Chapter 5

“Ugh, can we not do this around your sister’s friend?” Rachel asked politely. I expected her to say something snarky or tell her son to watch his tone. She seemed only mildly annoyed with him.

“When we all agreed to this, I do not remember vacation days being negotiated. Chop-chop,” Brodie clapped his hands. Put his hands behind his head. He didn’t appear ashamed of how he was talking to his mother. He grinned and seemed to feel his attitude was justified.

“Brodie, you asshole,” Anna looked a little betrayed, and she couldn’t look directly at me.

“I am not the one named ANAL,” Brodie teased his sister about the alliteration of her name sounding like the word anal.

“Brodie, can we not talk about this while my friend is over, Can’t we just keep things the way they are?” Anna backed down. She seemed a little nervous about what Brodie might say next. I didn’t want to intrude on any family drama between them.

“Hey, you are both open books, right? It was fine when Susan stopped by for an hour or two, but you expect to take a break for entire weekends?”

Brodie’s question came across as an implied threat. There was no malice in his voice, but I felt like he was suggesting he was about to tell me something that Rachel and Anna didn’t want me to know.

“Brodie has a point. I warned you that the day you did not feel like submission, your brother would get on your nerves and push your buttons. You assured me that you could be mature and that you wanted to learn submission. Have you changed your mind?” Rachel asked while still on the ground.

Anna began to blush a little. Brodie interrupted before Anna could respond to remind his mother, “You said that the cunt can’t just quit anytime she feels like it. She has to serve until her hair grows back.”

“I can’t make someone serve if they do not want to do it, Brodie,” Rachel assured him somberly.

“So, that was another broken promise? How many is that, MOM?” Brodie asked. He was implying that Anna was going back on a commitment that she had made.

“I do not want to quit, okay? I’ll make your food. SIR. Okay?” Anna complained and looked miserable. She walked carefully into the kitchen.

“You do not have to call your brother, Sir. We established that,” Rachel corrected her. Rachel wasn’t angry, but strangely she seemed to have sided with her son over Anna.

“I can call you a cunt, but you can’t call me Sir,” Brodie mentioned it like it was an unfair double-standard. I wanted to tell him HE shouldn’t be able to call his sister a cunt. I felt like I shouldn’t intrude on the obvious family squabble.

“Yes, we agreed to that, Brodie,” his mother agreed with him that was how things were. It was obvious to me that Brodie thought he should be addressed as Sir.

“Stand up, Cunt.” Brodie insisted. He was looking right at his mother. This was so awkward. If this was one of their tear-down jokes, I didn’t get it. Anna was already getting out the things to prepare breakfast.

Rachel looked down as if she was centering herself and trying not to take the bait and get angry. She stood up without using her hands – just the power of her feet to rise up off the ground.

“May I at least explain to our house guest the rules for submissives?” Rachel’s tone was somewhat submissive – but I’d describe it more as patient, with a trace of annoyance in her tone.

“No, please let me, Sir?” Anna sounded like she genuinely meant what she said.

“Buttering me up! I like it. Okay,” Brodie flopped down on the couch and said she could explain it to me.

“About six months ago, I asked my mom if I could shave my head and wear a collar like she does,” Anna started to explain, but Brodie cut her off and told her to rewind to before that.

“Brodie, will you let your sister tell the story?” Rachel asked politely.

“High protocol,” he replied. There was an audible silence as the two girls stopped and looked straight ahead.

“My first appointment is at 10 am. How do you want us?” she asked her son with a look of acceptance on her face. I was confused, but Anna and her mother were not. They appeared uncomfortable, but ready to listen to him.

“In the first position, right there,” Brodie pointed to a spot in the living room in front of him.

“I need to make breakfast,” Anna reminded her brother as she waddle-hobbled to the living room. She seemed reluctant to participate in whatever was happening. She was clearly having trouble keeping the butt plug in, and she took her time crossing to where her mother stood in the living room.

“You can make breakfast after you finish your explanation.”

Rachel and her daughter lined up with their feet apart, placed their hands behind their heads, stuck their tits out, and waited.

“Go ahead; we’re waiting,” Brodie sneered. I did not realize it at the time, but he was imitating a famous line from the movie Caddyshack when Ted Knight’s character delivers the line.

“Brodie, when you get like this, you are being a brat, Sir,” his sister observed respectfully. I noticed that despite her refusal to call her brother Sir earlier – she did it anyway. It seemed like a peace offering or an olive branch on her part.

