Chapter 5

The second question was not at all what I hoped. I hoped she was going to ask me to play her naughty game.

“Can I count on you to not let your parents know that we play this game? I completely understand if you want to tell them, and I’ll support that decision. Your mom knows I am a little strange, but she doesn’t know about this, and I do not think she would take kindly to you being exposed to it.”

I said that I would keep it a secret.

“I hate to ask you to do that because it makes me feel like I am doing something wrong. The simple fact is that I do not tell most people about the game. They get the wrong idea. It’s naughty, but it’s not about sex. When we’ve let guys play, they always make it about sex. It’s about control, obedience, humility, patience.”

I said that I understood, and she seemed skeptical. We entered a sun wear place on the main street. It was next to a taco place called Sombreros.

“I asked the girls not to play while you are on the Winnie. They’ve been a little frustrated and pissy because they have to watch what they do around you. I may seem like an obnoxious loudmouth, but I am really not. I care about what you think and your experience. I am trying not to corrupt you, even though you’ve got such an innocent little face,” she pinched my cheeks like she admired that about me and wanted desperately to corrupt me.

“I can talk to the girls when we get back. There is no point in pretending we don’t do this. I could have lied to you and told you this was some elaborate game they did to fuck with your head,” my Aunt sounded so wise. She was one step ahead of me. I thought that was what this was.

My Aunt explained that she lived her life by the adage that you won’t know you like something until you try it – and sometimes you might get off on it even if you do not like it.

I didn’t fully understand what Patty meant. I agreed with her point that you won’t know you like it until you try it, though.

“If you are not TOO uncomfortable, I’d appreciate your allowing us to play the game. I will tell the girls not to take it too far. We’ll sit down and talk about some boundaries. If it gets too weird for you, I need you to raise your hand and say that you are uncomfortable, okay?”

Boundaries? I couldn’t have been more intrigued by all of this. It was so new and exciting. I wanted them to be free to play it fully. The more the better! I didn’t want to seem too eager though. I didn’t want her to think poorly of me and I thought she would if I told them to be as vulgar as they wanted to be.

She clearly thought that I was possibly uncomfortable by female nudity, and admittedly, I had been freaked out by it. That doesn’t mean I didn’t like it.

She waited for me to say yes, before checking out some tiny bikinis. They were little more than strings. “Oh crap, I wish I had more money! Well, later today!”

I didn’t want to ask my Aunt if she was a prostitute. The thought had occurred to me, but I thought of prostitutes as crack whores that walk the streets at night – surely, there had to be some other explanation.

I thought that the yellow bikini that my Aunt wore was small. I had seen similar ones on the beach but they were rare. This new line of bikinis she was looking at made that seem like something conservative from 1920.

My Aunt was shocked that the price of the suits was 39.99 each. “That’s highway robbery. This will barely cover my slit,” she held up the tiny red suit and shook it in frustration. “Okay, pick yourself out something, and we’ll get back to the girls. They’ll be wondering what I’ve decided, and I am still not entirely sure this is a good idea. I am not big on regrets unless they involve hurting anyone else.”

That was very profound.

I should mention that despite being 15 years old, my mother has NEVER permitted me to choose my own clothing. I did not even know what size shirt or jeans I wear. If I was uncomfortable about anything, it was choosing a pair of shorts to wear to the beach.

I had not been given a budget to work with or any criteria on what my options were in choosing a suit for myself. My Aunt was somewhat chaotic in her thinking and unstructured. There was always a “maybe” or “sometimes” in her answers, nothing was ever definitive. “It depends” and a lot of her logic seemed downright arbitrary and dependent on her mood at that moment.

I was analytic and liked having parameters when making choices. We were in a huge store with thousands of choices. I wasn’t sure what I needed, how much to spend, what looked best. I needed some criteria on which to make my selection.

My mom always made the choices for me on what I was going to wear. She didn’t pick the outfit by day, but I was never even consulted on what she bought for me. This was all new for me – I liked the freedom but was unsure of what choices I could or should make - the exercise was too open ended for me.

“You see?” Patty noticed my reluctance to make a decision. “It sucks to be the one making the decisions.”

“Actually,” I was nervous about asking. I took a moment to gather my thoughts and my courage. I didn’t want to talk about clothes shopping. I wanted to talk about the “Game”. I leafed through a rack of swimming trucks. I wasn’t paying attention to them and had no idea what I was even looking for as I scanned them. I just didn’t know how to come out and say what I really wanted to say.

“Can I play?” I came right out and said what I wanted to do. I wanted to participate in their game and be “IT”.

“Oh no, absolutely not. I wouldn’t be comfortable bossing you around or letting the girls boss you around. It’s bad enough you know our dirty little secret,” she didn’t hesitate to answer.

“No, I mean, I could be IT.”

My Aunt laughed and politely apologized. “I am not trying to belittle you, Hunter. I am going to say it like this. First of all, I don’t even know if this is something we should let you watch. I am willing to try just allowing you to observe the game and go from there. Second, you are a nice boy, but you would not make a believable IT. I can’t and wouldn’t want to spend time teaching you how to be IT, either.”

