Pantsing and Stripping Forums

Synopsis: Julie is tired of life as a boring housewife. She is trading midnight fantasies with her husband and admits she would enjoy streaking and performing humiliating dares for him. He has one condition - if we are doing this, then you have to do whatever I tell you!
Sex Contents: Some Sex
Genre: Incest
Tags: Ma/Fa, mt/Fa, Consensual, Slut Wife, Incest, Mother, Son, Father, Daughter, Humiliation, Light Bond, Spanking, Group Sex, Swinging, Anal Sex, Exhibitionism, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Big Breasts, Illustrated

CHAPTER ONE:

I guess I was going stir crazy due to the pandemic. My family had been cooped up in the house for so long that every day started to feel like that movie “Ground Hog Day” – just a repeat of the same old slog.

My husband and I were working from home. We were never apart long enough to have much to talk about. It wasn’t like I could ask how his day went. I knew perfectly well since we both shared an office upstairs.

My kids were doing virtual learning because the high schools were shut down. My son Teddy loved it because he was the shy, quiet type, but all of my kids were getting on each other’s nerves and mine.

I do not know why I did what I did. It was silly, really. It was 2 in the morning and after a very boring evening of watching Netflix with my husband until we both fell asleep, I decided to get a drink of water.

I should have put some clothes on, but I didn’t bother. I had grown used to wearing jammies, sweat pants and tank tops around the house. I was so comfortable perhaps I didn’t think about going to the kitchen in the nude.

At least, not at first. I stumbled down the hallway in the dark and made my downstairs to the kitchen. I almost turned around and put my robe on. It would have been a simple matter to pluck one from the bathroom door and fetch my drink. I told myself that I didn’t want to wake my husband. Steve was snoring and I doubt he would have heard me anyway.

I realized I was being silly. This was MY house after all. I paid half of the bills and If I wanted to stumble around naked in the dark, then I would! I giggled a little. I might have had a little too much wine that night. I was tired of being boring and for once I wanted to get a little crazy and do something spontaneous! Even risky!

I had a daring smirk firmly planted on my face by the time I jiggled my big butt down the stairs and dashed toward the kitchen. For no reason at all, I dashed behind the sofa and chair like a ninja trying to infiltrate my own home.

I was safe in the knowledge that my kids were sound asleep. I could actually do anything I wanted. It was a startling revelation and strangely intoxicating to let loose of my inhibitions and dash into the kitchen naked. I felt the cold tile on my bare feet and felt this exhilarating sense of freedom.

I hadn’t gone streaking since I was a teenager. I remember I used to skinny dip on camping trips with my boyfriend and our circle of friends. I was never the one to bring it up or lead everyone into getting naked but I was usually one of the first to pop her top. It was so much easier when other girls did it with me. It felt naughty back then and suddenly those old feelings gave me some strange tingles.

Instead of water, I picked out some boxed wine and poured myself a glass. “I could stand in the kitchen window and flash the driveway!” I thought to myself. It was the middle of the night in the suburbs. The chances of being seen were nil but it was even the slight risk that I might get caught that always used to thrill me the most.

Back in high school, my friend group consisted of two other girls and three guys. We had all seen each other naked plenty of times. I had dated two of the boys and even kissed one of those girls on a dare once. It was never really that big of a deal to strip down and go swimming together. The only time I got the heebie-jeebies was on the off-chance my parents might come home and catch us swimming in the pool or someone might see us through the fence. I don’t think anyone ever found out – but it was always that risk that got my excitement going.

I hadn’t thought about those old times in years. I was a married woman with teenagers of my own. Yet, tonight I wanted to feel those feelings again. I was feeling bored of myself. I slid across the tile floor like Tom Cruise in the movie “Risky Business” and then began to dance on my tippy toes in front of the kitchen window.

At first, I hustled across the window, but after my third or fourth pass I was jiggling my big tits and giggling. It was great fun and I was all smiles. That is until I turned around to pick up my glass of wine and take a sip. I saw my youngest son Teddy standing there looking right at me.

I was caught red-handed and totally embarrassed. I went from free-spirited extrovert dancing and shaking her tits to humiliated house wife in a split sobered second. What could I say? How could I explain my behavior?



I stood there in the dark while he looked me up and down. I felt suddenly aware of my big tits and bushy pubes. I was mortified!I couldn’t tell if he was cringing, blushing, freaking out, or impressed. He might have been all of those things in combination. It was impossible to tell in that moment what my son might be thinking.

I said nothing, took a sip of my wine and walked up stairs as if I had clothes on. I felt this strange panic like my entire world had collapsed and I had to flee. I couldn’t explain myself and so I clammed up.

What else could I do?

I wanted to tell Steve about it. I had to tell somebody, but he was out like a light. I stayed up all night wondering what Teddy must think about me. I assumed he thought I might be a little crazy.

The next day, my youngest son said nothing at breakfast. He looked at me a little strangely but he didn’t address what he had seen. I was thankful for that. If he had said something, I doubted the others would have noticed. Steve was caught up reading the news on his cell phone. My daughter Cindy and my other son Daniel were getting on each other’s nerves. We were in such close quarters that it was fairly common. Cindy can be surly in the morning and she tends to poke Daniel to get a response. I think it’s amusing to her to see his reaction.

I tried to forget about my silly experience that night. I really did, but I couldn’t. I kept reliving it in my head and wondering what my son thought of me. I should have probably had a conversation with him about it but I was so embarrassed that I didn’t. I told myself that I didn’t want to make things weirder for him.

Instead, one night while I was lying in bed with Steve, I told him what had happened. I needed to confide in someone. I thought Steve would not understand or tell me that I was disgusting but instead he seemed almost turned on by it.

“I am his mom,” I reminded my husband.

“You are a sexy milf,” Steve assured me playfully. “What will you do the next time he catches you?”

“What do you mean, the next time?” I assured Steve that was a one-time only thing. It was lightning in a bottle -and a bit of a fluke. I told him a combination of boredom, wine and reliving old thrills that I’ve long since outgrown.

“Why? You clearly enjoyed it. You are smiling when you told me the story,” Steve grinned back at me.

“I am smiling because it was deeply humiliating but it was also my fault. I can laugh at myself, Steve. I shouldn’t have told you about this,” I started to turn over. “I am just bored of myself sometimes. You know?””What do you mean?””I shouldn’t say this, because we have a great life together, great kids, and I love you! A part of me wants to be more adventurous, or different or something. I am bored of me.””I am not,” Steve confirmed that he loved me. That was sweet. He just wasn’t getting what I was trying to tell him. I wasn’t unhappy with our relationship. I was unhappy with the fact that I was a predictable, boring person. “I think I would like to do roleplay or something exciting, but I do not even know what turns me on anymore. I am just plain boring, Steve. I shouldn’t have said anything,” I grunted and tried to end the conversation.

“No, no, don’t stop talking about it. I get it. I’d like to do something different too, but we never talk about it.” Steve comforted me. “I miss these midnight confessions. I remember when we first got together we used to share our secret fantasies and talk all night.”

“I remember your secret fantasy involved having sex with my best friend Marcie,” I snickered. I always assumed Steve was just trying to make me jealous and tease me. I was sure he’d have had sex with her if I had allowed it though. Marcie was kind of a wild-child back in high school, always drinking and going out with different guys.

“No, to have a THREE-WAY with Marcie, you would be invited too!” Steve smiled broadly as he clarified his fantasy.

“Oh gosh, thanks! I am glad I’d be invited,” I winked at him and rolled back over. My tone was playfully sarcastic. “I don’t think you could have handled the two of us at once.”

“Twenty year old me, or forty-two year old me?” Steve asked with a wry grin.

“That depends, are we going to get twenty year old Marcie and me drunk first?” I was having a laugh with my husband about what might have been.

“You would never have done it anyway,” Steve grunted sourly. His reaction was harsh and abrupt.

“Hey, I would love to make your fantasies come true, Steve McGregor. I could call Marcie but would her husband Mike agree?”

“He could come too!” Steve laughed.

“Oh, would you and he get it on?” I giggled playfully.

“No, but you would,” Steve promised. He was so cock-sure and certain that I would.

“I’d like to see you make me,” I snickered. I was glad that Steve was joking again. However, there was something in his tone that suggested he wasn’t joking. We’d never cheated on each other and we weren’t swingers. This was the first time in a long time we’d ever talked about fantasies and I was enjoying the conversation.

“That’s probably how we’d have to do it,” Steve observed sagely. He nodded his head as if agreeing with his own assessment.

“What do you mean how WE’D have to do it?” I asked him what he meant by that. I was merely joking.

“Well, it would have to be a bit of a game, you know?” Steve replied cryptically.

I admit that I prodded him to continue but I was wary because I felt he might be serious. “I would have to give you dares. It couldn’t be your own idea. That’s why you are too chicken to go dance in front of the kitchen window on your own. You need to be able to blame the wine, but If I dared you to do it then you could. If we do this together, then you have to agree to trust me and do exactly as I tell you. That’s the deal.”

“Oh, really?” I was amused by my husband’s conclusion. His theory sounded absurd. I was intrigued by his suggestion. A part of me wanted to do something naughty and I was game to try it if it wasn’t too crazy. I was getting turned on by the idea of doing something totally out of character for myself. It sounded so over the top that I wasn’t sure it would be more than pillow talk.”Okay, I am game, I do trust you, Steve,” my mind was a bit of a whirlwind. I still had a bit of a buzz from wine, but I was sober enough to know that Steve was serious.

“I dare you to go downstairs and dance naked back and forth in front of the kitchen with the curtains wide open. I want you to do the MC Hammer dance and act silly for fifteen minutes. You can set the timer on the Alexa and inform me when you start through the intercom.

“Oh, I will?” I found his fantasy incredulous. Yet I was flattered that my husband wanted me to do something that daring. Did he really? It was exciting to think about. Did I dare?

“Yeah, and this time if Timmy sees you then you will tell him that you have to finish dancing and offer to get him anything out of fridge that he wants.”

“Yeah, right? And what if it was Cindy or Daniel?”

“The same thing!”

“Hah, you don’t actually expect me to do this, do you?” I laughed.

“You have to, that is the deal!”

“What do I get if I do it?” I had no intention of taking him up on his offer but I was curious what he had in mind. I assumed that he would offer a back rub or a shopping trip.

“The opportunity to do more dares” my husband offered.

“If I wanted to run around the house naked, I don’t need your permission,” I assured him. I did like the idea of having him tell me what I had to do. Yet, if I really wanted to do something I didn’t need ‘permission’.

“No, you don’t need my permission, but you won’t DO the things you need. If you are bored of old Julie, then you need to trust me. You do NEED me to dare you, push you, bend you, but not break you. We’ll explore that and get a little kinky. It will be fun. You want to see if you can get away with it, don’t you?”He was right. I did want to find out if I could pull off his dare. I really wouldn’t intentionally dare myself to do something that silly. My enthusiasm was starting to take off for this new game – whatever it was.

“You are serious aren’t you, Steve? We’ve got work in the morning,” I tried to avoid answering his question. A part of me was intrigued but not enough to actually act upon it.

“All the more reason to stop bargaining with me and do as you are told,” he said. It was so decisive and definite. I liked it.

There was something so audacious about how Steve phrased his comment. Do I as I am told? That wasn’t normal in our marriage. We were partners and equals, and being talked down to normally set me off, but there was just enough of a humorous intent to his tone that I didn’t squabble.

“How will you know that I am dancing?” I asked as I sighed and tried to mentally prepare myself for my new task. I thought perhaps that I had an out. Steve would have to come with me. I don’t know why that would make the task any easier. I suppose perhaps I thought he might reject the dare if he might be caught in the act with me.

“Take your cell phone downstairs, and I’ll watch you on camera,” he said. “Don’t be a chicken! When you can chicken dance,” he squawked his arms back and forth.

“You better not record this,” I offered an exasperated sigh and stood up with my phone. I couldn’t believe that I had given in, but at the same time a part of me DID want to do the dare. I didn’t know it at the time but a part of me wanted to prove something to myself, or perhaps to him. I convinced myself that lightning couldn’t strike the same place twice and it was unlikely my son would catch me tonight anyway.

I was right.

I got downstairs and started the timer. I started to dance but without wine, it was impossibly silent in the kitchen. I felt so silly dancing by myself. “You should be down here with me,” I grinned.

“Oh no, this is the game,” he chuckled on the other end of the phone. He made it fun by humming some songs, but it was the longest, most awkward 15 minutes of my life. I jiggled my butt, flapped my tits, flapped my arms, shook my thighs, even twerked and clapped my butt cheeks toward the end.

When it was obvious that I wouldn’t be caught, I felt so elated that I had “gotten away with it”. I dashed back upstairs and didn’t even slow my footfalls. I jumped on Steve’s cock and fucked him nice and hard. He came pretty quickly, and when he fell asleep, I brought out my dildo from under the bed and finished the job.

The next night I expected Steve would have a new dare for me. He had been so bold and direct the previous night that it was disappointing that he fell asleep right away. I got myself off and fell asleep thinking about the game we played the night before.

I didn’t mention it again for the next two or three nights. I kept waiting for my husband to bring it up, and it was frustrating that he didn’t. “I won the dare the other night didn’t I?” I asked as I laid in the bed next to him.

“Yeah, yeah,” he smiled and said I certainly had.

“You said that I get other dares if I won, but you haven’t given me any,” I pouted.

That comment perked him up right away. “I didn’t think you enjoyed it. You slogged through it and looked miserable.”

“It’s hard to dance for fifteen minutes straight with NO music, Steve,” I assured him.

“Fine, you can do the Electric Slide tonight,” he joked.

“Yeah, and then the kids really would wake up,” I laughed.

“So?”

“Don’t be silly! They’d freak out,” I warned him. The last thing I wanted to do was explain this silly game to them.

“At first, yes. Then you say that you are doing dares,” he said as if that explained my actions perfectly. It was the truth but would hardly make sense to my kids.

“Oh sure, and then THEY would probably give me a dare to do,” I replied sarcastically.

“What would be wrong with that?” he asked.

“Steve, don’t be ridiculous,” I dismissed his answer.

“Think about it. If they gave you a dare, and you did it then what is the harm? They have a laugh, you have a laugh. It’s all good.”

“I’d be naked!” I pounded his chest half-playfully.

“Yeah, but if they are laughing, they aren’t freaking out,” he twisted my nipple playfully. It didn’t hurt but I didn’t enjoy it either. It wasn’t like him to touch me like that.

“I’d rather you give me a dare that doesn’t involve watching me humiliate myself,” I twisted his nipple right back.

“Spoil sport,” Steve snickered. He told me that I could wrap a towel around my waist and run three laps around the entire house OUTSIDE. “You must twist your nipples like that the ENTIRE time” he demonstrated the annoying way that he pulled and twisted my nipples.

“How am I supposed to hold the phone?” I asked in a smart-alecky way. He hadn’t thought this out and I got a little joy out of poking holes in his idea.

“You can hold it in your mouth, and if it drops, you can hold it between your pussy lips while you jog the rest of the way,” he assured me as he pulled my nipples hard and let go. I have to admit that after that time it did feel strangely arousing to tease my nipples like that. I insisted that I would not be putting my phone inside of my pussy.

“I know, because you won’t drop it the first time, but if you do- that’s the deal.”

“ ... and if the neighbors or our kids see me?”

“You are just out doing dares. You wanted to stop being boring – okay, put your money where your mouth is.”

“I can’t believe you want me to do this. Is fucking Marcie still on the table?” I joked that I’d rather swap with my old high school friend and her husband than do this dare. I was already standing up and getting a towel. I was excited to play along, even if I sounded reluctant.I picked the biggest beach towel I had. My husband insisted I pick a regular bath towel and pretended that I was cheating.

That night, I dashed around the entire house in the middle of the night while the midnight dew glistened on my body. My heart nearly stopped when I saw headlights come down our lonely street, but I was positive I wasn’t seen. If I had been, I am sure all hell would have broken lose and they would have called the police on the crazy woman.

I was able to dash behind a bush and wait for the garbage truck to drive on by. They had no clue that I was naked. It felt exhilarating – like stealing probably felt when you get away with it. I didn’t drop the phone until I rounded the stairs and hopped back in bed. I fucked my husband’s brains out, and this time I got myself off before he came. I didn’t even mind sleeping in the wet spot.

Our games continued nightly for two weeks. They always involved flashing and streaking either in the house or around the neighborhood. He rarely sent me out of the house completely naked. He usually let me wear sandals and a robe or a towel, but I was given instructions that I had to let it fly open or only cover my waist.

There was something strangely arousing about having SOMETHING to cover my nudity. I would cling to it even though it was absurd that I’d be outside with just a towel wrapped around my waist and my tits flapping in the breeze in the first place.

It was like jumping into shark infested water, but knowing you had a life preserver and that unless you went really deep you couldn’t be bitten. It gave me a sense of security, and my husband’s dares only increased in intensity.

I was running as far as the nearby stop sign where my kids would take the bus (if they weren’t on lockdown), and sometimes the dares lasted thirty minutes to almost an hour. There was a sexual component to the dares, but they were mostly silly.

As an example, my husband mapped out a dozen bushes or hiding spots that I had to squat down and masturbate behind for five minutes. It sounds silly, but that’s a lot of time and I was so horny by the end that I fucked his brains out.

I had my phone in my mouth the entire time, and I was proud that I had never dropped it!

I would also have to tweak or pinch my nipples, or even stick my finger in my butt sometimes. He made up all these special conditions for each stations where I had to play with myself a different way. I would never have done any of this on my own. The part that was REALLY working for me the most was that Steve loved it and I loved how excited he got.

The best part was that my kids were oblivious, and every day no longer felt like the same old thing day after day. The game was a cure for the monotony brought on by lockdown, and I was growing increasingly confident and perhaps careless about the dares that I accepted.The game was as much as my idea as it was his. It was really me who started things and I think it just evolved organically into an understanding that if he told me to do something naughty or outrageous I would have to do it. I liked doing what he told me. I sometimes freaked out and got terrified but it was a fun sort of fear – like being on a thrill ride and not the kind like being chased by an ax wielding maniac. The risks were fun, and our sex life improved tremendously right away.

I never refused any of my husband’s dares. We didn’t really discuss the rules about where the line was in what he could dare me to do. It was just assumed that around 1 or 2 am and we were certain everyone was asleep that my husband could give me instructions and I would do them.

“Okay, tonight I want you to crush up a dozen Oreos, and spread them on the kitchen floor. Then you will get down on your hands and knees and lap them up. You can place a small saucer of milk next to it and lap that up as well if you get thirsty. You can’t return until you are finished.”

That wasn’t the first time food was involved in our dares. Oreos are my favorite cookie when I am feeling blue, and my husband knew that. It was the first time he wanted me to crawl around on my hands and knees though.

“Can I refuse these dares?” I asked. I decided that we probably needed some sort of boundary because I wasn’t relishing hurting my knees on the kitchen floor. It seemed unnecessary and deeply humiliating.

“No,” was his simple response.

“Then they aren’t dares. They are orders,” I corrected him.

“Yes,” he replied confidently. It seemed so out of character for him. This was the man who could never decide what restaurant we should go to because he wanted to know what I wanted to eat. We’d spend 15-20 minutes discussing it before deciding to just eat in. Covid had made going out to eat impossible now though, and strangely I found it arousing that my husband seemed so decisive.

“So, You aren’t daring me to go eat cookies off of the kitchen floor. You are telling me that I must do it?” I phrased my question rhetorically because I wanted my husband to understand he was going a bit far.

“Yes, and from now on, I would rather you stop bargaining with me. You know you are doing it.”

“You don’t know that,” I insisted dryly. He swatted my ass playfully and told me that just for that I had to climb down the stairs in the nude on my hands and knees. I had no idea how difficult it was to climb stairs while on your hands and knees. I had to take each step and work carefully not to fall. All the while holding my phone in my mouth.

I grumbled into the phone. “I have to set this down to eat, Steve.”

“Stop taking the phone out to talk to me. Just do what you are told, and turn off your brain, Julie. You can take the phone out to eat, that’s it. Put it on the counter, slut.”

I gritted my teeth around the phone and placed it carefully on the tile floor. How dare he call me a slut? This was fun though. I kind of liked it because I WAS being a slut. This was so not like “me” that it was refreshing even if it was silly and humiliating.

I stood up and began to smash a dozen Oreo cookies into bits. My boobs were jiggling when my son Teddy walked in and caught me in the middle of it.

My eyes shot open wide. All of the stubbly hairs on the back of my neck and the rest of my body stood on edge as if an wave of static electricity had just passed through my body. I instantly regretted performing the dare and becoming so complacent about hiding out in plain sight. I should have known better, and yet it was too late to put the cat back in the box.

What to do now?

(This was before I learned to make AI art)

“What are you doing?” Teddy asked the 64,000 dollar question.

“What are YOU doing?” I asked reflexively. My son was dressed in his jammies and I was the naked one.

“I am getting something to drink,” he replied as he ogled me. I felt his eyes burning into my nipples. I wished that they weren’t so erect.

“Get it and go,” I insisted. I had at least managed to speak to my son this time. He walked around me and stared at me oddly. He got his drink and retreated upstairs.

I picked my phone up and spoke into the camera. My husband could barely contain his amusement. “I am glad you think this is funny. If Teddy had walked in a minute or two later he would have caught me on the floor!”

“Yep,” Steve chuckled. I told him that I was coming back upstairs and he insisted that I stay and finish my assignment. He assured me that it was very unlikely that Teddy would return.

“My heart nearly jumped out of my throat, Steve,” I assured him. Steve convinced me to stay and finish the dare that I had been assigned. I didn’t want to but a part of me is fairly stubborn about finishing what I start. I definitely didn’t enjoy it and the entire time I kept thinking about what my son thought about it.

Steve found it hilarious.

“He’d have to be confused about the crushed Oreos,” I reminded Steve while I rode his dick and fucked him silly when I returned to the bedroom.

“You are worried about what he thought about why you were crushing up cookies?” Steve laughed as he slid in and out of me. His fingers slid into my asshole. I let him play with my butt. He liked it but I didn’t. He hadn’t taken much interest in assplay in a long time.

“Obviously, the entire scenario was crazy, but yeah I mean what if he asks what I was doing with the cookies?”

“Tell him you were making a little midnight snack,” he joked.

The next morning things returned to normal for us at breakfast. Everyone was tuned to their cell phones or bickering about something. I was looking at my phone as well.

“What does that tattoo say on your butt?” Teddy asked at the kitchen table. Everyone’s head snapped out of their phones and all eyes were on me.

I blushed. It wasn’t part of the deal that Teddy was going to say something in front of his siblings.

“Mom? You’ve got a tattoo on your ass?” Cindy smiled wickedly. I knew she instantly felt she had leverage over me to get whatever body piercing or bad decision she wanted to make because I had that tattoo.

“It’s just an old tattoo,” I looked down at my feet. I was wearing sweatpants and footsie slippers. “Snoopy on his dog house as a biplane against the Red Baron,” I grimaced. How I got the tattoo was a long (and boring) story but suffice to say that I regretted it and hadn’t thought about it in years. I got that back in my rebellious twenties as a fuck you to my father and naturally I never showed it to my parents.

“You have a Peanut’s tattoo?” Daniel was excited “I want to see!”. He’s much more outgoing than his little brother and a little brash.

“Yeah, Mom,” Cindy laughed.

I immediately shot them down. They could ask all they wanted but I made it clear that I wasn’t going to budge on it and I assumed that would be all there was to it.

“They want to see. Show them,” Steve said like it was an order. He gave me a knowing look like he was playing the midnight game we play in bed with me.

“Steve...” I pleaded. It was one thing to give me orders in the bedroom but not in front of my kids.

“How did you see it anyway? Scro! Peeping on mom?” Daniel teased his little brother.

“Not really, Mom was...” Teddy was about to spill the beans about catching me nude in the kitchen and I assumed perhaps tell my dirty little secret about being caught before.

I stood up and abruptly pulled my sweatpants down to expose my right ass cheek. I felt if I just came clean and acted like it was not a big deal then the matter would get dropped.

Cindy and Danny both made raucous comments about the size and detail of my tattoo. At the time that I got it, I had a crush on the tattoo artist, and I told him to draw whatever he wanted because I couldn’t think of anything. In retrospect, it was something I regretted but had largely forgotten.

My kids teased me a little but in a little while it was forgotten, and their heads disappeared back into their phones. There was a lot of snickering and bemused expressions from all four of the rest of my family though and I suppose it was kind of funny.

Later that night in bed, my husband was ready to play again. “See? They asked to see the tattoo, you showed them and no big deal. No fuss, no muss.”

“Easy for you to say,” I replied sarcastically. I had been terrified and I assumed that I’d never hear the end of the jokes about Snoopy and Charlie Brown. “You are the one that gets to tell me what to do.”

Saying that out loud made it real to me for a moment. It was all a silly game to me, but hearing myself say “You are the one that gets to tell me what to do.” Framed things a little differently for me.

“Yes, and it was easier to simply do as they asked. If you had refused, they would have kept asking over and over and made a big deal. You satisfied their curiosity and that was the end of it.”

“Well, that should be the end of our games, Steve. We are being irresponsible, and this house is way too small to keep playing without them finding out.”

“They already found out and they didn’t care,” Steve replied.

“They just know I have a tattoo,” I explained that Teddy hadn’t told them everything he saw that night. I intercepted him before he could tell them more.

“You don’t think they talk? They know. They don’t care,” he insisted. I didn’t believe him. He told me that he’d start giving me instructions during the day from now on.

I was not interested in that at all, but Steve made it sound like I was already in too deep to refuse and that he had to prove a point to me. I wanted to keep performing the nighttime escapades but I was terrified that we would go too far and the kids would find out.

“Find out what? that you follow instructions?”

“These aren’t just instructions, Steve. These are pull my nipples and slap my clit and do a Hula dance around the house,” I snickered.

“Yeah, and?”

“They will think I am crazy,” I insisted.

“Everyone is a little crazy. They’ll laugh and not care. You’ll see,” he said. “You agreed to the deal, do you want to stop?”

“No,” I said emphatically. I wanted to do naughty things like this even MORE. I just hated to admit it out loud or to myself. “I want to keep going, Steve.”

I opened my dresser drawer to retrieve my dildo. It wasn’t where I left it. I immediately panicked. I had a deep relationship and dependency on that dildo, it was my old faithful that always got me off.

“Nope, you can’t have it until you behave,” Steve waited until the initial shock of realizing it wasn’t where I left it sunk in to let me know he hid it.

“Where is it, Steve?”

“You can’t play with yourself unless you have permission,” he insisted.

I insisted that I could finger fuck myself anytime I pleased.

“Nope, you have to earn it.”

I don’t know why I didn’t masturbate just to prove a point. I think I would have felt self-conscious finger fucking myself while my husband looked down his nose at me. There was a part of me that wanted his approval and I think it would have been impossible to have an orgasm after that conversation even if I tried.

The next day, my husband laid out some shorty-shorts for me to wear. He chopped up a good pair of denim shorts with scissors and made them impossibly revealing. He told me that I could wear one of the tank tops that I normally wear but no bra, and the shorts.

“C’mon, Steve. The kids don’t want to see my boobs hanging out,” I said.

“Let’s ask them then,” my husband grabbed the clothes and started to head for our bedroom door as if he was going to put up to a family vote.

I grabbed them back from him. I didn’t want him to ASK them. “Fine, but if they need therapy because of this then it is your fault,” I half joked. I warned him that if any of them ask me to put more clothes on then that would be the end of it.

“Yep, anything they ask you to do, you won’t say no. You’ll just do it.”

“Hardee, har-har,” I assumed he was joking. I could imagine the chaos of a household where I just gave in to every whim that my kids had and agreed to do it.

Cindy seemed amused with what I had on. I had expected that, but I thought she’d have something really snarky to say. Daniel and Teddy didn’t seem to notice at all, or if they did, they didn’t seem to care. I wanted them to make sarcastic comments so that I could prove to my husband that he’d been wrong about his prediction.

