Chapter 25

“Okay sluts, clean our guest’s cute little face-off,” Mom pointed, and Honey and Candy began to lick his face eagerly. “You too

Sugar, you made the mess. The least you can do is lick it clean,” my own mother told me to lick my cunt juices off this strange boy’s face after she let him practice learning to eat pussy on me. I have to admit he did do a good job, but the old me would never have allowed him to use me as a training dummy.

Mom had a thing about cleaning your own fingers after you masturbate with them and those of anyone who inspects you. I was used to the taste of my own juices by now but Kiwi’s mind was blown (again).

He was reeling from the fact he had three naked girls leaning over him and pressing their wet tongues to his face to sponge up my pussy juices. It felt like he was being kissed. He tried to kiss us back enthusiastically. We held him down and cleaned his face while my Mom watched.

“Do a good enough job, and I may let you eat each other out after you get your enemas,” Mom promised.

Kiwi fondled our nipples and touched us. He was still shy about it and did it discretely as if he were accidentally brushing His hand across my nipples. Candy thought it was adorable he was being so polite even though my Mom would have had no problem if he reached up and pulled like he was milking a cow. I would have rathered he gave me a good yank and got it over with. All the delicate brushing and tender touches made me think he was pretending to really like me and that infuriated me for some reason.

Mom put us ass to the nose after we were done in reverse order so that my nose was in Honey’s ass and made us crawl out single file into the living room. Jenny was preparing dinner for Buddy and Lewis.

“Good job, Jenny! Set up the slut’s enemas and their food bowls,” she instructed, and Jenny complied right away. She was used to filling our enema bags and taking care of little things like this for my mother.

“You are going to have stay for dinner at least,” my Mom Offered Kiwi a place at the table and insisted. She promised him she would make Fried chicken. I think Kiwi was more interested in the naked girls parading around him, but he was impossibly polite and shy, and that meant he had to act at least like he didn’t want to stay. Mom wouldn’t take no for an answer though so it was settled. Kiwi was staying with us. My mom had a tendency of getting things her way even though she was a so-called submissive. She had a strong personality. I didn’t understand at the time that most real submissives had very strong wills to be able to continue under discipline.

“Good as gold,” Kiwi was happy. He said he finally admitted he didn’t want to go back to the mansion anyway.

“I don’t know about you spending the night, Kiwi. We’ve only just met,” my mother hadn’t put on a top and was still walking around with her tits out. She was coming across playful, but Kiwi’s shyness and overall naivety around women made it obvious he wasn’t used to that from women.

“I could pay you. I’ve some traveler’s cheques,” he offered politely.

“Nonsense, I wouldn’t think of it. You can stay tonight but in the morning we’ll go looking for your cousin,” my Mom said.

Kiwi put his thumb up to agree as my own cousin stuck an unlubricated enema tube directly into my ass.

I was on all fours waiting in the kitchen with my tits touching the tile next to the other girls. This is how we’d been getting our enemas lately.

“Oh my!” Kiwi looked down at me by his feet with pity on his face. My Mom told me to explain why we were getting an enema.

“We are full of shit, Sir both figuratively and literally. We receive enemas every day to keep our asses empty so that when we are inspected your fingers aren’t made dirty,” I said. That was the official explanation as I had explained to George and anyone else that my mother let watch this poop-water ordeal of cleansing our asses.

The enema was cold water pumped into my ass for 5 minutes. Mom said once we master that we would move up to 10 minutes. The water-filled my ass and caused my belly to get distended. We had to hold it and then dump it in the toilet before shitting and pissing in the bowl in the kitchen. It seemed absolutely absurd, but we weren’t even allowed to sit on the toilet. We had to squat over it.

“This seems like another example of something you do not like?”

Kiwi asked as he sat at the table with Buddy and Lewis while my mother prepared dinner. My brothers were eating Spaghetti-Os and making a mess of things as usual.

“No sir, I am not supposed to take pleasure in the process of eating. It is humiliating to be exposed this way, but you are welcome to watch,” I swallowed as I said what I was taught by my mother to say. The more we repeated things like this, the more “normal” it seemed to be eating on the floor like a dog in front of people while they sat at a table. I hated it!

