Chapter 9

My brothers and I texted all day at school. We were completely unsure how to handle the situation with our sister, but it was clear all of us were interested.

Hope acted completely disinterested in talking and abrupt at school. She avoided us as she often did, stuck her nose up, and walked away like she was annoyed when she saw us. That was perfectly typical of her, but I felt we needed to talk after last night. She was definitely avoiding us.

I was standing outside killing time before returning to class because I had finished eating. A girl I didn’t recognize approached me. I tended to eat alone. She had the look of a bookish goth. I recognized her as the girl who gave us free tickets at the Ren Faire.

She introduced herself as Marceline. She was one of my sister’s “Friends,” although after she gave us the tickets, my sister said she hated this girl’s guts.

“You like to beat on women?”

“What?”

“You heard me. I am not repeating myself. Edward told us how you treat Hope. You are sick.”

“What did he say?”

“The truth. You kick her like a dog! Does that make you feel like a man?”

“She wanted Edward to do the very same thing to her,” I assured this girl. I didn’t feel it was any of her business what I did with my sister, and I didn’t want to be treated like the villain.

“Oh yeah, she’s been all over Edward’s dick since I started dating him. That’s all this was about – taking him from me to piss me off. It still doesn’t make what YOU do to her right.

“Why would my sister allow herself to be treated like a dog to get even with you? And how would what I do have anything to do with you? If anything, you now have your chance with Edward.”

I wanted the girl to fuck off and stop making me feel bad.

“I don’t want Edward now that he’s dipped his cock into your sister’s filthy soup!”

“Then what do you want?” I was annoyed. I had no interest in earning this girl’s approval and even less in being berated by her.

“I just wasn’t sure if the rumors were true. If you treat the little bitch like a dog, how come she was so uppity at the Ren Fair when you guys came there?”

“I don’t know how this is any of your business,” I assured her. “I don’t know you, and I certainly don’t owe you any explanation.”

“I gave you free tickets!”

“And I thank you for that. If I knew that it meant telling you about my personal life, I would have paid full price,” I replied curtly.

She huffed and left abruptly.

I noticed that a few of the Goth kids that my sister hung out with either leered at me like they wanted to kick my ass or smiled at me and gave me a nod of approval. Well, whatever passes for a smile from a morose goth kid.

There may have been two factions within the sub-culture. I had never paid attention to them. I assumed they were just regular kids most of the time who dressed like they were going to a rave at rave at Lestat’s house (from “Interview with a Vampire”). Dark black outfits with purple trim, crosses and religious iconography, black eye makeup, black hair, Edgar Allen Poe inspired Victorian accessories, mixed with leather jackets, army boots and trench coats.

Even if I had been interested in that subculture, my sister was one of them, and she probably would have considered me to be an intruding upon it if I had tried to hang out with any of them.

When we got home from school, I told my brothers about the awkward confrontation. Trent’s theory was that Marceline wanted my dick. James’ theory was that she was just a crazy bitch, and maybe we could get tickets from her to go to the Ren Faire again.

When my sister brought my mom home, we ignored Hope. We didn’t address her or talk to her. Instead, we smacked Misty around the kitchen before jerking off on her face at dinner. We fed her crumbles of her food and dipped some of it in piss before making her swallow it.

James made the mistake of asking my sister if she was still interested in us doing this to her, after he finished harassing our mom with the food she had made for us. I think he was kidding, just to lighten the mood.

“No. I never was interested,” Hope assured us. I wasn’t sure if that meant we should hold the Reflection or not. We had planned it and it didn’t include Hope. However, we were all feeling this weird vibe after the previous day and I felt we needed to confront it with Hope. Hope didn’t seem interested in talking and went upstairs to sulk.

We decided to go ahead with our Reflection. It would be fun to make Misty fix up her makeup and hair, only to dunk her face in the toilet. We needed to hear our Mother’s concerns and questions. She had been doing great, and none of us had any complaints about the way things were going.

At 8pm, we promptly assembled in the living room for our regular Reflection with Misty. We didn’t make my mother wait long. She was there squatting down, mouth slightly open, choking on a dildo, while clenching one in her pussy and another in her ass. Her hands were firmly cuffed behind her back.

“Well, I guess Hope isn’t interested in the Reflection. Let’s start without her. Do we have any feedback for Misty?”

Trent’s response was meant to be light hearted. He removed the dildo gag and squatted over her face, and began farting right on our mom’s nose. He’s always been to summon a fart on command. My brother calls it “Locking one in the chamber.”

“Do you like my feedback, Toilet?” he asked sadistically. I thought for sure my mom would spit on him or tell him to stop and that he had gone too far.

