Chapter 17

Lynette and Emily were cleaning the bathroom, while Ann had Jason supervising her as she cleaned the kitchen. Ann took the order quite well, Brian thought. Being naked in front of her grandson must be getting easier for her now, he guessed.

Brian had thought it prudent to separate Jason and Lynette, since he remembered what he’d been like around the girl who’d taken his virginity, but Jason too, seemed happy to follow his grandmother to the kitchen, so he could keep watching her boobs.

Amanda had just cleaned up the rope Brian had used to secure them the night before in the living room, and was now laying out the purchases from the adult store, while carefully inspecting each.

“So how does it feel?” Brian asked Amanda from his recliner, where he’d been working on a document.

Amanda wasn’t sure what Brian meant. “Today? You mean the shower under the hose in the backyard, the maintenance spanking, or something else, daddy?” she asked with uncertainty.

Brian laid his tablet down. “It’s not even ten in the morning, May. You’ve been up since before seven, had breakfast, gotten some exercise, had some sun, made out with June and April, gotten Jason off in his pants, tasted my cum, had a shower, and been spanked. That’s probably more than you would have accomplished in a week at Dunk’s. How does that feel?” Brian expanded his question.

“Well, I’ve never tasted uncle Dunk’s cum, EVER, daddy,” Amanda reiterated, “but I think I know what you mean. It really has been a productive day, when you put it like that. I sure could use a coffee and a smoke though, if you think I’ve been good?” she asked hopefully.

“Want to fuck afterwards?” Brian asked in response.

Amanda thought for a moment that she’d heard Brian wrong. But there was no mistaking a question like that for anything else. She was so stunned she couldn’t even pop out a smart quip.

“Really, daddy? You’re changing your mind?” she replied, her eyes large. Then she shut her mouth, and looked down. She didn’t want Brian thinking she was actually interested in him, in that way.

“I want to talk about it. Ed convinced me of the same thing you’ve all been whining about since yesterday. Well some of you, anyway. Ann whines about the temperature in the hallway not suiting her. But you know what I mean.”

“So you want to renegotiate the rules then, Sir?” Amanda sought clarification.

“You could say that. I’m giving you an opportunity to cancel any agreements we have and to walk out with Emily this morning. No hard feelings. OR, I’m soon going to get you between my legs and feel your mouth on my cock. I see this as training. I know if you had to choose between me and young Jason you’d choose neither of us, but the point is, that you don’t GET TO choose.

Later, it could be you and Jason, or you and the FedEx guy, for all you’ll know. I figure I can’t deny that you make one hell of a slut, May. You’re becoming a walking wet dream, the longer you’re here, even though I still see you as my daughter, too. What do you say to that?”

Amanda didn’t know what to say to that. It was such a direct statement, and she heard it as a compliment, but it was Brian saying it, not some stranger. She decided to avoid his question by asking one of her own. “What about Emily, daddy?” was Amanda’s considered reply.

“What about her? Does she give good head too? Jason says she kisses pretty good,” Brian shot back.

“So you’d fuck her too? That’s what I was asking, Sir,” Amanda pressed.

“I’m not really sure, May. But if I didn’t, she’d still be exposed to us fucking. It’s not something I’m going to sneak away to make you do. Since it’s training and not an illicit affair, it’d happen in the house. Maybe not the public spaces, but she’d certainly know what we were doing or had just done. It doesn’t seem like Emilys been too traumatised by what she’d been exposed to, so far, so why not? The big thing is that she IS still a schoolgirl. Do you think she can handle it?” Brian asked quietly.

“She ... she wants stuff, daddy. You’d have to make it worth her while. She was PISSED, that I took a coffee as a reward for flashing all those people at Starbucks, but even though this is a way more intense suggestion, I think she would do it for the right price. Actually, she’d probably be all over that shit, but not because you’re ‘Stud of the Year.’ Sorry, daddy.” Even with the air quotes, Amanda actually did look like she meant it.

“What do you think her price is, then? I mean, for unlimited fucking with anyone she was assigned to? That came out wrong. I’m not really a dirty old man. This would be about giving up a huge personal freedom. The freedom to say no. So with that at stake, would she want a new wardrobe, a computer, maybe even a car?” Brian asked, trying to gauge the cost of including Emily in the amended rules, while knowing it wouldn’t be cheap.

