My Summer Of Dares

by Jackie Rabbit

Email Feedback | Forum Feedback

© Copyright 2021 - Jackie Rabbit - Used by permission

Storycodes: F+/f M+F+/f; fpov; bond; chain; collar; cabin; D/s; hum; naked; slave; cons; X

Continues from

Part 16: Consequences

...Gregory returned me to the summerhouse sore and exhausted, but wonderfully sated as well at some point early in the morning, the untying part of any bondage always seeming anti-climatic to me though, and perhaps the only low point of the night for us. It was also a personal low point for me because it meant that he had to return me to the girls, and a small part of me wanted to stay with him, like forever. Had I been capable of deeper thoughts that night in my satisfied exhaustion, I might have seen this as a version of "puppy love," ironic if one thought about it...

Our brief, in the dark post orgasm discussion didn't go anywhere near Gregory's lack of endowment though, but rather centered on my gratitude for the extraordinary multiple orgasms Gregory had pried from my willing and bound body. He was apparently as proud of what he was able to physically do for me as he was of his improvised restraint, and rightfully so too. He had only stopped his efforts on my behalf when I had become too sore down there to go on, my back to back... to back struggling orgasms leaving my body twitching and helpless, and obviously exhausted from my exertions.

The restraint part was an obvious trigger for me too, and I knew, even at that age, that it would be a fun part of any extraordinary sex for me going forward. I'd had bigger teen boyfriends in my very limited sexual experiences to date, but those had been inexperienced and clumsy teen boys, intent only on their own gratification, where Gregory was an experienced actual man who was focused on mine. Even this comparison was unfair as Gregory hadn't necessarily "been there" yet, circumstances, and not I holding such back from him though...

Since it was so late Gregory didn't actually come in with me, and I was greeted by both girls waiting up for me like expectant parents, "their" teen on a date with a man, and they likely wanted to ensure nothing too out of bounds had occurred. I had left my borrowed sweatshirt in Gregory's car, in fact I had ridden the whole way back to the summerhouse in his passenger seat scandalously naked, the sweatshirt left between us on the seat though, just in case I suddenly needed it. Nobody saw me at that late hour anyway, I scrunched down in the seat when we passed the few cars that we did, but it still felt quite risky and playful to drive home in the front seat of a man's car like that.

...The overall feeling I caught myself drifting toward back then was that I didn't want, nor deserve clothes, and not because I thought I had a stunning body that deserved to be displayed all over town either. There was more of an implied innocence to my exposure, if that made any sense at all. At the same time I didn't necessarily want to get caught naked by somebody NOT in our expanding circle of friends either, but the helpless possibility of such, as a fantasy concept, also did something for me back then too...

"Have fun?" Tracy asked wearily, like no good parent ever would if their stripped naked teen had just been delivered back home from a date, especially so late at night while out with an older man. We had kept more or less to the script though, although if Tracy had looked closely she would have seen the sticky tape residue on both my wrists and ankles, as well as the dirt on my knees that I COULDN'T brush off.

"Yes, yes I did" I answered, "but more importantly, Gregory did too." Serious fatigue then hitting me hard with the length of our day, and all that had happened during it. It was a life changing day for me, not every day does one sign up for college, sell themselves into slavery, get a tattoo, get spanked by an almost stranger, and both give, and get, such wonderful, wonderful orgasms while bound up and helpless. I even forgot to call her ma'am, and she didn't even correct me.

"Get some rest, down here in your cage though..." Tracy tells me, Dana uncharastically mute the entire time, not saying a word. "Tomorrow morning breakfast at nine sharp, and then we work out the details of your service here. And don't forget, do not peek at that tattoo until we tell you it's okay to do so, either Dana or more likely I will change the bandage for you tomorrow."

"Yes, ma'am" I answered, I think all three of us just wanted to get some sleep at that point...

I woke to dishes in the sink, dirty pots on the stove, and exclusively the girls' laundry to be done, and with the exception of my borrowed shorts I didn't have a stitch of clothing actually in that hamper of my own. It was ironic if one dwelled on it, and this was only the start of my first full day of slavery to the girls, or as Gregory would likely call it, Indentured Servitude. It was peaceful and quiet in the early morning though; the house to myself, my thoughts to myself, the enormity of what I had agreed to sinking in with the enveloping silence. I then unconsciously rubbed at my bandaged ass; nope, this wasn't some kinky dream, I had actually sold myself off to my two best friends, and encouraged not one, but two men to tie me up, all in the same day.

There was at least a hand written menu on the fridge under a magnet for the next few meals, and I had the breakfast requested at their bedroom door at exactly nine am, although the menu also had the times each was to be served redundantly written in as well. I had heard them quietly talking in bed as I approached their closed door, knocking respectfully before entering with their tray of food. I was still envious of their intimate relationship, but less so with Gregory in my life now, being well sated by another for perhaps the first time in my life making me introspective though.

