The Family Feud III

Chapter Three
“Uncle Creepy”

STAR COUNT:
WENDY: 26
JAMIE: 24

Faces went ashen, jaws fell open, pins dropped and people heard them. That may be a slight exaggeration, but I am telling you, Uncle Creepy's words stopped everyone in their tracks dead.

It was quiet for a long time.

It was obvious now that they looked at him. He didn’t have on a uniform like one might expect of a security guard. No badge, No policeman’s cap, No patch that says “Security,” No leather belt with nightstick trundle or walkie-talkie.

Just simple, unassuming, navy blue polyester workman pants, hiked up about three inches higher than they ought to be, with his white button down shirt tucked in. He was so unimposing, and awkward that it had been natural to just assume he dressed this way by choice and not because of his vocation. He did not exude any sort of personal confidence, charisma, or authority.

Mikey was the first one to start the wave of laughter, it was at first just a simple giggle. Then Chris joined in, cascading on to the others into a full on chuckle.

“Barney, how is Andy and Aunt Bee?” Mikey had a natural dislike for authority, but this unassuming man, seemed so innocuous that he made mockery of the concept of authority. His jab was not intended to be an insult as much as was to release some tension about the bombshell Creepy had dropped on them.

They’d been wondering if security would come around and hassle them, nervously looking over their shoulders this whole time, all for very different reasons. Mikey was worried about his business and livelihood, Wendy did not want a crowd to see her being humiliated, Bill had been having misgivings about Jamie doing this.

Creepy the guard remained unmoved by the tittering laughter at his expense. He sometimes chewed his upper lip, letting his lower lip disappear under his mustache, but that would be about the only expression other than ‘flat’ you could use to describe him.

“We’ve been wondering if security would come and chase us all out, lock us up, and here security has been all along.” Bill noted rhetorically with a grin.

Wendy put her wrists together, laughing breathlessly and held them out. “Oh Officer, would you like to lock me up.” putting her finger to her mouth “I’ve been a bad girl!” slapping her butt.

Some nickelodeon music, the kind they play for ice cream trucks that no one noticed until it stopped signaled an end to the rowdy laughter. The tune was, “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.” the kind of song that gets stuck in your head. The music fading, acting as a natural suggestion for everyone to quiet down.

“As soon as your Sister composes herself,” Bill cleared his throat to try to get Jamie’s attention, “we can go home.” Looking down at the bottom of the gazebo, at his daughter sprawled on the disgusting floor of the gazebo.

“I think she is sucking her thumb.” Chris noted, watching his sister who was still waiting for the train containing all that ecstasy being released inside of her to come to a complete halt before stopping.

Wendy was ready to leave, Bill was ready to leave, and Chris was ready to leave.

Jamie moaned “Noooooooooo” so soft, and meek, that at first it just sounded like another ripple of the pleasure endorphins that must have triggered in her brain. She was mewling and whimpering, something that sounded like a cross between a kitty's meow, and the 'goo-gaa-gaa' language of babies.

“Get up and get dressed right now, or I’ll walk you out of here naked, Jamie Taylor!” Bill’s threat fell on deaf ears.

“Noooooooo” came her reply, like a whispering velvet, but firmer this time.

Wendy for her part, stayed where she was, crouching slightly so that her ample jugs didn’t ensnare another stranger to their gazebo. She would dress when Jamie dressed; she knew it was pointless to ask permission.

“Jamie started to sit up, by raising herself on her elbows, lying in a reclining position on her butt. Her bright blue eyes caught her daddy the way that puppy does when you see them at the rescue shelter and you just know you are going home with them.

The way she had when she was a little girl, waiting for Santa Claus, asking if she could open just one present before he comes in the morning and Bill had to let her.

“I am not going home, without the tattoo!” Jamie regained her composure. She looked down at her chest, assessing how the nipple rings and belly ring looked. Jamie's face silently saying “That isn’t so bad.”

“You’ll go home with whatever I tell you too, even if that is my foot up your ass.” Bill was not going to back down.

Mikey didn’t want to get involved because the levity from moments before had faded. “Listen to me, you just went through some kind of shit storm of an orgasm or something on my floor, you may have even squirted.” He squinted in the darkness to see if there was something wet on his cement. “Your body couldn’t handle a tattoo.”

Jamie started to stand up, and then when she got to the counter top and noted the glare from the fair lights had somehow gotten brighter as if her sensitivity to light had increased. The fair was getting louder, more people were arriving, more activity. She ducked back under the counter with her mom to avoid being seen by strangers.

