The Family Feud III

Chapter Thirty-Seven
Ezekial 4:15 ~ Jamie Really Steps In It

STAR COUNT:
WENDY: 39
Get out of jail cards: 1
WHORE: 2,4,1,0,0
JAMIE: 47
Get out of jail cards: 1
WHORE: 4,4,1,0,0

“Good lord up above, and rest my soul. What are you doing, wicked child?” Mrs. Waxerman waggled a finger at Jamie. Jamie looked up to see her carrying a small package and restraining her little dog on its leash. Mr. Snips was straining in attempt to either get to Jamie or the rubber bone she had just dropped on the floor.

“Hello Ma’am” Jamie said with a stunned expression. She could feel the big smiles of Bill and Chris behind her back laughing at Jamie’s predicament. She remained on the floor on all fours looking up with her pretty baby blue eyes unsure what to say next.

It made perfect sense that Mrs. Waxerman would be at the store this morning. The Loop shopping center was nearby, and women her age tended to do their shopping early in the day. It also just seemed to be karma kicking Jamie in the ass once again.

“Jenga” Wendy whispered to herself as she sensed the humiliation tower collapsing.

“What manner of devious spectacle are you engaging in?” Victoria Waxerman acted as if she didn’t want to know, but her curiosity had been piqued, and that was written all over her face.

“I was just playing fetch, Ma’am” Jamie stood up, wiping her hands on her skirt.

“You know I am not one to gossip, but the rumors of your inappropriate and sinful behavior have been spreading all around the neighborhood. I don’t believe you should be cavorting in such an unlady like manner on store floors.”

“Yes Ma’am” Jamie just agreed with the woman.

Bill made a ‘tsk’ sound as he approached Victoria. “I am so sorry about that, Ma’am. I just can’t take either of them anywhere without them showing their asses.” He held up his hands as if he was powerless to stop it.

“Please Mr. Taylor, call me Victoria. I know you are doing everything you can to make sure your daughter doesn’t turn out to be as licentious as your wife.” Victoria cast an accusing glance at Wendy but addressed her attention and respect towards Bill Taylor.

“I see you brought your dog.” Chris was feeling left out of the conversation.

Mrs. Waxerman had warmed up to him, but still treated him like he might be mentally slow. She gave him a warm smile (for her) and said, “Yes, Mr. Snips and I came to return this music box.”

She held up her package and turned her attention to the sales woman. “I purchased this music box on Tuesday, it was supposed to play ‘How much is that doggy in the window’ by Patti Page.”

“Doesn’t it?” The sales woman didn’t seemed to care whether it did or not, and her question seemed like a formality.

“No it most certainly does not!” She took it out of its package and opened it.

The music was tinny as she opened it. The singers voice was lovely like an old 1940s jingle she warbled to the tune of ‘How much is that Doggy in the Window’

Do you see that doggie in the shelter

the one with the take me home eyes

If you give him your love and attention

he will be your best friend for life

In each town and city across the nation,

there's so many dogs with no home

Hungry with no one to protect them

lost is this world all alone

Collies and beagles by the roadside

puppies and dogs in the street

Once they are rescued by a shelter

they'll finally get something to eat

Doggies and kitties who are homeless

with sad eyes and tails hanging down

Let's do what we can to show them kindness

and let them know that they've been found

She let it play almost all the way through while staring at the impassive stone faced sales clerk as if waiting for her to see why it should be obvious this music box was inappropriate. When the sales lady failed to register the level of disdain Mrs. Waxerman expected she explained, “Where is the ORIGINAL song by Mrs. Patti Page?”

“That is an updated version. It is because she doesn’t support puppy mills. She wants people to get their pets from animal shelters, where they are spayed or neutered.” The sales woman’s dead pan delivery mirrored her disinterest in explaining this.

“That is absolutely barbaric to butcher such a lovely song, and I do not see why she should change the words. Her song was perfect, do you have the original version?”

“No Ma’am, I don’t think so.” She replied while looking off in the distance.

“You don’t think so, or you know you do not?” Mrs. Waxerman brooked no tolerance of uncertainty. She wanted an answer.

“No, we do not.” The sales lady sighed.

“Then I will have my money back this instant!” Mrs. Waxerman demanded but seemed to be waiting for the store clerk to offer some form of compensation so that it wouldn’t come to that. Instead, she simply agreed and ushered her to the cash register.

This left Mrs. Waxerman unsatisfied by the lack of response she was getting. “I shall tell my fellow pet owners about this!” She was hoping that would make the cashier reconsider and try to talk her into keeping the music box or offer her some consolation for her trouble. The sales clerk failed to oblige and her silence implied “do what you want”.

The Taylors didn’t know this but Mrs. Waxerman had been coming into this store every Saturday morning since it opened with some complaint or exchange and the response was usually the same. Every now and then she had found a new manager she could bully and intimidate into giving her the attention and respect she craved, but usually the store clerks just honored the exchange and let her make her empty demands.

While she waited for her money, the Taylors stood behind her at the register to finish their purchases. Bill asked politely “You know it really is fortunate to have run into you here like this.”

That wasn’t something people usually said to Mrs. Waxerman unless it was sarcasm. She was pleasantly surprised as she turned to hear what Bill had to say. Mr. Snips seemed interested in Wendy’s leg and was straining on his leash to get to her to sniff, smell and possibly hump it. “You beastly little thing, get down!”

“Are you talking to Wendy or Mr. Snips?” Bill said slowly. He was deliberately trying to talk with a trace of a southern accent to sound more like the simple mountain man and patriarch of his family that Mrs. Waxerman painted him to be.

Victoria laughed by covering her mouth with hand and didn’t answer that question. She gazed at Wendy and then back at Bill.

“Well, I was going to send Jamie over to offer to mow your grass this morning. You could save me the trip and the gas if you would just take her with you.” Bill offered.

“I understand about gas prices. I do not drive, I never learned, but I understand that Obama has raised the gas prices again!”

Even Bill knew that the President didn’t set gas prices, and he had no special love for the President but he almost felt compelled to answer her question. Instead, he said, “Well, I am just a simple man, I don’t know about that Ma’am”.

“Mister Taylor, I’d be delighted to do anything you asked of me. What time would you like her home?”

“You can keep her until 2pm, then we are going to the community pool party, you can bring her by there if you plan on attending?”

“I had not intended to come to the pool party. Children splashing and urinating in the pool, their parents drinking alcohol and allowing such horseplay. It makes a mockery of the very concept of a wholesome family picnic.”

“I am sorry you feel that way, Ma’am”

“I volunteered to bring potato salad, and they told me that I could not participate in the planning committee! Can you believe their nerve? I’ve been involved in the homeowners association for over twenty years!”

Bill had to smirk when he realized it wasn’t that she didn’t like the event. It was that they refused to let her plan it and probably for good reason. She was irritating even on her best day and this wasn’t her best day. “I don’t understand why they don’t value your experience and wisdom, Ma’am”

She ignored his smirking and agreed with him. “I’ll bring her by the pool party and stay for just a moment.”

Bill knew that she would stay for a long time at the party instead and take notes on who was doing what and with whom so she could gossip about it.

“Now you make sure to trim all hedges, edge all sidewalks, rake and bag all leaves and do a professional job on the front lawn.” He informed Jamie without waiting or asking if she even knew how to ‘edge’. Instead, he just asked Mrs. Waxerman if she needed his lawn mower and trimmer.

“I certainly have everything one should have for appropriate lawn care, Mr. Taylor, thank you for asking.” She responded indignantly as if she were offended by the implication she didn’t have proper lawn tools. “Is she going to wear this inappropriate outfit?”

Mrs. Waxerman was just getting her refund at this point. She had insisted in paying by check which took much longer to process.

“Well, she’ll probably sweat and get that all dirty, and that is what she was going to wear to church tomorrow.”
Bill lied. The family hadn’t ever attended a church regularly - Funerals, Weddings and Easter (when Chris and Jamie were much younger).

