Reader’s Note: This is Joanne Swift’s journal, adapted for reading, detailing the events around October 9th (Sunday) 2016. The Swift family is sitting on the couch while Taylor ‘cools her jets’ in the corner, waiting for the remainder of her punishment.
I had been largely very quiet while Tom laid out all the details and rules. I was collecting them for him and helping, but I wasn’t comfortable making suggestions. I do have a nasty habit, though, of hearing a problem and offering a suggestion when I think I can be helpful without really thinking through the outcome.
“Then when someone comes over we prepare an explanation and ensure they understand before we let them stay,” I said.
“That’s a capital idea!” Tom kissed me on the neck and said that’s why he married me.
I was too flustered and flattered to take back my idea once it was out there, and hadn’t yet realized I would be the one to do ‘The Big Talk’ as it became known.
I wouldn’t have much time to prepare an outline of things to say, because my son Donny’s best friend (and some would say only friend) came to the front door while Taylor was cooling off in the corner after her last spanking. We were alerted by Sandor barking at the door long before he knocked.
“It’s showtime,” Tom smiled encouragingly.
“I don’t know what to say.” Tom was the talker. I don’t put a lot of stock in horoscopes, but Tom and I fit our astrology signs pretty well. He’s a Leo and a born leader and communicator. I’m a Libra – someone who’s more into balance and doesn’t like conflict.
“Just be explicit and introduce your daughter by her new name. You’ll anticipate their likely questions in case they don’t ask them, and answer any questions they have when you finish your big talk.” Tom made it sound so simple.
“Don’t you want to do it, Sir?” I pleaded with him not to put me on the spot.
“I do, and I feel very comfortable having that conversation,” Tom said, and I was very relieved that he was going to handle this as he had the explanation to our kids. “Fart Face, get the door, curtsy and lead them to the living room, then return to the corner to cool off,” he instructed.
Taylor started to walk over to the door and Tom stopped her. “If I give you an order, I want you to acknowledge you understand it by saying ‘Yes Sir’,” he told her.
“Yes Sir,” she said, and continued to the door.
“Thank you for handling this, Sir,” I whispered to Tom, adding that I’d been very nervous.
“No reason to be nervous,” Tom said with a confident smile, before telling me he wasn’t going to handle this. “You’re going to do the talking. I said I wanted to handle it, but I’m going to be working and won’t be home all the time. You’re going to be home most of the time and need to be the one to deliver the big talk. I’ll be here to back you up. Don’t worry if you get stuck. This will be good for you and helpful if the visitor sees you’re on board with it.” He told me not to worry. “It’s only Brandon, after all,” he smirked.
Brandon is a pimple-faced teenager who works at the local Best Buy. Donny met him on one of his first days here in Cherry Lawn when he was walking around Best Buy looking at video games, and the two hit it off. I was pleased he had a friend, even if he was just as socially awkward and shy as Donny.
My son could actually be pretty affable and had a great sense of humor. He had no problem bagging on his brother and sisters, but he usually clammed up when he was around other kids his own age.
“Hello, Sir, and welcome.” Taylor curtsied deeply and bent at the knee before inviting Brandon in.
“Wow, you weren’t kidding! I totally didn’t believe it.” Brandon smiled as he closed the door behind him. “She totally looks like Ariel Winter when she isn’t dressed in all that Goth stuff and has her hair down.”
My daughter HATED to be compared to Ariel Winter almost as much as she disliked being called out for her famous name. Ariel is an actress on the TV show “Modern Family” who will sometimes put shocking photos on Instagram and plays smart, sassy characters. I can’t imagine why Taylor wouldn’t find that flattering but surprisingly she thanked Brandon and didn’t rip his head off like she may have any other day for the comparison.
I was actually seeing some benefit to this unorthodox re-education already!
“In the future, you will wait for any guests and close the door for them,” Tom instructed Taylor, before telling everyone that, aside from people they’d already told about this, they were to say nothing. “Your mother and I will handle it with ‘the big talk’ when we receive visitors.”
Brandon was invited to sit on the couch, and Janie made room for him by sitting on a nearby chair.
