Chapter 30

Serendipity Park – Georgia
As told by Emily

“If I am being honest, I feel guilty about bouncing the bean bag off your face to get it into the bucket. Sorry about that,” I chuckled my apology.

Neither mom nor I were ever good at giving or accepting apologies so it felt weird apologizing to her. I think she saw apologies as a sign of weakness, even when someone apologized to her. I also suspect that what few apologies she ever made were just a way to get someone to shut up about something she did wrong without her ever really meaning what she was saying.

My mom laughed and said that after the week, she’d had, that had only tickled. “Don’t even think twice about it, Miss Emily. You gave me ten points and we were there as target practice. Wait until you see the next event we have to do for lunch. Anal ring toss,” she laughed.

I laughed too. My mother had breezily accepted my apology and told me it was not a big deal.

“You really do seem like you have changed,” I observed.

“Trust me, inside, I am still a rotten, catty, conniving bitch. I have just found a way to restrain her from acting out and making a bigger mess of my life than she already has, Ma’am,” she admitted.

I insisted that people don’t really change. They only get better at hiding who they truly are.

“You are right about that, and normally I’d agree. I am not going to come out of this training cured of my sassy nature. I’ll always be a manipulative cunt at heart, Ma’am. All this training does, is take away my weapons - the claws I use to hurt people who don’t deserve it. The sharp teeth I use to chew people up and spit them up. They’re weapons I use to hurt myself and others around me. The discipline has to be harsh to really put and keep me in my place. I know that probably doesn’t make sense to you. It didn’t to me, until I started to accept that I exist to serve and obey.”

I said it made sense to me. It gave me some food for thought to chew on anyway. I believed my mother believed what she said was true. I personally wasn’t sure if her ideas were true or not, though.

My mom had a question or me. She was only supposed to talk to me when I spoke to her or if instructed by Mike or Jessie to tell me something. I had given her express permission to freely have a conversation with me now. She still insisted on calling me Ma’am or Miss Emily, but other than that, we were talking like two normal people who just happened to be naked in a campground.

“Do you really hate me for wanting to improve myself, Ma’am?” she asked.

At first I didn’t answer her question. I wanted to make a joke that the only improvement might be that if she ever got kidnapped she would not be afraid of being tied up. I decided now was not the time for jokes. This was one of those rare moments I could let my guard down a little. It was just me and my mother and I decided to be straight with her – as straight as I could be.

“What gives you the impression that I hate you?” I asked in response, surprised she could think that. Her asking if I hated her was like a slap in the face. How could she even THINK that?

“I dunno, the fact that you constantly shout out things to make me feel at home and then moo?” she replied with a wry grin.

“Hey, that was clever,” I beamed with pride at my joke and apologized for saying that too.

“Oh, yeah, sure. I had to stop myself from laughing,” she assured me in a deadpan voice. “I would have said the same thing if I were you but I probably would have squealed like a pig and oinked,” she admitted.

I told her that I had thought about calling hogs and nearly said, “Here piggy, piggy, soooo-weeee.”

She laughed but refused to let it go. She really was worried I’d come to hate her and it was clear the thought was consuming her from the inside.

“You know I love you, Mom. I’ve just never had to say it before,” I replied in a quiet voice. I looked her in the eyes, mine a little glassy. I really had never had to say that to her before. It had always been unnecessary. I knew she loved me and I assumed she’d ALWAYS know I loved her too.

Having to actually say it out loud had always seemed to me like it meant I needed to convince myself of it too. Like saying to myself, ‘it’s going to be okay’, was necessary to help me believe it really WAS going to be okay. Like I was admitting a weakness that had no place in my life. Yet I found out at that moment that sometimes the best stuff is NOT left unsaid. It felt pretty good telling my mom I love her.

My mom choked up a little and told me she loved me too. She thanked me for telling her this time. “I didn’t want you to think I abandoned you. I don’t have parental authority any longer, but I still have parental concern. That’s something that cannot be revoked,” she admitted.

I knew that she hadn’t abandoned me. I’d never doubted it for a second. Maybe I had felt like she’d cut me out of the loop one her ‘biggest scam ever’ and resented her a little, but I’d NEVER thought she’d abandoned me. I joked about the fact that after all, I HAD been dragged along on this crazy adventure with her.

“Has it been hard to accept all the changes that we’ve made to how we are living, Miss Emily?” my mom asked.

“Barely an inconvenience,” I joked. My mom frowned. She knew I used humor to deflect from having to answer real questions. “I am leading you like a pony around a campground. It does seem pretty weird,” I answered truthfully.

“Would it help if I stomped my foot and whinnied like Pony Doris, Ma’am?” my mom offered me a smirk. She whinnied and stomped her foot without further thought.

“Do you get into being a pony? Does it feel real?” I asked her.

