Previous Chapter Back to Content & Review of this story Next Chapter Display the whole story in new window (text only) Previous Story Back to List of Newest Stories Next Story Back to BDSM Library Home

Review This Story || Author: Amanda Serve

Family Feud IV

Chapter 8 Bill’s Journal –Cheese Burger In Paradise


The Family Feud IV

Chapter Eight

Bill’s Journal –Cheese Burger In Paradise


STAR COUNT:

WENDY: 51

Get out of jail cards: 1

WHORE: 5,3,0,0,1

JAMIE: 59

Get out of jail cards: 1

WHORE: 4,3,0,0,0


**Note to reader: This is Bill’s journal from Sunday afternoon detailing the events of approximately 3pm when he is leaving the Flea Market. In order to increase readability, some of the dialogue exchanged was altered to appear in a ‘narrative’ story format.


Wouldn’t it be really funny if all of us were keeping journals about the same events and none of us knew the others were doing it?


I think Jamie and Wendy have been typing on their phones and I don’t think they are instant messaging. I’ve been looking the other way but maybe at some point I’ll collect those phones and then I’ll have all this humiliating blackmail written by them about the things they have done.


It sure would make interesting reading to some pervert who found bits and pieces. I am not sure if they would enjoy mine because people probably want to know what is going on in the girls’ head. All the internet fiction I ever read usually is written from that point of view. You think people give a shit about what someone who goes to all the trouble to set everything is thinking?


I guess not. Then again if they are reading this then maybe so.


It is not hurting anything if they are keeping journals of this experience anyway. My son keeps trying to talk to me while I formulate my thoughts about what I want to put into this fucking journal and I want to spend time with him but god-damnit, will the boy ever shut up?


He wants to know if we are going to handcuff the bitches to the dumpster when we get to Wendy’s? Hell my wife practically ASKED me to do it by suggesting we go back there. I can’t very well disappoint that twisted bitch now can I?


Besides, I love that Baconator and it is close so it fits right into my plans. I’ve got to hand that cunt over to Van Pewterschmidt today when we get home - that is fine by me, I am not jealous. I just want him to know I got the better sister and she is mine. The only reason she will be sucking his cock is I told her to do it and she obeys me like a good little whore.


The girls did really good today. I am actually proud of them. My wife has proven she can be strong and submissive and that isn’t something I thought a high powered vice president like her couldn’t do. I bet she will call me and request a change of skirt tomorrow when she shits herself finding out what I have planned for her at work, ha-ha.


I hate it when people write “lol”. Call me old fashioned but a “Ha-ha” works just fine because I don’t really believe they laughed out loud. I believe they were sitting there stone faced and thought it was funny and said “Lawl” in their head at the end of their sentence.


Listen to me jabbering like Chris after he has had too many ‘Pepsies’. That boy can talk – he is counting up all the stars and everything they earned so far. By my calculations, we don’t have enough time to even make it to this weekend before they graduate and earn all their stars and I have to let them out of the discipline.


Every time I think about this weekend I get depressed. Wendy wants to send me out to the internet users group meeting because I was planning it for months. I have tried to convince her (and myself) that I don’t want to go.


The thing I haven’t told her is that when we moved out and stayed at that motel, the guy locked up all my stuff for not paying rent. I am a guy so other than a change of underwear, what did I take when I walked out? My old football trophies and stuff and without the game tape I won’t be able to make Graymalkin eat crow at the users conference.


Why else go to a boring internet forum convention if not to make the guy you argue with about sports eat his words?


I want to go but only if I can do that. We are going to be lucky if we can make our house, car, credit card, light bill and whatever else Wendy didn’t tell me we owe when she let me take back over the bills. She knows I hate numbers.


I thought I was doing pretty good buying all that bullshit, but what good is different colored paddles and spreader bars going to do next week when these fucking cunts get all their stars and we don’t own them anyway?


At least I’ve got a brand new computer with a Nvidia 570 graphics card. You know what? I may just give Chris the better computer and I keep the one I have. He plays all the games like counter strike and I don’t really have the reflexes for those FPS games like he does.


He has earned it by really stepping up and acting like a man. I am not talking about just the past two weeks where he got to boss around his mom and sister. He took our moving out like a man and stuck by my side through thick and thin. He believed in me all the way when no one else really did. I used to think he was a dummy with a short attention span and that is why. He just didn’t know I was a loser and he was too stupid to leave. I was wrong about him and I was wrong about myself- Bill Taylor is a winner!


Oh fuck, I almost ran that red light. I need to stop trying to write this journal while I drive.


