CHAPTER FIVE

Reader’s Note: This is Joanne Swift’s journal, adapted for reading, detailing the events around October 8^th (Saturday) 2016.

Scotty opened the door with a confused expression. He knew we didn’t usually run around the kitchen, and I didn’t condone horseplay in the house. Yet there I was, being chased around the kitchen like a laughing fool, as my daughter ran around trying to grab my butt. I was giggling and breathing heavy and immediately became serious – hoping he wouldn’t ask any questions.

I immediately began to fear that I’d opened another Pandora’s box with my youngest son, and now he was going to find out my dirty little secrets as well. I was probably being paranoid though because Scotty was oblivious to our conversation and shrugged off our playful hijinks.

“What do you want, pipsqueak?” Taylor was nothing but blunt.

“To know what you guys are doing?” Scotty cocked his head curiously.

“You don’t give two craps what we’re doing.” Taylor called his bluff.

“I’ll give one crap to know what you are doing.” Scotty grinned and pressed the issue. The embarrassed and humiliated feeling I had was starting to become familiar and persistent now. I had sudden images in my mind of Taylor telling him about what she saw the night before, and all about mommy’s butt-plug.

“Happy to tell you all about it,” I said confidentially. “…right after you take Sandor for a nice long walk,” I added with a grin and a knowing wink at Taylor. I’d promised she wouldn’t have to walk the dog, and Tom has a big thing about keeping one’s word. That’s a core value of our household.

“Awww! I just came to get a Hot Pocket,” Scotty whined, and acted like he was going to starve to death.

“Awww!” Taylor mocked her brother, and told him that he could, “Do what Mom tells you, because you aren’t too old to be put over a knee!”

I almost chuckled out loud at the irony of my daughter repeating an awful threat my own mother used to tell me, and that I had just used on her. It was somewhat endearing she’d took my side, but then Scotty and her were closest in age and had always been rivals of a sort.

“She wouldn’t!” Scotty became indignant at the mere suggestion I’d spank him. He was right, of course – that was the furthest notion from my mind for either of them. I had just panicked in the moment and made an idle threat, one that I’d probably regret.

“No? I would,” Taylor chased her little brother as if to actually spank him and he fled the kitchen quickly to round up Clegane. She grinned devilishly and looked back at me. She could be such a playful spirit, and yet she could also be so willful and inconsiderate.

“Take Clegane for a nice long walk!” I yelled after he left “You kids have been walking him to the front yard just to pee and right back in. Take him all the way up and down the street so he gets some exercise!” I threw in as a reminder. I had to tell them to walk the dog ALL the way down our street if I wanted them to at least go half way down our street – that applied to all of the kids.

Donny wanted to get back to his Xbox; Scotty was kind of lazy; and Janie was just prone to a short attention span and would come back right after walking out the door. Taylor was the willful one who’d stand there talking or texting on her cell phone instead of actually walking him at all! She’d also be the first one to expect ME to clean up his mess when he went inside the house.

Once Scotty left to his task I smiled at Taylor and asked her why she couldn’t back me up like that all the time with her brothers and sister. “We make a good team!” I thanked her for getting her brother to mind me.

“Sure!” Taylor smiled, but became serious as she repeated her request to show her my butt plug. She didn’t wait for me to answer before grabbing my apron and pulling it apart in the back to reveal my bare ass.

“Ack!” I squawked – it was too late for me to do anything to prevent her from pulling the apron open.

“You’re not wearing anything under your apron!” She was amused and shocked as my naked, well-tanned ass popped out. I immediately took control by grabbing the sides of the apron and pulling them closed.

“I am wearing a blouse under my apron, but there’s usually no need to wear anything else under it because people aren’t supposed to pull it open. If I pulled your jeans and panties down to your ankles, do you think you’d have anything under those?”

She didn’t need to know my husband INSISTED I remain without panties or bottoms whenever possible. I had been wearing these French maid-style aprons like this since the kids were little – they were so used to seeing me in them that they probably thought it was my uniform.

