CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Reader’s Note: These are EXCERPTS from Joanne Swift’s Journal for October 11^th (Tuesday) morning. The Swifts are in the living room and Joanne is teaching the basic lessons in leading Taylor around the house.

Some of these vignettes are important to the overall story but irrelevant details have been removed. Joanne kept an elaborate journal of everything she ate, wore, even the cleaning products she used, but it will only be included in this chapter if it is relevant to the story. The journal has been abbreviated in the interest of the story.

“If you don’t want to do it then that’s fine,” I told Janie. I said that I wouldn’t ever make her do anything that she wasn’t comfortable doing. “This isn’t about forcing you to touch your sister or making you feel shameful for doing so.”

“Please, Princess Janie…” Taylor surprised us by pleading with her sister to grab her the same way as her brothers had. “Go ahead and grab me. I promise I won’t grab you the same way and I won’t be angry with you. Sometimes I’m going to have to be moved from one place to the other at home, and you won’t want to bother telling me where I’m going. So I don’t mind if you learn to handle me. It’s just like Sandor – sometimes you have to jerk him on his leash,” she said.

“You actually shouldn’t be jerking Sandor on his leash,” I corrected Taylor, but said I agreed with the rest.

“I know, but…” Janie was apprehensive. I shouldn’t have rushed her into this lesson and I felt bad for doing so now. Her brothers obviously had had a fun time, but she seemed upset.

“It’s just that if I do it unto you, then I’d be a hippo-critical if I did not let someone do it to me,” she said.

“The word is hypocrite,” Donny corrected. He couldn’t stand for anyone to say something incorrectly and he’d spent a lot of time online correcting people who were wrong.

“It’s actually admirable of you,” I told Janie. I said that she didn’t have to do it if she didn’t want to, and that we all needed to start getting ready.

“That’s just it.” I thought we were done, but Janie still had more to say. “I want it done to me too, if I do it, though.”

I didn’t think she really knew what she was talking about and told her she didn’t want that. “I assure you it’s rough and intrusive to be touched in one of your most intimate places, much less use it as a handle to lead you around the house.”

I had no time to continue the conversation and told Scotty and Donny to get Taylor upstairs so that Janie could finish putting on Taylor’s makeup while I picked out some clothes for her. I gave them just three minutes to have it all done to her.

“What will you write on me today, Ma’am?” Taylor reminded me that Tom had said she would have some shortcoming or mistake written on her every day to help her learn.

“I told my brother that he was adopted, like an asshole.” I asked Donny to write it on her butt because he had the most experience with it. Donny was hesitant, but I told him not to argue with me. “I know you don’t mind that she did it, and she said it wasn’t her intention to hurt you, but ultimately you don’t joke about things like that because they could be true, and she needs to learn that,” I said, and waited for him to nod understanding.

Scotty put his fingers back in Taylor’s pussy and pulled her up the stairs. They went into Janie’s room to get her makeup on and do the writing.

I filled Taylor’s gym shoe with some leftovers from the day before. I realized I would probably need to toss this shoe in the garbage once she’d learned her lesson, because it was going to get gross after a few days of being used as a lunchbox.

I also looked for some clothing that would be more humiliating than what she had the day before.

There weren’t a lot of choices as I’d chosen the shortest skirt that they sell in regular stores, and for anything else we’d have to shop at the Adult Megastore.

I picked a pair of yellow lace panties, a white tank top and a pair of denim jeans. I stopped by my sewing kit and took some scissors to them to slice them up particularly small.

Taylor would have to put these on outside and wear the heels and collar she had on.

We hurried up but Janie took a little too long drawing slutty eye shadow on her sister. Donny wrote, “I told my brother he was adopted because I’m an asshole but he forgave me.” He drew a red arrow pointing to her asshole where the word asshole was.

“Good job,” I said. It wasn’t exactly what I asked for, but it was pretty close.

The doorbell rang and Sandor started barking. “Did anyone walk him?” I asked, and no one volunteered, so I knew I would need to do that as soon as they were gone to school.

We were already in the living room but we had Taylor try to open the door with cuffs on. She had some practice using her chin and trying to turn the knob, but was taking too long. I opened the door and saw that it was Kimber and Summer at the door.

The two sullen teenagers had their typical morning “Who gives a fuck?” look on their frowning faces.

Janie had on a pink top that said “Ask me if I care” with black mesh and a cheerleader-style miniskirt with sneakers.

Kimber was wearing a white tank top and denim short-shorts that while they were less revealing than the ones I had chosen for Taylor, were very close.

I was actually surprised their parents sent them out of the house this way.

At least when I did it, the idea was to humiliate and teach Taylor a lesson; but it seemed that at high school these days the girls were already doing this voluntarily.

“Sorry,” Kimber said while cocking her head and checking her phone.

“Sorry for what?” I asked.

“Missed the bus,” she said as she chewed her gum like a cow chewing its cud.

“Road trip!” Scotty declared enthusiastically because he knew this meant I had to drive them.

“Fine.” I sent Donny to walk Sandor while Taylor threw her clothes on. I picked him at random, but when he complained I reminded him his, “…new girlfriend, Hope, is coming over tomorrow. If you don’t want to see your baby picture album come out, then I suggest you behave!”

He laughed and said he wouldn’t mind that as long as I didn’t train Taylor in front of her.

“Well, she leaves at 7 and gets home around 11, but your father was very clear that if we hide this from visitors, then we’re admitting we’re ashamed of it and have some reason to hide it,” I warned him.

I, too, was pretty worried about the reaction some people may have to learning of our domestic discipline, but I was also going to follow Tom’s rules.

“You disciplined her upstairs yesterday, so do you have to do EVERYTHING dad says?” Donny said.

“He isn’t YOUR dad, though, is he?” Scotty’s comment was harsh and hurtful, although perhaps not intentionally. I know the two of them can joke about some dark things, but obviously that one was a wound too fresh to pick at.

I saw Donny’s face turn pale and he got real quiet. He put up no argument and took Sandor for a walk. Scotty went with him to apologize and talk. I would let the two of them handle this, although I wanted to smack Scotty for saying that to his brother.

We got Taylor dressed in the backyard. I could hear Mr. Goldman on the other side of the fence. He must have our schedule down pat because he even mumbled something about our being late.

“Is that you, Mr. Goldman?” I asked over the fence with a smile.

“No, I mean yes, but I’m just doing some gardening,” he lied.

“You garden at some pretty odd times,” I smiled.

Summer called him creepy, loud enough for him to hear. The neighbor said nothing in his defense. I really disliked those two girls for many different reasons.

Once Kimber saw that Taylor was wearing an almost identical outfit, except that her tank top was even more skimpy and the jean shorts only covered the crack of her ass and the line of her cunt, she squawked like a bird and said, “You Betch! That’s MY outfit!”

“I had no idea you were wearing it, Mistress Kimber! Mistress Joanne chose it for me!” she said.

I really disliked being called by my first name by my daughter, and I absolutely hated her friends being elevated to Mistress. They were just two mean empty-headed girls and far removed from lifestyle dominatrixes that had impressed me with their strength and knowledge.

“Do you mind not insisting she call you Mistress?” I asked the two of them.

“Whatevs, we were just goofing on her when we said that,” Summer shrugged apathetically.

“Do either of you have any questions about the rules Tom had Fart Face send you yesterday?” I asked as we got Taylor stuffed into her outfit.

The tank top was so loose that her side-boob was fully exposed unless her arm was at her side. I told Taylor she wasn’t allowed to keep her hands there and would need to swing her arms when she walked properly.

“No, do you?” Summer asked me back sarcastically.

“Do I what?” I asked.

“Have any questions about the rules that blah blah whatevers?” Summer asked dismissively.

I didn’t dignify her question with a response and led Taylor out to the car after stuffing her panties in her mouth.

“Bye-Bye Creeper,” Summer waved at the fence where Mr. Goldman lived on the other side. “Hope you enjoyed the free show!”

“I did, thank you very much!” Mr. Goldman sighed happily.

I smiled – he was kind of funny and didn’t seem to take the girl’s vicious attitude to heart.

October 11^th, 2016 – TUESDAY MORNING – Taylor and all the kids are crammed into the Prius and Joanne is taking them to Cherry Lawn High.

Seven people in a Prius is a tight fit – everyone was packed in tightly, almost on each other’s laps, with Taylor in the middle with Donny up front next to me. He usually wanted the shotgun seat but it almost always went to Tom or his sister Taylor.

Donny claimed the front seat as if it was his birthright and I chuckled to myself that it was little privileges and benefits like this that made Taylor’s discipline less disruptive and more beneficial to the others of the house. Her siblings didn’t really have that many chores before this began that went to her now and obviously they enjoyed lording the fact none of them lost their clothing privileges over her – but it was tangible little benefits like this that would make this work long term. If not they would very likely grow tired of having it always in their face and making it awkward for friends to come over.

I was also just happy Donny got something he wanted instead of being relegated to the back seat. He had taken the news he wasn’t biologically related to Tom very well and I was glad to see him smile.

“I’ll just swing by and drop you off at school after we drop them off at high school,” I told Janie, who was crammed in between her sister and Kimber. I asked Kimber and Summer if they needed to text their parents to let them know they were going to be late to school and that I was driving them.

“Nah, they don’t give a shit. It’s just good we’re going and not ditching,” Kimber admitted.

I felt sorry for her – the way she described her parents they sounded completely apathetic about the way their daughter (once son) had turned out.

“Can I ask you something?” Scotty asked Kimber.

“No, I will not go to prom with you,” the cute blonde giggled.

“I may already have a date for the prom!” I hated to see Scotty put his hopes in a varsity cheerleader that had merely offered to go trick-or-treating with him. He asked Kimber how she managed to tuck “it” and wear denim short-shorts.

“It?” Kimber asked sheepishly. She knew precisely what Scotty was asking – where was this transgender girl’s penis hiding. “If I tell you all of my secrets then I’d have to kill you.” Kimber had a wicked grin on her face. Kimber and Summer both wore their makeup a lot like Taylor used to; it made me think of Maleficent crossed with Marylyn Manson, and made the two of them look dangerous – or, at least, a lot like bitches.

There was an awkward silence as Scotty thought of how to respond to that.

“You can stop looking.” Kimber smiled at him and suggested he stop staring at her crotch. “It’s not going to pop out and bite you!”

