Chapter 18

After the kids were on their way to school and I was talking with Kendrick, I realized I had no idea what time Kristina ate lunch. I asked Kendrick what I should do about calling Kristina and he’d told me to send her a text then asked what I’d do without him.

We continued the conversation with me eventually apologizing for ‘making’ him sleep alone again Saturday night and that had led to a discussion about the way he’d casually problem-solved, the Kendrick way, after I’d slept in Jessica’s bed Friday night.

I admitted how my first thought had been, ‘Nooooo! I hadn’t meant I wanted to sleep tied up! I’d meant I wasn’t going to have my husband sleep with my daughter again!’

Remember, she’d shared MY bed with MY husband; her FATHER. I started to get angry at him for misunderstanding what I’d said and the dam of suppressed emotions and pent up fears burst within me. I really got going, but he held up his hand to stop me just as I was getting onto a roll.

“Don’t you shush me!” I stormed. I should have watched my tone with my husband. I’d started talking as if we were still equals but after that meeting with the kids, we were not and even in my agitated state, I knew it. We both knew it. I was standing flat-footed with my tits hanging out in my kitchen and he was fully dressed. He had all the authority and the moral high ground as well.

“Shut the hell up, Drip!” He snarled back. He could have laughed at me as if I was acting like a petulant child. It was certainly like he wasn’t the least bit afraid of upsetting me anymore. Instead he’d gone the anger route himself too.

I immediately shut up. Kendrick was acting scary.

“I told everyone last night that this new arrangement would last three weeks. If you want to call it quits now, you can do that, but then you’ll spend a week as Jessica’s toy before you take your place as my FAITHFUL wife again! Three weeks, Drip. Even if you get off your fucking high horse and admit what a selfish cunt you’ve been and beg me to go back to how things were, I doubt Fartbox will want to forego her week of having her own personal slave to boss around. Danny told me what he has in store for her at school today, and she’s going to want someone to get even with, so she’s going to be over the moon when you admit you couldn’t cut it!”

The anger I’d felt washed away in a torrent of doubt. I knew Jessica would absolutely love to hear me admit defeat. I also knew that my daughter would be harsher on me than any combination of Ken, Danny, Christian, and Kristina. She’d accept no limitations to what I would or wouldn’t do.

She’d accepted the consequences talked about the night before and would come up with a hundred others of her own then tirelessly implement them over that week. Not only would my opportunities to make bets with her forever be terminated, but her respect for me would also wither and die, too. There was no way to ever win again if I admitted defeat to Jess.

“I’m sorry, Sir. But I was just_” Ken cut me off before I could make any more excuses for myself.

“Are you committed or welshing on our deal, Drip?” He asked. He didn’t want to hear my excuses.

“I just want you to understand_” Again he cut me off.

“Just a simple yes or no will suffice this time, Drip!” Ken was still looking at me as if staring into my soul. He still coldly acted as if I was the lowliest of the low. It really hurt, knowing my husband was angry with me.

I was silent for a full thirty seconds. Kendrick allowed me to really think about it. Somehow he knew I wasn’t ignoring his question like I would usually do when I didn’t want to answer, but was instead pondering the ramifications of a single word.

If I said no, I could be released from my obligations after a week of service to Jessica. If I said yes, it’d be three weeks, but I could return to making bets on my own terms. Unless Jessica got home from school and begged ME to call this game quits. Then I’d not only win my bet with my daughter, I could call her my slave even if I refused to see the three weeks doing what Ken and the children wanted, to its conclusion.

Was it really so bad being tied up any time Ken wanted to sleep with Jessica instead of me? I WAS the one who’d said I preferred to feel uncomfortable when not sleeping next to my husband. Was the cost of having the freedom to participate in sex bets against the neighbor, really so high that I couldn’t do the humbling and downright dirty things that had been suggested the night before? Could I pretend for three weeks to be happy that my sons would control my body and my youngest daughter control my head? I’d pretty much destroyed any credibility I had with my children already, anyway.

“Yes, Sir.” I finally replied.

“I’ve changed my mind. I need more. I was planning on going over to see Jane today, and I don’t want to embarrass myself by having you threaten to chicken out again. Tell me what you’re saying yes to,” Kendrick insisted.

