Chapter 19

Charity laid across my belly as long as Master Thorne would allow us to take his chair. He had figured out why I was reluctant to let her stand up.

“Ruthie would be happy to take care of that for you discreetly if your mom won’t,” he said to me with his deep, somber voice.

“I think I’ll be fine,” I said as I let Charity stand up and stretch. She was sticky and tired.

“Waste not want not! Do you mind if Ruthie licks it off your slave’s belly?” he asked me to let his slave lick my cum off my own mother’s belly.

“Not at all, I still owe you a frozen margarita,” I said as I dusted myself off. My dick was only half-hard, and despite the rule, I had been told about no boners I noticed a lot of guys with semi-hard dicks walking around the pool area.

I am not gay, and I don’t have any fascination with peckers, but I have to say that was one thing that seeing the dicks of all these other men was very validating. I know I am weak, scrawny, and not particularly handsome, but at least I had a pretty average sized cock. It wasn’t nine inches long but seeing what some grown men had between their legs I wondered how they even got it inside a pussy in the first place.

Almost every male slave had a cock cage, and it made their cocks look small anyway. I am talking about guys my age and older though who weren’t collared. They could be buff as hell with all sorts of muscle and a pretty face, but the great equalizer at a nudist pool is that girls can look right down between their legs and instantly know if they want to fool with that little dingus or take a hard pass.

I didn’t have a monster cock, but I didn’t feel like a slouch either. I watched Ruthie sit up and lick my cum-drippings off Charity’s tummy like a dog before returning her to the pee squat position.

I didn’t have to go far to find Lucy and Simon. They were playing and joking around.

“Ooh, I am telling Daddy! You spanked Mary!” Lucy said.

“She is Charity now, and she did a bad thing,” I corrected her.

“What did she do?” Simon asked as we splashed together.

I told him to mind his own business, but naturally, my little brother and sister were not going to stop asking. I knew they had questions and they probably felt I was going to get in trouble when Dad found out. I probably WAS going to get in trouble when Dad found out.

“She dropped her butt plug on the ground,” I said dismissively. “I handled it. It is done now. She can’t do that at the pool,” I explained that this was just how it was.

“So? You aren’t the boss of her anyway. I am going to tell Dad,” Lucy assured me.

“I am going to tell him the same thing. They expected her to be punished and he wasn’t here,” I shrugged and splashed around.

“Who are they?” Simon asked me to explain who told me it was alright to punish Charity.

“Everyone around me,” I shrugged. I was uncomfortable that Simon was questioning me and making me second guess my decisions.

“If everyone jumped off a bridge, would you?” Lucy asked me, and I stuck my tongue out at her. She stuck her tongue right back.

“You better not try punishing me!” she insisted, and I told her that shouldn’t be a problem. She wasn’t a slave, and she wasn’t under the same expectations.

“What if you aren’t here? Are we supposed to punish her?” Simon asked.

That was a good question. I told him Dad would tell us what we need to do if we go out with her and he isn’t around.

“Was rubbing her down with lotion part of the punishment?” Simon grinned, and Lucy did too.

“I had to put lotion on her because you both ran off,” I said.

“On her front parts?” Simon made the universal symbol for big tits with his hand and smirked.

“Slaves can’t touch themselves in public. People might think they were playing with themselves,” I said.

“I thought you were playing with her!” Lucy’s tone suggested she thought it was naughty.

“Well, I wasn’t!” I lied - I totally was playing with her. I knew that I had done more than innocently rub lotion on her body. I didn’t want to admit it to my little sister. I definitely didn’t want to tell them that the lotion had my jizz in it. The more I thought about it the more I regretted what I had done but it was too late now to change any of it. I acted like I was completely justified in everything I had just done.

“Does that mean that if I want you to put lotion on my front parts you will? You don’t want people to think I am playing with myself do ya?” Simon asked with a sarcastic grin.

Lucy smirked and doggy paddled around us before performing an eloquent pirouette in the water. “Yeah? Will you lotion up my butt so it’s obvious I am not playing with it, Matt?” she teased me.

