The Family Feud III

Chapter Two
“Family A Fair”

STAR COUNT:
WENDY: 21
JAMIE: 21

“What do we have here?” Bill said stopping after a short walk from the Sponge bob Squarepants stage in front of a small out of the way portable wooden gazebo off one of the winding side paths from the main midway.

The gazebo walls were only waist high supporting a counter with artist flash on it. It was Airy and open for the potential customers passing by to gawk and be tempted to take a chance on a travel-by-night tattoo artist at a county fair making money off the people who get it on a whim.

“I’ve been meaning to take you down to Chico’s to get hoops like your mother‘s.” Bill told his daughter. “Chris has been having you date every night. You may not get another chance to go for a while, and that is three stars right off the bat. How much you earned off her date’s by the way Chris?”

“Just around tree-fitty.” Chris quipped making a funny voice.

“Wow, thanks ladies. Three hundred and fifty smackers. That buys a lot of deep fried bacon from your service.” Bill took a bite and began chewing to illustrate his point that they were enjoying the fruit of the girl’s labors.

The Taylor women did not like greasy foods. They had both eaten very healthy before all this began, Panini’s, Salads, and Chicken wraps. That being said, with all the smells of exotic foods being cooked, sautéed, and fried wafting by, and watching the men’s faces as they took delicious bite after bite, it was tempting to them.

Jamie started to make her duck lips face, while concentrating on her decision. She stopped herself before committing the faux pas of making that face. It would have probably set her brother off and earned her a correction. “Five stars! and I’ll do it!” She paused.

“Five stars? You can take them out after you earn back your dignity and freedom, you selfish twat!” Bill sounded a little angry, but he was actually amused. “You’ll get three stars, just like your mother did. Take it or leave it.”

Jamie quietly debated asking for four, and then decided to ask for something she had secretly wanted before her penance for helping torment and tease the Taylor men had ever begun. She had just been too shy and embarrassed and caught up in her “Good girl” persona to ask for it. “Three, yes sir. That is very generous! Can I ask that I get a belly ring too, a pretty one that I can keep after our time is up?”

Belly button piercing amongst her peers was very popular and accepted as mainstream at her school.

“Always thinking of your own vanity!” Bill’s grumble mixed with a tinge of delight wasn‘t fooling anyone that he was excited. “You two ready for a tattoo?” he asked vainly, knowing they probably would not go for it.

“Sir, I don’t want to be a party pooper, but didn’t Hector tell us we needed a notarized application?” Wendy asked cautiously. She regretted asking and sounding like a nag, at the same time pointing out problems like that was so part of her nature she found herself hard pressed to stop. She remembered the man at the tattoo parlor who did the piercing telling her how the law worked for minors who want piercings.

“Hi Guy, can my daughter get some piercings? “ Bill asked the sweaty bald man inside the gazebo, without answering his wife as if to prove a point. He was in the process of doing a tattoo on a woman’s arm.

“Do bears shit in the woods?” he responded without looking up from his tattoo work. The jolly tattooed man inside the Gazebo seemed like the kind of guy who didn’t stand on the letter of the law, which is probably why he wasn’t working at a legitimate tattoo parlor in the first place.

Wendy wanted to bring up how it would be better to go to a more reputable place that would be here after the weekend, and the possibility of the tattoo artist using unsanitary needles. She knew those were all passive aggressive delaying actions. She knew that was what everyone expected her tactic would be. In truth, she just didn’t want her daughter to have to expose herself completely out in the open-air gazebo, and having gone through the piercing process she wanted to shield her from it.

The artist, still intent on his work said, “Had a biker chick in Tucson, tattoo a “Fuck Obama: Yes We Can” right on her tits. Didn’t care who walked by. Some artists won’t do tattoos like that, but I don’t give a shit. Only thing I don’t do is Nazi stuff. Had it done in about ten minutes, but she got some stares. Half of the fun of coming to the fucking fair is to people watch. You know what I mean?”

Wendy hadn't wanted to like what was going to go down, and she still had her reservations remembering how humiliating her own piercing had been. She knew Bill was going to want the tattoo. She really wanted to give it to him. It was just 'skin' after all, but it was her skin, at least it would be after this was all over. For now, it was his, and technically Chris's too. Wendy wasn't paying attention to Mikey's sales pitch, as much as she was listening to her own inner monologue.

That metaphorical angel who sits on one shoulder that tells you what is right, and the demon who sits on the other shoulder telling you how much you really want this and how happy Jim will be. The part Wendy couldn't reconcile was that the angel seemed to be telling her to give Bill this one. She'll be with him for the rest of her life, til death do she part. The red devil on the other shoulder seemed to be the one warning her what other people would think of her, if they found out.

She wondered who COULD find out? Obviously while she was obliged by her agreement to finish her term as Bill's slave, she really was his whore. Anyone who saw her ass over the next two weeks is probably going to know that too. After that, other than bikinis, she probably had nothing to worry about. She looked forward to monogamy, Steve was wearing her out during working hours.

She had a lot to think about, and now was one of those moments, that would set the tone for the rest of the night. If she was pissy about this, it would also probably mean neither she nor her daughter got their 20 stars. Bill could be stubborn when he fixated on something and she had heard him mention tattoos at least a few times since last Monday. A tattoo of ownership, was enough of a staple of erotic BDSM stories, that even with only the few she had read, she knew that much.

“Five stars for you, that is above and beyond the other ten you could earn! Get the tattoo we discussed last Monday!” Bill offered his wife only half-listening to the tattoo artist’s story. He was feeling gracious and he wanted his wife to get that tattoo. It would be a big reassurance to him that he has established dominance over her. “But you’ve got to agree to keep it for at least a year after this before getting it removed.” stipulating his condition.

“Honey, I am just worried that it’s entirely open in there, is all.” Wendy was afraid her daughter, who had no experience with piercing besides her ears wasn’t really seeing how exposed they’d be.

“Mom, don’t worry about it. He wouldn’t do it, if it was like totally over the top.” Jamie whined. She was book smart, but a little too trusting at times for her own good. She was a good person, so she assumed too often, that many other people were. At least that is how Wendy took her daughter’s desire to go through with this here at the fair.

“Hey, if you’ve been to a Claire's in the mall, it’s actually pretty fast. I’ve got no privacy veil, but I get most of my business because other people see what I am doing, and think it’s cool and want the same thing. That is why my price is cheaper than anything you are going to find at a brick and mortar.” The tattoo artist still hadn’t looked at them, he was finishing up on the work he was doing, totally focused on his current client. “In about two minutes I’ll be done, whichever one wants to come inside the gazebo, they can start getting ready, is the area shaved?”

“You won’t find a hair on them.” Chris bragged.

“Good, had a dude with his chest so hairy, I had to charge him extra. I called it a sheering fee!” The artist was fixed on his work, moving the motor powered needle with precision on his client’s shoulder, dabbing and sponging as he went. The woman he was doing it too on his client chair was in her mid-40s, didn’t say a word. She lay facing forward, her chest pressed against the back of the chair, straddling it. His client was attractive, in a trailer park kind of way, brown hair with frosted tips, but her skin was leathery from too much tanning.

“Okay Crystal, let me set it for you!” The tattoo artist raised his hand to slap her tattoo, a big smile on his face.

“Don’t you slap my back, Mikey D! You motherfucker!” The client’s husky voice made sexy by whiskey and cigarettes.

“Spoil sport! It is a tradition. Everyone gets their ink set, otherwise it won’t last.” Mirth on his face, but she wasn’t having any of it, getting herself ready to leave without another word.

“Who is next?” he asked, while the woman pulled up her pink chiffon tube top, flashing just a hint of side boob without a hint of embarrassment towards the customers who caught a glimpse. She collected her things and left without paying, probably having paid before the job began. He didn’t offer her any aftercare instructions or try to sell her any ointments, already focused on his next job.

“Mom, you said I could make up my own mind about things, I’d actually like piercings. She didn’t stamp her feet, but the way she pivoted on her hip before quickly straightening up, gave that impression.

“If you get them, I am getting the tattoo!” Wendy countered, hoping her daughter would back down. In retrospect, Wendy realized that might have been a bad tactic to take. She didn’t have many options, her control and authority was gone. Bluffing her daughter into backing down made sense in the split second she had to decide to say it. Now that it was out there on the table, she didn’t know how to reel that back in.

