CHAPTER FIFTY THREE
*Fumbling Across the Fetish Line*

Reader’s Note: These are EXCERPTS from Joanne Swift’s Journal for October 12^th (Wednesday).

Joanne has just read texts from her family, and instead of continuing to read them has raced inside to find out what has Donny so concerned.

I didn’t care about getting wet as I raced out of my Prius up the driveway. I didn’t care about the fact that freshly delivered spunk was rolling my down my thighs, either. I was focused on whatever Donny had called ‘a problem’ in a text that read as follows:

MOM, DON’T BE ANGRY. I TRIED TO TALK REASON TO JANIE BUT SHE WOULDN’T LISTEN SO JUST DON’T BE MAD. ILL EXPLAIN WHEN YOU GET HOME. WHERE ARE YOU?

I suppose it goes without saying if you have a teenage son and the first part of his text begins with a request not to be mad – you are probably going to be upset. It’s kind of like when someone begins a phrase “Not to be racist, but…” there’s a good chance the last part of that sentence is going to end in something completely racist and you already know it.

I was already mad at someone. I was mad at myself for not being home or at least answering my texts, and I was ready to admit that to myself. So I tore open the door like a madwoman and shushed Sandor’s barking.

He was nipping at me excitedly as he always does. He can sense when Tom has recently fucked me, either from the scent of my sex or the warmth in my loins. I pushed him away angrily as I saw the face of my youngest daughter in the living room.

The expression on her beautiful angelic face was a goofy smirk, but it also perfectly encapsulated a self-satisfied “Won’t Mom be proud of what I am doing!” look as she readied herself for my reaction.

She was completely naked except for a tiny pink and purple collar she had fashioned herself. I could see just the wisps of blonde pubic hair starting to come in on her mons. Her ankles were locked into a metal spreader bar, and even though they were shoulder-width apart, there was only the tiniest trace of a pink line as she stood proudly before me with her chest out.

Her nipples were puffy as, due to puberty, they were budding and oversized – as large as the tiny mounds on her chest.

She smiled at me while holding her hands behind her head, and greeted me as her Mistress.

I brushed some of the dripping rain water out of my face “Did he make you stand like this? I thought we discussed this and you were told to put on clothes!”

“I know I’m disobedient, Ma’am but please don’t be angry at Master Donny! He was very fair and I was impotent towards him!” she said with a trace of baby talk in her voice. She has a tendency to use baby talk whenever she’s in trouble as a defense mechanism – it’s adorable, and I have to admit it often works to disarm me.

I heard Mort giggle at her use of the word ‘impotent.’ I didn’t even realize he was standing behind me, staring at my youngest daughter’s nude form. I suspected he’d been peeping at her, and even in clothes I knew he checked out her butt. I had told her months earlier when we first moved in that because she was attractive, she would have to get used to the idea men like to look at her and try not to let it bother her.

It obviously didn’t, because even though her arms weren’t bound behind her, she smiled at him and made no attempt to cover herself.

“I think you mean you were being impudent,” Donny said to her as he ran down the stairs to explain.

“I gave you one job to do, Donny…” I dressed my son down without addressing which word they may or not misuse. “You weren’t supposed to put Janie on a spreader bar like Fart Face! What happened?”

“It’s Unicorn Booty now, Ma’am,” Janie explained with a satisfied look on her face, and in a polite manner added, “…if you please.”

I didn’t comment or even register the new name she selected for herself. It should be noted that my Daughter has had a running joke about her own farts smelling like Unicorns, Rainbows and Cupcakes since she was very little – especially when she let one go inside of the car on a family trip so I wasn’t surprised when she picked that name.

“I tried making her keep her clothes on!” Donny explained quickly that his younger sister basically went into my room, found an extra spreader bar, and then insisted on standing here naked this way. She even renamed herself “Unicorn Booty”.

“You expect me to believe that your sister got it in her head, without being told, to go into my room, find my spreader bar, and applied it to herself without any of your help?” I wasn’t buying it. I lock up our toys very carefully, and Tom expects me to keep them meticulously organized and accounted for.

Donny looked at Janie, and the expression on my daughter’s face told me she just couldn’t be that mature in her thinking. There were a couple theories here on what was going on that began to formulate in my mind.

Simplest theory: Her older brother, in an effort to apply a “one size fits all” solution to his sisters and to impress me with his ability to take charge, had become over-zealous and left his sister like this for me to find. Once he saw that I wasn’t pleased, he was blaming her, and she would take the fall for it or face his wrath.

If this were the case, I’d be taking Donny’s privileges of supervision away for a long time and having a long conversation with them both!

Plausible theory: My naïve youngest daughter had seen Taylor’s punishments as normal after a week, and gullibly agreed to endure them under her brother’s supervision on the basis that she had done something wrong and deserving of punishment.

