The Family Feud IV

Chapter Fifteen
Wendy’s Journal “Easy cum – Easy go”

STAR COUNT:
WENDY: 51
Get out of jail cards: 1
WHORE: 5,3,0,0,1
JAMIE: 59
Get out of jail cards: 1
WHORE: 4,3,0,0,0

**Note to reader: This is Wendy’s journal from Monday Morning detailing the events after their first (and only) night working at Soft-tails as dancers. In order to increase readability, some of the dialogue exchanged was altered to appear in a ‘narrative’ story format.

I awoke to Chris barking out “RUFF RUFF RUFF! RISE AND SMELL THE PUSSY, ASS FACE” in my daughter’s face (and booming in my ear).

Like almost every night I was tied face to face with my daughter naked and left to sleep on the living room floor. Honestly, I don’t remember being this cruel to the guys but I did make Bill sleep on the floor some nights so I get it.

I actually prefer they tie us up like this because we can snuggle and keep each other warm. I know you might judge me a twisted whore for enjoying being tucked up tightly with my daughters tits pressed to my chest all night but it beats shivering alone or some of the things they do when they don’t tie us together.

He sat over her and gave her a rundown of the new rules while I tried to wake myself up. What I wouldn’t give for a decent shower and a cup of coffee.

“RUFF!” she yipped like a pathetic poodle in response to something he said. I didn’t really have to listen to the new rules but I knew when I caught, “follow the same dumb rules as your daughter” that I needed to sound off with a bark.

“RUFF!” I growled and by Chris’s amused expression and laughter it sounded like I pleased him. He had already leashed us and was walking us outside on all fours by the time I figured out he had said “follow the same rules as your dumb DAUGHTER” and not that the rules were dumb – same difference right?

I guess I am getting a little jaded now that the routine of daily discipline has started to really set in on me. I don’t think Jamie or Chris have noticed how comfortable I seem to have become with this arrangement – but I am getting a little worried that I am. I may grumble and whine but like a little trooper I just roll with whatever new horror the guys come up with day after day.

This morning I was sore, probably from all the laps I rode last night at that bar, and the beating we got at the end. I was also thinking about my neighbor Van’s casually arrogant face with his ray-bans on as he led me back over to the house when he was finished fucking the shit out of me yesterday. He stayed to watch me hang from the ropes in the living room while the guys teased and tormented me.

I have to wonder if he is a sadist or he was just curious or not. I guess it’s going to make things awkward at neighborhood block parties when I bump into him and he remembers me getting my ass reamed while I say what a dumb, lazy cunt I am and thanking my son for doing it to me.

Chris gave us permission to shit and piss – like dogs hiking their side-leg of course. My daughter always just poops a perfectly shaped little turd and pisses in this dainty sort of sweet way.

I dropped two huge disgusting logs and about a half-gallon of acrid piss as I emptied my bladder on our lawn. I felt so gross but Chris declared me once again the champion shitter of the morning. I have to laugh at the things that seem to amuse his devious mind – things that would truly sicken me if I were an outside observer having never lived through this.

However, there is an informal, almost humorous vibe when Chris jokes around like that would take the edge off and adds a little levity to what would otherwise just seem shockingly perverse. Trust me it’s a whole lot funnier in retrospect thinking about it than it was at the time hearing the crinkling and popping coming out of my butt as I tried to keep it off my thighs.

I can’t believe my star count hasn’t moved since last night. Bill promised me that he wouldn’t let me get ahead of Jamie but he didn’t say he would let me fall so far behind her I don’t catch up. I’ve done so many disgusting things “off the books” for him he should give me at least 58 stars so I am neck and neck with my well-meaning but naïve daughter.

When Chris finished timing us he said “Present your asses!” expecting us to kneel so that our faces were flush with the grass and our butts were stuck up in the air spread wide. That wouldn’t be so bad if the grass wasn’t soaking wet from the morning dew and sprinklers.

He did Jamie first and little miss perfect came out squeaky clean, “I didn’t feel any loose turd balls in there so you two won’t be punished – good job.”

He wasted no time making me clean that finger with my mouth and swirling his meaty pointer finger up my backdoor. He didn’t grease it up or work it in, he just slammed it in and given all the anal training I’ve had I barely felt it.

After he finished playing with our asses and making Jamie lick the nasty finger that had been in my behind he said “dogs don’t use toilet paper!”

This was our cue to clean each other. Jamie gave him a more resilient sounding “Ruff” and got behind me licking my pussy before moving up to my dirty sticky ass. I felt bad for her having to taste my sweaty rear-end because Jamie actually doesn’t taste bad at all.

“Don’t you two turn this into something sexual, just clean each other and be done with it.” Chris instructed but let’s be honest that, that twisted motherfucker likes it when I push my crotch into Jamie’s face - He isn’t fooling me.

When it was my turn to clean Jamie she had a sticky-sweet, musky smell that made me feel a little guilty for not being disturbed by what I was doing. I did a fully thorough job of cleaning her only to be interrupted by Chris kinking the garden hose to spritz me with cold water all over.

Why have us clean each other if he is just going to spray us down?

Oh, because my son is a pervert and wants to make his mom and sister eat each other out.

I feel like I am getting jaded because I didn’t mind eating her out as much as I did the fact that he made the entire exercise pointless by washing us down anyway.

When Chris was finished playing around with the hose (and focusing on our tits and asses) he jammed rubber cone shaped butt plugs into our ass – the kind with a tail so they wag when you crawl around.

I wanted to sing “Mooooon Riiivver” like Chevy Chase in that movie where he plays a reporter – I think Chris would get that reference but I was too chicken. I wasn’t sure if he would punish me for not taking it seriously so I just wiggled my butt like a dog wagging her tail for a treat.

“Cow-tits is lucky, she’ll wear hers just until she gets to work but you’ll have yours in all day until it’s time for a shit break.”

Oh gosh, I was the lucky one? My poor daughter – I wish I hadn’t gotten her involved in this.

“Wiggle” and we wiggled at his command.

“Waggle!” and we both smirked and wiggled again.

“You’ll have to work on the difference between wiggle and waggle.” I wasn’t sure what he meant but I could tell he was joking so I giggled and smiled at my daughter. I know she takes a little strength from the fact that we both share this hardship together with a sense of humor at times.

Chris wasn’t kidding about the doggy training – he made us come inside and make the guys breakfast but we were to think of ourselves as ‘dogs’. I tried to be pleasant to Bill but he just said “Doggy’s only bark” and smacked my ass hard.

Bill wiped some of his pre-cum into my hair and made me dip my finger in my pussy and rub some of my juices around my face while he explained that I’d report to Jerry Cooper as my handler today.

