! The little scoundrel was fucking me and I was fucking him right back like a good little slut. The bite wasn't hard but it wasn't soft either. I could not even keep my eyes open. I was too afraid that I might burst into tears at the thought that I could do any amount of redemption for the remainder of my life but I will be always and forever a girl who fucked a dog. I thought that was just on the Internet, not something REAL women did. Oh, wait, I forgot myself. I am not a real woman but just a slave to my father and brother. The whore tattoo was something my mother and I shared. It had an almost spiritual significance to our bonding through our mutual suffering to me. I could live that down because I wasn't as ashamed of it as I thought I might be. Once I actually walked the streets there was no going back and saying I am not actually a whore either. I was okay with that, but now that I've done bestiality – surely this is the lowest any girl can go? I know Mom had some secrets before we worked together, but even she hasn't done something this disgusting. What made it even worse was it was in front of three younger boys. Surely, she has not been this low I heard the sliding glass door open behind me. The familiar grating sound of the rollers slid through me like ice. What had she told my father? There was silence. All except for the rhythm of Roscoe's cock sloshing in and out of me and the sound of his panting. I was facing away from the door so I couldn't see his expression. Was he laughing and thinking that I had received my justly deserved treatment or was he so shocked that he couldn't say anything? Was he going to feel sorry for me, for once, and tell them all to go home and let me stop? That would be silly I guess; he fucked my ass this weekend after all. I could feel my nipples dragging against the cement of the patio now. The metal of my nipple rings brushed and sometimes caught against the scratchy surface as I was being plowed by my pet. I could feel all eyes burning into me from behind and I know my pulse and heart rate were about to burst. My entire body was literally throbbing. I wouldn't call it pleasure; it was more the intense humiliation driving the adrenalin. It was a feeling I had before but not quite as intensely as this, more like the pit of my stomach tightening. My brain told me that now was as a good time for a sanity check as any other. Agreement or no, this was simply too much. "Dad?" I asked with my face planted on the warm concrete. "Who?" I heard my dad say in a tone that instantly reminded me that I had forgotten to use my tone of respect along with the proper form of address. "I am sorry, Master. I have no excuse for that breach of respect. I uh, oh gawrd damn," I couldn't keep talking. I was half crying and half moaning from this. I haven't fucked a lot of men but none of them had a cock shaped quite like Roscoe's hook shaped little prick. His thrusts were teasing just the edges around the inside and causing my clit ring to ride back and forth and pull slightly. "Having fun, are we?" Dad sounded slightly amused. "Ghurk" I gurgled as I tried to compose myself in the face of the laughter of everyone around. "Is Roscoe allowed to do this Sir?" I didn't want to violate white alert but at the same time I wanted to give my dad a subtle hint that maybe he should stop this. "Did you hear me to tell him stop what he was doing?" Dad asked calmly. His reaction told me that he was not going to scare off the Waxerman boys or Roscoe this time. "No, Sir," I felt obliged to answer even though I knew his question was rhetorical. "We have been over this many times before, Assface, but you still are not learning. In my house, if I am present and don't tell someone to stop something then that means they can do it. You checking passive-aggressively won't change that. Roscoe is a male in our household, and what is our family motto, little slut?" My own father was standing behind me watching our dog fuck me. He knew the answer to this one too. "Taylor men rule and Taylor women drool, Sir!" From years as a cheerleader, I can surprise myself in how peppy I can sound delivering a cheer that I've heard so many times before. I am sure I sounded a lot more into that philosophy than I was at the moment. "Yes, the only drool is coming out of that sopping wet pussy of yours and not your mouth? Is that because you need to be gagged?" Dad was switching into 'affirmation mode' – I could tell from the tone of voice. "I don't know, Sir," I panted as Roscoe continued going to town with me. "Of course, YOU do not know. You have no idea when to run your mouth and when to be quiet so your betters can talk. It is up to me to decide what goes in that big mouth of yours, isn't it?" I swallowed hard. I hadn't eaten anything all morning and I was suddenly aware of my stomach growling and my pussy queefing a bit as Roscoe's pumping created air pockets. "It is your decision, Master Daddy," I don't know where I got that term from but I instantly wanted to reel it back in. It sounded so saccharine sweet that I wasn't sure how he would take it. "Oh it's Master Daddy when you want something is it?" Dad scolded me. I don't know where that came from but I heard Delilah's laugh over the others when I said it. "Fine, lay flat on your stomach and tighten your ass cheeks." Dad gave me instructions to disengage with Roscoe before he finally came and I breathed a sigh of relief as I did that as carefully as I could. Roscoe, for his part in all this, was completely oblivious as to why I was laying on my belly. My father instructed me to roll over and face him, keeping my legs closed 'for a change.' "Awwww shucks Mister Taylor," Delilah exclaimed, exaggerating her disappointment with a country bumpkin accent. "Auntie told us that you should never leave a male bottled up like that." At first, I didn't realize where she was going with this. "You said her mouth was empty. Could she at least use that deceitful tongue of hers to give poor old Roscoe some relief?" I stared up from the ground at my Dad and her standing over me. He seemed to be thinking it over as he scanned my body. I could see a giant bulging erection in his pants. I didn't even wait for the order that I knew was coming. I was laying on my handcuffs with my arms behind me so I couldn't lay back completely flat anyway. "Come on, Roscoe, sir." I opened my mouth wide to coax him over but he didn't to know what to do. The boys just laughed at my sitting up slightly with mouth wide open. "Your daughter may have a mess of book smarts but she sure don't know an awful lot about dogs. May I, sir?" Delilah asked my father sweetly and, with a nod of his head, she stepped over to me and positioned Roscoe over my head so that his cock was right in my mouth. I could taste my juices on the slimy, red dick. There was another tinier, redder dick that emerged from what I had assumed was his penis in the first place. I didn't get to look at it for long but in my mouth, I could feel along the edges with my tongue. It was like a tiny, plump sausage and it took about two full minutes of my tongue stud on the bottom of his penis before he was just like any human male who ever came into my mouth, completely spent. His dick expanded as he finished shooting every last drop into my mouth and he waited over my head. The weight of his tiny body had muffled the sound of laughter at my expense. The smell of dog was now completely overpowering me. I can't even describe it but I wanted a shower more than ever. I held my mouth open obediently, waiting for permission to swallow with my tongue out and the cum glistening in the warm sun. "You did good. It took you less time to pop your dog than it did to pop all my brothers' corks. You must like sucking dog dick better than you do boy dick, huh?" Delilah asked while I obediently held my tongue out for my father's approval to swallow. "Look at her tummy. It's all scratched up," Jimmy observed without sounding too concerned about it. "You didn't mind a little rough stuff, didja dog fucker?" When I didn't answer Delilah's second question, she gloated, "Why are you holding out that doggy-cream for us to see? You proud of it?" My dad folded his arms and interrupted her with "She is waiting for MY permission to swallow." I think he was finally starting to see her for the cruel bitch that she was instead of the sweet, country girl she presented herself as around him. Go Dad!! "You have permission to swallow the cum, ass-face. Let it drain down your teeth into your throat and thank Roscoe for giving it to you." Dad was either maintaining white alert or genuinely okay with what he had just seen me do. This wasn't the first time he wanted me to do a slow swallow of cum but the only others times were his own. "Thank you, Master, and thank YOU, Roscoe," I offered sweetly after I drained the cum across my teeth and into the back of my throat. It was the only thing I had eaten that day and my hunger only brought on more laughter from the Waxermans. "Ha-ha! Can you make her lick Roscoe's butt?" Ezekial's, the youngest Waxerman, face was lit up with hysterical laughter as he asked my father. He was almost bent over with the other boys enjoying the joke. My father asked "What?" but I knew he had heard the request. If I had to guess what my father was thinking, I would have said that he likes to be the 'Ring-master.' Even when he shares authority with my brother, he considers Chris an insider or on his team. The Waxermans were 'outsiders.' I could sense from Dad's manner that, while he was happy to humiliate me, something about them running things seem to rub him the wrong way. "Why are you asking me to tell her? You can order her to do it." I think Dad meant that sarcastically but the boys, not being the brightest bulbs in the box, took it literally. "Kiss its butt then!" Ezekial laughed the order to me and the others echoed his sentiment. I had my eyes closed as I endured their barbs and humiliations and laid on my back. I cropped open one eye to see what Dad's expression was as to whether I needed to do it or not. Unfortunately, the boys saw my one eye opening as high comedy, as if I was suddenly shocked and my eye popped open out of surprise. This caused them to double over in laughter. While my dad stood there impassively looking down at me, I wondered if he was playing white alert or he was just disappointed in me. How could he disapprove of me being obedient? But then again, he had just seen his whore of a daughter suck a dog to completion after it fucked her. "Sir, I can't move my hands. Would you mind turning Roscoe around so I can lick his asshole for our guests?" I mumbled. "I am sorry," Dad shook his head in disgust. I didn't let on that I had hope this new horror would soon be at an end and he would send them packing. "You need to ask our guests to do that. They are the ones who gave you the order." Dad winked at me and I realized that he was giving me a hidden signal that this was white-alert. Why oh why did we ever think it was such a funny game to shock Mrs. Waxerman? "Ezekial, sir, would you mind lifting up Roscoe's tail and backing him up to my face?" I propped myself up with my elbows so I could lift my head and shoulders up. "Really? And you can call me Zeke if you wanna," Zeke had not thought I would really do it. "You are not going to demand a gold star from your Master-daddy for being an obedient daughter then?" Delilah delivered a masterfully sarcastic baby-talk while stroking my father's hand in what was an obvious flirtation. I took solace in the fact that my dad visibly moved his hand away when she brushed it with hers. I am sure this was not her first seduction and part of the art was not to let on that her subtle body language had been intentional when someone backs away. "No, Ma'am. Until my mom and I earn enough to pay off some bills and for my father's trip, we've suspended our gold star system." I opened my mouth like I was biting into a peach as Zeke moved my dog's ass over my lips. I shut my eyes and gave his asshole a French kiss. I've licked only a few people's asses since this started and with my eyes closed I couldn't have been sure it wasn't a person if the fur on his tail hadn't tickled my nose. There was a lot of laughter. "Isn't it Mistress? Your brother told me I was a key-holder," Delilah asked while I was in the middle of 'tossing my dog's salad, ' a term I learned from Chris. "She calls me Sir or Master," Dad explained on my behalf while I was giving my dog an expert kiss on Roscoe's nasty little asshole. "We've suspended a lot of their rules until we get some family emergency squared away. Are you boys key-holders too?" he asked and the boys responded with shrugs and blank faces. "Okay, I need to get back on the computer. You can be Mistress out here in the yard with Ass-face and play with her but no punishments unless you come get me first, okay?" "Why yes, Master-daddy, but I think I'd love to come inside and see what you are working on that computer while my brothers keep your lovely daughter company," Delilah purred, making her flirtation more obvious. "No, you need to stay out here with your brothers so they don't hang her from a tree or something." Dad sounded like he was joking but, in a way, I knew he wasn't. The Waxerman boys probably WOULD hang me from a tree if left to their own perverse imaginations for what to do next with me. "Ass-face, you be extra nice to your new play-mates." He chuckled under his breath. I couldn't be sure if the boys heard him but Delilah certainly did. I could hear the sliding glass door being shut and, with that, I knew my day was about to get a whole lot rougher. "Whats a key-hole-er?" Jimmy asked me as soon as dad was gone. "Key holders are people my father and brother trust to be the boss of me, Sir," I answered politely. I was still flat on my back with my hands cuffed behind me and Roscoe's tail wagging in my face, waiting for more attention. "Your dad trusts Delilah to be the boss of you?" Jimmy and his brothers giggled at the irony of that statement. "I think it was my brother's idea, Sir?" I offered my personal theory. Delilah had become very chummy with him at the pool party. Was I being jealous and imagining it? No, I am not so naïve to not see that he was being manipulated. "You don't sound like you approve, Fatty Mcfatbutt?" Delilah sneered at me and rested the sole of her tennis shoe on my belly to add to my naked discomfort. "My approval is irrelevant, Ma'am. I'm an obedient slut for my brother and if he made you a key holder than I will obey you." I quickly added, "Within the boundaries of my rules uh, that is." "Your papa told me that you suspended the rules, so why are you out here rolling around, fucking dogs naked?" Delilah's question was a good one. Why was I out here doing this? If we suspended the rules, couldn't we at least have a little bit of comfort until we had to finish what we started? Delilah pressed down on my tummy repeatedly with her foot to mock my lack of an answer. "Cat got your tongue? Or should I say doggy got it?" She chuckled as she pressed down harder and harder on my stomach. "I was suspended from school so this is part of my punishment, Ma'am." I wasn't feeling like giving Delilah the satisfaction of playing white-alert. My brother wasn't here to laugh and it was only really funny because Mrs. Waxerman wasn't in on the joke. Delilah was just rubbing my situation in, both metaphorically and physically with the heel of her tennis shoes. "I think I prefer Mistress from now on," Delilah ground her shoe into my stomach and then started to press the tips against my boobs. She wasn't pushing down hard. It was actually somewhat erotic how she was grinding them and that made it even worse – the teasing. "Yes, Mistress," I dutifully replied. I hate how much of a Pollyanna Pure-bred I can sound like when I just act naturally. "So tell my brothers and me why you got kicked out of school?" Delilah asked approvingly of my obedient demeanor. I have to admit I am too nice. I should have just stood up and told her that I wasn't going to play the game. Instead, I laid flat on my back completely naked and politely took whatever she was dishing out. "I ran onto the football field in just body paint and danced around, Mistress." I swallowed hard. When I said it like that, it didn't sound as symbolic as it had when I was doing it. Her brothers laughed the hardest. She already knew all of this though. "It sounds like you are a little attention whore who likes having her titties flapping around in front of a bunch of strangers." Delilah had moved on to putting her entire shoe over the flat of my nipple piercings and bouncing it up and down. I really didn't know how to answer her question. If I said I did then she would just laugh and feel obliged to torment me further. If I denied it then she would probably think I was lying and torment me further. It suddenly dawned on me there was no way to win. I was only forestalling the inevitable humiliation that was going to happen this afternoon. My instincts kicked in and I decided to fall back on the white-alert protocol. "Yes Mistress. I love being naked in front of students, faculty and a bunch of strangers!" I even panted a little and sucked my lip. "What do you like about it, slut?" Delilah hadn't expected me to act turned on. She seemed to like the hesitant and uncertain me. "It makes my cunt wet to show off my titties and make guys hard," I have to admit that there was a kernel of truth to the adrenalin rush I had received from my jaunt on the football field. However, it really was all about my symbolic end of my life as a boring, goody-two-shoes and my commitment to giving Dad and Chris payback. Zeke adjusted himself in his jeans and I knew his brothers were also getting turned on so I turned up the heat. "Can you take off your pants and jizz all over me? I liked how you three fucked me the other day. I took your virginity right, Sir?" I addressed all three of the Waxerman boys and started to rock and writhe with my hips a little. Roscoe was still wandering around on the patio loose while all this dirty, little spectacle played out. "You don't get human cock, when doggy cock would do just fine to fill up those gaping fat cum holes of yours." Delilah's accident faded into obscurity as the freckled country girl tried to reverse course. I was turning the tables on her by not only accepting her as my mistress but embracing it! I tried to keep cool and not let on that I had just figured out a way to 'win, ' but a smile crept across my face anyway. "Why are you smiling, whore?" Delilah asked me as if she was disappointed and shocked. "Your shoes are turning me on, Mistress. I love how you are crushing my big, fat nipples under their weight and driving my nipple rings into my chest. Could you play with me more?" I mewed in the sexiest voice I could muster. I can't help but feel like Taylor Swift awkwardly trying to pretend to be sexy when I do this but it seemed to turn on the boys and fluster Delilah. She withdrew her shoe as if she had just stepped in one of Roscoe's dog biscuits. I laid it on a little thick and groaned and sighed, batting my eyes. The ironic thing is the more I pretended to be turned on the more arousal I felt coursing through me. My nipples got hard and goose bumps emerged up and down my body as I lay on the coarse cement of my backyard patio egging them on. "You want to be a little puppy fucker, don't you, slut?" Delilah's eyes narrowed at me. I could see Mrs. Waxerman's face in hers. I caught a glimpse of what the old woman must have looked like as a young girl before decades of intolerance and repression had made her into the insufferable busy-body she had become. "Yes, mistress, but Roscoe's dick is empty and tired. Can't I have all three of theirs? Oh please? It's just so unfay-er." I was worried that I had just revealed my hand when my sobbing plea sounded like my sweet Georgia peach accent. "You are going to have to EARN every inch of those peters you want to plug your unholy holes!" Delilah's voice even started to sound more like her aunt as she chided me for being such a wanton pervert. "Oh yes Mistress, anything you ever did want, I will obey if you will let me lick their dicks!" I stuck my tongue out and panted like a puppy while I worked myself upright on my elbows. I was pressing my luck by talking with a southern accent but it seemed to be backing Delilah into a corner. She hadn't expected me to do all of this and I admit I was actually enjoying not being entirely helpless despite being handcuffed, naked and essentially completely helpless. One shift in attitude had changed the game entirely! "Okay, doggy bitch, flip over and spread that ass for us." Delilah swallowed uncomfortably as she searched for the kinkiest things she could make me do. "I have a lot of practice spreading my ass, Mistress. However, it is very difficult to spread my ass when I can't use my hands. I will do the best I can for you, Mistress." I had grown comfortable enough to throw myself into the role but I admit I wasn't sure how much was white-alert and seeing how far I could push myself anymore. I flipped over onto my knees with my hands still cuffed behind me and pushed my nose into the grass as I spread my legs behind me. I was kneeling with my tits touching the grass and my ass up as high I could get it. One of the Waxerman boys made a farting sound with his mouth as my ass came into view and the others, who had been chuckling all along, laughed a little harder at the impromptu raspberry that was supposed to have come from my ass. "Oh, my farts don't sound that silly, sir," I teased playfully and then I held my breath and pushed my tummy in, expelling out the cutest little dainty fart I could muster. My brother had made my mom and I play games to see who could burp or fart when we were earning stars. If he hadn't had done that then I probably wouldn't have had that ability to bring one out on command. They erupted in laughter at the sound it made and told me to do it again. "You know I would obey sir, but I am afraid that I may shit myself if I did," I teased. I knew that they loved farts and poop and my saying "Shit" only made them laugh at the preposterousness of it. I probably looked like this blonde, blue-eyed, little sweetie-pie and talking like a sailor only added to the naughtiness of it all. "So? I want to see you squeeze cheese out of that precious, pink poop-hole of yours." The voice that said this curled my blood and gave me pause. I had my face buried in the dirt but I knew instantly it was Cathy Griffin, now head cheerleader of the Cherry Lawn Rams Varsity Cheerleading Squad. "Hello Mistress, the more the merrier!" I had been caught off guard and I was losing steam with playing the over-eager-slut once I heard her push the sliding glass door open and walk over. "Who are these little turds? Wally and the Beaver?" Cathy demanded. I didn't look up and just kept my ass up in the air as I replied, "No, Mistress. They are my key holder, Delilah, and her brothers, Jimmy, Zeke, and Gordon Waxerman, Ma'am." "I was going to introduce you to the board of education," she tapped what I assumed was a wooden paddle against my ass, "since you didn't have any class work today and introduce you to my new boy toy but it seems you are busy." I looked up and over my shoulder and I was aghast and stunned by what I saw. Dave Stravosky, star football player and all around jock, stood next to little 5'4" strawberry blonde and spritely Cathy Griffin in her cheerleader uniform. Dave was already well over six foot tall and needed to shave. He had close cropped brown hair and, instead of his football jersey, was wearing a lace-up black bustier, panties, fishnets and a garter. He was still standing like a football player with all the attitude and swagger but there was a thin metal chain leash coming from the panties and wrapped around Cathy's wrist. On his forehead, in bright red lipstick read "Gay-bait #31." Some of the letters were backwards, as if he had tried to write them himself in the mirror. "Laugh it up. It's an initiation, okay?" Dave snarled at me when he saw I was looking up at him. Cathy pulled the chain, which was obviously attached to his balls. He immediately dropped his tough guy act by a notch and thanked her. The Waxerman boys had a good laugh at seeing him getting taken down a peg or two but he just ignored them. "Davey agreed to be my boy-toy plaything. In exchange, I make him suck cocks," Cathy stated callously while still holding his leash tightly. "That isn't it. It's a football initiation!" Dave sounded alarmed. "Oh, are you calling me a liar again?" Cathy asked and as he shrunk back, I could have sworn I saw him actually cower. "No Mistress, I am sorry, I am so sorry!" Dave wanted to grab his nuts but resisted the urge and put his beefy arms behind his back. If I didn't know better, I would swear that I almost saw a smile on his face. "You like to suck guys dicks, don't you, Davey-poo?" Cathy asked him. "No Mistress, you made me do that," Dave's denial didn't sound very authentic and Cathy gave him a yank on the chain to demonstrate she didn't believe it either. "Oh god, you are ripping my nuts off," Dave sounded like he was in anguish. "Just wait until I get you some ball stretchers. You will grow to love them! Now Davey here, admit the truth to our new found friends and slut-bitch that you can't get it up for girls, and you love dick?" There was a long pause and then an "Arggggggggg" came from Dave as she jerked his chain again, followed by some Waxerman giggles. "He is so much more fun of a plaything than you, girly." Cathy laughed sadistically before adding, "Go ahead and whip it out, Dave. If you can get hard and cum inside Jamie I will let you out of our little deal but if you can't then you will have to do this for another week." She jerked his chain just slightly to let him know she was serious. "Another week? No way, big game this weekend!" Dave demanded. "So you can't get off with a fine little piece of fishy-trim like Jamie Taylor, can you? Perhaps I should invite her brother out here to get you turned on." "No, I can get hard for a girl!" Dave demanded before another jerk of the chain made him remember to add "Mistress" to his words. "I didn't say just get hard. I want to see you pull out and shoot your cum all over her back and ass. You can pick any hole, if you are so confident." I couldn't see Cathy as she spoke but her confidence made her sound about ten feet tall. "What? That's sick. Get off in front of these kids? I can't fuck in front of them," Dave sounded nervous about the challenge. "They were about to stick a garden hose up Jamie's ass," They were? That was news to me. "I think they won't be too scarred for life by seeing your little dick-stick pounding some fresh pussy, would you boys?" Cathy received nothing but pleased faces and agreement from the Waxerman boys. "Okay, Okay but could it be you instead?" Dave was negotiating without anything to offer in exchange for changing the deal. I had already anticipated Cathy's bemused laughter at the notion that he could put his dick inside of her. "No no, I am not a pathetic little fuck pig like Jamie Taylor. If you liked girls half as much as you pretended, I've got six or seven girls on varsity who would fuck you on command. You won't be stabbing that pathetic little dick into THESE holes though," Cathy delivered him a laugh that would shrink any straight guy's erection. It started to make sense to me that Dave may have been gay. I remember he was always the one who calling other people 'homo' and trying to sound macho and tough but even when he fucked me the day before, only his friends had cum inside me. He had actually pissed all over me the first time he caught me masturbating in school. Why would he have done that if he could have jerked off onto me instead? "You city-born preppies sure are freaks," Delilah finally offered while Dave tried to negotiate down his sentence. He was trying to get her to let him do it just up until the game at the end of the week but Cathy was having none of it and the more he pleaded the more she laughed. "Preppies? Well who are you, Daisy Mae?" Cathy sized up Delilah. They were about the same size and temperament and I had wondered what might happen if they met. "I have a cousin named Daisy Mae. How did you know that?" Delilah asked skeptically. "Of course you do, down in Fuckman Acres Trailer Park where the toothless inbred hillbillies come from, there is always a Daisy Mae!" Cathy giggled and gave a small jerk to Dave's leash when he started to laugh too. "I don't rightly know why you think that is funny, but I don't like you all that much," Delilah replied defiantly. "That makes two of us," Cathy answered right back. "I've seen you all traipsing around in your 1950s style haircuts and Leave it to Beaver wardrobe, but until now I didn't think much about you. You live next to Doctor Jim? "You know Doctor Hooker?" Delilah sounded like she couldn't believe that he would be associated with her. "Let's just say I know he likes to play tie-up games down in his basement," Cathy had dirt on everyone. It was how she was able to keep power over people. If she didn't have blackmail on you, she offered sex from someone she did have blackmail on to get that power. "I bet you would go down there for twenty dollars," Delilah's voice sounded like her Aunt's when she tried to sound offended and shocked. "You know, I could get you a hundred bucks clear and free for an hour's work, if you let me make a few introductions on your behalf, sweety." Cathy shrugged off the insult and offered one of her own. "I am no prostitute!" Delilah was getting agitated. Now keep in mind, all the while I am on my knees and naked with my face in the grass and my hands cuffed behind my back yet no one is paying the least bit of attention to me, besides Roscoe occasionally licking the sweet off my body. "Yeah, you've got no tits at all, and your face is kind of squirrelly," Cathy agreed dismissively and turned to Gordon. "You in the middle, the fat one, Chubbs. I could probably get a blonde wig for you and tuck your dick in. You have bigger boobs than your sister." Gordon's brothers laughed but Delilah took this very personally as an affront. "May I..." I started to ask if I could get up and at least face them but both Cathy and Delilah simultaneously told me "NO" in a shout. "What gives you the right, Mrs. Strawberry, to judge me or my brothers? Your tits aren't so much either and your ass is as flat as a flapjack!" Delilah was angry now. "Oh my dear, you have no idea who you are fucking with and for that I pity you. You just made my shit list." Cathy added, "Don't worry though. You'll be in great company. A lot of people actually wish they could make that list, don't they, Davey?" she asked as she gave his nuts a tug on the chain. "Oh, well you've been on my shit list since you sauntered your big ego in here and I've only got room for one name ON my list," Delilah crowed. "You know, I would expect someone like you couldn't spell list, much less make one. Are you guys home-schooled or do you just play Banjo all day and squeal like piggies?" She addressed the boys with a sarcastic tone that even hurt my feelings so I knew it had cut a little deep by the sudden cessation of their laughter. Granted, they had been laughing all afternoon at my humiliation and were about to shove a garden hose up my unexpecting ass to get their jollies so it was a little hard to feel sympathy for them. "You think you are so all mighty and tough. Why don't you prove it?" Delilah demanded. "Oh and how should I do that? I can already count to twenty without taking off my shoes and gloves, Delta Dawn. Do you have some country-game that can prove I am Queen of the Hog-callers or something?" Delilah tried her best to hide her sassy country accent but the angrier she got, the less she could control it and when Cathy made fun of it, it only seemed to enrage her further. "You could Injun leg wrestle me!" Delilah was flustered. "I am sorry. I did not read Tom Sawyer. What the fuck is Indian leg wrestling?" Cathy oozed a sort of contempt that I've not heard before. It reminded me of two cats who were sizing each other up and there was an uneasy electricity in the air. The funny thing is – I could tell Cathy was being purposely condescending because the only way she could know Indian leg wrestling was in Tom Sawyer was to read it or watched a movie of it. It must be like when I sometimes play dumb to try not to hurt people's feelings – only in reverse. "Don't do it, Mistress," Dave offered helpfully. "Don't tell me what to do, Numb nuts." Cathy yanked his chain and he stifled back up. "Injun leg wrestling is where you lay on the ground in opposite directions." Delilah explained with an obvious chip on her shoulder. "Sixty nine!" Jimmy called out. "No dummy, hip to hip." Delilah scorned her brother's interruption and explained that they both lock legs, count three and then try to flip over the other one. "Sounds pretty lame. Is this what you do when you have no Nintendo?" Cathy seemed pretty amused at the notion of wrestling. "Chicken, Chicken, Bawk Bawk!" Delilah flapped her arms and made squawking sounds to taunt Cathy. "Okay, you made your point. Let's say I win, then what?" Cathy was cock-sure of herself and sounded like a street-wise negotiator trying to understand the angle of the hustle. "You win and you can say you are the best, I guess?" Delilah laughed as if there was more to it than that in her countrified accent. "I want to see what you are made of, country girl. How about a friendly little wager?" "Nah, I just want to beat the crap out of you. I don't want nuthin' you have, and I mean that truly," Delilah said scornfully. "Now, I wouldn't bet you a little piece of shit like Dave Stravosky. That is insulting that you think I'd wager a small pecker like his on anything." She tied his chain to a branch of one of the trees in the backyard. It was just a little too high so he had to stand on his toes to avoid any pain. Cathy ignored him and considered her adversary's words. "Tell you what, let's play three rounds. Lose once and drop the top, lose twice and go to panties. Lose three times and you go naked." Cathy's impish tone sounded more like a dare than an offer. "Wha-eye?" Delilah drew out the countrified syllables to her one word question. I had heard her do this before when she was really curious about something. "I want to see if the carpet matches the drapes for one thing," Cathy answered and I was sure that the reference may have gone over Delilah's head. "When I win, how long are you going to stay naked fer?" Delilah's southern accent was almost cartoonish at this point. "Oh, if I lost? Well as I don't intend to lose, I suppose I could agree to be out here at least until Chris Griffin comes home to let his little slut of a sister take a shit on the lawn." Cathy and David were home from school awful early, I suddenly realized. I would imagine school wasn't even going to be out for at least a few more hours. "I don't think so. T'ain't no reason for me to be out here like that," Delilah was backing down. "That is, of course, if you lose. Are you afraid that Chris might see that pudgy muffin-top belly of yours and your cottage cheese thighs? I saw you making googly eyes at him at the pool," Cathy let that sink in before adding, "Chris does what I tell him. I am the one who engineered this whole arrangement with his sister and mom, you know." "Chris Taylor is not some little boy toy like big-old-dufus over there!" Delilah was angry, defiant and now defensive over my brother. Maybe she really did like him! Dave started to defend himself but both girls gave him a stare that told him he was better off staying quiet. Dave turned his brow-beating gaze on to the Waxerman boys since he couldn't intimidate anyone else in the yard at that exact moment. It was all becoming obvious to me that he bullied people when he was uncomfortable. "I don't have thunder-thighs, anyhow!" Delilah fired back. "Did I say thunder? No, more like pasty-white cottage cheese thighs. I saw you in that hillbilly one piece down at the pool party. You've got a big thick bush of un-trimmed pussy hair and I'd like to see you grovel and greet Chris when he comes out here to kiss my ass right in front of you." "You will chicken out if you lose. You really expect me to believe you are going to get down on your hands and knees and wait for Chris Taylor to kiss MY ass?" Delilah had just inched the stakes up a little further in clarifying the bet. These two girls have 'alpha personalities' and I've always found that in any clique there is only room for one of those. "The only way your Prince Charming is going to kiss your freckled fat ass is when I write 'Kiss me, Chris Taylor' on it in Magic Marker after you've lost this little competition. Now if you want to back down?" Cathy's voice was a challenge of contempt. "Why on earth would I back down from a harlot like you?" Delilah laughed. "I am captain of the cheerleading squad." Cathy was in uniform and executed a perfect split in my backyard. "I've got muscles in places your brothers have never even fucked you in yet, little girl." "Why I have never!" Delilah might not have been able to help sounding like her dear old Aunt when she got flustered but right then I could have sworn it was the elder Waxerman. "Oh you really should. Mine are so much easier to control now that they've had a taste of what I bring to the table." Cathy sprung back up to her feet with ease. "Now, I don't know about all this. If'n I lose, then you get to write all over me in marker?" Delilah sounded uncharacteristically uncertain of herself. "Yes, everyone out here can, but don't worry, Dave doesn't like girls, and Jamie here will just watch." Cathy was making up the rules as she went but sounding very 'official.' "Do it, Sis" and "You can kick her ass" came from the boys as they were egging on Delilah to take on her sudden new rival. I couldn't be sure if it was because they'd get to write on her and get some payback for all the times she welched on whatever twisted little bets they had or if they just had supreme confidence in her taking Cathy down. "Now, you would keep my clothes nearby, and wouldn't let me brothers go throw them over the fence or up in the tree for me ta fetch, if'n I was the one to lose now would you?" Delilah was still unsure. "Your brothers seem honest. You boys can hang onto our clothes, but like your sister said, don't throw them any further than over the fence or up in to a tree. You can climb trees can't you, Daisy Mae?" Cathy teased. "I sure can, but you can't blame me for being a might bit nervous, that you'd put a leash around my neck like that big, strapping football player over yonder then make me fetch and do doggy tricks like your other toy over there." Finally someone was talking about me, again! Hah, maybe I was an attention-whore because I had been left out of this entire thing and at the first mention of my name, my ears perked up. "Why, are you skeered of having to trot around like a dumb bitch for a few hours? The only difference between yourself now and then would be the amount of clothes you are wearing." Cathy sneered in response. "It's just that, well, her Papa made her suck off the family dog and I didn't want ta' have to do that if'n I lost our little bet." Delilah had found a clever way to renew my humiliation all at once in her response. "That's fucking sick!!!" Dave exclaimed. Strangely, it sounded like he was actually impressed. Cathy just laughed "Well, Jamie Taylor, that is a new low for even you." "So you wouldn't make me behave just like her, obviously then?" Delilah sighed with relief. "Why wouldn't I? Are you too good to do it?" Cathy's response was coated in snark. "It is just that, well, if you lose then you have to do all this and I know a priss like you wouldn't do it. Then I'd have you welchin on a bet is all." Delilah sounded a bit more savvy than she had let on. Who was the street-wise one here? I used to watch a show called "Green Acres" and the hillbilly huckster of a door-to-door salesmen used to grease the main character a lot like Delilah seemed to be turning the tables on Cathy. The question was could Cathy see that was happening? "Honey, I would not be queen of the S-club at school and have all the connections I did if I wasn't willing to pay my debts. Now are we going to do this, or are you going to stall until Chris gets home?" I wasn't sure what the "S-club" was but I assumed it was part of how Cathy had obtained dominance over so many of my friends. "Yeah, I guess so. I still think you are going to wuss out and not play fair, but I will if you will." Delilah fired back in a daring tone of her own as the two girls laid flat on their backs on my backyard and lined up for their first round. I didn't dare ask if I could move to get a better view. I just remained dutifully on the ground eating the dirt. I was wondering if this is how Mom felt the night they made her stand on two chairs in the living room and ignored her the entire time. I could not see them count off, but I heard the two girls as they locked legs and on '1,2,3 ... and go' began a struggle that didn't last long at all. Delilah lost and I heard her complain she wasn't ready. "Oh, I am sorry. Is one, two, three, go not sufficient for country bumpkins?" Cathy snarled as she demanded that Delilah pop her top. "Don't you laugh," Delilah declared to her brothers. Their chuckling ceased and they didn't laugh (for the most part). Delilah handed her top to Jimmy and gave him a pouty expression that read 'don't you dare' but it almost seemed to embolden him. He wound up and tossed the shirt and bra into the highest branches of the tree that Dave was chained too. "Jimmy Waxerman!" Delilah was using her forearm to guard her nipples as she scolded her mischievous brother. "Now, now, take your hands away from your boobs. You will be popped if you try to cover yourself. It's only fair." Cathy sounded like she was being considerate as she informed her nemesis of the new impromptu rule. "Okay, but maybe we should stop. I didn't know you had so much leg strength and all. I'll meet Chris out here with my boobies hanging out and you all can write on them, I'll even go inside and ask Mr. Taylor for a marker, if it will make you happy." Delilah sounded contrite and tame. "Oh but you agreed to go all the way down to your bare-ass. It isn't much of a game, if we stop now. I do like the idea of you having to beg Mr. Taylor for marker though. How about some duct tape too?" Cathy upped the ante once again. "Oh no, if we had duct tape, I would say to tape our legs together so you can't squirm and worm around on me like you done did that last time." I had heard Delilah's countrified innocence and knew that was an act but I don't think Cathy had any idea that she might be being set up. "I would agree to that, but you and I both have to ask. If there is one thing I am sure of, it is that the Taylor's have a lot of duct tape around here." "What do you call it, Jamie?" Delilah called over to me. "My brother calls it fuct tape, Mistress," I answered with my nose pressed to the grass, "because he likes to say, how fucked we are now that we are taped up." "Can't we send Jamie in? Her daddy would see my bare boobies and wonder what we are doing out here." I couldn't see but I assumed Delilah had finally brought her arms down to her side. Her brothers had seen her topless that past weekend but I knew that losing to Cathy was probably eating at her. "You sure are worried about what Mr. Taylor thinks. Tell you what, I will send Jamie with Dave to walk her in and ask for the fuct tape. Since I'm being so generous this time, if you lose this next round then you and I will walk inside and you can remove your trashy denim mini-skirt in front of Mr. Taylor and you can give him back the tape, deal?" I couldn't decide if both of them were trying to hustle each other or they were just that competitive. "It's a deal, bitch!" Delilah sounded cross and angry. Cathy attached Dave's leash to my dog collar and told him to walk me in on all fours and ask POLITELY for some duct tape. I was thankful to get to move from the awkward position I had been in for so long and to finally have my handcuffs removed. Dave grinned as he walked while looking down at me "So you really fucked a dog, huh?" He was delighted at how disgusting that sounded. "Just like you really like sucking dicks, huh Sir?" I answered him in as sweet and adorable a tone as possible. His response was to jerk my chain but it only proved to hurt his own balls. He didn't say another word to me as we walked inside. "Mister Taylor, um Mistress Cathy, well she sent me in here for some duct tape." Dave said bluntly without making eye contact with my dad. My dad looked up from the computer. I assumed he would be lost in whatever video game had taken his interest but he was actually on linkedin.com and it looked like he was looking for a job. Way to go dad!! My dad is the kind of guy who likes to be the 'strong and silent' type and say things with his expression instead of his mouth. It does not always come off the way he would like but it seemed to with his expression towards Dave. "It is a high school thing that I can't really explain. It is for football, like an initiation," Dave continued to explain and backed himself into a corner. "Dave, it's okay. I know Cathy very well. She has you by the balls literally over something. She had us that way too." My dad tossed him the duct tape and went back to what he was doing with a playful slap to my bare ass as I crawled away. "Those boys aren't too hard on you out there, are they Ass-face?" he asked as we walked away. "No, Master, they aren't being mean at all." I answered truthfully. "Oh that is a pity. Well hopefully it is a good warm up for work tonight and you won't need a bunch of affirmations to loosen those pussy lips of yours," Dad said without looking up from the computer. Dave walked me back out to the patio on all fours and just laughed "Your dad is kind of fucked up, but he is alright." The girls had already settled the last two rounds. Delilah was down completely to her panties. However, the great Cathy Griffin was standing in my backyard with her perky little tits completely bare and jiggling. I hadn't expected them to have so many freckles on them. "Dave, I know you aren't looking at my breasts. I thought you only liked dick, right?" Cathy dared him to glance in her direction and he said nothing, just nodded like a lion with no teeth. In the time I've been serving, I can't remember ever seeing Cathy naked. I don't even recall seeing her shower and now here she was with her chest completely bare in front of the Waxerman boys waiting for the duct tape. "You took your sweet time, go tie yourselves to the tree!" Cathy grabbed the silver 'fuct tape' from Dave then he walked me over to where we were before. This time at least I could see the battle, from all fours, but I try to look on the positive side of things. The girls quickly wrapped their legs tightly together in duct tape, and then almost by silent agreement the two wrapped the arms that faced each other in duct tape so they could complete their duel. "This is the one you are going to lose, you know I could let you out of this?" Cathy offered sweetly to her rival. "Yeah, I don't think so." Delilah had no intention of trusting Cathy as the two lay side by side preparing for what may be the final round of their competition. "Just that you know, if you want to go double or nothing?" Cathy huffed. "Double or nuthin? Like what?" Delilah was being catty and not really interested. "Just we could make it interesting. You win the next round and we'll skip the panties entirely. I'll be your little puppy bitch until Chris comes home and for an hour afterwards I will offer to ride his dick like it has never been ridden before. I will beg for it!" Cathy was quite sure of herself as she made the promise. "You would like that too much," Delilah snubbed the bet. "Well, okay I will throw in Dave too. You can have him until Friday as your little bitch." Dave seemed like he was going to say something but I kicked him with my leg to warn him to mind his place and he remained silent. "I don't want him, besides my Aunt would have my hide if I tried to bring him inside." Delilah rejected that offer too. "You don't have to keep him overnight. You can return him to his house when you are done making him clean and play house. I can even help you come up with fun things for him to do to keep him busy and amuse you if you aren't creative enough to think of something." Cathy smiled in that 'I just ate the canary' way that was all too familiar. "So let's say you lose, then what?" Delilah wasn't quite biting on the line but she was nibbling. "Then I will skip the panties and the jeans and go straight to being a nasty little pet like Jamie. It wouldn't be the first time I've done it," Cathy purred. I wondered what she meant by that. Had the great Cathy Griffin ever been on the receiving end of someone's taunts and blackmails? When my father was under my mom's control, I remember her freaking out over him having pictures of her on his computer. She seemed to think that it might be us trying to blackmail her. Then when her brothers set us all up and engineered my car accident, I got the impression there was something between her and her brothers. How could she be so twisted and domineering if she had to be a good little obedient slut like me at home? I didn't have the heart to even kick Dave in the back of the leg when he was about to open his mouth and get himself in trouble again. This whole training has completely emptied me of the ambition of being assistant shift manager at a Dairy Freeze, much less dominating anyone like we did Chris and Dad. I was becoming more and more like my mom. My mind was wandering and pondering a thousand possibilities when I should have been listening to the girls talking. "If you done did this before, then it ain't no thang to you, but see that ain't quite fair because my brothers are here and they won't be kind if I lose." "Nah, we will!" Gordon promised with a smirk. "You know payback can be a real bitch though?" Delilah teased her brother with an edge of menace to her voice. "Okay, so what do you want if you win this next round?" Cathy asked. "Do you even got panties on?" Delilah asked skeptically. "Yes, of course I do." Cathy confirmed that fact by lifting up her uniform skirt and revealing her black spanks underneath. "I mean you got real panties on underneath them shorts or whatever they is?" Delilah said while lying next to her opponent. "Yeah, I do and so?" Cathy was getting annoyed. "You ever watch WWE?" Before Cathy could answer that she had no idea what they were talking about, the Waxerman boys began to jeer "Diva Battle Royale!" and "Jillian Hall versus Mickie James!" "Woot!" Dave pumped his fist in approval before receiving a cold stare from both girls that let him know to stop it. "You and me, in one final battle, winner takes it all. We wrestle right here in the grass, and the first girl to pull the others clothes completely off is the winner of it." "Does that mean if I win, I get to own you for a week like precious Dave-heart here?" Cathy was intrigued. "Only if my aunt won't find out," Delilah offered. "That would cost you. You see, there might be bruises and marks because I play a little rough." Cathy was thrilled at the stakes being increased. "That ain't nothing. My brothers and I wrassle all the time. She wouldn't notice that. I mean I don't have ta be naked at home, except when it's time for changing, enemas, and bath." "You get naked in front of your aunt and she gives you enemas?" Cathy had a new appreciation for her jealous little rival. "Yeah, but my brothers get theirs in another room, so it's not that bad." Delilah replied casually. "You will have to ask to get yours at the same time with your brothers, but we can agree to two weeks if you lose and one week of me being your slave if I lose." Cathy smiled. "I don't know about taking my enema in front of my brothers. That is a little more than I can do," Delilah was backing down. "Honey, are you worried about your brothers seeing you do something nasty? They are going to be here when you get down on your hands and knees and beg Chris to put his balls on your forehead and teabag you anyway," Cathy promised. "Oh you are so sure of yourself? How come then you will only do it for one week if you lose?" Delilah demanded. "Well because I don't have the same worry that you do. My parents are completely whipped and don't dare cross me. They won't have a problem with you sleeping over if you want to keep an eye on me. I can be a very obedient and well behaved slave but I don't intend to lose so I will give you two full weeks," Cathy offered magnanimously. "Get the hose!" Delilah snapped her fingers and began wrestling with Cathy without warning adding "You are on, bitch!!" The two girls began to wrestle and fight just as they were; with one arm and one leg duct taped together. Delilah was already down to panties and all Cathy had to do was snare the white cotton things and pull them completely off. Cathy on the other hand was still wearing her shoes and miniskirt with spanks while the two struggled flesh to flesh in the dirt. Delilah demanded her brothers spray the grass near the cement with water from the hose as the two girls wrestled into it. The cement was hard and gritty. I still had pebbles in my back from the rough spots. However, the grass was getting soft and sticky from the brown mud created by the boys spraying the girls with water. They mostly hugged as the two of them fought at the wrists for control over the other. A stray hand would slap the other girl or pull a big handful of hair as the two wrestled to strip the other. Delilah head-butted Cathy really hard and while she was stunned grabbed her mini skirt waist band and tore it. Their duct tape had become loose enough and water-logged from the drizzling water that it was easy for them to flip on top of one another. The boys were cheering them on like a rowdy group of wrestling fans screaming out for their favorite Wrestle-mania Diva. Dave was excited by the sport of the thing and I couldn't tell if he was rooting for his Mistress or hoping she got her face slammed into the mud. As the ground became slippery and started to coat their bare bodies, the girls had to give up trying to lock hands around each other's wrists and moved quickly to struggling for each other's arms and then getting grabby with each other's boobs. I couldn't believe how snooty Cathy and Delilah could both be but, at the same time, how willing they were to humiliate themselves if in the process they could humiliate someone else even more. Their hair was now coated in mud and it looked like tiny bits of melted milk chocolate coated their intertwined bodies. Delilah's panties were riding up in her ass crack and were pulled up in the front but were hanging on despite many attempts by Cathy to rip or pull them. Cathy wasn't using a strategy to get them off in a direction. She was just wildly pulling them up or to the side in the hopes that would tear and pull off. Delilah controlled their legs by locking them up and, inch by inch, slid off Cathy's skirt until it was just a shredded mess of fabric. I knew Cathy's parents were loaded and it wouldn't cost her anything to replace it but the goody-two shoes inside made me feel a little guilty to see them ruined this way. The guys cheering egged on the two girls to fight like banshees –clawing, pulling, biting, slapping, twisting, and kneeing they did everything but punch like two men. Then Delilah punched Cathy right in the tit. Cathy responded by lobbing a solid fist to Delilah's abdomen and knocking the wind out of her with her free hand. The two girls were tangled together in a rough knock-down drag out chick-battle. The guys were enjoying what they were seeing but it was starting to scare me. I started to wonder who would win. Delilah was a country girl who wrestled with her brothers but they were smaller than she was. Cathy, on the other hand, was wiry and athletic and who knows what her older brothers had done to make her so sadistic and cruel. I would not find out who would win between the two. At the climax of the clash between these two brutal bitches, I heard the glass door slide open. ------- Chapter 27: Sometimes Fucked, Sometimes Punished, Sometimes Both. Note to reader: The story returns to its original narrative format. CASH EARNINGS WEDNESDAY WENDY: $0 JAMIE: $0 The laughter and jeering had all but subsided, leaving just the soft rustling sound of Delilah continuing to struggle with Cathy to fill the silence. The two nearly naked girls wrestled in the mud for dominance over the other, oblivious to their larger audience. The Duct tape had become soggy and water-logged so that their legs could slide around as rivlets of mud and garden hose water dripped down. Delilah continued slowly working Cathy's panties down the blonde's legs. The two were unaware of the eerie quiet that had fallen over the yard. Delilah was already beginning to think about the disgusting things she was going to make this upstart of a bitch do for having been such a bitch to her. She also was going to get a small amount of pleasure in giving her new crush, Chris, a bit of payback to the bitch who had made life so miserable for him. The silver-haired gentleman who had marched into the backyard commanded everyone's attention by his quiet presence. He was dressed in an unassuming and simple business suit but he carried himself with a self-confidence that instantly commanded respect. "Grandfather!!" Cathy quit struggling and cried out when she finally realized that no one was cheering on the fight and looked up from the muddy grass where she had been fighting. She immediately recognized the silver-headed old man standing there as her rich grandfather, whom everyone else knew as Mr. Bitterman. "Oh, so it's Grandfather now, is it?" The man's face flashed his displeasure at the young girl. "I only hear you call me that when you want something," he finished. Delilah had stop pawing at her opponent's muddy, bare breasts and stared along with everyone else at the composed elder gentleman staring down at the two of them. She had managed to rip off Cathy's panties in the last few seconds before they both realized they had a new visitor watching them. Cathy sprung to her feet quickly with no attempt to hide her cleanly shaven slit and bare, strawberry pink nipples. "I can explain this," Cathy offered innocently but with the passion of sudden and real concern that her world might be coming to an end. "It has already been explained to me," Mr. Bitterman recalled the coffee he shared when Wendy had told him the entire sordid story of how Cathy had taken over the family's lives. He had remained silent when she mentioned his grandchildren's involvement in this escapade in order to investigate it himself. "I am looking forward to your explanation for why you have been made sole manager of the trust fund I had set up for my lay-about son-in-law?" "Daddy's trust fund?" Cathy played coy. "Your manipulations may work on lesser men but I assure you a tear or a wink is about as useful right now as glasses to the blind. I am also curious about why you were wrestling with this girl. Was this another of your wicked little games?" Mr. Bitterman stood in front of the two dripping wet and muddy girls as if he were a drill sergeant about to deliver the dressing down of a lifetime. "What is your name, dear-heart?" Mr. Bitterman addressed Delilah after she had gotten to her feet and begun wiping off some of the mud from her backside. "Delilah Waxerman sir, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," Delilah said in her country accent but with an immediate desire not to come off as a country bumpkin. Her chest was still heaving from the effort of the wrestling match but she stood up straight and didn't try to hide her nudity. Bitterman had a soft aura of sobriety to him, the way a policeman projects when he pulls you over and gives you a ticket. When the policeman shines his light on you, if you've only had a few drinks you start to fight against the intoxication you had been more than willing to succumb to only minutes earlier. "It is entirely your business whether you put your clothes on or not. I don't mean to keep you out here like this. However, if I may ask, has my granddaughter perhaps offered you some sort of bribe or dare, or perhaps made a bet with you?" he probed. Cathy looked positively shocked. Delilah looked at Cathy and it was unclear whether she felt sorry for the scared teenager or if she just didn't want to offend Mr. Bitterman further. She was still pissed at Cathy for how she treated her like an ignorant country bumkin just because of her accent, but she lived by her own set of rules. To her, you always solved your problems with the fellow teen that you were fighting with against any adult and then take care of business one on one later. Because of that moral code, she told him a lie, "No, we was just having a little fun. It was nothing." "Really? From the looks of things, if there had been a wager involved, judging from the fact that you have on at least a modicum of clothing and my granddaughter is completely naked, I would assume you would have won it. If she owed you something, I would have made sure she paid her debt completely and diligently." Mr. Bitterman looked at a now shaking Cathy with the implied threat that her shenanigans were now completely over. Cathy, for her part, was staring daggers back at her grandfather but refused to open her mouth in apparent fear of saying something to upset the businessman. "Uh, naw, it was just a friendly little match," Delilah reluctantly relinquished her victory over the other girl and proceeded to demand her brothers climb the tree in the Taylor backyard and "Get down every one of my clothes you threw up there and right now!" "May I get dressed too, Grandfather?" Cathy asked in an uncharacteristically contrite tone. "No, I don't think so." Bitterman's words were slow and deliberate, like someone who held every card in the deck. There was no doubt that tone that had served him well in the boardrooms of his many businesses. "There are still some people out here that I would like to meet. Besides, you didn't seem to have a problem getting yourself into this situation." Cathy gave him a hesitant look as if waiting for him to reconsider before she finally answered "Yes Grandfather." "Well, you must be the football player that I've heard so much about. Are you going to play for State next year young man?" Bitterman walked over to where Jamie and Dave Stravosky had been watching the match play out. The hulking high school athlete stood frozen, like a deer in headlights, as if in awe of a man half his size and more than twice his age. Dave was barely dressed in women's panties, lipstick and a half-bustier that showed off his well-defined, hairless chest. "I was thinking of going to Arizona actually," Dave stammered. "Oh that is a pity. I could probably have made some calls if you were planning to attend my Alma mater. You would have found pledging a particular fraternity ... interesting. Their initiation rituals for incoming freshman would probably not phase you, given your particular state of dress." Mr. Bitterman hinted gingerly around Dave's costume. He waited for a response from Dave but aside from a visible erection starting to plump the satin panties he wore, there was nothing but awkward silence. "I take it my granddaughter put you in this particular state of undress?" Mr. Bitterman asked. "Yes sir, this was not my idea. I am definitely not queer!" Dave's denial was so insincere that it almost made the elderly man chuckle while Jamie had to stifle a full out laugh. "No one is saying that you are. I assume that the words written with lipstick on your forehead were something she made you write under duress." Bitterman considered the high school senior waiting for an answer. He paused for an answer and waited until he was sure no answer was forthcoming before offering, "If my granddaughter made you walk here in that and nothing else, I am afraid I don't have any spare clothing to offer you to dress in. However, I am assuming that you've become tangled in some sort of blackmail web designed by my granddaughter here. What does she have on you, son?" Dave stammered again and looked at Cathy for guidance that wasn't coming. He couldn't tell from her facial expression what she expected him to do and, truth be told, he didn't want to piss her off any more than she already was at him. "I know it is probably embarrassing to be dragged around, dressed like you are, and I can't make you tell me what she has over you, however, I could arrange to have it returned to you if you like. You have nothing to fear from my granddaughter any longer. I will take the situation into hand, so to speak." Mr. Bitterman said confidently while ignoring Cathy's facial pleas. From the look on Cathy's face, she had to be taking stock of all the webs of deceit she had built and seeing them crumble in her mind. She looked as if she was wondering if all the alliances she had made to control people through their lustful desire of power over others or their indiscretions (or both) would be coming to an end. "Grandfather, please can we talk about this first?" Cathy's offer was dismissed outright before she could even say it all. She gave an exasperated sigh of frustration followed by a scowling sour expression across her slightly freckled face that was focused on her grandfather. "Well, I've nothing to keep you here young man, and if you won't reveal to me the blackmail she has on you so that I can do something about it then I would just recommend that you go ask Mr. Taylor if perhaps he has something you could wear home." Mr. Bitterman turned his attention back to Cathy and asked, "I assume you have the key someplace for the chain you've attached to this young man's testicles?"" "No, it's at home," she pouted. "I believe you should start addressing me as Sir, young lady. You have no doubt made these people grovel at your feet and address you in a form of respect to establish that you are their better and that they should not be on such a familiar basis with you, have you not?" Bitterman's request was not a formality; it was definitely an order. "Yes Sir," Cathy's eyes seethed with rage although she directed her gaze at Dave and not her grandfather. "I really apologize about this," Mr. Bitterman offered to Dave, "My driver is out in front of the house. He can take you to a hotel suite in the limo until I have located the key to free you. Just go and have a seat in the car." Dave was so ready to be let off the hook that he started to move before realizing that the other end of his chain was still clipped to Jamie's dog collar. Jamie gave a little squeal of surprise as she was pulled off balance when Dave turned to leave. "Bend down and unclip that leash, won't you Cathy?" Mr. Bitterman directed Cathy and she dutifully obeyed. "Delilah, if you've about retrieved all your clothes from the tree, you and your brothers are free to follow Dave to the limo. I am sure they can drop you off any place you would like to go." "That is right neighborly of you, sir," Delilah had just about finished putting on the clean, dry clothes she had worn over to the Taylors onto her muddy body. "That is the least I can do. Are you quite sure that my granddaughter owes you nothing? She may be a Griffin, but she will pay her debts like a Bitterman." "Well, to be quite honest, your granddaughter rubbed me the wrong way when we first met," Delilah said truthfully. "But aside from watching her stick this here rake handle straight up her ass, I really couldn't want nothin' from her." Delilah added as she joked about the rake handle she had been using to fish down her clothes from the tree with her brothers. Mr. Bitterman looked at his granddaughter patiently as if he was giving a silent instruction to the resisting young heiress. "Grandfath ... Sir?" Cathy swallowed hard as she corrected herself mid-sentence to call Bitterman by his newly outlined term of respect. "I believe you heard her?" Mr. Bitterman asked rhetorically. "Oh I was just kidding about the rake," Delilah exclaimed in surprise. It had taken Delilah an extra few seconds to understand that her joke was being taken seriously. A few minutes earlier, she would have thought nothing of actually shoving it up the girl's ass just for spite. However, she had spent years seeing her aunt as an authority figure and being taught to always respect her elders with something akin to awe. Besides, there was something about Bitterman that made her just as reserved around him as she was around her aunt. Cathy started to walk over to Delilah and take the rake slowly from her hand. "Sir? Are you serious?" she asked hoping that her grandfather would change his mind. "My dear, do you not know by now when I am joking or being serious?" Mr. Bitterman's face read that he was not the least bit joking. Even the Waxerman boys stopped playing in the trees long enough to watch Cathy lower the thin rake handle under her bare ass and hold it there while she bent down on it, touching the very tip of the rake against the rosette of her asshole nub between her asscheeks. "Cathy, ask the young lady how far you can put the rake handle up your rear so that she would be satisfied?" Mr. Bitterman said firmly. "Delilah, how far do I have to put this up my butt?" Cathy stared at her grandfather with a look that showed just a hint of anger and rebellion as she asked the question. "Oh that is not proper at all, I am sure you will want to show proper respect when you try to offer amends to someone as sweet as Delilah here apparently is. At least she has manners," Mr. Bitterman corrected. "Ma'am, how far may I shove this rake handle up my ass to please you?" Cathy had made students, teachers and her own family say things like this often enough that she knew exactly what sounded more fitting, but she did still have just a hint of suppressed hostility in her voice. "Well," Delilah put her finger on her lip as if estimating before deciding "As far up your rotten, little ass as it will go." That line caused laughter to fall from the tree like leaves as the Waxerman boys howled. "Why do you hesitate, dear Cathy, given your proclivity for wickedness? Am I to assume this is the first time you've had anything put up your ass?" Mr. Bitterman glared at the naked girl who was resting her sphincter on a rake handle, one that had actually been up Jamie's ass a time or two before actually. "No Sir, this isn't the first time I had anything up there, but can I at least have a little lube first?" Cathy asked with a trace of defiance in her voice. "So you want some lube?" Mr. Bitterman sounded amused. "Yes Sir," Cathy's response sounded like she already knew she would be denied. "How does it feel to want?" he delivered a verbal blow that made everyone, even Jamie, laugh. Cathy reluctantly started to drive herself down on the 2-inch diameter wooden rake handle. Without preparing her asshole for penetration, it was obvious it was going to be difficult and painful. "I am a fair man. Delilah, if you don't mind, could my granddaughter first masturbate herself on the rake and get it wet before she sticks it straight up her conniving ass for you?" Mr. Bitterman asked as if he had just rolled down the window of his Bentley and asked for Grey Poupon Mustard. "Oh sure, that would be fine. I reckon since she seems like such a tight ass anyway," Delilah quickly agreed with a laugh and a humorous barb at Cathy's expense. "Sir, please?" Cathy was very reluctant to fuck the handle of the rake into her pussy, but when he did not acknowledge her pleas, she moved her ass off the tip of the rake and squatted over it with her legs spread wide, hiding nothing from anyone's view and rode the handle like a dick. At first, she thrust it herself down on it gingerly before bending her knees to bounce up and down on it with determination. The strawberry blonde cheerleader and part-time mastermind was now reduced to a humiliated, naked slut fucking herself on a yard tool in front of her former victims, adversary, and others to their amusement and laughter. "I take it from the hardness of your nipples that you've sufficiently painted the handle with your juices now, young lady. While I am sure you are enjoying yourself immensely, now get on with it," Mr. Bitterman's sarcasm was subtle as he added, "I've a tight schedule to keep." Cathy stopped fucking herself and stared daggers at her grandfather as she reached back to return the now slick rake to her asshole. Using a finger to help her insert it into her asshole, she began to drive herself backwards, anus-first, onto the wooden tip of the rake handle with a groan. Cathy's face read that she might not be sure how, but someone would pay dearly for making her do this. "Mr. Stravosky, I appreciate you remaining. Would you be kind enough to make sure the rake is sufficiently far enough up my granddaughter's ass that it has gone as far as it can go?" Cathy held up her hand before Dave could make it to where she was and backed herself down hard onto the rake with a gasp. There was little doubt it was 'as far as it could go.' Bitterman finally acknowledged the blonde, beautiful girl who had been on her hands and knees at the tree in doggy position. "You must be the dutiful Jamie Taylor I've heard so much about. You don't have to remain in that position just because Cathy told you to," he suggested. Jamie was conflicted. Her father had told her to obey Cathy and that order had been simple to follow; stay at the tree on all fours and wait. Now that things had changed so drastically in the backyard, she wasn't sure what to do. Making a decision, she stood up, dusted off the dirt from her knees, and thanked Mr. Bitterman. "Oh, no need to thank me," He drank in the teenager's crisp and pert nipples decorated with sizable silver rings. It was the first thing you noticed on the beautiful and fit teen after the angelic blue-eyes and soft face. "I take it that the tattoo on your rear was at the behest of my granddaughter?" He asked her softly. "No sir, that was my own idea." Unlike the others who had lied to minimize their own humiliation at participating in these wicked games or to let Cathy off the hook, that was a true statement. "A pity. I know a fine tattoo artist in the naval district of the city who could have given my granddaughter an epic tattoo or removed yours for you," Bitterman said. "Thank you, sir, but I don't hold any ill feelings towards your granddaughter." Jamie was an eternal optimist and very forgiving but even she did not sound so sure of that statement. "Why? My granddaughter is clearly a wicked manipulator who delighted in raking you over the coals. I've heard the entire story from your mother and, rest assured, she and her deviant brothers will be dealt with for their parts in this, that is if they still value their inheritance." A look over Bitterman's shoulder at his grunting granddaughter hopping from foot to foot while the others jeered at her told him she did indeed value it. "Well, maybe you are right." Jamie agreed and added "But, I would be just as bad as her if I took pleasure in her discomfort." That admission showed she didn't want to make the same mistake she had with her father and brother when they were under her dominion. "You are a good person, Jamie Taylor," Mr. Bitterman declared and before she could thank him for the flattery, he added, "which is why it breaks my heart to foreclose on your house on Friday." Jamie's jaw dropped open. Mr. Bitterman had just been so generous to Dave and the Waxermans. This came as a complete shock to the system that he was going to take her family house. "I can see from your face that your father probably hasn't told you about it. The bank has been in the process of recovering the home since my granddaughter here bought the mortgage and liens against your house. I am afraid because of where it is at in the legal process that there is really nothing I can do to stop it." "Let's go inside and have a talk with your father," Mr. Bitterman said. He wouldn't be moved by Cathy's crocodile tears of contrition but he could not stand to see that beautiful face of Jamie's start to well up with sadness at the revelation that, despite all the of her and her mother's efforts, they were going to lose the house anyway. Bitterman shuffled the Waxerman kids and Dave through the Taylor house and into his waiting limousine out in front of the house. This left him with two naked teenage girls with one of them having a rake protruding from her ass standing next to him while he addressed Bill Taylor. "Hello Mr. Bitterman, I see you told Jamie?" Bill got to his feet and offered a handshake to him. Had he not spent the last few weeks dominating his wife and daughter, he might have been very shocked to see Cathy Griffin standing in front of him still flecked with mud and dripping wet hair, in the nude, trailing a rake handle sticking out of her ass behind her. As it was, he barely acknowledged the girl who started to shiver under the ice-cold air conditioning vent. "Yes, I told her what I told you. This is something that is out of my hands to resolve. The bank will seize your home on Friday. It was all I could do to let you keep your truck," He answered wistfully. "So all our work turning tricks was for nothing?" Jamie's voice cracked in sadness. "We lose the house?" "I should think not, young lady. From what your mother told me, you both seemed to have learned the value of working together. A lesson I would trade my vast fortune for my family to learn. That one lesson would prevent the seeds of backbiting and indiscretion, not to mention devious manipulation, to find fertile ground in which to grow," Mr. Bitterman explained as he gave a glaring look at Cathy. Cathy looked like she could chew nails as she glared at her grandfather. There was obviously a silent interchange going on between them that neither Bill nor Jamie missed. "I would think that you will need that money to find a new place, perhaps hire a bankruptcy attorney to fight any liens for student loans, IRS tax payments or any other debts you may have. I'd offer you my best attorney, but unfortunately it was my grandson Jarrod's law firm and, as of today, he is no longer in business," Mr. Bitterman continued regretfully. "Please Sir. I would do anything." Jamie really meant that and, given everything she had gone through in the last few weeks, there was nothing she was not prepared to do. She instantly realized how sexual her offer sounded and quickly added on "Perhaps you could give my dad or my mom a job?" because she was afraid of offending Mr. Bitterman. "I wish I could, but after many years of running businesses I no longer make my money the old-fashioned way. I don't have any factories or retail stores any longer. I make money on the money I already have. I know it sounds ludicrous, doesn't it? People manage my accounts and use those investments to make me even richer." Mr. Bitterman laughed but let it trail off when he saw the broken-hearted girl. "I don't mean to pry into your business but can you tell me why Cathy is dragging my rake through my den?" Bill seized the awkward pause to ask about the naked girl who had been such a persistent and controlling force in their lives. "Well, it's only YOUR den until Friday," Mr. Bitterman laughed at his own joke before adding "Sorry, that was in poor taste. After I clean up Cathy's mess here for all the trouble she has caused, I think I will send her to Eastman Academy for girls." Cathy instantly recognized the name even though the Taylors had never heard of it. Bill assumed it was some hoity-toity finishing school but judging from the gasp on Cathy's face he knew there was something more to it. "Tell him about Eastman Academy. I am sure you know all about the course of study there," Bitterman instructed Cathy. "Please don't send me there, Sir! I will be good from now on, I promise!" Cathy winced. "Oh nonsense, it was good enough for your mother, and it was good enough for my wife, God bless her soul. It is good enough for you if it was good enough for them," Mr. Bitterman replied coldly. "The Eastman Academy is a finishing school for girls run by the Freemasons," Cathy explained. Mr. Bitterman continued where she left off "It produces well behaved wives for Senators, wealthy business men, and powerful world leaders. Naturally, once they become wealthy and powerful, they in turn have bratty and unruly daughters so the expectation is that they send them to the academy to get straightened out and continue the cycle. It is the obligation that if you marry a graduate of the academy, you will return the favor and send a legacy back." He chuckled. "You've spent more than enough time on Mr. Taylor's rake. How about you return it to him, Cathy?" She looked at him incredulously as if wondering perhaps if an inheritance, even one the size of his enormous personal wealth, would be worth this humiliation. The answer came as she slid off the rake and, at his insistence, cleaned it off with her mouth. "You see Eastman teaches girls to be submissive to the man and cater to his needs. She learns to cook, clean, run a household, and be a domestic goddess. She learns to entertain guests and move with class through the upper echelons at country clubs and expensive restaurants. However, they also teach the first year students how to behave sexually, to put the pleasure of their husband before their own and to clean their own messes." Mr. Bitterman didn't have to explain the metaphor as Cathy begrudgingly licked her own ass juices off the wooden rake before presenting it to Bill. "Your mother did exceptionally well at taking orders and behaving herself and she would have made a fine mother had her first marriage not ended in divorce. Her current husband is a jellyfish with no grit or backbone. He is one of those liberal hippy types who thinks everything can be solved by passing more regulation and growing the government agencies into a nanny state. It is no small wonder that Cathy was able to supplant him as the man of the house and her mother, being naturally inclined to be obedient, just went along with it. Is that what happened dear-heart?" he asked his granddaughter. "Yes Sir, there is a lot more to it than that, but as far as Mummy and Daddy, I suppose you are right. She didn't object to the arrangement we've had," Cathy admitted. "I see how you could get away with this at home, but how were you able to apply this to the students at your high school?" Mr. Bitterman asked an increasingly uncomfortable Cathy. "You know it occurs to me that your daughter looked so much more submissive from the floor on her knees, Mr. Taylor. Cathy, be a dear and get down on your hands and knees like a puppy." Cathy slowly went to her knees and got into the position as instructed. "It pains me to have to use vulgar displays like this to put someone in their place but I feel that Cathy is no stranger to people being placed in awkward positions." Cathy said nothing at her Grandfather's explanation of his feelings about putting her through this. Jamie looked at her father. She was standing up and still naked while Bill was the only one remaining seated at his computer table. He was so defeated that he was losing his house that he wasn't sure he still had the right to demand anything of his daughter. "You should probably get on all fours too, my dear. I think misery loves company." Mr. Bitterman intervened on Bill's behalf and offered Jamie the instruction of what to do with herself that she seemed to be waiting for. She dutifully joined Cathy on all fours with palms down on the carpet but could not look over and meet Cathy's gaze. Even as powerless as Cathy seemed, she still made Jamie uneasy. "So, you were about to admit how you managed to carry off your escapade at school," Bitterman reminded his granddaughter. "There has been a cheerleader spirit club, the S-club for decades, Sir. It started as an official school function. A spirit girl is assigned to a Senior starting player. She makes banners for him, carries his books to his locker, brings him cookies. That sort of thing. Then a few enthusiastic girls who were willing to boost team spirits by having sex with the guy they got assigned started a new tradition, one of being a team slut. They established rules to join and initiations. Once you were in their circle you became one of the most popular girls in school. Over time, the club became more infamous and developed its own rituals and rules. My brothers were all high school jocks and they were all on the receiving end of the benefits of membership. They graduated while I was still a freshman but it was long enough for me to see how the S-club game was played." Cathy swallowed hard to continue her story. "I see, and then you usurped leadership and ran the club in the most twisted and demented fashion." Mr. Bitterman had her measure. "Yes sir, some girls wanted the popularity and wanted to join. The ones who were reluctant could be bribed or blackmailed. Jamie Taylor was such a goodie-goodie that I couldn't find enough to interest or blackmail her to really do that but as you can see all things come to those who wait." "Disgusting, I am really disappointed in you Cathy. You will just love scrubbing the floor in Eastman Hall. You'll do it much like you are, on your knees and naked as each girl finishes her gruel," he warned. Mr. Bitterman was about to continue to extol the virtues of the elite finishing school and how it turned almost any young girl into a prized wife, if one had the personal backbone to keep her in line when Chris walked through his front door. "Hidey Ho!" He waved and walked into the den. The sight of two naked female butts on the floor kneeling didn't shock him in the slightest. "I recognize my sister's caboose any place, but who is this other lovely..." Chris was about to ask when he approached and saw the stern face of Cathy Griffin attached to the other body. He noticed her strawberry blonde hair caked with dried bits of mud and her very red, puffy asshole sandwiched between those luscious ginger cheeks. He was instantly aroused. He had been developing a secret crush on her since she ran him around the Babies R Us weeks earlier. "Hello Sir, yes laugh it up," Cathy sounded particularly disappointed that Chris had joined the little group at the computer desk. Mr. Bitterman offered his hand as he introduced himself to Chris. "I am sorry if my granddaughter's behavior caused you any concern. I was just commending your father for taking charge of things around here. If I had done the same, perhaps Cathy would not have been so out of control." "Yeah, it is pretty cool." Chris kicked his sister's ass with his foot playfully. "They are a lot of trouble and it eats up a lot of my time to keep them under control and motivated but they are paying the bills," he joked. "Well, I can tell you are joking about the responsibility associated with the authority you now have," Mr. Bitterman agreed and then added "But I am sorry to inform you that you probably won't be able to pay ALL of the bills. You see, on Friday, the bank will seize your house." Bitterman briefly explained to a stunned Chris the same thing he had told Jamie and Bill earlier. "So what are we going to do?" Chris asked his father. "I don't know," Bill sounded like he had three weeks earlier when he was indecisive and lacking confidence. "Could we live at Rahjid's motel?" Chris asked his father. "We can't keep making your sister and mom work! They were trying to pay for my trip to the forum user's group. Now we can't even afford to put a roof over our heads," Bill was all out of solutions and now he was in panic mode. "I am sure you will figure something out," Mr. Bitterman said as he removed a cell phone from his coat pocket and answered a call. "My driver is awaiting me outside. He has finished dropping off your guests. If you will excuse us?" Mr. Bitterman didn't wait for a response as he began prodding his granddaughter to crawl through the living room of the Taylor house. "I have to go out in the yard like this, Sir?" Cathy asked incredulously. "Oh don't be such a big BABY, something tells me the neighbors won't be too awfully shocked. However, you may want to hustle once you hit the door. It's quite a crawl from the door to the driveway," He laughed and tipped a finger in salute to the Taylor family. Cathy mumbled to Chris in passing not to share this at school but was quickly whisked past him and out the door into the grassy lawn to crawl her way to her Grandfather's limo. "I am so sorry Jamie. I really fucked up bad," Bill admitted to his daughter. "Why don't you get some clothes out of the slut box and we'll go pick up your mom? I am sorry these are all the clothes you have. I didn't save anything a little more conservative but I promise we'll use what money you earned to get you some proper panties and bras." Jamie stood up confused and bewildered by her father's instructions. She didn't want to believe this was happening. The feeling of losing the house was like when you realize something has been stolen from you and you want to check where you last saw it to make sure it's really gone. "Dad, why are you giving up? We have come so far." Chris was completely confused as well. His dad's confidence had gone out the window and now he was feeling it too. "You don't understand. Once we lose the house then we lose the computer, internet, access to clean showers, and all that. So how do I get a job and become a breadwinner if I am living out of my truck? Once we start to live at Rahjid's motel, we'll be just like any of those other people who cannot claw their way out of the mire they are in. How can we expect your mom and sister to go through all this discipline and whore themselves out? It could take months for us to be able to afford a place and even longer for me to find a real job. You know this economy." "Yeah, I see your point, but then what do we do on Friday?" Chris asked. "Look, I don't know what we will do. All I know is that we aren't going to the forum user's group on Friday. That is completely off now. We have to be realistic. This has been a big adventure and all but it's time to let your sister and mom off the hook and just buckle down." Bill sounded completely uncertain and worried. "Yeah, I guess you are right. I've felt somewhat guilty about how we've been treating them lately. We got our payback. I don't think it's fair. Let's go get Mom." Jamie put on her clothes and the guys didn't inspect her for the first time in weeks. She rode in the 'hump' between the men inside the truck cabin and was considerably grateful not having to ride tits down and ass up for the first time in weeks as well. They didn't speak about what had just happened.Occasionally Bill nervously turned the radio on and off to quench the silence. Meanwhile in Mr. Bitterman's Limousine, after dropping off their passengers: "You did very well, slut." Mr. Bitterman said with his arms folded comfortably in the back of his limousine. "Thank you Master, I live to be your obedient slut," Cathy Griffin hungrily took the full measure of her grandfather's hard cock into the back of her throat with the skilled practice of an accomplished street whore. He tousled her strawberry-blonde locks with his fingers while she serviced his dick on her knees in front of him. She was still completely naked but now wearing a custom-made chrome collar with the word "Vixen" embossed into it. "You are a very naughty little bitch, but you suck dick exactly like your grandmother," Bitterman breathed out a satisfied moan while leaning back in his chair. "I should. She taught me." Cathy's piercing eyes stared up at her Grandfather before returning to delicately cock worshipping the hairy balls of her grandfather, trainer, and master. "Well, God bless her soul. That is one the old slut knew how to do well. Did I ever tell you of the time I dropped her off at the USO to suck every single serviceman before he shipped off to Vietnam that night?" "Yes Master, on your wedding night" Cathy was lounging his balls and staring up at him lovingly. "Yes, that is right. I was really a complete bastard back then. I had almost forgotten it was right after the reception in the Hamptons. It had been so enjoyable turning her from a wealthy, stuck up brat into a complete and utter whore right in front of her parents with them knowing I would inherit all of their money after they passed on." Cathy continued to slurp and suck. She had stuck a finger from her free hand down between her juicy pussy lips and began to quietly frig herself. "I don't think I told you that you could masturbate." Mr. Bitterman noticed right away and goose bumps appeared on Cathy's neck as her arousal grew and she could do nothing to relieve herself. She took her finger away from the forbidden fruit between her loins quickly. "Please Master? I did so good today, did I not? I was a good vixen?" Cathy's question was a pleading cry for a reassurance. "For the most part that is true. The Taylor's think that you engineered this entire thing with their house and will look to me to solve their little money problem and keep them from being homeless. Naturally, I will be reluctant and empathetic until I am sure they've reached rock bottom and then I will begin phase two." "What is phase two, Master?" Cathy pleaded with her grandfather as she kissed along the vein at the bottom of his semi-flaccid dick. Bitterman yanked a handful of Cathy's hair and she yelped. "You should know by now, my dear, that you will be told as much as you need to know, when you need to know it! Don't think I forgot how poorly you did against the country girl in the backyard. Were you trying to lose that bet?" He continued to hold her hair for leverage while she serviced his dick. "No sir! She was just really wiry and bony. I underestimated her strength. Please don't punish me!" Her eyes pleaded for her grandfather's mercy. "Oh save the act, I know you love pain as much as your mother. You did a very convincing job of reluctantly accepting your cum-uppance at my hand. It was important to give the Taylor's a sense that they are now out of danger, at least from you. However, I think you were a little too eager when you were told to shove that rake in your pussy, weren't you?" Bitterman was in the habit of giving his granddaughter a compliment along with a backhanded judgment whenever he graded her performance. It seemed to drive the girl to try even harder for his unavailable complete acceptance. "I was surprised that was all you made me do in the backyard. I was hoping you would let Delilah have control over me for a while, or even that little faggot Dave Stravosky," Cathy purred while breathing heavy on the cock she had been caressing and loving on. "Always thinking of your own perverse pleasures!" Bitterman pulled tighter on her hair he had bunched up in his fist. "Now that the country girl is on my radar screen, I want to test out her capacity for sadism. I could see it in her eyes she might have the same demented passions you do," Bitterman looked very seriously at his granddaughter and added "You'll have a round two with her now that you've introduced yourself to her. You will pretend to want payback and pull her slowly into your little S-club circle like all your little friends at school." Cathy seemed disappointed "With all your money and power, why do you move so slowly and not just operate more openly?" "Face down, tits to the bottom of the limo, ass facing me!" Bitterman released her hair and ordered the girl to place her nose at the bottom of the limo so her pussy and ass were in his lap. She complied without hesitation knowing that he would begin pinching and twisting her clit as soon as she made it available to him. "It is easy to just buy a whore. I could buy a hundred of them an afternoon like some Charlie Sheen. Cash or cocaine is a simple motivation for them. It is much more satisfying at my age to savor the slow descent of the purely innocent into debauchery and wicked perversions and, in the process, to own them completely. It is like sniffing a fine brandy before consuming it. You want it to last forever." "I understand that Master, but my brothers and I were never like that," Cathy said from the uncomfortable position beneath her grandfather's feet. "I know. Your grandmother and I raised a family of slaves, dominants, and switches. They in turn raised their own kids the same way. Your mother was one of my best slaves. When I sold her to your father I thought he would make a suitable dominant but he turned out to be a jellyfish. It is just as well. I like to stretch his balls and make him watch when I fuck all of you. Speaking of which, Driver, where is the football player?" The limo driver discretely remarked without looking behind him "I dropped him off with your grandson, Heath." "Ah yes, Heath will no doubt tell him he is a locksmith and can remove the ball stretcher but will 'accidentally' break the lock. Take us there and after I've let him worry for a bit, I'll waltz in and act like his savior." "Do I have to continue to dominate him, Master?" Cathy asked while enduring Bitterman's sharp fingernails digging into the sensitive skin around her asshole and pussy lips. "You know I should probably start an Eastman Academy for girls and send you to it. You are too lippy!" "That was a really clever lie about that place, Master. I would miss you if you sent me away!" she cooed. "You would probably enjoy being abused and tossed around too much for me to have any satisfaction over sending you. To answer your question yes, you have to dominate the football player and all the people I tell you to. Don't for one minute try to fool me. I know you enjoy humiliating and dominating them. It is important you remain an authority figure to them! Your continued dominance over that school will determine your future inheritance." He slapped her ass and pulled her cheeks apart to spit directly on the red asshole. "Naturally, at first when we arrive to see the high school boy, I will appear to have you humbled and you my reluctant prisoner. After I leave and apparently have left you to your old ways, you will present David with his real options to serve, if he wants to continue to play football and not be a total laughing stock that is. I doubt you will have to try too hard. Just offer him your brother's cock and tell him he has to do it. He is the kind that wants to only if he feels he has no choice. It helps him with his feelings of guilt and embarrassment." "Like the Taylor girl?" Cathy asked "Like both the Taylor women," Bitterman responded. "Wouldn't you rather just pull his strings directly, Master?" Cathy groaned as he dug three fingers into her already sore asshole. "Why would I when I can pull your strings and you can pull his?" he smiled. ------- Chapter 28: Wendy's Journal: Family should be tight - like a butt hole Note to reader: This is Wendy's journal from Wednesday approximately 4pm before her husband and son arrive to inform her of their meeting with Mr. Bitterman. In order to increase readability, some of the dialogue exchanged was altered to appear in a 'narrative' story format. CASH EARNINGS WEDNESDAY WENDY: $40 JAMIE: $0 Any journal that begins with "I was sucking my second dick of the day," is probably going to seem a little strange. The strangest part to me was that it seemed almost routine to me. I had been walking up and down the street in broad daylight to honks and whistles and looky-loos who saw me wave back at them and had begun to completely accept this absurd situation. I guess I half expected someone to get out of their car and walk up to me wagging their finger and say "Wendy Taylor, you should not be out here. You don't belong out here. You march yourself back to your old life and go away from this nasty place". Instead, the reality of the situation was that I was dressed like a whore and acting like one on Martin Luther King blvd. where whores walk the streets and I just seemed like someone who belonged here – I had melded into the background of this seedy and disgusting side of town. The first dick I had sucked had belonged to the black man who bought that disgusting fish curry to feed to his dog. His dog shit on the carpet in our dingy cabana while I finished him off and I have to say I had barely noticed the smell. He offered no apology and didn't bother to clean up after his dog – he just paid and went on his way. It is my life's work to clean up other people (or dog's in this case) shit, isn't it? I suppose though I am up to my neck in this because of my own personal shit? I am the one who put Bill and Chris through the ringer and because of it Jamie is home doing lord knows what in the backyard and she'll be here shortly to work the streets with her whore of a mother. The second dick I just finished sucking was much harder to come by. I had actually got into a car this afternoon and the guy looked at me and became nervous and changed his mind. I should have been the one nervous – Anything could have happened to me in the car, what did this guy think I was going to do to him? Suck his dick off? Despite my attempt to be calming and assure him that it was okay, he became unreasonable and I gave up trying to build up his confidence – there is only so much begging a whore can do, right? Lol. (There I go putting Lol in my journal like a teenager, what is next? Emoticons perhaps?) He left me several miles from the motel and on my way back a little Taiwanese man pulled his truck over and let me in. He haggled with me about the twenty dollars and I told him I was allowed to jerk him off for ten but he wanted a blowjob. He wanted to do it without a condom and I told him I would but I was expected to use one. "Why you no suck dick without the condom, you like taste of latex?" he asked. I wanted to say that I didn't like the taste of his dirty little cum-filled egg roll between his legs either, but I just submissively smiled and said "I love the taste of cum, but I am not allowed to have it, Sir..." "Who will know if you break rule? I no tell anybody." He motioned to the dirty alley-way he had pulled into that no one was watching. "I have to bring the cum filled condom back when I turn in the money," I winked at him. A normal person might have thought that was weird and asked why I had to do that but he just pragmatically haggled "Okay fifteen dollar with condom on, or twenty dollar and you can spit my cum in condom – do what you want with it, final offer!" He was obviously not a normal person. Neither was I for that matter, I had gone from being a high powered senior vice president to sucking old men's dicks in alley ways for twenty dollars. I agreed to his terms and sucked him raw without a condom. He did taste exactly like soy sauce and lo-mein with a tiny dollop of sweat on his dirty little dick. He came in about two minutes of furious pumping up and down in the passenger seat of his truck. I smiled and spit the cum into an open condom and thanked him. He said nothing as he hurried me out of his truck and drove off. I was fortunate that Martin Luther King blvd is such a straight shot – because I might have become lost if there had been a lot of side streets. As it stood after walking past a few broken down apartment buildings and a Church's fried chicken I was back at the motel. This would not seem that unusual except I had a full condom in my mouth to return to Rahjid so that poor Devi Das could eat this afternoon. "Hey dare," Tiontay and his friends pulled up on me right before I made it to Rahjid's office. The sun was still high in the sky and it was broad daylight but there were very few people actually walking up and down the sidewalk. Homeless bums, other hookers and the occasional homeless hooker – I should not have been surprised that my friends from this morning were allowed to play so close to the highway. I nodded and mumbled hello to them. It amazes me how easily they seemed to accept my presence in their world – but then why would they question it? I am just another whore to them. "What you got in you mouth, bubba gum?" Dante's question came with the implication that I should share a piece with him. I nodded no and pointed that I needed to keep walking towards the office. "She so nasty, out hurr walken the street on dayshiff, and now she aint even going to share her bubba gum with us?" Nasty was particularly disappointed. "It's not bubb-o gum" I was surprisingly coherent as I mumbled to keep the cum-filled condom from spilling – it is all that practice talking with a gag in my mouth. "She gots money in her hand!" Tiontay noticed that I was clutching the folded up twenty dollar bill from my last trick. The outfit I had on didn't have any pockets and I wasn't carrying a purse so there wasn't too many places I could carry anything with me. I knew it was a risk to have the money in my hand but I hadn't expected to turn the trick so far away from the motel. He started to grab at my money but I shooed him off "Preez, that not mry monay" I stumbled over the words. "Boy, that's Rahjid money, he her pimp." Nasty was a child of the street and she knew the reality of what girls did out here for money well enough. I nodded in agreement and started walking towards theoffice while the boy's harassed and jumped around me demanding my 'bubba gum'. They were just teasing and being playful – they weren't hurting me or anything. I just playfully smiled and wondered if they'd really want it if they knew it was an old man's spent condom. I had felt far more vulnerable and distressed this morning when they literally had me pinned against the wall like a frog on the dissecting table. I was still in no position to command authority around them, but I didn't feel I needed to be. I was okay with the status quo of how things were working – and I have to admit I think the routine the guys came up with for discipline was starting to have an affect on my psyche where I was accepting this was just my lot in life now. Rahjid shouted from his ever-present position in the narrow window of his office for the boys to leave me alone. They ignored him at first but eventually ran off to get into some other mischief. I smiled at Rahjid and opened my mouth to display the condom and slid the twenty under the glass window. "Good, but you are too slow. You diddle-daddle around too much! You did not touch the condom with fingers after the cum was in it?" I lied (slightly) by nodding in agreement –Tattle tale Jamie wasn't here and I wanted his poor niece to eat something. Technically, I could have been nodding to his instruction that I needed to get faster turning around these tricks. "You did good, thank you berry, berry much" Rahjid bobbled his head obviously pleased with what I had just turned in and I smiled back at him. I knew that as sticky and disgusting as my life had become inside that little apartment was a girl who was probably having it worse than me and it was all her choice – but then this was my choice to do too wasn't it? I did not have time to ponder that much more deeply than the hundreds of other times the thought had presented itself to me the past few weeks. I saw Bill's truck pull into parking lot behind me – and out popped Bill, Chris, and Jamie. I smirked and was about to deliver a "How come she gets to ride up front when I am not with you?" snarky joke when I noticed the dour look on everyone's faces. "Okay what happened?" I just knew something was wrong. Bill told me that we were losing the house and there was nothing we could do. He had met with Mr. Bitterman who just happened to be Cathy Griffin's Grandfather. Oh Boy! And dumb old me sat in a coffee shop and spilled the beans to him about everything – and then some! I kind of thought he was pressing me for details about Cathy's involvement when I told him the story of how all this came to be- but at the time I thought he was just actively listening and being a considerate friend. I wonder what is going on over at their house now? I can't really feel bad if Cathy gets what karma should have delivered to her a long time ago. From what Bill told me about it – Cathy was in deep doo-doo like us and was going to be shipped off to some special school! I sure did cause some fireworks with my bad decisions – first to try to get the guys to improve I unintentionally cuckolded and enslaved them and then I wrecked our finances by losing my job and now it sounds like I've rubbed off on Mr. Bitterman's family. "So as you can see, I can't rightly keep whoring you out and disciplining you two anymore?" Bill closed his explanation with more of a question than a statement. I was seeing the 'old Bill' the indecisive one who lacked confidence – the one who spent all his time escaping reality into internet games, Facebook and forum discussions. I was shocked – and strangely disappointed. I can't speak to all the reasons for each emotion but a sudden realization that it could not end like this – with all us reverting back to our old behaviors and losing the house after having come so far. Chris was absent mindedly scratching his ass, Jamie seemed sad but in agreement with her father –this was over. "What is the plan then?" I finally spoke after taking in their explanation of the bombshell dropped on them by Mr. Bitterman. "Plan? There is no plan. We lose the house Friday and I don't know what happens next." Bill looked at me as if I should have obviously realized that. "The story doesn't end because we lose the house. There has to be a Saturday, so what are we going to do sir? Wait until Saturday Morning and figure it out then?" I have to admit I've called homeless bums Sir before but at that moment the first time I had really and truly regretted having to use that title was on my husband. He just wasn't earning the respect I wanted to give him. "Well, I guess you know, like we will stay here probably? Until we can figure it out." Bill hemmed and hawed with his answer – he couldn't look me in the eyes. "What is there to figure out? We need money, a place to live, let's just do whatever it takes and get those things?" I could not believe Bill was having a hard time with this. It was so simple to me. I had grown in the habit of saying Sir or Ma'am to avoid becoming familiar with my 'betters' since this discipline had begun – that it surprised me how easy it was to leave it off in this particular conversation. "I spent all day on my resume but we won't have internet soon, so how will anyone email me?" Bill kicked the ground with his hands in his pocket. "Dad, your phone does internet email, or did you not know that?" Chris sounded disappointed in his father. "Yeah, I know that, but I need to use a full size keyboard, okay?" Bill snapped at his son. They had been such a team- always working together that this was the first snippy little exchange I had seen between them in a long time. I interrupted their catty exchange "Bill Taylor, I hope you don't plan on using this as an excuse to get out of going ot the internet user's forum this weekend?" I put my hands on my hips and summoned as much of 'Old Wendy' as I had left to put just enough emphasis on my words to get their attention. "What?" Bill asked incredulously. The others looked at me as if I had just lost my mind. "You think I came this far, sucked this many dicks?" for some reason I pointed at Rahjid's office behind me "to have you tell me that everything is over just because you say it is?" Chris was half-smiling but Bill and Jamie were completely confused. "I am going to get your football stuff back right now, and you are going to get it together and take us to that internet user's forum, do you understand Bill Taylor?" I demanded but I didn't wait until he acknowledged me. I marched up to Rahjid's window and said "My husband wants his football stuff back, what do I have to do to get it?" Rahjid proceeded to begin babbling off numbers about damages, interest, back rents and past due notices. "I will whore until Friday – both day and night shift, you get all the profits off my ass, but we want it back right now, deal?" Rahjid was not used to the feisty side of me – this was coming at him like a shock that was as fired up and that I was not backing down or willing to haggle. He tried several other deals that were less favorable before finally agreeing to my terms. I walked back to where the three of my family members were standing and took Bill by the hand over to a storage room behind Rahjid's office where he was now standing. He unlocked the door and inside were a collection of musty old boxes and cleaning supplies. Bill navigated through the mess and retrieved a single box – inside was his football trophy, a VCR tape and dozen Hot Rod magazines. "Cool, a VCR tape, do you have a dinosaur we could use to play this on?" Chris giggled. "Do you want the rest of your things in here, Sir?" I gave Bill the curtesy of the proper title but I was feeling a little disappointed we did all this –for just one box. Bill looked at the boxes of jeans from the 1980s and old golf shirts that he had and laughed "No, this was the only thing in here that I needed - Thanks Wendy" "It's Cow-tits, Sir" I demanded with a hint of a smile. "I am glad Jamie is finally off the hook for what I did. Here is the new plan, You guys are going to go back home for the next three days and pack up whatever you want to take with you to the internet user's forum group this weekend. I am going to stay here and work for the next few days. You will come and pick me up Friday afternoon and we will go to your Father's internet user forum group meeting and have a good time, is that understood?" "Mom, I don't think you..." Chris started to say something but I held up a finger and quickly stopped him from continuing. I wasn't sure how I had managed to wrestle back control of the family so quickly but I decided to fill the awkward silence "Jamie and I don't have to listen to you anymore! However, it's going to be hard for me to do this without any motivation, so I will ask that you stop by twice a day to check on me. I was actually going to show you my punishment from last night for all the fucked up things I did and rules I broke, and hope it was sufficient." "What was it Mom?" Jamie asked sympathetically. I quickly described how Devi Das was walking a path of salvation and what the condoms had been for all along. I skipped over some of the details, in part because I didn't want to give the guys any good punishment ideas. A few weeks ago it would have made no sense but having gone through so many changes her consuming semen that could not be touched by the pure of heart seemed completely logical to all four of us. I lifted the skirt I had on in the parking lot and showed off the large needles that Rahjid had put in my ass and clit and went over the litany of things I did to deserve each one. "Not that it matters now, but I was supposed to go over my flaws from the night before. I encouraged my daughter to over-charge Buford. We took too long to finish Buford and it was my fault for tempting Jamie into violating those rules. It was entirely my oversight we didn't fill the condoms until the very end. We took our butt plugs out on our own and didn't put them in the right way." I genuinely felt guilty as I went over the list of so-called rule violations but why should I? A normal woman would have been aghast these were the rules anyway. But, I was not normal any more was I? "So you are sure about this Bill?" I hadn't called my husband by his first name in about three weeks – it felt alien and awkward coming out of my mouth. I could tell her felt that too. "What other choice do we have?" Bill didn't answer a direct question with a yes or a no – maybe I was reading too much into the context but I could tell he was already drifting back to the comfort-zone of blaming the rest of the world for his problems and doing nothing about them. "So should I take these needles out then?" I asked and Chris and Bill both looked at their shoes. They really didn't hurt now that they were in -unless I moved real fast. I was just putting out a feeler to see what the guys would say. "Wait, is your punishment over slut?" Jamie piped up. "Oh don't tell me you are going to be the boss of me now, Ass Face?" I gave my daughter one of those 'oh brother' exasperated looks that implies I just wasn't having any of that nonsense. "Oh no, not at all," Jamie stood on her tippy toes and smiled at me "I am just not leaving you out here to work on your own. You think I want to go back home and just sit and worry until Friday?" I could see from my daughter's enthusiastic face that she was trying to be helpful but Bill and Chris had clearly let this ordeal end for her and I didn't want her to have to further put herself through this. I was the only one who had ever deserved to have to do this in the first place. "Jamie, I know what you are trying to do and it's precious and I wouldn't have expected anything less from you," I started to explain but from the look on her face I already knew her response. I was hoping a taste of hell would have quenched her appetite to endure it with me – but it had not. "Good, then you know that I am going to insist on staying, and the name is Assface if you please, Cowtits." She smirked and I cracked a smile for the first time since hearing the crushing news about our debt and the house seizure. I looked over at Bill for his approval or a comment or anything – he simply shrugged as if he was all out of words and hope. I knew better than to ask my daughter if she was sure. The mother in me wanted to do so anyway because I was a control freak at heart and through this training and giving up authority over my own actions – I had learned a valuable lesson to be able to let my daughter make reasonable decisions without trying to second guess or talk her out of them. I just wanted to hear Bill say he had set her free and would like her to come home and enjoy a good meal or change out of those horrible clothes and peek-toe heels she was wearing– they had to be uncomfortable as all get out. Bill stood there quietly – as if he were waiting for a sign he should go. "I am sorry," well there was a start perhaps Bill was about to change his mind and tell us his plan. " I don't know what to tell you," and there it was – seven simple words. The seven simple words that encapsulate the last five years of Bill Taylor's life. I felt a gnawing in the pit of my stomach worse than when I had a broom shoved up my ass in an Asian tattoo parlor. "It's okay Bill, it will be fine," I heard myself saying and realized that was my seven little words that came right after his for the last five years. Then I would clean up his mess and let him go about being lazy on the couch or the internet and his self-pity. Why did I just say that? Had we gone through weeks of family transition only to revert back to the roles we had played for years? This ordeal had begun with a bang to the system and was ending in this passive aggressive whimper? "I guess we'll be back in a few hours and we'll bring you some dinner, not left-overs. I love you both, you know?" Bill's words were strained with indecision and worry. I knew he was feeling the weight of the world pressing down on him that he had finally taken the reigns of the family and the house was being yanked out from under him. "I know you feel like Charlie Brown having come so far to finally kick the ball, and Lucy just pulled it out from under you," I tried to offer a metaphor I thought would offer some consolation that I knew what he was going through but he did not want to hear it. I guess he still had that foolish pride as well. "Gah, you don't know anything. You two stay out here and suck as many dicks as you want," Bill made it sound like we loved doing this as he turned to walk back to his Truck. Chris had said nothing for the whole exchange – if he had seven little words that encapsulated his past five years it was no words at all. He blindly followed his father back to the Truck and I felt just a hint of a tear start to form in the rounds of my eye. "Get in the Truck, son. Your mom and sister want to whore it up," Bill didn't think twice about telling his son what to do – their partnership had fizzled. "No, I don't think so," Chris's voice sounded about one pitch higher than it should as if he were nervous about being defiant. "Now wait a sec, Sir" Jamie put her hands on her hip in jest "We appreciate the help, but you won't look good in a short skirt" she teased. Chris looked over his shoulder back at us and he wasn't grinning the way he did when they normally teased back and forth. "The two of them aren't out here because they want to be," Chris said of us. "Oh? Do you see any chains on them? I told them they are done, the world wins. We tried to earn enough money and we lost the house, your mom's job, your sister's reputation at school. We aren't playing the game anymore, we are losing everything. It is over." Bill shut the door to his truck as he turned back to his son, still cradling the box of football memorabilia in his arms. "What? Over? Did you say "over"? Nothing is over until we decide it is! Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor? Hell no!" Chris became excited. "Germans?" Jamie whispered to me in surprise. "Forget it, he's riffing off an old movie quote" I giggled in response realizing I was a teenager when this film came out. "And it ain't over now. 