The Family Feud IV

Chapter Forty Nine
Exodus – The Final Chapter

"My one regret in life is that I am not someone else."

~Woody Allen

**Note to reader: The final narrator of this story is Mort Goldman.

Mort is a very fearful man who is best described as middle-aged despite being only thirty-six years old. He is balding and has very curly red hair.

I could write chapter after chapter of what continued to happen to the Taylor family. It was truly a labor of love. I would love one day to return to this story and elaborate in more detail because there was so much mental imagery and detail I wish to share but present circumstances don’t permit it.

I will share with you what I can and perhaps someone else can take up the mantle of story teller.

That Thursday at my house after we punished Cow Tits they made me an ‘honorary key holder’. They joked that the house would be gone soon but that the key was a metaphor and I was now an authority figure in Wendy and Jamie’s life.

I thanked them for the privilege and trust and wondered how I would keep this a secret from my own wife.

“You can fuck my wife or daughter any time you want, you can punish them for minor transgressions and give them immediate orders to keep them in line.” Bill said.

We had punished his wife almost until their house sale began. We had let her eat a blintz after she masturbated herself with it and thanked us all for it and then Chris squeezed the cheese out of one into her hair and made her return home wearing only that, her high heels and dog collar.

I lived just next door and I admit it was fun to watch her big tits bounce while she ran to her own about to be foreclosed upon house while she clung to what little dignity she had by not being completely naked in public.

I had come to understand from her story about how she put Bill and Chris through hell and that she deeply regretted doing it – and I suspected that at times Bill and Chris regretted doing this to her but had found that she needed it for some reason.

We took our time walking over to the house and when we opened the door Wendy was kneeling naked in front of two envelopes. One was marked Cow Tits and was open and the other was marked “Ass Face” and remained sealed.

“Did I tell you to open those yet?” Bill asked his wife.

“No you didn’t but since it was addressed to me I thought I would, Sir. I am sorry, I didn’t know I was supposed to wait to open it?” Wendy seemed lost in thought. I had come to realize that Wendy is the type of woman who processes a thousand thoughts at a time and seldom has peaceful moments of tranquility- she punished herself mentally far more than the humiliation and pain of what I thought up at my place.

“What does it say?” Bill asked without hesitation.

“I think it is from Doctor Hooker,” She said and Bill confirmed it. I had met the English professor a few times in the past and knew of him.

Don’t pray for lighter burdens, pray for stronger backs.

Mrs. Taylor your journey really delights me. I don’t take joy in your

Misery as much as I think you should.

I think you should savor the adventure you are on – embrace it.

It is a once in a lifetime change that you’ve already begun.

Love knows no limit to its endurance, no end to its trust, no fading of its hope; it can outlast anything. Love still stands when all else has fallen. You love your family – your husband, son and daughter – and your commitment to seeing this through is proof.

All of them know it would be easy for you to carry only the burden you are strong enough to carry. You go beyond and carry the one you are not.

I understand today you are selling everything of value to you and losing everything you valued.

Keep in mind, I say ‘thing’ you valued, not every person.

You aren’t the kind of person to ever lose them.

~Doctor J. Hooker. PH.d

She had a tear rolling down her eye as she considered his words.

Bill let her cry and ordered her to return the lemon to her asshole. “I should make you put an ice cube up your ass, to remind of how cold you were when you were in charge - Make your ass as cold as your heart.” He suggested.

“Can I go get an ice cube and shove it up my ass, Sir?” Wendy said with total obedience.

“No, you can go kneel by the door and open it for anyone who comes. You will greet them pleasantly and show them in. You will inform them that everything is for sell but they will have to discuss prices with your son or husband.”

I had nothing else of importance today so I decided to just blend in to the surroundings and observe- I was good at that.

I started to pour myself a cup of coffee but Chris told me “You’d better not drink that”. I didn’t inquire why but I later learned that Wendy had among other things pissed in it and spit cum back into it before drinking it herself.

Neighbors began to show up in small numbers. It was after all a work day and many of them could not be there. It was obvious many of them already knew about Wendy’s position in the family and were here to gawk and giggle at her.

She would show them in with a friendly smile and tell them to look around and tell them that everything was for sale –even when they looked at her with total disdain. Then she would return to the front door where she kneeled right beside it – with her legs well apart and her knees touching the carpet.

A few people bought toasters and minor appliances but no one seemed to be interested in the big ticket items. Bill was ready to sell his refrigerator if someone would make him an offer.

Eventually a woman I came to learn was named “Vicky” – a former co-worker of hers who had cost Wendy her job and house showed up. She was talking on her cell phone as if she could only half pay attention but it was obvious she delighted in Wendy being on the floor when she got there.

“Nice to see you again Wendy,” Vicky lorded her words over Cow tits while she stood over her and gloated.

“Yes Ma’am, thank you for your interest in our belongings,” Wendy didn’t seem to let it phase it her – she treated her the same way she did every other catty soccer mom type who had come to see her fall from grace for herself.

“Oh I have no interest in this crap. I was thinking of just donating it to goodwill for the tax write off,” Vicky smirked in response.

“Just as well Ma’am, then it can be put to use by families who are doing without and can appreciate it,” I wondered if Wendy harbored the fantasy she could buy some of her things back eventually if it went to charity. I looked around her well-furnished home and realized that it had twenty years of memories on the walls in pictures – these things had meant a lot to her at one time.

“Hmm, maybe I’ll just have it destroyed then, is your hubby home? Oh don’t get up, I’ll find him, toodles!” Vicky rubbed Wendy’s nose in her lack of freedom and went to the kitchen.

Bill offered her a cup of coffee and told her to sit down.

Chris and I smiled.

I won’t go into detail here – but after she had a long drink of it, Bill told her what it was and what she was and let her stew for a long time before throwing her out of ‘What was still his house’ to an appreciative Wendy and Chris as audience.

That day they sold just about everything that wasn’t nailed down to someone – but Vicky would not be one of the buyers. Bill’s pride had cost them some easy sales and I would only later learn how badly they needed the money and why Bill chose to stand up for his wife even though he treated her like a slut all the other times.

There was an unspoken respect – consideration of Wendy and her daughter’s strength. It seems Bill had even felt bad for them and tried to release them from their service before their original agreement was up – but they stuck with it. They had told him they needed to be kept in line to keep hooking or else they’d get lazy or scared or back out.

They were feeding off the men’s strength and authority by taking charge and the more they felt they had little recourse but to obey – the easier it was to obey. That is one way to put it simply.

As an example, that afternoon Bill had made his wife sell her clothes to their neighbor Van Pewterschmidt but I suspected he had seen her naked many times before and was just enjoying buying them in front of some of the other neighbors who hadn’t.

“You want to buy my wife’s clothes she has on right now?” Bill pretended to be confused and offended.

“Yes, that is what I want to do” the neighbor smiled back. They were playing this charade for the six or seven neighbors who were watching them haggle.

“Okay, everything except the dog collar and the high heels, four dollars” they finally shook on it. Then he looked at his wife who smiled and stood up to begin neatly undressing.

Wendy looked at a woman who she obviously knew from some community function and advised, “Oh, don’t be so shocked, we said everything must go, Ma’am. You might want to take your son home though.”

The woman quickly shuffled her young teenage son out before he saw more than Wendy’s bare naked breasts.

She walked across her living room naked and graciously handed the neat pile to Mr. Van Pewterschmidt and said “Thank you for you buying these clothes, Sir - A souvenir?”

“I thought I saw the Waxerman girl wearing them earlier, I just thought I’d return them.” He smiled politely “what about the butt plug?” he asked.

“That is my wife’s lunch sir, it is not for sale.” Bill acted like it was a perfectly reasonable request but that he was affronted it would be asked.

“Should I put on something else to model for sale, Sir?” Wendy asked her husband without covering herself in the least or trying to hide the fact everyone had seen the yellow fruit perched into her tuchus.

“No, you prideful slut. Just start loading the Miller’s car with your kitchen chairs and end table.” Bill commanded. “You can take the lemon out after you’re done and suck half of it then and half of it tonight.”