“Okay, is that supposed to stop me? If I was old enough to get a tattoo, I’d probably get one too.” Jamie wasn’t being defiant, but she wasn’t sounding submissive either. Bill tolerated this, since he was pleased Wendy saying she wanted the tattoo served his interests and he didn’t care why she did. He also liked when the two of them bumped heads. It was a lot better than when they put them together to undermine him, he laughed at his own thought.

“Dad, your daughter is 18, right?” The tattoo artist asked, calling Bill by the name everyone else used for him.

“Yes, she is, just turned.” Bill calmly lied, realizing the question was a farce, from a guy looking to make a sale.

“Works for me. You want a tattoo, come sit up here in Uncle Mikey’s chair, Birthday girl, and show me where you want it.” Mikey shop was cash only, no checks. He didn’t like paper trails, he didn’t like government. If someone would have asked him, he’d explain how he was Libertarian and didn’t believe in taxes or alimony (Him owing both extensively not withstanding). No one actually did ask him about that, but I suppose now you know he was ready if they had. It was good enough for Bill, that the two men had an understanding that Bill’s word would suffice for any notary.

Bill also felt he would have had the papers notarized anyway, so he didn’t feel one iota of guilt about ignoring a law just because he hadn’t gone through all the motions with it. This was the time to get the piercings, and possibly Wendy’s tattoo, he had a good feeling about that. He liked the tattoo artist much better than he did the guy who did his wife’s piercings. He felt he could relate to him, and liked his sense of humor. He also liked the fact that the guy seemed to be willing to do them both for about fifty bucks.

“Can I go first at least, Sirs?” Wendy asked, hoping that if her daughter saw how humiliating it was, she’d change her mind.

“Way to go, Mom!” Chris shouted encouragingly.

“Hey, the family that tattoos together” Mikey said trying to think of something clever “Probably does a lot of shit together, whoever wants to go next, come on down… you are the next contestant on ‘Hurry the fuck up‘” his voice intoned like a game show announcer.

Wendy strode reluctantly into the gazebo. It was dusk, and the fair had hours to go before it would be packed with people eager to experience the first night of the fair. It was still just busy enough to make Wendy feel vulnerable, but not so much that anyone could call it a crowd.

She stood next to Mikey nervously, summoning her courage, looking over her shoulder while scanning her family. Past Bill and Chris’s excited faces, to Jamie’s for some sign she’d back down. There wasn’t, it was more of a hopeful excitement.

“Okay, what do you want me to do?” Mikey asked Wendy.

“She wants Cumdump on her right ass cheek.” Bill answered very sternly. Bill had been using words like this around the girls enough the past week, that it was no surprise to either of them. It still hurt to hear and picture a tattoo like that, but it wasn’t the first time Wendy had heard this request. Jamie on the other hand, had the folly of youth working against her, a bad choice in tattoos for the rest of one’s life (even covering it or getting it removed) just wasn’t’ registering as something to dread.

“Seriously?” the artist’s face was mock disbelief, as he raised his eyebrows to look up at Wendy for confirmation, wheeling his stool around to face her.

“Hey, it‘s your money. But, I’ve got to warn you, I mean you saw the last job I did. With that skirt you’ve got on, I don’t know how I can do it with a lot of privacy.” He directed her to sit on the chair, backwards, so that she was straddling the same way his last client had.

Mikey lifted her skirt slightly, exposing a tiny amount of pink cheek. He had to get off his stool and under his client chair, looking up. “I could do it from down here, I guess but the letters would be really small.”

“Regular size letters.” Bill instructed, “Can she take off the skirt?”

“Sure could, but I can’t promise the security won’t boot you out of here.” The artist assumed that wasn’t an option. He didn’t know the Taylors yet, though.

“You said that biker chick in Tuscon got her boobs tattooed.”

“Well yah, but it was at a Biker festival, and everyone was popping their tops. I mean look, you pay me 25 bucks, I’ll write just about whatever you want, you pick the flash.” Tapping the designs of butterflies and sailors, and various lettering styles that adorned the wooden counter surrounding the inside of the gazebo, where the flashes were displayed.

“Flash that ass, right Mom?” Chris answered spontaneously.

Wendy’s chest was pressed against the chair, facing away, her back to the family and to the fair itself. She couldn’t tell if her son was kidding or giving an order.

“Yes Sir, Let’s make it easy for the man, he doesn’t have a lot of time.” She was already standing up, bending over and sliding down the skirt, after unsnapping the suspenders that were for decorative purposes only anyway. “Can my daughter hold my skirt?” Her question rhetorical to sound polite, already handing Jamie her clothes exposing herself from the waist down in the gazebo.

Fair goers walking past would have had no idea she was naked from the waist down, because the gazebo just happened to have wooden barriers as high as the counter top the artist displayed his flash art. If they had stopped right where the Taylor Family was standing they would have had a complete view of her hairless pussy, and firm naked ass.

“How do you want me, Sir?” Wendy said to the stunned artist, who now had another story for his collection, to tell future customers about something crazy that happened to him one night.

“I want you cloned, and shipped to my mobile home.” Is all he said, while bending her gently at the waist and having her straddle his artist chair as before. This time with her pert, bare cheeks spread.

“You might want to form a human wall, kind of block the people who pass by.” Mikey advised the Taylors while preparing his inks. “Definitely, want to ask your son to turn around.” As if that didn’t even need to be said to be understood.

Wendy answered “They are fine where they are Sir. Don’t you make your money if people watch you do one. They’ll want the same work?” She was secretly hoping a security guard WOULD come by, and stop this. Then maybe her teenage daughter would not end up making a decision about piercing and tattoos that will be with her for the rest of her life.

The family did not move, although Jamie was starting to have a few second thoughts about going through with it. Her mom couldn’t see that on her face, because she had her eyes shut, facing the opposite direction praying to end this quickly.

“You’ve got to pick some flash, do you want to put your skirt on, and look at some?” Mikey was still asking Wendy, clearly not noticing the power-shift in the family.

“That is up to Bill or Chris, whatever they want it to say.” Wendy said, trying to sound courageous and submissive at the same time.

“Ooh Dad, Can we do what she had on Monday night?” Chris sounded very excited. Chris is the type of guy that if a car was good, a car with flames painted on the side is better, and a car with MORE flames painted on the side is even better than that. Just like his sister, he also suffered from the impetuousness of youth that he really didn’t understand how extreme a tattoo like that could seem. It was just funny and spur of the moment to him.

Bill was dead set on his original choice “Cum dump” and had forgotten what they had written on her on Monday. They had taken to writing on the girl’s bodies things like “Sugar tits” and “Honk if you are horny.” Bill remembered what it was and decided that may be too obscene “I’d kind of like my idea, besides I don’t think the tattoo artist, wants to do something like that”.

Mikey looked up at Bill and called him the name the others had been “Dad, I’ve got three ex-wives who all want alimony or child support. I make my money because I do good tattoos quickly, and I don't try to sell a lot of extra bullshit or fill out pointless government forms. This is 'tween you and me. Fuck the people that own the fair, or the Government. They only get what I am willing to give them.” Mikey's tone might have sounded serious but he had a naturally jovial way of explaining things that didn't sound very subversive.

“The Tat I just did, that was my ex-old lady Crystal. I haven't seen her in ages, lives down the street from me. I comp'd that one for her. You are my first paying customer, which judging by the start of things, means I am in for an interesting and hopefully profitable weekend. You be cool to me, I'll bend over backwards to help you, my man!” Mikey sounded genuinely sincere that he'd help out anyone in need if he could.

His down to earth no nonsense attitude, put everyone at ease. Wendy had at first felt her heart jump up into her throat when she saw that this place did piercings. She thought fairs were just food and rides, but she saw they sold everything from motorcycle leathers to all that “As Seen on TV” wonder-gadgets that slice and dice, and chop and serve your food.

She kept silently telling herself this was a sign that one person belonged to the other. She did belong to Bill, but as his wife. Wendy realized the futility at continuing to consider the pros and cons of what she was doing. She had already agreed, she had already removed her skirt. This was it, she was going through with it. The butterflies in her stomach launched a full scale attack on her tummy. She couldn't see herself from behind, but she suspected, that her asshole had just puckered. She took small solace in the fact she wasn't currently spreading her cheeks wide enough that everyone else could see it happen.

