The Fun Center - Garden of Eden and Minerva's Market

“Fun Center? Looks more like the fart center,” Lindsay didn’t look impressed by the two small buildings pressed close together at the edge of the property that Eddie introduced as the Fun Center. The twin buildings did seem very plain almost like warehouses next to each other compared to the much more ostentatious parts of Sunny Manor. There was a fenced in garden on one side and what appeared to be a third smaller unmarked building down an alleyway.

“We built this as a phase two for Sunny Manor. We have plans to extend it and add on,” Eddie said after telling Carlos to untie Charity and Angelica so they could join us on the tour. Carlos stayed behind but everyone else including Stacy and Bambi followed us.

Eddie led us over to a gated garden. We had seen it on the way in to the community. The sign above the garden was labeled Eden. I was reminded instantly of my father’s story about the delicious apple that everybody wanted inside the Garden of Eden and licked my lips. I hoped nobody noticed and thought that was creepy.

“This is our community garden. Anyone can apply for a plot of land within the garden and all we ask is that you tend it and reap what you sow,” he said. I didn’t know what reaping and sowing was nor did I have any interest in this part of the tour. I was too busy thinking about the fact that my elbow was touching Bambi the entire time and she put her hand on my knee. I thought I came in my pants!

There were some naked slaves tending plants like any vanilla gardener would except they were naked and collared.

Eddie introduced us to two people he referred to as Master Peanut and Delilah. He said they would be our neighbors.

“How-do!” Master Peanut was a short white guy clearly from the south. He was wearing denim overalls and had a MAGA Trump hat on. He looked like a stereotypical hayseed hillbilly. He could have easily been a ventriloquist puppet in Jeff Dunham’s bag if he were any smaller.

Delilah was the first black woman I had seen in the community. Her skin was smooth and dark like chocolate. She had on an eternity collar and nothing else. Delilah looked cultured, smart and sexy. She didn’t talk in a southern accent and seemed like the last woman in the world that would be with a guy named Master Peanut. If you know who the actress Kerry Washington is that is almost exactly what she looked like.

“Wow, you are a slave?” Lindsay seemed shocked when she met Delilah.

“Yes Ma’am, I sure am,” Delilah smiled politely.

“But you are black?” Lindsay looked alarmed.

“I am? What?” Delilah pretended to be shocked as she looked at her hands, “I thought I was just well-tanned!”

Delilah had the most delightful warm smile.

“Yeah, but how can you agree to be a slave? Do you not think it is offensive to black people?” Lindsay said.

Delilah made a funny face like she couldn’t believe a white girl was asking her what was offensive to black people.

“Oh god, I didn’t realize it! It’s happening again,” she clutched her eternity collar like she wanted to free herself of it “The white man has done tricked us into being slaves again!”

Master Peanut laughed the hardest at Delilah’s joke.

Lindsay looked mortified by Delilah laughing at her comments.

“Ma’am, if I can speak freely?” she asked Lindsay but Lindsay was already trying to save face and looked at the ground.

“Submission was my choice. It is my way of life now. I am a slave, and I am proud of it. No one tricked me or made me make this decision. It is what I wanted,” she said.

Lindsay said she was sorry. I have never heard Lindsay apologize to me and actually mean it in at least a decade, but she meant it with Delilah.

“That is fine. I get that all the time from white people. That and they ask if they can touch my hair,” she joked.

I did want to touch her hair. It looked like wet curls that were glued in place and of a completely different texture on her head.

“Do any of you want to touch my hair? one free black person hair touch, going once?” Delilah joked.

“How did he become your Master?” Simon asked while he touched her hair. I couldn’t believe my little brother had the audacity to take her up on the offer, but he did.

“Master Peanut?” Delilah explained that he wasn’t her original master. “My Master traded me to Master Peanut for a year. I am learning how to live with a redneck, racist cracker and his slave is learning how to serve big black dicks,” Delilah smiled in a way that suggested she was pretty happy about the bargain.

“Yeah, Savannah needed a little broadening. She’d do anything. She’d fuck a porcupine if it caught her fancy. Her one limit was niggers,” Master Peanut said.