It was deeply humiliating to let a stranger watch me take an enema, but it would be twice as embarrassing letting him watch me release the brown-stink water out of my ass when I was done.

“Do you want to change? What I mean to say is that the other girls seem to want to stop being cruel and lazy. I get the sense from you that you would rather not?” Kiwi said gingerly as if he had to dance around the subject.

If there was one thing, I hated it was people who can’t just spit it out and say what they mean. Well, that isn’t true, there are lots of things I hated, but that was definitely on the list.

“Yes, I want to change Sir,” I lied. I had to say that, or my Mom would have found some painful new torture to teach me the error of my ways and make me admit I want to change. I was still pretty happy being the bitch that I had been before. I was also still committed to pretending I’d change if it meant I owned my Mom for a week before reverting back to my old self at the earliest opportunity.

The enema was already starting to sting as the cold water flowed freely into my anal cavity and my asshole puckered and gripped the nozzle.

“I had an Uncle once,” Kiwi started to tell me a boring story about his Uncle. I really hate when people tell me things I don’t care about. I pretended to be interested and looked up at him while he spoke about this drunken old Uncle.

“He had a drinking problem. He loved his bourbon. He said he could quit anytime he liked. He lost his job. His wife left him, his health started to fail him and yet the only answers to all of

his problem was down in the bottle,” Kiwi explained.

I had no idea what this had to do with me or what we were

doing. It seemed like a depressing and stupid story, and since it had nothing to do with me, I hated listening to it because I felt like this was going to be a pointless lecture.

“I asked him if he could quit then why didn’t he?” Kiwi said, and he told me that his Uncle would always make excuses or say he was going to quit. “I just have to get past this rough patch,” Kiwi said that his Uncle’s excuses were endless about changing. “He

made the same face you are making when I ask you this question.

He didn’t really want to quit. A big part of him knew he should.

His liver was failing, and his life was falling apart. It took him hitting rock bottom. He ended up in hospital and was told he’d die if he didn’t quit,” Kiwi said.

I really could not care less where this story was going. The enema was

challenging enough to keep squeezed tight in my asshole without

listening to THIS asshole tell me about someone I’d never meet

who was probably dead anyway.

“Still he had not hit rock bottom, so he celebrated his recovery the night he was released from the hospital. He got completely munted,” Kiwi laughed about his stubborn old Uncle. He sounded like my kind of person on some level. “He hit a boy that night with his car and completely carked it. The boy ended up dead, and my Uncle lost an arm and an eye,” he said.

That was dark. Where was this going? He had my interest now. I did like stories where people other than me got fucked over somehow.

“He said he could change, but he couldn’t do it on his own. My Uncle said he wanted to change, but his face was like yours when he did. He couldn’t do it on his own. He joined AA 12 Step program, and the first step is to admit you have a problem. He needed the support of other addicts like Honey and Candy with a problem. He needed a sponsor like your Mum. He needed to go through the 12step program and some steps he had to do again and again until he got them right,” Kiwi said.

I saw what he was trying to say, but I didn’t think I had a problem and I wasn’t going to run over any boys with my bitchiness.

“I’m no expert but looking at you I don’t think you hit rock bottom yet to realize you need help enough to want to change,” he said as I squatted over my own food dish when it was my turn and fart-blasted my enema water in front of him.

Kiwi turned up his nose and laughed a little as I picked it up to carry it to the bathroom. I pretended to listen to him, and some of what he said must have sunk in because I remember it well enough to describe it to you. That night he watched as we went through the rest of our regular training routine. The punishments, stretching, binding, and practicing talking or walking a certain way.

My Mom had a lot of rituals we had to endure, and she was never satisfied with my performance. She always wanted me to lift my knees higher, or spread my pussy flaps wider or bend over more deeply. She made us practice sucking dildos stuck to the wal while looking in the mirror. She slapped my face when she caught me staring at myself because I was so vain.

I wanted to tell her that it was unfair to let me look at myself and then expect me not to fall in love with my own beauty, but I held my tongue. I found it easier after the training to restrain myself from making snarky comments like that. In the old days, I’d just blurt out the first mean thing that occured to me but now I was reluctant to offend my mother.

