Resetting My Bitch ButtonChapter 12
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Resetting My Bitch ButtonChapter 29 free porn video
Serendipity Park – Georgia
As told by Emily
Uncle Evil was playful about extracting women from the box. “Helpless and totally at my mercy!” he would joke, and then he might cop a quick feel, but he was never egregious about it. A few pony girls like Doris would invite him to feel them up a little more like it was a thrill. It was incredibly sassy and playful and not really that sexual.
Their legs were spread wide while they were locked inside the box. You could see inside their pussies. His favorite joke was, “It is what is on the INSIDE that counts, and your insides are pink and wet!” he would say. As disgusting as he was, I really liked Uncle Evil now.
Mike told me that in the 1980s, sexy games like this weren’t that out of place at a regular campground. I didn’t believe him, but he said that most of those old movies about summer camps featured teenage girls feeling each other up and boys peeking in their showers.
“We’d have them arrested for that,” I said.
“Yeah, times have changed. You only get the jokes you are supposed to get. If you aren’t mature enough to understand the punch line, you won’t get the joke at all. Uncle Evil doesn’t get too raunchy for these fun little lunch events. They are basically PG-13 rated. If you want to see raunchy, you should see his magic act. He pulled a rabbit right out of your mother’s ass,” Mike explained.
I wasn’t sure if he was joking or not. I didn’t ask to make sure.
When it was Barbara’s turn to get into the box, she made a big show about getting naked. She didn’t remove her horse’s tail from her ass. I think she didn’t want people to see her gaping asshole, and if she ever exposed it, people would see it was huge.
She didn’t seem to mind when people saw her bald pussy spread nice and pink for them, but she was definitely unwilling to remove her butt plug in front of anyone else.
Her husband threw a couple good shots when he went up there. I watched it while I ate lunch. She chided him for not trying to take the headshots. “Second place is still a loser, Michael!” she warned him as she clenched her teeth around the handle of the bucket in her mouth.
Stefan went up to throw on his mother, but she told him to go sit back down. “You can throw beanbags at me later! This is mommy’s competition,” she said.
Stefan looked dejected. He didn’t want to hit his mother with beanbags. He wanted to HELP her win the contest.
“Let the boy throw! Let the boy throw!” Uncle Evil challenged that as soon as he heard it and began chanting. Barbara rolled her eyes and acquiesced. She really didn’t have any choice in the matter.
People were drinking iced, cold beer, and laughing as they talked about the women’s bodies while they were exposed and locked in the boxes. I tried to snatch a beer and Mike totally caught me before I pulled it out of the ice. I didn’t watch Stefan’s throws, but he didn’t score any points. Barbara must have realized she’d seemed like a total bitch, so she told him in a very patronizing manner that he did his best and that she wasn’t mad.
She totally sounded mad though. She was hot, and I would have thought a lot of men would rush to be the one to throw bean bags at her just so they could look at her. I think they were intimidated because if they missed, she might hiss at them like a snake.
“You should go up there, Courtney,” I elbowed Courtney.
“Nah. What if I miss?” Courtney was reluctant to further fuck up her mother’s chance at winning.
I was about to explain that it was just for fun and nobody cared. To me it really didn’t seem like they were even keeping score. It seemed more like everyone except Barbara, and a few other Diva types were just having fun with this silly game. She wasn’t the only bitch in the stable.
One of the male ponies was angry that they don’t allow men to compete. “Half the events are female only,” he sighed. He sounded very effeminate. He told us his name was Rainbow Sparkle. That seemed to mean something to Stefan. It was from a cartoon they both watched. Rainbow Sparkle (Sparkle for short) even had a tattoo of the pony on his arm.
“Someone come up here and DO me.” With an obvious double-entendre Barbara offered to let someone throw bean bags at her. She was standing locked in place in a crate with her pussy split wide open and her boobs hanging out, her ass poking out the back of the crate and she was holding a bucket in each hand and one with her teeth. She should have been mortified in that situation yet she clearly wasn’t. She felt she looked like the star attraction even though there were other women in the same position.
As I watched her it occurred to me that I don’t think she even gave sex to her own husband unless it fit her agenda. I think she just liked to flirt so that guys would want her - so she could reject them and scoff at them. I’d seen her do it before.
Several girls who were boxed after she went into the box were already finished. Barbara was frustrated because she wasn’t used to being the last choice in anything, even if it was to have bean bags thrown it her. Uncle Evil tried to convince Master Lamont to throw. She was literally the last one left, and my mother was in the lead to win the contest.
He declined and sat back with his arms crossed like he was a King on his throne.
“You are the only black guy that doesn’t scare my mother,” Uncle Evil remarked wryly.
Lamont smiled slightly and nodded his head, but he remained seated with his arms folded.
“How about rocket arm?” Uncle Evil suggested I come up a second time and use her for target practice. Barbara scoffed. She knew I didn’t like her, and she didn’t like me. She was sure I would do nothing to help her win.