When she saw how crestfallen I was about her decision, she tried to console me and tell me that even her husband was not allowed to play.

“We tried to get Bob to play it with us. He’s a belligerent asshole, so we kind of thought it would be right up his alley. Just barking orders and being mean isn’t really the point, though. He couldn’t understand that, and so he was just cruel and made it all about sex. It’s not about sex – it’s sexual,” she explained. I didn’t fully understand the nuance of sex versus sexual.

A woman that worked there was nearby. She was waiting to offer assistance, and she clearly overheard us.

“Excuse me, I am talking to my nephew,” my Aunt feigned anger at being interrupted, and the employee disappeared quickly. “Look, for about a zillion reasons, we don’t need or expect you to participate. If you are comfortable letting us do it, then that will make the ride a lot more fun for us. I will insist that they stop, though if you are uncomfortable.”

I agreed. She picked out a pair of shorts for me and handed them to me. “Go put these on, and I will put these on,” she held up what appeared to be two pairs of shoe-strings.

I went to the changing rooms, put on a pair of black and white shorts that came down to just above my knee. They looked fairly ordinary.

When I came out of the changing room, my Aunt was waiting for me. She was wearing the shoe-string style bikini, and her body was popping out of it. She smiled at me and ignored the attention she got from other shoppers. It was a bikini store on the beach – how shocked could they be right?

“They shouldn’t sell it if they don’t want us to wear it,” she said out loud to whoever was nearby and offended by what she wore. “No one here is offended. They are either perverts who like it or jealous because they can’t wear it,” she explained. She took my pants, shirt, and tennis shoes with socks and tossed them in the garbage.

“Wait, I need shoes,” I said.

She sighed and clapped her hands to her sides in frustration. My Aunt allowed me to pick some cheap sandals and said that I could get new shoes later.

I felt bad that she was wasting so much money on me. “It’s only money,” my Aunt shrugged.

She strutted proudly out of the store and onto the beach. There were a lot of skimpy bikinis on the beach – mostly women who looked like they might be from Brazil or Cuba. However, my Aunt definitely had a lock on the skimpiest bikini.

Patty seemed like a true extrovert – like she thrived on attention. Every head turned as she sashayed to where the girls were.

Hope was running around on the wet sand and playing in the tide. Jen and Misty were chatting with two skinny teenagers who weren’t much bigger than me. The girls were getting their backs rubbed with lotion. They saw their mother, excused themselves, and came over quickly to where we were.

“Cute boys, did you do anything?”

“Nope, they were too shy,” Misty said. “One of them looked like Harry Potter, so I asked him to show me his wand and offered to show him my golden snitch.”

I was impressed that Misty made a Harry Potter reference. I didn’t think the girls would be into nerdy stuff that I enjoyed.

“Cute bikini, get one for us?” Jen asked greedily as she eyed her mother’s outrageous new microkini.

“You really like it?” Patty modeled it for her daughter. She stuck her butt out and bent over. “Do I hang out?”

People nearby clearly saw a mature woman bending over and letting two teenage girls examine her rump. My Aunt suggested they mind their own business, and they looked away. “Some people!” she joked.

When Hope joined us, my Aunt quickly explained that they could play “the game” but that they had to limit themselves around me. The girls seemed to take the compromise in stride as if they expected it. They had been playing the game in a limited fashion and that didn’t seem to do much for them.

“I assumed he had figured it out when you let us punish you by making you dance on the side of the road,” Jen offered an excuse for why she escalated things as soon as her mother’s back was turned.

“No, you did not,” Patty countered. “You saw that I was gone and saw an opportunity to fuck with Hunter’s head and play the game.”

In retrospect, the fact that their mom would often do whatever they told her to do, or they got away with planting an upside-down ice cream cone on the top of my Aunt’s head, started to make so much more sense. It was all part of some strange game and inside joke that I wasn’t supposed to know about.

I was kind of relieved because I had been trying to figure out why the girls could get away with so much rudeness and misbehaving sometimes, and other times, their mother was downright rude to them.

“I do not like being It, but someone has to be It,” Jen said.

“Well, I’ve thought long and hard about your punishment,” Patty snickered sadistically. She definitely had something devious up her sleeve and Jen looked a little nervous.

“Oh god, long and hard? What is it? Suck an old man off?” Jen replied. She wasn’t kidding. She didn’t seem all that worried about it if that was the punishment.

“I have to go mingle today, so I can’t play. You HAVE to be IT today for SIX hours straight,” Patty said. She assured Jen that if she half-assed it and phoned it in that she’d have six hours tomorrow until she did it right.

“What? no! bury me up to my tits in the sand and let the tide come in,” Jen suggested. That was an extremely sexy predicament. I could imagine those tiny little crabs that line the beach pinching her tits.

“You’d enjoy that,” her mom dismissed the proposed punishment without a second thought. She bluntly joked that the only crabs they were going to catch were from the pubes of unwashed dicks.

“Here is the deal. You’ll take me and your sisters to lunch,” Patty placed the remaining folded-up cash in Jen’s palm. “There is a hot dog place near the sidewalk. You have to make your sisters try on these bikinis and model them for you. After lunch, I’ll be out mingling. No sex, No corporal punishment. Does that sound good, Princess?”