“I don’t have panties on either!” she admitted with a bemused giggle – clearly enjoying my awkward explanation.

“How often do you wear nothing under your apron? Have you been doing this my entire life?” Taylor asked, thinking back to how often she’d seen me dressed this way in the house.

I wear a housecoat-style apron every day – Tom gets me all sorts of pretty ones. The kind I really like the most look like the type Donna Reed or June Cleaver would have worn in the 1950s or 1960s on a TV family sitcom. The one I had on today was green with lace in the front, and tied off in the back to cover me all the way around. It was really no different than a very flimsy sundress in a lot of ways. The first one I had was a classic black French maid costume with white ruffles, but I’d since become more practical, and they blended in well, like any normal apparel for around the house. The only difference was that they tied simply in the back, and Tom could easily put his hand under and play with me when no one was looking.

I just had to wear a blouse underneath or my boobs would pop out – and if Tom was the only one home I wouldn’t wear the blouse or a bra either; I cooked for him nude all the time. He liked to say it was one of the many reasons to keep me completely hairless below the neck, and I had to agree – no one wants pubes in their pancakes!

“This is wilder than I thought!” Taylor was impressed with me and giggling at her new discovery.

I looked at the kitchen door and back at her. We had at least five minutes before Scotty would be back, and I knew Donny was lost on his Xbox. Janie would be in her room Facetiming with her friend from the night before, or watching YouTube videos about Minecraft or the Shaytards.

“I’ll make a deal with you.” I told her that I’d show her my butt-plug if she’d stop saying anything about it. I couldn’t very well erase it from her memory, but at least I could get her questions out of the way and take some of her fun out of teasing me.

“I’m not sure I can take that deal.” Taylor told me this was too delicious and rich. I felt so mortified that she knew and now wanted to see it.

“Fine, I’ll show you.” I hoped that this would be the end of it, and I could go about my day making lunch. I would mention this to Tom when we were alone, and we could come tell her how inappropriate it was to talk around the house about sex toys. I would also beg to stop wearing one now that she knew, although a part of me hoped Tom would say no.

In the years before I wore a butt-plug I’d been asked for anal sex dozens of times by different men. Arsenio Hall used to call what I have an “onion booty”, because it’s so fine, it makes you cry. I’ve been told by Tom he can bounce a quarter on it, and men have compared me to Jenifer Lopez. I don’t mean to toot my own horn, and it’s not as big as Kim Kardashian’s, but I can see why men are into butts like it.

I am obviously dating myself here by mentioning Arsenio Hall. That should tell you how long it’s been since I watched late-night talk shows. I’m more of an “Ellen” person now.

The reason I mention this is that Tom was the first and last man I gave my ass to. I thought men who wanted to buttfuck me were probably gay and told them so. I couldn’t see it as pleasurable and told them that “I poop from there.”

I still recall the night I said that to Tom. His answer was, “You don’t right now,” and he took me by the hand into the bedroom. He didn’t take me hard or forcefully. He worked his finger in gently and worked up to it. The first time he penetrated me with his cock he opened me up to the possibility that I was his three-hole whore.

Ever since that night he’s taught me how to keep my asshole lubricated and stretch it out, yet keep the muscles tight so I could accommodate his package while still giving him a tight ride. He’s given me exercises for my pussy and asshole that include dildo training. He’s been patient, and even when I thought that was the biggest I could take in my back door, he’s been confident I could take more.

He’s always been right, graduating me from the smallest latex butt-plug in the store to the massive stainless steel bejeweled plug I wear now.

He has introduced me to a host of anal rings and teasers over the years – but I’ve had this plug now for over a year as my regular training tool, and I’m so used to the weight in my ass that I feel naked when I don’t wear it.

I let go of the back of the apron and flung it aside to reveal my bare ass to my daughter. Despite the fact she said “Oh My Gawd!” and giggled, I pulled my ass cheeks apart, the way I would for Tom when he wants me to display myself, and let her have a few seconds’ look at the crystal at the base of the plug before letting go of my ass cheeks. I felt a satisfying jiggle as they came back together and then closed my apron.