I had a feeling this was coming after what happened last weekend but I really have no idea what Jerry is going to do. He is so wishy-washy and sweet that I couldn’t picture him being the conniving bastard that Steve had been. I smiled at my husband as if that was fine but searched his face for some sign of the emotion he wanted to see from me.

I’d have done my best to fake the right emotion if I could figure out what is going on in his head. When Bill was lazy and didn’t think things out as much, he was predictable and much easier to please. Did he expect me to be happy it was Jerry as the boss of me as a reward for a week of service well done? Or was he expecting me to freak out?

Jerry is disturbing because he can be such a needy jellyfish, but he (and his son) already knows that I am a whore and a slut so it’s not like my reputation with them can be salvaged. I had about a hundred questions to ask about how this was supposed to work but they gave us only a few minutes to eat outside – actual dry dog food.

I did my best to munch it down because I was famished but in my mind a piece of me was thinking Chris was having too much fun watching us try to choke this nasty stuff down. How does Rosco do it?

Jamie and I made a game of it and she made me laugh eating it with her fingers. If Chris had caught her I am sure he would have shoved that tail plug even further up her pert little ass.

I wanted to give my daughter a final word of encouragement before she left for the bus but we had only a few minutes to apply makeup and do our hair. I know this much – after this training I won’t need nearly as much time getting ready in the morning. The discipline has really made me re-evaluate what I found to be necessary to get ready for work.

I was racing down the stairs as Chris locked handcuffs around his sister’s wrists and let her carry his books out the door. I don’t know how the kids at school don’t notice that – or maybe they notice and things are so different these days they aren’t as shocked as my generation would have been by it.

Bill picked out my work clothes and let me put on my heels. He handcuffed me as he always does every morning but pushed me out the door completely naked with just a skirt and blouse to drape over myself. He had sent me out with a bath towel but never completely bare-ass.

I half expected to see my neighbor Van outside waving at me but I am sure he was sleeping in this morning- he was not an early riser type.

“RUFF!” I barked defiantly as Bill slammed the door laughing at me – and whispering “you motherfucker” under my breath.

I crouched down in front of our truck in the driveway – correction “Bill’s Truck” since at this point everything is his property including my ass.

There were a few cars passing down our street but I don’t think anyone saw me. I knew better than to get dressed before Jerry had a chance to look me over. Bill would have let me dress if he wanted me to greet him that way.

At least I wasn’t gagged this morning – but then give it time, that will come later. I quickly tapped my morning journal entry into my phone so I don’t lose any of these wonderful Taylor family moments and kept an eye out for Jerry’s jalopy.

Jerry’s green bomber is as unmistakable as Bill’s tacky truck in a suburban neighborhood of Volvo’s and new mini-vans. I watched him pull up and wait for me at the street.

I waved to him to pull into the drive-way – at least Steve will pull all the way in and not make me run through the yard. Jerry stubbornly sat in his car honking as if I was making him late and not picking up on my signal.

I finally bit my lip and made a mad dash for his car. He had to fiddle with the locks to let me in as I desperately looked around for signs of a neighbor catching my bare-ass flitting across the yard and standing next to this POS car.

“Why don’t you have your clothes on?” Jerry asked me when I finally got in. I had to sit on old newspapers and bills in the backseat because Jerry’s car is a total mess (like his life?)

“My husband wanted me to report to you this way in case you wanted to inspect me before giving me permission to get dressed, Sir?” I answered him seriously. I couldn’t be sure if he was asking me to confirm like an affirmation or he just had no idea why I was out there shivering my heiney off in the buff.

“Inspect you like how?” he said while keeping his eyes on the road as I laid in the backseat keeping my head down.

“Check my cunt to make sure I am shaved smooth, pleasant smelling and not wet, check my boobs to make sure they are firm and..” he cut me off and said he got it.

Speaking of tits, my nipples felt like they were going to burst if they didn’t get tugged and twerked. I didn’t say anything about it though as it would only add to my humiliation and make them want to wait longer to let the pressure build up.

“You don’t mind me being your key-holder do you? I mean no hard feelings about it right?” he said like he really expected me to bite his head off for enjoying it.

“No Sir, you are my better and my husband feels you would make an excellent key-holder. Who am I to argue with his wisdom?” I said as submissively as I could.

“You sound kind of sarcastic when you say it like that.” he commented to himself.

Was that a question? Should I respond to that? I had no idea just how frustrating it was going to be to serve this fat lonely man.

“I apologize Sir, I am not trying to belittle you.” I said very seriously.

“See right there, it sounds like something you were forced to say.” he sucked on his lip as he stared at the road. “You high tailed it the other night after I dropped you off at my Ex-wife’s house.”

“That’s because your son had rented me for the evening and he didn’t give me a chance to say goodbye Sir.” a slight embellishment – I just didn’t want to get noticed while he and his ex-wife bickered and end up having both of them turn on me.

“Oh I bet you absolutely loved that didn’t you?” he sounded jealous already.

“Your son was a Gentleman,” I lied, “He took me to watch him play Magic The Gathering and then to Olive Garden for dinner.”

“My son has a more active dating life than me - So much for E-harmony’s guarantee I’ll find someone who matches me on (grumble)” he let his complaining grumble to a low drone that I didn’t hear.

“Sir, if you do not intend to inspect me, may I get dressed?” I asked noticing we were nearing the parking lot of my office building.

“Sure” he shrugged.

I began to think this might be easier than I had imagined given he didn’t seem to be the kind of stickler Steve was.

“Could you give me the key to the handcuffs, Sir?”

“What?” he was preoccupied cursing at cars who cut him off in traffic. I’ve never really understood why negative people curse cars in front of them – it’s not like those people are going to hear and improve their driving.

“Did my husband go over with you my rules and boundaries Sir?” I asked meekly trying to shimmy into my skirt with the cuffs on.

“I think so yes.”

How does he ‘think so?’ either my husband DID or DID NOT go over the rules. Jerry can be so frustrating –maybe this was going to be harder than I thought. I was already missing Steve’s cocksure attitude – if he didn’t know he would make something up.

I had forgotten what an unrelenting curmudgeon he could be as he whined about his sad sack existence. I kept up appearances of trying to sound sympathetic picturing what it must be like to date this poor schmuck. I could picture a girl meeting him through a dating website and meeting for lunch or how long it might take for her to conveniently make an excuse to leave after he brings up his his ex-wife, his unpaid medical bills or one of a dozen things he probably shouldn’t bring up on a first date.

He parked way out in the boonies of the parking lot. He didn’t even bother to look for a closer spot – like Eeyore he seemed resigned to fail at getting closer to the office by luck. He seemed to notice I was judging him or maybe he thought I was curious why he chose this out of the way parking spot on the far side of our building, “This way I always know where I parked my car”.