“I don’t do Nazi stuff, but everything else is fair game.” Mikey reiterated his open-mindedness. “If its price you are worried about, hell, I’ll knock off a few bucks, just because this is hilarious.” He was genuinely amused by what he had seen so far. He didn't normally ramble like this to customers, but there wasn't a lot of foot traffic around and he liked them enough to share his passion about his art.

Chris liked this guy from the moment he met him, grinning at all his jokes. “What about if I wanted Hitler fighting Abraham Lincoln with lasers coming out of his eyes?” Chris asked without being serious. “In an ultimate cage match, also with dragons.” he added details.

“I guess it depends, is Hitler winning?” Mikey’s response, delivered with a smirk, put the kids at ease.

Wendy with her ass completely exposed was tense for obvious reasons, but Bill was uneasy himself. He cut off his son from continuing to price his epic tattoo “Well, you kind of have to hurry anyway, security guard may be coming by?”

It wasn’t clear if Bill was having second thoughts about going through with the tattoo, or if he was just disturbed at not automatically getting his choice of design. He didn't hate his wife and daughter, it wasn't as if he wanted to curse them for life with a tattoo.

He hadn't come into this with a game plan and he was starting to regret the cavalier attitude that he approached this with. He didn't want to appear wishy-washy, and say forget it. He just couldn't help but have doubts if he really wanted his daughter to do it. In his dreams the past week, his wife had his tattoo on her thigh, or ass or some place. A permanent reminder she was his.

Sure, he'd let her out of her payback once she earned the hundred stars. He had felt guilty at times about making them stick with the humiliations and service, but then he would tell himself that if he let them out of it early, THEY would see him as backsliding. He was going to see it through to the end. He was going to ride them like a hard ass, and dammit, he was going to have fun while he did it.

He had made up his mind. He wasn't going back and forth on whether his teenage daughter and wife should get a tattoo. He wanted his wife to get a tattoo, his idea was something fairly subtle, but made its point that she was his. Cumdump, his initials, Chris's idea, they would work for his purposes. If Wendy and Jamie agree to it, then it is on them.

Okay, dammit. He hadn't made up his mind, he admitted to himself.

“You know other than at the main entrance, where they've got a few BIG rent-a-cops, and there may be an actual city cops stationed, I don’t even know if this fair has security. They are mostly interested in keeping out the riff raff. I've never really seen anything go down, that we need cops harshing everyone's buzz, patrolling inside the fair. If some tried to rip off a merchant, there is only one exit, and it's guarded.” Mikey was explaining.

I was just joking about that earlier. Time IS money, so make your minds up. I’ll look at your wife’s sweet ass all day, but I gotta charge.” He grinned looking down at the thin line separating her pear-like ass cheeks.

“How about you pick Jamie’s and I pick Wendy’s?” Bill offered to his son, not really paying attention to Mikey's point about fair security. He had to consider Chris's feelings. He had made him an equal partner in keeping the womenfolk in line, just as Chris had been an equal partner when they had to move out and live in that motel. Just like Chris had been an equal partner when they were both slaves themselves. It seemed only right then, that Chris had equal say.

Jamie asked nervously, almost as if she had to pee “I am kind of having doubts about the tattoo!” nervously fidgeting in place next to Chris.

Bill wasn't surprised. It was his wife he was interested in seeing tattooed. Jamie would be moving out and going on to her own life. Sure, one of his dreams involved the two of them living permanently at his feet. That was a dream. Jamie was a bright girl, with a bright future. If she wanted out of it, he'd let her. He made a mental note to seem reluctant, and make Jamie feel bad for quitting. He'd want to use that as advantage to get the piercings. THAT he wanted her to see. Jamie and Wendy with matching hoops. He had already begun going over scenarios in his mind where he tied them together by their piercings.

No one could see the satisfied look on Wendy‘s face as she heard her daughter say that. She thought her bluff might not work, but it had and it made the butterflies that were currently slam dancing in her tummy, bring their activity to just under a small riot.

“The piercing I am game for” Jamie said without reservation.

“You can’t pussy out now, Sis.” Chris teased his sister, waving five stars. “Besides, who will see it once you get a hundred of these puppies? You won‘t have to drop trow on command!”

Jamie may have been naive, but she wasn’t entirely gullible. She didn’t take his obvious bait to entice her with five stars plus the three for the piercings.

All the while, Wendy’s ass was on display, straddling the tattoo artist’s chair.

“Chris, your sister is old enough she can make up her own mind. If she wants to. She may not be as brave as her Mom.” Bill really was having second thoughts about it now that he noticed people periodically peeking into the gazebo. A couple was just walking past, and as soon as the wife saw the hint of a bare female ass crack, she pulled her man by the shoulder and hustled him away.

Jamie was quiet. A tattoo of a star, or butterfly, there were girls in her school who had those already. She was still, to some extent, the ‘goody-goody play by the rules’ type she had been before this began. There was also a streak of impetuous youth running through her veins, sometimes very playful, like when she helped egg on Mrs. Waxerman’s belief they were all sinners and fornicators or when she had allowed herself to get caught up in dares that went too far. It’s impossible when you are young to realize you have that condition, until you get older and realize like everyone else at that age, you did.

They think their invincible at that age, until something bad happens and they cry, “I didn’t know, I didn’t know.”

This time though it wasn’t just brashness and youthful naiveté’. She was reacting to the conversation with her Mom in the back of her Dad’s truck. When her mom had accidentally revealed she had been fucking her co-worker because Bill insisted. Jamie didn’t know the extent of how far things had gone, but she felt a little betrayed. Betrayed may not be the right word, her trust in her mom to tell her everything was tarnished.

She also felt like maybe she was being coddled. She had agreed to the same rules as her mom, and now it was starting to dawn on her, that she was not being treated like an ‘equal’. She should have appreciated the protection she was being extended, but given that she had just learned these things about her mom, she wanted to prove some sort of point.

“Yes, I’ll do it, but it has to be EXACTLY what Mom has, deal? We agreed to do this together. Same rules.” Her response surprising Bill and even Chris who assumed his sister would back out on the tattoo at the last minute.

Bill had just done reverse psychology on his daughter, playing bad cop/good cop with his son. He couldn’t help but feel self-satisfaction at that accomplishment, even if he hadn’t intended it.

Bill started to remember when the girls were in charge. Wendy would act like a stickler about some rule, and then Jamie would try to ask for leniency. Working together, they’d make him feel like he must be some kind of wimp if he couldn’t do it and damned if he didn’t WANT to do it, after that. He felt like such a fool he hadn’t even realized he’d been hoodwinked by two manipulative cunts until he‘d had a chance to look back on what happened.

“That’s fine then, but no more back and forth, are you abso-positively-fucking sure, you won’t change your mind another time?“ Bill himself was uncertain if a tattoo for his daughter was a good idea, having only really wanted her pierced with hoop rings like her Mom. He was surprised either of them were actually considering the tattoos. In his wildest imaginings, he really had not pictured either of them for the tattoo types.

His wife had a small heart on her ankle, something from college days, but that was years ago and completely discrete. She at least had some idea what the needle felt like. It was show time for Bill. He’d put the decision out there for Jamie. If she was going to say yes, he was going to hold her to it, but he hated to admit to himself, he was hoping she’d back down.

“Yes Sir, I am sure.” Jamie was positive, remembering her conversation in the truck about Steve. She had no idea that was all part of a deal her mom made to keep her from experiencing the rougher stuff. Right now, it was more about proving she wasn’t a meek little girl.

“Let’s flip a coin, head’s she gets mine, tails they get what you want on her tail?” Bill made a pun, suggesting they flip to decide what matching design to go with.

“I’ve just got ones and tens, who carries around coins?” Chris didn’t want to walk back to the arcade to get change. “How about Rock-paper-scissors-lizard-Spock?” Bill had no idea what his son was talking about.

“It is like Rock-paper-scissors, but includes two additional weapons: the lizard” Chris formed his hand into a sock puppet and made a ‘hiss’ noise opening his snake to slither. Spock, making the universal “Live long and prosper” greeting to show the second new option.

