Chapter 10

My mom told my father that she’d like him to hear about the new ideas for our restriction on a full stomach, so she kissed him and asked him to shower and change for dinner.

We were taught how to prepare dinner, and my mom said she would vary the menu. Still, she’d teach us several essential dishes first, before anything too complex. She introduced us to the Instapot and said she might leave instructions with Ethan and Nick on what to do before she got home so that it would be ready by dinner. “There are some things that don’t take that long, but you need practice. I don’t want you to make any dinner without my supervision yet.”

At first, I completely underestimated the value of what we were learning. I knew how to make really basic things like cereal, soup, or a sandwich, but I knew nothing about how to prepare an actual meal. It sounded so mundane that I just assumed I would eventually learn on my own.

At breakfast, I was overwhelmed; by lunch, I was perplexed. At Dinner, I was starting to see how there was so much to learn. Cooking seemed incredibly easy to learn but difficult to Master. I wanted to know everything there was to know about it.

I said earlier that Ethan getting us in big trouble was probably the best of the worst things that had ever happened to me. One of the lessons that I began to learn that morning was that there was an entire world of cooking techniques that I had no idea existed. We were just scratching the surface, and I had already learned so much from Holly. She had such a passion for butter and biscuits and I never really knew why—until I made them myself and smelled them for the first time.

Cooking a meal for the family was supposed to be a chore and a punishment we did on restriction, but I already felt proud of the food that I had made and how it turned out just like it was supposed to as long as I followed the directions. Mashed potatoes with gravy and savory fried pork chops were things that my mom or someone at a restaurant could make. Now, I knew how to do it, and they looked, smelled, and tasted exactly the same. It was like learning magic! Joy and I had made this food together and I had such a tremendous sense of accomplishment. I had been the one with the spatula working the stove and pulling things out of the oven.

It was real work, but it was rewarding work, and it made me feel like I was learning to do something that I needed to know for the rest of my life. Holly and I continued to bond; she was delighted at how quickly I picked up on her instructions. I appeared mildly enthusiastic, because this was supposed to be a punishment, but on the inside I was eager to learn.

Cooking naked was definitely humiliation. There is a lot of bending over to open the oven, or the fridge, and it’s just generally humiliating in a tiny kitchen surrounded by your family watching you learn to make new dishes for the first time. I would have preferred not to get my lesson while I was in the buff, but at a certain point I almost forgot I was nude.

It was easy to remember if I got too comfortable, all I had to do was look down and notice my tiny titties and huge bald clitoris showing between my legs like a tiny penis. Then I’d blush all over again.

We learned a great deal about how to use the right ingredients, what oil to use, and what pans worked best for different foods; there was so much to learn that it was overwhelming at first impression. It all excited me because there were so many mysteries to uncover. Joy tends to get overly excited and act very bubbly, even at a time while on restriction when we were supposed to look miserable and express remorse.

I couldn’t contain my curiosity and enthusiasm to learn more. “Don’t worry, Mary. You’ll get your chance, and come January 1st, I am sure you’ll have your fill of cooking,” Holly warned me.

I really didn’t think so. I felt like I was being trusted to do something reserved for adults. I didn’t want Holly to decide this was a reward and take it away from me. I tried to tone down my excited questions and remain very reserved so she wouldn’t rethink this part of the restriction. As far as I was concerned, I would have been happy to keep cooking for the family after January 1st. I might even want to be a Chef one day.

I also noticed my mom had several cookbooks. “Paula Deen?” I said as I held up one with a woman’s picture; she looked like a much older version of my mom.

“She makes every dish with lots and lots of butter,” she said, and told me I could borrow it to read if I got bored. “I know there aren’t a lot of books here, but if you have nothing else, then there is Paula Deen.”

I was thankful for anything new, so I gratefully accepted. We followed my mom’s recipe, what she called “Country Stroganoff.” It was beef, beef broth, butter, and egg noodles topped with sour cream. It was really good. We had a few sides, and instant mashed potatoes.

If anything, I was learning valuable life skills that I might not have learned before. My mom likes to cook, and because our kitchen is so cramped, I always just stayed out of the way before and never offered to help. I didn’t know how to cook and never thought I would ask her to teach me.

Now, she was showing me how to prepare amazing meals, and that was all part of what she considered a punishment. If I was not doing it with a bare ass, I would have been really flattered that my mom spent so much time and effort passing on her family recipes.

“Don’t tell our family recipes to anyone who isn’t related,” she said and then added, as a joke,. “Our great, great ancestors Betty Crocker and Sara Lee wrote all of them.”

I knew those references and grinned, but my sister didn’t and thought my mom was serious.

