Chapter Eighty-Two

I Speak Three languages, God Damned English, Fucking Profanity, And REAL SHIT! I Am Speaking Real Shit To You Right Now.

“Cricket stop cracking farts!” Savannah demanded from right next to me as we jogged naked. “I know it was you –so don’t even lie!”

The things that bothered me were that, first of all, we were naked out in public letting everything hang out while running past row after row of trailer homes. Secondly, Daisy would mumble lamentations about her so-called reputation and what she would do, but all the other runners seemed to accept it. Further, the paved road was often cracked, and full of stones and bits of glass bottles, and it hurt my feet; but no one else seemed to mind that either. If they did I didn’t hear them complain or stumble. People who came out of their trailer to look at us did so either to cheer us on, snap a picture on their cell phone, yell at us to stop, laugh, point, or throw something at us as we ran past. They were careful not to hit S.S. or anyone in the golf-cart, but I got splashed with tea from a McDonald’s cup and there was absolutely nothing I could do but smile and run straight forward. Ted’s whip hurt and over time the stinging actually grew worse from throbbing.

We had only been running for 15 minutes and already I was panicking because my pussy was wet and dripping, and there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop it. I couldn’t stop being aroused and the more I thought about that – the more aroused I got.

Yet, my cousin, with all these valid reasons to complain had mentioned three times already that Cricket was farting too much.

“I am NOT!! Suck-Vannah!” Cricket sounded annoyed at the accusation and stuck out her tongue at my cousin. At the same time she seemed somehow pleased with herself that she was even running out here with us and saw all the attention we were getting as positive attention.

“You don’t get to call me that –only my FRIENDS can call me that!” Savannah couldn’t reach Cricket’s ass to kick it from where she was next to me, so she crowded closer to me and raised her knee extra high to get an extended kick off – actually managing to kick Cricket in the ass. It was kind of playful, but at the same time – Savannah can just be ornery.

“Whoa, cut the music! Whoa horseys!!! Dunkay Stop!!” Ted insisted everybody stop so he could “...handle this shit.”

Ted loved to posture and rant, and with all of us tied up and unable to even move out of the way he was in his element to bully and intimidate us completely. He marched up and down the line of naked guys and girls and made us flinch as if he was going to backhand us.

“Don’t flinch from me,” Ted stated angrily, “I’ll god-damned tell you that right the fuck NOW!” the cuss words were flying out of his mouth as if to punctuate his anger. I thought he might be hyper-inflating how important discipline was because we were all just letting off some steam after a very profitable day. This was after all, a game; wasn’t it? A scam to trick people into giving us money – and yet it was easy to forget that we didn’t do anything to deserve this other than choose to participate in the grifts.

It started to feel more and more like people had lost sight of that and the power might be going to his head. Ted seemed like he might be flying off the handle as he shouted “This is my little pussy parade! Come on pussies – shine for Daddy!”

If people hadn’t seen us running through their neighborhood, they would soon hear us

with all the ruckus Ted was making. I could already see curtains flying open and hear the laughter of adults and kids alike as they realized what a spectacle was standing on their normally fairly quiet trailer street.

“Ted, this is P street! This is nowhere near Glory Hill – why are we here? This isn’t fair – you are trying to make everybody we ever went to high school with see me naked, Sir!” Daisy whined.

“Shut the fuck up, you cow!” Ted screamed. “You try to make everything about you – this is not about YOU right now – do you want me to MAKE it about you right now?” Ted barked in her face like a Marine Drill Instructor.

“No sir, I don’t!” Daisy whimpered – genuinely intimidated, or a very good acting job on her part.

“Why don’t you just stick a wadded up pair of your underwear in her mouth and duct tape the whore’s mouth shut, Ted?” Odd-Jobs offered his sagely advice. “Then you don’t have to hear her whine and beg and complain – which would be a huge relief.”

“Nah!” Ted waved the idea off completely, “I want her to run her fucking mouth. It is what gets her in trouble. She thinks she is going to get home and convince Maw-Maw to feel sorry for her – well, gagging Daisy’s big mouth would just play right into that!” Ted probably shouldn’t have told Daisy he knew her plan, but I wasn’t sure what game they were playing with each other anyway. I could definitely tell Ted was winning.

“You have it all figured out, Sir,” Daisy’s sarcasm sounded mildly defeated and that thrilled Ted. “Have your fun. It won’t matter when things are over, Sir.”

Ted cooled slightly, despite her trying to goad him, and touched her nipple with his finger and then to his mouth. He spit it on the ground, “God-damn, your nips are leaking that fucking sour milk still?”

“I can’t help it Ted – I just had Punkin a few months ago – that’s why I have all this baby fat,” Daisy answered meekly.