She looked at him as if he was serious that she was to walk outside completely naked in broad daylight and load up the chairs.

“Are you hesitating because you want to turn the chairs upside down and sit your cunt on the chair legs one last time, or are you hesitating because you think no one in the neighborhood hasn’t already seen your fat ass naked?” Bill asked her in front of the neighbors.

The Miller family seemed particularly amused. Buddy Miller owned a successful car dealership but I got the distinct impression he deferred to his wife in everything.

I know the feeling well enough to recognize it because I never dare to challenge Loretta’s authority when it comes to financial matters. He was the typical henpecked business man – although there seemed to be a little more to it. His attractive daughter was about Jamie’s age – I had heard she had gone through a bit of a meltdown at one of the last football high school games but I didn’t know all the details. She just smiled at Wendy and watched with delight as the woman lifted up one of the chairs.

Wendy turned it upside down to look at the chair leg for a moment and consider it. Then said “I am sorry sir, for being slow. I’ll take them out right now! Thank you for reminding me to behave and allowing me to eat lunch!!” I felt that somehow Dr. Hooker’s letter to her had put her over the top on her commitment to what they were doing – without it she might not have dared.

“Buddy, help her!” Mrs. Miller instructed and her husband promptly grabbed another chair and followed her out to his car.

I didn’t see if anyone noticed Cow tits naked outside – but I thought her best chance to go unnoticed was to act like she had on a bathing suit or clothes and not even flinch if someone said anything to her.

The idea of her naked in our little laid back suburb, Cherry Lawn acres, was intensely arousing to me.

I asked Bill if he was intending to sell the family cell phones when I noticed Wendy had left hers by the door.

“No, I think we need them to communicate when my wife and daughter are whoring at the motel, we’ll just wait until the phone company cuts them off.” He said loud enough that the others could hear.

I saw Hope Miller cover her nose to hide either laughter or disgust. She lowered her hands after she recovered and said “Wow, Jamie is a hooker now, that’s awesome.”

“Why? Do you know some guys who want to fuck her?” Chris suggested she send them to the motel and gave her family directions but Hope’s mother changed the subject and once their car was loaded left without looking back.

Wendy remained naked well until the afternoon when she willingly walked into the back of Bill’s pick-up truck got on all fours and waited for him to close the gate so they could drive to the motel.

I had told Bill that I think Wendy had a journal on her phone and if he would mind if I read it while he took care of business at the motel.

He said “That doesn’t surprise me, sure go ahead, she has no secrets.”

I read the contents of what I would later call “Family Feud II and III”. It wasn’t until I snooped around the other cell phones of the family that I could begin to put the timeline together.

The family had lived what some might call a Greek tragedy. The central theme being ‘how the mighty have fallen’. The hubris of the women first seeking to better the men and then in the process treating them like house pets and addressing their sexual perversions.

I read about how Bill had been caught in his failed modeling arrangement and oy that Cathy Griffin – what a character!

It started to humanize Bill a lot more. The way he came across was a gruff and powerful alpha male but he was a schlub like me not too long ago.

Chris had been treated like a slacker and an idiot and from what I had seen all his growth and confidence had been very positive.

The girls at first had gone through several stages as they entered the discipline phase.

At first, this was just to appease the Griffins and in part their own conscience. “Fair is fair” they would say about letting the guys get a little payback.

Then it morphed at some point into a much more complex journey about the time the girls got the tattoos and body piercings. They became committed to changing themselves and respecting each other as a family –albeit in a very perverse way.

They also grew to be amused with Chris’s sick and twisted sense of humor. There was a competition between the two women at the same time their participation reinforced the others resolve to participate in it.

They fed off of each other and wanted to sacrifice for one another – but they were both so strong that they did not need to sacrifice for one another. I have to admit the picture that Wendy painted of her daughter was of a mini-version of herself that she had tainted and influenced in all the wrong ways to be a people-pleaser and a perfectionist.

The words written between the lines in the journal spoke of how she was sticking with this discipline in part to help bring the family together and to influence her daughter to be less of a stick in the mud who does what everyone else thinks she should be doing – cheerleading, honors student and popular shallow girl.

Wow, I wish there were mothers like this when I went to high school? Once again my imagination made me picture Mrs. Tannenbaum a neighbor of mine and her three Hasidic daughters all with dreidels in their assholes for Channukah while her husband and four sons took turns spinning them in the living room.

That night I told Loretta that I had to go the pharmacy to get some new asthma cream and I wanted it to be kosher so I might be gone a while. She didn’t question me and was happy to see me leave.

That was my first visit to the motel where the Taylors had moved. It was a real shandhoiz with very low and vulgar people. The most attractive woman there besides the Taylors was a transvestite.

I was not prepared to see Wendy and Jamie walking up and down the sidewalk like common whores but that is exactly what they were doing.

I learned that Hope Miller had gone home and invited most of the high school out to the motel and several of Jamie’s students had come to have sex with them. This had been good for the family and while I thought it would have a toll on Jamie because of the humiliation of having to service boys who used to think she was too good for them she said it was quite the opposite as she acknowledged me as key holder.

Jamie and Wendy had no inhibitions about sex with each other or Chris and Bill. They licked assholes, worshipped cocks, and took fingers and dicks in every hole as if they genuinely enjoyed it. At times, I wondered how much of that was an act or because they were being trained and whether or not they really liked the rough stuff – which seemed to be a large part of the sex between them.

They had no problem fucking strangers together either – they remained polite and when they were not they either told on each other or themselves and asked to be punished promptly – reporting for discipline to keep them in the right mindset.

They had stainless steel dildos at one point that had been engraved and given to them as butt plugs. I wish I had seen the rituals involved – because they had to ask men to remove them and re-insert them – and clean them with just their mouths. They weren’t allowed to touch them with their fingers. I learned in the process of their whoring, each of them had managed to lose their assigned butt plug – and paid a hefty punishment.

Make no mistake - The guys kept the girls’ asses plugged with other things, even broom handles. If their holes were not being trained for use later that night, they were being used by someone most of the time for gratification.

The one notable exception was a boy she had really liked. Bradley Jenkins was home from college and had heard she was at the motel. He came not to have sex with her but to rescue her and take her home.

He was convinced she was being manipulated and exploited and he was ready to fight Chris and Bill.

Jamie had to have a heart to heart talk with him and told him that she really liked him and wished she could have dated him under different circumstances. She had a crush on him in a big way and she found it absolutely adorable that he came to her rescue like a white knight.

“Some girls just don’t want saving, we don’t need saving. We are too busy saving others,” She told him. I have to admit when I heard her tell him this her sweet voice made me half wish she’d pick him and have a happy ending – love everlasting but she was adamantly aware of the commitment she had made and both her and her mother were not quitters.

He didn’t really understand what she was saying but I did. It took a lot of courage because she could have easily said “Hey the family is broke, you are rich, take me back to wherever and rescue me from this horrible situation.”

Instead, she let her father attach a weight to her clit for taking a break from hooking and thanked him right in front of Bradley. Then she told him if he wanted to keep talking it was okay but he’d have too at least pay for a blowjob.

Chris reminded her that he couldn’t just pay for the blowjob, she had to suck his cock while they talked. I think Chris was just joking with his sister but Bradley promptly left in his sports car and didn’t look back.

I always hated guys like that with perfect smiles and tans when I was in high school so I was glad he didn’t get the girl. He seemed a nice enough guy but I am sure he’d have his own happy ending with a woman more his speed at College.

I also learned about a Chiam Yankel (half-wit) named Jerry Cooper. I knew of his wife who still lives in their house in Cherry Lawn but I had never met him until tonight. He was such a Putznasher that he made me feel like Stone Cold Steve Austin the wrestler by comparison.

His wife had left him for another man. He lost his job because of his odd habits and apparently Wendy had tied him naked to a dumpster. He let his brother Peter who happened to be a midget dress him up as a woman and pimp him out after he got arrested.

