CHAPTER THIRTY

Reader’s Note: These are EXCERPTS from Joanne Swift’s Journal October 9^th (Sunday) after Tom and Joanne Swift go to bed and all through Monday October 10^th. They have been edited down to the relevant parts of her journal.

That night Tom was spent and he couldn’t cum a second time, but he was able to get it up.

He stood over me and lowered the tip of his cock into my mouth while I squatted in our bedroom naked, and then fed me his dick slowly, inch-by-inch down my throat. I slurped it and cringed when I realized the sound I made was just like Taylor eating Chinese noodles.

When Tom realized he wouldn’t cum, he led me to bed on all fours and snuggled me close while we reflected on the events planned for tomorrow.

He told me that in the morning he would inspect her again and go through the morning affirmation rituals. “You don’t think I was too soft on her, do you?” he whispered in the darkness of our room.

“No, you have a heart, Master.” I assured my husband that he was right on the money and that I was proud of him.

“I was proud of YOU.” Tom told me how wonderful it is that what one of our daughter’s wants is to be just like me.

“I’m not so great.” I’m terrible at taking compliments, but I really wasn’t sure I even believed Taylor thought she wanted to be like me. A part of me definitely wanted to believe that I’d set a great example.

“You set a good example for a daughter on what a woman should be, and that’s something that’s great,” Tom said. He told me he wouldn’t let me live it down.

“Speaking of setting a good example…” I was probably changing the subject because I was uncomfortable with such high praise. “Tomorrow I was thinking that I would get a bowl of warm water, a towel, and bring Taylor up here after school and show her how to shave the proper way,” I told Tom.

“I told her you would be,” Tom said as he rubbed his body against me sleepily.

“Do you think I should undress and show her on myself, Master?” I asked, because I was thinking that it would be easier to show by example. “If she sees how I do it, then she may be less afraid of nicking herself and see that I’m willing to do what I teach her to do,” I told him.

“You willing to perform the demonstration downstairs in the living room?” Tom’s smile in his voice told me he knew my answer was absolutely not.

“I don’t think Donny and Scotty would like to see me do THAT, but I was thinking I’d bring Janie and let her watch because this grooming is something she may need to learn.”

“We said nothing happens in private. It’s all down out in the open. So if you want to demonstrate on you then I have no problem with it, but you do it downstairs.” Tom sounded serious and not joking.

“You meanie.” I stuck my tongue out playfully at him and kissed him.

“You’re the one who suggested after-care,” Tom reminded me as he kissed me playfully.

I felt embarrassed and said that I was sorry. “I really didn’t think about how difficult that may be to actually provide, Master,” I told him more seriously.

“I actually thought about it.” Tom said that it was an important part of the psychology. “I don’t want her to think I’m the villain or the enemy, and it’s an important part of putting the love in ‘tough love’. It fills an important emotional aspect of this training.” Tom asked me if I thought that it would be too much.

“Are you prepared to do it in the living room?” I asked.

Tom didn’t answer, and I assumed he was thinking about his answer.

A minute later he began snoring.

October 10^th, 2016 - MONDAY MORNING

Tom has the ‘Game of Thrones’ theme play on his cell phone to wake us up in the morning. It took him two times before he woke up.

He had left me unbound and ungagged the night before. It wasn’t the first time he’d done that, but when I woke up that way I felt strangely incomplete. After over 15 years of marriage I had grown so used to being bound at night that, rather than feel irate, I actually felt like I’d been untended and like I’d missed out on something. It’s difficult to explain, but it just felt like I shouldn’t be permitted to sleep that way, in part because I’m a natural rule-follower.

“Good morning, Master.” I wiped the sleep out of my eyes as I yawned.

“Good morning, Juggs.” Tom flicked my nipples and slapped my bare pussy. He’d taken the sheets off of me and left me laying on the bed, completely exposed. I got out of bed and into the inspection pose without being told – grabbing my ass-cheeks, bending over and opening my mouth.

“I’m sorry, baby.” Tom kissed me on the mouth and started getting dressed and trying to shave with his electric razor at the same time. “I’m running behind for work. I won’t do this again. I’ll have to get up earlier, but I completely misjudged how much time things are going to take in the morning to get Taylor to the bus. I need you to get dressed and help me get her up and ready,” Tom said.

I was perturbed, but I tried not to reflect that on my face. Tom had almost never cancelled our morning rituals of inspections, affirmations, and spankings before he gave me instructions for the day. He even expected them when I was sick with the flu, so it was a bit of a surprise to me.

