Chapter 36

“Yes, it was fun, but my ass throbbed all last night and all day today,” Julie admitted about the game she played last name with her brothers and father.

“Spanking is something we still don’t understand,” Astrid replied.

“You’ve never been spanked so hard that your ass throbbed?” Julie seemed confused by Astrid, and I was as well.

“Oh yes, many times, mostly last year when I joined the Program and would go too far with boys, but I don’t understand the appeal.”

Ingrid shook her head as well.

“Why haven’t you talked to Ms. Collins about this?” Julie inquired.

“We have, but she tells us to experience it and that not everyone is meant to enjoy everything. It’s still a bit of a mystery. Since humiliation, bondage, and pain are a big part of this year’s Program, we have been trying to understand, but we don’t get it, sorry.”

Her sister Ingrid added that she didn’t see the point in any of it.

“No need to apologize. I am still learning myself,” Julie said before asking me if I had any observations to share.

I was nervous and unsure of what to say. “I’ve known many of the people in this neighborhood from before my kids were born, and some of them laugh at me and ridicule me. It usually makes me feel ashamed, but I have embraced it and just rolled with it. I feel my pulse race, sometimes when I am squatting, and nobody is even paying attention to me, and here I have my entire ass and pussy on display for them. They are talking about me like I am not even present. There are times I can’t use my hands or my mouth and have to wait for permission, and I think people are laughing at me and calling me the worst mom ever. Yet, I kind of enjoy this relationship.”

“Trust me, you are not the worst mom ever,” Astrid said with confidence. She was about to say something else when Mrs. Pauzer stepped out into the road. Her two asshole sons were behind her. I felt SHE was a much worse mom than I ever would be.

We had avoided her house. However, they had doubled across the backyard of a neighbor in order to confront us. I had known Debi Pauzer back in high school. When I went to high school, she was an upperclassman, and we barely knew each other. Now, she had an ax to grind with Dewey, me, and my daughter. I really didn’t understand why she felt the need to seek us out and confront us. I guess she was pissed off about something.

They stopped about 10 feet from us, so we had to raise our voices to communicate with them. I was glad they weren’t up in our faces, but it also meant people in nearby houses could see and hear this happening.

“How come you naked whores aren’t running by our house anymore?” Mrs. Pauzer asked. Astrid and Ingrid seemed utterly puzzled. I started running in place.

“We were trying to avoid a confrontation, but you are making that impossible. Can you let us pass, please?” Julie asked calmly.

“My boys wanted to make a request. They wanted to jerk off over you and your mom’s ugly fat faces, and Ms. Collins said you had to be nice to them.”

Ingrid and Astrid looked perplexed. They stopped running, and I did as well.

“She didn’t say we have to be nice; she said I have to perform reasonable requests at school and that at MY discretion, I can and should as an Ambassador of the NIS Program when they are reasonable.”

“That’s a lot of words for you, but you are too scared. You aren’t too scared to show your disgusting ass and frothy fat cunt hole to everyone in the neighborhood, Julie Garner. You used to sell Girl Scout cookies in this neighborhood. Aren’t you ashamed?”

“Cookies,” Ingrid giggled under her breath to Astrid.

“Stay out of it, Blondie! This is between me and the Stink Beasts, who would beat up on boys half their size! I mean, everyone is half your momma’s size. Look at how fat her belly is!”

“Stop it!” Julie insisted.

“What makes you think people want to see your saggy fat milk sacks and gaping shit packer down at a high school. I heard you made out with my sons?”

I wasn’t sure if I should speak up, but I did anyway. “It’s not a beauty contest. Everybody’s body is different, and I didn’t make out with your sons. They asked to watch me fuck my ass, and I did that for them.”

It was so strange yelling something obscene out as a DEFENSE of my behavior.

“You are a dirty whore, for letting teenage boys look up your shitter and watch you pleasure yourself. You call that education, skunk-cunt? I should call you Frankentits. You look like 9 sluts died, and they used their parts to make one extra dumb whore!”

She was trying to piss me off, and she was succeeding.

