Chapter 20

Oliver:

Beth let out a whimper so I pulled her onto my lap. "It's all right Dear -- we're just handling your mother's inhibitions." I looked to the others for confirmation, "Right?"

"Right," Frieda nodded. "After this, she won't be able to live in denial. She'll have done it and enjoyed it and any feelings of superiority she would have had over some other poor slut will be bled out of her."

The Major added, "After you've had a little modification, you'll be able to handle anything she can put out -- and she'll BE putting out on a regular basis, now that the barriers are down. You'll also be less inclined to allow her to put the brakes on you."

I nodded, watching the pair of unknown males service Vera. "Amazingly, that begins to make sense."

"She won't be in any position to give you and Beth any grief over what you did, either," Jack pointed out.

'THAT's a point, ' I thought.

"Just don't fuck her up when she comes crawling to you for forgiveness," Frieda insisted. "She's going to need to be cuddled, but don't let her off the hook for anything, and don't make any comparisons with what you did that might give her a leg up." I nodded my understanding.

Beth squirmed a bit on my lap so I asked, "Are you okay, Dear?" Perhaps it was settling in that her father was the kind of pervert that enjoyed incest...

But she said, "Yes, Daddy," and blushed, adding, "I'm a little aroused."

"So am I, Dear," I replied, giving her a little squeeze while I looked off at Vera and her ménage. As I watched, Vera cycled through an orgasm -- a powerful one. "I don't know if I've ever gotten her to do that," I muttered softly.

"I bet you have, Daddy," Beth replied. "That yell she gave out last night..."

I nodded. "Maybe." Perhaps I was overreacting to the cuckoldry. "In any case, this is about shaking her loose from some of her inhibitions so that she can operate more comfortably..." I murmured in self-justification. Beth murmured some kind of agreement while the male behind Vera stiffened and pressed himself deep, injecting her with another strange load of spermatozoa and fluids. Then the pair switched places, like they'd done it all before; the first male backed out of Vera's vagina and the second backed out of her mouth to circle around and insert himself in her womanhood while the first presented his penis, coated in their mixed juices, to Vera to suck clean. And Vera accepted it without a whimper while backing onto her new lover's erection.

This time, the pace was clearly different; the second stranger was in a hurry, apparently. "She'll be done soon," Beth opined.

I murmured agreement, then, unable to look at my daughter while I broached the subject, I said, "About what we did..."

"I loved it. You loved it. I will do it again -- and more. You heard Jack..." Beth replied firmly.

"Yes..." It was still wrong, wasn't it? Jack didn't seem to think so, and he had offered measured, logical arguments in support of his position. So why had I turned into a wild animal? "I surprised myself," I muttered.

"I know." Beth paused a moment, then added, "Any time you want -- and Jack says it is okay -- we can do it again. I love you, Daddy."

"I love you, too, Darling," I replied, squeezing her to me. Jack leaned up and caressed Beth's back, making a comment approving the way the situation had resolved itself. Apparently, this had been his master plan for adjusting Beth to the realities of her new position just as the sex scene before us was doing the same for Vera.

The latest contestant was flagging visibly, approaching his climax. Jack cleared his throat. "Oliver, there are a couple of psychological benefits to be had if you're the one who rides her when she crashes..."

I nodded -- the whole thing was crystal clear to me. "Up, Princess -- I need to go see to your mother." Beth got up and shifted to Jack's lap and I stood and moved to a position where I could assume control of Vera, divesting myself of my trousers as I went. I'd barely arrived when Vera's latest lover began making his semen deposit -- Vera's third from a new source in less than a half-hour. Well, it was time to assert my ownership ... Vera glanced around, dazed, as a new set of hands took her hips -- and her eyes popped as she recognized me. I decided that I might as well assert myself, so I pressed my penis into her slimy vagina and swatted her on the ass, directing, "Now, FUCK! Don't forget who owns you!" -- knowing my use of the word 'fuck' would add a bit of shock value.

