Chapter 12

My family didn’t seem to have any clue about what had happened outside between Jessica and her father. She made googly-eyes at him during dinner and flirted a little. I caught them playing footsie under the table once. I wondered if Jessica took this seriously at all or if Kendrick still wanted to go through with what he had decided outside.

I felt like it was all the calm before the storm. Everything seemed normal – as normal can be with a naked woman in the kitchen.

I was standing in the nude as I’d done during breakfast. The original consequence had been to wait on the family like a waitress at the table while they ate breakfast. I had to be nude and now I almost always wore a butt plug to the table in the morning. I had been doing it for so long that it seemed almost natural that I was doing it at dinnertime now too.

I felt like it was appropriate given the severe dressing down Kendrick had just given me. He didn’t say I should stop and sit down with the rest of the family. I couldn’t anyway with a butt plug extending between my clasped butt cheeks.

As had become usual, there were always stifled giggles when one of my kids told me to bring them a glass of water or a fresh napkin because they’d ‘dropped’ theirs - code for holding their hand out away from the table and letting their napkin fall out of their outstretched hand. I knew they were just having fun teasing me, and none of them were being malicious about it.

They were simply looking for the limits to what they could get away with before their father or I would put a stop to it. Well, to be fair, I don’t think they expected me to call them on their shenanigans or I would have already - so I should have just said, before their father would put a stop to the games they were playing with my time. Anyway, he didn’t.

To be brutally honest, I’d have probably done exactly the same thing if it’d been Jessica who had been the one to lose the bet and had been the one in my position. They could have done much worse but it never occurred to them at the time. Knocking a glass of water over or waiting while I bent to pick up a dropped napkin only to drop another, would have been something I’d have done to wind Jessica up, but my children never considered that because they were raised to not be malicious. I wondered how I would have reacted if they’d been that intent on making me angry.

As it was, I ignored their giggles rather than get frazzled because I was hyper-focused on what my husband wanted me to tell my family at dinner the next day. Given options, I might have cried if they’d deliberately spilled water but I would immediately have cleaned up the mess and replaced their water, just as I had picked up no less than a full half-dozen dropped napkins.

I doubt that I would have become angry with whoever might have knocked over a glass of water because such a small portion of my mind was needed to act as waitress and they weren’t really too intent on testing my patience. What kept me calm was devoting myself to wondering what was in store for me. For us, if Jessica joined me. I didn’t know exactly what he expected from me, and it was driving me crazy wondering about it, so no, my children’s demands were, if anything, helpful. They kept me too busy to fret too much.

I felt so guilty about the bet I made with Jessica. I wanted to apologize to Ken over and over and promise I’d never do sex bets again. I didn’t feel that was an option now though. In retrospect, if I had asked, begged and pleaded to stop here, my life may have gone quite differently.

After dinner, I did get a chance to talk to Jessica one on one in private. I put my clothes back on but left the plug that Chris had chosen for me, up my ass.

“Why’d you bother putting on clothes, mom? Just trying to get some use out of those outfits before you become dad’s naked sex slave?” She was teasing me.

“I am not going to be his sex slave, Jessica!” I insisted through clenched teeth.

“Are you going to do whatever Dad tells you?” she asked.

“I already do what he asks,” I admitted. I’d always had a lot of latitude to do whatever I wanted when I wanted, although I had never openly defied Kendrick in all the years of our wonderful marriage.

“Are you really going to stop wearing clothes if he tells you to?” She asked the question with a wry expression. I was already naked most of the time anyway but this would be clothing restriction – 24/7 at home.

“I think you know the answer to that,” I replied to my daughter.

I have often been criticized for being avoidant about questions. It was just how I was raised. My mother always beat around the bush rather than just coming right out and asking a question, and she almost never gave a clear answer. I don’t know if it was nurture or nature, but I was wired the same way. I know it drives some people crazy, but it was just how I am. I could have just said yes or no, but I didn’t have to admit anything if I didn’t answer in a straightforward way.

“I hate to break it to you, Mom, but I think that makes you his sex slave,” My daughter was less than half-teasing me by this point.

I didn’t argue with her, but I didn’t agree either. I knew she was joking with me and the casual way she accepted the changes Kendrick had proposed for me, made it a little easier for me to accept them too. It also hadn’t quite hit me yet, what Kendrick’s real expectations were going to be. I might not have truly understood them, and I told her that.

“He said you’d be doing things that would make Jane and her daughter blush, Mom. I think you and I both know that bitch won’t blush,” she mused.

I agreed with her and shared the story that Jane had told me when we’d first met. It was the day I was tied up in the backyard. She’d casually told me her son had caught her masturbating with a banana and she had kept doing it even after he’d walked in on her.

“Was it peeled or unpeeled?” Jessica asked enthusiastically.