“Look, you are body-shaming my mother and being rude. What is it going to take to make amends and get you to stop hassling us and Dewey.”

“Oh, I’ve never said ONE word to your precious Dewey. I don’t even know him. You could start with an apology!”

“I am sorry for everything. I am sorry for beating up Dylan,” Julie offered politely.

“That’s a start, now, come here and kiss me directly on my dirty asshole!”

Julie stood quietly in disbelief. She was doing really well keeping her anger in check. She didn’t dignify the request with a response.

“You DO reasonable requests? Eat my dirty asshole, and we’ll call it even.”

The nerve of this woman! I wanted to deck her. I restrained myself though. There was no point in adding fuel to the fire. I knew that I was supposed to listen to Julie, but there was only so much I could take of this woman.

Astrid and Ingrid whispered that they would do it. I was surprised they would be willing to do something so disgusting to save Julie and me. Julie refused to allow that and Mrs. Pauzer overheard them speaking to Julie.

“No, it has to be Julie and Chewbacca, her wookie of a mother! I bet she could eat my ass REAL good. Isn’t that right, Brittany Garner?”

It was strange hearing my last name included with my first name. It was the first time in a long time that I had heard it spoken out loud. I cringed a little and held my tongue. I was getting used to being called “Brittany” only as my new normal, even at home. It was jarring to suddenly hear Brittany and Garner being spoken together in the same sentence.

“Let me fart on their heads, Mom!” Dylan yelled his request to his mother.

“Do you hear that? My son has another REASONABLE request! Let him knock a fart in your eardrum like you did him yesterday, and we’ll be square!”

“I want to punch her in the tit, too! She sucker punched me!” Dylan swung his fists like a boxer shadow boxing with himself.

“That’s a real tempting offer, Mrs. Pauzer. How would I know you would keep your word and leave us alone?”

“Are you calling me a liar, bitch? You skeezy slag whore!” Debi got even angrier and more animated after that. Now the price has just doubled! Come lick out our assholes, and then let my son get in a few hits and fart on your heads, and we’ll call it even. It’s your choice, bitch! I can go down to the school tomorrow and tell them you kicked sand in Dylan’s face and threatened him because you got punished. That stupid whore at your school will believe every fucking lie I tell her.”

I wanted to bull rush this bitch and knock her over. My daughter saw I was getting angry and put her arm across my waist to calm me.

“That red-headed fire crotch is some kind of liberal dumb-ass who hates FIGHTING more than she does anything else. All I have to say is you beat up my son, and your ass is going to be grass again. How did you enjoy your little spanking in front of everybody today?”

“It didn’t really bother me, Mrs. Pauzer. I don’t want to have this kind of confrontation with you. There is absolutely no reason for us to be enemies. If it takes licking your ass, farting on my head, and punching me in the tit for this to stop, I’ll do it. Okay?”

“Oh, now you are scared! Good, well, as I said, the price doubled, so your stupid cow of a pig fucking mom is going to lick both of my son’s dirty buttholes, and I know for a fact they don’t wipe because I’ve seen their skid marks!”

“Leave my mother out of it. I punched Dylan, and I’ve apologized. Fighting isn’t the answer, but hassling people who are just jogging isn’t either.”

“Keep talking, and I’ll ask your two blonde dyke girlfriends to eat my ass nice and clean.”

“I can’t ask you to do that, Mom,” Julie looked at me with tears in her eyes. I appreciated that. I walked toward the boys and knelt down.

“Not out here, you fucking attention whore! Go back in my house, and you can lick, lick, lick, like the twisted perverted cunt you are!”

My sister told Astrid and Ingrid to go back to our house and apologized. They said they were definitely coming with us. I followed Debi into her house. It reeked of rotten food. The dishes were piled high, and the floor was covered in filth dirty clothes.

An older man was sitting on a dirty couch, smoking and watching Television. Debi also had a daughter who looked like she might be already out of high school. She gave us dirty looks.

“Alvin, Nikki, I want you to meet Chewbacca and her whore daughter that beats up little boys!”