'Cause when the goin' gets tough" Chris paused for a moment while trying to think of something to say. He often used humor to deflect reality and to deal with the world around him but his dad wasn't buying it. "You have something to say Son, don't tell me in Animal House quotes." Bill shook his head in disappointment. "I am staying," Chris said with a straight faced conviction. "What? Why?" Bill was confused and so was I. "Simple, these bitches ... look at them? They haven't been inspected, they don't seem like they are even standing up straight," Chris turned to us with the familiar sadistic look he had when he was about to do something particularly vile to us. "Oh no," Jamie was smiling but shaking her head "Not this again, you heard dad, you guys aren't the boss of us anymore." There was a light heartedness in her denial of her brother's attempt to assert authority over us, as if she saw it as a vain attempt to try to motivate us. "What? Tits out, chins up, tighten those ass cheeks!" Chris got in her face and in seconds Jamie had transformed to standing at attention with a completely serious expression. He looked at me and not to leave my daughter and son hanging I sprung to attention letting my tits bounce in time with my movement –forming up alongside my daughter in the motel parking lot. "Who owns those asses?" Chris asked out loud in broad daylight. I could hear Tiontay and his friends giggling behind me and I knew there were probably other eyes watching us from darkened motel rooms but I played along. "You do Sir?" I was the first to reply and Jamie answered basically the same thing. "That was pathetic, I don't think you really believe it." Chris snarled in response. "Check my ass, Sir" Jamie piped up with chin out, and standing at full attention. "Why? Is there a love note in there for me?" Chris asked sadistically. "No Master, when you and dad told me I didn't have to serve today and I could get dressed, I could have taken it out, but my license is still where it belongs." "And where does it belong Ass face?" Chris insisted on hearing. "Straight up my ass, Sir!" It still shocked me to hear Jamie's innocent voice deliver vulgar phrases like that and without the least hint of fear that people were listening. I could see on my son's face a look of satisfaction and pride. "What about you Cowtits, are you loaded and packing your passport?" Chris turned his gaze towards me. "Would you take my word for it if I told you, Sir?" I wasn't entirely sure we should be going back to discipline having just been given a reprieve and it probably reflected in my joking tone. "I asked you a question, whore and I expect a straight answer. I know you like to deceive and manipulate – like all female kind!" Whoa where was Chris getting that from? "However, since you can't answer a simple question - get in position two, flip up your skirt and show me." There is something primal about being dominated fully. I think it's like a hormonal instruction set that is locked away in our brains that gets activated and overrides our learned behavior. I felt it when I became a teenager and dared to defy my mother – that was my hormones telling me to stand on my own two feet. I felt it when I became a mother and dedicated myself to my children – that was my hormones telling me to get up at 4am and change that dirty diaper. I felt it right now when I was being ordered to show my ass in broad day light so it could be inspected. I turned around in precise military fashion and bent at the waist in front of my son while flipping my skirt up fully in the back and held my ass cheeks apart for him. "Ah there is the diamond I picked out for you, is it the best mother's day present you ever got?" Chris's tone was dark but I knew he intended his joke to be that way. "In all honesty Master, no." I replied and since I couldn't see his face – I assumed it was stunned that I hadn't just agreed with him. "Someone stole and ran off with it today" I was looking up and saw Tiontay's face go from giggle to a guilty look while he and his friends were peeping at me from the corner of one of the motel cabanas. "I could lose it, but the tattoo you and your father bought for me, telling me precisely what I am to you, is forever. I thank you for that Master" I gripped my ass cheeks to pull my ass a little further apart than normal – satisfied that I had answered my son's barb with love and acceptance. Jamie was self-sacrificing her pride and dignity to continue to earn for the family and Chris was going to help us get through this as moral support- a coach of sorts. I was proud of them and disappointed that Bill had not warmed up to what we were doing. He must be watching from a distance and wondering if we are all crazy. He probably just thought we were stuck in the routine of discipline mode and this was our way of living in denial? He might be right. "Awww, isn't that sweet, you think that earned you some brownie points?" Chris cupped my ass with a hard slap from his palm. "More like Brown-noser points," Jamie giggled at him. "Did I tell you to get in position two?" Chris got within a hair's distance of his sister's face enraged by her joke. "No Sir?" she replied meekly like tweety bird recoiling from Sylvester invading her cage. "Then get in it, and join your slut mother!" Chris's mock-rage subsided as he delivered the second order. Jamie complied without hesitation standing exactly as I was with both ass cheeks exposed in the half-empty parking lot of a broken down motel. "You dumb whores know that I am your pimp, and that you will eat, shit, talk, walk, suck, fuck, lick, according to MY rules and that nothing has changed from yesterday- You agree to that?" Chris spoke directly to our asses as if he were Braveheart addressing his troops on a sunny Scottish glade. "Yes Master" we said in unison. "Assface, tell me why we can't leave you two out here unsupervised and with no discipline, will you please?" Chris demanded of his sister. "Because family is meant to be tight – like a butthole, Master" Jamie repeated a quote we heard Chris say a while back from a TV show he watches called Workaholics. I've never seen it but I've heard it is hilarious. "What?" Chris demanded. "Sorry Master, family is meant to be tight – like my asshole!" Jamie corrected herself using the more vulgar description. "I was expecting you to tell me because you lazy cunts would lollygag around and spend time telling each other your feel-ings" he dragged out the last word to show disdain for them "And brag about how you fucked Roscoe in the backyard today?" I looked over at Jamie's hung face and she was turning a new shade of red from embarrassment. I look backed down at the pavement with a sudden wonder if my morning really had been harder than hers must have been. This was going to be quite an explanation - she was going to have to tell me all about this one. I knew from the Internet that women did it but I assumed it was in Germany or Japan or places where porn has to be so disgusting and bizarre for anyone to take notice. "That too, Master" Jamie cleared her throat and didn't deny what he said about her. "I just meant you stayed for the same reason Mom and I Did." Her normally chipper delivery was clouded by what sounded like shame. After all we had been through how could she care about my opinion of what she did? I knew what was in her heart. "Oh, because I love sucking on dicks?" Chris prodded her to continue her explanation with a slap to the ass cheeks that didn't even make her wobble – her balance was excellent. "No Sir," Jamie sniffed a little – was she crying? Had he hit her that hard? Was it the realization I knew she fucked a dog. "Sp-spah-spit it out Assface" Chris stuttered to mock her while delivering another rock solider hammer slap to her ass cheeks "You usually swallow, so this should be a first." He chortled to himself. "The family is having hard times, but we are pulling together as a family. I am already dressed like a hooker, I've spent a night whoring, I know the deal. I am going to suck and fuck and do my part just like mom is. You are going to discipline us and keep us from being bad and getting chatty, I appreciate that, and I thank you. That is what family should do." Jamie's tone returned to the sweety-pie-in-the-sky that always looks on the bright side that has been her nature since the first time she could utter a word. "You are wrong about that Cunts," Chris got serious and paused "Dad left the parking lot five minutes ago, he thinks we are just wasting our time." "Our we Master?" I wanted some reassurance and I hadn't spoke in this exchange. "Well, other than giving a free show of your stinkers to some kids who seem to think this is HILARIOUS," Chris stomped a few steps and drove Tiontay and his friends back behind the corner they had continued to peep and giggle from – only for them come right back in a few seconds and deliver another round of giggles. "Then no, this is not making us any money." "Well it's got your whores fired up to suck dicks, may we stand up and get to work Master?" I offered in as sweet a tone as I could. Chris smacked my butt "Yes, but don't do that." Allowing me to drop my skirt and stand up straight again. "I am sorry, do what Master?" I turned around using the same tone. "How you are talking, it's like you sounded when you used to tuck me in at night and read me a story, or kiss a boo-boo, it creeps me out." He said seriously. "Oh, but mommy is a good whore for you, does he want his little tum-tum rubs?" I played up my motherly tone. I had no idea my 'sweet voice' sounded like my nurturing mommy voice – I knew he was right instantly as I smiled and teased him while Jamie giggled. "You want me to slam those big fat nipples in the door of the cabana?" Chris's threat was obviously in jest – he could take a joke as easily as he could give one. "Actually, I would not mind, if it will knock some of this breast milk loose from my boobs. I feel like I am going to explode, Sir!" Jamie was half-kidding but I was feeling the weight of the milk sloshing around and making my tits heavier than normal too – we were overdue for our regular milkings by several hours. "You and Dad really did a number on us, by giving us hormone pills to make our boobies fill up with milk with our birth control pills." "What birth control pills? We stopped giving those to you weeks ago." Chris said dead pan and I heard a clang of metal clatter on the pavement like a heavy aluminum spatula that just dropped. "Gotcha," Chris laughed at our wide-eyed expressions that we were definitely going to be pregnant and pointed to Jamie's license lying on the ground. He laughed "Cow Tits, pick that up with your teeth, and bring it into the Cabana, I need to inspect you two whores and get you milked and ready to work night shift." As I bent over to clench my daughter's stainless steel buttplug Chris laughed "I hope our family is tighter than YOUR asshole." He smacked Jamie on the ass and drove us both into our Cabana where he insisted we strip right away. "I am surprised you got clothes, let me guess you had to spend some of my money to buy them?" I was quickly undressing and I wanted to stop and clarify that the money was ours as a family but I decided to roll with it and put my over-thinking, over-analytic mind to the side. "No Master, since you were kind enough to leave me here last night so that I could learn my lesson," I was being facetious and he knew it "Rahjid had some old whore's clothes laying around I could wear, I suppose we could bring them back tomorrow?" Chris grabbed the skirt I had neatly folded and set on the floor and tried to rip it, at first he didn't succeed because it was a stretchy polyester flitty little party skirt that was popular in the 1980s but after his sister giggled he managed a tear down the side. "It needs to show a little more skin, you don't have a problem with that do you slut?" Chris asked me seriously as I stood before him now fully undressed. No Master, thank you for adjusting my outfit, I shouldn't have indulged my need for modesty by wearing a skirt with that much material, please forgive me?" I got down on my knees – now the line between facetious and serious began to blur for me. "And no, you won't be going home to get a change of clothes," Chris glared down at me "Dad's there, and if he doesn't want to be a part of this than that's fine. Let's leave him to his misery and take care of business." "You won't tie me to the back of the building again tonight though Sir?" I don't know when to keep my damn mouth shut. I thought put the over-thinking, over-analyzing Wendy away – but I just had to clarify the sleeping arrangement and inadvertently put that thought in his head. "You'll both be out there with broom handles up your ass, if you don't do well tonight." Chris was digging around to find a razor to address the stubble that had started to sprout on our legs and pubic hair and had us face each other and start pulling and tugging each other's titties to milk each other. "Harder mom, like this..." Jamie was kneeling in front of me as she pulled my nipple like the spring-loaded plunger on a pinball machine to entice me to milk her a little more forcefully than I was. "Hey, that smarts, watch it hooker." I said playfully and gave her the tugs she asked for while crushing my thumbs into her nipples as hard as I could. She shut her eyes and little drips of yellowish-white milk began to emerge from the tips of her nipples. "Oh, it's not the worst thing that's been done to them, you want me to do yours like that?" Jamie asked without reservation and I nodded I did. I was only released from my discipline for a few minutes but I was still feeling strange about returning to it without Bill's involvement – like we were playing a charade. Then the screen door to the cabana opened behind me... ------- Chapter 29: Fifty Shades of Shut The Fuck Up And Suck My Dick Note to reader: The story returns to its original narrative format. CASH EARNINGS WEDNESDAY WENDY: $135 JAMIE: $95 "Prince Tyrion of House Lannister! What honor you show our humble banner house, I bid good tidings to thee." Chris bowed formally with a flourish to the unexpected visitor. Wendy and Jamie turned to see who was walking in on them while they furiously milked themselves – both thinking it was Bill with a change of heart. The bitter realization that he had left sulking to creep back home and wallow in his misery swept over both of them as they looked upon the familiar face of Mini-me and made them slow their vigorous milking exercise. "Peter Dinklage? Really? You think all midgets look alike do you?" He did bear an extraordinarily close resemblance to the actor who plays Prince Tyrion in HBO's Game of Thrones with trimmed goatee and all. However, he also carried a chip on his shoulder about the size of a boulder for all things stereotype which is why he gave himself the nickname "Mini-me". If he called himself one of the worst insults he could think of, then he felt he took away the power of people who made fun of him. In truth, Chris had meant no disrespect at all. He was joking naturally but he could not deny the man's resemblance to the wise-cracking actor. "I am sorry about that, what can we do you for? Or they do you for anyway?" "You are the husband, Bill?" Mini-me had been told Bill was Wendy's pimp and had taken an instant disliking to him when he first heard about him and it showed in his voice. "Me?" Chris was shocked by the negativity wafting off the little man who had just invaded their cabana as if he owned it. "No, the lump of shit-fat standing behind you, yes you." Mini-me's brusque manner only seemed to amuse Chris – which made Mini-me even more brusque. Wendy remembered from her initial meeting with Mini-me that he had self-esteem issues and was putting on a 'tough guy' accent and trying to speak in a deeper voice than normal. "You know you sound like Nicolas Cage in Ghost Rider when you get angry like that, real gravelly and somber ha-ha. It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Chris," Chris offered a smile and had to bend down a little to shake his hand. Mini-me accepted his hand begrudgingly and said, "So let me guess, you are Cow tit's son?" "Well, and her owner and pimp," Chris's smile faded and he became a little more serious. "Jesus fucking Christ, I thought your husband was your pimp?" He looked at Wendy with scorn. The two girls still had their hands on each other's tits but had stopped tugging each them. "Well, I am not sure my husband is up for the job right now," Wendy didn't want to go into detail about the family's problems with him but she realized how that sounded after it came out. It also underscored her wonder about what Bill was doing and why he had turned his back without saying a word. "That is freaky, the husband won't do it so the son takes over. I love it. You bitches are fucking twisted. So I pay you or what? I want to get my rocks off." Mini-me was reaching for his wallet as he asked Chris. "Actually, my dad and I are both owners, along with Rahjid, but right now my Dad is..." Chris was midway through explaining when Mini-me cut him off. "Can the drama kid, No one gives a shit. I need to bust a nut. I would like to do what I did yesterday, piss all over them, in their asses, and then jerk off on their faces." He held up two fifty dollar bills as if he were in a hurry and wanted Chris to retrieve his car from valet parking. "Wow, that is fucking twisted, I love it!" Chris had a new found respect for the little man as he took the hundred dollars. "I am going to walk down to the store and buy some razors so you can shave your cunts, and some mountain dew. If you finish early with him, you know what to do." Chris announced to the girls – offering them to Mini-me with his blessing. "You aren't a pimp, you are an errand boy," Mini-me was a trouble-maker who had been bullied and picked on all his life. Now he often picked fights with people who were nice to him. He felt they would eventually turn on him and were probably being nice to his face so they could laugh at him and there was so much hate welled up inside of him that he just let it out as often as he could. His desire to humiliate girls was a manifestation of that and a therapy of sorts for him – a sort of alpha dog dominance thing but also a release valve on a whole lot of issues. Chris wasn't sure whether to slap him or laugh at him. He knew he recognized a kindred soul lashing out at the world and recognized his own perverted love of humiliation might spring from the same well he saw in Mini-me's eyes. Jamie had stood by and let people make fun of her brother in high school and she had felt terribly guilty about it. She wasn't going to keep her mouth shut even if she was supposed to be a good little demure and submissive slut. "He is our pimp and owner, Sir! He is going to get razors so we can shave each other's cunts, asses and legs smooth because he doesn't permit us to keep any hair below the neck." She pleaded to convince him of her brother's importance. Chris may have looked like an awkward, lumpy teenager but to Jamie he had been a hero – especially because he stayed when Dad didn't. She had seen sides of him that she knew very few had seen – even Chris. "Oh, and if you don't keep it shaved what happens, Missy-prissy?" Mini-me put his hands under his chin to mock her polite manner adding, "Does he spank your bottom?" his tone completely derisive and sarcastic. Jamie's blue eyes were looking imploringly at Chris. She wanted him to at least know that she stood up for him – even if she hadn't convinced Mini-me of anything. "I don't know sir," Wendy answered the rhetorical question. "This is the first time we've ever gone this long without shaving smooth and hairless, what is our punishment for being so disgusting, Master?" "You mean besides having to fuck this little guy?" Chris giggled and it was apparent that while Bill's confidence may have been chopped down that Chris hadn't lost the swagger he had been developing the past few weeks. "Yeah actually, I was going to hand out punishments after you finished milking your titties, getting your enema, shaving and getting inspected, but since Tyrion Lannister rode in, you will go beg Rahjid for your purple poppers and wear them all night." Chris made reference to the zip-tie style bands that Wendy and Jamie had worn the night before that cut off circulation to their breasts and made them bulge. "Those purple poppers? Enemas? Milky titties, Fuck, okay bro. I take it all back, I want to be you when I grow up," Mini-me was quite a bit older than Chris and was obviously joking about his height. He dropped the pretense of a deep voice and sounded quite a bit like Chris when he relaxed and talked normally. "No hard feelings, I totally feel ya. Listen, have fun pissing on them, I wish I could stay but I got ERRANDS to run." Chris smirked ironically and started for the door. "Hold up, hold up," Mini-me said "Listen man, you are cool, my real name is Pete, err actually Peter is my real name. You can call me that. I only let my friends call me Peter." He extended his hand in a genuine offer of friendship while he blocked Chris from the door. "How many friends you got?" Chris asked skeptically while returning the offer of friendship. "Counting you?" Peter thought for a second as if counting and answered "only you." "Hahah, that's cool bro, like I say, I really need to keep the line moving here if you know what I mean, time is money, so how about I let you get your freak on, and get out of your way." Chris was curious about what was going to happen but he also knew this was business and that was more important. The girls were completely left out of the conversation – still half-heartedly holding each other's nipples and watching while being ignored and talked about as if they were property and not even in the room. "You know, I could come up off double what I paid, and I will drive you to the store and you can get everything you need. Then maybe I can sort of watch all that stuff you mentioned?" Peter asked with genuine enthusiasm. He reverted back to his earlier tough guy persona to add, "Unless you were bullshitting?" but Chris saw right through it and he knew it. "Stuff like this?" Chris unzipped his jeans and bid his sister to crawl over and take it out for him. Jamie lifted it out gently and lovingly and started to get it hard instantly but he shook his head no and put his finger over his lips as if suggesting she be quiet and ask no questions. "Put it in your mouth," Chris ordered and the girl obediently opened her mouth and swallowed the entire length of the half-hard cock without hesitation. Then her eyes opened with alarm and her cheeks began to expand and fill up rapidly. "You'll need to swallow ... there you go, that is it, pissy". Jamie tried to keep her lips completely wrapped around the flooding, warm urine pouring into her mouth but found herself instinctively parting her lips to gasp for air. Chris grabbed a long length of her blonde hair and pulled her back onto his dick. "Drink it all or you won't get another drink of water for a week!" He snarled at her and she obediently tried to control her breathing and drink down the piss. She'd had dribbles of piss in her mouth from pussies and dicks she had sucked andthe two girls had drank some of their own mixed with water at the pool party but this was the first time anyone just completely unloaded a full barrel of lemonade into her skull by way of her mouth. It was disgusting as it invaded her taste buds, overran her tonsils and made its way down her throat to her stomach. "Haha, I love the look on Assfarts face," Peter laughed as he noticed how horrified and shocked Jamie had become with the realization she was her brother's urinal right now. "Her name is Assface, but I like that. You can grab my mom's mouth the same way, if you want too," Chris said casually as he relieved himself in his sister's face. "This one's name I know, it's Cowtits. I jerked off to the thought of her last night." Wendy was flattered she had left an impression on him that he would choose her image of the millions available on the internet to think about while he pleasured himself. She was equally shocked and horrified that this was yet a new perversion that was going to be thrust upon her. "Come here," Peter demanded she remove his cock from his jeans the same way. This time, knowing what was coming next made it even more scary and disgusting to Wendy – but she complied and put her mouth around his full sized dick. "You remember this one?" Peter smiled and began to spray his piss into the back of Wendy's throat. "Oh yeah, you remember this cock from yesterday, don't you ... don't you?" he kept asking as he made Wendy nod yes while pissed into her mouth. "This is a little throat coat for you, just a little throat coat," Peter joked while bringing his hand up for a high-five with Chris. Chris returned it - although it was more like a medium-five for him. He felt a little sad because his father and him had done a lot of high fives and bro-fists and now his father wasn't here and he was suddenly reminded of that. "Will the guys at your work believe you were pissing in your sister's throat, in a dirty motel while partying with a midget?" Peter asked with a face that read 'on top of the world right now, don't want to come down'. "I don't have a job," Chris laughed. "Ah, just live off these bitches. That must be nice." Peter had meant this in the nicest way but Chris started to feel guilty when he thought about that. He cut his piss stream before drowning his sister with urine allowing her to swallow the pool that had been building up like a reservoir in her mouth. "You want more, Ass fart?" Chris laughed at his sister's grossed-out expression while her cheeks remained puffy as she tried to drain it. He expected a plea for mercy but doggedly the girl intended to prove Chris was her owner and nodded for more. Chris's guilt melted away with a smile and he continued as he started his second wind. "You know a whore's mouth is only good for two things. sucking and swallowing." Chris stood like a proud rooster over his hens. "True dat," Mini-me was finishing up and shaking his cock in front of Wendy's face while she blinked but accepted the last bit of his spray. "Otherwise, her mouth is like her asshole, always full of shit. That's one reason her name is Assface, right, cow tits?" Chris said to his mother. "Yes Master, our mouths are only good for sucking and swallowing, whatever you want to put in them and we need to be grateful of that. That reminds me, will you pick up an enema kit for us at the store? I don't know about Ass face, but I know I am full of shit right now." She could kick herself for sounding so 'mom-like' in how she asked the question. She was actually trying to sound sexy. Mini-me's dick became rigid in time with the words coming out of Wendy's mouth. The fact that she had been so casual about the question had impressed the little pervert more than if she had tried to sound sexy. "You like piss-boners, don't you, Cow tits?" he asked her. "What is a piss-boner?" She asked to a squirt in the face of hot urine from him. "That is a piss-boner!" Peter laughed and asked Chris, "You can piss when you got a hard on?" "Hey man, I am seventeen, what do you think I am doing right now?" he pulled out of his sister's mouth and continued drizzling his piss into the rivulet of whiz still waiting for its turn to funnel down Jamie's throat. "I am impressed, you've got a giant cock, and I mean that, no-homo!" Peter looked over at Chris's erect cock. "Thanks, and you can drop the tough guy act with me man, we are friends," Chris gave him a warm smile and dried his dick in his sister's hair before putting it back into his jeans and leaving her to finish swallowing the present he had given her. "Your life must have been awesome. You were raised in the pimp game. How long have you been pissing down their throats like this?" Peter was finishing up on Wendy and wiped his dick in her hair like he had seen Chris do. Wendy had more of the yellow stuff down her chest than Jamie who had barely spilled a trace. "Actually, I wasn't raised in the pimp game, we've recently started this, and as for pissing on women, truth be told this was my first time," Chris answered seriously. "Damn, with slutty, piss drinkers as expert as these?" Peter was shocked by that. "It was our first time too, Sir." Jamie wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and looked at her mom in jest "Unless you did something else you didn't tell me about?" "Oh, I am still waiting for the Roscoe story, this should be good!" Wendy's eyes were water, her nose was slightly red from where Peter had pinched it to control her air supply but she was smiling as she wiped her face. "Motherfucker! Well truth be told it was my first time doing this too, normally I try to piss on a whore at the end of my session and she chases me off. Maya is one of the few who will accommodate me, but that is on his terms, if you know what I mean." Chris didn't know what Peter meant but he shook his head when the midget winked at him like he did. "Listen, I wanna hear the Roscoe story too. I was kidding when I said no one gives a shit about your family drama. I am so fucking fascinated by it I want to hear every last detail. I bet your lives could easily fill four fucking books of internet fiction." "You read perverted stories on the internet?" Chris smiled at him conspiratorially. "I am a fucking midget who pays for sex, you think I don't fucking jerk it to everything and anything on the internet? Whenever and however I can." Peter answered abruptly but smiled to let Chris know he was teasing. "Some of my favorite authors are Vulgus, Redlegtiger, Uh arthvr dragonsen, Hooked6, and Phil Phantom, you should read them some time." "Sounds cool, I will have to check those out," Chris answered as he ordered the girls to get dressed. "You two are going to walk the track and at least suck one dick before me and my buddy Peter get back from the store, do we understand each other?" "Yes Master we will do our best," the girls sounded almost in unison – "There is no try, only do! Fuck and suck you will," Chris imitated Yoda "Purple poppers you will have on, when return we do! If it hurts, a shit I do not give." Peter laughed so hard that a little spit came out of his mouth. "That was fucking hysterical, you know those authors are good and all, I mean the best. But you know what, fuck that man, reality is even better! You could write a book about your life and people would read the shit out of that book – I would." "Well, you are a twisted little pervert though." Chris smiled at his friend. Any question as to whether that had been too blunt was erased when Peter smiled broadly and agreed. "You would be surprised if you look down some time, just how many of us little perverts are out there. You know what my favorite story is?" "No idea, one with a midget in it?" Chris smiled. "Fifty shades of shut the fuck up, and suck my dick." Peter laughed and hit Chris in the balls playfully "And it's Dwarf not midget" he explained. "Oh? I am sorry about that" Chris apologized. "I am just fucking with you, if you had said Dwarf, I would have said it's little person. It's a game we like to play to fuck with people who are too sensitive." Peter quipped. "Really?" Chris said with a smile across on his face. "No, not really. Jesus, don't believe everything a midget tells you. Listen, I know your girls have to make money, but could they ride in the car?" Peter changed the subject unexpectedly. Wendy and Jamie were already dressing and trying to touch up their makeup and hair to get busy for work. "Why?" Chris laughed. "The Chevette never gets any action. I would kind of like to you know, hear the Roscoe story and just sort of like you know hang out." Chris looked at his mom and Jamie for a clue as to what he should do here. He knew it was important to everyone that they work and make as much money as they could. They would be homeless by Friday him and his father had maxxed out the credit cards. "Oh I see, so you are the boss? How about another theory? These two little minges give you good hand jobs and let you piss all over them but it looks like they call the shots." Peter's tone was challenging Chris to prove him wrong. "It is really not like that, they would sit in the back of your car cuffed and gagged if ordered them too and they would be thankful they got to ride inside a car for a change. It's just my Dad's not here and we are..." Chris started to explain his situation. "Look I get it, your dad is the decision maker, hey I understand. Tell you what, how about I pay an extra fifty bucks Cowtits has to pretend to be my girlfriend if we see anybody at the store who knows me." "You two cunts can do that, can't you?" Chris smiled at his mom and sister. "Yes Sir, but are you going to introduce me as Cowtits your girlfriend?" Wendy asked with a look of amused disbelief across her face. "Yes, why not? It's not like they are going to think you are high class, you are dating me after all," Peter turned on his heel and opened the screen door "We ready to get to the store?" The four piled into Peter's tiny green Chevette. The car was roomy to Peter but Chris had to squeeze himself into the front seat and the girls had to sit scrunched in the back on top of old soda cans and dirty socks that were thrown randomly into the back. "It's a whole lot roomier if you are only three and a half foot tall, ladies" he smiled and pulled out of the motel. He passed a 99 cent store and dismissed it as 'junk' before deciding on a Super J-mart in a dilapidated shopping center. "Twenty years ago this was pretty much the only shopping center in this part of town. It was a K-mart then, but they have pulled out and now it's just a J-mart". "I've never heard of J-mart," Chris said exiting the car with the girls. "Exactly," Peter felt Chris's words had just made his point. This shopping center was a metaphor to him – of the city being slowly torn down and replaced by crap and crappy people. It disgusted him but he continued to shop in it and live here – he felt like one of many worms in a disgusting and rotten apple trying to get to its core. "I always shop here. It's cheap as shit and they have everything you need – if you don't mind your food slightly out of date." "Sluts, you'll each push the cart. I want your hands out in front of you and only remove them from the cart when I tell you to retrieve something. You know how to bend to pick something up, right Ass fart?" Jamie liked her new name a whole lot less now that she had gotten used to Ass face. "I am to bend at the waist, bending at the knee is for ladies, not sluts, Sir." she repeated the procedure. "Good, good, just making sure Dad's pity party today giving you early release didn't change anything about the rules." Chris reminded her. "No sir, you are the boss," Jamie was starting to wonder if it had been such a good idea to agree to this – after all, when would it end? "I know, aint it nice?" Chris led the girls through aisles of what could amount to 'crap you buy and immediately regret owning'. There were old Christmas decorations, Disney memorabilia from movies that were old when Chris was a kid, bric-a-brac and assorted and miscellaneous clothes and food items. It was basically everything you could buy at a flea market but lined up in long aisles to give the illusion of a department store. "I think I saw this place on Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome" Chris noted the lackadaisical cashiers paying no attention to the parents hustling herds of screaming kids around the store grabbing and breaking stuff in a whirling dervish. "Yeah, who run barter town?" Peter mimicked the midget from the movie. "Master Blaster," Chris replied the appropriate line from the movie. "Like a motherfucking P-I-M-P, Pimp that's who," Peter laughed. "Cowtits, there are some razors, pick those up." Chris instructed his mom to bend at the waist and pick the cheapest razors (without gel) she could find. "You like old science fiction movies?" Chris was intrigued by his new friend's knowledge of movie quotes. "I told you, I am a midget with too much time on my hands. If I am not jerking off, or squeezing one out in the toilet, I am watching some fucking DVD. I nearly shit my pants laughing back there when you imitated Yoda. You are a comedian, man!" Peter gave Chris some respect. Jamie and Wendy looked at each other as they noticed the two men bonding. They didn't have to say anything to one another to share that they were both arriving at the same thought. Chris needed this right now – If dad was giving up, Chris needed a little pick me up. Wendy leaned in and whispered in Jamie's ear, "Hey, he stayed here not to be mean and cruel to us, I mean yes, he was mean and cruel, but he is here to keep us motivated. If this keeps him motivated – so be it." and Jamie nodded complete agreement. "Are you two lovebirds sharing a thought you would like to tell the rest of us?" Chris noticed their whispers and called them out. "We were just about to kiss, wanna watch?" Jamie smiled and leaned forward and French kissed her mom. They had done it many times before and had become very expert at delivering fresh, wet kisses to one another. "Oh now c'mon you two, there are kids in here, what would they think." Chris laughed as he watched his mother and sister French kiss in a store full of shoppers. He was making them bend over far enough that the hint of their ass crack was on display and parading them around the store in skimpy outfits - had the store been even slightly better run they may have been thrown out just for trying to wear them into the store. "Your mom and sis, sure are extroverted attention whores aren't they?" Peter laughed. "See that is where you are wrong, an attention whore displays herself on her own terms and shows only what she wants people to see in exchange for attention, respect and power over someone else through their desire for her." "What you are seeing are sluts being humbled. They are given only minimal clothing to keep them vulnerable and so that anyone looking at them couldn't possibly respect them. Yes, they are desirable but they are on display because the wind blows or..." as a bunch of screaming Hispanic kids ran past them knocking Wendy's skirt so that her ass became visible "something like that happens, they are going to show you whatever – not on their terms." "I fucking love it," Peter looked over a dozen or so items they had collected in the shopping car "What are the brooms for? You planning on having them clean up that shithole cum factory you are staying in?" "No these? What are these for Cowtits?" Chris asked his mother as he held up one of the yellow brooms they had in the cart. "To shove up our asses, if we don't make enough money tonight Sir!" Wendy admitted but added "But is it fair, if you have us walking around the store where we can't make money?" "Don't worry, I'll take that into account," Chris laughed. "Can you give me a dollar figure as a goal, Sir?" Wendy asked. Bill had known that Wendy was uncomfortable with qualitative goals of 'you did good' or 'that was okay'. She liked to have measurable targets and she pioneered them in her employee evaluations as a senior vice president at her old job. It had been the reason he started using stars when he first came up with "Bill's Bill" to give the girls' a target. "Dad was better at estimating," Chris suddenly realized the subtext of his mom's question was that she was missing his stabilizing influence already. "You have to each earn five hundred tonight at a minimum," Chris quickly picked a number he thought was attainable but not too easy. "And we can sleep inside?" his mom's face brightened – another thing she liked was negotiation. "No, don't be silly. You just don't have to do it with this broom jammed up your ass," Chris laughed. "Uh Sir, oh gosh, we are getting some complaints about inappropriate behavior here?" a diminutive yet familiar voice came from behind Chris. "Oh really? I've seen at least three women in here in fishnets and sports bra," Chris was about to turn around and defend himself to the store employee when he recognized the man's face. "Wait, aren't you Sheldon's dad?" Chris asked. It was Jerry Cooper – one time employee where Wendy used to work and her handler at one point. "Yes, I am. I didn't recognize you from the manager's desk." Jerry tried to sound official. "You are the manager here?" Peter asked. "No Peter, I am not the manager and you know that. I am the Assistant Manager," Jerry admitted begrudgingly. "I heard you were the Assistant TO the manager, and the manager's desk is really just that little counter right when you first walk in where they do returns?" Peter was having some fun at Jerry's expense. "Can I introduce you to my friends? This is Chris the best pimp in the game, and his girlfriend and my girlfriend Cowtits," Peter pulled them all close and hugged Wendy in close. "I thought you were married to Bill?" Jerry had secretly had a crush on Wendy for years before she ever started going through discipline but he was too timid to ever act on it. The fact that she had been dropped on his lap the final day of her employment at the firm where they both worked and he had been in charge of him had driven him insatiably crazy. He had kept replaying that day over and over in his mind. "I thought you were working at Buford's store, Sir?" Wendy let Peter feel her up under her skirt and around her boobs while she tried to hold a straight conversation but couldn't keep a straight face. "I still work at the Adult emporium, I was fired shortly after you from my day job, so I had to take this in order to make my alimony and child support payments," Jerry's shoulders were slumped and he was a beaten man – the words 'loser' seemed to radiate in all directions around him. Wendy couldn't help but wonder if given enough time that Bill would devolve into a lonely and spineless guy like Jerry. "You know my relationship with Bill, he doesn't mind sharing me, Sir." Peter pulled Wendy down close to him – exposing her cleavage as the shirt she had on barely covered her well rounded and still tan fake tits. Peter opened his mouth and Wendy closed her eyes and French kissed him passionately for what felt like too long while she felt what she hoped were just Peter's fingers climbing their way up her ass cheeks. "Well I do see that. I was put in charge of you for your final day as you may remember?" Jerry asked the question with a hint of hope for some recognition. "Yes Jerry, actually I do remember." Wendy called him by his first name instead of Sir. It started to dawn on her that he may have been the one feeding Vicky all the information about her activities at the office. If she had been in her office rival's shoes she would have gone after the weakest member of the other side's team. Jamie elbowed her mom –noticing the absence of protocol but neither Peter nor Chris caught it and it was ignored. "Can I ask, did you tell Vicky about the arrangement I had with Steve and you?" Wendy's eyes narrowed at Jerry who seemed to cower in fear when she called him out. "I had to tell her, she said she would get me fired!! I didn't know," Jerry began to crack immediately – wondering how Wendy could be so perceptive. "Cowtits, are you giving Jerry a hard time?" Peter felt up her breasts while he laughed. Wendy realized she had probably overstepped her boundaries, letting her growing rage seethe that the spineless little man may have engineered her downfall at the company – which led to her losing her house. "I thought you said I was your only friend and only true friends can call you Peter?" Chris asked with some skepticism. "Oh, Jerry is a sad sack and a ball-sniffer, but I have to make exceptions for my brother," Peter slapped his brother on the thigh and told him to lighten up. "Look, I need you to get your purchases and go, I have to get back to the counter." Jerry muttered. He had a habit of muttering when he wanted to say what was really on his mind. "You mean the Manager's desk?" Peter had a cruel streak about as wide as the bottomless canyon that Jerry's self-esteem had been dropped into. It had begun to dawn on the others that maybe they had both had a lot to do with each other's condition. "Ass face was about to tell us her Roscoe story, I am sure it will be interesting," Peter offered to his brother, but Jerry was already on his way back to the manager's desk. Peter whispered to Chris that he would pay for it. "They will both suck your dick," Peter called out loud enough for a large portion of the store to hear – the din of screaming kids, ringing cash registers and crashing shopping carts stopped for just an instant and then rose back to its previous dull roar with only few chuckles from shoppers. "This place needs its own 'People of Walmart' website," Chris joked of the site that showed all the late night shoppers who grace the store in tacky sweat pants and short skirts. "Yeah, I think you can see most of these people on the jail's mugshot webpage if you are that interested," Peter laughed. A large breasted Mexican woman passed right by him without noticing him rubbing her ass against his face, "One of the many perks of the job," Peter smiled but then a trail of seven of her kids stamped over him, poking him and knocking him down as if he were a child in their way – wiping the smile right back off again. "I could have sworn one of those girls had the exact same outfit Jamie has on," Chris said of the eldest girl in the pack of kids to have just run past. "Yeah I noticed that too, short denim skirt, white halter top, but I think she had Dora the Explorer sewn on to the back of hers," Peter grinned, "Hey, in the poor side of town, I don't know if it's just that air condition costs so damned much to run, or if Mexican families just have less taboos about showing off their bodies. All I can say is coming to J-mart is the poor man's titty bar," "That's gross, that girl was like fourteen at most, she still has braces!" Jerry chided his brother – he had come back for the promised blowjob. "I can take my break for fifteen minutes," he added. "Hey, there is no harm in looking. When I was a teenager I liked teenage girls, you mean to say I gotta stop liking them?" Peter asked "Well, I understand that it's j-just," Jerry stammered. Peter imitated his brother, "Oh there is a beautiful, thin, uncorrupted graceful body, with rock hard abs and perfect little titties just budding under my paper thin shirt – it's ugly to me, because I am 42 now and Jerry!" After paying for the stuff in the cart they walked outside the store and around to where the dumpster was. This was where most employees came to smoke on their break and it seemed for Jamie and Wendy where they took women to suck their dicks. Wendy wasn't sure whether or not she felt sorry for Jerry or was willing to laugh at Peter's antics – she was leaning towards feeling sorry for Jerry despite how hilarious Peter's imitation actually was. "Hey, Ass fart? How old are you?" Peter asked as they approached the dumpster. "I am sixteen, Sir." Jamie answered honestly jutting out her chin and chest at the same time. "So you are ready to let her suck your dick, she is old enough to go to school with your son, what's his name?" Peter was making a point. "Sheldon, and she does go to school with my son." Jerry admitted while he stood inside the cement barrier next to the smelly dumpster with a look of disgust creeping across his face. Jamie wanted to correct him that she had been kicked out but kept quiet, despite her difficulty with deception by omission – she knew it wasn't an important detail or maybe she was just a little embarrassed to admit it right now. "Oh? You must have really hated that kid to give him a name like Sheldon, I thought I got picked on as a kid, but Jesus Christ Bro, Is Uncle Peter going to have to hook this boy up so he isn't a virgin anymore?" "I think that's probably unnecessary." Jerry stammered. "Actually, mom you fucked Sheldon didn't you?" Chris asked his mom point blank. "Should we undress completely Sir?" Wendy avoided the question – this was technically before her daughter had started having sex and she was keeping it secret. She crossed her arms and held on to the sides of her half-top as if to pull it over her head on command. "Why, do you plan on getting that much cum all over your tits?" Peter laughed. "No, it's just sometimes people want me naked for blowjobs, Sir." Wendy whimpered. "What is it going to be Jerry, do you want the two of them naked, or just whip it out and get to it?" Peter asked his brother. "You two aren't going to stand back here while it happens?" Jerry stuttered in concern. "Why? Me and Chris here, we double-teamed them just about fifteen minutes ago, but she's my girlfriend." Peter turned to Wendy "So you are willing to suck his dick with your daughter, and tell us the story about Roscoe P. Coletrain or whatever the fuck, right?" "Well, Actually he sounds like he would like to hear about how his son and his friends ravaged me over at the book store one night while they played Magic the gathering." Wendy popped off her top aggressively – not waiting for orders. "No, I think the Roscoe story will be just fine actually," Jerry had a suspicion that the night he drove her home from Buford's emporium and when he stopped at his ex-wife's house and Wendy had walked off with his son that something had happened. He had been in denial about it and had a lingering jealousy that his teenage son had done something even with a full day in charge of her as her 'key holder' at work, he hadn't. She dropped her skirt on the ground revealing her bare, bald cunt and walked over to Jerry like she was going to ravage him wearing only a dog collar and high heeled shoes that showed off her rock hard ass perfectly. "I'd really like to tell you Jerry, how hung your son is, can I see if you are as hung?" She bent down in front of him and pulled his dick out to look at it. "Well that's okay, you probably have a lot of other good qualities," Wendy said with an edge to her voice that sounded like she was thinking about cutting his dick completely off. It scared Jerry and it was starting to scare the others. Peter was laughing – he liked edgy. He fancied himself a sort of Joe Pesci or Danny DeVito type of guy and his sense of humor was a little dangerous. "They all made me a prize in their card game, Jerry and then," Wendy bent at the knee so she could drive her mouth on his cock and suck it, but pulled herself off the entire length quickly "took me in the bathroom and fucked me in every hole. There were five of them Jerry, your son's friends and him choke fucked me over a toilet." "I think I want to stop now, this was a mistake," Jerry started to move away but Wendy would not let him put his cock back in his pants – she held on to it and raked it with her fingernails like a cat with a mouse in its claws. "Cow tits?" Chris tried to establish his control over his mom but she wouldn't listen. She sucked Jerry's dick just enough to wet it and then told how she just ACCIDENTALLY ran into Vicky at the bookstore. "I wonder how she knew I might be there, Jerry?" Wendy said with a subtle anger in her voice. "You know coincidences happen, I didn't call her, that's too late for me to call her," Jerry was in denial. "You know your boy took me to Olive Garden and played footsie with me. I was his first date," Wendy was being malicious and ignoring Chris's command to stop. "Then he tied me up naked in the woods, where I spent the entire night until my son and owner came to retrieve me, did you know that, Jerry?" Peter was laughing and saying how hot the story was, Jamie was confused and asking her mom to stop and Chris was just listening to how this played out. "Okay, I am sorry! I did tell her everything about what you were doing, but you have to understand, I love you." Jerry blurted out. "You love me? So you betrayed me?" Wendy stood up and put her hands on her hips. "You are so beautiful and so perfect, and Bill mistreats you. He tattooed whore on your ass!" "I asked, no I BEGGED him to put this tattoo on my ass, my daughter begged for hers too!" Wendy's tits shook when she spoke because she was seething with rage. "I asked you to come and stay with me, I would have given you a home, and been nice to you," Jerry pleaded. It was obvious the man was lonely after a bitter divorce but he was also clingy and pathetic. "You took away my home!" Wendy's rage was starting to boil over. "If you had not have fed Vicky all that information about what was happening at work, she couldn't have arranged to get me fired the day you were made my handler. If she hadn't gotten me fired and I could prove we had a legal source of income to satisfy our house payments then the bank couldn't foreclose on our house! "Bitterman MADE me do that, that was not my fault, he said I had too!" Jerry's dick had shrunk like putty in Wendy's hand and she let it go like it was made of fire. "Mr. Bitterman made you do what now?" Wendy asked – the others were too stunned to do anything. "Mr. Bitterman and his rotten grand-daughter, they can do nasty things to you, very nasty. I didn't want to but several weeks ago they came to me and made me start procedures to get your house taken away. I know I should have told you, I am so sorry!!" Jerry was nearly groveling. Wendy remained naked – she was so angry and full of adrenalin, but now things just didn't fit. "I thought you said that Mr. Bitterman said he just found out about our situation today, Sir?" Chris and Jamie confirmed that was what they heard and a web of deception started to unravel to Wendy. "Did Bitterman tell you why he wanted our house? Was he working with Vicky all along?" Wendy's questions were going unanswered. Jerry was frightened and he pissed himself while his brother laughed. "Gah, you give all this good information to Vicky, but you can't give me a few crumbs Jerry?" "They don't tell me things, Ma'am. I tell them things I know, and then hope for a reward." Jerry explained pleading for some understanding. "Reward, like what?" Wendy had to repeat the question twice. "I don't know," Jerry was embarrassed and nearly in tears. Pete grabbed his brother by the crotch –which happened to be eye level for him and said, "Answer my girlfriend, I've got piss on my hand and you'll lick this off when you are done." – it was obvious Peter had been the dominant brother and had used this move on him many times before. "God, okay I like young guys, you know football players, athletic builds, and sometimes they send one over," "Why not guys like your son Sheldon?" Chris was feeling like kicking this guy's ass. "There was only one other boy on the Magic the Gathering team that I did that with and it was consensual!" Jerry pleaded. "Chris produced some duct tape from the shopping cart and some metal children's handcuffs he bought in the toy aisle. You cannot buy those in proper toy stores anymore because the paint and metal is all kinds of toxic and well – they are handcuffs, how is that a child's toy? They used to be all the rage back in the days before Nintendo DS when kids liked to play cops and robbers. He peeled off a long strip of tape and approached Jerry and placed a piece across his mouth. Then he took both of Jerry's arms and taped him to the dumpster. "Sluts, if you'll help Jerry out of his clothes." Jerry barely struggled while the girls removed his clothes. "Peter, you don't mind? I mean it is your brother and all?" "No, Jerry is a dick - He did my girl Cowtits wrong," Peter was going along with what was happening as karmic retribution. "Ass face, get your clothes off and kneel by his dick, then flash a piece sign," Chris instructed his sister who obediently did as she was told without hesitation so that Chris could snap some incriminating pictures. Then he took the metal toy handcuffs and popped off the safety latches and placed one on each wrist to connect him to the dumpster "Don't worry ladies, I have more of these, they were only a buck each," Chris laughed at the girls. "I recorded all your admissions on cell phone, check it out." Chris replayed some video from his cell phone of Jerry's admission that he liked athletic young men and Jerry groaned in defeat through the duct tape gag. "Let's see, I bought a marker and some lipstick, ladies what would you like to write on him? He took our house from us." The three of them wrote 'loser' and 'I like young dick' on Jerry in marker all over his hairy, overweight body. "Okay, you won't be out here long, I'll make sure someone from the store comes to find you," Chris pulled the duct tape hard off Jerry's lips – he had long practice with quickly pulling and tearing off duct tape to cause the maximum discomfort. "Aiii, please no? I was just lonely and I got confused. That is all, I will lose this job. It's all I have! All I have!" they could hear him say as the four left the man alone and pleading at the dumpster. "I only helped to take the house, so you would have to come live with meeeee..." They heard him admit as they cleared the back of the store. "Damn, you are a pimp, that was cold and heartless," Peter said with awe of the Taylor's. "He is your brother. You don't mind that we did that Sir?" Jamie was already feeling tremendous guilt about what she had just done – she had felt rage over hearing he had a part in their house being taken away but she wondered how she could have gotten so swept up in vengeance. "Jerry is a scumbag. Come to think of it so am I. However, I would not take your house, all for some gay sex with high school students? I don't think so. He is always complaining and whining. You think all these bad things just happen to Jerry because he has bad luck?" Peter asked while the girls loaded the supplies they bought into the vette and they all got in. "No, it's because he brings bad luck on himself like a man who has his own dark cloud and he wants to take it with him everywhere. His wife was beautiful, she was well educated – I don't know what she saw in him. He had married way above his station in life, for a mook like him or me. Anyway, he starts whining and complaining and she wants to get a job and he gets afraid she is going to be more successful than him." Peter explains as they pull out of the parking lot back to the motel. "So you know, a woman like that wants things – things that you need money to buy and he is holding her back, but she stands by his decision because they got a kid. I knew his name was Sheldon by the way., I just like to break Jerry's balls about that. Jerry wants to over protect the kid and keep him from being bullied so he tries to hide him away from the world – keep him isolated and reading books all the time." Peter winked at Wendy and reached behind him while driving to play with her knee. Meanwhile, Jerry has his head in sports and I guess now I know why – he paid more attention to fantasy football than real life. Jerry wasn't always a little piss-ant accountant – he used to have his own business, a big house in the suburbs of Cherry Lawn – you live there and your shit doesn't stink, so I am told." The Taylor's just grinned and listened to Peter tell the story. "So you think, why oh why does Jerry who has it all have his wife leave him and his kid call another man Dad? It isn't like that at all. You should ask 'Why oh why did Jerry sit back and watch all the signs and have great advice, even from his little brother to tell him to get his head out of his ass and be right, but he didn't do it?'" Peter was on a roll as he drove down Martin Luther King Blvd. The others were listening to the story – but they were thinking about their father because this story sounded curiously like their own. "Even when they hit rock bottom and she left him after all the chances ran out that anyone could ever deserve, she left just a little crack in the door so he could get back in if he just tried to open that crack. You think he did? No he came and sponged off me and whined about alimony and child support and how much his shingles hurt and this and that. I don't know what shingles are and I don't give too much of a shit? I told him I am a fucking midget, when they come up with a cure for that, come talk to me about how bad shingles are, you know what I am saying?" The family had stopped really paying attention to the story – the conclusion was obvious that their father was nowhere nearly as much of a sad sack as Jerry but if he was just left to drift and complain and start to let indecision and doubt rule his life he might end up that way. "We can't let Dad end up that way," Jamie was the first to say what the others were thinking. Chris turned around to look at his sister, "Get your knees apart. I want to see those cunts while we are driving in the 'Vette," he demanded unexpectedly. The girls did as they were told but with a perplexed look on their face. Peter was continuing to describe the slow and excruciating decline of Jerry Cooper pointing out how all of it had been engineered by Jerry Cooper's own flaws and foolish decisions. Chris continued in a hushed whisper "You are a good sister, and a good mom. You deserve a little payback for what Jerry did. At best, he'll lose another job and blame us for the misfortune he brought on himself. I am going to continue to be harsh on you though. I am going to keep you well trained and when we take Dad to the user group forum, I want you to be the best trained sluts you can be. I want you to really impress the shit out of his forum buddies. Agreed?" "Yes Master, whatever it takes to keep dad from turning out like Jerry, I am totally down to fuck, Mom?" Jamie answered her brother and asked her Mom if she agreed. "You even need to ask? I am willing to suck every dick at this forum, while Bill pounds my ass sideways. I just think you should take your father up on the offer of freedom after we finish this weekend." Wendy sounded like her passive-aggressive self as she offered her daughter advice she passionately wanted to give earlier. "Mom?" Jamie said with a look that said I should know better than to talk her out of this as long as I am doing it. "Look, if I take him up on the freedom, I'll get a job working at a Subway sandwich shop if I have too. Will you stop too and go back to school?" The car stopped before Wendy got her answer but she assumed the answer was going to be yes. "Are you guys even listening to my story?" Peter had parked the car at Rahjid's and was perturbed that they seemed to be having a conversation of their own. "More so than you even realize Peter, I really appreciate the ride, you can come inside and watch me get them ready for work and ride one of them yourself if you want too?" Chris snapped his fingers and told the women to get out and bring the supplies inside the cabana. "You know I am down for watching them get their asses cleaned, and shaved but I am not really a fucking kind of guy. I find that at my height, it just doesn't fit the way it should and I am not able to get the right leverage. I think that is why I like pissing on bitches." "Maybe after what I learned from Roscoe today, I could show you how a smaller person could do it, Sir." Jamie offered pleasingly carrying several bags of snacks and two brooms into the cabana. "Oh this Roscoe sounds like a helluva guy, he is short like me?" Peter followed her inside with Chris followed by Wendy bringing in the rest of the stuff. "Oh he is shorter, much, much shorter," she smiled as the cabana screen door slammed shut behind them. ------- Chapter 30 Wendy's Journal: Unless Life also hands you sugar and water – your lemonade is going to suck Note to reader: This is Wendy's journal from Wednesday approximately 6pm after she finishes shopping with her son and Peter and is in the process of putting away the supplies they bought. In order to increase readability, some of the dialogue exchanged was altered to appear in a 'narrative' story format. CASH EARNINGS WEDNESDAY WENDY: $385 JAMIE: $345 "It sucks that there is no TV in here," My son was complaining as we arrived back at the cabana. "Television? It sucks that there is no fucking air freshener in here. It smells like a dog turd in Oprah's vagina in here. Open a fucking window or something." Peter locked the screen door open so we could bring the supplies in and get a little airflow. Now one thing I should say is I don't normally complain about having big tits. I mean, who would? I have grown so used to these big, bulbous orbs jutting out from my chest that I can't remember what it was like to have little titties. I never had nice, pert and perky ones like Jamie does. There have been times that I've tried to assuage the guilt of paying for the surgery instead of going on more family vacations since this began. There have also been times when I recognized the hubris of vanity that made me buy them in the first place, with the belief that they would help my career by giving me self-confidence. I remember walking with my shoulders back with all this swagger when I first got these high-set boulders on my chest and thinking this was going to pay for itself. Granted, now that I am not allowed to wear a bra and I am sporting silver ringlets in my nipples, I get a lot of creepy stares from men and evil glances from women who think I am a man-stealing cunt. I have ALMOST gotten used to that. However, because I have not been allowed to express my milk, I can feel it hanging heavy in my boobs. I can imagine it sloshing around in the muscle and straining to pump out of my nipples if only someone would stimulate them. It can be frustrating but I've agreed to keep up the discipline and I am going to. I know I could at any time just tell Chris, "Look, if you want me to keep doing this, you have to permit me a few freedoms unless you are going to maintain the milking times your father insisted on," or something but that would undermine Chris. It also won't help me. Surprisingly, staying in a submissive mindset allows me to deal better with what I am going to have to do to make this money. It is to my benefit to let Chris and Peter have their yucks at my expense, along with their pinches and gropes, because if I get too casual and revert to my old nature, I will probably start to backpedal and lose all my motivation to finish what I started. I was carrying in the stuff my son bought, mostly snacks for himself, and a few hygiene products for us when I heard a truck pull into the motel parking lot. I turned around hoping that it was Bill. No, it was just a guy coming for one of the other girls, a regular by the looks of him and very familiar with the cabana of choice. I followed the others inside. I was chewing my lip and thinking about my tits and about a million things. If my husband was going to come back or not was one of the big ones at the top of the pile. I don't want to think about it too much but in the back of my mind, maybe he just ran back to his Mom's house? "I know your mom is a crazy psycho bitch and all but is she going to cream me if I tell her an order?" I heard Jerry say just as I realized I was daydreaming. "Mom, that broom is going even FURTHER up your ass tonight if you don't move it and strip like a good little slut!" My son grabbed my nipples and twisted hard, causing my knees to buckle. "I am sure my mom will be reasonable Peter, if you just motivate her properly. Jerry, that wimp, had that coming," he explained to his new- found compatriot. "Yes Master, I am sorry!" I set down the supplies and stripped as quickly as I could to fall in with my daughter in position one. I stood with my aching tits out and shoulders back, shoulders width apart with my hands pulling my ass cheeks apart, waiting. I wondered to myself and questioning if I had just basically RAPED Jerry. What was wrong with me that I went off like that? I mean, yes, he put papers in motion that lost me a house that I had been paying payments on for years. Yes, he fed information to my office rival that led to my termination and the loss of a job I worked my ass off for. However, did I have a right to leave him handcuffed and naked to a dumpster? Isn't treating my son and husband like that how I ended up agreeing to karmic payback? But who is to say what I did to Jerry wasn't me acting as an agent of karma and not just the retribution from a pissed off chick? It is a dangerous thing to start thinking your motivations to hurt others is righteous. I would so like to give some payback Vicky and, for that matter, Mr. Bitterman and his rotten granddaughter in the same way but would that not make me just as bad as them? I felt a tiny kick to my ass cheek so I turned my head. Peter was lying on the bed kicking me, "I say, do you watch 'Sons of Anarchy'?" he repeated. "I am sorry Sir, I am not allowed to watch TV anymore but back when I could, I don't recall that show," I said without apologizing that I had ignored him in the first place. I was getting sloppy; not by a lot but enough that I noticed I wasn't giving my all to behaving submissively. "You really should. Well I guess you can't now, anyway. There isn't a TV in this fungus-infested rat-hole but it's a show about these bikers. I was going to say that you bear a strong resemblance to Katy Sagal's character. After watching you go crazy on my brother, I would say you probably act like her too." I really wasn't sure how to respond to that. He wasn't looking at my face to see my expression anyway. He was looking straight at my asshole as he talked to me from on top of the bed. "Oh?" was all I could think of to say. "Yeah, her name is Gemma and she is sort of this bad-ass momma bear type. She'll fuck someone up who messes with her family. It is really god-damned sexy!" Peter lay back on the bed and looked up, not awaiting a response from me. I remembered her from 'Married with Children' and wasn't quite sure how to take that. Did she still have the big 1980s hair and hot pants in Sons of Anarchy? I turned around to look straight ahead again and saw Chris walking out of the bathroom. "Okay, it's going to stink in there for a while, which is good news for you two skanks since you two are going to shave those pussies right here instead so we can watch." he quipped. "Amen brother!" Peter clapped his hands in appreciation of the show he was about to witness. "Master, your sister and I, we haven't finished milking ourselves today, could we do that first please?" I asked very nicely. "Awww, are those nipples sore?" Chris asked me in a child-like mocking tone that instantly told me my request was already denied. "Yes sir," I swallowed, knowing he was going to fuck with me some more. I could hear Peter rip open a bag of potato chips from behind me with a chuckle. "Has your comfort ever been my concern when you started this with us?" Chris asked a very appropriate question. "No sir," I answered truthfully. It certainly hadn't been. "You are doing that thing where you bite down hard, as if you have something to say but are afraid to say it," Chris observed "Do you have something to say, cunt?" "Yes Sir," I had a dozen things I could say and should say but I went with, "Please accept my apology for thinking of my own discomfort when I should be entertaining you and your friend and preparing myself and my daughter to work tonight. I would be happy to shave her body so that it is hairless and smooth to the touch. Thank you for reminding me of my place." "Oh snap, that is so fucking cool, bro!" Peter called out from behind me, obviously elated that my son was dressing me down. "So nice of you to agree. You've become a little mouthy and resistant. Is that because Dad isn't here to put you in your place?" Chris ran his fingers along my pussy lips then began fingering my clit hood and flicking my piercing. I wish he had not asked me that question since I did not want to undermine his confidence. "I admit that I have been feeling it just like Mom, Sir." Jamie abruptly answered on my behalf. "I haven't been giving this my all and I've been lax in my behavior. I am sorry too, Sir." I knew she was a good-natured girl who felt guilty about keeping secrets but I hadn't seen her answer a question meant for me before. The doubts and concerns I have must be eating away at her as well. "I do not recall asking you, Ass Fart, but you both earned yourself some punishment to correct these attitudes. You girls don't run this shit; I run this shit!" He put his thumb to his chest and then sniffed it. "Mom, I smell your wet cunt. Are you turned on right now?" "I am, well, I am wet right now, Master," I could hear Peter's laugh as I stumbled over the answer. Why was I so aroused? Had it been the adrenalin from kicking Jerry's ass? "You know," Peter spoke to Chris, "from behind I can see your mother's pussy between her legs hanging down like a big puffy oyster with the shadow of her clit ring but I can't see your sister's little clam. I can only see that diamond stud in her ass." "Which do you like more?" Chris looked over at him, giving us a temporary reprieve from whatever punishment we had coming. "Actually, I prefer to see their assholes naked completely. They look like brown little balloon knots. Can they take the plugs out for a while?" Peter asked politely, leaving the mental image of my asshole as a child's party toy in my mind. "You heard the man. Cow Tits, get on your knees and remove Ass Fart's plug then let her do the same to you," Chris commanded. I dutifully remained facing him, squatted behind my daughter still holding my own ass cheeks apart and collected her butt plug with my teeth. Then I stood back in place with the stainless steel plug hanging out of my mouth while she did the same. "Those are really nice turd-cutters," Peter sounded impressed by our bare asses. It felt good to have the plug released but, at the same time, I had grown used to its weight. I wondered if that was a metaphor for what I was doing now with my life. "You know my sister can swallow two strings and in an hour they will come out the other end tied in a knot." Chris said seriously. I don't remember him ever trying this with me. "Really?" Peter was amazed. I knew Jamie was talented but I never heard of this. "I shit you knot!" Chris made a play on words to laughter from Peter and even smirks from us. "We used to keep them without anything crammed up their asses all the time, but Dad felt they needed to keep them occupied." Chris walked behind us to look himself. "You know, you are right. I think the diamond plug peeking out of their ass cheeks is a good sign of their obedience but I really like seeing their balloon knots. I like that term by the way. Ladies, take each other's ass plugs out of your mouths and thank Peter for making this suggestion." "Thank you Peter" we said in unison. I wanted to roll my eyes that he was making me agree with the man who suggested he liked looking at my asshole because it reminded him of a balloon. There is a weird feeling you get in the pit of your stomach when your dignity starts to evaporate completely. The loss of control makes your nerves start to pulse. I wish I could explain that feeling better. I've felt enough of it that I should be able to describe it. "I didn't say keep them out of your mouth forever," Chris chuckled and ordered us to put them back the other way around so we could clean them. "That's it, really suck and wash those plugs," Chris laughed. "Who has a tighter pussy?" Peter asked. "Well, actually I've never fucked my mom but I've had my fingers in there and Jamie and I were both born there so I guess my sister's is tighter," Chris began to apply clothes pins to our pussy lips as he explained. "Damn, you can do all this to her and you never fucked her?" Peter was surprised. "Well, I've fucked her in the ass, and she's sucked my dick, and licked my cum off Jamie's cunt. Does that count?" Chris answered calmly while the little bastard attached another painful biting clip to my pussy. "How did that sweet-sweet cum taste when you licked off your daughter's sweet-sweet pussy?" Peter yowled with amusement at me. "Swfeet, sir?" I mumbled around the butt plug in my mouth. I was not sure what to say but the answer seemed to please him. "I bet it did! I bet it did!" Peter laughed and rolled lazily on our bed. He reminded me of Rumplestilskin, the impish gnome from fairytales who seems to tease and cajole while he spins gold for you. "I'm going to punish you last," Chris said. I wondered if I had said, 'You mean THIS wasn't the punishment, Sir?' would have been received as funny or made the punishment even worse so I refrained since I wasn't sure of the answer this time. "You two get down on all fours and get your enemas then I will let you milk each other while you hold them in." He sounded like he genuinely felt that was cutting us some slack. We dutifully obeyed with the butt plugs still in our mouth, stretching out like dogs on the dingy floor. "Notice how Ass Fart's nipples are pink, soft and about the size of a quarter while your mom's are dark and much bigger? What is that all about?" Peter asked my son. I felt as if I was under evaluation and, so far, Jamie came out ahead in every single category. "Well, obviously Mom's tits are fake." Chris held up one of my boobs in his palm and let it bounce back into place. "Yeah, natural is much nicer." Peter had no qualms about making his preferences known. "We keep stretching and fattening up the nipples though. The piercings really make them stand up, you know what I mean?" "Yeah, they make me stand up too," Peter mused playfully. "I think I like your mom's pussy more overall though." I can't believe that I was actually flattered and relieved to have won one of his evaluations. "The daughter has sort of just a thin line and then her clit hood is sticking out. Your mom on the other hand has sort of a meaty pocket of folds. It looks extra juicy." "Ass Face's cunt would be a hairless slit if we didn't have the piercing in her clit. They pulled it out of her pussy so that it is always being stimulated and exposed," Chris said as if he were describing the most ordinary thing in the world. "Damn, maybe I changed my mind on which honey-hole I like more. So you are always wet, little girl?" Peter sounded so creepy when he said that. It made my skin crawl. "Yes sir, I am almost always at least slightly aroused, and turned on." Once I heard Jamie's admission I was just a little more creeped out than I thought I should be. "Stop flirting, and get on the ground so I can clean the shit out of your fat asses," Chris shoved his sister playfully and we both took the ordered position to be obedient little sluts while Peter and Chris grinned. A fleet enema with absolutely no lubrication was jammed up my ass unceremoniously. I could feel the flow of the saline solution into my ass as Chris gave the bottle a hard squeeze. "How often do you guys do enemas?" Peter was watching with his elbow propping him up while he lay like a decadent Roman Emperor on his royal divan. "We like to clean them out of all the shit they've got packed away at least once a day. The rig we have at home is really nice. It is a double bag model and we had a goat milker we could turn on when they were getting the enema!" Chris sounded really proud as he described the hardware he and his father bought from Buford's store. "Oh wow, they get so much water packed up their backside that I bet you can hear the ocean when you put your ear to your mom's butthole." Peter joked. I admit that I almost spit out the butt plug laughing. That sounded like the kind of joke that Chris would tell. I managed to keep my composure though as Chris started Jamie's enema. Chris left the bottle up turned in our asses and we were expected to sort of wiggle-wiggle it like a puppy-dog tail. That really seemed to amuse Peter. "We have a neighbor who gave us this recipe for Waxerman's Magical Wonder Tonic. You use pepper, lemon juice, hot sauce, milk and a little castor oil. It definitely binds them up and cleans them out," Chris explained to his friend while they watched us wait for the bottles' contents to empty into our bottoms. "You two spill a drop of it and you will lick it up! You have five minutes to milk each other. Mom you go first and then Jamie is second. I will tell you when you have reached the half-way point." Chris had called us both by our old names. I wondered if he too was getting a little lazy enforcing discipline or if it had been an innocent mistake. Maybe it was Freudian and he didn't realize his doubts about his dad were driving some of his behavior. I got to my knees, reached under my daughter and began tugging her nipples hard as if I was milking a cow. I gave her an extra hard twist and crushed her nipples between my thumb and forefinger as I had earlier today when Peter had first walked in on us. It did not take long for Jamie to start spraying her milk into a small Tupperware bowl that Chris had put under her. I could feel the enema doing its work in my intestines and it already seemed to be begging for release. I could also see Jamie was having a hard time keeping it together. Between her nipples and now her ass needing release she was getting signals from both ends. I could see her strain not to let any of the water drip out while she maintained her position with the enema bottle planted in her ass. "Okay, time!" Chris announced and my daughter and I switched positions with each other. She gave me even harder, more painful tugs than I had and I could hear her grunt hard. I could feel myself getting aroused from the pleasure of releasing my milk and I was getting worried that I was going to have a rolling orgasm and not be able to control my sphincter muscles. I bit my lip. This wouldn't be the worst mess I've cleaned up, I thought to myself as I quietly hoped it would be over soon. I looked down and saw the same blue bowl under my chest filling up with our milk. "Can I drink that at the end?" Peter asked. "Gross, normally I make them lap it up like kitties," Chris explained. "Boi-oh-oing, oing!!!" Peter made a spring noise with his mouth to emphasize how hot he thought that was. I spit out the butt plug. I was going to explode like a volcano and there was no holding back the brown lava. "I can't hold it anymore!" Jamie ran into the bathroom with me and we both took either side of the toilet with one leg/raised our legs side by side and released the enema backwash at the same time. I knew I was in for some trouble. "I am sorry, Master! I am so sorry!!" Chris was already standing over us "You weren't told to release and you certainly aren't allowed to use a toilet bowl like one of us, you little fucking drippy-cunted bitches!" There was fire in his eyes. "You aren't taking me serious, are you?" He pulled me by my hair and Jamie by her nipple out of the bathroom and over by the bed. We still had clips on our pussies and Jamie had her silver butt plug in her mouth. "You dropped Pussy Fart's plug. You need to put it back in your mouth!" He demanded of me. I crawled back down on the floor and crept to where I had dropped the plug, picked it up and returned to my feet. "Position one!" We returned to our earlier position at Chris's command. "Gross, bro, aren't you going to let them wipe after all that ass-blasting they just did in the toilet?" Peter laughed. It hadn't been solid but I was very wet back there from the splash back from the bowl. "Why waste toilet paper on skanky cunts when they can use their tongues for something other than bitching that Dad isn't here?" Chris's snark sounded deadly serious. I thought about saying something but I chickened out. "Yeah, save a tree, feed a ho." Peter thought that was a great idea. He is a mean little perv. Chris directed us to remove the plugs from our mouth then one at a time kneel in front of them and beg to clean the other's ass. We had to beg and beg, humiliating ourselves in front of Peter. I had half a mind to get up, smack him and yell at him that we had had enough but I knew that would crush his new found confidence and I didn't want to do that to him. I didn't know what Jamie was thinking but I'm sure it was something along the line that if Mom can do this then so can I. With the revelation about her being excited all of the time, it helped explain why she seemed to derive so much pleasure out of our humiliation. It would be some kind of reinforcement loop that if she does all of these nasty things, she'll get to get off. I must have been doing something right while I was thinking about all of this because Peter selected me first. Jamie got down on her shoulders and knees and reached back to expose her filthy ass to me. I got down behind her and began to lick the nasty tasting remnants of the enema off her ass and out of her ass crack. I did a fair job of cleaning Jamie. I barely drove my tongue in and out of her little clamshell slit. I was just about done when I noticed her left leg nervously starting to twitch and then she took her hands from her ass cheeks and rested them on the top of my head for balance. At least that is what I thought. "What are you doing, Ass Fuck? You are supposed to let Mom clean you, not get off on it." Chris hit her hard with a length of the broom handle across the ass. I thought Jamie was going to quit right then. Her ice blue eyes stared into him hard. I left my tongue on her pink, parted lips while waiting to hear what Jamie would do. She removed her hands from the top of my head and placed them behind her to hold her ass cheeks apart. "I am sorry, Master. I know that was wrong of me. Cow Tits, would you please clean my ass now? I was getting too much pleasure from your tongue on my cunt. Thank you, Sir, for reminding me of my place." Her sweet voice had a conflicted anguish to it. "Good, but you don't ask your mom to do anything anymore." Chris ordered me to finish on her asshole and put the broom down. "I kind of want to fill up the bottle with piss and give them a piss enema," Peter said as if that awkward exchange hadn't just happened or perhaps in spite of it in order to change the subject. "You can do that next time. At the end I give them an inspection and if their booties are clean and empty, we'll get them back outside so they can start filling them with dicks." "Nigger dicks, Mexican dicks, Haitian dicks, old men dicks, big dicks, needle dicks, which dicks do you like least, little girl?" Peter inquired of Jamie. "Dog dicks, I think," Chris teased his sister and Peter made a 'Wowww' face. I thought Jamie was going to bite my labia off at first since she bit down just a bit. But then she just reeled her tongue back in from polishing my clit ring and said just as sweetly as an angel next door, "Actually, all dick is welcome in any of my holes, Sir." "Boy-oh-oing-Boying!" Peter made an exaggerated spring noise. "My boner just got a boner!" He laughed and Chris laughed with him. "Yo dawg, I heard you liked hard dicks so I put a hard dick on your hard dick so you can fuck your bitch while you fuck your bitch!" Chris was fond of saying that he heard 'you liked something so he put that same thing on it, so you can do it while you do it.' I remember he used to say that sometimes even before this training began. I regret though not listening to him more. It took being his bitch for me to really do that. I know that sounds corny but I am very thankful I've had to listen to him now because he has a lot of things to say and he has felt like no one has heard him for years. That could be why he has stuffed his face and played dumb. He thought that was what people wanted him to do. Let me correct that; it's not just 'people, ' it was Bill and I that made him feel that way. I share equal responsibility in that. Jamie quietly finished cleaning me off and Chris ordered us to get the shaving cream and 'lube up' on the carpet. "I like the tattoo work. Reminds me of a guy's tattoo parlor not too far from here," Peter complimented us. "Thank you sir, we got it at the county fair," Jamie answered on her own behalf. "I got a tattoo," Peter rolled up his sleeve to show his 51% motherfucker, and 49% Sonavabitch tattoo. Then he joked, "In your case, you are 100% motherfucker," to Chris with a tone of admiration. "Technically, I am 100% son of a bitch and brother of one too," Chris laughed. We were already on the ground squatting. We did what we did every morning we had been trained together. We began to play our imaginary game of twister where we both have to bend and twist in such a way so that we can shave each other completely. That included pulling apart each other's folds and really making sure there isn't a single strand of hair or peach fuzz standing. "She gonna shave your mom's mustache?" Peter called from the bed. He seemed to enjoy looking down on us on the floor more than us standing. I have to admit a fresh barb of humiliation ran through me as I heard him say that. I knew I didn't have a mustache, years of electrolysis had eliminated that. However, it still hurt to think of myself with a little rim of hair on my lip. My daughter and I writhed on the ground with the slippery gel shaving cream on our skin as we finished shaving each other in every nook and cranny of our bodies. We had become rather skilled at managing this quickly and efficiently while still putting on a little show for Bill and Chris while they supervised. "Which one of these two is your favorite?" Peter asked curiously. "I dunno, I don't think I have a favorite," Chris answered while watching us shave each other. "C'mon, everyone with dogs or kids plays favorites," Peter was right and I know I had played favorites with Jamie over Chris. I was hoping Peter didn't dwell on it. "Nah, I try to kick both their asses evenly. It's not fair to favor one over the other just because they are most like you, is it mom?" Chris asked passive-aggressively. I knew what he was asserting. "No, Master. I am sorry that I favored your sister over you and didn't give you the attention and respect you deserve. Am I making up for it now?" I answered as I shaved my daughter's leg while locking myself into a scissor position so she could shave mine. "You gotta love seeing their asses like this every day, huh?" Peter changed the subject because either it was obviously a sore spot for us or he was just bored. "I have every crease in their asses memorized. Even when this is over, I'll be jerking off to memories of this for the rest of my life," Chris admitted. I could see his sister's face register with what seemed like quiet pride while she worked on removing all my body hair. "What do you mean, this ends?" Peter was surprised. "Yeah, it didn't always used to be like this between us. They have to remain my little bitch until we finish something this weekend but after that it's up to them." Chris sounded like he was wondering what would happen next week. I am a planner by nature and I was surprised I had not spent more time wondering. I was too busy trying to focus on the right now and immediate future. My mind was on Chris hitting his sister with a heavy broom. When we had 'Bill's Bill, ' we had rules and a goal. The stars were positive reinforcement and the infraction and correction cards were the consequences for our failing to be obedient. There were boundaries and limits that we could understand. They had hit us with paddles, whips, floggers and the pain was really measured in the skill of the person swinging it. However, I could not help but wonder if that broom hadn't been a thin kitchen broom but a heavy handle like a garden shovel. Would that have made it ok? Did we agree to 'everything?' I had been released from my obligation to Bill and Chris. This was overtime to try to get us to the user group forum. Could I not just ask for a break from the discipline if I wanted one? Thoughts like that began to occur to me when I heard Jamie make a 'hsss' sound. I had nicked her. "I am sorry Jamie!!" I saw the look in her face that told me she was mad but she just choked it back and said, "That's okay WENDY". I had just nicked her and it wasn't bleeding at all but I knew it felt like a paper cut on her inner ass cheek between her crack. I wondered if she was debating the same things I was in my head or if she had concluded that she would take whatever was dished out. "Okay, before you cut yourselves to ribbons, stand up. You can shower after you get inspected so you can get to work but I need to punish you both for dropping the enema early, for Mom's wet pussy, for Jamie's little orgasm freak out, and most of all so you understand who owns those precious cunts of yours." We stood up and got back into position one. "Keep your legs apart and your hands on your asscheeks, Cunt." Chris started with me. He had the broom handle and swung it like a golf club up into my crotch. He drove the first one into the very center of my legs, landing a perfect bullseye for pain on my clit and pussy. I groaned in misery for the next three strikes before I started to anticipate them so I could ride the wave of pain with each strike. "Dad is not here, do you understand, Cow tits?" "Yes Sir" I wanted to buckle and fall over by the fifth one and it was killing me not to at least use my hands to defend myself. "Your whore is going to have one sore snatch," Peter laughed adding, "I bet she'll want to take it in the ass instead." "Well then I better give her the remainder of her strokes on that hole to even her out. That way both are equally unpleasant," Chris walked behind me and wound up the broom to give it a swing but managed only to swipe my right ass cheek with it. "Who owns that asshole?" Chris was getting angry. "Your Dad, you and Rahjid, Master." I grunted as he landed the next one on the other cheek. "Dad gave up, now it's just me and Rahjid, but he only owns it when you are working. So now who owns that stinker?" Chris hit me directly on my budding butthole. "Grrah," I roared in pain. The flat of the broom with sudden force hitting the tender part of the nerve center around my asshole shocked me. "You own it, Master!" I pleaded. He delivered another strike crossways on both ass cheeks. "Does Dad still own it?" I did not want to answer so he struck another time but even harder. I knew there would be a purple bruise for a long time from the broom handle. "Look, Dad's not here. It's time to do your job though," Chris whizzed the broom around and the whistle it made in the air sounded far worse than the beating I was getting at his hands. That is when the door opened and we all stopped and looked at the screen door as it slammed behind him. "Don't look so happy ta see me," he said. We were stunned. No one moved a muscle. I stood frozen in place while Chris held the broom handle inches away from delivering another strike to my ass. "Don't let me stop you. It looks like you were teaching them a lesson. I can wait," he folded his arm and stood in the doorway casually. I had hoped beyond hope it was Bill, having just needed a little bit of time to cool off and regroup. Alas, it was a fully uniformed officer with a thick Boston accent and what looked like the largest night stick I had ever seen. "Officer Mark, to what do we owe the pleasure of one of your timely visits?" Peter obviously knew him though. "Mini-Me, so low ta the ground. I should have assumed you'd worm your way around here. Giving these girls a hahd time ah you?" His accent was thick as he looked with contempt at Mini-me sprawled out on the bed watching. Chris put the broom down by his side but Jamie and I remained as we were, hands on ass cheeks and all. "I heard there were some bizah new girls around in dog collars. I wanted ta check 'em out for myself," Officer Mark was chewing gum in cadence with his words. He didn't seem overly alarmed that we were naked and being beaten but we all felt we were in danger of going to jail. "Ma'am, is this young man bothering you? Perhaps you'd like ta file a complaint?" he addressed me. He had a swagger about him and as he moved the leather holster and gear on his belt made an obvious and intimidating sound. "No Sir, no complaint. I asked him to do it to me," I was nervous. Officer Mark had a square head like you picture a burly marine having. He seemed skeptical of my words as he sucked in air and continued chewing his gum. His walkie-talking squawked something incomprehensible and there was what felt like a long and awkward silence. "Okay, and what is your story broom-boy, you her pimp or what? He asked Chris. "I am her son," Chris was nervous and I assume he thought that denying we were prostitutes was the best strategy. "Son?" he chuckled. "That is a first on me," He picked up his walkie-talking and spoke some code to answer the squawking and set it back in his holster. "That true Ma'am, this man who was assaulting you with a broom is your son?" "He is my son," I wondered if I should just admit the truth since everyone here at the motel was involved in prostitution. "I volunteered for him to do this, Sir." He chewed his gum some more as if trying to determine what was really going on. "Do you ladies have any ID? A passport or license I can see." Peter spit out hysterical laughter and hollered, "Show him, sluts!" We weren't sure what to say or do. I was waiting for Chris to talk on our behalf. "C'mon ladies, let's see it," Officer Mark reiterated while chewing impatiently. Jamie bent at the waist and released her cheeks to select her butt plug and held it up. "He is talking about this, Sir." Officer Mark took the butt plug from her in his gloved hand and stared at it as he was trying to decipher it. "Ass Face?" he asked her. "Yes sir, that's sort of my name." The corners of the officer's mouth curled up in a half-smile as if he was slightly amused. "This thing got a birth date on it?" He smacked his gum as he inferred that he was asking how old she was. "It doesn't, sir," Jamie replied sweetly. "Let me rephrase the question, sweetheart," he smacked his gum "How old are you?" I knew Jamie was honest to a fault but I also knew that everyone in the room, including herself, could get in a lot of trouble for her being under 18. "I am sixteen, Sir." Jamie isn't used to lying but I could tell she had at least considered it and how hesitant her answer was, as if she had decided that it was inevitable that he would find out anyway. "The age of consent in this state is 16 but you are awfully young to be working the streets. I take it this is your mom, too?" Officer Mark handed her back the butt plug. "Yes Sir, she is," Jamie sounded less nervous in this answer. "You two have been building up quite a reputation for yourselves in a short time, you know." His smile broadened a little as he looked my daughter's naked body up and down. "Didn't agree to let brother use the broom on you?" "I am next, I think Sir," Jamie stared at him in awe. She had always been taught to respect authority and this uniformed beat cop seemed to embody the square-jawed, steel-boot kind of rugged policeman stereotype. "I think that is a shame. You sure you want him to beat you with a broom? Your mom isn't forcing you?" he let the words hover in the air like he was throwing her a life-line to tell him she was being abused. "She isn't forcing me, sir. I asked for this discipline," Jamie said looking at Chris for some sense of whether she should say as much. Chris was nervously checking his shoes for the fifteenth time. I should know since I was doing it as well. The officer's shoes were shiny enough that I could see the reflection of my sore twat in them. "What did you do to deserve a punishment?" Mark patiently chewed his gum and fidgeted with the handcuffs in his belt, the sound inferring we might go to jail. "Hey Offissah Mahk, did you pahk the caw in Bahstan Yahd?" Peter mocked Mark's accent to break the awkward silence but the officer just ignored him and continued looking at my daughter for a response. "It isn't going to make a lot of sense, Sir," Jamie tried to excuse herself from responding. "Try me. I hear all kinds of unbelievable shit every single day," "Well, for one I didn't hold the enema I had in until I was permitted to shit," Jamie waited to see if Officer Mark was going to stop her right there, her bright blue eyes scanning his face for some reaction. He remained stone faced with the hint of a smile on the edge of his mouth. "Then when my mom was cleaning me up, I had an uncontrollable orgasm and held her by the head to my cunt while she ate me out," Jamie's face silently implored him to allow her to stop explaining before she continued. "Lastly, it was an attitude adjustment, to establish he is the boss, and we need to learn our place, Taylor men come first." She returned the officer's stern gaze. "Wicked, I figured maybe you just didn't make enough money last night. That is why most pimps beat their hos," Officer Mark turned his attention away from my daughter after putting her on the spot like that. "I actually came here for Mini-me." He turned his attention to Peter who looked very uncomfortable. "I didn't do anything wrong. Why are you guys always hassling me?" Peter replied defensively. "I know Mini-me, you never do anything," he laughed in disbelief. "Actually, this time it's your brother Jerry. He was tied up and left naked at a dumpster again." I saw Chris and Jamie smirking. "Again?" Had they noticed that last word? "Okay, you want me to come bail him out of jail again?' Peter replied. "He said his alleged attackers were a particular midget matching your description, a fat, lumpy blonde haired teenager, one well-tanned woman in her thirties with sizable knockers and a blonde cheerleader type approximately sixteen both wearing minimal clothing," Officer Mark stopped talking to await Peter's response. "Yeah, so?" Peter asked incredulously. "Thought you might know someone who fit that description?" Officer Mark put his hands on his black lacquered gun belt and adjusted it. "No, but I would be happy to keep my eye out and let you know if I come across them," Peter answered coyly. Officer Mark did not seem like he was willing to continue playing games. "Okay, Okay, I did see them," Peter stood up to give himself up and I relaxed my hands off my ass. I guess we were going to jail. Peter reached into his pocket "Do the four of them look a little like Andrew Jackson?" He held up four twenties for the officer. Mark popped his gum and made no move, implying that was not the right idea, or just maybe not enough cash. "Fine, I know two of them who look like Benjamin Franklin," Peter offered two hundred dollar bills. "Good," Mark collected the four twenties AND the two hundred dollar bills "He is sitting out in the car. I'll release him to your custody and say our investigation was inconclusive. Pleasure doin business with yaz'." Peter followed him outside complaining about that being all of his 'punani money.' Officer Mark stopped as he was about to leave and said, "You ladies have yourself a nice evening, I will be back around midnight to see if you have any donations for the police ball. I would say two hundred should cover it." He smiled evilly as he swaggered back to his patrol car, leaving us alone to talk. "Oh my god, that is my son?" Chris mocked my voice to criticize how I had answered the officer. "You were the one who said that, sir," I reminded him. "Oh yeah, dammit. I was a totally nervous fuck." Chris hit himself on the forehead with the broom in frustration with his actions. "Ouch, that fucking hurts," he declared and I thought to myself 'uh yeah, I know!' I was hoping Jerry would come into the cabana so we could apologize and maybe hash things out like rational people as I gazed out the window. The officer had left him and his brother standing outside. Jerry was pointing to our cabana in fear but Peter tapped his watch and yelled at him angrily. They both abruptly got into Peter's green chevette and left without saying a word to us. "Well, now what?" Chris sat on the bed with his hands propping up his head in worry. "I would imagine you would finish punishing Mom, and then start on me, Sir?" Jamie's mellifluous tone sounded like she was asking to finish some cinnamon buns and tea in an angel's voice instead of volunteering to be beaten with a broom. "After that, we can get outside and start working?" she reminded him. "You can say that again," Bill's familiar voice came from outside the screen door. I hadn't seen him pull up in his truck and I almost didn't believe it was him. "You giving your brother a hard time, slut?" Bill smiled as he walked in holding an industrial size pack of 70 condoms in one hand. "Where have you been?" I was the first to speak. I was too excited and worried to temper my voice. I sounded like I was being clingy. I hastily added, "Master?" but it was too late. I couldn't reel back in how I had phrased the question. "Is that any of your business, slut?" Bill sounded confident and back in control so I nodded that it wasn't, as long as he had it handled. "Have you been beating them with a broom?" Bill looked at Chris in disbelief. When Chris nodded that he had, Bill said, "My mom used to beat me with a broom like that. I guess if it knocked some sense into me then it could work on these two cunts. You just have to keep at it, son." He was being facetious on some level but also serious. When he saw that we were all still standing there wondering where he had been, he finally admitted it, "I had to take my old, faded, acid-washed jeans, records from the 1980s I never listened to, old comic books and magazines and all that crap that was in Rahjid's storage room back home and list the whole mess on craigslist. I also put all of our furniture up because if we don't sell it now then the bank is going to take it on Friday." We nodded understanding and Bill walked over to the screen door. "Then I stopped by Home Depot and found some day laborers with money in their pockets so I made them a group deal." "Sort of like a Groupon, Dad?" Chris laughed. "Yeah, whatever the fuck that is, exactly like it, son," Bill grimaced and pushed open the door. The first of several, mostly Mexican, sweaty, grimy day laborers who still had the dust from bushes they had finished clear cutting and chips of cement on their clothes shuffled into the room. Their faces were tired but their eyes were full of lust when they saw my daughter and me standing there naked. I felt like a rabbit being held up to a pack of hungry wolves. "Seventeen of them paid five hundred dollars combined for an hour with your sister and mom. You sluts have no problem entertaining them in any way they please, I assume," Bill looked at our stunned expression. I had been missing Bill and doubting him. Now I was standing face to face with three of the 17 strangers who were deciding which one of us they wanted to fuck and it had been my husband who had brought them here with the express purpose of whoring me out to them and their friends... This is the part of my journal than I am going to do my best to describe but I doubt I can accurately describe, moment by moment, the gangbang that went down. My son said it best when he said, "They took more loads than a washing machine." I wasn't sure how much English they spoke but the one that seemed like their leader didn't really need a lot. I pointed to myself and then to Jamie and he pointed at us both. I smiled invitingly and, as my husband left the room, I said, "Thank you, Master," un-sarcastically as I could. I had agreed to be a whore. I just hadn't expected to do so much of it all at one time. "As one leaves, I will send in another," Bill said as he perched himself as gatekeeper on the front step. I opened the box of condoms and handed them to the men while my daughter removed their belts and helped them off with their pants. At first, it was awkward deciding where we should start but we got down on our knees and began to suck two of them off while I used my hand on the third one. The one I was wanking off became frustrated that he wasn't getting the same attention as the others. Like most men, he needed a little territory between cocks in order to feel like he wasn't a homosexual or something and he didn't want to edge into the other two men. I let go of his now hard cock, reached behind myself and pointed to my butt while I stood up some into an extended squat so he could come behind me. He wasted no time mounting my pussy from behind. "Dad, you can send in another guy," Jamie slurped the cock that was in her mouth. I could see she was playing with her own pussy to get herself ready "I mean, Master!!!" She corrected herself. "That's okay Slut, you will pay for that after," Bill joked. I could hear him and Chris crack open a soft drink on the porch steps and laugh but I couldn't make out what they were discussing. I was too busy since the guy I was sucking didn't like the pace I was doing it and became more forceful with my head. He grabbed my head and started pulling me down on his cock all the way until I made a garbbgglll noise. The guy breathing down my neck, pumping my pussy full of cock, smelled like onions and kerosene and his breath was hot and gross. His hands were clammy and dirty and sweat dripped from his belly onto my back but I kept bucking my ass into his crotch and riding him. I barely looked over at my daughter but she was taking her two like a champion. I kind of felt sorry for her, the little blue-eyed, blonde-hair, innocent piece of fluff jammed between two rough looking Mexican day-workers. They were cupping her tits and pulling her hair as they fucked her from both ends. I choked myself back off the dick stuffed in my mouth and managed to get out, "Switch please, sir." I wasn't making him cum and he was trying to bury my tonsils in my throat with his cock. The guy behind me pulled out and stuffed his cock in my mouth. I instantly knew the taste of my own pussy juice over Jamie's that coated the condom like enchilada sauce. I hate to think of myself as racist but all I could do was picture these guys in ponchos and sombreros bringing me salsa at a Tex-Mex restaurant. That made me feel guilty, like a privileged suburbanite who looks down her nose at men like this and now they were fucking my daughter and me while grabbing, pulling and twisting our hair, tits and clits. The one in front blew his load in the condom and slowly began to rock back and forth in my mouth. I kept moving my neck back and forth, coating his dick with my spit while he finished. He was about to take off his condom when I said "No, Gracias!" and used my teeth to remove it. I spit it on the ground near me to give to for Devis Das later. He stood there waiting with his dick dangling in my face. I kissed his dick and looked up at him with a smile as if to say, "Goodbye, send in the next guy," while I was getting pounded from behind. He stood there and rubbed his dick a little more looking down at me. So I did the next thing that came natural to me. I opened my mouth wide and he stuck his dick in my mouth without a condom. I have to admit the taste wasn't quite as bad as latex. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see two other day-laborers walking in and I started to wonder how we were going to get through them all. "Gracias," I took my mouth off the dick I was sucking and told him one of the only Spanish words I knew. I started to unbuckle one of the new guy's pants but they were both more interested in my daughter than me. I suppose that is to be expected since she is young and perky. "Me pones muy caliente." I could hear one of them say to the other as they watched my daughter bounce and twist for the dicks she already had in her. I bucked hard against the man taking me from behind. Would he ever cum? I had been in denial about looking over at my daughter. We've done a lot of kinky things together but this was a full on gangbang and I was not sure I could watch her become meat in a Mexican sandwich. She had changed positions, putting her hands on the floor and kneeling so that she could suck one cock while another man could fuck her in the ass and a third could fuck her pussy! I would have said something if my own mouth wasn't filled with cock at that moment. I am not sure if it would have been encouragement or to express my disbelief. It was probably for the best that my mouth was stuffed full again. I would most likely have said something that would have gotten me in trouble. I just sighed and started swirling my tongue around the guy's cock to try and get him to come as soon as possible. The guy behind me was still pumping away and I began to wonder if he even had cum in his balls. I decided to get in the same position my daughter was in, kneeling with my palms flat on the carpet. I guided the man behind me out of my pussy, put his tip on my asshole and gave him the nod that it was just fine. He drove it in me hard and without even the least bit of compassion. If it hadn't been for the ass plug loosening me up, I'm sure it would have hurt more than it did. As it was, it still hurt like hell. It was a good thing I've had some extended asshole training because I might have bit down on the cock I was sucking at the time! I took my lips off the dick just long enough to gasp, "Send in one more please, Master?" and wrap them back around it again. "You sure are horny," Bill laughed and another Mexican came in. He wanted to wait for my daughter but I pointed to my pussy so he kneeled down at my ankle and actually started licking me. I wondered how sweaty and cummy I tasted but I figured if that turns him on, so much the better. He was actually a fairly skilled pussy licker. We rotated in about four more, each of us depositing cum-filled condoms off to our side. Bill brought the cell phone in once and made me smile for the camera – dirty bird. He said the sweat on my forehead and my makeup running made me sexy. I wished I could believe it. I am sure with all the slicked dicks I was sucking and fucking and my hair tousled and matted I looked like quite a hot mess. One guy shot in my ass; his condom had broken. I didn't want the other two to stop and break their concentration since I was in a rhythm now, taking three dicks, and sometimes four or five with my hands. His dick was red as if it had been squeezed, gripped by my asshole when he popped it out. I looked over my shoulder at the tiny layer of brownish honey-glaze that coated it and opened my mouth instinctively. He might not have spoken English but he knew I was offering to clean him off. It felt like we had been fucking constantly for hours but I think it had only been thirty, maybe forty-five, minutes when Bill came in and said, "Half-way done," as if that was supposed to pick up my spirits. I thought we were almost done with them. "Have you invited more, Master?" I choked out in disbelief that we had only finished off about eight guys. "Oh you love it," Bill squatted down near my face while I slurped a dick as if it wasn't even there. "You thirsty?" he asked me. I can't recall Bill being too concerned about my hydration level even when we were outside all day sunbathing in the backyard. "I would be grateful for a little water, Master," I wasn't going to decline it. I was drenched in my own sweat and that of the men who had been climbing on top of me. My muscles ached and I felt bruises from the broom and their handling of me. I had once tried to move us over to the beds but it was more efficient to fuck right where we were standing. "Water? Chris tells me you drank his piss earlier today," Bill sounded jealous. I didn't have time for this. I was getting my ass, cunt, and mouth packed full of brown cock. I could not answer his questions submissively and think about my response. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," I groaned as I removed my lips from the tip of an uncircumcised cock to reply to my husband. It was all I could think to say as I bounced in all directions. I felt like my tits were going one way and my ass cheeks another. "You'll both offer urinal service to these gentlemen when they are done," Bill announced as he walked out the door and my spine quivered with the implication. I've become much better at pussy-control from all the exercising and winking Chris has had me doing. I think that right when Bill was talking I pussy-gripped the man inside me and he howled with joy as he pumped a quarter condom full of white-mexican hot sauce into me. His friends laughed too, cheering him on. "Master, please send in another," I rotated the man whose dick I had been neglecting while talking to my pussy. "Already on his way. I heard him," Bill chuckled as the next man walked in to use my mouth. I periodically kept tabs on Jamie. She was now consistently taking five men and they were feeling her tits, grabbing her ass, fingering her and fucking every single hole while she jerked them off. I wondered if this is how porn stars get their start. She had the familiar look on her face when she performed at dance recitals or as a cheer leader, very wholesome and girl next door, positive and vibrant as if pleasing the audience was the only thing that mattered. She could have been "America's Sweetheart" back in the 1950s when wholesome shows about middle-America were all the rage. It was so strange to see someone so pure being so filthy and getting the shit fucked out of her with a smile on her face. She looked at me and smiled and it broke my heart. Were we going too far? Had I taken Bill's offer to end this, she would not be doing this. Two men were trying to stick their dicks in my face. One of them had no condom on and I wanted to wag a 'no-no' finger at him and offer him a condom. However, the guy behind me taking my ass was fucking my butt so hard and slamming his hips into me that it was driving the guy trying to fuck my pussy right back out again and I couldn't raise my hand. He jizzed all in my eyes and hair and laughed while saying "Chiquito me gustan tus chupadas". Most of them didn't say anything; they just quietly fucked a hole and left. I couldn't tell if he was angry or pleased but after he finished saying it, he just walked away like I was garbage. The other guy, who had his condom on, then took this as license to do the same and peeled his off. I opened my mouth to say something but he stuffed his six-inch burrito right into my throat. Garrabaggall was all I could mutter in response. In a moment he pulled back out again and sprayed his cum down my tits. "Sir, can you tell them to wear a condom please?" I croaked. The man who had cum all over my chest turned to leave without so much as an acknowledgement, as if he had just made a deposit at the ATM and this was nothing to him. "Why? Are you afraid you'll catch something or get pregnant?" Bill called back from the porch letting two more men in. "It's for Rahjid's neice, Master." I knew Bill didn't understand that request so I let it drop. Chris walked in the doorway and looked us both over with a chuckle. "Wow, you two cum-pigs are really having fun in here, huh?" I was too exhausted and sweaty to do more than acknowledge him with a quick nod as the four men surrounding me were bouncing me back and forth between them like a ragdoll. "That pussy is really busted, Sis." Chris stood behind his sister and looked at her pink, sore pussy after two men finished using her from behind. He jabbed a finger into her ass and withdrew it then put it under her nose while she finished sucking a dick. "Smells like parmesan cheese to me," he observed. Then he dragged his finger across her lip announcing, "Dirty Sanchez!" with a laugh. His sister continued obediently sucking cock and waiting for two more men to get behind her and plug both her ass and pussy with their dicks. "You want a dirty Sanchez too, don't you, Mom?" Chris was full of himself. His father had come back and he was back in charge of us. I was too completely fucked-out to really care what he did to me or to make coherent sense but I nodded in agreement. The total fucking we were getting had served to do what affirmations had done in the past, reinforce our place as fuck dolls and keep us in line. The more we were fucked, the more I felt like beating their clothes against a rock, doing their laundry and living in their village with them as a good little Mexican wife. There was something about being taken this way that released whatever chemical that exists in a woman's brain that tells her she has been fucked good. Let the men be men, go gather berries and sire children. I didn't feel him slip the finger into my ass but I noticed him rubbing his finger under my nose to paint a little mustache right under my nose with my ass-juices. I wanted to say "You know I changed your diaper, made you PB&J sandwiches with the crust cut off, and took you to your little league games, and this is how you repay me?" with a snarky comment but all I managed was to make a whoof-sound as I choked on the next dick going down my throat. Chris made us change positions so that I was sitting with one guy's dick impaling my ass while I sucked another one. I wanted to say that we were able to get three the other way but I was rapidly losing steam. My pussy was sluiced with my own cum and drool was running down my lip onto my chin (at least I think it was drool) from using my mouth so much. He snapped a few more pictures with his cell phone. We used to have an agreement. No pictures except the ones we had taken early on in this for 'safety' so we wouldn't back out. If we did then he could send them to whoever, including my parents. However, Bill and Chris had been collecting photos of us ever since, more so in the last week. I think I am okay with that. I want to look back on this time and think about how I faced some fears here and did this. It feels surreal, like a dream to be fucking seventeen men. I can imagine the picture albums, one of my wedding to Bill, one of the early years, and one of the sex slave years. If I wake up from the dream, would I remember all of these details? I smiled for the camera and him, wiggling my ass like a puppy on top of the man whose lap I was driving my asshole down on. Jamie and I looked over at each other. She was holding herself up with her arms while she dropped herself, pussy first, onto this man's cock and slammed down into him hard. I decided to fuck myself up and down in fast but short motions instead. Jamie mirrored my movement and before we knew it, we were both sucking dick and fucking ourselves in perfect rhythm. I sped up a little and she matched my pace. Then she sped up a little and I matched hers again. Just like that we were having some sort of endurance race. I think I kept fucking the guy I was sitting on even after he came because he laid back as if he was completely done. However, I wanted to keep up the little game without rules Jamie and I were playing with each other. "Master, you can send in one more?" I said as I lifted myself up and peeled off his condom. I offered the man whose dick I was sucking to take his place but he wanted to use my mouth and I obliged. "Sorry, you fucked them all, whore." Bill quipped back. Had the last half gone much faster than the first? It seemed once I got my second wind they were all done. "You know what that means, right?" Bill was standing in the door looking down at me. I was a total wreck with cum in my face and sweat and bruises all over me. "Um, that you love me, Master?" I was teasing a little. I probably looked like Wile. E. Coyote after one of his acme rockets blew up in his face, totally exhausted. "It's time to water the pigs. You earned it!" His voice was passive-aggressive like he was jealous but trying to placate his insatiable wife. "I am sorry Master. Are you mad about something?" I was trying to wipe myself off but even my hands had Mexican sweat and cum on them. "No, I like you just how you are, groveling and rolling around in cum," Bill's voice often had an edge of sarcasm and sadism to it but I couldn't help but wonder if there was more subtext to this one. "You two get in the bathroom and kneel with your butts on your heels and your backs to the wall. Hold your mouths open and wait," he demanded. Jamie, the little trooper that she was, was the first to race for the bathroom and I hobbled behind her. You know that phrase, "I busted that pussy?" I think I understand where it comes from now. "I feel like I've been thoroughly fucked. What about you?" I whispered to Jamie as I took my position against the dirty tile. "Shhhh, you'll get us in trouble, hooker." She playfully slapped my thigh and kept her mouth open with her back straight. Bill had a marker in his hand as he entered. I knew we were about to get a lesson in what we are written on us. "Hold those knockers as far apart as you can," he demanded and I obeyed while holding my mouth open. I could feel the cum starting to drip out of my ass as I knelt over the floor. He wrote 'Urinal' and drew an arrow to point up to my face. "Are you punishing us, Master?" I begged. I wanted him to give me some sign that this was all part of his dominance techniques and not the manifestation of a bruised ego. "No, I think you know the purpose of a slut's mouth by now, don't you, Cow-Tits?" his smile was stern and unyielding. "To suck and swallow, Master." I dutifully answered my husband. Chris came in behind him, "Can I do Jamie's chest?" "Why would you ask me? We are partners aren't we? Knock yourself out, Son." Bill patted his son on the back. 'Servicio de 24 horas' was written across her chest. "See, I paid attention in Spanish class," he chuckled. Then he wrote 'aseo público'. Chris had some toy handcuffs to lock our hands behind our back. Bill left to go let in the Mexicans while his son wrote 'un maloliente pedos mamacita' on his sister's tummy and slapped her rock-hard abdomen with his hand. I wasn't sure what that meant and wasn't sure I wanted to know. Chris wrote 'La leche' under one of my tits and drew an arrow straight to the nipple. I knew that was milk and I just offered him a dumb smile of acceptance while holding my mouth open. What else could I do? He left me with 'una huila madre.' I knew the last part meant mother and I had a few guesses about the first part. "How does it feel to be urinals?" Bill grinned evilly. I wasn't sure what to say. Here I had mentally begged for him to return and, even though he had been cruel and thoughtless to me in the last few weeks, it had all been part of the discipline I agreed too. Now it just felt like he was getting even with me all anew and for me trying to be accommodating and a good slut for him. "If this will get us closer to the Internet Users forum group for you, it feels like the right thing to do, Master." I felt my words were not only passive-aggressive but on a level that only other women might have picked up. I had said exactly what I should say and agreed with him but the tone of how I said it was meant to leave a niggling doubt in his mind that this may not be the best use of our time. If he got that or not, I never knew because the next thing I felt was the warm piss of a Mexican laughing down at me as he sprayed my face and chest. "Open those mouths, urinals!" Bill said as he walked back into the bedroom area "Wider!" he demanded and we obeyed like good little sluts with our mouths wide open. ------- Chapter 31: Jamie's Journal: I Shit You Knot ****Note to reader: This is an excerpt of Jamie's journal from Wednesday approximately 6:30pm from her perspective. In order to increase readability, some of the dialogue exchanged was altered to appear in a 'narrative' story format. CASH EARNINGS WEDNESDAY WENDY: $385 JAMIE: $345 I was standing in a dirty motel room with my mother – I had my 'license' in my mouth and naturally, I was naked. "Those are really nice turd-cutters," Peter commented on our assholes. I got a sinking feeling in my stomach that a part of me was pleased by the validation of being judged. A lifetime of trying to gain acceptance in dance and ballet recitals, cheer squads, goes down hard. The other part was shocked I was letting someone stare at my asshole in the first place. "You know my sister can swallow two strings, and in an hour they will come out the other end tied in a knot." Chris said seriously – I don't remember him ever trying this with me. "Really?" Peter was astounded. "I shit you knot!" I knew Chris had been joking all along. I have to admit sometimes I cannot help but laugh at his jokes – even when I turn out to be both the metaphorical and literal butt of those jokes. "We used to keep them without anything crammed up their asses all the time, but Dad felt they needed to keep them occupied" Chris walked behind me to have a good look. "You know, you are right. I think the diamond plug peeking out of their ass cheeks is a good sign of their obedience, but I really like seeing their balloon knots – I like that term. Ladies, take each other's ass plugs out of your mouths and thank Peter for making this suggestion." "Thank you Peter" mom and I were in unison as we answered sweetly. There was a coy almost patronizing tone to our voice that underscored the creepiness of how sugar coated our response was – like dual teacher's pets thanking the teacher for another gold star on our extra credit. "I didn't say keep them out of your mouth forever," Chris chuckled and ordered us to put them back the other way around so we could clean them. "That's it, really suck and wash those plugs," my brother giggled at our humiliation. I really couldn't taste anything too disgusting on my own buttplug – but I had not eaten all day either and I was probably not too particularly discriminating, even something to suck on was welcome. "Who has a tighter pussy?" Peter asked and I could feel my asshole pucker at the question. There was something intensely humiliating about standing there and being judged and how casually he asked the question. I felt like we were horses and he was asking who was the better ride. "Well, actually I've never fucked my mom, but I've had my fingers in there, and Jamie and I were both born out of it so I guess my sister's is tighter," My brother was answering just as casually but there was a coyness to his voice that he was having fun comparing us this way. All I could think about was weeks ago when mother and I held all the cards about the casual way she asked me about Chris and Dad's cock size and how their balls hung - Fair was fair. I can also say that I am still as vain as always because I was hoping to hear him say I was tight. I've fucked a lot of guys in the last few days – but still! It would be nice to hear him say it. "Damn, you can do all this to her and you never fucked her?" Peter was surprised –I suppose given how things work in our family that is a fair question. "Well, I've fucked her in the ass, and she's sucked my dick, and licked my cum off Jamie's cunt, does that count?" Chris was still being playfully coy. He was attaching clothespins we bought at the J-mart to my nipples and clit and pulling as he did. I did my best to keep my eyes open and not wince or flinch. "How did that sweet-sweet cum taste when you licked off your daughter's sweet-sweet pussy?" Peter asked my mom with sheer joy dripping off every syllable. "Swfeet, sir?" my mom mumbled around the butt plug. I have to admit –her confused and surprised response even amused me a little. "I bet it did, I bet it did!" Peter rolled off our dirty bed and straightened his clothes. "I'm going to punish you last, "My brother promised my mother – I wasn't sure why she was getting special treatment or what I had done that wasn't pleasing. "You two get down on all fours and get your enemas, then I will let you milk each other while you hold them in." I dutifully obeyed my brother - wondering if this was part of the punishment or if his casual command was the eye before the storm. "Notice how Ass fart's nipples are pink, soft and about the size of a quarter while your Mom's are dark and much bigger, what is that all about?" Peter's tone was skeptical as if maybe there was something wrong us. I have to admit even though I accept being called a skank, a slut, a whore, and a cunt that something about him perverting 'Ass face' crept under my skin. "Well, obviously mom's tits are fake," Chris held up one of my mom's bulbous orbs like a trophy and let it jiggle back in place. He didn't do the same to mine – as if they were somehow inferior. "Yeah, natural is much nicer," Peter had a way of sending me on a confidence rollercoaster ride – up and down again. I wondered though if he was just being kind? I wondered if I was reading too much subtext into my brother's holding up my mother's tit – he did call them 'fake' afterall? Men can be so hard to understand. We keep stretching and fattening up the nipples though. The piercings really make them stand up, you know what I mean?" Chris flicked my nipples with his finger and tugged the clip forward to prove his point – making me feel like a sixth grade science exhibit. I wondered if these fat, sensitive handles on my chest were ever going to deflate after this is over. And when would it be over? Hadn't I just volunteered to be a whore for as long as it took? I can be so conflicted – a part of me feels that there is no other choice but to finish what we started but a part of me is wondering if we hadn't already finished it – and maybe it would be nice not to have my nipples freshly squeezed and abused. "Yeah, their nipples make me stand up too," Peter joked like a horny hobbit from a Steve Jackson film. "I think I like your mom's pussy more overall though," His judgment stung a little but I didn't make a face – I just remained on all fours spread wide"The daughter has sort of just a thin line and then her clit hood is sticking out. Your mom on the other hand has sort of a meaty pocket of folds, it looks extra juicy." "Ass face's cunt would be a hairless slit if we didn't have the piercing in her clit. They pulled it out of her pussy so that it is always being stimulated and exposed," Chris was talking about the clit ring that dangled out of my pussy – it felt like a tiny dick always flipping and rubbing against clothes. The cool air in the room and their discussion of my body was making me strangely aroused – I was turning pink with embarrassment. "Damn, maybe I changed my mind on which honey-hole I like more. So you are always wet, little girl?" Peter must have noticed the wetness dripping down my cunt. Then again I am sure his eye had been there the whole time – there was no point in denying it. "Yes sir, I am almost always at least slightly aroused, and turned on,"I wasn't ALWAYS this wet but it seemed almost anything could trigger it since I got the piercings. I looked over at my mom to give her a supportive smile of solidarity but I could see her wince. I wondered if she was always a little wet too? I couldn't help but think about the "Roscoe story" I was supposed to tell her. I had managed to dodge the bullet several times. Even though I had done it and it was now known by Dad and Chris, Cathy, David and the Waxermans – I had a second gasp of humiliation thinking about having to recount this to my mom. Even she had probably not done anything that disgusting and perverted. Would we have to do it more? How would that help us make money for the house? Maybe they would expect us to do it just to keep us submissive and continually reinforcing us as dirty little whores. It sure was working being treated like little playthings to be poked and inspected this way. "Stop flirting, and get on the ground –so I can clean the shit out of your fat asses," Chris playfully kicked my back – I had been arching myself up like a cat who was about to spring. I hadn't even realized I wasn't splayed out on all fours like I was supposed to be. My brother crammed the fleet enema up my asshole as hard as he could. He showed no mercy as he drove the plastic nozzle from the two dollar plastic bottle right in. I had learned to take it well enough that it was only uncomfortable. Then he gave it a squeeze to get the saline solution flowing in my backdoor. "How often do you guys do enemas?" Peter had lain back down on the bed to observe us getting washed out from above. "We like to clean them out of all the shit they've got packed away at least once a day, the rig we have at home is really nice. It is a double bag model and we had a goat milker we could turn on when they were getting the enema!" Chris answered like we were prize ferrets and he was describing our cages. "Oh wow, they get so much water packed up their backside, I bet you can hear the ocean when you put your ear to your mom's butthole." Peter quipped. I wanted to turn my head and laugh at his joke – but I knew he wasn't cracking jokes for my benefit. I could see a broad grin spread across my mom's face and a twinkle in her eye. It was amazing how these kinds of jokes had sort of grown on both of us. When Chris started telling jokes a few weeks ago – I admit we both didn't laugh but it kind of helped to deal with the utter absurdity of the situation. Mom didn't laugh – if we had we might have dropped the enema and been in for a punishment. Instead, she wiggled her butt playfully while it drained into her ass. I did likewise - That seemed to please the guys. "We have a neighbor who gave us this recipe for Waxerman's Magical Wonder Tonic – you use pepper, lemon juice, hot sauce, milk and a little castor oil - It definitely binds them up and cleans them out." I got a knot in my stomach just thinking about that horrible pain – then again I was getting a knot because my body was already reacting to the saline and telling me to expel it back out the hole it came in from. "You two spill a drop of it and you will lick it up! You have five minutes to milk each other, Mom you go first and then Jamie is second. I will tell you when you have reached the half-way point." I guess Chris could read my mind about worry that I was going to spill my juice. I could also read the look on my mom's face that she noticed he called me Jamie instead of something nasty. I hadn't heard my old name in so long it didn't even sound right anymore. I wondered if calling me Jamie was just an accident or if his mind was on Dad not being there – like it was in the back of mine. Mom got to her knees and put her fingers under my chest like she was milking a cow. Then she gave me a strong squeeze and crushed my nipples under her thumb. I hate to admit I could feel myself getting turned on and a subtle orgasm washed over me. Chris and Peter didn't notice but I felt myself getting musky and warm all over as my mom pulled my tits hard until I started to drip creamy milk into the bowl she put under me. I closed my eyes and squinted hard – it was a challenge to get turned on and keep the enema in my butt at the same time. I didn't want the guys to think I was being absent minded or getting off on this treatment because that would mean more punishment – but I could tell mom was on to me. She always knew – she could read me like a book. We haven't had time to talk and compare notes in days and there are some things we share so openly – we have this shared connection that we've developed by sharing this humiliation and discipline. Then there are other things – things I am conflicted about that just don't seem to make sense for me to share with her or anyone – even you journal. "Okay time!"my brother ordered us to switch positions and me to milk my mom. I was still high on the quiet orgasms that she was setting off like chain reactions inside of me –and all over my body. I yanked her tits a lot harder than I had intended but she didn't seem to mind. It wasn't long before I had her squirting milk in the same dish I had placed under her boobs. "Can I drink that at the end?" Peter sounded so creepy – as I pictured him chugging the white fluid that we had just milked out of each other I wondered why he would. Then again – men are hard to understand. "Gross, normally I make them lap it up like kitties," Chris explained. "Boi-oh-oing, oing!!!" Peter made a spring noise with his mouth – to emphasize how hot he thought that was. Mom spit out her buttplug onto the carpet and bolted for the bathroom. I wasn't sure if she was going to throw up or expel the enema but I had a feeling it might be both. On instinct I got up and ran with my mom. I think I could have held mine in – but I made a snap decision and ran into the bathroom with her. I guess we really are 'partners in crime'. I squatted one leg over the toilet bowl splitting it 50/50 with my mother as I squirted the brown backwash from the enema into the toilet. "I am sorry Master, I am so Sorry," Mom pleaded as we both pushed out the gross solution into the dirty toilet. Chris was already standing over us "You weren't told to release and you certainly aren't allowed to use a toilet bowl like one of us! You little fucking drippy-cunted bitches!" There was fire in his eyes, "You aren't taking me seriously are you?" He grabbed my mom by her hair and twisted the clothes pin attached to my nipple ring hard as he yanked us up off the toilet. We were thankfully just finished releasing all the water back into the basin. I had managed to keep my mom's 'passport' in my mouth –by now I was able to tell it apart from my own by the subtle differences in how it felt on my tongue. "You dropped Pussy Fart's plug, you need to put it back in your mouth!"Chris demanded of mom. She replied by crawling on her hands and knees and using only her mouth retrieving my plug and sucking it in with just her teeth and tongue. "Position one!" Chris commanded of us outside of the bathroom. I was still very wet – not just from my orgasms but the wetness of a sloppy enema release out of my ass. I had no choice but to assume the standard position as commanded. Tits out – knees bent slightly and hands pulling my ass cheeks apart. I felt like I was caught in a perpetual perverted game of 'Simon Sez' following his orders. "Gross bro, aren't you going to let them wipe after all that ass-blasting they just did in the toilet?" "Why waste toilet paper on skanky cunts – when they can use their tongues for something other than bitching that Dad isn't here? Chris said while Peter and him stood in front of us. "Yeah, save a tree – feed a ho'" Peter agreed with an evil glint in his eye. I felt like Mom wanted to say something but she thought better of trying to around the butt plug in her mouth. As mean as Chris and Peter were being to us, I took solace in the fact that if my mom was willing to submit to this – then so would I. "Take those plugs out of your big mouths, what are your big mouths good for?" "Sucking and swallowing, Master?" I answered with just a hint of a question in my tone. "You don't sound like you are sure? Are you sure it doesn't include licking?" Chris had his hands on his hips –sternly staring at me. "Yes Master,, " I gushed enthusiastically – I can't help but think I always sound like a cheerleader even when I am trying to be serious. "Licking stamps?" Peter interrupted with a snarky joke. "Anything or anyone my master wants me to lick, Sir" I said –trying to sound less like an overly-optimistic cheerleader and more like a serious and obedient slut. "Good answer, Ass face" Peter gave me complement – but I noticed the subtext that he had at least chosen to get my name right and that was strangely gratifying. Is it completely surreal that 'Ass face' sounds more familiar than 'Jamie' now? "Get down so your shoulders and tits touch the ground, ass up, Ho!" Chris slapped my tits with his hand and I did as I was told. "Clean off your dirty daughter, slut!" Chris demanded and I could feel my mother fall in behind me and spread me with her hands before laying into me with her tongue to clean me off. "Tongue punch that fart box!" Peter egged her on and my mom seemed to respond enthusiastically – even though she was licking my cunt first, while Chris giggled at his friend's crude order. I still grapple with how the strange sensations I feel – especially when my mom's tongue expertly darts and flicks my clit and deep into my pussy – and then all around my asshole. I know it's Jerry Springer level incest and totally taboo – but she is really good and it was getting me off big time. I wonder if my mom feels that too? She seems to thrive on this control and discipline. She has always been the leader of the household from as long as I can remember – and I knew she had been a high level executive at her Company. Was it somehow surrendering this authority she had felt good as long as she knew there was some purpose to it? That the reinforcement she was getting from the discipline – even in the tiny things like being supervised and monitored as we cleaned each other fed into her desire to continue it? I question really – why are we - why does she need this discipline in order to continue to operate as a whore? Should I think too hard about it? Should you dear journal? Dad had let her out of this discipline, and she could have continued to be a whore on the street without discipline if she really wanted too. However, some how she needs this treatment to keep her justifications for doing it? Maybe she secretly gets off on it? Maybe I secretly get off on it? That is a really wicked and perverted thought for me to put out there – but there it is and there it will lie without further comment. A question I don't know that I want the answer too – if I give it too much thought I might just reach a conclusion. I was grinding my twat into my mother's face when I finally stopped day-dreaming and I felt a hard slap to my ass with the broom handle as Chris jolted me back to reality an pulled my mother's head away by her hair. Maybe it wasn't so secret I was getting off on parts of this – they all new I orgasm like some kind of chicken on caffeine and can't control my spasms and mewling – but that was in response to physical stimulus. I think the jury is still out on the mental and spiritual side of this. "I am sorry Sir!" I proactively apologized for my reckless gyrations like I was talking to Mrs. Waxerman. "Why be sorry? I was loving watching your leg nervously twitch as you got your pussy ate out," Peter was the first to question me. "Only a wicked slut gets turned on by this treatment, Sir" I said with practiced precision – an answer I had to give from early affirmations when they caught us getting aroused. "Then you my dear, are one wicked slut and so is your mother," Peter laughed callously while my mom remained dutifully in front of my pussy with her tongue out and mouth open. My brother was not as amused. "What are you doing ass fuck? You are supposed to let mom clean you, not get off on it." He hit me a second time -hard across my ass cheeks with a broom but this time hard and fast – the broom whistled in the air. It was not just hard – there was a malice behind it. "We AGREED to do this, you motherfucker! Yeah that's right, I called you a sadistic motherfucker because that is what you are. You don't have to be so fucking mean and hurtful to us, you are supposed to keep us in line, not beat the snot out of us!!" is what I would have said –if I felt like speaking the first thing on my mind. Instead, I just stared at my brother – feeling the smarts from the way he laid into me like he was trying to hit a homerun with the broom handle and my ass was the ball. Mom stopped eating me out and stared up at me – deep into my eyes. I wondered if she was imploring me to accept what was given or to go off on my brother. The immediate shock of the snap from the broom had faded but it still smarted – and my rage over being hit that way had passed with it. I realized I am the one who is the slave here and we did agree to rough treatment. I took my hands off my mother's head and reached slowly behind my back to pull my ass cheeks apart as wide as I could. It always feels like I am holding melons when I do that – why can't I have boobs as big as my butt? I know everyone says I am skinny and good looking, but for some reason I can't seem to believe no matter how many times I am told I am not carrying around about ten extra pounds of ass than I should. I guess that is silly teenage girl vanity. "I am sorry Master. I know that was wrong of me, Cow tits, would you please clean my ass now? I was getting too much pleasure from your tongue on my cunt. Thank you, Sir, for reminding me of my place." I tried to sound like the obedient and positive cheerleader everyone thinks of me as – but my voice cracked just a tiny bit – at the sudden realization that my place as his sister was to accept this treatment everyday all the time. This sneaking thought that maybe now that we have crossed this door – this is how it was going to be between us and he could always treat me like this – we'd never be equals again. Then again – I was never really equals with Chris. I think I did get more attention and accolades and so maybe this just was the fairest karma can be to even things out between us. "Good," Chris seemed to approve of my response "but you don't ask your mom to do anything anymore," he ordered mom to clean out my asshole and put the broom down. I wondered if he was as conflicted or felt a little guilty that maybe he had gone too far with that last broom strike – maybe it had been an accident? I would give anything to be inside his head and be able to understand him better. I wonder if it was bothering him to treat us this way on the inside and his humor at our predicament was a defensive mechanism? It had to be – at least some of the time. "I kind of want to fill up the bottle with piss and give them a piss enema," Peter said as if that awkward exchange hadn't just happened – maybe he was just trying to change the vibe in the room. "You can do that next time, at the end I give them an inspection and if their booties are clean and empty we'll get them back outside so they can start filling them with dicks." My brother was pushing my mom's face into my crack to urge her cleaning tongue- she really didn't need it because she was doing just fine on her own. I hate to admit my mom is really awesome at rim jobs. I know how creepy that sounds but it is true. It was my turn to eat my mother out and I took my place kneeling in front of her bare pussy. I could see the long needle that had been put in her clit and I was surprised it didn't seem to bother her. I wanted to mention that maybe Chris should take it out but I knew better. I just licked around it – maybe I could give her some relief. "Nigger dicks, Mexican dicks, Haitian dicks, old men dicks, big dicks, needle dicks, which dicks do you like least, little girl?" Peter reminded me of a gnome from a fairy tale talking in rhyme and riddle. I know that sounds awful like I am making fun of his shortness but when he lets down the tough-guy act he comes across like a smart-alecky sprite who would be a sidekick on a tinkerbell cartoon. "Dog dicks, I think" Chris hinted about Roscoe. I didn't see Peter or my mom's reaction to that – but I may have accidentally bit down on her clit ring when it caught me off-guard. I felt a wash of shame waft over me that mom was going to hear I was a dog fucker now. I know that sounds crazy considering all the nasty and outrageously disgusting things we've done but somehow this seemed even worse – like it crossed an imaginary gray line. "Actually, all dick is welcome in any of my holes, Sir" I delivered in one of those trademark goofy Jamie "Sweeter-than-thou" voices I do sometimes when I am nervous. I know other people think it sounds sweet as a peach but I always feel so self-conscious. I think I sound like Taylor Swift trying to give an awkward acceptance speech for yet another award. "Boy-oh-oing-Boying!" Peter seemed to like what I said or how I said it... "My boner just got a boner!" the guys both laughed. "Yo dawg, I heard you liked hard dicks, so I put a hard dick on your hard dick, so you can fuck your bitch, while you fuck your bitch!" Chris did a variation of his 'pimp my ride' joke and I actually smiled a little while I licked my mother's increasingly wet slit before being ordered to finish on her ass. "I like the tattoo work, reminds me of a guy's tattoo parlor not too far from here," Peter said while we lubed up on the carpet afterwards – in order to shave each other. "Thank you sir, we got it at the county fair." I said in the same dumb Taylor Swift voice but I didn't get the same over the top reaction from Peter. "I got a tattoo," Peter rolled up his sleeve to show his 51% motherfucker, and 49% Sonavabitch tattoo. Then he joked "In your case, you are 100% motherfucker" to Chris – Peter obviously really was impressed with Chris. I can't help but feel mom and I contributed to Chris's new found confidence in himself by being obedient towards him. "Technically, I am 100% son of a bitch, and brother of one too," Chris laughed and gave me a snarky glance. I just smiled sweetly in response – let him have his fun at my expense. They continued to make fun of us – they were mostly throwing stuff at us to see what might stick. He joked that my mom had a 'mustache' of hair on her lip while we shaved and I could see a flash in my mom's eyes that one stung her pride. "Which one of these two is your favorite?" Peter asked while we wriggled around in each other's arms trying to shave each other and put on a show for them. "I dunno, I don't think I have a favorite," Chris was being diplomatic – but the competitor in me wanted a definitive answer. "C'mon everyone with dogs or kids plays favorites," I tried to keep a straight face – I wanted to hear this and my ears were perked up even though I was pretending to stay focused on shaving my mother all over. "Nah, I try to kick both their asses evenly, it's not fair to favor one over the other just because they are most like you is it mom?" reading between the lines it was fairly obvious Chris was talking about how I got more favoritism than he did. "No Master, I am sorry I favored your sister and didn't give you the attention and respect you deserve, am I making up for it now?" My mom wrapped her legs tightly around me – in a position Chris calls the "Scissor grind". We both both have our pussies touching and our legs overlap from different directions. "You gotta love seeing their asses like this every day, huh?" Peter once again changed the subject to once again add a little levity. It was hot and stinky in this dirty little room and I think we were all stressed – Peter's being here was was actually helping us to keep it together. "I have every crease in their asses memorized, even when this is over, I'll be jerking off to the rest of this for the rest of my life," I had kept a straight face that long – but the sudden realization that Chris would not always be my boss was like a weight off my shoulders. I know it was a silly idea – I could stop this anytime I wanted, but somehow I had this gnawing feeling that I would always be stomped on and beaten to be kept in line – I guess it was just a silly daydream born out of worry. I couldn't keep the smile off my face at the image of us finally going back to wearing what we wanted and not having to shave each other hairless – and Chris just jerking off to the memory of us doing it. I don't even know – something about picturing that made me hopeful. "What do you mean, this ends?" Peter didn't know our whole story. I would imagine just from my journals alone it would take at least four books of thirty chapters each to tell the twisted and sordid tale up to this point – and we have so much more to go! "Yeah, it didn't always used to be like this between us. They have to remain my little bitch until we finish something this weekend, but after that it's up to them." Chris's voice sounded as conflicted as my thoughts – where was this all going to go? He didn't sound like he was ready to give up authority over us but at the same time he wasn't sure he deserved it. Maybe I am reading too much between the lines – but that is what us girls do, right? My mom must have been thinking about Chris's words because she nicked me – right on the inner part of my ass crack. I hissed but I think if the pain has taught me anything – it's how to endure more of it. "I am sorry Jamie!!" Mom pleaded with me. Was she purposely trying to get us both punished by using my real name? How would I deal on Monday with going back to 'Jamie' – the name sounded so out of place now. "That's okay WENDY!" I was trying to be playful and remind my mom not to use my regular name, but I think it sounded more sarcastic than I intended. "Okay before you cut yourselves to ribbons, stand up. You can shower after you get inspected so you can get to work, but I need to punish you both for dropping the enema early, for mom's wet pussy, for Jamie's little orgasm freak out, and most of all so you understand who owns those precious cunts of yours." Oh boy, that