I wish I had access to the Cooper’s phones to know how that story went. My furtive imagination pictured Peter bailing him out of jail and giving him an ultimatum. “Look, your life is a failure, you are a failure, you owe me bail money, you are going to do this or else!”

I would have assumed men would prefer an attractive woman with all the right parts but there seemed to be no shortage of men who wanted something exotic and unusual like tranny sex.

There also seemed to be a clientele that preferred ugly woman and Jerry was more of an ugly woman than he was an ugly and clumsy man dressed in his denim-mini-skirt with his fat-rolls stuffed into a halter-top.

Rahjid the motel owner cut him no slack “This is your first night on the clock, but you must earn the dollar, not sit around eating. This is not very good, you are not very good, come get to work.” He commanded in the pitter-patter of a man with a thick hindu accent.

I learned that Rahjid had a niece who he kept in bondage in his apartment but I was never allowed in to see her. My imagination pictured a room full of incense and Indian gods and goddess statues with a naked Indian girl all tied up and stuck with push-pins.

I was pleasantly surprised when I got to that part in Wendy’s journal to discover how right I had been. I spent most of my time outside of the motel reading her cell phone.

Jamie surrendered her cell phone to me voluntarily when she discovered I was reading her mom’s stories. “I kept a journal too, Sir. It’s only fair if my mom’s phone diary is being read.”

“Of course you were journaling this, you are just like me” Cow Tits told her daughter with pride.

“Thank you Ass Face,” I smiled up at her. “That is really noble and honest of you.”

Bill and Chris took the opportunity to give me their journals as well. “When you do something like this, and it’s the most interesting thing that has ever happened to you, you tell that story.” Bill said of his own meager journals. I was thankful to have them – they filled in so many of the blanks.

I was really shocked to learn from Wendy’s colorful stories that Hope Miller and so many other girls who were former cheerleaders at school had chosen similar paths of obedience and service.

The connecting point was Cathy Griffin for getting them started on that path through her devious little games of humiliation and shame.

Her Grandfather may have been the master mind but she was his enforcer and she still had not received her cum-uppance for her part in all of the lives she had wrecked and played with.

That bothered me – it was like a story with no proper ending.

I would spend all night at the motel and the rest of the week with them whenever I could.

I didn’t cheat on Loretta – I slapped their asses, I played with their tits, I brought some dreidels from home and told Chris to spin them to see what they might look like in their asses.

I didn’t have sex with them though. I felt that I needed to have my standards. I did let them eat my cum and by the end of the weekend they existed on a diet of nothing but cum, piss and handfuls of scrap food that they had first masturbated with .

I would eventually come to meet or know many of the other people that were mentioned in their journals.

The idiot savant Buford who flitted between lucid thought and this psychotically overly-happy version of Tommy Chong became a regular customer which helped the Taylors with their money problems.

I did not talk directly to Buford but one night I had a long chat with his chauffer. His story could have had a very unhappy ending but in this one it does not. It seems about ten years ago he was a high paid senior electrician and he accidentally zapped himself in an industrial accident.

He received a large cash settlement but it left his mind completely swiss-cheese and unable to work. Buford lost the part of his brain that self-regulates and inhibits bad behavior. The way tourettes makes people shout out obscenities – except in his case it made him riff on classic rock songs and sometimes remember very minute details.

His wife took the kids and left him homeless as well as a sizable chunk of his settlement. He didn’t begrudge her that – he was happy she was well taken care of.

His condition also made him a sex-addict and he immediately began throwing away his money at local strip clubs. He quickly found that everyone was his friend and wanted to help him spend his money.

He would have lost everything and been eaten up and spit out by the adult entertainment industry once he was broke. However, he happened upon a business partner who helped him start a small adult novelty store and movie theater at the right time – before the internet made those things relatively obsolete.

He parlayed that into a small chain of adult nightclubs and novelty stores and became very wealthy. He found that when he was lucid he could make very wise business moves and when he was not – he just sat back and enjoyed his wealth.

I was envious. If I ever go psychotic- I’d love to be happy all the time like that. I think I would look ridiculous in a Hawaiian shirt, jeans and a bandana but Buford could really pull it off.

He always tipped the girls a “Hundie” – short hand for a hundred dollar bill. The girls had a very strict code of not charging more than they were ‘worth’ in order to remain humble and not get too uppity. The exception to this rule – was Buford. They did however have to hand that money over they just earned with the sweat of their asses to the men who handled all the currency – a fact Buford neither seemed to mind or notice.

I had offered the Taylors a loan because in truth they were the first real friends I felt I had ever made at Cherry Lawn and I am talking about even other Jews who lived in the community – we are the most self-loathing of a people you’d ever want to know.

The girls spent most of their afternoons either tied up behind the motel and serving as playthings for some black kids who lived in the neighborhood or walking the street.

The police gave them a wide berth to do as they pleased. Prostitution was common on this side of town and apparently the ladies had turned over a man who had been beating and hurting prostitutes in the name of his religion and they were very grateful.

It also helped that they sucked off any policeman that stopped them without question and the Taylor’s paid protection.

The other prostitutes didn’t live by such extreme rules or lifestyle but there had been doubt the Taylors had left an impact on them.

Peter Cooper treated his brother like a slave and humiliated him whenever he could but they didn’t live at the motel. It was obvious Peter and Chris were cut from the exact same cloth and they both fed off of each other’s perverse mind.

Rahjid himself was obviously a man who craved control and authority. I could tell just from his thick mustache that it was something he hid behind to seem like a man with authority – I have a brother who did the same thing with his beard.

Rahjid had OCD about rules and he made elaborate schedules for breaks and time to work that the girls promptly ignored.

I think it was Tuesday of the next week that his wife – who seldom if ever spoke decided to do more than just stand at the window and accept the money.

She brought a thick yard stick into the cabanas of the three other girls.

A chubby but pleasantly cute Puerto Rican girl named Doris was the first to put up some resistance. She had an attitude that was a mile long and I believe she may have been the mother of several of the kids who used Wendy and Jamie as playthings during the afternoon. She was the kind of girl who wore big silver bangle earrings and that big hair like Laura Brannigan singing “Gloria” in the 1980s. If she was Jewish she would have been right at home with a lot of Jewish-American princesses I grew up with! – ah that takes me back.

There were probably about seven kids all living inside as well as an elderly woman and man and what I suspect was either her half-brother or lover or both named Victor. It is very possible that the kids were not all biologically hers. She may have been raising them for cousins or sisters or nieces who were in jail or who lost them through protective child services – I have no idea and I tend not to focus on those tragic stories.

I can only say they must have been VERY tragic if the better alternative was living in a broken down shandhoiz behind a dirty motel.

When Wendy and Jamie were their play-things, I mean they honked their bare breasts as if they were car horns and twisted them like they were airplane propellers. The girls, having no choice but to behave, would amuse them and go along with the games in the back alley.

Some of the prostitutes had young babies and I had seen Doris come out and let them suckle straight off Wendy and Jamie’s tits right in the dirty alley way. Doris would laughingly joke “Time to fill em up again, thank you ladies.” as she routinely held the baby up to suckle off one of the more engorged tits.

It turns out that Jamie and Wendy had been fed along with their birth control pharmaceutical grade lactation induction hormones that they got from one of Chris’s friends- and wow did they work. I’ve tasted that milk and while it’s sour – it reminds me of my youth!

I know I should refer to them as Cow-tits and Ass Face but I had grown to respect their patience and willingness to serve and while it was easy for everyone else at the motel – I just could not do it.

I was often surprised Chris and Bill would let them stay out there unsupervised. One time one of the boys stuck a garden hose at least six inches up Cow Tits tuchus and then blew into it like a French horn- but she seemed to take it all with good humor like it was just boys being boys.

One of the older girls out there called him ‘nasty’ and then said ‘you better not ever do something like that to me Tiontay, because I swear I will put you in your place.”

15 minutes later that girl had let him tie her to one of the strip-ties that had been bolted to the back of the motel. She had been the one to remove her pink nightgown revealing she was completely naked underneath and said “Oh I dare you, you would not never do nothing like that to me, because you know I would break off a brick and beat you with it.”