“Bill Taylor, please tell me you are joking that she would set one foot in the house of the Lord dressed in such a provocative way that it might invite the ire of the almighty?”

“Yes Ma’am, I was joking. I am sorry about that. Actually, I was going to send her over in her swimsuit, so that she would be ready for the pool party. We’ve got some shopping to do. I guess I could drive it on over later.”

“Oh nonsense, I could drop by your house and pick it up. We’ll pass right by on the way to my home.”

“Jamie, you change right into the swimsuit, and listen to Mrs. Waxerman, make sure you don’t give her any backtalk or mischief?” Bill looked his daughter in the eyes and handed a key to Mrs. Waxerman.

“Won’t you need this key to get back into your house?”

“No, that is Wendy’s key. She won’t need it. You can give it back to us at the pool. I really can’t thank you enough for this.” He left Mrs. Waxerman feeling as if she had done him a favor, even though he was sending his daughter to mow her yard for free. She didn’t think to ask him why.

“Don’t you have something else you want to tell her, Sis?” Chris prodded his sister by poking her on the back of her skirt.

“Sir?” Jamie wasn’t sure what he meant.

“My sister is too embarrassed to admit this, but she has been eating mostly junk food and she has become constipated.” Chris said on behalf of his sister.

Mrs. Waxerman didn't seem surprised and for the first time the cashier actually cracked a smile.

“Why haven’t you given her an enema to clear it?” Mrs. Waxerman’s face echoed her disdain.

“We have but I don’t think we are mixing them right. I just thought I’d tell you, because Jamie may lie about it

when she gets there.”

The actual punishment had called for her to ask for an enema and tell Mrs. Waxerman that her father didn’t mix them correctly and beg her not to tell them. That would ensure she tells every juicy detail of it. Jamie wasn’t sure if

She was more disturbed they were discussing her fake irregularity or that Chris was changing the rules right in the middle. That didn’t sit very well with her.

She played along “I am sorry you had to hear about that, Ma’am” is all she said as she fluttered her eyes.

“Don’t make goo-goo eyes at me, young lady. You have no one to blame but your own diet of candy, macaroni and sugar frosted cereals. I suppose if you have any one else to blame it’s to your own mother for lacking in the ability to cook a proper meal! Now come on dear, the hedges won’t trim themselves!”

Mrs. Waxerman looked back at Wendy woefully as she led Jamie by the hand out of the store. Jamie made a friendly offer to hold Mr. Snip’s leash as they walked away. Bill and Chris smiled as they heard Mrs. Waxerman chew her out as they left.

Wendy sighed.

“We didn’t forget about you. I hope you are ready for the twelve ice cube challenge.” Bill laughed as he handed his credit card to the clerk to finish paying.

“Frosty butt.” Wendy consoled herself with a little gallows humor as she wondered what holes she is going to use after she fills her mouth with ice in the punishment that awaited her today.

“Dad, can we get the dog tags made?” Chris asked and his father said certainly. Wendy held her breath in anticipation, half expecting the charge to be declined but it wasn’t. She heaved a sigh of relief that maybe Bill had worked out the expenses and she was just being over controlling and so worrisome.

She reflected as she nodded to the cashier and waited for her to finish the dog tags about all the changes that had happened to her and her family.

Bill had been a high school football star who never went to college. He had been raised to believe the man is the bread winner and the king of his castle. He had that TV land fantasy of Leave it to Beaver about the man coming home with the brief case to the wife in the immaculate house with the white picket fence and the glass of lemonade waiting for him and his nuclear family in the suburbs.

He had become disenchanted and disillusioned with that fantasy in his twenties as he worked hard to put Wendy through college and help raise their toddlers at the time. They didn’t have time for vacations and honeymoons and ‘date nights’. Time just flew by and those toddlers grew into kids and now into young adults right before their eyes.

Bill had lost his job and with it part of his manhood. He had become increasingly petty and small minded. He had been convinced nothing should be planned since ‘you can’t plan for everything’. He was getting more and more into computer games and online porn to escape his reality. He had his little schemes to get rich like his craigslist ad for nude models and all of that had backfired on him which only made him feel more and more powerless.

He would engage in long detailed internet arguments on forums to take out his frustrations. Wendy even knew the name of his rival and arch nemesis ‘Graymalkin’, stemming from some dispute about how a particular high school football game that Bill had played in had gone down years ago.

Wendy had ignored those observations and instead picked up the slack. She had focused on her career and her looks, trying to exercise and stay fit for the both of them. Where Bill had lost his high school physique she had blossomed through constant exercise and with a little help from the surgeon’s scalpel.

In the process of ‘bringing home the bacon and frying it up in the pan’ like the commercial for the perfume Enjoli she had heard when she was just a teenager - the perfect mom in the perfect house with the perfect job, who never measured up to her own unrealistic expectations. She was not only competing with herself, but her neighbors, her co-workers and most of all with her older sister’s success.

She had thought she was helping by doing everything around the house. It turns out she had come to realize that she was making Bill feel even more helpless. She was empowering Chris to be lazy and be the fat lump people made him out to be. She was setting this unrealistic example of being the perfect woman to her daughter.

They had become four individuals living in the same house. Her son was lost in his nerdism and Jamie was over-achieving her way through school simply because she assumed that was expected of her. She hadn’t even wondered why she was so focused on cheerleading and school activities, because that is all there had been.

There hadn’t been family trips and family vacations. In the past week they had spent more time with each other as a family than they had in the last year combined she estimated. She would grant that it was cruel, sadistic, humiliating and degrading family time, and that made her laugh that once again she was trying to find the positive in everything, even this.

There was positive to find. Her husband had made some mistakes, he wasn’t perfect, but he had learned the value of planning and communicating. He had taken a leadership role in the family. He had become better at mastering his own petty insecurities and she was glad she was able to let him feel more like a man than he had felt in close to twenty years.

She had seen him get impatient with Buford when he came along last night. Bill was becoming the alpha male and his first reaction was he wanted the nuisance to buzz off. She remembered how even last night Bill had overcome his old habits and acted more confident in what he had in Wendy. When he did, it seemed the petty nuisances no longer bothered him. It was like seeing a child who used to insist their peas and carrots not touch on the plate finally realize that didn’t matter at all when he just smiled at Buford and clapped him on the back and welcomed his help.

She had expected Bill to get jealous about a lot of things. She thought he would not be able to stand the idea of her having sex, many times with guys with much larger cocks. He hadn’t shown anger or jealousy though. He might if he found out what she did in the book store last night, and she wondered if what she had done was a subconscious cry for him to notice and get jealous?

Wendy wondered if she was petty and selfish and just hadn’t realized so much of her imperfections until this had all begun. She felt like a mirror had been held up to her life and she was for the first time having a really good look. She did’t like what she saw.

She was glad she had begun to change. She had twice today, even asked for punishment that wasn’t due her just to amuse Bill and Chris and get Jamie out off the hook for having to do it alone. She had been spanked twice and the world hadn’t ended. She had a sore bottom but that was all temporary.

She realized worriedly, she overthinks, she tries to do things for others when maybe sometimes letting them fail will teach them more and motivate them more than doing it for them.

Wendy had noticed that when she was with others, she kept thinking about how Bill and Chris would do something. She wondered if that was because they did everything so much better or if she was just using them as a benchmark to compare everyone else to because it was how she learned things in the past week?

She had begun to accept her own sexuality and do things that were provocative and daring. She had never given herself permission to do these things because she had been raised to think good girls don’t do those things. She had instilled that same belief in Jamie in abundance.

Now she was accepting sexual orders, positions and pain like she could never have imagined. She was finding at times she was turned on by it, and that even when she wasn’t, it was toughening her up both mentally and physically. That gave her perspective to ignore the small stuff, and the petty nuisances, and survive things she thought she couldn’t until she did this training.

