The Family Feud III

Chapter Twelve
“The Tunnel of Family Love”

STAR COUNT:
WENDY: 26
JAMIE: 29

Wendy was smiling as they completed the Midway circuit. She wasn’t sure why, it sure wasn’t because she had just sucked her son’s younger friend’s dick. It sure wasn’t because she had just bit into a corn dog that had been sandwiched between her ass-cheeks and on the floor of the port-a-potty. It sure wasn’t because her pussy was STILL throbbing from the bite of those painful alligator clips.

It may have been because after Wendy had impressively demonstrated her performance with Gerald on a Corn Dog her son’s only response was to jack up his prices. It was the most surreal complement, and Wendy felt a little bad grinning as she walked behind Chris and Gerald thinking about it.

It had just been so funny, how he had said straight faced to Gerald that he was going to have to charge more. He had underestimated his Mom, she smirked not paying attention to their conversation. She hadn’t want to think too deeply about what the compliment really meant, she was satisfied to be amused with how he showed his approval.

Chris and Gerald were paying her no attention at all, making good time for the rendezvous spot with her husband.

“Look at that sausage stand, they’ve got a picture of Michael Jackson on the side of their cart. I would think seeing him on the side of where you buy your food wouldn’t inspire confidence, it’d probably frighten kids away.” Gerald was saying when Wendy listened in.

“Nah, it’s Michael Jackson Dogs. 50 year old wieners, between five year old buns.” Chris was genuinely funny and Wendy giggled at that, too.

Chris didn’t pay his mom any attention. She realized “Mother-son” bonding time was done and over with in light of his friend tagging along. The two friends were people watching and laughing, completely absorbed in each other’s company.

Wendy dropped her corn dog and begged them to stop. Begrudgingly they did, but they didn’t wait for her to perform with it, turning away as soon as she put it in her mouth. Wendy felt equally as guilty about the fact she may have just engineered that ‘accident’ for attention, or perhaps for her son’s approval as much as she had felt guilty for sticking it in her mouth. She didn’t do that again for the rest of the walk back to meet Bill.

Bill was standing there with Jamie tossing fried balls of dough at her while she paced back and forth. Bill had set up his own little target gallery and each time he hit her, she changed direction. She had cotton candy in her hair, and looked miserable.

“What took you guys so long?” Bill complained to his son. “I know your mom is lazy and walks slow.” Bill put the blame on his wife, even if he really didn’t believe she would doddle.

“Sorry, I hooked up with Gerald”

“Bro’s before Ho’s.” Bill offered a fist-bump to his son to let him know he had only been kidding about being upset. He offered one to Gerald who returned Bill’s bump with aplomb.

“We ran into those boys who didn’t get their monies worth at Madam Chang’s.” He pointed to his daughter’s hair. “They didn’t want to waste a frozen slushee, but it may take her a while to comb her hair in the morning.” Bill grinned.

“They sure like to tickle, don’t they kitten?”

Jamie pouted and nodded agreement.

“Greet your boyfriend, Gerald, and show him what a piggy you are.” Bill instructed his daughter.

Jamie walked over to Gerald with a sad face, trying to muster a pleasant demeanor. “Hello Sir, I am glad to see you again. I ate an entire foot long that my dad was kind enough to feed me, like a big fat pig.” She admitted, before turning her back to him and flipping her skirt up. The stick to the corn dog was pointing out between her ass cheeks. It had been shoved directly into her asshole only peeking out about 6 inches. She didn’t seem to be in too much distress, in part because she had worn a much fatter anal plug for over an hour only a short time ago. “This is my piggy tail, to remind me what a fat pig I am, Sir.” She wiggled her butt before letting the flap fall.

They were at the very center of the Midway, but in a slightly isolated, covered eating area shared by a few food stands with only a few picnic tables. Jamie had not bothered to try to be discrete about flashing her ass to Gerald. Whatever had happened during her time alone with her dad, she was almost numbed by it.

Gerald wasn’t numbed. He was grinning from ear to ear, shaking his head in disbelief that the tattoo was real. He had only caught a brief glimpse, but he already knew what was on Wendy’s ass was the exact same design.

“Let me see your daughter flip that skirt up again?” A big redneck eating pulled pork called out from one of the other tables. He was covered in tattoos himself, sporting a full shaggy red beard.

“You didn’t see enough of it already?” Bill asked him with a smile. His rhetorical question making Wendy wonder if Jamie’s corn dog dare had been even worse than hers.

“Who gets tired of a pooper like hers?” he said while shoveling bits of pork into his mouth, a few flecks of pork falling into his beard.