He did travel a lot for work, but usually he at least texted me, and I sent him photos over instant messenger as proof I’d shaved and performed the basic duties. Tom told me he’d expect photos of me during the day and he would text over instructions, but reminded me she was still new at this and needed the reinforcement right now.

He was right, of course, but I found myself increasingly jealous of my daughter receiving attention at my expense. I felt guilty for feeling jealous, but Tom was, as always, right about this. I just missed his special attention.

I didn’t want to admit it to myself – especially since in her mind, apparently, I was such a great lady.

Tom didn’t even check to see if Bud was seated and didn’t wait for me to get dressed before he ran to her room.

Taylor was sleeping in the nude on top of her bed when we walked into her room. Tom poured a glass of water over her head and she yelped and came out punching. “What the fuck? It’s like 5 fucking A.M.,” she mumbled groggily.

“Whoa there, Mike Tyson.” Tom laughed at the harmless fist that flew right past his face. “It’s time to get up, Fart Face, and clean your cunt, wash your ass, get inspected, make breakfast for the family and eat, then you can get dressed and get to school.”

Tom is a morning person and he was already energized.

Taylor was neither a morning person, afternoon person, nor evening person. She stumbled out of bed and at first touched herself, almost as if she were trying to see if she were dreaming that she’d been naked.

We walked her to the bathroom where he made her beg to remove the plug. She mumbled and he slapped her tits until she said something approaching a proper request to have it removed.

He told her she had five minutes to shit, piss, brush her teeth, and shower, and she needed to pick wisely. “Use your time not like a lazy bitch who prioritizes looks. You better clean your ass and be presentable, or I’ll find a way to make your day even less fun than it already is,” Tom promised his daughter.

Taylor seemed willing to hurry and brushed her teeth quickly and quite thoroughly but appeared to be waiting for us to leave the bathroom before she would sit down on the toilet. I knew Tom had no interest in giving her space or privacy and this would be a hard lesson for Taylor to accept.

Tom reminded her she had no privacy with a slap on the ass to get her attention. “Sit on the bowl and drop whatever is in your ass and cunt quickly. You have six squares of toilet paper. Your clock has already started ticking and you piddling around waiting for us to leave isn’t going to change that.”

Taylor had a hurt look on her face as she dropped to the bowl and sat down naked. Tom insisted she pop open her mouth and then pinched her tongue and checked her teeth. Once satisfied with that part of the inspection, he jammed the plug in her mouth. She made a face at the taste but didn’t spit it out. He told her that in the future, as there is more time, she’d receive a more formal inspection in the living room.

She was lucky she got to sit on the toilet, and I wanted to tell her that, but obviously she wasn’t ready for that lesson or Tom would have insisted she used a bucket or squat over the toilet like he did me.

“Watch how you arch those brows and glare, Cunt,” Tom reminded her as he stood over her.

She farted and started to mumble a protest that we should leave.

Tom said that she’d better just go ahead and push because he was going to watch whether she liked it or not.

He pulled her legs apart as she sat on the toilet so that we could watch her stream of hot piss dribble out of her pussy. “Gross,” Taylor said around the plug in her mouth, as she scrunched her cute little nose and pissed right in front of us.

Tom reached between her legs and touched her clit. “Your pissy little pussy can dump your lemonade a lot faster than that, girl. You’re going to learn to do Kegels!” Tom told me that was another lesson I needed to teach her.

He joked by whispering in my ear that it was up to me if I would lead by example or just tell her how to do it. “Maybe you can draw her a diagram,” he chuckled.

Tom told her to stand up when she reached the two-minute mark and to bend over. He stuck a finger in her ass and fished around and, once satisfied, he pulled Antioch out and made her clean his finger before he seated it again in her ass.

She let out a panicked yelp when he inserted it. He made her wriggle and smacked her butt to get it in.

“This is another thing you could teach better by example,” he joked.

I was getting worried he was very serious. I could just imagine the shocked and horrified faces of my son and youngest daughter as I opened my legs to demonstrate how I could move my pussy lips and close them tight for three second intervals for a full 10 minutes while holding myself apart.

Tom made her shower with cold water, and with her hair still dripping wet brought her downstairs to drip-dry.

He told us to get breakfast ready and that Janie would be down soon to, “…do Fart Face’s makeup.”