I have learned a lot about being submissive and making the man feel in charge and better about himself but I have to admit it is trying my patience not to go back to my old habits and give him a few pointers on how to not be such a loser.

I now know my ‘helpful tips’ probably come off as being a nag or a perfectionist. I would not have thought twice about Bill’s feelings if he had done the same thing and frankly I was gaining a new respect for Bill from being around Jerry – Even Bill at his most pathetic, lazy and illogical was Jerry on a good day.

“Handcuffs, Sir?” I said with a helpful smile.

“Yeah Sure” he had a handcuff key on a giant set of keys in his pocket.

“Wow, you sure have a lot of keys?” I commented (but sounding like a question).

“Yeah from old places I lived, and stuff like that”

I had to literally bite down on my tongue to prevent myself from suggesting he toss the keys that he no longer uses. That isn’t my place and despite Jerry being a cross between George Castanza and that guy from Office Space who kept talking about someone taking his stapler I was going to see this through according to the training I had received.

“Thank you so much Sir” I stuffed the cuffs into my purse. This is normally the point when Steve would have insisted I shove a butt plug up my ass but Jerry didn’t think to ask. He seemed more excited to be seen walking in the building with me.

Hey it’s not ‘cheating’ if I don’t tell my key-holder what normally happens is it? Okay, now I am starting to see where Jamie gets her ‘rule-follower’ guilt from when things don’t happen according to the rules even if it’s not in her favor.

I have to admit walking past the security guard in the front lobby without a giant plastic dick stuffed in my holes was a nice treat. He smiled at me as he always does as if he knows all of my dirty little secrets anyway.

Jerry began to take me to accounting “Would you be more comfortable working out of my office, Sir?”

“No this is where my cube is.” He said grunting. He was out of breath –from taking the elevator?

I was going to explain how my office was more private and he could login from my computer –but I noticed something that made everything almost worth it.

Do you remember how at the book store this weekend I bumped into Vicky from work? Of course you do, you are my smart phone and you remember everything. Well anyway I kinda-sorta used a little reverse psychology to let Vicky know that I had picked a handler in Steve and that was going to catapult my career to the next level but under no circumstances should she try it.

I asked her if she had read a phony-balogna career leg-up book I had just made up and naturally she said she had. I would have pretended to have read the latest career book if I had been asked the same question.

Then I told her a handler is an up and coming young MALE executive. An older woman with cougar potential recruits him and helps advance his career. As a male, he can break through the glass ceiling and then he takes you to the top floor with him. The problem is you have to make him feel you are being submissive, stroke his ego, do what he wants.

When I told her I wouldn’t suggest it and the help-book was completely wrong, that sealed the deal. She thought I was simply throwing her off my winning idea.

Vicky had apparently gone to Steve and demanded to do whatever I was doing because I watched him lead her through the cubicles to her Office in a skimpy skirt and top. I know that walk any place –it’s someone trying to walk in heels with a fat dildo up their ass.

I watched her for a long time with a giant smile on my face as I pictured all the things Steve was used to doing with me happening to my office rival. I completely tuned out Jerry who seemed to pouring his heart out to me about his ex-wife and how women had treated him. I could tell as soon as I heard the ‘mmm-hmmmm’ come out of my mouth that it was the sound of a woman who had lost interest in the conversation and apparently Jerry did too.

“You know I could have made it much easier on you if you weren’t such a bitch” he looked at me and furled his brow like an angry frustrated man.

“You think this is easy, sir?” I was standing next to him in a cube in accounting wearing clothes that probably violated the company dress code in seventeen different ways. The fact that I was a senior vice president was probably the only reason no one dared to come up and ask me why I was there and dressed that way.

“What is so hard about it, you are beautiful and everyone is checking out how sexy you are. If I stood there like that people would tell me to go home.” He sounded jealous.

“I guess I can’t argue with that logic, Sir.” in his own way that was a compliment and I would have to spend a little time to wrap my head around a scenario where Jerry would be standing in accounting dressed like a slut.

I stood awkwardly behind him while he logged into his computer and grumbled about emails he was getting. “Don’t they know the flash report of MTD financials comes out on Wednesday? I can’t give this to them on Tuesday.”

A recurring theme seemed to be his growing frustration with people asking him questions that were clearly answered in his e-mail. “If they would just read my e-mails they would know THAT!”

I was looking over his shoulder and I could see he sent a wall of text – button your lip Wendy. This is a good time to catch up on your journal. Try not to be so critical of Jerry – (it’s so hard not to point out his obvious flaws).

He wasn’t really talking to me – so I just ignored him and stood behind him with my cell phone in my hand.

He finally turned to me and asked “So what did you do with Steve all day?”

“Did my husband not go over what you can make me do, Sir?” I answered quietly –very aware that Jerry’s cube offers no privacy from his co-workers. Then again they probably tune out all his belly-aching and whining about how unfair life is and why don’t people read his e-mails.

“Yes he did, but I just thought maybe I would get your perspective” he sounded so weak and uncertain of why he asked that I was starting to feel sympathy for him instead of just disdain.

I leaned in close, “He usually locks me in my office and fucks me hard in all my holes, and then ties me up at my desk about now.” I let my whisper seductively work its way into Jerry’s imagination and blew just a little bit into his ear.

“But you wouldn’t want to do that with me.” Jerry wasn’t asking – he was telling me.

“It doesn’t matter what I want. I am my husband’s whore and he has loaned me to you to be under your supervision all day.” I answered him anyway. He seemed to want a neon light to flash over my head saying “I am willing to pity fuck you Jerry”.

“So you will let me have sex with you in your office?” even his asking seemed like it was telling me that I probably shouldn’t.

“Yes Sir, you are the boss. I will fuck anyone you tell me too.” I probably shouldn’t have volunteered that last bit because the glimmer of hope in his eye went dim.

“So you’d rather have sex with anyone else?” he asked – his jealousy and insecurity was showing and it wasn’t pretty.

“Who I’d rather fuck is irrelevant Sir.” I made a point of saying ‘fuck’ because that was part of the training not to sugar coat it and call it ‘having sex’ or ‘making whoopie’ or any euphemism. I also made it a point to reiterate that my situation required obedience to my betters.

“Why do you keep tugging on your boobs like that?” he asked me curiously. I didn’t realize I had been and I looked down at my shirt. It was sheer and completely inappropriate for office work. At first, I assumed maybe the big hoop rings that were bulging out of the shirt were bugging me. Then I realized that the engorged, aching feeling I had in my boobs was coming from not having been ‘milked’ today and there were two wet spots about the size of a silver dollar over my nipples. You could see all of the little bumps on my areolas because the opaque material of the blouse had turned clear from the leaking milk.

