Chapter 3

“As you can see, I am a very hands-on learner,” Juliette placed her hands on my chest and rubbed me warmly. Her touch alone was boner-inducing. “I believe in show and not just tell,” she explained as she pointed to Becky’s butt. “Your Father gave me explicit instructions not to teach you how we live without him here. However, he is a big believer in the show must go on,” she said.

She was right. My Father used that phrase all the time whenever I wanted to stay home from school, or anyone wanted to procrastinate. “The show must go on,” was one of his catchphrases. My older brother believed in it, too, and he often fought through injuries to get back out on the field when he played Football.

“The best-laid plans don’t usually survive contact with reality, though,” Juliette said. That wasn’t one of my Father’s catchphrases at all. He was a planner by nature, and he liked to have a plan for the likely and a philosophy for how to handle the unlikely. He liked everyone to know their role and all of the rules of the game before anyone ever began playing it. It was probably why he wanted to wait until he could be home to tell me about this crazy new lifestyle.

“I had to make a judgment call when we caught you peeping tonight. I could either tell you to get out and leave everything to your limited imagination to fill in the blanks of what I told you or I could show you and explain why we do the things the way we do. If I just told you about it, then you have nothing but your preconceived notions to fill in any gaps that you don’t understand. I MUST punish the girls for what they did tonight whether you stay or you go. In the morning, I will text your Father. It is much too late and he had a lot of driving to do for me to do that now. He will tell me what to do after that. Right or wrong, I am offering to let you observe and participate in a demonstration of our nightly evaluation and punishment rituals. If you are uncomfortable you can leave at any time but I ask that you not make any judgments about us unless you are stay for the entire thing. Is that a deal?” she asked me.

“Yes, Ma’am,” I acknowledged what she said. It was more than fair. I knew my Dad would be heavily involved in Joe’s football weekend. He was a volunteer at the event, and he had been a coach on some of Joe’s Pee-Wee league football teams. The weekend was supposed to be very intense and focused on Football, and I definitely didn’t want to serve as a distraction for either of them.

Dad definitely wouldn’t want to come home to deal with any of this. I hoped he wouldn’t be mad when Juliette told him, but it was too late now. He’d find out about this sooner or later, and I’d have to face the music if he was angry.

“Great, let’s get started! These butts won’t spank themselves,” Juliette smiled and showed me the paddle. She explained that there were bumps and holes in the paddle to create different kinds of sensation and intensify the spanking. She said not to worry that this wasn’t the first spanking for any of them and that she was an expert. She told me that safety was always a concern and that there was no abuse or malice when she punished the girls.

Juliette smiled at me reassuringly and then spanked Becky’s ass hard with the paddle.

There was always a loud crack when the wood connected with her bare flesh, and I was shocked that Becky didn’t cry out and scream. She looked humiliated and winced in pain. I noticed a small tear roll down her cheek as she counted each stroke and thanked her mother. Becky’s nose was red as if she was going to cry and she sniffled and looked miserable. She stoically continued to grab her ankles and offer her bare ass to her mother. I could see her dripping wet pussy lips and entire asshole between her legs and yet she didn’t demand I stop staring at her body. It was incredibly arousing even though Becky was clearly humiliated and uncomfortable.

Becky’s upturned nose gave her a regal bearing. I felt like I was watching a Princess getting spanked in the royal bedchamber!

Juliette explained that she did not give an affirmation question after each swat, but she didn’t ask more than one question between each swat. “Their tiny little slut brains can’t process more than one question or observation. You can just say that they have a stinky, soaking wet pussy, but it is so much better to make them admit it in the form of a question,” she said. She demonstrated by asking her daughter a question.

“What are those sopping wet piss flaps between your legs connected to?” she asked as she spanked her daughter with the side of the paddle down the middle of her puffy, swollen slit.

Becky counted and thanked her mother for what she just did through gritted teeth. She clearly wasn’t enjoying the pain, but she endured it. “That is my cunt hole, Ma’am,” she said.

It was an extremely harsh term for a woman’s pussy, and it was incredibly sexy to hear this stuck up teenager say something so dirty out loud about her body.

