Family Feud IV

The Family Feud IV

Chapter Twenty-Five
Wendy’s Journal: Kiss the Frog

**Note to reader: This is Wendy’s journal from Wednesday approximately 9am. She finds herself tied up behind the Cabana she worked in the night before. In order to increase readability, some of the dialogue exchanged was altered to appear in a ‘narrative’ story format.

CASH EARNINGS WEDNESDAY

WENDY: $0

JAMIE: $0

I don’t remember falling asleep last night. I waited a long time for the guys to come back with a smile and say ‘Only kidding’ and take me down but another part of me knew they were headed home and leaving me naked, vulnerable and tied up to the back of a motel was fair-game.

I’ve been tied to a tree in the woods once before. I thought because it was in some trees in my neighborhood there was a good chance I’d be discovered. Tied up here to the back of my cabana at Rhajid’s hotel, I am not sure if I am more afraid of someone ravishing me or just making me explain why I am out there. I’ve been ravished many times in the past week and I am starting to get used to the idea – too used to it?

Last night was like a foggy dream, did I really do a two-some to fuck Buford with my daughter and then flaunt all the rules like I didn’t care if I got punished or not? What was I thinking? Was I drunk on some kind of ‘bad-idea’ pill?

Some times when I think about when I was the disciplinarian and I had the guys answering to me, if I wasn’t drunk on power and bad ideas. I can’t really go back and explain why I got so carried away and made them masturbate into a mason jar in front of me. At the time it seemed like a good idea and that I had the right to make them do that, but now I am waking up hot, dirty and groggily opening my eyes to a new day with the sun shining right into my eyes.

I can’t move my arms or my legs, I am totally tethered in place to the wall – I fell asleep in this position spread eagle. I know I would be very sore when I was finally untied but I must have been getting used to it on some level.

As I gathered my wits, it dawned on me that my clit ring felt heavier than usual – like a lead weight pulling down and stimulating me. I imagined one of those sinkers my father used to have to attach to his fishing pole hanging off of the clit ring and dangling as my eyes flickered open from the deep sleep.

Then I looked down and saw a young black kid no older than one of the Waxerman boys hanging from me. He was peeling back my pussy lips and just pulling down with both hands and sort of using me to support his weight. “Oh Good, you awake! She aint Dead!” he announced to one of his friends in a striped shirt who was playing in the dirt nearby.

My eyes were WIDE open – let me tell you! I had gone from groggy and wishing I had coffee to ‘OH SHIT!’ in under 10 seconds. I was still gagged and try as I might to spit it out, I couldn’t force out the nasty cloth with my tongue because it was so well wadded up in my mouth. I wanted to scream but I could only mumble.

“She aint mad I is doing this, I told you!” the boy said over his shoulder to his friend while leaning back and letting his fingers pull on my lips. I didn’t know how long he had been doing this but it was obvious he had become more than familiar with my anatomy. 

“You got some big titties, lady.” His voice was scratchy and he reminded me of a young Michael Jackson from back when he sang “Let me see you shake a tail feather…..” oh, what was that song?  I tried to think of anything besides the fact I was completely helpless to the whims of this young teenage boy and I can’t even beg him to stop PULLING MY PUSSY OFF!

I shook my head no and pleaded with my eyes but he just chuckled, gave a final yank to my labia like it was an uddder and let go to run to his friend. I could see that there were a few Cabanas right behind the ones in the front – and if it were possible these looked even worse than the ones facing the highway because these didn’t have a fresh coat of cheap yellow paint on them. They were weathered and well lived in.

I tried in vain to wriggle my hands out of the plastic ties while he ran over to his friend who was digging in the dirt to talk to him. Even though it was me who was their captive they didn’t expect to find me out here, I felt ashamed and embarrassed like it was my fault that I was showing my entire business to them like this.

It dawned on me if they live behind a motel filled with prostitutes, beggars, drunks and addicts that to them this might not seem all that unusual. They don’t live behind Cherry Lawn’s guarded gate in the suburbs where it would occur to most people to call the law when you see something like this.

“C’mon let’s play helicopter!”  I worked out his name was Dante’ as he tried to get his friend to stop digging.

“No man, I am digging for buried gold.”  Tiontay his friend stubbornly refused while sitting in the dirt playing and ignoring me.

“Shit, their aint no gold down there!” Dante’ declared.

“Dadday friend lost they gold tooth on yesterday, when Dadday knocked it out of him, it round here!” Tiontay declared pragmatically.

“Well, I help you find it, if you play helicopter,” Dante offered and the two stood up and dusted themselves off and walked back over to me like I was their personal pinyata plaything while I shook my head no.

“Oh hush, Helicopter don’t say nothing, unless you can make helicopta sounds?”

I shook my head emphatically yes hoping they would take out the gag.

Dante who was fairly tall for his age reached up and pulled out my gag and threw it in the dirt.

“Pfffet.”  I spit out the taste of filth and lint in my mouth and thanked him.

“Shaddap, Helicopter don’t say nothing til I start it up,” I was clearly breaking the rules of pretend that he held dear and for some reason I was quiet even though I should have been yelling for help.

I had no idea what time it was, but if Bill had said he would call Rahjid when he woke up it was very possible Rahjid had no idea I was even back here.

I felt Dante’s fingers grip my pussy lips again and start to pull and twist – leaning back so that he was putting all his weight on them. I let out a surprised yelp and then Tiontay started turning my nipples “I am starting up the propellers but the engine not comin on.”

“Engine!!” Dante addressed me by looking me in the eye “Come on!!” he demanded.

I don’t know why but I felt compelled to make the motorboat sound of an engine with my lips – which pleased them greatly.  Dante started to spin himself while stretching my pussy lips as hard as he could and Tiontay stood back after he felt my propellers were engaged.

“Make them propeller spin, lady!” Tiontay demanded once he let go of my boobs and while I have no reasonable explanation for why I complied, I started to shake my tits so that my nipple ring spun. I am sure it looked positively

obscene – I am disgusted with myself for even writing that I didn’t refuse to participate. I felt in part I had very little choice in the matter, but also I think if it hadn’t been happening to ME, I might have found the spectacle perversely humorous.

“You making the engine sound like you fartin out ‘yo butt, don’t go Fppppppppppptthh, go more like Vmmmmmmmmmm, and then change gear for me to speed up, like Vmmmmmm….VMMMMMMMMM” Dante instructed and he tugged harder on my pussy and spun himself around when I changed the way I was making the engine noise to appeal to him.

The sun was directly in my eyes, and I was already sweating from the heat and feeling disgusted. This little performance was only adding to my anguish and on top of it I felt myself getting wet. A lot of men I’ve been with think my getting wet is an orgasm but it’s just my brain thinking I may need to use my pussy and its letting the pussy know to lube up.

“You peeing on my fingers?” Dante’ abruptly stopped the helicopter game and I abruptly stopped shimmying my boobs letting them jingle jangle to a stop and making the engine sound for his copter.

“No Sir,” I felt silly calling him sir but I had grown so used to it that it was involuntary – I just did it. I was naked and he was feeling me up but a part of me felt like I couldn’t explain that he had accidentally made me wet – I just could not.

“So what dis is?” he held up his sticky finger for me to see as if he were disappointed in me.

“You really shouldn’t play with me there, Sir um, do you mind getting Rahjid and letting him know I am back here please uh Sir?” I stumbled through my words. My throat was dry and raspy and my voice cracked. I can chalk up saying Sir once to habit but now it was more since I did it once it made sense to stick with it.

“She pee-pee on yo finger?” Tiontay was chuckling when I noticed him scratch his forehead with the shovel – my passport.  He had been digging with my shiny silvered butt plug and my first thought was – my back was against the wall, how did he get it out? My second was ‘Oh my god, the guys paid a lot for the matching set; they are going to crucifix me if the boys run off with it!”

“That’s mine, how did you get that, Sir?” I tried to sound calm but my works trickled out of my mouth in a huff.

“Dis aint yours, dis is mine. I don’t know where yours is!” Tiontay said without a hint of guilt on his face that he knew it was mine.

“Boy, quit lying!” Dante’ demanded of his friend.

“I aint lying!” Tiontay replied.

“You is, you got that out of her dookie hole, you know you did.” Dante’ said sternly and his friend made a ‘shick’ sound by sucking his teeth incredulously as if he gave up on further discussion about it.

“I am tied up against the wall, how did you um?” At first I thought I might find a way to untie myself if I asked this question but as I was in the middle of asking the question that I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer.

“I slid around behind you because Dante’ dared me to kiss your butt!” Tiontay admitted eagerly.

“Did not!” Dante’ declared.

“Did too!” Tiontay said emphatically.

“And you did too, you kissed that white lady right on the butt.” Dante’ smiled cleverly as if he had just tricked his friend into admitting something he shouldn’t have which was followed by another ‘shick’ and an incredulous stare from Tiontay.

“I can’t get down from here by myself, you two don’t feel a little guilty about seeing me like this and touching me?” I thought maybe I would reason with them.