“I’ve done my part of the devil’s bargain. You told me earlier, that I better abso-fucking-poso-tutely be sure I was going to go through with the tattoo and you made me promise that I was. Now you aren’t?” Jamie didn’t cuss that often. When her Dad or her brother made her say Cunt or Asshole in reference to her body, or ask permission to shit or piss, it embarrassed her, but it also sounded so wrong coming out of such an innocent and wholesome looking face. When her father had used “abso-fucking-poso-tutely”, coming from him it fit his nature and emphasized he wanted her to be sure. When she used the word, it just sounded like a good girl playing a bad girl being naughty and didn‘t have the same effect.

Chris came to his Sister’s defense… a move that surprised everyone.

“Look at me, Mom and Dad.” once he had their attention, he addressed them both.

“I am holding a 44 ounce Commemorative Collector’s Star Trek Lt. Cdr. Scott aluminum Mug full of frosty Root Beer, and in the other hand a giant bag of hot buttered popcorn.”

Bill was not sure where he was going with this, no one was. However, they let him finish, in the hopes he was going somewhere with what he was saying.

“I know the sugar is bad for me, the caffeine is bad for me, and the hot butter flavored oil is bad for me. This shit will kill ya.” he took a sip from his mug, and downed a handful of popcorn.

Mikey started to grin. He liked this kid. He too wasn’t sure what he was talking about, but he already liked it.

“You know who paid for this shit? My sister’s sweet little ass. Every night, I’ve pimped her out to one of my nerdy friends, and every night she’s gone through every hassle, every hoop I’ve put in front of her she’s jumped through it with far fewer complaints than I would have.”

Jamie raised an eyebrow quizzically at her brother. She was still seated on the ground in a reclining position, resting on her elbows, but she leaned forward to listen to him intently. They all did.

“You let me do what I want with the money I made. You didn’t just inform me it would kill me, and stop me.”

“Sir, I’ve tried to warn you about that stuff for years.” Wendy did not want to overstep her bounds, but she felt she had to point that out.

“Let me finish, whore.” Chris’s calling his mother a whore, could have almost been called a term of endearment in the context he used it just then. He was not being mean when he shut her up.

“Yes, you’ve tried to warn me, teach me to make decisions, get me to make the right choices, and I appreciate that. Even though I haven’t always made the right choices, the choices you‘d make. That is all you can do. Set a good example, put the information out there, but you can‘t decide for me.”

“True power is delegation of decisions to others, being confident enough to trust them to make the right decisions, and to stand behind them when they fail.” Chris said surprising everyone, with a side of him they hadn’t seen.

“You promised Jamie the tattoo. Just look at you two!” He indicated his parents. “Just from your body language alone, I can tell neither of you wanted Jamie to choose the tattoo.” They knew he was right, they may have come at it from separate angles, but they both wanted to keep her from making the choice she had been offered.

Jamie had begun to come out of her hazy, orgasmic experience. No one was watching her, all eyes were on Chris. She sat up on her butt, but inclined her back against the Gazebo counter wall to rest. The experience she had just undergone had taken so much out of her, her breath was so rapid. She couldn’t quite make sense of what happened or what she was feeling right now. Her nipples and pussy still felt numb, but at the exact same time throbbed with a kind of pain that she could not put into words. She wanted to say a “Good pain” but that didn't make sense to her. She had no frame of reference for it.

She wanted to play with herself.

She let that thought sink back under the surface, where she buried these thoughts. No one would have minded if she had, they had all seen her just now at her absolute most embarrassing point in her life. The question in her mind was why was she even debating playing with herself?

She wanted to adjust herself, possibly push her clit back into its position and take off their piercings. Her eyes felt sharper for some reason, all her senses, felt 'heightened'. There was an adrenalin rush coursing through her veins. She knew enough about endorphins from running track and being in sports. This was her body’s way of coping with pain; she would have to ride it out.

There was however, a small bottle of aspirins on the floor. Jamie was still talking on her behalf; she did not want to interrupt anyone to ask. It felt strange not to ask permission for anything, in the past week they had been made to ask permission so often it was becoming second nature. It was just aspirin, no one would begrudge her that, she thought to herself reaching for the bottle slyly (just in case they would).