“College,” Amanda said in a single word before continuing. “She’s flunking out of school and it’s mostly my fault. I accept that, but it doesn’t change the fact that she’s super smart, and she’s getting ready to fuck her whole life up, by following my example. If she was motivated, and didn’t have to worry about how she was going to pay for college, I think she’d do just about anything, including getting good grades, for her last two years at high school. She might even enjoy some of it. Last month, we talked about getting her on stage with me at a strip club, if that gives you any indication of where her mind’s at, daddy,” Amanda admitted with a blush.

“I see,” Brian said calmly, while feeling anything but calm inside. His first thought was the fifty to a hundred thousand dollar price tag that came with a simple college education. “When you say college, are you talking about those party schools that rich parents send their kids to, or a school that takes education, and career, seriously, without the exorbitant price tag?”

“It wouldn’t have to be an Ivy League school, daddy. Just one that would provide a REAL degree in a REAL field of study. Something that would be useful to a career, and not a degree in women’s studies or some shit like that, that’d never help her do anything useful with her life.”

“Do you consider a community college to be a real college?” Brian wondered aloud.

“If they’re accredited, sure! But even that is never going to happen without someone like you helping. And even then, April is ... resistant. She WANTS to be like me. She LIKES hurting others, and messing with their lives. And I made her that way. Tough Love was supposed to show her that there’s another way, and I haven’t figured out if it’s working, or if she’s just goofing. Maybe I need it more than her, or maybe it’s too late for her already, but it seems to me that she’s not getting as much out of this as I am, at the very least. I’d hoped she would. I’d hoped...” Amanda stopped. Brian could see that his stepdaughter was actually getting truly emotional.

“I understand, Amanda. I really do,” Brian said gently, using Amanda’s real name - a fact that didn’t escape her attention, despite her emotional state. “What about you? What is YOUR price?”

“I’m good at sex. Fucking is the ONLY thing I can do well. I can deepthroat any size cock and take big old fat schlongs in my ass. I’ve been in orgies with guys, girls, whatever. And I’ve done the slave and master thing, too. I was good at that. I’m good at following instructions, when I get into the right mindset, ya know? Unfortunately, those skills don’t translate too well to a decent profession. Unless you call whoring, a ‘decent’ profession,” Amanda laughed dryly. “You want to know something funny? I’ve never actually BEEN a whore before, either, daddy. I mean not in the sense of fucking for money. I use relationships to get what I want, not strangers.” Strangers are for shitting on, and stealing from. So, what do I want? I want Emily to be nothing like I turned out.”

“And if I said I could figure this all out for you? Would you be in? Would you do your part to force Emily to do what was best for her too, or would you quit when it got too hard?” Brian asked earnestly.

“Look, Brian. I can see that you’re not screwing with me. I will do whatever I need to, to give Emily another chance. I’d dance naked on the front porch of the White House, and screw every Secret Service agent that would have me, if that would guarantee Emily’s future. Let’s not bullshit each other here. Can you save Emily from becoming me, or not? If you doubt yourself, I’ll know it. It’s the only other thing I’m good at.” Amanda glared at Brian, daring him to disagree with her.

“And how long would you agree to stay in service to me, as a fuck slut, bondage whore, if I CAN save Emily? Tough Love was a month. You’re suggesting something over a lot longer period than that. Don’t you care about having a life of your own at all?” Brian did challenge Amanda.

“If this house was burning to the ground and I knew Emily was inside, I’d run in without thought. If it was you or mom? Probably not. I’m still a selfish cunt, but at least I know what I am. I’d love to be something other than what I am, and if you can change me, I’m all yours, maybe for as long as it would take. But Emily, she is my immediate priority, okay?”

“No. Not okay. Despite everything I’ve put you through, and that’s after everything you’ve put everyone around you through, I still consider you family, and family comes first. It’s all good and well that you want Emily to be successful. Noble of you in fact. But understand this. You want that because you’re her mom, so you should understand that as your dad, I want the same for YOU, too.” Brian insisted.

“You want me to go to college too? You’re crazy!” Amanda scoffed.

