Keeping the Womenfolk in Line Cumming of AgeChapter 7
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“I think mom really wants to jump your bones,” Becky joked before we were off her front porch. She was walking in front of me, and I was holding her leash. She was naked except for her chastity belt and dog collar. Becky didn’t even have shoes on.
It was a nice day, but it looked like it might rain later. I ignored her comment and asked her if she was allowed to talk.
“If I don’t, then it will make for a really boring two hours. If you want me to shut up, just stick something in my mouth, Sir,” Becky said with her usual sassy demeanor. I smacked her butt with the rod and told her that she could talk.
“I don’t know all the rules here. I am just asking what they are. I expect you to tell me if I am letting you do something you shouldn’t,” I insisted and jerked the leash a little bit. I looked at the list and told her that the first item was to feed the chickens.
“Oh great, you’ll love this one,” Becky led me towards the barn where the chicken coop was located. “My sister absolutely hates it. We normally have to do it together,” she laughed. “She’ll be happy you picked me first when she finds out. Why did you pick me anyway? I thought you liked her or something,” she asked.
I was reluctant to answer to Becky. I had chosen her precisely because I did favor Stacy, and I wanted to seem impartial. “I don’t like your sister like that. She is going to be my step-sister,” I shrugged.
“You saw us full-on making out in the living room, and we are blood relatives. I don’t think being her step-brother would stop the two of you,” she shrugged like my answer was unimportant. “Let me guess. You picked me because you wanted to seem impartial and not make it seem like you were playing favorites?” she asked.
I whipped her about the back of the knees and her thighs and reminded her to call me, Sir. My silence probably confirmed to her that she was right. I was surprised at how observant women were. My own mom was seldom home when I was little, and I never knew her to be particularly astute. These girls were quick on the uptake.
“Sorry, Sir,” Becky said as she brought me to the chicken wire fence attached to the barn. Inside was a chicken coop with about a dozen hens and a single rooster. “You see how all the girls have a single Rooster? That Rooster is your Dad. You don’t see any little roosters around there, do ya, Sir?” She smiled as she bent at the waist and picked up a bag of seed.
I didn’t see her point at first. She told me that my father was never going to let me play Rooster and to enjoy my weekend of power. She wasn’t being particularly snarky about her observation even though she was very blunt. “Mom is just missing having a guy in charge of her. There is a homeless guy at the gas station that she lets sniff her panties and boss her around sometimes. You are just a disciplinary substitute until your Dad and Joe gets back. You are way too nice to be a Rooster,” she said as she handed me the sack of chicken feed with a scoop inside the bag.
“Why do you think Joe isn’t nice, too?” I said as she opened the gate and walked inside. My brother wasn’t nice and he was often gruff and blunt. He probably would make an ogre of a task master. I followed her but I was the one holding her leash. I felt it was fine that she lead because she knew where to go and what she had to do. I still had the leash in case she decided to gallivant off. She laid down on the dirt in the coop and the chickens approached her excitedly.
“Pour the feed all over me, please, Sir,” Becky offered. “Mom told you the chores aren’t easy. This is just the first one. If this shocks you, then you are in for a real treat this afternoon. Do me a favor and snap some pictures. You can text them to mom and your dad to prove that I didn’t trick you into letting me have a leisurely morning,” she said. She told me I might as well send a few to Joe as well.
It was still early, and I usually might just be waking up on a lazy Saturday if I was back at our apartment.
The chicken feed consisted of dried barley, grains and occasional sesame seeds. I mostly poured it on her tits. “Joe is tough and strong. He seems like a natural leader and I am sure your Dad will put him in charge of us when he isn’t home. I think he will let you pour chicken feed on us and pull our hair but I doubt he is going to let you train us,” she snorted. She opened her mouth wide and told me to pour some on her face.
“Won’t it hurt if they peck your face,” I asked. I would have been frightened of the chicken’s pecking my eyes out or breaking my skin with their beaks.
“Yes, that is why we do it this way. Just don’t get it in my eyes please, Sir” Becky seemed relatively fearless. She could only mumble once the feed was in her mouth and that was fine with me. It was obvious Becky had done this many times before and expressed confidence. The look on Becky’s face reflected boredom and a desire to hurry this along. I wasn’t sure if that was just a brave face to make me feel like a nervous worry-wort or she really felt that way.
I asked if she cared about all the cum on her face. The seed was sticking to it, and the chickens were pecking at her face.
“Not a big deal, Suh,” she mumbled with her mouth open. Chickens were pecking at her and scratching. The Rooster approached and observed her. He seemed to be hesitant to use her as a feeding mat.
“Why did you race so hard with your sister to avoid having two condoms spilled on your face?” I asked.