If this were the case I would probably need to talk to them both for a long time. Taylor had pushed things so far that we had run out of other approaches to address them, and this all kind of happened. The normal day-to-day kinds of things that Janie may do wrong wouldn’t warrant this sort of training – talking out of turn in class or forgetting to turn her homework in on time may have been the biggest problems I knew about with her.

Donny’s theory: I list it as a theory because, even though he was saying it, I still didn’t believe it. After I left, he told Janie to do her homework and wait for me to get home. She raided my bedroom, went straight for the bondage gear, then locked herself in the anklets and then waited for me to get home.

“You expect me to believe that she did that?” I asked him to confirm this story as I paraphrased it back to him and asked what he was doing while she did that.

“Well, no, I held her down and spanked her when she first started!” Donny insisted. His eyes were wide as if he couldn’t believe HE was in trouble for any of this.

“You spanked your sister BECAUSE she wanted discipline?” I found that impossible to believe.

“Why don’t you ask HER?” Donny motioned towards his sister standing in the living room without a trace of clothing.

“She loves you.” I shrugged that she would say and do anything to protect her older brother at this stage. “I really don’t know what to believe, but if I ask her now as she stands here, I would think Janie is simply protecting you from getting into trouble.”

“I beg your pardon, Ma’am,” Janie interrupted politely. “It’s Unicorn Booty now, if you please.”

She imitated a trace of a polite English accent, the kind from a character in Harry Potter, or Oliver Twist who’s asking for a bit more porridge from the overbearing Headmaster.

“Stop talking like that. And why are you calling yourself ‘Unicorn Booty,’ anyway?” I asked her.

“I’m sorry if my accent offends you, and I am called that because of my glorious tail, Mistress.”

It was at that point I looked behind my daughter at her glowing pink ass cheeks. She had a perfect bubble butt – tight and high, without a trace of imperfection. Right in the middle of that perfect ass was a long handmade tail that was constructed from a plastic party favor and had rainbow colored streamers hanging from it like a horse’s tail.

“What is in your ass, Janie?” I warned her that I wasn’t calling her ‘Unicorn Booty’ and asked her to show it to me with as much seriousness in my voice as I could muster.

“As you wish, Ma’am.” Janie’s hands were never bound behind her head, and she reached between her ass cheeks and pulled it out.

She had used a kazoo as the base of the tail, attached to the party favor, and it was glued to the rubber base of a Ring Pop. A ring pop is a wearable plastic ring with a large hard candy "jewel." They come in assortment of flavors — this one was cherry.

“Why did you glue that tail to the ring pop?” I asked in shock.

She didn’t hesitate or show even a trace of embarrassment as she explained, “To do this,” and inserted the candy end of the plug into her mouth. She spoke through it to explain that since Taylor normally cleans Strawberry Sprinkles with HER mouth, she may as well make it taste sweet.

“The idea is it’s supposed to taste like ass!” Donny explained to her.

“It does, Sir.” Janie’s eyes narrowed at him as if disturbed by his comment, as she then explained sweetly, “A cherry rainbow ass!” She smiled impishly and shook her ass.

I knew my youngest daughter wasn’t all sugar, cinnamon and puppy dog tails. She has a tomboy side and likes to play in the mud and run around outside. She also has a mischievous side, but nothing as dark as her older sister – it’s always cute little practical jokes in response to her older siblings.

This was an entirely different side of her that seemed to revel in her situation as she sucked mightily on the ring pop.

“She insisted I spank her, Mom!” Donny exclaimed. “She said that if I could spank as well as Dad or you could, then she’d behave, but if I kept spanking her lightly she would continue to misbehave. She begged me to spank her harder!”

Janie nodded with an indulgent smile, sucking on her ring pop without a trace of remorse as she agreed to what her brother had said.

“This is a phase,” I told the two of them. I had decided this was definitely the plausible theory where Janie had misunderstood her sister’s punishment and either glamorized it or thought it was a key to getting attention. She certainly didn’t belong engaging in this activity like she was. “She picks a new thing to be into every week. Her room is filled with horse posters, musical instruments, yarn, crafts, art supplies; every week it’s something new. This is something she doesn’t understand, and she was giving it a try. I want you to unlock your sister’s ankles and let her get dressed. We have school tomorrow! You both need to get to your rooms.” I was no longer mad at Donny – in fact, I was completely calm.

“I don’t have a room any longer, Ma’am,” Janie explained politely.

Before I could say “of course you do,” Donny explained that she’d brought everything down one at a time and threw it in the garbage for the morning pickup. I’d run inside, because of the rain and my alarm over his texts, without noticing. I didn’t need to go upstairs to verify, because the look on Janie’s face told me she was quite serious.

