Chapter 26

The spontaneous and loving family hug we shared ended after a good 5 minutes. Athena hadn’t been joking about Freddy’s erection. She had cum on her right butt cheek.

We were all happy, and my face was glowing with excitement and genuine love for my family. However, the reality of the situation was that I was still a pet and still obliged to serve.

“When I tell you to do something, when do you do it?” Athena grabbed a crop and began to slap me hard across the ass with it to remind me she was in charge and she had been serious about giving my son a hand-job when she told me to.

“Right away, Ma’am! Right away!” I yelped and stuck my ass out as I leaned into the pain. It stung, but it was more the realization that I really should have excused myself while THEY hugged and taken care of what I needed to do.

“You see, I can’t DO punishment,” Freddy has seen me switched around the common areas of the house through seven Masters and now through two mistresses. This was nothing new to him. He often leaves the room when things get intense or deeply humiliating for me. He was horrified to discover that anyone would hurt me when this first began, and corporal punishment was done only minimal around him.

After a few months of seeing bruises on my tits, red-bottoms, and strap marks, he came to accept that pain was simply a part of my life and that it was necessary. I think it was Master Steve (before Randy’s time) that insisted on executing harsh punishments in the living room that finally got Freddy over his fear that someone was really hurting me.

The girls reminded him about Master Steve. Steve used to make me do these extended three part apologies where I admitted what I did wrong, begged for correction and then pleaded to be forgiven. He would ask me how much I deserved to be punished and make himself the redeemer in this situation. He wasn’t the bad guy hurting Freddy’s Mom. He was the nice guy giving me what I asked for.

“They’re right, Sir!” I counted another whip-crack against my ass. “I could stand up and walk away. I could pull that crop out of their hand and threaten to hit them with it,” I admitted as I counted again. I winced in pain.

He told me that I was a pet and pets don’t do that.

“Mean pets who are vindictive and spiteful will bite the hand that feeds them, and I’ve been very mean in the past, Mister Freddy! You know that,” I assured him. He didn’t argue. Some of my break-ups with Masters ended in shouting matches (With me doing the shouting). I was lucky that hadn’t happened with Randy.

“I laughed at your sisters when they offered to discipline me. I didn’t think they could do it. They’ve proven time and again they are smarter and wiser than me. I am begging you to prove to me that you can be smarter and wiser than me. I am a dumb whore – I didn’t listen when Miss Athena told me to pull you off, and now she has cum on her leg!”

“That’s my fault. I am sorry! I didn’t mean to put white stuff there,” he said.

“That’s cum Freddy,” Athena didn’t wipe her ass cheek off. She kept spanking me.

“Yeah, cum. I didn’t mean to do it. We were just all hugging and squeezing and it sort of shot out a little. You know how like when you have snail trails hanging down from your cunt,” Freddy told me. He likes pointing out when I have a long strand of girly-goo hanging from one of my pussy lips. I still get embarrassed each and every time because I feel like I shouldn’t be getting off on any of this treatment.

“That’s a natural reaction for boys. Sandy would have jizzed on one of us too. That is why his cock is in a cage. If I had stopped what I was doing, I could have given you a hand job, and this wouldn’t have happened. Please let them punish me for failing to do as they ordered. It is the only way I learn,” I assured him.

“You learn this way? Through being treated like a pet?” light bulbs of understanding were going off in Freddy’s head.

“Yes, Sir, I learn to control my anger and desire to control. I learn to work harder and give more without concern for my own pleasure or dignity. I am not perfect – I still think about it. I am not tempted to sit on the couch when you are not here.”

“So this is what you wanted Master Randy and all the others to do to you all along?” he asked.

“I didn’t know quite how far they had to push me. I never would have thought of running a brothel in your house. I have always known that I needed discipline, just not what kind and how it should be administered, Sir.”

I had chosen the words “your house” because I really meant it. It was their house now as far as I was concerned – I was just permitted to live in it.

I could tell that he had never thought about any of this. He avoided confrontations like his father often did, and punishments were a type of confrontation. I just hoped he wasn’t getting the wrong ideas – I was not a fit teacher.

“So you do not like what they are doing? You look like you do because your cunt is dripping,” he observed. I bit my lip and turned a bright shade of red. My nipples were hard, and the light whipping was definitely getting me excited.

“Yes, Sir. I am getting turned on by the pain. Just like you didn’t want to cum on your sister’s ass cheek during the hug, I don’t want to drip during a punishment.

