Chapter 8

Gloria admitted to me that she wanted to own a ‘teenage boy’ and that she wanted to make that a reality. She seemed quite serious about it.

“I started thinking about it for a while, but yesterday I decided that I wanted you. I do not regret my decision. Do you?”

“No.”

How could I? She was softly pumping my cock, and every now and then, she’d nuzzle me or blow in my ear sweetly.

“You might. That’s why I want us to have some ground rules. Things that we understand. I want to understand what turns you on, what turns you off, what motivates you because that tells me how to reward you for being a good boy and what to do when you are naughty in ways that I do not enjoy.”

I was intrigued to hear there were naughty things that she WOULD enjoy. Gloria told me to list my boundaries and limits, and she would consider them. “You told me that you will do anything that I say. What if I told you to suck the driver’s cock?”

The driver put an end to that question by outright saying that it wasn’t on the table. My Aunt told him to hush and explained it was all hypothetical. “I understand there may be some things you won’t do or would prefer to do. I can’t really expect you to like it all. I’d like that. I’d like it if you turned off your little brain and obeyed me at all times.”

It was a tempting but scary offer.

“We are going to work out some rules of engagement, and it’s going to be interactive – full of give and take. Once you agree, though, I expect you to fully adhere to the rules and come to me respectfully if you have a problem and want to change them. I do not want you to just get scared off and quit.”

That made sense.

She told me that she had worked out how she would communicate with me on the RV. Gloria told me to set my phone to have a special ring and vibration when she called or texted. “At night, I want you to sleep with your phone. You can charge it during the day. I want you to have it because I want you to text me if Brunna or Hector get up. I will also give you instructions. I can pretend I am on Facebook, but I’ll be texting you to bring me my shoes or rub my feet. That way, your mom doesn’t overhear us when we are not alone.”

That was also understandable. I was surprised she didn’t want me to wipe the text messages periodically. She really trusted me if we were going to do this! That meant a lot to me. (That or she hadn’t considered what a liability text messages might be).

The rules she laid out for me were as follows:

Her Primary Rule was: She is the boss. I must obey her instructions. I can clarify if I do not understand, but I should NEVER ask her to repeat what already heard.

“I am above your mom, your dad, even the Pope. I am your Queen. You serve me. Is that understood?”

“Yes.”

She listed some more rules that were more like protocol or expectations.

1. Cleanliness: combed hair, brushed teeth, fingernails clean and trimmed, deodorant, soap, clean clothes at all times.

“I expect you to come to me presentable. You will take pride in your appearance because you belong to me, and I do not own trash, Jason.”

I generally did the minimum needed for a boy my age in the hygiene area. I’d do better now knowing that I was being judged and inspected.

2. Shaving!

I told her that I was not able to grow a beard or a mustache yet.

She held my smooth face in her hand and squeezed. “I wouldn’t want you to put a razor to your tender, smooth baby face.”

So, what did she want me to do?

She pinched my pubic hair and plucked a few out. “All of this must go. Shave your entire dick and balls.”

Gloria said she’d buy me some disposable razors tonight, and I could pretend that they belonged to her.

3. Set the table, ensure everyone has silverware, and a drink, the food is served, and if anyone needs anything at the table, get up and get it.

“But I only have to do what you tell me?” I asked. I didn’t like the actual work.

“You obey me, and your mother and I are the ones that end up having to do this. You will learn to desire to make my life easier. Right now, you are all about your needs and getting your pretty dick sucked. This will reinforce my will. You will also make life easier on the RV for everyone by being helpful. You like being helpful, don’t you, Jason?”

“Won’t my mom and dad become suspicious?”

“Jason, if your parents become suspicious because you decided to be helpful, then that means you are generally thought to be lazy. If Brunna helped set the table, would you even notice?”

“No.”

“That’s because she is helpful when she wants to be. You are going to simply say that you feel like you should be contributing, and you want more responsibility. If your parents have some problem with that, I will step in.”

There was no arguing with that.

“You will only sit at the table after you have completed those activities. Once you do, I want your hands palms down flat on the table. You will only start eating after you hear me speak to you or I give you a look and a nod.”

