Chapter 5

“I think you really impressed the girls, Sir,” Juliette told me as she walked me back to Stacy’s room. She told me she was going to tie them up in Joe’s room for the night now that they had something to reflect upon. She made it clear that Becky’s old room now belonged to Joe and Stacy’s room now belonged to me. The girls were just using Joe’s room until he got back as far as she was concerned.

“Really?” I asked her as I turned to the door.

“You impressed ME,” Juliette shrugged that it stood to reason I impressed her daughters.

“I shouldn’t have slapped Stacy’s face,” I said as I looked at my shoes.

“You did what you did, and you can’t take it back. Don’t have any regrets now, Sir. They can turn on the waterworks anytime it suits them. If you let them see you will stop because they will cry, then they will cry all the time. I slap their fat little faces all the time. She is a big girl. I think she wasn’t pretending to feel some emotion. It wasn’t the slap that made her cry. You know that, right?” Juliette asked me.

I didn’t know why she was crying, but I suspected there was something more going on. I didn’t want to ruin the moment by asking her to explain it to me. I assumed that Stacy had some sort of breakthrough realization or epiphany like I had, but I didn’t know for sure what it was.

Juliette sensed I was confused, and she put her hand on my shoulder to reassure me. “Girls are going to confuse you for the rest of your life, Sir. My daughter cried when the boy band on your shirt came to town even though I bought her tickets. My daughter cried when Ol’ Yeller died even though she had seen the Disney Film a thousand times. She cries when she gets a boo-boo, and yet you saw her face light up when you spanked her properly. Don’t lose any sleep over it, you did very well.” she smiled warmly at me.

I nodded and accepted her explanation. I felt less guilty about making her cry, but I still wondered why it ended that way.

“Your affirmation was different,” she observed and changed the subject. Juliette didn’t explain how it was different. I think I knew I had gone off the script of what was expected during spankings, and yet somehow, it had all felt right to me. All the words had flown naturally once I stopped second-guessing myself and got into the moment.

“I don’t think she expected any of that. I certainly didn’t. I thought you’d ask her to say shit-hole, and cunt-hole and ask her things like why she smells like a fish when she is wet. You really are a very unusual young man,” she said before adding that I was my father’s son.

“Thanks,” I said that Stacy was definitely her mother’s daughter.

“I am not sure if that’s a good thing or not, Sir” Juliette kissed me on the forehead and looked me in the eyes.

“I like you being here. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do or observe anything that makes you uncomfortable,” she assured me. I thanked her and admitted that I was thrilled to participate tonight.

“I know, Sir,” Juliette looked knowingly at the bulge in my short-shorts with an approving nod. “How big is that? Six inches? Seven?” she asked if I had ever measured my dick and even told me where to start the measurement from to get an accurate number.

“Are you angling to add me to your virgin scoreboard?” I smiled at her playfully. I would never have dared to say anything like that to her until tonight. My hair was sweaty, and I was running on pure adrenalin earlier, but now I was relaxed and felt confident.

“Not tonight, Sir,” Juliette said that it wouldn’t be fair to give the girls a sporting chance to bed me. She winked playfully. I knew she was teasing me, but she looked like she was more than willing to take my virginity. “Your father would skin me and hang my hide out to dry over the barn if I fucked you tonight. I am already going to be in a metric ton of shit when he gets home. I wasn’t supposed to tell you about any of this. I shouldn’t have set the girls up to tease you either, and I am going to pay for that,” she said. She looked forlorn about the prospect of being punished even though she was the one who agreed to all of this in the first place.

I was flattered that she said she might fuck me on a different night with my father’s permission – whether she meant it or not. Her words and body language made me feel lucky and charming. I knew it was because I was a virgin, but Juliette had a manner when she talked real low and leaned in close of making a guy feel very manly. Her perfume was intoxicating, and her eyes sparkled mischievously. She would have made a great actress to play a Succubus or Maleficent in the movies.

She wished me a good night and said she wished she could help me take care of myself. “You don’t want blue balls,” she hinted I should masturbate before falling asleep. Then she started to walk away. She wiggled her butt as she glided gracefully down the hallway in her short skirt.

