Chapter 15

Most nights, my brother and I stay up talking. The last two nights I was so exhausted and my mind full of new thoughts (mostly perverted) that I fell right asleep.

“Lucas, has this gone too far?” Georgie asked me.

It had, but I didn’t want it to stop. I told him that I thought our parents may have taken things a bit too far.

“They’ve gone off the deep end. A month ago, they were spanking Katie’s butt over her parents, and now she is Freckles the Dog,” Georgie said. He was right. Georgie didn’t talk a lot around my parents, but when we were alone, he talked all of the time and made excellent points. I felt guilty about what we were doing when he said that. “Do you like it though? I mean like, I am trying to not to enjoy this or make it a big deal. You know?”

“You enjoy it?”

“I am sorry, I thought you did, never mind,” Georgie rolled over and pretended to sleep.

I waited a minute and told him I loved it. He sat back up and smiled. We compared notes about the filthiest things we liked the most about it. Georgie didn’t like butt stuff very much and said it was smelly and pussies smelled like salty fish. He was all about tits – the way they bounced, and how hard their nipples got.

To me that was nice, but not very fascinated. The way he described it, their nipples were like thermometers that would tell him how hot they were. “They like it. They like being treated this way. Not all of it, but when you told Mom that you walked Freckles on a leash and Mom laughed? I swear that Freckles had a serious orgasm.”

I hadn’t noticed, but I believed him.

I knew they liked some of the things they did. I told Georgie that sometimes it’s involuntary for them. “It’s like if I gave you a hand job. You wouldn’t LIKE it, but you may get hard.”

“I would not, and no you can’t test that out,” Georgie chuckled. We compared notes and tried to make sense of why some things that seemed like they would make them miserable seemed to thrill them. We both agreed that Bubbles was an enigma. Georgie said he knew exactly how she thinks.

“She is exactly like me, but as a girl, so she is completely different,” he said.

I thought he was joking and told him sarcastically that made perfect sense.

“I don’t know how to explain it. You know like Yin and Yang?” he drew a circle with a dark side and a black side on a sheet of note paper. “The dark and the white come together to make a whole person?”

He explained that they complemented each other and theorized that in the womb they may have been one person. “I have dark thoughts sometimes, really wicked,” he didn’t and wouldn’t elaborate. “Bubbles is rainbow and light. But she has,” Georgie struggled to explain his sister’s mind.

When they were little, they made up their own language and only they understood it. They could still speak it to each other. It sounded like “Dubba-dubba-dubba-dubba-dub?” to me. I thought they were pretending, but Georgie swore it worked somehow.

“In my brain, I see the picture of the word as a concept,” he said. I didn’t believe in ESP or anything like that, but I told him that it might be that.

“All I know is that I totally get why she wants to be punished. She doesn’t want mom and dad to be mad at her though. She doesn’t want to do anything destructive or bad to get punished, but she likes what we are doing,” he said.

I knew that – she told us that.

“Yeah, but no one really gets it. She likes it, likes it. Like, when the two weeks is up, she is going to want to keep doing it,” he was as certain of that as he was of his own name. I had a feeling she would ride it out as long as it lasted but that she’d eventually get bored or tired of the harder parts of it.

“If she wants to keep doing it after it is over, will you punish her? Like you are now, just maybe don’t tell Mom and Dad?”

I didn’t think that was possible.

“If we don’t, she will find guys at school. She is a big flirt. She wasn’t kidding when she said she had two boyfriends. She’s nice to everyone in class. The least popular, shyest boy in class, the underdog. That’s who she wants.”

“That sounds like me,” I joked.

Georgie didn’t answer. He just told me that if the two of us did NOT punish her she’d find someone who would – and they might not be so careful or nice. I agreed with him, and we both agreed not to mention it to our parents because we weren’t entirely sure it was even true.

“So, I gotta favor to ask,” Georgie was very reluctant to trust me with his secret. I’ve kept thousands of secrets over the years and never gave him up. I was insulted that he was reluctant to tell me something.

“Sometimes you ask me to help you, and I wish you wouldn’t,” he said. I told him that I wouldn’t, and I was disappointed this was his secret. I told him I’d handle it all by myself.

“No, that’s not what I mean,” he apologized. “Okay, this goes nowhere else?” he made me pinky-swear/brother bond, this secret handshake we do on really important stuff.

“Don’t ask me to help. Just tell me, okay? I don’t want to be the bad guy,” he said.

“So, I have to be the bad guy?” I arched an eyebrow.

“Give me a break, you love it,” he chuckled. I did. “You are going to be the boss anyway. Just, treat me like your assassin. You know? You are the mastermind, and I am the henchman that carries out your orders,” he said.

That I understood. “So, you want me to TELL you to put a finger in their butts?”

“Yeah, don’t say it so loud. Okay? But also,” he started to add something else and decided that it didn’t make sense and he wouldn’t tell me.

“So, keep your secrets!” I quoted a line from the Lord of the Rings movies (I am a big nerd in case you didn’t guess).

He changed the subject back to the girls and their reasons and justifications. We both agreed that a LOT of this they did not enjoy on any level. Sleeping on the floor hurt their backs, and they would wake up sore and have to stretch their muscles. A lot of times they were genuinely in pain or embarrassed by something, and they did not like that.

However, SOME humiliation seemed to turn them on – especially Freckles. We didn’t know why and what exactly it was about certain situations that had that effect on her. It seemed like her pussy would explode with juice and drip. We just didn’t know the trigger because we couldn’t figure out what was common to all of the scenarios.

