The Family Feud III

Chapter Twenty-Four
“The Spanker in the Rye”

STAR COUNT:
WENDY: 36
Get out of jail cards: 1
WHORE: 0,0,0,0,0
JAMIE: 39
Get out of jail cards: 1
WHORE: 0,0,0,0,0

"Among other things, you'll find that you're not the first person who was ever confused and frightened and even sickened by human behavior. You're by no means alone on that score, you'll be excited and stimulated to know. Many, many men have been just as troubled morally and spiritually as you are right now. Happily, some of them kept records of their troubles. You'll learn from them - if you want to. Just as someday, if you have something to offer, someone will learn something from you. It's a beautiful reciprocal arrangement. And it isn't education. It's history. It's poetry." ~J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye.

**Note to reader: Like the other family member’s narratives in this story, care has been taken to preserve the context of the journal while improving readability. Chris’s writing is surprisingly much like Holden Caufield’s character in “Catcher in the Rye”

Chris only uses this style of writing for his journal. He has never read “Catcher in the Rye” and is unaware his English Teacher would be very pleased to note the similarities in style if he chose to write some of his creative writing assignments this way.

I had just walked my sister home from the bus. You never know what you are going to see when you open the door to my house. It could be my mom cuffed and gagged running high-steps while my Dad lays on the couch shouting at her, or today she was on her knees probably sucking his dick.

I guess you can know what you will see when you open the door to my house, my mother or sister squatting and being kept naked while we laugh at them.

I think Dad may have actually been playing World of Warcraft. Way to go dad! I always assumed when you get his age, you have to just be into sports and fishing. Is fishing a sport? It probably shouldn’t be. How hard is it to catch fish that can’t leave the lake they are in? Duck hunting would be a better sport, because at least they can fly away.

Can you imagine me and Dad duck hunting in the winter? Stranger things could (and have) happened.

It was pretty obvious to me that we had just walked in on my Mom sucking on Dad’s dick. It was amusing to watch the two of them scramble and pretend they were doing something else. It’s best to just pretend you don’t notice in situations like that.

Dad called Jamie an “Ass face” and had her strip at the door. I like that he takes control of the situation and I can just sit back and observe. Sometimes it bothers me that he doesn’t let me handle things, but in the end, Jamie is naked and I’ve got clothes on.

Speaking of naked, how awkward is it that Dad is just sitting around with his junk hanging out? I thought we were supposed to be mad about how they enslaved us and kept us naked? How weird is it to see your father’s tool flip-flopping around the living room? I just pretended not to notice his boner, but it completely reminds me of when him and I were on the receiving end of the discipline.

He hustled the girls outside to put on their ointment and get some sun. We all know it’s really so the kids in the neighborhood can peep at them in the backyard. I don’t think Dad cares too much about their sun tanning. I know I couldn’t give two shits about it.

He completely ignored Jamie wanting to admit she sucked three dicks today. He also didn’t want to hear about what I’ve got in mind for her to do at the half-time show. He was too proud of his new rules.

I looked at them, and came up with an idea where we can shift everyone’s behavior with a simple phrase. “Hey, Red Alert. It’s a cop” or “Okay, go back to green alert, that motherfucker is gone now.” That is funny. Fuck the police.

My grandmother sent me a book by Ring Lardner for my 13^th birthday. Almost every time somebody gives me a present, it ends up making me sad, but not books.

It had these very funny, crazy plays in it, and then it had this one story about a traffic cop that falls in love with this very cute girl that's always speeding. Only, he's married, the cop, so he can't marry her or anything. Then this girl gets killed, because she's always speeding.

That story just about killed me. What I like best is a story that is at least funny once in a while. I read a lot of classical books, like ‘The Return of the Native’ and all, and I like them, and I read a lot of war books and

mysteries and all, but they don't knock me out too much. What really knocks me out is a book that, when you're all done reading it, you wish the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours and you could call him up on the phone whenever you felt like it. There aren't many stories like that, though.

I could turn my journal into a book. Can you imagine someone jerking off to my life? How I pimped out my sister and now my mom, and spent the cash on some sweet Bakugan cards and a vintage Star Wars action figure? The thing is, my writing is too “talky”. No one but me would probably want to read anything like this, so telling the story of our little family feud and how it all worked out will probably stay a pipe dream.

So many things have happened since it all began, it would take chapter after chapter to tell the story anyway. Then there is right now? Who would want to jerk off to me and my dad talking about the rules? Then again, I didn’t think anyone else got off on “Game of Thrones” porn. That is until I found a website devoted to Tyrion fucking Sansa Lannister that someone must have spent hours creating. That was fucking hot.

I will keep the idea for a telling of the story in my back pocket. You never know if there is some dirty minded perv who would enjoy reading about our family’s secret. They would probably think it’s all made up anyway.

Once dad and I got done with the rules, we brought my mom and sister back inside. I love to look at them after they’ve been out in the backyard getting sun. My mom has this fine oil sheen of sweat on her back, and because she is taller and more filled out then Jamie, she reminds me of a Clydesdale or one of those strong war horses that Knights rode around - muscular yet feminine, powerfully driving itself headlong against the wind at your command.