“Sorry.” Scotty actually seemed intimidated. I think Taylor intimidated boys, too, before the discipline began, but she never initiated flirting or flirted back, so it was the same and yet a little different, too.

She rubbed my son’s chest, cozied up next to him, and asked if he liked girls with something extra.

“I just like girls in general, but yeah, why not?” he said.

“He’s cute.” Kimber rubbed his face and asked when we’d discipline him. “He’d be a lot more fun than Farty Face,” she pouted, making fun of my daughter’s nickname by getting it slightly wrong intentionally.

“I probably won’t have to, but it’s nice to know you’ll help train him if he needs it,” I joked. The girls didn’t respond to me – I think they were a little perturbed I had been eavesdropping.

I don’t think he really thought this through as to the actual mechanics of what he could do with a girl that had a penis, but at least I didn’t have to worry about him getting her pregnant! I smirked while I listened to their banter.

There was silence again, and Janie asked the two girls if they’d seen that J-Lo had put a selfie on Instagram saying she had the best booty over Kim Kardashian.

“I don’t keep up with current events.” Summer dismissed my daughter’s attempt at conversation entirely.

I found it hard to believe that teenagers these days had to navigate dealing with role models who got into competitions on who had the nicest bare butt and posted it to the entire world. I felt a lot less concerned about my spanking video being seen if a singer like Jenifer Lopez was offering free photos of her bare ass on the internet.

Kimber didn’t mind talking to Janie, though, and said she thought it was a great selfie but that Kim still had the better booty. “Did you see Taylor Swift’s flash tats when she was out with Drake last night on Instagram?” she asked.

Scotty interjected by saying that when he searches on Taylor Swift he uses, “Flashes TITS!”

“No, silly.” Kimber said he was so cute but so stupid, in a playful way. “Flash tats are like body jewelry you can re-wear that you attach to your body!” She showed him her phone and a picture of them, adding that she wanted them.

“That would be good to get for our sister!” Scotty suggested we start by bedazzling her butthole.

“You are so nasty!” Kimber smiled as she said it – she was actually flirting with my son.

I felt a little naughty, imagining the word “WHORE” on her ass in big letters, just like these two trailer-park whores I saw on Donny’s website.

I wasn’t sure I’d like his first real girlfriend to be an actual boy, but I was glad the two of them were at least getting along.

“I don’t think the REAL Taylor Swift would flash her tits at anybody!” Janie was a huge fan of the singer and it usually set off my daughter, Taylor, when Janie referred to the singer as the “Real Taylor Swift”.

I was pleasantly surprised to see Taylor looking out the window as we drove along and letting it wash off her back – that, or she wasn’t paying attention.

“I bet OUR Taylor would flash her tits, though, wouldn’t she?” Summer asked evilly, and told my daughter to show us.

Taylor was listening, because she looked helpless in the back as Summer and Kimber encouraged her to flash an elderly man in a tan shirt and pants riding a moped next to us.

“That’s Vern the janitor! Flash him!! OMG! That would be so funny!” Summer and Kimber asked.

“You don’t have the authority to tell her to flash!” I said.

“We can tell her to show us her tits to see if they’re aroused,” Kimber reminded me. Well, at least I now knew they’d actually read the rules.

Taylor lifted her shirt and pressed her tits to the window, and the old man nearly fell off his moped.

“That wasn’t to see if she was aroused, that was to shock that old man,” I said, and I clarified that she shouldn’t have to do that out in public. “You need to find a place where she won’t get in trouble for doing it.”

“Nobody’s pulling us over in traffic for showing tits! And if you’ve ever been here after we win a football game, the cheerleaders flash the entire crowd!” Summer said derisively.

I growled softly to myself – I wasn’t going to argue with this brat, and what was done was done.

I didn’t think that could be true. I looked in the rearview mirror and could see Donny looked like he was going to say something about Hope not being that way, but he thought better than to argue with the girls.

I decided that was the wisest. “Well, for now, no more flashing tits out the window! That goes for everybody,” I said, just in case Kimber or Summer got any wild hairs to do it themselves.

I really didn’t like these girls and I didn’t have a lot of faith in them keeping up with my daughter’s behavior if they couldn’t keep up with their own. I made sure to remind them to text me if she did do anything wrong.

“Blah, blah, blah,” Summer said sarcastically, mocking me.

“What’s that?” I asked Summer.

“I said I sure will!” Summer lied.

I let it go – if Tom wanted them in charge, I’d have to put up with it. It was probably worse for Taylor than for me anyway.

“Maybe next time you two could text me a picture of your outfits in the morning, and then I could avoid having Taylor wear the same thing as you,” I said, changing the direction of the conversation. We were almost at their school.

“Nah,” Summer answered dismissively, with no explanation.

There was an awkward pause, and finally Kimber said she wasn’t sure exactly what we were trying to do.

I was about to answer when Taylor did for me.

“They’re trying to shame me and humiliate me so that no one at school takes me seriously as a threat or as intimidation. As a tramp, I’m to be a source of amusement for boys and a source of scorn for girls. They’re exposing me and making me vulnerable so that the real me can come out, Ma’am.”

That was nicely said, and I told her so.

“Wow, so am I trying to do that to myself? Or do I just dress like a fucking slut?” Kimber chuckled.

“I think you dress like a fucking slut,” Summer said scornfully, but in the playful way that the two of them traded barbs back and forth, much like Taylor used to do with them before her discipline began.

I decided this was a time I could use to discuss something with Donny that I’d been thinking about all morning, but hadn’t had the courage to actually bring up.

“So about Don…” I said, and waited for Donny to acknowledge me. He was listening to Kimber and Summer argue in the back of the car.

He wasn’t used to sitting up front with me, because usually it was Tom and I up front, or Taylor if Tom wasn’t in the car. I asked him if he wanted to know more about his biological father and actually meet him.

“Well, what’s he like?” Donny asked. This was a very uncomfortable question for me because the words ‘lazy’, ‘liar’, ‘selfish’, and ‘fuck-up’ don’t really do him justice; they simply aren’t strong enough.

“I’ve never wanted to tell you my personal feelings about your biological father because I didn’t want to taint your own opinion of him,” I admitted truthfully.

“Huh, huh, huh, you said taint!” Donny imitated Beavis and Butthead jokingly.

“This is serious,” I reminded him, and said that we’d need to talk about it later, but we were arriving at school soon. “I can ask Tom if we can set up a time for you to talk to Don, and maybe we can even drive to his house or something,” I suggested.

“You haven’t needed to ask Dad for anything lately.” I was pleased Donny still considered Tom his ‘Dad’. And he was right – I’ve been taking the initiative lately with a lot of things. It was still uncomfortable, and I wasn’t sure I should be doing some of it, but he’d picked up on it. “Why can’t my dad come here and visit ME?”

I didn’t want to tell him that it was unlikely because Don was too self-absorbed to bother making the trip to see his son, so I just pointed at the school and said we were here and I’d think about it.

I may have been taking some initiative lately, but I was still reluctant to confront issues head-on and have deep discussions about hard topics a lot of the time – which is why I hadn’t told Tom everything that had happened over the last two days.

We live in a great neighborhood that isn’t far from the school, and that’s part of why it’s so expensive. I was there and able to drop them off in less than 10 minutes. I asked if they needed a note.

“Nobody uses paper notes anymore, Gramma,” Summer said as she stepped out of the car, and Kimber explained that they had an online tool for absences now.

“Things are changing so quickly.” I tried not to take Summer’s insults personally, but they made me feel old and ugly. I kissed the kids goodbye as they filed out of the car. It was normal for me to kiss all of them except for Taylor, who rolled her eyes with scorn at how old-fashioned and touchy-feely I could be about expressions of affection.

This time, though, Taylor leaned in for me to kiss her, and I was so pleasantly surprised that I didn’t know what to do. I whispered in Taylor’s ear that I was so glad she wasn’t going to be like Summer any longer.

“I know,” was all she said in response.

I watched her trot off behind her friends to school in the outfit I’d provided for her, clutching the tennis shoe like it was a purse, and I thought how weirdly normal it felt to kiss her goodbye as she left for school, even though it was for the first time in years.

October 11^th, 2016 – TUESDAY mid-morning– Joanne is dropping off Janie at Cherry Lawn Middle – they are the only ones left in the car.

“Mom, maybe you can let Taylor wear one of my Halloween costumes to school tomorrow?” Janie suggested as I dropped her off at the middle school after finishing delivering the others to high school.

“That’s an idea, but they probably don’t fit her,” I said.

“I guess that’s the idea: that she pops out in all the wrong places,” Janie smiled. I loved to see her smile – braces and all. “Do you mind if I wear a Halloween costume tomorrow?” She said they were doing the same events at her school as the high-schoolers, and it would be okay to come dressed.

I agreed and kissed her goodbye. “You did very good today, and I’m really proud of some of the things you said. I’m not sure how I feel about you drinking my special milk, though,” I told her when it was just us.

“I liked it,” she said enthusiastically.

“You didn’t really like it?” I found that hard to believe. I love the taste of cum after years of learning to love it through training, and it conjured up passionate images of hot sex with my husband when I did. The milk this morning tasted of sour piss and had HAIR floating in it – even I found it pretty disgusting.

“Well, it wasn’t that bad, and if you and Taylor are going to do it, then so can I!” she declared.

“Well, you were all breast fed.” I admitted to her that I had breast fed each and every one of them, even if they didn’t remember. “So everyone in this household has all already lived entirely on the milk that shoots out of my boobs.” I wanted them to know that it wasn’t all that disgusting to actually drink something that came out of another family member – even though there was clearly a huge distance between breast milk and man-cum.

Tom had also loved my breast milk – if you want to be technical everyone in the family has consumed it except for Sandor. I consider Sandor a member of the family even though he is a pet – just like Taylor is now.

“You’ve got enough boobies to feed us and two families next door!” Janie giggled. I do have pretty huge boobs, and back then my milking routine was a regular part of my discipline training – I probably could have fed quite a lot more than two other families.

It did seem perfectly natural to breast feed – although Tom made it somewhat ritualistic and watched me pump and express milk openly on the floor almost like I was a cow – that part was intensely humiliating.

I decided the more I made it an issue, the more she may actually like it. Janie had a habit of wanting to do something and abandoning it after a few days, or even a few hours. I told her she also didn’t have to call Taylor ’Fart Face‘, but that I appreciate her doing it when she’s home.