I also got the feeling that as much as I was coming to terms with selling myself off for an education - post magnificent orgasms - the girls might have also been coming to terms with the consequences of what they had just purchased. Yes they could be bossy and manipulate me into doing what they didn't want to themselves, but individual chores, or even a cluster of chores for a few hours though, like cleaning Dana's house for her. I realized that keeping someone busy all day long could turn into a "chore" all by itself, let alone every single day going forward should I turn myself into a servant that needs constant management of her efforts. Our time together at the summerhouse during the past few days had been like a taste of what was to come though, but before both the contract and my tattoo this felt more like friendly play, and less real, where now it felt very, very real, real and permanent.

...Gregory complicated this feeling of commitment for me now too, as I had a small but growing desire to be with him instead. I didn't have a signed contract with him though...

To say that this next part of our relationship started out smooth and error free would be a lie, but I at least knew to maintain the household in clean and tidy fashion, and provide the meals on the girl's menu without the necessity of being overmanaged by them. We all pretty much fumbled through the rest of the week like this together with few incidents of note, except that I felt the nagging need to stay away from Dana. I couldn't put it into words, but she was sparse in her words to me, as if she were pissed off at me for something.

The girls did manage both a swim in the pond, and some beach time next to it to work on their tans, but in their bikinis and not naked as I was. I didn't realize at the time that this was Tracy's own personal endeavor to keep Dana and I separated as much as possible, although why exactly I didn't grasp. I even served them lunch by the water's edge in my prefered humbling and submissive uniform of my skin, as if this was some kind of kinky tropical resort. I felt more exposed being outdoors in broad daylight while naked though, even though I had been outside before like this several times, the feeling curious to me.

I wondered about this, until I realized that the gate at the end of the long driveway near the road was now open, and anybody could drive down it towards the summerhouse and get a serious eyefull, even some innocently misdirected motorist. The thought of being caught naked like this, while in actual service to the girls, did something to me, although it would be some time until I had all those feelings worked out properly in my head.

Perhaps the most eye opening part of my first week of servitude came towards the end of it, Dennis and Gregory were invited over in the early afternoon for dinner, a dinner I was to cook and serve in my default uniform of my skin, Dana specifically shopping for what she wanted me to serve. Dana could actually be quite frugal with her own money, and she bought a small turkey as it had been on sale, and pretty much everything that goes along with such a meal too so as to load me with work and apparently keep me occupied in the kitchen when the guys were there.

...This also left Dana to do the shopping alone in the grocery store for a bit as Tracy and I stayed behind, I again not realizing that Dana really needed some time away from me specifically. Tracy didn't confide in me either as she easily could have while we were home alone, further masking this brewing conflict that perhaps could have been diffused had we only talked about it together...

Both men had seen me in a majority of my skin before, and Gregory had even made some excuses to visit with all three of us earlier during the week, but he and I had no real alone time together with my load of chores, Dana specifically interrupting our time together to redirect me toward things that needed to be done in another part of the house as she stole him away for conversation.

We were obviously sweet on each other, but our relationship had started oddly, and I felt deprived of the more normal courting routines and traditions because of this. I think I even felt cheated because of this, and to be sure I wasn't entirely certain how Gregory felt about me as a result, despite our conversations that night in his car. I didn't necessarily feel like I was taken advantage of, quite the opposite in fact, as I felt that I had used Gregory for my pleasure, although while giving something first obviously...

Dennis, for his part, was smiling and struggling to play it cool-on-the-whole-concept of the girls actually having a naked slave - or so I assumed - but who could blame him? I had even opened the door for him myself at Tracy's direction when he had arrived, with Gregory sitting behind me and nearest Dana, I feeling all three looking on from their seats behind. Dennis had showed up last and seemed in a rush, as if he was running late, or perhaps even as if he didn't want to miss something profound.

I fought the brief urge to cover my naked self with my hands and arms, but this seemed almost natural, as Gregory and the girls had seen me like this often enough that it wasn't new and kinky any longer, where Dennis hadn't. It was just a momentary feeling, but I discovered a little trick for myself too, I holding one wrist firmly with my other hand behind my back as if bound that way, preventing any "modesty" on my part that might make our guests feel uncomfortable with my nudity. I wasn't quite sure if Dennis was amused, envious, or personally interested though, but I was strangely reminded of what I had been told about Dennis "entertaining" both girls at the same time right before I had run off in my pet persona...

That position also thrust my rather humble and naked chest out, although not by design, and for half a second or so it looked like Dennis was about to swoop in and kiss me. My position at the door like that could have easily been misunderstood as an offer for such, as nothing more than a friendly and innocent greeting, but he didn't end up doing what his eyes perhaps told me he had wanted to. I would have let him kiss me too, maybe not even turning my head and offering my cheek - instead of my lips - but I don't know for sure, nor how either would have played out for the other three. At the same time a part of me almost resented Dennis' company that night, without him in attendance the girls could have paired up later on at night as I know they desire, and I could have perhaps done the same with Gregory, even if only for private conversation.