You could have heard a pin drop after that. We all stood there in stunned silence.

We looked at Delilah for her reaction to this word. It was a word we had been taught NEVER EVER to SAY. If a rap song comes on with that word, and we are singing along, we skip that word.

“It is fine,” Delilah explained before turning around and spreading her ass cheeks for us. The words “NIGGER CUNT” were tattooed around the buttplug in her asshole. The first thing I wondered was if her butthole rim was as dark as her skin because her pussy was bright pink on the inside. The second thing I wondered was how does she know she got all the shit off her ass when she wipes her butt - the skin is completely black. I felt ashamed of myself. I thought about something that nasty, but it was a new first for me to see a black woman’s ass and spread pussy in front of me.

Where I grew up in Atlanta was deeply divided by race. I never thought a white girl would be interested, but I was positive without a doubt, a black girl wouldn’t. I am white and nerdy, and that isn’t usually their type. The very notion that a beautiful adult black woman just showed me the pink inside her pussy and her asshole like it was nothing was a tremendous thrill.

“I grew up a strong, proud black woman. I graduated from Spelman Magna Cum Laude. I was called Nigger since I was old enough to ride a school bus. The word I had a problem with most of all was allowing someone to call me a cunt. I am a nigger cunt,” Delilah declared bravely.

None of us wanted to say anything.

“You are my nigger cunt, baby!” Master Peanut kissed her lips, and she opened her mouth and kissed him back affectionately. Master Peanut told us to come by anytime, and he would make Delilah whip up a “mess of collard grins, ribs, and vittles for us.”

“Am I your nigger bitch, slave baby?” Delilah asked as the little man that was her current Master like she loved him deeply. “You are my cracker-ass midget master,” she said affectionately.

“You sure are a big-lipped, fat-bottomed, nigger bitch! You love watermelon and chicken like you love your own mama!” Master Peanut escalated the put-downs but said it in an affectionate way as we walked away.

“Watch it now, Don’t be talking about my Mama Sir” was the last thing I could hear Delilah say. The two of them continued to embrace, but they were too far away for me to listen to their back and forth conversation.

We left the garden after that. My head was swimming with what I had just seen and heard. I could tell my father was having a little trouble processing what he just heard as well. I think if one of us had freaked out and said this was madness then we all would have. It seemed like everyone in the family was trying to remain calm and accepting because they didn’t want to be the only ones to flip out. I couldn’t be sure and I didn’t want to ask anyone if they wanted to flip out. I was curious what else was on this tour!

It just got weirder and weirder as descended deeper into the metaphorical Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory! They walked through bizarre laboratories and rode boats along rivers of chocolate. We saw bizarre fetish training and I rode in a golf cart with naked ladies running behind it. If anything made the metaphor even more real it was that with a green wig and a little orange face paint Master Peanut would have made a perfect Ooma Loompa!

“Race-play never did anything for me,” Eddie said after we were out of earshot of Peanut and Delilah. I didn’t know that was a ‘thing’ at all.

“It seemed kind of offensive,” I observed.

“What you do in Sunny Manor or anywhere with a consenting person is never offensive if you both agreed to the rules beforehand,” Eddie stopped to explain it to me. “Obviously, you aren’t going to walk up to a vanilla woman on the street and call her a cunt, are you?” he asked me.

“No, sir,” I answered.

“Well, you know that word is offensive in vanilla settings. You know that nigger is offensive too,” Eddie explained. “Here, the women take the word back and make it apply to them. Angelica, you are a cunt, explain to him how it makes you feel when I call you that?” he said.

Every time Eddie used the word Cunt, I could see my big sister stifle her rage and bottle up her anger.

“That word used to be very offensive to me even though I grew up here. I was taught it was what you called a whore or a bitch. I was taught that when you said it about a vagina, it meant it was a dirty hole!” Charity explained as she stood before us.

“The word became very powerful when I first began training because I had to call myself a cunt and refer to my pussy as a juicy fat black cunt. Verbalizing what I was to put myself into the mindset to submit and be lower than someone else was essential to giving up power,” she said.