“It’s just like I said,” Janie said before turning to go inside the school, “Do unto others as you would have done to you, and I wouldn’t like being called ‘Fart Face’.”

I told her with a knowing grin that I know she wouldn’t, and that is why it’s being done unto Taylor.

She smiled in agreement and waved goodbye, running after some friends from school. She was very social and had a lot of friends. I noticed she was wearing stretchy pants again without a long shirt to cover her waist. I’d noticed this initially when we went bike-riding on Sunday and said nothing because, compared to some of the other girls, the skin-tight black pants Janie was wearing were conservative.

You could still see the outline of her butt-crack crease when she walked because they were intended to be worn under a skirt or with a long enough shirt that the crotch is covered.

There wasn’t a lot I could say to complain, considering two of her friends had on the same thing. One had on pink yoga pants and the other one had on a white leotard that one would wear while practicing ballet – except she had no tutu and was at school!

I would also sound pretty inconsistent if I called her over and humiliated her in front of her friends to chastise her over it, when I’d just dropped off her sister, who was only two years older, in Daisy Duke jean-shorts at her school.

I chalked it up to a fad and decided the less said about it, the better – there were bigger fish to fry.

October 11^th, 2016 – TUESDAY Afternoon– Joanne has dropped off her kids and is going to do some shopping.

Tom normally gives me a very detailed shopping list and a budget to get the items we need. He uses an online application to estimate the costs and is very close to accurate. I can usually only buy luxury items with the leftover money if I can find ways to stretch a dollar by buying generic or items on sale.

However, I was feeling like getting out of the house. I think the power of being Mistress of the house had energized me some, and I just wanted to get out of the house. It smelled like Taylor’s pussy and sweat in the living room.

I drove to the Loop where we’d bought the Halloween costumes on Sunday and did a little window shopping.

I went into the pet store, even though we had plenty of food for Sandor. We give him “Blue” - only the best and most expensive food for the family pet.

Fart Face, on the other hand, was to have scraps and cum-flavored milk.

I wasn’t sure what Tom would say when he found out I let her drink it or that the boys contributed to it. I thought he would either tell me this was real outside thinking as far as boxes go, or he would hit the roof and say I’d gone way too far. The chance that he would do the latter was the main reason I didn’t text to him any of what happened.

I sent a simple text to his phone.

THINKING OF YOU MASTER. EVERYTHING IS FINE AND WE ARE ADJUSTING WELL TO FART FACES DISCIPLINE NOW. SCOTTY IS GOING WITH DONNY TONIGHT TO HELP WATCH HER BABYSIT BECAUSE DONNY WANTS TO TUTOR THE GIRL FROM THE HALLOWEEN STORE. I KNOW YOU ARE BUSY AND I DON’T EXPECT A RESPONSE UNTIL LATER SO PLEASE ENJOY YOUR DAY AND KNOW THAT I LOVE YOU SO VERY MUCH. I WILL FOLLOW MY STANDARD ROUTINE.

I felt a little guilty because I was already breaking my standard routine by just going window shopping. This seemed like a minor detail to me, though, and I sauntered around the pet store.

I stopped and looked for a while at the dog crates. The cages could be easily put together and there were some big enough that Taylor could easily fit in one.

It was very naughty to consider caging my daughter in the living room like a dog. I wondered if Tom would be proud of me for taking the initiative if he returned and his daughter was as well-trained as his wife.

I smiled at the thought of him showering me with affection for straightening her out. As a Libra, I always consider the other side of the coin, and I wondered if I did too good of a job would he start leaving me alone more and more because I didn’t need his help?

I decided not to purchase the cage – that seemed a little much. I did get some additional dog toys that Taylor could play with; some canned dog food; a few dog treats; and a couple things I thought would make her puppy training around Mr. Goldman a little more believable.

I fantasized, though, about buying a cage that was big enough to put both Kimber and Summer in as well. “Lord knows they both need it,” I whispered to myself.

“What’s that?” the cashier asked me to repeat what I had just said.

I turned and saw that there was a customizable-dog-collar machine at the front of the store near the cash registers. You could print your dog’s name on several different style leather collars.

“My dogs,” I said “They both need customized dog collars in case they get lost.”

“Oh? What are their names,” she asked.

“Well, one is named Sandor or Clegane, but we mostly call him Sandor,” I said.

The cashier was wearing a blue smock and glasses and looked like a bookworm. “Oh, that’s clever! So he’s named after Sandor Clegane, the hound from Game of Thrones?”

“I think so,” I said, and admitted I’d never read the books.

“What’s the other one?” she asked.

I was embarrassed to admit my so-called dog’s name was Fart Face, but since I needed her to customize the collar I said Taylor’s new pet name out loud. It sounded absurd when I said it to the cashier, but she just laughed.

“You named one of your dogs after one of the most ferocious warriors Westeros has ever known, and you called your other one Fart Face?” she said, as she typed my order into her cash register for processing.

I wasn’t sure how to answer her, and I stood there turning a little red.

“I had a dog like yours,” she smirked knowingly.

“I’m not sure you have,” I said, returning her wry grin.

“She was always getting into mischief around the house. And then when you’d try to snuggle her, she’d lift her tail and fart right in your face. I think she was trying to be naughty just to get some attention, because she loved us to pay attention to her and she didn’t care if we were yelling or hugging on her to get it,” she said.

I thought about that as a metaphor, and agreed that did sound like my daughter.

“Your what?” she said with a shock, before adding “Oh, you’re a doggy mommy! Yes, I consider my dogs part of the family, too. They’re more than just pets!” She assured me she understood and asked if I wanted an inscription ingot to hang down off the collar.

Sandor’s collar was black with treated artificial leather and diamond studs, and the letters that spelled his name. I thought it was about time we decided on a single name for him, and Sandor would be it. A single metal dog tag hung off the collar, and I had it customized as follows:

The Pet in this Collar Belongs to the Swift Family

Devoted and Obedient

If lost return to Tom Swift

555-123-1234

She asked me what I wanted Fart Face’s collar to say, and I told her it could be pink with the matching diamond studs and the same dog tag hanging off of it.

I smiled so proudly when the collars were finished. I paid for them and exited the store.

October 11^th, 2016 – TUESDAY Afternoon– Joanne is home and has put away the things she bought. She is naked and doing her chores and mandatory exercises.

I had just completed all of my Kegels and 100 floor squats in the nude in the living room. It can be very exhausting and feel a little silly to do when you’re alone in a quiet house. I missed Tom’s supervision, even if it was by cell phone. I took a picture of myself naked, dripping with sweat, on the floor with the caption “missing your dick, master” and texted it to my husband.

The next exercise involves lying on your back with your hands behind you. The fingers are interlaced, and legs are apart, while you lift yourself up and down and spread your pussy lips and close them using only the internal muscles –puckering the pussy lips as if kissing by opening and closing them with the internal muscles, only as you slide up and down.

I decided I would probably teach some of these to Taylor tonight before she babysat. She was just doing that until Thursday, and then they needed her for the reception Sunday night. I was hoping Tom would be home by Friday so that he could give Taylor more remedial disciplinary training all day Saturday. It wasn’t too hard in small doses after she got home from sitting, or in the mornings, but the entire Saturday would be very taxing for me to be in charge all day.

HEY, MY BOSS SAW THAT PICTURE YOUR JUST TXTED

My phone buzzed and I saw an instant message from Tom. He must have been flustered because he would never misspell the word YOU if he wasn’t hurrying to send me something. I quickly texted back an apologetic response.

I AM SO SO SORRY SIR!

I was mortified I had just been exposed to his boss and who knows who else on his IT staff. I had so little understanding of social media and I probably should never send selfies like that. I wanted to text to him that if Jenifer Lopez can post her ass on Instagram for the world then I could post my tits just for my husband, but I didn’t think he would get that reference and I was worried I had just got him in serious trouble.

I spent the next three minutes expecting a tirade about how he has it at work and how dare I send these dirty photos, but when he responded it was something else entirely.

BOSS MAN WAS AMUSED. SAID HE WISHED HIS WIFE WAS THAT WAY. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH. I SHOULD BE BACK BY FRIDAY NIGHT BUT IT MAY BE LATE. BOSS WILL BE COMING BACK WITH ME FROM AIRPORT SO NO NEED TO MEET ME THERE.

I sent him a text asking if his boss was coming to the house and how I should prepare. There were a lot of things I would need to know about what we were going to do with Taylor if so. His boss seemed like he had a sense of humor but he may flip out of he saw Taylor the same way.

YOU PROBABLY SHOULD BE READY FOR ANYTHING! PLAN FOR THE WORST AND IF IT TURNS OUT BETTER ITS ALL GRAVY. I’D EXPECT US TO SHOW UP BUT IF WE CAN’T THEN USE YOUR BEST JUDGMENT. TAYLOR WILL BE ON HER DATE FRIDAY ANYWAY RIGHT? GO AHEAD AND TELL HER I SAID IT WAS OKAY BUT MAKE SURE YOU TELL DONNY’S FRIEND TO HAVE HER HOME RIGHT AT 11 AND TO REPORT ANY BEHAVIOR THAT IS RUDE AND IT WILL BE HANDLED. I HAVEN’T BEEN GETTING MANY TEXTS FROM THE HANDLERS AT SCHOOL OR DONNY WHEN SHE IS BABYSITTING SO I AM ASSUMING THE DISCIPLINE IS WORKING. I THOUGHT IT WOULD TAKE A LITTLE LONGER OR SHE WOULD BE BEGGING TO STOP BY NOW. THE ONLY ONE WHO KEEPS TEXTING ME IS THE NEIGHBOR VULGUS. HE WANTS ME TO DO A BACHELOR PARTY WITH HIM AND HIS FUTURE SON IN LAW ON SATURDAY NIGHT. I GUESS HE THINKS I KNOW HOW TO PARTY OR THE BEST PLACES TO GO BUT HONESTLY ONLY PLACE I WANT TO BE IS HOME WITH YOU.

I was surprised that Dave hadn’t mentioned a bachelor party to me until I remembered that that was something that was usually just organized by the men in the bridal party between themselves.

I WOULD LIKE YOU HOME TOO MASTER! TOO BAD YOU CAN’T DO ONE OF OUR FAMOUS POKER PARTIES SO YOU CAN BE HOME AND HAVE YOUR BACHELOR PARTY HERE!