Ted slapped his sister hard on the ass and corrected her, “You don’t call me Ted – you call me Sir or Master – that’s goes for all you assholes. I am your better, I am your boss, I am your God! And you are my fucking titty bitches – is that understood?”

Some of us mumbled under our breath. I was waiting for everyone else as I whispered, “Yes sir.”

“I can’t HEAR you-oo!” Ted’s cadence became more military in their bearing as he demanded we try again.

“Yes sir,” we managed almost in unison.

“Once more, but now say it like you have a set of balls instead of a pussy. What do you say to MEE-EEH?!” he drew out the word me like a drill sergeant on the parade field.

“YES SIR!” we all made the effort to give him a unified chorus of an answer.

Ted touched his sister’s leaking tits again and licked his finger “The cream is dripping down your chest and on to your belly - don’t you wish you could wipe it off?”

“Yes Sir,” Daisy answered sourly.

“How does it feel to wish?” Ted’s giggle reminded me of when comedians do an impersonation of George Bush. It was short and rapid like a machine gun. He smacked his sister on the tit, called her a cow, and told her to moo.

“What sir?” Daisy blinked.

“You heard me, I want to hear you moo – you give milk like a cow so fucking moo; or we’ll stand here all fucking night long,” Ted seemed quite serious about keeping us here. There were already people stepping out of their front doors to get a better look at the naked people standing in the middle of the street. These were people who might not have gone down to the Buckman and may have had no idea why were even like this. They seemed stunned and a few people threatened to call the cops but Ted ignored them while he waited for Daisy’s response.

“Moo, Sir?” Daisy placated Ted with a luke-warm moo.

“More from the diaphragm,” Ted smacked her belly, where the diaphragm would be, and insisted she really commit boldly to the moo. “Just one good one, I want to hear one good one.”

“MOOO-OOH!!” Daisy’s voice cracked half-way through her deep and booming moo. I thought she was going to cry.

Ted nodded that he was satisfied with her effort and told her, “That’s fine, you don’t have to address me as Sir when I tell you to moo. In the future though,” he twisted her chubby nipple between his finger, “if I tell you to moo and you hesitate, I’ll have someone bend you over and milk your tits dry – is that understood?”

“Yes Sir,” Daisy sounded pathetic. She wasn’t done fighting this – but she was currently out of any sort of fire to put up resistance to her brother. I heard Daisy curse her brother under her breath; but I was almost glad for her sake that Ted didn’t, because he would only happily prolong this naked spectacle to dress her down further.

“That’s better. Now, Daisy the moo-cow here, seems to think we are on the wrong fucking road. Who is in charge of navigating to your home?” Ted asked us collectively.

“YOU SIR!” we were getting better at answering as a group. The guys in the golf-cart didn’t answer him, but the rest of us did.

“The home that you all wrecked,” Ted walked in front of his sister, “shit so much you clogged the god-damned toilet!” He walked in front of Crystal and shouted in her face, “You didn’t pay the god-damned light bill because you had to get your fucking nails DID!”

Ted drew in a breath and started pacing slowly around us again. “How many languages do I speak Ryan?” Ted tried his intimidating voice on Ryan.

“Barely even one, Sir? And it’s Pussy-boy, not Ryan!” Ryan’s teenage voice couldn’t help but sound patronizing – even if he was trying to be genuine. There was really no way to tell.

“Wrong Pussy-boy!” Ted held up three fingers in front of Ryan’s face, “I speak THREE languages!” He counted each one down “God damned English, Fucking profanity, and REAL SHIT! I am speaking real shit to you right now. Can you hear the fucking difference?”

“Yes Sir!” Ryan barked out crisply.

“I saw one of you kick the other in the ass, and you know what I thought?” Ted asked us. It sounded rhetorical so no one answered.

“No one care to venture a guess?” Ted waited again. At this point, I heard some teenage giggles to my left and looked over there.

“Something over there more important than me, Ellen?” Ted moved quickly to where I was. I could feel instantly my stomach flip that it was my turn to get yelled at. I winced, “No sir- nothing more important than you, you are my god!” I hoped I didn’t sound as patronizing as Ryan.

“That’s better – you keep your pretty little eyes straight ahead – right there on Delilah’s nice lily-white ass.” Ted rubbed Delilah’s butt in a semi-circle and petted her.

It occurred to me Ted took an awful lot of liberties with Delilah, and he never really knew just how far she could be pushed or why she was even doing this. I wondered if he just didn’t care or he thought she was just some slut and it was okay to handle her as he pleased.

“You all just finished the day out. You should be happy – you shouldn’t be fighting each other and kicking each other. You need to work together as a TEAM. This is Team fucking TED. This is the best, god-damned, number one show the Buckman has ever fucking seen and you act like a bunch of dumb, hillbilly assholes.” Ted wiped his scruffy stubbly beard and paused.

