Chapter 15

Master began the discussion by laying out a foundation for our discussion. He wanted my mom to understand the goal was re-directing my bad behavior to better behavior. I would also pay back all of my debts to her and he would help my sister start a new life her time with him was over. He also explained that I’d be there permanently after the trial, and Chastity would eventually get to leave after two years.

My mom took issue with the word slave and immediately became confrontational about it. Master repeated several times that it was consensual and voluntary on our part but my mother didn’t seem to understand the point he was trying to make. “In case you had not noticed Abraham Lincoln freed the slaves. My girls can leave anytime they want. What if you bait and switch them and they end up somewhere they don’t want to be?” she asked.

Master told her this relationship was entirely voluntary and consensual. He explained that it was not unlike a marriage. “The certificate says you have to stay forever. Not everyone keeps those vows,” he said.

My mom had been married at least seven times. She had husbands who cheated on her, had gambling and alcohol addictions, and those were the GOOD ones. Charlie was alright, though. He didn’t do any of that stuff as far as I knew.

She asked if we were going to be legally married. When Master told her he had a wife waiting for him at home, it took about ten minutes to explain his complicated relationship with his wife. “She is my submissive. She is okay with me bringing home a slave to train. When Chastity asked to come too, Wendy was okay with that. My wife has a role in the house that is very different than the ones your daughters will play,” he explained.

My mother still was skeptical, and we had not even been asked to speak yet.

Master said he had obligations on his end and that if he didn’t honor them, we would be free to go and he would give us back all of the money he was holding for us. He tried to make it very clear that he wanted to set up a repayment plan for all the money we’ve ever borrowed, with interest.

My mom didn’t seem that interested in discussing it. She wanted her money but I think she has been promised repayment for so long she would believe it when she saw it. Master assured her that he would make us both send status reports if she wanted to hear what we are learning and how we are doing.

“What would I do with an email that says today I had sex with a bunch of niggers and then squatted down at the dinner table?” my mom sneered.

Did I mention my mom is hopelessly racist? I probably should have mentioned that. She never talked to me about saving my virginity. She also never spoke to me about not smoking pot. I knew my mom had gotten high a few times but never around me or my siblings. It was the 1970s back then, after all.

The things she made absolutely clear to both Chastity and I was never to mix races or date black guys. Those were lessons she pounded into our heads pretty regularly. Mom’s house was decorated with confederate flags and I think it began to dawn on Mike that my mom was a closet racist. It was something I should have probably told him before we arrived.

“They are equal opportunity whores, Ma’am,” Mike snickered.

My mom changed the subject back to Jessie and asked how we could justify getting him mixed up in any of this.

“I am teaching Jessie. He is going to learn that authority always comes with a responsibility to those you lead. He is going to be down in Florida and he asked to help supervise the girls. He’s demonstrated he will take it seriously. The moment he doesn’t, I’ll suspend his privileges,” Mike snapped his fingers for emphasis.

“I am already learning a lot, Gramma!” Jessie added with an enthusiastic but dopey grin.

“I am sure you are,” my mom replied sarcastically. I am sure hers was a rhetorical statement.

Jessie decided to demonstrate. We were still in the “Big Why” phase of the demonstration. The goal was to explain the point and purpose of what we are doing and what the desired outcome would be. Mike had skipped a lot of it, but it was necessary to establish why we couldn’t just be proper ladies and behave ourselves without Master.

Instead, Jessie went straight to ordering us to do deep knee bends at the dinner table. “Up!” he commanded and began to count.

Charlie’s eyes twinkled. He watched fascinated when my sister’s big jugs bounced up as she stood before bouncing back down when she squatted again. Randy laughed heartily but what surprised me was that I saw my mom stifle a laugh. I am sure we looked pathetic and goofy, exercising at the dinner table while the others ate.

“One ... two ... three ... let’s see those titties bounce, girls. Snap up and then squat back down. You know the drill! four... , “ my nephew commanded us with growing confidence.

“If you want to do exercise you could sign up for a gym,” my mom offered her suggestion with a more serious expression.