I stood up and cleared my throat. I was already embarrassed, even though I had talked to this boy a hundred other times in the past. I was quite uncomfortable trying to think of where to even begin.
Tom helped me through the first time giving ‘the big talk’, but this conversation became the template for all the visitors we would have that day.
THE BIG TALK version 1.0
“The last time you saw me I was sashaying around the house with my apron flying open; do you remember that?”
Of course he remembered that – how stupid of me to ask it that way. Scratch that from all future versions of ‘the big talk’ I would have. I would just begin with a statement of what Taylor’s problem was, and the incident that made us realize we needed to address it, before explaining the logic of our solution.
I had a habit of saying this was Tom’s idea, but that made it sound like I was trying to distance myself from it and that I disagreed. Tom had me clarify that this was OUR idea, and provided a unified front from both of us in agreement that it was for the best, and long overdue.
“The reason we’re having this talk right now is that Tom and I lead a consensual, loving BDSM relationship. That’s a committed relationship based on domestic discipline where the man is the traditional head of the household and the woman is subservient. We have until recently kept this to ourselves, as it was strictly our own business.”
“My daughter recorded us engaged in a private activity involving bondage and showed it to her friends. She threatened to show it to the kids and others if I didn’t play a little game with her. She had me serve lunch with my apron hanging open, and if no one said anything about it, she would delete the video.”
I take responsibility for playing the game. That was a choice I made, and I shouldn’t have done it, but I was afraid of what she would do with the video. Tom pointed out that my concerns were warranted, because Taylor could be manipulative.
“In the past years, our daughter has been lazy, deceitful, cruel, selfish, proud, and took everything we’ve tried to do for her for granted. We’ve raised a bit of a monster, and for that we also apologize. We’re trying to correct that mistake, and what you see before you is our attempt.”
At this point, I would introduce her as ‘Fart Face’. “We took away her name. She never liked being called ‘Taylor Swift’ because of the singer she shares it with. I thought it was beautiful when we chose it, but she didn’t appreciate it. We ask that, while in our house, you refer to her by this name, Fart Face; but if it’s offensive or vulgar to you, then you can call her anything besides ‘Taylor’.”
Brandon at this point had a look of complete disbelief on his face.
“Right now, Fart Face is standing in the corner because she got aroused while she was being spanked. We don’t allow her to walk around us in a state of arousal, and her punishment won’t continue until she’s cooled down. Fart Face, are you still aroused?”
“Yes Ma’am,” Taylor admitted sheepishly.
“She’s being trained to do all the chores, speak respectfully, and must refer to all males as Sir and females as Ma’am. Will it make you feel uncomfortable if she calls you ‘Sir Brandon’?”
No one I gave this speech to on Sunday expressed the least bit of concern with that stipulation. Brandon nodded agreement and understanding.
“We physically punish her to reinforce her lessons. We never spanked her until recently, and we’ve reaped a shrewish daughter who enjoys hurting people’s feelings. She is stingy with her time, her attention, and her approval. We’re teaching her to be less stingy, and we’ve removed basic privileges like the right to privacy, and to come and go as she pleases. We have her in an apron with her bare butt available at all times because it’s one of the more sensitive parts of the body where we can apply corporal punishment. This may seem on the surface to be encouraging sexual behavior but by controlling how she is presented and how she acts around others we are simply redirecting very negative and manipulative behaviors and using a means that will get and KEEP her attention to address using the same tools she had for manipulation at her disposal using some karmic justice and tough love.”
Usually, at this point, they would seem a little surprised we let the kids see her re-education. The discipline and the lessons being done out in the open so I would touch upon that.
“Since she’s made it obvious to her brothers and sister, and there was no way to apply this discipline to her without it affecting them, we’ve sat down with them and had a mature discussion about what we are doing, like we are with you. We aren’t trying to punish them at the same time by forbidding their friends to come over. You’re welcome to come over just as you normally would, Brandon, as long as you understand that what you see here is done out of love. It’s a tough love – one that isn’t easy to apply, but is completely necessary. “
After that part of the big speech I would ask my daughter if she agreed with everything I had said and if she had anything else to tell these nice people.