“Context is everything,” Bambi added even though she wasn’t asked. “If Stace calls me a cunt I call her one back, and it is a joke between friends,” she said to Stacey. “If someone calls me a cunt to put me down, it can hurt my self-esteem, but when I put on this collar,” Bambi waved the collar she was wearing adding “It feels right. I become a cunt who needs training and discipline.”

“Well said,” Master Davidson pinched his granddaughter’s butt playfully and told her, “There is hope for you yet!”

He ushered us into one of the buildings at the fun center that he called Minerva’s Market. There was a lot of activity here. Eddie told us that they hold a Farmer’s Market every Saturday and Sunday.

“Do you know why we call it a Farmer’s Market?” Eddie asked us and then answered his own joke, “Because Flea Markets can’t charge as much as we do for a stall!”

He explained that Flea Markets were old and trashy ideas, and Farmer’s Markets were the new craze for hipsters to buy crafts and goods.

“Old and trashy? Sounds like it would be right up your alley,” Lindsay muttered.

“Young and trashy works fine too,” Eddie answered her sarcastic comment and implied she was young and trashy before continuing the tour. “We have over 40 booths here. People make leather crafts, toys, bondage furniture, we have a tattoo artist, and they do piercing,” Eddie said proudly.

“Sex, sex, sex,” Lindsay muttered in disgust.

“No, sex is groper’s alley,” Eddie replied. When he realized we didn’t get the joke, he pointed out that the alley between this building and the next one was called Groper’s alley.

“You don’t want to go there,” he warned us.

“I thought you said everything was safe here,” Lindsay protested.

“Just as I told you that adults need a place to get away from annoying kids,” Eddie implied she was one of those an adult would need relief from before adding “Groper’s alley suspends some of our normal rules. Touching is permitted without consent in Groper’s Alley. The only thing we frown upon there is Scat and blood-play because it is messy,” he said.

I thought Scat was a type of jazz singing from the 1940s. I didn’t ask for clarification.

“Glory Theater is down Groper’s alley. They show adult movies and offer private booths. It is something your Dad and Charity may be interested in, but I would advise staying away,” Eddie warned him.

“Adult movies are boring!” Lucy insisted out loud. A tattoo artist stopped tattooing in the booth next to us when he heard the little girl make that protest.

“I saw Mamma Mia, and it was just a dumb musical about a wedding!” Lucy clearly thought an adult movie was a film starring Meryl Streep and Pierce Brosnan but definitely not porn.

“You only get the jokes you are supposed to get,” Eddie reminded everyone to let my sister keep believing that was what an adult movie was.

“They are talking about porn,” Simon didn’t understand that.

“Oh!” Lucy covered her mouth and turned a shade of beet red when she realized what an adult movie wasn’t going to be delightful Abba tunes sung by aging actors in a musical romantic comedy.

Eddie chuckled and showed us that they didn’t just sell adult toys. There were beaded necklaces, handmade candles, clothes, and fresh fruit and vegetables for sale as well.

A good example was a booth with two signs. The first sign said “Dee’z Nuts” and the picture that was airbrushed on the sign showed a chipmunk with big balls smiling. Inside the stand, was a woman named Dee. I’ve seen enough porn and had entire folder of it dedicated to BBW to know that Dee’s body type is what is called a “Big Beautiful Woman”

Angelica and Fawn were full-figured women. Dee was much more than that. She had the largest ass I had seen at Sunny Manor so far. You won’t even notice that huge ass though because her knockers were massive. Her boobs were much larger than the DDD size tits hanging off Charity and Angelica. She wore a white tank top with the caption “Stop looking at my eyes, my tits are down here”
Her nipples were visible through the tank top so that it made very little sense for her to wear the top. The best way I could describe Deez face was that she looked like what you’d expect a “Hot Biker Mama” to look like. Dee wore a simple collar and not an eternity collar.

She sold frosted almonds, walnuts and cashews that she called “freshly shaken and jizzed”.

Dee smiled at my father and licked frosting from her finger. She put the finger deep down her throat without gagging and pulled it back out like it was the most delicious thing she had ever sucked upon. “I love put big nuts in my mouth. Don’t you?” she asked him.

My Dad looked genuinely embarrassed and flustered.