Wendy was about to take mental stock of all the ways Chris and Jamie had changed and evolved when she was shaken from her thoughts.

~Whack~ a great stinging sensation burst across her bare tits. She was already home naked in the backyard. Her mouth was stuffed with ice cubes and Chris was crimping the garden hose to make the water rain down on her head. Her entire body was soaking wet and covered in goose-bumps from the chill.

“Mom, you’ve got 4 ice cubes in, come on pick a hole, you’ve got eight more to go!” Wendy had been so lost in her thoughts, or perhaps she had blacked out the hour before she got home. She was already midway through serving out her correction and she had a choice to make. She couldn’t hold more than four ice cubes and her son and husband were waiting..

A Short Time Earlier….

Jamie had followed in silence behind Mrs. Waxerman as they walked home from the store. Jamie had a sinking feeling in the pit of her tummy about the afternoon. She didn’t mind the idea of yard work but she also knew that there was more to this than that.

“Do you know your bible verses, child?”

“No, I don’t think so Ma’am”

“What do you watch, the music television instead?” Victoria said the words as if they were acid on her tongue.

Jamie was behind Mrs. Waxerman so she had an opportunity to grimace at the idea of sitting around watching MTV. They hadn’t played a music video in over ten years. It was all jersey shore and reality programming. She decided to put herself into ‘white alert’ and play along.

White alert was her father's new term, that fell outside of the green, yellow and red signal he could give to show more discretion. It meant to see if you she could push Mrs. Waxerman's buttons by saying the most outrageous things as the family had stumbled upon the joy of winding her up in her last two visits. Her father valued her honesty but the Taylor's just played along with this game for Mrs. Waxerman's benefit and embellished each other’s fabrications.

“Yes Ma’am, I listen to the rock music.”

“Today you won’t! Today, you’ll learn the value of putting your effort into the soil and sewing what you reap. How do you like that?”

“Thank you, Ma’am” Jamie had a naturally effervescent manner about her, so it was not much of a stretch to act vivacious and perky. It was kind of like asking Michael Cera to play the role of an awkward teenager in a movie. It just came as second nature.

Victoria hadn’t expected such a respectful reply. She expected a bratty answer because she had nothing but contempt for Wendy and assumed Jamie was from the same seed that grew that apple tree. “I must say that I didn’t expect you to act like you appreciated what I want to teach you.”

There was a pause and Mrs. Waxerman added, “It just means you are much better at deception than I would have given you credit for. You pretend to be polite to my face so that I will offer you warm milk and cookies rather than make you fulfill your father’s offer?”

“No ma’am, it’s not like that. I am glad you have taken an interest in me.”

Mrs. Waxerman was skeptical. She had for a moment wanted to believe this was a nice, positive Christian girl but then she looked over her shoulder and saw the slutty attire and the pink punk rock collar she had on her neck.

“Why do you have to dress so outrageously?” she asked.

“My father and brother are trying to teach me a lesson about it. They actually picked this out, Ma’am.” Jamie was still trying to get her courage up to play along with the ‘white alert’. It had been a while since they had and it was so much easier when her mom was doing it with her and Bill and Chris were playing along. She felt like she was on pins and needles and being judged for every word and inflection in her speech.

“I see.” Mrs. Waxerman concluded, “It is like when my father caught one of my sisters smoking. She made her sit right there and smoke an entire carton! And do you know what she got from that?”

“Lung cancer, Ma’am?” Jamie had let the answer she was thinking slip from her tongue. She hadn’t intended to say that. She was going to say something more polite and safe, but she had said the first thing that came to her mind and it sounded sarcastic.

“Ah there it is, the real you. The bratty response I thought I would get. Yes, she did eventually get lung cancer, but that isn’t what I was trying to teach you. She was forced to smoke so many that she didn’t want one again.”

Jamie wanted desperately to ask if she had lung cancer, is it possible that the lesson didn’t take and she smoked anyway? She was able to resist the urge to argue with the bitter old lady and just pretended to agree with her. She couldn’t conceive of making a child sit down and smoke a carton of cigarettes to teach them anything, but then again her father was teaching her something through this and it was very unorthodox.

“My generation doesn’t really smoke very much, Ma’am.” Jamie’s generation had so much anti-smoking propaganda that she truly would rather smoke a cock than a cigarette.

“I don’t know what your generation is doing, but with the short skirts and the rock and the roll, you aren’t doing yourselves any favors. I can tell you that.”

Mrs. Waxerman continued to berate Jamie and look into windows as she passed by houses. She seemed completely oblivious to how that may seem as she nosily peeked into open garages or shook her head as she glanced into windows. She’d make a comment about someone’s lawn being unkempt or their car being dirty.

If she passed a house where everything seemed perfect with how it looked she would say something about ‘They are going through a messy divorce’ or ‘His wife sees a psychiatrist three times a week!”. It wasn’t that Waxerman wanted to confide these things in Jamie, she was saying them out loud to herself.

When they arrived at the Taylor house, Mrs. Waxerman made a show of unlocking the door and hurrying Jamie inside. This gave Mrs. Waxerman plenty of time to poke around the house and shake her head at what she saw. She’d look under rugs and around the pantry to make a mental note of the things she found lacking.

Jamie dug through the cardboard box in the living room for a swimsuit. Bill had purchased about a half a dozen for his ‘modeling’ business several months ago. The models had been Jamie’s friends who were answering his craigslist ad to amuse Cathy Griffin and not for the paltry money her dad had been offering. She and her mother had inherited the swimsuits and worn them to do yard work.

Jamie stripped off her blouse and began to step out of her skirt when Mrs. Waxerman walked back out of the kitchen.

“Girl, have you no modesty at all? Why are you changing right in the living room?”

“It’s just you and I, Ma’am and you’ve seen me naked several times?” Jamie stood motionless as her bare breasts rose and fell with every breath she took.

“Yes, but the drapes are open.” Mrs. Waxerman countered.

“Only a dreadful gossip or peeping tom would be looking inside our windows. I don’t know anyone around here who would do that, Ma’am.” Jamie teased knowing full well that Mrs. Waxerman was quite guilty of doing that.

“Two piece or one piece, Ma’am?” Jamie asked as she dug through the halter-tops and skimpy dresses to find a bikini that would satisfy her father and Chris as well as Mrs. Waxerman.

“Most certainly a one piece!” Mrs. Waxerman said as if the choice were obvious.

Jamie’s eyes gleamed and she smiled as she pulled out a Lycra one piece string monokini. “I always had trouble picking a flattering Bikini, so my Dad and brother got us several to choose from.” That was half true. She did find it difficult to find a bikini that fit her properly and didn’t make her feel self-conscious before her training began. The bikinis were never intended for her though.

She pulled out a taffy blue microkini that was actually one of the most conservative bikinis in the box. There was just enough fabric to cover the slit of her ass and her pussy lips and two long straps she wore like suspenders to barely cover her nipples. It was tight enough that her nipple and clit piercings bulged out obscenely.

“Where is the rest of it, girl?” Mrs. Waxerman noted with displeasure.

“This is all of it, what do you think?” She modeled it for Mrs. Waxerman daintily twirling.

“Have you not started to grow pubic hair yet, child?” Mrs. Waxerman asked very seriously, while staring at Jamie’s preening and prancing.

“Yes Ma’am, but I shave every day. It wouldn’t do for me to walk around in a suit like this with a big hairy patch at the crotch. I know better than to be that obscene, Ma’am.” Jamie was starting to channel her memory of how the last conversations with Victoria had gone at her house and was feeling more comfortable playing naïve but slutty.

“You’ve something else in that box?”

Jamie stifled the urge to ask ‘in my cunt?’ Her brother had called it a box more than once. She was feeling more playful and free about how shocking she could be, but she still hadn’t built up the courage for that one.