Then there is my little sister, such a perfect body. She has no idea how perfect it is - the symmetry of her natural tits, the hang of her peach-perfect ass cheeks - they seem to sag and shift in all the right places like succulent fruit I just want to bite into. She has just the hint of a six pack abdomen. Damn, did nature bless the two of them.

Not like me and Dad. I don’t know, if I worked out I could probably be buff and hung and strong and all. Why would I though? Be like all those phonies at the gym working out all the time to prove something to someone?

Then again, I could probably get the babes. Cathy at school keeps offering to trade me other girls that she has in her little stable of confused cunts in exchange for a day with Jamie. There is this one called “Hope” who is on Jamie’s squad that I like.

I was half in love with Hope when I met her for the very first time. That's the thing about girls. Every time they do something pretty, even if they're not much to look at, or even if they're sort of stupid, you fall half in love with them, and then you never know where the hell you are. Girls. Jesus Christ. They can drive you crazy. They really can.

Then there is another bitch named Veronica who has known Jamie since she was little. She used to have this crush on me - chased me down the street with snot running down her nose trying to tackle me or something. As if that is how girls get guys. She was only about 7 years old at the time, and a lot has changed in the last decade or so.

Now all she does is give me the stink eye.

Cathy isn't as all knowing as I once thought. She is the nucleus for a clique of girls who used their good looks to get what they wanted. Some of those girls did it because they enjoyed the power and others because they wanted acceptance into Cathy's clique. They got bored playing with just each other's lives and that’s when they branched out to blackmail some of their friends into playing their games too.

I know that I am not the only one running a 'Babysitter' club renting out a hot cheerleader for dates. Cathy's market is older men with disposable income. That is why I've been sticking with my friends. It isn't just that I don't want to encroach on her target audience, I also love the popularity I have now with my guy friends. It seems now that I have something they want, I am everyone's bestest chum and old time good buddy.

What a bunch of phonies.

I keep hoping Cathy will offer me Veronica. I’d love a chance to spank that ass! The problem I have with it, is I am not sure I want a girl because she has to do me. I mean sure, my mom and sister, but another girl.

I also don't know if I want to give Jamie up for a full day with Cathy Griffin. I think I have some hold over Jamie’s guilt about what happened to me the day she gave me up for a full day with Cathy Griffin. Once we are even, she may not feel like continuing things as they are.

Hey, also I am not a complete sadistic asshole. Cathy Griffin makes me and my Dad look like amateurs by comparison. Then again, Veronica's ass is like a juicy tomato I just want to bite into.

Speaking of asses, Dad finished letting Mom and Jamie read the rules. They had to do it in position one holding their asses apart. It is such a laugh to watch them ask serious questions to clarify his short-hand rules while trying to hold that position. I just can never get enough of how absurd this situation is. I also love to look at assholes.

I like to watch Jamie’s pretty pink poop hole flutter and puff out, then ‘poofta’, a tiny little escape of air as her asshole puckers and kisses out the teensiest of farts. There is something so satisfying knowing that even a creature who is so outwardly as perfect and beautiful as her, rips a fart just like me.

Well not like me. Even her farts are poetic and dainty. Mine, not so much.

The girls agreed to the rules once they were clarified. I was really pleased with the rules about the bells. I was going to have a ball ringing for their fat asses. I love to say “Fat Asses” even though they have perfect, tight asses that make me want to take a bite out of them they are so perfect. I could bounce a quarter off my mom’s little bubble butt.

The more you say “Fat Ass” or “Get your fat tits in gear”, the more it seems they start to believe it. Girls are silly, vain creatures sometimes who are their own harshest critics. I’ve even heard my mom refer to her surgically perfect jugs as “Fat tits” since I started saying that to her.

I should probably take notes on all those clarifications but I am memorizing every tiny wrinkle on my sister’s cute asshole socket - The skin where her asshole and pussy lips meet. That is an area of no-man’s land that she never showed to anyone, now she has to face it towards me while I smirk and giggle. That rocks!

Then there is that perfect cunt of hers. It was just a sliver of delicious pussy pie. There was nothing on the outside. You could just see a fine slit and the hint of pink. I hunger to pull on that tiny mound of delicate flesh that is peeking out from there now, turning her innie into an outie.

I just reached out and gave it a honk. No one said a word about it, as if that was totally normal to squeeze your sisters clit. I love this family!

Then it was time for punishment. Dad has decided to let them sweat it out for a little while. I agree. I wish he would ask my opinion before making these decisions for the both of us. The new rules basically say that when one of us speaks, it is on behalf of both of us. I hope he really means that when things are up to me and stands behind my decisions. So far he has stood behind me, even though I can tell he doesn’t really like the tattoos.

The tattoos are fucking amazing to me. They have all these hidden designs in the art work. Dinosaurs, Skulls, you name it, I think it’s like a Ronnie James Dio album cover on their turd machines. I think not only as living art emblazoned on perfect asses, but also that they symbolize something bigger.