“Her mom’s here, you want to see who she inherited that bubble butt from?” Bill’s words sliced through the girls like a knife. They had well rounded asses, but calling them bulbous or bubble butts was a trigger word.

Wendy wasn’t sure what had broken her daughter’s spirit so much in the last 20 minutes that she seemed so compliant yet depressed, but she didn’t like it. There was a “So, whatever?” to her attitude that had not been present for the last week. She just wanted to hug her daughter and give her comfort from the derisive laughter of the men.

She looked at her husband’s eyes for some sign that there was an ounce of kindness there. That there was a lesson being taught, but all she saw back was cruelty and uncaring feelings.

“Red Flag, Sir.” Wendy had to summon more courage than it had taken to do half of the perverse acts she performed tonight to say it. She had just reached a breaking point, and now that she said it, it was out there. The words “Red” and “Flag” hanging out in the air between them.

“Red Flag?” He asked to confirm she was serious.

“Yes Sir, Red Flag. When we agreed to this training, you gave us a safety valve if things weren’t going right.” She reminded him of a clause in “Bill’s Bill” the rather chaotic stream of consciousness collection of rules he had written for them a week ago.

He knew exactly what clause she was talking about. He had put it in there because he knew his wife would want some checks and balances to his authority before she agreed to it. They hadn’t had to use this clause, although they had family meetings at times, the girls had been troopers as far as accepting whatever discipline and humiliation the men could come up with.

(Excerpted from “Bill's Bill” Chapter 9, Family Feud Book 2)

Red Flag:

As the Taylor women are by their very nature skeptical and not trusting of their betters, the women would be likely to question and potentially hesitate in carrying out their orders.

There were some lines scratched through explaining examples from the first day of their training where the girls seemed in doubt about going through with the training.

This section outlined an opportunity for males or females to call “Red Flag” for rare conditions, when they feel things have gone too far. Things will be backed down, people will cool off and within 72 hours a family meeting will be had to address it. If the females are doing this to get out of something that has already been resolved, then shall receive at the very least a correction, and more likely a judgment against them. Nothing was specified if the men needed to call a red flag and it turned out to be unnecessary.

“You are going to call red flag over showing your ass to this guy?” Bill asked his wife in disbelief. The man looked down at his BBQ as if to distance himself from the conversation.

Wendy’s objection seemed to come out of the blue to Bill. Chris and Jamie also seemed stunned.

After having Jamie ringed and tattooed, forced to perform virtually naked for strangers this seemed like the least reason to be calling a red flag. Bill had not told his daughter to stick her ass in his face, or use it to wipe his beard clean.

“No sir, I’ve shown my ass to strangers many times this past week, he can see.” She turned around to face away from him, and lifted her skirt, “Get a good look sir?” she waited for an answer, and when none was forthcoming she let her skirt down.

It was clear now to Jamie, that her Mother had reached a sort of breaking point and epiphany. The latest order to show her ass wasn’t at issue. It was something else, something more.

“Just calm down, calm down.” A bewildered Bill tried to sound patient and understanding.

“I am calm sir, but I want to call red flag.” She clearly did seem to have an elevated sense of urgency about her, although her voice remained calm, even submissive.

“Fine, Gerald. You fuck off for a while.” Bill gestured with a dismissive wave of his hand. Gerald didn’t hesitate to leave, darting out into the midway to look for his own family.

“Would you like to have the family meeting here in this little food court, Sir?” Wendy seemed a little calmer, now that she was being listened too.

“Seems like as good a place as any?” Bill looked at his wrist before realizing he wasn’t even wearing a watch. He hadn’t carried one in years, now that he had a cell phone. He checked the time on his phone. It was 11:30PM. The time had flown by, and this was probably the zenith of activity at the fair for tonight.

“Usually, you do them some place we can speak freely, and make us kneel in the nude, Sir.” Wendy was not sure why she was asking for that, but it seemed too casual where they were to have a formal family meeting.

“Is there some place, you have in mind?”

Wendy wanted to say home. She knew they had overstayed their welcome at Mikey’s gazebo and Madam Changs. She also knew with few exceptions, there weren’t many places behind the games and trailers they could hold a meeting.

“I don’t know. The arcade when we first came in seemed quiet. He might let us talk there. Some place it isn’t so busy?” Wendy winced looking over her shoulder at two girls about Jamie’s age getting into an intense argument. People were gathering in a circle around them, as they started to fight.

Wendy then noticed Uncle Creepy. The so-called security guard was sitting right across from her, staring at her. Had been there the entire time. He made no move to break up the fight happening just feet away.

“Some place where it is just the four of us would be best, Sir.”

“If this isn’t important, and you interrupt family fun night with nonsense, I am going to hang you by your tits in front of the haunted house!” Bill threatened.

