My half brother
Username: Derry , Dec/8/2005 06:39:25 [-04][new]
My half brother
My name’s Jamie. My dad had always used my full given names Jemimah Primrose. He had always liked me to wear dresses that were just a bit young for my age.
He had such a different attitude to my brother. My brother was called Gene in the US. When dad moved us to England he rapidly insisted on being Eugene. Eugene’s mother had left the scene before I was born. That is why he is my half brother. Dad’s divorce lawyers had been especially harsh on Victoria, who had been the poster girl for a trophy wife.
My mom was different. She still tended to let dad rule the roost but he had to respect her as a businesswoman. Plus my Mom was not willing to challenge Dad on disciplining her step son.
Eugene was, like his mother and in fact his father, rather short and slight. Perhaps his acting out was in part a reaction to that. He wanted to show he could be as bullying and macho as the next hooligan. He could also drink as much.
Now the law in England says you can legally drink at 18. The fact is that my brother, who if anything looked younger than he was, easily bought loads of hard cider from age 15, maybe 14.
Everything suddenly changed just after Christmas. Eugene was 16 and I was 14. Dad was arrested and extradited back to America. Mom had an okay job. But we had to move to a smaller house in our small English town.
Eugene acted out more than ever. He was often drunk. He shouted. He slammed doors. He never did his share of house work. He always said to my mother:
“You’re not my Mom, you can’t tell me what to do.” On other occasions he said
“My REAL Mom would understand.” However perhaps his most frequent response to requests to do chores or his homework or to be minimally polite was:
“I’m 16, I’m NOT a child, don’t treat me like one.”
I adjusted better I feel. I did my share of the chores and continued to get As at school. Mom was so proud of me. My half brother was totally beyond control.
Then something amazing happened. Victoria, Eugene’s mother, traced us. Eugene thought that everything would be okay and his biological mother would also believe “boys will be boys”. His real mother would not let his step mother nag him. He was in for a shock.
Victoria was actually in a difficult spot. She had not married; her partner and he had died leaving her with Roberta, an 18 month old. Victoria was working part time teaching at a local college. She was teaching “Feminist Studies”. She had a particular interest in Victorian feminism, maybe because of her name.
She had read extensively about a proto feminist journal called “The English Woman’s Domestic Journal”. She had noticed something about ways in which boy children were disciplined in some household.
Barbara, my Mom, had perhaps surprisingly found she liked Victoria. It also turned out that Victoria was paying a ridiculous amount of rent. Our two families ended up moving into one house. Victoria was getting more and more embarrassed by the appalling behaviour of her son. She especially disliked his argument that household chores were “girl’s work”. A week before the start of the 6 week summer break from High School Victoria and Barbara told Eugene:
“We’ve decided to be fair to Jamie. She had done your share of the chores for years. So for the next year you will do all the dish washing and other cleaning.”
He refused. He was told he could leave if he wanted to.
After a week he had got fired from the only job he had tried and had annoyed three of his mates who had each thrown him out of their homes where he had tried to bum room and board. He arrived back knocking on the door.
“Gene, you can stay provided you do your share. Of course you are grounded for the rest of the year. But because you have been so lazy and disobedient I have decided to agree that if you are naughty Barbara has my permission to punish you in more traditional ways.”
He was shocked.
“You mean like spank me, but that’s child abuse.”
Victoria looked at her son:
“But you have told us a hundred times that at 16 you are not a child. You can stay in this household if you accept the rules, or you can leave.”
He hesitated for a minute. I think he smelled the meal that Victoria had cooked. Finally he said: “OK!”
At that time I was five foot eight, Eugene Five one and my Mom exactly six foot tall. He was not especially in condition. My mom enjoyed tennis and other exercises. A few years ago I had been overweight. My old clothes would fit around his tummy, although they would be a bit short on him. Then I smiled:
“I have some gifts for my half brother. You said that washing dishes and things like that was ‘girl’s work’, well there’s some more suitable clothing.”
Gene yelled:
“You Bitch.”
Then things happened. There was a brief struggle. However in less than a minute he was across my Mom’s knees. Pants and underwear came down. His struggles and kicks did not help him and made the whole thing even more amusing, at least to me. In 10 seconds he was crying but the hairbrush spanking went on for ten minutes.