“I didn’t want Stacy to win, Suh,” Stacy explained. The Rooster charged me, and I ran away from him. Becky giggled and her tits bounced every time she chuckled. The chickens were pecking her tits and tummy and it must have tickled.
When the Roster chased me Becky’s laughed changed from a playful giggle to a mocking chuckle at my cowardice. I ran away from the Rooster and locked myself out of their coop. I felt silly I went to the trouble of locking the gate. The Rooster couldn’t open it. I had already done it though so I pretended I meant to lock HER in with the Rooster.
“Like I said, the Rooster doesn’t like little Roosters around his scratch, Suh” Stacy waited on the ground. The Rooster pecked her tits, and I could tell it hurt when he ate off of her body. I felt like the pain was karmic justice.
“How does it feel to know that 1,000 boys at school would do just about anything to be able to lick food off of your body, but you are laying in the dirt and have to let chickens do it,” I asked from the safety of the other side of the wire fence. I’ve always heard chickens were cowards, but that Rooster had sharp talons and acted like a total bad-ass.
“How does it feel to know that 1,000 girls at school don’t even know your name and wouldn’t let you touch them with a ten-foot pole. The only reason I am is that I have to, Sir,” Becky asked sarcastically. I had only put a little chicken feed in her mouth, and most of it was gone. She had the power to hurt me while she was inside a chicken coop as a feeding tray for barnyard animals. I felt powerless.
“Why are you talking to me with so much disrespect?” I asked her.
“Simple. Respect is earned,” Becky held up a single finger to offer her first reason. “You are a little Rooster who has no idea what he is doing pretending you are a big Rooster,” Becky held up a second finger to offer an additional reason. “And because I am a fucking bitch who can’t help myself,” Becky brought down her first two fingers and stuck up her middle finger to shoot me a bird.
I waited for her to finish her chore before ordering her into the punishment position. Becky didn’t argue or refuse my order. I slapped her butt and made her count each one and thank me.
“This will go a lot easier if you behave yourself,” I said.
“One, thank you, Sir. What fun is there in doing things the easy way?” Becky struck me as a fickle, conceited girl who enjoyed being obstinate when it suited her. Even though she let me spank her, she was still in control, and she knew she could stand up anytime she wanted.
Becky stood a head taller than me and had at least twenty pounds on me. I was scrawny, and she was almost a full-grown adult. I felt like a bird trying to spank a Warhorse. She wasn’t fat at all, and everything on her body was proportionate. Becky had the bearing of a young Nordic Warrior-Queen, and I was the scrawny welp of a camp follower.
I was the one who was spanking her, though, and that was something.
“Earlier, you said you didn’t mind that I could see your asshole. You seemed like you were lying,” I observed as I slapped her ass again.
“Two, thank you, Sir,” Becky seemed to think it was quaint I was trying to give her an affirmation and played along. “You are going to look anyway. It will only make it more fun for you if I mind, won’t it? You like to be a peeping Tom, don’t you? I bet you came around to our window and watched me and my sister eat each other out last night when Mom tied us together?” she asked.
This was not how I wanted the affirmation to go. She was making me seem creepy. I had been caught twice peeping on them, so I probably AM creepy. The mental image of her and her sister eating each other’s sweet pussies was a provocative mental image. I imagined them tied on top of each other facing in opposite directions like they were in a 69.
I didn’t want to ask her any more questions. I spanked her a few more times hard on the ass.
“Look, I am sorry okay? I didn’t mean to be a cunt. I was born this way. Ask me your little affirmation questions, Sir,” Becky counted out the sixth swat and thanked me.
I didn’t like the little barb that she jabbed into her request by saying my questions were ‘little.’ “Why do you want me to give you an affirmation, then?” I asked her.
“I am bored, okay, Sir?” Becky complained and counted the swat. Then she corrected herself. “You are shy, and you seem to like to ask questions when you do affirmations. If you are really interested in getting to know me, then ask whatever you want, Sir,” she offered with a shrug like she didn’t care either way. She sounded less hostile when she made the offer, and I was genuinely flattered. I got the impression Becky thrived on attention even though she frequently said she didn’t want any.
“Why would you want me to get to know you?” I asked as I smacked her butt. I put a sweet sting on it and admired the jiggle of the pert ass. Her butt was already sore from the night before, and it was turning a lovely pink.
“I am a solid 9, and you are at best a 4,” Becky described me on physically a scale of 1-10 before counting the swat.” If we crossed paths at school, I would never have noticed you much less talked to you. If you tried to speak to me, I would blow you off. Your dad is marrying my mom. I know we are fucking weird. You may like us now, but the sooner you get to know the real us, the sooner our shit will sour to you. I just want to get that over with before I grow attached to any of you,” she said.