“Sir” Wendy turned her attention back to Uncle Creepy. “Is there some place my family and I can go privately to discuss our discipline? Where my daughter and I can be kept naked, and it won’t bother anyone?” she asked him politely.

Uncle Creepy pointed silently.

They turned their head to see the entrance to a tunnel of love ride. The entrance a large pink heart where couples could board ornate gondolas and be transported through what apparently was some sort of sappy little ride on 2 feet of water. The ride looked closed.

“Good enough” Bill led his family over to the closed ride. Uncle Creepy pulled a ring of keys that seemed too large for his pocket, unlocked a small electrical box and powered up the ride without turning on all the lights overhead. He pointed to the first gondola and sent Wendy and her husband through followed by Jamie and her brother. Jamie still had the corn dog stick in her ass, so she had to sit sidesaddle in their boat.

“This better be worth it.” Bill demanded as they passed baroque statues of cupid, paintings and frescoes that were supposed to appear romantic. Teddy bears, roses, sunshine and marmalade. Bill didn’t see how this could work on anyone’s emotions.

The boat stopped about halfway through the ride, at what appeared to be a fake beach. Mannequin lovers were in an embrace, some having picnics. The scene appeared to be a tranquil but romantic get-away. It was obvious Creepy wanted them to get out here.

Stepping out of the boat Chris teased his sister, “Don’t fall in, Sis.” and rocked the boat with his foot as she stepped across to the platform without responding back to his teases.

“It reminds me of that ride at Disney World,” Chris said out loud. “It’s a small world.” There were teddy bears hanging from the roof on trapeze, and a small fountain in the center of the menagerie of disparate romantically themed objects.

“This seems like a good as place as any for a family meeting, there are some plastic benches here by the fountain.” Bill noticed.

“May we undress Sir? We don’t deserve to sit on chairs during family meetings. We should be exposed, and not at the same level as our betters.” Wendy asked while repeating the lessons her husband had instructed in their past meetings.

“First you want a family meeting because it’s too hard, and now you want to be stripped?” Bill sounded confused.

Wendy didn’t wait to be told to strip. She started to unfasten her suspenders and pull off her top. “I am not saying you should let us out of our obligations Sir. You’ve been more than fair with our expectations. It hasn’t been too hard, it has been hard”. She explained as she let her bare tits fall to her chest as she removed her shirt.

Her daughter was not sure what Wendy was talking about, but dutifully she too removed her top without being told.

“I agree that the family meetings and affirmations must be arranged this way for our own good. To separate us from the notion we are your equals and that we are entitled to be prideful and arrogant. I respectfully submit to you as the males of the Taylor household, as naked as the day I was born, and almost as hairless” she smiled pleasantly.

She had placed her corn dog on her folded skirt, and was kneeling with her hands behind her head. She had even taken off her shoes, so that all she had on was her frayed cat collar.

Jamie did the same as her mother, without argument.

Bill wasn’t sure why Wendy would call a family meeting about how harsh things were, and then orchestrate, without being told, her proper place at his feet. His curiosity was piqued. He had to admit this felt far less like an argument now that they had peace and quiet and the girls were taking a proper respectful place at their feet.

“If it pleases you both.” Wendy said graciously as if talking to a King at his court. “I would like to air my concerns about tonight in an open manner. Before I do so, may I ask that I be permitted to remove the corn dog stick from my daughter’s ass?” Wendy tried to get through her speech without stumbling.

“You may”

“Please Jamie, do you mind?” She had her daughter take a position putting her ass right before her mother’s face. Then using her teeth alone, she pulled the slender corn dog rod from her daughter’s pink asshole. Reminding her once again that they both had tattoos of WHORE on their asses.”

When she pulled out the stick with her teeth, she set it on her skirt next to her own almost completely eaten corn dog. Then she had her daughter be seated again at her father and brother’s feet.

“As you can see Sir, you have trained us well to be willing to suffer for your amusement, to shed our pride for your amusement, to clean and serve for your amusement.”

Bill nodded; his wife was telling him nothing he didn’t already know. Things had gone even better than even his wildest expectations and imaginings could have made him hope for and there was still at least a week to go of his wife and daughter's 'training'.

“We would not have asked or ordered you to do some of these things, but we accept that because you are dealing with females, and the female condition, you have had to expand, even rewrite some of the lessons. We began our exercise with you with the best of intentions. We wanted to change you, shame you into taking responsibility, taking authority for the decisions that were yours. We went overboard, and for that, Your daughter and I continue to pay.”

Bill wasn’t sure if his wife was doing a ramble, or some self-guided affirmation. These were the answers to questions he had asked her in the past when she was in her affirmations. He wanted her to get to the point. What was her concern?

