Chapter 36

Master inspected me thoroughly to make sure that all I had were scrapes and abrasions from the previous night. He noticed that they had been very rough with me, but he didn’t seem surprised or even sympathetic. I didn’t expect him to be angry about it.

“Good thing they didn’t shave your head when you first got here. You look pretty ridiculous now. We’ll have to get you a wig so you can turn tricks,” was all he said before patting me on the butt when he was finished with me.

I assumed he had no intention of shaving my sister and daughter’s heads to match. Master remained focus on his laptop instead of watching us. He’d look up every now and then and strike us with his crop if we weren’t walking with our shoulders straight, and lifting our legs high.

Jessie returned after about an hour. Pony Doris was naked but not in her standard livery. Barbara’s mother-in-law had been connected to her wooden sulky for pretty much the entire week.

I doubted she had even been permitted inside the camper all week. She walked my nephew to her door, and French kissed him before he left. “You come see me again,” the dirty old woman smiled and waved him off.

Jessie was in heaven. He looked so on top of the world. I was actually proud of him. He was finally getting pussy on his own. Doris looked a lot like my mom though, and that creeped me out.

I wondered if Jessie realized how much of a resemblance she had to his grandmother. Then again, he had been fucking Kim, and that didn’t seem to bother him that much any longer.

Mike had Jessie rinse us off with a garden hose. He washed my daughter the same way. She had to do everything with us – even crap and piss outside. That was really shocking. I thought she’d bitch but she stuck her dainty little ass over a hole we dug with our hands and squeezed out a tiny little turd.

The smell turned my stomach and reminded of the awful breakfast I had. The good news was that Jessie let us eat some plain oatmeal with actual food in it. The campground provided a breakfast buffet but it wasn’t for slaves and submissives.

We received true left-overs; bacon gristle and bits of stale biscuits crumbled into a stainless steel bowl, with some water. Jessie liked to make my sister and I share a bowl. He loved to watch us bump heads and compete to lap up the edible bits first.

This morning he put down three small bowls and let us eat off the ground together, lined up in a row with our asses facing the road so that anyone walking past could admire our big butts. Buttercup had a difficult time eating without the use of her hands. She didn’t want to dunk her head down in the bowl and get messy.

“If you want to submit, you’ll learn to appreciate what you are given and eat like a dog,” Mike put his foot on the back of her head and pushed it down into the muck.

My daughter usually left at least a third of her food in her bowl. That was before she gave up her freedom. That was fine with Chastity and I because it meant more left-overs. Mike told her whatever she didn’t finish would be lunch – but it would be left out in the sun.

To her credit, my daughter did her best to clean the bowl. We were given our normal enema (outside). Jessie likes to put our toothbrushes (with toothpaste) on the ground and make us crawl over it. Then he gives us the order to “Brush” but we aren’t allowed to pick up the brush. We have to basically wiggle and move our heads instead of the brush.

Chastity thinks it’s hilarious and usually laughs so hard that she falls on her huge tits and doubles over with giggles.

Once we were relatively clean (I’ll never be REALLY clean), and Mike was satisfied, he inspected us out on the lawn. Mike stuck one finger in my daughter’s pee-hole, but her pussy was so tightly locked down he had to wriggle it in there. He also stuck a single finger up her asshole. He inspected her pretty much the way he inspected us besides those two accommodations – completely and thoroughly.

The girl and boy that had left the RV earlier returned. I assumed perhaps they had been told to go take a walk while Uncle Evil put their mother through her paces. The blonde girl seemed particularly pleased to see my daughter standing in Inspection position with us.

“What do you want to be today? Emily or Buttercup?” Mike got in my daughter’s face.

“Buttercup, Master.”

“You don’t seem like it. You seem like you want to play with Courtney,” he pointed at the blonde girl. Courtney headed for her door so she wouldn’t be a distraction and looked apologetic.

“No, Sir. Sorry Sir. I couldn’t help looking at her, Sir.”

Mike twisted one of the clips on my daughter’s nipples and turned a screw that squished it. She hissed and seethed a little, hopping on one foot as if to assuage the pain.

“That’s just the first setting. I can turn that knob two more times. Did that hurt?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Do you think you can handle the fact that I won’t be releasing this clamp until after lunch? If the constant feeling of a little bite on your precious little tit is going to make you freak out, you need to tell me now.”

