CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Reader’s Note: This is Joanne Swift’s journal, adapted for reading, detailing the events of October 9^th (Sunday) 2016, around dinnertime for the Swift household.

Tom reminded Taylor that she’d forgotten to offer her new handlers something to drink when she was here, and that was one of the reasons she would receive punishment. The other, and more important reason, was because she used my credit card to buy shoes she had no business buying.

I did feel guilty for not noticing the charge – that was my fault. I should have been more vigilant with our money.

“You spent 500 dollars on ONE pair of shoes.” Tom asked if she thought she was going to get away with that just by eating out of the shoes.

“Oh no, Sir, I understand and accept I did wrong.” Taylor had seldomly smiled when she was dressed to the nines in dark blacks and purples, or if she did it was an evil smile. She was genuinely smiling at her father, and I finally noticed she had lovely white teeth.

“Fart Face…” Tom marched her into the kitchen by slapping her butt with the Angel crop, “I’m going to overlook the fact that you’re smiling because I know there’s a ton of hormones sending signals to your brain from all the physical stimulus you’re getting from that rope and Antioch’s fresh placement.”

“HOPE!” Taylor blurted out.

Donny looked around with a surprised expression for the blonde cheerleader he was sweet on named Hope Miller.

“HOPE stands for Humility, Obedience, Patience, and Enthusiasm, Master.” Taylor reminded her father that she was just being enthusiastic.

Tom smirked that that was true, and told her he’d see how enthusiastic she was after her tits have been in the wringer for a week or if she’d be dreading punishment then. He glanced at me knowingly.

I felt a little guilty returning my husband’s smile. I tended to put a very serious expression on my face while Tom put me through training sessions because I took them seriously and I wanted to show him that. I’d never really thought about playing up the enthusiastic bimbo who couldn’t wait for punishment – even though deep inside all I could think about was him ripping my apron off in the bedroom tonight.

“What should we make for dinner, sir?” I asked Tom.

“Do you have Chinese?” Tom asked.

Janie LOVED Asian noodles and the boys were excited as well when I told him yes, I did.

Tom asked for some chopsticks while I showed Taylor how to make dinner. “This is actually something I should have taught you much sooner,” I told her. I said that she would need to know how to cook when she eventually moved out.

I expected to hear something snarky about only ordering take-out, since they made it better than me in a Chinese restaurant, but instead Taylor nodded agreement.

I want to impress upon you that seeing my daughter take off all her clothing and ASK to be disciplined is equally as unlikely and surprising as it is to hear her actually agree with me when I tell her something she needs to learn to be an adult.

I don’t think either had ever happened as far as I knew, until this weekend.

“I hope I’m as good a cook as you one day, and you’ll eventually let me try and make dinner by myself for the family, Mistress?” she asked.

There was that odious word again: “Mistress”. I shivered uncomfortably and she picked up on it.

“Don’t worry, Mistress.” Taylor said she wasn’t trying to replace me. “I just want to prove to you that I can do a good job and learn,” she said.

I nodded in agreement and kept efficiently preparing the food. The kids could be quite demanding when they got hungry, and we’d spent a long time on her lessons today. Her wrists were still cuffed, so other than watching me and periodically carrying something to me with her mouth, there wasn’t a lot she could actually do.

Tom took two of the wooden chopsticks we’d bought at Sam’s Club in bulk. The kids preferred to eat with fork and spoon because chopsticks required more patience.

“Are you going to untie me so that I can learn to use chopsticks, Master?” Taylor asked enthusiastically.

“Quite the contrary,” Tom said. He had her stand in front of the kitchen table and fastened the pair of chopsticks to her nubby nipples, pressing down on top and bottom while the rope from the Shinju harness crushed the middle part of her tits. “I’m making you a bra.” Tom explained that most household items could be used to train a girl.

He made Taylor fetch her apron with her mouth; and then when she returned, draped it over her. He unclasped her wrists so she could help, but she spent most of her time with her nose in the corner waiting when Tom decided she should cool off.

Donny and Scotty talked about their sister’s change casually, but they were both quite excited about Hope and Gloria being on the level about going out with them on Halloween.