“I have a two piece I could wear, but you probably won’t like it, Ma’am.” Jamie stripped out of the two piece in seconds and hung it on the side of the cardboard box as she dug around naked at the front door for both halves of another bikini.

She pulled out a candy red two piece with a v-string bottom that plunged so low it left the upper part of her clit exposed. The top was little more than a string that tied around the chest with two small patches of material intended to cover the nipples very precariously.

“It isn’t that I won’t like it, I am trying to find something that won’t embarrass your father and brother when they are seen in public with you.” Mrs. Waxerman sounded frustrated as she looked at the girl’s lithe frame flitting in front of her. Jamie was tall and lean and had a washboard tummy with an angel’s face. “You have a body built for speed, young one. The problem is you keep driving it like that and you are going to crash.” There was a hint of jealousy in Mrs. Waxerman’s tone but it was mostly laced with scorn.

Jamie looked more naked with the suit on than without. Her nipple rings forced the cloth flaps of her top into a position that they didn’t cover even the pink unwrinkled nipples on her perky tits.

“My father and brother actually picked these out, Ma’am” She modeled the new suit and seeing disapproval dug around for another.

“Yes, but they spoil you and placate you. They give you what you are asking for and let you have your way because your mother wears suits like these.”

Jamie smiled at the realization Mrs. Waxerman knew that for certain because she had been spying on them.

“The rest are mostly see-through.” She held up one of the matching black fence net halter top and g- strings they bought the night before at the porn store. She explained that they let the sun through so you get an allover tan as if she was a blonde bimbo who didn’t understand that they also let people’s eye sight through.

“They are completely see through!” Mrs. Waxerman was visibly shaken that the webbing of the bikini top left the nipples fully visible.

“No Ma’am, there is a tiny Velcro piece that can be inserted. I just have to find it.” She bent over the box fully naked telling herself Mrs. Waxerman was secretly enjoying this, despite her consternation so she didn’t feel so guilty for being so shocking.

“I see that you have the same piercings your mother had when I was here earlier in the week.” Mrs. Waxerman folded her arms while holding Mr. Snips on his leash.

“Yes Ma’am, I got that at the county fair on Thursday night.” So much had happened since then, that it had become a part of her. The metal hoops were still holding her in a constant state of arousal and heightened senses but she had grown accustomed to them.

“Your mother’s influence on you is very strong.” Mrs. Waxerman said before dismissively adding, “Just put on the first one you tried on, but don’t think that I can keep the neighbors from finding out you cavort around like this. They’ll definitely talk about it.”

“I understand, Ma’am, thank you for trying to dispel the rumors about me.” She lied, knowing full well it was Mrs. Waxerman who spread them feverishly. She stepped into the one piece monokini and had it on over her shoulders.

“What is written on your backside?”

Jamie turned around and spread her cheeks “WHORE, Ma’am”

“Angels up in heaven! You engaged in prostitution with the Egyptians, your neighbors with large genitals, and aroused my anger with your increasing promiscuity ~Ezekiel 16:25-27! Is that permanent?” She quoted an obscure biblical scripture as if just saying it gave her the confidence to deal with this.

Jamie remembered bragging about what she’d say if Mrs. Waxerman asked her about the tattoo at the fair.

“I am the whore daughter, of a whore mother, and I was marked, as I will mark any daughters I bear, unless providence gives me a husband strong enough to save them of my wicked influence, I do declare.” She said in her sweet southern drawl Dixie Sinclair voice.

Mrs. Waxerman placed her hand upon her forehead as if to faint. She was speechless.

Jamie added “My mother got a matching one too. I can tell you hate it?” Jamie said with a smile as if she was oblivious to Mrs. Waxermans anguished writhing.

“"Ye shall not make any cuttings in your flesh for the dead, nor print or tattoo any marks upon you: I am the Lord. ~ Leviticus 19:28!" She shouted a bible verse at the girl.

“I was told it’s because we are whores, sort of like the Scarlet Letter. They marked her with an A for her wickedness.” Jamie was very familiar with that story, and it seemed as plausible an answer as any.

“I believe it is an abomination.”

Jamie smiled as she imagined Chris saying, “An Abottomination” or something about her reaction. She wished he was there right now to interject some levity. Mrs. Waxerman’s intensity was scaring her.

“Well, it is what my Dad and brother wanted, so I did it, I am sorry Ma’am if it offends you.” She apologized sweetly, no longer holding herself apart so Mrs. Waxerman could read the letter O in the WHORE. My Dad believes in five values, Work, Humility, Obedience, Respect and Enthusiasm and this was to teach me the acronym.”

Victoria lightened up at that answer. Jamie’s latest explanation was unexpected and acceptable to her. She quoted Colossians 3:20: "Children, obey your parents in all things: for this is well pleasing unto the Lord." And smiled.

“I thought it was something else, but I agree with your father’s wisdom. Hard work, humility, obedience, respect and enthusiasm are good values. I just wish they didn’t spell whore by coincidence.”

“It is no coincidence, Ma’am. I am being taught it is better to be industrious good little whores than to be self-absorbed bitches. Can I show you the chart in the kitchen?”

Mrs. Waxerman made a show of indulgence as she followed Jamie. There was really nothing she would rather do on the planet than dig into the dirty details of the Taylor family, even if she didn’t say it.

“This chart shows my progress in the areas of each letter. I have to earn one from each letter in WHORE to earn a star. I can also earn about three stars a day, just by using HOPE, Ma’am”.

“Hope Miller? She is another of the neighborhood girls whose behavior is despicable. There was a loud party last night, and I have it on very good authority she was running around naked at all hours of the night at that loud party with a whole host of jezebels. I wouldn’t even be surprised if you were there!”

“Oh Ma’am, you wound me. Actually, I mean to say that HOPE stands for Humility, Obedience, Patience and Endurance. They are the corner stones of what my dad is teaching me.

Victoria wanted to go into more detail about rumors that she had hear about Hope Miller’s father and his infidelity but this was far more interesting to her.

“If I earn 100 stars, then my father believes I will have learned my lesson and no longer be such a brat. I am almost half way there!” Jamie pointed proudly to the 49 gold stars they had placed on the chart.

“I see your mother trails behind you even in this.” Mrs. Waxerman was ever the Debby Downer looking at the negative side.

“Yes Ma’am, but we are both trying and doing as much as we can to be good. If we don’t hurry, I may not finish your lawn in time.”

“We will go when I am good and ready, do not rush me.” Mrs. Waxerman was taking mental photographs of the chart and the kitchen. She noted it was very clean, much cleaner than it had been previously. “Okay, I am ready to go.” She announced and Jamie followed still smirking.

“Would you like to take my father’s enema stand? He just bought it last night.” Jamie felt a lot more confident. Victoria had momentarily had the wind taken out of her sails trying to process everything she was seeing and hearing and it had made her seem less intimidating. She also knew she was getting an enema either way so she may as well seem happy about it.

“How obscene to cart such a device around the neighborhood.” Mrs. Waxerman was recharging her derision and she added, “I’ve an antique clyster syringe that has been in the family for years that will do just fine. I would have loaned it to your father, but I am afraid that Chris might break it. It is a precious family heirloom.”

“It sounds too good for my asshole, Ma’am?”

“Would you watch your mouth, young lady? You aren’t too old to have it washed out with soap and hot sauce.” Mrs. Waxerman was back at 100% disgust with lasers charged and ice daggers ready to be stared. “It may very well be too good for you, but it served the Waxerman clan for many years, it is a very healthy tool and not intended to be used for gratification. You are grinning now, because you look forward to it. Well, I will tell you I will give you a proper enema that you will respect and thank me for, but you won’t have that cat that ate the canary smile on your lips when you get it from me.”

“Yes Ma’am” Jamie wiped the smile off her face and quietly wondered if she had pushed a little too far. She wished her mom was there so she could follow her lead.

