Chapter 30

“Brian, let’s talk!” Dennis took me back into the living room. He had strung Doris and restricted her breathing. He left his wife bound and hanging like a free-use sex doll. She didn’t look happy or comfortable but she didn’t complain as she struggled and gasped.

She had a noose around her neck, but she was still supported with wooden bars under her arms. The position looked incredibly strenuous to maintain and her stomach quivered as she expended great effort to hold herself up while her feet dangled below her.

Doris’s pussy was dripping down her thigh. She was gagging and struggling for life. Her tongue was sticking out. She was trembling. Tiny drops of her cum or piss dripped off her clitoris and ran down her leg. She wasn’t able to even wipe them away.

He extended wooden slats under her feet that allowed her to catch her breath and take a break. She was still bound.

Then he took me aside and apologized. “You’ve picked up on so much of what we do in the last two days that I just assumed you knew some of the house rules. That was on me. You know what they say when you assume? You make an ass out of YOU and ME!”

He was quoting a line from one of my favorite movies Bad News Bears. It was where the curmudgeonly old coach Morris Buttermaker (played by Walter Matthau). My former little league coach recreated that scene for my team and presented it as if none of us had watched the movie before.

He wrote the words “ASSUME” on a chalkboard and circled “ASS” “U” and “ME” before saying the iconic line “When you assume you make an ass out of you and me.”

“I am sorry, I really just wanted to see the girls play with themselves,” I admitted. I was way too far into this to pretend that I wasn’t a pervert – especially to Dennis.

“I do too, but watch this,” he walked me back over to where Doris was sputtering her last breaths for the dozenth time tonight since he began his session. He unbound Doris’s wrists and she seemed simultaneously relieved to be able to have her mobility back and apprehensive that something else would happen that may be worrisome.

He reset her position. She was in tears, and her heart was pounding. He didn’t give her much time to recover. “Are you a dog?” he asked her twice. He made her howl and bark and beg for a dog bone while she enthusiastically wagged her tongue for him and shook her ass.

“You want this up your ass? Huh? Yeah, that’s where it belongs,” he stuffed it up her ass as he dropped her again and let her choke on the noose. She spun a little and struggled. It was obviously painful even for a well-seasoned pain slut like her. “Brian wants to watch you play with yourself while you choke. Let’s see you diddle that dirty cunt.”

She was already touching her pussy, and even jiggling the bone before he finished talking. She was looking right at me and holding her legs open as if she was doing this for my benefit. He pulled her up just as I thought she was going to pass out and stuffed the bone into her mouth and let her suck on it. Then he bound her wrists and left her standing on the wooden slats like a scared circus acrobat waiting to have to perform without a net underneath her in the big top.

“You don’t have to hang them, but you can’t make it easy for them. You could make them sing dirty little songs or just stand and dance the twist while they get off. They should be so on the edge that they will do the most pathetic and disgusting things just to get off.”

“When I told the girls to masturbate anytime they had free hands, I didn’t think they’d like to do it,” I explained as we walked back upstairs.

“Don’t you like to jerk off?” Dennis sighed.

“Yeah, but I didn’t think girls do,” I admitted.

“Some girls don’t, but what kind did you think my girls were?” Dennis shrugged. That was a rhetorical question.

“Once I realized they thought they got one over on me, I told them to put one finger in their pussy and one in their asshole. They told me that they had frozen turds thawing in their butts and you’d be mad if they got it all over their fingers and they said you would absolutely check before we left.”

“Well, that is true. If they tried to crap it out before they had to leave I would have been angry. I wanted them to have to feel it in their bowels all night,” he chuckled. “Do you think I was too hard on them?”

“Are you going to make them actually eat a turd?”

“Eating shit is a little like eating Bacon,” he said. He was expecting a look of horror on my face. I LOVE bacon. It tasted nothing like shit.

“Eat too much bacon and it causes high cholesterol and can kill you. You can’t just eat bacon,” Dennis said. He could tell that I didn’t understand his point and he tried to explain again. “No, I do not generally make them eat shit. They have to get their tongues all the way my ass, and they may have to gobble the flakes off the edge of the toilet or something like that but I don’t feed them shit. I like to make them put their nose in it after they make a mess, sniff it, or even lick a frozen turd. It’s humiliating, but it isn’t going to kill them.”