“You have been strict, and you have actually taught me some things, some things I didn’t think I would learn from this Sir.” Wendy began constructively.

“You have made me accept and do things shamelessly, that in a million years I would never think I am capable of.” She gave another constructive comment.

“But tonight, when I watch at my daughter, just shrug when given an order to bare her pretty ass to a man who wants to see it, I am disappointed.”

Bill and Chris were still confused.

“Look at my pussy lips, please Sirs.” Wendy tugged at her reddened lips, so they could see where the alligator clips bit into her.

“Chris insisted I wear them, and not knowing if I had too or not, I asked two old men who didn’t even speak English to clip them on my lips.” Wendy hoped that didn’t sound more extreme than it had been. She was trying to make a point here and didn’t want to go down the wrong trail.

“So what you propose is better defined limits and boundaries?” Bill tried to paraphrase what he was hearing.

“That would be nice, although there are so many things you can’t anticipate until they come up. The things we’ve done tonight have been spontaneous, and I will admit in a strange way some of them were fun. There should be clear guidelines as to what is and isn’t required.” She admitted.

Bill wanted to point out that he had only had a night to write his rules, and even though he hadn’t revisited them, he had been very busy keeping them in line. He kept quiet instead, because that would sound like his excuses for his procrastination and he didn’t like to admit that was a crutch of his. So was his lack of planning. He had at times meant for things to just fall into place, and those had been some of the most extreme situations, the motel with Rahjid, the tattoo etc.

“You have at times not given us the proper motivations to serve. Tonight, we’ve been subjected to humiliations, rented out to strangers, tattooed, but without the reinforcement that this all serves a purpose. That there is some lesson at the end.”

Bill had just wanted a family fun night of some games, bets and dares. He wasn’t ready for heavy thinking right now. He seemed introspective. He looked at his son who was just watching the girls and apparently half paying attention. Bill wanted to point out that this had already been worked out, his wife’s motivation to serve was her agreement. He kept that to himself, because he understood what she was saying to a point. That they had begun this training with the best of intentions, but they needed some attitude adjustments and motivations in between to keep them going.

“It seems no matter what we do, it isn’t enough and you don’t seem to care. Then when I see Jamie like a robot lifting her skirt for a stranger, without concern, I see that it saps her of the education this is supposed to be providing us.”

Bill was about to get defensive. He had given her many looks of praise for a job well done tonight. “So what is the solution?” He asked instead, choosing his words more carefully than he would have a week earlier.

“You are the men, I can only bring to your attention that your leadership style rolls downhill, and rubs off on how we respond to your orders.”

Bill wanted time to think about this. “Changes have to be made, obviously.” The men seemed to agree about that.

Jamie was also confused. She had just been trying to be a good sport about their cum-uppance. Some of her decisions that made sense at the time, like the tattoo and piercings she was having remorse about, but she was trying to remain positive, and look ahead as opposed to hang on to regrets. This was the advice she had read about or heard in her life. She had been such a good girl, always coloring in the lines and doing what was expected, that she had never done anything truly regrettable. It was much easier to follow the advice, when you didn't need it, she realized.

She had also quietly been ignoring the strange signals her body had been giving her all night. Even painful humiliating things that should disgust her, had made her wet. She still felt disgusted by them, but her pussy ached and dripped at uncomfortable times whether she liked it or not. Her nipples felt so pronounced and stiff, that at times other parts of her body got stiff, mostly the bottom of her feet in some sort of sympathetic reaction to her condition. She decided that given that her physical reactions could be influencing her emotional and logical ones, to defer to her mother on this matter. That would be safer, after all her mom had her back and would want what is best for her. She told herself that while quieting the voice that told her to be more independent and not let her mom coddle her.

“I don’t like to admit this, but the affirmations you give us, the ones where you question our motivations and make us think about what we are doing have helped fuel my resolve to accept the rules and the situation.” Wendy observed out loud. “It kind of acts like our own cheer squad. Motivating us to plow through what comes our way.”

Chris giggled, “So you like it when I make you stand up and call yourself a whore?”

Wendy smiled back at him casually, “I just said I don’t like to admit it, Sir” leaving the half-serious comment out there for a moment before clarifying her meaning. “I mean it isn’t the most pleasant experience. Heaven knows, you’ve enough video of the two of us admitting our shortcomings, asking for correction, accepting your authority in affirmations to bury me not only with my family, but anyone who happens to watch our Taylor home movies.”

Bill nodded as if he was starting to understand.