is a lot of punishments – was I sure I was willing to keep doing this? Without Dad as a sanity check my brother could be a real meanie when it came to thinking up punishments. "Keep your legs apart, and your hands on your asscheeks, Cunt."we were in position one – I couldn't see what he was doing to mom but he was using the broom handle on her and I could hear every swing in her groans. I like to get punished first because listening to my mom suffer only makes me agonize more about the inevitable. "Dad is not here, do you understand? Cow tits?" "Yes Sir" my mom was on her fifth caning. "Your whore is going to have one sore snatch, I bet she'll want to take it in the ass instead." Peter offered a coy remark failing to add levity this time – my brother's strikes continued. "Well then I better give her the remainder of her strokes on that hole to even her out. That way both are equally unpleasant," Chris started delivering the remainder of the strikes to her ass. "Who owns that asshole?" My can come off sadistic but there is always a playful edge – but this was not one of those times – he sounded serious and grim. "Your Dad, you and Rahjid, Master." My mom believed dad was still in charge even though it looked like he had abdicated his control over us. "Dad gave up, now it's just me and Rahjid, but he only owns it when you are working. So now who owns that stinker?" My brother was thinking the same thing about Dad as I was – maybe we had more in common than I ever realized about how we process the world. "Grrah," mom was enduring a beat down – "You own it, Master!" there wasn't a trace of doubt in my mother's plea to my brother. "Does dad still own it?" my brother was being relentless – how many strikes was I in for when it was my turn? I had done more things wrong! Mom was quiet – and that wasn't pleasing Chris who delivered a few more strikes waiting for her to answer the inevitable "Look, dad's not here, it's time to do your job though," Chris swung the broom like a jedi lightsaber and it made that woosh noise like when he brought it down hard on my ass. That is when the door opened and we all stopped and looked at the screen door as it slammed behind him. "Don't look so happy ta' see me," He said. Everyone was quiet – we were caught off guard. "Don't let me stop you. It looks like you were teaching them a lesson. I can wait," I couldn't see the man but I knew it wasn't dad. I could hear him move – heavy with the leather of a cop's holster. He had a thick Boston accent And he chewed gum while he spoke. "Officer Mark, to what do we owe the pleasure of one of your timely visits?" Peter was obviously being sarcastic. "Mini-Me, so low ta the ground. I should have assumed you'd worm your way around here. Giving these girls a hahd time ah you?" I was facing away from him but I could sense his imposing presence from behind me as his CB-radio crackled with the buzz of cop chatter. "I heard there were some bizah new girls around in dog collars. I wanted ta check 'em out for myself," I found it hard to believe he was a police officer and he didn't seem surprised we were holding our ass cheeks apart naked and being beaten. This wasn't what I was taught to believe of law enforcement. "Ma'am, is this young man bothering you? Perhaps you'd like ta file a complaint?" he asked my mom with contempt for her. "No Sir, no complaint. I asked him to do it to me," mom clucked nervously. I would have said the same thing (I think). I was nervous – I wanted to run but I stood just like mom. "Okay, and what is your story broom-boy, you her pimp or what? He asked my brother. I know I was supposed to stand up for him – but now was not the time. "I am her son," Chris was being cautious – offering only a modest explanation. "Son?" he chuckled. "That is a first on me," He picked up his walkie-talking and spoke some code to answer the squawking and set it back in his holster. "That true Ma'am, this man who was assaulting you with a broom is your son?" "He is my son, I volunteered for him to do this, Sir" Mom was still nervous but she repeated her earlier claim. He chewed his gum some more as if trying to determine what was really going on. "Do you ladies have any ID? A passport or license I can see." Oh boy, he had to ask for THAT? Peter spit out hysterical laughter - "Show him, sluts!" Was Peter the boss of us too? I waited to see if Mom moved and since she didn't I waited too- hands on ass cheeks, chest out, while looking straight ahead. "C'mon ladies, let's see it," Officer Mark reiterated while chewing impatiently. I know I am the ultimate goody-goody but I've been taught since birth 'stranger danger' and to always trust authority figures. It was killing me inside to stand there and not do what I was told by a member of law enforcement. I bent down and picked up my butt plug and admitted "He is talking about this, Sir". Officer Mark took my 'license' in his gloved hand and stared at it as he was trying to decipher it. "Ass face?" he read off the engraving on it. "Yes sir, that's sort of my name." if he wasn't shocked yet – I might as well be completely honest. The corners of the officer's mouth curled up in a half-smile as if he was slightly amused. "This thing got a birth date on it?" he smacked his gum – I knew he was just messing with me but I wasn't sure what to say. "It doesn't sir," Jamie I summoned up my Taylor Swift voice. "Let me rephrase the question, sweetheart," he smacked his gum "How old are you?" "I am sixteen, Sir." My first thought was stick with the truth – although I felt like maybe being a teenager was going to get me in hot water. "The age of consent in this state is 16, but you are awfully young to be working the streets. I take it this is your mom, too?" He handed me back my license gingerly. He was impossibly handsome –with a square jaw and a gleam in his irish eyes. He had Dave Stravosky's swagger but in a calm and cool way –like he really did deserve to have it and wasn't a bully. "Yes Sir, she is," he put me at ease and I didn't hesitate to answer – my thoughts were on whether I should put the butt plug back up my ass or wait to be told to do so. "You two have been building up quite a reputation for yourselves in a short time, you know." He looked me over – I wondered if he was wishing I was older. "Didn't agree to let brother use the broom on you?" "I am next, I think Sir." I felt like a dumb teenybopper meeting 'New Direction' or Justin Bieber for the first time. He had such powerful shoulders and strong looking arms. "I think that is a shame, you sure you want him to beat you with a broom? Your mom isn't forcing you?" I was lost in his dreamy eyes and I wasn't sure what to say. I have to admit I was kind of smitten and wasn't paying attention to his question. "She isn't forcing me sir, I asked for this discipline," I looked at my brother wondering if I was obviously going ga-ga over this guy but my brother just looked at his shoes and didn't give me any sign. "What did you do to deserve a punishment?" He seemed skeptical I should be punished – but he wasn't putting a stop to it either. "Hey Offissah Mahk, did you pahk the caw in Bahstan Yahd?" Peter tried once again to project a little levity into the awkwardness of this moment but he failed – I felt a strange waft of puppy love rush over me. Why was I so easily impressed with this guy? It wasn't the muscles as much as I think it was the uniform – yes I was in awe of his uniform. "It isn't going to make a lot of sense, Sir." I suddenly felt really silly for living under discipline and wished I could just go 'back to normal' even for twenty minutes to avoid this awkward conversation. "Try me. I hear all kinds of unbelievable shit every single day," he probed further – damn, why did he have to want me to admit what I was being punished for? It was so embarrassing to admit to him. "Well, for one I didn't hold the enema I had in until I was permitted to shit," I dangled that awkward information out there to see if he would let me off the hook but he patiently waited for me to continue with just a trace of a devilish smile. "Then when my mom was cleaning me up, I had an uncontrollable orgasm and held her by the head to my cunt, while she ate me out," was I being too graphic? I was told to not hide behind euphuisms but it was so hard in front of really good looking older guys. "Lastly, it was an attitude adjustment, to establish he is the boss, and we need to learn our place, Taylor men come first." I answered as truthfully as I would have on a Waxerman white alert. "Wicked, I figured maybe you just didn't make enough money last night, that is why most pimp's beat their hos," he said dismissively – wow that was painful. He just saw me as a whore and nothing more. "I actually came here for Mini-me," he forgot me and it made me feel like I was knobby-kneed and flat chested like being twelve all over again. "I didn't do anything wrong, why you guys always hassling me," Peter instantly became defensive. "I know Mini-me, you never do anything," he laughed in disbelief. "Actually, this time it's your brother Jerry. He was tied up and left naked at a dumpster again." I couldn't help but smirk at the 'Again' at the end of that sentence – how often did that exact same thing happen to Jerry? lol. "Okay, you want me to come bail him out of jail again?' Peter replied and now I was smiling at the mental image that every time Jerry got himself tied up and left naked at a dumpster his brother bailed him out – I have to admit it was making me smile even though it shouldn't have. "He said his alleged attackers were a particular midget matching your description, a fat, lumpy blonde haired teenager," Oh pshaw! When Mark said that I knew he was just pulling our chains, but that still hurt my feelings a bit. "ne well-tanned woman in her thirties with sizable knockers and a blonde cheerleader type approximately sixteen both wearing minimal clothing." When Officer Mark finished I realized he had meant Chris was the fat lumpy teenager - I smiled again. "Yeah, so?" Peter asked as if there could clearly have been some other group of people matching that exact description. "Thought you might know someone who fit that description?" Mark shrugged and adjusted himself – he was hunky, I'll give him that. "No, but I would be happy to keep my eye out and let you know if I come across them," Peter answered playfully. I tuned out what happened next – I was lost in Officer Mcdreamy Mark's biceps- but in the end Jerry and him left together. What had just happened? Am I really that much of a bubble headed school girl that I lost the last five minutes of time because of some oily beau hunk? "Well, now what?" Chris sat on the bed with his hands propping up his head in worry. "I would imagine you would finish punishing mom, and then start on me, Sir?" I was growing comfortable with this arrangement and strangely I was not afraid of the broom. "So we can get outside and start working?" I could see my brother was a little disturbed his new soul-mate and companion had just left and he was once again alone with us. "You can say that again," Dad walked in just as I finished offering my brother a reassuring smile that everything would be alright –and the room lit up! All three of us were so glad to see him. "You giving your brother a hard time, slut?" Dad asked playfully – he was holding a big box of condoms he must have got at Sam's warehouse because I can't imagine anyone needing to buy seventy of them at a time anywhere else. "Where have you been?" Mom's tone was familiar. It was the controlling voice she used before the training ever began –when she used to get on the guys about missed appointments and chores they didn't do. She added a delayed "Master?" as an after-thought and probably good she had. "Is that any of your business slut?" Dad didn't seem to notice her tone and cavalierly stood there like the King returned from the crusades to inherit his kingdom. "Have you been beating them with a broom?" Dad seemed disgusted with Chris. When Chris nodded he had, Dad explained "My mom used to beat me with a broom like that, I guess if it knocked some sense into me – it could work on these two cunts. You just have to keep at it, son." When someone is in agreement you should be beaten with a broom – you shouldn't be smiling but I was. I think it's how Dad had made me think he was going to tell Chris not to do it and then sounded so fatherly about suggesting he continue – it was funny in it's own way. "I had to take my old faded acid-washed jeans, records from the 1980s I never listened too, old comic books and magazines and all that crap that was in Rahjid's storage room back home and list it on craigslist. I also put all of our furniture up because if not the bank is going to take it on Friday." Dad explained when he saw we seemed to be waiting for an explanation. "Then I stopped by Home Depot, and found some day laborers with money in their pocket, so I made them a group deal," Dad opened the screen door with a big smile on his face like he had just bought me a pony for my fifth birthday. "Sort of like a Groupon, Dad?" Chris laughed. "Yeah, whatever the fuck that is, exactly like it son," Dad was internet savvy but apparently he never heard of the discount club on the web. I have to admit, I've never used it either. I looked on as Hispanic guys in dirty, sweaty work clothes shuffled into the room. Some of them still had the day's leaves and cement chips stuck to their clothes from the gardening and construction work they had performed. They looked tired but impressed that we were naked and white. I could feel several of them look straight at my boobs and right past mom. I am ordinarily pretty competitive but right then I wasn't feeling it – her and I were in this together and I was realizing we were going to have fuck every one of these men together. Why didn't that scare me? "They paid five hundred for an hour with your sister and mom. You sluts have no problem entertaining them in any way they please I assume?" Dad asked us collectively – he didn't wait for an answer. He just assumed we would agree and walked outside to control the number of men coming in at one time. "Thank you Master," Mom's tone had improved considerably but I wasn't sure Dad even heard her. "As one leaves, I will send in another," Dad called from outside –Chris joined him to sit on the steps and have a talk. Mom and I sprung into action as a team. I was removing their belts and pulling their cocks out of their pants and mom was rolling condoms out with her tongue and applying them to their dicks. I could feel fingers on me – dirty, callous hands groping me from the moment we started and I didn't move to stop anything they did. They touched me everywhere – and tugged, poked and prodded. It wasn't long before my mom and I were each dealing with our own guys separately. Mom was pulling off two guys with her hands while using her mouth on another and I just copied her. Most of them were uncut but their dicks were hard with only a little bit of effort – it felt very natural to be fucking all these strange Mexican guys together. Is it racist to think they are all Mexican? They could have been Honduran or Peruvian, but what the heck, let's say they were Mexican for the sake of discussion. I saw more dick than I had ever seen at once – all brown ones. "Dad, you can send in another guy" the first to shoot his load had lasted thirty seconds in my mouth before melting into his condom "I mean Master!!!" I had better get my shit together or I would be getting punished even harder after this was all over. "That's okay Slut, you will pay for that after," Dad hadn't missed my mistake and I just accepted it was going to be another hard night of hard dicks and hard brooms and hard spankings. These men smelled like onions, motor oil and sweat – I was thankful their dicks were wrapped in condoms and dutifully pulled off the first one with my mouth and spat it into what was going to quickly become a tiny pile to turn into Rahjid's window. The three men who were fucking me weren't satisfied with hands and mouth, so I adjusted myself by standing slightly so I could sit on one guy's dick and let him take my ass and spread my legs so another guy could fuck my pussy and still suck the third dick. I could see Mom give me a wink –a sort of 'atta girl' and for some reason my competitiveness kicked in just a bit. I saw she had two cum-filled condoms to my one so I started bouncing on top of the dick in my ass and grinding to let him get off faster- make his ride more pleasurable but speedy. They cupped my tits, spread my cheeks, pulled my hair, nothing seemed off-limits to them about me. I was a cum bucket only in their eyes. They must have seen me as life support for two boobs and three holes in a blonde wig and nothing else. When his leg muscles spasmed and his toes curled – I smiled at a job well done but fucked myself up and down on his cock a few more times before sliding up and turning around so I could pull the condom off with my mouth. The guy who I had been sucking wasted no time filling the vacant spot in my ass with his wet dick. "Puta, beso negro," the man who had just cum in my ass seemed disgusted I would pull his condom off that way and left. I didn't stop to feel too bad about it – my dad had already let in another man to take his place. My mom and I were fucking three guys each – together like clockwork. I would move after someone came so that I could peel off the condom to add to the growing pile at my feet and someone else would come and slam their dick in my cunt or ass without so much as a warning thrust. Not one of them bothered with lube other than the occasional spit in their hand, and I was okay with that. I was getting juicy – my cunt was wet and my ass was slicked up from all the attention it was receiving. It didn't feel bad to be stuffed with dick – if their cocks didn't smell like dirty mildew with a hint of my ass on them it wouldn't have been that bad at all. I fucked furiously – humping and bumping, grinding and twisting. I could see mom was keeping up with me and I was rarely more than one condom ahead of her. Was she just as competitive as me about this or was I just not satisfying them fast enough? If I thought there was a way to fit a fourth guy in, I would have begged my dad to send one in. It wasn't that I was cock crazy – I just wanted to do more than my mom. Is that obsessive perfectionism or just being an over-acheiver? Maybe it is both. "You sure are horny," Dad laughed as yet he let another man in the motel room to fuck his wife and daughter. I could see he was waiting for me, but hump as hard as I might – I couldn't get one of the three guys in me to dump his sperm into me. I felt like my asshole was probably the size of a half-dollar but I just became animalistic and shameless about it. If they wanted to look – so be it. The guy seemed disappointed to have to take my mom but he obviously felt awkward waiting to join into the three that were passing me around like a ragdoll. I saw him climb on my mother and actually eat her out before he slid his dick inside of her. I thought I was being gross – but I wondered if he just realized about seven of his friends had probably just used that same hole? Mom was really being fuck crazy – she was pulling off condoms with her mouth and depositing them to her side like trophies. "Way to back that ass up, Mom" I heard Chris call from outside and with that I got my second wind to keep up with her – pumping and grinding on these strangers like they were long lost lovers just come home from the great war. Dad was holding his cell phone like the sword of a samurai warrior as he waltzed in to survey us getting plowed by Mexican cock. I knew his was taking pictures but I was so caught up in taking three dicks at once that I could barely manage a smile for him while deep throating a cock in my mouth. "The sweat on your forehead makes you look so sexy," Dad admired mom smugly while he snapped some shots of her before turning his attention to get us both in a shot. If mom was any indication of how I looked – her hair had that 'freshly fucked' bed-head look and sweat was dripping down not only her forehead but across her chest and down her back in a fine sheen. In a way – I couldn't help but think of a race horse that had just run at a gallop across the finish line as she dunked her 'badonkadonk' up and down on the lap of a Mexican day-laborer who was just sitting back and enjoying the ride while holding her tits in his hands. Dad didn't have any words of encouragement for me – I guess it is creepy to hear your own father call you 'sexy' but I have to admit I felt a little left out that he didn't offer me a complement – I guess I am vain at times. It definitely worked though to keep me bumping and grinding on the chest of one guy while sucking the dick of another and trying to let another work his cock into my ass. It was difficult to keep score as the sweat- dripped into my eyes. I hate to sound racist but there was a blend of brown skin and mustaches as men liberally used my holes and then when I knew they had cum I quickly grasped at their dick with my mouth so I could peel off the cum filled condom and add it to my pile like so many Mario coins in my own 'Mexican Brother's" Nintendo game. "Half-way done," Dad said – I wasn't even sure if he had left the room or stayed to watch us fuck and suck and I can't say that I had any inhibition about it either way. As the eternal optimist, I was glad to hear we had reached the half-way mark and I wondered if Chris would have joked about whether that meant the glass was half full or half-empty of cum, lol. "Have you invited more, Master?" Mom's voice incredulous- I guess she was starting to slow down a little after her sprint of fucking and sucking – but I had energy to spare. "Oh you love it," Dad smiled teasingly at my mom while he squatted in front of her. It reminded me of the playful way two honeymooners would talk for some reason. "You thirsty?" Dad asked kindly of mom. I couldn't help but feel an instant wave of guilt or frustration that I wasn't being asked the same thing. I could have really enjoyed some water – even if it was slurped out of a dog dish right about then. "I would be grateful for a little water, Master?" Mom said respectfully after unrolling another spent condom with her mouth. "Water? Chris tells me you drank his piss earlier today," the was a sudden edge of sarcasm to Dad's voice that bordered on disappointment with us. Mom had already wrapped her lips around another dick and all she could mutter was "Fuck, fuck, fuck" as I saw her getting throttled by a man pulling her tits up, while another guy was driving her ass downways with his every thrust. I was getting the same – but my attention was focused on Dad and her. "You'll both offer urinal service to these gentlemen when they are done," Dad said as if that was now a 'thing' and we had any idea what 'urinal service' was going to be. Well, I had some idea what it was from how it sounded – but I was surprisingly not scared – I probably should have been but I had my attention focused on more of the immediate – in how to pull off and please these men. I heard a man howl as he butt fucked my mom in ecstasy – I couldn't be sure if it was because he had just came or he had overhead my dad's instruction and approved thoroughly – either way she counted it as a 'win' and turned to gobble the condom back off his chubby dick. "Master, please send in another," Mom looked up to give me an exasperated but reassuring wink – we were already getting fucked, it's not like more would change what we were doing. "Already on his way. I heard him," Dad laughed as he ushered in another man straight away. I tried to up my 'A-game' and trying to satisfy five men at a time. I was doing my best to offer up every part of my body –from ass to tummy to tits to mouth to cunt to feet to fingers. I would try to tease and prep a guy while getting him hard so he could fuck an open hole – and anyone who was taking their time I would double-down my efforts on – it was like a reverse game of 'whack-a-mole' where I was trying to keep as many holes filled as possible. I know that mom and I are competitive – and right then I think I was completely lost in the moment and wishing I had a fourth place for men to fuck so I could 'win' this silent contest that have developed between us – the one that had no rules. I was completely in the 'zone' – I didn't let any inhibition prevent me from lustily grinding or letting a finger or a tongue go somewhere a dick was. While I 'multi-tasked' myself for the men fucking me, I noticed my mom staring at me with what might have been awe or pride or maybe she was just thinking of how she could steadily beat me at this silly little game – because slow and steady she continued to pull off men's condoms at almost the same rate as I was – every time another satisfied customer. Mom's focus on me had kept her from noticing one of her tricks had no condom on – he blurted "Chiquito me gustan tus chupadas" and then arched his back and shot a load all over my mom's hair and to her surprise. She would keep her mind on her own cocks instead of mine after that I was sure of that much! One of the guys who had seen it pulled out of her ass and with two jerks of his unsheathed dick shot a load on her tits. We were losing control of these guys – they were getting wilder as one shoved a dick straight down her throat 'garrabaggall' she spluttered. I used my hands to pull the guys around me closer so they wouldn't follow suit – I wasn't sure what was going on with Rahjid and the condoms, but I wasn't going to lose the little condom collection game if I could help it! "Sir, can you tell them to wear a condom please?" mom sounded submissive and winded. She had been in advanced aerobics but this hot and sweaty fuck-fest was wearing her down. The guys were getting grabby and handsy with us and pulling our hair, tits, spreading our ass cheeks as far apart as they could – it's a good thing we had spent the last few weeks getting used to it or I am positive I would have ran screaming. "Why? Are you afraid you'll catch something or get pregnant?" Dad laughed. It reminded me of a line from the movie Juno where Ellen Page's character is already pregnant and she says "What other shenanigans can I get in?" when her parents are concerned about her going out. "It's for Rahjid's niece, Master." I would have to ask mom what she meant by that later – right now I had a dick in my mouth, two guys trying to fuck my ass simultaneously, and one on top of my head while another was in my hands being stroked hard. Chris walked in the door way and looked us both over with a chuckle "Wow, you two cum-pigs are really having fun in here, huh?" I couldn't answer him either – and I wasn't sure 'fun' was the applicable word for what we were doing. "That pussy is really busted, Sis." Chris was adding to my shame by standing behind me and watching me grind my ass on two dicks. The way my pussy felt – I would have agreed with him if I didn't have a dick in my mouth. I am sure I looked completely splayed out. I was surprised he moved the two guys behind me to the side and jammed one of his chubby fingers up my asshole "Smells like parmesan cheese to me," he sniffed before dragging his finger above my lip so I could smell it too and announcing "Dirty Sanchez!" with a chuckle. I had a sudden image of my face flash through my imagination with a pencil thin mustache – and the name 'Dirty Sanchez'. I didn't give him the satisfaction of a cute wince at his joke – I just kept sucking dick and holding myself open for the two guys to return to my ass. Mom had already used this time to catch up to my lead and I wasn't going to let her out-fuck me now. "You want a dirty Sanchez too, don't you mom?" oh goodie, he was going to give one to mom and delay her so I could finish off the next three guys. I didn't even watch him drag his finger across mom's face – nor did I visibly detect a mustache painted on when he traced the line on her upper lip when I finally did look up. Mom was a complete hot mess – she had cum and drool dripping down her lip, but at least she didn't have a pencil-thin poop mustache. Chris was ordering us to change positions while he snapped some photos with the cell phone. Mom playfully wiggled her butt like a puppy at Chris letting him know she was still willing to play along and be a good fuckbunny. I wasn't going to let her one up me – when we changed positions I used the opportunity to pull myself up with my arms over a cock and then slam myself down – impaling my pussy onto a waiting dick below me. I did this about six times aggressively pounding my pussy onto his dick before I noticed mom fucking herself on a dick – but in short but rapid motions. I decided to mirror what she was doing and before I knew it we had matched cadence. I knew mom had been racing me this entire time – I could see it in her face but now we seemed to have reached a final stretch and the race was going to go to whoever could maintain it. She didn't have to say we were racing and we didn't have to have explicit rules – I just knew from looking at her. "Master, you can send in one more?" Mom said almost teasing me with her slight lead while sucking off a condom with her mouth and then replacing it with another cock without hesitation. "Sorry, you fucked them all, whore." Dad sounded amused at my mom's eagerness. "You know what that means, right?" Dad asked and I instantly looked at the pile of condoms trying to mentally calculate who won the race. "Um, that you love me, Master?" Mom wasn't going to tell him about the race so we couldn't be judged by them – she looked completely over-fucked now that it was over. "I's time to water the pigs, you earned it!" he genuinely sounded like that was all our idea – and I knew he meant the 'urinal service' he talked about earlier. "I am sorry Master, are you mad about something?" Mom tried to wipe the cum off her face around her eyes. "No, I like you just how you are, groveling and rolling around in cum," Dad acted like he had no idea what she was talkin about – but there had been an edge of anger in the subtext of his words. "You two get in the bathroom and kneel with your butts on your heels and your backs to the wall. Hold your mouths open and wait," he demanded. I was high on adrenalin from the kinky rough sex that had jangled my piercings and blasted my holes as well as the impromptu competition - my body was pumping endorphins through my body and I quickly moved into the bathroom. Mom's legs seemed wobbly – like she was bow-legged from the fucking she had received as she joined me. "I feel like I've been thoroughly fucked, what about you?" Mom whispered as she took the instructed position alongside me squatting in the disgusting bathroom. "Shhhh, you'll get us in trouble, hooker" I slapped mom's thigh playfully – before putting my hands behind my head and keeping my back straight, tits out, ass cheeks tight like I am supposed too. Dad pretended not to notice my mom's slouching – she was exhausted but it was still obvious she was doing her level best to squat with legs apart and on the balls of her feet while she waited like me for what was going to be 'urinal duty'. He had a marker in his hand "Hold those knockers as far apart as you can," and we both obeyed pulling our tits apart to expose our breast bone while holding our mouths completely open. I was sweaty and cummy and on adrenalin over-drive. Where mom was having a hard time keeping up – I was having a hard time keeping from nervously shaking my left leg. I have always had 'restless leg syndrome' when I get nervous. He wrote 'Urinal' on mom's breast bone and drew an arrow to point up to her face. "Are you punishing us, Master?" Mom wasn't sure if this was supposed to be a treat, regular discipline or what and honestly I was so confused – I couldn't have told her if she had asked me. "No, I think you know the purpose of a slut's mouth by now, don't you cow-tits?" Dad said without a trace of sympathy for us. "To suck and swallow, Master," Mom didn't hesitate in the least. "Can I do Jamie's chest?" My brother was standing right behind Dad. "Why would you ask me? We are partners aren't we? Knock yourself out, Son." Dad patted Chris on the back and looked me up and down with scorn. My brother wrote 'Servicio de 24 horas' across my chest which I am guessing meant either 24 hour service or service 24 whores? "See, I paid attention in Spanish class," he chuckled. Then he wrote 'aseo público' which in all honesty, I have no idea what that means –if I had to guess 'public ass'? Chris had some of those toy handcuffs we bought earlier and locked our hands behind our backs when he was finished writing on our chest. He added a final 'un huelepedos mamacita' on his my stomach as a final 'gotcha' before slapping me hard on my tummy. I still had rock hard abs even though I've not worked out in weeks. Chris wrote 'La leche' under one of mom's tits and drew an arrow straight to the nipple while we both squatted like dummies with our mouth's open – what else could we do? He wrote 'una huila madre' under the other boob. "How does it feel to be urinals?" Dad had that shit-eating grin on his face, which I am sure is a pun of some kind given the situation. I waited for mom to speak since I was still processing this experience and my pulse was racing. "If this will get us closer to the Internet User's forum group for you, it feels like the right thing to do, Master." Mom sounded submissive but at the same time I caught a hint from her voice that she was second-guessing him – he had just come back and already there was tension? Dad didn't have a chance to drill further into those thoughts because I caught the first rain drops of a Mexican laughing down at us as he painted my face and tits with his warm, acrid yellow piss. There was another standing right next to my mother who was doing the same and having a grand old time while we held our mouths open. They smiled as they stood in line and not one showed even the least bit of sympathy – much less surprise that women were willing to do this. I wondered if this was not the first time these guys had done this because I would have expected at least one to say 'hey, this isn't right, maybe we shouldn't do this'. Instead, grin after grin – an unending train of dicks were unzipped right in front of my face and splashed me with their sour-apple piss. They got it up my nose, in my eyes, in my hair, down my chest, almost everywhere except for my mouth – I thought guys had better aim than this? "Open those mouths, urinals!" Dad would tell us "Wider" that we keep our mouths as big a target as possible. I knew he was snapping more photos of this. I had to wonder what exactly he planned to do with them? Use them as porn to masturbate too when we finally finish our tour of slutdom? I really couldn't concentrate on that between pee-shots from the laughing men lined up to use my face like a toilet? Mom took it just like I did and after the fourth or fifth guy were getting fairly used to being soaked with piss. I could even see a faint smile on my mom's face as she held her mouth open politely to await the next man in line. Each guy would give it a little shake when they were done and some were even hard again now that they had a little time to recover. Now don't get me wrong here journal – I know I am painting the picture of dutiful Jamie being willing to try anything and endure whatever comes our way, but if I had to pick fucking Roscoe or being the urinal for about 8 mexican guys I am not sure which I'd have picked. I was deeply humiliated and degraded but at the same time – I was taking solace that at least my mom was doing it with me. So while I may make it sound like this 'rolled off my back' (and front and chin) and I was able to keep calm, I was actually shivering and probably had a look on my face like I just ate a hundred lemons. "Sis, urine so much trouble!" Chris made googly eyes at me as the last man splurted his yellow stream in my face and I have to admit I almost couldn't keep a straight face. I know his joke was silly but I wanted to laugh at how awkwardly serious things were just now. "You make a pretty good toilet rim, stay like that" He started to piss on us – zigging and sagging his stream across both mom and I. Dad joined him "Not a bad idea son, we don't want to be accused of not giving a piss about the girls, do we?" but there was a subtle undertone of hostility to Dad's tone as he soaked me right on my wagging tongue – I guess some guys can be very accurate with it after all. "Don't cross the streams - ghostbuster style" Chris started to act like his dick had a mind of its own and the pressure was forcing him to spray it around wildly back and forth between my mom and I. Dad and Chris finished about the same time shaking their cocks and looking at each other like they had just won the lottery. "What should we do with them now?" Chris asked my dad. "You girls hungry?" Dad smiled evilly. ------- Chapter 32: Bill's Journal: The Beatings Will Continue Until Morale Improves ****Note to reader: This is an excerpt of Bill's journal from Wednesday approximately 7:00 pm from his perspective. In order to increase readability, some of the dialogue exchanged was altered to appear in a 'narrative' story format. CASH EARNINGS WEDNESDAY WENDY: $385 JAMIE: $345 "What should we do with them now?" Chris asked me with a smirk. "You girls hungry?" I was making an obvious joke. The pissy little bitches kneeling and dripping with sweat, sex and pee from head to toe took me completely seriously. I could tell from the looks on their faces they knew that if I made them drink piss when they were thirsty what I was implying when I asked if they were hungry. I don't know what I was expecting when I made the joke – I think sometimes my wife reads too much into these things. Sometimes a joke is just a joke. I guess I would have expected a "God No!" or even a wince but the two little piss gobblers on their knees seemed ready to take whatever I was going to feed them – even if it was a turd sandwich. "Good Girls, open up!" I ordered and they kept their mouths wide open. I cleared my throat and raised up a big gob of phlegm and then leaned over my wife's face. I waited for a moment for her beautiful greenish-blue eyes to open and look into mine before I dropped the entire gob of spit right on to her tongue. "That should taste pretty good compared to that Mexican cum you two have been gargling on for the last half hour," I laughed but my wife didn't swallow or even give me a smile. "Oh that's right, you dumb bitches have to be told when you can swallow ... okay leave your mouth open, I want to watch it slide down." I commanded. There it was – I saw it in her eyes, that almost imperceptible look only a husband who has been married for ten years or more can notice in his wife's eyes. It's the one when you want to watch the Super bowl and she tells you that there is a new season of Mike and Molly but "it's fine that you watch your Super bowl". It isn't fine and she isn't going to say a word about it, but you can see it in her eyes that she is scratching down a mental note to bring up at some later date. I quietly wondered if my wife was going to ever bring up any of the things I made her do when she was my bitch to command? "I am fresh out of snot. Son do you think you could feed your hungry sister, so we can get these two cunts out on the streets?" I looked down my nose at my wife –while she struggled to hold her tongue out and up and let my phlegm drip down her throat. "With Pleasure, Dad" Chris didn't hesitate to cough up a big old loogie and when he got in his sister's face to feed it to her like a mama bird passing a chewed up worm to its young – he actually burped it into her mouth. That boy can be particularly disgusting and inspired at times! I was interested to see if Jamie made a face. There was a moment where she looked like she was drinking spoiled milk but like her slut of a mother she held her tongue out and up and waited for the white bubble of snot to drip down for our amusement. I can't say that I am surprised by any of this – I've seen them endure so much hardship and humiliation over the last few weeks but it really never gets old to watch a fresh performance by the Taylor girls. "Are you two cunts in a hurry to get back out on the street or do you have time to suck our dicks before you go?" I asked mockingly. Wendy mumbled something incoherent with her mouth still wide open and her tongue straight out of her mouth. "You know I can't understand your dumb asses, go ahead and swallow," I offered. "We are your obedient cock-suckers Master, if you want us to suck your dicks, just give the order. I'd take it out, but my hands are cuffed behind my back Sir" Wendy said very matter of fact – like this was the most ordinary request in the world. "Yes you are, but you two seemed to prioritize walking the streets, so I thought I'd ask," I could see that what I was saying wasn't coming out right. I meant that to sound playful - how Chris and Jamie tease each other back and forth – but it was coming out all mean and sadistic. "I will unzip it for you then, lazy bitch" I grunted as I pulled out my cock and let my wife start sucking me off. I started to reflect on the last few hours. Chris wasn't shy about having his sister join in. I told them to go slow and not make us cum right away. I took my phone out and started tapping down my journal notes – I thought it would seem kind of sadistic if I acted like I was multi-tasking and half interested. In truth, when I went back to start writing this journal entry and looked at what I wrote it was all nonsense and gibberish. If there is one thing that has been a huge plus from all this, it is that my wife has become an expert knob-gobbler. She can suck a dick like Tony Romo throws touchdown passes for the Cowboys. I couldn't concentrate while she sucked my cock if my life depended on it. Speaking of Football, that is part of the reason for all this mess. I used to be very active on an internet user group forum and specifically one about sports. It was a place where guys could shoot the shit during the day and talk about 'guy stuff'. One of those forum members was "Graymalkin" - He went to my rival high school at the same time I played ball back when I was in school. I guess you could call him my 'nemesis' because he and I used to have internet arguments all of the time. If I liked Romney, then he liked Obama, if I liked the Cowboys then he liked the Steelers, if I liked Ice Cream then he did not. There was nothing we found we could agree on and I began to wonder if he was doing that intentionally or he was quite simply a man who was in every way my exact polar opposite. I can't say that we ever changed anyone's opinion about anything from the discussions and arguments we had online – but then that is the nature of internet discussions anyway. Graymalkin used to give me a hard time about not being awarded the game-ball at the big game between our two schools and I used to tell him that I would be bringing it to the annual forum get together and he'd have to eat his words. I've since found I had a lot of other priorities besides spending my time in useless arguments on the Internet. I think it was just a way to blow off steam and maybe on some level validate I was an 'Alpha Dog' by 'winning' at a discussion on something to do with politics, religion, sports or computer gaming. I think on some level, when Wendy became the successful bread-winner AND was able to come home and be a responsible mom, it was sapping my testosterone and this was some outlet for me to take out my frustrations at not being in the gender role I was always told the Man should be in when I was growing up. When she hit me with her "Declaration" of new rules I was even more humiliated and emasculated than I had ever been and I just left. I wanted to get out of the house and get away from who I was and I think the internet discussions had been another form of escapism. I think the porn addiction I had – was also a form of addiction. I liked to read dirty little stories about perverted things and look at naughty pictures. A few months ago I got an offer that sounded too good to be true. Someone contacted me about starting a 'modeling business' with local girls. I told myself that this was a chance for me to make some money selling webclips or porn pictures – but given I had never paid a dime for any of the quality porn I saw, I should have known there was no way for me to make money at this. I was too seduced by the idea of taking pictures of horny girls in swimsuits. In retrospect, the girls seemed a little too eager to shed their clothes and cavort around for my digital camera. These were Jamie's friends from school. I couldn't tell Wendy that I was doing this for fear of what she'd think and I certainly couldn't tell Jamie that I was taking pictures of her friends – I should have known this was not right. I made a mistake and I own that now. That is why I am journaling it – to come to accept it and learn from my mistakes. I can't help but think that I might be making a mistake now. I am enjoying having my cock sucked by an eager wife who wants to serve me obediently – who wouldn't? But am I doing something that is too good to be true? Do I deserve to be this happy? I feel like Charlie Brown some times. You know how he gets to be Captain of the softball team - but it is the losingest softball team of all time? There is something ironic about being the biggest loser. The one who at least has the football placed in your sights even though when you go to kick it you know it's going to be yoinked out from under your foot at the last second. The thing is – not everyone gets a chance to be captain of the softball team or have the football put in their sights to give it a kick- so maybe I should count my blessings. I am just an ordinary, everyday guy. I sometimes have deep thoughts but I know I will never process the world the way my wife does. She has a hundred scenarios running through her mind at once and she works well when she is conflicted about something because she weighs all the options. I can't say the same is true of me. I like my life to be simple and uncomplicated. If I think I am doing right – even if I am on the wrong course then that is usually good enough for me. However, for the last few hours I've been as conflicted as Wendy would be on Black Friday at Bed, Bath and Beyond - What to buy, how much of it and where to start. The news that we were losing the house had hit me like a ton of bricks. I was gripped with uncertainty about what to do but worst of all – I was brought back mentally to where I was a few weeks ago before all this happened. All the confidence and swagger I had developed went right out the window and I was confronted with the realization that maybe this is the real me – a failure as a man, a failure as a father. Yes, I know the irony of watching my naked daughter suck my son's dick right in front of their mother sucking my own dick while I contemplate my parenting choices. I like to sit in silence in the truck. My son likes to gab and joke and I smile and nod while he does – but that is when I do my thinking – and today on the way out here I was going to release these two little cum gobblers from their promise to be obedient sluts. I know a part of me felt guilty about all the shit we made them do and put up with and a part of me has enjoyed every single minute of every single hour of every single day of being the undisputed master of the house and the cunts inhabiting it. The part of me that felt guilty was put back in charge of my thinking when I heard Bitterman say that we were losing the house and there was nothing we could do about it. The part of me that is a fearful little person who lets his fears rule his thoughts. I thought we had our fun at the girls expense and they've paid us back over a hundred times for all the rotten shit they did to me and Chris when they were in charge of us. I sometimes wonder if Wendy had even intended to make us serve naked or if it was a misunderstanding that we all just rolled with and snowballed into what we are doing now. I assumed they would be grateful I was going to release them from their obligations and be mad at me for letting the house get taken away even after Jamie got kicked out of school and Wendy got fired from a great job – probably ending her professional career. I was shocked and dismayed that neither of them were ready to give up on what we were doing. "That is it you fucking sluts, now switch dicks and finish me off" I pulled out of Wendy's cock hole and slammed my wet dick right into my daughter's perfect pink lips. Chris gave me a high-five as he let his mother slurp his dick. "You know if you two are extra good, I may just tie you up in the living room tonight," I was pleased with the blowjob and let it show in my voice but quickly added "Crotch to nose of course." "Actually, I was planning on tying them both up behind the motel as punishment," Chris said effortlessly. He had his hands on his hips as he leaned into his mother's mouth with his hips. "If they don't each earn five hundred, then these brooms go up their asses". I could feel Jamie's teeth chatter nervously along the throbbing vein of my cock at the mention of the brooms. "What's the matter girls? I thought you needed this discipline in order to maintain being good little whores?" I said sensing their discomfort with Chris's plan. "There are kids who saw me out there this afternoon Master," Wendy answered while gulping my son's purplish dick head. "That never bothered you with the Waxerman boys before, And? What did they do when they saw you?" I knew if it had been some sort of problem Wendy would probably be in jail for indecent exposure. In a motel of whores I had a funny feeling this wouldn't seem so bizarre and I was naturally right. "Well, they um laughed, and..." Wendy was obviously searching for the right words to say. I could tell she was uncomfortable and she was using her expert cock sucking to stall. I grabbed her hair and gave it a hard yank. "You are being talked to by your superior, now give me a straight answer cow-tits or I will find something wider than a broom to shove up your ass no matter HOW much cash you bring in, understood?" I was hoping lightning was flashing in my eyes and I was coming across in control and in charge and I could tell from the look on her face that I was. "Well Master," she took her mouth completely off Chris's dick and let him drive it into her cheek while she answered me. "I was embarrassed to say because you would laugh and want us out there every day." She was waiting for me to say something. I've found that when I leave a long awkward pause and just wait it can be more effective to let her keep talking and wondering what I am thinking – even though it seems to frustrate her just a bit. "They played helicopter on my tits and used my butt plug for a shovel, Master?" she winced awaiting my reaction. I chuckled softly and asked what helicopter was. "They wanted me to make engine noises and hung on my tits like they were propellers, Master" a fresh wave of pink washed across my wife's face as she relived the experience in her mind to describe it to me. She is still very tan but it's always nice to see her become flush with embarrassment, I can't tell you why I love that expression on her face so much other than I just do. "Did you make the noises?" I asked. "I didn't know what to do, and I was worried I would be punished if you found out that my passport was missing from my ass, so I played along, kind of white alert, Master" Wendy stumbled over the explanation. "You did good," I put my finger under her chin while Jamie continued to suck my balls and dick. "Thank you Master!" Wendy genuinely seemed proud of what she had done when I gave her the metaphorical pat on the back. "Which is why you will have brooms up your asses no matter how much you earn," I could see Wendy look crestfallen when I announced she would be punished no matter if she reached the stated goal. I know she is goal driven and I would have to think of a new one for her. "You little cunt, you were about to make the five hundred in no time flat, you knew that. There is no risk involved with a goal like that. You need discipline, so you'll have your asshole's packed with cocks and then tonight you will thank us when we jam brooms up there. Chris and I will discuss a stretch goal to replace this one with because it is TOO easy for whores like you, is that understood?" "Yes Master," Wendy looked sullen as she responded to my threat. "You will tell those kids if they ask, that your trainers couldn't risk losing your license and passport again but that you need your assholes to stay stretched and ready and you asked for the brooms. You will tell them they can use them like steering wheels or propellers or anything they want, but if they pull them out of your ass, they need to let you clean them off before they put them back in. We'll mark a big red circle on them and they are not to shove them in further than that." "Hah, look at it this way ass face, you can finally say you are learning to drive a stick," Chris executed a perfect teasing remark and Jamie's eyes reflected back the equivalent of sticking her tongue out at him. I wish I could master that tone at will when I want to add a little levity to the conversation. "Ass face, you have exactly sixty seconds to make me cum or I will..." I gasped. I was about to say something about her having to fuck Roscoe again or spend hours with those purple poppers cutting off the circulation to her perky little tits and engorge them. However, the dirty little slut had just popped my cork and I splurged a full load of cum into her hot little mouth. "Ask and you shall receive, Sir!" Wendy seemed proud of her daughter's ability to make me cum – even if it might have been lucky coincidence. "Permission to make you cum as well, Master?" she looked up at Chris and hardly had to wait for his smiling approval before returning to her duties as family cock sucker. "Hold your beak open and let me see that cum on your tongue before you get to swallow it," I demanded of my daughter. Jamie's eyes are crystal blue and she has such an angel face that when you see her do something degrading there is a little extra thrill. I am always reminded of a line from that Van Halen song Hot for Teacher. 'Little girl from Cherry Lawn, how can you be so bold?' Chris exploded into his mother's face while face fucking her in less than thirty seconds. In that time, while watching my cum pool on my daughter's pink tongue in front of me I wondered how many dicks she had sucked in the last few hours while I had been gone. A sneaking suspicion of mine has been that Wendy and Jamie secretly love sucking dick and doing all these disgusting things. At first I thought that perhaps they were pretending to love it in order to suck all the fun out of making them do it. I know that sounds like crazy paranoia but I dated my share of girls before Wendy and they can put you through a lot of psychological torture and blue balls by their very nature. I think if I confronted them with my theory that they liked this treatment they would think I was being petty or silly. I know that the body sends signals to the brain of women due to outside stimulus that gets them wet – even when they aren't 'turned on'. I am not talking about the equivalent of a girl getting an inconvenient boner. I used to get them all the time when I was in a situation that wasn't a turn on, some times in the gym when showering with guys and there is zero chance in hell I am gay. It was just the danger and adrenalin sending signals to my brain that I was about to do something that caused a physical response. It was fun to make them admit 'only wicked bitches get turned on by this treatment' when doing affirmations and I discovered one of them was wet. However, now a part of me wonders if these girls aren't truly 'wicked' and wanting to be kept this way? I gave them an out – a chance to stop this because we've lost the house and they both volunteered to remain whores to earn money for us to have a place to live? I had to remove myself from the discussion a few hours ago to give myself time to think that all through. It made me feel guilty that Wendy was willing to continue to sacrifice her dignity and ass along with her daughter in order to keep a roof over our head after this weekend when the house is gone. I understood her stated reason for continuing the discipline part of our relationship. If we were lax then the two of them would revert back to how they were before the training began and find it difficult to get the motivation to go down the street sucking dicks. A twisted and perverted part of me that was reading between the lines though saw another agenda as a possibility. What if my daughter and wife of almost twenty years were really turned on by this arrangement and didn't want it to end? That has been something I've wanted for a long time but it was just a fantasy – How could anyone live this way night and day for the rest of their lives? How could they WANT to be groveling and humiliated every day for the rest of their lives? I drove around for a bit looking at the people on Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd. I saw how there were prostitutes, homeless bums and drug addicts starting to emerge on the sidewalk. This is their life – there is no 'and later we go home back to the quiet and safe suburbs', they live in this jungle every day and don't have the option to end it. Would we be like that? I hate to be conflicted and maybe I was over thinking things. I needed to clear my head so I drove on back to our house – for as long as it IS our house. There was already a notice on the door about the foreclosure and public auction of the house. I quickly Craigslisted our furniture and all the stuff that I had in Rahjid's storage room. There was a time when this stuff would have meant something to me. The acid-washed 1980s jeans and polo shirts that I've had since high school and most likely don't fit me. I don't know why I hung on to old things like this – nostalgia for days gone past. There was a box of old VCR tapes of movies I've seen dozens of times like Top Gun and Caddyshack – I don't even own a VCR anymore. There were cards I'd collected of baseball and football stars when I was a boy. I thought they may be worth something but nobody really cares about a TOPP's Jim Rice anymore. The kids stopped collecting those years ago – the only people interested are guys my age or older. I looked in the box that meant so much to me at one time, the one that Wendy and Jamie had agreed to get back for me. There was a VHS tape of me running the final game of the season and a game ball with all the other player's signatures and Coach Heck's "Atta Boy" written on the side for me. Would he still say "Atta Boy" if he knew I whored out my wife and daughter to get the ball back? Was a leather ball really worth all this effort? So I could prove something to a guy I met on the internet? I couldn't find it in my heart to give two shits about Graymalkin now. A few months ago it was the highlight of my life to picture his face when he has to eat crow and admit I was right about how it all went down back in high school and how I used to be a popular jock with his life in front of him. Then I thought about that choice of words - 'Used to be'. I asked myself "Then what am I now?" Am I a 'Used to be?' or am I a grown man with two almost grown kids and a hot wife who has a second act of his life in front of him? Craigslist is pretty amazing because in the time it took me to process these thoughts I was already getting responses from people wanting to set up a time to come see the house and buy our stuff. Everyone just wanted one or two things but someone wanted to buy us out completely. It was Wendy's co-worker Vicky. She said she was going to donate most of the stuff to a charity drive she was doing but that she wanted to come by and see everything and would make us an offer. I know Vicky was some kind of rival of my wife at work and knew all about how she got fired and I was surprised she didn't say anything in the email about any of that. I fired off an email back to thank her for her interest – I'd like to get rid of all this stuff in a single deal. I asked her if she realized I was Wendy's husband – the name Bill Taylor is pretty common and my email is Iceman5142 so she might not have known. She wrote back 'Oh yes, I know who you guys are, can you have Wendy there when I come over, I want to apologize to her about everything'. I thought for a solid five minutes about how to respond to that. I was still wrestling with the idea that Wendy had essentially refused to stop whoring even when I gave her the easy way out. I will admit that a part of me was kind of furious with her – why had she not taken me up on my generous offer? I don't want to admit this even to myself but I was kind of jealous. I have not been jealous that she's fucked other guys, because I know she has done it because I ordered her to and in the end she knew she belonged to me. I was jealous that she was out there sucking dicks and fucking dicks and slurping dicks and sitting on dicks and loving on dicks because she wanted to be doing it. I know this may sound weird but in the strangest of ways I was jealous that she has the ability to be out there doing it and I do not. She is beautiful and people still want what she has but I don't have that kind of appeal to older women - much less younger ones. I wish I was more articulate so I could put into words that while I don't wish I was the one sucking dicks and showing my ass to strangers, I felt some sort of jealousy that I could never be the kind of person anyone would want to do things like that. I was going through the five stages of grief about my thoughts and that means going from denial to anger to bargaining to whatever the other two stages are when I was emailing Vicky about the furniture and our clothes. At that time I was angry and so I wrote back 'Well, I would love for her to be here but right now she is down at a motel on MLK drive sucking as many black cocks as she can find, so it's just me here now'. Vicky must have been sitting right next to her computer or had email on her phone because she shot back, 'Oh, it sounds like trouble in paradise? Sorry to hear you lost control of her. I can't come until tomorrow afternoon anyway'. There was something about how catty that short email was that made me explode inside. I wrote about three versions of a reply before deciding on 'God damn it, there is no trouble in paradise, be here at 2pm, I'll make sure the bitch and her daughter are here, bring cash'. That was what made up my mind for me that I needed to go back down to the motel and reassert my authority. I had this image in my mind of Vicky sneering at me and laughing at me failing at this and for some reason I could only see red at that time. As I was leaving the house, Mrs. Waxerman was walking her dog along our sidewalk. That is no coincidence – she spends a great deal of time passing by our house and looking in our windows to get more ammunition for her gossip. I wonder why this woman just doesn't fuck the fuck off sometimes? "I don't have time to talk now," I said as I headed for my truck. I knew she was going to try to talk to me – she loves to waste my time with pleasantries but right then I did not give two fucks about what she thought. I wanted to get back to my wife and daughter and say that if they want to be kept in bondage for the rest of their lives I'll make their lives god damned hell and then some – I was fired up and ready. "Oh, where are you heading off too? No doubt to pick up those hussies?" Mrs. Waxerman's dog, Mr. Snips sneered at me in the same way. I wanted to just ignore this useless bitch and drive off but I am glad I stopped and talked to her. I think it gave me time to calm down and collect my thoughts. "Yes Ma'am, I sure am," I like to put on a country accent when I talk to her. I know it sounds like pandering but she seems to enjoy the illusion and doesn't call me out on the fact I was just talking without an accent five minutes ago. If she did I would just say that I sometimes slip in and out of it but you can take the boy off the mountain, but you can't take the mountain out of the boy. I've had that line ready – but she never finds fault with anything I say or do. "Oh?" Mrs. Waxerman was being coy and I knew she wanted me to give her some juicy dirt on the girls but she wasn't going to come right and ask for it. "Well, it is kind of a mess right now. Can we talk about this later?" I should have just walked away instead of asking. "Yes, I am not one to tell tales as you know that gossip is the devil's language. But I am sure some in the neighborhood would draw a conclusion from the notice of eviction that was placed on your door today and cast all kinds of aspersions." She said with a self-satisfied tone of contempt. "You have no idea, I am really not in the mood for this right now," I shrugged and started to turn around and walk over to my truck. "It seems that while you are here trying to hold things together at home, your two brazen harlots are out gallivanting around and joy riding to who knows where, is that it Mr. Taylor?" Mrs. Waxerman's words about my family rarely bothered me. In fact, I was the one who came up with 'white alert' to push her buttons in the first place. However, there was something in how she said that about my family. They had stayed at the motel in order to try to put money in our pocket and get me to the internet forum and her cutting remarks were infuriating me while at the same time embarrassing me with guilt. "You have no idea what is really going on, and I don't feel like explaining this to you right now," I scratched my balls casually and belched while I stood at my truck door – subtle body language that I could not give two shits about what she thought. "I know they are uncouth, disgusting creatures who love to display their bodies and you probably haven't had a decent home cooked meal in weeks, Mr. Taylor" even her sympathy came laced with a side-order of contempt for others. I had just belched and scratched my nuts and she called my wife the uncouth one? I had to laugh aloud at that. "I don't believe this is a laughing matter, Mr. Taylor, I suppose once you've conducted another of your lawn sales, your family moving will collectively raise our property values, so I must look on the bright side." "Hey now," She made it really hard to like her on so many levels, and that actually hurt my feelings. "Oh I mean nothing by it against you personally, Mr. Taylor. I know you are a good man and you can't help that your son is slow and your daughter is as loose and corrupted as your wife. I am just saying what everyone can plainly see and I apologize if I've offended you." even her apologies were slathered in her 'holier-than-thou' sauce. "I reckon you should know something Mrs. Waxerman, since we are fixing to go and move and all," I stepped into an Alabama accent – my best imitation of my old high school coach. I had her undivided attention when I allowed a long enough pause between my words. "My wife and daughter have been lying to you, it's all been sort of a game when you come around, I figure I should come clean and let you know about white alert," I was honestly going to get in my truck and leave but the woman had a way of sucking you into a conversation with her. "A white alert? What on earth?" her dog Mr. Snips was sniffing around my feet – a metaphor for how Mrs. Waxerman was sniffing around for juicy gossip I suppose. "You see about the bras and panties, I should be honest with you, I respect you too much and admire you to continue this charade any longer," I was gravely serious and I could see the hint of a self-satisfied smile as I offered her the compliment. "My wife and daughter get off on pretending to be decent women. My wife hasn't worn panties or bras since we first got married and my daughter stopped once she was old enough to shave the hair on her crotch. They never wore bras and panties, they just liked to pretend to be a tight ass suburban mom and a straight laced virgin cheer leader because it turns them on to seem so innocent when they are secretly wicked. I know it sounds completely sick and twisted but all those times my wife was living a lie. She is really an uncontrollable nymphomaniac and I was actually fixing to go down to the motel she and Jamie are at because she insisted on staying there to whore herself out." The look on Mrs. Waxerman's face was priceless and she bought the bullshit I was selling hook, line and sinker. I had thought 'white alert' was a random color – that at best stood for a 'white lie' alert. However, once I saw all the blood drain from her face and she turned white as a sheet – I realized just how appropriate the code word had been. I was ready to get in my truck and return to the motel to sort all this stuff out. I had needed to get away and think for a bit and I am not too proud to admit I probably had left abruptly because I wanted some time on my own to think – so for the life of me, I couldn't explain why I was now so willing to fuck with Mrs. Waxerman's head before I left. "I know it is shocking and because of your advice and counsel, well I can't hide it anymore, you should know that I punish and discipline them regularly," I tried to look serious and concerned. Mrs. Waxerman's breath smelled like a day old garlic pickle and a dry fart that had been wrapped in a burrito. She had a habit of getting in uncomfortably close to my face and it was difficult for me not to let on just how disgusted I was by the crusty old woman. She nodded her head in agreement "Yes, I've been present for some of your punishments and frankly, I do not think they've done a lick of good," Waxerman had me on that point. "Well, I can't lie to you," I was straight up lying to her. "My wife and daughter get off on punishment, they basically twist my arm to give them one of your enemas, I don't like doing it because of well you know, the mess afterwards." I wasn't sure if I was laying things on too thick but from the look on her face it seemed like she was buying it. I remember back when I used to hide my porn obsession I would read dirty fantasy stories from websites like www.dijanstories.com and rppstories.com. A lot of the really bad internet fiction usually involved a sex-obsessed woman and her eighteen year old nymphette daughter who met a guy who they basically pleaded with to tie them up and fuck the shit out of them. I am sure that if I were a deeper person I'd be able to tell you why the author probably pictures himself as the guy in that story and how he feels the need to be the reluctant dominant. "Oh gosh, if you really want me to handcuff you to the chair I guess so," they would say to the two over-sexed sluts who apparently couldn't find anyone else to do this to them. "Yeah, you see they like being spanked. My daughter practically begged me to send her over to your house so you could punish her and when you weren't home, she tried to get in trouble so someone would punish her before she got home." I said stretching the truth – my daughter had begged but mostly because she thought the punishment Chris and I would give was going to be worse. I like to seem like the strong silent type but since I was bullshitting anyway, I might as well ham it up for Mrs. Waxerman's benefit. "I see," she looked like I had just squirted lemon in her eyes as she wrapped her head around my new fib. "So the other day when your wife was on blocks in the backyard?" "Yep, all her idea," I smiled and nodded. "It turns her on to make Chris and me whip her in front of someone as respectable and godly as you. You wouldn't believe what she did for the rest of the day after you left!" I left her some bait to ask for more detail which she gladly took. "Well, not that I want to hear the profane details, but just what did she do?" Waxerman was as interested as a 14 year old girl about to meet Justin Bieber - well maybe that is a little exaggeration but she was very interested. "I don't want to offend your delicate sensibilities any more than I already have, Ma'am" I was smiling and having fun with this charade now. "Nonsense, what did the little minx do after I left?" Waxerman was intent on finding out what Wendy did and I was going to oblige. "She and her naughty daughter sat right on our stair well banisters and fucked themselves until my son came home from school. Jamie has been kicked out of school as you know." "Yes, I do know very well and while I am not a gossip, there is said to be many videotapes of the young hussy with her bare chest jiggling at that half time show. I don't have to tell you how I fear for the innocence of my nephews and niece at the influence of your daughter and wife do I?" It amused me that she still thought her nephews were innocent – much less Delilah. Her boys did have a creepy sort of crew-cut and dressed like they were straight out of the Sears and Roebuck's catalog from 1955 but they were as perverted as any young boys I've ever known when I was growing up. "Since we are moving soon, I might as well come clean that my daughter and wife would sun bathe nekked out in the backyard and knew your nephews might be watching." I saw Mrs. Waxerman start to process this information in her head. I think Waxerman had given Jamie a spanking and an enema in front of them before and had to be aware they saw every part of the girls at the pool party last week – even with the skimpy bikinis they had on. I think on some level when she bared Jamie's ass to spank her, she doesn't see that as being exposed in front of them or as a necessary evil. However, I think TELLING her that they watched them sunbathing nude had a terrifying effect on a woman who liked to live in a world of denial. "You allowed them to expose themselves to my nephews!?" her mock outrage was quite convincing but I remained calm and collected knowing that it was just that. "Well not anymore Ma'am, you see they got bored with just laying out to sunbathe. They made us tie them out like dogs in the morning on leashes with Roscoe our dog and give them treats, while they wiggle their tails". I smiled at the mental image of my smiling daughter playfully embracing her role as house pet in the backyard. "And you see that as an improvement?" Mrs. Waxerman thrust a bony finger at me that would have chilled me to my core if I wasn't so delighted trying to rile her up. I had no idea where I was going with this new set of lies but it was invigorating and it got my mind off the problems at hand. "No not particularly Ma'am, it's just that well I should tell you that your niece and nephews were in my yard this morning when Jamie was uh well, I should not say," I was being coy and I thought I would explode with laughter as I played this old woman like a hand of poker. "I believe you should be straight forward with me, Mr. Taylor," she looked concerned but I made her repeat the request once more before I was going to reveal my answer. "Well Jamie couldn't entice your nephews into having sex with her, so she had sex with Roscoe in front of them in the yard. I know that sounds like blasphemy," I said. "Do you know your Leviticus, Mr. Taylor?" Mrs. Waxerman looked at me as if I were a pile of dog crap. "I am afraid I've not had a lot of educating on the bible," I was purposely trying to sound big and dumb. "Leviticus 18:23 declares 'Do not have sexual relations with an animal and defile yourself with it. A woman must not present herself to an animal to have sexual relations with it; that is a perversion.' Do you know that Mr. Taylor?" she asked me scathingly. I was actually surprised the Bible would address it at all. I had assumed that it was a new idea from all the websites and porn about it – but it's been around since before Jesus' time I guess and they had to make a rule about it. "I know, but you see, if I punish her for it, she'd just enjoy that, I am truly at my wits end on how to proceed, Ma'am" I was acting like I was handing her a problem to solve. I wouldn't take this crazy old biddies advice if it was stapled to a hundred dollar bill. I was just patronizing her and at the same time blowing off a little steam. "After the war," The way she began her remarks I was inclined to ask "Civil or Revolutionary?" like a smart ass but I just kept quiet and let her continue. "I had an Aunt in the Appalachians whose husband did not come home and after several winters, she began to fornicate with her loyal dog. We kept big great danes and blood hounds up there – every additional mouth to feed was a luxury and the dogs had to earn their keep or we had no use for them, you see." I did not see, but I nodded anyway. I was actually quite surprised and it was my turn to wonder where she was going with this. "We all knew about the shameful goings on at my Aunt's cabin, but she was lonely and probably just a tad bit touched. I had nine siblings and my brothers had been warned not to come unannounced to her cabin but I believe more than one of them learned about the birds and bees by watching her from the bushes." She seemed lost in reliving the hillbilly days of her youth. "Voluntary sex with a black man who cohabitated with you was only slightly more shameful than the sordid manner in which my Aunt lived," She seemed to be thinking about what to say. "I hope you understand that my mother prayed nightly and asked the Deacon to intervene lest our entire family name be associated with that depravity?" "Oh, I had assumed you rightly would have done that, Ma'am. It is the only Christian thing one could do, is it not?" I was just playing along and using words that I thought sounded right. "No, that was only the start of exorcising the demons that plagued my Aunt. When I saw what you were doing with your wife in the backyard the other day, I had assumed it was on the counsel of a Pastor or Deacon of your Church?" What an absurdly funny question. I hadn't been to church in years – I assumed if God had wanted me to go he wouldn't have scheduled so many football games for Sunday afternoon. That doesn't mean I didn't believe in God, I just didn't really think about it all that much. I will admit – I got a little uncomfortable I might be pissing him off to say I had consulted him or a Pastor about this and so I clammed up. "The Church confiscated her cabin and kept her chained up where she could not cast her temptations and flaunt her perversions on any but the most holy and stern of our religious leaders," She did not wait for me to answer. "That sounds kind of harsh, did they ever cure her?" I was half-smirking at the idea that Mrs. Waxerman had a lot more colorful past than I could have ever imagined. "I pleaded for mercy for her and that if she was delivered back into our family that we might care for her and hide away her shameful secret." Waxerman's eyes seemed to glaze over just a little. "Did they release her to you?" I could picture a young seventeen year old Waxerman dressed in her wild-west hillbilly puritan garb or whatever they wore up in the mountains when she was a young girl. "No," she gritted her teeth "They told me Hell is of torment. ETERNAL torment meted out for acts committed during a mortal lifetime. Torment out of all proportion to the acts committed and unrepented for. Torment meted out of beings whose seething malice transcends any mortal trespass for an eternity of debased lamentation." I have to admit that I only understood about every other word of what she had just said. "I apologize, I know you are not as simple as your son, but you are a simple man and what I am saying may be beyond your wisdom." Mrs. Waxerman's apology was her way of passing judgment on me and telling me what she thought attached to a fake apology. "I mean to say that the Church elders felt that they were doing my Aunt a service by keeping her humbled and in torment during her remaining years. She came to ask for her suffering that she receive here on Earth for if not, it would be multiplied one hundred times in the sundered domains of the abyssal hell that she was surely doomed to reside in for all eternity." Honestly, this was going way above my head. "I can see that you do not understand," She looked at me as if I were a simple child. "Your wife and daughter asking for punishment – though they may not know it, is their eternal souls way of protecting itself from a reckoning that shall be visited upon them from the afterlife." "No, I really just think it turns them on, Mrs. Waxerman" I said with a smile. "Yes, My Aunt embraced the shameful wretchedness of being chained in a dingy cell and kept naked in filth, willing to suffer any humiliation or pain that could be visited upon her. I had 100% confidence that nothing she was telling me had any application on Wendy and Jamie. I will admit though it was a turn on to picture Waxerman's Aunt naked in a cell with a metal collar and chain around her neck. In my mind, she looked like a 'MILF' with just a little grey in her hair and perfect tits and her body was covered in little bruises and scratches like Wendy after a rough fucking. It did allow me to think about why Wendy and Jamie were motivated to continue this – that had been the sixty-four thousand dollar question hadn't it? I had allowed them out of the deal in light of our losing the house and they had volunteered to stay with it. There were only a couple possibilities. It was possible they had grown comfortable with the arrangement and enjoyed it. As I gave it more thought though it was probably the more likely theory that Wendy continued out of a sense of obligation to keep a roof over our head and Jamie continued out of a sense of obligation to not let her mother do this all alone. "Didn't your Aunt ever just want a little break? A chance to catch her breath and come home to visit?" I know I was probably asking this question because I wondered why Wendy hadn't at least wanted a single day off from the training. "In no sense could she be permitted to return to our home in that condition. The work of the elders would have been entirely undone were she to have somehow taken a 'break' from the constant unabated reminder of what she had become and why she suffer. There can be no rest for the wicked, Mr. Taylor" "No rest for the wicked?" Even I knew that was from the Bible when I said it aloud it made so much sense to me. I had thought my wife was just making an excuse for us not to change course but like so many things in our marriage, she had been right about wanting the discipline to carry on. If we stopped it would be so much harder to start it up again. At first, I had thought my wife meant I would feel sorry for her or procrastinate when she had told me words to that affect but now I realize that she meant it would be hard for her and Jamie to act like whores if we didn't treat them like whores. Waxerman was flapping her gums and talking way too close in my personal space as I internalized these thoughts. "You aren't mad that my daughter had sex with Roscoe right in front of your nephews, then?" I realized that Waxerman had stopped talking and was waiting for me to respond. I hoped my question was remotely related to what she had been talking about for the last few minutes after I stopped listening. "As I said, I could hardly fault them anymore than my brothers for their natural curiosity at the seductions of a wanton slut. I am going to address it when I return home and they will feel the business end of my birch wood switch." Now I felt bad that I had gotten her nephews in trouble. "I don't want you to do all that, it was my daughter's fault." "Spare the rod and spoil the child, is that not the lesson, Mr. Taylor?" Waxerman once again quoting an old proverb that I hadn't thought about literally since I heard it as a kid. "Yes, but as I told you my two sluts love the attention and the pain from whippings," I had committed to that lie and was sticking with it. "Yes, I knew they enjoyed it," Mrs. Waxerman became stoic and aloof. My wife and daughter had been amused by the 'white alert' goofing we did on her but the times I spanked them in front of her their faces of pain seemed real enough. "One has to get up pretty early in the morning to pull the wool over MY eyes, Mr. Taylor!" Waxerman held an upraised finger to accentuate her point. "The magnitude of their suffering must be increased to a level that even they would find unpleasant for you to reach them." I half-jokingly wondered if the Bartender in that famous scene in 'The Shining' had said something to Jack Nicholson's caretaker to set him off along the same lines? "What do you have in mind?" I acted completely oblivious. "When I caught my nephew Ezekial masturbating to a shameful national geographic magazine that had a pictorial of an African tribe where the women cavort topless with the hair of the dog," She said matter of factly and without hesitation. I had only heard of hair of the dog as a cure for a hangover. I shrugged –now I was really oblivious. "It is an old mountain expression that has been passed down for generations, it means that the bite of a dog can be cured by its fur," she could see I was still perplexed so she added "The solution to a problem is sometimes more of the problem." I nodded now that I was starting to understand. "I made him stand there and masturbate in front of me to that magazine every day for three weeks," She said with a stern and crusty upper lip and an unflappable stubborn expression. "Did that work?" I was waiting for her to tell me the outcome of her solution. "Work to do what exactly?" It was Mrs. Waxerman who was oblivious now. "Cure him of masturbating?" I said as if that should have been inferred from my question. "No, he is a horny little devil who masturbates whenever he can. I suspect he is the one who has been masturbating into my shoes for weeks but I've not been able to catch him in the act!" She said surprisingly without the least bit of shame to reveal her family dirt to me. I suppose she felt she could because she had so much more on me and my family than I ever would on her or perhaps she had some kinship to me now that she knew so much about us – or thought she did. "So then why punish him if you can't change him?" I was confused as to what she expected. "I punish him because it is my role to punish him. I cannot allow him to flaunt his indecency in front of me. There are few acceptable reasons to masturbate and his own perverted pleasure is not one of them!" she was getting flustered which was fun to watch. "What is one of the acceptable reasons?" I was just curious since I had thought about rubbing one out when I was back at the house even though I could plug my wife or daughter any time I wanted – masturbating is fun, why is it wrong? "Genesis 38:9 tells us 'But Onan knew that the child would not be his; so whenever he slept with his brother's wife, he spilled his semen on the ground to keep from providing offspring for his brother.' There are times when the seed can be spilled but such as Ezekial was doing like a horny little puppy, I cannot abide. The chastisement I offer will correct him, but not change the lustful desires burning in a young man's loins." "Could he have been worked up because of my daughter and wife's cavorting around?" I offered. "That may well be, but I should not show mercy when I catch one of my own committing such a shameful act, and I would expect that no matter the circumstances, you should not turn a blind eye to the filthy acts of your wife and daughter. You must be strong – for the sake of all." I was wrong earlier when I said I would not take any of this crazy old ladies advice. After I managed to make enough of an excuse to leave and drive away I could not help but think about the very last thing she said "You must be strong – for the sake of all" I really couldn't think of any reason that as the man of the house – I should be anything else. I was not where I needed to be – I started to head to back to the poor side of town where Chris and the girls were. It occurred to me that I had left some of the bondage stuff back at the house but I would get it tomorrow when we were supposed to meet up with Vicky to let her make an offer on the stuff at the house. There were some whips, crops, paddles and cuffs that I was going to keep even if Vicky turned out to be a real kinky bitch herself and want them. I had a feeling that I was going to need them because when I got back to the motel I was going to be re-energized and ready to lay down the law. I was already thinking about new rules and expectations of the girls and honestly about those sweet pink pussies of theirs spread out before me –wet and glistening with their juices open wide for just me. I pulled into Home Depot. I had a little money in my pocket and I was going to grab some 'fuct tape' as I called it. You could get a lot of good bondage ideas just walking up and down the aisles and looking at all the rope ties and electrical clips. I didn't waste a lot of time – I went straight to the fuct tape and was heading back to my truck when I noticed another truck dropping off a bunch of day laborers. The white guy who drove the truck looked a lot like me – sunglasses and a scruffy beard. He was handing them cash money for the work they did that day. I wasn't sure how I was going to approach them – but I decided honesty was the best policy. After the other truck pulled off I hollered at them to come over. They probably thought I had another job for them and the way some of them moved I could tell they had worked hard and were exhausted. "Hey guys, you want to fuck my wife and daughter?" I could see they didn't believe me so I produced my cell phone and showed them a picture I had taken of the two of them making out on the floor one morning when I made them shave each other. One of the guys who spoke English and seemed to be the leader asked me how much without even asking if the other guys wanted in on this. I didn't want to do the math in my head for individual so I gave them a group rate "Five hundred for all of you," "That's too much senor, sorry" He shook his head and they started to evaporate in different directions. "Wait, you they'll suck your dicks good, you can fuck them up the ass too!" I found myself not being embarrassed yelling this in the parking lot of the Home Depot – it wasn't my asshole on the line anyway. The leader said a few words to the other guys and they piled into my truck without another question. Now I would love to tell you all about the first class fucking that took place when I showed up at the motel. In truth, I didn't spend a lot of time watching my wife and daughter fuck these Mexicans. I did go in towards the end and snap a few pictures of them to show future customers and to have for masturbating when I am feeling like Ezekial Waxerman, lol. I just sat outside on the steps with Chris and we watched the sun start to set as the streets began to empty of industrial traffic and neon lights start to slowly flicker to life. We'd let in one guy as another guy left and my girls would fuck all seventeen of these guys and then some. I saw two black boys and a girl flit around the motel like they were completely oblivious that the women who lived here were whores. The girl wore a pink nightshirt that was as dark as her skin was – seemed see-thru but I didn't even look at her. She had a way of making you feel weird if you stared at her. "Could you imagine growing up here?" I asked Chris. "Yeah, the boys grow up to be pimps or pushers and the girls grow up to be hustlers or whores." He sat back against the cabin and sighed. It was hard to picture those kids who were no older than the Waxerman brothers choosing to be pimps but I suppose in a few years that would seem pretty normal to them. "You know I appreciate you staying and keeping an eye on the girls," I told Chris. "I know," Chris said with a wink. I think one of the reasons him and I didn't connect as much before all this began was that I am afraid to talk about my feelings. I grew up in a generation that just didn't do that and a hearty handshake was about all you could expect from your old man. I wasn't going to continue that tradition anymore. "Listen, I won't disappear like that on you again, Son." I promised him sincerely. "I know," Chris gave me another wink and a look that said he was satisfied I wouldn't. "I love you Son," I told him and I could feel my throat crack up just a little bit at how awkward that had sounded but how necessary it had been. I hadn't said that in a long time – if ever that I could remember. "You still can't have my Bud Light, Dad" Chris joked. "Hey, I meant a Butt Light!" I added a little levity quoting a line from an old skit back when that commercial used to be popular. "I love you too, Dad" Chris said after a long silence. "I know," I winked at him with that same cocky smile he had on his face. ------- Chapter 33: Chris's Journal: A Tale of Two Blow Jobs Note to reader: This is an excerpt of Chris's journal from Wednesday approximately 8:00 pm from his perspective while he and his dad sit on the steps of the cabana. In order to increase readability, some of the dialogue exchanged was altered to appear in a 'narrative' story format. CASH EARNINGS WEDNESDAY WENDY: $385 JAMIE: $345 "I love you Son." I can't remember my dad ever sounding as proud of me as he did right then. It felt good, damned good. "You still can't have my Bud Light, Dad," I deflected with a little joke. "Hey, I meant a Butt Light!" I don't know where my dad came up with that reference but I cracked a smile out of politeness. My dad sucks at jokes but he tries. "I love you too, Dad," I decided to finally add after the silence became awkward. "I know," Dad gave me a knowing wink like I had given him moments before when he had told me he would never abandon us or leave us without direction. There was a lot that was said between us in the silences and I was learning to listen to those as much to the words we exchanged. "I love our sluts too," I added about Mom and Jamie. I hadn't been listening really but Dad was also carrying on a conversation with her while we talked about condoms and teasing her playfully through the screen door. I occasionally heard her make a "Garrbabbllll" noise as someone in their room reminded her to pay more attention to his dick than Dad's words. I was enjoying our time outside with the sun setting and a nice cool evening breeze. I know this may sound weird but it felt oddly like we were on a vacation at a campground. "Shhh, don't tell them that or your mom will make us all sing cum-by-yah and do a group hug." Dad smiled and took a sip of his Pepsi. "So you don't think we are being too rough on them? We just need them to make some money. I wasn't sure if you thought I was being too strict hitting them with a broom and all." I had beat my sister and mom's ass with a broom handle earlier and had begun to have some doubts about if I was doing it for their benefit or my own pleasure. "As far as I am concerned, I don't think we can be TOO strict with them. They asked us to keep them in line and that is what I am aim to do," Dad was very sure of himself. I asked if he had been worried about tying Mom behind the cabana the night before; anything could have happened to her. I didn't want to sound like a worry-wort but that one did have me a little concerned. "I did think about that but it's fairly quiet out here and most people are used to the whores walking around. It is a fairly quiet back alley and, honestly, they probably run more risk jumping into strange cars than anything else." Dad seemed at peace with his decision so I left it at that. After a short lull in the conversation and a couple guys walking in and out to fuck my sister, I told Dad about how we had ran into Jerry at the J-Mart and Mom had gone off on him. "I wonder what she is going to do tomorrow when Vicky is at the house and wants to buy all our furniture and bric a brac?" Dad chuckled. "Probably best if we just leave them here to work. I have a feeling it's best if she doesn't see anyone from work. I think Vicky played a big role in Mom's firing." "Yeah but Vicky said she wants to apologize though," Dad smirked. "Something tells me that she wants to just see Mom humiliated one last time and gloat a bit," I had not paid a lot of attention to my mom's discussion about work before this all began but what little I do remember was that she and Vicky were rivals and it frustrated my mom. "The customer is always right. What is the harm in her seeing Cow Tits naked and on her knees where she belongs?" Dad seemed amused at the idea. I tried to reiterate how she had gone completely ballistic on poor Jerry and Dad only laughed that 'fuct tape' and handcuffs would keep her in line. "She won't come by until later in the day tomorrow. We can give your mom the choice to meet her at our house or we can leave her here to work and bring her by after she finishes picking through our stuff and makes us an offer on it." Dad seemed sadistic but added, "Hey, we need the money. If the goofy little bitch gets off on humiliating your mom, should she be any different than anyone else?" Dad did have a point there. I told Dad about Jerry's brother and my dad took an instant dislike to Peter. "It's funny. He had the same reaction when he heard about you," I laughed. I told him how Mark the cop had shown up and basically shook us down, promising to return for two hundred dollars later. Dad was initially disturbed by this but he seemed to take the news in stride. "You see cops up and down this street all night long. They would either have to be like the replacement refs in the NFL and be too incompetent and blind to see what is going on or they are corrupt and want a piece of the action." I nodded in understanding that it was probably the latter. "You know it's interesting," I said to my father as I observed, "if you have sex for money, it's illegal but if you have sex for money on film you can distribute it everywhere as a business." "Are you trying to suggest we get your mother and Jamie into porn?" Dad looked at me with a wry grin. "Well, I am sure they would be up for it," I looked back over my shoulder into the room where they were both fucking three guys at once and shrugged. "What I found out about internet porn is that if you can think of something, no matter how weird or bizarre there is porn of it on the internet and it's free." Dad said as if he were imparting sage wisdom to me. "Yeah, it's called Rule thirty four," I told him. "Rule thirty four?" he asked. "If it exists there is porn of it," I explained. "I once saw a series of drawings about Mountain Dew having sex with a Subway sandwich." "Yeah, I am not exactly sure why you kept looking at them after the first drawing in the series but you see my point? If you can find all that for free online, it's probably not very easy to get people to buy porn." I nodded in agreement and told Dad the rest of what had happened while he was away. When I got to the part where Peter wanted to piss all over the girls' asses Dad got very intrigued. I described how I pissed down my sister's throat and the girls just took it. "It was a real lemon party!" "What is a lemon party?" He asked and then quickly shook his head that he didn't want to know. "So your sister and mom are piss drinkers now are they?" "It looks like they are," I chuckled. "They really didn't seem to mind it, other than a few disgusted faces." My dad was quiet for a while. I knew he was processing this new information about Mom and Jamie. "You know we should let these guys use them like urinals when they are done," I said thinking aloud. "Like the dirty urinals in a truck stop?" Dad smiled as if visualizing it. "Well, if they don't want to do it, they could just say no at the end right?" I offered, wondering if we were about to go too far. "They had better say no sir, and be prepared to accept the consequences for embarrassing us in front of clients. They would also have to explain why they drank midget pee but not these, right?" Dad was visibly excited by the thought of going through with it. "You sure we should make them do it?" I was starting to have second thoughts. When we had "Bill's Bill," anything that was really twisted we could suggest and they could agree to stars. They worked as a sort of a sanity check for our dares but now I wondered if we were on a slippery slope where they had to do whatever we said and we would get drunk on our own power. "This might be too much information but I am harder than a motherfucker just thinking about the girls having a line of dirty cocks pissing all over their faces," I could see Dad's bulge in his wrangler jeans. I just laughed. It was a titillating idea. "We do need to come up with new rules though," Dad said quietly after our excitement had started to fade. "If your mom doesn't have clear goals to work towards then she will get complacent." Dad was obviously thinking along similar lines as I was. "Well, we could set a monetary goal for them," I said thinking of the five hundred dollars. A guy stumbled out of the motel room past me into the parking lot. They were all waiting by the truck for their friends to finish using my mom and sister. "Nah, it has to be more than just money. That is just a simple goal, and they can get it with sour attitudes like the other whores around here." Dad was watching one of Rahjid's other girls try unsuccessfully to entice the Mexican guys by the truck; it was Doris the Puerto Rican girl with the big butt and cute lips. She reminded me of the actress Rosie Perez, very shallow and coarse in her manner while she popped her bubble gum and seemed half-interested. "Hey Poppy, you wanna? No Why Nawwttt? Oh my Gawd, don't make me angry Poppy-Chulo," I could see her fanning her freshly painted nails as she feigned interest in the guys. "Oi, my ass hurts from walking so much, you should come rub it, baby-pop." Her attempts were falling flat but it was fun to listen to her. "It's not just having a goal. It has to be something that proves they have the right attitude and earned it the right way. That is why I liked the star system. We were in control of how much to award based on the risk and the effort involved," Dad said as he contemplated a new set of rules and watched the hooker with the big-ass strut around the guys he brought like a shark looking for a free meal. "Yeah but Mom and Jamie would earn the 100 stars and then they could quit. Don't we need them to keep earning?" I reminded Dad. "I don't have any end game for where this is going, Son. That's why I was going to let them out of it. We may be homeless for a while. We may have to keep this up for at least a month or two!" Dad's facial expression was excited even if his voice sounded reluctant. I knew he was conflicted about it. I was too. "I trust you to come up with something, Dad." I smiled at him reassuringly. "As long as it is a progressive performance based assessment that offers a positive incentive for the submissive qualities and success metrics we establish which reflect attainable stretch goals and a performance appraisal that allows for corrective measures and consequences for controllable failures to let them know if they have been effective in their role through measurable key indicators." Dad did a double take at the corporate speak I had just spit out. "I remember Mom explaining it to me when she had to set up a pay-for-performance plan at her job." I smiled, adding, "See? I listen sometimes even when people think I don't." "I know you do, Son," He patted me on the back and stood up, adjusting his pants and tucking his bulge back in. I am not creeped out about seeing my dad's cock. We've been through so much together that it feels as normal as seeing my sister's spread pussy now. (Should that ever feel normal?) Dad went and talked with the guys that were waiting for the final ones inside to finish and then came back to where I was standing. "It's on" is all he said. We were going to give the girls an impromptu inspection and I followed him inside. I had suspicions what my dad had asked the guys but I kept it to myself and just followed along like I knew the plan already. I sauntered in "Wow, you two cum-pigs are really having fun in here, huh?" The girls were too busy fucking and sucking to give me a proper answer. That was okay with me. I walked behind my sister and looked at that meaty pink blossom between her legs as she serviced cock after cock. "That pussy is really busted, Sis," I said but what I really wanted to do was get down on my knees then kiss and lick it. She has a porn star pussy, the kind that just reminds you of a peach and you want to take a bite out of it. God really blessed her with all the right genetics. I moved the two guys that were blocking my view so I could have a longer and uninterrupted view of it. I didn't even think twice about interrupting them; I am, after all, "the pimp" in this arrangement. I jabbed one finger up her delicate asshole and felt around then sniffed it. "Smells like parmesan cheese to me," I dragged my finger across my sister's upper lip to give her a 'dirty sanchez.' I didn't actually leave a poop mustache but I LOVED the fact that she just kept sucking dick with her bright blue eyes wide open while I did it, accepting my authority. "You want a dirty Sanchez too, don't you, Mom?" She couldn't answer with six inches of Mexican cock burrito being rammed down her throat. I rammed my thumb up her ass and rotated it before giving the hole back to the next Mexican guy to fuck. I drug my thumb right under my mother's nose and on her upper lip while she coated a guy's dick in her spit. I loved how she didn't stop throating him to even look up at me; it was like she expected this. They looked totally and well fucked. A fine sheen of sweaty lather coated my mom's body. They were both decorated with welts, bruises and hand marks all over their freshly fucked bodies and their hair was a mess – it was heaven. They seemed stuck in one position so I took the time to give them an 'epic' fucking position I had seen in a.gif animation once where three black guys triple-teamed a girl in a "T-bone" position. It was fucking hilarious. Mom wiggled her ass like a puppy dog invitingly while continuing to suck on cock. I couldn't help how hard I was at how shameless they were both being about this. I guess it would have done them no good anyway and they were both such over-achievers it was working out to my advantage! "Master, you can send in one more." Mom's lips were engaged in pulling off a spent condom as soon as she asked Dad. "Sorry, you fucked them all, whore." Dad was just as amused as I was by this scene. "You know what that means, right?" "Um, that you love me, Master?" Mom had as much clue as I did what it meant. I assumed it meant more fucking. "It's time to water the pigs, you earned it!" I wasn't sure what Dad meant by that, but they did look like they were thirsty and tired. Jamie kept looking at the big pile of condoms that had collected with what I might have called awe that she took so many dicks. "I am sorry Master. Are you mad about something?" Mom tried to wipe the cum around her face and eyes but only managed to smear it into her mascara. "No, I like you just how you are, groveling and rolling around in cum," Dad could be playful but sometimes it was hard for me to read him. His tone of voice was saying that he was disgusted by them but his words said he loved it. "You two get in the bathroom and kneel with your butts on your heels and your backs to the wall. Hold your mouths open and wait," Dad barked and the girls sprung into action, Jamie sprinting and Mom weeble-wobbling her bowed out legs behind. We let the girls get into position and fist bumped before walking in. It was always good to give them a moment to prep themselves and then leisurely walk in while making them wait. It established that we set the pace. The bathroom was disgusting and stinky. The tile floor had probably never been washed. The girls lost their cheap high heels and, other than a collar, were completely naked. They were tired and Mom was slouching as she recovered from all the fucking and sucking they had just done. I almost felt a little sorry for her. They kept their legs apart just like their mouths so we could see their overworked but pretty pussies. Jamie had her shoulders back and her chin up ready for the next humiliation to present itself. They were both pivoting on the balls of their feet. Dad had one of the sharpie markers we bought at J-mart. "Hold those knockers as far apart as you can," he ordered and they both pulled their tits apart. I grinned when I saw that picture perfect Jamie was starting to get nervous. Her leg was nervously shaking back and forth. Dad wrote 'Urinal' dead center between Mom's melons with an arrow going up to her face. I smiled. This was getting interesting. "Are you punishing us, Master?" Mom could see and feel what he was writing and she looked a little scared but kept her mouth wide open after she finished speaking like a good little slut. "No, I think you know the purpose of a slut's mouth by now, don't you, Cow-Tits?" Dad came across commanding and awesome, like Darth Vader but without the black robes. "To suck and swallow, Master." We had taught them that in countless affirmations. "Can I do Jamie's chest?" I had a few ideas and I regretted that I had slipped and called her 'Jamie.' I was trying to sound bad-ass like Dad. "Why would you ask me? We are partners, aren't we? Knock yourself out, Son." Dad slapped me on the back with pride and gave the girls a dirty look. My Spanish isn't so great. I think 'Servicio de 24 horas' means 24 hour service in any hole. Well, I don't know how to say 'any hole' but I am sort of implying it here. I am lucky to be getting a C+ in that class, okay? Don't judge, lol. "See, I paid attention in Spanish class," I laughed. I was having fun. 'aseo público' which means public toilet right under that, that's evil right? I pulled out some of those old toy handcuffs we bought at the dollar store. They are metal and, aside from being fairly cheap, actually work very well. I can only imagine in the 1960s or whenever these things were sold in regular stores what kind of twisted games kids played with these damned things. If you jam the safety lever and knock it off, it's really tough to get off. You could unlock them if you have the key or any screwdriver but Dad had shown me how to cuff the girls so they would have a tough time unlocking them with the key hole facing away from their fingers. As much as I love them holding their tits apart I made them clasp hands behind their backs and cuffed them. I didn't want them squirming away if Dad was going to do what I thought he was going to do. I wrote 'un huelepedos mamacita' on my sister's rock hard chiseled abs and then gave it a nice hard slap turning it pink. I think it meant either a 'Brown nosing mommy' or a fart-smelling mommy; either way it was probably true. I am glad she was such a goody-two shoes when it came to complying with the rules. Her eagerness and positivity was finally turning me on. I wasn't going to forgot dear old Mom! I wrote 'La leche' and drew an arrow to her nipple. I guess it was to point out how milky they got. Then I wrote 'una huila madre' – One whorish mother! You might think I was fairly fluent in Spanish but in reality I had spent the first six months of class in the back with a guy who actually spoke Spanish and he taught me all the really good cuss words and insults. "How does it feel to be urinals?" Dad was pacing back and forth watching with growing excitement. "If this will get us closer to the Internet User's forum group for you, it feels like the right thing to do, Master." Wow, had Mom really just agreed to this hook, line and sinker? I hadn't seen the Mexican guys piling in to watch me finish writing on my mom until I felt a shot of yellow whizz go flying right past my arm and hit my sister on the face, catching her right in the eye. I stepped out of the line of fire and let the first three Mexican guys unload on their tits, faces and stomachs and piss all over them. You know how after you finish cumming and five minutes later you have to piss for about five minutes? Well multiply that by seventeen Mexicans. That's how much streaming piss went across their shoulders, in their hair and dripped onto the wall behind them and down to the dirty tile under their feet. The Mexican guys seemed to think this was pretty funny and not one of them questioned why they were doing it. They were told they could and, apparently, that was more than enough motivation to drench my sister and mom in their acrid urine. I grabbed up my cell phone to make a note to myself to journal all this later and snatch some video to show Peter later if I saw him again. He would love this shit! "Open those mouths, urinals!" Dad was not satisfied with just covering them in piss. "Wider!" The girls deliberately opened their mouths extra wide and the piss flew on their tongues and into their mouths. Jamie squinted like lemon juice was being squirted in her eye but she took every drop the Mexican fire hoses could deliver without a complaint. If I didn't know better I would say Mom's wide-open mouth was curled on the ends into a half-smile. I know she is a deeper thinker than me. I wondered what was going on in that brain of hers. Mom took it just like I did and after the fourth or fifth guy were getting fairly used to being soaked with piss. I could even see a faint smile on my mom's face as she held her mouth open politely to await the next man in line. "Sis, urine so much trouble!" I made a goofy face at my sister as I teased her. I wanted to see if I could make her laugh and fall on her ass in the puddle of piss that was growing around her cute little toes. I almost got the tight ass to laugh but she remained tits out, shoulders back and mouth wide open for service but those angel blue eyes and blonde hair with that sweet face and button nose. Damn, it was so sexy to watch her be so nasty. I couldn't hold back any more and I unzipped when the last Mexican guy finished up. "You make a pretty good toilet rim, stay like that." I couldn't decide who I liked pissing on more. Mom was the quintessential MILF with an allover body tan and frosted tips while my sister was the all American girl next door. I couldn't choose so I pissed on them both. "Not a bad idea, son. We don't want to be accused of not giving a piss about the girls, do we?" Dad made me laugh and started pissing back and forth between the two just like me. We made a game of hitting the bull's-eye right on the center of their tongue but neither of us said a word about our little contest to each other; we just knew we were playing it. "Don't cross the streams - Ghostbuster style." I was picturing myself in the final scene of Ghostbusters as Doctor Egon Spengler to Dad as Billy Murray's character Doctor Venkman. I think he even got that movie reference and chuckled as we sprinkled our piss across the girls' face and hair. I wanted to do this every time I had to take a piss; it was that much fun! "What should we do with them now?" I was wondering about how practical it would be to clean them up every time I had to take a whiz. "You girls hungry?" Dad smiled and I almost thought that sadistic bastard was going to make them open up and swallow his chocolate turds. He let them think that too but then he leaned in close to my mom's open mouth with "Good Girls, open up!" he hocked a huge loogie down her throat. I was at the same time disgusted and turned on. I literally had a disgusted boner. It was actually kind of cool, sort of like when you get horny when you see a slasher film and the hot cheerleader gets her head cut off but her tits are still out. Hey, you know you got turned on by something you shouldn't have! Lol. "That should taste pretty good compared to that Mexican cum you two have been gargling on for the last half hour," Dad teased Mom while she held the white gob of spit out on her tongue for us to watch. "Oh that's right, you dumb bitches have to be told when you can swallow. Okay leave your mouth open. I want to watch it slide down." There was a split second where I saw a face I had seen on my mom before this all began, one where I thought she was going to call him out, stand up and asked to be uncuffed. It was just a split second before it faded and she remained obedient and humbled. I doubt Dad noticed because he would have probably said something about it. "I am fresh out of snot, Son. Do you think you could feed your hungry sister so we can get these two cunts out on the streets?" he asked. I replied "With Pleasure, Dad". This was going to be fun. I spit a long wad of spit into my sister's perfect mouth past her perfect straight teeth and onto the pink of her perfect little tongue. God damn she is perfect. So pert and perky, even after getting fucked seven ways to Sunday, that she still looks good enough to eat out. Even if she wasn't 'Girl's Gone Wild' hot, I think the fact she barely even shuddered when I made a horking sound, put one finger against a nostril and spit a wad of my snot directly into her throat probably adds a whole new layer of my profound respect for her ability to endure this treatment. Just for good measure, I lit off a burp into my sister's mouth and surprisingly felt the tip of her tongue brush against my lips to return my kiss. She keeps doing things like that and I am going to have a hard time letting her stop playing sex-slave for me. I noticed she made a sour face when the after-taste of my burp finally wafted across her taste buds, but it only made my boner harder. Seeing her struggle to keep her tongue out while my snot dripped down her tongue was like a pillless form of Viagra. If the boner lasts for longer than four hours – see a doctor. I sometimes wonder what the doctor would say. "Well, have you tried jerking off?" "No, doc, does that take care of boners?" says the hapless idiot on Viagra who has no idea how dicks work. Who gets to make an appointment with a doctor in four hours anyway? I can picture that idiot calling the doctor's receptionist. "Yeah it's an emergency. I need to see the doctor. I've got a really weird boner that's lasted four hours." She'd look surprised and say her glasses would slide down her nose as she answers, "Well, do you think it will last for 3 weeks? Because that's when the next appointment is..." I was lost in my own fantasy comedy routine and didn't even hear Dad teasing the girls about sucking our dicks. "We are your obedient cock-suckers Master. If you want us to suck your dicks, just give the order. I'd take it out, but my hands are cuffed behind my back, Sir." My ears perked up when I heard my mom admit this out loud like the dutiful cock-slut she now was. "Yes you are, but you two seemed to prioritize walking the streets, so I thought I'd ask," Dad sounded sarcastic and cruel so I knew there was something going on between them. I am no Doctor Phil but there is a part of him that loves this and a part I think that is a little jealous that his wife seems to love this. Does that make sense? "I will unzip it for you then, lazy bitch." Dad whipped out his cock and shoved it in Mom's throat as he pulled the back of her head down on it. "Do I need to use a condom like the others?" Mom didn't answer as he throat fucked her right in front of us but it was obvious she was willing to suck with or without one. I asked Jamie if she was ready. She looked at me with those beautiful sparkling blue eyes of hers and opened her mouth to answer. I took the liberty of stuffing my cock down her throat before she could speak. "You better ALWAYS be ready to suck my whopper anytime, anyplace, anyway I say!" I grabbed her hair and shoved the back of her head down on my dick. I will admit she didn't gag but she did make a satisfying 'Hurk' noise when her tonsils washed over the tip of my cock on the back of her throat and it was bliss. I like to look at Jamie's face when she sucks me off. There is something so satisfying about seeing her pump her mouth on my cock as if she has been poisoned and cum is the only antidote in the world. It must be how it feels to see a woman beating your shirt against a rock out in the stream, very primal. If I stare too long at that slightly turned up nose and her cheerleader face I will cum right away. Since I am in no hurry to cum and want to prolong the dick sucking for as long as I can, my mind tends to wander. I think about Star Wars, World of Warcraft, homework assignments, things that won't kill my boner, but they won't make me spooge sooner than I want too. I don't know how Dad holds out for as long as I do. Maybe he is just old and that is how old guys do it. We have reached the point we can get off in front of each other but I don't think we've reached the point we can talk about some of the things we think about when we do. I want to say that I thought about what life would be like if the girls were our slaves forever. That thought crossed my mind but it lasted all of a second as I enjoyed the gentle nibbling on the tip of my dick by my handcuffed sister while I stroked her hair gently and then pulled it hard at random, teasing her with my sadism. I did have one wicked fantasy that I can't help having. I probably shouldn't write it down or who knows, maybe it will come true? I think it goes back to when Mom was the boss of Dad and I. She made us cum in mason jars in front of her. She didn't let me take my time. She stood right there with her hands on her hips and made us jack off quickly and efficiently then she took the mason jar away and left us both standing there completely embarrassed. I remember my cheeks would be flush with blood and I would be shaking a little as I stood naked in my own living room with a cord tied around my nuts. I thought about a scenario where I was married to a beautiful woman. Maybe it was Delilah or Cathy Griffin. In my dreams I can never see her face. She is mad about something I did so she puts a dog collar around my neck when I am sleeping. When I wake up, I am outside in the yard by a bowl of dog food. She tells me, "You've acted like a dog. Now you are going to eat like one." Oh gawd, about that time I spunked my entire fucking load into my sister's mouth. God damn it, what happened to holding out as long as I could? I wonder why now that I hold all the cards with the girls in the house, my mind thinks fondly about the days when Dad and I were forced to exercise and pad around the house naked. I guess because it is safely fantasy and behind me now. "Hold that mouth open so Dad can see you are a better cock sucker than Mom. You satisfied me faster!" I said which made Jamie beam a little with pride and Dad thrust his dick harder into Mom's face to finish himself off. He made the "O" face and I kept quiet while he spasmed. It looked like his toes were even curling up in his tennis shoes as he finished cumming into my mom's mouth. "Slow, but good. You are a good cock sucker," Dad panted as he pulled his flaccid dick out. My mom held her mouth open to display Dad's cum, and did not flinch when Dad wiped his cock off in her hair like she was a living cum rag. He just grinned evilly down at her and smiled. "You want to swallow that cum or spit into a condom for Rahjid?" "It's actually for his niece, but I will do whatever you say Sir." Mom answered obediently with her tongue still out. She was getting good at talking around gags and I could understand everything she said. "I KNOW you will do whatever I say you dumb bitch, that's a given. What I want to know is what you would prefer to do?" "I guess give it to his niece, Master?" Wendy answered with more of a question than a statement. I would have fucked with her some because I still remember her harping on how I did that when she was in charge of the house. However, I had just cum and didn't really care one way or the other since I was still high on my own orgasm. Dad let the two of them spit into a condom that he had opened. They were still covered with cum, sweat and piss. "You sluts stink! Get your asses outside, now!" he ordered. "But we are naked, Sir?" Jamie indicated the handcuffs behind her back. "Really? I hadn't noticed, you fucking skank. Do you think anyone outside hasn't seen your giant ass and little tits flopping around the parking lot by now?" Dad amped up his rage but I knew it was all for show to establish he was the boss. They simultaneously got up off their knees somewhat awkwardly, due to their hands still cuffed behind them, and scurried outside the cabana. I could see them both look around as I held the screen door open with a big grin on my face. The sun had already begun to set and it was getting dark. The neon lights of the motel had yet to buzz and flicker on, but there was enough visibility someone might have seen them had they been looking. I hustled them around the back of the cabana with Dad shouting, "Hup One Two, Hup Three Four, Hup One Two" and they high stepped their asses diligently behind the cabana. "I am going to go grab a bite to eat. You don't mind washing up these bitches?" Dad asked me. "Nah, grab me something to eat too though?" I replied with a delighted smirk. "Girls, don't just stand there. Thank your Trainer for cleaning you off." "Thank you Sir!" they both answered with uncanny synchronicity. I answered by using my thumb to force out a spray from the garden hose I had already turned on and sprayed them all over their bodies. I joked a "Hose for Ho's" and Dad laughed and nodded as he walked to his truck. I had to uncuff them in order for them to raise their arms up so I could spray them front and back. I noticed some black kids off to the side giggling and commenting but I just sprayed the hose playfully in their direction and heard the girl in the bunch shriek, "He so nasty!!" as they evaporated back into the darkness. It was relatively private back behind the cabanas. There was a row of even worse looking cabanas that it was obvious people lived in. They didn't have the glossy but cheap paint job over the cracked wood of the units out in front that were for short term rental and fucking. When I was satisfied I had gotten all the piss and cum off, I ordered them into position two; bent over, holding their ass cheeks apart. I couldn't resist having a little fun at Mom's expense. That's just the way I roll, I guess. I suddenly shoved the end of the hose into her turd-cutter and held it there. Naturally, she gasped, and took a step forward. "Back in position, cunt, or I will leave this up your shithole until it comes spraying out your mouth!" I growled. She quickly resumed her original position. By now, the water had filled her up pretty good and was starting to leak out around the hose. I pulled it out of her ass and figured I might as well get both holes cleaned out. I shoved it up her cunt and got another gasp out of her. She fell forward and landed on her hands and knees. I knew I had to maintain discipline so I gave her a hard smack on her well rounded ass. "Did I give you permission to break position, cunt?" I asked. "No sir, sorry, sir, it's just that I wasn't expecting..." "YOUR JOB IS TO OBEY, PURE AND SIMPLE, NOT TO ANTICIPATE! DO - I - MAKE - MYSELF - CLEAR?" I shouted at her, smacking her ass at each word for punctuation. "Yes, Master," she replied. "You will resume position two and hold that water in your ass until further notice. Is that clear, slut?" "Yes, Master," she said as she hurriedly got back in position. Then I looked at Jamie, who had been trying to maintain position two, but kept glancing over at her slut mother when she thought I wasn't looking. "Do you have something to say, slut?" I asked. This was all for show and I wondered how much they thought I was really angry and how much they knew this was the game we had all agreed to play, master and slave. "No sir, I was just waiting my turn," she answered. If she thought it was a game and I wasn't serious, she was doing a good job of not letting me know. I let her stew like that for a few minutes in anticipation of her garden hose enema. Meanwhile, I looked around at the garbage and junk that invariably ends up behind shitty little motels like this. I spotted an old length of garden hose that was broken at the ends and was about 10 feet long. Suddenly, I had a great idea! I grabbed the broken hose and took out my pocketknife and cut each end off square, ending up with a finished length of about 5 feet long. "Down on all fours, cunt" I ordered Jamie. I moved Cow-Tits around until she was standing behind Jamie's feet, facing away from her, still in position two. "We're gonna go green tonight!" I said. "We're not gonna waste good water on two sluts when we can recycle!" I am not political at all. I couldn't really give two shits about any of that but I know Mom and Jamie are 'save the earth' types and I thought it would be fun to have a little joke about that. Jamie grunted as I shoved one end of the hose up inside her asshole. Once it was in far enough to stay in place, I took the other end and shoved it up Cow-Tit's ass. I could tell from the sound that the water was travelling down the hose and into Ass-Face's ass. Once the water flow tapered off and stopped, I had them change positions, Mom on all fours and Jamie in position two. Once again, I could hear the water enema flowing as it went into Cow-Tit's ass. After a few repeats, it started to bore me. I am sure it was awful for the two of them as they pictured the brown chocolate milk flowing from one puckered asshole into the other, if that is what my little science experiment was managing to do or not. I had them both squat in the grass for a minute before simultaneously yanking the hose out of both their assholes. Most of the water had drained into the 5-foot hose so very little came out of their asses, unfortunately. It would have been cool to see a double blowout of their turd water as it exploded into the yard. I felt like Dexter and my sister was Dee-Dee in one of my grand experiments. I laughed and exclaimed, "Well that was fairly disappointing," at the anti-climatic way a few squirts dripped out of their asses. I was shocked to see the apologetic look on both of their faces as if they had let me down and knew what my tone sounded disappointed. They had both dried off pretty much but I decided I wanted to have a little fun with my sister. So I ordered Cow-Tits to the squat position, ass a few inches off her heels, hands cupping her tits. I knew she would stay like that until I ordered otherwise no matter what happened. It was such a good feeling to be the king. I had to snap a little video to share with my buddy Peter. I had a feeling he would have enjoyed all of this twisted shit; I certainly was. "Okay, squat down and waddle your ass over to me like a duck, Ass Face! Keep your hands behind your back," I ordered my sister and she did as she was told. "If you make me cum before Dad gets back, there could be a burger in your future..." I said, providing a little motivation. "Of course, if you fail due to your laziness, we could always get the jumper cables out of Dad's truck and hook up your nips to the battery and see if we can give you a jump start," I threatened. She visibly shivered at that suggestion, knowing that I'd be crazy enough to try it. How much of that was the game and how much was serious? I smiled because even I didn't know. I know, I just blew my wad in Ass-Face's mouth about a half-hour ago but what can I say? I'm a horny teenager! "Sir, could you please take your cock out as my hands have to remain behind me?" My little cum-slut asked in her sweet and innocent manner, making my boner pop harder without even touching it. "Yes they do, because you are my little bitch, aren't you?" I asked her. "Yes Master, I am." My sister sighed a little. There was acceptance in the sigh but at the same time there was the subtle hint of exasperation. It was music to my ears. That is how I like my women. "Why should I do all the work? Isn't that what slaves are for?" I teased. "Your time is getting shorter, I would get moving if I were you," I said pointing to my zipped crotch for her to open. My sister has developed amazing tongue control in the last few weeks but even she could not work the button fly on my jeans. "I'm sorry Master, but I can't get your jeans open!" I figured that she wouldn't be able to; I just enjoyed seeing her try. "OK, you lazy cunt, I'll help with the button, but the zipper's all yours!" I told her. After I undid the button, Jamie dove for the zipper handle and grabbed it with her teeth. It took a couple of tries but she finally managed to drag the zipper down. By this time, my cock was back to full throbbing oversized boner. I watched my sister desperately trying to get to at it like a Zombie trying to get brains. Well maybe more like when we were little and she used to play operation and try to get the funny bone out without setting off the buzzer. I had to laugh out loud at the thought of 'funny bone.' What exactly was that supposed to be if not the dong? Lol. She had managed to get the zipper and was tugging at the underwear to reveal my dick to her. At this point, I grudgingly helped her by pulling them down far enough to let my cock spring free and out the zipper hole while my mom watched us in the dark alleyway. "Keep watching Cow tits. This is how to suck a dick" I sniffed at her with a laugh. Jamie plunged down onto my cock with enthusiasm; whether she was driven by the prospect of a "real" meal, or the threat of punishment, I wasn't sure, and didn't really care. I just stood there and closed my eyes, enjoying her frantic efforts. She ran her sweet tongue along the underside of my cock, making me groan. "Them girls is nasty" I heard that little black girl say from somewhere behind me. I wanted to yell 'Get the fuck out of here' but the other two kids with her where obviously giggling and would have just scurried back once I scared them off. I don't know where I went while I got my dick sucked the second time. I could have recalled exactly the wicked scenario from the first time but the second was more like a streaming random collection of horny images and thoughts that defy any sort of coherent explanation until I blew my load. I kept my hands off Jamie's head and made her do all the work this time and she did a great job. I kept her on my bone until she finished getting every last drop before I told her to stop. My eyes flickered open to see Dad standing there holding a bag of fast food with a smile in the darkness. "Enjoying the show?" I asked and he laughed. "Yeah, but I thought by now you'd have them cleaned up and ready to start whoring. How did these two convince you to let them lollygag back here?" He was joking. He knew exactly what had happened. I hadn't realized it had taken so long for me to cum the second time that he could get to a drive through and back. I ordered her to stay put and took a cheeseburger from the bag. I carefully unwrapped it then walked behind Mom and opened the bun so that I could wipe the warm part of that yellow cheese up her ass crack. "A little condom mint for you," I smiled as I slammed the bun back on the burger and walked over to my sister. My sister did not flinch. She remained in position on her knees in the dirt with her tongue out. I opened the bun again and told her to drizzle a little 'special sauce' and thought about taking a bite myself just for a laugh. I thought better of it as I held it out for her to see. "Permission to eat, sir?" Jamie asked as sweetly as possible, trying not to show any disappointment or maybe that is just how she is wired. I can never tell but she is difficult to gross out, that is for sure. "Permission granted, slut!" I answered. She opened her mouth to take a delicate bite while I held it in front of her like a prize. I was not having any of her polite, perfect little chews. I shoved as much of it in her mouth as I could. "We have to hurry and I've seen you swallow dicks bigger than this cheeseburger in one swallow," I laughed as she choked on the food as it mushed around her pretty face. With her mouth still full, she knew she was being gagged with the sandwich so she just let it happen with a murmur. "I guess Ass-Face isn't that hungry after all," I remarked. "Cow-tits, you may lick the rest of her face." I laughed as I ordered my mom over to Jamie. "And eat whatever falls on the ground, don't forget. We can't waste good food on whores like you often." Dad was laughing too. It was going to be a damned good night. ------- Chapter 34: Wendy's Journal: Is it wrong I want subtitles on my porn? ****Note to reader: This is an excerpt of Wendy's journal from Wednesday approximately 8:30 pm from her perspective shortly after watching her daughter suck her son's dick behind a motel. In order to increase readability, some of the dialogue exchanged was altered to appear in a 'narrative' story format. CASH EARNINGS WEDNESDAY WENDY: $385 JAMIE: $345 I don't want to call it 'jealousy' because that is not the right word. I know jealous people never admit it but I really have no problem with Chris getting his dick sucked and catered too – even worshipped by anyone. I would say the feeling I was having while I watched my daughter on her knees as she sucked Chris's cock was almost a question of fairness in my mind. She had just sucked him off in the cabana and rather than balance out things and have me do it the second time he was ready – he had her do it again. I know that sounds like jealousy but I think it's just that I've been all about splitting this equally and I am probably nitpicking a little to even think about it- instead of accepting it as the right of my 'master' to decide which of us will serve him. It is still a little surreal to see Chris as my 'master' but that is what he has been for the last few weeks and I've needed him and his father to remind me that they both are still in charge to keep me from panicking and questioning what we are doing out here at this motel. I will also be very honest – I think there is a humiliation to being ignored that goes without mention. I saw my daughter naked on her knees in the dirt behind the motel sucking Chris off and he was stroking her hair and then pulling it hard with all his attention on her. Meanwhile - I stood there in position like chopped liver –totally naked with myself completely on display in the dark little alleyway but no one saw or paid attention. It might sound like vanity but futilely standing there like some off-stage extra in a porn video that doesn't have a part in the scene was frustrating and at the same time it was intensely humiliating. I can't quite explain it, but it was the same feeling I had the other night when I stood with my feet spread and planted on the two chairs in our living room and the guys walked around with our neighbor as if I didn't exist and I was background decoration. I have pretty much shed all self-respect