CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Reader’s Note: This is Joanne Swift’s journal, adapted for reading, detailing the events around October 9^th Sunday 2016, after her husband questioned his daughter and son at the breakfast table.

“So who told you that you could walk your sister down the street in broad daylight dressed that way?” Tom asked Donny sternly. The question was clearly rhetorical.

I wanted to speak up, and I probably should have since I had let her and Donny go outside like that.

“It was my idea, Dad. I just wanted to make sure she walked the dog all the way to the end of the street the way Mom said and walked without slouching,” Donny answered. He saw nothing wrong with what he’d done, but was scared now of his father’s reaction.

“Did she?” Tom asked.

“Did she what?” Donny was confused. He’d expected his father to start stomping a mud hole in his ass, I suppose.

“Did she walk chin up, shoulders back, and go all the way to the end of the street?” Tom clarified his question.

“Oh yeah!” Donny said that the dog seemed surprised when it got to the midway point that they didn’t automatically turn around.

“Dogs are creatures of habit.” Tom explained that a dog doesn’t get bored with routine. “They thrive on it. They look forward to the same trip every day because they know what to expect. It comforts them. When you change its routine, the dog becomes uneasy. He tried to turn around at the halfway mark because you kids half-ass it when walking him. I’ll always find out if you’re lying to me because I observe little things like that.” Tom reinforced his honesty policy.

Taylor was about to say something, but Tom silenced her and told her to get into the attention position in front of him at the breakfast table. Taylor surprisingly put her hands behind her head and stood with legs slightly apart, despite Scotty and Janie snickering at her.

“What made you think you’re responsible and trustworthy enough to report on your sister’s behavior anyway?” Tom addressed my son.

“I didn’t really think about it.” Donny said that he just saw that it needed to be done and offered to do it.

“What would you have done if she’d been disrespectful or turned the dog around early?” Tom was skeptical of Donny taking charge, and with good reason. Three of the last fish or hamsters he’d had had died.

“I would have told you or Mom,” Donny offered.

“Then I don’t have a problem with you walking your sister, but remember the entire point of this was she was to walk the dog. If SHE has to be walked in order to do it, then we aren’t making a lot of progress,” Tom said. “I suppose she hasn’t really proven to be trustworthy and needs some constant vigilance; good job, Donny. Thank you, but remember that discipline is my job, and I didn’t want to impact you guys too much to deal with mistakes we made raising her to be a brat.” Tom seemed genuinely thankful, but reluctant to let Donny have any involvement in his sister’s discipline plan.

“Happy to help,” Donny offered with a goofy smile.

“I’m sure you are.” Tom considered Donny, and then looked at Taylor before asking if anyone had seen them outside.

“Oh yeah, the neighbor was jogging past!” Donny smirked.

Oh God! I was worried that Mort Goldman had seen them and what we did last night was going to come up. I was about to admit that it was my fault for engaging in a lie, and try to explain why things got so weird the night before, when Donny said laughingly that the neighbor thought it was a Halloween costume.

“How on earth did he get that idea?” Tom seemed perplexed and annoyed our neighbor had seen this.

“That may be my fault,” I admitted – but Donny talked over me and I didn’t get heard.

“Mr. Pewterschmidt asked if she was dressed that way for Halloween, and I made Taylor stop and talk to him politely,” Donny answered proudly. “He asked if she was supposed to be a French maid, and she said yes!”

Van Pewterschmidt lives on the other side of our house – now BOTH neighbors thought my daughter was going as something provocative for Halloween.

“That isn’t true, though, is it?” Tom asked my daughter if she understood what random strangers may think of her walking outside with her ass hanging out.

“No sir, it’s not true. But these days Kylie Jenner walks around in see-through shirts and microkinis and no one bats an eye. He just thought I was an attention-whore like her who was showing off my new costume. I mean it does look like a French maid’s outfit,” she said.