I reminded him of the times before we’d moved here when he had bachelor parties and I served in an apron, not unlike the one Taylor had on, and brought beers and snacks while he and his friends played cards.

I didn’t expect his response.

GREAT IDEA! KILL TWO BIRDS WITH ONE STONE. YES, I WILL TELL VULGUS TO MEET AT OUR HOUSE AT 7 AND THEN WE WILL PLAY IT BY EAR ABOUT GOING OUT FOR THE NIGHT. FF HAS BEEN WELL BEHAVED BASED ON THE LACK OF TEXTS IVE BEEN RECEIVING SO THIS WILL BE A GOOD TEST. I REALLY HAVE TO GO. I MAY NOT BE ABLE TO GET BACK ON UNTIL LATE TONIGHT SO I WANT YOU TO GO OUTSIDE NAKED AND DIG THAT HOLE YOU DUG YESTERDAY A LITTLE DEEPER AND THEN I WANT YOU TO JOG TWO LAPS AROUND THE BACKYARD FENCE WITH BUD IN YOUR MOUTH. LOVE YOU!

I knew better than to ask him for clarification on the reasons for this task, and he was obviously busy anyway. If he had wanted me to know the reasons he would have told me. I stopped my exercises immediately and walked outside wearing only Bud and my day collar.

I immediately said, “Hello Mr. Goldman,” as I opened the sliding glass door to the patio in the yard. If he wasn’t there then no one would hear me, but he was there.

“What a coincidence to see you again, Mrs. Swift,” my neighbor said through the wooden privacy fence.

“Oh, you can see me?” I pretended I was surprised and shocked.

“No, I can’t, that was a figure of speech,” Mort lied, and suggested I continue with what I was doing.

I retrieved the shovel and started digging the hole I started yesterday deeper.

“What are you doing that for?” he asked after a few hot minutes while I quickly worked up a lather of sweat and sheen on my body.

“I thought you couldn’t see me?” I protested.

“No, I can’t,” he lied, but said he heard digging and knew I was digging the day before.

“Well, it’s okay if you can see me.” I told him that I didn’t mind and he was welcome to come in the backyard and watch me dig.

“It may be hard to explain to my wife what I’m doing in your backyard,” he suggested.

“You’re just helping a neighbor pass the time,” I said invitingly through the fence. I should mention that I have absolutely no attraction to this man in any way, but I found it fun to play “Jenga” with him by seeing what I could do to shock him when I was alone or when Taylor came home.

“That’s true, and I was helping you find your daughter’s leash,” he suggested.

“Yes, her Halloween costume.” I reminded him that sounded a lot less suggestive and invited him to watch or stay there if he wanted.

“Well, I would come,” Mr. Goldman said, but implied he hadn’t quite cum yet and could do that in the privacy of his own yard much easier.

I was too afraid to suggest that he stick his cock through the knothole in the privacy fence and contribute to our almond-milk carton; however, it did seem to be a waste of semen, considering the man obviously jerked off as furiously as my sons did.

I found it hard to believe I was even contemplating it. I liked to know he was beating off to me – that was kind of flattering – but I found the idea of drinking HIS cum mixed in with the rest to be abhorrent. I know semen is semen, and I’d probably not be able to tell the difference once it was mixed in with the rest, but there was something so off-putting about him that I felt guilty for even thinking about asking him not to waste his orgasm behind the fence.

He was a disgusting little man and just fun to mess with, and that was all – not someone I’d like to actually see naked.

“I need to run two laps around the yard in a minute and then I’m going back inside, but I’ll probably see you tonight when my daughter comes home?” I asked him sweetly while hiding my contempt for him.

The little nebbish was the opposite of athletically inclined, but I could hear him working up a fervor as he pumped his little cock on the other side of the fence. “She’ll be in her house-pet costume at the same time?” he asked hopefully.

“Yes, but this time Scotty and Donny will be walking her together,” I said.

“Where will Janie be?” he asked creepily.

He made me shudder a bit with his question about Janie.

“Why do you ask?” I asked him suspiciously.

“No reason,” he said as he pumped his dick. “I uh..uh..uh…just, you know, thought she shouldn’t be left out of the funnnnn of walking her sister.”

That actually made sense, and I told him that she’d probably be outside with us when Taylor came home from school.

He didn’t say anything on the other side of the fence for a long time, and I finished my laps with my tits bouncing and flapping in my face in broad daylight. It felt exhilarating to have the wind on my bare body as my ass cheeks clapped back and forth while I jogged for my husband’s amusement. He was in Georgia and not able to see me, but I knew that he knew and trusted I was outside following his orders, and that pleased me.

October 11^th, 2016 – TUESDAY After school– Joanne has completed her daily chores, washed, shaved, dressed and is waiting for the kids to get home.

Taylor was late getting home from school. I really thought that was going to stop, now that we’d implemented discipline with her. She’d seemed so willing to embrace it. I was disappointed, more than I was angry, that it was only Tuesday and she was back to her old tricks.

When Scotty and Donny got home together they said that Kimber, Summer, and Taylor hadn’t made the bus. Ordinarily, before the discipline began, that would not be a surprise to me, but I was very worried. I texted the two handlers my husband had chosen and got no response.

“Why didn’t you watch for your sister and make sure she got on the bus?” I asked them angrily.

“We volunteered to watch out for her, but Dad insisted we weren’t ready!” Donny reminded me.

I asked the two of them to start combing the neighborhood for her and I told them I would text them when she got home. I wondered if this was some tactic of hers to get me angry so that she could ride the lightning again where I wore out her ass – like I had the night before – or if she was actually in trouble.

I can worry a great deal, and in the span of 5 minutes I went over various scenarios in my head that ranged from a man abducting her because she was dressed like a slut to her running off with a boy in a pickup truck because she was dressed like a slut and he offered her a ride.

I was regretting sending her to school in so skimpy an outfit, and by the time Janie got home I was ready to call the local police to help with the search. I know you have to wait 24 hours to report a missing person, but in this neighborhood the cops are bored as there’s seldom any crime to deal with and would probably drive the neighborhood as a courtesy.

I wouldn’t have even noticed Taylor was missing prior to the discipline, because she would often be gone for hours at a time before coming home and checking in with me. However, today I was in a panic.

It was my second day as a “Mistress”, and I’d already lost the girl I was training. I had gone from worried, to angry, to feeling defeated and like a failure in under an hour and a half.

Finally, I saw Kimber and Summer walking up the street with Taylor. She was still dressed as I’d sent her to school, and wiggling her ass and talking and joking with them as she did.

I texted Donny and Scotty that she was home, and to come home, and ran down three houses to where she was to give her a piece of my mind.

“Where were you? Why didn’t you text?” I demanded and told her to get home so that I can properly punish her.

“You took my phone, Mistress.” Taylor looked hurt by my accusations and said that she’d been cleaning Summer’s bedroom in exchange for watching her at school. “Mistress Summer said she’d texted you.”

“Oh my bad, I forgot.” Summer was popping gum.

“I thought I told you not to call them Mistress!” I grabbed Taylor by the wrist and started pulling her down the street.

“Where’s your shoe?” I demanded.

“Oh yeah, here it is.” Summer had it in her purse. The shoe looked gross and still had food all over it. I took it gingerly from Summer. I didn’t have to dismiss the two of them – they quickly disappeared, off to wherever they go to bitch about their parents and smoke. I made Taylor carry the shoe home before popping her hard on the butt to straighten up and walk properly without slouching.

A nice but stern older woman who had never talked to me before was walking her dog and had overheard the exchange. “If more parents were like you there wouldn’t be the problems we have in this country today. You handled that quite well,” she said as her white dog sniffed my foot.

“Thank you,” I said, and introduced myself as Joanne Swift and said I was new to the neighborhood. I offered to shake her hand.

She declined to take mine and acted as if I had just rushed twelve steps too far in introducing myself. “It is a pleasure to meet you,” she said “I am Mrs. Victoria Waxerman and I bid good day to you.”

She walked away in a huff, sticking her nose up in the air. She reminded me somewhat of a stern schoolmarm from the Victorian era who spoke with a very precise cadence in her voice. She seemed like quite a character.

“That lady walks like she has a stick up her ass, Mistress,” Taylor chuckled. I thought exactly the same thing, but I feigned offense and pulled her towards the house by her wrist.

“That lady is your better, and you’ll learn that even when someone is rude to smile and be polite. If you don’t learn to take this seriously, I’ll track down where she lives and ask HER to teach you some manners,” I threatened, and suggested Taylor had many OTHER handles on her body I could be pulling her by if she didn’t hurry.

“I’m sure she couldn’t teach more effectively than you or Master!” Taylor sounded like she was buttering me up.

“You’d be surprised! I bet she’d cut a switch and whip your ass if you talked to her as casually as you’re talking to me right now!” I was still angry, but I was angry at Summer for having not texted me to ASK if they could be late.

We HAD taken Taylor’s phone, and it wasn’t her fault that Summer told her she would text and didn’t. We’d also mentioned Taylor would clean up their rooms for them, and yet never specified a timeframe for that, so I couldn’t exactly call that enough reason to punish her.

I found myself searching for a good reason to punish her anyway because she just seemed so casual and flippant after getting home from school. I wanted her like she was this morning, when she was enthusiastic for the training to come. She was different somehow – compliant, but yet going through the motions.

I walked her to the backyard, told her to strip and went inside. “You’ll spend the entire time cuffed after we get you inside!” I insisted, and Taylor agreed that would be best.

I was happy she wasn’t being defiant or trying to defend herself.

I came back out with a knife and told her I wanted her to cut a switch off the birch tree in the backyard that I could use to whip her with. The mighty old tree had lost all of his leaves with autumn; and now, with his branches bare, it made it easy to pick the very best switches.

“Just so you know, I think Mr. Goldman’s on the other side of the fence, Ma’am,” Taylor said while standing naked and making no effort to hide herself, but not standing up straight or in any particular position.

“Mr. Goldman, are you over there?” I asked over the fence.

There was silence and I assumed maybe for once he’d gone inside and she was hearing things.

“I am,” he said after a long pause. “I just didn’t want you to think I was always standing at the fence watching.”