I listened to the family talk as I usually did while I made dinner, but I found my own nipples getting hard picturing Tom using those chopsticks on my nipples and clit to press down hard. I wasn’t a masochist who loved pain, but I could get deeply aroused by the intensity of sub-space once he got me there. The chopsticks were small distractions that felt like an appetizer before a main meal like a solid beating or whipping. They were delicious appetizers, but they weren’t filling or meant to be the main meal.

Taylor was helpful serving the family and bringing them drinks, and that allowed me to make up for lost time while I finished the meal as she set the table. Tom asked her if she was still turned-on from the ropes.

Taylor was hesitant to answer and smiling.

“It’s not a trick question,” Tom said, telling her he didn’t do that. “I do expect an honest and explicit answer when you’re asked a question by any of your betters.”

“Yes, Master, I’m wet and it’s driving me fucking bonkers,” Taylor admitted truthfully and quite casually.

“I still expect your response to be respectful.” Tom said he’d work on her speech protocol. “You were doing so well earlier, but your concentration is broken. Your mother and I are going to go through your closet after dinner and decide what you’ll be allowed to wear going forward, and after that we can work on some speech training,” Tom explained, while making her turn around to cuff her wrists and removing the apron.

“You can ask to be permitted to disrobe once you’re done handling food.” Tom gave her an example of speech training and then made her get down on the floor.

“How, Sir? I can’t crawl,” Taylor asked with a look of concern.

“No duh,” Scotty said. He told her that Tom had explained she’s to lay flat on her tits and rest on her nose when she needs to crawl without them.

“Scotty, I appreciate you reminding your sister, but as you can see her mother and I are here and we can do that.” Tom directed Taylor to lay nude on the tile floor, just as Scotty had described.

Scotty kept the smug look of triumph on his face for being right as he ate his udon soup.

Taylor was to wait to eat until we finished. Tom had me put some warm Chinese noodles in her shoe and set it close enough to her nose that she could smell it.

“I’d like you to start keeping any leftovers in a bin marked ‘Fart Face’ in red lipstick. You should wait 24 hours after the meal at least before you let her eat it. You can just mix it up together. I don’t want her taking pleasure in her food. I don’t mind her smelling how delicious it is and knowing WE enjoy it, but hers should simply be nutrition,” Tom said.

“Sort of like a pig trough,” Scotty suggested, citing the example of how the farmer throws out his refuse and table scraps into one big container that all the pigs eat out of.

“I suppose so, although the farmer doesn’t usually spit in his trough,” Tom picked up the shoe and made sure Taylor was watching before he spit a little into the noodles and set it back down.

The kids laughed and Tom explained that he wasn’t being cruel. “I’m helping Fart Face with this. She won’t starve, and she’ll still receive enough to remain healthy. The food won’t be so old it has bacteria, but it doesn’t have to taste great, either. She eats last and whatever we don’t eat. Since this food is fresh and delicious, I’m helping get her ready by swallowing a little spit. It’s completely harmless,” Tom told them.

I know Tom believes very strongly that a regular diet of cum does wonders to making a girl feel submissive, because he introduced to me that and made it a part of my diet. Tom is very direct about his expectations so I knew he would mention it if he thought it was going to be part of the training.

We really had no viable donors who could ‘donate’ without things seeming very sexual – but it had been such a huge part of my initial submission to Tom when we first started our relationship that it almost seemed strange not to at least mention that it would be part of a healthy BDSM relationship between a couple.

I know it totally makes me sound like a horny cum-gobbler – but Tom had included it in every meal and made me drink it until I learned to love the taste – to crave the taste of what is essentially his DNA – his essence. I also know it turned him on to know I would swallow his cum and be thankful for the opportunity!

It felt like the quintessential example of power exchange to me.

I have a small carton of almond milk in the back of the fridge that’s mostly almond milk, but any cum he doesn’t have me eat after sex I drip into something and transfer to this carton where I refrigerate it.

