Chapter 24

We all had clothes on again except for Charity when the McGiffords arrived for dinner. Charity answered the door completely naked except for her collar and fell to the floor to take their shoes and kiss their feet.

“I wasn’t sure if we should ring the bell or just shout Ding Dong really loud a few times,” Mike Joked. He was in good spirits.

“I remember when you used to do that,” Mike said to Karen as he let my mom kiss his big, hairy feet and take his shoes.

“Yes, Master, I’ll start answering the door that way again if you wish,” Karen promised reluctantly.

“I do,” Mike stepped in and greeted my father and the rest of us.

Joe was next, and he let Charity take his shoes but not kiss his feet. He looked good in a simple shirt and plain jeans. He could wear anything and make it look good.

Claire was next. She let my mom take her shoes and kiss her feet. “Oooh, don’t suck my toes,” she joked as she walked in. She was wearing a blouse and a knee-length skirt.

She turned to me when she saw my reaction and asked, “Too much? Should I have just worn a bra and panties?” she asked playfully.

“You own a bra and panties?” I asked with a wry grin.

“No, I don’t,” Claire smiled at my joke, suggesting she usually went commando with nothing on under her clothes. It was very sexy. I saw my Dad give me a look of pride and Lindsay scowl, which made me happy.

Karen and Kyle were barefoot, and Charity did not offer to kiss their feet as the protocol does not call for that welcome.

They were both naked and had their hands cuffed behind them. Karen had been washed up, but you could still see all the bruises and welts from a weekend in the pillory on her body. The writing in Magic Marker hadn’t completely disappeared either. I could still see a faded picture of Doo-Doo and the words, “ I take stinky shits! Please bathe me,” on her face. The targets drawn around her nipples hadn’t been washed off at all.

Charity explained that the food would be ready in about thirty minutes and asked if anyone needed drinks once they were seated. She dipped slightly at the knee and lifted an invisible skirt like she was curtsying before leaving the room.

Kyle and Karen were the only ones standing while the rest of us sat.

“Ah, the new house smell! I remember when our house smelled like this,” Mike inhaled the smell of our house deeply as he looked around at how clean and spacious our home looked.

“It smells like pussy and mildew now,” Claire joked. I liked her crude sense of humor. The fact she was good looking and so open with her sexuality made her seem perfect to me. I told myself to focus on the dinner and not about the choices Lindsay put in front of me. I didn’t want to seem preoccupied while Claire was visiting.

Mike glanced at Claire to imply she was rude, and she should tone it down.

“I am not into mildew, but I wouldn’t mind coming over for a whiff,” I implied I wouldn’t mind the smell of pussy.

The McGiffords laughed, and that helped break the ice.

“We want you to be yourselves,” My Dad added when he saw what I had done. Dad looked at me with appreciation on his face for making our guests feel welcome.

“You sure about that? Not everybody likes the real us,” Claire added.

“Especially our REAL mom,” Joe accentuated his joke with a rimshot sound from his mouth.

“I am going to be on my best behavior, Sir!” Karen assured her son. She had received some attitude check at home. There were fresh cane marks across her plump butt, and she looked slightly less jaded.

“So, just mean and lazy instead of extra mean and lazy?” Joe replied.

“Your mom and I had a little talk before we came over. I promised her that I’d start treating her like a proper submissive when she started acting like one. We were inspired by meeting the Camdens. It reminded us of why we moved here,” Mike said.

My dad said he was flattered.

“I thought you moved here so you could see a lot of bare asses and titties,” Claire asked her father with a smirk.

“That too,” Mike admitted with a smile.

I was not used to talking to company or having people over, and I felt a little more comfortable around the McGifford family after they told us about their crazy past. I was happy that things were improving in their lives.

Dad and Mike did most of the talking while we waited for Charity to finish dinner. They talked about what they did for a living and sports mostly. It was guy talk, and I didn’t have a lot of interest in it.

Charity returned to the living room and announced that the food would be ready in about ten minutes. “Master? I’ve not had a chance to piss since I came home. Do you mind if I use the bathroom?” she said.

“Yes, you have three minutes. Wash your hands and then set the table for dinner,” he told her.

“Thank you, Master, the table is already set,” Charity walked over to my father, bent over him, and kissed him sweetly before walking down the hall.

Mike asked what just happened, and all of the McGiffords seemed a little bewildered. My Dad asked him what he meant.

“I had the impression when I met you today that your wife was well trained,” Mike seemed disappointed by my father.