“Do you feel guilty about pissing on my fingers?” Dante’ asked in reply to my question.

I was about to reply to that in the same calm tone when I felt the hot spray of piss on my chest and tits and the two boys started giggling.  “Dante’ you nasty!” his friend said and then I heard a woman call them in the distance.

“We got to go!” the spray of piss stopped abruptly and I could open my eyes again.

“Wait, please leave that um…..” and before I could decide whether to call it a shovel or a plug the two boys were gone leaving me dripping of piss, humiliated and alone.

The quiet of the little row of three houses behind the motel was unsettling now. Time passed very slowly and I had time to reflect on what had just happened and why I did some of the things I did. Journal, by now you know that I am a woman who has 1,000 scenarios going in her head at all times and I am always reading between the lines – and you probably read between my lines at times too.

I stopped trying to second guess myself on how I had behaved – both with those boys and what led to my punishment of being tied to the motel wall. I wasn’t even sure if this WAS punishment – was I just being shelved here until I could be punished for everything I did wrong?

With so much time, I made a mental recap of the things I had better own up to when I see Rahjid;

• I was not going to tell him I encouraged my daughter to over-charge Buford. I remember Bill had pocketed most of it and good for us that he did. However, my daughter is a truth-whore and she is going to want to be honest about that, so I’d have to think more about what to say there.
  
  
• I was going to tell him that we took too long to finish Buford, and say that it was me who tempted my daughter to do that.
  
  
• I was going to admit that we didn’t fill the condoms until the end and only I did that. I wasn’t sure if that means Jamie gets in trouble because of it, but she wouldn’t want me to lie I think.
  
  
• I was going to admit we took out our butt-plugs on our own: we didn’t clean them right away and set them on the bed, and put them in ourselves since I am pretty sure Jamie is going to tell on us about that. I didn’t even think about it last night when I was being grilled by Bill and Chris.

I need to beg Rahjid to punish me good today and maybe get him to even video tape (you know I am from the past generation, because I don’t say just record it) or else I am positive Bill will get irate and probably want to punish Jamie too when she gets here to work night shift.

I wondered if maybe I needed to admit to Rahjid how I handled those boys, was I in the wrong?  Could I be punished for them taking my butt plug? Jamie has this theory that we should just admit what we did and let them decide it if it was wrong or right, but I feel like they can twist anything so it sounds like it’s my fault – no matter the best of intentions.

Then I started to think about the ‘best of intentions’ when I issued the “Taylor Women Declaration of Independence” and started with just trying to send a wakeup call to Bill and Chris that they needed to clean up, get more fit and take their responsibilities seriously – look how that turned out?

I looked around the quiet little row of houses and down at my bare breasts hanging underneath me. The surgery had made them perky like two inflatable balls that are always on point, and now I was truly paying the price for that too. I had walked tall and proud after I got them and thought they helped my career, but what they really helped was my vanity and I should have spent that surgery money on family vacation and trips. Now they are flapping in the breeze, dripping with some kids piss, in part because I was too ashamed to tell him he had made me wet earlier.

He already had his finger in my pie-hole, was I really going to ‘corrupt’ him by telling him what that was doing to me?

I didn’t even want to think about the other one sliding up behind me and planting a smooch on my caboose only to find what he thought was a shovel. Was he really that naïve or did he just have no other frame of reference for what a butt plug was?

These boys had to be fairly street smart growing up here behind Rahjid’s motel.

God damn, I wish someone would come along.

Anyone at all! I’d even be glad to see Mrs. Waxerman right now. The quiet in this neighborhood, as the wind whistles through my legs and air dries the piss to my chest, is weirding me out.

Do I wish someone would come along? What are the chances they are going to help me get down from here? And if they do, will it not be because they expect me to debase and humiliate myself a little more?

You see I told you journal, I am constantly asking myself questions and playing devil’s advocate as I try to process what to do next. I have tried my hardest to be a good little submissive and not hold a thought in my head at times, but I keep going back to my analytical nature and over-thinking things.

“I told you she wuz here.” I don’t know long it had been but I heard Dante’s familiar squeaky voice coming down the dusty little row between Cabanas.

“Hello Sir,” I was actually pleased anyone had come. It had felt like hours against the wall, my muscles ached and

I felt totally rank and disgusting.

“She call you Sir, fo?” a black girl with her hair in tightly braided pig-tails who stood taller than the two of them asked.

“As a sign of respect, Ma’am -I guess it is something I am trying to get used to doing.” I addressed her as she walked slowly into my field of vision. She was wearing a long pink night gown and nothing else while looking up at me with her deep brown eyes as if I were an alien who just crash-landed.

“You is so nasty, to be out here naked like dis” she finally said as if giving her verdict on me.

“You are absolutely right and I really have no excuse, will you tell Rahjid I am back here, because he may have some clothes for me?”

“He is nasty too and I aint yo’ errand bitch!” she sounded a lot more streetwise just then when she said that from her initial reaction to me.

“Okay, that is fair, it’s just if you don’t want me hanging around out here like this, I cannot get down on my own, Ma’am” I decided to try calm reasoned logic once again.

“Aint my biznass what you do,” she had a definite Ayn Rand kind of vision of life of survival of the fittest and look out for your own self. I suppose she would, growing up out here in this urban squalor every day.

“You didn’t say she be so old,” okay I admit when she said that to her brother it slammed right through me like a painful insult. The sides of my mouth curled up into a wintry smile and I just sort of nodded that ‘yes, I am old’ - to someone their age, 40 probably seems like 80.

“Sis, You wanna to see her pee on my finger, Do ya?” Dante’ offered the girl a chance to see as if he was showing off his new Christmas present. He grabbed my clit and lifted the hood with his finger and then separated my lips pulling them both apart and tugging.

“That is so NAASTY!” I was not sure what her name was, but her favorite word seemed to be “Nasty” there was no mistaking that.

“See, look how she pees on my finger when I do the helicopter,” He held up his finger right under his sister’s nose.

“Get that nasty away from me, Dante’. That aint piss, boy that is her woman juice, don’t you know anything?” Nasty said condescendingly to him.

“Him and Trudi Cummings did it under a bridge one time,” his friend Tiontay said in that same tone of voice the Waxerman boys use when they want to embarrass each other by telling a secret.

“Did not,” Dante’ replied.

“You did too” Tiontay said and it was Dante’s turn to make the ‘shick-aw’ sound with his mouth and in his silence end the exchange.

“So what woman juice is then?” Dante’ asked his sister.

“Boy, I aint telling you if you don’t know,” Nasty rolled her eyes and shrugged her shoulders like she knew something he didn’t and she simply wasn’t going to tell him.

“What woman juice is?” Dante’ turned to me when his sister wasn’t talking and I suddenly felt the weight of their stares on me and a sudden warmth of embarrassment. I had learned to accept these questions in front of Mrs. Waxerman and her nephews but it had been a slow progression where I grew to accept the way things were. This was a fresh coat of humiliation because I really didn’t want to explain more than he was ready to know – but then again he had just played with my pussy.

“Are you sure you really want to know, Sir?”  I felt so vulnerable, but tied as I was, with my arms to the side, I felt like a wall clock that could talk – a naked, big titted wall clock.

“Yah, why you think he ask?” Tiontay answered for him with a chuckle of disbelief I could be dumb enough to want to ask that question. It was also pretty clear he was waiting for my answer too.

“When you pull on my pussy lips like that, it made me wet.” I tried to put it delicately but the boys were not understanding what I was saying.

“She say it like when you walk around with your boner all nasty, it be like that for girls too, but on the inside- You feel me?” I gave Nasty a look of thanks when she explained in terms they would understand.

“So you like when I play helicopter?” Dante’ asked immediately understanding his sister’s explanation.

“Actually, no I don’t sir” I am sure my facial expression was telling him that should be obvious when I said it but if he had any remorse about doing something I didn’t like – it didn’t register on his face in the least.

“So then why you come out here naked then?” Tiontay asked in a way that made me wonder if he just assumed I had tied myself up to the motel wall in the hopes someone would play helicopter with me. I resisted the urge to give a sarcastic reply – I guess those submissive lessons really do pay off.

“I don’t know if you would understand if I explained it to you why I am out here, Sir” I smiled politely to Tiontay.

“I know why,” Nasty put her hands on her hip to emphasize each of the next three words she said.

“SHE”

“BE”

“NASTY!”

“Yes, I guess I am nasty, you are right about that Ma’am” I politely answered the girl.

“So this like that man at the bus stop who kept opening his coat and showing his weiner to everybody?” Tiontay asked Nasty.

“Oh that was SOOO NASTY, I told that old man,” Nasty looked up while recalling exactly what she said “I don’t want to see your old nasty weiner, put that thing a way.”

“Why you want to be on that wall like that then?” Dante’ asked with a confused expression.

“I don’t want to be up on that, I mean on this wall Sir.” I answered politely. I could see he was staring intently at my nipples and there was nothing I could do to stop him.