I felt silly working in the outfit, but on Zoom meetings I often kept my camera off. My tits felt pendulous and they swung as I walked without a bra. I liked the freedom of not wearing a bra but not the way it made me feel so vulnerable and exposed.

My nipples got extremely hard at times, and I was certain the kids might notice. If they they did, they didn’t say anything though. I assumed they would tease me or ask me to put my bra back on. It was Covid though and we were all more comfortable in tank tops and sweats now. I played it off like it was no big deal and tried not to think about my boobs jiggling.

I have to admit that while most of this sounds like my husband’s idea, I was the willing participant who was eagerly awaiting his instructions. I didn’t want my kids (or anyone else) to find out about my naughty games. However, I was hiding out in plain sight and my husband frequently gave me little assignments around the house.

The instructions were usually fairly innocuous during daylight hours. I wasn’t streaking through the house and dancing a jig in front of the kitchen window in broad daylight. These were secret little games that we got away with largely because the kids were too caught up in their own lives and cell phones to notice.

My sex life dramatically improved. When my husband initially forbid me to masturbate I found it to be unfair, unjust and silly. How could he KNOW what I did in the privacy in the bathroom anyway?

I don’t know if Steve realized it but when he hid my dildo I became intensely frustrated. The frustration of not being able to do what I wanted when I wanted had a strange impact on me. I had never had anyone tell me that I couldn’t play with myself. It was not something I ever felt I had to qualify or justify.

I wasn’t prepared for the lusty feelings of longing to be touched and being generally horny all of the time. I assumed that was how young men felt most of the time. My pussy began to drip and get wet when I felt a cold draft, or had a dirty thought. It only made me hunger for our games.

I had gotten away with dashing about nearly naked in the backyard or in the kitchen, even running to the stoplight and back. I was getting away with doing naughty things during the day right under my kid’s noses. Steve permitted me to have my dildo and fuck myself in my sweatpants while I sat on a Zoom meeting and I nearly had an orgasm during the presentation. I had to put myself on mute!

No one on the office Zoom meeting had any inkling that I was masturbating and I was able to make eye contact with them while I did!

I could also wear skimpy little black negligees and zip around the house like a nymphomaniac in heat – shaking my butt and thinking dirty thoughts. It was quite scandalous and the idea that my husband was ‘making me’ behave this way only added fuel to my lustful fantasies.

I was happy with the new rules and how my relationship with my husband was evolving but ready for more. “I kind of like being told what to do,” I told my husband as I went down on him in bed that night. I didn’t usually suck his cock because he never reciprocated but I was trying to butter him up. I was also just feeling really dirty -like a slut. I wanted him to call me a slut again. It was so dirty!

He rubbed my hair ‘I can see it in your eyes. You have to stop asking if I am sure I want you to do something when I give you an instruction. If I tell you to do something then I want you to do it. That’s the deal,” he insisted.

I had a terrible habit of asking him if he was sure when he asked me to do something terrifying or potentially humiliating. It was a stalling tactic on my part, but I told him that was because I wasn’t sure if he was joking.

“Just assume that I am not, and if I am I’ll tell you,” my husband sounded so confident. I kept licking and slurping his dick. I am sure he was on an ego trip but he deserved it. This game was fun and I was enjoying pleasing him. I was getting off on turning him on but also hopeful that at the end he was going to let me have an extended masturbation session. I hoped he would watch and not just fall asleep.

“I want you to call Marcie and invite her over,” Steve told me. I knew immediately he was implying that he really wanted a four-way swinger situation. “Don’t you dare ask me if I am sure,” he caught me as I was about to say it and twisted my left nipple roughly.

“That’s a big step, Steve,” I replied breathlessly.

“The deal is that you follow my instructions. I have an assignment for you. Invite her over and make it clear what we are going to do.”

“Are you really okay with another man having his way with me?” I pouted. I was uncomfortable with the idea of sharing my partner and myself. I suppose it was insecurities and just the fact that this was something that I had been raised to believe was wrong.

“You are going to be my little slut! We’ll do this together. It isn’t cheating because we’ll both be fully aware and if it gets weird, I promise we’ll stop! You said you were bored of who you were and your life.”

“I did?” I shrugged with confusion.

My husband told me that I said that all the time to him in private. I suppose that I did because in my heart I there was truth to what he was saying. “I am bored of me, but should we really do this?”

“We can try it once and if it sucks, then I won’t tell you to do it again,” Steve assured me.

“Well, you aren’t ASKING me, so technically I can’t say no,” I giggled as I played with his cock by licking the tip with my tongue wickedly.

The next day I reached out to my old friend Marcie Flynn. We were still friends on Facebook, and she seemed to be living the typical housewife life of her own with her husband and kids of her own. We caught up rather quickly and I do not recall exactly what I said but she immediately got the hint that I was inviting to have a four-way. I felt a kindred spirit in Marcie that she felt complacent, bored and a little stir crazy due to Covid lock downs as well.

They were right on time on Friday night to have dinner at our house. I was so nervous and constantly fidgeting in the kitchen. The kids had no reason to suspect anything was out of the ordinary. We used to have guests over for dinner before the pandemic, but we certainly hadn’t done anything like this since it began.

Marcie and Mike arrived wearing Covid masks. We put ours on as well even though it seemed silly since we had been walking around the house and breathing on everything anyway. It was the polite thing to do. Marcie was wearing a top that showed off her cleavage and it caught the attention of both of my sons and my husband.

I felt that was Mike’s intention because he and Marcie seemed rather pleased that she was getting all of the attention while I prepared dinner. We removed our masks and made small talk, drank wine and had what would pass for any normal small talk conversation. It was strangely surreal to think that in a few short hours we’d be humping our brains out for the firs time together but the four of us were all quite certain that was going to happen.

I drank more and more wine – probably a bit more than I should have.

I don’t remember the kids going to bed, and I don’t remember how the four of us ended up in our bedroom. I suppose I thought (naively) that in “Wife swapping” that Mike would take me into another room and have sex with me alone while my husband had his way with Marcie alone.

That wasn’t how it was at all. Mike tore his wife’s clothes off and she giggled while he slapped her butt as she splayed herself out on my bed. Steve stripped and I took my own clothes off. My inhibitions were loose because of the wine but I was still terribly nervous. It was a good thing that I was sloshed because the awkward part at first was really not worth describing.

I didn’t know what the rules of engagement were, or where to put my hands and so Steve and I started to make love next to Marcie and Mike. I assumed the point of wife swapping was that you were supposed to be with someone else. However, I think we were all more comfortable with our spouses and so that is how we began.

It was fairly normal sex for us, but Mike and Marcie really went at it. Marcie is a screamer and she is also a ‘squirter’ (all over my expensive bedspread). “Destroy my asshole, Mike! Punish it!” she demanded while she was in the throes of passion.

I was never much for dirty talk. I never knew what to say and it didn’t do anything for me. However, it excited the guys. Mike spit on his wife’s asshole and then reamed her by impaling his cock straight up her anus. There were no fingers or working up to it – he just completely butt fucked her. I had never seen anything like it.

“Get in here, Steve! Let’s spit roast this pig!!” Mike had clearly done something like this before because he was right at home with sharing his wife. Marcie enthusiastically went right along with it. Her husband forced his cock into Marcie’s ass and pulled her arms behind her. He bent his wife over and she went down on my husband and deep throated his entire cock.

She didn’t care that my pussy juices were coating his dick. My friend didn’t stop to wipe it off, either. She just opened her gob and swallowed him whole like a lusty little whore. At first, I thought I was jealous and maybe on some level I was envious but not possessive.

It wasn’t that I minded sharing my husband. It turned me on that my old high school friend was into MY man. The sense that I was feeling was inadequacy. I would have had to remove my jaw to be able to engulf my husband’s member and learn not to gag like a sword swallower as it disappeared down her gullet.

As Mike thrust his dick in between his wife’s sweaty ass crack, her long brown hair seemed to be everywhere at once as she allowed herself to become the Oreo Stuffing to two men treating her like a cookie they were crushing. She swallowed Mike’s dick as she thrust forward and then her husband pulled her back off of it and down on his dick as if he was trying to split her in two.

I felt useless, like a third wheel. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I could only watch the two men ravish Marcie and feel desperately like I wanted to be where she was. I wanted to be the center of attention, but I’d neither the experience with anal or deep throating to be in that precarious position.

I also felt like the second banana compared to her. She had smaller tits than me and a flabbier butt, but she used it all very well and a pretty shaved pussy. Marcie’s pubes were completely bald. I thought at first that she must be humiliated looking like a little girl but she looked sexy gliding on her husband as she diggled her clit and let him fuck her butt without any restrictions.

I wanted to BE Marcie, but I also wanted her approval. I can’t quite explain it but I felt that I just wasn’t being ‘lusty enough’ and I wanted in on what they were doing. My husband must have noticed because he changed positions and commanded us to kiss.

I barely French kissed my husband anymore. He tended not to brush his teeth before bed and it was an incredibly personal action. It wasn’t ‘sexually arousing’ to me to kiss. It was something you did for affection, and I wasn’t interested in doing it with Marcie.

I closed my eyes and told myself that this was one of my husband’s ‘instructions’ to make it more palatable. I have to admit that when I opened my mouth and let Marcie slip her tongue in, it felt nice. It felt different and passionate. She tickled my teeth and sucked my breath away. It made me feel like a schoolgirl kissing a strange boy in a dark closet during a party game of seven minutes in heaven.

“Eat me out,” Marcie immediately laid down on her back and splayed her legs apart for me. Her pussy was soaked. Things had escalated from Frenching my former friend to going down on her wet, musky pussy. Her slit tasted like sour piss and had the texture of warm roast beef. It was admittedly my first time going down on a girl. I was always told other women knew what each other wanted.

She called me “pussy licker” and “dyke” even though I really wasn’t. The dirty names made me angry at first but eventually I got used to them. They sent a shock of pain through me that felt almost like physical pain and it’s strange – I kind of liked it and I found it objectionable as well. It was fine in the heat of the moment.

I didn’t want to eat pussy. She grabbed my ears and held me in place forcing my nose and mouth down inside of her. She used my outstretched tongue like a cock to fuck herself. That’s when I felt my cheeks part. I assumed I’d get fucked in the ass.

Instead, I felt the most cringe-worthy and yet spectacularly mind-blowing feeling of my entire life. It shouldn’t have felt good, and I knew I wasn’t supposed to like it, but fuck did it turn my screws. Mike’s hot breath on my ass was my first clue that he was going to go down on me. He didn’t lick my pussy though. He began to eat my ass out and I mean he really went to town. He pushed his tongue deep into my asshole. I would have felt sorry for him, but I was on this cascade of a new sensation.

I wasn’t having an orgasm, but it was sort of this new sort of euphoria that made me feel uncomfortable and orgasmic all over my body. Most of my orgasms were bound up deep in my brain and worked their way through my diaphragm to my vagina. This was more like letting yourself relaxing during a deep tissue massage or a visit to a chiropractor when they finally hit your spot.

“Oh god, no!!” I demanded. I felt my ass slipping open. His wet slobber coated it and I thought I might let lose a toot or something worse. Yet, I didn’t want him to stop. I dug my fingers into flesh. I don’t know whose, but I clung to that person’s body and squeezed with all of my might. Oh god, that first time was heavenly and so nasty. It was so wrong and disgusting and yet indulgent. I learned this was called “rimming” and what a mind-fuck it was!

I didn’t want him to stop, but I think the worst part of it was that I was afraid to show just how much I loved it because I thought it was so disgusting. What kind of woman wants her ass eaten out? It was filthy and yet I couldn’t get enough of what Mike did to my booty hole.

It was wet, and gross and warm – Mike licked the way I’d imagine a Dog would. Methodically, like he had to get all the salt from around my butthole and he covered every inch around the circle of my anus and even inside. I nearly collapsed on my friend as she spurted her sour pussy juice into my face. We slipped on each other’s sweat and the juices of our sex.

I no longer cared about the mess we were making on the bedspread. I might have to throw the damned thing away and buy a new one, but my mind was elsewhere. After that, it was cocks in our mouths, between our tits, in our pussies, and yes in my ass. At first, I screamed something that sounded like trembling pain – animalistic. However, in time I was begging for more.

Mike and Steve must have came two or three times each, which for my husband was a personal record. He was a one-shot and done man for our entire marriage. Now, I was electric and writhing around with three other people. I was no longer sure where my husband began and the others ended. I tasted pussy, assholes, dicks, even toes.

It was what I assumed an orgy would be like, even though it was only four people. It felt like there were hands, fingers, and appendages reaching everywhere and exploring me. It was jubilant and I lost track of time and awareness of my own pleasure. I had no thought of modesty around this other couple now.

We were just down and dirty – as nasty as we could be with one another. It was animalistic, rough, wild, pass-around and feel good sex with Marcie and as the main dish to be cum receptacles for the guys. It didn’t matter what finger, what cock, or even what hole either!

Despite it being our first sexual experience together (and my first one sharing my husband), by the end, I felt like a comfortable touching and being touched by them. They certainly thought nothing of asking my consent to touch me. In fact, I liked it that way. Mike reached up and grabbed my ass, smacked my butt.

He pulled his wife’s hair and played rough with her, but he was gentle with me. I felt like Marcie might respect me more if I could loosen up and entice him to be that cavalier with my body. Mike was respectful but lusty and we fell asleep satisfied and well-fucked.

In the morning, I awoke with the taste of semen on my tongue and cum in my hair. I had sores and bruises in new places all over my body. Saturday morning has a sobering effect on lust because now that it was ‘over’ I felt satiated and not inclined to continue what we had started.

Only Marcie wanted to continue. “Eat my pussy, like you did last night, slut!” she demanded as she pointed to her bald slit. I crawled over to her and gave it my best effort, but I was worn out. I was at least thrilled that she thought enough of what I did the night before to ask me to do it again.

Mike and Steve watched as the two of us girls played with each other and rolled around on the bed, but the embers of the bonfire we built last night could not be reignited. We were spent and it was time for them to be going home. They knew it and we knew it. We just didn’t want to be the ones to SAY it.

It was awkward having them leave while the kids were home. Marcie’s hair was fucked up and she didn’t do her make-up or bother fixing her clothes. She kissed me before I left and said she always thought I was ‘submissive’.

I didn’t identify as ‘submissive’. I’d never had any interest in BDSM or bondage and only had a passing understanding of dominance and submission from movies like “50 shades of Gray”. I had no interest in those books or movies. It seemed like being tied up or hurt with whips and chains was a thing that I just couldn’t understand.

Yet, something about the word submissive resonated with me. I didn’t argue. “She follows instructions pretty well,” my husband said proudly. I preened a little and walked the two of them out. I wanted to hurry Mike and Marcie out of the house before my daughter made some embarrassing wise crack about them spending the night and doing the walk of shame out of our bedroom.

“Have a little sleepover, did we?” Cindy waited until Mike and Marcie were gone to make her snarky comment. I turned red-faced and avoided eye contact. I think Steve was proud of himself and basked in his glory for a little while as I made myself scarce.

That evening we were talking about what happened. “Are you up to do that again, my little slut?” Steve mounted me in bed. He wasted no time pushing his cock head up into my crack to fuck my ass.

“I liked it, but what if they didn’t? They haven’t called or anything,” I probably sounded like a nervous teenage girl wondering if the boy that I liked at school liked me back. Steve assured me that we’d see them again.

My husband began to thrust his cock into my ass without priming me. It was hard for me to get used to it but I liked how was just taking me like I didn’t have a choice in the matter. It was different – not like him. He praised me for how well I obeyed him and made him feel powerful.

He admitted that at first that he was concerned about sharing me with Mike. “I got turned on because I knew Mike wanted you and I had you. You belong to me,” Steve told me.

“I do, I do,” I giggled playfully as I writhed on the tip of his cock and tried to masturbate. He slapped my hand away from my clitoris and told me that I needed permission to get off.

“Even in bed?”

“Always, you are much more fun when you are horny! Trust me,” Steve rode me by laying on top of me while he penetrated my asshole. I didn’t care for the dick in my ass, but I liked how hungry Steve was. I felt like a sheep being devoured by a wolf that wanted to consume me completely and it made me feel wanted and alive.

I would have liked it if he rimmed my asshole the way that Mike had the previous night! I was such a dirty slut, and I hated to admit it to myself!

“I’d like to keep doing the game we are doing. Whatever it is called, all the time if I could,” I told my husband with a wintry smile. He could tell that I was sincere about wanting to keep this up but that I had a real concern. He pulled out of my asshole and began to play with me while I stroked his cock. “It’s just that we have kids, and jobs and real lives, bills and groceries that have to be taken care of. We must have made a lot of noise last night. Fucking Marcie was screaming like a banshee in heat,” I whispered somberly.

I could from the look on my husband’s face that he was hearing me but disappointed by my reaction.

“This is a fun fantasy, but what would our kids think of us if we start having more people sleep over? They had to know we got up to something last night,” I said.

“They are teenagers growing up in a fucked-up timeline where they see wild stuff on the Internet, they aren’t toddlers,” Steve was very cavalier about our kids finding out we were swingers. He said there were only two possible outcomes if they knew or suspected. “They can make up a bunch of weird theories that are likely not true, or we can have an honest and open conversation with them. We can tell them we love each other and are in a committed relationship, and that doesn’t change. If they want to know more then we can cross that bridge.”

“I am glad you think it is just that simple,” I kept pulling his cock and playing with it. I tried to imagine having an uncomfortable conversation with my own parents about their private business. It just wasn’t done and the kids shouldn’t know about it.

“Look, do you want to keep having mind-blowing sex and doing what I tell you?”

“Yes,” I giggled a little. I wiped his cock clean with my fingers and began to suck on it. I was trying to figure out how Marcie made it disappear down her throat without choking on it.

“Then you have to TRUST me. If you don’t trust me to make the right decisions then you can’t surrender. You are just taking suggestions until you get one you don’t like to hear. I want to hear you tell me that you will do what I tell you, when I tell you, and how I tell you.”

“You mean sexually? The game? Or with money?” I was half-teasing. I didn’t want Steve to go out and splurge and buy a new car or something without informing me.

“In everything, we’ll take care of the groceries and the bills and keep the lights on. We’ve raised some decent kids and we are a lot better than our parents ever were. My dad was a drunk and yours is an asshole and a racist.”

That was true. My Dad really was openly racist, and I hated that, but I still loved him.

“Okay, yes, Steve,” I agreed. We fucked like it was our wedding night and it was splendid. It wasn’t as life altering as the huge pile-up of writhing bodies the night before. That was a hard act to follow. I kept thinking about how Mike man-handled Marcie. He grabbed her chin and sometimes choked her or pushed her mouth down on his cock. Even though she could swallow it was like he wanted to make her gag. It had to be annoying but there was something primal about how he smacked her ass and pulled her hair and tossed her around the bed. The way he just laid pipe into her pussy or ass without even warming her up and she backed into it and thrust up and down whichever hole he chose to enter.

I found it hard to open up to Steve and ask him to be rough like that with me. I didn’t want to sound like I was criticizing or trying to get him to behave as Mike. I knew that Steve would take that the wrong way. Instead, I would casually put my ass in his face and shake it so that he might slap my butt. I’d try to present opportunities for Steve to grab my hair and even strangle me. It was awkward because at times I felt like Steve was going a bit too far and even being mean. It was different and not quite what I expected.Steve was much more frisky and imaginative in bed after our encounter with the other couple. He wasn’t rough physically like Mike but I loved his vulgar dirty talk. It shocked me to hear the man I love call me a dirty cum slut, whore and even a cunt.

I think that is what turned me on the most about it. He’d invent elaborate scenarios during our love-making and breathlessly whisper them into my ear. “I’ll take you to get a tattoo and make you blow the guy” or “We’ll go out to Applebees and you’ll offer to fuck the waiter”.

I was able to see the fantasy unfold in my head. It didn’t matter how over the top or improbable the fantasy my husband described was. They frequently involved me being a total whore, humiliated and even shamed and ridiculed. It was like I was an observer to what was happening to me when my husband described these things and it excited me!

I found myself frequently whispering “What happens next?” to my fictional alter-ego in these imaginary scenarios. It was intense!

We continued our games that week, and Steve stepped things up. It seemed like every few hours he was coming up with something for me to do around the house that was naughty or humiliating. He started to make me do aerobics around the house.

The kids saw me doing exercises. I’ve done fad diets and made New Years resolutions to lose a few extra pounds before. They thought it was just one of those silly mid-life crises that I start and never continue.

It was just me being “goofy” as far as they knew. I was basically hiding my fantasy in plain sight and that made it all the more fun to be told by my husband what to do.

At first, I could wear sweats and a loose tank top but then he wanted me in skintight stretchy pants that showed off my butt. I felt like my camel toe was easily recognizable but even Cindy wasn’t going to call me out for that.

Marcie and Mike finally broke their silence. I had been trapped in anticipation wondering if we offended them, scared them off or even bored them. It turned out that they wondered the same thing and were more than happy to come over to our house again for a repeat performance the following weekend.

We went to bed EARLY that night and got right to it. There was no awkward fooling around in the beginning where tried to figure out boundaries. We tore into each other and fucked our brains out.

She lent me a ‘butt plug set’ and explained how they worked. She told me that I would need to practice with the smallest one and work my way up. My husband’s cock was longer than the plug but not nearly as wide. Steve loved telling me to sit on it and practice wallowing and grinding my body down on the plug. He thought the faces I made were amusing and they probably were.

I have to admit, I didn’t enjoy training my ass with the plug, but I did love the attention and time my husband was spending coming up with little tasks or assignments for me around the house. It was sexy and our little secret game. The kids had no idea that I served them dinner with a plug up my ass.They saw me wearing sexy outfits and exercising but other than that – this was my dirty little game I was playing with my husband. Even Mike and Marcie didn’t know that my husband and I were playing all of the time.

A week flew by and we had arranged for another ‘sleep over’ with Mike and Marcie. I didn’t feel I needed to explain it to the kids that we were swingers. In my heart I think they kind of knew what we were all going to be up to later that night.

The sex with Marcie and Mike was fantastic!

Marcie enjoyed bossing me around in bed, perhaps more than Mike and Steve did. She was much more verbal about it. They liked to point and shove and force my head in different directions. She liked to talk like a stone cold bitch and demand that I get her off. I felt compelled to do as I was told – and that was the game anyway. I was supposed to follow my husband’s instructions.It felt natural to follow the Flynn’s instructions as well while we were in bed together.

My friend often told me to eat her out, but she never made the same demand from the others, and she didn’t reciprocate by going down on me. She seemed to enjoy getting a rise out of me by telling me lick her pussy and watching my reaction as I rolled over and began to slurp and lick her clit. She had no qualms about giving head, and I have to admit that watching Marcie helped me learn to do anal and give blowjobs like a porn star.

I couldn’t talk dirty like Marcie, but I was growing more ambitious and enthusiastic in bed with them and when I was alone with my husband.

It really paid off that I had been practicing with the butt plug set that Marcie lent me. I doubt I could have kept up with her if not.

My husband LOVED anal sex once the flood gate was open, and I allowed him to do it to me. I’d only ever allowed fingers before we started swinging. After watching Mike and Marcie, I was an ass slut just like Marcie.

I made a valiant attempt to make it seem like they had just drunk too much, and we let them sleep in our room. It was a plausible cover story, and I doubted my kids bought it but they didn’t tease me much about it when Mike and Marcie left.

They seemed to like coming to our house. I wondered if it would be easier if we spent the night at their house or I would feel a sense of shame and embarrassment around Marcie’s sons when I left if they suspected I had made love to their parents the night before.

We invited them back over on Sunday afternoon. It was probably too much to have them back over to play again but It was my husband’s decision, and I had agreed to let him make those decisions. I coordinated it with Marcie.

This time they came over to go swimming and have some beers. Steve put on some Jimmy Buffet and country music and fired up the grill. It was like any normal get together except we were swinging partners with the other couple. They brought their kids over.

They had two sons around Teddy’s age named Jimmy and Joseph and a stuck up blonde daughter named Tiffany.

Marcie’s kids didn’t seem even the slightest bit embarrassed or shocked when Marcie changed into the skimpiest bikini I had ever seen. It was basically a string that ran around her hips and through her legs and then two small hammocks that held her tits in place.

My sons DEFINITELY noticed. “Steve asked me to bring you one of my wicked weasel bikinis. See if this fits,” she tossed me a slinky little fluff of Lycra material.

“Where is the rest of it?” I half joked. I knew that was all there was. My sixteen year old daughter Cindy could have worn this bikini to the beach and caused a bit of a scandal. It was certainly made for a body built for speed.

I definitely didn’t feel I could pull it off, but my husband reminded me that I had agreed to follow his instructions, and he wanted me to wear the bikini. He also wanted me to flit around, giggle and bring him and Mike beers while they talked.

“Oh yes,” I giggled like a bimbo-barbie sarcastically. He smacked me on the bottom and told me that he wanted me to act just like that. The audacity of it! I couldn’t fit my pubes completely into the thong, even though I did my best to tuck them in and shave them back. I was red-faced as I stepped out on the pool.

Marcie’s sons may not have thought twice about their own mother, but their eyes followed me everywhere I walked. I felt like life support for two big floaty balloon tits and two big buttocks. I wanted to at least jump into the water where I could hide my lower half. Steve wasn’t having it.

“Bring some Miller Lite and put a six pack on Ice, Dear,” he instructed me. I smiled at him flatly. I’d let him have his fun. It felt kind of good to be his trophy wife that he wanted to show off.

Yet, at the same time I couldn’t help but feel like a “second place trophy” compared to how natural and breezily Marcie sauntered around the pool like she owned it. She reminded me of a stripper stepping up on to the stage to perform her show. She had all this confidence, and she had to know that all eyes were on her body hanging out of the bikini that she wore.

It didn’t seem to bother her. I wanted her confidence and swagger. She looked at me as if she was better than me, and I wanted her to see me as an equal.

We didn’t have sex that afternoon. I gave Mike head and Marcie gave my husband a hand job in the house before she left. It was a little disappointing but we couldn’t just leave our kids with theirs and abandon them for a few hours. We said our goodbyes and they went home, but Marcie let me keep the bikini.

I TRIED to give it back.

“Oh no, it’s way too nice, I want you to keep wearing it!” Steve implied that I’d be wearing the bikini well after swimming was over. I smiled and agreed. This was our ‘game’ or whatever it was now. He was the boss, and he had given me an implicit instruction. He had done it right in front of my kids as he often did. He did it discreetly so they didn’t think he was being mean or strict. However, it was obvious that I didn’t have a choice in the matter.

I felt silly but I spent that Sunday afternoon around the house in the bikini. I cleaned up, bent over and showed my butt to my husband, teased him and smiled, and prepared dinner.

I tried to avoid Cindy’s ire as I performed jumping jacks and various exercises after dinner in the living room while my husband pretended not to watch. He was turned on, but he made it look like he was engrossed in the television. We’d managed to get away with it mostly because the kids were focused on their cell phones, computers, tablets and petty squabbles but the bikini was definitely a bit over the top.

I felt deeply humiliated but also extremely excited. The outfit was so skimpy and terrible and I couldn’t control the fact that my pussy was working overtime getting juicy. That evening when we were in bed my husband’s instructions were to ball up my bikini and push it into my mouth. The entire thing could fit inside my mouth (I was getting better at that).

He let me hold my phone, and I was supposed to “slow run” out to the yard. Spit the bikini out on the ground, pick it up with my tongue (without the use of my hands) and then jog back. I couldn’t run, I had to sort of slow-run shaking my tits and ass. It was not that out of the ordinary but it was the first time I had to hold my sweaty, pussy-flavored bikini bottoms in my mouth as I made my way to the backyard.