“I am just joking; a lot of these recipes have been in my family for years, and now they are in OUR family because I am passing them on to you. There is a reason that the old ways have been in the family for generations, and that’s because they work. I make food the way my grandmother made food, and I am sure she made it the way her grandmother made it if she could. I am just sorry it’s been under these terrible circumstances, girls.”

That was a very nice thing for Holly to say.

Once everyone was seated, we waited with our hands behind our heads.

“Do they really have to keep their hands up like that the whole time?” Dad asked as he sat down.

“Yes, that’s so we can see where their hands are,” my mom replied.

“Okay, if you say so,” Dad clearly disagreed. He asked what the new rules the boys proposed were going to be.

“Okay, I’ll take them one at a time. Ethan came up with a good idea, and I knew you wouldn’t mind, so we tried it out. Instead of the girls taking one bathroom break each and spending thirty minutes, he suggested they do it together.”

“Use the toilet at the same time?” Dad was horrified.

“That’s what I thought at first, but no. Ethan said one girl could brush her teeth while the other showered and the like. It worked and cut their time in half so they could get more done. Girls, did you mind doing that today? Any problems with it?”

“Not at all,” my sister answered for us and said she liked it. “it’s good to have someone to talk to in there.”

My father shrugged his acceptance without acknowledging Ethan for his idea. I didn’t see Ethan’s face, but I hoped he felt a little disappointed that my dad didn’t lavish him with praise like his mother did when he first came up with it.

“Nick also had a proposal; Nick, did you want to tell your father about it? You deserve the credit for it.”

“You can, Mom!”

“I told Nick that you and I had to discuss it because, at first, I was definitely not on board with it, but Nick explained it to me, and I would defer to your decision on it.”

“You made the decision on your own for Ethan’s idea, but let’s hear this one,” Dad said. I could see that he wasn’t particularly pleased with this so far. Holly remained undeterred.

“Nick pointed out that since the girls don’t have any privacy in their room and we removed their door, fifteen minutes in the bathroom with the door shut defeats the point. He suggested we leave the door open to deter them from misbehaving or lollygagging. Nick and Ethan wouldn’t stand at the door or anything like that. It would just be the possibility that someone may walk by and smell cigarette smoke or hear them, which would prevent mischief.”

“Hard pass on that one; I don’t want to hear toots and walk past what the girls may need to do in the bathroom. We discussed this. They are on the honor system there unless you think it’s a good idea.”

“Actually, I agree with you on that. There are some things that ladies do in private that men definitely don’t want to see. I wanted to give Nick’s idea a fair shot since he took the time to come up with it.

Dad acknowledged it with a nod of his head and asked for any other ideas anyone else wanted to bring up.

“You seem like you are in a sour mood; what’s wrong?” Holly noted my father’s curt manner.

“No, no, go ahead; what are the other things?” Dad asked for more details, but I could tell something was on his mind.

“If you didn’t like those first two, you may not like this last one; it was actually suggested by Joy.”

“The girls shouldn’t be making their own rules,” Dad admitted this was bothering him.

“This one was born out of necessity,” Holly explained. Instead of pitching it herself, she told Joy to tell her Dad what she asked and what they did today.

“When we were running around outside yesterday, the cold air started to freeze our vaginas and buttholes closed...”

“LANGUAGE!!” Dad slammed his fist on the table, and my sister stopped talking.

“I am sorry, honey. I should definitely have talked to you about a decision I made today first,” My mom took his arm and calmed him.

“I thought all decisions would be made jointly?” he asked rhetorically.

“Yes, but some operational decisions had to be made. This one was something of an update to my own conservative upbringing and parenting style. Please don’t get angry, and just let me explain?”

My father became sullen and nodded.

“You are a little more open-minded than I am about vulgarity,” my mom explained how she was raised, and why she had insisted on using terms like bottom hole the same way she had to us earlier. “I just thought that were some practical reasons to relax my own standards on words that everyone in the house knows and uses as long as it’s in the house and not around the company or in public places like the church.”

“I see.” Dad composed himself and apologized.

“What I suggested was that for practical reasons, because saying bottom hole sounds kind of silly and it seemed to be coming up in conversation much more frequently, I’d go ahead and accept vagina, butthole, boobs, and after some thought about it today, clit, as long as it’s in the context of describing a body part and not calling someone a vulgar name.”

“That one I like. I had to train myself to stop saying those words around the house, and I am fine with that as long as it is not excessive.”

“Are there any other words you think would be okay?”

“I kind of want to know why you would have to say clit when vagina should be sufficient?” Dad asked a question instead of answering her question.

“Mary, why don’t you explain your sister’s rule to your father and why we added clit to the list?”