I am going to print out the pictures I have of them and get them blown up full poster size and put them over my bed. Then I am going to jerk off to them nightly after the training is over. Why does it have to be over? Would be worth it to let them enslave me for a few weeks, to get a few more weeks back in charge of them?

I know, am I sick or what? It's no fun to be sick. Maybe I'm not all sick and every guy dreams of controlling his hot mom and sister. I don't know. I think maybe I am just partly sick and partly the type that doesn't give much of a damn what others think.

Jamie and Mom both took positions on their floor kneeling with their legs spread apart so that their knees touch the carpet. They almost reminded me of naked monks meditating the way dad had them lay their palms flat on their thighs facing upwards.

“Wendy Taylor, tell us what you have done wrong today, and await your punishment” My Dad said as if he were a judge at a court proceeding.

“I lost my cell phone, I failed to get pictures emailed to you before the end of the day of me playing with my cunt. I was slow in delivering my work to Steve, and I failed to follow all of my protocols.”

“Why did you lose your cell phone?”

My mom paused as if considering her words. “A visitor to my office took it by accident, and I didn’t have time to get it back.”

“Are you concerned he’ll see what is on the phone?” My dad asked patiently.

“No sir, he knows I am a whore. He was there in part to take pictures of me masturbating, but he didn’t get a chance to finish before we came home. I will ask him for the phone on Monday.”

“Ask?”

“I will beg him to return the phone on Monday, Sir.” My Mom corrected herself just as natural as you please. There was nothing phony about how she answered his questions.

That is one thing I will say for them. Jamie and my Mom were stuck up, and self-absorbed with their own lives, pains in my ass before we started training them. They are not dumb like most girls. They are smart, but they also say what they mean, and mean what they say. I wish I could be more like that.

“Do you think you should be punished for your mistakes?”

“Yes Sir, so that I can learn to be more responsible with the phone you permit me to use. The punishment will remind me not to waste time and try to get the photographs to you sooner. The punishment will teach me to respect Steve more as my new “Handler” and carry out his assignments quickly.”

I may have to take it back what I said about saying what they mean. There was something about my mom’s words that were guarded. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but she didn’t fully believe all of what she was saying. If I had to speculate, I bet the guy from her office that has her phone walked off with it on purpose. She also has no control over whether he would take pictures of her or not. Now is not the time to stand up for her, it is going to be fun to see her punished. I’ve put a lot of fun punishments into the ‘funishment bowl’ this week and I want them to draw.

I will just pretend to be dumb Chris who is only half-listening for a little longer.

“Do you believe one correction is enough for all that you did wrong today?”

“What I believe is irrelevant Sir. You are my owner. You will decide what is an appropriate punishment for my mistakes.” There we go, my mom was sounding more like she really believed what she was saying that time.

“No cop outs. I know that I will decide what is appropriate. Do you think one or two corrections are fair?”

I could see my Mom was chewing her lip with indecision. If she picks one she sounds like she is trying to get out of this with the least amount of pain and humiliation. If she picks more than one, she runs the risk that dad will agree with her. This should be interesting to hear her answer.

“As I’ve not received many corrections, it is hard for me to say what would be a fair amount. I believe one would be sufficient and if I fail to learn my lesson and repeat the mistake next week, then I could better tell you how severe the punishment should be to help me remember to not let it happen again, Sir.”

I was impressed. “Good answer, Mom.” I interjected myself into things. It is good to do that now and then, so people don’t forget you are right there watching and listening. No one answered, but some times that is a good thing. It means that what I did wasn’t out of the ordinary, and seemed to fit into the situation. No comment needed. That is at least how I take it when that happens.

She drew a card. It was one that I had written. I licked my lips in apprehension as she read the card aloud. I love the sound of her voice as it trembles across certain words and then she tries to recover and stay strong while she finishes it.

Elemental Category: Ice, Heat, Wind, Rain, the power of the earth itself will chastise you for your transgressions.

This is the twelve ice cube challenge. You will stand outside on the patio with twelve frozen ice cubes. You may pick any hole (or combination of holes). You will insert them quickly one by one.

You will stand in position one and wait with an empty glass in one free hand. The fill line on the glass is half an inch. You must leak the water to fill the glass (spit or piss does not count). If you do not reach the fill line, you will return to the freezer and repeat until you have filled the glass.

You will present the glass to your owners when complete and beg forgiveness for what you did wrong. You will apologize and explain how this treatment helped you to be a better person.

Bonus: Drink the water (slut squeezin’s) for one star.

Ooh, I was looking forward to that one. Lucky for her she didn’t get the Chinese water torture one I dreamt up. That one would be a lot worse and more time consuming. I was delighted to see the wince register on her face as she read aloud “Slut squeezins”.

I love the idea that they have to think about the punishment for a while before we give it to them. Technically, you should punish someone on the spot when they do something wrong. I think that works for the immediate corrections and small stuff. I think for the things they did wrong earlier in the day, making them wait and imagine what it will be like may be more diabolical than the real thing.