There was always a chance some old man might be futzing around in the backyard at night, but I was fairly certain I could get out there and do it. I dutifully filmed spitting the bikini bottoms out and then got down on my hands and knees in the grass and sucked them back up into my mouth. I blew a kiss to my husband if he was watching on the phone. It was nice that he kept my honest by making me bring the camera.

I hustled back in the house and completed the dare. “Easy peasy!” I breezed upstairs and got ready to fuck my husband’s brains out.

“Too easy!” he teased.

“You are the one who gave me the instructions. What else do you have for me then?” I was eager to prove myself and feeling pretty confident that I could complete another dare without waking anyone or getting in trouble. They were fun and terrifying at the same time, but they were more fun than they were scary, and I enjoyed our night time dares a lot.

“Here is your dildo,” Steve held up my favorite pink dildo. I thanked him and got a little giddy. “You will fuck yourself with it and slow-walk downstairs while pulling and pinching your nipples. You will go outside and stand in the middle of the drive-way and perform 10 jumping jacks. You can only remove your hands from your nipples or the dildo to raise your hands above your head.”

“How can I hold both nipples and a dildo, Steve?” I squawked. He had never made me masturbate with the dildo out in the open. He usually just made me finger myself.

“You are right, phone in your mouth,” he slipped my phone in my mouth. “This hand fucking the dildo in and out at a steady pace, and this finger can slip up your butthole.”

“Whaff?” I pleaded.

“Don’t drop that camera or I expect you to put the dildo in your mouth, and insert the camera into your pussy.”

“Arff, you sure, Steef?” I tried to get his pity and give him puppy dog eyes. He told me that I was adorable and smacked me on the bottom and sent me on my way. I had performed some pretty crazy dares, and other than walking while fucking myself with the dildo, this wasn’t all that different. I might have been aghast at having to keep my finger in my ass in the first few weeks but after Mike and Marcie, I had become an ass slut, and I could handle the finger all the way up my ass.

I walked extra slow. I was supposed to ‘slow walk’ in an exaggerated way anyway, but I have to admit that I was taking my time so that I could enjoy some time masturbating. I didn’t want to get myself to orgasm but having access to my dildo was such a rare treat that I thought I was being a clever minx taking extra time.

The walk downstairs was slow and careful so that I didn’t fall. I fucked the dildo in and out of my pussy and wriggled my finger in my butt. Spit dribbled down my phone. It was good that it was waterproof because I had been spitting on it every night. I hadn’t dropped it yet, but it was always clear that I was supposed to put it in my pussy if I did.

I took it nice and easy and crept outside. I was careful not to accidentally lock myself out. I could imagine the fun that Steve would have if I was trapped outside of the house naked as he teased me. I took my position in the center of my driveway and began to do slow jumping jacks for the amusement of my husband.

I had pushed the dildo far enough deep inside me that I could push my legs apart and then use one hand to guide it back up inside when it slipped out as I jumped. I was quite certain that if a stranger could see me from his house, he would think I had completely lost my marbles.

Here was this random blonde woman stark naked doing slow jumping jacks, bouncing up and down with her phone in her mouth. The fear that a car would suddenly decide to make it’s way down our street or some neighbor might pop out to take their trash to the curb was real and it added to the tension. I felt it night after night but I managed to dodge another bullet – no one caught me!

I was quite pleased with myself. The naughty chores at night were fun and relatively harmless. I was not trying to flash the whole neighborhood. I hoped that if someone DID spot me they would see the sport in it and have a good sense of humor about it. It was all together better that I didn’t get caught at all.

I stuck one finger all the way up my ass, and then used my other hand to pump my dildo and occasionally played with my tits.

Once again, I was patting congratulating myself. The adrenaline rush from doing the dare was a huge endorphin high but the dopamine from pleasing my husband and actually finishing his challenges left me feeling really happy with myself.

I felt like a master cat burglar who had just pulled off another heist. My plan was to slow walk back upstairs and fuck myself with the dildo until I was right on the edge of orgasm and then fuck my husband right in half when I jumped him in bed.

It was a good night!

I still had to manage the creaky door, and up the stairs in the dark, but I was well practiced at stealthy night missions like this now and I felt like I was on auto-pilot. That’s why when I saw my son standing in the shadows it shocked me so hard

The late night quietness was like a fog around me. I reacted in a whispered panic as if I had seen a ghost. I kept telling myself Teddy couldn’t really be downstairs. He was just an image that I had imagined! However, there he was standing there looking up at me. He seemed apologetic for startling me.

I didn’t know what to say. What could I say? I was clutching my phone in my mouth. Even worse, I was thrusting a dildo into my pussy, and I had been walking in this exaggerated manner. I could hardly play this off as a normal visit to the kitchen for a snack or a glass of water.

I removed the phone from my mouth and let the dildo in my pussy sag. I clenched it with my pussy lips so that it didn’t hit the floor. “Your father told me to do this,” was the first thing that came to my mind. I knew I shouldn’t throw my husband under the bus. I had chosen to walk outside naked, but I was startled and blurted out the first excuse my brain could find.

“Do you like doing what he tells you?” Teddy asked.

“Uh, yes,” I responded. That was the truth. I did, although I was regretting it all and ready to quit my nocturnal dares. I just wanted to hide my head in the sand at the moment. However, I stood there like an idiot staring back with my mouth half open in shock.

“I saw you earlier when you went outside. What did you spit on the ground?” Teddy asked. “Then I overheard you tell dad that it was too easy and ask for something harder.”

Oh god, what did he know?

“That was my bikini. It’s kind of a complicated story,” I couldn’t come up with a plausible excuse for my behavior. I was mortified and ashamed of myself.

“Every night, Dad makes you go outside and run around naked, or do a silly dance. I’ve been trying to figure out if you were doing it for fun or because he is being mean to you.”

“Oh no, he’s not being mean. I like it. I told you that, Teddy,” I assured him.

“Do you like putting your finger in your butt?” he asked. He wasn’t grilling me. Teddy seemed concerned and confused as he tried to make sense of the games.

I was blushing so hard, and what made things worse was that my dildo was turning me on despite my peril. I couldn’t stop my nipples from hardening and my pussy from getting wet involuntarily.

“Sometimes. I am sure you like touching yourself in places too,” I tried to minimize it.

“Do you like to stick your finger in your butt, or do you like to do it because dad tells you to do it?” Teddy asked. It seemed like an innocent question given the circumstances but how could I answer that?

“Teddy, we should talk about this with your father in the morning. I am sure this very confusing, and you deserve answers, but I don’t know what to tell you.”

Teddy seemed frustrated by my unwillingness to satisfy his curiosity. He had apparently been watching me for many nights and had some theories. I assumed he thought I was being blackmailed or was on drugs. I really didn’t know, and I didn’t want to talk to him about them.

I didn’t have to tell Steve when I got back to the room. He had watched it all on the phone. “Julie, it’s not the end of the world. You are probably going to walk in on him honking his hog sometime in his bedroom. It’s totally normal. We’ll have a talk in the morning and settle it.”

“What are we supposed to tell him? And what if he tells the others?”

“I am pretty sure he probably already has. I would if I were in his shoes and trying to make sense of it. He’s been watching for several nights. Look, it’s not that big of a deal,” my husband tried to be a calming voice of reason, but I was a ball of nervous energy and uncertainty.

I was still horny despite the confrontation and that was what made me question my own judgment. I snuggled into my huband’s arms. He made it clear that the problem was ours and they were OUR kids. “This is not your cross to bear alone. They will either think WE are disgusting pigs or they will accept that we are adults with needs and lives and desires and he saw something we didn’t think he should see.”

That remark made me feel a lot better. I liked the fact that I wasn’t going to bear this alone either. Steve told me that I did have to do the majority of the talking to the kids. They needed to hear it all from me if they were going to believe it.

“Are you still going to follow my instructions?” He asked me after my pulse stopped racing and I calmed down.

“I do not see how we can keep doing this now that Teddy knows,” I said.

“That isn’t an answer. We really need to work on how directly you answer questions,” my hubby booped my nose playfully. “Teddy knew for days, possibly weeks and the world didn’t end. It hasn’t ended tonight. Has it?”

“No, but it is probably selfish of us to...” I started to explain that we should go back to ‘normal’ for their sake.

“You told me you were tired of the boring Julie that you are. I am tired of the boring Steve that I was. We’ve lived and loved more in the last three weeks than we have in our entire marriage. Tell me if this is what you want to do? Do you want to pretend to be the old, boring Julie to present some image to Teddy that you think he’d prefer?”

I didn’t want that, obviously.

“He already knows you have a wild side. There is no rewind button and erase the tape in his memory bank. You can’t just go back to normal like nothing ever happened. We have to go forward. I am going to ask you again. Do you trust me enough to obey my instructions?”

My answer was yes, and we talked all night about ‘what ifs’ and scenarios until we were both certain we’d be exhausted before work in the morning. However, I awoke energized and renewed with a vigor that was probably the adrenaline from my second wind kicking in.

When I came to the kitchen table, I saw the kids gathered around the table grinning and chuckling. They weren’t staring at their phones like normal and I knew instantly that Teddy had told them what he had seen.

“I suppose you all know about your mother’s little nighttime chores?” Steve asked bluntly. He didn’t want to beat around the bush.

“Oh yeah, we know,” Daniel took a bite of his cereal. “We’ve known for a while. We don’t know why, but we definitely know.”

That was what I had been afraid of. My husband and I had made a deal. If the kids didn’t want to know anything about it we’d tell them that we’d take steps to be more discreet and leave it at that.

“Do you want to know why?” Steve asked his son.

“I mean, obviously, Mom is a freak or something,” Cindy chimed in.

“You aren’t far off the mark,” Steve told her with a grin. He had told me they would probably have impossibly incorrect theories anyway and the truth was probably going to be a lot easier to explain.

“That’s your cue, Julie. They need to hear this from you,” Steve told me. We’d talked about it and despite my shyness and reluctance, I had agreed it would probably be best if I was the one to do most of the talking with Steve to back me up.

I pulled the belt of my robe tightly around me. It was a nervous habit. “Your father and I discussed it, and we think you three are both mature enough to understand and deserve an explanation. However, we both have to start work soon, and we can have this conversation another time if you are uncomfortable,” I offered.

“Oh no, let me make some popcorn,” Daniel joked, that whatever I had to say was probably going to be amusing.

“It is kind of a funny story, but I will make it simple,” I began just as my husband, and I had discussed.

Chapter 4

I explained to my kids how the pandemic had made me a little stir crazy and that I had grown bored of the day-in-day-out drudgery of being me. I was leading an incredibly dull and predictable life.

“Oh great, Mom’s mid-life crises,” Cindy quipped. Steve told her to can it and just listen. He told me to skip to the deal and get to the point.

“Okay, your father likes to give me instructions. You obviously know what kind from last night,” I admitted nervously. This was really hard to say out loud.Steve wanted me to be more explicit, but I was too embarrassed to say more than that, and I knew the kids knew exactly what I was talking about with the naked dares.

“Oh yeah, and dry humping yourself at your computer or wearing that bikini around here,” Cindy added. She must have noticed me playing my secret games over the past few weeks. I thought I had been really clever and stealthy but I clearly hadn’t. Steve brow-beat her into silence again.

“Yeah, that’s fair. You are right. I did naughty things that are usually supposed to be done in private. Your father likes telling me what to do and giving me, instructions and I like following them. Okay? It’s as simple as that. We love each other and have a committed relationship. It was wrong of us to sneak around where you might discover, and so in order to keep you from being uncomfortable, we’ll confine our activities to the bedroom or when you are not home.”

“We are NEVER not home. It’s the fucking pandemic,” Daniel sighed angrily in frustration. He was a social kid and he was missing out on all kinds of high school activities this year. It wasn’t fair, and I got that. We’d only made it worse by adding this complication and I apologized.

“Look, I don’t care if you do it around here. We all already know about it. I think we were just worried Dad was hypnotizing you or something,” Daniel joked.

“Yeah, It’s kind of funny!” Cindy laughed.

I looked at Teddy, and he seemed amused, but he was shy around his brother and sister.

“I appreciate that, but your father and I discussed it and we overstepped,” I said.

“So, that means no more late night orgies with the Flinn’s?” Cindy mused.

“Oh, baby!! Hit me one more time,” Daniel pounded the table a few times and spoke in a high pitched imitation of a girl begging for rough sex.

I blushed and looked at Steve. We hadn’t discussed not seeing Mike and Marcie. In fact, we HAD discussed seeing other couples as well and broadening ourselves. I knew he didn’t want that relationship to end and frankly, neither did I.

“We’re probably going to continue to see them,” my husband admitted. “We can try to make arrangements to sleep over at their house some nights.”

“It’s cool, Dad. You guys really don’t have to stop,” Daniel spoke for the other three. It was a nice gesture on their part, and I appreciated the fact that they seemed so accommodating and understanding.

Steve jokingly told them he’d consider it, but it was obvious we were done with our dares. I have to admit that I was disappointed by that, but it had been impractical given that we shared the house with our kids and lived in such close quarters.

“Mom, do you actually like doing what dad tells you to do?” Teddy spoke up. He seemed skeptical that anyone would enjoying doing what they were told. Teddy is a helper and he likes to do what I tell him. I assumed he’d be the one in the family that would understand me best.

“Yes, I do,” I replied directly to my son. It was a simple question and the answer I gave was truthful. Steve wanted me to be direct this morning and not try to beat around the bush like I normally did.

“Even when he tells you to take off all of your clothes and go into the back yard?” Teddy asked. My son is fourteen and he isn’t totally naïve. However, I think he just needed to hear me say it to get his head wrapped around it.

I grinned and admitted that I did. There was no point in denying it. It wasn’t like I could say that I was forced into it.

“Then why can’t you keep doing it?” Teddy asked as if that should be obvious. I had been caught red-handed. As far as I was concerned – there were going to be no more games or dares.

“I might when you aren’t home, but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Teddy,” I admitted sheepishly. I would have to give some thought to it. I really didn’t want to quit- but I didn’t want to involve my kids any more than I already had.

“Trust me, when we tell you that he’s been fascinated!” Cindy laughed with amusement.

“Yeah, it’s all he has talked about for a week,” Daniel admitted. Teddy blushed.

“Well, I don’t want to make either of you uncomfortable either,” I offered a wintry smile. I felt a little sympathetic embarrassment for Teddy. I didn’t want his brother and sister to gang up on him and tease him.

“It’s not like we don’t know and haven’t seen you. Hell, I followed you all the way down to the stop sign with Teddy the other night. You did the chicken dance or something,” Daniel imitated the way I must have been flapping my arms and bending my knees.

I blushed and looked at my slippers – the very suggestion they were making was absurdly outrageous and strangely provocative.

“I don’t see any reason then to live a farce, if you already know,” Steve decided. I thought he was joking when he formally told me to drop my robe.

Steve and all of my family stared at me expectantly. I stood frozen and mortified.

“Are you sure?” I asked. It was my defense mechanism kicking in – I always feel compelled to ask a second time even though I knew exactly what Steve wanted me to do.

“They’ve already seen you naked. Take off the robe, Julie. I am not asking you,” Steve said sternly.

I reluctantly untied my robe and let it fall to the side. I had nothing on underneath. We’d slept naked together. My big tits were exposed. I took it all the way off and put it to the side on the back of a chair. “Slippers too,” Steve insisted that I take those off.

Steve looked up as if checking for meteors falling from the sky and pointed out the world did not end. “A naked woman in the house. Okay, is everyone comfortable?”

Daniel and Cindy chuckled their answers sarcastically, but Teddy seemed to look at me as if I were a super star celebrity. He seemed impressed with me. I smiled at him.

“If I tell your mom to wear panties only and go get the mail or do jumping jacks it’s because she likes being told what to do. Don’t you, Julie?”

“I do,” I admitted nervously. It was a humiliating confession, but strangely a weight was lifted off of my shoulders – the secret was out. It was so surreal standing in the bright light of my kitchen in the morning in he nude while everyone else was dressed in sweats and jammies.

“Bend over and grab your ankles,” Steve seemed determined to test my willingness to obey his orders. I did as instructed and grabbed my ankles. At least my big butt wasn’t facing the kitchen table. I was dripping wet though and I knew that despite it all – I was extremely turned on by what was happening (even if I didn’t fully understand why).

He placed his coffee cup on my back and used my back as a stand to hold it. “Now, can you handle that? or are you going to say that I am anti-women’s lib or something?” Steve asked Cindy.

“Hey, if mom is cuckoo enough for cocoa pops to do what you tell her, my only question is, can we boss her around?” Cindy was clearly joking. My asshole puckered at the very suggestion. I already cooked, cleaned and did most of the housework. What could they possibly “boss” me around to do other than sexual stuff? Surely, she didn’t want that!

“I don’t think so,” Steve smacked my butt playfully and told me that I could now stand as he took his coffee cup away after proving his point. I was glad my husband hadn’t furthered my humiliation by making me step and fetch for my daughter. She’d probably be a merciless task master.

“Okay, any other questions? I’ve got a meeting at 9am and I am running behind,” Steve asked if things were settled. I was shocked that they were settled just like that.

“Yes,” Teddy raised his hand to ask a question politely. Steve called on him like a teacher would in a class with a bemused expression on his face. “What’s up, Teddy?”

“This is a question for mom,” Teddy asked. “Last night I asked you if you liked putting your finger in your butt or if you liked doing what dad told you.”

I blushed, Daniel and Cindy cracked up, and Steve seemed ready to shut down the line of questioning.

“I was trying to understand if you like doing things because you are told, or because you want to do them anyway,” Teddy clarified his question. “Did you like bending over and having a cup of warm coffee on your back, or did you like being told to do it?”

“This is a deeper conversation than we probably have time for,” Steve began to defend me and defer the question.

I held up my hand and reminded my husband that he wanted me to be honest with my son. “When you asked me that question last night, I was to put on the spot to answer. Since our secret is out,” I extended my arms in front of me “then you can ask anything you like, and I’ll do my best to answer. I think it is a bit of both. I liked being told what to do, and I guess a part of me liked feeling useful or amusing or something as a table, I guess.”

I really hadn’t processed what I got out of the power exchange with my husband. I just knew that I had been incredibly turned on and a part of me really liked giving pleasure more than I liked receiving it – even if I was desperate to be touched and play with myself. I felt my answer was as honest as possible and Teddy deserved to be taken seriously if he really wanted to know what I got out of it.

“So, you liked being told to bend over and grab your ankles?” Teddy tried to make sense of my response.

“Yes, I guess so,” I smiled at him. There was no point in hiding that fact from them now.

“Yet, you would only like it if Dad told you to grab your ankles but not if Cindy told you?” Teddy asked.

I really hadn’t thought about it. I told him that I wouldn’t.

“It sounds more like YOU want to tell Mom to grab her ankles, Scro!” Daniel teased his little brother and tickled his ribs. My husband and I had to get ready for work. That ended the conversation.

“Can I get dressed?” I whispered to my husband through clenched teeth.

“Do you have any Zoom meetings?” he asked.

“No,” I admitted, but even If I did have some scheduled, I wasn’t going to be on camera with my tits exposed. I had agreed to the deal to do what my husband told me. That was simply a line I wouldn’t cross- at least, I was fairly certain that he wouldn’t push it and make me.

“If you need to get on camera, you can come and ask me for a shirt. Otherwise, I want you to stay naked this afternoon.”

“All day?”

“Yes,” Steve said definitively.

I sat with my bare pussy dripping in my office chair and participated on zooms. I could hardly think about work though. I kept wanting to tweak my nipples or finger myself. At first, I wasn’t aware that I was doing it and it was just out of nervousness. My husband reached over and slapped my hands away and told me to stop.

I blushed. The kids were home, but they were off in their rooms or in the common areas doing virtual school. We were all home “together” but the conversation at breakfast was the longest talk we’d had as an entire family in a long time. “Are we really going to continue things? Or are you just trying to see how long it will be before they tell us to stop?”

“A little bit of both. If they have a problem with it we’ll address it. For now, you’ll keep doing what I told you. You want to, don’t you?”

“You know I do, Steve. I just feel this is wrong. What would people think?”

“What would Marcie think? She’d probably think you are a straight up baller. Her sons didn’t blink an eye when she put on that skimpy bikini around them. You think she’d have the courage to walk around naked in front of her sons?”

I liked the fact that my husband thought I was more courageous than Marcie. At the same time, I wouldn’t underestimate what my slutty friend was capable of doing after the last few times we had them over.

“Am I going to have to be naked when they come over?” I asked. I was suddenly a little nervous.

“Probably,” Steve acted as if he had this all worked out in his head even though the rules he was probably flying by the seat of his pants. “I like you in clothes sometimes too, fishnets, lingerie.”

“What about though if it’s her sons?” I asked nervously. Then I added “or what if Daniel or Cindy want to bring over someone?”

It wasn’t likely that Teddy would have friends over.

“It’s a pandemic, and they haven’t had friends over in a long time. We’ll cross that bridge, but we talked about this. You trust me, right?”

“Yes,” I admitted with a smile. “It’s just that the kids are teasing me and Cindy would have me wait on her hand and foot!” I admitted with a look of chagrin.

“So what if she did? You already do almost everything for the girl besides wipe her butt and do her homework,” he joked. He let the matter drop.

At lunch, things were awkward. I remained standing and served up some soup and grilled cheese. “Can I put on an apron?” I asked politely. My husband was more than happy to allow me to wear one. My ass still hung out of the back.

The kids surprisingly took my behavior in stride and with good humor as if it were a joke. I wasn’t sure if we’d continue but at lunch, my husband expected me to remain naked. “May I sit down?”

“You’ll get the chair slimy with your snail trails,” Cindy goofed on me. She had noticed how glazed my pussy looked because I was wet. I do not think the others looked that closely and my husband was used to how wet I am.

“Be nice,” Steve chastised my daughter for teasing me. He looked at me and said “It might be better if you stand, though,” he chuckled. Daniel and Teddy were probably clueless to the reasons but they chuckled as well.

I stood at the counter and ate while the rest of the family sat at the table and ate the lunch I prepared. It was a little humiliating to not be included. I was just happy they seemed to be talking instead of simply sharing a table and staring at their phones.

“So, what else can you make Mom do?” Daniel continued the conversation. I was mortified that I was being discussed like I wasn’t even in the room.

“What do you mean?” Steve replied.

“You always give mom weird exercises or dances to do,” Daniel observed. I blushed. I really thought those dances were in private (Except for the times I got caught).

“Yeah, will you tell her to stick her finger up her butt?” Teddy added.It was a bold question and everyone else looked at him like that was obviously crossing a line of decency. Teddy didn’t see it that way though. He explained that I had done it last night.

“I probably won’t have your mom do that during the day around the house, but how about a little dance,” Steve offered. He turned to me and told the Alexa to play “The Chicken Dance”. “You can do the chicken dance and eat.”Oh god, how humiliating. Dancing naked? In front of my kids because my husband told me to do it?

The Chicken Dance is a dance that is usually performed at weddings. I’ve seen the DJ put on a chicken mask and dance with the bride in front of everybody. It’s funny, and the chorus goes “It’s a little bit of this, it’s a little bit of that, now flap your arms, now shake your butt”.

Obviously, you are supposed to tuck your arms under your armpits like wings and flap, while shaking your butt. My naked dance really cracked my family up. I have to admit watching someone trying to eat soup while dancing is probably funny. I spilled it all over my chin and probably looked at a little pathetic.

I was blushing from ear to ear by the time it was all over. I have to admit that I was smiling, but mostly out of nervous embarrassment. There was nothing sexy about my tits flopping around from my perspective - but it was deeply humilatia,

The family took turns picking out songs for me to dance to during lunch. It was deeply embarrassing but at the same time at least they were laughing together and talking instead of zoning out in their phones.

“Why do your nipples get so hard like cooked pepperonis when you dance, Mom?” Teddy asked toward the end. I had barely noticed just how tight and perky my nips had become. I was sweating a little and my pussy was dripping too.

I didn’t want to answer. I thought it would be obvious.

“Julie, you will answer any question directly and honestly,” my husband made it clear that was an instruction.

“The adrenaline of moving around gets my blood pumping and it’s sort of an involuntary reaction.”

Teddy seemed mystified by that response.

“Mom’s nips are like your little wiener, Teddy. They pop up anytime she gets excited like little head lights,” Cindy poked her fingers up under her shirt to approximate two tiny erections and the family laughed.

This time Steve didn’t stop the kids from laughing at me. It was increasingly humiliating to have to stand in the kitchen with everyone looking right at my hard nipples. I casually turned around to face the refrigerator.

“Aww, cute! She is hiding! Why so bashful all of a sudden, Lady Godiva?” Cindy teased me again.

After that little encounter, I asked my husband privately why he didn’t stop them from laughing. “Look, there are two choices. I can forbid them to laugh and stifle them anytime they want to giggle and they can either laugh behind your back or think you are in trouble, or they can enjoy a good laugh. You have to admit, the situation is a little funny.”

“Oh yes, hardee har, har. Are you really going to make me stay naked every day?” I placed my hands on my hips. My husband had decided that we were going to continue our games and since it was all out in front of the kids now I assumed he probably would make me walk around bare-ass.

“No,” Steve surprised me when he said that. “I am going to let you decide. You told me you liked doing what I told you to do. If you want to stop then you can go put on your sweat pants and we won’t speak of this again. If you continue though, I expect you to wear what I tell you to wear even if that is nothing at all and you may have to endure some laughs and giggles.”

I thought about protesting his decision and refusing. I really did. I know it may sound unbelievable that I would willingly give up my dignity and ability to choose my own outfits. “Yes, okay. That’s how it will be – if you are sure.”

“Okay? I was expecting something a bit more formal,” Steve mused that my response to his decision was anti-climatic at best. I didn’t understand what he expected to hear. Did he want an oath of obedience? I wasn’t 100% confident that I wanted to continue after I gave you the choice to stop. “Then I want you to go into the kitchen during dinner and tell the kids that You have decided to continue doing as instructed and that ANY questions are fair game and you will answer them all.”

“You’ll come with me?”

“No,” Steve insisted.

When I told the kids that I would continue doing whatever their father told me to do they didn’t seem all that surprised.

It was cathartic for me to have to admit out loud this was what I wanted. I think only Teddy really cared that I said I’d answer all questions. His questions were often innocent but very probing and I felt almost as vulnerable telling him the truth as I did being naked.

As an example, as soon as I said I’d answer all questions. He asked. “Why can’t you sit down during lunch? What is a snail trail?”

I scrunched my nose a little and then looked at my toes. I was crinkling them up nervously. “Ladies get wet when they are excited and when I sit bare-bottom on a seat, I may leave behind a little bit of slime.”

“It’s like girl jizz,” Daniel explained.

I was mortified.

“You just walk around leaking like that all the time?” Teddy asked me.

As I said, the questions were even more humiliating than standing there bearing my naughty bits.

“Only naughty girls are wet ALL the time from their perverted thoughts,” Cindy commented. I left it at that and didn’t refute it.

“It’s also a little drafty, and the experience of being nude around the house gets me excited,” I added.

“So, you DO like being naked? Because sometimes you turn around and move your hands in front of your parts,” Teddy asked.

“Sorry, I get nervous,” I admitted. I removed my hands from my tits. I had been covering my nipples with my hands without thinking about it.

I was fortunate that was all the questions they had for me. After that, the only seat that I took while naked was my office chair.

I did leave behind smudgy-wet spots but it was my seat, so nobody said anything or complained about it. I wasn’t naked all the time. After dinner, my husband had me change into a lingerie set. It was a two piece black lace with fishnets and heels. I felt even dirtier in that then I did completely naked, even though my nipples and pussy slit was covered.

It was strange, but I will say this – it wasn’t boring.

I definitely didn’t feel like “Old Julie” any longer. I had almost grown used to the swinging with another couple and the nightly dares.

Now, I had turned another corner, and nothing would ever be the same again after today.