Her comment sounded gruff and yet just underneath the surface was a visible challenge to run us off before she could be hurt when we left her. I could tell that Becky had abandonment issues of some kind, but I wasn’t equipped to address them.
“My mom left us too,” I said as I stopped spanking her butt. “I didn’t want to get close to anyone either. If I did, then I’d give them a chance to hurt me. It is easy to close up and hide in your shell than it is to put yourself out there,” I said as I dropped my hand.
Becky wiggled her butt playfully and reminded me I had two more swats to deliver. I told her to stand up, and we could continue to the next chore. Becky looked disappointed. “I am not like you, and I am not afraid for you to leave Sir,” she said as she stood up and rubbed her butt a little. “I can just tell that you spanked an ass last night and had a little fun. I see it in your eyes that you think you are a Master now. You are going to be sorely disappointed when you don’t have all the attention after your Dad, and Joe gets home. You’ll probably get pissy and try to talk your dad into leaving,” Becky said as if it had happened before.
I read the next chore on the list and said it was time to feed the hogs. I told her that should make her feel at home and pointed to the word PIG I wrote on her tummy earlier. Becky offered me a wintry smirk like I got her with a quick insult.
She led me over to the pigpen and told me that this was one of her least favorite chores. There were only six pigs in the muddy pen. They looked eager to eat. There was a wooden bin next to the pigpen that contained their feed and other supplies for their care.
“Okay, for this one, I need your help again, Sir” Becky looked so cute when she gazed at me with her pretty blue eyes and bouncing, blonde pigtails as she climbed into the pen and got down on all fours. She looked up at me and opened her mouth wide. She told me to pour as big of a scoop of the feed from the sack into her mouth as I could. “My sister and I usually race. It makes the chores more interesting to compete with one another,” she told me. I used the scoop to fill her mouth with cornmeal and watched as she crawled to the trough briskly and spit into the trough.
At this rate, it would take thirty minutes to feed six pigs at the very least. I thought about what she said about the contest. I wasn’t going to join her, but I wanted to motivate her. I poured another load of the feed into her big mouth and told her to open wider. “You’ve got an enormous mouth. Almost as huge as your cunt,” I chuckled. Becky flicked her eyelids up dismissively, but I could tell that the insult stung her. I felt it was probably especially humiliating to hear it from someone like me because she thought she was better than me.
Becky groaned at my insult but opened her mouth wider for me to fill the trough a second time. On the third round, I decided to make it a contest. Her pretty knees and hands were already covered in mud and anything else sticking to the bottom of a pigpen. She spat the feed into the trough on the other side of the fence, and the pigs nearly knocked her over to get to it. I surmised Becky was expected to bring it all the way across the pig’s sty to make the chore more tedious.
“How many trips will it take to feed the pigs,” I asked her. She told me she didn’t know and waited for another load of cornmeal to be dumped into her mouth. “Drag your tits in the mud while you crawl and then race backwards to me in a crab position and hold your mouth open ten times. If you do then I’ll let you walk the rest of the trips across the pigpen,” I said.
Becky asked me what crab position was, and I had to describe it to her. She scrunched her nose like she wasn’t interested in my offer. I had done crab races in gym class. I told her that she was supposed to crawl in reverse by keeping her back perpendicular with the ground and only using the flat of her hands and her feet to move.
“Oh, is that all?” Becky shrugged and let me fill her mouth with pig feed. She dug her tits into the mud and then pushed herself hard across the pigpen to the trough. She asked me if this was what I wanted to see when she flipped backward into the crab position and returned to me. It was more than impressive to watch, and I told her she did well. I poured more feed into her mouth and made her race across a few more times. Once she did it three times, I told her to somersault all the way back. Becky rolled in the mud end over end a dozen times to make it back to me and let me fill her mouth with feed.
She looked strangely excited by the challenge and seemed to want me to come up with other humiliating ways for her to feed the pigs. I made her do cartwheels and slither across the mud like a snake. I told her to oink like a pig and wiggle her butt. It was disappointing when she finished those first ten rounds in no time flat.
She smiled and walked over to me. She opened her mouth triumphantly and let me fill it with pig feed. Then she walked it demurely to the pigs and spit in the trough. She looked pleased with herself that she won my contest, and I thought she was going to drag the entire thing out.
“I had better crawl just in case mom checks on us,” she told me. I felt like she went back down on all fours to crawl in the traditional way more out of habit than anything else. She had been energized by my dares but seemed strangely disappointed after she won. There was no challenge left to the exercise once she won. I made a mental note to evolve future challenges so that she had to keep doing them until the very end to receive her reward.
