CHAPTER SIXTY

Reader’s Note: These are EXCERPTS from Joanne Swift’s Journal for October 14^th (Friday).

Joanne has just returned home with Helen, Rachel, and Gherkin (Mort), and Helen has freaked out about what she saw inside.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Helen was waving her hands rapidly as if she were fanning something that was invisible in order to cool it down. “I am so sorry about this. I don’t even know where to begin! You must want to call the law or strangle us or I don’t know?” Helen’s emotional state was difficult to describe.

It was somewhere between panic, flustered and angry. Her eyes and nose were red with tears and anger as she apologized and vented.

“My son’s a pervert, okay? And I knew that, but I never thought he could get a girl to do anything weird with him. I mean, he likes anthropomorphic cat-girls and tentacle porn. It’s all cartoons, and I should have realized you have two daughters at home,” Helen was saying to me.

She turned to her son who was in my living room. “How did you get them to do this? WHY did you get them to do this? Oh my god, do you know how much trouble you’re in?” Helen demanded from him.

“Desu?” Pac said, while looking innocent and intently spinning a fidget spinner.

“Don’t give me any more of that desu stuff. You’re not from Japan. And you stop playing with that girl’s butt right this instant! Oh my gawd, I can’t believe you!” Helen insisted. “How did you get these girls to take their clothes off? How did you know how to tie them up like this? Where did you even get this stuff?”

The fidget spinner was attached to Janie’s butt-plug which was inserted firmly between her ass cheeks.

The girls were right where they’d slept last night. They were completely naked and locked in spreader bars with their hands cuffed behind their backs. They had their legs apart and were pressed chest-to-chest so that their nipples touched. They each had one end of a double-pronged dildo in their mouth, and there was less than 2 inches distance between their lips, as if they were almost kissing.

Both of them had their respective butt-plugs tightly jammed into their assholes, but Gary had been modified with a fidget spinner on the end, giving it the quality of a pinwheel.

Taylor had her father’s airplane travel pillow on her neck to help keep her head up. It had been a father’s-day gift that he seldom used. I was quite angry she thought she could go into our closet and get that out, but I did see the value in something to hold up their necks while they stood all night.

“It’s okay, her daughters go around naked all the time,” Rachel said calmly, while Gerk stood behind her taking it all in and admiring the lithe nude bodies.

“It’s one thing to be casual about nudity, and I respect people’s decision to walk around like that in their own home, but this?” Helen couldn’t believe I wasn’t freaked out by what I saw. She naturally assumed I was in a stunned sort of silence – simmering and about to explode. “Joanne is so freaked out she can’t even speak! She’s probably just deciding what to do first. I am so sorry!” Helen was ready to get Pac’s stuff and leave if I told her to do so.

“No, what Rachel means is that my daughters sleep like this in the living room. This is why I wanted to be home, so I could make other arrangements before you or your son saw how we discipline them at night,” I explained.

Helen had a look of total disbelief on her face. It was her turn to be in stunned silence, unable to process what she had just heard me say. She had a look on her face that read, “What the fuck now did you just say?”

“Okaa-chan,” Pac explained proudly what had happened. “When I came to get some milk, I saw that my school chum Derpy-chan and her sister Fart Face were on the ground and had fallen!”

“That isn’t very nice to call the girl ‘Fart Face,’” Helen said, but prompted him to go on.

“That is what we call them,” I confirmed for her, and she seemed confused, but let Pac tell what happened.

“So I helped them up and tried to free them from their bindings, but they insisted that they would be in deep doo-doo if I did. They told me that they had to stay this way, so I helped them back to their feet and secured it,” Pac said, smiling proudly.

“Why is your fidget spinner on her...” Helen started to ask awkwardly with her nose scrunched, “In her, or whatever?” She looked at me as if she was worried I would bite her head off. I stood there quietly and calmly, though.

“That is Gary-san, her special friend!” Pac explained, as if there was a quite reasonable explanation for why he was playing with two naked girls. “She told me she was not allowed to touch Gary-san, and asked if I would return him to where she keeps him as a reminder to what a pain-in-the-ass ho she is.” Pac waited to see if his mother would chastise him for cussing, and when she didn’t, he continued to explain that my daughter had given him permission to add the spinner if he wanted to.