Janie’s in middle school and wouldn’t have to get up normally for at least another hour, but if she was going to draw on her sister then she would need to start now.

I ended up making the usual breakfast for the kids that I normally do because, when Janie finally stopped cussing out her father for waking her up early, she took her sweet time drawing red stars in marker on Taylor’s nipples and painting her face up like a trashy whore.

Tom performed her affirmation in the kitchen in front of Donny, Scotty, and Janie while he did the full inspection on her. That included sticking his finger in her pussy and ass, and Taylor’s nipples shot out straight like tiny dicks. No one said anything about it – but they definitely didn’t miss it.

He made her kiss the kitchen tile. “Show your appreciation to this house by kissing the kitchen tile. Nose and lips touching the kitchen tile, tits touching the tile, ass up in the air facing the kitchen table, legs apart and hands on ass-cheeks to give us all a good view of your most interesting features,” Tom ordered.

The boys liked it when she begrudgingly dropped to the tile floor and complied.

“Look at that little clit winking at us.” Tom admired her pussy and used a marker to write “STUPID CUNT” on her pussy lips in a semi-circle. He had told her he would be writing a new word on her every day, and this one would remind her how much she has yet to learn.

“Are you a stupid cunt?” Tom asked.

“Yes, Master, I think so,” she answered.

“You don’t even know if you’re stupid? That makes you ignorant,” Tom laughed. “You’re going to school to learn. You aren’t there to socialize or fraternize or show off or be a big fish in a little pond or look down on people. Do you think you can behave with your friends, or are we going to have to do homeschool?” Tom asked.

These didn’t seem like normal affirmation questions that he would ask me, but more customized to her. I was growing more envious because I hadn’t had my time with my husband, and to get it I would be requiring him to get up even earlier than he already did. He worked a job that often required long hours and travel, and I’d feel guilty if I made him get up early. At the same time I felt guilty if I took these important rituals from Taylor who so clearly needed them.

“No, Sir, I appreciate the trust you’re placing in me to go to school under supervision. I’ll do my best today to learn something,” Taylor answered him.

“You’ll be expected to keep up your grades and punished severely if not,” Tom said, adding that academics were as important as the physical and emotional aspects of this training. “You can get on your knees and thank your sister for doing your makeup today and apologize for making her get up so early to do that for you.” Tom dismissed her from the affirmation after only a few questions. We had very limited time and I think he was hesitant to get into some of the more explicit soul-searching questions that are usually part of the affirmation in front of the others.

“What about thanking us?” Scotty asked, and Donny nodded along.

“What did you two do except get up and do the same things you always do?” Tom asked. He wasn’t being mean, but he was asking a good question.

“What do you WANT us to do?” Scotty basically volunteered to help with anything Taylor-related.

Taylor went to her knees and clasped her hands in front of her to beg forgiveness from Janie and thank her for doing her makeup. I didn’t get to listen to the exchange because Tom sent me to get the outfit he had picked out for her.

When I returned to the kitchen she was standing with her hands behind her head in her high heels and looking very much like a grown woman. I couldn’t believe how mature my daughter seemed, despite having bright red stars drawn on her tits and the garish makeup of a total whore. Her hair was flat and straight for a change as well because she hadn’t been allowed to spend 10 minutes curling or blowing it dry.

“Your wardrobe for today.” Tom said that the outfits were taken from clothes in her closet. “You must have intended to wear these things SOMEtime.”

Tom held up a pink bandeau bralette. It was a seamless wrap-around that provided absolutely no support for her tits and was marginally see-through. He threw it on the ground at Taylor’s feet. “This was called a ‘tube top’ back in my day,” he said as he threw a tiny black skirt on the floor.

Taylor started to put on the skirt first and Tom stopped her. He had the white leather angel strap in his hand and popped her on the leg. “Tell her what order to put clothes on or take them off,” Tom told me.

“You always remove the bottoms first when you are undressing and then the top. You want to be bottomless before anything else. When getting dressed you put on everything else before the bottoms. The idea is to leave your ass and cunt on display as long as possible,” I explained before reminding her that she doesn’t put them on in the house anyway.

“Gosh mom, that’s a good idea,” Scotty said with a pleasant smile. “How do you know all this kind of stuff?” he asked.

It made me cringe to be asked the question, but I answered that I was the mistress of the house and it was my job to know these things, and that answer seemed to suffice. There may come a time when they’d figure out that I had firsthand experience with this, and want to tease me like they did Taylor for having done it, but I’d cross that bridge when I came to it.