“I carried each thing out and said goodbye to material items I no longer want to covet.” She told me that she’d be happy living downstairs until such time as she deserved privacy and her own room again.

“A lot of those things cost a lot of money!” I wasn’t sure if I should be angry at her or myself for having taught the same lesson to Taylor in front of her and expecting Janie to walk away still coveting all the material items in her room.

“If they do, then you can put me to work mowing grass, cleaning houses or getting a job to pay you for them, Mistress. I want very much to earn my keep around here and be taught to behave. It may not do any good to defend my brother, because you know I’m a dishonest liar who would protect him, but this was all my decision, and my desire is to learn discipline and submission.”

It didn’t help to make those words seem any less erotic that at the moment she said these words the cream from a dozen men was slowly gliding down my leg, and my dog was sniffing around the bottom of my smock in the hope of getting a taste. I pushed Sandor away and tried to clear my mind.

The fact is, she must have heard Taylor say these things. Even though she said them with sincerity, I had to believe she simply didn’t understand what she was asking right now, and I told her so.

“I know quite well, Mistress. I’ve written a letter to you and Master along with admissions of my guilt and requests for correction.” She was still talking with the candy butt-plug in her mouth, but I could understand her well enough.

“Where is it?” I asked quietly and calmly in front of Donny, Mort, and Sandor.

“The only place I have on my person where I could keep it,” she said, and then asked if I would remove it from inside the tail.

I took the plug out of my daughter’s mouth, and rolled up on scented pink Strawberry Shortcakes stationary was a handwritten admission and request for correction. She had perfect penmanship and must have either written it perfectly the first time through, or crafted several versions, because I didn’t see a single spelling error or cross-out in her writing.

The paper smelled like strawberry, and the note was written in an elegant script:

DEAREST MISTRESS AND MASTER,

I submit myself for correction as the imperfect daughter that I am. I have been watching the positive outcome of discipline from my sister over the last week under your discipline and I am envious that she has changed to become so well liked and considerate. Meanwhile, I became disappointed I have not changed in any material way. I understand that you think I am the perfect daughter – blonde, blue-eyed, and angel-faced with cute smile and a happy thought. However, at school I often bully other girls to make myself feel better and get away with it. I often feel the need to talk out and misbehave. These are just a few of my many imperfections.

I shoplift almost every time we are outside. In my room you will find 12 items that do not belong to me. Everything else has been removed by the time you see this letter and placed in the appropriate trash or recycling bin. The 12 items are things I recently stole from stores. I would like you to make me return them with an apology; as well as any corrective measures you feel are appropriate to teach me not to do this anymore. I stole them as an impulse out of boredom – often while smiling right at the security guard, simply because I knew he was a sucker for a sweet face.

I have deleted my brothers saved games for years and pretended that I had no idea how to work the Xbox. I particularly enjoyed deleting their Microsoft Minecraft saves for worlds that they spent weeks working on collaboratively, in part because they thought my addition of cute squirrels and ponies was not welcome. I would like to apologize to them and it would be appropriate if you corrected my behavior in front of them so that I can demonstrate my sincere apologies for my behavior.

I have at times told people I was adopted because I didn’t want to be associated with you or because I felt I was simply too pretty to be a part of this family. I have often pretended to be a distant relative of Taylor Swift, the singer, because friends tell me that I look like her and have been envious that my sister’s name is Taylor. It was me who came up with the name “Fart Face” for her to take that name away, due to my jealousy and not so much to teach her a lesson in humility as was intended.

I have been the “Queen of Flip Up Friday’s” at my school without informing you. I have pretended that I was a snob and prudish at home and complained that boys were doing it and called them disgusting. It is a regular tradition on Friday’s at my Middle School that boys will flip up any girl’s skirt and run off. As a girl, if you don’t want to participate simply wear jeans and most girls wear panties.

I have worn jeans to school on Fridays since the year began, but after the first week of school have been sneaking my sister’s skimpy skirts to school for Fridays. I have changed into them and removed my panties and then teased boys into trying to ‘flip up my skirt’.

Once they do, I then complain and get them in trouble with the teachers at school. I don’t know why I enjoy doing that – I have even cost a school Janitor his job when it was me who offered him a free look; and then, when he took the bait and actually looked, I pretended he had tricked me into doing it.

I was able to keep you from finding out I engaged in these behaviors at school by insisting it remain confidential to protect my privacy, but in truth I knew I was being a bitch and I didn’t care. The school seemed all too happy to oblige my privacy to keep this out of the news. I knew it was wrong and yet I enjoyed the power I had.

I have also been lying regularly at home about doing chores, especially walking the dog. I will pretend to go do it and then blame Scotty or Donny for making me do it when it was their turn. I’ve been relying on the fact Mom has been dealing with my sister and the fact I can turn on baby talk at any time to get my way and ensure that I was believed over them.