I nodded. He checked on the girls quietly and saw that they were dutifully licking the mostly thawed turds on the bathroom floor. “Way to quiet, let me hear you queef.”

Rachel was the first one to do it. It sounded like she was farting. I didn’t know girls could do this on command. She sucked wind into her pussy by contracting her muscles and then made a sound by pushing it out. Her pussy lips vibrated when she did it. it was fun to watch. Lori was next.

He told them they would eat that shit if they weren’t still blasting queefs when he came back to check on them. The girls were staring at each other and half smiling. They kept staring into each other’s eyes as if they were trying to make the other one laugh.

I have to admit, the constant squeak, squeef, ssssskkkrrrrppp, sounds were hilarious. I know it had to be embarrassing to produce the sound by contracting and relaxing their pussy muscles until they forced air in and out of their pussies.

Dennis and I left the room and stood just outside the door. We listened as the girls trumpeted even more vulgar sounds with their pussies. Lori and Rachel queefed loud, long ones and soft, wet ones all while licking a soft semi-frozen turd in their bathroom.

It was obviously humiliating to be forced to make their delectable young pussies make such rude noises. I heard them giggle but usually when they thought we had gone downstairs. I could tell that even Lori was getting a little red in the face over the rude noises she was making for our amusement.

“Now my wife, she’s a disgusting shit-pig, and she’s used to it. Brad has built up a tolerance as well and that’s often his meal mixed with a little food in the dog-house. I know it sounds outrageous, but you have to understand that this wasn’t something we started doing over night.

He explained that his wife is basically a human garbage disposal and she’d eat just about anything. “She said she would try anything once, when I married her. I guess she liked some of it,” he chuckled. “I don’t know about your family but here we’ve always done a lot of fart and poop jokes around the table. Even before the girls started training they were always laughing about who could fart the loudest or the stinkiest. It wasn’t really that big of a leap that one of the more disgusting things they could do was suck a fart out of someone else’s ass.”

No, my family didn’t do fart and poop humor at the dinner table. That DID sound awesome though.

“The poop-cycle idea actually came from Lori when she was younger. She was always telling every to go suck a frozen turd or a poop-cycle. It was a joke she used a lot but she didn’t mean it for real. She got in trouble for something. I can’t even remember what it was now. I took a piece of ice from the freezer and told her it was a frozen turd. I made her put her nose on it and lick it. That next week she was a complete angel. I knew it scared her so I started freezing actual turds. I’d pick nice, smooth banana shape turds and freeze them up. Then I’d make them lick until they thawed and freeze them again. It became a staple of their discipline. They look like they don’t mind, but trust me, they hate it.”

We checked on Doris. She was standing on the porch all bound up. She was muttering to herself. Her lower lip kept quivering. We went back upstairs and listened the BRAAAPP, BURRRPPPY, BRRAAAAFFFFFF of the girl’s forcibly pushing wind out of their pussies.

“I am sorry I let the girls get away with something they shouldn’t have done,” I said.

“Meh, you gave them a good reason to get punished. I don’t want you to stress tonight. My primary concern is and always has been their safety. As long as they come home, safe, no permanent damage, no new tattoos that would be fine. Rocky Horror Picture Show will be a good experience for you. We use to go as a family.”

“We should all go!”

“No, I’d rather stay here, and I think you will have a little more fun if you go with just them. Just don’t let them boss you around or runoff. They can hang out in the alley outside of the theater before the show. They can hang out there after the show until I come to pick them up. They can’t go anywhere else.”

“Is there anything else I should know that they are not permitted to do?”

“I am not intentionally setting you or them up to fail. If they ask your permission to do something I want you to think about what I told you today and the fact that they may be pushing your buttons. It will be good practice for babysitting tomorrow. I expect a complete report on their behavior.”

“I shouldn’t be a tattle tail though,” I said. I WAS a tattle-tail at school and got my ass kicked. I thought I was helping out the teacher by telling on kids who broke rules when the teacher had to leave the class room. I learned after many wet willies, pink bellies, noogies, frogger punches, underwear wedgies, gum in my hair, and general beat-downs that doesn’t end well.

“I’ll make them run behind the jeep while you tell me. If you keep secrets from me, I’ll know. If you want to watch the girls, I expect you to be honest at all times.”