“My fidget spinner is my very special thing, and Derpy-chan would not talk to me in the past, and yesterday she talked to me for the first time. Now, that we know each other much better, then we can be friends, and friendship is magic!”

“I don’t really understand. Why is no one else freaking out? I mean, I am glad Pac has taken an interest in girls. I would have been fine if he had taken an interest in boys, to be honest – as long as it’s a real person and not a cartoon cat with a vagina! But no one else is freaking out that they’re naked?” She seemed surprised when none of us reacted.

“Like Rachel said,” I tried to explain; I was feeling embarrassed at her reaction. “I know it sounds pretty freaky, but the girls are always naked at home, and no, they don’t mind if he saw. I’m more concerned your son saw something he shouldn’t, and it’s bothering you,” I told Helen.

“That’s kind of you, and I get it. I mean, I’ve heard of nudists who live like that 24/7, but that’s usually over in Germany or in nudist colonies down in Florida or something. I guess I just didn’t expect it here in Cherry Lawn. To answer your question, Pac has seen nudity, but usually mostly the cartoon kind. At least this way, he’s seeing natural bodies and not the overexaggerated, hypersexualized, oversized boobies that they draw in anime.” Helen seemed less freaked-out when she admitted that out loud, but she was still having a difficult time getting her head around this.

“Yeah, I saw where their farts come from!” Pac said with a big grin, as if he were proud of himself. “It smells just like American cheese and tuna fish when you sniff it!”

His mother ignored his comment. “My son has some weird interests, and I get that – I’ll be totally honest with you that I wasn’t sure he would ever talk to a girl in any normal fashion. But why are you daughters tied up in the living room every night?” She looked very confused and concerned that they may be coerced.

“Let me let Derpy explain in her own words that they’re not in any way coerced, they chose this discipline and asked to be kept this way for their own good after their behavior reached a breaking point here,” I said as I walked over to my daughters and separated them by removing the dildo from their mouths. “Why don’t you tell Helen what happened tonight?” I asked Janie.

She was still locked into the spreader bar and writhing around on the dildo, back and forth and slightly up and down, as if we didn’t notice she was humping herself by rocking back and forth on it. In Janie’s defense, she may not have really understand why it felt natural to do that.

“You can stop fucking yourself long enough to take her concerns seriously about what her son just saw,” I demanded as I spun her around to face the rest of us. “You’re not on the tripod for your own amusement, so stop embarrassing me by acting like a little slut,” I smacked her on the butt softly.

She started to explain calmly and respectfully that she was here of her own free will and that she absolutely wasn’t being abused; that this had all been explained to her before she started, and after her sister began the discipline, she understood it would be difficult. However, before she could get through much of that, she burst into one of her patented giggle-fits of hysterical laughter.

I told you that once my daughter starts laughing, she can’t quit, and sometimes goes for five minutes at a time. It’s not a steady laugh – it will usually be an explosive burst and then she may slow down a little like she is going up on a roller coaster until she reaches the top and explodes down to the bottom again with a new fit of giggles.

This was one of those times as her face became red, not with embarrassment but with amusement.

I wasn’t sure what she was even laughing at until she got about thirty seconds into her laughing fit.

“Oh my god, Mr. Goldman! You’re wearing my panties!” She would have pointed, but her hands were cuffed behind her back as she laughed herself silly. “Sweetie Belle panties! Hoooo-hah! Omg! You look so much cuter than I ever did in them! Oh my! Haha,” she laughed.

I have to admit, her giggles are infectious and silly. When she was very little, she once heard a stranger fart on the bus and laughed all the way home from the mall. I was laughing too, and so was the stranger by the time we got to my stop.

Helen was the first to laugh, and I suppose that Tony calling her ‘Giggle Tits’ was kind of appropriate because she hadn’t put her bra back on, and as she laughed they shook under her blouse.