Okay, I am back, where was I? Oh yeah, everyone impressed me today.


My wife - she has become more submissive but still strong when she needs to be. She is compassionate and giving and she has sucked up every punishment and humiliation I can throw at her and even cracked jokes at times. She said something funny when she was at Ryang’s about a broom, but I can’t remember it now. I remember thinking it was clever at the time.


My son – speaking of clever, what can I say? That boy has his shortcomings but he has become a man and I am definitely going to give him the better computer. I still have mine and it plays all the games I enjoy. I have to be rational and logical about it and it’s not about ego. It just works out that it will be his.


Besides, he is going to need something to play with when he can’t play with his sister’s titties anymore.


My daughter – Well she is full of surprises! Today I tried to get her to tell me why she said ‘That was fun’ back at the t-shirt place. She genuinely sounded like she meant it and was not just doing sarcasm or gallows humor. She has a tendency to look on the bright side all the time anyway so that could be what passes for sarcasm when it comes out of her sweet little mouth.


I didn’t really pay enough attention to her to know what kind of sense of humor she has. She had become so much like her mom and she was always away at ballet, cheerleading, honors society and so on that I just didn’t worry about her. I didn’t get to know her either and I kind of regret that because now that I am seeing her blossom into a woman it is as my slave.


I fucked my daughter in the ass today.


I fucked my daughter in the ass today.


God damnit, another fucking red light. If we get pulled over, I am going to have a tough time explaining those two cunts on all fours in the back.


Okay, now I’m not going to win father of the year. I have spanked her, made her play with herself, suck me off and punished in her ways that unless I re-read the journal I may not even remember but I felt like maybe I crossed a threshold today when I stuck my dick into that sweet little asshole of hers.


I can’t help but picture a clean, pink tunnel that is invitingly asking me to stick my dick into it. There is something so taboo about owning a woman where she poops. I can’t forget the Sam Kinison routine “You can touch me here, and here, and here, and there, but NOT THERE!!!!”


I’ve got to show that to Chris some time. That kid has the internet, he has probably already seen it – classic.


Anyway, yes I was thinking about how far Jamie came today and I ended up beating myself up for plugging her asshole. It has been on my mind all day and I don’t’ really have anyone I can unload on. I could tell Chris but then he may think I am weak?


Men don’t talk about feelings and all that other bullshit – he needs to learn that. I don’t even feel comfortable writing a journal about my internal monologue but I think I’ve evolved over the last few weeks and I should take stock of my thoughts.


Okay, you know that is bullshit. I have grown and change in the last few months but I am not going to lie to myself.


I’ve just got to brag about how fucking awesome it is when everything FITS INTO PLACE! Chris already knows and if I go telling everyone all the details of everything it might just bite me in the ass so this is the one place I can be completely fucking honest.


So yeah, I admit it. Wouldn’t you want to tell someone if your wife and daughter were your obedient little whores?



I am just going to keep acting like it is no big deal I fucked Jamie because if Wendy or Jamie was going to stop this they would have today. They are both completionists and if I keep my end of the deal they will keep their ends up in the air for me and Chris to kick until the 100th

star.


I thought Jamie was going to stand up to me right before we left Flea World. She spoke up and after she went over all the many ways she had been spread and buttered and mostly at my order I thought about backing down. That is the old Bill and I’ve got to be like Ryang. He doesn’t look like he ever doubts himself.


He had his teenage daughter under some kind of discipline and I bet that girl won’t be able to earn her way out with stars or anything like that. Then again I like giving them a goal to strive towards to prove they have been reformed and paid their dues. I want to go back there again and bring a copy of my rules for Ryang to read. I bet he’ll think I am crazy for putting so much thought into it.


I can’t help but think about me even though I started out trying to take stock of the changes in my family. I know I’ve changed at least on the outside. I feel like everyone in the family just accepts me as the leader and doesn’t question me and I want to keep that going for as long as I can. The key is not to let them know you have self-doubts.


It was so much easier when I didn’t get so introspective. I didn’t have so much to lose when I accepted I was out of work, out of shape, out of touch and losing my hair. I would just jack off during the day to some porn and watch a little TV, play a few computer games. I feel like now if anyone finds out I am not the bad-ass I let on to be, then will I lose everything I gained as head of my household?


Then again maybe this is how all leaders feel at some point – like a fraud who just lucked into their position. I bet even President Obama wakes up and says, “I am not even from this Country, how can I keep tricking these people into thinking I know what I am doing?”


I bet if Graymalkin saw me write that he would have some bleeding heart liberal crap to say about George Bush.

I haven’t even checked the forums (much) since this training has started and you know what?