“Then when you is?” Dante’s grammar was frustrating but I understood what he meant – I just once again felt more embarrassed about revealing the truth than I did about him staring at my bare nipples.

I had to quickly decide if I wanted a plausible lie or to be honest with them (as painful as that might be). I didn’t have Jamie there to give me that look with those impossible blue eyes of hers as my conscious but at the same time I couldn’t think of a good lie. “I am being punished, see?” I wiggled my wrists to emphasize the plastic ties were holding my arms above my head. “I couldn’t have tied myself up this way.”

“Who is did this to you?” Tiontay asked with a slight look of concern registering on his face.

“Who did THIS to me?” I corrected his English out of habit and to give myself time to think if I could come up with a better plausible explanation yet. My brain still couldn’t think of one so I went with the truth. “I well, my husband did last night.”

“What did you do wrong?” Dante’ actually looked like he had some respect for me. I had the feeling he was often up to mischief and the fact that I got punished too probably made me seem like a kindred spirit.

“Oh gosh, well like I say,” I started to feel I had backed myself into an embarrassing corner of admission.

“Oh gosh, well like I am white” Tiontay imitated an exaggerated white person’s accent and the other two giggled.

“Okay, Okay, I know I sound corny,” I actually relaxed a little and laughed along with them.

“What dis is?” Dante’ had been staring at my tits and he reached out and dabbed them with his finger to reveal a little bit of my breast milk. “That is more of your women juice?”

“You don’t know nothing about wome, dat’s Enfamil!” Nasty declared angrily.

“Actually, you are close, Enfamil is powdered baby formula. This is actual breast milk, I guess I am leaking, Sorry about that.”

“So you had a baby recently?” Dante licked his finger and made a face. I had to choke back a laugh.

“No Sir, it’s hard to explain,” once again I tried to avoid giving him an answer about how I came to lactate so frequently and why I just realized my nipples felt like they were going to explode if they didn’t get pumped.

“Where you huzband is?”  Dante asked while holding his scratching himself.

“Dante’ you so nasty scratching your balls like that” Nasty chided her brother only to hear him give a dismissive ‘shickaw’ sound with his mouth in response.

“Well, I think he is at home Sir” I offered an answer to his question.

“Where you live at?” Dante asked, daring to dab his finger on my nipple again and pull back a drop of the milky liquid. He looked at it and then shook it off his finger instead of tasting it this time.

“I normally live in Cherry Lawn,” there was a look on their faces that suddenly I was an outsider again. Everybody in town knew Cherry Lawn was a hoighty-toighty country club style community.  “However, it looks like I am living in the Cabana behind me for a while.”

They nodded with appreciation – I wasn’t ‘one of them’ but the fact I lived here seemed to please them.

“You have any kids our age?” Tiontay asked. He was a little more shy and he was stealing glances at my chest more than staring at them.

“You can look at them if you want to Tiontay, they won’t bite, I promise” I said plainly and he smiled at me and looked up at my dangling boobs. “I have a daughter and a son who are a little older than you, why do you ask, Sir?”

“Someone new to play with.” Tiontay sounded very lonely in how he answered me. “Where is they?” he asked.

“Well, my son is in high school I am guessing, and my daughter is probably in the backyard at our place in Cherry Lawn?”

“They know you are out here like this?” Tiontay asked feeling bolder about getting a look at my tits. They were just hanging there like watermelons ripe and ready to be picked, I didn’t feel so bad telling him not to feel embarrassed to look - he had seen them anyway.

“Yes they know,” I wanted to sigh – they were going to drag the story out of me, one humiliating revelation at a time weren’t they?

“Who wrote these nasty words on you?” Nasty squinted to read the smudged words across my chest. “Axe me about the Candy titty bitch who wuz on the honor what?”

“Honor roll, Ma’am” I offered with a bit of a smile.

“You don’t think I know what is the honor roll?” Nasty asked defiantly.

I wanted to say “Well when you use grammar like that,” but I was in no position to be sarcastic and I apologized to her.

“Candy?” Tiontays eyes lit up.

“Oh, that was a joke between my daughter and I.” I realized right after I said that I raised more questions than I answered with that last explanation. “She wrote that on me last night, you see, but she was talking about herself.”

“Because her titties taste like candy?” Dante’ looked at my seeping and heaving breasts skeptically.

“Well, because her nipples probably look like chewy candy to some people I guess, I really don’t know what she meant by that Sir”

“You just let your daughter write all over you?” his sister asked me accusingly.

“I know THAT is nasty, right?” I smiled and the boys both laughed impishly at the subtle joke but if she got it – she didn’t laugh. It was obvious she wanted an answer to her question so I added “Well, if you think these are bad you should see what I wrote on her back, Ma’am!”

“How come your titties stick straight out like that?” Tiontay had become bored with the line of questioning and had one of his own.

“I have implants, so they always sort of set out prominently and hang like this on my chest no matter how old I get, Sir” I answered him plainly.

“Can I touch ‘em?” he asked while Nasty’s expression became even more dissaproving.

“When you played helicopter, you were honking them and treating them like an ignition switch, Sir.” - My voice rising at the end more like a question than an observation.

He made a (Shickaw) sound with his mouth as if he were dismissing that and he added “That was before we knew you was a person.  I will give you a licorice for if you let me to touch them.”

“Boy, you better not give this white lady MY licorice,” Nasty put her hands on her hips defiantly. I was sweating and hungry but this spunky little girl in this frilly, nearly see-thru pink nightgown made me laugh. It might not have been quite so sheer if her skin wasn’t black as midnight, but I could see almost as much of her in silhouette as she could of me in the daylight sun.

It just dawned on me by squinting up into the sky that the sun was not even directly overhead and it was probably only 9 or 10am. Time really was going slow out here.

When I finally looked back down at them it was obvious that Tiontay was awaiting my reply to his question and he and Nasty had reached some conclusion about the licorice. I have to be honest when I say that I would have rathered he just touch my tits than to give him permission – there was something deeply perverted about saying he could do it.

“Actually, I think I might get punished if I were to eat without permission Tiontay, but I thank you for the generous offer.” I dodged his question diplomatically and that made me feel pretty good about myself taking the moral high road. This is of course despite the fact that I was naked with prominent nipple and clit rings in front of three kids with all sorts of nasty writing on my body and one of them was holding my butt plug as if he thought it was a shovel.

“Why you aint got no hair down there on you Vajay-jay?” Tiontay didn’t dwell on the fact I hadn’t answered his question if he could touch my boobs or not before moving on to a new object of curiosity to him.

“Boy, you so nastay!” Nasty said predictably “Why you think she aint got no hair there?”

“I don’t know,” Tiontay answered with a dead pan curiosity.

“She white, aint you never seen no playboys? Everybody knows white girls don’t have no hair on they vajay-jay.” Nasty said quite matter of factly.

“Actually, that’s not true, Ma’am. I have to shave every day,” I volunteered with a chuckle at the misconception. “When I was young it was actually only really slutty girls who shaved like this, but now it is very common for my daughter’s generation.” I told her.

“So then why you bald as a baby butt down there?” Nasty flapped her rather full lips as if she were shocked she was wrong about something.

“I’ve actually been trying to avoid telling you my situation, because I think you would find it a little offensive” I admitted politely while side-stepping her question again. I know it is a defense mechanism of mine to hold information close to my chest but these were just kids – admittedly street smart kids. Despite them seeing everything on my body, there were things I was still holding back.

To be frank, I could say that if you read between the lines here dear journal I couldn’t tell you if censoring myself was for their benefit or because I was suddenly more embarrassed than ever to admit to them or myself the humiliating way I’ve been living the last few weeks.

Naturally, by telling them I was keeping some sort of secret this only made them more curious and they prodded me to answer – even offering me a piece of the licorice again.

“Well, you see I am basically a slave.” I blurted out.

There was stunned silence.

“Do you know what that is?” I asked them as I scanned their faces unable to discern their expressions.

“Did you pick cotton?” Dante’ asked me.

“No and that is why I was afraid to tell you, I thought it might seem extremely racist of me.” I admitted.

“All white people is racist,” Nasty said narrowing her eyes at me sharply – almost challenging me to dispute it. I wanted to tell her that a generalization about all people of a race is itself racist but I figured it would be lost of her.

“I am not that kind of slave, that your people were and I apologize for even using that term. It is just that well I don’t have any other way to explain why I am doing what I am told.” I waited for them to slowly nod and Tiontay bless his heart started to put his mouth on my ‘passport plug’ absent-mindedly.

“I wouldn’t put that in your mouth, Sir.” I warned him with a chuckle.

He took it out before Nasty could chide him over it. “It clean, I washed since I been digging wiff it.”

“Well, I wear that plug you are holding, and I shave my,” I realized I was supposed to say ‘cunt’ but I cleverly went with “‘pubic hair’ because I agreed to let my son and husband be the boss of me – be their slave”

“Why?” Nasty asked immediately drawing out her pronunciation of the word to match her level of curiosity.