Tom made Taylor assume the punishment position, standing up bent over again, to be punished for daring to try to dress in the kitchen. She offered a stuttering defense that it was still early and she didn’t remember the rule.

Tom was unsympathetic and said she could keep running her mouth and miss her own breakfast, or acknowledge what she did wrong, apologize, and accept punishment.

“Yes, Master, I’m sorry. I ask to be punished so that I won’t forget I’m not permitted to wear clothes in the house at any time without special permission. My stupid pride made me think when you handed me the clothes and told me to put them on you meant right now.” Taylor was passive-aggressively pointing out her defense of her actions.

Tom put a stop to that and gave her an order to go fetch Lucifer. “I see that you need a hefty reminder!” He hurried her to the den where Lucifer is kept.

The boys finished breakfast and there wouldn’t be enough time for Taylor to clean off the table and do all the chores AND get punished, so I took care of things as I always did.

Taylor returned with the wooden Spencer-style paddle in her mouth and knelt at her father’s chair at the kitchen table to offer it to him. He looked up from his cell phone, took the paddle, set it on the table slowly, and then told her to return to punishment position.

“Will you presume to get dressed without EXPLICIT permission from one of us to wear clothes INSIDE this house again?” he said once he stood up and planted a solid swat to her ass.

“ONE, MASTER!” Taylor’s back arched as she thrust her tits forward and looked up towards the ceiling, but held the position bent at the waist. “I will try to remember! As long as I know there are consequences to my actions; thank you for that!”

“Do you think we LIKE…” Tom emphasized the word as he brought down another swat on her already pink butt. “…looking at your disgusting naked ass parading around here in the morning when we could be checking our phones?”

“TWO, MASTER!! THANK YOU!” Taylor counted, and said, “No, I think you and Mistress do not!”

Tom planted a third swat directly on her ass and said he was asking about the entire family.

“THREE, MASTER!! THANK YOU!” Taylor was hesitant to answer, but blurted out, “I think Donny and Scotty like seeing me naked, and showing me off to their friends, and Janie thinks it’s hilarious, Sir!”

Janie chuckled that it was true – she did think it was funny and thought of Taylor as a living Barbie doll now, in some ways.

It was also an uncomfortable truth that the boys had adjusted more easily than we could have hoped, in part because they liked seeing naked tits, even if they were hanging from their own sister’s slightly freckled chest.

“Is that true, Scotty? Do you like looking at your sister’s pink, swollen cunt?” Tom slapped Taylor right on the pussy with his bare hand and it jiggled.

“I mean,” Scotty answered with uncomfortable reluctance to come right out and say it, “her pussy looks like a ripe strawberry. How can I not look?”

“I’m sorry, Sir Scotty, but I have a cunt, not a pussy, and was that four, Master? Or did that slap not count?” Taylor asked while holding herself in the punishment position.

“Your brother can call the pink gash between your legs anything he wants.” Tom swatted her pussy hard again, pressing against the bare flesh. “That was five, counting two pussy spanks. You think your cunt looks like a ripe strawberry?” he asked her with another swat to her pussy lips.

“I haven’t looked at it from the angle he has, but I’d imagine it probably does remind him of a strawberry. That was six, thank you, Master!” Taylor wasn’t grinding the way she had when he used Lucifer on her ass now.

“You don’t call your cunt an IT, you call it a CUNT.” Tom brought down Lucifer hard between the crack of her ass and her pussy lips from behind, causing Taylor to jerk and her tits to shake.

“Mistress Joanne, will you please fetch the toothpaste from the bathroom?” Tom asked me politely. I shuddered in revulsion. It was one thing for Taylor to call me Mistress, but now my husband was openly referring me to as a Mistress and not his slave? He usually called me “Love” around the house in front of the kids, but he called me slut, slave, or Juggs – due to the size of my tits – when we were alone.

I went to get the toothpaste, and when I returned Tom was spanking Taylor repeatedly while she rapidly typed on her phone with both hands slightly bent over. It seemed he’d told her to write down the school rules to reinforce them in her own mind before giving them to her handlers, Kimber and Summer, to read.

However, Taylor pointed out that no one reads paper any more at her school, and so Tom let her use her phone to type the rules out in a text message. Taylor’s thumbs were flying as she laid out her text with her rules for the day while she received spanking after spanking.

Tom thanked me for the toothpaste when I brought it to him.

