Chapter 8

As Told By Karen McGifford

I had to tell my husband what had happened and I wasn’t looking forward to it. Naturally, on my way back inside, I bumped into Kathy again. She looked at me in disbelief then eventually rolled her eyes.

“Is that what I think it is?” she demanded, as if asking me to confirm I found it acceptable to be in public like I was.

“If you think it’s cum then yes, Ma’am” I said and asked which guest was her husband.

Kathy wouldn’t tell me. I was only going to confirm it wasn’t his, at least. I smiled at her politely and when I reached our table, I told my husband what had happened outside.

Master allowed me to sit, but I wasn’t allowed to get my dress between me and the seat, so I had to carefully scoot the hem up until my naked ass was on the seat. I didn’t care. I was happy because it seemed like my husband was going to comfort me and help me recover from the theft.

“Clean the cum off your face using this bread roll. I want you to eat it.”

Master made me eat the cum glazed roll while he decided what I should do next. He seemed to digest my words for a moment as he watched me devour the bread roll before telling me I would be the one punished for losing the butt plug.

I looked at him in astonishment. I had a really hard time keeping it together when he said that. I felt that was unfair but Master read my expression and calmly reminded me that it had been my responsibility and he didn’t want to hear my excuses.

I felt his decision was terribly unfair and yet at the same time my seat was getting soaked because I secretly liked his cruel logic. I was at fault for what someone else did. I know it is strange but something about how unfair the situation was and that I had given him the authority to punish me for it, made my nipples rock hard.

That night I drank four glasses of wine in less than 3 hours which meant that I also fucked about twenty guys. Kevin and Betty were there but avoided us. I felt bad about that because it reinforced the fact that I couldn’t be trusted to be honest.

The waiters did bring my plug back to me on a tray, which was nice of them. At the same time, it was like the world went quiet for me as they walked the tray with the lone stainless steel butt plug, like a rocket ship on its launchpad, through the banquet room.

In reality, hardly anyone noticed but to me, it was like everyone in the room stopped what they were doing, to stare at the tray, then at me. The waiters smiled at me politely after they’d had their fun.

Master and Philbert brought several guys I didn’t know, back to our room for an extended demonstration of my obedience training. The men chuckled and laughed but not one of them protested or walked out. I made it very clear this was consensual and that I had agreed to it. They didn’t feel guilty in the least spreading me out and fucking the shit out of me, either.

My husband told them that these punishments were a regular part of my life. I had to admit to each that they kept me in the right mindset and thank them as they spanked me, some asking questions about my training and in one case about the reason his wife hated me.

Since I didn’t know who he was, I had to embarrass myself further by admitting the fact and having him remind me. Until you’ve been over a man’s knee trying to remember how you knew them, you probably wouldn’t understand why that was embarrassing.

It was Philbert’s suggestion that Master punish me even when we are not in private. He thought it was because Mike would be embarrassed to spank me in front of others that he was reluctant to do so and Mike explained that he had no desire to upset others simply to teach his wife a lesson.

He bought some hot sauce and Icy-Hot cream from the gift shop at the Hotel. Philbert suggested I carry it in my purse at all times and when I get mouthy or in need of an attitude adjustment, I could be ordered to rub one of them on my fingers and fuck myself.

Philbert had a surprising cruel streak. He was almost like a different guy from the dweeb I’d gone to school with and I was quickly learning real respect for him. Master slathered up my pussy with Icy-Hot and let me dance through the tingly sensation while they laughed, before I could get dressed to return to the reunion.

Philbert wasn’t finished with his unpleasant suggestions however. I wondered if he’d dreamed of scenarios where he could torment me because it was his suggestion that hot sauce could be poured on the rim of my buttplug whenever I’m particularly uncooperative.

I have to admit – it was incredibly effective and lasted long enough that I wouldn’t soon forget it. Mike was overjoyed and added him on Facebook too. I was nervous that the two of them would start trading ideas about how to control me and at the same time curious what other wicked things Philbert might dream up for me to endure.

It was like something straight out of my wickedest of dreams. I smiled at him and thanked him for his help.