“Thank you Sir, I accept my sentence, and await your instruction to begin carrying it out.”

“We don’t have enough time now, because of your whore daughter’s football game.” Dad said as if he hadn’t fully intended to make her stew on the punishment for a while. I knew better.

“Jamie, your turn. What have you done wrong today, and await your punishment?”

“I fell asleep in class, Sir.” The first correction didn’t seem all that surprising considering we had all stayed up so late the night before. I yawned at the thought of how much sleep I wanted to catch up on. Then again, I could sleep after this training was over to my heart’s content. I am sure Mom and Sis would think twice before waking me up again.

“I also was late sending my pictures to you, because in order to get my phone back, I agreed to suck three boy’s dicks.” She said as if it were the most trivial thing anyone has ever done. I had to admire her courage.

The look on Mom and Dad’s faces was priceless. There was this stunned silence. It was time for Pimp Supreme Chris to talk.

“Yeah, I told her to do that. I am an owner too, so it was okay, right?” I lied for her. I could see she was looking at me with concern.

“That isn’t what happened. He did tell me to get my phone back, and where to go. He didn’t tell me to suck their dicks though. I decided that when I got there, Sir.” She could have left it vague, Dad may not have probed too deeply if she let me cover for her. Sometimes I don’t understand girls at all. Not at all. That is one reason I try to steer clear of relationships. Crazy bitches, even my sister with her head on straight, seems crazier than any guy I know.

“So you just offered to suck their dicks like a slut?” My dad was getting upset, and I couldn’t quite read my Mom. There was a mixture of “Oh no, I knew things would get out of hand” and “Oh my god!!” on her face, that you couldn’t quite tell what she was thinking. I bet she was thinking about when I made her suck Gerald’s dick the night before and wondering if she had to admit that.

“No sir, they said it was the only way to get it back. I am learning to be a good slut. I had to make a judgment call. If it was wrong, then I submit to the appropriate punishment for my crime. You should know that I agreed to suck their dicks next Monday as well. I told them my mouth was not mine to offer.”

“What on earth? If they were giving you the phone back, why did you agree to suck their dicks again?” My Dad was confused on the details as much as I was. Well that isn’t true, I really didn’t care about the details. I was already counting up the dollars I could make now that I knew I could rent both my mom and Jamie out as dick suckers. That is of course, if Dad doesn’t throw a fit and blow all his gaskets and say no one can suck on anything.

“The first time was to get the phone back. Sheldon hadn’t actually taken pictures of me masturbating at lunch as I thought. He didn’t know how to work my phone. That was my fault for not showing him Sir. They WANTED me to suck their dicks every day next week in order to stay and snap the shots of me playing with myself for your amusement. I told them I couldn’t promise Monday, but they agreed to it.”

“Wow, do you like sucking dicks?” My dad asked her point blank.

I was looking at mom for most of this conversation. I thought she may erupt like a volcano. Her face had turned red like a ripe tomato but so far no lava was raging out of her lips.

“It was my first time. I thought I would mind, but it wasn’t as bad as I had been led to believe. I was raised to be a good girl and wait, Sir. I realized though it was something I would eventually do, so I thought maybe you would want me to suck cocks.”

“That isn’t a very clear answer. You have one more chance to tell me, slut. Do you like sucking cock?”

“Yes Sir, I did.” Okay now my focus was back on Jamie’s face when I heard her say that. I could not have imagined she would say that. In a way, it almost took the fun out of the idea of making her suck dicks for money next week thinking she may be getting off on it. I said almost, I didn’t say that it DID take the fun out of it.

“Wendy, what do you think of your cock sucking daughter?” My Dad asked a question I wanted to know the answer too. What was percolating behind my mom’s pretty green eyes?

“I cannot judge my daughter for something I have done. I am a cock sucker like her, Sir. I begged to suck the dick of the man who took my phone. He just wouldn’t let me.”

“Why did you not admit that when your misbehavior was being reviewed Slut?” My dad fired back the question and he was upset.

She stumbled with her words. I could tell from her expression she had some secrets she was keeping. Personally, I don’t care about secrets. If people want to keep them, they can try if they want too. If not, why even have the concept of secrets at all? All the truth is, is someone’s secret that they couldn’t keep.

“Chris, one short question. Don't you think there's a time and place for everything? Don't you think if someone starts out to tell you about her father's farm, she should stick to her guns, then get around to telling you about her Uncle's drinking problem? Or, if his uncle's drinking problem is such a provocative subject, shouldn't she have selected it in the first place as his subject--not the farm?"

I didn’t know what my Dad was talking about. I just cut to the chase and said “Yes, she should have told us she sucked a dick at work. I think the new rule has to be, no cock sucking unless you get our permission.”

“Whose hole is this?” My dad put both fingers on either sides of Jamie’s mouth and pulled it open hard.

“Yoursffff” She splurted out with mouth held open unable to talk.