Shortly after she had a garden hose up her ass and her brothers and sisters were laughing. She kept saying “Tiontay, I know you are gonna untie me, because when I get down from here, you are going to pay.”

She eventually ended up with a teenage mutant turtle that had been covered in play-doh gagged in her mouth to shut her up.

I know I should feel bad for looking at her tight little body and chocolate black skin, with just a circle of pink where her bright pussy was held wide open as her legs were pulled apart.

However, I think they had seen Wendy and Jamie so often displayed this way that in the context of what happened – it seemed more like a practical joke.

Doris eventually came out and said “I don’t care who is doing it, or what she said! Untie your sister right this instance.” I am sure she meant instant but she said instance.

That is when Rahjid’s wife walked out from her office carrying her yard stick. She held it like a samurai warrior about to do battle. I thought she was about to beat the boys who had tied up their sister.

I had read about Mrs. Waxerman’s nephews and her niece – wow, the mental imagery of what must be going on in that household was so intense that I often wished I had been a fly on the wall. I never tied up my sisters – now I think I missed my chance after seeing how common it seemed to be.

She pointed at Doris and said “You will disrobe and get against wall.”

“Like hell I will!” Doris laughed at Rahjid’s wife.

“You are bad mother, you let your kids run wild. You raise Randi Ka Larka. You will be laid low.” I didn’t know what Randi Ka Larka meant so I googled it on Wendy’s phone. It means ‘Prostitutes Son’.

That is probably how people feel when I slip into Yiddish every now and then.

“You are going to tell me how to parent? What about that little bitch you keep locked up in your apartment, you think you are all that?” Every time Doris spoke her head pivoted hard left or right on her neck to punctuate her stubbornness.

“You know nothing of Urmilla Devi Das walk of shame and her spiritual awakening through being cleansed.” The elder woman spat on the ground. She wore the traditional gold woven sari of a woman from India and her face was leathered with the look of a person who had worked hard her whole life.

There was also a quiet and reserved strength that when she did speak – you knew it was important.

“I don’t know nothing about Oomillia Devee whoever-the-fuck, because I don’t give two shits. Now if you will let me get my fucking Dott-our” Doris’s Bronx accent was thicker than my own when she gets upset. “I’d like to get her down and get that hose out of her fucking butt, okay?”

“Then you take her place,” Rahjid’s wife says with the look of unwavering conviction that is reserved for martyrs who are about to blow themselves and something else up.

Her other kids laughed and I could have sworn the girl tied to the wall murmured ‘nasty!!’ through the play-doh gag in her mouth.

“Victor will you tell this bitch, please” Doris put her hands on her hips and called to her step-brother in the cabana they shared.

Victor came out dressed in a wife-beater and dirty underwear. He was a big man and he stretched and yawned as if he were just waking up yet it was already mid-afternoon.

“You say one word, I tell your probation officer about your marijuana plants you grow behind our place.” Rahjids wife stopped him.

“Shhh, not so loud mommy. That’s our little secret, I don’t want any neighbors finding out about that. My stuff is about to pop out and blossom and get me paid with that loco weed, we had a deal,” Victor said. He didn’t seem to have a problem discussing drug trade in front of his kids – I was quickly getting an education that what I consider normal and what they have grown up with are two different things entirely.

“You also be out on your ass with no place to live. This is mother’s test. If she loves her daughter she take her place, like these two white Dheeli Choot.”

I mentioned I have a tendency to blend in to the background and be un-noticeable. I think it is one of nature’s survival traits it hands out to men like me with forgettable faces. No one said a word to me and I just used Wendy’s phone to look up the words she called them – it meant ‘loose cunts’.

“Fuck your test, and fuck your shit, we are out of here, I’ll go work for Plus. I don’t need this drama at fucking 12 o clock in the god damned morning or whatever the fuck, I am trying to watch fucking Jerry Springer.” Doris turned to walk away from the wall where her daughter and Wendy and Jamie were bound and gagged to go back inside.

Victor said “Now wait a second, we can’t move, too much is riding on the line. Just fucking play her little game, it is not a thing.” He seemed cool and convincing – I was very envious how naturally that came to him.

“Not out here in front of my boys, Victor!” she said under her breath as she gritted her teeth and looked at him with stern eyes. I couldn’t understand why – we all heard her say it.

“They have seen you naked plenty of times, we all know you sell ass for a living to put food on the table,” Victor sounded convincing and level headed.

Doris was exasperated and she pulled off the smock she had on and unsnapped her bra and wiggled out of her panties. “Jesus fucking Christ, the things I do for this fucking family, I swear to fucking Gawd.” I could see that she had a rosary around her neck and it shocked me that a catholic would say ‘Jesus Fucking Christ’ but then I was learning that a lot of things happened that shocked me as part of everyday life for some people.

Doris was completely naked as she tossed her clothes in the dirty trail that stretches between the cabanas and the main motel. These cabanas are mostly for the prostitutes and their families and people who live here full time while the ones in the front are for ‘guests’ and for sex with the prostitutes.

Rahjid’s wife untied Nasty and removed the hose roughly from the girl and let her off the wall. She started to yell at her brother but one short “Shhtttt” from Rahjid’s wife silenced her.

The girl didn’t even put her pink Disney Princess nightgown back on while her chubby mother took her place with her back to the motel wall. It wasn’t until the first strap was around her wrist and tied off by Rahjid’s wife that Doris asked how long she had to be out there.

“Until you learn respect,” is all she said as she attached the other strap to her wrist.

“No, I mean, like how long do I need to play this game for free for you, for you to be happy? Like in minutes, Chica? I know you aren’t going to leave Rahjid’s best girl out here all fucking day, I need to start getting ready for my shift later tonight.”

It was at least 6 hours until the shift was to begin and Doris always showed up about 2 hours after that to start working – claiming she had some emergency or reason for taking so long.

“Spread legs so I can tie ankles apart,” Rahjid’s wife did not answer her question.

“Now this is bull motherfucking shit. I am on my fucking period. You can’t tie me spread open like these other whores. That’s just gross as fuck.”

“You are not on period, no tampon string.” Rahjid’s wife was also aware Doris’s used being on her period as an excuse at least five times a week every week. She struck her hard with the yard stick across the tits.

“Fine, reach in there and find the fucking string,” Doris squealed in frustration as she released her ankle and let Rahjid’s wife strap it so that it was spread.

The elderly matron said nothing as she tried to take the final leg and spread it so that she was wide open and her ass was lifted off the ground.

“Aieeee poppy chullo, This can’t hold my weight! Stop, it’s too much!” Doris wriggled and tried to prevent the elder balabusta from completing her bondage.

“You can say that again, Sis. You need to lose a little weight,” Victor laughed at her predicament and the kids did as well.

“Fuck you Victor, when I get down from here, I am going to work for Plus, this is serious!” she started to cry.

“Save your crocodile tear” Rahjid’s wife had Tiontay help her lift the woman’s left leg so that her tail bone was lateral with the ground and get her leg up and in one of the harnesses so she could strap it in.

“We know you are faking the tear, you will not work for the Plus, because for one, he does not want 7 more mouth to feed of your kids, and who all else you have in there. You are shit, you have shit on everyone who ever try to help you. You run out of option, you come to us. If you had better option you would have left already. You will stay like this all day, every day until we release you. You will ask Victor and your boys to tie you up at 9am every morning sharp out here. Is that understand?” it was the most words I had ever heard the old woman say at one time – and every single one of them felt like the pounding of a drum as my adrenalin raised to hear her out.

“Like fuck I will!” Doris struggled in vain to free herself of the plastic ties and break off the wall. “I am not going to do a single thing you tell me!” she threatened.

The old lady struck her right across her now spread open clit with the flat of the ruler and it sounded like it really stung. “You will do everything you are told or you will remain here all night.”

“Fuck that! Victor get me off here as soon as this dried up old fart goes back inside. Your husband doesn’t want me taking time off from work – he loves that money I bring in.”