“Really? You aren’t mad?” Philbert asked me as if he was concerned about my feelings.

“No Philbert, the pain is barely tolerable but it must be on my cunt-hole and shit-hole to teach me an effective lesson. I am just grateful that Master no longer wants to make me lift my skirt and get spanked in public,” I said.

Philbert chuckled and rubbed some hot sauce on my lips. He told me that there were lots of places like on the inside of my nose and my cum-hole that the punishments could be applied to. I smiled and tried to endure the growing desire to throttle him.

My husband chuckled and said he might still spank me in public if it came to it. He and Philbert were fast becoming friends.

In addition to my new skirt rule about not letting it touch the seat cushion, I also had to sit with my legs apart and uncrossed at the table. I had to keep my hands flat on the table where Master could see them and he hand fed me or occasionally allowed me to drink wine.

This was after the reunion had been in full swing for hours - I’d been up to our room twice and out to the dumpster countless times. Well, at least twenty times. The people at our table were pretty well six sheets to the wind by the time Cheyenne turned up. I don’t think any of them really appreciated the fact that after I thanked them I opened my mouth and picked up the butt plug without using my hands. Then I turned around and bent at the waist and set the plug flat on my chair.

I turned around again and lifted my skirt a little and wiggled my ass to drive myself onto the plug before clenching and sucking it back into my butt. Master pet me on the head and hand fed me three delicious shrimp. I’d now consumed a bread roll and shrimp. I thought about it as being a surf and turf meal. I’d had all the meat I could get my hands on in my mouth, so now I was being fed the seafood.

It was shortly after that when Cheyenne strolled in to the reunion. She came after they stopped taking tickets so she wouldn’t have to pay. She was clearly drunk and dressed in an outfit almost identical to mine, except it was red. A Mexican guy I could only assume was Hector, was with her. She was acting belligerent and calling everyone she made eye contact with, a shit-hook and said their asses sucked wind. It was obvious she’d been drinking for a while and it wouldn’t be long before she spotted me.

Sure enough. “Oh look! It’s Honey! I should have known from the fish smell you were here!” she slurred her speech.

“Hello Ma’am,” I smiled at her. I was drunk too from chugging four big glasses of wine but I wasn’t sloshed like her.

“You think you’re all high and mighty! Come down from your fancy house with your good looking husband and live with me awhile! You’re just so hoity toity and you look down your nose at me! You think I am trash, don’t you?!” she was wobbling around on heels easily as high as mine.

I tried to tell her I didn’t think that at all but I secretly did. She was so obviously an overly permissive mom and a terrible role model for her daughter. In my mind, she should have been ashamed of the way she acted in public but neither Hector or her didn’t seem to care about anyone else. She hadn’t even bothered to bring her daughter along for the free food. I know I can’t really talk but I still felt superior to her. At least I wasn’t being a total bitch with no regard for anyone else’s feelings. I was serving. My Master and anyone who wanted to sample me. Still, I kept my thoughts to myself and pretended she was my better as Master had insisted.

Cheyenne wasn’t in any sort of mood to listen to my apologetic prattle. “Bah! If you’re gonna open your pie hole, at least use it to kiss my ass. I could do with a tongue in my sweet pussy and ass right about now, too!” She wasn’t really making a scene but anyone in the immediate area couldn’t help but hear her.

“I would be happy to, ma’am,” I replied in a much quieter and polite way than her so as not to disturb the other partygoers. “Would you like me to do it outside behind the dumpster or in the bathroom?” I asked as sweetly as I possibly could.

It was something of an open secret now that I was fucking anyone who asked. The tables near me had seen me return with cum on my face, in my hair and my makeup running so much that there could be no doubt. I would have to live from now on with the performance I’d put on tonight and I had resigned myself to it. It was done and out there and in a way, I was glad.

There would be no living this down and returning to the demure Karen McGifford I’d been mere months ago. I had behaved like Horney Honey Holes all night and I owned what I did. I had to. I’d been in too many pictures to imagine that at least some of them wouldn’t make it to Facebook! Still, I thought I was prepared for the scorn and ridicule I’d have to face from Cheyenne.