“I am not freaking out, Master,” Emily assured him. I was not so sure I believed her. I’ve seen that look before. I knew that pain. Her tits were throbbing, and she was probably caught between the shock that someone would dare treat her nipples like meat to be tenderized, and the physical stimulation caused by the endorphins.

“SQUAT!” he commanded when he was done talking to her. We squatted where we stood on the lawn. If we had been in a vanilla neighborhood, our neighbors would have thought we were three crazy sluts, exposing themselves like this.

We were some of the last campers at the camp ground though.

“New Rules,” Master announced.

“There are now three whores in this camper. That means we have to make some adjustments and allowances. The first is that I am no longer keeping track of points. It would have been easy with one, difficult with two, but impossible with three.”

I had almost forgotten about the point system. Master had created it as a system to ensure that I earned my keep through service and not just prostitution. I had to meet a certain amount of points every week or else face consequences. My sister and I weren’t in a competition over the points, but it would also be a way to rank which one of us was trying harder than the other.

That was quite a motivator for me.

This week we were at the campground we were exempted, because my sister and I had been pretty much full-time ponies.

“Instead, I will give each of you a dollar amount as a target when you go out walking the streets. If you come home with more, that’s good, if you come home with less that is your ass.”

He seemed to include my daughter in these new rules. I didn’t want her to be a whore like me. I didn’t mind her dabbling in discipline. It was probably good for her on some level. If I had started at her age, I might not need such an extreme course correction. Once she sold her pussy for money though – there was no undoing what she was. She would be a whore for money.

I bit my lip, though. I had given up parental authority, and this was no time to throw a little tantrum. Mike noticed I was ansy and told me he’d give us a chance to complain, question or beg when he finished.

“At the end of the week, you will each be rated. Master Jessie, myself and possibly my wife will decide how you performed,” he told us there were four possible outcomes. He indicated that this was based on attitude, and willingness to serve as opposed to specific actions.

“If Buttercup is told she has to do a hundred jumping jacks, and fat-ass Chastity only has to do fifty, I am going to judge whether you followed YOUR instructions, with a positive attitude, and met YOUR goals,” he looked each of us in the eyes as he walked past.

The four levels of status were
Good Girl
Well Behaved Slut
Piggy
Lazy Bitch

Mike said he would explain each one of the statuses, but that over the next four or five days we would experience each status for our own education. He said he would assign a new status every week after evaluating our performance and it would generally last all week. “I could at any time decide to demote or promote you to a status, and you’ll finish that week that way. As an example, if you are a Well-Behaved Slut but you sneak out one night and piss me off, I could designate you as a lazy Bitch.”

Mike told us every week we’d get a chance to start fresh. “Just because you are a lazy bitch one week, doesn’t mean you can’t be a good girl the next week. You have to show me you want to serve – I am not interested in twisting your arms. I’ll motivate you, I’ll beat you, I’ll slap you, I’ll use whatever tools I have at my disposal, but unless you invest in what I have to teach you then you are wasting everyone’s time.”

Master looked right at my daughter as if he were speaking to her, but he was talking to all three of us. Jessie was watching from the sidelines with a big grimace on his face.

“Good Girl is what you want to be. You will have not only met all of your obligations, but you will have exceeded my expectations. You will not have broken very many rules that week, and you will be a model slave to the other girls. You will be permitted time to masturbate, access to toilet paper, even a smoke every now and then. You will get at least one HUMAN meal a week – but you will stand at the table and eat with your hands. You will most likely be bound when you sleep, but you most likely won’t be caged.”

“Well behaved Slut, is what you are right now. You’ve done the bare minimum to please me. You’ve met your goals, you’ve done so with a pleasing attitude, you’ve probably been naughty but not in any significant ways. Well Behaved Sluts don’t try to get pleasure that they do not deserve – eating will be a chore, and masturbation for your own pleasure is something you can fantasize about but never do. You will eat scraps, and most likely be caged and bound at night.”

He let it sink in that as a Good Girl – we’d be pretty much in the state we were in now.

“Piggy, is a lazy, self-centered whore that isn’t meeting her financial goals at least twice in one week, she’s been naughty, she’s been sour-faced,” Mike stopped and wagged his finger at us “Fake smiles and sarcasm won’t cut it either.”