Mrs. Waxerman walked in front of Jamie refusing to look directly at her skimpy blue bikini, casting only occasional side long glances when a car or jogger passed and leered at Jamie.

“I suppose you like the attention that the young men are giving you?” Victoria asked when they were approaching her home.

“No Ma’am, I am not supposed to take pleasure in it. I am supposed to just accept it, and learn to be gracious about it. I cannot help that they look at me.” Jamie was walking without heels for the first time in a long time and her calf muscles ached as the sidewalk singed the bottom of her tender feet.

“John 2:16 tells us that for everything in the world--the cravings of sinful man, the lust of his eyes and the boasting of what he has and does--comes not from the Father but from the world. I suppose it is right of your father to prepare you for the sinful eyes of man, and have the wisdom to accept that which you cannot change.” Mrs. Waxerman’s biblical quote wasn’t a hissing barb of admonition like her earlier ones. She was more placid and accepting this time in her justification.

“I don’t really know a lot about the Bible, Ma’am.” Jamie wished she wouldn’t make her feel so guilty about what she was doing. She believed in God but she had not given any serious thought to it.

“I would expect you to know nothing of the scripture, because your jezebel mother has no use for it. She cannot teach what she does not know. Your father works so hard, that he hasn’t time to do the wife’s job and his own as head of the household and breadwinner.”

Jamie hadn’t the heart to break it to her that her father had been out of work for months. They were almost at Mrs. Waxerman’s house. She had felt virtually naked in the one piece string microkini, although by comparison to what she had on the night before it was comforting.

Victoria removed a clicker from her purse and opened her garage revealing all of her gardening implements neatly placed on shelves. Everything was hand powered and well maintained and it smelled of WD-40 and moth balls in her garage. “Have you seen a push reel lawn mower before, Girl?”

“In old timey movies, Ma’am.” Jamie didn’t realize how stinging that must sound until after she said it. She made to apologize but Mrs. Waxerman hushed her knowingly.

“That’s alright; you don’t see these very often any longer. Just put it in front of you, keep your feet away from the blades and push and you should have the hang of it. The blades are very sharp so don’t touch them either.” Mrs. Waxerman introduced her to the garden shears and a hand edger that she could use to leave a perfect edge along her sidewalk and driveway where the grass meets the cement. Then she went inside to leave Jamie working in the hot sun.

It was already 11am at this point. Jamie tried to stay focused on her work, but she was wondering if her Mom was already home from shopping and undergoing her own punishment. She tried to mentally calculate how many ice cubes she could take in her mouth before she’d have to stick them in her ass. She wondered if she would dare to put one in her cunt. She had to get her mind off that mental image because the stimulation of the Lycra material clinging to her body and rubbing the piercings was already making her wet.

It was hot but with the breeze blowing through her hair she wasn’t very sweaty. She had only cut a small portion of the front and she was already wishing she had taken off her makeup. She didn’t want to come to Mrs. Waxerman’s door already, asking for something after just 10 minutes of cutting the grass so she soldiered on.

Twice the old man who lived next door came out to water his lawn and she waved at him both times. She pretended to naively have no idea he was out there to gawk. The first time he had a smile on his face and it had been a happy accident. Jamie pictured him saying to himself, “I better go back out there again!” as the nice old man pretended to be interested in watering his lawn.

She smiled at him to let him know with her body language it was okay to look. He didn’t say anything to her, and the more she acknowledged him the more shy he became. Jamie enjoyed the feeling of intimidating someone who had so many years on her. It was empowering to her.

She was athletic enough that pushing the mower through the grass wasn’t that difficult. She had to redo the same patch several times but she had never used a gas mower to have any idea what she was missing so she thought nothing of the toil.

Cars would slow down and wives would slap husbands on the shoulder, or teenagers would honk.Each time Jamie would just wave and smile like a foolish blonde slut who doesn’t realize she is a traffic hazard. It was not a busy road and no one got hurt, so she just grinned and got used to the gawking. She was thankful for a chance to warm up before the pool party. That would probably be far more intense and crowded.

She took satisfaction in finishing the front lawn before she started trimming the hedges. Her hands started to blister using the heavy wooden shears almost immediately. She broke a nail but soldiered on.

The old man neighbor was back again. This time he was emboldened to actually speak to Jamie. “You do windows too?”

“Windows Vista?” Jamie said absent-mindedly.

“No, not computers. I was joking. Never mind, it was foolish.” He started to walk away.

“Like a maid, you mean, Sir?”

“Yes!” he spun on his heel. He was wearing a yellow sweater and a white golf hat despite the fact that it was a hot day. He seemed kindly and very lonely. His false teeth didn’t set quite right in his mouth which gave the impression he had an oversized smile.

“I am just here to mow her lawn, trim the hedges, and edge, Sir.” Jamie stopped what she was doing.

“You aren’t wearing gloves?” The old man seemed surprised she would take on these chores without them.

“I am not wearing a lot of things, Sir.” Jamie said with more confidence than she thought she had about her situation.

“That is true.” The elderly gentleman thought for a moment. “How much is she paying you?”

“She isn’t Sir, my father sent me over here as a punishment.”

“Well, I’ve lived next to Victoria for going on seventeen years, and I can see why your father would see that as a punishment. If you’d like to make some extra money, I’ll pay you to mow my lawn. You can even use my riding mower.”

Jamie thought about his offer and gave him her brother’s cell phone number. “If you would call my brother Chris, and tell him you’d like me to mow your lawn, he can set it up, Sir!” She smiled sweetly.

“He is like a business manager, is he?”

“Something like that Sir. I better get back to work before Mrs. Waxerman comes out. Will you excuse me?”

“Oh yes, we wouldn’t want that.” He quietly excused himself mentally repeating the phone number he had just been given so he didn’t forget it. He felt energized like a high school kid who just got a first date and he was going to call once he got inside.

When Jamie finished the front lawn she knocked on Mrs. Waxerman’s front door and waited for her. She opened it cautiously and waited for Jamie to ask something.

“I’ve finished the front lawn, Ma’am.”

“Okay?” Mrs. Waxerman seemed to be perplexed why Jamie felt the need to share that with her.

“Did you not want to inspect my work to make sure it was acceptable?”

Victoria narrowed her eyes at Jamie and considered her for a long time. “I think sometimes you are taunting me, trying to pretend to be polite to butter me up. I do not yet know the wicked game you are playing, but I will indulge you.” There were times that she totally disbelieved this child and discounted everything she said as totally a fabrication bent on getting out of discipline – this was the first time she admitted that Jamie might be just pushing her buttons and trying to rile her up.

Jamie imagined the metaphorical humiliation Jenga tower she had been building with Mrs. Waxerman was starting to wobble, so she may have to reel in some of her responses and tone them down.

Waxerman walked out onto the lawn and looked for fault where she could find it. She pointed out mistakes that Jamie had made. Uneven gaps in the edging and stray patches of grass she had missed.

“These are very hasty., Do you not check your work first?”

Jamie realized she hadn’t and apologized again. “Shall I do the back now, Ma’am?”

“I suppose so, and then you’ll want me to clear your blockage?”

“My blockage, Ma’am?”

“Remedy your constipation. Do you not understand even the simplest of things dear girl?”

“Oh yes, thank you Ma’am. I’ve been gorging myself on cheez-whiz and crackers.” She said the line she was supposed to say exactly as it was written on her punishment card. Her brother had changed the script when he told Victoria about the Patented Waxerman Tabasco Colonic’s she’d been receiving at home not being strong enough, but she remained true to it in spirit.

“I’ll come knock when I’ve finished the backyard.”

“See that you are more mindful and I do not have to make so many corrections to your work. I could have done it myself in the time it took me to point out your mistakes.” She shut the door on Jamie’s face without another word bluntly ending the conversation. Jamie had only seen inside very briefly – noting the house being filled with alcoves filled with bric-a-brac and oddities.