“No, I don’t think that at all,” I lied, but asked if he would prefer I leave the patio blinds open so that he can have a better view in the living room. I was being sarcastic, but he clearly didn’t notice because he said that would be fantastic, and asked why I was going to spank Taylor.

I really didn’t know what she’d done wrong exactly to give him a good answer.

I told Taylor to cut three switches off the birch tree in the backyard and I would pick the strongest one. If one breaks then I’d use one of the others, and she would keep cutting until I finished delivering twenty five swats.

“Well, I don’t want to bother you with our family discipline issues, but if you’re curious she came home late from school,” I said.

“That’s because I was cleaning Summer’s bedroom for her because I was told to do it and she told me she texted you, Ma’am!” Taylor pouted.

“She’s also learning not to question my judgment and to be less rude to her betters. On the way here she said a woman walked like she had a stick up her ass!” I said through the fence, while Taylor struggled to cut the switches off a tree.

“That would probably be Mrs. Waxerman.” Mort knew exactly who we had talked to from that description and said she was the local Yente. “She used to visit the people that lived in your house all the time. She’s very nosy – always trying to look in people’s houses if they leave their blinds open,” he said. “I like her – she reminds me of my mother, only nicer and less nosy.”

“I hate when people do that,” I smiled at him and hinted I was well aware HE was doing that.

“Well, I only watch what people show me. Would you rather I go and let you discipline your daughter in private?” he asked.

“No, as I said…” I told him that he was welcome to come over any time and watch from the backyard if he liked. “It’ll do her some good. I’m not ashamed that I’m punishing my daughter. I’m ashamed of her behavior, but the corrections are always done out in the open in our house. That way her brothers and sister learn from her pain as well,” I said.

“Well, I’d like to learn from her pain because I really abhor my own.” Mort was clearly joking.

I hate to admit he usually makes me laugh with his wisecracking comments.

“You know I’m told I’m such a good lover because I practice a lot on my own,” he said, but added “…but I’ll stay here if you don’t mind.”

I told him it was fine with me, but that I’d be spanking Taylor in the backyard and it may be a little intense, and that it was his fence and he’s free to watch or not as he chooses.

“That would be just awful. I’m not sure I could endure watching a teenage girl get spanked by her mother with a switch in the nude in her backyard.” He wasn’t even trying to hide his enthusiasm when I heard him unzip his pants to pull out his dick again.

“Did you just unzip your pants?” I asked as I selected the heartiest of three switches Taylor handed me. I knew he had, but I asked it in a naïve and unassuming way just to play with him.

“No,” he lied, and then said, “Maybe,” and lastly admitted, “Yes”.

“Go inside,” I told Taylor quickly.

“No, I’ll zip it back up,” he promised, hoping I wouldn’t send her away.

“No need,” I told him, and then turned to Taylor to finish my instructions. “Go inside and ask your brothers to come watch you get punished. They spent the last HOUR AND A HALF LOOKING FOR YOU. You’ll offer to give each of them a hand-job as compensation for their lost time. They’ve been at school all day with pent-up frustrations from being around sexy little girls; and now, as you can see from our neighbor’s reaction to you having to be punished in the nude, well, that’ll drive them over the edge,” I said sternly.

Taylor actually smiled and said, “Should I bring the milk carton out here as well, Ma’am?” she asked.

“Unless you want to carry their jizz back inside in your mouth and spit it in, then YES!”

Taylor performed an invisible curtsy for me and acknowledged the order before opening the sliding glass door and going inside to ask her brothers to come out and watch her punishment.

I made her come back and take the shoe she’d brought to school with her lunch in it to the kitchen as well.

I couldn’t believe the audacity I had to proceed with this little show here in the backyard, but I’d already laid my cards on the table, and I resolved to make her whack off both of her brothers in front of Mr. Goldman, if he dared stay and watch.

“What’s this about a milk carton or spitting in with her milk?” he asked very curiously.

“Oh, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” I said.

“Try me! I can be very gullible when I want to be,” he joked.

I laughed out loud at that one.

I told him that sperm has certain hormones that calm the female mind.

“So maybe that’s my wife’s problem,” Mort joked that she wasn’t getting enough sperm. I wanted to tell him he should probably try putting it in her instead of wasting it on the ground, but I assumed he’d probably already tried that.

“It also is also very good for the skin, hair, and has a lot of nutritional value, and since my sons are chronic masturbators…” I said.

“Hey, we should all be so lucky to be chronic masturbators.” He was smiling on the other side of the fence, based on his tone, and I think still jerking-off slowly.

“Well, because they are, it didn’t make sense for it to go to waste, so we collect it in our almond milk and drink a few glasses each day,” I admitted truthfully to him.

“The thing I like best about masturbation is that it’s sex with a person you actually love,” he chuckled before asking skeptically, “They jerk off in the carton every single time?”

I felt like I was laying my final piece of emotional Jenga as I stretched the truth just to shock him. I told him, “I try, but sometimes when they go to school or out of the house they’ll jerk off and not tell me, or I’ll find I have no place to put the semen until we get home. I’d rather they not waste it, and that’s part of why I’d rather them get hand-jobs and enjoy it, instead of doing it themselves and discarding it - waste not, want not.”

There was a long pause. I assumed he’d ran away because I no longer heard him furiously fapping on the other side. I shrugged that it had been fun while it lasted, and assumed he’d probably be back as a peeping Tom, but he would probably not be bold enough to talk to me while he was doing it.

In a strange way, I considered it a victory that I’d kept my cool while knowing his pervy intentions and managed to run him off without verbal confrontation just by playing along. I remember when in the 80’s people use to prank-call the house and someone on the other end would talk dirty. If you talk dirty back they usually don’t know what to do and hang up. I felt I’d just done the modern equivalent of that, and Mr. Goldman had just hung up his phone on me.

Donny, Scotty, and Janie emerged from the house with their sister with big smiles on their faces. Donny and Scotty were quite ready for Taylor to deliver pleasure to them, but I didn’t want Janie watching. Taylor was carrying the almond milk carton with both hands like it was the Holy Grail and sacred.

“Oh, no.” I told Janie that she needed to go back inside until this punishment was over.

“You said no more punishments in private!” she whined.

“This isn’t so much a punishment as it is a ...” I wasn’t quite sure how to explain what was about to happen to Janie, so I decided to stop talking entirely before I made the situation worse trying to over-explain it to her.

I assumed Mr. Goldman wasn’t listening now, and since Janie had been drinking the almond milk without concern I decided it may actually be best if she saw how we made it. She may actually change her mind about it

“If you’re going to be out here when she gets punished, then you should know this is what they’ve been putting in the almond milk every morning. You may not want to keep drinking after you see,” I said.

“I wanna see!” Janie was curious and the others seemed fine with her watching.

I dismissed her immediately. I should have put a stop to this right then and sent them all out, but I asked her why instead. “You just complained the other day a boy in your class drew a penis and called it an elephant!”

“I know,” she agreed, with an expression that suggested that was exactly why she was curious. “Boys are always trying to show me their you-know-what or get me to touch it at school. I guess if I actually see one then I’ll at least know what it is. If Donny and Scotty don’t want me to see, though, I can ask a boy at school,” she said reluctantly.

She actually made a fantastic point that I hadn’t considered. She’s a very pretty girl who could ask any boy – or even a man Mr. Goldman’s age – and they would happily oblige by showing their dicks to her, and quite a bit more. If she got her curiosity sated here, it would be under my supervision and she wouldn’t be under any pressure to do more.

“I can’t really argue that,” I said, and my daughter’s face lit up with excitement. She hadn’t expected me to be understanding of her point, and the fact I acknowledged it made her feel special. “I guess it depends on Donny and Scotty – are you okay with her staying and watching?”

“As long as our dongs don’t touch, I’m fine with getting a hand-job in front of whoever,” Scotty shrugged. He was the resident extrovert, though, and I think he’d have been fine walking around the house buck-naked just like his sister as well. I definitely don’t think it would have felt humiliating to him, though – more like ‘Finally! I can walk around with my junk hanging out.’

“Can’t we rub one out one at a time? Like take turns?” Donny seemed uncomfortable with being watched by Scotty and Janie while he got off.

“She has two hands and she is going to whack off two peters at once while I spank her,” I insisted, and said if he didn’t want to participate, he is free to go back inside. “If Janie watching is going to be an issue, then you can do it in private and contribute to the milk carton or not at all. The only person who has to be on display is Fart Face.”

Donny was on the fence about it. I was actually proud he was conflicted about whipping his cock out in front of his sister.

“Oh my god,” Janie put her hands on her hips and told him not to be a big baby. Scotty called him a chicken and squawked like a bird.

I told them to cut it out and said that I don’t want any peer pressure.

“It’s fine, I’m sorry,” Janie apologized to her brother. “You can keep your you-know-what in your pants. I don’t like when boys pressure me to lift my shirt and show my boobies at school either,” she nodded with understanding.

I wanted to ask her what she DID when that happened – it was the first I was hearing of her being asked to show her boobs. I knew about flip-up-Fridays at her school and that girls with dresses were essentially inviting boys to flip them up, and she never wore dresses or skirts on Friday, so I trusted she told them ‘no’ since she said she didn’t like it.

“It’s not like girls pressure me to whip it out at school,” he said as he kicked the dirt underneath his sneaker.

“Yeah, all I’d have to do is tell a boy to pull it out and he wouldn’t hesitate to show me,” Janie smiled in agreement.

“When you put it like that…” Donny nodded that he was fine with doing it now. “You can see one any time you like and you know what they look like.”

Donny started to unbuckle his pants while his brother shouted in a funny Mexican accent, “Alright! JOOO CAN DOOOO EEEHT!”

It was some inside joke between the two of them I’d heard before, from a movie, because Donny laughed at it.

“Your sister is going to do full service.” I stopped Donny from unbuckling and told him that his sister would do everything from start to finish. “You just stand there and think dirty thoughts – that’s your only job.”

“Can do,” Donny smiled. I was pretty sure dirty thoughts were running through Donny and Scotty’s mind 24/7 anyway, like most American teenagers.

I was still reluctant about going through with this, but there was really no backing down now. “Alright, if you see what they put in the milk, maybe you’ll stop drinking it?” I asked Janie sweetly.

“Maybe I’ll just drink more of it,” my goofy youngest smirked. “I know it comes out of their you-know-wheres, but yeah, I guess I want to see how their stuff comes out the same place they pee.”

