The Blue Life Ch. 08: Facing Nick

Dad immediately started sniffing at Mom's crotch, both her pussy and ass, like a dog.

Mom asked, "Do want water or juice in your bowl, Puppy?"

"Just water, Mistress."

"Run my corset back onto the bed. Then make sure your hands are clean, Puppy."

My father grabbed the corset and enthusiastically bounded out of the room.

I looked at Mom. "Has this been going on long?"

My mother carried dishes into the dining room. "Puppy training? For several weeks. There's a method to my madness, Bobby! Get the double dog bowl from under the sink. And fill one side halfway with room temperature water. Then bring it in here."

"Are you trying to humiliate Dad?"

"No, silly. He's being Foxxy Redd, but without all the hair and makeup. I've been working with him so that he can get into character with just the collar or tail."

"Why?"

"Because Foxxy is more aggressive than your father. And we'll need that. And if he stays in Puppy Mode for several hours, he will fuck my pussy raw later, without much coaxing at all."

I put the dog dish on the floor in the dining room.

"Is Foxxy another personality?"

"No. Your father remembers the game. Puppy is just a character."

My Dad came scampering back into the room. He certainly seemed peppier.

"Dad?"

"Yes, Bobby?"

"You seem happier, less worried about calling Uncle Nick."

Dad sat back on his heels. His feet were on the floor. He wasn't on his hands and knees. It looked more like the posture of a monkey. But he cocked his head to the side like a dog, and scratched behind his own ear, thinking. Finally he said, "Dogs don't have worries. They don't have jobs besides fetching and playing, eating, sleeping and fucking. It's a simpler place to be in my head. Sometimes when I'm in Puppy Mode, we don't even end up having sex at all. Mistress will sit on the couch and I'll put my head in her lap. And she'll stroke my head or rub my belly. It's relaxing."

My mother scooped some eggs onto her plate. She took two sausage patties, cut one in half and picked up the half sausage and held it down at her side, in an open palm. She whistled, and Puppy-Boy ate the sausage out of her hand, licking her palm. Mom pet Dad, then wiped her palm on her robe. Puppy got a drink out of his bowl, lapping like a dog. It was funny and odd, pretty much odd.

We ate mostly in silence. I wouldn't feed my Dad from my hands, but I sometimes tossed some scraps down in his dog dish. He wouldn't always lick them out of the bowl. Sometimes he would pick up his food and turn it over in his hands, like a raccoon or squirrel, before eating it. Foxxy Redd wasn't all dog. He's just not all human either.

At one point, Puppy was sitting by Mom, nuzzling her knee. Mom said, like it was nothing, "Puppy, do you want to lick my feet?" My Dad didn't say yes, just crawled under the table and started licking Mom's feet.

I tend to over-think things. But the scene was making me uncomfortable. And I realized that it was because I wasn't in charge. I wasn't directing the action. I finished my eggs and got up from the table. I rinsed off my dishes and put them in the dishwasher.

I came back in the dining room and asked Mom if she was finished. She said she was, so I scraped what was left from her plate into the dog dish, and put her plate and silverware in the dishwasher too. I put the pan Mom had used to cook the eggs into the sink to soak. By the time I got back into the dining room, Mom was gone and the Puppy-Boy was cleaning up the last of the scraps in the dog dish. My father, in a red thong and a dog collar, eating out of a dog bowl with his fingers, it was not a sexy sight.

"Where's Mom?"

"She went to change. She told me to finish up. Take my dish back into the kitchen. Wash my face and hands and then get the phone. She'll meet us in the living room."

"OK, Foxxy. You go wash up. I'll take care of your bowl and find the phone."

"Thanks, Sir." And Dad stood up and walked to the hallway bathroom.

I picked up Dad's dog-dish, washed it, rinsed it and put it away. I found the phone and brought it into the living room. Dad was sitting nervously upright on the couch, wearing his dog collar and red thong.

Mom came into the living room. She had fixed her hair, put it up with a clip. And she was wearing peep-toe white kitten heel sandals with a two inch heel. They were trimmed with black lace and a black, satin bow. She had on black silk stockings attached to the garters on her panties. She shrugged off her pink robe. Her panties came all the way up past her belly button, and the leg was not high on the hip. They were definitely a retro style. And Mom had on a matching black with pink polka dot bra. There was a tiny, pink satin bow between her breasts.

My father whistled. And Mom turned, and struck a pose with her back to us. She angled her hips and stuck out her butt slightly. She looked over her shoulder and asked the question, "Well, do you like my lingerie?"

