Chapter 71

November 21st, 2047 –Thursday Night (Thanksgiving)

The kids were home from school on Thursday and Friday for the Thanksgiving holidays. Julie’s decision to end her experiment in male domination had left the guys frustrated. They had grown accustomed to treating her like garbage and were having a hard time adjusting to her need for consent and respect.

There were no rules or expectations for Julie anymore, but she remained nude, frequently wore the red collar with the silver bell that her father gave her, performed most requests her brothers gave her, and allowed them to jerk off on her food or in her face even at dinner. However, she insisted on sitting at the dinner table and eating fresh food without any dog food mixed in. She even stopped drinking the thick, viscous protein shakes she once shared with me.

She would usually let her brothers rub their dicks on her face, spread peanut butter on her ass, or rub pussy and asshole with toothpaste that acted like an itching powder. They could tweak her nipples or pinch her without asking. She didn’t mind that. She might complain or ask them to stop, but usually she let them have their fun and just put up with it.

At school, she had gone back to giving me the filthiest requests and not doing them with me. She was still a Cum Receptacle, but my daughter only performed the bare minimum and never blew bubbles with the cum like I did.

I wanted to eat some of the trash that we found when we cleaned out the cum bins. Tissues, gum, little bits of paper that had been marinading in jizz all day, but Julie told me no, and my over-arching desire to obey her gave me a headache just thinking about how degrading it would be to dunk my head in those bins and suck up the cum like a vacuum cleaner.

The short experience in a male-dominated house changed Julie. She still occasionally turned tricks and never asked for the money herself. She occasionally took an enema and allowed the guys to tie her up and play “Pop the Booty”, but she was no longer very enthusiastic about being a filthy, nasty slut and refused to sleep in a cage like a dirty animal that is not free to roam her house at night.

My daughter slept randomly with one of her brothers or her father every night. I didn’t ask but it seemed like she fucked them when they slept together. Most nights, Julie slept with her father. I wasn’t jealous even though I slept in the cage alone, usually bound tightly with a dildo shoved in my ass, and sometimes the automated breast Trainers were left chomping at my tits until the batteries drained. I was just glad Jim and Julie were happy. Usually, I’d be expressing so much milk that I couldn’t sleep and would be covered in it. I’d lap as much up as possible and be beaten in the morning for not having been able to clean the entire cage floor.

So, I was continuing to enjoy my new role, and I wished that Julie would just come back and do it with me.

Julie was back to using the toilet in the house, but she left the door open and usually asked permission to use it, even though she didn’t have to do that.

The guys frequently pissed in my funnel at the table, and Julie had begun mixing my protein shake with her piss instead of water. It was surprisingly not as bad as well water. I could definitely taste the asparagus they had for dinner on Tuesday.

Julie periodically beat me and even made me play Pop the Booty solo while she joined the guys’ team. She started smiling more after a few days. It seemed like after she stopped drinking the Protein shakes, she started reverting back to the old Julie – the one before the new rules. I guess she really didn’t like them.

Julie didn’t go to Wright Avenue with me any longer, and she eventually just stopped going to the Gibbons house. I half expected Danny Gibbons to roll up on us one day and ask where his “property was” and say that she was still his employee. Julie said she ended it amiably with them.

The guys never made us do things like walk the neighborhood offering blowjobs or run behind her father’s truck while he laughed at us. It was usually just tying us up at home and smacking the crap out of us. Jim got a baseball bat for me to sit on, and he usually left me outside on it facing the road with my legs spread, arms behind my hat, fart whistle in my asshole, and dunce cap on my head while he took pictures and drank beer with Mr. Johnson.

I was glad that I had such an accepting neighbor, and it amused him when my husband ridiculed me and made me expose myself like that as a dumb dunce. Every now and then, they would untie me and let me get up and dance around like an idiot and make a fool of myself for them while they laughed and laughed.

We seldom had people come over wanting to fuck me. Jim had nipped that in the bud and decided he didn’t like the house to smell like a constant whore house/be a whore house. I didn’t blame him. He started turning people away and put the rumor around the neighborhood that people couldn’t just drop by for my pussy.