My face turned red and I leaned in closer than normal, “I started lactating recently and probably need to pump some of it out Sir.”

His face lit up “Can you do it in your office?”

“Yes Sir, I suppose you’ll supervise?” he followed me excitedly to the office without a second thought.

He and I stood awkwardly in my office after I locked the door. I was waiting for him to instruct me and he seemed to be waiting for me to tell him what to do. I offered in the least condescending way possible, “Usually Steve has me strip and get on all fours and then squirt over a cup.” I left out a lot of details about things he added to the experience to make it less pleasant.

“Ok” is all he said.

I felt frustrated with Jerry but at the same time I need to count my blessings and not be a glutton for punishment like Jamie can often be - pointing out all the ways they can use and abuse me.

I slipped out of my shoes and began to undress while he stood there watching me. “You can have a seat if you like Sir.” I smiled as I pulled my shirt over my head. I could feel my tits bounce and heave as I removed the skimpy blouse - the nipples were tender and a little bit of milk had already started to seep out.

I got on all fours without making eye contact with him over a milk cup. I was starting to see the advantage of a more active dominant person because I felt incredibly stupid silently pulling on my nipples while he observed.

It felt awkward and stupid – and without as much of the dynamic that someone who was telling me what to do brings to it.

I squeezed thumb and forefinger around each nipple and gave them a tug and jerk like one might do to a cow’s udders and then began the slow process of squirting tiny streams of my breast milk into a glass beneath me.

“What happens to the milk?”

“Sometimes he has me drink it.” I left out the part where after he cums in my mouth and that he usually has me gargle with the cum and milk, rinse and repeat. If Bill hadn’t shared all this with him – was it really my duty to teach him all this?

“Can I drink it?”

“Yes Sir, I don’t mind at all. If you’ll give me about ten minutes down here I will probably have a nice little glass full.” Jerry had seen me naked several times but I didn’t look at him because I think seeing him watch me milk myself would have only heightened my awareness of just how over-the-top humiliating this experience was.

“No I mean, can I drink you know...from the tap?” he said awkwardly.

“You want to try to suckle my tits, Sir?” that was a new one. They had made Jamie do it to me and it actually felt pretty good (I am ashamed to admit).

“Yes, do you mind?”

“Sir, I am on all fours naked tugging my boobs like a cow while you watch,” I needed to get my frustration with Jerry’s passive repetitious questions under control, “No, I wouldn’t mind. Do you want me to sit on your lap?”

“Can I sit on yours?”

Jerry probably weighs 260lbs and while I am pretty fit I was really shocked to hear him say that. I stopped squeezing myself and got in my Office Chair. I instantly imagined what Chris would say about ‘snail trails’ from my wet pussy, that surely would be left on the leather upholstery of my chair.

Jerry crossed the room over to me, hiding what might have been a boner in his beige khakis – I’d like to add that these are the same pants he had on Thursday and Friday last week and I doubt he had washed them.

I leaned back in my chair, “Okay, careful Sir” as he tried to arrange himself over my knee. I could see he was going for sort of a natural position. He didn’t push all his weight on to my knee and instead used part of the chair and desk for support.

“You feel warm.” he smiled.

I don’t know what to say to that. “I guess I am hot blooded.” I cupped my breast and offered it to him without holding his glance.

“Can you take out this piercing?” he asked nicely.

“I am not supposed to Sir, because the hole could heal up very quickly and I would get punished if I get home and couldn’t get it back in.”

He accepted my answer and began to flit his tongue across the thick nub that was being squeezed by the piercings.

“It seems like these piercings are smushing your breasts.” he said while slicking them down with his wet saliva in the most disgusting way I could imagine him doing –with his mouth anyway.

“Yes Sir, the way they are locked in, they pull my nipples up and out so that they are always erect.”

He tapped them with his finger playfully “Like little cocks” and then proceeded to put his mouth around it. I would have laughed at what Freud might have said about someone who said and done that but I just closed my eyes and pretended it was someone else. I felt a little guilty my mind didn’t go immediately to Bill – but I guess that’s what being a whore does to you.

It wasn’t long before he had perfected a technique of gripping the nipple with the edges of his teeth and applying enough suction and then releasing to start suckling the milk out. As he worked the tit in his mouth the other began to slowly drip and leak down my chest and so did my pussy.

How humiliating it is to admit Jerry Cooper from accounting was giving me an orgasm? Then again being naked on leather with my legs spread apart and the pussy ring holding me open counted for a large part of that feeling.

“Would you like to do the other breast too, sir?” I hinted that maybe he could put some attention on the far breast. He ignored me and kept slurping.

“Would you like me to play with myself while you suckle my big tits, Sir?” I was trying to make it sound like he was ordering me to do it – but I won’t kid you journal, I really wanted to play with myself and pull my right tit in conjunction with the attention he gave the left one.

He didn’t respond and when my fingers started to drift down my lap he actively took my hand and pulled it back with a muffled “nuh-uh” to let me know I couldn’t.

Jerry that bastard - I’ve spent two weeks being a slut, a whore and a slave but this is the first time I felt truly like a nymphomaniac who was doing this for her own wicked pleasures only.

I had my arms around his jelly belly in an embrace as he continued to focus on the singular thing he was interested in – draining my left tit of all milk. I accidentally touched something plastic in his waist band.

“Jerry? I mean Sir, is that what I think it is?” I whispered in his ear – In retrospect I want to say that I think I was more turned on by the denial to bring myself to orgasm than one might have actually given me.

He became embarrassed and pulled my finger gently off his belt.

“You can tell me, is it a diaper Jerry?”

He stopped suckling and pulled back with a smack of his lips. “Yes that is a diaper but it is not what you think. It is so I can work longer without getting up from my cube.”

“You wear a diaper to work so you don’t have to leave to go to the bathroom? Doesn’t that start to stink after a while?” I began to wonder if I was treading on thin ice because Jerry’s face started to take on a concerned look.

“Okay Mommy, yes I like diaper fetishes. When I started working part time at the adult mega store I started to learn about all kinds of kink and one day while rewinding a VHS tape we rented I saw it –is that such a big deal?”

“No sir, I won’t judge you.” I was smiling as I offered him my boob. If he could be motivated by this he would probably be a push over at work as my handler. I could probably let him play goo-goo-gaa-gaa fantasies and even get some of my work done for a change.

I could also use the fact I knew about his dirty little secret as a way to hopefully motivate him to keep all of mine!

“Jerry, Mommy wants you to wear just your diaper. Will you do that for mommy?” I spoke to him in baby talk. It felt ridiculous but he went for it like a bear to honey.