“No, Ma’am. At first, I thought this was some kind of twisted roleplaying game where I just had to act like a horse,” my mom said. I laughed because I had made the same observation earlier. “The more I started working in tandem with my sister, walking on lunge-lines and doing maypole training, the more I realized that the hard work was true discipline training. Being naked and dressed like a pony is humility training. Pulling a cart with someone in it is pleasing others and I’ve really started to appreciate all the creature comforts I gave up when this started, Ma’am. So in that respect I am getting into it but I haven’t started thinking typical horsey thoughts,” she smiled.

I mentioned Pony Barbara and how she seemed to get off on all of the attention. “She doesn’t seem humble at all,” I observed.

“Not everyone trains the same way or for the same reasons. I can assure you that the attention I’ve been getting has not been the same as hers, Ma’am,” my mother assured me.

We talked a little about Master Mike and what I thought of him. I joked about him and said that as perverts go, he seemed like a decent one. I said that I didn’t mind her having a boyfriend like him.

“He isn’t my boyfriend, Ma’am,” my mom corrected me gently, reminding me that he already had a wife.

“Being married never stopped you from calling a guy your boyfriend before,” I insisted but mom quickly corrected that misconception too by reminding me that it had only happened once and she’d dropped the guy like a hot potato when she found out. She’d been pissed, too. She felt like she had been played and she was the one who was supposed to be DOING the playing.

“Well what about the married men you fuck for money?” I challenged her. “In a way, they’re playing you too yet you allow it.” I said with a self-satisfied smirk, thinking I’d backed my mother into a morel corner with that question.

“They get something from me that they’re not getting at home. Think of me as fast food. You drive up, place your order and eat your food. No waiting, no foreplay, no commitments. Once you’re done, you discard the trash. Sometimes these guys go home and fuck their wives too, as if I was the snack they don’t need to tell their wives they had before arriving home to have a dinner she’s lovingly prepared.”

I accepted that but I had a point I wanted to make. “Theoretically, he is your master, but if he is fucking you and raising me, then isn’t he basically my step-dad or something?” I asked.

My mom said that I could probably look at it that way if it helped make sense of my place in the house. “I think you should talk with him about it if you are confused, Ma’am. I can’t tell you what to call him, but I think he would be flattered that you thought of him as a step-dad,” she said.

“He shouldn’t. All of your step-dads were drunk, perverted losers,” I said. My mom had given me a pretty good understanding of why before this ever began, she was still single and wouldn’t settle for just any loser. It was rooted in a general dislike of the men her mother accepted into their lives as potential step-fathers for her.

“I think for Mike it means something different to be a father. He considers you family, and I know that reality may not have set in yet, but I think you consider him family too,” she said.

I thought of Mike as the guy fucking my mom who gave me money and was driving me to Florida to go to Walt Disney World. I hadn’t thought too much more about our relationship because I’ve been expecting things to fall apart and I’d learned my lesson about getting attached, years ago. My mom told me she had predicted all of that and said that in time I might see him differently.

My mom asked me about my new friends. She picked up on the fact that I really liked Courtney, which was a serious embarrassment to me, Courtney being a girl and all. “It is obvious in your body language. You get all pie-eyed and smile when she is around,” my mom observed.

She knew me better than anyone. I blushed because I didn’t know I looked like a thirsty puppy when I was around her and that it was my own mother who had to clue me in. I wanted to confide in her about how confused I was feeling. I’d always thought of myself as ramrod straight, with a hint of flex I could use to tease guys. I chickened out. I still had things to chew on myself before I turned to someone else for answers. My mother didn’t pry and instead, changed the subject slightly.

She thanked me for being nice to Jessie. “I didn’t know I had been,” I smirked. I had no idea why she thought I’d gone soft on that dweeb and I was pretty clear in assuring her I hadn’t intended to be nice to him.

“You have, though. You could have been totally bratty and yet you’ve even hung out with him,” she observed wryly. She really had no idea what was going on in the real world.

“Jessie kind of invites himself,” I shrugged, thinking I was setting her straight. I said that since she started doing what he told her to, he HAD changed for the better, though. “He has developed all this swagger and confidence. It really pisses me off sometimes,” I chuckled that I could no longer easily put him down with a quick insult. The funny thing is that didn’t seem to make me frustrated like I’d imagined it would.

“Would you have changed like Master Jessie if Master Mike had given you authority like his?” she wondered aloud.

What a monumental mistake it would have been to give ME authority! I told her that and said that I was offered a chance to learn to be an apprentice Mistress, but I turned it down even though it would have meant more money at the end of the two years.

“You like money! Why did you say no?” she giggled. I’d surprised her and I liked that.

“I LOVE money. I said no because it sounded like work. I get paid for doing NOTHING. Not a thing,” I reminded her then added, “Also, this all seemed so creepy and disgusting and honestly, I didn’t think you’d last half as long as you have,” I admitted. I didn’t admit that I also didn’t know how she would feel about me pushing her buttons for money. For ANY reason.

“No offense, but I don’t think I’d want you giving me blowjobs either, I quipped.

My mom said that I couldn’t offend her any longer. “The fact that you are having this honest conversation with me is more than I could have hoped for. I was just curious, Ma’am,” she replied.

