The Family Feud III

Chapter Five
“Shirts or Skins?”

STAR COUNT:
WENDY: 26
JAMIE: 29

Mikey waited a few more seconds to let the Taylor family express their concerns to each other. What were they going to do? Creepy had their clothes. The exit is well guarded and lit. Sneaking two naked women out with “WHORE” inked on their ass was not an option. When he was ready, inserting his fingers into his mouth, he whistled for attention. The Taylor's stopped talking abruptly.

“Chillax, you take everything so seriously. Everything is life or death with you. As if a tattoo is the end of life as you know it. I've got this. Come with me!” His voice reassuring as if this sort of thing happened all the time.

Mikey pocketed the sixty dollars he had been given and walked out of the gazebo.

“Aren't you going to lock it up?” Chris asked.

“It is a GAZEBO.” Putting his hand through the large opening that went all the way around it about waist high and wiggling it around. “What good would locking the gated door, do?”

Chris nodded that he understood, asking, “This maybe another stupid question, then. You want the girls to come too?”

“Yes, just stay low, and behind the trucks and campers.” Mikey needed to get back to work, but he felt bad for them. If Creepy walked away with their clothes, he was probably jerking off into them right now.

Bill and Chris, feeling no real need to sneak, walked behind the tattoo artist. He led them behind the rides and concession stands, in the places the customers were not supposed to see, trailers and storage trucks. Stepping over large electric cables and water pumps connected to fire hoses that were drawing water from the city hydrants. They were right behind him.

Following a slightly further distance away were Wendy and Jamie, totally nude except for heels and collar.

“Why do we always end up completely naked?” Wendy smiled at her daughter, trying to make the best of this. It would not help complaining. She thought to herself, staying strong for her daughter, but feeling a slight urge to scream out of raw desperation.

“Yeah, funny that.” Jamie replied returning her mother’s positivity.

Wendy realized that without Jamie, she would have probably broke down and cried at least twenty times in the past week. The two of them facing this together had made it easier, and at the same time, she wondered what her daughter would carry away from this experience. Would it be positive or negative? Would she remember this as a strangely exciting time, or a twisted dark period in her life?

More importantly, Wendy asked herself a question she didn’t want to think about too hard. Would Jamie insist on being included in the more sexual aspects of the training that she had gone to such lengths to try to keep her from. She could not keep her from everything, just being inspected after every pee break had felt a sexual energy to it. She was not sucking dicks, or fucking at least. Wendy preferred to assume that was the case with her daughter’s “dates” arranged by her brother, anyway.

The two of them were moving as if they were commandos, rolling, belly crawling, looking around corners. It took them much longer to travel a short distance than the guys. “Wait up, sirs.” they whisper-shouted. (If you have ever heard someone try to project their voice loudly, but do it in a whispered tone).

“Why are you whisper shouting?” Bill called back, standing up as if he owned the place.

“Probably because we are nekked, Sir.” Wendy whisper-shouted back, with a grin that read, “My husband is such a smart-ass sometimes.”

While the men waited for the girls to catch up, right next to one of the paths along the fair's midway they discussed their options.

“Okay, I have a friend who air brushes t-shirts, you can buy some in there.” Mikey pointed to a white trailer with airbrushing all over it.

“Me or my dad, could have just bought t-shirts and brought them back to the girls.” It was Chris's turn to point out Mikey's dumb logic.

“Yeah, but then you couldn't watch your sister somersault around like she is Catherine Zeta-Jones on a mission, could you?” looking over the shoulder at the girls agonizing about every 3-4 foot open space they had to run past to catch up to the guys.

“Bro's before ho's!” Chris offered Mikey the fist-bump mantra he shared with his dad, which he gladly accepted.

“You know it!” Mikey smiled, “Glad to be of service, I don't know exactly what game you guys are playing, but I've enjoyed it, thoroughly.”

“Tonight, it's really about humiliating them. Maybe we should say we don't have any more money, and keep them naked all night, running behind sheds and trailers.” Bill laughed.

Unsure if he was serious, Mikey tells him, “Nah, you'd get caught eventually and sent to “Fair Jail” or wherever they send naughty people. You could probably get away with airbrushing clothes on them.” Pleased to tell them a story about a time he worked one Mardi gras just airbrushing clothes on women. “It's hard to tell until someone gets close up. Most of the women wore tape over their nipples and a thong, but not all, my friend. Not all!”

