Chapter 31: Janie and Susie Castilian...

Janie and Susie Castilian were relishing their dominance over the Dirty Dozen. Yet they knew instinctively to remain courteous, not to gloat. To be firm, but polite as they pushed the women, stretched their boundaries.

One tactic was simple — addressing them by their first names. No more ‘Mrs. Cousteau’. They called on her early one Sunday morning. Janie, “Mimi, call up René Couture.”

“Melanie’s husband? Okay, but why?”

“Tell him you want to fuck Mikey. But ask his permission.”

Mimi was trying to claw her way back into Kate’s good graces after her faux pas of insulting Chase Windsor. She had made the mistake of thinking that because the man was interested in her daughter, Dixie, that she could lord it over him.

Mimi knew that René Couture was her husband’s bowling buddy. It would be embarrassing enough asking him for permission to fuck Mikey, but would he, could he, keep his mouth closed? Or would he blab to Roger?

Well, that took about a nanosecond to race through Mimi’s mind as she dialed the number. The Castilian sisters had given her an assignment. That was the same as if it had come from Kate herself. And, by extension, Eulalie Guidry, Chase’s protégé.

“Hello, René? This is Mimi Cousteau.” “Fine, thank you. Yourself?”

After a minute of chit-chat, she plunged in, “René, I’m not gonna beat around the bush. I woke up horny as hell. I got such an itch, me. Would it be okay, I come by and ... and go back to Mikey’s room?”

Janie and Susie liked how pink her cheeks had become. Not from being told to go fuck a boy, but from having to beg his father.

Mimi laughed, “No, sorry René, just Mikey. For now, anyway.”

At the Couture home, Janie and Susie were pleased to see the entire family — Melanie and René, and of course, Mikey — looking at Mimi. Melanie with humor and understanding, René with speculation, and Mikey with teenage enthusiasm.

Susie said, “Mimi.”

The woman started, then, “Oh, sorry, Susie.” She unbuttoned her sundress, slipped out of her panties, and kicked off her sneakers. René and Mikey stared.

Melanie said, “Mikey, manners.”

“Oh. Thank you Janie, thank you Susie.”

Melanie, holding back a smile, “For?”

“For the pussy, I really, really appreciate it.”

The sisters led Mimi back to Mikey’s room. She was now completely over any initial embarrassment. The concern that René might say something to Roger, had evaporated as she undressed and felt everyone’s eyes on her.

It didn’t take long — Mikey was too excited, even with his father in the next room.

Janie said, “Mikey, get yourself ready, Mimi will be back in a few minutes.”

“Yes ma’am, thank you ma’am.” Like their mothers, the Dirty Dozen boys had learned to obey the Castilian sisters.

Back in the kitchen, Melanie was pouring fresh chicory, while René openly ogled the naked woman. Mimi was still flushed, her nipples erect, sweat running down her chest. She had that just-fucked look, but with a definite not-finished-yet overlay.

Melanie, who had been the very first of the Dirty Dozen to suck off her own son, smiled sympathetically, “Too quick?”

“Yeah, I didn’t quite get there.”

Susie smiled sweetly, “Get there.”

Mimi’s pink turned redder, but she didn’t hesitate. Instinctively she knew to stare directly at René as she diddled herself to a quick orgasm. René couldn’t tear his eyes away. Melanie smiled to herself, enjoying the Castilian’s little power play.

Janie wandered back to Mikey; he was ready again. “Go get Mimi.”

“But Daddy ... yes ma’am.”

Blushing furiously, hard-on swaying gently, Mikey accompanied Janie back to the kitchen. Susie smiled sweetly, “Have a cup of coffee, Mikey.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Melanie had to force herself not to giggle as she poured. René glanced at his son, but was still riveted by Mimi who was still playing with herself because she hadn’t been told to stop. But by now, she was totally at ease, totally turned on.

Melanie, René, Mikey, Janie, and Susie watched with varying degrees of interest as she brought herself off again and again and again. Finally Susie said, “Okay, Mikey, she’s all yours.”

