Girls Don't Need Modesty - 1950s Mental Hygiene film

[EddieDavidson]

Before I get into this - I want to thank the people that came up with the idea of Girls without modesty like Perseus. This is an homage to that concept in the form of a 1950s style documentary when women 'knew their place' and girls didn't need modesty. Women truly were responsible for the outside and inside of their home and if you don't believe me, you can easily find tons of real advertisements for push (non motor) lawn mowers for ladies back then.

Good luck trying to market to them the same way, today. 1950s is a perfect setting for a girls without modesty story.

Sometime ago I was inspired to write "Spanksgiving". I created this very elaborate backstory location called "Peach Valley". 1950s idealized Suburb with white split level ranch-houses, white picked fence, two car garages with plenty of driveway so you could pull your huge gas guzzling Buick with those extra shiny chrome covered fins into it.

It was the kind of place that Father's Know Best and they Left it to Beaver. I created a backstory for an amusement park set in an old confederate fort that never once saw military action. That didn't stop the scummy founders from inventing their own stories and marketing them. I created a youth organization for girls called the "Jezebelles" that institutionalized the concept of submissive daughters becoming submissive wives. The Gallant Patrol for guys on the other hand was designed around leisure time, and wearing fancy clothes with an impossibly complex organizational structure just so they could hand out fancy braids and ribbons while patting themselves on the back for "protecting the fort again today".

Meanwhile, the Jezebelles entertained guests in skimpy outfits, took out the trash, washed the laundry and served as cheap (Free labor).

i created a holiday. it was the day after Thanksgiving. I call it Spanksgiving but I also gave it a German name and based it on a real holiday that the founders adopted, corrupted and turned into a marketing gimmick to get butts in their park to watch wives willingly get spanked on stage in front of the entire community for the error of their ways.

Stepford wives? who needs mind control when you have peer pressure of all the other women trying to keep up appearances of who is the best wife with the best life? They call this concept "Domestic Bliss" or "Happy Housewife". You may have heard of the old Good Housekeeping magazine issuing guidance to young wives to wait for their man at the door with a scotch, lit cigar, the newspaper open to the sports page and then serve him a juicy steak in your best dress?

That was real, so I also made hundreds and hundreds of photos that I planned to use to illustrate my first story.

The problem was that I ran out of steam and had a butt load of other ideas in the meantime. I made this story a little over the top and that was by intention. They really used to make what is called "Mental Hygiene Films".

You may have seen these in your old school days. A great example is there was one that explained why guys needed leisure time as a break from all the hard work and responsibility they have. Then it staged little vignettes within the film to indicate that the girl could make better use of her time by doing something productive like learning to sew or doing chores.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ABCDPGzjalQ

Here is a fun 2 minutes that sums it up. It's about a girl who wasn't listening and has sloppy ways that has "deviant ways" that need to conform.

"It's a little late for tears, isn't it Barbara? Even though you had your whole life to prepare for today...."

If you like that one, Habit Patterns is where I got the most inspiration.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9GTBMGUUz6I

There really were films about the best ways to avoid spanking your daughters but if I recall correctly they pretty much said "But sometimes, old fashioned ways are old fashioned because they worked and got passed down from one generation to the next, and one day, you may need to pick up the paddle instead of bending over for one."


I decided to make a grab bag of some of the scenarios and stories i wrote.

I did the "First NIS class" after some girls destroyed the art room.

I did one where the neighbor stops Timmy on his way home and invites him inside for a hot cup of cocoa. "You don't have any sisters do you, Timmy?" she points to her two daughters and says "Sisters are supposed to help you learn about the birds and the bees. I was talking to your mom yesterday and she asked me to do her a favor. If you'll allow it, we'll teach you how girls bodies work."

"Mom!" the girls frown.

"Oh hush, you had nothing better to do all day, and if you don't want to help Timmy, there is some wood outside that won't chop itself!"

I did another short one where at W.H. Sheldon Academy, the male students can discipline the teachers when they give them a bother. Oh, it's not a free for all, Mrs. Duffy. The boys have to form a tribunal and decide if your actions warrant actual discipline. it's all part of our curriculum. Didn't you read the orientation material we sent over before signing your employment contract? you very lucrative employment contract?"


There is a parlor game that is actually called "Poor Pussy" and it's sort of what you might think it is. Well, it's not touching a poor woman's pussy, so maybe it's not what you think it. It's a rainy day game and when I was a kid, I had the good fortune of being introduced to it by a matronly woman and some girls that crawled around and meowed to try to make me laugh. (That's the game).

I was planning on writing something featuring the games but maybe not full blown stories.

The first "Featurette" is a two parter, and I'll post the first part now. I'll warn you, yes I include pictures but most of these pictures in the first chapter aren't even of Melanie. I just really like the vintage retro art and pictures. In the 1960s, there were a lot of campy movies made that featured nudity and sometimes a little BDSM/BDM adjacent. I love the smart girl in the dunce hat idea for running her mouth and I have a few pictures of that as well.


A word on AI before I continue. AI produces a lot of slop. It sucks ass in many ways.

Yet, for an old pervert like me, it does let me do some things that I can't do normally. I love to make cover songs in different ways. Lately, suno has been cracking down on it and making it harder. I was cranking out a video a week. I need to start using it for spelling corrections because I lost my editor friend and now my writing takes forever mostly because I am slow to edit.

I just haven't found the magic workflow. You can't just put the document in ChatGpt or whatever and get back a finished, clean chapter. I know that much.

I also use it for illustration but you can't just take the first image that pops out. I'll sometimes make dozens even hundreds of images before i choose one. It was super hard to make the title image for this story.

Upscaling, Editing and captioning is time consuming and difficult. I tend to merge three or four pictures together, or build out certain aspects of pictures. The title image probably did take me an hour and that's shocking.

At the end of chapter one, i'll share a new version of the title with you.

[EddieDavidson]

[EddieDavidson]

“GIRLS DON’T NEED MODESTY” (1959) Mental Hygiene Film, Produced by C.W. Neff & W.H. Sheldon, and Narrated by Ian Neff, B.S. in conjunction with W.H. Sheldon Disciplinary Academy for Girls and Kellogg’s Ladies Institute for Tradition, Sponsors Include Kellogg’s, Coppertone, Band-Aid, and Graham Crackers, with special thanks to the Fort Gilead Jezebelles who were volunteered by their parents to participate in this production.



All illustrations were created by me with A.I assistance but heavily edited. This one is inspired by the classic Domestic Bliss art and mental hygiene films where the viewer took a front row seat or a Peeping Tom’s eye view from the homes of the families that lived next door to you in every town, everywhere in modern middle America 1959.

Join Ian Neff and Lucky his steadfast cameraman as we explored the female condition and introduce the latest in understanding the female mind through proven discipline concepts such as P.I.G., S.O.W., M.O.M., and of course H.O.L.E.

Let’s take a look what the Carter family are up to today. It seems Claire Carter is out with a boy, Calvin her twin brother is at a Gallant Patrol meeting, and Arthur Carter is freshening up after a long day of work.

Ian is met at the door by a prominent member of the Peach Valley P.T.A, and Gay Women’s Auxiliary, Belinda Carter, Her daughter Melanie is the one that Ian is there to interview in his first self-contained featurette as we tried to determine if Melanie is a Girlfailure or a Girlwonder.

FIRST FEATURETTE: Be A Melony Melanie

“Melanie, come downstairs and show Doctor Neff your titties, dear,” Melanie’s mother Hazel shouted upstairs firmly but politely. It was 1959, at the peak of the (DBHH) Domestic Bliss Happy Housewife Movement, otherwise known as “the good old days,” to many.

Melanie’s mother smiled graciously at the Doctor while he sipped the tea that she had just graciously served him. She wore a lovely green short-sleeve shirtwaist dress with white collar and apron that came up above the knee like most wives wore at home back then. She also wore four-inch-high heels, and her hair and makeup were perfect even though she had no idea that Ian and his camera man were going to drop by this afternoon.

“My father C.W. Neff is the Doctor. I am still working on my Masters degree,” he admitted. He was a dashing young man in his tweed suit and tie.

“I am so sorry, you look like a Doctor, Mister Neff!”

Ian wore his well-trimmed beard and curled up handlebar mustache just like his father did. His job as a schoolteacher at the W.H. Sheldon Disciplinary Academy for girls offered him a comfortable life as an academic and this was the first scene of the mental hygiene that he planned to shoot for his documentary.

“My father and H.W. Sheldon are research partners, and they asked me to narrate a documentary about girls and modesty. This is my first interview,” he said. This film was one of many that would be collectively categorized as mental hygiene films such as Moral Maturity: Good Girls Can Say Yes, Too, What Makes a Good Party, Should Girls Study Home Economics, and Home Discipline Techniques in the Modern Age.

“Modesty? Girls don’t have any use for that,” Melanie’s Mom said dismissively. “Why was Melanie selected for this interview? Is there something special about her?”

“We plan to focus on Girlfailures who embody all the negative attributes of women and show them how they can be Girlwonders like your daughter,” Ian explained.

She didn’t want to say how astonished and honored she was because Belinda had been raised in the old-fashioned belief that women should remain graceful and demure around house guests. She wanted to jump up and down, but she resisted the urge.

Melanie’s mom wished more than ever that her daughter would hurry down for the interview. “I don’t want to raise my voice again. My husband is home from work, and I don’t want to disturb him unnecessarily. Shall I go check on her?”

“I am sure she’ll be right down,” Ian replied patiently.

“Where is that girl? I swear, if she wasn’t going to be interviewed by you then I’d take her panties down and paddle her myself!”

“Just do whatever you’d normally do, Mrs. Carter,” Ian insisted that it would be far more natural if it didn’t seem staged. Melanie’s mom didn’t fully understand but politely smiled anyway. “Girls have a tendency to operate on their own time.”

Melanie didn’t complain when she was summoned. She was raised in a household that believed girls had little use for modesty, and that the greatest ambition a girl should ever have is to be a good daughter.

The best ambition a good daughter should ever have is to land a good husband so she can be a good wife and start a family and raise good sons and good daughters of her own through her example.

The only reason it had taken her a few minutes to prepare herself was she was squeezing into pantyhose and a girdle, wiggling into heels that were too small, so her feet seemed dainty, applying fresh makeup and perfume.