It took us almost thirty minutes for her to feed the hogs. I asked her how many she thought she would need to finish when we were almost done. “My sister and I usually get this done a lot faster because two mouths are better than one, Sir,” she said. She was sweaty and covered in wet mud and pig stink. “I probably have three more left,” she said.
“Fine, crab crawl the final three trips to and from the trough in less than two minutes, and I won’t make you lay face down in the mud for five minutes after you finish,” I said.
Becky’s hair was dirty and some of it was in her face after the pig-tails had come undone. I noticed her pearly white smile under all that muck and filth when I made the challenge. She crab crawled to and from either side of the pig trough and even though I didn’t time her I told her she barely made it.
“How long did it take, Sir?” she asked me enthusiastically.
“You almost failed! You made it by the crack of your ass,” I lied to her. I didn’t time it, but she didn’t know that. It was fun watching her scramble across the pigsty.
“Can I take a piss now, please, Sir?” she asked me sweetly. A lot of her defiance seemed to be gone now that she finished her second task.
“Yes, dig your hole,” I said.
“Can I get out of the pigsty first, Sir?” she asked me politely.
“Why? Don’t the pigs piss in there too?” I asked.
“Yes, they do, sir,” Becky answered me submissively. She bent at the waist and presented her ass to me while she burrowed a little hole with her hands.
“I notice you and your mom seldom bend with your knees,” I observed.
“Yes sir, sluts don’t bend at the knees unless we are squatting or sucking cock. We bend at the waist,” she wiggled her butt to illustrate how bending that way exposed her ass better. She turned around and squatted over the hole and started to piss in front of me.
“How do you poop through that tiny hole in the back of the chastity belt?” I asked.
Becky was much more experienced than me and she smiled at me like I was this bright-eyed, over-eager child full of questions. I probably seemed that way on some level but I was trying to act cool.
“I usually don’t. I try to hold it,” she said.
“Do you have to poop now?” I asked.
“I am not allowed to say that I go poop. I am only allowed to say that I need to take a shit, and yes, I do, but I am not going to beg you to allow me to do that, Sir,” she said.
“Why not? Are you afraid for me to watch you try to squeeze a tiny, cylinder-shaped turd through that little hole between your butt cheeks?” I giggled at her in the most mocking manner I could.
“No, sir, I am not afraid of anything,” Becky told me. “I bet you are one of those perverts who like watching a pretty girl take a shit, aren’t you? You would probably get turned on by it,” she laughed
Becky was an enigma to me. On the one hand, she looked so pretentious and had a very mature face. She could also be incredibly crass and even immature. Last night she joked about her sister farting like a choo-choo train. I imagined Stacy letting out a steam engine’s worth of farts when Becky made that joke.
“If you want to watch me squeeze cheese then give me the order to turn around and face my ass towards you and take a shit, Sir” Becky remained squatting even after the tiny trickle of golden pee flowing between her legs had stopped.
I told her to turn around and let me watch. She had a smirk on her face like she had me pegged and knew what kinds of kinks I liked. There was a small rumbling fart and then a perfectly cylindrical chocolate tube emerged from her pretty ass. She pushed it through the gap in the hole on the latex strap in her ass and let it drop into the hole in the mud.
I felt like I was watching an angel take a dump. She looked so pretty even covered in mud. Her lips were red even without lipstick and her eyes and hair gave her an innocent, cherubic quality even though she was often a whiny bitch. I have to admit it was fascinating and reminded me of watching chocolate ice cream be pumped out of a dispenser at a Dairy Queen.
“Why do they put that hole in the back like that anyway? Can’t you get fucked through it?” I asked Becky.
Her back was turned to me but I could picture the sour look on her face from the tone of her voice. “If your dick is small enough to push through that hole then you’ve got problems. That hole is for what you see me doing now and to attach butt plugs or inspect me,” she explained.
She told me that there were optional stainless steel buttplugs that attached to the back of the chastity belt. The way she described it, they looked kind of like spark plugs and were tapered. She told me the chastity belt her mom wore sometimes had two huge plugs inside, and they weren’t optional.
I was surprised my Father hadn’t made her wear it. I suppose it would be hard for Juliette to work and take a shit though if she had it on for the entire weekend.
Becky finished taking a dump and wiggled to snap off a little piece of poop from her ass and let it fall. Then she began to bury it.
“I suppose you are going to hassle me at school? Blackmail me that you are going to tell all my friends what I do on my farm on weekends and make me suck your cock whenever you want, Sir?” she asked sourly.
I had not even thought about how things would work at school now that I knew Stacy and Becky were such freaks. I was still grappling with the changes from last night and this morning. I definitely didn’t intend to do anything like that, and I told her that she was perfectly safe.
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