Most of the customers had been there for Julie or to watch me eat Julie’s pussy and asshole.

It was finally Thanksgiving, and I had spent the afternoon in the nude, preparing a big meal over a hot stove. I used oven mitts, but sometimes I wondered what it would feel like if Dewey made me bake my tits in the oven or pick up hot pans without the oven mitts.

I didn’t want to die or be disfigured, but an hour with my tits baking at 350 degrees seemed like an exciting fantasy. I never mentioned that to anyone.

My entire family was planning to visit, and I was so excited to serve them when they arrived.

My parents, My brothers Kenny and Roy, and my sister Laura were coming over, I was nervous because I was told that Laura disapproved of my behavior. Even the mention of Laura’s name made me somewhat uncomfortable.

My son had spread peanut butter all over my face, tits, and ass while I prepared the meal and let it dry. He wrote “SHIT HEAD” by scraping peanut butter on my forehead. He wrote “SHIT HOLE” on my ass cheeks the same way by digging his finger in my ass and the peanut butter and feeding it to me, making me spit it back on his finger, and then writing it on my to “Decorate” me before their visit.

I loved amusing my son that way. I was quite certain I’d be feeling some shame and humiliation when my family saw me this way. I had no trepidation about that, and I hoped they’d laugh at me. I looked ridiculous, and the peanut butter looked a little like shit, so it was amusing (to Dewey and me).

I thanked him for being so creative and decorating my body before his grandma, aunts, and uncles arrived by offering to lick peanut butter off of his asshole because he loved it when I did that.

I didn’t get a chance because when we heard their R.V. pull up, Dewey ordered me to squat, legs wide open, and wait at the door to greet my family as I would any other visitor to the house.

My parents arrived with my brothers. I was told Laura would be joining me soon with my nephew and niece. I felt an overwhelming sense of dread was over me about Laura’s visit that was unmistakably different than any feeling I could remember ever having. Dad parked the big R.V. outside, it took him a little while to find a good spot and he hopped out, naked with a cock cage; and my mom wore high heels and a smile. My brothers wore clothes.

I could see my family because Dewey had the front door wide open while I squatted and waited for them to arrive. I was glad that Laura wasn’t with them – I hoped she wouldn’t come. I was worried about Laura’s reaction to seeing me nude. My sister and I were never close, even as little girls, but for some reason, Laura’s opinion, and specifically the threat of Laura’s disapproval, felt like a phantom hand choking me and making me deeply nervous. I just knew when she found out how big of a whore was, and that I fucked my sons and ate out my daughter that she’d declare me the world’s worst mother and I simply could not abide that thought.

My mom was the first one to see me. “I’d hug you, but what is that on you?” she looked at me as if I had lost my mind.

“Sorry, Ma’am, it is Peanut Butter. Dewey wanted to decorate me for Thanksgiving.”

“I half-expected they’d stuff you, put an apple in your mouth, and serve you up on the dining room table,” my mom laughed. She was completely naked and had two prominent piercings on her nipples.

My father was next to greet me. He was wearing his cock cage and shoes but otherwise naked.

I felt no shame around my parent’s regret that my father obeyed my mother and paraded around like that. I felt strongly that men should never be ridiculed or criticized openly. I kept that to myself and greeted him warmly.

My older brother Roy had dark hair, a beard, and a mustache. He was wearing clothes. “I really don’t believe it. My shy little sister. Wow!”

I felt no shame when Roy greeted me. I would have fucked him on the spot if I had been ordered to do it. I grew up with Roy, but I fucked my sons, so my brothers would be just as nasty. I smiled at him broadly and greeted him.

My younger brother Kenny had reddish brown hair and a longer beard. He also wore clothes and looked a little like a French Musketeer in the way he had it styled. He chuckled.

I felt no shame, either. I was hoping Kenny would fuck my ass. He used to sneak peeks at me and Laura when we were in the bathroom, and I remember when I was in my teens, yelling at him for daring to try to catch me in the shower. Now, I couldn’t open my legs wide enough to let him see my pee-hole as far as I was concerned.

