Chapter 6

“Tell us all about the training, Mom!” Steve and Tiffany both seemed to want to hear about my experiences. They wore shorts, and Tiffany had on a bikini top – even though they had been swimming naked. They still frequently wore clothes around the house.

“Well, actually, it is her homework to tell ME all about it and demonstrate what she learned,” Pat explained and asked me if I minded showing the family. I said that I absolutely didn’t.

Everyone commented on how I looked good with my head shaved and asked me If I would keep it that way. I told them how that would be up to my Master and preened over the attention. That was very reassuring. I assumed it would shock or horrify them. The only one who had something snarky to say was Casey, and she always had something snarky to say.

I described the way things started in the morning with calisthenics and being cleaned up. I told them how we were constantly supervised and had no privacy.

“So, does this mean you will be doing your business on the lawn from now on?” Steve asked.

“I think it does, Sir” I looked at Pat for confirmation. He nodded that it did.

“Gross, you didn’t even get toilet paper? Even for number two?” Tiffany scrunched her cute little nose at the very idea. I was glad I hadn’t told her that I was given an enema until the water ran clear. She would have freaked out. I told her what Pepper had said about it being wasteful to cut down trees just to dry my ass when a water house would do just fine. Tiffany didn’t seem convinced that I was even serious about the requirement.

“I am supposed to demonstrate everything I learned to your father,” I had no problem showing the rest of the family what I learned, but it would be up to him if I had to explain or demonstrate it in front of them or not. I was going to have to live this way from now on, and they were going to find out that I would seldom, if ever, use an indoor bathroom from now on.

I never would have believed that was required. It still kind of shocked me, but it wasn’t a deal-breaker to living here at all. If all the other slaves did it – then I would as well.

I was proud of myself today. I went into it thinking I already knew everything about being a submissive, and there was so much I had never thought about.

I got down on my knees and begged for his permission to go outside and shit and piss on the lawn. I pled like I had been taught in class. It was different, though, begging in front of my kids. It didn’t feel quite real because I knew my husband wouldn’t refuse me, and everyone giggled like I wasn’t seriously asking.

I was very explicit in my speech and explained that the vulgarity was part of humbling myself before him. I felt embarrassed that I had to use that kind of language now. My kids didn’t seem to mind – except for Casey. She said “shit” all the time but only as a cuss word.

Now, she seemed deeply offended. I groveled and begged to be permitted to shit. I felt bad that I was offending her, but this was how things were going to be now.

I was aware of the required indignity of my new expected behavior, but I accepted it - I just hoped the others would not be too offended or disgusted.

“I was taught today to accept that what comes out of my ass is shit, and what comes out of my cunt is piss,” I explained.

“I only fart rainbows and pee strawberry milk,” Tiffany mused playfully. The others laughed at her playful joke. I was glad they weren’t so shocked that they freaked out. I think they may have been if they saw me do this on my first day but my children had grown a little more used to the unusual alternative lifestyles by living here a few weeks.

“Cool, so are you going to beg us like this when Dad isn’t home?” Steve asked. He was half-joking. His father answered that I would, and I didn’t argue with him.

“One of my masters at training academy isn’t that much older than you, Sir,” I told Steve. Master had me crawl after him as he walked me outside. Everyone except my eldest daughter Casey followed us outside.

I totally understood and wouldn’t have wanted her to be uncomfortable.

I mentioned how I was supposed to beg to have my butt plug removed and not touch it without permission. That brought up obvious questions about the reason behind the chastity belt.

“They want me to be very horny before I graduate, Sir,” I explained to Mike.

“That doesn’t sound very fair to Dad” he folded his arms across his chest.

“I’ll take care of your father in other ways,” I said as I squatted down and spread my legs so that I could shit and piss. “I have three minutes for only piss and five minutes if I need to shit,” I explained.

“What happens if you take longer?” Tiffany asked as she groaned and made an ugly face at what she saw me do just now. I didn’t know, and I told her that.

“Just tell me if your mom goes over her allotted time,” Pat said as he picked up the garden hose and sprayed me down when I finished.

“See? It wasn’t the end of the world,” Pat explained. I could tell he was a little uncomfortable sharing this part of my training with the kids, but he seemed to look forward to hearing what other things I had learned.