I can’t say exactly why I said it like I did, but it was like I was speaking for another entity when I replied, “Yes, Drip will see this through for the whole three weeks. She can’t promise not to not get angry or rebellious, but Drip will try to be a good slut for the next three weeks, and she thanks you for understanding, Sir. Would you please punish her and show her you still love her?” I assured my husband while asking for a correction.

I didn’t even cringe at the word ‘slut’, since I was talking about someone else, and part of me actually WANTED a punishment. I was Carrie. I was talking about Drip, a life support system for three sex holes who needed to be put firmly in her place.

“Will Drip bend over and offer her ass for a spanking then tell me how much she looks forward to Christian playing with her cunt and ass when he gets home from school?” Ken asked, running with the third person approach to this conversation that had taken a turn for the weird. Still, it wasn’t lost on me that thoughts of saving Christian from being gay were still in the forefront of my husband’s mind.

I immediately assumed the position. “You don’t have to limit yourself to her ass, Sir. Slapping Drip’s tits would hurt more,” I suggested, imagining myself swatting Jessica’s breasts as a form of punishment. I was feeling completely disconnected from the stupid whore who’d upset my husband and I wanted her to really feel his wrath. To atone for her selfish behavior.

I’ve already said that pain does nothing for me. I hope I explained clearly enough how much I’d hated feeling that damned spatula. Just because I don’t enjoy it, doesn’t mean I hadn’t been made aware of the benefits of pain as a motivator. The only thing I should add is that I was suggesting a dumb, cock sucking whore was asking for it, not me. If ever there was a phase two moment, that had been it. A specific moment in time when Carrie separated herself from the wanton slut, for the moment known as Drip.

Drip was getting off on this shameful scenario. Waiting bent over for Kendrick to decide if he was going to spank her ass or her hanging udders, Drip was living her name. Her cunt was already a sticky, slimy, drippy mess. One that could take any cock without preparation. Ken could easily have slipped four otherwise unlubricated fingers into that gash without resistance.

“Stay,” Kendrick said and left ‘us’ there, bent over, me feeling like Drip deserved everything she got and more, Drip feeling bad for making Kendrick angry and desperately wanting to put him in a good mood again. It felt like an hour, but I know it was only a few minutes that Ken was gone. I didn’t move, but it was really Drip in control of my body and she had NO intention of moving.

The idea that I was two people inside one body was rudely interrupted when my single ass-cheek was assaulted by a leather paddle. I jumped a mile! Well, not really, but I definitely did not stay bent over. I jumped, straightened, and turned all in one karate-like move that was not at all as graceful as portrayed on TV. I nearly fell on my sore butt.

“Where’d you get that!” I demanded before I could help myself. I shouldn’t have been so confrontational but the slap really shocked me. I am sure I sounded annoyed – but I had just signed up for this treatment and should have watched my tone.

“It was in the box I bought you, along with the note instructing you to remove anything that represented a hard limit for you. Jessica seemed pretty interested in it when I had her get the lube out last night. I think she’s looking forward to feeling it connect with her tush too. You, on the other hand, couldn’t even express gratitude for my efforts, but we’ll address that soon.”

I had totally forgotten about the box, what with the roller coaster ride the weekend had been.

Jessica had been in the box and had seen the paddle? Because I’d totally forgotten about the box, I hadn’t spared a single thought to what could have been in it.

“I never even got to open it!” I whined, still rubbing my butt. That paddle had smarted, although it’d been the surprise more than anything that’d made me jump.

“That just says you didn’t care enough to open it, so I choose to believe the gear I bought you is all acceptable for use. Even the nipple clamps and handcuffs,” he said in a way that brooked no further argument.

What could I say to that? He’d told me it was there and to look at the stuff he’d brought home. He’d seen me leave the room to go find it. It wasn’t fair, and I wanted another chance to veto anything I didn’t want him to use on me, but all I got for my complaining was a promise to use the paddle on my butt AND boobs. I’m not stupid. I stopped arguing before he promised to use the paddle on my pussy too. His mood hadn’t really improved much.

“At least please promise not to hit that hard again, Sir?” I begged, feeling foolish for having to beg my own husband not to spank me too hard.