Half an hour later there was an amazing scene. Gene was wearing a blue and white jumper style little girl’s dress and blouse which I had worn, at dad’s insistence, aged 11 and thought was 2-3 years too young even then. He also wore Mary Jane shoes and white ankle socks. My half brother then made six efforts to curtsey and said to me
“Ms Jamie, thank you very much for your hand me down clothes. I am sorry I was so rude. Pretty please will you wash my mouth out with soap and spank me.”
A further apron was placed over the 16 year old’s girlish clothes and I made sure that the wash cloth I had was very soapy. Just as he was opening his mouth he got another surprise. We had quietly let in 2 visitors whilst he in Mom’s room being DRESSED.
“And didn’t Gene say YOU were a sissy darling”
Rose said to Aston. Rose was Gene’s VERY Ex girlfriend and Aston had been a victim of his bullying. Now they were a couple.
They watched the mouth soaping. Then they watched as I sat on the couch. My half brother placed himself over my lap and let me lift up the skirt of his childish dress and pull down his frilly panties. I could not hit him as hard as my mother but with the extra humiliation I managed to get real tears. It was VERY pleasing to me.
The next day was Saturday. Mom, my mom, had some work to do. Victoria, Gene’s mom had a request:
“Could you baby sit Eugene? I do not think he can be trusted on his own.”
So I watched and supervised whilst my half brother, wearing an apron and a dress that most self-respecting 8 year old girls would find too juvenile, scrubbed the bathroom and washed the dishes. I told him to do both tasks three times.
“Or would you prefer another trip across my knees and then Barbara’s.”
Victoria took little Roberta with her. She came back:
“I can save money and help the Earth. I bought 2 dozen terry nappies and some pairs of waterproof pants. I think that I will be quite busy so I’ve decided that my son can wash his littlest sister’s underwear.”
I thought that there would be a refusal. There was not.
For the next week I invited lots of friends from school to visit us. They all laughed when they saw my half brother. At this stage he looked especially ridiculous. Although his hair was long it was a mess, not anything any self respecting girl would wear. He also was rather inefficient at shaving and usually had designed stubble.
You could not think he was actually a rather large 8 year old girl. You could not think he was a 14 year old, dressed young. You had to know he was a petticoated boy.
Mary was in my class. Her sister Lucy had suffered a bad fall. Lucy was 8. She was mature for her age and really liked reading. She had hurt both of her hand and would not be able to do many things including turning the pages of a book. At my suggestion Mary bought Barbie comic books, “What Katie did” and “Little Women”.
My brother ended up spending the whole day almost from just after nine to half past seven in the evening reading the most girlish fiction possible out loud. Lucy liked that she had not missed out on the books. She also enjoyed the lad’s humiliation.
Oh he did get four breaks. Two were ten minutes each for food. The other breaks were rather longer. Lucy enjoyed watching his other breaks; he was scrubbing Roberta’s wet and dirty diapers.
My step mother had told me about how much people in the 19th century disapproved of self abuse. We noticed how Eugene stained his sheets and my old nighties every night. Plus quite often he either left puddles in the bathroom or wet the skirts of his new frocks.
In one of the journals there was a solution. The device was made of metal. Aston and Rose were learning to do various kinds of work with plastic. My half brother had to thank Aston for his gift. His mother fitted it. The plastic was well designed to prevent self abuse at night.
“Plus it means you sit down to go *** ***, which is what you would expect for the person doing most ‘girls’ work.”
Barbara, my Mom, had some time off work a week later. She had talked to kids from Gene’s class and some local shopkeepers. In this particular small town there were rather few chain stores and a lot of small stores. Gene had done a lot of stealing and had in other ways behaved badly. Luckily, the bar Gene had mostly used had changed its policies. It aimed to be more family friendly. It had a stricter policy on age issues. Also, it had a little garden, aimed at being suitable for children.
It was time for Eugene’s first trip outside in his new, or rather my hand me down, clothes. Barbara and I both wore pants. I wore high heals. As it happened I am left handed and my mother is right handed. That meant that it was quite easy for each of us to firmly hold one of my half brother’s hands.