She'd unscrew it, pop the aspirin in her mouth and let it dissolve until she could swallow it. She was used to making do with less to drink, outside of the two days Chris made her drink only from the toilet. Then he HAD made sure she had plenty to drink.

It was, she admitted to herself, an unexpected benefit of the training, that she could make do without water to swallow. A week ago, she would have choked trying to get the chalky pill down with only her own saliva to wash it down. Chris and Bill had not been particularly generous when it came to permitting them food and drink. She kept her mouth shut, resting her hands on her knees, listening to the discussion continue.

“You did the same to her as you did to me. You taught her right from wrong. You educated her on choices. You set the best examples you could, and then she made mostly good choices. Different choices than I would make. Like “Trying hard” and “Studying” he smiled as Chris gave examples of things, he had not applied himself to.

“She also made mistakes. She helped you tie my cock to my dad’s and march us around the house for a week or two.”

“Whoa!” Mikey eyes went wide. He did not see that one coming.

“That was a big mistake. She wrecked your car, and got talked into walking away from responsibility, and let some guy pretend it was stolen so she wouldn’t be blamed for it.”

“I actually know a guy who will do that for you.” Mikey smirked

“Yah, Griffin Brothers, right?” Chris asked him nodding.

Mikey’s eyes got wider in recognition, “I can neither confirm, nor deny.” folding his arms with a grin.

“I could go over all her mistakes; it’d take a lot less time than it would to detail my shortcomings.” Chris continued, “But the mistake she did not make, was agreeing to serve and humble herself, through thick, through thin, to do everything she agreed.”

Bill was interested, but he still didn’t see Chris’s point. His pragmatic mind had simply added up his logic;

‘I want to go + Mikey says he will do the tattoo another day = Let’s go and do the tattoo some other time.’

Chris concluded by saying, “Can’t you see it isn’t about who agreed to do what? Not really? It is important that she agreed to something, you agreed to it, that you do it. What I am talking about is why did she agree to it?” Chris asked rhetorically but seemed to be waiting for answer.

Even Jamie wondered why she had agreed to such a heinous tattoo now that she thought about it. She knew in her mind she was no quitter and she agreed to this. All the other reasons having to do with her mom having done it and she hadn’t been expected to. She was curious what Chris’s take on it was, hoping it was as profound as he had been the last few minutes.

“It’s because this is a rite of passage for her. It is how she proves she is not a little girl anymore, who needs you to baby her. She made her bed, she is willing to lie in it, and you are saying, ‘Not our baby girl, let me make the bed up for her and poof the pillows and change the sheets, and then maybe tomorrow she can lie in the bed the way she made it.”

The answer shocked all of the Taylors.

“In Jewish communities, a boy becomes a man at thirteen. He gets a party, goes through preparations and he is recognized as becoming an adult in his community. The symbolism of their ritual is like what we are doing, just in our own twisted Taylor style.”

CLAP….CLAP……CLAP…… Mikey put his hands together slowly applauding Chris and when no one else joined in he said “What, I can’t start the slow clap, that ends in the standing ovation, the boy was good!” the levity coupled with the fact that there had been a slow clap earlier at their SpongeBob photo-shoot battle put grins on their faces.

Jamie stood up, and clapped for her brother, the kind of clap, cheerleaders do when they are behind their athletes. All anyone could register was her tits now reflecting in the dim light, the two shiny hoops, making her nipples appear fat and swollen.

Bill held up his hand to pause her, “So you are saying that I have to let Jamie decide anything she wants, or else I am not being a good Dad?” Bill directed the question to his son.

“Hell no, she is OUR bitch. She does what WE tell her, watch this. Jamie, stick your thumb up your ass.”

Jamie stopped clapping, her face still positive but more reluctant (coincidentally, this is Chris’s favorite expression she makes). “Yes Sir” she said submissively and put her right hand behind her back just below her butt cheek.

“You expect me to trust that you did what I told you?” Chris asked his sister.

“No sir, I am a female, we wear push-up bras to make our tits look bigger, we wear make-up so our features are smoother and our blemishes aren’t visible. We by nature lie and deceive. I understand you have an obligation to supervise me and keep me honest.” Jamie answered with a practiced reply from one of her many affirmation sessions.

“Then get in Inspection position Two, so Dad and I can see that you have done what you were told.”

She did as she was told without complaint, bending at the waist, holding one cheek apart, with her thumb in her ass cheek. It was clear it had been there all along.