The men had a minute to themselves while the girls slowly crossed the distance to them. The girls were keeping their heads down, trying to avoid the gaze of people at the fair who would be very surprised if they discovered only a few feet away, two women, belly crawling naked past sewer lines and cords. Sometimes they had to get down flat on the ground touching titty to the flat clay, to travel as stealthily as they could.

"No shit, here we were..." Chris starts his own story, with the same intensity and humor that Mikey had in the dozen or so anecdotes and stories he had shared with the Taylor Family. He describes how he goes to get milk and donuts for about a full minute. When the girls get right up to where he is, he stops his story abruptly.

"So what happened next?" Mikey prompts him, with curiosity.

"What do you mean? I got the milk and donuts and went home."

"Why did you tell me this story?" Mikey asks

"What? It's something that happened to me… I thought you'd like it." Chris smirked as if that should be obvious. Mikey had told him stories about his life all night. Chris assumed he wanted to hear one of his. He hadn’t picked the most interesting moment out of his life, assuming any moment would do.

Mikey shook his head, thinking something about that boy just isn’t right. He turned his attention to the two naked girls who were sneaking up on their position. He had to admire the girl’s perseverance and patience to methodically cross the distance as carefully as they could.

Wendy half whispered, “Uh-oh, I don't like THAT look” her smiling tone only half-serious. She hunkered down by the corrugated siding of somebody’s trailer scanning her son and husband. “When you guys start shifting your eyes back and forth, that usually isn't good.”

“Good for you? No.” Bill’s eyes brightened in the darkness, “Good for us? Every time!” he slipped his hand out to his son for a quick hi-five.

“This is Madame Chang’s, she is a good friend, and I think she will have just what you guys need.” Mikey, who usually liked to elaborate with funny stories didn’t have a lot to say as he started to walk up the steps to an airbrushed trailer right across from where they were standing.

“Should we come with you sir?” Wendy noticed with some trepidation, a large gap between the trailer they were currently up against, and Madame Chang’s door. It should be said that despite it being completely nighttime, the arrangement of lamps, signs, and rides lit up most everywhere so people could go about the business of having fun. Darkness was at a premium and where Jamie and Wendy currently were. It was shaded by an overhead tree that blocked out much of the ambient lights giving them a somewhat false sense of security against discovery. Granted, the trailer was unoccupied, it’s inhabitant no doubt an employee of the fair working at the present.

“No, you two are going to learn a new position to add to your repertoire.” Bill put his hands on his hips remembering some ad hoc position Chris had put his sister in. “A new one word command, When you hear a Taylor man tell you to squat you are going to say nothing. Your acknowledgement will be to bend all the way at the knees until your ass is about four inches off the floor, spread your knees apart so your cunt is as parted as possible, cup your tits with your hands. That is it. Under the boob! Leave those nipples visible and on display, eyes straight ahead.” He instructed them as he watched them both follow his orders. Wendy and her daughter now had their asses just inches off the sun-baked clay of the county fair.

“Good bitches, I am proud of you. We’ll be back in three shakes of a lambs tail.” He winked at his wife as he turned to go inside with the other males in the party, leaving them alone.

The girls had learned a few standard short ‘one word’ commands from Bill, even though some were more than one word. Inspection position one and two, curtsy, and now squat. Chris was always trying new “Stupid human pet tricks” like the spread/clench two-part command they had done a little earlier with their butt cracks to deliver Mikey’s payment.

Wendy could not believe she was secretly amused and surprised by Chris’s imagination to think up ideas like that. She just wished he would write them down somewhere, because it was hard to remember all of his games and code words. She knew he’d forget them and probably expect her to remember. It was pretty hard to write things down when no one lets you bring your purse. “How fucked am I? To be mad at my son for not writing down the names of the humiliating positions he thinks up.” She thought to herself with amusement. Even as she laughed at herself for it, a niggling part of her still felt it was a shame he wasn’t writing down his creative ideas in one organized place. “Gah, why am I such a…mother?” she whispered to herself, disgust tempered with mirth that she was so much like her own mother. She chided herself for always feeling compelled to organize everyone and everything like it was her duty to fight back the chaos of everyday life and bad planning for those closest to her.