I also knew deep down that any young man who could service both of my sexy girlfriends, at the same time, could obviously really rock my world one on one, that randy thought and a few others just popping into my head all on their own, even with Gregory in the same house. I had caught Dennis' eye early on, confirmed with his "maximum" comment as he fed me his pizza, but he just seemed like a typical horney guy back then, "settling" for my two pretty friends at the same time like many men would have just loved to if only given the opportunity. It likely took courage to get involved in such a thing though, courage and manly confidence to spare, Dennis apparently equipped with both in abundant supply. If their story was to be believed though, the girls had given him little choice that night, and a part of me wondered if he wanted a repeat, or if that had been less than wonderful for him in return. I came to the conclusion that there was a whole bunch that I didn't know about Dennis, but perhaps I should.

"Did Dennis even know that he had been used by my two friends?" now there was a question...

This made him quite different from Gregory, a man that also had a secret of sorts, a secret that I obviously knew about though, and one I would keep pretty much to myself no matter what happened between us going forward. I thought it was a far bigger deal to him than it would be to any woman with a soul, but I would find out that men identify with two things primarily, their careers, and their guy parts... I then named both men in my mind; thoughtful Gregory, and happy-go-lucky-mysterious Dennis, a young man, it would turn out, with skills quite easy to underestimate...

I hadn't even been offered the apron to wear for this dinner I was to cook, nor did I ask for it though, I mindful of the consequences for doing such, so this "in my skin" cooking was not only complete exposure, but messy as well despite my best efforts. Hot and sticky things repeatedly found my bare stomach and breasts more times than I might have liked, I left feeling like I needed a shower before I even served dinner.

...If the girl's idea had been to exemplify both their, and our guests' position over my own, I don't know that it was working out exactly like that, my well dressed and very pretty friends apparently NOT the center of attention that day. I felt the men tracking my movements with their eyes, and all conversation stopped the few times I re-entered the dining room where they were seated, although later on I would learn that there was a secondary reason for this sudden silence, other than my displayed and distracting submissive body...

This was to be a "thank you" meal, for all the help the girls had received with me, both in chasing me down when I had become lost in my pet persona, and for Gregory's help with the contract and tattoo as well. It was ironic to me that "they" were saying thank you with "my" extended naked labors on their behalf, but this just set the precedent for such things going forward...

I was cooking the small turkey with all the fixings, it almost like a full blown Thanksgiving meal, other than the calendar's warning that it was instead July. Pretty much everything associated with such a meal I had to do all by myself, with the exception of Gregory actually carving the turkey for me at the end as I'm not experienced in that much more traditional male job. I would rather have spent time with Gregory, instead of all alone in that very hot kitchen seeing as we had to leave for home soon, but I also realized that was the whole idea; to remind me that they, and not I, were in charge here. My thoughts on any subject just didn't matter, the sooner I apparently learned this, the better.

...Could this have been also to "remind" Gregory that I was in fact the girls property now, and spending time with me was at their discretion, and had nothing to do with either his, nor my desires on the subject? There was something else going on here too, but it just wasn't obvious, at least to me...

The secondary purpose of this visit, also unbeknownst to me at the time, was to keep me busy and distracted so the four could discuss some things together privately, plans that I apparently didn't need to know about just yet, but ones that would become quite important to me later. In the end I maybe even deserved this though, as there are consequences for one's actions, both good, and bad.

I had never cooked an entire Thanksgiving-type meal myself before either, naked or otherwise, but I had helped in the kitchen while growing up, so I in theory knew how to make all the individual elements for the meal, including my special stuffing. But, to have them all ready at the proper time is actually a pretty good trick, and a fair amount of work for one teenager in a hot kitchen all alone. I mostly pulled it off, but you have to remember this was a time before microwave ovens, and the summerhouse kitchen was not the massive affair that the kitchen I have today is.

My four burners and the oven were full the whole time, not to mention the scant counter space, adding to the afternoon July heat in that small kitchen, I in a way thankful for my lacking state of dress. I even had to wash some of the pots in between, by hand, as we had no dishwasher in that small utilitarian vacation home kitchen either. Dishwashers were uncommon in kitchens back then, probably because stay at home moms and maids had all the time in the world to wash the dishes, as did teen girls helping with dinner, I therefore quite familiar with doing the dishes by hand back then.

Gregory had brought two bottles of chilled sweet white wine with him too, and I poured this for our guests myself, serving the wine with my made from scratch dinner rolls early as the four quietly talked, all as their naked slave worked, they going silent and tracking my movements the few times I re-entered the room, in now disturbing fashion.

