Chapter 38

My sister and I were tasked with breaking down the camping area and getting everything cleaned and loaded into the camper. I didn’t complain or bitch about it – which was something new for me. I politely obeyed my Master and my nephew.

I was certain on some level that Master Jessie really got off on the control and power he had over the rest of us. I was pretty sure that he also thought at some point he was going to push one of us too hard and we’d quit and take all that authority away from him.

I will give you a good example. At one point, I was on all fours scrubbing the floor of the motor home with a washcloth. It’s something I do almost daily now. It is very humiliating because not only am I naked, but I am expected to wiggle and bounce with my legs spread wide and expose myself as I scrub.

“Don’t just move your shoulder, Aunt Amanda, make your tits twirl in a circle while you wash the floor or I’ll tie sponges to your boobs and make you wash the floor that way.”

I’ve done that before when I first started cleaning the motor home and I knew he liked watching Mike making me do that. “Thank you for the reminder, Master Jessie, I’m sorry!” I pleaded and I renewed my vigorous effort to use my entire body to scrub. I wasn’t afraid he’d make me wash the floor with my tits – compared to what I had been through recently, it didn’t really scare me.

I suppose he read into my response that I wasn’t afraid of his threatened consequences that I also wasn’t afraid of him.

“I am sorry, I shouldn’t have called you Aunt Amanda. You aren’t her anymore, are you?”

“It’s quite alright, Master Jessie. You don’t have to ever apologize to me again, and you can call me anything you like now. My pet name is Joy. I am not the same bitch I was when I was Aunt Amanda.”

I got the impression that sometimes Jessie thought I was still his Aunt Amanda and I was just waiting until he did something so cruel to me that it crossed a line so that I could snap out of my training and kick his ass.

I could understand if he felt that way because at times, I didn’t feel like Joy the slave at all. I felt like I was still Amanda and I was just pretending to be obedient. I was envious in some ways of my sister who made her submission seem so effortless.

I also wondered if he was just testing me to see if I would answer to the name Aunt Amanda. He’d been saying it a lot lately. He seldom apologized or even corrected himself though. I still called my daughter Emily and my sister Kim at times too. It was hard making this transition to having a new life and being someone else.

I was probably over-thinking it again.

“If you ever do quit training, are you secretly keeping track of all of the things I’ve made you do to get even with me?”

I had to suppress the urge to smile because I had just thought about Jessie doubting I was really going to obey him for as long as Mike said I had to obey him. He was really turning out to be a good trainer and disciplinarian. It was still hard not to see him as my goofy nephew though and having to serve a teenager was definitely humiliating.

I guess I would have thought my daughter would have shown signs of dominant behavior long before I ever thought Jessie would.

I was hoping that by now he was certain I wouldn’t hold this training against him (or that there was a still a chance in anyone’s mind that I wouldn’t continue with it).

My nephew had literally treated me like a donkey all week without much sympathy. If I was counting all of the times he whipped my ass or rubbed my nose into the mud I would have a pretty long list.

“I am a lying cunt, Sir. I’ve lied to you many times as your Aunt Amanda,” I admitted while I scrubbed the floor so hard I made my ass cheeks clap together for him. “Would you believe me if I told you I wouldn’t extract my revenge?”

I was joking but he took it seriously and backed away. I wanted to explain that I was only teasing, but I left it alone.

Jessie spent most of his time training my daughter that morning. I had lost track of days of the week so I had no idea what day it was. I couldn’t remember how long I’ve been on the road with Mike either. It seemed like months but it was probably only weeks.

Jessie taught my daughter to properly execute the one word commands of Attention, Inspection, Table/crawl, Bunny Rabbit Position/V-position, and squat. He taught her how he expected her to walk, crawl, and answer him. I think Mike was impressed with both of them because they took it seriously and rarely laughed.

It had to be awkward for Emily to serve her cousin. She’s literally grown up right next to him. She put up with his teasing and even seemed to be enthusiastic about learning what he had to teach her. It really surprised me.

People assumed I was a royal bitch and that made me dominant. I suppose I am when no one takes charge. I just think of my daughter as playfully sassy and It was hard to believe she was really interested in learning about submission. I suppose I would know after a few weeks when the ‘honeymoon’ is over whether or not she was just exploring a wild fantasy, or she really wanted to commit to something with Mike.

Master permitted Chastity and I to engage in light conversation with each other while we cleaned and packed up. It would get pretty boring if no one ever spoke like some kind of BDSM monastery. He even played a little background music.

When we were serving as ponies, the expectation was, we do not talk unless spoken to. It ruined the illusion of being a human pony. It never really stopped my sister thought when she got a chance to make a wise-crack or ask a question when trainers were not around.

My sister knows how to speak in the high protocol of “Yes Master” and “No Ma’am” and be polite but she seldom sounds very natural when she does it. It always sounds like play-acting she is doing. I suppose that is the case with me as well. I am not naturally polite.

I am trying to be better at it and incorporate formal speech as my new normal default speech pattern. When I speak to my sister I can be informal – and I tend to talk just like I did before the training ever began.

She told me how the guy who won her at auction last night didn’t make her do all that much. “He kept saying how we had all night, and to go nice and slow. He just wanted me to sit on his dick and ride.”

I told her how lucky she was, but I think she was disappointed. I described how rough Uncle Evil and his wife were with me. My sister listened and smiled. When I told her about how Aunt Evil was proud of being a toilet, she didn’t even flinch or seem even mildly surprised.

“So, his wife is like a human toilet?”

“I suppose so,” I admitted.

“Does her husband press down on her boobs or something to flush her?”

It sounded like a naïve and silly question, but I wouldn’t have put it past Uncle Evil to install a flusher or have it tattooed on his wife. He had that sort of quirky-perverted sense of humor to do something like that.

I didn’t know. “All I know is she said she was training since the 1970s and she ate a bowl of poop for breakfast.”

My sister scrunched her nose in disgust and got very quiet. “Does she make money doing that?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted that as scuzzy as she was – I didn’t think anyone paid anything to do anything with her. “She looked kind of busted.”

“I had a guy offer me twenty bucks to piss into my asshole,” my sister admitted that happened while we were training. “My asshole was like a fountain when he finished. Piss splashed all over him and the hotel bedspread.”

I laughed.

“One thing I don’t understand is that this week we’re supposed to be ponies or whatever and like pull carts and race. Then at times, they made us crawl like dogs and bark. It is confusing.”

“I think they just wanted us to behave like obedient animals to dehumanize us. It’s like when Master Jessie makes you be his stool and he sits on your back and plays drums on your ass.”