That is why I beg for more extensive and extreme punishments when I do something REALLY wrong, and getting turned on during a punishment is a big one. My mind should focus on what I did wrong and how I can avoid doing it again instead of naughty thoughts. Only a wicked bitch like me gets turned on by having their naked ass cropped!”

Freddy looked like he was taking notes in his mind. The girls didn’t relent. Myra joined her sister, and they began to alternate slapping my tits and my cunt with the crop.

“So why don’t I get punished for getting turned on and you do?” he asked.

“The rules are different for me. You are my owner and entitled to do things I cannot do without permission.”

“There are things we can do that you can NEVER do – because you will never be given permission,” Myra reminded me and smacked my ass. It was feeling pretty sore now. I thanked her for reminding me.

“Punishments for women are sometimes different than ones for men. We are built differently. We have different parts and sensations. When you started slowly masturbating your sister last night, you spent five minutes giving her orgasm after orgasm until she winced and fell to her knees,” I hadn’t seen it, but I heard all about it. The girls even saved a clip of it from the security camera. I think that was Myra’s idea.

“I masturbated you?” Freddy asked his sister. He apparently thought he was doing something else – maybe just making her feel good or giving her a massage on the pussy.

“Yes, Sir, what did you think that was?” Athena continued beating me. We were no longer keeping count.

“Masturbating is jerking my penis. I thought that was pulling that flap between your legs,” Freddy seemed so naïve. I nearly laughed at his honest mistake. The girls did too, and they told him what a clit hood was. Myra has a big clit, so she showed him how she could jerk it off but also stick fingers inside of her and how they were both forms of masturbation to her.

“It was embarrassing to your sister to be watched by a room full of horny men as she got her rocks off slowly by her little brother for a full five minutes. It might be a totally different experience for a boy who got his cock jerked off slowly for a full five minutes in a room full of horny older women.

“That embarrassed you. I am so sorry. I thought I was giving you pleasure because you were working so hard,” Freddy admitted. That was the stumbling block he had in understanding his sister’s offer.

“Sometimes I like being embarrassed, Mister Freddy, and sometimes I don’t. I didn’t like it last night because I didn’t expect it or know what was going to happen. I was talking with a long-time regular customer, and he watched me do something that was normally very private for me. I am not shy, but I felt raw and exposed and like everyone was looking at me like I was this stupid slut,” she admitted.

“So why would you want me to do that to you again?”

Athena sighed and stopped beating me. She turned to Freddy and touched his chin with the whip. “You can be such a stubborn bull-head sometimes. I liked what you did – just not how you did it. You surprised me but not in a good way. The customers loved it. I am willing to SACRIFICE some of my comfort to experience it again – as long as there is a mutual understanding that I didn’t really do anything wrong and that you aren’t really a meanie.”

“Oh, okay. Why didn’t you say that in the first place?” Freddy sat down. His dick was still hard.

“Honey, come here and lick his cum off my ass and then jerk him off please,” Athena rarely said please to me. I crawled to where she stood and licked the little dab of cum on her right butt cheek off. It tasted a little like butter.

Freddy sat on the couch naked. I cringed a little. I know – it’s just an object, and I shouldn’t care that it gets butt sweat on it. It’s not my couch any longer either - it belongs to him and his sisters.

I knelt at his feet and made a choice. I would give him a very long, gentle and slow five minute hand-job. I reached up carefully and took his cock in my hand. At first, I could not look up at Freddy. I found it difficult to make eye contact with him while I touched him.

My daughter told me to look at him. “From now on, look at him every time and hold your mouth open in case he wants to shoot.”

I held my mouth open. It would only be a matter of time before I had to swallow his cum. I had worn it before. I told myself cocks are cocks and cum is cum – it doesn’t matter that he is my son. It still felt strange to be handling him.

Myra said that she had a new rule, but it only needed to apply to her. Athena narrowed her eyes skeptically.

“I am down with using the same vulgar words that Mom and Dad use for anything on my body and anything that comes out of my body. I am okay with being punished anytime I forget. I am okay with punishing you if you forget,” Myra looked at Athena.

“But you,” Myra looked straight at her little brother while he was getting a hand-job. “It just sounds silly when you say it. Your voice is so squeaky and you giggle and say things like farty or white stuff. I don’t want to punish you or make you use vulgarity. I would like to know if you both will give me your permission not to enforce the rule on Mister Freddy?”