The rest of us all began to laugh, and even Mr. Goldman looked like he was choking back a laugh while my silver butt-plug rested squarely in his mouth. The girls didn’t know that Bud belonged to me, but they clearly had a good laugh at his expense. The laughing session served to take the edge of an otherwise very awkward and tense situation.

“You do look pretty absurd in those panties,” Helen laughed, and said she had to see if Victoria’s Secret sells them.

“Walmart, $9.94 for a set of seven,” I said as I was still guffawing at my daughter’s hysterical laughter.

Mort truly did turn red from embarrassment. In the light, without his shirt, he was covered in hair, freckles, and was lily white – truly a wimp of a man.

“His name is Gerk now,” Rachel smiled proudly as she patted him on the head.

“Gerky-Werky!” Janie agreed excitedly, and with that she calmed herself down quite a bit.

“Okaa-chan, what is on your chest?” Pac pointed to his mother’s loose blouse. Our hair was a mess, our makeup had ran down our faces, and we had rushed to throw on our clothes.

She looked at her cleavage and noticed the words that Tony had written on her. She adjusted her top button to hide it and said, “You’ve looked at enough boobs for one night; you don’t need to see what’s on mine!”

That was a clever way of avoiding admitting it said ‘Cummy, Cummy, Cum Drops’ and redirecting her concerns on her son.

“Fine, Derpy-san or Derpy-Chan, or whatever you told him to call you, can you tell us what happened and why you’re like this?” I interrupted.

“I didn’t tell him to call me Derpy-chan. He calls all the girls at school their name and adds chan, and no one knows why, Ma’am.” Janie had managed to get her giggles under control.

“It’s is an honorific,” Pac explained with the dry manner that my eldest son tends to use when he offers explanations about geeky things. “She called me ‘Sir,’ so I felt it only proper, sumimasen,” he offered apologetically.

“It’s totally fine, you can call me anything you like, Sir, and I have to be pleasing and smile because you are my better, now,” Janie told him.

“Was he your better before your discipline began?” I asked her. The tone she used when she said now suggested she didn’t think he really was.

“In my mind, no, Ma’am, he wasn’t, because I was a little rude bitch who enjoyed scaring him and laughing at him with my friend,” Janie said as she became introspective.

“Why did you laugh at Pac?” I asked curiously.

“He would bring a pillow with a picture of a naked girl on it to school events, for instance,” Janie started to explain.

“Only on special occasions,” Pac held up a finger to interject, “such as field trips, sunshiny days that are extra special times. She is my waifu and protector as well,” he said.

I didn’t need to hear any more to get the picture. My sons were downright mainstream jocks compared to this kid.

“I can get rid of the pillow now, though. I think that I like actual girls a lot better,” Pac smiled – and strangely, so did I when he said that.

“As to what happened,” Janie continued, as if it wasn’t strange at all to have her legs spread in a metal bar and completely naked in the living room, “I am totally sorry that I fell asleep and we fell over again, Ma’am,” she apologized to me.

“Wait? ‘Again’? When did you fall over before that?” I was concerned that she had fallen and I didn’t know about it.

“Last night, too, when I was put in the spreader bar,” she explained. “I assumed I was supposed to stand up all night, but at some point I got so tired that I fell asleep and crumpled and took Fart Face down with me. Lord Donny and Lord Scotty punished us and took care of it in the morning. I told them it wasn’t Fart Face’s fault, and that it was my weight that brought her down with me when I fell over. But she insisted on taking the punishment with me, even when Lord Donny and Scotty forgave her for it.” I could sense the respect in Janie’s voice for her big sister’s sacrifice.

I nodded and gave a satisfied look to my daughters before asking Janie to continue with her story.

“I did it again tonight, and when I slid, Gary popped out of my asshole and we couldn’t get up. That’s how Pac found us, Ma’am.”

“I saw the girls in distress, writhing on the ground, so I immediately sprang into action,” Pac said proudly. “I tried to free Onee-san and Imouto, but they told me they would be punished. I helped put them back standing up, but realized that they would simply fall again, so I took measures to assist! The first thing I did was try to brace Onee-san’s neck with a pillow, and was directed to a closet where I found this pillow.” He pointed out with pride that he had been the one to use Tom’s travel pillow to hold up Taylor’s head.