“So why do you think you can promise that pretty little mouth to boys, to get what you want out of them? Aren’t you owned by us?” He let her mouth go and twisted her nipple.

“I am, and I agree Sir. What I did was wrong. I will tell them I cannot suck their dicks on Monday, and accept punishment for also offering something that wasn’t mine to offer, Sir.” She was almost in tears over that one. I think breaking her word to Sheldon meant a lot to her.

Trust me, that boy was used to disappointment. He is sensitive, like a toilet seat is sensitive. He has been sat on by life like one too. This would be good for him, prepare him for the long string of disappointing relationships he is going to have with women for the rest of his life. If you think he is a pathetic twerp, you should see his Dad.

Damn, wouldn’t it be fun to rent Wendy and Jamie to them on a double date?

“Wendy, I am going to ask you this one time, and one time only. Whatever you answer right now, is the final answer on the matter. There is no going back, there is no changing. You know your daughter sucked three cocks today. You know she wouldn’t lie about it or make it up. She is a lot of things, but she isn’t much of a liar.” He paused to let this sink in, while going back to sit on his recliner. Jamie’s left foot had begun to shake nervously, but she was holding her position in front of us fully composed. No tears like I had hoped.

“I know you agreed to be humiliated along with your daughter, and we haven’t pushed the issue of sexuality too much. Knowing what your daughter did, is there any reason she should not suck dicks during the training?”

My mom swallowed. I could feel a long boring lecture coming on about trying to expose us to things when we are ready for them, so that we can make appropriate decisions and leverage the guidance we had received.

“No Sir, she is a cock sucker just like me.”

I think my boner just grew an extra inch (that wasn’t there before) when I heard my mom say that. That was fucking hot. The hottest thing I have heard in a while. Judging from dad’s face you wouldn’t know he was getting turned on. Unfortunately for him, he had chosen to be completely naked and his stiff woody standing straight up at attention told an entirely different reaction. One that I agreed with.

“Are you going to take that back if we have you suck cocks together? Side by side?” I was having trouble believing my Dad was willing to say things that were so outrageous.

“No Sir, the rules apply to us both equally.” My mom’s voice cracked as she said it. I could see goose bumps rising up on her skin all over, around her tits, down her arms. It was cold in here though, we kept the AC blasting now that the men run things. So it could be that, although I like to think it was the sudden mental image she just got of the two of them playing skin flute on a couple of lucky guys.

“Who is the better cocksucker of you two?”

Mom hated this. I knew she hated it. I loved it.

“I would suppose I am, since I’ve had more practice Sir.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I am not sure, Sir.”

“If you weren’t sure, why did you say you are?” Dad had her there.

My mom was holding back tears. I could see she was in distress. The thing is, even though she was disturbed by all this, a part of me couldn’t help but wonder if she was enjoying it. I wish she was, because I sure as fuck am.

Sometimes I act like I'm about thirteen. It's really ironical, because I'm six foot two and a half and I have gray hair. I really do. The one side of my head--the right side--is full of millions of gray hairs. I've had them ever since I was a kid. And yet I still act sometimes like I was only about twelve. Everybody says that, especially my Dad. It's

partly true, too, but it isn't all true.

People always think something's all true. I don't give a damn, except that I get bored sometimes when people tell me to act my age. Sometimes I act a lot older than I am--I really do--but people never notice it. People never notice

anything.

“You should have a dick off.” I volunteered.

My Dad didn’t seem to understand what I was saying, and I think he had more questions for my Mom but he let me explain.

“Let them both suck your dick, and you decide which one is better. That one will teach the other one her tricks. Then you can have another dick off and see which one has shown the most improvement. Maybe we can get a little trophy “Best cock sucker” and whoever has it, gets an extra star or something.”

“I like how you think. Don’t you want to be a judge?” my Dad asked me. It was fun to talk about Mom and Jamie as if they weren’t in the room. Like they were cattle at the market and we were deciding if we should fatten them up for winter or go ahead and send them to the butcher right now. They both had this glossy look on their face like they were pretending not to listen, but I knew the two of them were feeling a sense of objectification when we did that. I always did when they talked like that about Dad and me.

“Getting a hand job from them is one thing, but I don’t know. I mean, My Mom and Sister?” I hate when I get too shy and reluctant and retreat into my shell. I should have said “Fuck you, I want to plant a dick in their asses, and watch it sprout!” but I didn’t.

I think a part of me is very embarrassed about what I am making them do, and I don’t want them to think I am such a bad guy after this is all over.

“I understand. It probably isn’t as enjoyable to you if THEY do it.” Right on dad. The way he said that sliced through both of them like a knife. He had turned it around to make it sound like I was just not into it because I wasn’t turned on by them. The rock hard spike in my pants told another story.

“Jamie, if we let you keep your word on Monday to the boys, are you going to balk and hesitate if we tell you to suck someone else’s dick?”

“Is it for Stars, Sir?” She might have sounded greedy when she asked for clarification, but if you knew how Jamie was, you could tell it was more curiosity and a desire to be sure of what she is saying, than a desperate greed.