“It is just that as difficult as saying what we are, and what we are going to do, and what we are to you.” Wendy paused to think about her word choice. “Doing it is even harder. I would ask that between important family events, as often as you can, you consider doing formal affirmations, or at the very least shortened informal ones.”

Jamie wasn’t sure she liked that idea. It was sometimes easier to do things her father or brother ordered her to do, if they didn’t make her think too hard. That may have been her Mom’s point.

Bill asked if his wife wanted an affirmation right now.

“I need one to calm me, Sir.” Wendy admitted “I’ve started to get stressed out tonight. So many things have happened that it feels like several of my chapters of my life have happened in just a few short hours.” She grinned at her metaphor. “Even so, I must ask that you wait until after the family meeting, because I have more to bring up, and the attitude adjustment of the affirmations may diffuse my point, Sir.”

Bill bade his wife to continue with a wave of his hand.

“The other issue is with limits. I don’t know where the line is. If Chris tells me to put alligator clips on my pussy lips, or the lips on my face, or my eyelids, I don’t know where I can politely decline, Sir.” She was addressing them both even though she used the singular “Sir”.

Bill looked at his son appraisingly as if he were impressed “You had her put alligator clips on her eyelids, Son?”

Chris’s modest face suggested his mom was exaggerating her latest concern. “It wasn’t on her eyelids, just her pussy lips.”

“That is my point exactly, Sir.” She said to her son. “Where you would draw the line, where your father would draw the line, where Jamie and I would draw it, we aren’t on the same page. Every day I feel like I am not even on the same page with the Wendy of a week ago.” She said introspectively.

Chris grinned at his mother in response, “I didn’t know you had a line, you dirty slut.”

His jab wounded her ego more than usual. He called her names all the time. Lately she had been shrugging and absorbing it, even accepting that she must be one. At formal family meetings she couldn’t be punished for not following protocol, but she did so anyway. “Thank you Sir, for reminding me I am a dirty slut, and for your guidance in keeping me in line.” It had become easier to show deference to her son, but at times like this it really did make her feel like a ‘dirty slut’ to admit to him she was one.

Bill took his wife’s words as a sign that Wendy wanted her affirmation. He was about to order his sluts to stand up and give them one. The isolated grotto inside the tunnel of love was starting to get on his nerves and he wanted to continue his dares.

His wife hadn’t made all of her points yet and asked once again for a temporary delay from the affirmations. She laid out for him in summary the issues at hand in the same logical outline that Chris had done about his sister’s tattoo.

1. The sluts need affirmations more regular as part of routine to reinforce their position and not become automatons carrying out orders without thinking.
   
   

2. There should be clearly drawn limits and boundaries. The “gold stars” was supposed to act as some sort of carrot on a stick to motivate the girls to perform well. That it was doing well.
   
   It was also supposed to be a check and balance to the authority of the men. Things had become muddled on what was expected and required and what wasn’t required but if the girls were willing to stretch and reach for a star they could choose too. The idea being if both trainer and trainee agreed on the dare or order that was above and beyond simple expectations there had been an opportunity for a common sense objection and a polite decline of getting the star.

Wendy used an example that if Eyelids were off limits to torture, and she was fool enough or greedy enough for a star to agree to allow it to happen, and her trainer wanted it, then that was supposed to be the checks and balances. Instead, the girls were getting caught up in the excitement and competition and just saying “Yes” to everything.

Bill pointed out he could not be responsible for his slut’s poor judgment.

“You are right Sir, but at the same time, had there been clearly established rules that certain things were off limits, we would never have been asked to make a choice we shouldn’t have been permitted to make.

Wendy could tell Bill was a little lost by her latest point. She didn’t want to admit that she was talking in part about the idea that Chris could come across reckless or at least obstinate. That if he made her suck Gerald’s dick, how long before he made his Sister?

“There are so many possible uses for you, some of which I don’t know until I am right in the middle of things.”

Wendy bit her tongue. She had meant to bring up that some of the poor planning the men had done in the name of “Being spontaneous” had left her feeling without structure, without a plan. She had also meant to bring up her own internal concerns. There were simply so many, how she felt about the piercings and tattoos for her and her daughter being one of a dozen thoughts; The nagging suspicion that she was growing to accept humiliation and male dominance instead of just putting up with it for the sport of the guys. She decided it may only serve to confuse the issues at hand.

“One way we could change things is give you stars in increments of ten. If you get ten points, you get one star. “Bill was struggling to think of a panacea that would address all the issues. “This way I could dole out points as smaller rewards in recognition that you are doing a good job.” Bill’s tone implied that he felt they were doing well and it was his roundabout way of showing praise for his wife and daughter.