“It’s simple, Scissors cut paper, Paper covers rock, Rock crushes lizard, Lizard poisons Spock, Spock smashes scissors, Scissors decapitate lizard, Lizard eats paper, Paper disproves Spock, Spock vaporizes rock, Rock crushes scissors” shocking everyone with his rapid recitation of all the possible outcomes from memory.

“How is it you can’t remember school work, but you can remember all that?” Bill asked.

“If it’s something I like, I am all over it!” Chris smiled proudly.

“Uh guys, for every five minutes you waste of my time, I am going to charge you five bucks.” the tattoo artist was ready to go, having prepared the skin and his inks, and he was ready to get to it. He didn’t like to post price lists, preferring to base his price on how he felt at the time about the customer. Right now, he really liked this family of possible Jerry Springer guests, he just wanted them to make their mind up.

Bill agreed, with a “Whatever” shrug and made a fist symbolizing rock. That was a natural choice for him, since he valued strength and was getting just a little bit frustrated.

Chris flattened his palm for paper, and shouted “Winner!” with glee, holding his hands up in a “V”

“If you weren’t going to throw Spock or lizard, why did you add those?” Bill asked with a confused look.

“Each gesture beats two of the other gestures and is beaten by two. It increases the number of possible outcomes, but all of my friends always put up Spock, so I usually win, because paper disproves Spock. But it also covers rock!”

“All of your friends WOULD throw Spock.” Jamie mumbled to herself. Secretly wondering if kids still ran away to join the circus, and daydreaming if her like would be any less freak show.

“Fine, tell him what you want.” Bill conceded defeat, wondering where his son got his twisted sense of humor.

Chris pointed to elaborate medieval script calligraphy, and told him “WH” on the left cheek, “RE” on the right cheek.

“Where?” Mikey guessed he was spelling “WHERE”

“On her Ass.”

“No, I know where you want the tattoo, I’ve been admiring those honey hams for five minutes while you make up your mind.. I mean, what do the letters mean, your initials or something?” Mikey asked

“There is a natural O in the center.” Chris hinted.

“Okay, yeah that is twisted.” Mikey said, pushing his ink away, and standing up.

Wendy was excited, resting her chin on the top of the padded client chair, she hadn’t seen what was going on, but she had been listening intently. She breathed a small sigh of relief, and started to turn around.

“I’ve got to get my Polaroid if you don’t mind.” Mikey smiled. “I want to put this in my artist book. I love the way your son thinks. The O is the center.” he was laughing as he rifled through a cardboard box to dig out a camera.

“One time, I had a guy come in and wanted something similar, when I was working in a place on the west coast. He wanted his fiancé ‘Wendy‘s name on his dick, as a present for their honeymoon.”

“Hey, my wife’s name is Wendy!” Bill smiled.

“Yeah, I am not sure if she was the same girl” Mikey continued his story not letting Bill‘s coincidence interrupt him, “When his dick shrunk up at half mast, all you could see was the first letter “W” and the last letter “Y”. So they are on their honeymoon in Jamaica and he has to take a piss while they are at the beach. He is standing there at the Urinal, you know, and a black guy comes in and stands right next to him. As guys do, they sometimes check out the guy next to him” all the while, embellishing the story by acting it out.

And as he is acting out the story, Wendy’s bare ass is on display for the people who pass by, and dare to look. Very few stay, some giggle and one creepy guy in the background hadn’t stopped looking since before the joke began.

“So anyway, he says to the man next to him, “Oh, is your wife named Wendy too?” and lets him see the WY tattoo I gave him”, Mikey becomes very amused with his own joke as he delivers the punch line “No Mon” in a Jamaican accent “Welcome to Jamaica Man Have a Nice DaY!” pantomiming a dick sprouting to enormous proportions and emphasizing that it starts and begins with WY.

He begins laughing, and even though this didn’t seem like an appropriate joke to tell in mixed company, coming from a tattoo artist who looks like a biker at a county fair, in this situation it seemed exactly appropriate. His laughter is the kind, most people find hard not to laugh along with and all four, even Wendy chuckled.

“Can I make the O more pronounced, or don’t you want to go there?” Mikey asked Chris no longer bothering to check with Wendy. He set his Polaroid down, and got back on his stool, wiping sweat from his brow. The night was becoming slightly more humid and muggy, as it got darker.

Chris’s response might have included requests for wildebeests and mystical eyed virgins, space ships and cats, but he genuinely trusted Mikey’s opinion of what would be best, and all he said in response was “If you think it will look cool.”

“Oh trust me, man.” Mikey promised and he began to work on Wendy’s ass, the tiny needles biting into her flesh. “This is going to be some of my best work!”

“You sure you want your daughter to get this tattoo too?” he started to make conversation with Wendy, as he let the needles bite into her flesh, spreading their ink as he moved them with precision.

She was beginning to get a hot, scratchy feeling, but it wasn’t as bad as any of the spankings she had received in the past week. The pain was barely noticeable. She’d gone through getting tattooed before, but it was tiny and on her ankle. Nothing remotely as humiliating as this, so she wasn‘t sure what to expect pain wise. She suspected all the paddling on her ass, this past week had actually toughened her up.

“If she wants WHAT I‘ve got coming to me, and Bill and Chris, say it is okay, who am I to tell her no, Sir?” Wendy’s hidden context was meant more as a hidden message to her daughter, although it was lost on Mikey that when she said “WHAT”, she may have been including more than the tattoo in that sentiment.

“True, true. Whoever is paying for it, has the final say. These days, if you forbid them from getting something, they’ll just jab a needle through their nose in the school bathroom, or get a friend to tattoo them up with home-made ink.” he agreed. He was outlining the W in black, going over his lines to shade and add embellishments. There was no turning back now. She would have at least an 8-inch high “WHORE” written on her ass and she had already begun the process.

Mikey asked questions about if the family lived locally, revealing that he traveled 9 months out of the year, but didn’t live too far from this fair himself. He tried to sound interested in what they had to say, but he was just making small talk to try to put his patient at ease so she wouldn‘t move. It was obvious once he got into his work, his attention was 99.99% on his drawing, and never taking his eyes or fingers off Wendy’s left ass cheek to make the first two letters of WHORE.

“If I could just move you a little this way?” Mikey gingerly guided her crack slightly apart. Wendy said nothing, she was retreating to some place in her own mind, and much like the first woman had when they walked up, oblivious to her surroundings and the people watching.

“If you need to pull those ham hocks apart, do what you got to do,” Bill instructed of his wife’s ample, well-rounded ass cheeks.

“I am a Gentleman!” Mikey didn’t stop his lettering as he explained, “I always ask a girl BEFORE I butt fuck her, if I can stick it in her pooper.” laughing gregariously at his own dirty joke.

It didn’t matter if he’d been given permission or not, as the job wore on, he became more comfortable shifting her around. He Paused only now and then to dab away a little blood from the wounds, or droplets of sweat that fell from his brow.

Just as Mikey had entered his own personal world, completely focused on the job at hand, Wendy had retreated into hers. She wanted to cry, but at the same time the fact that she could feel the letters literally being etched into her skin gave her a melancholy emptiness, that she’d turned a corner that she can’t turn around from. ‘It’s going to be on my ass for the rest of my life‘, she thought to herself unable to cry, unable to speak, as she wrestled with the feeling she had just crossed a line she can’t come back from.

When he began to work on her tender asshole, this is where Jamie started to cry. No one could see the tears dripping down her face, not even Mikey. Had he seen them, he might not have said, “It is a shame to get rid of all this natural pink. I am going to burnish the O with some cocks with ribbons on them, really accentuate the asshole so that it could also be a flower, with petals going in all directions.” Adding, “In the context of the other letters, it’s still going to be whore” he patted her on the bottom, as if to reassure her that no one would misunderstand her intention.

The needle buzzing was constant, like a mosquito, and on her ass cheeks, it hadn’t hurt so much. It was exquisite pain, like a thousand paper cuts on the ultra-sensitive asshole nerve endings right at the bud of the hole. She moved every now and then, but Mikey held her firm with his forearm, so she couldn’t shift too much.

She hated to admit, that had Chris not flicked her and thwacked her with a rod so often directly on the asshole (sometimes for an hour), she would not be prepared to endure this pain. “Wendy is a survivor, Wendy will get through this.” She told herself as she tried to block out the pain and humiliation without success. She had gone through two natural childbirths, she assumed she could stand anything.

