Cunt Next Door

[EddieDavidson]

My brother expected me to explicitly agree out loud to his terms. I was reluctant, perhaps because it was embarrassing to actually hear myself say the words.

“Sure what, slut?” Speak in full sentences or I’ll gag you so you don’t speak at all, you silly bitch,” Rich said.

There it was again. Rich sounding like he really believes I’m a silly bitch. “Sir,” I added.

“Say the whole thing. Tell me you’re my slut. Make me believe it so I can really help you. If I am going to invest my time in making it feel real then you can as well.”

Rich had a point, and it was just words. I didn’t have to actually mean them. What did I have to lose by calling myself a slut except maybe blowing my chance to spend extra time with mom? Honestly, I wasn’t even sure it was only about that, anymore. My curiosity was piqued about the routine and I wanted to see Mr. J and mom’s face when I blew their minds.

My shoulders slumped but only in my head. My actual shoulders stayed high and back so my boobs would be presented like I’d learned. My nips were hard too, which only made the view I was presenting, more believable.

I didn’t know it’d be so hard to say the very thing two different people had called me for days. The thing I didn’t believe but had grown so accustomed to hearing, that it no longer bothered me. I took a breath.

“I’m your slut, Sir.”

There, I’d said it. But Rich wasn’t convinced. I couldn’t believe it when Rich said he wanted to hear me say he could do anything he felt he needed to, to prepare me in the next two weeks. He said he needed me to say the words so he could hear them from my own mouth.

If he’d gagged me like he’d threatened, he certainly wouldn’t be able to hear me vocalize my agreement!

“You’re the boss of me, Sir. I’ll be your little slut as long as it takes, and you can make me do whatever you need,” I said. It wasn’t so hard calling myself a slut the second time.

I instantly regretted saying what I had, though. What if Rich told me to assume one of the positions at school? I knew I’d never be able to do that! But Rich had been pretty cool about this whole thing so far, so I felt I was being silly by even worrying about it.

I was still immediately glad I had never treated him like I’d seen Mary Hammond treat her little brother. But then her little brother was an annoying twelve year old that was always pranking her and getting her in trouble with their mom.

Rich was different. He’d been looking out for me for days. To me, that proved it. I knew I could trust that Rich had my back.

“You need to commit yourself to the role of being my slut if you are going to take me seriously when I make corrections. If you can’t make me believe that you are taking this seriously, Jim definitely won’t believe it.”

Rich sold me with that last point. I had done so much better when I stopped thinking and just let myself by led by the commands I was given.

“I need ground rules, though, Sir. For example, while we’re at school, we have to pretend we don’t know each other. You’ll still be my little brother but I won’t ever answer to you there, okay?”

“No. The rule is that you do what I tell you all the time. You’ll have to trust me not to get you in trouble. If something I tell you to does get you in trouble, we’ll change the rule, and you can just be Erin at school again. But if you try to get in trouble so you can blame me, then I’m going to dad.”

“Dad can’t know about this!” I hissed, suddenly scared of what dad would do if he found out.

“Dad’s oblivious. You heard what mom said. He made her choose between being a slut and living here. But she’d been a slut for what? EIGHT years, first? We’ll be gone to college by then. Or I will be, anyway. I don’t see you as the college type.”

“So Dad won’t know?” I needed clarification. My apprehension was building and it felt like I was signing over a blank check to my little brother to do anything he wanted. I just needed to hear there were going to be some boundaries.

Rich didn’t seem to think he needed to state them explicitly. The look on his face suggested that he was offended that I didn’t just trust him.

“What do you think, slut? What would dad do if he found out you’re my slut? I’m your BROTHER. He’d send one of us off to live with crazy Aunt Tracey. Can you imagine living in a trailer with five other girls? Actually, I guess that’s not so bad, but I won’t tell dad if you don’t make me.”

“And you’ll keep protecting me like you did when Mr. J wanted to make me owe him time?”

I did need an advocate if I wanted to keep seeing Mom. It had to be a male, and Rich HAD proven himself to be on my side. I even felt guilty that I’d suspected Rich might take advantage of the situation like Mary Hammond’s little brother would do. He had no reason to do that. We didn’t have that kind of antagonistic relationship.

“As long as you’re a good girl and do as you’re told. I might even be persuaded to let you keep talking to boys.”

“Huh? Why wouldn’t you?” I asked, confused by how we’d jumped to boys from dad.

“You’re MY slut. You’ll get whatever you need from me, of course. The only thing guys have that girls really want is dick. If I want you to have strange dick, I’ll point you at a guy of my choosing.”

“Oh. Um, okay,” I said, understanding at last. I didn’t WANT dick, so not getting it wouldn’t be a problem for me. But Rich was wrong about one thing. I liked talking to boys because they made me feel special. I could go a couple of weeks not talking to one though.

“What about punishments? Remember the first time we saw mom, how she had all those whip marks on her? How do you feel about that?” He asked casually as if asking about the weather.

“You are NOT going to actually whip me like that, are you?” I’ve been known to cry when I get a paper cut. I couldn’t stand being whipped with an actual whip! “Sir, I mean’,” I added to show that I was serious.

“So, no fun whippings. Got it,” he said as if that might have been a thing to discuss.

Then I remembered what mom had said about Mr. J and how she’d made it sound like just another day at the office.

“Anything else that’s a hard limit?” He asked.

I didn’t know there was any other kind of limit. What would a soft limit even mean?

I really didn’t know. What sort of things could be considered hard limits when the possibilities were endless, and I’d never been subjected to any of them? I knew I didn’t want to be whipped though, that’s for sure.

“Tuna without mayonnaise is a hard limit?” I smirked. I didn’t know what he wanted me to say.

“I thought you wanted to take this seriously. You asked me for boundaries, and now you are joking around when I try to give you some?”

“Sorry Sir, I really don’t know exactly what you mean when you say hard limits. Are there soft limits too? Can’t I just tell you as we go?”

“No you can’t, slut! Damn you’re stupid! It’s like traffic lights when you’re driving. A soft limit is like an amber light and a hard limit is like a red light means nothing but stop.”

“I don’t have a driver’s license, Sir. And I’m not dumb. I just don’t know what I don’t know, is all!”

I might have said I wasn’t dumb, but I sure felt it. Being called dumb by my dumb brother who was proving to be smarter than I’d ever imagined, was a real blow though. I wanted him to keep calling me creative and enthusiastic and dedicated, even tough. Yet I was close to tears by just being called dumb.

“Okay, point taken,” Rich said in a softer voice. “Since you don’t know what a hard limit will be until you face it, I’ll tell you. If I tell you to do something and you say RED or AMBER or if you’re gagged and you slap your hand against your head or if you’re tied and gagged, and you start blinking your eyes real fast, I’ll put on the breaks. I’ll make it so you can talk and you can specify what you mean. If it’s red, we don’t continue, period. If it’s amber, we’ll figure out what the problem is. Fair?”

“What do you mean, stop, period?” I asked, a little concerned that it meant what I thought it did.

“It means, done. Over. Finished. No more visiting with mom. We’ll be done and I’ll explain to Jim that you just couldn’t cut it. But you’ll still be my sister, and I’ll still love you.”

I almost choked up at that. Rich loved me. I mean I know he does and I love him too but it’s just something we don’t say out loud in our family. I spent a moment embracing the words I love you before focusing on the other part.

The part where if I said the word red, spending time with mom would become a pipe dream once more. I hadn’t done everything I’d done just to throw it away! Why would Rich even suggest I had that power?

Then a thought struck. Suddenly everything sounded easy. I could always put a stop to whatever Rich was doing by just by saying the word amber. We’d talk about it, and he’d learn not to do whatever the thing is, anymore.

“Okay, that sounds good. But I’m never going to say red, Sir.”

“That’s the spirit, slut! Then it’s decided. But no second chances. If the word red slips out of your mouth while you’re actively training, we’re done, so don’t fuck it up!”

“I won’t, Sir,” I said with a smile. I felt like a million dollars. Like nothing could stop me now.

“So tell me what happens if you say amber, slut?”

I confidently replied, “We stop what we’re doing and come to an agreement, Sir.”

“Are you going to assure me you’ll never say amber either?” Rich seemed like he expected me to claim that as well, but that was going to be my safe word to use when Rich started acting a little too big for his britches.

I WAS still his older sister, after all. Even though I’d agreed to be his naked slut, I didn’t have to let him treat me like dirt anymore. What I really wanted was to start testing the amber signal.

“I think we should start going through the red pages, Sir,” I suggested brightly, instead of answering his question.

I expected him to tell me he was happy I was being so enthusiastic about looking through the red pages after being so upset about them before.

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

“You don’t ignore a question from me, you disgusting life support system for a cunt! Answer my damned question, dipshit!”

I was rendered momentarily speechless by his instantly harsh words and attitude. It took me a couple seconds to remember to say amber.

“Amber! Amber, Amber, Amber!” I screeched. “You can’t call me that!” I insisted.

“What?” Rich looked honestly surprised that I’d used the signal so early.

“It’s demeaning to be called dipshit to my face, Sir, much less the other thing!”

“That’s not how amber works, dumbass! You said you understood! You use amber when something is physically hurting too much! Calling you names is nothing. It’s just part of being a dumb slut. I’m going to do my best to toughen you up and make you less sensitive. Jim’s going to call you more imaginative and degrading things that I could possibly dream up. Damn, what have I gotten myself into?” He asked rhetorically, shaking his head. “Fetch me the ruler, slut,” he added.

I blushed with embarrassment even more than I had from him calling me names. Did I feel stupid or what! What he’d said made total sense after he explained it.

I just wished he’d explained that part earlier so I didn’t look like the dumbass he’d called me. And now he was going to punish me before we even started doing anything constructive. The worst part was that I deserved it.

I didn’t hesitate though. Even as I was thinking what a fool I was, I was moving over to the dresser and getting him the ruler that he could just as easily have reached for himself.

“Spoon,” he said when he had the ruler in his hand and started swishing it menacingly in the air.

“You know I have to do this, right?” He asked.

He’d never asked when he’d swatted me while I was learning the first five positions. The only thing different was that I was about to be punished for being a dumbass, not for getting the position wrong. I was about to be actual-punished, not corrected in a supportive fashion by a little brother who wanted me to do well.

“I know, Sir,” I agreed, still not liking the idea in the least, but I was already in the Spoon position with my butt facing him.

I was tempted to try to talk him out of it, but I’d felt the smack of the ruler, and it wasn’t so bad. I’d just seem like a pathetic loser if I tried to wheedle my way out of something we both agreed I deserved.

My butt’s not calloused or anything but there is a lot of meat to it. I wasn’t too nervous about how much it’d hurt, just that it’d only been such a short time since I’d agreed to be a good slut. That and it was even more demeaning to be paddled with a ruler than simply hearing my brother call me names.

Rich sighed dramatically and got to his feet. I only knew that because I heard his bed squeak.

There was something so different about what he was about to do from what it’d been like when he’d helped me with the positions. It hit me what that was at the same time the ruler did.

It was a somber feeling instead of an upbeat playful feeling in the air. Rich hadn’t warned me or anything. He just whapped my butt and it felt like I’d been spanked with a ruler because I had. I didn’t make a sound. I didn’t even have to bite my lip or anything. I mean, it was a plastic ruler, so no big deal.

Sure, it had been on bare butt cheek, although Rich had whacked me on my nipples a bunch of times real fast before too, and that hurt way more. I didn’t even waiver but kept my butt positioned perfectly.

“That felt wrong, slut. What do you think?” Rich asked.

My first thought was, well duh. Of course, when I hear that, I’m going to agree it’s wrong and he shouldn’t do it anymore but really, it didn’t hurt at all and I was curious what he really meant.

Did it feel wrong for him to be punishing his big sister? Did he feel he shouldn’t be punishing me for not knowing something or misunderstanding something?

Or was he picking up on the weird, morose vibe that was so different from when I was learning the positions?

To be honest I think he’d whacked me harder in training, too. This had almost made me giggle in surprise.

“Yeah, it’s not fun, Sir,” I admitted, even as he popped me again on the other cheek.

“It’s not supposed to be fun, slut. It’s a punishment,” he said and whacked the alternate cheek again.

So it wasn’t that he was actually punishing me rather than encouraging me with the ruler. It still didn’t really hurt so I decided to find out what he had REALLY meant. What can I say? I was curious.

“What feels wrong to you, Sir?” I asked as he popped my butt again.

“It feels like I’m painting a fence with a Q-tip, I guess,” he said and whacked my butt again.

That was kind of hurtful, describing my butt as being as big as a fence. “Well you don’t HAVE to spank me, Sir. I won’t do it again,” I promised. His immediate reply was a whack to either cheek.

“Yeah I do. You know I do. I have to establish my dominance anyway, but you’re not even scared of the ruler. I think it’s because you see the ruler as a tool of positive reinforcement. I used it to help you get your positions right but using it to actually punish you is just not right.”

He’d continued swatting my ass while he talked and it was starting to get a little warm, now. Like the faintest of lingering hurt after you bump into something hard. Not actual real pain, but discomfort.

“Maybe I should use the back of the hairbrush? I know you brought it in to act as a cock, but we can use it for your punishment as well. It’s more bulky. Yeah, let’s do that. And you should count, too. Thirty swats with the hairbrush, okay, slut?”

“Hey, no! That would hurt! Sir!” I could only imagine how much more painful a hairbrush would be on my butt! The thought of him using that DID make me nervous.

“Did you just refuse me, slut? We could double it to remind you that I’m the boss of you, and you never get to say no to me,” Rich’s tone made it seem like he was getting into the idea more and more by the moment.

“No, Sir. I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it like that! I just thought ... no matter. Please give me thirty and I’ll count them for you, okay, Sir? I want to be punished but being whacked over and over with a hairbrush just SOUNDS scary!”

I’d pretty much babbled that out without thought but the idea of sixty whacks with my brush was too much to imagine. Thirty would be bad enough and I had agreed to do whatever Rich said, and I did feel guilty about screwing up, so jumping on the first opportunity to take the lesser punishment was the only option I could grasp at the moment.

I certainly DIDN’T want to be whacked with my own hairbrush at all but I had no choice. The frame is only made of plastic like my ruler, with a million bristles forming the oval brush part but the opposite side of where the bristles are, is a flat, smooth plastic area about three inches wide and closer to six inches long.

