What I’m Thankful For
By Aldric
Copyright 2015 by Aldric Pietar@spamex.com,
all rights reserved
*
* * * *
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.
* * * * *
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.”
(End of File)