That, and she had been two fingers deep in the middle of playing with herself while she had the room to herself. She loved sucking the taste of herself off of her fingers after she finished masturbating. Melanie hadn’t been able to reach orgasm which deeply frustrated her, but she enjoyed the taste and smell of her pussy on her fingers and didn’t wash them so it would be there later.

She hoped that didn’t make her a lesbian, because back then it was considered almost as deviant as dating a person of another race.

“Why do you believe girls have no use for modesty, Mrs. Carter?” Ian relaxed in the best chair in the house while she stood in her own living room, oblivious to what Melanie was doing upstairs.

Ian nodded toward his cameraman, Lucky Stroganoff. The lanky cameraman adjusted the lens of the heavy 16mm camera. He’d been a war correspondent and knew how to get a shot quickly.

Mrs. Carter smoothed the front of her apron and looked directly into the camera. Her smile was bright and unforced.

“Just be natural, Mrs. Carter, you can even have a seat if you like,” Ian offered the woman a seat in her own home knowing that most women would never be seated while a male guest was present.

“Thank you, but I’d prefer to stand, Mr. Neff,” she smiled and thought of her words carefully. “Well, Mister Neff, it’s quite simple,” Belinda explained in a clear, measured voice. “Modesty is just vanity wearing a mask. When a young lady tries to hide her body or her actions behind a curtain of privacy, she is usually trying to conceal a flaw in her attitude. Stubbornness, vanity, deceit, or a desire to lollygag instead of being useful. A girl with nothing to hide has no reason to be secretive.”

She gestured toward the stairs with a serene expression as she discussed her attitudes about raising her daughters.

“In our house, we look at a girl’s development the same way we look at a clean kitchen floor or a well-swept driveway. Exposure creates honesty, and when she is older then she can be entitled to dignity, respect and pride but she’s just a silly girl without two thoughts to rub together, and more tits than brains,” Belinda covered her mouth and inhaled as if she were trying to swallow the words after they escaped her mouth.

“It’s quite alright, Mrs. Carter. You’ve done nothing wrong. I’ve heard many reasons why girls don’t need modesty over the years. My father wrote the book on the topic, after all. You could save people the time to read several dry academic chapters on humility and the female mind with your plain and honest talk.”

“That’s very nice of you but whatever you can learn about women you won’t find in a book. Most of us don’t even understand why we do half the things we do,” she smiled sweetly.

She heard her daughter’s heels clicking on the stairs and sighed.

“We ensure our daughters accept their status as females with good humor, grace and poise and we don’t spoil them by sparing the rod, like some more progressive folks do,” she admitted.

Melanie rushed down the stairs at that moment, tits out in a skirt and heels. “I came fast, Mama! Don’t spank my bottom!” she begged before even noticing the rolling camera and the two strange men in her living room.

Lucky turned the camera’s attention to the girl and she initially blushed in shock when she saw the camera rolling because her tits were already out. Melanie instinctively placed her hands over her huge pumpkin shaped tits to cover her modesty.

“Mister Neff?” she immediately recognized her art teacher from school. “I thought a boy was calling on me.”

“Why on earth would I tell you to come down here with your tits out if a boy was here to take you out on a date?”

“You taught me to never question you or daddy. I just do what you tell me, and that prevents my bottom from turning red.”

She still wasn’t sure why her instructor from the college she attended was in her living room.

“That is a very sensible policy, Melanie,” Ian said. He offered her a reassuring, professional smile as he made a quick note on his pad about specimen #1 Melanie Carter – Melons Melanie.

“I wish more young ladies would adopt it. Immediate compliance is the hallmark of a well-behaved daughter and a good future wife. There is no need for alarm. Your mother and I are simply conducting the opening field interview for the Academy’s new instructional series, and you were chosen as our first specimen.”

“Spess-a-men?” Melanie was lovely, had incredible tits, but she was as dumb even for most girls her age.

“Not men,” Ian smiled, and happily explained that Melanie had been chosen for her bright demeanor, cheerful attitude and obedient nature as an example of a Girl Wonder to serve as role model as part of an instructional series for other young ladies on how to advance from Girlfailures to Girl Wonders.

“Gosh! It wasn’t because of my huge tits?” she held her hands cupped over them. She was known around the campus as Melons Melanie for a reason and it wasn’t because she liked cantaloupe so much.

“Melanie, I am going to wash your mouth out with soap after you finish this interview!” her mother said.

“Sorry, Mommy,” she pouted.

“Now, take your hands off your bubbly-wubblies. They obviously came all this way to see them. The least you can do is stop acting like it costs five dollars a peep to get a gander like some freak-show hussy at the Circus.”

Melanie reluctantly removed her hands from her massive tits and blushed. They were enormous and majestic knockers perfectly buoyant and her tiny waist only made those buttery upraised nipples, and milky natural jugs look that much more impressive.

“Your titties are perfectly symmetrical,” Mr. Neff had seen plenty of tits during his lifetime and he enjoyed big ones, little ones, imperfect saggy ones, but nothing had prepared him for Melanie Carter’s exquisite sweater stuffers.

“Hubba Bubba,” Lucky exclaimed from behind the camera. “Those bazooms are out of sight, like the fins of a 1958 Buick Skylark. They go on and on for miles!”


Author's note: I'll probably put illustrations at the end, but you had to see these tits to get this story.

Melanie’s smile was as effervescent as her tits were wonderous. She brightened but Lucky and Ian’s eyes were locked on those stiff pink nipples jutting out from the tips of the pretty young lady’s tits.

“An instructional series, Mr. Neff?” Melanie asked with curiosity as she stood there with her tits exposed and wondered aloud “I can’t teach any girls to have tits like mine, and I wouldn’t want that anyway. How would I be special with my knockers?” Her voice held a sweet, melodic register for greeting guests.

Melanie kneaded her breasts with her hands under the boob and lifted slightly to show how heavy they were to the camera.

“Melanie Carter. The good Lord granted you big tits like mine. You did nothing special to earn those except eat us out of house and home. You are certainly no more special than any other girl just because your balloons hold more air,” Belinda was ready to paddle her daughter and the only restraint that prevented it was she wanted to project decorum for her house guests.

“I would politely disagree, Madam,” Ian interjected. “Melanie exhibits a positive attitude, and a serene attitude even though we are clearly admiring your daughter’s breasts and filming them for the entire world to one day admire. She came down the stairs with tits out without knowing if it would be a gentleman caller, the doctor come to give her an enema, or a camera crew here to film her bosoms. Many female specimens would have expected some modicum of warning before being exposed in that manner.”

Melanie hadn’t fully registered that literally everyone in the world would be able to look at her tits for generations to come if the film were to go into circulation. That meant that many of the boys she flirted with could watch the film rather than take her on a date for a chance to look at what she had under her shirt.

She began to pout and started to put her hands over her nipples slowly.

“Melanie Carter! Don’t you dare cover those tits up until Mr. Neff and his cameraman are finished with you!” her mother chastised her. “You know the M.O.M., protocol, don’t you?”

“Sorry, Mom!” Her hands fled to her sides, and she began to blush furiously. “Yes, I know it, but I don’t remember what it stands for.”

“How can you forget that? It’s literally why they call mothers a mom. It’s our duty to teach you that you must obey men, young lady!”

Belinda didn’t have high hopes for Melanie ever going to a university and her grades were poor. She’d forget this acronym in a few days again and it would have to be spanked right back into her memory. “I swear, it’s like you almost enjoy being spanked and punished, sometimes.”

The Carter family didn’t see punishment as abuse. It was just a natural thing that loving parents did when raising naughty girls to help them remain less naughty and learn to behave themselves. It was as natural to them as changing diapers or teaching them to read a book.

The girls of the family weren’t rebels and didn’t feel singled out, because all the other girls in school were treated pretty much the same way at home and at school.

The notion that the reason mothers had been called mom was a regional myth like the Jersey Devil or Sasquatch and it had only recently entered the Peach Valley zeitgeist in the last twenty years that the etymology of mom being short for mother was related to that acronym.

M.O.M. was actually a slogan that came out of a local theme park (Fort Gilead) back in the 1930s as part of a marketing campaign for their idea of domestic bliss and a harmonious home that caught on so well in the area.

“Do you need to see Melanie remove anything else?” Belinda offered graciously like her daughter’s tits were Halloween Candy and Mr. Neff was the first trick or treater of the evening.

“Not at the moment,” Ian politely replied.

“Stand up straight, shoulder’s back, nose up, chin up, tits up, and out, Good girl,” Belinda added crisply before explaining she was once a WAC in the Navy and she was used to giving orders. “If you are going to stand with your tits out, you may as well stand up straight and not slouch.”

“Yes, Mom,” Melanie pouted. “I just don’t want to look foolish on the screen.”

“You’ll look a whole lot more foolish with your panties around your ankles, bent over with a paddle to the bare bottom while you finish this interview, won’t you?” Mrs. Carter offered in a firm, loving but strict manner that meant no nonsense would be tolerated from her daughter.

Ian continued the interview, and wondered if he’d cut that interaction or leave it in the film for authenticity. He adjusted his horn-rimmed glasses, glanced at his notebook and asked his next question.

“What would you say is the best thing about having such wonderful tits?” he asked her as he stared at how pointy they were.

Melanie couldn’t resist blushing and smiling over a compliment. It was one of the few times that she loved to blush. “Obviously, that it is easier for me to get boys to call on me for a date on Saturday nights,” she put her finger in her mouth and sucked on the tip to think.

“Melanie Carter! Finger out of your mouth or I’ll have you stick that somewhere that you won’t particularly enjoy right here and now!” her mother insisted.

Melanie removed her finger with spit still dripping from the tip and brought them to her side crisply but continued to have a dumb expression on her face.

“Do you know what part of your body I am talking about, Melanie?” her mother asked dourly. She was unconvinced her daughter understood the warning she had been given.

“In my bottom?” Her daughter dragged out the words in disgust, as her lips curled in disgust. She dreaded even discussing her bottom, much less having it become a subject of this documentary.

“That’s exactly right! Just be thankful the camera was rolling or I might not have been so understanding this time!”

Mrs. Carter glanced at Ian and silently nodded for him to continue his questions, while Melanie stood in the living room with her tits out for the camera.

“I am curious if you lack modesty about your chest, why did you make that face when your mother mentioned your bottom?” Ian continued.