“It could also be as incentive to try a little harder. Once we have more clear limits, if you will go over, I can give you one point to do a little bit, or two points to do a lot over the line.” Chris liked that plan. “What if we call them letters. If you can spell WHORE, you get a star. That is basically five points.”

“That is a great idea, Chris!” Bill nodded in agreement, feeling creative with his wife and daughter’s fate for the next week in his hands. “We could make it so each letter relates to a different type of submissive virtue or act. Something like a W stands for working, like when Jamie works for her brother to earn him money and a H stands for humiliation dares, and an O is for obedience ones where you demonstrate who has authority over you.”

“I think I see your point, Dad.” Chris’s creative juices were flowing. Each of the letters in the name is a category of humiliation. Anytime they can completely spell the word “WHORE” they can trade it for one star, but if they have a bunch of W’s and not enough O’s they’ll have to be willing to work on those other things.”

Jamie decided to ask a question. “Can we still just earn stars the normal way, Sirs?” She was listening intently, trying to hide the fact that it felt everyone’s eyes were on her engorged puffy nipples and that they were causing her to have goose bumps up and down her back.

“Yes, Yes. This is in addition to your normal way of earning stars.” He had made an executive decision. “Do we need to work out all the details tonight?” he asked his wife thoughtfully.

She was surprised he was so willing to acknowledge that there had been a problem with his plan, and that it should be adjusted. Her face was joyful, “Oh yes Sir, I think we can muddle through, as long as it is understood we’ll look to the men to amend and clarify the rules?”

“Good, I’ve got an idea what the “R” and the “E” are going to stand for, but I don’t want to write it all down, and I forgot to bring a marker or else I’d write my thoughts on your back.”

“Yes Sir” Wendy could only agree with her husband, sounding serious but secretly pleased she hadn’t created a huge stink about nothing. She was worried Bill would see the red flag family meeting as a challenge to his authority. This was an issue that had been building up inside her for a while.
She wanted limits, not just for Jamie but also for herself. It was much easier to justify them being for Jamie, her feeling as a mother made it easier for her to accept hardships if it meant protecting her daughter. At the same time, she had been quiet many times when she felt maybe they were being expected to do more than they should be. She knew the fair was supposed to ‘push’ her buttons, after all this was a chance to catch up on ten stars if they would accommodate the men as much as possible.

She had a good feeling overall that Bill and Chris would take to heart her pleadings for clarity to the rules. She didn’t really need the affirmation to carry her through to the next dare, but Bill decided to end the family meeting with one anyway.

“Sluts, stand up and get in inspection position one.” Bill announced and his daughter and wife dutifully stood naked bent at the knees. Their practiced position with hands pulling apart their now tattooed ass cheeks behind their backs.

“Do you think we want to see your sour faces, or your asses?” Bill asked the sluts facing him.

In response, they both turned around to face away and display their well-rounded and inked ass cheeks. “Our asses, Sir?”

“Wendy, why do you think that is?”

“Because we are your sluts Sir, and I know, given the choice to seeing my face over my ass, you’d pick the latter.”

Bill actually loved Wendy’s beautiful face. Her high cheekbones, smoldering eyes, expressive lips… she was quite a woman, the picture of health and beauty for a woman at this point in her life. He just felt stroking her ego would make her prideful and his goal was to keep her feeling submissive, desiring his approval. His plan was working on her little by little even if he didn’t have any way to confirm it.

“Do either of my little toys have anything else they want to say in our family meeting, before we begin our affirmations?”

They were both quiet. Bill reached out a foot to kick Wendy in the ass softly.

“No sir, I said everything I wanted to say. I wasn’t sure if my trainers or daughter had anything more to say?”

Jamie took that as a sign it was her turn. “I agree with what my Mom said tonight in every respect. I am so sorry that my behavior tonight seemed to trigger this family meeting. I didn’t realize I was getting robotic in my responses. I’ve just had so much on my mind, I may be over stimulated.”

Chris added with a coy smile, “You have so much on that clit of yours, that you may be over stimulated?”

“That too, Sir.” Jamie realized her playful and immediate answer was further evidence of one of her mom’s points tonight. She was changed by this experience. It would have embarrassed her to no end to have to admit she had stimulation from her clit, and here she was acknowledging it as if it were a zit before prom, a funny little irony.

“I see Mom’s point about leveling things out. I probably come off like a hard ass” Chris spoke up. “That is because I don’t know how I am seen. Sometimes you seem to make me feel like this walking joke, and take my humor seriously. I’ve got to work on taking your training more seriously when I should.”

“No Sir” Wendy answered without a question being put to her. “We have to work on making you feel less like a walking joke. You are as much my owner as my husband is for my training. I’ve not given you that equal respect because of a bias for Bill being my husband and older than you. I am sorry if I made you feel like I didn’t take you seriously Sir. You should be who you are, and I need to work on accepting you for that.”

