Chapter 15

“Give ... give me your ... give me your top then, Erin. You said earlier that they’re just breasts.”

I mentally high-fived myself. Dad was doing something so out of character that I could hardly believe he’d actually said that!

“Okay, daddy. Watch,” I said, blushing wildly myself.

I took a step back and reached for the string that would untie the bikini. I REALLY didn’t want to do this but I’d promised Rich and I had to get used to men seeing me even if this man was a man in genetics only. The knit caught and I had to tug on it, which made my boobs jiggle.

Dad swallowed a few times but kept his eyes on mine. He couldn’t look at my boobs directly, but at least he was trying.

Then the string came free. It had been providing more support than I’d realized. My boobs fell right out the bottom of the bikini bra. Dad’s eyes widened and he licked suddenly dry lips. My dad was looking at my boobs!

“Are you sure about ... all this, Erica,” dad asked, seemingly reluctant to tear his eyes off my chest, to look into my eyes.

“I’m doing it, aren’t I daddy?” I replied even though I knew my face was burning up under my heavy makeup as much as it had from Rich’s slapping. He probably couldn’t tell I was blushing except that if I’d looked down I know I would have seen how red my neck and upper chest were.

“Why don’t you go ahead and put your top back on them? I think I proved I’m not disgusted or anything, but if Rich were to come down...”

“He’d see my boobs too, daddy and he wouldn’t care. He’s just not that into girls yet, I think. But it feels so ... I dunno, naughty ... being topless. And so ... liberating! I think I might even stop wearing bras,” I laughed, knowing I was pushing dad but this time, not to be mean. Just to get the point across that it was too late now for him to change his mind.

Something else happened to me when I realized I didn’t HAVE to be mean to dad. I realized he was just as normal as me with all the doubts, the insecurities he has, just like me. I kind of wished at that moment, he was mom.

Then we could be doing this together. Instead, only I had to be pleasing to him. He could be as mean and disrespectful to me as he wanted. I also knew he wouldn’t be.

“I’m going upstairs, daddy. Do you want me to get you anything before I go?”

“Did you talk to Rich about this afternoon?” The hope in dad’s voice was tangible.

“Sorry, daddy. I forgot. But I’ll talk to him now. I want to see if he even notices I’m topless,” I giggled.

“I don’t know where you got the strength to do what you did, Erin. I know I’d just die if I was in your shoes,” dad said quietly.

“Thanks, daddy,” I said and gave him a really hard hug so he could feel my nipples through his shirt.

When Rich opened his door he did a double take and looked around me for my bikini top. It was still downstairs where I’d left it.

My little black bikini bottom was all I had on between being completely naked in the hall in the middle of the day with dad right downstairs. I jiggled my boobs for Rich and smiled.

“What are you doing, you stupid slut! Dad could come up here for any reason!” He tried to make me hurry into his room so he could close his door. I wasn’t to be hurried this time. I crawled slowly, sure that Rich would appreciate the joke once he knew.

“You’re really not pulling my leg,” Rich asked again a few minutes later while I kneeled at his feet, cupping his balls and licking his dick like a popsicle. I’d discarded my bikini bottoms without being told, while I was explaining why it wasn’t bad even if I’d been caught by dad in the hall.

I’d led with my news that dad had agreed that it would be okay for me to walk around topless or even nude if ‘I’ wanted and that meant if Rich wanted me to. While Rich was still processing that incredible revelation, I moved onto my confession. After settling to my knees in the Present position.

“I only had to tell a little white lie one time, but it was to protect you,” I admitted. “I told dad I’d talked to you and you hardly even noticed I was wearing a bikini. I told him you didn’t care even though I know you do. I’m sorry if I messed up, Sir. How can I make it up to you?” I asked, hoping against hope that he wouldn’t want to spank my privates again.

The whole area down there was red and puffy except the small part still covered by pubes. It’s why I couldn’t get naked for dad. That and it had been hard enough taking my top off.

I couldn’t imagine what it’d be like if Rich ever told me I HAD to get naked when dad was around and pretend to enjoy it like I had with my top. I knew I’d do it for Rich and I thought I’d just do it without hesitation or thinking too much but it WOULD be a big deal. My privates were just that. Private. It seems like a bigger deal to me, to show pubes over nipples. Maybe it’s because guys have nipples too?

“What do you think your punishment for lying should be, slut?” Rich asked, surprising me. He was supposed to set the punishments, not me, because I could say something silly like stand in a corner or something.

I don’t know if he asked because he thought that my answer would be funny or if he was really interested, not that I could imagine a punishment other than a spanking anyway. I’d had three or maybe just two, but I remembered each vividly.

“Can it not be a spanking just this once, Sir? My bottom and privates are really red and sore, still,” I begged. I wouldn’t refuse being spanked either place, but they were both already clearly spanked and dad would just know something was up if my bottom was even redder than what he’d seen.

“Slut punishments can be anything. It’s not ALWAYS a spanking, just usually. I think it’d be a good idea to do something else. Something to demonstrate that you don’t have to associate punishments with spankings because sometimes you’ll be spanked for being a good slut. Sometimes you’ll be required to do things that are boring or humiliating or just plain nasty. But we’ll work up to that last one. Right now I want you to give me a suggestion how you could be punished that doesn’t involve spanking, slut.”