“Sometimes, I will ask about their body or their role in the house. The girls have a certain terminology that they must use when describing their bodies. I am pretty relaxed about enforcing it, and because you are new, I’ve used terms that you are familiar with. You can call their body parts anything you like. However, the official term for that dripping gash between my daughter’s legs is a cunt hole, and she can be punished for trying to put on fancy airs and call it a vagina or even a pussy,” she explained like she was teaching me the basics of the female anatomy.

She spanked her daughter again the same way and then asked another question. “What are you?” Juliette asked.

“I am a dumb slut, Ma’am,” Becky hissed out air as she counted another stroke. She was only on six, and she had to receive a total of fifty. I could already see little beads of sweat form on her brow as the girl endured the pain and discomfort.

“Really? Because you look like a conceited brat to me,” Juliette swatted her daughter across the ass with the flat of the paddle.

“Yes, Ma’am, Seven! Thank you! I am learning to be a proper dumb slut because it is preferable to my true nature as a conceited, stuck-up brat,” she seethed through the pain as an answer.

“It is important that the girls accept their role in the house. They know they are conceited, manipulative twats. They will most likely never be proper, polite ladies who are honest and considerate. The best that they can hope for right now is a dumb slut,” Juliette explained.

I had so many questions. I think Juliette could tell that, and she slowed her cadence of spanking to allow me to ask one. “Do you really think that about your daughters? About yourself too?” I asked.

“You see, that is too many questions for one swat,” Juliette laughed. She continued to spank her daughter and gave me an answer between each swat.

“Yes, I know my daughters. They are a reflection of me and a distilled version of my natural tendencies. They say there is both nurture and nature in how we develop as people. My girls were raised by a cunt, and it is in their DNA. If they become good girls later in life, that is great, but right now, I’d settle for dumb sluts,” she smiled as Becky counted the stroke. Becky sounded relieved not to be asked another question when she counted and thanked her mother for the spanking she was receiving.

“I am a slave to your father. I am his possession and pet. I chose to volunteer for that position just like my girls chose to volunteer for this training too. I consensually agreed to give him the power to make decisions for me. If I can’t make decisions for myself, then I can’t make them for my daughters,” she said as she smacked Becky’s ass.

“You decided how many swats the girls are supposed to receive and how to punish them?” I pointed out that she DID get to make decisions about the girls.

“Yes, every Master I’ve had in the past had different expectations of my daughters and me. There were some who let them run wild and others who were much harsher than your father. I am Goldilocks, though, and I wanted a master who was JUST right for us. Your father delegated these little decisions to me when he isn’t here. He sets limits and boundaries for all three of us. I can take a lot more punishment than Becky, so it doesn’t make sense to make us all serve the same way. If he doesn’t approve of my decisions, then he will take that authority away from me and even punish me,” she explained.

My mind grappled to understand what she just told me. I had no reason to doubt any of it was true, but it seemed so unbelievable. She said the girls volunteered for this? It didn’t look like Becky was enjoying it; that was for sure. I enjoyed watching Becky grit her teeth and squirm when the hard wooden paddle across her ass. I wasn’t sure that I could do the same thing to Stacy when it was my turn, but I was eager to try! Her long blonde hair was dragging the carpet, and her tits bounced every time her ass took another hit.

“You said the girls volunteered for this. Can you guys quit anytime you like?” I asked.

“No, can you quit being your father’s son anytime you like?” Juliette laughed at how naïve my question must have sounded. I wanted to understand just how consensual this arrangement really was.

“Your father put a ring on me, and I take that very seriously. I won’t quit serving him unless he quits leading me. Everything I have is his now, including this pitiful farm, and that includes my girls as well. He is going to be their father and by extension, their Master,” she said as she spanked her daughter.

I didn’t understand the term Master, and I asked her to explain that.

“I’ve served many Masters and Mistresses over the years. Most are teachers and leaders, and your father will be the head of the household. In times when I was single, I was my daughter’s mistress, but that role has diminished quite a bit for me now. I’ve even done it professionally before, but I don’t make always make such good choices, and I don’t want to steer the ship. There is a freedom in surrendering your authority that I don’t expect you to understand unless you have done it,” Juliette explained.

I didn’t understand it at all. I rephrased my question about her daughters being able to quit if they volunteered to do this.