Chris didn’t have anything to say in response to his mom’s heartfelt words. Wendy couldn’t see his face, but she liked to picture him looking appreciative to what she had to say by his silence.

“You are my pimp, Sir.” Jamie added to her mom’s feelings. “It isn’t easy for me to admit that you get to pick who I date, even with the tattoo on my ass, Sir.” Jamie choked a little before continuing, “Once again, I agree with my mom, the fault lies with us for giving you the impression we aren’t taking your orders seriously.”

Chris hadn’t meant it exactly like they were taking it. He chose that moment to ask his dad, “I’d like to start pimping out Mom, too.”

Bill wished he could see his wife’s face on that bombshell. Chris wasn’t privy to what happened at Rahjids or what was happening at her work every day. If he could see her face, it would have looked like the picture of panic that one finds in the dictionary when looking up the word “Panic”.

“I didn’t have a problem with you sending Jamie out, because that left Wendy home to pamper and amuse us. Do you even know any older guys who would want to rent her?” Bill asked as if they were discussing what to do with an old car in their driveway.

“Gerald said he’d like to take Mom out some times as a change of pace.”

“That would be hilarious!” Bill slapped his knee. “Wendy, did I just see your butthole pucker?” he asked curiously when his laughter subsided.

“Yes Sir, you may have. I was present when Gerald expressed an interest in dating me tonight.” She tried to sound formal in her response, considering this was an affirmation. Her posture was always good, but she tried to carry herself in an almost military like manner when answering the affirmations.

“We’ll work out a schedule, as a way to earn their “W”, but so that we always have a plaything at hand. Is that fair?” Bill asked his son.

“I dunno Dad, some guys may want to go on double dates.”

“Two guys want to take both of them out?” Bill asked.

Chris smiled, “No, one guy rent them both out together”

They laughed and Bill conceded that he was going to think tonight about some safety precautions for these dates. He promised he would also try to brainstorm with his son about how they could work out a reasonable schedule, and a more clear ‘rental agreement’ than Bill’s ‘Seven Rules for Dating His Teenage Daughter” he liked to tell Chris’s friends right before their date.

“Cunt, how do you feel about Chris renting you out?” Bill asked.

“Which cunt are you asking, Sir?” Wendy said after an embarrassing pause which in a roundabout way admitted both her and her daughter were cunts.

“You whore; I already know how Jamie feels about it.” Bill used his foot to prod her ass playfully, causing her to flinch a little at the tap of his foot.

“You said it Sir, the sign on my ass says I am a whore. Jamie and I are in this together. It is only fair that I have to do the same unpleasant work that she does, and earn my keep.” Neglecting to mention her salary was the only thing paying all the bills already.

“Ehnnnt” Bill made a sound like the buzzer on a game show that gives the wrong answer. “Answer a simple question; do you like being your son’s whore?”

Wendy’s asshole puckered.

Bill and Chris laughed.

“I don’t like being a whore, but I am trying to be a good one for you both, Sir.” Wendy answered more diplomatically.

“Ehnnnt, strike two!” from a sitting position, Bill extended his knee to kick Wendy in the ass softly. “The next one is pushing you back into the water. I’ll ask one more time. Do you like being your Son’s whore, and I better hear a good answer.”

“I haven’t been his whore long enough to form an opinion, but no sir, I don’t like being his whore.”

Bill was satisfied with that answer. He may have been secretly hoping she would say she liked it, but he much preferred honest answers. He much preferred the simplicity of her final answer to the other two.

“If you don’t like it, why did you get a tattoo that says you are one?” Bill folded his arms.

“I had no choice in the tattoo design. It was chosen by my son, Sir.” Wendy thought for a moment before continuing “My only choice was whether to get it or not, not only for the stars, but to prove my commitment to seeing this through.” She added that last part to clarify she had been involved in making the decision and wasn’t a helpless victim.

“It’s going to be on that big ass after your time is up, how do you feel about that, Cunt?”

“I can’t say for sure, Sir.” at first her answer being as non-committal as the one about being her son’s whore. “My hope is that it will serve to remind me of the lessons I learned, the fears I faced so that I never repeat the mistakes that led to my training, Sir. I’ll be your whore in bed for the rest of our marriage, hopefully it will be for your eyes only.”

“What about bathing suits?” Bill asked pointedly.

“Don’t remind me, Sir.” Wendy’s asshole did not pucker, but she shivered a little, causing her ass to jiggle. Her reaction still amusing the Taylor men watching her hold her ass open naked.