I noticed some older pictures of her in frames. She looked much thinner but she still had the oversized tits. In the old pictures Dee was wearing an eternity collar in the pictures and looked a little like she was wearing similar pony girl regalia that Fawn had on except that she had long hair. She not only had heavy rings hanging from her pussy lips pulling her flaps down but she also had metal nipple stretchers on her boobs. I wanted to look more closely at the sexy old photos but Eddie was walking us pretty briskly through the market.

On the other side of the booth the sign was painted in the same style. The caption read “Phil n Deez Juggz!” but the letters were arranged in such a way that it looked like it said “Feel Deez Jugs”
Master Phil was bald and had a grey beard. He reminded me of an old Dwarven warrior or a biker.
The Master was very quiet and sat off to the side working on a craft table. Dee on the other hand was vibrant and laughing in a bawdy way like a sassy waitress when we walked up to see what they sold.

They had a very shiny looking pump in the booth that Dee told us was a “Happybuy Electric Milking Machine”. She asked her husband how many RPM and he told her 1440. I didn’t know if that was a lot or not but Eddie looked impressed. He said it was a lot better than the goat milker they had.

“She broke it.” Phil said without adding any detail of how his wife broke the goat milker but I got the impression she crushed it with her tits. There were six industrial sized suction cups meant for a cow’s teat connected to the HappyBug Milker. Deez put two of them to her nipples over her shirt and said “I serve everything fresh not like that bitch over on row 12 who sells titty milk that has been pumped the night before! I can pump a bottle for you or for a little extra you can come drink from the tap,” she assured me with a beefy grin.

I wasn’t sure if I was more intimidated by Venus the weightlifter or Dee. Venus might have fucked me right in half like a twig if I had sex with her. I felt like Dee might crush me with her massive tits and ass but that she looked like she loved sex so much she would wake me up, revive me, and tell me to go down on her again.

Simon asked how she was able to give so much milk. He had been generally quiet for most of the tour. I wasn’t sure if he was genuinely curious how women give milk or if he was trying to find a way to bottle it up, and monetize it.

“I am hucow trained, Sir. I eat a lot of wheatgrass and nothing toxic that could be passed on to a baby. I take a few hormones but they are not much different than what are in the USDA milk you drink at home,” she said with pride. I didn’t know what that was but I was pretty sure I had some porn of big-jugged women having their titties milked.

“We drink almond milk!” Lindsay insisted sourly.

“You should try drinking natural milk. We weren’t meant to drink cows milk but we were meant to drink mother’s milk, Ma’am” Dee smiled politely but looked a little offended. “We do a lot of business with new mothers. A lot of mothers can’t express when their babies are born so I am always happy when my milk goes for that purpose but some people develop a taste for it later in life. I like those kinds too,” Dee seemed to own her sexuality and was very confident.

“Maybe another time,” My Dad grew very uncomfortable with the sales pitch around us.

“How about freshly squeezed lemonade? You haven’t tasted anything sweeter until you watch me shake it by hand,” Dee offered us a glimpse by shaking her enormous tits up and down. I wanted that Lemonade badly!

Simon asked if he could charge things at the market to our house. Eddie told him that the market businesses weren’t officially owned by Sunny Manor and only took cash. “Some vendors are starting to take credit card though.”

My Dad reminded him that we would probably not being staying. “We have to talk about that when we get home as a family.”

I wanted to stay at Sunny Manor! This was like an entirely new world full of fresh tits that offered the possibility of getting fucked right in half or revived and told to keep going down on someone. It was dangerously exciting and all new to me.

I knew Lindsay would poo-poo the idea of staying as she had from the start. I assumed Simon was on board with remaining here since he asked about making purchases at the market.

I couldn’t read Lucy at all. She loved the pool but I couldn’t see her being bold enough to strip down naked and go there. She was pretty adventurous but she never dressed like a slut or ran around in just panties or naked at home since she was very little. I was actually surprised she hadn’t flipped out the first time she saw a flopping pecker or at the dozens of other freakishly over-the-top encounters we have had since we started the tour. I didn’t know if she was just so overwhelmed by it all that she had become de-sensitized or if she liked it here? I thought perhaps Lucy was bravely putting up with the tour because she saw that no one else was flipping out.

