Chapter 16

THE CONTINUING EDUCATION OF BARBARA “BARBIE” NICOLE CHIPMAN

Written by Joe Chipman

My sister ran with a mouth full of cum next to me most for about ten minutes before I gave her permission to open her mouth and let it drip down her chin.

“Are you getting used to the taste of cum, slut?” I asked her.

“No Master,” she explained that the Mexican guy she just blew tasted completely different than me.

“It’s probably all the beans he eats,” I joked. She actually grinned and smiled at me. My sister looked so good when she was glazed with cum – she reminded me of a jelly donut ready to be eaten.

“I can’t believe you made me offer to blow a complete stranger, Sir!” she seemed overjoyed, I’d insisted.

“Yeah, and it only took you two times to get someone to agree. Imagine how many women you would have had to ask to let you go down on them before one said yes?”

She grimaced at the thought of trying that in the future.

“I’ve never gone down on a girl either, Sir. I’ve never even thought about it,” my sister admitted.

“Well, you will! If not Becky, I am sure there will be plenty of wet cunts in your future. Don’t wipe that cum off your chin. I want you to reflect upon what you are becoming and think about the fact you don’t get to refuse me when I tell you to suck a dick. You suck it gladly. We’ll work on your technique later too! I want you to learn to make it last or make it quick!”

My sister looked naively surprised when I suggested that. I don’t think she processed how much practice she was going to need to become an expert cock sucker.

“How many holes do you have, Barbie?” I asked her like I was her Drill Sargent, and I was calling out a marching cadence in the Military.

“Three Master!” Barbie answered loud and proud. We were on the sidewalk, and there wasn’t anyone close by. There were a lot of cars, and by now, a few of them were slowing down to catch a glimpse of her ass. We were running along US 1, which is the main highway near the beach in Sebastian. I know crack whores walk along this road at night, but it was still Dusk, and most of them wouldn’t be jogging with a guy. Some guys just wanted to slow down to catch a glimpse of a hot teenage girl in a pair of short-shorts, and that made me feel flattered – because she was MY hot teenage girl they were lusting over.

There was one car driven by a woman that I could swear was checking me out. I am not Brad Pitt or anything, but I have a decent body. She was driving one of those little red sporty MG convertible coupes. She had long blonde hair and looked a little like Morgan Fairchild – old money, big tits, a MILF type.

She lowered her sunglasses and gave me the eye for just a split second before the light changed.

The older woman looked thirsty, like she wanted to drink me down. I wondered if that was how my sister felt when she was being ogled by guys.

I didn’t need my confidence to be any higher than it already was. When my sister asked me to take charge of her, it made me feel invincible – like I could do anything. I called that slut Becky and told her she was going to the dance with me because I was so full of myself earlier. She basically shot me down and gave me a reality check. I suppose I deserve that – I should have started by ASKING her.

I just thought she was a submissive, and submissive girls get off on being told what to do. I suppose I really misjudged that landing before I made the jump.

Then again, I had also talked my parents into letting me boss around my little sister at the house, and that was quite a victory. I told myself that Becky’s opinion of me really wasn’t that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things – there would be other girls.

“You probably could have owned me without ever asking my permission, Master,” my sister observed as we jogged. I was silent for a little while and finally asked her to explain what she meant. “The way you talked mom and dad into letting you be the boss of me around the house. I doubt I could have talked my way out of that even if I wanted to!” my sister implied she’d be running in front of me right now like she was, simply because she had to.

“No, for two reasons,” I disagreed. “The first is you wouldn’t have fucked up monumentally unless you REALLY wanted to serve me. Second, I would never have manipulated you into doing this against your will. Now Kevin? He might have,” I joked. I loved seeing my sister’s dimples when she laughed at my jokes.

Barbie really surprised me by keeping pace with me all the way to the Goodwill down by Roseland at the Riverwalk plaza. I didn’t run her as hard as I could, but I also didn’t let up on her. I wanted to drive home to her that I set the pace, and she had to keep up and shut up now.

It isn’t much of a plaza. It is just a Burger King, McDonald’s, Publix Grocery Store, and a Goodwill store in a strip mall. It is also the central hub of culture, shopping, and society for the locals in this rinky-dink tourist town in Florida.

It was incredibly busy for a small town strip mall. The parking lot was near capacity, and my leggy sister was running in impossibly small shorts that were sheer enough; you could almost see the meat of her clit through the material. Her little tits were jiggling braless as she tried to keep up with me.

I can’t even begin to tell you how happy it made me to have my sister willing to be a puppet on a string for me. In my wildest fantasies, I would never imagine a woman giving up her dignity, pride, sexual decisions, even her money to someone else willingly. There would have had to be some angle where she thought she was going to get something out of it, or she was just stupid. My sister wasn’t stupid. Nobody blackmailed her, and she definitely couldn’t get anything out of me because I don’t have anything worth taking.