“Well, you will certainly earn “W” from article two of the new amendment for it when you do it on a date. As far as stars, I think only when it was particularly difficult. How hard it is to open your mouth and put it around something like the corn dog? You think that is a special talent, or it’s something women have been doing since the dawn of time to convince the men of their cave to go out and hunt and risk their lives to bring food back to the campfire?”

“Since the dawn of time, Sir.”

“Who are the men of your cave?”

“You and Chris, Sir.” I could tell from the lemony look on her face that she knew why Dad had asked that.

“Your mom was sucking my dick when you came in. That is why I am still hard.” Dad was lying, he had been limp and had gotten hard hearing her confession. I am pretty sure everyone else knew he was lying but if they did, no one said anything.

“You can draw your correction card and suck my dick, and I’ll decide who is the better of the two of you. Chris will read what you drew from the fishbowl.” I wish he would call it a funishment jar, that is such a clever term. I also wish he didn’t volunteer me to be the bad guy who reads the punishment while he sits in his lazy-boy and gets a knob-bob.

“Thank you, Sir.” Jamie came forward to draw from the jar. She was looking at Mom as if for a sign to back down or to stop. Mom said nothing, she remained kneeling in the position they had started with.

Jamie drew the card and handed it to me as courteously as she could. She even returned my stare by looking me in the eyes. I gave her a reassuring look. I think that is what older brothers are supposed to do in situations like these. (If there is a handbook that talks about situations like these, I'd love a copy).

She then took a position in front of dad, on the floor and pulled her hair back behind her head. She was apprehensive at first, the way someone holding a joystick for a video game tries to look for all the different buttons before they finally start using it. Then she opened her pink mouth hole and began bobbing up and down like a sewing machine.

“Ahem, your punishment, should you choose to accept it is.” I said as I read her card out loud.

Endurance Category: Hard work obediently done for the pleasure of your betters according to your station.

This is the Waxerman Lawn Challenge. You will go during daylight hours dressed in a street legal bikini, and mow Mrs. Waxerman’s front yard. You will be pleasing and accommodating to her in all ways and tell her that you were sent to trim her lawn as a courtesy from Bill Taylor and his son.

You will trim all hedges, edge all sidewalks, rake and bag all leaves and do a professional job on the front lawn.

You will knock on her door and ask if she minds giving you access to her back yard. You will disrobe as it is fenced in and hang up the bathing suit saying that it is sweaty. You will ask her if she minds (After you undress)and unless she tells you she does, you will complete the backyard fully undressed.

We will make sure she is home for this. If Mrs. Waxerman is unavailable for seven days, you do not have to complete the punishment.

Bonus: You will tell Mrs. Waxerman you have been constipated for several days after gorging yourself on cheez-whiz and crackers that were intended for Chris and Bill. You will ask (beg) if she will administer the “Patented Waxerman Tabasco Colonic.” in exactly those words. You will tell her that you receive them regularly at home, but that Bill does not mix them quite the way she did the first time. You will ask her not to tell us (Which will ensure she tells us).

You will not be punished for asking her to not tell us something in this situation. You will receive one star if you take the bonus and she does not administer the enema. You will receive two stars if she does. You will receive four stars if you can carry the water all the way home and release here.

This was one of my better card ideas. I was so glad she picked it and hoped she wouldn’t chicken out and use her “Get out of jail free card.” One of the reasons I tacked bonus items to all of mine, was that they could only get the bonus if they took the punishment. This way they have another reason to accept it.

Imagine the irony of having a “Get out of punishment free” card, and not being able to use it, because you also want the reward that goes along with the punishment. A reward that will free you from this entire game, or training or whatever it is we are actually doing with each other. I sometimes see it as a game. Then I actually see life as a game some times.

“This card will self-destruct in ten seconds.” I joked as if it was something from Mission Impossible or whatever that show was where someone would hide a secret message in a lunch box that would then blow up. How dumb is that? Someone opens it by mistake and then ka-boom?

“That is going to be pretty cool. You can use the new protocol Dad and I came up with. White Alert. Like Betty White, I guess.” I said, which admittedly sounded pretty stupid once it came out of my mouth.

Dad wasn’t listening and from the looks of it neither was Jamie. She was expertly tonguing the tip of his dick, darting her tongue out and flicking the edges of it. This was my little sister and she was really sucking dick like a perfect natural. Dad was grabbing her long blonde hair in one hand and pulling it away from her head like a pony tail. The other hand he would periodically brush against her nipple as if he were looking for some place to channel his ecstasy back into her or at least find something to do with his hands.

“Chris why don’t you order your mom to suck your dick.” He said like a guy who loved sandwiches who just happened to be eating the best sandwich of his life and really couldn’t be bothered to think about anything else.

My Mom had been watching Dad and Jamie go at it the entire time. She hadn’t dropped her gaze, and her face was completely pale.

“If you don’t want to, I understand.” I fumbled.