To their credit, both Gregory and Dennis sincerely each offered once to help, but Dana refused for me, telling them to instead sit, presenting an impossible situation for them as she was their actual host. One part of this could be seen as confidence building on my part, deep down the girls really knew I could do this; but the other, and much more likely driving force, was that this entire exercise was designed to make me busy, and keep me busy, with menial, although necessary tasks of service away from Dana. I don't know that the girls intended this to showcase my growing skills in the kitchen to either man particularly, but I was to find that was the net result in the end, this still a time where one income families were the norm, with a happy wife at home and running it, possibly while raising some children of her own too.

The meal was good, although it was really more of a mini-feast, but there was room for improvement as there always is. Between cooking, serving, and then cleaning up, I hardly had time to sit with the four other than while actually eating, and a part of me was jealous of the extended time my friends got to spend with our guests, most especially with Gregory for obvious reasons. At the same time, I felt the girls were warming up to my indentured servitude, they easily tasking me to get some more of something either they, or the guys perhaps wanted from the kitchen, as there was little extra room at the table for all the serving plates and bowls, plus us five. Hungry men asking for seconds is a high compliment though, and I was flattered, although not lost on me either was that my serving them their seconds gave me something else subservient to do for them, a further reminder of our roles here now, and a further distraction to the limited time I had to spend with Gregory.

I took that small uncomfortable and unmatched chair from the kitchen table for myself, the dining room table and it's rather nice and plush four matching chairs that came with the set occupied by the properly dressed four others. From a logical perspective this made sense for more than one reason, the comfortable chairs having upholstery that my food splashed body - cooking as I had all afternoon long in my skin - might stain, and then of course need to be cleaned afterwards. I didn't necessarily realize that the wicker top of the chair I had selected for myself would be so harsh on my still bandaged bare butt, but this was a further reason that I shouldn't be sitting naked on any nice furniture until I no longer needed the vaseline and bandages.

I didn't catch the four walking around the house together while I was in the process of cleaning up in the kitchen, after I cleared the table, but before I served coffee and pie. I felt like both chef, waitress, and busboy all rolled into one, but the sincere compliments I had received from both men filled me with pride. I could actually cook like an adult, a serious feast of a meal too, and both guys now knew this, seeing my audition for wifely womanhood first hand themselves. Sex was fun, and my sexy friends could likely outdo me in that one department with their more velopous curves, but I could FEED men, and all men liked to eat, usually several times a day!

I had both accidentally, and foolishly stolen the girls spotlight though, and again there would be consequences for such, both long term, and right now. I hadn't thought so at the time, but it could be argued that I was lingering out with our guests - or trying to -just to get away from endless cleaning in the kitchen for a few minutes. This unfortunately put me front and center for the girl's attention though, most especially Dana's...

First a positive thing, Dennis wanted to see my tattoo for himself, but I think this more properly played into the girls need to remind me of my new lower "owned" status anyway; I was nothing but property now, and the sooner I got this message, the easier things would be between us three.

I would also obviously need to see the ink that adorned my naked ass at some point anyway, before we returned back home, because afterwards there could be no practical way to prevent me from looking at it in the privacy of my own home and bedroom. I couldn't go home with a bulky bandage on my butt either, such would be a dead giveaway under my clothes that something had happened.

With this apparently in mind Dennis and Dana shared a private look, and he then excused himself and went out to his truck to fetch something. Both he and Gregory had driven there separately, although the exact reasons for such weren't explained, at least to me, but I had missed a great deal of the pre dinner conversation with my chores and serving anyway. He came back in with a legal notepad, a tape measure, and great length of chrome "dog" chain over his shoulder, it not really any heavier in construction than the chain of my choker collar, but well strong enough to keep any dog from running off... even a human sized one.

The girls collectively smiled, Dana then telling Dennis excitedly "that's exactly what I had in mind!" all as Gregory looked on; he was clearly the least excited of the four by the presence of the chain.

That meant that whatever was to happen with this chain had not only been discussed beforehand, but almost certainly shopped for beforehand too. It seemed odd that of the two, Gregory wouldn't be the one in possession of any "dog chain," but perhaps he didn't believe in chaining up his pets. He certainly didn't mind binding me up for sex though, nor locking me nearly naked in a dog crate either, so this apparent distaste for anchoring a pet in place to some unmovable object seemed odd to say the least. It would end up being a mystery that would take some time to expose itself though...

"She ran away once," Dana reminded the group almost defensively, but this message seemed more likely directed at Gregory specifically. It seemed like she was almost forced to justify her actions to him, as if this "something" she had apparently planned, with Dennis, seemed "necessary" in concept, but the reality of the "now" contradicted this. This apparently picked up on yet another conversation they must have all been having while I was busy cooking for them, I then feeling even more left out than I had earlier.

"And the other option?" Gregory asked sympathetically. I knew now why I had been able to so easily run off in my pet persona that night, but I had agreed to keep such things to myself, and Gregory didn't look like he wanted to confess this now either.