Other than some tears and regrets, she WAS standing it! Bill was impressed. So were Jamie and Chris, although they didn’t have direct knowledge of what it must feel like, they couldn’t help but feel a certain amount of confidence.

After all, their mom was getting a tattoo this way. She was the most grounded one in the family, with the most common sense. Her getting hers first, was adding legitimacy to it, making it seem ‘normal’ for lack of a better word.

The nighttime was working in their favor, as darkness fell upon the fair it made it more difficult for a passerby to see what was happening in the gazebo. They would have to be standing right at the gazebo to see in. The fair has so many other flashing, blinking lights, that the lamp Mikey used to illuminate his work hardly caught people’s eye, and he hadn’t turned on his flashing neon sign above his gazebo.

This didn’t make them invisible, obviously. People would casually walk up, just seeing three people staring intently inside the gazebo was enough to draw some folk’s attention. Most of the time, it would be a lone male, standing with his jaw slightly open, titillated that he was looking at a woman’s bare ass cheeks. Usually once they figured out the tattoo spelled “WHORE” or if Chris said something goofy to them like, “See a line, stand in it, maybe it goes some place.” the enchantment spell would be broken and they’d wander off, slightly embarrassed or amused by what they just witnessed.

The creepy guy who had been standing in the background for almost ten minutes now, was true to his name. He was ‘creeping up’ on the scene in a roundabout way, trying to seem discrete but making no secret he was staring into the gazebo. He was almost right behind Bill by this point.

He was an awkwardly tall man, with a mustache that may be covering his cleft pallet. To Jamie, he looked like the kind of guy central casting would call when filming a movie and they needed a creepy guy to play someone who abducts people in his white van.

Bill didn’t notice him for a while, but eventually all three of the Taylor’s watching their mother get a tattoo of “WHORE” on her ass had taken note of him and even commented to each other that he was staring.

“See anything you like?” Bill asked the man behind him, while keeping his own eyes straight ahead, trained on his wife‘s keister.

The man said nothing, perhaps not realizing Bill was talking to him, so Bill let it go. He was slightly amused that they had picked up a ‘fan’. As long as the creepy guy wasn’t running to security, or screaming, Bill was happy for someone to witness this. After all, Wendy’s ass tattoo had marked her, he had won! He owned that whore! He thought to himself with a sadistic grin.

With the ink freshly applied, and final dabs of his sponge made, Mikey drew his hand back, looked over his shoulder at Bill to see if he protested. “I’ve got to set the ink, or it won’t last!” and gave Wendy a hard slap on the ass causing her butt to jiggle. Chris laughed, even Jamie was amused, because the shock had made Wendy suddenly take a deep breath, as if she were waking from a dream.

“You better do a few more, I want this ink to last.” Bill said quite seriously.

“I won’t even charge you extra, since you are a two-for-one customer!” Mikey smiled, giving her another hard slap on the other ass cheek.

“Is Ten too many?” Chris asked playfully. By now, Mikey was well past wondering why her son was so amused by all this or making decisions for her.

“I’ve never had that request before, but I could oblige” and Mikey started to spank Wendy hard, under the Gazebo lights.

Wendy realizing what was happening “Three, Thank You Sir, may I have another,” which Mikey took to be her playing along with his fun, counting each one up to ten.

“Not bad! You’ve got a lot of heft, for future reference, her legs should be wide spread so you can reach the inside of her thighs If you need to give her a lot of strokes, her ass will go numb if you just pound on the cheeks.”

“I will remember that, thanks.” Mikey said pleased with the stinging he just gave his latest customer’s ass.

“May I put back on my skirt, Sir?” Wendy asked her husband.

“I am not tired of seeing the new tattoo I just paid 25 bucks for, you tired of seeing it yet, Chris?” his son nodded that he obviously wasn’t. “How about you creepy guy?” Bill asked the silent stranger in a bemused tone.

As before, the creepy guy didn‘t answer, he just stared. “I’ll take your silence as a yes vote. Three males vote yes, and both girls get no vote, so it is unanimous. Chris will hold your skirt, while Jamie gets her turn.” Bill announced in an officiating manner.

“Usually, I let my customers decide if they want to use antibiotics or creams. I am more of a volume kind of a guy, I don’t try to sell anyone anything.” Mikey said while using his forearm to steady Wendy before she backed up off the foam chair.

“This is bacitracin. Apply a light layer of this 1-3 times a day for a few weeks.”

“Can you go ahead and give her enough of a layer to last for all night, we may be here for a while.” Bill asked.

“Oh you want me to apply it?”

“Creepy, would YOU like to apply it?” Bill answered Mikey by asking the creepy stranger who offered back no response at all.

Wendy wanted to say something sexy and submissive about letting whoever wants the job, to do it. She was afraid her voice would crack. She could not see the tattoo but she ’felt’ its presence. It weighed on her, she could imagine it in bright letters. WHORE.

Mikey applied the cream, massaging it into her ass cheeks, and all around her asshole with his rough hands. “Oh the things I do for art.” he consoled himself with a grin.

When he had glazed her entire ass with the cream as thickly as he thought Bill wanted. She backed off the sweaty artist’s chair, her boobs having left an impression in his foam rubber cushions like two bowling balls. Her fingers showed imprints where she had dug them into the foam on the side of the chair to suppress her pain.

Jamie was having second thoughts about the entire ordeal, once she had seen the initial blood. It was very light, but it had been intimidating to see during the inking. She was no quitter, but she was also sharing her mother’s nervous butterflies, a feeling that only increased in intensity with every second ticking towards her turn.

Reluctantly walking into the gazebo through a small door in the back, she stood next to her skirtless mother who was trying hard not to rub the tattoo and the sticky ointment awaiting instructions for what to do next.

“I don’t want to be Sergeant Buzz kill, but I feel really weird about someone standing over me while I try to work.”

“Wendy, he doesn’t want you standing, you know what that means?” Bill said.

Wendy was not sure what it meant. She made up her mind very quickly that it must not mean standing, so before she could be told, she answered, “Yes Sir, I do.”

Getting down on the cement sidewalk the gazebo rested upon, with her forehead pressed to the ground, much the way she did in the enema position Mrs. Waxerman had taught them. Using her knees to prop her ass above her head, she reached behind herself and pulled her ass cheeks apart. “Is that better, Sir?”

Mikey, Chris and Bill answered, “Yes” simultaneously, the only absent voice was the creepy stranger, although his eyes followed her every move.

As overly exposed as she was, unless one was standing right at the counter, you couldn’t see her.

“I’ve got just the thing!” Mikey took a magic marker and wrote “TIP$” on an index card, setting it in front of a hat resting in between Wendy’s calves. It was a joke, he didn’t really expect tips, but he wouldn’t have refused them either.

“You are all a trip!” Mikey observed smiling, looking at the beautiful teenage girl who was standing there nervously, apparently unsure what to do with her hands. She seemed so pure and angelic. Mikey knew those were the best bad girls, at least the ones in his fantasies were. He decided not to share that observation with the young girl whose stares seem to demand he be reassuring.

“No pockets, I see?” He teased trying to put her mind at rest, addressing her apparent nervous fidgeting. “Welcome to the Spider’s Parlor, I don’t suppose you have a high pain threshold?”

Jamie answered “Yes, it‘s high.” bravely. She had endured beatings all week, and the worst pain she had ever experienced.

“Liar, you piss your pants when you get a real paddling!” Chris corrected, amused with his Sister’s nervous awkwardness, a feeling he could relate to all too well.

“Nuh-uh, you know I don’t wear pants.” Jamie stuck her tongue out at her brother playfully. She wanted her stars, and she knew to get them, she’d have to play along. It felt very natural to go back and forth that way.

Without further instruction, she pulled her suspenders to the side of her shoulders, letting them flap down below her waist. They were not holding her skirt up anyway, they were just decorative. Then she shimmied out of the skirt, entirely revealing a completely shaved, perfect little pussy.

Without any prompting, she lifted her half shirt with both of her hands over her head, pulling off her shirt, revealing her pert, well rounded tits and cherry pink nipples standing fully erect, the excitement of the moment, having made them stand up on their own.