“Speaking of honest,” I wanted to bring up the scoring system and how Doris couldn’t have statistically won the contest today. It had been gnawing at me and felt unfair.

“Yes? Something you want to say?”

“I think they stopped queefing,” I told him. We both listened for the trumpeted sounds of their cunty-blasts.

The girls were struggling to continue to force air out of their pussies. They had to expend a great deal of effort sucking in the air and then contracting their muscles to queef it back out. Their pussies were red as they tried to flap their labia by pushing air between their pussy lips and couldn’t quite do it. The turds were relatively well thawed out.

“Pick up your turds, and drop them in the toilet,” he instructed. The girls dutifully obeyed. “You should be ashamed of yourself for masturbating. He told you one finger in the pink and one finger in the stink and you ignored him.”

Lori picked up her turd with her mouth and wretched as she spit it into the toilet. She nearly cried. She begged his forgiveness and tried to explain that she was trying to keep the poopy in her butt.

“Yeah, I gathered as much. He is going to babysit you tonight. That means you will do what he tells you and you ask his permission to do the things you normally can’t do on family weekends. Which is what?”

“Everything,” they both said as they tried to chew the taste out of their mouths.

“That’s right,” he said. “Do you think you deserve to be able to use mouthwash and toothpaste?”

“Yes Daddy!!”

“Then beg!”

“Pretty, pretty please, with gumdrop titties, big blue butternuts, coconuts, big butts, stinky cunts, whipped cream, whip my fat ass with molasses and place MY cherry on top may we wash out our nasty mouths!”

“Don’t beg me, beg your babysitter,” he left me in charge and went back to torturing and teasing Doris. He kept denying her an orgasm. I could hear her beg and plead with him that she be allowed to cum. I didn’t know it was up to him. Doris’s pussy was dripping wet the last time I had seen her. I pieced together that she just needed to hear she had permission to feel like a “good whore”.

I tested their obedience by making them beg three times before I let them stand up and clean up.

Once it was over, they didn’t hold it over my head that they got in trouble. They didn’t give me sour, unhappy faces either. They cleaned up and started getting ready again. If anything, they were a little more contrite and behaved. I sat back down on the bed. When Rachel sat on it with me.

“Ass off the bed,” I commanded.

She didn’t even give me a side-glance to see if I was serious. She hopped off and sat her pretty ass on the carpet. I can’t tell you how it made me feel to be able to make the girls obey me. Power was intoxicating. I suppose they could have told me to fuck off at any point and refused to take me seriously.

It was often the little things like insisting they not lay on the bed that thrilled me the most. This was HER room and the boy she babysat had just told her to get her ass off of her own bed. I didn’t know what about that scenario excited me so much. I suppose it was the sheer audacity of imagining someone telling me I couldn’t lay on my own bed.

In retrospect, I would eventually realize it was also the turning of the tables. I was the one who was supposed to be obeying her! I think the humiliation that Rachel may have been feeling was that potential loss of status as babysitter and being relegated to the one being babysat. I just didn’t know how to process any of these concepts in the moment.

Rachel didn’t seem to care or mind that I was in charge. I wondered if deep inside she truly was quivering and melting the way Doris had been physically while she was strung up. I knew I would have been if I was the one in Rachel’s position.

The girls argued a little more about what they were going to wear to the movie. They sang a few more songs.

Lori chose a corset, garter belt, black panties, hose, and heels. She also wore a big white pearl necklace. They seemed to think the word pearl necklace was funny. They said it several times and giggled.

Lori painted her eyes bright blue and made herself look like a total whore. I was shocked to learn that this was “Doctor Frank-N-Furter” – a man.

“You don’t love Tim Curry?” she asked me when she described the actor that played him. “He is dreamy,” she gushed. She clearly had an infatuation with him. “I’d marry that sexy motherfucker!”

“I would too!” Rachel insisted. I was suddenly very jealous of a British actor I’d never heard of until that night.

“No, he’d marry me! You would be his pet dog whore and live in our dog house just outside of our mansion in Cheshire England! But we’d all be happy together!” Lori chuckled.

Tim Curry would go on to be in some classic movies from the 1980s like Legend and Clue. However, that hadn’t happened yet.