“The best thing about having big tits is that it keeps the boys’ eyes off of my fat bottom!” Melanie admitted jokingly with a bright grin.

“So, you’d be embarrassed if you were told to show us your butt?” Ian probed further.

“Even though I am proud that I have big tits, I am still embarrassed that I have to expose my tits on film and show them to you. I’d be really embarrassed if I was told I had to stick my bare bottom out because that means I am about to get punished for something.”

“Is that the only reason you’d have modesty when it comes to exposing your butt?” Ian asked.

Melanie resisted the pressing urge to put her finger in her mouth and thought for a moment while a vacant expression grew across her face. “My butt is stinky and fat, and I doubt anyone wants to see two chubby cheeks with a dirty pink hole in the center.”

“You don’t have modesty when it comes to your mouth, Melanie,” Ian countered. At first, Melanie didn’t see why that mattered until he added “You have two big cheeks on either side, and a pink hole in the center you keep putting your finger in. I am sure you’ve had bad breath many times before. Do you insist on hiding your mouth?”

“I can’t do much about hiding my mouth,” she chuckled with amusement as she realized the similarities between both holes on her body. “One is an entrance for food, and the other is an exit only.”

Ian was about to explain how a lady’s butt can be used for other things (for educational purposes) but Mrs. Carter interjected. “We teach our daughters that ladies’ bottoms are intended for three things. Melanie, tell the viewers what those are.”

“Sitting,” she held up one finger and her pretty brown eyes darted upward and to the side as if she were looking for the information. “Pooping,” she held up a second finger, and “to punish us when we need it.”

“There is a fourth use,” Eddie grinned and said that would be for another documentary in the future before changing the topic. “Now, Melanie,” Ian asked in a detached, clinical manner. “Your mother mentioned a moment ago that you possess a rather significant physical development for a girl your age. Specifically, your sizable breasts. When you rushed down the stairs just now, you instinctively attempted to cover them with your hands. Tell our audience about that reaction.”

Melanie was dumbfounded. It was a natural state for her, and she wasn’t sure how to respond other than for her face to turn a darker shade of crimson as she resisted the urge to cover her tits from the camera’s eye.

“I was just being silly, I guess. Mama said to come downstairs tits out, and I thought there would be a suitor waiting to call on me here, or something.”

“Do many boys call on you?”

“Um, well, how many is too many?” she shifted her weight and tried to count the guys she was currently juggling on her social calendar.

It was at that point, three rowdy young men walked in the door, talking and laughing.

“Mom, please tell Calvin he can’t have his friends here during my interview!” the sweet, submissive, innocent bimbo-like face disappeared and was replaced with a vindictive older sister that was angry her limelight was being invaded.

“What’s going on?” Calvin and his friends made a bee-line straight for where his sister was. He’d seen her tits before many times around the house, but his friends hadn’t.

“Whoa, Melanie really does have Melons,” his best friend Larry noted.

She pouted but felt like she had no other choice than to stand there and let them ogle her. “Well, go on and get your good look at them!” she frowned.

“Can you jiggle them?” Larry pantomimed a stripper spinning her tits one at a time by wiggling his hips lewdly.

Ian waited patiently. This was classic sibling rivalry, and he thought it may make a great b-roll for the film.

“Calvin, can you and your friends tease your sister later after Mr. Neff has finished with her?” Belinda had a typical “Boys will be boys” attitude like most women did back then. She knew siblings liked to tease each other out of love and like rain it was bound to happen. She just preferred it to rain when they didn’t have guests.

“Hiya, Mister Neff! I can’t wait to be in your class one day! Calvin Carter, Color Sergeant, Valor Company of the Fort Gilead Gallant Patrol,” he saluted crispy and his friends clicked their heels and followed suit.

Calvin and his friends were dressed in mock confederate uniforms and had just come from the local meeting of their chapter of Gallant Scouts. The Boy Scouts had never caught on in Peach Valley, because of the competing local organization sponsored by the local theme park at Fort Gilead.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Ian returned the salute and said that he’d rather film Melanie in a typical interaction with her siblings.

Melanie sighed with exasperation as she turned beet red. She felt completely humiliated she had to stand there with her hands down at her sides while these grinning twerps stared at her boobs fluttering and bouncing slightly on their own.

“Go on and jiggle them for your brother’s friends so they can get upstairs and change before supper,” Belinda insisted impatiently. She wasn’t happy about Calvin barging in but she wasn’t going to go against a male guest.

Melanie half-heartedly jiggled both as she offered a sweet, helpless look and bounced on her heels.

“Aww, that’s nothing! Let’s see you jiggle them one at a time like the Egyptian snake lady that dances down at the Circus peep show.”

Today’s standards would have found it scandalous but at family venues in the 1950s and 60s, there were plenty of scantily clad tattooed ladies performing odd dances and entertaining tricks in peep shows that cost a dime or a nickel to watch. No one cared who you were, if you had a dime or a nickel you could watch if you were so inclined to do so.

“I’ll try,” she said helplessly as she jiggled her left hip and bounced a single breast. She was amazed she could almost do it but the other one quickly began to move at the same time. “I can’t do it!” she admitted while knotting her brow and looking pathetic.

“You know what they say, sis!” Calvin pointed at his sister, narrowly avoiding tapping her stiff nipples. “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try, again!”

Melanie rolled her eyes and looked at her mother for guidance, and in the hope that she’d put her foot down with Calvin to insist he leave her alone. Much like her mother, she also believed boys will be boys and assumed that his annoying teasing was just part of the deal when you were a big sister.

“Ah, are you a student of William Edward Hickson, Mister Carter?” Ian asked in an erudite manner like someone recognizing another scholar.

“Does he teach Science or English?” Calvin asked, while his friends chuckled at his sister’s humiliated state.

“I am afraid, neither. He’s quite dead. The only reason that I know this bit of trivia is that the quote from his work in “The Singing Master” was cited by Thomas Palmer in the Teacher’s Manual that was part of my studies.”

“I prefer the quote by W.C. Fields, who said that if you can’t succeed, there is no point in looking like a damn fool about it,” Lucky made a wisecrack from behind the camera.

“So, are you gonna try, or cry, Sis?” Calvin was a clever lad, and Ian hoped he’d be in his class next term.

“I can’t jiggle just one boob, Calvin. I am not made that way,” she pouted and blushed in consternation.

“You sound like a Girlfailure when you quit before you even try,” Ian lectured his student. “A Girlwonder will develop a peachy talent and practice until she can achieve success!”

Girlfailure and Girlwonder wasn’t part of the common vernacular, but they were part of Ian’s documentary and their meanings were obvious. Girlfailures exhibited the base and unacceptable qualities of female-kind and Girlwonders were what all girls should strive to be.

“I don’t know what any of that means, Mr. Neff, “she admitted with a sad regretful whine. “Was this in the homework you gave us?”

“It is your homework now, Melanie,” Ian decided. “I would like you to consider developing a Peachy Talent to show off those amazing tits of yours by jiggling one at a time and spinning them. I’ve seen women do it and I know it’s possible. Do you know the difference between a beginning musician and an expert?”

“No, Sir,” Melanie begged for pity with a defeated look on her face.

统计

“5,000 hours of practice,” Ian answered and while it sounded like a joke it was the truth that even the most natural player had to practice technique and behavior to get better.

Melanie dropped her chin and pouted, as she tried to imagine 5,000 hours of jiggling her tits.

“Chin up! Look Mister Neff in the eye when he is speaking to you,” Arthur Carter entered the room wearing an off-white suit that he changed into after he got home from work. He was an imposing man, clean shaven with a square jaw and a little grey at his temples.

The entire room instantly shifted gears to accommodate his arrival. Calvin and his friends snapped to a rigid, respectful salute, while Mrs. Carter immediately smoothed her apron and checked her hair in the mirror, her face lighting up with a welcoming smile. “Shall I get your newspaper, scotch and the sports page for you, dear?”

“Not at the moment,” he held up his hand to his wife and asked why everyone was standing around his daughter’s bare chest.

Ian offered his hand and introduced himself, and Lucky did the same.

“Your daughter was selected to be a subject in our documentary on Girlfailures and Girlwonders,” Ian explained.

“Well, I know the girl is as dumb as a box of rocks, and she has an annoying tone to her voice, but there is no reason to hold her up to ridicule in a documentary is there?” he asked. The admission sent ripples of embarrassment down his daughter’s spine.

“There is no reason to make that face, Melanie. Your mother and I have discussed your shortcomings many times, and we still love you as much as any of our kids!” he added.

“Actually, Melanie was chosen as a Girlwonder because despite her lack of academic knowledge, she’s known for her chipper, positive attitude and obedience at the academy. We seldom have to discipline her, and when her mother called her downstairs topless, she didn’t hesitate to obey.”

“Well, I should hope not,” Arthur looked at his daughter and didn’t see a sexual being. He saw a girl and girls didn’t need modesty. “A girl needs to learn to obey her parents, so she will be trained to obey her husband after marriage. If we told her to walk out bare bottomed and ready for a spanking there should be no talking back, just compliance.”

Arthur wasn’t arguing, raising his voice, or saying anything scandalous. He was talking like a responsible dog owner would about teaching their puppy not to beg for scraps at the table or pull on the leash when going for a walk.

“Melanie has been a delight, Mister Carter,” Ian expressed his gratitude and said that she’s been very obedient and answered his questions fully as he asked them.

“Well, then I am quite proud of you, Melanie,” her father offered stoically. Melanie preened like a dutiful daughter and her mother felt a sense of pride washing over her because the compliment meant that she had been raising her daughter properly.

“I don’t want to cut into your supper time, but I’d like to continue to speak with your daughter and finish the interview. Do you mind if we come back to film tomorrow?”

“You are welcome to stay for dinner,” Arthur offered graciously. “You can ask my daughter anything you like, or anyone else in the household for that matter.”

His wife swallowed hard because Belinda had not prepared enough food for two additional men to join them. Her mind instantly sprang into action trying to develop a plan around seating and how to plate the food for additional guests.

“If it won’t be any bother,” Ian asked politely. He knew that was simply a formality and that Arthur wasn’t the type to change his mind and be wishy washy about an invitation to dinner.

“May I be excused to start the preparations, dear?” Mrs. Carter asked her husband politely.

“Do you need my wife for anything?” he asked Ian.

“I am sure we could interview her after dinner if we do,” Ian smiled.