Swat- another ruler across her pussy lips and when Doris went to complain about that two hard ones across her nipples. “You were given a choice to get your daughter off here - by taking her place, but you are so selfish you were going to let her stay.”

“That fucking hurts you crazy bitch. I am going to shove that yard stick straight up your…” three more strikes from the yard stick and Doris stopped threatening the old woman. Instead she changed tactics. “That isn’t true, I am up here on this wall. I took her fucking place.”

“You are there because I put you there, not because you chose to be.” Rahjid’s wife hit her across the ass cheeks with the yard stick and started to walk away.

“Hey, this is bullshit,” Doris called defiantly to the woman as she walked away. “I am getting my shit and going to work for Plus.”

The old woman turned back to look at Doris. I saw Doris visibly shudder and flinch but she said nothing. She kept the angry and defiant look on her face despite the silence that was brought on by fear of another swat.

Rahjid’s wife said nothing to her. Instead she handed the ruler to the girl who had been on the wall. “You may get dressed dear heart, and take care with this yard stick if she misbehaves. You are in charge of your brothers and sisters,” she smiled for the first time changing her flat and emotionless expression and walked back to the office.

“You better not hit me with that ruler, I swear to motherfucking gawd, AHHHH-HAW-HAW!-OWIEEE! DON’T HIT ME RIGHT ACROSS THE CLIT.”

I noticed Jamie and Wendy were silent the entire time despite being splayed out and tied up against the wall and not gagged. They had a tendency to use gallows humor as a coping mechanism when they were in particularly disgusting or difficult situations.

After Doris received a few spankings with the yard stick from her ‘ungrateful brats’ who she continued to threaten that she would get even with when she was released they lost interest and began playing in the dirt around the women.

I liked how they were lined up with slits and assholes on full display against the wall, their legs were raised above their heads and spread as were their arms. The mid-day sun would make them sweat and squint and I am sure it made their muscles sore and wore-out but Jamie and Wendy chose instead of complaining to crack the occasional joke.

“Just be happy that Tiontay doesn’t use you as a M&M Dispenser,” Jamie laughed. I noticed she didn’t call Doris Ma’am when she said it to her – I think that was deliberate because she saw her on her level.

“Oh you two fucking white bitches, think you are so fucking smart, I ate all the fucking M&M’s last night,” Doris seethed with anger. I didn’t stay to watch but I smirked as I walked around to the front of the motel and heard her say “God Damn it, Dante’, you little freak. I didn’t know you had a bag of M&Ms too. Oh no, you better not stick them in my asshole. Okay you little dirty motherfucker, I swear to god you aren’t getting them back – or if you do, you won’t like the taste!”

Rahjid’s wife didn’t have to do this to the other two women that worked for her husband. Ronnie and Maya fell in line shortly after they saw how serious she was. They started showing up on time, being respectful and turning in more money.

Doris’s example served as a wake-up call to the other girls. The pimp named “Plus” did indeed want nothing to do with a prostitute who had seven kids, and several other mouths to feed. He never showed up to come to her rescue.

At first, Doris was very surly and angry about the new arrangement. She went through what I would call the many phases I’ve seen people who are in denial about Jewish tradition would.

1. Denial – She could not believe this was happening to her. She could not believe it had come to this. She had not had rules or structure and she provided none to her kids for so long that she was choking on the idea of having them.
   
   

2. Anger/Debate – She was angry at everyone. Her kids most of all who took turns using the ruler on her every time she opened her mouth. The sassy daughter of hers took to bringing soap for her mother’s mouth anytime a litany of curse words came out of her lips. I will admit – one of Doris’s best features was her puffy, sultry lips. I had a feeling she might be one heck of a kisser – but I am not sure I would have even if I was not married to Loretta.
   
   This eventually turned to negotiation after a few days. Doris at first balked at even going back out there the second day – but eventually she was negotiating to be allowed to sleep in and go out at noon, 11am and 10am. Rahjid’s wife told her in no uncertain terms she could tie her out there as soon as she finished her shift if she was late even one day.
   
   

3. The Dumpster – Rahjid’s wife eventually went through Doris’s clothes and effects and had the kids either take or throw away anything that she felt she did not need or kept her from working.
   
   Doris was left with two different outfits and a very minimal amount of makeup and perfume.
   
   

4. Davening – Wendy and Jamie did this on a regular basis with Bill and Chris but they called it ‘Affirmations’. Rahjid’s wife would walk out every few hours to inspect Doris’s sour attitude and check on her.
   
   The Davenings went a little like this example;
   
   

“Oh fucking thank gawd, you are here. I am tired of this fucking game, I’ve learned my lesson. Let me down from here and I promise I’ll be a good mother and behave, I fucking swear it.” She would wail and whine.

SWAT- “Your swears mean nothing to me. They are the words of a whore, do you agree?” Rahjid’s wife said with her jaw clenched tight and slapping the now well-used yard stick in her hand in a threatening manner.

“No, I am not bullshitting. Ask my kids, I even made dinner last night. I mean I didn’t make it but I ordered pizza.”

SWAT – “You will call me Ma’am, do you understand?”

“Yes Ma’am, but I am not calling my kids Sir and Ma’am, that’s not right!” Doris would acquiesce a little as she resisted.

SWAT -“Are they whores and drug dealers?”

“No, Fuck…” – SWAT – “I mean No, Ma’am they aren’t.”

“Then you will show them proper respect, because you are a whore. Is that understood by you?” – SWAT – Rahjid’s wife could swing that yard stick with expert precision.

She didn’t feel the need to discipline Wendy and Jamie – which I think was the biggest compliment she could share with them silently.

5. Mussar- It took the entire weekend and several more days before I think it finally sunk into Doris that this was going to be how things were going to be. However, she eventually got into the habit and routine that was expected of her.
   
   
   

Every night she was on time and reported to work without overdoing her makeup. She was much more pleasant to her customers and while some of them were a little confused because they were used to her being an obstinate.

She turned in her money and thanked Rahjid’s wife and then went home, tucked in her kids and went to sleep in her bed.

At first the kids had to wake up and prod her out of bed but eventually she was stripping on her own and walking outside to get tied up. She would try at first to ask them “Tiontay, please don’t tie my wrist so tight, its cutting off my circulations”.

He would look at Rahjid’s wife for instruction and with a nod from her he tightened it harder.

“I mean Tiontay Sir, please do not tie my wrist so tight, it’s cutting off my blood supply, sir” with a sigh or an exasperation. She would stay outside behind the motel and her kids would bring her out food and hand feed her while she was tied up.

“Please Sir, don’t spill the beans and rice down my chest..aiiiiieee, poppy!” she would get angry and then control her temper. “That’s okay poppy, Sir, just put it in my mouth and I am not mad about it.”

The other Koorvah who worked for Rahjid seemed grateful that Doris had been tamed. They found her easier to work with and more pleasant. They didn’t tease her about her having to spend all day outside in the nude.

One of her big concerns was eventually someone would find out she was back there and rape her but it never happened. “If you are good most of the time we will leave at least one of you ungagged. You will sound alarm if anyone comes out and one of your kids are to come find me. I will take care of it,” Rahjid’s wife received a solid thank you from Doris once she accepted that answer.

She eventually grew to tolerate being a toy for the kids in the yard like Jamie and Wendy. They would honk her boobs or tug her tampon string without too much complaint. She didn’t appreciate that her daughter had become the defacto ruler of the house but she was also compliant with that – because the kids were less chaotic and were better fed. They were getting structure and discipline under her daughter who seemed to crave giving that to others and taking care of them and her grandparents.

Rahjid’s wife insisted that any babies that needed to suckle come to feed on Doris first and it turns out that she had more than enough milk for her babies. She had just hated having to sit there and do it, but Jamie and Wendy were happy to oblige as well or else their breasts would get engorged and swollen.

In many ways, I believe that Rahjid’s wife had tremendous respect for Wendy and Jamie – as much as she could have for what she considered low-base white American whores. She liked how willing they were to just do as they were told and not question authority – a value that she held very high.