and dignity in the last few weeks I used to have – but I think there is something even MORE humiliating about the fact that while I stood there like an invisible voyeur watching in the shadows my nipples grew intensely hard and my pussy got wet. I even had thoughts about admitting I had become turned on so that my son would punish me for being aroused by my treatment – but I was too embarrassed to admit it without being asked and I felt a little guilty – like maybe I was being a glutton for punishment. When he finished cumming in Jamie's mouth he had this look of exultant joy on his face like he had just reached nirvana anyway. He hustled us back inside the cabana and allowed us to get dressed with some clothes he had bought at J-mart. There had been no shortage of slutty clothes for sale on the racks – in this area of town, that was what a lot of people wore as every day apparel – even the non-working girls. Chris had made sure to find the skimpiest and sheerest outfits out of the leopard print stretchy pants and tube tops. He chose a denim "Dora the Explora" mini-skirt for his sister that was obviously made for a thirteen year old. I say "Explora" because it was an off-brand made by some country with a pink outfit and brown face of the popular children's show icon sewn onto the side of the skirt – a cheap knockoff. Jamie is thin but even she had a tough time hiking it up around her waist and snapping it closed – on her it was a micro-mini-skirt and left her ass cheeks exposed. He had her wear some impossible to buckle purple high heeled pumps but the centerpiece to tonight's outfit was a half-top white t-shirt that said "I (Heart symbol) Black Cock" on the front of it. You might be shocked that a retail store would sell a shirt with that on it – but there had been a whole row of them. Which is why Chris had bought me one to match and had me put it on. "Oh thank you Sir" I joked as I wiggled into the half-shirt. "Do I detect sarcasm, slut? Are you not pleased with the NEW clothes your owners have sought fit to permit you to wear while you earn your keep for us?" Chris flinched his arm at me as if to smack me. I stood ready for him to slap me and replied seriously "Oh I am so sorry Master if I came across as insincere, I love the shirt, thank you SO much". I tried to sound deeply indebted to him for his generosity – such as it was. "Why do you love it?" Chris asked probing me to elaborate. "Well, because I love big black cock, naturally". There was something about how I said that so seriously that made Jamie and him crack up with laughter. I smiled and stood there bottomless waiting to see what outfit he had picked out for me. "Oh how the mighty have fallen," Bill sauntered into the cabin. He had been standing out in the night air while we got our makeup and outfits back in place. "You used to shop at Pier one and Bed Bath and Beyond. You would never set foot in anything less than a Target, much less a Wal-Mart or a K-Mart to spend our money. Now you have to have all your shopping at an imitation K-mart in the ghetto, how does that make you feel slut?" "Like getting out and working, so that I can earn us more money, Sir?" I put my hands on my bare-hips as I gave him a wink. I knew this was all part of his establishing dominance and I was fine with it. I thought I could kid with him. He slapped me hard across the face. "You think this is a joke, you cunt?" "No Master, I am sorry if I..." he didn't let me finish, he slapped me hard on the opposite side of my face forcing me to look in the opposite direction. "You think I am being too rough? What if you get out there tonight and someone rapes you?" I was now unsure Bill wasn't just giving me affirmations to prep me to walk the street. "You cannot rape the willing, Sir." I turned to look at him with love in my eyes- no anger for being struck. "What if someone is beating you?" Bill sounded more concerned than angry when he heard my response. "Then I will ask them if they want advanced lessons on delivering exquisite pain from my husband and son, because no one can beat me like you two can," I replied sincerely. I know that people could have knives and guns out there but the other girls had told me that things like that almost never happened. A rapist was more interested in kidnapping an innocent girl and stood a better chance of being grabbed than we did. The most that was likely to happen is getting stiffed on payment or roughed up some. Bill grabbed my nipples through the shirt and twisted hard. "You like being hurt, you sick bitch?" "No Sir, but I accept it as..."I was about to deliver a good affirmation response when he cupped my twat and diddled me with his finger – catching me off guard. He held it up and waved it under my nose "I think you get turned on by the adrenalin surge and the attention. The tuna fish smell on my finger tells the truth the lies coming from your mouth does not!" I opened my mouth but said nothing in response. He looked at me curiously and I replied "I was waiting for you to permit me to clean my cunt juice off your finger, Sir". He looked at me appraisingly for a long minute and then with eyes narrowed replied only "Good. You are ready." I said nothing – only opened my mouth wide and this time he obliged by inserting his juicy finger for me to lick off. "You two get on your hands and knees, don't use your fingers to pick them up – just your big, dick sucking mouths. You are to take those crusty condoms to Rahjid and two hundred dollars. You will be pleasing and considerate to your other Master, is that understood?" Jamie and I both replied "Yes Sir" in unison but neither of them commented on how creepy it is we can answer with perfect timing as they usually did. I got on all fours and looked up "May I have bottoms before I leave Sir?" "No you may not; it is just a walk across the parking lot. You don't think anyone in this motel hasn't seen that big fat ass of yours yet have you?" "You are right about that Sir, I don't think anyone could have missed THIS ass" I wiggled it for him on all fours playfully – to let him know I wasn't being hurt by his barbs even though some of them stung. I would not say I have 'OCD' but I could probably be called a perfectionist. When I was a project manager at work I used to agonize over every one of equal position on a team, having an equal distribution of the work. I would do careful analysis to make sure everyone was carrying the same load and shift things accordingly. I think there is something in my brain that fires off a red flare if I detect an unbalance like I did with Jamie sucking Chris's cock twice. Now I was being expected to cross the parking lot (admittedly I had done it many times in the dark) without bottoms but Jamie got to wear hers? I was probably being silly- I said nothing about it. The tight skirt she had on was humiliating and probably cutting off her circulation around her waist a little. "You are lucky I let you cover those fake milk jugs of yours, since when do you deserve any dignity or privacy? Now gobble those used condoms – that's it, fill your entire mouth" he egged us on to try to cram as many of the cummy, latex condoms into our mouth as we could. He made us keep at it until we had almost ten each in our mouths. Then he had us look up and 'smile' so he could take a picture of us with them hanging out of our mouth on his cell phone. I had noticed him texting furiously earlier – I wondered if he kept a journal like me? That doesn't seem like Bill. "If you are happy and you know it, smack your mom's ass" Chris paddled my ass cheeks with the palms of hands like he was playing the bongos as he sang the words with intense humor. He flicked the crystal on my 'passport' butt plug between my ass cheeks and added "Tonight, neither of you are allowed to touch the butt plug with your hands. You must ask the trick to take it out if he wants to fuck your ass, and put it back in when you are done. If he doesn't, then you will bring it home in your mouth or shoved up your twat if that is where he puts it, got it?" "Yes Sir", I had asked them to suspend the prior formal rules until we got through the financial crises we were in – but I hadn't expected them to create new ones. "Your mom needs consequences for her misbehavior. She needs targets and goals to meet our expectations and she needs to know what exceeds our expectations so she can be rewarded appropriately, Chris" Bill explained in one sentence the basis of our pay for performance plan at work. That is somewhat surprising since in the years I was a Senior Vice President I had never managed to get it down to under a single power point slide to save my life. There was so much to establishing benchmarks and achievable targets that I could never say it quite that simply. I had to give him credit – that was very succinct. Bill held up a lead weight – it was shaped like a diamond and fit in the palm of his hands. "Don't get your panties in a bunch, I didn't waste our money on buying more supplies. This is my old fishing gear from Rahjid's storage bin. It is a sinker; I used to use it on fishing lures." Bill opened a small tackle box and showed us his lures and lead sinkers while we remained on all fours with the condoms dripping back down our throats as we clenched them in our mouths. "I used to be quite the fisherman in my younger days; now I am going to use this tackle box to hook a different kind of fish. When you get back, I am going to explain our new little system to tell who has been naughty or nice, I hope you cunts appreciate that ingenuity that goes into coming up with all this?" We both mumbled our thanks through the latex stuffed into our mouths and with that Chris spanked my ass one more time like bongos and sang "If your Mom is a big fucking whore, slap her ass" to the tune of 'if you are happy and you know it'. I almost crawled out the cabana before realizing we were permitted to walk. Jamie and I crossed the darkened parking lot briskly. The shoes we had on were made to strut your stuff and we had to glide and wiggle our asses just to walk in them but I made no secret that if I could have run I would have jogged on over to Rahjid's window from our Cabana. A car honked it's horn at me, and a man inside rolled down his window. He had been sitting out in the parking lot waiting for one of the girls. I waved at him and he noticed with a grin that I was completely bottomless. "Working?" he asked with a grin. I had a mouthful of condoms – so all I could manage was to hold up a finger for him to wait. He answered "No problem, I've got all the time in the world," and waved me off. I nodded appreciatively as we glided over to Rahjid's window. "Hello, my favorite filthy whores, you have taken a long time. I hope the outcome was profitable to me." He said from behind the glass in his thick Indian accent. Jamie was the first to spit out the condoms on to the stainless steel divider where payment is exchanged and I followed suit. "Shukriyaa (Bahut dhanyavaad)!" Rahjid's normally flat and dour expression was replaced by excitement as he saw the number of spent condoms. "You have been so busy, very good little whores!" his eyes lit up when we each placed a hundred dollar bill on his counter. "I have spoken to your husband about the payment and this is okay, but do not get creative and set up the gang bangs yourselves. This was a onetime thing, okay?" Rahjid was talking to us like we were children who were allowed to stay up past our bed time but reminding us not to get used to it. "Yes Master," I answered and noticed Jamie looking at me like I just flushed her gold fish down the toilet. "Rahjid is one of our owners just like your father and brother," I reminded her instantly realizing what she was probably giving me the stink eye about. "You are right Cow-tits, thank you Master" I knew my dutiful daughter well enough that she was trying out how it sounded to call him Master and she didn't like it- Rahjid for his part was completely oblivious to the subtext of our discussion. "How are the sacred needles feeling on you now?" Rahjid asked me with surprisingly sincere concern in his voice. I had honestly forgotten he had inserted three inch long needles in my body earlier, I hadn't even bled. I admitted I had gotten used to them to my "Master". "You may have some redeemable qualities yet," his normally flat expression changed to one of pride. "This is why Devi-Das must bear hundreds of them and in the most sensitive and private of places. You are too valuable a whore to engage in a spiritual journey to rid yourself of the evil sins you commit daily, but I believe you should ask your husband to let you leave them in," he advised. "I could take them out Master?" I was suddenly now aware of the ten needles once again now that he had mentioned them to me. "Do or do not do, but don't keep lollygagging, there is a gentlemen in the Lincoln Continental that has been waiting fifteen minutes. The other whores are taking their time to report for work, you two are all that is available right now, so go now, make money!" Rahjid shooed us away from his window and returned to whatever it was he did in his office all night. We turned to walk away and Jamie mocked Rahjid under her breath "Do or doo-doo, do you do Mountain Dew?" she giggled a hilarious imitation of his accent that only we could hear in those rigid cadence like Apu the shopkeeper from the Simpsons but in her sweet voice. I knew I had better wait to be given permission – and Rahjid hadn't really given me permission to remove the needles myself. "Your Dad wants to tell us something important, but I already had that guy wait, do you think I should turn a trick real fast or return to your father as ordered?" I asked Jamie while we shared a little humor. Gallows humor had been one mechanism to cope with all of this and I laughed now whenever I had the opportunity – something I had never taken the time to do back in my nine to five life as a Senior Vice President, project manager and mother hen at home before all this happened. "I think Dad will punish you either way," She laughed easily like someone who was in the same boat. "If you don't try to earn money whenever you can you will be punished for not being a good enough whore. If you don't obey your Masters you'll be punished for that," she giggled at the no-win situation. Damned if you do, damned if you don't – the story of my life. "So what should I do then?" I asked as I found myself making one of her duck-face expressions without thinking about it. "Do I look like your Master? I am just a dumb slut like you. If you are going to get punished either way, you may as well just do what you want." She had a breezy acceptance of our situation and in the cool night air her blonde hair gently wafted behind her as we walked over to where his car was on the way to the cabana. "You are right; I'll ask him to wait. He said he had all the time in the world, after all. I am really curious to hear what your father has in store for us," that was no lie. Jamie went on ahead to the cabana after waving at the man and I bent into the window of the passenger side of his car. I was not sure if her casual acceptance of our situation was reassuring or scary - but she actually skipped on a head as if she were completely carefree. "You don't have any bottoms on at all?" He had dark hair and was about my husband's build and hair style. "No sir, does that turn you on?" I could see that it did and I smiled at him. "Yeah, it's kind of hot. It is sort of like you are so down to fuck, you aren't even bothering to waste time getting fully dressed. Hop in!" he invited me into his car. I bit my lip "Actually, I have to have a meeting with my bosses, you said you had plenty of time, do you mind if I come back in a few minutes?" He seemed skeptical and looked at the cabana I came out of as if he were assessing it for hidden cameras and undercover cops. I licked my lips "I promise, I will make it worth your while," I blew him a kiss and laid on the charm. "I just want a quick BJ and I am out, come on." He became impatient. "Please sir, just wait for me?" I had already reached the conclusion I needed to return to Bill and Chris and I walked away from the car and towards the cabana. "What took you so long, fish lips?" Bill had his arms folded and an angry expression on his face. Jamie was already naked again and standing with her arms raised over her head in a spread eagle position. I removed my shirt and joined her without being told while answer "A john outside had wanted to set up a date with me, but I told him to wait, Sir" "You tell customers to wait? You ASK them to wait" he lashed my ass with his belt to add impact to his lesson. "Yes Sir, sorry that is what I meant. I did ask him to wait, I did..." I bleated as my husband whipped my ass red with his belt a few more times and my son watched with a smirk. To my credit – I stood with my arms over my head and didn't step out of position. "I don't know when you are lying to tell me what I want to hear, or when you are telling the truth, is being a whore teaching you how to manipulate men?" Bill's question hurt my feelings. It wasn't in the 'You have a big fat ass' or 'Your pussy smells like tuna' kind of put-downs that I had grown used too. It wasn't in calling me a 'Cunt' which would set me off but now I've grown to accept. It was in the implication that I had some hidden agenda and was hoping to become man-eating, conniving grafter who conned her way from man to man. "I am not sure how to answer that Master, if I say it isn't, you would say I am lying." "You understand Chris and I are going to double-up our scrutiny over you and Ass-face here? We don't want you to slack or grow to be lazy and manipulative whores like the women you are working with." Bill's statement of his intent was an implied question. "Yes Master, I appreciate your discipline and asked you to continue it on me," I didn't feel comfortable speaking for Jamie –even though I knew that she would follow suit with my decision. I knew Bill was leading to something by bringing this up. "We just wanted to make sure before you two continue. Ass-face, do you accept your brother's and my rules?" Bill asked his daughter. "I don't know what the rules really are anymore, but I think so Master." Jamie was nothing less than absolutely honest. I noticed Bill had not said he suspected her of becoming manipulative and secretive like he had just said to me. "That is a good point, and at your mother's insistence we dropped our star system," Bill made it sound like I had demanded we drop the previous rules. "I agreed because we are all in really deep shit as a family. We are losing the house, she lost her job and we are knee-deep in debt." I had remembered it more like as a family we decided to suspend the rules. At first we continued the discipline in order to make enough just for the trip to his internet user's forum and we would then finish our obligation. With the bombshell that landed on us about losing the house today we agreed to continue the discipline to motivate us to focus on earning enough money to get a roof over our heads. I felt if the discipline stopped I would not have the courage to continue whoring – it was almost as if I had to feel obligated to do it in order to accept being a whore. I kind of needed it in order to submit to this – it was hard for me to explain even to myself. Bill must have noticed I was thinking that from the look on my face. "You look like you have something to add, whore?" "No Master, please continue." I answered obediently. "Keep reaching for the ceiling with your hands over your head, I want your full attention," Bill smacked my left boob and let it flop and jiggle. He was serious even if Chris was smirking like a cat who just ate the pet canary. "You two cunts need rules. I thought about just re-implementing Bill's Bill, after all, it was you who introduced me to the Taylor Women's Declaration of Independence, do you remember that one Cow-tits?" How could I forget? I nodded and agreed I did. "I can't hear you; tell me about the declaration of independence? Are you embarrassed of making Chris and I sign it?" He slapped my other tit – at least there was some symmetry in my punishment – equal slapping of my boobs. "We," I started out but realized that it wasn't Jamie's idea and stopped myself before including her in my response. "I wrote our Declaration of Independence because I was tired of how things were and I wanted to send you a wakeup call, Master. I wish I had not." "Oh do you? Then why did you kick us out of the house, and in order for us to come back from THIS VERY MOTEL, did you and your little minion here insist we bow to your whims and be emasculated every day as your naked slaves to be open to scorn and ridicule as your bitch-boys?" He slapped the same tit – so much for balancing the pain. "I am sorry I did that to you Sir, I am sorry I involved Jamie, and I am sorry that I let things get out of hand, Master!" I truly was sorry and I felt my voice crack just a little. "Oh She is sorry?" Bill looked at Chris with a look of incredulous disbelief. "You and I had belts tied around our nuts and jerked off several times a day in mason jars together. We had our asses paddled while you two laughed at us on the treadmill and made us run around for your amusement, but she is sorry." He clearly didn't forgive me or accept my apology. Chris said "Well, it was kind of fun, I don't mind it." I found myself smiling that he at least forgave me. "I mean, if my sister hadn't leant me to Cathy Griffin and made me moo like a cow and stick light bulbs up my ass all day while she humiliated me - I would never have been able to boss the two of these sluts around when it was their turn," Chris laughed at the ironic turn of the tables. "It seems like a fair trade to me." I stopped smiling – he had snuck in a little gut punch to my ego in the subtext of his answer. "Do you two agree, has this been a fair trade? Or have we been too hard on you? Extended our rule over you for too long?" Bill seemed to be asking me. "It has been a fair trade, because it was my fault for starting this, and putting you both through it. I regret writing the Taylor women's Declaration of Independence. Where my discipline was focused on controlling and cuckolding you as men, yours is different – because it focuses on the shortcomings of women." "Ass Face, has it been a fair trade?" "You have been awful to me, made me stop being a cheerleader, give up any dignity I had, ruined my reputation at school, spanked me and made me do gross and disgusting things for weeks," Jamie sounded very serious. Then she added "but yeah, it's been fair. I think as a family, we've learned so much about what we are willing to do to stay together and to be a family and what is important. I think I should be thanking you." "Awwww," Bill mocked her surprisingly bright outlook of turning lemons into lemonade. "You may want to wait to hear about our new rules, before you go thanking me and your brother so quickly." I had a feeling though Jamie the eternal optimist would still find the silver lining no matter what it was – as long as we faced it together. "Some of our Spanish words washed off your chest," Bill held my boobs apart to observe the handiwork he and Chris left written on my chest in sharpie. He asked Chris to take out his cell phone and record what happened next. "You two cunts agree that Taylor men rule and Taylor women drool?" Bill asked us and in unison we both agreed. "That you were completely wrong to have tried to make us obey you like little bitch boys?" and once again we gave him a crisp yes sir. "That your treatment while harsh has been fair?" and without hesitation we both answered Yes Sir. I had begun to wonder where he was going with this. "You agree to be our whores, not just because you did us wrong, but because it is your place to serve, suck, fuck and be amusing sluts to your betters?" Bill asked and I hesitated just a second to wait for him to put some sort of end date on the question. He smacked my butt hard with his belt and asked "Thinking?" "yes sir, I agree but forever?" I asked despite a growing desire to bring down my tired arms and rub my rosy red ass cheeks. "I am glad you asked that question; we need money to survive but we will always need money to survive. Are you both willing to serve as obedient whores forever?" Bill asked with a very serious face. I looked at Jamie wondering what she would say. "I didn't think so; you two cunts DO want the ability to be set free from your obligations, despite your just now saying we are your betters. Once you get set free you think you will be our equals again?" I didn't know what to say to that. I had been thinking about a lot of things recently – but I had not been thinking about that. "I don't know that we will ever be able to go back to how it was before, Master. The kids are almost grown and will be starting their own lives anyway?" which was true – we only had so few years left before they would be on their own as adults. "Mom, you are saying you won't fall on your knees and suck my dick when I come home from college?" Chris's expression was definitely kidding but there was a hint of serious to his question. "I hadn't thought things out that long term, my concern has been how we would pay our bills and getting your father to the internet user's forum, would you want that to be our relationship Sir?" I asked him seriously – which dampened his big smile. It was clear he hadn't really thought it out that far either. "You suck cock really well. I would want to come home and see how you compare to all that young college poon tang I will be getting," it was interesting to hear Chris talk about his future and college. A few weeks ago he could only think about when the next Star Wars episode was coming on Cartoon Network and making farting noises while he played computer games. "Here is our proposal, first you are our whores without question until next weekend. There is no ifs, and or butts, agreed?" Bill asked me. He could tell from my hesitation that I wanted to hear the entire offer before agreeing in parts so he continued. "You will each get the weight of your failures attached to you," he held up one of his lead sinkers. I had some of the heavier spiked weights he bought at the bondage shop and knew they could be really painful over time. "You know how Jacob Marley carried around the chains of his misdeeds in the afterlife in that story about Ebenezer Scrooge?" "A Christmas Carol, Dad" Chris was being helpful and Bill nodded his head. "You two will have regular performance reviews several times a day. Instead of just affirmations where we do all the work, you will go over how you performed. This is not just about money, but obviously that is one factor. We need money, but it is how you earned it – if the discipline we are offering kept you humble, subservient and considerate." Bill said. "In Yo Place, BITCHES!" Chris through up two gangster peace signs jokingly but his Dad gave him a warning look to be serious. "At those performance reviews you will be reviewed, graded, judged on different elements of the virtues of a good whore, do you remember what those were?" Jamie recited the abbreviation they had made us recite so frequently for the principles of her father's rules based on W.H.O.R.E. He liked to use mnemonics to make things easy to remember - It certainly did work. W - Working. Producing tangible goods and services for the Taylor Men. Dates who pay to be escorted by the Taylor women can "Tip" a number of W's at the end of the date equivalent to the courtesy they were extended by the females. H - Humiliation. Acceptance and participation in both humiliation dares, and living a life that recognizes and encourages your humility. O - Obedience. Demonstrating a willingness and desire to obey your betters. R - Respect. Show your respect to those in authority. This should not be confused with normal expected protocols of Taylor women. Saying "Sir" is a sign of respect, but this letter is awarded when sluts go above and beyond normal expectations. E - Enthusiasm. Taylor Men don not want robots. We expect you not only to participate, but to participate enthusiastically. To earn this letter, you should be suggesting your own dares, or helping in your own discipline. You should do your chores and complete your assignments, no matter how unpleasant with a pleasing face and attitude. "Yes, that is exactly right, but I want to add to those principles since you are such advanced whores. You will learn a new word – SHIT. It is simple, there are only four letters you must now focus on that you've mastered those core principles of submission. You have come most of the way, and now you just have to go through DEEP SHIT, and you are done with all of this shit." He laughed. S. –Sexuality. You are to fuck, suck, lick, tongue, rim, nibble, nuzzle, kiss, rub, massage, anyone or anything we say, how we say, when we say, and for whatever amount of money we say – that includes Roscoe. H- Humorous. You must make Chris and I laugh with your pathetic antics, the way you do in white alert situations and by oinking and wallowing in your piggyness. If we are to get something out of this besides fucking you – it is that. I - Impressive. You must each compete with each other daily to impress us. Who is the bigger slut? Who is better at sucking dicks? Who can hold the most cum in her mouth the longest. You will both be graded in competition with one another. You don't have to just perform and perform well any more – you have to outperform EACH other. A little friendly competition. T- Training – you must continue your education in discipline. You must sleep bound up to avoid getting into mischief, accept our punishments and consequences and defer to our wisdom. You eat, shit, walk, talk the way you have been taught for the duration of your commitment – That includes at the internet user's forum unless I give you express permission to pretend to be a trophy wife and over-achieving cheerleader. "I want you to treat this like fucking American Idol, and I am that Simon Cowell and Chris is Randy Jackson!" Bill said as he explained his new paradigm to us. "A little bitchy, dog, a little bitchy" Chris did an impression of the American idol judge whose singing critique usually involves saying they are 'pitchy'. My first thought was going back to Roscoe. Jamie had managed to avoid that little tale about our family pet. I wanted to ask about that – but given the look on Jamie's face I knew that she has had sex with him. I could only wonder how and why at this point. "You two have graduated into being real W.H.O.R.E's. I don't think you've earned all the stars you would have earned by now, but I am giving you a promotion. This is a whole new phase, and now you are going to learn S.H.I.T". I don't want to see you hesitate to obey us, but I do want you to learn why you are doing what you are doing. I am not kidding when I call this a competition between you. I want you to have to work hard, and the only real measuring stick to set the bar – is for each of you to continually raise it on each other. I said nothing – I waited to be asked a question. "At the end of your performance appraisal, we are going to either attach a weight to your cunt, your nipples or any place we can hang one if you failed. If you did well, you may not get another weight and if you did exceedingly well you will get your weight removed." Chris held up a finger to add "IF in the category of impress, you managed to totally outdo the other one, one of your weights might be added to her instead." "Yes, that's right" I wasn't sure if Bill liked that idea and just agreed to it or he had been planning that all along because of how seamless they were working together. "May I ask how we would whore if we have weights dangling off of us, Master?" I asked. In response I received a hard slap across the face and told to wait until he had finished explaining the deal – which was fair. I should have waited. "You will still also receive the same consequences we used previously when you fuck up. You will get assigned corrections for day to day disciplines, infractions will be drawn from the fish bowl when we bring it to the cabana and serious fuck ups will be dealt with as Judgments on a case by case basis and only Chris and I can give those out." "Did you want to ask a question, I thought I heard you sigh Cow-tits?" Bill demanded of me. I shook my head no and answered obediently that I didn't. He smiled and continued explaining "If you two twats have no weights on you at midnight next Sunday, then you are going to be permitted to graduate out of Shit. We should have enough money by then to get a new place and start looking for regular jobs and Jamie can return to school because her suspension is up. If you still have weights, however then you serve until you have no weights and you do it well." "When you graduate this program you will be allowed to pick out your own clothes, but I will tell you we really only have the slut clothes we bought you – so you have to make do with what you have. That means most likely there are no panties or bras in your futures for a while." He laughed at that thought. I'd gone commando for so long I was going to wonder what it feels like to be strapped into a bra when I finally got to wear one again. "Jamie will get her room back, and be allowed to sleep in a bed, eat at the table, and pick out her own food. You will both be allowed to stop calling us Master, but you are welcome to continue if you want to show proper respect." He eyed us. He had not explicitly mentioned my sleeping and eating arrangements yet. "I would like you to continue to share my bed, and not fuck strangers or be whored out after you graduate." He looked at me intently waiting for a nod but I just continued listening. "Chris and I discussed it and he would like you to share his bed every other night, and suck his dick any time he wants at home. We would like you to ask us permission to shit and continue to eat scraps we throw you off the floor in the nude of course." There was a long quiet while he waited for my reaction. "Really?" was all I could say. "No, I am just bullshitting you. You would have the same rules as Jamie. You will just be respectful, not pushy, not controlling, and not try to change us." I smiled that he had really managed to make my heart almost beat out of my chest that he was serious. I have probably been putting off really picturing what our relationship is going to be after all this ends – a part of me was already envisioning continuing to be husband's slave. My husband's belt cracked across my breasts and got my immediate attention focused on him. "Are you ready to learn how to deal with the weights when you are whoring, you pig?" he snarled. "Yes Master," I swallowed and asked nervously. "Suffer," he laughed and added "Other than your butt plugs, your holes are going to be wide open. The weights will be there to remind you of your place but not prevent dicks from getting in. If they pay for the ass, they can remove the butt plug and put it back when they are done and you've cleaned them of course. They are NOT to remove your weights." Bill instructed. "You will be responsible if the weights pop off, you are to return to us so we can add that weight and one more after we decide the appropriate level of punishment." Chris chimed in. "Won't people ask why we have them on, Sir?" Jamie bit her lip asking – no doubt expecting a crack across the face for asking. Bill didn't strike her like he did me for asking – Was I just being nit-picky about equal treatment? I didn't want Jamie to be slapped across the face for asking questions. I felt guilty for even thinking about that. "You will pull a card from what you learned under white alert. You will say that you are being reminded of all your shortcomings, and that you asked to be corrected by your owners. You will be permitted to say they are heavy and uncomfortable but that you deserve it for being such a stupid slut. Do you understand, my little cunt-brat?" Bill explained and Jamie answered obediently that she did. "I want you to question our decisions and understand what we are doing here," he held his finger under Jamie's chin to look into her eyes. "However, if you question or doubt or hesitate to carry my orders once you do understand, then you understand whore that not only will I not hesitate to punish that sweet precious ass of yours, but I will add a weight from your mother's cunt or out of my tackle box. This is a completion ladies – you can do the minimum to get by and just follow orders or you can impress us." "Dad, I have a question," Chris raised his finger. "Sure, we are partners in all this, go right ahead Son." Bill seemed a little stunned Chris felt he had to get permission to ask. I remember when we showed him the 'Taylor Women's Declaration of Independence' he could barely be asked to glance at it and now he was so engaged. "My battery is low on my camera, are you two going to whore your asses off every chance we give you for the next week and continue on as long as you wear the weights?" he asked us. "Yes Sir," we both looked at each other and answered somewhat hesitantly. "Are you going to argue and huff and puff if you think we added a weight unfairly and didn't remove it if you were really kissing our asses and doing everything we said but we STILL felt it was not good enough?" Chris asked while holding the camera up in front of us. I wasn't sure when I had huffed and puffed – at least not since the first few days before we agreed to submit to this but I wasn't going to argue that point and ironically prove that I would argue points. "No Sir," we were a little more in synch that time. "Are you two going to be really good sports and make this a real contest, really give it everything you can and see who is the best dick sucking, ass licking, ball cuddling, slut between the two of you?" Chris was smiling hopefully. "Yes Sir, but what if we are really good all week and then on Sunday, we still don't have enough money?" Jamie's voice almost reverted to baby talk as she asked for reassurance about the new rule system's possible flaws. "Then you weren't good all week, were you, you little whore? You should have been sucking more dicks and we should have been on your ass like white on rice to squeeze every fucking cent you can out of this job of yours!" Bill answered sharply adding "You have one job out there, please the men who want to fuck you. It is really simple, can you do that?" "Yes Sir, I can," Jamie seemed oddly doubtful – as if she was unsure of herself. That was unusual for the eternal optimist, but if Bill or Chris noticed, they said nothing. It might have just been me hearing subtext that I was feeling myself. "So it is agreed then, you have your light at the end of the table, but rest assured I love you both!" Bill said and then quickly added "But I love blistering your asses more!" and he gave us both a belt to the ass to prove it. "We love you too Sir!" I was surprised that my daughter and I answered in unison on that one while Bill was in the process of delivering his belt leather no less. I began to wonder if I would ever live down any of the things I did this week and what it would be like to try to return to normalcy around the house when this was done. Then I realized there was NO house when this is done and therefore there was NO normalcy. I decided it might be best if I just stayed focused on what I had to do over the next week and didn't try to think too hard about that whore tattoo across my ass and the month I had trained as someone's sex slave – my son and husbands! "You two haven't done enough to be evaluated yet, but I vote we add a sinker to your mom before she leaves. She was late getting here, and that slick clit of hers looks lonely with just a little ring in it." Bill asked Chris his thoughts. "Yeah, I agree" Chris rubbed a finger across Jamie's slit and said "But she is awful wet too, I guess just excited to get out there and start whoring for that almighty dollar, huh Sis?" Jamie gave him a slightly sour expression – but also a sweet and fun wink that she did when he teased her. "Sir, I accept the weight and agree I should have to wear it," I was quick to say. "Here comes one of your mother's infamous buts," Bill folded his arms – he knew me too well. Chris was already tying a short length of fishing line and a sinker to my clit ring – it was small and dangled just on my clit itself – not even a quarter of a pound. "Bigger than her buffalo butt?" Chris reached behind and made my ass cheeks quiver with a mighty but playful slap. "But," I cleared my throat "Master Rahjid told me I could ask if I can remove the needles from my punishment earlier." "Oh, you are off to a great start, you were just told the new principles of S.H.I.T," Bill was disappointed. "I was going to ask to continue to wear them if it pleases you, I am not bleeding at all from them or anything," I remained contrite. "Do they hurt though?" Chris asked me candidly. "Not any more, No Master," I smiled at him sweetly. "Then why would I want you to wear them? I'd rather stick needles in your butt that hurt. Pull them out, get dressed, and get the fuck out on the streets and start sucking cocks!" "Yes Master," I answered right away as they dismissed us to dress. Jamie squeezed into her skirt and shook on her top and was out the door before I had my third needle out. They hurt much worse coming out as I pulled up the skin and had to bring out the sharp end of the needle through both holes – the entry and exit. "Stop fiddle fucking around and trying to stall," Bill pulled a few out around my breasts hard and they jabbed me hard making me gasp with pain and my eyes water. I suddenly had a new appreciation for Rahjid's practiced hand as I removed the ten needles from my body. I sneezed as if someone had plucked out a delicate nose hair when I removed one from my pussy and I almost cried. "Aye-yi-yi, well hopefully that guy in the Lincoln is still out there, thank you Sirs for this, I'll return the needles to Master Rahjid". I thanked my son and husband and walked out into the night air to start whoring for both of them. ------- Chapter 35: Jamie's Journal: Say I won a math debate real fast Note to reader: This is an excerpt of Jamie's journal from Wednesday approximately 8:45 pm from her perspective. The events take place after her father introduces her to the S.H.I.T system. In order to increase readability, some of the dialogue exchanged was altered to appear in a 'narrative' story format. CASH EARNINGS WEDNESDAY WENDY: $385 JAMIE: $535 I got dressed and out of the cabana as quickly as I could to start my night of whoring. I didn't see the guy that had been waiting on mom – I guess he found someone else to please him. I rubbed my sore ass – Dad's belt had really put a good strapping across my tender cheeks. If I hadn't been spanked every day for weeks I might have actually cried – but I just continued walking while I massaged my sore hiney. I had a lot on my mind about the new agreement we just made with Dad and Chris. I normally am in lockstep with my mom but there were so many questions she would have normally asked that she did not this time. A few weeks ago when they introduced the first draft of rules to us, mom had actually gotten into the nitty-gritty of the rules and negotiated with Dad. This time she just agreed to everything without question. I wondered if she knew what we were getting into? I guess if anything I could take some solace in the thought that we'd be doing it together whatever it was - at least until Sunday. Then what? I would have to go back to school. Would I go back to wearing what I used to wear? Rue 21 and trendy stuff like that or come to school in my whore clothes still? Would I even have any choice besides the outfits we already had? How would it be to ride a bus to school and not have to be dry humped by a 9th grader whose lap I had to sit on all the way to school? I touched my pink dog collar and wondered if I would take it off? I couldn't take off the tattoo – I probably wouldn't take off the piercings – I was going to have some interesting stories to tell my future husband, huh? "Oh yeah, when I was sixteen I was a street walker with my mom for a few weeks, oh gangbangs? Well there was one," I smiled to myself as I pictured being in my thirties sipping coffee in a suburban house of my own with my new husband swapping stories about growing up. I was stalking across the courtyard of the motel. The high heels I had on were painful and kept my calf muscles tight and strained while forcing me to wiggle my ass while I walked. I am sure this whole idea of fuck me pumps had originally been dreamt up by a man. Two black boys who couldn't have been older than the Waxerman kids were standing in the shadows between one of the cabanas leering at me. I don't mean to sound racist but all I could see was their eyes and the big smile of their white teeth in the darkness. I heard a girl in the background but I couldn't see her comment on me "She so nasty!" I waved hello to them and gave them a wink. I assumed they lived around here somewhere. I wasn't sure what time it was, but I am assuming any kids who grow up around here are used to hookers walking around the motel this time of night and aren't that shocked to see anyone dressed like me. I was dressed like a Ho' there was no mistaking that. When my hand rubbed my ass I could feel my bare butt cheek exposed at the bottom of my skirt. If Victoria had a secret, I was dressed more like her explanation. I was scanning the highway for cars – the traffic was light. I would have to work hard tonight to earn money for my family. I know Chris doesn't want me using euphemisms to sugar coat things – I would have to fuck and suck a lot of guys to earn money for my owners is what I should have said just now. I noticed Ronnie and Doris (two of the other whores that work for Rahjid) were arguing. "I know you took it," Doris said with her cute Rosie Perez accent. "I certainly did not, I would not touch any of your shit," Ronnie answered back angrily while the cherry red glow of her cigarette lit up the area around her face for a moment in the shadows of the motel. . "This is bullshit and you know it," Doris was providing some drama as the two women argued back and forth. I could not help but wonder what they thought of me as they stared at me while I strolled past them before continuing their back and forth pissing match. I tried to picture my brother and father dominating them the way they did my mother and I and I almost laughed out loud at the mental image. I could just see Ronnie with her hair weave and cigarette standing there naked "Go on honey and attach that weight to my titty now, I'm getting tired of standing here like this." In that husky, sweet, black southern voice of hers. Then Doris saying "Oh no Poppy Chulo, you better not put that butt plug up my ass, I will put it up yours". I could have actually pictured Maya in a full dominatrix rubber suit, but I couldn't picture the six foot tall blonde submitting to anyone. I was as shocked as anyone to learn she was a he – granted, a he with a perfect set of boobs. I was already walking down the sidewalk towards the neon lights of an empty plaza and a bank that might have at one time been a pizza hut by the way it was built. It had one of those iconic pizza hut roofs but had been painted green like somehow no one would notice. I chuckled and scanned for my next customer. I wasn't sure if I should call them 'johns', 'tricks', 'clients', 'customers'. I would have to ask Chris and Dad when I got back what they prefer. I am sure probably the most disgusting and blunt of all the possibilities is the most likely. Honk They don't usually honk – attracts too much attention. I looked at the tiny green chevette and thought it might be Peter from earlier. It was a different guy and he rolled down his window to talk to me. I sauntered on over to him with a big smile on my face. "Hey there cutie, I noticed you were out here skipping down the sidewalk," Had I been? I didn't even realize how foolish that must have looked. "Oh shit, it's you," he obviously recognized me. I recognized him too. "Mr. Dragovich?" I was stunned – my principal from school. I smiled flirtatiously but inside I instantly turned to Jell-O. This was so much easier around strangers or people whose opinion of me didn't matter. I know on some level that I still crave approval from teachers and principals – a born teacher's pet. "Get in," He offered reluctantly. He was a giant bear of a man with one of those Hulk Hogan style mustaches that went down around his lip on both sides – but chestnut brown instead of blonde. "Really?" I had already opened the door rendering my question moot as I sat down next to him. On the outside I was smiling but inside I was worried about what he must think of me – I am such a slut now. "Should I even ask what you are doing out here?" Mr. Dragovich looked disappointed as he looked me up and down. "I suppose I don't have to ask what brought you out here, Sir?" I smiled playfully but melted a little inside – Wondering what he must have thought of me? "Very funny, yes you know why I was on this street, but not for sex with someone from my school! I mean for Christ sakes, this is on the other side of town." He sounded frustrated. "I won't tell anyone, Sir" I promised him sweetly while hoping he didn't think I was a wild child bad-girl. "Oh tell that to the last guy with my job – Principal Banks. He got caught up in some mess with your friend Cathy Griffin and now the last I heard, he is working as a teacher in Chicago's upper east side." He laughed. "So why did you let me in the car then, Sir?" I was not being coy – I really did not know what he wanted me in his car for. "You are such a sweet girl, Jamie. What happened?" he had one hand on the steering wheel, and looked over at me. I instantly knew he was about to lecture me about how nasty and naughty I was being – the embarrassment started to grow inside of me. "I wish I had an easy answer for you Sir," I don't think he wanted to hear the number of chapters it would take to fully explain everything and I wasn't about to let him read my journal. I would be mortified if anyone read this! "Your parents know where you are?" he held his cell phone in his free hand as if to imply he was going to call them. "Yes sir, they do," I answered him truthfully. I wanted to explain it all – that I was a good girl but fearful of his disapproval so I left it at answering his question. "They do? Well do they know what you are doing?" He was shocked. "Yes Sir, actually they do," another truth but he didn't seem to believe me. I had been really good about being playful and sexy – but eleven years of asking for extra credit at school and getting straight A's meant that Principals were my kryptonite. The disappointment in his voice was fueling my embarrassment. "You are full of it now, how about I call them, give me their number," he wanted to call me on what he assumed was a bluff. "If you'd like to talk to them, they are just back at the motel behind us actually Sir," I said calmly while internally turning to Jell-O. He looked at me and then looked over his shoulder at the broke down light in front of Rahjid's motel that was flashing vacancy – but only a few of the letters were lighting up. "We are getting kicked out of our house, so I am trying to earn a little money is all, Sir" I said. I did not want him to feel sorry for me – but I hated the fact that he thought I was just a rebellious teen like Cathy. "Why don't you get a job at a pet store or a Hardees? You don't have to do this, Jamie." He seemed more inclined to believe me but now he opened his door and got out. "I actually do, it's really hard to explain though." I saw that he wanted me to get out of the car and I followed him. We left his car parked alongside of the sidewalk and continued to the motel on foot. "You need counseling. Is someone abusing you? I don't mean just physically, but in any way?" He looked concerned and worried for my safety. I smiled sweetly and assured him things were fine. "No abuse sir" and that was technically not a lie. The spankings I received were all things I had agreed were part of the boundaries of the rules. Abuse would have meant something against my will. "That seems like bullshit to me. Unless that is a new tattoo, I can see the red marks on your butt in that ridiculously small skirt you are wearing" he looked at me seriously and after catching my gaze looked a little embarrassed. "I could not help but notice Jamie. I am a principal. I check skirt lengths at school all day." He felt the need to offer more of an explanation. "If I minded you looking at my ass, I wouldn't have worn the skirt," I said to him. I think my willingness to talk that openly made him uncomfortable. "Look all you would like Sir, and yes I was spanked but it wasn't abuse. We rounded the corner into the motel and Doris and Ronnie had made up and were laughing and talking together while they smoked cigarettes and watched for passing cars – and potential customers. "MMmhmmm, now that is one fine looking man you got there, Ass-face," Ronnie added "That ass of his looks delicious." "Ass face?" He leaned down a little to whisper his question. "It's my nickname, I guess, Sir." I answered while keeping my eyes closed. I couldn't look at him and admit it. It just sounded so awful all of a sudden - as if I were hearing the nickname again for the very first time. "Some nickname," He stood at our cabana door and asked "So your family is inside?" rapping his knuckles on the screen door while I nodded it was. My Dad came to the door without his shirt and wearing only his jeans. "Oh, Mr. Dragovich from school, this is a little unexpected." "Mr. Taylor, it is nice to see you. I just wondered if you knew your daughter was walking the streets tonight?" he asked sternly but it was obvious he would have rather not been having this conversation. "No?" My dad was pretty good at acting in front of Mrs. Waxerman but his feigned look of surprise was a little hard to believe for anyone else. Chris came to the door while buckling his belt. "Oh, Chris Taylor, you are here too." Mr. Dragovich said sarcastically. "Is this whore giving you any trouble?" Chris joked as he strode up to the screen door. He either hadn't heard Dad's denial or didn't care. My stomach started to drop out as I felt a new unexplained wave of embarrassment wash over me. I think it was the fear of getting caught in a lie – not something I deal with well. "You Taylor's are certainly one of the most unusual families I have at Cherry Lawn," He laughed. I wondered who was more unusual than us and how? That would make a story in and of itself I guess. "What exactly are you doing out here? Khal Drogo," My brother called him a name from Game of Thrones very casually. He smiled – he had heard that reference before. He was tall and square shouldered and in a lot of ways looked like the Barbarian King character from HBO's Game of Thrones. Some of the nerdier kids at school had taken to calling him "Khal Drogo" as a nickname. "What I am doing out here is none of your business, Chris." Mr. Dragovich explained defensively. "I think it is my business, I don't imagine you drove all the way out here for a sale at J-Mart did you?" Chris pressed the issue – implying he knew that Mr. Dragovich was cruising MLK blvd for hookers. "Chris, I am concerned about your sister. Jamie you don't have to behave like this," Mr. Dragovich didn't answer Chris's question as he turned to me. "Yes she does, tell him why sis." Chris commanded. I was hesitant for a split second but then I looked at Dad and Chris and answered "Because I am a whore Sir, and you are the boss of me." As obediently as I could. I didn't look at Mr. Dragovich because I could feel a wave of his disappointment wash over me. "No you aren't a whore, you don't have to do what your brother tells you," Mr. Dragovich offered a plea of reason to me. "Yes she does, show him Sis. Turn around," Chris was smirking as he gave the order and I obeyed. "Stick it out," Chris ordered and I knew he meant stick my butt out as far as I could and bend forward. "Even white boys got to shout," Chris laughed and slapped my ass. The skirt covered nothing when I stood ass out and bent forward – as I soon discovered. "Chris!" Mr. Dragovich was stunned by the sound of his voice. "Look, relax Khal Drago, it's cool," Chris tried to calm him down. "No it is not cool," Mr. Dragovich sounded every bit the Principal in his response. "You would not be looking at my sister's sweet, sweet ass," Chris pinched my butt cheeks "If you weren't a man. You came down here because you have needs like anyone else." There was silence while Mr. Dragovich considered what to say next and I felt so awkward not being able to see any of them while bent over facing my ass towards them. "That may be true, but not with my students, Chris." Mr. Dragovich hadn't budged on that. I wasn't sure if I felt relief that he was one of the good guys or disappointment he thought I wasn't. "I am not one of your students Sir, would you like to fuck me instead?" I turned my head at the sound of my mom's voice. How long had she been watching from inside the cabana. She was completely naked except for her high heels and dog collar as she stood in the silhouette of the cabana screen door. I could see a tiny weight hanging from her clit. "Mrs. Taylor?" I don't think Mr. Dragovich had seen my mom's transformation – although I assumed it was common knowledge in the rumor mill. "I am not a student at your school, I am a full grown woman. Would you like to play with me, Sir?" My mom strutted out of the door and glided onto the steps over towards him seductively. "Why are you doing this?" Mr. Dragovich sounded nervous and slightly impressed as she loosened his tie. "I love cock, so does my daughter. I promise, I will treat you extra special," My mom touched his trousers to rub his cock and lead him into the cabana. "Come on Sir, I am extra horny." Was she competing with me to be a bigger slut and get that weight removed, or was she saving my bacon from an uncomfortable situation? Either way, Mr. Dragovich went inside with her. He was after all a man and not a saint. "You can stand up now, you pig" Chris tickled my clit from behind as I stood up. Dad laughed "Try not to pick members of your faculty for your customers." "Should I refer to them as customers, Sir?" I asked awkwardly one of the many questions I had been thinking about before this. "What?" Dad asked confused that I had asked. "She wants to know if she gets to call them customers or tricks or johns or something like that, isn't that right slut?" Chris had picked up on the context of my question. It was odd how he seemed to be inside my head. I guess he paid more attention to me growing up than I ever thought. He seems to know me inside and out. I nodded and he asked "What do you think slut?" "Well dad had called them customers," I answered back sweetly. "That's what Dad is allowed to call them. What do you think you need to call them?" He redirected the question back to me. "Well I would call them Sir," I answered. "Yes you would, because?" Chris asked prodding me to give a more detailed answer. "Because they are my better, and I must show respect to all men, Sir. I was asking more if I should call them tricks or johns, though" I replied as politely as I could. "I know you were, but you have forgotten your lessons about being direct and not beating around the bush and trying to be polite. You are a slut, and you need to talk like one, so they are never customers or clients to you. You will refer to them as johns and tricks in that context, because that is what a whore like you would say, got it?" "Yes Sir!" I nodded in understanding – I think there is something in me that drives me to conscientiously clarify what I already know. "You've got something here on your shirt," He pointed to my shirt and when I looked down he brought his finger up and booped me on the nose. "Gotcha, ass face," Dad and him laughed and sent me back to walk the street while Mom fucked Mr. Dragovich in the cabana. He was trying to cheer me up and tease me and when he didn't get a smile from me – he honked my tits and made a funny farting sound. I have to admit – I did giggle and smile a little. I waved to Dad and Chris as I walked away – knowing my mom was in the cabana fucking my principal. Dad and Chris flipped me the finger and yelled for me to stop "Fiddle-fucking the fuck around." So I did just that and got back to scanning the side walk. There were more cars now and I did not see the other girls – they must have been working tricks themselves. I made it about twenty feet down the sidewalk in a new direction from the last time I tried it before running into an old bum. He was black and smelled like beer and looked disgusting. He had an old sweater and ball cap and reminded me of the janitor at my school. I thought it might be ironic if it really was him. "Let me holler at'cha, let me holler at cha!" "Sir?" I had to remain polite and not turn my nose up at him. I didn't think he had enough money to afford me but I knew I'd get in trouble if I didn't stick to behaving as I had been taught. He seemed surprised I actually acknowledged him. I think it may have been the first time a girl actually let him 'holler' at her. He slowly pushed his shopping cart over to me and I met him half-way next to a small alleyway where he had been standing it. The pungent smell of stale urine reeked from the alley. "Aren't you purty?" he asked as he looked me up and down. "Why thank you sir, you are, well you look nice too!" I lied politely. He laughed as if he knew I was full of shit but appreciated the compliment anyway. "You have a purty mouff," he tried to touch my face but I moved back slightly – I didn't have to give it away (unless my brother or father ordered it). "Sorry sir, it will cost ten for a hand job, twenty for a BJ," I tried to be polite and not assume he was broke. However, I guess I was since I only told him the two cheapest options. He laughed through dirt-stained teeth. "How about for a dollar, I can sniff your panties?" he croaked in his throaty voice. "Sorry sir, I am not wearing panties," I even turned around so he could see that the bottom part of my ass was popping out of the skirt. "Oaky doke, then lemme stick a finger in your ass and smell it for a dollah!" He countered. He was so gross and disgusting I was secretly glad he didn't have the money. "I apologize sir, but I have a butt plug in and I can't do anything for less than ten, do you have that much?" I prayed he didn't. "Nah, I don't even have a dollah! Hee-yahaw!" his laugh at his own joke sounded kind of like a bullfrog. "Okay, well if you will excuse me, then Sir" I kept walking. "Now hold up, hold up, I aint done hollerin atcha" it seemed as though he was lonely and he wasn't about to give up on the first girl who gave him the time of day. He moved much faster to walk beside me. "I am sorry Sir, I need to make some money, please?" I pleaded and kept walking faster. "Now hole up, hole up, let me holler? Let me holler, c'mon, lemme holler?" he pleaded and put his hand on my shoulder. I wasn't sure what was going to happen next but I shrugged him off and my heart beat faster. Was I going to get raped like Dad had predicted? I wouldn't find out because a familiar face popped out of one of the stores nearby. It was "Big Mike" the tattoo artist from the county fair and he was leaving a tattoo parlor to have a smoke. "Hey, leave the girl alone!" he chased off the old man with his intimidating presence. "Alright, shit, I was just trying to holler at some body!" he mumbled to himself as the old man went back to his alleyway in defeat. "Hey kid, I remember you, how is your mom?" "She is fine Sir, you work here?" I noticed his tattoo parlor. "I sure do, I am part owner! It seems you work here too?" he lit a cigarette as he motioned to the street casually. He knew exactly what I was doing out here and didn't need to ask. "Yes sir, well you DID give me that tattoo" I said brightly. I didn't mean to sound so optimistic and cheerful like I was always excited – but I couldn't help it. "Oh yeah, the bimbo thing. I definitely remember you and your mom," he shook his head with a laugh. "I see you have a tongue stud now?" He had noticed the little dick shaped tongue stud in my mouth. I had forgotten all about it – although periodically it made me lisp just a little bit like a baby. I opened my mouth wide for him to get a good look at it. "That is fucking hot as hell," He fanned his meaty hands like he was putting out a fire. "Thank you sir," I could not help but sound like an enthusiastic cheerleader – my response probably sounded so white-bread and out of place out on the cold streets of Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd but there it was – my natural squeak. "You know, I hope it doesn't sound creepy, but uh," He wanted to change the subject but I prodded him to ask anyway – nothing shocked me lately. "You will think I am perverted," he laughed dismissively. "Most men are perverts, it is how I make my money Sir," I grinned foolishly. "Damn, you look like Taylor Swift in this light. That cherry red lipstick, your hair and blue eyes, I just can't believe you are out here actually," His compliment made me blush. "That's so sweet and it is not creepy at all, Sir!" I waved him off. "No, the creepy part is I was going to ask if I could fuck you," he looked at me to see if I would be upset and I continued smiling so he added "I would pay of course, I am just saying," he sounded nervous. "Why do you think that would offend me, Sir?" I laughed. "Well, you just have that all-American girl next door look, and because after sneaking around the fair with you guys and the hours I spent tattooing you, I just feel like I know you – more than a customer, like family. I feel like you are my little sister or something and maybe it's wrong to want to do you, you know what I mean?" "Well, I fuck my ACTUAL brother, and let him spank me, so it wouldn't be as weird to me as you think, but I do see what you mean Sir," I giggled warmly. His cigarette dropped out of his mouth in disbelief and hit the ground still smoking. "Yeah, I had wondered about that. You two are blood related?" His question was making him horny – I could see he was excited and uncomfortable at the same time. "We popped out of the same cunt Sir, a year and a few months apart," I assured him – which only made his smile broaden deeper. He was deeply tattooed and bald – he kind of reminded me of the 'comic book guy' from the Simpsons only much tougher looking. "Damn, that is one saucy mouth you have on you too!" His tone told me he liked how I talked. "I am not allowed to call it a vagina, only proper and polite ladies have those. Whores like my mom and I have to call it a cunt, Sir" I explained the rule – in as sweet a way as I could. "Can you call it a gash?" he laughed. "I think my owners probably would allow that. My mom gets away with saying pussy all the time, Sir." I laughed. "Owners, huh?" His eyebrows went up and down as if to imply 'please tell me more!' "Yes sir, my dad and brother are my owners," I sighed and added "So is Rahjid at the motel just down the street." "That fucking asshole?" He lit another cigarette and stomped the old one into the dirty sidewalk. "It's just for a week or so, if I am good then I go back to normal basically," I smiled. "So you don't want to be owned?" He took a drag from his cigarette as he considered me for a moment. I had to think hard about that question. A big part of me did not mind this arrangement. I know that another part of me wondered how I could feel that way and if I was just second guessing mom's apparent desire to continue with the discipline. He could tell from the indecision on my face that I was having a hard time formulating an answer so he waved off the question and asked "complicated, eh?" "You could say that sir," I laughed softly. "You are a good person, that exists in a world solely designed to grind down good people." He observed quietly. "Why do you say that Sir?" I wasn't fishing for a compliment but I was really curious what he meant. "I can just see the goodness wafting off you, like an angel," He said while possibly thinking about someone else he knew. "I think it's just the blonde hair and blue eyes," I was being modest – I know I am a good person, but good people don't brag. "I can be a devil too," I chuckled. "So would you mind having sex with me?" He got back to his real question without much of a segue way. "Yes sir, whatever you would like. Can we do it in your studio?" I was not offended in the least that, that is what he wanted. I was looking forward to a little more money to add to the pot. "Well, actually," he paused again before I leaned in close to him and got him to go ahead and say what was on his mind. "I really like your butt." "I am glad you do, Sir. I am looking forward to you playing with it," I wasn't – but I was looking forward to the money and I didn't mind him playing with my ass. "No, what I mean is well, do you do, you know?" It was funny this mountain of a man was all tied up with bashfulness trying to ask me a question. I had no idea what he was asking so he finally came out and said "You know, sex in the butt?" "Yes sir, you can fuck me in the ass, but I need one hundred, would that be okay?" I felt so awful asking him for money but he seemed delighted and I fluttered my eyes and gave him a flirtatious wink of approval when I saw how happy he was. "Hell fucking yes it would be okay," he escorted me into his shop. It was small and there were examples of his tattoo art all over the wall. "You have to climb on top, I don't want to crush you," he smiled. I was thankful for that but answered politely "Whatever you want, Sir" as he guided me to a small chair in the back separated by a divan where he did his work. He pointed to some 'flash' on the wall that I recognized immediately. It was the WHORE my mom and I had on our ass cheeks. "No one else has been brave enough to get this, but a lot of people have admired it!" he hummed with pride as he looked over his own work prominently displayed above the tattoo chair. "If someone comes in, just pretend I am giving you a tattoo, okay?" I looked around at the quiet shop and wondered how likely that was – especially considering it was probably around 9 P.M. I unzipped his jeans and guided him to sit back in the leather recliner as I removed his pants. "Wow, full service!" he was really pleased I was undressing him. "Actually, I have a favor to ask you," he was already hard as I pulled his dick out of his jeans and helped him pull them down and off. "Go on?" he was delighted and stepping out of his massive sneakers while I shimmied out of my skirt. "I am not allowed to remove my butt plug myself," it sounded so weird to say that out loud to a stranger and I could tell from the look on his face he was confused but turned on at the same time. "You have a butt plug in?" His eyebrows were raised like his cock. I turned around and spread my ass cheeks after pulling off my top and bending over to set it down. "Yes Sir, it's my license, one of my brother's rules is I am not allowed to take it out myself," I wasn't looking at him but he was breathing hard and I could hear him touching his dick. "So I get to take it out?" He sounded like he was skeptical but very happy to oblige. "If you want to fuck me in the ass, yes Sir" I was surprisingly not as nervous and embarrassed now that I had said it out loud. I added "I am not allowed to put it back in either, so I have to ask you to put it back in when we are done, Sir" "What if I didn't?" he gingerly touched my butt plug with his finger and turned it slightly like he was turning the knob on a radio. "Then I would beg you, and if you still didn't I'd be severely punished sir," I could hear the sound of his hand furiously pulling on his dick as he toyed with my butt plug. "You aren't even allowed to clean it?" He enjoyed my predicament and was teasing my ass with the plug inching it out while playing with his cock and pushing it back in slightly. "I am expected to clean it actually Sir," I let him have his fun probing my ass gently with the butt plug. "I thought you couldn't touch it?" He had slowed his pace of masturbating from the sound of things. "I can't with my fingers, but I am allowed to clean it with my mouth Sir, you can put it in my mouth while you fuck my ass," I gently reminded him what he was paying for. "Gah, Gobba-Goooo!!!!" he crowed and I felt a little bit of his war cum hit my inner thigh. "You motherfucking bitch, you planned this all along didn't you?" He was suddenly angry – here he had called me an angel with a heart of gold and now he was genuinely mad. I was really shocked. "I don't understand Sir?" I remained in position – his fingers had left my butt plug without removing it. "You talk dirty and get me all hot and then I blow my fucking load before I get balls deep in that dook-hole, that's the scam, right?" He was angry. I looked over my shoulder at him "Nothing could be further from the truth, you can still fuck my ass Sir," I offered generously. "What? After I fucking came?" he was already pulling out a tissue to wipe himself off. "May I have that cum Sir?" I asked. "What?" he was still disturbed but his initial ire had calmed quite a bit. I turned around and kneeled between his legs and carefully scraped every gob of cum from his dick and finger onto my lips while he watched me – a smile growing broadly on his face. I opened a condom wrapper with my fingers and spit the cum into the empty condom wrapper and smiled at him. "Okay, another rule, right?" he asked knowingly and I nodded it was – and all the initial frustration he had at not cumming inside me had evaporated. His anger had subsided and had been replaced with a blissful peace as he massaged my spine and back muscles with his meaty hands – exploring my body. "You have such a sexy back, did you know that?" He asked me with a tone of admiration. "I can almost imagine you in a strapless gown at your prom, how the boys would want to eat you up – yummy." I really hadn't ever looked at my back and had no idea it was a part of me that could be considered 'sexy'. "No one has ever told me that before Sir. Most men focus on my face, ass, tits and cunt Sir." I stated what I felt was obvious. "I really like how you call me Sir, it makes me feel powerful. I like how a sweet little pop tart like you is so giving and obedient, it's fucking hot." he spanked my ass cheek hard with a powerful swipe of his bear-like arms but there was a playfulness to the pop and subsequent sting. "Thank you, Sir." I looked up at him and held his gaze. The eye contact really seemed to turn him on more. His flaccid dick started to come to life and I kissed the edge of his hairy and tightly wound balls lovingly. Just then I heard the jingle of a bell over the door – a customer. I looked at him in shock – I was completely naked and he had his pants down around his ankles. He smiled down at me and whispered to me to relax. "Hi, it's nice to see you, Ma'am" he said nervously to the stranger who just walked in. My stomach did double back flips - he had a customer! "Cut the shit, Mikey. I see you started without me tonight," it was no customer. The voice was the vampy and seductive voice of Maya and with my back turned to her I could feel her presence behind me in the tone. She stroked my hair and pet my head gently, "You and your mother are fucking a lot of my regulars," there was a vindictive subtext to her observation that seethed with a warning not to continue doing that. "I am sorry, Ma'am," I apologized immediately without hesitation but continued kneeling beneath Tattoo Mike. "No you aren't," she observed with a wry laugh. I was silent – unsure of what to say. I felt my throat go dry and my hands become clammy at suddenly being put on the spot that way. "If Mikey asks you to come in here and fuck him again for money, would you?" Maya had a practiced way of sounding pleasant and dangerous at the same time, which made Delilah and Cathy Griffin seem like amateurs by comparison. I wasn't sure what to say. I was to fuck any man at any time if he had the cash – that was the deal. "You have me there, Ma'am". I conceded her point. "So you see beanpole, you aren't sorry at all. You would suck this fat boy's pathetic little cock again for cash because you are a greasy little whore – even though you now know he is my regular, wouldn't you?" I could feel the length of one of her sharp immaculately coifed fingernails run along the inner length of my chin and my stomach coiled up in fear. I wanted to say that after this weekend I wouldn't have too because that is when this all ends – but she wouldn't understand and I wasn't sure if it really was going to end. I know my Dad had said it would but I didn't want to get my hopes up that all would return to normal so quickly. "I am just fucking with you Julie Andrews," she smiled and dropped the dangerous arrogance in her voice. Big Mike had been frozen in place – in just as much awe and fear as I had been. When she revealed she had just been playing with me he became much more at ease. I wasn't sure who Julie Andrews was – but I wasn't about to ask. "I don't know what you are smiling about fat-boy, you aren't off the hook," Maya could just as quickly turn on the aloof voice as turn it off. "Oh?" he asked bashfully. "Don't give me an 'Oh', Mikey. You will pay her and you will pay me for a regular visit," She insisted with a sexy but demanding voice. "B-But you didn't do anything?" He stammered. "Be thankful I did not," She placed the spike of her six inch heel between my nose and his balls with expert grace and precision. "I can't pay both of you, I've barely made anything today," Mike started to talk with a lisp – I wasn't sure if that was intentional or he was just nervous. Clearly, she had more of an intimidating effect on the mountain of a man than I thought. "Wah, Wah, Wah, Cry me a river, you big baby. Do I look like I give two shits about your problems?" "No Ma'am, you don't," He was respectful and considerate but his confidence had evaporated at the sight of her. "Why should I pay you though, because you did not make me cum tonight though?" "Mikey, do you want a time out?" I was still kneeling at Mike's dick when Maya asked this question. There was a long uncomfortable pause and I thought perhaps she had pushed him too far. I finally heard him answer quietly "No, Ma'am". "Well that was a little slow in coming, pull your jeans all the way to your ankles, and waddle your fat ass over to the corner," she scolded him. There was another uncomfortable pause but without one more word he stood up "This is not right, not in front of the girl," he was referring to me. I guess he didn't even know my name. "She knows you are a naughty boy, and naughty boys get punished don't they Mikey?" she challenged him back. "Yes Ma'am, but when we do it, I am just paying you to play a game with me, it's not for." Mike yelped OW as Maya struck his balls with her hand. She had white velvet gloves on –the kind one might wear to a fancy dinner or gala event. "You will get your session, and take your punishment like a good little boy. Now pay the slut so she can get out of here, unless you want to pay her to stay and watch?" He didn't want me to stay and watch – that was abundantly clear. He reached into the cash register and gave me five twenty dollar bills before being marched to stand in the corner like a giant over-sized baby. Maya whispered to me "Good night, Shug" as she pinched my butt while I finished dressing adding "Seriously though, stay away from my regulars or I will cut you," it sounded like she was joking but I really could not be sure. I agreed and stepped back out into the darkness of Martin Luther King Blvd. I could probably describe the next few tricks in painstaking detail but most of them all fall into the same general pattern. First, a man will slow down and drive on past me – they may honk or they may not - I wave hello no matter what. At this time of night, a single male in a car who is driving out here is usually 'shopping' or he is thinking about it at the very least. I am sure he is checking to see if I am missing an eye or a leg or something when he does his first pass. They will sometimes do one or two more passes to make sure I am for real and then they will pull into a parking lot of a drug store or gas station. I will walk up to the passenger side and we will play a coy, little game of 'guess if I am a cop or not'. I will ask if he can give me a ride some place and he will get a little nervous and say something about how pretty or young I am to be out here doing this. I will politely accept the compliment and then get in the car – then I ask him to touch me. I let him feel under my shirt – although some go for under my skirt. This usually satisfies him that I am not a friendly member of the local law enforcement acting as a decoy and then he will ask where we can 'do this at'. I run down the same line that I have a room at the cabana or I can suck their dick right here for twenty, give them a hand job for ten, fifty for half and half or one hundred for the 'whole enchilada' – all holes with a condom. Most of them opt for the cheapest option and get a hand job. I actually prefer the BJ because when it is a hand job I never know quite what to say. I sound ridiculous talking dirty – at least when I hear myself out loud trying to talk like a nasty whore. I made ninety dollars in the next hour just pulling off old man after old man. Each one reminded me of my grandfather – a kindly old man with dentures and glasses. It always ends with them telling me how pretty I am and looking at me with some regret and shame as if they feel bad about what they just had me do to them. They all tell me that I should get off the streets and that a 'nice girl like you doesn't belong in this place' and I just smile and walk out because I've got their spent condom between my teeth. As I was walking to drop off the condom in my mouth and the cash from the last trick I turned towards my brother who whistled for me to come over to where he and Dad were standing outside of the cabana. "Hustle that fat ass over here, Ass face," he laughed as he egged me on to start jogging over to him. I complied with my 'master's wishes' but I remember having a slightly lemony expression on my face. I guess this is where the saying 'Oh Brother!' comes from. "How ya doing, dipshit?" Chris asked me jokingly. "Gthfood Sthfir," I said gingerly around the condom oozing a small amount of cum in my mouth. "Oh goodie, our little whore IS working tonight. I thought you were out partying and socializing," he laughed at me but I stood at attention accepting his mockery. "How much did you make on that last job?" Dad asked me – his tone a little more somber than Chris. I held up the ten I had folded in the palm of my hand for them to see. "That hand of yours is more popular than your pussy and mouth - probably need to clean them more," Dad's somber tone was replaced by sarcasm like my brothers. I wanted to put my hands on my hips and demand they do more than act like the two old men who sit up in the balcony of the Muppet show and complain about it day and night. I was, after all, the one out there taking the risks and squeezing the dicks until they came for money. However, this is what they were supposed to be doing – being stern disciplinarians. I nodded obediently to accept my father's criticism of me. "Did you lose your license yet?" he squinted his eyes at me as he looked me up and down. I shook my head back and forth that I hadn't. "I am surprised - with an asshole as wide as your mother's, you would think your license just plops right out and clanks on the pavement," Dad laughed at his own joke. "When one of your Masters asks you if you have your license, should we take your word for it that you have it up your ass where it belongs?" Chris reminded me. I looked at him for a split second before turning around and raising my skirt up over my lower back. I was wondering if this rule applied to if we were at the mall or someplace crowded –instead of wondering why I was allowing them to treat me this way at all. "You have a big ass Sis, but in the darkness of the parking lot, you need to do a little better," Chris chuckled while I held my cheeks apart and spread my legs. "Your nose should be as close to the asphalt as possible, like a V. I want to see the glint of that shiny diamond reflecting back at me," My dad instructed and I obeyed. "Shine bright like a diamond, diamonds in the sky," Chris sang a Rhiannon song to himself imitating the timber of her voice as they both stood behind me – I could feel their gaze staring at me. There was a long silence before Dad broke it by asking my brother "Chris, do you want to fuck your sister tonight, or should we tie her up here at the motel with her cunt of a mother?" "Let this little prissy-plum get to sleep all night in a bed?" I could tell from Chris's exaggerated tone that he was trying to scare me or goof on me or both. "Hell no, after she drains you of cum, put her out in the yard with Roscoe, so she can fuck him too," Dad giggled and slapped my ass cheek hard to punctuate his joke. I wanted to look behind me and give them a 'Oh please, get over yourself' look. However, I just kept pushing my nose ever closer to the gritty asphalt – so I didn't end up wearing weights tonight. "Which do you prefer?" Dad flicked the fake diamond jewel on the base of my butt plug to get my attention. "Sleep in a nice cozy warm bed tonight, or get tied up outside all night so you can start whoring in the morning?" I did not get a chance to answer – and even if I had it would have been a limited response with the rapidly dissolving condom clenched in my teeth. "I do believe your sister's drippy little cunt is wet – I guess that is your answer then, she wants to be tied up outside tonight," Dad stroked his finger along my slit and licked his lips. "Savor the flavor, huh Dad?" Chris joked to my father. "Finger looking good, son," Dad quipped right back at him. "You do know she has been getting fucked all night though, right?" Chris teased my father in the same tone he had been teasing me. My unexpected giggle at his joke caused the condom I had in my mouth to drop to the pavement. I knew I was in trouble just from how their silence hit me – as if they were shocked I would dare to laugh at their private joke. "I ... I am sorry Master," I squealed before I even felt my father's finger being jammed deeply into my pussy and fishing around. "Oh you are? Sorry for what? Laughing at me or dropping your cum flavored breath mint?" Dad didn't wait for a response. He stabbed his finger into my mouth so that I could taste the same thing he just had. "It's not as bad for HER, she does not mind the taste of her own spoo," Chris laughed as my dad literally brushed my front teeth with his finger to prove a point. I had clearly wounded his ego with my little outburst. When he finished I apologized and apologized again just to be on the safe side. "I am sorry Master, it is just that Chris's joke was kind of funny, I didn't mean to laugh out of turn, and drop the condom I was supposed to be holding Sir, that was my mistake!" I quickly owned up to my own shortcoming and mistake – something I had learned from countless affirmations to do right away. "Talk, talk, talk, she tells us with words, but doesn't show us with action this one," Rahjid was walking over to where we were. "You say how you did not mean fuck up, but then you fuck up again and again, what is your word if your action do not tell the same story?" I had a butt plug up my ass bent over holding my bare cheeks apart in a dirty motel parking lot – and he doubted my COMMITMENT to this? Were these not the actions of someone who was trying? I felt a tremendous desire to stand up to him and say all of that but I just submissively agreed and said I would try to do better. "There is no try, only do!" Chris slapped my ass and ordered me to pick the dropped condom up with my mouth. I had to lean forward and get it with only my tongue off the pavement. "Now say, 'I won a math debate real fast'!" his tone was teasing but he slapped my ass again to let me know it was a real order. "I won a maffdebate," My brother had made me say some pretty stupid or heinous things – I had never even heard of a math debate before. I did not question his order, but I hadn't said it as fast as he wanted so I received another butt slapping for my failure to amuse. "Faster, bitch!" he demanded with another slap to my ass. "I wonna maffdebate," this time it sounded like masturbate and it finally sunk in what he was telling me to say. He laughed and replied "I bet you do, you are horny as hell, maybe after you finish fucking all these tricks I'll let you get five minutes to play Angry Birds on that pussy of yours." Ironically, I had the game Angry Birds on my old cellphone and never played that game. I had heard how popular it was but now Chris had my old cell phone and I had his crappier one – the one I am typing this journal into. The funniest thing about his latest humiliating order is he could have just ordered me to say I wanted to masturbate or actually made me play with myself out in the parking lot in front of everyone. The boundaries we used to have about what was mandatory and what was extra-credit for stars had long since become blurry. "Oy Poppy, why you gotta be so mean?" Doris asked while chewing her gum and fanning her nails as she emerged from her own cabana with a trick. "I would never and I mean never let my clients treat me like you let them treat you girl," she addressed me. "Well, you aren't a stuck up, rigid, goody-goody like my sister either," Chris answered her. "That is true," Doris was the kind of person that once you disagreed with her – you were going to talk to her for a while until you stopped talking or you agreed with her however. "You still don't gotta be so mean though." "Mean? Are we mean to you, shit bucket?" My dad's tone was condescending. I could hear Doris's trick walking away from the odd spectacle just outside his cabana – he had finished his business and probably had no desire to find out what the story behind this was. "Yes Sir, you are mean to me," I answered my father as plainly as I could with the condom in my mouth. "My mother and I asked them to be mean to us, Ma'am." I knew that sounded odd so I explained further despite how gingerly I had to hold the condom between my teeth. "If they were nice to me, I would chicken out and not be a very good whore, Ma'am." "How do you know? Have you ever tried walking the streets without all of this?" I couldn't see Doris's face but I could tell she meant the discipline and humiliation by her tone. "You want her to be like you? Lazy and with attitude, Miss Thang?" Rahjid challenged Doris. "Sure, why not? There aint nothing wrong with me, baby. I earn and have fun while I do it. I am always being classy," her thick Puerto Rican accent and the fact we were all standing in a broke-down motel made the part about being classy sound like a joke – but she was not kidding. "Shit, you better keep to your own bidness," I was still facing the asphalt and bent over at the waist – but I could hear the unmistakable throaty voice of Rahjid's other girl Ronnie chastising Doris. "Oh, like you always stay out of MY biznass?" Doris replied and quickly the two girls – who were fast friends were off and arguing on their own. "Does the condom in your mouth still have cum?" Rahjid asked while ignoring the drama developing between his two other whores. "Not much Sir, I am sorry," I offered. "There you go with sorry again, but you waste too much time out here and suck out all the cum for yourself. You must be getting hungry?" he asked curtly. "Well she shouldn't be thirsty, that's for sure," My brother kicked the back of my knee to tease me but I held my position obediently. "Yes Master, I would be very grateful to be permitted something to eat AND drink if you don't mind," I was famished and didn't want piss to be the only thing I hydrated with from now on. I had learned to jump on any chance to eat or drink whenever given the opportunity – even if I wasn't hungry. You never know when you will get permission again. "Fine, my wife makes special Indian delicacy, fish curry, you can turn in your condom and money and ask her for a bowl and some water," Rahjid instructed very plainly. I wasn't sure if I could stand up – I looked over my shoulder at my father and brother for a sign that I was permitted to go now. I know Rahjid is supposed to be my 'master' but I still didn't see him as an equal to Dad and Chris. "Now wait a second, my sister needs us to be mean to her. She said it herself," Chris's words kept me frozen in place and bent over. I had already spent a good five minutes with my skirt pulled up in the parking lot and no one had been shocked – another minute wouldn't change that. I do have to admit though that it was still freshly uncomfortable every time I had to expose myself in public – wondering what would happen and who might see me. My principal from my own high school had been here for crying out loud! Was there anyone in my life who did NOT know what a slut I was by now? And for that matter every intimate detail and contour of my entire body? "Yes sir," I agreed with my brother but added "You provide discipline and incentive to continue to be pleasing out here" since I hadn't meant to be mean just for mean sake. I think I am like my mother in that I can't help clarifying an important detail even when no one asks. "You think getting served an Indian delicacy is discipline?" Dad chimed in on the same train of logic that Chris was on. Who said anything about being SERVED a delicacy? When he said it like that – there was no way I could say it was discipline. "I could eat it on the floor, Sir." I offered as way of suggestion- trying to be helpful. I received a slap to my ass from my father and a stern warning. "Already these other whores are setting a bad example for you. I know your hearing WAS working before. I didn't ask you how you could eat. I asked you if that sounded like discipline to you, Ass Face?" "No it did not, Master" I felt my lip getting pouty and my stomach starting to churn. I had spent weeks getting in trouble for anticipating questions and my father's response had always been the same. I was to answer the question asked – not anticipate the point of it. I have had a lot of difficulty breaking that habit and I've been spanked, poked, laughed at and teased for weeks because of it. The question I was wondering was whether or not I was upset that I had been busted for making another mistake or if it was dawning on me that my brother was probably going to make me do something disgusting and humiliating to get the privilege to eat. The weird thing is – I am such an over-achiever I think it was making a mistake that bothered me more. I hate getting caught legitimately making a mistake that I have been told over and over to stop. I am almost 100% cured of instinctively making duck-lip faces now for instance –and all it took was weeks of humiliation and degradation and the total loss of popularity at school, lol. I guess I can add sarcasm to my list of shortcomings. "I did let you enjoy a cheeseburger earlier, and now you say you are hungry again?" My brother reminded me of the disgusting way he hand fed me a cheeseburger after I sucked his cock earlier. "I've learned never to turn down a chance to piss, shit or eat when offered from one of my betters Sir. I never know when I will get the opportunity again." That theme had been reinforced in our heads for the past few weeks – to learn to be grateful for what is offered and not be too stingy to accept it. "Good girl," my brother seemed delighted by my response. "You can stand up straight now," He offered as a sort of reward and I immediately stood up straight. "I didn't say drop your skirt down, keep holding it up, so we have something to look at other than your face," he insisted and I complied by keeping my skirt pulled up behind my back. "I fed the bitch last time, and Rahjid just wanted to make her eat fish curry, which admittedly does sound kind of disgusting. So Dad, how about it? What would you prefer she do?" Chris asked my father. "My natural instinct is to have her go dumpster diving for some scraps in order to save money," Dad was ever the pragmatist. "However, we can't have the two of them eat from the garbage for an entire week. It just isn't that nutritious." "Hey, you haven't seen school lunch, it is probably a step up," My brother – ever the comedian. "True, and I've seen her turds, the dog food isn't fully digesting, little pieces of it are embedded in there." Dad replied – painting a very disgusting picture in my mind. "Another good reason to supervise the two of them when they take a shit, we can observe little changes to their diet," Chris laughed at me. He spoke about me and mom like we were truly house pets. "You need to shit and piss too?" Dad asked me. "Yes sir, I will try to go!" I probably didn't – but the buttplug always made you feel like you might have to go at any time. "Fine, you can do it IN the bowl of fish curry, but go get it and bring it back here. Then your brother and I will supervise you. Drop that condom in it as well, you've sucked out all the cum from it, but it should add a little flavor to your stew." I looked at my Dad in disbelief - Was he serious? A hard slap to my face told me that I shouldn't have dared turn to him with a questioning glance. "I was just going to say thank you Master for allowing me an opportunity to empty my ass pussy and fill my tummy at the same time," I quickly tried to cover for myself. "No you didn't, I could see on your face, you thought you might be too good to do as you were told?" "No Sir, I am not too good. I am just a dumb slut Sir," I admitted. "Then pull your skirt all the way up in the front and leave it that way until you get back to show us how dumb a slut you are," Dad didn't even wait for me to finish rolling my skirt up before turning his back to me and walking inside the cabana. I smiled at Rahjid and walked with him to his office. "My wife's fish curry is very popular. You may actually like, but it is an acquired taste," I would come to discover later that it was sold as cheap cat food to the people who lived around the neighborhood. I would also come to learn that it could give someone all sorts of gas and loose bowels. Much to my brother's delight. Is it too late to enter that math debate? I really want to win it – if you know what I mean. ------- Chapter 36: Wendy's Journal: I would offer moral support but I have very questionable morals Note to reader: This is an excerpt of Wendy's journal from Wednesday approximately 8:45 pm from her perspective. The events take place after her husband introduces her to the S.H.I.T system. In order to increase readability, some of the dialogue exchanged was altered to appear in a 'narrative' story format. CASH EARNINGS WEDNESDAY WENDY: $385 JAMIE: $535 I was wearing a slit skirt, fuck me heels and a half-top that said "I love black cock". I couldn't have looked more like a slut if I had tried. The needles my husband and son had removed from me hurt worse the way they pulled them out than they had going in my body and I was throbbing all over. I was also strangely aroused. I know in part because of all the blood pumping in my chest due to the induced lactation. I think it elevates my heart rate or my estrogen or something – and it's been fucking with my perspective on things. I would have to question if I had just signed up my daughter and myself for an agonizing week of fucking, humiliation and pain for all the right reasons at a later date. Right now I had to get back to the guy in the Lincoln Continental who had been kind enough to wait for me to get my new 'rules' such as they were. The S.H.I.T system – somehow I felt Chris may have come up with that acronym and that Bill was the one to fill in the details and try to make it work - It sounded like it started out as a joke and that had Chris written all over it. The guy was gone – no doubt snagged by my competition out here. Ronnie, Doris and Maya were already out working now. I would have to compete not only with them but my own hot little daughter who was going to do her level best to outperform me. If there was one thing I was sure of about Jamie – it was that she was at her core the type of teacher's pet who always goes for extra credit even when she has straight A's and that was going to apply to her in college, her work, and her life in every aspect, even in our current situation where we are whoring ourselves out. In almost forty years of living I can say that I used to be exactly like that and still am in a way. I am just a little bit more of a realist about sweating the small stuff now than I was when I was her age. I have learned to let the small things go. Having weights hung from my clit – is not small stuff though and I had better find another customer and fast. I saw Jamie was already walking in one direction – so I headed off in the opposite direction. I could feel the small lead weight as it dangled from my clit at every step. It was tugging and pulling down while swinging from side to side into my thighs. A constant reminder that I was already one down on my husband's shit list from where Jamie was. She and I are very competitive, but I wanted to avoid at all costs being a living Jacob Marley carrying the weight of all my transgressions around with me like the Ghost of Christmas Past and I'm quite sure that Jamie feels the same way so I am going to really have to get creative. I probably shouldn't get too wrapped up in trying to think about where this little game of my husband's creation is going to go. I just know there is no way I can let my daughter continue as a slave and not be one too. I might feel differently in another week – I know I feel differently about a lot of things since this all started a few weeks ago. Things I would have never considered a remote possibility of ever doing with force, let alone voluntarily are now so common place that it's going to be hard to keep upping the game like Master Bill and Master Chris want. Jamie had agreed to the terms of this rather easily. Had she been waiting for me to make my usual demands for clarification and checks and balances in the men's authority? I was so busy thinking I almost missed my son's whistle for me to walk back over to where he was. "Hustle turd-bait, I want to see those tits bounce when you run!" He yelled across the parking lot and I grinned but ran to where they were. "Go inside, get naked on all fours and start playing with yourself to get your juices worked up. I feel like fucking you Mom." Chris said right in front of his father as if this were totally normal. "Should I remove my passport, Master?" I was very surprised by this order. I had just seen my daughter suck him off twice to completion and he was ready for a third? He was going to make a girl very happy someday. He had never actually fucked me. This would be the first time. I've sat on his lap and he has touched me, played with me, I've licked him everywhere but this is a new one for us. "You sound kind of eager, cow tits" Bill noticed that my tone had come across a bit eager and there was some scorn in his voice over it. "I am always eager to please my Masters, will you please fuck me too Sir?" I was a little embarrassed that Bill had picked up on my tone and wondered if there was something more to my wanting my son to actually fuck me than there was. In truth – I had no idea. "No, leave the passport up your ass. You aren't to touch it. Men can dig it out of your ass if they want to see that mud flap of yours, now get inside before I change my mind, bitch." Chris's comedic tone was missing. There was a 'let's get this over with' tone to his voice that surprised me. Maybe I was reading too much into it – but I hustled inside and quickly stripped and got on all fours. I began to play with myself as instructed. I rarely ever masturbated before this all began and if I did it was with lit candles in the bath-tub surrounded by pleasing scents and soft light- It was not on the disgusting floor of a cheap motel and in this position. However, I had learned in the last few weeks to take my pleasures where I can. I had been ordered to masturbate and by god I was going to pleasure myself as much as possible and in only ways I know how to do it. I stroked around my clit and tugged the tiny string that held the weight in my fingers. I was able to use its weight to stimulate myself. What was taking Chris so long? I didn't mind fucking him – it was his right after all and I would say that a big part of me was kind of flattered. However, he was cutting into my money making time and Jamie was out there earning – so she would have an unfair advantage. It was however his right to make me wait and I had definitely learned some measure of patience that I didn't have before this began. A few weeks ago- if I could eat it, buy it or read it in 30 seconds or less then I wasn't interested. Now, I was waiting for his whim and I would learn to amuse myself in the silence by playing with my pussy and tapping on my butt plug until I had a subtle orgasm. It wasn't like Jamie's flip-flopping around – mine was like a gentle rain on a cloudy day. It washed over me in a way that eased my mind and made me think of nothing but comfort and sensuality. I lost track of time. The door opened and I didn't even look up. "I am ready Master," I continued to finger myself. My son and husband both walked in and said nothing. They started to undress while I continued to finger myself. "Are you both going to fuck me?" I asked while in the midst of my own private pleasure garden. They said nothing as they stepped of their clothes. I heard a knock on the door. It was probably Jamie with a trick – I was so relaxed that I wasn't alarmed in the least. I assumed they would either tell her to fuck him somewhere else or let him come in and do it right next to me. I didn't really care which. "Oh Mr. Dragovich from school, this is a little unexpected." My husband had his undershirt and pants on as he talked to someone on the other side of the screen door. I could tell he said "From school" as a hint to me that maybe I should stop playing with myself. I didn't though – I hadn't been told to stop and I was actually enjoying myself. "Mr. Taylor, it is nice to see you. I just wondered if you knew your daughter was walking the streets tonight?" I could hear the voice on the other side of the door and began to sober up from the passion I had fallen into. I looked at Chris for permission to stop but he shook his head no. "No?" Bill's voice of mock surprise at that little revelation made Chris and I laugh a little. Chris was already putting his pants back on but he hadn't let me stop fingering myself. "Oh, Chris Taylor, you are here too." The man on the other side of the door was not surprised at all to see Chris. "Is this whore giving you any trouble?" Chris joked about his sister. I couldn't see her from where I was on the floor but it was fairly obvious. "You Taylor's are certainly one of the most unusual families I have at Cherry Lawn," Dragovich laughed. I wondered who was more unusual than us and how? There had been scandals of indiscretion and swingers in our communities and while I think the Griffins and Millers might be freaky, and the Waxermans are their own kind of strange – surely we are at least in the top three most unusual families? I quietly laughed at my own joke. "What exactly are you doing out here? Khal Drogo," Chris showed contempt for Mr. Dragovich. I wasn't sure who Khal Drogo was – probably some character from a video game. "What I am doing out here is none of your business, Chris." Mr. Dragovich explained defensively. I was playing with myself by fingering around my clit and stroking my lips but I was more intent on listening to this conversation than getting off now. "I think it is my business, I don't imagine you drove all the way out here for a sale at J-Mart did you?" Chris wasn't being very subtle that he thought the man was out here to find a hooker. "Chris, I am concerned about your sister. Jamie you don't have to behave like this," Mr. Dragovich was obviously addressing my behavior. Oh yes she DID have to behave this way – after all, I had just agreed for both of us that we did. "Yes she does, tell him why sis." Chris thought the same way too. "Because I am a whore Sir, and you are the boss of me." I could barely hear my daughter's voice – I could tell she was embarrassed - It was not her usual 'Go team spirit' vim and vigor spin. "No you aren't a whore. You don't have to do what your brother tells you," Mr. Dragovich was being reasonable. A part of me wanted him to talk her out of doing this, but I knew he couldn't- not with our money situation held over our heads. This had long since stopped being about payback for what we did to the guys weeks ago. "Yes she does, show him Sis. Turn around," Chris toyed with his sister. "Stick it out, Even white boys got to shout," Chris was singing 'Baby Got Back' and if I was not mistaken I could hear him smack his sister's butt. "Chris!" Mr. Dragovich was stunned by the sound of his voice. "Look, relax Khal Drago, it's cool," Chris was relaxed and casual. "No it is not cool," Mr. Dragovich was highly offended. This was making it increasingly difficult to play with myself but I kept at it. I mean some duties are more fun than others – and this is one of the few ones I didn't mind as much. "You would not be looking at my sister's sweet, sweet ass If you weren't a man. You came down here because you have needs like anyone else." Chris explained. He had grown so much in the last few weeks – and I have to admit I was proud of how logical and reasonable he could be when he wanted too. That would go a long way with me if he were on my team when I was a Project Leader. If they were talking I couldn't hear anything for a moment so I quietly moved closer. I knew I might and would most likely get punished but I was willing to risk it. I wanted to hear the conversation and I suppose I am a busy-body at heart. "That may be true, but not with my students, Chris," I could see him standing there now at well over six foot tall. He looked so much more impressive in stature from down on the ground. I decided to take a risk and get Jamie off the hook. If I was to be punished – so be it. "I am not one of your students Sir, would you like to fuck me instead?" I stood in the cabana wearing nothing but my heels, dog collar and the lead weight dangling from my pussy. "Mrs. Taylor?" He seemed impressed, shocked and a little off guard that I had been there all along. "I am not a student at your school. I am a full grown woman. Would you like to play with me, Sir?" I had been outside completely naked already. The low light of the parking lot and the fact of where we were made that seem less scary than it should have been. I sauntered over to him and playfully brushed his chin with my finger. "Why are you doing this?" Mr. Dragovich was nervous and he began to loosen his tie. I felt like one of those mother/daughter stories from Penthouse magazine. The kind that begins "I don't normally write to your letter's column. I just had to tell you about the time I went over to my neighbor's house to borrow a cup of sugar and her teenage daughter and her answered the door..." Not that I read those stories mind you. I just know about the typical format of them. I would have assumed they were too fantastic to believe – but here I was starring in my own personal story. "I love cock, so does my daughter. I promise, I will treat you extra special." I rubbed his cock and led him into the cabana. "Come on Sir, I am extra horny." The question on my mind wasn't what would I do with the fallout to this if I run into him at school functions. It wasn't even that I probably should not be strutting my stuff naked out in a parking lot. I was wondering if Chris and his father would still be in the mood to fuck me after I was done. I also wondered if I was doing this to end an uncomfortable situation for them, or because I had worked myself into a lather and wanted cock inside of me? Had I become that big of a cock-queen that I wanted dick bad enough to use any excuse to get it? I really didn't know what was going through my head. All I knew was that I as leading my kid's principal into the cabana to fuck him. If Jamie and the guys continued to talk – I wasn't listening. "It's ten dollars for a hand job, twenty for a BJ, fifty for half and half or one hundred for everything, Sir." I smiled at him. "Oh?" He looked at me trying to size me up. I wondered if he thought this was going to be a freebie? I know this is going to be hard to understand – because I shouldn't be proud to be a whore but I was actually insulted he thought it was going to be free. "You seem like you will want to go all the way, Sir." I touched his shirt and began to unbutton it so I could slide my hand in to rub his hairy, broad chest. "Well, I don't normally do this," he said trying to hide his discomfort and the rising boner in his khaki pants. I could tell he still had on what he had worn while he had been at school. "I don't either, Sir." I smiled at him and bent over so he could see my bare ass as I looked over my shoulder. "Can I ask about that weight hanging down like that?" He seemed uncomfortable. "You could, but would you rather do it with your dick inside of me? Si." I turned to rub my leg on his leg and stroke his cheek with my hand. "You make a strong case, Mrs. Taylor," He swallowed hard. I felt his resistance about to crumble and he seemed like the type who would go for the full hundred. I can't leave behind my analytical side – ten hand jobs takes a lot longer than one full fuck for the same money. "You can call her cow-tits!" Chris yelled through the screen door. They were listening to our discussion. That realization suddenly made him very nervous and want to bolt. "No wait, you can. Squeeze them hard, see." I tried to block him from the door and show him my boobs like a new distraction. "Principal Banks got involved in something like this and he had to resign. The Griffin girl is probably in the closet taking pictures. I should uh ... be going." I had lost another sale and it was humiliating because the guys heard every word. Bill stood in the door way. "Dragovich, you and I were on the Rams back in the day, right?" "Yeah, I think we did." Mr. Dragovich agreed but in a 'how is that relevant?' kind of way. "Rams Honor, there is nothing going on here but fucking my wife. I tell you what - the first one is free. You can have her for fifteen minutes, how is that?" "Hah, it actually makes me even more skeptical that you don't want my money." He grinned at Bill. "Hey, I said the first one is free. After you get a taste of that sweet ass, you'll want more," Bill used to be a terrible negotiator. His new found power over me and his daughter had brought the shrewd side out of him the same way it had his son. "I don't think so. It is just not good business to mix pleasure with my work. I mean, I appreciate the offer and all, I really do." He drank in another look at me naked up and down. I knew though he was afraid he would lose his job if anyone found out and he could probably get anonymous sex if he just drove down the road a tiny piece. His resistance to my charms was hurting my feelings on some level. I have to admit –with all the humility my husband had been heaping on me – this guy not wanting to fuck me still hurt my pride in a new way. "We don't have to do it in here. We can do it anywhere you want. If there is someone hiding with a hidden camera, they would not be able to take pictures of you Sir," I pleaded. Bill smiled at my persistence in sweetening the deal. "What if you had the camera on you?" Dragovich's question was more of a joke than an actual point. "I will take off everything but my collar, and you can inspect that and you can inspect my entire body Sir, no cameras in my passport either." I smiled. "Passport?" he had no idea what I was talking about. I was already turning around before Chris could order me to show him. I bent over so he could see my butt plug and pulled my ass cheeks apart. "My husband and son gave me this to remind me of my place, Sir." "Okay, that is pretty cool," He sounded impressed. "Why is it called a passport? Because it gets you any place you want to go?" he joked. "Mr D. is an ass-man!" Chris laughed and ordered me to tell the real reason for its name. "Unclench that asshole," Bill ordered and I offered no resistance as he twisted the metal egg out of my ass to show Mr. Dragovich. "My husband bought me a passport and my daughter a matching one called her license, Sir." I didn't remember them telling me the true purpose of the matching plugs. I just assumed they were to cause us constant sensation in our ass and stretch us out. I said what Mrs. Waxerman had said was the reason. "My husband knew we would adorn ourselves with body jewelry to get attention from the opposite sex. He decided to get us one that exposed our tenderest region to his rod, and help not make our bare assholes seem so obscene seen from behind." "I see?" Mr. Dragovich seemed a bit confused by my response. "That was just what we told Mrs. Waxerman to freak her out," Chris laughed. "You guys know Mrs. Waxerman?" Mr. Dragovich lowered his guard quite a bit at that revelation. "You have no idea what a crazy old biddy she is. She has no official power in the PTA and she has been asked not to attend the meetings since she has no students attending the school, but she is constantly chiming in about decency and morality. I bet that was quite a conversation if she saw Mrs. Taylor's passport!" he chuckled. Chris reached under my chest while I remained bent over and pinched my nipple hard to get my attention. "Please call me Cow-tits Sir." I reminded him while staying in place. "Or bitch, slut, whore, anything really," Chris reminded him. "Just not ass face?" Mr. Dragovich seemed somewhat amused. "Nah, that's my sister name. We try not to confuse them too much," Chris laughed. "Tell him the real reason for the passport before I gag you with it, dear," Bill reminded me in a mockingly sweet tone. "The passport was a gift to remind me of my place in the family, and is a constant reminder that my asshole is theirs to command. It keeps my asshole spread and ready in case someone wants to use it, Sir." I was guessing on what might have been the underlying reason and Bill seemed very satisfied with my explanation. "You don't mind that your son sees you like this?" Mr. Dragovich remained aloof and skeptical. "At first yes, but it is a bit too late to be bashful now, sir." I was being completely honest about that one. "What of the example you set for your daughter?" Mr. Dragovich may have sounded like he was asking all the right clinical questions but he also couldn't stop staring at my naked body. "You got me there, Sir." I accepted his question. "I've set a terrible example for her," he was nodding his head in agreement. "Yes, she behaves just like you." he nodded his head in understanding but he didn't see my point. "I think you misunderstand Sir. I set a poor example when I put my career above my family, and bought these boobs for myself with no college fund for the kids." I pointed to the two heaving melons on my chest. "I think a lot of families have different priorities, that isn't really that bad, Mrs. Taylor" Mr. Dragovich folded his arms as if unconvinced. Bill jabbed a finger into the fleshy part of my ass to remind me to be a bit more convincing. There was no way Mr. Dragovich didn't see that – my husband is not known for his subtlety. "That is but one of my many shortcomings that managed to bring the family to where you see us now. I also cuckolded my husband and son. I usurped the leadership of the household and tried to change the natural order of things." It was clear that Mr. Dragovich wasn't seeing where I was going with this. "In an attempt to scare the men of the house I laid out an ultimatum – they had to shape up or ship out, Sir" I said bluntly. "I take it they shipped out?" Mr. Dragovich said, hiding a smile that he didn't think they had shaped up at all. "At first yes they did Sir, they came to stay here actually," I held my arms out to indicate the shithole of a tiny cabana with its mildew and quaint 1974 decorations. "While Mom and Jamie got to stay in our nice cozy house in Cherry Lawn Estates," Chris folded his arms like Mr. Dragovich was doing – probably to mock him on some level. "When they came back we delivered them an ultimatum, sir. They had to be obedient, work out, do chores, look for a job," I could see that Mr. Dragovich didn't see anything wrong with any of my intended goals. "They say the road to hell is paved with the best of intentions Mr.Dragovich," I sighed as I considered what to say next. My husband poked me in the butt again and told me to just spit it out. "I went a little power mad and insisted they stop looking at porn," I could see Mr. Dragovich didn't think that was unreasonable either. "One thing led to another and in order to get them to stop looking at porn, I had them start masturbating every day at set times so they would not have any interest in it, and be more compliant around the house. They seemed easier to control and motivate when they weren't walking around so tightly wound," I explained. "I can see from your expression that you don't quite see how we got to where we are now, but suffice to say it was a gradual change that snowballed and the example I set for my daughter was to teach her to boss the guys around for their own good." "And how did that work out?" Mr. Dragovich scratched his chin with a wry grin on his face. "As you can see from my dog collar, this is where it led Sir" I smiled back. "Actually, I am not quite sure how it led to all of this? You lost me somewhere along the way." "He doesn't speak slut, Mom. You'll have to slow it down for him and speak English." My son said the last part as if talking to a deaf and slow person. "I've seen enough Maury Povich and Jerry Springer to get the general idea, I guess what I am really wondering is if you regret that your daughter has matching tattoos and butt plugs? She wants to behave just like you?" He prodded me to explain that. I thought about it for a moment before answering –despite my husband's finger jabs to my ass to get me to speak. "Actually, I am not supposed to behave prideful anymore, but I am very proud of her," I said trying not let my voice crack. "Proud? Mrs. Taylor she got in my car and tried to suck my dick for twenty dollars, and your husband and son are your pimps." He said with a look of total disbelief. "How we got to this point where we are losing the house, I flushed my career down the toilet, and all is a really long and probably depressing story," I explained. "Actually, no offense but I find some of it rather amusing, but please continue," there was a snarky contempt hidden in his tone. He may have been elevated to Principal but he was still a football coach and Gym teacher at heart. "My daughter and I agreed to let the guys have payback. She agreed because she was participating in her father's and brother's humiliation and control just like I was. She felt that it only seemed fair that she join in the payback and she has stuck with it no matter how hard or how humiliating it became for her at school and around the house, Sir." I said. "That explains the sudden change at school - and you are proud of that why?" while his questions were straight out of the parent teacher handbook on how to establish a link between the parent's behavior – his eyes and the bulge in his pants betrayed him. I knew he was conflicted and turned on despite his concerns about our family's arrangement. "I know it is hard to believe that I could be proud of my daughter being a good little whore. She agreed to the discipline and stuck with it – even when it became very hard," I could hear Chris giggling at the word hard. "That's what SHE said," he joked before his father elbowed him to be quiet. "The lessons we have learned about patience, modesty, being giving with our time, affection and attention have been invaluable but I believe the biggest reason I am proud of her is that she could have stopped today – but she didn't, Sir." "Why is that?" Mr. Dragovich was well aware he could do little to hide the trouser snake rising in his pants – but to his credit -his expression remained serious. "We have lost our house, and gone into massive debt, all our credit cards are overdrawn. My car was trashed and my husband's truck is going to be repo'd very soon. I've lost my job and flushed my career down the toilet in the process. The only way we can put enough money into our pockets in the near future was to work out here at this motel. She knew that and could have taken the easy way out and stopped but she agreed to set her pride aside and continue until the family gets itself out of the crisis we are now in, Sir." "Don't you think once you get yourself out of this crisis, somehow you will find yourself in another crisis and this whole thing will continue?" I have to admit – he was a voice of reason and some of the things he said were ones that had occurred to me as well – and I still struggled with those concerns. "We have to solve the crisis we are in, before we can start solving the crisis we don't know about yet, Sir" I told him. I was reminded of a time at work when a higher level executive asked me a similar question about future outages at our server farm and I told him we needed to first get the servers that were down up and working again. "I can understand hard times making you choose hard choices, but why do you need to do it with the dog collar and the Yes Sirs?" he asked. I knew instantly he was talking about the discipline. My husband stopped me and said he would answer on my behalf. "Do you remember those trifling bitches who pinched your ass and were arguing out in front of the motel?" Bill said. "Oh yeah, one tried to steal me away from your daughter before I could even get here," Dragovich mused. "They probably started out here with the best of intentions – just to get back on their feet and make it through nursing school or whatever dream they had. They have no personal responsibility, no consequences, and no reason to behave – they have fallen into a trap that they can't get out of. The girls of this house have asked we continue the discipline we started because it has kept them on their toes, and reminds them of their obligation but doesn't allow them to get lazy and sloppy with how they approach this." "You don't have a problem with your wife and daughter doing this at all?" Mr. Dragovich asked my husband. "If you are asking me if I get jealous? I do a little," this was the first time I heard my husband admit what I had suspected all along. "I know that if I share her with you, it's because I told her to suck your dick and she belongs to me. She shows me by how she behaves and wears my collar, and that reflects on me. In the end, I know who she is really with, even if she shares her time, attention or body with someone else." "Hey, my parents were swingers in the 1970s, I totally get the arrangement with your wife. The question is why does your son get to boss her around too?" Mr. Dragovich became a little more casual when dealing with Bill – I guess it's a 'guy thing'. "You just jealous you didn't get to boss around your mom then, Drago?" Chris offered a wise crack before adding "At first it was weird bossing around my mom – she had been an authority figure all of my life and one I looked up too. We were given payback for the girls running us through the ringer, and so it was like a way to get even with her and my sister. I couldn't resist the offer and I wanted to see where it would go," This was the first time I heard Chris explain his thoughts about the discipline. He had talked to his dad quite a bit but with me –he had kept things aloof and acted like a trainer. "At first, naturally I took advantage of the situation and ordered them to clean, bow and scrape – just because I could. I made them do every disgusting thing I could think of –just because I could. Then I started to respect their ability to roll with the punches –and deal with everything dad and I could dish out at them. I looked up to my mom and my sister that they could accept the discipline with more grace than Dad and I could. I got to know them on a whole new level – my preconceptions about them being stuck up and not having any time for me, and their judging me as stupid were gone because they weren't allowed to express them anymore." I stood there listening to my son with my jaw half-way open in stunned surprise as he delivered an eloquent compliment towards his sister and I. "When we found out we were losing the house, they instantly volunteered to do whatever it took to keep the family together. If they were willing to give up their asses and dignity to keep a roof over our head and food in our bellies, then we needed to do our part," Chris seemed to stand an inch taller than he normally did when he finished his speech. "And your part is to slap your mother's ass anytime she doesn't do as she is told?" Mr. Dragovich's question to my son was drenched in disbelief. "Someone has to do it," Chris stretched and yawned to play along with the joke. "Look, between consenting adults, I think it's hot what you and your husband are doing. I am really impressed. I just have to tell you though there are some things I have my doubts about. "Chris, you are probably going to be the oldest living Sophomore at Cherry Lawn, you are on the sixth year plan are you not?" Mr. Dragovich asked. "Hey, I am a senior!" Chris laughed. "Okay, but for how many more years? You are almost eighteen so really I can't see the point in bringing this to child services. They are so backlogged you'll be 42 and still living in your parents basement by the time they get the case," he laughed. "However, and this is no joking matter, I think it's potentially abuse as it relates to Jamie Taylor, and I have an obligation if I see something like this to report it." "It is not abuse," My son was the first one to give a response... "I thought it might be at first too. I looked it up, the definition of abuse is to use wrongly or improperly; misuse or abuse a privilege. It could also mean to hurt or injure by maltreatment. Mom, do we hurt or injure you or ass face by maltreatment?" "No sir," I smiled at my son's logic. It blew my mind that he had taken the time to look it up in the dictionary and think about it. "With my great authority, comes great responsibility – we took the time to be clear about the rules and expectations and they agreed to them," Chris said – I think he was partly quoting Spiderman though. His facial expression was half serious and half smart ass or to put it another way 'he wore his usual facial expression' "Jamie is almost seventeen, she can't give consent though," Mr. Dragovich shook his head in disgust. "Oh bullshit, you mean to say there is a cheerleader on the Cherry Lawn team that hasn't consented to sex yet?" Chris shot back. "That is with another teenager, and outside of my hands," Mr. Dragovich's argument sounded like he had already heard that line of reasoning before. "Most of them are dating college guys," Chris could see that his words were having no effect on Mr. Dragovich. Bill already had seen the futility in arguing and had stood there just observing. "What about probation, Sir?" I offered meekly. The three men looked at me and I suddenly realized I had no idea what exactly I meant by probation. Mr. Dragovich nodded at me to explain – possibly give him an out not to proceed with his report. "You said yourself that it would take a long time for Child Protection Services to even investigate something, right?" I was still thinking about what I meant by probation when I got his nod that it would. "My daughter and I will only be serving for a week or so, so what if you gave us sort of a performance plan, Sir?" I said fumbling over my words. He asked me to clarify what I meant and I was still struggling with what I was willing to offer. I had been submissive for so many weeks that I think I lost the confidence to effectively negotiate my way out of this one. Bill stepped in and took over because I seemed to be losing the plot. "You are concerned the girls are being abused. You can come here every day for the next week any time you like – surprise inspections. You can talk to the girls, inspect their bodies, make sure there is no abuse. Once my daughter and wife hang up their dog collars you can come back and make sure for yourself." "Why would I do that and not just turn you all over to the authorities and just step away from this?" Dragovich said. "I can tell you want to help and you have the best interests of everyone at heart – man to man, I totally get that. It is what I want too. Let us think logically here about the outcome of what you are going to do. In the best case scenario, you go to the authorities and they do their paper work and find us - we just move to another town out of their jurisdiction and continue on with what we are doing. We have lost our house already. If you put us on probation however – you can ensure the girls are being treated as fairly as they deserve and are kept in line – everybody wins." Bill smiled like he just solved world hunger. "Yep, still not selling me on this guys. I really should be going," Mr. Dragovich started to leave. I felt a strange sense of relief. Obviously he was going to go fill out some paperwork to say that we were bad parents and all that but I am sure by now everyone thought that anyway. I felt a sense of relief that Mr. Dragovich was one of the rare breed of 'good guys' out there. He didn't press his advantage, he didn't try to use us, he didn't try to get his jollies at my expense. Yes, he looked at me naked, but then wouldn't any red-blooded heterosexual guy stare at a naked woman? He had done the right thing in a world of people doing the wrong things. He held the screen door and looked at me one more time before walking out into the darkness. "Well, that was awkward," Chris laughed. Then we heard him open the screen door and walk back in again. "Okay, if we do probation – when Jamie returns to school she will go back to how she used to be? No collars and short skirts without panties?" "I can't promise what my daughter is going to do after her suspension is up. However, I can say that once her obedience training is over that I won't REQUIRE her to go to school that way," Bill sounded very wise in how he chose his words. "If you guys don't go back on the straight and narrow after two weeks then I file the reports. If I hold off and Jamie goes back to being a good student then I will forget them, that is the deal?" Mr. Dragovich asked for confirmation. "Yes, that is basically it," Bill answered him. "I hope this doesn't sound crass, but I also get to fuck your wife?" He looked at me almost apologetically but I just smiled – it was flattering on some level. I noticed he couldn't look directly at Bill or Chris after he asked. "You can fuck her, make her suck your dick, squeeze her tits, slap her ass," Bill demonstrated a little on me as he listed them off. "Anytime you want, just not more than an hour a day or so. We have to keep her working." My husband smiled generously. "You are serious?" Mr. Dragovich reached out to shake his hand "What about after the probation?" Bill looked over at me – to see what my answer would be. I had no idea – I was completely put on the spot here. I was still thinking about how to get through THIS week and now I was being asked if I would debase and degrade myself like a sexdoll after my humiliating service had ended? Once again I was being asked to think about where this is all leading and what happens down the road. Bill had really fooled me earlier when he had said that when this is over I'd still have to eat off the floor and let him pick my outfits and diet. I hadn't actually blanched at the idea – I had accepted it and started wondering how I was going to manage my life around those new conditions. Something has changed inside of me – because a few weeks ago I would never have given him the intrinsic authority to set the terms of our relationship that way at all. I rarely let him pick what Netflix DVD we would watch – it was a sappy romantic comedy or nothing. That may explain why I ended up watching those with a quart of Haagen-Dazs and not with Bill, lol. "Will the other key-holders be able to fuck me too, Sir?" I asked my husband submissively while mulling in my head the outrageous decision before me. "You sound kind of eager. I guess the neighbor's dick is as big as everyone says," There was a subtle tone of jealousy to Bill's put down. In truth, I wasn't 'eager' to leave this arrangement open-ended and I wasn't a size queen – my pussy was sore from getting bore out by a bunch of Mexican guys – but I played along. "I am sorry Master, you know I am a slut and a cock hound, it is one of my shortcomings," I admitted openly what my son and husband had called me for weeks – something that amused all three men staring at my naked body. Chris started to joke about something I had said – but I didn't wait to hear it all. I gave my answer by taking one of Dragovich's meaty fingers in my mouth and licking it like a cock. I slowly sunk to my knees while keeping his finger in my lips and rolling it between my teeth gently. I started to unbuckle the Principal's jeans- he was completely hypnotized by the way I teased his finger in my mouth. I didn't care if Bill or Chris had stayed and watched – they had seen me fuck before – but they both quietly walked out of the room to leave me to my work. I had technically given no verbal answer at all to the question I had been asked. I had been prepared to be punished for that. My husband and son had made a big deal about answering questions when asked – and the punishments had been quick and severe for my daughter and I when we forgot that lesson. Our minds are always jumping to the reason we are being asked a question and what is really being asked – but I had learned a lot sooner than Jamie how to focus only on the question at hand. This time I had been prepared to let them punish me – because I really had no answer to whether I would continue to allow anyone to dominate me – even my husband after this ordeal was over. There was a part of me that would have said yes and that scared the shit out of me. It could have been that my heart was beating fast and I was caught up in the moment – after all, being the only one naked in a room makes one feel vulnerable. I focused instead on Mr. Dragovich's massive