That night before bed the kids asked my husband what he was going to make me do tonight. “I haven’t thought about it yet,” Steve implied that it was none of their business.

However, he had made it their business by having me parade around all day naked or nearly naked. They were curious what dares he had in mind for me. They weren’t dares anymore though. They were instructions and I knew and accepted that - I liked it. I didn’t want to have a choice because I might have chickened out if I did.

“Can Mom do something now? It’s dark out, and you don’t have to wait for us to go to bed,” Teddy asked his father. He didn’t ask me to do a dare. It was as if my son instinctively knew that it wouldn’t be up to me anyway. Teddy was clearly fascinated and eager, which was a lot better than freaking out about it.

Steve looked at me as if thinking about his son’s suggestion and perhaps to get a sense of my reaction. I stood in the living room impassively waiting for his decision. It was closer to 9 pm. That meant people would be more likely to be outside jogging, taking a late night walk with their dog, or driving home from a restaurant.

“What would you like her to do?” he asked. I was shocked that Steve would offer to let my son decide. I. I tried not to look shocked or dismayed, but I am sure I appeared uncomfortable. Cindy and Daniel hid their grins over my uneasiness.

“Can Mom wear her pretend penis and hold it with one hand, and put her finger in her butt and then walk like she is on a tight rope over lava out to the stop sign and back?

“That’s not a pretend penis. That’s a dildo,” Cindy laughed. She knew exactly what object he was referring to.

“Yeah, and what’s with you and Mom’s butt?” Daniel snorted.

“Mom said she likes being told to stick her finger in her butt, and I’ll even walk with her!” Teddy suggested he’d like to come with me.

I was terrified of this new idea for so many reasons.

“That may be a little much for 9pm, Sport,” Steve said. He scratched his head as he thought about his son’s request. I was afraid that we’d probably gone a bit too far with this game now.

“You could probably put on that bikini you wore on Sunday, and jog behind Teddy while he rides his bike?”

“I think Teddy would prefer that mom jog in FRONT,” Daniel laughed at the mental image of my big ass bopping up and down in front of my son as his eyes bounced in time with my clapping cheeks.

The scenario was so absurd and outrageous, and under normal circumstances I would never have even considered it. The bikini left very little to the imagination, and even in the dark, I was bound to be seen by someone when they got close enough when we were under a street lamp. “It isn’t up to me. It’s up to your father. I said I would do whatever he tells me.”

My face was red as I admitted that to my family. I think Cindy and Daniel believed that if they teased me hard enough I’d freak out and give up, but Teddy genuinely liked the idea. All three of them knew about it now though and so there was no point in chickening out. I couldn’t go back and erase what I’d already told them.

“Would you like that, buddy?” Steve asked Teddy.

“Yeah! How far can we go?”

“How about around the block?” Steve suggested.

“Yay, c’mon mom!”

“Are you sure?” I stopped myself before I finished asking my husband if he was certain this was wise. I went to our room, changed into the bikini and hurried back. My pulse was already racing. I had on my sneakers and this impossibly small two piece bikini that I had worn before.

“You’ll do two laps since you asked if I was sure. You know the rule about that,” Steve decided when I came back.

“There are rules?” Cindy was incredibly observant and picked up on that. It was the first I was hearing there was rule.

Steve patted my bottom and told me to explain the rule.

“If your father tells me to do something, then I should assume he isn’t joking and just do it. I have a tendency to ask if he is sure to stall,” I admitted sheepishly. “I am sorry about that, dear.”

“So your punishment is to spend more time with Teddy?” Cindy joked sarcastically. Teddy took offense to that because he thought she was serious.

Steve thought about it and with a smirk on his face assured his youngest son that was not the punishment. “Take the shoes off, and keep the phone in your mouth. The punishment is your well manicured little tootsies will have to run on the hard pavement.”

“You’ll have to speak for your Mom. If anybody asks, she is just working on her fitness, okay Teddy?” Steve told Teddy. He was more than grateful to be trusted to do the talking. I was mortified.

This was the first time my husband had ever talked about ‘punishing’ me for anything. I didn’t argue though. I certainly didn’t want Teddy to think that spending time with him was a punishment. I doted on my son, but I led a very busy life between work and groceries and dinners, and cleaning the house. I cherished time with him.

At first, it was incredibly humiliating to jog in front of his bike. I was worried what people would think of me because from a distance I might appear stark naked. I could hear my son’s tires squeaking as he wiggled the handle bars to slow himself down behind me.

“Sorry Mom, I didn’t mean to get you punished,” he offered once we were out in the night air and dashing down the street. Teddy was a good boy and he meant well.

“Frankly, I am sorry that I involved you in what your father and I have been doing. I am sorry about that,” is what I tried to say. I fumbled and dropped the phone that I had in my mouth. Technically, it was supposed to go in my pussy when I dropped it. I picked it back up and put it in my mouth.

“Do you know that when you walk all I can see is the line of your butt crack, but even when you wear that bikini if you bend over people can see the pink circle where your poop comes from?”

I shuddered. I knew that my poo-hole was visible when I bent over, but there wasn’t a lot that I could do about that.

“You know it is called a butthole, Teddy,” I blushed as I jogged ahead of him. I hadn’t quite perfected talking with the phone in my mouth. I cheated a little and pulled it out with my hand to speak. I would try to make an effort to at least squat a little lower the next time.

“I don’t want to sound perverted by saying dirty words,” Teddy offered sweetly.

“It’s just my anatomy, everybody has one, and yes I know that sometimes my butthole peeks out. I am sorry about that. You can use those kinds of words about my body if you need to tell me something,” I replied.

My son was silent for a really long time. We passed someone walking her dog. She stared at me like I had lost my mind. At least the weather wasn’t cool. I smiled as if it were perfectly normal to run in a bikini and kept running. I knew her but not by name. What else could I do accept grin and bear the stares of an occasional neighbor?

“Cunt,” he said out loud.

“What?” I was dismayed. Was my son calling me a Cunt?

“I was saying the word that dad calls your vagina,” Teddy admitted defensively. He was just testing it out. I thought it was kind of funny even though it was highly inappropriate.

I didn’t want to confuse him by giving him a list of things he could say and that he couldn’t. I assumed it was common sense, but with Teddy sometimes you have to spell things out. “That one may be a bit vulgar for out here on the street,” I suggested.

“What about pussy?”

“Yes, you could say that”

“You have a pretty pussy,” he replied immediately. He clearly meant it as a compliment but having my son rate the beauty of my vagina sent all sorts of weird signals of wrong to my brain. I knew he meant well.

“Thank you, Teddy,” I was flattered that he said that anyway.

“You have two lips that hang down like a mouth, and it looks like you could flap them and make them talk.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. “I don’t think I can,” I replied.

“Sorry Mom, do my questions make you uncomfortable?”

“Yes,” I admitted playfully “But, your dad told me to answer you honestly. I tend to clam up and be indirect, so if I don’t answer your questions fully, go ahead and ask me again. If we are going to do this now around the house out in the open, I’d rather you be comfortable enough to ask me what’s going on.”

“Oh good! Every time I ask you a question, your shoulders get knotted, you scrunch up your nose, and sometimes girl jizz starts to drip off the little flap above your pussy lips. I was worried I was making you feel weird.”

He couldn’t have made me feel LESS weird. I blushed. I was glad I was running in front of him because I was so red in the face from embarrassment.

I was actually thankful when a man with a dog stopped to wave hello. “Jogging is good for you!” he remarked as I dashed by.

“Thank you, I know,” I said.

“Dad said that I get to talk for us,” Teddy pouted.

I hadn’t even thought about that. I had simply reacted. I apologized.

“I won’t tell Dad; I don’t want him to punish you.”

“He’s probably watching on the phone. That’s why I bring it,” I said. I was taking it out of my mouth to talk briefly and sticking it back in so that I didn’t speak in all mumbles.

“Then you are supposed to shove it in your cunt aren’t you? He always says that every night when he sends you outside.”

I forgot that my son had been eavesdropping on us at night

“You probably shouldn’t listen at our door,” I said. I felt this gnawing fear in the pit of my stomach. Would my husband really ‘punish’ me if I didn’t do that? “He didn’t tell me before I left, so I’ll tell him what I did wrong when I get back.”

There was a long pause.

“Would it be okay if I tell him?” Teddy asked politely. He reasoned that his father had sent him with me to keep an eye on me and that he could be of value.

“Yes,” I agreed. I suppose it didn’t matter.

As we rounded the house, I saw Cindy smiling on the front porch. She NEVER sits outside. She was looking at her phone and drinking a nice tall glass of lemonade. She had a shit-eating grin on her face. She wasn’t really checking her phone. She was outside to watch me.

I know it should have been humiliating to have my daughter snickering at my embarrassment, but on some level I was impressed she thought enough of the scenario to be outside to egg me on as I made another lap. “Go mom, go! Run like you do when you are outside!” Cindy pantomimed a big-tittied bimbo tripping over her own tits and ass as she wiggled and jiggled.

I waved at her and pretended not to hear what she said.

I have big tits, and the bikini offers no support at all. My boobs were already bouncing all over the place and I was spending most of the time trying to push my nipples back under the skimpy bathing suit material.

“Mom, how come you are not running like Cindy told you?”

“I don’t have to do what she tells me, Teddy,” I explained simply.

“Yeah, but you LIKE running that way when dad tells you to do it. So why wouldn’t you like it when someone else tells you?”

“I don’t know,” I intentionally slow-jogged and swayed my hips a little more than I had to in order to run. I felt sexy despite the humiliation of being out in public like this.

“I think you like doing things for other people. That’s why you clean up, and take care of everyone,” Teddy offered a theory. I told him that was nice of him to say, and I appreciated it. “You know why I think you don’t want to slow jog?”

“Why?”

“Cindy is laughing at you, and you don’t want to make her happy,” Teddy said.

I thought about that for a while. He hadn’t asked me a question. He wasn’t far from the truth, but I was too uncomfortable to address my obvious apprehension about doing what my daughter told me to do. “Only your dad can tell me what to do,” I said.

“Yeah, but if you like to be told what to do, and she is telling you to do something you would like to do, why not?” he asked.

“Would it make you happy if I slow jog?” I sighed.

“Yeah!”

Despite the cost to my dignity, I swayed my hips, shook my tits, and bounced my ass. It took much longer to slow jog my way around the block. Women who noticed me reacted with derision. They looked down their nose at me or they acted like I was crazy. Men generally had two reactions.

The ones who were alone stared at me the entire time. The ones who were with their wives pretended to be disgusted and were discreet about watching me.

I wondered what Marcie might do in this situation. Even she probably wasn’t this bold. I wondered if she’d be proud of me or think I was a lunatic. I smiled and waved like an idiotic bimbo. Teddy had been so sweet that I didn’t see any harm in indulging him.

When we got home, adrenaline was coursing through my body, and my pussy was soaked. My thighs were coated with my sticky pussy juice. I had a wild look in my eyes. This was far different than any ‘dare’ I had ever done.

All my late night dares had been done with the intention of NOT being discovered. My kids obviously found out and watched but as far as I knew no one else had been the wiser. Tonight, I had been seen by almost a dozen neighbors or people in cars.

Steve had a term for it. When a fisherman casts a line he “trolls” for fish by letting the bait slowly drift along.

“Mom didn’t let me talk for us, and she dropped the phone and picked it up with her fingers, she didn’t put it in her pussy. She also kept taking it out to talk; those are the only things I noticed that she did to deserve a punishment,” my caring son dutifully reported on my misbehavior.

“Tattle tail,” Cindy seethed. She hated it when they told on each other even though she thought nothing of telling on her brothers if it suited her.

“Dad probably saw anyway because he had the phone, and it was my job to watch mom!”

“Actually, your sister had the phone,” Steve pointed out that he had let my daughter watch the video. Everything I told my son she probably heard. I don’t know why that embarrassed me, but it did. I cringed a little nervously. “Good job keeping an eye on her, Teddy. I didn’t explicitly tell her she had to put the phone in her pussy, but talking with her mouth full? When I said you’d do the talking? What do you think your mother’s punishment ought to be?”

Steve was half-joking and had a mirthful expression on his face as he asked the question. I knew he was having a little fun with my reaction.

“Stand in the corner?” Teddy took the question very seriously. I had never needed to use corporal punishment on my kids once they became teenagers. Teddy had been very easy to raise, and the only punishment he had ever known was a short time out by standing in the corner.

I was incensed. Was I really to be punished?

“Hmm, do you really think she’d learn her lesson and let you talk tomorrow when you take her out for a run?”

My eyes nearly exploded out of my head.

“I can take mom out tomorrow?” Teddy was thrilled.

“Unless your brother or sister want to have a turn, I don’t see why not,” Steve grinned at me. “How long do you think your mom should spend in the corner to demonstrate she sincerely regrets her actions and will think twice before she disobeys me again?”

Steve didn’t sound angry. There was a lightness to his tone, but he clearly wasn’t joking.

Teddy took his father’s tone quite seriously. “Until bedtime?”

“That seems fair,” Steve nodded his approval. Teddy ate it up. He looked me up and down and told me to remove my bikini and wad it up and hold it in my mouth. “Touch it, take it out, spit it out, and you can stuff that in your pussy. You can talk ONLY if spoken to,” he decided.

I was already stripping out of the sweaty bikini. I was so ashamed. It felt like a real punishment to me even though Steve was humoring our son. I went to the nearest corner and pressed my nose, knees, and nipples into the corner.

“Finger in the butt!” Steve announced.

Cindy applauded and Daniel hooted. I couldn’t see their reactions, but I assumed that they were amused. Teddy was quiet. I reached behind myself and slipped my finger into my ass. Even though my son had seen me that way the night before, that was with the lights off in the house. All the lights were on in the living room.

I can’t describe to you how deeply embarrassed I was. I know there are different levels and sometimes when people are laughing at me, I am laughing with them. This was not one of those occasions. I stifled a tear and endured faced the wall.

My family carried on and talked in the living room. They laughed and joked and ordinarily, I preferred that as opposed to everyone being locked into their cell phones. This time though they talked about my body and goofed on me.

“Are you sure her finger is even all the way in her butt? With two huge butt cheeks like that how can you be sure?” Cindy was the crassest.

“You should probably run with mom tomorrow, Cindy! You could stand to lose a little of this baby fat,” Daniel patted his sister’s tummy playfully. I stifled a smirk. I had my bikini stuffed in my mouth, and I could taste myself.

Eventually, the conversation turned towards other things, local high school sports, television shows, politics, but they were talking. One by one, the kids all retired to their rooms, and then eventually, my husband yawned. He snuck behind me and blew on my neck and kissed my ears as he slid up behind my naked ass and wrapped his arms around my boobs.

“Did you learn your lesson, sweat heart?”

“Mmrrmmmm,” I mumbled nonsense.

“You can take that out,” he assured me seductively. He told me that he had another use for my mouth – one that I was well suited for. He led me upstairs, and after I sucked his cock he fucked my brains out.

It was the first night since my husband I had begun our game that I didn’t streak outside after midnight. I wouldn’t miss the sound of crickets chirping and frogs croaking as I stepped on wet grass and snuck around tonight. My husband pumped me so full of cum.

“Fuck me hard, Steve! God!” I croaked as I rode his dick until he shot his load inside of me.

I peeled off of my husband and laid my head across his hairy chest.

“How did today feel?” he asked.

I really didn’t know. It was too soon to process all of the feelings that I had. Instead of over-analyzing the question and second guessing I just rolled with it. “It was great,” I assured him.

“Good, you did really well!”

I appreciated my husband’s praise. It made me feel really good – it was almost like a drug that could be intoxicating. Steve didn’t give real praise lightly. He could be critical of little details and right now things felt right.

Yet, I had my niggling doubts. “I am worried though, Steve. Will the kids respect me?”

“Absolutely,” Steve assured me without a doubt. I wished that I had his optimism but I wasn’t sure he saw what I meant.

“They picked out a punishment for me tonight!”

“Yes, but you earned that punishment. Don’t disobey the rules if you don’t want the consequences,” he booped my nose. We hadn’t done any sort of punishments before and that wasn’t how any of this worked before tonight. Steve understood what I was getting at though. “Look, you aren’t going to be seen as the ogre who keeps order. You were never that around here anyway. You are the one everyone comes to when they have a problem to fix, and that isn’t going to change. Here is the best case scenario and the worst case scenario.”

I looked at Steve and kissed him before he could lay the worst and best case out to me. I liked that he had thought about it enough to already have a ready response to my concern.

“The best case scenario is that the kids see that we love each other and give each other what we need. You like being told what to do. I can see it in your eyes that you are thrilled, and I really wish I had known that sooner because I love telling you what to do. They will see that like a Yin and a Yang. There is give and take in any relationship. I do not boss you around out of cruelty. I do it out of love, and we give each other what we need and support each other. They know there are gay parents, step-parents that share custody, and all sorts of ways people build relationships, and ours may be a little different but it works. They will see that somebody can give of themselves without wanting anything in return and respect you for doing what you wanted to do even if other people might turn their nose up at it.”

That was well said, but I thought that it was mostly flattery and flowery talk. I felt perverted and naughty, and those kinds of feelings led to feelings of guilt that were probably ingrained in me growing up in a traditional household.

“The worst case scenario, they will have a laugh, joke around, and respect you as a good sport for putting up with it. They are obviously not going to freak out, or they would have already. I am not going to allow Cindy to be super mean to you, either.”

What did he mean by ‘super mean’ as opposed to regular ‘mean’? I was overthinking.

My husband began to drift to sleep. He had earned it. The sex was really good tonight. As usual, my mind would not simply turn off, and I began to think. I tapped his chest and woke him before he drifted into a deep sleep.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

My husband looked up at me and smiled. He puckered his lips, and I leaned in close and French kissed him passionately. We seldom kissed like that even when we were dating. It was a perfect moment.

“Turn your brain off, Julie. We are doing the right thing, and obviously, we’ll have to make some adjustments and course corrections as we go. We can always talk about anything that bothers you.”

I had lots of little concerns and things that worried me, but I smiled at my husband. I think he knew that and added for my benefit “We’ve always known that Cindy speaks her mind and isn’t afraid to talk back. She is sassy like you were when I first met you,” he added.

I wasn’t NEARLY as sassy as my daughter. My father would have never permitted me to talk like her or even slouch at the dinner table. I didn’t argue with my husband though. He was right that I used to be a lot different when I was younger. I spoke more than I listened. I was quick to anger, and those are qualities Cindy probably DID inherit from me.

“You have to expect a little spit and vinegar from our daughter. She’s confused by all of this. They all are, and I don’t blame them. She’s going to press your buttons to see which ones get a certain reaction because you aren’t acting like boring old Julie. If she goes too far, I’ll rein her in. Let me be the bad guy, okay?”

“Thank you,” I kissed my husband’s lips again.

“In the morning, I want you to wake me by sucking my cock until I wake up. You can wear your apron downstairs to cook but it’s naked all day unless I tell you or you have an important zoom meeting, and you have to be on camera. You’ll still be naked from the waist down.”

My husband was so decisive. I was quite the opposite and perhaps that was why things were working out. My husband frequently tried to make me happy by guessing what I liked. As an example, I don’t usually care where we go out to eat. My husband would exhaust himself trying to think of a place for us to eat, and I would usually say “I do not care, anywhere is fine”

He would assume this is code or that I was testing him. His desire to please me by trying to guess what I wanted would lead to him being indecisive and wishy-washy. I assumed that was just how he was as well because I really wanted HIM to be happy and to eat where HE wanted. I was seeing a different side of my husband now and I didn’t think he was being selfish to decide what I could or couldn’t wear.

Obviously, though, I am a woman, and I couldn’t just be content knowing that I would wake up tomorrow knowing exactly what I had to do. I had to worry about SOMETHING.

I wondered if I’d have to be naked EVERY day from now on or if there would be breaks. I imagined getting a visit from my parents and having to explain myself. They hadn’t visited in a long time and they had no plans to come stay with us. I think I like to worry at times because when my mind is entirely idle I don’t know what to do with myself. I know that probably sounds crazy but I started to wish there were a set of rules.

If I had established rules that I HAD to be naked, then I’d know what I’d have to do in these imaginary scenarios turning around in my head about delivery men who had to come inside our house for some reason, or visits from my kid’s teachers.

I am a rule follower, and having things written down would also make them seem more legitimate and less made up on the fly. Where I work, we document all our workflows and processes, and I excel at that sort of thinking. I knew I was just over-analyzing things.

It took me a little while to fall asleep. I was tempted to start masturbating. That would help me stop second guessing. I remembered that Steve’s rule was that I wasn’t allowed to masturbate and I got frustrated. He had no rule about dreaming about it and so that is what I did until I finally found peace and managed to pass out.

In the morning, I turned off the alarm quickly before it could wake Steve. Then I sucked his dry-crusty dick. He hadn’t cleaned it off after fucking me the night before. I could definitely identify the taste of my musky pussy all over him and differentiate it from the taste of Marcie. I wondered briefly if she would be impressed with how well I could take my husband’s member.

I hadn’t learned to completely deep throat it, but I was building up tolerance to my gag reflex and as my husband got hard, I was able to take most of him in my mouth. I smiled up at him as he squirmed due to how good oral felt in the morning. He reached down and yanked my hair hard. I don’t think he meant to make me yelp.

“Good slut, you can enjoy my cum later,” he pulled his dick out of my mouth, and told me to shower. “You smell like a street walker that’s been fucked by a football team,” he laughed. I probably did smell sweaty and ripe. I had gone to sleep so incredibly horny.

“Can I masturbate in the shower, baby?” I pleaded.

“Oh, look at you, already asking for favors, and it isn’t even 9 a.m.,” my husband toyed with me. He pulled me close to him as if he was going to kiss me and then blew his stinky breath in my face and said “No!”

That morning while I made breakfast, the kids groggily made their way to the kitchen table. I didn’t go around and wake them up anymore and I expected them to get ready for school. Virtual school made that easy. They didn’t have to change out of the sweats they wore to bed, or do much to prepare. Cindy looked at me as if she couldn’t believe I was still obeying my husband. I was wearing just the apron and even though my ass was hanging out I spoke to her like it was any normal morning.

“Do you want eggs and toast, or a waffle, dear?”

“I get to tell you what I want for breakfast? I thought that privilege was reserved for DAD,” Cindy rolled her eyes.

“You can ask your mom for the same things you’ve always asked her, Cindy,” Steve explained that hadn’t changed.

“Cindy ASK for things?” Daniel teased her and said she only makes demands. Cindy called him out for doing the same thing.

Steve cut them off before they could bicker. “You can tell your mom to make you waffles, okay guys? Nothing should change between you. Your mom is still your mom, okay?”

Yet, things did feel like they had changed. How could they not? The kids accepted his answer and our breakfast was relatively normal. It was strange to eat at the counter while the others sat but I did it without being told.

“You are done cooking, and I told you this is a nude day. Strip,” Steve acted like I should have known that.

“Sorry, I thought you had to tell me,” I said as I untied my apron strings and let my tits fall out of the apron.

“You can ask permission,” Steve replied.

I felt the humiliation of being expected to strip in front of my family while they were fully clothed. I was no true extrovert like Marcie. I was far too self-conscious for that. However, having to ASK permission to strip – well that galled me.

“Something wrong?” Steve asked when he saw my facial expression. I couldn’t quite hide my dismay.

“No, I am just getting used to the way things are now,” I admitted.

Steve told me that was alright and reminded me that everyone was adjusting. “Give me 10 slow jumping jacks and then clear the table and get to work, slut.”

He slipped the word slut so casually into the sentence that it sounded natural. Daniel and Teddy didn’t seem to notice. I did and certainly Cindy did. She grinned and looked at me as if waiting for me to hit the roof. I didn’t. I’d planned to talk to my husband later about calling me names in front of the kids. That seemed like it was going a bit too far and it might undermine me around the house.

Steve was right that I had never been the ogre or the authority figure, but I was still the boss when Steve wasn’t home. I wasn’t sure how I felt about being called slut outside of the bedroom.

Lunch was pretty much a repeat of the day before. Cindy was trying to get a rise out of me. She seemed to be testing my patience but in general I preferred the family talking (even if it was about me) than glued to their phones so I tolerated it.

Dinner was a little different. Cindy asked what “Stupid human pet tricks” I could perform. Steve told me to pop a beer and deliver it to him between my tits. I brought the freezing bottle over to him by squeezing my tits together.

“Maybe if she can do that while holding another between her big ass cheeks I’d be impressed,” Cindy laughed. I noticed a change in her tone though when Steve made me try to hold a spatula in my butt cheeks and another one between my tits and walk slowly across the kitchen. She seemed quietly impressed. I wondered if she was being patronizing or she genuinely thought that I was kind of a cool mom.

That evening Teddy was excited to take me out for my jog. However, Daniel wanted to take a turn. When Daniel noticed his little brother was disappointed he invited Teddy to join us. Teddy was extremely excited to tag along with his older brother. They seldom hung out together. They simply had little in common, and even though the age gap was only two and a half years between them, they were as different as two brothers could possibly be.

Daniel invited Cindy as well. “Be seen with Madame fat butt as you two show her off around the neighborhood? I’d rather pluck my own eyeballs out and stick them up my ass.”

“Suit yourself,” Daniel replied coolly. This time we ran into several people but Daniel did the talking and if anyone seemed confused he simply said it was a new form of exercise. He and his brother talked most of the time together, and all I had to do was slow jog. I did it without being told I had to do it. Cindy watched from the porch but this time we all waved at her and smiled as we did our second lap.

We encountered the same man from the previous night. The one I had instinctively spoken to when I should not have.

I was actually thankful when a man with a dog stopped to wave hello. “Be careful, you might just hurt yourself!” he half joked as I dashed by.

“Mom, Stop for a second. What do you mean she could get hurt?” Teddy seemed concerned. I stopped running.

“Well, your mom needs good posture. She can pull a muscle and hurt herself” He was talking directly to Teddy, only pointing to me. It was so embarrassing to be talked about by a stranger. He clearly meant that my big boobs were probably going to give me two black eyes. I was nearly popping out of the ultra-small swimsuit. I was positive that the man was having a laugh at my expense.

“Can you show her how to do it properly?” Teddy was beaming. He wanted me to do it right.

“What is your mom’s name?” he asked politely.

“Dad calls her Slut. I guess you can too”

Oh my god, Teddy just told that old man to call me Slut! I hadn’t counted on being addressed that way in public.

“Slut, huh? Well, when you run, you have to watch out or you’ll give yourself two big shiners,” he began to jog in place while holding the dog.

I ran in place the way that he did.

“Oh, her boobies look really big like that” Teddy was loving this, and Daniel seemed slightly amused.

“Exactly. She has magnificent breasts, and that much weight hanging off her will force her back to bend.

She needs to purposefully press her back straight and her Tits out. It will go a long way.”

“I am going to tell Dad these tips.”

Could this just end? I felt like curling up in a little ball, and yet I was incredibly turned on. This was a neighbor – someone who lived nearby. I didn’t know him, but I was bound to run into him again. It seemed so exciting to be out in public like this and yet so taboo.

.

“And when she is running, she needs to get her knees up. Her thigh should be parallel to the ground. This will help with burning extra calories.”

“Mom, can you show us you can do this right?” Daniel joined. He didn’t ask me. He TOLD me. They want the best for me. How could I refuse? That wasn’t’ the deal anyway.

I started to run in place with my jugs thrust out and my knees high. The poor wicked weasel could not handle the stresses it was under, and my tits fell out.

Teddy clapped. “Wow, that looks good.”

The stranger smiled at us. He winked at me as I cupped my breasts and blushed while continuing to jog in place. They stood and talked for a few minutes about books and movies and nerdy stuff. It was clear that the man had an affinity for comic books and Teddy liked that.

“Nice going, slut!” Daniel pat my head after he continued on his way.