“Good question, Ma’am.” I stalled for a moment to consider my next words carefully. I didn’t want to come off as a villain here but it was wrong to play the victim and get sympathy as well. I had after all done some very bad things to get into this situation. “My daughter and I kicked out my husband and son and they had to stay here at Rahjid’s motel,” I started to explain.

“Dat is bad, dis place got roaches!” Tiontay declared.

“Yes, well that is not the worst part of it, Sir.” I chuckled at how cute and innocent his eyes could be. “When my husband and son came back home, my daughter and I humiliated them, treated them like servants, and made them do whatever I say”

“Dante’ and Tiontay do that to me every single day!” Nasty nodded at my story in appreciation of being there too.

“We does not, you boss us around all the time!” Dante’ fired back.

“I do not, now shut up so the white lady can finish her story,” Nasty ordered her brother to be quiet without the slightest awareness of how right her brother seemed to be.

“Well, when I came to my senses I felt really guilty about what I had done and what I had encouraged my daughter to do to run the guys through the ringer. We decided to let them get payback on us, we would be their slaves for a while and they could make the rules for us.” I was doing well up to this point in my explanation when I added “One of those rules is to keep my cunt completely hairless.”

I saw Nasty cover her mouth and the other three when they heard ‘cunt’ reacted as if what I said was poison gas. It was too late to backtrack and say ‘pubic hair’ now so I continued with the story. “I am so sorry, I know that is a dirty word. Unfortunately, another of the rules is that I have to call it that and I guess I got so used to it that it just slipped out.”

I expected Nasty to tell me how Nasty I was but instead she just asked “Why?” again.

“I think because they know nice polite girls don’t say that and they wanted us to realize what we did was not nice or polite, Ma’am” That wasn’t my most descriptive affirmation but it felt humbling just saying it out loud to them.

“So you daughter is also slave?” Nasty was starting to get the picture.

“Yes Ma’am, she’ll be here later tonight. She got to go home because she was better behaved than me.” I admitted feeling a little better that they weren’t shell-shocked by my admission of guilt.

“One of you gonna be out here tomorrow?” Tiontay asked with a tone of voice that implied loneliness on his part.

“I don’t want to sound rude, but I hope not Sir. I am surprised no other adult has come out to inquire why I am up here or call the law or something.”

“Po-Po don’t like to come around this neighborhood,” Dante’ said with certainty before adding “And Mama and dem are sleep – aint nobody up this time of day but us.”

“I thought she called you earlier?” I asked.

“Yeah, den she go back to sleep!” Dante’ answered as if that were perfectly normal and expected. I am learning that people live a far different life outside of the suburb than most of the people I know and not to be surprised by just about anything.

“Will you kiss my frog?” Tiontay said out of the blue. The other two kids laughed in derision.

“I don’t know, will he turn into a prince charming and get Rahjid?” I playfully replied.

“No, I don’t think he will.” Tiontay answered naively while holding up a gorgeous little tree frog that he seemed to pull from his pocket. It wasn’t like one of those warty green bullfrogs; it was lean and sleek and seemed to almost shine from the oil on its skin.

“Meh, I’ve kissed worse,” I joked and let him put the little sucker right up to my mouth. I gave it a playful smooch.

“You so nasty! You kissed Tiontay’s frog that has been in his underwear!! OOOOO!!” Nasty’s voice carried the universal  ‘I am telllling’  tone that girls her age have been using since I was a girl.

“I am Nasty, that is probably why my husband saw fit to tie me up to this wall” I looked at the faded paint and dirty molded wood paneling that I was pressed up against while finally starting to accept I would be here at least all afternoon.

“And your Son!” Tiontay corrected.

“Yes Sir and my Son,” I agreed adding “and I will probably be punished as well because they will think I spit out my gag, and because you have my passport.” I said with just a touch too much stress in my voice as it began to dawn on me just how fucked I probably was.

“You want me to put that cloth on the ground back in you mouth?” Tiontay’s attitude towards me was even more benevolent now that I had kissed his frog. I did not really think any of his little dare – it was just one of many awkward moments we had shared. I know in his mind he had a frog in his pocket and he was curious if I would kiss it and he probably had not thought to much further than testing that hypothesis as to why.

“I shouldn’t ask you to do that, but when we get done talking, would you be kind enough to leave my passport? That silver shovel you are holding, Sir?” I smiled at him while sweat beaded now my nose. I am deeply tan so at least I wasn’t going to get a sunburn from the heat.

“I told you it was a shovel,” Tiontay held the chromed butt plug in his hand feeling completely validated.

“It is a nasty toy, shaped like a wiener that goes in women’s vajay-jays!” Nasty insisted.

“Nuh-uh, this aint like no wiener I’ve ever seen” Tiontay was right – it was smooth and shaped more like a long bullet. “Plus I found it in her dooky-hole!!” Tiontay admitted.

I thought Nasty was going to have a conniption fit but she just ignored him and made that familiar ‘shuck-caw’ sound they all made when they were done talking about something.

“That is why it won’t do any good for you to put the gag back in, when he sees the passport is gone or sitting on the ground, I am going to get punished anyway for that Sir.” I made a mental note that my daughter is far more black and white than me when it comes to justice and would have opted to at least have the gag in when Rahjid finally came around the corner.

“I can put it back in,” Tiontay wasted no time crawling under my legs and worming his way behind me to emerge behind my ass.

“Please don’t Tiontay,” was what I should have said.

Let me repeat that in case you didn’t get that the first time.

“Please don’t Tiontay,” was what I should have said.

Instead I said “Thank you, I really appreciate this. Would you mind putting it in my mouth first so I can get the tip wet please Sir?” without a second thought – and he reached around me from behind to my open mouth and let me suck on my passport plug.

I opened my mouth with a pop about the time I was having second thoughts about this but it was too late. He pulled my ass cheeks apart and rammed the plug in without any awareness of the fact that my asshole was far tighter and smaller than the tip of that plug. My eyes must have widened tremendously and my expression changed to shock because both Nasty and Dante’ were laughing as they stared up at my face.

“Oh my God,” I heard myself say as I started to wiggle my hips in semi-circles on to the plug for him. “Please just a little more gentle, and push it all the way in Sir?” I was already a quarter of the way plugged- he may as well finish the job.

“You keep that thing up your dooky hole all the time?” Dante’ asked skeptically and added “How do you poop?”

“With very few exceptions Sir,” I started to feel like Mrs. Jane trying to explain billiards to the Clampets. This whole thing seemed completely unnecessary to them and I would have sounded silly switching how I spoke from my typical English Teacher tone of voice to their slang.

“What are the accept-shuns?” Dante’ struggled with the word while his friend gave the butt plug a final twist, patted me on the round of my ass cheek and ducked back under my legs to face me again.

“The only two are when I am having sex, or when I am given permission to poop Sir,” I admitted truthfully – which seemed to blow their collective minds.

“What it say on your butt?” Tiontay asked.

“I thought you were going to put my gag back in Sir?” I was feeling butterflies in my stomach from admitting this much and admittedly I was actually very turned on by the reaming I had just got from the passport in a twisted kind of way. I thought it might be best if I were gagged before I said something I regretted. I replied “It says Whore, the O is kind of hidden” I winked but he didn’t seem to get it.

“She mean it around her dooky hole, like a big O” Nasty explained loudly as if it should be obvious what I was inferring. She even turned around and faced her own fairly well rounded ass towards him and on the outside of her night gown made the “OK” hand gesture right where her asshole would be to approximate my red O.

“Thank you, Ma’am” I volunteered before realizing that my nipples were now dripping down my chest and hard as a rock. I could feel myself getting wet and aroused.  Both of my legs were bound more than shoulder width apart and I could already feel my pussy starting to drip and throb.

“Your boobies are leaking big time, does that hurt?” Tiontay asked naively as my breast milk leaked out of my suddenly rock hard nipples.  I didn’t think I could get turned on by anal sex but the sudden stimulation had caused vibrations deep down inside of me that were unmistakable.

I assured him it didn’t as I started to wonder if some God or Fate or the Universal Narrator of Karma just had it out for me and was piling on humiliation after humiliation. “One of the other expectations was that,” and as I was about to explain the rules around lactation I felt Dante’ open my mouth and cram the now very dirty cloth gag into my mouth to stifle me from chattering on.

I nodded my approval and murmured something about that being the right thing to do after all but they could only see that I seemed to be okay with it.

“Okay we’ll see you later, crazy lady.” Tiontay waved dismissively and the kids ran back to a cabana on the end of the tiny dirt road.

I actually mumbled into my gag futilely as I saw them padding off in the distance “Wait, what about telling Rahjid I am here.” but half-way through the muffled scream I knew it was futile.

I could hear them teasing one another as they ran towards the shack they call home, “I am gonna make you MY slave,” Tiontay said.

“Nuh-uh, you my little bitch right now!” Nasty teased right back insistently.

I spent a lot of time for the next hour or so replaying in my head the conversation that had just happened and how I handled it. I might have done a few things differently if I could have done it over but then that is becoming the story of my life now – not just with Bill and Chris but in how I managed the family and the choices I made in putting my career first.