“You are excused, Belinda,” he dismissed his wife and watched her cute butt as she scurried into the kitchen. That was her domain and he had his world, and she had hers. He didn’t try to micromanage his wife in the kitchen and wouldn’t unless she needed it.

47752-1-04-01-intermission.jpg

[EddieDavidson]

This one is an homage to an illustration from long ago of this time when girls used to get spanked. she's a smarty pants that doesn't get to wear any pants every day after class in "Girl's Honor Club"

You can jizz on-her back, Jizz on-her butt, jizz-on her face, you can jizz honor anywhere.

[EddieDavidson]

This has nothing to do with this featurette but everything to do with the vibe. I considered it for the title image. I really had no story. I just love how happy the dad and mom are to finally have some peace and quiet.


I don't know if you ever noticed this but almost every movie back in those days featured some smart-mouthed/brainy woman with opinions she couldn't prevent herself from sharing and the solution was always an ass whooping. it didn't matter if it came from Elvis or John Wayne - over the knee the girl went for an attitude adjustment and it always worked.

The girl always became suddenly much more helpful and the crowd loved it. Can you imagine the reaction today?

When I was a kid, I saw this movie in the 1970s, and the dad drags his cheating wife out to the kitchen and spanks her in front of the son. She's reluctant but in this sort of "Oh Henry, not in front of jimmy!" type of way. She'll take the asshwooping for fucking all his friends while he is at work, but she doesn't want him to see her bent over getting a light paddling.

The casual way it was done as if it was like "Gladys! He knows you had sex with my best friend. If I do nothing, then he'll know I thought it was alright."

That wasn't the exact dialogue. I've yet to find that old film and I don't know the name. Google has become a g-rated paradise now, so trying to find anything salacious will usually backfire. It wasn't the focus of the movie. I really like that casual domestic discipline "Just wait until your father gets home, butts will burn!" type of nostalgia in films.

I could imagine a Brady Bunch episode that worked like that, and before anyone mentions it - yes, I saw the one where Bobby and Cindy go skinny dipping and Alice catches them and has a look at Bobby's dong when she opens his coat. It was a product of a time when streaking and nudism was on the rise and seemed innocent enough - because girls didn't need modesty or bras back then..

[EddieDavidson]

“Come on, Calvin. Why don’t you and your little friends go upstream and get washed up for supper. We should get out of Mr. Neff’s hair while he concludes his interview.”

“But Dad,” Calvin bristled over his father’s instructions. If it had been one of his daughters Calvin might already be over his knee, panties around his ankles. His father talked down to Calvin because just like Melanie, he saw his son as a little boy that wasn’t ready for any real responsibility.

Ian saw a clever and capable young man.

Calvin was still in his Gallant Patrol uniform, and to Arthur that seemed a juvenile pursuit like playing with toy soldiers. Calvin saw it as a civic duty to serve his community and planned to enlist in the military after graduation but had never told his father that.

“Mister Neff was about to give Melanie some homework to learn a peachy trick because we wanted to see if she could jiggle one boob at a time like a painted lady in the freak show.”

“Painted ladies in freak shows don’t usually attract the best husbands,” Arthur was suddenly very skeptical.

Meanwhile, his daughter stood alone, hands at her sides, tits out with the camera rolling the entire time.

“No one is recommending that Melanie become a tattooed harlot and work in the peep shows. She gave up rather easily on the challenge and I thought it would benefit her to be able to demonstrate control over one breast at a time with practice to amuse her suitors and future husbands.”

“My daughter has ample means to amuse her suitors already,” he glanced at her massive tits and pouty face and didn’t have to mention her giant tits were already enough to play with.

“They certainly are ample, but her failure to jiggle one at a time demonstrates the lack of muscular isolation inherent in the female anatomy.”

“What tangible value would there be in developing those muscles, Mister Neff?” Arthur was a brilliant businessman with a quick mind just like his son. “Will it help her to wash a dish faster? Will it produce more milk to feed a hungry baby?”

He was clearly looking for a tangible product from the exercise.

“In my father’s research,” Ian began to quote from the work of C.M. Neff and W.H. Sheldon on how women’s brains worked differently from men's. “He was able to prove that their brains are wired to completely different stimuli than males and that is why they have such a hard time with standard logic and problem solving,” Ian explained dryly.

A knowing smile appeared on Arthur’s lips, but he politely allowed Mr. Neff to continue his explanation. His wife appeared silently with glasses of scotch for the men and then without interruption she returned to her work in the kitchen.

“Measuring Intelligence Quotient in men requires quantification of parametric values for genetics, education and experience. It’s very cut and dry but with women a crude formula based on breast volume, domestic aptitude, rebellion threshold due to over-education and humiliation capacity for consequence response, good wives can be improved through refinement of those variables.”

Arthur took a sip of his scotch and glanced at the ice in the glass. “I should have known. Your father must be C.M. Neff, right?” Arthur’s tone suggested he might have a bone to pick with him on his theories.

“His formula is controversial because it is not always repeatable even on the same subject because women’s hormones can cause them to react in unpredictable ways,” Ian offered a defense of his father’s ideas.

“I am a huge fan of your father’s work. I own all of his books in first edition,” Arthur placed his hand on Ian’s shoulder supportively. “The reason I enrolled my daughters at his academy is a quote from Fundamentals of Fundaments in chapter one. I believe it read…”

“Measuring the capacity of females to reason and solve problems is like measuring the capacity of hurricanes to build new homes!!” both men quoted the line together at the same time and smiled.

“I didn’t realize you were the expert on the matter, Mister Neff,” Arthur’s estimation of Ian suddenly shot through the roof.

“I have a long way to go before I am as knowledgeable as my father,” Ian admitted modestly. “I helped my father with his research, and we had a heck of a time with his initial formulas because his test subjects would react with reluctance to a scenario one day, and complete randomness the next. It made getting quantification to test his hypothesis impossible.”

“Can I go help Mom with dinner, Daddy?” she asked politely.

His silence was her answer to that question. “Well, enlighten me. Why should my daughter practice titty wiggling?” he asked as he looked over at his sullen daughter waiting off to the side with her big jugs hanging out.

"It is a matter of discipline through physical conditioning, Mr. Carter. The research shows that when a young lady learns to control her peaches,” Ian indicated a woman’s vagina with his hand.

“Oh, the lad and his friend are old enough to hear the word twat or cunt, and they say it often enough,” Arthur put his arm around his son affectionately and smiled at him. Up until that point, Calvin had attempted to watch his vulgarity around his father because he feared getting soap in his mouth.

“The discipline required to train a part of your daughter’s body to please her future husband through kissing, sex or even dancing and jiggling her massive melons increases her physical quotient to increase her good wife potential score. We call it S.O.W. and H.O.L.E.”

“I haven’t heard of this theory,” Arthur was a very serious man, and he took a light sip of the remainder of scotch in his glass, and silently invited Ian to continue his explanation.

[[[ image 01_bimbo.png goes here centered ]]]

“It’s going to be featured in the documentary we are making,” Ian explained. “S.O.W is a mnemonic for the slothful female behaviors that are undesirable.”

• S – Selfish Stubbornness. Prioritizing personal comfort over the amusement and relaxation of the masculine provider.
• O – Obnoxious Overthinking. Questioning the tangible value of an assignment instead of instantly obeying the instructor.
• W – Wasteful Whining. Utilizing a pathetic, resentful register of voice instead of accepting administrative correction with good humor.

Ian envisioned the words appearing in the documentary as he explained them using Chromakey.

“If your daughter begins to exhibit those behaviors, then send her into the living room to practice jiggling one tit at a time. Eventually, she will become a Hole. A Hole is what a woman is when she has reached her highest good wife potential value.”

In the 1950s, mnemonics were very popular.

H.O.L.E

• H – Humbled into compliance, without resistance, sass or rebellion.
• O – Obedience without need for clarification and justification, which can only be achieved when the mind is quieted through extreme physical exertion or physical pain.
• L – Loving. There is no long-term maintenance of good wife potential if the female does not love and trust the male to be a proper authority and head of the household. Loving wives don’t feel resentment or have as much reluctance toward obedience.
• E – Eager and Enthusiastic. A hole is eager to be filled each and every day and wakes up with one purpose and need. A woman that has become a true hole will be glad to be used anytime it is desired.

“So, to avoid becoming a SOW, my daughter must become a HOLE?” Arthur grinned because the acronyms were obvious vulgarities.

“In order for the natural order of society to continue, it would be preferable if all women were holes and not sows, wouldn’t you think?” Ian quoted a line he had W.H. Sheldon say to his father when they were discussing the new acronyms.

“I do, indeed,” Arthur looked at his daughter and back to Ian. “How long would my daughter need to practice?”

“I would start her out at a few hours a day and then on weekends or summer break increase it.”

“But Daddy, what about …” Melanie could not stop herself in time. She placed her hand over her mouth and instantly regretted the interruption. She was normally quite well behaved.

“You know not to interrupt when men are speaking,” Arthur ignored his daughter’s mumbled apologies and excuses that followed and apologized to Ian. He insisted she get a bar of soap and return to that spot immediately.

[[[ image 01_soap.png goes here centered ]]]

“You came here expecting a well behaved daughter and I am sad to report that my other daughter is not much better. My wife can’t stop gossiping and is quite the chatter-box as well.”

Ian said that it was understandable and that no females were perfectly obedient. He knew because he helped his father perform research on their limits and boundaries.

“I was about to mention the undue burden this may place on me to supervise my daughter as she tried to bounce to ensure that she’s not lollygagging or playing with her breasts like they were toys meant for her to pluck and tweak.”

Melanie’s humiliation peaked at maximum when her father told everyone that she played with her own titties sometimes. Her mother had caught her only that morning when she walked in on her while she was changing in her room. She’d managed to keep it from her little brother, and she assumed that her father hadn’t found out, but nothing slipped by Arthur Carter in his own home.

“I’d watch her bounce,” Calvin offered, and he volunteered his friends who were eager to help out.

Calvin’s sister thought that her humiliation could not increase any higher, but she was wrong. Imagining the three of them laughing and watching her like she was a new color television set with two big knobs on her chest to turn was all it took to make her body quiver and butterflies turn loops in her tummy.

“I am sure once the novelty wore off, your attention would as well, Calvin,” Arthur decided pragmatically as he declined his son’s offer. “I plan efficient production lines at the Coppertone factory, Neff. If I have one daughter titty jiggling that leaves only one other and my wife to do all the chores and the yardwork and they barely keep up with it now.”