“I already brushed my teeth, Master, and you checked them earlier,” she reminded Tom.

“I know what I did. You don’t have to ever remind me of the things I’ve done. You need to tell me the things you’ve done, and focus on your own actions.” Tom instructed her to stay exactly as she was. He dabbed out a wad of white toothpaste and then began rubbing it all up and down Taylor’s ass crack and pussy. “This will be applied every morning until I see some improvement, and then we’ll only apply it as needed.” Tom said that her strawberry needed some glaze.

I knew what would happen, but the other kids seemed perplexed.

“In a minute your sister will start to dance,” Tom explained, and almost on cue Taylor stopped typing and started to dance and shake uncomfortably. Tom told me to walk her out to the backyard so I could cuff her wrists after she got dressed, and then take her to the mailbox in the front yard.

“What about her breakfast, Sir?” I pointed out Taylor had no time to eat.

Tom looked at his cell phone and said there was no time. He worked in a position that was all about scheduling and timing, and he was a master at estimating how long things would take to get the maximum efficiency out of them. He took a piece of barely eaten toast from the table and spit on it. He passed the toast around to Donny, Scotty, and Janie who spit on it, and then dunked it in orange juice before handing it back to me for Taylor’s consumption.

You should know that Taylor typically refused to eat breakfast with the family, and if she ate anything it was a glass of OJ and toast. I don’t want you to think we were starving her or denying her basic nutrition. Girls at her age often obsess about their weight, but I think for Taylor she just wanted to distance herself because we traditionally ate as a family, and she wanted to be the black sheep who was off to the side, doing her own thing. She was also usually running behind because she got up late and was lazy, so she had no time for breakfast, either.

I held the toast up for Taylor to eat while she finished the text of the rules so she could give back the phone to her father. He corrected some of her grammar and sent it to the girls while I poured the warm orange juice into Taylor’s open mouth.

She was full-on dancing like she had ants in her pants now – except she obviously wasn’t wearing any pants! I would need a funnel to keep the OJ from spilling all down her face and tits in the future – although the yellowish juice did look strangely hot cascading off her tits and chin.

The boys and Janie thought this was the funniest thing they’d seen, and Donny even commented that he wanted to put it on YouTube.

Tom reminded them, “No cellphone videos! That’s part of what got your sister in trouble!”

“I’m sure someone could take a video at school,” Donny pointed out. He loved to play devil’s advocate, and Tom hated when anyone did that to him.

My husband said that was outside of his control. “I try to control what’s IN my control, and in this house there are no videos; and if I catch YOU two numb-nuts breaking those rules outside of this house, then I will deal with it.” Tom said that Taylor may find it breezy today as he stuck her clothes in her mouth and patted her on the head. “You did well for your first day. Don’t even think about wiping off that toothpaste. I’ll know if you did when you get home.” And with that he ran to the garage to leave for work.

“Come on, then,” I instructed my daughter, and she mumbled something as she held her skirt and the tiny top in her mouth.

I was nervous I would get a call from the school today about how skimpy this outfit was. I had seen girls at her schools that dressed in extremely revealing skirts and tight leggings, but I knew that if this school had any standards at all this outfit was going to probably break them.

I had actually seen one girl who wore long thigh-high stripper-boots and torn-up jean shorts that left almost nothing to the imagination, including exposing the bottom of her butt cheeks.

I had definitely seen girls in short miniskirts. Even the cheerleader’s skirts seemed super short, even though they wore spanks underneath. I was sure it was a great time to be a boy in High School.

The bottoms Tom chose for Taylor were what was called a “micro-miniskirt”, and there’s about six inches of material hanging down from the waist, with nothing underneath except the crack of my daughter’s ass. It would have been scandalous back in the 1980s to wear something like this to school, and I was doubtful she could pull it off.

If she hopped or the breeze would blow, in this skirt her pussy and ass would be visible. I knew the idea was to make her vulnerable, but I didn’t want her to get suspended. I gave her some pointers about wearing clothes like this in public when she was getting dressed in the backyard.

The bandeau was only slightly see-through but, with the red magic marker all over her nipples, there was no mistaking the stars on her chest.

I assumed if, or when, she got sent home from school we would cross that bridge with her and Tom wouldn’t punish her since he’d sent her to school this way. I hoped the worst thing that might happen was a warning or a short suspension, and then we would try something a little more modest.

