Idle Cunts Are the Devil's Tools - Cover

Idle Cunts Are the Devil's Tools

Copyright© 2018 by Mike McGifford

Chapter 9

BDSM Sex Story: Chapter 9 - PLEASE DO NOT READ IF HUMILIATION, BONDAGE OR INCEST AREN'T YOUR THING! This is my version of the continuing story begun by Cherry Nipples, called A Slap A Day. It's best to read her story first however this could be read as a standalone story if you prefer. Mother and her teen daughter - the ultimate bitches - learn that there is a way to redemption. They've agreed to a THREE YEAR training plan and it's just begun. The story is set in the Family Feud universe.

Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Fa/ft   Consensual   Slavery   Fiction   Fan Fiction   Incest   Daughter   BDSM   MaleDom   Humiliation   Spanking   Anal Sex   Exhibitionism   Oral Sex   Water Sports   Prostitution  

It dawned a grey and wet morning in Buckman County. Sunday is the day I traditionally slept in before getting busy with the housework and laundry. Having two girls living with me I no longer needed to worry about such mundane tasks, provided the actual chores were tightly supervised. Both Cherry and Berry were naturally lazy and would have only opened their eyes, given their druthers, just in time for lunch.

I’d learned that lesson on morning one. I’d gone to bed and I’d left them with a promise that they’d make up the couch and floor beds I’d organized for them to sleep on. You might have thought I’d let them share my bed – you’d be totally wrong. I sprawl and I wasn’t about to allow anyone to limit my sprawling in my own bed. So on that first morning I’d come out of my room and they were sitting on the couch, with Berry’s head against Cherry’s shoulder, both sound asleep. The television was on, spouting something in Spanish that I could neither understand nor care to. It turned out they’d been asleep for less than an hour and neither bed had been set up.

My solution to that was to make sleep less comfortable and getting up and about the highlight of their sleep time. Now they slept tied together in whatever arrangement amused me at the time. Come bedtime tonight, there’d be more options available to me – I’d purchased a dog cage yesterday at a yard sale, to the confusion of both girls. Berry thought we were going to get a puppy as well and she’d been delighted. The closest to allowing a puppy in the apartment would be to make Berry pretend to be one for my amusement. THAT seemed more feasible to me.

We’d been up since six. Cherry hadn’t known that the world existed before seven thirty at the earliest, prior to coming to live with me. She’d always half-heartedly shooed Berry off to the school bus and allowed her to stay home if she hadn’t had her shit together in time to make the seven forty five pickup time. Now the girls were finally getting used to being fully conscious by six on weekdays and seven on weekends. As a special treat, I allowed them coffee and a cigarette to finalize the wakeup process. This morning was one such morning. I even gave them special ‘creamer’ for their coffee, after they worked for it, of course. Neither of them really enjoyed coffee black and without sugar, the way I drank it.

This morning Berry got some practice in – she’d bitched and whined about being allowed to participate in the advanced training and I doubt she would have been such a nuisance if she’d known half of what it entailed. Taking my dick into her mouth after I’d used it in Cherry’s cunt had repulsed her however she’d made her decision and had to live with it. Spitting an equal amount of my ejaculate into two coffee cups had even been something I’d had to supervise. Berry would have put it all in her mom’s cup if I’d let her. As it was, I switched their cups afterwards anyway, so if Berry thought she’d gotten one over on me, she was probably mistaken.

Yesterday afternoon and last night had been an eye-opener for me. We’d left the emporium, gone to Vicki’s Secret and purchased a few items. Talk about the difference between a Victoria’s Secret store and the country knockoff version – there was no way one could be confused with the other. Victoria’s Secret catered to the young mother or executive female and Vicki’s Secret catered to the hooker, stripper or bull dyke, in about that order. They even had condom vending machines and an actual cigarette vending machine. I hadn’t seen one of those in years.

One thing that surprised me was the men’s waiting area – for men who have to take their women lingerie shopping yet don’t want to browse with their spouses. This waiting area, next to the curtained off change booths, had a bunch of mismatched chairs from a broken office swivel chair to a broken Lazy Boy recliner and one old kitchen chair that actually seemed to be in the best repair. And a small selection of pornographic magazines, with covers or pages missing. It’s like the owner had intended to create a mini man-cave for guys, yet only had a budget of five bucks. Maybe the porn magazines were to get the guys hard so that when they saw their wives or girlfriends modelling Vicki’s Secret lingerie, they could, ‘display’ their appreciation – whether or not the lingerie actually suited the spouse.