I tried to be optimistic about what had just gone down. I made up my mind to try to be as submissive and obsequious to Rahjid as white-alert allowed. I was going to throw myself on his mercy and beg for forgiveness like a good slut.

At least I had my gag and butt plug and while I knew a punishment was coming, at least Jamie wouldn’t be the only one with the special plug the guys bought for us. I think a part of me could see her feeling disappointed if she was the only who had to wear it. I know that sounds weird – but we are more than just on the same team in this little jam we’ve gotten ourselves in. I did not want to let her down and I certainly didn’t want Bill and Chris to have any more reason to put egg on my face.

Mmm, eggs would be nice. I was so hungry about this time and it wasn’t even noon yet. I was making up my mind to count my blessings though. What if I had been discovered by a gang with switchblades?

Who am I kidding? I am a child of the 80s who lives in the suburbs. I picture the Jets and the Sharks from West Side Story when I envision a gang – running around with Doo-wop haircuts and Fonzi jackets. I know nothing of the streets.

I spent the hour after that going over scenarios in my head that could have been much worse than what just happened. Yes, I could have had all sorts of nasty things befall me.

I was tired, exhausted and so hungry. Dog food just isn’t very nourishing and we haven’t been getting that much anyway.  The combination of the three has left me in what I can only say is a trance like state.  As time went on, I began to feel a tingling on my lips where I kissed the frog. It kept getting more and more intense once I realized it was there.  It didn’t hurt but it felt weird and it wasn’t long before I started seeing things look a little warped, like I was seeing them through one of those mirrors at the festival that distorted shapes.  I guess I was hungrier than I thought because I found myself in my favorite deli I used to go to for lunch.  It specialized in healthy, organic foods and the owner was a middle aged guy that always seemed to rub me the wrong way.  He was just rude and unresponsive and if it wasn’t for the good food and convenience of it being next door to where I worked I wouldn’t have gone there.  But here I found myself sitting there eating sandwich after sandwich, that were as unhealthy for you as you could get.  These things were dripping with greasy fat and full of all the things you try to avoid on a healthy diet.  The owner was standing over me forcing me to eat sandwich after sandwich as fast as I could.  When I looked at him his head was getting bigger and then smaller over and over.  It was very unsettling.  I looked over at another table and there was Van sitting there eating a sandwich with a monstrous frog smashed between the slices and the legs were still flaying around as if the frog was still alive. 

I looked back at the owner of the deli and he opened his mouth. His facial expression showed no sign of surprise that inside his mouth was that damn tree frog!  I gasped in shock as it jumped down onto the sandwich I had just lifted up to my mouth. It grew in size and leaned in to kiss me, not a little peck on the lips but it stuck its long, forked tongue down my throat in an obscenely deep French kiss.

I was sure I was hallucinating but while this was happening it felt intensely real – more real than any dream I can remember.  I found myself not repulsed but actually accepting and then participating in the French kiss.  As I kissed the frog, I closed my eyes and as we kissed, the sensations of the kiss changed. That damn tongue was so deep in my throat at first but it kept getting shorter and shorter.  Finally we broke the kiss and standing in front of me was the most handsome prince. He reached up and suddenly I was back on the cabana and he was releasing my ties.  It didn’t take long and he pulled me to his carriage that looked a lot like a carved out pumpkin. 

I was whisked away to his palace.  When we got there, he led me in to the throne room still naked as can be. As soon as I entered the throne room I saw my family sitting on chairs on either side of the throne.  My silver haired father was sitting there shaking his head and making that ‘shuck-caw’ sound the kids made over and over with a look of utter disappointment.  My mother who had always been my rock was sitting in the chair next to him and she gave me a look of scorn and ridicule that would have made even Mrs. Waxerman ask her to take it down a notch (well that may be a little hyperbole but you get my meaning).

This was quickly becoming a nightmare - my Sister was sitting on the other side of the throne with a sassy smile on her face, not to mention the look of delight at me being put in my place. In my halucination she still looks about 16 years old like a blonde Delta Burke in her prime with that big 1980s hair and she is chewing gum like it is a sport. She has this look on her face like, “Oh how the mighty have fallen” and Lisa doesn’t say anything I’m being chained, standing in front of the throne. “Van, would you come take a look at this?”

My current neighbor - the man I had sex with this weekend emerges from  the dais with his hair slicked back looking like the high school all-American Quarterback he was in his prom tuxedo. He suavely ignores me and moves over to her and takes her arm with a bemused expression on his face. He pulls her into a loving embrace and then he sits down in the chair with her in his lap on the opposite side of the throne from mom and dad.

All I can do is remain chained up in front of the throne with my hands pulled way up over my head and my legs wide apart. In my halucination my nipple and clit rings are exaggerated – at least three times their size and look positively obscene as they protrude from my engorged nipples and puffy, sore clit. My tits were just flowing milk out of them like a little river and my cunt was as wet as a swamp. For some reason I I was getting excited at all of this.

Lastly, my younger brother Ted walks out from behind the dais. He has a grin on his face from ear to ear. This sounds silly but he is holding his Harvard Diploma and wearing an expensive suit. He was voted most likely to succeed in his high school class and last I heard he was a big real estate developer with a massive estate of his own so I guess the symbolism makes sense.

“Hey Sis, are you sure that Butt plug is big enough for an ass like yours?” My brother asks but I cannot answer because I have a gag in my mouth. The humiliation of them sitting there just watching me is worse than anything I’ve experienced.

The prince took his seat on his throne and took up his scepter and sat there with it held in his hand.  It looked like a baton but made of wood and was only about a quarter of an inch in diameter and increased to the top where it was a two inch round knob.  He sat there with my family for a moment and then my dad stoop up and came down in front of me.  He grabbed me by my chin as he looked deeply into my eyes and announced for all to hear, “You have been found to be a bad wife, ignoring your husband and neglecting him when he needed you most.  I am very disappointed in you.”

My mom stood up next and walked in front of me, and with a stare of scorn announced for all to hear, “You are a bad wife and mother.  You refused to treat your husband as an equal and dominated and abused him.  You put your own desires and career ahead of your family and they suffered for it, especially your son who needed you more than anyone.

My sister got up when mom finished and walked up to me and slapped me.  That’s for being a lousy sister and a poor role model for my favorite niece and nephew.  You don’t know how I had looked up to you.  But you were always lil miss perfect and I just couldn’t catch up.  Now look at you, a failure at your job, your family and your life.

Finally it was my brother that got up and stood beside the rest.  He just smiled at me and said, “I always wanted to see you get yours. You were a god damned pretentious bitch and a pain in the ass the whole time we were growing up.  You deserve whatever you have coming.

Finally the prince stood up and approached me.  He stood directly in front of me with the family looking on in anticipation of what was going to happen.  He lifted his scepter and asks, “You have been found to be worthless as a wife, a mother, a boss and a friend. You are good for nothing but being a slut slave.  Since your crimes are unforgivable, I now pronounce sentence.  You are hereby sentenced to live the rest of your life as a slut slave, having to follow the orders of your lord and master.”

As my prince, who I thought was my savior, pronounced sentence a big metal slave collar and shackles appeared around my neck, wrists and ankles.  My mind was working to try and figure out what was happening when I felt a pain in my left tit.  I scream a bit through the gag as the pain in my tit floods into me. I heard something that sounded like, “Why are you here?” but I couldn’t be sure.

He has my rapt attention and I see his scepter coming down towards my right tit when he asks again but now his voice has changed – it sounds higher and has a different measured cadence and I feel my right tit explode in pain as I watch his hand come down in what seemed like slow motion and make a huge depression in my tit, leaving a big read hand print, then I heard the question again in that Indian accent,  “What are you doing back here?” he asks but I can’t say anything I just murmur incoherently.

I finally realize that I was just imagining my family in their idealized forms in the throne room and that there was no prince. I quickly figured out that there had to be some kind of hallucinogenic property to the skin of the frog I kissed with the boys.  That was the only thing that would explain the hallucinations and tingling feeling I felt. As I realized what must have happened, I quickly wondered what my family would think of me in my actual current form, probably not much different. Rahjid had taken the gag out of my mouth and was asking me questions and all I was doing was babbling and drooling because the hallucinogen was still keeping me from behaving normally, well as normal as ever act these days.

“Wake up you lazy sod, we went to look for you in the room, but you are out here cavorting about without clothes!”

“No Sir, let me explain,” my mouth was so dry and raspy – and my stomach was so empty that I felt weak in the knees while I pleaded with him, not to mention coming down from the hallucination.

“No time for this,” he cut me down with a box cutter and as blood flow started to return to my arms I felt even more disoriented.  It dawned on me now how sore my wrists were going to be from being tied up all morning with plastic ties but I could not even yell.

“Do you not know there are kids who play out here during the day?” he scolded me as if it had been my idea to strap myself naked to a wall while he cut the tie on one of my ankles.