Oh damn, there is Wendy’s. I’ll pull right in front so that the people inside will see the bitches getting off the back of the truck.


“You got the handcuffs, son?”


“Do Murlocs go warraggarrabbbllllll?” Chris answered.


“I guess they do.” I knew he was talking about World of Warcraft but I like to play it cool like I am above all that joking stuff most of the time. We took our time getting out of the truck so they could anticipate what we are going to do. I like to let the two of them talk it out. I could gag them but then they can’t make each other wet with anticipation, ha-ha.


You see I didn’t write Lol? Fuck Lol and fuck people who say Lol when they are writing a journal.


“You two cunts hungry?”


I actually wasn’t all that hungry but I knew Chris probably was.


“Yes Sir” Came their answer almost in unison. They’ve got the psychic powers of god-damned twins at times.


“Well then get your fat asses off the truck.” I made the two of them jump off the back of the truck in broad day light in front of the fast food chain because it amuses me to see their tits bounce. I didn’t realize I’d have the added pleasure of the weight on their clit rings causing them discomfort when they landed.


“Oh quit your bitchen, we’re hungry.” I led them over to the dumpster as if that was a forgone conclusion and they followed like little lemmings ready to walk off a cliff.


“You know why you two dumpster bitches have to wait out here don’t you?”


“Yes Sir, Taylor men rule and Taylor women drool.” Wendy was the first one to answer and I smiled (just slightly, I don’t want her thinking it is that easy to impress me.)


“You are finally learning, now hand over your skirt Cow Tits.” My wife didn’t hesitate to step out of her little mini skirt.


“Ass face you can take your shirt off, and stand their naked since you don’t have a skirt.” I was lying, I had brought her extra skirt home but she was still wearing that hilarious ‘milk-milk’ shirt.


“Sir, if my slut daughter is naked can I also remove my top before you cuff us to the dumpster?”


“Who said I was going to cuff you to the dumpster?”


She knew better than to anticipate my orders. I could see the look in her eyes that she knew she ‘dun goofed’. “I am just fucking with you bitch. Yes you can get naked, and yes we are going to cuff you to the dumpster.” See? I can joke when I want too.


I had them hug each other tightly, wearing only their heels and collars, and then cuffed their arms around each other so they were locked in an embrace.


“Hang around” I joked again.


“Dad, I did that joke already today.” Chris laughed at me


“Oh, they say when you get old two things start to go. Your memory and I can’t remember the other thing.” I think I’ve told him that before but I can’t remember, lol.


Oh shit, I meant ha-ha, anyway.


We left the two love-birds hugging outside and I went in to see if Reggie, the kid who had come outside and fucked my wife the last time I was here, was working. If my memory is so bad, why is it I can remember the kid’s name and exactly what it looked like when he brought that chocolate dick in and out of my wife’s face and the look of complete subjugation in her eyes as she looked to me for approval for being such a nasty whore.


I had meant to give them a little speech about having to learn team work and that is why I left them out hugging each other tit to tit but I was too excited to see if Reggie was working.


Chris and I approached the counter and ordered Baconator meals for ourselves and Jr. cheeseburgers for them.


“Let’s get a water for them to share with two straws.” Chris liked to make suggestions and I liked to agree with them. The truth is, I usually didn’t care about details like this. We made a great team because he liked to think up insidious little humiliations that might not sound like much but when you do them all day long to someone, they really are probably very grueling. I would not know, but I’ll ask my wife when this is all over, ha-ha!


(See I didn’t forget that time, I am 40, not senile!)


I asked if Reggie was working but he wasn’t there, which was disappointing. Now I was going to have to pick some other teenage kid to have his mind blown by my daughter and wife.


Chris and I ate and made small talk about what we were going to do. I told him to scan the place for someone who works there that we could bring back to the dumpster to fuck with them.


“You think with all they have been through, they’ll be as worried about what one stranger thinks?” Chris had a good point. Last week, yes they were in tears and all a flutter, but after getting electrocuted on stage, this may be anti-climatic.


“We could just go home and leave them at the dumpster for a few hours.”


“Dad, you are a fucking sadist!” Chris almost choked on his Dr. Pepper.


“Still mixing every flavor of soda in your drink?”


He smiled, “I haven’t done that since I was six!” as he took another drink.


It is funny the things you remember so well from the past and the things your brain won’t let you hang on to that just happened.


“Well we could just go out there and hand-feed them then.” I told my son


“You make it sound like that is boring.” Chris answered with a smirk on his face.