“That’s not what I said, Amanda. Listen to me! I SAID, I want you to be a success. If you become a successful accountant, that’d be cool - but if you preferred to be a successful whore, that would STILL be a success to me. To me, success and happiness go hand in hand, and it doesn’t really matter what profession makes you happy. What DOES matter, to me as your father figure, is that you’re not climbing over the broken bodies of people you’ve destroyed to be happy. If going back to school would make you happy too, we’ll figure it out.”

“All I know is what I don’t want. I don’t want to work at a gas station or fast food place. I have no interest in working in an office, nine to five, and I’m not qualified for that anyway. Don’t you see? I’m too old to go back to school, I have no interest in it, and I have zero qualifications otherwise. The only good idea you’ve had, is me being a whore.”

“So I’ll make you a whore then,” Brian shrugged like it was absolutely no big deal. “You said you were good at fucking,” Brian replied, confused at her reluctance to seriously consider that option, even though on the surface, it would be the best fit for someone with no dreams for themself.

“Yeah. Then Emily would have a whore for a mother. You didn’t hear me, Brian. I want Emily to be nothing like me, but why would she have to be disgusted with me?” Amanda complained.

“Emily is already disgusted with you, Amanda! She thinks you’re selling out by agreeing to this. It’s written all over her face, what she thinks of you. The way she talks to you, speaks volumes and the way she acts towards you, screams disdain. She already has ZERO respect for you, even though I know she loves you. The way I see it, you’re right. She IS just like you. But you have one advantage.” Brian told Amanda.

“And what’s that? I want to change and she doesn’t?” Amanda scoffed.

“Okay, two. I was going to say that your advantage is that you know things she isn’t old enough to understand yet. I’m not saying she’s not mature. She just hasn’t had the life experience you have. If you did become a whore, and she saw that it wasn’t like in the movies, that it’s actually hard work for very little reward, how do you think she’d look at you, when you DIDN’T quit? Would she think less or more of you?” Brian posed the question that Amanda had been avoiding.

“I don’t know,” Amanda eventually admitted.

“Alright, think about this then,” Brian tried. “If Emily received first hand experience as a whore herself, for a little while, would that color her perception of you?” Brian asked bluntly.

“I dont WANT her to be like fucking me!” Amanda said hotly. “Jesus!”

“Yet she’s already like you. In your words, she was one step away from being a stripper. Strippers get paid to get guys off. Whores get paid to get guys off. What’s the difference?” Brian asked, raising his hands, with his palms up, as if weighing the tasks and finding them equal.

“If I knew, and could do whatever it took, by myself, I wouldn’t be here. So you tell me. You sound like you’re convinced I should be a whore. That’s fine. I’ll do it. I wouldn’t do it by myself, but I’m here, and I get to avoid having to make that choice. It’s what I wanted anyway. No choice. Does Emily HAVE to be a whore, or is it enough to make her see how hard it is for ME to be one? I don’t fucking know that either! If YOU decide, and it fucks her up, YOU’RE the one to blame, not me.”

“And THAT, my dear, is why we’re not doing the Hard Way Plan. If I gave Emily the choice of being a whore or doing well at school, I know what she’d choose, and to be clear, it would be spreading her legs, because she thinks that would be the easiest way.” Brian predicted.

“If you threatened to literally fuck her, if she didn’t do well at school... ?” Amanda considered the idea.

“That puts everything off for another three to four weeks. That sounds just like you, Amanda. Avoidance. Pfft.” Brian scoffed.

“So ... what’s going to happen?” Amanda asked quietly.

“We’re going to continue with the Tough Love. Ann and Lynette and you are going to get the dick you all seem to want. If Jason is willing, he’s going to have a sex-fest. I’m going to put it in you too. Why not? You make me just as hard as Lynette and Emily do. But, you’re going to be cum receptacles.”

“And Emily, daddy?”

“Emily isn’t going to be subjected to having a dick in her ass yet. I need to see how she handles seeing you lot, take cock. If she’s still not traumatized, I’ll introduce her to submitting to that too because I do NOT want her, as you put it, feeling disdain for you being a whore.” Brian declared.

“But Lynette goes back to being a bible thumper tomorrow,” Amanda reminded Brian.

“We’ll take each day as it comes, May. Daisy seems to have loosened up this morning, and she might want to atone some more,” Brian offered, moving back into the use of their slut names again, signifying that their uncensored conversation was at an end.

Amanda still had a hundred questions, but instead she replied, “Yes, daddy.”