Dana and Tracy shared a look, before Tracy spoke, "I can't find fault with any aspect of either her service, or the meal" she confirmed, almost reluctantly though. I didn't get the feeling earlier that either of the girls were rooting for my actual failure, but with the tone of Tracy's last few words I wasn't so sure now.

"The meal was delicious" both men confirmed almost simultaneously, even though, in my humble opinion, there was obvious room for improvement.

"Agreed" Dana added unnecessarily, stating the group's consensus out loud as if making a decision of her own, some profound thought on that just out of my reach at the moment though. "So we go with plan B then?"

"We'll just have to save plan A for another time... I suppose," she then said, although her tone sounded almost disappointed too. I got the clear feeling that at that very moment they were all casting votes on my performance, thumbs up or down, like this was some ancient Roman colosseum from one of Gregory's old history books, and I, the unfortunate helpless peasant, forced to perform some naked feat for the amusement of my watching critics. They would then decide my fate, thumbs up and I get to go home, thumbs down and I become even more entertainment for both the watching crowd, and the proverbial hungry lions.

"She is a mess though," Dennis observed, he perhaps liking this sinister sounding plan A of theirs in some form, although the justification for such seemed lacking, whatever the hell that was anyway. Was this his potential backpedaling on his thumbs up vote on my fate? I wondered, voting for what he wanted personally, and not what was just and fair.

This conversation going on around me, I think, made me feel like less of a person, less of an equal than even being a naked serving slave to the four though. It was very humbling, and I felt like a child as a result, the "adults" in the room having an adult conversation about me, and they just talking around me and pretending I wasn't there as I stood by and listened.

... I remembered such once from when I was an actual child, it wasn't a great memory...

...It was hard to put into words, but this was surely different, and not different in a kinky and fun way either. They all four had a secret between them, pertaining directly to me too. And, to make matters worse, they were intentionally rubbing my nose in my ignorance, perhaps to see if they could get some kind of reaction from me, goad me into an angry response of some kind, or maybe even to see if I had been listening earlier. I knew deep down in my heart that the girls still loved me, but it felt like we had turned a corner here, again, this servitude now felt very real to me...

Dennis seemed the driving force here, but it was so hard to tell for certain with the limited knowledge I had, and there were just too many "firsts" to keep up with. Gregory may or may not have been "on board" for this new treatment himself, but even if he weren't, it was at best three to one, and I felt outnumbered and helpless because of this, precisely as a real slave might should she be treated unfairly by her new masters while in such company.

I had asked for this though, I even offered myself up on a silver platter to my pretty and privileged friends with a contract, what exactly did I think they would do with such an offer anyway? These thoughts then came back to me like the truthful accusation of some misdeeds, these people who were still my friends just providing that which they thought I wanted and needed, although things at the same time that I didn't have the courage to ask for outright. "Be careful what you wish for..." the familiar phrase rang through my mind, and this just the start of our adventure together...

"...So's your truck" Dana observed in snarky fashion, all three vehicles easily seen through the windows at the front of the summerhouse in the late afternoon setting sun, beyond the covered porch. They were filthy and muddy too, all three of them, so this was no exaggeration on Dana's part.

"It's that awful rain we had" Dennis told her in reply. It was apparently his turn to be defensive, or perhaps he was just a fantastic actor and steering the conversation in the direction he had been asked, perhaps just as he had at Gregory's house in regards to the pet show, back when we had all first met what felt like a lifetime ago.

"I just HATE to drive a dirty car," Dana observed with a smirk, her tone telling me this was no idle observation on her part, but I knew her better than the men did. I finally felt the animosity she 'suddenly' had for me, but in reality this had been brewing all week, and I merely numb to it due to my own saturation with this 'new' experience.

"We DO have a long drive home soon," Tracy added, the two girls on the same proverbial page now, their synergy back in full swing. Tracy HAD been the voice of reason several times recently, but her loyalties seemed torn, between her lover, and her other best friend who wasn't. I'm sure somewhere deep inside there she liked having a maid too though, instead of playing maid herself.

"How much is there?" Dana asked, looking at Dennis and his new chain, but changing the apparent direction of the conversation while she did so.

"Seventy five feet or so, way too much for our purposes, but I can return what I don't use to my uncle at the hardware store."

"And the other items?"

"We really need to sketch out exactly what you want in detail, make plans and a materials list, and then stock order it all in so it's cheaper" Dennis reminded his host in practical fashion. He sounded to me like a subcontractor might, bidding a job for a homeowner.

"I have two little items of interest right here though," Dennis then took something small from his front pocket and placed them discreetly into Dana's tiny hand.

"Greg, your car looks dirty too," Dana observed while smiling. "That's two things all three vehicles have in common." Dana opinied, although I wasn't following her in this. Both guys apparently weren't following her either though...

"Pardon?" Gregory asked.

"Jackie's been driven around in all three vehicles pretty much for free, and she's obviously good at cleaning things, and she certainly appears to have some free time on her hands too. Sooooo, it only seems fair that she washes all three while she washes her messy self up too, while we have our coffee and pie..."

