Chapter 24

My radar had gone off a few times throughout the putt-putt, a game it turned out I was awful at, especially when trying to play the ‘standard’ way. On the other hand, I was fairly proud of not only being able to hit the ball after more practice at using my ass to hold the club, but I’d somehow gotten incredibly lucky a couple of times.

I didn’t want to show up my family by being better at the game while playing with a club up my tailpipe than they were with two hands and an eye on the ball, but I had no such qualms about being competitive with Jane and those girls. So I ignored my embarrassment and voluntarily played shots using my butt to hold the putter in order to improve my score over Jane’s.

Jane really played up the fact that she was horrible at the game too but she did it in a way that made it okay for her to hide her face in Ken’s chest after a particularly bad swing. I know she was NOT embarrassed by her poor ability. She was simply doing everything she could to push my buttons while testing Kendrick - and maybe me, too. He never pushed her away and a couple of times I caught her peeking at me while she giggled and ‘hid’ her face against Ken’s chest.

She was testing the waters with my husband and I think the tests were more to gauge MY reaction to her acts of intimacy rather than to see if Ken would reject her.

What I mean is, I’d encountered Jane acting intimately with Kendrick altogether too much, and it had been Chris who’d ensured I couldn’t put myself between my sex-starved neighbor and my husband, by doing his best to monopolize my attention.

At one point, he shamelessly crouched down near me so he could look up my ridiculously short skirt and inspect the movement of my butt cheeks while I held the club. I was sure that other patrons knew he was seeing my cheeks from that angle and were disgusted in me for not putting a stop to what his eyes were seeing.

Another time, he ‘suggested’ I try using my pussy instead of my asshole. His words were clear to anyone close enough to hear, that I wasn’t simply wedging the putter between my thighs but instead, actually using my butt hole to accommodate the putter’s handle.

Using my pussy didn’t work out. Chris simply declared that I needed to do more exercise with those muscles and develop more control. I would have HAD more control if my pussy hadn’t been leaking like a faucet but the worst part was hearing Christian remind me to clean the handle off after each swing, no matter who heard him or which hole I’d swung with.

Chris never put any effort into improving Jessica’s game, although she seemed to be a natural at it and Christian’s help would more likely have messed her up. Each time I opted to swing using my butt, even if it wasn’t as accurate as Jessica was naturally, I felt like I’d bested my daughter. She didn’t take a single swing at a golf ball using HER butt!

Still, every time I did it, the looks I got from strangers made me want to die of shame. Or orgasm. I never truly decided which, the whole game. Basically I had Christian as a coach for the whole time we played, despite the fact Chris himself was not even any good at putt-putt.

All I could do was my best, while not embarrassing Chris too much with my failures while watching helplessly as Jane flirted shamelessly with my husband.

At one point, Jane physically took his hand and put it on her butt, insisting that he move from one hole to the next, escorting her that way. No I don’t mean one sex hole. I mean one putt putt hole. It was an eighteen hole course, so there was a lot of butt-holding and Kendrick quickly got with her program and started doing it without her ‘help’. Jane had to know it was driving me crazy. And it was hard for me to keep my mouth shut about it, but I did.

A lot of my mind was occupied with running payback scenarios, most of which revolved around how I would get even once we won the competition against her and Elizabeth.

That there would be a competition was easily agreed to. It seemed both Jane and Elizabeth were eager for such. Her friends even agreed to play some of them, although they reserved the right to refuse any game they felt uncomfortable playing. Ideas for individual games within the upcoming competition were bandied around as our group progressed through the putt-putt course.

There was about a fifty-fifty split between games that were flat out sexual, like ‘guess the cock’ where Jane suggested they’d have to match whatever cock was inside them with the male to which it belonged and games that would be more of a spectator sport - that is games where the contestants attempted a challenge against the other players - like most expeditiously moving a load of something from point A to point B. There’d be a sexual undertone to games like that too, of course.

Somewhere along the line, Jane had become the spokesperson for herself, Elizabeth and her three friends, while Kendrick was the advocate for Jessica and me. WE weren’t even being given a say in what Kendrick suggested. Jane didn’t seem to notice, or maybe it was that she didn’t care. She just accepted at face value that Ken was going to be our team ‘coach’.

