The Family Feud
Chapter Nine
“I'm
Easy....Easy like Sunday Morning.....”
The old
Lionel Richie song was playing on his alarm clock, as she walked in.
He was of course lost in a deep sleep.
“CH-RISSSSS!!
WAKE UP BOY!!” his sister emptied an entire bucket of cold
water on him directly in his bed....”Wakey Wakey, it's time to
Bakey Bakey”
Chris was shocked awake, it seems no matter
how many times she's done that the last few days, he hasn't gotten
used to it.
“Good thing mom made you take your mattress
out of here, it'd get mildewed if we have to keep doing this...”
Jamie smiled like an innocent angel, despite her dumping water on her
brother. Helping her mom with the ‘tests’ last night, and
Cathy Griffin’s acceptance of this strange arrangement had made
her decide to loosen up a little and have some fun with her brother’s
predicament. She still felt a little hesitant to boss her dad around,
but her brother was a pushover.
“The tile is cold”
Chris whined.
“Yes,
Chris...Tile is supposed to be cold....and it's wet, so this is where
you are supposed to get up. You and Dad have a big day off scheduled.
It is nice and sunny out there in the backyard, don't worry the women
of the house are going to make their own food today, and we’ve
got it all planned out for you.”
Chris smirked “Jamie,
you really are enjoy this?” as he groggily sat up.
Jamie
responded without hesitation “What? getting your fat ass up in
the morning? No, I could be doing my own thing.”
“No
not that, being Mom's Pet”
“Pet? You are the one
that is the pet...speaking of which, where is your leash? Put it on
yourself nice and snug.”
Chris was begrudgingly getting
to his feet and reaching for his leash. His makeup from last night
smudged, the mascara running down his face and the lipstick made him
look a little bit like a clown. He had slept naked, and without a
pillow on the tile floor in his bedroom.
“No not like
that, I mean I know me and Dad are on the bottom. I just mean like a
Teacher's Pet, the good girl, who does everything right, the brown
noser.” he said as he cinched his leash around his balls. He
handed it to her absent mindedly as if they'd be doing this for
years.
“You know Chris, you probably should watch your
mouth to the girl who is holding your leash, it's not nice to call me
a brown noser” Urfff, he moaned as she jerked the leash hard
“Especially, when if I wanted I could probably make you a
literal brown noser!”. She wasn't sure how she'd make him a
literal brown noser exactly, but given the situation, she just
figured she'd let his imagination run with that one as she led him
downstairs by his leash while he walked behind her like a good,
submissive older brother.
“Good Morning Jamie” her
Mom greeted her, without a word to her son. “I see you brought
Tweedle Dum, I've got Tweedle Dee here”. Bill was struggling
through naked sit ups in the living room.
“Check it out,
Bill's got a webcam...I discovered it last night, wonder what the
guys on his message board would think if they saw IceMAN was really
IceBoy and our bitch?” she laughed, imagining her posting some
humiliating pictures of the two of them.
Bill didn’t
even want to think about his online reputation. He was cramping from
the sit ups, and the thought of the online laughter from the people
he traded internet arguments with, only made it worse.
“Lawl”
Jamie spoke phonetically the text-speak for “Laugh out
loud”.
“Let's tie their leashes together....they
can do some jumping jacks, while we make our own breakfast this
morning.See that guys? We aren't all bad, you don't have to cook. I
love you boys, but your cooking sucks. I'd like one slightly less
burnt omelet this morning.If you are really good, you can have what
is left over, and your regular portion of scrambled eggs. How is
that?”
Chris answered “Thank you, Ma'am”
but Bill only murmured. He had a fresh gag in, duct taped over his
mouth.
“Oh Jamie, I thought I mentioned to have Chris
bring his sock down here, I want to gag him like his father.”
Wendy told her son to
get the sock, when he asked which one she pointed out “You know
the one...” he did indeed, he did indeed.
When he came
back, he was carrying a very stiff, long tube sock. “Is that
what I think it is?” Jamie winced.
“Come in the
center of the living room, and tell your sister and me, and your
worthless father, what that is, Chris.”
“It is my
sock, ma'am”
“A special sock?” Wendy
asked.
“Yes Ma'am.”
“Is it your
girlfriend?” Wendy teased.
“No Ma'am, I don't have
a girlfriend.”
“I know Chris, tell me what you do
with that sock?” Wendy sounded slightly annoyed.
“I
jack off into it, Ma'am”
“Even though you were
told not too as part of you and your father's conditioning?”