I blushed when my mother asked me to do the talking. I hadn’t prepared anything.

“As my sister was saying, after a long time in the cold, our lady parts,” I stopped and started to correct myself. However, my mom said that Lady parts were still acceptable to use also and asked me to continue. “We know you have pictures of us where it looks like we were masturbating outside, but it was just a quick tug to keep our pussies from freezing shut...”

I stopped talking and waited to be lambasted for saying pussy. When all I heard was stunned silence, I continued.

“Vaginas,” I corrected before adding, “We asked if we could do that outside IF needed after at least ten minutes had passed. Just a quick pull or two, and Mom agreed. We knock on the door, and Ethan and Nick come to the window to make sure it’s a completely innocent touch. Then, we get back to work. Now that I have no hair on my VAGINA, my clit froze up, and I had to give it a couple quick flicks today. Mom said if the guys are mature enough to SEE something on our bodies, they should be mature enough to handle SAYING it in the proper context.”

“You flicked your clit a few times in front of your brothers while they watched from the window?” Dad asked with disbelief.

“Mom was there as well,” I said.

“Honey, I have serious doubts about this restriction. I was ready to lower the boom on the girls last night. Today, I feel guilty staring at them waiting like slaves being auctioned. They worked hard today, and they got a spanking. What do you say we call the restriction done early? I think they learned their lesson without us going any further?”

“If you really think so,” Holly agreed. It looked like we were getting a very early reprieve. I couldn’t be more overjoyed and thought my story was coming to an end. “I know we went at this a bit half-cocked and all, but I agree with you. They can wear some long shirts, and I’ve got an old coat that will fit them, and then this weekend, I’ll take them to town and get them some clothes at Goodwill. I was planning to use the laundromat because washing by hand in the snow takes far too long to stay outside for one session.”

“Can I ask a question?” Nick raised his hand, and my heart sank. What could he possibly say to change my parents’ minds? I hoped he pulled another one of his tantrums about Ethan getting his way and Nick not getting his. That wouldn’t go over well.

“Let me just make sure I fully understand what you are talking about,” Nick started out shaky. He came off snarky, and that was already a good sign. “The girls have been sneaking booze and cigarettes into the house, playing with butt plugs the size of tennis balls, and sticking them where the sun doesn’t shine for thrills. They flaunted their bodies down by the highway, playing with themselves and flashing their naked bodies long enough for me and Ethan to take pictures. They got so drunk they ruined an expensive washing machine and dryer, and ALL of their clothes, just to rebel so they wouldn’t ever have to wash clothes again, including the NEW sweater my mom bought for Joy’s birthday a MONTH ago while wearing anal whore panties, that they either stole or bought with money that they got from some unknown source, and who knows what else. You want to give them one day of cleaning and making three meals as a punishment?”

My parents were deeply offended by my brother’s words, and I was hoping they would shoot him down.

“First of all, Nick,” my dad cleared his throat. “I suggest you watch your tone with me. You aren’t the parent here; I am.”

This was going well. All I had to do was not smile.

“I am sorry, Dad, but all my life, I’ve followed the rules. Mom says we don’t cuss, I don’t cuss. She says read our Bible, I study the Bible. I am a good boy. I don’t smoke, I don’t drink, I don’t run around with my penis out showing it to strangers. What message does that send me, that you can do ALL of that, and the worst that might happen is a slap on the wrist, and you’ll spend not even a whole day cleaning the house up really good, and all is forgiven.”

Dad sighed. He looked around the table and put his hands on his face in frustration.

“All I am asking is, why not be consistent, Dad? Last night, you said that the girls needed a taste of their own medicine and needed to be disciplined and humbled. You said you would take the things they did for kicks and their privileges and remove their ability to choose when to do them, who to do them with, and how to do them, and this would be some sort of slut rehabilitation where they learn a valuable lesson. You told me it was like being forced to smoke an entire carton of cigarettes for daring to smoke one, and if the girls were going to do these naughty things anyway, we’d take the fun out of it for them by making them do it until they were sick of it. You said they’d be disciplined. They’ve been laughing all day long. I am supposed to be home with them tomorrow, and I can’t even talk to them, but they are the ones being punished? You said I am the deputy, Dad. I am not sure that’s how prisons do it, but maybe the wardens should get a suggestion box and see what the inmates think is the best time the prison guards can check to see if they have any new ideas for how to make prison more fun? We wouldn’t want to irritate the prisoners by making them listen to the prison guards!”