“When you add Sir to an insult, it doesn’t change it,” Brodie observed.

“Your sister is just trying to...” Rachel tried to intervene, but her son interrupted and asked her if it was high protocol.

“No, Talking out of turn is not, but...” Rachel tried to explain that she had a good reason to intervene.

“But?” Brodie cut her off mid-sentence. Anna’s mom struck me as a strong-willed person who was nobody’s doormat. She didn’t turn into a spineless jellyfish just then when she allowed Brodie to silence her. Rachel exuded a quiet sort of strength and shut her mouth.

“May I please just explain the rules to Anna’s guest?” she waited until Brodie seemed to give her a non-verbal cue that she could speak.

“Permission granted,” Brodie scoffed and seemed annoyed.

Rachel kept her face straight ahead. “I’ve always been a submissive all of my life. I like to do things for others. However, that does not mean a doormat. It does not mean that I am a slave that can be bought and sold either,” she explained to me patiently.

Anna’s mom explained that most people who practice dominance and submission keep it in a nice little box under their bed. “They are happy to pull out their toys and play Master and Slave for a party or a session. Once you live it for a while, it’s really not about parties and sessions. I live my submission – most of the time in a relaxed, low protocol. It’s always present, but it’s not something I flaunt or advertise.”

I assumed that was how good Christians were. They had faith in their beliefs, but they didn’t need to advertise and proselytize.

Brodie said that I knew all of this and told her to skip to the non-boring parts.

I politely admitted that I had no idea what was going on. I wanted to hear it all.

I was intrigued – willing to listen and learn.

“That’s understandable. It’s probably going to sound a little crazy at first, but we have some house rules in the house. My daughter and I are practicing submissives, and we are usually in low protocol. It’s just casual. We still have a few expectations, but Anna and I can even wear clothes at home. We usually do not want to, but we can.”

I was struggling to understand, and appreciated Rachel’s candor and concern that she was throwing too many ideas at me all at once.

“It was sort of understood while you were here that we would continue that practice, but my son has other ideas. We aren’t in trouble, and this isn’t something that’s being forced on us. We agreed to let him change the protocol. I just thought we had an understanding that he wouldn’t do that while you are here. It’s another reason it’s always best to ensure everyone is on the same page about the rules of engagement. Again, I am sorry if this is in any way uncomfortable.”

She waited for me to acknowledge before continuing. I told her that it was fine – which it was. I was simply intrigued (but still confused) now.

“I am trying to just tell you just the relevant parts but let me give you a quick backstory. I’ve always lived by certain rules. In the house, I always performed all of the household chores. I enjoy serving and doing for others. The kids were free to help, but it was never expected.”

“I can assure you that I do not do anything sexual with my kids, though. I still perform all the tasks that normal mothers do, like ensuring the kids go to school and have a roof over their heads. Most of the time, things are casual like they have been when you come over. As they got older, we had an unspoken understanding that I’d do what they told me as long as I didn’t have a client. It was simple stuff, like they can tell me to make them food or bring them a drink. It’s really not that big of a deal.”

It might not be a big deal to Rachel and her kids, but it was alien to see this kind of behavior and relationship to me.

“Tell her about high protocol,” Brodie insisted that his mother cut to the chase.

It seemed like Rachel was just about to do that when he interrupted.

She paused, centered herself, and continued explaining patiently.

“If I do not have appointments, One of the things that we decided together to avoid confusion about when someone is joking around and add some clarity to our lives was high protocol. The default around the house is low protocol. That’s how we’ve behaved when you have been here. High protocol is really not that scary. It’s sort of a reminder to us to be on our best behavior and watch our tone. It’s a way for Brodie to tell us that he wants our complete attention, as well.”

“I can be placed in high protocol at home if I am not doing anything and do not have any appointments. I do not mind it at all. I enjoy being placed in submissive positions. When I am like that, I am not permitted to talk back, and I have additional requirements.”

I was dumbfounded. Rachel continued her explanation in the same patient, calm, tone.

“I am not my son or daughter’s slave. I consented to this arrangement after we discussed it. Six months ago, Anna asked if she could shave her head and obey the same rules that I do.”

Rachel kept her eyes straight ahead while she told me the story about her daughter’s decision.

“I warned Anna that the service was not glamorous or fun. We all sat down as a family and talked about expectations and what each of us wanted and needed. We talked about ways things could be better at the house. I’ve never been about traditional roles. I hope this isn’t freaking you out, but I want you to know that Anna and I consented to this.”