Even though I wasn’t the one who had to go out dressed like this – I was sympathetically feeling how humiliating it may be and imagining having to go to school and be told what a bad mother I was for letting my daughter come to school dressed like a slut.

I offered no protest on this decision either and remained enthusiastically supportive of my husband’s decision.

The little black skirt, even pulled all the way down, revealed about a half-inch of the bottom of her ass crack.

“It’s fine, Ma’am.” Taylor didn’t seem too concerned about my tips on how to bend over and at least reduce her exposure while being true to the spirit of her father’s rules.

“Fine.” I produced a pair of wadded-up panties from the pocket of my apron and told her to open up. I told Taylor we were sending her to school with a pair of panties. “Your father told me to gag you with a pair of your own panties. You can take them out when you get on the bus, and you’ll put them back in your mouth when you’re walking home from the bus.”

“What shuldthI do wiff them whileth I am th’at schoolth?” she mumbled into the gag. She was so naïve about how to talk with a gag. I could have held an entire conversation with two dicks in my mouth AND those panties.

“You didn’t want my advice before, and now you do?” I raised my eyebrows, impatiently waiting for an answer.

“I am sorryfffth, Mitthressth, I am nervuthh. Please tellth me,” Taylor asked.

“Your father would tell you to ball them up and shove the panties into your pussy. If anyone asks if you’re wearing panties, then you can technically say yes.” I gave her an alternative, saying, “You could also just fold them up and keep them neatly in your books.”

“Thankthth You, Mistretthhh. Can I ask a favor?” she mumbled. She continued with the request when I nodded yes, and asked me nicely never to tell her friends that she cried last night.

I thought that was a strange request, and of all the things to be embarrassed about, that one seemed like the least likely, but I agreed. “You need to learn to be honest in all things, though.” I told her if she wanted to be like me, then that was the first step.

We waited at the mailbox for her friends. They were late, but showed up to get her and walk her to the bus stop. Taylor’s hands were clasped behind her back, and she was still bouncing from the toothpaste rubdown Tom had given her on her lady-parts.

Summer was wearing white furry boots, a black skirt, not too much longer than the one Taylor had on, and a pink shirt that read “Ask me if I care”, with white suspenders and a beret.

Kimber had on a white shirt and a plaid mini-skirt with white saddle shoes like a Catholic schoolgirl would wear – a very naughty one. She wore her blonde hair in pigtails and looked like a very sexy Brittany Spears in the “Hit me baby one more time” video.

“Is that your Halloween costume?” I asked innocently.

“What? It’s Halloween soon?” Kimber asked obliviously, and seemed strangely offended I would think a full-on schoolgirl outfit was a costume.

I’d seen some other kids walking to school in what appeared to be Halloween costumes. Apparently the school allowed kids to come dressed in themed costumes on different days to show school spirit, so I just assumed this was a costume, but knowing Kimber I should have realized it wasn’t.

“Did you read her text with the rules we went over yesterday?” I asked, knowing they had to start walking if they wanted to make the bus on time.

“TL;DR.” Summer rolled her eyes at me.

“Oh, Sweetness, when you roll those eyes like that, I assume you’re looking into your mind for an adequate response to my questions. And judging by the stupid look on your face, you’re coming up short,” I imagined myself saying to the bratty little girl.

“What does T.L.D.R. mean?” is what I actually asked in response. It was obviously some kind of chat-speak. The girls had a habit of using the abbreviations ROFL and LOL in actual verbal conversation.

“It means too long, didn’t read!” Kimber sounded so catty as she talked down to me. I was having second thoughts about trusting my daughter to these brainless little bitches. I had known some stupid bimbos in my time that were shallow and completely self-centered – hell, I had been one of them until Tom – but these girls really knew how to work my last nerve.

“Oh, okay, well, if you have any questions then just ask or send a text or whatever you do,” I waved them off to the bus. They giggled at Taylor’s wrist cuffs and took her arm-in-arm down our street and around the corner to the bus stop.

Taylor went to school with absolutely no school supplies, other than a 500 dollar gym shoe full of yesterday’s food I packed her, but that was pretty normal for her. I assumed she had whatever she needed in her locker and would get it between classes.

October 10^th, 2016 - MONDAY AFTERNOON

All the kids made it to school and I had completed my morning rituals and chores.

[LONG DETAILED LIST OF CHORES AND PERSONAL GROOMING RITUALS REMOVED]

Tom finally texted me from work, and I confirmed I had turned Taylor over to the mercies of the two she-banshees, Summer and Kimber.