cock and worshipped it with my mouth while on my knees in front of him. He grabbed my hair and moaned softly about how amazing that was. I hadn't bothered to roll a condom on him yet but I knew he didn't seem like a minute-man who would shoot right away and I had time. I didn't want to spoil the spontaneous feeling that he must have been feeling from how I loved his dick with my mouth. He let me suck his dick at my own pace – I stopped and licked the thick vein under his dick playfully. "What does it say on your boobs?" His eyes were narrowed as he looked down at me in pleasure. I held my chest apart for him to see the words in magic marker that my son and husband had written. "It's been a while since I taught Spanish, but is that word in the center urinal?" he asked in disbelief. I nodded it was "Yes Sir it does," as I went back to wrapping my mouth around his dick. "So what does that mean?" He sounded like he knew but he was afraid to make the assumption. It was almost more humiliating for me to answer than it had been to be one – but I did. "It means what you think it does Sir. I am a urinal, you can piss in my mouth when you are done," my voice almost cracked but if he noticed his only response was a broad grin. "Where is your urinal cake then?" He asked jokingly while enjoying his dick being sucked – masterfully if I do say so myself. I know some times I do gallows humor with Jamie as a defensive mechanism to make sense of some of the crazy situations we have found ourselves in – his jokes seemed to be along those same lines. It may have been that he felt awkward knowing I was the mother of two of his students and that my husband and son were standing just outside while I gave his cock some much needed attention and affection. I opened my mouth wide to show him the silver cock shaped tongue ring that I had and he laughed. "Is it minty fresh?" "Kiss me and see, Sir?" I replied to his joke in the most provocative and sexy manner I could. I didn't think he would – after all I just told him I was a human urinal but the big giant of a man bent down and met my gaze. I parted my lips slightly and shut my eyes. I have not been kissed by very many people since we began the training. I've sucked a lot of dicks – and somehow I've managed to deal with that a lot better than kissing. It is so personal and I felt sickened to my soul that I was passionately kissing a stranger. Not enough to stop playing my pussy – I found my fingers were straying to my wet pussy while he and I shared a delicate kiss and he wrapped his arms around me. I couldn't help but feel strangely like I was betraying my husband. Even though I had been trained to use my mouth, ass and pussy to amuse my 'betters' and be giving sexually – this felt wrong and personal. "You are closing your mouth when I kiss you," He observed with the impassioned voice of a lover. It made me feel even worse that he had no way of knowing I was beating myself up for being the one to have asked for the kiss in the first place. I opened my mouth and let him lick my teeth and intrude into my mouth with his tongue. He explored it and kissed me passionately – I can't remember even kissing my husband this passionately before. I heard the porch door to the cabana spring open and my husband's voice "If you want to fuck her ass, you have to take out the passport yourself, she isn't allowed to touch it." I heard him say casually as if giving instructions on how to handle a borrowed lawn mower to a neighbor. Then he abruptly stopped talking and there was deafening quiet. I had my eyes closed – I had always been told you were supposed to close your eyes when you are kissing. I opened them to see if he was outraged or fuming but instead he was just standing there staring quietly watching us kiss. Dragovich noticed him and began to turn around but Bill was already walking back out without a word. I wanted to stand up and explain – get some assurance he was okay with me kissing. I know it should not have made me feel guilty – he expected me to be a whore – but it did and maybe I was reading something into it that didn't exist with my own guilt but I thought it bothered him too. I guided Mr. Dragovich's stone like jaw to face me and led him up onto the dirty mattress so that we could continue our fuck. I had money to make if I was going to catch up with Jamie – and I needed to keep in mind this was a freebie. The thing is – Dragovich was a skilled lover. I am not sure why he turned to prostitutes. He was a skilled lover, handsome and had a big dick. He had a good job at a school – and I saw no ring on his finger. Why was he still single and why did he like strange sex like this? I didn't have time to ponder that for long because skipping all other foreplay he put the tip of his dick into my pussy and drove it in deep. In moments, he was pushing all of himself all the way into me as far as he could deliver himself. I was drenched in my own wetness and I pleaded "Condom, sir" through gasps for air as he started fucking me hard. "Don't worry, I don't cum very quickly," he assured me as he spun me around so that I was facing away from him. "I love looking at your asshole," his voice was a husky growl of passion. I reached behind myself with one hand and began to finger fuck my asshole for him to watch. It felt strange not to feel the hard plastic of the crystal from my buttplug when I reached behind myself. There was a split second where I forgot it was laying on the floor and wondered where it was so I wouldn't get punished. He pulled his shirt off so that he was now as bare-chested as me. He was in great shape but I could feel the sweat off his stomach dripping on me as he exerted himself to fuck me roughly. He groaned and fucked me by rowing my hips back and forth on his crotch with his powerful arms. I could feel a tiny drip of warm sweat from his forehead splash on my back as he grunted and pounded me from behind. He moved my finger and pushed his thumb into my ass as he fucked me. When he moved his arm to play with my butthole he stopped row-fucking me because he no longer had the support of both arms so I pushed back on his dick to keep up the rhythm. "Can I really fuck your ass" he whispered into my ear as he bent his hairy chest over my back. "Yes sir, you really can, but please may I put a condom on you?" I replied playfully through heavy breaths. "You are worried about catching something? We've been fucking for a while now," He laughed. I could tell he didn't want to pull out and put one on – most men wouldn't after this much. "No sir, I trust you. I just get punished if I don't have a condom full of cum at the end," I smiled gently over my shoulder at him while he continued to thrust into me from behind. "You seem to enjoy getting punished," he grunted playfully while thumbing my asshole and fucking me hard. "Hardly, sir!" I answered playfully back while holding myself up on all fours so that he could fuck me from behind. "You agreed to be punished if you break the rules," what he said hardly proved I enjoyed it but he added "And your pussy gets tight around my dick when I say punishment." He was right – I was gripping his dick hard. "That is just because some of the ones my son comes up with are pretty extreme Sir," I flashbacked to some of the painful but usually humorous punishment's my son had come up with especially to torment me with over the last few weeks. "That doesn't surprise me about Chris. What kind of punishment?" I instantly wondered why it did not surprise the principal that my son was a creative little sadistic and what made him say that about him. My mind flashed back on the time I had to draw a punishment card for a correction. "The Ice, Heat, Wind, Rain challenge," I explained how they had written up these themed cards to address our shortcomings and terrify us when we received a correction. "That is sort of one step up from a smaller infraction," It was not easy to explain while he thumb-fucked my asshole and took me from behind but I chose my words wisely and he seemed to get excited hearing about it. I explained how they made me stand on the patio and gave me twelve ice cubes. I could pick any hole but I had to insert all twelve of them and then wait until it melted into a glass before presenting it to them and begging forgiveness for my transgression. "What had you done wrong?" his dick was getting more engorged as he drove himself into my pussy and played with my ass and I talked to him. I had honestly forgotten what I had done wrong – I had only remembered in vivid detail having to stand out there until I filled a glass half way with melted ice. Mr. Dragovich unexpectedly reached out and spanked my ass hard while he fucked me. It was a playful slap but a reminder he was driving and I grinned – it had come back to me what I had done wrong. "I lost my cell phone. I was also supposed to email pictures of myself of me playing with my cunt before the end of the day. I had also failed to follow all of my protocols and was slow at the place I used to work before I got fired." "You are such a dirty slut to say that you were playing with your cunt, that's so hot!" He was slowing down the pace he was fucking but he remained steady. He had shifted his focus to burying his thumb deep in my ass. "I am not allowed to use euphemisms, I have to call it a cunt sir, because that is what it is to them," I admitted –still playfully. "Is that what this is to you?" He bumped me from behind hard with his dick to indicate he was talking about my cunt. "I admit, that is what it is Sir. I agreed to play by the rules, and I accept them. I am a cunt with a cunt, Sir" I admitted. "A juicy, delicious cunt," He agreed and was quiet for a while. Then he asked "So what did you do with the melted ice once you begged forgiveness?" I had forgotten we were talking about the punishments – I was too lost in the rhythm of the way he was fucking me to have remembered. "I drank it, Sir" I recalled. "That was the punishment?" he laughed. "Actually, the drinking it was for bonus points. They call it slut squeezins" I quipped back with a smile. "The way you talk about how clever your son is for coming up with that punishment and the reverence you have for how it affected you – it really turns me on that it turns you on." He was nearing his limit, I could tell he was about to cum and I knew he wanted me punished so it would do no good to beg him to wear a condom. "It doesn't turn me on Sir, and not all of my son's punishments were that clever." I thought back on the more pragmatic style that Bill used – it was effective but it often lacked that strange sense of humor that my son added to the equation. I remembered when Bill made me stand on two chairs in the living room and just ignored me – that had blown mine mind. They just walked around as if I didn't even exist in the living room – and in front of that boy who likes Jamie! "You ... are ... going ... to ... get ... a ... chance ... to fucking prove it," his final thrusts were driving his dick as far inside me as he could – and at the last minute he rammed his dick into my ass about four inches before finally an explosion of cum filled me up. He dug his fingers into me and bit my neck hard before collapsing on my back in exhaustion. "Thank you Sir" I mumbled into the pillow as he rose off of me and struggled to put on his jeans. "You know I was like Chris in high school. I was too awkward and heavy set and I had a face full of acne. I only talked when I had something to say and that wasn't very often. I was smart but no one knew it because I was shy until I got to know someone and was sure they wouldn't try to knock me down." I listened to him explain as he buckled his belt while I lay flat on the bed. "Your son has come out of his shell the last few weeks and gained popularity. I didn't do that until college when I started weight lifting and even then I still feel like that goofy fat kid some times. I would never say it to his face, but I am actually envious that he has more confidence than I ever did at that age." It seemed a little awkward to be getting feedback from the Principal about my son after he just fucked me – but what was not awkward these days? "You wouldn't encourage me, Khal Drago?" My son had heard every word and was standing behind us. "Nah, it would just go straight to that fat head of yours Taylor," The Principal's joke was good natured but there was a kernel of truth to it. "Your mom has something to admit to you, I think." I could sense a muted sense of delight in the Principal as if he felt he was about to validate his opinions about me. "Yes Cow Tits?" I couldn't see my son's face but I could hear a smile in his voice. I knew I was expected to admit I had fucked the Principal without a condom. It was so easy some times to submit and play a long but then there were times like these when I had a sense of dread about my obligations. I think a big part of me just didn't want to know if Mr. Dragovich was right about me. "Mr. Dragovich did not fuck me with a condom, Master" I laid belly flat on the bed as I admitted my wrong doing. "Did you offer to put one on him?" My son asked – his voice like a young prince trying to get to the bottom of the story. "Yes Master, I did," I admitted – while remaining face down. "I certainly can't fault you for that then," My son sounded merciful and a part of me was relieved that he was being understanding and that I had proven Mr. Dragovich wrong – I didn't love punishment. "What hole did he cum in?" he asked. "My asshole, Sir" I admitted and touched my bare cheeks with the palms of my hands. "Oh good, you may squat on the floor and we can watch you drip it back out of that fat ass of yours," My son's voice became more sadistic and cruel. "Do you want me to drip it into a condom, Sir?" I pleaded. I was already in motion to sit like a frog on the floor and hold my ass cheeks apart for him. "Did I tell you to drip it into a condom?" My son asked with an edge of menace to his voice. "No master, you did not," I admitted. I was already squatting and holding my cheeks apart so that I could squeeze back out the cum from my ass. "If I wanted you to do something, I would tell you to do it. You really are a stupid slut, you know that Mom?" I was a little shocked that Chris called me Mom. He rarely did. "Yes sir, I know," I felt a stab of fresh humiliation wash over me as I heard my son, husband and the Principal snicker at my answer. I think I prefer being called Cow-tits than I do Mom by my son – it makes this life easier – less personal. "I have to admit Mr. Taylor, you have a real trophy wife," Mr. Dragovich said with a hint of mock admiration in his voice as he watched a tiny bubble of cum emerge from my asshole and ooze down my crack onto the floor beneath my feet. "Trophy wife? Maybe certificate of appreciation wife," My husband joked. He had been standing in the background watching me purge the cum from my ass with the others. I do my journal in my inner voice. You know the one I am talking about. It's the little voice that offers a running commentary when you are listening to someone. It's the voice that brings up your own opinion about the information being provided. It is too easy to pay more attention to the inner voice than the actual speaker. That voice often keeps you from listening openly for good information and can often make you shut down before you have heard the entire premise. Focus less on what your brain has to say and more on the speaker. You may be surprised at what you hear. If you can't quiet the inner voice, then at least use it to your advantage. Every time you hear yourself contradicting the speaker, stop and take the other point of view. Suggest to your brain all the reasons why the speaker may be correct and you may be wrong. In the best case you may open yourself to the information being provided. Failing that, you will at least strengthen your own argument. I don't always take my own advice – and sometimes I let my inner voice be my outer voice. "Am I to be punished Master?" I had been waiting for them to tell me and it was killing me to know whether or not that was coming. "Naturally," is all my son said in response. ------- Chapter 37: Chris's Journal: When an Angel Poops Note to reader: This is an excerpt of Chris's journal from Wednesday approximately 10:30 pm from his perspective. The events take place after he has just finished punishing his mother - (suspense!). In order to increase readability, some of the dialogue exchanged was altered to appear in a 'narrative' story format. CASH EARNINGS WEDNESDAY WENDY: $385 JAMIE: $535 I had just finished punishing my mother in the most humiliating and painful way I could think of and was looking forward to a little break. I could definitely have gone for a Starbucks but out here on the poor side of town – 6 hour old gas station coffee is about the only thing you can get at this time of night. I was smiling about the satisfying way I had just punished my mother and thinking I should probably journal all the details down because I would probably want to jack off to the mental image of what I put her through later. I would capture how she begged in front of the principal she had just fucked for forgiveness and then lapped up the cum that oozed out of her asshole in front of us all and then go into detail on the punishment itself. It was really a three-alarm boner starter – and then I patted her on the butt and sent her sniffling into the night to suck cocks for money and she actually THANKED me for doing it to her. It sucks that I am such a procrastinator though. I bet it would have made a great read. Lol, well I probably will never forget the look of embarrassment on Cow tit's face and the fact that all three of us – Dad included really seemed to enjoy watching her struggle and apologize for her shortcomings. I love to pile on in punishments and make her run down all the many ways she fails – damn, that is hot. I think it will fuel my fantasies for a while just thinking about her ass jiggling and tits bouncing and all the fun I had with her - I might make her repeat the punishment later tonight - I'll have to see how I feel. Anyway, I was just thinking about how I could really go for a decent Carmel Macchiatto Grande when I saw my sister walking into the parking lot. I could tell from her long lanky legs without even looking at that gorgeous face. I savored the moment of watching her long blonde hair in the darkness as she shuffled somewhat bow-legged from the fucking she had been getting towards me. I could just see the words "I love black cock" on her shirt when I noticed her blue eyes were crying and her normally cheerful face was twisted in sadness. "Aww Sis, your tears fuel my boner" I laughed. In the time I've been in charge she has been so rah-rah and optimistic that any time we've teased her to the point she cried it was kind of a victory for me. She always has a way of looking on the bright side and has stoically taken everything we could dish out her way – it makes it hard to enjoy humiliating her if she takes it so well. At first Dad thought she was doing it as a tactic to make us get bored of heaping humiliations and degradations on her and mom- I knew better. My sister is just one of those infernal optimists who sees the glass as totally full – even if it is full of cum. This crying was not as satisfying because it wasn't at my hands and my instinct was to actually hug her when she got close and I could see the tears run down her angelic face and perfectly upturned nose before dripping onto her cherry sweet lips. "So what has you all hot and bothered, ass face?" I demanded in the parking lot of the motel. She sobbed some more and I told her "I will GIVE you something to cry about if you don't suck it up and tell me the ENTIRE story right the fuck now!" I've always wanted to say "I will GIVE you something to cry about" like an angry stepdad. I didn't really mean it – or maybe I did. I sometimes can't even tell when I am seriously being a dick and when I am just being a good disciplinarian – so far mom and sis seem to take most of everything I say as discipline instead of a joke. My sister had managed to pull it together but her cheeks and nose were still red and her eye shadow dripped the loveliest lines down her face. "Now what's a matter Honey Boo Boo? You got 99 problems and all of them are about to be dicks in your mouth." I tried to lighten the mood a little but she only shifted uncomfortably and continued to shake. "Fine, I can see you aren't going to loosen up until I put you in your natural state – which is?" I asked. My sister had never seemed so disturbed. It wasn't what I was saying that bothered her – she usually took every sarcastic comment I made in stride. She stuttered 'naked sir?" through chattering teeth. "That's right, dumb shit," I laughed. She started to undress right in the center of the parking lot with uncertainty before I stopped her. "Don't think I am feeling sorry for you by my letting you strip in the cabana. You'll tell me everything even if mom comes in with a trick." Jamie brightened that I had not made her strip in the parking lot – as if this was at least a silver lining. I guess once you sink so low even a tiny comfort is still a comfort. I walked her into the cabana and made her strip quickly and get on her knees in front of me. "Hold your tits a part and get on your knees. I want you to take a deep breath sis, and listen to me." I could tell she was still very shaken from whatever had upset her and that upset me. I guess it is the big-brother gene – I could smack her ass and laugh at her but I found myself feeling like I didn't want others to be able to do it. I wouldn't call it possessive - it was more protective. "A girl goes in for heart surgery and before she goes under she tells her boyfriend that she loves him," I told my sister. "Her boyfriend says I love you more, much, much more. After the surgery the girl wakes up and only her father is by the bed," I told her. "She asks where he was and the father asks if she knew who gave her the heart?" My sister recoiled with a gasp in shock as I knew she would. "Nah, I am just kidding, he just went to the toilet" I deliver the father's punch line and my sister's sad frown turns into a little bit of a grin. I would call it a grimace but I honestly don't know what one of those is – it does sound cool though. Now that she had calmed down and even chuckled a little she began to tell me the story of why she was crying. I made her start from the very first detail that led up to the exercise. "Time is money and your ass should be out hustling on the street – but I want to hear every little thing, sis" I insisted. She told me about her first trick after leaving the Principal. He was a dirty old bum with whiskey breath in a dirty corduroy jacket and a black sailor's hat. I made her describe how badly he stunk to me. "Like dog shit?" I asked with a smile on my lips. "Yes sir," she answered. "How do you know what dog shit smells like?" I laughed. She looked down at the dirty carpet and admitted that she had to smell Roscoe's poop outside in the yard all the time. "Yeah, but did the old man smell EXACTLY like that, or just kind of like that? I mean could he have smelled like your poop?" I was just fucking with her but instinctively I knew that I was also helping her to calm down. If this dirty old man had brought my sister to tears it probably hadn't been that bad of an ordeal and I was no longer worried about it. "He smelled basically like dog shit, Sir" she corrected "Although, I am no expert on all kinds of different shit smells" I pictured my sister pumping out a long brown turd on the lawn with the radiant sun on her back. In my mind, she had a nice long brown perfect sausage hanging from her ass – completely unbroken and smooth. There is something so amazingly hot about seeing a sweet and innocent looking blonde haired, blue eyed girl take a shit – it's like watching an angel poop. I didn't pay attention to the rest of her story about the dirty old man – I was too busy with my own little dirty fantasy. It was something about him asking to sniff her panties for a dollar and her saying she didn't have on panties and his cracked tooth smile when he found that out. I had regretted asking her to start from that early in the story because I wanted her to get to the part that made her cry – but I stuck to making her go over every little detail about what he fondled and how he fondled it in the darkened alleyway behind a dumpster. It gave me a boner to imagine my sister down on her soft-white knees in a filthy alley sucking a dirty black cock – I can't deny that. "So this guy made you cry?" "Oh no sir, that came after," she had recovered from her tears – although I was inclined to consider spanking her to see if I could make her continue to cry I was really interested in hearing this story now. There might be something I could use to scare and humiliate her in new ways. My sister had been trusting and sucked his cock without getting the money first. He didn't have it and she found it hard to demand it of someone who lived in a cardboard box. "You are crying because you know you will be punished for that?" I began immediately imagining Jamie's tight little ass in the same torturous punishment I had devised for my mother – delicious. "No sir, I mean I know I would be punished for that but that is not what made me cry," She had calmed down and seemed accepting of the punishment that was in store for her. I would have preferred she be nervous and crying – but maybe had she seen her mother writhe in agony she would be a little more apprehensive. "You also didn't bring back a condom full of cum did you?" on one level I wanted to calm and reassure my sis, but I found myself unable to stop playing with her head and putting my sister back in her place. "No sir, he pissed on me and took off the condom, which is when he decided to inform me he had no money anyway and would I mind if he paid me next Tuesday," she answered innocently but didn't make any attempt to address whether she should be punished or not for not getting the condom. "What did you do when he didn't pay?" I was more curious than I was interested. "I couldn't do anything, I wasn't going to fight him, Sir" She seemed slightly defiant as if she was trying to infer that she wasn't going to do it if ordered. "That is okay, you will learn to get that money upfront. You will report to Rahjid after you are done telling me the story and apologize for not bringing his money and a full condom and then ask for punishment, understood?" my sister nodded to what I had said - prompting a swift kick to her flat-abdomen. "You were asked a question by your Master, I am positive you know how to speak slut?" I was being a stickler just to play with my sister. I enjoyed how her upper body snapped to attention and kept her shoulder's back when reminded of her protocol and delivered a crisp "Yes Master" out of those angels lips on her face. "Why do you think I didn't gag your mouth-hole? If it is not sucking dicks, you are flapping those gums to tell some boring story about bums who made you cry," I pretended to be disinterested in the story but I was really curious. I think on the outside of this journal – no one knows how long winded and detail oriented I truly am – and I like keeping their perceptions of me wrong. "It wasn't him that made me cry, but you said to start at the beginning Master, and that is what set this in motion?" My sister answered with a straight face and eyes staring straight ahead in deference to me as her Master- It was so hawt. "Take my pants down, ass face" I ordered my sister to unbuckle my belt and stepped out of my jeans with my half-hard cock in her face. I could tell she thought my next order would be for her to suck it. "You will keep your eyes painted on this cock that you worship," I told her. "You will tell your story truthfully and not leave out one embarrassing or graphic detail. If I find out you lied you'll be punished just like mom was and trust me when I say that you will regret it," I demanded – but I knew my sister was truthful to a fault and that wouldn't be a problem. "Yes sir, I won't leave anything out," My sister wouldn't just nod to my question again anytime soon. "You get it hard and I will give you a little treat, but if it gets soft you will get punished," I decided she needed a little motivation to keep my interest. "Yes sir," my sister acknowledged but me – but I could tell she was thinking about something she didn't say from her tone. "You have something to add, slut?" I chuckled –oblivious to what it might be. "Well, just that may I suck your dick some when I tell the story? Some of it is bad," she offered as if sucking my dick was to her advantage and not mine. "You are greedy for cock," I teased her and put my dick right up to her mouth – she obliged by opening wide for my cock and I plunged it in and she started to give it a tongue washing. "But, you don't get any" I popped it out before she could get started. I was surprised to see a frustrated look on her face – it turned me on. "None of your tricks to distract me and avoid punishments," I gave her a slap across the face with my dick before finishing. "It would be too easy to get me hard that way," I laughed and made her continue the story. "A man in a white Mercedes Benz saw me in the alley way. He told me the bum's name was sailor and to come over to his car because I wasn't going to get paid no matter what I did. I leaned into his car window and he told me that he would give me fifty dollars just to sit and listen to him." My sister continued the story. I asked her if she did and she said that she was forbidden to accept fifty for just sitting but she could fuck him for that much. I smiled at how determined my sister looked and noticed that my dick got just a little bit stiffer at the mental image. She told me how she got in his car and there was another girl in the back. "His name was Cash Money and she is called Goldie." The way she described him – it was clear he was a pimp or thought he was. He was a 30 year old black man with a short goatee and from how she described him he looked a lot like Andre 3000 of Outkast. Goldie was blonde with a lot of makeup and a smile that reminded my sister of an alligator – a lot of teeth and an evil grin. She had a tattoo that said "A Plus Life" on her shoulder and was dressed almost as slutty as Jamie. My sister told me a little about the questions he asked of her. He asked about the dog collar around her neck. "I remember when you asked me if you could have that collar," I remembered how awkward it had been at the dog store when Jamie and Mom had walked around with matching pink rhinestone studded collars at first – and how now I couldn't picture them NOT wearing them. "He REALLY liked my shirt, Sir" Jamie smiled broadly – her nose slightly pink as the only sign she had ever been crying. "I hope you said something cute?" I replied. "Yes sir, I love all kinds of dick," My sister admitted as if she had been kidding – but I had long since began to wonder how much of that was an act and how much my once goody-two shoes sister had embraced her role as house slut. "He asked me if 'anybody had got with me yet', Sir" My sister continued her story. "What does that mean?" I asked her. She explained how he wouldn't admit he was a pimp. He told her he was a manager and a producer but that he kept hinting that she should work for him –without coming right out and saying it. "I hope you told him that your fat pussy belongs to me and Dad?" I chuckled. "I also told him Rahjid and he mocked this motel and said it was for low-rent, dead end hookers who don't know how to earn, Sir," My sister told me that Goldie promised her "racks on racks". "What does racks on racks mean?" I laughed. "I didn't know at first either, but it means thousands on thousands," I was amused picturing my sister who is the poster child for girl-next-door white girl from the suburbs in a car with a pimp and his bottom bitch asking them to explain their terms for her. I think sometimes my imagination can do a better job of filling in the details than reality can. "When I refused to work for him he had Goldie show me her tattoo about an A plus life and said that I could have one too." Jamie seemed to grow a little more uncomfortable as she explained this part of the story. She never told me what an 'A plus life' was but I assumed it was part of the pimp's hustle to convince naïve young street girls to work for him. "They wouldn't let me out of the car and at first Goldie held me down and then they stripped me naked in the backseat. He saw the tattoo on my Ass and said I would be perfect for him and they tried to make me smoke out of a glass pipe." "You resisted?" I was shocked – my submissive little sister had volunteered for every kind of abuse I could heap on her with a stoic lack of fear – but when it came to drugs she was completely resistant. We grew up in the age of D.A.R.E and all the propaganda that told us 'Stranger Danger' and to avoid drugs. My sister told me she kicked and fought once they brought out the crack pipe and he burned her with it on her nipples. I hadn't even noticed. We spank, tease, twist and slap them so much that I had completely miss the purple welts under her perfect nipples. I made her show them to me and I inspected them. I wasn't sure how long it might take for them to heal but I didn't want my sister to freak out so I pretended it was no big deal. Inside, I began to wonder if it was simply too dangerous for them to be on the streets and I started to feel really bad about putting her through this. "So this is what made you cry?" I asked. "Oh no sir," My sister really surprised me. "You and Dad have been punishing my tits for so long that I just accepted the pain. I was worried they were going to keep doing it and I started to thrash around and scream until finally they let me out of the car. He called me a 'crazy bitch' when my heel accidentally scratched his face. "How did you get your clothes back?" I asked. "They threw me out with them, I laid on the sidewalk for a few minutes before I could get up and get dressed. I just pretended to be dead for a minute until they had gone on down the road." My sister admitted. "You are lazy, but I won't punish you for that one," My sister is actually very energetic but I like to tease her a little and she could tell I was kidding because she grinned. "Lift your tits so I can see the pipe marks," I insisted she show me the tits again. I can't say why I was fascinated by the little scorch marks. I kept picturing a real crack whore and something about how slutty her tits looked abused like that made my dick stiffen up more. I was going to have to think of a reward for my sister if she kept going like this. "I was getting dressed when I heard a car honk from the side of the road, sir" My sister continued the story while pulling her perfect peach mounds on her chest up and apart for me. "I hope you didn't waste time putting your clothes back on before seeing who it was?" I chuckled. She nodded that she didn't pull her skirt all the way up before turning around. "At first I thought it might be Cash Money and Goldie ready for round two, Sir" she seemed to be gathering her courage to finish the story. I wondered if the ordeal she described so far hadn't broken her spirit what might have. "It was Deacon Dan, Sir" it took me a minute to think of who that was. Deacon Dan was the youth pastor at a Church near our house. My mom used to take us back in grade school – back before her career took off. I can't say that I wanted to continue going. I used to be a thin kid before middle school. I was kind of popular in elementary school but like a lot of choices we make as a kid that define us later in life – I picked peanut butter and jelly sandwiches over athletics. I definitely wasn't much of a Christian and so when mom stopped taking me to that and scouting – I didn't complain a bit. I was happy to mope around and watch TV and play video games. I only vaguely remembered the deacon. What I did remember was that he seemed like a man in his early 40's who was always smiling and kind. He told me to 'rap about my problems' and when I recited the lyrics to '99 problems but a bitch aint one', he told me that he didn't mean that kind of 'rap'. I was only in 4th grade so I had no idea he meant to discuss my problems – I think that was one of the first times I ever made a joke out of something serious. "He recognized me right away and told me to get in the car, Sir" Jamie had been telling the story and I had not been listening. I thought she was upset that he remembered her from church. "You are still worried about your precious reputation, whore?" I laughed. This is the same girl who ran almost completely naked on the half-time field of a high school football game. "No it's not that, he began to get mad Sir" Jamie described how enraged and disappointed the Deacon had been. "Sounds a lot like Mrs. Waxerman," I shrugged and added "You never see churches with free wi-fi, because no church wants to compete with an invisible power that actually works, lol" I laughed out loud at my own joke. "I hope you did white alert and played a long?" "I did at first sir, but he quickly became angry and started driving wrecklessly as he shouted bible verses at me!" My sister's blue eyes kind of became misty. "Thou shalt not finger a titty, so said the lord unto the highest of the big titty bitches- Fallopians 4:20?" I laughed as I imitated a southern preacher delivering a bible verse. "He demanded I remove my clothes and act like a true whore, and talk dirty to him," Jamie told me as she described how he pulled off into a deserted construction site. "Did you tell him how much it cost to play with you or give it away for free?" I was teasing my sister and smiling but she wasn't smiling back this time. My dick had started to slip from almost hard to only semi-hard. "Yes sir, I told him I would gladly get naked and suck his dick for twenty dollars and give him a hand job for ten. I told him I would do my best to talk dirty, Sir" she sounded like she was trying to convince me that she really had tried to please him and the tip of my dick started to throb a little – that was sexy. "So did he pay?" "No sir," I was about to point out she would be punished by Rahjid for that transgression as well when she added "He pulled my skirt down and pulled my shirt up and started to play with my body. He kept asking if I liked it," I wanted to ask "Well did you?" but I could see that Jamie wasn't seeing the humor in the situation right now. She had been touched and played with by a lot of guys tonight. I figured just because he was a trusted member of the church it was probably bothering her – like a betrayal of trust by an authority figure. My sister gives a lot more shit than I do about authority figures. "I told him I didn't mind it, but that I was going to be punished if I didn't get paid," she swallowed and paused for a moment. "That is when he completely lost it Sir, he started saying that the punishment had already begun, and that I would need a taste of hell on earth so that I knew to return to the path of the righteous and avoid eternal hell." "Sounds a lot like Mrs. Waxerman" my dick got hard remembering how kinky and twisted some of that crazy old lady's punishments were. I was about to tell Jamie she had won the reward for getting me fully hard when she told me what happened next. "Then he started slapping me hard in the face and across the chest," My sister's angelic voice admitting she was slapped around sustained my boner. "Then he revved up the car engine and gunned the car," she stopped touching her tits and began to cry into her hands. I stood there quietly while my sister sobbed – my perfect full boner had started to weaken. This kind of crying wasn't as sexy as the other kind. "And?" I don't like to be kept in suspense. She can't leave me hanging like that! I needed the details! What kind of bastard does a set up for something intense and then doesn't give details? "I know I will be punished for not holding my tits apart Master," My sister was past caring if she was punished or not – she openly wept. What did this guy do to her next? Had he raped her with a wiffle ball bat? Poured hot chili pepper on her asshole? What? "What happened next?" I demanded. I had visions of a late night car wreck into a pile of gravel in a dark construction lot. The cops would find out Jamie had been in the car and we would be in a world of shit! I demanded she tell me what happened next – I can't stand to be kept in suspense. "He took me to what he called his church, but it was just a warehouse near the construction site," She cried. "And?" Damn, a part of me was hoping the Deacon had crashed and burned and my sister had crawled out of the wreckage to tell me that is why she had been crying. I was looking at her face – it was so bright and yet so sad right now. She was like a blonde shampoo bottle filled with sunshine but right now she was so serious and it was eating me up inside. "He pulled me out of the car naked and showed me to the drunks and bums at his church. He said it was a shelter but they were drinking and it was dark and disgusting in there. He stood me in front of them and told them my name is Jamie Taylor and I used to go to his Sunday school and look how the mighty have fallen – so innocent and yet I've allowed myself to become a disgusting tool of Satan, sir." "So basically he talks like Mrs. Waxerman?" I couldn't see how after all of the things that Jamie had been through tonight these words would have been the ones to make her cry. "He said that he had been kicked out of the church due to girls like me. The ones who pretend to be so sweet and innocent and then lie and accuse a priest of molesting them. He seemed so crazy Sir! He started to beat me in front of them, pulling on my piercings to show how under the clothes the teenage girl is a ravenous beast of satan who will tempt and tease and then if you show mortal failings- even once, you will fall from grace and lose everything." I could see that my sister's eyes were starting to tear up just a little but I didn't understand why the priest's words affected her so much. She had heard all these things from Waxerman and I thought they just rolled off her back. It was her and mom who seemed to be playing a wicked form of Jenga where they each take turns laying on another plank of bullshit to see how far they could send the woman into a tizzy before it all toppled over. Then again – maybe that was at my insistence. I totally get off on that sort of thing. "They made me suck them all off, Sir" My sister cried. "That is what has you all upset?" I was confused. "No sir, I know you will have me punished for sucking six men and not getting paid or bringing back the cum," she dried her eye slightly before returning her hands to pull her tits apart. She seemed so upset I almost wanted to allow her to sit on the bed – almost. I am not going to let up on the discipline the first time she cries! She would never respect me again. Still – a part of me just wanted to give her a big reassuring hug (and the tip of my dick). "He told me he lost his wife and daughter because of a girl like me and my lies about him, Sir" my sister's voice cracked with emotion – she felt sorry for the perverted Deacon. I didn't - he sounded like a dirty drunk. "He had me kneel and suck each one of them off to show that girls me like are not to be respected. We deserve whatever hardship God sends our way, Master". She sounded like she believed that she did deserve it. "Deep down, do you feel that is true?" I felt like Doctor Phil offering some sage advice. I almost wanted to add "Because if so, you are on a slow train to stupidville and that dog won't hunt," in a backwoods accent like the TV psychologist. "I don't know, I am so confused Master?" she was balling now like a crybaby. I helped her off her knees and gave her a big bear hug. It felt good to have those perfectly ripe melons of hers pressed against my chest – but I knew she was getting something out of the hug too – and it was not perverted. "So that is what this crying is about?" I wiped away her tears with my finger – tempted to taste them but I felt we were sharing a moment right then and I wasn't going to spoil it with my sadism. "Oh no Sir," she corrected and still wrapped tightly in my arms said "Because I've sucked seven dicks, fought people, struggled and still after all of that I don't have a dime to show for it. I failed to earn any money at all and you are all counting on me to pull my weight," she balled. That perfect little angel. She was crying because she had disappointed us? Failed us? There was no way with a heart as golden and pure as hers that she could ever disappoint me but I couldn't tell her that – not then. "Shhhhhhhh," I silenced her mewling with my finger to her lips. "It is going to be alright," I encouraged her and she calmed down a bit. "It is Sir?" her eyes widened hopefully. I couldn't look directly into those blue pools of purity – If I did I wouldn't be able to say what I said next. "Sure, I am going to punish you the way I did mom, and then you are going to work until about 2 am sucking cocks and taking dick in all three holes to make up for the money you didn't earn, and then you are going to beg Rahjid to punish you for the condoms and money you didn't bring back. If you count Cash Money that is actually about 9 condoms and about 180 dollars you owe us - then if you are lucky I will string you up out behind the motel and you can do it all over again tomorrow." She was still in my arms and I thought I heard her murmur to herself quietly. "What is that you said?" I pulled her chin up to look at me with my thumb. "Thank you Sir," and I thought I almost detected a smile cross her lips. I never did find out how she escaped from Deacon Dan – I fucking hate it when someone tells you a story and leaves out details like that – they expect me to fill in the blanks from all the hints they dropped about it. My imagination works overtime trying to embellish and come up with a plausible explanation. ------- Chapter 38: Wendy's Journal: Liquor in the Front and Poker in the Rear Note to reader: This is an excerpt of Wendy's journal from Wednesday approximately 10:30 pm from her perspective. The events take place as Wendy gets punished. In order to increase readability, some of the dialogue exchanged was altered to appear in a 'narrative' story format. CASH EARNINGS WEDNESDAY WENDY: $385 JAMIE: $535 I don't think I will win "Mother of the Year" anytime soon. Given that I am a slave to one of my children and the other serves him and her own father with me. I sometimes can't believe I agreed to this and that this is how it is all working out. I bet if someone read my journal they wouldn't even believe what a cock sucking whore I've become –they would think it's all made up. They would have too? I mean would they want to believe a career mom in her late thirties (okay early forties) agreed to become a slave to her husband and son as payback for cuckolding them and treating them like slaves? Wouldn't they just think I was the most rotten meanie ever? That I deserved this and brought it on myself? Speaking of rotten meanies, my son's 'punishment' in front of Mr. Dragovich. I should probably type all the details around that while I have a chance – they have given me a little breather after my ordeal. My daughter is probably out sucking dick after dick earning and after fucking the Principal for free – I'm way behind. It had been about an hour ago when I finished fucking Mr. Dragovich. It is so hard to keep track of time. This night feels like it has gone on and on forever – an unending series of chapters about a series of unfortunate events. There have been some positive highlights like when we left Jerry tied up to dumpster and I still don't even feel that guilty about that. Then there was the punishment my son gave me an hour ago – it was the most grueling and painful punishment I've ever received – at least that I can remember. I had asked "Am I to be punished Master?" knowing that I most likely would be. "Naturally," my son said in his ominous and spooky voice. I would have laughed if I didn't realize that he was seriously going to give me a bite from an apple called hell when he talked like that. "I accept that I am to be punished for being a bad slut and I am ready, Master" I fell upon the protocol that I had learned over the last few weeks about how to accept a punishment. "No you aren't, that cum is still dribbling out of your ass," My son reminded me that I was holding my ass cheeks apart and squatting for a reason. "You've yet to be told what to do with it, and you are in a hurry to get your punishment on so you can get forgiveness for your mistakes?" "Yes sir, I am sorry for being impatient," I realized I had made a grave error in protocol by not waiting until I was told the punishment time had officially begun. "You had sex without the condom, and you really just need an overall attitude adjustment," My son said. "Yes sir," I agreed with him by default without a second thought. "Good," he seemed pleased but in a sadistic way. "You agree with me. I was afraid we might have a dispute over your much needed attitude adjustment cow tits. You could have a standard correction for your one mistake or I will give you a full attitude correction to make up for any of your mistakes that have as of yet gone unreported or unnoticed today – it is your choice." I knew it wasn't really a choice. If I took the easy way out I'd end up with another weight dangling from my clit. "I need an attitude check, Master," I admitted while dripping the last remaining bubble of cum out of my asshole. "Mr. Dragovich, you are welcome to stay and watch," My son invited his principal to stay. "I would not miss this for the world, this is the freakiest thing I've seen that wasn't on pay per view," Mr. Dragovich was delighted at the torment awaiting me and wanted a first row seat. My husband stood in the background with his arms folded – playing the strong, silent type. "I believe all the cum is out of my ass, Sir" I informed them. "Oh goody gum drops!" My son said sarcastically adding "But how can you be sure with an ass as big as a cavern like yours?" My son had a gift for hyperbole. He often exaggerated the size of our tits –to him my melons were Watermelons or "Tig Old Biddies" and his sister's boobs were described as melons when in truth they were probably apples or cantaloupes at best – even hard and full of milk as they were. "No Master, I can't be sure," I admitted hopelessly. I was still coated in a fine sheen of his body hair and sweat as Mr. Dragovich laughed at how pathetic I must have sounded. "Then turn around and bend over so that your nose is right next to your cum droppings and hold those big fat cheeks of yours apart," Chris ordered as if it should be obvious that was the only possible course of action and I complied. I had my nose a hairs breath from the brownish cum that had dripped out of my ass on to a small saucer and kept my hands behind myself as I kneeled – it was not an easy position to hold for long. "Damn Chris! Your mom has a really fine ass," Mr. Dragovich's compliment actually made me smile – I can't believe I was flattered but that is how low I've sunk as a human being now. I used to get compliments on my pretty eyes or smile – now I hear it about my asshole. "Pucker it for Mr. Dragovich," I was slow to follow my son's order and he whipped between my crack with a metal wire. "That's it, let's see you wink it," the three men laughed at my sore ass while I entertained them by pulsing my anus for their amusement. I could feel the lead weight hanging from my clit by a string swinging like a pendulum back and forth between my legs from this position. Without warning I felt my son's finger enter my asshole and fish around. I've felt their fingers this way often enough I can tell his finger from his father's without seeing his face. "If I pull out a wad of cum, you are going to get double punishment, understood Cow Tits?" "Yes Master, of course. That is only fair," I tried to sound submissive and agreeable while my son inspected my asshole thoroughly in the hopes I had left a big wad of cum inside of myself. "You keep calling her cow tits, I get that she has giant boobs, but is there a story behind it?" Mr. Dragovich's voice was right next to Chris behind me. I kept my nose where it belonged – right above the cum that had dripped out of my ass on the floor. "Your mouth isn't being used for anything, tell him why we call you that," My husband's voice was still a bit further back. As excruciatingly embarrassing as it was to have them staring closely at me – a part of me wondered why he was so distant. I don't want to feel like an attention-whore but I was actually a little disappointed he was so aloof while the others were interested. "My name is now Cow Tits sir. My husband and son chose it for me to remind me that I spent our family's money on fake boobies when I could have spent it on more important things. It is also because I produce milk about three times a day Sir," I didn't look up from the cum saucer while Chris fished around in my asshole. Chris twisted his finger inside me hard and prompted me to gasp. I assumed that was a prompt to explain Jamie's name so I added "My daughter is called Ass face to remind her that despite her beauty she is still just an ass face to the men of the house - it was also to help break her of doing that duck face expression, Sir." "Yeah, I hate when girls do that at my school – it looks so stupid," Mr. Dragovich's baritone laughter reminded me of a bond villain's henchman or something. "As opposed to bending over and putting their nose down in the cum you dumped in their ass?" Chris laughed at my predicament and plopped his thumb out like he was pulling a cookie out of a cookie jar. "Hah, well I've never seen them do THAT Chris," Mr. Dragovich's voice became very rigid and polite like an administrator – the subtext was that he was not interested in high school girls even though he was amused at what he was seeing. I actually gained a little respect for him when he said that. "You should hang out with Cathy Griffin and her friends then," Chris joked while sniffing his finger before inserting it into my mouth to be cleaned. I dutifully obeyed and sucked it clean while Mr. Dragovich laughed. He didn't even comment on Cathy and her friends. "You expected me to walk around with a dirty finger?" Chris asked rhetorically and then asked me to tell him what my mouth was good for. "Sucking and swallowing, Master" I answered as I had been trained too but Chris slapped my ass anyway. "Then why do you talk so much with it, instead of using it for its intended purpose?" Chris asked in a tone that let me know I was doing an affirmation now. "I am giving answers to my affirmations and not gossiping or running my mouth, Sir" I was being defensive –because I wasn't sure why Chris would be mad about me talking. I was second guessing if I sounded submissive or reluctant. It could be so hard to tell and be objective. "So this is punishment at the Taylor house, huh?" Mr. Dragovich did not sound impressed. "Hahah, no" Chris slapped my ass hard for good measure. "We haven't even started on the punishment. I am just getting my mom ready to accept what she has coming. "So you are going to have her eat my cum or what?" Mr. Dragovich seemed a bit confused by the formality. I wasn't – my son liked to take his time with me. I pictured him slowly pulling the wings off a butterfly the same way. "I can't eat it Sir, because I have to bring it to Master Rahjid," I spoke accidentally. I didn't mean to talk without being spoken too and my son was quick to spank my ass hard for my mistake. "Did he ask you, slut?" Chris demanded. I knew I had done wrong. I admitted it freely and begged forgiveness. He smacked my ass a few more times for good measure before adding that this would extend my punishment and only proved I needed a good old fashioned attitude adjustment – then he asked me if I agreed. "Yes sir, of course. I should not have spoken out of turn, it was an accident!" I declared submissively. "Accidents happen when we get lax on our discipline of you, cunt" Bill spoke up from the back of the room for the first time and no one said a word in response – the silence just hung there for a moment before dissipating. "My mom can lap up that cum in her mouth or it can be put up her ass and then in her mouth any number of times before we make her turn it in to Rahjid. A lot is going to depend on how she does in the punishment at hand," A slicing pain shot me through as my son pinched my exposed clit between his fingers while he spoke. "Feel how slick she is on her pee-shooter," Chris's thumb mashed my clit and slid up and down. I was wet and he knew it. Mr. Dragovich declined politely but he was enjoying the show – there was no doubt of that. "Only a wicked bitch gets turned on during her punishments, you do know what happens if you are turned on when we are finished?" Chris asked while continuing to drive his fingers into my pussy – his nails scratching the tender flesh of my insides. "I have learned not to anticipate my consequences, Master," I knew that was a trick question from many times in the past when I fell for it and guessed at what happened next. Naturally, I did have a few theories about what would happen and they all ended with me suffering and saying 'ouchie'. "Good slut," he released my clit and withdrew his hands without informing me of the consequences – he liked to keep me in suspense because I think he knows that drives me crazy. "You notice how her asshole puckers when you squeeze her clit like you are making lemonade and then stop?" Chris demonstrated by honking my clit and twisting it hard- providing an easy laugh at my expense when I reacted just as he predicted. "I should make you snort that cum up your nose and go snot it at Rahjid before we begin, would you like that, Cunt?" Chris asked harshly. "What I like or enjoy is irrelevant Master, I am an obedient cum slut and if you order it, I will do as I am told," I knew that that is the right answer but I quietly hoped he was bluffing. "Wow, are you getting hard again Mr. D?" My son joked with the principal standing behind me. There was a quiet pause – "You should keep your eyes on your business Mr. Taylor," the Principal teased my son in the same tone he might have joked with one of the stoners in the hallway to get to class on time or not skip school. I was secretly a little flattered the Principal had gotten hard again so quickly but I didn't want to admit it – was I becoming the attention whore I pretended not to be? I would have to think about that. "You are showing off for our guest and being good," Chris slapped my butt hard while teasing me as if I were usually a trouble maker. "You can have a choice then – you can suck the cum up and spit it into a condom and then shove them up your ass or put them in that big twat of yours or your mouth and deliver them to Rahjid, what do you choose?" "Wow, if she is your slave and does what you want, why do you give her choices?" The Principal was surprised at the cat and mouse game Chris played with me. I knew why – but I could almost sense Chris standing behind me with his finger held up waiting for me to answer. "All three of my holes are for cum, Master," I was still thinking about which one I should pick while I spoke. "If you are asking me which I prefer then I will carry them in my mouth for you, Sir" I answered – my chest was heaving. I should be used to this kind of talk but the principal's presence added some weight to the butterflies that were ever present in my stomach these days. "Is that because it is the easiest one to do, Cow Tits?" Chris smacked my ass to punctuate his question while I held the position over the cum in question. It looked like a little spoonful of pudding – so much talk over such a little gob of DNA. "It might seem the easiest but the real reason is I love the taste of cum, Master," in truth it was going to taste more like the prophylactic jelly – but this sounded like what my son would want to hear coming from me. "If my mom ever went to a sperm bank, they would accept her spit for deposit," Chris slapped my ass playfully and gave me a pinch while he joked with the Principal. "Very nice," Mr. Dragovich wasn't bent over laughing hysterically but he was obviously enjoying himself. "You see Mr. D, the reason I give Cow Tits the choice is very simple," My son started to lecture. "Given the Taylor men hold all the cards in the house it would be very easy and simplistic of us to treat the girls of the house like stupid animals and order them about without any thought – it is after all their place to serve." "I see," Mr. Dragovich answered. "Do you though? Not many understand that by requiring my mom to make a choice I am engaging her in her training. Dad and I have spent a lot of time finding the right ratio of times when we just want it done and the only option is to comply with our wishes and the times we want them to have to stop and think about what we want and the consequences of their inability to give it to us," Chris smacked my ass again as he spoke. "The motivational tool here is that I give up none of my authority by making her play my game. I still hold all the cards, but it is far more interesting to see what the slut will do. Cow tits COULD have impressed me by suggesting she fill up three condoms and put one in each hole," Chris smacked my ass and gave me a chance to speak. "I uh, am Sorry sir, that thought didn't occur to me - but there is not enough cum here really to fill even one condom Sir?" I sounded pathetic and I knew it. I hated to be put on the defensive. "You see? It is also a diagnostic tool to understand her thought process and where she is in her thinking. She could have begged for more cum from the other two cocks in the room but she did not. It is why she is well over due for an attitude adjustment and once we make that correction – we can re-evaluate where her head is at." Chris smacked my ass and rubbed his thumb on my asshole hard before removing his hand. "So you like to give them the illusion of choice so that they feel more engaged in their discipline?" Mr. Dragovich asked. "No illusion at all. My mom has a choice to make when I give it to her to make. She knows there will be rewards for good behavior and consequences for poor behavior of equal measure to the risk and effort she puts forth. This is one of the constants in her life and when I give her that choice I know in that soft little brain of hers," Chris slapped the back of my head a few times to tease me – she is carefully weighing all her options and trying to participate. If I didn't think she could handle the choice – I wouldn't let her make it," I was instantly reminded of my thoughts about being a parent. I hadn't let the kids make tough choices. I had sheltered them. We live in age when schools have sport teams that don't keep score because we want to shelter our kids from the real world and when they get into it – they aren't ready for the fact there are real winners and losers in life. I knew that and yet I still kept coddling them and avoiding letting them make tough choices. I only recently realized when Jamie chose to get the tattoo with me that I need to give them the choices they are READY to make and be ready to pick them up if they fail and reward them if they succeed – much the way Chris had described how he was handling me! "May I bring Master Rahjid the cum in all three of my holes Master?" I knew that is what Chris wanted me to do anyway. "Ah isn't that sweet?" Chris asked Mr. Dragovich "The dumb slut wants to do my idea now because she thinks it will impress you," Chris was mocking me – I guess I don't blame him. I think I was trying to impress them. "You don't sound sincere enough and you don't have enough cum for three condoms – isn't that what you said Cow tits?" Chris was being condescending – I instinctively knew he wanted me to beg for more cum. "Please Master, after holding my nose over this wad of cum for so long I want more, may I PLEASE suck you all off to have enough cum to bring to Master Rahjid in all three of my holes Sir?" I added "Pretty, Pretty Please?" and batted my eyelashes. I knew he couldn't see my face because I was looking down at the ground but I assumed body language would carry in my tone. "Are you convinced she wants my dick?" Chris asked the principal skeptically. "Cow tits does seem to enjoy cock," that was the first time Mr. Dragovich called me 'Cow Tits'. "Is that right Cow Tits? Do you LOVE cock?" Chris asked me in an openly condescending manner. "Yes Sir, I absolutely love cock!" I knew I had to be enthusiastic and smile while I said that. My son poked my asshole with his thumb and twisted it "I don't think I HEAR you, what did you say slut?" "I SAID I LOVE COCK, ESPECIALLY YOURS, PLEASE LET ME SUCK YOUR DICK MASTER" I have to admit a fresh wave of humiliation wafted over me yelling loud enough that people outside the cabana could hear me cry for my son's dick. "It is time I taught you to play the rusty trombone," Chris pulled me up by my hair and spun me around to face him and remove his pants. Mr. Dragovich became a little uncomfortable as Chris stepped out of his jeans. Chris said "Hey, we saw your hairy ass a few minutes ago, the least you can do is watch my mom learn to play the tromboner," he laughed. I was shown how to play his trombone when Chris stood with his knees and back slightly bent and his feet apart to expose his ass for me. I kneeled behind him and was ordered to lick his asshole and reach between his legs to pull his cock up and down like I was playing a trombone. "C'mon, do it to the tune of when the Saint's go Marching In," Chris joked as I moistened my lips and began to tongue dive his asshole. I'd done this to Jamie a few times but never to Chris. It was a whole new experience for me in that sense. After the initial shock of disgust passed, I was playing him the way he wanted. I knew he was trying to fart in my mouth and I let him – what choice did I have. He came after about sixty seconds of "Daba Daw ... Daba Daw ... Daw ... Dawwww" New Orleans style humming on his asshole while I jerked him off in front of Mr. Dragovich and his father but neither of them watched directly. They both averted their eyes. "Clean both piles of goo with your mouth only and spit it into a different condom right away!" Chris demanded while pulling his jeans back on. I obliged kneeling on the floor with my hands holding the empty condom as I spit the contents of what I lapped off the dirty floor back into it. "Dad, you wanna go?" Chris offered my mouth to him. "I don't think I'd be into the rusty trombone, son. We should let our guest Mr. Dragovich take a second turn, I think he is, uh ready," I was secretly disappointed my husband had passed on me – I hate to admit Bill's casual disinterest in me made me want him more. "Oh uh, I am not sure I should get that in front of a student Chris," Mr. Dragovich sounded nervous. "You just watched me get one, don't be ridiculous," Chris laughed the Principal's concerns off. "Well, at least turn around and I'd just like regular head if possible?" Mr. Dragovich asked. "Fine, but you could get a jelly donut if you don't want a Rusty trombone though," My son and husband were already walking out of the cabana as he offered. "I don't know if I WANT to know what that is Mr. Taylor," His principal had pulled his cock out for me to suck and I obliged. This time I was prepared with an open condom to catch his semen after he deposited it in my mouth. "You ARE getting off on this right?" He asked me in a hushed tone. Unfortunately it was while I had four inches of his cock buried in my throat and I couldn't answer as I tickled his balls with my palms – so I just nodded yes. "You LIKE being punished don't you?" I could only nod yes while I engulfed his fat cock with my mouth and looked him in the eyes. I did not enjoy punishment but I was growing to expect and accept it – however I knew it was what he wanted to hear. "You LIKE when your daughter gets punished WITH you, don't you?" He asked in the same hushed tone of someone deep in the throes of ecstasy while I coated his cock in my saliva. He had been so against Jamie's involvement earlier that I wasn't sure what to say here - was this a trick question? I had already established I liked punishment to him and I was okay with my daughter serving this way – but I could see how he might go "AH-HA! I KNEW YOU WERE SICK A ND TWISTED" if I nodded along to this question. I gave him a wide eyed look of naïve innocence – as best as I could manage anyway. "No answer?" he stroked my hair lovingly while I sucked his cock. "That is okay, the real person you have to answer is to yourself," he smiled down at me and then looked back up. His eyes rolled up in his head and his fingers dug into my bare shoulders hard as he orgasmed into my throat. I kept my mouth on his dick even after he finished exploding until he pulled out. I didn't dare swallow as he pulled his pants back on and let the other guys back in. "Did you at least give her a pair of Ray-bans?" Chris joked as he re-entered from outside. I wasn't sure what position that was supposed to be – but I had a few ideas it involved balls on my forehead. "Okay slut, let's see how much cum he deposited in that sperm bank you call a mouth," My son ordered and I opened my mouth wide so that he could see my tongue. "Meh, not a lot," he seemed unimpressed with Mr. Draogvich's second effort in my face. "Go ahead and spit it into the condom, then stuff one in your fat mouth, up your ass and in your twat. I want you to walk across the parking lot SLOWLY to Rahjid. You will wash the outside of each condom in that mouth of yours and thank him for accepting then. You will tell him that you were with a key-holder and your owners and didn't earn any money and then invite him to watch you get an attitude adjustment in the cabana, is that clear so far slut?" "Yes Master, clear as crystal," I was holding the third filled condom in my fingers while I knelt on the floor. "You will then hand him this leash," he clipped a chain link dog leash to my collar "And get on all fours to be walked back over here. If he doesn't want to come watch you get your attitude adjustment you will still crawl back but you will be punished more severely and you can tell him that," Chris said as he slapped me on my bottom while he stood me up. I quickly stuck the first condom in my mouth and then pushed the other two into my cunt and ass. I had to walk a little knock-kneed to keep them in as I made my way across a darkened parking lot totally naked except for a dog leash and a lead weight hanging from my twat. They insisted I carry the dog leash in my mouth like a dog going for "Walkies" along with the condom – saying my mouth was big enough to hold both. There were a few cars but it was fairly deserted otherwise. The street however had a decent amount of traffic slowly passing by and I am sure someone probably saw me – if they did though they didn't honk or stop. "Master Rahjid," I had dropped the first condom in the metal indention where he accepted payment for rooms between the thick glass window of his office. He thanked me in his typically polite but businesslike manner and waited for payment. "I have one more condom in my ass and in my pussy to wash for you, Master" I fished out the one that was in my ass first with my finger. "These are gifts from my owners and a new keyholder," I realized the implication as I said that - now the Principal would be another handler like Steve had been at work. "Oh my, that is jolly good," Rahjid seemed a bit delighted at my discomfort while I washed the second condom with my mouth and fished out the third from my pussy. "They are giving me an attitude adjustment and asked if you would walk me back over so you could observe and participate Sir" I spat the third condom on to the metal without touching it and held my leash up for him to see. "Oh berry good, berry good indeed," He spoke Hindee rapidly to his wife who quietly assumed his station at the window and stepped out of the door to take my leash. I got on all fours and I could feel the sharp pain from the dirty gravel and dust that coated his drive way as they pressed into my knees. "Yes, walk like a doggy, that is how whore should be, not lazy like Ronnie and Doris," he spat in disgust. "You do not think Maya is lazy, sir?" I smiled up at him as he walked me across the parking lot slowly. "I dare not call her lazy, she is my best whore," he said without a second thought and I smiled to myself. It seemed kind of funny to me that he backed down to her for some reason. "You don't think people would think it is strange a naked woman being walked across the parking lot in the nude?" I asked him after we made it half way. We only had to go about five car lengths, but the cold night air blowing on my ass and the slow progress of crawling made it seem like much longer than it was. "I do not give two shit what the people think. If they want room, they get room. If they want hooker, they get hooker. Why do I give shit?" he delivered his overall philosophy in his usual sing-song accent. "It just seems a little over the top," realizing he didn't get that reference I clarified from the ground "a little unusual to be naked on all fours outside in the parking lot?" I asked him – more rhetorically than anything else. "This parking lot see many things. There are people smoke crack behind dumpster, drink all night and sleep all day. Welfare moms who whore out their teenagers, it not like the fancy suburb you live in. People here not give as much a shit about what you do as long as it not affect them. You not shock as many people as you think," he grinned under that thick mustache of his as he walked me up the wooden stairs to my cabana. I remained in the position of a doggy when he took me inside. Chris pet my head "Good doggy, wag your tail" I shook my ass for him. "Where is her passport?" Rahjid watched as I wiggled my ass playfully. He could obviously see that it was missing and my bare asshole was visible –I had grown so used to it that I felt 'naked' without it as if something were missing. "Go get it girl, show Master Rahjid you haven't lost it," Chris ordered me in a condescending voice like he was talking to a puppy and I dutifully obeyed by crawling over to where the butt plug was and picking it up with my mouth. The men giggled – I guess it was pretty funny. "Your mother is well trained whore, why do you punish her?" Rahjid asked Bill. Bill had been doing his 'strong silent' type routine since Mr. Dragovich had shown up. I think that for him, going into his shell is a defensive mechanism around another 'alpha male'. "Ask her," is all Bill said. I dropped the passport from my mouth back on the bed and remained on the floor. "I was a bad girl tonight Sir, I didn't get a condom filled and my son feels that I need an attitude adjustment," he accepted that explanation without a second glance. "And who is this?" Rahjid looked at Mr. Dragovich. "This is Mr. Dragovich my son and daughter's principal. He is now one of my keyholder's" I said. "And Ass Face's!" Chris insisted on adding. "Whoa, What is a key holder?" Mr. Dragovich sounded skeptical. "It means you can fuck her any time you want for free, you can discipline her but not too much – you report on her misbehavior to us if it's anything more than a simple correction, Chris will show you the Do's and Don'ts." Bill spoke more than he had said in the last hour. "Oh wow that is a lot of trust, thanks Mr. Taylor" Mr. Dragovich sounded delighted with the arrangement. There was instant respect passed from him to Bill and while I saw no change in Bill's expression – I knew deep down inside it flattered his ego to seem so magnanimous and powerful. "Basically we want our females to be compliant, subservient, humble and patient. We work hard to keep them honest and explicit in their speech but respectful. They must always refer to any man as Sir and any female as Ma'am except for a fellow slut like themselves – familiarity breeds contempt" Chris went on to explain his core value system while demonstrating on me. "In public a good swift kick or a pinch can do for a simple infraction. When they commit more serious mistakes you should report it to us and we will handle it," Chris had me climb over his knee on the bed. "The go-to of my punishments is the over the knee spanking," He demonstrated by slapping my ass hard telling Mr. D. how I was to count and be thankful. He showed the cadence and the unrelenting rhythm and why it was helpful not to be chaotic and random about it. It shows you are a measured and that the punishment means something. If it does not fit the crime, then it will not matter what the girls do – extreme punishments for minor infractions means that they no longer have real consequences." He demonstrated spanking my tits and had me roll over and spread my legs on the bed to spank my pussy. "This is a cunt spanking, Ladies have vaginas – the sluts of this house have cunts between their legs, don't the y Cow tits?" "Yes Master, Thank you for reminding me!" I grunted between the hard slaps he was bringing down on my labia. He slapped my clit with his finger and said "Only wicked bitches get turned on by this, so if they start to get wet, that in itself is a reason to punish and to change the venue for what you do" He grabbed me by my hair and dragged me to the toilet. "Your standard high school bully punishments work just as well. You want to vary things," He dunked my head into the toilet and flushed the bowl. Then as he lifted my wet face out by my hair he stuck his finger in my ear and twisted "The wet willy". He went on to demonstrate pink indian arm burns and belly slaps and noogies. "You want to make sure they know their entire body can be used to train and humble them and not focus on just one part, even if you like assholes, which I think you do" Chris jammed a thumb up my ass while I was still bent over the toilet. "Any questions so far?" Chris asked Mr. Dragovich about the lesson in discipline he was giving. "Why do the girls let you do this to them?" Mr. Dragovich asked sincerely "Good question! We make the girls answer affirmation questions to reaffirm their place and think about why this arrangement benefits them as well as us," Chris ordered me into position one to answer Mr. Dragovich. With my hair and face still wet from the toilet water I sprung into the familiar stance. "See how her legs are shoulder with apart and her tits are out? Head is straight and she keeps her hands placed on her ass cheeks so that you can see her bare asshole? Tell him why that is Cow Tits." Chris explained first position. "So that my owners can easily inspect my body, but also to keep my hands from mischief and to the purpose of humbling myself before them," I answered as I had been taught. "Also because we just like looking at their asshole," Chris joked to Mr. Dragovich before inserting his dirty thumb into my mouth to be cleaned. I sucked it clean while he asked "What is a slut's mouth good for again?" "Sucking and swallowing Master," I answered obediently around his thumb. "And cleaning your shit off my thumb it seems," He laughed and held out his clean thumb for Mr. Dragovich. "They are used to cleaning their own filth off the dicks and dildos that they get to play with all day long, so always make sure they take care of their training implements." He added "Now Mr. Dragovich had a fairly good question, do you remember it slut or have you forgotten already?" "The reason we agreed to this initially was payback for abusing my husband and son and treating them the way they treat us now. We have since lost our house and my car and gone into debt so we agreed to continue this way until we earn enough to get out of the hole we are in – for the good of the family Sir" "Aww that is sweet," Chris slapped me across the face hard. "The question was had you forgotten his question and you failed to answer it." He turned to Mr. Dragovich "You have to teach them to focus on the question or order at hand and not let them anticipate. These girls are always thinking ahead and not focused on what they are learning. You know some students like that don't you?" "Indeed I do, Mr. Taylor, in fact I thought I gave you that critique last year as your guidance counselor?" the Principal mused. "Yes, and it shows you that I listened because I brought your lesson home to the girls of my house," Chris laughed and twisted one of my nipples. "I ask again did you forget the question you were asked?" "No sir, I remember it," I bit my lip in the exquisite pain caused by the nipple ring and his twisting and smushing of my tit. "Go ahead and answer it then, slut" Chris released my chest and I obeyed. "The reason we agreed to this initially was payback for abusing my husband and son and treating them the way they treat us now. We have since lost our house and my car and gone into debt so we agreed to continue this way until we earn enough to get out of the hole we are in – for the good of the family Sir" The guys laughed at how serious I was being as I repeated the exact same explanation. I guess it was kind of funny from their perspective. "What happens after you get out of this financial hole then?" Mr. Dragovich addressed me directly. "Well, if I've been good after next weekend and I don't have any more weights attached to my body then I guess I go back to normal and don't have to be an obedient slut anymore Sir". I said. "WHAT? These girls are good earner, what you are doing?" Rahjid had not heard that before and I guess I let the cat out of the bag. "The girls don't have to remain your slave Rahjid. This is their choice to be obedient whores for you, it is over when we say it is over, is that clear?" Bill spoke and removed all chance for a rebuttal from Rahjid. "So now that you've had a little warm up as training material for your newest key holder and gave notice to Master Rahjid you will only whore for him until next weekend if you've been good, how about we get on with your REAL attitude adjustment so you can get out and start earning like Ass face?" "Yes Master, I am ready for my attitude adjustment," That was fine by me. "It doesn't really matter if you are ready or not, you are going to get it. We need to keep your mind off going back to being a lazy, self-centered corporate executive next week and back on the task at hand – you understand, Slut?" "Yes Master, I do and thank you for that," I answered obediently –remaining in first position. "You get a choice, you can either play jump the broom or a game of mousetrap. If you do well enough that is all you have to do and you walk out of here a good whore with just one weight," Chris ever the Monty Haul game-master enjoyed making me pick behind his imaginary doors without knowing exactly what either one was. I had a pretty good idea what jump the broom entailed and so I picked a game of mousetrap. I knew from being a little girl we would set up the elaborate board game and get bored long before we finished it and drop the plastic basket on the little mouse icon – it probably involved bondage of some kind. "I will play mouse trap, Master" I said. I didn't know what the rules were for Mouse Trap but I assumed they would be explained to me before I had committed. "Oh goodie," Chris held up a spring loaded wooden mouse trap. The cabana was a rodent's paradise and there were probably dozens of those and roach motels all over the place. "Oh! Can I switch to Jump the broom Master? Please?" I immediately panicked at the thought of a rat's neck being broken by the weight of the heavy bar and what Chris intended to do with it. "Oh look, she changed her mind? That is so cute, should we let our slut change her mind willy-nilly and accommodate her?" Chris looked around at the other guys who were slowly nodding no. "Please sir? That could really hurt!" I was staring right at the big red "V" on the wooden mouse trap as my son held the spring mechanism down. "Physical pain is something that is part of your daily life now, piggy. You do realize that, right?" Chris mocked me. "Sir, Yes I know that but I think that is too much, please no?" I begged. I was near tears. "Get your back against the wall and press hard like you are sitting down on an invisible chair," Chris ordered and I obediently complied without hesitation. "Keep it like that," he blindfolded me with a wash cloth while I begged for him not to do this. "My dick is like a Chinese finger trap, the more you struggle the harder it gets," he snickered. The position he had me in was beginning to hurt even after a few minutes. I could feel my abs straining and my back muscles. "I taught you this in gym class when you were a freshmen didn't I?" Mr. Dragovich mused. "Indeed you did, when I couldn't run laps anymore, you said it would give me washboard abs," Chris laughed. "Well I lied about that, obviously." Mr. Dragovich laughed. I heard the mouse trap spring shut and slam and I yelped and flinched. As a result I was slapped across the tit hard for flinching and then Chris gave me a "frogger punch' on the arm with two of his knuckles. "Don't get froggy, you need an attitude adjustment and this is happening," The first mouse trap was sprung on my tits. It was much smaller than the one he had shown me. It hurt and felt like a bee sting or a sharp bite but once it was on it wasn't so bad. I breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh look, she thinks she can handle it, a tough bitch, huh?" Chris sprung another on my other nipple and I was able to suck that up quite easily. The next went on my clit and I screamed. My son caught my tongue in his chubby fingers and attached a small mouse trap to it as well. That is when the pain became excruciating. "Wow, a dick shaped tongue ring," Mr. Dragovich laughed. I have to admit it probably did look funny dangling there on top of my pink tongue with my tongue stretched out of my mouth and me drooling and gagging. They tried to spring the trap on my asshole and my clit but they couldn't get it to stay on so after several attempts they just started putting them all over me. They would pinch a little fat on the side of my abdomen and let one snap. They put one on my shoulder and neck. I would have screamed but I was past screaming. "Looks like she is going to fall," I was rapidly losing the muscle power to prop myself up by forcing my back against the wall. (Try it sometime it is hard to do). "Here, let's get the little baby a seat appropriate to a slut," I felt a cold sliver of metal enter my asshole. At first I thought it was my passport but it was much smaller and pointier. It was the tip of an umbrella. I couldn't tell if they were smiling, angry, laughing or filming me with their cell phones –the darkness was heightening my sense of touch and humiliation. "Nice tail, it would be cool to watch her pull something with the Umbrella handle – hook it to something," Mr. Dragovich suggested with new-found enthusiasm for my misery. "Yeah, or we could open it up wide once it gets all the way inside of her," Chris laughed. I didn't want to imagine how that would work – but my mind had already pictured it. "Who owns you?" Chris asked me. I mumbled as drool flecked down my chin from the mouse trap holding my tongue. My tongue had fallen asleep and gone numb from the pain. He removed that one so that I could talk but I still had a lisp as I spoke. "You and your father own me, and you've allowed Rahjid to own me as well, Master". "You need attitude adjustments don't you, cow tits?" Chris asked. "Yes Sir, thank you for this" my body was electric and numb at the same time. "Is there nothing too depraved and disgusting for you to do?" Mr. Dragovich took a turn asking me. It was a good question – one I had not been asked out loud. I had to think about it for a moment. A hundred encounters from sucking dicks behind a fast food restaurant to sticking a cum filled condom up my asshole and delivering it to my pimp ran through my mind. "There is nothing my owners have ordered me to do that I wouldn't do Sir" I answered truthfully. I was starting to get feeling back in my tongue and control of my breathing now. "That wasn't the question," Mr. Dragovich said. "Then slap her tit and let her know about it" Chris reached out and slapped my tit for him. "I asked you if there was nothing too depraved and disgusting for you to do, not would you do the things you have already done," Mr. Dragovich clarified but his slap never came. I was still blind folded and someone was playing with my nipples – making them super hard and teasing them with their fingers. The pain from the mouse traps digging into my flesh while my muscles screamed in agony as I tried to hold a sitting position against the wall with a metal tip of an umbrella up my ass should have had me in tears – but I think I was past crying at this stage. The intense humiliation of what I was doing with my life and with whom I was doing it with – a stranger, my son, and husband and the stimulation of my nipples being teased and tormented made it near impossible to concentrate on the question at hand. "I don't think there is anything I would not do at this point, Sir," I gasped. I was cumming – orgasming. I've not had a lot of full blown orgasms since this started – but this was definitely one. I am sure it was in part the emotional and physical destruction I had just faced while blindfolded. I began to spasm as I felt my cunt lips part and I could tell it was Bill's cock that was entering me. I've had it enough times that I knew his smell and the feel of him right away. He kissed my lips – full deep tongue kisses. He pushed himself up against me and held my arms above my head while he fucked me right there against the wall. I wasn't sure if the other three men were watching and frankly I didn't care. He had lit a fire in me and I felt completely powerless to stop the full flow of my orgasm. I was calling my husband's name "Bill" over and over – he seemed to feed off my vulnerability. In the end I found myself on the floor spasming – I had blacked out before it was all over. I could hear Chris laugh and tell me to get cleaned up after a swift kick to my ass. "The female orgasm is like the hole in the donut. It does not exist – but yet it is there," Rahjid was joking as the blindfold and mousetraps were removed from me. There was a tremendous sense of relief washing over me as I staggered into the bathroom. It was there that I was able to tap out most of this journal while I dried my hair and redid my makeup. I think the men sensed I needed a little time to collect my wits after that complete mental and physical fucking I had received. I walked out of the bathroom and only Bill and Chris remained. "Good slut, I am going to remove the weight from your twat," Bill said as he put his arm around my shoulder and caressed one of my bruises while Chris removed the weight with the snip of a pair of scissors. "Don't think we won't hesitate to add it back if you fuck up tonight," he gave me a reassuring kiss on the cheek. "Yes Master, of course not, I know you will," I smiled. The kindness was unexpected. "Thank you Sir," it was as if the shared pain and intensity of that experience had made us both grow so much closer. "May I put on my clothes so I can start working Sir?" "Have you some cum to return to Rahjid?" Bill asked me impatiently. If Bill had cum inside me – I hadn't noticed. I felt intensely embarrassed that I hadn't realized it. "In the intensity of the attitude adjustment I didn't realize – did you cum inside of me Sir?" I felt it was safest just to go ahead and ask. "Hahah, mom really pulled a Jamie," Chris laughed about how I had looked when I orgasmed and made a face to mock the expression I must have made. I wanted to give him a lemony sour puss grin in return like Jamie would have but I was mentally exhausted and just accepted it. "Should I get on all fours and wait for it to drip out Master?" I asked Bill who was just staring at me with silence. I felt a twinge of embarrassment that the thought of doing that for him now seemed so natural and normal to me – like I was becoming the well trained cum hound they said I was and not just playing along. "No," he said after a short pause to illustrate the fact that the conversation moved forward when he decided it did. "If someone eats you out tonight, I want them to taste me. Consider my cum lubricating that twat of yours a gift from me to you," he said in a very matter of fact tone. "Liquor in the front, poker in the rear," Chris laughed. I used to be pretty good in English class but I, for the life of me couldn't remember what it was called. I had to look it up after I typed up my journal – Malapropism is what it's called when you do that. "Get dressed pig, the night is wasting and I am sure Jamie has a few hundred on you tonight," that prompted me to put back on the short skirt and 'I love black cock' shirt. Once I had it on he rushed me out the door into the cool night air. I thought I saw Jamie hobbling back to the room as I was leaving but I saw a car slow up by the sidewalk and ran up to see if I could turn a trick. "Hello sir, can I have a ride?" I asked. He seemed shy and I knew that was a good way to get in the car so we could talk business. "You are too pretty – must be a cop," he stuttered and drove off. I blame that show "Cops" on TV for making so many people wary of the world's oldest profession. This is just a business transaction between two consenting adults –right? Well my daughter isn't quite an adult yet, but you get my meaning, don't you? I had a few more false starts like that one before a white Mercedes Benz pulled up and a handsome black man with a pretty blonde girl rolled down their window for me. "Are you looking to party tonight?" they asked. That was a good line – I will have to remember to say that in the future to guys who stopped. "I am not looking to party, but I am down to fuck if that is something you want, Sir?" I said. They looked at each other and then back at me. "That bitch has the same collar on as the other girl, you think this is her momma?" he asked the blonde slut whose name I didn't learn. I knew they must have run into Jamie. "Yes Sir, you must have run into my daughter out here," I was still bent over at the window trying to talk to them. "That bitch be crazy, she ... she broke off my earing," the blonde girl pouted. That didn't sound like Jamie at all. They drove off quickly without another word – leaving me wondering what had happened between them. It wasn't long before another car pulled up. This was the time of night that is the busiest and just standing out on the sidewalk can get you some decent traffic. I had seen a few other girls –not just Rahjid's whores out and I nodded hello to them. I was standing in front of a Church's Fried Chicken when a blue 1980s Chevy Malibu pulled up at the light and honked at me. The man in the car looked familiar to me but I didn't think anyyhing of it. He looked a little disturbed and angry. "Are you looking to party, Sir?" I asked him with a smile – a new line I had just picked up. "Wendy Taylor?" he looked at me with disbelief- he knew me and I was sure I knew him. "Do I know you Sir?" my heart dropped down to the pit of my stomach. So many co-workers and neighbors knew of my fall from the suburbanite to slut but it always opened a fresh patch of humiliation when someone whose opinion of me I once valued learned of my fall from grace. "You used to visit my church, get in," he sneered. I should have taken that as a sign that something wasn't right. I did as I was told and went over the prices with him and asked him who he was. "Deacon Dan," I still wasn't registering who he was when he introduced himself. "The wages of sin are prices that you will pay, just like your harlot of a daughter" he sped off into the night with me in the passenger side of the car and I suddenly felt more in danger than ever before. The Family Feud IV ------- Chapter 39: Jamie's Journal: Not all who wander are lost Note to reader: This is an excerpt of Jamie's journal from Wednesday approximately 11:30 pm from her perspective. The events take place as Jamie receives the same attitude adjustment her mom received. In order to increase readability, some of the dialogue exchanged was altered to appear in a 'narrative' story format. CASH EARNINGS WEDNESDAY WENDY: $385 JAMIE: $595 My respect for my mom increases every day this training continues. I don't think she would win most people's idea of "Mother of the Year" on principle – but she has my vote. I had agreed to the same attitude adjustment my mom had just received. I could have held that position sitting against the wall all night – it barely caused a strain and was a good work out for my abs. At first I thought they were joking when they showed me the mouse traps. I even suspected it would be something else when they blindfolded me - the old bait and switch to terrorize the piss out of me and then use something not quite as painful. I was wrong. Oh mother of god was I wrong. The first time one of the mouse traps bit into me I nearly cried right then. It crushed my nipple between the metal spring and I had to move my arms to prop myself against the wall. I could feel tears rush out of my eyes as they made me wait for the second trap to be sprung on my other tit. "Please Sir, nooooooooooo," I squawked but my Brother and Dad were without mercy and I knew that. They popped more of the small mouse traps around my body. They were hanging from the sides of my stomach. I'm pretty lean and don't have a 'muffin top' at all – but my brother likes to tease me and that is what he called it. "Oh my Gawwwpppptthhhhhh" I managed to scream when they trapped my tongue with a tiny mouse trap and I could not close my mouth. I nearly choked as I spasmed. "Did you remember to make your mother clean off the umbrella before she left?" I heard Dad say to Chris. "No that lazy bitch totally forgot," Chris removed the mouse trap from my tongue and shoved the cold steel end of an umbrella tip into my mouth "Clean it bitch, it's your mom's brown she left for you," I didn't taste anything but the stainless steel but he nearly gagged me with it. If I hadn't become good at deep throating I am sure I would have vomited. "Stick out your tongue," Chris demanded. I was crying and snot was running down my nose – so I hesitated. He punched me in the abdomen and I immediately complied. –SNAP- a mouse trap was sprung back on my tongue. Then I felt the umbrella being inserted up my ass as I squealed. "Oh shush, you take bigger dicks than this in your sleep, just enjoy it," My dad said sarcastically while patting me on the thighs "Spread them" and he parted my slit. I felt a dick enter me as I was pressed flat against the wall and stood up. I wasn't sure if it was Chris or Dad or someone else entering me. It did not matter to me – but with the blindfold it made me wonder. After a few thrusts I could tell it must be Dad and not Chris from the hair on his chest and the size of his cock -Dad is a little smaller but thicker. "You are too tight, relax that cunt." Dad ordered as he fucked me hard against the wall and pulled my hands up over my head so that he had total control over me. I tried to do as he said but I was tight and sore and my entire body ached from the intense attitude adjustment. I resolved myself that if mom had done this – I could too! "Here, bend her over the bed, and let's row-boat her" Chris removed the painful trap from my tongue and the umbrella from my ass and they bent me over the bed. Then Dad got behind me and Chris got in front and they began to fuck me from both ends –pussy and mouth. "Let's switch positions," Dad sounded frustrated and while treating me like a blow-up rag doll they just swapped positions. "Were you in her Asshole or cunt?" Chris asked my Dad. "Cunt," Dad said as if it should be obvious while stuffing his hard dick into my open mouth. "Okay, I am going in dry" Chris forced his dick into my ass with very little resistance – the butt plug had made me ready for just about anything. Chris came first and he high fived dad over my back before pulling out after shooting his load into my asshole. Dad finished a few minutes later on his own without saying a word and wiped his cock in my hair. I remained bent over the dirty mattress the way they had left me like a forgotten toy left out of its toy box. "I was expecting her to pull a Jamie like Mom did and flop around like a fish out of water," Chris was gasping for air as he sat on a chair. "Yeah," was all Dad, the man of few words added. I felt like I had disappointed them by not giving them the performance they wanted to see. I hadn't felt the primal rush of orgasm that prompted those kinds of displays and I knew it would not be genuine – especially now to pretend. "What Should I do, Sirtth?" I finally asked with the cum still in my mouth as they left me there. "Oh, go ahead and eat the cum in your mouth. Then squat on the floor and drip my cum out of your ass, then eat that and go dry off and clean up. You have five minutes to get dressed and out on the street making us some money," Chris said like a spoiled brat listing off a wish list of impossible gifts to Santa Claus. "Yes Master," I swallowed the cum on my tongue and kneeled on the floor to let my brother's cum drip slowly out of my ass for their amusement. When Chris gained his breath back "Was that a good attitude adjustment?" he started to remove the mouse traps from my body and the blood felt great rushing back into my extremities – it had cut off my circulation. "Yes Sir, it was" I said trying to silently push out the cum without farting. At the last minute I knew he would enjoy it anyway so I made a fripping sound as I forced air out of my cunt and asshole to move the process along and squirt the cum out of my blow hole. As I suspected both Chris and Bill laughed when they heard the queefing. "Your daughter's fart chamber is locked and loaded," Chris laughed and Dad smiled back. "Get that cum out a little quicker or I am going to pack it back up there farther, understood?" Dad said. "Yes Master, may I use my finger to help get it out?" I asked trying to be helpful. "No you may not you fat cunt, you can blow it out your back door like your mom did," Dad answered angrily. I let out another series of petite little farts and once I was sure that I had dripped it all out I asked if I could eat it. I resisted the overwhelming urge to scrunch my nose at how gross it must have sounded to them and how disgusting I must have seemed. "Yes, you can you little cum-slob," Chris was luxuriating on the mattress now while he ate cherries and drank from one of those Capri-Sun envelopes of fruit punch. It reminded me of how long it had been since I had anything real to eat or drink but I said nothing – I just turned around and began to sip up the dirty cum from my ass. As I was bent over, Dad slipped my license back up my ass. "Thank you Sir for returning my license to its rightful hole," I looked up and acknowledged it but he didn't even say you're welcome. He just slapped me on the ass and told me to get dressed. He was spent and now that he had cum, he was wanting to relax. I think that with men, they go through bursts of intensity and then they need another period of quiet contemplation after they have sex or masturbate. "I saw Big Mike's tattoo parlor earlier Sir" I said while I stood up and started to put my clothes back on. "The guy from the fair," I reminded them. "Cool, we should get you a new tattoo that says 'I talk too much and never shut up'," Chris joked and I got the hint he didn't want any small talk as I walked out the door without so much as a good luck or goodbye. I was surprised I had not received a full affirmation either- my mom seemed to thrive on those for motivation but I am not sure how I felt about them. I guess they work. I was still a little gun shy about walking the streets after what had just happened to me earlier tonight. My brother had made me painfully relive every moment of it for him and that had kept the thoughts of the dangers of the streets planted in my mind. I knew most of the tricks just wanted to get serviced and drop a load and move on. I just had a run of bad luck I assumed. I wondered as I walked around the parking lot looking for a customer what had happened to Mr. Dragovich and what I would do when (if) I saw him in school. I hated to be kept in suspense – but in a way it turned me on and made me horny. Then again – so many different stimulations could make me horny now. Even sitting with my legs closed because my labia was being elongated by that piercing made me wet or when cold air was directed on my body – it sent so many strange feelings that I've never had before to my brain's pleasure center to process. I walked back to the Cabana and knocked on the screen door. "Sirs I almost forgot," I said to Dad and Chris who were lying around the room. "May I please clean my ass marks off the umbrella you fucked my ass with?" I said as sweetly as I could. "You nasty, little cum gobbler, get in here and clean it off," Chris said with a gleam in his eye. "If I were Willy Wonka I'd give you the Chocolate Factory right now for returning the everlasting gobstopper," he smiled while I deep throated the end of the umbrella. "Should I clean your cocks as well, Sir?" I asked back. I hadn't stripped – although I thought I was supposed to upon entering the room. "Oh always an ulterior motive with you, you love cock THAT much that you'd use any excuse to get in here and taste mine?" I knew Chris was kidding but in a way I wondered if I had volunteered for this on purpose. So much was happening so fast – and it was so confusing. "You know me well Sir" I gave him a wintry smile in return while returning the umbrella to its place. "Denied" he threw a dirty sock at my face and told me to "scram" so I returned to the streets to hunt down a paying customer. I was able to turn a few tricks before the night was over and make about sixty dollars. Most of them were nice old men who just wanted a cute girl to lick their dicks and tell them how great they were – I obliged. Each time I completed a trick I walked to Rahjid's office and dropped a spent condom and the money in exchange for a dirty look from Rahjid's wife and a curt 'thank you berry much' as she went back to vacantly staring into the darkness of the parking lot through the glass window. My pussy was sore, my ass was sore, my tits were sore - my entire body was sore. I was bruised and wore out, my hair had been pulled, I had been burnt by a crack pipe and spanked and smacked –fucked up and down and sideways. It had been a hard day of work and service but it would soon be over – only to start again tomorrow I was sure of that much. I reported to the Cabana promptly at 2 a.m as I had been told. It was then that Mom and I were to be measured. I had seen Ronnie and Maya out on the street but I hadn't run into Doris or Mom. I assumed they were busy fucking and sucking and hadn't thought much about it. When I got to the Cabana mom was already kneeling and naked on the floor in front of Dad, Chris and the Cop from earlier today. Even though it had been hours since I last saw him it felt like it had been ages. "Hello Sirs, am I late?" I asked politely as I walked into the cabana. "Get naked slut, and assume the position," I didn't know what position Chris was telling me but I took "first position" after I quickly removed my dirty cum-stained clothes and stood next to mom with my ass cheeks apart. "Good girls," Officer Mark remarked in his thick Boston accent. "Your mom was just telling us the story of how she had to escape in the night with no clothes and no money and why we shouldn't attach a dozen weights to her ass for lying to us," Dad said. Mom had her hands behind her head with her fingers interlaced together and it was clear she had been whipped on the back quite a bit. She had told them that Deacon Dan had drove her to his make-shift half-way house and forced her to fuck all the bums that were there and then beat and whipped her. She had made an escape but had to leave her passport, clothes and money behind. "So now are you too scared to walk the streets?" Dad asked my mom. She thought about it hard. "No sir, the bruises and cuts will heal. I am committed to finishing what I agreed too. I just ask that Jamie have..." "Who?" Dad slapped my mom's tits with a flyswatter. "Ass face not have to do this anymore. I think Deacon Dan intends to find her and do worse to her if he does. He told me so. He seems to think women are the reason his life is in such an upside down state." "Aren't women the reason any one has to pay alimony and have their cock tied in a knot witt blue bah-lls?" Officer Mark was chewing gum while he spoke. "Ass face, you ran into Deacon Dan tonight right?" Chris asked me. "Yes sir," I answered and he slapped my ass. "Go ahead and elaborate," he told me. That frustrated me because he had told me not to anticipate questions but I did as I was told. I told them about how he recognized me from children's church and had said that he was accused of molestation and lost his wife and kids. That he had taken me to the same place he took mom and I sucked them off and barely escaped. "So you think it's too dangerous for you out on the streets, Ass face?" Dad asked me. "She didn't even mention the pimp that tried to recruit her tonight," Chris teased me and jabbed a finger hard into the muscle of my right butt cheek. "It's weird out there. There are a lot of strange requests but most of the guys just want to get off and not be hassled. I don't mind doing it if mom is going to do it with me," I said after making up my mind that that is how it would have to be. "So if next Sunday you have a huge string of weights on your twat and tits and your mom is free of this, are you going to want to pussy out and stop?" Chris asked skeptically. "That isn't going to happen Sir, I am a good slut and I will be weight free before mom is," I smiled impishly at him. "Oh wipe your mouth," Chris jabbed another finger in my ass "There is a little bullshit on the side of your mouth," he laughed. I wiped my mouth just in case he was serious and quickly returned my fingers to hold my ass cheeks apart. "So dis is where I offer you the protection plan of the boys in blue," Officer Mark said. "Your base is two hundred a night just so you don't go downtown and have to sit the night in jail. You are paid up for tonight," I didn't handle any of the money but I assumed that Dad and Chris had paid for us. "If you want special protection then it's five hundred a night and a cop will check on them once an hour. They will suck a dick for the Officer and he'll keep her safe – five hundred a piece. You know violence against women – it goes up and up, such a shame." He seemed like he really didn't care. "That seems like a fair deal," Dad extended his hand to agree to the price. "Sir, I know the men of the house rule, but can we have a say?" I blurted out quickly. This was six hundred more dollars and I don't know what mom earned but I would have barely earned enough to cover my protection money. "You know I would not mind sucking the dicks of the officers for free if you wanted me too," I started out – trying to keep my mind off the fact that I didn't think most cops were that dirty and perverted. "However, I would rather you just say I don't have to serve Deacon Dan or Cash Money even if they have money and we can fight back if we need too. We worked hard for this money and it won't be much if we pay 1,000 a night in protection money, Can we just pay the two hundred Sir?" My Dad seemed to think that over and then Chris answered for him "The dumb shit makes a lot of sense sometimes, I agree. If your guys see them on the street they can just ask for a BJ and they'll suck them off with a condom for free but we'll take the basic protection plan for now." He extended his hand to shake Officer Mark's hand. "You may regret dat, but to each their own, have a good night ladies," he tipped his hat and sauntered off to his patrol car. "Good thinking skeet-bucket," Chris complimented me and then squeezed one of my nipples hard. "Thank you Sir," I smiled sweetly back at him. I was quietly very proud of myself for standing up and saying what was right. "Too bad you have to spend the night with a broom up your ass tied up outside," the smile on Chris's face told me he wasn't joking at all. I did my level best not to act exasperated that after all this I would have to face that punishment. "Yeah, you remember earlier today when you were sentenced to spend the night out there with your little white ass hanging out?" I did remember what Chris was saying and I told him so. "Good, well Dad wants to take Mom home and fuck her brains out and then put her outside with your lover Roscoe tonight – so you are going to have to play hangman out there by yourself." He laughed. I wasn't sure if I should envy mom or be afraid for her. "You sure you don't want to change your mind about working the streets now?" Chris laughed. I started to open my mouth and he said "Too late," and snapped one of the handcuffs he bought at the toy store around my wrist. "Carry this" he stuffed a can of Crisco shortening in my hand. Then he hustled me completely naked out into the parking lot without the least bit of concern for who saw – like he owned the place. "Wow, what do I see appear but ten extra pounds of hips, thighs and rear," Chris said to Doris who was hobbling in her busted mini-skirt to her own cabana. "Chut up Chris, choo don't know how bad I had it tonight, poppy" the busty and short little prostitute said in her thick new York accent. Her hair was tussled and she looked kind of a mess. She paid no attention to the fact I was following my brother completely naked with one handcuff on my wrist and carrying a can of Crisco. My brother took me behind the cabanas where he had tied mom up the night before. The plastic ties were still in place but he cuffed me so that my hands were above my head and apart. "I could have left one hand uncuffed so you can masturbate all night, would you have liked that?" I actually would have. I hated the fact that I did, more than the fact that he seemed to know I would have. It made me feel really dirty. "No sir, you can tie me up so that my hands aren't tempted to mischief" I answered. It made me feel vindicated to say what I was supposed to say – even though it meant a night of being helpless and bound. Then he cuffed my ankles to the wall. I was spread so that I was fully exposed to the elements and low enough to the ground that my head was waist level. He removed my license from my ass and had me clean it with my mouth. "I will keep this for safe keeping so you don't lose yours like mom did." "You are lucky, I am going to grease up that pink fart box of yours," he slathered the white lard in the Crisco can I had brought outside all over my asshole rim and all up inside it. "You sluts have been training to take it up the ass dry with just your own juices - but this broom is a little wider than you are used too, so I am being nice." I couldn't tell if that was sarcasm or he really felt this was a comfort. Then as I expected, he took a broom handle and inserted it up my ass slowly at first until it was in a good six inches and hanging by itself. He pulled it a little to make sure it wouldn't just fall out quickly. "This better be up here when someone comes to get you in the afternoon or you will regret it." "May I please take a shit before you leave me this way Sir?" I begged – I could feel the pressure mounting in my lower intestine as soon as the broom entered my ass. "Hahaha, no hold it in, BUT you can piss all you want" he smacked my clit with his fingers to expose how wide it was for me in this position. "I like how I've got you tied up here, your head is right at waist level, your legs are spread as wide as they can go and your hands are up above you where you can't do anything with them – basically sis you are fucked!" he chuckled. "Here, I do have one thing to leave you with though," he unzipped his pants and stuffed his hard dick in my mouth. "I've cum a bunch of times tonight. Let's see if you can get me off one more time Sis". I sucked his dick until it stiffened and used my teeth to nibble the edge under his cock head to get him off. When I thought he was about to cum he pulled out and blew his cum all over my face. It wasn't a lot but enough to get all over my eyes and nose. "You look so cute, that button nose of yours," he 'booped' my nose with his finger and then made me lick the finger clean. He told me that Mom had said some local kids had kept her company while she waited to be taken down and he expected me to be just as amusing before he left me there with the cum to dry on my face. "Thanks for the nut sis" he laughed as he walked away. I pictured him getting into a soft, warm, safe, and toasty bed at home and laughing about the stupid sister who chose to be treated this way before passing out. Then there was nothing but silence and night air. I felt so disgusting and dirty being exposed like that and I felt so helpless and completely confused about my motivations. I also felt this naughty sort of twisted pleasure at my situation that I can't quite explain but most of all I felt the tremendous need to go to the bathroom and also have my tits milked – they had become full again since earlier. I found that after what was only ten minutes the gnats started buzzing around my face and I found my wrists and ankles falling asleep. I wondered how mom had handled it and wished I could pass out but I found it difficult to sleep. I tried counting the cracks in the pavement below my feet. I was elevated just slightly off the ground. In the soft glow of the one street lamp I memorized all the weeds and ant hills and dirty little cracks in the walls around me. There was a small row of cabanas behind the ones in the parking lot that were obviously long term rentals. The people had strollers and tires and other junk on their front porches. I tried not to think about what it will be like when I first get discovered in the morning. Instead, I just tried to will myself to sleep but I couldn't. If I could pass out then the time strung up against the wall would pass quickly. Unfortunately, that was not to be. I stared up at the moon and counted the stars. I listened to the wind blowing through my legs. I whistled and hummed and sang myself a little tune – but time just did not move faster for me. I hated having all this time to think about what had happened to me tonight and the past few weeks. So many confusing thoughts and time to doubt and relive each decision I've made up to now. To be honest, I hated the fact that my cunt was dripping wet and my nipples felt like they were going to explode like torpedoes anytime soon. I am sure I was wet in part because of how exposed I was – the very wind was eating me out. I tried to think about Mr. Young from school – a handsome teacher I have long had a crush on. I tried to think about Bradley Jenkins – the older boy who I've had more than just a crush on but only recently met. Instead, my thoughts kept coming back to a neighbor of Mrs. Waxerman, the old man next door that I was introduced to by her niece when she was disciplining me. I had only fallen asleep for a few moments when he stood in front of me. It was broad day light – "Doctor Hooker?" I asked. "I thought I would find you here, do you want me to take you down?" the kindly college professor seemed concerned for my wellbeing. I had no idea how long I had been sleeping but it was bright daylight around me. "No sir, if I am not found like this with a broom up my ass I will be punished," I said kindly. "My dear, I would imagine that the punishment IS being found like this with a broom up your ass, wouldn't you say?" he chuckled in a good natured way. "Yes, I suppose you are right, Sir" I said as he started to open my handcuffs and let me down."I've got a problem Sir," I said like a school girl with a crush on an older professor. "Don't be so modest my dear girl, I would imagine you have quite a few," he smirked at his own implication that I had many problems. "Yes well, I really need to be permitted to shit and to milk my tits before I explode, may I?" I asked. "You think you need my permission to relieve yourself?" he smoked a pipe. I noticed he was dressed in one of those quintessential tweed jackets with the brown elbow pads that learned professors always wear in the movies. "I think I do, yes sir, don't I?" I asked him wistfully. "Not all who wander are lost, my dear" he said with a wink after he touched his nose. I started to ask him how he even found me and what he meant by that as I rubbed my wrists and ankles but felt no relief in them. He shushed me with a finger to my mouth and added "Life is a rollercoaster, it has its ups and downs but it is your choice to scream and enjoy the ride." I heard him make a choo-choo noise and call me Cherry. A name my father had given me at the county fair that he would never have known when we were goofing around. That is when I woke up from the dream I was having – the doctor had never been there at all! Two black boys were pulling my nipples and making choo-choo noises. It was daytime but I was still strung up to the cabana and spread wide open with the broom handle firmly up my ass. It hadn't felt like I had slept at all but obviously I had nodded off. I awoke with a headache and a stuffy nose. My face felt tight where the cum had dried on my nose and lips and my arms and legs were so sore from being stretched and tied against the wall. It was still morning – I could feel the cool morning air and see the sunrise in the distance. "She awake," one of the boys said. "No she aint, choo choo train be dreamin" he continued to pull on one boob while pushing the other like they were pedals and making a "Shuk-a-shuka-shuka-" noise. "I wish I was dreaming Sir," I said and surprised him. "Oh shit, she awake!" the boy made a funny face of surprise and released my boobs. "Every morning a different white lady be out here, where that other one at?" he squinted at me skeptically. "My mom is home I think, Sir" I knew he was talking about Mom. "What you name is?" his voice was scratchy but cute. I wanted to ask him to tell me his first. He didn't seem to be the least bit surprised by how obscenely my legs were held wide open and what was up my ass. I felt like him and the Waxerman boys would probably have gotten along quite famously. "My name is Ass Face, Sir" I felt so ridiculous admitting that to them out loud. They laughed and looked at each other. "That aint you real name!" one of them demanded. "No sir, it's the name I go by now, what is your name?" I replied sweetly. "This here is Tiontay and my name is Dante'," the older one said. The one named Tiontay covered his face like he was embarrassed I knew his name. "What is the matter, Sir?" I asked Tiontay graciously. "Nuffin" he answered but then put his hands back over his mouth like he was scared and nervous. "Can I ask why you have your fingers over your mouth then, Sir?" I laughed playfully. "You look like Taylor Swiff," he took his hands off his mouth just long enough to say that and put them back where they were. "I've heard that before Sir," I was actually flattered though. "I don't suppose I look that much like her this morning, I must look like a wreck?" I knew my hair was all jacked up and my makeup had run down my face. "What this on you face?" Dante poked at my nose. I smiled at him and I wasn't sure what to say. "That is a gift from my brother from last night Sir," I smiled quietly. I know I am supposed to be explicit and not use euphemisms but I felt like that was the right answer here. "That is pee?" Dante' asked me – unwilling to accept my vague answer. "Afraid not, no Sir" I smiled playfully. "It says aseo público' on your chest. That means you are a bathroom, right?" the boy spoke perfect Spanish – at least it sounded like perfect Spanish to me. I wasn't sure how to answer that. I decided to change the subject and ask "So you kept my mom company yesterday, Sir?" "She won't answer, she won't answer!" Tiontay removed his hands from his face long enough to chant that twice and put them back to cover his mouth. "Are you sure you want answers to the questions you are asking Sir?" I smiled impishly at them. I tried to flash them my eyes and give them the baby doll look so they might feel a little bit of empathy for having me over a barrel. "You kind of have me at a disadvantage here. As you can plainly see, I can't really close my legs or cover myself and I am sure you've both had a good long look at me while you played train with me while I was asleep, Sir" "You talk funny," Tiontay announced with his hands covering his mouth like he was trying to hold the words in. "Yes I do, Sir" I admitted but before I could finish I heard a woman yell something in Spanish. Dante' took a swipe at one of my tits as if he were tagging me and the two boys ran off to the house that the yell came from. After a few minutes Doris walked outside. She looked much different in the daylight. I hate to sound mean but if you have ever seen the actor Luis Guzman – she looked kind of like that but with a little less facial hair. The bags under her eyes were heavy and she grunted and belched as she walked. She didn't have on her makeup or a wig and her hair was short, tight and curly in an afro. She wore a full body frock – I think they are called a Mu-mu she had obviously thrown on to walk outside and was still wearing her house slippers. She looked me up and down "Oy Madre'" she laughed at me at first. "You giving my boys lessons in pubic anatomy?" she put her hands on her waist. I wasn't sure what 'pubic anatomy' was but I think she was making a joke. I could see Tiontay and Dante' hiding in the doorway of the cabana watching me from a distance. "I am afraid I've got no choice in the matter, Ma'am" I smiled. "Your pimps really do a number on you girl, why you let them do you like this?" Doris's saucy accent emerged and I realized she must be Puerto Rican or black or maybe a mix of both. "You really look like Chit, Puta". Doris was sucking on a lollipop and she really didn't seem like she cared all that much about the fact I was hanging completely naked and cuffed in front of her home. Even though her words were sympathetic her tone was more impatient – like she was expected to express concern for me and she was doing her best. "I am so sorry about this, Ma'am" I apologized anyway. I felt awful that her sons had just seen me spread wide from all angles and mauled my breasts while I slept naked in front of their house. I would expect anyone who saw a girl tied up in front of their house would call the police and think she needed rescuing. Doris stood there licking her dum-dum lollipop as if she was recovering from a hangover. If she didn't think I needed rescuing the only other thought that could cross any reasonable person's mind is that I intentionally was showing myself off. I could imagine a mother's rage that a flasher – even a female one was outside in front of her young sons exposing herself this way. "Sorry to me? What for?" She seemed almost amused that I had apologized– how could she not be shocked by seeing me out here like this? I know as a hooker she has probably seen and heard a lot of things before – but I thought this wasn't one of them. "For being like this in front of your boys, Ma'am" I answered apologetically with a tone of concern that she didn't realize what my apology was for. "No hay de que amiga, I am naked around the house all the time Sister, it is not a big deal. I was more worried they would pull your tits off," she laughed at her own joke and licked her sucker. "Do you want me to take this broom out of your caboose?" she reached down and felt the wooden handle of the broom. "No please? I will be punished if they come to release me and the broom is gone, Ma'am" I had grown used to the feeling of the broom in my ass – it was also all that was keeping me from explosively taking a dump right there. "Holy chit, that is F'd up, mommy. I would never let my pimp do me this way," she had a black-eye and I could tell she was missing a tooth when I saw her in the light – but I couldn't be sure if her pimp did that or someone else so I just nodded. "You can't let your brother do you this way, get a new pimp, mommy". "Hey you lazy puta, what is wrong with a brother for a pimp?" a big Hispanic looking man emerged from inside their cabana wearing a white wife-beater and underwear as he stretched and yawned. "Shut your mouth Hermano, you aren't no pimp," Doris dismissed the man on the porch with a shrug and a sordid look. "Get back inside and stop staring at this little chica," she laughed. "There aint no bacon or sausage biscuits, you want me to tie you up outside?" he was clearly kidding. He reacted to my being naked and handcuffed against the wall as if it were a practical joke the way someone might of if their neighbor's house had just been toilet papered on Halloween night. "Hector, You aint gonna do nothing," she shot back at her brother. "Now get your fat Puerto Rican ass back in the house, and don't let the boys back out here, they will mess with this little white girl," she looked back at me as if she were sizing me up for something. "Mommy, You want me to undo those handcuffs? They are the toy kind," she appraised them disapprovingly. She was still shaking off her morning grogginess but I was still shocked with her lack of what I would consider a normal reaction to my situation. "I would love it, Ma'am" I answered sincerely "But I will be in big trouble if my brother finds out I got down from here before I was supposed to," I was questioning whether or not I really deserved to be in trouble though. I was the one who was earning money for the house and maybe they were going a bit too far with the Master and slave relationship. Then again it was morning and I could feel my stomach growling and my bowels ached from a night of having a broom shoved up my ass and I was frustrated. My breasts ached and I could feel my milk starting to seep out on their own – they were so full that they felt like they were going to burst on their own. It was like being constantly teased and aroused and exhausted at the same time. My nipple piercings kept my nipples erect and stimulated with the feeling of a constant pinch but coupled with the throbbing, warm sensation of the milk ready to explode – it was like stimulation overload. I was also very aware that I could not move my hand to itch my nose and I wanted to very badly. "You sure I can't get you something, I mean I feel kinda bad that you are out here like this?" once again Doris's words were kind but her tone was insincere – as if she could only think of herself but she knew this is what she should say. "You could itch my nose, Ma'am" I smiled politely hoping she would grant me this one simple kindness. "Certainly sweet heart," she reached up and rubbed my nose "like this?" "The other side please," I smiled politely – the itch was gone when she rubbed it but now a few new ones had sprung up. I am sure it was psychosomatic – your brain realizes you can't itch and so it starts wanting to itch. "Anywhere else need scratching?" she couldn't help but sound a little lurid in how she asked that question but I thought she was being genuinely helpful. "Actually, I hate to ask this but my left ass cheek, Ma'am" I asked and Doris complied. "This tattoo is very nice, is this Big Mikey's work?" she got close enough to my ass to smell it while she reached behind me and gave me a very satisfying rub and scratch all up and down the small of my back and both ass cheeks. "Actually yes it is Ma'am" I brightened that his art work was so obvious. I hadn't seen my tattoo except in photos but my mom's was just like it. It had all these embellishments and fine shading around the words WHORE that must have been very distinctive and unique to his style of art. "He did this for me," she pulled her Mu-Mu frock down in the front so that I could see a tattoo just above her breast that said "A Plus Life". "What does that mean? I saw another girl with that tattoo, Ma'am" I asked. I couldn't believe I was holding a morning conversation with this woman while I was cuffed naked to the wall in front of her house and a broom shoved deep into my ass. "Oh yeah, Was it Goldie or Sierra?" she asked knowingly. "I think it was Goldie, she was blonde and with a man in a white Mercedes, Ma'am" I answered while she nodded knowingly. "Yep that is Cash Money, he was my pimp before Rahjid, but Rahjid don't care about the game. He just wants money so he won't pay for no tattoo to mark what is his, which suits me just fine," Doris started to perk up a little as she took another lick of her sucker. "Excuse me Meda, I am all out of coffee and I am a little," she yawned "tired in the morning." "I don't mind at all, Ma'am" I answered politely. I was glad for the company and at that time I felt she was just holding an innocent conversation with me. "Last night was really bad for me, I lost all my money," she shook her head in disgust. She lightly fingered the piercing in my belly button absent mindedly as she spoke. "Oh I am sorry to hear that, Ma'am" I said with genuine sympathy. I wasn't sure why she suddenly changed the subject but my heart went out to her. "I know how hard it is to work for that money," I added with a smile. My mom and I cope with some of our experiences by the fact we are both in this together and I thought that might not necessarily cheer her up that I knew where she was coming from – but maybe it was a form of consolation that she was not alone. "I hate to ask this Mommy, but can you do me a flavor?" she sucked the lollipop and looked up at me and batted her eyes. I wasn't sure why but I assumed that was the technique she used when talking to potential tricks. I observed that her eyes suddenly brightened whenever she was talking about her needs or herself and she became groggy when we went back on the topic of me. "Favor?" I thought that is what she was asking. "Yes, that is WHAT I said," she knotted her brow as if I were intentionally being stupid. "I don't think I am in much of a position to do any favors," I looked up at the wrist ties and down at the ones on my feet to show how helpless I was. "I can't help but notice that you have very full breasts," she reached out casually and squeezed my nipple hard between her finger and thumb like I was a tomato in the grocery store she was checking for ripeness. Then she brought her finger back to her mouth and tasted it. "You pregnant?" she looked at me appraisingly. "No Ma'am, but my mom and I have to pump ourselves on a regular schedule about 4 times a day because we are both lactating now and I am way past due to milk," I admitted. I wanted to ask her how she lost all her money but she had already changed the subject. "That is good, you see I am all out of Similac, you know baby formula and we don't have money to go to J-mart and buy more, so I was wondering if you would not mind?" she stopped talking and I wasn't sure what it was that she was asking me that I minded. "Oy Puta, you are so stupid," Doris made a sucking sound with her teeth in frustration. "Will you come down and feed my babies for me and stop showing your perfect little punani off to everybody?" her tone was impatient – like I should have known what she was asking me and I was just out here wasting HER time. "I am cuffed to the wall Ma'am until my brother or Master Rahjid comes and lets me down," I started to think it might not be a bad idea if they brought the babies outside. My tits were about to explode and the milk is what nature intended for babies – it was far better they drank it than did without. "Oopsie," Doris reached up to my wrist and turned the safety-locking mechanism that allowed the handcuffs to pop right off and then did my other wrist while I shook my head not too. "Oh these cheap things pop right off, you are too stupid for not trying to get out sooner," she chuckled without understanding I would be punished severely for this. "You don't understand Ma'am, I am supposed to remain like this and if I don't I will get punished, can you cuff me back?" I had been bound up so that my head was about waist high and I was spread eagle with my legs and arms in all different directions – there was no way I could bind myself up again without help. "Oh Mamacita, you are so fucking worried about every little thing. Come inside for a few minutes and give my babies a little drink and you can come back out here and my brother Hector will tie you back up out here before anyone is the wiser," she laughed as if that should have been obvious to me. I am so uncomfortable with deception and sneaking around that I wanted to demand she tie me back up right then. I thought about how Dad and Chris had said I should fight back if I was in trouble and try to escape. I wasn't really in danger though - in fact Doris was trying to lead me into the safety of her house. I secretly wished someone with authority over me was around so they could tell me what to do here. "Take the stick out of your ass, literally and come inside," she laughed and pointed to the broom handle that was still a good six inches up my ass. My instinct was to keep it up my ass. I know that sounds ridiculous but I am a rule follower by nature and I had agreed to all of this and a part of my nature was screaming at me to stick to what I was supposed to do. The logical side of me however was telling me to definitely get this long wooden tail out of my body and quickly. "You can't walk around in front of me and my sister's kids like that," she chuckled as if I should have known that is where the grey line of decency begins and ends in her house – with a broom shoved up one's ass. I smiled at her and reached behind myself with two hands and slowly pulled the broom that I had been impaled on out of my ass while we slowly walked up the steps to her cabana. She had a wooden porch on hers with an overhang to protect from the rain and that was filled with junk, old dirty toys and broken chairs and a mildewed table. "Just set it over there," she pointed to a spot on the porch and said "Unless you want to sweep up too" giggling innocently. I looked at the broom once I had pulled it out of my ass completely. I was inclined to lick it with my mouth as I had spent the last few weeks cleaning every toy or cock that had been put inside of me. However, I looked at Doris and then back at the broom handle and made myself set it gingerly up against the wall. I didn't see anything particularly gross on the handle except for a long trail of slime from the Crisco that was still gobbed all over my bare ass. I knew I was going to have to tell Dad and Chris about this and