And it was comparatively heavy with a big round cylindrical handle also nearly six inches long. The handle is what we were going to use as a pretend dick. I hadn’t considered it as a paddle!

“That’s it, slut! Yes, that sounds right! You’re supposed to be scared of punishment so you won’t make the same mistake so quickly again!” Rich said in triumph, like he’d figured out the exact thing that had been wrong.

“Please don’t hit too hard, Sir,” I begged as he reached for the brush. Rich didn’t answer.

The next moment, I heard him swing it through the air. It made an audible swish noise that terrified me. Then he laid the cool surface on one butt cheek as if comparing it to the size of my bottom.

“Ready, slut? Don’t forget to count or I’ll have to start again. Is that clear? I need that pea-brain of yours to understand because I don’t want to have to paddle your butt all night.”

“Yes, Sir! I understand. I’m ready,” I said as if that really mattered.

The first strike really lit me up! Damn that hurt! I barely remembered to count ‘one’. I had no idea how I was going to survive thirty! But I knew I had to.

I think my pride kicked in at that point. I WOULD accept thirty despite how daunting the number sounded to my mind. I even thanked Rich.

“Whew! One, thank you, Sir,” I said.

“Are you going to be a good slut after this?” He asked.

Hell yeah! I thought to myself but actually said, “Yes, Sir!”

Rich blasted the other cheek.

“Two!” My voice pitched up an octave. I didn’t thank him. I wasn’t going to say anything more than I had to.

“How are you going to avoid being a dumb cunt in future?” He asked to punctuate the whack.

“I don’t know!” I screeched as he hit me again. “Three!” I bit my lip and tears filled my eyes.

“How about you ask questions when you’re not sure?” He suggested, then popped me again.

“Yes!” I agreed then added, “Four!”

That wasn’t fair, though. I hadn’t asked because I thought I HAD understood.

“So why didn’t you do that?” He asked and whacked my other butt cheek again.

“Five! I don’t know, Sir.”

“Yes you do, slut. Tell me,” he demanded and whacked me again.

All I could think about was making him happy with my answers so that he wouldn’t hit me so hard next time.

“Six! Because I’m a dumb slut!” I admitted, my voice catching. I had to be, right? I was getting paddled on my ass because I’m so stupid.

“Yes you are, slut. A single cell organism is smarter than you can be, sometimes, isn’t it? He asked and popped me another good one, making my whole body quiver.

“Dumb as a box of rocks, Sir!” I agreed, quickly followed by, “Seven!”

I couldn’t see properly anymore due to the tears in my eyes. That didn’t matter because I had them squeezed shut anyway.

His next target was where my thigh meets my cheek and I almost hit the ceiling when the brush made contact.

“Eight!”

The next two whacks were a blur. I was almost giddy as I anticipated each one and called myself a dumb sack of tits and ass and other things that I knew I didn’t really mean - but they felt fun to think.

I don’t know why, but all of a sudden I began to giggle. The laughter was getting me through the pain even though I didn’t really know WHAT was so funny.

Rich was unhappy with my reaction. My ass was throbbing and when he stopped the pain seemed to catch up to me, almost as if it had only been trailing behind the last whack of the hair brush.

“Why are you laughing? Are you laughing at me?” Rich said and hit me harder than ever, as if digging deep to do his best to push the hairbrush through my skin. He sounded really angry.

I didn’t know why I was giggling. I wanted to be crying because the hairbrush just hurt so much but everything was getting crazy in my head. An unimaginable thought occurred to me. Was getting spanked a good feeling or something?

It was almost as though I was riding a rollercoaster that went up when the hairbrush came down against my butt and shot down a big drop when the heat and the pain rippled through the skin and muscle of my butt to warm my whole body with a tingling like I’d never felt before.

I know I kept counting - I could hear myself just fine - but I just couldn’t explain to Rich that I wasn’t laughing at him. I didn’t know WHY I was laughing! It was almost as if I was outside my body watching the dumb slut that was me, get what she deserved.

Only almost. I was still feeling the hits but I felt I could take every one of them and enjoy the ride like this. I think Rich saw what was happening to me and he looked like something was dawning on him too.

He didn’t didn’t stop whacking my butt although he didn’t complain again about the noises and giggle-cries I was making. It finally clicked in my head what was so funny. I had my ear to the floor, my ass in the air and I hadn’t moved at all! What a dummy I was for not even trying to protect my butt! I didn’t change anything about my pose, though.

I can’t honestly say when the punishment ended. I know I was really starting to feel the pain in my ass again but at that point I knew I had more than ten swats to go. I just couldn’t do the math to figure out a countdown. It was enough that I could keep counting at all between the sobbing I was doing.

My next fully conscious recollection was being wrapped in Rich’s arms and he was petting my hair. I don’t remember how I got onto his bed or how I could have allowed myself to be wrapped up so intimately, especially since I was completely naked. My ass was on fire, but it felt wet.

“Did you ... you know...” I couldn’t bring myself to ask if what I was feeling was semen but since Rich is a butt pirate, he might have... “My butt is slippery,” I said accusingly, feeling it between us by sliding my fingers gingerly over the flesh of my butt cheeks.

“Aloe gel. I figured since it’s good for sunburn ... so I put some on you. You seemed to enjoy it, too. Then I comforted you. You were kind of out of it,” he said. That was the understatement of all time!

I pulled my fingers away from my butt and moved my hand on top of his. He was lightly cupping my boob, but it didn’t feel sexual, just reassuring. It was nice. Really nice.

I bit my lip as a thought occurred to me. “I didn’t say a color, though, did I?” I asked with worry in my voice. I remembered now that I’d started to try to recall what colors went into traffic lights so I could say the right one.

“Red? No. Not at all. You don’t remember? Were you thinking of quitting, slut?” Now Rich sounded nervous as if there really had been a danger of me quitting that he’d not considered.

“No, Sir! I just checked out a little about halfway through,” I admitted, not willing to tell him it was before he’d even spanked me ten times.

“I understand, slut,” he said but I knew he couldn’t understand. Not really. I didn’t understand and it had happened to me.

Another few moments later I had another thought. “Did I do okay, Sir?” I asked, not sure if it was even alright to ask that about a punishment.

“Wow, slut, you were amazing! Your ass got so red it turned almost purple. Doesn’t it still hurt?” Rich asked me as if it might have gone numb or something.

I was flattered that Rich had complimented me but I didn’t know how he could ask if my butt hurt. Of course, it did. It was on fire!

“Yes, it’s VERY sensitive right now, Sir. I don’t know if I’ll even be able to sit down at breakfast. I also don’t know if I can ever do that again, it hurt so much. I desperately wanted you to stop before you even got to ten,” I finally admitted.

[EddieDavidson]

“You know you could have said amber. That’s what it’s there for,” Rich admonished me quietly.

“I know, but I screwed it up the first time, so I promised myself I wouldn’t waste your time by doing that again,” I answered truthfully.

“Then how am I to know that you think you’re approaching your limits? If I’d gone just off your cries and your tears, I would have thought you’d reached your limit after the first two or three. Then I thought you were mocking me when you started giggling.”

“But that’s the whole point, isn’t it, Sir?” I tried to explain what had happened after I’d figured out the color I needed to say was amber. “I mean I kept thinking, one more and I’ll call amber, but I got so far I figured I could make it all the way through and I guess I did. At some point it stopped hurting quite so much, too,” I admitted as though I’d just revealed that it was me who’d stolen the last cookie from the cookie jar.

“Well now I’m doubly proud of you, slut. You used the rule perfectly. And who knows, maybe I’ll never need to punish you like that again?” Rich smiled at the idea as if he knew it wasn’t really possible.

“I hope not, Sir, but I wouldn’t hold my breath if I was you. I’m certainly not perfect although what you did right at the end, was. Even now, I feel so ... loved, I guess I’d have to say.”

I felt myself blushing, but I also felt driven to be completely open with Rich. If I was going to accept I was to be his slut for two weeks, I’d need to suck it up and get over myself anyway.

“I ... ummm I think I felt your thing against me just now,” I mumbled.

It could have just been the fly on his jeans that I’d felt pressing into my butt before I slid my fingers between us and had felt the aloe. Did doing that to me give you a boner?”

I couldn’t believe I’d just asked that! It’s something a sister should never know about her brother, especially if the sister caused that reaction. And he’s gay too! I think that’s why I decided to ask rather than pretending I hadn’t felt what I was sure I had.

Rich had admitted getting turned on seeing me naked but I wanted ... no I needed to know, if spanking me had turned him on separately from just seeing me naked. It would be something to ponder about if it did.

“Is that so bad? Am I an awful brother if I admit it was fun and made me hard?” He asked. He sounded defensive. “I’m not actually admitting you’re right, but if it was hard, does that mean you didn’t still deserve punishment?”

In my head, his words translated to, could I let him do the same thing again just because he enjoyed it, if it had in fact caused that reaction? My butt was burning, but I’d had that weird out of body experience that I didn’t understand and that was a little fascinating, almost enjoyable to me.

That thought led to an even crazier thought. Could I do something about his boner even though I’m his sister? He really has given his all so far, to working with me. But I knew I could never ask him if he’d let me do THAT and I chastised myself for even thinking things like that.

“For the next two weeks, I’m your slut, Sir. If you can’t bring yourself to discipline me when I mess up, I’m going to fail. If you enjoy it, I won’t be mad,” I assured him, hoping he’d take my answer in the spirit it was intended.

I snuggled for a few more moments then, without being told, I slid out from his embrace and into the Present position on the floor. I’d had enough time to recover from my well deserved punishment and I knew we had work to do before Rich would call it a night. I needed to get back to being Rich’s slut, not him being my cuddle bunny.

The moment I settled into position, I quickly lifted my butt off my thighs just a tiny bit so my cheeks weren’t being squished into the back of my lower legs and heels.

Owwwie! Luckily I kept my mouth clamped shut so Rich wouldn’t think I was complaining. But ooh boy! Was my butt ever going to be the same again?

“Okay, I suppose you’re right, it’s back to work,”Rich sighed as if convincing himself too. “But I’m the boss! You ask before you do anything, slut. Remember that!”

“Yes, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir. I just thought, it’s already after ten, and we’ve got school in the morning,” I justified my actions.

“Well, now that’s two things to remember, slut. Who’ll do the thinking for us?”

I knew immediately what he meant. “You do, Sir. Sorry again,” I said with a smile to show I wasn’t mad.

He was taking this game really seriously, and that’s a good thing. I’d meant what I’d said about needing his help and if he’d been only half committed like I might have been in his shoes, we would be screwed.

It’d still take some getting used to though, obeying my little brother but I’d learned two other things as well. First, he wasn’t dumb, and second. I had to stop thinking of him as my little brother but rather as my coach. A peer, not just a second-class member of the family. He’d certainly shown me that he wasn’t a second class anything as my butt kept reminding me.

“The second thing is that if you go to school tomorrow, you’ll be going just dressed in your undies and with a dunce cap on your head like in that movie we watched last month,” he grinned.

I knew what movie he was talking about. It was a comedy, and there was a scene where a guy woke up at school after getting drunk the night before due to a spiked punch at his friend’s party. In the movie he’d found himself waking up in the assembly hall in only his tighty whities and a great big white cone-shaped hat on his head with the word, ‘Dunce’ on it in big red letters.

Of course there was an assembly happening at the time, too. It was really funny watching it happen to him, but I would never have wanted to be in his shoes!

“What? You wouldn’t dare, Sir! Please don’t do that!”

I wasn’t sure if he’d really consider making me try to get to school in my underwear, hat, or no hat, but if it had just one result, it’d be to end his thoughts of bossing me around at school based on the agreement we already had. I’d get in so much trouble that the least result would be that he’d only be allowed to boss me around at home.

“Hello, slut. Earth to slut. It’s FRIDAY! If you head to school tomorrow you deserve everything you get!” Rich cracked up laughing and I felt about an inch tall. Then I giggled too. He was right about that!

We laughed together for a moment then Rich got serious again.

“I was thinking. About the amber thing. You said you thought about using it and you didn’t. That was perfect. But I’m not having you think it’s okay to use it just because you woke up on the wrong side of the bed and have a hair up your ass about something.”

“Okay, Sir. I understand. Does that mean you’ll punish me if I use the word?” I figured that’s what Rich was working up to, if he’d enjoyed spanking me.

I was already trying to resign myself to the idea that although the red and orange were our safety words, I’d still never be able to use them without major consequences. That was probably a good thing, though.

“I don’t want to punish you for carefully concluding you’re in too much pain. That would be a jackass move if you’re already hurting. No. I’d rather reward you for not using it when you wanted to. But I want to limit it more.”

I clearly heard the word reward and although there was not much I could think of that Rich could do to reward me, I liked the sound of it! I also didn’t know what he meant when he said he wanted to limit it, though.

He’d told me to call it out, tap my head or blink furiously if I needed to use it. Those sounded like the bare minimum already!

“I don’t understand, Sir,” I admitted.

“Of course you don’t. That’s why I’m going to tell you, slut. I’ll have to think on the reward part but what I meant by limiting it, is that it’s already limited to pain. You don’t get to call amber when I hurt your feel-goods. Sorry about your luck. I also think it should be limited to discovering your limits.”

“Okay, I thought we’d covered that. That’s its purpose, isn’t it?” I was confused that he needed to bring it up.

“I’ll give you an example. Tonight, I spanked your ass cherry red and more. It’s going to still be sore tomorrow. But you didn’t say amber. So, I know you can take thirty spanks with the hairbrush. If you were to get punished tomorrow with thirty swats, you shouldn’t be able to say amber, because you’ve already proved you can take it.”

I know my face lost its color. I felt a little sick. I couldn’t take another thirty swats right now! Another ten and I might be willing to say it!

“I ... I don’t know, Sir. You don’t know how sore my butt is right now. It was all I could do not to cry out when I got into this position and sat on my heels!”

“Yeah, I get that, slut. But you took thirty so I know that you can do it again in the future. I’m not saying I’d do it again to you while the pain’s still so fresh. That’d be like adding to a punishment that’s already been given.”

“Oh,” I said, relieved. “So, I can only say amber when you’re doing some new punishment?”

“Yeah, but not just punishment. Some of the things in the red pages are about tying a slut up and doing things with her asshole, pussy or other parts of her body,” he said. “That means you have to be able to endure them, and I don’t know how tight your ass is or how sensitive your nipples are. I need to find out. If you think I’m being too rough, you need to tell me, but keep in mind that there are minimum requirements to the pages,” he said, spreading his hands to express his dilemma.