“Yeah, you did really well. I like how you made it look like an accident that your tits popped out!” Teddy laughed.

“It was not an accident,” I admitted sheepishly. Neither of my sons believed me. They thought I was a silly extrovert.

“At least you didn’t talk this time, and you behaved. I’ll have to tell Dad,” Teddy seemed extremely proud of me. Daniel seemed mildly impressed as well.

I hated to admit it but I liked being called slut. “Next time, do you think maybe you can call me Mom or Julie to strangers?” I pleaded politely.

“Why? Your name is slut,” Teddy laughed.

I didn’t argue with him.

“No misbehavior to report?” Steve seemed disappointed that I had behaved myself and followed his rules when we got back home. I was coated in a fine sheen of sweat. “Well, I guess time in the corner taught you a lesson yesterday,” he smiled at me. I liked getting praised and smiled.

“Take off the bikini, wad it up, and suck on it. You can kneel at the couch and watch TV with us,” he said.

Everyone in the family had a TV in their room, and we had all the streaming services. No one could agree on what to watch and so television was usually a solitary activity. However, there we were watching the Walking Dead as a family. It was strange to kneel on the carpet. I rested my butt on my thighs and had to keep my mouth shut. I felt a little like the family pet, but after the giggles and chuckles stopped we got into the program, and I enjoyed it. Rick ended up dying on the bridge to save everyone else in that episode. It was spectacular!

That night I asked Steve about calling me a slut in the morning. “You are my slut, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Okay, and they’ve heard me call you much worse names; I think they can handle hearing the word slut around the house,” Steve dismissed my concerns. It wasn’t that I didn’t think they could HANDLE the word. I didn’t press the issue though. Steve didn’t use it as a pet name excessively, but he slipped it into general conversation with me a few times a day.

The rest of the week went pretty much like that day. Each day the family adjusted a little more to the unusual circumstances. At night, my husband went back to giving me naughty assignments to walk the neighborhood or exercise while the sprinklers went off in the front yard.

The difference was that he took suggestions from the kids, and then told them about it the next day. Teddy didn’t have to stealth around to find out what I did because my husband had a recording on my cell phone to show him.

Friday night, Marcie and Mike were scheduled to come over. Mike did not want me to warn them that I’d be naked ahead of time. He sent me to the door in just my apron to welcome them when they knocked.

“Come on in,” I said as I closed the door behind them.

“Oh my gosh, look at you!” Marcie was delighted. Mike smiled as well. “Are the kids not home?”

“No, they are. Is that cool?”

“You don’t have anything on under that apron, hon,” Marcie stated the obvious and smirked at me. She was obviously okay with it but wondered if my kids were.

“I know, I only put it on so as not to freak you out or shock the neighbor,” I said as I led them into the kitchen to meet Mike. “May I strip for dinner? Marcie and Mike are okay with me being naked.”

“Yes,” Steve gave me permission. I removed the apron and Marcie, and Mike laughed good naturedly.

“You are a nudist, now?” Marcie asked.

I hadn’t thought about it, but technically I guess I was a nudist now. “I wear clothes sometimes,” I admitted.

“Oh, I see!!” Marcie smiled excitedly. She must have assumed that I must be a slave even though that wasn’t my perspective.

“Do you eat off the floor like a little puppy?” she asked playfully as she took a seat at the table. She noticed there were only enough chairs for them and the other members of my family. Cindy and Daniel laughed along with Mike. Even Teddy was grinning.

“No, I stand and eat at the counter,” I replied as I finished putting the warm food on the table. I assumed my instructions to give complete answers extended to her, and I had yet to realize she assumed that I was a slave. My understanding of BDSM was extremely limited and I had never thought about eating like a dog off of the floor.

“Woof, Woof, Doggy!” Cindy giggled playfully.

“Well, that should change immediately. Get yourself a bowl and eat at our feet. You shouldn’t be above us while we dine,” Marcie put an aristocratic air in her tone.

“Only my husband gives me instructions,” I harumphed. I was worried about freaking out the Flynn’s, but now they were grinning at me like I was a fool to be ridiculed.

I’ve crawled around for my husband. I hadn’t crawled in the presence of my kids; they had seen me do it during dares and knew I did it. Marcie gave me a side-eye like I was being unruly and uppity. I respected Marcie and did whatever she told me in the bedroom, but she was taking things a bit far around the kids. She looked at Steve to see how he would respond.

“Marcie is the guest, dear. If they would be more comfortable with you on the floor instead of standing while they try to eat, that is fine. Why don’t you kneel at the table,” he said.

I knelt all the time, especially during family time. I found it humiliating at first to kneel on the floor while the kids sat on the couch. However, now it felt like Steve was standing up for me by insisting I kneel. I made myself a plate and put a glass on the floor and knelt by my husband’s feet.

“You aren’t training her very well,” Marcie teased. “You probably feed her from the table,” she quipped. I had no idea that she was referring to BDSM training. I assumed it was an insult, but the others clearly thought she was joking. Her tone was jovial, but I read a lot more into what she was saying. I think the fact that I was nervous about their reaction was playing into it as well.

“The slut is being trained just fine, she hasn’t been punished since Monday,” Teddy spoke up for me. He hadn’t called me a slut before then. It sounded so wrong coming out of his mouth. Yet, I understood exactly why he said what he did. Steve called me slut as a loving moniker, and I hadn’t been stood in the corner since that first night.

“Oh wow, I really admire you for being open and honest about the lifestyle with your kids,” Marcie’s tone changed immediately to appreciation for us as parents. That surprised me. She seemed to take issue with how I behaved. I had no idea why standing during dinner mattered to her. Now she seemed supportive.

What lifestyle? I had no idea what she was talking about. There was a ‘lifestyle’? I was suddenly interested in hearing about it though. Were there other people like us? Was Marcie?

“Naughty Julie, what did you do to deserve a punishment?” Marcie teased me.

I was taking a drink of water and nearly choked when she asked me. I knew without looking up at my husband that I’d have to answer a direct question.

“I broke the rules,” I tried to be circumspect and avoid the question. My husband tapped me on the back of the neck to remind me that I had agreed to be more forthcoming when asked a question.

“Our guests asked you a question. Do you remember what you did wrong, dear?”

“I was jogging around the neighborhood in the bikini you let me borrow,” I began. Marcie was already stifling a giggle. Mike had a grin on his face as well. “I kept taking my phone out of my mouth to talk to my son Teddy. I also dropped it accidentally.”

“And you spoke to the neighbor, when I was supposed to do the talking!” Teddy reminded me. I remembered but I had intentionally left that out. I nodded and thanked him while gritting my teeth.

“Ooh, you are a little firecracker,” she complimented Teddy. “Did you get to punish your mom?”

“No, but I got to suggest it! She had to stand in the corner with her bikini in her mouth and her finger in her BUTT!”

Teddy’s eyes grew wide as she recalled the scene because to him it was hilarious and light hearted.

“Oh my,” Marcie became flustered. “I had no idea you were such a dirty girl,” she told me. “If I had known you were nudists when we came on Sunday, we could have skinny dipped in your pool!”

“Gross, WE are not nudists, just my mom,” Cindy clarified sternly.

“Do your kids also do puppy play?”

“No, they don’t but if they saw us and wanted to we wouldn’t make them feel bad about it. Puppy see, puppy do,” Mike added.

“Tiffany is just like you. Now that she has sprouted boobies, she doesn’t like running around sunning her buns. You should try nudism though. We used to go camping at nudist resorts. It’s a lot of fun!”

“Your sons walk around with their peckers hanging out at campgrounds?” Daniel seemed amused. He mentioned that he went to high school with her kids.

“Yeah, we all do,” Mike folded his arms to suggest there was nothing wrong with being naked.

“How do you control your boner?” Daniel laughed.

“There isn’t anything sexual about it. Guys don’t walk around hard out in public. We take care of things in private. You don’t walk around with a boner in your jeans at school do you?” Mike asked.

“Teddy does,” Daniel teased his little brother playfully. Daniel squeezed the back of Teddy’s neck as he often did when he was trying to get a rise out of his little brother. Teddy blushed.

“Hey, it’s perfectly normal to be naked at those campgrounds. Nobody bothers anyone, and no hanky panky happens out in the open. I’d trust my daughter walking around naked at a nudist resort much more than I would one with clothes. Everyone is very cool and supportive there,” Mike said.

Daniel seemed skeptical. We all did.

“The point is that nobody is judged. Everybody’s got something between their legs. You guys got used to seeing your mom naked around the house, right? You don’t walk around with boners when you see HER do you?”

“Teddy does,” Cindy teased her little brother and squeezed the back of his neck playfully in the same tone that Daniel used earlier.

“Well, your mom IS a beautiful lady,” Mike admitted. It was my turn to blush. If there was any doubt that we hooked up with the Flynns when the kids went to bed it was gone when Mike made it obvious that he fancied me.

“Maybe we will go camping sometime,” my husband suggested. Cindy was the only one who said that was a no-go. Daniel was probably thinking about the naked girls he might meet there. I’d heard about nudist resorts (obviously) but I’d never been to one.

I wasn’t sure if my husband was seriously considering it or if he was just being polite.

“What do you think, dear? Would you like to go camping at a nudist resort?” my husband asked.

“It’s not up to me,” I reminded him.

“I didn’t say it was. I asked you if you would enjoy camping in the nude?” he said.

I cringed a little when he corrected me. I smiled and said that would be lovely, but it sounds like Cindy wouldn’t like it.

The conversation eventually returned to more familiar topics about current events and the food. Marcie enjoyed the meal. I appreciated that. She apologized at the end.

“I am sorry for bringing up puppy play, if that makes you uncomfortable,” she said. “I’ve done it before. I am kind of a SAM,” she said. When it was obvious none of us would get that reference, she explained that she was a smart-assed masochist.

We still didn’t know what she was talking about.

“My wife nags, bitches, and goads me until I turn her over and give her a hard spanking, turn her ass red and after she has a nice cry she gets her bitch button reset and is nice again.”

“You spank your wife? Dude, that’s fucked up,” Daniel was dismayed.

“No, it’s abuse!” Cindy insisted.

“It’s mean,” Teddy added.

“No, it’s not abuse. It’s perfectly consensual. I love Mike and I gave him permission,” Marcie explained. She took her husband’s arm lovingly. “Everybody knows I’ve got resting bitch face,” Marcie demonstrated by glowering at us until we laughed. “I can’t help it. It’s my nature, and every now and then I get so tired of being snotty that I need the snot knocked out of me.”

“Doesn’t it hurt to get spanked?” Teddy sounded concerned.

Marcie looked at him adoringly for being concerned about the welfare of her bottom. I’ve seen her take a pounding and smile. “I am not porcelain, and I won’t break if I get my butt slapped. I spank my kids when they misbehave too! It’s done out of love, not out of cruelty. I want them to behave and learn from their mistakes. It’s a momentary discomfort and a little embarrassing which is good when they act too big for their britches. No bones are broken, no cuts, just a rosy-red ass that stings long enough to send a message that the behavior wasn’t acceptable. I take it your daddy doesn’t spank you?”

“No!” Teddy said.

“Well, you are a good boy,” Marcie chuckled. She looked at Daniel and Cindy knowingly as if she recognized that they were troublemakers. “Every parent approaches discipline a little differently and we pick our battles and do what works- different strokes, for different folks, you know?”

Mike added “Look, I love my wife. She may be trouble on steroids and a handful sometimes but there is no way I would ever harm my wife. I am sure Steve feels the same way. If you guys take away nothing else from this conversation, it’s that life is too short to live the way other people tell you to live. If you aren’t hurting anyone and everyone consents then -who gives a fuck? Do you hear what I am saying?”

That was a pretty good way of summing things up. That night they hung out with the kids in the living room with Steve while I knelt at the couch. The kids evaporated on their own without being told they were crowding us, which was nice of them. We eventually went upstairs Mike and Marcie and shut our door.

“How come you didn’t tell us you were into BDSM?” Marcie asked as she peeled out of her clothes. I was already naked so I unzipped my husband and began to suck his cock.

“We aren’t,” Steve explained. We didn’t know anything about leather, whips and chains. Mike and Marcie found that hard to believe, given that I had knelt at the couch.

“I don’t get it,” Marcie was befuddled. “You’ve been a proper little service slave all night on your knees. You dutifully served snacks, asked permission to eat. That’s high protocol. The only thing that is missing was a collar.”

A collar? A dog collar?

I didn’t understand, but I assumed that we had stumbled on some kink that there was already a name for. What I did understand was that Marcie looked at me with more respect, as if she saw a kindred spirit in me. I liked that a lot.

“All I did was what I normally do, just in the nude and sometimes kneeling,” I blushed. It was hard for me to accept compliments.

“Well, you are naturally submissive, and so making sure everyone’s glass is full, and that people have snacks, and taking care of the dishes without being asked is in your nature.”

Oh? That was a real feather in my cap. I wasn’t a KINDRED spirit to Marcie. I was something she admired. I couldn’t have been more thrilled. I got on the bed and crawled around “Woof, woof” I barked sweetly.

“Oh, so NOW you do it?” Marcie giggled, and Mark smacked my ass.

“Is that all you got?” I teased Marcie’s husband to let him know that he could spank me harder.

“Hey, that’s my line,” Marcie slid up on the bed and invited my husband to spank her ass. Steve and Mike took turns seeing how hard they could spank us with their hands. My ass stung so bad that I regretted egging him on. Mike knows how to curve his hand at just the right time and put a sort of a spin on it. He also doesn’t shy away from spanking my pussy, and between the endorphins from the pain and the excitement of watching Marcie smile and tease my husband as he lit up her ass, I was having fun.

It was unabashedly painful, and yet – it was fun. The best part was 15 minutes after the spanking I felt all the nerve-endings in my booty light up like there were a thousand fireflies buzzing in my ass. It felt warm and wonderful. I got fucked so hard that I fell off the bed that night.

Marcie became increasingly dominant with me as the night went on.

“You can sleep on the floor until we get you a cage, slut,” she insisted. I didn’t try to get back in bed. I wasn’t sure if she was kidding. I waited for her to tell me she was just joking, and when she didn’t, I laid down on the carpet and slept at the foot while the three of them continued to carry on.

It made me impossibly horny to hear the others slurping, touching, loving, and humping. I could have masturbated because my husband doesn’t hold me to any restrictions when we are having sex with the Flynns, and he was completely engaged in using Marcie anyway. I felt like I had to stop touching myself though, and I was horny all night.

When I awoke, I had a shag carpet imprint on my face and my left boob. My hair was matted with cum and sweat and I looked messy. I looked up and saw the three of them looking down at me.

“Have a nice rest, sleeping beauty?”

“Not really. What time is it?” I wiped my eyes.

“A little after nine,” Marcie said. I always got up much earlier to get breakfast ready. I panicked and felt guilty that I had ignored the kids.

“Relax, they made their own breakfast,” Marcie said she saw to it. Marcie was naked. Had she gone downstairs in the nude? I didn’t know. I supposed that if she had, it really wouldn’t matter since my boys had adjusted to seeing me naked.

They got dressed and departed shortly after that. As they were leaving, Marcie pointed to me and said “Get over here and give me a kiss, slut!”

I had been obeying her every order in the bedroom, and I have to admit I was a bit “cock-drunk”. That’s my word for being almost drunk on how much sexual stimulation I had experienced. I obediently approached her and gave her a kiss (with tongue) without thinking about the fact that the kids were watching. It just felt natural.

I was still naked, and had managed to fix my hair, but I couldn’t do much about the carpet imprint on my body. After they left, I turned to my kids and apologized for not making breakfast.

“Obviously, you had other priorities,” Cindy made me feel small and ashamed.

“It’s no big deals, we just heated up some waffles in the microwave,” Daniel assured me. He glared at Cindy.

“How come you did what Mrs. Flynn told you to do, but last night you said you would only obey dad?” Teddy confronted me. He looked betrayed, as if he was angry that I lied to him.

“Yeah, you are going to do what a total stranger tells you to do, but I can’t tell you to make me a waffle?”

Steve intervened before I had a chance to say anything.

“You can tell your mom to make you a waffle. Nothing has changed for you,” he said.

That afternoon I put on regular clothes for the first time in a long time. It felt strange like I shouldn’t be doing it. I had to get groceries. I asked everyone if they wanted anything or they wanted to go with me.

“Can I do the talking like when you go jogging?” Teddy asked me.

“I am just going to the grocery store. I do not think anyone is going to talk to us, but sure, I guess so,” I shrugged. It was a fairly mundane activity, but Teddy seemed so happy to tell me what line was the shortest, and he asked the cashier for the receipt at the end. It was kind of charming.

It was obvious that he felt like he was my defender or protector, and that I needed him to be there with me. It was really nice, even though I could certainly handle myself at the store.

That night, he and his brother took me out for a jog. They didn’t do that every night, but we were doing it at least two to three times a week. It was great because they finally had something in common that they could both do together.

It was a pretty good Saturday! I would have done my normal house chores like laundry, grocery shopped, and probably watched TV or read a book. I had grown so used to my boring and ordinary life that I never gave myself permission to do anything else but follow my routine.Today, was so different – so wild, and exciting. I had no idea what would happen next but I was looking forward to it.

That night, my family and I watched TV after dinner. As they often did, they discussed what tasks I’d have to do after bedtime.

“I think you should make Mom eat a bowl of dog food and crawl around like a dog,” Cindy suggested wickedly. She was obviously trying to goad me because of what Marcie suggested for me the night before.

“Yeah, puppy play! puppy play!” Teddy jumped up and down enthusiastically. He’s always wanted a puppy for years, but I’ve always known I would end up being the one to walk and care for the dog.

“First of all, we don’t even have any dog food,” Steve held up his hand and made it clear that was a boundary.

Cindy didn’t care. She had only said it to get my goat. Teddy looked disappointed. I felt a little bad for him.

“All I have to do is crawl around and eat from a bowl?” I asked him sympathetically.

“No!” Teddy became enthusiastic again. “You’d have to wiggle your tail, and sniff, and pant, and sit up, and roll over, and play fetch and do all the things REAL puppies do!”

His overly-excited reaction made the rest of the family laugh. I was secretly mortified, and sorry I had asked. I knew exactly how animated he expected me to be.

“It’s not up to me,” I replied somberly. “You can ask your father,” I said.

He looked at his dad with puppy dog eyes of his own like he was wishing for a Christmas present.

Steve couldn’t deny him, and as humiliating as the task was going to be, I couldn’t either. I got down on my hands and knees and began to wiggle my ass. I stuck my tongue out and panted like a dumb bimbo. Everyone laughed at me.

“Can I pet you?” he asked.

I turned my head side to side the way dogs do when they hear a human say something but they aren’t sure what they mean. He smiled and patted my hair. After that, I followed him around the house as he patted his thighs and called me. “Here girl ... here girl ... what’s your name, puppy, what’s your name?”

“WOOF!” I barked to let him know that in character I couldn’t talk. If this was “kink” it didn’t feel that way. Even though I was naked there was nothing sexual about it. It was silly and fun, and everyone laughed. My nipples WERE hard but that was more from dragging them on the carpet when I crawled. My pussy was wet, but that wasn’t uncommon lately.

I knew that my ass crack was spread and they could see me asshole while I crawled. It wouldn’t be the first time. I tried not to think about how exposed and ridiculous I looked. Instead, I lost myself in the role and barked, and sniffed around.

Daniel found a rubber ball some place and tossed it out on the carpet. “Go get it, slut” he said casually.

I chased after the ball and picked it up with my mouth. It tasted like mildew, but I held it in my teeth like it was a trophy and shook it triumphantly.

“Bring it here, slut,” he said.

I teased Daniel and dashed away so that he’d give chase. He called me again, and instead I tried to challenge him to chase me and take the ball. He and Teddy worked together to corner me and take it from me rather easily. They whipped it across the living room, and I chased after it.

Cindy rolled her eyes and said she’d go to bed.

I dropped the ball and raced towards her. I began to sniff around her butt the way dogs do when they have the scent of something. Then I pretended I smelled stinky pants.

Cindy giggled and shooed me away. “Go on, get slut ... stop sniffing me,” she teased.

I cowered, and she squatted down and reached her hand out to me. I moved my head close to her hand and began to lick the back of her hand.

“Gross,” she laughed it off and stood up. She stayed and watched my playful antics a little longer before going to bed. The boys played with me for thirty minutes. I didn’t have to eat anything out of a dog dish but my antics were a big hit.

If this was puppy play, I really didn’t mind once I tried it. I liked it. Usually, the boys weren’t invited to participate in my nighttime dares or even watch them. However, that night Steve simply observed with pride and smiled.

My husband had to put a stop to it. I probably would have kept playing because I was having fun. I was running out of new things to do because dogs really don’t have a wide range of activities that they engage in.

He promised the boys that we’d do “puppy play” again, and they went to bed. I followed my husband into the bedroom glowing and inspired. I was high on adrenaline and all smiles. It was the first time in a long time that I felt like that. I had fun but a lot of what I did terrified me or turned me on or both. This was different.

“Do you think I am a pervert for enjoying that, Steve?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he laughed off my question. When he saw that I was serious, he asked me why I asked the question.

“I think a lot of people might see what I did tonight and think that I am depraved for acting like a dog around my kids.”

“There wasn’t anything sexual about what you did. I guess sniffing Cindy’s butt was kind of hot,” Steve teased me.

“I sort of lost myself in the game. We probably weren’t doing it the way that Marcie and Mike do. I just couldn’t stop thinking about what my parents might think if they ever visited for Christmas and I was barking like a dog?”

Steve chuckled over the mental image. “I’d probably light you up like a Christmas tree, stick a candy cane up your butt, hang decorative balls from your tits, and have the kids unwrap presents under you,” he teased.

“Yeah, that’s probably going to give my dad a heart-attack and my mom would never talk to me again,” I chuckled. My mom loves to talk for hours on the phone. I joked that maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

My husband positioned me in bed and started to fuck me. “Do you still think the kids respect me?” I asked as I squirmed down on his cock and began to ride him. I was wet, so no foreplay was needed.

He sighed. I knew I was ruining his boner, but I couldn’t stop thinking about things. I thought about the way things used to be, and wondering if I should returning to my boring little life. I thought about my husband’s hard cock, and how turned on I was - was this wrong if we both enjoyed it? guilty feelings about being naughty ran down my spine - and I liked it almost as much as I feared those feelings.

“As an authority figure? Probably not so much, but they never did. As a mother, hell, yes. They think you are cool as fuck. Cindy gives you shit, but even she was impressed tonight.”

“What if I wasn’t an authority figure at all? Would you be able to handle that all on your own? All the discipline?”

Steve stopped fucking and let his cock rest inside me. “What are you asking?”

“It’s not up to me,” I shrugged and looked down. My courage was waning. Steve lifted my chin. “I am instructing you to tell me what you want?”

I sighed. “I don’t know,” I admitted,

O that I wasn’t certain. This was all new to me. We’d be doing it for a few weeks, and I really liked it. I told Steve that I wanted more. “Today, when I was at the grocery store I felt like I was cheating. I was back to boring Julie,” I admitted.

“You’d probably get kicked out if you walked in wearing the bikini”

“I know, and it’s probably not realistic, but I’d like to do this more, all the time,” I said. I apologized for being selfish. I was being indulgent, and I started to feel guilty about abandoning being a mom. “There is probably a need for boring Julie some time, and I am not saying be a puppy 24/7. Last night, Marcie talked about a lifestyle. I do not know what any of that is, but I kind of want what we are doing to be our lifestyle?”

“Are you serious? That’s great,” Steve smiled broadly.

“I do have something to ask, and I don’t know how to say it without it probably coming out wrong,” I added gingerly. Steve told me to just spit it out. His cock throbbed inside me. He was harder than ever even though he wasn’t thrusting, and neither was I.

“You keep saying that nothing changes for the kids. They should just talk to me like they always do, but things have changed for them. I’ve changed, and when the boys take me out jogging, they do the talking.”

“Yeah, I know. I am sorry about that. I just wanted to make Teddy feel like he had a job to do when he took you jogging. I shouldn’t have undermined you like that. I’ll tell the guys you can talk if people want to talk to you.”

“No, please,” I said abruptly. My husband misunderstood. “Today, Teddy was like my little protector at the grocery store. He made sure that he did all of the talking and he felt useful. I did not want to take that away from him.”

“Oh, okay?” Steve didn’t see a problem, and he prompted me to explain what I wanted. It was so hard to say what I wanted.

“Tomorrow, can you tell me that I have to do what they tell me sometimes too?” I felt embarrassed as soon as I heard myself saying it out loud. It sounded like I wanted to sexually submit to my kids, and I didn’t.

Steve was clearly puzzled.

“The kids watch you tell me what to do, and they know I liked to be given instructions. I think I am a natural submissive. I like following orders. I like making people happy, and I sense their frustration. What if you told them they could tell me to do things within reason?”

My husband was silent and grim. I assumed that I had suggested something that was really over the top.

“You know Teddy is going to want you to bark like a dog?”

“Yes,” I knew that. “You are going to tell me to do it around him anyway.”

“He’s also going to tell you to stick your finger up your butt. You know that too?”

It was my turn to be silent.

“Let’s put some limits on what they can tell me to do,” I suggested some boundaries.

“Ah! See? But by your logic, I am going to tell you to do it around him when he asks to see it, and I can’t resist his puppy dog eyes,” my husband turned my logic around on me.

“Would you be comfortable letting him tell me to do it?”

“As long as he was responsible. I wouldn’t let him use any of my toys if he abused them,” Steve said. His “toys” were his power tools in the garage.

That night my husband and I worked out the details and had a rough plan. I was so nervous in the morning because he wanted me to be the one to explain it all. I waited until breakfast was served and everyone was eating to have the ‘talk’. Steve called it a Pow-wow.

I was so nervous, that I was having second thoughts. I felt my throat tighten. This was more nerve wracking then the first time I stripped in front of the kids.

“Your mom has something to talk to you about,” Steve got their attention.

“As you know, I do whatever your father tells me,” I began.

“Yeah, whatever DAD says, but any of us,” Cindy made a farting noise to indicate that I’d refuse their order.

“This morning, he instructed me to do what you tell me,” I replied calmly. Cindy’s face brightened and she grinned as if she just got one over on me. I didn’t want to make this seem like it was all my idea and Steve was happy to accommodate me.

“There are limits and expectations, but I think you will find them to be easy to understand and agreeable,” I began as I had practiced in my head. Cindy, Teddy and Daniel were eagerly awaiting the explanation.

“Obviously, you have the option to leave things as they are now, and nothing would change. You can ask or tell me to make you food, bring you a drink, clean up your mess, and if I have time I will get to it,” I said. That was how it had been even before things changed. My kids took care of a few chores around the house if I ASKED them but it was often more trouble than it was worth so I took out the chores.

“Your father has also forbidden me to ask you to do chores, punish you, criticize you, or tease you. If I do, you are to report me,” I said. That’s going to be the rule from now on no matter what you decide today.

There was a general hurrah from the kids. I could be a little passive-aggressive but for the last few weeks, I hadn’t done any of that anyway.

“Tell them about the expectations first,” Steve said.

“Oh, obviously, there is a catch,” Cindy rolled her eyes.

“If you want to be able to tell me what to do, then you have to get decent grades and not miss school unless you are sick,” I began. There was a general groan. The kids were like typical teenagers and did their share of ‘my stomach hurts’, but it’s hard to be too sick to go to virtual school. You just sit your butt in front of your computer in your room. They could very easily meet this requirement. Steve insisted on it being the first one.

“You have to respect your father. I will be your mom, but I have no rule enforcement power, so if you talk back to him, or misbehave then he will suspend your privileges.”

“How long is this list, Gah-awdd,” Cindy joked playfully.

“The final expectation is that you have to be willing to keep an eye on me. That means I can no longer leave the house on my own. Your dad doesn’t want me running errands in sweats. If you agree to this, then you have to be prepared to come with me if I have to go grocery shopping and make sure that I behave, talk for me, and report back to your father in case I need to be punished.”