“Yes Mommy” his voice became child-like and he quickly removed his shirt and pants revealing a very pink and blubbery but hairless body. I helped him put away his clothes and folded them for him.

“Do you want to play with mommy’s toys?” I offered him my purse and he pulled out a large red rubber butt plug. It was shaped like a small bowling pin except it progressively tapered off in a series of concentric rubber rings.

“What is this mommy?”

“It’s a pacifier, would you like to sit on the floor and be a good boy. If you can play with your Toy quietly while mommy does her work, she will let you have a treat?”

He was fully in-character at this point. Jerry sat on the floor in front of my desk and began to put this booty-plug in his mouth and play around with it. He was drooling down his chin and thumbing his finger in his mouth making airplane sounds.

I didn’t bother putting on clothes I just started to check my email and backlog of projects. I would have to be a miracle worker to pull off catching up on my workload after this training was over. This is one of the reasons I told myself I didn’t like family vacations.

A fact I now deeply regret – because this time in training has taught me so much about my family that I might have learned on a trip to Disneyworld. I made a mental note once we get out of the financial hole we are in to schedule a trip to my family’s farm out in Indiana- a change will do us good.

I noticed one of the e-mails had to do with travel arrangements for this weekend. My husband and I share a Travelocity account and he had cancelled our lodging and travel for this weekend. I remembered talking to him about an Internet discussion group that he belongs to that gets together periodically to meet face to face. I knew this was very important to him and it made me feel pretty bad that he had cancelled his trip.

I will be very honest that had this arrangement not come up with us I would never have gone and neither would Jamie - our lives were too focused on our own thing. I don’t know what Chris would have done but I doubt he would have wanted to go either.

I am absolutely positive I would have forbid him to go if I were still the boss of the house. I let myself drift away in my imagination to relive just a few seconds of what it was like when I used to be the head-honcho around the house. I have to admit the power really was intoxicating.

I didn’t have a chance to start feeling guilty like I usually do when I go over all the stuff I would’ve done again and wouldn’t have.

There was a knock on my door.

By now most everyone in my department who worked for me knew I wasn’t taking their questions or meeting with them. “I am in a conference call, can you put some time on my calendar” I said in a voice that sounded like I had just put my call on mute. I had blocked off every hour of my day for the next two weeks just in case anyone tried to schedule a meeting.

“No, I can’t. I want to talk to you right now.” Dammit – it was Vicky and she was not happy.

“I am sorry, I am really bus” I was half-way through the sentence when the door started to jiggle as it unlocked. I was completely busted – there was no way I had time to dress.

The door opened and Vicky strode in with Steve behind him.

“Well, hello there Vicky,” I smiled knowing I had been busted. “do you mind shutting the door?”

Jerry reverted back to his regular curmudgeon persona – frankly I like the little kid version of Jerry. He seemed much more carefree and positive. He gathered his clothes like a crab digging in the sand.

I didn’t bother to try to dress because I knew that it wouldn’t change anything. I sat up, crossed my knee and acted as if this were the most perfectly normal office meeting.

“I think you have some explaining to do.” Vicky was still dressed like a slut but her hands on her hip and attitude hadn’t diminished any of her bitchy attitude.

“About?” I rested my chin on my hands like I hadn’t the foggiest notion what they were talking about.

“Slut, I think you need to get out of that chair and get those plugs up that fat ass of yours when your betters are talking to you.” Steve ordered me in his calm but certain voice.

“I am sorry Sir, but my husband put Jerry in charge of me. He said I don’t have to obey you anymore.”

“Jerry, let me be in charge of Wendy.” Steve said matter-of-factly to Jerry.

“Okay, that’s fine” Jerry was climbing into his pants.

Damn that Jerry!

I’ve been Steve’s slut for a week. It won’t kill me to let him see me squirm around on the floor a little more. The part that was eating me up inside was Vicky’s part in all this.

I quickly ran through a dozen scenarios:

- I contact Bill to ask if I didn’t have to take orders from Steve and how bad the punishments would be if I refused.

- I ran through a scenario where I begged and promised Bill that he could strip me of all my stars if I didn’t have to do this in front of Vicky.

- I briefly flirted with the idea of grabbing some clothes and just running for a boat and getting on it.

“Yes Sir, of course you are right. That is where I belong.” I heard myself say as I got off the chair and picked up the red rubber butt plug Jerry had been playing with and inserted it in my ass – without wiping off his slobber I might add.

Jerry asked if he could go when he had his clothes back on but both Vicky and Steve forbid him and he just stayed seated in a chair off to the side watching. I slunk over to a big flesh-colored dildo and pushed it into my pussy and then took a position facing away from them on the floor – as Steve preferred.

“Your slut is stuffed and spread Sir, may I gag myself?”

“Nice try slut, how about you tell us what you tried to pull on us?” Vicky’s voice was full of vinegar.

“I didn’t try to pull anything on STEVE.” I clarified that my target had been Vicky. There was no point in continuing to play coy. “I admit I was probably a stinker for telling you NOT to ask him to be your handler, knowing that is exactly what you would rush right out and do. I knew I would be given to Jerry today so I was just lining up a replacement for Steve because he was so good to me.”

“Likely story” Steve reached out and smacked my ass cheeks extra hard. Then he nudged me forward, “Clean those snail trails off that chair. You know better than to sit that naked ass cheese on a chair.”

I moved forward slowly and licked my chair while Vicky lambasted me about her morning. I wasn’t the least bit sympathetic.

Steve had actually been fairly light on her – he tied her up and fucked her in her office while shifting his office work to her and taking credit for her projects by subtly adding his name to the work.

“So tell me the truth Vicky – had Steve not tried to be so obvious about getting credit for your work, you probably would have let him keep fucking you hard, wouldn’t you?”

“Shut up whore” the shoe that kicked me in the ass was definitely a high heel and hers.

I said nothing and then she kicked me again “Well?”

“You ordered me to shut up, Ma’am.” I explained trying to keep the snark off my face. I was in deep and I don’t mean deep doo-doo like a Jamie poop - I mean deep doo-doo like one of my big old lawn turds. I was already surging with the fear-induced adrenalin of concentrated humiliation that felt worse than the first time Mrs. Waxerman caught wind of our shenanigans. Was the best medicine to just roll with it and try to have fun with it? Could I do that without Chris’s wise cracks, Jamie’s support and Bill’s serious straight face?

I knew she wanted me to talk and talk I did. I explained how I had noticed Vicky slowly experimenting with the way I was dressing and acting and it amused me. “It had been my luck to run into you when I was in the book store getting fucked by a bunch of guys. I decided to lay out the cheese and let you come to Steve and beg to have him treat you like this.”