“No, I mean take it out,” Taylor clarified her request.

I told her it was too late, and she’d already got her free show. “You’ve had your fun.” I told her to leave me be and let me prepare lunch. “Your brother will be back in a minute to whine for a snack,” I told her.

“I really want to see it!” she told me. I was almost convinced she was really curious and was tempted to remove it. If I did, I would normally have to clean it with my mouth – that was one of Tom’s first rules.

I know that sounds utterly disgusting, and when he first brought it up I had a thousand reasons not to put something that had been in my pussy or ass in my mouth. He made it clear that if I didn’t like my own taste, he wouldn’t either. Tom told me that he wanted a woman who would suck his dick right after he just fucked me, and that I needed to learn to love his taste and my own. He also made me watch enough porn with him that I was quite certain porn stars had no qualms about licking their sticky juices off of anything – and I wanted Tom to have a porn star-quality wife in the bedroom.

“It’s not happening.” I asked her what her brother would say when he came back with Sandor if I had it out.

“You’re worried he sees the plug, but you weren’t that worried I would last night?” she pointed out. I felt so awful that she saw me tied up – she had to know I was beating myself up much worse than she could over it from just the look on my face.

“We didn’t have any reason to expect you home,” I explained.

“Hello? This is Taylor.” She asked if I even knew her. “You had to know there was a good chance I’d blow this off,” she chuckled. The girl had some nerve to think her own audacious and irresponsible behavior would mean we had to be extra careful for when she unexpectedly blew off a really important night.

“Taylor…” I couldn’t believe I was making deals with her, but I felt so poorly about what happened with the neighbors I said I’d ask her father if I could show it to her later tonight IF she marched across the street and apologized.

I fully intended to remove and clean it in private before I did.

“I have a question.” Taylor ignored my request and asked how I pooped with the plug seated in my ass.

I was beside myself with exasperation at how my daughter had the audacity to even broach the subject with me – even jokingly! I have to admit, though, I had wondered that myself when Tom first told me I’d be wearing it all the time. “I take it out,” I told her, without going into detail that I keep it in my mouth and squatted over the bowl when I’m alone.

“Gross!” She scrunched her nose just like her sister often did when she heard something disgusting but actually wanted to see or hear more about it. “You set it on the countertops WE use?” she asked indignantly.

“I assure you that your brothers are far more disgusting and often fail to wash their hands and put them all over the countertop.” She continued to make an issue of it and I told her that when she was six I caught her rubbing her older brother’s tooth brush up and down her ass crack! “I bet you don’t remember that!” I said of the embarrassing moment.

Taylor smiled and said she actually did remember that.

“I’ll keep your secret. I won’t mention that you used to do that if you keep my secret.”

“I can’t do that,” Taylor said with a wry grin. When I asked her why, she said she’d already shown the video to her friends Summer and Kimber.

“WHAT VIDEO?” I said far too loudly for my own comfort. I could feel my anxiety starting to rise – I began to run through all sorts of awful scenarios in my mind of some embarrassing video bouncing around the internet for the world to see.

“The video I took with my iPhone when dad spanked your ass in front of me last night,” and before I could deny the existence, she calmly pulled out the small phone and started to play the video for me.

“Oh my god, that thing is in the cloud now?!” I was panicking and furious at the same time.

“Relax.” Taylor promised she could delete if only I did something for her.

“Fine, I’ll show you the damned plug!” I was already reaching behind me with practiced precision for removing it. “You just delete the video and this never happened.” I was hoping to wake up from this nightmare at any moment.

“No, we’re past that now,” Taylor calmly dismissed my offer. She told me that I was going to leave the apron slightly untied and serve lunch. “All you have to do is pretend you don’t realize your butt’s showing, and if anyone says a word to you about it, then you can tie it up in the back,” she said.

“Tempting as your offer may be…” I was being sarcastic; I told her absolutely not. “I’m not going to show my ass to your brothers and sister too!”

“Why not, Mah-ahm?” I’ll never forget Taylor dragging out the word ‘Mom’ before saying, “It isn’t something they haven’t seen already!”