I got the sense that Onee-San and Imouto were nicknames, but I had no idea where he got them from, and no one else got the reference, either.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t ask him to help us, Ma’am!” Taylor said. She was still facing to the side of everyone else and kept her eyes straight ahead. “We didn’t know if he was supposed to be here or we would have asked for correction for falling down. I told him I wasn’t permitted to use my Master’s pillows, and that I didn’t need any comforts, but he insisted and I knew better than to argue with my betters, Ma’am.”

“I’m not mad about what you did. I think you shouldn’t be punished unless you intentionally fell over. I will have a talk with your brothers about making sure you’re both secured safely at night. And you can look at us when we’re talking to you, Fart face,” I continued as Taylor looked at me. “You have to look down at your sister all night, and it’ll cramp your neck. Good thinking, Pac. I like the pillow idea,” I complimented Pac, and he was delighted that I noticed his ingenuity.

“Yatta!” Pac gave what I thought was a kind of a hoo-ray self-congratulatory dance and then explained his other solution to the problem of the girls falling down. “I reflected that Onee-san’s structure that held her up had three balance points.” Pac quickly pointed to the two ankle straps and Taylor’s feet locked into the spreader bar as the first two. Then he sheepishly pointed to the dildo that was fairly well lodged into her pussy. It was held in place by a metal bar that attached to the center of the spreader bar so that she couldn’t easily pivot her hips.

“Imouto only had two balance points; the middle bar was not locked into place,” he said, as if trying to choose his words carefully and not come right out and say it.

“You stuck that dildo in her?” Helen gasped, in shock that her son had put a dildo inside Janie or Taylor.

“No, I just asked that once upright, she lower herself on to it after I raised it high enough she could sit on the wee-wee shaped balancing pole, or else she would find herself in the same predicament, which she did after much struggling and working of her hips,” he said. “I didn’t know it was called a dildo. I just call it a plastic wee-wee!”

I made a silent note to myself that my sons were still squeamish about training Janie. Her pussy was very tight, and they probably didn’t want to hurt her by making her sit on a dildo – maybe even take her virginity and break her hymen, if she still had it.

“So did you stick other that thing in her butt?” Helen was still skeptical about what she had seen, and referenced the butt-plug with the spinner in Janie’s pert little ass. I think she would have been upset if she thought Pac had forced it on her.

“She told me his name is Gary-san and he fell out when they rolled on the floor. She asked if I would return it, and I told her this is where she makes poopy from,” Pac explained with a scrunched-up nose as if he were disgusted, but still smiling about it.

“She said she knows this is where she makes poopy from, and that she wouldn’t mind if I would please let her clean Gary and then to replace him where his home is. She licked it clean!” he said as he made an excited but disgusted face before continuing. “I did, however, ask if I could apply my fidget spinner to improve upon Gary’s design, which I think you will agree is much, much better, ne?”

Pac spoke in a sing-song kind of way with a slight Asian accent. He would shift his shoulders from side to side when he talked about things he liked, as if he were flying a kite, or stand completely still if he were talking about anything else.

“I’ve been playing with Gary-san for the last two hours while I waited for you to get home. Where were you, anyway, Okaa-chan?” Pac asked his mother.

“Where I’ve been is none of your business.” Helen became indignant and looked at me for support. “The bigger question is did this girl mind you playing with her butt for two hours? I’m not going to pass judgment on what they choose to do around here, but you can’t just play with a girl’s butt simply because she’s, well, standing there like that.” Helen’s voice drifted from authoritative to confused as she heard herself lecture her son on what was likely the most awkward situation of his life.

“Pac is a guest in our home, and I told him that if he would like to play with my ass and it amused him, then he could, Ma’am. I know it sounds dirty, but I’m actually learning to not be so stingy with my body, my time, my affection, and to be a more gracious member of my family. My sister and I asked for discipline training, and despite my mother’s objections, she has been kind enough to make sure that we stick to the rules that we agreed to follow. I assure you there were a few times I felt like telling him to stop, but that is not my decision to make, and he was a perfect gentlemen to come and rescue me,” she told Helen before addressing me. “I am, however, prepared to be punished for falling asleep, Mistress.”