“First of all, who’s Kylie Jenner, and why should I care what she does? She isn’t my daughter,” Tom asked rhetorically.

Janie has a hard time with sarcasm, so she quickly explained that Kylie was the younger sister of Kim Kardashian and held up her iPhone to explain she plays her app, “Khloe and Kylie”, every day.

“Oh great. So the role-model for my daughters is a girl who wears see-through shirts and lies to the neighbors?” Tom asked with a disgusted look on his face. “It just means I have more work to do,” he said.

“You’re making me walk around the house with my butt hanging out, Sir. Isn’t that reinforcing the same thing the Kardashians do?” Taylor’s question was surprisingly intelligent and Tom’s face reflected a level of respect for it.

“First off, you are NOT Kylie Jenner,” Tom said.

“No, I’m Taylor Swift, Sir.” Taylor grinned for the first time at her famous first name.

“Wrong.” Tom told her she was ‘Fart Face’ and would be ‘Fart Face’ until she earned the name ‘Taylor Swift’ back. “You hate the name ‘Taylor Swift’ so much that you’re going to learn to appreciate it – anyone in this house who calls you ‘Taylor’ will be punished by me. You are all to call her ‘Fart Face’ from now on, at all times. That is no longer optional.” Tom made sure that was understood before continuing.

“Even at school?” Scotty asked, clearly showing he had no problem with it.

“I don’t think we need to involve the school in domestic matters that we can handle here,” Tom said, and the kids seemed actually disappointed.

“It’s just hard to get used to showing her respect and referring to her as Taylor at school and then thinking of her as ‘Fart Face’ at home,” Donny said, continuing his little brother’s line of reasoning.

“You never even talk to me at school, Sir,” Taylor pointed out.

“Yeah, but now that you have to be nice to me I totally will.” Donny stuck his tongue out at his sister and blew a raspberry. I was impressed with Taylor’s self-control not to blow one right back.

“Fair point, if you need to talk to your sister at school or outside of the house, you can use your best judgment; but if no one there has a problem with it, I’d prefer we take away her name. Do you have a problem losing your name, Fart Face?” Tom asked.

“No sir, I’ve always hated it anyway.” Taylor wasn’t lying at all – she has always rejected the name.

“Great, that’s one problem solved. The other was why would I make you show your ass around here when I’m trying to teach you not to be an attention-whore, as you called it?” Tom made sure that was his daughter’s question. “You know, when I was a kid, I got caught smoking, and my dad made me smoke an entire carton of cigarettes to teach me a lesson,” he said.

“And that lesson was how to get emphysema!” Scotty joked sarcastically.

“Gross! You smoked?” Janie scrunched her nose up.

“I may have smoked, but my father wouldn’t let me get up until I’d smoked an entire carton. That day I felt how disgusting it tasted and I appreciated the clean air between my lips. I no longer thought it was cool to taste like an ashtray. I thought I was like James Dean or the Fonz with a cigarette hanging out of my lips,” Tom said.

“Who’s James Dean?” Donny asked.

“Who’s the Fonz? Do you mean Fozzy Bear from the Muppets?” Scotty asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Tom explained that they were the Kylie Jenners of his day for guys, “The standard we all measured ourselves on. Now, if your sister was a total slut who loved wearing skimpy clothes, then I’d make her dress in a burka or a nun’s habit and learn to be a proper little lady,” he said.

“What’s a burka?” Donny asked.

“What’s a nun’s habit?” Janie asked. I had the impression my kids were enjoying asking stupid questions, but while Tom can be patient, he was no fool. He shrugged off their incessant questions that didn’t really matter.

“It doesn’t matter.” Tom explained that since Taylor’s role model was apparently Kylie Jenner, and yet she likes baggy clothes and skinny jeans, he was going to alter what clothes she was allowed to wear.

“Even to school?” Scotty asked.

“I’ve seen some of the outfits that the girls at your bus stop wear.” Tom said that this wasn’t the 1950s puritanical days of his youth. “I assure you, nothing that will get her kicked out of school, but she isn’t going to like it!”