“Oh my god,” Cindy had the biggest smile on her face.

“If you make up things that your mom didn’t do to get her in trouble though, I will suspend the privileges,” Steve added sternly.

“You can’t order me to do anything that would get me fired, arrested, or killed,” I began. That seemed like common sense but Steve had insisted that be the first thing.

“You CAN order me to do anything you’ve seen your father make me do around the house,” I added. I couldn’t look directly at Teddy because I assumed he was giddy and full of questions. I assured him that I would answer them.

“Obviously, there is a responsibility that comes with that authority, guys,” Steve interjected. “If it’s something I tell your mom to do in the middle of the night, then it’s a nighttime thing. You will have to use some good judgment, and when in doubt you can ask me. There is also a chain of command. If I give your mom a direct order then you can’t confuse her by giving her the exact opposite instruction.”

“I am the oldest, so I am the next in command,” Daniel grinned.

“No, you are all equal. I do not want you to squabble. If you can’t agree to share your mom, and take turns then we’ll go back to how it was,” Steve said. It was strangely humiliating and flattering at the same time to be talked about like a favorite toy.

“Does that mean I can tell you to be a puppy all day?”

“Save your questions to the end, please,” I said politely. “There is a time limit of approximately 15 minutes to any order you give me. Once I am done, then you should give someone else a turn. Obviously, if I have work to do, or your father has given me an instruction, then that takes precedence.”

I asked if there were any questions.

“Can we tell you what to wear and eat?” Cindy asked with a bright cheerful grin.

“Yes,” I said. “Not dog food,” I added. I looked at my husband for confirmation. He grinned and nodded. We hadn’t discussed that but I assumed that was fine.

“My very own human barbie doll to feed up and play with like a dolly? This is going to be fun,” Cindy grinned.

“If you are working can we give you an order that you can do WHILE you work?” Teddy asked.

My husband told him to let me work in peace, but Teddy wanted to clarify. “Like, if I told mom to chicken dance while she is off-camera on a Zoom call?”

“Oh, that would be fun,” Steve smirked. “Yeah, as long as she can get her work done.”

I wondered if I had gone too far, but they all seemed very happy.

“Can I bring over friends?” Daniel grinned wickedly.

“First of all, it’s a pandemic, and if you ever have friends coming over, you need to clear it with me. Your mom will wear something appropriate,” Steve said sternly before adding with a grin “like a robe or a bikini.”

“Can I ask mom to stick her finger in her butt?” Teddy asked the question I thought he’d ask. He was so cute and meek about how he asked as if he were hopeful but really unsure.

“No son,” Steve put his hand on Teddy’s shoulder to console him. “You can’t ask. You can TELL her to stick her finger in her butt. Nothing bigger than a finger though, nothing sharp and nothing that is going to get lost In there.”

Teddy’s eyes grew huge. I think all three of the kids were stunned.

“You see her do it several times a day. Go ahead, tell her,” Steve offered me to Teddy. My son seemed uncertain. “You are going to agree to my expectations and keep an eye on your mom for me if she has to leave?”

“Oh yeah,” Teddy said. “Slut,” he turned to me and in as formal of a voice as he could muster “Insert your finger into your asshole.”It was so surreal hearing my young son give me an order – I couldn’t believe he said it. I couldn’t believe I was doing it - but here we were. Teddy had seen me do it already – but it was different doing it FOR him. I blushed. Then I bent over and spread my legs and stuck my ass out. I reached behind me and slipped my finger into my butt. He had seen me do it several times before but this time I did it because he told me, and I could see from the look on his face that he thought that was the coolest. I didn’t mind. I quite liked it.

“What about the front? Can we tell her to, you know?” Daniel implied masturbation. That I had not done IN front of them, but they had seen me do it when they used to sneak around and watch me, and they knew I did it late at night behind the bushes in the yard.

Steve and I hadn’t discussed this. I trembled a little.

“I did say anything that you have seen me order your mother to do,” Steve began. I felt like such a dirty woman. “We will have to have a few exceptions though,” Steve admitted. I sighed a breath of relief.

“Your mom isn’t allowed to masturbate without permission,” he smiled at me and patted me on the head. “I don’t feel comfortable letting her masturbate for 15 full minutes at a time. If she is well-behaved and you think she has earned it, you can give her permission to play with herself for five minutes.”

My face turned red, I was mortified. The kids seemed puzzled and a little confused.

“She needs to thank you, and if she doesn’t then you need to tell me to punish her for being ungrateful. Obviously, this is something for around the house or in the car. She can’t do this in the grocery store or out in public.”

The kids looked at my husband as if he was kidding, but I knew he wasn’t. “She doesn’t have to take you up on the offer,” he smiled. “Your mom doesn’t get a lot of relief, and she is a slut. That’s what they do. You all know she plays with herself. You’ve all seen her. She’s fingering her butt right now.”

I wasn’t moving it in and out of my ass, but he had a point. “If you are comfortable watching, you can observe or you can let her have a little privacy, but you need to hold her to five minutes. That’s the deal. Don’t spoil her.”

“Can mom use her special dildo?” Teddy asked. He had seen me using it on myself on one of the first nights, and he also knew about it from some of the late-night dares.

“I keep it in my dresser up in the bedroom so that your mom isn’t tempted to use it without permission. You can send your mother upstairs to get it if you are feeling gracious, but her timer starts the moment she returns with it. That’s only fair. Are any of you uncomfortable with that?”

“No,” they replied. I was surprised. This was unexpected and intensely humiliating.

“Fine, go get your dildo. Crawl upstairs, and bring it back clenched in your teeth, slut. You can take your finger out of your ass while you crawl, but after you demonstrate how to use it, clean it and return it to the draw, you’ll ask Teddy for his permission to put your finger back in your ass after you finish. I don’t want him not to get the full 15 minutes if he wants it.”

I blushed and proceeded upstairs. My head was spinning. Had I gone overboard? Crawling naked to retrieve my dildo from my bedroom so that I could demonstrate how I used it for my family? When Steve said, he hid it from me to keep me from temptation, he was half-right. I knew where it was. I had just restrained myself from taking it out of his dresser.

It was too late for me to change my mind. I dutifully returned holding the dildo sideways in my mouth like a dog would carry a bone. “Stand up and masturbate. If this is to weird for anyone, now is the time to say it, because we can change things up, but you all know she does it, and it’s perfectly natural for people to play with themselves.”

I stood over the dildo and without lubrication, slid it into my pussy. I was so wet that there was a ‘schnick’ sound as I pushed it deep inside. I pinched my nipples and looked awkward as I humped myself.

“Oh c’mon, smile slut. You normally love this; what’s the matter?” Steve read my lemony expression.

“May I sit on the floor and finish myself?” I asked sweetly.

“Yes, get comfortable,” he took a sip of his coffee.

I sat on my butt, spread my legs apart, and began to fuck myself with my dildo. I tuned out the tittering laughter and the shock value of my kids, and focused on getting myself off. I could smell my pussy-musk as I beat my pussy up with the dildo.

My thighs were glistening like two jelly donuts because of how wet I was as I frigged myself mercilessly. This was not how I used to get myself off, but lately, it was the way I really liked to be touched, and pounding my pussy was really turning my screws and making me breathe heavily and pant.

“Good God, are you trying to churn butter or get off?” Cindy sounded disgusted. It was one of a dozen or so stray comments the kids had made about the perverted spectacle I was making of myself. I really hadn’t listened because I was intent on getting myself completely turned on. That was the only way I could turn my brain off and stop feeling guilty that I probably shouldn’t be doing this.

“Slut, your daughter asked you a question. Can you stop thinking about your own pleasure for a moment and answer?” Steve asked. I heard his voice over the din of the others and the orgasmic euphoria that I was approaching.

“Huh? Oh, I am sorry; what was the question?” I sounded exasperated as if I had just woken up from a dream. I was sweating, and I was SO close to an orgasm that I could almost taste it.

My family laughed over my dildo-induced stupor because I had fucked myself silly. Cindy told me never to mind, and Steve said that obviously, the demonstration was successful. “Go ahead and clean your dildo and then crawl upstairs and put it back, as you were instructed.”

I probably looked sweaty and frustrated. I almost begged to be allowed a few more seconds. “Oh, sorry, that’s how I like it, Cindy. I hope I didn’t disgust anyone?”

I went to the sink and washed off the dildo. Then I asked my husband, “Do I have to crawl it all the way back upstairs?”

“Yes, but this time push the dildo down your throat and suck it properly,” he said sternly.

“Hurry back,” Cindy patronizingly teased me as I got down on all fours after choking myself with the dildo.

When I returned to the kitchen on my hands and knees, I heard the family talking and laughing about me. I was red faced. I crawled in and stood up, dusted off my sore knees, and asked Teddy “May I stick my finger up my butt, please?”

“The kids have another question for you first,” Steve asked. “They saw your hang dog expression and are worried that you’ll think they are mean if they get to boss you around.

I was a little flustered, frustrated, and deeply humiliated. “I would never think that. I am worried that you think that I am a disgusting freak,” I answered.

“Well, you are kind of disgusting,” Cindy teased.

“You are definitely a freak,” Daniel had a smirk on his lips.

“We thought maybe you would be mad you had to play with yourself in front of us,” Teddy explained.

“I was frustrated that I didn’t get to finish, but as your father says I am a slut,” I admitted with a cherubic grin that was born of that ruined orgasm. “I’ve always been taught that sluts are dirty girls that play with themselves in front of others, and have sex with random strangers. I wouldn’t want to prove my mom a liar,” I joked. I still remember when my mom called my older sister a slut for sleeping around and she used those words.

“I am not sure what I am going to think, or what you are going to think. This is all new to me, but I am far from mad,” I said.

“Then stick your finger all the way up your butt,” Teddy’s deadpan enthusiasm was just the levity we all needed to break into a giggle. He added “but turn around, spread your cheeks with your other hand and let me watch you slide it in.”

“Are you sure?” I found myself saying as I turned around. It was a nasty habit that I was trying to break with their father. I was worried that he’d see my sphincter expand around my finger and be disgusted by how graphic that is.

“When you give your mother an instruction and she responds with are you sure, she is stalling,” Steve told them. “Tell me and I will punish her.”

“Sorry,” I said as I pushed my finger all the way up my ass. “It is a nasty habit. I just wasn’t sure that you would want to see my poo-hole open all the way up and be swallowed by my finger.”

“Just say asshole, mom,” Teddy chided me for using a more cleaned up word.

“Sorry,” I blushed and continued standing with one hand gripping my butt cheek to pull it apart.

“From now on, when I tell you to stick a finger in your butthole I want you to do it just like this, but wriggle your finger in and out a little.”

I was facing away, so he couldn’t see how much more red my face turned. I felt very ‘unsexy’ being as I was standing with my legs apart, my cheeks spread, my finger in my ass and facing away from my family while they giggled.

“Do you really enjoy doing this, Mom?” Daniel asked me after an awkward pause.

“I like doing what I am told,” I admitted.

“Yeah, but do you like sticking your finger in your butt? For real?”

This was a difficult question for me to answer. I thought about it and before my husband could punish me for clamming up, I admitted it was not an easy thing to answer. “I wouldn’t ordinarily choose to stand naked like this in the kitchen and shove a finger into my butt, if that is what is you are asking. It is kind of pleasurable and exciting to do what I am told even naughty things. I normally only do them for your father, but I think I like doing them for you. I really don’t know,” I admitted.

They accepted my response and Steve even seemed proud of me for finally being honest. I had admitted to him that I was simultaneously terrified and sexually turned on by streaking and doing dares. I didn’t tell that to the kids. My husband asked Daniel what he wanted me to do since it was his turn next.

“I can’t really think of anything to top that. I am supposed to mow the lawn today. She can’t do it in 15 minutes though, so what about that?”

Steve rubbed his chin and said that I would be doing ALL the household chores from now on. “However, I’d like at least one of you to volunteer to keep an eye on her while she is doing them. You can take turns. You can sit outside under the shade and drink a cold glass of lemonade and listen to your headphones.”

“What are we supposed to be watching her for, Dad?” Teddy was enthusiastic about being given a job.

“I want you to make sure your Mom stays focused on what she is doing. If any neighbors walk by, I want you to do the talking. If she misses a spot, or lollygags around I want you to tell me. You can also make sure she takes a break every now and then and drinks plenty of water. How is that?”

“Wow, yeah, really?” Teddy was overjoyed.

“I’ll make up a chores list, so you don’t have to waste your 15 minutes on telling your mom to mow the lawn. I’ve got that taken care of,” Steve told Daniel.

“Can I pick out her outfit to mow the yard?” Daniel asked.

“I think for now, We’ll have her wear the bikini in the front yard, and then wad it up and hold it in her mouth for the backyard. I’ll pick her clothes, but eventually I may let you guys do that.”

I felt my pussy get wet, despite how humiliating that would be - or perhaps because it would be humiliating. I was embarrassed most of all because my kids so readily accepted their father’s ideas and I didn’t protest. I should have - but I smiled and nodded like a dumb bimbo.

“This is pretty awesome,” Daniel mused. “I think I would like mom to play like a puppy for 15 minutes before mowing the lawn. Is that cool?”

It turns out that 15 minutes is the sweet spot for puppy play before it turns boring. Once I was finished showing my butt to the family, I barked, yipped, yelped, and sniffed around the kitchen like a puppy dog. I gave the kids big puppy dog ideas, and they patted me, and played with me while laughing. It was actually a lot of fun, but it was really hard on my knees.

I liked making them happy though. I would go on to spend the entire day with the kids performing tricks and silly games. They made me do silly walks, crawl, and even sing karaoke for them. All in the nude, of course.

I was surprised at first that Cindy got into it. Mowing the grass in the hot sun was not fun. I was sweaty and tired by the end, but they brought me water and made sure that I got a chance to rest. Cindy waited outside in a lawn chair and waved at me while recording my antics on the phone.

I could sometimes do a chore while obeying one of their orders at the same time. As an example, while putting away the dishes with one hand I masturbated with the other. Yes, I masturbated several times that afternoon, and it was always voluntary. They gave me the OPPORTUNITY to play with myself and I thanked them and went right to town.

They were very generous about it. Steve decided that there would be an ‘open door’ policy for me in the house. I was not to close any doors and be alone in any room. That included our bedroom. He didn’t want me sneaking up there to use the dildo. I asked if I could keep it downstairs but he thought it would be better if I had to crawl upstairs to get it to make it seem more special.

At lunch was the first time I had to eat like a dog. I dunked my face into a bowl of spaghetti and got really messy. It was not a pretty sight. Try eating spaghetti without the use of your hands! I even had to drink my water like a dog. The kids laughed and laughed at how silly I looked with my face covered in sauce as I let my tongue hang out like a dumb bimbo.

“Do I have to ask permission to use the bathroom, or can I just go?” I asked after I was done cleaning up.

“What do you think guys?” Steve asked the kids their opinion. “Will it be a hassle for you if you get to decide if your mom can have a potty break?”

“Does one of us have to go with her and make sure she doesn’t fall into the toilet?” Daniel joked. He wasn’t serious, obviously.

“No, you don’t have to go,” Steve said.

“But we could, if we wanted?” Teddy asked.

“You want to see mom go pee?” Cindy scrunched her nose in disgust. Teddy pretended that he didn’t.

“Your mom has no privacy in the house until bedtime. I do not want you guys being curious and snooping around our bedroom at night. If you want to spot check her to make sure she isn’t flicking her bean while she is sitting on the john, I am fine with it.

Teddy escorted me to the bathroom and stood there while I sat on the commode. I was so embarrassed. He didn’t stare directly at me, but he kept grinning. I tried not to fart very loudly.

“Teddy, I have to stand and wipe. I do not think you want to see that,” I said.

He was polite enough to look away, and I thanked him and flushed.

At dinner, I absent-mindedly reached down to my pussy and gave myself a few rubs. Cindy noticed right away and called me out. “Mom’s playing with it!!” she busted me. I blushed. Steve was going to let me off with a warning after the kids laughed at me for being horny.

I didn’t know why at the time but I admitted my mistake and asked for punishment. “Fair is fair, Cindy caught me playing with myself and if I am going to learn the rules, I should probably be punished. I am sorry everybody,” I hung my head in shame.

Cindy immediately seized the opportunity to suggest that I be spanked (presumably in front of them) because of what Marcie had said about a punishment out of love. “She needs to be taught a lesson for her own good, Dad!”

Steve wasn’t convinced that Cindy really meant that. It was FAR more likely she just wanted to see me get spanked. He took me upstairs and spanked my ass pretty hard. The kids knew what happened and saw my ass was rosy red. It wasn’t a very hard spanking, but it was slightly satisfying.

I didn’t touch my pussy without permission for the rest of the evening!! My butt smarted but after the redness faded it was like it didn’t even happen.

As shocking (and over the top) as it may have seemed for an adult in the house to be spanked for touching themselves, it didn’t seem to surprise anyone. Adding the new house rules on top of what we had done for weeks had made it seem logical that my husband would take me upstairs and give me a good ‘whooping’.

I was pleasantly surprised that after it was over, everyone kept carrying on pretty much as they had. Teddy wasn’t angry or confused with his dad for punishing me. The kids didn’t even mention it again that day.

The kids had me all day pretty much. I was basically their servant, doing chores, playing games, and masturbating myself. After dinner, I knelt in the living room while they watched TV. Instead of watching the program as they normally did, they ignored the show. They talked about all the crazy things I did and how funny it was. They teased each other a little, but none of it was bickering.

That evening after my nightly jog around the outside of the house, my husband brought me upstairs and fucked the shit out of me. I mean he pulled hair, slapped my ass, and fucked me silly. He must have enjoyed the day as much as I did.

After he was finished with me, I lay there exhausted on the bed.

“I didn’t really think out the masturbating thing,” he admitted. He apologized for springing the rule on me that they could give me permission to masturbate if I did well. “That was probably too far. I thought you’d decline their offer and thank them.”

“I freaked out the first time that I did it,” I admitted the very idea made my skin crawl at the time. “Once you made me do it once, I really enjoyed it. I just wish you gave me more than five minutes to get off.”

“Yeah, I knew you couldn’t have a genuine orgasm in five minutes. You are a slow boil,” he laughed that was by intention. “You really liked it though?”

“Did I look like I was faking enjoying it?” I grinned.

“Women can be very convincing,” Steve nodded with respect that I might have been acting.

“No, I enjoyed it. Please don’t tell them this was all my idea though, okay? I think it feels naughtier that I don’t have any choice.”

“I made very clear that this is entirely consensual on your part,” Steve clarified.

“I know. It’s hard to explain but now that I’ve consented to do whatever you tell me, I kind of don’t want to be given a choice to stop again. Okay? You kept giving me chances to quit, and I appreciate that, but can you stop?”

“Afraid that you’d be tempted to say yes if they push you too hard?” Steve smirked knowingly.

“No, I feel guilt that I do not want to say yes. I feel like a good mom wouldn’t behave like this around her kids, and that now that I know the rules I SHOULD take you up on your offer. It makes me feel for guilty for choosing to stick with it,” I admitted. I liked being teased and even humiliated. I just hated to admit it out loud.

Steve didn’t understand my point and I couldn’t fully explain myself. I needed to feel that I had to do what I was told. It was that simple but I couldn’t explain why. The fact that I could choose at any time to stop made me feel guilty for some reason.

“I am just afraid that the kids and I might be a little too strict on you. What if I gave you a chance every now and then to veto a rule or a few days off now and then?”

“That’s very sweet, Steve, but” I began. Steve seemed surprised that I had an objection. “I don’t want any days off. I don’t want two days of going back to boring Julie.”

“You won’t go back to boring Julie, but maybe you don’t have to crawl around and do all of the chores?”

“I would like you to be STRICTER,” I finally said it out loud. What I had wanted to say the first time we started playing the game. Steve was truly surprised by my strong reaction. I whispered so that the kids could not possibly hear me. “In bed, when you pulled my hair and choked me, and slapped my ass, I guess you do not have to do it ALL the time, but could you treat me more like Marcie when we are in the bedroom?”

“I was worried you would think I was treating you like a fuck doll and that I didn’t care about you,” Steve admitted. He was genuinely sensitive to it. He said it was easier to be rough with Marcie because he didn’t care about her. I understood that sentiment, and I wanted him to know that I kind of liked it.

“I know, and that’s why I love you. You care about me, but I think I really like it rough. Marcie said she was a pain slut once. I think maybe I am, but I am not sure. I just know that I like getting it rough.”

“Done,” Steve was more than happy to oblige. I was worried I might be wrecking the balance of our marriage with my request, but I was happy that he was. “Anything else?”

“Well, you said you wanted me to be your whore and fuck strangers, but we’ve only ever had sex with Marcie and Mike. Can you handle maybe making me be a whore? I wouldn’t want to do it alone on my own, and it’s not because I need more man than you...”

He held up his hand. I thought he was going to tell me that was too far. “Oh my god, I wish you told me this sooner. Yes, yes, yes. Are you thinking only couples or could I bring a solo guy into the bedroom?”

“Any cock, any pussy, any time,” I said. I felt so dirty for being that lascivious, but I was inspired by how lusty Marcie was and I was very horny.

“How many guys could you handle in one week?” he asked.

I had no idea. “I don’t know, maybe six or seven?”

“One a day?” he seemed shocked by my admission – had I estimated too low? Too high? I was so horny that I could fuck ALL day if possible.

“Is that not enough? I assume some of them would come together or on the same day,” I asked quite seriously.

Steve laid back on his bed and laughed. I felt silly and perverted.

“You are amazing, Julie. Yes, seven would be great, but just so that we are clear, I could arrange a gang bang of twenty guys, and you’d be down with it?”

“I don’t think we could have twenty guys in the house at once. The kids would definitely freak out,” I said.

“Wait, you’d let me set up a gang bang here?”

“I won’t LET you do anything, Steve. You make the decisions for me. I am just trying to be realistic that twenty would be a lot and I’d be a little worried some of the guys would try to hit on Cindy.”

“if we organized a gang bang here, the kids would probably figure it out. You know that right?”

“They know I am a slut, and they know that we fuck the Flynns. I know it’s not up to me, but I’d just ask that they not watch me do more than masturbate for visitors.”

I found it hard to believe I was saying that, but Steve liked it. “I thought you didn’t want any boundaries or limits?”

“No, I know there are boundaries and limits. You said the kids can’t make me walk naked down the street or masturbate in public. I trust you to set them, then I would like it if you value my opinion, but make the decision on what is best?”

“Oh wow,” Steve was pleased.

“I did have one more thing,” I said nervously. Steve seemed shocked that there could be more. I was worried that I was asking for too much. Yes, I liked how the kids took care of me today. They let me sit down in the shade and brought me water and cared about my comfort.”

Steve liked that too. It was proof that I was probably wrong about Teddy not being able to care for a real puppy. He kept a careful eye on me and made sure I was well taken care of.

“Could you guys tease me a little more, and be a little stricter even out of the bedroom?” I found it odd saying that out loud. It WAS what I wanted but I felt ashamed that I had to ask.

“How so?”

“I don’t mean slam my tits with a frying pan or something,” I grinned. I had a visual of what that might feel like and it made me smirk. “I liked all the rules and restrictions. It was hard to keep track of them all, but maybe you could just set a tone that they don’t have to worry about teasing me?”

I was nervous bringing this up. I did NOT want to involve my kids in my kinky games, but now that they were – I thought we might as well do it right. There were times today where I felt like they were afraid I’d break down and cry or that I was made of porcelain.

“I could have been made to squat and sit on a pinecone instead of being allowed to sit on a chair when I was outside mowing the grass. I even pointed out to Cindy that I would get the seat wet with pussy juice, and she said it was a lawn chair and didn’t matter because it was gross anyway. You could say that if they let me sit on it I have to lick it clean after.”

I blushed. Steve told me to continue.

“I was allowed to wash my dildo in the sink and wash my hands after I play with myself. What if I could only clean them with my filthy mouth?”

He nodded. Was I getting myself in too deep? Asking for too much before I knew the consequences?

“If I do what you are asking, I do not want you to bellyache later,” he assured me. I told him that I’d felt the kids were afraid of offending me and I wanted them to relax and have fun with it.

“I don’t want you to force them to be mean to me. That isn’t what I am asking at all. I think if you set the example that I can be teased ... and...”

“Humiliated?” he finished the sentence. That was the word that I wanted to say, but I couldn’t because I didn’t understand why that turned me on.

“I don’t know why it turns me on,” I admitted shamefully.

“You were raised in a strict catholic household by a marine and a mom who wanted everything done properly. You probably were repressed and shamed about being a slut. You like the taboo of doing risky things like streaking where you might get caught because it gives you an adrenaline rush. There is nothing wrong with that. I get a rush just watching you do it,” he smiled as if he understood me fully.

He didn’t though.

“I kind of want to get caught sometimes,” I admitted. “I kind of want to be punished when I am. I didn’t intend to touch myself today. I tried to follow the rules, and I don’t want to be bad on purpose. I don’t really know what I am asking.”

I couldn’t put into words why I got off on it.

“Hey, I could let the kids punish you if you really want,” he joked.

“I think Cindy would love to punish me,” I admitted what we both already knew. “You could probably let her choose a punishment for me like putting soap in my mouth if I forget to ask permission to use the bathroom or something?” I offered. My mom used to love making me eat a bar of soap, and she’d make me stand out at the dining room table to be roasted by my brothers. That may be where some of the same feelings were coming from now.

“What if she tells you to put a bar of soap in your mouth just as an instruction?” he asked.

That was a great question and one I hadn’t considered. “What if they tell me to bend over and decide to spank my butt?” I asked.

“I’d put a stop to it,” Steve assured me. It was obvious to us both that we had been ambiguous about letting them give me instructions. As it stood, they could order me to do things that constituted a punishment. It was a matter of time before they figured it out. It made sense to me that we’d distinguish that some orders were only when I misbehaved.

My husband was still on the fence about letting the kids administer a punishment.

“I guess what I would say is that maybe you should go over some fitting punishments we can do in the common areas of the house when I misbehave and say that those should only be done when I mess up, or they start to lose their effectiveness?” I asked politely.

“Good idea, but you really don’t misbehave very often,” he observed.

“What if you said that three times a day, I have to be punished in the common areas as an attitude adjustment? Do you remember how Marcie said that after she gets punished she is a whole new person and has a polite attitude? You could say that the punishment is for my own good and not because I did anything wrong.”

“You would go that far?” my husband was shocked.

My heart was racing the same way it did when I ran down my street completely naked. ‘It doesn’t have to be anything extreme, maybe make me stand in the corner with my dildo in my mouth, or make me step in place while repeating that I’ll be a good slut over and over?”

“Would you be okay if I spanked you in front of them?”

“Just on the butt, or on my cunt and tits too?” I asked.

“Just on the butt,” he said.

“Oh yeah, everyone knew what you were doing, and they saw how my ass looked after. I would just say not across my cunt because I think Teddy would feel bad if you made me cry.”

“Wow,” he said. “I might have to buy a paddle, because I’ll wear my hand out.”

“I think Cindy would really like it, and she’d probably be more inclined to accept what I am doing if she has fun. If you want to let her give me mild punishments when she is watching me mow the grass or perform chores that would be fine. I was surprised today when she supervised me, and I think she wanted to have some real authority.”

I admitted that I didn’t know if Daniel or Teddy would like to be able to do that, but he could offer it to them as well and if they wanted then they could.

“What if they want to SPANK you? Would you be fine with that too?”

I laughed at the thought of Teddy’s tiny hand trying to put any sort of mark on my butt. Daniel is very strong though. “I think if they want to do that, you should show them how first, and maybe get a paddle because you have a tendency to grope my pussy when you spank me. If Teddy spanked me, I’d have to make sure to thank him and tell him it was for my own good, but it would be hard because I think I’d giggle a little.”

