What I’m Thankful For

By Aldric

Copyright 2015 by Aldric Pietar@spamex.com, all rights reserved
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This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It contains depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do not save this story.
 
Comments may be made to Pietar@spamex.com
 
This story depicts minors in unusual conditions that may include unprotected, unsafe sex or extreme humiliation. Obviously, this does not describe real life and should not be taken as such. In the real world, behaviors as described in the story are not acceptable, tolerated, or legal. The reader should never confuse the difference between fiction and real life. This story is fictional.

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Since my mom died six years ago, it’s been just my dad, my brother Peter, and me. We did something for Thanksgiving every year, but since my dad is a terrible cook and I learned from him, it wasn’t always much. Sometimes we even had frozen dinners, other times takeout.
 
But this year is different. We have a huge turkey with all the fixings, thanks to my Aunt Carol, even after Peter nearly ruined that. And not only Aunt Carol and her kids, but my dad’s other sister, Ann, and her kids are here.
 
I guess there’s four things I’m thankful for this year. First is that Thanksgiving wasn’t ruined. Let me explain—
 
Last week my dad announced that his sisters were coming for the weekend, and he had a huge turkey. Twenty-eight pounds! He put it in the deepfreeze in the basement. Two days ago, he called from work and told Peter to take it out and put it in the sink so it could thaw before he went to school. Well, if you knew Peter you would have known that was stupid of my father to expect it to happen. Since my mom died Peter has been out of control, but my dad never really disciplines him much. For example, last month he got grounded. Now in my opinion, grounding for an evening is hardly a suitable punishment for calling me F-face (only he used THE word, not just F). Especially when his grounding started after dinner, on a school night, and he was still allowed to watch TV that night.
 
Anyway, back to two days ago. Peter had just gotten out of bed even though it was almost time to catch the bus to school and he was only half-dressed. Of course he told dad that I made him late, which I didn’t. I hate having to wake him up. His room stinks (and so does he most of the time). And the awful mess on his sheets—he thinks I don’t know what it is but I do. Anyway, he told me he was awake so I left. As usual I had to go back in there three times before he actually got up. I’d pull the sheets off him, but I did that once and god, what I saw! It was so disgusting I almost puked. Thirteen year old boys should NOT sleep naked when they rely on their twelve year old sister to wake them up!
 
Anyway, my dad worked late that night like always and didn’t notice it wasn’t in the sink when he got home. The next day he called again to tell Peter to put it in the fridge in the space he’d cleaned out. Of course, rather than tell dad he forgot about it, he just said, “Sure dad.” And then he went to school with the turkey still in the deep freeze!
 
When he got home, he knew he needed to thaw it quickly, so he waited until I was busy with my homework and then took it back out on the patio and put it in the sun! Since we live in the valley, it was like 90 degrees outside and over a hundred on the patio even though it was the day before thanksgiving.
 
When my dad got home he had pizza for dinner and as we were eating he asked what that was that Tiger had. Tiger’s our dog. We looked outside and Tiger had a big section of turkey in his mouth. Tiger had been chowing on it as it thawed and the outside inch or two had already been eaten. Thanksgiving was ruined, all because of Peter.
 
But for punishment, all Peter had to do was call Aunt Carol and tell her he accidently ruined the turkey. Aunt Carol sounded angry and I could hear her say over the phone that nobody would have a thawed turkey now. But when she got there she had a twenty-seven pound thawed turkey in a cooler that her Butcher (and boyfriend) Sam had given her. So that’s the first thing I’m thankful for—Thanksgiving was saved!
 
And that brings me to the second thing I’m thankful for—all my cousins are here to share the weekend with us! Aunt Carol was with her two kids, Marcia, who’s the same age as Peter, thirteen, and Greg, who’s fourteen. And Aunt Ann, with Bobby and Cindy, who are the same age as Peter and I, thirteen and twelve.
 