Him saying that just made me want to see what was on those pages even more! I’d know without trying them, whether or not I would be saying amber. I didn’t need a fist up my butt to know I couldn’t take one!

“Can we study the pages together then, Sir? I will need to prepare myself mentally before I ever attempt things I’ve got to be able to do flawlessly in two weeks. I KNOW I WILL do them, but I need to know what to prepare for,” I promised.

And I had to get over the fear that was percolating inside me too. This list sounded scarier and scarier by the minute.

“Okay, but I have questions I’ll ask while we’re looking. And I liked having you up on the bed snuggled into me. So get that burned ass of yours back up here with the list,” he ordered.

I rose, picked up the list, then carefully moved back into his embrace without complaint, reminding myself over and over that I was just doing what I was told and there was nothing sexual about cuddling up to my brother.

I assured myself that some siblings cuddled all the time, and there was nothing sexual about it. The Russel twins were always holding hands, and no one at school ever accused them of being lesbians. They were just close sisters. I ignored the fact I was naked, and my nipples were again rock hard. The air was just cool in my brother’s room.

Rich put his head against mine so we could both see the pages he held with one hand. I could almost feel him breathing. He had no problem being pressed up against my side even though I was naked.

I needed to focus on the task at hand, not Rich’s hand casually cupping my boob as if there was no other place for it to go while he held me against his side. It didn’t help that the first section on the first page was devices and the next words read, ‘Torture toys - tits’. The words alone made me shudder.

“Whoa. Mr. J doesn’t know how to start a list subtly, does he, Sir,” I joked to cover my angst.

“Remember he said this list covers things a slut should be able to do once she’s been a slut around Jim long enough to learn all twelve positions. I imagine by that time, a slut’s usually been subjected to more than just this stuff, a few times over. So how tough are your titties,” he asked and then squeezed the one he was holding, as if kneading dough.

I hissed a little at how rough he was, but at least he didn’t have fingernails long enough to dig into my skin. I imagined that’s what it’d feel like if a sports masseuse was massaging a breast, and it was only the sudden squeezing that had caught me by surprise.

It didn’t really feel too bad. Kind of nice, to be honest, but I was also sure the nice would turn into not nice after a while if Rich didn’t let up. Those thoughts happened after another, purely instinctive realization hit me.

Oh God, my brother is squeezing my tits! I almost jerked away from his touch by pure instinct. I had to remind myself he wasn’t my brother. He was my coach, and he’d touched most parts of me already, while I was learning the first five positions. But he hadn’t manhandled me like he was doing now, either.

“That feels ... okay, I guess,” I admitted to Rich.

“How about this?” He said, releasing his grip and adjusting his fingers to squeeze my nipple until I let out a yip of pain.

“Sensitive!” I squealed but didn’t try to pull away even as he pulled my nipple away from my boob.

“For the demonstration, you’ll have multiple clothespins on your lovely udders, slut. These puppies surely are spectacular tits for your age, too. Have I said that before? None of your friends has a pair even close in size and yours are so plump, full and perfectly shaped. I like the tanline you swimsuit left, but I’d like to see a bikini tan line more. You know they’re almost as good as mom’s. I’d tell you if they weren’t.” He bragged.

It was uncomfortable hearing Rich say he’d spent time comparing my chest with my mom, but I already knew he had. I’d seen him do it. What I hadn’t known is that he had watched my friends’ chests too. Still, it was nice to hear him say he thought mine were the nicest of our group.

I already knew they were the biggest, but the nicest? He’d clearly never seen Megan’s bare, or Sarah’s either. Although hers are so small, she had to resort to a padded bra. Mine have been the bane of my existence since they’d started growing when I was eleven.

I’d never even started with a training bra. I went straight to an A-cup. Then after that, bras never seemed to fit perfectly until recently. And they are heavy too, lugging them around everywhere. But it was nice to have the verbal validation and not just jealous glances of the girls in the locker room at school that had made me reluctant to let mine be seen, even by my friends.

Rich released my nipple and moved his hand back to gently cupping my boob again. I sighed in relief. I could stand to have my boob cupped like that in his strong, large hand all night.

“It seems like I get to choose whether or not to put them on your nipples or just the areola and tit flesh on either side, leaving the nipple itself alone. But look at this,” he nodded to the page. “It says here, a row of clothespins are joined like a daisy chain with string, forming a chain of at least four and then they’re jerked free. That sounds like fun for me, but what’s the actual point?”

“Because it’s humiliating, degrading and might make me cry?” I suggested. “That seems to be the whole point of everything Mr. J does.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Rich said with a shrug like there was nothing wrong with Mr. J’s views. “We’ll do it tomorrow. Your funbags are big enough to hold six or eight each, I figure.”

“But you’ll start with just one or maybe two, right, Sir?” Having clothespins clamped to my boobs didn’t sound nearly as much fun to me as it did to Rich. But it was part of it, so I’d do it, even if I had to work my way up from just one on each boob.

“We don’t have proper nipple clamps either. You’ll have to be able to endure the alligator type ones for at least two minutes. But you’re a tough slut. I know you’ll be fine. I have some electrical clips in my science set. I’ll find them in the morning and we’ll use them.”

Rich clearly had more faith in me than I had. I was starting to think maybe reading through this list wasn’t so smart. It was just plain scaring me, and we were still on the boob section.

I kind of switched off at that point, comfortable enough just listening to the sound of Rich’s breathing, which was getting a little faster as he read about what I’d have to endure from instruments like a tawse, whatever that was, a flogger, which I could imagine and a cane, which made me gulp.

When we got to the next part, labeled, ‘Torture devices - cunt’, his hand moved off my boob and I felt his fingers exploring my privates, slipping between my labia as if he’d done that a hundred times. His confidence in exploring a region no man had gone before was in a way comforting. He’d touched me there before, but only briefly.

This time he was conducting a full on exploration and it was affecting my quite seriously.

“I can’t ... focus properly, Sir, while you’re doing that!” I gasped when his finger slid past my clitoris that had fully engorged and was peeking out from its hood.

Rich turned his head and whispered in my ear, “Shush, slut. I’m in control here, not you.”

It felt like he was gently blowing against my earlobe. The sensation was incredible. I shushed in case he stopped doing what he was doing. I was quickly turning to putty in his hands. It didn’t even bother me anymore that it was Rich doing it and not some super stud prince charming.

Then abruptly, Rich squeezed my clitoris, and I nearly passed out from the sensation. Rich hadn’t even explored my actual vagina at all. I didn’t care. Immediate overload! I think I came. I’m not exactly sure because I was busy quaking, and even my sore butt couldn’t stop me from bouncing almost off the bed. I know I called, “Oh God, yes!”

“That’s my good little slut. Cum all over my fingers,” Rich urged me as if he’d known exactly what he was doing. Gay guys still know what it takes to please a woman even if they’re not interested in them, I thought to myself.

“I am so going to hell, Sir!” I finally managed to croak. I felt so guilty – What I was doing with my brother was probably wrong on a biblical level.

“You don’t believe in God, slut,” he laughed, clearly pleased with himself. “But that’s your reward for not saying amber, before. I’ll figure out various ways to get you off when you’re a good slut, but I’ve decided you have to ask permission any time you want to make yourself cum.”

“Are you serious, Sir? You know girls don’t masturbate, right?” I sighed as I came back to earth. I’d said that to see if Rich would believe that little lie, one that it seemed all boys thought to be true.

“And girl farts don’t smell,” he smiled, knowing I was just teasing. “Together, those two rules will help you focus on acing the next test. If I catch you diddling yourself without permission, tonight’s punishment is going to seem like a light sampler! Is that clear, slut? Let me hear you say it,” he added, sounding completely serious now.

“No getting caught masturbating and you’ll make it happen as a reward for not saying amber,” I recited with a blush.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t get caught. I said I’ll do it myself or supervise it. You won’t do it at all without permission.” Say it!”

I said it, blushing even more at the rebuke and the humiliation of agreeing not to finger my privates. Privates that were not so private now that I’d handed the key over to Rich. Still I knew that I’d probably do it in private anyway. Rich would never know. That’s what bathrooms are made for. Other than the obvious, anyway.

We went back to looking over the pages. The first page just seemed to be all about a slut demonstrating she could take various tortures to her most intimate parts. Frightening things like binder clips on labia, although Mr. J called them flaps. He’s so crass! Other things like big objects - Mr. J wrote about cucumbers - pushed deeply into a slut’s vagina before being consumed with a dressing of pussy juice, which sounded both perverted and sickening. I hope it was okay to at least peel it first.

I’d never been tempted to taste my own excretions before so this would be a first. I didn’t tell Rich about that either, I just agreed that it wouldn’t be a problem even though it certainly would be!

There was a whole section on face tortures. Clamping clothes pins to the bridge of a slut’s nose, to pinch her nose shut or individually to each of her nostrils, lips, ears, and even her tongue. Biting while kissing - it being done TO the slut, not the other way around of course.

According to the document I was reading, A good slut would lick shoes and even feet, regardless whether or not they were clean. She would welcome spit being launched at her face and even directly into her mouth. She would lick balls while a cock was buried in her throat.

Many, many degrading, humiliating, and sometimes barely conceivable things I’d have to get used to, including consuming snot and boogers. That made me shudder! The section ended with a term I didn’t know, yet it turned up again later in the butt section as well. ATM.

I was pretty sure I wouldn’t have to puke money out of my mouth or butt, but knowing Mr. J, I very well might be expected to. He’d better be supplying the money for that! Rich said he wanted to surprise me with that one. He said I wasn’t even ready to hear it if I didn’t already know what it was. He said there was a whole porn ATM category on Pornhub’s website and we could study it later on.

Mr. Johnson wrote that good sluts liked having their hair pulled or used as reigns during sex, which I thought was so misogynistic coming from a man who’s probably never in his life has his hair pulled and funny, since mom is now kept bald.

The most terrifying thing on the page was where Mr. J went into detail about butts, like I said. The actual hole, I mean. Sluts didn’t just douche. They had enemas as part of their regular bathroom routine. I’d never done one. But that was just the beginning.

A slut’s butthole, he wrote, but in a far more disgusting way, has to be clean enough to eat out of and that statement was prefaced by what he called an edible enema. Fruit smoothies poured into a slut’s gaping butt hole then released and made into a meal. It just didn’t get more gross that that!

How did a slut even GET a gaping butt hole in the first place, though? I was sure mine was locked up as tight as Fort Knox when I wasn’t using it as God had intended. I was too afraid to ask Rich, but I was certain he’d know, that being how gay guys get off and all.

Instead of turning the page to study the tie up page - I’d seen glimpses of it and page three, about degradation already by this time because the pages weren’t on stiff paper and they kept drooping over until Rich had me share the job of holding the page up. His free hand had kept exploring, including my back passage - Rich said we’d come back to it in the morning after breakfast.

He bluntly told me it was time for bed and that we’d spend some time tomorrow studying page two and three, but we’d focus mostly on the first page.

Being told to go to bed was something I’m not used to. Even when mom was living here she hadn’t set a bedtime since I’d been thirteen. Now I was under Rich’s control. He thought nothing of telling me when to go to bed or that I was to sleep naked tonight. He said he’d wake me in the morning and pick out my clothes.

I’d slept in the nude a total of one time. The same night I’d gone swimming in the middle of the night. It had felt like the best way to finish a night of being naughty, but I’d woken with the sheet half off me, and that made me realize mom or dad could have caught me. I’d never done it again, just in case.

Now I was being told I HAD to. I certainly hoped dad wouldn’t get up earlier than usual on a Saturday and come in to get me for breakfast. It’d be his own fault though, I decided. After spending so much time naked around Rich and even Mr. Johnson, I was getting more comfortable with my body.

My dad would certainly freak out if he saw his little girl naked, though! It’d serve him right for coming into my room without knocking. Maybe I should sleep with no covers at all? The comforter had been pushed off the foot of my bed days ago anyway.

I’m not big on making my bed or tidying my room like Rich is. Why, when it’s only going to get messed up again anyway?

I still had to crawl back to my room after using the bathroom - only for the purpose God had intended, this time. Rich had greased his finger in my cream and had pushed it up my butt. I’d bitten my lip but said nothing. The only thing I discovered was it made me need to go number two even though I really didn’t need to go. That was an interesting discovery to make in the bathroom.

I slept facedown last night, but I did pull the sheet over me. I wouldn’t have been able to explain my butt to dad if he HAD come in to wake me, but as it was I was the first one up, even after a great sleep.

I was going to throw a robe on to go across to the bathroom but two things stopped me. Firstly, Rich. He was doing everything he could to get me comfortable in my skin. The least I could do was not fight him. The second reason was that I woke up from a dream, horny. Being horny makes me feel naughty.

For me, it’s notable that I was horny. I seem to go through cycles where I can go days without thinking of sex. I have schoolwork, friends, the latest movies, even clothes on my mind. This morning it was the red pages.

I’d had an erotic nightmare. I’d dreamed that Rich realized I couldn’t do the red pages using only toys and he’d admitted he couldn’t help me because he was gay. But he’d had a bulge in his pants! So in my dream I just crawled over to him, undid his pants and pulled his little erection out to show him I could use that. I would NEVER do that in real life!

That’s when I woke up. I’d been about to kiss the head of his penis and he pushed me, making me fall backwards and me falling is what ended the dream. In a way I was relieved to wake up because in my dream I’d been scared I’d like my gay brother’s penis. Awake, I knew the whole idea was just icky!

Although it had been just a nightmare, I felt guilty that I’d been dreaming of Rich’s boy dick and felt that I needed to make amends. So I did something I knew Rich would have wanted if he’d been with me right now. I snuck naked to the bathroom, peed then brushed my teeth real quick. Morning breath when Rich came to choose my clothes would have been really embarrassing.

I was still only half awake but I made it back to my room without getting caught. Once inside with the door firmly closed, I relaxed again. But what a rush! Dad could have come out at any moment and caught me! That made me think of my butt and what he would have said.

I was surprised that it didn’t even hurt anymore. I’d been worried as I fell asleep, how I was going to explain standing to eat breakfast!

I looked over each shoulder, trying to see my butt, but I’m just not flexible enough to get a good look. I tried to back myself up to my dresser but the mirror on it is set with an uptilt to reflect my upper body and face. I considered clearing the piles of stuff off my dresser and climbing up onto it before I had a better idea.