“I have been eating wrong too! I was not supposed to have the same food as the rest of you,” I explained how I was not supposed to take joy in simple pleasures. It helped to keep me focused, and my purpose was to serve.

No one really questioned that was my purpose. I kind of expected that someone would freak out or protest, but everyone quietly nodded when I made the comment.

“Speaking of which, it’s dinner time!” Mike and Steve both echoed their hunger. I began to prepare dinner as we continued to talk.

Casey commented that it sounded stupid to do something that doesn’t give me pleasure.

“Oh, but it does give me pleasure, Ma’am. I enjoy serving and the structure. I was putting on airs and acting above my station. I was basically told I was spoiled by eating the same thing you did. I should be eating gruel with spit in it!”

“Dibs on spitting on it!” Steve called it out before Mike could. They both assumed they would be spitting in my food.

Pat found it hard to believe that I had to have spit in my food but didn’t tell me to ignore the requirement. I wasn’t sure if it was optional. I turned beet red thinking about the fact Tawny practically gushed about how she drank piss and wondered what my kids would say if I told them that.

I told Steve that it probably didn’t have to be every meal.

“Is it optional?” Pat asked as he stood over me.

“I don’t know, Master,” I said as I got down on all fours in front of my stainless bowl.

“All the other slaves had to do it?” he asked.

“Yes, Master.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“Not particularly master,” I said.

“Find out if it is required at every meal,” Pat seemed disappointed in me that I didn’t know the answer. He picked up my bowl of gruel and spit into it, and then sat it in front of me. “It will be every meal at least through your collaring. I will be the one to spit into the bowl, though. I don’t foresee a scenario where I won’t be taking a meal with you.”

He said that more for the benefit of his sons. I nodded and blushed as I looked at the disgusting light brown slop mixed with my husband’s spit.

I ate on the floor while my family sat at the table. I kept my hands behind my back. At training, they handcuffed me, and Mistress ordered me to hold my ass cheeks apart during lunch so that they could stick things up my ass. However, no one paid much attention to me eating on the floor, and I didn’t make a big deal out of it. I was a little too shy to tell them those details.

I know I was supposed to share everything I learned with my husband, and I felt guilty that I left out those details.

At lunch today, Bambi performed push-ups while she ate. It was like she was slow-humping the floor. Each time she went down to the floor for a bite, she swiveled her hips like she was fucking someone lying underneath her. It was slow and methodical and very hot to watch. It was no wonder she had wash-board abs. I didn’t do that and probably would have been tuckered out by the time the food was finished eating if I had tried.

Karen seemed to think Bambi was showing off, but if I could have eaten that way I would have done the same thing – why not?

I also didn’t mention it to my family. I enjoyed listening to them converse about other things while I ate without the use of my fingers. It’s messy, sloppy, and a little funny to watch. Every now and then, one of my family members would look down and giggle while they observed me trying to gobble my food like a hungry puppy.

This would be my new normal from now on, but it still felt far more humiliating at home than it had during my lessons.

I did demonstrate the 14 positions after I washed my face. I didn’t tell them we had an extended make-out session where we licked each other’s tits and faces clean. There was no one to do that with at the house, and I was afraid they would think I was at training getting my rocks off. (I definitely enjoyed that experience).

I stood in the “Waitress” position while my family finished dinner. I demonstrated how I had not been dragging my nipples on the tiles or holding my legs far enough apart when I was eating either. “If you can not see the pink of my asshole or my pee-hole when I am not in a chastity belt, would you tell me so that I won’t keep making the same mistake?” I asked Pat.

“What is the pee-hole?” Mike asked. Steve looked at him like he was an idiot. Casey called them both morons and said that Steve wouldn’t be able to identify one either.

“Show me your pussy, and I will tell you where your pee-hole is,” Steve promised her – obviously, he wasn’t expecting her to comply. The two eldest teenagers began to argue playfully as they often did. It was a pretty typical night. I eventually told Mike that my pee-hole was deep inside of me. I would have shown him if he wanted to see it, but he didn’t ask, and with the chastity belt on, that would have been impossible anyway.

After Dinner, they wanted to hear more about what we did. I played with my nipples and explained that I had to constantly tug them and tweak them as part of my homework. Casey scoffed and said she thought it was just an excuse to play with myself – and maybe it was. I liked it.

