Chapter 38: Response

Jane continued pacing about the room during Dorothy’s recovery. The glazed-over look of all-encompassing pleasure passed out from Dorothy’s eyes. She still did nothing about her bottoms being beside where I was sitting. I was patiently waiting for Jane to make that final decision. She understood the gravity of walking out the front door, so she stayed. She needed to try one last time to convince her mother, who had just been stripped of her pelvis’ covering and brutally spanked, that she didn’t need to submit to the same.

Dorothy projected no concern about her pussy being without any covering but the sarong that loosely hung down in front of it. She glared at her daughter as she walked around. Again, she pointed at me and demanded of her eighteen-year-old daughter, “On Mr. Wick’s lap now. You’ve earned it.”

Jane was across the room, trembling with overwhelming emotion. Her face flushed, and she said, “No, I’m an adult and won’t be told what to do.”

The two continued their argument for over ten minutes. I only interjected myself when voices got raised. I reminded Jane and informed Dorothy I didn’t allow yelling in my house. I knew Dorothy couldn’t be all sweetness and light or a wilting daisy when it came to her girls. From what Helen had said, her mom was the one that disciplined them. But the look she gave Jane on being corrected was murderous. I figured it was from Jane doing something that made Dorothy break one of my rules, which was unconscionable.

After another ten minutes, Dorothy exploded, “Fine, we are going home. And as an adult, you are done in my house if you think you don’t have to follow my rules. You can go live elsewhere, and I don’t care where that is.” Dorothy was just as worked up as Jane. She had kept her voice calm, but there was a new fury to it. Walking over to me, she reached down and grabbed the suit bottoms that were left. Violently, she turned and headed toward the door. Her hackles still up, she still kept her manners. “I’m sorry to do this in front of you. It is not fair to you. I will be back after Jane is out of the house. Walking to wherever she is going to live.”

The walking was to let Jane know the car she drove was not hers. It was a perk of living in the house and her parents’s largess. Jane’s face was white, all the blood having quickly drained from it when she comprehended her mother was not going to bend. As an insolent child, she stomped her foot and hollered, “Mom ... No ... Don’t make me do this ... I can’t ... Don’t make me leave.”

Dorothy continued walking with her suit in her hand as she walked out the door. Jane was still stomping on the floor, crying. “No, Mom, I won’t go. Please ... please don’t go.” Dorothy closed the front door as she left. I expected to hear the car start up, yet it didn’t. She must have been waiting for Jane to join her in the car. Jane looked at me while her mother was gone, looking for support. I kept a neutral affect, saying nothing that would put me between the two women.

Jane was down to sniffles when I heard noises out on the front porch. I was interested in what they were but stayed planted where I was; sure, events would play out however they would play out. And I had no control over the final outcome. All the hostility was gone when Dorothy called out for her daughter. “Jane, can you please come out here so we can work this out? I really think it would be better if we finished this out here, not in front of John.”

Jane must have thought working it out not in front of me was her mother’s way of letting her out of the spanking that was required. Her face didn’t have the same level of worry it had before hearing her mother. She quickly walked across the room to the closed door, her mood improving with each step.

I quit paying attention to Jane when her hand went to the doorknob. She had pulled the door open and taken half a step across the threshold when Jane’s surprised yelp, “What?” caught my attention. I hear an extremely short scuffle outside the door on the porch. Dorothy, faster than I thought possible, had the surprised teen’s hands secured together behind her using the bikini bottoms she had not put back on. The action had caught Jane unawares and let Dorothy rope her hands together without much of a fight. Dorothy had done the securing at a speed a rodeo cowboy would be jealous of. Through the door that had remained open.

Jane continued to fight and struggle while her hands were stuck behind her back. Dorothy struggled with the girl, despite Jane not having her hands to help. From a distance, you would have sworn it was identical twins having a fight. I couldn’t help but notice the position Jane was in had further flattened and tautened her already flat stomach. Jane was screaming bloody murder when she understood her current predicament. All the “fuck’s” she bellowed did little to stop Dorothy’s single-minded maniacal goal. I guess realizing her only option was kicking feet Jane managed to kick her mom once.

The kick didn’t seem to faze Dorothy, who had a driven, insane, murderous look on her face. Her pupils were as big as the irises that held them. I don’t think anything short of doing to her what she was doing to Jane could have stopped her. It was truly bizarre and out of character for the usually mild-mannered woman. I couldn’t help but wonder how much of this was a bleedover from her weekend. When she learned punishment and humiliation could be some of the best ways to learn about following directions.

The older of the two women had her daughter bent over the arms of a porch chair. Jane’s stomach was on one arm and her collarbones were on the other wooden arm, leaving her tube top contained tits hanging in the space between. Dorothy held Jane across the chair by clamping her hand on the back of the girl’s neck. Jane continued to squirm and attempt to get back up, but her mom’s grip tightened each time.

Finally, I said, “Dorothy, isn’t that a bit extreme? I mean, she can just not return here. That is enough punishment.”

Dorothy growled. “This isn’t for you.” She had said to me but was talking to the girl she had bent over the chair. “I fully expect you to finish her punishment. But until then, she is not just insulting you. She is doing the same to me. I thought I raised her to be true to her word. And not just to you, but she told me as well that if she stayed here, she would not be a guest. But like Helen, she would act as part of the family and all that entailed, which includes the acceptance of her action’s consequences. So, if you’re not comfortable with this, I will take it home.”

“No, I’m not getting in the middle of this.” I held my hands up and stated out loud what I had been thinking. Dorothy was a temporarily crazy woman on a mission, and I didn’t need to be any part of it.

In the background of mine and Dorothy’s conversation was Jane still screaming at her mother. Both of us heard Jane’s ranting, “God damn it, I am an adult. You can’t do this to me, you bitch. What the fuck is wrong with you lately?”