The girls fell into a routine each day getting hosed off behind the motel.

They would usually be tied up outside at 4 a.m after an inspection and healthy fucking from Bill and Chris. They would spend most of the day outside and be fed by Doris’s kids with her.

The house had been reposessed that weekend and Roscoe was now living at the motel. He didn’t belong to anyone but everyone fed him and loved him. The Taylors took great pains to make Jamie and Wendy have sex with Roscoe at least once a day – but out of sight of everyone else.

I have to admit – I’d never believed women did that sort of thing. If they did, I assumed it was Germany or Japan – some place where women totally didn’t have values about fetish and sexuality.

Woody Allen said “Sex is only dirty if it is done right,” – watching the girls animalistic fuck and service the family dog was definitely dirty – so it must have been right.

I won’t go into details because I have limited time to finish this story but suffice to say the sight of one of those lovely women knotted and unable to even move after he finished cumming in them – awakened so many fantasies in me and I don’t even own a dog – I am allergic.

I am allergic to most things but that is beside the point. Pet dander, on the day I was born fortune said of me “Eyn imglik iz far im veynik”.

The men would untie them during the day one at a time usually to fuck or punish. They would get affirmations in the motel or sometimes right in front of Doris behind the motel.

They were never allowed to use the toilet – so they often pissed right where they were tied up. It did not matter how many times it happened, if one of the girls farted, queefed or peed, the kids outside would laugh at it.

I noticed in the Taylor’s cell phones that some of them had taken pictures – perhaps to document the particularly wild and tawdry spiral of humiliating things the girls did and perhaps to blackmail them with later.

There were pictures of the two women dressed as “Spongeboob” and “Sandy Buttcheeks” – cartoon characters. I made sure to show those photos to the kids outside who not only thought that was hilarious, but got the idea to dress the three women up with toys, paints, markers.

I am kind of a schtinker but I have to admit I thought they would be particularly creative. I especially liked Doris shouting how they better not be in her expensive ‘make-ups’ if they were going to paint the girls up today.

They spent one afternoon in green, blue and pink body paint and belts as the ‘Power Puff Girls”. I remember Jamie was “Bubbles” – her and Chris seemed to be the only adults who even got the reference.

Then again – were they really adults? They were being treated as such and making their own decisions.

One day Mr. Dragovich the school principal came to the motel. He had sex with Wendy but also brought news that Jamie could come back to school if she wanted. She said she had one more week of duty like this and then she would think about it.

There seemed to be a quiet and unspoken question that all of them wrestled with but seldom talked about. The question of what to do after this was ‘Over’.

It became clear to me that their routine had started to feel ‘normal’ to them and they were in no hurry to end it.

About 5pm the Taylor sluts would be untied and thank their owners profusely. Doris would show resentment that she was still on the wall until 6pm and at times even ask why Ronnie and Maya didn’t have to do this too – but no one answered her.

Wendy and Jamie would be hosed off again and be given something to eat in a dog dish. Then they would be given an enema and allowed to relieve themselves outside.

They would be given an affirmation and allowed to get dressed, and then start working well before the sun even set so that they stood outside in the skimpiest outfit while cars honked as the industrial centers emptied of workmen and the streets came alive with prostitutes, pimps and drug dealers.

The question seemed to be after the coming weekend – would the girls stop being submissive or would they continue. They had been wearing ‘weights’ that they had earned through bad behavior but just as quickly they would do something above and beyond like a gang-bang or behave very well and the men would let them remove the weight.

As long as they had the weight they had to continue serving.

I had a feeling just from what I knew about Wendy and Jamie – as long as the other girl had a weight dangling from her clit – the other would not try to remove any of her own. They were in this together despite how competitive they could be.

There were a few interesting events that happened at night while they worked sucking cocks and fucking strangers for money. Pimps who tried to recruit them, neighbors from Cherry Lawn who ‘heard’ they were out here and just wanted to ‘give them a ride’.

The girls for their part however sucked cocks, fucked cocks, lick cocks and then deposited the cum-filled condoms with their mouths as well as the money at Rahjid’s office. Most nights the weather was clear and cool but it even rained one night – and the girls stood out in the rain and were drenched and soaked – while they waited for customers to stop.

You might think the girls being submissive and the men functioning as their disciplinarians meant there were incapable of making decisions for themselves.

That was simply not true. They chose to be obedient and when they had no one to tell them what to do they behaved in the spirit of what they had agreed to every time. They chose not to give up, give out or give in.

I found myself making excuses to my wife to spend as much time as possible both day and night at the motel watching this unfold. I did not know how long they would remain in town and as much as I hate to admit that I was lying to Loretta – I most certainly was being dishonest so that I could watch over what was becoming my new obsession as it unfolded instead of just reading their journals.

I read the journals over and over – as I hope one day someone else will read the Family Feud series – which is my attempt to get the timeline of events just right as well as share the thoughts and hopes of each of the Taylor family as the events unfolded.

I would even ask Chris or Bill what they thought about a particular past event like when the girls got their tattoos or their experiences at the county fair when the girls were in stocks and being pummeled with tattoos.

Did they have malice? Did they really want to get even with the girls? I found that while they may have at the time the answer isn’t so cut and dry – they grew to love what the girls were doing and while at times even they questioned whether they should continue – they all fed off each other’s mutual willingness to do this.

I would sometimes ask

However, I should bring up the weekend of the big internet user forum as that is when things seemed to come to a head.

The background is that Bill Taylor had spent a lot of his time on Internet forums talking about his glory days as a football star in high school. He had developed a rival who went by “Graymalkin” on the sports forum that was so important to him a few months ago.

If you read Family Feud I, the very first line is something Bill said as Iceman 5142 online right before this all began.

"Hey dumbass! Before you turn into a mini Graymalkin, re-read what I said. I said Dallas got to five rings before the Steelers. And who did Dallas get Ring #5 from?? THE STEELERS. I didn't say who was what for standings against one another in super bowls."

Iceman5142

Graymalkin had gone to the rival high school during the same time as Bill and had a different account of the ‘Big Game’ for his senior year in which Bill received an injury and didn’t get the credit he was due for helping the team to victory.

Bill had for a long time thought that if he had received the credit then he would have been given a full scholarship to college. Then instead of working right after high school to help support his high school sweet heart (Wendy) through college because she had a partial scholarship - he could have also gone.

Bill eventually got laid off from his job and as Wendy’s income was far higher he grew increasingly complacent and adjusted to sitting around all day on the internet. That is part of the reason Wendy tried to wake her husband up and get him to appreciate and notice her. She wanted him to take charge back over the family and take responsibility for his actions – take pride in his appearance and some of her early rules were designed to make him work out and realize what an out of shape, fat-ass he had become.

She became power-mad of course and kept the guys naked and collared and under supervision every day. I have to admit – the idea of that fantasy stuck with me and when I asked Bill or Chris about it – they were very short on the details. Understandably so, it was a very embarrassing time.

The girls had never really done all that much to train the men in the same way they did to them. The more I thought about that first part of the story – the more I realized it was Cathy Griffin who made Chris moo and stick light bulbs up his ass, while wearing a diaper that had really begun the humiliation.

I wanted very much to go with them to the Internet User’s forum but I didn’t think Loretta would buy any of my excuses to let me go. I eventually just told her that I wanted to help the Taylor’s move into a new place and she accepted that answer so I got to ride with them in their truck.

Bill joked “Not enough room up front, get in the back with the girls Morty”. I almost did as I was told before I saw his grin telling me it was okay to squeeze up front with him and his son in the cab.

It was a long cold ride to the Internet User’s forum some seventy miles away. Bill didn’t stop very often – and when he pulled into a truck stop or a rest stop he made sure that the girls got trained or rented out.

He’d have them pretend they didn’t realize they were in the men’s bathroom and then approach a stranger and say that they needed gas money and would they mind if they sucked their cocks for it – More often than not the girls came out with ten or twenty dollars.

Bill had made reservations at a large Motel where this little gathering was to be months ago. He was actually reluctant to go now and didn’t see this as a good use of their time.