Even with my butt to her I could sense her rage radiating from her as she realized that she had walked right into it.

“Would you like to spank me, ma’am?” I wiggled my ass for her. There wasn’t anything her arm could dish out that I couldn’t take after the daily beatings I had received. I felt the act of pretending I was looking forward to it was only going to take some of the wind out of her sails. She came around the side of me and pulled my hands forward while slapping my cuffs around my wrist and wrapping the chain around the base of the chair. I could feel Wendy pinch my pussy lips and tug them hard – before letting them go like a sling shot.

I would have to get used to this torment – but then there was a sudden reprieve as everyone became quiet.

The phone on my desk rang and Steve answered it. He spoke briefly and I distinctly heard him joke that I was a ‘little tied up at the moment’. I then heard him answer, “Yes sir, I’ll put it on speaker right now so you can talk to her.” He hadn’t let me talk to the last person – so whoever this was they had to be important enough to interrupt their twisted revenge games.

The voice on the speaker phone was the CEO “Wendy Taylor, are you there?”

I quickly answered in the most professional sounding manner that I could muster. “The quality of work you’ve been turning in with some young executive Steve Something-or-other, it’s been abysmal. I was just in an investor meeting and it was as if a simpleton had put it together.”

Steve was handsome, he had swagger and confidence and looked great in a suit – but he wasn’t particular good at business analysis. I knew it was a mistake letting him turn in work and put my name on it.

There was another long pause and finally I heard our CEO’s voice say angrily, “Wendy, I’ve been happy with your performance over the years and had actually been considering giving you the Bitterman account. But your recent behavior is totally unacceptable. As much as I hate to do this, I cannot allow you to be employed here any longer.” The phone went dead at that point and there was another long pause as what I had heard sank in. I had just been fired. No advance notice, no warning, just summarily dismissed after years of faithful service.

I could hear Steve and Vicky chuckling – had she put him up to turning in work with my name on it? Had they both played me all along? Maybe I was supposed to just think that Vicky had been copying me all week and that she went to Steve this morning and asked him to be her handler. They could have been in collusion from the very start to take me down!

Could I just be paranoid? Or did they seem like they had been working as a team from the very start? If so – then Vicky well played – well played.

When Steve hung up the phone, I looked at the chains binding me to the chair and dejectedly added, “You know you don’t have to bind me Sir. If you order me to hold my position I will stay spread and ready for you.”

“That’s good to know that you are such a loyal slut, shake your ass for me.” I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t crying right now. I had just lost my job and the sole source of income for the family. I wasn’t even thinking about the repercussions of that fact yet. I did a little wiggle and a little waggle thinking I was doing it for Steve and Vicky. That is until I heard the first nervous giggling that wasn’t Jerry. I don’t know how they opened my door without me hearing but when I finally turned my head to look behind me there was standing room only in my office as I scanned about a dozen people holding their cell phone cameras recording my performance.

If I hadn’t just been fired – I would have been super-fired for this little scene.

I would have been so thankful for the super power to teleport, turn invisible or just pass out on command. I’d wake up at some time in the future when this horrible waking nightmare was no longer happening. I could tell from their open laughter that I had not been successful in hiding the shocked double-take I did when I realized they were there.

I literally felt my asshole pucker around the buttplug as my sphincter tightened around it in a vice like grip.

I wanted to say “You know I love an audience, who would like to fuck me first?” and smoothly begin to gyrate but I began to panic and struggle - Vicky’s laugh was the loudest over them all.

“I am looking forward to having your office. You want us to untie you before security gets here or are you looking forward to a sexy cavity search?” Vicky’s tone was beyond anything even that little witch Delilah could have summoned up - It was like a wave of liquid scorn washing over me like a painful acid wash.

“Please yes, I would like very much to be untied Ma’am,” I stammered. My jaw had started to hurt as my teeth began to involuntarily chatter. I maintained the protocol while she uncuffed me and gave my butt a hard spank. “That must be jam, because jelly doesn’t shake like that.”

I could distinctly hear her tell people to erase that part off their cell phones as I dashed out of my former office clutching my clothes and shoes. I am probably one of the few people to ever actually jaunt naked through the cubicles at their office – although I am sure a lot of people have had that dream.

Let me tell you the reality is a lot worse than the dream – especially if you have big fat milky tits bouncing up and down as you try like hell to find some place to hide.

I probably won’t do justice to the dodging and weaving between cubicles and filing cabinets as I fled my former co-workers. I don’t know why I didn’t just calmly walk out – they already seen me in the most humiliating ways. All I can say is in the moment the adrenalin of the situation prompted something primal in the fight-or-flight wiring of my brain and it was flight all the way.

I made it to the elevator without a second thought for snow globes, and personal affects, certificates of accomplishment or even my final paycheck – I was done with this place. Bill could roast me like a chestnut over an open fire before I set foot back here again.

The knowledge that I would probably never see these people again actually gave me a little bit of a respite from the waves of humiliation wafting over me. I don’t know if it was endorphins giving me a false euphoric feeling of release or real but I simply stood in the elevator waiting for one of the doors to open.

I hadn’t even removed the red butt plug or dildo that I had clenched in my holes all the way to the elevator. I just stood there like a naked fool as I remembered the years I spent carving out a career, building respect and how in the span of a few minutes I had just shit that out like two big donkey-sized turds on my lawn.

I was reaching behind me to pull the plug out of my ass when the elevator door opened.

Karma can be a real bitch. It was Mr. Bitterman one of the wealthiest clients that my firm handles – he must have just been leaving that big investor meeting the CEO was talking about. I’ve only ever seen him once before at a meeting a year ago. The account handling his business is one that Vicky and I have both desired for years as it comes with a great deal of prestige and the possibility of promotion within the company.

“Okay, I appear to be on the wrong floor,” He shook his head in disbelief when he saw me standing there in my birthday suit. He seemed like a down to earth old man wearing a very ill-fitting suit. He smiled and held the door for me “Going down?”

I took my hand away from my ass and started to explain but no words were coming out.

I could hear the throng of office workers closing in on my position – no doubt with cell phone cameras waving around to catch a glimpse of the crazy lady who just lost her mind and ran through the office naked.

I stepped into the elevator with him and he closed the door.

“Do you mind putting on your clothes before we get to the bottom?” he held the elevator in position.

“Yes Sir, but I should probably remove some things first.” I sounded pathetic as the latex flesh-colored dong slipped out of my pussy and hit the floor making a sloshy-ker-thudd sound. I smiled at him apologetically.

“I assume there is some colorful story behind all this?” he seemed bemused by my state.

I felt really bad about pulling the butt plug from my ass, especially because once it’s all the way out it really looks huge. It also had just a smidge of brown on it from my rear-axle grease if you know what I mean and I think you do.