“You have an impressive place, but you don’t have a labor problem, Mr. Carter. Two females should be more than enough domestically for a property this size. You have a motivation problem. Increasing discipline and consequences while reducing privileges would take care of that.”

Ian had a point and Arthur conceded he had been a bit lax lately. “I am just worn so thin with my promotion at work. How would it work?” he asked.

Ian suggested that Melanie stand legs apart and jiggle at first, but eventually start doing jumping jacks, hula hoops and jumping rope to practice and train herself to build up the muscles to master what he called a “Melon Trick” – moving one tit and not the other without touching them.

This time Melanie demurely raised her hand and got permission from Ian to ask a question. She was permitted to remove the soap to respond. “I can’t do that in a dress, and heels, Mister Neff.”

“You’d have to take them off,” Arthur practicalized to her like that should be obvious. He wiggled his finger and insisted she undress to her panties.

Calvin was disappointed his sister didn’t have to strip completely because his friends would have been even more excited to come by his house. Ian picked up on that from Calvin’s body language after his father made the recommendation.

[[[ image 01_jack.png goes here centered ]]]

The sound of her feet hitting the wooden floor every time she jumped and jiggled was quite amusing to the men, but Arthur and Ian were able to be discreet about their amusement due to years of practice around silly females during their corrections.

Melanie reluctantly stripped, and began to perform uncoordinated jumping jacks by kicking and leaping in the air. Each time she landed on her feet, her huge tits flopped and sometimes they even bounced up and hit her in the nose.

“It looks like she’s taking up boxing,” Calvin joked. “If she keeps this up, she’ll be ready to take on Ingemar Johansson.”

“Who is she?” Melanie asked as she flopped and raised her arms in a futile attempt at an uncoordinated jumping jack while off balance.

Calvin’s friends laughed and explained HE was the heavyweight champion of the world. “Bring your arms up together and clap, and kick your legs out at the same time, sis,” Calvin tried to teach his sister how to do a proper jumping jack.

When she didn’t get it, he joked that he wished he could teach his sister a “Jumping Jill” by putting super gluing spinners from his balsa wood airplane models to her nipples and watching them spin. Super glue had just come out back then and it was called Eastman 910.

“That’s not a bad idea,” Arthur mused before saying “That’s more of a punishment though, son. This is a training to educate your sister.”

“It could be both,” Ian suggested. “Your daughter could do three hours a day minimum of titty jiggling and then I am sure you could find more interesting weights to attach to her nipples than propellers.”

“My dad uses clothespins on my mom’s nipples,” one of Calvin’s friends suggested.

“Yeah,” Calvin liked that idea. “Dad, you could take rubber bands and wrap them tightly around Melanie’s nipples, and that will keep her focus on her boobs. You could also make her put soap in her mouth while she practices. If that doesn’t work, you could always send her out on the front lawn to practice.”

“Son, I hate to say it, but your sister is the kind of girl that likes showing off her tits. She may blush but she likes how you and your friends are in awe of them, and how she stands out amongst the other girls.”

“I thought I was supposed to be enthusiastic, Daddy,” Melanie interrupted again. She just couldn’t help herself.

“Good girls express enthusiasm to obey their teachers and parents, but reluctance for praise,” Ian frowned and made a note in his journal which made Melanie apologetic and nervous.

“I am so sorry, Mister Neff! I'll bounce for hours if I am told to do so, but please don’t cut me out of your documentary,” she begged politely and began to hop from one foot to another in a desperate attempt to jiggle her tits one at a time.

“I am afraid your assessment of Melanie as a Girlwonder may be based on how she is at school, Mister Neff. At home, she’s constantly popping off with interruptions and unexpressed thoughts. I am open to suggestions,” Mr. Carter decided.

“Hey Dad,” Calvin interjected his bright idea with a lifted finger. No one other than his older sister saw it as an extreme double standard for the application of the same rule not to interrupt conversations, and she had decided to shut her mouth and jiggle.

“My sister will always have tits that get boys' attention, but what if we turn her around and have her jump and wiggle her butt at the same time? She gets really sensitive about showing her butt during punishments, and she gets angry when other girls talk about how chunky it’s gotten.”

“Is that right?” Arthur turned to get a better look at his daughter. She ceased jumping with a panicked expression, and a hesitant reluctance that he had never seen from Melanie before.

“No, please that would be far too embarrassing, Daddy….” she began pleading and realized from her father’s serious, quiet expression that negotiation wasn’t going to be possible. “At least, perhaps, we could start after Mister Neff has had his dinner and gone home?”

Arthur made her wait which gave Melanie false hope that he’d be reasonable and merciful and not start her training until after the documentary interview was over. She once again absent-mindedly stuck her finger in her mouth to nervously chew on her fingernail while she gave her father puppy dog eyes. There was nothing she could do about the compulsion to suck her finger. It just felt good to slip it in her mouth and calmed her anxiety and shameful feelings of embarrassment.

Even though she didn’t understand why, sucking on her finger made her feel more feminine as well. She assumed it was because her finger still tasted sticky and salty like her pussy from when she masturbated earlier.

Arthur answered with a finger of his own. He held up his pointer finger and twirled it to indicate she should turn around.

“Now, hold on, Arthur,” Ian addressed Mister Carter by his first name, which was a slight breach of etiquette but Arthur quite liked Ian and trusted his advice.

Melanie assumed that Mister Neff would add some new humiliating twist to her practice sessions and turned around to face away from the men in the living room. She took solace in the realization that at least she didn’t have to look at them, and Calvin’s friends wouldn’t get to see her delightfully jiggly tits any longer.

She sucked a little harder on her finger, savoring the taste of playing with herself while she was up in her room.

“You won’t be able to actually tell if Melanie is jiggling one or both tits when she’s facing away from you in the main room, and she told me earlier during her interview that she was particularly embarrassed of her bottom.”

“It won’t really matter, I will probably only check on Melanie’s progress during dinner, and her mother won’t have time as she has chores of her own to complete. I am trusting on your recommendation that with some additional discipline that our home will remain well kept and tidy,” Arthur replied.

“Dad, I volunteered to check on Melanie! I can make sure she’s practicing,” Calvin pleaded with his father.

Melanie was bent over, pantied ass facing the room, and smugly trying not to seem very happy about how things were going. She would have to embarrass herself until she could manage jiggling one tit at a time, but she reasoned that may make her seem more attractive to her future husband, and be yet another way she stood out around other girls.

“Yes, son and as I’ve already said,” Arthur explained patiently that he felt his son would lose interest quickly and it wasn’t worth counting on him for this. “You have Gallant Scouts, Sports, and schoolwork already, and you barely have enough leisure time as it is. I really can’t ask you to watch your sister. I expect her to be practicing at least three hours a day, Son.”

Melanie cracked a silent smile when her little brother was told no. She loved her brother very much, but she took consolation that if she was going to be humiliated, at least he wouldn’t be getting what he wanted.

“I agree with your father,” Ian consoled the lad by placing an understanding hand on his shoulder. “It can be very tediously monotonous watching a girl’s bare ass bounce up and down for hours at a time.”

Melanie’s heart raced. The last thing that she wanted was to have her fat ass flapping and clapping in the living room for anyone to see. She’d rather show her tits to the entire school assembly than her bare bottom to anyone.

“Oh no,” Arthur decided sternly. “Panties will be just fine for Melanie. I have no desire to see or smell her sweaty fundament while she conducts these exercises. I’ve raised two daughters and I’ll bare their behinds when they need a correction, but I have to have some standards of decorum and decency.”

Melanie brought her hands to her mouth to stifle a giggle of joy, and hoped that her father wouldn’t notice she was thrilled by his decision.

“The reason that I recommended bare bottom practice,” Ian said after he noticed the girl’s squeaky giggle. “Is the same reason that I do not think that you would want to supervise your sister after you hear my recommendation, Calvin. I have no doubt that you would give it your entire effort to supervise your sister, even forgoing some of your leisure time for her benefit. I can tell that is just the kind of loving and considerate brother you are,” Mr. Neff praised Calvin much to his sister’s disappointment.

Calvin was quite flattered and as curious as his father about what Ian was going to recommend for his sister.

“I would start with three to four bare bottom hours of practice, including during meals and have your wife place Melanie on a diet to reduce the size of her substantially jiggly and under-toned fatty fundament. It’s not only a health risk for her and unattractive to a future husband but that extra padding is preventing her from getting the full lesson from any paddlings Melanie may receive. May I?” he asked as he walked over to where Melanie stood with her back to the room.

“Be my guest,” Mister Carter seemed quite interested in what Ian was going to tell him. “Anytime my daughters need a correction, you always have my permission and gratitude to provide them one.”

“This is not a correction,” Ian said. He told Melanie to remove her panties and bend over with her legs apart. It certainly seemed like one to Melanie as she reluctantly complied with her instructions and pouted.

“Do you even feel this?” he smacked her ass hard once she was bent over resting her palms on the flesh just above her knees and exposing her backside to the room.

“Of course,” she said after he delivered a hand spank with practiced precision.

“I had to demonstrate mastery of delivering thousands of spankings to young women to receive my teaching certificate and I can assure you that the torque I applied should have made her react far differently,” he said before looking down at Melanie’s big butt and thanking her for helping him demonstrate. “You may remain that way for now.”

Ian took a few steps toward the other men and said, “Now, Calvin. Take a good look at your sister’s two fat, chubby ass cheeks, and the pink hole in the center. Go up and have a good look.”

“I can see it from here,” Calvin had no interest in his sister’s ass, but his friends were enjoying the view, including her wet pussy from this angle because her pubic hair was not covering the labia.

“Please get close enough that you can smell how excited your sister is right now.”

“Why would she be excited to get spanked?” Calvin seemed puzzled by the very thought because his definition of excitement was over a new John Wayne action-adventure movie or going on a thrill ride at Fort Gilead. Melanie knew exactly what kind of excitement she was having and there was nothing she could do to hide it now.

That didn’t stop her from trying by subtly reaching between her legs to try to wipe away some of the dripping, clear liquid.

“Hey, Girls are not allowed to touch their pussies!” Calvin alerted the others. He knew masturbation was strictly forbidden and he assumed any touching at all of that hairy little gash between her legs was masturbation. Melanie froze in place with terror on her face.