“I don’t care what THEY have seen – they haven’t seen MY ass and I intend to keep it that way, Missy!” I lectured my daughter on the point.

“A butt is a butt is a butt,” Taylor rolled her eyes dismissively and said that even her younger brother has one. “It’s not a ba-donk-a-donk like yours,” she said. Taylor described her brother’s ass as flat like a pancake and by comparison not nearly as spectacular. I might have been flattered if I hadn’t been beside myself with worry and humiliation over the video. “Asses are unisex, other than hair and the curve – you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all!” Taylor casually made it seem like no big deal.

My daughter seemed quite certain I was overreacting, but it wasn’t HER ass we were talking about. I didn’t want to remind her that it was mine, and in the center of it was a bejeweled stainless-steel butt-plug firmly planted in my rear hole. “Geez, this is no big whoop.” She sounded perturbed she even had to explain herself to me.

Tom preferred seeing me plugged; not only to train me, but on the occasions we went out of the house to a fetish activity, where I was going to be dressed provocatively, he INSISTED I have a prominent butt-plug between my cheeks. He said that I didn’t look “as naked” because the pink nub wasn’t visible.

Can you imagine a wife willing to parade naked in front of other people at a fetish event being told the pinkness of her asshole was too vulgar to display, and she had to wear a butt plug? Some times what I enjoyed most about my submission was a feeling of satisfaction at allowing him to talk to me in a way that I would allow no one else in the world. He could be crude, vulgar, and controlling in the bedroom and at events like this, and I was his dutiful slave.

“It isn’t going to shock them at all, Mom.” Taylor was still waiting for an answer, as if I hadn’t already settled this already.

“How many times and ways do I have to tell you no?” I wasn’t going to cave in. I asked her what she meant when she said not shocking them at all. I suspected she meant she had shown her brothers and sister the video she took.

Taylor clarified that Donny and Scotty had Internet and had seen countless racks of boobs and butts. “Jeez, Mom, they even have flip-up Fridays at Janie’s school!”

This was supposed to ease my mind?

I was relieved that Taylor hadn’t shown them the video. I can be a little anal-retentive, though, and Taylor hadn’t come out and explicitly said she had NOT shown them the video. It’d be like her to play a little cat-and-mouse game with me, and then come out and say flippantly “Oh, of course I already showed them the video.” I felt like my world might implode in on itself if they watched it, and that was the ONLY reason I continued to entertain this conversation with her.

Taylor had also said something about my youngest daughter’s school that made me wary.

“What are ‘flip-up Fridays’?” I was afraid of whatever the answer was, but when my youngest was concerned I could be very overprotective and cautious.

“She didn’t tell you?” Taylor calmly described the unwritten, but common, practice that girls who wear skirts on Friday at Cherry Lawn Middle are basically giving boys permission to flip their skirt up. “Some of them wear panties, and others don’t,” she said, continuing that it had been a long-standing tradition at the school for years.

I didn’t want to believe her. This was yet another thing I was going to bring up at the parent-teacher conference to get to the bottom of it – but I had no reason to actually doubt her. The world was getting crazier. There were prime-time TV shows on cable where people dated naked or went out to the jungle and survived naked for a week. There were shows that glorified teen pregnancy and made them reality TV stars. It wouldn’t be too far of a stretch that these ‘flip-up Fridays’ were a real thing.

“Do you know about the jelly bracelets?” Taylor started to explain that girls wore these rubber bracelets of different colors to signify different naughty things they’ll do if some boy comes and breaks the bracelet with his fingers.

“I’ve heard enough.” I told her that I’d do her dare IF she doesn’t tell her father and deleted the video off the internet. I would tell Tom myself when he got home and ask him to intervene.

“I can’t promise they won’t tell him,” she said.

“They won’t,” I told her, because I was going to do this in such a way that they wouldn’t think much of it. I’d actually done many flashing games with Tom in public places over the years. I know I seem like this typical house-mom, but Tom loves to make love in public places. He likes it more to take me someplace and order me to sit with my legs apart while wearing no panties, or go to a bar wearing a white shirt with nothing underneath that reveals the outline of my hard, pink nipples.