“I have a favor to ask you,” she stopped and turned around in the hallway.

“Don’t ever wear short-shorts and a boy-band shirt around the house again?” I chuckled playfully. The outfit was the pits, but my actual clothes were still outside on the line and soaking wet. I would have to wear this ridiculous outfit Stacy and Becky chose for me until they dried.

“Hah, that too, yeah, never wear those clothes. I am sorry about that. I really am, Sir,” Juliette offered me a sideways smirk for my joke. “Your father will punish me. If not for what I do this weekend, then for something else I fuck up. I would like you to give me an affirmation sometime. Would you do that for me? I never had one quite like the one you gave, Stacy,” she offered.

“I will think about it,” I answered her and abruptly went into the room and closed my door. I danced around and waved my fists in the air with joy. Juliette just offered to let me spank her anywhere and ask her humiliating questions, and I didn’t immediately tell her yes! I played it super aloof and cool. I made her think that I would think about it. Naturally, I would spank the shit out of her if that is what she wanted. I hummed a victory song and danced a little jig in my room.

“Your door isn’t closed all the way, Sir,” Juliette reminded me as she stood in the doorway and watched my door swing slowly open.

“Ah, Thank you, cunt,” I collected myself and pretended I hadn’t just danced like a moron in front of her. Then I closed the door and told her to get some sleep because tomorrow was another day and the show must go on.

I kicked myself for a long time for that foolish display. I think she was flattered, though, and what mattered more was that she didn’t change her mind about the offer – at least she didn’t tell me she had.

I reflected on the night for a long time. Everything from the moment we arrived to slapping Stacy’s face. Her face was hardly fat. She could have been a teen model if she was taller. Stacy looked more like the actress Chloe Moretz or the one that played Selena Kyle in the TV show Gotham. I was a huge fan of Batman, and I loved that show when it was on the air. I felt like young Bruce Wayne tonight.

I had all of the power, and I was the center of their attention despite being this young, geeky kid.

I kept replaying the face slap in my mind. I am not a mean person, and I’ve never slapped anyone in the face. I’ve never spanked tits or asses before either, and until yesterday I hadn’t seen a naked woman in person before. I kept remembering Stacy’s head jerking and sliding to the left when she recoiled in shock. It was followed by real tears and her nose bubbled with snot. I didn’t mean to make her cry.

I had no idea when I began the affirmation where I was going to go with it. At some point, I became filled with good intentions to make Stacy accept that she was worthwhile and a valued person. It was obviously not how these affirmation sessions were supposed to go, and yet her mother told me I made a fantastic impression.

There was also a doubting part of my brain that reminded me Juliette had told me she was very manipulative. I wondered if her compliments could have been designed to make me feel like I did well, even if I hadn’t. If she had a hidden agenda, I didn’t care. I told myself to just accept her kind words. I would never convince Stacy to believe she was worthwhile if I didn’t think I was.

The other observation that I was just now getting my head around was that I had experienced sexual gratification from the experience of inflicting pain on someone else. I had an adrenalin rush, and I thought that was just because I was touching pretty girl’s butts. It was much more than though. Stacy had surrendered her modesty and body to me to inflict that pain. I didn’t feel entitled to that gift from such a pretty girl. More importantly, she had allowed me to ask any question I liked, and she was compelled to provide me a complete answer.

Stacy was no doormat, and she always had a choice to participate or not in that exercise. If she hadn’t made fun of me the first time I swung the paddle, I may not have noticed that she reluctantly but willingly allowed me to take control of her once I demonstrated that I could take charge of her. I wrestled with the dynamic between us that she allowed me to control her, but only after I proved myself worthy.

I wanted to ask my Father if any of what I was thinking made sense. I thought about texting him, but Juliette was right. It was late, and this could wait for the next day. I had a long wank into a tissue and then passed out with a huge smile on my face.