“This is just a warm-up to demonstrate that they have to obey commands. It helps keep them fit and it humbles them to do it naked,” Jessie explained.

Once again Randy implored us to whip our tits out. Mom didn’t see the point in having us naked if we could do the same exercises with minimal clothes.

“I’m okay with them sweating in their clothes,” Mike shrugged and told her it wasn’t absolutely necessary we be naked at all times. He said he would only demonstrate the things she wanted to know about in more detail. “If you came to my house I would expect you to abide by my rules and my way of doing things, but in your house, I will always respect your wishes.”

“Hah, that means if you visit them in Florida, he’d want you to get naked too!” Randy laughed with a mouthful of food while suggesting my mother would have to live like we did. My mom replied with a sour expression like she just sniffed a fart.

“No, that isn’t true. Emily and my wife have different expectations in the house. They don’t have to get naked,” Mike said.

“Correction,” Emily held up a finger while a smart-assed expression spread on her face. “I WON’T be getting naked,” she said.

“Oh no, then nobody will ever see those perky little boobies!” Randy joked sarcastically.

My daughter held up a fist and then pretended to cast it like a fishing line at him. As she reeled it in she lifted her middle finger and glared at him. It was pretty funny, but you had to be there to appreciate it.

“Look, all I am saying is that if you are uncomfortable with nudity in your house, we are perfectly fine with that. I’ll show you a glimpse of what they will be doing and learning and I’ll explain why, if you want me to do that,” he said. Mike added, “I like to keep them naked because they hide behind their clothes and makeup. They get to decide how much they show of their bodies to others. It also helps to make sure they aren’t aroused when they shouldn’t be.”

Randy didn’t believe him and said Mike just wanted to see our asses because “Asses are sweeter than honey.”

Mike chuckled and agreed with him and admitted that was another benefit. Randy offered to fist bump Mike in agreement. Once again, Randy withdrew his fist before Mike connected and told him he was too slow.

My mom considered Mike’s words. I don’t know what he’d said that made her relent but she said, “They might as well take off their clothes then. We can see everything they have anyway and that way Charlie won’t be straining his eyeballs, trying to get a better look,” my mom added with a churlish grin. Mom was incredibly observant, and she always knew Charlie was a boob-watcher. He had been staring at us the entire time. Charlie blushed but didn’t deny it.

“Finally!” Randy laughed to suggest things were starting to get interesting at last. He seemed more than just a little amused.

Chastity and I knew what was expected of us. We didn’t need to be told by anyone to begin to undress. As we removed each article of clothing, we neatly folded it. We even have rules about how we should strip.

Master pointed out that if we were wearing shoes, they’d come off first. Those would always be followed by our bottoms, whether shorts, skirts or dresses. He explained that we had to bare our pussies and asses first so that we could get over the hurdle of exposing our most intimate body parts before we uncovered anything else. He was right, too.

The first time I was ordered to remove my clothing in front of someone I knew, back in Jerry’s trailer, the most difficult part would have been deciding where to start, if it wasn’t for Master’s instructions. My mom was shocked I didn’t just drop my skirt on the floor for her to pick up and wash like I would have, when I was a teenager.

“Well Damn, if I had known all it takes to get you to fold your clothes is to make you go around bare-assed, I might just have done that,” my mom joked. I knew she was kidding. She uses humor as a defense mechanism just like my daughter and I often do.

Chastity’s huge tits blasted free when she slipped her top off completely and Randy made a “Boi-oi-oi-ng” noise. My mom chided him for being disrespectful.

“It’s perfectly fine if Randy wants to laugh. The girls are here to amuse and I’d rather that, than either of you being uncomfortable,” Mike assured her. He told my mother that the clothes would be put back on as soon as my mother said she was no longer comfortable with their nudity.

“You need a safe word!” Randy joked that my mother needed a special word she could say to stop everything. It was a common practice in BDSM. Randy suggesting that meant he knew at least a little about bondage.

“What is a safe word?” my mom asked.