“What I want is irrelevant, Sir. You may order me to give you head, and I will obey.” She said it loud enough Dad and Jamie could hear. It was kind of passive aggressive as if to say to them “Hey, I am going to suck my son’s dick, do you care? Put a stop to it if you do?”

They didn’t stop. Jamie was giving his dick a real work out. If blowjobs were first impressions, she was making a great one on Dad.

I sat down on the couch next to my mom and looked at her. “I KNOW I can order you, Mom. I have to admit I am curious what it is like.” I looked over at Dad enjoying himself, twisting his fingers in my sister’s hair. She was sucking shamelessly, as if her life depended on pumping that vanilla cream from her father’s cock. It was hilarious.

Okay, hilarious isn’t the right word, so fuck it, I will be honest. It was the dirtiest, sexiest shit I’ve seen in my life, and I’ve been all over the internet. I guess seeing one person going down on another’s cock in person, is so much more personal and intense when it is happening right in front of you, that videos of it just don’t do it justice.

My mom continued to look at me and then back at my father and Jamie. She was waiting for me to finish my thought. I loved that I could make her wait now. It must be eating her impatient little ass up at times that I don’t have to hurry up and blurt out what I want to say or else she’ll move on to something else. She has to wait for me, on my time table.

“Would you like to suck my dick, Mom?” I asked curiously.

“Please don’t ask me like that, Sir.” She sounded pathetic.

“Okay, you want too, but you need me to order you so you don’t feel as slimey about it?”

“It isn’t like that, Sir.” She kept her tone low. Dad and Jamie probably wouldn’t have heard her if she shouted. Jamie was glugging cock and I think one of her hands was down at her sweet little cunt tickling that knotted clit rising out of her pussy. I didn’t say anything. We are supposed to punish them for catching them masturbating and so far I haven’t caught them doing it when they didn’t have too. Considering what she was doing, I just let it go. She would get a nice punishment soon anyway.

I reached out with a curled finger and lifted my mom’s chin up so that she had to look at me. It was a pimp move, the kind you do when you want to take control of the situation and be suave. I had seen it in movies before. I liked how my mom’s eyes flicked up at me as she followed my finger with her head. “So what is it like?”

“You won’t stop with just blowjobs. After this, it’s going to be fucking.” She always had a way of thinking two or three moves into the future. We are on blowjobs, my mom is on the fucking that comes down the road after we tire of just BJs. She can’t give a simple yes or no to a question, she thinks she can, but she is so damned evasive.

“I will be satisfied with blowjobs.” I smiled reassuringly at her. “Assuming, that you can give satisfying ones like Jamie. Can you?” I was hoping I twisted my smile into an evil grin to impress upon her she had better give me a good one if she wanted me to stick with just blowjobs. I say hope, because without a mirror I couldn’t tell if it was a goofy grin or an evil one.

I assumed she got my point because she moved herself in front of me without being ordered. “I’ve been drinking your cum all week, Sir and I’ve played with this cock.” She took it out of my pants for me. “I’ve played with it enough times that I should be ready for this.”

She was messing with my boner by seeming so sad and pathetic. That is not cool. Drastic measures had to be taken.

I wasn’t going to sit there like a lump and let her do it. I stood up and pulled my pants down to my ankles, then I kicked off my sneakers and jeans. “Start playing with your poop hole, don’t put one finger in your wet pussy unless I tell you, understood?” I demanded.

“Yes Sir” she did exactly what I told her while I got myself ready.

I stood right in front of her and slapped her with my hard cock in the face and pat her head with it. “Thump, Thump, Thump” I said as I hit my pecker playfully on the top of her hair.

“Here, hit yourself in the face with my dick. Don’t take your other hand away from your asshole. Keep only the left hand on my dick. Don’t put it in your mouth. Hit yourself in the face with the dick.”

I was getting sticky precum on her nose. “Harder” I took her left hand with my right and started to beat her in the face with it. Then I teased, “Why ya hitting yourself, why ya hitting yourself?” like she used to do with me when I was three and she’d take my hands playfully and make me hit myself (not hard). She started to smile just a little bit.

“Oh that’s not funny?” I joked. “You know what comes next?”

“Yes Sir?” She answered very seriously, more a question than a statement.

“Oh what?” I said as I made her give herself a shot right in the nose with the head of my dick. “What is it, Wendy? What comes next?”

“I…I don’t know sir”

“Of course you don’t.” I replied sarcastically but in the same playful manner. “That’s okay. It shows you were actively listening. That is the important part” My condescension was obviously not serious to her, and I could see her brook a tiny smile now.

“It’s tickle time, bitch!” I launched myself on to her and forced her down to the ground by lying straight on her back. I was wrestling just like at school, except this time I had surprise on my side. I also was allowed to tickle, which I did mercilessly.

She began to giggle and laugh and as my tickling of her ribs and naked body all over became more and more frantic she dissolved into a wave of hearty continuous laughter. Her chest was heaving as she gasped for air in between uncontrollable laughter. It made it easy to pin her down that she wasn’t fighting back. She didn’t have any reason too, this wasn’t a wrestling contest, as far as she knew I was just roughhousing.