Janie said, “You go back with them, Melanie.”

This time the woman couldn’t hold back her giggles.

Word spread, as it inevitably did, and the Dirty Dozen could only wonder what Janie and Susie would be having them do next. Overall, there was more curiosity than dread, more anticipation than concern.

There had been a certain sense of relief in being told what to do, in ceding responsibility to Kate. The Dirty Dozen had reached a sort of mental lassitude as they’d traversed through the various stages.

Dancing naked in front of their sons now seemed rather quaint. How silly they’d been to fret about a little naughtiness like that. Sucking their own sons off? Admittedly, that had been a step. But, hey, all of them did it.

After Kate had had them sucking the boys off on a regular basis at home ... well, it was no longer even worthy of discussion.

Interestingly, by the time Kate told them to start fucking the kids — that night in the private party room in Contrary Mary’s — well by that time, it was a smaller step than the original blowjobs. Fucking them seemed inevitable, almost natural.

So, by the time Janie and Susie started issuing orders, the Dirty Dozen had already been well programmed to obey, to say ‘yes’. It didn’t matter, not really, that Kate had stepped back; that the Castilian girls were making it up as they went along.

Like Mary Rousseau said, “Look, Janie and Susie gonna have me fuck all twelve boys no matter what.”

Sylvia Fontaine nodded.

“So what do I care where they have me fuck ‘em? Contrary Mary’s. My home, their home, who cares? Same with how many at a time?” She winked at Sylvia, “Some of them boys like jackrabbits. I could fuck all of them in an hour or so. If that’s what Janie and Susie wanted”

“You’re right, Mary.”

Compliance — whether to Kate or the Castilian sisters was now automatic. Which is what Eulalie Guidry had planned all along. Not the specific details, but the complete surrender of body and willpower.

In Denise’s bedroom, she smiled and handed a tube of BioNude lubricant to Ginny. She held up a second tube, “I’ll do Danny Boy, you do Jill.”

Ray_Ray started taping them as Denise used both hands. Ginny winked at Jill and took her time massaging her friend’s pussy, inside and out. Ginny made no attempt to disguise the pleasure she was having in finger-fucking Jill as she caressed her clit.

By the time Ray-Ray told Danny Boy to go down on her, “Make her cum, and keep her cumming,” Jill was already on the brink.

Monday, July 25, 2022, was the day that changed life down in the Cajun Bayous. Well, that was the specific day for Bernadette Allard and her boys. Other families had capitulated a few days earlier or would grimly hold out a few more days. But, the tail end of July had its impact, no question. Whether it would be a lasting change would take months, perhaps years, to determine.

The high-pressure area over much of the Gulf Coast had lasted and lasted. This caused low-pressure areas to sink, thus stopping moisture from condensing in the clouds. Fierce sunshine, no rain, no breezes to speak of, and an unrelenting heat wave, had even the old-timers saying, “I ain’t seen nothing like it, me.” It was almost blast-furnace heat.

Monday, the 25th marked the twelfth straight day where temperatures never dropped below 100, even after midnight. The school had been closed for days. The Bayou Bar & Bank remained open, but there was almost no business at Cunts Corner.

It seemed that every kitchen radio was tuned to Shannon Says on WZYD that morning. “It’s seven-ten in the morning and the temperature is 106 degrees. This is the third straight day without electricity. Mississippi Power will not provide even an estimate of when Sausalito will have its service restored. Sausalito General is still running on emergency generators.

“Mayor Gigi Fontenot, please give us some good news.”

“I called Eulalie Guidry yesterday — she is reaching out to the Southern Company. No promises, but she tole me that her boss, Chase Windsor, knows somebody who knows somebody.”

“Your lips to God’s ear. Any suggestions from your office or the City Council?”

“The emergency hotline is still up and running. Rémy Thibodeaux has the police department on full alert. We have emergency shelters with ice and water and food at all four of the schools.”

“That’s something. What else?”