These are all the more egregious things I have done and after careful consideration would ask that any time I resort to baby talk you take appropriate discipline against me. It is a form of manipulation on my part that I can’t seem to stop on my own.

I would also ask for the same discipline that my sister receives. I know how difficult it is for her but I have found that the positive far outweighs the negative and I voluntarily agree – no, I beg you to both consider this my plea for your help. I no longer wish to be Janie Taylor until I earn the right. I would ask that you call me Unicorn Booty or Applejack until such time as you determine that my behavior has significantly improved and I have made appropriate amends for my many wrong doings.

If I should beg or whine or change my mind about this I would ask that you show me this letter and keep it inside of my rainbow tail for reference. You are fond of reminding me that I change interests the way that Taylor Swift, the singer, changes boyfriends. I never stick with anything – with your help to constantly remind me that I deserve and will benefit from discipline – I want to see this through to completion as defined by you. You will determine when I have reached a point to have truly learned my lesson and until then I will remain an obedient Pet.

Sincerely,

Unicorn Booty

(Signed with several hearts over the name ‘Unicorn Booty’ and the two o’s looking like a butt)

I wanted to read it several times before commenting because there was so much here that I was stunned. I had no idea my daughter had such thoughts, and for someone who thought ‘impotent’ and ‘impudent’ were the same words, I found what she wrote to be quite eloquent and well thought-out. I simply asked, “Why Unicorn Booty?”

She smiled and asked if I would return the tail to its proper place so she could demonstrate.

“In your ass?” I asked.

“My asshole is the appropriate place for a tail, yes, Mistress. It doesn’t hurt and is a constant reminder of my station. I already miss it, and ask that you include my letter, unless you would like Sir Donny to read it?”

My daughter wouldn’t have said bootyhole much less asshole to me a week ago. She called it an asshole with a straight face and it surprised me how mature she could sound when she wanted too.

I handed the letter to Donny, and while she held her tight little ass-cheeks apart, exactly like I had done for Mr. Goldman, I tried to stick the candy end of the ring pop into her tight, puckered asshole.

“Oh, can I, Mistress?” Mort asked without hiding his excitement.

I glared at him and worked the plug into her tight ass. She didn’t wince – she looked quite satisfied as I seated it into place. I could see the hint of pussy-froth starting to form at the tip of the tiny pink slit that was her vagina.

“I chose ‘Unicorn Booty’ because a boy at school told me that a Unicorn Booty is the mythical kind – the kind you hear about in legends. Kylie Jenner or one of her sisters has a Unicorn Booty, and so does J-Lo! Arianne Grande has a Unicorn Booty – everyone likes a Unicorn Booty. I want to be something or someone that people like and talk about, Mistress.”

“Seems a bit unfair that Taylor has to be Fart Face and you get to be a Unicorn Booty!” Donny snorted as he nodded while reading the letter, adding, “I knew it was you who deleted my Minecraft stuff. That was totally bogus! We put like so much work into that the summer before we moved here.”

“I am sorry about that, Sir, and I asked you to punish me earlier, but you said to wait until Mistress got home. So I wrote them this letter because I knew I would be tempted to lie and say I really didn’t do it. It’s already written on the page, so I can’t take it back. As to Unicorn Booty, well, I already said I feel bad because I kind of started calling Taylor ‘Fart Face.’ I really admire her and look up to her – even before she began this discipline, but now more than ever. I did say if that doesn’t work, then how about Applejack, Sir?”

“Why Applejack?” Donny asked, regarding her with begrudging respect.

“That’s my least favorite of all the My Little Pony characters.” Janie shrugged as if that were obvious.

I didn’t really care about what name she chose for herself. I was about to put a stop to the entire thing and tell her to pick up everything from the trash, even if she did it naked as a jaybird and it took her until morning. The things she wrote in the letter were troubling, but I felt tremendously guilty.

My own letter of guilt would have been twice as long and contained everything from fucking a bunch of strangers to having drinks with a guidance counselor and sucking his cock. I ran home naked after getting drunk. That was just the big stuff – I had also abused my authority and been got caught playing with myself when I didn’t have permission. I had allowed Taylor to charge expensive shoes and covered it up, and I had lied or overlooked things that I knew Tom should know. I hadn’t even texted him back tonight because I was busy fucking strangers!

I couldn’t in good conscience punish my daughter for much lesser offenses without feeling like Queen Hypocrite.

That was when the door burst open and we heard raucous laughter. Scotty was soaking wet and smiling as he walked his naked sister into the house with a leash around her neck. She was smiling and her jet-black hair was sopping wet. She shook herself the way Sandor does after a bath to dry off, and remained on all fours at the door while he wiped her down with a hand towel.

Taylor yipped playfully, just like a wet dog padding into the doorway that had come in out of the rain – wiggling her butt friskily and smiling up at her brother!

