Liberty Summer Ch. 11

CHAPTER 11: From Action Items to Garlic Soup for the Soul.

(C) 2023 by Ted Ursi/TeddySmutWriter, all rights reserved.

~~~~^~~~~*~~~~^~~~~*~~~~^~~~~*~~~~^~~~~*~~~~^~~~~*~~~~^~~~~

"Good morning!" I walked into the kitchen Tuesday morning. I was wearing my number one butt plug, my first kegel ball, a pencil in a bun in my hair and the black pumps I'd bought Saturday. I had a legal pad scrawled with action items in my hands. I placed it on the breakfast table beside my usual spot and sat. Mom and Dad, who were dressed for work, went cross-eyed trying to read upside down. Good.

"Got your duckies all lined up?" Greg asked. He was wearing an apron and his intermediate plug. I guess he had the midday shift at the pool today. "You know what you're missing Sis?"

"What Bro?"

"Sexy black glasses."

"Oh the curse of being twenty twenty," I said to the heavens, back of my hand to my forehead. "Daddy, I have a knotty problem."

"Yes Rusty?"

I explained about the micro bikini bottoms I'd bought yesterday and how I intended to alter them per Conrad's suggestion.

"I can think of two ways off hand, one simple, one fancy. I'll probably come up with three more before I get home." Rope Top Engineer Dad said. "May I have an exemplar?"

I pulled out my pencil and made a check mark on my pad next to 'G-string mod.'

"Anything else we can help you with Dear," Mom asked.

"Oodles Mom." I looked at my pad. "I've never worn heels for a long period... I plan to practice but I wanted to get some tips from you."

"Stairs dear," Mom said. "Practice on the stairs. Especially going down. In flat shoes people often come down stairs with their toes a bit over the edge without even thinking about it. If you're not careful in heels the whole ball of your foot could slip over, your heel will catch, and you'll tumble. Especially with soles of formal shoes often being so smooth. The hand rail is there for a reason Dear, use it."

"Good to know Mom!" I wrote STAIRS next to TRAINING: HEELS. I looked at TRAINING: ANAL, TRAINING: ORAL (TOY?) and TRAINING: VAG. I thought I had those all in hand except I needed something smaller than Midnight for practice with but I really really really didn't have the funds. Nor did I want to bum something from Mom.

Greg put a plate beside me with eggs, sausage and home fries. He shamelessly looked over my shoulder at my action items. He said, "You already have the toy you need."

I was hoping he wasn't thinking about his lovely penis. That would escalate things from helping out only when needed to regular play partners. I felt that would be bad for both of us. We needed to focus outwards. I asked, "Umm... what Greg?"

"Try the largest plug in your kit," He said. "It should be long enough to help you work on your gag reflex."

"Thanks Bro, I'll give that a try." I looked at Mom. "But you were right about girth being the issue Mom."

"Mother knows best Dear." She gave a little cat smile. "But deep throat isn't the be all end all of a good blowjob."

"Yes Mom," I said. "I know that. I just like to challenge myself."

"We know that Dear," Mom said. "Oh boy do we know that."

Dad said, "You get that from your Mom."

Mom looked at him. "You get that from both sides, a double dose, of it."

I looked at another one of my action items. "Speaking of challenges, Dad, when are you going to tie me up?"

Dad said, "With all you have going on right now Rusty? Really?"

"Yes really."

"No time like the present," Dad sighed. He looked at his watch. "Go and get that thong you wanted me to look at, I'll be right back."

"You don't have time for a scene Dear," Mom said. She turned to me and murmured, "This isn't like him."

"None of us are like who we were two weeks ago Mom," Greg said and then kissed the top of her head as he refilled her coffee.

I got up to do as Dad requested but Mom grabbed my arm. "Don't run in those heels."

I slipped them off and sprinted for the stairs. I made it to my room, grabbed the first pair of bikini bottoms I could in the drawer, ran back downstairs and was sitting demurely in my black pumps when Dad walked back in with a disappointingly small coil of rope. "Clear the table Greg."

Greg grabbed my half finished plate from in front of me. Mom did her part by picking up her 'LOOK AT ME SELLING HOUSES AND SHIT' coffee mug.

"Up you go Rusty." Dad tapped the table top. "We're going to test you for jute sensitivity and to see how long rope marks last."

I pushed my pad aside and climbed up on the breakfast table to sit provocatively leaning back on my arms, knees up and spread. Greg was leaning against the sink. Mom was sitting right there within kissing distance of my left thigh.