I would have liked it if he gave me a swift kick in the pussy. I smiled at him and nodded politely. “Hello, Sirs! I am sure you heard that I am a Breeder in the NIS Program,” I patted my swollen belly. “I am sorry for my appearance. Dinner should be ready in a few hours. Can I get you something to drink?” I asked as I led them into the living room.

“This is your cage?” Roy asked as he surveyed the living room also noting the wooden stool with a big black dildo. It still had my pussy juice and spit on it from when I used it this morning.

“I am afraid so,” I admitted politely.

“You sleep in this cage every night, Piggy?” My mom asked. She didn’t seem critical, just surprised that things seemed to have escalated for me since her last visit.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Damn, I wish I knew you were into this. I told your brothers, and they agreed that you would have made a nice little house pet,” My mom laughed. I agreed, too. I couldn’t see any reason why I was raised to wear clothes and allowed privacy.

Roy and Kenny smiled and admitted that they would have loved it if I were their puppy back then. I could imagine that, and smiled at them dumbly, falling to my knees and barking, hands up in front of my fat tits, panting so they could pat my head like I was a dumb little doggy.

“Are your names Kolchins or Brewer now?” I asked them after they had their fun. They told me their last names were still Kolchins.

“I don’t discipline your brothers if that is what you are wondering. They know you, and I made out at your birthday party, though,” Mom laughed at the thought of treating my brothers like my father. The guys seemed less amused about that prospect.

I got them drinks and begged Dewey to allow me to clean up my body. I was feeling trepidation about Laura’s arrival, but I didn’t say that. He took me outside and sprayed me in the face with a garden hose and crimped the water to build up the pressure as he sprayed my asshole.

I was dripping wet when Dewey allowed me to crawl back into my house. I heard the familiar voice of my sister, Laura. She had arrived while I was getting my face washed.

“Oh my god,” she said as she looked up at me. Her son and daughter were standing behind her, but her husband wasn’t there. Her son was blonde and blue-eyed and wore a Captain America shirt. His name was Tim. Her daughter’s name was Erica, and she was a brunette like me and her mother.

Laura and I were not twins, but we had always looked a lot alike. She had bigger boobs than me back then. She was also thinner. “I can’t believe you three are naked during Thanksgiving!” she chided me and our parents.

“It’s perfectly legal, Laura,” my father explained.

“It doesn’t mean you have to do it around my kids,” my sister insisted. I cringed, and agreed with her in my head, but said nothing. I kept thinking back to how I was when I first entered the Program and how afraid I was about having to parade around my house naked.

My daughter walked out to greet everyone and give them a big hug. She was completely naked except for her shoes. “Grandma! Uncle Roy! Grandpa! Uncle Kenny! Hi Aunt Laura!” and my sister stood back a little and didn’t return the hug. Tim and Erica followed their mother’s lead.

Julie shrugged and didn’t seem incredibly enthusiastic about our family visit. We rarely saw her uncles and aunts, and they had never met their cousins. “I see you’ve met Piggy!”

“Yes, I met Piggy,” my sister said my name like it was a fart, and she had to smell it coming out of her mouth.

“Where is Uncle Herman?” my daughter asked.

“He and I divorced,” Laura explained. She told us very quickly that he cheated on her, and they had recently finalized the divorce. No one had told me about that, so it was also news to me. I didn’t mind that I was kept in the dark. I only needed to know what my husband told me, but in the back of my mind I felt I should have been told this about Laura.

My husband walked out without pants and then saw we had company. He went back into his room and changed. He returned and greeted everybody. He was cool as a cucumber about it even though I am sure he was kicking himself when he went back to his room.

Dewey and Reese wore clothes and greeted their grandparents first. I saw them slip twenties to both of them.

“We heard all about the party games at your party, Brittany! We’d love to see some of those!” Kenny said. He used my old name, and I almost didn’t recognize it again. I smiled and looked at Julie.

“Can we not? I have my kids here,” my sister said. Erica and Tim looked about high school age. I doubted they had ever seen naked people before. They seemed fine. It was Laura who was upset.