A cool breeze whistled through the gap between the trailers. Wendy watched a happy family of four laugh as they walked by. Their kids eating cotton candy, the mom arm in arm with her husband. She was thinking introspectively.

“So, this is a typical Thursday night for the Taylors, huh?” Wendy was the first to break the silence to lighten the mood.

“I don’t know, I am kind of afraid a bug might crawl into my cunt.” Jamie’s use of the word cunt, especially with the two of them alone still sounded so ‘wrong’ coming from her innocent face. It was however the word the guys preferred and expected them to use for their vagina and it wouldn‘t be the first or last time Jamie said it. It still made Wendy’s skin crawl every now and then.

Giggling slightly, “You think it’d be a grasshopper?” Wendy said playfully. She could not see Jamie’s face but the two of them were blowing off steam and she knew her daughter saw it as the playful little barb it was intended to be without hearing a response.

There was another uncomfortable pause, as both of the girls started to feel the strain of their muscles holding the squatting position.

“OH SHIT!” Wendy exclaimed with alarm.

“What is it, Mom?” Jamie’s voice was still at the half-whisper they had been using to talk back and forth, showing obvious concern.

Wendy held her hand up to her face, fingers wide and buried her face in it laughing as if she had just made a bone headed mistake that amused her. “I broke a nail.” She sighed. She grinned as she examined the nail that had obviously chipped off during their late night crawl through the back ways of the fair. “What used to bother me so much. Things like this, they don’t seem so important now, you know?”

“Yeah, I think I do.” Jamie’s right lip curled just slightly into an, “I know exactly what you mean.” face. “I kind of feel I may have pulled a groin muscle earlier.” She was about to explain further, when she asked more seriously, “Do you think anyone is watching us out here?” keeping her head straight, her body still.

“I’d imagine if they were, they’d either be approaching us by now, or laughing hysterically.” Wendy said with a wry expression. “It isn’t every day you see two naked sluts, holding their tits, spreading their cunts, and talking to each other in a dark alley at the fair.”

“You are right, that is definitely more a Thursday night.” Jamie’s joke making Wendy gasp for a second laughing aloud.

“We’ve been on quite an adventure, you and I.” Wendy’s voice showing appreciation for the adversity they faced together. “I don’t think I could have done this without you... Thank you, Jamie.”

“Hey, we are partners in crime.” Jamie sounded as if she might be rocking herself back and forth, as she said the last line.

“Are the piercings bothering you?” Wendy asked. Both of them holding the conversation veiled in the darkness. They could not see one another’s faces as they looked straight ahead as instructed, cupping their tits.

“Kind of,” Jamie answered in an uncomfortable tone, “It feels like I’ve plucked a single nose hair and half way through a sneeze, when your eyes and nose are itchy and about to tear up, your entire abdomen tightens up. It makes me want to pee and cry at the same time. I wish they would hurry up.” swaying as she did, trying to keep her mind off it.

“So go right there?” Wendy asked, as if it was no big deal. They were already squatting in a very ideal position to piss.

“Without permission?” Jamie seemed shocked her mom would even suggest it.

“I am impressed, baby girl.” Wendy admitted, “You are taking this very seriously!”

Jamie looked at her mom “I feel like my bladder is going to burst if I don’t pee soon, but I am doing my best. Don’t tell me, you cheat sometimes and go without asking permission?”

“Not at home, there is never any privacy then. They would hear the toilet flush. Your brother caught me farting once and gave me a correction! Just for Farting!” Wendy smiled as she said it. Her tone like someone telling a story about someone who had the nerve to take the parking spot you were waiting for at the mall. How could she have held in a fart? It was altogether silly, unreasonable and an over-reaction to her body’s natural faux-pas. She thought a simple infraction would have been fair for the offensive sound an odor.

Wendy wondered to herself, how she had grown comfortable enough to accept she should at least be punished somehow for something she used to do if it suited her (quietly of course).

“So you HAVE thought about ways you could go, you just don’t because they’d catch you?” Jamie smiled coyly at her mother, as if the two were scheming. She did not say it, but she too had noted that Chris sometimes tried to give corrections for much more minor offenses. The two of them had been following all of the guidelines so that corrections were rare and he was probably bored.

“At work, the guy your Dad put to supervise me doesn’t watch me all the time. He does not like to watch me do, well you know. That.” Wendy alluded to her bathroom time. She had said shit and piss dozens of times openly this past week, but it seemed weird just between the two of them.