"I have to go to work in just a minute," Dad said. "So I need you to pay close attention Rusty."

"Yes Dad."

"Get out your phone. Set a timer for thirty minutes."

As I did that Dad did zipper like tie on my calf just below the knee. The first loop was fairly loose, just tight enough to hang like a knee garter on the top of my calf muscle. The rest were tighter, compressing the tissue underneath. When he was done he said "Pull the loose ends hard and this should come right off."

Dad tucked a pair of EMT scissors into the side of his tie. "If it jams up, use these to cut the rope. Are you feeling any itch?"

I looked into the eyes of Android Dad and said, "No Dad."

"If it starts to itch or turn red, take it off. Got that??"

"If itchy or redness, take it off."

"If your leg feels numb, take it off."

"If numbness, off."

"Tell me how you take it off."

I touched the loose rope ends. "Pull these two here and if that fails use the shears."

"Good girl." He kissed my forehead. "When the timer beeps take the rope off and send me a picture of your leg."

"Will do." I almost made a mock salute.

Dad picked up his laptop case and walked out the door. Soon there was the expected vroom vroom from the garage.

"Holy shit Case," Greg said. He pointed at the table just below my pussy. My action items list lay there with a quarter sized wet spot.

"Now you know why I don't like to be tied," Mom said. "He's all sexy and commanding and you want to be taken but he can't and then when you're done all that domineering goodness goes away and he becomes almost a babbling idiot."

Mom sighed and put down her mug. She kissed my thigh and stood. "I gotta go too."

Presently her car departed with less fanfare.

I sat on the table playing with my pussy.

"You're turning me on doing that," Greg said. "Bit of a role reversal for us, no?"

"Yeah, I'm the one being left high and not so dry," I said. "And I appreciate the implied offer but we have to be careful not to start finding excuses to 'help each other out.'"

"Yeah, Case, I know. But it's not really about our physical state, is it? It's about the loneliness." Greg pulled off his apron. He was maybe a third erect. He walked over and kissed my shoulder. "I'm going to load the dishwasher and you just go ahead."

So I got myself off while my brother puttered around the kitchen. It was so sweet feeling his companionship radiating from his back as he worked. I pictured it like angel's wings. After a nice little orgasm I checked the timer. Still about ten minutes.

I went up stairs—carefully in my heels—and got my large trainer plug. I eased it in to my mouth to see if Greg had been right. My index finger is three inches. When I shove it into my mouth I can barely feel the gag reflex start to respond. This plug says 'four inches insertable' so it definitely triggered me. Not only did the long tapered tip tease at the opening of my throat but the fat bulb in the middle filled my mouth, magnifying the feeling of potential choking by a factor of... fuck if I know. I did a couple of slow breaths through my nose. Perfect.

Talk about your multitasking! I had test rope on my leg, a kegel weight in my pussy, a butt plug in my ass and a larger one in my mouth teasing at the opening of my esophagus. Nothing for it but to practice walking in heels up and down the stairs.

I didn't count how many rotations I did when the timer went off. I sat down in the middle of the landing halfway up the stairs and pulled the loose ends of rope. The tie popped off no problem. The EMT shears thumped onto the carpet. The marks on my leg, matching the twist pattern of the rope, were vivid. I ran my fingers over them in awe. Yes that was me all bumpy like. I considered taking an arms length selfie with my pussy in the shot but decided against. Did I really want to start sexting my dad? I took a closeup of my leg instead.

ME: Pretty! No itching or numbness. (smiley face)

DAD: Great. Take another picture in an hour.

ME: Okay Dad (thumbs up emoji)

I set the timer on my phone for an hour. I picked up the little bit of rope and toyed with it. It was about twelve or fifteen feet long. I knew most of Dad's ropes were longer and of some standard size. I also noticed that he used them doubled up. I'd seen that much watching Mom's punishment last week. The one biggest thing I knew about rope play was that I didn't know shit. I planned to do a whole bunch of research on the internet but I had so many other priorities right now.

I wrapped the rope around my waist and tied a bow. I tucked the safety scissors in front like a dagger. Then I went back to practicing on the stairs.

In a bit I felt I had the hang of it. Or that I wouldn't benefit from more practice today. I went about the house doing chores, sorting, folding and putting away laundry. I imagined myself a naked slave in a palace, available for use by anyone from the stable boy to the king. I'd be such a good slave, taking them all on with a friendly smile and greeting them all by name because I didn't actually think of myself as their slave, they were all my unwitting harem. I spent half the morning in this lovely reverie,semi-aroused.