“Well, why do you have her in the black apron anyway?” Donny asked.

“I didn’t pick it out.“ Tom said that I had, but asked why Donny was asking.

“With the clear one she had on yesterday you could tell if she has hard nipples, so you can send her to the corner to cool off, but in this thing you can’t,” Donny said, without the least bit of concern for bringing up such a perverted topic to his father.

The white apron wasn’t quite ‘clear’, but it was fairly sheer. I felt a little guilty, because if I’d never dressed her that way they wouldn’t be expecting it to continue.

“Why are YOU looking at your sister’s boobs anyway?” Tom asked him, to put him back in his place.

“You can’t help but notice them, and she and her friends used to make fun of me when I had a boner. This is really no different,” Donny offered in his defense.

“You were staring right at my friends and got a hard-on! Sir!” Taylor accused.

“You’re right.” Tom told me that from now on only to use the white aprons. Turning to Taylor, he said, “You can change after you finish serving breakfast.” Tom explained with a cheer from the others that he was “” and we had a long day in front of us.

Scotty, Janie, and Donny were elated.

Tom told Taylor that he would be going through her clothes later today and deciding what she can and cannot keep. “I don’t know how you could afford so many clothes anyway. I don’t recall giving your mother approval to spend the fortune it must have cost to buy all that first-class gear at Hot Topic.

“Hot Topic isn’t hard-core, Sir,” Taylor said after receiving permission to help me serve breakfast. “It’s mostly secondhand stuff from thrift stores,” she lied.

I could have taken the opportunity to correct her and say that I knew she’d been using my credit card to purchase clothes online. I’d been covering for years, but I thought now was not the time, and SOME of her clothes were in fact from a thrift store.

“Very practical,” Tom seemed impressed. “Keep your chin up and shoulders back while you serve.” Tom told me to show her how to stand and bend.

I demonstrated by gracefully walking around the room with my head up and my chest out.

“Every day I’ll inform your mom of what you’re allowed to wear, and you will wear that and only that,” Tom told her. “You are to obey your mother’s instructions as if they are my own.” Tom told her to try walking like I was.

Janie laughed out loud and put two cups under her pastel-colored shirt, stuck out her butt, and started wiggling and waddling around like a duck. “It’s simple, just walk like you don’t have any place to go and you have all day to get there.”

Everyone laughed – even me. I told her that wasn’t quite the point of how I was walking but that the point was well taken. “When I was your age, I had blossomed and was taller than all the boys in my school.” I described my awkward middle-school years as an ugly duckling. “I was not aware of how voluptuous I was or that men liked curves. I thought I was fat and beastly because I stood a head taller than any boy in my school. It took your father’s instruction and love for me to finally accept my body and learn to love walking like a woman,” I admitted truthfully. Tom had made me feel “womanly” and insisted I own my body and carry myself like I knew I was sexy. I had become so used to walking in that way that I was no longer self-conscious about wiggling my butt while I walked; and was only even aware of it when someone whistled or made note of it like just then.

“I don’t exactly have jugs and a butt like Mom, Sir,” Taylor chuckled.

“You don’t, Fart Face, but that hasn’t stopped you from strutting around before. Today I’ll be forgiving while you get the hang of things, but tomorrow I’m not going to hesitate to tan your ass,” he said while she set down eggs in front of him. “You’re going to get 30 right after breakfast and you change clothes, and then you can start on chores,” he said.

“Oh great, now I’m just going to be spanked even when I do nothing wrong, Sir?” Taylor was trying to stick out her chest as she walked around the room wiggling her butt left to right.

“You aren’t going to be punished for NOTHING.” Tom said that everything he did included a purpose. I don’t do things just for shucks and grins. “You lied to the neighbor about your outfit. You weren’t wearing it because you’re going trick or treating in it, are you?” Tom asked.