“Fucking bitches,” Alvin seemed to care less about the conflict or drama that had just walked into his house. He and Nikki didn’t seem surprised we were nude, either.

“Well, it’s not going to eat itself; let’s see what you can do?” Debi said. She wasn’t an attractive woman. She was heavy-set, which made her a hypocrite for attacking my weight. I was big-boned but hardly as big as this woman. She had saggy boobs and wore a matching sweatshirt and sweatpants that looked like they hadn’t been washed in several days.

She pulled her pants down and spread her dirty ass cheeks. Debi had a tattoo on her butt that said ‘DAVID’ on it with a heart. Her asshole was dark and looked sweaty. I didn’t want Julie to lick it. She fell to her knees and began. “Oh yeah, atta girl!”

Dylan turned around and presented his ass to me. He farted in my face, and his mother was right. He was kind of dirty back there. I kissed his butthole, and he held my face to his butt and tried to smother me with his stinky little ass.

I could have easily picked the kid up and launched him across the room. Instead, I obediently sucked and smooched.

Dylan abruptly turned around and punched me in the tits. It didn’t hurt me, but it wounded my ego. He was trying to punch me hard, but I have big fatty tits, and he punched me in the hardest part. He tried punching my tits three more times until he discovered how sensitive my nipples were. He twisted those, and I allowed it to happen. He guided me to lie on my side on the floor. Set his dick and balls on top of my forehead and dipped them while yelling “Teabag!”.

I noticed his little brother Eric was doing the same to Julie as she lay facing me. They ripped farts on our heads and forced our noses under their butts.

“Jesus, Mom, this is gross,” her daughter waved her nose over her face. Alvin also seemed disturbed by what happened but didn’t say anything. Debi told them both they can “Fuck right off about it!”

As I got up and wiped some of the plastic garbage that had stuck to my skin from their floor off of my body, she had one more thing to say to us. “Now, next time you run past our house, I want you to be respectful, and any request me or my sons give you, I want you to do for us, or I’ll show up at your school and have a lot more to say to your coordinator. I read your disgusting pamphlet. There is a lot of money at stake, isn’t there?”

“We get it,” Julie said.

“You don’t, but I’ll be in touch,” Mrs. Pauzer threatened us. She told us that if we told ANYONE about what had happened, she would definitely tell the NIS Coordinator we attacked her sons, and we could kiss the college scholarships and money goodbye. I was so sick to my stomach with worry.

After we left, Julie apologized profusely to the Karlson girls. They were very understanding and said it wasn’t their fault. “You both showed so much restraint. She was such a Shitboot!”

“Fighting is never the answer,” they said as we jogged back toward the house.

There was a lot of silence as we tried to process the very bizarre encounter in our heads. I wasn’t wondering if I should call the police, tell Jim, tell Ms. Collins, or what. I assumed we’d hear from this crazed woman again.

“Don’t tell anyone about what happened. That’s probably the last of it, but right now, it’s our word against hers. I wish I had my phone. I could have recorded that!”

“Actually, I have it all on video,” Astrid had her phone in her purse. She had the camera running the entire time. We stopped and watched it. All the threats, even what happened inside the house were recorded.

“Holy crap! You are a lifesaver, Astrid!” Julie hugged Astrid so hard. The two girls touched titties and embraced as close friends.

“You would do the same for us,” Astrid assured her.

“I was so worried this woman could make trouble for me. The only question is whether to show Ms. Collins on Monday or wait and see if she ever tries to make trouble for us?” Julie asked.

“I think you should go right away to Ms. Collins, but I have a question for you. Were you scared while she was hurling insults at you and making threats?”

Julie seemed puzzled by the question and said she was. “Me too. Every time she hurled an insult at you, I took it personally. It felt like she meant every word. If I call my sister a Shitboot, she knows I am just joking, and I love her. This woman was so mean and cruel. I think I felt a little humiliated, and when she walked us into her filthy hovel, it was like we were walking into a trap. My pulse quickened; I was on the edge of wondering what would happen. This dirty old man and the sister did nothing. I thought they might.”

Ingrid nodded in agreement.