would probably be punished for what I was doing and it made my skin crawl with concern that I wasn't doing what I was supposed to do. I wished Doris could have left me well enough alone and these next few hours outside could have gone by uneventfully. I followed Doris into her small one bedroom cabana. There was an immediate wave of laughter from the people inside. I didn't expect to see so many people living in one room. "Don't let them bother you, Chica" she shrugged. "We've got more people living here than we do roaches," She laughed as I stepped over a cockroach that was crawling on a dirty diaper that was on the floor. Once the initial laughing subsided I was able to take in my new surroundings. The place was cluttered and dirty. There was the obvious smell of urine, poop and garlic from someone's cooking. There was a stack of dirty dishes in their kitchenette piled high. I saw the two black boys from earlier and an older black girl in a pink nighty. She walked right up to me and declared "You nasty!" after sticking her finger in my face and confronting me. I was told their names were Dante', Tiontay and Janet. She didn't seem to want a response from me once she said that to me and no one seemed surprised by her reaction. Doris's brother Hector was sitting at a cluttered folding table that had half-eaten plates of food, ashtrays and a couple cheap frosted glass candle holders with pictures of the Virgin Mary on them. Ronnie was sitting next to him – in the light of day she looked very wrinkled and toothless. She wasn't wearing her wig either and had just a shock of nappy afro on top of her head while she puffed on a cigarette casually. There were four other younger kids running around and playing tag in the house as if it was an open playground instead of a junk filled room stacked full of stuff that could easily come toppling down on anyone of them at any moment. They paid very little attention to the fact I was naked or if they did – they didn't seem to be very surprised by it. The bed was pushed off to the far side of the room so that you could only enter it from one side. It was clear that most of them must share this bed and it smelled heavily of urine. There was an old, grey haired, Mexican man staring at me silently from under the covers in the bed. A black and white TV was playing loudly that no one seemed to be watching while a wall unit air conditioner rumbled on even louder – as if the two were having a battle to see what could be more annoying. They both elevated the noise level and seemed to add to the swirl of chaos sweeping through the tiny room. I did not know what to do with my hands. I stood there awkwardly waiting to be told what to do next. "Have a seat," Doris told me casually but I didn't see any chairs that weren't covered in old magazines or dirty clothes. "I shouldn't be in here Ma'am, would you tie me back up outside please?" I begged. I know that sounded crazy but I actually preferred the quiet solitude and the illusion I was completely alone outside in the dirty alley behind the motel than I did standing amidst all this chaotic activity. "What is your hurry?" Ronnie took a long drag from her cigarette and then asked "What did you do to piss your pimps off so bad they left you outside like that?" with the husky voice of a lifetime smoker. The reason I was being punished had become a blur to me. "I didn't make enough money, I think Ma'am" at least that was the reason for the broom up my ass anyway. Ronnie just nodded knowingly as if that answer made sense to her. "You want some Cherry kool-aid?" Dante' asked me as he took a sip from a plastic tumbler. "Yes sir, that would be nice" my lips were parched and I felt an embarrassing rumbling in my stomach (and bowels). "Too bad, we aint got none, sucker." Dante' yelled and held the empty cup he had in his hands upside down to illustrate it had been empty. This caused everyone except for the quiet old man lying in the bed to laugh – This joke seemed to be one they told a lot to one another in one form or another. I just pouted instinctively and that only seemed to make their laughter grow a little more intense. "Hey, you know what I got you for Christmas this year, Tiontay?" Hector asked the younger boy. Tiontay shook his head no. "This dick in your mouth," Hector said with a laugh and once again the family laughed as if this was a funny joke. "You so nasty!" Janet declared of the older man in the chair without even looking up from whatever she was playing with on the floor. "We don't mean nothing about it," Hector explained to me. "It is a running joke when someone asks you a question to say 'this dick in your mouth'". "No, it is YOUR running joke, and it's running late again, Hermano" Doris chided him and then looked at me as if she was waiting for me to sit down. "Where should I sit, Ma'am?" I asked her. "You can sit on this DICK IN YOUR MOUTH!" Doris's face brightened and she laughed as if she had just 'got me' with her clever wit and I soon discovered that almost everyone there did that joke ad naseum for just about everything. I didn't understand at that point, I must have looked confused. Ronnie cleared away some old newspapers and an egg carton that still had one egg in it from a chair and asked me to sit down. The fact that I was completely naked didn't seem to bother anyone in the house – if anything it made the guys – including the old man in the bed stare at me. They didn't throw the eggs in the garbage. Instead, the floor was the garbage and they just set them down next to an empty coffee can and a broken Game Cube controller. "So you are going to feed my babies for me?" Doris quickly became serious again when she asked me – as if this was my obligation to her. I was actually looking forward to using my milk to do something that would be maternal and constructive instead of just being tormented with them and embarrassed while I leaked. "Yes Ma'am, where are the babies?" there was only a closet and a bathroom in the cabana besides the main room and I wondered where they could be keeping them. She yelled at the four younger kids and told the first two to each take a boob. They stopped playing and running around the room and descended on me like my sitting there naked was completely normal – to them it must be. "This is better than seeing your flapjack titties popped out," Hector laughed at Ronnie and she gave him a 'watch it, sucker' evil-eye stare. "They don't need to suck on my titty anyway," Ronnie took a long drag from her smoke and coughed "too much nicotine in these old boobs of mine". I looked at Doris for reassurance but it was too late. Two of the boys latched onto my chest and began to suckle me hard. One of them put their knee in my crotch for leverage. They seemed WAY too old to be nursing and I didn't understand at all. "In Puerto Rico this is very normal, I think you take them off breast milk when they are three in the US" Doris explained. "Mommies over there put a little hot sauce on their nipples to prepare kids for all the spicy food." She said with pride. I didn't fight what was happening but I was bitterly disturbed that one of the kids suckling me was biting and being rough with my breasts while they held my waist and kneed me in the crotch. Ronnie slapped him on the butt "Don't play rough now, those aren't my titties you are biting into, be nice to the white girl!" but he didn't stop nibbling and biting down at all and she didn't continue scolding him. I hate to admit that I was starting to not only get relieved that the pressure and swelling in my breasts was being relieved but this entire thing was intensely stimulating and I was getting wet from the mashing and gnawing on my tits. "Look at her face, Hermano!" Doris noted the glow in my cheeks and how I must have looked overly stimulated with a smirking satisfaction. "I am too busy looking at that pink punani dripping on the chair," he added "This is way more fun than watching you or Ronnie sit there and feed them." She smacked him playfully and said "Yah, but we are used to it and it's no big deal to us." "No, you don't sit there naked and have perfect tits!" Hector disagreed jokingly "You just pop open your shirt and let one of your knee shooters out". I have to admit I would have been flattered at the notion my breasts were 'perfect', if I was not being mauled by a kid that was no older than the youngest of the Waxerman boys as he tried to climb up my lap like an aggressive puppy. "Hey, I am not going to parade around naked just to amuse you. I get PAID to please, not to tease," Doris answered him in her thick New York accent. She had started to file her fingernails after finding her own seat at the table as if to pass the time. I started to squirm on the chair. The hard plastic I was sitting on was wet with my cunt juices – I am careful to refer to it as a cunt per the rules of my house. It isn't that I naturally expect anyone to be reading my journal but in the back of my mind I just try to be compliant with the spirit of the rules in order to be true to myself. I couldn't remember the last time I had sat in an actual chair – had it been at high school? I've spent so much time on my knees and on the ground that it felt strangely constricting to be in this chair. It probably didn't help that it was flimsy and cheap and the cold, stainless steel backing was pressing against my back and giving me goose bumps. "God damn, save some for the rest of us" one of the girls tapped the boy who was suckling aggressively on the back and he ignored her. "You watch your fucking language!" Doris smacked the girl lightly – completely oblivious to the irony of her own language. The two boys pressed up against my chest for what felt like an hour but was probably only about five minutes and when they finished I was still leaking milk down my chest. The final two kids replaced the boys who were suckling me and then they ran off around the room without so much as a thank you or a second glance. Janet made it a point to register that we were all nasty and that booby milk was nasty and that I better remember to clean up after myself when we were all done. She sounded strangely like Ronnie – except younger. I assumed they were directly related. Tiontay and Dante' the two older boys who had been playing with me when I woke up would glance over at me and snicker but did not come over to where I was sitting. I had a new emerging problem – not only did I desperately have to empty my bowels but I was completely wet and turned on from the suckling. I wanted desperately to masturbate or be touched and it made me feel so guilty that I was getting a charge out of what was happening to me. I knew Chris had been very specific that one of the reasons the broom had been shoved up my ass was for the express purpose that I not shit. If he came and I didn't have to go to the bathroom he would know that I went before he got there. Then again – I was going to tell him anyway. "Ma'am, when this is all over, may I please shit and piss in your bathroom?" I had grown so used to being very explicit that it sounded very natural to me the way I asked permission. However, she looked at me like I was crazy for saying it like that and Hector just laughed. "Is there somewhere else you would piss and shit, Chica?" Doris giggled in response. I knew it was rhetorical and didn't want to say that I almost never got to use the toilet at all. "Her and her nasty momma shit outside yesterday in the grass," Janet spoke up accusingly as if tattle-telling on me. Hector looked over at me with a vicious grin on his face and Doris just laughed. "It's true Ma'am," when I spoke I gasped and spasmed from the intense orgasm that was passing through me when one of the girls who was suckling me caressed my neck accidentally in order to get better leverage and suckle my chest. "That toilet broke again?" Ronnie asked me as if she already knew the answer was yes it was. It wasn't though and I couldn't just agree – it was not in my nature. "No Ma'am, my brother doesn't like me to have the privilege of using the toilet – he likes to keep me humble that way and it amuses him to watch us squat outside." I admitted truthfully. "I like how you think, and since he is not here you want to take a squat on our toilet seat and enjoy yourself?" that couldn't be further from the truth. If the toilet seat was as nasty as the rest of the house I was probably safer to squat in a dusty field some place – however I was also not trying to get one over on my brother. "No, I am going to tell my brother what I did today Ma'am. I would just ask to use the toilet because you might think it's disgusting to see me do it outside or in a bowl or something." I was murmuring because I felt a fresh wave of embarrassment trying to explain it to people who looked at me as if I were crazy. "You are worried what we might think and you are sitting there masturbating yourself in a chair in front of everyone?" Doris said with disbelief while scrunching her nose in disgust at me. I was shocked – I pulled my finger out of myself. I had been finger fucking myself without realizing it – for how long I could not be sure. The final two kids were still suckling my chest and I never learned their names but they were much less aggressive than the first two boys. "I am SO ... SO sorry about that, I really am Ma'am" I apologized as quickly as I could. I could feel the red blushing emerging on my face that I had been so naughty. "Hey don't stop on our account, Hermano never does," she teased me jokingly. The scrunched nose expression never left her face but her tone made it clear she thought it was no big deal. Her brother looked hurt and said "Hey, I always handle my business UNDER the covers though!" with a smile that told me none of them really seemed upset with what I had done – like it was just a goofy joke. "Yeah, but you get that jizz all over my leg when you are done," Ronnie croaked in response with a slight smile. They seemed to make a joke out of everything. I think it is a good coping mechanism and maybe that is how they deal with things or maybe they just have an R-rated sense of humor. "Then don't sleep next to me if you don't want it on your leg," Hector was a big guy – built like Mr. Dragovich but he had a baby face. "If I sleep next to Uncle Bobby all I hear is farting all god damned night, and the kids wriggle around too much for me to sleep down on their side," Ronnie took a long puff of her cigarette. I could see just below Ronnie's the outline of an 'A-Plus life' tattoo on her jet black, wrinkled skin through the folds of the skimpy tank top she was wearing. It did nothing to hide the fact that she really did have very flat breasts with huge, fat nipples. "You can sleep next to me, Sis" Doris offered sweetly to Ronnie – but with a trace of sarcasm. "Where do you think the god damned farting comes from? Not Uncle Bobby. YOU sleepin right next to his old ass." She slapped her knee and took a drag of her cigarette before flicking the ash into an empty mountain dew can on the table because all the ash trays were full. "If you think your brother would rather you pinch a loaf outside you can do that if you want," I wish Doris hadn't said that. I think Chris WOULD want me to do that instead of using a toilet – even a disgusting one like theirs. It would have been much easier if they had insisted I be polite and use their bathroom like everybody else- and by easier I mean far less humiliating to be reminded I am not like everybody else any longer. "Look my sister is not a polite person- Her idea of being polite is to say please before she tells you to shut the fuck up," Hector joked. "We are blunt people, we will tell you how it is. I don't really understand what is going on with y'all but it's kind of funny to watch," he lit up a small cigar that he had been cutting up and repacking with what I think was marijuana. "You horny motherfucker, you just like seeing her chucha winking at you," Doris chided her brother and slapped his shoulder. I wasn't sure what a 'chucha' was but given how she said it – I had a pretty good idea. "That too," he took a deep drag off the cigar and held it in – confirming to me that it must be weed. I have had almost no experience with it but I've seen guys behind the bleachers smoking it. We assumed they were there to watch the cheerleaders dance around – but in retrospect I think it may have just been a good place to smoke. "How come she aint' got hair on her chucha" one of the girls, who was still suckling me stopped long enough to ask. "You told me that when you grow older we can grow it!" the girl sounded like she was annoyed Doris may have lied to her. "Mirar Algo, she shaves herself, can you not see the stubble?" Doris answered as if she were immediately impatient with such a stupid question. I wondered if Mirar Algo was the girl's name but she said that to most of them – usually when pointing to a big mess they just made. The girl stopped suckling long enough to have a hard look at the stubble between my legs – which seemed to be followed by the feeling everyone else was looking. "Sorry Ma'am, I haven't been allowed to shave since yesterday afternoon," I murmured my apology to no one in particular. "I won't shave my cha cha for nobody!" Doris declared out loud as if she were just establishing a ground rule on what she will and won't do – despite no one asking her to do that. "Aint nobody got time for dat," Ronnie's throaty reply was dismissive. "I barely have time for my nails to be did." She held up her very expensive looking multi-colored fingernails. They had tiny stars painted on them in glitter. Doris compared her own perfectly coiffed nails and I realized how their priorities differ from even my own family. They had no money for food but they both had expensive nail jobs? The girls who were suckling me took their final couple of puffs on my sore nipples and finished up. They stopped leaning against my naked chest and went back to running around with the other two kids. "Can you pump a little more into a mason jar?" she held out a dirty mason jar without waiting for my response. I felt like I had been completely drained of milk but I was instantly reminded of the mason jar my mom made Dad and Chris masturbate themselves into. I felt obliged to agree considering what we had made the guys do when we were in charge of their lives. I took the mason jar and asked if she had a breast pump. "Sure we do, it is called your finger and thumb," she laughed at me for being so gullible. The others at the table were quick to laugh at the joke. "You don't mind me sitting here like this and filling the mason jar this way?" I held the mason jar under one of my boobs and held one of my sore nipples between my fingers and thumbs while pressing down and pinching hard. "Why should I care if the guys get boners looking at you? It's no skin off my ass!" Doris didn't even understand my question. She must have thought I was asking if they were jealous I was getting all the attention. She didn't even realize I meant did she mind that everyone could actually see me do this highly embarrassing thing right in front of them – and that sort of answered my question of whether or not she minded indirectly. I started to squeeze my nipples over the mason jar and a little bit of milk started to drip out into the jar. I have to admit that I know how to touch myself in a way that is far more pleasing than anyone else and I was probably smiling for that reason. "Look at her play with those titties, she sure looks happy," Ronnie observed. "I used to have perky tits like you, I was happy back then too" she admitted with a grin. "Oh no Ma'am, I am not getting myself off on this," I said – but I think even I didn't believe myself fully. "Right, you just smile when you play with your nipples because you always be smiling" Ronnie agreed sarcastically as if she did not believe me. I felt a sudden jab from a wooden pole in my ass cheeks from between the back of the folding chair I was sitting in and I flinched and turned around. "Tiontay! Stop messing with this white girl!!" Doris demanded. Tiontay and Dante' had crawled behind me and then poked me with a little wooden dowel as a practical joke of some kind -they were both grinning sheepishly. She didn't punish them or anything and they continued to sit directly behind me on the floor. "What you trying to do – smell her ass or something?" Doris demanded of the boys. "No Momma, we juss playing," Dante' answered innocently enough. "What they be doing is being Nasty!" Janet said while twirling around the living room with a baton like some sort of ballerina. She was wearing a flimsy pink nightshirt that was pretty much see through only because her skin was so dark. She noticed I was looking at her and gave me an evil eye just like Ronnie. I assumed they must be directly related. "It aint nasty, we juss be curious" Tiontay defended himself. "Oh my gawd, Meda look you can't be trying to look up her ass down there, why don't you get a porno or check online or something?" Doris's 'motherly' advice seemed practical but highly unusual. I couldn't imagine a mom from Cherry Lawn Estates telling her son to do anything like that – but then this was not Cherry Lawn Estates. "We aint got no fucking internet!" Dante' swore back. "That aint no reason to cuss, I am gonna kick you two in the ass! If you don't get out from under there" she yelled back at them – but it was clear she had no intention to do that and they knew her bark was far worse than her bite. "She don't have anything down there you have never seen on me!" "Hers looks a lot prettier than yours," Dante said with a big grin on his face. "What you looking at MY ass for anyway, huh?" she grinned and reached down to tickle him while pretending to be angry. "I wasn't but it's too big to miss," Dante' said while covering his sides with his arms and smiling as Doris attacked his sides with her tickling – knowing she would redouble her efforts to get him after that cute joke. "She don't want you two sticking things up her butt while she tries to pump," Doris said when she finally sat back in her chair and collected herself. "Nuh-uh, she like things up her butt. She put a whole broom up there," Tiontay replied defensively. He was right –there had been a broom up my ass and a fresh realization of how embarrassing it was to know they both were very well aware of how that looked washed over me. "You are embarrassing her!" Doris defended me while I continued to try to pump my breasts over the mason jar. "Her pimp can do her that way, but honey you aint no pimp" she told her son. "I am gonna be a pimp when I grow up!" Dante' announced with a self-assured cockiness. "Who you gonna pimp out? Not me, that's for sure! I am getting out of the game when I am 35". I thought Doris was much older than 35 and she probably was given the skeptical looks of the other adults at the table. "Janet gonna be one of my hoes," Dante' said with confidence adding "For sure!" "You too nasty to be MY pimp," Janet said unexpectedly. I would have expected she dreamed of growing up to be a ballerina or a princess given how she twirled around the house with her baton. "I aint sharing my money with nobody!" she declared. Ronnie gave her a reassuring nod of encouragement and then turned to me "Can you do both nipples at the same time honey?" she asked like a kindly, southern grandmother. "It's taking too long and I won't be able to get my beauty sleep with all the excitement over you being in here. We don't get naked white girls very often," she joked and hit her cigarette. "I can't hold the jar and milk both at the same time Ma'am," I said trying to figure out how I could oblige her request. "You guys aint got no babies to feed, so how do you do it home?" Ronnie asked me – seeming somewhat perturbed at the slow rate I was pumping the milk from one breast. "We have a big, electric goat milker at home, but we are about to lose the house. That is why we live here now. When we are here my mom and I get on the floor and she milks me and I milk her into a bowl – with both hands" I admitted honestly. I could see Hector's face brighten at my admission and him shift uncomfortably in his chair that he was getting turned on. "I could get on all fours and milk myself, but I think it would probably make the guys uncomfortable," I felt so foolish even suggesting that. I was trying to be considerate given Doris had just told her sons to stop looking at me and the affect I was having on the males. I was sure even the nearly catatonic old man in the bed was following me intently with his eyes. "Aint nobody mind - do what you have to do to get it done, sweet heart" Ronnie advised. I felt instantly aware that it had been my idea to get on all fours and that I wish I hadn't suggested the humiliating position and could take it back. It felt far worse than being told to do it – to be given permission to do something I suggested like that. I felt very perverted and instantly aware as I stood up and got down on all fours that I was going to be fully exposed while I rested myself on my elbows so I could reach back up and tug and twerk my boobs over the mason jar I set on the ground. "That doesn't seem to work too well like that," Hector laughed. "Normally my mom milks me, and then we take turns," I looked up and felt like the biggest dork on their floor this way. It seemed so awkward and disgusting and at the same time perverted to be on their floor like this – I kept expecting them to tell me to stop, that it was too over the top. "Like a cow?" Dante' asked excitedly. It was the tone of someone who suddenly had a breakthrough when they were guessing the right answer on a crossword puzzle or TV game show. "Yes Sir, just like that actually," I turned my head to look over at him and his brother and give him a nod of acknowledgement. He was absolutely right. "My mom is even called 'Cow tits' because hers are much bigger than mine and give more milk." I said with a smile. The fact that these people used humor all the time made it easy for me to joke about the circumstances of my own life. "Can I do it?" Dante' asked loudly. "No, let me do it!" his brother Tiontay asked and some of the other kids crowed in their desire to milk me like a cow, while the ones who were first to ask started saying they had asked first and that entitled them to do it. "Let you milk me?" I was shocked they were bold enough to ask that right in front of the adults. "Why not? You let everybody else get right up and kiss it?" Dante' said with a snarl of resentment for his younger siblings' good fortune. "That was to breast feed, and you used to breast feed all the time, poppy!" Doris reminded him. "You can each take a boob on either side," she instructed them. I looked up at her, surprised with the ease at which she made that decision and she asked me "Unless she minds?" I couldn't think of a pressing reason I should say I minded – given the circumstances. I nodded that I didn't mind and before I knew it the hands of the two little black boys were around my nipples tugging and pulling my increasingly sore nipples the same way I had been doing while I held myself up flat on the palms of my hands. A few minutes passed and the house actually seemed to go back to a relative state of normal – which was controlled chaos. The boys periodically had to fend off a younger kid asking if they could have a turn and them saying "Momma didn't say you could" and continuing to milk me into the bottle. It was steadily filling up with my milk and I was about to thank them for being so considerate to me - since they weren't hurting me. "Hey now," Doris set down her cup of coffee and scolded them. I looked up just in time to see that Tiontay was holding a crayon behind my ass. "No putting crayons in the white girl's ass crack," she almost laughed at how silly it sounded but held up a finger to punctuate her command. "But cows have tails!" Tiontay pleaded. "How you know? you aint never seen a cow!" Janet's ever watch-ful big sister eye had observed the same thing and she scolded Tiontay. "I watch Cow and Chicken on TV – she post' to have a tail!" the boy insisted. "Tiontay I did not RAISE you to be that nasty!" Doris demanded and Janet approvingly nodded. "You ASK before you try to put a tail up someone's ass like that". I could see even Janet was surprised by that response –but everyone else either smiled or in the boy's case they just nodded. "Please may I do you a tail?" Tiontay's eyes pleaded with me. "Well, I am almost finished I think. You are doing a good job with being a farmer," I told him reassuringly – unsure how to even reply to his question. It seemed like such an impossible situation that I could not fathom how to talk to him about it. "Cow say moo!" he insisted and then said "One moo for yes and two moo for no!" I had to smile at how easily he could suspend disbelief and pretend something. I assumed they were pretty poor and didn't have a lot of outlets for their creativity so they had to play make-up pretend games the way they had with me being a choo-choo outside. I knew when I was little that a game of pretend had certain rules and as long as all the kids believed them – that was the way it was supposed to work. If you point a finger at someone and say 'bang' they are supposed to fall over and you can argue all afternoon about it if they don't. "Moooooooo," I indulged him. I left the milky mason jar behind and started to crawl towards the door and scratch at it. They opened the door and looked outside. I had to evacuate myself if they were going to give me a tail – I couldn't hold it any longer. I saw there was no one standing around in the dirty back row behind the motel. It was obviously hotter than it had been earlier. "Mooooooo, need to go poooooooooo" I took a little liberty with the rules of pretend and they seemed to accept the premise that it was allowable under the game rules. I smiled and crawled off the patio to a small pile of dirt by the side of their house. It looked like they had been digging there and I wanted to find a suitable hole. If I hadn't spent weeks crawling – the rocky dirt would have torn up my knees but I was surprisingly ready for the rough terrain. I held my fingers over my nose as most of the kids from the house stood outside watching and said "Pewwwwwwwwww" and waved my hand trying to warn them it was going to stink –to suggest they not watch. They just laughed and continued to stand out there. I turned myself to face them so that my butt was facing the other way over a hole. I released a tiny fart in anticipation of what I was about to do and began a stream of yellow piss. This resulted in much more laughter and most of them changing sides so they could get a rear view. I realized it was futile to rotate because a few of them were still looking directly at my face and would now get a bird's eye view. It wasn't intentional on my part but in trying to force myself to shit I ripped a big stinky fart- the kind that would make Chris burst into laughter. It had the exact same effect on these kids – who found it to be infinitely hilarious. I smiled at them as politely as I could but inside I was feeling a whole new wave of humiliation. This was even different than the Waxerman boys – in part because there were so many more of them and they all seemed to be running around chaotically. I could feel my asshole part slightly and the first bit of a turd emerge. That was when the laughter REALLY began and the words "Doo-doo" and "Ewwwwwwwww" started to flow. Those words did not stop until I finished dropping two full turds in the dirty hole and a lot of my own urine. "That was my secret base!" Tiontay sounded completely devastated when he realized what hole in his dirt mound I had used and the others laughed at his misfortune much the same way they laughed at mine. "Moo," I said as if to say "Mistakes happen" and shrugged – that seemed to bring more laughter towards Tiontay than me as he pouted. I felt somewhat vindicated as I smiled and crawled back to the patio. I brushed up against the broom and said "Moooooooooo" and then added "Taillllllllllll". Dante' and Tiontay weren't the smartest kids – but they instantly got that I was suggesting they return my broom where it belonged. I reasoned that if I was going to be tailed – I might as well ask for what I had when I got here. "She aint even going to wipe her behind?" Janet observed with disgust "That nasty!". "You don't wipe yours either," Tiontay snapped back at Janet. "Shut up, boy!" Janet declared while making a 'shick-aw' sound with her teeth. "Why you be looking?" she asked him with a tone that suggested she knew she had just been caught. I didn't hear the answer – I felt the broom slam into my cunt. There was not an ounce of mercy as Dante' drove it in and I mooed in pain and shook my head no while he tried to lodge it into me that way. I thought he was going to drive it into my stomach by how hard he was putting it in. I guided it back out and up to my asshole for him and mooed softly. "She want it in her booty!" Tiontay was very happy and I nodded that I did. I was used to it being lodged about six inches up my ass from the night before but I was tight again. I needed to work it in slowly without Crisco and I wasn't sure how to ask as a Cow. "Aren't you supposed to be a dog, not a cow?" I heard a familiar voice walking from behind the front row of cabanas and everyone froze in place. ------- Chapter 40: Wendy's Journal: I chose the road less traveled, now I don't know where I am Note to reader: This is an excerpt of Wendy's journal from Thursday approximately 2 am from her perspective. The events take place as Wendy's long night of whoring comes to a close. In order to increase readability, some of the dialogue exchanged was altered to appear in a 'narrative' story format. CASH EARNINGS WEDNESDAY WENDY: $385 JAMIE: $595 You know your life is spiraling out of control when you would prefer to be tied up naked outside with a broom handle up your ass – as opposed to whatever fate is awaiting you. Reba Macintyre once sang "To succeed in life you need three things, a wishbone, a backbone and a funny bone". I know I shouldn't take life advice from country music – but right now I wish I had all three. I was finding it very hard to laugh about this situation and I couldn't wish it away and I didn't have the backbone to even demand we stop and re-think this – I was going to do it no matter what and most especially if my daughter was. I should start this journal at the point I reported in to my husband and son to end the night. I had no money and was not looking forward to what they would say and do to me when I had to tell them. It was just lucky I had to turn in money incrementally as I earned it so that the entire night wasn't a waste. If I had counted correctly I had earned about $385 and had another 50 dollars before I encountered Deacon Dan and him and his 'congregation' raped me and took it – so it doesn't count towards my earnings. It was fifteen minutes until the cut off time. I still had my phone so I knew it would be 2 AM soon and I had to decide if I would try to turn one last trick and risk being late or just go accept my fate. Needless to say – I chose the latter. I was sore, dirty, bruised and that was BEFORE I met up with Deacon Dan tonight. Bill and Chris could tell something was wrong when I came to the door of the cabana and asked permission to enter. "Just like a lazy slut to try to knock off work early," Bill said regally from the bed through the screen door to me. "Yes, get your lazy ass in here and get naked on the floor. You can wait for your pig of a daughter to finish fucking and sucking," the way Bill said it there was not a trace of respect for the fact we were doing this for rent money. Bill sounded completely disgusted with us both – like we were just doing this to satisfy a sexual urging and that he was just humoring us. Officer Mark the cop with the Boston accent was there as well – he had been talking to the guys and I was sure he was waiting to get his cut of our nightly earnings and not just pass the time. "Yes Master, thank you for allowing me to come home early," the thought that this stinky little cabana was going to be our new home brought a fresh wave of revulsion over me as I stripped and neatly piled my ragged clothes in a pile by the door to assume a kneeling position. "You look like shit," My son wasted no time critiquing me. He was right – my hair had dried cum in it and my make-up had ran from the tears and sweat on my face – and that was BEFORE I met up with Deacon Dan tonight. "Yes Sir, I know," I agreed with my son and after an awkward silence and him circling me to check me out he poked my ass with a broom handle and giggled. "We are going to have fun with you tonight – you didn't turn any money in, in over an hour? No one must have wanted your fat ass. We'll have to give you a few exercises to keep the fat off." He sounded completely sadistic and gleeful at the idea of punishing me. "Yes Sir, I appreciate you trying to improve me," I said with complete acceptance that I was going to be punished at the very least and probably end up with a weight or two attached to my body. "Something is wrong," Bill noticed from my tone that I was not the same as usual. I had stopped crying and collected myself but I am sure he could detect the defeat in my body language. "Your mom normally has a little fire smoldering in her eyes despite her submission – a resistance and it's not there." I was flattered Bill thought that about me and was able to pick up on my subtext so well without me saying anything. "What happened?" is all he needed to say to bring fresh tears to my eyes thinking about tonight. "Someone who used to know us from our old Church," I started to explain but before I could Chris had guessed it was Deacon Dan. I asked him how he knew and for my troubles I was answered with a switch to my ass – they must have brought one of the whips from home. "Who asks the questions here?" Chris demanded. "You do, Sir" I answered meekly. If Officer Mark felt even the slightest bit of sympathy for my situation he wasn't showing it – he just stood over me quietly with the guys. "That is because?" Chris wanted me to finish his sentence. "Taylor men rule and Taylor girls drool, sir" I repeated one of the earliest house slogans they had taught us and that seemed to satisfy them. He switched my ass with his whip and made me continue my story. I will spare my journal the blow by blow because the entire traumatizing experience is etched in my mind and I am sure I can never erase it from my thoughts. I explained how Deacon Dan had lulled me into a false sense of security when he recognized me. I had given up on any sense of saving my reputation in Cherry Lawn Estates and assumed if he didn't know I was a whore before – it was a bit too late to try to make up some reasonable explanation for my walking Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd at night wearing a shirt that said I loved Black Cock. He told me that the Lord loved me and I was instantly thinking about hooking him up with Mrs. Waxerman. The bitter old shrew could use a little like minded company. I could tell he had not shaved in a while or bathed but I assumed nothing out of the ordinary at the time – life had been hard for me and it might have been for him as well. I was going to assume he wasn't the type who was interested in a prostitute and that he had picked me up because he recognized me from when the kids went to his youth group in church. I thought he might give me a sermon about the forgiveness of the lord and I was prepared to answer that I am not sure Jesus was going to forgive all the nasty choices I've made. I am sure he will the ones I've made serving my husband – and maybe Jesus will forgive the ones when the shoe was on the other foot and I enslaved him and Chris and became carried away with my authority because of what we did to make up for it. However, I was not so sure Jesus would be inclined to forgive a mother who spent the house money on a boob job and other vanities and focused on her career and pilates while letting her family stagnate and go off in different directions and dysfunctions. The deacon sounded so much like Mrs. Waxerman in his talk about fire and brimstone and the cost of salvation that it was very easy for me to start doing white alert like we did when we wanted to shock her. I told him how I enjoyed being a whore and actually did love black cock with a big smile on my face. I was actually having fun trying to see if I could get a rise out of him and when he told me he had ran into Jamie it sounded like she had done the same thing because he told me how much I sounded like her. I thought to myself 'That little bitch, she is gunning to get me some weights attached to my pussy by being so over the top," when he described what a total slut she had been. There was something sinister about how he had said that but I was too busy playing the loose whore to really notice. He quoted Proverbs 20:30 to me. I can't remember the exact quote but it went something like "Blows and wounds scrub away evil and beatings purge the inmost being.". I continued the white alert game we played by explaining how I asked my son and husband to give me beatings nightly because I was such an evil and naughty slut - I was laughing but he wasn't. He pulled into a dark construction site or something and told me it was his church. I said without even hesitation "It's ten dollars for a hand job, twenty for a BJ, Fifty for half and half and one hundred and we can do anything." I was supremely confident he had taken me to this private place to make his move and pay for sex with me. I did not think there was anything wrong with that – even men of God need a little female comfort and I was in no position to judge him anyway. "Haughty eyes and a proud heart—the unplowed field of the wicked—produce sin," he snarled another line from Proverbs at me. I answered back by teasing the lion – I told him how wicked I was and how my husband had tried to tame me. It was all part of the little game we played with white alert and I was going to be proud to tell Chris and Bill how I had turned this perverted Christian on by playing the unrepentant vixen. I was already planning to beg him to spank me when he fucked me. "The plans of the diligent lead to profit, as surely as haste leads to poverty." He quoted proverbs again and took me by the hand to a storage room. He pointed to where he apparently lived and added "Better to live on a corner of the roof than share a house with a quarrelsome wife." I wasn't sure what to make of his bible verses. I am not particularly religious and I had grown used to Mrs. Waxerman's righteous condemnation – however a part of me knew how taboo it was to mix religion with sexuality. I told him that he could fuck me slowly for one hundred and that would be profit enough for me - I would just have to ask Jesus to forgive me if my flirtations offended him. "I have to tell you something before we go in, Sir" I told the Deacon with a sexy voice – still unaware of what was to happen when I entered the room. "I have a butt plug up my ass at all times and I am not allowed to touch it myself. If you can give me one hundred you can take it out and fuck me up my ass, would you like that Sir?" I felt like I was not only giving an affirmation but a confession of sorts - as the three men listened to my story they said nothing. Chris slapped me on the ass and said what a good girl I was but wanted me to fast forward to the point of my story. "You could tell a fucking story about one hour of your life that would fill twenty god-damned pages," Bill agreed with his son – he was right. If they ever read the extensive journal I am keeping it would probably bore them to tears but I felt I should document this journey because I know none of them would think to do that. "You are right of course Master, I was getting there" I explained how he continued to quote proverbs "A fortune made by a lying tongue is a fleeting vapor and a deadly snare." He added and grabbed me hard by my hair to pull me into the storage unit. If I had not grown so used to my husband and son pulling me around roughly I might have screamed but instead I smiled and allowed him to pull me in the door. "Behold the lady of Proverbs," I was unprepared when he announced himself as he entered the lit room for the sight of a dozen or so bums waiting for their church leader. I had fucked seventeen workmen with my daughter earlier today though and it occurred to me that I had just hit the jackpot again. "I can fuck all of you Sir, but if you want a group discount you'd have to talk to my husband, I have his number on my cell phone," I was actually getting wet in anticipation that I would be soon fucking and sucking every man there most likely. My son smacked my ass with his whip so that he might make me cry out but I didn't. "Why didn't you have them call ME and not just Dad?" "They had no intention of paying Sir," I explained how the deacon continued to quote proverbs while they roughed me up. "He put his hands around my neck and closed off my mouth and nose with his thumbs but was careful not to break my windpipe." I knew I was in real danger at this point and I wondered if Officer Mark would consider this a crime or just part of the life of a hooker - I felt most likely the latter. "The violence of the wicked will drag them away, for they refuse to do what is right." And he tore my shirt off and ripped my dress down. "The way of the guilty is devious, but the conduct of the innocent is upright." It was then that they dragged me over to a dirty mattress next to a coffee can and I saw Doris from the motel was laying on the bed with a black eye and it started to hit me that I was going to be raped. "You can't rape the willing," Bill didn't have a trace of sympathy in his tone but I've been married to him long enough to know that he also puts on a brave tough face when he is secretly afraid. I was thankfully stopped from recounting the details of my ordeal and how I escaped with Doris when my daughter walked in to be evaluated for the night. I would have to explain how they had my passport now and I had been lucky to get out with life and a few of my clothes – I broke a heel when we ran most of the way back. "Hello Sirs, am I late?" she asked politely – I knew I would probably have to tell the rest of my sordid story about the wages of sin and the choke fucking I received. I was more ashamed and embarrassed that I would need to do so around Jamie in part because I knew she had been running the same risk as me that it could happen to her. She seemed to pop out of the door with a chipper expression on her face. She was so refreshed and at ease with her submissive role that it had all rolled off her back and I hated that I would have to put a frown on her smiling face about the gritty dangers of what we were doing. "Get naked slut, and assume the position," Chris demanded and his sister took first position right by me with the crisp cadence of a senior military cadet once she was naked. "Good girls," Officer Mark remarked in his thick Boston accent. "I may forget a face, but I never forget an asshole" he commented on my daughter's naked ass as she stripped without hesitation. "Your mom was just telling us the story of how she had to escape in the night with no clothes and no money and why we shouldn't attach a dozen weights to her ass for lying to us," Bill sounded completely unimpressed with my story as if it was nothing out of the ordinary – I had to hope it was a brave show in front of Officer Mark. I remained in position with my hands behind my back and said nothing to my daughter. She locked eyes with me and in instant I felt as if she knew what had happened to me tonight without any words. "So now are you too scared to walk the streets?" Bill asked me. There was a hint in his voice that I could say yes and that would give him permission to show sympathy and concern for me. I knew that if I said I was that he wouldn't stick with his strong, silent tough act and show me tough love and discipline without mercy. "No sir, the bruises and cuts will heal," I was surprised to hear myself say that almost instinctively. "I am committed to finishing what I agreed too. I just ask that Jamie have..." I wanted to spare Jamie the chance of living through what happened to Doris and I. I couldn't ask her to do this anymore now that the reality of the risks had become so obvious to me. Bill had found a flyswatter and shut me up by smacking me right on the nipple with it – that thing hurt! "Who?" he asked and it took me a moment to realize I had said Jamie instead of Ass Face. I didn't even realize it was a rule I could never use her real name. It turns out most girls who work the streets pick a 'street name' so they can go back to their 'real' self when they are not on the street – it helps to have a fantasy persona. "Ass face," I corrected myself and added "To not have to do this anymore. I think Deacon Dan intends to find her and do worse to her if he does. He told me so. He seems to think women are the reason his life is in such an upside down state." I hadn't gotten to the part of my story where once they started raping us Deacon Dan told me his twisted fantasies about tying up Jamie and beating her. "Proverbs 21:10 When a whore is punished, the simple gain wisdom; by paying attention to the wise they get knowledge." He had given a sermon while his followers had mercilessly fucked Doris and me. She had whined and begged but I was aware that it would do no good. He described what a cock tease my daughter had been and how she had failed to accept his wisdom and would pay for it dearly. "Aren't women the reason any one has to pay alimony and have their cock tied in a knot witt blue bah-lls?" Officer Mark was chewing gum while he asked no one in particular. "Ass face, you ran into Deacon Dan tonight right?" Chris asked while slapping his sister's pink ass cheeks- she didn't even flinch but I did when I heard his name spoken out loud. "Yes sir," there was something in my daughter's sweet, effervescent tone that told me more than I wanted about the ordeal she might have faced. I could have been over thinking it but my skin crawled with the thought of it. Chris told her to elaborate and I wished he hadn't. I did not want to know if she had been through what I had and at the same time I did. I think that feeling may be a metaphor for why I find myself continuing to follow my son and husband's orders but that is a completely different set of self-realizations. Jamie told them about how he recognized her from children's church. That in and of itself made me think of him as a harsh and cold predator who may have been thinking of the tortures and deprivations he wanted to visit on her even back then. He had been different then – clean shaved, clean cut and with a positive outlook but who knows what evil had lurked in his heart. He apparently had been accused of molestation and lost his wife and kids- no shocker there. He probably had done something nasty to someone, it was very easy for me to believe that. Then again maybe he had not and the false accusations had made him crazy – once again I was able to see both sides to the coin. I still wasn't willing to give the bastard the benefit of the doubt. Her story wasn't as grueling as mine and she left out the bible verses but she told of the same place Doris and I had been taken and how she sucked them off and escaped without getting paid. "So you think it's too dangerous for you out on the streets, Ass face?" Bill asked with the same tone he had asked me. There was a safety valve here that he was going to allow her to pull if she was too scared and I prayed to the Jesus of forgiveness that she would say she was. "She didn't even mention the pimp that tried to recruit her tonight," Chris teased his sister and jabbed a finger into her ass cheek making light of the situation. I felt Bill was giving Jamie a chance to back down without making her and that Chris was completely oblivious to that – but maybe I read too much into that as well. "It's weird out there, there are a lot of strange requests but most of the guys just want to get off and not be hassled. I don't mind doing it if mom is going to do it with me," Jamie could have been saying she didn't mind drying the dishes after dinner if I washed them with her- no trace of fear or concern in her voice. She was either an amazing actress who could hide that fear or she was completely oblivious to how crazy and twisted people can be. "So if next Sunday you have a huge string of weights on your twat and tits and your mom is free of this, are you going to want to pussy out and stop?" Chris asked skeptically. "That isn't going to happen Sir. I am a good slut and I will be weight free before mom is," her face was an impish challenge that the race was on. I was relieved that she was still unjaded by the streets but at the same time found it hard to smile back to accept her playful challenge. Such a brave girl – I really must tell her how much she is MY hero with how she accepts this new life and doesn't complain or back down. At the same time I do wish she would because then it would be easier for me to show how afraid I am some times. I feel like I need to put on my brave face and my big girl panties (if I still got to wear panties) and face this if she can do it. "Oh wipe your mouth," Chris jabbed another finger in his sister's ass to tease her "There is a little bullshit on the side of your mouth," he made light of how much courage his sister showed I think in part as a defensive mechanism so he didn't have to say he admired her the same way I did. The silly goose actually wiped her mouth as she had been instructed even though it was clear it was a joke and then dutifully returned to holding her ass cheeks as wide apart as she could for the amusement of her father and the cop and Chris. The men negotiated a price for 'protection' from Officer Mark – I kept my mouth shut. I knew Bill was tragically underequipped to negotiate and that just wasn't his forte'. If someone gave him a price he could accept then he would and that was all there to it. The options sounded steep but I resolved to try to fuck harder and more often to make up the difference if it meant that they would protect us from Deacon Dan and I trusted Bill to make the right choice here. I had not thought a lot about how our relationship would be after I am no longer submitted to his discipline but I knew I would always back him as head of the household as it related to money in the future. "Sir, I know the men of the house rule, but can we have a say?" Jamie sounded nervous. I was surprised that she would pipe up because it was usually me who felt the need to nose into the business dealings. "You know I would not mind sucking the dicks of the officers for free if you wanted me too," her youthful teenage excitement made it sound like that was as normal as going to cheerleading camp for the summer. "However, I would rather you just say I don't have to serve Deacon Dan or Cash Money even if they have money and we can fight back if we need too. We worked hard for this money and it won't be much if we pay 1,000 a night in protection money, Can we just pay the two hundred Sir?" Jamie was being very level headed and reasonable and I had to agree with her. The dumb shit makes a lot of sense sometimes, " Chris teased his sister. "I agree. If your officers see them on the street they can just ask for a BJ and they'll suck them off with a condom for free but we'll take the basic protection plan for now." And with that Chris shook his hand and made the deal. I wondered what that meant for my plans to partner with my husband in all matters of finance of the house? I decided we may have to decide as a family in the future and that might be for the best if all four of us had a say. "You may regret dat, but to each their own, have a good night ladies," he tipped his hat and sauntered off to his patrol car. "Good thinking skeet-bucket," Chris's compliment to his sister wouldn't be complete without a hard twist to her nipples – but she smiled with self-satisfaction and took the approving tone of her brother as admiration by thanking him. "Too bad you have to spend the night with a broom up your ass tied up outside," Chris said and I assumed at the time I would go with her and had already resigned myself to that fate. I had lost my passport even though it was not my fault and I was positive they would find new and much larger things to shove up my ass to replace it. I would have to face that punishment. "Yeah, you remember earlier today when you were sentenced to spend the night out there with your little white ass hanging out?" he reminded his sister and I remember when he told us that around the time we got back from J-mart. "Good, well Dad wants to take Mom home and fuck her brains out and then put her outside with your lover Roscoe tonight – so you are going to have to play hangman out there by yourself." He laughed. I was shocked – Bill had said nothing about this and it threw me for a loop. I didn't want Jamie to spend all night alone outside here! I remembered the horrible little boys who had woke me up and that had been torment but I wondered if Deacon Dan might be lurking around the motel area and that would be much more dangerous. Jamie's baby blue eyes looked over me and I couldn't tell if she was happy for me not to share her punishment or felt sorry she would be out there alone. "You sure you don't want to change your mind about working the streets now?" Chris laughed at his sister's look of confused fear. She was about to explain something and he snapped "too late". He cuffed her with some handcuffs and handed her a big tub of off-brand Crisco shortening that was labeled "Chrisco" shortening ironically enough. I remember when Chris saw it on the shelf and said "They don't sell name brands here, they sell lame brands". At the time he put it in our shopping cart I assumed he wanted it because it had his name on the label that looked almost identical to the blue Crisco shortening we had at home. It dawned on me that it could be used for lubrication and I was at least thankful he would use it on his sister before he rammed a broom up her ass. He didn't even waste time putting clothes on her for the walk around the motel and I knew instantly he was going to tie her out there like I had been the night before. "Well it is just you and me shit-stain," Bill puffed out his chest once he and I were alone. "Yes Master," I acknowledged him and accepted his new profane term of endearment for me. "You sure that you want us to keep disciplining you both?" he finally said what I thought he had been hinting at all night and I was very relieved. He did not let me answer before adding "I know you are a tough bitch and I know that you need discipline in order to make yourself get out on the street and suck cocks but there are other ways. If you say that you can't do this I will find a way to make Chris believe it was all my idea to stop and we'll get the money another way," he said with a look of concern. "May I have a broom up my ass for the ride home since I lost my passport through my carelessness Master?" I could not believe I had just answered his question that way – but from the look of approval on his face it was the right answer and a vote of confidence of him as leader of the house. "I am not going to ask you again, I know you are a brave woman and a good mom and a great sport for going this far." He scanned my body up and down and added "You are as foxy as shit and you turn me on when you are on your knees," I pushed my chest out further with pride and said "Sir, you are going to give me a big ego and then I'll need more discipline to be humbled - that isn't very nice" I teased back in response. There was something liberating about him having concern for me and wanting to stop that made me want to show him that false bravado and hang in there. I think if he had taken the opposite position and demanded we continue to do this I might just have broke down and begged him to let us out of our obligation tonight – it is funny how the way a single sentence is phrased can send your life in another direction entirely. "Show me how he choke fucked you," Bill smiled down at me. I stood up and led him over to the wall and then slammed my back into it while raising his hands to my throat. I showed him how he had completely overpowered me "He jumped me like this Sir" and how I struggled but he had leaned into me with his body weight. Then I put his hands around my throat and let him use his thumb to cut off the air to my nose and hold my mouth shut while he applied pressure to my neck and cut off my air – but didn't crush the windpipe. It was only a few seconds before I found myself struggling and gasping but unlike the ordeal I had been through I was not afraid for my life and the danger felt more like an exciting roller coaster that I knew was going to deliver me safely at the end of the ride. I gasped "He had his cock out like this" as I struggled to get my hands free enough to undo Bill's belt and pull his dick out. I forgot about Jamie's predicament completely while Bill fucked me hard in the cabana. He choke fucked me and at the risk of sounding like a masochist I begged him to fuck me harder and take me. I let him get animalistic and drive his dick into me while he finger fucked my asshole and when he stuck his fingers into my mouth I greedily sucked them like they were the sweetest Lady Godiva chocolate. Bill fucked me against the wall and on the bed and then we rolled off the bed and he fucked me on the floor like an animal. "You two should get a room," I heard Chris say after Bill had cum inside of me and rolled off to rest still clutching his rapidly beating heart. "This IS a room," Bill smiled at his son's joke still breathing heavily after the workout. Bill was completely nude – he had stripped while we had rough sex all throughout the cabana. "Yeah this is mom and ass face's fuck room, but are we gonna sleep in this cockroach infested hell?" "Not tonight!" Bill smiled as he started to recover and reach for his blue jeans. "First you are going to fuck this slut like you said earlier tonight and we still have the house until the weekend at least." "I dunno," Chris looked at me laying flat on my back – probably looking rather completely fucked from the rough sex my husband had just had with me. "She looks pretty worn out," he was right – I was completely used up tonight. "You are right Master, I am a well drilled cum-bucket Sir" I was gasping for air. I was in good shape – but Bill seemed to have a fondness for choke fucking me until I turned blue and I was still recovering. I waved him over "But please, make a deposit if you would like too" I tried to sound sexy but the heavy breathing made it sound desperate. "Uh if you want this dick, then you better get over HERE and beg for it," he sat on the bed and smirked. "Yes Master, I want your cock," My son had given me a second wind I did not think I had in me. I pulled myself up to crawl over to where he sat and lustily started to reach for his dick. He slapped my hand hard "I said beg for it, I know we trained you better than that, slut!" I tried to hide my smile at his sarcastic demand – he had delivered his chastisement of me in a funny way and I was surprised I felt no shame about what I was about to do. "Please Master, won't you let me have a taste of your dick? Will you shove it down my throat before you go to bed in your nice warm covers? Pretty please?" He rubbed his dick and said "You are getting warm but I am just not feeling it," with little sympathy for my mewling begging. "Pretty, pretty please I am begging you my son and owner, will you lodge your cock so completely far up my ass tonight and cum inside of me? I don't have to use a condom with you and I crave licking your cum after its been up my asshole," I saw him shift when I said that but he didn't budge. I decided to try another approach. I sat up on my legs so that I was still kneeling and put my hands in front of me like a puppy and panted like a doggy and looked at him with big wide eyes. "Now the bitch is getting it," he chuckled and moved my hands to his jeans. We had done a lot of things together in the last few weeks but this was a threshold that we had not crossed. I didn't think about what it meant in the future – I just reached for his cock and began to drive my entire throat down the length of his shaft. "Where you going?" Chris asked of his Dad who was walking out the door. "A little fresh air, son" Bill said with a smile on his face. "Oh no, I watched you fuck mom, you are going to sit here and watch me stick this dick to her," he chuckled and I continued to love and worship his dick for him while he held my hair in his hands like the reigns of a saddled horse. "I was going to check on your sister, actually" Bill said – there had been a hint of discomfort in his voice. I may have read something into the tone of his voice but I was glad to think that Bill might realize that what Chris and I were about to do was about the most taboo thing a mother and son could ever do together and it was too much for him to watch. "I spoke with Officer Mark. Doris is fine and they are going to go down and pay old Deacon Dan a visit. They know exactly where his little trap house of crack heads hangs out and he assured me that he was not going to arrest them." "Shouldn't he arrest them though?" Bill sounded relieved and confused. I was too – especially for Doris's sake. "No, he wasn't going to ARREST them," Chris took a nearby broom handle and slapped it in his hand "They are just going to pay them a little visit and share a few bible stories with them." Chris grinned at his father. "Oh the kind of Bible stories where Deacon Dan gets his ass kicked by a bunch of angry cops?" Bill laughed and I found myself chuckling with my son's dick still lodged in my throat. "The very same in Jesus Name, Amen," Chris laughed and then whapped me with the blunt end of the broom handle across the back "What are you laughing about slut? You and Ass Face cost us four hundred bucks to buy that little beat down" he sounded serious. "Srthrowwy Sah," I was gagging on his cock as I apologized. "You will have a chance to prove how sorry you are when you fuck all the cops who paid him a visit after they get off duty," he laughed. "Wifff Preassthuure Sah" I moaned while my son forced the full length of his cock down my throat. I had learned to deep throat very well but I felt a pressure to gag that I was lucky enough to hold back while I told him how happy I was to accommodate the police who had given Deacon Dan his comeuppance. "Hah you think you are going to get off so easily by making me cum with your mouth?" he didn't wait for an answer before pulling me up by my hair off his dick and on to the bed. "Reverse cowgirl now and play with your tits". He showed me how to get on the bed and face away from him while thrusting up and down on his cock in that position. I played with my breasts and I could feel a little milk seep out – it was time for our milking again. My mind went back to Jamie. I think it is a universal motherly instinct to remind your kids to wear a jacket or clean underwear and I had to stifle the urge to ask if he had remembered to milk his sister before he tied her up all night. I was uniquely aware of how excruciating and sublime the torment can be of having weighted breasts heavy with milk and no way to release. "Talk dirty to me," he ordered as he lay down on his back and let me ride his dick for him. I wish he hadn't – I could not think of anything to say at all. "What would you like me to say, Master?" I asked while settling into a nice regular pace with him. He slapped my ass cheek hard in disgust. "You've been whoring now for how long and you don't talk dirty to your clients? You lazy fucking whore. They don't pay you to lay on your back and fart like a rag doll. You better be giving them their money's worth?" "I try master," I was kneading my breasts while trying to resist the urge to pump them and release some of the milk. "This is you trying? You showed more effort when you were fucking those Mexicans today," he was right – I had grown tired and was fucking my son for my pleasure not his – I needed a slow pace after the rough fucking I had at my husband's hands. "Can I show you how to choke fuck me, Sir?" I asked and felt a tingle run down my spine at how nasty and raw that sounded. "Does it involve me getting off my back?" he asked. "Yes Master, the way your father did me a few minutes ago," I answered as sweetly as I could. "Too much trouble," he smacked my ass and then made me stop riding his dick. I felt him remove my dog collar. "Don't get any ideas, it is going right back on." I felt strangely naked without the heavy weighted collar I had grown used too. I remained sitting on the full length of his cock as he sat up and tied a pair of nylon pantyhose around my neck. "These belonged to the last slut who had this room I think," he tied it tight enough that it cut off my air supply again. Then he had me hold my arm up "Keep it straight up over your head, you cheat and bend your arm and you will wish you had not." then he pulled down on the hose which caused me to ride up on his dick. He directed the pace at which I would fuck his cock by choking me with the pantyhose. I almost couldn't take it – I got massively wet and gushed all over his dick. "That's it bitch, cum on my dick!" he slapped my ass and then began to finger fuck my asshole with his thumb while he pressured me to rapidly ride his cock and face away from him. "Yes Master, please fuck my ass with your thumb," I tried to talk dirty like I had been told to but found myself gurgling and gasping for air. "I love your cock," I had not seen enough pornography to have a repertoire of dirty phrases but my son had grown up with the internet and what I was saying didn't do it for him. "More, Faster, Harder, Better." he demanded and punctuated each word with a slap to the ass and another ride up and down on his hard dick. "Choke me, choke your momma" he liked that. "Yes son, please fuck my asshole, it is all yours," he liked that more. "You own it," I said. "Whose booty is it?" he snarled. "It is your booty Master," I knew it belonged to his father and Rahjid for as long as they said it did as well but I wanted him to cum and he was responding to it. "Your son's booty?" he asked. "Yes my son's booty, this ass belongs to you Sir" "Call me Chris you fucking slut, Call me your son" he became angry and intense as he drove me up and down with the nylon – I knew I couldn't keep holding it up over my head straight but I tightened my muscles and endured. "These titties, this asshole, this cunt it all belongs to you Chris, you own your mommy," that's when I felt the first spurt of his dick in me – his cum was shooting out hard and fast and thick. "You came for mommy?" I asked him sweetly and slowed down. "I didn't say slow down, and you can say mom. The mommy creeps me out!" He corrected while I rode his half-erection until I felt his dick drain completely and soften. I answered yes sir and felt my own breasts leaking just a little while I finished him off. I sighed – I was sexually exhausted. "Thank you for that Chris," I smiled while wiggling my ass and tightening my pussy muscles around his soft dick to signal him the wild ride had ended – please exit the attraction like at the county fair when they want you off the wonder wheel. He smacked my ass hard "It was Chris while you had the collar off," he removed the panty hose that had been constricting my neck and laughed "That is going to leave a red mark". I was sure the friction from it would leave a nasty all over hickey – then he snapped the collar's lock back in place behind me after slipping it around my neck. "Naturally Sir, as it should be. First names breed familiarity with my betters," I had been taught that early in my training – I think they had heard me say it when I made them call me Ma'am – it had been so long that I forgot a lot of the details. "You act like you are finished," Chris said with a tone that registered his dissatisfaction with how relaxed I probably sounded. "Are you ready to go again, Master?" I smiled and looked over my shoulder at him while bumping up and down on his flaccid dick. I was wet and slippery and could barely feel him inside of me anymore. "No, but you are going to get on the floor and drip out dad's and my cum, then you are going to snort it up your nose," he insisted and pushed me off him. I got into position on the floor to squat over a small mirror that we had used for this purpose before and asked "snort?" "I am positive nothing is wrong with your ears or do you have cum packed up there too?" he didn't wait for me to answer before explaining "I want to take pictures of you blowing snot bubbles with our cum, do you have a problem with that?" I held my lips apart as I slowly oozed the cum out of me and dripped it onto the dirty mirror. "No master," I was too tired to even argue the bizarreness of the idea and just accepted it. I did ask "May I ask when Ass Face and I complete our obligation what happens to all these photos and videos you took of us?" Bill who had watched the entire thing in silence said jokingly "They will make up a nice portfolio for you to audition to work in porn." As tired and thoroughly fucked as I was – I did not register it as a joke and it made sense to me. I was not going back into the project management industry any time soon now that I had devastated my career and reputation professionally. "Can ass face do porn if she is only sixteen Sir?" Bill laughed "Slut you amaze me some times," and then after a short pause "It's going to be a fun week teasing and tormenting you two cum gobblers." He laughed and told me to hurry up because Roscoe needed to be fed. "What are we going to do with Roscoe anyway Sir?" if we lost the house – I did not think Rahjid would allow pets at the motel. I had not seen any. "What YOU are going to do with Roscoe is fuck him and suck his dick and after his knot subsides you are going to drip the cum out and gargle with it," Bill said with no uncertainty at all. My eyes grew wide – very wide. "Didn't your obedient slut of a daughter tell she was a little doggy fucker?" Bill's voice made my skin crawl at the mental image of that kind of debauchery. I knew that sort of thing happened – but I assumed in Germany or someplace where weird fetish is the norm. I could not picture an American girl from the suburbs – cheerleader and honor student fucking her own family pet. "It had been brought up but no details sir," I gasped and felt a long wet gob of cum slide down my leg and on to the mirror as it dripped out of my vagina. I think I had not wanted to think it. "Is Roscoe part of this family?" Bill asked me and I respectfully said he was. "Is Roscoe a male or a female? Bill asked and I respectfully said he was a male. "Taylor men rule, Taylor women drool. Now hurry up and let your son see you blow some cum bubbles out of your nose, so you can get the third and final Taylor male off tonight with that piss flap of yours." Bill said and a shiver ran down my spine about what new disgusting thing I was going to have to do tonight. I thought I had reached the highest level of depravity by fully fucking my son and now I was about to go further. "Look I think her asshole just puckered," Chris laughed and demanded I do it again for his camera. ------- Chapter 41: Jamie's Journal: Is there another word for synonym? Note to reader: This is an excerpt of Jamie's journal from Thursday approximately 11 am from her perspective. The events take place as Jamie is naked outside of the motel after stepping out of Doris's cabana. In order to increase readability, some of the dialogue exchanged was altered to appear in a 'narrative' story format. CASH EARNINGS THURSDAY WENDY: $0 WEIGHTS: 0 JAMIE: $50 WEIGHTS: 0 It had just occurred to me I had allowed a young boy I didn't know to shove a broom handle up my ass and I had willingly pulled my ass cheeks apart to let him do it. I was too busy trying to think of a way to moo my permission to him while begging like an eager puppy to really process the reality of this decision. Once Tiontay jammed it hard into my asshole without waiting for my hole to relax and wrap itself around the tip of the broom handle the reality of that decision had started to hit me. I think I was caught up in pretending to be a cow –anyone but myself that I had failed to register how completely over the top this must seem to anyone who might be watching. As fate would have it – someone WAS watching. "Hidey Ho, My favorite ho," the gruff yet oddly cheerful voice of my brother's friend Peter was my first warning and I quickly turned my head to look at the short little man walking out from behind our motel. It was broad daylight and I am sorry – I try to be nice but the person with him looked like one of the homeliest prostitutes I had ever seen. I knew she was a hooker because she was dressed in the same kind of heels and short skirts my brother had made me wear for the last few weeks. He bent down to look under my chest while I remained on all fours in the dirt outside of Doris's little cabana while surrounded by her many mixed-race kids. I don't want to sound racist but other than the three eldest of them I can't tell if they are Hispanic, black or what. "I like you down on all fours like that," a twisted grin spread across his face. "That way you are lower than me," despite Peter's short size his head was that of a big man - I would say about the same size as Mr. Dragovich. "Thank you sir," I replied sheepishly to which I received a jab from the boy still trying to work the broom pole up my ass. "Hey, you 'posed to be a cow," Tiontay demanded as if he were being ripped off by my lack of commitment to the pretend role I had been playing. "Oh Sorry Sir, Moooooooooooooo" I squeaked apologetically while he tried in vain to stab the broom handle up my rectum. Everyone had a good laugh at how pathetic I must have sounded, even the homely prostitute by Peter's side. "Shut up, you want to be down there with this lovely little piece of ass?" Peter's tone returned to his angry gruff tough guy voice as he scolded the woman at his side. "No sir" that was no woman's voice coming out of the prostitute – that was the unmistakable sound of Jerry Cooper in drag. The man we had humiliated the day before when my mom and Chris tied him to a dumpster and left him. I hadn't known exactly what he had done wrong until it had become clear he had taken part in my mother losing her job. Jerry had a complacent sad sack quality – the kind that made it hard to see the good in him. I like to look for the positive things in everyone but with Jerry it is just hard. I've dated a lot of nerdy boys – including Jerry's son since I started this training and many of them have that same 'woe is me' quality that really turns me off, the lack of confidence and worthiness – like I would be too good for them. Naturally, I HAD been 'too good for them' until my brother started renting me out. It wasn't that I had been stuck up – at least I hadn't seen it that way. It was that I had been so wrapped up in school activities that I had not thought about dating and if I had – it would have been with a popular athlete. I never would have thought about dating one of them because I had been led to believe in high school I was to date 'my own kind' – the pretty, popular people. I think I've learned my lesson from all this discipline and I would give more thought to dating a nerdy boy with imagination and a sense of humor like Jerry's son. However, the ones like Jerry who just ooze with low self-esteem I don't think I could date unless my brother made me do it for money. I have to say that I feel a little guilty about dating people for money – like I am someone special whose time is worth money. I have justified this because for one, I was required to do it by my father and brother and because we need the cash. I promised myself I would never do it just for materialistic and shallow gain when I get older. "I said would you like ME to get that broom handle up your ass or do you want him to try to poke you in the butt all afternoon?" Peter's gruff question interrupted my self-reflection as he got my attention with a kick to my ribs. "Oh, Moooo?" I nodded my head yes as I remembered to play along with the role I was playing. I had an appreciation for how effortlessly my brother could slide things up my ass when other men played with it. He would usually work a finger in and get me ready before jabbing something up there - last night I had barely realized he had pushed it four inches up my ass when he tied me up outside. Tiontay made a sh'ckaw sound with his mouth as he reluctantly handed the broom to Peter. "Man, I can do it!" he sounded angry he couldn't keep at it. "Here watch, this is how you slip a broom up a girl's ass," Peter twirled the broom once like a pool cue and licked his finger. Then he slicked up the tip of the broom before spinning it around to my sore asshole while I held my cheeks apart for him. "Just like this here," he gave it a twist and a spin and I felt him drive it up my ass hard – more than six inches! "Oh don't make that face," Peter laughed as my mouth hung open in shock from the sudden jab to my guts. "It seems that if something is not going up your ass, something is coming out of it," he laughed and then slapped Jerry. "You do want to be down there with this little whore don't you?" Peter asked his brother in drag. "N-no Sir" Jerry stammered – not trying to even hide the fact he was a man in a dress. The kids seemed amused at the idea of a man in a dress but not entirely surprised. "Bullshit," Peter spit on the ground right near my foot. "You love the idea of being forced to drag around a broom up that hairy shit hole of yours." Peter was half the size of his brother but more than twice the man. "If you want me too I will Master," Jerry seemed confused and unsure of what to say. I wondered if I sounded that awkward when I was confused. "I know you will you dipshit, you owe me don't you?" Peter demanded an answer. "Yes Sir, I do, Sir" Jerry answered more certain of that answer than his previous ones. "You can't hold a fucking job. You lost the last three jobs you had in three weeks, you can't make alimony payments, you can't make your house payment, you can't take care of your son, your car was repossessed, I had to bail you out of jail, let's face it – you are a fucking loser." his brother laid out a litany of things that Jerry wasn't good at doing and I wondered if Peter knew or cared that many of those applied to us as well. "Y-yes sir, I know, Sir" Jerry answered in agreement with his brother's conclusions. "What is your name now?" Peter asked. I could tell that this was some kind of affirmation like my brother and father did with me and it felt weird not to be one of the participants – just an observer. "Geraldine, Sir" Jerry seemed reluctant to give up his identity and use a female version of his name. "Geral-fucking-dean?" Peter sounded skeptical and slapped his brother on the ass hard. "Your name is my bitch! I LET you go by Geraldine because most guys don't want to fuck someone named Jerry." "Y-yes sir, I know, Sir" Geraldine answered obediently for which he received another slap on the back of his denim mini-skirt. "Yuh-Yuh-Yuh-yess Sah, I know?" Peter mocked his brother's nervous stuttering. The kids surrounding Peter were laughing and that seemed to egg him on. They had mostly lost all interest in me at this point. Geraldine didn't know how to respond to that question and shrugged – which only made the kids laugh and tease him further while they ran in circles. "You'se guys out here bothering Peter?" Doris peeked her head out the window and most of the kids stopped carrying on and running around when they heard her speak once. "Hey Doris, my brother is going to walk track with you tonight," Peter knew her very well – I am sure as a regular customer. "Like I give two shits? He just better not fuck with my regulars" Doris didn't wait for him to answer before turning back into her cabana and letting her screen door slam shut behind her. "I was coming around to thank your brother for giving me the idea," Peter turned his attention back on me. "Is he here?" "No sir, he is at home," I answered him while remaining on all fours in the dirt. "He just lets you wander around the neighborhood naked where anyone can take you?" Peter sounded skeptical. "No, I was tied up but," and before I could explain my circumstances he cut me off with an apathetic wave of his hand. "You talk more than fucking Jerry here," he corrected himself "I mean Geraldine," and slapped his brother as if it was Jerry's fault he had mixed up the names. "You see I am a fucking problem solver," Peter went on to explain how after bailing out his brother once again they reached an agreement. Peter was going to solve all of Jerry's problems and Jerry was going to be his bitch. "Look, I have a lot of great ideas but people don't listen to me. I will give you a good example, Want to solve the crack problem?" He didn't wait for me to answer what I assumed was a rhetorical question. "Get Hoarders addicted to crack, they will sell off all their stuff to buy more crack, boom problem solved." I couldn't tell if he was joking or that was his serious solution. "The thing is, your brother is a fucking genius and a half, sweet-cheeks" Peter absent mindedly kicked the broom that was up my ass. Doris's kids had lost interest in this little spectacle and begun either playing in the dirt themselves or running back inside the cabana while Doris yelled "In or out, make up your mind to pick one, God Dammit!" "If one of the family members is a hard-ass like me, and one of the family members is a pussy like Geraldine then make the pussy work for you and keep it in line. Jerry is a total human shit stain who can't keep his nuts from chafing his thighs without someone telling him to strap a rubber band to them. He needs a strong hand and in exchange he is going to walk the street and I will manage his money and make good decisions for him, just like you." I wanted to explain that it hadn't been exactly like that with us. My mom had decided to continue the discipline arrangement because we thought if they relented on us we would find the act of prostitution a little too repellent. As long as it felt like we were obliged to continue doing this – it felt easier to justify and accept. At least, that is what I had gotten out of my mom's decision to continue allowing the guys carte blanche to control us. Peter didn't give me a chance to explain. "If he isn't here I will call him up, what is his number?" Peter asked. I wondered if Chris would be mad if I had given a customer his phone number but quickly decided that he would probably not mind. I heard Peter make the call and explain what he was doing and his arrangement with Geraldine. "No not like fucking Travis Bickle and Jodie Foster in Taxi Driver," Peter explained to my brother. "It's more like Harvey Keitel's character the pimp". "What do you mean no one will want to fuck my sweet little brother's hairy ass?" Peter said into the phone while holding Geraldine's cheeks in his hand. "There are a lot of sick fucks out here who like strange and my brother is fucking STRANGE!" I could hear my brother laughing on the other end of the line. "He has bigger man boobs than your mom!" Peter insisted and patted Geraldine's chest. He was obviously exaggerating even though Jerry clearly had a padded bra on as well – it was one of those torpedo style bras they used to wear in the 1940s. "What do you mean don't talk about your mom's tits?" Peter seemed confused for a moment and after hearing my brother explain added Oh, don't talk about man boobs? Sorry bro!" I knew my brother was self-conscious about his weight and I remember teasing him about his 'man boobs' when mom and I had the upper hand and were in control over him. Chris had seemed so pasty and flabby – like I imagine Jerry looks when those skimpy slut clothes come off. It is funny how now that Chris has a swagger about him I don't see the pink dough-boy I used to tease just a few weeks ago when his clothes come off. "What is your whore of a mother up to anyway?" Peter asked and then he chuckled "Wow, so the little bitch here is getting off easy then eh?" Peter looked down at me as if he had just heard the ending to the movie I was watching and knew I would be shocked and could barely contain his laughter. If getting milked by strange kids and a broom shoved up my ass while a midget and his transvestite, prostitute brother stand over me was 'getting off easy' – I could only feel sorry for whatever my mother might have been facing at that time. Their conversation went on a little longer and a series of "No fuck YOU," followed by "I said fuck you though" and then "I know you say Fuck me, but I am saying Fuck you," where Peter smiled and playfully joked back and forth with my brother while reaching under my belly and touching my nipple. He hung up abruptly and announced "He said to let you milk yourself, take a shit and piss and then tie you back up," although I don't know how my brother could have ever given him those instructions in between all the jokings –it didn't sound like the topic of me ever came up. Then again – knowing my brother's sense of humor that was sort of the way he had wanted and I had no reason to believe Peter was goofing on me. "I actually just shit and piss and I am completely milked out Sir," I said apologetically. "Oh that's why Doris wanted you down, the little cheap bitch wanted you to feed her kids?" he sounded excited as I nodded affirmatively. "I wish I could have seen that! I want to play Dragon with you so bad!" I didn't know what he meant by that and looked up at him waiting for his explanation. "Dragon my nuts across your face," he laughed and then slapped Geraldine hard on the butt. "C'mon lighten up, that was funny." He had told his brother earlier not to laugh and like me Geraldine seemed to be confused. "You are an obedient little cunt aren't you," Peter didn't wait for me to answer him before adding "Not like this complete screw up. I would much rather have a cunt like you for a day than a waste of space like my brother for a whole month. Hopefully he can scrape up enough to make my investment in him worth the hassle." He said that last part more as a hint to Geraldine that he expected his best effort. "Somewhere out there is a tree tirelessly producing oxygen so you can breathe. I think you owe it an apology." He slapped his brother on the ass hard. "I am going to go talk to Rahjid about how much of a cut he wants on the money you earn. Can you tie up this little slut without fucking that up?" Peter asked his brother without hiding the contempt he felt for him. "Y-yes sir, I think so," Geraldine still sounded exactly like Jerry as he awkwardly stood in his oversized high heels and fishnets over me. "No you can't. If I let you do this by yourself you are going to try to play with this little cherry's pussy aren't you?" Peter said accusingly of Geraldine. "No, never sir" Jerry answered sheepishly while looking at the ground. "See and that's why you have no balls," Peter said with a smirk. "A real man would have finger fucked the shit out of this slut if he had the chance but you wouldn't," Peter chastised his brother for not answering the trick question correctly. "Let's get her tied up together, I don't want you cutting off her circulation or acting desperate for attention and affection like you do around every other female in your life." Peter ordered me to stand up and walk over against the wall. I dusted myself off and slipped into the same position my brother had me in the night before – where my head was about waist high for an average sized man and came up directly to where Peter's eye level. "Oooh you ARE kinky, you want us to tie you up spread eagle like this?" Peter gazed longingly into my eyes as I waited for the toy handcuffs to be locked around my ankles and feet and nodded yes. "It is how my brother left me last night, Sir" I felt guilty. He made me feel like I was perverted and a glutton for punishment as if this awkward and fully exposed position had been my idea for some reason. In a way, it was because I suspect my brother hadn't specified how I was to be bound and that made me shudder – what is wrong with me? Is it that I am too hard-wired to stick to my guns and follow the rules on things or something else? "I am surprised he didn't tie you up on the ground with your ass up over your head and make you a bike rack for Doris's kids to park their stolen bikes in," I wasn't sure if he was serious but I could actually picture how that would work in my mind once he described it. He and his brother cuffed me back in place and I bent down so that I was spread eagle and low to the ground like I had been when my brother left me here. "That is a good idea, make a note of it so I don't forget it" Peter led Geraldine off as he dictated his idea. His brother in wig and makeup nodding his head in agreement. "You aren't going to forget it?" Peter asked as they walked around the corner and I could hear a slap as he said "Bullshit, you will too you dumb fuck" as the voices grew quiet in the distance. I knew that from Doris's house some of the kids were still watching me in the window but not with the shock and disgust that one would expect of most people. It was more the kind of faces I remember at the county fair when people saw me and my mother dancing in exotic and skimpy Spongeboob and Sandy Buttcheeks costumes – a lurid type of excitement. I also knew that I had better get used to their stares because it was still early in the day and I had plenty of time before dark and my return to another night of prostitution and discipline at my brother and father's hand. I was shocked to think I was looking forward to that instead of being bound up naked as I was – but given a choice between the two I knew I would rather have been walking the streets. There was a kind of adventurousness to being able to walk around where I wanted to go in the dirty side streets of MLK boulevard's neighborhoods. I spent the next hour or so desperately wishing for something to drink and someone to come scratch my nose while the sun beat down on me against the back wall of our cabana. I was surprised no one had complained or had a concern about a naked girl being tied up this way – but then this isn't Cherry Lawn Estates and it takes a lot more to shock these people – obviously. I also wondered what my mom was doing that was so much worse than what had happened to me. I worried about her and cursed Peter for laughing when he found out but not telling me – suspense makes my imagination go wild filling in the blanks of what may be happening. I know whatever it was – it was probably amusing Chris and a strange part of me took satisfaction in that – 'at least my brother is probably laughing his ass off'. Is that me looking for the bright side in everything or do I value my brother's amusement over whatever ordeal my mother had to go through for it? Is the reason I am not shocked and horrified by her ordeal because I think my mom is tough enough to take whatever Chris can dish out her way? I was pondering this while occasionally seeing Tiontay and Dante' or the other kids congregate at one of the windows in Doris's cabana until they were herded away by Doris who seemed fairly unconcerned that they were staring at a naked girl splayed wide open with a broom handle up her ass and more concerned that they were bothering me. "You didn't think I would leave you out here by your lonesome?" It was Peter again but this time his brother was not with him. "I've got my loser of a brother off walking day shift and I thought you and I might pass a little time if you are just hanging around?" he grinned at his own pun as if I would laugh too. I tried to smirk – but there was an angriness about his humor that was unlike how my brother would have said it. My brother can be angry, sadistic and at times brutal but when he tells a joke – even if he is being nasty, it does naturally make me want to smile. It didn't at first but I've grown accustomed to the way he tells the joke. In any case, I gave Peter a polite smile of consolation and acknowledgement of what he said. "I have to take a piss," He announced "You don't mind if I have a whiz in wet snatch do you?" he started to unzip himself. "Doris's kids can see you Sir," I reminded him that there was a gaggle of kids watching from the window behind him – feeling he might want to rethink what he was about to do. "So?" he seemed apathetic and angry that I had bothered him with that detail. "Do you not care that they see you pissing on me Sir?" I found it difficult to process his anger and apathetic outlook. I couldn't relate to someone who saw negativity in everything but more so I wondered how he could be so unconcerned about what he did around these kids. I had been naked in front of them but what choice did I have in the matter? I was still concerned about what message it was sending and if I was corrupting innocent minds. "Why would I give three shits about what they think?" his face soured. "They live around hookers, trannies and drug dealers. The kids around here grow up much faster than the sheltered, rich bitches where you are from." He explained while massaging the full sized cock he removed from his pants. I think that just like his head is not to scale with the rest of his body – his dick was the same, a thick cock that seemed out of place on such a little body. "If the parents don't move away from the hood, then they can't really fault the hood for being the hood," He explained his belief and while I didn't agree I could see his point. He added while pissing directly on my clit ring with extreme accuracy "When are you going to learn to drink piss like a good little slut?" he asked without looking up at me. "I started last night Sir," I admitted to him and the stream of warm piss hitting my clit stopped abruptly. His blue eyes looked up at me and then he smiled a sharktooth grin. "You actually drink piss?" he seemed excited and I got the impression he just wanted to hear me say it again. "You can't read it on my chest anymore but it used to say urinal sir," I admitted. I have to say I liked seeing him get excited when I told him that. I liked it even more adding "For paying customers though sir, as far as I know you aren't one and you aren't a keyholder." "You are letting me piss on your little pussy flap, why won't you let me piss on your mouth? No hooker out here has ever let me do that!" "I don't have a lot of choice in what you do to my pussy sir, you handcuffed me to the wall." I knew my brother probably would have made him a key holder but Chris hadn't told me he was and I wasn't going to offer that suggestion. "for that matter, I can't stop you from pissing on my face, but I can keep my mouth closed unless you pay me." "Fuck you! You whore!" He seemed irritated. "You are going to charge me after I am a friend of your brother's and all that?" "I am a whore sir, and my brother is my pimp. If you want to piss in my mouth you can, you just have to pay to play." I had heard Ronnie use the phrase pay to play to one of her customers the night before and thought it sounded appropriate. Even though I was firm I could tell the cutesy and innocent way I was talking seemed to infuriate him and it only made me secretly yearn to keep doing it. I think just as it was strangely exhilarating to tease Mrs. Waxerman with white alert by being over the top in what we were doing around her – the opposite was true around Peter. He could be so cruel and bitter and perverted that I felt a similar satisfaction denying him. Even though he could bully his brother and just about anyone else – I found it interesting that despite the fact I was completely helpless my attitude was preventing him from pissing in my mouth as he considered what to do. "Fine, but I am not going to pay more than forty dollars to use your mouth." He finally said. "I will suck your cock for twenty, but if you want to piss in my mouth it is going to cost fifty Sir". I gave him as firm a look as I could muster. "Jesus, it's not like I am going to take a shit in that fucking mouth hole of yours," He complained and reached for his wallet. "Where exactly do you want me to shove this money?" I had not even expected to work behind the motel – much less have much say over what happens to me when I was tied up. I am not so naïve and trusting not to know that if he left the money out here that Doris or her boys would run off with it. "Can you take it to Rahjid, Sir?" "Christ, how would you know how much I gave him, if I gave him anything at all?" I could see Peter getting frustrated and it only encouraged me to play with him a little. "Ask him for a receipt for fifty dollars to piss in my mouth and he will give you a sheet of paper, show me that and you can soak my mouth if you want, Sir." I replied in as dainty and demure a way as I could muster. "Damn, I am not sure I can even piss now. Can't I just owe Chris the next time I see him?" he bargained with me. "You are asking for credit from a whore? Surely, you know better, Sir" I couldn't hide the slight smile of satisfaction that had grown on my lip and it only made him back down further. "Fine, but when I get back you are going to drink every fucking drop of piss," I nodded my head in agreement and he added "and I am going to drink a bottle of water too!". I just smiled as if to say 'bring it on' and my lack of fear or disgust only seemed to me to make him want to see a look of fear or disgust on my face even more. As he walked off muttering to himself about 'stomping a mudhole in my ass' I was reminded of the very first full day my mother and I began our discipline. We had been the subject of scorn and ridicule at a party we had thrown after Cathy Griffin and her brothers had turned our world upside down and made us serve as bartenders in thong bikinis the night before. If we had thought that was humiliating at the time - it now seems so much more innocent and easy than anything we've done since. I remember her and I were outside discussing how to respond to my father and brother's new demands and rules for payback over how we had treated them. I told my mom that one tactic we could use was to play along and accept as much abuse as they could throw at us – act like we enjoyed it and that would take the fun out of it for them. In retrospect I don't think my dad and brother would have ever grown bored with that arrangement but I could see now that I was enjoying an evolved way of looking at that tactic. I was completely tied up and unable to move but I had managed to hold all the cards and make Peter jump through hoops to use me. It was important to Peter that I be willing but also he wanted to humble me and make me disgusted. I am sure that on some level it was why he wanted to pee on women in the first place. If I wanted to tease Peter I would have to show no fear and tell him to 'bring it on'. Even though I had very little regard for his brother after what he did to my mom – I think the fact he was so cruel to Jerry made me feel like toying with him and I had all day to kill anyway. Peter walked back still muttering about lazy whores and irritating motel owners holding a sheet of paper while shaking a water bottle he was drinking. He showed me that Rahjid had wrote out a bill of sale indicating "One pee on the whore fifty dollar" with his signature of approval. "Okay, thank you Sir, you may pee when ready then," I held my mouth open wide and stared at him without flinching. He took his cock out of his pants and aimed at my face with delight but he could not pee. "Stop doing that!" he said. "Whaff Sah?" I asked him what while holding my mouth open as wide as I could. "Stop looking at me like a fucking angel all sweet," he said and broke his eye contact with me. "You aren't supposed to seem so eager." "Sah-ree Sah," I wasn't sorry even though I apologized. I also changed nothing about my expression other than a very slight upturn smile on the edges of my wide open mouth. "Okay there it goes," his stream of yellow acrid urine hit my breast as it fell short of my mouth and he seemed angry with me for somehow not being able to coax a heartier stream out of his dick. He stepped closer and put his dick right up to my mouth and added "How do you like it now, bitch?" as he flooded my mouth with urine. Had it been my first taste of the sour apple taste of warm piss I would have probably wanted to spit it out. I closed my mouth each time he filled it up and swallowed while shaking my head yes approvingly. "Is that all Sir?" I licked my lips and tried to convincingly seem as though my stomach hadn't just rolled from being drenched in urine - pissed in and on by a midget outside in broad daylight while I am sure Doris's kids watched from the window and laughed. "Is that ALL?" Peter couldn't believe the audacity with which I had asked the question. "Yes Sir, do you have a little more for me?" I pretended to be thirsty and lusting for him to fill my mouth with a little more of the disgusting yellow swill. He looked down and said nothing as he kicked the dirt with his shoe. I noticed he was wearing heavy boots with lifts to give him a little extra height and I smiled that I may have swallowed his piss but I got the better of him. Three of Doris's eldest kids came out of the Cabana shortly after he finished. Janet, who was still wearing a flimsy night gown said "You pee peed on her face, that NASTY!" and the boys Dante' and Tiontay just laughed. "Can we do that?" Tiontay asked me politely as if asking to take a turn playing on the playground with a favored toy. I knew what he was asking and I answered "Yes Sir" without hesitation. "That SO NASTY!" their sister Janet declared as she put her hands on her hips in righteous indignation I was reminded of a young Mrs.Waxeman. She announced she was going to go tell but stood right there and watched as the boys unzipped their pants together. Dante' was first to unzip and Tiontay who seemed to be the shy one of the boys followed sheepishly taking out his small black dick and wiggling it at me. "You better put doze away, or I am so telling Ma," Janet stared right at the two boys' dicks and tried to shame them back into their zippers. "Go on and tell then- she said we could" Dante' used his words sparingly but it was clear he was the leader of the kids. I already had my mouth wide open for them to piss in as I looked right at Peter who seemed to shrink right before my eyes. He had a look on his face of wonder – I knew he was thinking 'You just made me pay fifty dollars and you are letting them do it for free?". "They don't have fifty dollars, Sir" I smiled my anticipated answer to his question as the first of the boy's streams hit my chin. I even lowered my head by craning my neck as much as I could to help them hit my mouth and swallowed their piss. I imagined it was fresh water and that I was in a marathon and needed a drink to keep going while trying to keep the look of disgust off my face. I even smiled broadly when they were finished. "Do you have any more for me, Sirs?" I said pleadingly. Unlike Peter – young teenage boys do have the ability to conjure up more urine from their bladders. First Dante' followed by Tiontay splattered my face with a second stream of urine before hitting my mouth with it. I smiled broadly while they sprayed my mouth with their piss and I could see them both smiling too while Peter sulked about wasting fifty dollars. "They SOO nasty!" Janet was standing behind them continuing to watch the entire spectacle. I could see her siblings in the window and Doris walking out of the door with a look of disgust on her face. I was embarrassed to have piss dribbling down my chin and in what I had just encouraged her sons to do but at the same time I was relieved – that as a mother she had finally reached the line of absurd and disgusting behavior and was going to put a stop to it. "Tiontay and Dante' Velacruz what in the world are you two doing to this poor girl?" Doris was upset – but it seemed she was more upset to have been interrupted than with what she saw. I swallowed nervously in any case as I knew I was to blame for egging them on. "We just pee in her mouth, Mama, she SAID we could," Tiontay answered defensively. "You tell them to do this?" Doris wasn't asking me – she was looking right at Peter accusingly. "I know you are a freak and you tried to pee on me before!" "I didn't say one thing to your rugrats!" Peter was shocked that he was being asked anything at all. Even if he was a small man – he sure could cast a big shadow. "I am sorry about my boys," Doris apologized to me while ignoring Janet's cries for punishment of her siblings on the grounds of being 'nasty'. Doris didn't even act sorry for what they did – it was more she was impatient with them. I nodded that I did not mind – and in truth I didn't. I had tasted and drank pee enough times now that I was fairly certain it was going to be a regular part of my training going forward and that I wasn't upset – I had accepted it. "If your pimps are going to tie you up in the future, you may want to ask them to do it someplace else because my boys are going to fuck you if they can get away with it." "You keep acting up, I will tie you up out there with her," her brother Victor was wearing a white wife-beater tank top and underwear as he walked out on the porch of their cabana. "Chit Poppy, you isn't tying up nobody," her Puerto Rican and New York accent became heavy as she fired back her rejection of his authority with a hint of snark. "I will tie up this dick in your mouth," he cupped his balls and flashed her a smile as if this banter went on all the time – and I suspect it did. "You mean that dick up YOUR ass, Poppy!" Doris joked with her brother and took one look at me "Okay, you sure you don't need anything?" she asked me – it was obvious she did not care because she didn't wait for me to answer before ushering her kids back inside. Peter stood there shaking his head in disbelief. "Crazy bitch charges too much for what she is worth." – I wasn't sure if he meant me or her. I just smiled at him. I must have looked completely ridiculous as I was tied up naked with piss dripping down my face and a broom rammed up my ass. "Bitch, let me ask you something," He snarled at me with a look of disgust. "Is there another word for synonym?" I didn't see that irreverent question coming given how serious and angry his demeanor was. He gave me a smile and winked to reveal he had just been pulling my chain. "Don't take life so god damned seriously, bitch. You think you made me jealous or something. I got to watch those two little fuckers piss all over you?" he faced me and began to play and turn the broom handle in my ass a little as he spoke to me... "Let me tell you something, I enjoyed watching it. You know what else you little twaddle?" I wasn't sure what a 'twaddle' was but I knew he was asking me a question so I swallowed in exasperation and nodded that I did not actually know what else. I was still puzzling about his joke about the synonym and wondering if there actually was not another word for one. "I think you enjoy this too. I know you think I am a callous prick for making my brother walk the track. The thing is you are probably right about that, but I also know that my brother secretly wants to be treated this way. It was as obvious as the nipples on your fat tits" he poked my breast hard with his stubby finger. "I love how that blue vein throbs on the top of your left boob," he observed before moving up into my face. "Okay, sugar cookie, you are turned on by being degraded and humiliated, and here the proof is in the pudding," he jabbed a stubby finger in my cunt and pulled it out. He sniffed it and put the sticky finger under my nose. "Tastes like American honey to me," and licked his lips. I didn't acknowledge whether he was right or not. I was certainly aroused but a long time ago mom and I came to the conclusion that our bodies' reaction to the disgusting things they made us do was not the same as arousal of our mind. It was a physical reaction to an external stimulus. That is what I told myself – because in truth I couldn't be sure if the devious little bastard was right or not. ------- Chapter 42: Wendy's Journal: If you are going to act like a turd go lay in the yard ****Note to reader: This is an excerpt of Wendy's journal from Thursday early morning from her perspective. The events take place as Wendy is brought home by her son and husband. In order to increase readability, some of the dialogue exchanged was altered to appear in a 'narrative' story format. CASH EARNINGS THURSDAY WENDY: $0 WEIGHTS: 0 JAMIE: $50 WEIGHTS: 0 It had just occurred to me that I had agreed to everything my husband and son had told me to do and I had not only not complained I had insisted on it. I realized that in agreeing to these acts of humiliating contrition, I had been a role model to which my daughter aspired, resulting in her agreeing to them as well. I might have wanted to stop and discuss all of this, but it had also occurred to me that none of that changes the reason I agreed in the first place – I had abused my power when I had it. Not only had I cuckolded my son and husband, but long before that ever took place, I had focused on a career and favored my daughter while coddling my son and husband to create their dependency. Even if I wanted to stop and discuss it, I was naked on all fours in the back of my husband's truck with a dirty rag stuffed in my mouth and a broom handle shoved six inches up my ass as the cold night air whipped over my bare skin. At least they had removed the weight from my pussy lips – small favors I suppose. Chris had said "You have been a good slut tonight" when he lubed up my ass and slid the broom inside of me. He patted my head and snipped the fishing line they had attached the sinker too and I actually thanked him. I should have screamed that he had just rammed a broom up my ass but I remained naked in the truck and held my ass cheeks apart until he told me I could release them while I thanked him for the kindness of removing the weight from my cunt. I was surprised they had thought I had been good! I didn't feel worthy of that kindness and I can't really explain what has happened to my self-esteem since I began this desperate decline into submission to the men of my family. They knew it had not been my fault I lost the butt plug they made me call my 'passport' even though they joked about how my tail hole looked so empty and swollen without the pretty diamond winking at them. I was feeling the aching in my swollen breasts, the bruises from all the spankings and beatings. I was too busy thinking about whether they intended to make me have sex with Roscoe, our family pet for the last four years, to notice the difference between the broom handle and the fat metal butt plug. How would sex with Roscoe work? I will admit that weighed heavily on my mind. What would that be like? Would they really do that or had they just enjoyed watching my asshole open and pucker from the abject fear and terror I was feeling? Were they going to get me to the house and reveal they had just been teasing me and wanted to see my reaction? In the last few weeks I can't recall my husband ever kidding about something like this and I know Chris was a joker – but I seriously doubted he was going to say 'Fooldja' when we got home. Home? It wouldn't be for very much longer – it would belong to the bank after this weekend. I had been told that Jamie had sex with Roscoe earlier today. I gather she did it not only in front of Bill and Chris but many of her friends had seen her do it. I didn't have details and perhaps it was the mental images my mind was painting of the scenario that was making it seem even more terrifying. Had Jamie really done it? Why did this even come up? I mean I know the guys are twisted perverts but why Roscoe and Jamie? I could tell we were back in Cherry Lawn Estates by the bright overhead lamps. They were quaint street lamps designed to look like those ornate 1920s street lamps. It was about 3AM so I wasn't as concerned anyone would see me in the back of Bill's truck as much as I was about the sickening fate in store for me at home. I wondered about Jamie as well – I had been so wrapped up in worry about what was going to become of me when we got to our house that I had pushed the image of her out of my mind. I had spent the night before outside tied up to the back of the cabana and I knew how rough it had been. I remember my lips chapping and drool running down the side of my mouth as I was gagged and bound all night and the afternoon the day before. I had faded in and out of consciousness and become delirious for a short period -although in my defense, that may have had to do with the frog those boys made me lick. I had seen Jamie carry a tub of Crisco shortening and a broom with her when he marched her out of the cabana – I am sure Chris mounted his sister outside like a scarecrow on that broom. In a few short hours those boys who played with me would be waking up and will find her out there and that was if she was lucky – what if someone who was far more disgusting and dangerous like Deacon Dan or that filthy little midget found her? I knew someone would discover her outside and I found myself actually praying that it would be those same boys who found me – all in all, the lesser of all evils. Jamie is a tough girl and she has been through a lot but I couldn't help but worry for her. "Okay Lard Ass," we had already stopped. I prayed we were in our drive way as I looked up to try to get my bearings. Chris was lowering the flat bed gate to let me out of the truck. "Crawl on all fours, clench that broom and keep it tight up your ass hole. If you drop it, it's your ass." his threat serving as a sadistic play on words. "Feels just like your passport except longer doesn't it?" and I nodded agreement without really considering what he was asking - I was just trying to behave myself. "You are a skin bag around a giant sack of shit," he laughed as I climbed down onto my grass. "Dad, the lawn needs mowing, when is the last time we had these cunts cut it?" "Don't worry about it, remember the bank is taking it back this weekend." Bill answered him pragmatically. "The cunt saw to that," Bill inferred that it was entirely my fault that we lost the house. In part it was, as somehow that was engineered by my rivalry with Vicky at work as much as it was from my fall from grace and inability to pay our bills. My stomach hurt as I looked up from my front yard at our two story suburban American dream house. I remember when we moved in when the kids were little and there were so many possibilities about where life would lead. I am sad to report that mine has evolved into being naked on the front lawn at four in the morning. "She is a turd, she should have to lay in the yard like one," Bill came around the truck to where Chris was standing over me and looked down at me with a grin. "Isn't that right honey?" he teased me condescendingly. I nodded it was – I still had the gag in my mouth from earlier. "Would you like to lay in the front yard with that broom up your ass until morning?" Bill continued to ask in the same condescending tone like he was babying me. "I am sure your idol Van would come out and love to see that broom up your big asshole," was he still jealous over the neighbor? He had no reason to be – if my devotion to him through all of this wasn't apparent I don't know what else could be. I realized this was a legitimate question he was asking and not a rhetorical joke when Bill kicked my broom with his foot to get my attention. I shook my head that I did not want to stay out on the front lawn like I was – emphatically! "Oh, look at her eyes, so expressive!" Bill laughed at how wide-eyed and worried I must have been. "You would think there is a neighbor of ours who hasn't seen that precious bare ass tattoo of hers or those fat nipples wiggling in the breeze." Chris laughed and agreed with his father. "Yeah, I should have made them jog more often, tits bouncing up while ass cheeks bouncing down!" he mimicked a slightly exaggerated jog in place. "Okay Mrs. Prude," Bill seemed disappointed I hadn't jumped at the chance to remain naked on the front lawn. "I take it you want to hurry up to the backyard so you can service Roscoe?" He prodded me for an answer. How was I to answer that? If I was the dutiful slut that I had accepted being then I was supposed to gleefully agree but I was legitimately scared and disgusted in a way that I had not been before – even given all the things we had done the last few weeks. I nodded slowly trying to hold the unexpected tears from my eyes. If I really was not going to go through with this I would have stood up and pulled the broom from my ass. I wasn't tied up here – I could stop at any time and I knew I was giving in and doing as I was told. "Awww, I would have expected a little more enthusiasm like your slut of a daughter," Bill chided me for my reaction. "Let's keep track of that when we compare the too." He said to Chris and slapped the side of his leg for me to follow him. I did as I was told as I followed on all fours as I crawled across a lawn wet with wet morning mist. "The lawn is as wet as mom's cunt," he laughed while prodding me to 'pick up the pace' as I drug my broom handle behind me like a long tail into my living room. "Take a good long look from the floor, cow tits" Bill announced as we walked in and he turned on the lights. "We are going to lose everything here and we can't even afford storage space for this shit. All our credit cards are completely over-extended." The house seemed so quiet and empty – alien to me. It had not been lived in very much the last few days but I already felt distant from it. It used to be a home but now it felt like just a house to me – a house with stuff. The stuff still had sentimental value to me but I wondered how important it really was – I could get over losing it all once this rotten ordeal was over. I knew though that before that happens Bill would have fun rubbing my nose in it and I was going to let him. "You have a long day in front of you. We are going to pack up all your old shit and sell what we can and you are going to be grateful to anyone who comes over to buy it," Bill informed me with a half-smirk on his face. I knew he was serious – I could just tell he was taking way more delight in what was to come than he probably should have. "Go ahead and get that broom out of your ass and clean it off," Chris said as if he were being generous to me. He bent down to take my gag out and threw it in the cardboard box marked 'sluts' by the door that used to have our clothes in it. They had brought most of it down to the motel over the last few days. "Don't worry slut, I can see you have a hungry asshole and it misses your passport. We'll keep it tightly packed until we find some long term toy to cram up there." "Thank you Master, very generous," I said trying to sound pleasing but the Taylor men ignored me and talked amongst themselves while I worked the broom out of my ass. I wasn't looking forward to getting it packed again but I had signed up for this and I have to admit – I felt strangely guilty at times when my ass wasn't packed with something as if I were getting away with something. The broom was packed in there deep but I slid it out and brought it around to clean off with my mouth allowing a little wind to escape my exhausted back door quietly so Chris didn't laugh. I was immediately confronted with the fact that I had left a long brown slime trail on the length of the smooth wooden handle. "That face?" Bill looked down to notice I had made a face of disgust. "You have a problem all of a sudden cleaning your own mess?" Chris didn't wait for me to answer before laughing "She poop striped the broom handle! Classic." "Ordinarily no Master, it's just that you didn't give me a chance to shit before we left the motel," I didn't want to sound like I was being disobedient but I thought it was important for me to give an explanation. I had rimmed assholes and cleaned off dildos that had been in my ass but this was a little more than just a tiny brown dab of butt mud- this was a long strip of crap. "You are basically milk, fudge, and lemonade machines!" Bill gave me a stern look of disapproval as he spoke in euphemisms about the breast milk, crap and piss that he seemed to feel was a chore to deal with. "With a little snot icing," Chris snorted at his addition to the bodily fluids that he felt obliged to mention – the mental image he painted reminded me quickly of how he had made me blow snot bubbles with his cum before we left the motel. I took a deep breath and shut my eyes. I held the broom handle out and opened my mouth and then began to lick it. "Don't just lick around the tip either, all the way down the shaft, slut!" Chris laughed at the double entendre' of his advice and I could hear Bill give him an attaboy slap on the shoulder. "Keep those eyes open? What have we taught you about accepting your place and not sugar coating anything? How can you learn that you are a little shit gobbler if you don't actually open your eyes?" Bill advised and I opened my eyes as instructed. "Well, she could smell it," Chris joked and Bill gave him another attaboy slap except I think that one was to ask him to stop being such a smart ass. I did as instructed and cleaned the broom thoroughly – cleaning every square inch of it gave me a new appreciation for just how far it had been lodged up my ass. "As fun as this is to watch, I take it you are hungry?" Bill asked and I looked up as I had almost finished cleaning the broom. Bill glowered at me "Not you greedy-guts, you'll get to eat soon enough. I am talking to your son." I felt foolish as I looked down at the broom in front of me and continued cleaning. "You are getting to nibble a giant fudge cycle and you want more to eat?" Chris laughed as if he couldn't believe I was such a pig. The two of them talked in hush tones above me while I finished cleaning my broom. It really wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be – but it wasn't pleasant either. "It wasn't so bad was it, porky?" Bill bent down to inspect the broom handle – flipping it to check for any missed spots. I am sure my daughter little miss perfect would have been delighted when he couldn't find any – but I was still in shock at what I had become. I nodded that it wasn't. "I asked you a question, slut!" Bill smacked my butt cheek with his palm and I perked right up. "No sir, sorry sir! I was um licking my lips," an innocent lie to amuse them – and they both chuckled. "Are we being unfair to you stink-broom?" Bill asked me in a mock sympathetic tone. "Should we not make you clean your own broom? Perhaps Chris and I should clean it off for you?" he grinned menacingly. "No sir, thank you for making me do that," I bit my lip slightly but I would not make the mistake of just nodding again anytime soon. I tried to look on the bright side that it would make whoring much easier if things like that did not disgust me. When I was a teenager I used to always look on the bright side like Jamie. I think I have evolved my way of thinking to just try to think of a way to make sense of something disgusting like what I had just done and find some constructive benefit- there is a subtle distinction. "You can stand up and go make us some bacon and pancakes," Bill ordered. He didn't have to say it twice – I was already standing. "Wow, I love when her tits bounce and shake when she stands up," Chris laughed at my eagerness. I hadn't tried to seem over-eager but I am sure it came across that way. "Get down and give me five burpees," Chris pointed back to the floor. I looked at Bill who had just given me an order to fix them some food for confirmation. Bill slapped my face hard "One of your owners just gave you an order!" I wasn't sure if he meant that I should carry out his first or carry out the second and updated order. A second slap and the words "Get on the fucking floor and do the burpees so I can eat my bacon! I am fucking tired" was all the confirmation I needed from Bill on what to do next. I was exhausted too – but years going to Pilates and aerobics paid off with my endurance. Jamie and Chris's PE Teacher had shown them a number of burpees – most of which Chris could not actually do himself but delighted in watching us do. There were box-jump, muscle-up and one-armed burpees and all sorts of insidious variations but I knew he wanted a classic one – unless he told me otherwise. The four step burpee first begins in in a standing position. In Gym class this would be at attention but naturally he wants us with legs spread apart and hands holding ass cheeks apart – not to remove them. First step is drop into a squat position with your hands on the ground. (count 1). "I am a slut, Sir" Second, extend your feet back in one quick motion to assume the front plank position. (count 2) "I am YOUR slut, Sir". Third - Return to the squat position in one quick motion. (count 3) "I am a cunt, Sir". Finally, Return to standing position and pull ass cheeks apart (count 4) "Can your cunt do another, Sir?" We had practiced these almost every day when Chris delivered aerobics exercises to us when this all began. I knew it had been pay back for riding Chris about his health and making him and his father work out and I had been a good sport and gone along with it- I would do so again. After five of those, Bill grew bored but Chris was still giggling each time my tits and ass jiggled while I performed the burpee flawlessly and called out the cadence for my son's eager amusement. Bill prodded me into the kitchen by rapidly but playfully smacking my butt over and over like bongo drums as he drove me forward. I was actually smiling and so was he that he was being a little playful – but I suspected he was over tired. He and Chris sat down at the dinner table while I cooked in the nude for them. I think whatever I decide after this is all over – I never want to cook in the nude again. The bacon grease always manages to pop up and hit me or get all over my skin. I smiled at myself as I flipped the pancakes wondering to myself. I had just been contemplating continuing to cook in the nude after this was all over – why? I smiled and decided I would probably do it every now and then just to see the look on their faces. I pictured one Sunday morning as Bill and Chris were sitting at the table just as they are now. They would have this look of shock on their face as I saunter down from the bedroom in my old dog collar that I had saved. I would be wiggling my tattoo covered ass and teasingly say "Oh hello sirs, did you want breakfast?" Maybe Jamie would walk down and join in on the little game and we would have a laugh about how things used to be. I was quickly jostled from my fantasy about life after this situation. I had forgotten that we would be losing the house and so whatever happened – we wouldn't be coming down the stairs here like I had imagined. I was also quickly reminded by Chris throwing ice cubes at my back that they were still the boss of me. "Hurry up slut!! HONGRY!" Chris banged his silverware on the table as he demanded I cook the bacon and pancakes faster for him. "Yes Master, I am cooking as fast as I can," I answered sheepishly. I had been caught off guard by a hard chunk of ice from his drink in my back –otherwise I might have responded with a sassy little teasing joke. "Do you want a piece of bacon?" Bill asked me. The question was unexpected and I wasn't sure if it was a trick question or not. "I asked do you want a piece of bacon? I don't like to repeat myself, slut." "Yes Master, I would love it - but Taylor sluts don't usually get to eat bacon?" I looked over my shoulder at him thoughtfully. They had kept us on a strict diet and at best we might get a little bacon gristle after they were done. "We have to eat it all up anyway or it will go to waste," Bill seemed tired as he waited at the kitchen table. "Don't worry skank, I will make you earn it." He added as if he were reassuring me he wasn't intending on breaking his pattern of being a difficult task master. "Thank you master, I would be grateful," I said – I was completely truthful about that. "The only things keeping my mind off my hunger are my bruises, my cuts, my full and over-due tits needing milking, my full bladder and my full bowels, Sir" I joked. "Bladder and bowels?" Bill cleared his throat. "My cunt full of piss and my asshole full of my own shit, Master" I corrected – but I smiled and so did he. I was tired and had forgotten the protocol – half expecting a punishment. I wondered if he was amused or just so over-tired that he was smiling but no punishment was offered so he must have taken it as a joke. "You can stick one piece of bacon up your ass now," Bill said when my back was turned and I froze – I could tell he was not smiling or joking. "When we finish eating, you will squat and be permitted to eat it off the floor." I said nothing as he continued to explain "Or if chocolate bacon is too good for you, you can squat for roscoe later and he will show you how to be grateful for it." "It is after all bacon," Chris had a love of all things bacon – and he was clearly amused by this arrangement. I picked up a piece of nearly cooked bacon – it was still hot and I waved it to let the oil drip back into the pan. "Hurry, hurry!" Bill insisted and without turning around I put the bacon down to my waist and began to stuff it up my ass. It was warm but not scalding and it made my skin crawl with goose bumps. "I think I would like Cow tits to eat all her food this way," Chris smirked and I gave him the kind of sour-faced smile that Jamie does when he teases her. He gave me the same grin he gives her as he added "No," and let me think he changed his mind before adding "I will probably want to see her stick it in all her holes, like dipping sauce for McNuggets." "How many holes do you have, cow tits?" Bill asked. "Three sir, my cunt, asshole and mouth." I answered while resisting the urge to tap my asshole to cool it off from the warm bacon as I prepared their plates. "Who owns those holes? You?" Bill asked. "You and Chris own my holes Sir," I answered him as I brought the plates over to the table. "Who owns your daughter's holes?" Bill asked while he watched me serve him the food. "You both own our holes, the Taylor women serve the Taylor men Sir." I answered his mini-affirmation. I almost suggested he wait until I finish setting the table and pouring the OJ if he was going to give me a full one. "Do you resent us for deciding what goes in and out of those gaping, wet holes?" Bill sounded a little sleep-deprived and punchy as he yawned his question. I had to smirk that he added the descriptive terms gaping and wet – were they really that disgustingly huge? "No Sir, thank you for training me and my daughter. We asked you for this discipline so we can be good whores for the family." I perked up. Chris pinched my ass playfully as I bent over the table to hand him the butter. I didn't even think twice about it- instead I pictured that fantasy Sunday when I would be volunteering to cook breakfast and he gave me a relatively harmless and playful pinch like he just did. "So if Chris wants to see you put food up one hole and then stuff it in your mouth hole so you can eat it, is that his decision or yours?" I didn't realize Bill was making a point until he asked that question. "Actually, I want to see her stuff food up her asshole or cunt, then pull it out and stuff it in her mouth hole, then watch as she shits it back out her asshole – a sort of three way cycle." Chris clarified like a smart ass. "Every time I eat Sir?" I asked gingerly –that sounded very extreme and I was concerned Bill might not be thinking straight considering it was past four in the morning and he had been up all day. "No every time you play fucking Badminton," He grabbed a handful of my ass cheek to punctuate his point. "That will make dinner with the Waxerman's fairly interesting," I tried to offer a joke but Bill squeezed my ass harder to tell me he was serious. "I asked you a question slut. If your son wants you to stuff your ass with food before you eat it, are you too good for it?" Bill insisted I answer and I knew he was serious. I also knew that he usually thought things through and right now he might be very tired and may have been doubling-down on the idea without really giving it a lot of thought. "What about when we eat in public places though Master?" I tried to reason with him while remaining very submissive and not struggling out of his grip on my ass cheeks. "You will be told to take it in the bathroom or better yet, we'll walk you to the dumpster so we can supervise you filling up your ass. Then after the dinner you can be walked back out to where you put it in after cooking it in your belly for a few minutes and eat it like a little whore." Bill yawned and I knew he was trying to get a rise out of me – but I couldn't tell just how serious he was about this new rule. I didn't want to mention that we work with whores – and none of them that I know eat food that they've shoved up their asses. The anal-retentive in me wanted to say that – but then I almost laughed at the double meaning 'anal retentive' might have if I had said it just then. "Does Ass face have to do this too?" I am anal retentive and I can't help myself asking detail questions when I probably should not. Bill is a 'big picture' guy who also expects and knows me well enough to know that I am a detail person. "You both have choices. You can oblige your owners who want to see your holes used to spice your food, or you can wear more weights on those precious fat pussy lips of yours," Bill reached around with his other hand and pulled on my sore cunt lips to make his point. When I first started working as a junior project manager one of my bosses used to come up with rules that many would see as an over-reaction. If he went to copy something on the photocopier and there was not enough paper then he would insist on a process to make sure there was paper and someone to make sure that someone else did the job. We would all agree to the new rule and nod our head and then after about two days we would all conveniently forget – and so would he. I think he knew that his rules were often over-reactive and he may have actually appreciated us forgetting them after the 'crises' he was trying to resolve never really materialized as a problem after all. There was one project manager who challenged him on these rules. I remember she would even joke about how she had failed to put the "TPS coversheet on the TPS report and if you could just go ahead and mmmkay do that," to mock