I’ve been quietly looking out for Barbie since my parents first brought her home from the hospital in diapers. I was born to be a big brother. It must just be hard-wired into me. I don’t think my little brother Kevin ever felt responsible for Ariel or Barbie because he didn’t have to be accountable.

I was the oldest, and my obligation was always clear. I had to protect my younger siblings from bullies and help them whenever I could. I’ve quietly watched my sister get her heart broken by some dumb boy who didn’t appreciate it. I’ve been a shoulder to cry on when she needed it. I’ve cleaned up her little messes and hid her mistakes from my parents. They didn’t even want her to date. I was the one who convinced them to let her finally go to the homecoming dance when we first moved to Sebastian.

I’ve got a thousand examples of times when I cleaned up a little mess for my sister or helped her out of a jam. I never once thought about her sexually during that time. I would have sooner looked at my mother as a sexual being than I would have at either of my sisters.

Yet, here she was willing to become my PERFECT slut. She had just destroyed all of her clothes in an epic burn publically at our house to prove to me how serious she was about following through with our new arrangement. If I told you how high I was feeling, I don’t think I could truly impress upon you with simple words that I was on top of the world.

I don’t usually have a lot to say unless it needs to be said. In the last 24 hours, I’d spoken to my sister more than I had in the last 24 days! Barbie is a chatterbox, and she talks almost as much as Ariel does. It was nice being able to make her shut up and listen to me whenever I wanted.

The thing is that I liked hearing her call me Master and tell me what an outstanding job I did with our parents to handle the mess she made with her little stunt destroying her clothes. I appreciated it, but it put me in a bind. It proved she didn’t have patience either. She wanted to jump right into the deep end, and I was going to let her. I’d be there like I always was to fish her out if she started to sink.

What I mean by that is now I had negotiated with my parents that she was permanently on restriction – at least until I say she isn’t. I let them believe that they set those terms, but by appealing to their motivations, I managed to convince them to let me be my sister’s keeper.

I wouldn’t have believed it possible until it actually happened that my parents would let me take charge of my sister and actually approve of what I wanted her to do. I’d already written rules that she would be doing the chores around the house. My little sister’s stunt gave me a reason to do that openly, which even my parents agreed with.

It was no accident that opportunity fell into my lap. When it was crunch time, and I saw that Dad was arriving home, I told Barbie precisely what I wanted her to do. I didn’t dwell on details because timing was everything. If I permitted my Dad to speak with my mom first, he would have let my mother set the tone.

Once I had him on my side, it made dealing with my mother’s doubts and concerns much easier. She was a hard sell, and I was prepared to concede I couldn’t get away with getting her explicit permission to make my sister do everything I wanted around the house. I even suggested some things I knew she would shoot down just so that I could concede them and walk away with the things I wanted.

I couldn’t wait to spend all weekend training my sister around the house right under my parents noses. I have to admit that it was kind of thrilling now that I had a chance to really think about what happened. I would have preferred to do everything in private in my room, but I could basically kick my sister’s ass around the house and come out smelling like a hero.

I didn’t need to justify my actions. I’d agreed without any sort of coercion that it was all for her own good. My sister seemed to need being controlled as much as I loved controlling her and her offer had opened my eyes to something I didn’t even know I’d enjoy so much, or even wanted to explore but I’m sure glad I accepted her challenge.

When we finally reached the plaza, the sun had set in the west. Sebastian is on the east coast, so we have some lovely sunrises. Tonight we had an outstanding sunset as well. Even as beautiful as it was, I couldn’t take my eyes off my sister’s luscious booty bouncing back and forth while she jogged just ahead and to the right of me. I could literally see the outline of her ass through those shorts.

“You say that Marilyn is Becky’s sister?” I asked.

“Yes, Master!” how I loved it when my sister called me Master. It PAINED me to tell her she had to reserve that for when we were alone. I doubt I could have sold that one to my parents.

“That explains the booty shorts. Lucky she was there, or I’d be staring at Spongebob Square-ass on the back of your shorts!” I joked. I found humor made these awkward times a little less uncomfortable. The thing is, Barbie seemed to prefer it when I was barking orders at her and being demanding. I worried that I’d eventually think of her only as a pet. I told her that is what she was, but that is because that is what she wanted to be. I still saw her as a person with feelings, and I didn’t want to continually be a drill sergeant.

It didn’t mean I didn’t frequently want to be one. “Knees up, ass jiggling, tits bouncing, chin up, let’s see you run like a good whore,” I reached out and smacked her bottom hard with the palm of my hand. People driving by may have thought we were boyfriend and girlfriend. I didn’t care much what they thought. I knew Barbie did though. I could tell she was constantly turning red with embarrassment, and I loved every delightful moment.

“I know you can give me to men but are you ever going to rent me for money, Sir?” my sister said.