Jen looked completely miserable, but the other girls seemed pleased.

“If Hunter tells you he is uncomfortable, tone it down and stop! I’ll go eat lunch with you guys and then meet you at the Sunwear place when I am done, probably around 2 pm. Understood?”

“Gah, six hours? 2 pm we won’t even be done.”

“Exactly; I plan to get at least two hours today. I haven’t played the game either for a few days.”

My Aunt told me to understand a few things before she began. “First of all, this is ALL consensual. I do not MAKE my daughters play the game.”

“You are making ME be IT for SIX hours,” Jen complained. I could tell she wasn’t refusing – just bitching.

“Tough titty, so sad, too bad, you should have thought of that before you tried to pull a fast one. You wanted to be IT? You are IT, Princess!”

“I wanted to play the game and nobody else wanted to be It. This is so unfair. Payback will be a bitch!” Jen seethed like this was a particularly humiliating punishment.

“It may seem like we are being mean to each other. We love each other more than words – and that’s why we can do the game with each other. It’s so hard to explain, but just understand we don’t really mean the things we say,” Patty explained to me.

“Some of them,” Jen clarified snarkily.

“Yeah, well – the really cruel stuff is just for fun. It is no hard feelings, so technically, there isn’t supposed to be payback.”

“Oh, there is ALWAYS payback!” Jen assured her mom. “Now, are you done flapping your mouth lips 69, or should I make you strip and hand over that bikini to someone who would look good in it?”

“No nudity in public. Keep it street-legal in public, Princess Jen,” Patty said in a firm but polite manner.

“Can we be naked on the Winnie, now?” Hope asked enthusiastically. I was shocked that she wanted to be naked in front of me. I wouldn’t say she was reluctant or shy, but she hadn’t shown off or intentionally flashed me. Hope had seemed unconcerned but not particularly happy or sad either way when she had to change in front of me earlier.

“That is something we need to decide; let’s not overwhelm your cousin,” Patty decided with a bit of empathy for my situation. I didn’t think she needed any empathy – I liked girls being naked. I just didn’t want to get accused of being a “Booby Watcher” again and being too eager. This was all happening so fast – I didn’t want to blow it.

“He’s a perv; Hunter will be fine. Now, shut the fuck up, Cunt-face,” Jen insisted. She told her mother to assume the attention position. Shoulders back, tits out, hands behind her head, mouth wide open, and legs slightly apart.

Patty adopted the position but seemed reluctant. “Can we just do numbers or real first names until we get a chance to talk tonight, Princess?”

“Are you asking me what the rules should be, or are you telling me, 69? because you certainly seem like you want to be IT!”

My Aunt was clearly addressed as 69? My brain interpreted that as “Agent 69,” like a secret code name. Agent 1, 53, and 54 were Hope, Misty, and Jen, respectively. Yet, a pattern also emerged where they exclusively called their mother Cunt Face? Was that an insult meant specifically for her? Another code name? Were these names interchangeable?

It was perplexing and kind of a mystery. I love codes and puzzles. This was an added benefit to watching the game beyond just tits and asses in the warm Florida sun.

“I am sorry, Princess, I didn’t anticipate your cousin being here. I just don’t want to throw too many things at him and freak him out. Let’s discuss it later, okay?”

“You want me to be IT, and then you tell me I can’t do what I want,” Jen seemed frustrated. “What are you looking at 55? You played the game around Hunter too. You should have to do this too!”

“Sorry, Ma’am, but we can’t both be It,” Misty started to say. Jen popped her sister’s fat tits with her hand and shut her up. “I did not give you permission to speak. Line up next to 69, left side! Same position, Fart-Face.”

“Yes, Princess,” Misty’s eyes sparkled with a sort of excited fear that suggested she wanted to grovel and was hoping she could win her sister’s favor by being obsequious. She assumed a position on her mother’s RIGHT side.

“You are going to pull that crap when my hands are tied, and I can’t spank you?” Jen demanded to know if Misty had intentionally fucked up just to frustrate her sister because she couldn’t spank her on a busy public beach.

We weren’t in a particularly crowded spot, and the people walking past didn’t seem to notice or care that we were playing a game. They ogled my Aunt’s swimsuit with a few double takes to see if she had on anything at all, and that was about it.

“Sorry, Ma’am,” Misty quickly stepped around her mother to the left side. “I did not know if you meant my left or her left.”

“What do you do if you don’t know? Guess or ask for clarification 53?”

“Ask clarification, Ma’am!” Misty stood proudly and, after answering, let her mouth hang open wide the way Patty was. It was like nothing could humiliate them – because behaving like this on a busy beach was definitely drawing a lot of unwanted attention.

Two college-age dudes stopped. One of them was wearing sunglasses and looked like the typical frat dude. “You tell her! Put her in her place!” he patronized Jen.

“Oh god, this is so fucking embarrassing,” Jen was the one who seemed humiliated. She ignored the frat guy and continued dressing down the girls. “Number one, you are not a dolphin anymore. You are a hot-dog-eating cum slut, aren’t you?”