Eugene had bought a large number of computer games. The computer shop had a very efficient security system so he had actually paid for them. That same shop had a policy of buying selling some games second hand. We made him sell all those back. He had to tell the store keeper:
“Please give the money to my sister.”
In addition we walked him to a store that bought and sold second hand men’s clothes. We took all his most fashionable clothes and made him sell them.
Mr Baker, the shopkeeper, had heard about my brother’s activities. He had been pre warned of our visit. Somehow he kept a straight face
Then at each shop he had stolen from or been badly behaved at we took him in. On each occasion he first curtsied and then said:
“I am a naughty boy and a thief. I am VERY sorry. Here is some money to pay back.”
I gave him the money on each occasion to repay for the candy and cigarettes he had stolen. Of course all the money came from his things which had earlier been sold.
At about half past eleven we went to the bar Eugene had previously drank at most often. Her curtsied and said:
“I have been a badly behaved child and illegally bought drinks. Please do not serve me alcohol again until my step mother gives permission. This is a picture of what I sometimes look like.”
Then we sat in the garden. The bar did want to reach families. I got a coke. My mom drank orange juice. We bought milk and cookies for Eugene. It was a pint of milk and we made sure he drank it all.
We went to a few other shops and had my brother curtsey, apologise, and reimburse shop keepers he had stolen from,
There was a café particularly fashionable with kids from our school - we ate there. Deborah, another ex girl friend, asked my brother what he was wearing and why. He had been warned of what to say and what would happen if he did not.
“I am wearing hand me down clothes that Jamie wore when she was a kid. I said that house work was ‘girl’s work’ and as I am going to do all the housework for the next year I ought to be suitably dressed.”
Eventually he needed the bathroom. He whispered to my mother.
“Of course you have a tinkle thing so you go to the little boy’s room. Women and girls are entitled to their privacy.”
As he walked towards that room a dozen boys ran ahead of him. I think they used the cubicles. Of course wearing a dress he would have found it hard to use the urinals. The plastic device under his panties meant that he had no choice. We heard lots of loud raucous laughter from the boys’ room.
Victoria remarked that evening:
“You know it is quite bad for CHILDREN to be cooped up. I know Eugene is grounded but under suitable supervision he could go out.”
So for the next few days I took Eugene and Roberta out to the park.
There was a child’s play area popular with mothers of little girls. They had special swings for small children like Roberta. I know she liked that. I was also amused by the number of times Eugene had to explain:
“I am going to do girl’s work for then next year that’s why I’m wearing my sister’s hand me down clothing.”
A nice lady bought ice creams. A vanilla one for Roberta, a chocolate one for me and a strawberry one for Eugene.
“I hate strawberry”
He yelled and threw the ice cream onto the ground. I was angry.
“Eugene, what happens when you are naughty?”
He was confused. Then he realized
“You don’t mean here.”
I asked again
“What happens when Eugene is naughty, or do we go home, talk to Barbara, and come back here tomorrow?”
He whispered
“I get spanked.”
I asked
“What do you say when you need to be spanked?”
He hesitated and then said:
“I was VERY naughty. Pretty please Ms Jamie spank me as hard as you can.”
There were about 10 girls aged 4-10 and 8 mothers watching, as well as little Roberta in her stroller. I found a suitable seat, took the hairbrush from my purse and let 16 year old, who said he was not a child, put himself in the correct position. He let me pull up his skirt, and pull down his panties. I think he may have started crying before the spanking.
He still had hopes of mercy from his biological mother. He told her what had happened:
“Will you ask Jemimah at least not to hit me in public?”
Victoria was not pleased
“I will not. I think it was wicked to refuse a kind gift and to throw away food. You should be punished more. We could wait until Barbara comes home but I have a better idea.”
Victoria had ordered pizzas and made a lovely apple crumble, which was my favourite and also Eugene’s. Some of my friends were joining us for lunch.
Eugene did not have lunch. He spent that time standing in the corner. Victoria told him to hold up the hem of his dress. I got a real thrill pulling down his panties right down to his ankles. The other girls could clearly see how good I had been at spanking.