Doing so would mean instant punishment and my Mom didn’t limit herself to spanking. She used rope to hang us upside down. She made us suck doorknobs or lemons. She put a little piece of Alka seltzer in my pussy and made me dance after I said something particularly hateful about Candy’s fat ass.

My Mom never took Kiwi looking for his cousin the next morning-after that. I think something about what he said that night had changed her opinion of him tremendously. She let him sleep in my old bedroom. Jenny was tied up under the bed and Kiwi slept on the bottom bunk. Mom didn’t worry that Kiwi would take advantage of Jenny while she slept bound up under the bed.

That evening Mom had made us go to Mrs. Hannigan’s house with Kiwi. Vicki Waxerman made goo-goo eyes at Kiwi. She thought he had a delightful “Posh British” accent. Kiwi stopped trying to explain he was from New Zealand after the third try. Vicky’s Aunt was making her study the dictionary. They didn’t even own a Television. It was so primitive over in their house. It smelled like mothballs and old antiques.

We received a dog cage from them big enough that the three of us could pile in. Most nights, we would have our wrists tied behind our backs and sleep together in that cage with our bodies intertwined in the living room. Asses pressed to tits, mouths to mouth. It was gross, but there were times we could masturbate each other or eat each other out. It was sort of a favor to one another. We weren’t supposed to be doing that, but Candy and Honey reciprocated when I

did it to them. “Please do the vortex,” I’d whisper.” I’ll do the vortex on your butthole,” Candy laughed.

“No, really, you are down by my cunt. Please, Candy?” I begged.

“Did you just call your pussy a cunt? And your Mom isn’t listening?” she whispered into my pussy. Teasing me with her wet lips touching my clit.

“Yes,” I answered. I wasn’t sure why I called my pussy a cunt voluntarily. The training was having a very subtle effect on how I viewed myself.

Kiwi helped with the training the next day. We all sucked his cock, and Mom began teaching him to pull out and shoot on our faces and up our nose. We sucked Jenny’s cock once a day after that every day too. We kissed her cum back and forth in front of her. She looked like she wanted us to kiss it right back into her mouth, and one day I did. She swallowed it all. My Mom spanked me in front of him over her knee and made me promise to never share my punishment with her again. “My training has nothing to do with your training. I am sorry, Miss Jenny. I should never have presumed to spit your cum back into your mouth. That is for sluts like me to gobble and play with. I am a dumb cunt, Ma’am”.

Jenny loved watching me get spanked almost as she liked getting spanked herself.

Jenny didn’t get to watch us getting our pussies eaten, but she did get to watch us suck Kiwi’s cock. She liked watching that too.

Kiwi didn’t eat pussy as often as he had that first Sunday but he was getting better and better at it. My Mom taught him to make us really crave it and to be stingy with his tongue while at the same time teaching us to deep throat and be hungry for his dick.

It was cruel and made me want to behave and please him if only to get a little relief on my clitty after a long day of torments.

That week Mom made us go outside and play with the Donaldsons. We usually ended up as ponies, but sometimes they’d want to get painted up and go to the beach again. I have to admit that I was growing closer to Honey and Candy because of our shared humiliations.

They were both adapting much better than I was to the routine trainings and drills that we had to endure.

We also cleaned houses usually once a day, and we even cleaned someone’s pool. I am not sure if we did a good job or not because we didn’t know what we were doing, but the old man sure did like three young girls and my Mom in painted-on bikinis pretending to scrub his pool and splashing around.

Kiwi was always with us when we went on these training excursions. At first, he was just quietly observing and awkwardly standing around.

We were cleaning Mr. Greenbaum’s house three times a week at this point. It was spotless from top to bottom, and it was entirely a farce to have us get naked and re-mop and dust his house in the nude. We knew that, but it was also a chance for my Mom to train us around someone who didn’t mind if we got spanked on the spot.

Early in the week when my Mom brought us over to Mr. Greenbaum’s house to clean, she told Kiwi to make himself useful. My Mom stripped at the door just like we did. She liked to jiggle and wiggle her ass and titties in front of Mr. Greenbaum when she supervised us, and he liked to watch.