I pulled out my smartphone! The camera autofocuses so my only problem was holding it steady behind myself and still being able to hit the shutter button.

The first few were still really blurry but I got better at it. It was kind of cool to see my butt from all sorts of new angles and I was getting into it, thinking of myself as a model - only in my room, though. I have no aspirations of being a real model.

I had another idea and I was bent at the waist with the phone held between my as-spread-wide-as-possible-legs, ready to take a picture of my upside down butt including the hole I could see for the first time ever - my own butt hole, when Rich walked in without knocking. He could have been dad!

“What are you DOING, slut? He asked with a grin - the what was clear, it’s the why he was asking about.

I snatched the camera back and straightened up, blushing furiously.

“I wanted to see how much damage you did last night, Sir. I thought I’d be black and blue but it’s just a little pink and there’s just a few faint bruises,” I admitted, embarrassed, with something approximating disappointment in my voice.

“Well duh. I could have told you that. It was only a mild spanking.”

“Mild? He called what I went through mild? I bet HE’S never been spanked before!

“I couldn’t even touch it last night, Sir! Then this morning it didn’t hurt anymore so I was using my phone to take pictures to check for damage I couldn’t see directly.”

“That’s pretty smart, slut. I was beginning to think one of your few remaining brain cells had died but you surprised me with such a creative solution to an unusual dilemma. You ARE smart,” he gushed, really laying it on thick - but it was nice of him and made me feel quite proud.

“Thank you, Sir. I was blushing again but this time in pride.

“The problem is, you didn’t wait to ask permission. I could have taken your picture if you’d asked.”

He didn’t say any more, and just looked at me waiting for me to apologize. I didn’t. After an uncomfortable silence, I filled it.

“You weren’t here and I didn’t want to come wake you up,” I defended myself.

“That’s an excuse, which is just like an asshole. Everyone has one. I imagine you got to see your own with that phone just now, too?” He asked with a smirk.

“Yes, Sir,” I blushed.

“You know I should by rights punish you this morning. Another thirty swats with the hairbrush?”

I paled immediately. He couldn’t, not in the morning when Dad is sober!

“Dad is either awake or about to be, Sir! He’ll hear and come in!” I said, frantic to convince Rich not to make me bend over for another thirty.

I wasn’t even considering the pain I’d feel. I was more terrified of dad catching us.

“I said I SHOULD punish you but you had such a good idea about taking pictures of your training, you’ve earned a reward that offsets the punishment you were due.

“So I won’t be spanked?” I asked, feeling the humiliation of having to ask for clarification that my brother was taking pity on me.

“What did I just say, cocksleeve?” He asked menacingly, the derogatory name making me feel humbled the way the name slut had, when he and Mr. J had first used it. The way it still sometimes does, to be honest.

“Don’t call me that please, Sir,” I begged. To me, it was a particularly nasty word like cunt and I am NOT my mom.

“Look, slut. It’s my job to toughen you up. I HAVE to call you the nastiest, cruelest things I can think of so that you don’t start getting upset and screw up the second Jim calls you names in a couple of weeks. I plan to work with you a lot on that too, but for now it’s enough for you to thank me for letting you exchange future pictures and video clips of your training for a well earned punishment.”

Hold on, did Rich just say he’d be taking pictures and video for the whole two weeks of training? Why? What if they leaked out at school? I’d be expelled! Rich must have read my mind.

“We’ll only use your phone, so it’ll be your responsibility for keeping all pictures and video safe but we’ll be able to regularly review them together so you can learn from mistakes you make, but can’t see yourself making.”

Rich’s explanation made a lot of sense and I DID feel better about being able to protect something so potentially dangerous to me ... well to both of us. And I really was relieved I wouldn’t get spanked, either.

“Thank you, Sir” I said, absolutely meaning it.

“Full sentences, slut. Jim might hear you say thank you and not realize what you’re talking about if he’s not a hundred percent focused on you - and do you really think he would be? He doesn’t pay attention to Cunt half the time and she’s his. Also, you sound even dumber when you don’t use whole sentences as much as you can. Try again,” Rich ordered.

I had said a whole sentence. I wanted to correct my brother for saying I hadn’t, but I got his point and he was just trying to help.

“Thank you for not spanking me and for recording my training for us to review, Sir,” I said, hoping it’d be enough.

“Fine. That’ll do. But remember to do that every time. I don’t want to have to punish you just for not answering a question properly, right?” He laughed as if he’d be embarrassed to have to.

“Yes, Sir. I’ll remember to answer as fully as I can all the time now,” I said to confirm that I understood.

[EddieDavidson]

“Okay. So I’m going to get some pictures of you now, from all angles. Then I’ll dress you, and after breakfast we’ll do a warm up with the positions you already know, before we review page two of the red pages,” my brother said and he did exactly that.

All I had to do was stand still with my hands on my head at first, then by my sides while he photographed me. I felt like I was on a pedestal and at the same time like I was life support for two boobs, a slit, and two big butt cheeks. It was still embarrassing having my picture taken, especially naked, but even if I’d been fully dressed I wouldn’t have enjoyed it. Rich was so clinical during the shoot. It was strangely arousing how brusque he was being about it.

He used my phone and took pictures of me from the front, the side and the back, sometimes uttering sounds of displeasure, other times, appreciation. It was over in less than five minutes, so I didn’t have a chance to get too humiliated.

But then he took more pictures of me getting dressed in the clothes he gave me, and that was a whole new level of humiliation, especially when he threw a pair of panties or a bra at me to put on and judged them inappropriate. Each time he’d snap a picture. I hoped he’d share with me what was actually wrong with the growing pile he’d pulled from my dresser drawers.

All I could do was watch my brother going through my undies - undies only dad had ever seen when he did our laundry - or girls in the locker room at gym class - but then I’d never posed for any of those girls either. I was always in a hurry to put my outerwear on.

I was finally dressed in a skirt and top I’d never worn before. I’d bought them while out shopping with my friends, basically so I could show them I COULD buy them. I’d never planned on actually WEARING them though.

My basic everyday wardrobe had, until this morning, consisted of jeans, a few pairs of long shorts and baggy tees, footies and tennis shoes or flip flops. I dress casual.

This shirt was tight and had a plunging neckline that showed a good portion of my frilly lace bra and a ton of cleavage. The look was really common on the street, but not for me because I was always trying to disguise my boobs. This top was a man catcher top. That’s what my friends had called it.

The hippy skirt hung low on my hips leaving about two inches of bare skin around my midriff. It was long, almost to the floor long, and voluminous, but had two features. The first was that it was thin cotton. It didn’t show anything unless in front of a light, then it became really sheer. It also had a split that went high up on my thigh. Really high. Miniskirt high. But because it was so voluminous, no one ever had to know the split went so high, unless they saw me seated.

The problem was the panties I had underneath it. They were a T-bar type designed to sit high on my hips. The waistband of my skirt sat low, so anyone looking at me would know what color my panties were and that they weren’t covering most of my cheeks. I may as well have been wearing a full on thong.

“Do you need to use the bathroom yet, slut? I thought you would have said something by now,” Rich asked in a way that caught my attention. I just knew he had something on his mind.

“No, Sir. I used the bathroom when I first woke up. Why? Should I be asking permission now?” I joked, expecting him to laugh.

“As a matter of fact, that’s another great idea. You’re full of them, this morning! That spanking last night must have shaken something good loose in your head!”

“I was joking, Sir!” I promised him. I hadn’t needed permission since I’d been a kid!

“You already have to ask the teachers at school, so why not? Just tell me what you need to do and I’ll set a timer. We’ll synchronize them, so you’ll know how long you have,” he said excitedly as if he was imagining secret squirrel stuff.

I wished right then that I’d kept my mouth shut!

“I just tell my teachers if I need to use the bathroom, Sir,” I corrected him. Maybe since he was two years behind me, he still had to get permission.

“Not anymore,” he said, as if saying it would make it true. I wasn’t ten years old, and I wasn’t going to ask my teacher if it was okay to go potty!

“What do you mean, not anymore, Sir?” I asked, a little miffed now.

“What’s Jim’s top rules? Do you still remember any of them?” He asked, arching his eyebrows.

“Yeah. Number one. Sluts are naked in his house. Number two. Ask for everything. Number three_” Rich cut me off.

“You missed one. His top THREE rules are to be naked, don’t throw tantrums and ask for everything. You think the rules are in random order? You think one isn’t as important as the others? Yet you keep doing stuff without asking! You’ve got to get that simple rule through your thick skull, you stupid twat! Think of it as extra free training. Just fucking ask the teacher if you can take a dump, damn it! If my spies tell me you didn’t, you’re going to get twice what you got yesterday or in a far more sensitive place than your thick ass!” Rich sounded truly angry!

“I’m sorry, Sir!” My voice rose in pitch in response to his anger. “I’ll ask, I promise!”

“Finally! But damn, slut, why are you fighting me every step of the way! I’m trying to HELP you here!” He said and the frustration in his voice was so thick it could have been cut with a knife.

I felt bad. Really bad. All because I tried to fight him about asking the teachers at school to use the bathroom and I can make sure I NEVER have to, in class. Anyway, it’s certainly no big deal if I did. Just embarrassing. But I’d sound more polite than I already am, that’s for sure.

Especially since Rich is already thinking about having me tell him whether I plan to go number one or number two then timing it! Do I think he really would do that? With Rich, quite possibly. And I’d complain, get punished and then do it anyway. So I’ll just do it. But I’ll always say it’s going to be a number two so I’ve always got plenty of time!

“I’m sorry for being so difficult, Sir. It’s just all this...” I waved my hands around while looking for a word to describe all the sudden rules, being naked about as much as I’ve been dressed lately, even seeing mom suck a dick, having to make an appointment to even see her...

Mom. The reason I’m doing this. I was getting so caught up in pleasing Rich that I’d lost sight of the REASON for pleasing my brother. I mean, it’s not a bad thing that I wanted to do it, but there’s a goal at stake. Time with mom.

“ ... all these changes, Sir. It’s harder than I expected,” I finished my original thought lamely.

“I know, slut. It’s hard for me too,” he said in a much calmer voice that made me feel bad all over again.

I was making Rich do so many grown-up things that he clearly wasn’t ready for. But I couldn’t stop now. WE couldn’t stop now. The extra time with mom was too important. I’d just have to go easier on him. Give him some extra leeway. Be more understanding of the pressure I was putting him under.

The least I could do was to encourage him whenever he made a new rule even if I thought it was silly. If there was one thing I had to give Rich credit for, it was always seeming to know what Mr. Johnson expected. Even asking the teacher for a bathroom break rather than telling them where I was going, was a really good idea.

I heard dad yell up the stairs, asking if we were both up and to come down to breakfast. He must have heard us up and about and that’s why he hadn’t come upstairs personally. What would we have told him if he’d seen Rich in here when I was still naked or even in just a bra and panties?

How would we have explained Rich taking pictures? I kept tuning dad’s presence out and it was going to bite us in the butt sooner or later if we weren’t more careful.

Rich nodded his head towards the door in the universal symbol for, ‘move it’, but then himself moved instead of waiting for me to lead the way.

I asked him to wait a moment. “Can I ... can I give you a hug before we head downstairs, Sir. You’re being so good to me. Putting up with so much of my silliness, and I haven’t really thanked you properly for that,” I said.

A hug wasn’t much, but it was all I had to offer.

Rich really hugs tight! His one hand on my butt and the other high on my back crushed my whole body against him. If he hadn’t been gay, it would have felt sexual. Especially when he held and held it, for maybe as much as half a minute.

Rich must really have needed the validation I’d offered. I could definitely respect that.

“We’re gonna hug a lot, slut. That was nice,” he said when he released me, put his hands on either side of my head and pulled my head down to kiss my temple with a loud, ‘muwah’ sound like he was Aunt Tracey. It made me smile because he is shorter than me and would have looked to anyone watching, as cute as it was.

“You going out today, Erin?” Dad asked when he glanced up from the pan where he was scrambling eggs to go with the bacon already in a separate pan. He’d quickly noted my unusual outfit.

“Maybe. Don’t know yet. What about you? Any hot dates lined up for today?” I joked while knowing he didn’t.

Dad’s too much of a pussy to get back to dating. Once burned, twice shy, and all that. He’d told us as much one night. Waiting for mom to come to her senses and come home. The funny part was that I don’t think mom wouldn’t have minded him dating at all, but he just seemed to want to stay home and drink.

“Maaaaaybe,” was his surprise answer.

“What? Who? I demanded angrily. How dare dad do something unpredictable!

“Go Dad!” Rich added.

“Nah. Just ... one of the girls I work with is having a housewarming get together this afternoon. Everyone from work will be there. You’re both invited too,” dad said it like a question he hoped we’d say yes to.

Rich answered for both of us. “Nah. It’s a health hazard having too many old folks in the same room as teenagers. Anyway, we’ve got a project I’m helping with,” he said, moving his hand between himself and me.

“Oh, okay. Far be it for me to stand in the way of school projects.” Dad accepted Rich’s explanation at face value, not even asking what the project was and automatically assuming it was for school.

He paused for a second, thinking, before carrying on. “You know I’m really proud of you both. The last few months had to have been hard on you. But there’s light at the end of the tunnel. I AM going to do this housewarming. Cheryl is nice and divorced, so at least I can commiserate with her,” he said as if making a final commitment.

“What time does it start?” Rich asked. It sounded like a casual question, but I know how he thinks. He was wondering when we’d get the house to ourselves.

After breakfast we casually headed upstairs, me following Rich. He walked straight into my room, and I followed him and closed the door.

“Go to my room and get the ruler, hairbrush, and red pages please, slut,” Rich told me as if used to bossing me around. I couldn’t even argue that he hadn’t used the magic word. “Oh, and in my top drawer I have a special present for you. It’s a collar. Grab that too, thanks,” he added.

I nodded and turned to do his bidding.

“Hey, slut. Do you have something in your mouth?” He asked as I was reaching for the door.

“No, Sir. Why?” I asked, wondering what he meant.

“You didn’t answer me when I gave you an order, and I just wondered why not. I thought your mouth was full or something.”

“No, Sir,” I said with a blush. It was a humiliating rebuke. “I’m sorry, Sir. I’ll just go get the ruler, brush, red pages and ... collar.” The last item was also embarrassing, knowing I’d soon be wearing it. He’d said it was for me.