“Hey, I don’t know how long before your mom and sister earn their freedom, so we should probably enjoy it while we can.” I told him, taking another juicy bite of a delicious double-burger with extra cheese and bacon.


“You don’t want this to end do you, Dad?” Chris asked me.


Here we go, now we are talking about ‘feelings’ and I told you already I was trying to teach him that isn’t how men do it.


Then again I was curious what he thought too, “Who would want it to end? Your mom and sister sucking our dicks, cleaning the house, can’t tell us what to do.”


“What if we came to them and told them we didn’t want it to end?” Chris sounded serious.


“I think they would say what I asked your sister when she told me she wanted something -How does it feel to want?” I laughed out loud.


“How about if we came to them and told them we’d let them out of the 100 stars early, if they will agree to some permanent rules around the house about us being the boss, and treating us with respect.” Chris asked.


“Go on?” I was intrigued. This was not feelings talk, this was planning!


“We could write up a whole new set of rules, that aren’t nearly as hard. Jamie and Mom have to be naked at home and call us Sir, but they can sleep in their own beds, and they can still be spanked for insubordination but no more hog tying and Waxerman enemas.”


“Oh c’mon? If we are going to do this, surely we have to put in a clause that when that wrinkled old bitch shows up they have to strip down and go to code white.” I absolutely love seeing them at code white where they have to push Waxerman’s buttons and make her think they are these wicked bitches who deserve punishment. I should have told Jamie to go to code white today when I was talking to Ryang. He didn’t’ seem to think she had done enough to warrant her treatment, at least at first. I will have to remember to use those codes more often.


“How about if we compromise with them? When Waxerman comes over some of the time, you and I go into code white and act like we are constipated and beg for the enema and then the other half they have to do it?” He asked.


I was perplexed and I looked at my son for a long time before taking another savory bite of my Baconator. “Son, they haven’t even heard our demands and you are already compromising with them? Do you have any idea how painful those enemas probably are?”


“That is my point exactly! They would respect us more if we endured them too. Then we’d have a better appreciation for how bad they have it, and they’d know we wouldn’t sentence them to things that even we wouldn’t endure.”


I never heard him ask to mow the grass in close to eighteen years. He was now asking to get naked in front of Mrs. Waxerman and be treated like the girls?


“Son, we did get a taste of what we are giving them? Don’t you remember when your mom used to make us dance around the living room and slap our dicks together?”


He hushed me because I was talking a little louder than I thought I was. I was thankful considering the old woman nearest to us in the dining room, gave me a dirty look. “You said yourself today that Jamie endured more in one day today with electrocutions and all that than we did for the month of our training.”


“You have a good point Son, and I’ll think about that but what you may be forgetting is your sister has probably been kicked out of school. What am I going to do with her if we go to this new, kinder rules?”


“You’ll still be the boss at home. It’s just she won’t have to be in the backyard barking like a dog with Rosco.”


“You don’t want to see her in the dog house with Roscoe?” I asked him skeptically.


“Okay, that would be funny!” He smiled, “But if we don’t make the offer soon then they won’t have much reason to accept because they are more than half way done.” He reminded me.


“We could slow down the opportunities to get the final stars?” I suggested.


“Don’t you remember bringing that up when we first started that? We talked about some of the things they may try to pull on us to get out of this, like pretending to love everything we did to them so we’d lose interest?” Chris nodded his head up and down as if that would jog my memory. “And then you suggested we’d slow down the stars or even take some back and I told you that would only make them quit trying once they knew the game was rigged?”


I honestly didn’t remember him saying that but that was a good point. My daughter and wife are try-hards who will stick to their guns, but if they knew we cheated they wouldn’t feel obliged to continue to play.


“Your mom has some surprises in store for her at work tomorrow, I worked really hard to set those up and I can’t picture her reverting back to normal there.” I explained.


“She has to go back to normal some time?” Chris asked.


“Nah, she is probably going to get fired before long and have to find another job. Then she could go back to normal but your mom has been a hard core slut at work and there is no way she can stop without all the handlers blackmailing her to stick with it.”


“Wait, I thought mom had the exact same rules at work as Jamie does at school?”


“No, I let her trade a few rules around. In a business environment if she called people Sir and Ma’am as their boss they would find that weird or demeaning at best. So in return I had her step things up around work.” That was true, but there was much more to it than that. I had made an unwritten deal with Wendy that she had to be a total slut at work and purposely get less stars than Jamie and in exchange, I would not fuck Jamie or make it so brutal on her. Wendy was going to have to finish last after her daughter so that we did not take out our frustrations on Jamie alone as part of the deal.