“Jamie, are you embarrassed to stand there pulling apart your fart machine and piss faucet for me and Dad?” Chris took over the affirmations, focusing on his sister.

“Yes Sir, you literally made me hold myself open and fart in front of you so you can watch how it opens and closes.” Remembering one of his twisted requirements earlier in the week.

“You told me when you were little that girls don’t fart!” Chris smirked.

“I am sorry for being so deceptive, Sir. It is the female’s nature to paint her face, wear padded bras, and deceive about everything from our smell to our height, in how we do our perfume, and wear our heels. Would it amuse you to watch me fart again?” Jamie offered but hoped he wouldn’t take her up on it.

“Gross, no.” Chris covered his nose as if she already had. “Did you mind showing that redneck at the bbq table your painted ass tonight?”

“No Sir, I apologize about that. I’ve grown so used to displaying myself before my betters, that I failed to register the appropriate level of humiliation in the disgusting act. I am becoming more of an extroverted slut, than a repentant one, Sir.”

“Should I make you wear a burka, cover your body from head to foot, so you can’t get the attention you seem to crave?” Chris asked her.

“If you don’t allow me to get complacent and remind me of how naughty my behavior is, I am sure the way you are training me now will continue to work as it has all week, Sir.” She answered him, but added “The choice of what to wear isn’t mine to make. I wear what I am instructed.”

“Why don’t you get that choice, twat?” Chris felt it was his turn to kick at his sister from where he was sitting. He used the tip of his foot to wedge into the back of her knees, to make it slightly more difficult for her to stand up straight.

Jamie tolerated her knees being pushed in from behind to give her answer. “I am a dumb cunt, who only dresses herself for selfish reasons. When it suits me, I dress in cute outfits to get what I want from men, Sir. It isn’t showing them I am a slut or being generous. It is showing them just enough to interest them, but denying men to see me as I truly am that gave me power over them. For as long as I am in training, I defer to the men of the house to make better choices for me.”

“Good answer, cunt.” Chris was smiling as he said it.

“Thank you, Sir.” Jamie’s answer was unexpectedly playful after the more serious answers she gave, the way a student sounds after receiving praise on their test from the teacher.

Bill took back over, “Do you feel like a slimy little worm, who must kiss our asses now, or do we need to keep doing the affirmations, Bitch?” He prompted his wife.

“If you want to continue the affirmations, it helps give me perspective Sir, and I appreciate you spending our fair time to adjust our attitude. Thank you for your time and patience, Sir.” Wendy meant it, even though it was difficult to sound so overjoyed at being called a bitch and a cunt.

“I want to get going, so we can kick your ass with some dares.” Bill admitted. “It’s family fun night, who is ready to get out of here, and have some fun?”

The group answered in a low cheer. They had been talking in hushed voices since they got into the empty ride.

“That was pathetic. Do you cunts want us to have fun playing with you and teasing you?” he asked like a football coach trying to energize his team at the second half.

“Yes Sir!” Wendy and Jamie sounded energized.

“Are you sluts going to give 110% of your ass, tits, and twats, so that the two of us can laugh at you?” Bill was trying to get the energy going.

“Yes Sir!” Wendy and Jamie answered. Wendy was instantly reminded that she had made it a practice in teleconferences when people used the phrase “Give 110%” to make them feel like assholes who just didn’t understand what 100% of effort was. “If you give 110%, you are just underestimating yourself. That IS your 100% and that is all anyone can expect.” She had said only weeks before to some executive who had the misfortune to use that term on one of her productivity calls. She didn’t think now was the time to explain that.

Bill was done with his pep talk. He ordered the sluts to dress so they could get out of the tunnel of love. “Be thankful you get to wear those cum-stained rags!” He reminded them.

As he did, he turned and saw Uncle Creepy, who had apparently been standing behind them the entire time. They had come to the tunnel’s grotto two to a boat. “How IN THE FUCK did you get there?” Bill asked with a surprised but amused expression of the quiet, odd man who had attached himself to the family's fun.

There was no answer. Uncle Creepy just stood there impassively. There was no telling how long he had stood there innocuously observing the family meeting and the girl's affirmations.

“You silent motherfucker.” Chris said aloud with a kind of reverence for Uncle Creepy.

Bill didn’t expect anything less from him. He just smiled at the strange, quiet man, as he directed his wife and Jamie to carry their Corn dog sticks with them and ‘hurry their asses up.

Chris whispered to his dad “You’ve got to tell me what exactly happened while you walked Jamie around the fair?”

Bill smiled conspiratorially and whispered back, “I was wondering the same thing about you and your mom”, as they followed Uncle Creepy out a side door that led out of the ride.