“This is exactly why I would be concerned about Melanie having three or four hours alone in the living room without panties. The desire to play with her humongous balloons like they are toys would be strong enough but add to that the holes between her legs and she’d give in to temptation nightly. No one wants a wife that is consumed with her own pleasure.”

“I agree, but we may be able to break your daughter of her nasty habit of self-pleasure through the application of some A.S.S.”

Ian was thrilled to introduce his next acronym. He’d definitely be keeping Melanie’s interview in his documentary after this. A.S.S stands for Aversion, Satiation and Submission.”

Arthur was intrigued by the new acronyms. “I’ve read about this in some husband’s journals.”

“Aversion through pairing an unwanted behavior with an unpleasant stimulus through repetition so the female brain associates the habit with discomfort rather than pleasure.”

Melanie wasn’t very book-smart, but she didn’t like the sound of that.

Calvin on the other hand, had already cracked the other two terms in the acronym. “Satiation must be providing so much of the reinforcing stimulus that it passes the point of satisfaction and becomes like smelling my sister’s ASS!”

The men chuckled, and Ian confirmed for him that was the general idea.

“Do you think aversion saturation or whatever the heck it is would help me quit smoking?” Lucky was a layman and had no idea what any of the technical jargon meant.

“Why in the world would you want to quit smoking, Lucky? It’s the healthiest thing a man can do,” Arthur asked quite seriously. It was 1959 and the tobacco companies had convinced people it was good for them.

“We can discuss your habits later, Lucky,” Ian continued that the final S was the most important because it stood for submission which was the end goal. “The submissive wife is a happy wife, because the husband has a happy life.”

It was another quote from his father’s book. This time it was from a “A young Man’s Primer on women’s anatomy and queer manner.”

The book was required reading for all men once they reached high school age.

“Do you want to become a juicy, unmarriable trollop that can’t resist the urge to dip her fingers and anything else that strikes her fancy into one of her holes strictly for her own pleasure as the mood strikes?” Arthur asked his daughter.

“No, Daddy!” Melanie bought into the modern science and philosophy of domestic bliss and happy housewives just like most women in America did. They reinforced it through peer pressure with one another far more than men did.

“Good, because I love you too much not to follow through with whatever Mister Neff wants you to do. Are you going to be a good daughter and do your best to conduct yourself on the honor system in the living room without constant supervision?”

Melanie was a simple girl, and she believed the best thing that simple girls like her could do was please their fathers because that meant they were good daughters. She also loved playing with herself and having sex with boys in the backseat of cars, and she knew she couldn’t easily resist temptation when it came her way despite her strong desire to be a good girl.

“I don’t know what I have to do, yet,” she answered as honestly as she could. She was nervous and deeply humiliated as the camera rolled and drank in her delightfully chubby ass.

Melanie’s tone expressed doubt and skepticism, and her father found that reassuring because it meant his daughter wasn’t just offering up false promises. He nodded approvingly toward Mister Neff to suggest he demonstrate his idea.

“Melanie, I want you to take this finger,” he held up his pointer finger and suggested she put her own into her mouth.

The cute, big breasted girl was only too happy to oblige but concerned that there had to be more to this request that she wasn’t going to like.

“Slip it in further, get the entire finger good and wet with your saliva,” he encouraged.

At first, Melanie thought he meant to gag her with her finger the way some of her suitors had done by pushing their penis down her throat until she nearly choked on it. She obliged him gently touching the tip of her tonsils and then he told her to remove the finger and bring it to her side.

“I have to remain bent over?” she asked while facing away from the men and sticking her bare bottom out.

“You only have to do what I say. Do nothing else,” Ian instructed her to take the same pointer finger on the other hand and do the same thing.

Arthur and Calvin assumed that Melanie would have to alternate sucking her fingers, but that wasn’t Ian’s plan at all.

Once Melanie had her other finger in her throat, he told her to take the first finger that was still wet with her saliva and place it at the tip of her anus.

“My what?”

“Don’t you remember the ABC’s of the women’s body from anatomy class?” Ian asked with disappointment.

“Oh, Anus, Breasts, Clit?” Calvin happily answered the question and for bonus points he added a popular variation for advanced classes on female dynamics and anatomy, “Asshole, Boobs and Cunt!”

Very good, Calvin,” Ian helped Melanie place the tip of her finger on the outside of the rim of her anus and pushed her head down further so that she had to bend her knees and squat a little deeper. “Do you know A.C.T?” Ian probed.

[[[ image 01_abc.png goes here centered ]]]

“No,” Calvin admitted. “I assume it’s Ass, Cunt and Tits?”

“Close, it’s something I’ll teach when you are in my class next term. I expect to see you sign up! You are a promising student,” he said to Calvin. It filled the young man and his father would pride, but waves of jealousy wafted through Melanie.

She was considered a good girl, and even a Girlwonder when Mr. Neff arrived, but now he was showing her father and brother how to make her fat ass disappear, shake one tit at a time on command, and keep her from compulsively sucking her fingers.

“Melanie, be a good a girl, and slide the tip of your finger into your butthole until you get to the first knuckle.”

As humiliating as that sounded, Melanie felt soothed at the mention of being a good girl. She didn’t feel like she was thought of as one at the moment and needed reassurance. “Am I being punished?” she whined. She was no stranger to putting a finger in her butt. Typically, her mother made her jam her thumb up there when she caught her being idle or leaving her finger in her mouth. She’d always afforded her the dignity of standing with her back to the room while she did it.

They could hear the crinkling of moist juices as the finger plunged into her anus.

“Very good, Melanie,” Ian assured her. She had barely made a face of discomfort. Melanie’s reaction to be called a good girl was to open her mouth and smile eagerly.

“Earlier, you told the viewers what the three uses for a girl’s ass were. Do you remember them?”

“Sure, sitting down, going poopie, and as something to use to punish us with.”

“Well, you’ve learned a fourth use for that mysterious hole,” Ian said. Arthur was about to stop him.

They had decided not to teach their daughters about anal sex until their wedding nights for fear that both of them might use that knowledge to be even more promiscuous than they were as a means to avoid pregnancy.

“You were born with a very useful, multi-purpose hole that does much more than produce rude noises and smells, Melanie,” he lectured as he admired how she managed to get the finger all the way into her anus. “Its fourth use is to help train you to be a better wife!”

How so?” she asked brightly.

“Anytime you speak out of turn or put your finger in your mouth I want you to associate it with your practice in the living room. Unless your mother or father have some special instructions, I want you to strip down and come to this spot in the living room. This will be your spot right here in front of the comfy chairs and coffee table,” he indicated where she was standing.

“You will strip, fold your clothes neatly, and lick both fingers just as I showed you. You’ll get them both wet and then slide one into your anus and the other goes in your mouth just like you have now. Then you will begin jiggling your tits and jumping up down, while jiggling your butt cheeks back and forth.”

“How does this make me a better wife? Do I have to do this for my husband?” she asked. Her pussy began to dribble and get soaked, involuntarily and she felt her cheeks turn deep crimson because everyone around her could see what appeared to be clear maple syrup starting to drip from her pussy lips.

“You might if he asks you to, but don’t worry your pretty little head about the details of how it works. You don’t ask how a washing machine cleans clothes do you?”

“No,” she admitted. It was a wonder of modern innovation that took the drudgery out of washing clothes from 22 hours and reduced it to only 17 hours.

“It churns the water. I want you to use your finger in your anus like it’s a butter churn, pull it up but not out, and push it all the way to the knuckle.”

“A BUTT-er churn,” one of Calvin’s friends laughed at his own joke but the others including Calvin ignored him.

“Melanie, your sphincter is the washing machine. All your nasty thoughts and behaviors are the dirt and you are washing it away. You’ll keep up a steady pace, never stopping. You just jiggle and wiggle like that, and soon you will have a toned bottom, and you will break your nasty habit of talking out of turn and inserting your finger in your mouth because you will have applied the principles of A.S.S. to your condition to keep you in line and make you a better wife for your future husband!”

“Gosh!” Melanie wasn’t sure if she liked any of this, but she was strangely happy that Mister Neff had expressed so much concern for her.

“Now, do you think you have the willpower not to extend the other fingers on the hand between your legs into your twat?”

She swallowed hard as if swallowing her humiliation. She hadn’t even realized her pussy lips were spread and on display, or that she had three more fingers that were perfectly positioned to finger fuck herself anytime she wanted. “Sure, yes! I can definitely do this,” she said enthusiastically.

She’d have to humiliate herself in the living room, but at least she’d be able to slip some fingers in whenever the others were distracted. Even the finger she was using to massage her asshole was starting to make her pussy lips tingle.

“She’s just happy because she gets out of doing chores while mom and Claire have to do them all,” Calvin theorized. Melanie hadn’t even thought of that benefit, but despite the humiliation, the tedious nature of her chores and yardwork could made her prefer the daily practice drills in the living room.

[[[ image 01_yard.png goes here centered ]]]

You wanted to see me jiggle one boob. I’ll practice and practice, Calvin!” she promised. She’d have to practice jiggling until her father decided she’d had enough of it. She didn’t question his authority to tell her to practice. It was like a natural law of mother nature to her. She had also learned the hard way many years ago that it was best to smile and obey when her daddy gave her something to do.

“Fine, Dad doesn’t think I will stick with it, but I’ll sit in here and make sure you don’t get up to any funny business or take little breaks!” Calvin said.

Melanie’s shoulders tensed. She hadn’t expected her brother to do that. “Dad said you can’t do that!”

“No, I didn’t say he can’t sit in the living room, Melanie,” Arthur sounded perturbed. “Son, I appreciate what you want to do, but you'll be married one day soon and have a wife of your own. Do you really think after a few days of watching your sister’s version of a Howdy Doody puppet show that you are going to enjoy it?”

“I'm afraid we may be using A.S.S on you,” Ian explained that the constant repetition might make him inclined not to want to discipline his own wife and daughters later in life.

“I’ll cross that bridge when I cross it. I love my sister and this will break some of her dirty habits and make her a better wife one day. How long do you think it will take? A week? Two weeks?”

Melanie gulped audibly at the thought, but two weeks might go by quickly. She’d have to ask some of the boys she knew to stop coming over until she was finished. She was delighted to hear her brother say that he loved her, and she loved him right back. It would still feel deeply humiliating to practice in front of him every day.

