CHAPTER 6: OWNED & TRAINED
A couple weeks after the conference activity, life seemed to return to what it had been. Strangely, I missed what it had been during that time. All the fucking, the gangbangs, and the exhibitionism. Our routine had returned to regular fucking from Jerome and Ty every day by cunt, ass, and deep throat. There was still the random fucking of other men as 'rewards', by Jerome's expression.
Mom was in Jerome's bed licking and playing with his big cock after another fuck. I was in Ty's lap in a chair, on his big cock in my cunt facing the bed. It felt so good inside me after our fuck. Despite its softening, it was big enough to still feel like it filled me, and the slow softening and shrinking felt erotic.
"I have an appointment set for you both tomorrow," Jerome casually informed us.
"Mmmm hmmm," mom absently mumbled in response around his black cock.
I was even less curious. I was intent on squeezing Ty's cock with my cunt and was feeling it responding inside me. Whatever it was Daddy wanted (yes, 'Daddy' felt right) from us was good at this point: from fucking some random guy to helping at one of the houses, it didn't matter.
* * * *
Ty was driving with Daddy in the front seat. Mom and I were in the back. We were dressed slutty, of course. The tank tops we wore were tight with nearly no back and the front left the sides of our tits exposed and free to move. Our skirts were pleated and 'cheerleader-short' so our ass-cheeks were barely covered standing straight. The material was light enough that a breeze could lift it. We wore no underwear, of course. Underwear was no longer allowed but with the rare exception given by Daddy.
Ty stopped and diagonally parked on the street in the renovated old downtown district. The district was very popular on weekends and people were swarming the sidewalks and jaywalking as they visited the various shops, stores, restaurants, and bars. It was impossible to exit the car without the tiny skirt sliding over our hips and flashing our bare cunts to anyone glancing our way. We'd been trained to never smooth or tug our clothes for covering but to allow them to fall naturally. Sometimes that took a few steps. And, despite not being allowed clothes in Daddy's house or yard or working days nearly naked in brothels or fucking groups of men for hours, being naked in public (a club or street setting) was still embarrassing as people stared with lust or disgust. The five-inch heels we wore were certain to cause our unrestrained tits to bounce and sway.
We followed behind them for a full block before they stopped at a restaurant with a small section of tables outside in full view of the sidewalk. We beat the lunch rush, apparently, and had the pick of tables. Daddy indicated to the hostess, who glanced disapprovingly at mom and me, that he wanted a table near the railing separating the sidewalk from the outdoor seating.
When I sat, I felt the vinyl covering on my bare ass. Another part of our training immediately kicked in: we are not allowed lady-like sitting which means no crossed legs or tightly held knees. Our knees were to be relaxed and that resulted in being parted. In these skirts, it meant our shaved cunts would frequently be exposed to any probing eyes.
"You're aroused, slut."
I looked up from the salad I was eating. Maintaining our weight and fitness was critical. "Of course, Daddy," I replied knowing he was referring to my erect nipples pressing against the thin material of the tank top.
"Is your cunt wet, too," he asked with seeming no regard for the people around us.
"Of course, Daddy, aren't I always ready for you and Ty?" I confirmed.
"What about you, slut?" and I knew he had turned his attention to mom.
"You know I am, sir," came her reply. He smiled at the two of us and glanced at Ty who returned the smile. I had the feeling their silent communication had less to do with our exposure in public and our reaction to it and more to do with our responses. It wasn't lost on any of us that I was transitioning further and my shift of reference from 'sir' to 'Daddy' for Jerome was an indicator.
"You both are getting two tattoos in a moment." He indicated across the street where I now saw a shop advertising tattoos and piercings. I already had several tattoos but this would be the first for mom who was still unmarked. There was an almost unnoticed flinch in her reaction but quickly followed with a nod of acceptance. I was pretty sure it wasn't going to be some dainty rose.
As we jaywalked across the street, two things happened during the short trip: a gust of wind came down the street and the traffic required us to jog halfway. The wind lifted our skirts over our hips and the jog bounced our large tits. Both of which were like flashing neon lights drawing attention to us.
Daddy and Ty shook hands with a rough-looking Hispanic man of average height and build. The man looked at us as a short conversation ensued. He smiled and nodded his understanding and led the way to the back where a reclinable chair and equipment waited and a curtain that could provide some privacy.
"The curtain won't be necessary," Daddy said. The man gave us leering smiles that had plenty of meaning. I just didn't know what the meaning was ... yet.
The man said, "Strip." That was unexpected. We had so much skin exposed, already. And, we were in a public shop that anyone could enter at any moment. The command produced no reaction from Daddy, however. I quickly released the catch at the side of the skirt and pushed it over my hips to the floor, then pulled the thin tank top up and over my head. Mom followed a moment behind me.
The man pointed at the chair and I didn't hesitate. Once in the chair, he released a lever on the side and the back fell down so I was reclined on my back. He and Daddy reviewed some sketches on paper before a decision was made. The man asked where it would be put and Daddy tapped the inside of my thighs and I opened them. He put his index finger just above my pussy, just above my clit. The man prepared the stencil and pressed it on my lower abdomen. Daddy shook his head and marked the spot again much lower. The marks were washed off and reapplied. I raised my head and saw the bottom of the mark an inch above my clit. Even upside down I read the single four letters in an elaborate two-inch script, 'SLUT'.
Pulling my skin taut, he pressed on my clit and pulled. After a moment, he slipped the index finger inside my cunt, the thumb on my clit, and pulled. The sharp sting of the needle combined with the finger moving slightly inside and thumb pressing firmly on my clit was stimulating. After he completed that, a three-inch ace of spades was put on my left leg just above my ankle. After being treated with ointment and covered with gauze, I stood up and mom took my place. For her, being permanently marked as a slut was magnified by it being her first.
As mom's same tattoos were being applied, "Sir?" I asked quietly of Ty while still standing naked. "I notice he has the same tattoo on his neck as the men in the drug group."