“You know we aren’t permitted to use euphemisms either, Mom!” her voice sounding testy. “It’s just you and me anyway, you can say piss and shit.” referring to her father’s “Say what you mean, mean what you say” policy where the girls couldn’t gloss over the dirtier things in life any longer.

“Are you going to turn me in to your father and Chris?” Wendy asked half-joking, “When it is just you and me saying shit and piss makes me uncomfortable.”

“You think it makes me comfortable? I am playing their game, by their rules, you need to too!” Jamie was getting testier with her mom, hopping from foot to foot.

Wendy was quiet for a moment, as her daughter had just schooled her on her logic. A grin swept across her face “Snitch on me, and I’ll tell them you peed out here.”

Jamie’s expression was a surprised but amused, “Oh no you wouldn’t!!” her eyes wide, her mouth open in an “Oh!!” mock excited look, but before she could joke back with her mom, the side door to the trailer opened. The men stepped out holding shirts. Finally, they could get dressed. They were also carrying bottled water; the two of them were so thirsty.

“Miss us, bitches?” Bill asked.

“Yes Sir” They half-whispered in unison.

“Want some water, it is delicious?” He smiled effortlessly twisting off the top to a fresh bottle.

“Yes Sir” their voices a little louder and more excited.

“Well, well,” He smirked, “When I asked if you missed me, I got a half-hearted little greeting. When I asked if you wanted something from me, you pipe right up and turn on the charm, why am I not surprised?”

Wendy answered for them, taking a more serious tone the way she did in affirmations, “We are both greedy bitches, sir. It is our nature to put our own needs first whenever we think we are able. Which is why we need and accept your constant tutelage...” she was about to finish when Bill hushed her.

“Did you hear that? I thought I saw something?” Bill looked around, finally determining he must be paranoid. “If we get caught with you naked bitches, we’ll go to fair jail. You know what kind of risk we are taking just because you are both fucking irresponsible cunts with your clothes?” Failing to mention, their only mistake had been giving Chris the clothes as he took another swig of water.

Not waiting for a response, he held up two shirts. “I’ve got a choice for you girls”

“Whichever you think is most fitting, Sir.” Jamie’s voice was shaky; she tried to stifle her hopping so her father would not notice.

“That is so kind of you to give me permission to decide what you should wear. Is there anything else you’d like to say, or can I finish?”

“No sir, I’ve nothing to say. Sorry for being an interrupting bitch.” Jamie apologized.

“Hey Mikey, Knock Knock” Chris spoke up.

“Who’s there?” Mikey only half played along.

“Interrupting Bitch”

“Interrupting Bi--” As Mikey was in the middle of asking who, Jamie squealed a high pitch squeal, as her brother bent over and gave her nipples a hard tug, twist and pull at the same time. The squeal was loud enough it may have been heard a good distance away if not for the fact the fair had a low roar of its own sounds, of Ferris wheels, laughter and fun to wash it out.

Mikey laughed hysterically “I’ve got to remember that one; you are a trip, little man. You’ve got to come visit me some time.” Reaching his hand out to shake Chris and adding “Be Well, Kemo-slobby”

“So long, Bone Ranger.” Chris replied.

“I feel a little bad leaving right now, because I feel this story is just getting started. I’ve got to get back to my shop and try to make some cash, though.” Mikey extended another warm handshake to Bill saying his goodbyes.

“Can I give you a hug, Sir?”

“You guys give hugs?”

“That is what whores do, Sir.” Wendy winked at him. “Sirs, can I stand to hug Mikey goodbye? He’s been so good to us, sluts tonight.”

“Too good, and too gentle!” Bill said trying to sound like a stern ogre, but coming across like a gruff teddy bear. “Yeah, you can both hug him if you want.”

Wendy and Jamie hugged Mikey together, all three warmly embracing at the same time. “Whoa, mother daughter action. Film at 11.” Mikey tried to cover his obvious excitement with humor. After the embrace he warned them both “Don’t do anything I would not do. Don’t forget to lotion up those asses!!” and with a wink he walked off into the distance back to his shop.

“Are you girls ready to have fun tonight?” Bill asked finally, just the four of them alone.

“Yes Sir!” Their voices more excited and cheerful.