My Dad said he didn’t understand and reminded Mike that he was new to the Sunny Manor way of doing things.

“Even Karen wouldn’t dare do some of these things,” Mike looked offended by whatever happened just now. “Your wife bounces into the room while her betters are talking and just announces things. I thought you were going to whip her for that alone,” he said adding, “She acts more like a submissive than a slave.”

“She meant nothing by it, and we need to know when the food is ready,” My dad didn’t see the big deal.

“Then she asks to use the bathroom? You let your slave sit on a toilet inside the house?” the look on Mike’s face made it seem like that was absurdly over the top like allowing a dog to sit on the toilet.

“Where else would she do it?” Dad asked.

“Outside on the lawn, if you want to walk her outside, in a bowl in front of you if you don’t feel like getting up,” Mike seemed puzzled that my father had to be told that.

“I don’t want to see that, especially around my kids or dinner,” my Dad said.

“No one wants to see that. Do you think any of us wanted to see Karen squeeze cheese today? You think any dog owner WANTS to pick up dog shit when they take their dog out,” Mike said.

Karen cackled like she was picturing Charity’s surprised face when she found out what she had to do from now on.

“What are you laughing about? You are using the FRONT LAWN from now on. I told you that you are going to follow slave rules even if you are not going to earn a collar,” Mike told her.

“What about in the rain, Sir?” she said.

“You can hold it. I love to watch you do the pee-pee dance around the house while you try to hold it, or you can get wet. You like being wet, don’t you?” Mike asked his wife.

“Yes, Master,” Karen knew better than to argue.

“Kyle, it will be your responsibility to walk your mom, dig the hole, and time her. She has three minutes to piss, and five minutes to shit. She gets a total of 15 minutes a day maximum; however, she wants to split up. Write the time she used up on the punishment board in the living room. That is a new house rule,” Mike decided. “Keep an eye on her. If she is just farting around, then warn her and put a hash-mark on the punishment chart for every minute she isn’t pissing or shitting. I don’t want her out there just letting her ass whistle in the wind even if it is only wasting your time and not mine, Kyle!”

“Where should I shit and piss, Master?” Kyle acknowledged his father’s instructions.

“You can use the backyard. You get twenty minutes a day. Log your time on the chalkboard,” Mike said.

“I can go by myself without permission, Master?” Kyle asked for clarification.

“Fuck no, ask Joe or your sister, and if they aren’t available, then you ask me. If none of us are home, we’ll tell you what to do before we leave,” he said.

My Dad seemed shocked that when he heard these rules. “That seems a little harsh,” Dad said.

“Being soft didn’t work, so this is tough love. I can be flexible with a submissive, but don’t let anyone in the community know your wife uses an indoor toilet. Always bring some plastic bags with you if she has to shit outside on someone’s lawn when you take her for a walk,” Mike said.

“You are kidding me,” Dad was surprised.

“I shit you not,” Mike made a play on words.

“This is a hard rule? The slaves not using toilets? That’s pretty extreme,” Dad said.

“Are slaves allowed on the furniture?” Mike asked him.

“No, obviously not,” Dad replied.

“What is a toilet? The throne? You sit on it, right?” Mike said.

“Yeah, but there are exceptions to every rule. If a bed is furniture are you saying I can’t have Charity in my bed?” Dad asked with a confused expression.

“The bed can be an exception if she isn’t there to sleep. I’ll grant you that as long as they are there to fuck, then no one would argue. What you do in your bedroom is your business, trust me,” Mike explained.

“What she does in my house is my business,” Dad countered.

“I won’t argue that with you. I agree, but if you don’t condition your slave to the community standards at home, it is hard to get them used to complying. The community center has an open-pit behind a vanity wall at the pool for slaves. They are expected to squat over a grid, just like the one at the market. There is no toilet paper, just a garden hose. Submissive are permitted to the toilets with permission unless it is a house rule. If I found a slave in the bathroom, they better be attached to a glory hole and not using one of the toilets!” Mike said.

My Dad looked shocked that Mike was telling him this in front of us.

Lucy and Simon giggled. They thought pooping, and farting was pretty funny - which it is.

“What if I leave Sunny Manor and she’s in the car?” Dad asked.

“Now, in the car, obviously what you do outside in the vanilla world is up to you. However, I’ll show you what is expected when you pull through the gate into Sunny Manor and how most slaves ride if they aren’t tied up in the trunk,” he said.