It’s amazing how much we all look like each other. We almost never get to see them except in pictures. But when I compare Greg and Bobby to Peter, the likeness ends with looks. My boy cousins are polite, clean (they don’t smell like a locker room) and strong. They help out. They don’t call me or their sister’s names or tease us except in fun. But Peter treats his girl cousins just like he treats me. Until their brothers stepped in and made him stop, something I wish my dad would do once in a while. Greg even stopped Peter from picking on me!
 
The third thing I’m thankful for I shouldn’t be but I am. I’m a little ashamed of it, but after putting up with Peter for so long it just feels right. Peter thought he could get away with ignoring our aunts, but he found out that they didn’t forget what they told him to do. Everyone was supposed to be helping, and we all had jobs. But Peter wasn’t interested. He tried to get Greg and Bobby to go out back and kick the soccer ball around with him, and when they told him to help them set up the folding tables like he was supposed to he told them to F-off (again, the real word was used) and went out to the backyard by himself.
 
Aunt Ann heard it and went straight to my dad. “Mike, you have to discipline that boy!” I heard here say. She said it so loud I think the neighbors on both sides heard it too. “You let him run wild; you ignore it when he insults Jan; and he ignore his chores and Jan tells me you do nothing about it.”
 
My dad tried to tell her that he did punish Peter, and that I was just too sensitive. “Jan takes offensive every time he teases her a little bit. And besides, she hasn’t complained to me about Peter’s behavior lately so he must be starting to grow up.”
 
I want to shout that I didn’t complain because he didn’t do anything even if I did, but Aunt Ann said it for me. That was when Aunt Carol stepped up and said, “If you won’t do anything, I will!”
 
Aunt Carol went out and ordered Peter to come to the house. And do you know what Peter said? He used the F-word again and told her she wasn’t his mother. Dad heard it and only said, “Peter, that’s rude. Get up here and finish helping your cousins.”
 
Peter just kicked the ball to back fence and ran after it. He didn’t kick it back. And dad showed his true colors. “He misses his mom so much. Give him a minute and he’ll calm down and help.”
 
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Aunt Carol yelled at her brother. “Greg, come out here please,” she yelled into the house. And Aunt Ann called for Bobby to come out too.
 
When my two cousins got there, their moms told them to get Peter and bring him to her. My wonderful cousins looked pleased and ran to the back of the yard after Peter.
 
Peter is not big or strong for his age and they had no problem pulling him up to the back porch and delivering him to Aunt Carol.
 
“How long has it been since you’ve had a shower?” Aunt Carol asked him. Only she didn’t ask, she yelled it.
 
“That’s none of your f-ing business,” he said. Again, he used the real word. And Aunt Carol reached out and slapped him! He was stunned for a moment, but then turned to run. Only she caught him. Aunt Carol is a nurse and she had no trouble turning Peter around and slapping him again. “You are going to take a shower. And Greg and Bobby are going to watch and make sure you clean yourself properly. If they can’t handle you then Aunt Ann and I will!”
 
Peter struggled to escape her grasp but couldn’t. “That’s gay, there’s no way they are going to see me in the shower. And you can’t make me do anything I don’t want to do. Tell them dad!”
 
“Uh, Peter, I think you should listen to your aunts,” my dad said.
 
“Yes, Peter, you should have,” Aunt Carol said. “Your dad knows firsthand that Ann and I don’t put up with smelly little boys who don’t know how to wash themselves. And we both know how to properly punish bratty little boys who are too big for their britches.”
 
And then the most amazing thing happened. While Aunt Carol held him, Aunt Ann undid his belt and pulled his shorts down to his ankles, followed by his boxers. Right there on the back porch my big brother was essentially naked.
 
“Jan, quit staring and hand me that spatula there,” Aunt Ann said to me. She wanted the metal one hanging from the barbeque grill. I took it to her. As I stepped back, I saw that Marcia and Cindy had come out to watch. As my aunts bent my brother over the rail and raised his backside up in the air I heard Bobby laugh.  But Aunt Ann heard it too.
 