It took my cousin a few minutes to realize that I was seriously offering to kiss her ass. “You’ll lick my butthole, too?” she asked suspiciously.

“Yes, ma’am,” I I confirmed while nodding my agreement. She looked at the man she was with and blew him a kiss to make him jealous and took me by the hand. She led me into the ladies room.

The woman who had heard me at the gas station restroom the day before recognized me instantly. “Karen Jones! I KNEW it was you at that gas station! You dirty little tramp!” she said as we walked into the bathroom.

“Blow it out your ass, you uptight bitch!” Cheyenne kicked towards the woman’s crotch but missed because she was so unsteady. Still, it effectively chased her out of the bathroom. I giggled as she led me into a toilet stall where, once the door was closed, I started to take off all of my dress.

“Hell no! Why are you taking off your clothes? You’re just going down on me. I’m certainly not going down on you too!” Cheyenne suddenly seemed a little more sober. She did look hot in a trashy kind of way and I found myself imagining her head between my thighs too.

She didn’t wait for an answer. As soon as I stepped out of my dress, she pressed her tits to mine and held me. She didn’t seem as unsteady on her feet as I’d expected, either. Her hot breath still reeked of whiskey, cigarettes and garlic though so I knew she wasn’t faking her state.

So I kissed her. My cousin and someone I held in contempt. It was my place to make her feel good and I was going to meet my Master’s expectations, even with her. When she pulled away, she told me I was a good kisser and she lifted her skirt expectantly. Unsurprisingly, she wasn’t wearing panties either. Her pussy looked messy. All flaps, crease and excitement. I remember thinking it looked like a BLT with way too much Mayonnaise and tomatoes.

I had only serviced men so far tonight and I was strangely aroused by going down on a woman even though she was my cousin. Maybe BECAUSE she was this particular cousin. Cheyenne turned around and knelt with one knee on the toilet to give me access to her pussy and ass.

“You like licking dirty assholes, don’t you?” she accused.

I wanted to say that I didn’t but I WAS getting off on doing this raunchy act with her. I admitted to her that I did enjoy it.

“Guys pay a hundred bucks to watch me do this with my daughter and she doesn’t give as much tongue as you,” she said.

My stomach tied itself in knots when she said that. I couldn’t believe she could be so open about it. I really had no room to say anything though. I was about to go down on my first cousin! When I dove in, her pussy was so wet and accommodating. My cheeks were instantly soaked and she pushed my nose up into her ass while I ate her out.

“Hey that’s just business! This is pleasure,” she croaked and belched loudly. I felt a rush of hot air on my face as she queefed at the same time. She told me to get up there and lick her butthole like I’d promised. “Just finger my pussy!” She said.

I did as she instructed and I tasted her packed shit as I pushed my tongue in her ass. I have grown used to my own flavor on my butt plug but it was intensely humiliating to lick HER asshole. Not only was she my cousin but she was a whore and a slut like me. Her ass smelled like sweat and bologna. Cheyenne kept my face locked in her crotch for what felt like ages. I heard women walk into the bathroom and laugh. They knew what we were doing and they called us both pigs. I’ll admit that it felt amazing to be considered as much a pig as Cheyenne.

Then Cheyenne lifted one leg and let out a small fart. She didn’t say a word before she pissed directly into my mouth and drenched my face and body. Mike had shown me pictures of women being pissed on while men used them although he had never pissed on me himself. I wasn’t prepared for the acrid sour apple smell as the warm yellow liquid coated my body and I admit I freaked a little but she held me firmly in place while she relieved herself on me. Unable to escape her piss, I surrendered to it. I even tried to appreciate the degradation in it. I was momentarily relieved I’d taken my dress off but then I remembered I hadn’t picked it up off the floor! Fuck!

Cheyenne giggled at me when she finished. “Sorry about that! I squirt when I orgasm,” she told me.

“That wasn’t squirting, ma’am!” I was angry and drenched. My hair was soaked and my makeup had run down my face. Again. This time I smelled like piss instead of cum and my dress was in a puddle of the stuff.

“Yeah, you should have made me orgasm!” she laughed like the consequences of not pleasing her was to be pissed on.