“Yes, trust me I did not want to be out here, may I please have some water Sir? I will do anything!” at that point I literally meant ‘anything’.

“You will do anything anyway, you are a nasty beast,” he scolded me while cutting the final tie to release my foot.

I stumbled and began massaging my wrists, “You may be right about that, Sir.” I could still hear a rasp in my voice that made me feel like an old witch.

Rahjid put his face close to mine and sniffed down my chest over my sweaty tits and said “You stink”. Then he added “This is good, it means you worked hard”

“Thank you Sir, I was trying to be a good girl. Did my husband call you to tell you he left me back here?”

“Cow-tits, I don’t know how to be saying this, but would you please move your naked ass back into the Cabana and take a shower, so you can begin to work?” Rahjid fastidiously reminded me that not only was I completely naked in broad daylight but that I really needed a bath.

“Thank you, thank you so much for allowing me a shower, Sir!” I was relieved and I started to scurry off into our Cabana.

As I rounded the corner I was immediately struck by the sound of horns and traffic on MLK blvd during the day. It was bumper to bumper – a stark contrast to the slower pace of traffic at night.

I hesitated for a moment, but Rahjid walked behind me and slapped my bare ass with his hand, “Do not stand here and flash the traffic, it is bad for business.” He instructed and with that I dashed quickly inside the cabana.

My wrists and ankles were still hurting and now my lower back felt ridiculously sore. This would be the first shower I’ve had in a long time and I was doing it alone and unsupervised. Rahjid hadn’t even checked to see if my ‘passport’ was in my tailpipe and it didn’t make a lot of sense to me to keep it in while I showered. I took it out and felt a little guilty about cleaning it in the sink but I decided what Bill and Chris didn’t know won’t hurt them.

Then I proceeded to take a good long piss on the toilet and at the end used as much toilet paper as I wanted without any weird guilt or power-trips. The bathroom was disgusting and mildewed and the shower-water was stale and lukewarm but let me tell you – it was like a phoenix being reborn from her ashes having the water cascade down on my body. I drank my fill from the shower and despite the fact it tasted like dirty PVC pipe water I kept cupping my hands in the shower and gulping it down.

I tweaked my nipples in the shower until I felt like I had released all of the milk that had been dripping down from my poor engorged nubs. It still surprises me how they can be so sensitive yet take so much abuse – I guess that’s nature’s design so babies can gum the hell out of them to get a drink.

I tasted my own milk – Meh, I’ve tasted worse coming out of my own body.

I washed off all the lettering from the night before and then I started to dry my hair. I didn’t have any make up here and I wasn’t sure how I was going to look without anything to do my hair with but it didn’t really bother me. I would just look about ten years older without my makeup though and that sort of bothered me. The guys made us wear blue mascara and pink bubble-gum lipstick anyway so it was actually refreshing to have a completely fresh and unmade up face.

I sat down on a chair I had pulled into the bathroom and began to look at myself in the mirror. I started to feel guilty that I had taken out the butt plug on my own and cleaned it off as I had – especially since Jamie was home, probably having to keep hers in.

I wondered about Jamie and whether her day had turned out as bad as mine. I wasn’t too worried though with her Father watching over her all day – she has already spent two days outside. The worst that could happen is the Waxerman boys show up and unlike Dante’, Tiontay and Nasty they were pretty well accustomed to our antics by now.

There weren’t any clothes in the Cabana that I could put on and I knew better than to try and head back out naked. There also was nothing to eat – I would have been glad for the salty crumbs from an old bag of chips. That is another thing I take away from my little re-education at Bill’s hands – I used to only eat organic and six dollar wraps and Panini’s. Now, I’d eat just about anything and be glad to get it.

I was ready to work, all except for the clothes. I peeked out the window – it was still daylight and I braced myself for the fact I’d be walking the streets with busy traffic. I could already hear the honking and the whistles from the looky-loos before I had even begun.

I looked over towards the Office but didn’t see Rahjid or his wife. I was hoping they would bring me something to wear so I could get started. I also decided I was going to do the best I could to get Rahjid to give me a fair punishment for last night so that Bill and Chris (and even Jamie the rule-follower) would be proud of me.

The bed was still dirty from the night before – no luck on fresh sheets so I just smoothed the bedspread and layback. I was going to insert my ‘passport’ but somewhere along the way I started to relax and at first began slowly fingering my pussy. I touched the cold metal of the butt plug to my clit ring and despite the pounding I’ve received from numerous dicks these past weeks I enjoyed probing myself with it. I began to fuck myself against the plug slow and steady. I licked my parched lips and raised my butt up a little so that I could get a little leverage.

I was just going to keep doing it for a few more minutes to ‘get it wet’ before sticking it in my ‘pooper’ as Chris sometimes calls it, when the screen door swung open.

“What-the-fuck is it this time?” honestly you had to hear his speech cadence to truly get how hilarious Rahjid sounds when he tries to sound angry. I wasn’t laughing though because I had just been caught red-handed by him and his creepy wife playing with myself.

“I am sooo sorry Master Rahjid, I was just getting my cunt lubricated to start working before I put this back up my ass, sir.”

“Likely story, you lying slut. You are doing the nasty on Rahjid Bed, on Rahjid Time, on Rahjid Dollar!?” his voice rose as he became increasingly angry. I sat up and pleaded with him.

“Master Rahjid, please I am supposed to ask for punishment anyway, I know I was naughty for masturbating too, but I am supposed to confess what I did last night and ask for correction.”

“We have no time, you are already late to make the dollars, what is it you will be wearing?” Rahjid was impatient for me to work.

“Please you don’t understand Sir.” I was on my knees on the dirty red carpet pleading with him to punish me. “If you don’t punish me hard for what I did wrong, my husband will come and punish me so much harder.”

“This is does not sound a Rahjid Problem this sounds like a Cow-tit problem,” Rahjid stated bluntly.

“I don’t have any clothes, Sir my husband and son took them last night when they tied me behind the Cabana.” I was still in begging mode – seeming pathetic and at his mercy. I was almost in tears.

“That sounds like a good punishment for a dirty whore, but you do not understand that behind the motels the efficiencies are paying customers who do not want to see your hairless Dheeli Choot.” I did not know what a Dheeli Choot was but I had a pretty good idea from his context.

“Please, Please Sir? Just like thirty minutes to punish me and I will wear whatever you have and work today and tonight all. I am so, so sorry.” I was too.

“Fine,” Rahjid seemed put out by the idea and asked, “What punishment is suitable for your crimes?”

“Well, don’t you want me to confess what I did wrong and then come up with an appropriate punishment?” I was being asked to come up with my OWN punishment? I was used to my husband and son’s punishment style and this was taking me out of my comfort zone in a big way.

“I do not have the time, nor the interest in whatever of the shit that you have been doing wrong to fuck it up.” Rahjid’s English got worse as he became more impatient. “Tell me how to punish, so that we can get the money flow.”

“I don’t really know, I mean… I…,” I couldn’t really think of anything now that it was being asked of me to come up with my own punishment. There are so many ways I could go. Chris and Bill have all of these index cards with clever ideas that must have taken them days to think up.

It is equally frustrating and frightening to be asked to think of one’s own punishment and have the stipulation it must seem commensurate to one’s own rule violations.

I think in a way it was a punishment in and of itself – but only I realized it.

I stared blankly at an impatient Rahjid and his wife while I scanned through a rolodex in my head of punishments I’ve already survived in the hopes of thinking of one suitable to please Bill and Chris.

The first and most obvious choice was taking a paddling – the old standby. They had used some sort of birch branches on me the night before and the oil from whatever it was stung like the devil. I couldn’t just suggest more of the same (and a part of me did not want more of that nasty, wicked branch).

The second idea was maybe a hair brush – ooh, what about bristle side instead of flat side? Still probably not sufficient for all the rule violations I have to answer for. I could add getting caught masturbating to the list now.

“Well, you could paint five dollar blowjobs on my chest and send me out with very little clothes Sir?” Rahjid looked impatient and I blurted out the first idea that wasn’t just beating me with something hard.

“You think I want to undercut other girls? Then they have to suck dicks harder to make money, because you suck ALL the dick!” The frustrated little man made me laugh with his stunted English.

“True, I am sorry sir, I am trying to think what they would do to a slut like me in India?’ my question designed to at least see where he was leaning in punishment.

“In my village, you would be having your face painted black and then dragged through the streets with bells on your tits and around your neck while you are threshed with sticks.” Rahjid explained and his wife bobbled her head either agreeing with him or thinking ‘here we go again’ it is so hard to tell with Indian body language.

I started to wonder how I could get away with something like that on busy mid-day, Martin Luther King Blvd. when he added “Then you would be taken to a nearby farm and attached to a plow, where you would replace some one’s oxen for the remainder of your life to be scorned and ridiculed.”

Okay, that might be a bit TOO harsh even for all the things I have done.

“I am so sorry sir, I am begging you,” I got down on my knees and parted my legs while I held my hands up “I need you to punish me hard for all my mischief last night and today so that I will learn to behave!!”