The next morning I awoke to discover a set of my clothes on the bed. My jeans and shirt wereclean, dry and folded crisply for me. My garbage was empty, and it looked like someone had tidied up a bit in the room as well. In one of the dressers that had belonged to Stacy, I found the rest of my clothes had been folded and put away.

It was only 7am, and yet someone had already done this for me. I was used to doing my own laundry, and I was pleasantly surprised.

“Good Morning, Sleepy Head!” Juliette was flitting around the living room cleaning. She was dressed in a very immodest top that showed off her cleavage. Her nipples poked through the white material. She wore a micro-mini skirt that covered very little of her bottom. I doubted Juliette owned any skirt with a hem lower than mid-thigh.

She told me that Breakfast was already prepared, and they were just waiting for me before they started.

Her daughters were standing next to the kitchen table in the nude. Becky still wore the chastity belt, but it did little to cover her ass crack. Her blonde hair was tied with bows into pigtails. The girls were holding each other tightly in an embrace like they were slow dancing. Their tongues were touching as they held the pose. The girls were standing close. Their bodies were nipple to nipple, and their legs were spread apart but not as wide as the attention position. They were grabbing each other’s butt cheeks and pulling them apart widely.

“That is the kiss position. It teaches the girl’s teamwork. You’ll notice they pull each other’s asses apart much wider than they would their own. Any time they are on punishment together, if they have nothing to do around the house, just give them the order to adopt the Kiss position, and they will snap to it. Just don’t let them close their mouths. They’ll stop playing tonsil hockey if you let them close their mouths,” Juliette explained it to me like it was not a big deal.

“They are actual sisters, though?” I observed in shock. I was surprised that the sisters were French kissing in the kitchen. They were slutty and open to a lot of kinky things, but this was something you only see on TV shows like Jerry Springer.

I knew they all stripped in front of each other. Joe and I had seen each other naked a few times, and it wasn’t that big of a deal. I couldn’t imagine kissing my older brother even in private. It seemed like incest!

“Yes, they are. What is your point, Sir?” Juliette asked as she polished the table.

“Isn’t that like wrong or something?” I said.

“Does it look wrong, sir?” Juliette asked me politely. Stacy and Becky were smiling slightly as they tongue wrestled with each other. They weren’t kissing each other romantically or even passionately. There was a blunt-force to how Becky was jamming her tongue into Stacy’s mouth, and the two of them were jousting. Spit was dribbling down their chins.

It didn’t look wrong. It looked hot, and the fact that they were sisters made it so taboo. I harrumphed and adjusted my jeans to accommodate my growing boner.

Juliette leaned into the center of her daughters and licked both of their tongues. Juliette had a huge tongue that reminded me of a camel when it was fully extended. “The girls have to learn to please others, and that includes one another. It is good training for them,” she explained and invited me to sit at the head of the table where my Father sat the night before.

“Is this training or punishment?” I asked. Juliette leaned over me and put her boobs in my face as she offered me pancakes, bacon, biscuits, and gravy.

“That is a fantastic question, and I’d love to answer it, Sir,” Juliette said. “The problem is that I texted your Father to ask what I could and could not demonstrate today, and I haven’t heard back. I assume he is busy with your brother’s football camp. Have you heard from either of them this morning?” she asked.

It would be odd for Joe or my father to text me. They seldom did, and I said that I hadn’t heard from them. Juliette asked politely if I would text them, so I did, but I received no response.

“Then I am on my own until I hear otherwise. The girls must be punished this weekend, and they have chores to do. I would normally be naked while I do chores, but I don’t know how your father feels about you learning about my rules. I can tell you that normally naked girls don’t get to sit on the furniture, so I am grateful for that,” she sat down at my side and made herself a plate of food.

Juliette explained that dripping cunts and sweaty butts would ruin her furniture, and it helps reinforce the girl’s place to serve as footstools instead. I wouldn’t have believed these two pretty girls lived this way unless I had seen them doing this. My father was right for wanting to wait to show all of this to me. My brain was struggling to imagine people who wanted to live this way and whether or not they could do it 24/7. I wondered what the pizza delivery guy or their relatives might think when they visited. It sounded so over the top that unless I saw it with my own two eyes, I would have thought they were pulling my leg.