“Yeah, what about that, Ma’am? Can I quit now? Fourteen! Thank you, Ma’am!” Becky counted.

Her mother told her to be quiet unless someone pulled her chain or spoke to her and spanked her again.

“My daughters had a choice to be good girls and behave themselves. They cannot do that anymore than I can without constant, strict discipline. A few years ago, one of my Masters introduced them to the fundamentals of domestic discipline. This was his farm, and he put them to work doing chores in very tedious and the least efficient ways. They learned to value hard work and the patience required to do things the hard way. They learned to give up their privacy and some of the other privileges they took for granted so that they could appreciate them when they earned them back. They learned the fundamentals of obedience and the joys of serving others without expecting anything in return,” she explained while giving Becky a few swats.

“They learned to surrender their prideful nature and humble themselves as dumb sluts instead of conceited sluts,” Juliette summarized. All the while, she didn’t answer my question if they could quit any time they felt like it. I felt like she was avoiding it, but she said all that so that I would understand why she told me they could not.

“You notice that Becky thanks me every time I spank her? That is not something she is just supposed to groan like it is a chore. She is supposed to say it crisply and sweetly like she is grateful that I took the time to apply a lesson to her stinky shit-hole to make her a better person. It isn’t always easy to be grateful for that and really mean it,” she said as she spanked Becky. Becky tried to over-sell a very disingenuous grateful thank you like she was orgasming, but her mother dismissed it as a playful little joke.

“You are so skinny you probably have never been on a diet, so this example may not mean anything. Every year people make New Year’s resolutions to get off the couch and do more to get better. They usually fall off the wagon before the end of January and quit. They don’t have the self-determination to keep up with their commitments. At the start, the girls had to commit to a week and then a month learning to submit as dumb sluts. They weren’t fully trained as slaves – they were just trained in the fundamental principles of domestic discipline around the house. Anytime things got difficult, or they woke up, and it was raining, and they didn’t feel like going out in the rain and doing their chores, they wanted to quit. If I let them, then I would fail them. We made a pact that I would not let them quit, and they won’t let me quit when things get tough. Becky and Stacy will serve until they graduate high school, and then it will be up to them if they want to stay or find their own path. I’ve done the best I can to spare the world of two conceited cunts, but the rest will be up to them. There is no quitting for me. I’ll serve your father for the rest of my life if he lets me,” She promised.

It was strangely touching and yet, at the same time, hard to believe she could be so committed to her decision. She assured me that there were many times all of them just wanted to stay in bed and forget about their commitments. The three of them kept each other honest and motivated to continue their training rain or shine.

“We get to give mom an evaluation if she ever wants to take a day off,” Stacy smirked.

“Has it ever happened, cunt-breath?” Juliette reached over and smacked her younger daughter’s ass with the paddle.

“No, Ma’am, was that one?” she counted.

“Nope, you’ll get yours from Danny tonight!” she promised her daughter that was just a warm-up swing. She asked me, “Unless you think we are crazy bitches and want to run out of the room? It wouldn’t be the first time I brought home a guy, and he thought me and my daughters were nuts,” she said.

“Oh no, I love it,” I said. I didn’t mean to sound so excited, but it had slipped out. The girls giggled.

“What do you love about it?” Juliette asked me quite seriously while spanking her daughter. She told me it was important to keep a rhythm when applying punishments. She was deliberately taking her time, but she was enjoying my questions and told me they were refreshing.

I didn’t want to say that I didn’t know, but I hadn’t thought about my excited response to be able to articulate the reasons why I loved it. I was surrounded by naked asses, and I wasn’t in trouble, so that was probably more than enough reason. I chose my words carefully and waited until after Becky counted another swat before I answered.

“I see that you love each other and count on one another to do your part to keep each other in line. I don’t think this would work for every family, but you have found something that connects you together and makes you better. I have never thought about the porn on my phone other than to think it was done for sexual gratification. You’ve made me aware that there was so much more to all of this,” I said.

“You have your Father’s gift for words,” Juliette looked impressed with my response. I FELT impressed with my response. I meant what I said, and I was happy that I didn’t stutter or put my foot in my mouth and say something stupid like I loved how Becky’s tits jiggled the same way her ass did every time her mother spanked her. Each cheek moved in time with the corresponding boob hanging over her face.