“What happened to you referring to yourself in the third person? I quite liked that. Either way, it’s time for you to step up or get off the can. We’re way past you setting limits now, bitch, but if you ask nicely, I’ll listen to you beg to be secured so you don’t make such a fool of yourself again,” he offered as if he was doing me a huge favor.

He’d given me a choice. MY choice would have been to put these silly games aside and fuck him senseless. I was already WAY past the foreplay stage, as if the scent of my arousal wasn’t proof enough. I had however agreed to play by Kendrick’s rules and those rules had me asking to be punished, for considering calling the deal off. I’d really dug a hole for myself but not the sort of hole I could hide in.

I also knew I couldn’t just relax and absorb the force of him beating me with a paddle without moving. That was lightyears beyond my abilities right then. “Please tie me down, Sir,” I asked in a tiny, submissive voice. I would not only have to trust Kendrick to know how far he could go but also trust that he really did love me enough to believe he was doing this because he loved me so much.

I really did listen to myself. I was trusting my husband to beat me because he loves me. I had never before considered IMAGINING that much less consciously THINKING it. Yet I did, and I knew I could trust him. Otherwise, I would never have started this. It was myself I couldn’t trust. I had to learn that too. I got back into position and this time Kendrick waited while I tried to mentally prepare myself for what was to come. I was sure he was going to hit me just as hard the second time, but I didn’t try to beg him again not to be so rough, nor did I beg again to be tied.

My preparation was all internal. I knew it was going to burn, but I wanted to show him I could take whatever he dealt me and I told myself over and over he was doing this for me, and I just had to suck it up and accept it. I was so wrong about everything. The second spank was worse than the first! I had tried so hard too. I felt ashamed at myself for jerking forward and falling to my knees, a scream forcing itself out of me.

While my bottom felt like it had been set on fire, I later saw it in a mirror, and it was merely a little pink, and that was way after I’d tearfully begged to be tied down for the rest of my correction. Ken smacked my tits, too, although I was sure he held back a lot more with them. That doesn’t mean it hurt much less, but I was grateful anyway. He then made me stand in the corner.

There was no one watching me, no one laughing at me, in fact no one even there except me and the wall. Ken had told me to stand there until he released me from my punishment. I had absolutely no will to move and upset him again. He left me standing alone in a corner by myself for half an hour. I heard the house phone ring and I even ignored that.

When Ken returned and eventually told me to suck his dick, there was no hesitation, no second-guessing what he really wanted, just an overwhelming desire to do as I was told. I didn’t even make a face when I swallowed his baby-makers. My punishment had, in its way, been very effective. I can say I’m glad he did it like that, that first time. I mean once he’d finished spanking my butt and my boobs, I was a blubbering mess.

The old Ken would have been beside himself with guilt at what he’d caused. The new Ken put me in the corner telling me that if I had acted like that in front of the kids, I would have ruined any chance I had at being accepted as a Hot Wife by them. It took the whole half hour to reconcile his words. I realized that the children would have most likely reacted in the same way as I just described expecting ‘old’ Kendrick to react - my children being left feeling guilty for making me cry.

While I stood in the corner, I resolved to do two things. I would never again give Kendrick or the children cause to think I was going to quit before the three weeks were up, and second, I would be a whole lot better at doing what was expected of me. I even planned to encourage my children to be more hands-on with me when they got home. One punishment had been all it took to teach me that. I just hoped Kendrick would allow me to have some one-on-one time with the children so I could really get a feel for how this was affecting them.

When Kendrick returned to release me from my punishment, he brought with him another of the items from the box of ‘gifts’. It was a lightweight set of what I can only describe as manacles for my wrists and ankles, with chains connecting them all together.

I thought slave chains were always chains like truck drivers used to tie down their loads. What I mean is that I’m not completely innocent. I’d seen such things online - where supposed sex slaves are kept chained in thick steel manacles with fifty pounds of chain connecting everything. These chains and leather manacles weighed maybe five pounds and probably a lot less than that. Once they were on, I tried to tell Kendrick that he’d been sold the wrong size because I couldn’t stand up straight.

“You don’t NEED to stand up straight, Drip. As the lowliest person in the family, you should be looking up at the smallest of the kids, so I asked them to sell me a set that only allowed four feet of stretch between your collar and ankle restraints. If you crawl, you’ll find they work fine.