Amanda had spent the last hour hand washing the valances, from over the windows in the living room, while Ann hand-dusted every knick knack she’d accumulated, on every open surface. With the blinds open and the valances down, the room looked shockingly dusty - and bright.

The hardest part for Ann was not the broom handle Brian had used as a spreader bar to hold her legs apart, or the rope that bound her wrists in front of her, and wrapped around her neck, but that the windows were not covered. She could see the road as clear as day, and had scurried off to one side every few minutes, when a car drove by.

What she didn’t appreciate was that the glazing on the windows made it impossible for a casual observer to see into the living room anyway, so she was only wasting time, every time she panicked and hid.

Lynette and Emily were upstairs giving the much-used study a spring clean. Emily had pulled the Playboy magazine out of its hiding place and opened it to the ‘Girls of Spring Break’ pictorial, in order to get Lynette’s kids, Tony and Tara, in trouble.

Lynette had not taken the bait, and the two had instead begun a conversation about what parts of a man’s and woman’s body, were the most sexy to look at. Emily was finding that Lynette, when she wasn’t being a stuck up cow, was actually kind of fun to talk with.

Brian and Jason were in the backyard with string, stakes, and a measuring tape, planning, drawing, and marking off the area where Brian wanted his corral. Brian wanted Jason intimately acquainted with his vision, since he’d have to return to work Monday himself, and Brian was going to have Ann, Amanda, and Emily continue with the grunt work, under Jason’s supervision.

“You understand that Daisy’s only here today and tonight, Jase,” Brian said as he finished up the rough drawing of the corral. “Tomorrow she goes back to her loving husband and two kids - your friends. I know she persuaded you to butt fuck her, but that doesn’t mean she loves you, like she loves her husband. She mostly loves your impressive cock. Tomorrow, she goes back to being Mrs. House, and anything you do with her today, will have to be absolutely locked up tight in your memory. Just think of it like Tony telling you he’d fucked Dalia’s ass, in your bed. You’d probably be pretty pissed. So, is it okay with you that no one says anything?”

Jason had to hide his surprise that his grandfather knew about him having sex with Lynette. He used the idea that Brian thought of him as a regular self centred teen to cover his reaction. “I know I’m young, grampa, but I really wasn’t born yesterday. Can you tell me something? Mr. House, is he a nice guy?” Jason asked.

“Feeling guilty about fucking his wife, son?” Brian asked, then answered Jason’s question, before asking another of his own. “Yeah, he really is. But if he was an asshole, would that have made a difference?”

“I wouldn’t feel so bad. I know if she was MY wife, I’d want to kill the dude that screwed her,”: Jason admitted.

“Because you felt you owned her, or because you thought it’d be rape?” Brian posed a question Jason hadn’t even considered.

“SHE came onto ME! I promise! And I know Mr. House doesn’t think he owns Daisy. He’d just be real mad if she got caught messing around on him.” Jason blurted.

“Some guys do get real mad. Mad enough that they would actually kill the person who screwed their wife. Others send their wives out to get screwed, because it gives them a thrill. Still others wouldn’t care if their wives are getting sex from them, or someone else. How do you know what Mr. House feels, when it comes to that? Did you ask him recently, or something?” Brian asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No, but I would...” Jason started before Brian cut him off.

“As you get older, I would hope that you’d learn not to judge others, too much, by your own standards. Having different viewpoints is as important as getting approval for your own. Here’s the thing. If you were married to Daisy and she screwed around on you, you’d get angry at her, and at whoever the other person was. Why?” Brian asked to make Jason think.

“Because it’s not right!” Jason said, without pause.

“Not right for her, or for you?” Brian pressed.

“If she were my wife, she’d be MY wife. Not ... shit. I am talking like I own her, aren’t I?” Jason caught himself.

“And that’s okay too, son. You just need to understand that if the woman you marry is happy to be your property, then it’s okay to feel that way. If she’s not, then your marriage will fail anyway.” Brian said.

“But I don’t want to OWN my wife. I just want her satisfied, with what she’s got.” Jason whined.

“Then you’ll find out what totally satisfies her, when the time comes. If you fulfill all her needs by yourself, cool. If she needs variety to be satisfied, would you still marry her?”