My father said, "Oh Marjorie, you look like a supermodel. You're a work of art. Oh my! You've always been this beautiful and sexy, and I've just been an idiot for years and years." There were tears in his eyes.

Mom walked over behind Dad on the couch. She leaned over and kissed him on the top of the head. "I have never felt this beautiful before. So,I don't think I've ever been this beautiful, because I have never been this happy."

I came around behind my mother and hugged her. She pressed herself back into me twisted her head and kissed me.

My mother broke our kiss. "OK, Puppy. It's time to make the call."

"I'm very nervous. I've never stood up to Nicky. I've never been able to," my Dad said.

"What will help calm you, and help you focus, Andrew?" I asked.

My father closed his eyes, and thought for a second. "Mommy, will you come sit on my lap?"

"Sure, Puppy," Mom said, walking around the couch, and sat in Dad's lap. "Do you just need some snuggles, to know that you're loved?"

"Yes, Mommy. That's part of it. Thank you. Can I snuggle up your breasts too, Mommy?"

Mom looked at him sideways. "Loving up Mommy's titties is not going to distract you from calling your brother."

My father shook his head, "No, Mommy."

"Then let me make this a little easier, Puppy." My mother reached behind her, and undid the clasp on her bra. She shimmied her shoulders, and her bra fell forward down her arms. My father and I eyed the perfection of Mom's naked tits. Then we caught each other eyeing the same thing, with the same look of awe and lust. I winked at Dad, and he grinned broadly.

Then, a serious look came over his face. He look at me and said, "Master, could you do me a favor? There's a leash in the hall closet. Could you get it and put it on me?"

I nodded. I thought about it for a second. This was not my thing. I was used to being the sexual dominant in the house. And, although I had seen some of the doggie role play between my Mom and Dad over the past few weeks. It wasn't something I was into. But, Dad seemed to need this. So, I went and got the leash. It took me a little bit of time to find it, because I didn't know which shelf it was on. When I got back, my father was suckling at my mother's right breast, and caressing her left.

I clicked the leash onto my father's collar. My father looked up and me and said, "Thank you, Master. Mommy is giving me love and encouragement. It makes me feel braver. But I would also like you to be here to keep me in line with a firm hand on my leash."

I nodded. "Good Cop, Bad Cop." I looked at my father, and I said, "You like sucking Mommy's titties, don't you Slut-Puppy?"

"Yes, Sir. Of course I do."

"And you would get down on your knees and eat Mommy's cunt or ass right now if I gave you the chance."

"Yes, Sir. You would not have to tell me twice." My father was proud. Just a

few months ago, Dad might have imagined doing something like that, but he couldn't imagine his wife enjoying it.

"You don't eat pussy as well as your Master, Puppy. So, you need lessons. Do this phone call right, and I will give you those lessons."

"Thank you, Master. I will make the phone call now."

"I'm not done, Puppy Boy. You're a cock-hound too, aren't you?"

"I don't know what you mean?"

"I mean, you were very happy and proud to suck your son's cock and have him cum down your throat this morning. You got off on that. That gave you one of the biggest orgasms you've ever had," I told my Dad.

"Yes, Sir." My Dad smiled, but he also looked confused, liked he didn't quite understand what I was saying.

"Do you want to drink my cock-cream regularly, Puppy-Slut?" I asked.

My father looked at my mother, back and me, and then back at my mother. "Yes, Sir," he said, staring into my mother's eyes, trying to gauge her reaction.

"By ending this thing with Nick. You will be giving up nothing, Puppy. I will have you teach our Mistress how to suck cock, just like I'm going to teach you how to eat pussy. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Sir."

"And our Mistress will be teaching me how to suck cock too."

"What? Whose cock?" My father asked.

"Don't be an idiot, Puppy. On you, of course. And if you do this phone call right, we will begin training your ass so that I can be sure you and Jillian can handle me fucking your ass."

"Is that alright, Mistress?"

"Don't ask her. She's already fucked your ass with your own thin dick, Puppy. We are talking about you taking your son's much larger cock up that cute little ass of yours, Puppy-Slut. If you're lucky, our Mistress will make sure I don't go too fast. She will make sure you get as much pleasure as you give. But...", and I jerked his leash to emphasize my words, "If you chicken out on this call, or fuck it up and chicken out on dumping Uncle Nick, you will be sleeping in the bathroom until we get this right. You will be able to hear me pleasure your wife in your bed,as I take her pussy, mouth and ass. But, you won't get to see that. And you won't get to clean up. You won't get to cum! Your cock will be put into the Tormentor! That's what you'll get if you fuck this up." I gave his leash a tug to emphasize my seriousness.