“What if you aren’t there?”

She smiled wickedly. “Oh, we are going to be spending this vacation together often. I want you to find reasons to always be where I am. When we take an Uber, I want you to sit right next to me. If you are on your own, then use your best judgment, behave yourself, and be polite.”

I wasn’t sure that I liked that. I was nervous that my parents might get suspicious when they saw how I was constantly around my Aunt.

“Do you remember when Brunna sat on your lap on the way home from the shopping mall?”

“Yes.”

“Did you really like that, or was she too heavy?”

“I liked it,” I tried not to sound super enthusiastic because I did not want to be a super perv.

“At times, I am going to sit on your lap,” my Aunt moved over to place her body on my lap. She told me where to put my hands under her boobs and how to hold her. “This is how I want you to hold me.”

It wasn’t super sexual, but since we were both naked, she dropped down onto my cock and began to wiggle it into her pussy. “This is a lap dance. I want you to be hard when I sit down on your cock even when you are wearing pants.”

“What If I can’t get hard?”

“Jason, you are already thinking about ways you can fail instead of succeeding,” My Aunt wriggled on my dick, and her pussy started dripping all over my thighs and lap.

“I do not have everything planned out, but I do not want to have to spank your ass and stand you in the corner like my daughter. That’s not fun for me, and it frankly takes a lot of time and hurts my hand. It’s necessary because she won’t listen, and that gets her attention. I do not want you to be ‘work’ for me to do. I want you to make my life easier. If everything comes with a punishment for disobedience or failing to meet my expectations, then we’ve already set ourselves to fail. Let’s say that you will earn my displeasure, and I’ll react accordingly, for now.”

That was ominous.

“You want to please me, don’t you, Jason?”

She asked as we neared the parking lot for the strip club.

“Larry Flynt’s Hustler Club!” the driver announced proudly. It looked run down, like a garish circus fun house with neon lights and mirrors on the outside. There was a time this dumpy place may have seemed classy or fun, but right now, it just looked pathetic. There were only a few cars outside.

“Thank you,” my Aunt directed him to let us out. She told me to open my mouth. I thought my Aunt was going to kiss me. Instead, she fed me her cotton panties, effectively gagging me so that I could not speak.

“Don’t talk; just look pretty,” she told me. I could only nod. She put her skirt on and told me I could pull my pants up. Now, I had stick pussy juice all over my lap.

The driver was a little irate that my Aunt didn’t tip her more than she already had. Gloria lamented that she did not like greedy people. “I will be very generous with you, but you must show me gratitude and not try to bargain with me. If you want to see me naked or live out one of your fantasies, you should ask graciously, and if I tell you no, then that is the end of it.”

I nodded as she led me to the bouncer at the front door. He looked like a mountain of a man and likely belonged in the backwoods of Louisiana. He had a long beard, and his tuxedo didn’t fit him right. The bouncer appeared ridiculously overdressed in a suit that fit him wrong.

He wasn’t inclined to let us in when he saw us coming. We weren’t exactly normal strip club customers.

“Oh please, it’s my son’s birthday. He’s 18 today. I just want to buy him some dances and pop his cherry,” she said as she tucked two ten-dollar bills into his coat pocket.

I thought there was no way we were getting in. However, he opened the door without a word. The bar smelled like desperation – if that was a scent. Stale beer, mildew, cigarettes, and cheap perfume. An old song called Rock Candy by Montrose was playing as we walked in.

A blonde girl who looked like she might have been a prom queen 20 years ago was on stage. She had shoulder-length blonde hair and reminded me a little of a Barbie doll that had been left out in the sun for a little while and stripped of its clothes.

She was lying on her ass with her ankles around the pole. The dancer held herself up with her elbow on the stage as if she was utterly bored as she started out at the small audience.

The seats were torn but looked like they were once really elegant. The carpet was dirty, and there was brass and ornate lamps all over, but it was clear the place hadn’t been maintained very well in many years.

Customers were spread out in the darkened room around the central stage. There couldn’t have been more than seven of them. All of them sat stupefied and motionless, only occasionally taking a drink.

