Chapter 19

I poured water into a bowl and had to bend over at the waist to place the bowls on the ground. Mom told us that proper sluts face away from their betters at the table with their legs apart. I knew the old man was looking at my ass and even though he had already seen me naked I was freshly humiliated by his stares, coughs and sputtering comments about “seeing what I had for breakfast” from this angle.

He and my mother joked as if I couldn’t hear their crude comments about my body. “She is starting to fill out,” my mother said casually.

“Yeah, in all the right places,” Mr. Greenbaum remarked.

“Well, she still has some growing to do,” my mom flirted with him and batted her eyelashes while putting me down.

“Stop fishing for compliments and showing off for Mr. Greenbaum, down on the floor like a good doggy, where you belong!” my mom said.

“Arf! Arf!” Honey barked and got on the floor first playfully. Candy obeyed her and I reluctantly joined the other two girls like a stupid bimbo on the ground. I was defeated and I’d have to accept that for now.

It was nearly impossible once I was on all fours to actually lap up the water. My tongue didn’t work like a dog. I had to dunk my nose and face into the water and suck it in. I was so thirsty.

Everyone was laughing at us while we drank like dogs.

“I have a dog cage at my house that the previous tenant left behind,” Mrs. Hannigan offered.

“How much would you take for it?” My mom asked.

“I doubt it would fit all three of them, but I couldn’t accept any money. It is yours if you want it,” Mrs. Hannigan said she had no use for it.

“I can make them fit! We’ll come by whenever is convenient and pick it up,” My mom assured her.

Oh great, now I was going to be caged like a dog too? On display like a circus animal? I felt like things couldn’t get more over the top. Mom told us to stop drinking and get into inspection position with our hands behind our heads, and our butts stuck out as far as we can stick them. “Tits up, mouths parted,” mom instructed us that she meant the lips of our mouth and the lips of our cunts. “I want them both partly open and ready for inspection! I don’t want talking, I don’t want queefing, and I certainly don’t want FARTING!” she looked right at me as she said that last part and Candy and Honey giggled. I felt an inch tall at the inference that I was very gassy.

I could sense Vicky was watching closely with a sense of personal satisfaction and moral superiority that no one would dare think anyone of her standing would ever need this sort of discipline.

I added her to my list of people to payback. It was a list that was growing quite long, but anyone as tight-laced as she was probably had all sorts of perverse little secrets and skeletons in the closet. It would be fantastic if I could knock her down a peg or two to where I was right now. It would actually make the entire summer of slut summer school almost worth it if I could remove the smug look of superiority from her face.

My mom demonstrated how to hold the clothespins apart very wide and then let them bite into our nipples right in the center. Candy and Honey both hissed at the pain, but I was able to seethe quietly as the twin clothespins bit down around my nipples.

“You girls are getting exactly what you deserve,” Vicky said as she watched my mother’s demonstration of how to apply clothespins to a naked body.

“I’ve seen you cavorting with every Tom, Dick, and Harry at school and half of them think you are going steady!” she said.

“I don’t know a Tom with a Hairy Dick, is that one of yours?” Honey smirked. She hadn’t received the beating I had received. I was quiet and didn’t giggle at all. I clenched my jaw shut and waited with my hands behind my head for the inevitable bite of the clothespin on my poor little ‘old man’ in the boat.

He was starting to look like a raw cheeseburger hanging out of a bun after the swelling began from the spanking I had just received.

“You apologize to your better!” my mom purposely applied a clothespin to Honey’s pussy. She had a fat pussy, but my mom held her flaps open and put it deep inside her. Honey’s knees buckled, and she said, “I am sorry, Miss Vicky, you are right. We did play with a lot of boy’s heads! I was kidding!”

“I hope you are a better housekeeper then you are a comedian because you have a lot of cleaning to do. Get into Mr. Greenbaum’s bedroom and go over it all! Don’t let me catch you adjusting those clothespins!” my mom promised her. I was relieved she was going to apply the fourth one after all. I couldn’t imagine how she could apply one to the rim of our asshole. Honey’s asshole wasn’t puckered out enough there was anything to clip on too.