I guess I should go back to the ‘guess the cock’ game I just noted. It had been one of Jane’s suggestions. She made it clear she wanted to sample Ken, the slut that she is. She said she expected Kendrick, Danny and Christian to all participate. As a concession, she said she’d invite her own son to play as well, although she admitted he’d probably decline.

There was never a mention of her own husband playing. I think that was because he was ignorant of her extracurricular bedroom activities. She did say that if the males in my family would play, she’d provide three males too. I correctly guessed it’d be boys from school, courtesy of Elizabeth.

Ten challenges were agreed to, including a couple that would be particularly humiliating, and Jane showed how fearless she could be by suggesting that Ken come up with two additional challenges that could be a surprise to all players. Danny offered to get with Chris and Kristina to dream up a thirteenth, tie breaking challenge in case it was needed. This would be a much-of-a-day event!

It’s worth noting that all these challenges were agreed to before stakes, or consequences, were even brought up. When it came to that part, Jane’s suggestion floored me. She was willing to bet herself and her daughter against me and Jessica spending a whole month in a whorehouse over the Summer. Like living and working there, all proceeds to the winner. She knew someone who knew someone who owned a house in the suburbs that was an actual house of ill-repute. If I lost, I’d sleep in the same bed that I’d use to fuck guys for money.

Luckily, Kendrick nixed that suggestion citing the fact that Jessica and I were only agreeing to be their sex slaves for a month, had already started that month and that we had to be given the opportunity to back out of our deal with our family at any time. His counter-proposal was that the loser serve the winners for a whole week at the winner’s home, under any conditions the winners sought to impose.

I could tell that Jane weighed the option of suggesting a reduced time in a whorehouse against Ken’s idea. I don’t know how I knew that. I just could almost see her mind working through the possibilities.

“It’d have to be a week when Tom is away on business. James ... well James is James. I don’t think he’d care either way. But any house guest I have for a week will be naked all week, and it’d be kind of difficult to explain to my husband.

“If our girls lose, then I’d want to be able to come over and see Drip each day. Conjugal visits, as it were,” Ken shot back. He’s such a sweetheart. Even if we didn’t have sex on each visit, he’d want to spend time with me as much as I would want to spend time with him.

“Every other day,” Jane countered.

She eventually negotiated a deal where the winner would be in complete control of the loser for a week and that the week would have to start the following Monday. It was practically Tuesday now, so that’d give us five days to prepare for the competition, hold it Sunday while her husband was away all day playing golf, then the loser would begin their week under the thumb of the winner once Jane’s husband Tom, was away on business from Monday morning till the next Sunday at four in the afternoon as Tom’s flight got in at five.

Other than that, the only rules regarding what the losers would be expected to submit to would be that there would be no permanent or even semi-permanent damage done to the losers while in the care of the winners and that the losers would be subjected to a LOT of sex. It sounded to me like Jane was setting herself up to lose so that she could have her way with my husband.

But she had Tiffany, Suzanne and Dianne visiting for ten days. She wouldn’t intentionally lose while they were visiting, would she? It had already come out that the very reason they were staying was because Tom would be gone. They’d planned a multi-day hen party that would go from that Monday morning till Wednesday, when they left, giving Jane time to recuperate before her husband got home again.

I mean it was a slam dunk in my mind that with my family’s help, there’d be no way for us to lose. But even once Jessica and I won, we were still slated to be sex slaves for the duration of the winner’s week, so we wouldn’t be making decisions about how to supervise our competition-losing neighbors’. If Jane thought that she was willing to give up her hen party in exchange for a week being unleashed on three horny men, she had another think coming.

I just needed to do two things. First, influence my family to make it especially hard on Jane and Elizabeth as payback for the way Jane was hanging off Ken and secondly, between Jessica and I, ensure that Ken, Danny and Chris were too worn out to be interested in fucking the neighbors too much. They could have all the sex they wanted between themselves, for all I cared. Jessica was loving Danny’s attention, and I was already planning on monopolizing Ken and Christian.