Chris can’t know about the deal because then he will think I am not being equal with him and he wouldn’t trust me but it is better for everyone this way (except Wendy I guess).


I just realized that Wendy’s memory must be bad too because I fucked my daughter up the ass today and she didn’t say that the deal was off. Then again she IS a woman and she never forgets anything. It was possible that they had come so far in their training, my wife realized it was an inevitability this would happen, but my mind was reeling with possibilities.


“Listen, we should probably go check on them. You kept their cheeseburgers warm?” I asked my son.


He produced two kid sized cheeseburgers he had been sitting on the entire time we were talking, “Right here”


I grabbed some cold fries and their drink (since they were going to share it) and asked, “Did you season them with your special cheese?”


He lifted a butt cheek to rip another fart and agreed, “You know I did”. Then he took a bite out of one which made me just shake my head.


He was grinning as we walked out to check on the girls.


They were huddled together naked the way I had left them and as far pulled back as they could be from the dumpster. There is something so erotic about two beautiful naked women handcuffed together in an embrace outside with their muscles taut and a sheen of fear sweat glistening off their bodies.


I just made the connection that I think I like dominating a woman’s asshole because it is a taboo thing you are told you cannot or should not do (by women who don’t want you to do it to them). With the fact, this is a mother and her daughter in the embrace.

There is something that makes their hugging each other cheek to cheek and tit to tit, naked outside, handcuffed and vulnerable that much sweeter. It is the same idea of taboo that most women aren’t going to do it (even though they would with other women).


Then again I did NOT like the taboo of being tied up next to my son.


As we approached the dumpster I had the uneasy feeling the girls weren’t just trying to stay as far as away from the rotten dumpster smell as possible. I had visions of a crazed homeless man with a knife holding them hostage and they being too scared for their own lives to warn us as we walked up.


It was just a raccoon skittering around their feet that was sending them in a helpless tizzy, ‘Oooh eek! Get it Sir!’ okay they didn’t say ‘eek’ but they were freaking out about it.


“You think he prefers the stink of your rotten piss holes to his dumpster?” I laughed at them and chased him away with the jangle of my keys. “What would you two dumb cunts do if you didn’t have us to take care of you?”


I was kidding but my wife agreed and said “Thank you Sir, you saved us twice today.”


“Twice?” I replied skeptically


“Yes Sir, just now and when we were on the electric chair. Thank you for being our white knight!”


“The way I remembered it, you two were flashing your tits on an electric chair when you should have been turning tricks. I punished you by having him up the settings and shock the shit out of you. You were giving little glimpses and glances up your precious skirts but I made you expose yourself like the little tramps you are. Do you cunts need an affirmation or are you ready to stop babbling and eat?” I thought that sounded pretty good.


“Can we do both Sir? It has been a while since my last affirmation.” Wendy and Jamie were getting energized from the affirmations and saw them as a regular ritual. Do you know I got the idea from Stuart Smalley, “I am good enough, I am smart enough and dammit, people like me.” I didn’t have the heart to tell them the technique that worked so well in making them think about the things they say and do and reinforces their training started out as a bad Saturday Night Live skit.


My son was holding two half-eaten Jr. cheeseburgers and he tag-teamed back into the conversation, “Let me butter their bread first, Dad. Are you two bitches thankful we saved you some delicious fast food?” He held it under their nose tempting them with the smell (but not mentioning he farted on them before we left).


“Yes Sir, it is better than bitches like us deserve.” My wife answered him. I decided to get out my cell phone camera to record this one.


“Damn, skippy it is,” Chris licked the palm of his hand and wiped it on the buns and then stuffed a cheeseburger between the cracks of their ass. “Butt-ter that bread, you two tight asses better clench because if it hits the ground you’ll be eating it from there.”


They are no strangers to eating off the floor, but usually they have polished our kitchen tile to a mirror shine. The pavement around the dumpster looked pretty disgusting. The girls tightened their ass cheeks to hold the burgers without complaint. I call them fat-asses all the time but if perfect asses magazine had a mother-daughter issue then they could be their cover girls.


I am pretty sure there is probably a ‘perfect asses magazine’ – but if not there should be. Who buys their porn in magazines these days? Idiots.


Chris hand fed the girls cold fries by putting one in Wendy’s mouth and having Jamie nibble it down until their lips were touching and we alternated between them.


“Were you two scared of the w’ttle raccoon?” Chris asked them both and they nodded vigorously. “So if I check your cunts they won’t be wet from the excitement?”


Jamie was the first to admit “Mine might be sir.”