When I went into his room and opened his top drawer, I took a sharp intake of breath. The collar was where he’d said it would be, but it was used, not brand new like I’d expected, the leather soft and a little scratched. The buckle looked a little different, as though it could be padlocked, and there was a ring attached to it like a dog collar would have for a leash. But that’s not why I gasped.

There was a butt plug in there and some other things but one of them was an actual dildo with fake balls and a suction cup on the end so it could stick to things.

I’d never realized my brother was so sexually experienced! I never even knew he had a boyfriend! Nothing was in packages, so they’d probably been used. I wondered if my brother had used the butt plug himself or if he’d only used it on his boyfriend.

Either way, I knew I would eventually bring it up. I had to know more! Most importantly, I needed him to reassure me he wouldn’t tell his boyfriend about what we’d already done and what Rich was going to see me doing over the next couple of weeks.

If he did, his boyfriend might put a stop to it, and I needed Rich’s help. I bit my lip, wondering if I should grab all the sex toys and take them to my room with the other stuff. Rich knew I’d see them. He’d told me to get the collar. Maybe he was just too shy to tell me to bring them too?

No. Rich wasn’t the shy type, like me. He would have just told me to bring everything if he’d meant for me to. At least now I knew why he wasn’t bothered by the things that’d been on page one of the red pages. He already had stuff I could use on myself!

I wasn’t completely comfortable with the idea myself, though. The dildo and butt plug had probably been up some boy’s butt. I picked up the fake penis with its fake veins, and it wobbled and bent just like I imagined a real dick would.

I cautiously sniffed it. It only smelled of rubber - probably latex even though I don’t know the difference. Still, knowing Rich was gay and that it wasn’t in its original packaging meant it’d already been in some guy’s butt.

Later on in the next two weeks, I’d be using a secondhand butt plug and dildo. And the things were massive. Like a real pornstar’s dick. My dream came back to me. If Rich’s dick was as small as I’d dreamed, he would surely feel inadequate using that thing!

I dropped the fake dick back into the drawer, took the collar, snatched up the pages, ruler, and hairbrush that were sitting right on his nightstand for anyone to see, then hurried back to my room.

“Did you crawl, Slut?” He asked when I’d closed my door. He was sitting on my unmade bed.

“No, Sir! Dad’s right downstairs!”

“You have to get used to crawling as much as you can, slut. I didn’t want to make it a rule, but I will if you don’t even try. Come on, get your shit together, dummy!”

“Yes, Sir, sorry, Sir,” I said and immediately dropped to my knees so I could crawl the two steps over to Rich and present him with the items I’d brought.

“Just leave the ruler and brush on the nightstand and put the collar on. I just want the pages, right now.

I refused to meet Rich’s eyes as I tried to don the collar. It was too embarrassing. But I couldn’t figure out the buckle and had to ask for help.

I held my hair out of the way while Rich expertly put it on me. “Actually, you shouldn’t be putting it on yourself unless I tell you to anyway,” he said while testing its fit.

It felt weird having it on, too. Especially when Rich looped his finger through the rind and pulled me within an inch of his face. I thought he was going to kiss me!

Instead, he pulled his own head back, looked into my eyes with a fierce intensity, and asked me how it felt to be a collared slut.

I shivered from his words. I was my brother’s submissive slut! The collar actually made me FEEL submissive. It was both uncomfortable and comforting at the same time. I can’t explain it.

“I ... I don’t know. I feel a little creeped out, but at the same time, it’s like I needed the collar to put me in the right mindset. I just need to get used to it, I guess.”

I expected him to tell me to strip, but he didn’t. Instead he grinned as if I’d said the right thing, then patted the bed next to himself. I scrambled up next to him so I wouldn’t have to dwell on the collar business.

Rich just smiled at my enthusiasm and hugged me to his side before turning his attention to the pages.

They’d been stapled together, but the staple was in the bottom right corner instead of the top left. I didn’t know why Mr. Johnson had done that but I’d automatically handed them to him upside down. He turned them around the right way and folded page one over, to get to page two.

Bondage, it said, in bold letters.

It was quite surprising to me that the bondage page didn’t frighten me all that much. Mr. Johnson talked more about different kinds of ropes and things that could be used, and that was boring. A rope is a rope, a bracelet or an anklet is a bracelet or an anklet.

There was a small section at the top that was interesting, because Rich and I had just done it. I was wearing Rich’s collar. The red pages had stuff about a slut offering her collar to a man.

What slut carries around a collar just in case! But the interesting part was that a slut isn’t supposed to put her own collar on. She’s supposed to offer it and have someone put it on her as a sign of submission. In my case it was because I couldn’t work the darned thing! But I wouldn’t have to learn to do right it if someone else has to.

Being tied up and helpless squicked me out a little but mostly because of the helpless part. I’d gone through a phase where I was always wearing bangles and jelly bracelets, so that when I saw the part about wrist and ankle cuffs - that’s what he called them - I understood why cops called handcuffs that. Only they don’t cuff a person’s hands. They should be called wristcuffs!

Anyway I didn’t know it’s completely different to cuff a person’s hands together in front of them, behind them or even over their heads and behind their knees. I was kind of excited to try being cuffed.

I briefly imagined being cuffed and led around somewhere public, being bound but no one knowing, because the restraints were covered and hidden away. That was a bit of a turn on.

I didn’t know if I’d like having my boobs tied up or my privates cinched down. That sounded like it’d hurt. I also didn’t know about being tied up and punished when I hadn’t even done anything wrong, but Mr. Johnson seemed to think it’d be fine to have that demonstrated because he’d put it right there on the red pages.

Mr. J had already talked about hair being used as reins in the first page, but he went into more detail on this page. It was like there was a whole little world where hair featured in bondage. I REALLY didn’t understand why he’d shave mom’s head, now, if getting puke on it was enough to make him remove it.

It’s like he was denying himself a bunch of stuff with mom and that didn’t seem like something Mr. Johnson would do. That’s when I caught myself. I was feeling sorry for Mr. Johnson! These are real women he’s subjecting this treatment to, and my mom was one of them.

“Do you think he made mom do this very same stuff years ago, Sir, or do you think he wrote these more recently?” I asked Rich.

“I’d say this is really old, tame stuff. He probably made mom practice in her room, on her own while dad was at work, as recently as last year,” Rich said.

The way he said it was as though it was no big deal but she might have been practicing while WE were home! I couldn’t imagine being in my room doing homework while right next door, mom was trying herself up. One of us could have walked in on her. She’d never do that.

“I don’t think she’d ever do that, Sir. It’d be too easy to get caught,” I reasoned.

“Whatever,” Rich said, then changed the subject. “You sound more fascinated than worried about this stuff,” he noted.

I just shrugged my shoulders next to him. “I guess I watched too many cartoons as a kid with Penelope Pitstop being tied to train tracks. It doesn’t feel like that big of a deal, I guess, Sir,” I replied.

“We’ll see,” he replied ominously. “You might like it more than you think, huh?”

“That’d be a big negatory, Sir. But compared to the other stuff, this is easy. All I’ve really gotta do is BE there. It’s the next page I’m worried about.”

“Hold on, let’s see,” he said, then flipped to the last page. “Humiliation. Well, all you gotta do is be there for that, too!”

“I have to accept all these humiliations without going postal on everyone,” I smirked.

“If I’m the one doing the presentation with you, then I’m the one who’s got to do the work, here!” He laughed. “You’ve got the most perfect tits ever, and I have to make fun of them. And your cunt, your asshole, even your EARS, slut. How easy do you think that’s going to be for me?”

“Okay, Sir. You have a point. But do you really think I have nice boobs? Better than mom’s?”

“These are MY hooters now, slut,” he said, gripping one and squeezing it through my shirt and bra. “Of course, they’re better than someone else’s!”

It wasn’t really what I was hoping he’d say, but that wasn’t it. Finding my boobs nice just because he was the boss of me, isn’t the same as just thinking of them as perfect. I wanted more compliments, not just a statement of ownership and a squeeze. Although my nipples reacted anyway.

“Hey, look at this one,” he said, changing the subject again with a laugh. “Ever had your head in a toilet before?”

I just turned my head and looked at the side of his. Was he kidding?

I think I’ve figured Rich out. He really is enjoying the humiliation aspect that Mr. J has introduced him to. Any normal teenage boy would have flipped out over seeing two girls naked, even if one of them was his mom and the other, his sister.

Yet he didn’t care about that, because he’s gay. What he enjoys is demeaning another person, and especially me, because I’m his big sister, a person who’s always been higher on the food chain than him. And I basically asked him to.

He’s been really good about it, considering Mr. J has tried to make him hate me, for whatever reason. Maybe Mr. J was abused by a woman, I don’t know and I don’t care. What I care about is Rich, and he somehow manages to let me know he loves me even when I’m acting like a spoiled brat.

It’s clear he enjoys belittling me because I’ve given him the power to do it. I had to, but he’s not letting it go to his head like he could have. He’s just not accepting my traditional sort of behavior now, as my spanking last night proved.

If I act out or do something he doesn’t approve of, it’s me who’ll get in trouble, not him. So he’s making the most of the opportunity that’s been handed to him. I guess you could say it’s a good deal for both of us. And I’m learning a lot about myself, too.

For example, I did not think I could do almost all of what I’ve done in the last few days, and it’s because of Rich that I’ve been able to get through it. He’s been my rock, my support, and my biggest fan.

All he wants in return is the power to demean and humiliate me. Of course he hasn’t SAID that but it’s obvious to me that since he’s gay, seeing it happen and the opportunity to humiliate me himself are the only things in it for him.

“Hey, earth to slut, come in, slut. Have you or not?” Rich asked again, turning his head to see me looking at him in consternation.

He’d asked as if there was any possibility I’d ever chosen to accept a swirly before - that’s when you put a kid’s head in the toilet and flush it. I’d never done it or had it done but I knew WHAT it was.

“No! Of course not. That’s just nasty, Sir!”

His face dropped as though I’d just told him I was quitting. At least, I hoped that’s how he’d look if I ever said that. I wouldn’t of course. This was becoming too important to me to give up now.

I quickly reassured him. “I don’t WANT to do it, and if I could get out of doing it, I would. But I’ve got to do it, so I’ll suck it up and I will do it when the time comes. That doesn’t make it any less gross, Sir.”

“Even though you’ll be humiliated?” He asked with hope in his voice.

“Even though,” I promised him, wondering where I was going to find the strength to do something so ... wrong.

“You know your problem is that you think too much, slut. If you could turn off your mind, it wouldn’t be so bad. But I think it’s so brave of you to say you’ll do something you don’t want to,” Rich said.

I’d never been encouraged in such a bass-ackwards way before. Rich was praising me for being brave while telling me I needed to be a dumb slut at the same time. Yet funnily enough, he was right. It would be an act of bravery to allow someone else to do something so cruel to me. And if there was anyone I’d want it to be making me, it’d be Rich.

“You know I will have to do it a few times to see how you react and to be sure you’ll go through with it when the time comes.”

“I’ll do it already, Sir! I told you that,” I insisted.

“What you say and what you do aren’t always the same, slut. I’m going to get you to the point where that’s gonna seem like just nothing to drop your head in a toilet on command. But you’re going to have to get used to purposeful humiliation, and just calling you cow tits is difficult for you to deal with right now.”

“I got used to being called a slut,” I reminded him.

“Yeah you can do it, but not easily. That’s why it’s what we’ve got to work on most, other than going through the general sex stuff to make sure none of that’s going to be an issue in game day.”

[EddieDavidson]

“I’m never going to get used to being humiliated, Sir.”

“Then you’re looking at it all wrong. Do you even know the difference between humiliation and humility? If you learn humility, no one can humiliate you because they’re only doing something to make you feel stupid. But you’re not stupid, are you, slut?”

Rich has already CALLED me stupid too many times to ask that. It was clear he THINKS that I’m stupid. But now he’s asking if I think I’m smart? Well that’s an opportunity too good to miss to remind him I know what I am!

“Yes, Sir. I AM smart!”

“So tell me, miss smart slut, how would dad react if you went back downstairs without a bra or panties on right now. Would he make a scene and humiliate you?”

“I can’t go downstairs naked, Sir! Dad would ground me until I am eighteen! He made mom choose Mr. J over us for less!” I blurted before thinking.

But in a way it WAS less. Mom wasn’t rubbing her relationship with the neighbor in his face, as far as I knew.

“That’s not what I said, slut. We were talking about humiliation versus humility. I was asking if I ordered you to remove your underwear and go downstairs to get me a soda dressed only in that top and a skirt, would you be humiliated if you were doing it?”

“So I’d be completely covered? As much as this top covers anything, that is.”

“Uh huh. I’m asking because dad is humble. I think he wouldn’t say a thing even if he noticed. Mom was a slut for eight years and he didn’t say a thing till recently, really,” Rich reminded me.

“Dad’s a pussy,” I spat. I’m still angry that dad had made mom choose, even though it must have been hard for him to do. “But I’d do it, no problem, Sir,” I assured my brother.

“Why? He’d see your tits bouncing around, threatening to fall out of that top if they weren’t supported by a bra.”

“I wouldn’t let them fall out, Sir. I’d only be embarrassed if they did.”

“So it’s not wearing the top that bothers you, but falling out of it. You don’t want him to see those amazing funbags pop out. That means you’re proud of having such fantastic jugs but too proud to show them off to dad who doesn’t deserve to see them. Humility versus humiliation. Only prideful sluts can be humiliated.”

Rich’s assessment stunned me. I’d never considered myself overly prideful but I guess I am. Still, I didn’t want dad seeing my boobs. It wouldn’t be right, and he’d still ground me.

“So how do I stop being so prideful, Sir?” I asked quietly.

“You have the same problem mom had, slut. She gave up the last of her pride when she moved in with Jim. You need me to stop you from being a stuck up bitch, and you’ve been pretty good at that so far. But there’s so many things your pride gets in the way of. Toilet water isn’t going to hurt you, but you called it gross. Maybe after you get back with my soda, we should go to the bathroom together so you can apologize to the toilet water for calling it gross?”

What? Where does Rich GET this stuff? Apologize to the toilet? That sounded so stupid! I wouldn’t do it! Then I realized what Rich was doing. He was testing me. The toilet water wouldn’t laugh at me. Only Rich would ever see me do it.

