Chapter 2

Mandy and I were cleaning up the mess we made. My mother had supplied us with brushes and cleaning supplies, but we were doing it completely naked. Mandy kept glowering at me like this was my entire fault. I wasn’t the one who twisted her arm and made her come to my party. I wasn’t the one who made her strip naked. I wasn’t the one who left her here. I HAD been the one to lay it on nice and thick that I’d agree to all of my rules if she had to do them with me so I could be a good role model for her. I can’t see why she would blame me for that. Mandy was the kind of cunt who would have done the same thing if the shoe was on the other foot.

Jenny, Buddy, and Lewis were off on one of their twisted little adventures around the neighborhood. I knew they liked to play little tie-up games of Cowboy and Indians. Recently, when Jenny had told me she wanted to be a naked pony outside in front of her friends, I pretended to be excited for her. I supplied her with some old pom poms I had and told her to stick them up her butt like a tail. I also gave Jenny some big hoop clip-on earrings she could attach to her nipples. I thought it would be hilarious if she actually did it, but apparently, Lori and Crystal Donaldson did it with her and thought it was fun.

“So what is your game, cunt?” Mandy whispered to me. We were now completely shaved from the waist down and looked like overgrown little girls. It was quite humiliating to lose my pubes completely. It just wasn’t done in the 1980s even though now it is something that is pretty commonplace.

“My game is that I am so sorry I was so mean to you and that I was a bad influence. I want you to learn from my mistakes, and unfortunately, it is going to be a series of unpleasant lessons. I do hope you learn to appreciate them though,” I answered her while trying to suppress my condescending tone to a mildly annoying baby voice. I peppered my speech with some tripe my Mom had said to Jenny about learning from her mistakes and the unpleasant lessons ahead of her.

“Bullshit, you wouldn’t piss on me if I was on fire,” Mandy was right about that. “You think you got one over on me, don’t you? The joke is on you, though. I used to play all sorts of wicked dare games when I was at Catholic school. You think cleaning up in the nude is going to make me a better person?”

“No, I don’t. I think you are literal garbage and there is no way to polish a turd like you into anything approaching a person. However, I want to see you clean in the nude because you hate it,” I hated it too, but that was beside the point. I didn’t think cleaning up in the nude would change me either, and I didn’t want to change. At this point, it was about doing the least amount possible to satisfy my mother while making Mandy and Julie suffer. I hadn’t intended to get Julie involved, but now I was warming to the idea that if I had to go down, so did she.

“I love to strut around naked. I just can’t do it around my house because Gerald and his goofy friends are there. I can do whatever I want here,” Mandy smirked at me.

I hadn’t counted on her liking to be nude.

“Well, jokes on you because I like to go to nudist resorts,” I lied. I had heard there was one south of Orlando called Cypress Cove.

“Then we have that in common, don’t we?” she said her family was annual members. I had to give her credit that if she was a liar, she was a damned good one.

“If that is the case then why would you care what Gerald sees around the house?” I whispered back.

Mandy was thinking of some answer when my Mom stomped into the room and slapped our asses with wooden paddles. We tried to defend our butts but my mom brushed our hands aside like she owned us. In a way she did now, but just for the summer. I would get my revenge against her somehow. I was already thinking of ways to get even with her for this humiliation.

“There is no reason to talk right now while there is work to do. If you are going to talk, I don’t want you to whisper. It sounds like you are conspiring. Now, what were you two saying?” My mom demanded.

“Mandy was just telling me how nudity didn’t bother her since their family are annual members at a nudist resort,” I smiled. I knew I would be able to get Mandy in trouble for lying.

“Yes, Cypress Cove. They’ve invited me for years, but I assumed it would make you uncomfortable. I’ll ask Liz if we can all go this year,” my mom said. I was stunned - that backfired spectacularly. I definitely wouldn’t have wanted to go some creepy nudist resort and look at sweaty old man penis flopping around.

She turned to Liz and told her that the casual nudity of Cypress Cove is nothing like this training. “Everyone at the campground expects you to be naked. If you wear a bikini to the nudist resort people will stare at you awkwardly because you stand out. In the real world, it will be the opposite. After you finish with this, I am going to send you outside to wash my car to demonstrate. You will have nothing on but sponges strapped to your tits, ass, and cunts and you will rub your bodies all over my car until it is squeaky clean. You will engage anyone that wants to talk to you with a friendly smile and polite conversation. I’ll be drinking lemonade in the shade supervising to make sure of that.”

I could tell from Mandy’s expression that she didn’t like that at all.

“As you are quite used to nudity, I will have to find ways to keep you more exposed than you are used too. As an example, you won’t be permitted to close your legs when seated in public. You won’t be permitted to hold your skirt down on windy days,” My mom assured her.

“Actually, I haven’t been to the campground since I was little. It’s more of a thing that Mom and Dad like to do without the kids, Ma’am” Mandy admitted and tried to look innocent. I was happy to find out she had been bluffing.

“Those two rules will still stand,” My mom said sternly and looked around the house. “This couch is an absolute disaster, and I’ve no way to remove the graffiti from this drywall without wallpaper. I may call Jerry and let him take care of it,” she suggested. She knew her ex-boyfriend Jerry gave me the creeps. He worked with drywall and had been over at the house recently.