He sent back a LOL emoticon and provided my personal instructions for the day. They were the typical ones, involving getting naked and riding up and down on my dildo while I fold clothes; or spending an hour in front of the mirror with a latex dildo attached to it and my eyes open, deep-throating the entire length to train my blowjob reflex. Tom texted an apology for this morning.

I AM SORRY ABOUT NOT HAVING TIME TO INSPECT YOU AND GIVE YOU AFFIRMATIONS. WILL YOU BE OKAY?

Did he think I was that fragile? I texted back that I’d be okay, and that I understood we needed to give Taylor the full experience and that I missed him.

THAT IS THE OTHER THING I WANTED TO MENTION. THERE IS A PROBLEM WITH THE VENDOR AND A POTENTIAL SECURITY INTRUSION AT ONE OF OUR DATA CENTERS IN ATLANTA. THE BOSS WANTS TO GO DOWN WITH ME AND INSPECT THE FACILITY AND THE LOGS IN PERSON. I WILL BE HOME AS SOON AS I CAN.

I was already starting to panic. He meant for me to hold the fort down by myself? I furiously typed to ask how long he thought he would be gone.

DON’T WORRY. I HAVE MY PHONE AND WE CAN FACETIME AND ILL EMAIL YOU A DETAILED LIST OF CHORES. DAVE VULGUS IS GOING TO PICK HER UP TO BABYSIT AROUND 6:30 SO ITS NOT LIKE YOU WILL HAVE MUCH TIME TO DO MORE THAN SHOW HER HOW TO SHAVE HER CUNT. BTW – YOU DECIDE IF YOU WERE GOING TO DO AN ACTUAL DEMONSTRATION?

His text was followed by several smileys and a horned devil.

YES, I WILL DO THE DEMONSTRATION, MASTER

I typed, and just as quickly erased without sending the text as I imagined never being able to live down shaving my own cunt in the living room in front of Scotty and Donny and whoever else they brought over. I received his next text before I got to send a response.

HAHA, LISTEN I HAVE TO GO BUT SINCE I KNOW YOU ARE TOO CHICKEN TO DO THE DEMONSTRATION AND I DON’T BLAME YA, I WANT YOU TO GO OUTSIDE NAKED IN THE BACKYARD AND DIG A 2 FOOT HOLE IN THE BACKYARD ABOUT ONE FOOT WIDE NEAR THE FENCE SO NO ONE ACCIDENTALLY FALLS IN. I WILL EXPLAIN LATER. I’VE GOT TO GO. I AM BOARDING A FLIGHT NOW. LOVE YA!

I was frustrated and worried, but I was already naked while I cleaned the house, so I followed my husband’s orders like a dutiful wife and slave to him and stepped outside barefoot. It was October, but it was unseasonably warm for this time of year. It was a nice clear day outside without a cloud in the sky.

We have a privacy fence, so I wasn’t too concerned about anyone seeing me as I retrieved a rusty shovel from the shed. The previous owners had left behind two shovels along with their lawn-care stuff. They must have left in a hurry. I always liked to wonder what their story may have been when I did mindless tasks like this.

[LONG FANTASY ABOUT WHAT THE FAMILY WHO LIVED THERE BEFORE MAY HAVE BEEN LIKE REMOVED]

“Hey, whatcha ‘doing?” It was the annoying Mr. Goldman talking on the other side of the fence. He clearly saw me. I’d already started to break a sweat and it was dripping down my tits as they swayed in front of me while I dug the hole my husband had instructed me to dig. “I was just going to remind you about my nephew Sol...”

“I am beginning to think I should call you Wilson,” I said jokingly, as I cut him off from whatever he was about to tell me. There was no point in bringing my hands up to cover my nudity, and I’d barely have covered my nipples if I had tried. I kept digging the hole.

“Hah? Wilson? I should be so lucky to be isolated on an island with Tom Hanks?” Mort Goldman chuckled. He was thinking of Wilson, the ball.

“I meant the annoying neighbor who was always on the other side of the fence in the show Home Improvement,” I chuckled.

“Annoying?” Mort sounded hurt.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Goldman, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that you always seem to be on the other side of the fence when I come out in my yard, and I never see your face,” I pointed out.

“Trust me,” Mort said with candor, “I’ve seen my face. You aren’t missing much,” he quipped, and added that mine was quite lovely.

