Chapter 9

My brother expected me to explicitly agree out loud to his terms. I was reluctant, perhaps because it was embarrassing to actually hear myself say the words.

“Sure what, slut?” Speak in full sentences or I’ll gag you so you don’t speak at all, you silly bitch,” Rich said.

There it was again. Rich sounding like he really believes I’m a silly bitch. “Sir,” I added.

“Say the whole thing. Tell me you’re my slut. Make me believe it so I can really help you. If I am going to invest my time in making it feel real then you can as well.”

Rich had a point, and it was just words. I didn’t have to actually mean them. What did I have to lose by calling myself a slut except maybe blowing my chance to spend extra time with mom? Honestly, I wasn’t even sure it was only about that, anymore. My curiosity was piqued about the routine and I wanted to see Mr. J and mom’s face when I blew their minds.

My shoulders slumped but only in my head. My actual shoulders stayed high and back so my boobs would be presented like I’d learned. My nips were hard too, which only made the view I was presenting, more believable.

I didn’t know it’d be so hard to say the very thing two different people had called me for days. The thing I didn’t believe but had grown so accustomed to hearing, that it no longer bothered me. I took a breath.

“I’m your slut, Sir.”

There, I’d said it. But Rich wasn’t convinced. I couldn’t believe it when Rich said he wanted to hear me say he could do anything he felt he needed to, to prepare me in the next two weeks. He said he needed me to say the words so he could hear them from my own mouth.

If he’d gagged me like he’d threatened, he certainly wouldn’t be able to hear me vocalize my agreement!

“You’re the boss of me, Sir. I’ll be your little slut as long as it takes, and you can make me do whatever you need,” I said. It wasn’t so hard calling myself a slut the second time.

I instantly regretted saying what I had, though. What if Rich told me to assume one of the positions at school? I knew I’d never be able to do that! But Rich had been pretty cool about this whole thing so far, so I felt I was being silly by even worrying about it.

I was still immediately glad I had never treated him like I’d seen Mary Hammond treat her little brother. But then her little brother was an annoying twelve year old that was always pranking her and getting her in trouble with their mom.

Rich was different. He’d been looking out for me for days. To me, that proved it. I knew I could trust that Rich had my back.

“You need to commit yourself to the role of being my slut if you are going to take me seriously when I make corrections. If you can’t make me believe that you are taking this seriously, Jim definitely won’t believe it.”

Rich sold me with that last point. I had done so much better when I stopped thinking and just let myself by led by the commands I was given.

“I need ground rules, though, Sir. For example, while we’re at school, we have to pretend we don’t know each other. You’ll still be my little brother but I won’t ever answer to you there, okay?”

“No. The rule is that you do what I tell you all the time. You’ll have to trust me not to get you in trouble. If something I tell you to does get you in trouble, we’ll change the rule, and you can just be Erin at school again. But if you try to get in trouble so you can blame me, then I’m going to dad.”

“Dad can’t know about this!” I hissed, suddenly scared of what dad would do if he found out.

“Dad’s oblivious. You heard what mom said. He made her choose between being a slut and living here. But she’d been a slut for what? EIGHT years, first? We’ll be gone to college by then. Or I will be, anyway. I don’t see you as the college type.”

“So Dad won’t know?” I needed clarification. My apprehension was building and it felt like I was signing over a blank check to my little brother to do anything he wanted. I just needed to hear there were going to be some boundaries.

Rich didn’t seem to think he needed to state them explicitly. The look on his face suggested that he was offended that I didn’t just trust him.

“What do you think, slut? What would dad do if he found out you’re my slut? I’m your BROTHER. He’d send one of us off to live with crazy Aunt Tracey. Can you imagine living in a trailer with five other girls? Actually, I guess that’s not so bad, but I won’t tell dad if you don’t make me.”

“And you’ll keep protecting me like you did when Mr. J wanted to make me owe him time?”

I did need an advocate if I wanted to keep seeing Mom. It had to be a male, and Rich HAD proven himself to be on my side. I even felt guilty that I’d suspected Rich might take advantage of the situation like Mary Hammond’s little brother would do. He had no reason to do that. We didn’t have that kind of antagonistic relationship.

“As long as you’re a good girl and do as you’re told. I might even be persuaded to let you keep talking to boys.”

“Huh? Why wouldn’t you?” I asked, confused by how we’d jumped to boys from dad.

“You’re MY slut. You’ll get whatever you need from me, of course. The only thing guys have that girls really want is dick. If I want you to have strange dick, I’ll point you at a guy of my choosing.”

“Oh. Um, okay,” I said, understanding at last. I didn’t WANT dick, so not getting it wouldn’t be a problem for me. But Rich was wrong about one thing. I liked talking to boys because they made me feel special. I could go a couple of weeks not talking to one though.

“What about punishments? Remember the first time we saw mom, how she had all those whip marks on her? How do you feel about that?” He asked casually as if asking about the weather.

“You are NOT going to actually whip me like that, are you?” I’ve been known to cry when I get a paper cut. I couldn’t stand being whipped with an actual whip! “Sir, I mean’,” I added to show that I was serious.

“So, no fun whippings. Got it,” he said as if that might have been a thing to discuss.

Then I remembered what mom had said about Mr. J and how she’d made it sound like just another day at the office.

“Anything else that’s a hard limit?” He asked.