At that point, I ignored my surroundings, concentrating on taking my pleasure from Vera's sex. I seemed to be removing all previous product on the out-strokes; the excess dribbled down her slit and dripped from her pubes onto the floor. Vera found her second wind, somewhere, and met me stroke for stroke as I pounded her urgently.

We didn't last that long; I would have liked to have out-lasted her -- and perhaps gone back to Beth in her presence while she lay collapsed from exhaustion -- but Vera surprised me with the power of her climax and drew me along, triggering my flood with her pulsing channel. Then she collapsed; Jack nudged the girls our way to take charge of her limp body, but she was going to suck MY essence from MY member before she was carried off! I made sure she did a good job before stepping away -- but then, she did, too. The girls stood around watching and giggling while it went on, which was fine with me...

Vera:

Sitting in the back seat of a minivan that appeared from who knows where -- that Major Howard, I guess -- I tried to figure out what the big mistake had been. Maybe it was a bunch of little ones ... I had stripes on my ass and my pussy was a little sore and my mouth was a little puffy. I was embarrassed and humiliated and worried that I'd gone too far and Ollie -- or Master, as he was to be called for the foreseeable future -- was irritated enough with me that he might dispose of me, one way or another, either now or later ... The situation wasn't encouraging; Oliver had unleashed three other men on me before following them up with a slam-bang fuck that had left me totally wasted -- and totally outed...

Any illusions I had were banished when Frieda turned around and sneered at me and said, "Well, the boys are a little dense, so they don't know -- but we do. Beth's momma is a party girl..." Tara turned around and grinned at me, too -- and I couldn't decide whether she was actively malicious, or I was just paranoid.

I couldn't hold my head up under their regard, so I concentrated on my knees. Frieda said, "So, do you have any idea what went wrong?"

"That Jack," I mumbled. "Every time he opens his mouth, I get deeper in shit..."

"And you don't know why, do you?" Frieda pressed. "Have you ever heard of topping from the bottom?"

"No..." I still couldn't look up.

"No, of course not -- or you'd have stopped." Frieda's voice dripped with fake sympathy. "Topping from the bottom is when you try to weasel around your boss and get him to do things the way YOU want them done rather than the way HE wants them done. You've been leaching the fun out of things by expressing your disapproval of stuff like Tara's striptease. Oliver is used to paying attention to you when you do stuff like that, so instead of enjoying himself, he sat there trying to garner your approval. In some ways, the whole thing was as much his fault as it was yours, because he should have just lit into you over small stuff before the pile got too big -- but you've got him trained ... That's all backfiring on you, you know? Still you might have been fine if you hadn't started in on Beth and Tara -- you DON'T have Jack trained and he wasn't gonna put up with it AT ALL!"

"Oh," was all I could work up the energy to say. Jack said something like that before all Hell broke loose...

"You manipulate people, Mrs. H," Frieda added. "But you're not smart about it. Jack won't be manipulated, and HE can manipulate YOU!" After a moment, she said softly, "And you aren't Mrs. H any more, are you?"

I burst into tears. It was all tumbling down around my ears; any minute, they were just going to stop somewhere and put me out on a street corner -- probably naked ... Ollie was pissed at me -- he'd made that clear by beating me, then handing me off to another man to have sex with, then ignoring me -- and finally coming back and telling me to fuck properly or he would beat me! Why? Because I was STILL telling him what to do -- nonverbally, if nothing else! The rules I'd put in place for my own protection -- the careful training I'd used to avoid dangerous situations and dangerous admissions -- they were now a threat to my welfare, leaving me on the fence between two impossible choices. Would Ollie keep me if he knew the truth or would he spurn me? Would it matter if I stupidly angered him enough trying to cover my idiot ass? And last but not least, would Frieda even leave me a choice? Beth hugged me and rubbed my shoulder, but Frieda said softly, "You need to come clean ... Vera."

"If I come clean, I'm gone!" I hissed. "After all this time? You've GOT to be kidding!"

"Tell me," Beth whispered. "You might as well, and I might need to know..."