how he talked at work. I also remember when he enthusiastically fired her for something 'unrelated' and thought to myself sometimes you have to decide if you want to be right or if you want to win. I had chosen winning and I ended up in his role as a senior vice president many years later. Bill reached up and twisted my fat nipples hard – and a little milk dripped out. "You don't think I am fucking serious slut, but you need to be toughened up. You want to get through this day, you better do what I tell you and do it with a smile like an obedient little slut, you got it?" "Yes Master, I have my bacon in my ass," I agreed with him while I stood in his grasp at the kitchen table. "You don't have to tell me where your bacon is unless I ask and it is MY god-damned bacon in the asshole on your body that belongs to ME isn't it cow tits?" Bill demanded – no longer showing signs of being tired. "Yes sir, and your son Sir" I found that when discussing Chris it was best to say 'his son' and when discussing Jamie it seemed to be 'my daughter'. "Is it just me or is this bitch mocking us?" Bill became irate with me. I am sure it was in part because he was overly tired but he dressed me down with his tone. "You know I've overlooked the sloppy way you have been serving tonight. You've not used your protocol, you have been reluctant to be obedient and sluggish and I was thinking it was because you were tired and have been through so much tonight. I started to feel sorry for your fat ass having to deal with that crazy Deacon and that is my mistake. I apologize for that Cow Tits." I could tell he was not sorry but making a point. "Get on your motherfucking knees and take my pants down," I was surprised he would want his cock sucked again after he came so much back at the cabana but I did as I was told and quickly too! I was equally surprised when Bill turned around and faced away from me. "Pull those ass cheeks apart and kiss it, bitch." He gave me a look over his shoulder that read 'don't make me tell you twice' and I did as I was told without any thought. I pulled my husband's ass cheeks apart as instructed and stared at his dark, hairy, man-hole. "Let me feel that tongue in between my hairy ass cheeks," He insisted I give him a tongue rimming on his asshole and I did just that. "You never hesitate when it's your daughter's precious shitter, but you haven't learned that your place is on your knees with your mouth open kissing the ass of your betters have you?" I couldn't answer but I nodded agreement as I kissed my husband's asshole for all I was worth. "I want you to really get up in there. I want to feel your long donkey tongue in my butt." I know Bill was being serious and while I couldn't see his face I thought for a second even he couldn't keep a straight face when he said that. I did have a long tongue but I've never heard it called a 'donkey tongue' before. "Can I get in on that Dad?" Chris sounded eager for me to give him the same treatment. "Definitely, I think three times a day both of these sluts should kiss our asses, don't you?" Bill said while I held his ass cheeks apart so I could make out with his asshole. "You know, we could probably make them kiss our asses before we let them shit or milk their fat jugs for us," Chris suggested. "That isn't a bad idea Chris, I like that. You like that Slut?" Bill asked me and I nodded in agreement. What else could I do as I continued connecting my mouth to his ass? "I don't know why I didn't think of this little ritual of obedience sooner. I've been kissing your ass for so long because you brought home the money that it is about time you kissed ours." He was tickled with his new idea. Chris didn't waste any time pulling down his own pants. Unlike my husband's hairy butt my son has a pink, hairless ass like that of a cherubic baby. It looks a lot like his sister only much wider. He told me to spread his meaty thighs and "sniff around". I obeyed and sniffed his warm ass while his father pulled his own pants back up. "Savor that flavor, mother dear" Chris patronized me while he made me sniff at his ass with rapid inhales and giggled at me. "Does it smell like waffles?" he joked. The funny thing is – it kind of did. "It smells good sir, thank you for this" I replied trying to sound submissive and not egg my son on. "Lighten up, and have a taste up my Hershey highway, you've given Ass face enough face rides it should be my turn," he was right – I had licked my daughter's ass many times but always for the amusement of others not her own. I pressed my face into his ass as I held apart his cheeks while kneeling on the cold tile floor of my soon-to-be-sold kitchen. My son promptly tooted a sour fart into my teeth and laughed as he felt my lips part around his asshole to accept his wind. "I farted because I couldn't give a shit," he laughed at my expense while I French kissed his ass for him like a dutiful slut. "You are a true ass muncher," he laughed and wiggled his ass back on my nose while I darted my tongue around the edge of his asshole. "Get it all the way in my asshole right now or you will wish I only farted next," he wasn't joking and I drove my tongue deeply into his anus without question. "I can picture you coming down some cold Sunday morning after this is all over and asking to kiss my waffle-ass for old time sake. What do you say mom? Are you going to miss this?" My son asked casually. He was having almost the same fantasy I was about a goofy time when this is all over and me playfully requesting this treatment for fun. I sometimes wonder about nurture versus nature and how our brains are wired to be on the same wavelength with our relatives whether we realize it or not. I pulled back slightly from my Son's ass and held his cheeks apart with my fingers. My chin was wet from the saliva that now coated his ass as I answered him. "We will be losing the house after this weekend Master, so as delicious an offer as it is to come eat at your trough, I don't know what I will be doing." That was as obedient and playful as I could sound without coming right out and admitting I had a similar fantasy myself about making his pancakes for him while in the buff when he is college age. He forced his ass cheeks closed with sheer willpower around my face and wiggled his ass in my face "I didn't say it had to be here you piggy," he laughed. That was true – he hadn't specified where it would occur. I suppose it was just my own creative imagination filling in the location in the old familiar house that I raised him in. The talk about losing the house only made my stomach sour and my heart beat fast as I stressed over the fact that my entire life would be gone. The 'stuff' I had accumulated anyway. If we didn't pack it up, there was going to be someone here to buy it or the bank would repossess it all and clean it out. I needed to come to terms with accepting that but they say there are five stages of grief – Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and Acceptance. I am positive that at one point or another I had been in all five about the discipline my husband had brought me and my daughter as payback for cuckolding him and Chris. One: Denial — "I feel fine."; "This can't be happening, not to me." Two: Anger — "Why me? It's not fair!"; "How can this happen to me?"; '"Cathy Griffin arranged this, someone else is at fault! I did not bring this on myself!" Three: Bargaining — "I'll do anything if you just let me hang on to my family"; "Okay, I will let you fuck me up the ass with that spatula handle but please not the broom, okay the broom handle but please please not the baseball bat." Four: Depression — "I'm so sad, why bother trying?"; "I am never going to live this down" Five: Acceptance — "It's going to be okay."; "I can't fight it, I may as well prepare for it." I think in Jamie's case there might be a "Second Wind" category where she gets so far down that all she can see is up and actually tries harder than ever before – the eternal optimist. I envy her spirit and there have been times I think I have done that. I think certainly volunteering to keep the discipline in place until we get out of our money worries might have been my attempt at that. Right now though I felt like I might be experiencing a little bit of denial, anger, and depression all at once as I looked at the house with melancholy sadness and realized that there was no going back to our old lives and our old stuff. "You are getting your titty milk on the back of my thighs!" Chris startled me from my thoughts by bumping his ass hard into my face. I was leaking – my tits were sore and full and needed release and I hadn't even noticed they were dripping on my son. "Let me lick that off Master," I purred and that response seemed to please my son. "We have to be hard on you today Bitch because not only are you our whore and you need that discipline to keep focused but I can see how you get this dreamy look on your face when you think about all the times you went shopping at Bed, Bath and Beyond or Pier One to buy all these wicker baskets and knick knack bullshit that we have strewn around here." Bill kicked a small wicker basket that held old newspapers near the kitchen table for effect. "Yes Master" I agreed after I finished licking my milk off the back of my son's thighs. "I understand you are going to be harsh with me today, like everyday" the days had kept getting harder and harder like the cocks I continuously sucked. I made a mental note that may be a funny pun to use with Chris some time. "No," he banged his fist on the table in anger. "You don't get it slut. Today, you are going to entertain and encourage people to buy your old stuff. I know this shit means something to you. Hell, some of it means something to me." I could see him scanning some family pictures on the wall from happier times. "You are going to have to be grateful and kiss the customers asses and not make them feel guilty about making you part with all this fragernackle bullshit in the house. You have to kiss this shit goodbye like you kiss our asses because we can't afford to store it and we need the cash - Do you comprehend?" "Yes Master, I do," I was internalizing what he had just said and felt that if I had made it through the county fair and the flea market as well as whoring on Martin Luther King Jr. boulevard then I was going to be able to do this. I was grateful though that he was making it a point to remind me that it may be difficult to sell old baby rattles and photo albums or furniture that I had grown accustomed too. Bill was about to tell me that he had another chore for me – going door to door to the neighbors to drop off some gifts and invite them to purchase some of our stuff. "You can apologize for being such a disgusting pig and thoughtless neighbor and then invite them to our going away sale." I knew that would probably involve a skimpy outfit and a lot of awkward backpedalling with women from the neighborhood I've known for years – but most already heard the rumors about us anyway. I was surprisingly calm about the scornful looks of derision I was going to receive from my female neighbors and a few chuckles from their husbands and sons. "You've been a pretty good little bitch so far, here you can have a swallow of pancake," my son was about to hand feed me a scrap from his plate as he added "I can't wait to see you become a doggy fucker." I turned to open my mouth to accept the food but my hand slipped and I fell on my chest. As I did, I slapped the food out of his hand to try to grab myself and stay upright and the pancake landed on my son's ass cheek –syrup and all. I knew I was in deep doo-doo and I laid flat on my chest on the tile for a moment while the realization I was about to be severely punished quietly washed over me. My son let me get back up and apologize to him without saying a word. "Oh Sorry, I am sorry, sorry, so, so sorry, that was clumsy of me, please let me eat that pancake off your thigh? I am such an oaf." "I thought ass face was the twinkle toes," Chris was lording over me my impending punishment and just grinning as he looked over his shoulder at me while I groveled. A moment later he snapped "Cow Tits, face down on your knees". I did not hesitate to obey. "Spread that ass wide for your punishment," Chris's voice was deceptively calm. When he was joking around then I knew I could handle whatever he dished out. It was when he was calm that I feared his punishments. He wasn't even going over how I fucked up and what the corrective action was going to teach me – he was just giving orders. My mind raced as I wondered what he was going to do to me for knocking the food out of his hand. The seconds seemed to crawl by as I heard movement but neither of the Taylor men acknowledged me in any way. It felt like a full five minutes went by when I suddenly felt something being shoved into my ass. I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out. It was something I had never felt in my ass before, which given the number of things that had been shoved in my ass in the recent past was saying something! My confusion grew as I felt a sticky liquid gushing into my ass. I groaned as it competed for space with what was already inside since they had already made me pack my ass with bacon. Finally, it seemed to stop. The item was removed and then dropped onto the floor next to my head. My eyes bugged at seeing the empty syrup bottle. Chris was grinning as he showed me he had pumped the entire contents of the plastic bottle of Mrs. Butterworth up my rump. "I am sure Mrs. Waxerman would love to see you with a molasses enema," he laughed. "Actually she is going to come over and you are to be on EXTREME white alert with all our guests most especially her. You are to thank her for giving your son the idea for a molasses enema, do you got that?" Bill had said nothing while his son administered my punishment until now. "Yes Master," I wasn't sure what he meant by extreme white alert but I knew I would soon find out. "Bacon, syrup, how about some pancakes for breakfast?" Chris pointed to the pancakes on the floor that had dropped off his thighs. I got on all fours for him and began to bend down to eat them. He kicked me in my face! "What are you doing slut?" Chris insisted. "I was going to eat the scraps you offered on my hands and knees, Master?" I looked up at him with puppy dog eyes – at least what I think are my puppy dog eyes. "Have these pancakes been up your ass?" Chris reminded me of the new rule. "No master, they have not." I expressed in my tone I already knew where he was going with it. "Have these pancakes been in that wet, bald beaver between your legs?" he asked and once again I agreed they had not. "Then why on God's green earth do you think that they belong in that cum hole you call a mouth yet?" he sounded so much older than he was when he talked like that and put his hands on his hips. I could picture him with a toddler of his own, my grandson, disciplining him for leaving out his toys like he was talking to me... "I don't know Master, I am just stupid I guess and have not yet learned all the rules?" I was being truthful there. "You guess? Or you are sure you are stupid?" Chris had no time for guesses and I knew I was just over tired from all the discipline and stressed out over losing the house. He had asked Jamie that question many times when she said she guessed the first few days of the training before he broke her of that. "I am sure I am a stupid cunt, sir. May I please put the pancakes into my ass?" I knew they would end up there anyway. "No, you can dip them into your ass to get a little syrup, then they are going in to your twat." He commanded. I was past worrying about a UTI if I got too much sugar in my pussy – I had a lot worse put inside me. I did as I was ordered and dunked the pancake bits into my asshole until I could feel a little of the sticky syrup ooze on to it and put it into my cunt for hm. "Now that you have your breakfast packed away – are you going to be a dumb little bitch and stumble-bumble around here knocking the food I graciously gave you on the floor and your patient owner?" Chris asked me in a tone that actually sounded considerate – but there was a sadistic edge to his tone. "I am probably going to be a dumb little bitch sir, but I will do my best to try not to make a mess, Sir" I answered while looking directly into my son's mirthful eyes. He loved how vulnerable and helpless I was in accepting his humiliations. "You do know and accept I have to punish you for making a mess and spilling food on your better, don't you?" Chris knew I did but I am sure he wanted me to say it out loud– part of the affirmation process. "Yes Master, I know and accept your wisdom and judgment in teaching a dumb little bitch like me to behave and watch what she is doing with more care Sir. I know you have to punish me and I thank you for the attention to my discipline that you are showing." It still made me feel wrong on some level to ask my son for discipline even though I had for various reasons over the last few weeks asked him. In the beginning it was because he expected me to talk that way during affirmations and I was simply telling him what he wanted to hear. I think over time the line became blurred as to why I was agreeing to this but now that we are whores I think I really believe he should punish me and I need to suck it up for what I did- what is going on in my head? I would love to blame it on the birth control and lactation pills they had fed us. Some sort of magical mind control pills that made us behave like extreme white alert sluts – young, dumb and full of cum. I think though there was a much more practical answer for why the affirmations had begun to really assert themselves on my personality and why I found myself fully expecting and accepting of my son's inevitable punishment for this accident. Like my daughter and most women I have one of those personalities that craves approval and saying these things out loud have begun to validate what I am being judged on – change my entire paradigm around of what I feel my purpose is. I shudder to even think about what happens to my value system when it all stops. "I liked when we had the fish bowl full of punishments and I could just make the sluts draw a card at random," Chris sighed. "Already packed up, we are selling the fish bowl along with all this other unnecessary bullshit," Bill said somberly in no uncertain terms. "I think a punishment that would instill the values she is trying to learn about watching what she is doing that fits the crime is in order. I will let you choose because I want you to be a participant in your education," Chris had heard an administrator once hand out assignments and use that term. He let the kids choose different approaches because he didn't want to just assign them 'homework' – Chris had taken from that lesson how odious it was to choose which poison you wanted to swallow instead of being thankful for the freedom he was being given. I can see why once he gave me the choices. "Firstly and this is non-negotiable," Chris stipulated that I would normally get about eight ounces of fresh water from now on per day. "You are on a new diet, anything that can come out of you or us can go back in you and be recycled," he explained. I already did not like where this was going. "You always wanted us to go green like the neighbors, well now you are going yellow, white and brown" Bill chuckled to himself at the disgusting idea while Chris laid out my punishment. "Today however, you will only drink cum, piss, spit or backwash and you will be thankful for it. Tomorrow when you get your eight ounces of fresh water it will seem so much more precious won't it?" Chris asked expecting an answer – what choice did I have but to obediently answer? I think my mouth was hanging open in shock that this was the new rule. I had drank piss and drank cum but the idea that, that was all I was getting made my stomach do a backflip. "Yes sir, it would" I admitted quietly. "After a full day of being a pissy missy and knowing if I handed you a pure, clean glass of fresh water that was all you were going to get – you would take extra care not to spill it right?" I agreed with my son's logic and he continued on to the choices. "This is where it gets interesting – I want you to think about this and how it will best amuse us and teach you a lesson at the same time," I wondered if Chris was thinking this up as he went or he just had a hundred and one ways to humiliate a woman stored in that big noggin of his. "You will be standing on the kitchen table with the curtains open until 9am. It is almost 5 am now so that is not too long. If anything drops out of your ass or twat you will have just enough rope to squat down and pick it up with your mouth where you will hold it until we come to untie you. This will teach you not to spill because if you've left nothing on the table then you will be a good girl and forgiven for your transgressions. If you fail you will spend the day there when you are not being used for other purposes." I shuddered at the mental image of being seen through my own window naked and tied up by some morning jogger passing by. I knew he was pausing to let that image sink into my head. "The other choice is that I will take a red sharpie and write 'I heart my dog' on your back in big letters," he smiled and said nothing further. These two punishments were clearly uneven in scope and size and I raised my eyebrow wondering if there was more. Was there some landmine here that I did not know about? I knew it was related to the fact I was going to have sex with Roscoe before all was said and done today – but could it be just that easy to get my son's forgiveness and be punished? "Is there anything else to that one Sir?" I asked shyly. "Why? Would you like there to be?" Chris grinned at me and winked. It occurred to me that he had said I had to pick a punishment that not only fit the crime, teach me a lesson and amuse them. That if I wanted his favor I would need to pick the more difficult of the two punishments most likely. "I choose the first punishment Master," I took a deep breath and exhaled after I answered. "Really? The second punishment is much easier, are you quite certain you want us to tie you up on the kitchen table and leave the curtains wide open?" Chris was having fun asking me to confirm my choice and I could see a smile cross his face. "Yes Sir, I don't think the second punishment would teach me the error of my ways or amuse you as much and my goal in being punished is to learn from my mistakes," I could see from the look in his eyes he was impressed I had figured out his puzzle. From the look of Bill he either didn't care about the puzzle and just wanted to sleep or he had no idea what point Chris had just made. "Do you mind doing me a favor Master?" I pressed my luck by speaking out of turn. "Oh a favor? You know I love to do favors for my favorite pet bitch, what is it Cow tits?" Chris asked with a puzzled but intrigued looked. "You have my attention," he grinned. "Do you mind also doing the second punishment?" I wasn't sure exactly what the second punishment was supposed to teach me about spilling anything and it may have just been a red herring to get me into deeper doo-doo if I had picked it to get an easy free pass. However, I figured since I was going to get punished anyway I may as well go in for both. Given all the things he could write on me – that was certainly pretty tame. "Impressive," Chris spoke in the deep baritone of a mock Darth Vader. "I sense much sluttiness in this one," he told me to get the marker and I went right to the drawer in the kitchen they were in on my hands and knees. I found that as I crawled, a little bit of the syrup up my ass would drip down my ass cheeks and I was probably going to be in for a tough morning. Chris eagerly began to write on my back and I realized that I actually could not see what he was writing. I would have to take him on his word it wasn't much worse. He chuckled as he wrote on my body and gave me a playful tickle to my thigh as he wrote in big bold letters on the small of my bare back where the 'tramp stamp' is supposed to go. I knew it was to help coax a little of the syrup out of my ass more than it was to express his pleasure at my picking a proper punishment over an easy one. "I suppose you fucked off most of the writing you had on you from yesterday," Chris put the pen tip in his mouth thoughtfully. "You probably want me to re-apply some of that to you to freshen them up and keep it clear in your mind don't you?" "If you wish Sir, my body is yours to play with or write on while you own me," I gritted my teeth knowing I would have to accept it whether I said no or not. "What did I write on your tits yesterday after you fucked all those Mexicans?" Chris pretended he had forgotten so he could make me repeat it. He was known to be forgetful but that was just an act – I've learned he is much smarter since he became the boss of me and Jamie but he smiled as he asked in a playful way. "I believe it was world's greatest mom, don't touch these titties Sir?" I smiled as I looked over my shoulder. He smirked and chuckled but poked me hard in the ass to let me know that was not the right answer. "That doesn't sound like something that would teach you to behave, would you like to phone a friend or use a life line?" he joked. I knew I could not push my luck with a second funny guess so I told the truth. "I believe you wrote Urinal on my chest Sir," it felt awkward just to say that out loud and hear it in my own voice – truly what the affirmations were all about. "Stand up and face me then, and keep your hands on your ass cheeks for now so you can hold it in" Chris gave me an order and I obeyed as expected. "You are my urinal aren't you?" Chris asked me while looking into my eyes – it was hard to look back but I did. "Yes master, I am your urinal, I drink your piss" I answered him plainly in the protocol tone of the affirmations. "You drink anybody's piss we tell you to don't you?" Chris clarified. "Yes sir, anyone's piss," I swallowed thinking about that fate. I had signed up to be a whore and earn money for the house not be a piss slut – but I knew that he felt the degradation made me a better whore and I hate to admit that I agree. "Since you already know you are a urinal and will admit it, I think I will put For Sale on your chest. You are for sale aren't you?" he had already begun writing. "Actually, for rent Master" I smirked back at him as I allowed him to pull my chest apart and write on my breast bone. "Dad, you would sell this bitch wouldn't you?" Chris joked at his dad who was holding his head in his hands and thinking about bed. "Absolutely not," I started to smile that he was being so sweet when he added "who would buy a big turd like her? They would return her after she spilled all their food, ran up all their bills and failed to bring home enough cash to support her need for whips and duct tape. You going to tie this cunt up so we can get some sleep or no?" "The For Sale sign is actually an invitation for people to come on in and shop. If anyone comes to the window, tell them we will let people in around noon." He insisted I be the one to spread the curtain wide open in our breakfast nook. The sun had yet to come up and it was still dark outside but there would come a time when it rose and people would be jogging and preparing for work. "You sure no one will call the law on me for indecent exposure Sir?" I was half joking as he made me climb a kitchen chair to stand on the kitchen table. It wobbled with my weight under it and I felt scared I might fall off. "Don't worry, you won't fall off. I'll make sure you are good and tied up to the chandelier. Dad and I installed some extra fittings before we knew the house was getting foreclosed," he sounded wistful as he said the last part. He stood on a chair and tied a rope around my stomach several times to bind my hands straight down my side while hoisting me to the reinforced rings where the light fixture was. "If cops come, just tell them the sale doesn't start until noon," Chris purposely rigged the rope between my legs so that there was enough play for me to squat on the table but not to get all the way off it while he joked about how to handle the cops. "Look, after we paid off the cops to kick Deacon Dan's ass they should leave us the fuck alone, "Bill said somberly. They paid them off to beat up Deacon Dan? I was secretly overjoyed and wanted details – who did it, where and how? I got none of those things. "Those are city cops who work the poor side of town. The cops of Cherry Lawn Estates are used to chasing down stolen golf carts and missing iPhones. If a cop comes just tell them you didn't know you couldn't do this and you thought it was totally normal and we'll let you down early, deal?" Chris didn't wait for me to answer. He and his father were already walking out of the kitchen to leave me in the window completely naked with only a dog collar and my body writing with an ass full of food and aching sore milky tits. "Oh I don't want you to fall asleep" Chris clicked on the stereo in the front room. "We won't have this after today, so go ahead and dance in the window," he instructed yelling from the living room. Bands a make her dance, bands a make her dance All these chicks popping pussies, I'm just popping bands Bands a make her dance, bands a make her dance These chicks clappin' and they ain't using hands Short hair like Nia Long, loose one she don't need a loan She start twerking when she hear a song, the stripper pole her income We get trippy and then some, so nasty when she rolling She put that ass off in my hands, I remote control it She give me dome when the roof gone, at the K.O.D. she leaves with me She got friends bring three, I got drugs I got drinks Bend it over, Juicy J, gone poke it like wet paint You say no to ratchet pussy, juicy j can't Racks everywhere, they're showing racks I'm throwing racks In the VIP rubber on I'm stretching that Rich niggas tipping, broke niggas looking And it ain't a strip club if they ain't showing pussy. The rap song was catchy – I danced like I was told as I stared out the window and prayed I could hold my ass cheeks clenched tightly until 9 A.M. while Bill and Chris caught up on their sleep. ------- Chapter 43: Wendy's Journal: If I am the author of my own life it is time to end this chapter and start killing off some charact ****Note to reader: This is an excerpt of Wendy's journal from Thursday early morning from her perspective. The events take place after 5am while she is standing on her kitchen table. In order to increase readability, some of the dialogue exchanged was altered to appear in a 'narrative' story format. CASH EARNINGS THURSDAY WENDY: $0 WEIGHTS: 0 JAMIE: $50 WEIGHTS: 0 If someone had predicted I would be willingly standing naked on my kitchen table with the curtains wide open six weeks ago I would have laughed right in their face. I was not only standing there but I was also dancing naked. I was actually rocking my hips back and forth every now and then to the beat of the music on the stereo. I was doing it to keep awake and to comply with the order in case Chris or Bill came downstairs and were spying on me not for the benefit of any hapless jogger who happened to stumble by this early in the morning. The guys had left the stereo up loud enough so I could hear it to dance but not loud enough it would stop them from sleeping in their own cozy beds upstairs. I had nothing but time – time to reflect on how completely crazy my life had become and on all the disgusting things I had done the night before and will continue to do. I could also reflect on my son's ingenious rope handiwork. He and his father must have installed reinforced hooks in the kitchen ceiling at some point with the intention of suspending us with them. He had run a thin cord around my torso and tied my arms flat to my sides and then ran it through the holes in my clit and nipple rings before running it through the hooks in the ceiling. There was just enough play in the rope that I could squat down to the table's surface and get my face to the table if I first bent at the knees and kneeled before going prone. I know this because I had already dropped a little of the pancake my son had made me force into my pussy before he went upstairs to sleep in his nice, warm bed. The two of them had walked out of the kitchen and flipped off the light without a concern or a care – or as much as a look over their shoulder at me dancing naked in the window. Their rooms on the second floor were far enough away from the music that even that would not bother them – they are both heavy sleepers so that wouldn't have been a problem for them anyway. The bright side was that they forgot to leave the light on in the kitchen. The curtains may have been pulled open wide but as our house was far enough back from the street that with the light off it was difficult to see in our house. A person would have to know to look in to see me. The bigger problem for me was the chance I might fall asleep while I was on the kitchen table. If I did the rope would not have held me – I would have hit the kitchen table. It was also flimsy and wobbly – not intended for the weight of a full grown woman – Jamie would have had a much easier time of it on this table. I made mental notes about how I would write my journal when I finally got a chance to tap at my cell phone. I sang along with the rap songs. I scanned the desperate darkened street we lived on for signs of early morning joggers and dog walkers – I knew it was only a matter of time before I was spotted and it was the anticipation that was making it all the worse. If someone had just gone ahead and seen me and screamed it would be over and I could stop breathing heavy and my heart could stop pounding. As it was – I was thankful for the heightened adrenalin that comes from the abject terror I was facing because it was helping me stay awake. I had plenty of time to think about Jamie too. I could see the morning dew rolling in and the fog hover over the grass of our lawn. I knew Jamie was tied up outside at the motel and out in that wet, damp night air and I worried about her. I must have also pictured Deacon Dan and his crew of psychotic homeless bums getting paid a visit by Officer Mark and the police department at my husband's request at least a dozen times. In my fantasies, they not only got an ass beating but Deacon Dan had to jog naked on a treadmill in my kitchen window to keep just seconds ahead of some automated lawn shears that were aimed right at his nuts. I could take some solace that we left the streets a better place tonight. We had eliminated a dangerous scum bag who was probably hurting prostitutes out on the streets for weeks before we showed up. I had also obviously given pleasure to some men who were consenting adults with the cash to pay for my services which provided food and shelter to my family. That was the job of any whore in the world's oldest profession and I am sure everyone's family tree had at least one prostitute in it at some point. All in all that was a fair trade and all it cost me was my self-respect, dignity and a little skin. I had to laugh that the worst punishments of all usually seemed to be ones like these where I spend all this time to stew and think, alone with my thoughts. Even weeks after this began I still dread the long periods of alone time in my subjugation. I would worry, fret, think and over analyze my situation for the next few hours all the while my eyes were scanning the sidewalk for the first signs of someone seeing me moving in the shadows of my kitchen. The first person to come walking down the sidewalk happened by at about 6:45 a.m. It was Mrs. Waxerman and her dog Mr. Snips. I hadn't seen that crazy old bat in what felt like weeks – I smiled and kept dancing since this would not be a shock to her at all. She was naturally walking with her head cocked to look into everyone's windows so there was no chance she would not spot me. I could not tell if she saw that I had ropes tied around me so that I could not move my arms but she stopped in front of my house and moved side to side looking in the way a Raptor does in Jurassic Park as it considers whether it can eat the humans hiding in that over turned jeep. Her eyes narrowed into slits and then she shook her fist at me. I could just make out "That devilish rap music will wake everyone up!" I had to grin and dance a little more – was she really upset about the loud music? Had she become so used to seeing me naked that she didn't see that as shocking anymore? Or had she just not been able to see me very well in the dark kitchen because the sun had yet to rise and it was still dark outside? I would have waved good-bye to her as she walked away with a broad grin on my face but as it stands, all I could do was turn and do my half-step hip-swivel dance as she eventually walked away grumbling to herself. I am sure she was reciting bible verse and cantankerous old mountain sayings. I should also mention that my stomach was growling from lack of food and my tits were sore and aching. I wanted relief so badly –anything to pull them and drain my engorged breasts. I would even pull down a little on the weight of the rope to add tension to it and stimulate my nipples slightly to try to give myself a little bit of relief. I would have done a little more but I kept thinking my weight would cause the entire kitchen table to collapse. I know all women are self-conscious about their weight or they are just liars. I am sure that even delicately framed, Jamie with her petit figure and perfect little body thinks she is a fat ass at times. I know I am a 'MILF' by Chris's friends' standards because I've heard them call me that enough. Despite all that positive feedback I still visualize myself to be this cantankerous plodding donkey with these enormously swollen watermelons on my chest. It would be another thirty minutes before the first jogger appeared on the sidewalk. He checked his watch as he ran and didn't notice me. The crack of dawn was like God's starting pistol for joggers and it was not long before the first jogger was replaced by a second and a third and a fourth. On Martin Luther King Junior Boulevard if someone is running – especially at this time of the morning it is because they are trying to get away from somebody else. They would have a lot easier time comprehending the idea of me naked in a window, hung out by my pimp as a lesson than they would of someone who got up out of their bed and chose to go run outside. The cultural differences are astounding, because having lived in Cherry Lawn for so long I never stopped to think about how crazy it must seem for affluent people to put on jogging suits and run in the morning every single day. I had stopped really trying to dance in place. I would jiggle and bounce with a half-hearted knee bend more to keep myself awake than to appease Chris or Bill if they happened to wake up and check on me. The music was loud enough that I thought someone would look in the window of our house but the joggers and dog walkers stuck to their routine and aside from a nosy one like Mrs. Waxerman they paid no attention to me. I smiled that I was getting away with it. I had probably not been on the table for more than 20 minutes or so but I could see myself getting through this ordeal relatively unscathed. That is when the first bit started to release out of my ass. I could feel my asshole start to open and I tried my hardest to tighten my cheeks and stop it but when it happened it happened fast. The molasses like syrup had congealed and hardened and now my asshole was spasming along with a muscle on the inside of my body that wanted it out and it wanted out now! I looked down and realized I could not stop myself from urinating all over the table either as a full release out of both holes began. I bit my lip and began to feel nauseous as I smelled the crap I just shit all over the table. I crouched low on the table to control the splatter and then when it had all stopped – a tiny little jet of pee splashed over it. This was not what Chris had in mind when he put me on the table. I am sure in his mind the molasses like syrup probably would have helped keep my ass shut and he thought I would just drop a little bit of bacon or pancake – at least that is what I thought would happen when I agreed to this. I could feel my slimy ass-goo all over my feet and while most of it was the pancake, syrup and bacon there was also shit mixed into it. I sniffed the air and thought for a few moments, wishing I could wipe my wet asshole or at least itch it. Then I thought for a few more minutes wishing I could stop thinking about wiping my wet asshole or at least scratch the itch in it. I began to whisper 'Oh my Gawd, Oh my Gawd! What am I gonna do now?' a move of desperation that does absolutely nothing to fix the problem. There was no way I could hold all of that back-asswash that coated the table in my mouth even if I didn't wretch trying to hold just some of the crumbled flapjacks and syrup. I continued squatting on the table for a long minute as I gathered my wits with my arms bound to my thighs. I wanted desperately to put my fingers on the bridge of my nose and have a good cry of desperation. I took myself all the way through the five stages of grief that I keep talking about. I told myself something like this in pretty much this order. One: Denial — "I did not just shit and piss all over my kitchen table!" Two: Anger — "Why is this happening to me? What did I do to deserve it? How could they have left me this way and not realize what was going to happen?" Three: Bargaining — "I'll just put some of it in my mouth and dance around on the table, they can't be mad if I filled my mouth with a little of it. They cannot be right?" Four: Depression — "I'm never going to clean up this mess or live it down, they are going to punish me so severely I should just get off the table and wait for the inevitable beat down they are going to give me. There is no way I can fix this." Five: Acceptance — Ah acceptance, I knew eventually I would meet you my old friend. The end state of every argument and every change in our lives has to be acceptance at some point. This is what happened and now it is time to accept it and move forward. However, I had no internal monologue or thought process for acceptance. This muck just slid out of my ass and on the table and now I had to deal with it – what would I do? What could I do? I put my options on the table. I could; A) Squat there like a ninny waving her hands in her front of her face and await and accept my inevitable severe punishment for not completing this punishment. B) Flee to Mexico – okay that one was just sort of a funny one that I had to put in the list. C) Take a big bite out of the mess that came out of my ass including the wad of bacon I saw and keep dancing and await my inevitable not as severe but severe punishment for leaving a mess on the table. D) Try to clean up the mess. Item D "you have my attention and now you have my curiosity" as Chris would say. There are a couple of ways I could go about D. I could try to get off this table somehow and probably break the rope and the hooks from the wall or pull my tits off in trying. Then I could get to a washcloth and get this all cleaned up and even put a little bit in my mouth for a good show when they got up. Jamie would have my head for even thinking of such a deceptive escapade because she is such a goody-goody that she has to follow rules. In all honesty, I can totally relate to that attitude and even though I am a little older and wiser I still feel guilty about when I've bent the rules or broken them. I even break them in my journal by saying pussy instead of cunt and I sometimes feel just a little guilty when I re-read what I wrote. The only other way to clean up this mess short of a miracle would be to get down on my hands and knees on the table and suck it up – eat it. Chris called me a urinal tonight – but am I a human vacuum cleaner and a toilet? A garbage disposal? Could I do it without gagging? Oh Acceptance – you are fifth on the list of emotions that one has to go through and while the others are short term pain and stress I have to say that you can be the worst one of all because you are the one that requires we make a decision and do something we may find really unpleasant to move on. In Denial, Bargaining, Anger and Depression all one must do is emote and think about the problem. The step where you have to take some sort of action is the acceptance one and I could dance around it but one of the items on the list seemed like the only one that would please Bill and Chris enough that I may get out of this punishment without a follow up punishment for how bad I fucked up the current punishment I was doing. I put my hands on the table and felt a squicky feeling as my palms held me above my own waste and pancakes. I bent down to put my nose right up to some pancake and sniffed. I waited to recoil in horror as I expected a raw sewage smell to wash over me. It was really not that bad and so I licked it and then nibbled the dirty pancake bits. I found myself chewing before I knew it. It took a good long while before I swallowed. I remained on all fours trying to first cherry pick the large pieces of food that were stuck in the dirty brine of molasses like syrup and let's face it – my own shit and piss. I could not tell in the darkness what was actually a turd and what was just a lump of pancake but a little light was starting to come through the kitchen window as the sun rose and I found myself eating faster. It was actually easier not knowing what I was eating and so when I could feel the sun on my back I turned away from the window and faced my ass to the street. Then I kept my eyes shut tightly and began to slowly eat an inch or two of muck off the table at a time. The guys had made us clean the floor with our tongues before and we did a fair job but that was just licking the pretty much clean tile. They made us do every square inch and by the end our tongues were tired, sore and dry. This was far, far worse but I was powering through it. When I finally opened my eyes I was still chewing on the awful disgusting sugary syrup and pancake mess and I had it all over my face. I was sad to see I had only eaten a tiny fraction of the mess on the table and I would probably have to spend the next four hours cleaning it if I were going to finish it. I wondered for a few moments though if the guys would appreciate seeing how large my mess was before I began. Then I realized I had no way to get to my cell phone from the kitchen table to take a picture of it. Even though I had managed to get to all fours I was already straining the cord tethering me in place and it was chafing as it tightened around my clit and through my legs every time I moved slightly. I felt like a marionette puppet whose strings allowed her just enough room to take a bow on stage. A puppet whose ass was spread and pointed at the audience. I tried not to think about the possibility that someone could see me. If coming of age movies have taught me anything it is that when a sexy older woman is naked in a window the young neighbor boy is always watching but he never acts upon what he sees. I imagined some young Matthew Broderick type was watching from a nearby house with a confused look on his eager young face. Then I realized how old I am because Matthew Broderick is about forty years old now so that fictional peeping tom of mine would have no idea who he looks like. I kept licking and powered through the disgusting sour taste of my own urine that coated some of the pancakes. I resisted the urge to stop and look behind myself out the window again. If there were any looky-loos standing right behind me it would be better that I didn't know as I would not have been able to stop – not now. I had begun this process of cleaning the table by eating and licking it clean and I would finish it or be caught by one of the guys before I finished. "Hey, watcha doin?" I froze as I heard Chris's smirking voice from across the kitchen and the flick of the light switch. I looked up at him like a cat with canary feathers in her mouth standing under the empty bird cage. "I am not going to ask you a second time," Chris folded his arms and stared at me. "I am cleaning up my mess, Sir?" my tone suggesting I was asking him if that was what I was allowed to do. Chris chuckled and stretched the morning yawn of someone who was completely at ease. "I realized I forgot to leave the kitchen light on and since we are defaulting on the power bill I realized it might help to give any passers by a thrill if they could actually see you – also donuts," Chris passed to the fridge and took out several donuts and took a bite out of one. "Nom, nom, nom, these are good, want one?" Chris didn't allow me to finish and I was too stunned by his reaction to say anything immediately. "I see you already have breakfast," he winked and gave me a carry-on sort of expression as he sauntered back to bed. I looked back down at my mess – it was much worse seeing it with the kitchen lights turned on. Chris popped his head back in the kitchen door. "Oh I almost forgot, if I or Dad catch you kneeling or laying on the kitchen table like that again, even if you are cleaning up your mess, you are going to spend most of your day here and we will tighten the ropes on you. As I am in a forgiving mood though, turn to face me," he said. I did as I was told and faced him. "Oops, I am sorry. I didn't want to see your ugly face," he took a bite out of one of his donuts in his hands. "Turn around and face that big, brown turd-hole towards me," he directed me to spin around in a circle and I did as I was told as well – getting my hands and knees coated in goopy syrup as I did. He put his finger into my asshole and wriggled it around. There was a pop as he pulled it out and licked it clean. "Delicious and empty," he smirked. He began to stuff one of his donuts back into my asshole and I could tell he left a good portion of it out. "If this isn't here waiting for me when I get back up at 9 A.M.," he clarified "9 A.Mish, then I will assume your fat ass ate it or dropped it and I will let Dad know that I caught you down here hiding on the table so people couldn't see you. He probably won't be pleased." Chris didn't wait for my reaction he just turned and started to walk back to his bed. He stopped once more before leaving the kitchen "Oh and Mom," he smiled "I love you," he laughed as he shut the door I could not tell if he meant it or was being sarcastic. Once again I was alone with my mess but now I had more of it on my hands and knees and face and a donut sticking out of my ass. I was also facing the window and so I could not help but look out into the cool morning air. It was light outside now but that sort of dusky gray fog had rolled in. If I lived on a busy New York street in a street facing apartment I would have been seen a hundred times by now. As it stood here in suburbia, the early morning jogger rush had subsided and now it was just the occasional Thursday morning dog walker. I don't want to paint a picture that hundreds of people walked past like when I was at the County Fair dancing with my daughter in body paint as Spongeboob. This was more an occasional trickle and the ones who seemed to notice me in the window either smiled and walked a little faster with a confused look on their face or stopped and stared for a moment and then walked on. I expected someone to scream or at the very least come to the window and ask if I needed help but of the four or five people that went by I got off pretty lucky and they pretty much ignored me even though some stopped to stare for a few moments. I spent the next hour thinking about how 'lucky' I was while I ate my own poopy-food and lapped it up with just my face. My tits had fallen into the muck on the table because of how difficult it was to hold myself up over the mess without use of my arms to balance. This only reminded me of how achy and sore they were because I was way past due for my milking. I thought of at least a dozen ways I was going to beg the guys to let me milk myself when I saw them next. I also thought about a dozen other things while I was cleaning my mess from the table with my mouth. I thought about poor Jamie and wondered where she was. I thought about Mrs. Waxerman and what she thought about me in the window this morning – she probably assumed I was a depraved lunatic who loved to flash people. I thought about Sunday afternoons after this was all over and whether or not I'd save my dog collar and wear it when we get together for dinner when the kids have their own families – I pictured winking at them and not letting on to my grandkids why I've got it on. I would like to say I thought about a lot of things but the one I kept pushing out of my mind was how uncomfortable and sick consuming my own mess was making me. The other was the anticipation surrounding sex with Roscoe. I wondered if I needed to just skip past the doubts and get straight to the acceptance that this was going to happen. It seemed so over the top and so insane that it actually made being naked and tied up on my kitchen table while I lapped up my own waste seem pretty normal by comparison. It was probably close to 8 a.m. when I heard a wrapping on the plate glass of the kitchen window behind me. I was running out of steam to gobble up all the disgusting goo and getting to the point I felt I wasn't going to finish before the guys got downstairs. A thousand people ran through my mind as to who it might be before I turned around. I wanted to finish this disgusting meal of shame in private and uninterrupted. I felt if I stood in the window I could at least prevent whoever it was from seeing what I was doing. It was a neighbor I had met before a few times who lived near Mrs. Waxerman. He was a distinguished college professor type with a rustic quality to him like he had grown up on a farm like me. "Mr. Hooker?" I said through the glass window as I turned around to face him. "It is Doctor actually," he smiled as he corrected me politely. I had no problem hearing him through the thin plate glass window – and he had no problem seeing me through it either. "I was just out for a morning stroll when I noticed you in the window and wondered if you needed any help?" he puffed on a pipe but no smoke came out. "This? I am trying to give up the habit but I can't seem to keep the thing out of my mouth, phallic I suppose" he chuckled. "I know this looks crazy sir," I started to explain through the kitchen glass. I was bound up so that I could not move my arms but my breasts were hanging out and I could see him staring directly at them as I spoke. "Not at all, your daughter mowed my grass recently and so I have some idea this is related to her own education?" he spoke to my breasts not my face. I could see now why he wasn't shocked if he had met Jamie. "Yes, it kind of is related to that, I do appreciate your understanding and apologize for the scene I am making in the window, Sir" I replied nervously. Given his eyes never left my tits I thought about making a goofy face just to see if he would notice but I decided better of it. "It has been a week since I enjoyed her services mowing my lawn, is your daughter still in the lawn mowing business?" he asked politely and I had to almost chuckle about the thought of telling him the business we were now in. "Actually we are moving out this weekend and our lawn mower is for sale, it starts at noon. Everything must go, Sir" I answered him truthfully. "That is a pity. I will miss the two of you around the neighborhood. While I believe there are some interesting characters around Cherry Lawn Estates - I must say that you two I find the most interesting. Can I ask which window Jamie is in so that I might uh, say my goodbyes?" "She isn't here Sir," I answered him truthfully noticing he was still watching the pendulous way that my tits swung under me. I didn't want to tell him what she and I had been doing – I wanted to spare her just a little bit of humiliation – the doctor had such a kind face that I thought he would be disappointed to hear it anyway. "Is my presence uncomfortable or keeping you from something my dear?" the doctor had a reassuring quality about him. He regarded me as if I were hanging clothes out on a line or doing the most normal of things but there was a quality about his smile that he knew it clearly was not normal and he liked it. "No, not at all sir. I am supposed to be here in the window," I wasn't sure how I was supposed to respond and while I knew I was supposed to do 'white alert' I felt he would see right through any made up stories I told him – so I stuck with just the truth. I was nervous being naked in the window of course but I felt it was his right to stand there and look if I was going to stand there and show him. "Can I ask why you are supposed to be there in the window?" he chuckled. "You could but I am afraid you may not have enough time for the whole answer or believe it," I smiled. "Madame, I love stories. In fact, stories are sort of a passion of mine. I live next to Mrs. Waxerman and I see her regularly flog her kids in the backyard after giving them an enema. The Millers are swingers and the husband likes to watch his wife have sex with strange men. Don't even get me started about the Griffins and that is just within a two block radius. You hardly have a monopoly on strange and unusual and given where you are kneeling and how you are presented I have every reason to consider the story you tell me is most likely true. I take it from the fact you are not screaming for help and were calmly licking the table when I walked up that this is a consensual arrangement and so I've no reason to be concerned do I?" "You are right it is consensual sir. My husband and son are punishing me and I agreed to remain in the window until 9 a.m" I admitted. "It hardly seems a punishment if you are able to kneel on the table so low to the ground. I almost did not see you there when I was walking past – not that I make it a point to stare into my neighbor's kitchen windows mind you." He said with a wise look on his face. "I am actually supposed to be dancing in the window, Sir". I admitted sheepishly. "That would explain the throbbing bass music that seems so inappropriate at this ordinarily peaceful time of the morning. Don't worry Mrs. Taylor your deception will remain safe with me. I won't say a word to your husband and son about you lying down on the job so to speak," he smiled sweetly. "That is very kind of you," I suddenly felt very guilty because the way that he phrased it made it sound like I was involving him in deception and trying to shirk my responsibility. "I don't suppose I could come in and continue this conversation? I assure you that your donut is safe and I won't be asking for it," he smirked about the donut that was clearly hanging out of my ass when he walked up. "I would open the door for you but as you can see I am a bit tied up," I gave him an equally wide smile in return. "My husband says that visitors are welcome after noon, you would be most welcome then." "Then I shall return to see your wares, milady. I bid you good day." he doffed a finger over his brow like he was tipping an imaginary hat and walked on down the road humming an old tune to himself as he walked. He turned before he left and added some words of advice "If you are living and it does not scare you half to death, then you are not really alive." I watched him walk on and never look back at me again and grinned. That was a very surreal encounter and the fact that it seemed to be common knowledge that the Griffins, Millers and Waxermans were kind of freaky made the knowledge that the Taylor's had been added to that list of neighborhood weirdoes all the more palatable. I knew the Waxermans all too well and it was only a matter of time before my 'pooper-snoopers' showed up and began asking me where I've been and what I've been up too. I knew the Millers pretty well too. Their daughter Hope had been to many of the sleep-overs my daughter had when they were in middle school and she was a cheerleader just like Jamie. I know they own a car dealership and I remember Hope's father making quite a stir at the pool party last weekend but I was so busy being looked at and ridiculed that I didn't have time to really process the entire thing. It made it easier to accept this way of living to know that we weren't the only ones. I spent five minutes licking the table clean just trying to define what I meant by 'this way of living' and if it was really a way of life or just an accident of circumstance. I did have to wonder what he meant by the Griffins being freaky. I knew Cathy and her brothers were obviously some evil brats but did he mean her parents were as well? I hadn't met them but knowing that her Grandfather is Mr. Bitterman does tell me where she inherited her alpha-personality and attitude. I think sociopaths are probably good candidates to become CEOs because they have no moral code to get in the way of doing whatever it takes to get ahead. I began to wonder if Mr. Bitterman and Cathy had more going on than I realized and perhaps she had roped him into her little blackmail web of deception. I thought how crazy it might be if Cathy had manipulated the old man and pulled all of his strings the way she did with her brothers. I put the paranoid conspiracy theories out of my mind for a while and focused on chewing up the last bits of dried molasses like syrup and food on the table before my husband and son woke up. There was a kitchen clock ticking and I watched as it reached 9 A.M and I had not yet finished clearing the table of my mess. I don't know why I expected them to show up right at 9 A.M, they were both heavy sleepers and let's face it – kind of lazy. This hadn't changed all that much except for Chris being up early to get his sister ready for school and show his responsibility. He liked to joke "With great lack of responsibility, comes great laziness," before all this began. He had really stepped up but I expected both of them to oversleep. I started to feel guilty and nervous that I would be caught if I wasn't standing so I hurried to finish cleaning the table so I could stand up. They didn't disappoint – which bought me another fifteen minutes before they both entered the kitchen fresh from a morning shower. "I should have made your mom wash us both," Bill was still drying his hair as he talked to Chris about my fate today. Chris was pleased to see that I had pretty much cleaned my mess off the entire table and I was proud too. I was standing up and dancing around on the kitchen table and had been for the last five minutes before they walked in and breathed a sigh of relief. "What the fuck? How did she get a donut up her ass?" Bill seemed skeptical I had been a good girl after all. "I woke up early and put that there," Chris could have told him I stole a donut somehow or he didn't know so he could watch me get punished but he was kind enough to tell the truth and I nodded a look of appreciation. "Wow, how much do you have in your big mouth that you dropped on the table Cow Tits?" Bill sounded impressed. I had finished cleaning the table but left nothing in my mouth! I instantly realized he would wonder where the bacon was. I opened my mouth to show him and said "Nothing sir," "So you didn't drop anything on the table?" Bill asked me skeptically. "I let her swallow when I came down to get some donuts this morning, Dad" Chris lied on my behalf. He didn't really lie because he had let me swallow ALL of the contents on the table but he was covering for me and it made me feel a secret joy that he was on my side and at the same time nervous that I would be caught. "Wow, that is cool," Bill seemed none the wiser and my guilt factor grew for not telling the whole truth – I guess I am more like Jamie than I thought. "We need to get her down so she can take a much needed shit and piss then, I suppose she will want to milk those fat titties as well." He looked me right in the eye. "I already shit and pissed Master," I admitted. "Oh?" Bill looked at Chris as if to verify whether or not I had been allowed to do that as well. "I shit and piss on the table this morning Sir, that is what Master Chris let me swallow," I admitted on behalf of Chris. The sound of those words escaping my lips was surreal but the guys acted like it was totally expected and I suppose it was now for the girls of the house. "Oh? Cool," Bill didn't even realize that inside a thousand warning sirens were blazing that I probably should not have told him I ate my own crap with piss on it because now he would make me do it all the time. "Here turn around so your ass faces me," Bill pulled my ass cheeks apart licked his finger and plooped it in and wriggled it around while driving the half-donut slightly further up my butt. He pulled it out and sniffed it. "I thought you told us you really had to shit last night? It must have just been a little bit, there is nothing in there" He held his finger up for me to clean and I bent down at the knee with the slack from the rope and licked his finger clean without saying a word. "You dirty little pig, your asshole is entirely empty. You told me you had to take a giant dump and it was a false alarm, eh? You can make us breakfast then shave and milk yourself on the kitchen floor. If there is food left over and you want to beg, you will get to eat it after you plug your ass with it, sound like a plan?" he sounded invigorated by his sleep. "Yes Master, it does," I smiled wistfully – I was trying to keep myself awake as I had not slept. "The little piggy is tired, aww isn't that cute? You better get yourself in motion. I might let you do a half cup of coffee, half cup of breast milk if you make some decent eggs this morning." I did exactly as I was told and cooked the guys up some breakfast in the nude and served it to them at the kitchen table. Bill looked out the window and scoffed "Hardly a punishment, no one ever walks down the street on Thursday morning," as he sipped his OJ and ate his food. "There were some joggers, Mrs. Waxerman and Doctor Hooker this morning Sir," I informed him. "No police came to tell you to put your clothes back on, huh? I guess you were disappointed about that." Bill sounded kind of jealous when he made that comment as he sipped his juice but he didn't continue the point and I did not answer him. "Go get your shaving cream and mirror, a razor and hot water and sit down and shave that twat, ass and under your arms piggy. I want you to look good today and smooth as Chris's ass," Bill said to me while untying my arms from my waist and unsecuring me from the loose cords that bound me to the table... "Hey! You been looking at my ass?" Chris teased his father and they talked a little while I completed my morning ritual of shaving while they watched me in the living room. "Do you ever think she gets wet when she diddles herself like that?" Chris asked his father while they watched me shave my pussy. I had to hold myself open in order to get the stubble along the edges of my lips and yes I did get wet. "Cow Tits, you getting off on this treatment?" Bill asked me appraisingly. "Am I under extreme white alert or honestly, Sir?" I asked him to clarify whether I had to embellish and pretend to be some sort of wanton slut or if I could just be honest. "As much as I like you to play the sexually addicted cougar who needs discipline and begs for it - I would say to be honest around us," Bill answered. I could tell he might have preferred the extreme white alert answer and I decided to give him a little bit of both. "Honestly, my cunt does get wet when I shave myself or when Ass Face does, especially when you watch me do it Sir. It is very humiliating and the tile is cold and gives me goosebumps. The boners in your pajamas tell me I will get fucked today and drink your cum and my brain is letting my cunt know to get juicy." That was a much more provocative answer than Bill expected and I could see him adjust his dick and hide his smile. "Very good, the little bitch may be worth keeping after all," he laughed in the direction of Chris. "I need a morning piss, should I take her to the bathroom or can I do it right here?" Chris asked his dad. "I don't know, can you?" Bill teased back with a smirk. "Fine, bitch get over here you can finish shaving in a few minutes, open that mouth and if you spill a drop you'll be licking it off the floor," I was going to be used as a urinal and Chris was my first for the day. I smiled at him and shuffled over on my knees without getting off the floor so I could remain kneeling. As soon as I got in front of them I sat back on my heels and opened my mouth. "What is a Taylor woman good for?" Chris asked me. "Well our mouths are only good for two things, sucking and swalrrrgghhgh" I had almost finished saying swallowing when his acrid yellow stream shot right down my throat and some of it rolled down my chin on to my tits. "You need better accuracy, Cow Tits" Chris blamed me as he shot his morning piss into my open mouth. He seemed delighted to spray me in the face with urine and not the least bit guilty as he unloaded his morning piss. "Great, now I have to go, can you hurry up?" Bill chided his son. "Jesus, you are going to have to tie that thing in a knot you are pissing so long." "Mom has a big mouth, get over here and just piss in it at the same time," Chris suggested and while I watched, my husband took his cock out and stood up, leveled his dick at my mouth and shot his morning piss into it alongside his son. I tried swallowing as fast as I could so that I did not drown or gag. I didn't wait for my mouth to fill up – that ended up making me cough and sputter. Instead, I tried to relax my throat like when giving a big blowjob and let it slide down while continuously swallowing. "Pissed on, pissed in but never pissed off, right sweetheart?" Bill asked me and I tried to nod in agreement while letting the two of them finish using my mouth – which resulted in more of it spilling down my chest. "Don't worry you will get a chance to let that dry." He added. When they finished I thanked them both for the morning piss by kissing both of their dicks without being told. "Wow, someone is a brown noser," Chris laughed. "You've made me one literally Master, may I kiss your asses this morning?" I reminded them of his father's new rule about three times a day. My breasts were about to burst but they had become so swollen I was used to the full feeling and was able to handle it a little longer. "No, I want to see you piss in this doggy dish and make some coffee with it. Then you will milk those titties into it and you can kiss our asses after I take a shit." Bill instructed and looked for his newspaper. "Newspaper out on the lawn? I'd offer you a star or whatever the fuck to get it like you are, but we aren't keeping score like that anymore." "Can I run to get your newspaper Master?" I am ever the detail person. I wanted to make sure there were no strange stipulations after I agreed. He nodded I could and I asked "You guys won't lock the door will you?" as I looked out the kitchen window to see if anyone was out there- there wasn't. I went through the front door in the living room and ran to the end of our drive way to grab our newspaper. I am sure the guys were watching from the kitchen window as my tits bounced and shook while I tried to hurry. "Oh still playing slave I see?" Van Pewterschmidt, my handsome neighbor who bears a slight resemblance to Kevin Costner, was polishing his red sports car in the driveway next to ours. I picked up the newspaper and spun on my bare foot to see him in shock. He had sex with me a week ago and I knew he wasn't totally surprised by me being out there naked but the thought ran through my mind of abject terror being discovered in public naked with a dog collar on. "Yes Sir, I am still a slave to my husband and son, how are you doing?" I held the newspaper up across my chest slightly covering my nipples. I knew it did not do a lot of good strategically but it was a natural reaction to his stare. "I am just peachy," he had a swagger of confidence that my husband had developed in the last week but there was something about Van's confidence that could rub me the wrong way. "I am supposed to be coming over today to have a look at your furniture and stuff, your husband said he will make me a deal on some fishing rods he has. I guess I will see you then?" he chuckled. "Yes, I think you will see ALL of me, Sir" I motioned to my body "Excuse me please," I hustled back inside. I had been lucky we live on a slow street and it was Thursday morning after the commuters and school kids have all left. I delivered the newspaper to my husband in my mouth on my knees like a doggy and wagged my ass like a tail. "Oh very good, Roscoe is going to love you," I had forgotten until Bill mentioned it – or at least pushed it out of my mind that I would be having sex with Roscoe today. "Pardon me for suggesting but you asked me to remind you when there may be a problem," I got my husband's attention. "You know Ass face is suspended from school but should we un-enroll Chris so his grades do not reflect absences wherever he transfers?" "No worries, Me and Dragovich are best of buds now. He says he will take care of my absences until we figure out where we are gonna go," Chris informed me of the Principal's decision. I knew in part that it was because of the sex we had the night before. "Well don't just stand there, go get a metal bowl and piss in it, then pour it into the coffee maker and make yourself a cup of delicious lemon coffee," Bill looked over at his paper to instruct me what to do next. "Yes Master, thank you for allowing me to piss in the kitchen." "You have two minutes," Bill didn't look up from his paper. "I see Pewterschmidt was talking to you. Did he try to lay down the moves on you?" I was already squatting and peeing a stream into the stainless bowl when I answered as if it were perfectly normal morning banter between husband and wife. "No master, he just asked me how I was and said he was coming over later today to buy your fishing rods." "That fucker has no appreciation for quality. They aren't just fishing rods. They are 7'4" Dobyn's Champion Extreme Series Fishing Rods with Heavy Jigs, Carolina Rigs, and a Full Handle." Bill lamented. "I did not know you were such an expert on fishing, Dad" Chris watched me piss while talking casually to his dad. "There are a lot of things you would know if we had ever taken the fishing trip," I heard some remorse in Bill's voice before he instructed me that my time was up and I needed to fill the coffee pot. I did as I was told and then dragged out the goat milker from the closet. This was designed for four nipples but you can turn off the suction to the ones you are not using. I got on all fours and attached the pump to mine before turning it on and waiting. "It's more fun to watch them just play with and tug at their nipples," Chris smiled at his dad. "Yeah, but this thing is very thorough, you see all that milk coming out of your mom?" Bill showed him a line of my milk rolling into a bag. "Jesus Christ, it almost seems like she is pissing a stream of milk out of both tits simultaneously," Chris commented. I was pretty shocked that I had that much extra water to turn into milk in the first place. "Women truly are turd, piss and milk machines aren't they?" Bill laughed. "Snot and pussy juice too," Chris added two more qualifiers to the list of accomplishments of the fairer sex as he and his dad saw it. When they allowed me to turn it off there must have been a third of a gallon of milk in the basin – the most I have ever done, and I felt completely drained – my tits were very sore and very, very sensitive. "Drag your tits across the tile and eat these pills," Bill held out my birth control pills and the 'vitamins' they had been giving us to make our nails, hair and breasts grow – and to induce lactation. I did as I was told and thanked him for the pills. "Should we have her fuck Roscoe now?" Chris was excited to make me get on with the promised bestiality. "I dunno, let's ask the slut," Bill answered. "Slut, would you like to do your kegal exercises, squat thrusts and jogging in place, get your enema and all your morning rituals and training done or go fuck Roscoe while we watch?" I swallowed at how casually my husband considered the choices he offered me as if he was asking if I wanted to eat at Sizzler or Ponderosa for lunch. Had I sunk this low in his esteem and did I really agree to a full week after this one? I knew Chris had been testing me to see if I would pick the right choice but I think Bill was just asking because he wanted to know the answer. Bill is much simpler and straightforward about things like that. I also saw the look in their face that they wanted to get a rise out of me. Bill normally played the strong silent type who stayed serious but there was a curl to the sides of his lip that told me he was having fun playing with me this way. "If you would prefer I tighten my pussy muscles and work off some of the fat on my ass after getting the shit pumped out of it first before I fuck the family pet of six years I defer to you as the man of the house," I said in as even and casual a tone as I could manage as If I told him either Ponderosa or Sizzler would do just fine for lunch and it made no never mind to me. "A little passive aggressive are we?" Bill seemed amused. I could see how he thought maybe I was trying to hint that I thought the family pet shouldn't be involved in our discipline routines and he was probably right – I had made that comment without thinking about it and it revealed my fears. "You are right though, you should spend a little time working off that fat and tightening up that tight pussy – come here" he motioned with his finger for me to walk towards him. I crawled over to him. He forced me to my feet by pulling me up by grabbing my tits –all he had to do was order me to stand and I would have done so gladly but I had agreed to rough handling and I knew that was part of the deal. "Take that sour bitch-titty milk and pour it into your enema bottle and the rest in the coffee pot," he instructed and slapped me on the ass as he turned me around to face my milk. "Good girl, bending at the waist with legs parted like the slut we are training you to be" he observed that I had not broken the protocol they had been drilling in my head – I have to admit I was secretly proud he noticed little things like that. When I was just his wife and mother of his two kids he had stopped noticing the cleaning and things I did around the house or saying anything about them years ago. Now at least he noticed that I made an effort to show my ass and full pussy lips to him when bending over – small victories I suppose. I wondered if he would notice the things I did around the house when he returns me to the station of mother and wife or if in his estimation I will have to continue to bend at the waist to get his notice and praise while I poured my breast milk into an enema bottled destined to go back into my ass. My husband surprised me by coming behind me and taking the bottle from my hand and shoving it into my mouth. "Don't drink it all you greedy cunt," he slapped cuffs on my wrists behind my back and marched me to the backyard with his hand in my back telling me "Hup two-three-four-tits further-out-hup too" as he high stepped me passed the sliding glass doors into the patio of our backyard. We had not had a family barbecue since the kids were in elementary school and I personally hadn't been in the backyard except to feed and water Roscoe before leaving for work in years. I had spent much more time back here in the last few weeks of discipline in the warm sun getting tanned in the nude than I ever spent when I was a free woman. I still couldn't help but feel an overwhelming amount of loss at the realization this yard would soon belong to the bank and I would never see it again. The sun had already risen and drove off the morning fog and it was warming up and starting to look like a very normal and temperate day in the suburban landscape of Cherry Lawn Estates – one where most people were going about their day watering their lawns and riding their bikes. I of course was not one of those people. I was being manhandled by my husband outside in the yard, naked with my hands cuffed behind my back and my own breast milk in an enema bottle destined for my ass. "You can get down on your hands and knees and kiss Roscoe before you get your enema," my husband took the bottle out of my mouth and said the words as if he was offering me some kind of treat. I didn't dare look at Bill as he would assume I was trying to give him a chance to reconsider what he wanted me to do – even though my natural instinct was to be that passive aggressive with him. I went to my knees with my hands behind my back and leaned over and Roscoe, still on his chain ever-delighted for attention, obliged by giving me doggy kisses all over my face. "Let's see a little tongue there Cow-tits, that isn't how you normally kiss strange men." He sounded just a little bit angry and jealous but I let it pass- thinking to myself that reminding him a dog is not a man would probably get me a lesson in discipline as payback for saying it. Instead, I let my tongue hang out of my mouth and Roscoe obliged by kissing me on it and lapping all over the inside of my mouth. I don't know what they feed the dog that gives his breath a fish smell but it was like warm garbage. I have had to eat his dog food before and I wondered if my breath was that stinky – I knew Jamie's wasn't and she had to as well. He inserted the fleet enema nozzle roughly up my asshole while I was bent over kissing the dog and said "That is enough you dirty dog slut," as if I had wanted to continue with the disgusting act. I felt the urge to cry at the knowledge it was going to happen today and that my daughter had already done it – there was no going back from that. Once you have fucked a dog is there nothing you would not do? He led me crawling on the cement of our patio away from Roscoe by my hair. Bill had me rest the side of my face flat against the cement and push my nipples against the scratchy, warm surface while keeping my ass up and parted. He kicked my legs further apart and said "Don't drop this bottle while I am gone, I'll be back soon with Roscoe's food since you are too lazy to feed and water him now". I could almost sense he was trying to make a teasing joke the way Chris often did but it sounded more like he was serious the way it came out. "I am not going anywhere Master, I'll be here when you get back," I found myself saying as I heard my husband open the sliding glass door to walk back into the comfort of the house. "Oh and Sir?" I asked. "Yes Cow tits?" he sighed as if he was tired of answering questions before my first one. "Thank you Master," is all I said. ------- Chapter 44: Chris's Journal: If I were to give up sarcasm that would leave interpretive dance as my only form of communication ****Note to reader: This is an excerpt of Chris's journal from Thursday morning from his perspective. The events take place after 9am while just as his mother is led outside for her enema. In order to increase readability, some of the dialogue exchanged was altered to appear in a 'narrative' story format. CASH EARNINGS THURSDAY WENDY: $0 WEIGHTS: 0 JAMIE: $50 WEIGHTS: 0 When I was a baby I could close the world up in fleshy pink mitts Now the world flays the infant palms and the bones drip out in its spit When I was small I reached up so high and grasped at the morning star Now the wormwood topples down on me and smashes all my parts When I was a child my bones spread out like peacock feathers alive Now the feathers wilt like cancerous boils leaving sagging pores in my hide When I was of age I saw a gate so wide and a path so broad for the taking But the road to everything led to a cliff where I sprawled out naked and aching I had that song stuck in my head. I can't explain why. I guess you could say that I had so much on my mind that my mind was trying to distract me from thinking about it all. A few months ago my life was fairly simple. I went to school and was a nobody that no one really paid any attention too. I came home and played World of Warcraft and then masturbated to Olivia Munn on Attack of the Show. I did not have many friends but I knew who they were. More importantly no one expected much from me. If anyone noticed me they assumed I was stupid and had nothing important to say and it was nice not to have any responsibility. Now I feel the weight of everything that my parents are dealing with and it feels like because Mom has become our slave that some of that weight has to rest with me instead. We are losing our house and we are going to have to move – no one knows where this crazy rollercoaster of a life we are living is headed and I can tell the stress is getting to Dad and rolling downhill on the rest of us. In the last day I've fucked my sister and my mom, I've pissed down their throats, I've tied them up, I've done some horribly sadistic things and they asked me to do them - They expected me to do them. We've reached a point now where what is taboo to most people seems like our normal. I tied my mom up in the kitchen with the curtains open and she didn't scream and say how rotten that was. She just accepted that it was a reasonable punishment and not only that – she accepted that her son had the right to punish his own mother. Mom got down on the table and gobbled up the bacon I made her shove up her own ass. She had a disgusted but determined look on her face when she didn't know I was watching. I saw the look of fear on her face when I caught her doing it and I will admit I felt sorry for her at first. I could tell she thought I might punish her a little further when I flicked on the light and saw her freeze in place. I cannot say I feel guilty for punishing my mom – I quite enjoyed it. The thing is I don't think my enjoyment comes from a cruel place. I punish her because she seems to need it now. I can't quite figure out why but I feel like we've exchanged roles and now it is up to me to keep the womenfolk of the house in line and out earning for the family. It is wise to let her feel terror that I might punish her and I can tell my mom is one of those people who will wonder why I did that and assign some meaning to it. She will wonder if it was a random act of kindness and beat herself up over why I did it. The fact is I love my mom and I thought she was being well behaved – every now and then I have to throw her a bone. If it was just twisted and brutal with her all the time and this cruelty came from the dark places in my fantasies then the entire context of this exercise would have taken a different turn. I certainly think the girls would not have volunteered to continue if we had just been total bastards the entire time. I will admit though – I've been a cruel bastard SOME of the time and laughed right in their faces as I twisted their titties and played with their pussies and it has been fun. I keep wondering if anyone else in the family has thought about how things will be when this is all over. I mean we are all growing more comfortable in our roles as Masters and slaves to one another but at some point when the girls no longer are whoring and we've found a place to live then what? I enjoy the delicious sweet smell of my mother's pussy juice so much that I finger her every chance I get to inspect that pussy – the one that gave birth to me. She is unaware that I smell my fingers when she isn't around and crave it – what will happen when I can't just stick a finger up her twat? Will I miss the smell of her body? The sweet, salty taste of her skin and her juices dried on my fingers – a flavor saver. Can I look my sister in the eye and not remember how vulnerable she looked when I took her ass? How sexy she was? She is so feminine in all aspects – there is this aura around her that makes my testosterone shoot through the roof. Will we laugh about the time I tied her to a wall and left her naked outside all day or will she hold it against me and always remember me as a cruel pervert and drive a wedge between us? We were never that close before this all began but now things have really changed and I wonder if going back to the way it was – is even possible? I was trying not to think too deeply about all of this and humming along to a Babyhead song in my mind as I went to go check on my mother. I had Roscoe's dog food and I was even going to let my mother have a little if she begged for it without shoving it up her ass first. My mom was outside on the ground kneeling with her ass up in the air and her face on the patio and her enema bottle wiggling obscenely out of her ass cheeks like a plastic tail. I stopped before opening the sliding glass door and watched as the Waxerman boys emerged from over the fence and approached her. I had to smile at how bold they had become. They used to just stare all day from the other side of the fence. I heard them say "Hello Mrs. Taylor". "Hello boys," My mom sighed as if she wasn't that surprised they had shown up when they did. She didn't move to cover herself – she remained cuffed with her hands behind her back. They had seen her naked often enough that there was no point. "We have missed you and your daughter," one of the boys tells her and they ask where she has been. "I am sorry Pooper Snoopers," my mom came up with that nickname for them for some reason. I think it is because they are always snooping around – mostly where the girls are pooping but that is a wild guess. It could just be it rhymes. "We've been out trying to make money," I had to smile at the awkward way my mom chose her words carefully. I considered walking out there and making her tell them exactly what she was and what she had been doing but I decided to let her dangle a little longer and listen. "How?" one of them asked curiously. I think it is interesting how very naïve and innocent these boys can seem – like they stepped out of a black and white TV show from the 1950s about Mayberry but that they could stand behind my mom while she took an enema and that wasn't their first question to her. Then again as Mrs. Waxerman's nephews I am sure they are no strangers to an enema themselves. They thanked my mom. I am sure they thanked her for the many wet dreams and pre-teen boners that she had provided them, but it sounded like they were happy about some recent change in the household -I guessed their aunt, Mrs. Waxerman might be relaxing her harsh ways. It was delicious to hear my mom answer their questions awkwardly as if she were freshly humiliated each time she had to admit something like "My husband felt I should get my enema outside this morning," or that it was filled with her breast milk while they giggled and made her uncomfortable with their presence. I wanted to listen more but I felt mom had been taking the enema long enough – I needed to step outside and intervene. I would let the boys watch of course if they wanted as I let her drain the enema. A tapping on my shoulder interrupted my thoughts and I turned around to see Delilah Waxerman standing in front of me. She is the sexy country girl who had shown an interest in me at the community pool party and older sister to the boys currently molesting my mom. I had assumed she was just flirting with me at first because she may have wanted some dirt on my sister or something but it became obvious to me that she really did like me for some reason. She has sexy blue eyes and long dark raven colored hair with a cute upturned nose and freckles – the quintessential country girl that central casting in Hollywood would pick to play in a made for Lifetime television movie. I would never have even talked to a girl this hot before I started dominating my sister and mother but I think she was attracted to the swagger and confidence that seemed to be blossoming in me. I guess when you know you can get laid if you want too – that is when other girls can smell that on you and want some of it too. I assumed at first she was there to torment my mom as well but I noticed that there was something very different about her. She had on a black choker around her neck and she wore a very short denim skirt and a red polka-dot half top tied around her chest that did nothing to hide the fact her nipples were fully erect. Her tits reminded me of Georgia peaches and the shirt only served to draw my eyes to her chest. If she wanted my attention –she certainly had it. She could sound like a tomboy redneck when she wanted to but this time she said in that sexy sweet southern accent "Hello Sir". I grinned at her and saw Mrs. Waxerman in the living room talking to my father. I am sure she was giving him a piece of her mind about something or other that she felt we were doing wrong. "Hello Sir, huh?" I laughed because I assumed it must be a joke and she was making fun of how we run things with the girls. She must have read my mind because she said "It is not a joke Sir, my Aunt has made a few changes around the house and I will have to show respect to you as a man of the Taylor household." I still thought she might be putting me on. "You have my curiosity," I bid her to continue with her story. She explained that after her bet with Cathy Griffin she ended up on her shit list of rivals. "She was on mine too but I had no idea how ruthless the little piece of tail could be," she explained in a hushed whisper while her Aunt talked to my father. I could see her looking over frequently to keep a close eye on Delilah. Cathy dug up some dirt on Delilah but she never explained exactly what it was. Cathy went to Mrs.Waxerman and pretended to be concerned about Delilah's immortal soul and used our family as an example of sluts gone wild who needed extreme control. "This was payback for whooping her ass in front of her grandfather I am sure," she whispered. "My Aunt is very strict as you know and you know how if you get caught smoking some parents make you smoke a whole carton to make you lose your taste for it?" "Salome Waxerman?" Victoria called to her niece from across the room but had given her a new name. "That is my new name, just play along shug" Delilah whispered to me and winked. "Yes Ma'am?" she turned to answer her Aunt in a much sweeter and formal voice than I have heard. "Come show Mr. Taylor what you are learning," Mrs. Waxerman said sternly and added "And be thankful for the example he set with his own wayward wife and daughter that I was able to learn from his wisdom." That was high praise coming from the old dingbat. "Yes Ma'am, but do I have to take off all of my clothes?" she was already removing her top and revealing her perfectly juicy and ripe, freckled teenage tits. "Did you have ANY problem getting naked over here the other day when you were mud wrestling in the most sinful of ways?" Mrs. Waxerman answered her sternly. Delilah looked over her shoulder at me as she undressed and winked with a smile to let me know that she wasn't nearly as worried about it as she sounded when she begged not to strip. "Yes Ma'am," Delilah stepped out of the skirt revealing a cleanly shaven, but sore and puffy mound that reminded me of Jamie's tight little beaver. Her ass had WH and RE on each cheek. "Tell Mr. Taylor what that says on your posterior and why it is on there," Mrs. Waxerman ordered. "Oh this written on my little old butt, Ma'am?" Delilah reverted back to her countrified southern accent playfully. "It says WHERE I believe." She turned around and mooned my father so he could see it. "It mostly certainly does not, you know what it says!" Mrs.Waxerman sounded deeply embarrassed that her niece was not taking this seriously. "Would you read it then? If that is not an E then what is it?" Delilah played dumb and pulled her cheeks apart for my father to take a good long look. Dad said nothing – he wasn't going to let the girl tease him and manipulate him into playing her game. I could see the start of a boner in his trousers. A few weeks ago Dad might have been floored by what she was doing but after Jamie and Mom he stood there unmoved – with the exception of a quiet erection growing in his jeans. "Mr. Taylor does not have time for your nasty shenanigans and open displays of wanton lust," Mrs. Waxerman chided her niece but was interrupted by the sound of our sliding glass doors opening. "Oh Gawd it's you three," their sister answered their excited cries of her new name 'Salome' with her derision. "Why don't you three go play outside in traffic while the grown-ups talk?" she could be mean but she used to have a subtlety about it. Now it shocked me given the vulnerable way she was the only one naked in the room she dared to talk to her brothers this way. "Ma'am, Salome' is being rude to us!" the boys cried out for the kind of justice a kid cries out for when their sister is poking them in the back of the car on a long trip, not when she is naked and spreading her cheeks in front of them. "Salome, recite 1 Corinthians 2:12!" Mrs. Waxerman instructed "In the position!" "Not the position in front of the brats, Ma'am?" Salome' removed her hands from her ass-cheeks and sounded instantly reluctant, like someone afraid to go on a rollercoaster but only slightly. I didn't think she was all that terrified – although she is a tough girl to read. "Do you want me to take the ruler out and deliver unto you the attitude adjustment that you seem to be begging for right here and now in front of the Taylor's and your brothers, Salome'?" Mrs. Waxerman was flabbergasted at her niece's defiance given the upper hand she clearly had over her. "I really wish you would, Ma'am," Salome answered as she got into what was obviously the 'position'. "I really do need another twenty or so attitude adjustments to start my day just right, you seem to love giving them, you dirty old duck!" As defiant as Salome's words were she complied with her Aunt's wishes. Salome' was definitely not terrified, in fact she seemed to be daring her Aunt – white alert taken to a whole new level. The position was hard and it was more vulgar than how Delilah, who now had to answer to the name 'Salome' had been standing. Mrs. Waxerman's tone had implied she wanted Delilah to be less obscene but the position clearly did not allow for it. Salome put both palms flat on our carpet and lowered her nose to touch the carpet while keeping her legs wide apart and her knees only slightly bent. The execution was as flawless as a gymnast and the bent over "V" position of her legs had the side effect of highlighting the girl's chiseled abdomen as her tummy strained with the rest of her body to hold the position. "One Corinthians Two-Twelve Ma'am," she sighed while her brother's gleefully stood behind her to listen to her recitation of scripture that she had obviously had to memorize. "I suffer not a woman to teach a man, she shall remain silent, Ma'am." "Yet you run your mouth and disrespect the males of both the Taylor family and this one at every chance you get!" Mrs. Waxerman continued over the snickering of Salome's younger brothers. "You will give thanks to Mr. Taylor for teaching me that I had spared the rod and spoiled the prodigal niece for too long and that you will learn to accept this discipline" "For how long I gotta follow these new rules, Auntie?" Delilah sounded impatient and despite the difficulty of holding the position she did so quite well. "You will refer to me as Ma'am from now on and all men as Sir," she removed a ruler from her purse like a gunfighter drawing a six-shooter and smacked her niece's ass. We heard a loud pop and chuckles from the boys as Delilah seethed and drew air out of her mouth. "You should remain this way for as long as you are in my charge and then god-willing unless it is too late to teach you properly, and you turn out unrepentant like Wendy Taylor then whoever would have you as their wife shall keep you in biblical discipline as a wife should be!" "That is not fair, Ezekial, Jimmy and Gordon are laughing and looking at my asshole, Ma'am. They are getting perverted notions about me!" Her protest almost sounded genuine but there was clearly something off about it. "It is their fault that they should be around a sister so wicked and wanton as you that she leads them into temptation?" Mrs. Waxerman quickly countered with a point that sounded like she may have made earlier. "No ma'am, it's my fault for tempting them," Salome' sounded like she accepted that logic. "It's just that it is embarrassing for them to be in here when you told me we were coming to show Mr. Taylor and his wonderful son not to give up hope on the wicked women of their own house by the example you set with me?" she made a counterpoint. "Your brothers were not invited and I shall deal with them and their reason for coming when we get home!" Mrs. Waxerman's glare gave the boys giggles a long pause. "What are you doing here anyway?" "We was coming to tell Mr. Taylor that his wife's enema bottle has popped out," Jimmy Waxerman answered defensively. "We did not know you was gonna be in here with Salome'" "Naturally you did not know because my movements are not of your concern and you would have hid yourself so that you not get punished for being where you should not ought to be wouldn't you?" Mrs. Waxerman shook a finger out at the oldest of the boys that seemed to always be pointing out some flaw in others. I thought about interrupting and pointing out the scripture she had just had Salome' recite could apply to her as well but then I did not want to make the old hypocrite think she had to get down in V position –nobody wants to see that. When her nephew nodded his head in agreement and seemed apologetic she said "Well you know what you did wrong and boys will be boys," Mrs. Waxerman used to play favorites and Delilah had been the one she doted on. It was clear now that things had reversed course as she changed the girls name to Salome' and her behavior along with it. "You can ask Mr. Taylor if you can remain while Salome' recites the bible verses that are applicable but if it were my house I would have you outside where boys like you belong!" "Mr. Taylor we sure could use a bible lesson from our sister, may we stay?" the smiles from the boys implied they enjoyed seeing their sister humbled beyond the containment of mere words. "Actually, I have to say something here," Dad finally spoke and he sounded very serious. "I did not intend for you to take the things we have done around you to heart. I don't want a teenage girl to have to suffer because of what you think we are doing." Dad sounded emphatically sincere. What was he doing? He loved it when my mom and sister did it and now he seemed to grow a conscience about another young girl doing it? Granted, Mrs. Waxerman was probably a much bigger stickler than even we were and she had basically said Salome' was going to have to live this way for the rest of her natural life if it were up to Mrs. Waxerman. "Nonsense," Mrs. Waxerman answered dismissively. "You are a good hard working biblical man, and you had no choice with the uncontrollable sluts in your own household but to lay down some ground rules. Even as we speak your wife is outside accepting an enema under god's sunshine and not complaining or running off for some career to leave you to care for your son!" I looked outside the glass window to where Mom was. She was licking the cement like a good little slut and she looked up and saw me with terror in her face. I wagged a finger at her and pointed to the fallen enema bottle. I mouthed the words "Get that back up your ass right now!" and then smirked and turned back to watch what was happening in the living room. I would let mom puzzle about how to tip the enema bottle back up with her hands cuffed behind her and sit on it. I walked over to the living room away from the den where the sliding glass door is. Salome' had begun wiggling her ass slightly in a provocative way despite the fact her brothers were watching intently. It was clear to me that her facial expression begrudged them a look and promised them retribution for their giggles but her body language invited them to stare. My father was in the process of explaining that he thought Mrs. Waxerman had gone too far. He did not want his actions and decisions to sentence this girl, even if she seemed to need some tough love, to the kind of discipline she had since his wife and daughter endure. He was doing his best not to admit it had all started as a joke to see if we could shock her but it seemed he was about too. Mrs. Waxerman just nodded her head and said that he was too modest and she had seen the change in his wife and daughter and how they had a long way to go to improve but that this was the only solution for the ways of wicked sluts like the ones they were dealing with. Delilah interrupted the two of them – a move that if she truly feared that ruler she would not have done. "It is okay Mister Taylor, I do appreciate your concern for my vanity and pride but I am a good Christian girl and I've studied the bible. I do not want to ALERT you, but my lily-WHITE ass can stand some education at the hands of my Aunt." My father can be dense at times but she had hit him over the head with a mallet to hint she was under white alert and he nodded with a confused expression. "May I tell the story of Salome' so that Mister Taylor understands why you have chosen that name for me Ma'am?" "How dare you child! He is a biblical man, I am sure he knows it as well as you if not more so!" Mrs. Waxerman smacked her ass with a ruler for daring to offer. "I think she is just being sarcastic," I teased because now I knew that Delilah had some little game she was playing and I would play along too. "If Delilah was forbidden sarcasm," I corrected myself "If Salome' was forbidden to use sarcasm then that would only leave interpretive dance to get her message across." I joked. "Actually, interpretive dance – you have no idea how right you are," Mrs. Waxerman regarded me like I was a really smart idiot as she nodded her head approvingly in the way you would if a child amazed you doing something fairly simple. "Actually, good Christian that I am," My Dad isn't the best liar and even I could see him smile when he said that. "I would like to hear her recite the story as an affirmation to reinforce what she is learning, to see if she understands it." "Very well, that seems reasonable." Mrs. Waxerman could see no fault in that logic and conceded. "I would like to make a request though, but it may seem a bit far out, if you will permit?" My dad smiled and Mrs. Waxerman nodded. "I believe the girl has a problem with frequent masturbation, doesn't she?" Mrs. Waxerman made an exasperated sigh as if that was a slight on her but Salome conceded the point "I admit I do, Sir" "Then I would like her to tell the story using one hand for support while masturbating herself with the other in front of us to shame her into being reluctant to pleasure herself through carnal means" Dad had heard enough of Mrs. Waxerman's bible double-speak to put together a well-reasoned argument. "Naturally, you could make her brothers move from out behind her that they do not get to see such a disgusting display". I quickly added "Yes, we made my sister masturbate furiously for 24 hours a day in order to break her of it. Now we rarely catch her playing with herself. It is like when you catch someone smoking and you make them smoke a carton to break themselves of it." "No!" Salome' pleaded with a hint of fake tears in her voice. "Don't make me play with myself while reciting the lord's verse in front of, at least not right in front of Mr. Taylor and my brothers." I almost believed she had blown the little white-alert game she was playing with her Aunt. "That is exactly what you are going to do and be thankful it is not more obscene, your brothers have seen you masturbate before!" I had forgotten that Mrs. Waxerman seemed to want to believe these things and would overlook some of the poor acting – which is how my sister and mom came to start their little sexy charade to push the old ladies buttons. "You have peeped on your sister masturbating haven't you?" "Yes Ma'am, but mostly Ezekial!" Jimmy threw his little brother under the bus. "That aint even true! you is the one told me about the peep hole in the shower!" Ezekial threw it right back at his older brother for getting him in trouble. "Then I see no reason to hide it, Salome will only masturbate openly when she is being trained. If you catch her during her shower than you are to report it to me!" Mrs. Waxerman announced. Salome' for her part had already lifted one of her arms below her waist and began softly diddling her clit and hiding her smile. She confused me – did she enjoy teasing her brothers this way? I could smell the familiar pussy juice smell that I loved so much, escaping her pink puffy pussy. "How come I am being punished for playing with myself in the shower, but it is okay that they was peeping at me through that hole I had no idea was in the bathroom, Ma'am?" Salome' groaned – half in relief from her fingers and half to pretend to lament the unfairness of the situation for the benefit of her aunt and brothers. "Can I answer that Ma'am?" I took the ruler out of Mrs. Waxerman's hand and gave a hard slap to Salome's ass without waiting for her Aunt's permission. She knew I was in on her charade at least I thought I understood the game she was playing. Even still she gave me a look of hurt surprise that I would sting her ass as hard as I did with the ruler – but she did not stop playing with herself. Her eyes were down-turned but when her bright blue gaze turned up at me I felt the swagger I felt when dealing with the girls in my own family and not an ounce of fear that I might have just overstepped my bounds. "You did not have to know they were peeping on you, you should not have been masturbating for your own pleasure. The fact that you got caught at it does not change what punishment will be meted out by Mrs. Waxerman! The fact is the boys are not going to peep on you anymore!" I announced as if I were delivering new rules. Even Mrs. Waxerman looked at me as if she were surprised they would not be – she knew they were little perverts. "No," I explained "Because from now on at least one of them will supervise you in the shower, or when you piss or shit and report on whether you tried to coerce them into permitting you to pleasure yourself privately!" "Hey now!" Salome balked and I cut her off with another strapping from the ruler. "I am sure you know better than to speak when a man is instructing you and interrupt him before he is finished?" I informed her but I was looking at Mrs. Waxerman's eyes. She has always considered me borderline retarded but she seemed to be reassessing that as I took control of her niece. "You will learn never to play with that dirty pleasure box of yours when you are alone," I checked out the delicate young 'pleasure box' as she fingered herself in time and with added intensity to my words. "You will ask permission of Mrs. Waxerman and your brothers if you can masturbate in their presence at least four hours a day and you will only do it when they are watching so that they can mock you for your dirty, disgusting habit until such time as they feel you are not tempted to play with yourself when alone, is THAT understood?" "Will you hit me with the ruler again if I say it aint understood, Sir?" Salome' was half joking and I knew it. She was practically purring now as she masturbated right in my living room. "Would you prefer I get the kind of paddle we use for my mother's fat-ass to help you understand?" I said quite pleased with myself. This was a girl I had known for only a week or two, who would not be here like this if not for the chance encounters of her family with mine during all this discipline. It is funny how fate works – it is almost like there is an author who enjoys clever twists engineering it all, but I know this is just random chance. "I think I would prefer that to the birch-oiled switches my Aunt would use on me when we get home Sir, could she take one of the paddles home to borry, Sir?" her southern accent became more pronounced and countrified as she mispronounced borrow in the style of a country bumpkin – lost in her little world of pleasure. "Actually, we are going to be moving soon and selling a lot of our stuff," Dad wasted no time trying to make a sale. "I would make you a good deal on some of our equipment to keep the womenfolk in line!" Salome' gave me a genuinely surprised look and stopped masturbating. I corrected her with a ruler slap to the finger on her cunt and she continued reluctantly. Victoria Waxerman chortled "I will be sorry to see you go, it's a rarity to have decent folk living here. Obviously your wife and daughter excluded. I believe the mountain ways of disciplining women folk will do just fine without any of your fancy contraptions but may I ask why you are moving?" "My wife and daughter brought us to financial ruin. My wife as you know stopped working when her need to fuck every guy at work exceeded her desire to do her work and then we had to spend so much to please them," Dad lied. "And with your wife unable to cook a decent meal, all those nights of fast food and TV dinners probably ate up what little you had left," she shook her head in agreement savoring the thought of someone else's financial ruin. Mrs. Waxerman was the kind of Christian who enjoyed neighborhood rumors and scandal, most of all when someone had a fall from grace. I could see in Salome's expression she had not expected our move and if I read her expression correctly it was genuine disappointment. "What will you do for money now? You can't work because you are too busy supervising the women folk and trying to raise your son doing double duty for the mother." Mrs. Waxerman enjoyed these kinds of scandals. Divorce, people losing their homes, she was going to make him give her more details about his financial hardship. I would imagine if there was a 900 line you could call to hear about people's troubles she would be calling it daily. "Well it is a bit embarrassing to be honest, after the bank takes the house this weekend and we sell everything we own we will still be left with more debt than if we had nothing at all," My Dad fed into the woman's craving to hear how his life turned upside down – I wasn't sure if he knew he was feeding the beast or just telling the truth. She nodded to continue taking her eyes off Salome'. "The girls are earning money the only way they can by working as whores down on Martin Luther King Junior," Bill delivered the news and even her nephews gasped in surprised. "My wife is here because she needed an attitude adjustment before we take her down there to work tonight." That is awful! There are so many unsavory types down there Mr. Taylor!" Mrs. Waxerman definitely did not approve. "You mean blacks?" I couldn't help myself to clarify what she meant by unsavory. "Yes well, there are many of them who are quite unsavory," Mrs. Waxerman was uncomfortable being called out for her implied racism and I enjoyed that almost as much as I did the white alert game we liked to play to shock the shit out of her. "I meant nothing by it Ma'am," I smiled and looked at my dad. "It's just that my mom and sister are mostly self-described nigger fuckers and knew that was where a huge concentration of them lived when they made us whore them out to keep a roof over our heads." I admit I think I like white alert a lot too because I could almost sense the old woman's asshole pucker from where I stood as she drank in the vulgarity of my words. "Now Chris, that is not a nice thing to say about your mother and Sister in mixed company" My dad chided me. "Your mom and sister can call them niggers because they are whores and enjoy talking obscenely, but we have to say blacks, it is far more polite." My Dad scored massive points with Mrs. Waxerman with that comment. I could imagine a big '500 points' light flashing over her head if this were a video game. "That is true and I apologize, plus if you remember yesterday they did that gang bang with all those Mexicans you found at Home Depot, right?" I almost didn't get to finish my sentence because Salome' interrupted me with intense groaning as she reached a deeply intense orgasm. I spanked her ass hard with the ruler "You aren't supposed to enjoy this!" I instructed. "You will have to keep masturbating now through orgasm and lick your fingers after, before repeating until you stop taking pleasure in this treatment!" I struck her hard on the ass cheeks again and she only intensified her orgasms. "This must be tough for you boys," My father said apologetically. "Your older sister is probably going to turn out to be a screw crazy whore like my wife and daughter," he said while the girl masturbated openly and intensely. Her one arm holding her body off the floor was shaking and her knees had bent as her body lit up with goose-bumps. I corrected her posture so she could continue to masturbate and forced her nose to just above the carpet's edge as my father explained the importance of discipline to a woman who seemed to thrive on administering it – as the preacher to the choir. "If I only didn't love and spoil my wife and daughter and had let them get away with so much for so long – putting on airs," my father lamented as if that were entirely true and he had always had the option to control them but chose not too out of the kindness of his heart. "I begged you to let me spank mom and Jamie but you said I was just a boy and even though I was a male, I should show them respect and not try to discipline them," I grinned at my dad as I lied through my teeth. "Don't you wish you had let me help you try to control and correct them before it was too late for them to be anything but whores?" "I sure do Son – I sure do," Dad chuckled as he probably imagined a situation where we had actually had that conversation years ago. "Well Mrs. Waxerman has nipped this in the bud, and she needs no help or advice but," I stopped on but and waited for Mrs. Waxerman to give me her full attention. "If her nephews wanted to learn how to grow up to be like you and keep their own wives in line, then their sister would be an opportunity for you to teach them how to discipline with stern love and kindness the way you do." "I am sure Mrs. Waxerman knows what is best for her nephews, Son," My dad was watching the girl masturbate herself and lick her wet fingers before replacing them again with amusement. "If she had wanted to teach them that, she could have come to me and used my wife or daughter to give lessons on how to control a woman without Salome'? Salome is it?" my dad asked Salome her name. She nodded 'mmm-hmmm' with her eyes shut as she toyed with her clit and fingered herself without concern for who was watching. I spanked her finger hard and told her "Clean that off, you are already so undisciplined you forgot to say Sir!" when she dutifully did as ordered without complaint I delivered another spank to her undefended clitoris and she spasmed almost falling over. "I don't know Dad, we are going to move after this weekend so it will be too late and I think this girl needs discipline." I turned to the boys who were somewhat mesmerized by their sister's furtive dance of self-eroticism on her own finger like a mini-stripper pole. "You boys would be willing to learn to spank your sister in ways that would reach a woman instead of playing in the yards all the time?" There was an exultant 'Yah!' from all three. A reluctant Gordon added "After she get us alone though, she will give us payback for anytime we peeped on her, getting her in trouble afor, she always made sure of that." "There will be none of that, if you are acting upon my instruction to discipline or monitor your sister and she tries anything, then you will learn to give her the business end of the ruler." Mrs. Waxerman had just agreed with us hook, line and sinker. I handed the ruler to Gordon with a smile and he told his sister to remove her hand – she complied without complaint. He delivered a hard smack to the lips of her clit just as I had done and her entire body shook electric. She waited and he delivered a second one with glee to the same reaction. "The boy seems like a natural," My dad complimented him and he beamed while the two other boys clamored for a turn. "First though, let me give you a pointer. You want to spread around the impact when you can. You don't want to numb one part of the body. Here hold her ass cheeks apart like this" I let Gordon pull his sister's ass cheeks apart. At first her left leg spasmed and I thought she was going to collapse on the floor. "We call that a Jamie when a girl has a spasm like that," I pointed out. I could tell Gordon was nervous about touching his sister's body so I added "Really grab both cheeks with each hand and spread nice and wide. You won't hurt her, you can't rip a hole in her butt any wider than the one she has." The boys loved my joke – they loved potty humor of all kinds. Then I delivered a strong, flat edge of the ruler directly to the darkly brown and tender pucker of her asshole and she made a gasp but continued to wait for another strike. "You can masturbate your pussy, we won't hit that" I told her and she did not waste anytime reinserting her finger. I gave the ruler to Gordon and told Jimmy to pull her cheeks apart so that he could get a turn. "Is the brown on her asshole dookie?" he asked. He was shy about actually spanking his sister's ass but I knew he genuinely thought it might be. I bent over and gave it a sniff. Then I touched it with my finger and felt how warm and throbbing it was before licking it. "It doesn't taste like dookie. I think some women have a nice pink one like my sister and then some girls just have a darker shade of skin around the hole. It may be genetic, Mrs. Waxerman may we see yours?" It was a worth a try – but if looks could kill I would have been dead. "Okay, well see, she is a good woman who doesn't need correction. Let me go show you on my mother, she probably needs me to check on her enema anyway." I put my arm around him and started to lead the boys to the patio. Jimmy let his sister's ass cheeks flap back together reluctantly to follow me in awe. "Nooooo," Delilah softly moaned. "No what?" I turned back to the girl playing with herself for our amusement and edification. "No sir, I've not told the story of Salome' yetttttttttt," she fingered herself hard and intensely. "Well, as I was saying," I put my thumb directly on her asshole and held her open for them to see. My hands are about three times the size of theirs and her body responded much better to my man-handling than the half-hearted attempts of her younger brothers. "You never want to allow a woman to have any shit in her ass when you are going to spank it or fuck it. You will have to make sure she shits at least four times a day and punish her if she can't produce. That will keep her nice and regular and if you follow with the old fashioned enemas once a day that Mrs. Waxerman produces you won't get any poopy on your fingers," I held out my dirty thumb to the boys to sniff and they backed away like vampires to holy water. Then I stuck it in Delilah's mouth. "Don't worry if you put your finger in any part of her that is sticky just use her mouth to clean it off," Delilah sucked my thumb like it was life itself and she was dying without sucking it off my finger. It felt damned good and I felt myself get fully aroused. "This one is a natural little cock sucker," I told Mrs. Waxerman after enjoying a few more seconds of her mouth. "You should be glad you caught her in time and can show her the error of her ways. I just hope she won't have to give blowjobs all the time like she does masturbating to prevent her natural inclination to suck on cocks. Where, after all, would you find the guys with the discretion to do it without taking her to Martin Luther King boulevard anyway," I hinted that the boys would be feeding her cock too but my subtlety was lost on them. They looked at me like I was the King of all things cool and the wisest man on the planet when I spoke and I really enjoyed the look on their faces as I made their sister my bitch. "What I said for the asshole goes for the cunt as well – she should piss when she shits at least four times a day around your schedule. You will naturally want to keep her naked at home so she can be spot checked to see if she is aroused. It's tolerable when she is masturbating like this." I stuck my finger in her wet pussy and wriggled it around before feeding the juice back to her. "However, if her mind is not on her discipline and she is having dirty thoughts, you can tell because her nipples are hard like these," I flipped her nipples and twisted them hard "If her skin gets flush and covered in goose-bumps" I pointed to her quivering thighs and "naturally a very juicy wet pussy. The only response is punishment." Ezekial had the ruler and popped her on the pussy hard without being told – she gasped for air and moaned before returning her finger to its dance of pleasure. "What about affirmations?" My dad was hard I could tell from how he stood and smiled as he asked me to explain those. "Affirmations are essential. You will ask them why they permit your control, what they are learning about their body, anything you want to know and make them be explicit in their speech. Don't let them get away with sugar coating it or half answers, you want them to hear themselves agree that they are learning or they aren't, got it?" They nodded but they did not have it. They no more understood what I had said then if I had asked them if they primed the flux capacitor before going to warp speed. "What is your name slut?" "Mrrr ... Salome sir" she cooed with ecstasy. "Notice how she accepts her shortcomings that she is a slut? It is preferable to being a dirty little bitch and it is honest," I instructed the boys before asking her "You are a slut aren't you?" "Yes sir," she gushed. "You want to limit the number of yes or no questions you ask. It is good to ask a few but she can guess what you want to hear. Make her really think about it while you give her the questions that will reinforce what she is learning." For no real reason I diddled her clit while I instructed the boys before feeding her finger to her to suck. "You are a sarcastic little tramp and snotty nose bitch as well," I made her assent to that before asking my question. "Tell us because we are all wondering, why is it you seem to enjoy what you are doing in our living room in front of your aunt and brothers so much?" She diddled herself harder. "I am not thinking about them Sir," she answered honestly – she was probably in her own little world. I would have liked to hear her say she was just thinking about me – I still wondered if she really liked me or had been fucking with me all along out of loneliness or pity. It had to get lonely being homeschooled in the Waxerman house with only younger boys around. "Selfish twat!" I told them to call her out on her bullshit. "Your brothers and aunt don't want to watch you play with yourself in my living room and frankly me and my dad can watch our girls do it much better than you can," I was insulting her to get a rise out of her – she was actually masterful in her vulnerable and innocent yet nasty country girl way of playing with herself – it was certainly getting a 'rise' out of me. "You are supposed to be fully aware that we are watching and judging and laughing at you so you accept the shame of your behavior and learn from it. You are never to imagine masturbating alone when you are doing it surrounded by people – is that understood?" I had just asked her another yes or no question despite my instruction not to focus on those- but it felt like a logical follow up. "Yes sir, but uh-ah-ohfffffffffff" she had caught herself on the edge of orgasm. "I just don't think it's fair my brothers will be able to tell me to play with me, myself I mean," she sucked her lip before continuing "anytime they want. I won't get my chores done." She tacked on a 'sir' at the end just like she had the excuse that her reason for not wanting to let them have the authority was her concern for her chores. "Life is not fair, and you teasing your pussy alone is not fair!" I added. "It's fornication!" Mrs. Waxerman's eyes flashed with lightning as she began to understand the affirmation I was giving and reinforce it. "That is right, it is fornication. You play with yourself alone, but you were not explicit!" I held up a finger of clarification. "When sluts are not explicit it means they are hiding something and you have to make them be honest, that is crucial. If they won't be honest with you then they won't be honest with themselves." "Do you play with your nipples when you play with yourself?" I reached under her quaking body and began to tease and twist her nipples to see the reaction of total surrender in her face and acceptance of my control over her – she was turning into a jellyfish. "Yes sir, I am ashamed to admit I play with those." "Make her spell it out and say what THOSE are," I tugged her nipples hard to get the girl's attention. "Titties, nipples, I play with my titties Sir" she admitted like it was half delightful and half a surprise to her to hear herself say it. I would offer them some of the prolactin and oxytocin medication we had put the girls on. We had a large supply and if Mom and Jamie were only going to do this for another week they wouldn't need it any longer. I was kind of surprised they were still taking the pills considering they never agreed to it and didn't need them to continue whoring. I think they had just become used to it. "Give your sister one of these each day as a vitamin. It will make her nipples very supple and sensitive, fatten them up so that when she plays with them you will hear her moan and can catch her more easily." I saw a smile cross Delilah's lips when she heard me. I have to admit her white-alert game was turning me on tremendously and I was impressed she was so open in front of not only me and my dad but her brothers and Aunt. It was so taboo yet so kinky. She seemed to be in her own little world as she played with herself – I needed to bring her back to ours a bit. "Do you play with your asshole when you are alone?" I asked calmly as I released pressure on her nipples even though I could sense she was not ready for me to stop. "No sir," she said without hesitation. I could see she was very shy about having her asshole touched and it was a very new thing to her. My mom and sister had been that way when this began – neither of them saw the intrusion as welcome and necessary. They didn't see it in any way pleasant and probably still didn't – but they grew to accept it as necessary after hours of affirmations and persistence – so would Delilah. "Dad, do you remember when Jamie used to pretend she didn't play with her asshole so she could do it only in private?" I completely made up a story and my dad agreed to it. "I've never seen a slut that doesn't enjoy her asshole played with." I began to finger fuck the girl's ass and found it to be very tight – it might be the first time it had been penetrated. I took my finger away and leaned close and spit right on it. "If she is resistant and holding her asshole tight when you try to test her or give her an enema, you should spit right on it!" I said to the cheers of 'cool!' from the boys who were now apparently my number one fans. I told them they would need to tell her what to play with when they instructed her to masturbate. "If you tell her to only play with her asshole and you catch her sneaking over to the pussy then," I didn't get to finish before Ezekial demonstrated with a furious swat with the ruler what he would do in that case. "Good job," I rubbed my hand over his ginger colored crew cut to show my approval. He smiled up at me like I was his long lost father, returned to play football with my prodigal son. "We get to put our finger right up her butthole?" Gordon asked. His tone implied he could not believe his good fortune. In part I can totally relate to that. I could not believe my good fortune when I started training my sister and mother. I found myself testing them just to see if they would stop and tell me I had gone too far but the further I pushed the further they bent for me. I am not the same guy I was three weeks ago. I seldom thought this deeply about anything because I had very little reason to – the world was much simpler to me. I knew Delilah was an excellent actress and manipulator. She could switch between a honeyed-southern belle to a vixen on a dime – her performance under white alert was flawless. I could not help to believe she was definitely getting off on what she was doing by the way she mewed and cooed while frigging herself. "Yes, you can and must from now on Gordon," I told him. "But she farts from there!" he insisted back. I would have thought he was grossed out by that from his tone had I not heard him and his brothers make fart jokes about my mom and sister for the last three weeks straight anytime I heard them whispering from the other side of the fence. "That she does and let me tell you as one brother to another – you will get used to the smell of sister farts. My sister's farts smell kind of like warm parmesan cheese." I teased to the boys who feigned disgust with faces that read 'tell us more'. "She didn't like me digging around her asshole any more than Salome' will," I could see Gordon was looking at Mrs. Waxerman for approval of what I was saying. I wanted to give some biblical precedent or wisdom to explain but I did not have too. "If Mr. Taylor's son says you have to do it then stop complaining about it Gordon, he knows what he is talking about," Mrs. Waxerman gave me the approval I needed instead. I was an 'expert' in her estimation because of how effectively we had trained the women of our house and I was flattered she thought so - It had all felt like a happy accident but maybe we were experts after all. "You don't want to abuse your authority now Gordon," I lied - I love abusing mine. I especially loved that somehow my mom and sister took away a lesson that I had never intended to teach when I did. They looked at my disgusting jokes and humor as some kind of sympathetic way to help them cope with an impossible situation and honestly sometimes a disgusting joke is just a joke. I slipped a finger up the girl's tight asshole – it was resistant but eventually I filled her sphincter completely. I wasn't used to that – My sister and mother had learned to relax their sphincter and let me do what I wanted. My finger fit up her ass like OJ's isotoner glove was around it – extra tight. "She is resistant to it and tightening up her ass but you'll just have to keep at it until she accepts it," I smirked and played around with her asshole. "You want to drive your finger up and in and then wriggle it around before you let her shit to make sure she has to go. Then you will want to do it again after you see her finish and make sure she has gotten it all out so she won't waste your time asking to go again 20 minutes later. I suggest you only give her a time limit of three minutes when you take her to the bathroom." I gave the boy's some pointers – after all, we would be leaving after this weekend and I was an 'expert'. "She has to lick it clean?" Gordon still could not believe his luck. "Yes, as your Aunt reminded us in the book of Corinthians a woman's role is not to teach or instruct men. We are men – and we are the instructors. The woman's mouth is not for instructing, her EARS are for learning" I removed my finger from the girl's juicy tight bottom with a satisfying plop. "That leaves her mouth free for sucking and swallowing instead of talking," I inserted my finger into her mouth again. At first she was resistant as I rubbed my finger on the outside of her lip to let her know it was not going anywhere until she finished. Then she opened her mouth and started to lick her finger. I loved how she seemed so conflicted – her resistance made my dick hard. "So Delilah, I mean Salome'" Gordon was wrestling with the new version of his sister that was unfolding before him. "She has to lick my finger even if it's been up my own butthole?" he asked seriously while his brothers laughed. "Why would you have your finger up your own butthole?" I looked at him realizing that they may not have grasped my lessons as well as I thought. "I am not saying I would but if I did then does she?" Gordon clarified as if this were a perfectly reasonable question. "Gordon does put his finger up his own butthole!" Jimmy announced like a tattle-tail. "Do not!" Gordon punched his brother in the shoulder hard. "Do too, I saw you in the bedroom!" Jimmy replied and returned the punch. "What you looking for, are you homo?" Gordon returned the punch and then I broke them up. "If you have anything on your finger that needs cleaning- whether snot is running down your nose or you've had your finger up someone's butt then you have your sink right here." I returned my finger to the girl's mouth to demonstrate. I said "You'll want to try to depress the tongue and get the finger back as far as her tonsils if you can," I was checking the girl's gag reflex as I explained. "OH GAwwwwdddd," Delilah called out in hung ecstasy while she frigged herself. She has small teeth – like they were still her baby teeth and when she bit her lip you could see just the hint of the white ivory of a snaggle tooth emerge. "Yes God, let's all turn our eyes to him" I didn't want to blaspheme but I had not been struck by lightning yet. "In your affirmations it would be good to make her recite scriptures that are applicable," We didn't do that with our girls but I lied and said we do it every time – which was another 1,000 point flashing award lighting up over Mrs. Waxerman's head when she heard that. "Tell them the tale of Salome'" I insisted like I already knew it and just wanted to know if she knew it. Every time I heard the name I thought of Salami and that made me hungry. Every time I looked at her wet juicy pussy I became hungry for pussy so while I was curious I was also extremely horny AND hungry at this point. "Can I straighten up Sir? I will continue playing with myself!" She declared in that honeyed southern drawl of hers. "Why is it uncomfortable the way you are doing it?" I chuckled as I looked at the girl with her nose just above the shag of our carpet, legs spread wide and bent over in my living room on full display. "Yes sir," she admitted with a pout. "Good!" I slapped her hard on the ass to the delight of the boys and even Mrs. Waxerman. "It isn't supposed to be a picnic for you anymore you hussy and jezebel! You think Satan's clutches around you are comfortable?" I had no idea what I was talking about but it sounded good and I seemed to be baffling everyone with my bullshit. "No sir," she breathed out and in rapidly as she continued to frig her knob for us in the same position. "You'll learn to do it this way so you can be observed and it may become easier – when it does your brothers or Aunt will come up with a less comfortable position in order for you not to take pleasure in your training as you clearly do now!" I smacked her ass again and demanded she stop stalling and tell us the tale of Salome'. "Salome the disciple witness to the Crucifixion of Jesus in Mark 15:40?" she asked. "Heathen child!" Mrs. Waxerman was about to reach for the ruler when she thought twice of it and bid Ezekial give her a slap. He gave her a satisfying welt on the ass cheek and she seemed impressed. "Salome the disciple is apocrypha, you are studying the forbidden texts. A woman cannot be a disciple of Jesus!" "No Ma'am, Daddy made me read it before he went away," I wondered what the story was behind their parents anyway. I wondered how bad they had to be if Mrs. Waxerman had been a better alternative. "Tell the story of your namesake girl, before you try my patience further," Mrs. Waxerman for her part had been nodding and letting me instruct her sons but in matters of the bible she could clearly not be silent. Salome was the uh-mmmm daughter of King Herod," she clearly was having trouble concentrating. "Salome danced the dance of seven veils before the King and her mother Herodias at the occasion of his birthday at her mother's order. Salome was a vixen of lust who was fascinated with John the Baptist but her mother wanted him dead and when the King became so inflamed of lust he granted Salome one request for her manipulations – the head of John the Baptist to fulfill her mother's desire for revenge against him for scorning her over Salome'." I am going to have to read this Bible some time – It really sounds like the Jerry Springer of the ancient time. "Why do you think your Aunt has forbidden you the name Delilah and made you answer to Salome?" I told the boys that affirmations would make girls think and this was a question I thought would definitely do that. "She wants to humble me before Christ by making me bear the name of the greatest harlot of the Bible. My mother chose Delilah because she cut the hair of Samson to make him weak because she knew I would grow up to be like her – a temptress, however even she dared not give me the most despised name of the Bible." That seemed like a good answer and I shrugged "Be thankful you don't have a name like Cow tits or Ass face, those are the ones we gave my mom and Jamie" I laughed. "You will still refer to them as Mrs. Taylor and Jamie respectfully. Those are vulgar names!" Mrs. Waxerman instructed the giggling boys. "I wish you wouldn't" My dad had been standing there, arms folded doing his strong silent type routine. "They are vulgar girls in a vulgar world, so they need a vulgar name and not the pretense of civility and politeness of being proper when they aint". My dad had perfected the trifecta of using a big word like pretense while slipping an 'aint' into a condemnation of his wife and daughter – in short he had just gave Mrs. Waxerman a Waxergasm. "Fine, you shall call them those vulgar names but you really should stay away from those temptresses anyway, no offense Mr. Taylor" Mrs. Waxerman deferred to him – Dad was now her new favorite person next to Jesus I think. "Can we give Salome' a name like that? She is vulgar aint she?" Ezekial asked. "What name would you give her?" I asked as the girl masturbated with her legs spread before the boys. In the infinite number of cuss words and disgusting names they could literally pick any and it would work. "Fartybutt!" Gordon announced without hesitation as if he had that name prepared for her all along and was excited to shout it out. "Yes! Fartybutt!" Jimmy and Ezekial agreed. I looked at Mrs. Waxerman to see her reaction. I raised my eyebrow like Mister Spock trying to understand human behavior in anticipation of her inevitable response. "Fine, but you will refer to her as Salome at church or when I have visitors for bridge," she agreed after giving it a moment's thought to the cheering boys. "You guys sure like to talk about farts a lot," I shook my head in disbelief. "Is that name meaningful? Does your sister fart a lot or something?" I wanted to point out that my mom was Cow-tits because of the pendulous, heaving breasts full of milk and Jamie was ass-face ironically because her face was like an angel and we wanted to take her down a peg. "Not sure, she never farted around us before," Gordon seemed confused that I would ask such a question after he scored a victory with choosing it. He seemed perplexed that any further discussion was even necessary. I could not help but smile that these boys could look at this slicked and well lubricated pussy and ass in front of them and think about farts. I guess when I first started this with my sister I did the same thing – I enjoyed it but I tried not to over sexualize and sensualize it. It took me a while to evolve into someone who could separate who they were as my close family members that I've known all my life and who they were now as my sexual subjects and property under my control. "What about a name that is more fitting and appropriate like 'Sexy-cunt' or 'Peach tits'? I tried to think of something derogatory about Delilah but I genuinely thought she was sexy as all hell – something so authentic about this little country girl that plastic-city girls did not have. She was the kind of girl that Daniel Boone would have taken to the log cabin and raised eight babies while fighting off Indian invasions – at least that is how she looked to me. The boys dismissed my suggestion out of hand and repeated 'Farty Butt!'