I didn’t know there was any other kind of limit. What would a soft limit even mean?

I really didn’t know. What sort of things could be considered hard limits when the possibilities were endless, and I’d never been subjected to any of them? I knew I didn’t want to be whipped though, that’s for sure.

“Tuna without mayonnaise is a hard limit?” I smirked. I didn’t know what he wanted me to say.

“I thought you wanted to take this seriously. You asked me for boundaries, and now you are joking around when I try to give you some?”

“Sorry Sir, I really don’t know exactly what you mean when you say hard limits. Are there soft limits too? Can’t I just tell you as we go?”

“No you can’t, slut! Damn you’re stupid! It’s like traffic lights when you’re driving. A soft limit is like an amber light and a hard limit is like a red light means nothing but stop.”

“I don’t have a driver’s license, Sir. And I’m not dumb. I just don’t know what I don’t know, is all!”

I might have said I wasn’t dumb, but I sure felt it. Being called dumb by my dumb brother who was proving to be smarter than I’d ever imagined, was a real blow though. I wanted him to keep calling me creative and enthusiastic and dedicated, even tough. Yet I was close to tears by just being called dumb.

“Okay, point taken,” Rich said in a softer voice. “Since you don’t know what a hard limit will be until you face it, I’ll tell you. If I tell you to do something and you say RED or AMBER or if you’re gagged and you slap your hand against your head or if you’re tied and gagged, and you start blinking your eyes real fast, I’ll put on the breaks. I’ll make it so you can talk and you can specify what you mean. If it’s red, we don’t continue, period. If it’s amber, we’ll figure out what the problem is. Fair?”

“What do you mean, stop, period?” I asked, a little concerned that it meant what I thought it did.

“It means, done. Over. Finished. No more visiting with mom. We’ll be done and I’ll explain to Jim that you just couldn’t cut it. But you’ll still be my sister, and I’ll still love you.”

I almost choked up at that. Rich loved me. I mean I know he does and I love him too but it’s just something we don’t say out loud in our family. I spent a moment embracing the words I love you before focusing on the other part.

The part where if I said the word red, spending time with mom would become a pipe dream once more. I hadn’t done everything I’d done just to throw it away! Why would Rich even suggest I had that power?

Then a thought struck. Suddenly everything sounded easy. I could always put a stop to whatever Rich was doing by just by saying the word amber. We’d talk about it, and he’d learn not to do whatever the thing is, anymore.

“Okay, that sounds good. But I’m never going to say red, Sir.”

“That’s the spirit, slut! Then it’s decided. But no second chances. If the word red slips out of your mouth while you’re actively training, we’re done, so don’t fuck it up!”

“I won’t, Sir,” I said with a smile. I felt like a million dollars. Like nothing could stop me now.

“So tell me what happens if you say amber, slut?”

I confidently replied, “We stop what we’re doing and come to an agreement, Sir.”

“Are you going to assure me you’ll never say amber either?” Rich seemed like he expected me to claim that as well, but that was going to be my safe word to use when Rich started acting a little too big for his britches.

I WAS still his older sister, after all. Even though I’d agreed to be his naked slut, I didn’t have to let him treat me like dirt anymore. What I really wanted was to start testing the amber signal.

“I think we should start going through the red pages, Sir,” I suggested brightly, instead of answering his question.

I expected him to tell me he was happy I was being so enthusiastic about looking through the red pages after being so upset about them before.

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

“You don’t ignore a question from me, you disgusting life support system for a cunt! Answer my damned question, dipshit!”

I was rendered momentarily speechless by his instantly harsh words and attitude. It took me a couple seconds to remember to say amber.

“Amber! Amber, Amber, Amber!” I screeched. “You can’t call me that!” I insisted.

“What?” Rich looked honestly surprised that I’d used the signal so early.

“It’s demeaning to be called dipshit to my face, Sir, much less the other thing!”

“That’s not how amber works, dumbass! You said you understood! You use amber when something is physically hurting too much! Calling you names is nothing. It’s just part of being a dumb slut. I’m going to do my best to toughen you up and make you less sensitive. Jim’s going to call you more imaginative and degrading things that I could possibly dream up. Damn, what have I gotten myself into?” He asked rhetorically, shaking his head. “Fetch me the ruler, slut,” he added.

I blushed with embarrassment even more than I had from him calling me names. Did I feel stupid or what! What he’d said made total sense after he explained it.

I just wished he’d explained that part earlier so I didn’t look like the dumbass he’d called me. And now he was going to punish me before we even started doing anything constructive. The worst part was that I deserved it.

I didn’t hesitate though. Even as I was thinking what a fool I was, I was moving over to the dresser and getting him the ruler that he could just as easily have reached for himself.

“Spoon,” he said when he had the ruler in his hand and started swishing it menacingly in the air.

“You know I have to do this, right?” He asked.

He’d never asked when he’d swatted me while I was learning the first five positions. The only thing different was that I was about to be punished for being a dumbass, not for getting the position wrong. I was about to be actual-punished, not corrected in a supportive fashion by a little brother who wanted me to do well.

“I know, Sir,” I agreed, still not liking the idea in the least, but I was already in the Spoon position with my butt facing him.

I was tempted to try to talk him out of it, but I’d felt the smack of the ruler, and it wasn’t so bad. I’d just seem like a pathetic loser if I tried to wheedle my way out of something we both agreed I deserved.