I felt new subconscious alarm bells ringing in my head as my sister complained that I should not be naked in front of any of them – even though I had been nude every day for months, in front of thousands of people. It was an uncanny feeling – almost like Déjà vu, feelings I had at the start of the program began to wash over me about just how far the Program expected me to go, being more than I could probably handle. A feeling of inferiority – every time my older sister spoke. I put myself beneath almost everyone, even other Breeders. The only women I felt were not above me might have been Tiffany and Misty’s mothers, and I envied their lives and wished I could experience the same ridicule and shame inflicted upon them. Inferiority should have been easy to accept because I believed myself inferior to almost everyone– but Laura’s presence triggered new and uncomfortable feelings that I could not fully fathom.

It was like an overwhelming amount of dopamine was being released into my brain, but rather than make me feel happy, it made me terrified of the things that I’ve done and how I’ve behaved. I could fully remember my life before the program, and the dopamine made me think that was the time that I preferred over how I live now. The fact that I was naked, and I regret signing up for the Program for the first time in as long as I could remember. I had in my head that as soon as Laura started talking to me, she would see right through me, and I could not stand the thought of Laura being critical of me.

My big sister Laura used to tease me when we were little, but not in the way that I enjoy now. It used to make me cry and feel foolish, and inferior to her on the playground because she was a little older and didn’t want me tagging around. I couldn’t believe, with all the things I had forgotten recently about my life, that now I had picture-perfect clarity on those memories and was terrified of my big sister’s opinion of me – that was it!

Somehow, I was having a very irrational reaction to Laura, and I wanted to suppress those thoughts, fight against them and just be Piggy- accept my place groveling and serving. I felt this tremendous sense of frustration that my sister was at our house, and that she’d question my decisions and make me feel ashamed of the choices that I made in a way that made me feel true terror. I just couldn’t figure out if I were afraid of her reaction or something else! I hadn’t felt this way about anyone else, even my mother. I had been worried about my mom’s reaction when she first visited, but once she accepted my choices and even wished I was like this as a teenager, I was able to deal with that.

I doubted Laura would accept my choices, and I was skeptical that this feeling would pass soon.

Julie showed some discretion and didn’t order me to do anything humiliating or give me a quest to go ask everyone if I could perform a reasonable request. My sister had brought the tension level up in the room with her sour, judgmental face. She looked like me, and I could see the old me in her – but I resented her for even coming to our dinner. She knew what I would be doing.

My grandparents had a gift for Dewey. They knew it would be his birthday soon, and they couldn’t make it because they had planned a trip to the Rockies and didn’t want to wait until Christmas to give it to him.

It was a real cock cage like his Grandfather wore. Dewey’s face turned completely red. “Your father says you’ve met a girl who likes when you put this on?”

“Just to cover up my tiny dick, Grandma!”

“You can thank your Grandfather’s genetics for that, young man. I didn’t mean to offend you with this gift. Do you want me to take it back?”

“No, no, I’ll take it. I like it.”

“Would you let your Grandma see you in it?” My mom asked sweetly, with a hint of mischief in her tone.

“MOM!” my sister shouted indignantly.

“What? I want Dewey to take a picture next to his Grandfather. Their little cages almost match! Your kids have seen your Grandpa wearing one. What’s the difference if Dewey does or they take a picture together?”

Laura acquiesced, and Dewey graciously wanted to take it to his room to change into new cock cage.

“What’s the big deal? Put it on out here. I can help you attach it. I know all about the little locks,” his Grandmother offered.

Dewey reluctantly stripped in front of his entire family. His tiny little penis looked even smaller. My mom shook her head at Dewey’s tiny cock like it was a disgusting piece of shrimp that had fallen on the floor that nobody would want.

His cousin Erica seemed the most amused of everyone. His grandmother locked his penis away. I felt like she was emasculating my son, and I wanted to speak up, but I was too bashful and felt I shouldn’t complain. It was what Dewey wanted to do. My Mom asked if she could wear the key to his lock on her ankle for the evening.

“Sure, Grandma! Does this make me your slave?” Dewey asked.

“Do you want to be my slave?”

“Yeah, kind of! You can tell me what to do, like Piggy and Ham Pocket!”

“Who is Ham Pocket?” Betty snickered. I almost didn’t think of her as my mom any longer, just my son’s grandmother. I think Julie didn’t want everybody to know she was Ham Pocket, at least judging by her face. She raised her hand and smiled by admitting she was “Ham Pocket”.