Candy was next, and my mom smacked her on the butt after she applied the clothespin. Candy winced, and my mom asked if it felt like she thought it would.

“Sugar made it seem like it felt good. She got me on that one,” Candy thought I played a prank on her to make her believe the clothespins felt good. “Well played, but payback is a bitch!” Candy assured me.

“There will be no payback. There will be no bitches, only good sluts. You are a team! I want you to work together. Get in that bathroom, and it needs to be clean enough to eat off the floor because you probably will,” she instructed Candy.

“They never eat at the table? Do they pray before meals?” Mrs. Hannigan was clearly a religious woman. I knew my mother had been raised in some kind of religious organization but that she didn’t believe in organized religion.

“They eat at a table if we go out of the house. Their hands are to remain flat on the table until they get permission and they never cross their legs when seated,” my mom said.

Mrs. Hannigan’s eyes went wide like someone shoved a hot poker up her ass. “That is unacceptable and unladylike. I understand that they are in this slut training as you call it, but there could be families at the table next to you. These girls are already bawdy temptresses,” Mrs. Hannigan said she drew the line with that.

“This is my program, and there is a method to my madness. All you must do is ask me,” My mom said she didn’t want us to show off our bodies to empower us. “They like to show off. They are pretty girls. They know that. They like attention on their terms. They like to be able to coyly cross their legs when they notice they have someone watching. The method here is to remove their power to choose when to be on display. They are always on display. They cannot close their legs, or they will be spanked in the restaurant. You said it yourself, even the most virtuous souls can benefit from seeing the atonement of a sinner to keep them from perdition,” My mom said calmly as she took a sip of her drink.

“You have a biblical background? Every time I’ve mentioned church to you in the past, you have seemed uninterested. It is any many who know the temptations of perdition!” Mrs. Hannigan said.

“The temptation of sins of vanity, excess, pride, gluttony, and lust are great enough to lead someone to a state of eternal punishment and damnation for the un-repenitent person. I’ve paid my penance, and I don’t fear eternal punishment. I am a good person who makes mistakes, and when my time comes, I will meet my maker with a smile and open arms to accept whatever they have in mind for the hereafter. I don’t need a church to teach me what I already know and have in my heart, but I thank you for the offer of fellowship. My church is all around you and the bodies we inhabit,” my mom said breezily like she has said this a thousand times before.

I was still standing there with my tits clipped waiting for my third clip.

“We can talk all day about this but to answer your question they are paying penance and atoning in their own way, but we do not do formal prayer,” my mom grabbed my clit, twisted it between thumb and for finger and snapped the clothespin tightly on my hood. I felt the familiar rush of pain, but none of the immediate euphoria that accompanied it. It hadn’t happened initially last night either. The pleasure sensation grew slowly over time with the constant desire to diddle myself with a finger or felt a lover’s tongue on my wet pussy but not being able to do anything about it. The vulnerable feeling of a persistent red ant biting into the sweetest and most tenderest spot on my body had electrified me and agonized me completely. If spankings were a hammer of sensations then this was a scalpel that could cut and turn me on at the same time and I was intensely humiliated to admit it to myself.

“Would it be alright if I did prayer when I babysit the girls?” Mrs. Hannigan asked dourly. She expected to be told no.

“I see no harm as long as you realize that they need to do a lot of work on themselves before they can ask for forgiveness from a higher authority. They must purge themselves of vanity, jealousy and lustful desires first,” my mom said.

Mrs. Hannigan said she didn’t agree with that, but she would abide by the decision and respect it.

I felt like I’d rather be spanked then have to open a bible and pretend to be in Sunday School, but I would do or say whatever I had to in order to graduate this program.

“Turn around, Fart Face!” my mom ordered me to stand holding my ass cheeks apart and face away from the couch.

“You keep calling your daughter Fart Face? I thought the idea was to make her demeanor match her name,” Vicky observed.

“It is a nickname just for times when we aren’t in public. I do want her to be Sugar, but I need to strip her of her prideful ways. That is why she can’t use euphemisms and must speak clearly about her body,” my mom said.