Scotty teased her and patted her bottom, but not sadistically – more like he was talking to a loyal companion or actual pet.

“See, I told you I would dry you off! Good girl!” Scotty talked down to his sister like she was a playful puppy as he stroked her head and wiped her back down.

Sandor came around to sniff her ass and she actually wiggled her butt for him.

“No! No!” Scotty scolded the two of them and his sister retreated, pretending to be ashamed of herself, while Sandor simply moved on to examine something else in the house.

The two of them had clearly had quite an adventure getting home in the rain, and Scotty had obviously walked her completely naked on all fours at least a part of the way with a dog leash, as he had been instructed.

“Wow, what’s going on here?” Scotty noticed his younger sister standing in the living room, still holding the position she had when I walked into the room. Scotty chuckled at his Sister’s predicament and asked “Mosquito tits in the living room? Way to go Mom! Now all the girls in the family drool while the boys rule!” he was clearly impressed and thought this was all my doing and intention.

That’s when Taylor’s eyes lit up like two thunderstorms and she leapt up off the ground. I could see the anger flash in her eyes as she came to her sister’s defense, and her pounce was directed right at me.

“No, no, no, no, motherfucking NO!” She held out a finger and ignored the leash hanging limp around her collar as she strode across the room to yell at me. There wasn’t a trace of the well-mannered pet that she had been only minutes before, submitting in the walkway of the house to be rubbed down by her brother.

“I agreed that you could discipline me because frankly I’ve been more than a handful and I know that. I know you and Dad live a certain way with a BDSM lifestyle and all that shit. But you will NOT just push that stuff onto my sister! You think discipline will benefit EVERYONE, but it doesn’t. Janie, you get out of my spreader bar and go put some clothes on right now.”

There was a difference in Taylor’s demeanor from before the training. She had epic tantrums and bitch-sessions where no matter how wrong she was, she was always right, from her perspective. This time, once she made her case, she told me that she would let me punish her or beat her or whatever for talking out of place, but she was standing up for her innocent little sister; who from Taylor’s perspective was sunshine and rainbows and light and everything nice.

That’s why, when I agreed with Taylor, she didn’t know how to react. The confused expression on her face read, “Well, then why did you just let me go on a tirade for 5 minutes if you agreed with me?”

“I want her to give you back your spreader bar as well.” I smiled as I saw Taylor’s attitude deflate before my very eyes.

“It isn’t her spreader bar,” Janie said, pointing out that that one was too big, so she broke into my toy cabinet upstairs and found one that fit.

“Well, aren’t you just the naked Goldilocks,” Scotty laughed in amusement.

“It gets better,” Donny said, then explained that he wanted Scotty to read the letter she wrote. “It’s in the tail in her ass!”

“I can recite the entire letter, if you would prefer not to read it,” Janie offered, promising that she had memorized it because she had written it so many times over the past week. “It took me this long to get the courage to ask for this training and to get it just right.”

Taylor was still standing, although she was dripping wet and naked, and Strawberry Sprinkles was sticking out of her ass slightly. She also had the words “Just Married” written across her tits in red marker, for some reason.

“You don’t need the courage to do what I’m doing, Ma’am,” Taylor said, explaining that this re-education was customized just for her. “The kind of shit you do is talk when the teacher says ‘no talking’ or get caught passing a note in class. The kind of shit I’ve done is at a whole 'nother level. I deserve this, and I’ve learned so much. I am actually thankful for it. And when Mom punishes me for yelling at her, I’m going to apologize and thank her, because obviously I’m still capable of running off at the mouth without thinking or stopping to ask why.”

She smiled at me and reassured me that she’d do much better if given the opportunity. “I am sorry, Ma’am, but I wanted to defend my sister. I didn’t realize it, but obviously she saw my training and thought it was helping. She is such a good girl – the kind that does extra credit even when there is no extra credit – that she just wanted to be like me. I am so flattered, and while it’s a little strange to see her standing here naked like this, I guess I can see why my behavior is to blame for this, too.”

Taylor explained that if she’d been a better sister and didn’t deserve training and discipline, then none of this would have ever happened. “If I hadn’t tried to blackmail Mom after I videotaped her that night when she was trying to have alone-time with Dad, then this wouldn’t have happened, and you guys wouldn’t have seen any of this. I know Sir Donny and Sir Scotty don’t mind and have been real good sports about it, but I didn’t really think it would affect Janie; where she’d actually want to do it too. I thought she liked being your Fluffer-Nutter or helper. But the point is, it’s my fault she is standing here like this, and in front of Mr. Goldman too!”

She regarded Mr. Goldman like a creeper for staring at her sister, and then looked back at me.