I drink a glass of it every day – usually right in front of Tom. I poured myself a healthy glass right after he said that so that he knew I picked up on his point. I winked at him and smiled as I swallowed the cold milk with a little bit of his cum floating on the top.

I know this sounds positively absurd at first, or at least makes me sound like a total freak, but keep in mind that I breast-fed all of my kids when they were little, and milking was a huge part of my early discipline routine. Tom would make me lap up my own milk in front of him, and he enjoyed it as well. He usually came in my breast milk, and I grew to really crave the taste.

This is actually a little secret privilege I reward myself with now – that I’ve accepted that I love the taste of cum.

I didn’t always think cum was fantastic. My first husband used to want me to swallow his cum, and I positively hated it and would spit it out immediately. I would clean myself right after sex, even though I was on the pill. I had just been taught it was disgusting and something only sluts did.

“Waste not - want not,” was Tom’s philosophy in many things – most especially as it related to cum. It didn’t matter if it was all over my belly, face or the floor – he would expect me to lap it up and I did so like a good wife. I’ve mentioned we were open to other sexual partners when we first got together and Tom would have been deeply disappointed if I had ever not swallowed a man’s cum after I sucked him off.

I was never part of an actual orgy or gang-bang but we saw several couples – especially when we lived in Georgia.

I’m thankful Tom had a much more enlightened view about orgasms and sexuality and made consuming sperm a part of my training. He would make wear his cum under my clothes on my skin, let it dry in my hair, and I would have the smell of him and sex on me all day as a constant reminder that I was his submissive slut and I belonged to him – that I would do anything for him.

There was something so submissive about swallowing hot, warm cum as it shoots down your throat – something so womanly. I eventually learned to embrace it and enjoy the taste, and now I craved it. I know it sounds like I am a nympho, and maybe I am, but I love cum and that’s the truth.

I know no one in the family LIKES almond milk, so it’s perfectly safe in the back of the fridge from the chance anyone else will accidentally pour a glass for themselves. They know it’s “Mom’s milk” and will just not eat cereal if we don’t have regular milk in the house.

Tom has had me lick the salty sweat off his belly, spit in my mouth and on his boots and had me lick it off. I covet his body and anything that comes out of it. He even spit right in my dog bowl, but it’s been years since he made me eat out of one.

“Yummy! Dad-spit!” Donny teased Taylor.

“Can we spit in her food?” I would have expected Donny or Scotty to ask something gross like that, but it was Janie who asked that question.

“Wow.” Tom was surprised as well and asked her to tell him why.

“I think it would be fun to see if she would do it,” Janie answered honestly.

Scotty helped his sister come up with a more acceptable answer based on Tom’s previous logic “You said it wasn’t actually harmful, and we’d be helping her by making it taste less delish!” Scotty had his mouth full of noodles, so he swallowed before adding a less than Tom-friendly answer. “Besides, if she’s a family pet we need to LEARN to feed her and this would be a step.”

“We can learn by doing!” Donny joined in with a grin.

Tom chuckled and said that he preferred Janie’s answer because “…at least it’s honest.”

I couldn’t see if Taylor was rolling her eyes and making a face because she was looking straight down with her nose pressed to the tile along with her bound tits. Her ass was sticking straight up and her legs were wide apart to expose her pussy and ass.

“Let’s ask Fart Face?” Scotty asked.

“That we CAN do.” Tom smacked her butt with Angel to “wake her up” and then told her, “Your brothers and sister want to know if you mind if they give you the AUTHENTIC Chinese restaurant bitch experience.” Tom paused to set up his joke “If you’re a bitch to the waitress they’ll all spit in your soup.”

“And serve you cat!” Scotty chimed in with his own joke.

“Gross? They don’t really serve cat, do they?” Janie asked.

Taylor waited for the kids to stop arguing and joking before answering. “If you say they can, Master, then that would be fine.” Taylor didn’t sound enthusiastic – in fact, I detected she was regretting being trained already.

“That isn’t what I asked,” Tom popped her right on the back of Antoich’s black base with the white leather crop. “I know it would be fine if I think it’ll help you. I’m the one who spit in your food in the first place. I want to know your thoughts, and you need to take the opportunity to tell me when I ask, or I won’t ask in the future.” Tom was quite serious now.