“I recommend nudity at home. It’s just too fucking hot, Shannon. Me an’ the boys ain’t wore a stitch of clothes for ... I dunno, weeks now.”

“Very prudent. You kids out there, you heard the mayor — strip and encourage your sweet mama to do the same. Anything else, Gigi?”

“Miss Kitty’s is running on generators. From now until this is over, beer and soft drinks are free. Shannon, there’s no age limit now — whole families can come in, get some relief.”

“But what about the stage, the dancers, the Blowjob Rooms?”

“Miss Kate — Kate Broussard — ain’t gonna let the heat stop show business, no ma’am. But the girls won’t show anything ... um, that ain’t appropriate. Pussies will be covered up at all times.”

“I see. But so many discerning gentlemen go to Miss Kitty’s to get sucked off.”

“Oh, that ain’t changing, no ma’am. But we suck cock behind closed doors anyway, so you mamas ain’t gotta worry ‘bout your kids.”

“Very commendable. So Miss Kitty’s will be as proper as ... as a Disney movie.”

“Exactly right.”

Shannon Trudeau and Gigi Fontenot kept a straight face throughout this charade even though they knew Kate couldn’t wait to have a room full of families with children.

If anything, the heat was even more intolerable down in the Cajun Bayous. The Bernadette Allard family was typical of the stoic Cajun households who were somehow weathering the unprecedented misery. At two o’clock, in Cajun French, WZYD announced, “It’s 44.444 degrees Celsius, another all-time record high.”

Bernadette looked at her youngest boy, “Alain?”

“It’s 112 degrees, Mama.”

“Holy fuck.” She wished she hadn’t asked. She had three boys — 14, 15, 16, and she hadn’t tried to get them to wear a stitch for weeks. She herself couldn’t remember the last time she pulled on a pair of panties.

The four of them sat around the kitchen table listlessly; all of them had a wet washcloth on top of their heads. They had to continually run them under the faucet; water evaporated so rapidly.

The three boys, Alain, and his older brothers, Oliver and Baptiste, were renowned, even in the bayous, for their extraordinarily high sex drives. In normal times, Bernadette was understanding, sometimes even sympathetic. “Jack off all you want, boys, but not in front of me — that’s the only thing I ask.”

Good luck with that. Three extra-horny guys and one female in sight. She told her best friend, and next-door neighbor, Caroline Richard, “I give up on that, me. They cain’t hep themselves, non.”

Caroline shrugged, “What you expect? You got a pussy, boobs too. Tiny house, one bathroom, two bedrooms.”

“I know, I know.”

Bernadette still remembered that conversation. The two of them were in Cunts Corner for a ‘Sabine’ — a shampoo and pussy wax.

Caroline said, “Look at yourself, Bern. You still got you a sexy body at 29. An’ you tan all over. You think them boys don’ know you go ‘round naked all the time?”

“I guess.”

Swallow and Pussy had just finished waxing them and were starting to wash their hair with garden hoses. Caroline patted her friend’s pussy, “You think they don’ know me an’ you come to Cunts Corner?”

“You’re right, you’re right. You’re lucky you got girls. Cee.”

“Right now I am, but they ain’t always gonna stay little.”

Bernadette nodded, “At least my boys can’t get pregnant, that’s something.”

Caroline winked, “No, but they’s someone in your house they kin knock up, you don’ watch ‘em close. Especially that Alain.” The liveliest one.

Bernadette sighed; no need to comment on the obvious. On the reality that faced so many Cajun women with boys in the house.

Swallow and Pussy continued shampooing — candid discussions were the norm at Cunts Corner.

“What you think I should do, Cee? They jack off all the time.”

“In front of you?”

“Yeah, usually.”

“One at a time?”

Bernadette hesitated, “Sometimes.”

“Oh?”

“I got to the point, I don’ care, me. One, two, three? What’s the difference?”

Pussy had an erection, nothing startling about that.

“Hon, they shoot off on you yet?”

“No ma’am. Well...”

“Yeah?”

“Some mornings? I wake up?”

“Cum.”

“Yeah, on my tits an’ tummy usually.”