“What can I say to that? I agree with my mother’s assessment of me. You’ve known me now for a few months and been over to our house before. I’ve never been nice to you or given you the time of day. I know it seems harsh, but this, I believe what they want for me is for my own good and so far I’ve been learning a lot. I don’t mind if you watch and I expect you are probably shocked by what you see but a Butt is a butt – everyone has one and mine isn’t any more special than anyone else’s”
Even though my daughter does have a cute ass – she was right about that. I stopped her before she could ramble further and gave her an affirmation of sorts to round out the presentation.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Fart Face, Ma’am,” Taylor said while standing in the corner with her hands behind her head.
“Do you mind that Brandon calls you that?” I’d heard Tom ask me affirmations for over 18 years, and yet I felt completely unprepared to ask these questions. I asked the same questions I did when Brandon came over in the same order Tom had earlier with the kids. That made it easier for me to be this bold–like a ritual.
“No Ma’am,” Taylor answered, and when I asked her why not, she responded, “That’s now my name, and I am a fart face, Ma’am. He’d be doing me a favor by not letting me return to my old name and getting away with my old ways.”
“Do you mind that Brandon can see you standing in the corner with your bare butt hanging out?” I asked. I felt a squirming feeling inside my own loins as I wrestled with the adrenalin-induced feeling of saying these really harsh things to her like a dominatrix. It was so out of character for me; and even though it was just my son’s goofy friend, it felt quite real and serious.
“No Ma’am.” Taylor waited for me to ask her why before continuing, “I’m spanked on the bare ass in the open as a lesson to my brothers and sister that my behavior is not acceptable, so that they learn from my mistakes and don’t want to repeat them. It’s also done out in the open so that no one suspects I’m being abused or treated unfairly. Now that my mistakes and shortcomings are being exposed, it’s far more humiliating than just my bare behind, Ma’am.”
I wasn’t sure if Tom wanted me to continue, but I was surprised at how effective the line of questions were at reinforcing what we were doing. They also served to remind the kids that this was absolutely necessary as they heard her answer me the same each time.
“Are you allowed on the couch?” I would ask that question a few different ways, but always about her getting on the furniture.
“No Ma’am, I’m not allowed on furniture any longer.” Taylor learned to answer the questions as they were being asked. I would sometimes make her wait while I delivered the obvious question of why we’d decided on a particular policy, just to test her self-discipline, before she continued, “I’m learning to respect the furniture and not get my ass sweat all over it by sitting bare-bottom on it. I’m also learning my place is beneath my betters, Ma’am.”
“Why are they, your betters?” was my follow-up to build off the last question.
“Anyone who isn’t rotten to the core, lazy, selfish, or cruel. Thank you for teaching me to respect and amuse my betters, Ma’am.”
“What’s your rank in this house?” I asked next. I was trying to establish that the kids had their place too.
“I’m the lowest person in the house, beneath Sir Sandor, Ma’am. I eat last and do all the chores for the others so that they can enjoy their day in exchange for putting up with watching me be disciplined. I’m thankful that you’re all willing to put up with me, Ma’am.”
“You should be.” I looked at Tom to see if he wanted me to ask anything more. He nodded that he did, but I didn’t know what he wanted me to ask. I hate having to make decisions like this, so I decided to cut right to the chase.
“Show me Cadmus,” I said.
There was a hesitation the first time I gave ‘the big speech’, but it became easier after that. I could tell that Taylor really didn’t want to do that.
The first time I let her do it from the corner, but after that I made her stand in the living room and show the newest guest.
She pulled her ass cheeks apart hard and displayed Cadmus.
“Why do you have Cadmus in your ass?” I asked her, indicating the black latex circle covering her asshole.
“To teach me what a pain in the ass I’ve been, and to prevent the pink of my asshole from showing because it looks obscene when it’s hanging open, Ma’am.”
I was impressed with the courage it must have taken my daughter to say this in front of anyone – much less one of her brother’s close friends.
“Are you allowed to take Cadmus out?” I asked.
“No Ma’am, not around guests or in the open. It would be vulgar to do so,” she answered, as her father had told her to. “Cadmus has to remain in while I’m wearing the apron around the house.”
“Why does Cadmus have a name?” I asked, as she held her ass open for them to see the black circle between her cheeks.