“Are you going to suck my dick like a good slut?” I asked once her laughter became hysterical sobbing.

“Yes sir” she got out between giggles in a soft tone.

“Not good enough, are you going to suck on these nutz, like a good little fucking slut, you BITCH?” I was done tickling her, but we were still on the floor together.

“YES SIR, I am going to suck your dick if you will put it my…” and as she was about to finish that thought I stuffed seven inches of Chris Taylor into her mouth catching her completely off guard. I’ll never forget the mental snapshot I took of her cheeks puffed out like blow-fish and her eyes wide like saucers.

I face fucked her while she lay on her back. I was straddling myself over her face, holding her head up. I wasn’t looking at Jamie or Dad, for all I knew they were done and watching me with awe. Hopefully they would be cheering “Go Chris, Go! -You crazy motherfucker.”

I am really a motherfucker, you know? I mean doesn’t this technically make me one? I hope so.

“You like that bitch? You like that?” I never know what to say during things like this. I hate repeating myself, but it is difficult to come up with clever remarks spontaneously. It is always after that I think it would have been cool to say “You are going to eat my dick, and crap cum for a week”. That would have been a good one. I’ll have to remember that.

“That’s it cunt. You can play with yourself, go ahead. Let me see you.” I gave her permission to use her hands to play with herself, because she was rubbing them all up and down my back and it was starting to put me off my game. It was so gentle and loving and I was going more for ‘brutal and face fucking’.

Nibble on my dick, like a rat does cheese.” I pulled my cock out of her mouth. Mom can deep throat. She had the entire thing in her mouth. I put the bottom of my cock right on her lips, that thick vein down there. She puckered up her lips and started to gently nibble. It really blew my mind. Blew it so hard, I shot cum all over her face, and made the “OH!!!!!!!!!!!” shout that cavemen have been doing probably since they first figured out the benefits of bringing food back to the campfire. It was bestial and it was a lot of spunk. I let it squirt all over her face and up her nose. It is a mental image I will never in a thousand lifetimes forget.

“Stay that way, cunt. Don’t lick it up.” I dismounted myself from her chest and got my bearings. I was dizzy, the blood was rushing back from my cock into the other parts of my body and that makes me sleepy and not horny.

“You like me to cum, don’t you? Keeps me docile, doesn’t it?” I don’t know why I did this, but looking down at her I spit on her face. That was a little extreme.

Funny thing is, she didn’t say, “Wait a minute Chris, time out.” She took it. In fact, I think it seemed to fit the situation. I had used her face to dump my cum, and then now that I was done, I spit on her. If you could see my face right now, I am smiling when I write this. Can you imagine how twisted a guy has to be to smile about spitting on someone? You had to be there, bro. I was in the moment and I didn’t feel guilty about it at all.

I looked around and saw Dad and Jamie staring at us. She was still kneeling at his face, but eyes glued on me. He looked like he was exhausted but he watched me intently.

“So who did the best blowjob? You’ve had them both?”

My dad laughed. So did my mom. So did Jamie. So did I.

I hadn’t intended it to be funny, but it came out that way in the point blank way I asked the question as if I was unmoved by what I had just done. I liked it.

I licked my lips. I could taste the salty sweat that had transferred from my mom's body to me, looking at my recent handiwork without shame. My mother sprawled out on the carpet. I felt alive, primal, invigorated. I felt like I had just written my name on her face and claimed her with my cum.

“Wow, I think I just pulled a Jamie all over mom's face!” I laughed and in my mind, I had this epiphany. I was looking at the glazing I had just jizzled all over my mom's face and lost myself in this daydream.

I pictured all these girls, not just Mom and Jamie. High stepping across the field, with their hands tied behind their back, wearing nothing but rubber ball gags, black hats and black shiny boots. This big field of rye and all.

Thousands of hot milfs, teenage girls, sexy meter maids, all made equal by their lack of clothes. Big boobs, medium boobs, little boobs, all jiggling and bouncing in unison as they march. Nobody's around – no other men, I mean - except me. And I'm standing on the edge of some crazy cliff.

What I have to do, I have to catch everybody if they start to go over the cliff - I mean if they're running and they don't look where they're going I have to come out from somewhere and catch them. That's all I do all day. I'd just be the catcher in the rye and all. I catch them as they fall, and spank their asses and turn them back around so they march in the right direction.

They need me to set them back on the right path, and unless I spank their asses they'll turn right back around for that cliff again. If I do it hard enough, they'll head back in the right direction.

If my sister and mother were heading off a cliff in how they were living, unable to stop themselves from marching in that direction, then isn't it my duty to spank their asses so they don't continue on that path and their ultimate destruction? The pain tells them not to go that way, even if everyone else is heading for that cliff.

I can't catch them all before they fall, but the ones I do should thank me.

I know it's crazy, but that's the only thing I'd really like to be. I don’t know what else to say about it.