He had earned back his football memorabilia and the game tape to show to Graymalkin and the internet forum members who were interested in the internet flame war between the two men.

However, he had a new perspective on what was important and this just wasn’t it.

We all shared a room and the women were even allowed to use the toilet in the bathroom - After a reasonable amount of grateful thanks for the privilege that they had long since lost.

The girls were to sleep on the floor unless they were being fucked in one of the beds.

Once we got to the motel, we went and ate at a Waffle House that was across the way and brought back some hash browns for the girls to beg us for as we hand fed them.

Chris asked me if I was ever going to fuck his mom. “I am married Chris, I cannot cheat on my wife.” I replied.

“You have cum in my mom’s hair, her mouth, why not on her ass or cunt?” he seemed stupefied by my limits. I felt embarrassed – like he was challenging me or seeing me as a coward.

I think he picked up on my reluctance and let it drop while shaking his head. I wanted to fuck his mom and Jamie definitely – I just felt really like it was a line I could not personally cross.

When we got back to the room everyone showered and got ready. The girls were to wear their very best slut clothes and treat us like total ‘pimps’. Bill was to come up with both women on his arms and show off and pay the big man.

The Internet forum was kind of a letdown. I had pictured what my high school prom was probably like - hundreds of handsome and popular people in tuxedos and gowns as music played.

A fat guy named “Robert” who was wearing a “Libertarians do it alone – Gary Johnson 2012” t-shirt walked across a nearly empty room and asked us to sit with the seven other people who had shown up.

“We are expecting Malachi, and I heard Shadowman was going to try to make it” Robert told us when we inquired if anyone else was going to be there.

The seven people looked like extras one might find at a casting call for “Revenge of the Nerds” – not that I have much room to talk. I was instantly accepted as one of them and they asked me my internet forum handle. I told them I didn’t have one and that led to a 20 minute sales pitch on the value of being a member of their forum.

“I don’t even like sports, I bruise easily” I said in my defense.

“So do I, I just go on there because I have no one else to talk too” a nebbish guy with thick glasses answered.

It became apparent that other than Bill and Graymalkin that these ‘sports fans’ had never played sports and didn’t seem to be as knowledgeable about it as they let on.

Graymalkin was fashionably late and he was the only other person who brought a woman to the gathering.

Wendy and Jamie had been the center of attention – they sat with their legs open so that if someone looked under the table they could see up their skirts. Their chests were out and their heads were tilted back.

Graymalkins wife was hot – a definite 40-something blonde milf. Wendy recognized that she had been head cheerleader at Cherry Lawn High when Bill went there.

“So you switched schools and married a Ram, huh?” Bill recognized her too. He had apparently dated her before he started dating Wendy. “This is a pleasant surprise, let me introduce you to my wife Cow…I mean Wendy, and my daughter Jamie, this is Chris and our friend Mort Goldman.”

“Oh wow, so you had kids and everything?” Graymalkin meant it as a sarcastic insult of some kind – but it fell flat in part because no one else saw it as a negative.

“Yes I did, I guess you didn’t huh?”

Graymalkin was a tall guy, fairly handsome, the type of guy who might be a manager of a small department store or Dairy Queen. Dark hair trimmed neat with just a hint of a five O’clock shadow.

I think Bill might have been slightly intimidated if he had been in the mind-set he had before he took charge of the women. As it was, Bill did all the talking that night and set the record straight without even showing the video tape of the game.

Graymalkin didn’t even challenge him on his account of how the game had happened.

The night went very casually as we all ate pizza and talked over one table. Shadowman did indeed show up. Chris said “Wow, you look like Jeffery Dahmer wearing serial killer glasses,” of the man’s squared glasses.

“You know, you aren’t the first person to tell me that,” Shadowman said and continued to sit there quietly at the table without saying a word.

This was a very eclectic group of nerdy people. I am more of an accountant or a pharmacist kind of nerd and these were computer geeks – so I was a little out of my element but I seemed to fit in.

“Wendy would you like to pick three of the guys from here to take back to the room and fuck?” Bill said as the night started to wear down.

“Oh Can I too, Daddy?” Jamie said enthusiastically – recognizing they were playing something they called ‘White Alert’ where the rules of their discipline changed and they pretended to be wanton sluts – at least that is how I think it works.

“You wait your turn, let your mother pick first, Kitten” Bill answered his daughter with a broad smile as every single face – including Graymalkin and his wife froze and everyone’s jaw dropped open.

“I don’t know, Sir…” Wendy scanned the nerds at the table as if evaluating each of them. “I don’t know what size cocks they have, can you pick for me, Dear?” she answered like Donna Reed asking her husband to pass the coffee at breakfast.

“I don’t know what size cocks they have either, would you guys mind coming back to the room and letting my wife take a look at your packages?” Bill smiled.

Most of the guys’ eyes were popping out at this stage but they were also intimidated.

“Can Mort be one of the three to fuck me tonight, Sir?” Wendy inquired of Bill.

“I don’t know, Mort is a married man? What do you say Mort? At least fuck my wife in the ass” Bill nudged me good-naturedly to play along.

I wasn’t used to the white alert game and I looked down at my shoes. “I don’t know,” I couldn’t go through with it and I hated being put on the spot like that.

“Can I suck your dick at least?” Wendy offered me trying to entice me. The net effect was the other guys at the table were either impressed with me or thought I was a giant schmuck for not saying yes, yes, a thousand times yes.

“Hey, what about me? I’d like to suck his cock too! He’s been so nice and thoughtful, listening to all our stories,” Jamie chimed in sweetly.

I turned around to leave – I was about to say yes and give in to the temptation.

I saw my own Loretta standing there behind me and she was smiling. “Good boy, you CAN be trusted,” She mused.

I was confused and looked back at my friends the Taylors. Bill explained “Your wife was worried about you. We told her we would prove you weren’t interested in sex.”

“Wow, thank you!” I was relieved that she wasn’t there to lower the boom on me with divorce papers.

Loretta had reserved another room in the motel for us. This would be the last time I saw the Taylors ever again – though I’ve fantasized about them thousands of times since.

EPILOGUE ----

I heard that eventually the Taylor’s moved away from the motel to Indiana where Wendy’s mother and father live on a farm. They chucked everything and started over out there.

The way Wendy explained it in an email – at first they found it hard to stop saying Yes Sir and being told when to go pee or eat but they eventually adjusted. They fucked some strangers on the way to Indiana for gas money but the discipline eventually loosened by the time they reached the farm.

They will never forget the time they took these roles and everything they learned. The girls don’t intend to remove their tattoos and Wendy says when Jamie finally has kids of her own they’ll look back on this time and laugh about them.

I did not hear what kind of reception they received when they got to the farm in Indiana but I hope it was a good and accepting one. I am sure that if her parents heard about half the things they did they would think Wendy had lost her mind.

Vicky the co-worker had been playing with fire at work. She had set up her co-worker to get a big promotion and get rid of her rival Wendy but what she didn’t realize is that Mr. Bitterman (Cathy Griffin’s Grandfather) was an immensely wealthy sadistic sociopath.

When the Taylors were gone – he turned his attention to blackmailing Vicky for the sheer joy of doing it. She lost her job, her house, her life savings and ended up being a pierced and tattooed whore.

As I understand it, she ended up working for Pete Cooper and Rahjid who became partners after the Taylors left. Peter’s brother Jerry ended up getting an operation and losing his testicles and getting fake breasts.

The Cherry Lawn High School went on to produce scandal after scandal as cheerleader sex rings and football gay-sex prostitution hit the headlines. Mr. Dragovich ended up retiring to work as a Private Investigator.

Cathy Griffin graduated a few months ago, and apparently forced Buddy Miller (Hope Miller’s father) to sell his dealership and fly her to Brazil. Her grandfather apparently caught up with the two of them and while it is just rumor, I heard that Cathy, Buddy, Hope and her mom are all living as personal slaves on the Bitterman Ranch in Utah.

