Chapter 4

“Do I even know my own mom at all?” Tracey wondered aloud some time later. We’d been sitting on the couch in my condo and her mom was in my bedroom asleep on my bed.

I wasn’t going to answer that impossible question at first, then decided my infinite wisdom was in order. “Does anyone really know anyone else?” That was it. End of wisdom from me.

“Charles, you tol’ me off fer answering a question with a question, remember? Why is it okay for you to if its not okay fer me?”

She had a point. Of course I’d told her that because I was trying to get answers from her at the time, not additional questions about me. “Hell, Tracey. I don’t know. About whether or not you know your mom, that is. You’ve spent more time with her than me. maybe you know the private person she is and nothing about her other persona? Which reminds me, its your turn to check on Bebbs.”

“She’s still asleep. Thank you, Sir,” Tracey said after checking the bedroom. “She’s already had enough fucking shocks fer one day. I never thought of makin’ sure she doesn’t wake up and wig out at the unfamiliar room and stuff. What I meant before was that I just thought Bebbs was ... fuck! How can I stop calling her Bebbs now, even though I now know Fuckface named her that? Anyway, I just thought mom was a shitty mother. Never home, always broke even though she worked day an’ night. Even the shit she did mighta been coz Fuckface tol’ her to. Like makin’ me call her Bebbs. Fucking best ever blowjob babe? Can you even imagine askin’ yer own daughter to call you that?”

“Well you did say she gives good BJ’s,” I admitted, trying to inject some humor into the situation. My attempt fell flat. Tracey took me seriously.

“And what if she only got ta be good at BJ’s coz of Fuckface?” Tracey wondered, then paused before exclaiming, “What if Fuckface made her quit her job and start hooking? My fuckin’ God! How could she? What did he do to her?”

“Tracey, stop it! You want to find out what you really want know about your mom? You have to ask her! Right now you’re jumping to all sorts of conclusions based on partial input and wishful thinking. What if your mom is simply a whore and she fell into the clutches of the worst kind of person as a result? If that’s true, then yes, she’s better off now but whether its true or not, we have to figure out where to go from here.” I pointed out as reasonably as I could.

“What do ya mean, Sir? We’re stayin’ with you and you figure that out. I thought that part was all settled?”

“I remember an offer to have both you and your mom as my slaves in training, but that was just a joke,” I said, admitting my confusion.

“You never said you was jokin’! I thought we’d already started an’ everythin’!” Tracey was beginning to get worked up again.

I figured todays events at Archie’s on top of everything else she was going through, was beginning to effect her more deeply than I knew how to deal with. What I hadn’t expected was for her to reiterate her earlier offer.

“You cant offer me your mom, Tracey! What you and I do is between us. Think about it for a second. Days ago, Archie and your mom go off on a yacht. It didn’t sound much like she had a choice. Now you’re sitting here telling me you thought I’d already accepted your offer of your mom and you in exchange for a place to live and training in how to be better females. Doesn’t Bebbs even get a choice at last?”

“Charles Crab! We talked about this too.” Tracey was replacing worry with anger, or at the very least, assertiveness. “You said that submissive women shouldn’ be forced to choose, if they don’ want to. Mom called Fuckface, Master. Ya’ll heard that too. What else could it mean than that mom is submissive? So she don’ git to choose, okay?”

Tracey had some weird-ass logic going on in her head. She was sitting there explaining to me that her mom must be submissive so it was okay for Tracey to make her mom’s decisions for her. A decision that she, by her own logic, shouldn’t have been making either.

“How about if we hold off on any more decisions until your mom can join us, then? That way you can hear her choose for me to be responsible for her welfare,” And training, I thought to myself but didn’t add aloud. “I just don’t think I should take over like Archie seems to have.

“But what if’n she says no? What’ll I do? That is so not fair, Sir.”

Once again she’d confused me. “If she says no, it’s no. How does that effect you?”