“Julie was our slave for like two or three weeks! It was fantastic!” Dewey bragged.

“Really? You must live in a very exciting and naughty house!” Betty was impressed by the story.

“I just kind of tired of it! I wanted to try it,” Julie admitted. “It was a good learning experience, Grandma.”

My sister became irate that anyone would discuss slavery and BDSM relationships around her and her kids. Yet, she did not leave. She remained and made angry faces.

“Alright, slave. Be my footstool. How about that?” Grandma gave Dewey the instruction with the same cheerful smile that she might have once offered him a freshly baked oatmeal cookie.

Dewey was only happy to get on the ground, ball up, and present his back to his grandmother while she set her feet on his back.

“Lucky boy,” my father joked.

“You can be my footstool, Grandpa!” Julie smiled at him invitingly.

“This old back isn’t as good as it once was. I am afraid the arthritis won’t let me,” my Dad said reluctantly as he extended his curled-up fingers to show how they were afflicted with some sort of deep pain and arthritis. I hadn’t seen him like that on my recent birthday when he visited last.

“Get on the ground for your Granddaughter, and stop being such a little pussy, Stanley. The only thing you have is HYPER-chondria and a limp dick.”

Stanley smiled at his ruse and offered his seat to my daughter. He took up a position like Dewey so she could use his back. “Hyperchrondia?” Julia asked if it was a real thing.

“If it isn’t, it should be. Your Grandpa gets so hyper about telling me all the reasons he can’t do something, he expends more energy on excuses than he would if he just does what I told him in the first place, and he’d save himself a spanking! These are all ailments that exist mostly in his mind! And are always much less severe than he makes them out to be. Stanley has such little pain tolerance. It’s really a shame. There are so many devilish things I could do with a young grandson who was willing to let me crush his balls” Betty quipped playfully, leaned up and slapped Dewey on the rump.

“OH!” Dewey shouted.

“Tsk ... tsk ... just like your grandfather,” Betty shook her head with disappointment and sat back. She pointed out that my Dad was fit as a fiddle and bragged about how I kicked him in the balls the last time he was there, and he jumped right back up after it was over.

My brothers laughed about that, but I felt intensely guilty for hurting a man, even one in a cock cage, that wanted me to do it. I thought I couldn’t be embarrassed, but I regretted being requested to hurt him. I felt ashamed of my son and my father for being weak men and letting women rest their feet on them. I felt ashamed that I had hurt my father. I felt most ashamed of how Laura perceived me for being a Breeder.

“One day, you really ARE going to have something wrong with you, and then no one will believe you, Stanley!” My mom chided him.

He nodded and admitted that it was true. My husband was reticent while all this was going on. His family couldn’t be there for Thanksgiving. Jim was never all that close to mine. He was usually the center of attention, but when other people came over, he liked to be in the background.

“You didn’t like being a slave, sweetheart?” My Dad sweetly asked Julie as he pretended his bones were cracking in several places and got down on his hands and knees to allow her to rest her pretty bare feet on his naked back. “What’s not to love about having feet on your back?”

“I’ll switch with you in a little while, Grandpa, and you can rest your feet on MY back,” Julie smiled at him sweetly. “I think I was just getting tired of getting big things shoved up my ass. I didn’t like the constant humiliation and embarrassment. I liked some of it, but I am not gung-ho like my mom is. It was a fun experience. I asked for a male-dominated household just to see what it was like.”

“Oh honey, I could have saved you the trouble,” my mother laughed and said that they suck.

“I enjoyed it!” Dewey shared emphatically from beneath his Grandmother’s feet.

“Well, how does it work being a slave boy in a male-dominated house, Dewey? Or do you have a pet name like your sister and mom?” My mom asked.

“No, I am just Dewey. I wasn’t a slave. I was one of the Masters.”

Betty laughed the loudest, but the others chuckled at that notion. I could imagine that hurt Dewey’s feelings.

