Chapter 7

The girls went about their chores after they cleaned up from the enema as if that were a perfectly every day, routine experience. It was for them, but for me, my boner was starting to hurt. I thought about jacking off in private someplace, but the entire house seemed intentionally designed with minimal privacy. Even the bathroom had a big window with a pillowy curtain. Out here in the country, there was no need for concern from nosy neighbors.

I reflected on how impressed the girls seem to be with my cock and how accepting they were of me touching their bottoms to insert the enema nozzle. This was shaping up to be a really fantastic yet surreal day.

Heather and Jayne were very gassy after the enema session. Jayne blushed when she let out the daintiest toot near me. Heather was less than apologetic and seemed proud of the sound her ass made.

“Welcome to the family, I guess,” she joked playfully. They were letting their guard down around me. I took her words to mean they were starting to accept me as a fixture around the house.

“Sorry about that. Our asses suck wind after a good enema,” Jayne tried to explain. I assumed that the enema had cleaned them out and opened them up pretty good.

“Do you like getting enemas?” I asked.

I don’t think the girls had ever thought about whether they liked them. I had the distinct impression it had been a routine part of their life for so long it was like taking a bath or using the bathroom to most people – something you take for granted.

“I don’t mind it, if that is what you are asking. It is filthy to carry our shit in our assholes,” Jayne said bluntly.

“I suppose there is a bible verse forbidding women to do that?” I teased. The girls looked up and to the right as if they were thinking there probably was. It wasn’t long before Jayne held up a finger and quoted Deuteronomy.

“And you shall have a trowel with your tools, and when you sit down outside, you shall dig a hole with it and turn back and cover up your excrement.”

“Very good,” I smiled as if I was testing her. Jayne seemed pleased that she passed my test and continued shuffling things around the living room to straighten up.

“For a lewd woman is a deep ditch; and a strange woman is a narrow pit, Proverbs 23:27!” Heather didn’t want to be outdone by her little sister and quoted that strange line from the Bible.

“I am not sure that was the one I was looking for, but are you a deep ditch or a narrow pit?”

“I guess a little bit of both,” Heather laughed after a moment of introspection and carried laundry outside to hang on the line. I watched the sway of her ass and her tits as she left the house and walked out into the backyard. It seemed strange to think that these women had laundry, but they wore clothes out in public.

“You will do anything I tell you?” I asked Jayne.

“Yes, Sir,” Jayne replied as if that was not up for discussion.

“You don’t mind?” I asked.

“It doesn’t matter if I mind. Do you mind answering to your father and God, Sir?” she asked. It was an interesting point. I never questioned that my father was in charge. He was my dad, and that was just how things were. It was so surreal that they would put me on the same pedestal.

“So, if I told you to dance around, you would just do it?” I asked.

Jayne answered by joyfully dancing about. Jayne was still topless, and her smallish boobs jiggled as she wriggled her hips and hopped about for me to a tuneless melody that existed only in her head.

I told her she could stop. I asked her if she wondered why I told her to dance for me. I wanted to know if they even questioned my orders or just blindly obeyed.

“I guess you were testing my obedience, Sir. It is not my place to question you,” she added with a blind obedient look.

“You just met me, though. You aren’t worried that I’d make you do something weird?” I asked.

“Weird, like dance? 2 Samuel 6:14. And David was dancing before the Lord with all his might, and David was wearing a linen ephod.”

“What’s an ephod?” I asked.

“I don’t know, Sir. I am sorry!”

I didn’t know the answer either. I assumed it was probably something like a loincloth. I changed the conversation. I could tell she was looking at the bulge in my pants, and she seemed a little uncomfortable being questioned. I didn’t want Jayne to be uncomfortable, and I wasn’t used to a girl giving me the time of day. I wanted to get in as many questions as I could so that I could understand these remarkable girls.

“How do you keep your dietary habits and chastity belts secret from the other girls at school? Surely, someone has noticed you don’t eat normal lunch or won’t change in the locker room?” I asked Jayne when we were alone.