Jamie could see shelves of old books and biblical scriptures on placards arranged all over the walls with old family photos. She thought she saw

“Very well," he said, "I will let you bake your bread over cow manure instead of human excrement."

~Ezekial 4:15

On one of them, but decided that was too far out to actually be real. She had only had a moment to take a mental snapshot of the antiques and memories adorning the old woman’s house. She assumed she had read scripture wrong and smiled.

Jamie brought all the gardening tools into the fenced in backyard. The yard was as large as her own backyard and had very few trees and a single row of hedges along one side. It was completely private and surrounded by houses on all sides just like her own yard. She stepped out of her microkini and hung it on the fence as her punishment card had explicitly instructed her. She thought it may have even been in the spirit of the white alert to ask permission to disrobe before she worked in the backyard but she was a stickler for following rules and she would do her best to adhere to it. She was to wait until asked why she did that to explain herself.

As she exerted herself in the noonday sun, her heart raced and her pulse quickened while she mowed completely nude. The Lycra swimsuit had covered very little but having nothing on at all had an entirely different vibe to it.

There was this element of, ‘I hope I don’t get caught’ that she hadn’t had with the swimsuit. Her feet were also itching from the grass and her hands throbbing from the sheers.

Jamie was coated in an oily sheen of sweat now. It was sickly sweet to smell and she could smell it mixing with the juices rolling down her thigh. Her clit ring had been particularly tickling her with every-solid stamp of her foot to push the mower through the crabgrass that dominated the backyard.

She found her muscles more taut and that she was getting a good aerobic workout from the exertion.

When she finished mowing the lawn, she wiped her eyes with her sweaty arm. This only caused her already irritated eyes from the makeup to sting more. The no-see-em gnats had picked up on her smell and honed in around her face and she was brushing them away. She was feeling sticky and exhausted as she started edging. She was longing for an ice cold drink.

She pictured Mrs. Waxerman smiling with a big pitcher of delicious lemonade. It was not too tart and not too sweet and she could drink all she wanted of it. She was daydreaming about the approval of Mrs. Waxerman and quenching her thirst at the same time and it was taking her to a happy place.

BOY #1 [JIMMY]: “What ya doing?”

A very familiar voice was right behind her. She spun around to see where it was coming from.

The Pooper Snoopers were standing right behind her. They weren’t hiding behind a fence. They were also holding her bathing suit they had retrieved off the fence.

“Jimmy?” She had expected them to be much smaller and younger. Jamie was 5’10 and they only stood a head shorter than her. The first thing she noticed after the boys big smiles was they all three had closely shaved buzzcuts.

They instantly reminded Jamie of the ‘Dewberry Boys’ from the movie ‘Because of Winn Dixie’. The rough and tumble country boys who chase down Opal the main character on their bikes and call her ‘bologna breath’ but in the end turn out to accept her as a friend.

“What are you doing here?” Jimmy was holding her bikini and grinning.

“I am mowing Mrs. Waxerman’s yard, Sir.” Jamie had found it easier to call them Sir when she didn’t see their goofy, immature expressions. The humiliation at having to address them as superiors had increased tremendously now that she finally met them.

“We normally mow Nah-nahs yard.”

Jamie assumed that Mrs. Waxerman was their grandmother. Jamie had thought such a bitter old woman was a spinster and lived alone. It made sense now that she thought about the Pooper Snooper boy’s behavior. They

always seemed a little odd, like they were out of the 1950s. Most kids were at home playing computer games or instant messaging, but they seemed to always be outside playing. It made sense to Jamie that her grandkids came across like they had that same traditional upbringing she did.

“I was sent over to do it as a punishment, Sir.” Jamie smiled without trying to cover herself. Her instincts told her to cover up, but they had spent hours watching her and her mom outside and there was nothing that she had on her body that they hadn’t seen. Jamie took a few deep breaths and tried to remain calm.

“For saying a dirty word?” Jimmy asked.

“No, you remember I was punished for that this morning. I was sent over here for other things I did wrong.” Jamie didn’t want to explain all the sordid details and reasons for her punishment to them. It wasn’t just because she was embarrassed of admitting the reasons, it was that she felt they may not understand.

“What other things did you do wrong?” A new voice emerged from the sliding glass door that opens into the backyard. It was Mrs. Waxerman and she looked particularly angry. “They harvest a field they do not own, and they glean in the vineyards of the wicked! Job 24:6” Mrs. Waxerman quoted the bible again before adding, “Were you being punished for exposing your obscene nakedness to the impressionable innocents?”

Mrs.Waxerman was frequently flabbergasted and inconsolable towards Jamie. This façade was punctuated with brief periods where she would try to reason with the girl. It seemed to Jamie as if Victoria longed for interaction and most of all the opportunity to show scorn. She was secretly getting off on lecturing Jamie whether she realized or would admit or not.

Waxerman was unyielding and intransigent with her beliefs about what was proper and right. In order to truly savor in that she had to have an example of someone who wasn’t living up to those standards for comparison and ridicule and the Taylors had been feeding her like a gourmet chef feeds a fat person. She might have realized they had been

pushing her buttons if she hadn’t wanted so badly for someone to push them this way deep down inside.

“No ma’am, my father knows they’ve been watching my mother and I sunbathe in the nude every day.” Taken by surprise, Jamie volunteered her answer without thinking .

“You boys have been peeping on the Taylors?” Victoria became enraged at the thought of the boys of spying on another family. It never occurred to her it was her own stock and trade.

“Yes Ma’am, but we never went into their yard, no matter how many times they invited us.” One of the boys offered as an excuse.

“You tried to lure my young grandsons into your yard?” Mrs. Waxerman focused her vitriol back on Jamie.

“My father just told us to invite them over since they had been talking to us. My brother invited them to meet us at the pool party, Ma’am.” What Jamie said was all true and it eased Mrs. Waxerman’s concerns the way the explanation was phrased.

“We knew you didn’t want us to go to the pool party, so we didn’t agree though, Ma’am.” Jimmy offered as a defense.

“The plan has been changed.” Mrs. Waxerman announced. “Jamie’s dear father wants me to drop her off at the Community Pool, so if you can refrain from rough housing you are allowed to attend.”

There was a loud cheering from the boys that they could attend the event. Jamie quickly learned their names were Jimmy, Gordon and Zeke. The one called Zeke was “Ezekial” to Mrs. Waxerman when he had broken rules.

“Now, can you tell me why you stand here completely naked in the backyard?”

“My father told me to take off the suit when I was working in the backyard so that I didn’t get it sweaty. I didn’t think anyone would see because the backyard is fenced in, Ma’am.” Jamie offered with a pouted lip as if to evoke sympathy.

It might have in others, but cynical Victoria Waxerman took her expression as a form of manipulation. “Did you stop to think I might have some prying eyes who should not be exposed to you in your nakedness?”

“I didn’t Ma’am, I thought you lived alone.” Jamie hadn’t intended that to sting in how she said it. She wanted to reel it back in even before the words left her tongue.

“You think I am an old Spinster who nobody loves, do you?” Mrs. Waxerman asked.

“I never said that, Ma’am.” Jamie swallowed.

“Yet, you thought it!” Mrs. Waxerman held up a finger like it was an exclamation point at the end of her sentence. “So what did you do to earn this punishment of having to come be neighborly to the old spinster, hmm?”

Jamie felt increasingly more vulnerable and this question made her heart palpitate. She didn’t want to play “White Alert” with Mrs. Waxerman. She didn’t want to say anything too disgusting in front of the Pooper Snooper Boys even though they had heard her and her mom say a few things that may have been racy she was all alone now. She was feeling guilty.

“Don’t lie, because I WILL be asking your father for the truth!” Mrs. Waxerman demanded turning the finger she held up to point at Jamie like a metaphorical hot poker.

