It was the bottom of the ninth in the high school championship game -- bases loaded with my team down by three. I was up to bat. The stands were filled with students and teachers from my school as well as my mother and sisters. All eyes were on me as I walked towards the batter's box, tapping the bottom of my cleats a few times with the bat for luck.
I really don't know if I was drunk from adrenaline or what, but a feeling of "fuck it!" went through my mind, and I stripped down -- balls-out naked right there! Okay, not totally naked but close.
A deafening silence hushed the crowd and players, and every eye seemed to be as wide as a saucer. My jersey, undershirt, pants and jock strap hit the dirt, and I stepped confidently into the batter's box wearing just a ball cap, socks and cleats -- my chest, nipples, back, cock, balls and ass soaking up the sun. I bent my knees and raised my bat, circling it menacingly above my head. "Bring it on, bitch," I mouthed as I glared at the pitcher. In a flash, the silence turned into a roar as every female stood and applauded her support for my unabashed nudity.
My buddies on the bases -- Kyle, Mike and Zach -- seeing the reaction of the babes, did the unthinkable -- they followed my lead and stripped down to just a cap, socks and cleats, leaving their clothes in the dust. Now, every female in attendance had in her sight four 18 yo male bodies totally exposed -- hairy Mike with his thick black bush and furry ass he won't manscape, Kyle with his fleshy tubular foreskin we make fun of mercilessly, and Zach with his donkey dick and low hangers.
I tuned out the roar of the crowd and the looks of pride on the faces of my mom and sisters as the ball whizzed in my direction. SWING! HIT! A line drive that bounced between the center and left fielders!
As dudes in uniforms fumbled to retrieve it, my naked teammates and I ran as fast as we could around the bases, our cocks and balls slapping against our thighs -- moving right, left, right, left. As I stepped hard on home plate, I pumped my fists in the air in triumph. Our bullpen cleared, and we hugged as a team, jumping up and down, dousing each other with Gatorade.
After a few minutes of revelry, I peeled off. Every eye was on me again as I walked naked to the stands, got down on all fours, lowered my head and began kissing the feet of my mother and sisters. My mother pulled my erect penis back between my legs, showing it to the girls in the crowd, and stroked it up and down.
"THANK YOU, MISTRESS!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. "PLEASE PUNISH IT, MISTRESS!" My mother grabbed my balls with her other hand and twisted them as hard as she could. "AAAARRRGH! THANK YOU, MISTRESS! PLEASE HARDER, MISTRESS!"
"WAKE UP, SLAVE!" Allison barked. "You overslept!"
"Whaaaat?!" I asked groggily, rubbing my face in an attempt to orient myself. I was lying naked on my bed with Allison standing in the doorway of my bedroom, the door having been removed long ago. A thick glob of semen oozed from my dick head across my left thigh. "I'm sorry, mistress," I said. "What time is it?"
"Seven ten. Eat that," she replied, pointing to my cum, "and then come down quickly and make breakfast for us before you're late for school."
"Now, mistress?" I asked.
"Yes," she said. "I want to watch."
My sister looked particularly hot this morning in a crop top, shorts and one of my baseball caps. She wasn't wearing a bra, and her nipples looked hard, making me wonder if she witnessed my dick firing off a nocturnal emission as I slept. I scooped the semen into my mouth, grimaced, and then opened my mouth to prove I swallowed it.
"Good slave boy," she said. "You need protein to grow your muscle big and strong." She smiled, turned and left.
I think she meant muscles. In any case, I felt a twinge of sexual excitement at what just happened, jumped out of bed and darted to the kitchen. Being late for school meant a visit to the principal, Mrs. Edwards, who had spanked my ass red one time too many.
Just the night before, I had explained to my mother and sisters everything that happened to me on my date with Betsy, although I didn't tell them about eating Mr. Berda's cum or our agreement for me to introduce him to my dates which I knew I wouldn't honor anyway. I also said I had no idea who Goddess was -- only that she seemed intent on controlling me -- and this didn't seem to bother them. "Do they know who she is?" I wondered.
School that day was uneventful. Home that afternoon was not.
When I got back to my house, I stripped naked on the back porch, my preferred location since it's more private, stepped inside and got on my knees, waiting for permission to move.
"Look who's here!" I heard my mother yell happily from the living room.
"Oh god! Not grandma!" I thought, suddenly mortified.
In probably the most unexpected turn of events in all of human history, my mother strolled into the kitchen with my DAD trailing behind her -- buck naked, down on all fours, with a black leather studded dog collar fastened around his neck and a leash tethered to his nuts! His dick was rock hard and leaking a trail of precum on the floor below him like a guide for him to follow on his return. Seeing his throbbing hardon made mine subside.