“I don’t know,” I admitted I’d never thought to ask. Who would? Well other than Jessica, that is. At the time, it seemed so over the top impossible that I doubted she had really done it at all. I had never shared the story with Jessica before, because I’d been too embarrassed to talk about it., yet it had been in the back of my mind as one of the nastiest things a mother could do around her own son. I had not yet crossed that particular line - although I had come very close. It had been Jane’s story about the banana that had colored my decision to let Chris play with my butt and insert the plug, even if I didn’t want to admit it.

If my neighbor Jane would or could do it – then I told myself it meant I wasn’t the nastiest mother in the world.

“If it was unpeeled, I bet she froze it first – otherwise it would get all mushy,” Jessica theorized. She didn’t seem at all unnerved that a boy Christian’s age had watched his mother masturbate with a banana in her vagina.

“So, what are you going to do tomorrow?” I changed the subject. I knew Jessica understood my question even though I hadn’t been very specific. Her father’s proposal that she be a Hot Daughter was on her mind as well.

“I haven’t decided yet.” Jessica shrugged, acting like it was not that big of a deal and it was perfectly normal for a father to discuss these options with his teenage daughter. “What would you bet against me telling everyone I am now a Hot Daughter?”

I reminded Jessica that betting is exactly what got me into my situation and that Kendrick’s mandate had been very explicit – any bets would be going through him and not me.

“Yeah, but you can’t ask permission until you can say what the bet is and that means deciding on it first. Anyway ... how serious do you think he really is? I mean what is he going to do if you make an official bet with me? Spank your ass? You’d probably like that,” Jessica smiled at me with a horny expression on her face – like she was hungry for a spanking herself.

“Your dad was serious, Jess and if you agree to this and immediately disobey him or change the rules, I think it’s going to be really awkward,” I warned her.

“It’s already awkward, mom,” Jessica giggled. She wasn’t wrong about that.

We talked a little more about what might happen and what her father might want us to do. I had insider knowledge. I could have shared my post-coital conversation with Ken where he’d admitted things he wanted to see me do and how much he enjoyed seeing me embarrassed, but I held back. I didn’t want to cause Ken embarrassment by letting Jessica in on his secrets. Anyway, those admissions could have been made simply to shock me rather than provide an idea of what Kendrick really had planned. That’s how I justified my silence on the matter.

So in the end, neither of us committed to a decision. Well Jessica didn’t. I didn’t have a decision to make. It was being made for me. I WAS tempted to make a bet with my daughter, but I resisted the urge. My life was getting complicated enough as it was. I left it at assuring her that I loved her and that I didn’t want her to make any rash decisions.

“Anything you can do, I can do,” she assured me. I know she wanted to add the word, ‘better’ but had held back. She was obviously very seriously considering accepting this arrangement with her father.

I didn’t want to influence her in either direction. For one thing, she’s my daughter. I could hardly encourage her to be Kendrick’s Hot Daughter but neither did I want to encourage her to throw me under the bus alone so I kept my comments neutral.

“That doesn’t mean that you SHOULD do half the things I do,” I winked at her as I got ready to end the conversation. I reminded her that she had the largest bedroom in the house other than mine, and she probably didn’t want to give up that privacy.

“Hah, I’d skin Kristina alive if she tried to lay claim to my palatial bedroom! But hey, maybe dad will buy us a big dog cage, and you and I can sleep together in there,” she chuckled that her room could be converted to a sex-dungeon. My daughter has a dirty mind and a wild imagination. Kendrick would NEVER agree to something so far fetched. Still, the image was intriguing.

I certainly hoped she was joking. Of course she didn’t know how much Kendrick hated the thought of sleeping alone. He’d never agree to a dog cage. Of that there was no doubt in my mind.

Don’t get me wrong. I really did feel better about things after talking with Jessica. Okay, it was a surreal conversation, and I didn’t know how much of this was just talk from Jessica and how much of it she was serious about. I had underestimated her before. She had proved me wrong enough for me to show some restraint, though.

I warned her that if she did agree to do this with me that if she later changed her mind, that her father would not stand for it. “You have a tendency to get bored quickly. Your dad won’t change his plans just because you tell him you’re bored with the game.”

“Yeah, but I have to admit I am kind of intrigued. Nothing ventured, nothing gained and all that. But sometimes the best seat in the house is in the stands, especially since you already agreed to amuse us. I guess you will know tomorrow at dinner when I stand up with you - or don’t. I can say one thing. I kind of envy you.”

“Why’s that?”

“You already know what you are going to do. I have to decide,” she hopped up and skipped away abruptly having had the last word.

Jessica had given me a lot to think about. I ignored the rest of the family for most of the evening and tried to quiet my own inner thoughts. Kendrick had promised I’d never have to make a decision for myself again and somehow that seemed liberating - the biggest drawcard in a stacked deck. Something to cling to in this crazy new life Ken was promising me - and possibly Jessica too.