On the way home after mini-golf, I took a deep breath and voiced my request. It wasn’t an easy thing to ask, and I had carefully weighed the pros and cons of putting my request out there. Jessica was once again upside down on top of me in the minivan, eating my pussy while I was supposed to be licking hers.

I started out just asking permission to speak. Ken told me I could as long as I didn’t neglect my task. My oldest daughter’s pussy was right in my face with her thighs wrapped around my head. It would have been more difficult to neglect THAT particular task than to breathe. I still had no actual interest in women, but I’d been told to lick pussy, and I was doing it. So between slurps that went from near butt hole to her clitoris, (I couldn’t bring myself to taste her unwiped ass) I gathered my courage and spoke.

“You do plan on ensuring we win, don’t you, Sir?” I asked. I was very aware that from Ken’s perspective, if we lost, he wouldn’t be particularly inconvenienced for a week even if not a single dish in the house got washed or floor vacuumed.

“When was the last time I set you up for failure, Drip? Of course you’re going to win! As long as you want it enough, that is.”

“Thank you, Sir. I was hoping you’d say that. Then I have a request,” I girded myself to continue. It would be even harder than it had been when I’d asked Ken to allow me to be a slut.

“What’s your request, Drip?” Christian asked before Ken could. Chris inserting himself into Ken and my discussion only made it harder for me. We usually had intimate discussions in private, but I had to keep going since my request would affect the whole family anyway, I decided.

“Some of those challenges you came up with, Sir...” I started, then petered off hoping Chris and Ken would finish the thought for me.

“What about them? You and Fart box have been doing that sort of stuff in the yard for weeks now. It’s why I suggested them. You’ve at least got a foot up on the competition!” Ken was being defensive. I could hear it in his voice that he was saddened or maybe irritated that I was questioning his contribution to the bet.

“Je ... Fartbox, yes, maybe so, Sir. All I’ve been doing is taking naps in the backyard. I umm ... I need ... That is I could really use some help preparing for next Sunday. I don’t want to be that girl who lets you all down,” I admitted. I knew I had to be cherry red from embarrassment. My ears literally burned in shame and I was glad of Jessica’s thighs pressing against them.

“Wouldn’t that be cheating, though, Drip?” Julie asked. “Liz and Jane haven’t done any of those things either, not to mention her friends.”

I was going to answer but I didn’t get a chance. Kristina spoke and I knew better than to talk over her.

“Yeah, but her friends aren’t actually competing, which I’m thankful for. Can you imagine Suzanne running around the backyard in the nude with all that fat flopping around? She’s gross!” Kristina reminded her friend.

“I don’t know. Sure she’s chunky, but she’s still cute even if her tits are small. I bet Christian’s looking forward to seeing more of her fat ass, but more importantly, Liz and that Asian chick with the cum-streak in her hair,” Danny piped up. “They’re going to do some of the events, so you may as well get used to the idea, sis.”

“You mean Dianne,” Christian volunteered. He sounded as though he liked to say her name out loud. He actually sounded like he particularly enjoyed calling her Dianne instead of miss or Ms. Dianne, as we’d raised him to refer to adults.

“You’re nasty, Sir Danny,” Jessica giggled from between my legs. “It’s called a feature highlight and it’s pink, not cum-colored, unless you’re imagining what cum looks like after fucking her while she’s on the rag,” my daughter added, showing that she was also following the conversation. My daughter was acting particularly nasty these days, I admitted to myself.

“Shut up and eat! No one’s talking to you,” Danny said, leaning over from the passenger seat in front and popping his sister on her bare ass. That pushed her pussy into my face even more. She squealed and I felt it in my pussy. Daaaaamn it felt good. Quite tasty, too, I realized when somewhat bitter juice filled my mouth. I hoped Jessica hadn’t peed a little. THAT would have been gross, considering I liked it.

“I imagine those girls are already working on a strategy to win,” Ken said from the driver’s seat. “They want their competitors to win as much as we want ours to. I think they’ll be in their own backyard while you guys are at school tomorrow and maybe the rest of the week, practicing the events. Well, we should too. Drip’s got a point though. She might need extra work,” Ken concluded.