I told them about the community service and how we had to move rocks and earth to make something beautiful and useful. It epitomized service to me. I felt really satisfied that I spent a part of the day doing that. I was looking forward to my husband volunteering me for other projects like that. It was grueling and brutal but, they actually let us wear boots because the ground was so rocky near the landfill.I thought that was much more generous than they had to be. We were bound with chains and heavy weights though.

“I’d like to do that,” Tiffany said.

“Nude?” Casey chuckled at her naïve sister.

“Sure? Why not. I already go to the pool naked,” Tiffany challenged her sister. I believe Casey thought Tiffany would think twice about doing hard work if it had to be in the nude.

“No doing,” Pat said firmly.

“Why, Daddy?” Tiffany offered him a pout. She was his all-time favorite, and he spoiled her. He really doted on Casey as well.

“I don’t know what kind of crazies are out in the woods,” Pat explained with a confident air about him.

“You let Mom do it, and you weren’t concerned about crazies,” Tiffany added.

I explained that I wasn’t in the swamps outside of the walls of the trailer park. There were some woods in people’s backyards along the edge of the walls that weren’t very dense. It would be impossible to get lost in them. They are only about twenty or thirty feet – a copse of trees, really.

“Oh, in that case, knock yourself out, Squirt!” Pat chuckled.I mentioned again that “they put big chains between my legs and forced us to squat with our legs spread while we did the work, too,” I reminded my daughter that it wasn’t all fun and games out there in the hot Florida sun. However, I do not think Tiffany had any desire to work in the manner of slaves in training. It didn’t seem to shock my family that I had been chained all day. I suppose they were getting used to the idea that was how things worked for me now.

“What else did you learn today, Mom?” Mike begged me to tell him more. I had already spoken about speech protocols and the positions. I told him that I did affirmations but that his father may want to take that private.

“You peed in front of me, and you are playing with your boobies. What else don’t I know?” Mike joked.

“Well, what is an affirmation, dear?” Pat asked.

I cringed a little. He used a lot of sweet terms of affection for me. The affirmation was quite the opposite. “It is supposed to help keep me from having a massive ego and getting too uppity. It is supposed to address my many shortcomings. It would be easier to show you than to tell you, Sir.”

“Sort of like our family meetings?” Pat was curious. We had been holding meetings almost every night. The kids would go first and talk about what they did and learned that day. They would ask any questions about the neighborhood and boundaries. We had some lively discussions the first couple of days upon arrival, but now we were mostly settled in. Pat would tell me what I needed to improve upon and offer constructive feedback. I’d go last and accept that feedback and say what I would do differently.

“Well, usually I am put into an uncomfortable and humiliating position like this,” I demonstrated by becoming a table with my legs spread. “Then the mistress would approach me with some training tool. She duct-taped an orange and beat me with that. She used a leather crop, a hand ruler – different textures so that I didn’t get used to one thing.”

Pat didn’t have any paddles or rods in the living room. However, he was no slouch when it came to using his hands to smack me. I told him to start smacking me and asking questions. “What kind of questions?”

“Anything you want to ask,” I said. I didn’t realize how hard it may be for him to figure out what I meant. I had to ask myself the question and then answer it for him to get it.

“Why do you have such a big ass, bitch?” and then I would answer myself, “I eat too much, and I really should have my calories more restricted, Master.”

“They called you bitch?” Pat seemed either jealous or concerned. I told him that they called me a lot of names.

“It helped to hear it out loud and acknowledge them. I had to call my pussy a cunt, and my butt an ass. I am not permitted the privilege of euphemisms and polite language. “They asked me if I was horny, and I had to tell them how wet I was, Master.”

“Are you wet right now?”

“Yes, very! Master,” and then I explained I couldn’t just answer yes, or no; I had to be explicit in my speech and give reasons behind my responses. “I am a stupid cunt that thinks of her own pleasure. I am wet because I’ve been playing with my nipples non-stop and thinking about all the dirty things I could do to you tonight!”

Casey groaned and left the room. She said she had enough of our “playful bullshit.” The others stayed for a while, and my husband eventually got into giving me affirmations. He asked me how I felt about going back, and I told him that I was elated and excited.