I fantasized about beaning her right in the face as hard as I could with all five of my bags. I wanted to stay seated and decline Uncle Evil’s offer, but he got everyone chanting my name, and I felt obliged to come up.
“It was just luck before,” I admitted. It really was. I’d never played this game before now and I had no particular skill at tossing little bags of beans.
“Well, this is as good a place as any to get lucky!” Uncle Evil chuckled at his own double-entendre.
I stepped up, and the first throw missed a far mile. Barbara scoffed and assumed I was going to just throw the game. I really was trying, though.
The next throw hit her between the tits and then landed inside the box.
“A titty bopper for one precious point!” Uncle Evil called out. He had been making quirky remarks the entire time, but since I was the only one throwing now, he provided a running commentary of my throws. When he put all his focus on me, everyone started watching and that made me nervous.
All of the attention on me was forcing adrenalin through my veins. I was aware that I was completely naked and standing in front of a bunch of people who were staring right at my butt. Barbara’s glare was making me afraid. I turned off my brain, shut my eyes, and lobbed the bean bag like I had before.
“Ba-shoom! And there you have it, friends! That is how it is done, nothing but net! Jiggle-jiggle-SWISH!” Uncle Evil announced joyously, and people cheered. I had thrown a 10 pointer right in the face bucket. I wished I hadn’t closed my eyes so I could see if I had banked it off Barbara’s pretty face.
If I had, she didn’t seem to mind. She smiled and looked more excited at being my target.
I threw the next one the same way, and this time I missed but it landed on top of the box.
“Oh, so close, but so far away! Judges will count that as one point!” Evil said.
“Who are the judges?” Barbara wanted to know.
“I am the Judge, Jury, and executioner. Well, I only execute on Sundays. What day is it?” he asked playfully and the game continued.
Barbara looked at me, pleadingly. I could yell that this game was so important to her and I had no idea why. I shut my eyes and tossed my second to last bag.
“Holy shit, she’s done it again! Ten points. Got the feeling, pistons popping, ain’t no stopping now!!!” Uncle Evil did a little dance and spun in a circle while clapping his hands.
I was so incredibly nervous that I threw the final bag a little wild. I thought it would never go in, and I watched it hit Barbara high on her forehead. It bounced off her hair and into the bucket -TEN POINTS!
“We have a wiener! I repeat WE HAVE A WIENER!” Uncle Evil announced that Barbara had achieved the highest score. “All-time high score! Emily! How does it feel to be going to Disneyland!!” Uncle Evil held an imaginary microphone in front of my face as the others applauded for me.
“I am actually going to DisneyWORLD,” I spoke into the imaginary microphone in his hand. I was so proud of myself and elated even though it was just a dumb game.
“You know you are talking into my hand, right?” Uncle Evil put his imaginary microphone back into my face to ask if I realized that with a deadpan sort of smart-ass comment.
“Yes, yes, I do,” I said into his imaginary microphone again and held my arms up in victory. I did a sort of ambling victory walk around the picnic tables at the conclusion of the game. Barbara was pissed because it took a little while to remove her from the wooden box, and I had stolen her thunder. She tried to join me on the victory walk, but the moment had passed.
“Thank you for helping me,” she grudgingly said to me when the attention stopped.
“No problem,” I shrugged like it was no big deal. I could have winked and told her she owed me for winning or something sarcastic, but I didn’t.
“I know I can be very high pressure and intense sometimes. I am working on that. I am sorry I was a bitch to you earlier,” she apologized. She said she was hyper-competitive, and I could relate. I told her that my mom brought that out in me sometimes too.
She said she didn’t know why she was obsessed with winning any competition she was in. “I was like this when I did women’s bodybuilding too!”
Pony Barbara was incredibly well built and athletic, but she was no bodybuilder. No wonder she quit. She was the hottest chick out here at the campground, but there wasn’t much competition for that honor. She could never compete with professional female bodybuilders.
“I am sorry I was a bitch to you as well. I should not have said the things I did, Anyone who raised good kids like Courtney and Stefan must be alright in my book,” I told her. I wasn’t kidding either. They were well-adjusted kids who had far fewer hang-ups and insecurities than any other kids I knew. That was my second apology in one day, and I actually meant that one too!
“You are right, they are good kids,” Barbara was totally nude except for her horsetail and her boots. She walked over to Stefan. I didn’t hear them talk, but it sounded like she apologized for not letting him throw the bean bag and then hugged him.
I felt all warm and fuzzy inside. It was an uncomfortable feeling that I wasn’t used to having. To me, it signaled weakness and that scared me. I would never be weak. It had been the first thing I’d ever learned from my mom, but at the same time, I felt a yearning for that feeling that I didn’t understand and it bothered me knowing I couldn’t have it both ways. I decided thinking about it was hurting my brain so I focused instead on Courtney.