The question was, could I live down RICH seeing me do it? Could I talk to an inanimate object as if it were alive, in front of Rich? It’d be so humiliating. No, it’d be humbling. That’s why Rich suggested it. And he’d be right. I am full of myself. I need to prove to myself as much as Rich that I’m not too stuck up.

“That’s a good idea, Sir,” I finally replied.

“Then lose the bra and panties. I’m going to get dad used to seeing you bounce around inside your tops.”

“How’s one morning supposed to help me become more humble, Sir?

“Each day I’m going to find something a little more daring for you to wear in front of him. On Monday morning you’ll be going to school in a sheer top with your nicest bra on, then Tuesday it’ll be back to no bra with an opaque top.”

That’d be wrong on so many levels, Sir! First, dad would flip out of I wore a top like that, then refuse to allow me to wear it to school. Then I’d get sent home for not meeting the dress code.”

I dare anyone at school to punish you for not wearing what women around the world call a torture device. Mary Walls didn’t wear a bra the other day and they were fine with it.”

“But she’s a small B, not an FF-cup! She could get away with it!” I was so wound up I forgot to call Rich, Sir. He jumped all over that omission.

“Listen to yourself, slut! Do I forget to address you as slut or bitch or cunt? No! You’re so caught up in your own pride that remembering your position is not even important to you! You ARE my slut, and you follow my orders. You just earned yourself another punishment. But first, get me a soda, whore!”

A little part of me shriveled up at his tone and his words. I WAS being a self centered bitch. But Rich just didn’t understand how impossible what he was saying would be to do! Dad would never allow it. I apologized and told him what I thought.

“Dad will only take so much, Sir. He won’t let me leave the house in a top that shows my bra. He definitely won’t let me leave the house without one.”

“Then you have to convince him you’re sick of being judged by people with no right to,” Rich smiled at that and I think it was because HE judged me all the time, now.

“But I still have to punish you. I just can’t, until later on. If dad’s still in the kitchen when you go down, tell him you’re taking a stand and if he doesn’t like it, he can go to hell. I know you want to again anyway.”

“Riiiich, Sir. Please. I can’t DO that,” I whined.

“You just don’t WANT to do that. The difference is I’m not giving you a choice. I’m making you stand up for yourself against dad,” he said.

Rich’s pep talk really did help. I felt empowered to stand my ground against dad.

When I stood up to take off my top so I could remove my bra, I actually did a little teasing. After I slid the straps off my shoulders and pulled my arms out, I popped first one boob out of its cup then the other and then I used the bra itself as a shelf to present my boobs to my brother.

I even pinched my nips a bit to make them really hard. I think I teased myself more than my brother but he seemed to enjoy the performance I was putting on for him as much as it was arousing me.

I started to just wish he wasn’t gay and would instead demand I worship his dick. I even imagined him being rude to me while he did it. Our conversation about humility versus humiliation was making me want to explore my own desires even though he is my brother.

To be honest, I’m starting to care less about us being siblings and more about what he, as a guy, has between his legs. He’d admitted he’d been hard before, watching me, so it shouldn’t be such a big deal for me to tell him I want to see his dick. But how does one bring THAT up in conversation?

Especially after how shocked he was when he’d thought I had wanted to see him naked, and I didn’t even want that, then. I’d kind of burned a bridge there.

I’d already slipped my skirt off for him and was rolling my panties down my recently shaved legs when I had another idea.

“Sir? What do you think dad would do if I was clearly aroused when I went into the kitchen?”

“Probably nothing. Why, slut?” The way Rich asked was as though he suspected I was getting ready to back out of doing as he’d said, or something.

I started to feel self conscious and was already double guessing my idea and I hadn’t even asked yet. I could feel my cheeks getting warm and I could feel my head beginning to dip so soon, all I’d see was the floor in front of me. I got a grip and looked directly at Rich.

“May I masturbate a little before I go down so he can smell me when I go in there? I want him to understand I’m not his little girl anymore but rather a mature young slut ... woman!” I quickly corrected myself. I couldn’t believe I’d said that!

Rich chuckled. “You had it right the first time, slut ... But you know what, slut?” He turned his statement into a question.

“What, Sir?” I asked, thinking he was going to say no just because he could. Even though I’d forced myself to ask in the first place. He had to know it hadn’t been easy.

“I think I should do it. I have to get used to doing it and now’s as good a time as any. Bend over at the waist, spread your legs and present your ass to me,” he ordered.

I should have known he’d say that. My butt had to be the only part of me that he could imagine looking anything like a boys’ behind.

I spun around, bent over and even put my hands on my own cheeks, parting them for him. I knew he had to be getting a never before seen view of my butt hole but I clenched my teeth, ignored my humiliation and stayed like that. I was going to learn humility. I had to start somewhere.

I still just about jumped out of my skin when when I first felt Rich’s hand cup my sex from behind, which put his thumb right over my pucker. I was petrified he’d try to jamb that thumb up my butt, without lube.

That’s what I actually thought, too. I should have been scared he’d try to do that at all! Instead, I just made a whimpering sound as if I was enjoying his touch. Honestly, that was not even a little lie. His hand felt magic!

“Rub your cunt over my fingers, slut. Get yourself all worked up using my hand as if it’s the only way you’re ever going to get an orgasm. Hump it like you mean it, you horny, disgusting bitch!”

“Oh God, yes, Sir,” I moaned and began doing what he’d said.

We continued like that for a few minutes until I was soaked and the smoothness of his fingers was starting to feel otherworldly against my nether lips. I had to bite my tongue or I would have begged him to slide a couple fingers into my channel - was that worked up!

Then Rich started talking dirty, and it was all I could do not to cream myself then and there.

“I ought to take my cock out and rub it over your cunt, slut!”

I said something in reply but I honestly don’t know what it was.

“Really? Jim was right. You really are a nasty hoe bag, slut! But you asked for it!”

Then he took his hand away! It had felt so amazing, too. I loudly groaned my disappointment. But then he replaced his fingers with something hot, hard, yet soft at the same time. It was his dick!

I knew it instinctively despite never having seen a live one. Despite convincing myself that my brother had the dick of an eight year old. But Rich’s dick was enormous!

I mean comparatively speaking. The first thing I did was open my eyes and look between my thighs. Rich’s pants were down around his ankles and I could see the head of his dick sliding between my parted lips. He had to be at least six inches long, probably longer.

And from what I saw of his knob in that shirt second, it looked like it was the size of a child’s wrist and almost purple in color.

“You have a nice cunt, slut. But I’m not putting it in you, unless you beg again. I like it when you beg.”

Is that what I’d said? I mean I really didn’t know I had! But oh boy, I’m glad I had! Now it’d only be a simple request to give up my v-card to Rich. All those years of saving myself for Mr. Right and Rich had been right here and I’d never once given him a thought.

“Do it!” I hissed. “Fuck your big cock into me,” I demanded, way past caring that I didn’t sound wholesome and polite. I needed Rich’s dick in my privates, NOW.

Instead of penetration, I felt Rich sliding his dick away until it lost contact completely. Nooooo!

“Please, Sir! You can’t stop now!”

“You wanted to go downstairs smelling like a slut, and now, you do. Also, maybe now you understand that my job is just as tough as yours, but you still don’t get to tell me what to do. I REALLY want you to fuck my cock, slut. But you have to ask. To beg. No one ever said it’d be so hard to say no,” he said, as if to himself.

When I finally made my way downstairs to get Rich his soda after begging Rich a couple more times with no better luck, my nips were prominent within my top, and I was so turned on I didn’t care WHAT dad would say.

It was a letdown of epic proportions to find that dad had already finished the kitchen and was in the yard, messing with the lawnmower. I’d been so scared of his reaction to me braless, for nothing! He wasn’t even there to see me. I almost stomped back upstairs.

It’s not that I’d WANTED dad to see me or even say something, but I’d been working myself up to lashing out at him, ready to call him a pervert for looking at my boobs or saying I smelled like a whorehouse. Then when it didn’t happen, it was like I’d missed an opportunity. Sure I felt relieved but just as disappointed.

By the time I got back upstairs, I heard the lawnmower splutter to life outside. I dropped to my knees in the hallway and knocked on Rich’s door.

“So?” Rich asked after calling me in.

“Dad’s outside mowing the lawn,” I told him, making him crack up just from the look of disappointment on my face.

“Well that’s excellent! It means he won’t hear you getting punished, right?”

“Sir?” I asked, not sure what he meant.

Rich didn’t answer. Instead, he took the can of soda out of my hand and grabbed me by the collar around my neck then tugged, indicating I should crawl across his room to where the hairbrush was. I’d forgotten I still had it on!

With all the excitement of everything I’d done in the last few minutes, I hadn’t even removed it before going downstairs and now I was allowing myself to be led to another punishment.

I didn’t even remember why I was going to be punished. What had I done? I’d acted like a good slut, even letting Rich put his dick on my privates, and now I was going to be spanked again? It wasn’t fair! I was forced to resort to my final option.

I let my eyes water up, and a tear rolled down my cheek. It wasn’t hard to turn the waterworks on. I was about to feel that awful brush on my butt again, and it hurt!

“Please don’t spank me, Sir! I did what you said! It’s not my fault dad decided to mow the lawn!” I started bawling for real but Rich wasn’t moved by my clear remorse.

I really WAS sorry, although I still didn’t remember what I was sorry for. I was definitely sorry my butt would surely be left bruised this time.

“You can’t get away with talking back to me, for not calling me Sir and for throwing a tantrum, slut. If I let you get away with ANY of that, Jim would laugh at ME when you begged to be allowed to show him your new tricks,” Rich said, inadvertently reminding me of my mistakes but not explaining why he thought Mr. J would laugh at him.

It’s not like Mr. J knew what had happened here in Rich’s room and I certainly wouldn’t tell him, but the three reasons Rich had provided for my punishment felt like nails in my coffin lid. I really had done all of that, hadn’t I? I stifled my sniffles.

“Better, slut. I hate it when you try to make me feel bad for helping you,” Rich said, although as he stood in front of me with the hairbrush, I could see what I was now sure was the ridge caused by his hard dick in his pants.

I don’t think I’d ever looked at his crotch before. Certainly not in the way I was now, anyway. I’d seen the crown of his dick. I’d felt it slide between my lower lips. I wanted to again, and more, so I’d have to be everything he expected me to be and more.

Right now, that means I have to pretend to be grateful for a correction so I bit my lip and gave him my best puppy dog eyes. It wasn’t too hard either, with him looking down on me.

I sniffed, clearing my nose, then I answered him.

“I’m sorry I was a bitch, before.” I could feel my knuckles turning white as I held inside some words I wanted to say and instead said, “I know I deserve another spanking, and I appreciate you doing this for me,” I said quietly.

I’d say it was an academy award winning performance but honestly, part of me - a lot of me, to be honest - really meant it. I had been a bitch, and I had thought I knew better than Rich. I did deserve a spanking, but I wanted it to be a light spanking because I didn’t want the pain to overwhelm me. I wanted to get it over so I could get back to what we’d been doing before. If Rich would.

I wanted to feel his dick inside me rather than a hairbrush handle. Not just a real dick, but Rich’s dick. I was already convinced he had to be my first. But before that, I needed to make amends for my behavior and Rich had already decided on the method for that.

I started to bend my arms and get into the spoon position without being told, then stopped myself. Rich hadn’t ordered it yet.

“In a hurry to get your punishment started, slut?” He asked, making my insides shiver and my cheeks red with embarrassment. Rich had caught my movement.

“Only so you’ll forgive me and we can move on, Sir,” I said, as reassuringly as I could manage.

“Then let’s get started, slut. We’re going to do this differently, this time. Pull your skirt up around your waist and move your knees apart,” he ordered as I knelt there, on my hands and knees, feeling like I was about to give him a pony ride.

Rich had seen my butt so many times now that I didn’t even hesitate, I just pulled my skirt up onto my waist and did as instructed, bearing all of my backside and between my legs to him.

“More. Really get those knees apart,” my brother demanded gruffly.

I felt my lips split apart and I wouldn’t have been surprised if Rich had exclaimed that he could see my channel as easily as my pucker, but he didn’t comment.

I just felt him looking at me intently as he moved around behind me.

“Same rules. You’ll count each one and thank me. You can take thirty, so we’ll start with that.”

I think Rich may have been talking to himself as much as me. We both knew I’d had thirty swats last night and while I might have disagreed about being able to take them without a problem, I’d survived last night’s spanking but I think he was reminding himself, more than me.

This time before he started he asked if I was ready, so the first spank was not a complete shock. I took it silently other than counting and thanking him. It wasn’t even as hard as he’d done it last night and I was very grateful.

The second, third and fourth were equally as drama free, and I even began to smile. If anything, they were turning me on even more than I already was.

The fifth one made me giggle, and that was the same mistake I’d made the night before, although that didn’t immediately register with me.

The sixth was harder, but I giggled again, almost laughing because something was just so funny about the way Rich was treating me so sternly while spanking my bare butt while I knelt for him like a two bit whore - not that I knew what one really was.

The next two whacks were a blur. I was almost giddy as I anticipated each one and called myself a dumb bimbo for having argued with my brother. My laughter was somehow getting me through the pain.

Rich of course was unhappy with my reaction. Again. My ass was throbbing, and when he stopped, the pain seemed to catch up to me, almost as if it had only been trailing behind the last whack of the hair brush.

“Let’s try a different tactic, slut,” he said then turned so he was directly facing my butt. I didn’t move but Rich told me to stay still anyway, as if I had.

Then he put his palm on my butt, and I realized I had in fact been moving it like I was pushing it out to meet an expected slap. I reluctantly stilled my butt’s involuntary movement.

I felt like I had to endure my punishment – and it wasn’t just about what happens in two weeks. I was caught up in the moment. If we were playacting Master and Slave or not – it felt real for the next twenty minutes.

“Nine, ah-hoo!!! Sir,” I screamed out as he brought the flat part of my hairbrush down on my parted pussy lips like a hammer. I hadn’t expected that! I have meat on my butt but nothing protecting my pussy lips. I felt so exposed, vulnerable and ashamed.

“Not laughing now, are you, cunt?”

“No, Sir, Sorry, Sir! I don’t know why I was laughing. Ten, oh, damn!”

“I know why, you think I’m doing this to amuse you, is that right?” My brother made my pussy twitch when he spanked it again. It was making me wet, despite the intensity of having my exposed pussy punished. I instinctively tried to close my legs.