“I’m being taught to treat Cadmus like a person, and not an object to be used, Ma’am,” she answered.
“That’s right, like when you name an egg and walk around high school treating it like a baby,” I explained.
After ‘The Big Speech’ concluded they usually asked some questions. In this case, Brandon said something corny about how it was his pleasure to be here, and thanking my daughter. “I would never have imagined this in a million years,” he said. I suspected he had a huge crush on her since he’d met her, but had always been intimidated because she wouldn’t give him the time of day.
“You’re quite welcome, Sir, but the thanks should go to my parents. It’s their home and I’ve no say over whether you can be here or not,” Taylor answered, still in the corner.
“You don’t mind if I stay, though, right? I mean like it’s not creepy, is it?” Brandon asked. He was an average-looking kid, but his insecurities and awkwardness made me cringe, and I’m sure it was difficult for my daughter to answer him respectfully.
“I don’t mind, Sir. I just ask that you not take pictures or tell anyone else at school what you see here,” Taylor said.
“So you ARE embarrassed if anyone else at school you actually care about learns about your discipline. You just don’t care if a loser like my friend Brandon knows?” Donny asked his sister. “No offense, Brandon.”
“No offense taken,” Brandon said with an understanding grin. He and Donny were both not on with the popular kids, and they often joked about it with each other.
“Not at all, Sir. I’m sorry if I sounded demanding. I’m still learning my place. Master said that he would rather control what they understand about my role in the house with an introduction like this. I would just ask that you invite them over if they really want to know how this benefits me, Sir.” Taylor had chosen her words carefully, but I was worried that the boys may get carried away at school.
“Do NOT just go inviting the entire school over here,” Tom directed, addressing my concern before I could muster the courage to say anything about it. “If you’re going to invite someone over, you talk to your mother and I first and we’ll approve them,” Tom said.
“What about people who just stop by?” Janie asked curiously. The night before the Vulgus family had stopped by and we were completely unprepared.
“Let’s take that on a case-by-case basis,” Tom answered, but he said that unless there was good reason, they’d be invited in and provided ‘the big speech’. “If I were afraid of people finding out that I discipline my daughter, then that means I must be ashamed of it or think there’s something wrong with it,” Tom explained. “I’m not going to broadcast it and hang billboards up downtown advertising that I do it, but all punishment and discipline will be done in plain sight. I’ve absolutely nothing to be ashamed of, and neither do any of you,” Tom told them confidently.
“So you are her Master?” Brandon asked Tom. People tended to talk directly to Tom and ask questions of him, even though I had been the one giving the explanation. He just exuded that kind of alpha personality, like he was in charge.
His smile could brighten a room, and his scowl could empty it just as fast. It was one of the many reasons I had pledged my love to him and ultimately my submission.
“I am the Master of the house, yes,” Tom admitted, but told Brandon he could still refer to him as ‘Mr. Swift’. Tom explained that his daughter was learning respect. “She has a new name and she has to adjust to ours. We don’t hold anyone else to the same standard. Fart Face is learning respect for the first time, and she needs strict guidelines. If she fails to call you Sir outside of the house, then I want you to feel free to let me or my wife know, and we’ll address it,” Tom promised.
“You’ll spank her? I’d love to see that!” Brandon smirked.
“You’re in luck,” Tom explained, adding that he would be disciplining her as soon as her hormones cooled off. “You weren’t here when she said what she did wrong and accepted punishment, so it won’t hurt for her to repeat it.”
Tom made Taylor repeat the reasons for her punishment, included lying to the neighbor and taking her time eating, and she thanked him for disciplining her before he laid out another 10 swats. Tom got into the habit of asking if she was turned on after each round of 10 swats and making her stand in the corner.
“How are you sure she’s turned on and not just trying to delay the inevitable?” Brandon asked. He was a sharp kid and I had wondered that myself. It was sometimes nice to catch my breath between intense spankings. I could enter sub-space after Tom gave me an extended beating, but Taylor had never had more than 10 swats in a row. She may have been like a swimmer who was putting their pinky toe in the shallow end of the pool and afraid it may be too cold or too deep.