“If you want me to do anything for you or answer a question, just ask, and I will take it on a case base basis. There are some things you need to know when you live here. I just don’t know how much your father wanted you to know, so I am going to try to limit it to what you have to know to deal with Becky and Stacy’s punishment today. Is that okay, Sir?” she asked. There was an implicit sexiness in Juliette’s offer to do anything I needed that suggested that included fucking me if I dared to ask. She didn’t come out and say it, though. It may have just been how Juliette naturally came across when she was being nice to someone.

I nodded and ate my bacon. It was delicious and crisp. Juliette had given me a very generous portion – much more than I would have taken for myself.

“I’d like the girls to answer your questions because it reinforces what they are learning,” she told Becky to explain to us what the difference was between punishment and training.

Becky stopped battering her sister’s tongue long enough to explain. “Criminals get punished for doing things wrong. The punishment has to fit the crime, and it is usually painful, humiliating, and tedious. The punishment should make the criminal reflect and regret their actions, so they don’t feel compelled to do it again. Athletes practice to run marathons and push themselves and often push through the pain to achieve their goals. They get up and do it, again and again, every day to become better than they were the day before,” she said.

I didn’t understand, but the pancakes were buttery and soft. I savored the flavor as I looked up at the pretty, conceited girl and watched her tits jiggle as she chose her words carefully.

“We get punished when we fuck up. We also train daily to become better. Sometimes the training looks a lot like the punishments. As an example, Kissing my sister and smelling her Cheet-o breath may SEEM like a punishment, but it is actually teaching me to be a more generous lover,” she giggled. Stacy squeezed her butt cheeks hard.

I didn’t fully understand what she was saying. If there were activities that they had to do, then I assumed some of them were punishments, and some of them were a training. “The punishments teach you a lesson as a reaction to something you did. The training reinforces lessons you are supposed to be learning even when you don’t fuck up?” I asked.

“Something like that, Sir” Becky touched noses playfully with her sister, and then they started to kiss again by letting their tongues flop out of their mouths.

“Where would they be by default if only one of them is on punishment?” I asked Juliette politely as I ate. I tried to ignore the fact that there were two naked girls right next to me and pretend this was a perfectly typical Breakfast for me. It was typical for them and I didn’t want to stare at their nudity.

I think Becky and Stacy wanted me to freak out and give them attention. They looked disappointed when I continued to address my questions to their mother.

“Your father would most likely put them in the pretzel position on that pedestal over there,” Juliette pointed to a small circular stage in the living room. It was barely big enough for someone to step on, and it had a black, glossy finish on it.

“Dad put you guys on a pedestal? That is ironic,” I chuckled as I ate my food.

“That pedestal was placed here by a different Master. He used to like to watch me dance on it for his friends,” Juliette said.

“Does dad ever make you dance?” I asked. I assumed she was talking about seductive Belly Dancing.

“No, but watch Stacy dance. It’s hilarious,” Juliette told the girls to turn on some music and demonstrate for me. I expected a slow jazzy stripper song when Becky turned on the stereo.

I didn’t expect Gucci Mane by Go Head to be played in this quaint little farmhouse. Stacy didn’t make eye contact with me. She knew her mother and sister were going to laugh when she started dancing.

She turned around and held her ass cheeks apart. I could see the red rim of the butt plug between her butt cheeks, and once the beat kicked in, she began to twerk like a white girl. Her butt cheeks flapped rapidly like a butterfly trying in vain to break the Earth’s orbit by flapping it’s gossamer wings as fast as it could.

Go head, baby girl go head
Go head, go head
Go head, go head
Go head, go head
Go head
Shawty gotta ass on ha (on ha)
I’ma put my hands on ha (on ha)
I’ma spend a couple grand on ha (on ha)
I’ma pop a rubber band on ha (on ha)

Becky and Juliette laughed hard and Stacy looked more embarrassed about her performance and their laughter than she had anything else that she had done so far.

“Get up there and show him how you dance, Becky” Juliette told her older daughter to demonstrate and finish the song.