“Master! Don’t play with me like this, please. I asked for trainin’ just like you said. You accepted me. How can I do the trainin’ stuff if’n I’m not livin’ here?

Tracey had put me in the hot seat. I now had to decide whether to shit or get off the pot. I was going to either have Tracey move in with me and teach her how to be the perfect submissive to suit my wildest fantasies and darkest urges or to tell her it was all a big mistake and I had fed her a line of bullshit this morning. To be honest, having Tracey here would screw up my life but not having her around would be ... shit. She was growing on me so quickly that I WANTED her around.

Then I realized that Tracey simply couldn’t grasp the concept that she was nineteen years old and didn’t HAVE to live with her mom anymore. It seemed like in her mind it was her AND her mom or neither of them. Fuck!

My earlier thoughts about having Butter as a backup slut came back to haunt me at that moment, but now, Butter had been replaced with Bebbs, or rather, Beverly – who was possibly a preferable choice anyway. Butter was a self-centered bitch and didn’t even do much to hide the fact. I’d figured that out in less than ten minutes from the time I’d met her. On the other hand, I knew nothing at all about Beverly except as an extension of her daughter. A daughter who didn’t seem to mind sharing me with her own mom. I wondered how much sharing she’d agree to. The only way to find out was to ask. Now I had to follow my own damned advice to Tracey. Sometimes I piss myself off more gooder than ever.

“Tracey. Ummm ... the problem could be that you don’t clearly understand what the training I mentioned involves. I covered it with you and you understood it. Now picture that same training but with your mom kneeling next to you.”

“But, Master, that’d be great! maybe YOU don’ unnerstand. I know I rag on Beb ... mom, but she’s kinda bin my only friend since grade school. When she’s home, we do everthin’ together. This’d be jus’ like training with my best friend, ya know?”

This conversation was harder than I’d expected. I’d forgotten how naive Tracey was in some ways. Her street-smarts kept making me forget. And part of me was just plain chicken about coming out and clearly stating some of the thoughts that had bounced around in my head when I thought of two hot chicks - mother and daughter - plus me, alone in a room. I took a deep breath and steeled myself for the inevitable explosion when my intentions became clear.

“Tracey, baby. I would be fucking both of you and directing action between the two of you. It is exciting to me to think of making you go down on Bebbs, as much as ordering Bebbs to go down on you. If you refused, I’d be forced to keep punishing you until you agreed.”

I couldn’t help it. I’d partially chickened out while being totally honest with Tracey. Instead of calling her, ‘mom’ or ‘mother’, I’d called Beverly, ‘Bebbs’ - her whore name.

“Okay, Master.” Tracey didn’t hit the roof or blanche or even react particularly strongly one way or the other. She just seemed to accept that it would be a part of her training. The thought that Tracey was the kind of crazy I loved hit me much stronger than my announcement to her.

“Okay then,” I agreed in stunned disbelief. There was nothing more to say except to either accept or reject her offer. Or wait for Beverly to join the conversation. That last option seemed so much more attractive than the first, that I jumped on it if for no other reason than to put off making a decision at all, for a little while longer at least.

Tracey wanted to make me commit. She spent the next hour trying, but I can be as stubborn as a mule when I want to be and I certainly wanted to be. In her mind, the deal was a slam-dunk. In mine, it was a disaster waiting for a place to happen even though the alternative was most likely to result in losing Tracey all together. That made me wonder when I’d begun to think of Tracey as, ‘mine’ in the first place, which made me wonder what the problem was. My mind seemed to just shut down after I thought of the good look at a naked Beverly I got at Archie’s whore house. I know that’s the point my decision was made but I had to somehow convince Beverly it’d be in her best interest too. I was certain that wasn’t going to happen, so I just stopped thinking about either of them and instead, began to wonder what I was missing on TV.

Beverly cautiously wandered out of my bedroom wearing the blanket from the back seat of my beamer, at about six in the evening. She saw Tracey first, followed by me. Her eyes got huge, which is really saying something because she had wonderfully large eyes to begin with. I love large, dark eyes. Anyway, she saw Tracey and seemed to deflate as relief washed over her.