I had no response to that question –especially applying lotion directly in my little sister’s pretty little ass crack the way I had with Charity! I didn’t think either were serious about letting me put lotion on them. The question still made me extremely uncomfortable.

It was time for a splash fight. I needed a splash fight to end these questions that made me second guess all of my decisions.

I drenched my little brother and sister and began to tease them back. “How about I lotion you up with some water to the face? Would you like that?” I teased them right back.

Simon wouldn’t let it drop.

I wanted to turn the question around and ask him if he would lotion me up. I was afraid the answer might have been yes. It would have probably been he do it than my little sister or Charity.

Instead, I admitted I didn’t know. They couldn’t argue with that and they seemed surprised by my reaction. It seemed like the most mature response I could provide them.

“I am sure Dad will tell us what we should do. If I made a mistake, then I’ll learn from it,” I explained. That wasn’t like me. I am the one who worries and incessantly gets myself upset, thinking about scenarios of what could go wrong. They looked at me like they wondered what happened to their brother Matt and who was this mature stranger talking to them now.

“Well, I am not applying lotion to your fronts OR your backs!” Lucy pouted with a grin and insisted we wouldn’t be doing her either. She splashed us both and we splashed her back.

I told her that I understood her point of view and consent is essential with free people. “Charity doesn’t look at consent the same way. Consent to her is whatever dad says she consents to do. You heard her this morning talking to Eddie about the orientation and how it was all up to Dad what was best for her. Dad wasn’t here, I made a judgment call - right or wrong,” I admitted. If it was a mistake I’d live with the consequences.

“I hope he spanks YOUR butt the same way,” Lucy stuck her tongue out at me.

I floated around a little more after that and saw Waverly and her sister. They were watching and laughing as what appeared to be their little brother got a spanking of his own right out in the open near their cabana.

“Hey, you don’t need lessons from Moxxi. You already know how to spank an ass,” I heard a familiar voice behind me. It was Master McGifford’s daughter Claire. She lived next door to us. She seemed impressed with me and the way she surged forward a little in the water I felt she was coming on to me.

“Thanks!” I said and said I was surprised she saw that.

“Everybody saw it. The DJ put it up on the HD screens,” Claire rose out of the water and revealed her stunning tits up-close as she pointed to the screens around the pool area. Most of them were showing sports, but a few were highlighting some of the pool guests having fun.

I started to get a little red-faced.

An old Nelly song was playing over the loudspeakers at that moment.

Baby, I love you
And I need you
Nelly, I love you, I do
Need you.

No matter what I do
All I think about is you
Even when I am with my boo
Boy you know I’m crazy over you

“Ooh, this is my jam! Dance with me,” Claire started to dance in the water as she swayed with me.

“What about your boyfriend?” I asked awkwardly. I didn’t know it back then, but if a pretty girl asks you to dance with her, you should never ask about her current boyfriend’s opinion.

She looked confused and said, “What boyfriend?” She was still shaking in the water a little to the music.

“I saw you talking to him earlier?” I described a handsome, older college boy.

“Was he black?” she asked.

“No, he was white,” I said.

“I only date black guys,” She shook her head at me and then suggested it could have been Joe, her brother. She pointed out Joe and Kyle talking to her father. Joe was handsome, and Kyle was built like me.

She looked flattered. I thought she had a boyfriend, though.

“Checking out the girl next door, huh?” Claire smiled at me like she was impressed and said that I move fast.

“No, I am just very observant,” I said. I knew it sounded geeky. I was trying to think of something witty or charming to say. I felt a hand reach around my waist from behind. It was a younger girl’s hand, and she squeezed my dick hard.

I thought it was Stacy come to ruin this before it even began with some jealous, possessive act and then leave me hanging in the wind when I tell her I am interested.

Imagine my surprise when I turn around and bump into Lindsay’s knockers. She was completely naked, and she was holding my dick in her hand under the water.

“Enter the jealous girlfriend, I am out,” Claire left before I could explain that she made the same mistake I did and assumed I was with Claire.

“If you say a single word about me being naked I will squeeze your balls until they fall off, is that understood?” Lindsay could care less she had just cock-blocked me. Stacy was a silly girl who probably wasn’t going to let me fuck her, but Claire had a devil-may-care look on her face like she was down to fuck if I had the audacity to ask her.