“Fine, we’re all in agreement then, but there are some ground rules,” I told them. I said that it wasn’t a ‘you-know-where’ and that it wasn’t ’stuff‘. “When we’re doing hand-jobs it’s not a penis. Guys don’t like it when you call their cock a penis. It makes them feel small. If you can’t feel comfortable just SAYING the word ‘cock’, then you don’t need to be out here looking at one getting jerked off,” I explained – that made a lot of sense to me as a rule of thumb.

“What do we call the stuff, then?” Janie scrunched her nose with disgust, but a smile spread across her freckled nose.

“Jizz or cum,” Scotty answered for me, and then added, “Right, Mom?”

I would have just called it cum, but that was fine with me and I told him so.

“What about spunk?” Donny asked.

“Yes, yes, I suppose that just about any word besides stuff or semen is fine.”

“Why is it important what we call it?” Janie asked.

“Guys need to be in the mood to spunk, Princess Janie,” Taylor answered the question. “You have to make it feel dirty and naughty and not like they’re at the doctor’s office doing something clinical or they can’t get it up,” she explained.

“Does it have to be dirty?” she scrunched her nose at the idea.

“It’s only dirty if someone’s doing it right,” Mr. Goldman commented. I glared at him to let me explain this to my daughter – although that was a pretty quick-witted observation.

“Yes, it has to be dirty because that’s the way men get off.” I explained that the reason boys are always asking her to show her boobs at school, or trying to get them to touch their penis, is they are trying to get her to do something dirty for them.

“Oh, I know!” Janie agreed happily, like she was well past the birds and bees talk and I was being silly for even explaining myself. “It’s not penis, by the way, it’s a cock,” she corrected me.

I laughed hard at that.

“What does getting it up mean?” Janie asked.

“That you have to see to understand,” I explained. Adding that the cock extended to its full size was the only time that cum would come out of it, and to do that we had to get the boys pants off.

I had practiced a special technique of pulling out a dick to suck it with my mouth, but never had a special one for hand-jobs. I assumed I could modify it and just stop at the point his cock came out. I was definitely not ready to teach Blowjob Etiquette 101, but I could use some of the lessons in cock-handling and worship I had learned.

I instructed Taylor that she needed to squat before Donny and use her teeth to unzip his pants, and then unbuckle and unsnap him with her mouth and take his pants down slowly.

“Why does he get to go first?!” Scotty was flabbergasted that he had to wait.

“Older brother privilege, scro!” Donny lorded it over his brother that he was chosen first.

“Actually, he was closest to me; but next time then she can do you first,” I said.

“So you’re saying this is going to happen more frequently, and not just once?” Scotty seized upon the last thing I said enthusiastically as indication this would continue.

“If no one has a problem with it, then I don’t see a problem with doing it this way,” I told him. I really did see a dozen reasons this was beyond naughty, but I’d already set it up and there was really no putting it back into the bag now.

Taylor was able to get Donny’s zipper down, but she had trouble getting her teeth around the buckle and undoing it.

“My braces would totally get caught in the zipper!” Janie goofed on her brother. I still wasn’t sure about her out here, and I told her that if seeing her brothers’ dicks was going to bother her, then she should go up to her room.

“I see Taylor’s you-know-where and call it an asshole and a cunt now, so I think I’ll be fine seeing their you-know-what and calling it a ding-dong, Mom,” Janie said bravely.

I nodded in agreement, but became frustrated with Taylor’s inability to get her brother unbuckled.

I pushed her to the side and made her watch me. I squatted in front of him and expertly using only teeth and a long tongue opened his belt, unsnapped his corduroy pants and then guided them down by nuzzling his leg with my face in a single smooth motion that took less than thirty seconds.

“Jesus fucking Christ, how did you learn to do that?” Donny was already starting to get hard.

“I trust you can do his underwear? Or do I need to show you on that as well?” I asked my daughter.

The doorbell rang and Sandor started barking.

“Oh great!” Scotty shouted in frustration that this was another delay to his long overdue hand-job. “I actually skipped popping a nut at lunch just so that I would have a big reserve today!” he bragged.

I was supposed to send Taylor to answer the door, but I decided that I would go and get rid of whoever it was. I told them to wait for me and I’d be back in a minute.

Sandor was hopping around and jumping, so I sent him to his crate and then looked out the peep hole to see who it was. Standing at the door was an impatient Mr. Goldman.

I opened the door a crack and said that I thought we may have freaked him out finally and that he’d left. I smiled that I had obviously reached emotional Jenga and toppled the stack by piling on so much outrageous stuff that he finally ran off.

“No, no,” he said, adding that he had to put on some clothes and make sure his wife was gone first. “I felt it was only neighborly of me to come over after you mentioned the trouble you were having getting enough semen, and offer to contribute.” He nervously pushed his glasses back against his nose.

“You have an uncanny resemblance to Woody Allen,” I observed.

“So I’ve been told,” he said, adding, “My mother tried to have it corrected at birth, but I think that may have only made it worse.”

I wasn’t sure if he was joking or not.

I thanked him and asked if he was expecting a hand-job.

“I don’t think anyone is EXPECTING a hand-job,” he answered nervously. “I mean, it would be nice, but they don’t normally land in your lap. I suppose they do start there, though.”

I led the nervous man to the backyard and told him that I was asking if he expected Taylor to provide him with a hand-job or he was just going to bring over his semen in a cup. “Either way I appreciate it, actually. I wanted to ask earlier, but I thought you may think I was a total freak,” I said truthfully.

“A freak?” He pretended that nothing could be further from the truth and joked, “You’re spanking your daughter while she gives hand-jobs into a milk carton? I don’t see how that isn’t perfectly normal.”

Once we came to the sliding glass door I could already see that Scotty and Donny’s pants were around their ankles and their dicks were hard. They were both touching themselves and half-covering it. Taylor was just standing there smiling, and Janie looked embarrassed but was staring at her brothers’ dongs – most notably Donny’s massive dick.

“No touching your own cock,” I said. I told them that if Taylor is going to learn from this exercise she can’t have them doing their own fluffing.

“She’s learning how to give better hand-jobs?” Mort asked the question like he’d be delighted if the answer is yes.

“No.” I explained that she’s learning how to give pleasure without expecting or getting anything in exchange. She has to thank them and do what it takes to get them off without their help or doing anything for her.

“Sounds like the perfect woman,” Mort approved wholeheartedly without questioning why this lesson was important.

“It’s so big!” Janie pointed to Donny’s cock hanging a full 12 inches – and it wasn’t even fully hard.

“Oy Gavalt!” Mr Goldman said as he saw Donny’s cock for the first time and took notice, joking, “I think when you live in Schenectady you have to register one that big as farm equipment!”

“You’re making us look bad!” Scotty even gave his brother a compliment on his cock size. Donny was basking in the admiration he was receiving, but trying to seem modest about it.

“Is Daddy’s that big?” Janie asked.

I wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so I told her that was none of her business.

She looked disappointed – but I wasn’t going to describe her father’s cock in front of Mr. Goldman. I know I’d already crossed several lines today; I just wasn’t ready for one more.

“What about my biological father?” Donny asked with a pleased look on his face – he was enjoying all the accolades for winning the genetic lottery on penis size.

“It could be,” I said awkwardly – it definitely was, and that’s also where Donny got his ungainly height and awkward hand-eye coordination. He didn’t win in those areas, but Don sure did have a mighty cock that could keep going and going. Back when I was with him I was frightened of it – I didn’t know how to handle it at all.

Mr. Goldman asked if I would be comfortable with Janie seeing him with HIS pants down.

The truth is I would be very uncomfortable; but she was already looking at Donny and Scotty’s cocks and I didn’t see how I could really say that I would, after I invited him outside for a hand-job.

“I didn’t expect you to come over and offer, but I don’t suppose you have anything between your legs that much different than what they have,” I said through gritted teeth that probably suggested I was still uncomfortable. “She’s going to satiate her curiosity seeing her brothers’ cocks so that she isn’t so interested in seeing ones at school; so in a way, you’re helping her. I can’t control what she does with one at school, but I can here,” I said.

“Well, anything to help satisfy her curiosity,” Mort agreed eagerly. He was exactly the reason I thought this was a good idea. A man like him may have suggested she learn a lot more if the two of them were alone. I could at least keep an eye on him in the backyard.

“I wish Jewish mothers were as progressive in their thinking as you. They want the woman to wait until her wedding night to learn what a zayin looks like?” He joked, “If they do it sooner, they could get over their disappointment long before the wedding night!”

“Should I unzip his pants as well, Mistress?” Taylor asked in a polite and considerate manner – I still had not gotten used to that.

“No, I was thinking you could milk his cock through his clothes,” I said sarcastically and pointed to the ground. She was actually correct in asking permission, but I was still mad at her for being late and the fact that she didn’t have the same respectful fear of my authority as she did when she left for school.

It was like the discipline I had taught and instilled in her eroded just a little after she was out of my sight for 8 hours. It didn’t completely disappear, but like a sharp blade that had dulled its edge a little, no longer cut as precisely.

“Oh wow, now this is neighborly.” Mort was more than pleased when my daughter squatted before him and began trying to unzip his pants with her teeth. It took her some effort but she was able to get his pants down revealing a pair of panties – the same yellow panties she’d had on the night before.

“I’m glad to see you put my panties to use, Sir,” Taylor told him, while trying very hard to stifle her laughter, “since I no longer wear them.”

I can’t say that Donny, Scotty, Janie, or even I were as successful at holding back our tittering giggles.

“I didn’t really think this through,” Mort said with a shrug, and accepted the embarrassing laughter. Taylor used her teeth to slide his panties down around his ankles and reveal what seemed to be the smallest cock I had ever seen.

Mort’s cock couldn’t have been more than an inch long.

“I am used to this reaction when people see my zayin,” he said with a bit of his self-deprecating humor. “It looks a little smaller next to the Tyrannosaur Rex swinging to my left.”

“Well, when it gets hard I’m sure it will seem much larger.” I tried to be generously understanding.

“I AM hard!” he admitted, and I felt absolutely horrible about hurting his feelings.

“I am so sorry!” I apologized quickly.

“Are you apologizing for what you said, or because I was born with a below-average schlong?” He brushed off my comment with a shrug. “Either way, I’m usually the one saying they’re sorry, so it’s a welcome change.”