“So I have to wear these at all times?” I asked, proud of my voice for not completely showing my distress.

“No! Don’t be silly. Every day, yes. But not all the time. How am I supposed to look at you while I’m fucking you? Those chains would get in the way. But they ARE designed for everyday use. You won’t be able to break them under normal circumstances, but it can be done. They only have an eighty pound test,” he assured me. He then had to explain that meant if I exerted more than eighty pounds on the chains, a link would fail. Like I can even LIFT eighty pounds! They may as well have had a thousand pound test.

Kendrick set me to doing my chores and returned to his office upstairs.

I spent a little time masturbating during the day with very minimal supervision or direction from my husband. He told me to kneel with my hands behind my head. I had long periods of time to just think about what I was doing and if it was selfish of me to do it in front of my kids. Thoughts about going too far in front of them raced through my mind but if I had, then I had already done that and there was no going back now and erasing what they’d seen me do. Everyone seemed on board with it now anyway.

Over the course of the day, Kendrick tied me up every now and then but that too was pretty minimal. He didn’t want me to choke or strangle if he made it too tight and left me that way and he only left me for up to half an hour. I told him that was thoughtful and actually thanked him for leaving me tied up and naked around the house.

I wanted to ask him what I should do if we got a visitor. Jane might laugh but what if my mom visited unexpectedly or a different neighbor? I think I was afraid of what his answer might be if I asked.

At lunchtime I took Ken his lunch and reminded him that Kristina had asked me to call her. He gave me fifteen minutes. I called Kristina and she moved the call to a video chat so she could include Julie. They were in some quiet room, and they assured me they wouldn’t be disturbed.

It was an embarrassing call. Kristina asked me to go into the backyard, and she first had me pan the camera around three hundred sixty degrees to show I was alone and her dad wasn’t hovering outside camera range. By that time, I had to remind her I only had another ten minutes. So they got straight to the point of the call. The two of them started to interrogate me. Well, that’s what it felt like, anyway.

Kristina wanted assurances that everything I was doing was of my own free will. When I assured her it was, I saw Julie lightly punch my daughter’s shoulder as if gloating that she’d been right. Kristina once again reminded me that I’d put her in charge of my head which included my thoughts then they tried to determine my limitations by asking embarrassing sex questions. I didn’t bother trying to correct her and tell her it had been her father who’d actually put her in charge of my head. Doing so would only have undermined Kendrick’s ultimate authority.

What I did have to admit to was that I hadn’t actually ever cheated on Ken and had sex with another man. She’d been under the misapprehension that Ken had caught me cheating and was getting revenge. Breaking the news to Kristina and a friend of hers I hardly knew that it really had been my idea to approach him about doing sex bets, upset Kristina.

I was glad in a way that Julie was with her. She looked like she was about to cry at one point and it was Julie that suggested a bunch of benefits to having a slut for a mom. Even being on the other end of a video chat, I began to feel like I was being ignored while they talked between themselves - about me.

What I meant about being glad Julie was there, was that if Julie hadn’t been so supportive of me, things could have turned out very differently. Her friend was doing as much as me - maybe more - to convince Kristina to throw away the social acceptance rulebook and imagine me as a living sex toy. Kristina admitted to her friend on our live video chat that she’d made me kiss my daughter on the lips that morning. All I could do was blush and confirm I’d done it.

“Would you kiss me or Kristina if we told you to?” Julie asked bluntly.

I then had to admit Kristina and I had kissed that morning too, and Julie squealed in delight at Kristina, telling her how brave she’d been to do that. Neither of us felt the need to add that it was a chaste kiss on the lips; me because I didn’t want to minimize my daughter’s ‘big’ thing and Kristina, because she positively glowed at Julie’s praise.

“Would you kiss my cunny if I came over after school too?” she asked, but that time it was Kristina who punched her friend’s shoulder. Not nearly so gently either.

I could see jealousy there. I didn’t know if it meant that Kristina and Julie had already experimented or if Kristina just thought the idea was gross. I didn’t find out. My time was up. Kristina made me promise we’d pick up the conversation after school and we disconnected. At that point, I thought about Jessica. Kristina could have told me how her day was going, but I hadn’t thought to ask. I felt bad about that.