This is part 6. You'll probably want to read the others before this one, as it is a continuing story with references to the other five.
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"Yes, the replay," he said, his brow furrowing as his gaze shifted to his wife. "He doesn't know?"
"No, honey," she replied, shaking her head slowly in time with the response. "In all fairness, this just happened today; there wasn't a good time to tell him."
It made sense. I felt like I was being directed because I was. Lie here, sit there. That must be the area covered by the camera. I looked around the room but noticed nothing obvious.
"Don't see anything? Let me help you," Mom offered. "The bear your father won for me at the carnival?"
It had been there for years, on the waist-high cherry chest of drawers to the right of the bed. I had never given it a second thought. I stood up and walked towards it, still naked, my now flaccid penis swaying with each step. As I drew near, I examined the stuffed animal. It was eighteen inches tall, brown, with black eyes and a black nose, and dressed in a tuxedo-like shirt with a black bow tie. Nothing looked out of the ordinary.
"Look at the top button of his shirt," my mother prompted.
I leaned closer, and there it was. It looked like the other three buttons at a distance, but upon closer inspection, it was a small lens.
"Wow, I'd never have noticed!" I exclaimed, marveling at the camera's disguise. "Are there more?"
"Yes," Kate responded, standing up and taking over like a flight attendant pointing out emergency exits.
"There are five altogether--the bear pointed at the bed from the right, and the smoke detector gives you an aerial view of the bed, from head to foot and five feet to either side," she said, a finger pointing upward toward the device on the ceiling.
I glanced up at the detector on the bedroom's high white ceiling, about even with the foot of the bed. It looked like a normal functioning smoke detector, a red light blinking periodically.
"Then, the picture on the wall," she continued, motioning to an abstract framed print opposite the dresser, "giving a view from the left side of the room. There is one in the center top button in the headboard, and last but not least, my favorite is the vanity mirror, allowing an angle from the foot of the bed or a close-up of whoever is sitting in front of it."
"How long have the cameras been there?" I asked, still taken aback.
"Well, several years now," my father interjected. "We upgraded them recently. Technology is just growing by leaps and bounds. These are smaller, have much better picture quality, and are wireless."
He grabbed the TV remote, flicked the power on, and switched the source to HDMI3. My mother simultaneously picked up her phone, and after a few swipes and clicks, we were on the TV in five of six equally proportioned squares. The picture was clear and crisp. I looked around from camera to camera and wondered what had been captured on them over the years.
"Stevie, I know this is a lot to take in," Mom said, a hint of concern in her voice. "Is there anything you want to talk about? Do you have any questions?"
I thought to myself for a few seconds. Sure, there were questions. How could there not be? My life was "normal" on Friday if there had been such a thing. By Monday afternoon, I had fucked my sister, then my mother, and then had a four-way with both my parents and Kate. To top that all off, cameras were filming everything in their bedroom. It was a lot to grapple with. One thing was for sure: this would take some getting used to. But really, I was OK with it all, more than OK. I was having the time of my life if I was being honest. I felt I should get a few things out of the way for appearance's sake.
"I can think of a couple," I said with a measured voice. "Are there any more cameras hiding around here?"
"No," Dad said quickly, chuckling. "We installed them in here, but that's it. We had considered putting them in several other places but were hesitant since they are communal areas. Of course, we may revisit that now; there is space for a sixth, as you can see."
"My only other question is for now is.........Um,.......how does this all work?"
"Well, it just does," Mom explained. "There aren't many rules, but respect and courtesy are important. Sex is fun, and the things we do are enjoyable. If everyone is on the same page, you can do whatever you want when you feel like it. We have been careful and responsible. We do not share our experiences with those outside our group. We expect you to do the same. Pretty easy, isn't it?"
I mulled it over for a second or two. It seemed straightforward. I could ask a dozen more questions off the top of my head, but keeping it short seemed to be the best thing for now. I could always get details from Kate later, which would be much easier.
"Sure, I can do that," I replied with a slow nod.
Standing up, my mother walked toward the bathroom.
"Great, I'm glad this all worked out," she sighed with relief. "There is always a little nervousness associated with something like this. You never know how people will react. Just remember, you can talk to us about anything, I mean anything."
"I'm fine with it, really," I said with a smile. "It's just going to take a little getting used to, but I'll keep that in mind."
"We all need a shower, so if you'll excuse us," Dad said, standing up, which Kate and I took as a cue our cue to break things up for now.
My sister stood up, and we headed into the corridor. As my parent's door closed, Kate approached me from behind, tapping me on the shoulder as I walked toward my bedroom.
"What's up?" I asked in a whisper, turning to face her.
"They aren't taking a shower right now," she said quietly, "Dad wants to watch the video of you fucking Mom. I'm surprised they didn't ask you to stay so he could see it live."
With that, my sister disappeared into her room.
I went in, flopped onto my bed, and fell asleep. Once awake, I rolled over to look at the clock. Realizing a few hours had passed, I got up, showered and dressed, then headed downstairs.
It was business as usual. Dad was in the living room watching the news. Mom was cooking dinner in the kitchen, and it smelled great.
"Stevie, how do you feel?" my mother asked as I approached her from behind.
"I feel great. It has been a long day. What is for dinner?" I inquired, peering into the skillet on the stove and seeing what looked like ground beef browning.
"It's Taco Tuesday, but on a Monday, honey! Everything should be ready in a half hour or so. Your sister is out by the pool."