Taylor had to know that her Dad always had a reason for everything and did everything for a reason. It was one of his core values and

“Ooh, go trick or treating in it! I am going as Elsa from Frozen!” Janie cheered, knocking over her fork as she raised her arms gleefully to pretend to sing “Let it Go” from the Disney movie.

“I suppose I didn’t think there was any harm in it, Sir.” Taylor shrugged that it was easier and less shocking than the truth.

“You wouldn’t see the harm in lying and manipulating people because it’s second nature to you. Makeup to soften your features, perfumes to mask your natural scent, bras to push up and separate your tits; these are all the trappings you’ve grown up with. I bet this Kylie Jenner you adore looks like a ripe turd when she doesn’t have all of that on,” Tom said.

“Nuh-uh! Kylie’s beautiful!” Janie was zooming around the kitchen, oblivious to the fork she’d just dropped.

“Pick up that fork.” Tom stopped Janie before she could grab it and specified that “Fart Face should do it. Anytime anyone spills anything or drops anything – by default you take care of it,” he decreed going forward as a standing order.

“Yes Sir.” Taylor picked up the fork and tossed it in the sink. Janie probably would have just kept using it, and truth be told I thought Taylor was going to hand it back to her and expect her to use it instead of getting another one. I was actually happy to see a little progress.

“Put it back on the floor,” Tom insisted.

Taylor seemed confused, but Tom had told her he wasn’t talking twice and that when he gave her an instruction she was to execute it.

“Show her how to properly pick up the fork,” Tom looked directly at me and my heart skipped a beat.

I knew what Tom meant for me to do. There was a very specific way to pick up my toys in the playroom, and I was shocked he wanted me to do that around the kids.

I got down on my hands and knees. Tom always wanted me to face my ass TOWARDS him when I got on my knees, if possible. My palms were flat and my face was red – I couldn’t look at the kids who were already laughing. I stuck my butt up in the air and pressed my tits to the ground. I was wearing an apron so I was fully covered, but I felt completely naked and exposed as I bent over the fork and used my teeth to pick it up and stand.

I put my hands behind my head and stood in attention position while the others laughed.

“I actually just meant bend at the waist and never at the knee, but that would work too,” Tom chuckled.

I was totally mortified.

“Throw it back on the ground so she can practice,” Tom told me. I was so nervous and embarrassed I couldn’t speak. I pulled the fork out of my mouth and tossed it on the ground, letting it clang against the tile.

Taylor looked up at me with disbelief, and then at her father. Her brothers and Janie were containing their laughter but had great mighty smiles on their faces.

“Fine.” Taylor did exactly as I did, except she didn’t know she was supposed to face her butt towards the kitchen table, so she strategically provided herself maximum modesty as she got down on the floor and picked up the fork with her teeth before returning to attention position.

“Good girl.” Tom asked her if she had any problem executing that each and every time something dropped on the floor.

“Matrra I terrk ferrk urrt muh murth, Suh?” Taylor slurred her words trying to hold the fork between her teeth.

I could hold entire conversations with Tom’s cock in my mouth or while gagged, but that had taken years of practice. She sounded hilarious – and the kids couldn’t stop laughing after she spoke.

“Yes, spit it out,” Tom told her, adding that she should get Princess Janie a shiny, clean new fork from the drawer.

“That’s the first time I heard you say that,” I couldn’t believe I just made a double entendre about spitting or swallowing what was in your mouth in front of the kids. My son Donny got it – but he didn’t say anything. I was feeling intensely horny after having been on all fours, and wanted more than anything for my husband to plow the shit out of me.

-Clank-

This time Scotty’s fork fell on the ground and he smiled like a cat that just did something evil.

“No.” Tom told him that he wouldn’t abide intentionally messing up their rooms or creating work for Taylor. “You do that and you’ll be joining her. Now pick it up,” Tom told his son sternly.