“Please punish me for this. I’ll carry every single thing back to my sister’s room from the outside trash in my teeth if you want. If you think my behavior is only going to encourage her more this way, then I’ll stop at home, or you can send me someplace where I can learn from my mistakes. I’ll do whatever you want, Mom! I mean Mistress!” Taylor sounded sincere as she begged me to accept and place blame on her for what her sister was asking for.

I was flabbergasted, but convinced that she had a point.

“You didn’t let me say that I thought Applejack was the worst Pony and I was willing to go by Applejack, Ma’am,” Janie said after a quiet pause.

I didn’t want to say that was because I didn’t care what her animated cartoon show had to do with this.

Janie quoted Applejack talking to her brother and imitated the cutesy voice: "This is your sister Applejack - remember? The loyalist of friends and the most dependable of ponies?!"

“I think you mean most loyal and not loyalist,” Donny corrected his youngest sister.

She explained with a pout that she was so far removed from the loyalist and truthful of all the ponies – most of all to her brothers and sisters – that it didn’t matter if it was the most loyal or loyalist.

“Wait, I’ve seen that show before,” Scotty said. Then he cleared his throat and said that he only watched for “research purposes” when given a strange look by his older siblings. The cartoon was clearly designed for 11-year-old girls, but it did have a reputation as being of interest to creepy older “Pony Bros.”

“Applejack is a brave, reliable, strong, honest, and hard-working pony, although headstrong about doing things on her own! If you are ANYONE on that show, it’s Applejack!” Scotty told his sister. He looked her right in the eyes, despite the fact that she was naked.

“Thank you, Sir.” Janie performed an invisible curtsy by dipping her knees slightly before returning her hands behind her head to accept the compliment. “I disagree, though – she is what I want people to think I am, and what I aspire to be, but I am so far removed from that. I think it would be ironic if I were called Applejack because it would remind me what I am not and what I have to accomplish as a pet.

“I’ve always thought of you as more of a Derpy the Blue Pegasus,” Scotty quipped at his sister.

Janie obviously got the reference because she crossed her beautiful blue eyes and sucked in her lips to make a goofy face, and agreed that she could be just as feather-brained as Derpy.

“I was told that Derpy’s real name is Muffins.” Donny felt the need to offer a correction while maintaining he never watched the show either. “I simply know because of all the internet memes made about her as Herpy Derpy.”

“Yeah, Muffins!” Janie said excitedly and managing to underscore that she really was simply not nearly as mature as her older sister. “I would totally be Derpy!” Janie agreed.

“I’m not sure what any of you are standing around here deciding,” I said as I placed my hands firmly on my hips. None of them knew that less than an hour ago I was getting pumped in every orifice like a common street whore – all they needed to know was that I was in charge. “I haven’t said you can do anything, and I’m not convinced that this kind of discipline would benefit you the way it does your sister,” I offered pragmatically.

Donny and Scotty looked disappointed, but I expected that from them. They were happy as clams now that Taylor had been declawed and reported to them. Janie didn’t pout or whine as she normally did when she didn’t get her way. She simply looked ‘down and dejected’.

“Mistress is right,” Taylor offered some big-sisterly advice. “I came charging in here like a panther about to pounce. I thought Mom made you do this and I shot my mouth off before I had all of the facts. That proves to me that I haven’t made nearly the progress I thought I had, and I need to continue to serve and be disciplined. I think, though, you need to focus on doing your own thing and your own path, and just learn from my example so you don’t have to go through this like me!” she smiled.

Janie looked up at her sister quite sweetly and thanked her. Then she said, “It’s a good thing your opinion no longer matters, though. You aren’t the boss of me,” she said.

“I AM the boss of you, though,” I reminded her. “If you want me to be your Mistress, then I’ll make sure you get to bed on time, eat right, speak respectfully and behave yourself, but you won’t be tied up at night like your sister.”

“If I’m misbehaving like her, though, I can learn so much from this discipline! Ma’am.” Janie pleaded to be allowed to recite the letter she wrote her father and me from memory. “I spent so much time working on the letter that I know it by heart. I started on it before Daddy,” – she corrected herself by calling her father ‘Master’ before continuing – “Master left for work!”

“You seem to think this is going to be fun,” I said, then reminded her that it was also hard work and not intended to be enjoyable. “You had a big grin on your face when I walked in, and your pussy is dripping wet right now.”

“I didn’t shave my pussy, Ma’am – the hair just doesn’t grow yet,” she said, and put her hand between her legs to touch the slick wet droplets of juice dripping off her slit before tasting them. “This is a bad thing?”

“It is when you’re supposed to have your mind on your punishment and discipline,” I explained.

This was an area that I had a hard time with myself. There had been many times Tom had punished me and I couldn’t help but get soaking wet. I was still soaking wet from the fucking I had just received as well.