It was surreal having my family discuss this as if it were a football game, not a mini sex-Olympics. Then discussing it - and me - as if I was just a part of the minivan’s furnishings. It was difficult for me to accept, yet welcome in a way. All I’d had to do was ask for help, and my family was rallying around me. Sort of.

“Tell you what, Drip. You’ll spend the night tonight in your new cage,” Ken said as if he’d offered me a wonderful prize for being me. I didn’t see how THAT would help me. “Tomorrow while the kids are at school I’ll take some time and run you through the challenges. When the guys get home, we’ll see where we stand, or kneel in your case,” he laughed.

“I call dibs on Fartbox!” Danny chimed in as soon as he heard where I’d be sleeping. Ken knew exactly what Danny meant.

“Sorry son, not this time. Drip needs to get into the proper mindset for tomorrow, and I’m not giving up a warm body sleeping next to me again, even for you. If Drip exceeds expectations tomorrow, she’ll share my bed again tomorrow night. That’ll free Fartbox up for you, but I want her to experience the cage at least a few nights this week and you’re used to sleeping alone. If you get her tomorrow night, it’ll be a one time deal.”

“Daaaad,” Danny whined, reminding me that he really was a normal teen in many ways. I think Danny had been feeling a little too grown up lately, expecting to have everything his way. Ken had gently put him in his place, even if that place was still substantially higher than his own mother’s new ‘place’ within the family.

“Fine. Tomorrow night you’ll sleep with either Fartbox or Drip, but I don’t want to hear any more bellyaching. And no, I don’t want to hear either of you other two brats ask for a night with one of them, period. You’re too young,” he said with a smile, heading off the expected complaints from Chris and Kristina. I can’t say why I thought that was funny. Maybe because they were too young to sleep with someone yet Ken was tickled that I’d fucked the gay out of my son?

I imagined Kristina rolling her eyes. Like she’d WANT to have her mom or sister in her bed. She was already going to be spending the night with Julie since it was so late and they had to be up for school bright and early. Julie had turned up at our place earlier prepared with an overnight bag and permission from her parents. I would NEVER have allowed Kristina to sleepover on a school night.

A new thought crossed my mind for the first time at that point. There was never exploration or physical intimacy that happened in Kristina’s bed when Julie spent the night, was there? I’d never paid attention to it, and in the last few weeks, Julie had spent a couple of nights sleeping over.

Chris brought my mind back to the moment when he said about Jessica and me, “They’re probably both bed hogs anyway.” He too sounded like he had no interest in one of us sleeping with him. That hurt a little but then what sort of mom would I be if I argued that my son should WANT to share a bed with his own mother. I stayed quiet, instead wondering what it’d be like sleeping in a dog cage.

“Could we set the cage up in my room, dad?” Christian asked after a pause. In my mind that altered what he’d just said about us being bed hogs. His first words had sounded so typically immature. His last, like a teen with a new sex toy.

“I got a lock for the cage, Christian. You won’t need to supervise her sleep, but you will get a key, along with Danny and Kristina. We’ll set up the cage in the living room so that you can unlock it if you’re the first one up. Drip and Fartbox are going to need every moment of training they can get if they’re going to pull off a win against the neighbors,” he assured his son. “You saw them tonight. Jane is quite a dirty little minx,” he added.

What? They were going to LOCK the cage with me inside? I didn’t know how I felt about that. It was a big step, in my mind. I was willing to play the part of sex slave for a month and I was even prepared to accept punishment when I messed up.

I swiped my tongue over Jessica’s pussy, withdrawing from the conversations that continued around me. I had a lot to think about and licking my youngest daughter’s wet pussy was something I could do without much mental effort. Still, getting back to the task at hand didn’t stop my mind running a million miles a minute.

What if I needed to use the bathroom in the middle of the night? Sometimes I needed to pee within an hour of going to bed with Ken. I didn’t complain, although I made a mental note to talk to Ken about it. Really, I couldn’t complain in front of the children. Doing so would have made one of my children think I wasn’t fully on board with a plan that I had supposedly initiated. Only Jessica and I knew this part of our lifestyle change was at Ken’s request, or rather at his behest.