“Thank you Sir, the only way I am inclined to be honest, is by the knowledge of your constant surveillance and that there are consequences for my shortcomings.” again coming from a morning affirmation Chris had given her.

Chris could tell his Dad still wasn’t quite on point with what he was showing him. He made his points like he was writing on an imaginary chalk board.

1. She has guidance and boundaries, along with the reasons. A 12 year old will have a different set of guidance and boundaries suited to their level, than a 15 year old, than I would, or a slut like Jamie does.

2. In this case, if I tell her to stick her thumb up her butt, she has a choice. Her choice is to do it, or not. If she does not, she faces the consequences.

Not all consequences are bad. The consequence to a good decision or at least a better decision is you may get a treat you did not think you would.

3. If I do not supervise her, she never faces the consequences of her actions. So she understand and accepts I‘ve got to supervise her.

4. My contract with her is that in exchange for this supervision, guidance and boundaries, she will do her best to keep her responsibilities and if she can’t, she’ll face the consequences. That is why it is important that when I say there will be a consequence, there will be. If I say twenty-strokes with a lash, it is not 19, it’s not 21.

Chris displaying rare talent at communicating had laid it all out, so that everyone understood the point. No rambling, No cryptic references to video games or cartoons. Wendy wanted to cheer for her son, too. She had never heard him explain anything clearly before now.

“So that is why, if you told her that she has to make a choice, that is her responsibility. She made the choice. Now you are telling her that is irrelevant. So she feels like a baby, who is being coddled.” Chris summarized his points.

“Chris, Sir!” Jamie beamed from behind the counter, her eyes reflecting the Ferris wheel lights with admiration. “If we were ever in one of those situations like when people are flying and they crash in the mountains and have to eat each other.”

“Yeah Sis?”

“I’d eat you last!”

“Well, I’d eat you first!” He grinned.

“Oh promises, promises.” She flirted back, her hand on her hips in a ‘hubba hubba’ motion like Mae West. Chris had never licked her pussy or had sex with her, and she frankly didn’t want too, but she didn’t mind the flirtation they were having.

“Wendy, what do you say?” Bill asked, having a lot to think about.

“I am surprised you asked me my opinion, Sir.”

“It’s a family meeting, I think.” Bill answered, giving her permission to be more informal and talk about issues.

Mikey wanted to interrupt, to remind them that the girls were still naked, and he was losing profit while he kept the shop light off. It was dark enough now, that without the neon lights, someone would have to literally bump into the gazebo to find them without his neon signage.

“If that’s the case, then I owe you a big apology Jamie. I love you, you know that. You know that I would never do anything to harm you or hinder you in life intentionally. I am realizing tonight, after Chris made his brilliant point, that I’ve got a lot to learn from you both.” She added trying not to get emotional. “If you are sure you want this tattoo, and your father approves, then do it with my blessing and we’ll both be whore butts together.” She was close enough she could hug her daughter.

Wendy curled up a fist to do a fist bump with her daughter. The moment their knuckles touched, they said in unison, “Ho’s after bros!” They had practiced the cute little reversal of Bill and Chris’s catch phrase.

“Fuck man; let me get my god-damned inks. I swear to you, no one is going to fucking believe this shit.”

Wendy asked her daughter, “Chris’s point though was to arm you with the tools to make the decision when you are ready. Look at this tattoo, for one full minute.” she said without deferring to the men for permission first. Something that felt a little weird to her, even though until last week she had always acted without deferring to the men of the house.

Wendy wasted no time in getting back down on all fours, facing her ass towards her daughter, and putting her forehead to the ground much the way she had been during her daughter’s piercings.

“Sir, will you shine some of that light directly over my ass, so my daughter can look at my tattoo” were words she never thought she would ever say in a million years, but she was asking Mikey to pull his hanging overhead lamp down for that very reason.

Jamie’s eyes followed every flourish and shaded line, along each letter. The W, H, O, R, E was at least 8 inches high and covered her mom’s entire ass, using the asshOle as the position for the tattoo of the letter “O” suggesting Wendy’s anal ring was part of the letter. It was beyond lewd.

“Are you sure you want THIS?” Wendy asked holding her hands at the back of her cheeks, so that her daughter could see the entirety of the tattoo without her fingers in the way, but still pulling slightly apart so that the O was clearly visible. This was her final chance to decide, but Wendy felt strongly that Chris had made a good case. She was going to show her what she was about to get, and let her make up her own mind.