I didn’t mind being called Sir. I wished there was something else she could call me that would reflect she was now my property and was bound to me. Sir sounded official, but it didn’t quite fit either. I wondered if I would be able to get away with getting her to call me Sir at home without her making it sound sarcastic. It might only work if she has to call Dad and any other guy Sir. I wondered if my little brother Kevin would freak out over that.

I knew he and Ariel heard our little pow-wow downstairs when mom and dad agreed my sister could be on restriction. If I knew Kevin, he already had a plan for how he’d try to turn my sister’s discomfort to his advantage. The thing that Kevin did not know was that I was already doing that with her full agreement and her reluctance had just been play-acting.

I let my silence be my answer for a little longer. “It costs money to manage a slut. I’d imagine that Dad is going to cut your allowance after what you did. I’ll probably rent you out for dates like an Uber. People can rent which hole they want to use! I can’t wait for you to be on birth control!” I smiled.

My sister smiled as well. She didn’t ask again about getting whored out. It was frankly not something I had really considered. Most of the time, my sister would ask a question out of the blue about how I was going to make her behave, and it would be the first time I ever thought about it.

I knew she wanted me to have a plan. I would simply remain confident and think about what was best for both of us and then tell her that is how it’s going to be now. She would sometimes even offer to go further than I was willing to make her go.

“What should I do if I want to use the bathroom at home, and you are not home, Sir?” she asked. I’d never imagined my parents would really let me micromanage her that way. I think they didn’t realize we were serious when it first came up.

“I will give you set times before I leave. You will need to take a picture of yourself squatting on the toilet. I don’t want you sitting down and enjoying yourself in there OR playing with yourself,” I said. We were almost too Goodwill, and I think some of the people walking into Publix heard us. She turned beet red and agreed with me.

“Would I tell Mom and Dad that you gave me that set time, or are they going to trust me?” she asked. She pouted slightly like she didn’t want to have to tell her parents. I felt like she might be play-acting reluctant much like she had with them. I don’t know why, but I liked her being reluctant but obedient. I liked the enthusiastic slut who was willing to do whatever I say too, but her reluctance was delicious.

“Good point. Mom and dad may not trust you to tell them the truth. I’ll post your bathroom schedule on the fridge,” I smirked.

“You wouldn’t dare, Sir!” My sister seemed delighted that I’d suggest it even though she wondered if I would really go through with it. I think the fact that I was so audaciously suggesting a total reboot and redesign of her entire persona, appealed to her. No one had ever dared tell my sister to be raunchy or misbehave, and now that I was, she seemed to get off on it.

“Pull your shorts down in the back. I want to see at least four inches of crack in the store!” I showed her just how much I would dare.

“Master, we could get kicked out!” My sister warned me while simultaneously reaching behind her and pulling down her shorts. An old man waiting for his wife to finish shopping noticed the crack of her lily-white ass and smiled. He nodded at me and winked. He had no idea what game we were playing, but anytime you can see a little girly ass crack is a good day. I love asses, and my sister has a nice one. It isn’t a big plump booty like Candy or even Becky has, but she definitely has a nice round bubble butt, even without the dimples. The crack itself is hairless and she just has the finest layer of blonde wisps of peach fuzz around her ass. Her hole is tight and pink, and her booty sweat tastes a little like parmesan cheese. I couldn’t wait to explore it more, later tonight.

“If anyone COMPLAINS you can say that you didn’t know, thank them and pull them up. Even if they take a photo, as long as they don’t complain, I want you to act oblivious like you don’t know that your cheeks are hanging out,” I said as we entered Goodwill.

The store was full of hand-me-downs and junk that most people should have thrown away but felt guilty to take it to the dump. You could find everything from a row of red, wine colored polo shirts that had obviously been used as uniforms at some restaurant, to old VHS tapes of Full House in a cardboard box.

They were surprisingly busy, and as soon as my sister saw there were at least twenty customers along with a half a dozen employees, she was mortified. She instinctively reached behind her back to pull up her shorts. I slapped her hand and wagged my finger at her. “Anytime you pull them back it up or adjust yourself, I am going to make you expose something else!”

“Is this how I have to act in every store, Master?” she asked.

Once again, it wasn’t something I had thought about. I was caught up in the moment. “Yeah, when we are alone like this, I want you to actively try to show some skin like it is second nature because it WILL be your new nature. I don’t care what you display – tits, ass, pussy, by bending over, hanging out, whatever. But if I have to TELL you to do it because I don’t notice, I’ll decide something you definitely don’t want to have to do in public! Guys like seeing pretty asses. You saw that old man smile when you showed him your crack!”

“He did, Sir?” my sister seemed flattered. She must not have noticed. She pointed out there were already a dozen women who’d taken notice of how she was wearing her shorts and looked at her with scorn on their faces. I’d barely noticed. Most older women that shop at night in a Goodwill, look like they’d just smelled a dry fart and I can’t tell that, from fresh scorn for my sister’s trashy appearance.