“Oh really?” he folded his arms skeptically

“Well, and my husband and son will punish me much, much harder if they are un-satisfied, which will take more time away from my earning.”

As a pragmatic business man this was finally logic he saw worthy of his time. His wife whispered something in his ear and he nodded.

“So this is like Devi-Das, my niece. She is agreed to be disciplined because she knows that it is worse to become like the western sluts of America.”

I wasn’t sure if I agreed with him. I had wondered about his niece’s situation since seeing her naked caramel colored skin the night before but I hadn’t dared ask. I was just trying to save my own bacon from a worse punishment later and not my immortal Hindu soul from Americanization – it was probably too late for that, lol.

Look at me writing “lol” in my journal when I make a joke like a teenager. I am probably about 15 years behind the times on that but it is progress.

“You could punish me similar to Devi-Das, Sir?”

“I do not punish Devi-das” Rahjid said sternly.

“No? I thought she was a slave like my daughter and I?” I could have sworn she was being kept naked in a bedroom and trotted out to be whipped and then chained back up earlier.

“That is prâyaúcitta. I don’t know the English word for it, or if you even have the concept here.” He put his finger on his lip and considered carefully before continuing his lesson. “Prâyaúcittas are not necessary only for the cleansing of one's own soul, but also for the satisfaction rest of society, as they are not permitted to have social contact with one who has sinned and not completed their penance. It is Devi-das own choice to perform her penance at my house so that she does not shame her father by his having to administer the punishments himself.”

I was a little shocked – I had suspected Rahjid was simply a pervert who liked to keep girls in bondage. We had seen one like that at the tattoo parlor in the flea market and I didn’t know her story either. I suspected she knew my daughter though.

“The vrata of the modern hindu is very trivial and does not cleanse one in the manner of the old Vrata. I do not believe you would understand this matter, but it does give me an idea, come.” He started to walk out the door with his wife right behind him.

“I don’t have any clothes in here, sir.” I said as I started to stand up. I had casually slipped my passport up my ‘poop chute’ as Chris calls it without calling too much attention to myself. I am surprised how easily I can stick things up my ass now – I sure am glad the rim is elastic and will tighten back up over time, lol.

“You do not need clothes for such a short distance, crawl behind me and stay low and you shall be fine.” Rahjid didn’t look behind him – he simply walked out the screen door with the assurance I would follow.

I got on my hands and then arched my back and walked on my feet. The pebbles and broken glass in the cracked pavement around the motel was too much for my old knees to bear.

He walked slowly as if he might be savoring the fact that I was behind him and his wife. “You must learn patience, you will crawl too fast and then a car will notice. Crawl as if you belong where you are, you are just a dog. The drivers will not notice – be most assured.” He offered without glancing backwards.

I did as I was told and remained on my hands and knees when we got into his apartment. The overpowering smell of Indian food reminded me I was hungry enough to even eat that exotic cuisine.  I’d only eaten it one other time when a co-worker tried to introduce me to it years ago and not only had I not been able to find anything I didn’t think was goat meat but it did not agree with me.

They led me into the bedroom with his niece. There was incense and candles lit around a shrine to different gods. She was hanging from a chain in the center of the room with the look of an innocent angel on her caramel colored face. She was quite attractive with long black hair and she had features that reminded of pixie – similar to Jamie. If Jamie was Tinkerbell then Devi-Das would be the darker friend that flies around with her in those Disney made-for video movies.

She did not look up – but remained in a trance like state as if she was completely unaware of our presence.

“I see from the look on your face, that you think me a cruel man to see my niece in such a way?” Rahjid asked.

“No sir, you told me you had a reason for all of this,” I actually did think he could be particularly cruel but I wasn’t going to add insult to injury by pointing out how he treated Jamie and I.

“Devi-Das has many ways to reduce her sin – let me show you,” his impatience had evaporated and now the topic of his niece had come up he seemed intent on sharing with me a lesson in his culture.

“You see the sacrifice into fire – it is called ‘Homa’,” He took a candle and intoned a prayer to the Lord of Vrata and held the lit candle under her pert breasts and over her chocolate nipples, but she remained unmoved and unburned.

“Devi-das, we have an American woman here who wants to understand your choice to anutâpa, it is time for confession.”

Devi-das opened her eyes and looked down at me expressionless.

“Is this what you want to be? A fake-breasts, fake-hair, fake-everything like this?” Rahjid wasn’t being fair – my hair had a few highlights but that wasn’t fake – I took his barb with a grain of salt and remained on the floor.

“No Uncle, I wish to continue to perform the vrata, I have the strength to do it, may it be propitious for me.”

“Do you understand that while you perform the vrata, you must remain naked and chaste, without the benefit of your father’s wealth – a tâpasá?”

He turned to me as if talking to a child and explained “this means to remain wretched, poor and miserable.” He considered me for a moment and added “Not like you and your daughter, but for bodily purification and spiritual enlightenment.”

I nodded understanding but did not reply. I wondered if we weren’t really doing this for that very reason ourselves.

“This wretch on the floor asks are you a slave to my house?”

“No uncle, I am not your slave. The human body is the receptacle of piety, wealth, desires, and final liberation. It should therefore never be the subject of purchase. I am a burden to your house and that of my father until I have cleansed my soul and I thank you for the hospitality that you offer.” She said with no hint of the accent of her uncle.

“What is your name, dear niece?”

“I am Urmila Devi Das, so named as slave to god, until I am free of the mortal sins of materialism, selfishness, sexual gratification and perversion that I have learned while in America,”  Oh brother, this girl would love Mrs. Waxerman. She was so serious and without a hint of self-doubt that I sensed she was not simply brain-washed but that she truly found some gratification in her situation.

“What adorns your body?” Rahjid asked ritualistically.

“The Mehndi of my prayers and the pain of the sorrow I have created with my fall from grace.” She answered stoically. In many ways she reminded me so much of my own daughter now.

I noticed that she was speaking of elaborate henna body art that was black enough as to not be easily visible in the low light of the make-shift shrine. There was a complexity and elaboration in glitter, gilding, and fine-line work that must have been her prayers. I saw long metal needles through her breasts in perfect lines and across her stomach and over her pussy that accented the art work and blended in with it perfectly.

“How long have you been performing the Upavâsa?” Rahjid asked.

“I have been fasting for 17 days Uncle, and only last night I was permitted Charmasukh last night.”

“This beast and her daughter are the ones who brought Charmasukh for you.” Rahjid told her.

“Thank you beast, you are doing me a great favor, for semen is the vital fluid of all life. I am permitted only the consumption for conscious posture and strenuous breath.”

“We are not permitted to touch Devi-das as she is unclean so she cannot collect this herself. My wife prepares for her from the condoms you bring the seed of life and we provide it to her through a ritual after her Prâṇâyâma which is the restraint of breath.”

I had wondered what they were doing with the condoms we brought but I had thought he was just a tremendous pervert who got a kick out of our carrying them in our mouths. I hadn’t even taken it very seriously but now it dawned on me – he didn’t want the semen touched by human hands.

He lowered Devi-das’ chain and she remained naked with her arms above her head. “You must perform six Prâṇâyâma before you can be fed.” I noticed when Rahjid said that, just a slight hint of fear and concern flashed momentarily on her normally reserved brow.

She brought her hands down to her side and with slow and deliberate moves brought her head to rest on an ornate ceramic trough with ornate Hindu carvings. I noticed they had a disturbing orgy of several men and women intertwined carved in the relief.

“This is the recreation of Khajuraho temple from my home. The vase has a purified curve in the center for her to rest her neck. This has been in my family for centuries and passed down from mother to daughter.” Rahjid was actually smiling the same perverted smile he had when he saw me humiliated at his swimming pool the night before. It occurred to me that Rahjid may look like he is perverted but I think he is just happy that his niece is reaching mumbo-jumbo Nirvana or whatever it is they are doing.

Devi-Das held both sides of the ashy-black bowl she rested her supple neck on. Rahjid wife then lowered a stone block over her neck so that the girl was effectively trapped inside stocks.  Then Rahjid’s wife pushed on a lever in the floor which raised a platform under the girl dunking her head while raising her naked buttocks up in the air without so much as a splash.

At that point the door flung open and a young indian boy rushed in speaking in Hindi and holding an action figure.

“Get out while your cousin does her Vratas, young man.” Rahjid demanded sternly.

The boy looked down at me for about an instant and acting as if this were perfectly within reason that I be on all fours naked in just a dog collar while his cousin was being ritualistically dunked he padded quickly out of the room and shut the door.

“Do you see? I have eight mouths to feed here? Do you see why you must work hard for Rahjid and learn to suck more dick?” Rahjid’s tone was like every husband who ever complained about the rat race and the rising cost of butter - despite how lightly he took the trade of prostitution.

“Yes Sir, I will do my best to suck more dick for you,” I swallowed hard as I said it. I was hoping for them to finally release Devi and after what felt like a full minute she was released by allowing the platform to drop and popping her out of the water without ever being touched.