I wanted to go out to that flea market I read about in one of the Taylor’s journals and check up on Sun-Lee to see if she really was still living in bondage as well.

However, the night of the Taylor’s internet forum group my entire life changed.

Loretta and I sat down and had a heart to heart talk. She said that the Taylors had told them everything that happened and she saw where I had been transcribing their story from the documents on their phone into the ‘Family Feud’ series.

I said I was a nerd – but not a computer nerd. I am sure I made it easy for her to find the documents without realizing she was even looking.

I was naïve to think she was believing my lies – she had just been patient while I went and followed them around.

“Mort, I think you know what has to happen now?” she smiled.

I swallowed – thinking that divorce was still in the cards. I was already calculating how much I would lose in the divorce when she held up a leather dog collar.

My eyes got big – could she really mean it?

“Loretta, I am glad you have an interest in this, but I really don’t know if I could be controlling and discipline you the same way. You train to be a Kurva? I don’t even know. I mean, I care about you so much. I don’t think I could treat you like an object,” I was sputtering and switching into Yiddish and my New York accent.

She gave me a look with her eyes without saying anything. I was dumb founded.

“No really Loretta, I am so glad you want to do this, it’s just well, I mean you have no idea how it works, it is really more difficult than you think. I do not think you are ready for it, but I am flattered.” I insisted but she gave me that look again. It was a curious yet stubborn look -

My angel – my darling Loretta said “Chaimyankel kooternooz” and I knew exactly what she wanted and I didn’t hesitate or over-think.

I took the dog collar from her finger tips and put it around my neck and snapped it in place.

“Very good, my darling boy. I knew you would understand, now let’s get this locked on.”

“What about when we visit my mother in law?” I already had a very tenuous relationship with her mother who was devoutly orthodox.

“She knows about it already, you can wear clothes and sit in the corner if you are a good boy when she comes to dinner.”

I undressed for my wife as she introduced me to the clothes I would be permitted to wear from now on – it included lacey panties and a tiny half-cup bra for my doughy- chest.

“Can we have a document with rules though, about make-up and punishments?”

“Of course my little Shvuntz, my brother Harry is an attorney. I had him draw one up already, what do you think? I am going to play this all by ear?”

“Harry already knows?” I kvetched.

“Bend over my knee right now!” She insisted. I felt like Doris must have at the moment she was first being asked to comply – when you have to decide whether you are going to rebel or just go along with it.

I bent over my wife’s knee and let her spank my ass red with her shoe. “I am not talking twice to you Shvuntz. I told you Harry wrote up the agreement. It also includes your legal name change to Shvuntz, the assets all going into my name, everything. You are going to sign today - do you understand Shvuntz?”

“Yes Ma’am!” I replied dutifully – I couldn’t believe how turned on I was.

“Ma’am, will never do,” Loretta said disgustedly. “Balabatish! From now on, no exceptions under any circumstances.”

The word meant A true Jewish princess – the most excellent example of a woman of our traditions. “Yes Ma’am,” I stuttered and received a swat for my failure to say it. “Balabatish is the word of respect that you deserve as head of our household.”

“Now you are getting it, and I will call you Shvuntz, unless I get tired of it and then I will call you Schmuck or Putz or Zhlub or whatever I want – you’ll rarely ever hear me say Mort again and if you DO hear it, you better be worried, is that understood Shvuntz?”

“Oh yes, Balabatish!” I agreed whole heartedly.

My wife and I spent the next night in gloriously exquisite negotiations about what I was allowed to eat (mostly my own cum) and where I would sleep (in the backyard).

I was never allowed to go back to that motel to see if Doris had kept up with the discipline or whether or not Vicky was really a whore working for Pete Cooper.

I liked to imagine the little man giving her a hard time and insulting her for making less than his brother did on the street and tying her up.

“I just wanted to see if Roscoe was doing okay as everybody’s pet running free at the motel,” I told my wife.

“Shvuntz, don’t ever lie to me again. You are a terrible liar. Your cock gets hard when you tell a lie – That is why I keep it on display in its little metal cage. You want to go to that motel to see those girls and get into who knows what trouble. You will stay right here. I have my book club coming over and you will serve tea and behave this time!” she replied.

My wife had a cockmaster 3000 that we bought at one of Buford’s Adult emporiums. It prevented me from getting hard or masturbating as my testicles and dick were kept in a tiny cage – it was hell the times I would get aroused and felt like I would explode.

I asked if she would let me masturbate in the living room into a mason jar while she watched before I drank my breakfast, lunch or dinner ‘milk-shake’ made up of that cum – in part as an homage to the Taylor family.

I now live permanently trained as her slave. She lets me paint her nails and give her pedicures but I no longer have sex with my wife. I am allowed to lick the cum that drips out of her after she sees another man – as long as I thank her appropriately.

I have to close this story now because my wife has forbidden me to use a computer going forward because I didn’t want to wear the French maid costume when her book club came over.

They all laughed at me and my mother in law and sister are members of the book club!

I will close however with the letter from Doctor Hooker to Jamie that she never read. She didn’t need it – but I did.

My Dear Jamie,

No matter whether you call yourself Ass Face, Cunt, Whore, or Jamie Taylor you are a remarkable young woman. You know who you are and what is inside of you – you are a good person.

I enjoyed immensely our time together and I will never forget you- no matter where your path takes you – I hope that while your memory of this old man may fade, my words will stay with you.

We don’t win at this life by living longer. We win at this life by living well and living fully. For in the end death is always going to come for all of us. The question is: What do we do between the time we are born, and the time he shows up? Because when he shows up, it’s too late to do all the things that you’re always gonna, kinda get around to.

You have already had two lifetimes before you reached adulthood. You got to live the popular cheerleader honor student life and you had a chance to chuck all of that and redefine yourself as someone who is no longer prideful – subservient and obedient, considerate and patient.

Imagine what you are going to do with your life after that? There is so much more left to go and I will envy how quickly you trust, you love, you make intelligent choices and you respond to life.

I taught students in a University for more years than I care to count and you have more character and spunk than any student who was worth remembering from my time there. Your father and mother produced a genuinely outstanding young lady.

You might call yourself a whore now, but you have also carried yourself with grace and character like a lady.

Your mother and you spoke of failures and shortcomings that you were addressing and I am glad you were. The methods you chose were amusing enough that I wish all pretty young girls would choose to use those corrective methods.

However, there is no shame in failures.

Failure gave me an inner security that I had never attained by passing examinations.

Failure taught me things about myself that I could have learned no other way – and I suspect that you could have not unless you embraced what your father and brother were teaching you.

I discovered that I had a strong will, and more discipline than I had suspected; I also found out that I had friends whose value was truly above the price of diamonds. The knowledge that you have emerged wiser and stronger from setbacks means that you are, ever after, secure in your ability to survive.

You will never truly know yourself, or the strength of your relationships, until both have been tested by adversity. You and your family have tested yourself by walking through fire of public opinion, humiliation, and most probably actual fire.

If not, I would be surprised.

Thanks to you, I met my neighbor Mrs. Waxerman.

I had always thought she was a bitter old shrew who only knew how to gossip and preach judgmental, angry, hell and damnation about everyone and everything.

I found a different side to her – one that like you craves structure and discipline.

I’ve lived a life for many years to myself. I have begun coming over to her house to discipline her and her niece who is a very rough piece of clay.

Thanks to you and your family, for opening my eyes and bringing them into my life.

I wrote a small note of encouragement to your mother as well. However, for you I don’t think you need such encouragement. I do not mean to say your mother is weak – just that she may have needed that extra little push to help her through.

You however, I want to leave with one final thought.

I am myself a storyteller, and therefore, an optimist — a firm believer in the ethical bend of the human heart; a believer in the mind’s appetite for truth and its disgust with fraud and selfishness.

From my point of view, your life is a miracle of chance waiting for you to shape its destiny.

A storyteller picks the most interesting point in their character’s life and tells that.

Even though your story – what I understand of it is very interesting, I believe you have future stories even more interesting to be told about you.

Love,

Doctor J. Hooker (PH.d)