Mike had a foot long, flesh-colored dildo in a bag. “I brought it in case I needed to gag Karen, but this will suffice,” he said as he ordered Kyle to bring a dining chair into the living room. The dildo had a flat surface so that it could be planted onto the chair and stick to it.

“Skirt is off or pulled up so that buttocks are fully exposed, and no cloth is touching the chair,” Mike explained. Karen’s butt plug was similar in width and coloration, but only a few inches were sticking out at the base.

He planted the floppy dildo on the chair, and it bounced around a little. “A female slave would sit on it like this,” Mike pointed, and Karen obediently walked over to the chair and sat on it in reverse so that we could more easily see her pussy and ass. She slid down onto the dick almost entirely to the base. “Her cunt shouldn’t be touching the car seat. I like a dildo with a base like this so it can catch any dripping from her pussy. Naturally, she’ll clean the entire dildo when we get where we are going before she puts on her clothes,” he said.

Mike asked if my dad wanted to see how a male slave would sit and offered Kyle as a demonstration. “The balls, dick, and ass must never touch my car seat,” he said.

“No, I think I get it,” my dad was uncomfortable as he watched Karen slowly hump herself on that dildo.

“The problem, of course, is that horny slaves start to fuck themselves,” Mike removed a riding crop and whipped Karen’s ass several times, but she continued to grind herself on the dildo.

“A little grinding is okay on a long car ride, but don’t let them use it as a fuck-break,” Mike said.

Charity returned promptly *and without being asked announced she was at least a minute late. Charity’s expression was forlorn and apologetic. She felt duty required her to inform every one of her mistake.

Mike looked at my father, expecting him to take action.

“Charity, you are not to interrupt when free people are talking unless it is an emergency,” My Dad warned her.

“Oh, I am so sorry! I was trying to be helpful, Master!” Charity looked deeply embarrassed to have committed a faux-pas unknowingly.

“They are demonstrating how you will be seated in cars from now on,” My dad explained to her. “Go serve dinner. I don’t want it to be cold or delayed while our guests are here. Later tonight, you will be punished for interrupting us twice. I’ll go over your new bathroom rules with you as well,” Dad said that he needed to give them some thought.

“Oh, yes, Master!” Charity said and quickly left the room.

“Charity, you have a lot to learn,” Mike said to her as she was leaving. “You must beg permission to leave our presence!” he said.

“I am so sorry; I am willing to learn, Sir. I hope I didn’t offend or set a bad example of my Master’s training. I don’t mean to be presumptuous but please, may I be excused to prepare dinner?” Charity asked with a look of shame, but she didn’t seem discouraged in any way from continuing to be a good slave. My Dad gave her permission, and she went to the kitchen. She could still hear us talking about her when she left.

“She may not be prepared for orientation, Eric,” Mike said that while Charity was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and full of the best intentions, she’d fail almost every test because she knows so little protocol.

“Would you mind coming over tomorrow and working with Charity?” Dad asked.

“I’ve got my hands full with Karen and Kyle, but I’m happy to help a neighbor. Just don’t get offended if I tell you you are doing something wrong,” Mike said. My Dad said he’d appreciate all the help he could get.

When Dinner was ready, Charity looked nervous as she walked meekly back into the room and waited with her hands behind her back.

“Yes, Charity?” my dad asked her.

“The food is prepared, Sir,” she told us with polite submission in her voice.

My Dad stood up, and everyone followed him into the kitchen. There were chairs for everybody except Karen, Kyle, and Charity. Charity had placed three plates of her scraps finely diced on the floor next to one another.

“I didn’t know what or how you ate, so I did my best. I am sorry if it was wrong, Sir,” Charity addressed Mike about the slave food.

“Typically, you don’t put anything in a slave’s bowl. You wait and serve the table, and at the end, we’ll decide if you eat,” Mike said as he sat down.

“I am so sorry!” Charity apologized again. She bent at the waist, revealing her turnip shaped buttplug as she did and poured the leftovers back into a sealed container and returned them to the fridge.

“You are learning,” Mike said as he buttered his bread. The rest of us sat down with him. “I am just concerned you may be a fair-weather slave and want to quit when you discover some of the expectations that are placed on you. The look on your Master’s face when we told him that you are not permitted to use a bathroom in this community was priceless,” Mike said. It seemed like Mike was inferring my father might be a fair-weather Master.

“I was just surprised,” Dad shrugged. “I have a lot to learn about the way things are here. These rules have been established by the Home Owner’s Association over many years. We just arrived. I understand why you’d think that. I can adapt and adjust,” Dad assured him.

