Chapter 12

“I’d like to apologize to each of you because I underestimated your ability to understand things, and I snuck around and punished your sister behind your back,” I began with a heartfelt Mea Culpa and accepted responsibility for that.

“None of you are surprised when I say that your sister is a brat. She doesn’t appreciate the value of money, and she can be very lazy and vindictive. Heather, refresh our memory. Tell us some of the shitty things you’ve done recently?”

“I deleted your entire fantasy football team,” Heather began.

“Mid-season?” Steve was flummoxed that Heather did that. He knew how much I valued my bragging rights and enjoyed fantasy football. We used to talk about it all the time. I hadn’t thought much about this past week because I had been busy with more important things.

I pointed out that I had some all-stars and that she didn’t just delete my team – she traded them away to my biggest rivals. The guys who would rub it in online when they won the money that I had riding on the league.

The kids knew that was a shitty thing to do. It certainly wasn’t a criminal felony or a super big deal. I told them that and added, “It’s part of a pattern behavior. You have to take this with the dozens of other schemes and shenanigans that Heather pulls on a regular basis.”

Heather’s expression changed to a look approaching pride with a smirky little grin. I insisted that she tell them some of the other dirty deeds she had been up to.

“I borrowed money from dad without telling mom to pay my car notes. I would do the same thing to mom and borrow for the same thing.”

“What DID you use the money for?”

“Dildos and sex toys, vodka, frittered it away on silly things,” Heather admitted. She blushed a little. “I also got on dating apps and charged guys 200 bucks to go on a date with me.”

I didn’t expect her to admit that one to the kids, but it was a good example.

“You can make 200 dollars just going on a date?” Amanda seemed intrigued – like she might consider it.

“Yeah, if you fuck them,” Steve shrugged. The kids laughed.

“Steve isn’t kidding. Heather is a little whore, and she can’t control her impulses and perverted desires. That is why she wears the chastity belt. She is being taught to re-direct those efforts to more productive things and to be more considerate and polite to others. I needed you to understand that she is a lazy, selfish little twat.”

Amanda recoiled when I said the words, but the boys didn’t seem shocked that I had chosen those words.

“This is real talk, Amanda. I am not going to treat you like you are an idiot. If ANY of this makes you uncomfortable, I want you to tell me, and feel free to leave, and we can discuss it later.”

Amanda nodded that she was fine. I hadn’t had a conversation even remotely resembling this with my kids before. I was playing it all by ear, and I hoped that they would understand and possibly accept what I had in mind.

I was prepared for them to tell me that it was insane or that they were uncomfortable, and I’d address it.

“Heather knew that she needed to be punished, and she APPROACHED me about it CONSENSUALLY and asked me to punish her.”

The kids didn’t believe it. I felt that it may have been more convincing coming from Heather. I had her confirm what I said, and I think even then, they found that difficult to believe.

“Her and I worked out some rules, but I was unsure how you and your mother would react. I kept it from you. That was my mistake, and as I said earlier, I am sorry about that. I take responsibility for that decision. Heather was not the one in charge, and I was. You all saw me spank your sister earlier. I’d like to start by asking you how you felt about that?”

I started with Steve. “Right on,” he said. My son was a man of few words. I kind of expected that reaction.

“Are you going to spank us like that?” Amanda asked. It was just like Amanda to wonder how things impacted her. I assured her that corporal punishment wasn’t necessary for them and reminded them that Heather consented to it.

“Why would she do that?” Amanda asked. It was a great question, but I made Heather respond to it. Her little sister needed to hear it from her.

“I begged Dad to punish me because he is fair and has my best interests at heart. I know he is looking out for me. I asked total strangers to punish me because I feel like when I get disciplined, that makes me a little less bitchy, and I want to behave myself and not be such a rude twat. I really do, Amanda. Dad refused me when I initially asked him, so I started rubbing his nose in the fact that I was going off with random weirdos, and he said that I’d probably get kidnapped or worse.”

That was true. Amanda was a little shocked. Amanda’s follow-up question was why does she need to be SPANKED, though.

“I’ve asked total strangers to spank me because sometimes I enjoy it,” Heather admitted. The kids laughed at her outrageous statement. She blushed and continued to explain. “Dad makes sure that I am standing in the most uncomfortable and embarrassing position, spanks REALLY hard, and makes me answer questions and count. He makes it feel like an inquisition or something. It doesn’t have to be a spanking on my bottom, but I guess physical or mental pain makes me reflect on the bad things that I do and stings for a little while. It makes me not want to keep doing those rotten things.”

“Why can’t you just BE good?” Edgar asked quite simply. I had asked the very same question when this all began, and I told him that. I insisted that my daughter answer his question.

“I really try to be a better person, and I’ll be honest with you, Edgar, I kind of like being punished sometimes. I know that is weird, and it doesn’t make sense. I didn’t have an answer when Daddy asked me the same question a week ago. I think maybe it feels like justice is being done, or I deserve to be punished.”

“It’s because your subconscious feels guilty for the things you do and the dirty little thoughts you have, and it CRAVES discipline even though it can be uncomfortable. Your subconscious will even make you act out when you know you aren’t going to be punished. It’s an impossible cycle where you behave because you got punished, and then you know you need more discipline, so you stop behaving,” my wife told Heather.

Heather nodded that what she said sounded right. “I can’t really explain it. All I know is that last week before any of this happened, Daddy told me to go outside and wash the truck. I think I wanted to punish myself, so I pretended that he insisted I wear the skimpiest bikini I had. When mom told me I should change, I blamed Daddy for making me wear the outfit.”

I didn’t know that.

“I wanted to be in this situation, and it was frustrating. I started goading daddy and pushing his buttons and trying to make him mad, so he would punish me. He’s been doing it in private. I knew with you guys home, he wasn’t going to do anything. This morning without asking Daddy, I put on my bikini because I was going to punish myself.”