Nick was really fuming; I’d never seen him this amped up. He’d been quiet. I could tell this wasn’t some script that he rehearsed with Ethan. My stepbrother seemed equally mortified that our little brother was on a rant. I hoped he’d keep going, and Dad and push my parents’ button enough that they took Nick back down a peg or two. I wasn’t sure what I did to earn Nick’s wrath, but he clearly couldn’t keep silent any longer. My little brother clearly felt we weren’t getting the justice for the things that he and Ethan had framed us for doing.

I silently waited for Nick to put his foot in his mouth and crossed my fingers.

“The lesson here is that you can smoke, drink, flash truckers, break the washing machine, and the dryer, run around naked, play with dirty sex toys, destroy every article of clothes you have except for the one pair of panties that said anal whore on the back you took with you to go masturbate on the side of the road for your jollies and get away with anything. We certainly wouldn’t want to make the girls feel accountable for any of that. The lesson is that their parents won’t actually follow through with the punishment as they said they would. The lesson is that if I did anything as bad as that, would I get a slap on the butt and be taught to make grilled cheese sandwiches too? May I be excused, please?”

“No, you may not,” Dad looked up, his face grim. He took in everything his son had just ranted about, and I could tell Dad wanted time to process it all. I was hoping Nick would cry, cuss or call our parents names because then it would be all over for him, and he’d probably be in as much hot water as we were, if not more for his epic level rant.

Unfortunately, if you could believe we did what my parents thought we did, Nick’s melt-down came across as someone passionately asking how the punishment fit the crimes, and he was right. They really didn’t. If I were in Holly and Dad’s shoes, I’d probably have made us march around the property line in the snow until we froze our butts off, and I’d have wanted to spank our butts too.

I didn’t want to have to do more punishment, but I could see Nick’s point. I just hoped that my father thought of it as an outburst and rejected it off-hand.

Nick quaked in his chair. I could see that he was second-guessing his actions. I was glad I was standing behind him because I could see his little butt shaking back and forth like a duck in water. It was hard to suppress the thin smirk on my face because I felt Dad might concede a point or two, but he wouldn’t abide Nick raising his voice.

“You are absolutely right, Nick,” Dad began calmly.

Dammit, fuck! What?” That wasn’t a good sign at all. I’m sure my demeanor went from confidently hiding a smirk, to a sudden panic. We were THIS close to being off restriction and Nick might have just put us right back on it.

“We set out to do something. We stated our goals were to give the girls a taste of their own medicine, but on our terms. If they want to be nasty, we’ll make them stand there and be nasty to our faces. The example I your Mom gave about cigarette cartons was not meant to be taken literally. I don’t intend to make the girls smoke a carton of cigarettes or drink a bottle of booze until they puke. That was a metaphor.”

Holly interrupted and started to tell a short story about her father making her sister do that, but Dad asked her politely to let him finish. “We heard you tell the story last night when we deputized the boys and told them we needed their help during the day when we were at work because, frankly, we were out of options,” Dad said. “Nick, when I deputized you and your brother, I wasn’t looking for a prison guard. I was just looking for help. I completely understand the comparison, but prison guards have training and accountability, and they get hired to do a job. They don’t get drafted into it by their fathers. I wasn’t and I am never going to make you be your sisters’ keeper. The only reason we asked you not to talk to them was so that we wouldn’t have to deal with any bickering or drama that may arise. It wasn’t to make their lives more pleasant nor in some way demean you by forbidding you from talking to them. We asked you to check on what they did because you both seemed willing to help, and we thought you could text us if they get up to any shenanigans. Today, when you asked for the door to stay open when they use the bathroom, I understand your point, but I can’t put you in the situation of checking up on the girls in the bathroom even if you volunteer, understand?”

“Yes, Dad,” Nick looked ashamed of himself.

“I am not done, one thing I will ask is that if you have something to say like that, don’t bottle it up until it explodes. Show me the respect of talking to me like a rational person would. I am not hard of hearing, so the only reason you should ever raise your volume when talking to me is if I am far away and you need to tell me something. Did I make myself perfectly clear, Son?”

“Yes, Sir,” Nick’s body language was regretful, and he fidgeted a little without making eye contact with his father.

“We told all of you what those goals were and why. This is a small trailer. There was no point in trying to do that behind closed doors. You all saw what they did or heard about some of it. I even wrote down the rules from last night on a sheet of paper so that I wouldn’t forget them.

“The problem is that I am not a disciplinarian. When I see my daughters naked and hear they are getting permission to tug their clits by asking their brothers, there is a little bell in my dad brain dinging that tells me that I am screwing up big-time and that I need to rethink the outcome that I want to come out of this.

“We said it was tough love, and we meant it, at least at the time. But that’s two words: Tough and Love, and Love is an important part of that. You may feel we aren’t harsh enough, but what good is a lesson without Love behind it?”