We would have been happy just having his blessing to fuck strangers on a bet. That said, I would never have experienced Christian’s cock. And then there were the facets of submission that I was finding resonated with me on a cellular level. I wasn’t at all opposed to much of what was happening except maybe the painful punishments part. I’d even come to terms with Kendrick’s leanings towards what I’d previously considered his own budding infidelities.

I need to make this clear. I’d been looking at things all wrong. Kendrick had done Jessica a favor by fucking her. He hadn’t snuck around and done it behind my back, either. He’d simply scratched an itch using an additional resource that had made itself available to him in the form of my daughter. He didn’t NEED to fuck her, but if she was there, offering and it seemed like it was helping her, who was I to be jealous about my husband doing the right thing?

That thought led me to Jane and Elizabeth. They were ‘resources’ too, in a way. When we won the competition, they’d be staying at our house for a week. What would James, her son, do for a whole week abandoned at home by himself? He was Christian’s age, for heaven’s sake! She couldn’t just leave him to fend for himself while she and Elizabeth were at our house fucking ... Oh fuck. When we won, they’d be at our house, fucking Danny, Christian and KEN.

The little nagging feeling that something wasn’t right had finally revealed itself. I’d been counting on winning so that I could subject Jane and Elizabeth to the most degrading and embarrassing week of their lives. But I had no authority nor would I, for nearly four more weeks. Was this a competition I’d have to consciously lose in order to keep Jane from getting her hooks into Kendrick?

Would her hooks even be effective with Ken? She was married already. If she wanted my husband as more than a cock to suck or fuck she’d leave her own husband first. But she’d never mentioned being unhappily married. She just loved extramarital sex.

I wasn’t worried about Elizabeth. If anything, she seemed solely interested in snagging my son and he was a catch in multiple ways, even if one ignored the size of his cock. Danny being a football star didn’t seem to excite her as much as Christian’s intellect. I could see that brains over brawn pushed Elizabeth’s buttons. My previously gay son.

She’d made her preference clear at mini-golf by hanging all over Christian, and she seemed particularly pleased that she could flirt with strangers and he simply flirted right back with her and Dianne. It’s also likely his flirting was probably on a subconscious level because Christian was not naturally so much shy as disinterested in girls. At the same time, I’m sure if someone had pointed out he was doing it, he would have clammed up.

Okay, he is a LITTLE shy around people he doesn’t know really well. Girls, that is. He seemed to get on really well with Elizabeth’s brother, James. I didn’t know how long they’d actually known each other, but over the last couple of days, I’d discovered James had many interests in common with Chris and that they’d been online together a while - for longer than I’d known Jane. What was funny was that Chris hadn’t even known James lived right next door.

The cage was not nearly as comfortable as advertised. On the box, a yellow lab sat in the open doorway to the cage, tongue hanging out and smiling for the camera. My tongue wasn’t hanging out nor was I smiling when Kristina came downstairs the next morning with Julie.

At around three in the morning, I’d wet myself. I’d squatted in my cage, sobbing in embarrassment of what I was doing, but pissing anyway, unable to hold it any longer. So when Kristina and Julie turned up, I was tired, cranky, sore from the confines of the cage and I felt disgusting. I’d had to crouch in a puddle of my own urine for the last three hours. You try squatting or standing in a space just over two feet tall, for three hours. My back, thighs, calves, even my neck and abs were killing me.

My daughter and her friend appeared at the top of the stairs and walked down, giggling together. Although they were the first up, they had no way of knowing that yet. Both were in nightshirts and neither wore a bra underneath. Julie jiggled more than Kristina because Julie has actual tits whereas Kristina’s were still puffy lumps under her shirt. I was tempted to ask if Kristina had slept braless even though she’d had company over. Who was I to talk, naked, locked in a cage in the living room though?

“Eww. That smell. Is that YOU, Drip?” Kristina asked, finally acknowledging me.

“She wet the bed!” Julie laughed to Kristina then to me, “Did you forget to go potty before bed last night, Drip?” She had stifled her giggles and said it with a straight face. She even sounded genuinely concerned.

