Cleaning her mouth with soap

I grab my sister's tongue with my fingers, forcing her to keep it out of her mouth, looking at me, docile.

"Come with me," I order her, getting up from the chair.

She has **** but to get up, still tongue out, keeping her head loud to remain at my hand's height. As I ordered when she arrived, she still kept her arms folded behind her back.

I guide her to the bathroom slowly, without any rush. I want to enjoy watching my sister submissively being disciplined and avoid having any accidents with her biting her own tongue.

Once in the bathroom, I make her raise her head and put her in front of the mirror, looking at herself.

"Look at yourself. What do you see, sis?" I ask her.

"Amm...ob...ye..." she tries to respond.

"Are you sure, Sis? Don't you see a person?"

"Noo...No...pa..son.."

"Then why did you tell me you are one?"

"Am...zo...ri..." she apologizes.

"I am going to tell you what I watch, and then you will confirm that I am right," I tell her.

"It is just a nice pair of tits," I say, grabbing bother of her tits with my hands, "and a set of three holes, " I continue, groping now his cunt with one hand.

"You are right, brother. That is what it is," She agrees with me, keeping it pronoun when talking about herself.

"And an empty head with only a pretty face, incapable of thinking by itself."

"Yes! It has no thoughts, only useless head noises, brother!"

"Then, why did you tell me it is a person?" I demanded again, grabbing her firmly.

"I am so sorry. My head noises were wrong!" She screams.

"Maybe you are still a feminist?" I mock her.

"No, please..." She pleas, with tears starting to form in her eyes. "Don't call me that!"

"Why not? Feminism is the false belief that women are persons. You said that your head noises tell you you are one."

"My head noises are wrong!" She screams. "Please, don't call me that. **** me, deny me, beat me, humiliate me...but I don't want to be that."

She lowers her head, unable to look at the mirror, and no longer contains her tears. Part of me doesn't want to watch her with this level of distress, but at the same time, I am a little turned on by her tears.

"Ey, Sis," I ask her, trying to calm her. "Why are you crying? You are prettier with tears, but I would prefer you to do it after some spanking and slapping play. No, like this."

"I don't want you to hate me, brother," she sobs.

"Why would I hate you, Sis?" I console her, cleaning the tear from her face.

"You hate feminists. They are the worst." She continues crying.

"That is why you cried, dummy? I would never hate you." I console her, caressing her face. "I already told you. You have been lied all your life into believing you could be a person. It is expected that you still keep some of those false head noises. You are defective, but I can fix you, Sis."

"You promise? Please fix me, brother." She pleads, no longer crying, while I clean all the tears from her face.

Once she is calm, I grab her again and start slapping her tits. She remains still looking at the mirror, with only some moans from her mouth.

"You must be punished, Sis," I say, now slapping her face too.

"Yes, brother, ahhh," She agrees. "I deserve it."

"I can slap your tits, face..or spank your ass," I inform her, now also spanking her ass.

"It was my fault...ahhh... punish me more..." She asks me, maybe enjoying her punishment a little.

"Maybe your cunt deserves it too.." I say, opening her labia with one hand and slapping her cunt with the other. This makes her shrink a little, but I notice some of her juice is in my fingers afterward. My sister is getting wet while I punish her. And no, it is not because she has her vibrator inside. I turned it off the moment my sister arrived home.

"All of them, brother! All of my body deserves it. Please continue, brother!" She exclaimed.

Even if I would love to edge my sister during a spank and slap session right now, my sister needs to receive a punishment she wouldn't enjoy. And giver her fault was the words that came out of her mouth; I have an idea of a more appropriate punishment.

"You are enjoying your punishment so much, Sis," I point to her, stopping hitting her and showing her my fingers full of her juices and then making her lick my fingers clean.

I look into the sink closet until I found something that would be used for this purpose.

A soap bar.

I grab a new, unused one. First, I put the soap under the running tap until it started to form bubbles on the bar. My sister kept looking at me in silence, still unsure what I will do.

"I forbid you from swallowing anything during this punishment. Even saliva," I inform her while wetting the soap as a precaution. It wouldn't be safe if my sister swallowed this.

"Open your mouth," I command her, guiding the soap to her mouth.

She obeys and I put the soap in her mouth, moving it around to clean all the parts. The taste clearly disgusts her, making some involuntary movements of ****.

"Don't resist, Sis. It is for your own good," I order her, moving the soap in and out of her mouth. Her mouth and lips are now full of white bubbles of soap.

"Tongue out," I tell her.

Once she takes it out, I rub the soap over her tongue to clean it, letting it become full of soap until it is entirely white. She cannot resist but keeps her eyes closed due to the taste. The tongue is the hardest part for her.

"Dirty feminist words had come out from your mouth, Sis, " I say, continuing to clean her tongue. "It tastes awful. I know. This is what your words taste like."

I clean all parts of her tongue, not forgetting the back of it. Then, I make her close her mouth so I can rub the soap on her teeth and lips.

"It is your fault, Sis," I add, still cleaning her. "You know you deserve this punishment. I must clean those words out of your mouth."

I repeat the process a few times more, cleaning every part of her mouth: interior, tongue, teeth, and lips. Some of the soap has fallen over her tits, mixed with her saliva, which she is unable to keep inside of her mouth.

"Bite it," I tell her, letting the soap in her mouth once I finish cleaning her.

I move behind her and embrace her. We both remain there, looking at her in the mirror with the soap bar in her mouth.

"Ok, sis. I think we can have a conversation now," I say.

Her answer is unintelligible due to the soap.

"Don't worry, Sis. You don't need to talk. Given that I have cleaned your words, I will also choose the words for you. The first I choose for you is that you agree to this. That is your answer."

She nods in agreement.

"You also agree that you will treat any words I choose for you as coming from you. So, no complaining. This is what you want, Sis. You want me to think for you."