Jamie touched her mom’s ass; it was still sticky from the ointment, although it had bits of dirt and gravel in it now, from where she would be rolling around on the ground. She pulled her Mom’s ass cheeks apart further herself, something she had done several times to shave her, and lotion her up in the past week.

Then she did something she had never done. She spit on her mom’s asshole. Wendy was shocked. What did that mean?

Jamie bent forward, and flicked out her tongue to lick all around the tender anal ring, causing Wendy to spasm at first, but she soon held herself in position while her daughter kissed her ass at first gently, and then pushed the tip of her tongue slightly in.

“And Chris, Sir?” She said to her brother who like Bill was watching from above with rapt attention. “If its moter boating to roll your face in titties,” She referenced something he’d said earlier tonight and then rolled her face in her mom‘s ass cheeks, letting the cheeks wiggle on her face and in between her nose, making a “Grrbbbbblll“ sound playfully.. “It’s called muddin, when you roll your face in ass cheeks.” she smiled sweetly with a hint of insatiability like the good girl gone bad in all the pornos that have EVER been made about good girls going bad.

Why had she just done that?

Jamie had just licked someone's ass for the first time in her life. Not just any ass, but the sweaty, dusty, sticky ass of her mother shortly after the word “WHORE” had been tattooed on it.

She really could not explain why she had this sudden urge to be naughty. It could be said that where most people had the angel on their shoulder telling them to be virtuous, and a devil on another. Jamie had two angels. She was seldom mean on purpose, and although she had been coming to understand her shortcomings, she had never felt like kissing an ass.

She knew why she had told the dirty joke, about 'mudding' and 'motorboating'. She had heard the same joke Chris told earlier at school, except with the punch line she used. There were bi-sexuals, and gays at her school, everyone that went there watched Glee. The concept of girl on girl sex had never appealed to Jamie, much less licking anyone's ass. The fact it was her mother’s ass only making it seem even more heinous. Jamie was not sure if she had been caught up in the moment, or sexually stimulated so much she was not thinking clearly. She was conflicted with guilt and a desire to be naughty. New feelings that were hard for her to process right now.

Why had she done all this? Why had she written a check with her mouth that she would literally have to cash with her ass, by being this forward and provocative? What were these feelings pressuring her?

It may be suppressed teenage hormones. She had grown up hearing that good girls wait. They hold out, they don't do naughty, dirty things. Was Chris's speech that despite what she was told, she had to make decisions and face those consequences finally letting those hormones come to the surface?

Was it endorphins kicking in, the same chemicals in opium, being released into her brain, her body’s reaction to the shock of intense pain and stimulation? Adrenalin was being produced, causing her blood to pulse, her desire to touch and be touched.

It may be that her nipples were both freshly pierced with hoops in such a way that the nerve endings were permanently stimulated, made fatter and pulled out so they stuck out by what felt like an extra half inch to her.

It could be that her clit, which had always been hiding inside her labia, hidden away, revealing only a slender pink crease to anyone who saw her hairless pussy was now also permanently pulled out, by what felt like TWO inches, with a hoop going through it. She could swear every nerve ending in her body, must first connect to the piercing and then on to her brain. If she wriggled her toes, it tickled her little cookie, if she touched her boobs, it registered there too.

She smiled, remembering her name for a pussy had been “Cookie” since she was a little girl. She had no idea at the time, how appropriate it would be to eat a cookie.

She was suddenly having such wicked thoughts and images flow through her mind. That is when reality hit her, she was not sure how long she'd been making out with her Mom's ass, but no one seemed to be complaining. She puckered up and gave it one more big, affectionate kiss right on the sphincter as an ending note.

“The tattoo looks good to me.” She smiled sexy. “I want one, may I have one just like Mom's?” She looked up pouting at her Dad and brother, lustily. “Please Sirs? I'll beg!” She stood up on her knees, put her hands in front of her like Rosco begging for scraps, stuck out her tongue and panted.

The internal filters that everyone has that provide inhibitions didn't seem to be working quite right for Jamie at present. She was experiencing, for the first time in her life, the 'bad girl' that had been suppressed deep down inside and locked away.

She was secretly enjoying the control she had on the men. All attention was now on her, and they seemed to be stunned by every move she made, every word she spoke.

“Why do you want a tattoo of whore on your ass?” Bill asked his daughter, in the manner of his affirmations.