I quickly put the clothes and shoes on and held on to the dildo and butt plug. I tried to fix my hair and get presentable while I told him, “You ever have one of THOSE days, Sir?”

“No, I can’t say I’ve had one of THESE days, but I thank you for giving me something memorable for once in the seventeen years I’ve been coming to this place.” He chuckled.

“Could I trouble you for a ride home? I am afraid that the person I carpooled with today probably isn’t going to give me a lift home.”

He had a kind face and he laughed, “Sure if you don’t mind riding in a pickup truck.”

“I ride in the back of one all the time.” I smiled reassuringly as the elevator at the bottom opened.

“Then you’ll love this, you can ride up front with me. I even have air conditioning and everything.” he was smiling and being affable with me.

The security guard walked towards me but noticing Mr. Bitterman he stepped back. “It’s quite alright, the girl is with me.”

“Oh yes Mr. Bitterman but,” the security guard started to offer protest but was cut off.

“Son, you are just a rent-a-cop, don’t try and detain me or you’ll find yourself on the way out like this young lady. She has asked me to escort her home and that is what I intend to do. Do we have a problem?” he was a simple man but one accustomed to getting what he wanted.

His old white truck was in the very first parking space when you exit the main lobby of our building. I have to admit I almost got in the back of the truck out of habit.

I held on to the two toys and gave him directions to my house.

“I am afraid I don’t have a GPS or anything like that, so you’ll have to give me directions on the way.” He seemed amused with the fact that I didn’t expect him to travel this way.

“With a name like Bitterman, people think you talk with an English accent and drive around in a rolls Royce trying to put Grey Poupon mustard on everything.” He joked as he worked the clutch and manually shifted gears. “I don’t need any of those things. I prefer the simple country life. This truck gets me where I want to go. It aint pretty to look at but it’s reliable.”

I said nothing and nodded except to give him the occasional direction.

“I don’t suppose you are ever gonna tell me why you were in your birthday suit back there are you?” he finally asked the question I knew he had to be wondering.

“You are just such a nice man, and my story is so complicated that I don’t think you would ever understand it, Sir.”

“Try me.”

He pulled over at a coffee shop – not a Starbucks but one of those old timey ones that sell a ‘cup of joe’ and a donut. The guy behind the counter recognized him and we sat a table.

“Where to start Sir?”

“Well first, even my trust fund grandchildren can’t call me Sir, so you call me Walt.” I didn’t argue with that. He had my respect in so many ways that the tone I used alone would be obvious I meant “Sir” when I said “Walt”.

That was when I first began to outline this entire story. I described how I had tried to introduce the “Taylor Women’s declaration of Independence” because my husband and son were lazy and needed prodding to do anything around the house.

He was a great listener – stopping only to offer that his trust fund grandchildren sound an awful lot like that too.

I told him about how Chris and Bill had thrown a hissy and ended up leaving for a while. When they came back life had handed them a reality check. They came home in the pouring rain like a metaphor of their miserable experience and what was probably an innocent misunderstanding led to them thinking when I said there would be changes that they needed to strip.

“You probably told them to strip out of those wet clothes, and they thought you meant strip it all off.” He had heard how Bill had been caught red-handed with the pictures of Jamie’s friends and said he could see how that might of happened.

“If it was an accident, I could have stopped it right then and told them to put on clothes. Instead, I started to lay down the rules and get bossy in order to try to get them to lose weight and work harder around the house. I started out with the best of intentions.”

“Don’t we all” he mused.

“I was disgusted with how they were and felt this was like tough love. I have to admit I started to slowly escalate and get off on the power and control over their lives.”

“I’ve been a CEO for a long time, Darling. It gets old after a while, but that is a long while coming.” Everything he said sounding like a page out of an advice book.

I told him how I recruited Jamie to help me.

“From what you told me about her, she sounds like a mini-version of you. It makes sense that you wanted her help. She was re-affirming the things you were doing were making sense and she was sort of your co-conspirator in this.”

“Partners in crime.” I used a description of our relationship from the past.

We sipped coffee through my description of my power trip on the guys. He didn’t flinch when I told him I laughed at their naked bellies flapping when I made them do exercises and I tied their cocks together.

“You were removing their power as men by desexualizing them. A virile man who is full of testosterone wants to dominate and control – you were making them docile by making them masturbate frequently and humbling them.”

It was effortless to describe it all – He seemed to like the story about Cathy Griffin and pressed me for details.

“It sounds like that was a real turning point for Chris. He slept-walked through most of this ordeal, until his sister abandoned him with Cathy and made him run around all day.” Mr. Bitterman sounded very sure of himself – but then he always did.

I hadn’t thought about it quite like that but he was right. Things became far more kinky after that day. Later that night when Cathy dropped off Chris, she saw the pictures Bill had taken of her friends on our computer. I had been making Bill masturbate to them to shame him.

“Naturally, you were basically castrating his manhood in a metaphorical fashion.”

I really was a bitch, huh?

I explained how Cathy thought that we had intended to blackmail her with those pictures and in a blind panic ran to her older brothers to plot some things of their own.

I have to admit while I told the story and reflected on it – it took my mind off all the events of the day. I had just flushed a lucrative career and my chances of getting another job like it.

In my final act of total hubris I threw a party for teenagers where I knew there would be alcohol. I wouldn’t have even done it if not for the fact I wanted to make Chris and Bill humiliated by bartending in speedo bikinis. I was a teenager myself and had done some drinking at parties like that – I knew it was sort of a rite of passage into adulthood.

“I was able to justify having Bill spend money to buy booze and throw the party just to humiliate my husband.”

Walt withheld judgment and sipped his coffee. I warned him this was a long story and he told me it was the highlight of his week and to please continue.

I don’t know why I felt it was any of his business but it was nice to have an ear to tell my story to someone who seemed to enjoy all the nuances and enjoyed listening to it.

I told him how Cathy and her brothers had engineered it so my daughter would wreck my convertible and then be on hand to trick her into walking away without reporting the accident. They held the note on my mortgage and tried to blackmail us both.

“It sounds like they didn’t have too,” he smiled at me knowingly. “You wanted to be stopped. A part of you felt so guilty about what you were doing you wanted to be punished for it.”

It was like he was reading my mind because I explained that Jamie and I agreed to be good sports and give the guys payback. We put on some skimpy bathing suits and passed out beers at the party of our own freewill.

The next day Bill sat down and got organized for the first time in a long time. He put together “Bill’s Bill” a collection of rules and beliefs and laid them out for us. I explained about the 100 stars we had to earn and how because we liked to exercise and be fit that the challenges weren’t going to mirror the same goals we gave them.