“Gawd Drip. That’s nasty,” she said. She would get no disagreement from me on that. “Remind me to tell dad that someone needs to make sure you go potty before bed. I can’t believe I have to start babysitting my own mother to ensure she doesn’t wet herself in the middle of the night.”

She knew I’d gone. I’d had to ask permission to go after she’d forced me to drink three bottles of water when we’d arrived home from mini-golf. At the time, the first bottle had seemed so considerate of her. The second, not so much. I’d become aware she was messing with me, but I drank it too. Jessica had complained that she hadn’t wanted a second bottle, and she’d been spanked by Chris for being obstinate, before being made to drink a second bottle anyway.

I hadn’t wanted to be spanked so I’d stayed quiet and had done as I was told. I’d looked at the third bottle with trepidation. Jessica had taken it as a challenge and downed it, nearly throwing it back up again as her tummy rebelled. I’d quickly sipped my way through my third, feeling a little sick but determined.

Then Kristina had suggested her friend ‘help’ us to the bathroom to relieve ourselves and I’d realized Kristina’s game. Julie had earlier suggested privately to Kristina that she’d wanted to see us pee and Kristina had orchestrated things so that we’d need to.

Julie had confirmed it when Jessica asked her outright. She’d admitted that she’d voiced interest in seeing Kristina do it and Kristina had offered our services instead. To me, that meant either Julie was lying, or Kristina had previously breached the taboo of a friend seeing her pussy up close and just wasn’t prepared to go to that level of intimacy with her friend. Still, she was happy for us to humiliate ourselves that way.

This had all been after we’d unloaded everything out of the minivan, including the cat litter and paddling pool, which we’d left in the garage following Kendrick’s instructions. It was late, and I was so glad we didn’t have to manhandle those buckets to the backyard, not that I had any inkling why we’d purchased either item. When we’d finally arrived inside, we’d doffed our clothes, and that’s when Kristina had seemed so thoughtful and considerate, having bottles of water ready for us.

Kristina pulled her key out. It was on a chain around her neck. The same one with the house key on it.

“I’m going to unlock your cage, Drip. But first, you must answer my questions correctly.” She paused until she heard my agreement. A nod wasn’t enough for her.

“Do you WANT me to unlock the cage, whore?”

Oh boy, here we go. It’s too early for this, I thought to myself but answered anyway, “Yes, Princess. I have to make breakfast. Fartbox hasn’t come down yet.” I guess she considered that a correct answer because she moved on.

“Next. Are you sorry for pissing in your bed?” She asked. She didn’t call it what it was. There was no bedding, and I was locked inside. I wondered if she was just trying to get a rise out of me or if she was kidding herself into thinking that I really did consider the cage to be a ‘bed’.

“Yes, Princess. This stupid bitch is sorry for peeing the bed,” I said, biting the bullet and using nasty words to describe myself and what I’d done. She’d really liked me speaking in the third person yesterday, so I did it again this time. Point for me this round, I thought to myself.

“Do you think that saying sorry cuts it, cunt?” She asked. I once again shivered at being called a cunt. And I knew what she was getting at. She just wanted to punish me even though I was the victim here. I answered before getting a surprise.

“Yes, Princess. Please correct me for peeing the bed,” I said quietly. I know my tone sounded resigned. I couldn’t help it. Julie picked up on that before Kristina could say something.

“You don’t WANT to have your failings corrected? I thought you were insistent that we do this for you?” She asked.

I wanted to complain that peeing in the cage wasn’t my fault. That it was actually hers and Kristina’s fault for making me drink so much water before I was locked up without any way of going to the bathroom again. That would have made me feel better - being able to blame someone else. But the fact was that it absolutely was MY urine. I’D put it there. So it was MY fault. Blaming someone else was shirking responsibility for what had happened.

“I don’t think I should stand in the corner is all, Miss Julie. My feet have pee on them.”

Okay, I’d lied. I inferred that I was uncomfortable being punished in the way I expected these girls to punish me instead of just accepting her claim that I sounded reluctant to be corrected at all. So sue me.