He heard nothing except for giggling from those kids that were to my left. He turned real fast to glare at them and chased them away with “Get the fuck out of here – you all seen titty before; and if you ain’t then get on the god-damned Internet – you little shits!”

“Now where was I?” Ted returned to stalking like a caged panther back and forth, “I don’t give a fuck if someone is farting the Star Spangled Banner – is it any of y’all’s business to keep order and discipline?” he waited for an answer “Well?”

“No sir!” we answered.

“Do any of you run this shit?”

“NO SIR!” we managed together.

“No, you do not,” Ted agreed with us – slightly lowering his voice. “You do not run this shit.” He put his thumb to his chest and said, “I run this shit.”

Odd-Jobs chuckled and was about to remind Ted that we needed to get going and that we were blocking traffic when Ted said, “Fuck traffic – I have to do an attitude check and then we will move. These people can back their asses up and go the other way or watch these hot-ass, naked bitches - it’s a free country. Take their pick.”

Surprisingly Odd-Jobs didn’t over-rule Ted and let him continue.

“I don’t want any more squabbling between you. I want you girls,” Ted looked at Ryan and Lloyd, “and boys, to get along.” Ted addressed Savannah personally next, “Show me how you did that kick.”

Savannah started to lift her leg high and kick Cricket, and Ted stopped her and held her by the shin while she wobbled on one foot. He stood there for a moment and glared at her like a vengeful sea-god who was about to punish a fragile wooden sailing ship that had ventured out too far into his domain.

“You see this?” Ted rubbed his step-daughter’s smooth, tanned leg while she wobbled on the pivot of her legs and waited for some acknowledgement of whatever point he was making.

“Dammit people, DO try to pay attention,” Ted patronized us like we were just too stupid to grasp his point and explained, “I am not standing out here for my health giving you pointers. If it’s not too much to ask, I want to see you girls AND boys lifting your knees up high – high enough that your balls slap your chest Pussy Boy!” Ted looked in Ryan’s direction and Ryan nodded along.

“You think it’s funny to be standing out here naked with your precious balls hanging in the breeze?” Ted still clung to Savannah’s leg like it was the last lobster claw on the Chinese buffet as he addressed my so-called boyfriend.

“It is kind of funny, Sir – I mean, if you think about it,” Ryan wasn’t taking Ted’s angry rhetoric seriously at all, “We are completely naked, and now you want us to form some kind of kick line?”

“Kick line?” Ted let Savannah go and squarely kicked Ryan straight in the balls. I heard the thump and Ryan groan in agony. He slumped, but the way he was tied to the rest of us he remained in place. “That is your damned kick-line, pussy boy. You need to take me seriously.”

Ted had a habit of telling people they needed to take him seriously. I noticed people like Junior and Odd-Jobs didn’t have to tell people that – people just knew it.

“You are my little pony-bitches, and you are going to prance and trot your asses through this trailer park. The first step you are going to learn is a HIGH STEP,” Ted returned to Savannah who was naturally very limber and lifted her legs high to imitate the motions.

“When I tell you to high step in place, I want to see you all do it together, at the same fucking time! Let me see you – HIGH STUHP IN PLAY-ACE!” he barked a drill order.

“You are all ponies – think about it, visualize it right now. That’s what I want you cunts to be – ponies. You two in the back are my prized mares,” Ted said.

“Mares are females, Sir!” Ryan corrected him gleefully with obvious sarcasm.

“That’s what I said,” Ted grinned at the obvious insult he had just delivered, “You two are my prized mares like all the other thoroughbreds I have in this line.” Ted got a chuckle out of that before grabbing Cricket with a pleased look on his face “Look at this one. Cricket is REALLY doing good!”

“Really, sir?” Cricket sounded pleasantly surprised.

“Oh abso-fucking-lutely,” Ted assured her with a sadistic tone, “You’ve got the horse-face completely down and with those buck-teeth you look like you could eat an apple through a fence!”

“That isn’t very nice, sir!” Cricket pouted, but continued to prance in step.

“I am not supposed to be nice,” Ted patronizingly talked to her like she was a small child, “I am not Uncle Ted. I am your stable master and you are my pony. You get it?”

“Yes Sir,” Cricket didn’t sound like she really understood and was disappointed.

“Then whinny for me,” Ted grabbed her chin and made her look directly at him. He repeated himself and insisted she make a horse noise.

“Heeeehhaaaaaaaaawww,” Cricket’s whinny was surprisingly spot-on like a horse.

“Very, very good,” Ted left her alone after that. I think just giving in to him was the best thing Cricket could do. I could see from the smug look on her face she was actually pleased with his reaction – as if she were the best at making horse sounds and now everyone else knew it.

We continued to march in place while Ted insisted we go higher and higher with our legs. “I want to see asses bouncing UP and DOWN and TITTIES bouncing side to side – or up and down – let’s see what you got.” Ted was watching us carefully to see that we were all in motion.

