Chapter 27

Serendipity Park – Georgia
As told by Emily

“Let me guess, you talked Stefan into being his Caporal and took his advantage of his trusting nature?” Barbara immediately accused me of leading his son, astray. I had an “I don’t give a shit” attitude and an impish grin on my face, so that did seem like a natural conclusion.

I was about to tell her that it was her precious, innocent and perfect daughter who had trained Stefan this afternoon. I wanted to make Barbara feel bad for accusing me. I wasn’t the bad influence and for once, I hadn’t done anything wrong.

I HAD smacked his butt a few times with the pine needles. I didn’t stop when he started pulling his pud in front of me, AND it was kind of my idea he do it in the first place. Those were details, though. I was about to tell her that I hadn’t been the one who agreed to be his Caporal when I looked at Courtney.

She looked so sad and guilty. She was sitting on her hands and looking down at her lap.

“Yeah, I did, but only because he asked me to train him,” I said. It was unusual for me to take the blame for something that I DID do. I had never EVER done it for something I didn’t do. I didn’t want Courtney to get in trouble. I had already put my foot in my mouth and gotten Stefan in trouble with his parents.

“What gives you the right?” Barbara was a proper bitch when she got riled up. She reminded me of the singer Pink because she was just very high strung. A day of marching around like a ponygirl had done nothing to soften her ego, that was for sure. She lambasted me for exposing Stefan to fetish play.

I wanted to tell her to look around and see that everyone else was doing it. She seemed to have no awareness of how that might affect him. This was a look but don’t do as do I do situation to her. In Barbara’s mind, it was no different than having a cocktail then driving a car with her child. She didn’t expect him to want to do it as well. I could see her point, but I didn’t want to concede it.

Mike and Jessie returned and she was still giving me crap about training her son. Stefan and Courtney looked on quietly. They were both red-faced. Mike sighed and asked what I’d done this time. I’ve fucked up and gotten myself in trouble a few times on this vacation and he wasn’t shocked that I had offended Barbara.

“Your daughter trained my son to be a pony today,” Barbara pointed a well-painted fingernail like it was a dagger, at Mike’s chest.

I thought he would correct her about me technically not being his daughter.

“Did your son ask her to do it?” Mike asked calmly.

Barbara dismissed his question, saying it was beside the point.

“Why?” Mike asked.

“He is just a kid. He doesn’t know any better,” Barbara continued to look angry. I was happy her attention wasn’t laser-focused on me any longer. She could be a real bitch when she thought her kids were being exploited.

“Emily is just a kid, too,” he shrugged.

“She knows better,” Barbara scoffed. She was making the point that I was much more mature than Stefan was and while that was true, she hadn’t said it as a compliment. We were close in age but years apart in terms of maturity.

“Did you guys have sex?” Mike asked me.

“No!” I laughed like he had asked me if I’d grown a penis.

“What did you guys do?” he probed.

I described having Stefan walk to the end of the road into the pool area. “He demonstrated all the pony gaits,” I said. I was able to describe a few, even though I had barely been paying attention when Stefan had told me about them.

“That’s it?” Mike asked.

Barbara’s steam started to evaporate. That didn’t sound all that bad.

“Yep,” I said.

“Did you do that around the pool?” he asked me.

“No, but now and then Stefan called me Miss Emily,” I said.

Mike chuckled. “Was Courtney involved?” he asked.

Barbara’s blue eyes shot daggers in Mike’s direction. She would never consider her perfect daughter capable of doing anything wrong.

“He called her Miss Courtney sometimes too,” I admitted. That was true. Stefan has called her Caporal more often, but in polite conversation, he referred to his sister as Miss Courtney during the day, to distinguish between which of us he was talking with.

“You didn’t touch each other or do anything else?” Mike asked me the question to be clear on what happened. I didn’t mention Stefan beating off in front of us but that hadn’t been the intent question. He wanted to know whether I’d played grab ass with Stefan.

“I did hit his butt with some pine needles on a branch when he needed to keep up with us. That’s it. I swear,” I admitted like I was happy to volunteer any information Mike wanted. That was also true. I never touched him, except to tag him during Marco Polo.

Barbara’s rage subsided very quickly and I was surprised how effectively Mike had smoothed things over. Barbara still clearly didn’t like me. She told me as much and said that she didn’t want us playing games like that any longer. “This is something adults do. You will have plenty of time to figure out if this is something you like once you’re older,” she told Stefan.

Stefan nodded politely and looked ashamed of himself. His little dick drooped between his legs like a defeated flag after a lost battle. The matter was forgotten after ten more minutes and we talked and hung out for a while longer.

Uncle Evil told corny jokes around a big pit fire. The adults passed around something they called “Applejack.” It was some sort of homemade moonshine and it tasted terrible. (I took a sip even though I wasn’t supposed to).

I asked Uncle Evil how he got his nickname. He showed me two tattoos. The first was on his left hand. He had the word GOOD spelled out on his knuckles. On his right hand, he had EVIL spelled out.

“I can do good with my left hand, and I sometimes do but Evil is a lot whole lot more interesting. Want me to show you what I can do with my right hand?” he asked as he came at me to tickle me. I jumped out of the way and he didn’t pursue me.