“It won’t kill me to have spit in my food, and it’s probably happened almost everywhere we eat because if I do go out with the family to eat, I’ll usually send back whatever they get me for not being quite right – even if it’s exactly what I ordered. If I say yes, is it just this one time to satisfy their curiosity, or any time I eat, Master?” she sounded curiously hesitant. “I know you and Mom can spit in my food anytime I eat,” she said.

I could sense a conflict in my daughter. She wanted to repent for her sins, but she also seemed to want to cling to some dignity and comfort and deny her brothers and sister the opportunity to get one over on her. She seemed to have no problem with Tom or I doing it to her.

“It’s EVERY time you eat.” Tom made a new rule that she would have spit with every home-cooked meal. “Your Mistress probably doesn’t want to be seen spitting in your food, so she’ll probably ask one of your brothers or Janie to do it. Do you have a problem with it? Tell me now.”

“I won’t know until they do, Master,” Taylor said. I almost thought she was going to cry if her brothers got to spit in her food at every meal.

The shoe was being passed around the table for them to spit on her noodles. Tom then threw the shoe down and told her that she could start eating. “You have three minutes to finish and then anything you don’t will be added to the pile tomorrow for breakfast,” he said.

Taylor complied and began to awkwardly eat on all fours by sucking noodles up one at a time from the shoe. It was difficult to watch because it was very suggestive as she worked her tongue around a soft noodle and then sucked it into her mouth.

There was no way three minutes was long enough as she ate one noodle at a time.

She was the center of attention while she ate, and the others chuckled at the difficulty she was having. Her face was becoming slick with broth that splashed on her chin and cheeks as she struggled to eat like a dog in front of us.

I made a mental note to give her some tips on how to do this in the future and to tell her to just accept the fact her face would be messy by the time she finished.

That’s when the doorbell rang and Sandor started to bark.

I felt my asshole pucker at the thought of someone visiting right now.

“You know what you must do,” Tom said. He told Taylor to stand up and answer the door.

“How do I?” Taylor asked while she struggled to get to get up, using only her feet while maintaining her balance. It was more difficult than it looks to do when you don’t have the use of your hands.

Once she walked to the door I asked Tom in a whisper if he felt we were being too hard on Taylor.

Tom said there would be no whispering at the table. I felt bad for disappointing him. I didn’t want to involve the kids in the conversation but he explained he had made them a part of what was happening in the family and they had a stake in it. “I do not think we’re being TOO hard on Taylor. So far she’s holding up quite well, and she ASKED for this,” Tom said.

“Yes, but we don’t even know who’s at the door,” I told him, and I was clearly nervous.

“It doesn’t matter who’s at the door,” Tom explained. He knew it wouldn’t be Jason or Freddy Krueger or any other boogey man, and if she was wearing clothes and he was looking for a victim he’d take her for sure. “The mean bitch was always the first girl to get it in those slasher films,” he laughed. “

“What if it’s the paperboy?!” Scotty joked with a wry grin.

“It’s 2016, dummy,” Donny told his brother, adding that no one buys the paper any longer.

“Well, you know what I mean.” Scotty gave another example, “Jehovah’s Witnesses!”

“Then they’ll witness a naked girl at the door.” Tom stated quite bluntly that this was our house and we would answer the door in whatever we chose to answer it in. He even theorized that a sign on the door, warning people the way they do when they have dogs, may not be completely out of the question.

“What would it say?” Scotty laughed about the idea of a house-pet warning sign. Instead of the drawing of a bulldog, it would have a picture of Taylor’s face with the collar around her neck.

“Yeah.” Tom joked back with his son that it would say at the bottom that her bark is worse than her bite.

I was quite surprised at the casual way everyone else seemed to take the idea of answering the door completely nude. I was the only one who’d ever actually done it besides Taylor, and I knew how terrifyingly embarrassing it is, the fear one has of walking up to a door and not knowing who may be on the other side and what their reaction is going to be. It even can be difficult when you know very well it’s the pizza guy and you’re expected to stand there and hold a conversation with him while receiving the pizza.