Wendy was second, “Mine is, but you can’t say it’s from the raccoon. I am standing outside naked next to a dumpster, Sir.” she made a good case but it only made us laugh at how pathetic she sounded.


The parking lot was busy and someone might have heard us talking behind the vanity wall that surrounds the dumpster but I was having too much fun. I was glad Reggie wasn’t with us because even though I get off on strangers reactions to my sluts I think we needed a little family fun time. I let the two of them share a cold drink of water by holding it up to their face.


“Thank you Master” Wendy surprised me with that title.


“I am your Master now am I?”


“You are my owner, my pimp, and my husband Sir. You have been our teacher, our protector and when we are bad our disciplinarian. I think you deserve the title of Master.” Jamie agreed with her mother and said it too.


Chris pulled a French fry out of Jamie’s mouth, “What about me?”


“You are my owner, pimp and Master too, Sir.” Wendy added.


“That wasn’t nearly as long and well thought out as the one you gave Dad,” He slapped her ass cheek nearly causing her to drop the burger she was holding to eat when we gave her permission. I had to admit the boy had a point.


“You are my owner, pimp, and my son Sir. You have taught me so many things I didn’t realize I had to learn, and when we are bad you don’t let us continue in that behavior without strong discipline. I am your three-hole slut and property Son, and I thank you for the attention and supervision you give me and my slut daughter.”


“That is much better, but you still aren’t getting the cheeseburger before I think it’s cooked enough between your ass cheeks.” He smirked.


There was a trace of smile on her curled lips even though they take the affirmations very seriously. I knew she thought that was funny. I love my wife’s smile. It is so cute it reminds me of Jamie Lee Curtis when she flashes her dimples and it looks like she is trying to contain her laughter with it by holding her mouth closed.


What was your favorite part about today, Cow Tits?” My son asked an interesting question and I was curious to hear her answer.


“Serving you Master” Wendy answered like a sexy vixen. I probably would have accepted that answer on face value because it was hot. Chris slapped her on the back of the leg and grabbed her by the back of the neck, “You had better take this affirmation seriously, because I am not out here to smell this rotten garbage, let’s hear a proper answer.”


I was surprised he seemed to be sending a mixed message that it was okay for him to joke around but not her. Then again, maybe it was just the degree of seriousness he was allowing where a little joking was okay but if she was going to vamp and not give straight answers he had to smack her back in line – smart kid.


“I am sorry Master. Can you more clearly define what you mean by favorite?” Chris looked at her with a helpless shrug when she asked him that. Wendy clarified “Do you mean, what would I like to do again, or what was the most exciting and I am glad I faced it but now that it is over it is better as a memory, or what, Sir?”


Chris nodded “What part was the most fun and you would like to do again?”


Wendy thought about it while nibbling her fry, “Being a dumpster bitch at Wendy’s and waiting for my two strong Masters to come outside and save me from the raccoon, Sir?”


I believed her but Chris may have been looking for another answer. He posed the same question to his sister.


“I guess I already said what was the most fun is when I was serving Chao in exchange for my nose-ring, Sir.”


I was surprised the girls had accepted the chains and extra piercings without putting up much of a fight. I thought we would have to go through the same family meeting time-outs we did when they got their last ones. Chris asked her to describe specifically what was so interesting about it.


I kind of wanted the nose ring, but once I saw the tongue stud that looked like a tiny little cock I just knew it was perfect. I bet they didn’t see that one coming?


We can do nose rings another time – I knew those cunts wouldn’t be satisfied unless they suffer equally and if Jamie has school and for Wendy to work, the nose rings are probably too over the top. Then again just listening to them lisp like children and the silver cock stud flash when they open their mouths to talk is going to be fun.


I think we’ve humiliated them in how they look quite a bit and with what they say, but if you want to assault all their senses then how people hear them is yet another way.


Jamie answered her brother’s question about Chao, “He was very gentle with me, and he looked into my eyes longingly like I was the only woman in the world. It was very intense to be wanted so much. He licked my asshole and I begged him to fuck me there but he seemed reluctant to give me pain or discomfort and he truly wanted to serve my needs no matter how much I tried to serve his. It was a refreshing change for me, Sir.”


I probably should have ‘probed her’ more to get this answer out of her when she originally said ‘That was fun’ but I had already ‘probed her’ once today, ha-ha!


“Should men want to serve your needs?” Chris asked


“All men are my betters because they are born with cocks instead of piss flaps.” She answered by rote because we had been drilling that in her head since we started. Then she added, “I think if he really gets pleasure out of trying to give pleasure I shouldn’t deny him.”