“Yeah, he is a strange kid. He likes having authority over you because it makes him feel mature, and he likes treating you like a pet. He doesn’t want you to feel pain, though. I doubt he’d ever spank you.”

“There is one thing I think he wants to do, and I am almost afraid to say it,” I said.

“After telling me you want us to be really strict on you and punish you, I doubt you could shock me.”

“Today Teddy was the only one to volunteer to take me to the bathroom,” I admitted. It was humiliating to admit that I had to be supervised, but I accepted that I had to ask permission. Those were the rules and I was determined to follow them. It had felt like a game when I began things, but now the gravity of it all had hit me. It made sense to me that I had to ask someone for permission.

I think my family felt that way today as well. Teddy had been the only one actually willing to supervise me with the door open while I did my business though.

That wasn’t lost on Steve. He noticed as well. I told him how I suggested that Teddy look away so I could wipe my pussy and ass with toilet paper, but it seemed he really wanted to watch. He was just too embarrassed.

“I could make him take you in the backyard as a puppy and cock your leg like a Labrador retriever,” Steve teased.

“Do you think you could ASK him if he wants to walk me outside? I am not sure he wants to actually watch me do that, and I don’t mind. I just couldn’t be the one to suggest it to him.”

“Oh, he is fascinated with your butt. I think he wants to use a flashlight to see what is inside your asshole if he could. Once we do this, there is no going back to normal around the house.”

“If the kids don’t want any part of it, I would be willing to stop,” I said. My husband kissed me passionately. I guess he liked how committed to this I seemed. I didn’t see changing course now.

“I don’t know if this is what Marcie does around her house, or if we are going off the deep end. Maybe we should wait for her to come over and talk to her about it?”

“How Marcie handles things has no relevance,” Steve insisted.

“She may have encountered problems before that we haven’t anticipated. I am asking you for a lot,” I countered.

“You can ASK, but you do what I tell you, right?”

“Yes,” I replied breathlessly.

“Then I’ve decided that tomorrow you will serve breakfast with a peeled banana as far down your throat as you can push it. I’ll explain your punishment routine and then let you ask permission to eat the banana from the kids and me. Do you have a problem with that?” Steve’s eyes told me that he was certain of his new rules.

I went to sleep feeling so conflicted. Had I jumped off a high cliff into total chaos? Had I made a mistake agreeing to all of this? Was I considering what was best for everyone or just for me? Was it possible to ‘live a fantasy’?

I awoke early and began to suck my husband’s cock before his alarm went off. He grabbed my hair and forced me down on his dick until I nearly puked. He told me that he wanted the banana at least that far down my throat. “Be a good little slut, crawl downstairs, and make us breakfast. I’ll decide what you eat after you finish serving us.”

I normally ate what everybody else did.

He smacked my butt as I stood up and stretched. “Get ready, whore,” he smiled as I got down on all fours and crawled out of my bedroom and made my way to the kitchen. I stood up and peeled a banana. I forced it down my throat and nearly gagged. I took it out and tried it again a few times until I had only a few inches sticking out of my mouth. I kept feeling like I may throw up while I made my family breakfast.

Daniel was the first one downstairs. He laughed when he saw me with the banana in my mouth. “Orders from Dad?” he chuckled.

I nodded and blushed.

“You should put an egg between your tits and crack it by squeezing them together,” he joked. I knew he was not serious from his tone. I did it anyway. I took a brown egg from the carton and placed it between my cleavage. I looked at him and pushed my tits together with my hands.

“Oh my god, I wasn’t serious,” Daniel was delirious with laughter as the eggy goo dripped down my tits. The shell hit the floor.

I mumbled a request to pick it up and clean myself up. There was no way he could understand me with the banana so far down my throat. “Yeah, you can pick up the egg shell,” he saw where I pointed. He either didn’t care to let me wash the egg yoke off of my tits or he didn’t understand I was also asking to clean my tits. I left the messy goo on my tits and went back to cooking after I cleaned up the egg shell.

Teddy and my husband entered the kitchen next. “Making a mess already, slut?” Steve said of the egg on my chest and the banana in my throat. Teddy was surprised but slightly amused by the use of food on my body. “Should I punish you for that?”

“I told Mom that she should put an egg between her tits and crack it with them, but I was obviously joking and she did it anyway,” Daniel intervened on my behalf.

“You have to be very careful when teasing your mom. You can call her a name or make fun of her big butt,” he smacked my butt. “She’s going to take your instructions seriously, and she knows that she will be punished if she is reluctant.”

“That looks pretty funny,” Teddy watched the gooey yellow yolk drip down my tits and laughed.

“She’s making a titty omelet,” Daniel grinned.

“You can pick something for your mom to wear during breakfast as well, as long as it’s food, Teddy,” Steve said.

Teddy was pleasantly amused but didn’t believe his dad was serious. Steve told our son that I’d be eating whatever he made me wear today for breakfast.

“Unwrap a snicker’s bar and stick it up your butt,” Teddy expelled air out of his chipmunk cheeks in a bodacious laugh as he suggested the most outrageous thing his little mind could come up with.

I didn’t ask if he was serious. As sausage was cooking on the stove, I stepped over to the pantry and opened it. I took out a full-size Snicker bar from the candy bin we had of leftover Halloween candies. Unwrapped it, sniffed it, and pulled my cheeks apart with my hands. I let him watch as I pushed that Snickers bar into my ass.

It started to melt right away.

“It looks like poopy!” Teddy laughed, and laughed. He laughed so hard that he nearly spit up.

I blushed while the boys made farting noises and pretended that I had a turd hanging from my butt. Daniel joked “Now, THAT is what I call a fun-sized Snicker bar!”

I had to endure the boy’s laughter - it was deeply mortifying and yet it was turning me on, and that realization embarrassed me even more.

“Oh, what in the fresh hell is this?” Cindy groggily staggered into the kitchen. She was never much of a morning person. She was wearing her sweats, and a t-shirt that read “I shaved my nuts for this?”

It was a gag gift that her brother had bought her for her birthday. She secretly loved that shirt’s caption.

“We went easy on your mom yesterday because it was her first day, but today she knows she has to do better. Everyone is picking something for her to wear while she makes breakfast. She can eat it when she is done making our food. I chose a banana down the throat, Daniel chose eggs on tits, Teddy chose a Snickers bar in her tail pipe.”

“This is absolutely...” Cindy sounded like she had reached a point where she was truly disgusted “ ... AWESOME!!” she grinned as she changed her tone. “Okay, well you didn’t leave me many body parts left. I guess put a raw hot dog in your pussy and try to use one hand to hump yourself with it while you finish preparing the breakfast.”

I didn’t argue or balk at the suggestion. I opened the fridge, took out a raw hot dog. I slipped it in my pussy and let the kids watch me grip it with my pussy as I moved it in and out. I kept an eye on the stove while I put on my little show.

“How are you moving the lips on your pussy?” Teddy asked. I couldn’t answer. Spit was dribbling down my chin.

“She can flex her little flappers,” Cindy demonstrated by tenting her fingers like my pussy lips. I managed to serve the four of them with one hand and fuck myself with the hot dog with the other. I had to be gentle, or else I would have torn the hot dog to shreds.

“Technically, she should only get five minutes of masturbation time, but I’ll allow her to keep doing it while she makes breakfast as long as she doesn’t take TOO long,” Steve said.

Once I got them served, I was told to spit out the banana, take out the hot dog, snickers and let the egg drip off of my tits into the blender. I had to mix them all together and lap them up like a dog. At the same time, Steve went over my new expectations.

“Your mom thought we were too EASY on her yesterday,” Steve made it sound like I bragged that I could handle anything that was thrown my way. I had done that, but I wanted it to seem like this was all Steve’s idea. The kids weren’t sure if he was serious. My husband kicked my butt cheek under the table and asked me to tell them.

“I enjoyed yesterday, but I just thought maybe you guys were holding back because you were afraid I’d break or cry, and I didn’t know if you truly enjoyed it or were just humoring me.”

All the kids said that they had fun, and seemed more confident that they could tease me when their dad did. The gruelish mixture of banana, chocolate, hot dog and egg was pretty disgusting, but I lapped it up like a silly bimbo.

“Your mom also thought she needed a little more motivation. I have decided that three times a day, she’ll be punished. We’ll probably do it around meal times. Your mom isn’t misbehaving, but the punishment should keep her attitude in check.”

I reached behind myself and licked the left over chocolate between my butt crack. I didn’t realize the implication that it looked like poop. My kids giggled.

“Marcie said that sometimes she needs an attitude adjustment to reset her bitch button when she knows she is getting uppity. There were times yesterday I felt like telling you guys what you should do, and I asked your father to adjust my attitude whether I did anything wrong or not to see if that will keep me motivated to behave myself. I hope you don’t mind?”

“Are you asking if we mind if you get punished for no reason at all?” Cindy asked in surprise. She was intrigued but skeptical of the new rules.

“Not, no reason. The reason is to make your mom a little more compliant and placid, and I am hoping also to use it as a learning opportunity. You can tell your mom to do just about anything, but if you tell her to bend over and spank her then it won’t mean much when you need to punish her?”

“We get to spank mom?” Daniel asked. He sounded amused as well, but also skeptical.

“If she misbehaves there are some punishments, I’ll show you, and you can apply a little correction. Nothing elaborate, you can put her in the corner or wash her mouth out with soap,” Steve said it like it was no big deal. The kids were excited by that revelation. I was glad because the alternative scenario would be that they felt Steve was being too hard on me.

“You can make your mom do anything you see me make her do around the house from now on. The only thing that I ask is that you only punish her when she actually did something wrong.”

“You are going to trust me to make mom eat a bar of soap?” Cindy found that hard to believe.

“If you abuse my trust, it’s very hard to get back. Remember Mike said that punishment is an act of love when you apply it for the right reasons,” Steve said.

“If I talk out of turn, or forget to ask permission, then I would be grateful if one of you would make me wash my mouth out with soap. I don’t think I could actually EAT a whole bar of soap,” I added.

“That’s just a figure of speech,” Cindy said. “If you’ll really do this, it would be my sincere pleasure to serve you up a bar of soap. I hope you are ready for this, Mom.”

I cringed a little when my kids called me Mom. I used to cringe when they called me slut the way that their father did. The word ‘mom’ jarred me back to reality and reminded me that I probably shouldn’t be so enthusiastic about my own humiliation.

“I’m more concerned about your feelings,” I admitted truthfully.

Their father talked about possible punishments to start out with in the morning with the kids. “They can be humiliating without pain, and be just as effective at teaching a lesson on pride and disobedience.”

He used the example of standing me in the corner. It was obvious he wanted to start out light. All three of them suggested spanking, and after I cleared breakfast that was exactly what I received. Steve directed me to lay across his lap as he sat at the kitchen table. He demonstrated how to spank with his hand cupped on my ass and spanked my butt cheeks nice and hard.

“We can make mom do that?” Cindy laughed as my ass jiggled.

“We realized that yesterday we opened the door to you telling your mom what to do. If you had told her to lay across your lap and let you spank her butt then she would have. However, it would diminish any future punishments because it would happen for no reason. If I am going to trust you order your mom around, I am going to trust you with a limited amount of enforcement power.”

“Can we order mom to lay across our lap if we aren’t spanking her bottom?” Teddy asked politely. “Even though she didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Mom’s weight would crush you, Scro’,” Daniel teased his little brother. He was probably right. I am not a big woman but my youngest son is pretty scrawny.

“There are other spanking positions,” Steve stopped spanking me and had me stand up and grab my ankles to demonstrate. “You can put your mom in any position around the house. That isn’t a punishment. The moment you lay hands on her with your hand or a paddle then you are punishing her.”

“What about if we get a riding crop?” Cindy joked and made a funny lash sound with her mouth as she pantomimed it.

“Hand me that spatula,” he asked. Cindy gave him a metal spatula, and he spanked my butt with that. “You can use anything. A back scratcher, fly swatter, a book, just understand the goal is not to break the skin or bones. If you leave a little bruise that’s fine. Your mom has a couple of those already,” he said while pointing out the orange-brownish splotches from past spankings.

“Sheesh, you aren’t hitting very hard,” Cindy commented on how my husband was only lightly spanking me. It was not very satisfying but I understood he didn’t want to scare them off with a belt-cracking display of pain.

“Then you bend over and let Dad try it on you,” Daniel teased his sister.

“You wish,” she blew the blonde hair out of her face with a laugh.

“After she finishes, make her stand in front of you and tell you what she did wrong and apologize,” Steve explained. He had me stand with my knees deeply bent, my ass stuck out, my arms behind my head with my fingers interlocked and my tits sticking up.

I didn’t know what to say since I had done nothing wrong. I went with the first thing that crossed my mind. “Thank you for punishing me in front of the kids, Steve. I

“Cool, stand like that while you work,” Cindy instructed. It was getting REALLY close to time for me to login to my computer and begin my day. “No wait, here hover over this saucer,” she set a small plate on my office chair.

“Glide back and forth like you are riding a slimy snail and let your mouth hang open,” she said. I was permitted to use my keyboard but I had to straddle my chair and rest my clit hood on a saucer while sticking my butt out and bending my knees.

It was excruciating after 10 minutes of trying to glide my pussy across the saucer. It was soaked in my slippery pussy juices. The kids were astonished that I’d go along with it without complaint. I smiled and obediently accommodated them.

I am lucky because the job that I do is not meeting heavy, and I have a lot of discretion in how I use my time. As long as I get my reports completed, nobody at the office really cares how I structure my day.

At home was another story. Once my 15 minutes in that position was up, my daughter wanted me to lap up the pussy juices on the saucer like it was kitten milk.

“No way, you had a turn, Sis,” Daniel insisted. I was flattered that my kids were actually fighting over me like a valued toy. Other than Teddy, they seldom wanted to spend time with me. Daniel’s order wasn’t mean or sadistic either.

“Mom, you had a tough morning. You can have five minutes to pleasure yourself at your desk.”

“Thank you Daniel, but you guys weren’t very tough on me at all,” I admitted. Despite it all, I felt I could handle quite a bit more teasing. “Can I get my dildo?”

“No, fingers only but get rid of the chair. I don’t want you to get your slime in it,” Daniel took what I said as a direct challenge. I had intended to make him feel like he shouldn’t feel guilty for teasing me, but he took it wrong (I think).

I pushed away the chair and began to finger fuck myself while he watched. “Do you have school work to do?” I asked as I touched myself. The question was instinctive and not intended to be passive-aggressive. It came off that way because I couldn’t change my ‘mom’ programming overnight. I had intended to be helpful.

“Dad, is it punishable if Mom tells me that I should be studying?”

“She doesn’t have authority over you, but I do. Punish your mother and then get your school work done. You can play with her later.”

“Stop playing with your pussy, and Finger fuck your asshole,” Daniel sounded upset with me. I changed holes and apologized.

“It’s hard for me to just change my personality in a day, Daniel. That’s why I am going to get punished three times a day, to make me a little more used to how I am supposed to behave,” I pleaded. He told me that shouldn’t mean he can’t punish me now.

“It doesn’t, but this feels like a treat. If you want to punish my butthole, I guess maybe make me stick something a lot bigger up my ass?” I couldn’t believe that I was suggesting to my son that he punish me harder.

“Fine, get your whole hand in there,” he insisted.

I had no idea what fisting was and had no idea whether I could stick four fingers and my thumb into my butt. “Can I suck my fist first?”

“Nope, to the wrist! Let’s see you do it,” he insisted.

I’ve been getting plowed in the backdoor nightly and playing with my butt quite a bit. I wasn’t surprised that I could work first two and then three fingers into my butt rather easily. The fourth and the thumb took effort. I felt like I was stretching myself out.

My husband watched from his deck. He had his headphones on. He was clearly in a Zoom meeting, but he was mesmerized. Once I got all of my digits past the rim of my anus, it was fairly easy to push my fist into my butt to the wrist.

I quite liked it. My pussy was dripping like a leaky faucet and as I pushed forward I could feel the insides of my cunt expand and shift as two compartments within my body that shared a single wall of muscle between them.

“Oh my god, you can fist your asshole. Teddy is going to love this,” he said.

Teddy was up in his room, dutifully attending virtual school. I blushed and continued to fuck my own butt with my hand until Daniel told me that I could stop. It felt like longer than 15 minutes.

When he was gone I sniffed my hand and washed it in the sink before realizing that I had said that I would lick them clean. I told my husband that I fucked up and asked to be punished.

“Oh no, you are just looking for a reason to get out of working. You can tell the kids what you did during lunch and add that to the reasons you are being punished then.”

I punished myself by standing instead of sitting at the office chair. I didn’t stick my ass out or sit on a saucer. I also didn’t wash the saucer since I knew my daughter had wanted me to lap it up.

It was hard to keep my mind on my job. I was so excited about this new adventure. I had expected perhaps that my kids would reject the idea completely and tell me to go back to being the boring Mom that they knew. They had been surprisingly understanding and perhaps because we had been doing this gradually for a few weeks none of them seemed to question the need for me to be punished for misbehaving.

Why DID I need to be more compliant and well behaved? I wasn’t a smart-ass like Marcie or Cindy.

I just wanted to be punished, if the truth was to be told. I needed some reason, but I was also not perfect. I had absent-mindedly asked my son if he had school work to do and implied he should be doing that instead. I had also washed my hand instead of licking it clean which was a self-imposed rule that I had JUST created.

I was beginning to feel like the punishments might actually help me keep track of the new rules and reinforce them.

The kids didn’t have to be told to come to lunch. This time I was told to shove a hot dog down my throat, put an apple in my pussy and cover my asshole with a slice of Kraft American cheese. Teddy was the one who thought I should put cheese on my butthole. He wanted me to ‘fart’ and cut the cheese.

“I can’t fart right now, Teddy,” I chuckled my reply sweetly. I blushed a little as well. I didn’t like to fart in front of my family. I had accidentally a few times lately while sticking things in my butt and had been mortified. No one said anything about it at the time.

“Sure you can; when you start putting things up your butt, it starts to hang open and then you make a little burpy sound. Try it,” Teddy said.

“Gross, nobody wants to smell mom’s cum-farts at the table,” Cindy spoke up. Daniel agreed and Teddy was overruled.

Steve tried to console Teddy. “You are the only one brave enough to take your mom to the bathroom, son.”

Teddy beamed with pride and said he didn’t mind. “I like watching her brush her teeth, and paint her nails and stuff too. It’s like I shouldn’t be in there, and I get to see what women have to do to look pretty.”

“You can watch your mom anytime, unless she is with me or someone else up in the bedroom,” he said.

“Mom can bring guys up to the bedroom?” Cindy seemed to think she had figured out my motivation. “So she agreed to all of this as an excuse to bang other dudes?”

“First of all, your mom can only bring other people to the bedroom if I give her permission. You guys can’t order her to have sex with anyone else. Why do you think I call her slut or whore? I am going to start making arrangements for men to come by, and you should understand that I don’t want you to make them feel weird. In fact, I’d prefer you say nothing to them at all,” Steve made that perfectly clear.

“Secondly, your mom agreed to do what I tell her because it is what she wanted to do. She consented to the rules, and now that is how things are. We love each other deeply, and it doesn’t matter if she shares her body with a stranger as long as it is because I told her I wanted her to do that. Does that clear that up?”

Cindy understood but being the smart-ass that she was, she was not content to leave it alone. “She can’t be a whore if she just gives it a way and doesn’t charge money.”

“I am willing to let you guys tease and order your mom around because that’s her new role, but I am not going to involve you in our sex lives,” Steve made it clear that the topic was off-limits.

I had the hot dog down my throat at this point, and was preparing the food so I couldn’t add on to it but I wouldn’t contradict my husband. I agreed with his sentiment, and I was glad that was a line.

Lunch was pretty much as breakfast, except that I performed jumping jacks while they talked about punishing me. Steve made me explain that I had washed my hand after I fisted myself.

Once I explained that I fisted myself, that led to me demonstrating on my ass again. As expected, this was Teddy’s new favorite thing.

“That’s a punishment though?” my son sounded disappointed that there wasn’t more involved.

In truth, after the second time I did it, I wasn’t so sure it was a punishment. It was embarrassing but I enjoyed it. Cindy told me to fist my pussy, and I did that too. That was quite a bit easier.

“Can you touch fingers between the walls of your anus and cunt?” she snickered.

“Yes, I think so,” I admitted.

After I withdrew my hands, my anus felt like a balloon that was held open. My ass released an obnoxiously disgusting farting noise, and that pleased Teddy. My cunt felt amazing as if I was close to orgasm when I withdrew my hand.

“Tell them why you have to clean your toys or hands with your mouth, whore?” Steve called me a whore to prove a point.

I really wasn’t sure why we made the rule other than it humiliated me, and I seemed to enjoy being made to do really naughty things. “I have to clean my own juices off of my hands because whores lick up dirty messes that they make. I will still use soap when I am permitted but I am a dirty girl, and I have to behave like a dirty slut.”

Everyone accepted my response as if it made perfect sense.

I thought that recent demonstration was my lunch punishment. However, Steve hadn’t given me that yet. He asked the kids to come up with ones for me. He wanted to teach them what was just a general instruction as opposed to a punishment. I think he was still searching for where the line was between those two things as well.

“Tickle monster,” Teddy declared. He nearly tackled me and held me down as he tickled me with his little hands. He avoided my pussy and butt, but he mauled my tits. He focused mostly on my ribs. I am extremely ticklish, and I was hysterical with laughter. I begged him to stop and laughed so hard, but he kept on. Daniel and Cindy joined in, and even Steve picked up my feet and tickled the bottom.

“Please I am going to pee!” I begged. They didn’t stop tickle-torturing me until a little piss splashed on my thighs. I was surprised that no one made me ‘lap that up’ after I had just made the case that was what dirty girls (sluts) did.

My face was red as my shame deepened, and my pulse was racing as I stood up. I reached down to my thighs and began to use my fingers to bring my juices to lips. I felt ridiculous but I had to obey the rules - that was the deal. How could my kids NOT ridicule me for my wanton behavior?

“Gross, Mom,” Cindy said. She didn’t tell me to stop, though. I wondered if I had gone too far.

I found it difficult that afternoon to determine when I should ask permission to do something, and when I should just do it. I didn’t want them to feel that they had to micromanage me. That was a good example. It would have felt more intense if I had been told I had to clean my thighs with my fingers. I didn’t do a very good job either, and I was sticky there all the time.

I asked permission generally when in doubt. Even if it was to bring them something. “Can I get you another glass of water?” and even offering myself when there was quiet, “Would you like me to do anything?”

Usually, the kids had me dance or bark like a dog for 15 minutes.

“Can I use the bathroom?” I asked my husband after work.

“Crawl up to Teddy’s bathroom and tell him that I want him to come downstairs with you, act like a puppy for the rest of the time.”

I yipped and dutifully went upstairs to get my son. I had been getting into the ‘puppy play’, scratching, panting, letting my tongue hang out crawling. My knees were sore, but it was all in fun.

Teddy was more than happy to follow me downstairs. I knew he was looking at my butthole. I wanted to ask if he would ever get tired of staring, but I couldn’t talk. There was a bathroom upstairs so I hadn’t connected what my husband was going to do to my request to use the restroom.

“I have a job for you if you are up to it,” Steve said. Teddy straightened his shoulders and volunteered without knowing what it was. “Well, hold on because I am not sure you’ll like it. The slut needs to use the bathroom, but I want her to remain in puppy form for the next hour. Can you take her out to the backyard while she does her business?”

My asshole puckered reflexively when Steve suggested it. I think Teddy was shocked by the thought that puppy play could even be performed in the backyard.

We have a privacy fence, but it isn’t perfect, and we have neighbors on all sides. It was broad daylight as work was just now over. I generally didn’t crawl around in the nude in the backyard during the day.

“C’mon puppy-slut,” Teddy patted his thighs and called me to the door. I yipped and followed him. I wasn’t sure if Steve understood that I had to poop as well.

Teddy marched me over to a tree near some bushes in the center of the yard. I was outside in the sun naked crawling like a dog. I had no idea if any neighbors were peeping. I couldn’t talk because I was in puppy mode.

I sniffed some flowers and made it clear that I was planning on peeing on them. My son had observed me in the bathroom while seated on the toilet, but he always turned his head when I wiped. He didn’t turn away.

I squatted my ass over the flowers, spread my legs, and peed a little. I looked up at him pleadingly. I angled my pussy away so that he wouldn’t see my yellow stream. It was embarrassing, but also I was afraid this was simply too much information for him – even though he seemed fascinated with my bodily functions.

“Is that all, slut?”

I shook my head no. As a dog, I guess I am pretty smart to understand human language and be able to respond by shaking my head. I peed a lot more, and I was positive he could see or at least hear my stream.

“Okay, go poop!” Teddy said.

I pleaded with him with my eyes but didn’t want to make him feel guilty for watching. I not only farted twice but I left a pinecone shaped turd on the lawn. The angle that I was squatting in may have hidden my slit but it only gave him a perfect view of my backdoor opening and closing around the turdball. I shook my butt to make sure it all fell out.

“Any more?” Teddy asked patiently. I shook my head no.

“C’mon then, you can run around the backyard,” he told me.

My ass was wet and I needed toilet paper. I couldn’t think of any other plan, so I scooted my butt across the coarse grass and played in the yard.

Teddy acted like it was no big deal at all when he came back in. “The slut pooped and peed,” he announced to my family. Cindy and Daniel had just joined their father.

“The slut actually pooped outside?” Steve seemed impressed with me. I was secretly flattered that my husband thought it was courageous. I really had to go, and my son had insisted. I felt like I had no choice, and he seemed to want to watch.

“Gross, I am NOT walking her or picking that up,” Cindy shuddered. She looked down at me like I was the most disgusting thing on the earth (which I felt like I was).

“I don’t mind. I’ll get a plastic bag and pick it up,” Teddy offered stoically. I couldn’t believe my bodily waste disposal was somebody else’s chore - it could not have been more humiliating. “I walk my friend Albert’s dog all the time when I am at his house. It’s no big deal!”

“No, your mom will pick it up after her hour as a puppy is over.”

“Can I walk her like that again?” Teddy asked.

After that, my son walked me about half the time in the backyard to poop and pee whether I asked permission to use the bathroom or not. I was pretty sure at least one neighbor had seen me, but what could they even say about it?

“You were naked in your own backyard?”

Later that day, there was someone at the door. “Open the door and see who it is, slut,” Steve insisted.

“May I put on clothes?” I asked.

“Nope, I would have told you if I wanted you in clothes,” he said.

I was hoping he wouldn’t teach the kids that I could/should open the door for strangers in the nude. I would have left the door closed and asked who it was, but my husband had explicitly told me to open the door and see who it was.

“Did she poop?”

“Hi,” it was Eddie Davidson. I didn’t like him very much. He worked with my husband and hit on me at a an office Christmas party a few years ago before the pandemic. He was wearing a Covid mask and smelled like he hadn’t changed clothes in a few days. He was in his late fifties and wearing a black t-shirt and some baggy jeans. Dandruff flakes coated his shoulders.

“Uh sorry, no mask,” I shut the door slightly so that he couldn’t see much of me.

“That’s okay, your husband said you’d be naked,” he replied.

I knew that my husband had arranged this. When I said that I was open to having sex with total strangers it hadn’t occurred to me that might also include rude, annoying twits from my husband’s office.

I let him in. “It’s only fair. I can see you naked. You’ve seen me naked,” he joked as he entered my home for the first time ever. I hadn’t actually seen him naked. He sent me a bunch of dick picks during the party on Facebook even though we weren’t friends. “Your husband said that you were open to having sex with me?”

Eddie got right to the reason for his visit. I was so nervous and I wasn’t sure if my husband understood the implications of letting someone like Eddie in on our new lifestyle. He might tell all of the guys that work with my husband.