I got up from the table to go check on Taylor.

“Where are you going?” Tom asked me. He knew exactly where I was going, but he clearly didn’t want me to go into the living room to intercede in case Taylor was panicking.

“I just wanted to make sure Fart Face answered the door politely.” It was not entirely untrue, but I was really just worried about what was happening in the living room.

“Sit down.” Tom wasn’t asking, and he continued, “You can’t hover over her the entire time. She’s going to be at school tomorrow without your guidance and needs to learn to handle these things. We’re right here if anything goes wrong. Let her follow the process and come get us. You’ll need to revise your ‘big speech’ and be prepared in case it’s someone new.” Tom was confident that everything would go fine.

I sat down and waited. It seemed like Taylor was taking a really long time.

Janie, Donny, and Scotty had finished their food and were getting antsy to see who it was as well. I started to clear the table and Tom told me that would be Taylor’s job as well. “You just sit back and relax,” Tom told me.

How could I relax? My eldest daughter had gone to answer the door wearing a dog collar and butt-plug with her tits tied in Shinju.

What if it was the police or an administrator at school that came to check on her?

The door opened and Taylor walked in leading Dave and Betty Vulgus, our neighbors.

“You really should put some clothes on that girl,” Dave was clearly joking. He was in his fifties and had the look of someone who enjoyed a good dirty joke and ogling pretty young girls.

His wife, on the other hand, wore the dour expression of someone who was less than amused. “Dave…” Betty spoke with a German accent. “They know you’re an old dirty pervert and don’t really believe that.”

I was horrified – they must think we are absolutely the worst parents for trussing up Taylor that way. Her tits had begun to fill with blood and were turning purplish-red as they jutted out full and firm in the rope bindings.

“Can I get either of you a drink?” Taylor curtsied slightly at the knee. Her hands were bound behind her back but she conveyed with her body language the appropriate gesture.

“You seem like you have your hands full,” Dave said with a chuckle. “I enjoy a good whiskey, and right now I could do with a good shot.” Dave asked if she had ever been to the Hofbrauhaus in Vegas.

“No sir, I haven’t.” Taylor seemed slightly amused by the question because it seemingly came out of the blue.

“It’s a German restaurant Dave likes because the serving waitresses paddle you every time you order a shot right there in the bar,” Betty said with a trace of derision for her husband’s perverted interests. She clearly tolerated them, but may not have shared them.

“What’s not to love?” Dave described pretty pigtailed German waitresses in Lederhosen who make you put your hands up on the bar and bend over for a paddling while drinking Jägermeister. “I only ask because looking at the rosy glow on your ass, it looks like you’ve been there.” He was clearly joking. “All kidding aside, as much as I would love a drink, we can’t stay. I just came by to beg your daughter to babysit for us. We’re in a bind! Not as big of a bind as your daughter, but…” Dave clearly loved double entendré and puns and used them whenever he could.

Betty rolled her eyes at her husband and said, “We see that you’re clearly disciplining your daughter. I hope it’s not for the other night at our house. She was actually a relative angel, and our grandson hasn’t stopped talking about the girl who wore the white apron,” she said.

Tom told Dave that he’d explained before he came over that he was disciplining Taylor, “and she probably wouldn’t be available to babysit.”

“That’s the thing, Tom.” Dave pointed out my husband had used the word “probably” and he had absolutely no other alternatives.

My husband’s pet peeve is clarity in communication, and one reason he doesn’t like ambiguity in communication is for this very reason. “I’m sorry I wasn’t more clear, Dave, but clearly some things have come up with Fart Face’s attitude in the last few hours that have required extreme measures,” he said.

Dave looked our daughter up and down as she stood naked with her legs apart and hands cuffed behind her back in the kitchen. “I can definitely see that, Tom. I’m no prude, and I think what you do in your own home is your business. She warned us at the front door that if we came in she’d be naked, and I said it would be fine,” he said.

“You said it would be awesome,” Betty corrected him with a stern glare.