And then there was my MOM! She was wearing a starched white blouse, black leather miniskirt and black leather boots that came up above her knee. Her usually disheveled and mousy brown hair was dyed jet black and cut into a fierce bob. She looked stunning... and commanding.
"What?! The?! Fuck?!" I wondered. I literally had no idea what to say. My dad, who lives in a different state, crawled over to me (my mother keeping the leash on his cum bags taut), gave me a bear hug, which was nice but totally awkward since we were both naked and he was hard and drippy, and then sat back on his butt at my mother's feet like a well-trained pit bull, smiling from ear to ear.
Just so you know, my dad is a beer-swilling, backslapping construction worker, not the kind of guy you'd picture collared and leashed. He's also got a good build and definitely where I got my genetics.
"What's going on? What happened to your hair? Are you two getting remarried?" I asked, spitting out the first things I could think of. I also wondered why he was naked, collared and leashed, since I didn't know he was a sub, but it seemed stupid to ask given that I was kneeling naked, too.
"Hahaha! No!" my mother said, petting my dad's head. "We were never divorced."
So here's what I learned. My parents met when she was in college, and he was pumping gas. He was crazy about her killer body, intelligence and upward mobility and she was equally crazy about his muscles and simplistic view of things. Yet, she had no interest in following his gym-obsessed, party boy, kinda-dumbass lifestyle, so she agreed to marry him only if he agreed that she would be in total and absolute control of him. Not surprisingly, it was rocky for a while as he rebelled against the steady reduction of his ability to make even the most basic decisions for himself (what he wore, who he befriended, when he masturbated). And her punishments, like being spanked, were a particularly hard pill to swallow. Yet, over time, they settled into a pattern he came to not only accept -- but need. Even his parents thanked her for taming him.
And then they had my sisters and me.
It all worked for a while until we started to become self aware, and my mother decided he needed to move out. Not that his opinion mattered, but he understood her decision to not raise us seeing a male acting as an equal -- a role model she did not approve of in her female-centric mind. But once I turned 18 and admitted my interest in being a slave (thanks to my idiot sisters), the time was perfect for us to be the family they always wanted. It's actually a heartwarming story in a Walt Disney meets the Marquis de Sade kinda way.
"Is he moving in?" I asked.
"Yes. Today"
"Where will he sleep?"
"In the slave quarters."
"My room?! But it's the smallest room in the house and the only one without its own bathroom! Why can't he sleep in a doggy crate in the garage?!"
"HEY!" my father roared. "Apologize to your mistress immediately!"
My heart was pounding in my chest, and I felt like I would hyperventilate and maybe cry. It really wasn't about the room. I was just used to having my mother and sisters micromanage the fuck out of me, and I worried they'd ease up with him around. Also (and I'm embarrassed to admit this) my dad's boner was definitely bigger than mine which revived my concerns that my dick really IS small. Why would my mom and sisters want to play with my penis with his stupid meat stick hanging there like that?
I crawled over to my mother and licked her sexy boots while begging for forgiveness, which made my erection come back. In fact, I licked her heels harder than I ever had, partly cause she looked so crazy hot, and my dad smiled his approval. I then glanced up to see if my mom was happy with me and I THINK I caught a glimpse of her pussy shaved silky smooth!! I'm not sure, but I think she was giving me a look to help ease my fears. Now I too was dribbling precum onto the floor as I tried to snapshot that image in my mind.
"I'm so happy to have both of my slaves under the same roof," my mom purred as she knelt down and used both hands to massage my penis and his at the same time. When she left, we both kinda laughed at the "like father, like son" moment.
"Your mother still has an unbelievable body," he said to me wistfully. I nodded and wanted to say that I think I saw her pussy but didn't.
Throughout the day, my dad and I carried in his belongings, including a single bed for him, into my room, which was already pretty cramped from my single bed. We talked a lot about school and baseball, which was awesome. On one hand, I often fantasized my dad would live with us again. On the other hand, I never imagined it happening quite like this. But ultimately, we both adjusted fine. And privacy certainly wasn't an issue for my dad and me in my room, since we were both always naked, and neither of us was allowed to jerk off. I came to really enjoy the conversations we'd have at night after a long day of school, sports and slave chores.
"You fucked a pussy yet?" he asked me out of the blue as we lay in the semi dark.
"Yea," I said proudly, getting a good feel for his easy-going, party boy mentality versus my mother's sexy need for control. "A cheerleader named Betsy. It just happened, actually. At her parents' house. Blond hair. Blue eyes. Perfect tits. We did it like six times in a row." If he didn't believe me, he didn't say anything.
"Did your mother and sisters give you permission?"
"Sort of," I said. He didn't press the issue but basically reminded me where he came down on decision-making.
After a few minute pause, I said, "You?"
"Me what?"