She told us we had one hour to tidy everything and then we could break for lunch, get our first beating of the day and use the restroom before washing the car.

Once she left us to our tasks, Mandy whispered: “What have you gotten me into Cunt witch?”

“Mom, Mandy keeps whispering to conspire with me. Would you mind doing our beating now?” I asked. I knew I would get the strap anyway sooner or later.

My mom calls the black leather strap her father gave her “Tyrone.” He had called it “Nigger.” She told me he was profoundly racist and I believed it. Just like my little brothers Buddy and Lewis I had received strappings. I haven’t been spanked for many years, but they were never hard enough to make me cry and always on my bare bottom. I had begun whipping Jenny hard under her legs so that I could hit her asshole and her penis with it when I was allowed to whip him. However, she never cried out in anguish or anything, so I really wasn’t afraid of Tyrone. It was so strange how I now considered Eddie a girl but I rarely thought of her as a him even though I knew she had a penis. Jenny’s transformation had been pretty remarkable and she really seemed to thrive that way.

I would have liked to see George turned into a silly girl. George definitely would have been funny to watch and he would have hated it. Jenny seemed to love the changes and the discipline at this point.

It was worth it to ask for punishment just to see a look of betrayal wash across Mandy’s face. She had to know we weren’t sisters or in this together at all. It was every bitch for herself.

“I am going to introduce you to the punishment position. It is what Jenny calls the thermometer position,” My mother demonstrated by standing with her legs apart, her butt stuck out, her shoulders back. She interlaced her fingers behind her head and stuck her chest out in the air.

I knew my mom had a boob job and her tits were spectacular but with clothes on you really couldn’t tell what a fine, well-muscled body she actually had.

We assumed the punishment position side by side in the living room where Jenny normally stood to get hers.

My mom adjusted the arch of our back and made us look straight ahead.

“I want to introduce you ladies to your new best friend and mentor Luther,” My mother had a wooden paddle in her hand. It was spiked on one side and flat on the other and it very heavy with leather wrapped around it.

Luther was definitely far more imposing and intimidating than Tyrone. “I went through my closet and found some of my old things. This brings back memories. Your grandfather used to call this his Pimp hand, but I think Luther is a better name for him, don’t you?” She swung it menacingly.

Mandy looked like she was ready to run away.

“Aww, Mandy are you ready to give up? I am sure a little spanking will do you some good. I know it will me,” I said. My mom didn’t make me refer to her as Miss Mandy, and I was thankful for that.

“I’ll do each of you one at a time, and you can watch the other receive her spanking. I want you to stand face to face with your nipples touching,” My mom said.

“I am not a lesbian, Ma’am,” Mandy said. She had definitely sucked on Julie’s tits last night, and when all the guys couldn’t get it up any longer, we all three made out in front of them to get them horny again. We were drunk, but I knew she remembered.

“I am not training you to be lesbian. I am training you to be obedient. If everything you did was what you like to do and enjoyed, then this would be far from a punishment. Look my daughter in the eye and mash your tits together or I will add ten additional strokes from Luther to both of you,” she promised.

We reluctantly moved and adjusted ourselves to face each other. It was hard not to start laughing as I looked at Mandy, and she looked at me. It did seem absurd to be naked in my own living room with my ass exposed and ready for a spanking while a girl I loathed had her tits pressed to mine.

Then I received Luther’s first kiss, and oh my god - it hurt so bad. I wanted to scream.

Mandy’s face exploded with delight, and she asked me if I wanted to quit already. She was truly enjoying my pain. The pain that began on my buttocks as they rippled went straight up the nerves all the way to my brain and then back again and was already throbbing.

“One! Oh God! Thank you, Ma’am,” I counted. I was used to watching Jenny count, but I had forgotten what it was like to hear yourself thank someone after a spanking. It was deeply humiliating.

“God has nothing to do with this,” My mom spanked me again. This time the shock wasn’t quite so bad but the look of anguish on my face deeply amused Mandy. It would soon be her turn but until then I had eighteen more of these to count out, and I did so bitterly through gritted teeth.

My mother has a tendency to ask what she calls affirmation questions during any sort of spanking. It was the worst time to be asked a question that you are expected to be honest and answer completely and explicitly because while you are receiving pain and humiliation at the same time, you cannot think or perhaps that is the reason she chooses then to ask.

You have to answer fully, or she will not count that stroke and start again or sometimes reset the count to zero. I’ve done it often enough to Jenny that I knew that was a real possibility.

The questions usually have to do with what you are learning and why you are learning it. They also address your shortcomings and how you might improve, or they are just an opportunity for you to thank the person applying the discipline. I had a collection of excellent questions I had heard my mother ask over the years that I had asked Jenny, and it was delicious, making her answer them to my satisfaction.

Now that the tables were turned though and it was my turn, I was not interested in answering these questions because I didn’t want to admit to anything. I could always lie, of course, but my mom had a way of sniffing out lies, especially while she was applying an affirmation.

She started asking around the fourth swat.