I suspected even if Dad put staying here to a family vote he was more likely to make a judgment based on not exposing Lucy to all this hedonistic stuff. I didn’t blame him. It was fine for me and Simon but I could be a little protective of my little sister as well. I quite liked that being here made Lindsay uncomfortable though.

In the center of the market was a little lunch counter with a few tables. People were eating snacks and others were milling about shopping along the various rows of Minerva’s Market.

We walked around some of the booths. I looked for that booth on row 12 that Dee warned me about. The woman at the booth had normal sized tits and she wore a very simple nurses uniform that could easily be slipped off and a white hat. She looked like any typical MILF/Teacher from my old high school. She didn’t have porn star good looks or the world’s largest tits but something about how normal she looked made it very sexy that she was sitting behind a booth selling her own breast milk with her husband.

She had a poster on one wall that advertised the health value of drinking human breast milk. She had another poster that advertised the value of drinking semen as well as using it as a facial rub for skin care.

My sister instantly made an “Ick!” face.

“I thought so too but now I get a facial every day,” the woman behind the booth noticed my sister’s reaction.

“No thank you,” Lindsay sounded annoyed.

“Can I interest any of you in testing for erectional dysfunction? The examination is performed behind the curtain so you will have privacy while I do it unlike that bitch with the big tits by the lunch counter!” She was clearly talking about her rival booth run by Phil and Dee.

I got the distinct impression even though she didn’t come right out and say it that the examination consisted of her beating you off or possibly even sucking your cock to see how quickly you get erect.

My father told her that would be a hard pass for now.

“You should get checked once a week. I do have a subscription plan for customers who want a regular weekly exam. You wouldn’t want to wait to find out you can’t get hard when you really want to perform,” she smiled. I noticed the nurse had a gap between her teeth. I quickly pictured sticking my dick up to that gap and squirting cum into her mouth.

Her husband sat quietly while his wife basically offered their cum, breast milk, and at the very least a happy ending hand job to us. He didn’t seem any more submissive than Master Phil to let her speak while he sat quietly. Instead, it seemed like he enjoying having a hot wife that was willing to be so flirty in his presence. I would have thought he’d be embarrassed to have such a slutty wife but it looked like he was tremendously proud of her even though they didn’t make a sale with us.

On a raised stage in front of the lunch tables were three pillory stocks like you would have seen in a Puritan village. Each of the pillory stocks were a little different from the next. The first pillory was the standard antique style raised up high enough that a person could stand slightly bent over. There was a hole on either side for your wrists and one hole for your head with a slat in the center to allow you to place your body parts inside before it is locked on you.

In the next pillory, a naked fat man was locked in. The pillory was lower so that he was on his knees and bent over face first through the wooden stocks. His head and both of his wrists secured in front of him so that he was forced to look straight ahead. The man’s legs were locked into a wooden stock behind him.

“That is Master Fester,” Eddie explained.

“What did he do to be placed in there?” My dad asked.

“Nothing! He likes it. He is here every Saturday and Sunday,” Eddie explained.

“Why would he give up his weekend to voluntarily be here if he is a Master?” Simon asked.

“Why would someone give up the right to make decisions for themselves and access to privileges you and I take for granted like when to eat and what to eat when they are a free person? You can ask every submissive in Sunny Manor and get a different answer,” Eddie turned to Master Fester and asked him why he was here today in the pillory.

“I like it!” was Fester’s only response.

The third pillory looked the most uncomfortable of all of them on the stage.

A middle-aged naked woman with a build similar to Charity was forced to squat with her legs spread wide and bound to the two wooden posts on the side of the pillory. Her cunt and ass were fully exposed and spread. She had a droopy expression on her face.

She didn’t seem angry she was in the predicament of being naked and tied up. She looked resigned to accept her fate. She looked bored and almost like she wished someone would look at her or talk to her. It was as if the biggest punishment of this extreme binding was that nobody noticed!

A board across the top of the pillory held her wrists and head in place.