“BUBBY! You’re here! Ummm ... where exactly is here anyway and ummm ... who are you? Is this your place?”

“Bebbs! This is Charles, or Chuck, or Master, an’ yep, this here’s his place,” Tracey answered with a grin, leaping off the couch to go to her mother.

“I’m not Bebbs anymore, Bubby. Archie ... took that away from me,” I heard as the girls hugged. Beverly was talking quietly, her words intended only for her daughter, but the pain in her voice made it impossible for her to whisper as quietly as she’d planned.

“I’ve really done fucked up this time, Trace. I just ... Fuck ... an’ here I was all happy that Archie had fin’ly come through on a promise. I was so fuckin’ worried that he’d just blow it off like he usually does. So yer aint disowning your ol’ mom? Or did I fuck that up too by gettin’ fired?” Beverly whispered to Tracey.

“Hey, hold on a second. Did ya just call that guy Charles or Master?” Beverly demanded in a normal volume of voice, holding Tracey back at arms length so she could look into her daughter’s eyes.

I had been thinking the same thing. When Tracey had seen her mom, she’d just called me Master like it was a standard name someone could call me. There’d been no hesitation or embarrassment, just a happy statement as she rushed to her mother. Now, as I watched the females standing elbow length apart and Beverly asking Tracey if she’d really just called me Master, my little head was pointing out to me that the blanket had slipped and was in danger of completely falling off Beverly. Ever tried to focus on a conversation two people across a room are having while being while being visually assaulted by the possibility of seeing naked boobs? Ginormous naked boobs. The kind of boobs a bust job could never in a million years, mimic. Huge fun bags with their own jewelry. Yeah, my mind was having a difficult time focusing on actual words.

“It’s a long story ... mom. But if Fuckface Archie thinks he can take away yer name he has to have shit fer brains. I don’ care if Bebbs means yer good at BJ’s OR if it means yer a big titted bimbo, kay? I love ya anyways. And yer gonna stay with Charlie and be trained to be a good girl now, kay? Yer just gotta ask Master Charles first. He’s gonna train me too. He said so!”

Well that wasn’t how I pictured this conversation going. I don’t know why anything Tracey does surprises me, but hell, in one or two sentences, Tracey had just told her mom what her future held. AND she’d twisted our conversation around into something it never was. I didn’t really care if Beverly hated me, but ... well so much for avoiding giving Beverly more shocks to deal with. I might as well enjoy being a spectator to THIS particular conversation. Now all I had to do was sit back and watch the fireworks fly ... and hope that blanket finally bit the dust ... figuratively speaking of course. My condo is NOT dusty.

“Look, Tracey. If yer really saying that yer Charlie’s sub, I guess that’s yer business. But ya need to think it through real careful. I got me started down this path as a goof and look where it led. Yer mommy is a fucking whore now! Or was, till a little while ago. I caint even fucking do that to put food on the table no more. Archie will do worse to me ‘n he did to Butter. He called her that, ya know? She used to be Teresa till he cut her up. Then he laughed and called her Butterface because she has a smokin’ body but her face is fucked up. I’d kill myself if’n he did that ta me. I’m not strong like Teresa.”

“Master Charles is different, mom. He don’ even think he wants ta train me let alone you too and he wants all kinds of fucking rules and shit. I trust him mommy. And I love him.”

Damned if the girl wasn’t making shit up again! I told her she couldn’t love me yet. We’d only met the day before! As for the part about rules, I wracked my brain trying to remember when I’d mentioned needing a bunch of rules. Sure, there HAD to be rules and limits and shit, but had I actually said that or was Tracey’s mind joining a bunch of dots I couldn’t see? Tracey is definitely astute. There’s no denying that.

“I’m glad yer happy Trace,” Beverly said, pulling her daughter in for another hug, pinning that damned blanket between them.