“A Piggy is doing the bare minimum to stay in my good graces. She will crawl in the house at all times with rare exceptions, and basically live as a dog in the house. She’ll eat off the floor and if she is lucky, she may get some semi-ripe fruit. We’ll tease, torment and torture the piggy. Most of all, I expect the Piggy to speak in grunts, oinks, and barks. If I LET you speak like a person, it will only be when you walk the street or on rare occasions. Piggy’s will have even less clothing in public places, and I’ll be writing Piggy on your body to remind you of what you are. When anyone sees it, you’ll tell them you have misbehaved and are a pig.”

“Lazy bitches have stopped trying, they are misbehaved and disrespectful. Everyday will be a holiday for you. I’ll stop sending you out on your own to turn tricks. Instead, I’ll likely bury you in the backyard up to your neck, or hang you upside down. I’ll tolerate at most two weeks in a row as a lazy bitch, and then that’s it.”

Mike made it clear that he’d send us packing if we became lazy bitches. “I’d try to get to the bottom of what has caused you to stop trying, but I am not going to invest in someone who doesn’t want to be trained. If you think this is a rip-cord you can pull anytime you tire of being bossed around, I’ve got some other news for you.”

Mike laid out the financial plan for us. My daughter will still get a portion of my earnings. She would have to deposit it in a bank, and when she was ready to move out, she would have access to it for buying a car, house, or going to college. He said she’d also get to keep a portion of her earnings.

I was concerned Buttercup would have to be a prostitute, but I didn’t say anything. It wasn’t just a vocation to make money. Mike felt that the act of selling your ass for money was cathartic and part of the process of humbling me. It definitely was. I felt like a sex-beast whose primary purpose was being used for the pleasure of others and traded for money.

I used to be confident I could handle whatever anyone threw at me. Big dicks, whips, chains, and fetishes didn’t scare me that much until Uncle Evil. I guess I had a pretty limited imagination or simply over-estimated my ability to absorb pain and humiliation.

Jessie and Kim would get their earnings as well after two years. Jessie would be permitted an allowance every week since he was performing a service as a Master. He’d have to make sure we were fed, bathed, and behaved around the house as part of his job to get that allowance.

50% of your earnings as Good Girls and Whores would go in the bank. Jessie’s allowance would be split between me and Kim since Jessie would be training me too.

25% of your earnings as a Piggy would go to in the bank – you are more trouble than you are worth at that point. You’ll be a drain on my time and resources – so you pay a penalty.

0% of your earnings as a Lazy Bitch would go in the bank, and if you are given the boot you collect nothing. You only get your savings after two years or more of service. That went for my daughter and Kim. I was his forever. Mike pointed out that if he did release me, he’d send me packing with the clothes on my back and not much else.

My sister’s eyes glazed over halfway through. I assumed she’d be a good bitch or a total whore and she wouldn’t have to worry about it anyway.

“Now, I have decided to diversify your asses. You two will be full-service whores and most of your income will come from that. Fetish and straight fucking for money. “I’ve decided that Ten dollars for a blowjob, Twenty dollars for straight sex, and fifty dollars for an hour doing whatever is way too much for your cunts. I’d rather you do volume. The most you can charge Is twenty dollars for a half-hour of doing whatever. The least you can charge is five dollars for a blowjob and hand-jobs are free – but I want you to try to convince them to let you suck their dick for five dollars.”

“Won’t we make less money, Master?” Chastity asked.

“You’ll just have to suck more dicks. If you hustle, you can still earn two hundred a night,” he told her.

“How much is that a week, Sir?” my sister didn’t even attempt the math.

Jessie told her it was a thousand dollars a week.

“Okay,” Chastity nodded in agreement.

“I am going to send you out with my wife Wendy to clean houses during the day, and mow lawns. She’ll be in charge of you, and naturally, you will offer sex to your customers. On weekends, Buttercup will work with you.”

I curled up my lip in disappointment. I had truly failed as a mother and that was the moment I realized it. Not only had I turned my daughter into a little mini-me, but she felt she needed extreme discipline to approach being a relatively nice person. She would become a whore just like me and I shuddered at the thought once she began discipline – she may need it for the rest of her life.

“Now, let’s talk about Buttercup,” Mike told her to stand up. “You are no longer Emily. At school, you will answer to Buttercup or Emily, but that’s the only time I want to hear that name. Emily is a sassy, pretentious bitch that thinks she knows it all. Buttercup is a chance to start fresh. That’s what you want?”