She told me that there were customers at her club who would have paid her two hundred dollars for the same experience. Cheyenne staggered out of the stall and left the bathroom, calling loudly for someone called Manny. HER clothes were still dry. Manny, the guy who brought her to the reunion, turned out to be her eldest stepson and Hector wasn’t even there.

I, on the other hand, was faced with a dilemma. I was drenched in my cousin’s piss. I had to swallow what was in my mouth and wipe my face. I couldn’t imagine Master would make me stay at the reunion like this but I’d have to run the gauntlet from the bathroom back to our table and explain what happened before he’d let me return to our room. Everyone would see me. I felt I had no choice but to summon all my courage and walk back to where Master was. If I ran, then everyone would see I was covered in piss. I walked like it was no big deal and everyone who’d seen me dripping cum all evening, now noticed I was covered in piss instead. My reputation was ruined with every one of my former classmates.

Mike laughed and said that he told me I should have taken my clothes off.

“Master, may we go please?” I asked politely.

“No, sit here. They’re about to announce the Queen and the King of the reunion,” he laughed. “Please? Master?” I begged. “I’ll do anything you tell me! Please just let’s go, now?” I begged him as pitifully as I knew how. I didn’t want to touch him, knowing I’d ruin his suit with my cousin’s piss.

“I am tired of making deals and accommodations, Honey. You disobeyed me and didn’t take your clothes off. You can sit there and take your medicine,” he replied. Even the drunk couple sitting next to us moved away in disgust as I sat in the chair, still dripping wet.

“Cheyenne told me to leave it on, Sir!” I said defensively. I knew that wasn’t entirely true, but it was close enough to the truth for me and my husband would never know the difference.

“Is Cheyenne your Mistress? I’d let Philbert be your Master and train you long before I’d let Cheyenne. She is way out of control!” Master smiled sadistically as he ate a cracker and looked at me calmly, waiting for me to break down and cry.

I could have walked out on him right then and said the game was over. People I knew were leering at me and giggling. I realized that the attention I was receiving was the dream I had been having. I opened my legs and put my arms flat on the table and waited for the announcement. I was thankful I wasn’t called on stage. That would have been an ironic twist that would have made things even worse – strangely I still hoped they would have called me. I could have stood on stage and told everyone what a dumb cow I was and apologized profusely to the women for all the husbands I fucked and the happy nights I might have ruined. I knew there were several couples that left because the wife figured out her husband had boned me in the parking lot or our room.

When we finally called it a night, Master made me strip off my dress in the elevator on the way up to our room. It was late at night, he told me I stank and I agreed. I was still afraid that someone would see me naked but I did as he said, glad to be rid of the piss-soaked dress. As I stepped out of the elevator, we passed an elderly couple. They were certainly not pleased to see me and I was mortified to see them too. They were downright offended and I continued to be mortified.

“I’m SO sorry! I spilled something awful on my dress!” I apologized but that wasn’t good enough for them.

They were indignant and outraged and wouldn’t have cared if I’d fallen into a vat of tar. To them, there was NO acceptable reason to be naked in a hotel hallway. I was worried they’d have the hotel kick us out or call the police. Master told me when we got into the room, he wouldn’t make me parade naked around them again and he was deadly serious.

“Master! We may have ruined their night. They were probably here for a special occasion. I don’t mind flashing when guys are smiling and enjoying it but I’m worried that we really crossed the line this time,” I told him.

“They don’t understand your training. They aren’t ready to understand it. What is done is done,” Master at least acknowledged that it may not have been well-advised to parade me naked down the hotel hallway. I agreed and asked if I could take a shower. Master chuckled and said that I had already had the most golden of showers there is. I scrunched my nose in disgust.

“Are you above getting pissed on? You didn’t have a problem getting jizzed on,” Master asked me. I had never done water sports of any kind. I nodded as if to say I didn’t have a problem with it even though I did.