Freddy was relieved. He had not even been trying to follow that rule, and the girls had both selectively been ignoring it for a while. He was new to this, and they didn’t want to punish him constantly.

“Mister Freddy, I hate to say that I agree with Myra on this. I think you can eventually be held to the same rule, but your voice needs to drop two octaves first,” she giggled. Her voice was sweet and angelic, and when she said dirty words, it often made me blush – but it sounded natural coming from her in a way. She could have probably have been a bubbly phone sex operator if she had wanted to try that.

“I am good with that,” Freddy leaned back.

“But you need to get your ass off the furniture,” Myra said immediately. “As a courtesy, I am not going to punish you because you are getting your dick stroked – and not the crappy short-cut way that Miss Athena and I would have done it,” she added.

My son slid off the couch and angled his cock up at me so that I could pull him off. I moved so that I could show him my open mouth. Men love to see an open mouth when they are getting a handjob.

“Okay, toy time,” the girls got excited to unbox some of the Amazon packages they had ordered the night before. The money had been rolling in and the girls deserved to splurge.

“There should be a professional job unboxing things. I love doing it,” Athena neatly cut into a package with a pair of scissors.

“There is you dumb-bunny, it is called being a star on YouTube. They do it all the time,” Myra ripped her box open without concern for the packaging.

The girls were so different at times and in other ways so much the same.

“Maybe we should start a YouTube channel about Mom, you know? We could call it “How to train your mother.”

“I doubt anyone would believe we are for real. I’ve seen a bunch of BDSM people on YouTube with big followings. They even allow nudity if it is for artistic purposes,” Myra suggested.

I found it hard to believe there were actually YouTube channels like that, but I found out later that there were a lot and all you had to do was type in a search string like “Tying up mom challenge”.

“Yeah, we could do an entire episode about painting on Mom,” Athena said. She held up some small suction cups to her nipples to model them for everyone. It was in one of the boxes they opened.

Freddy stopped them and asked why they had not gone to the nearest corner to start dancing.

“I thought it was decided earlier. Mom was right. She is our Mom, she is just powerless to control us, advise us, yell at us, guilt us, punish us, or kick us out. We aren’t fooling anyone with that rule. We all still think of Sandy as Dad and Honey as Mom,” Athena spoke truthfully, and the others acknowledged it.

“So can I still say you broke that rule when I come down at night during the sessions?” he said.

“I don’t think so. A few of the customers doubt we are really related, and they cite the fact we always refer to her by her first name. I don’t care because it doesn’t matter what they think. You can say that I called you by your first name.”

“Well, we are equals – on the same level. Can’t you call me by my first name?” Freddy asked.

“Would you like that, Mister Freddy?” Athena smiled like a darling.

“Not really, I like It the best when you call me Sir. You just never do it when my friends are around. When you call me Mister Freddy, it sounds like you are teasing me sometimes,” he said.

“Well, I am teasing you. That’s why you should want to punish me at night. You can think about all the times Miss Myra and I played a joke on you and get even with us,” she laughed.

“What times?” Freddy seemed confused.

Myra and Athena rapidly listed off a dozen things they had done. They sounded like they were bragging about their clever pranks – although they also seemed to be contrite now upon reflection of how they treated their little brother at times.

They were also fiercely protective of him, and they scared off his bullies whenever possible. I knew that first hand and have watched them do it since grade school. I believe that Freddy had new bullies that he hid from the girls because he was getting embarrassed when they fought his battles for him.

All of these pranks and shenanigans had transpired long before their new arrangement with me. They were mostly pretty harmless and typical sibling rivalry jokes that older sisters often pull on gullible little brothers. Short-sheeting his bed (so that he thought there was a sheet and there wasn’t), Holding him down and giving him noogies and tickling him until he crapped his pants, painting his nails and making him play dress-up with him. Most of this stuff happened years ago.

Some of it got him in trouble, but I spoiled him and rarely punished him. I suspect from what I heard them admit they did to him that only made the girls more intent on pranking him until he did.

Keep in mind that while they jogged down memory lane and laughed about some of their more notable pranks on their little brother, I was slowly jerking his cock while kneeling in front of him and holding my mouth open wide like he was one of my customers.

“Okay, I thought that was just what older sisters get to do. I am not mad about any of that, it was fun,” Freddy didn’t even flinch when they said they had been wiping their butts with his tooth brush and putting it back for him to use.