Right now, my balls were in my sister’s hands.

“Dad insisted we come to lunch naked. You don’t take any cell phone pictures. You don’t make comments on what I look like. You don’t look at my body. Your eyes are on my face the entire time, is that understood?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said and asked her to release my nuts.

“Not until you tell me that you made this little cunts life hell? Did you squeeze her cunt like this?” Lindsay was crushing my balls with her hands. I tried to stop her, but as I mentioned, I am not the most athletic guy, and in the water, I just couldn’t get any leverage.

She let go and told me to tell her what I had done.

“I spanked her in front of everyone,” I admitted.

“That is a good start,” Lindsay looked pleasantly surprised and asked me what else.

“I left her unsecured to the beach chair and when I came back a guy was whipping her ass,” I said.

“Yeah, that is good. You weren’t paying attention to her, and she wandered off?” Lindsay asked.

“No, I went to the bathroom, and she failed to warn me to secure her. Slaves can’t be left unattended like that at the pool,” I said.

“When dad asks you tell him that you weren’t paying attention and she wandered off,” she said.

“Dad is going to know what happened because Charity is going to tell him,” I said.

“Your word against hers and I’ll back you up,” Lindsay insisted. I knew she was up to something, but I didn’t know what it was. It definitely involved making me look careless, and I didn’t like that.

“Master Thorne is the guy who whipped her, and he will back up Charity’s side,” I said.

“He is some random loser. Dad is never going to ask to see the guy who punished her. Just say you forgot who he was,” she shrugged that I was stupid.

“He is the one who taught me how to spank Charity. He is sitting right there, and Dad is talking to him now,” I said. I pointed out that Dad was by the beach chair with Charity and Master Thorne.

“That’s fine, it doesn’t matter anyway,” Lindsay said with a look of self-assurance on her face. I knew she wanted to gloat about her evil mastermind plot, so I asked her what she meant. “I gave Dad a cock and bull story about wanting to turn over a new leaf and have a new start in this sweltering shithole,” Lindsay obviously didn’t intend to do that. “I told him that with Charity being unable to tell us what to do around the house that when he is at work, it makes sense for someone to be in charge,” she said.

I shrugged that it was fine. Charity never told us what to do in Atlanta either, and I just had first-hand experience she couldn’t be unsupervised in public.

“I feel sorry for Charity but if you want to be the boss of her and Dad lets you then so be it,” I didn’t care about that. If that was her masterplan, then it seemed stupid to go to all this trouble to involve me.

“You are a small boy with small thoughts,” Lindsay looked at me with disdain. “I will be able to boss Charity around and by extension boss you little monsters around. You will be turds in my toilet bowl, and anytime I say flush you’ll swirl around for me,” She said.

“Strange visual,” I observed.

“It also means I can come and go as I please. Once I am an equal around the house, Dad will not be up my ass so much. I can have boys over, go out all night, and get fucked up. Dad will be happy to have the help, Charity may even like having my foot up her ass, but you little brother definitely won’t like being my bitch,” She grabbed my dick again. This time it was hard, and she let my dong slip through her fingers and scrunched her nose.

I wanted to tell my big sister all the ways this plan could and would backfire. The moment she starts bringing boys over around Lucy or being irresponsible with us, but I thought better of saying anything. I knew Lindsay was devious and she’d probably find some way to make herself look like an innocent angel.

Dad called us to the shore to talk to him. He looked at me for a long time before saying anything.

“Why are you smiling?” he asked me.

“I am just happy,” I said. I was happy it had been a pretty good day and I learned a lot. The real reason I was smiling at that particular moment was my big sister had grabbed my bottle of suntan lotion and was slathering it on her skin while complaining about getting burned.

“Stop gawking at me,” she stopped greasing her body up long enough to sneer at me. She had told me not to look at her but obviously there was no way I couldn’t steal a few glimpses.