“Those are extra pink!” Chris observed.

“I rouged them before I came tonight, Sir” Jamie admitted to her brother, knowing full well he had ordered her and her mother to apply a little make up to accentuate the color of their nipples.

“I like it, kind of neon, goes with the gaudiness of the fair.” Chris commented. “I could probably tattoo them permanently that color.”

Bill folded his arms “Next time!”, his body language saying impatient, his voice saying he was riveted to the outcome.

“I am glad you approve of my titties, will you hold my clothes, Sir?” she asked trying to sound brave answering her brother, and hoping she didn’t come across distant and uncaring. She handed Chris her clothes, which he gladly accepted.

“I was actually just going to have you lift up your shirt, while I do the breasts, before doing your clit ring.” Pointing out she had not needed to strip fully naked. Mikey’s tone caught half between amused, and a tone of voice that sounded like ‘sucks to be you’. Glancing down at her mother holding her ass cheeks apart, “You guys are from Candid Candid Camera?”

Jamie had no idea what he was asking, and shook her head, “No Sir”

“This guy is Elmer Fudd” Chris giggled, at the silent creepy stranger, whose expression never changed. He was staring at the two women in the gazebo as if he were hypnotized .

“Elmer Funt” Bill corrected, “It Rhymes with Cunt, like your Mother and Sister”. Not wanting to sound particularly sadistic, “And if you drop the T, it’s Fun…like your Mother and Sister” turning his insult into a type of joke.

“It’s just… I kind of think you guys are putting me on here.” Mikey had been so caught up in his work he had not scanned the midway of customers. He was surprised to see that for an opening Thursday there was a light turn out. It was still early yet, and he had been saddled with an out of the way stand placement.

Mikey noted people walking past, couples with baby carriages, old women, kids, but no one paid much attention to the quiet, slightly dark gazebo. He could have turned on his neon light, and probably brought more people to the spectacle. Instead, he left it off, curious where this was all going.

An old man, with a monkey balancing on a mobile wooden perch was 20 feet away. All the foot traffic passing down through the fair’s byzantine like maze of pathways would be much more focused on the goofy monkey, than wondering about a dark gazebo. Kid s stopping to hand a quarter to the monkey to see what it would do.

Chris for his part, split his attention 50/50. Monkey, then Sister, Sister, then Monkey. Sometimes back to his mother’s shiny ass, reflecting the light from the distant Ferris wheel in the glossy ointment, which made her ass luminescent with a light sheen to it.

“Let’s get the show on the road.” Mikey sized up the possibility he’d get thrown out of this fair as he rubbed his hands together with soap and water in a bucket he had for that purpose. “I’ve been thrown out of fairs before, it wouldn’t be the first, and it won't be the last.” He told himself, directing the teen girl to sit back on the foam chair, facing forward and looking up at his single overhead light.

“You are all knees and elbows, so tall and thin.” Mikey noted about Jamie’s body. He was way too old, fat, and bald to flirt with girls her age, but part of his art as a tattoo artist was to make first time recipients less nervous.

“It may help if you shut your eyes.” He said, opening an igloo cooler he stashed his beer in, to get some ice cubes.

She did, but he caught her peaking. “Up, caught you peaking… Dad, okay to blindfold?” Mikey asked her father after he spotted her trying to see what was happening to her.

“Okay to handcuff if you need too, she agreed to it, I’ve paid for it, just get her done.” Bill smiled patiently, laying down 50 bucks on the table. The price Mikey was charging was a steal for the work he was doing.

“GIT-R-DUNN!” Mikey answered his affirmation in a fake thick country accent, reminiscent of Larry the Cable Guy. Chris was amused the most by this guy’s joke and asked his Dad if he could have an earring too.

“Yah, sure.” Mikey answered before Bill could respond. “On the house, bro.”

Chris reached his fist out to Mikey, and as Mikey returned it, Chris offered his signature “Bro’s before Ho’s” catch phrase.

Bill didn’t care if Chris got an earring or not, his “Dad DNA” was starting to kick in. Something primal that made him more uneasy with his daughter’s nudity aside from her cat collar bell, and heels. With Wendy, he hadn’t felt as protective. He was scanning behind him, surprised himself that the law hadn’t come. To ordinary passers-by, this probably seemed like an innocuous booth, and they would never guess there were two almost completely naked women inside it. What reason would anyone have to think there was? It would be like guessing you have gremlins living in your cupboard.

Mikey had tied an old piece of cloth around Jamie’s eyes, which made him feel less like a pervert as he used ice on her nipples to get them numb and hard. He was glad he wasn’t standing, because he was completely hard. He wasn’t usually turned on by the jobs he did, but this was not one of his usual jobs.

“I am going to do the first nipple, can you keep moving this piece of ice around the other, while I set it?”

“Yes Sir.”

“I did a nice Monroe piercing for a girl about your age, a few weeks ago” Mikey said while he fidgeted through a box looking for something to use to pierce her nipple. “You know what that is?”

“No sir, I don’t.” Jamie wasn’t lying at all.

“It’s a lip piercing placed off-center, above the upper lip on the left hand like Marilyn Monroe's beauty spot.” he told her finally fishing out what he was looking for “A 14 gauge barbell, perfect complement to nipples as pretty as yours.”

“Is it exactly like Mom’s?” she said reaching for the blindfold to check.

“Jamie Taylor, you stay right there, hands down at your side. In fact, spread your legs apart, so he can have better access when he does the clit piercing. Keep your hands busy, hold your ankles, as FAR out and away from your body as possible” Bill said seriously.

“Actually, I won’t be ready for that for a few minutes.” But Jamie had already pulled her very limbered legs wide apart. Her hands as far out to her sides as possible, holding her ankles, sitting like she was doing a split, except resting on her butt. A position Chris favored a lot.

“Hello!” Mikey said out loud in shock, as he turned back from Bill, and saw Jamie’s perfectly thin cunt lips parted, as she remained in that vulnerable position. “Okay, yeah that works too. Whatever is comfortable.” He rolled his eyes, wondering if anyone would believe this story. “You do gymnastics?”

“Cheerleading, Sir”

“Of course, cheerleading.” Mikey sighed, fishing around for white hoops similar to what he had noted when he had a brief glance directly at the mother’s clit protruding slightly between her cleanly shaven pussy lips.

“You want them set extra high or back towards the base?”

“How is it for my mother?” Jamie replied before her father could answer for her.

“I am honestly, not trying to sound like a pervert here.” Mikey swallowed, having gone from Gregarious to a man who was actually starting to get intimidated by the situation. “Even though I am a Pervert” He admitted with a sly smile. “But I didn’t actually get a look at the gauge of your Wife’s rings, does she have the exact same ones on her breasts?” he asked Bill while looking down at the woman on his floor.

“Show him please, Wendy?” Bill instructed.

“Happily, Sir.” Wendy got to her knees, and looking straight at her daughter with a look that screamed, “I tried to warn you not to do this.” She removed her shirt, and stood up cautiously looking over the counter.

“Bashful?” Chris asked of his mother who had moments before been parting her sticky ass cheeks.

“Not at all, Sir. I just didn’t want to offend anyone. Do you mind holding my shirt, Sir?” she offered Chris the shirt she had on.

By this time Mikey had moved beyond the good sense to tell her all she had to do was tell him what size she wore, or that she could put the shirt right back on. It was obvious she wanted to be naked too as far as he was concerned. She turned to face Mikey, with her hands resting on the small of her back, pushing her tits out.

“Ashton Kutcher is going to jump out of the bushes and tell me I am on punk’d, right?” Mikey said to ease the tension and awkwardness he was feeling than in any kind of serious question while taking in her tits. They were perfect specimens. The doctor who did the implants had got the symmetry and the hang right; natural enough not to seem fake, but too perfect and round not to seem natural.

“Yeah, this guy is Ashton Kunt-cher” Bill indicated with his thumb at the creepy stranger, having absolutely no regard for his feelings. He was starting to assume the man was mentally retarded, standing motionless watching the spectacle put on by Wendy and Jamie, like a devout Christian drawn to a living nativity scene on Christmas night, watching every detail in silent awe and wonder.