“It makes sense, and you and your daughter don’t value what men like, so jiggling boobs and butts probably didn’t turn you on the way they do a man.”

I nodded in agreement and explained how skeptical and unsure we were.

“Of course you were, you are the type of person who over analyzes everything and slices and dices every which-a-way. Bill knew you pretty well because he included measurable goals and consequences for poor performance.”

In a matter of seconds he had summed me up pretty well. I told him how Bill had been the breadwinner initially while I worked my way through college.

“Then you said hey if I can just get my career started I will have time to sit back and deal with family stuff later – before you knew it you had two kids and an active career and you were so wrapped up in climbing the ladder you didn’t stop.”

“Is that what you did, Walt?” he appeared to have a perfect vision of how I was balancing being ‘super mom’ and career woman.

“Oh no, I made my money the old fashioned way - I inherited it.” he laughed as he took another drink of coffee.

I told him about how Bill had found someone to watch over me at work and I was quite sure that Mr. Bitterman wanted details there. I was going to take the high road and leave Steve and Vicky out of this but I couldn’t resist mentioning their part in my humiliation.

I told him my theory that Vicky and Steve might have been working at this together from the very start. There was a time when Vicky just ‘happened’ to be in the shower when I was there and then she just happened to be shopping at the book store when I was there – but how would Steve have known I’d be at the book store? I would have to puzzle on that for some time to come.

Mr. Bitterman considered what I told him and said “Well if that were true – she really committed to it. I think I saw the young lady you are talking about trying to get me to look at some of the work she had been doing as a proposal on diversifying my account. I couldn’t take my eyes off the piercings poking through her shirt. I just assumed this was a new fad at your office when I saw yours.” He laughed.

I hate feeling paranoid and the question of just when or if Steve and Vicky had a partnership is going to bug me for a while. I like stories where the author tells you exactly what happened and doesn’t make you use your imagination to fill in the blanks. Bill had wanted me to watch the TV series Lost with him about a year ago. I ended up buying the series for him to watch by himself because I just didn’t want to wait for them to fill in the blanks later and they like to make their audience gather clues and circle back to answer a question they raised at the start of the series in a future season.

I continued my story for Mr. Bitterman hitting the highlights about going back to the motel and hooking and how things had just gotten out of hand so fast.

“You hadn’t established any limits to the relationship and you both were playing it by the seats of your pants. I bet Bill was just surprised that you were willing to do anything you could to make it up to him – but I wouldn’t be. You are that type of woman.”

He seemed very interested in Mrs. Waxerman and joked, “Sounds like an interesting woman.”

I told him about the crazy night at the county fair and how we had grown to know each other so much better.

“You were seeing things you wanted to see in Bill and Chris all along. You were pleased he was taking charge, getting organized but more importantly that he exuded confidence and was making rational decisions. You wanted to see more of that.”

I told him that the tattoos were probably a sign that both Jamie and I may have on a subconscious level wanted that.

“I don’t know Jamie, but I am guessing her reason was a little different than yours. I think she was still learning who she was and was afraid she could only be defined as a goody-two-shoes who only ever did cheerleading and all the stuff people expect a girl like her to do. I think she also just wanted to finally bond with you in a way that would last forever.”

That was so sweet I could barely talk after that. He had hit the nail on the head. I told him that as crazy as it sounds, that we have learned so much about each other and how we all felt we had missed out on vacations and trips together as a family.

“You should take a vacation together!” he said emphatically.

“Things are tough right now, Walt.” I went into the shopping sprees and my cowardice about bringing up to Bill all the money that we needed to have. I could tell he was getting a little guarded as if I was going to hit him up for money - I reassured him that wasn’t my intention.

“Miss, if I thought you stood naked in that elevator lobby on the off-chance I opened the door in order to come with me to give me a sob story to sucker money out of me I would never have let you in my truck.” He grinned.

I skipped a lot of the details about all of the training but we kept coming back to Bill’s internet user’s group meeting this weekend.

“If I were a betting man, and I am – I would bet that you are going to go to that thing with him and you just haven’t convinced him yet that he needs to take you as a family.”

“Yeah but if we go with him – it is going to be as his slaves because we haven’t earned the 100 stars.”

“I am going to only say this one time and I want you to listen to me very carefully.” He spoke with a slow southern charm of a man who had learned about as much as a man could learn about life and eagerly looked forward to each day to learn a little bit more.

He had me on the edge of my seat.

“You have earned your one hundred stars, darling.” I didn’t understand him and he could tell from the look on my face I was going to point out I was trailing my daughter.

“The things you have done – the experiences you have shared have impressed Bill and Chris. They know you love them and they know you have endured this for them. They also know that a part of you wants this very strange relationship with them to continue.”

I was going to tell him that my daughter probably didn’t. He hushed me.

“I am a shrewd judge of character. If I had met you a few months ago I would not let you go anywhere near my account. The woman at this coffee table – I would be proud to let you manage my account because you have learned what is important in life and you are willing to give a little to get a lot. You sacrifice for others, but you aren’t stupid about it – they better be worth it.”

He was making me tear up. I swear that man should write for lifetime movies because I don’t know a woman who could have listened to him talk and not feel a little maternal stir in her heart.

“Your daughter is in this until you finish it – just like your deal with Bill to leave you in it until you finish it? It is as obvious to me as the smile on your face that your daughter’s apple didn’t fall too far from your lovely tree. I don’t know why you would have a hard time figuring it out. If you were willing to stay until it’s all done – she would be too.”

“Yeah but didn’t you say we already earn our one hundred stars?” I didn’t know what he meant by that.

He laughed, “This is all extra credit. You paid those fellas back and gave them more than they ever gave you. I am not going to tell you what to do. You are going to go home and think about what I’ve told you and I think you are going to come to understand what I am talking about.”

He didn’t say another word about it or ask me another question until we left the diner and were almost home.

“So you don’t think what I was doing was perverted?”

“Oh darling, it’s deeply perverted.” I was shocked. He had been so accepting and calm when I told him about all the blowjobs and bondage. “Whoever said being perverted was bad though?”

He pulled up to my drive way and as I stepped out of the truck I turned back to ask him if he wanted to take me inside to explain what happened but he drove off without another word.

I would have to spend a lot of time thinking about all the advice he gave me – some of it I wish I had written down when he said it because even as I journal it now I didn’t capture it all.

One little thing had been bothering me all the way home and I finally got a chance to clean off that little smidge of brown pudding on the side of my butt plug now that Walt was out of sight.

I sighed and collected my nerves. I was going to have to face Bill and Chris and explain our only income was gone now that I was fired. They were definitely going to punish the shit out of me.

Why was I smiling?