“Actually, with an ass just as flabby as her habits are nasty, probably until the day before her wedding,” Ian said that it could take several years.

Calvin thought about that and how it might impact his plans to enlist in the military. “She'll certainly fail if nobody watches over her.”

Arthur acknowledged his son’s commitment and asked, “What will you do if your sister talks out of turn or stops practice to take a break?”

“I am not allowed to discipline Melanie, so I’d come and tell you or mom and you could handle it. I could keep a notebook of infractions.”

“I don’t want to be constantly interrupted in my study,” Arthur decided. Calvin had another ready solution to that but before he could respond, “Your sister’s butt is very flabby and it’s not likely you have the arm strength to discipline her properly anyway.”

Calvin was disappointed and wanted to say that he did but he knew his father and Mister Neff were much stronger than he was.

“You’ll need to start with a ruler until you can heft a wooden paddle, because the flat of your palm will wear out before your sister’s resolve. Trust me, I realize now the futility of open hand spanking your sister.”

Calvin’s mouth dropped open in grateful surprise that his father trusted him to discipline his sister. Melanie sucked her finger harder, and used the one in her ass just a little bit harder like a piston increasing the velocity of the engine.

“If I discover you are punishing her unfairly or just to impress your friends then I’ll restrict your use of the ruler!” Arthur said firmly, but Calvin had no intention of being unfair.

“I am excited to learn how to discipline a girl but to be honest I am sure that Melanie will give me plenty of reasons to discipline her that I won’t need to make any up!”

Arthur was glad that his son understood that the authority he had been given was a responsibility. “I learned on my sister and it’s a sister's duty to help her brother grow into a man. After dinner, I’ll show you a few techniques that will get your sister's attention.”

“I won’t do anything wrong, I promise,” Melanie spoke despite having her finger in her mouth, and spit dribbled down her chin.

“These will be a demonstration, not a real punishment. You don’t want your brother punishing you too hard or too softly that it doesn’t have the appropriate impact do you? That would only make you even more naughty and require even more practice in the living room.”

“No, I don’t want that,” Melanie admitted with a shameful pout.

“Dad, what if I want to punish Melanie without a ruler?” Calvin asked.

“I’ve already said that your hand is going to be ineffective against her flabby butt, and the paddles are going to be heavy for you,” Arthur was confused.

“I may not be able to get through to Melanie by spanking her on the bottom but I could make her stand in the front window and practice if she’s particularly naughty.”

“I think the neighbors might find that offensive, son, and I wouldn’t consider that a punishment. That would just be showing off your sister,” Arthur decided.

Calvin shrugged that he didn’t want to have to always use pain as a means to get his sister to behave.

“Rewards can work but studies show that most women will do the minimum to get what they want, and then revert to the bad behavior,” Ian explained.

“I know that,” Calvin said. “At school, they haven’t been relying on corporal punishment. They use finger stocks to tie girls' fingers together when they can’t keep their hands off of mirrors and lipsticks in class, and gag them when they won’t stop gossiping. They say it’s far more humane to humiliate them than spank them.”

“It’s very humane to spank a girl,” Arthur took umbrage with that statement. He grew up with domestic discipline as a tradition in his household and had instilled it in his family as well. “Spare the rod and spoil the girl! Parents who won’t spank their brats when they misbehave may think they are doing them a favor, but it will only lead to disrespect, mischief, mayhem.”

“I know that Dad, I am sorry! I am grateful you’ll let me use a ruler on Melanie when she deserves it. Does that apply just when she is practicing or all the time?”

“Why would I only trust you to make an important decision about your sister only when she is practicing and no other time, Son?” Arthur placed a proud hand on his shoulder. “Obviously, I am not saying that you can’t put your sister in the window or gag her. They have these wonderful new hush balls downtown that come in different flavors that I’ve been meaning to pick up for her and Claire. I just mean those aren’t traditional punishments. I would see that more as an extension of her training to be a good wife.”

Calvin’s surprise was hard to contain but he managed to only arch a curious eyebrow.

“If you want your sister to change positions or stand in the window with the curtains open to practice then I don’t see that as a variation of punishment. That’s more of a variation to help you keep from getting bored staring at her doing this for hours.”

The men looked down and watched Melanie steadily fingering her butt while sucking her finger.

“Do an experiment one day,” Arthur suggested. “Tell your sister to write 500 times that she won’t do something and see if it has any impact at all. The kinds of consequences that might be meaningful to a male won’t do much to a female. You have to make it sting and you have to make it real. I don’t want to see bruises or marks on your sister other than a few black and blues. Those are unavoidable but have I ever told you that you couldn’t tell your sister to take her tits out when your friends are over?”

“No,” Calvin said. He didn’t consider that to be a special privilege because he took it for granted and most guys his age could insist their sisters show their tits to their friends.

“She’s just a girl, if you want her to pick something up for you or bring you a soda, have you ever needed to ask me or your mother if you could tell your sisters to bring you something from your room or the kitchen?”

“No,” Calvin replied with an understanding smile.

“Can I gag Claire as well?” he asked excitedly.

“You are going to be very busy watching over your older sister. Don’t bite off more than you can chew, son. Obviously, if Claire’s motormouth is running then you could stuff a sock in it. I’ll buy some Hush balls and we can try them out this weekend. I don’t see why anything you could require of Melanie, you couldn’t require of Claire. If she doesn’t get home for dinner on time tonight, it may not hurt to have her do some living room finger practice as well.”

“Can I tell Claire to practice in the living room?”

“Check with me or your mom, because with Melanie practicing daily, there are chores that need to be performed, but it won’t hurt her to do this at least once in a while.”

“Dinner is ready,” Mrs. Carter walked into the living room still dressed perfectly in her apron, and shirtwaist dress with heels. “Oh my, is this necessary?” she was shocked to see her daughter bent over at the waist, one finger deep in her mouth and one finger pushing in and out of her anus.

“Yes, Melanie will be practicing this activity daily to reduce the size of her flabby ass, and break her naughty habit of sucking her fingers,” Arthur quickly recapped it while the family adjourned to the dinner table.

The plates were all set, but the one for Melanie would have to wait, since she was expected to waddle behind the others and continue during dinner in the kitchen. Calvin’s friends sat at the table so they could watch the girl perform during dinner as well.

Mrs. Carter wasn’t thrilled about it, but she understood the purpose behind the activity. She served up the food while her daughter stuck her finger down her throat and fingered her butthole and observed the dinner.

Ian and Lucky were gracious dinner guests and the conversation was light.

“May I ask a question?” Melanie pouted when there was a lull in the conversation.

Arthur nodded.

“Do I get to eat dinner?”

“Don’t be silly dear. We would NEVER starve you,” Arthur was amused not offended by the question. “You need to lose a little weight so you won’t be dining with the family. You’ll practice and then your mother can prepare some leftovers for you to eat quickly. We’ll reduce your portions until your butt is a little more dainty and less jiggy.”

Melanie loved to eat and the food smelled really good. “It’s just that….” She was reluctant to complain. “Watching you all eat and talk about me, but not including me in the conversation is humiliating and makes me feel left out.”

“We wouldn’t want that,” Arthur’s tone was still amusement. He didn’t think waiting to eat a little while or having to practice was anything but an inconvenience for his daughter.

“Dad, I agree with Melanie. It’s got to be embarrassing to play with her butthole and she’s not even been jiggling her tits very much while she watches eat these delicious fried pork chops with apple sauce. Those are your favorite aren’t they, sis?”

“Yes,” she smiled brightly. She really did want some pork chops.

Arthur was starting to have doubts about asking his son to supervise his daughter during her jiggle practice.

“How about we allow Melanie to take her finger out of her butt just for a few minutes, Dad?”

Arthur was about to tell him no, but the clever lad hadn’t finished his recommendation. Melanie’s smile brightened as straightened her body but hesitated to remove her fingers.

“Melanie, since you are feeling left out and need some attention, start doing jumping jacks and jumping real high. If you do a good job, I’ll slice off a few pieces of my pork chop and feed them to you.”

“I am not a dog to be fed at the table, Calvin,” Melanie pouted.

“Suit yourself,” Calvin took a bite of the pork chop and complimented his mother and how she had outdone herself.

Arthur was quietly thrilled that his son had tried to convince his sister to practice by motivating her with a reward even though she refused.

“Fine, but I am not going to crawl over there like a puppy dog and take the food out of your hand!” Melanie couldn’t resist the offer and she was already naked anyway.

She began performing a lively set of jumping jacks that excited the entire table and brought smiles to everyone’s faces. Lucky quietly got it all on film. Her huge tits bounced so high that they almost hit her in the eye.

Arthur leaned back and admired how things were working at, as everybody else laughed at Melanie’s naked jumping, he watched Calvin.

“Good job!” he complimented her. Melanie like her sister thrived on attention and being told she was a good girl. “Here sis,” he held up a piece of pork chop and indicated she should open her mouth.

“Wider,” he insisted as he held up the morsel and teased his hungry sister with it.

She didn’t want him to throw the pork chop morsel at first, and she was already deeply ashamed she was jumping up and down in the kitchen but she opened her mouth as wide as she could.

[[[ image 02_slobber.png goes here centered ]]]

Despite Melanie’s earlier reluctance to humiliate herself like this, once Lucky started chanting and urging Melanie on, the others joined in and she grew increasingly enthusiastic.

“Do you want it, sis?”

“YES!” she cried out for the scrap of pork her brother wanted to throw in her mouth from the table.

“How bad?”

“REAL bad!” she answered instinctively.

“Are you going to be a good sister?”

“ALWAYS!”

“The BEST sister?” he teased.

“Please, just throw it,” she insisted and started to close her mouth again.

“Keep your mouth nice and wide so I can hit the target!”

“You’ll never hit my mouth from there……” Melanie was mid sentence when the crispy pork nibble sailed through the air and -bloop- he tossed the fried bit of pork right into his sister’s big wide-open mouth. “Great catch!” he gushed as his sister chewed it up. It was just as tasty as she hoped and now she wanted more.

“Great throw, son!” Arthur was overwhelmed with joy.

Belinda was glad that her husband was proud of his son. She was thankful Mister Neff had stopped by this afternoon because otherwise none of this might have happened.

Melanie was getting winded, and only one more bit of pork made it into her mouth. The other two bounced off her tits on to the floor. Her mother retrieved them and saved them for her to eat after dinner.