“Well I'll tell you something, this is no longer JUST a family fun night, it's a quest. It's a quest for fun. I'm gonna have fun and you're gonna have fun, we're all gonna have so much fucking fun we'll need plastic surgery to remove our goddamn smiles! You'll be whistling Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah out of your assholes! “Bill quoted one of his favorite movies, remembering when his own father had told him that, on a family trip to Disney World as a kid. He delivered it like a high school football coach giving a pep talk.

There was no reaction from his family. “None of you have seen National Lampoon’s Vacation? It is a god-damned classic!” Realizing that as a family they had not sat down and watched a movie on TV or in the theater in years. “I’ll tell you another thing; we are going to see a fucking movie together as a family one night before this is all over. You bitches are going with me.”

Wendy reassured her husband she would go to a movie after her training was up with a hopeful voice.

“Not some damned Sex in the City, shit. The men get to pick it. It will be a Good movie, with explosions and you’ll both hold the popcorn, and feed us.” Bill was already picturing it in his mind.

The two girls had been standing since Mikey left, after their long curiously grope-free hug. They were both getting antsy standing as they were.

“Okay, Okay. I see you two are getting impatient for Family Fun Night.” Bill nodded knowingly at the two girls.

“A lot more fun, than Family Nun Night” Chris said goofily, holding up two t-shirts as his father explained the choice they were going to make. “We are going to play Shirts or Skins! You know how in flag football, one team picks shirts, and the other team takes their shirts off, so you can tell who is on what team?”

“Oh yeah, and when its intramural co-ed, the boy’s ALWAYS make the same joke... You girls can be skins!” Jamie’s face formed an adorable lemony squint as she scrunched her pointy little nose with a gleam in her eye.

Bill smiled. He had wanted to say something about how the boys deserved to look at her sweater meat. He couldn’t though, because he remembered making that exact same joke back in high school. He was too busy smirking at her spot-on observation about the universal nature of that joke.

Chris held up the first shirt. It was a white-cotton tee airbrushed to look exactly like a naked woman on the front. Dark, purple nipples about the size of a half-dollar dominated the large round tits. The pussy slit was painted, and there was a hint of a Brazilian to accentuate and draw the eyes.

“We asked for hairless cunts, but they didn’t have any already made up.” He flipped the shirt around revealing a naked back painted all the way down to a very bulbous ass, with a prominence ass crack. “We can get them to paint Whore on the ass just like yours, no charge. This one would be Jamie’s shirt, so she could have tig old biddies, like Mom!” grimacing at his Sister.

He introduced the next shirt, made of a very sheer, stretchy pink material, which was obviously for Wendy. It had airbrushing art of two milk jugs over each breast and the words “MILK, MILK” repeated. There was a glass of lemonade just above the bottom of the shirt painted there as well. Chris flipped the shirt around after pointing out what was on the front.

“Milk, Milk, Lemonade! Around the corner Fudge is made!” Chris sang the children’s dirty nursery rhyme. The back of the shirt had a brown bar similar to a Baby Ruth and the word “Fudge.” “If anyone starts singing it to you, you will be required to point to the part they sing about and turn around to display the fudge, wiggling it, when they get to that part!” he stipulated, making it sound like that should be obvious without being said.

“Okay, what is the choice, Sir?” Wendy asked skeptically of her son.

“Tonight has been fun.” Chris explained. “But all night it has just been us telling you what to do and you do it. Do this, Yes Sir, Do that, Yes Sir” Chris alternated pretending to use his sister’s voice for the yes sirs.

Bill added, “What we are trying to say is it would involve you more, if you aren’t just passive spectators along for the ride. Instead, we want you to think about which one you are willing to do, and why. Giving you some choices makes you more of a player in our games.” Bill said handing back the floor to his son to continue the explanation.

“You can pick the shirts.” waving them both before chugging some water. “Blech! Water” he spit out a mouthful of the cold water onto the dried dirt and clay wasting it. He was clearly unaccustomed to drinking something without carbonation, high fructose corn syrup, and caffeine in it. It also reminded Wendy and Jamie of just how thirsty they both were.

“Or you can pick, body painting. Madame Chang will airbrush your entire body.” Chris tried to give this option a sense of wonder and exotica.