“Alain?”

“Probably.”

“You know what, hon?”

“What?”

“Long as it ain’t in your pussy, I’d let it go.”

Another sigh.

Well, that had been weeks ago before the temperature began staying over a hundred 24/7. The heat had simply wilted Bernadette Allard. Her body, but also her willpower.

The unrelenting weather had slowed down even her sons, widely acknowledged to be among the randiest in the Cajun Bayous, and that was saying something. In more moderate times they masturbated a couple of times first thing in the morning. Then, after school, two or three more times.

Bernadette no longer bothered to even try to count the number of daily ejaculations — each boy easily shot off six or more times. Her youngest, her favorite, Alain, was the worst of the three. Or, the best, depending on how you looked at it. Back then, back before the fucking heat wave, it amused her to note that Alain seemed to shoot just as much cum at bedtime as first thing in the morning. Now? She couldn’t care if it was a single drop or a pint.

She was pretty certain that he was the late-night visitor to her bed, But she’d resigned herself to it; like Caroline said, “As long as it’s not in your pussy.”

But this hot spell was changing everything.

It was Alain, of course, who first put her hand around his boner. He had sat down beside her on the couch. Bernadette looked at him for a long moment, too wiped out to argue. She noticed pre-cum leaking from the head; she had learned years ago what that meant.

Listlessly, she began the ancient up-and-down. Alain leaned in and planted a gentle kiss on her shoulder, “Thank you, Mama.”

She just sighed, “You’re welcome, baby.”

Oliver and Baptiste watched avidly, stroking themselves lightly. Bernadette knew, and wasn’t the least surprised, that they were holding back on purpose.

She felt like a limp rag doll; like it was someone else masturbating her youngest. When Alain sucked in his breath, she automatically sped up a little, her sweat-soaked hand on his sweat-soaked cock. How many times had she seen him cum? A hundred? More? In any case, she wasn’t surprised at how high he shot.

Nor was she even bothered when Olive and Baptiste sat down on either side. She didn’t wait for them to reach for her hands; she just encircled them and started stroking.

Bernadette, gobsmacked by the heat, leaned back and closed her eyes, operating on autopilot. This wasn’t the first time she jacked off two boys at the same time. Was it her first to do three? Even in her exhaustion, she gave herself a small smile — no, she’d done four a few times back behind that one-room school.

She smiled to herself again; it seemed like ancient history. Her mama would take her to school, and one or the other of them would often give Jonny LeBlanc his morning BJ. No one — the other mothers, the students — thought anything of it. It was just part of the morning ritual.

Sometimes it was Mrs. Richard and Caroline who arrived first. Bernadette couldn’t remember the number of times she and Mama had watched one or the other of them suck off the one-legged Gulf War veteran.

After school? If their mothers were a little late, she and Caroline would cheerfully masturbate or blow any other stragglers.

But today, in this fucking heat, Bernadette wasn’t a casual volunteer like at school, but she had no willpower to argue. It was simply easier to use both hands and get it over with.

She had no way of knowing it, but similar maternal surrenders were occurring all over the bayous. Most young boys were simply able to summon more energy, even enthusiasm, than their mothers. It was still a matriarchal society, but sap was flowing in the boys while their mamas were physically and mentally drained.

After her two other boys had spurted off, Bernadette understood — hell, the entire family did — that there was no going back. Oliver and Baptiste were wiping up their puddles of cum when Alain, smiling broadly, sat down and put her hand around him again.

Enough.

Bernadette said, “Boys.”

They all looked at her attentively.

“This heatwave has us all fucked up. Yeah, I jess jacked you off. Yeah, I’ll do it again. But I ain’t no fucking machine. Alain, you get yourself ready to cum, then I’ll finish you off. Same for all of you; I ain’t gonna do all the work.”

Oliver and Baptiste looked at Alain. Although he was the youngest, he had somehow emerged as the leader. Bernadette smiled to herself; she liked that he took his time, thought things through. That was one reason the handsome lad was her favorite.