Lindsay was an ugly person on the inside. She was shallow, cruel, vain, manipulative and lacked empathy for anyone but herself. On the outside though she was a pretty cheerleader in a fit teenage body. I knew Lindsay had long blonde hair and pretty blue eyes and she cut a striking figure in her cheerleader costume at school. She never had a zit or a blemish on her skin that I could see when we were growing up.

In the nude, she was more than stunning. You could see just the right amount of striations in her leg and back muscles. She wasn’t too muscular like Venus at the gym but she wasn’t soft either. Lindsay had rock hard abs and a pert little butt that stuck straight out. She had athletic, slender legs and no trace of cellulite or wrinkles anywhere.

You could see a lot of women’s assholes or the tip of her plug when they were laying on their back in beach chairs or walking around the pool. No matter what Lindsay did all I could see was a tight butt crack on an even tighter ass.

She had a nice set of that hung in a teardrop shape on her chest. My sister’s boobs shocked me with the way they remained perfectly still when she moved. They were the right size for her body and neither too big or too small. I would have known if Dad paid for breast implants because she would have bragged about it. Lindsay had been blessed with the natural looking tits that women pay big money to have.

The only area that stood out as a flaw was her bush. Years ago on a TV Show called Tosh.O he showed a blurred out picture of the actress Demi Moore in the nude. He joked about her very thick pubic hair. I googled that picture out of curiosity and was horrified to see that there looked like a black cat sitting on her lap where her pussy should be.

I grew up in the age of the Internet when porn was readily available and 99.99% of all porn of women shows them with shaved or trimmed pubic areas. Imagine my surprise to learn that in the 1980s and before that it was pretty uncommon and that women could grow hairy patches like that around their beaver.

At the time, I suspected someone had photo-shopped Demi’s pubes and superimposed Gene Shalit’s beard on top of it after I found the picture. That was what Tosh.O had said when he featured the picture in his monologue. I didn’t know who Gene Shalit was until I googled him as well.

Lindsay’s pussy was THAT hairy. She didn’t expect to be naked at the pool and hadn’t bothered to groom or trim. The au natural look didn’t do anything for me. I could tell Lindsay was self-conscious most of all about it. I would imagine there were people at the pool who mistook her bush at first glance for a bikini.

I wasn’t gawking to look at her body for sexual jollies. She was hot but she was my sister after all. Lindsay had a fine body but she was after all my sister and the very hairy retro-seventies bush didn’t do anything for me anyway. I was watching her apply lotion that I had jerked off into only hours earlier all over every part of her body.

“Just make sure you put lotion on your face,” I smirked and tried not to make it obvious I was staring at Lindsay’s pussy when she moved to see if I could make out where her pussy lips were buried underneath all that thick dark hair.

“Is that some kind of perverted thing? Getting lotion on my face?” Lindsay asked angrily. I didn’t answer her. It was a cruel practical joke but after she all had done to me I wanted some payback. I would have loved to find some way to tell her what was in it after she lubed herself up but I didn’t want to invite my sister’s wrath.

“Son, you and I have to talk,” Dad said sullenly after a long silence.

“Yes, I think so,” I replied. We should have sat down and talked together earlier but now I’d have to tell him everything about what happened today. I’d probably want to leave things out like shooting my load into a jar and watching my sister rub it all over her body without saying anything to her though.

“Let’s go eat lunch and then you and I will have a conversation, I am sure you are hungry,” he told us we were going to cheeks. He led Charity on all fours in front of him and off to the side. She padded along wiggling her ass for his amusement.

I noticed my sister had a thick, black hairy mound of pubic hair.

“Eyes up here,” she whispered daggers into the back of my neck to stop looking at her pubes. Lindsay didn’t have much fat on her body. She had a lean ballet dancer’s body and decent sized tits. I did have to smile that Lucy had a natural blonde wisp of pubic hair though and Lucy had that patch of thick curly black hair between her legs.

Lindsay insisted on walking behind me and to the side so I couldn’t look at her ass, tits or pussy.

We found a table at Cheeks and sat down with some menus. Even seated at the table, Lindsay’s stare suggested I keep my eyes off her boobs, which drew my eyes straight to her tits. I wish I could describe her boobs other than to say they weren’t too big and they were shockingly pert and perky.