" And, if she misses one single spot on anything, we go straight to plan A, without a second thought" Dana conditions darkly.

"I like it, but she'll just run away again" Dennis tells her, again with that tone that borders on patronizing, as if I'm not in the room and actually listening.

"Wanna bet?"


...This day certainly hasn't gone quite like I expected it might, my meal has turned out well enough, but it's been a lot of work, and the cleanup isn't even fully done yet. I have coffee and pie to serve too, but apparently that isn't going to go like I expected either, I thinking just a moment ago that I might finally get to have some quality time with our guests. I also foolishly left thinking that I had earned such through my good natured efforts.

Instead, I'm to have some quality time with their dirty vehicles, while the four watch still more of my naked labors on their behalf through the windows, all while three of them, at the very least, hope to find some minor imperfection with my efforts so as to justify their more sinister sounding plan A. It's to be nothing more than a lewd show for their further entertainment, as if my sole purpose in life is to amuse them and provide for their viewing pleasure, if they even look.

"What if they didn't?" I ask myself, jealousy finally getting the best of me for a bit, but I didn't see this at the time for what it was either...

I get the obvious feeling I'm not supposed to like this plan A, but their plan B that has me washing two cars and a truck, and myself, all while they watch doesn't sound like any fun for me at all.

It's amusing entertainment for them though... at my expense, but from their perspective these are likely fitting chores for their new slave, a slave that needs to be occupied just a little longer so they can make their plans, plans that I'm apparently not supposed to know anything about just yet.

I then strangely find myself taking their side and defending their position, at least in my mind for a moment or two - especially the girls - but as I've said, this also isn't the least bit kinky and fun any longer, and it's that feeling that wins out in my jumbled mind. I'm not entirely sure the exact point at when this stopped being 'fun', but I see it's not now. It's degrading servitude, like scrubbing the kitchen floor with my toothbrush might be, all while on hands and knees, naked, and closely observed by my betters, even though two of them are about the same age as I. I also don't know about sororities and fraternities, and the hazing that goes on in some of them, all to humble one soul... allegedly.

"Shock of shocks" I think cynically as my mood further darkens, Dennis has brought two little padlocks along with his overlong dog chain, he's even handed them to Dana discreetly. She beckons me closer to her silently with her fluttering index finger, her nails painted and perfect, but that's easy to do when one doesn't have to work with her hands as I must. It's not quite how one would call a cherished pet, but it's way less than one should summon a friend...

"Kneel" she orders, and I comply, my body doing that of its own accord. I've had this happen before, commands spoken at a specific tone, and at the right moment of weakness and pliability, they then going straight to my limbs and bypassing my brain. It's puppet like, but I still don't know exactly when it's going to happen; it just does.

Anaway, Dana takes one of the locks - I can see now that there are only two of the little locks right on the table near her - they looking identical to the one holding my chain choker collar on. She inserts the open hasp end into the last link of the long dog chain, and then onto my own collar, but I don't yet know if it's in choker slip-knot fashion, or not. Either way I can't easily escape, but choker-fashion has a greater implied peril to it, should whoever is left holding the other end of that long chain suddenly jerk it tight.

This is an assumption on my part though, I optimistically left thinking Gregory might still be the one holding the other end of my overlong chain leash as I toil for their amusement, he "keeping me company" on the porch as it were. This would make this almost fun again for me, and allow Dennis and the girls to work out their secret plans in my absence. Perhaps this would even let Gregory and I talk just a bit one on one, but this is in direct contradiction to the clues present so far that night.

First the big reveal though, Dana passing a portion of my long chain to Tracy on the other side of the table from both Dana, and I, she then tugging me that way. My choker collar pulls tight, confirming that Dana has opted for the more secure method of securing me to the long chain, but this is only a problem if I resist. The chain itself is noisy everywhere it touches another hard surface, and I imagine if done often enough it would ruin the finish on not only the table, but the floors as well. No matter the noise I find myself bent over that table with little choice, the position reminiscent of my being bent over Dana's hot hood on our way to the summerhouse several days ago.

I'm just as helpless now as I had been then, although now my audience is twice as large, and gender-mixed as well. My ass out position also suggests submissive sexual availability, especially being naked as I am. I don't like this with either guy present, but in Gregory's case I feel that it presents me as less than I want to be seen as, by him.

This position also more practically presents my bandaged backside for inspection, and with little fanfare Dana rips the bulky bandage from my ass in one swift swoop as I yelp and lunge further across the table. Dana's empathy is totally lacking though; but she still uses the bandage to wipe the Vaseline from my new tattoo, Dennis moving in close to get the full effect.