“That’s a fair point,” Tom said, adding that he wouldn’t be able to confirm her telling the truth and she was a natural little liar.
Taylor pulled her tits out from her apron and faced her father. “Is this proof enough, Sir?”
Tom looked at the fat, dark areola protruding straight up. I was a 36GG cup, and my nipples had been extended through training and pierced a long time ago, so my arousal would have only been evident if you felt the slick wet juices in between my pussy lips.
My daughter, on the other hand, with her pristine, perky C cup tits, could easily verify the goosebumps and hardness of her nipples with a flash of her tits.
Tom added 10 more swats that time for flashing her tits without permission. “You will, in the future, pull your apron down without touching your own tits when you’re asked if you’re aroused,” Tom instructed her.
“Will I always be punished for being aroused, Sir? Is there nothing I can do to avoid it?” she asked as she reported to the nearest corner in the living room to wait the requisite five minutes.
“If you’re feeling aroused…” Tom said that she could ask to show us and we’d only make her stand in the corner and not punish her. “That would be the fairest way to handle it. I don’t want you using it as an excuse to delay your work, and you can’t fake the hard nipples unless you use ice cubes. We’ll see them dripping with water if that’s the case.”
“Can we ask her if she’s aroused?” Donny asked his father brazenly.
“I don’t see why you need to know.” Tom didn’t want Donny to feel he was the Master of her and had the same authority as one of us.
“We can tell her to show us Cadmus.” Donny explained that it made sense to be able to do the same thing with her tits.
“You aren’t just asking her to show you her tits when you asked to see Cadmus; it’s to confirm she’s walking around with it instead of just being bare-ass. Fart Face walks with her cheeks closed tight – there’s no other way to be sure.” Tom explained that there was a difference, but even I wasn’t sure if that was still true. There was something incredibly humiliating about holding your ass cheeks open, and I think Tom knew that. He was still struggling with the framework of rules that worked just fine in the privacy of our bedroom.
“I’ll compromise, because I see your point,” Tom offered. “Your mom and I are equipped to know if she should be punished or not, but if we’re not around then Fart Face can ASK to show you her arousal voluntarily and report to the nearest corner for five minutes. I’ll expect you to tell me if that happens, and as long as I can trust you to do that, then that’ll be a big help,” Tom said.
“Can we send her back to the corner if her boobies are still sprouting girl-wood?” Scotty was grinning with excitement about that possibility of making his sister’s life even more difficult. He wasn’t being sadistic – my youngest son was just naturally opportunistic and always looked for ways to exploit the rules.
“When your sister returns from the corner then she should show you her state of arousal so you can confirm she has calmed down.” Tom was uncomfortable giving them more authority than they may be ready for. He saw that Janie was looking at him like a deer in the headlights. “You don’t HAVE to look at her boobs if that makes you uncomfortable.” Tom promised that we would catch her if she was walking around turned-on.
“Oh, I don’t mind looking at her boobs, I just don’t want to have to do the same thing,” Janie said.
Tom promised her that as long as she behaved and remained respectful, that wouldn’t be necessary. “You aren’t held to the same standard, and put under the same scrutiny, because you haven’t pushed me to the point where I have no other choice but to keep you under a microscope and manage your every little action. You give me a reason not to trust you, and end up walking around the house in just an apron because you’re being paddled all the time, well then we’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” Tom smiled at her.
Janie was happy with that answer and promised to be a good girl. She wasn’t a perfect angel, but her mischief was a lot easier to deal with than the kind of things Taylor was known to do.
“You hear that?” Scotty yelled at Taylor to “calm her tits,” and the other kids chuckled.
Taylor said nothing – it was clearly a joke, and she was the butt of it for a change.
“Fart Face…” Tom reminded her that if a guest or family member asks her a question, she was to respond in a calm, patient, and polite manner. “If I need to tell you again today, you’ll get 10 more swats.”
“Yes sir, I heard you,” Taylor answered her brother. I could hear a pout in her voice that sounded like her feelings were hurt.
“None of that either, Fart Face.” Tom insisted she smile when talking to her brother. “You smile and your voice will carry the smile. You frown and try to make him feel bad for asking you a question, and he’ll start to feel sorry for you. I don’t want everyone here feeling like jerks just because they enjoy the privileges you lost.”