Dad had placed Charity on all fours by his chair. He continued to look at me as if trying to evaluate me or perhaps re-evaluate me.

A male waiter with an apron and nothing else besides a leather collar introduced himself and brought water to the table. “Bowl of water for the slave?” he asked.

Lindsay turned to me and asked as if she genuinely cared “Did you let Charity have any water at the pool?”

“No, I didn’t,” I realized that sounded irresponsible.

“There are complimentary water troughs,” The waiter pointed to a metal trough designed for horses with a waterfall pump that kept the water fresh. “It shouldn’t be a problem if a slave is outside for less than two hours,” he said.

“You guys were out there for what? four hours?” Lindsay was trying to make me look bad and at the same time appear to be concerned for Charity. She ordered two bowls of water just in case and some for the rest of us.

“Did you ask her if she had to go pee? Or shit? You have to be specific with Charity. She has to wait to beg until she can’t hold it any longer and is about to explode,” Lindsay told me. I had to admit I hadn’t done that either. I said I didn’t know what the process was.

“You didn’t have a problem asking Master Thorne the process to spank her though? Dad, did you know about that?” Lindsay tried to sound concern, but her tone was dripping with sarcasm.

“Yes, I did and thank you, Lindsay. I will be sitting down and talking with everyone after this. Let’s just eat our lunch and not point fingers,” he suggested.

The food was typical bar-food - hamburgers and French fries. Lucy ordered Macaroni from what she thought was the kid’s menu.

“Certainly, but that is the slave’s menu, do you still want it?” our waiter asked.

“Macaroni is for slaves?” Lucy seemed surprised.

“There is no cheese or sauce. It is just plain macaroni. I wouldn’t recommend it,” the waiter had a sense of humor and brought her a kids menu instead. Lucy ordered the Macaroni and cheese.

The slave menu did have the things that Eddie mentioned. Table scraps, dog food, gruel, and other unsavory food. “May I suggest the frownies? Those are always a delight.”

“Frownies?” my father asked.

“They are like normal brownies except no sugar, or spice, and we mix the batter with coffee grounds and just a little hint of worms,” the Waiter smiled like he was joking but he was quite serious. The waiter saw my sisters scrunch their nose in disgust and said that we’d definitely not want to order the sticky carrots.

I think it was Simon that asked what they were.

Dad said he had a feeling they were probably like Mountain Oysters only the entire package and not just the nuts. I didn’t know what Mountain Oysters were, but the waiter laughed uncomfortably. “No, these are just regular carrots grown locally in Sunny Manor right here at Red Bottom Farms,” he said. We must have missed that on the tour. “They are a House specialty! It is on the slave menu, but a lot of Free People and Principal Dominants will order them. We don’t have them every day, but they are an appetizer at Chez Pichard. They blanch the carrots quickly in hot water and allow them too cool, and kitchen slaves do their magic with them, and voila, we have sticky carrots!”

I got the impression that women masturbated with them, but Dad didn’t press the issue. He asked about kitchen slaves.

“I thought you seemed new,” the Waiter said. He explained that slaves are sometimes expected to serve as community slaves. “If an owner is traveling for a week and he can’t bring his slave, he will loan her to the community or sometimes he just needs a little time apart. He may even want her to have an attitude adjustment. Most of the time though it is to work off a Home Owner violation. The Director assigns them to work details carrying tools for the maintenance guys, picking up mail and dropping it off, or working in the kitchens,” he explained. “We have some pretty kitchen slaves this weekend. You are welcome to walk back to the kitchen and watch the kitchen slaves freshly prepare the sticky carrots or if you’d prefer your slave can make her own!”

“That will not be necessary,” Dad said abruptly. Charity looked straight ahead with the emotion drained from her face. “Charity will just have the diced table scraps,” Dad ordered for her. I had never realized when we lived in Atlanta that Dad usually ordered her food as well when we were eating at restaurants.

“Very good sir, do you want it in a separate bowl or do you want it thrown in her water?” he said. The Waiter explained that made it softer and easier to swallow, and it was funny to watch a slave eat that way. “If you have ever seen someone bob for apples,” he joked.

