And Claire’s dad interrupted. “No, there’s really not!” He chuckled. “You can punish her as you see fit. Your house, your rules. It doesn’t matter to me how modern or old school your methods may be. Claire’s been through some really fun times at some houses, you won’t be hitting her with anything she can’t handle.”
Slowly Dan allowed the word “Okay” to come from his mouth.
—
Dan and Anne declared to the girls that they were both responsible, and so both would receive the punishment. Claire cried and said “Okaaaay” through her tears. Isabella just cried.
Claire watched Isabella for cues. Isabella stood up, pulled her skirt down, and her underwear off. “I’m sorry Claire,” she wailed, “it has to be bare bottom. You didn’t know!” Claire answered, “It’s okay,” not sounding like it was okay. Isabella then put her hands on the coffee table, sticking her ass out and up.
Anne nodded at Claire, “You do the same, next to Isabella, and we’ll administer the punishments simultaneously.”
Claire sniffled, “Yes ma’am,” as she removed the bottom half of her school uniform, revealing her butt was already lightly bruised, and took her place next to Isabella. She put her hand on Isabella’s, and the parents did not object.
It was to be fifteen swats with the belt for the undone dishes. (This was more than last time but she’d forgotten a few times since then, so they had increased the number of swats. Temporarily of course.) And added to that would be five more for the surreptitious hand holding while they were on their knees.
For making Anne late to work–five more. For making Dan late to work–five more. For making Isabella late to school–five more. For making Claire late to school–five more.
Forty swats in all. The girls looked sick to their stomachs.
Each parent pulled off their belt. The girls had been next to each other, but logistically this just didn’t work. The parents had the girls move to the ends of the coffee table. Anne took on Claire with her belt, and Dan took on Isabella.
Isabella suddenly said, just before they began, “Wait, oh no Claire!”
Almost sounding annoyed, ready to get this over with, Claire yelled “What?”
“I forgot to tell you something!”
Anne yelled, “Silence Isabella!”
Isabella silenced herself.
“That was an attempt to delay punishment. Five more swats.” The girls yelled helplessly, “Noooo I’m sorryyyy!” as the parents began.
As always, neither parent held back. The girls had already been crying at the sudden addition of five swats, so from the first swat onwards each was positively wailing. The wails grew to panicked near screams by the fifteenth, and they weren’t even halfway through.
Dan took in the sight of his lovely daughter’s bruising buttocks, her friend (and probably lover)’s weeping face before him, and his wonderful wife, putting her all into taking in every moment of the incredible experience she’d found herself in the middle of. Seeing his wife’s barely hidden pleasure as she carefully aimed each swat and drank in the resulting vision and sounds, turned him on almost as much as the wiggling and wavering asses of the beautiful girls they were hitting together.
They reached forty, and Claire started to get up, crying through closed lips, her tears dripping shamelessly onto the table.
“Back in position, Claire,” said Anne.
Claire asked, “What? Whyyyy?” crying anew.
Isabella yelled. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t tell you! You didn’t know!”
The parents switched places. The two agonized girls were only halfway through the ordeal.
—
After eighty swats Dan couldn’t imagine what it felt like for the girls to sit in the back seat of Anne’s car, blubbering in each other’s arms. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like for Anne. Would she start to feel guilt, heartbreak? Would she look back at the crying girls in their cute little uniforms, imagining their bruised asses, feeling a twinge of pleasure? A combination of both?
He knew how he himself felt. After jacking off, anyway, he felt absolutely awful. In the moment it had been fun. But after it was over, as he came down from the experience, he felt more and more guilt.
He made himself get through his workday, and came back home, pondering how to address this with Anne. With Isabella.
As usual, he was at his place on the couch habitually watching the news when Isabella came home. And there with her, again, was Claire. The two girls walked in quietly. “H… Hi dad,” said Isabella. “Yeah uh hi Mr. Foster,” echoed Claire.
He froze up, feeling he should say more than this: “Hello girls.” But he didn’t.
Isabella looked at Claire then said carefully “I’m going to uh do the dishes now,” and Claire muttered, and chuckled darkly. “I’ll bet.”
Isabella paused. “So uh, another weird thing about my house I guess.”