“Fart Face was dripping wet almost every time she gets a spanking, though,” Janie said, looking confused.

“That’s true,” Taylor said. “But I’m a wretched, evil bitch who gets off on hurting people and sometimes on my own wicked little desires. It’s just a sign that whoever’s doing it can be a little more rough and serious with me.”

“So when I handcuffed you to the shower stall tonight and told you to hang around, that wasn’t hilarious?” Scotty asked playfully.

“It was, Sir, but sometimes I need you to be serious the way Mom is if you want me to take an actual discipline seriously. I know you love puns, and sometimes listening to them is painful in it its own way. But the most effective punishments are where you make me tell you what I did wrong, ask me how I would do it differently, make me apologize and ask for correction, and then administer it in a somber and serious manner, Sir.”

Taylor had just described her father’s method of punishment perfectly. I could see the features of his handsome face in both of my daughters – especially in their bright blue eyes – and I wished he was here. He would have told Janie what she needed to hear about not being ready, and it would have all made sense and this would be over by now.

Instead, I was left to fumble across the fetish line with them, and I had no idea how to explain this in a way that wouldn’t only make her want to do it more.

“So if I’m dripping wet and so were you,” Janie asked Taylor, “how is that any different?”

“There are times when there’s a stimulus that’s applied to you where it’s understood you’re going to have a physical reaction, and there are times when you should be ashamed and embarrassed, like now in front of your neighbor with a tail in your ass; you shouldn’t be turned on by that,” I explained. It seemed surreal I would be having this conversation – but here we were in the living room on a Wednesday night with both daughter’s naked.

“Trust me when I say,” Mort started in his thick Jewish accent, “no woman is ever turned on when they’re around me – no matter what they’re doing.”

“He’s seen my sister like this many times, Ma’am,” Janie told me, “and he’s been looking in my window enough times when I’m in the bathroom that he knows what I have between my legs already. I don’t see why it would bother me for him to look now,” she admitted proudly.

She really didn’t have anything to be ashamed of – she could certainly have won a Miss Teen America beauty pageant if she wanted to. Janie had the face of an angel and a very attractive, lithe figure, even though she hadn’t inherited my massive tits yet – I, too, was a late bloomer.

“You… I mean, Gffaww,” Mort stuttered and stammered, but I knew he was a pervert who’d been watching the girls, and I wasn’t going to push the issue. He was clearly standing in the living room now, and it wasn’t going to change what he did in the past to get upset about it. I made a mental note of that and decided to ignore it.

“I felt some remorse about a lot of the things in my room that I used to value, but I know in the long run giving them up will benefit me,” she explained to Taylor and Scotty, saying she was giving up her room.

“Ooh, special beat-off room to play Xbox!” Scotty called dibs on it without even so much as a consideration for his sister’s sacrifice.

“Now it was embarrassing to carry everything from my room out to the road naked, and I really didn’t like fluffing Donny,” Janie admitted.

“You jerked off Donny?” I don’t remember him pointing that out when we first began this discussion.

“She begged to do it, and I texted you to ask if I should let her. She saw Fart Face do it plenty of times, and she wanted to top off the almond milk,” he said by way of excuse. I gave him the stink-eye that he should have known better than to let his younger sister whack him off.

“Speaking of which…” Mr. Goldman composed himself and reminded me cryptically that I may want to make a deposit in the carton myself, while hinting that if I had a problem with his peeping, he may just tell my family about Olive Garden. I don’t think anyone figured out what he was getting at, but I certainly did.

“That won’t be a problem, and you are always welcome over here, Mr. Goldman.” I nodded in understanding.

“You haven’t really done enough bad things in your life, and you would have had to start about six years ago if you wanted to be where I am now,” Taylor offered again. “I know you don’t value my advice, Ma’am, and I don’t blame you – but I really see Mom’s side here. This is a lot harder than it looks, and I wouldn’t take it lightly. If you tell me to, I’ll carry every single thing of yours from the curb back to your room in between my teeth and place it back in place so you can sleep in your cozy bed tonight. You don’t want to sleep out here in the living room standing up!”

“Don’t presume to know what I want or need,” Janie corrected her sister and then told her to get down on all fours at her feet.

I was surprised when Taylor backed down and silently went to all fours again with her ass up and tits pressed to the carpet.

“How can I have authority over you when I’m just as bad as you? I constantly see your example and still find myself doing bad things. I should have learned from your example, and yet I don’t. I’d like to recite my letter word for word, and I want you to take my tail out and read it. Any time I miss a word, I want you to get up off the ground and smack my bare butt. That’s an order.”

The kids listened to her recite from memory the entire contents of the letter she wrote to her father and me. There were probably only about three times that Janie missed a word, and her sister dutifully got off the carpet and smacked her sister’s naked ass before returning to the floor.