“Did you WANT me to be your Mistress?” I asked. It seemed like my mom was suggesting she wanted me to take a leadership role in her life. The thought kind of scared me because even though I love her, I had absolutely no doubt I would be completely corrupted by power. I’d have been a merciless overseer when the mood suited me, but most of the time, I would have just ignored her like a toy on the shelf that I’d forgotten about. In other words, mom would have become my stress ball to use when I needed it and to toss aside when I didn’t.

She laughed and said she didn’t want Jessie to be her Master at first either. “I was really mean to him all the time, before this began. Even when we were getting ready to leave Jerry’s trailer, I teased him and fucked with his head because I thought I’d never see him again,” she admitted.

“One last parting shot before you hit the high seas,” I guessed, realizing I would have done the same thing...

“Exactly,” she agreed. “Once I was told he would be a Master, I was worried. I thought he couldn’t handle the responsibility, and yet he’s proven he can. He’s been a real stickler,” she admitted.

“Yeah, Jessie can be anal-retentive sometimes,” I observed.

“Master Jessie is definitely anal EVERYTHING,” my mom laughed at her own joke. She said that it didn’t matter what she wanted, anyway. “If that was something you were interested in exploring and Master told me I had to obey you, then I would have,” she assured me as though she was still ready to do it.

“So if I told you to get down on the ground and eat grass like a horse, you would just do it?” I pointed to a mound of grass.

I saw my mom have difficulty trying not to roll her eyes. I could tell she didn’t want to look at me directly when she answered the question. She blushed a little and said, “If you were given that authority, then I would obey your commands,” she ground out while trying to sound casual about it.

It was freaky to think about being the boss of my mom. I’d said no to Mike’s offer for a few reasons but I’d never wondered how she would have reacted if I’d said yes. Having her ask now if I would have done it, made me pause. She ate my cousin’s ASS and licked his cum off the floor. Did she really think I might want to do those things with her too? Have her eat MY ass? Was she so committed to this that she’d really be willing to do all of the same things with me?

“Lucky you that I wouldn’t want it,” I said dismissively. I told her I could be very demanding but that I’d see training her as work and only do it when the mood hit me. Jessie had rules he had to adhere to. He had to get up every morning and follow certain guidelines to prepare the girls for their day. He had expectations that Mike had placed on his shoulders from the time he got up till he went to bed.

His responsibilities in managing my aunt and mother started at sunup and extended WAY past sundown and he took every one of them seriously while maintaining his sense of humor, fun and excitement that seemed to rub off on the girls. He seemed to be living for this and wouldn’t have it any other way. He’d even turned down opportunities to have a break! Not me. I didn’t want Mike riding my ass all day and lecturing me about doing what I was supposed to do.

My mom told me that Mike doesn’t ride Jessie’s ass at all. “He laid out the expectations and Jessie manages his own time. He makes sure it all gets done. But Mike certainly doesn’t micromanage him,” she said.

I didn’t understand how Jessie could be so motivated to stick with everything without someone constantly riding him. I told my mother that.

“That’s why I asked to be micromanaged, Ma’am. My time is constantly measured, and I am always being observed and evaluated. I am like you. I can’t just BE nice because I want to all the time. I can’t just stop being lazy without constant incentive. The constant reinforcement of my place has been really good for me. If either of them had been naturally lazy like me, this would NOT have worked even this long.”

My thoughts drifted to my aunt. “Do you think Chastity is getting anything out of this training?” I asked my mother if it had been necessary and beneficial to her as well.

“I’ve seen a side of Chastity that I didn’t know existed and she’d been my sister forever,” mom laughed. “She is stronger and more resilient than I ever realized. She seems to love submission, and honestly, if she wasn’t here, I might have reached the point of giving up many times already. I’ve literally had my pussy busted and there have been days when I wanted to quit. And I mean go out in a ball of fire, quit. Rage quit. But I look at my sister and get inspired. I think to myself that if she can keep it together and keep going, then so can I!”

I was shocked to hear it.

“Yeah, Titty gets off on this treatment but is she learning to be a better person or whatever?” I asked. I had pretended not to care what reasons my mother and aunt were in training, for long enough. I had felt it would be over soon anyway and if I ignored them, I wouldn’t have to deal with it. I had learned from hanging around with Stefan and Courtney to be more open minded and accepting.

My mom said that my sister had a lot of flaws but not nearly as many as her. “I think she never knew what she was capable of doing before this began. She’s had several offers to leave,” she said. My mom told me about a guy they met on the street who had offered to be her sugar daddy. He was going to put her up in a mansion and he would have paid to put Jessie and me in private school.

“Sounds like he was a dreamer who hardly had two pennies to rub together. No one with money picks up whores. Did you believe him?” I asked.

“Yes, ma’am, he had a nice car and showed us pictures of his house and gave us his business card,” she assured me. “He was totally legit.”

“She didn’t take him up on it?” I was puzzled.

“I was shocked as well. Chastity said he sounded too good to be true,” my mom agreed with me.