“Spoken like a true brat – justifying his tending to your needs while you don’t tend to his own.” Chris started but then added, “But given the client wanted it, you did the right thing by offering and sucking his dick. I am glad to see you are a piss drinker now. Who wants to earn an E?”


They both did naturally and beamed at the possibility of one of his contests. My wife is pretty savvy and normally skeptical about agreeing to something before knowing what the contest rules will be – the exception is when competing against her daughter. Their friendly rivalry only makes the contest that much more sweet. Even I was excited wondering what Chris had in mind.


“Here, hold on to these and don’t chew. I’ll be right back.” Chris lifted the cheeseburgers from their cheeks and then inserted the one that had been warming in Wendy’s ass flaps into his sister’s mouth and vise verse. They made pretty cute gags, reminded me of that duck whistle thing Ryang had. I need to get one of those, have I said that already?


Chris and I closed the dumpster gate and went back inside the burger joint for a second cup of water. I called behind me, “Don’t go anywhere now!” cutely mocking the two naked sluts cuffed to the metal dumpster.


Chris added some ice to both cups and filled them about 10% full with orange soda. We took our time looking around the restaurant to give the girls some time to wonder what the contest would be. I asked Chris while we waited, “Your sister has to draw one correction when we get home, is that the only one we have?”


“Yeah unfortunately. As usual they were both such good bitches they didn’t earn anything besides low level infraction punishments.” Chris smirked “We are too good to them!”


We fist bumped and I added “Bro’s before ho’s’” before returning to the girls. Chris gave them permission to eat while he explained the rules. They had been staring into each other’s eyes the whole time in some kind of staring contest. I had forgotten they couldn’t talk because they had cheeseburgers shoved in their mouths like duck bills. They were both trying to keep a straight face and not drop them as they ate slow enough to keep the burger in place.


“The contest rules are simple. You just have to drink a cup of orange soda the fastest.” They almost seemed disappointed that there wasn’t more to it. They couldn’t say anything but I saw it in their faces.


“Oh drat, I didn’t fill the cups all the way. I don’t feel like walking back, so you girls are going to supply some lemonade to fill the cups up to the brim and make it a fair contest. You cunts know how to make lemonade don’t you?”


I was thinking, “Life certainly has given you all enough lemons.” but I didn’t say it. It sounded like something corny Wendy would say.


We had them continue to hug and eat but keep their legs spread apart past their shoulders width. In retrospect I like them in this position instead of standing huddled together anyway. Chris tickled his mother’s asshole playfully which almost made her drop her burger and then we put the cups under their pussies like we were waiting for a 50 cent cup of hot chocolate to pour out of one of those old automatic vending machines that made it for you. “You can piss now but don’t make fudge or spill any on my hands or you WILL lick it up.”


The girls were half-smiling and half groaning with the burgers stuffed in their mouth. Even if the tongue rings were sensitive I really didn’t care and I was hoping it was fucking with their taste buds to keep them a little confused.


They hadn’t had a chance to even agree to the rules of the contest but it seemed like a forgone conclusion they were going to have to play along with it. If either one of them didn’t want to drink, that would end the game anyway.


Chris watches them piss every day in the litter box but it isn’t one of my favorite things supervising their bathroom habits. I didn’t really get the fascination, but watching the stream pulse out of my daughters tight little pussy from who knows where up inside her like a little jet of golden water was getting me hard. I think if any red-blooded heterosexual added to the fact she was completely naked and vulnerable with her legs spread wide apart, they would be getting aroused too.


Come to think of it, I bet lesbians would be turned on by the sight of my two little sluts hugging and trying to piss while eating burgers with just their mouth in the nude. I think there is something universally erotic about the helplessness and the raw sexuality of it all that transcends the fact she was just peeing in a cup.


I probably don’t even do the scene justice but I will never forget the way it looked, and the looks in their eyes, my wife’s pretty green eyes, with just a tiny trace of laughter lines starting around the edges, and my daughter’s bright baby blues.


Jamie’s hamburger had finally dropped when she reached the last little bit of the crust (Which if I remember correctly, as a little girl she never ate anyway when she got them in happy meals). Her mom was still working on the rest of her bun. I detected a slight sense of satisfaction she had enough mouth control to soldier on.


“Sorry Sir, for wasting the rest of my burger.” She gulped now that she had let it drop.


“What do you mean waste? You’ll finish it after the contest.” Chris could be one stone cold motherfucker when he wanted to be. I don’t mean literally, because I don’t think he has actually fucked his mother or his sister yet, even though he has had them suck his dick. He better get over his shyness real soon or they may stop playing our game!


