Chapter 6

Something extremely unexpected happened the morning following the fair. Hope, my sister, got up early and strolled into the kitchen, clad just in her boots and a pair of tight-fitting white slacks. Her entire waist was entirely covered, and they were really tight. I’d seen my sister in black “boy shorts” panties in the kitchen, but never lacey panties like these.

To my astonishment, my sister had her tits totally exposed. I assumed that my sister had piercings because I had seen the bulge under her shirt. I was still shaken when I saw them firsthand. The silver hoops reminded me of steel rivets driven into her tender pink flesh. They looked a little like welcoming door knockers ready to be firmly grasped.

I think she was aware that I was stunned by the sight of them, but she remained aloof and played it off like it was not a big deal.

Hope had also styled her long blond hair and put on her make-up before breakfast. She exuded a casual air, as though this was perfectly normal behavior and that she didn’t expect me to be surprised at all. She stood up, grabbed her fat pierced nipples as if she were preparing them, and approached me when I arrived.

When Hope saw my jaw drop open, she shrugged it off. “You guys saw me change yesterday,” she said as she walked past the stove to the kitchen table. “I’ll do rules one and two,” she explained to me and my brothers. “Just don’t stick anything in my pussy, ass or try to make me drink piss. I also won’t eat my own yak.”

Just like that – Hope was offering to obey rules one and two? I found it hard to believe that my sister would have that sudden interest in what we did at the kitchen table. She usually had something rude to say and ignored us.

I wasn’t sure what she meant by “yak” but the fact that she had made an offer to follow those rules, shocked me. There were times we forced Misty to swallow a little of her own upchuck when we gagged her to the point where she vomited, but it was really rare. I assumed “Yak” might be vomit, but I was less inclined to find out what she meant by that and excited to make sure that I understood her offer.

Hope acted like a cat that was waving her tail just out of reach of being petted. All we had to do was move one inch further to stroke her- or perhaps she was just teasing us to watch us fall all over ourselves. I spoke for my brothers and remained calm about her offer. Hope’s slightly upturned smile suggested she knew that I was probably shocked by the offer.

“Rules one and two?” I quickly summarized them because I wasn’t sure if my sister truly understood what she was asking for.

1. The guys can casually tease Misty for any reason at home, no matter what she is wearing. Misty can never refuse to be teased. Teasing can include:

One or two casual swats or slaps with hands, paddles. Misty does not have to count them out loud.

Poking, pinching, tapping, pulling, flicking anywhere on the body except the face, and verbal teasing.

On the face, the nose, tongue, and ears are fair game. Hair pulling is fine.

· Playful punches and kicks to the ass or tummy are fine.

· Face slapping is allowed only when Misty is nude and only on the sides of the face, never the center.

· Teasing may never include cutting/breaking the skin, punching hard, kicking hard, ripping the hair all the way out (including body hair), or sticking anything in Misty’s pussy or asshole. No Farting in the mouth, French kissing or licking Misty’s tits and pussy.

While Misty is nude: Her labia (pussy lips) can be pulled, stretched, and pinched, clit can tapped, plucked, lifted, or flicked but not masturbated by the guys. Her asshole can be touched and spit on but not stretched open.

2. If Clothes are on during meals at home, Misty may sit and feed herself normally. The guys can offer to hand feed her, but she doesn’t have to eat it. She can sit and eat as she pleases if she is alone, even on weekends.

If clothes are off during meals, Misty may not sit. She is to either stand with her palms flat on the table, her hands tied up, or hold her ass cheeks apart in the guy’s direction. If there is time at the meal, Misty must go round robin around the table, offer her body for a spanking, and count 10 swats before moving to the next person. The guys are OBLIGATED to give ten good swats and take no longer than 5 minutes each time it is their turn.

“Yeah, I know what the rules are. I’ve seen you guys do them. It’s up to you,” Hope lifted her massive tits and cupped them with her hand, then let them drop down on her chest. She smiled and waited patiently for us to dive in.

My mom didn’t say a word. Misty was nude and preparing our breakfast. It took us a moment to adjust to the shock of what my sister was offering. Trent was the first one to run over to her, grab her great big tits, and give them a hard squeeze. Hope didn’t seem impressed. She made a face like she had expected more from us.