“What would we be, SpongeBoob and Sandy Buttcheeks?” Wendy joked. She was referring to the costumed cartoon characters SpongeBob and Sandy Cheeks they had seen earlier in the day.

“That isn't a bad idea, Dad can be Mr. Krabbs.” Chris smiled at his dad.

“Oh really? Then you are Squigward!” Bill mussed up his sons hair teasing.

“Ha-ha, you DO watch SpongeBob.”

“Okay, if the damned show is on and I don't feel like changing the channel.” Bill added gruffly, slightly embarrassed by his son’s wisecracks. “So which do you cunts pick?”

“What is the catch, Sir?” Wendy did not think it would be this easy.

“Always the skeptic!” Bill made a “tsk tsk” sound as he shook his head in disbelief at their cynicism. “Why does there always have to be a catch?” He asked.

“Then the shirts!” The girls said eagerly, Jamie still hopping from foot to foot.

“Well you didn’t hear the catch!” Chris teased, glancing over at his father who was enjoying his little father-son joke at his wife's expense. They HAD planned a catch all along. It was just funny to them for some reason known only to them to pretend like they had come at this with no cards up their sleeve.

“You will earn the same amount stars no matter what you pick. It is going to be based on your overall performance, so one is not necessarily better than the other is for that. If you pick the shirts, then you will have to follow us around playing dares, they aren’t going to be easy, and they are going to be disgusting and hard.”

“The shirts!” the girls still eager.

“”You will have to eat a funnel cake, covered in chocolate syrup, with kielbasa, and nacho cheese!” Chris’s face was a sadistic smile as he described the gross-out food concoction, obviously his idea.

Wendy and Jamie looked at each other, and then back at Chris “The shirts.” They would eat the gross food.

“You will have to ride the Himalaya, The Octopus, The Viking Ship…and the Anaconda!” Chris knew his sister got sick on rides, and was looking forward to watching his sister blow chunks after she ate her ‘Dinner’ .

Bill added, “And you’ll be graded on how well you flash, probably have to ‘accidentally’ lose the shirt in the loop-dee-loop of the Anaconda as the finale of the night, then run around holding your tits as if you are afraid of someone seeing your melons, and look for it.”

“What if we lose the shirts for good?” Wendy asked innocently.

“Back up shirts!” Chris held up two other matching shirts. “I’m with stupid” and an arrow pointing up. “For the ride home”

“I think it’s better than walking around completely naked, with just a little paint on our body for the entire night. You saw those kids groping on the real SpongeBob today. They’ll pull my titty clean off, and try to take it home.” Wendy said grinning.

“Agreed. I think the shirts, too. That is a lot safer. I don’t think we’d be allowed to walk around completely naked with just body paint.”

“It isn’t totally naked. She said she could airbrush you up in about 10 minutes each. She’ll give you some kind of butt wrap to protect your ass crack, your precious little slits.” Bill lightly slapped his wife’s bare cunt for comedic affect, feeling the metal ring as he did so and smiled. “You get something to cover the nipples themselves. It will not be so bad, especially in the dark. You will look festive, as if you are supposed to look like that. I really liked your idea of SpongeBoob and Sandy Ass Cheeks. You have a dirty mind.”

“Sandy Butt Cheeks” Chris corrected his dad, receiving a ‘whatever’ shrug in response for his efforts.

Wendy’s natural tendency was to consider all offers. She could not resist asking out of curiosity, her mind still set on shirts.

“She agreed to paint them and all you have to do is stand outside of her store, spinning signs for an hour. Then when you are done, we come back and do some dares and games, but no rides this time.” amending after a short pause “Unless we can't think of anything more to do, and then yes, it would be rides.” with a grin.

Wendy was not particularly fond of speed rides, and Jamie loathed them. They spin you, turn you upside down, make you sick to your stomach, and lose half of what you brought with you on the ride. In a small way, it was a metaphor for the ride they were on in life, being disciplined by Bill and Chris. Even though neither Jamie nor Wendy were looking forward to getting on rides, it seemed much more tolerable than the 'skins' option to them at this point.

“What will you two do for an hour by yourselves?” Wendy tried not to show concern on her face, or seem critical. Her maternal instincts and old habits of being the organizer of the family were kicking in. She did not see how this plan made a lot of sense for them to separate on a ‘family fun night’.