“Let’s stop comparing dick sizes and get on with this,” Scotty said, uncomfortably scanning the fence line for peeping toms.

“You’re right,” I agreed, and assured him that I didn’t think anyone was watching.

“There used to be some boys who were always snooping around the fences, but ever since a few months ago they haven’t been around,” Mr. Goldman said. He thought that they were Mrs. Waxerman’s nephews.

“I’m sure if they were her nephews she kept them on a tight leash and wouldn’t approve of them peeping.” I saw Mr. Goldman looked a little hurt by comment and I said, “Not that I mind you peeping. It is your fence, after all, and you’re welcome to look through it any time you like.”

He smiled at me.

I instructed Taylor to stop slouching and stand up straight, then push her tits out and bend over with her legs apart.

“Why should she stand up straight if she’s going to just bend over?” Janie asked with a confused look.

“Good question.” I answered Janie by saying that Taylor needed to take a deep breath and get the right posture and then fully stretch into the punishment position. I popped Taylor’s bare ass with my hand and said that she’d been lazy and hadn’t been standing correctly while I was talking, and I’d need to correct that.

“You need daily corrections until it’s just natural for you to stand up straight. You’re always being watched and supervised now, so don’t think I didn’t notice you leaning on one hip,” I warned Taylor, and made her pull her ass-cheeks apart and show me Antioch.

“You don’t make your other daughter stand up straight, or your sons.” Mr. Goldman asked me to explain why it was important for Taylor to do that if they weren’t held to the same standard.

“That’s another great question,” I said, explaining that he hadn’t heard my big speech yet but that I’d need to give it to him one day when we have more time. “Fart Face asked to be disciplined and kept in line because she was rude, lazy, and snotty to everyone,” I explained.

“Gosh, you’re telling me! She would kvetch every time I came over to drop off mail,” he complained.

In fairness, I was pretty sure Mr. Goldman was also staring at her tits and probably being creepy back then as well. I agreed with him, though, and said that because she’s being held to that high standard, “…we have to make extra certain she is gracious and cannot hide her true nature and who she really is,” I said.

“Well, I can really see exactly what she had for lunch and into her head from here.” Mr. Goldman was staring directly up her ass and into her pink pussy lips from where he stood with his panties around his ankles.

“I’m so sorry for making fun of you and being a bitch. I won’t do that ever again, Sir. I’ll answer the door politely, thank you and curtsy, for as long as I’m under discipline,” Taylor promised.

“How long are you going to be under discipline, so I know when to expect you to bite my head off again?” Mort was joking and still staring up her ass.

“I’ll be under discipline until I prove that I won’t bite your head off and will be gracious and considerate to anyone who visits our home, Sir,” she said with a bit of a wintry smile. It sounded like this commitment she’d made was starting to sink in.

“Sooo, a pretty long time then.” Mort smiled.

“Pretty much,” Scotty, Donny, and Janie all agreed with a smirk. I was actually glad they could accept their sister’s choice with a sense of humor; and it seemed to put Taylor in her place when they all agreed it would take a lot to deprogram her natural tendencies to be a bitch.

“Do you mind being held to these standards, or are they impossible for you to achieve?” I asked Taylor.

“No, Ma’am, I don’t mind being held to these standards, and they’re hardly impossible. They would be if I were expected to do it without discipline, though. I need the constant reminder of my place, and I’m thankful to get it,” she answered while bending over.

I said that since Mr. Goldman was a guest he could go first, and since Scotty had to wait to be undressed and didn’t receive a hand-job yesterday he could too. I told them to stand in front of her on either side of her while she bent over at cock level.

“That leaves two hands for milking Donny, and I think he’ll need it,” Mr. Goldman said as he stepped up to Taylor’s side and touched himself.

Scotty warned him no fluffing. “She needs to learn to do this without any help from you. You aren’t allowed to touch yourself or help.”

“Sensible practice.” Mr. Goldman put up no argument, adding that he wished more Jewish mothers had taught these skills to their daughters, “I think we’d have far less divorce.”

“I like the term ‘milking’,” I said, pronouncing that from now on, just like the rule on not calling it a ‘you-know-what’ or a ‘penis’, that hand-jobs would be referred to as ‘milking’. That made sense to me, since it was going straight into our milk anyway. I told Taylor to spit in her hands and warm them up first and then start stroking them.

“So we can’t say ‘jerk off’ or ‘play with ourselves’?” Scotty asked nervously, looking at his sister.

“Yeah.” Donny was fighting the urge not to touch himself and play with it while watching his sister bent over. “Bust a nut, tickle the dickle, jerk the muffin, pull the pud, bang the beef, choke the chicken…,” he listed off as many as a half-a-dozen more terms for what appeared to be tied with video games for his greatest passion.

“Fine.” I compromised and said that when his sister does it for them, it’s ‘milking’, but they could call it anything they wanted. I had to prompt her to actually reach out with her hands and take the cocks while she bent over.

Scotty winced the moment his sister started touching his dick. It was already hard and I could see him fight the urge not to play with it himself, the way someone might if they had never had a woman touch their cock.

“Is this the first time a girl has touched your cock?” Donny joked with his brother.

“Let him concentrate please.” I told the two of them to knock off bagging each other until this was done. “You can goof on each other all you please, but we’ll be here all day playing with your dicks if you keep making fun of each other.”

“That would be bad because?” Mort asked with a wry grin.

I could see Taylor giving him a lemony smile like she wanted to say “Hardee har har” to him.

I reminded her what I’d taught her the night before: that she was here for his pleasure and not her own, and she should look enthusiastic, lick her lips, and be alluring. “You want to milk him, not churn butter,” I told her, instructing her to be more fluid in the way she touched them.

“It’s hard bent over like this, Ma’am,” Taylor said defensively. She’d been calling me ‘Ma’am’ a lot around Mr. Goldman. I wondered if it embarrassed her, or she was just being lazy.

“You expect sympathy?” I lined up a swat to her ass and hit her across the backside with the switch. It made a wicked whistling sound as it landed, but I doubted it caused her much actual pain.

“No, Mistress,” Taylor’s shoulders arced upwards the moment she was struck by the birch switch, and I noticed a change in her tone for the better as well. “I expect you’ll give me twenty five swats while I milk our guest and my brother so that I can learn from today’s lesson, and that was the first one! Thank you!”

“So you’re her MISTRESS?” Mort asked with interest and a curiously raised eyebrow.

“I’m the Mistress of the house, as my husband is its Master, and we expect Fart Face to respect all of her betters, which is why she doesn’t talk to you on a first-name basis any longer. If she cannot even address you respectfully, then she cannot treat you respectfully!” I said, while watching her pulling and playing with his tiny dick in her hand.

“Well, it’s just that title has certain connotations,” he said without explaining himself, and asked me why I call her ‘Fart Face’ then. “Does that mean you don’t respect her?” he asked.

“No, I don’t respect my daughter for her behavior and shortcomings, but I DO respect her bravery in accepting her punishment and discipline,” I said. I noticed Taylor straighten a little as I said that, and I whipped her a second time across the ass with the switch. She backed into it, so I doubted it had that much impact, although it did make a fantastic noise when it bit into her ass-cheeks. “I call her ‘Fart Face’ because she has lost the use of the name Taylor. We all do, and I’d ask that you do as well to remind her that she’s a house pet. I suppose it’s time she come clean and tell you that isn’t a Halloween costume at all she’s been wearing,” I said.

“You’re kidding. That isn’t her real costume?” Mort sounded sarcastic.

“Two, thank you, Ma’am,” Taylor acknowledged my switch and apologized to him. “I’m so sorry for that. I was embarrassed to tell you that I’m the house pet, and afraid of your reaction. I’m being trained like a house pet.”

I switched her again. This time I had a little better angle and left a nice red mark as I swatted her ass. I could see her clench her teeth, so I know I got a little skin on that one.

“You were afraid of my reaction? That’s the first time I’ve ever heard anyone concerned about what I may think about them. Usually it’s the other way around,” Mort chuckled.

“Three, thank you Ma’am.” She clarified, “I’m ever so sorry, it isn’t quite like that. I thought you liked to stare at my tits and my friends when they would come by, Sir, and I apologize because I enjoyed putting you down. I thought if you knew I was a house pet and that I wasn’t allowed to hide myself from you when you come over, that you would gloat. I guess I kind of preferred to make you miserable and be stingy and miserly with my body. It’s one of the reasons I’m being trained naked like this, Sir,” she admitted.

I thought he wasn’t going to reply as I laid number four on her ass, but he told her that she wouldn’t be the first woman to want to be miserly about showing her body to him and making him miserable. “You could compare notes with my wife,” he laughed.

“Four, thank you, Ma’am!” She said that she appreciated the offer, but she knows enough about being a bitch that she could GIVE notes to his wife. Before he could offer another wisecrack suggesting otherwise, she told him, “You should know that I was also lying about the TV show Naked and Afraid. I’m not going to be on that show, Sir.”

“I love that show because it drops people off in the middle of the wilderness with nothing on and then films them and blurs out the genitals.” He grinned. “Why not just let them wear a nude-colored thong if you’re going to blur it out anyway?” he laughed.

I gave her another taste of the switch and told her to answer him, and to also tell him what she’ll be doing going forward.

“That was five, Ma’am, thank you! These are starting to hurt.” She only sounded like my switches were mildly uncomfortable. She then answered him.

“I suppose they’re naked because even though others can’t see it, the act of being vulnerable and completely naked is very powerful. If I had on even a thong, it would feel like I had a shred of modesty left and that I had something to hide behind,” she told him, before saying, “The other night I threw my clothes up in a tree in a huff because I refused to run home behind Mr. Vulgus’s car. My brother had to make me run home because I was wandering the neighborhood naked. So to teach me a lesson, every night I babysit until Thursday they are going to make me jog from the entrance of our housing development to our street completely naked. Once I get to our street they will walk me like a dog up our street to the door,” she admitted almost as if she were looking forward to the challenge.

I was expecting her to put up more of a fuss –and yet she seemed impressed in a strangely satisfied way that she would be pushed this hard. I don’t want to give you the impression she was being a bubble headed extrovert bimbo because that wasn’t it either. It was like she knew what she had to do and was eager to and accepting that it had to be done.