“Try to close them again, and I will tie them open, and we’ll start over, slut!” His admonishment was as scary as something Mr. J would say.

I didn’t challenge my brother’s right to decide to do that. Part of me felt that I could have but it was WHY I was being punished. The only thing that ran through my mind was that at least he was back to only calling me slut again. My mother was the cunt. I was just a slut WITH a cunt – somehow that felt like a step up.

Three more swats on my wet pussy, and I endured them. I was thankful he had dropped to his knees so he was sitting between my thighs. That meant I couldn’t have closed my legs even if I had wanted to. I howled in agony between swats and the pain got so intense that I checked out for a short minute.

I didn’t even remember what I said when I realized that I was drifting, the same as I’d done the night before. All I remember was that my hair was sweaty, my pussy was soaked, my nipples were hard to the point of being able to feel my heartbeat though them and my brother was behind me with that sticky hair brush, spanking away.

“Answer me, slut!”

“I don’t know, Sir,” I couldn’t even remember the question or the count.

“Are you intentionally raising your voice so dad will come in here, and put a stop to this?” he whapped me again.

“Sevent-eee-eee—een,” my belly quivered, and I told him I wasn’t.

“It’s eighteen, slut! Can’t you count higher than seventeen? Maybe you need a do-over!”

He spanked my pussy again with the brush, and a real, unintentional tear rolled down my cheek. The pain was so intense. I wanted to go back to that little lapse of reality I had earlier when I checked out. I’d have done anything to go back there. “Do I need to shove a sock in your mouth to gag you?”

“Eighteen, Sir! No! I’ll be good, I’ll be a good slut for you!” I promised, and I had never meant anything more in my life.

He swatted my pussy again, hard, this time when he brought down the brush he poked my asshole with it. I could feel my cream dripping off the brush when it touched my skin anywhere else.

“Whose slut are you? Jim’s or mine?” He demanded.

What did he even mean by a question like that? I was never going to be Mr. Johnson’s slut. Only Rich’s!

“You, yours, Sir! Only yours,” I cried out, surprising myself by not holding back at all. “Nineteen, Sir, oh god!”

“You sure about that?” He hit me again.

“Twenty,” I closed my eyes and began to ball like I did when I was little, and I fell off my bike and scraped my knee. “Yes, Rich, Sir! Yes, you are helping me, and I know it. I am sorry for being a big slutty-dummy!”

“Twenty One,” If this hurts too much, why don’t you say red?” he asked.

It hurt – it was supposed to hurt. I didn’t say red because I’d committed myself to finishing my punishment and saying red meant the end to everything.

“Twenty two, Sir! No sir! I won’t say red. I won’t say red!!” I mewled like a pathetic baby as he destroyed my pussy with another painful strike.

“Good girl. Why won’t you say red if you want me to stop? That’s what it’s there for! Say it, and we’ll be done!”

He was tempting me, goading me into quitting. My stomach and chest were heaving, and I felt pain not only in my crotch but all over. My ass was still tingling from what he’d done to it, and the endorphins had kicked in.

I wanted to beg him to go back to punishing my ass – I didn’t care if he could see what I ate for lunch when I bent over and spread for him. I would even let him start the count again. It would be preferable to this.

“Twenty Three Sir! I won’t say red because I need to be punished for sassing off! I knew I shouldn’t have done it! I knew it,” I cowed to him.

He spanked me between my thighs again right on my clit, and twisted the brush as if wiping off my messy, wet cum. “I am tired of these short answers. Tell me exactly what you did wrong, so I know if I need to beat you again, Slut!”

“Twenty Four, Sir!” I honestly couldn’t remember again what it was that I had done wrong. I just knew that it was bad. I had said something bad. I said the first thing that came to my head about talking back to him and refusing his orders “I should have thanked you when you called me a name, instead of getting mad. I know you’re making me answer to what I am, for my own good, it’s just hard to get used to hearing it!!! The only way I will is if you punish me; oh god, I am such a dumb slut,” I sobbed.

If there were six more, or even more than that I lost count. I am pretty sure there were. I went back to that place in my mind. There was no amber, red or green. There was only letting this happen and riding the wave of pain that followed, with the strange feeling of serenity. I can’t describe the feeling because there was nothing like it. The best I can do is call it dreaming because I was hearing Rich and responding to my brother, but I was not there and I wasn’t, at the same time.

I felt like he was consuming me, swallowing me up and using me, and I was being claimed, tamed and tenderized for his dinner, and that I could not resist – I was simply surrendering, and all the fight was out of me. All stubborn doubts and thoughts had escaped my mind.

What I do remember distinctly from that session, is that Rich hugged me after it was all over. I was crying like a baby, and I hugged him deeply. The emotional intensity of the pain had unlocked some weird doorway or shortcut into another world that briefly allowed me to escape from reality and handle the pain.

[EddieDavidson]

It was there when I got back. So were the doubts and the stubborn attitudes, but they felt at bay for a while. I didn’t need to think about them now. It was enough that Rich had forgiven me.

Rich lifted me up and over to my bed, and laid down with me – not in any sexual way but totally loving. He was naked and I didn’t remember him taking his clothes off. He embraced me and held me tightly. It felt warm and safe in his arms. I was shivering and he was comforting me, and it meant the world to me. He had just brutalized my privates and the pain was intense, but he was making it all better.

I no longer felt driven to feel his dick in my pussy. Things were perfect the way they were for the moment.

“I think you’re going to start minding me and giving me the respect I deserve now, aren’t you, slut?” Rich said after a full five minutes of just stroking my body.

“Yes, Sir. I promise, Sir. May I ask a question, Sir?”

I was still confused by my brother being naked, especially since I still had my top on. My skirt had come off and was on the floor next to Rich’s discarded pants, underwear, and shirt. Something about him being naked made it okay for me to ask. With Rich’s permission, of course.

“Are you going to have sex with me now?” I asked when I felt him nod.

I was both hoping he’d laugh and tell me, of course, but also scared. My privates were on fire from the hairbrush, and I was worried he’d laugh and tell me that he wasn’t going to cheat on his boyfriend. The one he had the dildo and butt plug for, in his drawer. The laughter was what worried me most, I suppose.

“Is that what my slut wants?” He asked instead.

Well that wasn’t fair! I’d finally found the courage to ask, and he put it right back on me. It wasn’t supposed to be my decision. I am the slut and he is the man who sets the rules.

“I’m your slut for the next two weeks. It’s not my decision, Sir,” I replied diplomatically.

“You’re already forgetting your place, slut, and that’s not an answer to my question. In this case it was a yes or no. You either want something or you don’t. Caveats and limitations come after you’ve said yes or no. Is it what YOU want?”

I paused so long that I was sure Rich was about to get angry with me but he kept stroking down my side including the side of my breast.

“Yes, Sir,” I whispered, figuratively holding my breath for his ridicule.

I might be willing, but he was still my brother. I was telling him I was okay with incest but that didn’t mean HE was okay with it.

He didn’t even pause. “Good,” was his only response.

“Really?” I asked a little more confidently.

“Why not? You’re a slut,” he shrugged as though he KNEW it to be the truth rather than just a name he called me. “You have a mouth, a cunt, and an asshole. You will have to demonstrate you can use them all. I don’t mind if you practice on me. In fact it seems like a great idea,” he said, once again giving me the credit for suggesting it.

What he didn’t say was WHEN he was going to take me. Take my v-card. Take them all, even though I was seriously worried about the butt bit. His finger was the biggest thing I’d had up my butt, and that was him too.

Yet his admission took a huge weight off my shoulders. Not only was he going to fully use me to help me prepare for Mr. J’s demonstration, he’d agreed to something that a week ago, I hadn’t imagined I’d wanted. My own brother’s dick. I felt truly grateful to him and humbled, yes, humbled. Not in the least, humiliated.

It was okay to admit that desire for Rich’s dick to myself now. I’d been subconsciously lusting after it for days as the unobtainable thing I could never have. Now I was thinking about it clearly.

I’d get to experience not just any dick. Not even ‘just’ Rich’s dick although it was more than just a mere guy’s penis to me. No, I would get a gay guy’s dick inside me. A dick I’d managed to make hard despite him being my gay brother. I felt like celebrating!

Rich must have thought I was waiting for him to add more after I’d lapsed back into silence because he said, “Hell why don’t you show me what sort of cocksucker you are, slut. I can assess your abilities and correct them so you don’t continue any bad habits you have,” he said.

He had no idea I had never even touched a dick before!

“What score would guys you’ve sucked give you?” He asked as though asking me how pretty guys think I am.

“Umm ... I don’t know, Sir. I ... ummm ... I’ve never actually done it before,” I admitted, feeling like I was confirming something Rich already knew. That I was a cock tease.

“Not ever?” Rich said as though the thought excited him. He sounded like the Rich from before all this had begun.

Well he couldn’t have had that much experience with guys either, him being only fourteen and all. Maybe it wasn’t too late to straighten him out, I wondered.

I was already in his arms but I twisted my body towards him and looked into his eyes. I could see the excitement I’d heard and my heart skipped a beat.

Rich seemed as excited at the prospect of getting oral sex as I was to give it to him. It was surreal in a way since Rich was so casual about nudity and even seeing his own mom suck till she puked hadn’t fazed him.

Was it possible he’d never actually received a blowjob before? No, I decided. No one had dildos and butt plugs if they’ve never had oral sex before and there was so little two guys could do together.

I felt a little scared about taking a dick in my mouth but more in a hurry to try it. To see his dick and feel it in my hands, then with my mouth. To cup his balls and feel them tighten before he came. The videos I’d watched had been very specific about that tip.

Without a thought, I gave him a peck on the lips. It just felt right to, since I was sure he wouldn’t want to afterwards. There was no doubt where his jizz would go. I’m not that naive. I would have it in my mouth and I was ready for it despite what most of my friends said about the taste being gross. Rich’s wouldn’t be, though, and even if it was, I’d still treat it like a precious gift when I got it from him.

When I pulled my head back, Rich had other ideas. He pulled my face to his and gave me the hottest kiss I’d ever had. He absolutely owned my lips with his in a most un-brotherly kiss that included tongues and left me panting with an increased need to impress him.

Before I was ready to stop the kiss, I felt him raise himself to a sitting position and his hands went to my head, then he pushed me south. My knees came off the bed and I let him urge me lower down his body even as my knees touched the floor and I positioned myself to attack his dick.

Rich was setting the pace and that was okay. It was right. It’s what I needed and wanted.

I kissed my way down Rich’s body, marveling at how hot my brother was. I’d always thought of him as just a skinny kid. Now I was getting an up close and personal chance to see that he was quite buff for a fourteen year old and it was exciting to kiss my way down his neck, over his chest and onto his tummy.

He didn’t have a huge chest or anything and no one would mistake him for a football player, but the muscles under his skin were well defined and he didn’t have a lot of baby fat. His tummy was tight and not even close to pudgy like I thought mine was.

The way he’d woven his fingers into my hair and was relentlessly pushing my head toward his waist was hot too. Like he wasn’t about to let me change my mind or escape his control. As if!

I felt his dick before I reached it. It was already hard. As my head went south it was like his dick was coming north. my boobs, or rather the valley between them, contacted his manhood first. I felt his hairy balls, then his shaft slide between them and then his knob slid against my neck and bumped into my chin before Rich let up the downward pressure on my head.

Then it was right there in front of me and it was beautiful! I couldn’t tell if he was circumcised or not because the head was completely out in the open. I’d wondered if it’d look like a doggy dick or something, if he wasn’t circumcised. I wouldn’t have cared. I’d been prepared for him to be two inches hard, after all.

I’ve seen plenty of porn and his manhood immediately got classified as one of my favorite top ten. Not the biggest in length or girth, but just perfect. Maybe even in the top five, but certainly the most special since it’d be the first I kissed and slid into my mouth to suck.

He could have said it was five inches or nine and I wouldn’t have known. I’m not good at telling size. I wouldn’t have cared either. All I was sure of is that it’d be tickling my tonsils soon.

But I wanted to study it first. Just to burn its image into my forever memories.

“Get busy, slut,” Rich said, ignoring what I wanted.

I felt my face warm a little at his casual order to hurry up and suck his dick even though he now knew I’d never done it before. I’d seen it done a hundred times in videos, but this was special to me, and I wanted it to be special for Rich too.

I felt glad I’d seen so many videos of supposed mom’s teaching their daughters to suck a family member’s dick. Funny how I’d end up sucking my brother’s dick just like in those fake videos. Maybe I’ve had a thing for incest longer than I’ve realized?

On top of that, I couldn’t imagine a guy gently and lovingly sucking dick like a woman could, so no matter what, it’d be different this time for Rich.

I took it in hand, amazed at how big his cock was when compared with my small hands. It was so surreal actually holding my brother’s dick- like it belonged to me. I could barely touch my fingertips when I circled it with one hand and cradled his balls with the other. The crown was completely exposed with my hand only grasping the shaft.

I kissed the tip, which was already leaking precum. I was a little disappointed that the precum didn’t really have a taste at all. Still, I swiped my tongue over the knob and felt Rich shudder. I felt like I’d pleased him so I did it again.

“Stick it in your damn mouth, dummy!” Rich growled, bursting my bubble a little.

It was bigger than I’d thought when I slipped my lips over the end, but I could feel the ridge where the crown meets the shaft as it passed over my lips.

“Teeth, dumbass! Don’t you dare bite me!” Rich warned. I’d managed to let my teeth barely come in contact with him but he acted like I’d bitten down!

I tried to say sorry but it’s harder to talk with a mouth full of dick than you’d think. I had to take it out to apologize properly.

“Fuck the apologies. Just suck my damned cock! I wanna cum!” Rich growled again.

His selfishness should have upset me but I was finding that it was arousing me! If my privates hadn’t still been burning so bad, I think I might have snuck a couple fingers down there.

Instead I opened my mouth wide and impaled myself on him. I took half his dick inside, in one go, which made me proud. I was sucking dick!

Rich wasn’t acting so impressed. His hands, still on the back of my head, pushed my mouth deeper into his dick until I made a gagging sound. It was like that was a signal to him. Then he used my face to fuck his dick. All I could do was hold on for dear life! Unfortunately the ride was short.

I thought oral sex was supposed to last nine minutes. Most of the porn I’d watched was of the nine minute variety. I think Rich managed maybe one? Not that I minded.