Becky looked confident as she strode to the little stage and then popped her back and arched it in time to the music. She jiggled her ass cheeks and even moved one big ass cheek and then the other in time to the rest of the music.

I’m tryna figure which chick I’ma see today (see today).
Picked up a young girl, looked like lisa ray (lisa ray).
When I seen ha in the club said I gots to get ha (gots to get ha),
Cause she might be trina sista (trina sista).
Gotta girl look just like lauren hill (lauren hill),
Took ha to the crib cause she kno’ what it is (she know what it is).
I’ma bump ha but I can’t stand ha daddy do’ (daddy do’)

Becky turned to face me and twerked her titties by forcing them to spin wildly and then jumped off the small stage so that she could get her legs apart wider while twerking. She had a wild expression on her face like she was excited. I was genuinely intimidated by her furious dancing. Her mother told her that was enough of a demonstration.

She asked me if I would prefer to see the girls in the Pretzel position or return to the kissing position while I finished my breakfast. I was going to say that my preference didn’t matter since my Dad called the shots, but I didn’t want to be accused of giving her a non-answer. I said I liked the kiss position.

“They don’t,” Juliette smirked and told the girls to turn off the music and get back in position. Becky was still breathing heavily when she snapped into position, holding her sister tightly to her bosom. They stood nipple to nipple, touching tongues and holding each other’s assholes apart like it was their life’s mission to be human mannequins.

“You guys get up very early around here,” I tried to play it off like I wasn’t completely fascinated with their sexual pose.

“Yeah, it turns out even lazy cunts like my daughters want to get out of bed when they are tied up tightly so they can’t play with themselves, Sir,” Juliette chuckled playfully. “You missed our morning shaving, shower, and enema routine. I am sure you’ll eventually see us perform it if you get up early enough,” she said as she took a bite of her oatmeal and savored it. She reminded me that she was unsure what my father would have wanted her to do this weekend.

“You did all that too?” I asked if Juliette received an enema and shaved herself with her daughters. I knew what an enema was, but I had never seen one applied in real life.

“I have to keep my cunt and ass bald and my asshole clean as a whistle, Sir,” Juliette admitted.

“Do you also sleep tied up?” I asked.

“It is very hard for me to fall asleep without the feeling of scratchy rope against my skin, Sir” Juliette sighed before explaining that if she tied herself up, then there would have been no one to untie her.

“I could have untied you,” I said.

“I don’t know if you could untie the knots I tie, Sir,” Juliette warned me. “Your father didn’t leave instructions on how we were supposed to perform our morning rituals with you here. I think he said that he’d eat his hat if you woke up before 10 am on your own,” she chuckled.

He was right. I was normally a late sleeper. The only reason I got up when I did was that I was so excited to see what other sexy shenanigans the girls were getting into.

I asked what they normally did throughout the week. Juliette reminded me my father would be back and let THEM know what the new rules would be around the house. “I am pretty lax on school days when your father is not here. I barely inspect the girls in the morning because I can’t always get my lazy ass out of bed. If you guys are living here, that is probably going to change. I know as much as you do about your father’s plans. I assume we’ll know on Sunday night, Sir” Juliette seemed comfortable waiting to know her rules whenever my father decided to tell her.

“Are you finished with your plate? You didn’t eat very much, Sir. Did you not enjoy the food?” Juliette asked me sweetly. I said that it was more food than I was used to, and the food was delicious. I thanked her.

“I have to ask you a little favor, Sir,” Juliette said as she stood up and cleared the table of our plates. I asked her what it was, and she told me never to express gratitude to her. “Please don’t call me Ma’am and show me respect. It feeds my ego when you do it and puts us on the wrong footing. Please don’t thank any of us for meeting your expectations. It makes us expect gratitude for our service. We serve because that is our place, and we need no special thanks,” she said as she scraped our food into a bowl.

“I am sorry,” I apologized and said that I was taught to be polite.

“If you could try to be less polite, that would be appreciated. Please don’t apologize to any of us either unless you genuinely screwed up. It is okay to admit your mistakes but never worry about hurting our feelings. As long as you are honest with us, then you don’t owe us any apology,” she said.