I noticed right away two big black women. One of whom was completely bald; she wore a metal submissive-style slave collar. She had bullet-shaped tits and wore black pasties over her nipples. She was wearing a pair of black bottoms with a lacy see-thru skirt around her massive body.

The other black woman had short braided hair. She had massive tits that sagged down. She wore a top that offered some support. They were some of the biggest natural tits I’d ever seen. She had an equally massive ass that reminded me of the chubby white lady I had seen at the mall. I imagined that if she farted, it would knock someone over – just from how big her ass was.

They both scowled at me. I didn’t understand why they would be unfriendly to customers. I realized that they didn’t see me as a customer. I looked like I clearly didn’t belong in this place. They weren’t going to waste time tempting me into a dance because they didn’t think I could afford them.

One girl that approached us was a goofy blonde girl. She introduced herself as Lacey, and she couldn’t have been more than two years older than me (which would make her barely 18). She was flat-chested but wore a bikini top and matching bottom. She had a little acne and a puckered smile that made me imagine she had just eaten a lot of peanut butter and couldn’t open her mouth all the way.

“Hey, sit anywhere you like,” she said.

My Aunt chose a table near the stage, and I sat beside her. She put her hand on mine. Lacey sat down with us without asking.

“Where are you all from?” she asked.

“How much are dances?” Gloria got right down to business.

A single “personal” dance cost 20 dollars. They only last for a single song which in this place was a little under 3 minutes. They had more expensive “sofa” and “champagne” dances, but my Aunt wasn’t going to pay for those.

“Are they lap dances? Friction?” she asked.

“For you? I’ll make it really nice,” Lacey offered.

“No, for my son. It’s his 18th birthday, and you’d be the first lap dance he ever got other than from me and his cousin.”

I was a little embarrassed by that, but I played along and smiled. What could I do? I had my Aunt’s dirty panties in my mouth.

“Oh!” Lacy smiled. She told us that when her cousins found out she was working that they came and spent a lot of money on her. “It was weird because I grew up with them, but money is money.”

“Exactly,” Gloria agreed, slapped down a twenty, and told her that the next dance would be me.

The DJ looked like a bald meth-head and had a throaty voice that reminded me of Wolfman Jack. “Oh yeah, that’s Angelica. She’s rough and ready and out on the prowl for someone to dance for! Oh yeah, now here comes Stevie! Yeah, Baby! She’ll show you how it’s done! And don’t forget, guys! Tipping isn’t just a city in China!”

I didn’t get to see the next girl who got on stage. I did watch Angelica stand up, stick her ass out towards us and bend over. It seemed she was intentionally spreading her ass cheeks and letting us look at it while she squatted down and collected her money.

I found it interesting that she was so stingy about not actually dancing while she was on stage, but then at the end, she’d basically let us look at her ass crack while she had her back to us. I wasn’t sure if she was aware that I could see the hint of dark-colored flesh around her anus when she did that.

Lacey was already on top of me. She faced me. The stripper had pretty blue eyes and a cut-gapped front tooth. One of her front teeth overlapped the others. Her smile was imperfect, but it still seemed sexy. I could picture her nibbling on my dick like a beaver.

She put her knee on my crotch and smiled. An old pop song, “All about that Bass, no Treble” by Meghan Trainor, played.

I did not enjoy the dance. Her knee applied pressure to my dick, and in a way, we were connecting, but it was far from even how enjoyable it was when Brunna sat on my lap in the car. The way my Aunt had casually mentioned the two of them giving me lap dances made me visualize Brunna dancing for me.

She’d have been giggling and singing along to the song. “I can shake it, shake it like I am supposed to do!”

“Turn around and let him see that booty,” Gloria said.

Lacey complied and placed her hands on the armrests of my chair. She kept a six-inch distance from my crotch and danced by bending low as if she were sitting in the chair while I was in it and shimmying her chest back and forth slowly.

“She says, boys like a little more booty to hold at night (That booty, booty, uh, that booty, booty), And no I won’t be no stick-figure, silicone Barbie doll (shoo-wop, wop),” the song had a catchy rhythm that got stuck in my head. I still associate that first song with that place when I think about my first trip to a strip club.