All I could feel was the guilt knowing that I, too, had so many secrets. I had lied about a lot of things; played with myself when I shouldn’t; failed to tell their father when I made serious mistakes; ran naked through the community after drinking too much sangria at Olive Garden; I gave a guy a blowjob, and then fucked a bunch of other men to cover it up – I suppose that one belongs right on the top of my list of massive fuck-ups.

Here Janie was talking about shoplifting. And while it was shocking to me that she had done it for the thrill, I could hardly compare it to my list of offenses.

I think, in part, the fact that she was nowhere near my level of manipulation had convinced me to deny her request for training.

She was also my precious baby – the youngest. I just couldn’t see her doing what Taylor did. The fact she whacked off her brother concerned me massively, and I told her so.

“How can I learn if I don’t try it, Ma’am?” Janie demanded.

“I wish more Jewish girls asked questions like that when I was growing up,” Mr. Goldman spoke. I glared at him to let him know that I was through humoring him for the evening. I wasn’t going to harp on him for peeping on us, but I didn’t want him encouraging Janie openly masturbating the guys.

“There’s more that’s not on the list,” Janie admitted, saying that she’d been too cowardly to include them in the letter. She added that she didn’t want her sister to smack her, since this wasn’t in the original letter.

“The other morning when I poured cereal for my brothers, I used the almond milk carton intentionally. I thought they would realize it, but they ate the cereal, and I watched Scotty drink the bowl when he finished his Honeycomb cereal!” she smiled.

“You what?” Scotty demanded in disbelief.

“The milk seemed to help the females’ temperament around the house. I just thought I’d see what it did to yours, Sir.” Janie remained at attention with her legs open in the spreader bar as she admitted the practical joke. “It didn’t change your outlook, though.”

“I would imagine one glass wouldn’t have much of an effect on anyone.” I explained that it really took quite a few glasses consumed consistently over time, and that while I was okay with her drinking the milk, that was as far as things should progress. “I’m mad you broke into my room and tore up your room, but I don’t think you need discipline training. You can watch and help with your sister – I think that will help you!”

Janie looked quite disappointed, but continued with her admissions.

“I also sometimes rub Donny’s cell phone under my armpits, and I use both of their toothbrushes to clean my toes and in between my butt crack at times,” she admitted.

“Oh my God, that explains a lot!” Donny cried out at the revelation, and became angry. I could see Mr. Goldman laugh again.

“Do you remember getting upgraded to the Playboy channel and a bunch of dirty Pay-Per-View movies on your bill? Sir?” she asked Mr. Goldman sheepishly. She had this innocent childish way of talking when she was in trouble, and she was doing it now.

“Yeah, but that’s been happening for months, I haven’t been able to figure it out.” Mr. Goldman suddenly figured it out while he watched her smile.

“It turns out our remote works your TV, and so since you can see me from your bedroom,” she admitted, “I can see your TV. So I’ve been ordering all sorts of movies and just letting them run when you aren’t home.”

“Dammit,” Mr. Goldman said, and then admitted that was pretty devious.

I told her these were childish pranks and she should just quit.

“I put crayons in the dryer,” she told me.

I said that most kids her age do that.

“I put food dye under your iron sometimes,” she smirked.

“Okay, that’s clever, and I guess I thought that was Donny who was doing that,” I admitted.

Donny looked angry that I was his first suspect for that prank, but said nothing.

“I sometimes tease this homeless man on my way home – especially from Flip-up Friday – and try to get him to give me his last dollar to look up my skirt. I enjoy thinking he chose that instead of food,” she smirked.

“It was probably for booze anyway,” I reminded her.

“He has a family that lives in the woods, and his pregnant wife sometimes comes out to beg with him,” Janie admitted.

I had seen that couple living in the woods, and they didn’t seem like drug addicts or winos.

“These are notable pranks, and I’ll give you credit that some of them are seriously creepy and deranged, but nothing on the same level as your sister,” I said, shaking my head.

“If I should beg or whine or change my mind about this I would ask that you show me this letter and keep it inside of my rainbow tail for reference. You’re fond of reminding me that I change interests the way that Taylor Swift the singer changes boyfriends. I never stick with anything. With your help to constantly remind me that I deserve and will benefit from discipline, I want to see this through to completion, as defined by you. You will determine when I have reached a point to have truly learned my lesson and until then I will remain an obedient pet. Sincerely, Unicorn Booty.” Janie finished off the letter perfectly from memory.

I shook my head no – discipline, like her sister, just wasn’t going to happen for Janie or Muffins or Applejack or whatever she wanted to call herself. I had made my mind up. I tried to look sympathetic, but I had already made up my mind before she had even begun reciting the letter. Truth be told, I had made up my mind when I first saw her standing in the living room this evening that she was unprepared and too immature for the lessons of discipline.