Decisions were the bane of my existence because I so frequently made bad ones – and I was often left feeling guilty about the choices I’d made. I wondered, if I agreed to what Kendrick had in mind for me, would there ever be any way of going back to a ‘normal’ life afterwards?

I had already had an orgasm in the living room in front of my entire family and I think they all knew that I had – was there any way of going back to normal after that?

Why was I so obsessed with normal anyway? If Kendrick and the rest of my family were happy, wasn’t that the most important thing? I had more questions than I had answers.

I didn’t focus on wondering about the details of what Kendrick really expected from me either. I already had the high points. For example, I knew he wanted me to have sex with strangers and probably teach Chris about the birds and bees first hand – to steer him away from being gay.

Despite what society would have said, I thought tutoring my son in the joys of sex was a noble gesture. I chose not to consider why the thought had never occurred to me independently before because I already knew the answer. Normal moms would never consider doing such things with their sons. Yet I was.

I wondered if sex with his mother might send him straight in the opposite direction? I really did believe Chris knew a lot of boys who were gay or transgender at school and he had seen it in the media quite a bit. Would having sex with his mother make him feel more like a momma’s boy? Like he was right to only have sexual relations with guys afterwards?

Chris was handsome, clean-cut, well-spoken, polite, spent a lot of time grooming and probably put way more effort into his wardrobe than any other boy his age. He had already become quite the catch. He had also shown zero interest in meeting girls. The writing was on the wall about him. If he WAS gay, I would accept that – but maybe Kendrick was right that he just didn’t know what he was missing out on with girls?

The thing I didn’t know was if I could really be his tutor. Would he even want me to be his sex tutor? And another thing. What else did Kendrick want me to do? Did he really want me to be a sex slave?

Ken had never shown any interest in any hardcore bondage stuff – I’d only seen some of it in my Twitter feed. I know I shouldn’t look at porn, but it was so easy to find porn online.

I’d been so horny lately I found myself reading dirty stories and looking for pictures. Twitter was the easiest way to find something to masturbate to without paying money to subscribe to a website. We have money but I wasn’t about to put myself in a position of having to explain to Kendrick why a charge for some porn site was on our credit card. I only looked occasionally anyway. I had no need for a constant fix of porn. Not when there’s Twitter, anyway.

Then there was the fact that my husband had tied me up before. The feeling of being unable to resist him was pretty exciting but it was just a sex game we had played years ago when we were first married. I suppose we’d stopped because I hadn’t encouraged him to continue and I guess Ken had thought I didn’t find it as stimulating as it’d been for him - when really I’d just been too embarrassed to ask for more.

Tonight, on the porch, I could have badgered Kendrick with endless questions on details, but I felt the less I said about it to him, the better. I wanted to know the answers to what he expected of me without admitting anything of interest to me - basically embarrassing myself in the process.

Ken had alluded to the fact he wasn’t entirely sure yet either. I hoped he didn’t change his mind and let everything slide although I was aware that would be a possible option for him. I did that all the time when I didn’t want to embarrass myself. I couldn’t think of the last time I’d known Kendrick to do that, though.

I suppose if he had a roadmap in his back pocket already well thought out that I would have wondered how much of this he had planned. I had betrayed his trust by putting Jessica up to sucking his cock for one of our crazy bets. I had done so much more though over the last month and I felt sick to my stomach about it all.

Yet, I also knew if he did nothing, that I’d continue to ramp up my bets because I enjoyed them.

Later that night Kendrick did bring up the elephant in the room while we were in bed. It gave me a whole new perspective on things.

“So, what has been going on in your mind, Carrie?” Ken asked me as he was fucking me with the same cock that had been in our daughter’s mouth a few hours earlier.

I had been reluctant to have sex with him, still upset that he’d done that. Our foreplay had been him laying back on the bed with his erection on display and me laying next to him, ignoring it until he told me to suck him. I’d refused, feeling like I was getting my daughter’s leftovers. He had grabbed a fistful of my hair and shoved my head towards his dick, reminding me that it was his job to tell me what dick to suck and my job to do it.

His hand in my hair had hurt me and I tried telling him the bet didn’t work like that. He couldn’t MAKE me suck dick, he could only order it. I hadn’t really thought through the consequences properly. Despite my complaints and whining, he was right. It was to be his JOB to make me suck whatever dick he chose, and he’d chosen his own then done what he thought was necessary to ensure I kept my end of the bargain.

What started as a kind of grudge sex, where I did something I didn’t want to do because I was being forced to, became an amazing sexual experience for me. With a fist full of my hair feeling like it’d be ripped from its roots if I resisted, I felt powerless to stop him forcing my head down to his dick and with a couple of unexpected slaps to the face, he got my mouth open and my lips around his cock. Then he used me like a toy to get him slicked up. I could have bitten his cock but I didn’t want to hurt him. He’s my husband and I usually love his cock. I was just being a bitch.