“I may have phrased it like that,” Dave chuckled, before explaining that he had an obligation he really couldn’t miss. “I can pay sixty dollars. I’ll make sure she’s home by midnight. You’d be doing me a real solid. Believe me when I tell you that if I had ANY other option I would take it, but you’d be surprised about some of the girls in this neighborhood.”

Tom agreed that teenagers these days were kind of a handful.

“Well, you clearly have this one in hand, and I know if she screws up you’ll be on top of that,” Dave winked at my husband with a grin.

“How about you bring your grandson over tonight and I’ll watch him?” I volunteered.

The Vulgus family was clearly very liberal-minded and hadn’t flipped out over seeing our daughter naked.

“You know, Marvin would probably love that, but actually it’s to babysit all of my grandkids while we rehearse and prepare for my daughter’s wedding,” Dave said more seriously. “So she would actually be in the hotel room at the convention center where we’re holding the ceremony this weekend,” he said.

“Dave, it’s just not possible,” Tom shook his head no. “You see that my daughter’s naked and tied up, right?” Tom shook his head.

“Yeah, yeah. I remember the speech your wife gave. Taylor’s a brat and you’re teaching her to behave herself and appreciate her privileges. It looks like it’s actually working, because she didn’t automatically roll her eyes when she met me and seems nice for a change,” Dave smiled.

“Thank you, Sir,” Taylor smiled.

“I’ll owe you big time, Tom.” Dave pleaded that this was his only daughter’s wedding and he wanted to learn to dance with her.

“My husband dances like a Slovakian goat on its way to the slaughter,” Betty observed.

“Please can I go, Sir? I’ll donate the money to Janie and my brothers,” Taylor promised.

At the word “money”, suddenly Janie, Donny and Scotty were very enthusiastic about Tom doing the neighborly thing and letting her go.

“You don’t mind doing this for no money?” Tom asked her.

“I’ve clearly showed no responsibility for handling money.” Taylor didn’t need to use the example of the 500-dollar pair of tennis shoes that now served as a very expensive reminder of that wasteful spending and noodle bowl. “I would rather they benefit from my work. It seems a small price to pay for their having to put up with me. I won’t be given the freedom to go places where I could spend money anyway for a while, Sir.” Taylor made the case that she was fine letting them have her earnings.

I could never remember a time when my daughter showed even an ounce of altruistic spirit. She’d even chided me for my liberal leanings to donate time and money to charities and the homeless. I remember her telling me that if they want money, they should just get it from their parents.

“You aren’t just saying this so that I’ll let you out of punishment while you’re gone?” Tom asked her.

“No sir, I wouldn’t expect to be out of punishment. I’ll go like this if you want,” Taylor said, and I believed she would have walked out of the house completely naked.

“Ha-ha, as much as Marvin may like that, I don’t know that I can get you into the hotel wearing just rope and a dog collar,” Dave chuckled.

“No, you can’t leave naked.” Tom pointed out that the rope bondage around her tits had to be closely monitored. He stood up and began untying her chest and letting her swollen tits have a break.

“She’s under restriction,” Tom explained to Dave, and said that he expected her to text him every few hours.

“I could go with her, Dad, and make sure she texts and that she doesn’t get up to any mischief,” Donny volunteered.

“I thought tonight was raid night in Destiny?” Tom said.

“Sixty bucks,” Donny reminded him that split three ways that’s 20 dollars to him. “I’ve got a date coming up on Halloween, and who knows – maybe a video game.”

“True, and you do need to learn to start driving,” Tom rubbed his chin as he reassessed his son’s maturity.

“Why doesn’t Donny just go and babysit himself?” I suggested.

“Babysit?” Donny stuck out his tongue as if he tasted something awful. “How old are they?”

“Well, there’s a three-year-old and a...” Betty began to list off the ages of her grandkids.

“Gross? Changing diapers? I’ll babysit the BABYSITTER. But I won’t actually babysit,” Donny said.

“Look…” Dave promised he would pay more for both of them if he could, but the sixty bucks was pretty much all he could afford on his military pension.