“How does it PUNISH you to wear that kick-ass bikini?” Steve asked.

“When I pop out of it, it’s humiliating when you guys laugh at me,” Heather pouted.

“You literally took off that dress and let your jugs hang out and then bent over to get spanked,” Steve found it hard to comprehend how the bikini could humiliate her if she was willing to do that.

“It’s extremely embarrassing, Steve, but you can read the rules Daddy, and I made,” she passed him the rules. “He’s the boss, and if he says I deserve a spanking, then that’s not negotiable.”

“If Dad tells you to strip completely naked, you will?” Amanda scrunched her nose in disgust.

“Yes,” Heather replied reluctantly. She blushed. I was glad that she didn’t seem defiant. I could tell that her sibling’s derisive comments truly were humiliating her. They could tell as well.

“Heather, turn around, spread your legs apart as wide as they will go, lift your skirt up over your back, and present your big fat ass to your brothers and sister,” I said. I wanted to demonstrate my authority. I assumed that the sooner they saw it, the sooner they would get over it.

As Heather got into position, Steve asked if he could run up and give her a big kick in the ass. “A cunt punt,” he said.

“No, you can’t hurt your sister,” I was emphatic on that point. I didn’t want them roughhousing with her or terrorizing her.

“What CAN we do then?” Amanda crossed her arms in front of her chest and sat back on the couch like she was metaphorically tuning out of the conversation. If she didn’t get anything out of this exchange, then what good was it to her?

“You can tease your sister by calling her names, just like you did this morning at breakfast. That was part of her punishment. It’s supposed to help deflate her massive ego. You can also tell her to bring you snacks, drinks, go fetch stuff around the house. You must never compliment her, say thank you, you’re welcome, or please. I know that we teach you to be polite, but in her case, I am trying to reinforce something to her that she is the lowest rung on the family totem pole – just above beloved family pet.”

“That should not be a problem,” Steve assured me that he could be incredibly rude. “I think I am going to like this, doofus,” he said to his sister. I saw Heather blush as she bowed her head and faced away from their couch.

“Maybe we can get a little bell, and ring it anytime we want room service,” Amanda joked playfully. I told her that might be arranged, and she laughed heartily.

“Can we tell her to play with us? Hang out and watch TV? Go bike riding?” Edgar asked politely.

I thought that was a good idea. I said that I’d have to come up with a schedule around Heather’s jobs and chores but that I could see giving each of them some 1:1 time with their sister. Steve laughed and declared emphatically that he wouldn’t need his time.

“Can we tell her to do silly stuff? Like stand on one foot or sing, I am a little tea-pot?” Amanda grinned wickedly.

“Go ahead,” I said.

“Heather,” Amanda addressed her sister loudly as if she was trying to get the attention of a robot servant. “Stand up on one foot and hop around like an idiot.”

Heather looked at me. I nodded, and she obediently stood straight up, lifted one leg, and then hopped around with a goofy expression. The kids laughed.

I couldn’t tell if Heather was having a good time and laughing at her own humiliation or intensely mortified by having to obey her little sister. All I knew was this seemed like harmless fun and a good way to tease Heather.

“Let me see you do 10 jumping jacks,” Steve added after the novelty of his older sister hopping around wore off.

Heather looked at me again and began to execute precision jumping jacks. She was a cheerleader in high school and very fit. I knew she could handle them. Her tits bounced in the maid costume as she performed for us like a clown.

“Heather,” Edgar took a turn giving his sister orders. “Turn around and show us your donkey-maker again!”

Heather glanced at me to see if that was okay. I could tell from the look on her face that she was nervously humiliated by that order- even though she had just shown her ass when I told her to do it.

“Is she going to check with you or mom before she does what we tell her?” Amanda looked annoyed by the fact that her older sister seemed to be checking with me first.

I hadn’t given a lot of thought to what the kids could and couldn’t do. I directed Heather to turn around and present her bum again to the kids as she had before. “You can’t beat on your sister, you can’t punish your sister, and by that, I mean spank her or make her hold a bar of soap in her mouth,” I said.

The kids laughed at the idea of Heather having her mouth washed out with a bar of soap. Their mom had threatened that before when they cussed but never followed through. I’d been washing her mouth out with soap and even sticking bars of soap in her ass this past week when she talked back like a smart-ass.

“However, as a general rule of thumb, any order that you see me give in the house is fair game, so yes, you can tell your sister to show you her butthole, her boobs, or any part of her body. If that’s really what you want to see ... all you have to do is ask. Obviously though, her twat is locked up tight, and if she is wearing a chastity belt, she can’t take it off to show you any more than you can see through the tiny holes.”

“Does that metal thing in your butt hurt?” Edgar asked his sister. He sounded sympathetic towards her situation when he asked.

It doesn’t hurt, but it is uncomfortable,” Heather’s voice sounded nervous. I’ve seen her handle three cocks like a pro in the glory hole, and she seemed to melt a little when she was talking to her little brother about her bare ass.

“Are you going to be mad at us when you are off punishment for making you do silly things?” Edgar asked. That was a great question, and it showed that he was thinking ahead.

“I asked Dad not to let me out of restriction, but even if he did, no, I won’t be mad at you, Edgar. I am glad you aren’t freaking out and accept me like this. I knew you guys would laugh at me, but I don’t want you to feel sorry for me, okay? Then you’ll let me get away with being a brat.”

“You won’t tell me snitches get stitches if I tattle on you?” Edgar asked quite seriously. I got the impression from the exchange that Heather frequently HAD told him that snitches got stitches in the past when he was thinking of telling his mother or me about something Heather had done.