“Wow, Mr. Vulgus! I just call him Dave,” he smirked. He was enjoying being pulled off. I spanked her a few more times while asking simple questions like what her name was and if she thought this was funny, but it wasn’t until around the 12^th swat that I found the sweet spot.

She was bent at the knee a little more than usual so that her pussy lips were further out and exposed. I struck at a 45-degree angle across her ass, but what ‘did it’ was the birch actually made contact with her pussy, and she yelped and howled.

“Should I stop?” I asked.

“Twelve! NO! MA’AM!” Taylor clearly felt that one, and she squeezed their dicks tightly when she did. “Please continue and give me all twenty-five. If you don’t, I won’t learn my lesson and will repeat my mistakes because it won’t sink in. I cannot be let out of my punishments just because they aren’t comfortable,” she panted.

I told her that just because she was in pain, she shouldn’t cause them pain.

“I actually kind of like it,” Scotty smirked.

“Remember, you’re learning a very advanced lesson. You’re not only giving pleasure without receiving it, you’re actually getting pain while you do. You must think of them and put their needs before your own. Keep looking up at them and smiling; part your lips slightly,” I told her, and she complied. Her legs were shaking nervously as I laid into her again, and she yelped and counted off. I was happy that I’d found a way to actually reach my daughter.

Janie seemed to be afraid for her sister, but the more Taylor smiled and acted enthusiastic, the more she seemed to enjoy watching.

Donny, on the other hand, was not enjoying this at all. He couldn’t touch himself and stood there with his big dick swinging in the breeze – slowly shrinking.

“I’m sorry,” I told him. I didn’t know how long it would take for them to cum, so I said he could pull his pants up or sit down if he liked. “I didn’t expect her to have three volunteers to milk, and she only has the two hands.”

“Can I teabag her?” he asked very casually, almost out of boredom.

“Oh yes, bro!” Scotty offered him a high five for his idea.

My only experience, or knowledge, of that term had to do with conservatives that people called “Teabaggers” because they used to wear tricorne hats with teabags attached to them and march around parks, associating themselves with the Boston Tea Party.

“What exactly is that?” I asked him curiously, while laying a 14^th switch on his sister’s ass – this time not hitting the sweet spot precisely, but still leaving a nice pink mark.

“I can’t believe you’ve never done that,” Donny said, as if I were the most naïve puritanical woman in the world. I wanted to point out not only was last night the first time a girl probably ever touched his dick, but that I was handling a switch like a pro and had taught my daughter how to unbuckle pants using just her mouth – so I knew a thing or two about sex. I decided it may be best not to brag, though.

I got nervous because instead of telling me he walked around to Taylor’s face to show me. I thought he was going to stick his dick in her mouth, and that would definitely be much further than I was willing to let this exercise go.

Taylor looked up at him and offered a silly expression, like someone who was pretending to be grumpy.

“Voila,” he declared, as he lifted his ball sack and dropped it on her forehead, before holding his hands up in the air and shouting triumphantly, “All those times in CS:GO or Halo when I’ve been TB after a double-kill on the enemy, and a third guy takes me down and teabags me. Finally, I get to actually teabag someone and it feels so fucking good! Oh yes!”

Donny was clearly having some kind of moment. His dick grew hard and erect on top of Taylor’s head as he stood right in front of her with his balls on her head.

“If that amuses you, then yes.” I agreed that would be fine.

“Can I teabag her too?” Scotty asked me so enthusiastically that I thought he’d rather do that then get release from a hand job.

“After your sister milks you, yes!” I told him. It felt so surreal, like he was asking to go out to play ball with his friends and I told him after he finished his Brussel sprouts.

It was actually much easier to spank my daughter with Donny standing in front of her holding her in place with his balls. His dick was huge, and it seemed to be winking at me on top of her head.

I had to replace the switch once and continue on. I asked if she minded her brother teabagging her while she was being punished.

“Fifteen, Ma’am.” Taylor was fighting to keep the giggles out of her voice. “Oh my god, no Ma’am, I don’t mind. It’s actually pretty funny. I can’t believe he’s actually teabagging me. I kind of want a picture to show Kimber and Summer, Ma’am.”

“You aren’t supposed to find this amusing!” I gave her another slice across the back this time, and I could hear her hiss. “Only your betters are supposed to find it amusing,” I told her.

“Yes, Ma’am, sorry!” She counted out the next swat and thanked me before apologizing again and saying she only thought Kimber and Summer would find amusement in it as well.

“Can I take a picture, then?” Janie asked enthusiastically. She hadn’t been permitted to do anything but stand there, so I made sure no one else minded and said yes. “I guess it is pretty funny, and those two bitches would probably like it.”

Janie snapped a couple pictures – she liked to take several rapid-fire. I was actually hoping that being so casual about allowing the photos would make Taylor blush or at least concerned with her friends having them – but she seemed not only accepting that they already had some humiliating photos and a few more wouldn’t hurt – but like she was pleased to have proof she had undergone this much discipline.

I remembered after I said it was okay that Tom had explicitly forbidden pictures – but I knew Janie took thousands of photos and they never went anywhere on her phone. She could be a bit of a narcissist when it came to snapping selfies of herself and she could fill up her phone with them in minutes only to delete them all and snap more.

I would have to remember to get the photos off Janie’s phone before she actually did send them to anyone. I didn’t want to seem wishy washy and Taylor may actually cave if she thought I’d really show them to anyone – I didn’t want to play my hand too soon on that. I was hoping I could tease her a bit and coax her into admitting she didn’t want anything humiliating floating around “The cloud”.

Donny informed us that a real teabag was where a man pulled his balls over a woman’s eyes.

I have to admit I thought this might be particularly hilarious to watch, and we were all goofing around so I told Taylor to lay on her back and get into the Bunny Rabbit position. “You will learn how to serve tea!” I ordered playfully.

“Oh my god, you are the coolest fucking mom ever.” Donny knew exactly what I was doing, and just as soon as Taylor’s back hit the concrete of our patio he had stepped out of his pants and was dipping low over her eyes in a squat position to hold his balls on her eyelids.

She held her legs up and over her head. I was a little envious at how limber she was. She very politely asked if I could still spank her ass in this position because she had nine more to go.

“Who says they all have to be on your ass?” I said as I brought down the next one on her exposed pussy lips. Her pussy is very tight and most of the pink is hard to see when she’s standing straight up, but in this position there was just enough parting to see pink.

I heard her howl while she reached for the two dicks she was supposed to jerking. Scotty and Mr. Goldman had to kneel down, but they were both hard and looked ready to cum anytime soon.

Janie started snapping more pictures and I continued with my affirmations.

On the next swat Donny urged the guys to hurry up and cum. He wanted to get in there before we finished.

“Can I ask why the butt-plug? You have it in every time I see you – do you ever take it out?” Mr. Goldman asked. He was clearly enjoying this, but I wanted him to focus on orgasming and let me handle the questions. I whipped my daughter and told her to answer ANY of their questions like they are my own.

“Nineteen, Ma’am, thank you!” She acknowledged me first and then told him, “Thank you for asking about my butt-plug, Sir. As you can see it’s not a tail. That wasn’t the truth. His name is Antioch, and I’m being taught what a pain in the ass I am by being constantly reminded with a pain in my own ass. I call him Antioch because I must think of the Butt-Plug like a person and learn to respect it like I would a person. I’m never permitted to take Antioch out myself – only someone else can do it. My Mistress left him out last night for four hours, and I felt so vulnerable and naked with my asshole sucking wind. I was so appreciative when Mistress allowed me to sit on him and force him back into my asshole. I didn’t think I would be, but I was thankful for that lesson,” she said.

I was so proud of her for saying that – and happy if it’s true. I didn’t think I’d actually taught her that lesson, but I was happy if she reached that conclusion through my actions towards her. I was just angry with her that night and took out her plug to make her suffer when she had to put it back in; but if it was an educational opportunity, then so much the better.

Tom would call that an accidental learning opportunity – where a mistake or unintentional consequence turns into one of the biggest lessons of your life.

“Oy Babka!” Mort exclaimed and shot his load. A small stream of thin, white fluid pumped out of his tiny dick and Taylor quickly opened her hand to receive the puddle for him as he pumped furiously and with strain showing on his face.

Once exhausted he said how hot that was. “In twenty seven years of marriage, not one time has my Muriel let me even so much as lick her Tuchus. I normally like fast and furious, and you were pumping me slow but when you said what you said…” he had a grateful expression on his face as he said, “it just blew my mind and I blew my load. I can’t even tell you how much! Oh thank you!”

My daughter normally talked like an insipid, thoughtless, and annoying bitch, but when she was forced to slow down and talk submissively she had a very sexy voice. I think the combination of that and her honest admission of her feelings about her asshole training had pushed him over the edge. Now I take back my earlier concerns about him asking too many questions and not getting himself off.

“That just leaves you, Bro!” Donny said as he slid his hard cock off his sister’s head.

“Janie, can you hold up the milk carton so Fart Face can pour Mr. Goldman’s cum into it?” I asked my youngest to stop taking pictures for a moment with her phone and she was delighted to have yet another job.

I didn’t really want to drink Mr. Goldman’s cum in my milk – but cum was cum and waste not want not I told myself. I found it best not to even think about who was contributing to my milk at all.

“Yeah, and get a washcloth so that she can wipe off her hand before she touches my dick with another man’s spooge!” Donny complained.

I hadn’t thought about that possibility when I started this exercise. Everything in my training had told me never wipe off with a towel what you can lick up when it came to a man’s cum.

“EVERYTHING you milk is going into the almond milk carton; waste not, want not,” I reminded them.

Once the little spoonful of Goldman’s cream dripped into the milk carton there was still some white film on her hand. Janie wasted no time licking her sister’s hand, and before I could stop her had cleaned her off.

“Nuh-Ass-Tea!” Scotty shouted his condemnation of Janie’s licking her sister clean.

“Sick!” Donny lamented.

“What? I like the taste, and Mom said not to waste it. I was going to drink it anyway, and it goes to the same place.” Janie defended her actions while holding her tummy and looking completely unapologetic about quickly licking her sister’s hands.

“No, I meant ‘sick’ like that was fucking awesome,” Donny explained, and Scotty agreed that had been his sentiment as well.

“This has been the single greatest day of my entire pathetic, boring, life,” Mr. Goldman said without a trace of irony or regret.