“If she wanted to be married but sleep around? I don’t know. Maybe. I guess. If I could too.” Jason admitted.

“So you just changed your mind then? A minute ago you said you’d be pissed. Now your saying that if you could screw around too, you’d probably be okay with it. People do that all the time. It’s called an open marriage, where sex is just a fun passtime, and not the be all and end all of love. My advice to you is to let Daisy, and Frank, be in charge of their own marriage, and you look after you. Bet you can’t stop thinking about that butt fuck, right?” Brian grinned.

“So we’re cool if it happens again, before Daisy leaves?” Jason said, his mouth practically watering at the prospect.

“I’m thinking of changing the rules, Jase,” Brian admitted. “It seems that everyone thinks I should. But someone once told me, it’s bad to keep changing rules, and that stuck with me.”

“Depends on if it’s a good rule though doesn’t it, grampa?” Jason asked.

“That’s just it. The rule I’m thinking of changing WAS a good rule, in my opinion. But things change, though. Needs change, and circumstances change. Yesterday morning, when I woke up, the rule was that I make coffee. It was always an unspoken rule, but a rule nonetheless. Tomorrow, I doubt I’ll be the one doing it, because we now basically have house slaves, to do the menial work. To them, it’s a new rule. What if I added a rule that said, the oldest had to make coffee? Then there’d be another rule change. Ann complains, and I change the rule again, to make it the youngest. Emily complains. I change the rule a fifth time, so each of them gets a turn.”

“Then why didn’t you make a rule like that in the first place?” Jason asked.

“In the first place, it was just me and Ann. I made coffee. I wasn’t aware that my circumstances were going to change. Then came Amanda and Emily, and circumstances changed, so the rules changed. Then you came for a visit, and Ann got demoted, so the rules changed again, and again. The person who told me it was bad to keep changing the rules, insisted that it would be too confusing to keep track of what rules to follow, and I agreed with them. But now I’m not so sure I do. Stupid rules with no reason behind them, followed blindly, because they’re rules, create robots. I really value your opinion, Jason. You proved that already today, with June and the cum.” Brian said earnestly.

“So you want my blessing on your decision to change the rules?” Jason asked in astonishment.

Brian rephrased his question. “I want your honest opinion, Jase. Would you blindly follow a set of rules that you didn’t make and didn’t know the reason for, or would you want to understand them and question changes?”

“When you put it like that, of course I’d question changes!” Jason replied with a dismissive hand gesture. “Who wouldn’t?”

“What if the original rules were valid, and the person following them just didn’t appreciate the reason for each? Should they STILL follow them?”

“Where are you going with this grampa? Of course they should.” Jason insisted.

“April, mostly. She has her own ideas of what the rules should be, and she ignores anything that doesn’t meet with her approval, or understanding. If I change the rules, would it even matter?” Brian finally got to the crux of his dilemma.

“She dropped the F-bomb with every sentence before today. She’s never ever called me Jason before. She preferred to call me Fuck You, even in front of my mom. Have you heard her call me that particular name, at all today?” Jason asked.

“She’d get a spanking if she did, and she knows it. You could argue that she’s actually trying, but I wouldn’t say she’s trying really hard,” Brian admitted.

“I did hear her call me Master Jason today,” Jason reminded Brian. “Yesterday, was fuck you, or dick face, or whatever, then Sir, although she forgot a few times. Now it’s Master Batter or Master Jason. She changed her own rules a few times, and she has made some sort of effort to abide by the changes we keep making,” Jason impulsively gave himself some of the responsibility for rule changes. “If you really want my opinion, I think she’s motivated. What motivates her isn’t quite enough, to make her try really hard, but it’s something,” Jason analysed his example.

“Do you have any idea what’s really motivating her?” Brian asked, daring to feel hope in Jason’s answer.

“Sorry grampa. I’m just as surprised as you. I mean it’s like a vacation, not checking over my shoulder 24/7, but you’d have to ask her.”

Lunch consisted of sandwiches. Brian had put Amanda in charge of that meal, feeling that she deserved a test to see how she’d fare, both with looking to see what was available, as far as ingredients were concerned, and with what she did after she’d created it. Brian was pleasantly surprised. Not with the choice Amanda had made, but with the presentation. She’d cut all the sandwiches into fingers, after carefully trimming off the crusts - somehow knowing Brian didn’t like crusts.