“Okay, sis, go back to jiggling tits, with your finger in mouth and your toher finger in your butt,” Calvin decided.

She had barely caught her breath when she bent over and to continue her practice and realized she had forgotten what finger she had in her butt originally. “Calvin, since you are going to supervise me. Do you remember which one was in my pooper?”

“What does it matter? Just put them both in your mouth and clean them off with your slobber,” he shrugged.

“Good thinking,” Melanie smiled dumbly and inserted both fingers down her throat to clean them off. “I wouldn’t want to have the one I had up my butt in my mouth….” Her voice trailed off as she realized she had just washed them both with her mouth and one of them must have been in her ass.

“Oh well,” she shrugged and tried not to think about it too much. That was easy for her.

“I thought this might disrupt dinner, but from now on I’d like you to limit how often you try to motivate your sister with food. Keep it to just once during dinner, and no cookies, okay, Champ?” Arthur smiled at his son and tussled his hair.

“I suppose this means no more gentleman callers for Melanie on the weekends,” she surmised.

“That would be up to Calvin. He’s agreed to supervise and he’ll be giving her short breaks and punishing her when she loses focus or is tempted to try to play with herself.”

“Calvin, that’s quite an undertaking, are you sure you are up for it?” she asked him.

“Sure, and for Claire as well when she needs some practice,” Calvin said proudly of his twin sister.

“She’s late for dinner and hasn’t called, so I am sure she’ll get her chance to practice when she walks through the front door,” Belinda nodded in agreement that the practice would serve as a reminder to come home on time.

Even though it was really up to the boy she was with to drive her back home on time.

“Yes, from now on I’d like Melanie and Claire to practice during dinner and continue for about an hour before bed,” Arthur said to his son, although his wife thought he was talking to her.

“That might prove rather distracting to our dinner guests,” Mrs. Carter was still concerned about the base nature of her daughter’s performance and how it seemed despite the discomfort and humiliation she was enjoying it on some level. Melanie’s lips were parted slightly, her face was flushed and her breathing had intensified.

“It depends. We don’t entertain that often. If it’s just Calvin’s friends or mine, then the show will carry on. The three of you can practice together tonight,” Arthur said calmly which caught his wife completely off guard.

“Then in the future, only once all your chores are all done, and the last dish is dried and put away after supper is over you'll spend an hour with the girls before bed setting a proper example for them.”

The blood drained from Belinda’s pretty face, but it still turned bright red anyway. “I don’t have a nasty habit of sucking my finger,” she said politely. She had never been punished or trained out in the open around the house.

Melanie was slightly amused by her mother’s discomfort, perhaps more than anyone else at the table.

“You do have a fat bottom though, and this will make you a better wife. You don’t expect the girls to do something you wouldn't do, would you?” Arthur asked his wife an impossible to answer question.

“It’s just that should we really ask my son to help me lose weight like that, dear?” she questioned her husband.

“It looks like we have another S.O.W, raising a S.O.W,” Ian observed politely . Belinda took offense to the comment immediately.

“Mr. Neff just means that you are behaving like a S.O.W, and it’s rubbing off on my sisters,” Calvin spoke up. “A S.O.W. exhibits selfish stubbornness and prioritizes her comfort and modesty over her needs. She wouldn’t participate in training unless it suited her even when her husband tells her, too.”

“But,” Belinda tried to interrupt.

Calvin kept right on talking over his mother while the camera caught the family dinner for posterity and recorded it. “The female that exhibits obnoxious overthinking and questioning the value and wisdom of her husband’s decisions for the family.”

“Well, I am not trying to do that, but,” Belinda insisted but he didn’t listen and kept right on speaking.

“Which leads to wasteful whining, and discourteously speaking over a male when he is trying to explain something to her in even terms a woman can understand,” Calvin had heard his father say things like that to his mother before but he’d never dared.

His mother’s face began to turn bright red, and Calvin was concerned that wasn’t embarrassment, it was rage about to boil over. He was worried he’d pushed his luck with his mother, and she wasn’t going to tolerate that kind of talk from him.

“Now, Calvin,” Arthur held up a finger and Calvin froze. He was about to apologize but his father was speaking and he knew better than to talk over him right then. His sister snickered and stopped playing with her butthole because near the dinner table because she assumed all eyes were on him and it was getting increasingly sore and dry.

His mother’s rage subsided. She trusted that her husband would handle Calvin, and he did.

“What did you do wrong, just now?”

“Talked down to my mother?”

“No, something else, something much worse,” Arthur said.

“Talked over her when she tried to interject?”

“No, I am starting to see where your sister gets her uppity attitude and the thought she can speak over us when we are talking,” Arthur glared at his wife and Belinda tucked her head in the fridge to avoid his gaze.

“I am going to warn you right now. I will be very disappointed in you if you go easy on your mom and let her get away with things you wouldn’t allow Claire or Melanie to do. If you want to discipline them, then you’ll hold your mom to the same standard. What should you have done?”

“Explained to her what she did wrong, and the M.O.M protocol,” Calvin stammered nervously.

“Which says?”

“It stands for Must Obey Men,” Calvin explained one of the most commonly used acronyms in use at that time. Belinda had used it earlier that afternoon when Ian arrived to explain to Belinda why she had to obey him.

“Mom, get a bar of soap, and put it in your mouth, right now,” he said nervously.

“Who?” Arthur asked. “If you are going to discipline your mother, then address by her first name so that she understands you aren’t asking. You are telling her.”

Belinda obediently took a bar of soap that was normally reserved for washing hands and the mouths of her daughter and for the first time in many years put it in her mouth to suck on the acrid soap bubbles.


Belinda felt her butthole pucker as she finished clearing the table and prepared some leftovers for Melanie to eat later and tried to remain stoically calm as the soap dripped down her chin.

“Now, obviously in normal polite conversation and certainly on your mother’s birthday and Mother’s day it would be considerate of you not to address her as Belinda, but during training it will help you to remove the illusion that she is above you in the hierarchy. There is no Mrs. Carter, when Belinda is being trained,” Arthur explained to his son’s friends adding “Belinda will be fine if you are here while she’s training with the girls.”


Calvin’s friends were impressed and a little jealous.

“….And, Calvin. When I say that you should supervise the girls practice after dinner for an hour, I am not going to quibble if it’s an hour and a half or an hour and fifteen minutes. The timer begins the moment Belinda joins your sisters. If you let them finish even one minute before the end of the hour that OR you go over two hours then you and I are going to talk about what it means to have authority.”

“Absolutely, Dad!”

Now, obviously if your mom wants to check your homework, or asks you politely to punish your sisters then I want you to respect her wishes. She’s been disciplining them, and if she would rather carry it out herself, then I want you to permit that. You should address her as mom, to be polite.”

Yes, Dad!”

I don’t want to come home and see that you’ve gagged her just because I let you do it anytime you want with your sisters. She keeps the house running like a well-oiled machine and she needs to be able to speak.”

I understand, Dad!”

You can gag her for at most fifteen minutes and only if she starts yammering on with her friends gossiping or nagging you. It’s a nasty habit of hers but she can’t help it. Her father never broke her of that habit and she picked it up from your grandmother.”

Belinda looked down at her feet in shame. It was true that she was a hopeless gossip, but she’d only ever been gagged in private or when he wasn’t home. Soap began to run down her chin and dribble down her cleavage.

“Belinda, Freshen Mister Neff and Lucky’s coffee and then get undressed. I’ll demonstrate some punishments on you and Melanie and then we’ll actually punish Claire when she gets home,” Arthur said to his wife. He turned to Ian and asked, “Maybe you have some remedy for that, Mister Neff?”

I do, but I have to get Lucky home, and I have a big day tomorrow. I’ll stop by in a few days and check on your progress with Calvin and the girls,” Neff politely excused himself and offered Calvin a nod of quiet recognition that he’d finally been seen as a man in the eyes of his father and that was a good thing.

“I’ll need the coffee,” Arthur took a sip as his wife undressed. “I am going to stay up and wait for Claire. I was only going to expect her to practice during dinner and for an hour after, since she doesn’t have as big of a butt as the two of you,” he said. “Belinda. You’ll need to do all the household chores from now on, because both girls are going to practice jiggling their tits every day from the time they get home through dinner right up until bed time.”

“Yes, dear,” Belinda answered with grace and poise as she licked her finger and with practiced precision inserted it into her own anus. “Do you think a week would be long enough to teach Claire the value of punctuality?” she sked as she inserted her other pointer finger into her mouth and bent over next to Melanie.

“Let’s see how it feels after the first month and if the three of you can jiggle one tit at a time, I’ll see about giving you Sunday dinners off from your training before bed. How is that dear?”

Belinda couldn’t look up. She knew Lucky was still filming all over this. She smiled and said that if he thought that was best then it would be best.

“Good girl,” Arthur smiled.

“Hey Dad,” Calvin had one more bright idea to share.

“Yes, Son?”

“I’d be willing to get up an hour early before school and supervise the girls practice.”

Belinda and her daughter looked at each other with trepidation.

“That’s very generous of you son, but your mom has to make breakfast for the family and the girls have morning chores.”

“I didn’t think of that, Dad!”

“That’s because women have to be quiet about them in the morning or they’ll disturb our sleep. Tell you what, tomorrow morning see if they can jiggle with a finger in their butts and do their chores one handed. If that works, we’ll try it out for a week. What do you say, Champ?”


“Thanks, Dad!”

“No, Thank YOU, son!”


I will end the featurette here. I have a few other ideas for similar stories, but not sure if it was enjoyable or not.

[EddieDavidson]

Some images



This next one was in the style of all those old 50s fundamentals of fundament type sexual instruction manuals.







should be a name for the one finger down the throat, the other up the pooper position.



this one is true

[EddieDavidson]

I may do another one of these, but it would be standalone. I was also thinking of doing a 1970s "Look to tomorrow" for Claire and Melanie 20 years in the future, when her son Mark's birthday comes along. The tradition is birthday boy is a "Handprince"

What's a handprince? asking that question earns a slap on the ass (with a hand print) . It's an honorary judge for the day, you get to pick all the rainy day board games.

Poor Pussy was one of the ones I used to play, and Mother MAy I. I have fond memories of that with my babysitter because in many ways she truly was a bit of a domme. It wasn't sexual but control/being the boss was important to her.