I could almost see a smile go across her face at her daughter calling her a bitch. It was like that gave her permission to do what she planned on doing anyway. “John, do you have a knife on you, I could borrow?”

I kept all my knives honed to a razor’s edge and shiny. But I knew Dorothy wouldn’t hurt her daughter. So, I had little fear about what she would do with a finely honed knife I opened and handed to her. Jane saw the shiny object when her mom reached for it. She immediately started screaming, “Help! Somebody help!” at the top of her lungs.

It turned out my lack of concern was borne out when, after letting Jane see the knife, Dorothy rested the dull end on Jane’s skin next to one of the spines of a vertebra at the top of the tube top. She moved the blade downward, going under the tube top. The honed edge sliced the fabric like it was going through butter.

Dorothy, with a controlled rage, stated, “If you’re an adult and don’t need to listen to me, then you don’t need the clothes your father and I have provided for you.” The knife continued down until the tube sprung from her chest. The bikini top below it didn’t fall completely from Jane’s body until the knife edge ran further up, ending at her hairline. At which point it was pulled back, slicing the last thing holding the tiny triangles of fabric to Jane’s tits.

Jane blushed, and it was obvious she wanted to cover herself. Yet her current condition made that impossible and made it so her tits hung down in perfect cones. The cones being pulled downward made them appear a bit smaller, but the shape of her tits was still magnificent. The less-than-a-half-dollar areola stood atop each coned tit. The nipples in the centers were hard from the fear she was likely feeling. No longer being afraid of being sliced up, Jane’s hollering changed. “Fuck you, you can’t do this to me. Shit, John can see my tits. God damn it, you can’t treat me like this.”

“Why not?” Dorothy said. She turned the knife and slit the point under Jane’s blue short shorts. The shorts bowed out just to part, leaving the gleaming stainless steel blade in the center of the separated fabric. More of Jane’s bared hip came into view until the blade had fully sliced through one leg. She did the same to the other leg, gradually cutting the otherwise tight shorts. With neither leg intact, the whole sliced-up garment fell straight to the porch’s floor below her cunt. “Why do I have to follow what you think is right if you will not first do what I know is right?”

“Fuck!” Jane screamed, making it four syllables. “Let me go, you cunt.” Jane struggled against her mother’s hold. Her newly bald pussy lips jiggled with every attempted kick. Overall, she looked divine and very edible. Only the tears of frustration streaming down her face ruined the look. Jane finally spat out with spite, “Fine. I’m sorry. Now let me go. I’m fucking naked. I won’t tell anyone; just let me down.” She wiggled her body from side to side, hoping to get loose. Dorothy had evidently learned at some time in her past how the position she had Jane in was hard to get out of.

Both Dorothy and I knew Jane was not sorry for any of her behaviors. She was desperate to be let loose and cover herself up. And as such, she would say anything to get away. But knowing her daughter, Dorothy asked. “And your other punishment?”

Jane whined, still crying, “This ... This is my punishment. God, John, can see me naked.”

“No, this is not his punishment. In fact, it isn’t even mine. It is just the prep,” was her reply. “And John has seen naked women before. You don’t have anything he hasn’t seen.”

“Shit, you are sick. I’m going to let everyone know how sick you two are.” Jane threatened. Giving up on charming her way out. The defiance had taken away any hope that Dorothy’s motherly instincts would moderate her punishment.

Jane looked shocked when Dorothy asked, “Do you have any ropes handy? I want to keep her like this. But I could really use a dip in the lake.”

I don’t think I was as shocked as Jane at Dorothy’s plan to tie her down. But I was plenty surprised and did my best to hide it. “You plan on leaving her like that?” I pointed to Jane.

“Yes. It won’t kill her to be left there.” Dorothy said. “We’re not going to be gone that long.”

“Still, with the wild animals around here, she might look like bait,” I posed. I left off; a nude girl tied up on my front porch was not a good look for me.

“Fine. But she’s on her own from here on out. What she has now is all she is going to get from the family until she truly acknowledges her place in it,” Dorothy said, pushing Jane’s head down before releasing her grip on the girl’s neck. She then quickly unraveled the bikini bottoms, releasing Jane’s hands. To Jane, in a low, ominous way, she said, “We are done with you.”

Freed Jane quickly pushed up to standing. Her tits no longer were stretched downward and reformed in their sweet, firm, small teardrops. She did nothing to hide them or her shaved pubis. Instead, she ran hellbent to get away from her mother, screaming, “You’re fucking nuts.”

The teen’s ass movements were alluring as she ran into the woods. The cheeks moved up and down yet didn’t have any excess jiggle as they did. Her ass had the firmness of an active teen and good genetics, as Dorothy still had much of that same firmness in her ass, though eighteen years older. Jane’s cute butt was the last thing I noticed as she jumped a fallen log, heading away from her mother at a breakneck speed.

Dorothy turned to me; she said, “With Helen and Cheryl at the lake and Jane, God knows where, but not here. Now would be a perfect time for one of those quick fucks.” She paused, putting the bright blue bikini bottoms back on, showing off her pussy to tempt me.

“The girls are expecting us at the lake. And it is because we don’t know where Jane is we can’t,” I said, turning down what would have been a really great fuck.

“You’re right. Why do you have to be so grown up when we are here?” Dorothy paused like she was going to add something about Calgary. She stopped when I raised an eyebrow at her. We had never said we wouldn’t speak of it while at home, but it was somewhat understood. She knew her chances of getting screwed were at that moment close to nil, so she finished attaching her bottoms. “OK, let’s lock this place up and get to the lake. Jane will likely be back by the time we get back. I think she may actually understand the trouble she is in after being out in the woods for a while.”