“I asked you a question and I expect you to give a clear answer. We’ve been at this for two days and you still act like you think you are entitled to disrespect me! You should be hosed down like the bitch dog you are. I’m going downstairs to find out if any of the waiters have a hose they use to wash things down. In the meantime, I want you to wait here,” Master grabbed me. He hauled me by the hair and the scruff of my neck to the patio and bent me over the railing. He spread my legs wide and cuffed my ankles to the guard rail on the balcony. I could have resisted but instead I held my foot in place so that he could more easily cuff me. Then he made me bend all the way over the rail and cuffed my wrists to the same rails.

After that, he fucked the shit out of me from behind. It was strangely intoxicating to feel the night air. People might have looked up at our room and seen me bent over with my husband going to town on me but he just didn’t care. He fucked my ass and came inside me.

When he pulled out, he got the three vibrating dildos and shoved them inside me. He turned them on and made them alternate at varying intensities just like when I had been caged. The one on my clit was going off at maximum while the one in my ass was barely going at all. This was the most confusing and frustrating of all settings. He wadded up my dress, stuffed it in my mouth and said that if it isn’t where he’d left it when he got back, I would spend the night this way.

You may think it was cruel to be completely immobilized and left chained to the balcony of our hotel where anyone could look up and see me. But the thing is, I had developed a taste for this now. I was strangely intoxicated by the night air, several glasses of wine and the adrenalin in my body. I was also overjoyed not to be cramped in that tiny dog cage again. Yet I dutifully held the dress between my teeth, tasting the piss squeezing out of the cloth all over again.

Master left me for a long time like this. I had to piss while the dildo was inside me and I just let it splash down my leg while I endured the constant teasing of the dildos bringing me to the edge of orgasm. I sucked my dress into my mouth and tried to get used to the idea that was my cousin’s piss I was scrunching out of the material.

I began to anticipate the dildos thrusts and vibrations. I bucked my ass up and down trying to satisfy myself as the toys kept me in a state of suspended hyper-ecstasy. I didn’t orgasm but I constantly felt like I might if I just had a single proper thrust from one of the dildos inside me. I missed most of all being able to snuggle with Master while I was being tormented by the vibrators. I wanted him to rub my shoulders and tell me what a good girl I had been tonight.

Instead, when he came back out to the balcony, he seemed upset. “Fucking waiters! You would think after you spread your ass for them, they’d do me a solid!”

Master didn’t expect a reply and what could I have said anyway? ‘Oh that’s too bad, Sir’, or something equally as pathetic? Mike had been talking to himself anyway. He checked my restraints and overall condition.

“You seem like you’re having fun,” Master observed as the dildos dug me out and did their work to make me weak in the knees. I murmured into the dress but Master couldn’t hear me. I tried to enunciate better and I said “Yes master, I am getting turned on. I can’t help it,” I tried again. The skirt dropped out of my mouth and wafted down to the bottom floor. I watched it fall. I hadn’t meant to drop it. I was trying to be a good girl and answer my Master’s direct question!

“Only a wicked cunt would get turned on by being restrained outside, covered in piss and other men’s jizz,” he scoffed as he too watched my expensive dress fall out of my mouth.

“Please Master! I held it in my teeth! I only meant to answer you,” I begged as he started to close the glass door. “Don’t you want to have me lay by your side?” I whined.

“Yes, but only when you’ve earned it. You clearly need more training,” Master said and with that he left me like that until 4am.

I cried and whined but I knew he was right. I did have wicked thoughts like this and many times tonight I had orgasmed and been extremely excited by what we were doing. I just felt so guilty about it. When I finally passed out, I began to dream.

This time there were two of me. On one side, I was pure and naked. I had long blonde hair, big natural tits and I looked like the poster-woman for the Wyoming nudists who live out on the prairie. I was surrounded by wildlife and pristine natural mountains and forests. My hair was in braids and I was a good wife, who only served her husband in the bedroom. I cooked, cleaned and took care of my family.

The other version of me had massive fake tits. They were absolutely huge beach ball sized silicon funbags stretching my tit skin to it’s limits. My ass was huge too and I was covered in obscene tattoos like Cheyenne. I had a nose ring and my tits and clit were pierced. I even had a piercing in my asshole to lock my butt plug in place and locks hanging off my cunt lips. I was in a cage with Cheyenne and we were sucking cocks together, each trying to get at the next one first as they were pushed through the bars. We competed like we needed to suck the dicks pointed at us for oxygen or we’d run out of air. Our bodies were positioned in the most obscene manner. We were taken on a flatbed truck through an old trailer park that was more like a circus and we were just another sideshow exhibit.