“Then you had to eat a dirty, unclean ass and let those boys fart on you. I would just laugh if it was me. It wouldn’t have bothered me at all. It’s stinky and unpleasant, but so is “surströmming.” Astrid explained that they have a “Stinky fish” challenge where contestants eat foul-smelling fermented fish back in their village in Sweden.

Ingrid laughed really hard about that.

“How do you feel after you faced the fear and survived it?” Astrid asked.

“Great, because you have the tape, so I don’t have to worry about her taking revenge!”

“Yes, that’s good, but did you taste any adrenaline like we did? Was it fun on some level?”

Julie was genuinely perplexed and adamantly said that no part of that experience was fun.

“What about you, Brittany? When that woman was mocking you, did you feel anything?”

“I was angry,” I admitted.

“I guess I still don’t understand humiliation. I was watching you take the name-calling and just accept it without saying anything back. It reminds me of how Misty and Tiffany talk down to their mothers, but this disgusting lady was far more colorful.”

“She was body-shaming my mother while she was even fatter than Brittany! No offense, Mom!”

I snickered.

“You see? That is how Ingrid reacts if I say her pussy smells or she is a dirty slut. She is not annoyed; she just smiles. Let me say mean things.”

“I know you don’t mean it,” Ingrid replied.

“Your pussy does smell sometimes, Ingrid, and sometimes I tease you because you are being slow or behaving like a true dumb piggy.”

Ingrid smiled. “I know, and I don’t mind when you say those things to me, Astrid.”

“Do you get angry?”

“No, I like it, to be quite honest.”

“Would you like it if a total stranger like that mean woman with her snorunge offspring talked like that to you?”

I wasn’t sure what snorunge meant, but Astrid’s tone of voice suggested she hated them as much as we did.

“I wouldn’t mind it, but the words were not directed at me. Girls at school can be very cruel, and I kind of like it when they tease me. I don’t really understand why. It’s fun, though.”

“I don’t think you are supposed to enjoy it. I think you are supposed to feel like Brittany does,” Astrid replied.

“I get called names at school, as well,” I admitted. “I guess it depends on the context. There are times I don’t mind. I wasn’t angry about the name-calling. I was angry this woman was threatening us and going to get away with it. She had us over a barrel.

Astrid and Ingrid could understand that! They didn’t understand the motivation behind doing it for pleasure, but they understand anger and petty jealousy.

“You wouldn’t mind being called a skunk cunt or someone saying you have saggy fat milk sacks?” Astrid tapped my breasts for emphasis.

I didn’t know how to respond. I had to think about my answer. “I certainly didn’t like it, but when people yell things at me from their cars while I am jogging or at school, it won’t make stop the program or complain, no.”

“That’s because you don’t believe you have a skunk cunt, or saggy fat milk sacks or because you don’t care what their opinion is of you?” Astrid asked. I knew her questions were based on her own experiences.

“I guess if my husband said I had a skunk cunt, it would hurt my feelings, but I wouldn’t mind it as long as he wasn’t angry with me.”

“So, as long as he is just joking?”

“I don’t know. I think it would depend on the context. I can’t imagine a scenario where my husband would do that.”

“What if I started talking to you like Tiffany does to her mother?” Julie took over for Astrid.

“I wouldn’t mind that, but you wouldn’t because you aren’t like Tiffany,” I responded.

“Yes, but what if I did? Would you start to think I am mean?” Julie.

“No, I know you are not mean. I am used to calling you Ma’am when you discipline me now. It’s a little humiliating, but I know those are the rules.”

“So, there you go,” Julie turned to her friend Astrid and suggested that she start talking to Ingrid the same way that Tiffany or Misty do their mothers and be harsh and curt. “Instead of experimenting by insulting the people who give you requests, just model your behavior on what you see the others do.”

“That’s a very good observation,” Astrid seemed appreciative. She said she didn’t want to be mean or harsh to her sister. “However, perhaps we will both come to a better understanding of the Trainer-Breeder Program?”

Julie nodded.

“My family will think I’m Galen,” Astrid searched for the right words and said, “Headed for the loony bin. Everyone in my family is very supportive and considerate.”