I briefly wondered if women have an innate ability to tease. That blanket falling off her would have been cool, but just when I thought I was gonna get a free encore of a naked Beverly, the damned women pinned it back in place using her own daughter’s body.

Then on top of that, I thought I’d be watching world war three start and Beverly just said she was pleased her daughter was happy. She was SUPOOSED to go ballistic on Tracey’s ass. She was SUPPOSED to freak out at Tracey’s suggestion that Beverly ask for permission to submit to me. She was at least SUPPOSED to say something bitchy about men in general, or me in particular, to prove to me that she was just like the rest of their species. Instead she fucking hugged Tracey, ignored the offer and said she was glad Tracey was happy. What the fuck is the world coming to?

Tracey broke the hug and with some weird excitement, led her mom over to where I sat. There was nothing to do for it but to stand up and hold out my hand for a shake. “Hi, I’m Charles, Chuck or Charlie Crab. Your lovely daughter is getting ahead of herself. We honestly only met yesterday,” I apologized.

“Well Tracey is wearing clothes what I didn’t buy her and she’s fucking smiling for the firs’ time in forever. On top of that, we’re standing in yer house after ya saved me. No wonder she fucking loves you. If you’d met me first, I’d be the one what was in love,” She smiled. “C’mere, Charles,” Beverly demanded, then didn’t wait but instead stepped up to me and gave me a really full-bodied hug followed by a kiss on my cheek.

What did I do? What could I do! I put my arms around her to steady myself. She was fucking tiny too. She had to stand on tiptoe to kiss my cheek and as I said, her body was molded to mine. Unfortunately, my little head, the one waiting for the nip-slip was at full attention at the time. Fucking Beverly not only noticed but commented.

“Is that a hard cock in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” She asked with a grin, butchering the famous May West line.

“Ahhh ... sorry,” I mumbled, trying to pull away. Beverly didn’t want me moving away.

“Feels to me like Tracey found a winner,” Beverly eventually laughed, letting me go and at that moment, the blanket finally slipped to the floor.

There IS a God! I said to myself, unable to help myself from staring for a moment, burning the fresh image into my brain, before looking away.

“Oops! Beverly giggled, allowing me to hear where Tracey had got her particularly delightful giggle from.

“Oh well, ya seen me nekkid already anyways. This is what Tracey’s gonna look like in a few years. Course she aint got my wrinkles and tummy yet. Lookit me, Charles,” Beverly demanded. “If Tracey loves ya, yer gonna be seeing a bunch of her nekkid. Ya may as well git used to what yer gonna see.”

“Ask him, Bebbs.” Tracey demanded too, as she came up behind her mother. They were a very demanding pair of females, I decided.

Do you think there’s a sort of telepathy between females that allows them to utter a couple of words and express a whole concept? I personally had no idea what Tracey was saying. It was all I could do to adjust my vision back up to Beverly’s face. Even that was only possible because Beverly was so damned cute for an older woman. Older than me, anyway ... she literally HAD to be older than me, right? Well she had demanded I look at her so I was merely obliging her request. Anyway, Beverly seemed to know exactly what Tracey meant.

“He’s YOUR man, Bubby. I’d just be in the way,” Beverly actually sounded sad.

“Yer wont know till yer ask, Bebbs. Git on yer knees and do it proper like, though. Master Charlie showed me but I bet ya already know how ta do it!” Tracey said, sounding way more confident that I personally felt at that moment.

I was just the poor guy with a hard on stuck standing in front of a naked woman with her daughter coaching her from behind. SOMEONE has to feel sorry for my situation. I was WAY the fuck in over my head. I had gotten past expecting fireworks but I didn’t expect the nod from Beverly.

Beverly dropped to her knees. “I’ll do whatever ya want if its okay fer me to stay?” Beverly said with conviction.