“You won’t be punished for falling asleep. You’re supposed to get some sleep. We aren’t cruel, we’re just keeping you from enjoying the comfort of a nice warm bed and privacy. Your brothers should have secured you more carefully, and I’ll have a talk with them in the morning about it,” I said.

I wasn’t entirely thrilled she had to writhe on a dildo all night, but that was how this sort of stand worked. She was destined to fall over, and I didn’t want to set her up to fail.

The living room smelled of warm pussy musk from the girls – that indicated they both had been fucking themselves up a lather at one point or another. “I think you have to learn to control yourselves, though. This is not for your pleasure or amusement. You aren’t supposed to ride the stabilizer in the middle. It’s supposed to annoy, not pleasure you! I’ll make sure to let your brothers know THAT as well, and they will be punishing you if they catch you humping it all night without permission.”

“Her brothers tied them up?” Helen seemed flabbergasted now. “Wow, you guys have an interesting family dynamic. I think my brothers would have freaked out if my mother let them tie me and my sisters up. They probably would have done a lot more naughtier things to us than just that,” Helen let that comment linger to see if we would confirm or deny that before continuing by asking Pac, “Did you touch them anywhere else?”

“No? Where else would I touch them?” Pac asked innocently, as if he were surprised that there were other places of interest on a girl’s body besides their asses.

“Haha, you’re an ass-man like my Solly,” Rachel laughed in consolation before telling him that there are a lot of other interesting places on girls.

“Why do you make them wear those plugs, anyway?” Heather asked with concern in her voice for my daughters. “Isn’t that a bit much?”

“Our guests want to know why your asses are plugged. Fart face, can you answer her?” I asked Taylor to answer. Tom always insisted I answer questions because it reinforced my submission.

Helen seemed shocked I would put Taylor on the spot, and retracted the question politely.

“No, no worries at all, Helen. If you’re wondering something, feel free to ask. I’d actually rather you do than to go away thinking the worst of us. I just make the girls answer questions like this because it helps reinforce what they’re learning. If I allowed them to say that they do it because they have to, or because they were told to do it, they wouldn’t actually learn anything other than there are things they have to do. They need to be able to tell you the reasons why, and Fart Face, there are at least four reasons – see if you can name them.”

“Fart Face, haha, I really can’t get over that’s her name. I mean, did Tony come up with that name for her?” Helen giggled at the pet names Tony gave us earlier.

“I don’t know who Tony is, Ma’am, but the name was chosen for me because I had abused my privileges by my past name of Taylor. I actually hated being called Taylor because my last name is Swift, and people would always ask me if I was a fan of her music, and I would be a total bitch about it,” she explained.

“Well, I guess I can see that. But why ‘Fart Face,’ of all things?” Helen mused.

“I would literally fart in people’s faces at the dinner table at times, quietly, as if they didn’t realize, but they all did and were just afraid to tell me what an awful brat I was being, because I could make them feel small when they pointed out my wrongdoings, Ma’am. I also had a tendency to call people – especially my sister – ‘fart face.’ And so it was chosen because it makes people laugh at me, just like you did, and makes it hard for them to respect me until I earn that respect. Does that answer your question? And if so, I’ll be happy to explain why I have a butt-plug in my ass tonight, Ma’am.”

Taylor was surprisingly polite, succinct and thoughtful – it was my favorite part of this new change in her. Helen nodded that she could continue. “Should I sit down for this?” she asked.

“If you want to, Ma’am,” Taylor continued. “There are four main reasons we’re plugged almost all of the time. The only times we aren’t plugged is when we’re being washed, inspected, or shitting. Otherwise we keep our assholes constantly packed with the plug,” she said.

“Wow,” Helen said as she sat down in the living room.

“My butt-plug’s name is Strawberry Sprinkles, and Derpy’s plug is named Gary. They have names because we have to learn to treat them with respect and care for them. The first lesson they teach us is that they are constant partners in our training to keep our asses in line. We keep them clean and secure and never, ever lose them. They’re like those eggs you get assigned in school and have to treat like your baby, except Gary and Strawberry Sprinkles are trainers.”