The sandwiches were laid out on a platter, and each place setting had a glass next to each plate. Brian made her serve herself, before he’d allow anyone else to pull a sandwich from the platter, and was surprised, and pleased that Amanda didn’t try to pull from the bottom of the pile, or show any adverse reaction to his demand, when she put two sandwich fingers on her own plate. After she’d taken a bite, and didn’t choke on hot sauce, handfuls of salt, or any excrement smeared on what she had, Brian judged that it would be okay for the others to help themselves.

Then Amanda stopped eating, got up, and went to the fridge, where she produced a jug of kool aid, to serve to each family member. The food tasted just like sandwiches and the drink tasted like blue kool aid,.the only thing Brian had to remind Amanda, was, to ask before getting up from her seat.

Brian was impressed with Amanda’s actions, but disappointed in Ann and Emily. Neither had thanked Amanda for anything she’d done. When he asked, Ann was quick to explain that you wouldn’t thank an employee for doing their job, so why would Amanda be thanked for doing the minimum she could do, either?

“Let’s talk minimums for a minute,” Brian replied, to Ann’s assessment of Amanda’s lunch.

“You and Daisy made a nice breakfast. I remember telling you how good it looked and thanking you for it when I was done,” Brian began. “I did that because I appreciated you going to the effort to make me something to eat. You think I shouldn’t have, because you’re simply the cunt, who was told to make it?”

“Well first of all, we put a lot more effort into it, than May did, Sir. Anyone can put a slice of cheese and tomato on bread and call it a sandwich. She probably spat on the tomato too, though.” Ann guessed. “Then there’s the fact that she was doing it for herself, as much as you, or me. It’s like thanking someone for helping themselves.”

“If I made you a special dinner tonight, something that I’m not eating myself, and I made specially for you, would you thank me for my effort and creativity?” Brian asked.

“Well of course, Sir! You’re my husband and it’s the little things, like that which show me you love me,” Ann replied.

Brian was perturbed that Ann was still thinking of herself as his wife and insisting on retaining the relationship label, even after being punished for doing so, but he didn’t want to lose focus on the point he wanted to make. Her being hard-headed was no less than he expected anyway.

“So you’re saying that if I get off my ass later, go to the pantry and find some quick oats, heave my fat ass all the way to the cabinet for a bowl, add water from way over at the faucet, and then lug that bowl over to the table, find you a spoon, and tell you to eat, the first thing you’ll think of to do is to thank me for my effort? I’d lay money on that NOT being your first response, June,” Brian said coldly.

“I wouldn’t eat it anyway, Sir,” Ann replied in indignation. “That’s not how you make oatmeal, it’s not supper food and it sounds disgusting.” She said, counting off the reasons on her fingers, for being appalled.

“It’s food, I went to some effort to prepare it and I even provided you with a way to eat it, so that you wouldn’t have to put forth any extra effort yourself. It’s also one of the Tough Love rules. You eat what you’re given, whether you like it or not. You wrote that rule, so you know it. Stop!” Brian warned Ann, seeing that she was about to argue.

“You raised Amanda to expect to be treated differently than guys. To expect gratitude, platitudes, and to be able to do pretty much whatever she wanted, and to be able to get away with it, simply because she’s female. You did that because YOU expect the same. Now that you lot have lost your special positions in the family, you think that it’s okay to treat each other like shit. Hell, you did before anyway. We talked about the Hard Way Plan at Dunk’s. Under that plan, you WOULD be treated like a subhuman to help you understand what you lost and how much better the Tough Love Plan is. Maybe May was doing her best - was on her best behavior when she made lunch. She even made kool aid to go with your sandwiches, and chilled it in the fridge before SERVING it to you - without even being forced to!”

“Well that was nice of her. Thank you May. I hope you feel special now that I’ve been publicly humiliated in front of my husband, my family, and my friend,” Ann said to Amanda, tears coming to her eyes.

“I can see that I’m not getting through to you, June. You just made this about you, like you always do. The only difference between you and Amanda is that at least she KNOWS she’s a cunt. You don’t even believe that about yourself. If the points system I’m thinking about was ready, you would just have lost a bunch of them for that outburst. After lunch you’re all headed back outside. We’re going to break ground on my new project. Jason is going to be in charge.”