“I
guess I forgot ma'am”. Chris said. He seemed to rely on the
fact people thought he was stupid, to get away with flagrantly
violating the rules or maybe he really was that stupid.
“You
know...that is one of the missing ingredients here, I was reading in
one of Oprah's books...which as you both know Oprah is superior to
all men, right boys?” they both nodded. Wendy knew they both
hated her show and had mocked her weight and advice in the past. She
liked to see if they would flip-flop their opinion and they
had.
“She said if you want something, you have to wish
for it. You have to affirm it. You have to say it out loud. You have
to start to think it. So we are going to have a little question and
answer session, and you are going to be as gracious and thankful of
us for this, as you know how Chris.”
Wendy was adding to
the affirmations she had begun a few days earlier. “Anytime you
say you don't know why something is, and it is clear you just didn't
bother to think, I am going to give you a spanking. Now, put the sock
up to your nose and let's begin, then it will be your father's turn,
we can ungag him then”
Wendy proceeded to ask
introspective questions to Chris that really made him think about why
they had been doing this the past few days and what they were
learning about personal responsibility. Each time Chris answered with
a “I dunno” or just repeated back the question in
different words, his mom gave him a blistering swat on the ass with
her hair brush which she now carried with her like a gun slinger
holsters a six shooter.
The phone rang, it was Gerald one of
his friends calling. Jamie answered and said “It’s one of
Chris’s friends calling to see if they can have a play date”.
Gerald hadn’t said ‘play date’ but it sounded more
humiliating.
“Just tell him Chris is grounded.” Wendy wanted to proceed.
“No, I don’t think so” Jamie said with just a hint of cruelty. “Chris hop on over here, and tell him you are grounded and can’t play today.”
Chris started to walk over and she stopped him, holding her hand over the phone. “That isn’t hopping. Hop like a bunny, c’mon”
It was hilarious watching Chris’s belly, moobs, and other flubber bounce, along with the leash hanging from around his flaccid cock as he tried to hop over to the phone. He looked so defeated.
“Hello Gerald? I
am grounded.”
There was a pause while his friend asked
him something on the other end of the line.
“No, they have me hopping around here today, doing a bunch of stuff.”
Wendy and Jamie almost couldn’t contain their laughter at how casually Chris had said that.
“Yeah man, It may
be a while before we can hang. Stay cool.” He hung up the phone
and was directed to hop back to where he was before the
interruption.
Wendy kept questioning him using her
affirmations about his attitude, his weight and his choices.
Eventually he stopped relying on his crutch, and it became obvious if
pushed Chris could answer a question with an intelligent
response.
“Why are you and your father, not the men of
the house?”
“Because we are out of shape wimps,
who weren't doing what needed to be done, so you two stepped up and
me and Dad are grateful for showing us the error of our ways,
Ma'am”
“Do you mind being naked in front of me and
your sister?”
“Yes ma'am, it is embarrassing,
because you both laugh, but at least I know my pecker is a little
bigger than dads.”
WHAM – A corrective swat “Care
to rephrase that? I wasn't asking you to compare pecker sizes, you
both have such modest little dicks, that the difference is barely
noticeable.”
“Oh um...No Ma'am, I am glad you keep
me and my father naked, it's fun”
WHAM – A
corrective swat “Care to rephrase THAT answer? This isn't
supposed to be fun to you, this is supposed to teach you something,
what is it?”
“Oh yes...teach us, to control our
urges, to appreciate the privileges we have, like wearing what we
want, when we want, if I get clothes again, I will make sure not to
wear the same dirty ones over and over. I'll fold them up and keep
them neat, like I do my school clothes, Ma'am”.
“And
why do you fold up and put away your school clothes, when for your
entire life, you acted like you couldn't remember? Was it just that
you could always remember, but didn't want too?”
“Yes
Ma'am...” and on and on and on it went,, where Chris was
affirming his place in the pecking order of the house beneath his
mom, beneath his sister, next to his father as a lazy, lump who
half-assed everything and how good it was that despite the cruel
mocking, and discipline, he was really understanding it was tough
love to improve him.
When it was his father's turn, Chris had
to hold open his mouth, and stuff the sweaty sock that he had been
cumming into for months into his mouth. It had a stiffness to it,
which almost gagged him, before his sister sealed his mouth with duct
tape.
It was now Bill's turn to talk. Wendy ripped his duct
tape off and he spit out some old scrap of dirty underwear he had
thrown on the floor before this all began, that she had padded his
mouth with earlier.