My Dad swallowed hard, "That's a lot of pressure, Sir."

"That's because I know you can handle it, Puppy-Slut. If you get this phone call right, then you can spend a lifetime worshiping and serving your wife's pussy and your son's cock. You will get pleasures and experiences you have never imagined. But, fuck this up, and I swear, you can have Uncle Nick all to yourself. And I will cuckold you, Dad. I will take your wife. I will make sure she is happy and sexually satisfied. And you will get nothing."

"What do I say to Nick?"

"Tell him, 'Nick, I can't see you anymore. I'm never seeing you anymore again.' It's just that simple!"

My mother cut me off. "Bobby, hand me the phone," she said, "I'm going to dial and put the phone on speakerphone. I'll set it on the table. Puppy, that way, your Master and I can follow the conversation and keep you safe."

My father was shaking. My mother kissed him gently, trying to calm his nerves. I said, "Dad, Nick is a fat fuck. He smells and he has a gross, short, penis. He's abused you for more than half your life. And he's tortured Jillian. You aren't giving up anything. And he holds no power over you."

My father closed his eyes. My mother dialed the phone, turned it to speaker-phone then set it on the coffee table. She took my father's hands and place them on her breasts, to distract him. He started playing with her breasts, opened his eyes, and smiled. They kissed. The phone rang, six, then seven times. Finally, Nick's answering machine picked up. Damn! I wanted to get this done today!

"This is Nick McMillan. I'm sorry I'm not able to take your call. Leave a message at the beep." BEEP!

My father spoke, "Hey, Nicky. This is Andy. I need to talk to you. So, give me a call back at home-"

The phone picked up, somewhere outside Reno, Nevada, where my Uncle lives in a double wide trailer home. "Andy! I'm here. I'm just screening my calls. You never know who's going to call. You calling about our trip in three weeks? I was thinking we should save some money this time. We don't have to go to the Lodge. You can just tell Margie that's where you're going and come spend the week here with me. We'll save what you would have spent on my airfare and the rent on the Lodge. And then me and Jillian can go out and gamble what you save? If we come out ahead, you can have your nut back. And if we lose it all, it's still no skin off your teeth."

I shook my head. I could tell Mom was biting her tongue.

"Uhmm...No, Nicky. That's not going to happen," my Dad said.

"Sure! We've got time to cancel the tickets! It's not like your heart's set on the Lodge. We've bailed on that before."

"No, Nick," Dad insisted. I was proud of him. It was going pretty well.

"Hey, do you have me on speakerphone?" My Uncle asked. "You sound like you're down a well."

"You're on speakerphone," my Dad said. My father pinched my mother's nipples and pulled them. "My hands are kind of full right now, Nick." I snickered.

"Yeah, well, it almost sounded like you said, 'No,' to me. Remember, Rule Number One: 'Little Brothers don't get to say, No!'"

"I remember, Nick. I remember a lot of stuff. And I said, NO!" There was an edge to my father's voice.

"OK. OK! We'll meet at the Lodge! No big deal. You'll bring the tackle box and some nice clothes and we'll have fun."

"No, Nicky. No tackle box. No lodge. No Jillian. No vacations."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying, 'It's over.' No more vacations. No more sex. No more money. No more lying to my family."

"Ah, Andy. You've made noises like this before, like, what was it, twenty years ago? Just after you got married. Remember what happened then?"

"I actually have no memory of that, Nick. That's part of the problem."

"Well, you didn't have as much fun as I did that year. You were screaming and crying. And you got pretty banged up. And you also made me some pretty big promises."

"I honestly don't remember, Nick."

"I've got pictures, Andy. I've got video. I've got pictures of you and Jillian. Do you think your prissy little wife could love you, if she found out you're a freak? You're a cock-sucking Femme-Boy Whore, Andy! That repressed little bitch would have a seizure if she ever found out."

"She knows, Nicky. She knows and she loves me. And if you ever talk about my wife like that again, you will have more to worry about than just fishing trips and money."

"Oh, big talk from the Pussy-Boy. Your wife doesn't know shit. You didn't tell her about the doctors, or the Glory Holes. You didn't tell her about how I pimped out Jillian in Vegas to that Bachelor Party! You didn't tell her how fucking sick and unlovable you are."

My mother looked at me. There was intense hatred in her eyes. I mouthed the words, "Glory Holes?" And made a face.