We were still neatly folding our tops the way Master required us to. That didn’t mean just roughly folding them but laying our tops on the floor and making exact folds while ensuring there were no wrinkles. It took longer to do it this way but the lesson wasn’t about folding as quickly as possible - rather doing it in a precise and regimented way. Master had brought that to their attention too but they didn’t seem to appreciate the extra effort. Probably because they were so surprised that we’d put ANY effort in at all.

Mike explained what a safe word was and added that he simply didn’t use them. “In practice, they are not as effective for lifestyle training. They’re great when partners play once in a while but this isn’t play and it’s 24/7. In addition, my submissives usually wear a bit gag or ball gag in their mouth and they’d have to have alternate ways of expressing their desire to put a stop to what was happening to them anyway.”

So how WILL they put a stop to everything?” Randy asked, finally paying attention to what Mike was saying.

“In a word, they don’t. This isn’t a game. This will be their lives for some time to come. I prefer to rely upon agreed upon boundaries and limits as well as sound judgment. I would never do anything abusive or harmful to your daughters. They have agreed to trust that I have their best interests at heart. Certainly neither of them ever had their own best interests at heart before I came along.”

My mom seemed skeptical and said that most men say that before they start showing their true colors.

Master offered my mom an opportunity to see our progress and speak with us on webcam every week if she wanted. “I can be out of the room completely and they can both give you their honest feedback about how I am treating them. I’ll hold them to whatever they agreed to do but I won’t make them do anything they didn’t tell me they were willing to do in the first place,” he promised.

My mom seemed a little confused but it looked to me, like mom regarded Mike slightly more seriously after that.

When we returned to position naked now, Jessie made us start marching in place and lifting our knees high while holding our hands behind our heads.

“Is this all you make them do?” My mom didn’t see a problem with us just having to do exercises, even if we were naked. Our tits were bouncing, our butts were jiggling, and our bald pussies were glistening.

Jessie shook his head and explained he could give us one-word commands too. He told us, “Table!”

“I still don’t get it. What is the point of making them be tables? We already have a perfectly good table,” my mom knocked on the antique oak table that has been in our family for decades. The table needs to be re-finished and my brother had carved a bunch of obscene words into it when we were teenagers. There are also plenty of old boogers and gum wads under the table too.

My brother rapped his knuckles against the back of my head. “You can’t get much harder than this head,” he chuckled.

I tried not to look up at him sourly. He wanted to see me get angry and yell at him. I didn’t take the bait no matter how much I wanted to. It was really difficult and I think I managed to impress him. Instead, I pretended to giggle and I waited to be put into another position.

Master explained that we were expected to immediately comply and that while it may seem silly, this conditioning was intended to continually remind us of our place and put us in a submissive mindset. “If they just practice a few hours a day and then switch back to Kim and Amanda, they will never really change. It is necessary for them to experience a constant state of submission to truly get into the right headspace.”

When Jessie ordered us into the inspection position, we turned around and bent over as we were expected to do. I held my ass cheeks open and swallowed hard. My mom couldn’t see my face from that angle, but I was blushing like a virgin on her wedding night. I knew she thought I was a brazen slut for showing myself that way, but inside I was incredibly reluctant and humiliated.

“WHAT IS IN THEIR BUTTS?” my mother shrieked when she saw the lips to the stainless steel butt plugs we both wore for the first time.

“Do you really want to know?” Randy chuckled.

“That is my butt plug, Ma’am” I replied with a submissive tone. I knew what was coming so despite my humiliation, I preempted Master’s instruction. I removed it and showed it to her. There was a loud pop as I pulled it out and I am sure she was looking right up my ass when I did. I explained that like my collar, it is a constant reminder of my commitment to my training. “I have been a pain in the ass to others all of my life and now I have a constant pain in my own ass,” I said.

“I just like having it there,” Chastity giggled and wiggled her butt. She didn’t pull hers out.

“This is really quite shocking.”

My mom didn’t say that, her silence did. I wasn’t sure what she was thinking but it seemed that she was frustrated, confused, and speechless. She poured herself a tall glass of wine.