“Wow, wow,” Helen said while her eyes widened with surprise at how impactful that first reason was.

“The second lesson they teach us is that we’ve been shameful assholes ourselves, and they serve to remind us what pains in the asses we’ve been all of our lives. The third reason is that we must learn to keep our assholes clean and free of shit, and never ever play with them. I know it sounds silly, but when you’re naked and have nothing to do for hours, you tend to play with whatever toys are at hand, and that’s is a no-no during discipline training, Ma’am,” Taylor said with a knowing smile.

“Wow, wow, wow.” Helen asked what the fourth reason was.

“I, uh,” Taylor spent a moment thinking about what that reason could be.

“It strengthens the cunt muscles by applying pressure to them, and requires us to grip it with our asshole to demonstrate control of our bodies, Ma’am,” Janie answered for her sister politely.

That was the fourth reason that I had thought of, but when I heard Janie say it in her sweet and innocent voice, it did sound very naughty.

“Why would you need that?” Helen looked at me now with disgust. She may have been a slut tonight, but she thought I was training my daughters to be sluts as well, and I could see she didn’t like that answer.

“So that we can do this,” Janie smiled theatrically and slid along the dildo, slightly allowing her very thin pussy lips to grip the dildo and pull it inside her, and opened and closed her lower lips by contracting her pussy muscles. “We can also do this.” She was able to move the butt-plug in her ass with her asshole muscles and spin the fidget spinner, and then contracted her left butt cheek and her right one in rapid succession.

Rachel chuckled at the performance, and I have to admit, it was kind of cute. “I’m still working on moving my tits like my sister,” Janie admitted with a pout, as she looked down at her dainty chest with disappointment in an adorable way, as if wishing it were bigger.

Taylor smiled at her sister supportively, and moved first her left tit in a clockwise circle and then her right one, without using her shoulder to jiggle them.

I was quite impressed that they had mastered those things on their own.

“So it’s not so you can fuck a bunch of boys?” Helen remained skeptical of her response.

“Gosh, no, Ma’am,” Janie answered her innocently. “We’re learning it to amuse our betters around the house and for practical purposes – to be able to grip this tripod so I don’t fall over at night!” She emphasized why she had been humping herself up and down on the dildo, and I felt a little embarrassed for having chastised her about it when It became obvious to me she was keeping herself wet so that she could better hold herself up tonight.

“The girls aren’t allowed to be with boys at all like that,” I explained for her. “We don’t want them to be dirty sluts who run around with boys. They had no boundaries before the discipline began, but now they’re closely watched and supervised. They aren’t allowed to date anyone without our permission. We punish them if they’re aroused when they should be doing their chores,” I said.

“So how do you punish them if they get aroused?” Helen was still getting her mind around it. She seemed to be coming around to what I was saying, but a part of her found it just too incredible to believe, and I understood that.

“Well, if someone sees our nipples are hard or we have goose-bumps, or our cunts are dripping-wet, then we usually stand in the corner for five minutes. And if we’re well-behaved and cooled off when that’s over, then we’re given a spanking and sent back to our chores, Ma’am,” Taylor admitted freely.

“Your butts seem to be a big part of all of this,” Helen said, and looked at me disapprovingly.

“We were assholes around the house and shot off our mouths; my sister had a shoplifting problem; and I had an attitude problem. So having to show our asses for what we did and answer for it has put an end to that. It seems like a fair trade, and assholes are no secret or special flower, Ma’am,” Taylor admitted. “Like opinions, everyone has them,” she said.

“Yours does look like a Hana no Ko Lunlun, an angel flower,” Pac told Taylor, as if he was trying to hide a huge crush on her.

“That’s flattering sir, that you think my asshole looks like a special flower,” Taylor lips curled up in a churlish smile as she said the words out loud as if she couldn’t believe she was accepting such a strange compliment. “I am glad you didn’t mind seeing me naked tonight. I can see why your mom is worried about our naughty influence on you. You handled it very maturely and with discretion and self-restraint! Much more so than I would have. One of the reasons I’m now in this situation is that I made a movie I shouldn’t have of my mom when she thought she was in private, and showed it to my friends in order to embarrass her. It seems now I am embarrassing her with my own nudity,” she said as she looked at me apologetically.