Bill had not thought about it. He scratched his chin stubble and said without thinking about it “Probably have some father-son bonding time. There is a beer tent not too far from here. We’ll have a seat there, while you work off your payment to Madame Chang.”

Chris sounded excited, “Wow, I get to have another Beer?” remembering the one he shared with his Dad earlier.

Bill was automatically about to sarcastically reply “Root Beer.” He stopped himself right before he did, looked directly at his Son. “Chris, I believe you should sit down and have a beer with me. One beer though!” holding up a finger. He would not get drunk off two beers, not with his weight that was for sure.

Bill had been 18 when the drinking age was raised to twenty-one when he was growing up, and remembered having a drink with his father as a rite of passage to adulthood. The fair beer tent did not seem like it was going to be very strict. He would just walk up and buy two beers in plastic cups and set them down at a table. No one would give a shit.

Wendy had been certain of shirts, until she heard “Father-son bonding time.” It melted her heart and touched that sappy nerve buried deep inside of her that could not help but be touched by hearing it. She was oblivious to the fact Bill had not actually been trying to sound sappy or particularly loving at that moment. His words by accident or intention had come off that way naturally. As an executive, she would make multi-million dollar budgetary decisions daily. Why was she now finding it so hard to make up her mind? She wondered if when her submission was over, would she have a tough time going back to being a decisive executive with killer instincts in the boardroom.

There was a certain comfort in having someone decide what you will wear, when you will eat, what you will eat. Even though along the way, she faced shock, horror and humiliation. There had been a comfortable ‘rut’ to the arrangement. She could turn off her brain during the training, the part that was constantly juggling pros and cons of every decision safe in the knowledge Bill would not let things get too out of whack. When he had let things go too far, he seemed to be learning from his mistakes and coming up with ways to make them right.

She bit her lip, wishing he had not said ‘father/son bonding time’ she kept replaying the words over in her mind, and thinking the two deserved some time away from the girls. It had to be draining on them to constantly supervise the girls. They may just need a little time to ‘hang out’ and ‘shoot the shit’ she thought those words in the voices of her husband and son. Bill sounded unexpectedly like Travis Tritt the country singer, with a slight country twang and her son sounded exactly like Peter Griffin the cartoon son on Family Guy when she heard the voices of each of them in her imagination.

“I’m kind of leaning towards the body painting thing, Jamie.” Wendy said introspectively.

“What? You understand Mom, no bra?” She grabbed a handful of her mom’s tits with each hand and wiggled them back and forth to make her point, letting them fall with a jiggle. “Look, these are going to be painted, but they’ll be doing this. OUT there.” She thumbed towards the not-so-distant well-lit walkway to rides and games a short distance away.

Wendy didn’t want to ruin the guy’s fun by pointing out this was a grand gesture on her part and make them feel guilty for leaving them alone, naked, and vulnerable at some fair. At the same time, she very much saw her daughter’s point. They probably needed a little time away from all this discipline and dirty stuff. She wished she had that same luxury, it felt good to be gracious and self-sacrificing. At the same time, the shirts sounded like the safer and more conservative of the two options by far.

“Fine, Mom can be SpongeBoob alone, and I’ll do the shirt.” Jamie could feel a sudden pee-torrent ready to burst if she did not say something fast, in a rushed panic she added, “I am sorry sirs for bringing this up, but my bladder is about to explode. May I please be permitted, like the dog I am, right here in front of you where you can supervise me.” she asked sweetly. The men had established they did not like the girls to go to the bathroom unsupervised, due to their concern they would lollygag around and waste time if they did.

“You will both pick one or the other, shirts or skins! You are a team, you little skanks! You’ve got to get that through the fat-asses you do your thinking with.” He paused considering her request to pee, “Yes, before you piss on my shoe. Squat down, and piss in this empty water bottle. I’ll need it for the dares.” Jamie hadn’t drank piss, unless you counted little dribbles of her pussy juice when she had to clean fingers that had inspected her or she masturbated it, and she didn’t consider that piss. Even when she drank from the toilet for two days earlier in the week as a disciplinary measure, it was always clean water.

She didn’t hesitate, taking the bottle and holding it right below her pee-hole, she squatted. Releasing her piss in the dark, as the others listened to the sound, like running tap water.