I didn’t have either Cherry or Berry bother with the changing booths. I mean the curtains didn’t close all the way anyway, so what was the point? A hand written sign on the wall had read, if you put panties next to your bare skin, you have to buy ‘em. Berry came to me totally grossed out, holding a pair of panties. She showed me, stretching out the crotch between her fingers, that the sign was regularly ignored. A thin dried, white residue testified to the fact that someone had worn them after having sex – then put them back on the shelf. I didn’t like the panties however I made her try them on, just to be a dick. Those panties were actually nicer on than off. We purchased them after haggling with the sales lady, who gave us fifty percent off for a total of two dollars and fifty cents.

I briefly wondered if Victoria’s Secret offered vibrators and dildos to go with their peekaboo bras and crotch-less panties like Vicki’s Secret did. I was pretty sure that was another difference – The whole set boxed up in China and sold here, ready to proudly present to your spouse at the next family birthday party. The thought had made me smile. Another probable difference was the edible undie selection. Actually a complete display including the 4XL versions for larger women. I cringed inside when I saw that.

After Vicki’s Secret, we went to the truck stop so Cherry could earn her keep. She was not impressed with my creativity for finding her customers. She tried telling me that my online advertisements would be enough to generate more work than she could handle. I disagreed. Cherry is pretty, however she seems to have an inflated self-opinion. She seemed to have it fixed in her mind that as soon as anyone saw the picture of her I’d posted online, they’d be tearing up highways to get to her or robbing banks to fund the experience. Cherry is, right now, a life support system for three cock holes and I had to remind her of that more than once. Then, as I parked my truck in such a way as to provide a little privacy later on, I had to put up with the PAIR of them moaning and whining when I announced that Berry would have to scout out and proposition potential Johns.

My thinking was fairly simple. Berry was a minor, so if she propositioned an undercover cop, it’d be easier for her to claim ignorance than if Cherry did. Anyway, there were already a few obvious prostitutes around, even though they were not even close to being in Cherry’s class – so basically with minimal risk, Berry was being given the opportunity to practice being nice to people without being pushy or snotty. If there’s one thing I know from being around so many job sites, it’s that trucker’s don’t put up with much shit.

The three of us sat at a table in the corner where I’d later be able to survey the entire room, as well as the back half of my truck, in case of trouble. There, after we spent a while reviewing the lot lizards, which to the uninformed, are what the local prostitutes are called. They seemed to be doing a brisk business and I wanted to get in on it before the business dried up. We quickly went over how transactions would be handled and what Cherry would have to submit to, as well as how many apologies they could each get for accepting what was requested of them. This wasn’t after all, going on within the safe confines of my apartment and I had a bitch to watch out for – well two of them. I didn’t want the customers marking Cherry up too much – knowing from personal experience how easy it was to get carried away with her.

At first I thought they could have any of her holes, then following a comment from Cherry, common sense took over. A customer balls deep in her asshole could pace himself and enjoy the experience indefinitely. That’d ruin her chances of making any real money. To offset that risk, we came up with two options. The first, and it turned out the most attractive to customers, was what I dubbed, ‘the long-distance blowjob’, after seeing an old pay phone on the back wall. For five dollars, a john could get the best oral of his life, however there was a time limit. Berry would be in charge of my wristwatch and she’d notify a customer if time was drawing to a close, like an operator over an old time long-distance call made from a pay phone. It’d be three minutes for five dollars, like back in the days before Berry had been born. Her job was to let the customer know when one minute was remaining, then thirty seconds, then do a countdown from ten to one, at which time the customer would either be done or would, by then have paid an additional five dollars for another three minutes of riding Cherry’s mouth.

The second option, priced way outside what I really thought Cherry could get away with charging, was fifteen minutes for fifty dollars for her pussy or a hundred for her ass, both with a little tit and butt slapping permitted and both with a quick blowjob to get them hard and ready. Not surprisingly, Cherry’s ass never felt a cock at the truck stop that evening and instead, kept its butt plug firmly installed. No one had a hundred bucks to blow on a fuck even though rough sex was encouraged.

Their first mark, as Berry so eloquently put it, was a middle-aged truck driver in a greasy bib coverall. He looked like he’d been on the road a few days without a shower. He had a twelve o’clock shadow about five days old and a twitch in one eyebrow that made him look a little like the original Doctor Spock from Star Trek. Part of me was feeling sorry that I’d put Berry in ‘charge’ of finding customers. As I sat at my table in that quiet corner of the truck stop diner, I wondered if Berry had picked that particular one guy as the worst out of a set of poor choices to get even with her mom for putting her in training too. I changed my mind about her choice when I saw her get his undivided attention after about oh, one second. He was what I’d call a desperate trucker. I was too far away to hear what she told him or his response, however after maybe three seconds, he was already reaching for his wallet and leering at the teen.