I looked at my daughter for a moment and sighed; Frieda, sensing that I'd capitulated, leaned in close. Tara had to navigate -- we were going to her house, apparently -- but she listened with half an ear and made sympathetic noises...

I'm going to go into this for you a little deeper than I did with Beth, so you know where I'm coming from. I'm a pig. I'm under no illusions, I know it as well as you do. I'm a big, fat, roly-poly old sow with a big ass and a pair of blubbery jugs on her chest. I always have been, more or less -- even in grade school. Beth knows this, since I passed the majority of the mess on to her and somebody added that godawful lisp to it, but I need to get it out front, here. It made me a pariah, of course...

Nothing else was working, so my senior year I started hanging out near the boys' locker room. These days, they probably have video surveillance, but back then nobody gave a damn if some little porker wanted to watch sweaty guys go into the lockers and wet guys come out. I came to know, more or less, when the various sports teams came in and how long it took them generally to get undressed and showered and changed and come out. I defined a nine-minute window when everybody -- even guys who didn't shower -- was going to be inside the locker room doing something or other. And once I was comfortable that I had the timing down pat, I got brave -- or maybe stupid...

I took to waiting for that window and sneaking into the area between the outer hallway door and the inner door that led to the lockers -- that 'privacy barrier' that kept you from seeing inside the locker room from the hallway. From there, I could crack open the inner door and see...

Cocks, of course. Asses and muscular bodies of all shapes and sizes, but the draw was cocks -- cocks and balls. Big ones, small ones, thick ones, thin ones, various colors, cut, uncut -- all kinds of cocks hanging over ball sacks with contents of sizes varying from the size of a grape to the size of a golf ball. The guys would come out of the showers drying their hair, and I'd get a peek, and then when they got ready to dress, they would whip off their towels in front of their lockers, and maybe I'd get another -- and it was never enough.

I got braver and braver -- especially with the late groups. I told my mother I was in the Booster Club and that we were planning dances and such -- and I hung out under the bleachers at the football field while they practiced under the lights, waiting for them to go in...

I'm not sure how they caught me that night; generally, I took advantage of a mirror that reflected the locker area when I watched from the dark beyond the cracked-open door. The guys sometimes used that mirror to comb their hair, so maybe one of them saw me somehow. Or maybe I was stupid and clumsy and overconfident and they knew I was there for weeks before they set the trap that night...

It wasn't the whole team; most had gone early. I'd come out at the end of the magic window for the main group to find that the coach had held six of them for an extra half hour -- which shook me a bit as I could have gotten caught by the second bunch while watching the first. I hid and waited and two of them -- and the coach -- left right away, without showering. That left four...

They weren't in any hurry; when I crept in and cracked open the door, they were all still undressing, talking trash about this and that and snapping each other with towels, relaxing. This was going to be a good one. One of the guys got up off the bench and went over to the mirror and eyed himself critically. "I need a haircut. Pete, do you think I need a haircut? It's getting to be a pain in the ass to wash it and shit." And I get this great view while he stands there and Pete tells him that yeah, his hair is too long and he's starting to look like a girl. And the guy laughs and heads back to his locker leaning down to say something quietly to another guy as he passes, then gets his towel and disappears into the dead space where I can't see anything in the mirror. I figure he's headed into the showers. So the other guy gets up and wanders around a bit, stark naked, talking to the other two, then goes over to the mirror and stands there playing with his cock, which is half-hard. I was mesmerized. He looked over at the other guys and said, "Gemma Dawkins says I have a big fat dick. Do I have a big fat dick? If I wanted to fuck a big fat bitch with a big fat pussy, I'd probably need a big fat dick..."

Then the door flew open and I nearly fell into the room because I was leaning on it and a hand closed on my wrist and a voice said, "So, Vera, what the fuck you doin' here, anyway?"

I stood there, half-blinded, my mind totally empty. There wasn't an excuse in the world for me being there -- none. And they knew it. The four of them gathered around me while I stammered out basically nothing, my brain working so hard that it nearly set my hair on fire -- to no avail.

The guy who'd been playing with himself grinned evilly and said, "The truth might work -- you like dick, huh?"