“Those Tits are spectacular, I can see why you aren‘t shy about showing them to strangers.” Mikey said, having no idea that Wendy wasn‘t an extrovert. “I’ve got a 14 gauge hoop, but it’s gold, will that do?” He asked Bill, once he’d drank in the sight of Wendy’s well hung rack. He filed a mental image away for later as masturbation material.

“Is it exactly the same as my Mom’s?” Jamie repeated her concern, answering for herself.

“In this light,” Mikey made a show of lifting Wendy’s nipple ring and observing it, “yes, it is.”

“Daddy, please.” Jamie pouted. Bill did not know why it was so important to her for it to be the same, he hadn’t been privy to the earlier conversations. As far as he was concerned, she was just stalling the inevitable.

“Don’t try to manipulate me, I’ve already paid the man, now sit just like that, be a big girl, and swallow your god-damned medicine.” Bill was gruff.

“You’ll have two nipple rings, a cunt ring, and a belly ring that is one MORE than Mom.” Chris offered trying to be helpful.

“I’m going to need you to flick them and keep using ice before I put the clamp down. To get them as high set as your mom’s rings, they have to be fully extended. It’ll be like you are permanently hard.” Mikey’s brow was dripping sweat, as he realized he too was sporting wood in his pants.

Jamie still blindfolded, holding her legs apart and out from her body by the ankles, could feel herself starting to cry, the guilt of being exposed this way, the idea of what she was doing, and on top of it, her desire to be treated the same as her mother not being respected. Her meek voice begged “Can we get the hoops later?”

“Oh sure, honey, any hot topic in the mall, has big, fat cheapo hoops like your Mom has in.” Mikey answered the question intended for Bill and Chris.

“These are not white gold, Sir?” Wendy distinctly heard the guy who did her boobs say white gold and she wanted to get confirmation they were not.

“That is what I’d call Puerto Rican gold by the look of it, probably turn green before too long. I wouldn’t suggest having them in very long.” The tattoo artist said dismissing it as of no consequence. Mikey knew quality stainless steel was the way to go, but his customers didn’t come to him for ‘quality’. As far as he was concerned, it was up to them if they wanted cheap stuff. “The customer is always right” he smiled.

Wendy was stunned that she had been lied too. “May I go back on the floor, Sir?” Wendy wanted to crawl into a deep dark hole and stay there, the lovey-dovey feelings of earlier having been washed away.

She was already getting back into position as Bill asked, “Why do you want to be on your knees on the floor?”

“I want you to be able to admire the tattoo you bought for me.” She didn’t look at her daughter, but she meant the next part for her, “And for your daughter.”

Her words sliced like a knife through Jamie, which at that exact moment, the first needled clamp sliced through her extra hard, ice-cold nipple, causing her to cry out like a stuck pig.

“Jamie, unless you want a big crowd around, I’d suggest you stifle yourself.”

“I am sorry, I couldn’t help it, Sir.” Jamie admitted, as Mikey moved to her left nipple to repeat the process.

“Mikey, I hate to ask you this, but do you have something back there, you could shove in her mouth to gag her with? As much fun as it is to stand here with Uncle Creepy.” Bill referred to the quiet stranger, “I’d rather not bring over all those kids getting off the rides, thinking there is a petting zoo of squealing piglets back there.”

“Are you guys like into BDSM?” Mikey finally asked, using “like” was something Jamie was forbidden to do, because she overused the idiom. Even hearing someone else say it, put her on edge that her nipples were about to be twisted while someone asks her “Is this like, you know, like, hurting, how do you like, like it?” mocking her bad habit.

“I guess so.” Bill knew the term, and had jerked off to a lot of the pornography in that category. The helpless women, the submission, it had turned him on, their powerlessness. He had not studied the philosophies of it, beyond what he had used to help him write his rules that he found on the internet.

“I KNEW it, with all the Sirs, and what not. My Aunt and Uncle back in Pittsburgh were into it. They used to get the newsletter and everything. I didn’t know entire families did it.”

“Your Aunt and Uncle were a family.” Chris played Devil’s advocate.

“Touché’, but their kids were grown. I guess it’s possible, all in the family, right?” Mikey laughed. “If you can slap one family member’s ass, why not all of them?” He tried not to think too hard about what he just said, holding up a red, rubber ball he dug out of a trash can. “I could wash this off, one of the carnies kept throwing it over here, and I kept whipping it back at him, until I got bored of it. It looks about mouth sized.”

Chris took the ball and sniffed it, “Sis open your mouth, it’s been washed off.” She dutifully opened her mouth wide, with the blindfold on she couldn’t tell what Chris was actually puttine in her mouth but she trusted him.

Chris threw the ball at his naked sister, hitting her in the chest, and it rolled off, while she flinched but held herself wide open at the ankles.

“Care to try again, three balls, and if you make one in, I’ll give you a razzle dazzle rag in a bag, which you can trade up for a slightly larger genuine razzle dazzle rag in a bag, what do you say there, everyone is a winner!!” Mikey put on his best imitation of a fast-talking carnie who just happened to talk like Edward G. Robinson while hawking his game.

The second time Chris pitched the rubber ball with all his might directly at his sisters very pink and exposed pussy, causing it to bounce off with a satisfying “pop” and ricochet around the gazebo. She did not have time to flinch until well after the impact.

“Chris, would you stop fucking around and let the man finish.” Bill announced. He was annoyed but also amused. His son secretly cracked him up at times. This was one of those times. “Wendy, get the ball and gag your daughter, then get back in position as quickly as possible.”

Without hesitation, Wendy sprang into action. “Yes Sir” as she located the rubber ball resting on the chalky cement floor, without even checking to see who was watching, rose up to counter level. Her hand forced her daughter’s mouth open slightly wedging the ball in between her perfect set of teeth. Then with a conservation of motion, Wendy was back into her position in the same spot on the floor, pulling her own ass cheeks apart even wider, if that was possible, than before, careful to mind the tip basket, that had been placed in jest.

“I was going to get a together shot of my tattoo work on them both for my book of work.” Mikey admitted savoring how Jamie looked, breathing in as if his other senses might take in the same perfection as his eyes. “As perfectly helpless as she looks, with the blindfold, and the rubber gag, would it be an imposition to take a few polaroids of this?”

“Help yourself!” Bill smiled, while Mikey began taking a few shots of his daughter. She was grunting under the gag, no doubt caused by very tiny bits of gravel from the floor mixed with her saliva.

Bill and Chris had taped Jamie many times, with the expectation they would bury the tapes. The reality was the past week had been guys (and some girls, Cathy Griffin most of all) had taken candid snaps on their cell phones at various points when she exposed herself. They were probably all over face book and different websites that featured those kinds of amateur flashing shots. The ones saving those photos to their computers and recirculating them never realizing or caring that behind her all-American wholesome girl smile, she wasn’t doing this just for attention.

“Hush, or you’ll take that ball with you for the rest of the fair.” Bill was not making an idle threat.

The second pinch to her titty wasn’t as bad as the first, and in fact happened much faster than the first.

Her belly button was over in a snap. She felt a hot sensation, and imagined the dangling tassel that was now a part of her body. She could see nothing, she wanted desperately to touch it. Instead, she forced herself to focus on keeping her legs wide apart, by the ankle.

The darkness of the blindfold was supposed to be for her benefit, make this easier to endure. All it managed to do was give her a vision of being surrounded by hundreds of fair goers, friends, classmates, relatives, and neighbors around the gazebo staring at her and laughing at her. She tried as she could to remove the image from her mind, but the more she tried the bigger the crowd got, the more hysterical their laughter.

While Jamie was day dreaming her nightmare scenario, unable to see or talk, no one else was feeling the same sense of urgency. There was a calm, collected vibe around the gazebo, although Jamie had gone some place mentally where her pulse was quickened, her heart was racing, and her humiliation was at its ultimate limit.

Back in the real world, Mikey calmly asked, “You say she is 18 correct?” to reassure himself, or perhaps even to stall a little, before moving to the clit ring.

“I do indeed.” Bill lied without hesitation. She was close enough as far as he was concerned.

“Even so, I feel a little uncomfortable. Her pussy is what I call an “innie”. I don’t want to reach in and pull it inside out and her hands are occupied.” Mikey explained his situation delicately, about to suggest her dad let the girl flick her clit so he could mount the hood ring a little higher.