Scotty, still smiling, stood up and dropped to the floor in a single move. He was thin, but unlike his brother very athletic. He got into a push-up position and lowered himself down on the fork to pick it up with his teeth before hopping back up and sitting in his chair.

“I want to try it!” Janie dropped her own spoon and suddenly Donny, Scotty, and Janie were trying to outdo each other picking up silverware with their teeth in creative ways. I suddenly didn’t feel quite so embarrassed anymore that they had seen me crawl like a dog, and smiled at my husband.

Tom let them fool around for another minute or so before regaining order and telling them to finish their breakfast.

“Are you still wearing Ignotus, Fart Face?” Tom sounded silly when he called her ‘Fart Face’. His voice was so serious and deep that it sounded comical coming from him. I much prefer when he calls me ‘whore’ or ‘slut’ or ‘cum-gobbler’ to the name ‘Fart Face’ – but then that wasn’t meant for me.

“Not quite, Sir.” Taylor was waiting in attention position and at his instruction turned around so that he could see her bare ass and verify it. “I have in Cadmus, because Ignotus kept falling out.” Taylor deceived her father the way I’d told her.

I instantly regretted having told her to say that once I heard her speak the words out loud to her father. A fresh new wave of guilt washed over me – but I really had thought I was saving frustration by keeping things simple. I think subconsciously I also didn’t know what can of worms would be open by telling Tom about Mr. Goldman’s visit last night and how Taylor had walked home from the Vulgus house.

“Your ass doesn’t hang open like a book,” Tom chuckled, and said that when asked if she’s wearing the plug she was to present her ass and pull apart her cheeks. “I’ve seen the bare pink hole, so it’s not like it’s a big deal to see the black rubber stopper,” he laughed.

Taylor pulled her cheeks wide apart and everyone had a very complete look, not only at her crack but at the pink parted pussy lips dripping between her legs as well. “Like this, Sir?” She was trying to shock her father, but he wouldn’t give her that satisfaction.

“Can you pull your cheeks apart wider?” Tom asked. He was calm and it didn’t sound perverted the way he asked – he seemed detached but at the same time like he was challenging her to impress him.

Taylor, to her credit, actually managed to get her ass-cheeks just a little further apart. She had no shame on her face as she exposed that very perfect lily-white rump of hers.

“Not much bruising,” Tom observed, looking for any from the previous night. He said he would see about that today, depending on her behavior.

“You took Cadmus without consulting me?” Tom asked me.

“I did; I’m sorry, Sir.” The ‘Sir’ came out quite naturally, and if anyone noticed they didn’t say anything about my submissive tone.

“That’s okay,” Tom dismissed it as trivial. “I would just be concerned it was too big,” he chuckled, informing his daughter she was to wear it at all times unless given permission.

“Yay, no more farting at the dinner table!” Janie cheered, and the others did as well.

“You guys knew it was me?” Taylor looked flushed with embarrassment for the first time since this all began.

“Yeah, we all knew you farted at the dinner table and blamed everyone else for it.” Donny explained that Scotty and Janie were usually proud of their farts and would announce it to the room. “You have a tell. Any time you’re about to fart you make a cute little smirk and wiggle your nose and raise your eyebrows. That’s why we call you ‘Fart Face’!” he said.

“I call her ‘Fart Face’ because she calls ME ‘fart face’,” Janie stated coldly.

“Why did you pretend to blame each other, Sir?” Taylor was trying to get her head around this new revelation. She’d been having her own little private joke for years, and now she was learning that everyone else had theirs.

“It was fun to see you make the face, quite honestly,” Donny said.

“Plus you have a tendency to bite people’s heads off when they accuse you of something,” Scotty said more gingerly.

“Well, she won’t anymore,” Tom promised, continuing that from now on Taylor would have to agree to hold no malice towards any of them if they tell on her. “That means no getting even, no yelling, no accusing them of something to try to shift the focus. You thank them for telling on you and getting you the correction you need. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Sir. May I close my butt-cheeks now, please?” Taylor was still holding her ass cheeks.