It wasn’t about me. It was about me practicing being used, and did Rich ever use me! More importantly, I’d made my brother shoot and boy did he ever. I thought he’d never end.

I felt rope after rope hit the back of my mouth and slide down my throat. I thought that sex was realistically supposed to produce a teaspoon of cum but he had to have shot that out with the initial eruption. Then there was a ton of pulses after that while Rich held my head still.

I’d done it! I’d sucked dick, swallowed a load, and I still had more left in my mouth to show him. But I wanted to taste it and I couldn’t focus on that until I’d cleaned his dick. I had to show him that I could be everything he expected me to be as his slut. It was a pride thing. So, I hollowed my cheeks and twirled my tongue around the crown of his dick.

“Shit! Too sensitive!” Rich yelled and pulled my head off his dick, nearly making me lose the semen in my mouth.

“Damn, slut. You had to know how sensitive I’d be immediately after I cum! What did you DO that for?” He spat as if accusing me of hurting him or something.

I paused for a moment, trying to figure out if I could answer him and keep his cum in my mouth at the same time. I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to, so I reluctantly swallowed it. It was thick and made me cough briefly. I was reluctant because I’d wanted to show it to him first.

“I’m sorry, Sir! I was trying to be a good slut! I did say I haven’t done that before. You were my first,” I admitted, noting the irony that he’d probably had much more sex than me, and he was nearly two years younger.

“Just give me a minute, okay?” He panted, still short of breath from his exertions. “I’ll be ready to go another round in a minute. It doesn’t take me long to recover and I’m still horny. The next one will be longer now the initial pressure’s off. Maybe I’ll fuck that red, swollen and delightfully spanked cunt or yours next?” He suggested.

I could hear the defensiveness in his voice as though he’d decided it was my fault for making him jerk away from me, and he wanted to remind me it was my job to take whatever he dished out, not to embarrass him.

Just then I heard dad push the mower ten feet below my bedroom window. The mower had no muffler left so it was really loud. It also meant dad was within the last few minutes of mowing the lawn, and he’d move on to weed eating. He was so predictable.

Rich paused and listened to the mower go by.

“Show me your bikinis, slut,” Rich said out of nowhere.

“I only own one, Sir. I bought it for that time I tried tanning at the salon,” I said. “Why?”

“Come up here, slut,” he replied, seemingly ignoring my question.

I scooted up, thinking Rich wanted to whisper his answer. Instead he slapped my face! Surprised he could do that to a woman, my hand shot up to cover the area.

“You don’t get to ask why every time I give you an order. You just do as you’re told, understand?” He growled just inches from me.

“Yes, Sir. That hurt, you know,” I pouted.

“Good. Now show me the bikini, and hurry it up, slut.”

Still bottomless, I hurried over to my dresser and rooted around until I found both pieces. I’d never wear this bikini in public. It was practically obscene, barely covering my bits. It was meant for use at a tanning studio, not at a beach.

I’d only worn it one time, because it turns out, tanning beds aren’t my thing. Too creepy. I don’t even know why I’d kept the suit. Maybe because I’d been surprised mom had let me have it when we’d gone shopping together for it and I knew how expensive it’d been.

“Put it on, slut. You’re going to do some sunbathing outside, after you deliver dad a cold soda. I want to watch his reaction to you in a bikini. You WILL wear it outside and give him the soda personally. Is that understood, slut?”

“But I hang more more out of this bikini than in it! Dad will go ballistic! The least he’ll do is ground me!” I begged my brother to reconsider even as I peeled my top off.

“Same rules as the one I made for school, slut. If you get in trouble, we’ll know we overstepped our boundaries. But we need to find out where the boundaries ARE first. Not where we IMAGINE they are. If dad gets angry at you, you have my permission to get angry back at him for trying to run your life. That’s MY job. Dad couldn’t control mom’s so why do you think he has a chance of controlling yours?”

“Yes, Sir,” I said, acknowledging my brother but not feeling any additional confidence in what he wanted me to do.

I didn’t doubt for a moment that dad was going to throw a fit when he laid eyes on me. My boobs would be right out there and even though I’d tamed my bush, there was still the occasional hair poking out around the bikini bottom when I pulled it up into place.

I pointed that out to Rich and he just crouched down in front of me and pluck any hairs he could get between his fingers.

“Ow! I cried but didn’t stop him from doing his work.

I’m really pale and freckled. The black suit made me look even paler. I asked for a towel, and Rich refused, telling me I was being silly. He wasn’t the one standing in such a tiny suit, and I would soon be leaving the safety of house in it!

Rich heard the mower shut off. “Time to go, slut. Tell dad you’re going to do some sunbathing. Oh, and keep your ass turned away from him, it’s still bright red. There’s no point pushing our luck!

OUR luck, I thought to myself. Rich wasn’t the one about to get in so much trouble. At least he was owning the risk too, I said to myself consolingly.

The trip outside was the scariest thing I’ve ever done. I felt like I was shaking and shimmying the whole way. Dad was next to the shed, fueling the weed eater.

I crept up behind him, trying not to get noticed. At a couple feet away from him, I let him know I was there.

“I bought you a soda, dad,” I started, expecting him to be pleased I’d done something nice for him.

“Fuck!” Dad exclaimed. I’d startled him, and he poured gas everywhere before even looking up at me. I watched his eyes bulge at the sight of me.

“Where are your clothes?!” He exclaimed then looked around as if checking for hidden cameras or neighbors.

“I’m going to lay by the pool. I just thought I’d bring you a soda. It’s getting hot already.

“But ... but you’re ... how long have you had that suit? It’s too cold out to be wearing that!” He asked, clearly not saying what he’d been going to say while keeping his eyes steadfastly fixed at my eye level despite my chest being in line with his eyes.

“Mom and I got it months ago. It was going to waste in my drawer so I decided it’s time to start using it. Today’s the first day it’s been above fifty,” I said, VERY aware of how freaking cold it is but playing it off as if we were having a heatwave.

“But sunbathing?” He said as if the idea was completely alien and I was acting crazy.

Well it WAS crazy being out here like this but it’s what Rich had told me to do. I just hoped my brother would let me go inside pretty quickly. It was hard not to shiver in front of dad because that would alert him to the fact I was doing this to push his buttons.

My nips were so hard they were hurting, too. But dad refused to look, much less notice or say anything.

“Just head inside the moment you get cold, okay?”

It sounded more like a plea than a parental order.

“Hey dad?” I asked, dreading the next question I had to ask because Rich had told me to.

“Yes, honey,” dad replied, sounding happy for the simple fact I wasn’t yelling at him for the first time in months.

“Before you get busy with the weed eating, do you think you could...” I had to pause to take a breath. This was going to be harder than letting Rich punish me. If I wasn’t so dependent on Rich I would have flat out refused. “ ... put sunscreen on my shoulders and legs? You know, like you used to do once upon a time?”

“I think you’ve got this, Erin,” he said with a chuckle, but his eyes still dropped momentarily to my shoulders. “You were what? Five when I used to do that for you?”

“I know, but still. I’d like you to, is all,” I finished lamely. I really didn’t want dad’s hands within feet of my shoulders, much less my legs. He was such a pussy. Not a real man at all.

That and him agreeing would mean I’d have to be extra careful not to let him see my red behind. Dad seemed to think about it a long time before he replied.

“Sure. Like a trip down memory lane, I guess, huh? Go get yourself situated. I’ll be right over.” With that, dad got back to putting new line into the weed eater.

I think he immersed himself in what he was doing so he wouldn’t have to look at me anymore. I was fine with that, but part of me was still irritated. I was his daughter. He should be able to look at me with my bits covered even if not conservatively so. I WAS still his daughter. What was he going to do if he looked at me? Get a boner?

Still, it was good that dad busied himself so thoroughly. It allowed me to get over to the pool pad without worrying that dad would see my pink butt, more displayed than hidden by my ridiculously brief suit.

The back of the bikini bottoms barely covered the crack of my butt and I could feel the material slipping into my crack on the short walk over to the pool pad. I quickly laid down face up on the lounger. It was so cold that my butt felt grateful for the cooling pad, but the rest of me was breaking out in goosebumps. At least there was no wind!

I thought dad had forgotten me, and it was probably his wimpy way of dealing with the problem I’d presented him with by leaving me to change my mind about sunbathing in winter even though there wasn’t a cloud in the blue sky.

The sun was still shining and putting off a little heat, for which I was thankful. But he made me wait more than five minutes, probably closer to ten before I spied him coming my way, but looking at the ground as if he’d dropped something.

“Shoulders or legs first, Erin?” He didn’t sound particularly excited to be spending some bonding time with me but I had to give him credit for at least making an effort.

“I have to say, you must have warmer blood than me. I’m finding it chilly out here, and I’m not half na ... wearing a swimsuit,” he corrected himself.

He’d actually noticed! He’d been about to say I was half naked but he couldn’t even face the fact that I was. He’s such a coward! Just that much of an acknowledgement empowered me though.

I could have been embarrassed and I was, but not as embarrassed as dad wanted me to be. Instead, I felt better than dad did about me baring myself before him. He didn’t even want to pretend I was fully dressed, but neither did he want to see his daughter’s body.

Yet he’d agreed to rub his bare hands over my shoulders and legs, spreading sunscreen I likely didn’t need at this time of year.

“Start with my legs, daddy,” I said, surprising myself.

I hadn’t called dad that in years. I handed him the sunscreen and closed my eyes. Yes I certainly was embarrassed and now even more so after calling him daddy. I don’t know what’s wrong with me!

When I felt his slippery hands contact my ankles I nearly jumped. I think dad did too, his hands paused, one on each ankle. Bu t then he started massaging the lotion into me, and he got very professional.

His hands felt warm and I began to enjoy it, but it only lasted maybe half a minute. Dad wanted to stop at my knees just as I was beginning to enjoy what he was doing.

“Oh no you don’t! Do you want me to burn, daddy?” I asked, ignoring the fact that I was quite capable of lotioning myself.

“I don’t think...”

“Just finish it properly, daddy,” I told him but I could hear the nervousness in my own voice.

I kept telling myself it was dad’s job to be a parent and protect my skin with sunscreen, but the fact was, I was just as nervous and reluctant to have dad rub sunscreen on my upper thighs as he seemed to be, to do it.

Rich’s rule was that if I could convince dad to apply sunscreen to my whole front, I wouldn’t have to turn over and spend an additional half hour laying on my front. I wasn’t allowed to decide dad had done enough but I should encourage him to do more.

The spanking on my privates had been a great lesson in just doing what I was told without question. Why I was tempting dad to look at my nearly naked body and making him put sunscreen on me, wasn’t so clear. Rich had told me to do it and I wasn’t about to deny him.

That doesn’t mean I’m not enjoying making dad as uncomfortable as I am right now. Then dad drew a new imaginary line halfway up my thighs.

“You can get the rest yourself, Erin,” dad said as he backed away from me. “I’ll get your shoulders now, okay?”

“Daaaad. Just work your way up to my shoulders,” I whined. “It’s better when someone else does it and mom’s not here so...” I left the sentence unfinished, trying to guilt-trip dad into finishing my whole front.

“No, pumpkin. You’re too old now. That wouldn’t be appropriate,” he argued, leaving my words about mom alone.

“So I grew out of being your daughter? Fine. Just go, then! I’ll just get burned to a crisp without sunscreen and then you’ll be sorry!”

I was starting to actually feel like a spoiled child, but it worked! Dad made a noise with his teeth but knelt back down.

“The things we do for spoiled children,” he mumbled but moved his hands back to my thighs.

I had to close my eyes when his hands got near the top of my thighs. It was just too intense. A couple of times I almost told him that was enough when he started rubbing around my hips.

The little triangle of material covering my privates was within an inch of his fingertips at one point and I had to stifle a moan. I’d been imagining dad’s fingers were Rich’s, but that was hard to do because dad was almost too scared to even touch my skin, let alone massage the lotion into me.

I expelled a huge sigh when dad started putting sunscreen on my tummy. His featherlight touch was tickling me, but I didn’t want to giggle. Not with the man who’d basically kicked mom out.

This was his punishment, and it wouldn’t be punishment if I started laughing. That said, he was also causing a reaction in my privates. One I couldn’t help or hide. I could smell myself, and it humiliated me so bad! I had to clamp my mouth shut to stifle a moan.

But then dad’s hands got near my boobs. There were more of them outside the material than covered by it - little more than two black stripes of cloth hiding my areolas and doing nothing to camouflage my erect nipples, which were only that way due to the cold.

Dad’s hands lifted off me again when he got to my boobs, without touching any part of them.

“Make sure you get anything exposed to the sun, daddy,” I said, really enjoying the power I had over him. I opened my eyes just in time to see dad gulp and shake his head before starting again just below my shoulder blades.

“You missed some, daddy,” I said softly, trying to sound innocent and not highly aroused.

I didn’t WANT to be feeling aroused by my dad. I need that to be clear. I was doing this to please Rich, not dad, although I had no idea what Rich, looking down from his bedroom window, was aiming to achieve.

“I can’t do that, princess,” dad said in a husky voice. You’re not a little girl anymore. It would be wrong in so many ways. It’s really kind of wrong now,” he admitted. “I’m only doing this because you’re my little girl, but it’s hard,” he stammered.

“Hard, daddy? It’s the easiest job ever,” I purred, but I glanced down and sure enough, my blushing dad had stretched the front of his khaki pants. I’d caused my own dad to get a boner! I really did giggle then. I couldn’t help myself.

My dad had been about to touch the sides of my boobs but my giggle had frightened him off. Instead he quickly spread sunscreen on my shoulders then stood up while twisting away from me so I wouldn’t see his pants from the front.

“I’ve really got to finish this trimming, Erin. Are you coming this afternoon?”

I sure hoped so, after the morning I’d endured. But that was up to Rich.

“I dunno, dad. A bunch of old people? I’ll check with Rich,” I said, hoping Rich would prefer to spend the afternoon training in an otherwise empty house.

The moment dad turned his back on me I twisted around to look up at Rich’s window and gave him a thumbs up. I saw him smile and give me one back. I still had to suffer the chilly day for another fifteen minutes before Rich tapped on the window.

I almost ran inside. Dad was already there, his weed eating finished.

“Ahh, Erin?” He said when he saw me. He looked just as uncomfortable as he had when he was putting sunscreen on me; this time though, his eyes were searching for something on the ceiling.