Dan knew what she was about to say. It was his turn to blush, amazingly after what he’d done to the girls this morning.
Isabella pulled off her shirt. “I have to do the dishes naked.”
“Your family might be crazier than mine.” Claire was laughing, but it was a laugh like someone who is laughing at how awful a joke is, not at the joke itself.
“I know,” said Isabella, finishing getting naked, “It started as a punishment I think? But just became kind of the thing.”
“Yeah I know how that goes.”
Dan wondered what she meant by that, though he had some idea.
Isabella turned around, her incredibly darkly bruised ass now visible to all. She walked into the kitchen.
“Well uh,” said Claire. “Can I I guess, help?”
“Of course,” said Isabella.
“Okay…” said Claire. She then turned to look at Dan. Then back to Isabella. Then at Isabella’s clothes. Then she glanced at Dan, and began unbuttoning her shirt. She didn’t look at him again, but she also didn’t stop.
—
Dan never found a moment that evening to address the events of that morning, not that he had any idea how that could go anyway.
The girls finished the dishes, both nude, their obscenely bruised butts facing him the whole time, occasionally giggling and splashing each other–though Isabella carefully cleaned up any mess they made. She obviously did not want a repeat of the morning any time soon.
Dan just kept watching TV and watching them.
When they were finished, they came back to the living room, both girls now fully frontally visible to him in their nudity. He was sad Anne was missing this.
Isabella started to lean down for her clothes, then seemed to have a better idea. “Hey Claire, she said, “I think I’m just going to throw these in the wash and go upstairs, you want me to wash yours too?”
Claire glanced up at her. “Uh sure?”
“Okay, just leave your clothes there I’ll get them in a sec. Daddy?” she now said approaching him.
“Yes?” She obviously didn’t care about him seeing her naked, he saw her all the time. Somehow under the circumstances, for some reason, he was having a hard time looking directly at her.
“Claire and I are going to go upstairs now, can I get a hug and a kiss before I go?”
This was not a thing in their household. She said it like it was some routine thing. “A hug and kiss before you go!” like that was their version of “ta ta!”
But there was no reason to say no, and he never mind hugging her, nor kissing her of course. He reached to her, “Sure sweetie!” He somehow felt more comfortable staring at Claire’s naked body behind his daughter than at his naked daughter herself.
She leaned down for the hug, and embraced him, moving to sit on his leg, straddling it, without missing a beat. She embraced him tightly. He embraced her back. She whispered very quietly into his ear.
“I think Claire fucks her parents too.”
He looked up in surprise, checking to see if Claire had heard. She had not, she was just smiling blandly watching this strange hug. She must be thinking more about how this family is “crazier than her own,” as she had said.
Out loud Isabella now said, “And a kiss?”
“Of course,” he said again, and smooched her on the cheek.
“Dad,” she said sternly, and not jokingly sternly. She leaned in and kissed him on the lips, and then used her lips and tongue to open his mouth. For a moment it felt oddly like an invasion. But he willed that feeling away, and let himself melt into his daughter’s kiss, even as the other girl stood by watching. Claire’s eyes were now widening a bit.
Quietly, as they kissed deeply, Isabella began just barely, just barely, grinding her pussy on Dan’s leg she had straddled.
She disengaged from the kiss and looked him in the eye, “And of course, kiss me in the other place?”
His mind reeled at the possibilities. “The other um what?”
Isabella laughed but maintained her gaze. “Oh Daddy don’t pretend you don’t know,” (He did not), and she took his head in her hand and gently pushed his face into her chest, off center so that his mouth was on her breast, in fact on her nipple.
“Oh,” he said muffled from that position. Then he began kissing Isabella’s nipple.
“Thank you Daddy,” she said sighing. “Your kisses always feel so good Daddy.”
He started to pull back up and she pushed him back in. “Oh don’t stop yet,” and her grinding became harder. “Um Claire?” she said breathlessly.
Claire was blushing deeply, but had simply stood and watched, one arm under her breasts, the other with her hand over her mouth. “Uh yeah Isabella?”
“My Daddy’s kisses feel really good, do you want a quick hug and kiss from him too?”
He couldn’t see anything because his face was pressed up against Isabella’s chest, but he felt it. Claire began to straddle him. “Yeah that sounds nice to be honest.”
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