He began counting a drill marching cadence “Your loaf, your loaf, your loaf right loaf, your loaf, your loaf, your loaf right loaf. Pussy Boy – do you know what your left foot is?”

“I am sorry Sir, it sounds like you are saying loaf? Like a loaf of bread.” Ryan’s acerbic wit was hitting a nerve and when Ted threatened to kick him in the balls again Ryan began to step in time with the rest of us.

“You know it was funny kicking you in the balls,” Ted asked Ryan if he thought he could handle three kicks to the balls for five dollars tomorrow?

“The first kick almost killed me, Sir!” Ryan sounded like he was quite serious as we continued to march in place.

“These pretty girls,” Ted put his arms around me, “like your girlfriend here, are out there spreading what they have and getting spanked on the pussy, the asshole, the titty, and all for about twenty dollars – twenty, thirty, sometimes fifty times. Now, do you have a pussy as pretty as your girlfriend?” Ted asked rhetorically.

Ted grabbed me roughly as if he really owned me. He bent me over so that Ryan could see the fullness of my pussy from behind and began to finger my pussy lips. He was goading Ryan and tormenting him by fingering me while we marched in place. If Ted had a point it was to embarrass Ryan. I was at least glad that because Ted was so awkward and clumsy at finger fucking me I wasn’t dripping wet and gooey. I tried to smile and pretend it was all part of the show; and when I looked over my shoulder I could see Ryan wasn’t watching Ted’s fingers – he was looking right at me.

“No, nothing as pretty as that; but I could duct tape my balls between my legs and make a mangina, sir.” Ryan may have been trying to be defiant and courageous but, due to his teenage sarcasm and lack of sincerity, it came across like a punk kid being a smart-ass. Ted kicked him squarely in the balls again. Ryan grunted this time,but not nearly as much as the first time when the wind got knocked out of him.

“Son, don’t try my fucking patience, I have toilet paper rolls that have lasted longer than my patience.” I could almost sense that Ted was trying to invoke some of the country-wisdom of Junior and getting it wrong. It was kind of funny to see Ted puff up his chest and strut around like he was the King of all he surveyed.

“That one wasn’t that bad,” Ryan choked and sputtered, trying to hide the obvious pain and discomfort from another kick from Ted. I didn’t dare look behind me at what Ted was doing to Ryan. The cord attached to all of us was pulled taut as Ted kicked him another time between the legs.

“Trap, Trap, Trapezoid, Sir!” Ryan sounded surprisingly spry. He managed to catch Ted’s foot between his legs this time. He was hopping up and down and smiling. I really wished he would just let Ted “win” because it only seemed to incense Ted to keep trying to make a point.

“Let my foot go, and keep high stepping!” Ted demanded angrily. Ted could have bullied and tormented Ryan further but I think the fact he wasn’t getting through to Ryan and Ryan had stood up to him, probably convinced Ted to save face and just leave him alone – for now.

“Tomorrow – we’ll see how many trap-trap-trapannoyeds or whatever the fuck you called them you are going to call when I hang a sign around your neck! And you know what it will say?” Ted asked.

“Free trapezoids, Sir?” Ryan was having fun being a smart ass while he high stepped.

“No, it will goddamned say three kicks to the balls for five dollars!” Ted assured him.

“I kick them in the balls for five dollars, or they kick me in the balls for five dollars, Sir?” Ryan purposely acted stupid just to get Ted’s goat.

“You’ll see – you’ll see, Now wait until I get in the fucking golf cart and let’s get going!” Ted promised him. Despite the fact that Ryan had seemed like an arrogant, little teenage punk that might have been trolling on one of my brother’s Xbox live video games to the other players in some shooter – I was actually proud he stood up to Ted and won.

Ted sounded a little out of breath as he got back in the golf cart. He announced, “Okay, my little show-ponies, let’s get this show on the road! YAW!” and slashed out with his

wicked fishing cane-pole whip, urging us forward to high step march in front of the golf-cart like we were pulling it down the road.

I heard laughter from kids on the side of the road as we passed by. A little Mexican boy mocked me and pointed a finger, “That one is from Cherry LAW-AWN, look at the rich bitch now-ow!”

“Hey, I am from Union County – does that count for anything?” Ryan answered the boy gleefully as if he were hoping for some recognition.

“Fuck you too rich-boy!” the kid flipped Ryan a bird.

“Okay, but you’ll have to talk to Ted about that – he is the boss!” Ryan promised with a big smile on his face as if he was enjoying the back and forth. “Just come to the pool tomorrow and ask for pussy-boy!”

“Shut up, Pussy Boy!” Ted insisted very dryly.

“Shutting up, Sir!” Ryan’s answer was the energetic, annoying and completely patronizing – but he did stop talking.