. I could see from the look on Delilah's face that she did not like that one bit – even for white alert it would be hard to hide. "Well it is your sister and we are moving anyway so I guess you should name her," I shrugged. I could see from the look on her face as the boys started to make farting noises in anticipation of her coming under their dominion that she was disgusted but she continued to masturbate herself with a look of increasing determination mixed with a resignation that she would be doing this frequently. "One of the most important things you can do in disciplining your sister is to have fun with it," I agreed with the cheering boys. "If you start to feel bad for her you'll have sympathy for her situation," I was genuinely starting to feel like perhaps we had gone too far today. Delilah had hinted that she was under white alert and was going along with this for whatever twisted reason she might have, but had I just escalated things well beyond where she wanted them? "Salome?" I asked but was quickly corrected by Gordon "Farty Butt, I mean, that is your new name. You like what your brothers chose for you?" There was silence as she frigged herself and before Gordon could pop her once with the ruler that the boys had been fighting over she said dejectedly "Not really, no Sir" her finger had slowed its methodic rotation around her clit as well. "You see boys, your sister does not like the name you chose for her," I said sympathetically. They looked at the ground defeated. "That is why it seems like the most appropriate name," I smiled and added "If she enjoyed it then she would learn nothing from it. Is that not right Mrs. Waxerman?" "Tell them what 2 Corinthians 12:7 says Salome'" Mrs. Waxerman refused to refer to her as farty butt even at her nephews' insistence – she was simply too sanctimonious and proper to dignify the name with utterance from her own lips. She thought about it and then recited the verse "Therefore, in order to keep me from becoming conceited, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me." Nodding her head in understanding. It at first surprised me that she could quote the bible so well and that anyone would waste that much time studying it to have that memorized. Then I realized I could pretty much quote any Star Wars, Star Trek, or Monty Python skit verbatim – I just had a different focus. "What about 2 Timothy 2:3 -join with me in suffering like a good soldier of Jesus Christ, Ma'am?" Salome' offered in response to her Aunt. Her Aunt was quiet while the girl slowly frigged herself and then turned to Gordon "Give farty butt my answer." Gordon, delighted to be asked, obliged with a solid flat-spanking of the ruler across his sister's rosy-red ass. "What about Peter 4:20 of the Word?" I asked with a churlish smile and then added "Oh had you not heard? The bird is in fact the word." I was about to break into a rousing rendition of "Well-a-well-a-don't you know, everybody's heard the bird is the word' when my father elbowed me to cool it. "Forgive my son, he can easily be distracted," My dad chimed in. He was well interested in this girl but he also knew that in a few hours the sale would be starting and he had things to do with my mom. "I understand as can mine and I fear that they will delight in the torment, but not in the lesson that is being shared with my wayward Niece who I had come to think of as a daughter. It is now clear to me that I doted on her as a favorite when I should have been preparing the boys for their ascent to manhood. Farty butt, do you agree that I spoiled you and you took advantage of my generous nature?" I was shocked to hear the old shrew say the words 'farty butt'. She had learned diction after she left hog-wallow or whatever mountain-hovel she had grown up in and delivered the words with the kind of class of a Hellen Mirran mixed with a little of the self-righteousness of Tammy Faye Baker but the underlying down-home quality of a Paula Dean. "Yes Ma'am, I guess I did and I apologize, I really do. I don't want to have to do this anymore, I will be good." She pleaded. "Shall I believe a temptress who can dance the dance of the seven veils and accept her apology or remind her that the scripture Chris was talking about was 1 Peter 4:12 do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal that has come on you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. Exekial read the next verse from memory out loud to add "In the same way, you who are younger, submit yourselves to your elders. All of you, clothe yourselves with humility toward one another, because... " he seemed to forget the rest. Gordon smacked him with the ruler and finished the passage for him "God opposes the proud." "That is why you must help your sister to shed her pride and behave as a slut," I explained. Mrs. Waxerman's eyes burned through me with anger until I added "Because she is just a slut anyway, like my sister, and the only way to cure her of it is to make her smoke a carton of cigarettes" I continued the metaphor from earlier about being caught smoking and having to learn your lesson by smoking a carton in one sitting. "Where are we going to get a carton of cigarettes at though?" Gordon asked dumbly. "No, that is not what I mean," I clarified for the kid but saw he didn't get it. "You are going to cure her of her misbehavior by making her do it openly in front of you a lot and making it unpleasant to do, do you understand?" "Yes sir, but when does she smoke cigarettes?" Gordon said revealing he had no idea what I meant. I needed to show him an example. "Here, you must be tired from standing up around this slut, have a seat guys." I bid them to sit on our couch. We were going to lose it soon enough anyway. "Salome'" I corrected myself "Farty butt you may stop masturbating yourself," I ordered. She seemed relieved and at the same time reluctant – amazing acting for white alert. I wondered if she was dehydrated from all the juice that had dripped down from her wet pussy the entire time she had been playing with herself. "Clean your slit with your finger if you want a drink," I ordered and she looked right at me with her pretty blue eyes and lifted a finger to her mouth without taking her eyes off of me. I wondered what must be going through her head right now – if I had masturbated that long I would be ready for a nap but there was a smoldering in her eyes – a fire. "Get over here and show your brothers the dance of the seven veils that you are famous for," I ordered. She looked at me confused and I almost saw a tear welling up in her eye but I knew better than to fall for crocodile tears as she shook her head no. "I don't know how it is done," she added "Sir" with a crack in her voice. "You are going to dance for the men as if you are trying to convince us to give you John the Baptist's head on a platter – as a temptress I am sure working our laps is going to come very natural to you." She stood up and shook her arms slightly to get the blood flowing "Thank you Sir for permitting me to stand up," I said. "Sir?" she asked. "That is what you should say when your brothers give you permission to get out of that position – now dance. She glided towards me reluctantly and said 'There is no music' as she stood in front of me. I smirked at her because she had a genuine look of concern on her face about her lack of music more than her vanity. I overlooked her forgetting to say "Sir" because after all, this was white-alert anyway, but then I wondered if she had wanted me to call her out on it and punish her. Jamie and Mom would do that sometimes – at least I think they did when they forgot their protocol in the heat of the moment around Mrs. Waxerman and then they would beg for forgiveness and punishment. That is fucking best. I love it. I grinned at Salome' – I was so impressed with how good of a sport she was being and thrilled by her willingness to commit to her role. I still can't get over the fact she had been here for what was probably thirty minutes and I got her undressed and from the door to the floor. It took much longer to get my mom and sis that way – well, I guess I can't even take credit for that one. They pretty much did that to themselves. "Dance for Jimmy and I'll turn something on," I volunteered to walk over to the stereo we had played for mom earlier. When I had my back turned, the one I called Jimmy told me his name was Ezekial – I never can keep their names straight. I think I associate them like I would a single person – and not three individuals. "Why does the way of the wicked prosper? Why are all they at ease and thriving who deal very treacherously and deceitfully?" Mrs. Waxerman seemed to be quoting another biblical scripture rhetorically for everyone to consider. My Dad answered anyway "We are doing our best to make sure the womenfolk of this family do not prosper in wickedness, I am glad you are doing the same." There was a 'ding' of appreciation that lit up in Salome's face right before I flicked the switch on the stereo so she could dance. The awkward silence had been difficult for me – I can only imagine what it's like to stand there naked with your brother holding your hands on the couch. The music that came on was a bouncy rap song – perfect for booty clapping and shaking around. I'm goin down down baby, yo' street in a Range Rover (c'mon) Street sweeper baby, cocked ready to let it go (HOT SHIT!) Shimmy shimmy cocoa what? Listen to it pound Light it up and take a puff, pass it to me now I'm goin down down baby, yo' street in a Range Rover Street sweeper baby, cocked ready to let it go Shimmy shimmy cocoa what? Listen to it pound Light it up and take a puff, pass it to me now That is as far as the rap song got before I noticed everyone looking at me with their mouths hanging open. The boys had been shielded from rap and even my Dad looked at me as if I were crazy picking this song. I will admit I was sort of popping and locking to myself for more than an extra-long second before I noticed how this song did not fit the needs of the audience. The boys were probably raised on Mayberry and TV land if they watched TV at all. They were more white bread Americana than my sister - and she looks like an extra sister from the Brady Bunch. I will admit I've grown a bunch since this whole thing started and began thinking in ways I never would have before – but I guess I still like to fuck up every now and then. I don't make the same mistake twice. I make it six or seven times to be sure – lol. Anyway, all kidding aside I stopped snapping my fingers and shrugged. "Oops My bad," I said as I pointed out "My mom was dancing naked in the window to this station this morning," and left out the part about me making her do it and picking the station. "Uncouth and vulgar!" Mrs. Waxerman made a face like she just smelled a fart -worse than her usual expression when she heard the music. "If you don't want yours to turn out like her, then you should make her dance to something like this," I crossed my fingers that the next song would appeal to them. I was lucky – it was a Country station. At first they didn't recognize the song and listened to the bubbly, country beat. It seemed a little too fast to do anything sexy too. I was about to change the station when I saw Salome' smile broadly at the backwoods, country tune. She excitedly took Jimmy's hands as she leaned over him to start dancing. Baby you a song You make me wanna roll my windows down and cruise Hey baby Yeah, when I first saw that bikini top on her She's poppin' right out of the South Georgia water Thought, "Oh, good lord, she had them long tanned legs" Couldn't help myself so I walked up and said Baby you a song You make me wanna roll my windows down and cruise Down a back road blowin' stop signs through the middle Every little farm town with you In this brand new Chevy with a lift kit Would look a hell of a lot better with you up in it So baby you a song You make me wanna roll my windows down and cruise She was sippin' on southern and singin' Marshall Tucker We were falling in love in the sweet heart of summer She hopped right up into the cab of my truck and said "Fire it up, let's go get this thing stuck" She was grinning like she was having fun and dancing for him playfully lying across his body. He tickled her sides with his fingers but she was able to take his hands in hers and pull them over his head to control the dance. She was definitely a natural little lap dancer because she turned around and faced her cute rosy-pink dumpling ass towards him, bent over, and then dunked her head so that her hair whipped forward and across her back. I thought Mrs. Waxerman might declare it 'frivolity' and put a stop to it like some elder Christian in Dirty Dancing. I think she just liked to look stern and condemning but like Statler and Waldorf, the two old men who complain about the Muppets from the balcony, they are back again every week even though they pretend to hate the show. Just like those Muppets, I believe she has a stick up her butt that keeps her there but that is a metaphor for another time. I directed her to the next brother on the couch so she could finish before the song was up. They seemed to be having fun and she gave me a 'Y'all come over here' sweeping hand gesture to get on the couch and receive my own lap dance. I thought the polite thing to do was refuse but she didn't take no for an answer – she took my hand and pulled me down on the couch as the boys made room for my fat ass. Then she gave me an extra-heaping helping of country-pussy in my face. I am always impressed by cheerleaders and girls in general who can dance fast like this for a long time. I can't and don't even see the fun of it – but I sure do like to watch them do it. I guess that is what made someone decide 'cheer-leading' could be a sport. "Yeah, okay so you put on a little skirt and go jump around and we watch you" "Uh, how is that a sport? What are the teams and points?" said the first cheer-leader to the guy who thought it up. "Don't ask so many questions, men are playing football. Now when they do, your sport is to jump around and shake your butts-vigorously. The more you shake around the more we win somehow." Said the guy in response and that is how cheer-leading was invented. When the song ended the DJ came on and started talking which seemed to kill the mood. There had been this spontaneous happiness that had spread over everyone while she danced and that had lightened the mood from before. "So that is the dance of the seven veils everybody," I laughed and stood up. I had a mega-chubby in my pants and everyone noticed. The boys pointed and giggled. Mrs. Waxerman gave me the stink eye and Delilah looked at me with a twinkle in her eye. I had almost wondered if Delilah was trying to get me to stop the white alert but this last dance told me she wanted me to proceed with her little game. I guess I could do that – I mean twist my arm, right? After all, in a few days we wouldn't be here anymore and she wouldn't have this opportunity with me so I might as well. "This?" I pointed to my boner protruding happily in my pants. "It's baig," Salome' was impressed and the exaggerated, countrified way she said 'big' made me feel 'extra-baig'. I had thought some bump and grind or booty stripper music would have set the right tone but I was glad for the happy accident of that hillbilly-rocking country tune. It had changed the vibe in the room and she was smiling and breathing heavily from the goofiness of the dance she gave her brother and me. She reached over to touch it with her hands and stroke it playfully– it was the sexiest move I've seen since I watched the movie Showgirls with that girl from Saved by the Bell on Netflix. That was a stroke movie and a half! I slapped her hand as she reached for me. I wanted her to grab my dick – and that is the understatement of a lifetime. I wanted her to take it out and suck it on her knees right here in front of Mrs. Waxerman and then I wanted to fuck her so hard she called my name –and called me Master. I was as committed to my role as she was hers though. I was the dutiful son who is helping his neighbor's take in hand an unruly girl and I knew it sent the wrong message if I just stood there and let her feel me up. "I already ignored you calling me Sir once," she probably didn't even realize she had forgotten to say it when she told me there was no music after I ordered her to dance. I held up a finger in her stunned face and said "ONCE!" "Look how you repay that kindness! You lustfully reach for my cock to try to seduce me? You truly earned the name Salome'!" She had this look on her face of vulnerability –like I was betraying her or making her confused by sending mixed signals. She is an incredible actress – and I have to admit that it turned me on. Then again watching a cross-eyed chick with big blue eyes give a blowjob like a big, dumb, blonde on Redtube turns me on - I probably have weird tastes. I just love that stupid look they give as they hurl the cock down their throat and gulp it and then when they pull up and you can see their big dumb eyes cross back – hot. I ordered her to "Bend over right here, right now and hold your cheeks as far apart as you can!" then I turned and walked away without watching to see if she did it or not. I went to the kitchen and found some ben-gay and handcuffs. "Dad, I know we are selling our stuff, but the Waxerman's need our help and that would be neighborly. You don't mind if I give them a few things do you? To help them with this little unrepentant cock-tease?" My Dad chuckled that he was in full agreement and I could see a glint of approval in his eye. This was a fun distraction for us both. We were so used to rubbing mom and Jamie's nose in the dirt it was a refreshing change to do this to another girl. I think it was also refreshing because the little freckle-faced country girl was so obviously a strong-willed, tough little tom-boy and not a push-over yet there she stood with her legs apart, naked and bent over holding her ass cheeks apart in front of her family. "Did I tell you that you could face AWAY from the couch?" I asked as I returned to the living room. I was energized to give her a good intimidating slap but before I could get to where she was she turned back to face her ass right at her brothers on the couch and answered with a meek and mewling 'yes sir'. "You have suddenly developed a little bit of shame and modesty since I went to the kitchen, did you?" I demanded as I took a tube of ben-gay in my hand and dabbed some on my finger." She mumbled something. I asked her "What was that?" "Philippians 2:14; Do ALL things without murmuring and disputing," Mrs. Waxerman chided her niece. Salome' gave me an agreeable yes sir in response after that. "Yes, ALL things without murmuring and disputing from your betters," I slathered a little on my finger and rubbed it on the girl's asshole –causing her to jump a little from the coldness of the cream. "You will want to apply this to her when she gets a little too hot and bothered," I told the boys and Mrs. Waxerman. "I am going to leave you this cream but I am sure your Aunt has some things better than store-bought Ben-Gay in her country remedies". Mrs. Waxerman was already nodding her head in acceptance. "My mom isn't as knowledgeable about things like that so we are stuck with city cures," I tried to sound like a hill-billy but it sounded like I was mocking them so I stopped. Then I stroked Salome's soft brown hair and said "We were all having fun, and the mood was lightened when we were listening to the music but you had to go and ruin it by grabbing for my dick, why is that?" I could see a real fire in her eyes as she stared up at me while bending over and holding her cheeks apart. She really hated me for this one. Then again if she hated me and what I was doing and wasn't acting she could stand up at any time and refuse. It is not like she really HAD to be obedient. "The reason is because you are cock crazy like my sister and mom but I think Mrs. Waxerman's watchful eye may have caught you JUST in time," I grinned. Then I turned to the boys "In a moment she is going to start dancing around, so go ahead each of you and slather some on her lady parts. God gave women sensitive lady parts so they could be easily influenced by them." I wasn't sure if that was in the Bible but from what I had heard it sounded like it probably should be. They didn't dispute it – they held out their fingers and let me give them each a dab. Ezekial worked more of it onto her butt with a grin and a 'I can't believe I get to do this!' expression on his face. His brother Gordon applied the cream around her soaked pussy and the lips itself. I showed him how to lift the clit hood and get it right under there. He seemed grossed out by how wet and slippery it was but I assured him it was fine. Lastly, Jimmy came around to her front and applied it to her lips. I told him "Good idea, I would not have thought of that." Wondering if it would do any good. I added "Go ahead and get some on her nipples." He obliged and asked "Won't she just rub it off?" "Good point, that brings me to my other gift. This is the first pair of handcuffs I used on my sister," I held up the clanky metal toy cuffs. I had busted the safety latch off the side that allows a person locked in them to pop them off easily. Then I pulled the poor country girl's hands up and behind her back and cuffed her with them. "You will want to keep your sister cuffed when she is not playing with herself in front of you or doing her chores." "Even when doing prayers?" Ezekial asked incredulously. I thought about that for a minute. I really had no opinion on the matter. My dad helped me out "We keep our girls cuffed when they pray because otherwise they will offend Jesus by touching their selves when they pray." "That is true," I totally lied. We weren't very religious and I honestly had no idea what my father's spiritual beliefs are. I made a mental note to ask him some time. Salome' had just started to become aware of the burning tingle of the ben gay on her body. I could sense it in her manner that she was resisting the urge to hop around – it would do her no good anyway to extinguish the sensation she was about to have. "Then we will do as the Taylor's do on this matter when it is time for prayer and reflection in the house," Mrs. Waxerman said decidedly. "What about around outside and such? How can she climb trees and play?" Gordon sounded somewhat naïve and even feeling sympathy for his older sister. I wondered if I hadn't gone too far until he slapped her ass when she started to murmur and writhe around. "Oh, here are an old pair of my mom's panties," I reached into the slut-box in the living room where we kept the girl's clothes. It was almost completely barren as we had taken everything clean to the motel. I stuffed them into Salome's mouth. "You don't want her to be able to bite her tongue or start spewing vulgarities, she should blow in a minute," I predicted. I had made my sister and mom dance and twist this way many times over the last week – it was a very enjoyable show. Salome' started to wriggle in place – almost in pleasure and then she bolted upright in shock. Her bright blue eyes no longer a fire of resistance but now replaced with an expression of panic. She started to dance around – I love it when they do that. It is as if they think they can somehow get rid of the fire on their ass if only they wiggle it enough. "You can also use Icy Hot," I explained. "Icy hot is an analgesic. It reduces the pain someone is feeling. The theory is pretty simple. Pain comes to your brain on a certain type of fiber in your nerves. The hot and cold comes into your brain on the spinal cord on a different type of nerve. The hot and cold nerve when stimulated synapses on the pain nerve and prevents the pain information from getting to your brain. Therefore, you don't feel any pain." I explained. I had Wikipedia on my phone so it made me sound like I was expert when I needed to be. They all looked at each other as if I had just spoken Latin to them. As Salome's ass began to wiggle and buck I pointed and explained "In other words, it won't hurt her but it makes her shake her ass like this." Which brought back the giggles and pointing fingers as they watched their sister undulate in torment as the cold and heat sensations triggered various nerve endings in her brain and sent back the reply to 'dance motherfucker, dance!' "Oh your question about in public? Well, here" I threw my mom's clothes at the kid who asked me the question – I think it was Gordon but I really couldn't give a shit to remember exactly who it was. "You will make sure she is dressed in as few clothes as possible so she can't hide anything and so it's apparent what her shame is – so no one can mistake her for someone respectable like her Aunt or you boys." I was piling on the bullshit while watching this teenage girl's tits flap up and down as she hopped and pleaded. The look in her eyes had gone from panic to pleading to make it stop. It was delicious when it gets to that phase in the process. I smiled at her torment while continuing to explain. "I always cuffed my sister when I took her to the bus stop, with her hands behind her or in front carrying something for me. They can be discrete that way," I explained. The boy's looked somewhat intimidated by their sister and seemed reluctant to go that far. "You don't want her to slap you do you?" I asked and they naturally shook their heads no. "Then you will want to keep her cuffed so she can't most of the time. If she gets a free hand she may pop you one. Here you have the key, don't lose it. If you are going to go play in the woods with her, you probably just want to cuff her to a tree until you are done, but you will have to use your best judgment." "What about in church and such?" Jimmy the oldest one asked. He was giggling at his sister and pretending it was fairly normal while she started to thrash around and hop. She was trying to spit her gag out so she could scream. I reached up and stuffed the panties all the way back in after she managed to spit it part of the way out. "You'll want to keep an eye on her to make she doesn't choke or accidentally drop the gag," I laughed with no remorse at the helpless girl's suffering. Mrs. Waxerman looked at me intently for a good answer. I didn't have one and I looked at my Dad. He smiled at my handoff and spoke up. "That is an excellent question, Jimmy." Jimmy smiled at my dad's approval and acknowledgement. "Good Christians would indeed be offended by a nasty girl like your sister, I am sorry to tell you that. However, only the bad ones would ever engage in rumors and condemnations. Your Aunt will tell you she is the last one to engage in gossip and criticizing others," he nodded at her and she nodded rather sanctimoniously back. "So the only one who would say anything about it is probably a person of little faith. You may have to explain that it is a phase your sister is going through and that she is being shamed into behaving appropriately - Ask them to have a little patience." Jimmy held up the half-top my mom wore the night before and stutteringly read the words "I Heart Black Cock?" when he realized what he said – he dropped the shirt in his lap and covered his mouth. "My mom does love black cock, my sister has a matching one they insist on wearing." I lied. "They wear theirs to church. You can have that one though and we'll just drive mom to work naked in the back of the truck, not a biggie."I nodded at my father and he smiled at me in agreement. "What church would allow, I mean what church does Mrs. Taylor attend?" Mrs. Waxerman ignored her nieces muffled cries and obscene dances while her hands were cuffed behind her. "She uh," I had to make something up quickly – what if it was the same one Mrs. Waxerman went too? "She goes to Deacon Dan's church." "Deacon Dan?" she pressed her hand to her chest as if to calm her restless heart over the very idea. "As your father says I am not one to gossip, but he was defrocked and laicized as a minister at Fist of God Assembly and his rights removed to exercise the functions of the ordained ministry! How could she be attending at HIS Church?" she looked at me skeptically. Already, the wild ride that Salome' had been on was slowing down and she got herself under control and began to calm herself as the Ben-gay's initial discomfort and stimulation subsided. I looked at my father for help because I did not want to get caught in a lie and ruin this fun we were having. "Dad, has mom been lying to us about going?" I asked. "Sorry Mrs. Waxerman," My dad said slowly. "You know my son is a bit slow some times," he smiled at me as he delivered the insult. I tried to keep from making a goofy face because I knew he respected me. He might not have before we started this training with the girls but he did now. "First, I'd appreciate it if you would call my wife Cow tits, and not give her the respect of Mrs. Taylor, it just sounds vulgar when you refer to her as a lady like yourself," My Dad's slow-southern accent voice kicked in and it seemed to inflate his authority and the esteem she held him in. She nodded acquiescence to his wishes without hesitation. "Naturally, I do not gossip but you know that Dan's wife left him and I think he lost his daughter too?" He asked. "Yes, he was accused of being unseemly with teenage girls at the youth ministry!" she had all the dirt and more on his wife and daughter's departure in disgrace from the church. "I don't understand anyone who would take advantage of a teenage girl like that," My Dad almost laughed as he added "Son, can you spank your sister's ass until she calms down and gets back in position?" to the boys. They almost fell over themselves to be the one to spank her all three slapping at her bare-ass cheeks until she finished shaking around and bent over. "Should we uncuff her?" Gordon hedped up the key to ask my father. "Son, use a little common sense," My Dad said "I am talking to another adult, now use your sister's example about not showing respect and unless you want to end up like her – think!" he held his finger up to the temple of his forehead. The boy continued to look at him dumbfounded and my father added "Unless you want her to hold her ass cheeks apart or play with herself, then no." He finally told the boy straight before finishing his story. "So Deacon Dan started a church downtown on Martin Luther King jr. Boulevard but naturally because I do not gossip I did not know he was not an OFFICIAL Deacon any longer," I could hear in the subtext of my father's voice that he also had no idea what an official deacon could actually do or that there was anything that made it official other than calling yourself one. "We'll have to ask your mother if she has been going there as an excuse to fuck the other parishioners," My dad reminded and I nodded. The boys were thrilled at my father's use of an obviously forbidden cuss word to them. "We don't say that word, we say fornicate, Mister Taylor" Mrs. Waxerman instructed while giving my father a cold stare – how easily one can fall from her good graces. "Well I am sorry Ma'am, my wife has fornicated a lot of men, and if you see it as often as I do it is a lot shorter just to say fuck." My Dad replied plainly and unapologetically – the boys laughed that he had a snappy response to her statement. "It is your house Mister Taylor and under your roof, I completely understand that the morals and standards are much lower than ours," her boys giggling was muffled as they heard the old dingbat fire another broadside of reprobation at my dad. I only know the word reprobation because the old dingbat fires off fancy words like she does her disapproval. Her unjust condemnation just rolled off his back. I think a few weeks ago he might have cared what the old dingbat thought but he just grinned. He had wanted her to get that impression – that was what white alert was all about. I think as long as she is not in on the joke it continues to be funny even if we have to let her mock us in the process. "We'll check into whether or not Deacon Dan allows my wife to roam around free or he has caught her masturbating around the Church, fair enough Ma'am?" My Dad found that one way you could beat Mrs. Waxerman was to graciously accept her stern gaze and just give in. When you stand up to her she only blows harder and sucks wind longer. "And what church home do you attend for fellowship, Mr. Taylor?" The old ladies question was laced with the suspicion that he did not attend church at all. "You know I wish I did have time to attend church, but between caring for my son and keeping the womenfolk out of trouble and on the straight and narrow, why I just don't have time for Sunday school, Ma'am" my Dad may have laid it on fairly thick with his accent and pretense that he was simply too busy to attend church instead of his desire to watch football and sleep in. "The Lord's day is the Sabbath, Mr. Taylor which is a Saturday, but barring that I see no reason you cannot set aside whatever you are doing that you cannot attend the Lord's instruction and give tithe and contrition as instructed by our holy father." She was giving my father an order not a suggestion by her tone. "Well I agree with you Ma'am, you are right," those words are usually only said sarcastically to Mrs. Waxerman when she complains at restaurants and grocery stores by the manager of whatever employee she finds fault with. "I would like to attend your Church, the Fist of God Assembly," he almost chuckled on the name of the church but he kept it together. "My concern was really to your good reputation that if as your neighbors we attend how it would reflect on you that my wife and daughter are such openly unrepentant whores and by association with you if it would reflect on your impeccable name –especially given your own trials and tribulations with this one." My dad teased the girl's nipple with a pinch for emphasis. The boys had completely tuned out of the conversation and were playing grab-ass with their sister. They would pinch or try to slap and she would wiggle out of the way. I could not tell if she was being playful or trying to give them a hint to leave her alone or there would be repercussions I took the panties out of her mouth – they had slobber and were half way out anyway. I wiped her wet pussy with them. It was thick with her own pussy-honey when I stuffed them back in her mouth. She looked up at me with that fiery look of betrayal in her eyes like I was being cruel – it was kind of refreshing. My mom and sister were so compliant that they never questioned my right to do naughty things to them. They might give me a nasty look every now and then at first but eventually they would come to some rationalization and gush about it – all it took was telling my mom how much I loved her. I do love her, but I have to admit letting her think we are all getting along and having harmony seems to really get her maternal juices flowing and that must connect to that sweet, sweet, pussy of hers on some level because she gets wet as the panties in Salome's sexy little mouth. "I do see your point Mr. Taylor, that discretion may be called for," she diplomatically agreed that we might make her look bad by extension. "You will be moving after this weekend anyway and I know you are a biblical man. Do you know your Hebrews?" she asked. "Sure I know some Jewish people. Herschel Kauffman lives just down the block," my Dad seemed perplexed by the question as did I. "No, Mr. Taylor," she smiled with a look of mental superiority "Hebrews 12:7 You must submit to and endure correction for discipline; God is dealing with you as with sons. For what son is there whom his father does not thus train and correct and discipline?" I laughed "Hey now, I am not masturbating in front of you Mrs. Waxerman," I chuckled with confidence. She did not like my joke. Naturally, that is an understatement. She sniffed like she was smelling hot horseshit and looked away from me. I heard her quote the scripture and given what had just happened I thought it was a pretty funny response. Honestly, as horny as I was from Delilah's delightful cum-uppance I would have been glad for an opportunity to whip it out and beat off right then. I could have done it while looking at Mrs. Waxerman's stone-cold, hatchet face – probably. I mean I would fuck poor little Delilah – now that she is Salome'. However, as many liberties as I took with the girl, that would probably have been too far over the top. I did think about it though - a lot. I even snatched a picture with my cell phone to 'think about' later if I am ever alone in the bathroom and need some inspiration. I would definitely be plowing my mom as soon as these country-bumpkins get out of here for some release. "I think she is saying she needs a male role model to train and discipline her sons?" My Dad was just as confused. "Oh, no way, I don't want to have to do what Delilah does!!" Gordon looked terrified. His brother slapped him "It's Salome now'" he corrected. Ezekial slapped them both "It's Farty butt" they all agreed and giggled. "Actually Mister Taylor, I was saying that you have done an incredible job with your son given what you had to work with," she looked at me like I was the hot horseshit she had been smelling and almost stepped in. "Given his mother's abandoned her responsibilities and his sister's influence, it is a surprise he turned out as well as he did." That was the most backhanded compliment I've ever received - and I've received a few. "Thank you Mrs. Waxerman, I feel exactly the same about you!" I could not help but smile as I delivered my own goofy retort. I know what a retort is because she told me my "retort was uncalled for if I would learn to listen and respect my elders I would have heard everything she had wanted to say." I smiled impishly and rubbed Salome's back softly. It was warm to the touch and goosebumps popped up as I rubbed softly. "Today the son has disciplined and trained and shown us how he too is a man, and I am impressed with you young Man. If you would have a wretch like my niece and do not feel she is as far gone as your mother and sister, I would be inclined to let you court her and marry her one day." That was perhaps the nicest compliment I've ever received – and I've not received all that many as genuine and creepy at the same time as that one. "You want me to marry your niece, Mrs. Waxerman?" I asked sheepishly. I was flattered and at the same time a little amused at how completely. I could see Salome' was struggling with her gag to say something and I was glad she couldn't. "Foolish boy, if I had the ruler in my hand right now it would go across your knuckles!" she wasn't furious with me she looked at me like I was foolish – more so than usual. "You don't know how to listen to your elders. I said I would let you court her and then marry her one day. You would still have to prove you could tame a scurrilous tramp like this one." She took her niece by the ear and stood her up straight. "Take those disgusting things out of your sister's mouth please," Mrs. Waxerman instructed Jimmy and he dutifully removed the panties from his sister's mouth. "Make sure you wash your hands thoroughly, all of you, when we get home." "Her too?" Ezekial asked of his sister. "Her hands are the cleanest thing on her I would imagine," Mrs. Waxerman looked the naked girl up and down with disgust before asking her if she was done showing herself to the Taylors. "Yes Ma'am, may I be uncuffed now and get dressed please?" Salome' sounded particularly complacent and accommodating after what she had been through. "You sure you don't want to leave her here so she could see my mom so she could see how she will turn out if she doesn't listen to you?" I joked to Mrs. Waxerman. I would definitely have fucked the shit out of her sexy little country-fried pussy if Mrs. Waxerman and her boys weren't around – it would give me a chance to 'court' her. I laughed mentally at my own joke. "Where is Mrs. Tay ... I mean Cow Tits," the question did not come easily out of Mrs. Taylor's mouth. It was like superman passing a kryptonite turd for her to say something as vulgar as 'cow tits'. I wondered how long before she came around to Farty Butt. "I really need to check on her actually, if you all want to see her I am sure she is still in the backyard." Dad guided everyone outside. "Being lazy and not doing house work, obviously" Mrs. Waxerman looked at our house with disgust and followed my father with her little flying monkeys, I mean boys following behind. I had a spare handcuff key and took Salome' by the hand to uncuff her. I was going to let her get dressed in my mom's clothes and ask her how she felt after that when I heard my father yell "What the fuck is wrong with you?" and a lot of laughter and consternation. I know what consternation means because Mrs. Waxerman said something about the level of dismay and confusion she had about what she had just seen was the 'height of her consternation'. I pushed Salome' forward but she did not bend very easily or step lightly at my command like she had earlier – as if she were back to her old tom-boy ways. However once she looked out the screen glass door she stepped outside of her own free will to see what everyone else saw. I wasn't sure what the story was but my mom was on all fours, naked with her cuffs behind her back as I had left her. She was rocking back and forth and Roscoe was humping her ass cheeks furiously. She was crying and had been struggling but he was wedged under her handcuffs and he seemed stuck. The cement on the ground underneath her was still wet from whatever had spilled out of her ass earlier and the enema bottle was rolling around next to her. "What are you doing, Cow Tits?" My Dad had his hands on his hips and it was hard to tell from his tone if he was amused or furious. He seemed to be feigning outrage for Mrs. Waxerman and her boys. "It is a long story Sir, please, please help me get him out of me?" She pleaded through tears as if she was panicking and wiggled her ass a little futilely. She was on the ground and unable to stand up or even get her legs up underneath herself to stand. "Oh, I am sure it is a fairly short story. Does it kind of start with 'once upon a time', and then end with 'got so horny she fucked the family dog in the yard and was caught by her husband and the neighbor boys?'". My mom's expression reminded me of the one Salome' gave me when she was looking right at me earlier during her little show. It did not seem like 'white alert' where my mom was secretly shocking them by doing what Dad was going to make her do anyway- she really seemed like she was worried. "Bill, please? I can't do this, please get him off me? Please? Please?" she begged and it was convincing – at least to me. My Dad insisted she rephrase that and call him Sir while the Waxerman boys cut up and joked. Mrs. Waxerman just shook her head and made a 'tsk, tsk, tsk' sound. The little black girl at the motel who is always saying something is 'Nasty!' and her would really have a lot to talk about I think. "My widowed-Aunt was a lonely spinster and she took to raising dogs to keep her company. We had to commit her to the sanitarium, because of her madness and lust for beasts. However, there is hardly any shame as a reflection on you," Mrs. Waxerman passively aggressively tried to comfort my father and insult my mom and him. He ignored her and bent down to examine Roscoe and take him off her back. "Well, I will be, he doesn't want to let go." My dad mused and scratched his chin. "He can't Sir," my mom bit her lip and hoped that was enough of an explanation. Naturally it wasn't – my father insisted she clarify. "Can you ask them to go back inside Sir?" My mom was in such a state she just noticed Salome was naked and standing there looking at her as well. She looked at her husband and back at Salome's nudity and said "Please? Whatever you guys are doing in there? I've grinned and bared them seeing me do almost every disgusting thing you made me do, but this is more than they should see." Mrs. Waxerman agreed "Leviticus 18:23 declares, "Do not have sexual relations with an animal and defile yourself with it. A woman must not present herself to an animal to have sexual relations with it; that is a perversion." And gathered her nephews to go back inside. I was really surprised. I assumed a book with as much incest and perversion as this book seemed to have about Salome' teasing and flirting with her step dad enough that he would let her have some guy killed would probably be thumbs up on dog-sex. My dad held up a finger. "Your boys have already seen, you can clearly tell the Dog is fornicating with my wife," he explained – Mrs. Waxerman seemed satisfied he used the words fornication. "Or should I say that she was fornicating with him as I don't think it was Mr. Roscoe's idea was it?" "No sir," my mom agreed with a pout. "Not so proud of what you were doing out here now that you've been caught?" My dad tickled one of her nipples and gave it a squeeze playfully. "You are ALERT to the fact that the FENCE needs painted white?" Dad hinted she needed to play along but put the emphasis on the word Fence instead of the word White – it was kind of funny but she got his meaning. "It says right on her back what she was gonna do!" Gordon had sounded out the words I wrote earlier. I had told my mom I wrote "I (heart) my dog". Instead I wrote "Dog Fucker" on her back. At the time, I thought it would be pretty funny but when my mom heard what I actually wrote she started to wiggle and get even more scared. She was trying to loosen Roscoe's hold on her back. "You are going to be knotted for about 20 or 30 minutes if the animal gave you his seed," Mrs. Waxerman explained. How she knew that – we did not ask. I did smile thinking about how she did know that. I am sure it is something lame like she is a championship breeder who is a big dog buff the way she pampers Mr. Snips – her own dog. I still wished it had something to do with some hillbilly thing she was talking up on holler-hill with her widowed Aunt. "You will not repeat the filth written on Cow-tit's back again!" Mrs. Waxerman instructed Gordon and he nodded apologetically. That was good enough for his aunt and the matter was dropped – all except for my mom who was now even more beet-faced than any time I've ever seen her blush. Her entire body had goosebumps on goosebumps – and her nipples were straight out and up – hard as a rock. They were kept that way by the nipple rings anyway – but they seemed extra taut and fat. The adrenalin was probably coursing through her veins – flight or fight reaction to being caught. "Do you see this wretched and vile woman?" Mrs. Waxerman pulled her niece closer to see my mother and she went without resisting the way she had me. She nodded sheepishly and answered "Yes Ma'am". "This is your future, do you want that?" Mrs. Waxerman asked. She pointed out "If you continue in your wickedness you will end up just like this harlot!" "No Ma'am, I do not." Salome' was almost in tears herself watching my mom wriggle around uncomfortably. "Are you sure? Because I could leave you here with the Taylor family to let you roll around with beasts LIKE a beast, would you not enjoy being like this unrepentant, prideful, utterly irredeemable and shameless slut?" Mrs. Waxerman asked again this time shaking a finger at my mom more than at the naked teenager standing next to her. "No Ma'am, I would not." Salome' repeated her answer in the same tone as before. "Farty butt hurry and get your clothes on and ask your brothers to handcuff you so that we can go back home!" Mrs. Waxerman issued the order and I volunteered to walk her back inside and supervise. The Waxerman boys continued to watch my mom writhe in humiliation on the ground. That was the first time Mrs. Waxerman said Salome's new nickname and it sounded hilarious. I wasn't the only one who laughed and giggled – but the real attention was on my mother. I did want to know the reason my mom was fucking Roscoe but I wanted to say goodbye to Salome. I had plenty of time to grill my mom over why she was doing that. "Well that was weird, huh?" I said with a smirk. I dropped the pretense of the hard-ass trainer now that we were alone in the living room. She picked up the clothes she brought and started to put them on. "Uh-uh, the other ones. The ones my mom was wearing." "Chris!" she stamped her foot like a spoiled brat. "Smaller" I explained. "The ones you came in here in are like something anyone can buy at JC Penny." "You want me to wear it because of this dumb shirt," she held up the half-top to her bare chest and considered the words 'I heart Black Cock' on it and looked at me with an expression that sarcastically asked 'really?' "What, you said white alert. You got white alert." I pinched her naked ass teasingly. She smacked away my hand with a gruff look. "I didn't know my brothers were going to walk in." she said angrily. I was a little confused "You had to know they would find out, my mom calls them the pooper snoopers!" "Okay, I knew they would find out, they saw how my Aunt has had me dress to come over here and they heard the stuff Cathy Griffin said about me," she admitted while impatiently pulling the half top over her head. "You better keep this pussy nice and shaved," I was teasing her and I moved closer to her and applied one finger to her clit hood with the universal 'come here' hand gesture. She first pushed me away with the flat of her hand to my chest and then pulled me close to her and kissed me deeply and passionately. "You dummy, I came here for you. I thought it would be fun to surprise you." She admitted when we came up for air. I was completely surprised. "I thought you were on punishment anyway? And just figured in for a penny in for a pound," I gave an expression my mom used all the time. She looked at me like I was an idiot and began to step into my mom's skirt. It actually seemed a little big on her compared to my mom's hips. Salome' is a lot more wispy and petite – even smaller frame than Jamie. "Why the fuck would I do that?" she asked with a frustrated expression as she looked around for her heels while buttoning the skirt around her waist. "You were going to be punished anyway. I figured you just wanted to shock your family and fuck with their heads some?" I asked. "For a city boy, you don't know much," she looked at me with a hint of contempt. I recognized that same look in her eyes now from earlier when I was teasing her and making herself lick her own juices. I waited for her to explain. "Shit, it's simple. Cathy Griffin hates me and she wanted to destroy me with her white-girl suburban drama. The thing she don't understand is I was Auntie's favorite and the things she told her I did my Aunt knew and overlooked. All I had to do was wait this out and I would have been fine." I nodded while looking out the screen glass door to see if anyone would walk in. They were laughing and standing around so my mom must have still been knotted and Roscoe wasn't going to release. "I just PRETENDED that Cathy had me over a barrel so the little twat would go away and think she won some victory. Then when my Aunt asked me about it I admitted to everything and threw myself on her mercy. It was simple enough to say not to treat me like the Taylor girls and then she insisted I put these clothes on and marched me over here." I nodded – this girl was devious on a whole other level. The manipulations and master plans she thought were obvious were completely unexpected. "I had no idea you would move away, you dummy! I thought it would be hot to stand here naked and let you play around with me like you do your sister and manhandle me. We would laugh about it afterwards or something." She looked around the floor like a girl late for a party and doing a last minute check for something she may have forgotten on the floor. Then she sighed and turned around and put her hands behind her back. I stood there waiting for her to finish her story. "Dammit, go ahead and cuff me already before the twisted old bitch pitches a shit fit." She demanded and willingly let me handcuff her. "There is no way for me to pop these fuckers off?" she tested their sturdiness and tried to wriggle her hands out. "I don't think so," I answered dumbly and asked "So you were never in any real trouble? You volunteered for this?" "God damnit," she continued to work her wrists around in the cuffs trying to find an escape. "That is what I just told you. I was Auntie's favorite. If I holler I want something – she dotes on me and buys it. If I say my brothers are doing something wrong she punishes them. I could have just denied what Cathy said and manipulated my Aunt into thinking she was a heathen vixen who was telling lies and that would have been the end of it. I fell on my spear basically and said it was all true and would she please help me see the error of the ways but not like the Taylors, you get it?" "Yes I get it," I answered – feeling kind of dumb for not realizing any of that. How could I have anticipated all this? "Farty Butt? Really? You let them pick the name Farty Butt for me?" she turned to look at me and chastise me for the nickname she ended up with. She was clearly not amused. "Hey that was all your brothers' idea!" I reminded her that I came up with "Peach tits" or "Sexy Cunt". "Those are fucking retarded," her blue eyes flashed when she complained like blue fire. "They would never have gone with something that dumb sounding!" "It could be worse, I could have suggested Farty McShittypants," I joked trying to lighten the mood. "You don't get it do you?" she saw that I didn't and continued. "I am going to have to do this now that my brothers are involved. They are never going to let my Aunt forget it or me to live it down. If I had just kept my fool mouth shut I would not have had to do anything." She shook her head in regret. She wriggled out of the handcuffs with a "cool" and then told me to get them back on her quick. "But you didn't," I reminded her. The look she gave me was much more intimidating than Mrs. Waxerman's worst look because there was a feisty 'I am going to actually bust your balls' to her pout that I have not seen before. She could be a tough girl when she wanted to be. I locked her in the handcuffs a second time – and patted her on the butt as I did. "No I didn't and I came here to impress you and your Dad," she admitted reluctantly – not fighting my hand when I gave her a pat but not liking it either. "You didn't mind if my Dad seen you naked?" I asked. "No, I don't give a fuck, I aint got nothing he aint never seen before on a woman." She tilted her head at me like she might possibly understand me better if she could see me from another angle – the way a dog tilts its head when it is confused. "You seemed like you liked it some?" I reminded her – feeling a bit of her anger and frustration and trying to offer her at least something positive out of the experience. "Yeah, one time to frig myself that was hot, but now I am going to have to do it like five times a day whenever those little maniacs want me too. You get that?" she said. All I could say in my defense was "Oops, my bad." ------- Chapter 45: Wendy's Journal: A dozen other twisted ideas, vignettes, scenes and questions ****Note to reader: This is an excerpt of Wendy's journal from Thursday morning from her perspective. The events take place around 10 am just before she is discovered by her family and the Waxermans outside with the family pet. In order to increase readability, some of the dialogue exchanged was altered to appear in a 'narrative' story format. CASH EARNINGS THURSDAY WENDY: $0 WEIGHTS: 0 JAMIE: $50 WEIGHTS: 0 It seemed like a very simple task. I just needed to find a way to lower myself onto an enema bottle, relax my asshole enough to let it slide in and get it back in there. It was made more complicated by the fact my hands were cuffed behind me and I had no way to pick it up and put it in my ass. Try #1 I squatted over the enema nozzle and tried to stand the empty bottle up and just sit down on it – repeatedly. Outcome: The darn plastic bottle would not cooperate with me and just kept falling over every time. Try #2 I tried to kneel over the bottle and scrunch down far enough that I could angle my body in such a way that I could use my hands to lift up the bottle so I could get into my ass even though they were cuffed. Outcome: I learned that I need to leave the contortionism to my daughter and nearly sprained my stomach muscles as my diaphragm strained to keep me balanced while I tried to defy the physical laws of reality and put an enema bottle where the sun does not shine. Try #3 I laid on top of the enema bottle and tried to inch it up my butt. Outcome: I ended up on my back with the water bottle stuck embarrassingly in between my crack. Try #4 I flipped over onto my knees and then tried to set the enema nozzle on its side on a chair and then back into it. Outcome: I managed to almost get the tip stuck in my ass when I realized this was futile and I was going to get in serious trouble. My son had been outside a few minutes earlier to tell me to clean up. I knew something was going on because he didn't even come outside to harass me. He just smiled his usual sadistic little smile and mouthed the words "Get that back up your ass right now!" closed the curtain on the sliding glass door and walked away. Such a loving son, huh? I had already gobbled up the little clumps of food particles and my own booty-mess when he came to the window. The Pooper Snoopers had been inside and not paying me any attention at all – so there must have been some kind of serious discussion going on in there. I decided to keep at my experimentations on failure in trying to think of a way to get the enema into my ass without full use of my hands. I kept seeing Roscoe staring at me every time I looked over my shoulder at him. His mouth was hanging open and he was panting in a way that made it seem like he was smiling and happy to see me. I felt sick inside knowing that soon they would make me fuck him and probably record it on video. I trusted my husband's judgment and knew women did this on the internet for fetish sites – possibly even twisted perversions but I still felt in my heart it was wrong. I longed for the early days of my training when Bill had clear rules and this would have been a gold star kind of thing where I could politely decline. I don't think he would have dared even bring it up then – we've come so far and become so much more intensely disciplined than I ever imagined. When I first began this I thought they would get me naked and try to spank my butt and then lose their nerve. I assumed that they would get a few laughs at my expense and we'd call it even – wow, how I was wrong about that one. I had felt up to this point that even with the whore tattoo and everything my husband and son put me through we could go back to a relatively normal relationship. I would probably be a little less conservative around the house in my dress and obviously the things Chris and I did sexually would be with me forever – I would have to live with that but I felt I COULD live with it. This on the other hand seemed like one of the most disgusting things a woman could do. This is the kind of thing women in Amsterdam or Japan do on video because they can't find any American women depraved enough to do it. I kept thinking that soon the pet I had fed for the last six years and never thought of as anything but – would be resting on my back and having sex with me. I kept picturing Bill and Chris laughing hysterically and it was giving me panic attacks. I wanted to say to them 'Laugh it up, keep laughing!' and then stand up and beat them with a stick for making me do this. I fantasized about it actually. I saw a rake leaning up against the wall – it was one of the ones that Chris had shoved up our butts to make us play 'scarecrow' with and I pictured just standing up and beating them. My hands were cuffed behind my back making it all but impossible - but then it really didn't matter since I was never going to attack them anyway. I was just thinking of things to keep my mind busy to take it off my impending and immediate punishment for failing to keep the enema bottle in my ass and/or getting it back up there. I was also trying to stop thinking about Roscoe. That is when the strangest question occurred to me. I asked myself what sex with him is going to be like and will it feel like a man's cock? That is when my mind started spinning. Keep in mind, I've not eaten much or had a lot of sleep at this point and what I have eaten has been shoved up my ass or cunt or both and I was told to be grateful for what I did get. I got it into my head that if I could first try this with Roscoe before the guys got out here and made me do it then it would not be so bad. You know how the fear of the unknown is so much more terrifying than the devil you do know? I knew my sexual submission to Roscoe was inevitable and I just wanted to get it over with – so I could conquer this mind-numbing fear. Thinking about – anticipation was making it far worse. I backed my ass up towards Roscoe and he looked at me with that dumb, stupid panting dog-smile of his and just stared at my naked ass. I wiggled my butt and cooed sweetly "C'mon Roscoe, have a sniff" but he was having none of it at first. I have to admit I felt strangely guilty for coaxing him but I was not thinking about the consequences. I had stubbornly made my mind up I was going to do this and I was. He was timid at first but then just like a few days earlier he came up and started sniffing my ass. I remember being completely grossed out by it at first but now I knew it was going to be needed to get him familiar with my body. Roscoe is not a big dog – he is medium sized. I looked at his little brown cock – the pink tip had started to emerge like a lipstick as he panted and sniffed. I teased him and wiggled my ass for him to coax him to get on my back but the dog stood there stupefied. I wondered if the Waxerman boys would have done the same. They like to look and even touch but would they have known what to do unless I told them exactly how to fuck me? Today one of them got so close to my asshole that he watched me breathing and said that every time I breathed in he could see my pussy lips move in time. The fact is weeks ago I would have been shocked and horrified that anyone much less a teenage boy younger than my daughter had that kind of access to my body. I would have probably felt uncomfortable if Bill had shown that much interest in me – instead, I just let him get as close as he wanted and continued to breathe. I teased them and used white alert on them the way Bill liked. I think he secretly gets excited when other men use my body – at least I hope so because if not and his jealousy is real, this is probably driving him crazy. He has to act a little jealous – how else would I know he really still wants me? I had told them "Aww boys, I missed you too," and kidded them as they stood around me staring down at me while I was splayed out with the enema bottle safely up my ass. It still boggles my mind that I can face even the most absurd situation when I apply a little humor and a grain of salt. They clamored around me and asked me about my enema and how long I had to have it up my butt. "Until my son comes back and lets me take it out, Sir" I replied to their giggles. They were no strangers to getting enemas under Mrs. Waxerman but the fact a grown woman was having to do it – outside in the nude seemed to delight them to no end and I had to answer the same question a few times before they got tired of hearing me admit it to them. "Do you like enemas?" one of the boys asked me thoughtfully. "No sir, do you?" I replied honestly. "No, I hate them!" he made no secret of it. "Especially when she puts the tonic and hot sauce in them!" he growled. "Mine is my breast milk," I can't believe I offered that without them asking. I chalked it up to white alert since they giggled about it anyway. They still call me Mrs. Taylor which is some consolation to being known as 'Cow Tits'. It is strange that they seem to respect me as an authority figure and at the same time enjoy watching me grovel and spread myself like this and not find that incongruent with what grown up authority figures do. They asked me a few more questions mostly as an excuse to stare at my body and I just blushed and played along with the polite charade. They were probably interested on some level but I knew they were dirty little boys who liked to talk about butts and farts and boobies from past experience – so it wasn't like I was corrupting the innocent even if they did look like extras from a Duffy Moon TV afternoon special. These boys were so completely out of touch with most kids their age. They wore striped t-shirts and had crew cuts – they probably had no idea what Pokemon or Nintendo DS was. They seemed to be ripped out of another time and place entirely than the one we presently live in. In a way I could respect Mrs. Waxerman's attempts to keep them back in that time – a simpler time. The laughter and giggles were adding to my difficulty holding the enema between my cheeks. I would never have been able to last this long if not for the daily enemas we had been getting –sometimes more than once in a day to have built up the tolerance. I cannot always tell the boys apart but I think it was Jimmy who bent down and started pressing on my rib cage with two fingers on either side of my body. "Please don't make me laugh, Sir" I begged but I was already chuckling as he tickled me. "Wha-eye?" he drew the question of why out teasingly as he played chopsticks like my ribs were keys on a piano. "Please, please no," I begged and I could feel the enema bottle drop while the other two boys egged him on. It was then I knew this was going to get messy. They clearly had teased each other before when they had taken enemas because the standing boys both backed up. "Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo," I remember saying as my sphincter first tightened, spasmed and then exploded. I didn't look but from their comments about how white the liquid it was – there wasn't much shit left in my ass at all. They laughed as hard as they could as I finished expelling the breast milk and I even pissed at the same time – I could not control it. I remember my nipples hardening and my entire body getting tight and I just let go. They made "Friippppppppp" farting sounds to remind me of how absolutely disgusting the mess I had just made was and the sound my ass made when it happened. "Thanks guys, I get it" I laughed in shame – what else could I do? These boys loved farty noises and this was their occasion to demonstrate their creativity while making me feel lower than a grasshoppers knee. My hands were still cuffed behind my back and I was supposed to wait like I was. "Oooh, you gonna get in trouble?" Jimmy asked me – there was a hopeful yet condescending note to his voice like he wanted me to be punished. "Yes sir, I probably will. Do you mind telling my son what just happened?" That was about twenty minutes before I started to get worried they were not coming back. I heard some booty music come on and then shut off really fast. Then I heard them playing a loud shit-kicking country tune and I thought I heard laughter. I could only imagine what they were doing in there while I stayed outside trying to get the enema bottle back in. That is about the time my mind wandered to Roscoe. I had already French kissed the dog and I knew what was coming - if I could do it on my own terms before being ordered, it would be easier when it came. I told myself that. I also told myself I was crazy for not telling Bill I would be his whore and even let him beat my ass but I wouldn't be fucking the family dog. I should stand my ground I told myself. Then I told myself they would attach a bunch of weights to my pussy – and rightly so since I didn't obey and I'd never get out of my agreement to serve. Then I imagined what it might be like to be an old gramma with nothing on but high heels and a dog collar baking pies when Jamie and Chris's family comes over for thanksgiving – still in servitude to my husband. I pictured myself kindly letting my grandkids lick the batter off the spoon of whatever I was cooking. In my mind, I looked a lot like Mrs. Wilson the neighbor in Dennis the Menace comic strips as an old woman – only naked. I wrestled with about a dozen other twisted ideas, vignettes, scenes and questions that include both the defense of them and the counter point reason not to do them. In the end, I decided to go ahead and try to entice Roscoe to fuck me. I was secretly hoping he may not want to do it and I would not have to do it. That was about the time he got on my back and started to fuck me. He didn't get his cock all the way in, mind you – but he was horny and he smelled my wet pussy and he didn't mind I had just shit all over the patio – he did that too. I was able to lift him up on to my back so he was closer to the hole he was supposed to be in - even with my wrists cuffed behind my back. I stretched and stretched myself to help him actually get his cock in me. I remember feeling his slimy dog cock and the odd shape and thinking it reminded me of a breakfast link – a gross, smooth, breakfast link with a very pointy end. I stretched some more until I pulled a muscle and charlie-horsed my leg. Chris would laugh his ass off when my leg muscle spasmed and I couldn't move after he had us do some exercise- I guess this is the price of getting old because Jamie never got them. My stomach muscles were tight and I felt myself starting to slip unable to hold myself up any longer. I could not get any leverage – I was kneeling somewhat face first with my hands cuffed behind me so I had nothing on my upper body but my tits to keep me from being flat on the ground. I was flat on the ground and now I couldn't move due to the extreme cramp that was in my leg that had spread to my back. Roscoe for his part had not managed to slip the tip of his dick into me. That was until I managed to accidentally pin him under my arms. I was trying to help him up on my back into position and he struggled and got stuck under my handcuffs and arm. He yelped and then struggled and his paws bit into my back – he needs his nails trimmed! Then he adjusted himself and wriggled before he realized he was just as stuck as I was. I suppose he decided to make the best of it as that is when I felt him enter me. I want to reiterate that fucking my son yesterday was one of the most taboo and indecent things I thought any mom could do. That was until today when I willingly and knowingly allowed my dog to climb up on my bare back with the intention of letting him fuck me. He wasn't in there hard and he wasn't in there securely but he was in there and he started to fuck himself back and forth. At first, I barely even felt the squirmy little cock as it darted in and out but it grew. I felt the warmth of his cum as he fucked me to fruition and then the little bastard bit my back hard and began to struggle. I later learned that he had 'knotted' me – his cock had grown in size around the base in such a way that he could not pull out without tearing me open. I could feel the warm cum inside me pooling and starting to drizzle down my thigh – but there was no budging this doggy off my back. "Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit" I felt a sudden wave of sobriety wash over me – wondering why did I ever do this? Why did I not wait until I had to do it? I couldn't undo what I had done but I instantly regretted and felt ashamed of encouraging this. Then it started to occur to me what kind of punishment I was probably in for once they caught me like this. The enema bottle dropping out of my ass seemed like really small potatoes by comparison. This was not going to go well for me. If I could roll onto my back I cold free Roscoe and get myself righted again. I hadn't quite figured out yet that he and I were biologically joined and connected by the laws of how puppy-cocks work. He yelped and whined because he was wedged between my elbows and wrists and I was about to crush him by rolling over on to him. I stopped myself and remained as I was. "Roscoe, get off mommy, huh?" I whispered to him in the baby-voice I used to talk to him in before any of this began as if he could understand my command. I could hear him breathing and panting – pictured his smiling dog face with his tongue hanging out. He was probably completely oblivious to how humiliating it was going to be if I got caught this way. Then it dawned on me – I had made it. I am in the club. I am a "Doggy Fucker". One of the rare breed of total sluts who can honestly say they fucked a dog and there is no way to erase that from my 'permanent record'. I've officially gone as low as one can go and there is no undoing it. As I thought about this new low in my life - I felt a sharp pain of liquid guilt ride down my spine and into my leg where my Charlie horse had been. The fresh wave of intense humiliation had managed though to take my mind off my sore leg cramp. I started to revisit those five stages of grief again. One: Denial — "I did not just do this. I did not just encourage my dog to fuck me. What am I thinking?" Two: Anger — "Why did I do this? Get this dog off me! What is wrong with his cock that he won't get off no matter how much I wiggle and buck!" Three: Bargaining — "I'll just let him stay like this for another minute, then I will make him get off of me. They were going to make me do this anyway, I was just getting used to it! I will just be a good girl and admit what I did wrong and then offer to do it again – they can't be mad then right?" Four: Depression — "I am in so much deep doo-doo when they come out here and they ARE going to come out here any moment now I just know it. I should never have done this." Five: Acceptance — I had not reached this stage quite yet. I was still dealing with the tears that had welled up in my eyes from step four. The sliding glass door opened right before I got here- FUCK! 'Swerrrrrrrpppp' the sound of the metal of the sliding glass door gliding open was jarring. I had learned to fear it like a mouse fears the kitchen light in the middle of the night. I felt my tummy do back flips. Chris and Bill walked out calmly and asked me why Roscoe was on top of me. They told me it had all been a disgusting joke and helped him out of me very gently. Then Chris did the nicest thing – he went and got me a glass of wine. I was about to thank him when I realized I had been fantasizing about that last bit after I panicked. My husband was standing over me asking "What the fuck? Can you explain yourself Cow tits?" while the Waxerman boys laughed and jeered under the domineering nose of their Aunt. I started to rock back and forth. I was in that 'denial' stage because I just started to whisper over and over 'oh no, this cannot be happening, oh no this cannot be happening.' Tears had begun to stream out of my eyes. It finally dawned on me, as the tears poured out of my sad clown face, that THIS was reality and not some twisted dream and Roscoe had been humping my ass. "What are you doing, Cow Tits?" Bill sounded amused and outraged – I didn't even register the tone. I was too much in absolute mind-fuck mode to even process what was happening right now. The voices of the boys seemed to escalate the intensely humiliating feeling and echo in my head. The look of disapproval on Mrs. Waxerman's face was more intense than anything I had ever seen before – everything felt magnified like a searing, tightly focused beam of pure and utter humiliation burning through my chest into my heart and all down my spine. "It is a long story Sir, please, please help me get HIM out of ME?" I was wiggling my ass- not in a sexy way but more to shake the damned dog loose! I was crying and sounded pathetic I am sure of that. My mind was warped at this point –panic had truly set in and I was willing to say or do anything to get him off of me –but I could not think straight any longer. When people say "I don't know why I did that, I just lost it" I really never had an appreciation for what that meant until this particular moment in my life – even though I thought I had before. "Oh, I am sure it is a fairly short story. Does it kind of start with 'once upon a time', and then end with 'got so horny she fucked the family dog in the yard and was caught by her husband and the neighbor boys?'" Bill was doing white alert with me. He wanted me to say that I had thought of this on my own – and in a weird way I actually had jumped the gun and done that. I just did not want to admit it. I was not in a joking mood - making Waxerman lose her shit was secondary because right now I was losing mine. I gave Bill a glance that I hoped he would take for "I am not fucking around - Please Bill, drop the white alert and help get this dog out of me." "Bill, please? I can't do this, please get him off me? Please? Please?" when my glance didn't work I just dropped all pretense of protocol and honestly begged and pleaded with him. The Dog's dick was throbbing in me and I could feel his paws and breath on my back as he struggled to free himself as well. The poor little guy had no idea all these people were around and he was probably wanting to get down and sniff them or get them to pet his head. Bill wasn't letting me out of the protocol at all. I swallowed my pride while the Waxerman boys chuckled and tried to get myself together – this was happening and I needed to deal with it now. Mrs. Waxerman just shook her head and made a 'tsk, tsk, tsk' sound. If she had a pink night gown on she would have been just like that little girl I call "Nasty" back at the motel – everything to her is disgusting but she stands right in the middle of it gawking and judging. "My widowed-Aunt was a lonely spinster and she took to raising dogs to keep her company. We had to commit her to the sanitarium, because of her madness and lust for beasts. However, there is hardly any shame as a reflection on you," Mrs. Waxerman was offering some kind of friendly advice to Bill and implying I was insane. I had to picture what kind of crazy back-home hillbilly world produced Mrs. Waxerman. Then again would a sanitarium be so far out of the question for a woman who willingly has sex with dogs? I am not talking about the strangers on the street variety either – but real puppies and beagles? Bill was doing his strong and silent routine. I could see the bemusement in his eyes as I looked up at him. Easy for him to laugh – he didn't have the family pet literally inside him and stuck to his back. He bent down slowly and tried to free Roscoe gently. "Well, I'll be, he doesn't want to let go." Bill was trying to sound like a wise old country gentleman. I am sure he was imitating Wilford Brimley from those oatmeal 'Diabetes' commercials when he talks about 'Liberty Medical and Liberty Medical supplies'. "He can't Sir," I bit my lip. I was in no mood to feed the white alert monster we had created with the Waxermans. I just wanted him off of me but I knew the more I explained the more it made things worse. Naturally it wasn't – Bill was going to be a stickler. That should have been no surprise after all that we have been through the past weeks but it was. "Can you ask them to go back inside Sir?" I had only just noticed the naked girl standing in the background. She had her hands behind her back and the first thing I noticed about her was that she was the older sister to the three Waxerman boys. I can tell you that I should have been more taken by surprise than I was by that but given the circumstance I was really focused on myself. My mind spun a thousand reasons why the girl who had been flirting with my son at the pool party was naked in my backyard - It certainly explained the booty music earlier. She seemed like a beautiful, freckle faced country girl with long black hair and strikingly beautiful blue eyes. I noticed how perfect and smooth her skin was and was admittedly a little envious. I also noticed she had pink marks all over her body from being hit with what I can only assume was a ruler because one of the Waxerman boys was still holding it in his hot little hands and I assumed he wasn't measuring things with it. "Please? Whatever you guys are doing in there?" I started to say something to Bill about the girl but I thought better of it. At this stage nothing should really shock me about the Waxermans but I have to admit I was kind of curious why Mrs. Waxerman had allowed her favorite niece to parade around naked. "I have grinned and bared them seeing me do almost every disgusting thing you made me do, but this is more than they should see." I decided to appeal to Bill's sense of decency. It was one thing to have the attitude 'boys will be boys' and let them watch a PG-13 movie like caddyshack where the hot girl shows her boobs. I could totally get on board with that because I was a teenager once myself. I had even been able to rationalize the fact that when they saw Jamie and I outside 'sunbathing' that we probably were not the only women who were sunbathing outside topless or naked behind the safety of privacy fences. I felt like a sexy MILF from one of those PG-13 'American Pie' films that the main characters peek on and I had been okay with it – it had been fairly harmless. I think up to the point I got to "Watching me fucking a dog" that I could bend reality enough to find a way to take it all with a grain of salt. I just wanted the Waxerman boys out – possibly more because they would not stop laughing and jeering and intensifying my humiliation than I did to save them from seeing the intensely, disturbing thing I had been doing if I had to really speak to my motivations. Mrs. Waxerman agreed with me "Leviticus 18:23 declares, "Do not have sexual relations with an animal and defile yourself with it. A woman must not present herself to an animal to have sexual relations with it; that is a perversion." I assumed as arbitrary as she was that she would naturally disagree with me. However, she is a bible thumper and I guess if it was in the Bible and it said something about kicking my ass then she was going to get on board with that. I almost laughed when I came to that realization if this wasn't so ridiculous a situation. Chris was standing behind the naked girl as if he were in charge of her as well. The thought flashed through my mind "Oh no, are they going to make her a whore like Jamie and I?" Bill stopped them before they left. "Your boys have already seen, you can clearly tell the Dog is fornicating with my wife," Bill was clearly still doing white alert or else he would not have used the word 'fornicate' to appeal to the crazy old bitch. "Or should I say that she was fornicating with him as I don't think it was Mr. Roscoe's idea was it?" he asked me. "No sir," he had me on that one and I tried to surpass a pout. "Not so proud of what you were doing out here now that you've been caught?" Bill tried to cheer me up by tickling my nipple playfully – does he not understand I have a DOG DICK INSIDE MY PUSSY AND IT WON'T COME OUT? "You are ALERT to the fact that the FENCE needs painted white?" Could he hit Mrs. Waxerman over the head with a bigger sign that he was trying to hint that I needed to play along under the rules of white alert? Surely, even she could not be so oblivious that she thought Bill wasn't trying to send me a not-so-secret message? Bill had emphasized the word 'fence' instead of 'white' and unless he meant I should try to hop it and run the fuck away – I assumed he meant white alert. I did not want to play a long – all the humor of this ridiculous situation was lost on me. Gordon started sounding out the words on my back. I could tell right away that my prediction Chris had written something other than 'I heart my dog' on the small of my back was true. "Dogg ... Doggy Fucker? Doggy Fucker!! Ahahahahah" was what he said when he figured it out. I began to wiggle and wriggle and probably jiggle – anything to get this dog off my back. I distinctly heard my son whisper to his father "Is the tip in or is Roscoe all the WAY inside?" but I didn't hear his father's answer. The truth is – my pussy was so wet and dripping that I wasn't entirely sure how far in he was. I just knew I could not get him out and it scared me. I wasn't horny or turned on by any stretch of the imagination but the intense humiliation and fear I was feeling had sent signals to my body that made my nipples extra hard, my pussy wet and to be honest my asshole to start puckering. Chris had made me do exercises to wink my pussy and ass almost every day for thirty minutes or more and now those muscles were flexing in time with my panic. "You are going to be knotted for about 20 or 30 minutes if the animal gave you his seed," Mrs. Waxerman said very distinctly and plainly. I was not sure how she knew that but the news only made me want to buck him off harder. I believed her even though I did not want to believe her. I was not ready to calm down and wait. "You will not repeat the filth written on Cow-tit's back again!" Mrs. Waxerman addressed Gordon. I had never heard her call me 'Cow Tits' before this. I might have laughed that I had just scored some kind of breakthrough in the silent game we play had it been a regular white alert situation. My son had compared white alert to Jenga. That game where you stack little wooden blocks precariously until they all collapse. The goal is to keep stacking higher so they never collapse and when you run out of blocks you can call out 'Jenga'. It felt a little like I had just stacked the blocks higher than anyone else – and I would have been amused if I wasn't so completely blanketed in humiliation and shame for being seen this way. I could feel my face turning a deep shade of red from the intense embarrassment I was feeling. The morning sun had risen and its heat was beating down on my still well-tanned body and I could hear Roscoe panting on my back. He was probably completely unaware there was anything wrong with what he was doing and just happy for the attention he was getting. The more I thought about it – the more my nipples felt distended and hard. I pushed my boobs down onto the cement of the patio so they too would not be a subject of scorn from Mrs. Waxerman – and my son and husband had nothing else to mock me with. "Do you see this wretched and vile woman?" Mrs. Waxerman pulled Delilah to her. The naked girl's small breasts bounced slightly. I could definitely tell now that she had her hands bound behind her back. Delilah nodded sheepishly and answered "Yes Ma'am". "This is your future, do you want that?" Mrs. Waxerman asked her niece. In a strange way I was relieved to be an object lesson in avoiding doing what I was doing and at the same time offended to be an object lesson about choices I had made - I probably deserved to be though. "If you continue in your wickedness you will end up just like this harlot!" Mrs. Waxerman's voice was very serious – and I did not doubt there was a trace of hyperbole to her meaning. "No Ma'am, I do not." The naked teenage girl seemed like she might be in tears. I had seen her be sassy and wink at my son before – it was strange to see her be so vulnerable. I wondered if that is how people had seen me after I changed from high powered executive to dumb little slut. "Are you sure? Because I could leave you here with the Taylor family to let you roll around with beasts LIKE this ... this whore of satan. Would you not enjoy being like this unrepentant, prideful, utterly irredeemable and shameless slut?" Mrs. Waxerman was clearly talking to her niece but her words were directed at me. I have to admit when we did white alert it took away some of Mrs. Waxerman's ability to make me feel like shit. I think maybe without realizing it – our little game had insulated me from concern about what this old lady felt. It made her powerless to hurt me with her words. Now that I was not playing white alert they stung fresh as I heard her say them. She could make an Eskimo feel guilty for turning on a space heater and I knew that almost no one ever lived up to her impossibly high standards – well except for my husband it seems. "No Ma'am, I would not." Delilah shook her head no, in agreement with her Aunt. I got a look at the girl's perfectly rounded rump –they had been spanking her inside our house. "Farty butt hurry and get your clothes on and ask your brothers to handcuff you so that we can go back home!" I almost laughed that she addressed her niece that way. If I had to guess, the boys had some hand in coming up with that name. She had a look on her face of total disgust with the name – but no defiance. I was surprised at how easily it seemed she had accepted it. I have to admit I was secretly thankful for the chance to take my mind off the panting dog locked inside of me by the knot of his cock and trapped under my arms behind my back. Everyone else outside laughed when they heard Mrs. Waxerman say the word 'Farty Butt'. I think it just sounded so ridiculous that it was a good release valve for the intense scrutiny and humiliation I was under. My son escorted the cuffed, naked girl back inside while the others kept their eyes glued to me. "So you must be happy you get to take a break outside for the next thirty minutes and avoid house work, huh?" My husband said to break the awkward silence. I almost laughed at how ridiculous that sounded. I wanted to sarcastically agree that yes, I had planned to avoid some house work all along as part of my nefarious scheme to fuck the dog and stay on all fours naked in the yard because I am so lazy. Then I realized I was under white alert and I was supposed to say things like that. "Yes Sir, you found me out. I did not want to clean up before people came to start buying things so that you would not be able to sell my favorite things. I thought fucking Roscoe outside was the only way you would let me stay out here where I enjoy it." I almost panicked towards the end and let my voice crack. That was such a lie I could not believe I had even said it. I also could not believe the Waxermans even bought it. "You sure is lazy, Mrs. Taylor" Gordon was the first one to speak after the pregnant pause from my false admission of guilt. His brother punched him on the arm with two knuckles – I had come to learn that is what they call a 'frogger punch'. "It's cow tits, did you not hear Mr. Taylor?" "Oh Sorry Ma'am, I meant to say Cow Tits" Gordon apologized to me. "No offense taken, Sir" I have to admit – I said that with a smile to the boy at how over the top and naive it was he was apologizing so sincerely for forgetting to call me something so nasty and offensive. I truly love the Pooper Snoopers. If not for them, it may have been really awful being discovered this way but I think they let me see this situation with a sense of humor. "My wife has such an attitude problem," Bill pretended to be powerless to stop me from disrupting his life and being such a terrible wife. "I knew she loved black cock and Mexican dick, but I had no idea she loved dog cock. How long have you been seeing Roscoe behind my back?" He asked trying to coax me to play along. I could see Mrs. Waxerman's eyes flick over to him in disgust at how he asked the question. I suppose it was up to me to see his raise and call – or whatever they do in poker when they up the ante. I could not leave Bill hanging as the one who talked the most nastily around here and ruin his perfect reputation for him. I relaxed my mind and calmed myself down. I was in this impossible situation and I guess I was skipping past bargaining, denial, anger and acceptance and going straight to 'joking around about it'. "You know I love all kinds of cocks – big ones, little ones, nigger dicks," I stopped myself on that word – it sounded awful but there was quiet from what I was saying as I looked at the ground. "I made Chris write how much I love dog cock to show off to our neighbors and embarrass you – because your cock is not enough for me." Bill was quiet for a while and I kept my eyes focused on the dirty cement under me. I did not want to look up for fear that I may lose my nerve. I was glad I did because I was not prepared for what Bill said next. "I just don't know what to do with you," He spit on the ground near my face. "I suppose you want me to parade you to all the neighbors and show them what a whore you are, huh?" Bill was being sarcastic but it was clear he was also prodding me to agree with him. My husband is a lot of things – but a great actor he is not. "Yes Sir, I would love it. Can you invite them over so they can watch me wiggle around with all this doggy spunk in me," to be honest I wasn't sure if Roscoe had came or not – but it stood to reason since part of his cock had grown four sizes larger and I couldn't get him out. I bucked a little to make it seem like I was enjoying this situation. "I should make you go next door to each of our neighbors and apologize for being such a rotten housekeeper, neighbor and wife for all these years before we move!" Bill sounded a bit too believable to me when he said that about me – but I was probably reading too much into it. He just was a terrible actor which made his believable performances stand out a little bit more. "I would like to see you make me," I lied. The thought of doing white alert to our more normal neighbors scared the crap out of me. The only one I could see doing that with who wouldn't totally freak out was Van and my husband was a little jealous of him – so that probably wasn't going to happen anyway. This was just another of the things Bill liked to say to play with Mrs. Waxerman. "You keep forgetting to call me Sir, I am the man of the house still! And if I demand you apologize to them you will." Bill said defiantly – but with a trace of powerlessness to his voice. "You can't even make me apologize to Mrs. Waxerman who has been the epitome of Christian kindness and charity, SIR." I said Sir as if I were mocking him. This was all part of our game and he knew it. I was smiling with my face pointing straight down at the cement – this was taking my mind off the dog cock buried in my twat. I added "You are too busy looking at Delilah's pretty pussy to worry about me anyway, SIR." I played with him. I thought I might have crossed the line mentioning her niece because now Mrs. Waxerman chimed in. "I would thank you to refer to her as Farty Butt," even she was uncomfortable saying that "As we call you Cow Tits in kind, or you can say Salome' which is her new name in mixed company." I wondered what the hell had happened in the house that all of this was decided - It sounded like quite a story! "Sorry Ma'am, thank you. I prefer to be called Cow Tits. It makes me feel like I am appreciated for my sweater meat." I only knew sweater meat from the times Chris's friends remarked on it when they talked about me. I was sure they used to say it before this happened behind my back but they were able to say it right in front of me now. Again, I wondered if that was going to change after this was all over – I was kind of flattered on some level that his friends thought I was a 'sexy MILF' – "Mom I would like to fuck" "You think it's wrong of me to look at this little teenage fluff and yet you show your ass to whoever wants to see it? You stopped wearing panties and bras!" Bill was pretending it had been my idea to stop doing that. I suppose now it was since I had insisted they keep the discipline in place to keep us whoring. I was getting confused as to what my story was supposed to be with Mrs. Waxerman – but the good news about that was it didn't really have to make sense. The more we could pile on in front of her about our escapades the more she got infuriated – which was the goal. "Yes I do SIR" I said sir as if I was forced to say it but didn't really believe I had too. "Your daughter and I tease and flirt around this house all day long and yet you look at that pretty, little country girl? It makes me jealous!" I wondered if he would appreciate me pretending to be jealous for a change. "You nasty little bitch, if you PLEASED as much as you TEASED maybe I would not have to look at a hot little number like Farty Butt's perfect little ass!" Bill sounded delighted to play the arguing married couple when I took it in this direction. The poor girl wasn't outside to hear us argue about her– but I kept looking straight down so that I didn't accidentally break character and laugh at how ridiculous we sounded. "I pleased Roscoe didn't I?" It nearly killed me to say that out loud and hear it in my own voice escaping my lips even if I was kidding. No one else noticed my entire body quaking with disgust – or if they did they said nothing. I kept my tone light and playful but inside I was disgusted with myself. "Yes, and the niggers and Mexicans down on Martin Luther King Boulevard but you don't do your wifely duties around here!" Bill reminded me of that old comedian Jackie Mason playing the kvetching husband joking about his unfaithful wife. "Oh you love it," I teased playfully. "You love to watch me suck stranger's cocks. It turns you on doesn't it SIR?" I couldn't see Bill's face but I thought I may have said something that struck a nerve or rang true because he became quiet. I could hear only the sound of the boy's muffled giggles. "You precocious little cum gobbler," Bill finally spoke and with it the giggles became less muffled. "You would have the audacity to get jealous over me seeing that flat-chested little girl or what I am looking at on my computer, when you flaunt yourself around and show off your goodies to whoever wants to see. Take a good look boys, this is my whore wife and her big fat titties, like what you see?" there was a tiny nugget of truth buried under Bill's playful kidding. He did get jealous at times or maybe he was pretending at times to get jealous for my benefit – I can honestly say though I had no real concern about him seeing Delilah naked. After all we have been through it would take a lot more than that for something to come between our marriage. I had fucked strangers, friends, even his son – he had been faithful. This was all pretend make believe for the benefit of the Waxermans. "I wouldn't expect a hussy like you to understand. Your husband did not stare at her." Mrs. Waxerman defended Bill. The more I pushed back on Bill the more she wanted to defend him and that was kind of a good thing. "Don't try to explain it to Cow Tits. She gets jealous if I even look in the direction of a pretty woman." I don't know if Bill was looking at Mrs. Waxerman longingly to suggest she was pretty – but if he was that would have been a Jenga in our little white alert game – I secretly hoped he thought of giving her a suggestive look. "I have to put up with her fucking all sorts of strangers, but she can't stand for me to look at another woman," Bill was talking to Mrs. Waxerman about me – and I was waiting for my chance to chime back in like the nympho wife who loved this. "Oh you love watching me blow strangers, besides I let you keep the money I earn when your daughter and I work the streets." I could hear Victoria gasp when I admitted that out loud. The boys were still giggling. "That is because you are terrible with money and it was you who lost us the house!" Bill was too serious for the white alert game we were playing. I could tell there was some half-truth and underlying anger in his voice. "Why can't he punish you, Mrs. Cow Tits?" Gordon asked me politely. I giggled at how polite and respectfully he addressed me. "It is just Cow Tits if you please Gordon, Mrs. Cow Tits was my mother." I joked. "Oh she was?" Gordon asked innocently. My mom was actually a wonderful but stern Christian woman – but in so many ways different than Mrs. Waxerman. I decided not to tempt karma by feeding into the white alert and involving my mom in our fabrication. "He can't punish me because Roscoe is on my ass, so there is no place for him to spank!" I ignored his comment about my mom and jokingly answered his question with a smart-ass tone in my voice while wiggling my butt. Roscoe for his part chose that moment on my back to sneeze one of those quick dog sneezes as if to agree with me – which made everyone giggle except for Bill. "I CAN punish you." He insisted. He was speaking slowly and using only a few words. Bill had been playing the good, accommodating husband who couldn't control his wife earlier – but now he was doing his 'strong and silent' act. I know it is an act because I've been married to the man since high school and he pulls it out when he needs it. "I know you COULD," I wiggled my ass "But first you need to get this little doggy off my big fat ass if you want to spank me Sir" I was trying to tease him into helping me get the dog out of me while being true to the spirit of the 'white alert' game he liked us to play. Bill took it as a personal challenge. "Hey Dad, did you hear McDonald's has new McFishBites? They are like McNuggets only with fish," Chris had obviously just heard something on TV and repeated it. He had emerged from the sliding glass door at that particular moment to let the Waxermans know Delilah was dressed and ready for them. He was also completely unsurprised they were still standing over me while this game played out. "Chris, can you go inside and get the splints for your mother?" Bill asked his son. "Those chopstick looking things?" Chris laughed and his father told him to bring them all. "I am not saying my mom's a slut, but if her cunt had a password it would be 1234." He added and happily strutted off to retrieve them. "No sir, please, not the chopsticks of doom!" I had worn the little wooden slats he was talking about before on my breasts. They really didn't hurt that bad. It was white alert so I was allowed to ham it up but in truth I wasn't scared at all of them. I could hear the Waxerman boys repeat my words with a hint of awe and anticipation – those little stinkers were looking forward to me wearing them. "Do you see what I put up with?" Bill was addressing the Waxermans. "Do you understand why I prefer cock shoved down her mouth so I don't have to listen to how she talks to me?" Bill's joke received some guffaws and giggles from the Waxermans. "It's too bad you have to go now, or you could watch me punish her for getting caught fucking the family dog." "I think we've seen quite enough as it is," Mrs. Waxerman sounded her retreat – one of us must have tipped over the Jenga blocks to make her turn and leave without staying to witness my punishment. "We should leave before you corrupt anymore of us like you did Delilah, I mean Salome', I mean Farty Butt!" the boys laughed at her forgetting the proper name for her niece before she could shush them properly. "Are you sure? This is a good punishment for your sister?" Bill's fake enthusiasm for them to stay reminded me of the time he tried to convince my mom and father to hang out with us after we were first married. "Oh please stay!" the subtext of which was "So you can delay my wife and I having sex on our honeymoon!" Had they done so Chris would not have been born nine months later and be standing in front of me with a big grin and some wooden splints he wanted to attach to my chest. "Oh are they going? I had another one. I am not saying my mom is a slut, but she has had more balls in her mouth than hungry, hungry hippos" he called after the Waxermans as they walked off the patio. Chris laughed and called out the Waxermans once they were out of ear shot "You find it offensive? I find it funny." When they were gone I breathed a sigh of relief. "I did white alert Sir," I said in a very submissive and respectful tone. "Now will you PLEASE help get Roscoe out of me, please?" I begged. I had done everything and more that my husband could have expected – surely he would help me. "What? After your son took the time to walk and get those splints for you?" Bill answered me sadistically. I am sure my face going from hopeful to hopeless only amused him more. "Sir, please, that was all pretend for their benefit. You know I don't really think any of those things?" I implored him – I was still freaked out about Roscoe and now that the joking had passed I was starting to panic again. "You are getting a little too uppity for your own good. I still don't know what all this," he pointed to Roscoe "was about but I know you don't want to question a punishment, do you?" Bill folded his arms. "No Master," I knew I would get punished anyway – even if I was confused about the exact lesson being taught with the punishment. My husband pulled me upright by my hair so that I was still on my knees – Roscoe yelped because he was still trapped behind me. Chris fastened two of the wooden splints to each of my nipples and tightened them down to bind them – squishing them in between two thin pieces of wood no wider than Emory boards. I made a face of pain as they crushed my nipples and forced my piercings to stick straight out. "Stick out your tongue, slut" Bill slapped the back of my head. I did as I was instructed and waited for my son to treat my tongue the way he did my nipples. I had done this before and it hurt but it wasn't the end of the world. I just accepted what was happening to me. Then Chris did something I did not expect. He fingered my clit ring and started to play with me. I looked down but he smacked my jaw playfully so I had to look straight ahead while holding my tongue out. "You know I would think with big tits like this you couldn't even see what I was doing – sort of like a blind spot" Chris joked. His dad held my tits apart and said "Naw, she has enough cleavage she can peak down at her toes every now and then" as he lifted and separated my chest for his son's amusement. Chris started playing with my clit more intensely and using his finger to rub into my pee-hole. If I hadn't had my hands bound behind me I am positive I would have tried to stop him twice because it was driving me absolutely crazy. I would imagine it's the feeling a man has if someone tried to stick a toothpick down his pecker hole. Chris was poking and prodding and Roscoe was yelping as he helplessly flailed around on my back – unable to separate from me. I grunted but I couldn't say anything with the splint on my tongue – not that it would have changed their minds. That is when I finally felt the splint Chris had in mind for my clit. It bit down as it squished my clit and exerted pressure to make it go flat. "It looks like mom has a little dick," Chris said. Bill held my tits apart so I could look down and see what he was talking about. Chris had managed to pull my clitoris inside out so that it looked like a little cock head and the nerve endings that were normally hidden inside were fully exposed and smashed under bound wooden splints. I tried to breathe through my nose as the new sensation washed over me. "She is pissing, oh my gawd" Chris gasped. "That's not piss son, your mom is squirting." Bill explained. He was right – I've never done that before. I didn't even know that was a thing. "Shit just got insta-real!" Chris laughed. "Yes it did, son. I've never seen her do that before. It's like old faithful gushing." Bill laughed and I wondered if I was going to turn purple because I was already a deep shade of red. I knew I was swollen and aroused – but oh my god, this was like nothing I had ever felt before and I shamelessly sprayed myself all over Roscoe's cock and down my leg. The walls of my vagina were spasming in a way I had never experienced and lack the ability to even describe. I suppose this is what men feel when they orgasm. I was panting and all at once deeply aroused and embarrassed. "Check out mom's Twitter" Chris reached between my legs and tickled me as I was helplessly spasming. "Twitter?" Bill asked. I had heard of the website that you blog in 144 characters on but I had no idea what my son was saying either. "Yah, between the twat and the shitter" He fingered the little space of flesh between both. I have to admit I almost laughed and that caused me to leak more 'mom juice' as he called it. He pulled on the base of Roscoe's dick with his fingers and laughed. "Yep, you got it lodged in there pretty good." Then he petted his dog and calmed him down and forced me back on all fours. I couldn't pull my tongue back into my mouth. My nipples were screaming something between pain and pleasure and my clit was the loudest of all – it was almost completely unbearable. The guys laughed and fist bumped while walking back inside – ignoring my spasming orgasm. I heard Bill ask "You think her asshole was puckering when you fingered her twitter?" "Who cares?" Chris answered and with that the schwipp of the sliding glass doors closed as the men left me out there to wait out my punishment. ------- Chapter 46: Bill's Journal: When Life Gives You Lemons Shove them up your wife's ass ****Note to reader: This is an excerpt of Bill's journal from Thursday morning from his perspective. The events take place around 11 am after the Waxermans leave. In order to increase readability, some of the dialogue exchanged was altered to appear in a 'narrative' story format. CASH EARNINGS THURSDAY WENDY: $0 WEIGHTS: 0 JAMIE: $50 WEIGHTS: 0 I have to admit this has been one of the strangest mornings I have ever had. This is coming from a man who has kept his wife and teenage daughter in bondage every day for the last few weeks and before that was their slave. Then again I never would have predicted the Baltimore Ravens at the Superbowl so it shows what I know. I think about the family feud the Harbaugh brothers must have had coaching their own teams to the Super Bowl and wonder about the Family Feud that began all of this with my wife. It was over a month ago she laid down the law. She just wanted us to exercise and eat right and take responsibility for the things we were doing. She felt I wasn't pulling my weight around the house – or being serious about finding a job. She was absolutely right – I was not. I played around on the internet all day. I was letting her clean up, cook dinner, and earn our income. She came home and handled the bills and I stayed on the couch and watched Walking Dead marathons and racked up mileage on our Netflix account. I snuck around and tried to start an internet porn business and about a dozen other 'get rich quick' schemes that all backfired in my face. I didn't realize even then I was playing right into Cathy Griffin's hands without realizing it. She had sent these girls over to model for me for next to nothing to shame and humiliate them. I thought they were just being extra nice to me. I had no idea I was just an unwitting little pawn in that girl's wicked games. She wasn't trying to ensnare me or blackmail me – I was just some oaf that she used to test the girls she had already blackmailed. My role was to be the ugly troll of a middle-aged has-been athlete who would try to paw them and humble them while they smiled for my camera. I hid this from my wife and the money I had spent on it. I focused on leveling up my mage in World of Warcraft when I should have been the man that I have started to become in the last few weeks. Wendy enlisted the aid of my daughter to teach Chris and me a lesson and rather than stand up to her or even accept my own shortcomings I just left – I ran. By all rights, she won that round of the Family Feud we have been having. When Chris and I came back hat in hand – we ended up agreeing to everything Wendy said. They teased us and toyed with us and cuckolded us. Cathy Griffin once again showed up to turn our world upside down. If it had not been for Cathy accidentally discovering the porn collection I had made out of the other cheerleaders she had sent over - we may never have appeared on Cathy's radar. She is a high school girl who makes a habit of destroying lives when she is bored. She put Chris and I back in charge – but we had never been in charge in the first place. Chris and I had never wanted to be the rulers of the house. I had been raised to believe that was the man's job but somewhere between getting laid off from my job, getting out of shape and my wife making more money than me I forgot about that fantasy. We were happy just being irresponsible lay-abouts. We had no idea how to run things. When power came to us – we got greedy. I wrote up an elaborate training plan and began to visit discipline on my wife and daughter that was much, much, much more intense than anything they ever had me do. They agreed because they felt guilty about what they had done and were being good sports about taking their payback. They agreed that it had to be more sexual in nature because I convinced them that while they valued us exercising and eating right like they do – we valued seeing their tits jiggle and shake. I convinced them they had to accept pain and humiliation and bondage as part of this and I will admit – half the time I had no idea they would agree but they did. By all rights – the guys won that round of the Family Feud we have been having. Then these last few weeks we lost the house, Wendy lost her job, Jamie was kicked out of school and the girls became prostitutes on Martin Luther King, boulevard. They did this because they have discovered something in themselves that I can't quite explain. I have had a lot of emotional growth the last few weeks and I have started to write my feelings down where before I didn't have enough of them to bother writing down. A few weeks ago I would have considered the word 'emotional growth' to be pointless psychobabble - I would still say it was if anyone knew I was using it. However, I still lack the capacity to really understand why my wife and daughter are so good to us and yet we are still such dickheads to them. Case in point – My son just pulled his mom's clit all the way inside out right in front of me. I've never even gone down on the woman in almost twenty years of marriage much less seen that part of her anatomy reversed in front of me. It looked like she had a tiny cock sticking out – I had no idea women even had those. Then he tied two small wooden slits to it to squeeze it. He did this because I told him to do it to punish her. She not only let us do that – but later tonight she is going to go out and fuck strange men for money for us. Who wins this round of Family Feud? - And is this the final round? If so – what is the damned prize we've been doing this for? If I were a little more introspective I would probably see some metaphor here – because I know there is one. I just don't have the words for it. I was an athlete in high school – not a writer. I have so much respect for my wife's strength and stubborn willingness to finish what she started. I just hate to tell her that because then she may take that for weakness. I have to admit today we were outside in front of those crazy Waxerman people and she said something about wanting to suck nigger cock. I thought I was going to orgasm in my pants. I pretend I get jealous – but in truth I love my wife and I know she loves me. I know she is doing all this because I made her do it and now she feels this is the only way to make enough money to keep us afloat. The crazy bitch even wants to use that money to get me to the Internet forum. How can I tell her that what mattered so much to me a year ago – Showing up my nemesis Iceman at the internet user forum means so little to me now? That we should use that money for food, and a new place and a new life? She wants me to go to the damned thing so badly – everyone does. I feel like Rick in the Walking Dead. I am the guy who has to lead everyone through the Zombies – they look to me to be their leader and yet I am not sure what I am doing. Today Mrs. Waxerman marched her hot, little redneck teenage niece over here for some sort of hillbilly lesson in discipline. I couldn't be sure if they were serious or not – the niece seemed like she was having fun with pushing her aunt's buttons – at least until we started pushing her buttons back. I would be lying if I did not think that was a ripe little piece of fruit that was about ready to be plucked. My son impressed me by flirting with her the other day at the pool party. He has definitely come out of his shell since he got put in charge of the girls. I thought at first the girl was the country version of Cathy Griffin – a little redneck bitch. If a teenage girl had got naked in my living room a few weeks ago I would have been really shocked. Especially if it was not because I paid her from a craigslist ad I had put up thinking I would get rich taking dirty pictures. This morning when she undressed right in front of me – I barely blinked an eye. I've come a long way in what shocks me. I was surprised that she was willing to do it and honestly I did not understand why. She had this attitude like not only did it not bother her but it was as if she was daring them to spank her harder. I have to admit I am not the sharpest knife in the shed but it seemed like maybe she was trying to impress Chris by stripping at our house. I couldn't be sure if she expected her brothers to walk in and catch her doing it. It almost seemed like she got more turned on masturbating in front of them. When they started spanking her she had this sassy attitude that was almost like "Go on and do what you are going to do, hurry up and get this over with." It was if she was daring them to spank her ass. I have to admit – I don't' really understand teenage girls. I probably read the situation wrong entirely but once I heard her say something about 'White Alert' – I knew Chris had told her we fuck with her Aunt's head and she was fine – then I could have fun with it. It would have been nice if Chris had told her to give me a little lap dance to that country song. I loved watching her smile and dance around to that hillbilly music. I played it pretty cool though - I have to admit – no one noticed I was totally hard the entire time. You may wonder if I felt guilty she was a teenage girl fully exposed in my living room in front of her brothers. I don't because not only are girls my daughter's age a lot more experienced than the ones when I was growing up – it seemed like that sassy little bitch was having fun with it. I didn't enjoy that as much as watching my daughter and wife struggle and squirm. The girl's ass was tight as a drum and she seemed oblivious at times – like either she didn't care or she enjoyed it all. Can't help but admit – I wonder how much of the weird situation was influenced by what Mrs. Waxerman thinks we are doing here? I think it is kind of interesting how the chain of events that Cathy Griffin kind of started has led to all of this. Can you imagine if Cathy Griffin was bent over in front of me? – I could spank that ginger bitch's little white ass so fucking hard. I bet she would be sorry for all the shit she has started then! One thing I really liked was the "V" position. They had her spread her legs and put her nose directly to the floor while holding her ankles - I'd like to see Cathy in that position for a few hours. I'll settle for Jamie and Wendy though. The Waxermans are fun – even if those boys are kind of creepy. I keep thinking one of them is named "Malachi" and he is going to start talking about "He who walks behind the rows" like in Children of the Corn. I mean I don't think they are crazy, but let's just say I would not want to feed them after midnight or get them wet. We walked out in the backyard and I did not expect it – but my wife was fucking Roscoe without being told to do it. I've seen her do some disgusting things – made her do them. However, seeing this really floored me. I will never forget the mental image of my wife bent over with Roscoe's tongue wagging as he humped her from behind. I was not quite sure why she decided to do it – but the Waxermans didn't shit bricks or freak out like this was the most unusual thing in the world. Mrs. Waxerman even mentioned some crazy aunt of hers who fucked dogs or something. I remember questioning her about all the men she fucks and she said "Nigger Dicks" and I got a surprising boner. I have to admit – I would love to come up with a reason for her to fuck only black guys. I can't figure out why it turns me on to think of my very white suburban wife and daughter having "For black cock only" written on their cunts and fucking blacks but it turns me on. However, knowing Chris he would make some joke about how we can't fuck them now because we are white guys. I am the boss – but I have to be reasonable. Anyone with money can fuck my wife - that is the only fair way to do it. I also don't want to be accused of reverse racism - I just have to admit though, the idea of her servicing only black guys makes me hard as a fucking rock. I have to admit though, seeing my wife let my son pull her little clit-dick or whatever it is called all the way out of her and squeeze it? I wanted to fuck her right then. I had to play it cool and ignore her though. There is something about not giving her attention that seems to turn that twisted bitch's screw. I have been wondering what is going to happen when this is all over for a long time. I've probably been thinking about it since before the County Fair – hell since before I handed my wife the first draft of "Bill's Bill" outlining all the rules. At the time – I thought I would get a slap in the face and have to sleep on the couch when she saw what I wanted the two of them to do. I was pretty sure once the girls earned the one hundred stars we would awkwardly never talk about this time again. The kids were almost grown and they would move out without saying too much about it and then maybe in their thirties when I am an old man they would laugh about how crazy it was. The last few days I have not been so sure that is how it is going to go down. I assumed my wife and daughter would eventually take out their piercings – by the looks of them they are uncomfortable and leave them constantly aroused or even sore. I think they will keep the tattoos they have on their asses as some kind of reminder of what they did – and the thought of my wife admitting she is my whore in bed is very hot. Would she keep her collar on? Could I insist she be naked in my presence at home? Would I feel right continuing to fuck Jamie's tight little asshole? Could I ever talk to her like a daughter instead of a piece of fuck meat that I disciplined? Would she even let me? Would they hate me for what we make them do? Is there a line I will cross where it is all fun and games and white alert into being a sadistic asshole who pushed his wife and daughter too far? I have to admit I thought I crossed that line a dozen times already. I tried to give my wife an 'out' and let her stop me from treating them like shit and she got mad at me for giving up. I came back to the motel two days ago and said "The beatings will continue until morale improves," and they seemed to cheer the idea that I would be a hard-ass and keep cracking the whip. When I think about the future – I secretly want to keep cracking that whip but then I feel kind of guilty about it. How much of this am I thinking with my little head instead of the one on my shoulders? I want to talk to Chris about it – but if he sees I am not confident and that I don't have a plan will I just be stirring up doubt in him? My son – I tell him how proud I am of how he has changed over the last few weeks. I was impressed with how cool he was around Delilah. She obviously did her little striptease number for his benefit and she is probably used to holding guys under her thumb with a wink and a smile – but Chris played it so aloof. That probably drove that little country bitch wild. Honestly – I am proud of Jamie too. She is at the motel strapped naked in broad daylight to the back of the motel because her mother did it the day before. She willingly agreed to be tied up out there and I bet when we show up out there she is going to fall on her knees and beg me to discipline her for her farting or shitting or burping or whatever thing she thinks I think the little perfectionist did wrong. The women DO need me to judge them and make them compete with not only each other but themselves to be better. I get that they need discipline to keep them in the right submissive mind set and that makes me fucking horny as hell. Enough typing on this computer – I need to go outside and get head from my whore of a wife. I had already decided I was going to walk out there and say "Hey Cum breath, suck on this dick" and just taker her mouth. Just as I was about to check craigslist and my email one more time to see who has made offers on our furniture and the stuff I listed from the house there was a knock at the door. I should have gone outside earlier – but now I was obligated to open the door. "The sale is not for another hour," I said as I came to the door – annoyed at the interruption. I assumed it was probably the Waxermans asking if they could come in and talk to me about Jesus while I spanked someone's ass or something for them. "Hello?" I asked skeptically. It was a guy I had seen around the neighborhood but never met. He kind of reminded me of an older Sean Connery – grey beard, sort of dapper. "Hello, I don't believe we have met. I am Doctor Hooker," he had a soft southern accent – like you might expect from a learned southern professor. His was unlike Mrs. Waxerman who put on airs that she was intelligent – it sounded like he had always been smart. "I am sorry the sale doesn't start for another hour or so, but you can come in and look around," I told him skeptically. I might as well start letting in potential buyers if I want to unload all our furniture and knick-knacks. "There is nothing you are going to sell that I am interested in purchasing," I was puzzled by his words. I could have taken that to be an insult but it sounded like he genuinely meant it as a compliment. "I have an envelope for your wife," he extended a white letter to me with the word "Wendy" hand written on it. I was skeptical about accepting it – after all it might be a summons or a bill. "I have another for your lovely daughter," he offered another envelope to me adding "A very friendly girl, she mowed my grass." "Yes, VERY friendly" I offered him a knowing glance to see if he would imply he fucked my daughter by winking back - He didn't wink back. "I heard from the grapevine," I assumed he meant Mrs. Waxerman because that time he winked and continued "That you were losing your house and going through some trouble. I hope what is in the envelope will be of some comfort to them. I am very impressed and envious of you Mr. Taylor" He smiled, nodded and walked away from our house. I will admit I was tempted to see if there was a check or cash in the envelopes. If not for Chris coming to get me – he was laughing and telling me I had to see what his mom was doing now. I was tempted to ask if she was still squirting cum out of that pussy-hole but I just remained stoic and silent as I followed my son outside. I walked outside and Roscoe had come "un-popped" from my wife. Roscoe was licking his own balls while my wife groaned on the cement with her hands still cuffed behind her back. "What are you doing?" I demanded. She looked up at me as if to ask 'what more do you want of me?' with her silent expression. I ignored the look and pointed out a Taylor male was washing his own balls. "When a Taylor women's mouth is free? We can't have that! Crawl over there and take care of it." Chris was giggling as his mom dutifully inch-wormed herself over chest-first on the ground to where Roscoe had parked himself and worked her face over his crotch to suck his dick. She looked at me again as if to ask 'You really want me to do this?' The woman must think I am an idiot and can't pick up on her expressions. How many times must I ignore her silent questions before she realizes I am only going to address them if she asks them with the proper protocol? "Roscoe likes that," Chris teased his mom. I could see her almost stop washing the dog's balls with her open mouth to say something – but she thought better of it. I snapped a few pictures of her doing it on my phone. It was a nice day – the kind that is sunny but a little cool. "Your mom is a good doggy bitch, I like seeing her like this, what about you, Son?" I laughed. "Me too!" Chris replied with a happy smirk on his face – it was a shit-eating grin. "I think she deserves a treat – what do you say we make her cunt off-limits today?" I asked my son. He looked at me as if I was off my rocker before I added "Off limits to white guys anyway. They can still fuck her ass or mouth but she has to tell them her pussy is for blacks or dog dicks." Chris burst out in laughter and I scanned my wife for an expression. She said nothing and continued to throat Roscoe's little dog penis like a good slut. "You appreciate that, don't you Cow tits?" I poked her ass with my shoe. She nodded and took her mouth off Roscoe's dick "Yes Sir" – but I knew she desperately wanted to say something. I assumed she would try to appeal to my logic that some men would want to fuck her pussy and that was less money overall or just appeal to my sympathy. Instead, she returned to sucking the family dog. It is good to be the King sometimes. Chris had a sharpie with him from earlier. He made his mom spread her legs and lift her belly off the ground while she sucked Roscoe and wrote "For Black Cock Only" above her cunt. The dumb fuck wrote it upside down though because of how she was facing – tummy down. I didn't say anything to him about it. I think he realized his mistake after he finished writing it but he didn't say anything about it. "Once you go black you never go back," Chris laughed. "Well you could go back, but why though?" my son joked to no one in particular - I still don't fully understand that boy. "I suppose the little slut will want to be just like her mama and go black cock only in her piss-hole too" I thought out loud about my daughter – more to humiliate Wendy than to hear it out loud. "Yeah, it will be a fair competition if the two of them can see how many black cocks they can spear in those cunts of theirs," Chris kicked his mom directly on hers with the flat of his shoe while she kept her legs spread and sucked a dog dick. I really thought by now she would have told us to stop – but she continued to accept it all. I decided today I would see just how far I could push her before she broke down and either told me to stop or cried – then I would give her a weight for her sopping wet cunt and see if she let me add it anyway. "I hope you are up for a little fun today Cow Tits. Our credit is shot, we have nothing to fall back on and after this weekend the house will belong to the bank – so you might as well visit our neighbors and amuse them because we probably won't see these suburban assholes after this." She nodded her head yes and kept sucking Roscoe's dick as ordered. I pulled her up by her hair off our pet and told her "As much as you'd love to stay here and suck dog dick, let's get you dressed." I brought her to her feet. Roscoe seem confused that she stopped. I've noticed dogs really have only one concept of time 'forever'. You could literally rub their heads for four hours straight and when you stop they will look at you 'why did you stop?'. If you leave the house for five minutes they will act like they thought you would be gone forever when you walk back in with the mail. I think actually. I heard George Carlin explain that once – I can't really take credit for that one. "Dad, I gave Mom's clothes to the Waxermans," Chris explained. I wasn't sure why he had done that in the first place. "They were way sluttier and I thought we could just take mom to work naked." Chris didn't really have to explain himself to me but he probably thought he had too. I just smiled at him – it was a detail and I am not really a detail guy. "Fine, let's get her inside and see if Delilah's clothes will fit your mom," I could see from the look on Wendy's face she knew the slender little teenage cunt's clothes weren't going to fit. "You will wear the slats over the nipples and on your dingle dangle!" I reached down and gave a flick to the wooden slats we had put on her clit. I could see my wife's face perfectly reflect humiliation and intense stimulation. I won't lie – it gave me wood. We walked her into the living room and I unlocked her handcuffs. As she started to rub her own wrists she meekly thanked me. "Don't thank me yet. I just uncuffed you because I wanted you to take that lemon in the fridge," I pointed to the kitchen and said "and shove it up your ass before we go on any further." She looked at me as if I were crazy and I gave her a look like 'you better not look at me like that' – but said nothing and waited. She dutifully obeyed and retrieved one of the only things left to eat in the fridge and shoved it up her ass. "Son, When life gives you lemons," I started to say. "You make your wife shove them up her ass?" Chris finished the thought for me and smiled. I smiled too. ------- To Be Continued... ------- Posted: 2011-09-15 Last Modified: 2013-03-03 / 05:20:40 pm ------- http://storiesonline.net/ -------