It was strangely erotic to imagine that while she was in this position, she was completely vulnerable. She was even more vulnerable than Fawn had been with her wrists bound behind her back because she couldn’t run away. Anyone could touch her, and she couldn’t do anything about it.

“Hello, Karen,” he said to the woman. She had short blonde hair cut in what I call the “I want to speak to your manager” cut. She looked like she was genuinely suffering and humiliated by being exposed like to anyone who wanted to watch her. I would describe her like Julie Bowen the Milfy actress that play’s Claire Dunphy on Modern Family.

The people eating at the tables or walking nearby paid very little attention to her though. They were clearly used to seeing people in the stocks.

“Hello, Master Davidson,” Karen appeared annoyed by his intrusion. She wore the collar of a submissive and not a slave.

“Where is your butt plug?” he asked her as he looked at her bare, pink anus. Her asshole puckered when he mentioned the word plug.

“Some boys stole it again, Master Davidson” Karen explained.

“Ah, the mysterious boys who are always stealing your butt plug and nobody elses?” Eddie didn’t seem to believe her.

“Check the cameras please Sir,” Karen assured him that it would happen. We had been told they had an extensive network of security cameras.

“I’ll get on that investigation right away!” Eddie chuckled without any sympathy for Karen. “I am sure your plug didn’t just magically teleport away. I have some ideas who swiped it, and they will be dealt with,” he assured her. Eddie told us Karen would be another one of our neighbors.

“Oh, great! you probably think I am the worst person ever!” Karen looked like the typical stuck-up, wine-drinking soccer mom that you picture in a mini-van picking her kids up from sports. Her expression suggested she was disappointed that seeing her in the pillory was a terrible first impression.

“I haven’t told them what you did to be here. I don’t even know what it was this time. You can tell them,” Eddie said sternly like that was an order.

“All I did was drink a little too much wine and told off some people who were talking behind my back,” Karen made it seem like it was an incredible overreaction to keep her locked up and exposed this way for speaking her mind.

“It says here you were gossiping,” Eddie picked up the notice that detailed Karen’s reason for punishment and read it. “You know what happens if you lie to people who ask you what you did wrong? You don’t seem repentant,” he said.

“Okay, I may have started some rumors about some of the backstabbing bitches who were cheating on their Masters! Is it gossiping if what you say is true?” Karen looked right at me as she asked the question like she expected me to defend her. She didn’t seem sorry at all for what she did. In fact, she looked like she was resolved to do it again.

“There are things that would get you kicked right out of Sunny Manor. You mess with someone’s kid, and you’ll be lucky if the law finds you first,” Eddie became very serious. “There are some things that we consider inappropriate and look the other way on. As an example, it is not good form to walk around the neighborhood with an erection,” he explained.

Lindsay interrupted and said that a rule against boners while naked was bullshit. I had to agree because I had one right now and it wouldn’t quit. I was just lucky I had on pants. “You’d let a woman walk around with hard nipples!”

“Yes, but it is simply etiquette for men to control their boner. Someone will speak to you quietly about it if it becomes a problem, but it isn’t against the rules. It is just frowned upon,” Eddie was talking directly to me. He joked that accidents will happen but if you pull it more than three times you are playing with it. “If you are walking around boi-oi-oi-oinging your pecker in everyone’s face then you will definitely get spoken too. A discrete bulge every now and then isn’t going to draw any attention,” he explained as he used his finger to illustrate how a boi-oi-oi-ing dick might act like a bouncy spring. I was red-faced.

“How can you expect a young boy around all these naked girls to control his erection?” My Dad asked.

“It only applies if that boy is walking around nude in public and If he is old enough to get erections he is usually old enough to take care of them himself,” Eddie implied I should jerk off to relieve the sexual tension. It definitely worked for gym class at school. “There are plenty of willing girls to help him out if he needs a little extra help,” Eddie was looking right at Stacy and Bambi when he said that.

I looked at my sneakers in shame but I assumed they both thought I was a total basket case loser.

“I say this because there are also violations we consider infractions,” Eddie explained. “You’ll find a whole list of them in your handbook, but most of them are pretty simple once you figure out the pattern. Don’t be an ass!”