I always get embarrassed, and Tom says that turns him on more, that I’m willing to expose myself for him anyway. I actually wonder how men can stare at a woman in her early 40’s, even though Tom reminds me I’ve got a hot ass and great tits.

I let him make up fun little dare games and challenges, like I have to bend over at the grocery store and pick everything up from the lowest shelf without bending at the knees. He scores and grades my performance afterwards, and I’m the type of person who kind of gets off on being scored and graded.

I also do that for him because other wives don’t play slutty little games with their husbands – and it pleases me to turn him on that way. If some guy smiles because he caught the flash of boobs or my ass when I’m bending over, so much the better for him. I never did it to be offensive, vulgar, or rude – and always quite cautiously.

I would never have claimed to be an extrovert – and I think Tom would have been bored with me if I was. If I didn’t mind flashing my body at anyone and got off on it then he might have lost interest in seeing me do it. Tom enjoyed my submission and doing something well outside of my comfort zone and staunch, traditional upbringing. He didn’t want me to flash because I wanted to anyway, just with his permission – he wanted me to SUBMIT and do it because I really didn’t want to flash.

Tom had wanted me to be more aggressive in my flashing, but he would never have approved of Taylor’s dare, and I knew that. I have to admit that a part of me enjoyed the adventurousness and the challenge – the adrenalin rush of getting caught. I just didn’t like the actually getting caught part all that much, and Taylor’s game involved that real possibility.

The big difference was, instead of strangers I’d likely never see again, I had no way of knowing how this would affect my kids, and didn’t even want to imagine.

“Fine.” Taylor finally said that if I wouldn’t play the game, she’d simply show them the video and started to call Donny.

I shushed her, and in desperation agreed to the game without knowing the rules. Tom always told me the rules to any of his devious little games before I agreed – he insisted I know. I always wanted to play his games because I trusted him not to put me in harm’s way or take advantage of me – so I wouldn’t have needed to know his rules in advance.

He said if I didn’t know the risks and agreed to the game, then I wasn’t making an informed choice and that would take the fun out of the game for him. He wanted to ensure I knew what I agreed to do, so that when and if I lose, I couldn’t complain. I have never been a sore loser and seldom if ever complained, but I totally got used to the idea that the rules would always be fair and made clear to me before I agreed.

“So what are the rules?” I asked when Taylor stood there, smiling like she’d already won the game.

“All you have to do is serve lunch with your apron tied like this.” She tied my apron back in the back loosely – just enough that the crack of my ass would show.

“I suppose I have to make it through the entire lunch with no one noticing or else you show them the video?” I put my hands on my hips skeptically. I could and would still back out of this game.

“No, no, no, mother.” Taylor graciously told me that no matter what, she’d delete the video. “All you have to do is play the game. If anyone says anything, you can pretend you didn’t notice and tie it back up. If they don’t notice you finish serving lunch and after we finish eating you can tie it back. You win no matter what!”

Despite my better judgement, that seemed like a great deal all around, and Tom wouldn’t have to know about it. I could handle something on my own and just move on.

“No more questions about the butt-plug?” I asked her shrewdly, considering whether there was a catch or not that I’d missed.

“I have questions, but if you don’t want to answer, then I can always find out online.” She smiled and offered to shake my hand.

“A deal is a deal.” I felt a little guilty about her saying she’d go online to read up on something I’d done. I knew she was manipulating me into feeling that way, and she didn’t really intend to stick anything up her ass, but I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt at how she’d said it.

I snuck a glass of wine that I kept in the kitchen to calm my nerves, and prepared the lunch with the apron untied slightly in the back. I could barely notice the air hitting my bare bottom – but I was still feeling the tingles of adrenalin, knowing that I probably shouldn’t be playing this game.

I had already agreed – and a deal is a deal. It was too late for ‘buyer’s remorse’ on the dare. I would do it and show her I was not afraid, and that would be the end of this.