When the timer went off I took the picture and sent it. The rope marks had faded somewhat but not much.

Greg was busting his ass with weights down in the basement. I didn't want to distract him. It made me realize it had been too long since I had gotten serious exercise. I divested myself of all the kinky shit and put on regular exercise things: cotton panties, sports bra, track shorts, Grandpa Clarke's marine T because I'd been neglecting it since I sleep raw now, and my best running shoes with no-shows.

It's about three miles from our house to the Station News. I took my time getting there. I'm not dumb enough to think I can make up for lost time pushing hard. That way led to bad things.

The shop was just opening up when I got there. The parking lot was empty except for the Wegner Rav 4. A woman in a Joe Cocker T-shirt was behind the counter. She had short, faded blonde hair and a septum ring. She was also wearing a wide black leather collar.

"Hello," I said. "Is Bill Wegner in?"

"You must be Casey... Casey Clarke?" She stuck out a silver nailed hand. "Chilli, Bill and I are partners in this shit show."

"My mom has a collar," I said. "Hers is metal."

"'Has a collar' or 'is collared?'" Chilli asked. "There are a lot of people wearing collars who aren't collared. Poseurs. That fucking book."

"Definitely 'is collared' I said."

"Bill!" Chilli called. "That girl you've been lusting after is here!"

She winked at me. "Did you really admit to being a slut in front of the whole shop?"

Bill emerged from the back room holding a cordless drill. "I lust after all the gir—Casey!"

He approached and looked uncertain, like he wanted to give me a hug. I practically threw myself at him. My chin could rest easily on his head. I said, "Aren't we a sweaty pair."

"Doing some sweat equity in back. Come see."

"Said the spider to the fly," Chilli said.

I locked eyes with her. She gave me a slow wink.

Bill and I went back. A heavy gold and black curtain now hung from a steel cable across the opening to the back room. Inside the studs were now covered in unfinished drywall. The floor had the same vinyl covering as the rest of the store but newer. Seeing the power tools, the sawdust and sawhorses, and the half two by four framing already in place, I cleverly deduced Bill was building a low platform at the far end.

"Your Dad came by Sunday. We talked. You didn't say he was KinbakuJack."

"That's because I didn't know he was KinbakuJack." Holy shit.

"Anyways I got the hard points in, just need to find a bar." He pointed to a ceiling joist with two very heavy shackles had been installed. "Bamboo would be ideal but getting a piece to spec is iffy. You never know what will show up on the delivery truck."

"Everything is moving so fast," I said. "Really I just dropped by to window shop a little."

"How goes your training?" He was just a little too casual with that question.

My face lit up. "Had all my holes stuffed this morning walking around in the buff trying to get used to high heels 'cause I got that job dancing."

"Congratulations!" he said. "Chilli danced back in the day."

"And I did what you suggested," I said.

"What?" He looked confused.

I reached down and pulled off my running shoe off, then my no show. I leaned back against a sawhorse and held up my foot. "See?"

Bill stared at my foot. His jeans were bulging slightly. I had reasoned on my way over here that Bill had noticed and commented on the sad state of my toenails because he liked to look at girls' feet. Judging from his reaction I was correct. I poked his bulge with my big toe.

Bill took ahold of my foot. "French nails are a fave."

His obsession didn't keep him from noticing the rope marks. He turned my leg slightly. You could even see a bit of the impression left by the EMT shears. I said, "A quick test tie by my dad."

Chilli stuck her head through the curtains. "Customer in the shop, the church lady, try to keep it down."

Her hand flicked through the gap and a gold foil packet hit Bill in the chest. "You forgot this."

With my foot still in Bills surprisingly strong grip, I bent and picked up the condom. "I think Chilli and I agree the best way for you to get me out of your system is for you to fuck me."

"What about you and yours?" Bill asked. He was giving my foot one hell of a massage.

"Mmm... What do you mean?"

"If your father walked in and saw us, what would he say?" Bill asked. "I need to keep in good relations with him."

"My dad would apologize for interrupting and express approval for the condom." I stuck the gold package between my toes.

"Really?" His hands seemed to be on autopilot as we conversed. This was not his first foot rub rodeo.

"Really," I said. "The family philosophy is that, if we're going to explore sexually, it's best to do it openly and as safely as possible. I'm expected to make mistakes so I can learn from them."

"That's very enlightened," Bill said. "Am I?"

"Are you a mistake?" I asked. "You're an older man who I'm hoping will ring my bells with your experience."