“Are you sure you’re even looking at my face?” I may as well have a little laugh about this embarrassing incident with him. After all, he’d already seen me naked, and I was caught red-handed. There was no point in running into the house.

“I have to admit I am a bit of a boob man,” Mort said. It was my turn to roll my eyes at the understatement. He was a boob WATCHER who followed my bouncing tits like his life depended on it anytime he saw me face-to-face.

“I saw your daughter this morning getting ready for school,” Mort sighed, and I knew he was implying he’d seen her get dressed in the backyard. He then asked if she was still planning to go out dressed like a puppy for Halloween.

It seemed so absurd to be standing naked in my backyard, holding only a shovel while digging a hole, and discussing my daughter’s Halloween costume – that being her basically naked on all fours as a puppy. And yet Mort’s tone of voice made it sound so casual in the way he asked about it that I couldn’t help but smile.

I chuckled and said that I was thinking about doing it as well. I don’t normally do things to shock people intentionally, but there is something about Mr. Goldman that made me just want to fuck with him a little bit. Taylor seemed to have really enjoyed it.

“Oh REALLY?” he asked enthusiastically from the other side of the fence. I imagined the puny little red-headed man anxiously pushing his eye even harder against whatever hole in the fence he was using to spy on me, once he heard me say that.

“Oh yes, I mean, wouldn’t it be fun?” I pretended to think it was a fantastic idea to be leashed and walked down the street. He told me that he didn’t think I could be serious, and I executed the Heel position Tom had taught Taylor the day before. I’d been executing this position for Tom flawlessly since the start of my training. I was on my knees with my hands flat and my butt up in the air with legs apart and my tits dragging in the grass. There is no way with 36GG tits I can crawl without dragging my nipples, so they become engorged and sore while I crawl in this position.

We’d visited Frolicon 2003 held in Georgia. It’s a small fetish convention that focuses on superheroes, and they held a submissive race and obstacle course. Tom was so proud of me that I came in 2^nd place overall in the competitions! I can be very competitive in situations like that, and I was extremely enthusiastic, despite the deeply humiliating realization that men are cheering while you race with other naked women, crawling like a dog for their amusement.

I wiggled my ass and asked him if he thought I would make a good puppy or if I should pick something a little more conservative this year. I turned on the charm and smiled over my shoulder the way I’d seen Taylor look over her shoulder one day, just before getting spanked.

“Uh, no, this is really good.” I couldn’t be totally sure, but I thought he was masturbating on the other side of the fence. I heard the furious fup-fup-fup of his fist pounding something. “You aren’t wearing a tail or a leash, though,” he panted.

I was smiling because I was genuinely enjoying having the power to make him uncomfortable despite the fact I was naked. I told him that my final costume would be as a Dalmatian. “I’m going to rub white crème paint over every inch of my body and then put on black spots. I think it’ll be okay in this neighborhood. Don’t you?” I asked.

His response was a breathless and stumbling. “You never know until you try! I mean, I think some people may not like it. but they should just not look! I mean, I don’t know who wouldn’t look. Certainly there’s nothing wrong with looking.”

I slowly pulled my ass-cheeks apart behind me, revealing my entire ass and pussy to him. I asked seductively if he could see my tail. I showed him Bud, my butt-plug, as I pulled my cheeks apart wide so that he could look at my ass.

“Oh, I see it now, it looks more like a crystal or a diamond,” Mort said, still fup-fup-fupping furiously behind the fence.

“I don’t know what else I could use for a tail? Perhaps this shovel?” I straddled it and began to ride the length of the wood, pressing my clit against it and shimmying up and down while on all fours. “Maybe I should go as a witch and ride a broom?” I reached between my legs and pulled my pussy-lips apart to press down against the broom.

I probably wouldn’t have done this, but I’d been sexually frustrated lately. I was trained not to focus on my own orgasm, but I hadn’t had any in a long time, and the smoothness of the shovel handle actually felt amazing against my skin.

“Ah, oh, ok, ok, ok, oh…oh…thank you,” he said each word slower than the last one as he clearly finished pleasuring himself.

“Are you alright, sir?” I asked politely with a devilish smile on my face as I stood up – letting my tits bounce as they did.

“Mort? Where are you, Mort? Why are you at the fence? Come and get your Matzah soup, you Schmuck!” A scratchy woman’s voice with an accent similar to his called him away.

“I’ve got to go, I mean thank you and thank you,” Mort said as he fumbled away from the fence.

I finished digging the hole and smiled – that was fun.