We usually slapped Misty’s ass, pinched her tits, and teased the hell out of her at breakfast. It had taken us a few weeks to get comfortable enough with our mom that we could just induce pain and not grope. I was reluctant to “dive in” on my sister and my brothers were as well. I think all of us suspected this was some sort of trap.

Rule two had devolved from just feeding and we all knew that Hope knew that very well. My brothers and I had finger-fucked Misty and pulled her elongated, sore clit We even fucked her with the handle of a paddle or a dildo while she served us breakfast, and we usually stuffed our mother’s mouth full of bits of her food.

We usually cuffed my mother’s hands behind her back or made her stand at the table with her palms flat. At times, we even ordered Misty to the floor like a dog with her ass up and made her suck our toes while we played with her.

Was this a trap? A test? A trojan horse of a gift that once we opened it, we’d regret it? Was my Sister just messing with us? Hope started to look bored as if she was disappointed by our reluctance. “Suit yourselves,” my sister was about to sit back down.

James came behind her with a wooden paddle and smacked Hope’s ass over her panties. The paddle made a crisp slapping sound and left a nice red mark. Our sister seemed mildly annoyed but put up no resistance.

I piled on and smacked Hope’s inner thighs with a riding crop I had at hand. “Bend over the table, palms flat, mouth open.”

My sister didn’t fight back, she didn’t try to stop me, she didn’t even react.

“This is an order, Hope!” I demanded. It was an order we frequently gave our mother at breakfast so that we had easy access to tickle and torment her asshole and pussy.

“I am not going to obey your orders. Rules one and two only.” My sister replied like a self-entitled snob as she reminded us of the conditions that she had set. I was stunned by her push-back.

Trent reached into the back of her French lace panties and yanked them up. Her ass crack like a wedgie.

Our sister sneered a little and seethed. She didn’t lash out at us, though, and that surprised me. Hope said that was fine, as if reassuring us or herself that it was okay to go that hard. She clearly had a boundary, and having her pants wedgied in her ass crack was coloring within her lines. That was good for me! We turned up the heat and crowded her – all three of us reaching, grabbing, pulling, twisting, pinching, poking and jiggling her huge knockers.

She seemed mildly uncomfortable as my brothers began to tease and slap her body. We focused primarily on her tits, which James began calling her “Great Big Milkers.”

My sister seemed tolerant of the name-calling but didn’t fight back or offer any insults of her own. She let us slap and tease her. We kept it above her waist for the most part, with only an occasional smack to the butt or a wedgie. She didn’t complain about it.

We joked that we could squeeze her huge honkers to get milk for cereal. Hope didn’t laugh or find it amusing. She acted like she was above the name-calling and let us have our fun.

I got a boner just imaging doing this to my sister every morning from now on. She didn’t look like she enjoyed it, but she was certainly tolerating the pulling and tugging. It seemed to me she was trying to endure it and act like she could ignore us.

I squeezed my sister’s tits and reminded the guys that Doug had left a breast pump for nursing moms in the garage. I wanted to see her reaction to that idea.

Hope didn’t wince. She didn’t suggest that we try it on her, but she also didn’t say that we couldn’t use it on her. We only had about 20 minutes left for breakfast, and I wasn’t sure the thing would be all that interesting. It just seemed appropriate, considering that our sister was very top-heavy, and we were hyper focused on pulling her tits. Hope’s nipple rings were a little problematic for us. We didn’t want to pull them off or yank on them, so we avoided twisting her nipples. Instead, we honked, squeezed, pinched, groped, and generally pulled her tits.

All the while, Misty was dutifully putting together breakfast. She looked a little jealous. I wondered if that was my sister’s plan all along. I wouldn’t have put it past Hope to try a little dig on mom. If that was the plan, it really didn’t work. Misty seemed mildly amused and observed us while we poked, pinched, pulled and smacked our sister’s tits.

We demanded that our mother crawl under the table and lick our toes while we focused on our glistening new toy. My sister’s pussy was wet; I could smell it. Her alabaster skin was so soft to the touch and warm.