Once Taylor made it through the remaining spankings she was assigned to me and we began doing the chores around the house. I normally waited until everyone was at school or work to clean the kid’s rooms for them. Tom was under the impression they did it themselves, but they’d always done such a poor job that I just followed behind to make sure it was picked up correctly and no food was left in the rooms.
One of the positives that had come out of this was that now I could just go into their rooms and start cleaning with Taylor. I tried to make her do it by herself while I supervised, but she was slow and not very thorough. I found it easier if I just helped out—and by ‘helped out’ I mean I did the majority of the cleaning.
We have a four bedroom house with two floors, but as a stay-at-home mom I had already cleaned the house from top to bottom throughout the week and taken care of many of the projects that need doing when no one’s home. Tom had planned for us to be doing chores all day; I was running out of chores and it was not even 11 A.M.
The novelty of watching Taylor swishing around the house had worn off within 10 minutes, and the kids had gravitated back to their rooms or to the Xbox to hang out.
Scotty’s best friend Lanny was the next one over. We repeated ‘the big speech’ almost exactly as it had been performed earlier, and he was even more accepting of our solution to our daughter’s attitude problem than Brandon. Lanny is a black kid who’s part French Creole, and he said that his grandmother had never hesitated to take a switch to any of them, and they were never half as disrespectful as Taylor had been.
“My name is Fart Face now, Sir,” Taylor reminded him.
“If my granny caught me calling a woman ‘fart face’ that would be a switch too,” he laughed.
“What’s a switch, Daddy?” Janie asked.
Tom explained that there were often birch sticks that were used to whip instead of a hand. “In my day, the hardest part was going outside and being made to cut one down. You knew if you came back with something that would easily break or was too small you’d be punished even harder,” he explained.
“Oh yeah, my granny did that too! And all the while you’re crying and sniffling while you cut it down because you’re thinking about what you’re gonna get.” Lanny chuckled, even though I could tell he took the act of being spanked quite seriously.
“Are you going to use a switch on Fart Face?” Janie asked with a curious expression.
“That isn’t a bad idea.” Tom said that his hand was getting a little tired. I knew that wasn’t true. He was a spanking god who could dish out corporal punishment like a well-oiled machine. He knew just how to smack where you sit and how to control his own strength when he needed to. He was also a master of tying knots and bondage equipment, but they didn’t need to know that.
“Why don’t you cut a few switches for your sister?” Tom told the boys that there was a perfect tree in the backyard for that. “It looked like the previous owner had cut a few switches themselves when I moved in. I have an eye for details and I noticed some branches had been cut that didn’t look like regular pruning. Whoever it was that the bank took this home from had used that tree for one of its most natural purposes,” he laughed.
Tom instructed me to bring Lucifer and the angel downstairs from our toy cabinet as well.
“You have toys upstairs that you haven’t told me about?” Janie seemed surprised.
I grinned at her naiveté about what kind of toys they were. I was surprised my husband even acknowledged we had a toy cabinet upstairs. He told her they weren’t “that” kind of toys, and that she’d see soon enough that these two toys were for correcting disrespectful daughters.
“That doesn’t sound like a toy to me!” Janie offered him a confused look.
“Some toys are just for fun like a Barbie…” Tom explained that other toys were educational. “These two toys are more on the educational side,” he chuckled.
“A Barbie is educational,” Janie promised she could learn to do make up, brush hair, and what girl parts are supposed to look like from them.
“Girl parts don’t look quite like Barbie, although your mother’s boobs kind of stick out like hers.” He winked at me and sent me upstairs to get the paddles. I was shocked he would speak so openly around her because he never had before, but he had just addressed her sister’s tits, and so it made sense he could talk about what they looked like to her.
“Will you make Taylor,” Janie asked, before correcting the name to Fart Face, “make her play Barbies with me today? She always said she didn’t have time, even if she had plenty of time!”
Tom said that he would do her one even better.
I didn’t hear what Tom promised Janie because I was walking up the stairs with Taylor to get the toys my husband and Master wanted to demonstrate downstairs. I was quite curious, and from the look on Taylor’s face I think she was actually a little worried.