“You think this is funny?” she said to him.
 
“No mom,” he said immediately. “I’m sorry for laughing.”
 
“And that is how properly disciplined boys act,” Carol said to my dad.
 
Peter was crying by the third swat, and I don’t blame him. Aunt Ann wasn’t going easy on him at all. By the tenth one he was begging her to stop, proclaiming that he was sorry and would never be bad again. He got twenty in all.
 
Aunt Carol stood him up and pushed him towards the kitchen. As he bent to grab his shorts and boxers she surprised me even more. “Don’t bother, you don’t need them. You are going to the shower and the boys are going to supervise. If you are rude or fail to do anything they say you’ll be right back out here. Now get!” And she emphasized it with a bare-handed smack to his already bright red backside.
 
I could see that Marcia and Cindy could barely keep from laughing as my nearly naked brother was led past them by Greg and Bobby. Aunt Ann picked up his discarded clothing and told me to put them in the laundry hamper.
 
“And then I want you to go to his room remove the door. He won’t need it until he can behave and keep it clean.”
 
“Girls, you two can help her,” Aunt Carol said. “You both know how to remove a door.”
 
As we were working on the door hinge pins we heard him yell something that sounded like “Asshole” to either Greg or Bobby, followed a moment later by him apologizing as they latterly dragged him back to the kitchen. As we carried his door to the basement we could hear him again crying out on the back porch.
 
“He sure cries a lot,” Marcia said. “Greg wouldn’t make a sound over just getting twenty.”
 
“Neither would Bobby,” Cindy added.
 
“It’s the first time he’s ever been spanked,” I said to them.
 
“Our brothers used to get it a lot, but they learned. And our mom’s aren’t always around to give it to them, so most of them time we do it.”
 
“You spank your brothers?” I asked, floored by even the suggestion that a girl could spank her brother.
 
“On the bare, wherever we are, regardless of who is around,” Marcia said. “You’d be surprised at how slow they learn. But they do learn. Greg and Bobby are known throughout each of our neighborhoods as the most polite boys around. And since all of their friends have seen them get spanked, they understand why they are nice and they don’t get teased as much. It took Greg seven months to earn a door to his room again after mom and I removed it.
 
That led to the third thing I was thankful for—Aunt Carol announced that since my dad wouldn’t do it that I was to take over disciplining Peter. And if he fought back, it would be up to my dad to punish him first and me second. And my Aunts both said they’d come and remind my dad how who took care of him when he was a boy.
 
Peter was brought down by Greg and Bobby, still naked. “Why can’t I get dressed first,” he said. I saw his chin quivering.
 
“First you apologize to all those you harmed,” Greg said to him. “Then you have corner time. Then you finish the chores you were assigned. And then, finally, you can request permission to get dressed.”
 
The boys held his arms so that he couldn’t cover up. I don’t know if it was because they were afraid he’d run or if it was just to embarrass him. I’d seen his thing before, even hard. While I’d like to see some of the boys I knew at school in a similar condition, seeing my brother wasn’t all that exciting.
 
Once all of his chores were done, it was me he had to come and ask permission to get dressed from. Marcia whispered in my ear that I didn’t have to give it yet, and I was pretty sure she wanted him to have to remain naked. But I didn’t, it was kind of gross. So I did the next best thing I could think of. “Do you still have some briefs?” I asked him.
 
“I think so,” he said. I could see the fear in his face and knew I’d hit a nerve.
 
“Then put on a pair and nothing else until tomorrow,” I said.to him. His whole face turned red.
 
“But what if they don’t fit?”
 
“Then you’ll have to do without them until I change my mind. And don’t think you can hang out in your room the rest of the day. Now that your chores are done you can go out and play soccer with Greg and Bobby.”
 