We didn’t touch Hope’s crotch. My brothers and I may have smacked her ass, but we knew her pussy was completely off-limits. We didn’t do anything close to her groin.

Hope wore what appeared to be a second pair of smaller thong under the French lace. I assumed it was to not only cover her clit but to keep us from actually touching it. I couldn’t quite see her asshole either.

We did smack her butt cheeks. Hope had a nice fat ass, and it was pale and easy to pull her cheeks apart. We couldn’t see her asshole, but it was fun to play with her body.

I didn’t feel like I’d break my sister; she was resilient and didn’t cry out or tell us to stop. She seemed almost above it, as if she were trying to eat her breakfast while ignoring the slaps, pinches, and gropes. She might have lost her shit and beat the crap out of all three of us if we went too far, but I doubted highly that we could inflict enough discomfort to make her tell us to stop.

I didn’t go nearly as hard as I would have with my mother. My brothers didn’t either. We didn’t make breakfast a living hell for Misty most mornings. We saved our really brutal stuff for weekends, dunking her head in the toilet and hanging her from the cherry picker.

“You said nothing in your butt or cunt, but what about in your mouth?” Trent asked rhetorically. He was already pulling our sister’s hair, yanking her head back, and forcing a cracked egg into her mouth. Unlike my mom, Hope kept her mouth shut tight. The yellow egg drippings ran down my sister’s chin and all over her tits.

Hope didn’t answer the question. I felt a little guilty about tormenting my sister, even though she asked for this treatment. It felt like she regretted it and was reluctant. She sat down at the table, with the egg yolk on her tits, and began to eat her pancakes. We took her fork and knife from her. Hope simply ripped the pancake into bits and fed herself.

Every attempt we made to stuff her face with food was met with resistance. She’d shut her mouth and chew. James gave up and started feeding our mom from below the table, but Trent and I continued. I was puzzled by Hope’s reaction. She told us we could feed her, and now she wouldn’t open her mouth. That was certainly not how my mom did it.

I felt like she was playing a game with us, and she was winning! I wasn’t sure what the point of the game was but the look of mirthful stubbornness on her face told me that she wasn’t going to open her mouth on her own.

“Stand up and let us spank your tits and ass!” Trent demanded as he used a wooden spoon to repeatedly tap her nipples. It was probably more annoying than it was painful.

“Nope,” she responded with an economy of words so that we wouldn’t slip something into her mouth.

“Regretting agreeing to this?” I asked as I squeezed her nose hard and pinched the cheeks on her face.

“Kind of,” she replied. As if she was evaluating us and we had failed to impress her.

I was tempted to slap my sister’s pretty face. I wanted to teach my sister a lesson that teasing and slapping someone was harder than it looked. We didn’t just gang up on my mother, we tried to make our teasing pleasurable to her even if it inflicted pain. Hope’s judgmental expression made me feel like she had graded us a C+ for effort and that made me really angry. I didn’t think it was fair at all.

Our mom had committed to letting us have fun playing with her at every meal. We tickled Misty until she pissed herself some mornings, and then she’d grin while lapping it off the tile while we took turns sticking our toes up her asshole. It was different with Hope; I felt guilty for what I was doing to her, and we only pulled a fraction of the tricks we knew to use on Misty.

“Want us to stop?” I asked, and I tried to force her to stand by pulling her tits up.

“Nope, you can keep going,” Hope responded calmly. She let us continue to slap and poke her tits, but she neither encouraged us nor defended her fat tits as they swung and turned pink from being groped by my brothers and me.

“Then stand up!”

“Nope,” she repeated calmly.

Trent threatened to pour a glass of piss over her head. “I said no pee!” she said calmly. She had said “Yak”, but I guessed that was a blanket term for “anything disgusting”

“You said we couldn’t make you drink pee,” Trent reminded her as he held a glass of warm, light brownish piss over her head. I know most pee is yellow like Gatorade, but my brother’s piss was probably that color from vitamins he was taking.

“Stand up! Or I’ll pour this on you!”