“Why do you think it is necessary for me to use Luther on you and Mandy?” she asked.

“Four Ma’am, thank you! I don’t know yet. It is too soon for me to answer any questions about what I am learning because I don’t know enough to make an intelligent guess,” I thought that was clever and a way for me to excuse myself from playing the affirmation game for a little while with my mom.

“I know you don’t know anything yet. You are still unlearning your bad behavior. You do have experience strapping Jenny, though. I am interested in hearing why you think I need Luther for you,” she said and hit me again across the butt.

“Five Ma’am, thank you! I think because Mandy has a huge ass and you don’t want me to feel left out with a smaller strap!” I joked. My mom’s next swing was no joke. I felt it, and my knees buckled. My eyes flashed wide, and my mouth popped open. What made it worse is Mandy’s grinning pumpkin face staring back at me as she pushed closer to breathe in my suffering.

“Six Ma’am, Oh thank you! I shouldn’t have tried to joke. I think you are using Luther because we are big girls and we need big girl punishments.”

“That is a good guess. I have a variety of training implements that I thought I wouldn’t have much use for in my bedroom that I’ll introduce you to this summer. She hit me again, and I counted. My mom has a cadence to her rhythm when she is spanking that never changes just like a drummer maintaining a beat on a drum. “Only I can use Luther. If Jenny gives you a beating, it will be with bare hands or Tyrone,” she said and hit me again.

“Eight Ma’am! Jenny can beat me?” That was news to me.

“It is Miss Jenny to you, and yes, she won’t have as much authority as you had, and she will definitely not babysit. However, at times, it may be necessary for her to discipline you. I trust that won’t be a problem?” my mom asked on the downblow to her next swing across my ass. My butt was heating up from the intense pain.

“Nine Ma’am, no problem, not at all,” I said with a smile. Jenny’s arms were wet noodles. If she gave me my punishment, I would barely feel it. I could endure Jenny getting her jollies hitting my butt cheeks if I got a very light spanking. My Aunt hit me again, and I counted.

“Naturally, Jenny isn’t very strong so she will be taught how to spank your cunts and tits,” My Mom said sternly as the paddle crashed into my ass.

I could see Mandy’s expression of hilarious laughter change to one of grave concern even though I had a similar pained expression on my face.

“Your cunts and tits are some of the most sensitive parts of your body. They are not off limits for use in punishing you. Don’t worry. Jenny can’t just play with your body. I’ll be going over her limits when she returns today.” My mom told me.

I was sweating from the pain. It was also sweltering in the Summer in Florida even with the air conditioning.

“Now, as to Buddy and Lewis, you will be polite to them. You will refer to them as Master Buddy and Master Lewis or Sir, and they will not be permitted to punish you or give you direct orders,” My Mom said as she hit me again.

I counted and said, I understood. She was using this affirmation period to hammer home new rules. She told me that I would be spending time with them and playing with them in the future as well. That didn’t sound so bad, so I was not worried about it. I always avoided my brothers before but considering the alternative might be cleaning or washing the car then watching TV or a game would be a good alternative.

“I am very proud of you for volunteering for this Blair. I thought I would have a difficult time with you this morning. However, you are handling this better than I thought you would,” My mom said and hit my ass again hard.

I counted and thanked her. A small tear rolled down my face. I didn’t always listen to my mother when she talked to me, but she rarely told me how proud she was of me and that felt really good. It isn’t’ that my mom is stingy with compliments. I am the one who is stingy with giving people compliments. It is just that I so rarely do anything my mom could legitimately be proud of and I had been okay with that for a long time. I think I forgot what it felt like for her to be proud of me so I didn’t think about it anymore until then.

“I am sorry it came to this. I should have taken action a lot sooner. I could have applied discipline in smaller doses, and then Luther would not be necessary,” My mom said as she spanked me. I counted and said, I understood.

I should have seized on what she said and told her that it was her fault and that this was extremely uncalled for however in the heat of the moment all I could do was gasp out my responses. She finished with twenty and then she put the paddle in my face and made me kiss it. That was something new.

My mom told me to open my mouth and kiss the paddle that had just warmed up my ass with my tongue. I did as she told me.

“I want you to appreciate Luther,” My Mom said. She put her fingers under my legs and felt my pussy. I was wet. There was no denying that the spanking had released adrenalin, and my knees felt they were going to buckle. “You took him better than I did the first time,” My mom smirked and went around behind Mandy for her turn.

Mandy’s face went pale, and the first time she was spanked, she lurched forward and nearly knocked me over.

The second time she was spanked, she immediately put her hands behind herself and tried to defend her ass. My mom warned her that she would cuff and bind her hands if she moved them again and on the third try, Mandy did it again.

My mom pulled some rope out of the same box that she pulled Luther out of and quickly tied Mandy’s hands behind her head and then ran the rope around her tits, between her legs and back around her again. My mom said it was called Shibari, and it reminded me of the macrame she often did. That was something that was popular in the 1970s where you wove or knotted cloth to make decorative things. The knot she used to tie up Mandy looked like the ones she used to in the planter that hung in the living room near the Mama San chair.