“I put your butt plug in my mouth yesterday and sucked it clean,” he reminded them.

“Fair point,” Myra held up some plastic pig-noses with straps that went around my head they bought for me. She put one to her nose and winked playfully. “How about when we used to color the back of your pants brown every day when you were in third grade, so people started calling you poopy pants?”

“Well, that was pretty mean,” Freddy reflected.

“Then there was the time when you were in sixth grade, we gave a note to Mary Jean Watkins that we said was from you telling her that you thought she had cooties and smelled like farts,’ Athena smiled.

Freddy acknowledged that the girl never spoke to him again after that.

“We were dumb brats in middle school, and we shouldn’t have done all that to you and gotten you in trouble. It was mean. I freely admit that I am giving you a chance to get payback at night,” Athena smiled at him, but she was quite serious.

“Yeah, but it wouldn’t be real payback because you didn’t really do those things I said you did,” Freddy didn’t seem vengeful anyway. He was just making a point that it wasn’t quite the same.

“To a room full of horny men, it is going to look like I did, and it is going to feel like I did, look if you don’t want to do this, we aren’t going to make you. We just thought it would be a fun distraction,” Athena left it at that. Athena cooed as she admired what was in the next package. She held up two matching leather collars. They were smaller than mine and didn’t have a lock. They could probably pass for patent leather chokers and they had a Goth-punk vibe to them.

She handed one to her sister and put one on herself. I felt a gnawing at the pit of my stomach watching the girls put on a submissive collar – it didn’t seem right given their station in the house. I wore one when I was in charge, but I was trying to bridge both worlds. I wondered if that is what they were doing in their own way.

“Do you want one too? I can order you one,” Athena asked her brother if he wanted one himself and admired herself by using her camera phone as a mirror.

Freddy said he didn’t want to be mistaken for a submissive like his father. He seemed confused by the girl’s choice as well.

“The customers think we are submissive anyway because we run them drinks and snacks and squat while they are talking to us. We may as well look the part. The reason we call you Sir, and eat off the floor and do some of the things we do may confuse you. We aren’t slaves, and we aren’t submissives – in order to learn to control one, we wanted to experience some of what Mom and Dad do. I am not making a rule that either you or Myra have to wear the collar, but I am going to keep mine on except to clean it, and I am going to call you Sir around your friends. If I say it in a tone that makes me sound like a bitch or forget it is your choice to punish me or not. I won’t punish you if you don’t call me Ma’am or Miss Athena,” Athena decided.

“Yeah, me either,” Myra fit her collar around her neck.

“Wait, you are really going to call me Sir around my friends at school?”

“It’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” Athena asked.

“Yeah,” Freddy got quiet. “What could I do if you don’t say it while I am at school?”

“I thought you weren’t okay with punishing us,” Athena looked a bit like a Spider the way she was sitting on the floor fidgeting with the next box.

“I am just asking because you said I could if I wanted. So what could I do?” Freddy asked again.

“Punishing us inconsistently for behavior won’t teach us anything or change us, but I suppose it would depend on who is there. If a teacher is watching, the punishment would have to be pretty light.”

“Let’s say it was just me and Doozer and Raiden and we are in the library,” Freddy seemed suddenly interested – very interested. His friends called each other by their Gamertags and not their real first names. Their real names were Donny and Hugo. I’ve met them – they haven’t come to the house for seven months since I started training.

“Well, I suppose you could give me a letter and a number corresponding to a row and tell me to go stand at attention in that remote section of the library,” Athena offered. She held up some smaller butt plugs with LED lights in the base that lit up when you squeezed them with your asshole. Myra and her laughed.

“That’s it?” Freddy seemed less than impressed.

“I’ll stand there for five minutes like that unless a teacher tells me to stop. If you come to where I am, then you can lift my skirt all the way up if you want and leave me like that,” Athena said with a more serious tone.

“That’s all?”

“You can ask me any questions you like as long as you whisper in the library,” Athena whispered for effect and a wintry smirk ran across her face. “Then if you are not satisfied with my answers about why I chose not to call you Sir and don’t believe I simply forgot, and you are carrying clothespins you can attach two to my cunt flaps and tell me that I have an hour before I can remove them. If I see you in that hour and you have the time and a relatively private space, you can make me stand at attention and ask me the same questions or different ones. If you are convinced, I learned my lesson, you can remove them early make me clean them and forgive me.”