She put a finger to her lip and thought about it. “Most people think we are very stuck up, and no one talks to us. You never talked to us,” she added.

I tried to point out that I was intimidated by them, but Jayne didn’t seem to understand why that would stop me. She assumed anyone who didn’t talk to her was the one with the problem and not her.

“Can I talk to you at school when I see you now?” I asked.

“I don’t see why not? You are going to be my step-brother. I don’t care so much if people know I am a Christian. I know Heather minds, but I sometimes feel guilty I have to hide my beliefs.”

“Wouldn’t guys try to take advantage of you if they knew you would do anything that a guy tells you?” I asked.

Jayne looked offended. “God would never put an exploitive man in my path if I am righteous. If he does, then I deserved it. I don’t do ANYTHING a guy tells me. I obey you because you are the oldest man in the house. If some random stranger walks up to me, then I do not owe him my obedience or respect,” she explained.

I thought that made some sense, even though I still didn’t feel worthy of her obedience or respect. “If I tell you to do something at school, will you do it?”

Jayne stopped working for a moment and looked at me in earnest. She cocked an eyebrow, and a smile ran across her lips. “Are you willing to supervise us at school, Sir?”

“You didn’t answer my question,” I observed. One of my father’s pet peeves was people who avoid direct questions.

“I am sorry, Sir, yes, I would obey you as my brother. I thought you might be embarrassed by us,” she admitted.

I told Jayne to bring me the riding crop and bend over. My father would never let me get away with not answering one of his questions. It seemed she felt the same and accepted her mistake. “I am going to give you ten swats for not answering my question when I first asked it.”

Jayne excitedly brought me the brush and grabbed her ankles. I could see her cute little pooter hole, and I thought for a moment she winked it at me.

The leather riding crop smelled good. The old leather was worn but firm, and it felt right in my hand. I popped the pretty girl’s petit ass with the crop, and she counted the first stroke. She told me that I could use my hand if I preferred.

I popped her again with it and asked her what she preferred.

“Two, Sir, any implement of torment of my female flesh to remind me of my place would be preferable. I have no preference.”

“You seemed to have gotten a little familiar with me as we spoke. Do you agree that I am the one in charge today?” I popped her butt again. She quivered a little, and her legs shook as if she were trying to hold back an excitement.

“Three, Sir, yes, you are in charge. I am sorry. You were talking to me so casually that I forgot my place. Thank you for this reminder.”

I popped her butt again, this time striking on the ring around her asshole. I assumed she would not mind, and she didn’t complain. I asked her why she was so excited to have me be in charge of her at school.

“Four Sir, my sister and I are often tempted to be cruel and look down our noses at people. We judge and tease those who stare at us, and it feeds our vanity. We have never had anyone remind us of our place while we are in public school. It would save us a lot of confession time.”

I was a little confused by that statement. I popped her butt again, this time focusing strictly on her cute little asshole. The metal ring made it difficult but not impossible to hit her in the most sensitive spot between her butt cheeks. I asked her if she was hoping I would supervise them so they would be punished less.

“Yes, Sir, a sinner must admit her sin and ask for forgiveness through contrition. If you are there to lead us from temptation, we will have less to forgive when we get home. I just don’t think ... never mind,” she added.

I made her continue and popped her ass again – reminding her to count each stroke.

“Six, Sir, I was saying that I am not sure you understand what an undertaking it is. You are enjoying today, but after months of constantly keeping us in line, you might think us a hopeless cause. We will never be free from temptation or the need to atone for our indulgences and shortcomings.”

I was getting so horny. The idea of perpetually seeing this girl’s asshole was enough promise to me that I could safely say I wouldn’t get tired of them. She seemed to think otherwise and that my excitement might fade. She told me that her mother had dated before (not recently) and that the men eventually lost interest or thought the girls were too much trouble. It took a couple strokes of the paddle to get her to tell me that.

“If God led me on the path to be your shepherd, then I trust he knew what he was doing,” I switched to using my hand on her ass. The first slap was exciting. Her butt felt warm from the Florida sun and I could not believe how smooth it felt.