I liked Uncle Evil. I really didn’t want to because he was a lecherous old man. He endeared himself to me, though. He didn’t have a submissive and yet he was sort of the master of ceremonies, master of arms, security guard, maintenance man and all-around comedian. He even played an old-timey mandolin.

As he played, he explained it was a song Jethro Tull called “Aqualung.” I didn’t understand all of the words, but the way he sang the song, sounded like he was singing about himself. The lyrics began:

Sitting on a park bench
Eying little girls with bad intent.
Snots running down his nose.
Greasy fingers smearing shabby clothes, hey, Aqualung!
Drying in the cold sun.
Watching as the frilly panties run, H-h-h-hey, Aqualung!
Feeling like a dead duck!
Spitting out pieces of his broken luck, oh, Aqualung!
Ay-a-dee-dee-dee, Oh Aqualung...

He had a strangely lilting voice even though he sang with a rasp. I pretended not to enjoy it, but I listened to the whole thing before going back to the motorhome.

Courtney and Stefan walked with me. “Aren’t you afraid that I will be a bad influence on you?” I teased them.

“Mom is just very protective,” Courtney explained.

“OVER protective,” I sighed.

“Why did you cover for me?” She asked. “I was the one who trained Stefan. You just made bad jokes and hit him with pine needles,” she said.

I didn’t really want to think about why I took the blame. I certainly didn’t want a medal or anything. “I felt bad for telling on Stefan in the first place. I didn’t expect your mom to freak out. I am sorry about that,” I apologized without answering her question.

I don’t typically offer an explanation for my actions, much less a real apology but I really had been sorry. I usually only apologize when I think it will get me out of trouble, and right now, I wasn’t in trouble.

“Well, thank you,” Courtney kissed me on the cheek and skipped off with Stefan. I went to my room and put on my nightshirt. I’d had enough of being naked. Tomorrow was a new day and I wasn’t sure what was in store for me. I finger fucked myself to sleep and then passed out.

The next day Mike woke me up to tell me I had a visitor. I don’t like being woken up and he knows what happens when he pisses me off first thing in the morning. I am a sour-puss ALL day and I generally make him regret it. “Your friends are here,” he said through the closed door.

I jumped up out of bed and gave myself a stretch. It was 7am in the fucking morning. “What kind of bullshit is this?” I asked as I scratched my ass and opened the screen door between my bedroom and the rest of the motorhome.

Courtney’s bright face greeted me. She and her brother were completely nude again and Stefan was holding a jar of something. “Hey, good morning, sleepyhead! Did you forget to set your alarm clock?” Courtney asked.

“No, I did not forget,” I said sarcastically. I’ve never set it. I was on fucking vacation and I tried not to get up until at least 9am and that was ONLY because Mike makes some damn fine eggs and pancakes.

“Well, we are off to visit Pony Doris in the barn. We brought some special oats for her. The gruel they serve in the barn is awful,” she smiled.

Mike interrupted and said the barn was off-limits.

“General visitors are allowed in the morning for breakfast and just before light’s out, Sir,” Courtney politely explained to Mike. Mike said he didn’t know that and didn’t question her. He seemed to think I would go back to bed.

My hair was all fucked up, I didn’t have my makeup on yet. I probably looked like a mess, but they were ready to go now. I started to step out of the motorhome before I realized I still had my nightshirt on. I pulled it off and tossed it to the side.

“That shirt is funny. It says I shaved my balls for this,” Courtney chuckled and blushed at the caption on my nightshirt. I didn’t even realize that was the one I’d had on.

Jessie wanted to go with us too. He was already naked and enthusiastically ready to go. I sighed because I couldn’t very well tell him no. “I’ll check on Chastity and Joy and make sure they get fed,” Jessie waved at Mike. Mike nodded and said that would be nice of him.

“Are we really allowed to go the barn?” I asked Courtney. She didn’t seem like a liar, but those were the best kinds of liars.

“Yeah, of course we are,” Courtney giggled and said she always brought her grandma some oatmeal in the morning. “This is Apple Cinnamon with raisins. We have enough for your mother and aunt if you want to share,” she said.

“Nah,” I answered at the same time as Jessie. He also said no.

Courtney seemed shocked that we’d refuse the offer but didn’t press the issue.

The barn is exactly what you might imagine. Faded red paint, well-worn boards, the smell of hay. It was set up like a stable with stalls. There were approximately eight men and women in the stalls. Some of them were chained, and others were standing. A few were sitting on the hay.

Most of them had visitors who were feeding them. Uncle Evil was there and he greeted me when we showed up.

“You look like three shades of ugly in the morning without your makeup,” he grinned.

“Well, you look like five shades of ugly all of the time,” I counted with a wry grin.

“Touche,” Uncle Evil smirked. “Enjoy your next twenty-four hours,” he said menacingly.

I asked him what he meant by that.

“People like to say have a nice day. I like to say enjoy your next twenty fours. It means the same thing, but they wonder if I am planning something,” he snickered. I have to admit he was really starting to grow on me and I actually giggled.