Hope stood up and sighed as if she was placating us. We insisted she place her palms flat on the table and bend over slightly, but she wouldn’t open her mouth. In that position, my brother and I delivered about twenty swats to her ass with a paddle and another twenty to her tits simultaneously. We left her bright and rosy, pink on the buttocks and tits.

It was an empty threat though. My brother didn’t actually do it when my sister called his bluff and glared at him.

Usually, my mom would wait until one of us told her to clean up and said we were finished. Usually, that was right up until time for us to leave. Hope left without being excused to go clean up.

When she returned, She refused to answer any questions we asked about whether she enjoyed it or even why she thought she should try it. Misty quickly showered and carried her work clothes with her. She was wearing her collar and holding a pair of handcuffs as well. We sent her around the outside of the house to get into the car from the backyard. She handcuffed herself and waited in the backseat for my brothers. My mom didn’t comment on the games we played that morning with Hope. She literally “Took a backseat” to it and just focused on wriggling on a dildo she brought with her.

There was no uncertainty now with her, no refusals. She knew where she sat and how she was expected to ride in the car. I liked that there was no contest of wills, or doubts about her place. Misty knew her place was in the back and she got in and rode a dildo to get her rocks off until we dropped her off.

She was open about it too. She didn’t make any secret that she was trying to pleasure herself.

Hope said nothing as she started up the car and prepared to leave. She acted as if none of what happened had just happened.

“Can we do that again tomorrow?” James asked. It was what I was wondering as well, but I assumed my sister was probably not interested.

“Doubtful,” she replied, as if she were bored with the entire experience. “I just wanted to see what it was like, and now my curiosity was satisfied. You guys got your chance to grope my boobs. That was enough.”

Hope didn’t say another word about it, and I assumed that was the last we’d hear about it because she didn’t bring it up again.

At school, I reflected a lot on what I saw that morning. I wondered about my sister’s willingness to let us slap and tickle her boobs. What was her motivation?

The mental image of my sister’s big, pale knockers and the memory of how soft her skin felt turned me on. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of regret as if we had the opportunity to turn that session into something fun and satisfying for my sister.

I seldom thought about Misty’s pleasure when we teased and humiliated her. She seemed to get off automatically and slowly build to a climax. We’d know she was close when she’d start to beg and shake, and we’d almost always deny her to the point of her own frustration. Misty would come back over and over for more and beg even harder.

That didn’t happen with Hope. I didn’t understand why, and I was too embarrassed to ask her what it would take to get her to do it again. I chalked it up to my sister, wanting to understand what all the hoopla was in the morning.

That evening after school, we had another reflection to go over what my mom did well, what she did wrong, and what she could have done better. Hope didn’t join us to watch the session. She was up in her room. I got the impression she and her boyfriend, Edward, were reconciling.

Misty prepared herself for the reflection by inserting a lubed dildo up her ass and letting four inches hang out. She stuffed another in her pussy and another down her throat, so that she was obscenely packed with dildos. She handcuffed herself and waited on her knees in the living room.

My brothers and I lauded her for getting pierced and being a good, committed pet. There was nothing negative or constructive we had to add, and I had no new rules. We didn’t bring up hope at all.

I removed the dildo from my mother’s throat so that she could speak. Spit ran down her chin and neck as she gasped for air. “Do you regret getting pierced?”

“No, not at all. I’ve always wanted to do it. I just never had a reason or the money. That was fun. I am sorry you can’t play with me as hard as you want while I heal up,” she apologized. “The only thing I wanted to bring up was my friends coming over.”

Hope joined us shortly after we began. She mostly texted on her phone and ignored us while sitting on the opposite side of the room.

I pulled my mother’s tits and began to “milk” them by squeezing them. I didn’t grab her piercings and instead focused on Misty’s nipples, squeezing around them. Misty had one issue to bring up.

“I haven’t spoken to my friends Jenny and Carolyn since this began. They don’t know what’s going on or that I am your pet now.”

“I thought everyone in the neighborhood knew by now.” I asked.

My mother seemed sullen, almost dejected by that reality. “They would have called me or stopped by if they heard something. What should I do?”

“Invite them over,” Trent suggested boldly. I was sure from my brother’s body language that he wanted to show our mom off and didn’t intend to let Misty return to how she was before this.