"Maximum" is all he says, I still don't know the significance of that one word, but I assume it's a local saying of some kind. He then traces his finger across and around it, the intrusive move tickling me, but I get the feeling that this is more of a "I have to touch it to believe that it's real" kind of thing, rather than anything specifically sexual. We inadvertently make eye contact, his expression one of awe, but awe of what exactly I don't know.

I'm ironically the last to see my own tattoo, craning my neck behind me further once Tracy has let me have some more slack, but I just can't see enough of it out of the corner of my eye to know what I'm looking at while still bent over the dinner table as I am, other than to see that it's black. Gregory seems the only one of the four that notices this, or perhaps cares, and as proof he gets up and goes into the downstairs bathroom and retrieves a hand mirror. The girls, being who they are, are never far away from one less some small defect in their appearance goes uncorrected before going out in public - my cynicism reminds me in bitter fashion.

He positions the borrowed mirror so that I can see as a perturbed Dana looks on, this feeling like just as far as he can go while still a guest in her family's second home. I see the line he is walking here now, piss Dana off too much, and mentor-college professor, or not, Gregory will be disinvited to Dana's family home going forward. I would then not only lose his company, but his moderating influence on the girls too.

The fresh new ink on my ass is in the form of a canine black paw print, the black outline of the four toes, and the pad at the base of the paw too. The base pad has the month and year written inside, but other than that it's mostly hollow, filled in only with my skin, but the four toes each have a single script letter inside of each one, also inverted like the date due to the mirror's reflection. I can still tell that they are Dana's initials inside the first two toes, and Tracys inside the last two. The script even looks like their own handwriting - or Sean's best impersonation of such - we girls signing letters like this all the time that we have given to each other over the years, and the form therefore familiar to me.

The feeling hits me pretty hard at that moment, I feel like I've been branded like a farm animal, like I was the actual property of Dana and Tracy, just like the tag on my collar also suggests I am, but that can be easily removed with a key. This adds to the permanence of the feeling of all this for me; I might 'only' have had a five year agreement with the girls, but ten times that long, a full fifty years from now, their faded initials and that paw print will still adorn my withered, naked, and hopefully by then retired ass.

"What the hell have I gotten myself into?" I think in my mind, but I dare not say it out loud, the tension going still up in that room, and not down. I think my face has given my thoughts away though, because as well as I know Dana, she knows me just as well, and she suddenly seems like a large African cat to me, stalking it's chained prey...

"I've indulged you about as far as I'm willing to," Dana growls, and I hear the sincerity in her tone, the hostility that's been building almost all week. I don't know exactly what I've done to piss her off so much, other than stealing her spotlight with my servitude, but objectively that's more her doing than mine. Pointing such out at the moment would be like suiside though, her temper rising, and I know not to push her buttons when she's in this kind of mood, despite my own brewing internal struggle.

"My needs must be secondary to her own" I remind myself...

Both men are here to complicate things too, and I also realize logically that she can't "lose face" in front of them - it's the proverbial hill she's willing to die on, or kill on - Peter's name being brought up earlier by her parents also a part of that equation. Had it been just us three girls alone I suspected it would be different, but it wasn't. There was something else going on here too, with Dana specifically, but it would take some time to sort that out...

"How about I take her out so she can get to work on the cars?" Tracy proposes softly, she sees for herself that something out of proportion seems to be bothering Dana now, and she doing her best to diffuse the situation without it looking like they were ganging up on Dana. This is new to all of us so some allowances must be made, but I still come back to the fact that if I'm not having any fun at the moment, neither apparently is Dana, the thought profound to me...

"FINE! Take this and chain her to one of the posts so she doesn't run off again" Dana commands, handing the open other little padlock to Tracy, but keeping the little keys herself.

Tracy takes me outside as the other three watch silently, I almost thankful to be outside and away from whatever is going on in there. She herself had tethered me to one of the posts by my leash when she had bathed me in my messy pet persona once, but not with a lock that I didn't have a key to. This felt different - this being chained and locked to one of the heavy posts holding the porch up - the click of that little lock profound to me. Tracy leaves me there with my thoughts for a few moments, only to return with a bucket and a sponge, and some hot soapy water in the bucket. There's a dish soap bottle there too, presumably because I'll need it to wash the cars as well as myself.

I lock eyes with Tracy before she walks back inside to visit with the others - who are watching us intently through the windows at the moment - she answers my unasked question at nearly a whisper with her back turned toward the windows. "I don't know 'exactly' what's up with Dana, but until I figure it out, DON'T piss her off!"

I can't say thank you, or anything for that matter, but it's not necessary either, Tracy has told me to do something, and I intend to do so, not only because she hadn't asked, but because it was sound advice too. Tracy goes back inside and gets maybe three feet from the door after closing it behind her, Dana then telling her something, but I don't hear the exact words though. What I do both see, and hear, is Tracy returning and locking the door, preventing me from coming back inside, even when my lengthy chores are done. This second click sound sticks in my brain, I'm not only chained to a post outside the summerhouse like a branded animal, but I'm locked out with night approaching too, or apparently until such a time as Dana decides I'm to be let back in...