I wasn’t sure what to say.

“No, there’s no reason to be embarrassed, I guess,” Helen said as she shook her head. “I think I understand. It just is something I didn’t expect,” she continued, seeming confused. “There are a lot of different ways of raising a family, and this is definitely something I never thought of,” she said.

“Do you think the butt-plugs would work on the attitude of males the way it does girls?” Rachel asked, changing the subject.

“I don’t know,” I said, explaining that I had never thought about it, as we all looked at Gerk. He swallowed slightly – my metallic butt plug in his mouth probably seemed quite huge to him when he thought about it going into his tiny asshole.

“Maybe you could start with a driedel,” Helen joked with her.

Rachel glared at her. “Just because we’re Jewish doesn’t mean we’re a stereotype!”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Helen started to apologize.

“Although, now that you mention it, I may have a starter dreidel we could try. Maybe we could name yours after Uncle Lou, and Pup’s after Aunt Levonah, and then work up to one that is more the size of the one in your mouth!” she said to Mort. She seemed to enjoy teasing her brother immensely.

“I’m sorry, but is everyone into BDSM besides me and I just didn’t realize it?” Helen was making light of the fact that it did seem odd that both Rachel and I were neighbors and into dominance and submission.

“I don’t know about that,” Rachel answered her seriously. “Until I saw how well-behaved Joanne’s daughters were, I would have thought BDSM was just sex games in the bedroom with furry handcuffs and whips. All I can tell you now is that my brother had a masturbation problem and a peeping tom problem. He couldn’t stop himself. He peeked all the time at anything with a hole between their legs. His wife was about to leave him. If he hadn’t admitted to her what he had been doing last night, she already had divorce papers drawn up and he would have lost everything – every penny!”

She let that sink in before continuing. The look on Mort’s face told me that it was true.

“I saved him a fortune in legal bills and alimony by taking over when I did. If I hadn’t made him come clean to Muriel, she would have left him and taken everything. She and I manage his money now, and his time, but now that we have this new arrangement he feels happy, safe, secure, and we’ve managed to cut the porn completely out, haven’t we Gerky?” She patted her brother on the top of his head patronizingly.

He nodded in agreement with a thankful expression on his face.

“The only reason we’re here tonight now is that I promised him if he was really well-behaved, I would let him make a little deposit in your milk carton, and then we’ll put his schmeckel back into the cage. I am strict, but not cruel – I know after what he saw tonight, he’s aching to blow his load, and waste not, want not,” she smiled.

“Deposit in the milk carton? You said something about milk earlier,” Helen remembered, and asked what she means by that.

“It’s kind of hard to explain,” I started, and suggested we explain it at a different time. If Pac had already seen and heard too much, then finding out we milk dicks into an almond-milk carton and drink it would probably seem completely over the top.

“My brothers had a masturbation problem as well, Ma’am,” Taylor explained quite succinctly. “That’s natural at their age to want to jerk off. And so, rather than punish or scold them, since it wasn’t nearly as extreme as Mr. Goldman’s problem, they jerk off into a container of almond milk. Semen has a lot of hormonal properties,” Taylor started to explain.

“It’s definitely good for the complexion,” Rachel admitted with a smile – having had it all over her face only an hour earlier.

“It helps with keeping us in a submissive mindset, and so we drink from the carton at meal times, and I understand it has vitamins and nutrients in it as well. So it is good for us while being unpleasant enough that we don’t take pleasure in it,” Taylor said quite seriously.

“So you don’t suck them off, but you drink their cum?” Helen’s expression told me that definitely seemed way past the line of decency, in her opinion.

“My daughters do not suck cocks,” I tried to insist, noting that while this seemed very sexual, I had made sure that the donations were as anonymous and random as possible so that no one knew exactly whose cum they were drinking.

“Well…” Janie interrupted, and I joined Helen in staring in dismay, awaiting her explanation.