“Your cousin was inquiring about you, have you been luring him to come into here and speak to you that you are not so bored?” Rahjid asked the soaked teenage girl.

“I have only one time, but I will not again. I apologize Uncle. That was a moment of weakness.” She begged.

“You do not apologize to me for this, you have simply added to your prâyaúcitta,” Rahjid said softly and she agreed with a stoic pout worthy of Jamie.

“May I have double the number of Prâṇâyâma, Uncle?” she asked.

“You may but I cannot remain to witness your atonements. I must return this whore to work and to do this she requested a punishment. She thought that I was punishing you and I felt I must show her that is not the case.” Rahjid said in a comforting manner.

“Yes, the punishments are my own doing, stay or go as you wish beast, with my thanks for your gifts of which I am unworthy,”  Devi regarded me before steadying herself for another dunk.

“Nicely said” Rahjid offered her a compliment just as her face met the water of the stone dunking tub and I could almost see a smile for the first time on her face. Rahjid snapped his fingers at me and walked back into his living room.

I was hesitant to remain crawling but after a second snap I left his wife and daughter in the shrine and followed.

“Do you see now that I cannot use these punishments on you?” Rahjid asked me as he stood in his kitchen and moved around some frying pans on his stove.

I remained on all fours as two girls slightly younger than Jamie came skipping into the kitchen to where their father was standing.  They looked down at me and giggled and then looked to their father for an explanation. He called me ‘Dheeli Choot’ – a word he had used the night before.

They laughed and ran back into another room in the tiny apartment without a single question.

“Do you often have women on all fours in your kitchen, Sir?” I asked joking about how everyone seemed to be completely unsurprised by the sight of my big round naked ass on all fours.

“No, never. Why do you ask this?” Rahjid completely missed my attempt at humor.

“I was just wondering why none of your kids seemed surprised to see me like this, Sir.” I smiled knowing he had not picked up at my attempt at levity.

“They know you are the pig American woman and whore from last night. This is a small apartment with thin walls. Everything is seen and heard by everyone. They have stopped giggling several hours ago and now know you are here to earn our family money. Does that surprise you?” Rahjid probably noticed that I looked insulted at the realization I was a laughing stock.

“No sir, I am used to being called a pig,” I lied. It happened often enough but it was still a battering on my pride. “Do you mind if I stand up?”

“I prefer for you to be remaining on the ground. I have some curry here for you to eat. It is a delicacy of my home, a fish curry.” He set a warm pan of awful smelling sour fish in a light brown cream sauce in front of my face. “Do not make the ugly face, just eat and then I will rent you some clothes to start your day shift.”

Gah! I tried not to make a face at the powerfully offensive Indian cuisine I’d just been offered but I doubt I was all that convincing. “I still need to be punished before my husband and son get here with my daughter Sir.”

“You are glutton for the punishment. I just told you all of my children are aware and yet you want still to be punished?” Rahjid asked incredulously as if I were being selfish by reminding him of my impending punishment.

“I thought if they had already seen me on all fours naked, and you did not care about that then,” I started to explain and saw him fold his arms impatiently “I am sorry Sir.” I finally said and closed my mouth.

“I have told you that I cannot use the ritual Vratas on you as that would be sacrilege and perversion of their true meaning.” Rahjid explained. “My wife has her sewing on the table, I will select seven needles and you will pick where to place them.”

I am sure I looked horrified at the idea of being stuck with needles. I had almost become accustomed to blunt spankings with paddles and even a whipping here and there but sharp, pointy needles puncturing my skin was another animal all together.

“You are frightened? Devi-das has over hundred,” Rahjid said with a trace of pride on what his niece can endure. “You will tell me how many - one for each violation,” he decided.

“How long must I keep them in for Sir?” I swallowed wondering if I really wanted to know.

“You will show husband and son, and they will decide when you have worn them long enough. You may not pick in your asshole or through your pussy because you must work and customers do not like sharp needle.” Rahjid said that last condition like he thought that was my first choice.

“Will I bleed?” I was probably stalling by asking questions.

“I have been applying ritual needles to the girls of my family since I was seven years old. You will not bleed dear lady, do you have a preference where you want it and I will have them in before you finish the fish curry.”

“All in my boobs I guess, Sir?” I wondered if my breast implants would pop but I dared not ask him. It was obvious from what I saw the needles went long-ways along the surface of the skin and straight not down into the skin.

“You believe this because you think Bill and Chris will approve this is enough?” Rahjids asked like a wizened Guru expecting me to look in my heart for the answer.

“Let me see, I need a needle for each of my infractions,” I looked up as if that helped me to count better.  We had taken too long with our final customer of the night, we had half-assed the condoms at the end of that one, we had taken our butt plugs out on our own and I did it again today when I was caught masturbating. “I think I need five needles for five infractions, I guess put them then where you think they will impress my son and husband Sir?”

“Very wise choice, now eat the curry,” Rahjid hovered over my ass cheeks and pulled them apart. He slid two needles length wise into the sides of my tattoo around my ass cheeks. I made a hissing noise at first but once they were in I could no longer feel either. I also felt no blood drip down from the ass-stabbing I just got so I was more confident.

“You took those well. These next two will hurt more,” Rahjid could use some help with bedside manner as it only made me more apprehensive and heightened in my awareness of the pain I was about to receive.

He pushed one of the needles directly into the center of my nipple and straight down. I thought he wasn’t going to do that? Hot damn that felt like iced pain sharply driven into my tit. “Oh gawww-addd,” I stuttered out as I realized the nipple pin had gone all the way in.

“This will help you to think about your many rule violations,” Rahjid put his thumb and forefinger around the nub of my other nipple and pressed down on my nipple ring. Then he slid the second needle like a sword plunging down the center of my titty. It was such a heightened and sharp pain that I have no words to describe it. It was much worse than getting my initial piercing. I could only hold my mouth open and suck air – I could not even scream.

“Do not be such a big baby,” Rahjid chided me and then rubbed my stomach as if considering where to stick me with the final pin. “I would put through your vagina but I need you to rent it on the street, open your mouth.”

I did as I was told and he saw my tongue ring. I had grown used to the dick shaped stud that was in my mouth and I don’t think I lisp like a baby any more. “I did not see this before, it is valuable for sucking the dicks” he gave me permission to continue eating as he looked me over like a puzzle he was trying to solve on wheel of fortune.

He squatted down to my face while I made a valiant effort to take a bite and swallow the nasty tasting food. I liked fish but this tasted like it had been left out to go bad. It had that nasty fish smell that you get when you leave uneaten fish in the garbage too long.  That damn dog food was all of a sudden looking very appetizing right about now. It smelled a bit like warm garbage that had been left in the sun too long, and tasted like vomit to me but I was starving and I needed to eat – besides the girl in the other room had a worse diet than me. How they eat this stuff, I have no idea, it is absolutely putrefying.  Eating a half a hot dog on the kitchen floor sounded real good to me at that moment. As a matter of fact it would be an absolute gourmet feast compared to this. It was all I could do to take each bite and chew it.  Finally, I just took small bites and swallowed it whole to avoid chewing as much as possible.

I was just finishing when an elderly black man came up to Rahjid’s window and asked Rhajid if he had that left over fish curry he had left over from two days ago. Rahjid went and got an old Tupperware bowl that was half full of the nasty smelling fish curry.  Then it dawned on me that black guy had said a couple of days. That meant that this stuff had been sitting around.  God I hoped I wouldn’t get sick. Just the thought of eating two day old fish that had been sitting out churned my stomach, but realizing I had been eating it made it worse.  I paused eating and was about to quit eating what was left but my stomach growled in hunger so I started back with the tiny bites. As the black guy was leaving, the guy said, “This is the nastiest smelling stuff I’ve ever smelled but my cats love this.  Let me know the next time you have it.”

When the guy had left, Rahjid turned to me and kicked my ass saying in his stilted accent, “Hurry up whore, time for punishment and then make the money!”

Rahjid put his arm around my neck and cradled it like he was going to break it. Instead, he held me firmly in place with one arm and then used that hand to steady my face forward and used the other to drive a long slender needle through the center of my nose in between both nostrils.

“Nooooooooooooooooooooooo,” I cried out but it was already too late. I had heard a sharp pop sound in my head like when your eardrums pop on an airplane and it was done. “Oh my god, fuuuuuuuuuuuuu” I suddenly forgot all about the needle threaded into my tits and it was all about the nose – I wanted to cry but there were no tears.

“You will show them and ask forgiveness,” Rahjid sounded more like Ghandi than Apu from the Simpsons –offering his words as advice instead of brusque and business like orders. There was obviously more to him than I knew.

There may even be more to my reasons for my own spiritual journey than even I knew – and for that matter for Jamie’s own journey. I continued to nibble and pick at the curry with my teeth while Rahjid threw a pile of clothes at me. My thoughts were not on the cock sucking and street walking I was going to do today – it was just back on my daughter – I wondered if her day was as strange as mine?