“I could do something nice for you then?” I asked, trying to clarify what he meant by boring. It seemed everything was humiliating me already. “I mean I could rub your feet or your shoulders or something, couldn’t I? Maybe I could rub my boobs across your back for like five minutes nonstop? It’d make me horny but it’d get boring real fast?”

“Nah. But I like the way you’re thinking. Tell you what. Tell me everything that happened with dad, from the beginning while you lick my cock like a lollipop. I don’t want to cum too fast but I promised to fuck you if you got dad to agree to let you be naked.”

And that’s how I got to be lopping on Rich’s penis without giving him oral sex, when he really started making continuous sex noises.

It seemed his favorite spot to have me lick was under the ridge where the shaft meets the crown. It felt funny on my tongue too, but was just making me hornier and hornier.

I hadn’t masturbated in three days and only that recently because I’d played with myself before Rich had told me I couldn’t do that without permission anymore. I’d meant to do it anyway, but at first I’d been too busy or too tired then lately, I kind of wanted him to tell me to before I did. I can’t explain it but getting Rich’s approval was gaining popularity in my thoughts.

When Rich came, he kept hissing at me to ‘take it’, ‘take it’, after he grabbed himself and started pumping his semen onto my face. He got it everywhere! I had it over the bridge of my nose, on my forehead, on my cheeks and even up my nose. The only place it didn’t go was in my mouth. It was so thick it just stayed where it landed for the longest time.

Rich was directing his semen with one hand on his penis while frantically searching around his bed with his other hand. Then he stopped searching and wiped his finally finished dick on my hair, adding some drops there too. I shuddered. He said he wasn’t going to do nasty punishments till later.

“Go to your room and get your phone, slut,” he ordered the moment he could speak again.

I risked a pause and just stared at him. Dad had incredibly said I could be naked, but I’m sure he didn’t mean naked AND covered in Rich’s sperm.

“Hurry up, slut, before it starts melting! I want you to see what you look like!”

I could FEEL what it looked like. I didn’t need to see it too. Rich had come a lot! But Rich had ordered me and I had to do it. I stood, got to the door and cracked it open before hurrying down the hall to my room, grabbing my phone and hurrying back. All without being caught by dad. It was exhilarating, not so much humiliating at all.

I didn’t think about the fact that I was supposed to crawl but Rich wasn’t mad because he’d told me to hurry. His pictures of me turned into a whole photoshoot, where I adopted silly poses and made funny faces, all while his sperm dribbled down my face, neck and onto my boobs. He even had me lift a boob and put my own nipple in my mouth, as if licking stray semen off myself.

A couple times I wondered to myself why I wasn’t mortified that my brother was taking pictures of me playing with his spooge and making faces that caused us both to crack up, but then I decided it was all in fun and since it was just me and Rich I didn’t need to feel weird about it.

That changed a little when Rich picked up a sharpie and wrote ‘worthless whore’ on my chest.

At first I couldn’t see what he was writing, so I pushed my chest out to make it easier for him. When he was done, he took a picture, me smiling hugely for the camera, until he showed me. My smiling giggles faded like water going down a drain.

“Is ... that ... what you really ... think of me, Sir? I ... I thought you loved me,” I felt crushed that Rich could proclaim that in large writing on my body.

“Of course I love you, slut! What’s that got to do with anything? It’s just demeaning.”

“You wrote that I’m worthless and a whore,” I repeated back to him.

“What’s your point? Hold on, let me rephrase that by asking questions. First, what is a whore?”

“You know what it is, Sir and I’m not one!” I said hotly.

“I didn’t ask if you thought I knew, I asked you to define the word whore, slut.”

“It’s a streetwalker. A hooker. A prostitute, Sir. I know what one is too! Please take it off.”

“Hold on a minute. You’re repeating different words that mean whore. A whore is a trader. Sometimes an entrepreneur and sometimes they work for someone. You’re trading training for time with mom. That makes you a trader but I wrote whore because it’s way more demeaning and you need to encourage me to demean you, not get all upset.”

“So you didn’t mean it, Sir,” I asked with hope in my voice, not even considering the other word.

“Of course I meant it, slut. It’s all about your perception of the word. You think about it negatively but it’s a compliment! You’re a beautiful whore!”

“I am?” I asked, looking into his eyes and seeing that he was telling the truth. He really meant I was beautiful even though he called me the most degrading thing I could ever imagine being called. “Then why didn’t you write that instead of worthless? Do you think I’m worthless too?”

I was still really upset even though Rich had taken the sting out of being a whore. I WAS trading so he was right. I was acting like a whore. I even had semen on my face and body to prove it.

But Rich was my rock, my lifeline so I wouldn’t get pulled under by all the sexy, naughty, painful and sometimes disgusting things I would eventually have to demonstrate for Mr. Johnson. I needed him to keep me focused, not to really start thinking of me as worthless.

“What is worthless, slut” Rich cut into my thoughts.