Tom has a soft spot for veterans and has volunteered down at the VA when he has time because he himself was in the Air force for many years. I think he was also touched that Dave wanted to learn to dance with his daughter for his wedding, but if he did, he wouldn’t admit it.

“However…” Dave said he understood Taylor was under restriction, and he’d let Tom set pretty much any rules he needed while they were gone. “We just need to go now.”

Tom un-cuffed Taylor and had her bend over in the punishment position. He sent me upstairs to get her an apron to wear like the kind I had on that was modest and would cover her entire body. I didn’t watch him administer her spankings, but Dave and Betty did, along with the rest of the family.

I hurried and when I returned Tom was wrapping up with the paddling. Taylor’s eyes were red, but unlike her expensive dark eyeliner the magic marker wasn’t running with her tears.

Taylor’s long dark hair was a bit of a mess, and she was still covered in food particles as she rubbed her sore, red ass.

Dave was having that shot with my husband, smiling. “Brings back memories of Halloween in Slovakia?” he asked his wife.

“You’re thinking of Easter.” Betty described a Slovakian custom where every Easter the boys were allowed to dump water on the girls and whip them with a specially decorated willow switch called a Korvac. “It’s said that a woman who’s whipped daily will be beautiful, healthy, and have a warm glow all year long.”

“So you’ll let me whip you daily?” Dave smiled as he asked his wife’s permission.

“Not on your life,” Betty said dourly, with what was approaching her lemony sense of humor. “That’s all bullshit,” she laughed. “We were allowed to get even, though, the next day. I was allowed to ambush my brothers and throw water all over them when they were least expecting it!”

“All Right!” Janie cheered the idea of throwing water all over her brothers for Easter.

“They still got to spank her first, though,” Scotty reminded her.

“So?” Janie didn’t see that as much of a sacrifice if she got one over on her older brothers.

I think seeing Taylor whipped and actually smiling afterwards had made it seem far less threatening.

I had my apprehension about Tom administering discipline in the living room, but from Janie’s casual acceptance of spanking now I realized it had removed the stigma that would have happened if we’d taken Taylor into a room and they heard her cries and saw her coming out rubbing her ass.

I was sure Janie would change her mind the moment she got spanked herself, if that ever happened, because it wasn’t all pleasure. Tom definitely made it hurt, but from Taylor’s facial expression I could see the endorphins had kicked in and Taylor had a pleased, satisfied, but compliant look on her face.

“Okay, the rules are, when you’re riding in the Vulgus’ car, you’re not to speak unless spoken to, but you MUST speak in a respectful tone.” Tom looked at Donny to make sure he understood that rule.

“You’re to keep your hands on your thighs the entire time where they can be seen, and you’re not to eat until you get home. You have two bathroom breaks and you must ask permission to use them,” Tom said.

“Yeah!” Donny agreed with Tom’s rules.

“I’ll text you when you can shit or piss, and Donny will time you,” Tom said as he looked at Taylor. “He’ll text me if he has any questions,” Tom said for the benefit of both of them, to establish that Donny wasn’t to just make up rules on the fly.

“I understand, Master, and I’ll be respectful,” Taylor promised.

“You’re representing not only yourself when you go out into the world, but a reflection on this household and family,” Tom reminded her as he walked her to the door.

Dave shook Tom’s hand one last time, and said he’d also text if he had any problems.

“Thanks,” Tom said. He looked unsure that Taylor was ready to go out like this.

“Can I spank her if she does anything I don’t like?” Dave was clearly joking.

“I wish you would,” Tom suggested.

I was kind of shocked Tom offered that to the neighbor, and so was Donny. I’m sure Donny thought he’d do more than just observe and report on his sister.

“Come on, you three.” Betty reminded everyone that they had some place to be by 7pm. “I’ll do the spanking if you do anything wrong,” the tall, blonde European woman said as she walked out of the house with a determined gait.

“Does that include me?” Dave asked enthusiastically.

“Mostly includes you! Now come on.” Betty urged her husband to stop dallying at our house and take this wedding seriously.