“Well now I have to go too, Sir. May I please piss like my slut of a daughter, for your amusement?” Wendy knew that the guys enjoyed her begging, so she added “Please Sirs?” desperately for them to get their well-deserved jollies at her expense.

Bill noticing the water bottle still had a little warm water in it, waited until his wife was squatting to hand it to her.

“Open your mouth, piggy.” Bill ordered.

He stuck the bottle about waist level, as if it was his cock fully erect. “You wanted a drink of water, still want it, slut?”

Wendy put her mouth around the bottle with slight hesitation. She hadn’t sucked dick in front of Jamie and in the dark the way he was feeding her the last little bit of water, it seemed like he was purposely trying to cross the invisible, unspoken line of what was too far. She said nothing, she was thirsty, hot and it was already in her mouth.

“Look, you little cocksucker. You drank so much; your daughter only gets a tiny swallow.” He admonished his wife as he pulled out from her lips, while she greedily drank the bottle, unaware that this would be Jamie’s drink too. She instantly felt double guilt for simulated oral and drinking Jamie’s water.

“Your pig of a mom drank almost all of it, are you too conceited to wrap your precious princess, too-perfect for anyone’s lips around this water bottle, or would you rather waste the last drop?” Bill asked his daughter, holding the plastic bottle like a cock near her face.

She had not sucked a dick yet. It had come up as part of the date nights, and she had been very close to having to do it. The idea of it being her father at the same time creeped her out more so, than perhaps if it had been Chris. Her father had a way of making his games more serious, Chris’s were usually gross, but slightly more playful.

“Anything my whore of a mom will do tonight, I will do, Sir.” She was just finishing her final squirts of piss into her own water bottle, as she thrust her mouth on the water bottle her mom had just been sucking on. She stroked one hand, up and down the shaft of the water bottle, taking it into her mouth puffing out one of her cheeks. She barely got any water, but she did manage to give her mother a look that seemed far too naughty for innocent Jamie.

Where was this dirty girl coming from? Some place deeply repressed and buried in her daughter. Wendy thought, feeling a tinge of the friendly rivalry that cropped up between them from time to time when the guys made them play competitive dares against each other. “You are so going to get yours, tonight slut.” Wendy smirked at her daughter, trying to erase the image of her daughter sucking that bottle at her husband’s waist, and giving it a hand job at the same time.

Jamie let go of the bottle, her mouth making a slight sucking sound breaking the suction as she did. “Prove it, pick shirts, and let’s go be good whores for Dad and Chris!” Jamie’s mood lightened as she put the bottle-feeding out of her mind and responded to her mom’s challenge.

“The deal was whatever dares tonight they give, you went on record as saying, that ANYTHING I do, you will do.” Wendy quoted her daughter’s intent from when they first arrived. “As I recall, you’d accept a correction right out on the midway?” indicating the direction of the central activity of the fair’s rides and vendors now in full swing.

“Mom’s right. You did say that.” Chris said as he bit into a giant piece of licorice, that no one saw him walk out with.

“And I want to be painted up like SpongeBoob, so you my dear girl, are going to be Sandy Butt Cheeks and like it.” her voice sounding sweet but condescending.

“Yes Ma’am” Jamie said instinctively to her mother. Surprising everyone, even herself that she had given her mom a title of respect.

“We really need a rule against that; she can’t speak to her mom with respect. It is a respect free zone for Mom for a week.” Chris said to his father with a trace of playfulness...

“You are right. I’d punish her, but we need to get that beer, and get back here in an hour, so we have plenty of time to put these bitches, through their paces. I’ve got this idea for the goldfish tent.”

“You mean the one where you toss dimes into goldfish bowls and if you make it in you get to keep the goldfish as a pet?” Chris replied to his father.

“Yeah, but we’ve already got two pets, and they take up all our time.” He grabbed his wife by her braided pigtails, as Chis grabbed his sister the same way. “Seal up those piss bottles” pulling them to their feet behind them as they walked them over to Madame Chang’s back door.

But, I didn’t get to pee in my bottle.” Wendy thought to herself with a pout as she followed her husband. Watching her daughter try not to spill, any of her piss-water on her hands as she struggled to follow her brother and seal the bottle.

This was going to be a long night. A long hard night. They had just chosen ‘skins’. Wendy reminded herself, ‘Father-son bonding time’ as she was pulled roughly upstairs to face the consequences of her decision.