"A girl like you comes along once in a lifetime for some men, never for most," Bill said. He took the condom pack from my toes and tucked it in the pocket of his T. "Other foot please."

I put my bare foot down and felt the dirt and sawdust scrunch up under my arch as I squirmed it about to find solid footing. I lifted my other foot up, looking at him all wide eyed and sexy. Bill took my foot and lovingly removed my running shoe and sweaty no show sock. Bill started back into rubbing me the right way and continued his point, "Guys are going to fall in love with you a lot. I mean it. Some will become obsessed, dangerously so."

"Ahhh... I think I'll be able to deal—"

"I'm talking John Hinkley Jr. obsessed." The name was vaguely familiar, something in the news recently....

Don't you hate when, in the middle of getting a sexy foot rub from an older man, you end up with a homework assignment planted in your brain? How the fuck do you respond? I said, "forewarned is forearmed."

Bill was looking around the room. He stood me up and said, "Watch where you step, there's nails and shit."

He led me to the platform. It already had one thick sheet of what Grandpa Clarke had called OSB nailed down. Bill grabbed a piece of fabric matching the curtains on the doorway and folded it into a Casey's butt sized pad. So thoughtful. Smiling, I took it from him to sit on. I pulled off my shorts and panties together and set them aside. I leaned back and brought a big toe to the fly of his jeans. "I want you to be my first foot job, but I also want you in me."

"Far be it for me to disappoint a lady," he said.

Bill dropped his jeans. He was commando. His dick wasn't long but it was chubby. His balls were huge. All of his package was nestled amidst copious black and gray pubic hair.

"Those are some cajones you got there partner," I drawled. I could not resist reaching up with both feet to play with them. Bill's face got ecstatic as I did. His cock grew before my eyes. I rested one foot against his thigh and ran my big toenail up along the underside of his shaft. Then I tried to grab the head with the gap beside my big toe. Nope. But I could sorta stroke him with the gap. I did that for a while.

"Keep that up and I'll come," Bill said.

"Can't have that," I said. I sat up and grabbed him with my hand, giving him a slow hard squeeze. I kissed the head of his dick. "Not before I get to taste this bad boy."

I grabbed his dangling balls like a gym rope and pulled him forward into my mouth. I stuck out my tongue beneath the shaft until I felt his hairy balls. The head went in the girth definitely challenged my gag reflex even though his length barely hit the back of my throat. Excellent. I proceeded to do the slurpy slurpy and gaze up at him wantonly. But again, this was just a prelude to the big test. I pulled back off him and said, "Wrap that rascal."

With practiced ease Bill ripped open the condom pack with his teeth and rolled the contents out onto his cock. "Lie back."

I did and Bill knelt. He spread his knees as wide as his jeans allowed to get down to my level. I mean wide. His balls must have been brushing the floor. I know his belt buckle did because it clanked when it hit. Bill paused to pull his belt free from his jeans. When he had started that process I had both feared and hoped he would use it on me. But he just tossed it aside with an apologetic shrug.

One rough thumb probed my opening, testing my wetness, but also getting lubricated, before finding it's way to my clit. Nice. No, definitely not his first rodeo.

Then he was in me. No he didn't go in very far but the girth of him spread my opening nicely. His pumps were short but adequate to the task. Experience had taught him exactly his limits and he stayed within them. He never slipped out once. I felt myself doing a nice barefoot shuffling up an autumn leaf strewn path in dappled sunlight.

Then Bill brought a second thumb to assist the first working my clit. My eyes went wide.

"Guys fucking you might not be enough to get you off," he said. "Many won't know you need a little help. You should get a nice little bullet vibe like your friend. Just saying."

Really? In the middle of fucking me he was making a sales pitch? I put a foot on his shoulder and gave him a gentle kick.

Bill turned his head and started sucking on my toes. Holy fuck! Have you ever had your toes sucked while being fucked? You'd think it'd just be a 'whatever gets you off dude' thing but it's not. At least not for me. Involving another erogenous zone, especially a newly discovered on, sent me dancing up that path kicking bright red and yellow leaves all about. I moaned from deep in my belly. I came.

It was a nice comfortable belly full of perogies orgasm. Sufficient unto the day.

When my cunt stopped its trembling around Bill's cock he reached down and secured the end of the condom as he pulled out of me. He peeled it off and cast it in the general direction of a nearby bucket. He backed off and grabbed my ankles, putting my feet together around his still rampant erection. I turned my ankles in to make a foot-pussy from my arches. Bill fucked my feet with frenetic energy. I knew he wouldn't take long.