“No, you may not.” Tom told her that he was going to let her close them, but since she asked then he wasn’t going to do that. “You need to learn patience. I am in charge – I know what’s best for you. You do not. If I want your advice or suggestions, I’ll ask you for them. I know when you’ve had enough.”

“Does the butt plug hurt?” Donny asked if she thought she may have hemorrhoids.

“Not really, Sir.” Taylor said that it hurt initially wriggling it in, but once it was locked and loaded she barely noticed it.

“Would you notice if I flicked it?” Donny asked curiously.

“Gross!” Taylor protested, and reminded him she was his sister.

“What? I just want to see what it feels like,” Donny said.

“I don’t even know if I can tell you that you can, Sir,” Taylor said, saying that it was up to Dad.

“Donny, don’t be gross.” Tom said that he could have one quick flick, reluctantly.

Donny grew excited. He first started to wind up his arm like he was going to throw a soft ball pitch but, when his Dad prompted him to hurry up, he quickly cocked one finger behind his thumb and gave a satisfying thud to the black rubber seal stuck in her ass. “Feel that?”

“Kind of, Sir,” Taylor answered with a curious expression on her face, like she was surprised by the flick.

“Can I flick it too?” Scotty asked, before Janie made the same request.

“See what you started when you ask questions like this?” Tom begrudgingly let them line up and each have one flick.

Scotty tried to flick hard but failed.

“Ouch, trim your nails, Sir.” Taylor bemoaned the fact his finger scraped the inside of her butt cheek.

Janie tried to get her fingers to bend so that she could flick the plug, but ended up running up and pinching her sister’s butt and then running out of the room.

“Okay, now that we have that out of our system…” Tom said that the plug had a name. “If you’re to learn to respect men, then you must learn to take care of that plug like it’s a man. His name is Cadmus Peverell and you’ll be punished for referring to him as an “it”.

“That’s from Harry Potter?” Scotty was excited when he got the Deathly Hallows reference, and said he remembered when I was reading that book.

I was glad he didn’t connect the dots that the plug was originally intended for me.

“You’re also to learn that you’re a pain in everyone’s ass, and now you’re going to be trained using yours. Now that everyone has touched Cadmus and didn’t explode into fire, can we all move on to what’s next?” Tom asked.

Everyone promptly agreed.

This was all so new to me and, while exciting, it also felt quite taboo. I wondered if we were moving too quickly without thinking about the things we were introducing into our family. I had been wondering that since it all began but with every new rule and humiliation my concerns grew. The kids were laughing and having fun with a lot of it – and we hadn’t overly sexualized any of it so that helped me to accept that since they had already seen so much, that we weren’t telling them things they did not already know. We were simply focusing them so that they didn’t misunderstand what they saw and they channeled it into something positive. They had been learning lessons about addressing shortcomings, about discipline and a chain of command. They had been learning about respect and control.

I have never addressed the cummy socks or the porn on the boys’ computers. I’ve never addressed the pee that never ends up in the toilet bowl and always on the bathroom floor. I knew they were aware of naughty things, but I felt it wasn’t my place to have the “talk” about the birds and the bees.

With Taylor I never even had to explain how tampons worked – she just instinctively knew.

Tom, on the other hand, made his living by talking, and was very methodical about how he introduced topics and ensured understanding. He was much better equipped to address the issues head-on, and I felt confident he had a solid plan to address my daughter’s behavior that was specific to her catching us in the middle of a spanking session.

Tom had once said that a spanking was a one-handed round of applause in appreciation of a nice ass.

However, he also said it could be a tool of correction, and that the same hand that gave pleasure could take it away – depending on context. I knew he was taking it away, and yet Taylor seemed to be enjoying parts of this as well.

I was actually enjoying parts of this too, despite the fact that the reason we began this was to address my daughter’s insufferable brattiness – and I was intensely curious and enthusiastic about what might happen next. This was all becoming a surprising adventure.