Jessie spent a lot of time talking to Courtney and flirting with her that afternoon. She made it pretty clear she wasn’t interested in him in a romantic way. I was happy about that. She didn’t make it clear she was into me either but I didn’t put all my cards on the table and tell her I wanted to make out with her either.
We farted around in the woods and played like regular kids. It was strange how much fun it was to just kick back and do nothing. It was also amazing how, when everyone was naked, I stopped noticing so much. I was literally in some backwoods in Georgia, totally in the nude in the deep woods. I thought nothing of it other than how much I wished I had worn sandals.
That evening the next competition was another race. This time it was a speed race. The runners lined up two by two and Uncle Evil used his stopwatch to record their times.
“Wouldn’t it be more efficient to let them all race at once?” I asked Mike.
“Yeah, but then it would be over more quickly. This way, we get to watch a couple of tits bouncing up and down as they race to the finish line and when they are done, two more women line up and do it all over for us,” he joked.
I smacked him on the knee playfully.
My mother was racing against Pony Doris. They both wore leather harnesses, collars and tails but nothing else. This was the first time I’d seen Pony Doris barefoot and she walked on the balls of her feet as if she was already missing the heeled boots or the other special footwear that approximated hooves, I’d become used to seeing her in. “On your mark, get set, go!” Uncle Evil started the race.
In a flash, my mom started high-tailing it down the path. She ignored her tits bouncing and swishing, and her ass was totally flapping from side to side. She was sprinting just as fast as she could go, as if outrunning the cops. It was clear she was out for a win.
Pony Doris didn’t run nearly as fast although even though she jogged, her worn out tits also flapped on her chest in time with her butt. Pony Doris had claimed on a number of occasions that she was built for comfort, not speed and seeing her do her best to run just as fast as she could was inspiring to me.
Chastity raced against Daphne. “C’mon Titty!!” I yelled. I heard Jessie and Mike calling her that all the time. She lost, but not by much. She had really tried hard too, but her tits kept blocking her vision as they slammed against her chest and then her face, blocking her own vision. Chastity’s boobs were so big that they frequently hit her in the eye.
She smiled when she was done though and she had put in a good effort. I hoped Mike rewarded her for it.
The top four women with the best times and the top two men with the best times were chosen for the next competition. There were far fewer pony boys than there were women.
Each of them were paired up and had to pull a sulky together. Their hands were cuffed behind them, and they each grabbed one of the wooden shafts of a big wagon. My mom was paired up with Barbara. They were both strapped in together, and they had to act as a team to pull the wagon up an incline and then all the way to the gate. It was a lot of fun watching the competition.
I consoled Pony Doris for losing. “This seems like it would have been your jam!” I said to her. “You practice all the time, pulling a sulky!”
“Yeah, last year it was me and my daughter in law doing this event. Slow and steady wins the race,” she said.
“No, being faster than everyone else wins the race,” I reminded her. She called me a smarty-butt and popped me on the bottom playfully.
Later in the day I heard there was to be another sprint competition and I was confused. They hadn’t repeated any competition so far but this time I was assured it’d be a different kind of sprint.
These were to be the full livery sprints. Instead of naked girls wearing the minimum gear marking them as ponies, the contestants would be fully fitted out with what I learned was their best show gear. Some of these ponies looked like they’d spent the whole afternoon preparing for this single event. I knew that wasn’t really true because Pony Barbara for instance, hadn’t missed a single event but it certainly LOOKED like no effort had been spared.
There were a LOT of rules for this race and ponies were actually turned away for not meeting the minimum requirements. Only six ponies made the cut, whereas ten had come forward. I was sad to see that Pony Doris hadn’t even bothered entering. These were mostly the uppity ponies although my mom was among them.
As an example, footwear couldn’t be regular boots or shoes, and certainly no bare feet were allowed, which I later learned took my aunt out of the competition. Her feet were a size smaller than mom’s and Mike didn’t want her tripping and getting hurt while wearing the specialized footwear he’d brought along specifically for my mom.
It had to be a certain kind of boot that I couldn’t imagine myself walking in despite having seen both Pony Barbara and Pony Doris each sporting, just the day before. The closed toe was shaped like a horse’s hoof and there was no heel, although the shoe made its wearer a full six inches taller. The boots had to come up past the knee but allow the knee to bend. A few ponies had tassels or fur the same color as their hair adorning the rims of their boots.
The next requirement of the costume was that the pony be fitted with a full suit, although it didn’t seem to be a requirement that the suit cover the pony’s pussy, ass or boobs. There were quite a few of each sort on display and that surprised me. I thought that being at a nudist resort, everyone would want their privates to hang out. Uncle Evil whispered to me that the fully covered ponies had the biggest challenge in the Georgia sun with no, ‘air conditioning’, as he put it.
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