Berry took the John out to the bed of my truck, where her mom squatted naked except for her heels. From my vantage point, all I could see were her heels and calves in the distance. When the John walked around the back of my truck, I did see expressions of shock, surprise and delight vie for dominance. There, they went over Cherry’s, ‘menu’ of services. The first guy got his load swallowed for five dollars, with maybe a half minute to spare. I could just picture Cherry crowing that she was a fantastic dick sucker for making him nut so fast. To be sure Cherry didn’t begin to suffer from overconfidence, when she came inside I quickly reminded her that this was her goal – and to keep her from getting a swollen head.

Between customers there were periods of intense inactivity. I probably could have made Cherry spend the whole evening squatting outside waiting for her next customer, however I quickly found out that by letting her put her costume back on and come inside, Berry and her were quite entertaining, in more ways than one. They sat at the table and I did random inspections to ensure there was no money secreted about their persons. It may have been a touch humiliating for them, to be patted down and fingered in their pussies every time they came to the table, yet if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have found the ten dollar ‘tip’ Berry had put away and forgotten all about. It was tucked carefully between her skirt’s waistband and her skin, in the small of her back.

“You see, this just proves that you must be wearing too much clothing if you forget that you’ve tucked away cash. It won’t happen again or you’ll be doing your job without the luxury of a skirt to go with your blouse, okay Berry?” I didn’t know if I’d dare actually making her work the diner bottomless however the threat itself was enough. The other benefit to them coming inside was that they were verbally entertaining too. They joked a lot between tricks, mostly about the deeply perverted requests that Cherry got.

“That one guy wanted me to fart in his mouth!” Cherry said at one point.

“Did you?” Berry asked, astonished.

“What do you think?” Cherry said as she pantomimed covering her mouth, sticking out her tush and blowing a fart in someone’s mouth with her ass.

“Oh that is so...” Berry stopped herself before she said something less than complimentary about one of her betters. At least I hoped that’s why she’d trailed off. I WANTED to believe that, anyway.

On one ‘break’, I delighted Cherry with a surprise treat. Well I was trying to surprise and delight them both, however Berry wasn’t as impressed as Cherry. Cherry had just topped the two hundred dollar mark, mostly in six minute increments and I felt her jaw and throat could probably use some soothing, so I purchased a glass of wine from a guy quietly selling them at another table. Actually to get the visualization correct, picture an old black man with a purple suit, white shoes and a matching purple bowler hat, including feather, selling Dixie cups of cheap wine.

Cherry and Berry were outside seeing to their latest customer so I tried it myself. I spat the contents back into the cup. Damn that was cheap wine. Probably the five dollar gallon boxed stuff. It was definitely potent though. I wondered momentarily if I was going to get drunk from sniffing it too long. I thought I was doing Berry a favor by purchasing a can of the Pepsi Throwback she’d enjoyed when I’d first met her, however when I presented them with their treats, Berry got too busy pouting to enjoy it and politely complained that it was not fair that I hadn’t gotten HER a cup of that cheap wine as well. Cherry eventually gave her a sip of hers, which I thought was really sweet. Maybe she was just tired of seeing Berry pout.

Most of the truckers at the truck stop didn’t give a damn about giving Cherry a physical correction while they fucked her. Well when I say most, I mean a fifth of her fucks. She had four customers each with fifty dollars to spend and three of them were perfect ‘gentlemen’ as they fucked her outside in the wide open, behind my truck, at the truck stop. The last was later. The only real exception was the one guy who paid extra to have Berry hold the base of his dick in one hand and cup his balls in the other, while he went to town on Cherry’s pussy and roughly mauled her tits.

I knew about the extra fee because I’d demanded it for involving Berry in the actual sex. Berry had run her little mini-skirt covered ass back inside to tell me about the man’s offer and I’d wandered out to supervise. The guy was rough and mean looking – I did wonder briefly if I could take him should the need arise, however he was friendly enough and just out to get laid. In essence, he was doing Cherry a favor at a cost to himself. If I’d known why beforehand, I wouldn’t have charged extra. He had the longest dick I’d ever seen, making Mule’s look like a kid’s instead of a horse cock on a teen. I briefly wondered if this were Mule’s dad. I didn’t ask.

Berry actually rolled her eyes at me after he’d finished and moved on when I told her to lick her fingers clean. They were covered in mom-slime and a little cum. That earned her an immediate correction with the paddle before we trooped inside, which showed her both the error of her ways and that there was a major difference between a paddle and a spatula.

A little after nine, Berry stumbled upon a comparative goldmine. One of her potential johns refused to fuck outside and declared he’d rather pay the shower-room fee for a private, ‘session’. I hadn’t even known there were shower facilities available although once that guy suggested it, the next five customers agreed to the ‘VIP surcharge’ without complaint. I rented the stall for a further half hour and Cherry serviced them all on the same ticket. It certainly made inspecting the girls for hidden cash and contraband, a lot easier too.

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