“Good for nothing. Useless. A waste of space,” I said dejectedly. “I’m not!” I said but it came out sounding like a question.

“It’s two words made into one, slut. Worth and less. But how would you have reacted if I’d written priceless? Price and worth mean the same.”

That stopped me in my tracks. He was right. They did mean the same. I’d just never before looked at it that way.

“But one means no value and the other means untold value, Sir,” I reminded him, feeling better already despite myself.

“That’s the secret, slut. Have you ever heard a guy tell a girl at school she’s a worthless whore?”

“Well no, but it’s not hard to imagine it. Guys can be jerks, Sir”

“So imagine your Asian friend Amy standing naked in front of a guy and he calls her a worthless whore. Do you think that’d mean he wouldn’t fuck her?”

“Two things, Sir. First, she’d kick him in the teeth with her ninja skills. Secondly, Amy is about the hottest girl in school,” I replied. Even I was attracted to her s little bit and I’m not even gay.

“So you can’t imagine that? You’re telling me it couldn’t happen.” Rich was making a statement, not asking a real question, so I just nodded slightly, wondering where he was going with this.

“Yet you’ve heard her call me an asshole. I know you have. Don’t deny it.”

“Okay, but what’s that got to do with anything? It’s not like calling a girl a whore or worthless.”

“Yes it is. I’m proud of the fact she thinks I’m an asshole. That means I have power over her. And I’ve called her a worthless whore to her face, a few times before.”

Rich shrugged like it was no big deal even though it is. He’s still alive!

“When? How ... I want details!” I remembered the Sir part but Rich was already replying before I could say it.

“Not important, slut. What’s important is that Amy knows she’s a worthless whore in the way I meant it. And I’m an asshole in the way she meant it. We have a mutual dislike for each other but that doesn’t stop us...” Rich suddenly clamped his mouth shut and after a slight pause, continued, “Anyway, you ARE a worthless whore and you can look at it anyway you want. A whore that’s never fucked for money is worthless too. Yet it’s still humiliating and I know it. That’s why I wrote it.”

He said it doesn’t stop us ... what!? What had Amy and Rich been doing together at all? There were two years between them. I’d told her time and time again that Rich was my dumb little brother who can’t even tie his own shoes even though that was a lie - I knew he could but I liked the visual back then. Not so much now.

“Please tell me, Sir?” I begged, hugging my boobs together with my forearms as if offering them in compensation for telling me. I was no longer angry or sad. I was intrigued.

“What part of NOT IMPORTANT are you finding difficult to grasp, slut? Knock knock!” He said that as he rapped the top of my head with his knuckles. It hurt and made me feel stupid at the same time.

“Sorry, Sir,” I said sheepishly.

Rich clearly knew what was best for me so I’d accept his decision. I couldn’t help but keep playing the first part of that statement over and over in my head, though. I almost missed what Rich said next because of it.

Had Amy and Rich had a confrontation that Amy had never told me about? No, that wasn’t possible. If she could tell me about only doing anal sex and still was claiming to be a virgin otherwise, she would have told me about karate chopping Rich.

“Get it, slut!” Rich said in frustration, which made me quickly rewind and realize he’d told me to pick up the sharpie. I quickly grabbed it from where he’d set it down and held it out to him.

“Hellooooo, slut. I put it there. I could have picked it up myself. Are you purposefully acting stupid right now?” He asked. I’d been so off balance since seeing worthless whore written on my chest that I couldn’t even deny his words. All I could do was blush even more.

I pulled my hand with the sharpie back.

“What are you, slut?” He asked after a pause.

I bit my lip and answered him. I knew he was doing the same thing as he’d done before when he’d asked the same question.

“I’m a worthless whore, Sir,” I said, trying hard to own the words. It still wasn’t easy. Rich smiled but shook his head sadly. Still, his dick noticeably firmed up again.

“Nice try, slut, but you know what you are. I just want to hear you say it again.

I looked at him blankly for a couple of seconds, racking my brain to think of what I’d called myself lately. Horny? Had I told him that? I didn’t think so. Stupid? That’s not as bad as being a worthless whore, but I’d already said that. I just knew it had to be something else.

“Slut, Sir?” I tried again.

“Good girl. That’s right!” Rich seemed pretty happy to hear me label myself a slut for him as much as when I’d said I was a worthless whore.

It was like it didn’t mean the same thing when he said it. It was way more humiliating to call myself that for him, but his dick lengthened more. It was almost standing straight out in front of him now, so that made it bearable. I was beginning to really get horny just from knowing what I was doing was turning him on.

“What do we call mom, now?” He asked while I was still wondering what to do with the sharpie.

“Cunt, Sir,” I said hesitantly, mostly because even though it was most likely the answer he was looking for I still didn’t like saying the word. I know Rich noticed. Mom was a cunt - the lowest form of female. Was that what I was practicing to be? I felt like maybe I am a cunt too. If the shoe fits, right?

“Well done, slut,” Rich said, making the corners of my mouth rise into a small smile. It never got old hearing praise from Rich even as he was degrading me and making me feel like dirt under his shoe.