“May I tell you in private, Ma’am?” Jamie felt ashamed of what she had to say in front of the boys.

“You may certainly not. You’ve already exposed my precious grandchildren to your private parts. Surely nothing you can say is more offensive than that. It will do them good to learn from your punishment what happens to loose girls who have no modesty!”

“I fell asleep in class.” Jamie’s answer made Mrs. Waxerman pause. It looked like she were about to say that the punishment may have been too hard for just that. We may never know since Jamie continued with the second offense. “Every day my brother gives me one chance to masturbate at school as long as it is photographed and documented. I was late sending those pictures to my father.”

Mrs. Waxerman looked disturbed. She was about to offer a scathing remark when Jamie continued with her explanation.

“That isn’t all – I also agreed to suck off the dicks of three boys at school in order to get my phone back without asking for permission from my brother or father.” Jamie had been able to admit this with a very brave face to her father and mother when she was reviewing her charges the day before. This time her teeth were chattering and she was shaking.

Victoria was surprisingly calm in the same way someone who is about to go on a shooting spree at the post office probably appears right before their frenetic violent outburst. “If I understand you, your brother limits you to playing with yourself once per day?”

“At school, Ma’am.” There were tittering snickers from the boys when Jamie said this.

“You then lost the phone your father allowed you to do this wicked deed of self-gratification with and the only way you felt you could get it back was to offer mouth-copulation to your fellow classmates?”

“Yes Ma’am, I know it sounds bad when you say it like that!” Jamie thought perhaps she had told the story a little wrong. She knew that her father wouldn’t want to be made to sound like the bad guy for forcing all of this on her.

She was trying to explain it in such a way that wasn’t quite honest and she was already regretting that approach since now her lies weren’t making sense to her.

They made sense to Mrs. Waxerman. “You are telling me your mother has corrupted you so wholly, that you would masturbate all the time at school and that to control your behavior your Father indulges by letting you do it once without punishment as long as you document for him that you were supervised?”

Jamie puckered her lips almost making the duck kissy-face that got her in trouble at Petsmart. She wanted to clarify that wasn’t quite right.

This was particularly amusing to the Pooper Snoopers. “You give us salt-peter and tell us we’ll burn as fornicators when you catch us masturbating, Nah-Nah! Her father lets her do it once every day as a freebie!?” Gordon asked as if he thought Jamie was getting a better deal than him.

“Quiet Gordon.” Mrs. Waxerman continued to speculate “And you would offer oral sexual gratification to boys to get whatever you want, as often as you could. Your father and brother knowing that you are beyond reprehension allow this if you get their permission first?” Mrs. Waxerman answered her own question. “As the Lord is my witness, they are far too lenient! Spare the rod and spoil the child ~ Proverbs 13-24. They should not allow you any masturbation time or any oral copulation!!”

Jamie was thinking on her feet. She was generally a very honest person and had playfully gone along with the family when Mrs. Waxerman visited in the past. The explanation that Mrs. Waxerman had developed in her own imagination sounded as good as any and didn’t make her father and brother sound like the bad guys.

“Yes, that is exactly it.” Jamie admitted as if there was nothing she could do about it with a c’est l’vie shrug of her shoulders she added, “I am a little cocksucker, and now you see why I didn’t want to tell you my punishment in front of the pooper snoopers, Ma’am?”

“The ‘pooper whats’?”

“Oh sorry, my mom called them the pooper snoopers, ‘cause for the longest time we only knew Jimmy’s name. I am only just learning the other two, Ma’am.”

Gordon and Zeke waved at Jamie when she mentioned them and she waved back sweetly. The fact that they had an old-fashioned, naïve quality to them only made Jamie more sensitive that maybe they really shouldn’t have heard all this. They seemed like such obedient kids who weren’t allowed to even go to the community pool party and were thankful to get to go that Jamie felt a tinge of guilt even if they were undressing her with their eyes (And she was already naked!).

“Do they look like they sniff poop?” Mrs. Waxerman pursing her lips into a new previously unseen look of contempt.

“No ma’am, I don’t think she meant it like that. I think it’s because it seemed like they were always outside, lurking around and snooping.”

“Eves dropping and snooping? How do you accuse anyone in my family of such a blatantly base form of gossip and scandal!”

“I didn’t mean offense, Ma’am. You asked me to explain the name we called them. It was never meant as an insult.” Jamie was once again on solid ground with the truth and it made her feel so much more at ease. She barely noticed the grinning faces of the boys leering at her nakedness.

“When your father sends you over here for punishment in the future, you are to inform him that I must be made aware and approve of any stipulations he has. There is to be no cavorting in my backyard without a stitch of clothing!” Mrs. Waxerman demanded before adding, “Unless I approve of it.”

Mrs. Waxerman’s face was a distilled mixture of disapproval and disappointment. Jamie managed to pick up on the last thing she just said that she wasn’t as mortified as she let on. This was that thing Mrs. Waxerman did where she acted like she was sick to her stomach to hear or see something, but dug herself in and continued to watch.

“Yes Ma’am, I am sorry about that.”

“What have you to be sorry about? If you spoke the truth and your punishment required you to disrobe without asking permission, in order that you not sully and sweat in your already too small swimsuit, then you’ve nothing to fear.”

Her punishment had explicitly stated that she do just that. Jamie was quite confident she would be vindicated.

“However, YOU can neither be half pregnant nor half-truthful. You either are telling the truth, or you are not. If you’ve misinformed me, I believe your father will make you repeat the punishment over once my grass grows out the proper way?”

Jamie remembered one other stipulation in her punishment. She was to tell Mrs. Waxerman that her father wasn’t administering the enema’s correctly after claiming to be constipated and begging for her to give her one ‘properly’. Then she was to beg Mrs. Waxerman not to tell her father which would ensure that Victoria would do just that.

So far Jamie had been making a mess of the ‘white alert’ she was supposed to be doing. This was the status her father gave a name to only the previous night - The “fun status”. The Taylor women were to behave as if they were wanton sluts in need of correction and guidance.

They had evolved into doing it in the previous two visits to their house and when she caught her dancing with her mother on the lawn in the sprinklers. Jamie had been more confident then because her mom had been doing it with her and her brother and dad coaxed her. At the pet store she had gotten into a game of one-upmanship with her mom when the competitive side of her came out. Her mom had voluntarily started the dare that her father hadn’t picked – humiliation Jenga and she had all this confidence.

For the last five minutes she had felt like her knees were knocking and her butterflies were crying to get out of her tummy in part because she felt so guilty finally seeing the pooper snoopers face to face. They had fresh innocent faces.

Their jeering and comments about getting caught playing with themselves made them seem a little more human and a little more fallible. She had also seen Mrs. Waxerman really did seem to enjoy it when she played the wanton slut even if she refused to admit it. She decided to try and redeem herself by giving it the “old college try” and risk interpreting her punishment’s instructions even if it meant playing with the truth.

“You got me. I lied to get out of more punishment. Please don’t tell my father, Mrs. Waxerman?”

“Oh, it’s Mrs. Waxerman when you want something instead of just Ma’am?” Victoria sounded skeptical.

“Actually Ma’am, I am not supposed to become familiar and address my betters as peers unless explicitly instructed too. Please don’t tell my father I broke another rule, Ma’am?” Jamie found it hard not to smile at her roleplaying. Her father might actually punish her, but she would tell him why she did this and hope he was genuinely amused.

Waxerman could huff and puff and intimidate the kindly old man who had offered Jamie money to mow his lawn. She could intimidate the home owners association. She could scare half the ‘desperate housewives’ that make up the clique in her neighborhood of women her mom’s age that she’d reveal what dirty little secrets they all kept. She could definitely keep the pooper snooper boys in line. She could even intimidate a store clerk or three.

However, Jamie was having a revelation that she should be playing things up even though Chris and Bill weren’t there to support her slut act. She really had very little left to lose anyway.