“Why did you remove your butt plug without being told to do it, Joy?” Master asked me.

“My mother asked about it and I assumed I would be inspected next, Master?” I said like I was guessing at the right answer while quivering inside. I should have known not to remove it until told. It felt like a rookie mistake but I was just so nervous around my mom. Being nervous isn’t an excuse either, though. I’d screwed up.

“Uh oh. You know what happens when you ASSUME? You make an Ass out of YOU!” Randy added.

“And Me,” Mike finished the expression for him. That is an old joke that goes back to a Bad News Bear movie from the 1980s.

“Yeah, you make an ass out of you and your Master,” Randy laughed.

“You are not to anticipate any instructions. Your mother may not have wanted to see you yank out your butt plug. Return it at once!” he scolded me. I felt instantly like a total failure. My sister wasn’t in trouble and I was the one who was supposed to know the rules. I sucked my butt plug clean and put it back into my asshole. Even Randy didn’t say anything snarky about that.

“If you don’t mind, I will demonstrate a spanking punishment that would be executed in the common areas of my house for minor infractions like that. The girls need constant correction and supervision. When they make mistakes they need an immediate reminder of the rules,” Master said.

My mom chuckled and said she needed more wine for this. She got up to pour herself a glass.

Mike ordered me into the punishment position, which is very similar to the inspection position except I hold my ankles when I bend over. He began to spank me with his hand and I counted each stroke.

“Do you know why you are being punished?” he asked as he slapped my ass. It was a hard slap that left my bottom red with his handprint on the first strike.

“Yes, Master, I failed to listen for an instruction. I pulled out my butt plug and I should not have done that. Please punish me,” I answered as I counted and thanked him.

Master explained that I had to give complete and honest answers to questions. He would not be satisfied with a simple yes or no when he was punishing me. He didn’t want me to tune it out and not pay attention.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake, just stop,” My mother said. Mike was just getting started pounding my butt. It was already starting to tingle. The humiliation of being spanked like a truant schoolgirl again in front of my mother was winding me up with all sorts of emotions. I was equal parts humiliated and strangely aroused.

Mike asked her if she was offended and offered to stop the demonstrations.

“Amanda or Joy or whatever she wants to call herself today, looks like she is enjoying it,” my mom took a big drink of her wine and set the empty glass down. “Let me show you what I used to do when the girls were in high school and didn’t listen.”

My mom withdrew a wooden cutting board that was shaped much like a paddle. It had grooves carved in the wood for catching drippings. “I had a proper paddle back then, but this will do,” she said. It was obvious my mom was not impressed by Master’s light spanking demonstration and wanted to show him how to properly blister a girl’s butt and get her attention.

I had almost forgotten about the times my mother had paddled me and my sister as teenagers. “If the girls really fucked up, I would take them into my bedroom and make them take their panties down and give them twenty of these across the kisser,” she said as she swung it through the air.

Mike offered my mother my ass and let her have a swing. My mom swung the paddle hard enough that when it connected with my ass it caused my entire body to shake. She put some torque on it and bent her wrist just like she used to do when we were growing up. Mom said she was raised by a Marine and learned this technique from him.

“Where was I when all this was happening?” Randy laughed as he watched my mother spank my ass. I counted each swat and thanked her for it.

“You were probably off gallivanting around and sneaking in and out of girl’s bedrooms. You were a few years older than the girls. I always did this in private because their step-dad would have enjoyed watching it a little too much!” my mother admitted.

“Hell, I would have enjoyed watching too!” Randy smiled enthusiastically.

“I always believed the mother should punish the girls and the dad should punish the boys. The problem is your stepfather at the time was probably off gallivanting in and out of other women’s bedrooms too,” she admitted.

“Hell, I probably passed him him coming in as I was on my way out of those bedrooms,” Randy joked. It would have been pretty weird if my creepy stepfather was banging the same girls Randy was when Randy was a teen. I wouldn’t have put it past that stepfather though.