“Pick that up bill, hold it directly
under your nose”
“But it has got spit on it”
“Say
But again to me, and that is where it's going next.” Wendy
warned with a sincerity that made Bill assume she meant up his butt.
He held it under his nose without further question.
When she
began the affirmation with Bill, his arms behind his back, standing
in an “Attention” position, chest out, butt cheeks
clenched, and leash dangling, he still had a sort of limpness to him.
Like he was not quite giving it his all or was fully invested.
As
she asked him more questions similar to the ones, she asked his Son,
she noticed that subconsciously he seemed to be straightening his
back, no longer pivoting on one foot to rest his weight. The
questions were making him think.
Unlike his son, whose crutch
was just to play dumb. A myth Chris had just dispelled that when
threatened with the back of the hairbrush on his most tender parts,
he was inclined to think about why he was doing things and be able to
answer.
Bill's problem was not accepting responsibility for
his shortcomings. “Well that is just how I am” or “This
is just how I raised” or “Well, I don't know what you
want?”
To which Wendy would answer (After the requisite
attention getting swat to the front or back) “You don't have
to know what I want. You just have to be a responsible man who does
what he has to do...that is what YOU should want...you wouldn't be in
this predicament if you didn't slack through life.”
“I
didn't make these rules, you did...”
WHAM – A
corrective swat “That is true, but that is because your own
actions warranted them. This is like the criminal blaming the jailer.
You did the crime, you are doing the time”
“Yes
Mistress”
WHAM – A corrective swat “Mistress?
I am a Mistress now?”
“I mean Ma'am...Ma'am”
WHAM
– A corrective swat “Did you ever cheat on me? Have a
mistress”
“No
Ma'am...Mistress is just what you call a female Domme..”
WHAM
– A corrective swat “Did I tell you to call me a female
Domme?”
“No Ma'am, I just thought...”
WHAM
– A corrective swat “You barely have a thought for years,
and this is what you think about? Names to call me?”
“I
didn't mean anything by it Ma'am, it was an accident”
WHAM
– A corrective swat “Was it an accident, you hired
Jamie's friends to take dirty pictures, across what appears to
multiple sessions and different disgusting looking locations?”
“Yes
Ma'am, it was”
WHAM – A corrective swat “No,
an accident is something you can't control, that was just bad
judgment. You CHOSE to do that.”
“Yes Ma'am, you
are right”
WHAM – A corrective swat “Damn
straight I am, now did you have sex with any of those girls?”
“No
Ma'am, never. They were under 18”
WHAM – A
corrective swat “Oh so you would if they were over 18?”
“No
Ma'am, that is not what I meant....
WHAM – A
corrective swat “So why did you think it was okay to take naked
pictures of your daughter's friends?”
“Um...they
OFFERED for the...”
WHAM – A corrective swat “You
control your camera, you control your wallet, you control your
libido, it doesn't matter what a teenager offers you, they aren't
supposed to have the judgment to make decisions like that...Jamie of
course excluded from that, do you know why Jamie is your
superior?”
“Yes ma'am, because you said she
is?”
WHAM – A corrective swat “You aren't
getting it. This is all about the girls who offered themselves to
poor old innocent Bill, and meanie Wendy for putting you in this
situation. I am running out of places on you to swat! I am going to
have to move up to your tummy and your back.” She said doing
just that with her brush.
“It is taking a while to drill
into your head, that the only person to place blame for what Bill
does, is on Bill. The only place to place blame for what happens to
Bill because of what Bill does, is on Bill...”
She made
Bill repeat that several times, She ended his affirmations with him
thanking Wendy and Jamie for keeping him on the straight and narrow
and not putting up with any of his bullshit.
Then Wendy tied
her husband son's leashes together about a foot apart and had them do
jumping jacks to 80s music on the radio while her and her daughter
ate and paid little attention. At first Bill and Chris had a tough
time getting in synch but they soon discovered that they needed to
keep the same pace or they would fall over.
The Cardio was
really already having some good effect on them. They were not panting
and heaving so much at the end anymore!
After they got washed
up and their morning gag removed they were fed (even a few bite of
Wendy’s perfect omelet with their regular bland breakfast). It
was now time for Wendy to tell them how the day off was going to
go.
“Life is about choices, boys...so you have to make
one, together...You are going to tan outside, it's a nice hot
day...you'll be out there for a least four hours, so I'd suggest
sunscreen but you boys haven't proven you have as good a judgment as
the women of the house. You will need to decide.”