“Then just explain to them that you are experimenting with strict discipline and that none of them have to treat your sister with contempt if they don’t want to,” Julie suggested. We were nearing our house.

“Contempt? What is this word?” Astrid asked.

“The way that Mrs. Pauzer was toward us. She talked down to us, called us names, berated us, and ridiculed us.”

“Sort of like Cinderella’s Wicked Stepmother?” Astrid asked.

“Exactly, and her wicked stepdaughters would reinforce Cinderella’s position. If your family wants to talk down to Ingrid and make her step and fetch things for them like a pair of shoes, then they treat her like a maid.”

“A maid? We would never disrespect our maid,” Astrid said.

“You have a maid?” Julie was shocked.

“Yes, how do you think our house is so neat all the time? We keep it clean, but we are at school, and my parents both work. We have a maid that comes when nobody is home. She is a very nice lady. She is Finnish, but she also speaks Swedish.”

“Well, that’s a bad example then; my brothers would run my mom ragged if they could. I let them give her small tasks like passing the salt or come ask me a question, but If I told them they could tell her to go get their shoes out of their closet and tie their shoes, they would treat her like a do-bitch, and she’d never get any peace.”

“It seems like Brittany is already doing all the housework and chores for them, anyway,” Astrid said. “Why would you advise me to let my family order Ingrid around but not do the same? I have three other sisters and a brother. You only have two brothers,” Astrid seemed skeptical.

“You want to understand humiliation and service, and I am just offering a suggestion. Your family would be much more restrained. I had to set some serious limits when I am not around. You make your sister do standard requests when you aren’t available to give permission. I could never do that at home because the guys would keep Brittany so busy she couldn’t finish her whores.”

“I don’t MAKE Ingrid do it. She would do any request if I wasn’t there to tell her no.”

“I would,” Ingrid grinned and batted her eyes. We were standing just outside of our house, finishing our conversation.

We went inside the house, and Jim’s immediate response was, “Took you fucking long enough! It’s Goddamned 10pm. Where were you?”

“Running around outside and ran into some students from the school who wanted us to perform reasonable requests,” Julie didn’t lie.

“Well, you’ve got family right here that would like to ask some reasonable requests, so you don’t have to go flapping your pretty little fannies around like naked bunnies trying to find someone to ask you to pull their pecker,” Jim said.

Dewey asked us who it was and what kind of requests were made. I believed he suspected it was the Pauzers.

“Just some random kids from school and standard requests,” Julie lied.

“I want to make a standard request. How about the four of you play Pop the Coochie with us! We figured out how we can do it,” Jim smiled.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about the game. Jim kept changing the rules, but everyone seemed to have a good time when we played. I’ll be honest; even though I knew I’d get my butt popped; I was looking forward to it. I needed something to take my mind off on the strange encounter with Debi Pauzer and her sons.

This was exactly the thing that would do that. I just wasn’t sure if Astrid and Ingrid should be playing it with us. It wasn’t exactly fair/balanced for the girls of the family.

“It’s been a rough day, Dad. Can we not do this while we have guests over?” Julie didn’t seem interested.

“We want to play your games,” Astrid and Ingrid both seemed happy to do it. They reminded everyone that they would follow the same customs that we do at our house.

“We don’t play every night,” Julie said.

“Almost every night, and this time, I think you will like it. Last time, you could only present your ass. I think this time, you are going to enjoy it.”

“You’ll have to give a better massage than last night,” Julie folded her arms in front of her chest. We weren’t supposed to do that at school because it hides our tits.

“Your wrists are bound to your mom’s ankles and hers to yours, and you face in opposite directions so that you can roll around and present all targets.”

“Targets being my holes, Dad?” Julie asked impatiently.

“Boobs are a target as well.”

“And tickling, too?” Julie frowned.

“Tickling, yes, that’s fair, whatever it takes to get you to say Banana.”

“Goosing us?” Julie’s frown deepened.

“Yeah, if that’s what you want to call it, just a quick pinch,” Jim said playfully.