Vicky asked what a euphemism was.

Her Aunt reminded her she would be studying a thesaurus this summer and explained it was a mild or indirect word or expression substituted for one considered to be too harsh or blunt when referring to something unpleasant or embarrassing.

“Exactly, so where you might say you have a fundament,” My mom tapped my asshole with her fingernail and asked me what that was.

“My asshole, Ma’am,” I said.

“What is its purpose?” my mother asked. She had asked these during affirmations. I cringed because I didn’t want to say this in front of Vicky, but I knew I would have to do it or my mom would do it for me.

“My asshole is for shitting and amusing my betters. It is one of the most sensitive and formerly private parts of my body, so it is useful as a target of my humiliation to shame me and punishment” I answered what my mother had taught me during the affirmations.

“Exactly right, good job! You are a star student today,” my mom jabbed her thumb into my asshole and turned it to the side. Then I felt the clip bite into the rim of my asshole from the inside and the outside. “That should stay! You told them the fourth clip goes on your asshole, didn’t you?” she asked me.

“Yes, Ma’am,” I said.

“I didn’t tell you that. Why did you say that?” she asked me. She reminded I Was supposed to unlearn everything I knew and start fresh.

“I was in a hurry to get the clothespins, and they asked. I made it up, Ma’am,” I admitted. The pinch in my butthole was already overriding all the other sensation in my body. The nerves around the rim of my asshole had never felt anything rougher than that leather tail I had in this morning.

“What you have learned is worthless. It has gotten you nowhere. You persist in lying when it is convenient. Let this be a reminder of where that leads! Go into the kitchen and take every dish down and wash out the cabinets then wash the dishes and put them back in!” my mom instructed.

“Yes Ma’am” I was thankful not to have to give a full anatomy 101 on my body parts to Vicky and Mrs. Hannigan, but I hated the tiresome task I had been given.

My mom talked to Mrs. Hannigan for a while about a variety of topics. They had never spoke before more than a few minutes, and it sucked, watching them laugh and enjoy each other’s company. I could imagine they were laughing about ideas they both had to discipline us.

Mr. Greenbaum watched us clean and stared without saying much.

Vicky walked around and watched what we did. She enjoyed lording this over us.

“No one at school is going to believe the great Blair Conner was a naked little piggy!” she assured me.

“Let’s keep it that way, Ma’am,” I answered her.

“I like being called Ma’am,” she told me to use it more often. I remembered saying the same thing to Jenny when I was in charge of her.

“Would you say that you are delighted with what you see us doing and you have a story that no one is going to believe?” Candy asked Vicky loud enough for my mother to hear while cleaning near us.

“More cleaning and less talking, please!” my mom instructed us before returning to her conversation with Mrs. Hannigan.

“I wasn’t looking forward to this summer at my Aunt’s house. I’ve never been to the mountains, and it was either go there for the Summer or stay here. I am thrilled I decided to stay here. I get to check in on you little bitches,” she smiled at us.

“We are sluts, Ma’am,” Honey chimed in with a smile as she jiggled her tits playfully. The clothespins flapped back and forth as they swayed on Honey’s big boobs.

“You certainly are, but there is no reason to be proud of that,” she told Honey. “You are here because you are being punished!”

“Actually, I am here because I asked to be here. My mom didn’t care, and I thought I could learn something, Ma’am” Honey washed a mirror with a washcloth which caused her butt and tits to jiggle with each other.

Vicky didn’t believe her, but Candy and I both said that it was true.

“You are all admitted liars, so there is no reason I have to believe you,” Vicky told us and stuck her nose in the air.

“It is true, my mom basically dropped me off and said it was this or reform school. I thought reform school would be better at first, but I kind of like it,” Candy admitted.

“You like walking around with your boobs out, but you didn’t like the spanking you got,” Vicky said.