“Because, I am the whorish daughter, of a whore for a mom.” Jamie answered. “Shall I get into affirmation position, Sir?”

Wendy felt a sudden twinge, her butthole had just puckered. This whole experience was so heavy for her. She had expected earning the ten stars at the fair was going to get intense. The electric chair at the arcade, the game with the pictures, none of this came close to what was happening right now. She wanted to say something, to call out, “Hey everybody, let's take a time out!” She remained frozen, hurt by the truth of her daughter's most recent short answer.

Bill didn't like the new Jamie. So confident, and aggressive, she seemed comfortable with her body in a way she had not been. She had offered to do things proactively before, take positions she knew she'd be in, but there was a tone to his daughter's voice that seemed to imply she wanted to be in an affirmation position.

“Do you want to be in an affirmation position?” He asked.

“Yes Sir, the affirmations help put things in perspective for me, and make me think. They reinforce for me the path I am on. I appreciate you taking the time to give me the attention you do, and challenge me to think about this decision. When I am in a vulnerable position during the affirmation, I am unable to hide my true feelings, you can see right through me.” she answered. This was a safe answer, similar to one she had given him a few days ago.

“Any other reasons?”

“Yes Sir, that you have a better view of my cunt, and tits, now that they are extended and ringed. So you can admire the hoops you paid for.”

“You earned the money we are using; don't you mean you paid for?” Bill asked her.

“As long as I have an outstanding debt of gold stars to you, I am your pet, your personal property, to use to make up for my careless and thoughtless actions.” This was not unlike some of Jamie's answer in the past but she added, digging deeper and more retrospectively, “My brother is my pimp, I am his whore. He picks who should date me, and how I should behave. The whore doesn't manage the money, the pimp does. If he wants to spend it on me, it is up to me to be thankful and show my appreciation for his generosity.” Inside she felt so dirty saying these things. Pimps and whores was such an alien concept to such a white-bread girl, but she also felt they were the right words to use, all things considered.

Mikey couldn't believe what he was hearing, but he sat quietly, hand on his lap fighting the boner that was struggling to free itself of his pants, while he listened to this young girl talk.

Chris tagged into the conversation, instructing his sister to squat, spread her knees apart, cup her tits with her hands, and look straight ahead. She complied right away.

“Sis, do you like being my whore?”

“Yes and no sir. You make me date boys like Gerald who until recently, I would have smiled patronizing them, and said “Oh you are so sweet, I really like having you as a friend” knowing full well, I was probably crushing his dream, failing to return his affections, making him feel inadequate, and not really caring.”

“Yeah, I can see why you don't like that.”

“That is the part I DO like, Sir.” Jamie admitted, rubbing the curve of her thumb and index finger in semi-circles around her tits, as if massaging them. “If I hadn't had to do any of this, I would never have realized how big of a bitch I am to put myself on a pedestal that somehow my time was too valuable to share with someone like him, because he didn't seem like what I've been taught popular kids are.”

What don't you like about being my whore?” Chris nodded his head, filing away a mental note on that answer about how good it was.

”I don't like to have to behave, Sir. I feel like I have on an imaginary chastity belt, and I am just there to be eye candy. I have to be polite; I have to be nice, no matter what they say or how awkward it is.”

“You are always nice, Jamie. I've never seen you be rude.”

“That is because Sir, I avoided you in high school, and anyone like you. I hung out with popular kids. I made myself busy through school activities, so that I didn't have to date. It is comfortable in my rut, in my self-importance, in my own priorities list that don’t include what I don’t want to deal with. I don’t like being made to face those things, but I appreciate having to do it, Sir. Thank you for making me have to be a better bitch... My rudeness, is my stinginess with my time, my affection, my love. I haven't shared it enough with you, my family.”

Things being as freaky as they were, Mikey assumed ‘love’ must mean ‘sex’. Jamie didn't mean that. She meant nights like this very night. Jamie’s affirmations had never quite been as deep as the ones Wendy did. She was getting straight too her point, and not needing to be prodded to elaborate at all as if she had been in the past.

“You’ve brought me, and my mother to the county fair, to make us both entertain you. We haven’t done a very good job so far. We faked our electrocutions on the chair at the arcade, and our performance on stage in our cat fight, wasn’t very believable, Sir.”

Bill THOUGHT they had been faking. He wanted to jump in and demand punishment of the two deceitful wenches, but Jamie had more to say.