“Yes! I love your feedback,” Misty choked and stuttered. She seemed to be caught up in the rough play and how intense things had become – enough to tolerate even that.

“You’re my little fart loving pet, aren’t you?

Misty gasped and sputtered as Trent ripped another in her ass. We suggested that he change his underwear after that nasty blast.

We almost didn’t hear Hope when she entered the room. She was daintily trying to slink into the room while clenching one of the larger dildos in her cunt. She had taken it from our room, which we kept away from our mom. Misty was a size queen, and she could get horny and desperate to cum if we didn’t allow her to have an orgasm, so we removed the temptation to play with the “fun toys,” as she called them.

Hope had the smaller dildo in her ass from the day before. She also had a dildo in her throat, pushed down about as far as it would go. Spit was dribbling down her chin. She looked like she might cry because her eyes were watering up.

I was surprised that Hope really did join us after all.

When she saw the silliness, I thought she was going to turn around and leave.

“You went to the trouble of getting ready for Reflection. Squat like a dumb cunt,” I said. When Hope didn’t do as I said, I flung a riding crop at her tits, and it bounced off harmlessly. “Squat down now, Cunt!”

She didn’t seem impressed or intimidated when I threw the riding crop at her. She also didn’t try to get out of the way or deflect it. Hope seemed morose, a little defeated as if she were carefully thinking about her next actions.

Hope faced us, spread her legs apart, and looked up. I could see inside her pussy, the dildo she had pushed into her tight pussy was reaming her out.

“Trent, my man, are you done?” James waved his hand across his nose. Trent pulled his underwear down in the back, spread his cheeks, and placed his asshole in my mom’s face. I didn’t hear her lick, but he was clearly resting his pucker on her face.

I made Hope wait. I heard her sigh. “Waiting is part of the experience. You will spend a long time tied up if you decided to continue. If you are this impatient. You should probably get dressed,” I assured her as I took the dildo from her throat. I had to really pull it hard to get it out of her mouth. Hope had wedged it DEEP into her throat. I assumed that if she went to this much trouble to present herself like this, she was serious.

It still shocked me that she would be. After all, she had put us down so often that I assumed she thought we were out of our minds. Yet, something about what we did must have intrigued her. I had spent a significant part of the day thinking about what she meant by “CNC” and Consensual Non-Consensual.

“So, you want a relationship with no rules? But you want to have to adhere to the rules we tell you?”

“I don’t think you get it, Sir,” Hope was still choking and recovering from the dildo removal. She seemed snotty and sullen.

“Why don’t you explain it to me?”

“I can’t really do that. I don’t fully understand it myself,” she said.

“You want us to read your mind and give you what you desire?” I asked. I assumed that was why Edward had given up on my sister.

“No, Sir.”

“It sounds that way. You have an impossible set of requirements. You have all of these things you do not want, but you can’t tell us what you do want. Anything I propose you say isn’t right, but you have no suggestions.”

“Then why are you bothering with me if I am such a stupid bitch that doesn’t know what she wants, Sir?” Hope was borderline contemptuous.

“Because I love you,” I replied.

That was the WRONG answer. Hope rolled her eyes and started to stand up. I smacked her face hard and not just on the side. I slapped her good. “Sit the fuck down and don’t stand up until you are given permission.”

Hope squatted down.

“I was still talking,” I explained. “I love you, and I want you to be happy, and if that means making you unhappy, I am willing to do that. I would rather do that than have you chase an endless line of Dougs and Edwards who have no more clue than I do of what to do with you.”

A trace of a smile appeared on Hope’s face. I noticed she was trying to get rid of it and look serious.

“Today, Marceline came to me and called me a pig for treating you like a dog.”

“That BITCH, I’ll destroy her! This is none of her business,” she seethed with rage. She told me that her real name was Marcie.

“It is none of her business, but you will NOT destroy her. At least not if you become our beast. You’ll only destroy what we permit you to destroy.”

That answer seemed to placate my sister.

“Let me see if I can lay this out for you. You do not want to be a pet like Misty. You don’t like how we adore our mom, and even though we tease her, we stroke her hair and give her aftercare some nights. Right?”

“Yes.”

I stared at my sister.

“Yes, Sir.”

“You like how we tease her. So, rule one will be in effect all the time. Is that acceptable?”

“I don’t want rules,” she assured me. Hope seemed stubbornly adamant about it. She stuck her nose up in the air like she was above rules. I found that hard to fathom. Rules were the basis of our relationship. Rules helped define the allowed roughness, the boundaries, and the roles we all played. I explained that to my sister.

“You can’t just do this however you want with no rules.” I said.

She told me that I did not understand, and when I asked her to make me understand, she replied, “I will try when I understand.”

I realized that my sister wanted something she could not quantify or describe.