“I’d like that, sir, but the everyday “all the time” rules are going to be shocking to my friends.”

“Well, they are “all the time” rules,” James reminded our mom. He stuck his fingers up her nose. He grabbed her tongue and pinched it. Misty grinned a little as she let him play with her mouth and even sucked his fingers generously.

“Oh my god, can you not humiliate Mom for a few hours a night?” Hope was demanded on behalf of our mom. “Can she just invite them over when she isn’t a house pet?”

“Sure, but that’s when the all-the-time rules are in play!” Trent joked. I think the three of us were just having a laugh at this stage, though. I fully intended to cut our mother some slack when her friends came over.

“That’s the thing, ma’am.” Misty spoke up and said she needed our help to figure it out. “I don’t really know what to do. I am sure I can avoid accidentally calling you Ma’am or the boys Sir, but eventually, my friends are going to see me jogging behind the car or hear rumors about me. They are my friends, so they should be happy for me, but I am afraid they won’t understand, and I don’t want to shock or disgust them.”

It was still surreal hearing my mother call us Ma’am or Sir, and even though she didn’t do it all the time, she was doing it far more frequently now. It was usually after we roughed her up and dominated her. However, with Hope she was doing it all the time and my sister had never laid a finger on her.

“So, you are okay with Jenny and Carolyn knowing you are a house pet?”

“Yes, Ma’am. I’d rather just be honest with them. I am just worried they will think I am being selfish and not being a really good friend.”

“Do you want us to tone things down when they come over?” I asked.

Misty guffawed, and she looked down at her naked body to indicate that it would be hard to “tone” that down. “If we were having a reflection and they walked in, I guess they’d have their minds blown. I don’t want to freak them out, though, or catch me on the back patio or spot me running behind the car one day, and that’s how they find out.”

“We could invite them over, and you could explain that you agreed to these new rules?” I suggested.

“Would you explain it? You could order me around like you do when Jerry comes over, but I don’t even know what to say.”

“Could I offer to let you go down on Carolyn and Jenny?” I asked coyly.

“Jenny would probably go for it! But I think Carolyn would be offended and freak out, sir.”

My mom took the question seriously and at face value. I was surprised there was no reluctance in her response – almost as if she had thought about going down on her friends before and reached that conclusion.

I couldn’t believe my mom was really considering letting her long-time friends come over and see her this way. I hadn’t given her much choice, considering the rules.

“Invite them over on a non-weekend, and we’ll talk to them. We’ll tone it down,” I promised generously. I didn’t want to be an ogre and ruin her friendships. Misty smiled.

“OR,” my sister interjected with an expression that suggested she strongly disagreed. “You could just go back to fucking normal when your friends come over and not humiliate yourself, Misty.”

None of my brothers or I wanted to confront my sister. Her logic was actually sound, and I would have acquiesced to it.

“I didn’t know the neighbors knew I crawled around in the backyard, and I got shocked when they came over. I was lucky that they were, for the most part, alright with what I was doing and willing to accept our explanation. My friends may already have heard the rumors or seen me jogging behind the car, but if not, they eventually will. Then how do I explain that for the last month, I’ve been pretending nothing was different when they came over? I was okay with my neighbors knowing I was a house pet, but the two people who are supposed to be my best friends couldn’t understand.”

“Just admit you don’t give a shit what they think.” Hope didn’t buy my mother’s well-reasoned explanation.

“I do care, and I am a little terrified of their possible reaction, but I am more concerned about your friends coming over and making you and them uncomfortable or embarrassed.”

“My goth friends would probably laugh their asses off,” Hope assured her.

“I’d honestly rather that happen than have your friends be shocked and disgusted,” Misty agreed.

“They’d probably laugh and be disgusted.” Hope grinned wickedly but accepted my mother’s point.

Misty left it because her friends probably would not understand, but she was willing to keep the rules. ‘Rules one and two were always in play, and I honestly didn’t think about Jenny and Carolyn when we first began this new arrangement. I assumed if you slapped my ass around the house, people would see it, and if you were worried about their reaction, you wouldn’t do it.”