I called the kids for lunch, and one by one they strolled in. I expected them to notice right away, but no one said a word. I began to suspect this may be some kind of trick, and they all already knew and were just toying with me. I can become a little paranoid and anxious at times – the simple fact was no one saw or noticed.

Summer and Kimber joined us for the meal as well. I immediately suspected this was Taylor’s ace up her sleeve and they were all going to be in on whatever game she was playing with me. Taylor’s friends almost never ate with us. I think they had an aversion to sitting around the table with family and at their own homes they probably all ate separately.

Summer and Kimber looked innocent enough as they sat at the table but I had this impending feeling they were up to something. The way they dressed, talked and acted they always looked like they were up to something though so that isn’t surprising.

I flashed Taylor a suspicious look, but she shrugged innocently enough and talked to her friends as she normally did.

Kimber was a blonde girly-girl type that I think looks a lot like Miley Cyrus back before she became a total slut.

Kimber dressed in garish punk-rock fashions but not nearly as dark as my daughter. She chose whites and light blues and preferred Animé and Hello Kitty grunge fashions.

Summer was closer to my own daughter but not quite as dark. She had dark hair and liked to line her eyes with her thick eye shadow. She wore flannel shirts, black skinny jeans with a chained billfold, and Ugg boots. Summer’s nose is slightly upturned and although she wears her hair short she is often compared to another Disney star named Victoria Justice.

Both Kimber and Summer absolutely hate being compared to Disney stars as much as my own daughter hates being compared to Ariel Winter or the famous Taylor Swift.

The fact that the two of them were there didn’t really put me on guard – they had come over to our house on weekends many times. They would generally eat my food, without saying ‘thank you’, and then disperse to whatever it is they did all day.

Donny also had his friend Dalton over that day. They’d been playing Destiny on Xbox all day – Dalton was a pimply-faced kid a lot like my son. He was shy and awkward and only started barking orders and talking loudly when he was online in his video games.

I had my own ace up my sleeve, and that was why I was very confident and assured of myself. I would keep my back to the wall at all times. I could face the table and pivot slightly to get anything off the stove to make sure they all had plenty of food.

The kids talked about normal stuff – arguing over video games and such. I smiled at Taylor, and she seemed like a gracious loser about it. She smiled back at me as if impressed that I had won.

I’ve stopped playing Monopoly with the kids – in part because Taylor can be a very sore loser at board games. I fully expected her to play dirty, and she didn’t at all. I lightened up; my stomach, which had been on high alert and ready to generate butterflies at a moment’s notice, went on stand-down. I relaxed and decided to have another glass of wine.

I knew from before the first tittering giggle began that I had just fucked up. I hadn’t been tricked - it was my own stupidity. I’d turned and stood on my tippy-toes to reach for my special wine in the top cabinet.

As you can guess if you’ve ever stood that way, with your shoulders slightly apart and arms raised over your head, my apron not only hung open but my entire ass popped out. The laughter began like a light rain that continued into a tropical thunderstorm and felt like a category-three hurricane.

It started with a lot of “Jeez Louise!” and “Oh my gawd!” and continued to nightmare-level humiliation of “What’s that in your ass?” and total chaos and pandemonium as I lost control of the kitchen. I had already straightened up and fixed my apron, but they were still laughing – laughing AT me.

I had no words or anything I could say to explain myself.

I tried actually – I tried being rational and told them what Taylor had said – “It’s just a butt – it isn’t like you haven’t seen one before!” I was trying to calm them down and again quoted my daughter, “A butt is a butt is a butt – it’s just skin,” but I could see from their smiling and laughter that I was only adding fuel to their fire.

They began to chant the word “Butt!” and laugh at the fact I had said “Butt” on top of my utter and devastating humiliation.

Taylor wasn’t laughing – she was at first but she seemed almost to feel sorry for me. I implored her to make this stop. I wasn’t sure what she could do to make that happen.

“It’s my fault!” Taylor spoke up on my behalf.