“Piggy, come rub your mother’s pretty feet, please. It’s a request,” My mom saw me standing off to the side, watching the spectacle play out. I did as she asked, knelt down next to my son, and massaged her feet. They were well manicured, toenails painted, but the bottoms were scratchy, and she had bunions.

Normally, I would want to suck nasty feet like this, lick the bottoms, taste the salt, but the fact that Laura was here made me feel spasms in my tummy, like I shouldn’t be squatting at my mother’s feet at all, much less massaging her feet.

“Very good, Piggy!” my mom patted my head like I was a dumb but loyal dog. I didn’t pant or pretend to be a puppy. I kept a stony expression and wondered why my mom didn’t call me Brittany. That was my name after all, and she had given it to me. It was just a fleeting thought.

“Mom! How could you do this stuff around my kids? You know I don’t like it,” Laura spoke up. I froze in place and stopped rubbing my mother’s feet. I didn’t see her kids freaking out. The were sitting there passively talking to Reese and Julie. It seemed like an excuse that my sister was using to be pissy.

“Laura, you’ve been over my house many times, and you know we are nudists, and you know your father does all the cooking and cleaning and is my cuckold.”

“What is a cuckold, Grandma?” Dewey asked.

“A cuckold is a very special man, who likes to watch his wife with other men, and then take care of her after. Some women need a lot more sex than that special man can provide, and we take men who are particularly well-endowed and skilled at sex as our bulls. Bulls are just to fill sexual needs though, no emotion or love between us.”

“Okay, then that’s what I am, a Cuckold. I am not a slave. I just like it when my girlfriend makes out with other guys, her sisters or her brother, and I get to watch.”

There was raucous laughter from most of my family, but Laura was aghast.

“It can be very entertaining, can’t it, son?” my Dad asked Dewey knowingly.

“Do you like peeping or participating?” Betty asked my son. He didn’t understand the question, so she explained it. “Stanley likes participating by watching on a stool. If he behaves, I’ll allow him to masturbate but only orgasm with my permission after I have my needs met, if he is a good boy.”

Dewey smiled, and my Dad winked at him and flashed a big grin.

“I am in a disciplinary wives club. It’s a group of like-minded ladies with weak, pathetic husbands with tiny cocks like Stanley,” my mom said it so plainly as if it should be something Dewey had heard of before. “We get together, have a little wine, talk about how our husbands are progressing with discipline, trade recipes, have sex with our bulls, and our husbands clean us up and wait on us. A few of the men like to hide in the closet or look through the window like they are peeping toms watching from the outside. A few of them participate by helping get our bulls ready for us to have sex with. Do you like to hear how your girlfriend has sex with other men?”

“Oh, I don’t care. My girlfriend texts me pictures of her sucking cock or doing it in front of me. I’ve never been invited to watch in person or participate. I’ve never peeped on her unless you count staring at her from a distance while she makes out with her sisters when I am at her house.”

My mom was thrilled to hear that my son was a cuckold. I didn’t know that he did that. I usually felt that I should only be told what I need to do to be a better whore. I felt like Laura would see me as a bad mom for not knowing that my son likes watching his girlfriend get railed by other men and have sex with her sisters.

I was starting to feel deep, uncontrollable anxiety, while I continued massaging my mother’s feet.

“Every time we come here, we find out one of you is into something really naughty!” my mom chuckled and asked Reese what he was into now.

“I’ve been going to school naked every now and then, but really nothing much now that Ham Pocket is back to Julie. That was fun while it lasted,” he sounded really disappointed.

“Not everything is meant to last; when you are a teenager, you should live day to day, and not make any commitments!” Betty offered as she took a sip of some vodka that I had served her earlier.

“Julie committed to basically being our slave until Fall, with a three-day trial, and then changed her mind just recently, so Reese has sore balls about it,” Jim said. “We all do, but it is what it is. Who wants to watch some Football?” he changed the subject.

I felt bad for Jim. He was really sad that my daughter had the audacity to not want to serve him and be his slave. I wasn’t mad at Julie though. I felt it was imperative that Julie remain my Trainer for as long as possible. Even knowing that made me feel less anxious about my sister being there.

He flipped on the TV, and the guys argued about what teams were the best while I finished the foot massage and prepared the Thanksgiving dinner.