“Wendy, get up off your lazy ass and hold your daughter’s clit so this man can drive a hoop through it.” Bill said in a dry deadpan way, as if he were asking her to take out the garbage or pick up his dry cleaning.

Wendy let out a laugh, which felt more like a dry heave. The complete absurdity of the situation, was bringing her back to how she felt when she was overtired at Rahjid’s motel and had spent the night as his prostitute. Something she had managed to block out and put behind her. Not entirely behind her, and it was coming back to the surface now.

She swallowed the bitter bile that rose up in her throat, and answered her husband. “Yes Sir” she got up not making the mistake of looking out at the fair. This way she wouldn’t have to realize that twenty feet away people were buying snow cones and corn on the cob if she simply didn‘t look. She presented herself to Mikey “What would you like me to do, Sir?”

“Well, fish her clit hood out.” Mikey adjusted his plan accordingly “Pinch it, flick it, rub ice on it, and get it extra hard. If I want to set her hoop like yours, she is going to go from an innie to an outie.

Wendy did as she was told, stimulating her daughter’s hood with her finger, massaging it and adjusting it until it was elongated and puffy. The effect caused one person to moan. It may have even been Uncle Creepy, who had been silent at this point, no one could be sure.

All eyes were on the Mother teasing, tapping, toying with her daughter’s helpless wide-open cunt, to get it hard.

“Is it hard enough, Sir?”

“It IS hard enough.” Mikey said as if his eyes had glazed over and he was in a trance, speaking about his own dick. Then he pretended to come out of hypnosis and give a critical look to Jamie’s pussy. He said with reluctance “If you want it like yours, you are going to have to not be as gentle. I’d do it for you, but I think that guy over there.” getting in on the joke, by referring to the quiet creepy man, “is Chris Hanson”.

“My daughter wants the hoop to ride as high as mine in her cunt, because she wants the same experience as me.” Wendy reiterated what had already been said, as she evaluated in her mind what that really means.

Jamie was actually shaking her head no back and forth, still tightly holding her ankles out from her body. She couldn’t allow herself to orgasm like this. This wasn’t how she masturbated, unusually stroking with one finger inwardly. Her clit being pulled out, was a bit like having your mouth held open and your tongued pulled out just past as far as you think you can extend it, pushed into some vanilla ice cream cake. It was an indescribable kind of tease, that also tormented.

“Would it help if I licked her clit, and used my spit, nibbled at it, to make it stand up, Sir?” Wendy was being as seductive as she knew how, and could feel a new sensation. The power of having every ounce of attention from all the men, clouded her thoughts on the matter of “wants the same experience as me,” as her answer right then was “give it to her!”

“It couldn’t hurt.” Mikey answered like a little boy who had just been offered pancakes with syrup for dinner.

Wendy, having never been asked to actually lick her daughter’s cunt, had her nose pushed up against it, had touched it, shaved it, pulled it apart, put lotion on it many times in the last week. She had NEVER gone down on her daughter yet. She had not even gone down on another woman except in college, and she preferred never to think about it. That was back in the 1980s when hairy beavers were the norm. The thought of wading through all that hair to get to a salty, pissy beaver sickened her. Why then was she considering going down on her daughter's peach like mound.

She told herself she offered because she wanted to impress Bill and Chris, but she was lying. She was sinking to her knees, to begin flicking her tongue on her daughter’s clit, because she was angry. She was angry with herself, for letting things get this far, and she was angry with herself for accidentally telling her daughter she fucked Steve.

She wondered, had she subconsciously wanted Jamie to know? Wanted her to know about the sacrifices she was making, giving up stars to stay neck and neck with her daughter’s progress so Bill would keep his deal of using Wendy for his sexual release, and not his daughter.

She was angry that Jamie was such a fool, that she would agree to be pierced at a county fair AND get a tattoo. She was angry she had agreed to her own tattoo and couldn’t take it back now, it felt like painful wet paint on her ass cheeks. She wasn’t angry with Bill and Chris, the way she looked at this, they were doing their part, the failures had been her own mostly.

While she mentally chastised herself, she opened her eyes. Her nose was resting slightly above her daughter’s clit, her tongue was thrusting and darting in a slow rounded circular motion along the ridges of the labia and inner walls of the pussy and back into the clit. Her hands had instinctively gone behind her back as she bent her knees and began playing with her own very wet pussy while she had been lost in her thoughts. Was she moaning? Or was Jamie?

She was starting to snap back to reality.

Chris was throwing popcorn at her ass. HE HAD TIME TO GET POPCORN AND A DRINK? She wondered in shock how long she had been eating pussy. Her DAUGHTER’S PUSSY? It was wet, her chin was wet and sticky.

“Mom, I think Jamie is ready. Stop playing with yourself, before we call Mrs. Waxerman!!” Chris was steadily firing popcorn at his mom’s ass while she swayed in front of the men.

“Sorry Sir, Sorry…Sorry.” She backed away, thankful that she’d been called off. She’d had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach when the reality of what she was doing hit her. She just wanted back on the floor.

“Stay here and hold it up and out!” Mikey, who wasn’t sure if this was the hardest fifty bucks he ever earned, or the best fifty bucks, wasn’t about to have let her get that hot and steamy and then let go. He insisted she stand, pinching her daughter’s now engorged clit hood as hard as she could, like a human clamp.

It was over in another few seconds, her daughter writhed in pain as the hoop was stuck through her clit, letting go of her ankles.

Mikey explained almost clinically, “From now on, you are probably going to be very sensitive there. Your clit was used to being on the inside of your body. Now it will be on the outside of your body. Fabrics, water from the shower are going to rub against it and you’ll probably be hypersensitive for at least a week” Mikey wasn’t sure if that was true. He had some women tell him they felt orgasms just from putting on corduroy shorts and how it chafed, and he had some say it hadn’t heightened anything.

Jamie‘s body was involuntarily undulating and spasming. She fell completely off the chair with a thud on to the cement, holding her clit, experiencing a prolonged sensation like nothing she‘d ever known.

If she had to describe it, it would be like when Chris had made her lay on her back and turn the bathtub water on directly over her pussy, mixed with the feeling of having her pussy pulled out an extra inch in an extended tease that gave her chills down her legs. Multiplied by ten, and then sprinkle strawberries on it.

She was spasming, her muscles all over her body, even her left toe curled up. The rubber ball had fallen out of her mouth, covered in spit rolling away from her, the blindfold still around her. She couldn’t help herself, her only thought was to ride out whatever was happening in the present moment.

Wendy for her part, was half standing, half crouching unsure what to do or say. If she had thought about it, she’d admit she was just a little bit jealous she hadn’t had the pleasure soaked permanent epiphany that her daughter seemed to be experiencing with her piercing.

Mikey looked at Bill, “Wow, I didn’t expect this.” looking at Chris and looking at Uncle Creepy, they all did double takes with each other before turning back to the girl who seemed to be locked in her own painful orgasmic trance.

“She probably has had enough, do you want to do the tattoo another day? I swear, I’ll come to YOUR house for it if you fucking want.” Mikey was proud of his work. He hadn’t ever made a woman cum like that when having sex, none of the men standing there had.

He could not tell if she was enjoying it or hurt by it, or possibly in epileptic shock, by the completely uninhibited way she shamelessly tossed on the floor without regard for the little pieces of dust and filth she was rolling around in.. This was no act on the electric chair, pretending to be shocked into orgasm. This was the mightiest 11.1 on the Richter scale full release Tsunami of orgasms of which other orgasms aspire to be.

“Yeah, Chris what do you say, Maybe we just go home, and come back tomorrow. I think they’ve had enough?” Bill had no idea what his daughter must be feeling, even if were absolute bliss and total ecstasy, he had taken pity on her, and felt that going further would be too much.

Wendy smiled, maybe after all this, she had prevented Jamie from making a huge mistake with the tattoo. The piercing’s could eventually come out. The tattoo was forever. Providence had smiled upon her, letting her feel less guilty about the smell and taste of her daughter’s pussy juice on her tersely pursed lips.

“Seconded, I am surprised no security guard has kicked us out.” Chris replied, mentally exhausted himself, tossing popcorn in his mouth and chugging his soda.

After everything, Uncle Creepy uttered his first response of the night. “I AM the security guard.”