Oh Thank God! I sighed a breath of relief as the kids laughter wasn’t all of my worry. I was worried what Tom would think. There was no keeping this a secret, now that all three of the other kids had seen my bare ass. They would no doubt tell him, and I had no real explanation at all for what I’d just done.

In fact, I instantly regretted all of my actions; but hindsight was 20/20. I was more interested in making the humiliation and embarrassment stop. The few times I’ve been caught in flashing games in public places I’d always felt a streak of adrenalin and a charge of excitement coupled with the abject humiliation of being seen naked – that usually involved goose bumps and raised tiny little hairs on the back of my neck.

I couldn’t even begin to describe to you how much more humiliating this was by comparison. I was anxious for Taylor to explain so that it could stop.

“Mom just did it because it was a dare.” Taylor actually defended me. Unfortunately, she spoke the truth, and that only made things worse because that sounded far worse than an accidental flap of my apron when she said it out loud. “She was trying to get this video I uploaded deleted from the cloud,” Taylor said. She held up her iPhone for me to see that she was deleting it as she explained the stakes of the game.

I was mortified – my kids heard why I’d agreed to this wretched little game, and now I wasn’t sure what they thought of me. I couldn’t even face them and their snickering laughs.

“What video?” came the cry from my kids. Kimber and Summer had clearly already seen it and were smiling at me.

“The one where your mom’s getting spanked by your dad? That’s fucking hot.” Kimber always sounded like a horny phone-sex operator talking very slowly and sensually. “I wish somebody would spank ME!”

The ensuing chaos that erupted continued for the next two hours until Tom got home from work. Taylor had deleted the video but in the process… now the other kids knew there WAS a video of something, and that was almost as bad. Their imaginations had made it even far more intense than it actually was.

I was now actually thankful Taylor hadn’t walked in one some of our more extreme sessions and that we’d just been starting out when she had.

My husband immediately ordered everyone’s friends to go home. Dalton thanked me before leaving and I wasn’t sure how to even respond to that. Tom glared at the boy and the kid left without another word.

“You’re thanking my wife for showing you her ass?” he grunted, as if he was about to lay him out.

“No, no sir.” Dalton’s squeaky teenage voice responded that he had only meant thanks for the lunch. Tom didn’t believe that, but he let the matter go after putting the fear of his wrath into the boy.

Tom was furious with everyone for what happened, and he wanted to get to the bottom of it all. I felt absolutely miserable and was going to confess everything to him, but he told me to ‘Shut my yap’.

I’ve never seen him talk to me like that in public – especially not in front of the kids. He could be vulgar and crude in the bedroom all he liked. I definitely WOULD have said something to him about his tone if I had even one moral leg to stand on.

As it stood – I just shut my mouth. Tom had sobered everyone up to the point that all the mayhem and hoopla was now at an end. Everyone felt a little embarrassed that they’d been laughing and yucking things up.

He made Taylor and I write a journal of the events leading up to today and keep it for him to read. He said that would prevent us from manipulating and creating a cover story for what had happened. The journal you’re reading is an excerpt from what we turned in.

He insisted we each write our journal in isolation and not be able to cover for each other. I knew that I was in deep trouble and was willing to accept any punishment he chose to mete out. I didn’t even want to think about it at the time. Tom set a time limit for us to get it done, but said that if it wasn’t complete there would be a reckoning.

He also knew I may just take ALL of the blame myself and spoke mostly for my benefit, “If the accounts do not match on ANY point – I will find out and know that you’re lying to me. I don’t want to be lied to. If you suspect, for even a second, that I won’t figure it out – you’re sadly mistaken. The easiest thing for you two girls to do is tell the truth. Do anything else at your severe peril.”

I noticed Taylor actually shut her mouth as well and didn’t talk back to her father.

I was quietly pleased for that – my daughter at least had the sense to know when she could get away with her sass and when she’d better just go along with it.

He told the others that they’d be called back into the living room for a family meeting to help verify what happened, and that everyone who had a part in any wrongdoing today would find out just how serious he was right now.

I swallowed hard and began to write the truth of what happened. I left nothing out by intention or accident, going over each word and the humiliating events of the last few days.