“That’s the thing,” Candy said that she didn’t like it, but she felt like she needed it. “I wanted to see you ruined at school if you dared tell anyone about my training. I wanted to get even with you for being such a snotty-prim and proper holier-than-thou phony. However, after the spanking, I didn’t think I was better than you anymore. It was like my bitch button was reset, Ma’am” Candy assured Vicky. I wasn’t sure if that was true, but it was convincing, and after my beating, I was feeling a lot less like a smart ass rebel.

“You can’t possibly enjoy this,” she said.

“We aren’t supposed to enjoy it,” I repeated something my mother had said. “Everything we do from eating off the floor to wearing these insipid clothes pins is supposed to take any pleasure out of what we are doing away. You should understand that. You are like a walking clothespin who sucks the joy out of any place you go, Ma’am,” I said.

Vicky told me to watch what I was saying because she could tell her mom and spank me.

“I am a bitch who makes fun of people. If she spanks me it because I deserve it. I accept that. I am learning something and becoming a better person through this training,” I said, and then I added, “You know it could probably benefit you.”

“How?” Vicky put her hands on her hips and scoffed.

“Never mind, you would never understand,” I said. It was a classic technique that worked like a charm.

“Tell me then!” She insisted. She may not have been interested in what I had to say if I had tried to sell her, but when I refused to tell her, she was interested.

“My mom said less talk and more cleaning, and you would never have the commitment or the self-discipline,” I assured her.

“I have more commitment and self-discipline in my pinky then you have in those big old ... old ... boobs of yours!” Vicky held up a pinky as she searched for the right words to use for comparison. I was flattered she thought I had big tits. They weren’t as big as Honey’s chest, but they were something to look at.

“It is just that Honey is voluntarily here because she asked to be in Summer school to help her learn to behave and appreciate people more, Ma’am” I started to explain like I was trying to offer her the secrets of the Universe for free.

“Oh no, I see where you are going with this,” Vicky became skeptical. “I am not going to take off my clothes and prance around with clothespins on my boobies all summer for a higher purpose!” she chuckled at the very notion.

“That isn’t what I am saying, but I can see why you concluded that Ma’am,” I said. That was exactly what I was saying, but she saw right through it.

“What she is saying is that if you had the self-discipline to know yourself and who you really are as Victoria Waxerman, then you could be completely naked, exposed and vulnerable and it would change nothing about who you really are,” Mandy added.

“That isn’t biblical!” Vicky said that no woman of the church would do anything like this.

“That’s hardly true,” My mom had overheard us and told us to come over to the couch.

“And no creature is hidden from his sight, but all are naked and exposed to the eyes of him to whom we must give account!” My mom quoted a biblical passage she called Hebrews 4:13

Vicky seemed shocked that my mother knew the bible at all, but Mrs. Hannigan wasn’t surprised.

“Even the devil himself can quote the bible if it served his need,” Mrs. Hannigan said.

“If the Devil wants to spread the good word of the lord christ by quoting the passages of the bible, then it is one case where I wouldn’t stand against him. The words are true if they come from the lowliest most unworthy sinner or those without sin!” My mother assured her.

Mrs. Hannigan couldn’t argue that case.

“Then the Lord said, “As my servant Isaiah has walked naked and barefoot for three years as a sign and a portent, Isaiah 20:3,” my mother said that she walked naked and barefoot on her own farm for years before she ever wore clothes and knew shame.

“I don’t understand how you can quote the bible like that? You must study it every night?” Vicky said to my mom.

“I lived it every day of my life,” my mom told her as if speaking mystically. I had never seen the spiritual side of my mother or heard her talk about her past like this.

“I shall purchase a bible as well as a Thesaurus for you,” Mrs. Hannigan assured Vicky that she would one day be able to quote the bible as well as my mother. It seemed like my mom had earned Mrs. Hannigan deep respect by being able to do that.

“The girls said I should volunteer for Mrs. Conner’s summer school!” Vicky tattled on us. I thought it was a direct reaction to being embarrassed she didn’t know the bible as well as she let on.

“The good news for you is that the class is full and we’ve already started our summer semester so even if you wanted to I wouldn’t accept you as a student,” my mom grinned and then glared at us. She knew we had been trying to talk her into being disciplined.