With little practical choice I start by washing my body first, both the water and the sponge in my bucket as clean and warm as they're going to get, and the water in the garden hose to rinse off with likely warm as well. I had learned from last time I bathed out here, or more accurately, the last and only time Tracy had given me a pet bath out here, conserving the hot water in the hose being necessary, comfort wise.

Under other and more playful circumstances I might have hammed up the washing part, or perhaps even sexed it up a little for Gregory's benefit, but all things considered I just wash the food, flour, and cooking grime from my body, keeping my clean banded-up hair dry. I've done most of the washing with my back towards the windows, but this displays my new tattoo of ownership rather prominently to the four watching through the windows. I turn to rinse the soap from my body, also noticing my wet reflection in those same windows. Despite my tamed down show I think I present quite the erotic sight, new shiny chain and all.

Someone else is watching too though, and it reminds me of trying to do homework when there is something interesting on TV; your attention dragged in two directions at the same time. The guys, both of them, are briefly peeking up from what they're looking at on top of the dinner table, with the girls, this seemingly quite important too. They can't help themselves though, they're guys, hardwired since puberty to want to breed, and there is a naked teenager, all tanned up, and chained up, like a dog, putting on a show just on the other side of the windows from them. One of them especially likes dogs too, human ones! This forces them to ignore both my pretty friends still again, on and off, but this seems more of a problem for Dana than it is for Tracy.

I start at the left, washing Dana's car first, although it would have been more logical to have started with Dennis' truck, as his was blocking in the other two. You start reading at the left of the page, and I started with the left car, it was no more complicated than that. To those watching inside though, it may have appeared that I was intentionally prolonging this naked show of mine, not that the guys were complaining.

Even though I was off the porch by then, I took the time to look up from my labors and toward the windows on and off, it was easy as it was getting dusk outside, and the lights were now on in the summerhouse, drawing my own attention toward the motion inside. I felt like a peeping Tom voyeur, looking inside the backlit home of another, the scene like from a movie. The guys were still peeking back at me too, when the girls were heads-down concentrating on whatever they were collectively working on together.

By the time I got to Dennis' truck it was almost fully dark out, and the ground around all three vehicles had become muddy from the water as well. It was getting chilly out too as I was soaked, and the cooling truck high enough that I couldn't reach the roof short as I am, my efforts to get close have left my naked boobs in direct contact with the windows of the cab, my cold nipples dragging on the equally cold glass. Had Dennis been inside his truck instead, it would have been a hell of a show for him, my small boobs pressed flat against the glass as they were. Dragging my long muddy chain about isn't speeding the process either, but if I don't use my hand to drag the chain it pulls tight on my collar and makes me feel like I'm choking. I'm not, but it's a dehumanizing feeling that I don't like.

...I know the difference, because one time I stepped on the muddy chain with my muddy bare foot by accident, the next step I took pulling up tight on my choker chain collar hard enough to make me drop the bucket...

As a result Dennis' truck isn't all that clean, but I can't really see this, and I suspect that he won't be able to either.

I rinse out my bucket and sponge, and rinse off my muddy bare feet as well, and just stand there looking in the windows. It's light inside there, and quite dark on the porch now as they haven't even turned the outside lights on for me, my only illumination coming through the windows. It feels chilly outside now that I've stopped working, and I notice that the windows in the house are all closed now too, preserving the heat in the house now that the sun has gone down. I don't know when exactly they did this, but I had been rather occupied with my chores.

Eventually Gregory and Dennis say their goodbyes and get up to leave together, exchanging friendly, but not passionate kisses, oddly enough. Dana and Tracy see them to the door, after one of them had turned the porch lights on for their guests. They both walk right by me almost as if I don't count, even though I have just spent the entire afternoon, and well into the night, serving them in one form or another. We three girls watch them leave, Dana and Tracy from inside the open door though, and I still outside on the porch. I expect to walk back in behind them, once the guys have left. I'm still chained to the post though, but there's likely enough slack in it to allow me to roam most of the bottom floor of the summerhouse like this, except that the door won't be able to be closed all the way with the chain pinched in it.

Instead the door closes, if not in my face, then very close to that, and I hear the click of the lock still again, trapping me on the porch. The guys drive away, and the porch lights turn off again the moment they're out of sight, telling me the lights being off earlier was no oversight, Dana, at the very least still pissed off at me and sending a message of her own. Dana then pulls the shades down in front of the house too, so that they not only don't have to look at me any longer, but so that my darkness on the porch is now even more complete.

I then hear the girls having an animated, but quiet conversation, I can't make out all the words, and it's not quite an argument either, but it's certainly not pillow talk. Voices rise, and then get shushed silent again, they likely mindful of having an audience, but one locked out until let back in...

31.03.2021

You can also leave your feedback & comments about this story on the Plaza Forum