My father screamed, "Shut the fuck up, Nick! I'm done. We are done. Here is what you get, and I'm being generous. You get the Trailer you've been living in since your wife divorced you. That's yours. You get two weeks severance pay, because I'm taking you off the Company Payroll. You've never worked for that money anyway. I'm still going to keep making your child support payments, because Lord knows you're never going to do it, and Becka and Markus should not have to suffer because their Dad is a complete shithead!"

"You can't do that to me, Andy. We're family. What am I going to live on?" Uncle Nick was whining.

"Take out an equity loan on the trailer. It's paid for and in your name, Nick"

"Yeah, I did that two years ago. I've blown through that money already, Andy."

"Jesus, Nicky! How stupid can you get! No more! You get nothing else from me. It's over!"

"I'll tell Bobby that his Dad's a fucking gay-wad. I'll show him the pictures."

"Anything you tell Bobby, I will make sure Becka and Markus find out the same, Nick."

"Then I'll go to your company's Board of Directors, Andy! I'll go to your investors. You just expanded the business. How many of your clients will want to be working with a Femme Boy Whore like you?"

My father pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. He didn't know what to say.

My mother spoke up. "Nicholas? This is Marjorie."

There was a long silence at the other end of phone. Then a tentative, "Margie? Hey, Andy and I were just talking about our fishing trip. We're leaving in three weeks for the Lodge. And-"

My mother cut him off. "Nicholas. There won't be any more trips. You will leave my husband, my family, and my husband's business alone. Do you understand me?"

"How much did you hear, Margie," Nick said, "Because I can explain."

"Nicholas McMillan, there will be no explanations. Once this phone call ends, we will never hear from you or speak to you ever again, do you understand? Because if we do, the recording of this phone call, plus other records, photos and documents I have collected will be turned over to the FBI. Blackmail is a crime, Nicholas. And you have been Blackmailing my husband for years."

"That's not how it's been, Margie-"

"It's been much worse than that, Nicholas. If you come near my husband, you will go to prison. I will make sure of it."

"You can't make that happen, Margie." Nick's voice sounded not so sure.

"I can give you the number of Goggins and Wasika. They are the Law Firm that is handling this for us. They can send you copies of some of the evidence by mail or by email. You will see that I'm serious. But there's more."

"Look, Margie. This is a brother thing, just between Andy and me."

"There is more, Nicholas. I'm teaching Jillian how to shoot a gun."

"You can't give that psycho bitch a gun! That would be fucking crazy! What are you saying?"

"I'm not saying anything, Nicholas. This conversation is being recorded. The last time I saw you was at your Father's funeral, four years ago. You made a pass at me. You groped me in the cloak room at the mortuary."

Nick laughed. "I was pretty drunk, Margie."

"Yes, you generally are, Nicholas. But that won't happen ever again. Because you will miss your mother's funeral, whenever that happens. You will also miss your son's and daughter's weddings too, if we are invited. Because we will NEVER see you or hear from you again, Nicholas. And Nick, you had better destroy any photos and videos you have of my husband. If you publish them to the Internet or attempt to distribute them in any way, I will know, and you will be very sorry."

"I never knew you were this much of a bitch, Margie," Nick snarled.

"And I never knew you were this much of a sadistic, pathetic, spineless turd, Nicholas McMillan. Come near my husband again, and the Law will take you out, that is, if Jillian and I don't get to you first."

"Is that a threat, Margie?"

"That is a promise, Nicholas. Oh, and Nicky? Don't drive your truck until you get the brakes repaired. I would hate to see you at your funeral anytime soon."

"What are you saying, Margie?"

"I'm saying, good-bye, Nick. Talk to me, Andrew or Robert again, and you won't like what happens. That is a promise."

"Margie, you can't tell me what to do!"

"Get your brakes checked, Nicholas," my mother warned.

"Andy, are you gonna be a pussy, and let your wife talk to your brother like that?" Nick was shouting from his end of the phone.

My father was smiling, a broad smile. "Yes, Nicky! I am! Good-bye, Nick. I'll see you at your funeral."

"What the fuck, Andy!"

I had to pipe in, "Good-bye, Uncle Nick. Don't give me a reason to call Becka and Markus, you creepy, fat fuck!"

The voice at the other end of the line said, "Bobby? Is that you? Little Bobby? Hey-"

My father reached for the phone. "Good-bye, Nick," he said again. And he hung up the phone. My father collapsed onto the couch. His whole body was shaking. At first I thought he was sobbing. Maybe he was. But he was laughing too.