My dad said very somberly that a separate bowl would be fine while the rest of us placed our orders.

I was staring at a pregnant slave one table over. She was beautiful and in her early twenties. The slave was thin and attractive with the exception of a full belly so distended it looked like she was ready to give birth at any minute. She had a healthy glow about her as she pee squatted at her owner’s feet. Her hands were flat on the restaurant floor behind her and despite being pregnant had squatted deeply exposing both her pussy and asshole. The butt plug in her ass reminded me of a toy candy cane you get at Christmas filled with M&Ms. She wore a leather strapped brassiere to support her swollen tits. The straps left her nipples and most of her tits fully exposed while holding her jugs up.

Other than her master, there were four rambunctious kids laughing and eating. I assumed they were her own kids seated around the table.

“Hoping to see the baby stick his head out?” Lindsay noticed I was looking at the very swollen belly just above the naked woman’s crotch. I was studying how resigned she was to squat fully exposed in front of her family while they played. This was normal reality for them. The kids were young enough that they probably didn’t know their mother in any other capacity. She seemed happy they were happy. I should have said that, but I pretended not to be disturbed by what she said.

“Let’s all keep our eyes on our own table. It isn’t polite to stare,” Dad said.

I watched as one of the boys at the table dropped a fork on the floor on accident. He pointed and yelled, “Mom! Mom!” and the collared slave without being told by her husband crawled on all fours and picked up the fork with her mouth. She held it in her mouth for her husband to pick up to give back to their waiter.

She had the letter M tattooed on each of her ass cheeks. I assumed her name must be MM or that may have been her owner’s initials.

“What is in her butt?” Lucy observed the plastic cane sticking out of the woman’s asshole and scrunched nose in disdain for the green plastic hook sticking out of the woman’s butthole.

“I think that is a Crappling hook!” Simon joked about it and Lucy and I chuckled.

“You are right, sorry, Dad,” Lindsay pretended to agree with my father. It seemed so obvious she was faking being nice. She told us to stop joking at her expense. “What if her kids heard you were making fun of their mom?” she shamed us into silence.

I wanted to address what happened at the pool at the table several times while we ate lunch. My Dad insisted we wait until after lunch and talk alone. He did ask Charity if she was hurt in any way and she said other than a bruised ego she was fine. Dad said he could see how being punished by his son might do that.

“I embarrassed the entire family today. Mister Matt gave me a much-needed attitude adjustment. If he hadn’t then a nearby Principal Dominant would have done it. The bruise to my ego was necessary because I was speaking out of turn and getting too comfortable and familiar with my betters. I am happy it was Master Matt who corrected me, and if anyone deserves punishment, it is me, Sir.”

Dad said he would take that under advisement but didn’t commit to a decision. He said he had something he needed to bring up to all of us.

“I have to tell you something today, and I think some of you knew this was coming and others it may come as a surprise,” Dad said he that what happened at the pool might have been prevented if he had done this sooner.

My father started explaining that in a family, there is a hierarchy. In our hierarchy, Charity is no longer considered a free adult. “I don’t care how smart any of you think you are there are some things that you don’t know that an adult does. Charity never exercised her privilege to direct your actions or remind you to get up in the morning and go to school or get dressed when we lived in Atlanta. She didn’t have to because we were a well-oiled machine, and most of the time you did what you were supposed to do,” he said with pride.

We all tended to sleep in on weekends, and I was a bit of a slob, but in general, we didn’t miss many days of school or get into any serious mischief. Lindsay was the only one who was dating and the last few weeks before we left things came to a head as she openly defied my father and went out partying.

That is why what he said next was a shocker to us. It shouldn’t have been to me because Lindsay told me what he was going to say today. Hearing my Dad say these things still sounded as surreal as being called “Mister Matt” by my mom.

“Charity surrendered authority over her own actions and decisions to me and only me. That authority comes with a responsibility just like the one I have to all of you that I make good choices in your best interest. I failed in that by moving here and not having made it very clear before I let you walk out that door what I expect and what I don’t,” he was looking at all of us and not just me.