I even created a little grid and tried to figure it out based on my observations. My brother and I decided to compare notes about what set off the girls.

“They aren’t supposed to take pleasure in any of this,” I said.

“Yeah, but this kind of pleasure – it’s not like hand job and you relax. It’s like riding in a haunted house. “They get so scared, but they know the ghosts aren’t REALY going to hurt them. In that moment, I think they like it.”

I didn’t think that was applicable to all of it – but the adrenalin rush sometimes did do that to them. Then there were subtle times. I explained that didn’t apply to Mom finding out Freckles shit in a bush. Georgie scrunched his nose and acted like he could smell it from his bed. He had no interest in that.

“Don’t order me to walk the dog,” he said.

“Some henchmen you are! You are already telling me what orders you will and won’t do,” I joked.

We theorized into the night about how Bubbles, Buffy and Freckles were wired differently and tried to find ways they had in common, or ways we could push their buttons. We also theorized about how might be able to beat the snot out of them in wrestling matches.

We also wondered what would happen when their boyfriends finally did meet Buffy and Freckles as they were now, and whether that was an empty threat to mess with the girls. Dad tended not to make empty threats, but he also created fun little scenarios like the ones he played along with at the campground when the manager reported our sisters for things they never did.

We surmised that they would NOT orgasm or like that very much and it was possible those guys would think we were ALL insane. “Yeah, but could you imagine if you are told you can have a girlfriend who can’t refuse you a hand job?”

“But she can’t refuse her brothers either,” Georgie asked.

As we drifted to sleep, the topic changed one more time to my parents. It started with the theory that they might give hand relief to Dad and we both agreed that wasn’t happening. He had Mom and wouldn’t get blue balls.

“Why do they know about this strip club? How would they know Buford?” I asked.

Georgie hadn’t thought about that. He yawned himself awake, scratched his head and farted. “Simplest answer is usually the right one,” He repeated something our dad often said. “Dad goes to the strip club, and Mom goes with him, so he doesn’t cheat on her, like Mr. Miller does on his wife.”

My parents rarely went out at night, and usually they were home pretty early. I am no detective, but it wasn’t adding up to me. They have gone off on weekends at times to the nearby flea market out in Durham, but they just weren’t party people. It also cost a LOT of money to hang out with strippers.

I didn’t know how much but in rap videos they ‘made it rain’ dollar bills. My parents were penny pinchers that scraped and saved for a vacation in Myrtle Beach. It was probably just a red herring, and eventually, I fell asleep with thoughts about butts, tits and wide open pussies in my face.

That morning Dad woke me up early. He seemed disappointed that I wasn’t up and ready to go.

“I told you not to fuck around,” Dad chided me sternly with no trace of humor in his voice. He woke my brother up and brought us to the committee room. I told you previously the girls were told not to think of this as their room. It was just wear their slept now. The door was wide open, and they were naked on the floor bound tightly.

Dad instructed me to untie the girls. I snapped my fingers “Georgie, help me!”

Georgie bent down quickly and smiled. He seemed pleased to be put to work. The girls groaned and mumbled about needing more ‘beauty sleep’. A slap to the tit shut Buffy up and then a little rope burns by pulling it between her pussy lips made her behave more respectfully.

“Tonight, I expect you will be trained to deep throat and pleasure your dildos,” Dad pumped imaginary iron like a dumb-bell to continue his metaphor about how training was progressive and not stagnate. “Today, get used to having something in your mouth. We’ll do gratitude a little differently,” he instructed as the girls stretched their muscles and tried to wipe the sleep out of their eyes.

He put them in spread them pose facing away from us with their heads down on their dildos. “I want to hear you talk, so lick the tips of your dildos between words and make us feel appreciated,” he said that he would start with Buffy since she had the biggest ass and the most gratitude to give.

“I don’t want to hear your life story and all of your transgressions this morning. I want you to convince me of your new name, tell the three of us why you appreciate us training you, and then why you volunteer to be trained like a slut. Go,”

“Good morning, gentlemen; I am Buffalo Butt. My hobbies are long walks on the beach, skinny-skiing and...”

Dad kicked her hard on the cunt like he was punting a football. “Unlike you, I have a JOB. I need to be on the road. I am NOT in the mood for your little jokes,” he said. “No coffee for her today,” he told me.

“I was planning on making her my dog,” I said.

Buffy said nothing but the expression on her face was remorse. I could tell she was thinking ‘all I did was try to tell a joke. You are over-reacting’. I planned to make her my dog since last night anyway when Dad mentioned it.

“Oh good, that makes what I have to show you much easier,” Dad said as he asked me if I remembered what to write on her ass. Freckles hadn’t fully washed off the words Geiles Luder on her buttocks. I said it and dad pronounced it with a German accent. He told me to write it on her ass with a marker, so I grabbed the one we used yesterday.

Dad had a box with him. He showed us that it was a ‘tail’. “The end is a butt plug,” he showed it to all of us. The girls looked over their shoulders. He wanted them to see how thick and flanged it was. It was made of silicon similar to Jimin U shaped dildo that Buffy owned. It had a cute black tail in the back that curved up.

“No more spoons today,” he said. He grabbed my sister’s head, held it up and in place with his powerful fist, and forced it down her throat. “You can make her lick it, but I have to go soon, and your sister isn’t a China doll that will crumble if she is treated a little rough,” He explained to us. “You like this, don’t you, Buffy?”