When we were sure they had both finished pissing, Chris poured the two cups back and forth to mix their juices until they were of equal amounts and for a final measure drew back a big gob of spit and hocked into both cups.


He sealed them with a plastic lid, added a straw and asked, “You girls ready to race”.


I was shocked to hear the grate slide open, someone was coming in the dumpster and I didn’t have a fall back plan to cover the girls. That was my own poor planning and I regretted it instantly. I had been enjoying playing it loose and on the edge and taking a risk. I think everyone was cool with that. This could be a cop or the store manager – it wasn’t though.


It was Reggie, the black teenager who had seen us here before, pulling a garbage can out to the dumpster.


“Crackers be crazy!” He announced as he walked into the middle of our contest.


“Reggie, I thought you weren’t working today!”


“I just got here, y’all were here a week ago right?”


“You get a lot of crackers locking their wives and daughters to your dumpster do you?” Chris asked sarcastically. It did seem pretty unlikely to me he would have forgotten us and not been sure we were the same people.


“You’d be surprised what I see out here and in my neighborhood.” I might have been, but in the past week, meeting Ryang and Cathy Griffin and learning she had most of her cheer squad wrapped around her pinky by their sweet, teenage clits, I had seen a whole new side of things.


The ‘normal’ people you think are your neighbors, the cop on the beat, the teacher in the school, that kindly old couple walking down the street might just have a tub full of bondage and submission sex tubs under their bed. I was very surprised to see Buddy Miller at the pool party yesterday running around in a speedo, following his daughter and Cathy Griffin around the pool like he was crazy for teenage pussy. I am sure I am not the only one who noticed my sluts weren’t the only ones at the party raising eyebrows (and cocks).


“You want to stay? My mom and sister were about to have a competition who could drink their piss the fastest”


“I’ll pass” He said as he pulled the plastic garbage can inside the dumpster with us.


“They’ll suck your dick after” Chris promised sweetly.


“I’ll stick around.”


I think I was the only one who caught how funny that was that he answered so quickly.


“Okay, this is for an E, whichever of you two twats can finish the cup first wins!”


“Reggie, you want to hold my daughter’s cup?” I asked the kid. He smiled and shrugged taking the cup and putting it up to her mouth. My daughter wrapped her lips around the straw like it was some kind of dick. ‘Showing off for the black guy’ I thought to myself snarkily (Good thing I didn’t say it out loud!)


Chris held his mom’s cup and gave them a count on 3. ‘3-2….peanut butter’ he announced hoping he’d catch one of them anticipating the 1 count. They didn’t fall for it and they both smiled at each other. This wasn’t the first time he had tried that trick on them - The bitches were learning.


‘3-2-1’ They were off slurping. My daughter scrunched her nose which is a no-no normally, but given the acrid piss in the cup, I was willing to let it slide. I normally don’t let her make faces like that but in truth it is kind of hot. It reminds me of one of my first crushes and the look she gave me when I tried to touch her on the butthole, ha-ha!


I started to think the two cunts were purposely drinking at the same rate in order to force some kind of tie. I was relieved to see it was just that they were both furiously sucking up their lemonade soda.


“My daughter the piss drinker, I never thought I’d see it.” I shook my head and Jamie spit with laughter. I expected her to react more negatively to having to drink piss than she was. I wasn’t going to look too deeply into it considering she was smiling like a slut champion at the piss drinking Olympics who just won the silver medal.


“No fair, Sir! You made me laugh.” Her mom didn’t stop sucking while Jamie commiserated her spit-take. She just looked at her daughter and kept her eye on the prize.


“You betta’ stop talking and start sucking” Reggie coached my daughter and she put her lips back around the straw and continued drinking the pee-cup he held for her. Reggie had a serious expression on his face which only made it seem more surreal and humorous to me.


“And the winner of Wendy’s Piss Like a Champion Contest is Mom, by a nose hair!” Chris held his mother’s cup over her head and turned it upside down letting only a little yellow ice fall out to prove she had finished it all. My wife accepted the accolade with one of those expressions that is both gracious but smirking at the same time like ‘Oh well, I just won a contest’.


Reggie turned my daughter’s cup over her head drenching her with the last remaining ten percent of her cup and splattering a little on all of us (including himself). “Was I not supposed to do that?”


“Actually, that seems like exactly what you were supposed to do.” My son told him and then asked, “So which one of these two sluts do you want to blow you first?”







































Review This Story || Author: Amanda Serve
Previous Chapter Back to Content & Review of this story Next Chapter Display the whole story in new window (text only) Previous Story Back to List of Newest Stories Next Story Back to BDSM Library Home