“I won’t kid you. There is sexual gratification involved. We are NOT supposed to be getting off on this treatment but feel Becky’s cunt-hole,” she offered Becky’s pussy to me to prove that she was getting off on some of it.

“Mom!” Becky protested, but she didn’t move from her punishment position with her legs spread wide and her hands grabbing her ankles. Her mother ignored her protests, and Becky pouted but didn’t tell me not to touch her.

I felt her pussy, and it was soaked with a thick clear juice it was obviously not urine either.

“Go ahead and mash down on her clit hood,” she said.

I didn’t really know what a clit was. There were so many different shapes and sizes to women’s pussies that I had never bothered to learn.

“This is Becky’s clit hood,” Juliette smiled at me when she realized I didn’t know. She lifted up a triangular flap of skin, and in the center was what looked like a tiny penis to me. She told me that was the clit and let me mash it with my thumb.

Becky groaned with pleasure and humiliation in equal parts.

“My girls would have led you around with their cunts. Tonight they thought you were a weak little weirdo. If they thought you could do something for them, they would have promised to let you touch them or see their pussies to get it from you. It is important they be led by their cunts instead. You push that button on Becky, and her eyes will light up, her asshole will pucker, and it is almost like a bitch button you can press to reset her and make her a lot more friendly and well-behaved,” she said.

Becky didn’t deny it. “If your thumb is sticky, just jam it in her mouth. She’ll clean it,” she assured me.

I didn’t want to go that far, even though I had already touched her pussy. I was secretly afraid Becky might bite my thumb!

“If they won’t even taste their own juices, they can’t expect anyone else to taste them,” she assured me that her daughter wouldn’t mind. “They love the taste of their own apple pie. Trust me, they are used to the taste of their own pussies,” Juliette assured me.

I had tasted my own cum once out of curiosity. It was salty and gross. I thought it might be disgusting and quite humiliating for them, but Becky looked more than willing to let me put my thumb in her mouth.

Becky sucked my thumb clean like it was a cock, and I thought I’d cum in my shorts if she continued. I had to pull my thumb out. My ears were red; I was so embarrassed, but Juliette didn’t tease me about the big smile on my face.

“Stacy is wired a little differently than her sister. Becky has an outie and Stacy’s button is a little harder to reach. She has a tight little cunt. You have to press her button on the inside,” she said. Juliette told me a metaphor about lighting a pilot light, and how some furnaces are designed, so you have to crawl up in the attic and reach under them, but I didn’t understand it. I had never lit a pilot light.

Stacy knew better than to protest, but it was obvious that she didn’t want me to touch her. She gave me an icy stare, but she didn’t stand up. Her mother fished two fingers into her daughter’s pussy, and then Stacy’s eyes lit up, and she smiled broadly.

Juliette removed her fingers and demonstrated a “come hither” motion to me and told me that I would find her button if I slid two fingers in gently and moved my fingers the same way. Stacy looked mortified, but she opened her mouth and cleaned her mother’s fingers with her mouth when she offered them to her.

I plunged my fingers into her nervously. Stacy jerked a little. Juliette told me not to be as nervous but didn’t scold me. I did as she told and turned my hand so that I was reaching inside Stacy the same way her mother had just done. I didn’t think I found the spot until Stacy’s pussy lips tightened around my fingers and held me in place.

“See how Stacy’s asshole puckers around her butt plug? She does that when she is lying too. You can always tell she is either having an orgasm or telling a whopper of a lie,” she laughed

. “Then again, maybe she is getting turned on when she is getting away with a lie!” Becky added. Stacy looked mortified, but she didn’t try to wriggle off my fingers.

Stacy humped my hand so I wouldn’t remove it once it was inside of her. Once I removed my fingers from her warm cunt, and she delicately licked them clean and looked up at me with this very vulnerable expression. I felt a little pity for her because I was going to be her step-brother and now we’ll always have this between us. I was not sure if later she’d hold it against me.

“Why don’t you show him how your big honking clit works, Mom?” Stacy sneered, and Becky laughed too.

“You two sluts are getting very uppity,” Juliette warned her daughters not to press their luck by joking too much. I couldn’t look right at Juliette after it was suggested that she show me how her pussy worked.