Clarita walked out of her trailer in the nude and laughed at me. She said “Why do you have that big plug up your ass? Is it holding all the cum inside so it doesn’t flood the earth? Should we build an ark?”

Cheyenne’s eldest stepson Manny, was there too. He told Clarita she would be in the cage next if she didn’t straighten up. Because it was a dream, Clarita was suddenly dressed again but only for as long as it took her to strip naked. She shrugged and announced it was fine with her. Then snap, she was in the cage with us. She wiggled and writhed her body between us and pushed her tits and pussy across our bodies like a worm.

My husband appeared in the dream and asked me to make a choice. I could remain in the cage with them or I could be the woman on the prairie. He said I could not continue to be both.

“Wake up cunt,” Master’s real voice broke into my dream as he poured a bucket of ice water on me, freezing me back to consciousness. “I don’t want you here when the pool opens! We have some time to train before check out too,” he said.

I barely had time to process the dream. I could not remember if Clarita had really been Clarita, or maybe it had been Claire in my dream. They looked similar enough that I began to wonder if my subconscious had confused them. I’d definitely seen Clarita strip but I’d been in the cage with Claire. I didn’t want to think about that too much. Anyway, Clarita was skinny and had lots of tattoos whereas Claire was properly fed without a single tattoo. I focused on that in an attempt to rewrite my dream so that it could be all Clarita with no Claire.

Master uncuffed me and let me shake out my sore muscles then he took me through my new morning rituals of getting an enema, shaving and getting spanked. Normally, we don’t have this kind of time at home because even on weekends the kids are home. He made everything a ritual with a specific time limit. He asked me what I thought of the weekend.

I smiled and said that the attitude adjustment would last a long time. I even volunteered to do three day weekends like this again, to refresh my attitude. I asked him not to plan them in my hometown though. Master said he’d like that and didn’t elaborate further. I had no idea if he meant the attitude refresher or the hometown attitude refresher. I didn’t push for him to elaborate in case he meant the second thing.

“Will we still have normal family vacations though, Master?” I asked him as I crawled into the bathroom and waited for him to order me to squat over the toilet.

“What do you mean normal? This is your new normal,” Master seemed confused. He ordered me to squat and balance on the toilet rim while facing my ass towards him.

“I mean like with the kids. You know? Go to Disneyworld or something, Sir?” I said with a smile at the memory of our most recent family vacation as I started to piss.

“You would still have to obey your rules,” Master conceded. I didn’t want to spoil the fantasy of three days of total obedience by bringing up my concerns about The Dream being too washed out and passe when vanilla life was combined with it. So I changed the subject instead.

“Do you get even a little jealous seeing me with all those men, Sir?” I asked as I squeezed out a turd. I hated the sound of it - everything from the little farts that accompanied it to the sploosh as it his the water in the bowl. Master wanted to see me poop though and see it he would. I felt like I had a quart of packed, dried cum in there too.

“No. Not even a little. I’ve told you, slut. I know who you belong to. You are doing it because you are obeying me. I enjoy watching it but it’s primarily to teach you to be less stingy with your time, your body, your affection and your approval.”

I’d heard him say that to Philbert. I asked him who needed my approval.

Mike’s answer surprised me. “The kids! They’re always trying to impress you,” he said.

I admitted I tried to hold them to a high standard. “No you don’t. You just don’t like to give real compliments. You don’t like to acknowledge them when they do something good!” he said.

I’m a guidance counsellor. I know how to give compliments but maybe he was right. Maybe I was most critical of my own kids. I asked him to provide an example.

“Kyle came to the car wash to support you but you didn’t say a word to him about it,” he said without hesitation as if it had been bothering him for a while.

“He came to the car wash to take pictures of pretty girls, Sir! I was shocked Claire didn’t tease him and call him a pervert, Master,” I admitted.