“I am willing to follow the rules. May I ask where, if not the bathroom, Iwould piss and shit, Sir?” she asked.

Mike explained the rules in his house, and Charity was silent for a long time. I felt bad for her. She didn’t know this when she agreed. The slaves pissed and shit outside on the lawn even in light rain at Mikes house. Mike said that some people had litter boxes but almost no one allowed their slaves to use toilets at any time.

“Will it disgust you to walk me outside, Miss Lindsay? Your father put you in charge when he is occupied. I would feel tremendously guilty that you have to stand over me and observe,” she said.

Charity had no issue with pissing and shitting in front of people. Her ONLY concern was adding this new obligation to Lindsay.

“I...” Lindsay picked up some mashed potatoes with her spoon and looked uncomfortable.

I wanted to make fun of my sister for eating mashed potatoes with a spoon. I suppressed the urge. She was such a cunt and I would have to bide my time. She could have easily ruined the evening by making this all about me.

I liked how uncomfortable she looked being asked that question. Linday smiled at my father and turned to Charity, “I would be happy to supervise you, Charity. This is a new place and we must all make an attempt to adjust.” I could tell from her lemony smile that she was not happy at all.

“Then, I will be fortunate to express my submission and obedience by giving up my use of the toilet. This isn’t a choice for me to make any longer. The only apprehension for me would be the impact on my family, but that is also not a decision I am responsible to make. I trust Master will do that for me. My place is to obey. May I ask, do I shave my body and shower outside as well, Master McGifford?” she was very contrite and selfless in her question.

“There are some who do, but usually I just make Karen bring a bowl of water, a mirror and shave her nasty beaver out in the living room where I can keep an eye on her and make sure she isn’t playing with it,” he said.

Karen and Kyle were still handcuffed and standing behind Mike at the table.

Mike looked up at Karen and told him he wanted her to start shaving again EVERY day unless you are in the pillory. You ready to start eating on your hands and knees again, bitch?” he said.

“I am not worthy of being called Bitch any longer, Sir. That was my slave name, and I am just a worthless submissive. I am grateful to be permitted to eat on my hands and knees,” Karen sounded less than enthused about it.

Mike told her that he thought of her like a bitch but that she was right. She was lower than a bitch now. “Karen is about the lowest, scummiest name I can think of for you right now,” he said.

We continued to eat, and Mike talked about how things would change at his house. “I feel like having gone over what we did in the past that I’ve learned from my mistakes, and I appreciate you listening today, Eric,” Mike said in a friendly manner.

My dad told him he appreciated learning about the protocols from Mike.

“The only use for a toilet that a slave has is to empty her enema water in it, or if you want to throw her food in there and watch her bob for it like apples,” Mike offered another tidbit of advice. “Kyle, I want you to toss your mother’s food in the toilet at every meal at home from now until I tell you otherwise. You can eat from a bowl at her feet in the bathroom. I don’t want you in the kitchen eating at all,” Mike said.

“Thank you, Master, I understand,” Kyle said.

“Should I do that as well, Sir?” Charity was flitting around the table, filling glasses, and trying to be helpful. Her big tits bounced across my face and brushed my elbow once.

“No, not unless it is a requirement,” Dad asked Mike, and Master McGifford said it was a matter of preference. “You can scatter her food on the floor and make her worm her way around eating it if you prefer. I’ve seen people set up bottles with nipples on them and make their slaves suck down a mixture of cum, protein, and breast milk. As long as they aren’t at the table with a fork and knife, it is fine,” Mike said.

“What about in vanilla places?” Dad asked.

“We stopped enforcing all of Karen’s feeding protocol a long time ago. It was easier not to make a fuss about it when you get busy. It just grew tiresome for me to make sure she was eating quickly and cleaned her bowl. Karen has been sitting on the couch and eating off TV trays like the rest of us, and you inspired me today to get back to basics. In public, she ate like everybody else, even at Cheeks. It was just easier to tell her to sit and eat,” Mike said.

“When Karen was a good slave, I’d take her behind a dumpster, strip her naked and feed her out of a bowl back there. I’d hang a ‘Fuck for Free’ sign on her and go eat inside. If she did come with us inside, I’d make her lift her skirt and sit on the seat. I’d usually offer her and Claire a few points if they’d flash the waiter or a guest next to us. The idea wasn’t to offend them but instead just make their day. It got us kicked out of Denny’s a few times,” he joked.