“You could be home doing what you had preferred to do for years. Look at porn, play video games. You are here tonight because you love us both. Why else take the time to bring us down here, and risk getting caught with us in this gazebo.” She looked around the darkened little shed, to emphasize her location. “You are so concerned for me, that you want me to make a good choice tonight. You are willing to spend time you could be amused watching your dumb whores antics, that you are here making me think. Thank you for that, Sir.”

“You WANT to stay after you get the tattoo?” Bill asked. The guys frequently switched off who led the affirmations.

“Yes Sir of course. You drove all this way, to give us the opportunity to earn ten stars. We have a late start, but if we kick it up a notch, then we may actually amuse you enough to earn them.”

“You may change your mind, after you get that tattoo, about sticking around here, Jamie?” Bill’s statement was more his opinion than a question of sorts.

“Then you would have to administer a correction to me, Sir.” She paused, noticing they hadn’t remembered. “Earlier tonight, I swore that any challenge we take at the Fair, I would do, or you could administer a correction right out in the open of the midway. So if I chicken shit out on a promise, I wrote with my mouth, that my ass cannot cash, then you have to administer a correction, and make me keep my word, Sir.”

“I don’t HAVE to do anything.”

“That is true, Sir and neither do I. The consequences for me not keeping my end of the bargain are that you will give me a public correction. The consequences for you not living up to your end of the bargain we made, are what Sir?”

Jamie had just flipped things on her dad, by making HIM think. “Okay, pip squirt, no matter WHAT happens, you are staying til closing time, and being our little plaything?”

“If my Mom is your plaything tonight, Sir then I is your plaything. We agreed to do this together.”

“Wendy, are you my plaything tonight?” Bill asked his wife, who had been content to keep her forehead pressed to the ground, ass facing her daughter.

“Yes Sir, as I will be every night, until I earn my dignity back. I‘ve got a lot of stars to earn.” Wendy got next to her daughter, without being told, taking the exact same position.

Mikey wondered if these stars were laced with crystal meth or LSD or something. He did not know what they were, or why the women wanted them. His experience with women was they wanted ‘something’ from him, Drugs, a place to live, money.

“How can you get your dignity back with WHORE in big letters on your ass?” Bill folded his arms across his chest.

“It may not be easy sir; I may never live it down. Whenever you fuck me in the ass, you will see it like a big reminder. It will take a long time to build up respect for myself, before I can have it from others. I will have to start from scratch. I am hoping maybe we can move after this is all over.”

“So you aren’t going to get it removed as soon as you can?”

“I will remove it as soon as my daughter does, SIR.” Wendy’s affirmation answers were usually very calm and submissive in tone. That last word didn’t fit. It sounded the way she talked before she had to be submissive. There was an aura of certainty about it.

Jamie smiled, “Thank you Mom, I’ll remove mine when you do.”

“Who said you could speak?” Bill corrected his daughter. “For that matter, who said you could have the tattoo?”

“YOU told me I could have the tattoo, Sir and to make up my mind abso-fucking-pos-devoutly and not keeping coming back and forth on the issue. I made the choice; there is no going back now. As for my outburst, I am sorry sir for being so undisciplined. Please punish me, so that I won’t forget to wait until I am spoken too during affirmations?” she asked her father without a trace of that tone that implied “I am saying this, because it is what you want to hear” that so often had made Jamie’s affirmations hollow and unsatisfying.

“You are right I did! Get in that chair, and let’s not take up Mikey’s time. We’ve got so much to get done tonight… That your punishment for talking out of turn will have to wait!!”

Jamie wanted to hug her dad. She hadn’t ever wanted a tattoo in her life, never even thought about it. Now she felt like she just won a full college scholarship for scholastic achievement as she sprung into the foam chair above her head.

“And I will tell you this, if you don’t remind me to punish you later. It’ll be twice as much when I DO remember, little girl.”

“Yes Daddy, Sir” Bill normally didn’t like when she included Dad in her titles for him, but he understood this was a big deal to his daughter. He just hoped she didn’t regret it.

“If you bitch or complain about having to swim, or go to the big game tomorrow with that tattoo, I’ll whip the tattoo right off your ass! So you better start thinking of what you’ll say when people ask you about it!!”

She swallowed hard. It JUST dawned on her as she pressed her chest into the foam chair straddling it, her bare ass awaiting the same tattoo her Mom just received. How would she handle wearing a bathing suit? Or Tomorrow night's Football Game without her spanks?