He looked utterly ridiculous and he knew it. The briefs were too small to keep his testicles inside so they hung out each side and his penis was pressed against the front so hard you could tell that he was circumcised. But I made him go out and play anyway and both Marcia and Cindy congratulated me.
 
Finally, the fourth thing I am thankful for occurred this morning. The turkey was in the oven, the table was set, and everything was spotless except Peter. He was dressed in some shorts and a shirt that I knew he had worn at least three times but without them going into the wash. And I would know since doing laundry was one of my chores.
 
“You’re not wearing that to dinner,” I said to him. “Go wash up and put on that nice shirt that Aunt Carol got you for Christmas and the pants that Aunt Ann got you. And black socks. And comb your hair too.”
 
“I’m not a goody-goody like Greg or Bobby and I’ll wear what I want,” he said.
 
I was embarrassed for my aunts, who I saw standing behind him. And then I remembered what had happened yesterday. “Take the shorts and whatever underwear you have on and get over my knee,” I said to him.
 
“What?” he said. “You must be crazy if you think that is going to happen. Have you sipping the wine or something?”
 
Dad was right there and said nothing. He started to walk away when Aunt Carol said, “Mike, come here!”
 
Dad hesitated and then walked over to her. Peter turned around to see what was going on behind him.
 
“Take your belt off,” Aunt Carol said.
 
“We’re not kids anymore,” dad said. “This isn’t right.”
 
“I told you last night that you had to support Jan and raise Peter just the way you were raised. Now since we are adults, I’ll do it in your room. But it is going to happen. I can still force you just as easily as I could when you were eleven.”
 
“And if needed, I’ll help,” Aunt Ann said.
 
My dad blushed but headed for his room, with my aunts right behind him. A few minutes later we could all hear the sound of a belt hitting skin. Ten minutes later my dad came out. He had tear tracks down his cheeks.
 
“Peter, get undressed,” he said. “For disobeying your sister you’re getting spanked first by me and then you’ll get her punishment too.”
 
“Dad, you can’t do this,” Peter said. “Don’t let them ruin things. They don’t live here, they don’t know how good we have it.”
 
“You have it good,” Dad said. “Too good. Get undressed or I’ll undress you myself.”
 
Peter looked around the room. Our aunts were near each exit, and Greg, Marcia, Cindy and Bobby were around him. He started shaking. “Please dad, can’t we go to my room?”
 
“No, not until you’re an adult. Last chance. Get undressed or it will be with the belt instead of my hand.”
 
Peter began to cry like a little boy. But he dropped his shorts. He still had the same tiny briefs on that I had him wear the night before.
 
“What the hell, you didn’t even put on clean underpants this morning?” dad asked him.  “Maybe I have been too easy with you. That ends now. Take them off and put them in the dirty clothes hamper. And don’t even think about running, I guarantee you I will find and catch you. Or worse yet, one of my sisters will.”
 
Peter was openly crying as he came back to the living room, naked as the day he was born. “Please dad, don’t listen to them. I’ll be good, I promise. I’ll…”
 
“I made all those promises too, and broke every one of them, just like you will. So come here and get over my knee.”
 
I wouldn’t know a good spanking from a bad one, but both of my aunts seemed pleased when he said he was done. “If Jan tells you to do something and I have to come and enforce it you’ll always get a punishment from me and then the one she was going to give you anyway,” he said.
 
“But right now, it’s time to carve the turkey, so Peter will just have to wait until dinner is over,” Aunt Carol said.
 
I didn’t want to eat with a naked brother, so I told him to go put on the clothes I had told him to wear earlier, and that he could take them off again after dinner.
 
And that’s the last thing I’m thankful for this year. After dinner my naked brother will get a spanking. From me. And then he’ll help clean up the kitchen and wash dishes. And after that, well, our friends from next door, Oliver and Millicent, are coming over. And I know that Peter has a tiny crush on Millicent even know he’s a year older than she is. So maybe when he asks if he can get dressed I’ll just say ‘no, not tonight.”
 
 


 

   
   
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