“You don’t think I would need to be in a summer program like this? You said it yourself, I am virtuous,” Vicky asked her Aunt with a worried expression.

“If a virtuous woman such as Mrs. Conner would submit to disciplines of the flesh to lead these girls out of temptation then I would think only those entirely without sin would be immune from the lessons within,” Mrs. Hannigan said without directly answering the question.

My mom told us to get back to work and stop trying to concern ourselves with Vicky’s welfare. “You need to focus on yourselves before you advise anyone else on what they should do,” my mom told us we’d be punished later for that but that she was not going to make Mr. Greenbaum endure watching another punishment.

Mr. Greenbaum reminded her he had all the time in the world but didn’t press the issue.

Mrs. Waxerman and Vicky finally left after twenty more minutes of talking. Vicky looked at me and stuck her tongue out at the end before she left.

“We were THAT close!” Candy chuckled to me that we almost convinced Vicky Waxerman to agree to be disciplined.

“Girls?” mom called us into the living room again.

“I know what you were trying to do and I don’t appreciate it. You are taking up all of my time. I don’t want any more students in this class. I don’t’ care how richly they deserve to be taken down a notch,” she told us. We apologized. She told us Mr. Greenbaum wanted to ask us something.

“Do you girls want a popsicle? You’ve been working awfully hard. Your mother said it would be alright,” he said.

That was surprising. We had been so much pain and humiliation, and we still had these clothespins on our body. The pin on my asshole was making it itch so badly that I wanted just to shake it off and let it clatter on the floor without anyone noticing. It was stuck between my buttcheeks like a tiny little tail sticking straight out.

“Yes, please!” we agreed quickly, and I was genuinely appreciative when he reached into the freezer and pulled out one for each of us. I didn’t care what flavor I got. I was just happy for something flavorful and cold.

Naturally, mine was lemon flavor, but I wasn’t going to complain even though Honey got fruit juice flavor. These were the old school popsicles that were basically shaped like a dick on a popsicle stick. We took our time sucking them, and there is literally no way a girl can lick these without making it look somewhat sexual.

My mom smoothly pushed her popsicle down her throat all the way to the base in front of Mr. Greenbaum, and she didn’t even wince. I saw it in her throat. The implication was that was a dick - his dick if he wanted it to be.

Mr. Greenbaum got the hint, and he looked nervous. He reminded me of a scared old rabbit sitting next to a female wolf that was going to have him for dinner. My mom exuded this dangerous kind of sexuality as she looked him in the eyes and removed the popsicle from her throat while licking the tip of it like she was french kissing it.

“Do you have a radio, Norm?” my mom asked him seductively.

Norman switched on the radio. An old Anita Ward disco song came on. The kind you hear when you go Roller skating. “You can ring my bell! Ring my bell! ring-a-ring-a!”

The other girls and I started to dance around and suck our popsicles while we finished cleaning with one hand and left my mom on the couch with Norman. I tried not to be creeped out by what my mom was doing.

I had played with boys emotions before, and I knew how to be seductive, but I had to give it to my mother. She was not playing hard to get. She was playing hard to stop!!

It was easier to dance around and be cheesy with the other girls than watch although there were times all three of us caught ourselves staring at my mother in awe as she masterfully played Mr. Greenbaum like a virtuoso would a musical instrument.

The music made the cleaning a lot easier, and we started smiling and having fun while we danced around the room. We danced with each other and giggled.

“How hard was that spanking that Mrs. Hannigan gave you?” Honey asked us playfully. She looked like she was jealous of what we endured.

“It was hard!” I admitted.

“I pretended it hurt way worse than it did,” Candy assured us.

“Bullshit, I saw snot running down your nose,” Honey smirked at Candy.

“How do you know it was snot and not cum?” Candy said and indicated she had sucked Mr. Greenbaum’s cock. “Why do you think he gave us these popsicles? he was happy!”

“Bullshit,” I said that Mr. Greenbaum hadn’t stopped staring at us the entire time long enough to get his cock sucked.