“You
can either apply the sunscreen to yourself, we'll stand right here
and make sure you lotion yourself up completely, and don't spend too
much time on your little cocks. Then you will go outside in the lawn
chairs in the backyard naked. Just as you are leashed to one
another....tiny cock to tiny cock....it's fenced in, so there is only
a slight chance someone may be mowing their lawn and look over and
see you...” they groaned.
“Or you can apply it to
one another, you've got to take your time and make sure you get every
little nook and cranny, but I am sure considering I now know who was
taking my bath lotion and what you were doing with it, you both are
no strangers to lubing errr lotioning up....” Wendy let the
barb sink in. She had speculated that they must have been doing that
for years, but never really thought about it until she got this power
over them. “If you apply it to each other though, you'll get
to wear bathing suits and don't have to have your peckers
leashed....it just won't work with the bathing suits.”
They
did not hesitate, the option to wear bathing suits sounded fine.
However, neither father nor son had really come into contact with
each other physically other than a brushing of some arm fat
accidentally while exercising. Having their cocks leashed together
with a yard distance, gave them enough personal space that they
really had never experienced how creepy lotioning up would be.
Wendy
sent them to get towels, and untied their leashes. They started with
the suntan lotion in the front room. Naturally on their backs, it was
fairly boring, Wendy sighed as if this was not entertaining “Don't
stick to the backs all day boys, you are going to have to get it all
over your butts....let's go their next” she said in a bored
tone.
Then she walked over to the radio switched it to the R&B
Channel “Let Me in... and Let's Begin.... With Love”
the deep somber sexy voice of Barry White came over the airwaves.
Jamie giggled “Cree-eepy” but it definitely added to how
difficult it was for the two men to put aside their homophobia and
touch each other.
Interestingly, to the girls the song
actually didn't seem to humiliate them. They could not keep straight
faces any more. It stopped seeming so serious, and they had stupid
grins on their face. Wendy could tell they weren't being sexy or
seductive, more mechanical in how they applied the lotion to each
other, but it would do for now, she thought.
“Are you
not forgetting some part?” Wendy smiled looking at their dicks,
neither had chosen to lube it.
“Won't the bathing suits
cover it?” ...”Ma'am?” Bill asked.
“Oh
yes...but let's be sure you got every part...go ahead and finish,
I'll go go get them.”
Bill was surprised she had not
sent them to fetch it, she had for everything else. Until he looked
up.
Wendy had the digital camera/webcam from his computer, and
Bill had his son's flaccid cock in his hand.
“A little
insurance, Bill...you know....I am starting to like how these USB
drives work...” she put one into the computer to fetch the
files.
“You aren't going to let us have bathing
suits?...Ma'am” Chris and Bill both asked.
It was
interesting, Wendy thought to herself. How the evolution of power
exchange was working. A few weeks ago it would have been no they
wouldn't even go outside and get a tan. Now they are wondering if
they will be permitted to wear something. It's not even a question,
that they are going to follow the orders for them, of course they
know they are going outside. They accept that. Wendy was processing
in her mind, that it seemed they had turned a corner in corrective
“husbandry” which was her new term for keeping her man in
line.
“Oh are you trying to say I'd go back on my word?
That sounds more like something you would do right?”
“Yes
ma'am, you are right...we aren't trustworthy...” they admitted
with heads held down in shame.
“Don't imply I wasn't
going to keep my word, or there really won't be any bathing suits,
but since you've been such good boys...Jamie, if you'd bring them,
please?”
It was two extra small thong bottoms and bikini
tops. “Guess what we found in the garage? Some of your father's
props from his photo-shoot crated up in a box, almost like your
father would not want anyone finding his dirty laundry...and these
are dirty. Still smell like sweaty cheerleader pussy, and no Chris,
don't sniff; take my word for it.”
That day was fairly
amusing to the ladies. They ended up taking several pictures of the
Taylor boys, and there were a few times the men begged to get back
inside. They begged at the glass door that it looked like rain,
although the Taylor girls thought they were more worried someone may
turn on their sprinklers and see them.
The privacy fence was
tall enough that unless someone purposely looked in through one of
the knots in the wood, or was on their roof, they probably wouldn’t
be seen. The girls had a clear conscience about the guys spending the
day outside in bikinis in the backyard with only Rosco to keep them
company.
When they finally did get let inside, the ladies
decided they liked them so much in those old clothes, they'd have
them dress and pose in other lingerie and ladies panties. After all,
they didn't deserve men's clothes.