I found it difficult to accept those conditions. My father had drilled into me a desire to keep my word when I gave it and a desire to be polite to everyone.

“Master probably told you to treat others as you want to be treated, Sir?” she asked me knowingly as she scraped the rest of the leftovers into a second bowl. I nodded; that was exactly what he taught me.

Juliette bent over at the waist. I could see her ass cheeks fully as she bent over at the waist. She placed the table scraps on the floor at my feet by my chair.

“You cunts may place your faces in your bowls now,” Juliette ordered her daughters to stop kissing and get down on the floor on their hands and knees. Becky and Stacy obediently leaned forward into the bowls and pushed their noses into a muck of cold oatmeal, biscuit crumbles, gravy, bacon, and uneaten pancake bits. They rested forward on their shoulders so that their heads were all the way in the shallow bowls and reached behind themselves and pulled their ass cheeks apart.

“People who own dogs love them very much. They wouldn’t normally eat off the floor with their dog, though, would they?” Juliette asked as she stood up. She kicked Becky playfully in the butt and pushed her face forward slightly into the muck so that her nose was pressed into it like Stacy.

I agreed that it was true.

“I rarely get to sit at my own table and eat hot food. It was a rare pleasure, and I feel guilty about it. I should be on the floor eating with my daughters, but out of respect for your father, I have sat at the table and suspended my training. I am still going to have to work later today, and I hope he tells me what to do before then. In the meantime, If you would kindly treat my daughters like the dogs they are, then they won’t be such snapping cunts to you later in the day when I am at work. Is that fair?” She asked.

I smiled and said I’d try to accommodate them. It was strangely difficult for me to accept being impolite to them despite their request.

“The girls have to hold this position for however long we feel is necessary. It helps get their morning started knowing they are on our time table and not their own. That being said, there are a lot of chores that need to be done, and we are already behind,” she said. She told me it was my prerogative to sleep in late, and now it was up to them to find ways to catch up. “You have three minutes to clean your bowl. Last girl to finish gets to wear two condoms full of cum this afternoon,” she said.

The girls hastily started eating the cold food we had just discarded. “They should be thankful that you didn’t eat all of your food, but not one of them said a word,” Juliette scoffed at the girls.

“Thank you, Sir, for this bacon,” Stacy looked up and snorted. A tiny air bubble of oats popped on her pretty upturned nose when she spoke, and then she dug her head back into her bowl.

“Only have three minutes! Will thank you properly later, Sir!” Becky offered with a gasp as she used her big tongue to slurp up the food. Becky burped a little as she re-submerged her face into the food.

Juliette opened her purse and removed two used condoms. She bent over at the waist and squirted a little of the cum inside one of them into each bowl. Her big beautiful ass was right in my face, and I could see the glint of the gleaming bejeweled butt plug between her ass cheeks. I almost didn’t notice she was feeding her daughter’s cum from an old condom.

“Your father’s rule is that I bring my work home with me,” Juliette giggled as she stood up and explained why she just did that. “Every night, I collect any cum that I am not forced to swallow into these condoms. He compares how much I made to how many condoms I have. That way, I am not tempted to say I had a bad night even though the condoms are full. I am not supposed to come home unless I have at least two condoms full of cum,” she explained and then sipped from the Condom like it was a tube of Gogurt that she was going to enjoy.

“I am used to the taste of cum in my food, and so are the girls. It doesn’t make sense for a slut to be grossed out by semen,” she explained when she saw the look of shock on my face. This was an unexpected twist even for a family that was so open about sexuality. “Today, one of them is going to wear the contents of about a dozen customers cum on her face while she does her chores and let the glaze dry. Which one do you think it will be?” she asked me.

Stacy was gobbling her food down quickly. She had a slight frame, but she was choking it down. Her sister was bustier and taller and just as aggressive as wolfing her food down. It was still difficult for both of them because they couldn’t tip the bowl with their hands, and they had to force their face and tongue down into the bits that were hard to pick up with their teeth.