“You honestly expect me not to tell your father that you pranced around my yard naked to ‘sunbathe’ when you should be mowing my lawn and working hard while thinking about the very reason you are being punished so you can show some honest contrition?” Victoria said the term ‘sunbathe’ but implied ‘allegedly sunbathing.”

“It isn’t like you can punish me yourself, though!” Jamie dared. She liked the look on Mrs.Waxerman’s face of righteous indignation when she said that. She felt a little like Robin Hood standing up to the evil sheriff of Nottingham – well maybe Maid Marion. The Pooper Snoopers were her ‘merry men’ delighted and surprised to see anyone confront their “Nah-nah”.

“Well that could very well be. You aren’t my kin, and I’ve not the right to lay hands on you even if you are desperately deserving of an attitude correction, but I could call your father right now, young lady!”

“Alright, please don’t do that” She didn’t wait for Waxerman to try to call her bluff and make the call to her dad. Jamie wasn’t exactly going for the Oscar with her begging but she was doing a convincing job of pretending to be someone who was going back on her story. That was in part because she was making this up as she went and smiling at the freedom of playing the bad girl role. “My father said you can punish me, but no more than ten swats, and only on my...booty butt.”

When she said the ‘booty butt’ word there was instant recognition in Mrs. Waxerman’s eyes. This was obviously a term she had taught the boys because they used it frequently. It was also a term that never ceased to stop amusing them and they burst out in laughter.

“How do you know of that word?” Mrs. Waxerman’s eyes narrowed into a stare that seemed to burrow directly inside Jamie’s head.

“This morning when your grandchildren were watching my mother and I sunbathe….”

Mrs. Waxerman held up a hand, “Grandchildren? These are my nephews!” she replied indignantly. Victoria dressed old, she looked old, she acted old, she talked old, but she did not like to be considered old. That went hand in hand with the fact she was a rumor monger and a busy body to her core, but she loathed rumor mongers and busy bodies and refused to see herself as one.

“I am sorry Ma’am, I meant no disrespect, it’s just that you are in your golden years, and I assumed these would be your grandchildren - My bad.” Jamie felt a little satisfaction at delivering a stinger to Waxerman. She was ordinarily a good person who never said anything insulting but right now she was pretending to be a bad girl and having a little fun with it. She just wished her family was here to egg her on. She pictured Chris delivering an “Oh snap!!” and her mother glancing over at Jamie with her face in a silent ‘well done’ accolade for playing it to the hilt.

“Just continue with your lies and deceptions and dig your hole deeper, about my NEPHEWS acting as peeping toms? That is something they would surely know better than to engage in. The Waxermans would never involve themselves in such heinous and reprehensible activities; it is just not in our nature.”

Jamie stifled a belly laugh at the idea that Mrs. Waxerman wasn’t the head of all pooper snoopers herself. She continued her story where she left it off. “When my brother came to tell us our time was up, I believe I accidentally said Ass and..”

This time one of her merry men turned on her. Gordon interrupted ‘Nuh-nuh, liar, liar, liar, pants on fire!”

“What did I say then, Sir?” Jamie smiled sweetly, while baiting her trap.

“You were saying you was self-centered and acted like your s-word doesn’t stink, and only focused on yourself instead of your family!”

Jamie had gambled one of them would correct her. It was not a big gamble. She could have continued to embellish on the reason her brother had punished her. He had been doing it for the boy’s benefit anyway. They were encouraged to cuss because her Dad and Chris liked to make them say the most disgusting and perverted things.

They probably liked hearing it said in her sweet voice, like when Betty White does it on a skit in Saturday Night Live. It is just so difficult to picture someone so innocent doing something so naughty.

“Yes Sir, sorry I was trying to get away with saying Ass because that is only ten punishments, but as you saw my brother whipped both my mother and I for a while because after I said my shit doesn’t stink, she did too.”

The Merry men broke out into a chorus of, “Ooooh, you are gonna SO get it!!” when they heard her say the shit word again.

Mrs. Waxerman was livid. “In your own home, I have tolerated your filthy disgusting mouth. Yet, you come to my yard – my property and you show a complete lack of respect around my nephews.”

“I am sorry Ma’am, I meant to say..” Jamie was shushed with a wave of Mrs. Waxerman’s indignant hand.

“You meant to just repeat the same perfunctory swear word as if you own this property.” Victoria wasn’t finished and Jamie felt a mixture of adrenalin born excitement race down her leg mixed with just a tinge of fear. “You think you are being clever, but you know the solemn book of Malachi 2:3 says “Behold, I will rebuke your offspring, and spread dung on your faces, the dung of your offerings, and you shall be taken away with it!”

Jamie was disturbed that the Bible had so many unusual references like this. She thought back to the placard she had seen for an instant in Mrs. Waxerman’s home about baking bread over cow dung. She had hoped she just read it wrong but now she assumed it may well be a theme of some kind.

“You’ve exposed my nephews for peeping toms with your words, but you also hung yourself by your own spear-point, because you’ve told me you don’t think your excretions stink?” Mrs. Waxerman didn’t wait for Jamie to clarify that she had misspoke and really meant that she was learning not to hold that belief any longer. Victoria was on a roll. “You think you are the queen here and you rule, don’t you?” She didn’t wait for an answer, before adding, “This is my land, Waxerman land, and you abide by Waxerman law when you are on it, do you not?”

“Yes Ma’am, Waxerman law.” Jamie was hoping she hadn’t just agreed to being hung as a witch or something. She would have laughed at the mental image popping in her head of Chris humming the dueling banjo song out of deliverance if she wasn’t starting to get genuinely intimidated.

“Then you will agree to submit to it, or get off my land right now? None of this, only ten swats on the booty butt. A trouble-maker like you is no stranger to punishment and consequence. You would shrug off a lesson such as that with a laugh, wouldn’t you?”

“Okay, you are right.” Just as the dark cloud of intimidation had rolled into Jamie’s mind, now it departed leaving a silver lining. She was laughing on the inside at the idea of being called a trouble-maker. In her 16 years on the planet the word had not been used to describe her until just now. Granted, she had gone on the football field during half time in a chastity belt with latex paint, and she had masturbated with a banana and she had sucked seven cocks the day before this one, so maybe she was a little bit of a trouble maker. She smiled at that thought, feeling like she was shedding some of her preconceived notions of how she had to act, and was expected to act to be playful.

“I am right, what?”

“You are right, Ma’am.” Jamie corrected and added, “My father said you could spank me as much as needed, not just on the booty butt, but my tits, or cunt, basically anywhere except my face, Ma’am.”

There was a chorus of, “Oh no she didn’t!!!” as the boys reacted to the new cuss words and Jamie realized she had let those slip. She used to never cuss but now the words seemed so natural to describe her body.

“Did he say that I could have you cut a birch switch?”

“What is a birch switch, Ma’am?”

There was laughter from the boys because it was obvious to them what it was, since they had been on the receiving end of one several times.

“Oh don’t you boys laugh. You’ll be getting yours as well. I can see why the child is so poorly disciplined and out of control. You’ve never been introduced to a birch switch!” Waxerman pointed to one of the few trees in her backyards and told her she would be selecting an appropriate switch to use.

“Then once you’ve had the switch applied, and I’ve given you an attitude adjustment, I can give you the punishments your father might be too busy or too gentle to deliver to you, but you so desperately need! Your brother bless his soul, may be willing, but he may be too simple to know ways that can particularly keep womenfolk in line and make them more mindful of their manners! You’ll find I will be neither too kind, nor too simple.”

Jamie’s eyes grew wide at that last phrase. She had really stepped in it.

Not only in pushing Mrs. Waxerman’s buttons, but she had literally stepped into Mr. Snips dog doo. She felt the brown squishy clay-like dog poop squish all over the bottom of her bare feet and heard the boys’ laughter as they watched her do it.