“That’s up to him,” I replied brusquely. I had been light-hearted, patient, and even encouraging during the day around my family. I was back to being reluctant and deeply embarrassed. I didn’t want to give Eddie the satisfaction of knowing that I had said “any cock, anytime” the night before.

It wasn’t that he was particularly ugly. Eddie was just annoying and a little creepy. He stared at my daughter from across the living room. I brought him over to the kitchen. I didn’t want to introduce him to my kids but I felt that Steve had a plan.

“This is Eddie Davidson. He works with me,” Steve introduced him. “You can take my wife upstairs, but I am going to need you to throw me twenty bucks.”

“What for?” Eddie asked.

“My wife is technically not a whore but she’d like to be. In order for that to happen, she has to fuck for money. Twenty bucks,” Steve said. The kids were shocked and half-smirking. I felt like I was on an auction block, or more appropriately a discount rack for only twenty dollars.

Eddie pulled out his wallet, a condom, and some random junk. He managed to piece together a wadded up five dollar bill and three singles.

“That will have to do,” Steve said. “You can owe me the twelve.”

Eddie took my hand and led me upstairs. I was self-conscious about having sex in my own bed. It’s not worth noting how well Eddie fucked me. He fucked the gap in my thigh for a few minutes before realizing it wasn’t my vagina and came. I didn’t correct him. I lapped up his cum when he finished using my finger. That was because I wanted to stay in the room and not have to walk him downstairs.

When I got back downstairs, I was officially a whore. The family knew it and there was no going back.

I think from then on I embraced the role even more heavily. That evening I intentionally wedgied the tiny bathing suit in my ass crack while I did my late night jog around the neighborhood. There were several gentlemen who made it a point to find reasons to be outside around that time that watched my tits bouncing night after night.

Even Cindy rode bikes with her brothers and joined in on teasing me. I think that was one of the things I enjoyed the most about it all was that my family had come together. It wasn’t exactly the most wholesome thing teasing me, but they weren’t glued to their cell phones, and that was at least something.

Cindy didn’t seem as embarrassed of being with me in public either.

Most days for the next week followed the same general flow of the last day in the life. Every day my husband invited over some one for me to fuck. I often knew the guy and he thought I lost my marbles. There were several that were strangers. Some fucked well, but most didn’t. It made me appreciate Mike and Steve a lot more.

There were a few really interesting moments with my kids that stand out in my mind. Early in the week, my husband wanted me to drive to the pet store and pick up some “puppy play” supplies. Teddy was the first to volunteer to escort me.

My husband made me hand over my credit card to him. It was ceremonial really. Teddy wasn’t going to go book a trip to Vegas or anything with it (even though Cindy jokingly suggested that he do that).

My husband chose a suitably slutty two piece outfit for me. It wasn’t anything particularly trashy, but it was definitely less conservative than anything I would ever choose. My husband made me throw away all my ‘mom jeans’ (baggy stone washed jeans) and polo shirts that day. It kind of broke my heart but it was symbolic that I was becoming a slut.

The trip to the pet store was also kind of cathartic for me. I drove but Teddy sat up front in the passenger seat. He usually rode in the back even when it was just him and me.

“Okay Mom, let ME do the talking and I pick everything out,” he said.

“Sure,” I smiled at him.

We entered one of those big chain pet stores. The kind that looks like a warehouse with rows and rows of dog food, cat litter, gerbils, fish, you name it. The store was busy but not packed. There were a lot of pet owners that brought their dogs with them while they shopped.

Teddy took me to pick out a collar. He wanted me to try on a purple one that matched the dildo I have at home.

I was mortified. It wasn’t that I had much of a reputation to worry about. I didn’t think anyone “knew” me in the store. I just didn’t want to cause a spectacle or a scene. “I am sure that it is one size fits all, Teddy.”

“Refusing to obey? That’s a punishment, mom,” Teddy didn’t keep his voice down.

“True, when we get home, you can tell your father. I am sorry, Teddy,’ I said as I tried on the collar. It fit perfectly. There were holes in the collar that made it adjustable.

“No, Dad said I can punish you here,” Teddy said. Teddy didn’t generally lie but his father hadn’t warned me of that. I had no reason to doubt him. “Reach down and grab your toes. You can hold it for 5 minutes, and if anyone asks you can say you were disobedient and are being taught a lesson.”

I nearly pissed myself. After weeks of dashing completely naked down my street in the late night hours, I wasn’t prepared for the intense humiliation of being exposed in a public place. No one asked why I stood that way but I was sure a few people noticed the crack of my ass hanging out of the back of my short skirt. I wasn’t wearing panties.

I heard a few giggles. Teddy was loading up our cart with bone shaped toys, a leash, and he had even found a dog dish for me. He left me standing like that alone for a really long time before he came back.

“I am sorry Teddy, I’ll behave,” I promised as I stood up.

“What do you prefer to be called? Mom or slut?” he asked.

Teddy often asked me thought-provoking questions that made me question the reasons why I had chosen to do what I was told. He had an insatiable curiosity.

“Truth be told, I think sometimes I prefer slut when you give me orders or punish me, because mom reminds me a lot of how I used to act,” I admitted. I blushed because a woman saw the collar around my neck and coupled with the slutty outfit was able to put two and two together. It probably seemed equally strange that I was there with a young teenage boy.

“Do you prefer to be called whore or slut?” he asked.

It made me cringe when my son called me a whore. I was one now and I accepted that but it still invoked strange taboo feelings that he shouldn’t be doing that, and that I shouldn’t encourage him.

“I think slut is easier for me to handle,” I admitted.

“I’ve noticed your butthole crinkles up sometimes when I say the word whore,” Teddy crinkled his fingers into a rough approximation of my butthole and flexed it to demonstrate how my anus looked.He didn’t lower his voice so I was certain someone overheard him speaking so bluntly about my most private body part. Words don’t exist for the combination of fear of discovery and humiliation that I was feeling at that moment – to be so objectified and have my body’s reactions described like that was dehumanizing but exhilarating on some level.I wondered if my pussy lips clenched as well when I heard myself being spoken to in vulgar ways. It was just so different than anything anyone had ever said to me before – the audacity of it all was kind of refreshing.

“I got you this bowl custom made,” he showed a custom dog dish to me proudly. The store had an engraver at the front that quickly printed out “Slut” and “Mom” on a ring that went around the bowl. “I could have had it say Whore and Slut, but I thought it might be nice to remind you that even though you are our slut. You are also our mom.”

“Thank you, Teddy!!” I was a little misty-eyed and hugged my son.

There was an equally meaningful time during breakfast one morning. Daniel said he wanted to show me something and told me to fetch my dildo. I crawled upstairs and returned with it for him. I assumed I’d get to masturbate.

“Let me teach you something,” he took the dildo from me. Daniel is handsome, fit and smart. He has a mean streak sometimes but he is very well meaning and he can be more sensitive than many realized. He pressed his left thumb against his side and then went down on the dildo as Marcie had. My son Daniel deep-throated my dildo and stunned the entire family.

“Breathe through it, like this and relax your throat muscles. Don’t even think about it, just do it. Now, you try,” he handed me the dildo still wet with his saliva.

Cindy was just waiting to say something snarky. He stopped her before she could. “Yes, I am bi. Okay? I like guys and girls. I was afraid to tell everyone because everyone thinks I am this manly man. After Mom started living her truth, and had the courage to be a house pet, I told myself that I could do it too.”

We all hugged him, and accepted him warmly. My family is not the type to have not accepted Daniel if he was gay. Cindy might have teased him a little but she didn’t when he came out to us. Instead, she said it explained a lot.

“What do you mean, sis?”

“I mean you won’t go out with Sheila Givens, and she has the hots for you.”

“She’s a slutty skank,” he dismissed her. Then he looked right at me and said “no offense, Mom” to imply there was nothing wrong with being a slutty skank.

“You couldn’t offend me if you tried, Daniel. I don’t consider myself courageous, but I am glad you felt you could finally tell us,” I added.

“Oh my god, you are braver than anyone we know,” Cindy chided me for daring to think otherwise. “You do stuff that I’d never be able to do in a million years.”

“C’mon sis. You should put on a thong and run with mom some night,” Danny laughed. It was a really thoughtful and loving morning.

They punished me right after, but it was a really loving kind of spanking, while I deep throated my dildo fully between swats. It was the first time I ever completely deep throated my dildo without vomiting.

Toward the end of the week, Cindy volunteered to walk me on the leash. Teddy was the one who did that, but this time she wanted to do it. I assumed I’d be going out in the back yard to piss and shit.

Instead, she had me put on one of her skimpiest outfits and go out the front door with a leash around my collar. It was broad day light. We walked slowly up around the block. She had me wave at everyone and teased me a little about how absurd I looked as her doggy.

“You know when you first started doing this, I resented you. I thought that you were going through some mid-life crises, and you were trying to escape into a fantasy world,” she admitted. That was fair and I told her I didn’t blame her for thinking that.

“Shut up, Cow,” she twisted my nipples under my blouse. Right out in public, without concern for who might have seen.

“Sorry,” I apologized.

“See? If you were just doing this for selfish reasons, you probably would have told me that was irritating. You really committed to this. At first, I was just seeing how far I could push you because I assumed you’d eventually crack and tell me that I went too far. You’ve been impossibly patient.”

“Thank you, Cindy.”

“Takes some of the fun out of punishing you. Can’t you complain or refuse sometimes and make us remind you that you agreed to this?” she half-joked.

“I am not perfect, I make plenty of mistakes, and sometimes I complain,” I admitted.

“No you don’t. You are super sweet and just accept whatever we dump on you. It’s kind of sickening,” She joked. “I love you though, Mom. You know that, right? You are kind of a head-case, but you are really kind of cool.”

I thanked her and told her that I loved her and that she was really cool as well.

“You have to say that because you are my mom,” she grimaced.

“I mean it though,” I admitted.

“I might just have to be nice to you for the rest of the day,” Cindy seemed genuinely pleased.

“Please don’t,” I asked politely. Cindy seemed confused. “You are the most ruthless member of the family. I think you know how the female mind works better than your brother and the things that terrify and humiliate me like being walked around the neighborhood on a dog leash. If you really want to be nice to me, you could try being stricter today.”

“Stand and do 10 jumping jacks, whore!” she demanded. She stopped me every 10 paces or so and made me do push ups, jumping jacks, even sit ups on the sidewalk.

When a nice gentleman noticed me. He asked what I was doing. Cindy answered “She’s training for the whore-a-lympics. Got to keep her in shape.”

The old man looked shocked and possibly offended. He quickly evaporated back to wherever he came from into his house. Cindy and I laughed about that and the “Training for the Whore-a-lympics” became a little inside joke for us.

By Friday night, I had been wearing my dog collar almost all of the time. I was serving full time around the house, and half the time I either slept on the floor after my husband finished fucking the shit out of me.

Marcie and Mike were coming by and this time I was ready for them. I crawled to the door and let them in. I led them to my family in the kitchen while crawling across the floor and dragging my tits.

They brought nipple clamps, handcuffs, floggers and other BDSM toys for us to play with in the bedroom. They didn’t show them to the kids when they arrived. However, that night after we were done fucking our brains out and they used all of their lovely toys on me they brought it up.

“Our kids have seen us naked plenty of times. They are used to that. They also know we are swingers. They know their mom is submissive to me some times, but not much more than this is a consensual adult relationship. I was inspired by how open and honest you were with your kids,” Marcie began.

I admired Marcie and was often jealous of how comfortable she was with her sexuality. I was shocked that she was inspired by me.

“If you are okay with it, we’d like to invite them over tomorrow and let them see how your kids are fine with your relationship, and then tell them that we engage in puppy play,” Marcie looked genuinely nervous. I’d never seen that women look afraid of anything -no matter how BIG it was.

“Marcie is a big chicken and won’t be a puppy full time like you,” Mike teased her.

“I won’t do it all day. Just maybe a few hours around the house now and then for fun. The boys will laugh it off probably but Tiffany may think I am a total freak.”

“The kids think I am a total freak, but they don’t seem to mind. I try to make it up to them by being funny and amusing around the house, and doing all of the chores,” I admitted. I clarified that I wasn’t a puppy all of the time.

“You are when we come over. You crawl upstairs, and you even crawled to answer the door.”

“Oh yes, I crawl a lot, but that isn’t being a puppy is it?” I asked.

Marcie looked at me as if she was quite proud of me. She told me she brought me a gift. “Knee pads,” she pulled them out of the sex toy bag duffel that they brought over.

“I am a carpenter by trade, and they save my knees when I am down on my knees working,” Mike admitted.

The pads were small but they were black and kind of ugly. I was thankful to get them. They would definitely solve one of the bigger problems with being on all fours and that was that it can really bother your knees. I had been experiencing muscle strain all over by working new muscles that I seldom used before all of this began.

Steve shared some tips with them about helping to ensure a common understanding, but they seemed to have talked it all out ahead of time. I was puzzled why they didn’t just do this at their own house. They seemed to believe that it would be easier to accept if their kids saw that ours accepted me and didn’t freak out.

I was more than happy to oblige but it was no longer up to me.

That morning Marcie came downstairs naked with me, and Mike went to go pick up their kids and bring them back over. The kids weren’t entirely shocked, although Danny and Teddy definitely checked Marcie’s body out. She shaved her pussy bald. I kept mine well trimmed.

It was obvious that Teddy was fascinated most of all. “Would you like me to shave my pussy bald like that, Teddy?”

“See, that is what I mean,” Marcie took a sip of her coffee. “You are a natural submissive. You care what people think. I would never ask my kids how they prefer me to groom. I don’t care what they think. If I want a shaved beaver then I’ll have a shaved beaver,” Marcie sipped again. “I just like doing submissive stuff sometimes.”

“It isn’t very submissive to drip snail trails all over my chair,” Cindy lamented. Marcie had thought nothing of taking the closest chair without realizing that the family generally had their favorite chair around the table.

“Oh, ha-ha, I forgot,” Marcie chuckled and admitted at her house she sits around naked all the time. “I won’t be sitting for long. If all goes well when my kids get here I am going to join her as a puppy for a few hours. Your mom inspired me to have an open and honest discussion with them about our lifestyle, and for harmless things like puppy play we’ll try it out around the house as long as they can be cool with it.”

Cindy’s feathers were ruffled for some reason. I think she felt Marcie was being a hypocrite by wanting to behave submissively but not committing to the attitude. Marcie picked up on that and explained that everyone has their own likes and dislikes. “I like getting my ass kicked every now and then quite thoroughly. It grounds me and makes me appreciate the freedoms and choices I get. Your mom seems to find liberation in surrender and having decisions made for her. I don’t think I could ever do that. It’s okay – different strokes for different folks.”

Cindy didn’t want to like Marcie. I could tell that much. I think she felt that despite what Marcie had said, there was something off-putting about saying you were a submissive while being the loudest person at the kitchen table. Marcie liked to laugh, tell stories and she often sucked up all the energy in the room and became the focus of attention. She was certainly doing it now. Teddy and Daniel were all about staring at her tits. They were smaller than mine but quite lovely and her nipples were more broad and fat.

“Mom stand up and do a puppet show,” Teddy ordered. He liked it when I pulled my pussy lips apart and made funny voices. I was just turning around and pulling my ass cheeks apart and say “LET ME ASS YOU A QUESTION” in a silly Mr. T voice when the doorbell rung. Mike probably didn’t have to knock but he was being polite.

“I’ll get it,” Marcie offered and told me to continue. She stood up and walked to the door in the nude. She was confident and strutted across the living room like it was not that big of a deal. Her kids had been told on the way over that they were going to talk about things, and that their mom would be naked.

“Can we go swimming later?” Joseph her youngest son asked.

“We didn’t bring our suits,” Tiffany her daughter chided him for bringing it up.

“Obviously, they are nudists too, dunce,” Jimmy observed sarcastically. It was obvious that her kids teased each other even more than mine did. My kids had been getting a long a LOT better now that things had changed. They still teased each other but they spent more time teasing me than each other.

My kids were more like team mates on the same side and less like adversaries now.

“Ugh gross, not all of us want to parade around naked like big attention whores,” Tiffany directed her vitriol toward her mother.

“Oh stop, Tiffany. I think you will at least like what I am going to tell you today,” she dismissed her daughter’s complaint. “Your father told you that I am submissive to him. That doesn’t mean I am weak or that I am not your mom. It just means that I have a bond with your father that I sometimes like to surrender my authority to him in tangible ways as an expression of my love.”

“Ugh,” Tiffany groaned. Her brothers chuckled. They didn’t stare at my nudity the way that my boys stared at Marcie. They were probably much more used to it. I let go of my pussy lips and stood up and listened.

Marcie explained that they have been living by a ‘code’ of understanding for a long time. “In some houses, the man is the boss and the women do women’s work. I never thought I’d end up in of those because I’ve always been so strong willed and stubborn, but I kind of like it. When I am bad, your father puts me in my place,” she smiled. She had a joy about her as she explained the dynamic of her relationship with their husband.

“For many years, we’ve evolved those rules over time. We’ve always been careful about exposing you to things we thought you may not understand. As an example, we took you to nudist resorts early so that you would gain an understanding that the body is not necessarily sexual and there is nothing wrong with being naked.”

“Yeah, then why are boys such pervs?” Tiffany groaned. Cindy seemed to find a kindred spirit in Tiffany and they teamed up a bit to bag on boys.

“Thank god they are, or there probably wouldn’t be any babies walking around,” Marcie laughed. “I am a perv too, just my interests are not the same as most boys. I like the things I like; you like the things you like. It’s okay to be different. Today, we are going to talk about something that may make you uncomfortable and if it does then I want to know you feel that way.”

“I do,” Tiffany was clearly joking. She was stuck-up and pretentious and almost as loud and boisterous as her mother.

“Hear me out first,” Marcie sighed. “You see the collar? When I have this on, it means that I am in submissive mode. That means that anything your father tells me to do, I am going to do. It means I may kneel at his feet, and I’ll be polite to him.”

“What about us?” Jimmy voiced his concern as well.

“Yeah, well that’s the side-benefit. If you guys will keep your traps shut long enough. When I am being nice, then I’ll be polite to everyone. No one has to do chores but me, and I’ll even set the table and keep everyone’s glass full at dinner. How is that?”

“Hoo-raah,” Tiffany wiggled her finger in the air sarcastically to suggest that wasn’t a very big boon, but her sons seemed to think it was cool.

“We aren’t going to share everything we do together. Some things will always remain private, but I enjoy puppy play. Do you know what that is?”

“Playing around like a puppy?” Joseph volunteered.

“Duh,” Tiffany rolled her eyes. The young blonde’s behavior reminded me of a cartoon caricature of my own daughter on one of the first days we talked about this as a family. Tiffany was a bit more caustic and less understanding.

“Exactly, your father likes it when I roleplay a puppy, and I enjoy it too. So does, Mrs. McGregor. You can call her Julie today. She and I are going to demonstrate what it’s like and as long as you are comfortable then every now and then around the house you may find me in puppy mode.”

“Sounds dumb. What is the point?” Tiffany asked sourly.

“The point is to have fun, and not take life so seriously. Your father likes when I do it, and their family does as well. I know it will seem a little weird, but does anyone have a problem with it? A REAL problem?” she implied that Tiffany couldn’t just say she did to be obstinate. She asked if they had more questions.

“Will you have a tail?”

“Sometimes, but today I am just going to shake my butt, Joseph. If you have questions you can ask your father or me at any time. You can also ask the McGregors,” she explained. Marcie dabbed her nose with brown eyeliner so that she had a cute puppy nose. She did the same thing for me and drew whiskers on my cheeks. It definitely added to the impact.

“Okay, here goes,” Marcie seemed genuinely nervous as she got down on her hands and knees. She was naked save for her knee pads and collar. I joined her on the floor.

Her kids burst out in laughter. That wasn’t unexpected, my kids laughed as well. We crawled around the kitchen and living room playfully scampering. It was strange but fun to have a fellow puppy on the floor with me. We nipped at each other playfully and dashed around. I usually went to Teddy and sat up for him and panted, but this time I played more with Marcie.

I saw her kids talking to my kids about it. It seemed like Tiffany and Cindy had hit it off and were talking (or plotting). The boys all congregated together as well. Teddy demonstrated some of the things I could do, like roll over, sit up and beg, and play dead. It got some big laughs.

“Ready for a walk, slut?” Teddy asked me.

“You call your mom a slut?” Tiffany seethed with rage. “That’s such misogyny,” she rolled her eyes.

“She likes it. We even put it on her food dish,” Teddy said as he attached my leash to my collar. “Does someone want to walk Mrs. Flynn?” he asked.

Mike told Teddy that he could call her Marcie until they could think up a pet name. Teddy had never addressed another adult by their first name until our games began. He offered to take her outside but her eldest son Jimmy really wanted to do it.

Marcie glanced up pleadingly at Mike for him not to allow that. “Hey, it’s just a demonstration. If you want to walk your mom, why not? Just remember when the collar comes off, she is goes back to Mom-mode.”

We padded outside together in the grass under the shade of a tree. I licked her face playfully like an affectionate puppy and she licked mine. Her son laughed about it with Teddy. “We’re dogs. It’s fine,” Marcie looked over her shoulder and winked at them.

“Dogs don’t talk Mrs. Flynn, I mean Marcie,” Teddy instructed.

“This one does ... some times,” she likened herself to a female version of Scooby Doo. I remained quiet but used subtle eye movements and head nods to convey any response that wasn’t a bark.

“Okay, do your business,” Teddy walked us over to the tree that I usually used.

“You don’t really go pee out here do you?” Marcie whispered to me with an incredulous expression.

I nodded. I could hold it.

“Go on, Slut. If you don’t go now, I won’t give you permission later,” Teddy prodded me. I wiggled my butt playfully, raised my leg and faced away from Marcie’s son. I didn’t want to disgust him. I peed on the tree.

Marcie and he both laughed. Marcie shrugged and waited until I finished to take the same position and pee on the tree.

“You don’t actually go poop do you?”

“She is a dog, so yes, she does. Did you think puppies sit on toilets?” Teddy asked the question rhetorically.

I was embarrassed. Marcie seemed impressed, shocked, and a little dismayed. “Well, that may be a bit much, but I’ll pee on a tree,” she laughed. We went back inside, and Mike had prepared some “dog food” for his wife. It was tuna fish with mayo and it stunk and looked like dog food.

She got it all over her face while her kids laughed as she ate without use of her hands. I had already eaten so I sniffed around her dish and pretended I wanted it. Marcie growled at me and pretended to jealously guard her food. It was fun and playful.

When she finished, I thought nothing of licking the messy tuna fish off of her face.

“Mom, this is ridiculous and you are an idiot. You are acting like a total pig,” Tiffany declared angrily. She sat at the table and continued watching. I pictured Cindy and Tiffany as those two old Muppets that sit in the balcony and never have anything nice to say about the show but watch it week after week.

However, Cindy shocked me. She stood up and distanced herself from Tiffany. “Are you saying my mom is a pig too?”

“Well, duh,” Tiffany said.

I didn’t want the girls to fight or argue. I’d never been called a pig, but I had been called worse. I kind of felt a little like one based on my behavior. I certainly wasn’t offended by the name I was called.

“Your mom is trying to be chill and do something she likes. She isn’t going to do it all the time,” Cindy retorted.

“She doesn’t have to do it at all. It’s embarrassing and stupid,” Tiffany shot back.

“You know what your problem is? You are a tight ass who thinks this is all about you. Let other people have their fun as long as it isn’t bothering you,” Cindy added. Steve was going to intervene and shut down the argument because it was starting to be dramatic and all eyes were on the girls.

“You think it’s silly too,” Tiffany replied defensively.

“Yeah, I did, because I didn’t understand it. I’ve never done it, but watching you run your mouth about it and ridicule your mom makes me feel sorry for her that she has to put up with you. I can be an asshole, but you are a mega-asshole,” Cindy added.

“What am I supposed to say? My mom’s got her big butt sticking up and is eating like a dog while every guy in the room laughs at her.

“Seems to me, you were the one laughing loudest,” Cindy held up her hand and called for calm. She unbuttoned her shirt.

“What are you doing?”

“I am going to be a dog for a little while and see what it’s like. If your mom and my mom can do it, so can I,” Cindy huffed. She slipped out of her top but left her bra on. She removed her shorts but left her panties on. She didn’t ask for a collar or knee pads. Instead, she slipped down to her hands and knees and began crawling around the kitchen floor.

“Take it all the way off, Sis,” Daniel teased playfully.

“The only way you are seeing my bare ass is if you give it a big kiss,” Cindy gave her brother the finger and came over to where I was and licked my face. It was a single, playful lick and nothing sexually suggestive.

We immediately began to chase one another. Marcie would chase the two of us, and then me and my daughter would turn on her and chase her around the couch. Then Marcie and Cindy teamed up and chased me. I grabbed a toy with my mouth and tried to play keep-away. Marcie and Cindy instinctively dashed over to me and tried to pull it out of my mouth with their teeth. We growled playfully, sniffed, and cavorted around the living room for about an hour.

It was a really fun afternoon. My daughter said after she got dressed that she didn’t want to knock something until she tried it.

“Did you enjoy it?” her dad asked.

“Yeah, it was kind of fun. I wouldn’t do it all the time, and I am not pooping outside, but if you want to get me a collar like moms I’ll play along some times.”

Cindy might not have volunteered that if Tiffany hadn’t have been a mirror reflecting her own behavior back at it. Her suggestion was very casual as if she was asking for a tennis racket or a surf board to occasionally go to the beach.

Unlike when she asked for those things in the past, she actually DID use the collar.

Those words she said that Saturday afternoon begin a whole new chapter of my story with my daughter’s journey to explore her own submission. She is a “smart-assed masochist” like Marcie and she likes to submit on her own terms, and only when she feels like it.

We still have a blast around the house, and I couldn’t be happier. I am no longer bored with me.

Marcie continues to come over on weekends, and she is submissive around her house too, but just like my daughter she does it when she feels like it and has the time. There are no hard rules set in stone that says you have to live 24/7 as a submissive – I just like life better that way.

I no longer work a desk job. It was impossible. I do have a side hustle on Twitter and Onlyfans that I started during Covid and now that things the Pandemic seems to have subsided and we have gotten back to normal, I’ve begun actually whoring myself out.

Well, my husband has. I just show up and fuck who he tells me to fuck.

After six months, I eventually stopped working my old job and became a full time prostitute – mostly out call stuff so that clients don’t know where we live. We’ve had a couple sex parties with Mike and Marcie’s friends though. The kids obviously didn’t participate but they mingled and talked to the guests in the living room – they knew what everyone was there to do. We had sex upstairs though! Those were fun nights – I am still sore and stretched out.I ended up with more tattoos, and my nipples and pussy are pierced. None of that was my idea, but that is part of what excites me. My body is sort of like family property – everyone gets to decide (except for me) what I do with it and how to decorate it.

I’ve become even more brazen about doing whatever I am told by my family. I know you are probably wondering if we have sex. A lot of people that know us have asked that question.

The closest I’ve come to actual sex is masturbating Daniel some times when he asks me to swallow his cum, and on a few occasions I let him titty fuck me. Cindy gives her brother’s blowjobs, but I am honestly not sure if that’s more her idea than it is theirs. They’ve never asked me to go that far – I suppose I would if they asked though. She’s become quite the little slut in the last few months. I suppose I was the inspiration for her awakening. She likes being humiliated even more than I do – but she is a huge extrovert and show-off.

I know my story sounds a little far-fetched but it happened just like that. I was bored of who I was and one day I wasn’t. I asked my husband to make me do naughty things and I couldn’t be happier. I wake up every day knowing I am going to be told exactly what I am going to have to do and that is fairly comforting.

I like the constant variety and all three of my kids and my husband have different ideas of what I should be doing. They certainly keep me busy. I probably have sex with about 10 men or women every day now. Most of those don’t pay any money, but even if they did – I don’t handle the cash.