Beverly seemed to have come to some sort of compromise in her head, I decided. She didn’t ask to be my slave, which was kind of a relief, to be honest. I had promised myself long ago that I was done with women then along came Tracey and blew that promise all to hell. Now Tracey’s own mom, who had called a guy, ‘Master’, just hours ago, was offering me their world. But she was still naked and on her knees, which meant she knew exactly what she was offering. No one kneels naked and says they’ll do anything without knowing that anything includes sex.

When Beverly didn’t hear an immediate answer she clarified her offer. “Look Charlie. I’m a whore. Nothing more, nothing less. I fuck who I’m tol’, when I’m tol’. I accept that about myself. Archie made me his slave and I thought that’s what I wanted. But last year he gave me to a new client. A doctor. Since then, doctor has bin tryin’ to convince Archie that it’d be cool to have my arms and legs amputated. Since then, that’s what Archie’s used as his biggest threat. I figured that’s what he was gonna do today. For whatever reason, he fired me today instead of cuttin’ me up but I jus’ hadda push him. He woulda done it fer sure. I AIN’T gonna be a fucking slave who will just let someone cut me up. Ya can fuck me and whip me but I aint gonna be yer slave, kay? And that goes fer fucking Tracey too, dammit! I’ve never bin a good mom but fuck you if you think I’m gonna let my baby be cut up.”

I thought she was going to say I couldn’t have sex with Tracey no matter what. As soon as her actual intent registered, a single word came out of my mouth.

“Deal!” I said before thinking. I was cringing at the thought of my own arms and legs being amputated because someone thought it’d be fun. Fuck! That Archie dude sure knows some freaks!

“Kay, then where’d ya want ta start? I caint strip coz I’m already nekkid but I’ll do whatever,” She insisted, looking up at me from the floor.

Beverly was every bit as intense as her daughter when she was being serious. I probably could have told her to crawl on her hands and knees and go touch her nose to the wall in the corner then stay like that till I told her to move and she would have immediately complied. That’s what it felt like anyway. That’s not what I did.

“Well to be blunt, I don’t have any idea,” I shrugged then continued. “I heard Tracey tell you that I don’t know if I want to train her. What she meant was I don’t know if I CAN train her. I’m just not like Archie. I’m Tracey’s friend and I’ll be your friend too if you want one, but I just don’t know if I can be what you and Tracey need. I’m really just a simple guy who has some weird-ass fantasies. And you’re smoking hot naked. I reeeeeally like that part too. But for now, we have a problem.”

“Problem? You don’ wanna find out why a Bebbs BJ is the best you’ll ever have? If its aright with Tracey? She could watch TV while I take care of yer, ummm ... condition?”

I’d somehow forgotten I was standing there with a fucking bulge in my pants until Beverly had said something. Suddenly I felt consciously horny. That is NOT how I am! I jerk off once every day, or maybe once every week, depending on how I feel. I’d had more use out of my boner since yesterday than I’d had in a year before that.

“No! I mean YES! I mean fuck. I need to start again. Our problem is that I got Tracey a hotel room yesterday and her stuff is there. She’s supposed to check out in the morning. We could go get her stuff but you have nothing to wear and it wouldn’t be right to leave you here by yourself.”

“Tracey’s tol’ you about me, hasn’t she.” Beverly wasn’t asking. “It’s why Archie always did the cavity search. Sometimes I jus’ caint help myself and it just seems right to be checked anymore. Ya’ll caint leave me alone here in case I steal shit. No need to sugar coat it,” she shrugged. “I lie and I steal. Its just who I am.”

“That’s not what I meant, but if you know it’s wrong, then just stop doing it!”

“Yeah and you stop gettin’ boners when ya see tits. Same thing.” Beverly shrugged. A lot of shrugging going on around here, I noted. She also wasn’t being mean. She really meant that as a fair comparison.

“You’re a kleptomaniac?” I asked.

“Ya kin call it whatever the fuck ya like. I just accept I’m a cunt and Archie uses cavity searches ta keep me honest.” Suddenly a new tear formed in her eye and dribbled down her cheek. “Fuck that bastard. I needed him but I hated him, ya know?”